Chapter 5
Chapter five
Carlo
He is insane. Completely and utterly fucking batshit bonkers. Abducting me was one thing, but marriage, children? Talking about being some kind of deranged psycho tradwife?
He has seriously lost the plot.
I need to get out of here. As soon as possible.
“Oh! Is that the time?” Ginni says, looking at his wrist.
My blood pressure spikes. My headache intensifies. Ginni isn’t wearing a watch. He is staring at the bare skin of his wrist.
But at least he has stopped talking about kids and dinner parties and me fucking his tight little ass over the kitchen island.
“What time is it?” I ask. I need to keep him on this track. It is much safer.
He looks up at me and hits me with a truly dazzling smile. One that lights up his impossibly blue eyes.
“It’s blowjob o’clock!”
My mouth opens. It snaps shut again. “What?”
“Blowjob o’clock!” Ginni exclaims happily. “Part of our new routine. Coffee. Breakfast. Quiet time while I tidy up. Then a lovely blowjob for you so you can start the day really happy, and with all your needs met.”
I shake my head to try to clear it. To try to chase away this bewildering situation. It does no good. I’m still in Ginni’s basement being threatened with blowjob o’clock.
“I don’t need a blowjob,” I say. Words I never thought that I, or any healthy man, would ever say.
“Of course you do!” beams Ginni. “You need one every day.”
“Every day?” I repeat helplessly.
Oh lord. There are a million men out there who would think I was the crazy one. A beautiful twenty-one-year-old femboy is declaring he wants to blow me every day. And I’m objecting.
Maybe I’m the problem.
I take a deep breath. Of course I’m not the fucking problem. Jesus Christ. Is talk of blowjobs really enough to make me forget about drugging and kidnapping and being chained up? What kind of caveman am I? I’m better than this. I’m better than most men.
Running a club with exotic dancers has shown me that most men are animals. Incapable of self-restraint.
When I get out of here, I’m going to have to make sure Ginni is safe. If he had abducted someone else, I dread to think what would have happened. The world is full of bastards who would take advantage of him.
“I don’t need a blowjob,” I say.
He listened to me earlier, after the shower. He said, okay, and started babbling about breakfast. So he might listen to me now.
Ginni fixes me with a rather stern expression. “Yes, you do.”
He stands up and peers down at me. He is wearing a very short skirt today.
He must have changed into it while I was in the shower.
I’ve been trying to ignore it. Just like I’ve been trying to ignore his absurdly short crop top.
The top is white and barely covers his nipples.
It’s leaving his belly completely naked. His belly button is taunting me.
How does anyone have such a flat stomach? Such flawless skin? Even when I was twenty-one I didn’t look that perfect.
I tear my eyes away, only to be confronted with his skirt. It’s black and only barely covers anything. His long legs are bare. And incredible. They are better than all the dancers that work for me in my club.
If Ginni was a girl and walked into my office for an audition, I’d be shouting ‘hired!’ right about now.
How is it even genetically possible to have legs like that? It should be illegal. Not that I’ve ever given legality much consideration in anything that I do.
Hmm, maybe that’s the problem. The whole reason I’m here. God, the universe, whoever is in charge, is punishing me for all my misdeeds. Sending me to my judgment by allowing a ridiculously pretty femboy to chain me to his bed.
My thoughts screech to a halt as Ginni takes hold of the blanket. I’m still buck naked under here.
“Ginni!” I warn, but the little psycho ignores me. He whips the cover off like a magician whisking off a tablecloth.
His blue eyes go straight to my cock. His entire face lights up. Like all of his Christmases have come at once.
He licks his lips. He kneels on the bed, and the mattress dips slightly.
My arms reflexively pull against the restraints. It is as futile as the first thousand times I tried it.
“Don’t you dare!” I snarl.
Ginni pauses. His eyes widen and his lips lift up in pout. “Don’t you like blowjobs?”
“Of course I fucking like blowjobs!” I bellow before I stop myself.
Ginni smiles, slow and seductive.
“It doesn’t mean I want one from you!” I snap.
Oh shit. Not antagonizing the nutter who has kidnapped you is probably rule number one in the how to survive an abduction handbook. And besides that very good piece of advice, hurting Ginni’s feelings makes me feel like the worst kind of monster.
Ginni tilts his head like a bird. “Yes you do. Stop being silly. I see the way you look at me.”
“I don’t look at you. Not like that.”
His smile is devastating. “You do. The first time was when I was making hot chocolate. That’s when you finally noticed me.”
All the air in my lungs vanishes. I knew exactly what he is talking about. The precise moment. The specific day. The point in time where the universe tilted and never righted itself.
He’d been seventeen, maybe eighteen. Home for Christmas break from his first year at university.
I’d walked into the kitchen looking for Marco and found Ginni instead, standing at the stove making hot chocolate and wearing an oversized sweater that somehow managed to be both completely modest and absolutely devastating.
He’d looked up when I walked in, smiled that bright, uncomplicated smile, and asked if I wanted some.
I’d said no and left the room immediately. Spent the rest of the evening avoiding the kitchen and trying not to think about the way that sweater had slipped off his shoulder or the way he’d looked at me like I was someone worth smiling at.
That was probably the beginning. The moment I realized that Marco’s little brother had grown up into someone dangerous to my peace of mind.
Now he is dangerous to my safety. Destructive to my freedom. Detrimental to everything I thought I knew about myself.
“See? I knew you remembered.” Ginni’s smile is nuclear.
He positions himself between my forcibly spread legs. Kneeling on the mattress. His expression is sweet and innocent. His eyes are anything but.
He bends down. Metal clangs against metal as I try to free myself. An absurd thought flies through my mind. Ginni is bending over now, and his skirt is so short. Anyone standing at the end of the bed would be able to see his underwear. If he is wearing any.
Then Ginni pokes his tongue out and gives my cock a kitten lick. A barely there touch that is still hot, wet and annihilating.
I grunt. My hips move and blood rushes to fill my cock.
Ginni makes a sound of pure delighted glee. He licks me again. One long lick all the way from root to tip. A caress along my rapidly filling cock.
“Fuck! How did you learn to do that?”
Marco’s little brother should not be good at sucking cock. That’s all kinds of fucked up. He is unhinged, but he is innocent.
I know he is good at handjobs, a fact I’m desperately trying to delete from my memory, but blowjobs are much more intimate. Demeaning for the giver, even though I know I shouldn’t think like that. But hey, I was raised in an Italian mafia family. Toxic masculinity should be my middle name.
And I fucking hate the thought that Ginni has debased himself like this for other men. It is infuriating that any man had the audacity to use a Torrini in this way.
“YouTube,” he says happily. Then he wets his puffy lips.
“W… what?” I stutter.
“I learned this from YouTube.”
That’s it. I’m out of words. I’m never regaining the power of speech.
“There are YouTube tutorials on everything,” he says happily. “You can learn anything you want.”
I stare at him.
“Of course, for blowjobs they have to use fruit and be careful about what words they use.”
I blink. If he is right and he is not recalling some fever dream delusion, then this is much better than him learning from actual doing.
“So, no glory holes at uni?” I ask.
Ginni scowls ferociously. “What do you take me for? I love you, remember? No one else.”
“You said you experimented at uni.”
“It is so adorable that you are jealous,” Ginni grins.
I open my mouth to reply but he lowers his head and all my thoughts disintegrate. There is only Ginni’s wet, soft tongue on my cock.
Pleasure surges. My eyes roll back. All words of protest die on my lips. Ginni has set his mind on this, and it feels so damn good. I’m going to hell. And the journey is going to be euphoric.
Ginni licks and licks. Each glide of his tongue curls my toes and swells my cock.
I’ve never had a man blow me before. Ginni is only getting started, and I can already tell it’s going to be amazing.
The best blowjob of my life. Does this mean I am gay?
Or that men are better at this because they have cocks of their own?
Or is it only Ginni who has this effect on me?
My cock is fully hard now. Aching and throbbing. Wet with Ginni’s spit.
He licks his way up to my tip. His plump lips wrap around my sensitive head. An unholy noise pours out of me. Shameless and depraved.
Ginni hums in appreciation, and the reverberations nearly kill me. I forget how to breathe. How to exist.
His lips roll down an inch of my length. My cock sinks into the soft heat of his mouth. Part of me is inside Giovanni Torrini. Life will never be the same.
Nevermind the mind-numbing pleasure that’s altering me at a cellular level, everything has changed because Marco is going to kill me.
He is never going to believe his waif-like little brother overpowered me.
And to be honest, I think I might rather die than suffer the humiliation of him knowing the truth.
I’ve been turned into a helpless sex slave by a twenty-one-year-old unhinged femboy. My pride has been destroyed. My manliness is seriously questionable.
Ginni’s head lowers and lowers. He is taking more and more of me. Any minute now, he is going to have to stop. His gag reflex is going to kick in. I’m not small. Definitely not beginner size.
Suddenly, I’m crying out. Intense pleasure is burning through me. Lighting up all my nerve endings.
I’m in Ginni’s throat and it is tight and perfect. The crazy boy doesn’t seem to have a gag reflex at all.
He takes all of me. His nose brushing against my pubes. Every inch of my cock is enveloped in soft flesh. It feels so damn good.
Fuck. I want to take hold of his hair. Seize control. Guide him. Fuck his face.
But the cuffs are as secure as ever. I’m powerless. The only thing I can do is lie here and take it. Take whatever Ginni decides to give to me.
I should hate it. I should feel nothing but violated. So why have I never been more aroused? Why is lust thrumming through my veins hot enough to burn?
Ginni bobs his head. Up and down. Lips forming a tight seal. Adding friction to all the other wonderful sensations.
I was going to close my eyes. I was going to imagine it was a girl. I was going to survive.
But I can’t look away. I’m transfixed. Ginni’s dark head bobbing on my cock. When he is at the top, I can glimpse his pale perfect cheeks, the obscene stretch of his wet lips. His long dark lashes resting against his smooth skin. His serene expression. As if he is performing something holy.
Suddenly, his eyes snap open. Brightest blue. Dazzling. Ginni’s eyes. Ginni’s eyes full of lust and pleasure. Ginni’s eyes when his mouth is stuffed full of my cock.
I grunt, and empty my load down Giovanni Torrini’s throat.
Fuck my life.