Randall Penitentiary - Shower Submission

Troy figured that since Henrietta was out of commission, and Taz had made it clear that he wouldn’t be sharing his punk, that it was time to find somebody new. He wouldn’t go out of his way, he wouldn’t have to.

There was certainly no shortage of fresh prey to feed upon. Even though he was only 19, he knew enough of the world to never say never. Any fool that said he would never fuck a guy up the ass was a guy in denial.

Troy would fuck a raw slab of beef if one were available. He would fuck the eye socket of Sammy Davis fucking junior if somebody dug the nigger up and gave him the opportunity. He didn’t think in terms of gay or straight.

He thought in terms of busting his nut. Unlike most of his white supremacists brotherhood, who claimed that the only reason they stooped to fuck other males was the lack of female availability, he had no such self-delusions.

Simply put, if it stayed still long enough and would feel good wrapped around his cock, he was fucking it. Case closed. He had learned this about himself when he was 16, and already a member of a local skinhead group.

He had gotten busted for steeling a car and found himself in a juvenile detention center. He quickly learned there that one was either a fucker or fuckee in life and there was no doubt which side of the fence Troy was going to be on.

When he had been sentenced to Randall, he had absolutely no problem whatsoever with fucking any sorry punk ass that crossed his path.

He arrived at the showers and found a young spic there all by his lonesome. Funny how things just seemed to happen at the right time…

Troy turned back before the young guy saw him and had a little talk with the guard on shower-duty.

A loud clang echoed through the tiled room, causing Chico to turn around. He had heard that sound, and knew instantly what it meant. The guard had shut the heavy metal doors of the shower room. He expected to see Umberto there, maybe wanting to continue the brawl, but instead saw something even less welcome.

Standing less than ten feet away was a young muscular skinhead. His face indicated that he was 20- tops, but he was built like a Mack truck. FUCK! How could he had been so stupid! He had come to the shower to wash away some of the shame of having had his ass kicked by Umberto, and to do some thinking alone.

“What the fuck do you want peckerwood?” He sneered, trying to hide his increasing unease.

Troy had entered the room wearing only his white boxers. Lifting his right arm, he ran his big hand over the short stubble on his head, and smiled.

“I want to bend you over and fuck you so hard that a statue weeps in el barrio!” he said amiably. The Latino kid looked like he was in good shape, but would be no match for Troy’s strength and they both knew it.

Chico watched the arm flex with a tattoo of a dragon that perfectly accentuated the huge muscle, and knew he was in deep shit indeed.

“You want to start a war? My people outnumber yours 10-1. Come on- you aint that stupid!”

“Yeah I am,” He said, taking a step forward, “And my big ole dick is even stupider”

Chico knew he didn’t have a chance in hell of fighting his way out of this, even if the heavy iron doors to the shower room weren’t closed.

A few seconds passed, but for Chico they felt like minutes.

On one side of the powder blue tiled room was a naked, strong, but slim Latino boy who had participated in the punking of many new inmates, but as yet, hadn’t, himself had a man’s cock in his ass.

On the other was a randy skinhead, who also had punked many more before and after arriving at Randall. He was roughly the same height as Chico, but was twice as muscular. He had pale white skin, which made his two prominent tattoos stand out even more than they would have anyway.

“You want to fight first? I am all for it- gets the juices flowing, know what I mean?” Troy grinned.

“FUCK you AND you juices! You want to fuck me? You better think again, cause I aint a punk!” Chico was no longer scared. He was murderous. This motherfucker had the balls to smile in his face while talking about taking his manhood?

And that was what this was about: Manhood. Was there anything more worth dying for? Chico thought not, and was prepared to do just that. If this gringo thought it was going to come easy, he was dead fucking wrong. Chico Ruiz would not live, knowing another man had stuck a dick up his ass.

He would not walk through the hallways of Randall with niggahs whispering about him being somebody’s bitch. How could he ever look at his girl again? Hold his head up straight? Fuck THAT!

He dove at Troy so fast that he was a slick blur in the shower room, and hit Troy sending them both backwards. They landed and were pretty much wrestling for control. Troy hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to get this fucker down. He was thin and wiry, plus slippery from soap and water.

Troy did prevail, but it hadn’t come easy. When all was said and done, Chico had turned out to be a worthy fighter and had put up a noble defense. Troy felt his eye swelling, and knew he had gotten it blackened.

It just added to the intensity as far as he was concerned. He understood Chico’s desperation, and even admired him for it. He didn’t need to totally hate somebody to spike them with his young cock, he just had to be able to.

They were on the floor, both out of breath, and Chico was still trying to get out from under him. Troy had him in a tight chokehold and with one strong arm, had been able to trap both of the kid’s arms just under his neck.

His muscular legs were wrapped around Chico’s and the Latino knew he would have no choice now. Troy removed his now soaked boxers with some difficulty, and soon had his own naked body pressed closely against Chico’s.

Chico Bucked his hips, sending them both up a bit, but Troy was holding on tight, “Come on man, this is going to go down either way, if you calm the fuck down, I wont split you open.”

The words that were spoken came from lips that were almost touching his ears. They tickled as Troy said them, only making Chico feel more dominated, as if the words were almost coming from within his own head.

“How the fuck can I calm down!” Chico screamed, “You are about to ruin my life motherfucker, what do you want me to do, throw my legs in the motherfucking air and beg for it?”

“I know I could easily be in the same situation if I were as fucking stupid as you are, but…well…I’m not!” He was grinning again. Chico couldn’t see it, but he could feel it- sense it. It didn’t help.