Bottom Bunk Bitch

I had just finished making Rocco's bed when he walked into the cell. My feet were on my bed, on the bottom bunk, my rear sticking out, whilst I laid out his covers.

"Morning bitch," he told me, slapping my ass cheeks.

The slap stung. But I was becoming used to them.

He took a seat on a chair and took his top off.

"Brenda," he ordered, "it's time you gave me my morning massage."

Brenda was my prison bitch name, a simple deviation of Brendan. I wasn't a massive fan of it but it was better than being called a bitch all the time.

I climbed off the bunk and turned to face Rocco. He was sat down, his huge arms stretched out, waiting for me to come to him. He was 6 foot five -- almost a foot taller than me - and he spent his time in prison working out in the gym. I took the massage oil from the table and squirted it out onto his back. My delicate, small white hands began to rub in the oil into his back. There was a clear difference in my pale hands and his dark, muscled tattooed skin.

"Oh yeah, Brenda," he whispered. "That's it, girl."

Whilst my fingers rubbed into his muscles, I thought about how the hell it is that I got to be in this place as Rocco's bottom bunk bitch.

It started with my prison sentence several weeks ago. I was sent to prison for what they called 'd**g dealing'. But it wasn't like I had a huge operation: I simply sold hash to friends, and friends of friends. And then I decided on growing my own cannabis plants, which was definitely a wrong move. They had me down as a supplier and I was sent away for two years.

This prison was on the other side of the country, far away from my family. Not that they would come and see me anyway, now that their well educated middle class son had brought shame on the family reputation. I found myself alone and scared of what the future would hold. I had heard enough stories about prison to be concerned, particularly as I was 5 feet and 6 inches tall, less than 150 pounds, and had a delicate frame. I hoped that my age -- being in my mid-30s -- would be in my favour. After all, who would want a man who was closing in on middle age as their play-thing? Turns out I was very, very wrong.

On stepping off the bus, I was escorted into the prison where I had to strip off my clothes before being presented with new ones. One of the prison guards started laughing at my naked state.

"What's so funny?" I asked him.

"That," he said, pointing at my crotch.

I looked down at my small, shrunken penis. Smaller, I was sure, because of the cold and the humiliation. I placed my hands over my crotch.

The guard smiled. "The boys in there are going to love you, darling."

I didn't exactly know what he meant, but I had a suspicion that it wasn't good news.

Luckily, I spent the first night in my own room. I used the time to get used to my new clothes and the environment, before closing my eyes and falling off to sleep. It was the last proper night's sleep I would ever have as the old Brendan.

The next morning I headed to the canteen for breakfast and waited in the line to be served. It was whilst there I realised that I was attracting the attention of groups of prisoners. I looked to my left and there was a band of shaved head, bearded, white prisoners, who I later learned was the white supremacist gang called the Aryan Brotherhood. To the far right were the Latino Kings. And then, in the middle, were the Black Mafia. That was the first time I saw Rocco. He stood, looking straight at me, expressionless, but his eyes filled with lust.

I managed to get my breakfast meal and sit down at a table away from the various gangs.

"New boy, huh?" said one of the prisoners at the table, an older male called Felix, sat alone.

"Yes, my name's Brendan," I told him.

"Probably not for long," he said.

"What do you mean?"

He paused for a moment, before telling me, "Well, look at you. You're a small twig of a white boy. And in a place like this, unless you are connected with someone, that spells bad news for you."

"What should I do?" I asked him.

"You have a couple of choices," he explained. "The first is, you go it alone. I don't advise this. You'll get beaten and pissed on by everyone, including the guards."

"And my second choice?"

"Become a bitch of one of the gangs. I can see that they've been eyeballing you ever since you walked in. That way, the gang will protect you from everyone else."

Become a bitch? That didn't sound too good.

"I'm not a bitch," I told him, pathetically and weakly.

Felix smiled. "Come on, who are you fooling?"

"I will fight anyone who comes near me," I said, not at all convincingly.

"And you know what will happen to you if you try and resist?" Felix asked. I didn't reply. And so he continued explaining: "They will beat you until you are black and blue, probably knock out all your teeth, and then they'll still use you for sex. And if you keep on resisting them the only place you'll end up is the morgue."

I looked over at the gangs. Men with huge arms, beards, oozing testosterone. There was no escaping it that it would be impossible to fight them.

"What would you do?" I asked Felix.

"Ha," he said, smiling. "I became a bitch, my friend. It was the only way to survive."

With that, Felix stood up and walked out.

I was left alone, watching the three main gangs. I gulped down my food and left as quick as I could. Whilst walking back to my cell I noticed that I was being followed by a couple of people from the Black Mafia. I continued walking, picking up my pace, but I heard the footsteps getting closer and heavier.

A hand grabbed my wrist.

"Hey there," said one of the men. "How are you doing today?"

"Get off me!" I ordered.

They both laughed.

"We've been instructed to take you to come with us."

"To do what?"

"To meet Rocco," they told me.

They directed me up the stairs and around a corner, all the while the men held a wrist each to impress upon me that there was no escape and that I was at their mercy. We soon arrived at a cell door, and they released me.

"Go on," they told me, "walk on in."

I stepped through the door and sat on a chair positioned in front of me was him. Rocco.

"Hey man," he said, standing up, and holding out his hand for me to shake. "How are you today?"

I had been expecting a group of men waiting to beat me to a pulp, so this was a welcome surprise. I was being treated better. I was being treated with respect. Like a man.

I held out my hand for the handshake. Rocco's hand easily enveloped mine and his grip tightened onto me.

"I've been wanting to make my introduction," he told me, grinning. "I'm Rocco."

"I'm Brendan..." I said, starting to feel a bit of discomfort from the grip of his hand.

"Brenda?" he said, "what a lovely name."

"No," I said, becoming worried now about the pain in my hand. "I said..."

He moved closer to me, continuing to hold my hand, and he whispered in my ear, "I know what you said. You said Brenda. Didn't you?"

I didn't know how to reply.

"Didn't you?" he shouted now.

The pain was becoming too much. I had to give in.

"Yes," I said, "I said Brenda."

He let go of my hand.

"Very good," he told me. "Brenda is such a lovely girl's name. Beautiful."

Rocco directed me to the bottom bunk, where I took a seat. My hand was still smarting. He towered over me, bringing a hand down to my cheek.

"Listen, cutie," he told me, "you're new here. You don't know how things work. But I'm here to help you through this and to protect you. Daddy doesn't want anything to happen to his little flower."

He cupped my chin.

"This prison is a bad place. Bad things happen all the time. And I certainly wouldn't that to happen to you."

He lifted my chin to look up at him, directly in the eyes.

"That's why, I've decided that the best place for you is to be here with me, in my cell. Here I can protect you and make sure that you are safe. What do you say?"

I wasn't sure that I had a choice at this point. All I could do was nod.

"Good," he said, smiling. "I'm glad that we got that sorted. Now, how about you show me some gratitude for all that I've done for you."

Rocco stood there, in front of me, not moving. I wasn't sure what to do.

"Come on, Brenda," he said. "You know what to do."

"I don't," I told him.

Rocco looked cross. "If I'm playing my part in protecting you, then you've got to do your best to make me happy and to keep me satisfied. And what better to express your gratitude for all of my hard work than to get your little sissy hands undoing my belt buckle."

I now knew what laid in front of me.

"Now, Brenda."

My hands moved to his belt buckle. I didn't want them to move there, but his order was enough for me to stir into action. I undid the buckle.

"Now the pants."

I started pulling them down. I could see the outline of his penis beneath his shorts. My God, it looked huge. About twice the size of mine and it wasn't yet fully erect.

"Come on, Brenda," he ordered. "I can't be telling my little sissy every single thing that she needs to do."

I placed my hand on the elastic of the top of the shorts. Could I really do this? On another man's body? I started pulling them down.

"Faster."

I pulled them down faster.

"That's it, baby."

There, in front of me, was a growing cock, right in front of my eyes. It continued expanding. Six inches, then seven inches, before pinging out in front of me, hard as wood, at eight inches.

"Like what you see?" he asked me.

There was only word one. It was too mesmerising. All I could do is agree with him. "Yes."

He gently slapped the side of my face.

"Call me Daddy, bitch."

"Yes," I said, "Daddy."

"Come on, get those hands on it," he ordered. "Let's see what you can do."

I placed my right hand on the shaft. This was unreal. I couldn't believe that I was touching another man's cock. But this was unlike anything that I had felt in my life. My cock was much smaller and could easily be embraced with my hand. But Rocco's python was something else. The girth was incredible.

I started to stroke his cock. He seemed to be pleased with that, which in turn, made me happy. The feeling was weird, why did I want to make Rocco so happy? What was happening to me?

Rocco grabbed the back of my head and pushed me toward his dick.

"Come on, girl," he told me, "it's time that we christened that little mouth of yours. Open up for Daddy."

I did as I was commanded. My mouth opened wide, with his warm, wooden cock entering it. My mind was whirling around with different thoughts, but the main one was how could I end this as quickly as possible? I started thinking back to the few times that I had received blow jobs from women. What had worked so well for me to climax? I needed to do the same. To become the woman for Rocco.

"That's it, baby", he grunted out. "Keep twirling that tongue. Oh yes, you are a natural cocksucker."

I licked away at the head, gobbling as much as I could in my mouth. Rocco was directing the whole ordeal: bobbing my head back and forth. Then, according to his grunts, my head was bobbing faster and faster. I started finding it difficult to breathe, using my nose as best as I could.

"Yes, bitch," he shouted. "Take my big stick!"

His pace sped up. I knew what was coming next. His ejaculation. But there was no time to move off his dick, even if I could force my way from the hand on my head.

"It's coming, girl," he told me. "Daddy's got a nice present for you."

And that's when his mighty cock exploded. A river of hot semen flowed into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. I instinctively started gulping down his heavy load. He held my head in firm position whilst his cock continued to throb.

"Yes, that's right, you swallow every last drop."

When he was satisfied, he withdrew his hand from my head. I flopped back onto the bottom bunk, exhausted and breathless. Rocco started laughing, looking down at my defeated body.

"Oh, Brenda," he told me, "this is the start of a beautiful relationship. You've proven that you have what it takes to become my bottom bunk bitch."

And he was right. The following day I moved into his cell, where I have been for the past several weeks. In that time I have become accustomed to Rocco's wants and desires, pleasuring him every morning with my mouth, and every evening with my ass pussy. I have become forced to satisfy another man's sexual appetite, whenever he demands and however he chooses. I now massage his back, prepare his food, clean the cell, and do what else he wants. My name has been replaced for a female one. Brendan is no more. I am no longer a male but a sissy slave. I am Daddy Rocco's bottom bunk bitch.