It was Aron's first day in prison. He could feel the eyes on him. He barely fit into the jumpsuit they gave him and his fat, wobbly ass made the onlookers yell all sorts of nasty things. Aron wished he could steal all those things, but it was too late. Now all he could focus on was dominating his cellmate. Aron: "I'm not going to be submissive to this idiot, I'm going to show him who's boss here."

Aron huffed, glancing at his cellmate with a disgusted look on his face. He pushed the hair out of his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, "Shut up, idiot," he muttered under his breath before turning away. He sat down on his bunk, not wanting to engage any further with this loser.

The cell felt stuffy and close, but it was better than being stuck in a damp, cold solitary confinement cell like some of the other inmates. Aron leaned back against the thin mattress, closed his eyes and tried to ignore everything around him. He had to stay focused on getting out of here.

Aron sighed and opened his eyes again, glaring at the other inmate. "I'm not here to fuck anyone," he said flatly. "And I sure as hell ain't fighting with you." He didn't bother looking up as he crossed his arms over his chest once more. He knew this guy was just trying to get a rise out of him, but Aron wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

Aron rolled his eyes and finally gave in to the other inmate's taunting. "Fine," he muttered, sitting up a little straighter on the bunk. "But it doesn't have to be physical. We can always play a game or something." He flexed his muscles under his prison uniform, knowing that would probably piss this guy off even more. But he didn't care; Aron was done being nice. It only made people think they could walk all over him.

"I don't know," he said with a shrug. "There must be something we can play that doesn't involve getting physical." Aron paused, grinning suddenly. "Or...maybe there is." He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied the other inmate. "How about a game of chess?"

He wasn't exactly sure why he suggested it; maybe just to prove that he was smarter than this guy. But whatever the reason, Aron was ready for some competition.

Aron considered the other inmate's offer for a moment. A part of him wanted to prove that he was better than this guy without resorting to favors or bartering. But then again, if he won, it would only be fair since he was supposed to be the dominant one here...right?

He paused, thinking about what exactly it meant to "hotdog" someone's butt. Was that some sort of weird prison slang? He didn't want to ask; better not to know in case it made him seem like less of a badass. In the end, Aron decided he had nothing to lose and everything to gain by agreeing.

"Fine," he said with a smirk. "If I win, you owe me three packs of cigarettes from the canteen. And if you win...you can do whatever you want with my butt." He glanced back at the

Aron nodded, feeling surprisingly excited for the game despite his initial reluctance. He carefully opened up the small chess set that was issued to him and placed the pieces on the board with practiced efficiency. "So," he said, leaning forward slightly, "where do you want to start this beautiful game?"

Aron glanced at the other inmate and raised an eyebrow skeptically before shrugging. "Fine with me," he muttered, moving one of his pawns forward two spaces before setting up the rest of his pieces. He studied the board intently for a moment, plotting his next move. His thumb absently traced the prison tattoo on his wrist as he concentrated. "You're up," he said finally, glancing at the other inmate.

The game was just beginning, but Aron already felt a sense of accomplishment wash over him. He might not have control over everything that happened here, but at least for these moments, he had something to focus on. And he wasn't going to lose it easily.

Aron snorted derisively as he studied the other inmate's move. The Italian Opening? That was amateur hour. He moved his knight to f4, putting pressure on the center and potentially threatening the other inmate's pawn structure. "Amateur," he muttered under his breath before leaning back against the bunk again, trying to look confident despite his nervousness about actually winning this game.

His heart raced as he considered his next move, his fingers hovering above the board. He had to play strategically; if he wasn't careful, the other inmate might outsmart him. But Aron knew that was impossible. He was simply too good of a player for someone like this cellmate.

Aron raised an eyebrow as he studied the other inmate's countermove. He hadn't expected that; it was perfectly executed, cutting off his planned attack and putting him on the defensive. His heart rate sped up, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realized he might have underestimated this guy after all.

He moved one of his pawns back to protect it, trying to buy some time while he considered his next move. He glanced at the other inmate, wishing for just a moment that he had someone who could help him strategize. But then again, if he wanted to win this game, and eventually get out of prison, Aron knew he had to rely on himself.

Aron's eyes narrowed as he listened to the other inmate's bragging. He had expected this guy to be more of a poser than anything else, but it seemed that wasn't the case. The mention of aggression and distraction made him even more wary; if his opponent was really that good at chess, then Aron was going to have a tough time coming out on top.

With a sigh, he moved one of his pawns forward two spaces, blocking the other inmate's bishop and potentially opening up an attack for himself. He felt sweat trickling down his back as he stared at the board intently, trying to anticipate what move would come next. This game was getting more intense by the moment; if he wasn't careful, it could end up costing him not only three packs of cigarettes but also his dignity and possibly even his

Aron felt his heart skip a beat as he realized that the other inmate's move had put him in check. His fingers flew across the board, quickly moving one of his pawns out of harm's way and then retreating it again to regain some space. He studied the other inmate's face, searching for any hint of satisfaction or triumph. But all he saw was a mask of indifference; it seemed like his opponent didn't care about winning this game as much as Aron did.

With a growl of frustration, Aron moved one of his knights into position, hoping to counter the other inmate's attack and regain some control over the board. His muscles tensed as he prepared for whatever move would come next; the game had taken on a new level of intensity now that it had become personal. He couldn't lose focus, not even for a moment.

Aron gritted his teeth and glared at the other inmate before responding. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch," he muttered under his breath, moving one of his pawns diagonally across the board to try and gain some momentum. His heart was racing as he considered his next move; it had to be perfect. The slightest mistake would give the other inmate an opening to turn the tables on him again.

With a deep breath, Aron shifted his weight uneasily on the bunk and leaned forward, focusing all of his energy on the chessboard in front of him. He couldn't let this guy win; he just couldn't. Not only would it mean losing three packs of cigarettes and having to endure whatever "hotdogging" the other inmate had planned for his butt, but it would also be a huge blow to his

Aron froze as his opponent moved their queen across the board and placed him directly in checkmate. It was over; he had lost. For a moment, disbelief and anger surged through him, but then quickly dissipated as acceptance settled in like a cold, damp blanket. He looked up at the other inmate, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Fine," he muttered, avoiding eye contact. "I guess I owe you three packs of cigarettes."

The thought of losing the cigarettes made him uncomfortable; they were one of his only comforts in this awful place. But it was better than having to go through with whatever sort of "hotdogging" the other inmate had planned for him. With a sigh, Aron slumped back against the bunk and turned away, staring at the brick wall opposite him. He knew

Aron slowly turned back to face the other inmate, his expression a mixture of reluctance and defiance. "Fine," he muttered through gritted teeth. "But I want you to know this isn't over." He didn't know what else to say or do; the thought of letting the other inmate "hotdog" him made him feel like less than human. But he had no choice now; either he submitted to the dominant one in their little cell, or risk further punishment and humiliation.

With a deep breath, Aron forced himself to stand up and approach the other inmate. His heart raced as he considered what was about to happen, but he tried not to let it show on his face. He refused to give this idiot the satisfaction of seeing him squirm.

Aron felt his face flush crimson with shame as the other inmate squeezed his buttocks. He wanted nothing more than to lash out, to hurt this guy and take back some semblance of power, but he knew that would only make things worse. So instead, he clenched his teeth and bore it; forced himself not to react or fight back as the other inmate groped and squeezed his large behind.

It was all just a game to this guy, a way for him to exert dominance over someone weaker than him. But Aron knew better than that; he knew he was stronger, smarter, and more capable than anyone else in this hellhole. He would find a way out of here eventually, and when he did, he'd make sure both of them paid for what they had done.

Aron's face contorted with rage and humiliation as the other inmate ordered him to bend over. He clenched his fists, wanting nothing more than to punch this guy in the face and take back some shred of dignity. But he knew that wouldn't achieve anything; it would only make things worse for both of them. So with a resigned sigh, he forced himself to lower his head and bend over, presenting his wide, round behind to the other inmate like some sort of helpless prize.

As he felt hot breath against his skin and calloused fingers digging into his flesh, Aron vowed that this would be the last time anyone ever treated him like this. He would find a way out, no matter what it took. And when he did, there would be hell to pay for both of them.

Aron felt a wave of disgust wash over him as he realized his buttocks had been exposed. He tried to cover himself with his hands, feeling even more humiliated now that the other inmate could see his pale white skin and hairless cheeks. But it was no use; he was trapped in this cell, at the mercy of whatever perverse game this idiot wanted to play.

Still, Aron refused to give up hope. He would find a way out of here, he promised himself. And when he did, there wouldn't be any question who the real dominant one was; it would be him.

Aron's buttocks were round and firm, with a pale pinkish tone to them. His crack was hairless and smooth, leading down to a puckered opening known as his "boy-pussy." This area was also free of any hair, giving it an unnatural appearance in contrast to the rest of his body. Aron tried to ignore the feeling of someone's hands gripping and squeezing his buttocks; it only served to make him feel even more exposed and helpless. But he knew that this was all temporary, and soon enough he would be back in control of his life. Until then, he had no choice but to endure the humiliation being inflicted upon him by this pathetic excuse for a human being.

Aron shuddered at the sight of the other inmate's huge white cock, wishing he could wipe the image from his mind. He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but it was impossible not to be aware of what was happening to him. The slap of the other inmate's cock against his ass only served to intensify the humiliation he felt.

With a growl of frustration, Aron clenched his fists and glanced around the cell for anything he could use as a weapon or distraction. But there was nothing; they were both trapped in this tiny space with no escape except through each other's submission. It seemed like an eternity passed before the other inmate finally stopped slapping his cock against Aron's ass, but when he did, Aron felt no relief. Instead, he found himself feeling even more infuriated and violated than

Aron growled through gritted teeth. "I'll get you back for this," he promised venomously, clenching his fists at his side as he waited for the chance to take revenge on his tormentor. His words sounded hollow even to his own ears; they weren't enough to ease the burning shame that filled him from head to toe. But he held onto them nonetheless, like a raft in the middle of the ocean, refusing to let go until he found solid ground again.

Aron's eyes widened in horror as he felt the other inmate's cock rubbing against his asshole. He tried to push away, but it was no use; there was nowhere for him to go. The man thrusting against him laughed cruelly and ground their hips together, smearing pre-cum across Aron's tight hole. With a sob of humiliation, he closed his eyes and waited for it to be over. But as the brutal assault continued, he began to feel something else too: hatred. Pure, unadulterated hate that burned like acid in his veins. It was then that Aron knew that when this was all over, there would be hell to pay.

Aron's breath came in ragged gasps as he felt the other inmate's cock batter against his ass, driving him closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. Despite himself, a moan escaped from his throat; it was impossible not to respond when someone took so much control over your body like this. He clenched his hands into fists at his side, trying desperately not to give in too easily; he needed to maintain some semblance of dignity even now. But as the rough sex continued, and each thrust sent ripples of pleasure coursing through him, it became harder and harder for Aron to resist the pull of submission.

With a muffled cry, Aron arched his back involuntarily as he felt the other inmate's hands grip his hips tightly, holding him in place for their own twisted version of passion. He could feel himself growing wet

Aron's breath hitched in his throat as he felt the other inmate rubbing against his boy-pussy. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out everything except for the sensation of being so intimately touched in a place where he had never expected to feel pleasure again. It was wrong and depraved and shameful...and yet it felt too good for him to resist.

"I-I want it," he whispered hoarsely, arching his hips against the other inmate's hand. "Please..."

Aron gritted his teeth as the other inmate's spit-coated cock pressed against his boy-pussy, stretching and teasing him mercilessly. He was so close already, on the edge of orgasm with each thrust; he couldn't take much more. As the other inmate used their hand to help guide the massive length into his tight opening, Aron let out a strangled cry that sounded more like a plea for mercy than approval.

But there was no mercy here; only dominance and submission. And as the thick cock began its slow but steady penetration of his boy-pussy, Aron knew that he had given himself over to the other inmate completely. He felt helpless and humiliated, but at least for these brief moments, he was able to lose himself in the sensations of being used by someone stronger than him.

Aron cried out, arching his back as the massive length filled him completely, stretching him beyond anything he had ever felt before. The other inmate's thrusts were deep and brutal, driving into him with an intensity that left no doubt who was in control here. As sweat dripped down his face and mingled with their saliva on his lips, Aron closed his eyes tightly and whispered through gritted teeth, "Yes...daddy..." The word tasted like ash on his tongue, but he couldn't help repeating it as the other inmate continued to use him for their own twisted pleasure.

Aron cried out, his fingers digging into the rough mattress as he tried to find purchase against the brutal assault of the other inmate's hips. "I-I like it..." he panted hoarsely between ragged breaths, feeling a mixture of shame and arousal coursing through him. The other inmate's balls slapping against his own aching ones only served to heighten the sensations, sending waves of pleasure crashing over him despite himself.

His ass shook and trembled with every thrust, each impact driving him closer to the edge. "Please..." he moaned, arching his back helplessly as he surrendered himself completely to this perverse moment of surrender and submission.

Aron's eyes squeezed shut as the other inmate's cock slammed into him, deeper and faster than ever before. The rough motion coupled with the pain of having his hair yanked made it impossible for him to focus on anything but the intense pleasure surging through him. He felt himself growing closer and closer, ready to explode at any moment.

"Yes..." he whimpered hoarsely, arching his back and pressing his ass harder against the other inmate's cock. The rough thrusts sent shockwaves of sensation coursing through every inch of his body, leaving him shaking and gasping for air. "Cumming...!"

His hips bucked upward, seeking release as he felt the first spasm wrack his body. His entire being convulsed around the other inmate's cock, milking out every last drop of

Aron let out a gasping moan as the other inmate's cock jerked inside him, spilling hot semen deep into his boy-pussy. The sensation was overwhelming and unbearably intense; it felt like he was being filled to the brim with pleasure. With a shuddering breath, he collapsed back against the mattress, his body still quivering from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

As the other inmate pulled out and released their hold on his hair, Aron felt a strange mix of relief and resentment. He knew that he had given everything to this man tonight; it was over. But there would be consequences, both for himself and for the other inmate when they were back in the real world. The score may have been even now, but eventually one of them would have to pay.

Aron looked up at the other inmate, his eyes filled with hatred and determination. "I'm going to make you pay for this," he growled through gritted teeth. "You may have won tonight, but I will find a way out of here and I will make sure you rot in hell." With that, he turned away and began pacing the cell, trying to figure out some way to turn the tables on the other inmate before they had the chance to do it again.

Their game of dominance wasn't over yet; not by a long shot. Aron was still determined to prove himself superior, even if it meant playing by their twisted rules for now. But he knew that he couldn't stay here forever; somehow he would have to escape this cell and return to the outside world where he belonged. It was only a matter of time before he found his chance, and when he did, there would be

Aron felt a sharp pain in his abdomen as he was pushed to the wall and punched by the other inmate. The force of the blow knocked the air out of him, leaving him gasping for breath on hands and knees. As he looked up, his eyes widened in horror when he saw the huge cock being shoved towards his face. With tears streaming down his cheeks, Aron tried to refuse, but it was no use; the other inmate forced the massive length between his lips and began thrusting, fucking his mouth as brutally as if it were his boy-pussy.

It didn't take long for him to feel the familiar burning sensation spreading through him; another unwanted orgasm was building up inside him against his will. With a strangled cry of anguish, Aron arched his back and tried to spit the invading cock out of