Chapter Two

Hell Is Home

(Words & Music by: Tipton & Downing)

Hell is home to me
Might as well be
I like it here and no-one else invited me
Hell is home to me
It has to be, 'cause Jesus Christ
Nobody else invited me

Now I belong
I found my home
'Cause even though I know things won't
Get any better, they can certainly never get much worse

Say my whole life I've always been disliked
Ignored unless you're spitting insults at me
And I don't know why you felt so justified
In all the degradation that you dished on me

Oh! Now my status has changed
And you've got yourself to blame
Oh! I'll grab all the attention I crave
Now I'm running Hell and Heaven won't be the same
~~~

Wesley had been given a new uniform to wear, underwent the inspection by the doctor and now he strode to the dormitory. He held his blanket and pillow, the only possessions he’d be allowed. On the bus rider over, he’d taken in the sparse farm land, the electrical fences with barb-wire circling the tops, the two watch towers and the dingy, grey cement structure that would be his new home.
 

Now he stared at more grey walls. All he heard was the clanking of doors shutting, keys being inserted into holes and more doors banging against the steel bars.
 

The buzzer sounded.
 

The guard held open the door, motioning for Wesley and the three other boys to step inside.
 

To the left and right, stretching two stories high, rows of double-occupancy cells lined the walls. Dormitory D the guard had referred to this place as. Each cell possessed a door for privacy. But when lights-out came, they’d be locked up in their rooms for the night. Only Dormitory D had lock-up. The other dorms had no cells, just big, open rooms with bunk beds.
 

And nobody wanted to be placed in Dormitory D since this is where the most violent offenders were kept. Dorm A housed the first time offenders with just minor offenses. B contained the repeat offenders who only engaged in petty crimes. C was a bit more rough, housing those with long lists of criminal records. But as for D... only those who killed were locked up in this section.
 

Two white lines were drawn down the center of the cell block. And standing on the two lines were Wesley’s new prison mates, all hooting, whistling and hollering. Hmm, how nice of the warden to give them a welcoming committee upon arrival.
 

Wesley deftly gazed down the line of shouting lads. Two pretty, yellow-haired beauties silently watched the initiation. How the hell did they end up in Dorm D?
 

Then his eyes moved to the sassy blond with silken hair cascading down slim shoulders, spilling all the way to a lean waist while long bangs brushed against high cheekbones. The hue was a blending of gold, honey, platinum and ash blond. Full, kissable lips were pursed in a cocky smile that flashed white, straight teeth. The sinewy body exuded a cat-like grace that was so teasingly sensual - slim arms, long legs, boyish hips, tight tummy and an exposed chest since the young beauty had the orange uniform unzipped to his naval.
 

“Gonna get a nice fucking, big guy,” the sassy blond purred in a sultry voice. He gave a throaty laugh, looping his arm through a guy who looked to be about sixteen.
 

Deep muscles filled out The Stud’s chest. His head was clean shaven, black eyes taking in each new prisoner with deft precision.
 

Wesley ignored The Stud and concentrated on the sassy slut.
 

The blond bitch ran his delicate, long fingers along his hip and he pursed his full lips. “You want me to kiss it and make it all better, big guy?” the sassy blond cooed.
 

His taunt brought laughter from the other prisoners.
 

Wesley ignored being the butt of the blond minx's mocking. When he finished with this slut, the fair-haired bitch would be singing a new song. Never did he encounter such a mouth on a delicate lad before. Yet, the sassy blond oozed sexual confidence, was aware of the effect that smoldering beauty had on the male gender.
 

Yep, the bitch was queen bee of Cell Block D. The Stud standing next to the minx ran the show within these walls, no doubt. And the mouthy bitch basked in the glory since his dude packed the muscle, reputation and fists that made him the highest on the food chain.
 

Wesley stared hard. Weakness. Yeah, he just needed to see that smidgen of weakness seeping so inconspicuously from The Stud. The sassy blond no doubt called the shots. He bet this bitch used that sensual body, teasing words and hot hole as a weapon. The minx had probably been fucking men since he knew what his dick was.
 

The guard pointed to the cell and Wesley stepped inside. He set his blanket and pillow on the top bunk. He turned when he heard the footsteps that stopped.
 

“Don’t worry, big guy,” the sassy blond purred. “You’ll be okay. Just remember to use soap when you’re getting fucked so it don’t hurt.” He gave a chuckle and turned on his heel.
 

“Me not the one who need soap,” Wesley growled. Usually he’d ignore this type of confrontation since he plain out didn’t give a fuck. But he rather liked the sassy blond’s attention.
 

The beautiful lad pivoted, facing Wesley once again, as he ran his wet, silken tongue along his full, lower lip. Green eyes slanted at the tips flashed with a smoldering taunt. “Trust me, big guy. You’re gonna need some soap. The boys will break you in.” He gave a teasing smile. “I think I’m gonna rather enjoy watching you get fucked. I might even jerk off if you’re body is as hot as you look.”
 

Again, he turned on his heel to leave.
 

Wesley eyed the taut, rounded buttocks that even a dingy, orange uniform couldn't hide. He'd love a piece of that ass. “You fuck?”
 

The sassy blond pivoted and faced Wesley again, nonchalantly resting his hand on the door. “I do anything, big guy. Just name your poison.”

Wesley held the stare. He liked the bold words coming from the minx's mouth. Oh yeah, easily he could see this bitch engaging in any kind of sexual act, from sodomy to sado-masochism, bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, water sports, orgies, exhibitionism, and even ordering the rape of a helpless boy to be sexually assaulted till the death while the hussy sat back and watched with amusement... something in the minx's sensual swagger told him this to be true.
 

“Iason!” came the deep, low growl.
 

The lad turned his head, glancing down the line of cells. “Oh, give me a minute for fuck sakes. I ain’t humping the new bugger.” Then he laughed. “Idiot. Thinks he can order me around. He can sit in the damn cell and wait till I’m good and ready to drop my pants.”
 

Wesley’s eyes narrowed. Yep, that wee bit of information was all he needed. The bitch ran the show, called all the shots since The Stud was too besotted. And who wouldn’t be? This blond whore knew how to work that sinewy, sensual body. Never did he meet such a beautiful lad who exuded such a teasing, sultry aura. The boy was walking sex.
 

“Later, big guy,” Iason purred as he turned and sauntered away.
 

Wesley stepped out of his cell, watching the teasing strut: sensual thighs moving one in front of the other while the tight buttocks sassily swayed with each teasing step the blond bitch took.
 

Iason looked over his shoulder and he gave a mocking laugh. Then he continued to the cell he shared with The Stud.
 

Wesley arched his brow. Give it a week and he’d be the new stud of Dorm D and the sassy slut would be his bitch.

*****

Every sense he possessed was alert. His ears intently listened. His nose sniffed the air. His eyes darted back and forth. Yet, nobody could tell since he exuded a relaxed posture. The cool water trickled down his chest. He lathered up his skin with the lye soap, running the bar along his arms, yet he waited. Something told him it would happen this morning, during his very first shower. He noted one by one each boy walked away from a shower head. One still hadn't finished rinsing his hair and the lad was stuck with shampoo clinging to his short locks.

Wesley took a deep breath. Yet, his eyes remained on the tiled walls, gazing at the black grout.

Silence.

So quiet, yet he knew if he turned around, he'd see them. He deeply inhaled, picking up each their scents. Three, one was The Stud, flanked by two comrades. The delicate scent pierced his nostrils, the essence so teasing, sexually alluring. The blond bitch was also present.

He heard a match strike the sulfur. Burning tobacco drifted in his direction and he could hear someone inhaling the nicotine and then slowly expelling the smoke through soft lips. The gesture, it had to be the sassy blond. Every task the haughty minx performed was so languorous, teasingly slow, meant to build anticipation in one's loins.

"Turn around," came the order.

Such a low tenor was this voice. Wesley knew it was one of the cronies who spoke. This wasn't a lad but a sixteen-year-old whose body emerged from a cocoon, struggling to move from boyhood to manhood. He ignored the order and continued to stare at the wall.

Shoes connected against the cement floor. The sassy blond was moving. Only the minx possessed such a languid strut. From his peripheral vision, he could see the sexy blond heading toward the small step ladder. One long leg was on display, shoe planted on the first wrung. Now came the delicate, long arms and graceful fingers gripping the bars. He watched the minx lift that slim body and sit the lush, smooth ass on the top step. The cigarette dangled from Iason's full lips, cat-eyes filled with excitement. Elbows were planted on the knees.

Wesley almost growled. Spectator. No doubt the minx was ready to sit back and watch another initiation as if it was a sporting event, ready to cheer and be entertained.

 "Hi, big guy," Iason said in a mocking voice. "Nice ass."

Wesley didn't acknowledge the taunt. He refused to be distracted by the cunning blond. His attention was focused on The Stud and the two cronies.

Fingers snapping. Order. The Stud had given the order to begin.

Wesley whipped around, gazing at the two comrades: a redhead and brunette. They were built just like The Stud, no doubt spent all their free time pumping iron during the recreation hour. The redhead held a piece of pipe. The brunette was armed with a handle from a broken baseball bat, no doubt smuggled in from a game during outside time.

 Neither made a movement.

"Well, what the fuck are you waiting for?" Iason hissed in disgust. "Fuck the bitch! Now!"

The redhead and brunette both rushed him. Wesley felt the pipe hitting his back as he landed a punch on the brunette. Then a swift kick to his gut made him angrier. The rage was great. There was no chance in hell he was letting these two pussies fuck his ass!

He wrenched the handle free from the brunette and he lifted the hard wood, sending the weapon across the boy's back. The brunette grunted and fell to the floor. Wesley also hit the wet cement when the redhead struck him with a forceful blow with the pipe. He rolled over, gazing at the redhead. Both lunged at each other.

He blocked the blows firing at his gut and face as he retaliated with deep, powerful hits of his own. Then he kicked out when he felt the brunette get off the floor. He sent that pussy back down. With both hands locked together, he sent his fists crashing into the redhead's face. The boy fell to the floor, moaning in pain since his nose was broken.

Now Wesley turned back to the brunette. Over and over he plunged the tip of the wooden handle into the kid's gut. Then he attacked the redhead once again, not leaving the boy any time to gather his bearings. He grabbed the pipe and slammed the steel metal over the redhead's neck.

Once again he heard fingers snapping. He grunted and glanced at The Stud. A slow, languid clap filled the shower room, the sound coming from the step ladder.

The Stud cocked his brow. Again he snapped his fingers and Iason stepped down from the ladder, striding straight to his dude.

"I guess we'll let you live," The Stud coolly stated. He gathered the blond minx next to him, motioning with his eyes to leave.

Iason glanced at Wesley. He smiled, gazing at the erect penis standing so stiff and proud. "Nice dick, big guy. Very nice dick. I guess you'll get to use it after all. Fuck 'em both. They deserve it after they let you beat their asses." He turned on his heel, snickering as he left the shower room.

The Stud followed.

Wesley took a deep breath, the rush still pounding through his body. He glanced at the redhead and brunette who continued to groan in pain on the floor. He'd beat them all over again since he had no desire to fuck these two idiots. The one he wanted to violate with his stiff erection had already left.

*****

Wesley sat on the bench, digging into his breakfast. He glanced under his lashes where Iason sat. He heard through the prison grapevine the sassy blond always showered alone with The Stud and he knew what went down when those two were together with water, lots of soap and privacy. Bitch! The blond bitch left him with a hard-on after he beat those two idiots. He needed release.

He thought about the beating he administered to those two pussies. He doubted the sassy blond would have whined, cried, begged or pleaded. Delicate, slim and maybe standing five-four, the pretty lad had that familiar hardness in those evergreen eyes. Iason had already killed. Most likely murdered a job and took the perverted man’s money. Deceitful, cunning and a helluva smooth talker, the minx was as street hardened as him. The blond bitch wouldn’t show anyone mercy. The slut no doubt laughed while murdering a job in cold blood.
 

Actually, this sexual slut probably killed the jobs while they were fucking that hot hole. Easily, he could see Iason bent over, legs spread, giving fake groans and moans that would easily arouse a man, and then reaching for a knife, plunging the blade into the job while giving a wicked giggle. The bitch would pull up his pants, scavenge whatever he could off the job and spit on the lifeless body as he strode away, giving the long, thick, silken hair a shake.
 

Wesley’s eyes narrowed. Yeah, that’s the sort of bitch he wanted laying under him. Never would he have to take care of the slut since Iason was perfectly capable of looking after himself. The minx would viciously kill beside him and he knew the slut hungered for the release just like he did after taking life.

Iason sensed the stare and he glanced up from his meal, shaking back his thick strands of hair, smirking. Then he looked back to The Stud.
 

Wesley watched the bitch feed the big man. The Stud was surrounded by his cronies, all about sixteen or seventeen and powerfully built. He noted how the one dude spent more time watching Iason. Hah, even The Stud’s flunkies wanted a piece of that sassy blond’s ass. He glanced at the table to the right. A bevy of the most delicate, pretty, soft boys were all seated. He was told just this morning those eight lads belonged to The Stud’s comrades.
 

Iason didn’t sit with the other slave boys. Nope, he was too good to be perceived as a mount. His place was beside The Stud.
 

The bell rang, indicating for everyone to hurry up and finish eating. Then they’d have to go through inspection before being allowed outside. Then, inspection again.
 

Wesley frowned. He realized he loathed these bars. He needed something to pass the time. And only the blond slut would prove to be the perfect distraction.

*****

Freedom.  It wasn't much, but just being outside was enough. Wesley sat on a cement block, watching the other boys engage themselves in a game of basketball. To the left, The Stud and his cronies hogged the Universal Gym, all showing off their muscles, doing their best to impress their bitches.

Now he gazed to where Iason sat. The minx was puffing on a cigarette as usual. The evergreen eyes looked rather bored, staring off into the distance at the barb-wire fences. He wondered if the blond bitch wanted the hell out of here as well. Amusement. He knew the minx only amused himself with The Stud and the other boys to pass the time. The sassy blond hungered for freedom the way he did.

He cocked his brow when he watched the delicate fingers grasp the clasp and slowly the zipper to the orange coverall began lowering. Yeah, get some sun and show off the silken skin and lean muscles. Hell, lower it all the way and expose that cock as well. The long legs were crossed at the ankles, sinewy body slightly leaning back. The rays of the sun caught the silken strands of the blond hair, giving that thick mane a golden cast.

Iason must have must sensed the stare because the minx slowly craned his long, delicate neck.

Their eyes locked.

Wesley grunted when the slut pursed those full, soft lips and blew him a kiss.

Hmm, what a mouth. He wanted to slide his dick between those tender lips and fuck that wet, hot mouth.

Toy. Yeah, the blond brat was bored and looking for a new toy to play with. And he'd let the minx pass the time with his dick, gladly letting the slut suck his cock. But like hell he'd be the marionette the slut wanted to pull the strings on. Oh yeah, they'd play but he'd set the rules, not Iason.

Wesley's dark eyes continued to burn into the soft flesh hidden by that stupid orange coverall. Iason smiled and he could feel the hunger building deep in his soul when he watched the delicate hand run along the slim thigh, resting on the flaccid shaft. His own manhood began to swell. Now the minx moved those long fingers to where the zipper rested. His eyes widened when the blond bitch slowly delved those fingers into the coverall. Oh yeah, fondle your own dick. Just play with that cock.

Just then The Stud left the universal gym. His eyes blazed with hate and jealousy when he realized what his lover was up to. The Stud glared at Wesley. "You," he growled. "Get your fucking eyes off my bitch!"

Wesley ignored the order. As if he'd listen to that pussy. Then his eyes narrowed when The Stud raised his hand and backhanded Iason across the face. He didn't know why, but he had to fight a war with himself since he was ready to rise off the cement block and unleash an attack on that pussy leader.

Iason didn't let him down, though. The minx glared at The Stud, wound up his pretty fist and drove his soft knuckle into The Stud's gut.

"You fucking bitch!" The Stud hollered, unfazed by that weak hit but livid since his lover was daring to humiliate him in front of his cronies.

"Aw, shut up," Iason snorted. "If I wanna jerk my cock for that hunk over there, I damn well will." He then rose off the bench, strutting away, leaving The Stud open-mouthed as he sauntered to the electrical fence.

"Get back here! Right now!" The Stud roared.

Iason didn't reply. He just gazed out into the open, lighting another cigarette.

Wesley was impressed. Ooh, what a bitch.

*****

Wesley left the laundry room, having just finished folding bed sheets and towels for two hours. His eyes gleamed with excitement when he watched Iason vacate the t.v. room. Damn, he loathed that orange color on the blond minx. Such a stunner should be wrapped in tight leather to show off the sinewy body, rounded, high buttocks and long legs.
 

He gave a low grunt.
 

Iason did his familiar slow pivot. “Hey, big guy. You gave quite the performance in the shower room this morning,” he teased in his sassy voice. Then he began languidly strutting in his previous direction.
 

“You not with your man?” Wesley gruffly asked.
 

“My man?” Iason snorted. He then dug into the breast-pocket of the dingy, orange coveralls and unearthed his cigarettes. “I don’t belong to anyone.” He struck a match and puffed on the filter, bringing the tobacco to life. Slowly, he inhaled the nicotine and then expelled the smoke between his kissable lips.
 

“He too weak to tame you,” Wesley pointed out.
 

“Sugar, there ain’t a man on this earth capable of taming me. I, for one, don’t wanna be tamed,” Iason smoothly informed him. “Now please excuse me. I’m gonna be late.”
 

Wesley arched his brown in amusement. “Gonna let your big man fuck you?”
 

“He’s watching t.v.,” Iason coolly replied. “I’m on my way to the shower room. Roger’s gonna fuck his bitch boy and I wanna watch.”
 

“You like watching?”
 

Iason smiled. He took another puff on the cigarette. “Yeah, sure do. I love watching him rape his bitch. “Later, big guy.” He turned on his heel and continued down the hall.
 

“Why watch when you can fuck?” Wesley called out.
 

Iason again pivoted on his heel. “Ya horny, big guy? You want me to get you a bitch?”
 

“No. I fuck you.” Wesley folded his arms and rested against the wall, his eyes traveling up and down the slim, lean body.
 

“Do I look like I give out free fucks?” Iason scoffed. He shook back his hair. “Sorry, big guy. You’re not worthy of even a mercy fuck. If you’re horny, I’ll get you a bitch.”
 

His evergreen eyes widened when he saw the hunger-filled gleam in Wesley's dark gems. Before he could back away, he was scooped into the big guy’s strong arms and lifted against the hard chest. "Okay, sweetie,” he smoothly stated. “Enough play time. You’re gonna get yourself iced if you touch me. Now be a good boy and put me down.”
 

Wesley shook his head. The heat was intense in his loins since his hands gripped those sassy, tight buttocks. Hungrily, he squeezed each cheek. He gazed at the exposed chest, the zipper resting against the slut's navel. Just a few smidgens lower and he’d see the pretty cock and round testicles.
 

Iason looked annoyed, yet he didn’t protest. He had a good hunch the big guy never asked, just took whatever he wanted, whether it was a car, a gun, money and yeah, even a pretty lad to fuck. Hmm, this was most interesting. Maybe he was gazing at the answer he needed since he wanted to rid himself of the annoying Stud?

“Okay,” he flatly said. “Have it your way. Fuck me and let’s get this over with. But just remember, I warned you. I bet my dude can kick your ass.” Now he wanted to giggle since the goad had worked.
 

Wesley's eyes narrowed. "Not scared of anyone," he growled.

He moved them deep into an alcove. All he wanted to do was taste the tight ass with his dick. After that show the minx put on during outside time, his cock had been erect all day. Yeah, he needed to feed the hunger, feed his lust with Iason's hot ass.

He set the minx down and his eyes raked over the sinewy body. His hand rested on the zipper and he gave a yank, revealing the soft penis. “Why not hard?”
 

“Because you bore the fuck outta me. You're not man enough to get me hot and horny,” Iason taunted. He lowered the garment and the uniform dropped around his ankles. Then he turned, exposing his back as he parted his thighs and thrust his smooth ass out. “Fuck it, already.”
 

Wesley eyed the taut buttocks. Mmm, since the blond bitch had that lush neck craned, he gazed at the long hair dusting so teasingly along the slim waist. He lightly touched the silken skin. Then he parted the cheeks and gazed at the tight hole. He dropped to his knees, letting his tongue search out the teasing portal. His nose was pressed into the crack, sniffing the blond beauty’s scent. Hmm, he could smell the aftermath of uncut semen. The Stud had fucked this blond bitch earlier.
 

“Shower room,” he ordered. “I not fuck what’s been used.”
 

Iason rolled his eyes and then he squealed when Wesley lifted him into those strong arms.
 

Wesley carted them down the hall, straight to the shower room. Cries, pleas and begging filled the dressing room. No doubt Roger was having his way with a bitch. He steered them under a shower head and removed his uniform, tossing the garment aside.

Iason kicked the dingy, orange clothing from around his ankles.
 

On came the water. The warm spray washed over them.
 

Wesley grabbed the soap and he ran the bar between Iason's tight cheeks, savoring the feel of the slippery substance on smooth, silken skin. The water beaded down the minx's. The dark lashes spiked from the moisture and the flaxen hair formed into thick, wet waves. Ah, so alluring this boy looked, so wet, ripe and ready to be fucked.
 

The footsteps could be heard, runners squeaking against the damp floor.
 

“Iason!” came the growl.
 

“I’m in here,” Iason called back as he cast Wesley a mocking smile. “Your timing sucks as usual. I was just gonna let the big guy rape me.”
 

Wesley quickly whipped around when he saw the flash of the sharpened, silver spoon. His strong arm came down on the hand gripping the cutlery.
 

“Fucker!” The Stud's gaze was filled with murder. “Roger!” he hollered, calling for one of his cronies.
 

Roger poked his head out from the dressing room.

Wesley grunted when he realized he misjudged Roger's age, realizing this was the dude who eyed Iason earlier at the breakfast table. Close up, the dude possessed the smooth face of a boy. Shit, Roger was probably the same age as him.
 

“Oh, let them fight it out,” Iason announced in a bored voice as he leaned against the wet wall, running his fingers through his hair as he pushed the damp strands off his face. “I know you wanna fuck me, Roger. So c'mere and fuck me. These two idiots are gonna slug it out over who gets to fuck my ass and it would be such a hoot to watch them fight while you're fucking what they both want." He threw back his head and burst into mocking laughter.
 

Wesley snarled. “You,” he said, pointing at Roger. “You wanna live, you not fuck him!” Then he turned back to The Stud.
 

“C'mon, Roger. Fuck me, baby. I want you to give it to me, sexy,” Iason teased.
 

Roger hesitated as he leered at the blond slut's naked, wet flesh, his eyes hungrily eating up the bitch’s erect penis. Oh God, never did such temptation overpower him before. Then he glanced to Wesley. Goddammit! Fuck! He couldn't pass up this opportunity to ice The Stud. That bastard had set the goons on him when he first arrived at the penitentiary and he'd been looking for such an opportunity to finally pay The Stud back since he'd been raped in the shower, killing one of the cronies which cost him a month in the hole.
 

So Roger joined Wesley and they rushed The Stud together. Easily, they overpowered the bigger guy who no doubt outweighed them by thirty pounds. Those man-like muscles were no match for a duel attack.
 

Iason stepped away from the spray of water and watched the two twelve-year-old’s take down the sixteen-year-old. He cocked his brow and giggled. All along he knew Roger would turn on The Stud. So he snapped his fingers. The pretty boy poked his head out from the dressing room. A bruise covered his soft cheek and his eye was slightly blackened.
 

“Turn around,” Iason ordered in a haughty voice. “I wanna fuck you while I watch them kill my man.”
 

The boy’s eyes widened in shock. “But, but, he’s your dude.”
 

“Do I look like I care?” Iason dryly retorted.
 

The boy did as requested, pressing his delicate hands against the wall as he spread his legs. Iason nestled himself closer to the young lad. He soaped up his hardened shaft and then smoothly entered the waiting tight hole. He craned his slim neck so he could watch his lover’s brutal murder. Oh yes, just fuck and kill. Nothing excited him more.
 

Then he threw back his head and burst into a fit of laughter when he realized Wesley looked pissed. So he kissed the boy’s back, grinding his ass back and forth in a circular motion as he pumped his penis into the tiny portal.
 

“Oh yes,” he groaned. “You feel so good, sweetie.”
 

Wesley could feel the lust building in him as he choked The Stud with his bare hands while watching Iason gyrate that hot ass and caress the soft flesh of the boy. He watched the slim penis pump in and out of those spread cheeks.
 

Now Roger turned, also watching.
 

Wesley slammed the sharpened spoon deep into The Stud’s neck. Over and over he kept sending the sharp blade into the man’s throat while blood flowed along the floor, swirling in a circular motion with the water, cascading down the drain.
 

Iason’s eyes widened and he smiled. “Yes, kill him! Kill the fucker!”
 

Wesley grinned. What a bitch. Not an ounce of loyalty. Iason only looked after himself and the slut did a damn good job of it. His penis throbbed with a deep ache as he watched the pretty cock continue to glide in and out of the boy’s hole. Yet, his eyes were locked on Iason’s tight ass. Oh yeah, he loved watching those buttocks flex and pump. Hmm, and he rather liked the sassy groans and hushed moans coming from those soft lips.

Devil child. Yeah, Iason was the spawn of Lucifer. The minx had beauty, sensuality, sexual magnetism, and a body that exuded all those powerful lusty traits - so cat-like. Hmm, and those throaty moans sounded just like a purr.
 

“Finish him off,” Wesley growled.
 

Roger nodded.

Wesley got off his knees and strode straight to Iason. “Bitch, fuck off,” he snarled to the pretty boy.
 

The lad quickly moved away, taking his place beside Roger.
 

Wesley arched his brow, staring at the hardened, slim penis. “Pretty cock,” he grunted.
 

“You gonna finish me, big guy,” Iason teased in a soft, sassy whisper. “C’mon, big guy. Fuck me.”
 

Wesley laced his strong arms around the sassy blond's slim hips. He lifted the devil child off the floor so Iason had no choice but to wrap those silken thighs around the big guy’s waist. While Roger gave one final grunt, sending the spoon into The Stud’s throat, Wesley carted the blond bitch off to the dressing room. He shoved the seductive minx against the wall.
 

Iason smiled when he felt the light slap against his buttocks. So he gave his ass a shake, brushing his hole against the erect penis.
 

“Yeah,” Wesley urged. "Slide on." He shoved his finger up inside the tight portal and gasped. God, he could barely get in. Damn, this devil child was... “You fuck The Stud?” he asked in astonishment.
 

“Begged like a bitch each time,” Iason moaned. “Fucked ‘em all. Jobs, boyfriends, you name it.”
 

“But I smelled seed on you,” Wesley spat out.
 

“Why do you think Roger was looking so horny earlier?” Iason mocked. “Who do you think I let jerk off over my ass and cum between my crack?” He threw back his head and burst into a fit of laughter.
 

Wesley's dark gems narrowed in disgust. “You too free with your favors.”
 

“Honey, I wanted some cigs and good ole Roger is the cig man. So you betcha I let him jerk off over my ass so I can smoke,” Iason said with a smirk. “It’s just a fucking ass for cripe sake. What the fuck do I gotta be so damn virginal about? Do you really think I believe Prince Charming is gonna come in here and sweep me off my fucking feet?”

Wesley snorted. It was about time someone put this mouthy bitch in a proper place. He raised his arm and backhanded Iason across the face. Then his eyes widened in disbelief when the minx wound up that fist and punched him right back.
 

“You...” Wesley was speechless for once. How dare this bitch show him such disrespect? How dare this slut treat him like that cowardly stud he just murdered? He could feel his hair standing on end. The rage was burning through his soul.
 

“Do you really think I’m just gonna take your shit and let you hit me, fucker?” Iason hissed through narrowed, green eyes. “I’ll kill you, big guy. Don’t ever second guess me.”
 

“Let’s see how tough you are,” Wesley snarled.
 

“Try me, motherfucker,” Iason coolly replied.
 

Wesley raised his hand but the prison guards rushing into the shower and change room stopped him from finishing what he wanted to start. All he felt was the billy clubs as he was beaten to the floor.

Next Page - Chapter Three