Date: Fri, 12 Nov 2021 14:14:42 +0200 From: Daemon D. Hart Subject: Prison Island - 37 Copyright 2021 -- Daemon D. Hart Please consider make a donation to Nifty! This site is unique on the net and deserves your support. Prison Island 37. Most nights, Karl slept wrapped around him from behind. It wasn't unusual to wake up with a hard cock in his ass and a hot tongue in his ear. Yet, tonight, after their last meal, Karl didn't come into the hut at all, just sending him ahead, and staying back to talk to Leon. What about, Francesco was curious. When Karl finally walked in, Francesco was still awake. He waited for the usual routine so that he could go to sleep, but Karl sat on his ass near the door, like he was on guard. "Hey," Francesco called softly. "Aren't you coming to bed?" "Not yet." "Why? What's going on?" Even in the dark, he could tell when Karl was tense. Any sleep he hoped to get was gone from his mind. His senses kicked in high alert. He walked over to Karl and sat by his side. "Well?" he insisted when the other said nothing. "Leon noticed some of our traps gone off," Karl explained. "And blood." "Could be animals, right?" A shrug followed. "Could be. Animals wearing shoes, heard of something like that? `Cause they left some pretty interesting tracks on the ground." Francesco fell silent, and his blood froze. "What?" he croaked. "Yeah. And that means two things." "That some people stumbled over those traps. That's one," Francesco agreed. "But what's the second?" Karl turned his head toward him. "They're new here. We barely have shoes anymore. The fuckers taking Anya that time were barefoot." Even Karl's combat boots were broken at the seams, and one of them lacked half a sole. Francesco's sneakers had almost disintegrated and he wore them as sleepers. Therefore, he couldn't contradict Karl. "What does that mean?" "We need to prepare. If there are people still figuring out how to survive, they could want to take over our camp, get a few slaves to fuck and put to work, things like that. They barely got here or else we should have learned about them by now, which means that they're in good shape, and the first pangs of hunger will make them act while they're still fit for battle." Francesco felt his throat going dry. All this time, he had forgotten how to be afraid. Now, with Karl's words, the reality of their situation struck him. "What are we going to do?" "For now, we wait. Mouse went on recon." "Mouse?" Karl grabbed him by the back of the neck before he had the chance to jump to his feet. "Yes. He knows what to look for and how to go in and out unnoticed. Why the hell do you think he's called Mouse?" Francesco had to admit that he had never really wondered about it. But still, his stomach was all knots and he couldn't stay still. Karl moved fast to overpower him and caught him underneath his strong body. "You're not going after him if that's what you're thinking." Francesco went limp under Karl's weight. "Of course not. I have half a brain." Truth be told, he had no idea what to do. But he felt restless and scared. "I'll protect you," Karl said. "All of you." He caressed Francesco's face but in an absentminded manner which could only mean that he had a bunch of things on his mind without having to deal with a scared shitless crybaby. "How many could they be, these people?" he asked, his throat dry and scratchy. "More than two, for sure. But we cannot know if their group isn't larger. That chopper doesn't bother for an inmate or two, right?" It wasn't a real question since they could both guess the answer. New people on the island, hungry, waiting for the right moment to strike. Francesco didn't feel prepared at all, no matter how much they had worked for months to protect their camp with traps and whatnot. Karl let him go, and he returned to bed. "You should catch some sleep. No way of telling when you'll get to do that again if they're on us." "Like I could sleep," Francesco protested. "Suit yourself. I will." "You're standing there, on your ass. How the hell are you sleeping?" "I have my methods. Don't you worry about me. Until Mouse comes back with what he knows, no point in wasting energy. Sleep, Cesco." "Can I at least sleep by your side? Or better, why don't you come to bed?" Karl huffed in irritation. "Sometimes I wonder why I needed a wife in the first place." "I'm not a wife, but a hole to fuck," Francesco replied, just as pissed off. "Holes," Karl cared to correct him. He turned and rested his back against one of the walls. "Come here, Cesco." Francesco moved again and sat by Karl's side. He didn't protest when Karl pushed him down until his head rested in the guy's lap. Still, when a rough hand brushed through his hair in a clumsy caress, he gasped in surprise. "What now?" Karl asked roughly. "Nothing. It feels nice," he replied. "Good. Now sleep. Or I'll spank you into tomorrow." Francesco wrapped his arms around Karl's leg and relaxed. The steady move of Karl's hand through his hair soon helped him drift off. *** Mouse sat cross-legged and held eye contact with Karl. Everyone sat in a circle, waiting with bated breath for the info the redhead had to share. Francesco felt his entire stomach in knots and didn't even dare to breathe properly. "Five men, all in good shape. One is a bit injured, from the traps, but otherwise, they look able-bodied to me. They didn't move forward then probably afraid of any other nasty surprises," Mouse started. "Where are they camped?" Karl asked. Mouse used a stick and began drawing lines in the dirt, explaining along the way. "Unlike us, these guys have food rations with them and good clothes." "Motherfucker," Francesco said through his teeth. "Could it be that they're not inmates at all?" "What are they, then, if not inmates?" Anya asked. Karl had a dark look on his face. "There are two ways to deal with this. We wait for them, or we go after them." "Go after them?" Francesco shouted but then he fell silent and looked down. Karl knew better. Unlike him who only knew how to shoot a sling, he had proper training. Mouse could hold his own, and Leon, too. But he, Ollie, Ty, and Anya felt pretty much like deadweight at this point. And even Karl, Leon, and Mouse were just young men who couldn't compare to five grownups, well fed and eager for some action. Yeah, it had been nothing but summer camp until now. But shit was just getting real, and Francesco would be shaking in his shoes, that if he still had any, which he didn't. "These fuckers won't spare no mercy when they come for us," Karl started talking, while looking at each of them in turn. "Inmates or not, they're bad news." "Do we know that for sure?" Francesco asked in a meek voice. "Could it be they're just hunters or something?" Karl locked his eyes with his briefly. There was something in his look that told anyone who cared to pay attention that he didn't give a fuck if that was the truth. "They're not hunters," Mouse intervened. "I doubt hunters talk about fresh meat like that. Should I clue you in? It's not game meat they're interested in." "What did you hear them talking?" Francesco asked. Mouse worked his jaw a little. "You sure you want me to tell you what I heard?" "Yeah," Francesco replied, although he could feel his knees shaking a little. "We're not kids anymore, right? Just tell us." Mouse moved his eyes slowly over them. "They saw Ty first. One of them," he continued calmly, "said something about wanting to eagle spread him and fuck him with his foot." Francesco worked his jaw and looked down. Mouse had no reason to lie, so maybe it wasn't such a good idea to force him to speak. "Should I continue?" Mouse asked. Francesco shook his head, but it was Ty and Anya who said almost at the same time. "Yes, tell us everything." "They said something about not wanting Leon," Mouse said next. "Too strong for a slave, they said, hard to use, and too ugly to fuck. One of them said that he'd take care of slashing his throat first." "Which means they have knives," Karl pointed out. Francesco felt horrible over insisting to have Mouse talk. He stole a quick look at Ollie whose face looked like stone, his eyes, usually warm and playful, now cold and determined. "And they saw you from afar, too," Mouse said, looking directly at him. "But I'll be damned if I tell you to your face what they said about you while joking about it." Francesco hunched his shoulders. "You told the others," he murmured. "I should get no special treatment." "And I refuse because I can," Mouse said flatly. Uncomfortable silence fell over their group. "What are we going to do?" Francesco asked, unnerved by how no one was saying anything. "We vote," Karl said. "Who's for going after these fuckers and eliminate the threat?" He put his hand up and looked at them. Mouse followed, and Francesco felt his arm rising before even thinking. Everyone else did the same. "Good," Karl said and put his arm down. "We won't sit here like rats, waiting, scared shitless. We'll make a plan and we'll move on them soon. Don't forget, boys. In a few days time, we have a chopper to catch." *** It was risky to go search for Mouse with Karl on guard, but he needed to have a one-on-one with him before the shit hit the fan. Things could go bad, really bad. No matter how well trained Karl was, they were a bunch of kids going against a group of men who had all the advantages against them, strength, full bellies, all that. "Where are you going?" He stopped at the sound of Karl's voice. At this point, all bets were off, so it wouldn't help to lie to him right now. "I want to talk to Mouse." He didn't turn and waited for Karl to reach him. "What about?" "You know. Maybe this is the last time when I ever get to do it." Karl squeezed the back of his neck hard and forced him to make eye contact. "Stop being such a downer, Cesco. We're going to be fine." Still, Karl's pupils were moving a bit too fast, he was blinking too much. "I'm scared," Francesco admitted. "Did you see Morgan around? He could help us, like he did that time." "No, no Morgan this time," Karl replied. "How can you be so sure?" "I'm sure," Karl snapped at him. A new fear coiled in his gut as he took in Karl's face. "Fuck. You know something. Who are these guys?" Francesco whispered. "Hunters." The word was spat through clenched teeth. "Didn't you think so?" "Oh, yeah? What the fuck are they hunting?" He really didn't need an answer to that, and Karl didn't offer any. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets hard. "Who sent them?" He had no idea if he wanted to know the truth. "Karl, fuck, just say something. I'm pissing my pants here." Karl's hand on his neck was hard. Another squeeze and a shake, and finally some words left the other guy's mouth. "I'm taking care of you. Don't worry." "Me? What about the others?" Karl let out a laugh that didn't sound like himself at all. "All of you. I was trained for this, remember?" Francesco pushed Karl's arm away, but not to get away from him like other times. Instead, he wrapped his arms around him and pressed his head against one muscular shoulder. "I love you, okay, fucker?" he said in a low whisper. "So tell me what you need from me, from us. These guys, they were sent for you? Like, specifically?" He could tell Karl was working his jaw. "Let's call it a rite of passage," the answer came after a while. "Fucking rite of passage. They're some kind of criminals, aren't they?" "Don't tell the others," Karl said, his entire body taut. "You're the only one who knows." "More like I guessed. And I'm not even sure what I guessed. Don't worry; I won't tell anyone anything. No need to add fuel to the fire, right?" "You could tell them, and then take a hike," Karl said in a wooden voice. "Leave me to deal with the shit." "Like I'd be crazy to do that." Karl pushed him only so that they could look at each other. The blue eyes were filled with uncertainty. "Are you siding with me? For real? You're not even going to tell Mouse?" "No." Francesco pressed himself hard against Karl and grabbed his face in his hands. "I'm on your side." Finally, Karl let out a breath. "Okay. But stay here, don't go after Mouse. He knows how to move around, unlike you." "Thanks for the vote of confidence, fucker," Francesco said, but with no anger. "You wanted to ask him, right? About what those bastards said about you?" "Mouse thinks I'm made of glass. He's wrong," Francesco tried to sound sure of himself. "Yeah. He doesn't know you like I do." Still, the good old jealousy. But Francesco couldn't hold it against him. Loving two men at the same time was fucking complicated. "So, are you going to tell me or not?" But Karl hesitated, so Francesco nudged him. "How horrible can it be?" Karl bore his eyes into his. "Ever heard of snuff porn?" Francesco swallowed hard. Then he nodded. "Well, that," Karl said shortly. "Yeah, you were right, they're some kind of criminals. The worst kind." No need for other commentary. Francesco let his chin in his chest and willed his heart to start beating again because it felt like it had stopped altogether. Karl brushed his rough hands over his cheeks. "Don't worry, Cesco. They won't hurt you. I'll fucking hurt them." tbc For early access to chapters and other short stories, visit my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/daemon-d-hart The last short story available for my subscribers is called Wrong Hole, and it's about how a twink crushing on a hot thug gets the cock he wants in his hole seemingly by accident. You can read a fragment from it here: https://daemondhart.blogspot.com/2021/11/wrong-hole-short-story-fragment-tyler.html