Dogfight

I was basically daddy's bitch. He sends me off to the Doghouse to earn some cash, he uses it to buy his booze and weed, I get 25% of the pretty bland profit. And no, this wasn't some prostitution scheme he had in place like you may think, but sometimes I wondered what would be better, selling my body to random people, or getting the living daylights pounded out of me. But hey, at least I win my fights, unlike some of the people who go back to their grotty homes with broken limbs and shattered noses. They all think I'm an easy target, just because I'm small and a little on the scrawny side. But oh, I love the look of fear in their eyes when I make mashed potatoes out of their faces.

Nobody knows about this life of mine, though. Barely anybody knows about the Doghouse- I mean, why would they? It was a haven for wash-out boxers, steroid-driven athletes and people who were simply raised on the wrong side of town. At school I'm the normal guy, flying under the radar, using my weak appearance to just blend in with the rest of the oblivious teenagers. But then I had to try and be a hero, didn't I? I had to go and save his sorry ass from getting served to him on a silver platter. And oh, did catching his attention bring me trouble.

This story contains boyxboy, sex, violence, drug use, alcohol and other what-not.