The Boss' Toy

THE BOSS' TOY by Andrej Koymasky (C) 1989 - 2002 written May 19th 1989 translated by the author English text kindly revised by my friend Frank, in Miami

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"THE BOSS' TOY" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.

CHAPTER 2

For three generations the Russo family had been in the U.S.A. Antonio Russo, who immigrated with his parents while still an adolescent, entered the Musante Clan and soon became the lieutenant of old Musante. His son Matteo was made the chief of the family in Chicago. He ran the place with a firm hand, and was esteemed by everybody as an even tempered and skilled boss. He was able to be as generous with his friends as he was hard with his opponents - esteemed and loved by the first, respected and feared by the latter. When he died a few months ago, his son Antony (without the "h", as he was proud to point out) took his place. Antony was merciless. Profits interested him more than human relationships. Unlike his father, Antony delegated practically nothing of the family business to underlings. Obsessed with being kept informed on everything and determined to decide everything by himself, he devoted all his time to being a Mafia boss.

As a boy, Antony had enjoyed some experiences with males but, when he reached twenty, Matteo had made him marry. This didn't prevent the young mafioso from continuing to amuse himself with males, whom he liked young. Over the years, three sons were born to him, Daniel, Matt and Robert. As they matured, don Antony divided the various interests and the family's activities among the three, controlling them closely either by himself or through his lieutenant, Joe Greco, a man equally skilled and merciless, with whom he got along better than with his own blood. A hard, shrewd, determined man, Antony nevertheless managed to sculpt for himself a public image of affability and kindness. He attended Mass every Sunday with his extended family and gave generously to the Parish church.

Of Antony's children, the first two married women chosen by their father. Robert, however, didn't intend on marrying since he was gay. Therefore, when his father told him it was time to marry, Robert answered decidedly that it was out of the question. Because he knew very well that his father also liked boys, there was little the man could fling in his face. Antony never again brought up the subject. Robert even started to bed occasional little friends under his father's eyes. His mother knew, but said nothing, just as she kept silent about her husband's gay affairs.

When Robert was twenty years old, he went with an associate, Chris D'Angelo, who was then twenty-three, to settle a question with the manager of one of the family's nightclubs. The man was not in, but was presumed to be arriving in a short while. While waiting for him, they sat at a table and watched the show featuring a boy stripping while lady customers slipped dollar bills first in his open fly, then in his swollen jock strap. Robert was looking at the boy rather fascinated, and was getting aroused.

"Chris, what's that boy's name?"

"Marco Lopez. He is a Puerto Rican."

"Do you know him?"

"By sight only. He has been working here one year."

"How old is he?"

"Nineteen, or eighteen."

"Do you know if he is gay?"

"Well no, but I can tell you he goes to bed with anyone who pays for it, man or woman. Why are you so interested in him?"

"Don't tell me that you are the only one not to know I like boys! I thought everybody knew it."

"No, really, I didn't know that. Nobody ever told me. Are you really gay? Or possibly bisexual?"

"Gay, gay! And I would like to take that Lopez to my bed."

"He is handsome, but in bed... disappointing. He waits for the other to do everything. He doesn't participate..."

"How do you know that?"

"I tried him."

"But... are you gay too?"

"Well, confidence for confidence, I can tell you, since you told me. But I don't want others knowing that or they'll make a laughing stock out of me. I am not 'the boss's son'..."

"I see, Chris... And you... how are you in bed?"

"Well, it's not for me to say... Why don't you judge it by yourself?"

"I would like that, sure... Later, come to my room, OK?"

"Sure, with pleasure."

So, Chris spent that very night in Robert's bed. They liked each other and gradually began to care for each other. As their fondness grew, they became lovers.

Six months passed. Then one day while they were making love, don Antony, looking for his son, knocked at Robert's bedroom door.

"Robert, are youa there?" he called.

"Yes, Dad... just a moment..," he answered - and both tried to dress hastily.

"Is dere somebody witha you?" his father asked from behind the door.

"Yes... just a moment..."

At last Robert opened the door and tried to prevent his father from seeing who was with him, but don Antony pushed aside his son and went in.

"Ah, Chris D'Angelo! It'sa you who is the boyfriend ofa my son? I didn't know you also hada dese tendencies. Attaboy! Go waita for me in fronta my studio, I have to talka to my son. I talka to you soon after."

"Dad, Chris is my friend, let him alone. I answer for him. You can't..."

"Chris, before beinga your boyfriend, isa my man. Therefore he hasa to answer for things to me, before all," his father retorted dryly. Then, after talking with his son, he went to his studio and showed Chris in.

"Sit down. So, you likea men, I see."

"I am fond of your son... and he of me."

"Fond? Let'sa say you like fucking witha him. It woulda be more correct. But, it'sa you who fucks him, or does he fuck you?"

"Don Antony... please..."

"Answer me!" the man shouted menacingly.

"Both ways..."

"Good. Tonight at ten go upstairsa to my room and be ready, stark naked, ina my bed. I likea you, and want to shove it up your ass. From now ona you'll givea fun to me, anda no more to my son. Understand?"

"Don Antony, you can't ask me that..."

"I'ma not asking you, I'ma ordering you! You took it froma my son, but froma now on you takea from me. You know I don't likea to be contradicted, don't you?"

Chris had to obey and Robert protested uselessly with his father. Robert and Chris managed to meet again at times, in secret from don Antony, but seldom and very cautiously. If his father ever became aware of what they were doing, they would be in a very bad fix.

Now when Antony had taken over his father's place, among the things that came into his hands were the papers about Ben Di Stefano's shop. Attached was a note of his father's, dated a few days before his death. Matteo had written that Di Stefano's interest rates would be reduced by half for at least one year. Antony summoned Ben and, in front of him, after reading his father's note, burned it.

"You woulda understand, my dear Benito, dat we can'ta become a charitable institution. Derefore da old rate remains witouta any discount. Ifa you do your besta, I'ma sure you cana remain faithful to da note you signed."

"Don Antony, when my wife was alive, things went nicely. Now, it is not that they are bad, but it is no more like before... I always paid on time, you know, but now it is becoming difficult. Your father, also considering the bonds between our families..."

"My father is dead, peacea be toa his soul. And it seemsa to me dat between our families dere's no blood ties, are dere?"

"No, that's right. But my grandfather worked for your grandfather, and my father for your father. I too, when a young man, worked for your father, you know this very well. And always with dedication and loyalty. Two years ago I thought to retire, with your father's authorization, and to open a shop for my family..."

"And my father helped you witha dat big loan. What, are you asking more, Benito? We givea you a hand, and you wanna take a whole arm?"

"No, God forbid that..."

"So, den, try to earna good money and to pay. I wisha you alla da best, Benito. Work hard, I recommend you, so whena my men come to collect, you gonna honor you debts."

Then, when Di Stefano couldn't manage to pay for an entire installment, don Antony sent him Willy Parker to warn him.

So, when Joe Greco told him that a son of Ben Di Stefano, Silvio, sixteen years old, wanted to talk with him, and explained to him the stratagem that he likely used, don Antony asked Joe, "How isa the scamp?"

"A smartass. Determined, stubborn."

"But isa he good-looking, or what?"

"Rather well shaped, nice, good-looking, don Antony. An honest face, athletic body, he coulda be thought an eighteen year old boy. And he has a nicea, dark-skinned body."

"Take him upstairs. You havea made me curious."

"Asa you like, don Antony. But thata story of an attempt on your life... I don'ta believe it. You'll justa waste your time wit him."

"Takea him upstairs... I'll takea care of that."

"At your orders, don Antony."

So, Silvio was taken in presence of don Antony and their private colloquy started.

The boy admitted his lie at once. When the boss asked him if he wanted to talk about his father's debt, Silvio answered, "That's right, Don Antony. Listen... Dad, with all his good will, will never be able to pay all he owes you by the deadline. And, at the interest rate you ask from him, he will only get later and later, seeing how business is going. He says he wants to come to see you, and to give the shop and all to you. Because he is an honorable man. He renounces even everything he already paid you back. He is ready to renounce everything."

"Good, so we willa be even. Your father knowsa how to behave."

"Yes, but is this convenient to you? You will give the shop to somebody else, and this story will start all over again. It is difficult to earn more than what my father is earning now. So, then, why not leave the shop to my father?"

"My boy, whata will be my gain in dat? It seemsa to me dat you are asking, without offering anything in exchange."

"I... I will work for you. I'll do anything you order me to do, and without pay. Just let my father breathe. I have nothing more to offer you."

Don Anthony looked for a long while at the boy, then asked, "Do you havea any idea about what doing anything I'll aska you means?"

"Sure, anything, without discussion, without objection, soon and well. Just try me. If I pass the test, I'll work for you, and you'll leave my father with his shop in peace. If not... I have nothing more to offer you, therefore nothing more to ask you."

The boss again looked carefully at the boy, then a weird smile surfaced on his face. "I likea you, lad. I wanta givea you a chance, but only onea chance. Come here, in fronta me..."

"Here I am, don Antony," the boy readily answered standing up and going in front of the man.

"Kneel, here."

Silvio couldn't understand but at once obeyed.

The boss opened his legs and, staring into the boy's eyes, said, "Come nearer... more... so, good. Now pulla out my dick and suck it. And try to givea me fun, boy!"

Silvio couldn't believe his ears, but he didn't bat an eyelash. He parted the tails of the gown, unbuttoned the fly of the pajamas and freed the big, flaccid member. He started at once to lick it, to suck it with dedication, trying to remember how his friend Joe had done it to him. The member soon became hard and straight. Silvio made it slip back to his throat, working it with his tongue, while he was kneading with his fingers the heavy ball sack of the man. Don Antony smiled, pleased and amused.

When he felt he was near cumming, he said, "Don'ta pull out, boy. Drink it all... yes, all of it..." and started to empty himself into the throat of the boy.

Silvio had a gag reflex but controlled himself and continued to suck and swallow jet after jet of the warm, thick cream. Then the man pushed him away from him with a small nudge. Silvio's cheeks were wet with tears, but his eyes were serious, determined like before, not at all troubled.

"Never done it before?" the man asked, slowly caressing his still turgid member.

"No, never, don Antony."

"Anda you ass? Is it still virgin, or havea you taken cocks in it?"

"I have never taken one, don Antony."

"Perfect! Lower your trousers anda bend ninety degrees ona my desktop. I'll takea your cherry now, lad. Something to object?"

"No, don Antony, all as you wish," Silvio said.

He went near the desk, lowered his trousers and underwear and bent ninety degrees, his chest on the desk top as he had been told. The man went to his back and fingered the boy's buttocks.

"Anda you are accepting all this, justa to rescue your father?"

"Certainly, don Antony."

"Thisa is just a test, but ifa I accept, you willa become my toy-boy, are you aware of that?" the man said taking something from a drawer.

"Certainly, don Antony."

"Do you really understand what it means?" the man insisted, pushing his finger between the boy's buttocks and testing his hole, then abundantly spreading on it a cold cream, and pushing his finger inside the tight and untouched boy's sphincter.

"That you just say and I'll obey, in whatever moment, for whatever thing, how, where, when you like and as long as you like."

"And willa you accept to becomea my toy-boy?" the man asked, inserting the tip of his hard member between the boy's buttocks and starting to vigorously push to penetrate him.

"Sure... don... Antony..." the boy answered trying to resist the piercing pain he was feeling.

"Am I hurting you?" the man asked, pushing deeper inside the boy.

"It has... no ... importance... don Antony..."

"But am I hurting you?" the man persisted, giving another strong-loined stroke to enter the boy completely.

"Yes, don Antony... it's hurting... but I would... become used... to it..."

"I likea you tight ass, boy!" the man said starting to fuck him with determined thrusts. Silvio was biting his lips so as not to let escape even the littlest moan caused by the sharp pain that the huge member was inflicting on him. He felt torn inside, but stoically accepted the pain. He was feeling the man thrusting inside him with energy, with determination. The heavy mahogany desk jolted at each stroke of the man who was holding the boy by his shoulders.

Then the boss, continuing to piston the boy steadily, stretched out his hand and pushed a button on the intercom.

"Yes, don Antony?" a woman's voice said.

"Looka for Chris and tella him to come immediately to my studio."

"Chris D'Angelo, don Antony?"

"Yes, him. He cana enter. But I don'ta want to be disturbed by nobody else, for whatever reasons, not evena Joe Greco."

"Yes, certainly, don Antony." the small girlish voice answered.

The man switched off the intercom and, still continuing to fuck the boy, asked him, "You are not annoyed if I havea Chris come now, are you?"

"As... you... like... don Antony..."

"Sure," the man simply said, continuing to hammer the boy with gusto.

Soon there was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?"

"I'm D'Angelo, don Antony."

"Come in, come in, anda shut the door behinda you."

Chris entered and stopped for a moment, with an unbelieving expression, to look at the man who was fucking the boy. Then he shut the door and remained there, staring at the scene.

"Draw nearer, Chris... You are used to it, aren't you? It shoulda not amaze you. I havea a good news for you, Chris. I possibly don't needa any more you services ina my bed, as now I havea possibly found something better, without offence. You cana go back to fuck witha my son, if he still wants you."

"Are you sacking me, don Antony?"

"Don't talka bullshit! You always worka for me. I just don'ta need any more you in my bed, I'vea found fresh meat. Go to givea the good news to Robert, run. And shuta the door when you leave."

Chris looked at the boy, then went out.

The boss, as he came just a short while before, continued for a long while that strong thrust, but finally he reached his second orgasm. Then he withdrew, tidied himself, and sat again in his armchair with a sated expression.

"You cana tidy youself now. And comea to sit here, in front of me."

"All right, don Antony."

"I'd say you passeda the test. So, listen, my proposal is dis -- as long as you are my toy-boy, your father will nota pay me any interest rate. I'll freezea his debt. But the day whena you are no longer my toy-boy, he willa pay me all the arrears, interests included, everything. Are you game?"

"No. If you sack me, it is not right that my father finds himself worst than now."

"You havea guts to answer me with a no!"

"It seems to me that we are still bargaining. You wanted to test me, and you say I passed the test. But for my part, I have not yet decided anything. I want safe guarantees."

"And what if I now tella you that I gota my fun, dat you can also go... you willa have gotten nothing at all, will you?"

"Yes, to be fucked by you, before you also fuck my father in another way."

The man burst out in laughter. "I likea you boy! Well, I'll makea my lawyer write down a contract. All legal. You'll worka for me as long as I want, twenty four hours per day, three hundred and sixty-five days per year. Ifa you leave, you father will pay me all he owes, interest included, everything. But if I sacka you, you father willa find himself completely freeda from any debt witha me. Do you accept, now?"

"Sure, because I will never leave, and I will do whatever you'll ask me."

"All you life long? Dis is whata you risk."

"Right. Add a clause that if I die, my father will be freed from all his debts towards you."

"Yes, but... what ifa you commit suicide?"

"There is not such a danger. You have to trust me."

"If you suicide, we cana say that it is likea if you left. Don't you think this right?"

"No. A murder can easily be made to look like a suicide. It would be a child's game for you or for your men."

"But who tells me thata you really wouldn't commit suicide?"

"You still don't know me. But, even if this happened, I think that I will pay with my life my father's debt. Is that not enough for you?"

"Well... I tink it is."

"A last clause -- my family must never know that I am your... toy-boy, as you say."

"Agreed. I'll havea the contract ready. Comea back here tomorrow morning and, oncea you'va signed da contract, you'll remaina here, you'll not go backa home any more. All right?"

"Yes. Two more things. First, give me an invitation note or they will never let me in."

"Yes..."

"Second, tomorrow morning, after we sign the contract, I must have time to go to put my copy of the contract in a safe place. And don't have anyone follow me. It will be my guarantee that if I die my father will be freed, or else the contract will come out."

"Do you continue to puta conditions?"

"Wouldn't you do it, in my place? I am renouncing my life. I have to take precautions, I think."

"Yes. I likea you, boy. You are afraid of nothing. All right, I accepta also dis second condition, you havea my word. But I warn you, don't pulla too much da rope with me."

Silvio was shown to the hall. With each step he felt the piercing pain in his backside, but he didn't show it. He looked at his watch -- it was already noon. Taking the underground, he traveled toward his father's shop. Whoever looked at him could see only another of the city's many high school students without guessing that the boy had just been raped or that he was about to make a dramatic change to his own life. Reaching the shop, he breathed a sigh of relief seeing it was still open.

From behind the counter, Maria looked at him surprised. "Silvio, shouldn't you be at school at this time?"

"Where is Dad?"

"In the back, preparing the inventory. He says it has to be ready before he goes to meet don Antony Russo."

"How is he?"

"How do you want him to be... in pieces. But why aren't you at school? What's up?"

"Nothing. I'll tell you later... And Giovanni?"

"Dad sent him to bargain with the wholesaler to see if he will take back part of the stock..."

Silvio went in the back room and found his father at his desk, the account books all around him.

"Hi Dad. Put away those books, I have to talk with you."

"No, I have to end it... But what are you doing here? Why aren't you at school? Is there some problem?"

"No, Dad, put away these books and listen to me."

"What has happened?"

"Nothing, Dad, don't worry. All is right. I have important news that will make you feel better..."

"I don't understand... what are you talking about?"

"Dad, this morning I didn't go to school. I went instead to talk with don Antony Russo."

"You? And why? Did you really talk with him?"

"Yes, he received me. I proposed him a business deal. He accepted. From tomorrow morning on I'll go to work for him, at his place. He will freeze your debt. You will not owe him even a cent, as long as I'll work for him. Your problems are over, Dad."

"Working for him? At his place? What kind of job?"

"It is kind of general. Twenty four hours per day at his disposal. That's why I have to go to live at his place. I'll have to follow him when he travels. I will travel a lot... it will be a good job, you see. Of course he will not pay me, but he will give me food and room and clothing. It will be more than enough for me. And you, until I would leave, you have not to pay him not even a dollar. And I will not leave, be sure. I like the job I have to do. I'll see the world, meet important people. Moreover, if he sacks me, your debt will be erased. All is resolved, Dad, all resolved."

"But... and your studies?"

"I would anyway have had to stop them, right? So, at least, Giuseppe can finish his university. And the sisters can go to school. And all of you will be well. Do you see that don Antony is less merciless than what you thought?"

"It still seems to me so... unbelievable..."

"Dad, last night I dreamed of Mom... she put her hand on my head... and she said I had to go to meet don Antony. It is Mom who is helping us, don't you think so?"

"Possibly... Why didn't you tell me this morning?"

"I was not sure I would succeed. I didn't want to deceive you. Moreover, wouldn't you have insisted not to go, that it would have been useless?"

"Yes, it's right. And don Antony accepted your proposal?"

"Yes. He says that he likes the idea that a Di Stefano works again for the Russo, like in old times."

"Yes... the old times... But he... he is not don Matteo."

"It is less bad than you thought, Dad. Now I have to do a couple of things, prepare a suitcase. We will meet tonight at supper, Dad. And put away these books."

First of all Silvio went to meet Maria's fiancee Sven, a friend of Giovanni's who had also become his friend.

"I need your help. Please, come with me. Let's go to rent a safe-deposit box in a bank. They won't allow me, as I am still a minor."

"What for? Do you have a hidden treasure?" his friend asked him laughing.

"No, Sven. Tomorrow morning I will give you an important document and a memorandum I'll write. I found a job... somewhat peculiar. You'll probably never meet me again. I'll keep in touch regularly with my family. Since you often visit my home, you will know if they haven't heard from me in, say, three months, or if you hear I'm dead, I want you to promise to take that document and my memorandum and go at once to see the best lawyer you can find. Do you promise me that?"

"But... what's happening?"

"I can't explain it to you, Sven, I'm sorry. And my family must know nothing about any of this, unless eventually you need to give it all to a lawyer. Will you do it for me?"

"Are you in some danger?"

"No, I swear. But who knows? Possibly nothing will happen. Please, if you promise me you will take care of it... and you'd have to care for it possibly for years and years... I will be more certain about things. It's the biggest favor I can ask, and I'll never be able to repay you for it."

"I swear to you I'll do what you ask me," Sven said, struck by the extreme seriousness and gravity of his young friend's expression.

"Thank you, my friend."

On the following morning, after taking the contract together with Sven to the bank, Silvio moved to don Antony Russo's home.

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER THREE

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