****** Shit Slave by Arablover ******
===============================================================================

Shit Slave


Long before I was convicted, I knew how prison would be for a fair-skinned,
young guy like me. Who doesn't? What I expected came fast. After processing I
went into the usual "administrative isolation," weeks of isolation given a new
prisoner before he joins the general population. It isn't the "hole." It isn't
punishment. It's time alone to allow the newie to acclimatize himself mentally
to his situation. Mine was a small block, just four cells, but I was the only
man in the block at the time. On the first day one of the guards told me I'd be
having a visitor. A few hours later the remote-controlled cell bars
mysteriously rolled open.

Sitting on my bunk, I was nervous, looking down, because I knew the moment he
strode into my cell that the large black man hadn't come to ask me to join the
arts and crafts club. He put his huge hand under my chin and raised my face.
Had it not been for the sense of danger he exuded, I would have liked what I
saw, the shaved head, the full lips and broad nose, those intelligent, intense
black eyes, all the more magnetic for the cold anger in them.

"People call me Jack. You call me 'Sir'."

"I'm Jimmy," I said.

"Fuck you. I'll call you what I want. You're mine, hear?"

Though he just tapped me on the cheek, the weight of that hand instilled in me
an instant respect. Wanting to stay alive, I nodded.

"Bitch? Say you're okay with all that." As if it mattered what I thought. He
tapped my face again, harder.

"Yes, Sir," I said.

"That's a start," he said and proceeded to strip naked.

Wow. The shoulders of this man looked four feet wide and his torso started with
a massive chest and tapered to a waist that could not have been more than 32"
around. He pulled off his white jockey shorts and I could have swooned liked a
teenage girl. Like his ebony balls, the huge dick that dropped out was darker
than the rest of Jack. Soft, it hung about seven inches, its head fully covered
by his long foreskin.

"Sir," I said, "should I undress, too?"

"Not now," Jack said. "I don't need to know what your puny white body looks
like now. All you need to know is that it's mine and I'll use it any way I
want. I want you to see what a lucky slave you are."

"I can see that, Sir," I said as he raised me up to my feet. For the only time
he had me, he kissed me deeply. Instantly I went soft inside as his probing
tongue explored the inside of my mouth and I searched his with mine.

Jack embraced me and I put my arms around him, too. God, the density of that
back. Feeling those trap muscles and his triceps alone was making me ready to
come. He pushed me back down on the bunk.

"I don't need to feel your faggot dick getting hard," Jack said. He turned his
hard bubble-butt to my face. "Smell it." His ass was covered with a net of fine
kinky hair. I spread those buns and put my face in his crack. It was funky,
carbony, smelling like burnt toast. "Don't it smell good?"

"Yes, sir," I said. "Thank you for letting smell it."

"That's it," Jack said with a chuckle. "You're learning, Missie. Maybe you
should get your clothes off, after all. The guards won't like it if you get
shit on your shirt."

I undressed as quickly as possible, never thinking that he literally meant
"shit."

"I'm gonna do you a favor," he said. "We're gonna get the hardest part over
with right away. Once you get used to the taste of my shit in your mouth, of
having it in your belly, the rest is easy. You'll like having my dick in your
ass, in your mouth. A fag face like you like would rather drink piss than
champagne, too. Ain't that right?"

He was too big to disagree with about anything. "I guess so," I said, sitting
again.

"I know so," he said, bending over. "Open your mouth and plant your sissy lips
around my asshole." I started to obey. "Wait," he said and blew a rancid fart
in my face. "Okay, go ahead." Numbed by the whole experience and the pungency
of his gas, I followed his instructions.

"Licky, licky," he said, teasing. I licked at his cruddy hole. "Good girl," he
said. "Now stick your tongue up my hole, get it nice and relaxed. Good girl."

I could feel his sphincter ease. This big man had a big asshole. "You wish you
could crawl up in there don't you, like a worm. Don't you?" He butted his ass
against my head when I didn't answer. I pulled away from my work. "Oh, yes,
Sir!" and went back to his asshole. A moment later when I had my first log of
his shit in my mouth, I knew I must get used to the sliminess, the incredibly
evil taste. I thought: This is my master. I will eat shit.

"Hold it in your hands," he said. "I wanna see this." He pulled off some of my
toilet paper and wiped his ass. I held up his stinking log in my hands like I'd
received a gift. "Doesn't smell so bad," he chuckled, flushing the tissue. Mine
never does, I guess," he chuckled. "Now lick on it."

I tongued it like an ice cream bar easily swallowing each lick of his shit.

"That's a good little shitlicker," he said. "Next time you get my shit you'll
chew it like fudge and swallow big chunks of it. You lick it down this time to
help you get used to it." His dick was hard now and he whacked it while he
watched me demolish his chunky, nutty shit. By the time I was licking my palms
clean he had shot a wad that went everywhere: on me, on the wall, on the floor.

I was a convert. As he was dressing, I begged him to let me lick his ass some
more before he left. A swift slap across my cheek from his mighty hand sent me
to the floor. I passed out. When I came to a minute later he was leaving. "Wash
up," he said. "You smell like something a man would wipe off his shoe."

I lay there for a while in a daze realizing and accepting that Jack had,
indeed, made me his shit slave.

For the rest of his shift, the white guard came to the bars when he had to piss
and had me take it in my mouth. The guard's toilet I was to learn was away from
the block. When the guards were short a man because someone had a day off or
was out sick, the man on duty couldn't leave his post to piss. It was necessary
to have a pissmouth on the block on days like that. Someone who could also suck
a guard's dick anytime one of them got bored. Jack confirmed it all the next
time I saw him. No doubt it was why they let Jack, the top man in the black
gang, turn me out.

Originally, I thought my situation with Jack would be between us and the other
cons, that no one I knew from outside would ever know about it. But one day as
"Sir" sat on the upper bunk, his long legs hanging down, Carlo, a friend I had
worked with in an insurance agency surprised us. He was mopping the floor and
reached the aisle outside my cell while I was slurping on Jack's size 18 feet.
I hadn't seen Carlo since we were convicted for our foolish, amateurish
embezzling. We had socialized together on the outside, respected each other. He
hadn't even known I was gay. I got up from my knees without permission.
"Carlo?" I said as Jack's foot came up and kicked me clear to the opposite
wall. "I didn't tell you to stop sucking my feet!"

I looked at Carlo whose eyes were popping with amazement.

"You know this faggot?" he asked Carlo, as I went back to licking the jam from
between Jack's toes. "He eats shit, you know."

It was the only time since I'd been Jack's slave that I felt real humiliation,
crimson-faced, burning, remorseful, painful humiliation.

All this time, Carlo said nothing, just continued with his mopping. But as he
moved away back down the aisle he said quietly, "No, I don't know him."

Carlo had the bucket detail in my block every day for a while. When he went
past my cell he kept his head down. I ground my teeth until he passed. Then one
day when Jack was visiting, Carlo arrived while I was busy sucking Jack's
unwashed asshole.

"Hey, Carlo," Jack said, pushing my face from his ass. Then he said to me, "You
got shit smeared all over your face. Go show your buddy."

Though I thought it would kill me, I crawled to the bars and looked up at
Carlo.

"You ever see anything like it, Carlo. Girl, open your mouth. Show the man the
brown coating on your tongue."

My eyes met Carlo's. Whatever he had felt for me as a friend was gone. What I
saw was the stony contempt he would show a roach or a rat. He hawked up spit
and snot in his mouth and spit it into my open mouth. He turned away.

"Get over here girl," Jack called, guffawing. "There only one thing you're good
for now."

I buried my face in Jack's asscrack again to suck and to hide.

When Jack started bringing his "brothas" around I was busier than ever. At
their arrival I was to stop whatever I was doing, strip and get down on all
fours and kiss their feet. Sometimes three or four of them would bat me around
the cell calling me a fag and a sissy and shiteater while Jack would hoist
himself up on the top bunk and watch the beating with pleasure. He never let
them do any real damage, though. What would he do without me? Later, after
maybe an hour of being fucked in the ass and mouth by all the guys I would be
allowed to collapse in a corner like a bedraggled rag doll while they smoked
pot and Jack did his business with the guards. The screws must have made a nice
buck from their cut of his drug deals because they talked to him like an
admired compadre and gave him the run of the place as if he were the boss of
not just the other black inmates (and white me) but of the whole place. No one
of my guests ever pissed in the toilet as long as my mouth was open for them.
Some days as the grand finale the six or seven would take turns dumping in my
john and when they were done Jack would have me scoop all the shit up out of
the bowl, mash it together and rub it all over myself. The idea was to impress
on me that I was shit. I did get a boner.

"Just shit! And don't you forget it!" Jack would say. "Right on!" "You said
it," "Faggot" was the chorus of his "bruthas" as all of them left.

"Yes, sirs."

After I'd whacked off with the shit, I'd ask the guard to let me shower. No
problem with that. Hell, these guys had to patrol the area. They had noses.
Best to let me shower.

It's interesting that like most people, I find stale shit disgusting in a
stopped up bowl or in any situation where no scene is on. But once sex is
involved, I'm into it. I think it's proof that anything mixed with sex becomes
sexy. Shit, piss, violence, food. Anything.

I was moved out to general population when a new kid came in to the block to
begin his solitary time. New meat for Jack. I hoped the new kid was gay, at
least. But gay or not, he would be lapping at Jack's shithole very soon, like
it or not.

Once I went to general population, Jack was done with me. I was with the whites
now and when I saw Jack at all it was from afar. I was taken over by one of
White Power boys who called himself Heinrich. Immediately I was being whacked
around and pissed on by him and his guys just like the black boys used to do.
The whites called me "Ginny." Close sounding to Jimmy, if feminine. It made the
relationship more personal than when I was being called "slave" and "pissmouth"
and "hey, shiteater." That I had been a "nigger's" slave made no difference to
my new friends. If anything, it helped justify treating me like trash.

Which is what they wanted to do anyway. They weren't into shit like Jack and
his guys, but Heinrich sure liked my face in his crack. Once in a while he
would tell me to wake him in the morning with a nice asslicking. I would not
just lick but suck and suck. He would groan from the luxury of easing out of
sleep this way. With his morning shit up that chute, it didn't take too much
sucking to get him to give up a dump. After all, I'd developed a taste for the
stuff and these straights are so easy to manipulate.


Comments invited
arablover100@hotmail.com

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
You may also want to visit:
    * Sexy_Top_100_Stories
    * Erotic_Top_100_Story_Sites