Copyright 2022 -- Daemon D. Hart
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In It For Life
Francesco hated the sound of his own slurps as he went down on Don's shaft over and over like a self-propelled piston. No point in denying it anymore; he was nothing else but this man's toy, and he was never going to get out. That wasn't the part making him the angriest, though. No, Mouse and Karl were stupid, fucking behind his back as if he would ever have anything against that, trying to play a secret dangerous game by themselves. They were going to get fucked up by the man he was sucking off right now like his life depended on it, which, in a way, was true. But Mouse and Karl, they were going to get themselves in serious deep shit. Francesco tried to focus on each of them. Mouse thought himself clever, trying to bring a powerful man down, without realizing that Karl had an advantage. No, Don wouldn't kill his own son, but Francesco could totally see him offing Mouse just because he would have fun with it.
How could the two of them be so stupid? Francesco stopped for a moment. If he bit down right now, leaving Don in agony, maybe...
He grunted as the blunt head of the cock in his mouth hit the back of his throat. "You'll have to do better, Francesco, if you don't want to see me mad at you anymore."
Who the fuck was mad? Don sounded amused, but he was a fucking snake. Francesco groaned helplessly as his head was pushed down, over and over, and his throat forced to take it. He had no idea how this fucker was doing that, but he was making him choke, which said a lot seeing how he had deepthroated since what seemed like forever. Karl had taken care of his training, but nothing prepared him for this. Maybe that was just his body rejecting the fucker's cock trying to suffocate him.
Don finally appeared to realize that Francesco was hitting his thigh with one fist and let him free. Francesco wheezed as he come up. Don laughed and threw a handkerchief at him. "Wipe your face. You look like a used up whore."
"What the fuck do you want from me?" Francesco asked while dragging the handkerchief over his face. His stomach was revolting at the sight of the fucker's cock, lying on one side and glistening from the saliva used for making it slide through unhindered.
Don surprised him by grabbing his crotch. Francesco gasped and remained rigid, unsure of what the man wanted from him now.
"You look at me with disgust, but you like it, Francesco," Don said and began to rub his cock.
"Just my cock," Francesco replied. He leaned back and rested his head against the plush headrest. "I hate your fucking guts. But if you're there, how about you rub it a little longer?"
He had said that to make Don move his hand away, but, to his surprise, the man cupped his cock and balls through his pants. The touch wasn't hurtful, so Francesco squirmed.
"I'm not a cocksucker," Don said in an even tone, "but I'll buy boys fresh out of high school to suck you off and lick your ass in front of me."
"And I thought you wanted to keep me all to yourself."
"Toys don't count. Toys aren't people, Francesco," Don said and laughed like he had just said the most amusing thing ever.
"So I'm not a person, either," Francesco concluded.
Don let go of his cock and caressed his face with the back of his hand. He wasn't that much of a fool to consider that a sign of affection. There was always an angle.
"Francesco, soon you'll be my official better half. How can you say such a thing about yourself? Really, we should work on your self-esteem."
"Besides getting barely legal dudes to suck my cock, what other plans do you have in store for me?"
"Obviously, I will want to show you off. That means that my business partners will get to know you very well. And by that, I mean very well."
Francesco threw the damp handkerchief back at Don. "If you just plan on lending me around, why not leave me with Karl? I don't get you."
Don grabbed his chin and held his stare. "That doesn't bring me anything, Francesco. Karl is too possessive. If I could have struck a deal with him regarding you, there wouldn't have been any need for grabbing you off the street like I just did. But Karl is a stupid boy and thinks he loves you."
"Still, there are plenty of whores around. Get them to meet your business partners. I'm sure any warm hole would work for those fuckers."
Francesco groaned as the slap caught him flat on the cheek. It had been so hard that it had crushed the flesh against his teeth, and he could taste blood now.
"Because no sacrifice is considered as such, unless there's something to lose, and something to gain," Don said in the same even tone, as if he hadn't just slapped him silly a moment ago. "You see, Francesco, these men are not so easy to please. You're very capable in that regard. You can take so much cock, I don't remember meeting anyone like you. And excesses and extremes are what rich people live for."
"And what excesses are those? Or I'm not entitled to learn about them beforehand?"
Don's cruel smile made his stomach squeeze and threaten to send up his throat the little food he had had that day. "Ah, for instance, and I'm just giving you an example, you might end up with a broken bone or two at the end of a fruitful meeting."
Francesco gulped and tried not to blink. "Broken bones? Is that all?"
Don shrugged. "I'm not saying that's all, but why frighten the prey?"
"Let me get this straight because I don't understand. You'll first present me to the world like I'm your one and only, right?"
"Correct so far, Francesco. For the record, I have yet to cum, so my patience with you is wearing thin."
"Then let me cut to the chase. When I turn up dead, won't there be any questions? Or am I just going to disappear?"
"I'll draw the line to that. But, otherwise, some practices, let's call them, might make you go insane if you're not strong enough. I think you are, however. And, since I can anticipate your questions, the fact that you'll be introduced as my beloved spouse will only make my partners believe that I'm willing to sacrifice what I hold most dear only so that I have their approval and money."
"But it's all bullshit, of course," Francesco said with a grimace of disgust.
"No, it's not all bullshit," Don contradicted him. "I want you all, but your narrow little mind can't understand it. I want to own you so much that I can do anything I want with you. If that's not love, I don't know what it is."
"You don't know what that word means. I hope there truly is a hell somewhere, for people like you."
"Too much talk, Francesco, and the night's not get younger. Drop your pants and hop on my cock. I'll cum inside you until there's no room left in your ass."
Don had made good on his promise, after all. Francesco crawled out of the car, wearing nothing but his shirt. At this point, he didn't even care how he looked, with cum pouring out of his ass and down the inside of his thighs, barefooted and walking behind Don. If anyone saw him, anyone with a camera, who could post shit online, that would be his save. But, of course, no one but him and the fucker was there. The limo driver took off without even dropping the window, so Francesco could only suppose that the gorilla from earlier must have been behind the wheel.
He would have to think of something, how to get away, but now he was too tired even to think, let alone break into a sprint and take his too fucked ass out of there. Don didn't spare him a look as he walked into the house.
Like before, there were no lights, and Francesco just followed the fucker into the same room where he had been forced to fuck himself in that giant dildo. Don turned on the lights and stopped abruptly, making Francesco crash against him, lost in thought as he was.
"What are you doing here?" Don asked.
Francesco was about to ask what kind of dope he was on to ask him that, when he realized that the question hadn't been addressed to him. He sidestepped carefully and froze on the spot when he saw Morgan standing in the middle of the room, an unreadable expression on his face. He were his usual suit, and he looked his usual self, but Francesco noticed immediately that he was holding something in his right hand.
"There's something you need to see, sir." The honorific was added after a short pause and in a voice that seemed to indicate disgust and not respect.
"And what is that?" Don asked. Even without seeing the guy's face, Francesco could sense the sneer that he must have on as he stared at Morgan.
Morgan waved his hand, and only then Francesco understood that it was a remote control, not the usual kind, a lot sleeker and smaller. The back wall illuminated and Francesco stood there, gaping at the scene. He didn't understand what the pictures showed, but clearly Don was in them and sharing what looked like a very good time with a guy in his sixties with a very large belly and the eyes of a rat.
Don moved slowly toward Morgan, and Francesco followed him with his eyes.
"Is this supposed to impress me? Pictures can be doctored so easily these days. And what's wrong with sharing a few words with an affluent businessman?"
Morgan didn't appear intimidated by Don or his words. "An affluent businessman with a particular taste in young boys."
Francesco stared at the screen again and turned his head away in disgust. If what was on the screen was real, that businessman Morgan was talking about was nothing but some lowlife that needed to be squashed like a bug.
"Again, I don't understand what you're trying to do here. Pictures like these are not hard to make."
"They weren't made. They were taken," Morgan said without letting anything out. His face was a mask of perfect calm.
"You've always been a thorn in my side, Morgan," Don said. "What's the meaning of this? You only slightly annoyed me, but I think you scared Francesco."
Don gestured at him and half-turned. Francesco began moving backwards towards the door. If that was supposed to be his fate, too, he was more than willing to try his luck by running away half-naked until his bare feet bled only to get away.
"Pictures can be doctored, indeed," Morgan continued tonelessly, "but not confessions. The kind spilled in front of an investigator of the highest rank. And a judge."
That finally seemed to chip at Don's apparent calm. "What are you talking about?"
Morgan gestured at the images again, but Francesco didn't look. "Your biggest campaign contributor is a fucking rapist and abuser. Just murder didn't make it to his rap sheet. Otherwise, he ticks every possible box. A just judge's wettest dream."
"He didn't contribute to my campaign." Don walked over to the mini bar and poured himself a drink.
Francesco prayed that the fucker didn't notice he was trying to get away. A few steps now and he would be out in the hallway, and from there, he could run to his freedom.
"Oh, no?" Morgan asked. "There's a small sample of what we found in your party's books sent directly to your inbox."
By how Don fiddled with his phone and the sudden tension in his shoulders, Francesco could tell that it had to be true. So, Morgan had figured out a way to take down this fucker, but Francesco expected men in dark suits to start pouring into the room from all directions to gun the bodyguard down and do their boss' bidding.
He was in the door now. Morgan didn't look at him, which probably meant that the bodyguard was expecting him to be smart enough to get away. Francesco controlled his breathing, trying to make himself as good as invisible.
It was done. He was out in the hallway. Even if Don heard him open the front door, it wouldn't matter, as there would be enough distance between them.
Just as he turned on his heels, he came against a hard mass and his breath halted along with his heart.
"Hi, baby," Karl cooed at him and hugged him tightly.
tbc
Author's note:
Since I was asked about certain things regarding Karl and him getting dick from more than just Francesco, here's the beginning of one missing scene I wrote for him when he's getting dicked by Morgan:
https://daemondhart.blogspot.com/2022/11/in-it-for-life-31.html