Marcus Prison Backstory 2

Later that evening, after count, Square's cell popped.

A few moments later Marcus entered, throwing his property on the floor.

"There are rules you must follow, dude, if this is gonna work," said Square, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Ignoring him, Marcus spun him around, pulled down his drawers, spit on his rosebud and slid his meat deep inside him.

Pounding that ass all night, and against his will...

Just like Square did to thousands of inmates over the last two decades..

As the full moon slowly crossed ghoulish cloudy skies wrought with glittering diamonds above the prison, it's soft glow lightly danced across Marcus sweaty hips, grinding deep inside Dimes decadent center with the fleshy grip. His walls slithering over ten inches of pleasure, tapping his prostate to the point his toes twitched and his eyes indefinitely rolled to the back of his head.

"What are you, nigga?"

"Marcus's bitch," Dime said in ecstasy. The deeper Marcus dug inside of him; Dime threw it back just as hard as Marcus gave it.

Dissatisfied, Marcus unleashed Sweet Dee, the little head was now a full-grown black python, that beat the booty up until it shook out of its skin.

Dime's body trembled. "Damn, bruh..."

Dime completely let go.

"What's my name, bitch?"

"Daddy," Dime moaned at a low tone, careful not to alarm anyone.

But the loud sounds of good fucking had half of the cell block stroking their wood, pressing their ears against the iron cell walls, tuning in like Sunday Night football.

Dime's power was transferred to Marcus Johnson, and he suddenly became the most feared man in the penal system literally overnight.

"I'm gonna ask you again, bitch!"

Marcus straddled that creamy ass like a bucking bull, grabbing Dime by the throat. He banged that hole out so good Dime started coming on himself.

"Sweet Dee, daddy! I'm coming, daddy! Give me that dick, nigga!

Marcus made his move. "Why did you kill Lou?"

"Because, Daddy, I didn't believe in that gay shit....damn, nigga, fuck me deeper."

Footsteps sounded along the start of the tier.

Cries of inmates coming, the sound of Marcus's name rolled off of sixty tongues.

The sounding of clanking keys and chits did nothing to break the blanket of lustful demons, bounding them by the weakness of the flesh.

"You broke your son's heart, yet you are taking this dick. So, you admit to killing a gay man because you saw a glimpse of your future and snubbed it. But you're a punk yourself, bitch!"

Marcus pulled Dime up to his feet, and swung on him, giving him brutal body shots, seeing red.

Dime fell to his knees, images of every inmate he ever hurt, random faces of those he knocked unconscious came to him in flashes.

Redemption.

Dime met his nemesis, the opposite of himself.

Blow after blow, Marcus broke him down, tore that lion a new French poodle ass, beat the bitch outta the bitch, avenged his cousin Lou's death and vindicated every unconscious inmate that was sold to horny inmates with deep pockets.

Marcus slapped the bitch.

"Wash your face while I get my cell in order," he commanded, "before the guards running up and down tiers figure out that I just beat your ass...You know what...I got a better idea. I know what I'm gonna do with you."

By the time the guards reached their cell, they were in their bunks, sound asleep.

It is not coming from Square's (Dime) cell, try the next one.

Badly bruised, Square tried to sleep, trying to figure out how he was going to kill Marcus for turning his secret operation into yesterday's news...

Over the next few weeks Marcus was the new King of the Jungle. Anything he could possibly want was granted to him. Inmates were giving him canteen, tons of stamped envelopes, weed, tobacco...pricey soap and body washes.

And the infamous Square's reputation and image was shot by the time the sun rose over a cell Marcus fucked him and took his institutionalized kingdom.

Marcus had no idea how many families of the rape victims behind those prison walls thanked him for retribution months after Square's assault found the streets...

It spread like wildfire...

Staring at himself in the mirror, he gave an inward smile...

Putting Square's ass on sale would be the first act of business...

Over the past twenty years, Dime BKA Square has been the top dog, the feared institution goon that was once five-oh, the sergeant of the police department. He used to steal a portion of money recovered from major drug busts and drove flashy cars, with all sorts of political resources in his pocket or on his payroll.

Dime was a huge dope dealer turned cop that never stopped dealing drugs by the kilo.

The cop thing was a smokescreen. And now he was the less feared Man of the prison, the weakest link. Marcus sold Dime's ass to the highest bidder.

Even a few guards got in on the action.

Marcus wasn't just the King, but he was fucking the OIC and his encounter with the Warden set him up for the next six years handsomely. With no hiccups.

Sweet Dee, you have a visitor.

Sweet Dee smiled, sliding into his starched jeans, looking himself over in the mirror.

"You handsome, like royalty, Sweet Dee."

Sweet Dee looked over the inmate at the bars, licking his lips, fondling the broom stick.

Snapping, Sweet Dee reached through the bars and rammed his head into them, leaning in his face.

Staring deep into his eyes, Sweet Dee said at a low, intimidating tone, "Get your clucking ass from my presence, lessor."

The trustee ran off.

Sweet Dee cell popped.

Sweet Dee, visit!

He slid his semi muscular arms into a neatly pressed shirt.

Snapping for Dime, he smiled, kissing Dimes forehead as his bitch buttoned his shirt.

"I have no idea who's visiting me. Clean up this cell."

The bars close

"Make sure you make it to the showers. You painted Picasso on my dick last night."

Sweet Dee spat in his face.

"I meant what I said. I fucks that ass every night. I suggest you switch to a liquid diet."

Pointing at the floor, Sweet Dee said, "If you shit on my dick ever again, I'm going to knock you unconscious, and let the indigent niggahs get some on the house pussy."

Laughing, Sweet Dee fist bump inmates, shaking hands and head nodded, approaching the iron stairs...

Thinking about what he saw when he grabbed his bearings after he pulled the plug on his father.

There was a letter sticking out from under his mattress.

He slowly took it into his hands.

Marcus Johnson

It was his father's handwriting.

He opened the envelope, pulling out the letter.