Date: Thu, 7 Jul 2016 20:36:16 +0000 (UTC)
From: abbottjustin16@yahoo.com
Subject: LatinCollegeDudeMindControl10

Chapter 10

And then he disappeared.  I had no idea what happened.  I immediately
thought back to what Iker had told me about how Emiliano just left college
for the summer break and was impossible to contact.

It went on for three days. I was slowly going nuts.  I missed him so much.
I went to his classes for him, did his homework, and after the first
twenty- four hours of silence, I texted and called him relentlessly.  But
there was no response.

I would have gladly gone over to do laundry, clean the place, or make him
things to eat.  I would even have gone on dates to make him money.  But
nothing.  And I was so horny for his cock.  All I could think about was him
shirtless, sagging in his CK's and being a tease.

Finally, on the fourth day I went over there, because even Iker hadn't
heard from him.  I knocked and knocked but there was no answer. I thought
maybe I would just sit there in the hall, outside his door, like a puppy.
I had brought his homework and a bottle of water, in case I had to wait.

Finally, a fat woman opened the door to her place, across the hall.  She
had a cigarette in her mouth and wore sweatpants and just a bra.  "He ain't
coming home any time soon, the bastard."

"What do you mean" I stammered, getting up from the floor.

"Pigs took his crazy ass away a few days ago, finally.  Mean prick.  Got
what he deserved.  Always nasty to us and arrogant too."

"But for what?" I asked.

"Rape, s'far as I heard it" she said.

Rape, I thought?  Emiliano didn't need to rape anybody.  People begged him
for his body.

"No way" I answered.

"Yup.  Heard the cops say it was some waitress, and Mr. God's Gift to Women
finally got caught."

"Where would they take him?" I asked.

"Sounded like the OPP" she said.

I'd heard of it.  Everybody in town knew of the infamous Orleans Parish
Prison.  It was a madhouse, an out of control place filled with of corrupt
guards and staff and who gives a fuck inmates, the worst of the worst in
the state.

I immediately bolted, and got back in his old car.  I headed downtown.
Turned out it was still early enough for visiting hours.  I waited an hour
and finally he was brought out to see me.

He looked none the worse for wear.  His hair was a little longer and a
little greasy and he had four days-worth of scruff on his face.  He wore
just a dirty wife-beater and some sagging orange prison jump pants.

He sat down in a plastic chair, and looked at me through the bullet proof
glass window.  He took up a phone and I copied him, concerned.

I spoke first.  "Emiliano, what happened?  Why didn't you call me for help
or bail?"

He replied cautiously and quietly.  "Listen faggot, I don't want you coming
around here.  Bad for business, if you get me.

And unless your family's richer than I think, and stupid too, they don't
have enough money for rape bail.  I know my family don't.  So get the fuck
oughta' here and don't come back.  These niggers in here will carve your
skinny white faggot ass up into their own personal cunt.

I gulped, and tried to express some worry about his safety, but he cut me
off.

"I never really liked you.  I just used you for stuff and money.  You
weren't even that good of a cocksucker.  Your boyfriend sucked my dick much
better.  Fuck off."  And he hung up and got up, never looking back.

I was too stunned to leave at first.  Finally, a guard rousted me and sent
me on my way.  When I got back to Emiliano's car, someone had smashed in
the back window.

I drove around and around, confused, badly hurt, and adrift.  I finally
found myself just off Bourbon Street, and went into a small, dirty old bar.
Eight rum and cokes later I found myself in an alley behind the bar,
getting fucked up the ass by a guy in a pair of leather jeans and a grey
sleeveless tee, who used a little lube on me but no condom.

When he was done, he turned me around and smacked me across the face,
calling me a dirty faggot whore.  Cum ran down from my ass.  I sat down and
cried.  Not for me, but for Emiliano.  He needed me.  And I hadn't coming
up with a plan, just got drunk.

I managed to drive most of the way home before I ran off the road near the
campus and hit a parked car.  As luck would have it, a cop was across the
street and saw everything.  He gave me a DUI test, which I failed
miserably, and I found myself at the precinct, sleeping it off.

The next day around eight a detective had me brought to an interrogation
room.  He pressed me to plead guilty and get it wrapped up.  Suddenly, a
thought occurred to me.  I asked him if I would be released or locked up,
after I copped a plea.

It turned out I would have been released if I made bail.  If I didn't make
bail, I'd head to the OPP.  My mind was made up easily.  I told him no one
would bail me out, but I would plead guilty if he agreed to have me locked
up as a cellmate of an Emiliano Delgado.

I could tell he thought it was weird, but a guilty plea this easy was hard
to pass up.  He suddenly started treating me differently too.  The request
to be bunked with a prisoner didn't seem street to him, but more probably
gay.  He started making jokes about a skinny white boy like me needing to
find a protector in a place like Orleans Parish.

But I knew this was my lucky day.  I had a one-way ticket to be re-united
with Emiliano, and I was gonna' do whatever he said, and make sure I took
good care of him while he was in the joint.

The paperwork took some time, but around five they came to take me to the
OPP.  There was a lot of barbed wire, that's what I remember most.  I had
never been in a place like this, being an upper middle class white kid from
the suburbs.

I had to strip to be searched, changed into prison underwear, orange jump
pants, and a white wife-beater.  I was given shower sandals.  They took my
wallet, cell, and street clothes.  They handed me a small pile of prison
clothes. They told me the rules. The guard smirked when he said "I hear you
figured out a way to get in the same cell with your boyfriend."

Finally, he led me to my new cell.  My heart pounded so fast I thought I
would die.  Emiliano would be so glad to see me, and would marvel at my
ingenuity!  He's let me keep the place clean, I'd watch his back and he'd
watch mine, and when we were alone he'd let me blow him.  It was perfect.

As we walked, we passed dozens of cells.  Most the inmates were black or
Latino.  Most had braids or dreads.  And they were almost all shirtless.  I
must have been the only guy in the place without any ink. A 6' 3" brother,
no more than 19, grabbed his crotch and blew me a kiss.  Further down a
muscular dude, his body gleaming with sweat, had his pants so low that you
could see the outline of his hard on in his grey prison underwear.  He
stroked it and glared.

The guard ran his club along the bars, waking Emiliano up from a nap.
"Asshole, your boyfriend is here."

Emiliano looked up from his bunk, rubbing his eyes.  He couldn't believe
that it was me.  I smiled, so ready to be welcomed!

"What the fuck?" he said.  "You can't be serious.  I don't want this faggot
in my cell."

"Tough shit, tough guy.  Apparently his daddy or somebody pulled some
strings so you two could be together.  Never seen that before, but here he
is, ready to be fucked!"

My heart hammered from the excitement, his lack of enthusiasm, and the
possibility that he would fuck me.

The guard pushed me in, and I fell, and dropped my extra clothes.  He just
slammed the door closed and walked away, muttering "Fuckin' faggots."

I looked up expectantly.  Emiliano got up and grabbed me by the throat.  He
threw me on his bunk.  "You fuckin' queer.  How dare you pull a stunt like
this?" he was furious, but he kept his voice low.

He pulled his prison pants and underwear down, exposing his big, tattooed
cock.  Sure enough it was hard already.  He always got instantly hard when
he was beating on someone.

He leapt on the bunk, straddling me. "This what you went to all this
trouble to have, freak?" and he plunged his long, steel hard cock into my
mouth.  I opened all the way, prepared to deep throat him, as it was so
long it would have to go down my throat a little.

He proceeded to mouth fuck me for about three minutes.  I choked a few
times but mostly took the punishing.  I wanted his cock in me so bad.  He
pounded my face, his heavy balls banging against my chin.

Under his breath, he muttered "You fuckin' cocksucker.  You nasty little
faggot freak.  This what you been dreamin' about?" and he finally released
his load down my throat.

I swallowed it all gratefully, and then lay still, awaiting my punishment.
He punched me in the gut, then slapped me viciously across the face. He
stood up and pissed all over me. "That's your bed now, cunt."

And with that he moved over to his new bunk, pulling his pants up, and
falling into a dead sleep.  He needed that, I knew, and I was so glad that
I was here to give him what he needed.

THE END



Thanks for reading guys, and for all the helpful and twisted story ideas
and suggestions.  I heard you, that many chapters were too short, but it
was fun to write, especially when you have a loyal following.

A danger in writing in the first person is that some of you thought I was
Emiliano's punk, but I'm not really like him at all.  Anyway it was a blast
and I'm glad I got you off.

For photos of what I imagined Emiliano to look like, google 'Brazilian male
model Marlon".

Justin				abbottjustin16@yahoo.com