Copyright 2021 -- Daemon D. Hart
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Prison Island
Karl sat by his side as the smell of cooked meat rose into the evening air.
"Don't go sucking dick behind my back, or we'll have a problem, Cesco," Karl hissed in his ear.
"Not everyone's obsessed with sex like you. And get it through your thick skull already, Karl. I'm fucking straight."
Karl laughed, low and dangerous. "How many women did you fuck?"
"None of your fucking business. Do you want to jerk off to stories of my girlfriends or something?"
Karl threw him a weird look. Maybe he wasn't that much off the mark with that. Francesco shrugged and sank his teeth into the meat roasted over the fire. It was hard and stringy, but it the best meal he had ever had.
He ignored Karl's hard stare as he ate. From time to time, he looked over at Mouse who was across from him. Their eyes met, and his heart beat faster.
He was sleeping soundly when someone began shaking his shoulder.
"Hey, Cesco, wake up."
He blinked a few times. "Karl?"
"Come with me a little."
He didn't want to do that. All the warnings from Mouse came back to him, but refusing Karl made him a pussy, and he could do without that. After all, what could Karl do? Unless he pulled out that knife on him, he could handle Karl.
"Okay," he said and rubbed his eyes.
He followed as they walked a bit away from the camp, and stopped when he stopped.
"Well, not bad for a first day, huh?" Karl began.
"I suppose." Francesco was on guard. Who knew what the asshole wanted?
"Am I a good leader or what?"
Francesco snorted. "Are you looking for my approval or something?"
"Yeah. I want to know what you think."
"Why?"
Karl came closer, filling him with apprehension. "Because I care about that."
Francesco fought against his gut instinct telling him to flee. Karl was so close now that he could feel his breath. "Oh, right. Where does that fit between you spouting all that bullshit about wanting to fuck my ass and this?"
"I want to fuck your ass," Karl said matter-of-factly.
"Seriously, dude. You've never have a girlfriend? Like never?"
Karl tsked. "And you have? You still didn't tell me how many."
"More than your accusation counts." Francesco crossed his arms, trying to look unintimidated.
Their eyes were getting accustomed to the dark and the faint light of the moon. Still, it was a scent of something dangerous coming from Karl putting him on the edge, and not what he could see.
"Tell me about that. Tell me about those pussies," Karl said heatedly.
"I don't kiss and tell, idiot."
Karl laughed. "Ah, so you're full of crap."
Francesco could feel the advantage slipping through his fingers. "I'm not. Maybe you've never had a girlfriend because you're an asshole with girls."
"You're the asshole, Cesco. Oh, fuck, I bet you're so tight," Karl whispered and grabbed him suddenly.
They fell to the ground, Karl on top of him and grinding against him like an animal in heat. Francesco set his jaw hard and tried to push against his attacker. Karl was so much stronger it was frightening.
Karl stuck out his tongue and began licking Francesco's face anywhere he could. "Fuck, I can barely wait," he continued.
Karl's tool was hard and poking him in the groin. To his horror, Francesco sensed his cock reacting to that. He hated this asshole, and his cock was a retard. Karl pinned his wrists above his head and tried to stick his tongue inside his mouth. Francesco moved his head around not wanting that after having kissed Mouse earlier.
He didn't want to be forced again, and especially not by an asshole the same age as him. Once he got branded a bitch, his life was over.
Francesco thrashed and whimpered as Karl lodged his hard cock right against his, making him part his legs and buck his hips. Suddenly, the pressure was gone and he saw Karl being lifted off him like a toy.
Leon's tall stature came into view. "Leave Francesco alone, Karl," he said in a stern voice.
"Hey, hey, we were just playing," Karl protested, but Leon grabbed him by the back of the neck and led him away.
Then, Mouse appeared in his view, lending him a hand so that he could get up.
"Thanks," Francesco murmured.
"What the hell, man?" Mouse whispered angrily. "I told you not to get alone with this fucker, didn't I?"
Francesco rebelled at that. "You're not my fucking mom."
"Oh, yeah? So you want his cock in your ass?"
"No, what the hell?"
"Then stop being stupid, Kekko. Leon wasn't happy when I woke him up to come here to save your sorry ass."
"You did?"
"Yeah, I followed you two here. I cannot take Karl, and I'm not insane to go against him. He would wreck me. Leon is the only one who can stand up to him and put him down. But we shouldn't abuse his goodwill, right?"
Francesco nodded, chastised. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry about it. And thanks." He rubbed his wrists where Karl had kept them in a vice-like grip.
"What did he do?" Mouse took his hands and began caressing them.
"Nothing," Francesco denied. "Thanks to you and Leon."
"Let's go back," Mouse said.
Francesco walked after him and before they reached the camp, he patted Mouse's shoulder. "I really mean it, man," he said when Mouse turned.
He walked closer and took Mouse in his arms. The other boy said nothing as Francesco took his lips and this time made it count. He moved his lips slowly and used his tongue to tease. He kept in a smile as Mouse began sucking gently on his tongue. Maybe he wasn't good with kisses, but Mouse looked like he knew how to use his mouth, after all.
How would it be to have his cock regaled with a full-on treatment by that sweet mouth? But no, he needed to stay away from that. For all everyone else knew, he was straight. He didn't need to give Karl any reason to think otherwise.
Mouse giggled as Francesco let go. "What was that for?"
"Saving me. Hey, I know it's not much, but I can teach you how to kiss."
"That would be nice," Mouse said. "I'll take it."
They went to sleep, each one in his own lean-on tent. Francesco peered at the night sky. His blood was running hot after tonight. He had to say thanks to Leon, too. And Mouse was an awesome ally.
If it weren't for Karl, everything would be great.
Francesco woke up in a confusing clamor. There were shouts everywhere, and someone yelled, "Run!"
He didn't stop and think. He shot up to his feet only to witness everyone scattering in all directions. Mouse was nowhere to be seen, and he could be out hunting already. He didn't hesitate and didn't waste one moment. Following the others was a no go, as everyone seemed to run away from a point in the middle. He took off toward the mountain, his feet as fast as they could be.
It felt as if he was running forever when he stopped by a natural cave. His lungs were burning, and his legs were shaking. He dropped to the ground and tried to catch his breath.
The sound of a nearby stream drew his attention after a while. He headed over and began gulping down mouthfuls, uncaring whether that water was safe or not. And then he lay on the ground, incapable of moving.
It wasn't that his muscles and lungs were done for. He was scared. Someone had stumbled upon their little camp. That meant that there were others on the island, hardened criminals if what he had learned about the place beforehand was true.
He let his forehead touch the moist shore. He felt alone and his heart was full of fear.
"Oh, fuck, Cesco, there you are."
Francesco shot up to his feet and found himself face to face with Karl. There was a thin trail of blood running down his cheek from his temple, and he had a wild look in his eyes. "What the hell happened?" he asked, his heart in his throat.
"We got attacked," Karl said.
"By who?"
Karl shrugged. "Nobody stayed to see, right? But I fought one and I think I got him."
Francesco noticed the bloody knife in Karl's hand only then. He took a step back. Karl let out a small sob and wiped his forehead with the back of the hand holding the knife. "I killed him. I'm sure."
"Not much else you could do," Francesco said warily.
Karl's eyes set on him. He dropped his hand. "I killed him so that I could keep your pussy ass safe."
"What? You killed him so that you didn't get killed. How is that on me?"
Karl walked closer, his eyes never blinking. "How about being a little grateful, huh?"
Francesco swallowed hard and searched for a way out with his eyes. The stream was behind him, and Karl was blocking the way on one side. He had one chance and sprinted to the right.
Karl let out a roar and followed him.
He had always been a good runner, and now had a good motivation, too. If he didn't run fast enough, he would end up with a knife in his back.
"Stop running, bitch," Karl shouted after him.
No way, no way, he wouldn't stop if it killed him. For a second, he tried to look back, to see how far behind Karl was.
Bad choice. His foot met something hard, and in a split second, he was tumbling down a small hill. He tried to soothe the fall by pulling his arms and legs close to his body, but at the foot of the hill, he ended on his back, with an excruciating pain in his right ankle. He groaned in pain and grabbed the aching foot.
He had to get up. Loud steps let him know he was too late. Karl was on him in a moment. Francesco let go of his foot to put his hands in front, in a helpless effort to fend off the attack.
Karl straddled him and grabbed his wrists. "Got you," he said in a playful tone.
Where was the knife? Francesco tried to look, but he couldn't do much with his wrists pinned over his head like that.
From above, Karl looked at him with glee. "Fuck, you so pretty," he purred. "I'm gonna fuck you now, Cesco, get it?"
"No," Francesco grunted as he tried to free his hands.
Karl used only one hand to keep him like that. His thighs were squeezing Francesco's hips. "You'll be my girl, Cesco," he whispered and made a move to kiss him.
For lack of anything else to do, Francesco spat in Karl's face. The guy stopped and threw him a dangerous look. He didn't make a move to wipe up the spit. Instead, he squeezed Francesco's wrists harder, making him open his mouth and gasp.
Francesco felt his stomach revolting when Karl took advantage and dropped a glob of spit in his mouth. He turned his head to one side and retched.
"That's not nice. You started it," Karl said.
The pain in his ankle was unbearable. He whimpered as Karl used something to secure his wrists together. He tried to kick as Karl took off his jeans and underwear, and sobbed when he felt spit landing on his balls.
Desperately, he made an attempt to roll away, but Karl grabbed his injured ankle, making him howl.
"Why the fuck do you scream so much?" Karl pushed his legs apart and climbed on top of him. "I only want to fuck you."
tbc