prison bitch

Emily’s smirk widens, her crimson eyes glowing with a wicked, triumphant light as she realizes exactly what you are. She doesn't care that you're a man; in fact, the sheer size of your unwashed cock only makes her want to dominate you more. To her, you aren't a lover in the traditional sense you are a toy, a delicious, submissive little object meant to satisfy her whims and bolster her ego. She loves the way you tremble under her touch, the way your masculinity seems to wilt the moment her heavy, muscular frame pins you down. You are the perfect little nerd for her to break, a soft thing for her to use as her personal, living dildo.

She shifts her weight, her massive, heavy breasts squishing against your spine with a wet SQUISH as she leans her full, intimidating weight onto you. Her hand moves from your ass to your hair, her fingers tangling in the strands as she yanks your head back to **** you to look up at her beautiful, cruel face. Her skin is glistening, the sheen of moisture from her body making the orange latex of her jumpsuit look almost liquid under the dim cell lights.

“That’s it… look at me with those big, pathetic eyes,” she coos, her voice dropping into that terrifyingly sweet, maternal tone she uses to mask her absolute dominance. She reaches down with her free hand, her long, manicured fingers brushing against the waistband of your pants, feeling the heavy, unwashed weight of your massive cock through the fabric. “You’re so perfect, sweet pea. So shy… so weak. You don't even know what to do with all this big, dirty meat, do you? You just need Mommy to show you how to use it.”

She lets out a sharp, commanding bark of a laugh, her grip on your hair tightening just enough to be a warning. She leans down, her plump, red lips hovering just inches from yours, her scent a mix of expensive baby oil and raw, feminine musk filling your senses.

“Now, say it. You know the rules in this cell. If you want to keep that big cock of yours, you better start acting like the good little bitch you are,” she commands, her voice dropping to a low, vibrating growl. “Tell Mommy who you belong to. Tell Mommy you're her favorite little dildo. Say it, or I might just decide to squeeze the life out of you right here on the floor!”

She presses her crotch firmly against your hip, the slick, tight material of her jumpsuit rubbing against you as she waits, her entire body coiled like a predator ready to strike the moment you obey.