Blatino Str8 Trade: Alpha Thugs Downlow (Ultimate Str8 Trade Book 1) (6 page)

CHAPTER THREE

Abarcar Alrededor

The next time Walter got some action at work, it was almost two weeks later -- the shop went through a rather dry spell. He had gotten discouraged about it. The next time it happened, though, it was a Latino, which was rare. The City Barbershop was frequented almost exclusively by black men.

Of course, Alfonso was black too. He was Mexican, and about as dark-skinned as any man could be. He was terrifying from the moment he walked in. He was a great hulking beast of a man, well over six feet tall and crawling with tattoos. He dressed as a cholo, though his khakis were ill-fitting and his shirt was torn.

Of course, there were a lot of thugs who were big and low-class; a lot of them were mean, or at least seemed mean. Alfonso was different. He glowered, exuding violence. The entire shop fell silent when he entered, and no one spoke until he sat in Walter's chair and began getting his hair cut.

He was there with three other young Latin men, presumably part of the same gang -- Walter was no gangbanger, but he gathered from tattoos and other clues that these men were members of Cartel Noveno, a powerful local organization. The three younger men, however, had shaved heads (as almost all cholos did), so they weren't there for haircuts.

They spoke in rapid Spanish. Walter wasn't fluent, but he knew enough to pick up the gist. Alfonso had just gotten out of prison, which probably accounted for his intimidating demeanor. These three younger cholos were taking him out to a strip club, promising to get him cocaine and private dances. That was why Alfonso was getting a haircut -- he wanted to look his best for the ladies.

When one of the younger cholos got a phone call, conversation died down. Alfonso bristled as Walter finished his haircut. It sounded like he did not want to hear what the other young man had said on the phone.

"Tendremos que espera
r
," was what the cholo said. There was more, but Walter didn't quite pick it up. That mean
t
we will have to wai
t
, from which Walter deduced they needed someone to pick them up to go to the strip club. That was probably why they came here -- it was the nearest barbershop to the pickup point.

"
So
y
horny, niggas," Alfonso said. He flared his nostrils. "You promise me. You say by four o'clock, I will have titty in my hand. I stay quiet for this organization fo' years
,
ess
e
, and-"

"
Si, si, si,
"
said the younger cholo. "We are delivering everything you were promised. He is just late. He has to borrow his baby mama's car."

"This is the City Barbershop," said another. He smiled guiltily and motioned to Walter, who blanched. "There is always a puta here."

Alfonso straightened up. He looked past Walter, as though he thought there was a real prostitute hiding behind him. He then realized that the cholos were referring to Walter. Walter, for the first time, felt unsure -- would he go through with this? Alfonso seemed like the kind of man who might well fuck him and then kick his ass.

Regardless, Alfonso shook his head. "I have been fucking male bitches for four years. I want to wait for a female. I want the pussy."

Walter breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure if he would have accepted if Alfonso had been willing, but he was glad to have the option taken from him. He took Alfonso's cash and handed him a receipt as though he hadn't heard what they were talking about.

"Will be half an hour," said the cholo, grimacing as though he knew Alfonso would be mad.

Alfonso roared in frustration. "You said four o'clock-"

"That's really early for a strip club!"

Alfonso frowned. He smacked Walter's ass so hard Walter yelped. He wrapped his strong fingers around Walter's neck, not quite squeezing, but testing him, to see how much he fought back. Walter squirmed instinctively. Alfonso's hands roamed up and down Walter's body, squeezed his asscheeks and even openly pushed into Walter's pants, where he gave his cock a squeeze.

There were some shocked murmurings -- nobody expected a straight cholo to touch someone's cock. But no one stopped him or said anything out-loud about it.

Then before Walter even knew what was happening, he was in the back room with Alfonso. His heart pounded. He hadn't ever really changed his mind and decided to do this, but now that he had started, he didn't want to stop. Alfonso had assumed he wanted to, and Walter couldn't convince himself to say no.

Alfonso dropped his khakis to his ankles. He advanced on Walter as though going to beat him up, and Walter dropped to his knees.

"Nah," Alfonso said. "I'm fuckin' yo' ass, puta. No oral." He got behind Walter and nearly ripped his pants to shreds as he bared Walter's ass. Alfonso had a thick, uncut prick that made Walter shudder with fear and anticipation. "Gonna wreck yo' guts, bitch," Alfonso said. Then he leaned in and whispered in Walter's ear, "Don't worry, I won't hurt ya."

He slammed his dick in without a word of warning. It was outrageously thick and rock-hard, and it made Walter shudder with sudden agony.

There was no sound from the main room. Ordinarily they always made jokes -- even if there were women and children up front, they'd make knowing comments and laugh. They'd knock on the door and run away before anyone answered.

At first he wasn't sure he could take every inch of incredible Latin cock, but after a few more pumps of Alfonso's hips, Walter began to loosen up. Then Alfonso hit his prostate, and Walter moaned with pleasure. Shudders of sexual bliss ricocheted from Walter's ass to his dick to his spine and up to his tongue, which clicked against the roof of his mouth as he moaned.

Much to his surprise, Alfonso's hands began roaming over Walter's body -- he must have become highly used to gay sex in prison; he mewled as though he enjoyed feeling Walter's smooth chest. He pulled Walter's shirt off and caressed his smooth chest.

As his fucking grew more and more intense, Alfonso slowly sunk to the ground. He gritted his teeth and pounded Walter on the floor, wrapping both arms around Walter's body, and curling his feet around Walter's legs to keep him immobilized.

Walter writhed in pain and agony. Once it became clear that Alfonso's time in prison left him open to a little man-on-man affection, Walter reared his head back to lick Alfonso's neck. When even that didn't provoke a reaction, Walter kissed him.

Alfonso kissed back, and even shoved his tongue into Walter's mouth. Before Walter could even process this, Alfonso's hands roamed down to Walter's cock and gave it a stroke. Walter's whole body spasmed

"Don't tell no one 'bout this, nigga," Alfonso said with a growl. He continued stroking Walter off as he humped, and Walter contorted, unable to control his body's reaction.

"I w-w-won't," Walter said, his voice wavering with the intensity of the fucking.

Alfonso didn't stop stroking Walter off even after Walter came. He didn't seem to mind the cum streaming from his fingers, and he cackled with laughter as Walter writhed on his dick. Then he smeared the cum from his hands onto Walter's chest and neck.

It was only then that Alfonso allowed himself to nut. He lowered his body onto Walter's, his heavy muscles pressing down on Walter's back. He breathed heavy, snorting as he shot his load into Walter's guts.

"Take it, bitch, take it..." Alfonso said, his voice low and melting as he finally came, sounding almost romantic despite the intimidating nature of his words. "You gonna take my nut, bitch, don't let none of it spill." He laid there for what felt like a long time, pinning Walter to the ground as he swayed his hips, working his load up into a frothy mess.

"Ah, fuck yeah..." Walter muttered.

"Good job, bitch," Alfonso said as he finally pulled out. He pulled his pants back on. Walter gathered his breath and then moved to stand, but Alfonso barked at him to stay down. "Bitches don't get up and clean theyself until they owner is done. You stay there and let my juices marinate in yo' ass. You can get up when I close the door." He slowly put his clothes on, and stood there for a moment watching the cum dry on Walter's ass.

Then he turned around and walked back into the front room. Once he was gone, Walter let out a sigh of relief. He loved every moment of that, but at the same time, he was glad that it was done.

CHAPTER FOUR

Hat and Jacket

By the time he had worked there a month, the other guys at the City Barbershop had made Walter feel at home. They didn't seem to mind that he was gay, aside from occasional ribbing. The least friendly person around was Lyle Hartley, the owner -- he wasn't mean, and he wasn't specifically hostile towards Walter, but he was unfriendly and distracted whenever he was around.

He was also sexy. Walter got nervous every time he came by. Walter had always had kind of a daddy-fetish, and Lyle was a burly man in his early forties, with an athletic frame and just the right amount of padding. Chest hair protruded from the edges of his shirt, and his fleshy arms brimmed with power the one time he brushed past Walter close enough that Walter could feel his body slide by.

So when Lyle called Walter into the backroom, Walter's knees went limp. His mouth watered. The other barbers glanced at him but avoided making eye contact -- that was an odd reaction, since there were no children in the shop, Walter would have expected some catcalls and snide comments. Either they were afraid or respectful of Lyle, or, he thought as he walked in, they knew something he didn't.

"Yo, I ain't on the downlow," Lyle said, standing there in the backroom -- fully clothed -- with his hands on his hips. "But I got a favor to ask you."

"You sure you ain't swingin' low?" Walter said, feeling he had to at least try. His heart thumped in his chest as he grabbed at Lyle's cock through his slacks. Lyle didn't move away, but he did shake his head and say no firmly enough that Walter let go. Walter licked his lips, hoping to entice him.

"I ain't down with that," Lyle said with a sneer. "That ain't the favor. I mean... it is, but not with me, and there's a catch. You know that nigga Ribbon? He's a pimp and a loan shark and, I dunno, prolly a dealer. He into a bit of everything. He comin' over here today," Lyle said. "I owe him money, and I can't pay right now. I can pay next month. But I got a plan."

In essence, the plan was simple -- Ribbon was notorious in collecting debts through sexual extortion. He'd demand a man pay off his interest through blowjobs, or even anal sex, performed in humiliating ways (often public). That was what he had threatened last time Lyle had come up short.

Walter agreed despite his anxiety. This would be almost exactly like one of his most common and most intense fantasies -- he loved being dominated by thugs, and a hardcore pimp/loan shark was his ideal partner. If Ribbon was the pimp he had seen around, he was ungodly sexy, as most pimps usually were.

But when it actually began, Walter was terrified. Of course, that was part of his pleasure, and it made him rock-hard from the moment Ribbon sauntered in. When Ribbon began talking with Lyle in hushed tones near the register, Walter's heart pumped. His anxiety worked within their plan, however, so he didn't need to hide it. He did need to hide his homosexuality, which wasn't very easy for Walter. He wasn't flamboyant, but he wasn't used to hiding it either.

"Don't you gimme that shit, nigga! You come up short cuz you chose to come up short. I gave you money to save this story, cuz I believe in it, and I wanna support this community," Ribbon said loudly, attracting attention from everyone in the shop. They all knew what was about to happen, but they didn't let on that they knew. Ribbon was rather short, but wide and powerfully built. He had broad shoulders underneath a purple suit jacket, and he wore jeweled rings on all ten fingers.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you," Lyle said. "Just relax, nigga. Don't hurt 'im-"

"If some nigga lost all the money I gave you cuz he bettin' like a gamblin' fool, you best believe I's gonna hurt him. It's either him or you, motherfucker. One of you's gonna get punished today. It can either be the nigga who lost my money, or it can be the nigga who gonna pay it back. Yo' choice."

"I'll take it," Walter said. Everyone looked at him. He swallowed nervously. "You don't need to protect me, Lyle." He approached Ribbon, who frowned at him. "I'm the one who lost your money, Ribbon."

Ribbon stepped closer to him. "You... You look like a pussy, boy. I can't believe Lyle lets a nigga like you handle money for this shop." He paused, took off his hat and placed it in Walter's hand. He sneered at him. "Gonna treat you like a pussy now, boy. Close those blinds, Lyle, and lock the door so no kids come in. Any niggas come to the door, you let them in so everyone see this pussy get fucked."

Lyle rushed to do so. Shadows filled the barbershop as the barbers and a handful of customers clustered in the opposite end of the shop. They didn't look away though.

"You hold onto my hat and jacket," Ribbon said, placing his purple coat in Walter's free hand. "Hold it nice, don't fold it or wrinkle it or let it touch the ground. I will stab you, motherfucker."

"Yes, Ribbon." Walter didn't need to pretend to be nervous, that was a natural reaction to the situation, and Ribbon apparently took his anxiety as shame as well. There was no way Ribbon would do this if he knew Walter was gay -- the whole point was punishment, after all. Walter hadn't tried to pass as straight since his grandmother died.

It soon became apparent why Ribbon wanted Walter to hold onto his hat and suit-jacket -- aside from being humiliating, it was going to make getting fucked more difficult because Walter couldn't grab onto anything for support. He couldn't bend over; he could only stand awkwardly, holding his legs wide.

"Spread yo' legs, bitch," Ribbon said as he undid Walter's belt and pulled his underwear down. Walter grimaced and did so. He choked back a sob of fear, which made Ribbon cackle with glee.

"You gonna cry, nigga? It's okay if you gonna cry. I use bitch-tears as lube, nigga," Ribbon said, pausing for a few seconds with his hot cock throbbing in between Walter's cheeks.

Then he pushed his cock right in. For a moment, Walter thought that wouldn't be enough, that Ribbon would realize he wasn't a virgin. Walter had a plan for that -- he'd just say he fucked around on the downlow before; he could even claim a different loan shark had fucked him as well in order to collect on a debt. Since Walter was pretending to be a gambling addict, that would have been an entirely believable claim.

But if Ribbon noticed, he didn't say anything. He pounded away at Walter's ass, and smiled at the other men in the shop, who watched with shock and dismay all over their faces. They winced when Ribbon slammed the last few inches of his dick in all at once, and Walter roared in pain. There was a thin thread of pleasure as well though, growing thicker and stronger with every thrust of Ribbon's crotch.

His knees went weak, and he nearly dropped the jacket. Walter gasped and held on. The lower part just barely brushed the ground, but he didn't think Ribbon noticed that.

"Be careful, nigga, you almost made a serious mistake," Ribbon said. He chuckled as Walter writhed beneath his touch. "Whose dick is up in ya gut?"

"Ribbon's!"

"That's right, bitch. Whose bitch is ya?"

"I'm Ribbon's bitch!"

He stopped humping with his cock all the way in. He stayed there until Walter winced and wiggled. Ribbon spat on Walter's back. "I'm gonna nut in a minute. When you feel my nut inside you, you start sayin'
,
I'm Ribbon's bitc
h
. You say it over and over until I finish shootin'."

"Yes, Ribbon."

Then he slammed his dick in and out, seemingly trying to make it as painful as he could for Walter. It was arduous, and Walter screamed -- he didn't have to pretend to be in agony. But behind the pain his prostate tingled with pre-orgasmic feelings; he'd have to jack off in the bathroom when this was over, he thought, since he couldn't very well do it in front of Ribbon.

The more he wiggled in pain, the more Ribbon grunted with satisfaction. "You sorry 'bout losing my money, deadbeat?" he asked over and over. Walter tried his best to answer, but all that came out was  a formless mass of syllables. It didn't sound like Ribbon really expected an answer, or if he did, he accepted cries of pain as answer enough.

"This'll learn ya, nigguh," he said, mouth grim and lips pursed as though it hurt him to fuck Walter. "You think I like this shit? Huh? It's the only thing I can get from deadbeats that they can't sell off, so sometimes this is the only way I can get my interest paid. You don't like it, nigguh, next time don't be a fuckin' deadbeat." Then he paused and grunted. His muscles shuddered beneath the purple shirt and tie he still wore.

When Walter felt that first drop of cum inside him, he had to stifle an orgasmic moan so he wouldn't sound gay. He only barely remembered Ribbon's command in time.

"I'm Ribbon's bitch! I'm Ribbon's bitch! I'm Ribbon's bitch!"

As he said it, his voice increasingly frenetic and pinched, the rest of the shop nervously laughed. They were all afraid they could be in Walter's position one day, so while this was the kind of show they might enjoy, they found this one in particular nerve-wracking and off-putting.

His cock limpening inside Walter as the last few drops of cum dribbled in, Ribbon pulled on his hair. He dragged Walter around in a circle, aiming his face at the counter and cash register. There was a box of tissues there as well.

"Get some tissues outta there," Ribbon said. "And wipe my dick off."

His eyes watering, Walter did as he was told. Ribbon didn't pull his cock out until Walter was trying to clean off the root of Ribbon's cock. Then tremendous relief flooded him. Walter took a deep breath, glad to have the pain gone. Now he just wanted to get into the bathroom to take care of his own hardon. He quickly wiped cum and assjuice off Ribbon's rod, remembering to gag only at the last second so it would look like he didn't enjoy touching ass-dripping cockmeat.

"You learn yo' lesson, boy?"

"Yes, Ribbon," Walter said. He handed back the jacket and hat as Ribbon got himself situated again.

"Good. I be back in one month, Lyle. You got one month, then I'm gonna take this debt outt
a
yo
'
ass."