A Night to Dismember (Foxxo & TNT)

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Eric's & Aaron's Evening Attire

Versace, Full-Length, Black Fox Fur w. Leather Trim
White, Double-Long, Silk Scarf (Not Pictured)
Black, Lamb-Soft Leather Gloves (Not Pictured)
Tom Ford, Black, Shawl-Lapel Tuxedo with Black Pants
Black & Gold Silk Suspenders (Not Pictured)
Black, Satin, Pleated Cummerbund (Not Pictured)
Red Lycra Boxer Briefs
Tom Ford, Satin, Hand-Tied Bow Tie
Boss, White, Spread Collar, Fitted Dress Shirt with French Cuffs
Onyx & Pearl Four-Stud & Cufflink Set
Black & Red Silk Dress Socks
Gucci, Black Evening Pumps
Black & Red Silk Pocket Square
Thorsten, Black & Red Ceramic Ring
Black Diamond & Titanium Pinkie Ring
Rolex, Black Stainless Steel Wristwatch
Stainless Steel Money Clip w. Amex Black Card & ID (Not Pictured, In Right Jacket Pocket)
Cell Phone w. Stainless Steel Case (Not Pictured, In Left Jacket Pocket)
Stainless Steel, Compact Hair Comb (Not Pictured, In Coat Pocket)
Stainless Steel Tin of Designer Mints (Not Pictured, In Coat Pocket)
Travel Bottle of Tom Ford Cologne (Not Pictured, In Coat Pocket)

Versace, Full-Length, Silver Fox Fur
White, Double-Long Silk Scarf (Not Pictured)
Dove Grey, Lamb-Soft Leather Gloves (Not Pictured)
Ralph Lauren, White Shawl-Lapel Tuxedo with Black Pants & Vest
White & Silver Silk Suspenders (Not Pictured)
Boss, White, Arrow-Collar, Fitted Dress Shirt with French Cuffs
Ralph Lauren, Black, Satin & Silk, Hand-Tied Bow Tie
Baby Blue Satin Boxer Briefs
Black & White Silk Pocket Square
Onyx, Pearl & Topaz-Tinted Four-Stud & Cufflink Set
Silver & Blue Topaz Ring
Silver, Diamond & Blue Topaz Pinkie Ring
Black & White Silk Dress Socks
Black Velvet Evening Slippers
Silver Money Clip w. 3k in Cash & ID (Not Pictured, In Left Jacket Pocket)
Cell Phone w. Silver Case (Not Pictured, In Right Jacket Pocket)
Silver & Pearl Compact Hair Comb (Not Pictured, In Coat Pocket)
Silver Tin of Designer Mints (Not Pictured, In Coat Pocket)
Travel Bottle of Ralph Lauren Cologne (Not Pictured, In Coat Pocket)

Just Outside of The Russian Tea Room, New York City - A Random Friday Evening in the Winter of 2019

Eric Kennedy was one thoroughly frustrated alpha male.

Not only had he made the mistake of showing up for his 'date' nearly a hour early, but he was arriving essentially empty-handed, due to the fact that he had been unable to secure the two tickets to the play that he had so boldly and, he supposed, somewhat foolishly insisted he could. He was a Kennedy after all, and a rather good-looking, well-built one at that, standing at six-foot-three with two-hundred and thirty pounds of hard-earned, gym-crafted muscle at his disposal. Why wouldn't he be able to make such things happen with relative ease? If his killer looks and smooth tongue couldn't get him what he wanted, his money clip stuffed with an impressive sum of crisp, one-hundred dollar bills would do the trick. But no. Neither had managed to work tonight, because the turd sitting behind the box office window hadn't seemed impressed by either of these things, which, quite obviously, annoyed the shit out of him. This wasn't like him not to get his way.

Eric always got his way.

Pacing back and forth now, just outside of the world-famous Russian Tea Room - having finally given up at the Longacre Theater - the impeccably dressed male did his best to calm himself down. There was nothing he could do at the point. He was simply going to have to take the hit to his flawless reputation. He and his 'date,' Aaron Becker, would just have to entertain themselves some other way. Perhaps they would drop in at The Carnegie Club and enjoy a few imported cigars and top-shelf drinks? That could do the trick, regardless of the fact that the place would be packed, shoulder to shoulder, seeing that it was indeed a Friday night in New York City. They could also just go back to his luxury penthouse in the sky and do the exact same thing, seeing that he had both of those items neatly tucked away within his private collection, but that would certainly be a damn shame seeing that he had spent not only a lot of his precious time getting ready for tonight - what with all of the hours spent planning, procuring, and primping - but he had forked over a nice chunk of his weekly income to purchase himself the most exquisite formal attire money could buy.

As always, no detail was overlooked.

With his thick, jet black hair, bright green eyes, and chiseled features, Eric certainly struck an eye-catching, head-turning image, but with his expertly sculpted body suited up in such flawless, hand-tailored, designer clothes, there weren't many individuals, of any gender or sexual persuasion, who could resist not only casting him a favorable glance, but expressing their desire to interact with him on a far more personal level. Even now, as he waited for Aaron to arrive, he was getting more than a few salacious looks from those who passed him on the street. One guy in particular - a rather rough around the edges type - couldn't seem to get enough of him as he stared him down from his position at the mouth of a nearby alleyway. And while he certainly loved the attention, Eric couldn't help but wonder what the guy's deal was. So, instead of just letting him do his thing, Eric made his way over and simply struck up a casual conversation.

Why not? He had time to kill.

"Nice jacket," was all he initially said, as he eyed up the guy's well-worn leather coat that hugged his well-developed torso in all the right ways. "Distress it yourself or did you buy it that way?"

 

[Foxxo]

Frank had been leaning against the brick corner of the alley, just along the inside, watching guests mingle outside the tea room. A lot of potential cash all wandering around like headless chickens. He'd always been a bit bitter of those more affluent than him, and considering that encompassed quite a few people, Frank was bitter pretty often. There was one guy in particular who seemed to outclass most others standing at the entrance, or at least it appeared that way. There was always a guy like him, not matter where you went. The alpha. Or, at least, the alpha in a group full of pups. That sort of status meant nothing to the actual wolves.

Given his attire, it wasn't a surprise that most people tended to avoid mingling with him. A leather, slightly studded jacket, worn from use. A tattoo that ran from his ear down below the jacket. What it was you couldn't guess, but one could imagine there was a lot more going on beneath that leather. His hair was black shaggy, and slightly long. It was unkempt, but he wore it in such a way that made it look like it could have been intentional; it suited him. Frank wore well-fitted, dark jeans, and leather boots, also wore from age and use. His face was rough, and though it may look like he hadn't shaved in a few days, he shaped it that way. This rough, short beard was a point of pride for him.

It took the tall, well-built alpha pup a while, but finally he sauntered over to the corner Frank stood at. "No idea what you're talking about buddy." Frank barely batted an eye. Funny that these types always seemed to want to talk to somebody. Can't be seen being bored in front of such a nice establishment, with so many people around. That thought elicited a bit of a chuckle from Frank. He had this guy pegged the moment he appeared at the front entrance. As highly as he thought of himself, in a city such like this, his type was a dime a dozen. However, those were some damn fine clothes, and expensive.

"Got a reason for talking to the sketchy guy standing at the edge of a crowd?" Frank finally looked up. He'd been working a file over his nails, but put it away and blew on his fingers. Now his arms were crossed, and he stood leaning back against the corner. Surprisingly, even given his slanted posture while leaning, he didn't have to look up far at all to meet this man's gaze. He himself was tall, and well-built. Not that he'd show it off as much as this fancy lad. Frank's size had a practical use. It wasn't just for decoration.

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Smiling to himself, Eric had to give the guy credit. Why exactly was someone of his caliber conversing with someone who appeared to be leagues beneath him? They were clearly from two very different walks of life, but curiosity had gotten the better of him, what with all of the staring. That said, now that he was standing a mere foot or two away from the leather-clad thug, able to smell his raw musk, even his bad breath, he came to realize that the guy was exactly that - a thug.

Although...

"You wouldn't happen to be one of those scalper types?" he suddenly questioned, getting his hopes up that that was exactly who this guy was because why else would he be lingering on the 'edge of a crowd' as he himself put it? "You know, one of those guys who just happens to have the right pair of tickets, at the right time, for some ridiculously astronomical price?" he then mused, with a slight smirk, wondering what the odds actually were that this would be the case.

Never say never.

If so, he would pay handsomely, in cash even, but if not, oh well, no harm done. He would carry on with his evening, writing this brief conversation off as nothing more than a bad judgment call. It wasn't like he owed this guy even another minute of his valuable time. If he couldn't give him what he wanted, he would just walk away. Thugs like him were probably use to such rude behavior, seeing that they themselves were usually the ones to act like uncouth - and clearly unwashed - goons.

 

[Foxxo]

Frank smiled, as a few interpretations ran through his mind. This guy had probably thought getting into the tea room would take no more than a was of cash and a pearly grin. Certain things came to easily to certain types. That sense of bitterness was creeping up on him. This guy needed his eyes opened. Things weren't always going to go your way. Sometimes they would go the opposite way.

Believe it or not though, that's exactly why Frank was standing there. His boss had some connections to the owner, and as such a few tickets were always scalped on the side for a little extra on the top profits. Ushers, and those other employees working out front didn't know this though.

"Ya ya, I figured that's what you were looking for. Couldn't manage with just a pretty face hmm?" Frank shot up off the wall and pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket. He lit up and walked down the alley, gesturing to the well dressed man to follow.

"I got what you need, but it ain't going to be cheap. It never is." He continued to walk, not really caring whether or not he was followed. Oddly, it was that sort of attitude that usually resulted in him being followed.

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Taking a step back as the guy shoved off of the brick wall, Eric raised an eyebrow at his 'pretty face' comment. It wasn't often that he heard such words coming out of a man's mouth, especially one that looked as rough as this guy, but if allowing him to make whatever observations he desired was how he was going to get his gloved hands on a pair of theatre tickets, so be it. The guy could call him whatever he wished at this point, as long as he came up with the goods in the end.

"Yeah, I figured as much," he then replied to the guy's comment about it costing him, as he cast one last look at the people strolling along the sidewalk, before stepping into the dimly lit alleyway.

Normally, Eric wouldn't be caught dead in such a spot, and not because he didn't think he could handle himself if the guy tried to pull a fast one, nor because he couldn't recall ever having to stoop this low to get something he desired, although, that was a pretty could reason. No, it was the simple fact that the alley looked horrible and smelled even worse. It was almost as if the local restaurants had run out of places to go with their trash, so, instead of dealing with such a problem, they simply decided to carelessly dump their refuse here. Either that, or the hulking dumpster that sat just about midway down the narrow alley had exploded.

Trying his hardest not to step in something he'd come to regret, Eric stopped just north of that same dumpster and called out to the guy who had kept on walking, leaving a trial of smoke behind him as he went. "Hey, buddy, where you taking me?" he questioned, wondering why the transaction couldn't just happen here. Hell, why couldn't it have just taken place at the other end of the alley? "You worried about the pigs shutting you down?" he continued to call out as he also continued to make his way along the alley.

"Seriously, dude, you better have what I need," he muttered, more so to himself, as he finally came upon the guy, looking a tad bit more intimidating in his preferred environment, which caused Eric to slow in his step just a little. "Alright. Lay it on me," he demanded, wanting to get this over with already, as he began to reach for his money clip, which he kept neatly tucked away inside the folds of his jet-black tuxedo jacket.

 

[Foxxo]

Having gotten him about as far as he needed, Frank slowly turned around. "Hey man, don't be so tense. It doesn't fit well on a a guy such as you." A long drag of his cigarette as he chuckled slightly. "I got your damned theatre tickets so chill the fuck out. I'm honestly more worried about the attention I'd get should it slip that I have access to these."

His other hand, the one not holding the cigarette, fished a pair of tickets out of his pocket. Given the decoration it was obvious what kinds of tickets they were. They were lavish, and obviously expensive. "I've only got two on me at the moment, but like I said it'll cost you." Frank didn't specify an amount, as it was a tactic employed by scalpers, drug runners, and any legal negotiator as well. Don't make a monetary commitment until you're fully aware of your products value to another. Mind you, that rule wasn't limited to just monetary value.

Frank's eyes followed the man closely. Given his business he was quite familiar with people trying to pull something. He wasn't all that worried about this one; probably not even the type to know when to lie, but caution was the rule. Either way, he knew he'd be easier to handle than most of the ones who'd come before him.

Frank finished his smoke and let his now free hand fall down to the other pocket of his coat. The smoke had been a bit of a guise, so as to make it seem that reaching for pockets, whether it be to grab his carton, a lighter, or the tickets, was natural and nonthreatening. Another strategy in his line... Disarm your opponent in any way possible, especially when violence was likely to occur...

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Withdrawing his money clip as the guy basically told him to grow a pair, Eric proceeded to redistribute his muscular mass so that he not only stood taller than the guy, but his feet were now firmly planted a bit further apart, and his broad shoulders were cast back and squared off, so that his ample pecs were thrust out.

Still think I'm pretty? he thought to himself with an amused smirk.

Was he posturing? Sure, just a little - especially once he tilted his strong chin up in an arrogant manner - but he was also reminding the guy that he was more man than he appeared to be on the surface. Just because he dressed like a metrosexual on steroids, didn't mean he couldn't handle himself or the situation.

"Five hundred," he casually tossed the number out upon seeing the much sought after tickets, well aware of what their face value was. "For the pair," he then added, as he began to pull the crisp one-hundred dollar bills from his clip. "You know that's a good price, especially since they'll be worth nothing to you in a couple of hours."

Eric was actually right. If the guy didn't sell them before the curtain went up, they would be absolutely worthless to him. No more valuable than the paper they were printed on. Could he take the risk and try to find someone who would pay him more, possibly even double? Yeah, he could do that, but why bother when you had a sure thing standing right before you? He was better off to take the money, cut his losses, and move on, than walk away with nothing.

"Well?" he asked, as he offered the five bills and did his best to maintain his poker face. "We got a deal?"

 

[Foxxo]

Frank clicked his tongue and looked at the money clip. Eric's posturing didn't seem to have much of an effect on him. He dealt with guys about this size on the daily, and most of them were a lot more eager to use it than this man was.

"Listen, I'm not sure whether you're making assumptions based on a miscalculation, but I don't really need the money. I'd rather use the tickets myself and see how uncomfortable I can make the typical clientele." He looked up into his eyes from the money clip, a slightly disinterested glaze casting over them.

"Something tells me you'll be giving me every bill in that fancy clip of yours, big guy." Frank was a launderer and negotiator at heart, and could smell desperation a mile away. This one reeked of it. He'd do what he could to protect his pride, including paying a ridiculous amount for tickets if it meant feeling better about his capabilities.

As he took a little bit longer to respond, Frank shrugged and put the tickets back into his breast pocket. Sure, 500 would be nice, but boss wanted more than that. He wouldn't be getting a cut if he sold them for that. "No skin off my back buddy. Good luck and have a fun night." He began to walk back towards the mouth of the alley, slowly and deliberately.

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

A rookie mistake. That was exactly what Eric had just made as he practically showed all of his cards by carelessly displaying the impressive wad of cash he kept neatly tucked away within his money clip. What the hell had he been thinking? Well, quite clearly, he hadn't been thinking at all. In his race to get to the goal line, to get his hands on these damn tickets, he had essentially fumbled the ball. Now not only was he frustrated with the situation, but he was angry with himself. Angry with the stupid mistake he had just made, and angry that he hadn't prepared better for this evening.

This wasn't just any evening either. Oh no.

This guy that he was meeting, his 'date' so to speak, was not only the son of Eric's newly appointed boss, but he was a celebrity magnet of the highest caliber. While his father was one of the richest men in America, if not the world, Aaron Becker was the kind of guy you would constantly see splashed across every form of social media there was. There was no escaping him and his Greek-god good looks. We're talking Kardashian-level stardom here, not one of those wannabes, and it was Eric's job to wine and dine him, to impress him, so that, in turn, dear old dad would be impressed as well. Furthermore, if Eric could garner this guy's appreciation and, more importantly, his respect, so many more doors would open for him, doors he previously only dreamed about stepping through.

"Fine. Here. Take it all," he finally blurted, only after hesitating for the briefest of moments, just long enough for the guy to shrug the transaction off and begin to beat feet.

Slipping the remaining bills from the clip, which would bring the grand total to a cool twenty-five hundred, Eric sneered at the guy as he offered the tidy sum up. Thankfully, the clip still contained his Amex Black Card, along with his I.D., so he still had the means to pay for dinner and whatever else Aaron desired. So his funds took a hit? Oh well. It was the price of doing business with such lowlifes like this.

 

[Foxxo]

"Take it all hmm? Sounds like a pretty good deal." Frank had every intention of doing so.

He deftly grabbed the cash from Eric's hand and counted it. Two thousand, five hundred dollars. He'd seen a lot of money in his life, and could tell by the size of a stack almost exactly how much he'd find. An acquired skill when one dealt with physical cash so often. While counting, he glanced from the corner of his eye at this well-built, well-dressed man. If it came down to it, this little bit of money would only be the tip of the iceberg. That watch, polished to a brilliant sheen, would easily double his profits. His scarf? That jacket? Fur sold for a lot of money. Slowly, he finished counting, just as every article worn by Eric began to turn into dollar signs.

Frank rolled the cash back up and placed it in a pocket just on the inside of his jacket. Based on how much he just rolled, his cut would be an easy fifteen hundred. Not a bad haul for one night, though he'd done better before. "I'm glad to have done business with you. Hope you enjoy your night." With that he again removed the tickets from the other pocket inside his jacket and held them out for Eric. Frank was an honest business man, and people always got what they paid for. However, that didn't change the fact that there was other business to be taken care of. Transactions of a different nature...

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Handing the cash over, Eric did his best to keep his cool. He wasn't happy at all, but he was relieved, since he was seconds away from getting what he needed to ensure that this would indeed be a night to remember. Aaron would get to see and, more importantly, be seen at that sold out show and Eric would more than likely gain favor with both the social media mogul and his equally powerful father. Hell, he would probably get a little press himself, seeing that he would be the one enjoying the show with the influential man.

Sliding his much lighter money clip back inside his muscle-hugging dinner jacket, Eric patiently waited for the guy to finish up the transaction; however, as he did so, he couldn't help but notice the look he was giving him. Even though it was subtle and in a sidelong manner, Eric knew that expression of avarice all too well. He had seen it numerous times before, petty much anytime he went out in public dressed as he was now, with all of the bells and whistles openly proclaiming him to be a well-made man. And while such looks were typically welcomed, easily bolstering his already inflated ego, having a guy like this cast the same expression his way only served to remind him that he needed to wrap this up now and get the hell out of this alley.

Therefore, as soon as the tickets were offered, he snatched them up and immediately tucked them away, deep inside one of the satin-lined pockets of his full-length coat. "Yeah. It was a real pleasure," was all he sarcastically muttered in return, as he turned and began to walk away, tacking on a quick, "asshole," to the end, not caring in the least if the bottom feeder heard him or not.

 

[Foxxo]

Frank didn't flinch or make any move as the tickets were snatched from his hand. He simply smiled and let Eric fiddle around with his overly-expensive jacket as he tucked them away. Rushing against such a target was always a bad idea. He'd gotten into plenty of fights with bigger, probably smarter (when it came to fighting) members of his own gang. When throwing the first shot, it always needed to be perfect.

Just as soon as his body turned far enough away to make any sort of effective retort or response practical, Frank, with his right hand, curled a fist and jammed it, hard, into Eric's side. He was extremely familiar with kidney shots. Muscle in that area was always light, and if you were effective, the biggest men would fall to their knees, winded and incapable.

However, he wasn't done. As Eric did just that, clutching his side, Frank kicked the same spot, hard enough to send him into the side of the nearby dumpster. Slowly, Eric rolled himself into a sitting position. Frank imagined his vision was swimming as he took a few labored breaths. During that time, Frank had withdrawn a short, but extremely lethal silvered blade. It was the type that doubled as bronze knuckles. He'd always like having options.

"Oh boy, you may be big but you'll fall the same as everyone else, and look at you now. You know... You should be more careful with your words." Frank smiled as he crouched down in front of the man, sliding the knife into Eric's jacket and tracing the outlines of his pecs as he sat against the dumpster. "Take it all, is what you said right? I guess no one ever told you not to give men in alleys ideas. Well... it's too late for that, as I've had a few ideas now, and I tend to get what I want." He smiled wickedly down at the man, his eyes alight as various possibilities crossed through his mind.

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Eric was doing an excellent job of racking up the rookie mistakes left and right.

First, he had made the error of showing the thug all of his money. Then, because he rarely thought before he spoke, he had the balls to call the guy an asshole. But his biggest mistake, the one he would probably come to regret the most, was turning his back on the guy. What the hell had he been thinking? He was practically begging him to take full advantage of the situation, which is exactly what he did, without much delay and with the skill of someone who had done this a number of times before.

The blow to his side had certainly caught him and his body off guard, causing him to go down hard upon his knees. The kick, however, he actually saw coming, but there was no time to react, to move out of the way, to even defend himself with a haphazardly placed arm. So, instead, his muscular mass took the full force of it, which sent him careening into the nearby dumpster. Hitting it with a hard thud, he landed on his side, but as quickly as he was forced into that position, he righted himself, onto his ass, in about the same amount of time.

Regretfully, being tossed about like this did indeed scramble both his mind and vision just long enough for him to miss the drawing of the weapon. So instead of seeing the knife first, he felt it, specifically the sharp tip of it, tracing the outlines of his now slightly heaving pecs, which immediately caused him to go stiff, for fear of being cut.

"What the fuck do you want from me?" he found himself muttering through clenched teeth, as he struggled not to move. "You...you already took all of my money," he added with a sneer, which was followed by a cough, as the foul odor of the alleyway - or was it the thug? - assaulted his senses in full, now that he was down among the trash.

 

[Foxxo]

Frank continued to trace the lines of various muscles through Eric's shirt, grinning to himself and letting out a bit of a whistle. It was the type of whistle one would use to cat-call various women from an alleyway.

Without replying, or even looking him in the eye, he fished out the man's I.D. It wasn't very difficult. Frank had seen exactly where he'd stashed it, and had also always been very good with his fingers. He'd been an accomplished pick-pocket when younger. Over the years he'd leaned into more lucrative pursuits however.

"Eric Kennedy hmm? Ya know, I think that would have been one of my first guesses. You look like that sort of guy." He read out every bit of information on the card, accentuating certain important bits such as the address. Frank got off on this kind of shit, and wanted to see this huge man get scared. Sure, scaring a woman could be fun, but it was so easy. Scaring men, and especially men that were bigger than you, well, it felt amazing. Reducing someone who'd normally command a room into a sniveling mess could bring about insane pleasures.

"As for what I want, I thought I told you already. Can't blame you for forgetting, fear does that to people." He started saying that with a smirk, but let it fade as he spoke. Finally, he was staring Eric in the eyes, a deathly still expression on his face. "I want everything."

After a long pause, he broke into a wily grin, the type of grin a man would get when he was having fun and getting his way. "Let's start with your watch though. I know exactly what that's worth, and I already have a buyer in mind. After that... well..." Frank brought his face very close to Eric, breathing heavily so that all of his sense would be overwhelmed by both his breath and his scent. "I guess we'll just have to see how good of a boy you are... right?" A quick peck on the nose, followed by a throaty chuckle.

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Feeling the tip of the knife through the fine fabric of his dress shirt as it danced across the firm lines of his torso, Eric found himself barely breathing, barely moving, for fear that one wrong move would lead to him being cut or, worse still, stabbed. Watching now as the thug brought his free hand up and slid it inside his jacket, Eric wanted to recoil in disgust, wanted to pull away, but, again, there was the knife, so he had no other choice but to let the guy help himself to his money clip that contained his I.D.

Listening now as he began to casually rattle off his information, Eric could feel his insides go cold. This asshole now knew who he was and where he lived, and while there were probably a dozen or more Eric Kennedy's in the world, only one of them lived at, "161 Maiden Lane, Penthouse 3, Financial District, New York City."

Fuck, was all his mind could mutter, as he began to feel a fine layer of sweat take shape along his dark hairline and then upon his upper lip. The only consolation in all of this was the simple fact that if this guy was taking the time to learn where he lived and to make it abundantly clear that he now knew, it meant - at least to Eric's desperately panicked mind - that he had no intention of killing him. Robbing him blind? Yes, that much was certain, he even reiterated his intentions himself, but not killing him.

Allowing himself to breathe, just a little, as the thief shoved his I.D. back inside his jacket pocket, Eric found himself sneering at the thought of this asshole casually taking what didn't belong to him and, even worse still, profiting from it. His watch, his stainless-steel, limited-edition Rolex, that hung heavy even from his thick wrist, cost him an even seventeen-thousand dollars, and now - Fuck - he was just suppose to hand it over? Well, yeah, he was, because even though he had just told himself that his life wasn't one of the things the thug planned on taking, it didn't mean that he couldn't fuck him up royally to get what he wanted if Eric refused.

Therefore, as much as it pained him to part with the timepiece, he did exactly that. He undid it and slid it off over his gloved hand; however, as he did this the thug proceeded to move in real close, so close his putrid scent could be smelled and his bad breath could be felt, washing over the smooth, tan skin of his handsome face, which only made Eric cough once more, for, almost impossibly so, both smelled worse than the rotting trash surrounding them. And then the guy did something so strange, so out of place, that it actually confused Eric.

He kissed him on the nose and then laughed in his face!

"What the fuck?" he actually muttered as he thrust the watch up between them, hoping that the guy would back off and take his foul scent and twisted personality with him.

 

[Foxxo]

"Ah yes, there it is... Thanks love." Frank smiled as he held up the watch to a light overhead. It was beautiful, and was going to make him and his boss very happy men. As he looked away he dug the blade slightly deeper into Eric's chest. It was a gesture that screamed "I may be looking away, but try anything while I am and you're getting cut badly, no matter what you do."

With one fluid motion Frank deposited the watch into another of his many pockets. This pocket wasn't like the others. It was on meant to hold expensive merchandise, the real deal. It wouldn't do at all to have this watch get knicked or scratched in any way. A single scrape could mean an easy loss of a thousand dollars. Not worth the risk.

"Tell you what buddy, I'm feeling generous and satisfied. I'm not going to ask you for any more of your pretty baubles." That grin of Frank's face suggested things weren't quite finished yet, and it very quickly turned into a mock frown. "However, there is one way in which I'm not quite satisfied yet. In fact... I'm not satisfied at all. And that won't do now will it? Can't have me walking away feeling bad."

Shaking his head, Frank continued, "You see, Eric..." He paused on the name and emphasized it. "All of this action has gotten me pretty worked up. Normally I can wait until I get somewhere where this behavior is more acceptable, but now I just can't." Another pause as he brought his face close again, breathing heavier. "Let's just say I blame that pretty face of yours." He laughed lightly then as his frown again turned into a smile. "You know what I'm referring too, don't you? I know you're not a stupid boy..."

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Disgusted with this entire situation - although, mostly with himself for behaving like a total idiot by putting himself in harms way - Eric watched as one of his prized possessions was swiped, inspected, and then safely tucked away within the thief's jacket. Shifting just a little as the guy did all of this, his simple gesture was immediately met with the tip of the blade being pressed more firmly into his pec, practically piercing the fine, linen fabric of his dress shirt; however, for whatever reason the guy didn't actually perform the dirty deed of slicing his shirt or cutting the skin beneath it. No, instead, he proceeded to inform Eric that he was essentially done with taking what wasn't his.

Really? That was it? Only his watch and, well, a bit of his pride were going to suffer? Otherwise, he was free to go?!

But then he started talking again, about not feeling fully satisfied or happy, and about how he felt all worked up - even going as far as to pointedly slip in his name, which certainly made him feel uneasy, not liking it one bit that this stranger would address him so casually, so intimately - but none of this, absolutely none of this, made any sense to Eric. What was this guy getting at? What did he want him to do now? Tell him a few jokes to lift his spirits?

Well, fuck, if that was all it was going to take...

But no. That wasn't what this man wanted at all. Not by a long shot. It was written all over his stupid face, too, which was now just inches away from his own, and it was fairly obvious in the way that he was now breathing, ever so heavily; however, it was his comment about Eric's "pretty face" that really drove his point home. He...he wanted to...

Make out?!

Well, no, fucking, way! He wasn't into that shit! He wasn't that sort of "boy!"

Yet - Damnit! - he wasn't exactly in the best situation to refuse the guy, now was he? The knife was still out and the thug was more or less perfectly positioned over him, pinning him to the dumpster. If he tried to fight him, tried to even make a move in that vein, he would get stuck with the knife...or worse. He...he could do this. Couldn't he? He had to do this. Didn't he? It was either do it, and live with the horrible memory for the rest of his life, or not, and have no life to live at all.

Therefore, after taking a deep breath, he proceeded to lick his full lips and then close his eyes, before tilting his head just so, so that the guy could make his move.

Please, just...get this over with already, his mind practically begged, as he licked his suddenly dry lips once more, dreading what was coming next.

 

[Foxxo]

Frank laughed as the man below him licked his lips, closed his eyes and puckered up. He lightly slapped the side of his face a few times, hard enough to sting after the first few and leave the side of his face slightly red.

"Well, well... Look at you." He laughed again. Despite him being a big man, he could only be described as cute given his worried, embarrassed expression. "You'd think this was your first time. Maybe it is? Oh... That's adorable. I'm taking your cherry." Frankly he didn't care, but Frank lived for these moments; eliciting these moments of weakness in men that wouldn't be caught dead showing weakness. It sent a shiver throughout his body.

Without waiting any longer, and leaving the knife pressed tightly against his pec to serve as a reminder, he grabbed his chin tightly. A second later he dove in, pressing his lips hard against Eric's. He didn't stop there, and shoved his tongue between them, between his teeth, to invade every inch of his now opened mouth. It was sloppy, but Frank wanted it that way. He let his saliva build and run from his tongue into Eric's mouth.

This continued for about a minute, but when Frank pulled himself away he bit Eric's bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. Kissing him once more he pulled away, making sure to leave the slightest bit of red on his own lips.

"Open your eyes you little shit." Another laugh, this one sounding colder and more cruel than the previous ones. "You're not a fucking virgin on prom night, as much as it may feel like it."

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Surprised by the slaps, Eric's eyes fluttered open, just in time for the guy to laugh right in his face. What the hell? his confused mind questioned as he felt his cheeks flush hot from the slaps and than even hotter from the guy's demeaning comments. Adorable? He was adorable? Why? Because he hadn't kissed another man? How was that adorable? As far as Eric was concerned it was more of an...

Jesus!

The moment he felt the guy's grubby hand on his chin, holding his head firmly in place, Eric's entire body went stiff. Then the guy's lips came, hard and rough against his own, followed quickly by his tongue forking inside, invading his mouth. With his eyes flashing wide, Eric let slip a moan, but it certainly wasn't a favorable, pleasure-filled moan that one would've probably expelled had they enjoyed what was happening to them. No, it was one filled with disgust and even anger. So it wasn't actually a moan at all, but a deep and relentless groan that only grew louder as the asshole slobbered all over him, feeding him his spit along the way, which tasted like liquid smoke.

Disgusted, Eric made the bold move of putting one of his gloved hands up on the guy's shoulder, all in an effort to keep him from resting his filthy form completely on top of him, which he felt like could easily happen if this went on for much longer. Which it did, for what felt like many minutes more, until - What the fuck! - the jerkoff bit him! Shocked, because it happened so unexpectedly, so quickly, Eric sneered at the guy as he pulled away, seeing a trace of blood on his own, spit slick lips.

Bringing a gloved hand to his mouth, he also ran his tongue over the spot that had been bitten, tasting blood as he did. And as much as he wanted to focus on what had just been done to him, Eric found himself not only listening to the guy as he continued to mock him some more, but looking up at him and, more specifically, his fully packed crotch that appeared to house an obscene erection within his faded jeans.

"Fuck no," he found himself reflexively muttering, as he shook his head and started to shift from a sitting position to a kneeling one, with the intention of getting to his feet at this point, seeing that the knife had been temporarily removed from his chest. "You...you can't be serious," he sputtered now, as he felt his insides churn and a trickle of sweat drip from both of his armpits, dampening his dress shirt. Then his eyes darted up to the guy's humorless face and it was painfully obvious that the guy meant exactly what he was implying.

"There's gotta be something else....," he sort of just blurted now, letting his words trail off, as his mind began to race for what that something else would be.

 

[Foxxo]

Frank was not happy with the show of resistance, but at the same time it excited him. He was used to men becoming hollowed out husks as soon as the first move had been made. This one had the audacity to push back, even if it was just a slight push.

"Hope you can explain this to your date buddy," Frank said, just as Eric tried to move onto his knees. Almost immediately after he swung, them knuckled part of the knife connecting with Eric's head just above his left ear. Hitting him in the face would be a bad idea, and hitting him too hard with the knuckles could kill him. As such the punch wasn't that hard, just enough to ring his bell... A lot.

"If there was another option I'd have taken that too. You understand now don't you boy? I'm taking what I want, and you're giving it to me. You won't get out of this." He had grabbed his hair to raise his face up to his, and spat on his cheek. After laughing, he moved in to lick the spit off before laughing again.

"Better get that mouth ready by the way, I don't like my sleeves dry." He let that sink in. Surely given his actions and that statement Eric would know exactly what was coming next.

Frank had begun to unbuckle his jeans. Difficult, considering how hard he already was. He'd never identified as gay, but seeing big men fall at his hands got him roaring every time. A few seconds later his cock was out, the knife back at Eric's chest in case he got any ideas or recovered from the blow too quickly.

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Even though the guy was kind enough to utter a warning, Eric still didn't have nearly enough time to react, to get the hell out of the way of the solid brass knuckles as they came crashing into the tender side of his head. Rocked by the blow, he found himself hitting the side of the dumpster with the broad expanse of his upper back, but as quickly as his muscular mass was sent in one direction, it was being yanked in another, by his hair - Goddamnit! - just so the guy could spit in his face and laugh some more!

Rattled now, Eric was essentially at this guy's mercy, so when he leaned in and licked the spit from his face and then laughed even harder, all he could do was let slip a moan. His head was throbbing now and his vision was still a little off, but, regretfully so, his sense of hearing remained, which made it easy for him to hear the guy's instructions and then hear - Fuck no - the sound of a belt being unbuckled, a snap being undone, and a zipper being drawn along its teeth.

Still trying to pull himself together, Eric groggily shifted upon the piece of cardboard beneath him so that he was now kneeling upon it; however, as soon as the knife returned to his chest, just above his heart, his body reacted with a rush of adrenaline that not only cleared his vision, but afforded him the ability to lift his heavy head so that he could gaze up, only to see the last thing he would ever want to see, not just in this situation, but any.

Dangling about a foot or so away from his face was this monster's cock. It was thick, it was erect, and it was weeping the slightest bit of pre from its sizable slit.

Feeling his pulse begin to quicken, his mouth went bone dry. He imagined at this point that he probably looked a lot like a deer caught in headlights, for he could feel his eyes widen and his mouth fall agape, just a little. Never in his life had he been this close to another man's genitals, at least not in such a prone position. In the showers at the gym? Sure. In the locker room of that same gym? Yep. All of the time. But not like this, and certainly not down on his knees, in a dirty alleyway, with a knife pointed at him.

"I... Oh fuck. I..." he began to sputter, wanting to say he couldn't, no, he wouldn't, but as the seconds began to tick away and the tip of the knife started to dig into his chest, Eric found himself with no other choice, not unless he wanted to end up a bloody mess, left for dead in this disgusting alleyway. So instead of fighting it, instead of being any more of an idiot than he had already been this evening, he reached up with one of his gloved hands and gripped the man's cock.

Jesus. No. You can't! his mind screamed, as he began to lean forward, licking his dry lips as he did. Eric, for God's sake... No! it continued to scream, as more sweat began to pour from his pits and his lips began to tremble, his eyes now closed during the final approach.

But he did it. He had to do it. There was no other choice. He either sucked this guy off or paid the ultimate price. It...it wasn't like he had to be good at it or - Fuck no! - enjoy it. He just needed to get this asshole off and then get the hell out of here.

But just as he made the mistake of opening his eyes, made the mistake of seeing the man's twitching cock as it slid between his moistened lips, he truly and honestly wondered if being stabbed was a better alternative.

 

[Foxxo]

Frank grinned wider and wider at every twitch of Eric's face. Every muscle movement screamed out that he was drowning in his emotions, and it made Frank feel amazing. He didn't think it was possible to get as hard as he was right now, yet he did.

His hand gripped Eric's hair even harder, though he doubted Eric would even notice at this point. His attention was glued to a certain member stuck in front of his face. Frank knew that feeling; he'd been in similar situations when he first joined up with his current gang. That sense of horror and inevitability, powerless despite feeling so powerful moments before. Watching Eric go through the same motions cause him to chuckle more than once. Everyone started on the bottom wrung.

It seemed like an eternity, probably for the both of them, before Eric finally pushed his face forward, mouth open, and began to take his cock into his mouth. Taking too long, Frank thought, as he closed the rest of the distance with a push of his hips, shoving the entirely of his length into his mouth and down the back of his throat. The rush of it elicited a gag, which to Frank was the best possible reaction.

"There ya go. Not so bad right? It gets easier too." Eric couldn't look high enough to see the grin on Frank's face, or the glint in his eyes.

"Now, I'm sure you know where to go from her. Been on the receiving end of this enough times I'm sure." Eric's mouth was dry, and obviously he'd be shit at it, but that wasn't where Frank derived pleasure. It was all about his body language, and that look on his face. Priceless.

It was taking this man boy a bit longer than he'd hoped to get the message. Frank didn't mind too much as he simply began using his grip on his hair to get him going.

"I'm only going to help you so much. Rest is up to you. I trust you know what'll happen if I don't leave this alley satisfied." To make it obvious he drew the knife up from his chest to his neck, and around his ear. He circled his vitals, expertly avoiding cutting him but at the same time showing him just how sharp it was, and that he'd be more than happy to use it given the opportunity.

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Hot dog. Sausage. Salami.

Those were the thoughts and, more specifically, the images Eric forced into his mind as his mouth became stuffed with something of the same nature, at least in shape and, to a degree, texture. He couldn't, not even for second, allow himself to fully comprehend what was sliding between his lips and over his tongue, regardless of the fact that he had allowed himself to see it enter, nor the fact that this thing inside his mouth seemed to not only have a mind of its own, as it bucked and grew, but also a distinct musky odor and taste, that smelled nothing like any of those meats.

Taking it timidly at first, one inch at a time, Eric soon found himself gagging on the generous length as it was suddenly rammed down his throat. Fighting to keep his eyes shut, which he managed to do, he then attempted to place all of his efforts on breathing, for his nose was now the only option, seeing that his throat was stuffed full. Inhaling deeply, he actually gagged again as that distinct scent flooded his nostrils. It was ripe and relentless, assaulting his senses in full, so much so, it actually made his pinched eyes water.

You...you can do this, he just kept telling himself. You have to do this.

However, as the agonizing minutes passed, he began to falter, began to struggle some more, and instead of the guy giving up on him and his pathetic attempt, he gripped his hair more firmly and thrust deeper still, laughing as he did. Then, to encourage him some more, that damn knife was brought back into play, tracing long lines along his powerful neck, his strong jaw, and his "pretty face," just deep enough to remind him that it was still there and ready to be implemented at a moments notice.

Fuck.

Feeling a heightened sense of fear and dread immediately well up inside of him and then bubble to the surface, causing more sweat to drip not only from his pits but now his whole body, Eric refocused his efforts. He had to do this, and he had to do it better than he was. Or else. So, after taking another deep breath through his nose, he got to work on wrapping his lips more firmly around the...the shaft...and - Oh god! - utilizing his tongue to dance upon the surface of it. He...he knew what worked for him, so, he imagined, the same would hold true for this guy. Right? More pressure, more teasing. More sucking, more licking. That's what worked for him, that's what usually got him off, especially when the focus was placed squarely on his more sensitive parts, like just under the head and around the tip.

Please, dear god, let this work, he found himself practically begging now to some unseen entity in the sky. Please.

 

[Foxxo]

It was working, as Frank let out a loud and triumphant moan. Men usually proved to be pretty good at handling another's cock. It made sense; they knew what they themselves wanted.

Frank continued to hold onto Eric's head, pulling himself in and out of his mouth even as the pretty man worked what he could. It wouldn't do to let him feel like he even had a sliver of control in this situation. All Eric could do at this point was try to make it as easy as possible on himself.

Every few seconds Frank would get a little bit excited and the knife would dig a little bit deeper as his body tensed. Each time he was able to remind himself not to kill the poor guy and relaxed his grip. At one point he went a bit too far and very lightly sliced Eric along his jawline. It didn't matter so much... Cut when shaving perhaps? Frank just smiled and continued.

It wasn't long after that when Frank felt himself pass the point of being able to calm himself. It took a while, Eric not being too familiar with handling another's cock, but he got him there.

Frank redoubled his efforts, moving faster and gripping hard as he felt himself getting closer and closer to orgasm.

"That's it... That's it! Oh such a good boy!" His voice was loud, loud enough that someone may have heard. Frank didn't care as he laughed. This was the best part.

Without warning, he ripped his cock from Eric's mouth as it twitched and spasmed. Then, after about a second, he came. Once, then twice, Frank pushed as much cum from his cock as he could manage. He shot it all over Eric's pretty face, staining it white.

Frank lapped it all up as he grinned and looked down. This really was the best part, watching a big independent man react to being made another man's little bitch. What better way to express that then cover his face in cum? Frank couldn't help from laughing. It was full of glee.

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Struggling to keep up with the now relentless thrusts, Eric tried his best to remain calm, tried his best to relax his now sore throat as he continued to tighten his lips around and flick his tongue along the engorged length of flesh that was mercilessly assaulting his mouth. At this point, it didn't really seem to matter if he was good at this or not, because the guy was so lost in abusing him, so lost in openly using him, that it sounded like he was enjoying himself for that reason alone, as his deep moans and wicked laughter continued to echo off the alley walls.

For the briefest of moments, Eric actually wondered if they could be heard. Surely someone, anyone, wandering by had to know something questionable was happening just behind the rusted out dumpster that sat halfway down the dimly lit alley. Or...or was this a regular occurrence? Did this asshole already know he would be safe to do whatever the fuck he wanted to because this dark and dirty spot, this hallway to hell, was essentially overlooked or, well, purposefully avoided?

Why hadn't he been smart enough to know better?

Why? Because before this evening, Eric was an egotistical, cocksure braggart who thought himself untouchable. Nobody messed with Eric Kennedy and got away with it. He was the one who commanded the room. He was the one who called the shots. But now? Now he was nothing more than a spit-dripping, teary-eyed, fuck toy, who was being gleefully abused like some sort of common, cum-hungry whore.

Jesus. When...when will this fucking end? he found himself desperately questioning as the guy's moans and groans grew louder, as his grip on his head became more intense, more painful, and his thrusts became even more violent.

But then, that question got answered, and, ironically so, Eric actually wanted to take it back, actually wanted this to continue for just a little longer, so that he could've better mentally prepared for what came next, because just as he started to feel like there was no end in sight, no end to the cruelty that could be - quite literally - thrust upon his lips, tongue, and throat, the disgusting pervert pulled out and proceeded to paint Eric's face with several squirts of seed!

Stunned by this simple act, Eric found himself flinching and gasping roughly at the same time, as he felt the sticky substance splash across his cheek, then over the bridge of his nose, and finally, up along his forehead, nearly into his dark hairline. Then, as if that weren't humiliating enough, the fucker actually leaned in and began to lap up his own cum as if it were some tasty treat, running his rough tongue all over Eric's smooth, yet sweaty and semen slick skin.

It...it...it was revolting.

Actually, the whole act was mortifying.

And all Eric wanted to do at this point was vomit.

Not kill the guy, nor scream and shout, and curse the fucker out, since he remained armed and dangerous. No. He just wanted to release the bitter bile he could feel bubbling up inside of him. That's how wrecked his insides were, that's how disgusted he felt. However, instead, he simply remained kneeling, looking up at the asshole like some sort of lost cause, with his mouth agape and his face glistening with the man's spit.

He looked pathetic, he knew he did, but it was a befitting description, seeing that he felt exactly that way.