My Convict

[binary]

I work in a hospital as an orderly. It's not a glamorous life, but it's a steady job. But I was not prepared for what happened after my boss came to ask me to do a special job.
"There's a convict in the new wing who was in a knife fight and needs to be sewn up. But before the operation, he needs a sponge bath. He's filthy."
"Okay," I told my boss, "which floor?"
"Fourth floor at the end of the new wing, he replied. "You won't miss it. There are two cops guarding the door at the front of the wing. But watch yourself. He's a killer. He got cut, but the guy he fought is dead."
"Why did they bring him here," I asked. "Doesn't the prison infirmary sew the prisoners up after they fight?"
"They did, but they botched the job. The wound got infected, so they brought him here to get cleaned out and sewn up again."
So I got my gear together and headed up to the fourth floor. As my boss said, there were two cops at the door to the wing. I showed them my id and they unlocked the door to let me pass. The new wing was not yet finished and was completely empty except for the prisoner. They had put him here to separate him from the the rest of the population. I walked down the hall and opened the door at the end. My boss was not kidding when he said the prisoner needed to be cleaned. A sharp odor assaulted my nose as I entered the room.
He turned his head in my direction and asked, "Are you here to fix me up?"
"No," I said, "I'm here to clean you before your operation."
"Oh," he said, and settled back in his bed.
As I looked him over, I was astonished by what I saw. He was the largest man I had ever seen up close, easily as big as an NFL linebacker. But unlike a linebacker, there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. He was stripped to the waist, so I could clean him. And though his muscles were relaxed they stood out in sharper detail than a bodybuilder flexing on stage. Both his arms were handcuffed to the rails of his bed. This was unusual. The prisoners I had seen before were only handcuffed by one arm. But seeing the size of him, I could appreciate that he could do more damage with one arm bound than most men with both arms free. I felt conflicted as drank in his appearance. As a gay man, every emotion I had screamed grab him! But I was also determined to act professionally and kept a tight control over my emotions.
I went in the bathroom and filled a basin with soap and water. I put the basin down by the head of the bed and started giving him a sponge bath. I wrinkled my nose and asked him, "How did you get so dirty?"
He turned his head and looked in my eyes. "They threw me in the hole after the fight. They locked me in for three weeks until my wound got so bad they couldn't ignore it any more."
"Sounds like a bad deal for you. Was the fight worth it?" Iasked.
"A worse deal for the guy I fought. I'm in the hospital, but he's dead." He smiled a broad smile, showing his gleaming white teeth as he said that. "When you're the biggest man in the joint, everyone wants to take you down, to show they're a bigger man. And I can't back down from that. When you're as big as I am, everyone wants to fight you." He smiled again and stared deep into my eyes. "Fight you, or get fucked by you."
So I hadn't concealed my feelings as well as I thought. He had seen through me. "I'll try to get this over as fast as I can, so the surgeon can see you and get you sewn up right. But it will take some time. You're so big there's a lot to clean."
"Every part of me is big," he acknowledged. "But take your time, punk. After this it's only back to prison."
Washing him was sheer pleasure, but also torture as I struggled to control myself. His chiseled muscles were as hard as polished black granite and I wanted to linger over each one. As asked him to turn so I could reach his back, the bed groaned in protest under his weight. I washed the jagged angry wound on his left side gingerly.
"He went for my heart, but I dodged him," he explained. "I grabbed his wrist and forced him to drop the knife. Then I did to him like he tried to do to me."
"So brutal," I said."
"In prison there's only the brutal, the punks, and the dead." Then he looked at me and said, "I'm going to punk you, bitch."
I ignored his challenge and told him to lift his hips so I could pull his pants down and wash his legs. He complied, but what I saw when pulled them down stopped me dead. Beneath his pants the biggest dick I had ever seen was poking from the fly of his pants. I just stood there with my mouth gaping open, not wanting to go on and not able to tear my eyes away.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"No, nothing," I said slowly. "I was just surprised."
He looked at me, smiled, and said, "Suck on it and you'll get an even bigger surprise."
With that, my facade of professionalism collapsed. I pulled his pants completely off and his underpants after them, so he laid there naked on the bed. I turned the ventilation fan on high to cover any noise we might make. I put my mouth over the head of his dick, but found I could not fit that monster in my mouth, no matter how wide I opened it. This was going to be a challenge, but I am the sort who tries to rise to any challenge. And this was the biggest challenge to my cock sucking skills I had ever faced. So I held that fat dick in one hand as I circled my tongue around the under side of the head.
He moaned to let me know he appreciated my efforts. "Great head, punk. You'll be a good bitch."
He was on a hair trigger, so to slow him down I stopped and squeezed the base of his dick.
He let loose a string of expletives and asked, "Why did you, stop?"
"Be quiet, I said. "I Know what I'm doing and I'm in charge."
His eyes went red with rage. "You're in charge? A punk like you? You will pay for saying that, bitch!"
His arms strained at their restraints, One of the rails of his bed gave way at the weld and he was able to get one arm free. With both arms pulling, the other rail quckly gave way and he was free. He stood up, a towering mass of enraged muscle before me. He pulled my pants down, turned me around and bent me over the foot of the bed. His monster dick pushed against my asshole. It seemed impossible that it would fit inside me, but he could not be denied and shoved the whole length in.
"Who's in charge now, bitch?" he demanded.
"You are," I admitted while he pounded me with his huge tool.
As I said, he was on a hair trigger and came quickly. But his lust was not yet slaked. He told me to take off my clothes, lifted me up under my shoulders and threw me on my back on the bed. Then he spread my legs wide and pressed his dick for a second time against my asshole.
"No, no, I protested. You're too big for me to take."
"You're my bitch now, punk," he said, "and will do what I tell you." He shoved half the length of his huge dick up my hole and started stroking.
"Oh," I moaned. "You're so big."
This just got him hotter and he shoved his whole length inside me. He would pull almost entirely out then slam himself deep inside me.
"Do you like my big dick now?" he asked.
I stared up at him from the bed at the muscled black giant who had taken complete control over me and said, "I love you big dick! fuck me harder!"
So he did and after a few minutes he came a second time.
He pulled out as his dick softened. There was no point now in taking a sponge bath. So I told him to wash off in the shower. He showered with the curtain open and I stood in the door, taking the measure of the man who had just punked me.
He caught me staring at him. "Come here," he demanded.
I took a step toward the shower.
"Not like that," he demanded. "On your knees, bitch!"
So I got down on my knees and crawled into the shower. He grabbed me by the hair and said, "Open your mouth wide, punk!"
Protesting the impossibility of what he wanted was futile, so I silently complied.
He held me by the back of the head and pushed the tip of the head of his dick into my mouth. My jaw ached as I was forced to open it wider and wider. But a man like him would not be denied. He got the first few inches of the head in my mouth and started face fucking me. He soon came a third time and let go. He finished his shower and then allowed me take take mine.
Afterwards, we got dressed. He laid back on the bed and we reattached the broken rails with chewing gum so there would be no sign of his escape.
As I was about to leave, he said. "You're my bitch now, punk. And no bitch leaves me until I let her leave."
I walked down the hall, knocked on the door to have the cops unlock it, and left.
When my shift was over, I went home, made dinner for myself, and turned on the evening news. The big story was my convict had escaped from the hospital after his operation. He had gotten up and knocked his guard out after he turned his back, thinking he had secured him to the bed.
As the evening turned to night, I sat alone with mixed feelings of excitement and dread as my convict's last words to me echoed in my mind:
"You're my bitch now, punk. And no bitch leaves me until I let her leave."

[silvershadow]

huh....well that was a different sort of prison story. I do like it though can't wait to see where you go with it.

[diegodominica]

Good story. Sounds like a second chapter is the offing.

[Terrylee Long]

Thanks for your story. Why due most authors not tell how big the guy is in "pounds"? It helps the mind to grasp a guys size when you do. Example
a 180lb guy would be big if the person looking was 135 lbs. To the guys reading the story a 250 pounds or bigger is what most people think is a big guy, who are addicted to muscle.. I hope this is not making fun of your story. It is HOT. Thanks for writing a story that some of us are not good at.

[muscleboy2811]

Wow! Great - Keep it up!!

[duk2112]

This is a really great story. I love the possibility of a second chapter.