Hassle (Barry) Havens

Hassle was tall, broad-shouldered, as strong as an ox. He had thick callused fingers, which gripped Anthony’s cock like it was nothing, looking up at Anthony as if Anthony was supposed to say something.
But all Anthony could think about was his cock in Hassle’s grip. That, plus the swastikas.
His brother had mentioned that Hassle was a Nazi. Anthony thought that was an exaggeration. But Hassle had a shaved head, pale as fresh snow, and his back was adorned with a giant red swastika, which rippled over his taut muscles. German words were printed in Gothic letters on his chest. His square jaw jutted, as he grimaced at Anthony, those club-like fingers still tweezering Anthony’s limp dick.

From Cholos and the Raunchy Hobos of Santa Monica

Officer Goober came back out a few moments later, followed by a stately man with broad, alabaster shoulders contained within a strappy wifebeater. His muscles barely fit beneath the fabric. He had a tight six-pack, barely visible because that wifebeater was too small for him and had a giant hole in it, and he wore a pair of sweatpants that you could tell were his pajamas. His eyes were dim and clouded, like Goober had just woken him up.
It took Simon a minute to realize that was Hassle. The swastikas tattooed over his heart, belly and shoulder were the giveaway. He also had the name HASSLE tattooed across his neck, but it was harder to make those letters out because they were shadowed by his square, jutting jaw. The big dark blob of a tattoo on his chest was Hitler’s flinty face.
Hassle was as strong as Buck, maybe, Simon thought, or at least close to it. He was shorter than Buck by a little. And he was basically hairless, very much unlike Buck. Hassle had a shaved head like an albino cue ball, and his chest was just as smooth — either naturally hairless or maybe he shaved that too. Simon hadn’t got a look at his legs because he was wearing those sweatpants. Now those sweatpants were crumpled up on the floor by the bunk.
His back was tattooed with the number 88 and some arcane Gothic lettering. Simon moved closer to read it, only for Hassle to let go of his cock because the angle was awkward. Simon pressed his dick on the meaty muscle between Hassle’s shoulder blades, right on an unidentifiable shape (which Simon gathered was a crude map of the Nazi empire at its height).

From Simon and the Bouncers

Hassle was a big-ass skinhead — he got swastikas and Hitler quotes tattooed all over his back under that denim workshirt, including a giant red swastika that stretched from his shoulderblades to the top of his buttcheeks. His shaved cueball head and square jaw made him look fierce, and his well-muscled body towered over Cody.

From Bunkmates in the Dark

“Thumper,” Hassle said with a frown upon his squareness — he got a big square face, all the parts of which seemed too big for each other, like he was made of inflated rectangles. He be stone-facing. He do that, Hassle is like that. He looked down on Bill, who got even paler than usual.
That’s cuz Hassle got a swastika on his right bicep, and his shirt-sleeves was rolled up, so Bill clocked it. Hassle was covered in iron crosses, swastikas, quotes in German, all that hoohah. He done told Thumper he weren’t never a real nazi, he just played at one cuz in prison.
Could be true. Thumper don’t know. It happens. Thumper and the Aryan Way was stab-mad with each other, but lucky for Hassle, Hassle was on the outs with the Aryans too. So Thumper ain’t feel no urge to gut him.

From Thumper on Parole

Hassle was a chowder-white Aryan — complete with swastikas visible on his back around the moth-nibble holes and raggedy edges of his wifebeater. He got a cueball head and a bald chin, a big noble jaw and a fist-shape nose.

From Thumper the Booty Bandit

Hassle was a bull-headed neo-Nazi, his boxer’s body covered in swastikas and German words. His head was as smooth as a cue ball. He had been a trustee, living at the jail and doing odd jobs for the cops, for a long time. His skin was porcelain, untanned and unblemished, aside from the tattoos.

From Johnny Redcob the Bouncer

Hassle was a “bucket trustee”. That meant he was a long-time prison inmate, possibly a lifer. Rather than do his sentence in the state pen, he worked at the police station, mopping floors and keeping the lawn trim.
That meant he gotta get the cops off when they needa blow a nut, as well as sometimes whoeversoelse was walking around town with a uncontrollable stiffy. Better to let Hassle get ’em off than have ’em groping waitresses and nice girls.

From Wayne the Ex-Cop

In the back cell, the biggest, there was a well-furnished cell. Inside sat a cuehead Hassle. He was tall and stacked with corded muscles, and he glowered at the assembled wrestlers. Something about him was offputting to them — he had a big square face, no neck and a broad body covered with scars and swastika tattoos. His flat mien made the wrestlers all fall silent and awkward.
They were quieter than ever. Not even Coach Marshall could get them that quiet. It was those white-power tattoos that did it.
Some of them was bigger than Hassle, but they all sensed he could and would kick their asses if he wasn’t a trustee. Being a trustee meant he was a prison lifer, he just worked off his sentence here at the local precinct. He mopped floors and mowed lawns.

From Marshall the Coach

There, mopping the floor, was a tall, burly and broad-shouldered white man with a shaved head and a thick square jaw like Buck’s. He wore workpants and a denim shirt that read TRUSTEE in big block letters above his heart.

From Aroused by Ex-Cons

A muscular man with a shaved head came to the cell bars in that other cell at the back of the jailhouse. He was solid as bricks, arms like steel girders, shoulders broader than a doorway. He wasn’t as tall as Jimmy, but he was cut, while Jimmy was more meaty. Anyway, his size wasn’t what Jimmy focused on, once his eyes focused on the man.
It was his tattoos.
Specifically, the iron cross on his neck and the swastika on his bicep.

From The Alpha Jock & the Trustee

Hassle’s cell was the last one on the left. It was bigger than the others, and it had a small teevee, a chair and personal photos, clothes and shelves all over. The other cells were unfurnished except for a toilet and sink.

From Marshall the Coach

The only cell with a’rythang in it was Hassle’s, the last one on the left. T’was outfitted with a bunk covered in nice blankets and pillows, a bean-bag chair, a writing desk with pictures of his daughter upon it and a mirror aside the sink and toilet.

From Buck the Workin’ Man