The Inmate's Play Thing

One

Constantly I'm reminded how delicate I am as I'm roughly pulled into the arms of Jonas Tucker, the leader of the small mafia that 'adopted' me the minute I was kicked into this hell hole.
He gripped his firm arm around my torso and forced me deeper into his lap.
My gaze drifted down away from his face as the lunch hour dragged on.
I hate sitting on his lap.. I hate being in his grip and I hate him in general.
That snude smirk on his face, The way he has so much control over me, the way just one look can make me shudder and crawl in my skin.
I can't exactly hate him though..
He's the one keeping me from having an ass looser than the flabby arm skin of a grandma's forearm.
A sudden growl in my right ear snapped me out of my thoughts and a small flinch caused my shoulders to jump.
"Jackson, if you keep moving that tight ass of yours around on my lap I don't know how well I'll be able to control myself."
His gritty, rough voice groans out.
I cringe slowly as I realize what that thing poking at my bottom is.
Fucking wonderful...
I think to myself.
"Sorry..." I mumbled out tiredly. It's not that I haven't gotten enough sleep, I'm just tired of being with him.. with them, traded off to a new pervert's lap each day.
His rough, calloused hand grips my cheeks, my chin resting in his palm as his fingers dig into my left cheek and his thumb digs into my right.
A small tremble shoots through my spine. I'd hate to admit it but it's fear.
"Is that attitude, kid?"
He spits out sharply.
The thing with Jonas tucker is if you keep your mouth shut at the right times then you're fine, but god forbid if you open your mouth at the wrong time then you'll end up like I was about a week ago; a shaking mess with a bright red ass.
Choosing my words carefully, my blue eyes started at my lap and my small pale hands played with each other as I gave him a quick yet quiet answer.
"No sir, I'm sorry, I'm a little tired."
His expression softened but he still had that same shit eating look on his face.
"Hmm... were the boys keeping you up last night?"
He smirked.
I consciously brought a hand up to my sore throat and forced a small nod.
No matter how many blowjobs I give, my voice is still raspy after each one.
His hand gripped at the back of my head and he held a fistful of my auburn hair.
"They should know better than to mess with my play thing~"
He roughly attacked my lips with his sandpaper-like tongue and practically shoved it down my throat, claiming me as his again.
I gagged and clenched my eyes shut.
To be honest.. I'd rather give a blowjob to some salty old cock than have him shove his unworthy tongue down my throat.
I had wanted to save that for someone special but that just added to the list of things he's stolen from me.