Thug Trade: The Extortionist's Lackey

by Gavin Rockhard

  "Have you sodomized any women, Alberto?" Mr. Goronzelli asked.

  Alberto chuckled. He thwacked his dick over Eddie's asscheek and winced at the sight of it jiggling. "Yeah. Hell yeah. Sir."

  Mr. Goronzelli slapped him hard. A sharp crack rang out in the shop. "You should not do that. It is foul. It is unbiblical. Women are not to be penetrated from behind, Alberto. I forbid it."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Now I must devise a suitable punishment," Mr. Goronzelli said. Alberto frowned and closed his eyes. He wedged his dick in and gagged as soon as he felt it slide into Eddie's waiting asshole. Mr. Goronzelli watched with his hand running down Alberto's back to his big hairy ass. He stuck one delicate finger between those cheeks and teased Alberto's tight, virginal hole.

  "Sir, it's... a lot of people do it," Alberto said.

  "Not people who work for me. It is only acceptable to sodomize a man if you are punishing him under orders from your superior," Mr. Goronzelli said. "I will make sure you do not do it too often."

  "Yes, sir." Alberto gasped and bit his lip. Mr. Goronzelli's finger pushed into his asshole. He shuddered. "Sir...?"

  Mr. Goronzelli ignored him, and went to find a stool. He placed it behind Alberto. Then he kissed each of Alberto's cheeks.

  A surge of pain hit Eddie -- Alberto had realized what his "punishment" would be, and that made him lose all his inhibitions simply because he stopped paying attention to his dick sliding into Eddie's ass. So Eddie backed his own ass up, fucking himself with Alberto's cock.

  Meanwhile Mr. Goronzelli got up on the stool behind Alberto and pulled his pants down. His dick was already rock-hard. "Lean forward just a little, Alberto. Know that this gives me no pleasure. It is simply a way to punish you, so that you will know I am serious when I say you may not sodomize women."

  "Yes, sir. I know you are serious. You don't have to do... do that." Alberto's voice broke. Eddie saw a few tears running down his cheek.

  "Hush. You may not cry," Mr. Goronzelli said. "I demand utter loyalty, Alberto. You must submit. I also practice utter discretion, however. No one will know. You will not be the first of my men I am forced to sodomize."

  "Oh-" Alberto's voice broke because Mr. Goronzelli's cock rammed into his ass.

  As Mr. Goronzelli fucked him, Alberto slowly went down to the ground. If Eddie had been fighting against him, he could have slipped away, but he lowered himself too. Mr. Goronzelli, however, stood on a stool. He did not lower his height.

  "Stand, Alberto," he said. "Do not bend over. A real man stands straight and tall, even when it is difficult."

  Alberto's knees buckled. He hissed and sucked in his breath. "Yes... Yes... Sir." He spoke through gritted teeth. His eyes were closed. His cock was still rock-hard and throbbing inside Eddie's ass, but neither he nor Eddie moved just yet. Every time Eddie even took a deep breath, it moved Alberto's torso a bit, which made Alberto gasp in pain.

  "You are a handsome boy, Alberto." Mr. Goronzelli breathed heavily into the meat of Alberto's back.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Do you ever shave your chest?"

  "Uh... No. Sir. Well... Yes, one time... I did. I don't... though... I don't, usually," Alberto said.

  Eddie stopped pretending he was being raped. He even began to jack himself off. Neither Alberto nor Mr. Goronzelli paid him any mind. Eddie leaned his head back so his face was buried in Alberto's massive pecs. He licked on his sweaty hair and sucked on his nipples. Alberto's eyes were closed, his whole body quavering as he accepted Mr. Goronzelli's cock.

  "Good. Men should be hairy. Do you shave your back?"

  "Uh... no."

  "That you must do. Perhaps not yet, the hair is still barely over the top of your shoulder. It is okay to be a little bit barbaric, after all," Mr. Goronzelli said. "But when you get older, your back will become hairy. Probably soon. You must shave it."

  "How?"

  Mr. Goronzelli laughed, which made his dick twitch and caused Alberto to howl. He lifted up one leg as he struggled to accept the cock in his ass. Mr. Goronzelli kissed the back of Alberto's neck. "Get someone to shave it, of course. I realize you can't shave it yourself."

  "Yes, sir."

  Alberto again almost fell to the floor. His knees weakened once more, but he straightened himself. He was so tall that he towered above both Eddie beneath him and Mr. Goronzelli atop him, even though Mr. Goronzelli was on a stool.

  Mr. Goronzelli's fingers stretched over Alberto's chest. Since Eddie was pressed up against him, that meant Mr. Goronzelli's hand snuck between Eddie's back and Alberto's torso. He lowered his hand all the way to Alberto's crotch. He gently played with his balls as Eddie fucked back and forth on Alberto's dick.

  "Eddie," Mr. Goronzelli said, "I'm beginning to suspect that Alberto is correct that you are homosexual. Perhaps he is not so dumb after all. Is he correct?"

  "Yes," Eddie said breathlessly as he shot his load onto the floor. His ass tightened around Alberto's cock, which made Alberto gasp. For the first time since Alberto was penetrated, he moved his hips. He fucked Eddie deeply and groaned, his hot breath condensing on Eddie's cheek.

  "Did you pay Mr. Solta so you could be here tonight? Because you knew Alberto would fornicate with you?"

  Eddie nodded and moaned. "Not Alberto specifically, sir," he said. He wondered how much trouble he was going to be in.

  "I see. That is alright. I am going to take that money from Mr. Solta. That is properly mine. You are paying my man for sex. He is not Mr. Solta's man. He is mine. I will have a word with Mr. Solta," he said.

  "Wait..." Alberto moaned. "Wha-... What?" It sounded like he had trouble following that conversation because of his agonizing pain and his overwhelming orgasm. Cum flowed into Eddie's ass, a great big river of it that seeped through his flesh and warmed his body.

  Eddie was still pinned between Alberto and the counter, while Alberto couldn't move because Mr. Goronzelli was fucking him from behind. Alberto winced. He leaned forward to rest his weight on his elbows on the counter, which forced Eddie to remain in place as he was forcibly fucked with Alberto's limp cock.

  "Lower your head, Alberto," Mr. Goronzelli said. He whispered something Eddie couldn't hear, and Alberto closed his eyes. Mr. Goronzelli kissed him on the lips. Alberto looked a little sick, or like he was trying to visualize a more pleasing environment. His soft dick twitched in Eddie's ass, which made Eddie cry out in pain.

  Cum flowed in Alberto's ass. Alberto gagged, both from the feeling of semen trickling into his ass and from the impassioned moan Mr. Goronzelli emitted into Alberto's mouth. Alberto writhed atop Eddie's ass. Since Eddie was squashed beneath him, he could feel every drop of cum flowing into Alberto through the squirming of Alberto's muscles on his back.

  At last Mr. Goronzelli pulled away and stepped down from his stool. Alberto roared and hit Eddie in his back. Then he too stepped away. Eddie sighed with relief and collapsed to the floor.

  "Now we must make him clean off our manhoods," Mr. Goronzelli said. He glared at Eddie. "For most men, this would be the ultimate punishment."

  Eddie gladly opened his mouth. He swallowed both cocks at once, which made Alberto gag. He looked away. Mr. Goronzelli kissed him again as he gagged, and Eddie sucked up all the rancid assjuice off both their dicks. He kept on sucking on Alberto's cock, since he was so sensitive it made him contort delightfully, muscles twitching beneath Eddie's fingers.

  Eventually, however, Mr. Goronzelli declared them finished. He grabbed Eddie's clothes and found the two hundred dollars hidden in there. "I assumed you must have the cash as a backup. I will make Mr. Solta hand over the rest. Do not tell him beforehand that I know what happened. I will punish him very severely if he already knows when I come to see him."

  "Yes, sir," Eddie said. He sat there, basking in the afterglow of his orgasm as they both dressed.

  Then Mr. Goronzelli fixed Alberto's tie, declared him a "sartorial disaster" and said he sweated too much. At last they walked out, leaving Eddie t
here to clean up, which he didn't do for a long time. He loved the smell of alpha male rutting, especially thugs.

  Eddie adored servicing thugs of all kinds, and this had been perhaps his favorite encounter yet. He immediately wondered how often Mr. Goronzelli molested his men and if he could get in on that in some other way.

  But he also wanted to move on. Eddie liked a wide variety of thug trade, and there were plenty more criminals out there for him to service. He couldn't wait to track down his next conquest.

  Keep reading after the end-matter to find a complete bonus story, presented just for loyal readers like you!

  Str8 Trade is an open series from Eroticature.org built around rough trade erotica. It's about a group of men who seek the ultimate in alpha worship and str8 baiting gay trade! Check out the wiki to keep updated on new stories and sign up for the mailing list or social media!

  Anyone can participate provided they meet a few minimum requirements, contact eroticatorium@gmail.com for more information. Your stories can be advertised for free on social media and in end matter blurbs like this one. This ebook is available under the Open Setting License (osl.theonosis.com), which allows anyone to reuse the characters, locations and other setting elements in their own work.

  Gutter Trade: Abe loves sucking off hobos, bumbs, drifters, thugs, derelicts, addicts, losers, scumbags and more! The tales of Gutter Trade are mostly too hot and extreme for anyone. Do not read them.

  Rough Trade: Rob wants to use his entire fortune paying the roughest, dirtiest and trashiest str8 bucks and hunks for sex. He's got a talent for finding straight men who are willing to give it for a buck or two, and Rob is all too willing to pay!

  Fantasy Trade: Kyle has a machine that transports him between fantasy worlds. As you might expect, he uses this for its most obvious purpose -- servicing all the hot alpha males who populated the covers of the fantasy novels he has been reading his whole life!

  Alpha Trade: Bill thinks about sex all day because he's an erotica author. But he doesn't always get to indulge his greatest passion: alpha trade! He likes servicing the sexiest, alphaest, machismoest man's-men around!

  Holiday Trade: Martin celebrates every holiday on the calender... and he's trying to find a stud for each one. He'll pay anything to service the hottest, straightest, roughest trade associated with each holiday!

  Service Trade: Wayne loves to service service-industry studs. Cashiers, clerks, repairmen, delivery boys and more, he lusts for each one. He's got the money to persuade them to roll out their meat, and the desire to make it happen no matter the cost!

  Suit Trade: Alan only lusts for one kind of man -- studly alpha males in suits! He loves any kind of suit formalwear, and he has a knack for finding just those str8bait who will give him a taste of their suitmeat with the right monetary persuasion!

  Muscle Trade: Joey loves throbbing, pulsating musclegods and musclefreaks. He'll pay anything to get a taste of their sweetmeats and funky treats, so he gets to travel the world sucking down the veiny, firm flesh of the most muscular studs imaginable!

  Street Trade: Chazz craves the rough-and-tumble men of urban areas, the kinds of thugs, alphas and machos who make cities vibrant, bustling... and sexy. There's nothing hotter than servicing the buffest str8 toughs in public urban environments, and Chazz has the cash to make that happen!

  There's dozens more Str8 Trade series waiting for you on the wiki!

  Gutter Trade: The Scary Bouncer

  By

  Gavin Rockhard

  Copyright 2016

  Smashwords Edition

  Author's note: All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Use of an image of a model in this ebook or in advertisements for it does not suggest that the model is depicted in the work presented here, nor that the model participates in, endorses, condones or approves of the thoughts or behavior described in this ebook.

  This ebook may contain explicit descriptions of illegal acts, including immoral and/or proscribed acts of a sexual nature. The author, publishers and everyone else involved in the creation, marketing and distribution of this ebook unequivocably disapprove of these acts. Do not act out anything you read in this ebook. Always practice safe, consensual sex with unrelated adult human(s).

  Abe was beginning to wonder if Toby had changed his mind. He sat in the champagne room alone, getting hard. The stripper -- Destiny was her name -- had giggled when Abe said he wanted to suck off one of the bouncers, and when he said his target was Toby, she howled with peals of laughter interspersed with squeals of shock. She asked several times if he was sure, and did he mean the white one or the black one.

  He met the white one. He knew them both. The black one was Jamil, and he was cute, like he should be an older brother on a Nickelodeon TV show. He'd seem tough but every week he'd bust out some homespun big-bro wisdom. That was not Abe's type.

  He liked his men rough and nasty, and Toby fit the bill. He was white, squat, no-necked, with a big burn scar on the side of his neck and shoulder. He was vaguely rednecky, vaguely skinheadish and -- when Jamil was around, at least -- somewhat thuggesque too.

  Are you sure? He smells. Like he doesn't use deodorant. He says he does, but I don't think he does.

  We complained about his smell, Mr. Havorkian told him to shower more or something. It helped... some.

  Yeah, you want Jamil, he is so cute. He's got dimples for days. And he will totally let you suck him off for like fifty bucks, if I tell him I think it's hot. Which I will, for fifty bucks also.

  No. I want the weird one.

  Abe didn't explain. Women, he thought, were so stupid. They liked clean men, but Abe knew that the best men were the raunchiest ones. The tastiest fruit was the most rancid, that was what he always said.

  Now Abe sat in the champagne room, certain that something had gone wrong, that he had changed his mind. Abe asked him point-blank, right in front of Jamil -- the strip club was ten minutes to closing time then -- and offered him five hundred dollars.

  But Toby just scowled. One of the girls dragged Abe away as though he had made a faux pas. He thought maybe Toby was more homophobic than he had predicted.

  But she said he would do it, he just needed to get drunk first. And so that was why Abe sat in the champagne room. It'd be better if he doesn't see you until he's ready.

  Finally the door opened. Toby tottered in, on unsteady feet. He was obviously very drunk. He reeked of liquor. He had taken off his shirt, so he wore only a wifebeater, which revealed that that burn scar on the side of his neck extended in thin tendrils down his chest and his belly. It looked like something hot and sticky had been dumped on him.

  "Yo," he said. "Let's do this." He had a deep, gravelly voice. For the first time, Abe wondered if something was very wrong with Toby. He looked at Abe as though he was going to murder him, eyes narrowed to slits. Abe understood then why the strippers were afraid of him.

  "Okay."

  He belched. The smell of cheap alcohol flooded Abe's nostrils. He sunk to his knees and grabbed Toby's cock through his ratty jeans.

  Toby didn't react to Abe's touch, like he was too drunk to notice. He swayed. His dick twitched but it didn't get hard yet. His pecs flexed beneath his stained wifebeater.

  "I am gonna hurt ya, boy," Toby murmured. "You ain't gonna like this. I ain't some downlow nigga like Jamil. You wanna suck him off?"

  "Kinda. But you're hotter."

  He chuckled. "No, I ain't," he said. "If you quit partway through, you still gotta pay me, faggot."
<
br />   "Okay. I won't quit."

  "I'm gonna hit you. I'm gonna make you real nasty."

  "That's what I was countin' on."

  "I only fuck faggots one way, so don't go tellin' me how to do it. I do it my way."

  "Okay."

  He gulped and sighed. It sounded like he had hoped to turn Abe off so he could get paid without having to do anything gay. "Get ya hand off my dick, faggot. I ain't tell you to touch it yet."

  Abe dropped his hands to the ground. "Please, sir? I want to suck on it."

  "You will." He pulled his cock out through the fly of his jeans. He let it flop there, limp, just inches in front of Abe's face. Then he closed his eyes, sighed and let loose with a stream of piss.

  It was hot and acrid, and it made Abe's eyes water. He doused his face in it and let it fill his mouth. It overflowed and still more came, soaking his clothes.

  Abe loved piss. It made his own cock get hard in his pants. He didn't touch it yet because he wanted to wait, and he wanted to savor the bitter taste of Toby's urine. Abe felt filthy, skin crawling, clothes plastered to his flesh. He shivered.

  "Don't swallow yet, faggot," he said. He bent down and pursed his lips like he was going to kiss Abe. Instead he hocked up a big loogie and spat it right into Abe's mouth. "Still no swallowing, bitch." He spat a few more times, leering with disgust as his phlegm plopped into Abe's throat. The taste was sour and rancid, and it made Abe's dick hard. Toby stood up, turned around and dropped his jeans. He stuck his ass in front of Abe's face, spread his cheeks and farted.