****** Serving Hard Time(2) ******
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Synopsis:
Serving Hard Time (2)

   with Bud the Sub

   TJ Ryder

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    A few days after his first latrine duty, now into his second month of

his sentence, Bud was again between work details and back in his cell

trying to figure out how to make a sit-up board out of his bunk. 

He liked to keep in shape, and even with the work details the confinement

of his cell made him restless.  Plus, when he was in college before he got

setup for that unfair vice sting he kept his lithe body in shape with sports

and missed his regular gym.  The guards, all black muscled-up types, had

their own facilities they made use of, but of course he couldn't think of

that.



     He found an edge of the steel near the ceiling he could use for

two kinds of pullups,  he could do inclined pushups and kneebends

and stretching, but he didn't want to lose his nicely cut abs, so he

needed a sit up board somehow.  A month and a half of his sentence

and he would lose definition if he didn't find something.

He found he had a desk that came apart, and by using  3 pieces, he could

use it for a board, although it was only at 30 degrees, but that was

enough, smiling as he finished 50 slow reps, pleased he hadn't lost

much edge.  Then he used the small sink and wet a towel down to

wipe himself off with.



   Looking at himself in the steel mirror by the washstand, critically

appraising his washboard abdominals and swollen groin, he frowned at his

heavy sack and half hard thick penis.  Sighing, he knew nobody was

preventing a jackoff right now but himself.  The problem was he not only

would be disobeying Darnell, but disappointing himself.  Ever since

in high school when he had been assistant manager of an all Black

wrestling team and been first dominated he had relied on the emotional

satisfaction of obeying any Black male.



   "All right," he said to himself, "this is ridiculous."  He wondered

himself how far he would go in this obedience.  Testing himself, he

peeled off the underwear, and tentatively grasped his thick penis, and

quickly became rigid and erect.  Sighing, he looked at himself in the

mirror, and stroked lightly, feeling it inflate more, and when he

was close to orgasm, willed himself to stop, dropping his hand.

He needed it bad and wondered if he would be able to stop. He had heard

that denying himself like this led to a bigger hardon but that wasn't the
reason

he stopped.  He watched a drop of precum drool from the flared hard knob,

knowing he would spray with just a touch now.  Waiting till the tremors went

down, he walked to the corner of the cell where he had devised a chinup

pole, and, facing the mirror, watched himself do chinups, a light sweat

breaking out on his body again even though his hardon barely wilted.  The
finely

muscled torso showed its definition as he reached 20 reps, and gasping in

exhaustion, saw his hardon wilt, but his balls were still full as he dropped.



     This was times when he wished he had a cellmate.  But even if he found

a nice guy who was dom amidst the prison population, and he didn't get to

choose his cellmates, maybe the constant confinement would drive them to

eventually hate each other.  And of course he knew that slim whiteboys here

always got their own cells so they could be of service to the guards on demand,

which he had no problem with, but he didn't get to choose them either,

naturally.  And Darnell, what did he really mean by insisting on rules for

him?  He hardly ever dropped by.  Mostly that cruel Cletis was doing most

of his breaking.  Now he was actually looking forward to mopping the

cellblock concrete floors to get his mind out of this mess.



     The next day started off pretty good,  first an easy detail mopping

cellblock 'A' upper and lower levels with one other inmate.  He was getting

into mopping, the endless loop of the mop, letting his mind just float

with the handle as he expertly swirled it over the smooth concrete.

He still was obeying his masters in not pumping off or meeting Tyrell in

a utility closet, and now when he spilled some water on his crotch, his

half hard and swollen genitals were outlined more to the catcalls of

the eager men in their cells.  Blushing now, he just kept on mopping, trying

not to meet anyone's eye no matter what was said.  Cursing himself at

spilling the water like that he was both terrified and titillated at the
obscene

suggestions coming from up and down the block from inside the bars.

Also, because he didn't want to offend anyone who might meet him in the

exercise yard, he obligingly smiled at the grinning and sometimes enraged

black faces behind the steel bars.



     Three hours later he was back in his cell reading a prison newspaper

when he heard hobnailed boots walking down the block on his level.

Looking up at the main clock he realized it was second shift.  Second

shift was a little looser, the warden's chief deputy was almost always gone,

and this was the watchout time when he could be taken to the PunRoom

for almost anything.  However, standing up and hastily arranging his

cell,  he scanned his living area carefully, telling himself that

today was Nothing wrong, absolutely.  No way, Nothing.  Not a single

item out of place that could get him sent to the PunRoom, a prospect

that terrified and titillated him.



     Standing at attention he saw Cletis's huge form and perpetually scowling

black face, his chest and stomach pushing out buttons from his

overdeveloped muscles.  Standing by the edge of his cell where he couldn't be

seen by anyone else because of a blindspot, he motioned Bud over to him.



    The lithe white boy smiled and came over, nude as per regs except for the

thin worn jockey shorts and sandals he was given.  He was pretty sure Cletis

needed to piss.  After his toilet detail he had been told he would serve him

from this blind spot.  Whether he felt like a blow job or take a leak or both

was all the same as far as Cletis went.  Bud was thinking he had to take a leak

because the rest room was two levels down and in the next block

and on second shift Cletis liked to sip some lite beer from a cooler in

a utility closet the guards kept their own key for.



    So he came close to the bars, close enough for Cletis to grab him if he

wanted to, not that it made much difference.  Any guard could just open his

cell and do anything he wanted anyway.



    "Cmere boy," he said, "ah got somethin fo yo to do."



    "Yes sir," Bud said, a little fearfully.



    "Ah wants yo to toss yo cell up, mess it up good."



    Bud gasped, "but, sir!  I said I would cooperate."



     Cletis grabbed his neck with one huge hand, and slapped him

across his face, hard enough to leave a handprint.



     SLAP!   Ooohhhhh!  "Now, keep yo voice down, pussyboy.

Now you just do what ah tells yo."



     "(sob) Sorry, yes sir, but can't I just sign the markup sheet, and then

afterwards I won't have to put my cell back together?" 



     Cletis put his hands on his hips, looking very irritated, "Listen

up, whitebread!  First off ah don't need to splain nuthin to a punk!

Second is it's not fo me.  Ah'm doin a favor for Dushawn who bringin

a new recruit guard in today an wants to show him an example of

the PunRoom.  His cousin Kaleem startin today an he wants to show

him a good time.  Ain't many  whiteboys around no more." 



     Bud gulped, and nodded.  He hoped that if he agreed he would

at least be promised some reward or at least thanked, but seeing Cletis'

face, realized nothing would be given to him.  "Yes sir," he said

woodenly.  Once again, he thought, entrapped and used as usual.



     Standing at attention, he stood silently, waiting for instructions.

Cletis looked up and down the walkway.  "Here boy," he grinned,

"ah gots some recyled beer for yo pussymouth.  That is, if you

want to.  You don't I can walk to next block cuz there's a new

whitebread punk with an open mouth over there."



    Bud thought he was probably bluffing at that because he hadn't

heard of a new whiteboy through the grapevine yet, and even so the

guards wouldn't have broken him in this fast.  In any case he

didn't want Cletis to use anyone else.  His cock was erect now,

jutting straight up, as he saw the huge black hand arranging a thick

lump in his tight uniform pants.  While he loved the idea of a hot

bladderload from this big black bull, he had been hoping he would

graduate to full duty toilet slut by now!  He felt that at this

stage of his relationship with cletis he should be eating his bowel

movements.  And then, he wryly realized Cletis probably didn't even

think it was a relationship, he was just a convenience.  Somehow

that made it even hotter to the young slim blonde youth whose hardon

swelled in his worn panties!



    "Um, no, I mean, um, I don't mind sir."



    Cletis grinned, "then tell you wants it, wimpie!  Tell me yo

wants to drink mah niggah piss!"



    Blushing, Bud nodded.  It was so true.  His knees felt weak

and he licked his soft full lips.  He begged, "please sir,  I want

very much to drink your piss, master!"



     Cletis softly laughed, and unzipped, and Bud immediately dropped

to his bare knees, as the huge black organ with the big head was

snaked out, as Cletis moved to press himself against the bars.

Gripping the bars.  Bud sighed as the half hard black turgid pole

was thrust through the bars, as he kissed the knob softly, running

his tongue over it.  Drinking a Black man's piss was such a perfect

way of showing his total worship, and he felt so priviledged when he

was allowed to do it.  After several moments where he covered the

cock with soft adoring kisses, he covered the knob, making his

cheeks inflate, and tried to keep his mouth still, not wanting

to stop Cletis from pissing by getting too hard, even though he loved

to make him hard in his mouth.  He gripped the bars to pull his face

close to the curly black hairs at the base of Cletis' big cock.



     Cletis sighed a couple of times, and finally Bud moaned as he

tasted a hot acrid burst of hot piss.  After a few starts and stops, Bud

shivered in pleasure as he just let it flow down his throat,  a long hot

full bladderload he was so pleased to swallow.  Precum from his own knob

now was dribbling out in his underwear.  Finally,  the stream was

slowing down, and Bud eagerly tongue cleaned the cock, and tried to

lick and his huge balls.  He had hoped Cletis would stay for a blow

like he had once, but he didn't.  Instead, he moved backwards so

that when the huge grinning guard put his boot tips through the

bars he could kiss and lick them to a shine.



    "That's right, shoeshine mouth.  Say thanks for your drink, punkie."



    Looking up at the arrogant Black face, Bud felt dazed, his hardon

stretching his shorts.



"Um, thank you, sir, so much!" he said

very sincerely with a warm smile.  He stayed on his knees as Cletis

walked off, chortling.  Looking at the clock on the wall, he wondered

how long Cletis piss would take this time to run through his own

system, and wondered also when his 'prescheduled violations' would

begin. 



    'Fun's over,' he thought, ruefully, as he yanked the mattress half off

his immaculate ordered cell.  An hour later he was standing at attention

as Dushawn yelled in his face and showed him the markups on his

clipboard but Bud knew that was all an act.  He was more interested

in the young huge Black male with a bald head and muscular semipro

look to him.  So this is Kaleem, who stood there arrogantly grinning

and arranged his half hard python in anticipation.  Even as Bud

admitted screwing up and signed the markup sheet, he wondered if

Kaleem was indeed in on this scam.



Continued!

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