Fresh meat.
Fresh Meat’s wavy, jet-black hair, in stark contrast with his skin, looked like a bird’s failed attempt at a nest. Sunken cheeks curved up swelling welts that made an already pronounced jawline stick out even farther. A cleft in his chin matched the divot above his upper lip, a groove at the tip of his nose, and even the severe cut dividing his bottom lip.
Kid wondered why Jerry had taken this guy in. Most everyone was like the Brazilians—hot model types who’d been conned into coming to this rat hole by some less than scrupulous street entrepreneur. Some came because this was their way of paying off a debt to a dealer. Others, because some junkie eagerly sold them for quick cash. Regardless of how they ended up there, they were usually in pristine condition, unlike this new guy. At the same time, Kid had to acknowledge that he had been less than pristine when he'd arrived.
Despite Fresh Meat's rough appearance, Kid recognized that he was still a very attractive man. Broad shoulders and thick, curved biceps filled a white T-shirt. His tight ass looked hot in the jeans he wore.
Fresh Meat’s eyes, brown and sparkling in the fluorescence, scanned the room until they came to Kid.
Kid avoided his glare.
Fresh Meat stumbled to a tray of dumbbells, picked up two fifty-pounders, and headed to a weight bench by Kid.
Kid lay back on his bench, grabbed the barbell, and started another set.
“Look a little young to be here,” Fresh Meat whispered.
Kid gritted his teeth. Didn’t respond. Kept working on his reps.
Fresh Meat planted the dumbbells on the floor before him. He picked one up and started doing reps. The veins in his forearm pushed forward. His bicep flexed, inflating and deflating in sync with the muscles in his jaw.
“My name’s Kinzer.”
Kid’s body tensed, more from anger than the tension of the weights.
This idiot is gonna get us both in trouble.
Among Jerry's myriad of rigid rules was the “no talking” rule. The boys weren't allowed to fraternize with each another. Kid imagined this was to prevent them from conspiring to overpower Marzo or Clive or from plotting an escape. This rule wasn't something that Jerry took lightly, either. Jerry's guards would usually tase or beat for infractions, depending upon the severity of the transgression. It was easy to slight Jerry, and he wasn’t fair with his devised punishments. They were severe. Talking could result in punishments serious enough to prevent a guy from working for two months.
“How long you been in here?” Kinzer asked.
Kid lifted the barbell and set it back on the rest. Sweat rushed down his face. He panted, his bulky chest rapidly rising and falling. His erect, pink nipples shimmered in the light.
“Shut the fuck up,” he muttered through his teeth, “or you’ll get us both in trouble.”
Kinzer set his dumbbell on the floor, picked it back up with his other hand, and started a set.
Kid lay on the bench, gripping his hands against the barbell.
“Listen, I need to—”
Robb stepped between them, squinting and puffing out his already chubby cheeks. “Kid,” he fussed. “You know the rules.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Taser.
Kinzer’s sparkling brown eyes grew twice as big. “What the—”
Kid sat up. He scowled, the look in his eyes full of indignation. “What?! He was the one—”
He didn't know why he was fighting it. Something in him was just so infuriated, so pissed off. He was always so good. Always followed the rules. Surely, Robb knew that it was Kinzer’s fault.
Jerry’s other boys paused their workouts to watch the confrontation.
“It’s the rules,” Robb insisted.
Kid resigned himself. There wasn’t any way Jerry was going to let his transgression go unpunished, and better a Taser than something worse. He clenched his jaw and pushed his sweat-soaked chest out. Robb pressed the Taser between his pecs.
Zzzz.
Kid convulsed.
He fell off the bench. Robb stepped over it and knelt, continuing his assault.
“Whoa!” Kinzer said. “I’m the one who was talking to him. He didn’t do anything!”
“Kinzer!” Jerry shouted from the corner of the room. He stood over a sweat-soaked twink of a boy who had stopped mid-push-up to watch Kid and Kinzer. “Kid knows the rules. This is the way we do things around here, so shut your faggy mouth and let Robb handle it.”
Robb sent another fifty thousand volts into Kid’s chest. Kid writhed about.
Kinzer dropped his dumbbell. As it bounced off the floor, he tackled Robb.
Robb whined and slapped around as Kinzer pounded into his cushioned stomach.
“What the…fuck! Stop! It’s…the…rules!” Robb wailed.
“Marzo!” Jerry exclaimed.
Marzo stomped across the workout room, a stern look frozen on his face.
Kinzer reared back, his fist moving to strike Robb again.
Marzo put a Taser to his neck.
Zzzz.
Kinzer convulsed and twitched about, just as Kid had done moments earlier.
***
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Jerry shouted.
He sat at a termite-ravaged school desk. Kid and Kinzer sat on a cot before him.
On the concrete wall behind Jerry were two large windows. Like all of the windows in Jerry’s place, they were covered in chain-link fencing.
Kid threw Kinzer a foul look.
Fucking asshat, getting me in trouble.
“This isn’t a fucking Jean-Claude Van Damme movie!” Jerry continued. “No need to act like a fucking animal.”
“He didn’t do anything,” Kinzer said. “I didn’t even know that rule.”
“I don’t care what rules you know and don’t know,” Jerry said. “If I discipline, I expect you to obey. My rules may not always be fair, but the only way to be any kind of leader is to be consistent. If you discipline consistently, then everybody understands when and why they get punished. Got that?”
Kinzer nodded.
“I’d prefer auditory confirmation.”
“Won’t happen again.”
Kid looked Kinzer over. He doubted that was true.
A guy doesn’t end up with bruises all over him like that and in a place like this for no reason.
“As for you, Kid, you know better than to be acting up.”
“I was—”
“Shh, shh. I don't like this, but I'm gonna have to find a suitable punishment for you. I have to be honest, considering how long you’ve been with me, it’s not going to be generous. You should have known better.”
There was no point in arguing. Kid hung his head and nodded.
“And you ever cause a ruckus like that again…” Jerry’s gaze shifted to Kinzer. “…I’ll make sure you know your place. Now, get to the showers and get cleaned up.”
***
A stream of water flowed from an overhanging showerhead.
Kinzer massaged a bar of soap in his palms, building up foamy suds. Black strands of his bangs clung to unhealed wounds on his forehead. At his feet, water slapped against yellow-stained tiles, framed in brown and green grime that fanned out from the grout.
Kid stood under an adjoining showerhead. He wiped a bar of soap across the ripples in his torso and over his naturally-flexed biceps.
They were the only ones in the showers. The others had cleaned up while Jerry had been chastising them.
Fucking asshole.
Mad as he was, he couldn't keep his gaze from shifting repeatedly back to Kinzer's cock. Even flaccid, it was hanging mid-thigh. That thing must've been twelve inches. The mushroom head stretched out well beyond the shaft. When he'd first seen Kinzer undress in the shower room, he had a much better understanding of why Jerry had brought him on board. With a dick like that, he was going to be one of Jerry's busiest boys. Even more fortunate, he probably wouldn’t have to take it up the ass nearly as much.
<
br /> “You got me in a lot of fucking trouble,” Kid hissed.
“Sorry.” Kinzer brushed the suds in his hands across his chest and massaged them against his pecs.
Kid's eyes flashed back to Kinzer's dick. He couldn't help himself. He wondered how that would feel in his hole.
“Your cock’s huge.”
Kinzer smiled. “I thought we weren’t supposed to talk.”
His smile was disarming, and Kid found it difficult to maintain his anger, especially as he continued to imagine that chunk of flesh filling him.
“They know we can’t get out down here,” Kid said, “and they gotta keep an eye on the others.”
His eyes remained fixed on Kinzer's member. “But seriously. What the fuck?”
Kinzer eyed Kid’s dick. “Not so bad yourself.”
Now Kid was really having a hard time keeping his defensive front up against Kinzer. Something about him was charming, fun. Kid’s shaft widened and lengthened. Kinzer’s twitched and hardened.
Kid threw Kinzer a satisfied glare. “Like what you see?”
Kid’s dick was fully erect. He glanced back at the door and lunged at Kinzer, dropping to his knees and placing his lips around the head of his dick.
Kinzer jumped out of the showerhead’s path, dropping the bar of soap on the tile. White streams of soap slid down his torso, detouring at the top curves of his abs.
“Come on!” Kid said. “We gotta hurry.”
Kinzer’s face cringed with confusion. “But, uh—”
“Dude, you clearly want it. And I need it. Please. I’m begging you. I’ll just blow you. Please.”
“You don’t get enough sex in a place like this?”
“I don’t really consider what goes on here sex.”
Kinzer walked back into the hot water.
“This doesn't mean we're cool,” Kid said, water webbing between his eyes.
He was pissed at Kinzer for getting him in trouble, but he needed that cock inside him. Pain and pleasure were the greatest distractions from his shitty life. They pulled his thoughts away from his daily tasks and the memories that haunted his thoughts. With a hard girth like that inside him, he wouldn’t be able to think about anything other than the unbearable pain that pulsed through him. Not that he was eager to feel all forms of pain. He just wanted to feel the pain he chose to feel.
As Kinzer's cock neared Kid’s mouth, Kid’s lips slid right over Kinzer’s mushroom head and down his shaft. Water parted at the bridge of his nose, two paths arcing around his stretching lips and coming together at his chin.
Kid shoved Kinzer’s dick as far back as he could take it. Less than half of the shaft fit in his mouth.
God, he tastes so good. I bet his cum tastes even better.
Kinzer threw his head back and released a deep, satisfied groan.
Kid slid his lips back, massaging the tip with the end of his tongue. He tightened his hand around Kinzer’s girth, stroking back and forth, as he moved his lips to the same rhythm. He closed his eyes, taking in the deliciousness of Kinzer’s flesh.
Kid pulled back, giving his mouth a rest.
“You taste so fucking good,” Kid whispered. His mouth was back around Kinzer’s dick in a heartbeat. He was committed, focused.
He wanted to please Kinzer. Just as he wanted to choose when he felt pain, he wanted to choose whom he satisfied.
Kinzer’s skin tasted so good.
Kid filled his mouth with the flesh, sucking gently as he slid his free hand across Kinzer’s ass, tucking two fingers between his cheeks, then into his hole.
“Oh, fuck yeah,” Kinzer said.
Kid tried to take more of Kinzer’s vein-covered goodness, but Kinzer yanked it out of his mouth.
Kinzer grabbed Kid's shoulder, forced him to his feet, and pushed him against the wall.
Kid shoved his ass out, inviting Kinzer inside. He glanced back at the door. “Just please…be quiet. They’ll beat the shit out of us if they catch us.”
Kinzer pressed his nose against Kid’s ear, his hot breath crawling across his neck as he said, “I don’t think I’m gonna be the one who has a problem keeping quiet.”
He pressed the head of his dick against Kid’s hole. Kid’s ass, a product of excessive squats, was tight, uninviting.
Kid could tell just by the feeling that it was going to be an incredibly painful experience. He started to rethink following through, but as Kinzer’s fingers slid around his side and across his abdomen, he felt a jolt of energy rush through his pelvis like a Taser of satisfaction and arousal. He pushed his ass farther back.
“I’m gonna be slow, okay?” Kinzer said.
“No. I want you to come. We have to do this as fast as we can.” He regretted his words, but he was too scared that they wouldn’t have time to finish. And right then, all he wanted was for Kinzer to make him bleed.
Kinzer hesitated before he closed his eyes and pushed forward.
Kid gritted his teeth as he felt the inner lining in his ass tear.
Kinzer slid back. He spit in his palm and rubbed the fluid across his shaft. He attempted to enter Kid again, this time successfully forcing his way inside.
Kid thought he was about to rip in two. The pain was so intense, so unbearable. He reared his head back and opened his mouth to scream.
Kinzer slapped a hand over his lips, obscuring the blood-curdling cry Kid would have otherwise unleashed.
Tears rushed down Kid’s cheeks. Kinzer thrust his pelvis back and forth, his cock rough against Kid’s dry hole.
Kid thought his insides might explode, and yet, it left him wishing it were even more painful.
All he could think about was the pain, and that was wonderful.
He pressed his ass even closer to Kinzer’s pelvis and threw his hand back, pulling Kinzer’s face close to his ear. Kinzer breathed heavily against the back of Kid’s neck, grunting, groaning, as if taking out all his aggression and anger on Kid’s ass.
Kid kept trying to scream out, but as any sound leaked through Kinzer’s fingers, Kinzer would tighten his grip even more to block it.
Kid’s tears showered over the floor like the still-running streams of water coming from their abandoned showerheads.
“Fuck me harder,” Kid begged, his words nearly indiscernible under Kinzer’s hand. Every muscle in his well-toned body was tense, flexed. His face was red. The veins in his neck popped forward as he struggled with the pain.
Kinzer leaned back, effectively gaining leverage as he slammed into Kid’s hole, filling him, hurting him.
Kid pressed his hands against the wall, pushing as hard as he could, hoping to lessen the throbbing pain. As much as he wanted it, his body couldn’t handle it.
SLAM!
Kid recognized the sound. On the other side of the door, up a stairwell, there was a door the guards had to come through to get to the showers. It always made that same noise when it closed. Someone would be there in just moments. If Kinzer didn’t hurry up, they were going to be fucked…in a bad way.
He flipped his head to the side, slipping free of Kinzer’s hand.
“You have to come…now,” he grunted. “They’re gonna be down here in a second.”
Kinzer thrust his pelvis into Kid’s ass. The pounding quickened. Sharp slapping sounds echoed through the showers until Kinzer threw both of his arms around Kid’s chest and grunted.
Kid could feel Kinzer swell inside him. A warm stream rushed down his leg. His eyes rolled back as he basked in the pleasure and absorbed the pain.
CLICK!
Kinzer pulled out.
He swept down, retrieving the bar of soap he’d dropped on the tile. He hurried back to his shower, acting as if he was finishing up.
Kid limped to his side of the shower and collapsed onto the floor.
“You okay?” Kinzer asked.
“I’ll be fine,” he whispered, his body trembling.
The door burst open. Robb and Marzo entered.
***
Please let him be asleep, Kid thought.
Houses, inches apart, lined either side of the street. Mailboxes planted at forty-five degree angles pointed in various directions. On the side of one of the houses, a jigsaw hole in a brick wall opened into darkness. Before the wall, a line of bricks scattered across foot-tall weeds. Miss Greer sat on the porch of this dilapidated house, cats at her heels. She rocked in her chair as if she hadn't received notice to abandon the condemned property. Kid knew that she had, because he'd heard Mrs. Michaelson and Miss Lanser discussing it just a few houses back.
He walked down the street, his thumbs curled under his backpack straps.
The streetlamps flickered orange behind him, combating the blue of dusk.
Directly across from Miss Greer's house, shattered windows acted as advertising to the occasional squatter that the place was known for. Kid passed the broken-windowed home, walking up a barren yard toward a rusting trailer—white with a once gold streak across the center. It looked like an old faded flag.
Please let him be asleep, he thought again.
After school, he always snuck off to the woods and spent his time reading. He'd developed decent timing for when Daddy would pass out from his evening binge. Nothing pleased him more than seeing him fast asleep on the couch. It meant he could disappear into his room, read his books, and not have to worry about anything until the next day…when it started all over again.
He hopped up a set of peeling periwinkle-painted steps. The screen and the front door creaked open as he slipped inside.
Daddy sat on the couch, across from the TV. The familiar Jeopardy soundtrack and the scent of Budweiser and popcorn filled the room. Daddy's belly, stretching a faded blue shirt, rounded over his belt. His eyes looked shut.
Thank God, Kid thought.
He closed the door and crept through the hall toward the back of the trailer.
“Willy,” Daddy called out. “Willy-boy. Where you been?”
Kid turned around. Daddy's eyes glistened in the TV's blue light.
Kid tossed his backpack in his room and started in, hoping Daddy was too drunk to notice.
“Willy! You know I'm talking to you, little shit.”
Kid stepped back out.
Daddy undid his belt and unzipped his pants. His thick, semi-erect cock rolled under his belly.
Clipped (The Clipped Saga Book 1) Page 2
