Date: Wed, 2 Jun 2021 13:29:13 +0300
From: Daemon D. Hart <daemondhart2@gmail.com>
Subject: Prison Island - 5

Copyright 2021 -- Daemon D. Hart

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Prison Island

5.

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