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.

Humping the Enforcer

Avery has to pay protection money to the mafia, but when the don comes by too, Avery is given a gift that just won’t stop giving! He gets to do what he wants to the crude enforcer Joey, who has muscles and swagger and not a lot of brains.

The don is frustrated by Joey’s idiocy, which gives Avery a chance to explore another episode in the world of Twink on Top!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

When Avery Flowers saw Joey at the door of his shop, he felt the usual surge of feelings: fear, annoyance, rage and a dash of arousal, since Joey had an alluring and arousing physique.
But this time, the mafia enforcer Joey Rizzoli was accompanied by a stout older man in a fine suit.
That older man kept a faint grin, and he stopped to look at the flowers on the counter. Joey, as usual, stone-faced, sturdy as a chair. He looked vaguely displeased at everything, even the flowers that filled the store.
Avery sighed. Running a florist shop in Little Italy in New York meant he had to pay protection money to the Mafia. He had been doing it since before the shop even opened. Today was the fourth of the month, making it Joey Rizzoli’s regular day to collect a payment.
The money was in an envelope hidden in the register. Avery made sure to put it there this morning. He liked to tease Joey, who was gruff, mean and macho, riddled with muscle and bravado. He had a temper and a cocky attitude, but he was barred by Mafia rules from hurting anyone who paid proper protection money. That meant Avery could flirt with him, squeeze his biceps, repeatedly ask him out on a date as if Joey was a slutty woman, and Joey just accepted it like an awkward statue made of frowns. He occasionally growled and flexed his pecs beneath the ill-fitting suit he always wore.
But Avery had no idea who the portly older man was at first. That changed when the man took off his hat and spoke — this is the Don! Don Caprinelli! Avery gasped and bit his own lip.
“Good afternoon, Mister Flowers,” the stout man said. “My name is Tranquillo Caprinelli.”
“Yo, you should address him as Don Caprinelli,” Joey cut in, barking at Avery as though he had been disrespectful already.
Don Caprinelli held a hand up to silence Joey, whose crude yet handsome face scrunched up. The Italian flag tattoo on his neck stretched when he tightened his visage. He wrinkled his nose at Avery, and his broad shoulders expanded as he took a deep breath. From their body language, Avery gathered that the Don often told Joey to take a deep breath and calm down and that Joey was annoyed every time he said it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Don Caprinelli,” Avery said. He bowed his head respectfully.
“My daughter’s wedding is this month, Mister Flowers,” he said in a smooth voice like melted caramel, “And in recognition of that joyous day, I am asking that you spend the money you would normally pay for Caprinelli security services. Spend it on yourself or on the charity of your choosing, and have a joyous month.” He smiled.
“Oh! Okay, thank you, Don Caprinelli-“
“Do not mention it, and as always, you and your beautiful shop here remain under my protection for the entire month. And the usual perks at the Hotel Sweet,” he said with a smile. He shook Avery’s hand.
“Oh… thank, you, that’s… the Hotel Sweet?” Avery had no idea what that meant. The Hotel Sweet was a rundown motel down the street. It was known as a hotbed of prostitution.
“He doesn’t… Don, he, uh… has never been interested,” Joey said. He stammered like he had done something wrong, and when Don Caprinelli shot him a quizzical look, he looked down and bit his lip.
Don Caprinelli turned to Avery, looked at him with shock in his eyes, then examined him head to toe. He nodded in realization.
“Yeah, sorry,” Avery said. “I’m not into anything down at the Hotel Sweet… Unless Joey ever hangs out there.” He smirked as Joey, who, predictably, blushed. His glowering face looked down at his feet, then glanced at the flowers as though he was suddenly very interested in petunias.
“He does not spend time at the Hotel Sweet…” Don Caprinelli smiled, then spoke quickly with Joey in Italian. Joey let out a laugh as they talked — the first time he had laughed in all the time Avery knew him. Their conversation sounded like a negotiation to Avery. Joey continued to laugh, nervously, with many cautious glances towards Avery. He kissed the crucifix around his neck. Don Caprinelli’s Italian was fluid and rhythmic, while Joey’s was halting and sounded like mispronounced English.
“Ten minutes,” Joey said softly — another first: the first time he ever sounded less than totally confident. He had been collecting extortion money from Avery for years and never showed any hesitance or uncertainty about what to do.
“What-?”
“I have worked out a deal. I give all the businessmen who pay me a free weekly visit to one of the ladies at the Hotel Sweet. Since Joey failed to offer you anything as a substitute for that perk, he has agreed to give you ten minutes with him. You may do anything you wish to Joey for ten minutes,” Don Caprinelli said.
Joey spoke with that thick New York-Italian stawk that had always turned Avery on so good. “No stickin’ it in.” He looked down at his feet yet again when Don Caprinelli clucked his tongue and shot him a harsh look.
“Uh… what?”
“You can… like… gimme a handjob, or whatever. No penetration,” he said. He sniffed and pushed past Avery into the backroom, Avery’s office. Joey’s heavy body barely fit in the doorway, and Avery felt a surge of body heat and intense desire as Joey’s suited muscles brushed past him. Joey called back to Don Caprinelli, saying something in Italian.
Don Caprinelli chuckled. “He is afraid you will hold him down and cornhole him-“
“That ain’t what I said!”
“I tell him you are three times the boy’s size, Joey, you can overpower him if he tries to cornhole you,” Don Caprinelli said. He smiled and followed into the backroom. “I will not watch, but I will stand at the doorway.”
Avery turned to enter the office, still trying to comprehend what, exactly, was happening, Was Joey really letting him give a handjob? Joey stood there in front of him, scowling, with his arms across his chest. He filled out that suit nicely; it looked even better on him than a nicer suit would have, Avery thought, the undersized shirt and oversized jacket making him look like the world’s meanest high-schooler getting ready for an away game.
“No poop or pee neither,” Joey said. “And no putting cigarettes out on me. And no farting.” He threw his hands in the air. “No puttin’ it in!”
“In where? By whom?”
“Any hole. Anyone, man,” Joey said. “Just gimme a handjob or whatever.”
“Oh, I think I can get more creative than that,” Avery said. He smiled as Don Caprinelli chuckled behind him. He quickly stripped off his clothes.
Joey snickered at Avery’s small body, pale skin and weak muscles. “How old are you, man?”
“I’m twenty-four.”
“You look like you’re about twelve. Gonna feel like I’m lettin’ a little boy grope me up,” he said.
“You’re exaggerating, I don’t even get carded for cigarettes. I just have a youthful, girlish glow,” Avery said. His dick was out, and he tried not to feel self-conscious — not about his cock size, which was ample, just that he was so much smaller than Joey.
Joey didn’t look like he bought into Avery’s defense. He faced away as Avery unbuttoned his shirt. It was cute to see Joey nervous for the first time after he had been extorting money from Avery for years. Avery slowly stripped off Joey’s suit and suit.
He kissed his nipples beneath the tight a-shirt he wore. Joey’s pecs rippled, sending a thrill up Avery’s spine. His hands roamed over Joey’s muscled side, which made Joey twitch out of either anxiety or ticklishness or a bit of both.
Then Avery pulled the t-shirt off Joey’s body — or he lifted it up, anyway, Joey was too tall for Avery to actually take it all the way off. Joey removed it himself. He had a broad chest and a nearly flat belly, with just a hint of meat there. Avery’s mouth moved down to that belly, licking the trail of black hairs there leading down past his belly button.
He undid the belt holding up Joey’s slacks. Joey let out a strange sort of mewling sound as Avery dropped his pants, then pulled down the plain tight white boxers he wore.
His massive cock sprung forth. Avery gasped and smiled at Joey’s cocky grin. He must have liked showing off his big dick.
Don Caprinelli clucked his tongue. “You like his monster, huh? That’s the difference between ‘fairy’ men and girls. Girls run screaming from it-“
“No, they don’t, Don, that happened one time,” Joey said with a hangdog look. “One girl walked away because she said it was too big.”
Avery stroked his shaft, slowly at first, as Joey spoke. Then he sped up, as Joey’s face went from annoyed to surprised at how aroused he was. He looked down at his dick as though he had never seen it get hard before. Its long shaft throbbed beneath Avery’s grasp.
“And Anita?” Don Caprinelli said, snickering from the doorway, where he remained, still facing away from the scene.
“She didn’t see it-“
“She saw you. She said he looks like a caveman. I bring him a girl to bed, as a present for his years of loyal service, and he acts like a goon-“
“Don Caprinelli…” Joey’s voice turned into a moan as his dick pulsated in Avery’s hand.
“Shut up, you embarrassed me. The sissy probably understands girls. Maybe he can help you avoid the same fate if I ever bring you another girl,” Don Caprinelli said.
Avery smiled, stroking Joey faster and faster. Joey’s muscles rippled and he closed his eyes like he was ready to cum. Avery wasn’t ready to let that happen, but he liked seeing Joey prepare for it. He chewed on his lower lip, and his biceps flexed as he flailed his arms, too embarrassed to touch either Avery or himself at the moment.
“I’m no expert in women. They’re mystifying to me too,” Avery said, hands working hard at Joey’s cock. “Virtually any girl could dress like a slut and get all the big hairy macho men to bang them, but almost none of them do that. That doesn’t make any sense to me. If I was a girl, I’d be such a cheap lay. I’d suck your dick every day, Joey, I’d let you and all your buddies demolish me.”
Joey chuckled dryly, like he wanted to laugh harder but was too distracted by his dick leaking precum into Avery’s hand. Don Caprinelli guffawed from the doorway, laughing so hard he bent over and slapped his own thigh.
He let go of Joey’s cock. Joey’s eyes bugged out, and he flexed his hips, humping the air. His muscles twitched again, and he let out an involuntary growl. It seemed he wanted Avery to continue jacking him off, but he didn’t want to admit that because Don Caprinelli would hear him.
Avery walked around Joey, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw his ass. It was thick and plump, but firmer than Avery thought possible. Joey was tall enough that Avery had to reach up to massage those round cheeks, which were as hard as overinflated volleyballs — it was clear that Joey was tense, which was part of the reason his flesh was hard, but it was also clear that Joey’s ass was simply bursting with strength.
“Will you bend over?” Avery asked.
“You can’t put nothin’ in my ass!”
“I won’t,” Avery said. He lightly caressed the strapping muscles of Joey’s back. He felt Joey sigh through his spine, then Joey bent over and grabbed his ankles.
That position forced his asscheeks to separate, revealing his hairy hole. But as much as Avery wanted to stick his fingers and tongue (and everything else) in there, it was clear Joey wouldn’t cotton to that. So Avery just massaged the hairy crack of Joey’s ass, then had him bend his knees until he was crouched.
Avery hadn’t really known where he was taking this until he saw Joey in that position, his great, hairy trunk-like thighs pressed close together. Avery stripped off his own clothes while both Joey and Don Caprinelli were facing away from him.
Then he lined up behind Joey’s crouching body. Joey winced and trembled when he felt Avery’s cock pushing into his back, but Avery made sure to wrap his fingers around Joey’s cock first. Joey sighed and forced his muscles to relax as his dick re-hardened beneath Avery’s grasp.
“Damn, fairy… what is this?” He asked.
Avery didn’t answer. He pushed his dick lower still, through the tangle of coarse black hairs on Joey’s thighs. Joey didn’t even seem to notice as Avery’s dick slipped between his legs and poked out below his crotch.
Since Joey was crouched over but was much taller than Avery, the simplest position was for Avery to kneel behind him. He wrapped his arms around Joey’s broad body, his left hand straining to reach Joey’s nipples while his right stroked Joey off.
“Uh, oh…” Joey realized Avery’s dick was between his thighs. He cleared his throat. “Don Caprinelli… Is it… a sin if you… If uh, his… dick is uh, not in me, but…-“
“Then no, Joey, please spare me the details. Don’t let him put it in a hole. That is what the Church teaches,” Don Caprinelli said. He kept his face angled well away. “Is the little fairy hurting you?”
“No!” Joey said.
“Then it is fine. You can stop him if you wish. I would give you a girl instead, but you would only scare her away,” Don Caprinelli said. “You should develop some culture and sophistication, Joey.”
Joey hung his head and sighed. It was obvious he had heard this lecture many times before. “Yes, Don.”
“I brought him to the symphony, Mister Flowers,” Don Caprinelli said. “He fell asleep. I pay for his tuxedo and for a girl to sit next to him, and he falls asleep. He snores so loud the oboist dropped his instrument in the third movement-“
Avery snorted and held back laughter.
“He tells the girl he prefers hot air balloons-“
“I like Led Zeppelin!”
“I tell you, he is a caveman. I have never been more mortified, Mister Flowers,” Don Caprinelli said. He still faced the other way in the door threshold, so he didn’t see Avery dry-humping Joey’s thighs.
Avery thought it was a funny story, but the funniest aspect was how embarrassed Joey was. He had always looked uncomfortable in the suit he wore to extort Avery, but now it was obvious how humiliated he was by his lack of class. Joey’s face burned a bright red, and his thighs tensed, squeezing Avery’s cock.
The increase in tightness sent a shiver of sexual pleasure up Avery’s spine. He began humping harder and faster, and he reached around to Joey’s long cock with both hands.
“It smells like a brothel in there,” Don Caprinelli said. He wrinkled his nose. “It smells like Hotel Sweet.”
But Avery was too aroused to answer, and Joey was either too tense, too horny or too embarrassed. He grunted, nostrils flaring as his ass puckered, its iron-hard globes pressed against the smooth, slim flesh of Avery’s torso.
Joey slowly leaned forward. It didn’t seem he was really aware he was doing it, at least not until he was on his belly, where Avery couldn’t jack him off anymore because his dick was jammed against the floor.
But that allowed Avery to crawl atop Joey’s back. He was so much shorter than Joey that his face pressed into the center of Joey’s back, which was dappled with sweat and a few stray black hairs. Avery licked him while Joey growled, out of either discomfort or desire or even ticklishness again, it wasn’t clear which.
Meanwhile Avery slammed his dick in and out of Joey’s thigh. It really did feel exactly like cornhole a man in the ass, Avery thought, just without the hole — the thighs felt like an asscrack, so Avery felt like he was ramming his dick between asscheeks.
And that thought gave him an idea. He crawled up Joey’s body until his cock throbbed in between Joey’s cheeks. Then he humped the hot, sweaty groove there, his dick pulsating against the tight rim of Joey’s asshole.
“Nope, nope,” Joey said after just a few seconds. He rolled over, pushing Avery onto the ground beside him. “I ain’t doing that, fairy.”
“Joey-!” Don Caprinelli snapped.
“I’m sorry, Don, he was trying to-“
“You can simply be more polite. This is why girls run in terror from you,” Don Caprinelli said.
“He ain’t a girl-“
“Politeness is mandatory, Joey.”
Joey sighed and shook his head. “Mister Flowers, I… You best not… I mean… I would prefer you did not… touch my, uh… You know… Back there… My… I don’t know the polite word for it, Don.”
“Anus,” Avery said with a giggle. The word made Joey chuckle too, like a little boy laughing at a fart joke.
Avery wasn’t surprised that Joey had backed out of the ass-humping. But now he was laying on his back on the floor, his rock-hard dick sticking straight up. Avery mounted his thighs and pressed his dick right next to Joey’s.
Joey’s body remained stiff and hard, almost as rock-solid as his dick, which pulsated hotly in Avery’s fingers as he jacked them both off together. His other hand tweaked Joey’s nipples, and caressed his broad shoulders. Joey’s chest was once again hard, the tension making it impossible for him to relax his muscles.
When the first few drops of precum lubricated Avery’s hand, he realized Joey wasn’t going to let this continue for long. Joey heaved and gasped for breath as though he was terrified of how aroused he was. It was his dick producing the precum, but Avery thought he shouldn’t point that out or risk angering Joey.
Avery instead lowered his body until he could once again stick his dick between Joey’s thighs. This time he was on Joey’s front side, so his face nestled in Joey’s chest, between his mountainous pecs. Joey’s dick dug into Avery’s flesh above his crotch.
Then Avery’s rod plunged between those thighs, reawakening Avery’s arousal and making his shaft spasm. He gasped and even lightly nibbled on Joey’s skin, which made him twitch and bark.
“Hey! Don Caprinelli, he’s trying to eat me!” Joey said like a boy tattling on his friend.
Don Caprinelli snorted. Avery didn’t see Don Caprinelli glance over with a sick look on his face, because Avery was slamming his dick up and down between Joey’s thighs. Joey’s dick throbbed and leaked precum onto Avery’s belly and chest.
“It is fine. It is dry-humping,” Don Caprinelli said. “Or it is humping, at least. I do not think he is a cannibal.”
Then a potent orgasm began, deep within Avery, who only dimly heard Joey sigh and mutter to himself. Avery gasped and threw his head back. Joey looked down at him from his reclining position, eyes wide like he had no idea where this was ending up. He watched in horror as bliss wracked Avery’s body, and Avery buried his face in Joey’s mafia-tatted chest.
Meanwhile Avery’s whole body spasmed and roiled atop Joey’s powerful frame. He rammed his dick back and forth as he licked and sucked hickeys onto Joey’s pecs. His dick spewed cum down onto the floor, making a big mess on the backside of Joey’s thighs and ass.
“Oh god, he’s doin’ it…”
Avery felt the most intense pleasure of his life rolling through him. He writhed and moaned into Joey’s body, his spine arching as the orgasm overwhelmed his body. By the time he was done, his skin was dripping with sweat, both his own and Joey’s.
He lifted his head. Joey was still rock-hard, with a vaguely nauseated look on his face, and Avery gripped his dick with both hands. He rubbed it against his smooth chest, intending to get Joey off that way, but then Joey got his attention.
Joey pulled lightly on his hair until Avery looked up at him, still gasping from his own post-orgasmic pleasure. He made a shushing face, then grasped an imaginary penis in front of his face. He pretended to jack it off, using his tongue to push against his cheeks.
“Damn, you one nasty fairy…”
Avery was still recovering from the aftershocks of his orgasm, so he was confused at first. After a moment, he realized what Joey was asking for — they both glanced up at Don Caprinelli, who faced the other way with his arms across his chest. He gave no indication he realized that Joey’s actions and his words were no longer quite linked.
That was interesting, Avery thought, he had assumed that Joey didn’t want to do anything and Don Caprinelli had talked him into it. Now it seemed that Joey’s reluctance was, at least in part, a show for Don Caprinelli’s benefit — maybe Joey had only been unpleasant about it because Don Caprinelli would punish him for being enthusiastic.
Without a peep, Avery lowered his head until he could swallow Joey’s dick. He tasted that salty cocktip, precum flowing like water from a tap as Joey’s aroused body spasmed. But it only lasted a moment: Joey must have been on the verge of orgasm already. From the moment Avery’s lips encircled his dick, cum throbbed in his thick shaft, and his balls crawled up in his sac.
By the time Avery managed to get his mouth all the way down the first two-thirds of Joey’s dick, his tongue slathering spit along the piss-slit, Joey had gripped his head. He sneered at Avery like he was punishing him for the puddle of cum Joey now sat in, and he slammed Avery’s head down on his dick.
“Hurry up and finish, fairy-“
“Be nice, Joey. Let him take his time,” Don Caprinelli snapped at him. “You have forgotten all the manners I have been teaching you.”
Joey threw his head back, but he had to suppress making any sound beyond a vague, quiet grunt. Avery could imagine how girls were scared of him if this was how he made love, Avery thought, but he didn’t say so because his mouth was full.
A hot load of cum sprayed into Avery’s mouth. It was creamy and sweet, thick like yogurt, and it coated Avery’s tongue and throat. It slipped down into his gullet as Joey made harsh, violent love to Avery’s face. Avery gagged involuntarily; as soon as he did, he realized he had attracted Don Caprinelli’s attention.
“Joey!” Don Caprinelli snapped. He had turned around, and he saw what was happening.
Joey winced and pulled away. He hurried to his feet as Don Caprinelli glowered at him. Cum still dripped from his cocktip as he tucked his dick away and blushed.
“Sorry, Don. The fairy seduced me-“
“Do not blame it on the fairy. He did what is only natural to him,” Don Caprinelli gripped Joey by the hair and pulled his head down to the level where they could look each other in the eye. It was arousing to watch for Avery, who cleaned cum off his face as it unfolded — once again, Joey was forced to submit to someone much smaller than him. Don Caprinelli shook his head with disgust. “I do not wish to have such depravity in my organization.”
“I’m sorry, Don.”
“Yes, you are,” Don Caprinelli said. He let go of Joey’s hair. “Now put your clothes on. We will go home now.” He turned to Avery and nodded politely. “Thank you for making loyal payments these last few years. You have been such an aid to my organization.”
“Uh, yeah… Thank you, Don Caprinelli,” Avery said. “For keeping my business safe.”
He nodded again. He pushed Joey towards the bathroom. “Clean yourself off, beast. I think you can please Mister Flowers every month from now on, Joey. Perhaps you will learn your manners that way.”