Humiliated by a Scammer

Zion has no idea his family was targeted by a scammer who took everything they owned, and now it’s Zion’s turn to experience the ultimate in alpha male dominance! Can he submit to the superior man?

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“Look here, Zion, boy, I’m gonna be real upfront wit’cha,” said Uncle Nelson. Zion had trouble concentrating on his words because Uncle Nelson was so intimidating. He was tall, broad shouldered and thick-bodied. He had a dense bristly mustache. He had come over without Zion’s grandmother — who had married Uncle Nelson just a few months ago. He had never come to Zion’s apartment above the family restaurant without her. “I came into ya grandmama’s life wit’ an ulterior motive.”
“Where is she-?”
Nelson slapped him. “Don’t you interrupt me. I put her in a home.”
“What?” Zion’s heart sank. “Where? What?”
He slapped Zion hard. “Make me say it again, nigga! Make me say it again! Shut yo’ mouth!”
Despite his huge size, Uncle Nelson had always been incredibly kind until today. Zion was much smaller and weaker, so he had been scared from the moment his grandmom brought Nelson home from church one day. He was new to the area then, and he had fallen in love with her right away. Nelson was broad and muscular, so strong it looked painful, like he must struggle to carry around all those muscles.
“Now yo’ grandmama signed this whole building over to me,” Nelson said. He paused to see if Zion would interrupt him again, but he didn’t. Zion trembled in front of him. Nelson lightly slapped his cheek again. “Listen Zion boy, you know what liquidate means? Course you don’t, you a dummy. It means when you take somethin’ that ain’t worth much and you take it apart and you use all the parts some other way. Like when a store goin’ outta business, they liquidate it. You feel me, Zion boy?”
“Yeah, man, but where’s my dad-?”
“Yo’ daddy’s in jail, but I’m comin’ to that.” He smiled. “I ain’t a nice nigga, Zion boy. I know I been actin’ nice, but I ain’t nice at all. Yo’ family was not wise to trust me.” He undid his belt and let his pants plop heavily to the floor, then he took his dick out. Zion yelped in surprise — and fear, because it was more than a foot long, veiny and dark, and it smelled vaguely of sweat and pussyjuice — and he tried to stand up, but Nelson pushed him back down. “Lemme just be real frank wit’cha. Yo grandmama married me and signed e’rything over to me. So I own yo’ family’s house and yo’ family’s store and I even own yo’ car, nigga, which by the way, you may not use.”
“You can’t do that-!”
“Already done, nigga. Yo’ daddy’s in jail cuz I tol’ him I put yo’ sister out on the street as a ho if he ain’t sign this murder confession — there was a killin’ I had weighin’ me down, nigga. Not no more,” he said. He carefully folded his pants and put them on the table next to him. Then he picked up his dick as though to display it for Zion’s benefit. He held it in one hand, and Zion was unable to look away from it. It jiggled when Nelson spoke. “Now yo’ sister was a little old to start hoin’, but I’m gonna make it work. She can make me a pretty penny.”
“Wait, what?!”
“I am liquidatin’ yo’ family, nigga. Y’all is a bunch of rank-ass pussies, and I am takin’ ya out,” he said. He thwacked his limp dick over Zion’s face. “You might wanna start lickin”, befo’ I get real mad, Zion boy.”
“My dad is in jail? He-“
But Nelson’s cock pushed into Zion’s mouth, and Nelson chuckled as Zion gagged. His dick was limp and rubbery at first, tasting of salty sweat. Tears welled up in Zion’s eyes. That fat cock rested on his tongue, and when he tried to push it off, Nelson slapped his hands away. He didn’t do anything with his dick, it just rested there, like Zion’s mouth was its new natural home.
Then Nelson swayed, making his limp dick jiggle and jump around, roping over Zion’s face. It was so thick, much thicker than Zion’s, and it smelled like a locker room in a low-cost gym. Zion’s stomach churned.
His mind kept replaying the things Nelson had said. None of that made sense, what did he mean? Zion’s sister was not a prostitute. His father was not a murderer, none of this made sense. Why was Nelson acting like this? But Zion couldn’t formulate any words because he was entranced by the rod of throbbing hot dickfat smearing Nelson’s body odor over every inch of Zion’s face.
“Ah, yeah, this is the part I love,” Nelson said. “No teeth. No hands. No regrets.” He moaned without breaking eye contact with Zion, who felt a flush of embarrassment and looked away. Nelson dug his nails into Zion’s cheeks and forced his eyes back to Nelson’s. “Lookit me when I’s plowin’ you, boy. You mine now, nigga. You should thinka yo’self as a slave, even if the law ain’t allow slaves no more.”
“But, Uncle Nelson, I-“
He laughed, forcing his cock back into Zion’s throat. It was so huge that it didn’t feel real to Zion, who had never seen a cock so big. A few drops of precum hit his tongue, and the electrifyingly salty flavor made Zion gag.
“You still callin’ me uncle, boy? I ain’t yo’ family.” He wrapped his hands around the back of Zion’s head, and began to slowly grind his dick lower and lower in Zion’s throat. “I let you be a busboy in the restaurant. I ain’t gonna pay you a damn dime, but I let ya eat scraps and shit. You may not find any of the waitresses sexy.”
Having been in shock since this began, Zion hadn’t really fought back. But as his throat heaved and his lungs cried out for oxygen, he realized he could fight. He clawed at Nelson’s muscle-bound body and squirmed. His whole body tensed up, but Zion was skinny and lanky, not solid like Nelson.
“Ah, there it is, there you go,” Nelson said. He held tightly onto Zion’s head. “You fightin’ now, huh? That’s normal, that’ll pass. I’m gonna break you, boy. See it used to be that the rule of law weren’t so strong, and weak-kneed motherfuckers like you and yo’ whole family just get took up by some strong motherfucker like me, someone who can make sure you reach yo’ maximum potential. For you…” Nelson laughed, smearing tendrils of spit over Zion’s face as he watched him choke on his massive cock. “Yo’ maximum potential is a busboy who occasionally gets to eat my asshole. Yo’ whole family was garbage, Zion boy. Yo’ granddaddy was worth a damn, but he dead now. You’d have just run this company into the ground. I’m takin’ it.”
Zion squealed and tried to crawl away, but Nelson = punched him again. Pain erupted in Zion’s side, and he collapsed onto the floor. Zion rolled onto his back. Nelson slowly lowered his hefty, broad ass right on Zion’s face. His crack was choked with dark kinky black hairs, which scratched Zion’s skin.
“Lick it up, Zion boy, get ya tongue in there.” When Zion didn’t comply right away, Nelson punched him in the belly. Zion groaned. “Get yo’ tongue inside my asshole now, bitch.”
Zion still wanted to fight, but he was so weak and skinny. His body submitted even as his mind wanted to fight back. His tongue slipped into Nelson’s asshole. The taste of man-funk flooded his senses.
It was so rank, so foul, the flavor overwhelming all of Zion’s other senses. Utter humiliation wracked his body. Only an absolute fool would let another man do this, he thought.
Nelson loudly moaned. His ass-sweat trickled into Zion’s mouth, and Zion gagged so violently his stomach hurt. Nelson sat on his face, all of his weight pressing down on Zion’s head. He was big man, and it felt like Zion’s head was going to cave in. He couldn’t focus on anything but squirming beneath Nelson’s giant body.
“Move ya tongue around some more. How’s my ass taste, boy?”
“Please… stop-” Zion had to shout to be heard through the meat of Nelson’s ass. That made Nelson laugh and pound on Zion’s belly some more.
“Nah, this is yo’ life now, Zion boy, it’s already done. Get used to it.” Nelson rubbed his asshole over Zion’s face, leaving a layer of funk. Zion’s nose dug into his asscrack from top to bottom. “From now on, e’ry time I come into my restaurant, or up here — anytime you see me, basically — I want you to lick my asshole, okay?”
“No!”
Nelson stood up and punched Zion in the belly. Zion screamed and gagged as the rush of fresh air made the assy taste on his tongue even more rancid. He writhed, but Nelson made him stay on his back. “What’d I say? You my slave, bitch. You can leave any time, but I own ya ass. I own this building and I own ya car and I own ya job and I own e’rything here in this apartment. I got ya daddy in jail and ya grandmom in care and ya sister out hoin’. I can decide to drop any one of ’em loose anytime,” he said.
Through his tears, Zion grunted. “I can… do…-“
“You can leave, wit’ nothin’. I will take the shoes off ya feet. I just might break all the bones in yo’ feet too, just to make sure you nevuh work again. You will work for me, Zion, for the rest of your life. Or I will make your whole family’s life hell. Ya feel me?”
“Y…. Yes.”
“Good. Now say ‘I will lick yo’ asshole, Nelson’.”
A sob escaped from Zion’s lips. “I… I will lick ya asshole, Nelson.” Zion’s tears were squashed by Nelson plopping down on his face again.
This time, Zion had no choice but to lap at that funky hole as tears streamed down his cheeks. The filthy, gritty feeling was almost, but not quite, enough to make him forget his sobbing. Nelson guided Zion’s hands around his body to his cock. Zion’s tongue ran up his guys and tasted his sweat, while his hands stroked from the root to the tip of Nelson’s fat throbbing dick.
“Stroke me off, boy. That’s how you do a rimjob. Tongue in deeper. Tongue deeper, boy!” He punched Zion in the belly again, and when Zion cried out, he grabbed his tongue. He pulled it out until Zion squealed. “See this? You got a good five inches of tongue here, boy. I wanna feel all five inches in my ass, or I swear to Christ I will shove my foot up your ass, and I am not playin’, I can show you the evidence I did it before.”
He nearly lifted Zion from his knees by his tongue but instead lowered his ass to meet his face, so he reached underneath himself to shove Zion’s tongue into his asshole. He did it so forcefully his own finger penetrated his own ass at the same time, while Zion sobbed into the filthy asscrack of the superior man above him.
Zion tried to look away, but each time Nelson slapped him and forced him to look him in the eye. He was so intimidating that Zion couldn’t think of any plan besides squirming and begging whenever he could catch a breath. Nelson’s burly mustache shook as he sneered.
“You are one pitiful li’l bitch. You a sissy?” He raised his eyebrows and looked down at them.
“No! No, come on!”
“You should be
The fact that Nelson was not a thug made him scarier to Zion. He looked like a church deacon — he was, in fact, a church deacon — and he spoke like a Hollywood hero (or villain). He had a slightly stawk-heavy East Coast accent, sounding like he was from maybe Philadelphia or someplace like that. New Jersey, maybe. His words rang out like a prophecy in Zion’s ears.
Zion felt filthy and worthless. Zion sobbed in Nelson’s plump ass, while Nelson rubbed his hole over Zion’s tongue like a dog with infected anal glands. Every time Zion’s tongue stopped moving for even a second, Nelson hit him or pinched him hard until Zion resumed lapping at his grimy prostate.
Nelson let out a long, low whistle. His cock throbbed in Zion’s hands. “Hell yeah, there ya go. Fuck yeah. You got it. This is how you do a rimjob, Zion. All of ya tongue in there, hands on my dick… You gonna make me nut, boy, I swear… I was gonna wreck ya asshole today, but maybe I wait.”
A fluid hit Zion’s tongue. It was rancid and sour, and it tasted like farts, but Zion was pretty sure it was spit, cuz Nelson was spitting on his face, it seemed. Through his sobs and retches, Zion heard him calmly hocking up loogey after loogey. Zion squirmed, sobbing in pain and disgust. Nelson punched him in the belly over and over again.
“Keep ya tongue up in there, boy, and move it around some,” Nelson said. He groaned. “Yeah, nigga… Hell yeah…” His muscles all flexed at once, and a hot spray of cum shot over his flat belly. He shot a huge flow that seemed to go on for minutes, real honest-to-god minutes of continuous flow, coating his muscular chest in a sheen of jizz, which immediately ran down to his balls and his taint and then at last onto Zion’s tongue in his ass.
Zion was only barely aware of his own hands on Nelson’s dick. He didn’t really move them, he just held on, while Nelson ground his ass over Zion’s face, the movement making Zion give him a handjob as he licked his asshole. It must have felt good, the handjob or maybe the tongue, because Nelson let out a long simmering murmur that rattled the walls of Zion’s apartment.
A loud gag escaped from Zion’s throat, the sound swallowed by Nelson’s hefty body. Zion cringed as sticky fluids ran down his throat, coating his tongue. He thought for sure he’d never make that taste go away.
“Yeah, nigga… Ah shit, I am gonna like keepin’ you ’round as a rimjob-bitch. Get used to this,” he said with another whistle. He rubbed his butt over Zion’s face, sending fresh new waves of disgusting flavor onto Zion’s tongue. “Keep ya tongue out, boy.”
He grabbed Zion’s tongue as he lifted himself up. Zion yelped because Nelson really squeezed on his tongue with his fingers. Then Nelson kneeled next to Zion, put his nose right in front of Zion’s tongue and inhaled deeply.
“You smell like pure submission, bitch.” He hocked up another big loogie and spat it onto Zion’s tongue. It was grimy and sour, and Zion squirmed all over again. Drool spilled out of his mouth as he gagged over and over. Nelson had a disgusted sneer on his face, holding Zion by the tongue. He spat again and again.
Then he pointed to the cum he had sprayed over his own chest and flat stomach. It looked like a huge load, great puddles of it that ran in rivulets down his chest. It was so thick, like sour cream, it made Zion’s own jizz seem watery and pitiful. He had spurted a huge load, and a few drops continued plopping out one by one into Nelson’s crotch hair. “Lick my cum off me. I’m gonna make ya tongue so nasty you wanna cut it off.” He licked his lips, as he pulled Zion’s face over the puddles of jizz that coated his pectoral muscles.
Keeping a grip on Zion’s tongue while he rubbed it over his chest was difficult and awkward for Nelson because he was so much bigger than Zion. He had to scrunch in to make it work. But he didn’t let Zion control his own tongue — despite telling him to lick, Nelson didn’t allow it, he instead used Zion’s tongue like a rag to clean the cum off his chest.
The salty bitterness of cum cut through Zion’s pain and humiliation, making him sob all over again. Licking his chest reminded Zion how much stronger Nelson was than him. He felt like a warm marble statue. Zion didn’t want to caress his shoulder muscles like a girl being seduced, but his hands flailed and that’s what they did, embarrassing him even further.
“Now sit there. Look me in the eye.” Nelson pointed to a spot on the floor. “Don’t get up, don’t wipe your face off. You may swallow the nastiness on your tongue. If you spit, I will beat you. I wanna watch you swallow that. I wanna see it go down yo’ throat, cuz that’ll be you agreein’ to be my rimjob-bitch-slave. That’s yo’ willing agreement.” He held onto Zion’s throat with one of his massive hands.
Zion didn’t want to swallow. Every part of him rebelled against the concept.
But he knew Nelson wasn’t kidding about beating him if he spit, so he tried to hold the soup of filth in his mouth. Its creamy thickness sloshed around, viscous, and he imagined he could feel Nelson’s sperms swimming around on his gums and his tongue. That was ridiculous, right? You can’t feel sperm.
But it sure seemed like he could. He sobbed, and he felt the tears running down his cheeks. He felt that for sure. Just like he felt the sperm swimming, looking for something to impregnate on his tongue.
A moist sniffle came outta his nose, and Nelson looked down him like a pititful pile of dogshit. Zion wanted to come up with a plan, to gin up the courage to attack Nelson, or at least to call the police when he left. None of those options sounded optionable though. Nelson was a gangster, that was clear now, and looking back on it, maybe Zion should have always known that was true. It did seem weird that a man like that would marry his grandmother.
But old people were weird, Zion couldn’t understand why they did what they did.
And now it was too late anyway. He couldn’t go to the police, Nelson would punish him. All he could do was submit. He couldn’t avoid his instinct to swallow though, and he gagged violently as it went down his throat. He imagined he could feel Nelson’s sperm swimming in his belly.
Nelson spat on him again. “Don’t move from that spot. Don’t wipe ya face off, not until I walk out the door.”
He began to very slowly get dressed. His slacks were wrinkleless, perfectly flat — ironed, obviously — because he had folded them when he took them off. His shoes were fine leather too. Halfway through, as he pulled up his pants, he stopped, turned around and farted right in front of Zion’s face. The stench of spit-flavored fart hit Zion’s nostrils and he gagged. He wept continuously.
“If you do what I say, Zion boy, everything’ll be fine.” He went into Zion’s kitchen. “You got enough food in here to last a couple weeks. You tell me when you run out, I’ll give you more.”
Zion cried, sitting there. Nelson didn’t let him move yet, so he had to sit there with a mask of cum, spit and assjuice on his face. Nelson took some stuff out of his kitchen and placed it by the door. It was all the nice things, the meat from the freezer, a fancy bottle of olive oil, that kind of thing, plus a stack of fine china. He carefully arranged it all in a pile he could carry in one hand.
“I’m takin’ some of ya shit. You ain’t worth none of this, boy. Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna let ya starve to death. You know how to cook beans, right?”
“Yeah.” Zion croaked. He gurgled and gagged all over again. Nelson chuckled.
“Good. Beans is cheap, I gonna give you mostly beans and rice.” Nelson walked past where Zion sat. He undid his belt, plopped his plump asscheeks in front of Zion again and farted on his face. He wrinkled his nose. “You is one worthless piece of shit, man, you know that?”
“Yes.” Zion’s voice had never felt so weak and wavery. He felt nothing but submission towards this man, who’d ruined his life and even despite that, Zion was going to do everything he said. He was like a God to Zion.
“Did you like eatin’ my ass?” He paused, then, just as Zion was about to answer, he snapped, “Say yes, bitch, or I’ll throw you out the window.”
Zion hesitated. “Yes.” When Nelson motioned for him to stretch that out, he winced and moaned. Nelson slapped him. Zion cringed. “I… I enjoyed eating your ass.”
Nelson’s phone rang. He looked at it, and his mustache wriggled. “It’s one of my bitches.” He answered it. “Hey, baby. Yeah. I be ovuh later. Uh-huh. Yeah cook me up somethin’. That sounds good. I’s just doin’ a little work.” He chuckled. He glanced at Zion. “Ain’t that kinda work. You ain’t gotta lick my doodoo-hole tonight though, baby, on ‘ccount of what I’s doin’ at work.” He laughed. “Nah, it ain’t a girl. This nigga displeased me. Nah, don’t worry, my princess, you ain’t gotta be jealous. Oh yeah? Oh shit… Alright, alright.” He looked at Zion. “Go sit in the bathtub, nigga.”
Zion retched as he got up, but Nelson kicked him in the belly.
“Crawl! When you in fronta me, bitch, you crawl!” Nelson chuckled into the phone. “Yeah, he my slave. Yeah, sure. He come clean ya house e’ry weekend.” He licked his lips. “Damn, baby, you got a evil side. I like that.” He knocked Zion over with his foot, then kicked him in the belly until Zion gasped and cried out. He heard a cruel female voice laughing through the phone. “Get in there, bitch!”
Nelson allowed him to crawl on his hands and knees into the bathroom. Zion was too exhausted and scared to fight back, or even to think about what was going on.
“Yeah, baby. You can do whatever you want to him. I’m-a do it now, I gotta put the video on.” He started recording. He took his dick out through the fly of his pants. “Open up ya mouth, boy, and start singing ‘I’m a Little Teapot’.”
The girl laughed hysterically as Zion tried to sing through his tears, and the sound of her guffaws carried tinnily from the phone in Nelson’s hand. The melody of the song was interrupted by hot, bitter piss flowing over his face, so it ended up just being the sound of him choking to the tune of the woman’s laughter. Zion sobbed and gagged, his stomach twisting in knots when urine streamed down his throat.
He pissed so much there was a little puddle around Zion’s bare ass on the floor of the bathtub. He cried and cried as Nelson put his dick away.
“Uncle Nelson… Please-“
“You still callin’ me uncle?” Nelson gathered up everything else in the apartment that he wanted — or that he judged to be too nice for a slave to have. He got it all up in a couple boxes, which he carted out to his Mercedes one by one. Before he left, Nelson stood over Zion and glared down at him. That mask of filth was still on his face, and Zion trembled, unable to think about anything but his desperate desire to be free of it.
Without another word, Nelson pursed his lips, hocked up a massive loogey and spat it out onto Zion’s face. It splatted and covered him in stinking saliva from his forehead to his nose, and it coated his eyes too, so it was in everything he saw.
Then, at last, Nelson turned around and walked out the door. Zion was relieved to be able to clean his face off and cry, alone.

The Asian at the Barbershop

Kwan is a new barber at a black barbershop, and he’s in for a world of alpha male downlow interracial action! That’s cuz he works with some of the neighborhood’s mightiest, strongest and sexiest alpha male black men.

Can Kwan handle his toughest coworker, the legendary ex-con Ike Skelton?!

Read it now!

Mafia Punishment

Tedi is an effeminate twink who never thought the Mafia would come to him to help dole out punishment. But when one of the Caprinelli family’s enforcers is proven to have snitched, Tedi is all too eager to get down and dirty teaching that uomo a lesson!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

The wedding was a nerve-wracking affair, even for Tedi, and it wasn’t even his wedding. He was a long-time friend of the family, but the family in question was the family — the Cavollos. They were the most powerful Mafia clan in New Jersey. The Cavollos themselves had never acknowledged it, except for Sonny, and he only obliquely referred to it on a few occasions when he was drunk.
Tedi had grown up as Sonny’s best friend, and stayed with him in college and ever since. They had drifted apart only slightly as they each developed an independent life. But when Sonny got married, there was no one to be best man and compare d’anello except for Tedi.
The wedding was held in St. Michael’s Cathedral on Staten Island. It was a beautiful affair, and everything went exactly according to plan — with one exception: a groomsmen who was missing.
There were five groomsmen (il testimoni) who had come to the wedding rehearsal. They weren’t exactly friends of Sonny’s, but they were closest thing Sonny had to a friend besides Tedi — made mafia men simply didn’t have close friends. Tedi was an exception because he had been friends with Sonny for a long time, he was not in the mafia or otherwise involved in any kind of crime, and he was small, delicate and weak. Nobody treated him like a serious rival.
The five groomsmen were Francesco Lancinelli, Frankie di Pietro, Joey Rizzoli, Baldo Bianchi and Demetrio Collera.
Tedi enjoyed jerking them off once, along with the groom himself, during the bachelor party — they had sworn an oath to god not to fuck any stripper or whore. So they let Tedi jerk them off while a stripper ground her feminine wiles on their bodies. That had been a good night for Tedi, even if it ended with an argument (apparently there was a leak in their organization, and Francesco disagreed on who it likely was).
It was Francesco who had disappeared before the wedding.
The weirdest thing about that was that no one mentioned it. Tedi’s nervous mind noticed it just before the wedding began — he counted only four groomsmen. But he assumed the fifth was around somewhere, and he was so anxious about the ceremony that he couldn’t even focus enough to figure out who was missing.
Once the I dos were said, Tedi stood there in his lavender suit, just a few feet from the four burly Mafioso. He realized it was Francesco who was missing.
Francesco Lancinelli was the biggest, the least handsome and the toughest of the five groomsmen, and he had the most massive cock. Tedi loved jerking him off. He had a crude caveman-like face, with rough-hewn jawlines and perpetually stubbled chin, his beard hair always uneven due to a network of scars crisscrossing his neck and face. He had the kind of domineering personality and massive muscles that repelled women. Tedi felt sorry for him, but was also hopeful that he’d come calling to Tedi to ask for more dome in the future.
But now where was he? And why had no one noticed? His name was even listed in the program for the wedding, but no one remarked on his absence. It was only as the reception began that the horrifying thought he could be dead assaulted Tedi’s mind. Was that possible?
No, of course not. The Mafia was a lot of things, but they were not clinical and detached. If a groomsman had died between the wedding rehearsal and the wedding, it would have been announced; they would have mourned him at the start of the wedding; Sonny would have worn a black armband or something like that. They wouldn’t just proceed with the wedding like nothing had happened.
“Hey, Tedi, come on,” Sonny said once he had finished his traditional dance with his new wife. His voice sounded distant even though he was right next to Tedi. He had to scream to be heard over the crowd. He grabbed Tedi by the arm and pulled him away.
“Where are we going?” Tedi asked, but his weak voice was lost in the din.
He followed Sonny, whose body shuffled thickly — he had been putting on weight since he got engaged — in his tight tuxedo, which was plainly uncomfortable for him. He had loosened his tie, which hung around his neck. Much to Tedi’s surprise, he led Tedi out of the church and into the Italian-American community center next door.
Then he breathed a sigh of relief that he was away from the crowd. Sonny stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. He leaned against the wall. The bulge in his pants suggested he was going to ask Tedi for dome — that was probably why he had left the church, Tedi decided, to get do it somewhere other than sacred ground.
But why did he want dome just hours before he’d be able to be with his wife in lawfully-wedded bliss? Was he really that horny? Maybe it was the stress, Tedi decided. He grabbed the bulge and smiled at Sonny. Tedi had long been jerking his friend off.
“No,” Sonny said. “That ain’t what I brought ya here fo’, man.”
“Oh?”
Sonny shook his head. He gulped nervously. “Come on.” He opened the door to a deep storage closet, piled high with boxes and athletic equipment. There was a crowd of men in tuxedos. Since they all wore the same clothes and had the same slicked-back black hair, Tedi didn’t quite recognize them right away in the dim light of the closet.
Then he saw that they were the four groomsmen. Frankie, Joey, Baldo and Demetrio all stood there, clustered around another tuxedo-clad man who was slumped over a chair sideways, so the arms of the rickety wooden chair supported his belly and chest.
After a few seconds, Tedi realized that the man who was slumped over was fully conscious, that he was Francesco and that he was tied up and gagged. His hair was slicked back like all the others, but his tuxedo was ruffled, torn in a few spots, and he had a fresh black eye.
“Hey, guys. What’s going on? What happened to Francesco? Is he okay?”
“No, he ain’t,” Sonny said with a chuckle. He stepped forward, pushing past Tedi in the tiny closet. He slapped Francesco on the ass through his tuxedo pants. “Francesco… He fucked up, Tedi. He’s the snitch. He’s been leakin’ like an old man’s dick.”
“What?”
Sonny laughed cockily. “I ain’t know a simpler way to say that, Tedi. He’s a snitch. He’s a person who snitches. He has snitched. You want me to translate into Italian?”
“Oh, I mean… Oh…” Tedi didn’t know what he was supposed to say. Sonny never really discussed Mafia business. He sometimes talked about the “import/export” business in ways that made it clear what he was really talking about, but he was rarely so blatant and open about it.
“We’re gonna punish him. We would do it ourselves, but…” Sonny said with a dry chuckle. “We ain’t want to. It’s my wedding day. My giorno sacro…”
“And I think it’s gross,” Joey said. He was the handsome one, the one who always had a girl hanging off his arm. He had deep dimples and smooth skin. “Francesco here is hairy come un barbaro, and if you think I’m shaving his ass, you got another thing coming.”
“Wait, so… You want me to…?” Tedi’s heart started pounding as he realized they wanted him to ram Francesco.
As if he had only just figured it out as well, Francesco squealed through the gag in his mouth. His muscles struggled against the bindings keeping him on the chair, and he fought so hard the chair itself nearly fell over. Sonny and the others laughed.
“So, how about it, Tedi?” Sonny asked. “You wanna wreck this snitchin’ rat?”
“Uh… Well… fuck, yeah!” Tedi said. He blushed as they all cheered. Francesco bleated, screaming profanity the best he could with what appeared to be underwear shoved in his mouth.
Sonny removed a pocketknife from his tuxedo slacks. For a moment, it looked like he was going to stab Francesco in the asshole. But he just sliced through the man’s pants, leaving a shadowy hole in front of his ass.
That wasn’t enough for Tedi. He liked ass, and he wanted to see it. He pulled on either end of the tear in the slacks, trying to rip the entire bottom off. But he blushed — the fabric was too tough, and Tedi was too weak. He strained for a minute or two before Baldo, the strongest one here aside from Francesco himself, grabbed the fabric from him. He ripped the entire ass of the slacks off.
Francesco had a beautifully thick ass, brimming with plump muscle and coarse black hairs. There was a big splat of scar tissue, vaguely circular or spiral-shaped, but distended by time, on his right asscheek.
“You want him to swallow your cum too?” Sonny asked. “Or are you just gonna go straight for the ramrodding?”
Tedi shrugged. “I… I mean, won’t he just bite down?”
“We got a plan for that,” he said. “He won’t bite.”
A part of Tedi didn’t feel confident in that. But he rarely got the chance to ram a man in the ass, especially not a big hairy macho like Francesco.
“I, uh… I just want his ass, honestly. I’d love to see him swallow some dick though. Would you guys ram his throat?”
They all looked around like no one wanted to do it but no one wanted to say no. Tedi blushed. Francesco heaved and screamed the best he could through his gag.
Demetrio laughed. “Ain’t you required to give yo’ friends favors on your wedding day, Sonny?” They all laughed along with him.
Sonny shook his head even as he said yes. “We, uh… Yeah. I guess we might as well. We’re gonna ram you in the throat, you little snitchin’ bitch.” Francesco struggled against the gag in his mouth, which Sonny pulled off. Francesco gasped for air, but Sonny spat on his face and barked for him to be silent. “I’m gonna give you a choice for how this ends, motherfucker. You can jerk us off and take it from Tedi, do everything he says, no matter how gross. You got that? Repeat it for me, Francesco, so I know you understand.”
“Sonny, I ain’t sellin’ secrets to the Caprinelli family-“
“You shut up! We found that book in your house, Francesco. We saw it. We got records from Tranquillo Caprinelli. We got a mole too, rat, and I ain’t tell you word one about it.”
“Sonny-“
“You know how I told you we was gonna hit the Caprinelli house on Saturday?” Sonny asked. “Well, they was waiting there with guns ready. They knew we was coming. Only we wasn’t coming, Francesco. We wasn’t coming at all. I told Demetrio we was doing it on Friday. I told Joey on Tuesday. Baldovino on Thursday, and Francesco the Saturday before that. But we ain’t hit them any day. I just waited to see when they thought we was coming. That was yo’ day, Francesco. What made them think we was gonna hit them on Saturday?”
“Sonny… We used to be friends…”
“Huh? You was gonna let me walk into a trap, motherfucker. They was gonna blow my brains out,” Sonny said. “So don’t you talk to me about friendship, or loyalty. Sputo sul vostro onore!” Sonny spat on his face again, and the others joined in. Tedi enjoyed watching Francesco’s moist, craggy face scrunch up and beg; he wrinkled his nose at the saliva dripping from his cheeks. His muscles were tense — at the moment, Tedi couldn’t have stuck anything in Francesco’s ass, which was shut tight with terror. But he wasn’t trying to. He caressed those plump cheeks and fingered the rim of his puckering asshole.
“Now I was tryin’ to explain your two options befo’ you in’rrupted me, Francesco,” Sonny said. “I’m gonna let you choose. Option One begins with you taking it in the ass from Tedi — and you better thank yo’ hairy culo di una scimmia that the rest of us won’t touch it, cuz that’s nasty — and jerking on dicks. You gonna swallow a mountain of cum. You ain’t nevuh gonna be a real man ever again, you’ll be a frocio zoccola. And then I’ll buy you a bus ticket to Las Vegas. You can sell your body or whatever, just drink yourself to death there. I don’t care what you do. That’s Option One, Francesco, questo è Opzione Uno. Can you tell me that in yo’ own words so I know you unn’erstand it?”
Sonny often spoke like this to the men under his command. Tedi didn’t usually get to witness it, but he knew it — Sonny wanted to make sure the pig-headed brutes who worked for him understood their mission, so he always made them put it in their own words. Sonny was arrogant and patronizing, so Tedi wasn’t surprised that most of the men who worked for him hated him.
“Sonny…” Francesco hung his head over the side of the chair. Sonny slapped him. Francesco sputtered. “I… I can… submit, and uh, let yo’ friend cornhole me. And jerk all you off. That’s Option One. You’ll let me go to Las Vegas afterwards.”
“You make it sound like a vacation. It’s more of an exile,” Sonny said. “But you’ll be alive. Opzione Due is less pleasant, but more final. Tedi here is gonna cornhole you hard. I just might order Joey to do it too, even if he don’t want to-” Sonny said with a laugh suggesting that wasn’t serious — Joey’s eyes opened wide and he turned slightly greenish; he was a handsome, cleanliness-oriented and organized man, deeply religious but with a bevy of loose women following him around every night, so he was the last one who would likely deign to ram Francesco’s hairy asshole. Sonny smacked Francesco’s ass, which quivered and twitched.
It also opened up. Since Tedi’s finger was waiting there at the entrance, he slipped it in. It was just his pinkie for the moment, and just down to the first knuckle. But Francesco’s face turned bright red and he let out an agonized roar. His muscles flexed against the ropes tying him to the chair. His asshole clenched on Tedi’s finger.
“You got a finger in che culo, paisano?”
“Yeah, Sonny. Just one finger for now,” Tedi said.
“Option Two, Francesco, has got one major benefit. We ain’t gonna plow you in the mouth if you ain’t gonna swear you won’t bite down. So you won’t have to swallow any Italian dicks,” Sonny said. “But we is gonna sell yo’ ass to the Bloods.” He cackled as Francesco squirmed and struggled against his bindings. He slapped Francesco’s face. “And you know what those moolies are gonna do… They gonna plow you with big black dicks. They gonna let some crackheads plow you, just to watch you squirm and collect diseases. They hate Italians, and they hate disloyal rats, so you is gonna wish you was dead. Then you will be dead. They’ll just toss you in the ghetto with black cum all over your face, maybe a crack pipe in your ass. They’ll make sure the cops put it in the papers that you was just a hobo killed by the moolie hobos you was jerkin’ off for pennies. Yo’ mama gonna curse yer name, Francesco.”
“Sonny-!”
“You can choose now, Francesco,” Sonny said. “Which one is it gonna be?”
Francesco let out a sob, then bit his lip. As he acknowledged his submission and finally gave up the struggle, knowing how this would turn out, his ass unclenched long enough for Tedi to get a second finger in there. Francesco yelped like a puppy in pain.
This time, Tedi didn’t just stick his fingers in to the first knuckle and stopped. He seriously fingered Francesco, ramming his fingers in until he felt resistance, and then just a little bit farther. He liked watching every muscle on Francesco’s body shake and tremble with each thrust of Tedi’s fingers.
“I’ll… take Option One,” Francesco said. “I swear… I’ll do it. I’ll jerk you off.”
“You swear an oath on yo mama’s name?”
“Yes. I swear… on my mother’s name,” Francesco said. “I’ll jerk you all off. I won’t bite down. Just… let me go. Let me move to Vegas.”
“You fuckin’ pansy,” Sonny said.
They all took their dicks out. A part of Tedi wished he’d get to jerk them all off, but he would rather ram Francesco. He had to move a box off the shelf to use as a stool in order to get his crotch lined up with Francesco’s ass. As he did, the other five jabbed their limp dicks into Francesco’s mouth, one after another.
Francesco gagged and retched so loudly Tedi wondered if it was audible outside this closet. He choked, sputtering as he spat onto the ground. Each of them had thick, long uncut cocks, which they seemed to have trouble getting hard at first.
They flopped their dicks against his face, like kids who had never gotten dome. But as they took turns forcing their dicks down his spasming throat, jousting nervously atop his face, they became more and more confident, and they egged each other on.
La bocca è la mia figa!
Tedi had no such difficulty, his dick was already hard even though he hadn’t touched it yet. He rammed his two fingers in and out of Francesco’s ass, while his free hand stroked the writhing muscles of his back through his tuxedo. Then he rammed a third finger in, ignoring the resistance he felt.
A ear-piercing scream rang out, and Francesco’s body burst out with sweat all at once. Tedi laughed along with the other mafioso, who looked away as their dicks got hard. They had all gangbanged whores before, and they all knew they had each let Tedi jerk them off, but they had never had their dicks out like this, with each other and without a woman in the room.
With Francesco bent awkwardly over the plain wooden chair — which loudly rocked as he struggled — Tedi had to climb on top of him to really get his dick in. He pulled his three fingers out and plunged in, his toes gripping the side of the chair as he crouched over Francesco’s bare ass.
The position was awkward for Tedi (and, of course, Francesco), but that didn’t detract from the arousal he felt. He even used Baldo’s shaved head for support as Baldo waited for his turn on Francesco’s mouth.
Costringerlo a soffocare, Baldo!
Tedi shuddered as intense pleasure rolled through him. The curly black hairs of Francesco’s ass were a tangle he had to push through, and he felt a few hairs rip out as he went. That must have sent another layer of pain through Francesco’s body which rippled as he struggled.
Frankie was a heavily tattooed thug, who normally wore his pants slung low and a backwards baseball cap, speaking in a black accent. He was Italian but he didn’t always act that way, which was something the others made fun of him for. But now he spoke Italian as he violently throated Francesco. It was he who came first, pistoning his dick deep into Francesco’s throat and laughing when he choked up copious spit and bile onto the closet floor.
Take it bitch, you fuckin’ snitch! Choke on that shit! Here, open that mouth up so I can spit in it some more…
The smell of cum filled the air before Tedi realized Frankie was actually finishing. Then he saw the pearly white stuff dripping from Francesco’s mouth, collecting in a puddle on the floor. Some of it splashed on Joey’s fine dress shoes, which he made Francesco lick clean. Frankie sighed breathed heavily, wiping his cummy cockshaft off on Francesco’s face.
“Lick that nut off my shoes, bitch,” Joey said. He smiled as Francesco gagged but did as he was told. His tongue haltingly caressed the expensive Italian leather shoes Joey wore, and he managed, with great difficulty, to force himself to lick the entirety of both shoes.
Mi permetta di usare quella gola, paisano!
As the others continued taking turns on Francesco’s throat, Tedi borrowed the knife from Sonny. He wanted to see Francesco’s bare muscular back, so he sliced through the tuxedo jacket, shirt and the dingy wifebeater he wore underneath.
“You couldn’t even put on a clean t-shirt for my wedding?” Sonny asked when he saw the undershirt. “You worthless sac of shit!” He slapped Francesco’s spit and cum-covered face, uncaring of the fact that he got his friends’ fluids on his hands. He just wiped his fingers off on Francesco’s face.
The more violently they went after Francesco’s throat, the more Francesco choked, the more they made each other laugh and the more comfortable they got shoving their dicks against each other. They tried to make him jerk all five dicks at one — which was obviously impossible, but they tried, ignoring the semeny residue that smeared between all five cocks.
Sonny was the one who rammed Francesco’s mouth most delicately. He didn’t want to get stains on his nice slacks, so he angled his body away the best he could. He gripped Francesco’s hair as he reached his own orgasm.
Tedi’s fingers massaged Francesco’s broad shoulder muscles. He had a Jesus tattoo over his left shoulder and an Italian flag beneath that. Tedi kissed them both as he pounded his dick into Francesco’s ass. The size difference between them meant that Tedi had to really hold on tight or slip off, especially as Francesco became so sweaty his back and ass were slippery. Tedi clutched and clawed at his beefy back.
When he shot his load, Sonny held onto Francesco by the ear. He slammed his dick in and out quickly, laughing as Francesco choked on each thrust. His choking turned into loud retching when Sonny shot a load right down his throat.
Assaggiare il mio sperma! Does it taste like yo’ mama’s pussy?
Tedi’s own orgasm was coming quickly, but he wanted to wait until the others were done. He loved watching their potent muscles ripple beneath their tuxedos, sweat beading on their tense faces as their orgasms rolled over their bodies. He could sense their nervous anxiety — none of them had ever cum like this; they all talked about how they would take a bitch if they were in prison, that had come up during the bachelor party, but this was the first time they actually had to perform without women around. Tedi could tell they were glad they hadn’t been impotent or small-cocked or unable to cum. He slowed down his gyrations, burying his face in Francesco’s back muscles as he flexed his hips, grinding so he hit the sensitive sides of Francesco’s asshole.
Then came Joey, who as usual was too squeamish to really get in there like the others — he hated filth and seemed to very much want to back out. He grumbled, jacking himself off. His face turned red when he finally came, and he stepped forward at just the last moment to spray his load right onto Francesco’s quivering tongue.
Questo è sporco…
Tedi watched as Francesco squealed loudly, his whole body palpably rejected the snotty cumload on his tongue. He sputtered and spat, but most of it clung to his mouth. Before he even could spit or swallow, Baldo pushed his dickhead in.
Baldo had a shaved head. He was short, but thick-bodied, built like a bull, complete with a squashed nose and cauliflower ears, both remnants from his former career as a boxer. Though his head was bald, he was the hairiest one there, and his chest hair poked out from under his tuxedo.
He didn’t seem to care about the cum still stuck to Francesco’s tongue and lips. Baldo plunged his dick in there, watching as his buddies’ cum stuck to the shaft. Baldo smiled and let out a low growl that made the hair on Tedi’s neck stand on edge. He felt Francesco’s asshole clench too, in that moment. It was a menacing growl, Baldo being the only one of the five who really seemed to enjoy Francesco’s mouth.
Tu sei il mio sperma grondaia…
That only left Demetrio, who was nearly done as Baldo pulled away. But first Demetrio made Francesco swallow all the cum in his mouth. He opened his mouth to show its emptiness to Demetrio, who cackled as he shoved his spasming dick in.
Mi permetta di vedere la tua bocca vuota, voglio vedere voi ingoiare tutto!
Francesco’s ass clenched again when Demetrio’s dick spewed cum down his throat. Francesco sputtered, his face turning brighter red as lack of oxygen joined the humiliation that already ruddened his features. His asshole remained clenched tightly as all five guys flopped their limp dicks on his face, making him smell their balls and lick the remnants of cum from their piss-slits.
It was the sight of that that sent Tedi over the edge. He lay atop Francesco’s sweat-covered body, clutching his muscles, his hair and the remnants of his tuxedo. He flexed his hips over and over, rejoicing in the tightness of Francesco’s ass, which he knew he was wrecking — if Francesco had relaxed his asshole, it would have hurt less, but Tedi knew from experience that his involuntary clenching made the pain worse, made the ache last for days afterward and ruined his sphincter. Francesco was always going to feel like a loose slut if anyone ever touched his asshole again.
Francesco sobbed, begging his former friends to believe his innocence, though he didn’t sound totally credible — even Tedi, who didn’t really know what was happening, thought he sounded like he knew he was caught. Tedi sighed, nibbling on the Italian flag tattoo over Francesco’s back, as his orgasm rocketed up his spine. It was an incredible climax, and it made Tedi shake back and forth like he was having a seizure. He grunted, losing his twinky delicacy.
He jabbed his dick in and held it there while the first wads of cum sprayed inside Francesco, who screamed and squirmed. There was a loud shattering sound, and then pain erupted in Tedi.
He was on the ground. It all happened so fast that Tedi had no idea what was going on at first. He lay there as he drained his nuts into Francesco’s straining ass, and Tedi realized that the chair had broken — Francesco was strong enough he had pulled hard and shattered the wooden legs of the chair.
When he fell, Francesco’s arms were beneath his chest, and his limbs were still tied to each other. So all he could do was writhe painfully on the rubble, while Tedi clung to his back and filled him up with his seed. He nibbled on Francesco’s back flesh.
Damn, Tedi, ti sei scopato lui così forte che lo ha rotto!
He lay there, enjoying the undulations of Francesco’s muscles and the clenching of his ass as Tedi’s dick grew limp inside him. Francesco roared his frustration anew, as though he thought he should be able to escape now that he had broken the chair. But he was still tied up, and now he was in pain because had fallen as well as because he had a dick in his ass.
His asshole quivered when Tedi finally pulled out. The others tucked their dicks away in their tuxedo pants, and Sonny lightly smacked Francesco on the cheeks. Francesco blubbered an apology — he wasn’t making clear words, but it sounded like he was finally admitting he was guilty.
“Thank you for being honest, finally,” Sonny said. He put the nasty old pair of briefs back in Francesco’s mouth, leaving him there on the floor with a bare ass and back, his body and mouth covered in cum. “We’re gonna go finish out this reception. I gotta see my beautiful bride. There’s a bus to Las Vegas at midnight. These guys’ll make sure you’re on it, Francesco,” Sonny said. He spat another big ball of spit onto Francesco’s face. “If we ever see you in New York again, I’ll wreck you myself, hairy ass or no, and then I let the blacks kill you. Got it?”
“Yes, Sonny.”
“Thank me for letting you do all this instead of just killing you, which is what my father wanted, by the way,” Sonny said.
“Thank you, Sonny,” Francesco said through his tears. His massive muscles were loose and slack now, like he had lost his manhood and could no longer use his strength.
“You’re welcome, rat,” Sonny said.
Tedi let out a cruel smile and a feminine giggle. “Sonny… is it okay if I stay here with him? I’ll… take care of his ass. I promise I won’t untie him.”
Sonny had a disgusted sneer on his face, but he nodded. “Yeah, sure. Do whatever you want with him. Frankie, you stay outside the closet to make sure Francesco doesn’t get away. The rest of you, come with me. We got a reception to finish.”
And they all walked out the door, leaving Tedi alone with a quivering pile of muscle.