How I Cock-Controlled the Prison Tough Guy: On My Knees Paying Lip Service

By Tosh Turner

He didn't like this at all; just 22 years old, sent to prison and sharing a cell with the wing bully, a giant brute of a man called Paul, a long term prisoner who had been in and out of jail all his life, knew the ropes, and quickly spelled out in great detail what he was going to do to his new, cute cell mate.

To Paul the young kid's name didn't matter; he was his bitch, his property, his nighttimes' joy ride to pleasure. But the young boy was straight and didn't like the idea at all, standing his ground, maybe prepared to go so far if he had to, but definitely not all the way. He needed time to think it all through but Paul didn't give him any time, making his move on the second night....

Hardcore xxx gay sex graphically written to arouse and satisfy. Detailed, hard and explicit 'pig sex' aimed at broadminded adults and over 18's only. Looking for something special? Something that won't disappoint? You just found it!  One handed reading guaranteed. Scroll down to order now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tosh Turner
• Release date: Jul 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393901372

Book preview

How I Cock-Controlled the Prison Tough Guy

On My Knees Paying Lip Service

The warden pushed me into the cell and slammed the door hard behind me. There was no introduction, no guidelines, no don’t do this or don’t do that; nothing.

Who the fuck are you? A voice from the bottom bunk said, You in here with me? You the new kid?

The bunk was so low to the ground that all I could see were the guy’s feet; his head was in the corner of the bed hidden from view.

Yep....Looks like it, I replied, trying to sound as if nothing bothered me, but seriously depressed as hell with my situation.

I’m Paul, He continued, So....What did you do to land in this shit hole?

I walked in front of the bunk and put my small bag of personal stuff and toiletries down and looked round the four walls of the tiny cell, looking at the bunk beds, the dirty stained sink and toilet bowl. The guy was right; it was nothing but a shit hole.

I was drunk and we took a car for a joyride.

That’s it? He laughed, Fuck, I am in a cell with a fucking car thief. Big time man. Well... Welcome to hell hole number A-146.

He slid his feet to the floor and slowly stood up. He was at least 6 foot 2 inches tall, about fifty years old with thinning salt and pepper hair, and with tattoos covering almost every inch of his skin; he looked as solid as a rock. I was shook by the bulk and size of the guy, he was huge; I’m only 5' 5 inches and weigh 100 pounds soaking wet through. My arms and legs were half the size of his biceps. He was one scary cell mate to be doubled up with, that’s for sure.

What are you in here for? I dared to ask.

Which time? He laughed, I’ve been in and out of this place so many times since I was eighteen years old that I can’t remember the last charge...Or even if I did it or not.

He smiled at me and looked me up and down. So this guy was an old hand in here, maybe that was a good thing for me, maybe not. It all depended on if he was genuine and treated me okay, or if he was as corrupt as that fucking guard who’d just frog marched me up the corridor and slammed the door on me.

Settle in and I will tell you how it is in this place. How old are you anyway?

Twenty two, but after what’s happened today I feel more like eighty fucking two, I replied, wondering why everyone was asking my age. What was it with these guys? What’s age got to do with anything?

He laughed out loud and nodded his head for me to sit down on the bunk next to him. I hesitated; I didn’t want any more shit like the guard had just put on me, I just couldn’t stand it.

"I’ll tell you