Sugardaddy's 7

Chapter 10

Day 6

Ron and I really hit it off, as we both tell each other about our days as pornstars. Apparently this guy was really famous or something, but he says he got sent to maximum security after impregnating a 12 year old and murdering her with a box cutter. What a shame. The dude seems like a really nice guy.

Not once do I think of Ladasha until now, because she probably would have something funny to say about this. Whatever. I was hungry as shit.

Ron says he sneaked in some of his special penis enlargement pills. He asks me if I need any, and I say "Thanks, but I already have an 11 inch dick."

"You can never, ever have a penis that's too big." He says.

"I guess you're right." I say as I gobble some down and keep the rest of the pills for later by stuffing them up my asshole.
I really have nothing to do in my cell so I jack off with my blood coated left hand. I cum gallons all over my hand and pubes. After that I fall asleep. I dream of myself masturbating so much I die right here in this cell. I wake up, and jack off again. It takes me at least an hour or two to cum so approximately 5 hours have passed. I don't know exactly because I'm not one of those fags who wear watches.

But then I hear metal clashing against steel. Broken shackles rub against one another and the sound echoes down corridors. It becomes closer to our cell as it boosts in decibel level. Once the source of the sound is right in front of our cell, I am astounded to see who it is. Satan, in his true form.

"Let's get you the fuck out of this cell." He says. He examines me and asks, "Have you been jacking it?" Satan points to my spluge drenched pubic hairs and fist.

Now I kinda feel stupid and overwhelmed. "Yes I have." I pause. "Why are you freeing me?"

"'Cause it isn't fair to have you locked up in a cell when you could be honoring our deal." He replies while fiddling with a lock pick.

"Since when does the Prince of Darkness care about what's fair?"

"You want to know what's not fair? Ever since the 80's Jesus Christ has only allowed Mexicans into heaven. Jesus can lick a dick, now I got the gates of Hell full of them damn dirty Asians!" Satan says.

"Oh, that must suck." I scratch the back of my neck.

"You bet," He says as he successfully opens the lock and tells us to run. Ron Jeremy's kinda fat so I'm thinking of telling Satan to leave him behind. But I don't due to the heat of the moment.

The prison I was locked in is really big, as we've been running for a while. But somehow we manage to escape without being spotted. JK I lied. Satan and I killed like 4 prison guards on our way out. But that's not important.

Once we escape, Satan tells us to jump in his flaming Hellmobile. It looks like a giant red Ford F-150 monster truck with a Hellhound for a grill. Flames spew from the exhaust. He then tells me "Sugardaddy, you've got time for one more act of terror. Do you know what you want to do?"

"Yes Satan." I smile. "I know exactly what I'm gonna do."

We drive far away from the facility, all the way to the White House in Washington D.C.
We step out of the Hellmobile, looking like complete badasses. The only thing that would make us look cooler was if we were wearing sunglasses and I didn't smell like body odor and cum.

"Sugardaddy, you know what you gotta do, let me take care of the rest." Satan says.

"Ok, thanks." I reply without gazing at him.

We walk past the secret service patrolling the gates of the White House without hesitation. Satan then goes batshit crazy and transforms into a mega demon with claws and fangs. He decapitates the guards and splits their bodies in half, entrails flying in every which way. He then screams and tells me and Ron Jeremy to run.

I make my way down a long corridor when I see the entrance to the Oval Office. I proceed to dash over there when I hear gunfire, gasping, and choking. And turn around and see Ron Jeremy on the floor in a puddle of blood with a bullethole in his neck. Whatever, I barely knew the poor bastard.

I fail to help Ron, rather I race inside the office and find the one and only, Barrack Obama all by himself. Weak and vulnerable. I go up to him and attack and he tries to retaliate but all in vain.

I grip my fists around his giraffe-like throat and begin to squeeze. I feel pleasure in looking him in his eyes, watching his soul leave his body as he struggles for his last breath. I laugh a malevolent chuckle and form a smile wider than the Grand Canyon. His face goes pale for someone who's half black, and I drop him to the floor. I leave a note written in my crude handwriting saying "Blame China". That should be enough to spark a World War 3.