Turning Out Pretty Boy - chapter two - Prison Trophy Fuck
* This story is fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or living persons is coincidental.
Personal experiences – images, events, memories, and words – flavor my writing, and while elements of this story may be (and often are) based in fact, the characters are entirely fictional.
* Unprotected sex is depicted. In real life, be safe! Don't gamble.
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Special kudos to one of my readers, mike, for his help with the prison life depicted in the story. Thanks much!
TURNING OUT PRETTY BOY
BY COLTON AALTO
CHAPTER TWO – PRISON TROPHY FUCK
I slept like shit my first night in prison. It was hot and stuffy, and the bed was too narrow not to mention rock hard. Wearing jeans and having my ankles shackled didn't help. I tossed back and forth fitfully, stayed awake for hours, and dozed off a couple of times only to be woken by strange noises or Aidan's movements in the bed across the room from me. I finally fell into a deep sleep in the early morning but hadn't been asleep long when I was jolted awake by a noise he made.
I reluctantly opened my eyes and was confronted with the sight of his long dong, rock hard and pointing toward the ceiling. "Fucking morning wood," he grumbled, "I gotta piss!" He hopped out of bed, dropped his boxers to his ankles, and slid a long foreskin over his dickhead. The cell had a one-piece, stainless steel sink-toilet, and I watched numbly as he stepped in front of it and aimed his pole at it. It took a while for him to soften enough for the piss to start flowing. Once it started, it didn't seem like it would stop. His bladder must have been overflowing. He stood at the toilet for a long while before the stream ended, and then took an extra-long time making sure the last drop was out, mumbling something about hating it when piss was left inside his foreskin.
I had a full-on side view, and seeing the round mounds of the dude's ass was the best thing that had happened to me in days, although that wasn't saying much. His butt was something else. Stretched against his tight, impossibly white skin were two hard glutes you could really pound. I could see why Jamar took a liking to him. His ass wasn't the only bit of eye candy. The dude had a great body, as long as you ignored his homely face. His dick show was memorable, too. He wasn't that thick, but he was long and he shaved his pubes – an old trick to make your tool look longer – although he didn't need the help. His pale, slender cock sorta matched his pale, slender body, except his rod didn't have freckles or tan lines. Neither did his bare butt. At least ones I saw.
Sure the dude looked like a fricking hillbilly farmer, but fucking A, that ass! The blinding whiteness of his skin was broken by a colorful, prominent tattoo on his right butt cheek that looked like some kind of starburst explosion. I was back to thinking that maybe, just maybe, he'd let me fuck him. I really, really needed to get a load out.
He glanced at me and asked, "You awake, Sunshine?" My cellmate was the master of the obvious.
"I am now." I was too groggy to object to him calling me Sunshine. I considered it but in the end didn't have the energy.
"How do you like my tat?" He slapped his bare ass, leaving a bright red handprint where this tattoo was.
He obviously realized I'd been staring at his bum. I felt my face flush, probably turning to a shade close to the handprint on Aidan's bare butt. "Um, it's okay I guess."
"It's a J for Jamar." He traced the letter with a finger and I was able to make it out by following along. "He hasn't seen it yet. I got it when I was outside. Hurt but it was worth it."
This wasn't something a straight dude would do. He supposedly was gay for the stay, but straight the rest of the way, and straight boys didn't get their butts tatted with the a Black inmate's initials. "What'd your girlfriend think about you getting a Black thug's initial inked on your butt?"
He giggled. "Well... she doesn't know who the J is really for. You see, her name's Jennifer, so..." He grinned and raised both eyebrows. "She was hugely appreciative, if you know what I mean." He thrust his hips forward in a lewd fashion, making his long dong flop up and down and his glutes flex with each thrust. Once again it crossed my mind that it was a hard ass you could really get into. The fucker had been turned out and buttfucked by a black stud, but maybe he'd be willing to let me open up his hole.
As much as I was mesmerized by the show, I didn't need more detail about the dude's sex life. I stayed silent as he pulled up his underwear and climbed into his jeans, staying shirtless. I was disappointed the butt and dick show ended. Well, I was totally bummed. I was left with the consolation prize visualizing his dynamite ass and staring at the dude's ripped torso. He had a stark farmer's tan, with his arms from his biceps down and his neck a reddish brown, in stark contrast to the rest of his pale white skin.
As I gawked at his bubble butt while he was peeing, I'd sprouted my own morning wood. I couldn't claim I woke up with it. While his ass had captured most of my attention, I'd studied his uncut prick too. What was with me, blatantly scoping out a dude's junk and boning as I watched? I'd never been interested in the dicks of the dweebs I'd buttfucked. Of course, I didn't recall any of them having as intriguing fuck stick as Aidan's. I shook off my strange infatuation with his tool, telling myself that his pale ass had triggered my stick. But as much as I'd admired his butt, which was damn fucking awesome, deep down I knew his fuck rod also caught my attention. I chalked it up to an odd reaction to the stress of being in the slammer. The moment would pass.
Aidan was as bright eyed and talkative as before. I spent the better part of the next two days in the cell with him, staring at his bare chest and abs and relishing more opportunities to scope out his very fuckable ass. And yeah, his uncut tool, seeing it both soft and hard. The dude had like the smallest bladder in the world, so he pissed constantly, and was in the habit of pulling his boxers and jeans down to his knees when he needed to take a leak. I got plenty of prime viewing opportunities to see his fleshy ass and long cock. Half the time it seemed like he'd sprouted an erection before he got to the toilet, so he'd stand until it softened. I didn't mind.
The weird thing was that I'd never really scoped out other dudes before. Of course, in high school I hadn't really run across a guy with Aidan's muscles and, well, his bubble butt. I chalked up my odd fixation on him to the shock of being imprisoned in tight quarters and the stress of being there for the foreseeable future.
Nothing about his show helped me keep my bone under control. He looked better and better each hour. The distressing thing was that ogling a dude was unprecedented for me. I told myself that I was only doing it because I hadn't gotten off in forever, had nothing else to look at or think about, and was constantly confronted with an awesome bare ass. I devoted plenty of time to wondering if we might have a window to get it on. The open bars of the cell and the minimal privacy of the joint suggested that wasn't in the cards, and Aidan claimed the only dude he spread his legs for was Jamar, but I could always hope. His ass was damn nice. Indeed, it was better than that. If I did him, I could put him on his back and watch his big prong jump as I pumped his bubble butt.
I was beginning to understand what being locked up does to your brain. Puts it on testosterone.
The cell we shared was used for newly admitted inmates – officially `residents' rather than `inmates' but a prisoner is still a prisoner. We'd been unlucky enough to get busted on a Friday and were stuck in intake at least until Monday, when the prison staff who assessed inmates – school, custody levels and other needs – would return. After that we'd be assigned to general population – gen pop for short.
Without a normal schedule of jobs, classes, and other activities, we had a lot of dead time hanging in the cell. It was almost like we were in lockdown or solitary confinement, although it wasn't solitary. I had to endure Aidan blabbing nonstop about how superior Black men were and how much better it was after he admitted he was an inferior white piece of fuck meat meant to serve da man. Jeez! I heard about the Black Godz until I wanted to throw up. I heard about Jamar's big black cock until I visualized it when I closed my eyes. I heard about how much Aidan loved butt sex – taking Jamar's oversized tool in the ass to be precise – until I totally doubted his assertions of being straight. But as soon as I concluded that, he'd detour into a long session about how hot Jennifer was, how great her tits were and how juicy her cunt was. He seemed to be totally in love with her, which only confused me. Go figure. The dude was schizophrenic. Maybe he was like he said – gay for the stay, straight the rest of the way.
At one point, he was raving about being Jamar's bitch and giving me an elaborate visual of the Black stud on top of him, rutting in his ass, and I couldn't take it anymore. I slammed my hand against the wall and said, "Dude you're totally sick. You're so happy to a bro's ho that it sounds like you'd do anything the motherfucker wants. He tell you to shave your pubes, too?"
Shit. What the fuck was I doing? Only a fag would have focused on the dude's smooth crotch and only a big fag would want to talk about it. Aidan probably thought I was getting off on his cock, which... well, I sorta was.
To my relief, he laughed and didn't make a big deal over my question. "Shaved pubes, shaved asshole, and shaved pits." He raised both arms to show me his smooth underarms. In my fascination with his butt, I'd overlooked the fact that every inch of his skin was smooth other than his head. "Did it all as soon as I hit the joint, `cuz you never know when they're gonna move you. Jamar likes a smooth boi pussy to fuck. Doesn't want to be reminded that it's a dude's ass that he's pounding. Shit, why the hell do I care? It's not like I'll ever look at my own hole, and I'm not gonna get in a woman's panties anytime soon."
I should have shut up, but for some reason I couldn't help myself. "You talk as if you like getting buttboned so much that you probably get hard when Jamar's breeding your white ass."
Aidan stopped with a surprised look on his face, his mouth hanging open. He was silent for a spell, causing me to wonder what was up. Taking a deep breath, he blushed. "I've never told anyone this. But the last time... Well, see, I never used to get hard when Jamar was boning me. I mean, it hurt, and how much of a turn on is that? But after like two months the weirdest thing happened. I began to get semi hard. Not every time, just now and then. But then I started getting a full erection. And it happened more and more frequently to the point I was almost always totally rock hard. It was like his dick went into my ass and drilled directly into my own pecker. I thought maybe I was turning gay, although I was still thinking about how great it was sleeping with Jennifer. I overheard some dude talking about getting hard when he got fucked and he said it was only a physical reaction, caused by your prostate. So I didn't think too much about it.
"But the last night I was with Jamar, the night before I got out, he told me he was gonna empty his balls inside me and use me all night because I wouldn't be around afterwards. Never happened before, but the stud fucked the cum out of me. I came handsfree and it might have been the best orgasm ever! I guess I squeezed my ass when it happened because Jamar shot almost at the same time. He was on top of me, panting and sweaty, and he whispered, `That's right, baby. You're gonna work that ass to get me off, and you're gonna do it until the sun comes up.' He never pulled out and like twenty minutes later was hard and ready to fuck again. I didn't think I'd climax a second time but I did. Handsfree again, my dick spewing spunk everywhere! By the end of the night it was six fucking times! Handsfree, each time! My sheets were drenched, my ass was raw and sloppy and my balls felt like they'd never cum again."
That was too much information. I took a deep breath and changed the subject, partly because I popped a boner while he talked and had to subtly rearrange it. Damn, did I ever need to nut! I was probably a step away from blue balls.
It wasn't long before Aidan returned to his theme of the night before and wouldn't let up on how much of a target I would be. He raised it time and time again. During the afternoon of our second day I was stretching my legs and hobbling around the cell – the damn shackles were still on – when he remarked, "Dude, when you walk down a hallway, you're gonna leave a string of erect black bones behind you. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes. And I sure as hell wouldn't want to suffer through what'll go down."
"What the fuck do you mean by that?"
"Huh. You should see what you look like from behind. Long, wavy blond hair; tight, narrow waist; pert bubble butt to die for; and an ass crack that is eye riveting. To be blunt, at first glance they'll think you're a girl because of your long hair. Once that thought is in their minds, look out! I mean, I'm straight, but if I'd been in here for a couple of weeks with no action and I saw you walk by, even I'd be thinking about splitting your ass crack with my dick and heading home like a thoroughbred racing for the finish line."
"That's sick. I'll beat the crap out of you if you look at my ass."
"Too late. The first night, when the guards tripped you and you were on your hands and knees? Your jeans were hanging kinda low and your crack showed really good. Like I said, I'm straight but right then, I prolly would have dicked you if you'd offered. Hell, I totally would have."
"Dude, that is so not happening, so stop mouthing off about it."
"Hey I get it. I'm just telling you what's gonna happen inside. Nothing anybody can do about it."
"Since you think so much about butt sex, maybe you'd like it if I plowed your ass. It is still tight enough to get a dude off who doesn't have a huge donkey dong?"
I'd inadvertently revealed that I wasn't hung like a horse, but so what? Aidan surely had figured out what I had anyway. It wasn't like there was a lot of privacy when you had to take a piss or a shit. On top of that, we had a communal shower down the hallway, so it was like a high school locker room. The only difference was the prison guard overlooking it all. I got an eyeful when we were there, quite an eyeful. Aidan was bigger than I was and it wasn't close. It isn't like I'm tiny or anything. Average-sized dick, although I like to think it's a sliver bigger than normal. Fuck, who doesn't want to think that? But my cellmate had an impressive long dong. He wasn't shy about strutting around naked, either, showing off his farmer's tan and the dark tan lines and explosion of freckles where his skin had been in the sun. In the shower, it felt like he spent an eternity washing his junk and his asshole, but maybe that was only because I watched so intently.
He laughed. "Doesn't really matter if my ass is that tight. No offense, but your dick is the wrong color. That plus I need a dominant Black daddy to make me consider taking it in the ass. One in particular."
"Fucking A! What is it with you? Taking black bone from Jamar is all you've talked about since I've been here!"
"Sorry. It's just that looking at you keeps reminding me of how the Black Godz are gonna react when they see you. You know, your hair is gonna make you stand out like a flower in a frigging desert."
"What, the bros here never saw a guy with blond hair before?"
"Oh, not that. It's that guys inside never have long hair. The authorities just changed the rules, like the week before you and I showed up. Two weeks ago, we both would have gotten buzz cuts by now and we'd be in for assembly-line haircuts every month after that. This place has always looked like a military barracks if you ignore the barbed wire on top of the outside walls. Every inmate has short hair and is clean shaven, except for the handful of dudes who wanna go through the hassle of claiming a religious reason to have a beard. But the powers-that-be decided the haircut policy was demeaning to the inmates. You know, too `different' from the outside world. Of course, being locked up is a little different to begin with, so feeling bad about requiring short hair kinda seems like worrying about a wart on a toad.
"Anyway, the rules changed and you and I are the first lucky beneficiaries. My hair isn't that long, so you'll be the only dude inside with long hair until some more long-haired dudes trickle in. The guards are pissed off about that change, so that's another reason they'll have it in for you. The inmates will think you're getting special treatment, which won't go down well. You'd be a target just because of that, even if you weren't a pretty boy and even if you didn't have such a luscious, fuckable bubble butt.
I had another one of my typical explosions of anger, even though there was little to warrant it. Glaring at Aidan, I growled, "Dude, I am so over you talking about my butt. So shut the fuck up or I'll send you to your Black daddy with a couple of black eyes and a swollen face."
It was a stupid comment and I knew it. I mean, I'd never given anyone a black eye and odds were that I never would. Like I said, I wasn't a fighter. To top it off, I'd seen enough of Aidan's lean muscles to know he'd have little trouble with me.
The dude reacted poorly to my threat, giving me a hard look and clenching his jaws. His eyes suddenly were furious. In an instant, he turned into an angry, dangerous man. Rising to his feet, he shook his head and balled his hands into fists. "No you won't, fucker. I can take you any day if I want. You'd be easy. Fucking easy. I'd have you whimpering like a baby and I wouldn't even have to breathe hard. And yeah, if I wanted to, I could shove my cock so far up your shitter that your eyeballs would bulge out.
"Remember, this is my third tour of duty in various lock ups. I knew how to fight before I hit the first one and learned even more on the job, so to speak, after I was inside. You're damn lucky that I'm straight and don't like buttfucking other guys, because otherwise I'd already have turned you into a sniveling pussy and dumped so many loads into your fuck chute that your ass would be leaking my spunk for a week."
He hovered over me, and for a split second I thought that he was going to do it, regardless of what he'd said about not wanting to fuck guys and regardless of the risk that the guards might bust him. That feeling only got stronger as he suddenly moved behind me and with catlike grace quickly pinned one of my arms against my back. I felt the warmth of his bare skin next to mine and his hot breath in my ear. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? You talk tough but I can tell underneath you're a little prick just waiting for a man to use your asscunt as a cum dump. And you'd probably get off if he roughed you up a little along the way. Yeah, you would. What you need is the right man to abuse your little twat and fuck you into tomorrow."
I was scared, convinced my virgin ass was about to become a formerly-virgin ass. My heart was thumping like a drum. But it was my own thoughts that alarmed me more than Aidan's threats. For a fleeting moment I wanted him to do it. I had sex on the brain and had thought about fucking him, but suddenly the roles were reversed and a flood of instantaneous images raced through my mind. I envisioned him ramming his long white fuck stick into my mouth, giving me a face bashing as I gagged and retched. He'd juice my mouth, making me swallow my first load of spunk, and then roughly force me face down and ass up so he could fuck my brains out. For days I'd see stars mixed with freckles. I wanted it. I wanted the hayseed to breed me like a bitch and seed my virgin ass.
It was probably my imagination, but in the heat of the moment I thought I felt his bone pressing into my crack. It wasn't possible, because he was wearing jeans and didn't have time to unzip and pull his prong out, but I swear my butt was tingling.
The sudden storm passed. He released me and backed away, his dark scowl dissipating as quickly as it had appeared. I breathed again, staring at him dumbfounded, more in shock over my reaction than his outburst. He became the same happy dude he'd been since the first time I looked at him from the floor of the cell. He grinned and said, "You'd be a fucking idiot to lay a hand on me anyway. Jamar would be looking for your head from the moment they put you in the gen pop, and he packs a mean punch. Took it out on me one time when I fucked up, and I'll never make that mistake again."
Relieved to have backed away from the abyss and looking for a change of topic, I swallowed and asked, "What'd you do?"
He sighed. "Gave it up to one of Jamar's bros without getting permission first. I mean it was only a blow job, but I had my head up my ass. I should have taken the risk that the other dude would have beaten the shit out of me like he was threatening. Jamar went easier on me than on his buddy. It was pretty fucking stupid on my part because I didn't even want to do it and it was nothing like sucking Jamar's shaft. Maybe it was good for me though, because it taught me how different it was with a dude other than Jamar. I ain't gonna make that mistake again."
I had a headache.
Aidan had left the prison only months before, so it didn't take long for him to be assigned to a job and classes and all that shit. He got transferred to general population early on Monday and as he was leaving, he pulled me aside. "Sunshine, you're okay. I really like you and I'm glad we're friends." I glared at him and clenched my jaws. I don't know if I considered him a friend or not – friends were a foreign concept to me, since I didn't really have any – but it definitely pissed me off that he kept calling me Sunshine. Of course I hadn't actually told him my name so maybe I had only myself to blame.
"Think about what I said. The way I figure it, you've gotten dealt just about the worst possible hand in this place. The guards hate you, you're not a fighter, you're a young baby, and you're too damn pretty for your own good. Not to mention that awe-inspiring ass. A very, very bad combination. To put it simply, you're a trophy fuck just waiting to be claimed. And that won't take long.
"When they put you in gen pop, it's gonna be a fucking feeding frenzy. The guards probably know that and they'll make sure they look the other way. Dudes are gonna be competing to see who can score your ass. I know I said prison rape is rare and it is, but that doesn't mean it never happens. The one thing you gotta make sure doesn't go down is to get caught by a gang of thugs. If one dude decides to chance it – and one will, `cuz they'll figure out damn quickly how the guards feel about you – then the fucking floodgates will open and they'll take turns on you.
"If you think being owned by Jamar or one of the Black Godz is bad, being a communal prison bitch is a hundred times worse. Last time I was here, there were a couple of gay boys who got off on being passed around. They were queenie and flirty and everybody knew they could be had for the price of a cigarette or a stale cookie from outside. Fuck I think even a couple of the guards used them. Hell, I know they did. The boys liked being prison bitches or at least claimed to, but you won't. If you get caught in a gangbang, word will get around and every dude in the joint will assume he can do you. If you resist they'll get pissed off and beat the shit out of you because they'll think you aren't giving them what everybody else has had. That would be about the worst thing in the world. So, think about what I said about the Black Godz. You can make lemonade out of lemons. Good luck."
I stood blinking, wondering what sort of place I was in.
Well, I knew.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Sorry that this story has a long build up. Stick with it! My plan is to post a new chapter every two weeks, luck willing.
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