Prison Island
33.
Francesco kept his eyes closed. As much as he had promised to himself that he would endure anything Karl would throw at him, getting fucked like that, with everyone else watching, was making him feel acutely aware of how things looked like. A part of him enjoyed it, in a twisted, fucked up, way. He felt his cock slapping against his abdomen as Karl was riding him hard. No one was talking, and just their grunts and moans could be heard.
But he knew that everyone else was watching, drawn to that scene in front of their eyes like a fucking car crash. And it wasn't yet the worst. Evening was falling, and Mouse wasn't yet back. What if he didn't return? Francesco curled his fingers, gathering soot and dust under his fingernails. They were by the fire, and no one, absolutely no one was talking.
But they were watching. How did he look, forced on all fours, that belt still around his neck, Karl holding it by its end, riding him?
"Why are you all staring like this?" Karl asked in a gruff voice. "When Cesco was fucking Mouse for all of you to see, you only cared about jerking off to them."
How the hell could Karl talk while still pounding into him like that? The fucker jerked the belt and made him arch his back in an effort to avoid the discomfort caused by that move.
"Because it wasn't wrong, Karl," Ollie replied. He seemed to be the guy in charge of talking for everyone else. "What you're doing now, it's fucked up."
"Cesco's loving it. Right, Cesco?"
His knees were scraped and hurting, but just as always with Karl, it still felt good. His cock was just a proof of how fucked up he was. "Yes," he croaked an answer.
Ollie made a disgusted sound. "Karl, how the hell should I tell you this? You're not making Francesco love you back this way."
"I don't care," Karl spat. "All I care is to fuck him until I'm done."
"That looks like it's taking you a long time. C'mon, guys, let's hit the hay. We're not indulging this fucker in his sick fantasies."
Francesco tensed. What if Karl wanted them to watch? He could control himself and bend so that he could please the asshole, but he couldn't do anything about the others.
"Fuck off, then," Karl said with a grunt as he bottomed out in Francesco's ass again. "No one cares what you think."
He heard shuffling, and soon everyone was gone. Karl wrapped his arms around him and pulled him upward, while still fucking him. The change of angle surprised him and his cock began spurting. Karl laughed and grabbed his dick after he let go of the last drop of cum in his balls, making him shudder at the extra sensation. "They don't know shit about us, Cesco," he cooed in his ear.
Francesco let out a small sob as Karl's rubbing on his dick was getting more and more unbearable.
"Get the fuck away from him."
His eyes snapped open at the sound of that voice. He gasped as he saw Mouse who was holding a sharp spear, which he might have improvised only that day, and pointing it toward them.
Karl laughed. "What are you going to do? Kill me? Like you killed that dude? Then no one leaves the island."
Mouse shook his head. "No. But I can hurt you enough so that you let him go."
"Mouse, please, no," Francesco pleaded.
The redhead didn't spare him a glance, his eyes trained on Karl alone.
Karl pushed him away and got to his feet. Then he grabbed him and turned him with his ass toward Mouse. With satisfaction, he pulled Francesco's ass cheeks apart. "I got about four loads in him today. And each time, each freaking time, he came. Do you think he cares about you, huh? Why the fuck does he come when I fuck him if he's so into you?"
"I love him," Mouse said in a strained voice. "You're just using him. How about you let go of him now? Or do you want to use him as a human shield?"
"No shit." Karl dropped Francesco and pushed him away.