Fresh Meat Pt. 01

All characters are over the age of 18 and are purely fictional. This story does contain Non-con/reluctance themes as a warning.

PSA: Hey guys just wanted to say thank you for the overwhelming positive reviews Futa Magnet got. I saw that a lot of people were looking forward to part 2. I didn't really have plans to continue it but I'll work on some rough drafts and see where it goes. This is my first attempt at a series and I'd appreciate some honest feedback. It's basically done and just needs some revision. The following parts should come out this month.

As usual I hope you guys enjoy the story.

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The cold winters of New York were nothing to joke about. For the past 2 weeks the temperature outside had averaged around 7 degrees with a steady snow fall that covered the ground in almost 5 inches of snow. Most businesses would lose customers around this time of year but Alex and his crew ran a business that thrived year round. Being in the drug game wasn't easy. The constant fear of getting killed by a rival or arrested by the police put fear into the hearts of most small time dealers but Alex wasn't your run of the mill corner boy.

He was an orphan who was smart enough to learn the inner workings of the foster system and make it out on top. He graduated high school with top marks and attended a prestigious university. At least he used to. With him being an orphan he had little financial backing and relied heavily on his scholarships to further his studies. Unfortunately the government cut the budget to the foster system which ran his scholarship. So when funding ran out his third year of college he had no choice but to drop out.

That was 3 years ago and since then he'd made more money in a month being an underboss than he would've in a year working as some financial advisor. Him and his boss Markus ran their crew like a clock, each person was a gear that made the overall mechanism function. If someone wasn't functioning correctly and causing problems Markus "fixed" them. Fortunately that hadn't happened in a while and everyone currently in the crew was like family.

Today was a special day for them. Alex had successfully networked with a French smuggler and secured a massive deal. The resulting score was huge. Big enough where he could exit the drug game alive and with enough money to start over comfortably. It was something that everyone in the drug game dreamt about but very few achieved.

Markus had taken the crew out to celebrate but Alex decided to stay behind and manage the money. He was in charge of keeping the books and going to clubs to get wasted wasn't really his scene anyways. Most of the guys in his crew were attractive players who loved flirting with the women at the club but Alex couldn't really do the same. His street name was Pretty Boy Alex and it suited him so well that any woman that saw him would think he was a woman himself. He figured that instead of getting rejected by them or become one of their "girlfriends" for the night, he'd stay behind and count the money he'd worked so hard to get.

Alex was at the stash house in a dilapidated part of town that had long been left to rot after the factories nearby shut down. It was the perfect place, with little to no occupants and long sightlines on all sides. He had already converted his large share into crypto currency and had placed it into an untraceable account. He was about half way done counting everyone else's shares when the motion sensor he had placed down the block rang.

Then the sensor from the opposite direction went off, followed by the one in the backyard. One sensor going off could've been a squirrel getting too close, two could've been a coincidence but three at the same time meant trouble.

Alex got up and slowly made his way to the window next to him. He peeked out the corner of the blinds and saw cop cars everywhere.

"T-There's no fucking way!"

Alex was positively stunned. Not only had they caught him off guard by arriving quietly with no sirens but they had also arrived in force. He counted 8 cars and was willing to bet a similarly sized group was waiting behind the house too. Suddenly the sensor for the front of the house rang and he turned on the security monitor to check it out. He panned the camera down just in time to see SWAT rushing the door with a sledgehammer and riot shield in toe.

"Oh shit! I gotta burn these, now!"

He quickly grabbed his phone, laptop, hard drives, and made his way to the kitchen. He was about to toss all of them into the microwave to destroy anything that could incriminate him but was a couple seconds too late. In an instant the front door was bashed open and a small cylinder was thrown into the kitchen, landing in front him.

"Is that a flash...."

*BANG*

In an instant his vision was blinded by a white light and his ears rang to the point where it had him on the floor in pain. His eyes burned as if he just had a staring contest with the sun and his ears ached so badly that he thought there was damage to his eardrums.

'Fuck! M-My ears! I....I gotta get up.'

As he tried to regain his barings he made out the faint shapes of SWAT running inside and rushing him. His vision was blurry and his ears were still ringing. He tried to get off the floor but they quickly surrounded him and when his hands were forcibly put behind his back he knew better than to even attempt to struggle. With his hearing slowly coming back, the first thing he was able to properly hear was an officer reading him his miranda rights.

"Alex Rosario! You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney......."

He zoned out what was being said. He'd heard it before and already knew what to do. His mind was far too busy trying to figure out how he got busted. The police response was just too fast. They came in with force and had him cuffed within 40 seconds. Something wasn't adding up and it infuriated him. There were no snitches in the crew, that much he was certain of which slightly put him at ease but besides that the possibilities were endless.

As Alex was escorted out of the house he found the answer to how he was caught. Standing next to the cops by a squad car was a homeless man but it wasn't some random one that stumbled upon the scene. It was the same homeless man that he'd been seeing in the neighborhood for the past 2 months and Alex's eyes widened in disbelief when he saw him pull out a badge from underneath his tattered clothes.

He couldn't believe it. Of all the things he had accounted for, it was the undercover cop who was disguised as a homeless bum that did him in. Alex was placed in the cruiser and when it started driving away from the stash house he felt the chill of despair run down his spine.

- Police Station

Once at the station he realized the depth of the shit he had landed himself in. Waiting for him in the interrogation room wasn't the local police or state officers but rather any criminal's worst nightmare. In bright yellow letters on the back of their coats Alex read their agency name with fear in his heart.

"F-FBI?"

The two agents turned to look at him and Alex read their ID cards. One was named John and was a tall gentleman with thinning black hair, and wore large reading glasses. He had a calm and serious look that no doubt came from years of experience.

While the other had his partner Robert looked far younger. He was below average height and was overweight with a patchy beard that looked like it needed a trim. Robert had a smug look of confidence already on his face. It was the one a person had when they knew everything was about to go their way. He sat on the edge of the interrogation table and leaned in to talk to Alex with the smell of fast food radiating off of him.

"Well, well, well! If it isn't Pretty Boy Alex. Your file said that you looked kinda feminine but hot damn, you look like a straight up model. Tell me, how often do you use that lewd body to get clients?"

"And you look like a sack of potatoes, who's one big Mac away from a heart attack. Tell me, how often do you think your wife cheats on you when you're not home? She probably goes to the gym and gets railed by her trainer who's probably balls deep in her pussy right now."

"Fuck you, you girly looking fagot! You wanna talk about my wife, I'll introduce my fist to your face bitch."

His partener quickly stepped in between the both of them to diffuse the situation. It was one thing to insult each other but to assault a handcuffed criminal was a sure fire way for his partner to lose his job.

"Hey! Take a walk and I'll start the questioning in the meantime."

"What? John this piece of shit is....."

"I WASN'T ASKING ROBERT! TAKE A WALK, NOW!"

Robert begrudgingly opened the door to leave but made sure to flip off Alex before he left. He slammed the door shut and Alex was left to deal with his level headed partner. John opened Alex's file and began to talk to him in a calm monotone voice.

"Alex Rosario also known as Pretty Boy Alex. Your file states that you're an orphan. You never tracked your parents down?"

"Dad was a soldier who was killed in action and I know nothing about my mom. I never meant either of them so it's not like there's much to miss."

"I'm sorry to hear about your father. He was an outstanding patriot and it's clear to see you took after your mother. She must be one very beautiful woman."

"If you say so."

Alex knew what the agent was doing. He was trying to build some kind of relation with him in order to find out more information that could be used to incriminate him later. In truth he did know a little information about his mother. It wasn't much, just that she used to work as a bottle girl at a strip club in Miami and that she was the hottest woman there. Alex's mind began to wonder and in his thoughts he began to think about her. What she was doing, where was she, why did she leave him in the hospital but John broke his day dreaming and brought him back to reality.

"It also says you went to NYU. That's a really good university. You're clearly very smart, why drop out?"

"I ran out of money."

"So you started selling drugs hoping to make enough money to go back and finish."

"I never said I sold drugs, nor did I say I had the desire to go back."

"Interesting. Also says you have no girlfriend or romantic interest. No intimacy with anyone now or for the last 3 years we've had you under surveillance."

"D-Don't need a woman right now. They serve as only distractions and liabilities for men who work hard."

"Ain't that the truth. You work hard, they get bored of you and take half of everything you got."

Alex watched John closely and couldn't get read on the agent in front of him. His facial expression showed no signs of emotion and Alex could tell that this was a man who would see through any bullshit he fed him. He watched John close his file and could now feel the seriousness of the air around him. He was done trying to connect with Alex and was ready to start questioning him.

"I see you're a very straight to the point kind of man. I like that. Means that you're not one for bullshit and neither am I. So let's stop avoiding the elephant in the room and get down to business. Tell me about your crew, how'd you guys operate, and who did you work with?"

"I want my lawyer."

"Come on now. The more you make this difficult, the worse it's gonna look for you. Listen, I can be your ally or your worst enemy. Just come clean and I'll give you my word that I'll fight to reduce your sentence."

"I said I want my lawyer."

He knew better than to talk. He wasn't a snitch and more importantly he knew his boss Marcus would have him killed within a week if he did. Then suddenly the door flew open and in walked his garden angel.

"I know you weren't trying to talk to my client without me present. How about you go get some donuts or whatever it is you guys eat and let me talk to my client."

Sharon was a bombshell of a woman and Alex struggled to take his eyes off her cleavage. Her massive double D's always looked ready to pop a button off her suit. He found her to be extremely attractive but he knew better than to cross that line with her. She was his lawyer and he ran a tight business. To mix work with pleasure was a sure fire way to fuck up his operation.

"Of course. I'm sure the two of you have a lot to discuss. I'll be outside waiting for your cooperation."

The agent left the room and closed the door in a calm manner unlike his partner earlier. Sharon then walked over and placed her briefcase on the table. She sat down across from Alex and took a deep breath before she started speaking.

"Alex......I'm not going to lie you, it's really fucking bad!"

"I know but....y-you've got this, right?"

She moved her briefcase aside and reached forward to put a hand on top of his. She'd been his lawyer for almost 2 years now. She'd gotten him out of plenty of tight spots before but he'd never seen her this concerned or try to comfort him.

"Alex, the FBI wants to throw the whole book at you. They're going hard with the charges because they've got you dead to rights. They're looking to give you 30 years to life with no possibility for parole."

"W-WHAT!"

"Yeah and that agent that just left is John Turner. He's the lead on this and he's damn good at what he does. You remember the 3 Fayden brothers from down south?"

"Yeah. They got busted trying to smuggle in a bunch of guns through a port down south in New Orleans a couple months ago. Why?"

"John was the lead on that case too. The Fayden brothers were backed by the cartel, so you know they had eyes and ears in the FBI but John still found a way to convict them. The guy ran an entire case while dealing with dirty agents and still managed to give each of them life sentences. John is relentless and it's down right scary how meticulous he is. He hasn't lost a case in over 20 years. That's who we're up against."

A big lump formed in his throat after hearing the amount of time they were going to give him. Alex felt light headed and started sweating profusely. He had done time prior to this but it was only for 2 months and his crew had gotten him protection on the inside. He was always prepared to do it again but to lose a half of his life behind bars was beyond soul crushing. Not to mention that he was up against one of, if not the best agent the FBI had. Things were getting worse by the second and showed no signs of stopping.

"S-Sharon, there's gotta be something we can do. I can't do 30 years on the inside. I'll do anything except snitch. Please, go in there and tell them. I'll do anything they want except that."

"I'm sorry Alex, I already did. Hell, I even bullshited and said you'd flip. Apparently it was a city wide sting operation and they caught multiple crews, even those small-time Dominican's uptown got busted."

"This can't be happening."

"It is Alex and I hate to be the bearer of bad news but it gets worse. Your whole crew, including your boss Markus are on their way to the morgue. They had a shootout with SWAT at some stripclub and refused to surrender their weapons. The cops put them down like stray dogs, Markus alone got hit about 14 times. So even if you did flip, the information would be redundant to them."

His eyes widened at the news that his entire crew was dead. It meant that John only asked him all those questions out of curiosity and not necessity. It also meant that his only way out which was previously off the table was now literally dead and gone.

"FUCK!"

He slammed his fist so hard on the table that he startled Sharon and made her tense up.

"Sharon, I can't do it. On the streets I can get by just fine. I had my crew, who's always had my back and on the inside I usually got people to help me out but, everyones gone now. I....I got no one. It's just me now. I'm alone.....again."

"I'm so sorry Alex. They might not have been model citizens but they were still your friends and didn't deserve to go out like that. I'll be honest with you, I'm the best at what I do but even I don't see any outs here."

He looked at the table. The coffee they had given earlier was now as cold as the snow outside and his hand visibly shook at the realization that his life was over. He knew on the inside he'd last at most a week without help.

Alex stood up and walked over to the one way glass of the interrogation room to look at his reflection not caring if someone was watching from the other side. He was a fair skinned young man who stood around 5'1 with shoulder length dirty blonde hair. He was born a man but his face gave zero inclination that he was indeed one. He was extremely gorgeous, borderline supermodel material, hence his street name of Pretty Boy Alex.

His eyebrows naturally looked done. His eyelashes were thick and were always curled. He had bright hazel eyes that shone beautifully in the sun. A small button nose that women always complemented. His lips were big, full, and for some reason even he was unaware of, they always looked glossy. As if he just put a fresh coat of lip gloss on and even in the current winter cold they never became chapped.

Even his voice sounded quite feminine. It sounded sultry and seductive even when he was upset. It bothered him so much that he made it a habit of dropping the tone of his voice when he spoke. The resulting voice was one that sounded exactly like what a person would expect from a woman trying to impersonate a man. He tried to drop his voice deeper but it only strained his vocal cords so he decided to stick with his tomboyish voice.

After learning his mother used to work as a bottle girl in a club in Miami, it made sense to Alex why his body looked the way it did. He was slender with thin girlish arms that would serve him little use in any task that required physical activity. Alex's hands were small, delicate, and soft to the touch. His torso was flat with little signs of abs but his chest slightly puffed out giving people the illusion that he was a flat chested woman.

From the waist down was where Alex could tell his mother's figure shined. Alex's thighs were thick and constantly rubbed against each other when he walked. He had wide child bearing hips that exploded into his large and voluptuous ass. His butt was so big that even the strippers at the club his crew went to would get jealous whenever he was forced to go. Right above his big round bum sat another genetic gift he'd gotten from his absent mother. A birthmark that was so perfectly shaped like a heart, people thought he had gotten a tramp stamp.

Alex had come to a conclusion when he was a freshman in college but looking at his reflection again made him think about it. That he was a short bimbo with a fat ass that by some genetic mistake was born a man and even he knew that pushing it. Alex's cock for all intensive purposes was small to say the least. Erect it was only 3 inches long and his marble sized balls sat right beneath it. He wasn't a virgin but he couldn't really tell his friends that he paid for any sex he had and that it usually lasted no more than 2-3 minutes.

There was only one time in Alex's life he could remember that women actually wanted him and not the fast drug money he could provide them. Alex remembered how one time he was on a resupply run down in Texas, where he was supposed to buy a couple bricks of cocaine off of a new supplier. The deal ended up not happening due to a disagreement in price, leaving him with a couple days of free time. While there he went to a club run by an all womens gang run by a lady by the name of Madam Long. She ran the group like a sisterhood and it was easy to identify its members by the bunny paw tattoo behind their ears.