Franco's Prison Bitch (An Epilogue to "Jerry In Prison") - Sex Stories

Franco's Prison Bitch (An Epilogue to "Jerry In Prison")

... decided to try it out on my bitch. “I ain’t put on deodorant for about a week boy, and I worked up a nice sweat beating yo ass. I got a full-on man musk all for you.” With a stunned look in his eyes he said “Yes, sir.” He slowly leaned his head to the side and stuck his tongue out and licked the thick, sweaty bush of hair under my arm. “Bury yo face in there, bitch,” I said. He obliged, rubbing his face all around. “Yeah, make yo face smell like my pit.” He was always a clean freak, so this somewhat nauseated him, having his face right in a ripe, musty armpit, but I didn’t give two fucks. He was gonna prove he was MY bitch today! “Get some good shots of this, Mike,” I said. And he was there with his phone, taking pictures. “Good boy,” I said to my bitch. “But you know what’s better? I got two of those for you!” I put my right arm down and lifted my left one. Obediently, he went for it just like he did last time. “Better lick good or Daddy’s gonna punish you again,” I said. “Yes, sir,” he groaned. “Get this one on video, bro,” I told Mike. Again, his camera was on, picking up every bit of footage. “Yeah, lick Daddy’s armpit. Smell that fuckin’ manly musk. How does Daddy’s pit smell?” “Very good, sir. You smell like a real man, sir.” Sam ate my pit for about a minute before I pushed him back. “Yeah, bitch!” I said, giving him a smack across the face, not enough to knock him down, but enough to exert my dominance over him. “You’re a good little puppy, aren’t you?” “Yes, sir,” ...

... he said. “That’s right,” I said, and I spit right in his face. He flinched backward. “Fuck that,” I snarled. “You take that shit like the bitch you are! Stay still!” He stiffened up and I spit on him a few more times, and gave him a couple more smacks in the face. I saw a small refrigerator next to his bed and asked, “Is there any beer in that fridge?” “Yes there is, sir,” he said. “Grab one of my beers from in there,” I demanded. “But there’s only my beer in there,” he retorted. I reached out and bumped my knuckles against his jaw. “Haven’t you learned anything from being in the big house, boy?” I said. “When you became my bitch, everything that belonged to you, also belonged to me. You’re still my bitch, so ain’t nothin’ changed. Yo shit is my shit. Now get ya faggot ass over there and get one of my beers!” “Yes, sir,” he said grudgingly. Ten seconds later, he handed me a bottle of ice-cold Budweiser. “Attaboy,” I said, cracking my beer open. I took a long drink from it and belched right in his face. “Now you get what you’ve been wanting for two months,” I said. “On your knees!” As he knelt down, I pulled up another chair and sat next to Mike. “Fire in the hole,” I said to my brother, and he lit the first blunt. I drained my beer and said to my bitch, “Suck Daddy’s cock.” “Yes, Daddy,” he murmured. I took my phone and played some Bob Marley to set the mood for smoking. Meanwhile Sam walked on his knees in front of me, and reached out to undo my pants. “I don’t think so,” I ...