Bottom Bunk Bitch Ch. 02

"That's it, Brenda," snorted Rocco, "keep shaking that money maker."

He was currently balls deep inside of me, spooning my body, whilst in my bottom bunk. Getting fucked as his bitch had become a nightly ritual. I had been his prison wife for weeks, but I still wasn't fully used to the size of his mammoth 8 inches.

Rocco was taking his time tonight. Not a fast and furious fuck, as was often the case, but rather deep and slow. It was another lesson that he was teaching me tonight: it was my job, as the woman, to get him off. I was doing my best to grind my ass into his crotch, taking and milking his cock, up and down. The sweat was pouring off me, and all of this exercise was certainly helping in terms of keeping me nice and slim for my daddy.

After all, Rocco had expectations for his bitches. After my first day with him, in which he exploded a bucket load of cum down my throat, he outlined clear rules for me to follow and obey. All of the body hair below my eye-line was to be waxed off and removed permanently. "My bitches aren't hairy," he told me, pointing a finger in my face. It was my job to make sure that my pale white skin was silky smooth, which only seemed to highlight the red hand prints every time he slapped my bottom or body.

However, my head hair was to do the opposite: it was to grow outward and longer. It was already long when I headed into prison, and after a few weeks I took to the habit of wearing it in a ponytail. It gave Rocco something to hold onto when he was throat fucking me, which he seemed to enjoy. However, the brown colour wasn't feminine enough for him, and he had me dye it within a few days of living in his cell. Now I was a blonde. "All blondes are sluts," he told me.

But that wasn't all. I was ordered to avoid wearing the usual prison uniform and instead was told to wear women's clothes. Rocco and his gang had come to an arrangement with the guards which gave the bitches of the prison free licence to wear other items, and there wasn't much that didn't keep my body hidden. My usual attire now was to wear a pair of tight fitting panties, stockings or long socks, a bra, and a crop top. My stomach was also exposed, which led to Rocco to have it pierced in order to decorate it.

And my belly button wasn't the only thing pierced. My ears were now the place for rings, with Rocco preferring big, golden hoops. He liked them dangling whilst he fucked me. My tongue was pierced next, to help improve my cock sucking skills. And furthermore, a stud was placed in my nose. Rocco told me that he was considering piercing my penis.

"No, not my penis, Daddy," I demurred.

He slapped me across the face.

"Shut up, bitch," he told me. "I can do what I want with your body. You got that?"

I nodded. "Yes, Daddy."

Then came another slap on the other cheek.

"And remember, Brenda, you don't have a penis anymore. You have a clit."

Shortly after my outburst, Daddy had a chastity cage ordered for me. It was tight fitting and it took a couple of days to get comfortable with. Since that day, almost three weeks ago, I hadn't seen my clit any longer.

A make-up set was brought in for me. Every morning I practiced on my face, becoming more and more skilled at layering on the various coats needed to make myself look more feminine: the primer, the foundation, the eye-liner, and the blusher.

"Look at you, my sweet little baby," said Rocco, on viewing at me all dolled up.

"Does Daddy like?" I asked, nervously. By now it did really matter to me that Rocco appreciated the effort that I put into my appearance. Not just because I wanted to avoid being beaten or slapped, but because I wanted to do my Daddy proud.

"Definitely," he said, undoing his pants. "Come here and show me that beautiful face."

I swallowed his penis, using my tongue stud as best as I could to arouse him further. When he was climaxing he pulled out, spilling his seed all over my newly painted face.

"Even better," he said, admiring my face. "My sweet little cum slut."

And that was how my days passed in recent weeks. Becoming more and more a woman -- a whore -- for my man. I think of all that has happened, whilst I grind up and down on his cock in my bottom bunk.

"Faster, baby, faster," he ordered.

I didn't have much energy left. I felt zapped of everything trying to take care of his monster. But I knew that if I revealed what I was thinking then he would be angry.

"Faster, bitch," he commanded, slapping my ass.

"Fuck me, Daddy," I gushed, picking up the pace.

"That's it," he said, slapping my ass further to encourage me. "Come on, piggy!"

I looked down at my body. Completely smooth. My belly button piercing moving and down, with every thrust on his cock. My legs adorned in stockings. My nails painted bright pink. A necklace hung around me, as a mark of Rocco's property. Then, down in my crotch, I could see my small, pink, cage encasing my own clit and preventing any attempt at my own sexual release. It was true, I was a bitch. Rocco's bitch.

"Faster, bitch!" he barked, not ceasing with the slapping of my poor, red ass cheeks.

Fuck it, I thought. I'll give him what he wants. Even if it kills me. With the last remaining energy I could muster I hammered down on his dick, whilst moaning out loud for the entire wing to hear.

"Fuck me, Daddy! Fill me with you cum!"

"That's it, girl," he said. "I'm almost there."

With one final thrust I felt his body shudder. He grabbed hold of my hips, holding me in place, whilst his cock erupted inside of me. I felt my insides becoming warmer, with his cum filling me up. It was at that moment that I felt so jealous of him and his ability to orgasm.

But I also felt another feeling: pride. After all, it was me who had got him off and helped him achieve his climax. It was me, my ass and my body, that managed to do that. I had got my man excited and had received my reward.

"Well done, baby," he told me, slapping my ass gently this time whilst he pulled out his cock.

Cum oozed outside of my tired, battered hole. It was at this moment that I realised my condition and feelings of shame started to pour over me. A couple of months ago I was outside of these prison walls and was living life as a man. Now I was reduced to merely being another man's receptacle. A degraded woman. A bottom bunk bitch.