Copyright 2021 -- Daemon D. Hart
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Prison Island
"Can we go somewhere Mouse can't hear us?" Francesco stole a nervous look at the mouth of the cave.
Morgan finally turned and nodded. "So it's about Ahab." He kept his voice down. "Don't worry. From this distance, he can't hear us."
"Yeah, it's about him." Francesco looked down. "You know what he's in for, right?"
Morgan nodded.
"And you didn't tell me," he added and stopped, afraid of how accusing that sounded.
"It couldn't do you any good," Morgan replied. "I wanted you to have your own opinion of him. He told you?"
Francesco nodded. He raised his head, his eyes full of tears. Morgan sighed and offered him a sympathetic smile. He put a hand on his shoulder and helped him moved away a bit.
"Can you help him?" he blurted out.
Morgan caressed his hair and his cheeks. Francesco felt a sinking sensation in his stomach when the man shook his head.
"Why?" His voice raised for a moment. He clamped his mouth shut.
"It could cost me everything. I have some leeway here, but not outside the island. Let's say that people have tried to escape in the past. All ways out are closely monitored."
Francesco bit his lips hard. Suddenly, Morgan's tenderness was annoying him. He brushed his hands away. "And? Aren't you some big shot? Can't you smuggle him out or something? You're doing it for Anya, aren't you?" He knew it wasn't the same thing, and that he wasn't even rational, but he didn't care. He hadn't dared to hope much, but now it still felt like crap to know he had hoped for nothing.
"What I do for Anya is agreed upon up the ladder. And I'm not smuggling him out." Morgan didn't seem upset of his outburst. "Sorry, kid. You'll need someone with much more clout than me for this."
Francesco looked up. "Karl," he said and set his lips hard.
Morgan blinked a couple of times and frowned. "That a good idea?"
Francesco closed his fists. "It's the only idea."
He turned to walk away but Morgan caught his arm. "What are you thinking, Francesco? Talk to me."
He stopped but didn't face the guy. He hated him right now. "I'll let him fuck my brains out. Then I'll ask him. Don't worry. You don't have to tell me. I'm not that good a fuck. But that doesn't mean that I won't try."
Morgan let out an aggravated huff. "What do you think Karl can do? Even if he wanted?"
Francesco saw red in front of his eyes. He pushed himself into Morgan's face. "Why did you tell me to take care of him? Why? When you knew he got sentenced to remain here after we left? For all his fucking life? Can you fucking tell me?"
He hadn't realized that he had raised his fist until Morgan caught his wrist and then pulled him into a tight hug. He was crying softly so Morgan cradled him in his arms for a while.
"I'll talk to a lawyer, someone who knows the ropes. I'll see if we can get a shorter sentence for him seeing that he's young and has nobody to look after him."
"How shorter?" Francesco sniffled.
Morgan sighed. "Ten if we work a miracle."
"Ten?" His stomach sank. "Can he even survive here for so long?"
Morgan didn't answer. He knew it anyhow.
"Then I just have to get real good at blowjobs and putting my ass up. Karl's my only chance."
"Francesco," Morgan warned. "All right," he added seeing that he was getting no answer, "you could try. Nothing's worse than feeling like you're not doing anything. But I'll still work on a way to make things easier for Ahab. As much as I can."
Francesco wiped his tears. There was no point on depending on Morgan. He was just a little gear in that machinery, and he should have realized that.
"I'm sorry if you offered your boyfriend up expecting to get me to help him escape from here," Morgan said.
There was no reproach in the man's voice, but Francesco still felt like he was held under a magnifying glass, and his actions judged. "No," he said stubbornly. "That's not why I did it."
"No?" Morgan seemed surprised. He was still holding him, and his tree trunk like arms felt so falsely reassuring. "Then why?"
"You've got a good cock," Francesco said. "I wanted him to enjoy it, too."
Morgan was gentle as he caressed his face. He tipped his chin, and their eyes met. Francesco didn't look away. "You don't have to lie."
"I'm not lying. If it's one thing I can't give him, it's a cock like yours. Mine doesn't compare."
At that, Morgan chuckled. "Don't sell yourself short, baby boy. You're normal for your age and build. But thank you. I guess that's a compliment."
"Yeah." Francesco wanted nothing else now but to go back and work on his plan again. "Yeah." He nodded repeatedly.
"Hey," Morgan called softly, "things will get better."
He wanted to believe that. But there was no one to help him, and it all depended on him alone.
They were walking through the forest, single file.
"Did you ask Morgan to do something so that I don't stay here when you all leave?" Mouse asked.
Francesco walked in front, so he didn't turn. "Did you hear us?"
"No, but I bet you weren't crying, and he wasn't hugging you because your tummy hurt. So, did you?"
"Yeah," he admitted. "But he can't do squat."
"It's all right," Mouse replied. "He's just a grunt, after all."
"Ah, well, I should have asked about his rank before, I guess."
"Before what? Before you got a dicking or I got a dicking?"
To his surprise, Mouse was laughing.
"Glad to see you in high spirits." Francesco turned to glare at Mouse. "I was really hoping... forget it."
"Kekko," Mouse hurried after him, "thank you." He kissed him quickly on the cheek.
"What was that for?"
The beautiful green eyes stared at him with infinite love in them. "For caring about me. And you're right. That daddy's cock was super awesome." He grinned and sauntered off. "You coming?" he asked when Francesco just stood there, unmoved.
He couldn't get mad at Mouse. He couldn't talk to him about hope when he knew his future was set in stone, dictated by some assholes who, without a doubt, didn't know what hunger, or despair, or loneliness were. "Yeah, I'm coming."
They both shouted in surprise when Karl jumped in front of them from behind one of the trees.
"What the fuck, moron?" Mouse snorted once they realized who it was.
"Are you on a fucking holiday or something? Where the hell have you been?"
"None of your business," Mouse said and moved by him.
Karl's eyes moved to Francesco. He froze. Could it be that the guy had watched them? Maybe even seen them getting freaky with Morgan? That would be so fucking bad.
"I can come with you to set up traps or whatever you need to do," he offered. "Mouse can go ahead and cook something delicious."
Karl looked hard at him, then at Mouse. "Fine," he said through his teeth. "Go cook something, slut," he told Mouse.
The redhead blew Karl a kiss as he walked away. When he was a bit farther, he mouthed a `thank you' at Francesco.
Mouse was barely out of sight, when Francesco grabbed Karl by his t-shirt and kissed him. He wasn't bothered by the initial lack of reaction. He wrapped his arms around Karl's body, as he pushed his tongue into his mouth. Finally, Karl grabbed his ass and began kissing back.
"The hell got into you?" Karl asked, but his voice was low and husky.
"I want you. Now."
He was going all in. He had to.
"Oh, yeah? Missing my cock in you?" Karl taunted him.
He wasn't bothered by that grin or by how hard Karl was squeezing his ass.
"Missing you," he said and angled his head to kiss the other some more.
"The slut is barely out of earshot. You sure you want me to fuck you now? What if he comes back?"
"Doesn't matter." Francesco felt his desperation growing with each word they exchanged. Was he that bad at manipulating an asshole like Karl? Any moment now, the guy would start suspecting something.
Karl grabbed his arm and pulled him behind a large tree. His eyes were intense, lit with dark fire. "Get it wet," he ordered.
Francesco was quick to pull down the zipper. Soon, his mouth was full with Karl's cock. He swirled his tongue over the head and licked all the precum. Karl was looking at him with the same expression on his face. If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought the asshole had bad things on his mind.
What if he did? He moved his mouth faster and tried to use his hands.
Karl grabbed his wrists and held them. "Do me with your mouth."
Francesco nodded, his mouth still full. It was a bit weird with his arms being held up like that, but Karl was helping him by moving his hips and slamming his cock in, down his throat.
Suddenly, the fucker pulled back. Francesco felt his saliva pouring down his chin. That was a messy blowjob, and he was breathing hard.
"What do you say? Wet enough?" Karl challenged him.
He nodded. He'd have to get ready fast. The fucker was in a funk again. He pushed down his pants and quickly prepared himself with his fingers and spit. Karl moved him to face the tree and helped him place his hands into position.
And then, he pushed inside him, hard and unforgiving. Francesco bit back a cry and his fingers dug into the bark of the tree, wishing for the sudden pain to go away already.
"You leave with him half a day, making me mad," Karl hissed as he held him close.
At least, he was given a bit of time to adjust to the fucker's thick meat.
"Do you know why you made me mad?" Karl forced his face by grabbing his jaw so that they could look at each other.
Francesco was afraid of the answer. If Karl knew he had gone to see Morgan, he was fucking doomed.
But Karl's grip on his jaw eased and turned into a caress. "It's because you make me worry, you fucking jerk," he said softly, such a big contrast from his angry words from before.
Francesco exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry, Karl."
That seemed to appease the beast even more. "If you're sorry, don't do it again. Okay?"
"Yes, Karl. Now please fuck me. I need you to..." He didn't know how to say it.
"You need me to what?" Karl began moving and pushing into him. "Give it to you like this? Like that slut can't?"
"Not only that," Francesco mumbled. He had no idea why, but Karl knew more and more how to use his cock and hit just at the right angle. He was holding on to the tree with all his strength. "I need you to own me," he breathed out. "Fuck me like I belong to you," he added in a breathless whisper.
Karl wrapped one arm around his chest. He bit Francesco's neck and licked it. "Mine," he said as his hips slammed hard against him, making him delirious with want.
"Yours," Francesco whispered. "Your slut, your cock sleeve, your cum dumpster," he said while lost in the sensation of being fucked.
He had to believe it if he wanted to get what he wanted. Maybe that was making him such a good whore.
"Mine," Karl chanted back as his moves became more punishing, harder, faster.
Francesco knew he could shoot without using hands, but he felt like his knees were ready to buckle under him as he came.
"Did you come?" Karl asked and laughed.
"Yeah," Francesco confirmed while struggling to stand.
Karl's cock was turning his ass into nothing but a hole to fuck. He only moved his feet farther apart and pushed his ass up to get it harder.
"That's a good bitch," Karl teased him and kissed him hard.
Francesco could barely feel his body, too much in sensory overload to care. Karl's tongue was moving frantically inside his mouth, while his cock went deeper, faster. As dizzy as he was, he could swear he felt as the fucker began to shoot inside him, deeper than ever.
He collapsed to the ground once it was over. He was sure his ass was pretty much a wreck after that fucking, but all he could feel were the last eddies of his release.
Karl crouched by his side. His face was flushed, and he was grinning like a mad man. "Fuck, Cesco, you sure know how to throw a party."
He only laughed. He was so tired now he could just lay there and take a nap.
Karl snapped his fingers in front of him. "Hey, stay with me. Don't tell me you want me to carry you. I'll do it, but I think I'll keep one hand in your ass while at it. So that everyone can see whose bitch you are."
That was enough incentive for him to get to his feet. Karl helped him pull up his pants and then held his face in his palms. "That was the best fuck ever, Cesco." He kissed him quickly, one last time. "Am sure glad you finally know where you belong. You were made for my cock, baby."
"Baby?" Francesco snorted and winced at the discomfort at his backside.
Karl seemed a bit disoriented. "You don't like it? How should I call you?"
Bitch sounds about right. Nah, he couldn't say that. "It's fine. Baby's fine."
"All right." Karl took him by the shoulders. "Hey, the camp is that way." He laughed as he set Francesco on the right direction. "Fucked you good, right?"
Francesco just nodded. He was exhausted. But maybe `baby' was good enough to ask Karl, at one point, for a big ass favor.
tbc
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