Mercer snarled and shut his eyes, letting himself relax and be fucked. One more man wouldn't make a difference. He was so goddamn tired. The shiv was still gripped tightly in his fingers, but his eyelids shut. He tried to stay awake but the slower, deeper movements just served to rock him to sleep. He growled a final time and fell asleep on the plank, dead tired after such a long, hard breeding session.
When Mercer next awoke his predicament was not much better. The shiv had been taken from him and he would find himself on the floor of some sort of office. His hands and feet would be frozen cold from the stone floor, his rear still naked and fresh bruises splattering his skin.
Two prison guards with uniform and trunchen stood abreast of Mercer. A steaming hot breakfast reeked of edibility on the table, all for Mercer to consume... for a price. The guards wanted a piece of Mercer. More than that- they deserved part of him for now. Already punters were putting money towards them as to who would have the thief next.
Curtis chewed a plastic straw, "Do you think the thief has picked up any STIs yet?" He sneered.
Misha laughed at the joke, beginning to sort out his testing kit. Ulrich pulled a face, "I don't want to catch anything from him- I swear if he gets lice I'll dip his entire frame in terpentine."
"He ain't got no hair man, he's not gonna carry anything." Maximillian purred from his bed, Davi filing down his toe nails.
"Get up." The guard snarled at Mercer, nudging him with his boot. "If you want breakfast you'll be sucking down my offering first." He chuckled. "Bite and I'll make sure no food will pass your lipless gash for a face ever again. Suck me. Suck me as much as you want breakfast." He purred.
Mercer struggled up. "Let me the fuck out. Let me out!" he screamed. "I've been fucking raped by at least forty fucking men, I don't want this anymore!" he covered his face with his hands and hyperventilated his frustration, barely able to stand and cum running down his legs. He knew he'd break if he had to do this every day.
"I think that's quite enough." A stern voice ordered behind the two guards. "You've had your fun. Take the prisoner back to the cells. I can smell him from here; he's had enough men. You can get him to suck you off later, if he's going to be the new prison bitch he'd better get used to his lot in life before you push it too far."
The warden wasn't a cruel man, he understood what went on in the prison, and he knew to ignore most of it. But what he couldn't stand was a prisoner sniveling in the room next to his office. He ran a hand down his face and looked at the guards expectantly.
The guards couldn't disobey, but they wanted their share before the inmates got him- who knew what sort of a state they'd next get him in.
"Sir he's faking it. Those are crocodile tears to get himself free. He's a liar and a sneak- here- read his report. He knows all the tricks in the book. That smell? He did it to himself, sir." The guards explained, possessive over their fun with the new inmate.
They wondered why their warden even cared. "If you want peace we'll go somewhere else." The other guard grumbled, but decided doing so would leave Mercer's dinner on the table. "There now. Stand up and show the warden how fit you are." The guard commanded Mercer, "Get up! Get up you slag!" He barked.
"The smell." The warden cocked an eyebrow. "If he smelled any more like semen he'd have to have bathed in a vat of it. He's not faking it. Trust me. In fact I'd say he needs a fucking bath before he offends my nose any more than he already has." he added sharply. "If you two think he's fit to do anything but sleep off the cum enema he's been served then you both need to have your eyes checked." he sighed and looked at Mercer, who was standing, but just barely.
"Like I said, If he's going to be the bitch around here...you'll have plenty of time to use him later." the warden grumbled.
"Not from the things I've been hearing." The first guard protested, "By the time the inmates are done with him he'll be so ravaged it'd be like fucking a sponge, no substance to it at all." The guard dropped his gaze, grumbling.
"Guess we could try to preserve it, but what's the point." The second sighed. "He's an inmate. It's his job to smell. People like this? They come from stinking backgrounds. I dare say this whelp even HAD a home. No decentsy about any one of them, they're all rotten to the core. It's that which you can smell, not anything washable."
They dragged Mercer arm in arm off to the communal shower and dumped him in a stall. One of the guards turned on the tap, not giving a damn it if was hot or cold. The other fetched a sponge and some soap, duming then near enough to Mercer.
They watched him, talking to each other under their breaths. They plotted when they'd be able to fuck him, if they could pull him away from the crowds who wanted him so badly. The amount of money there was in his fresh body. How unfair the warden was being.
"He's just jealous. Want's the boy hismelf." The other guard grumbled to an unhappy nod response.
Mercer yelped at the hot water and reached up quickly to quell the raging, steaming water. It did help boil the scent of all the men who had taken him off of his body, however, so he kept it reasonably hot. He stood up shakily and scrubbed himself, leaning his forehead against the wall and keeping his back to the guards. "Just...give me some fucking clothes so this never happens again." he growled under his breath. "I can hear you muttering back there, and I promise I'll wring both of your necks if you try anything." he looked back at them, rubbing soap over his bruised and battered form. Maybe Curtis' offer hadn't been so bad..
"Don't kid youself." The guards purred, "You'll only use the clothes to steal with. You don't deserve any. You're dangerous." They didn't care what happened to Mercer, they had a high amount of money waiting for them if they handed him over to the right people. "You'd better learn to walk on all fours and assume the position." The first guard chuckled, glad to be away from the warden where they could bully Mercer themselves, it was still a shame they weren't strictly allowed to take him. They'd just have to wait for the men to work their way through him first.
Though Mercer's body was gaining him favours with several gangs who had interests in owning him out right. A few fights broke out over his skin, people wanting him for sex. Few knew his real crimes, few cared. Every man fancied himself the biggest and best man there, so Mercer's new arrival was nothing to worry about.
Mercer had hoped for at least a little pity from the guards...hell he hadn't even sensed it in the warden...but now he knew Curtis' family was probably the safest route. He was a damned fool for taking his chances, but he was a born gambler. This time he might have gambled a bit much with his life. He looked back at the guards again. "So I take it you're going to sell me." he said coldly. He had a feeling that was what was going to happen. The incident in the cafeteria had just been them testing the merchandise so to say.
"Thats right." The second guard purred. They had seen so many men come through the gates, some were fighters and some were just dogs. They pegged the small and slim fellow for a dog and hence paid him as much credit. Of course some of the brutes went down too, but more often than not they climbed the ladder of rank.
They didn't care that Mercer knew either, it was no secret. "Just dry off and try to sleep. We could do with you being a bit more lively. Make the men work for it." The guard laughed, enjoying the idea of watching. But anyway, they had to hand over working goods to the gang lord.
They waited for Mercer to finish up before taking him to a cell. It was there he had a bunk and blanket to sleep under and regain some strength. By morning he was given his first meal there- porridge- before they combed him and hid his hips in little more than a seethough medical cloth.
They then led him to the man who had bought his ass and money exchanged hands like a bank.
Mercer enjoyed being clean, and he felt himself tightening back up after such a thorough ravaging. He laid in bed and let himself relax, sighing happily. He was able to sleep for the first time since he'd arrived, and his brain sorely needed the recharge. He held the blanket close, cold after the hot shower. Next time he'd take a cold one. Better to warm up later than cool off here in a cold cell. He sighed, shivering slightly.
In the morning he wolfed down the meal but resisted the harsh combing. His fight was back, and now he was determined to put his light feet to good use before his arse was torn up too much to help.
He glared at the guaze around his hips. Enough to cover him, but one could certainly eye his goods like this. It even accentuated his ass. Who knew....He supposed he finally knew why the wierd doctors in New York had fetishes like this. He kept the scowl on his face while money exchanged hands, wary. He wondered if the gang leader would want to enjoy his prize in front of his gang...to show them, to claim him. Or would he give Mercer a chance to slit his throat?
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