The Telemachus Story Archive

A Gigolo's Tale
By Jotto (Illustrated by Jotto)
Email: Jotto

“A Gigolo’s Tale”



Frankie Esposito was a gay gigolo for the mob, but up until then, he was a straight boy who wanted a career in acting.  But one night while performing at an Italian dinner theater, his stunning looks and flowing mane of wavy black hair attracted a gay member of the family and the young man quickly learned how much money renting out his body could make.  And all he had to do was remain beautifully young, know how to keep a secret, pretend those repulsive men where desirable, and most important of all, do as he was told.  And that meant to be where and when he was told to be and to perform any sexual act that was demanded of him.  There is a lot of money in pretending to be gay.

When Antonio had met Frankie, he was unaware of his past or that his father had arranged their meeting. While his father didn't approve of his son's homosexuality, he knew that being a young man could cause him to be careless and indiscreet and hired Frankie to shepherd his son's sexuality. And Frankie was more than happy to help the chubby nineteen year old not only because of the money, but because Antonio was a devoted bottom that loved to get fucked by and suck on Frankie's fat cock.

Little did both of them know that hidden cameras that were monitored by the father’s henchmen carefully surveyed their rendezvous. Based on what the fathered had read, he felt he had to crash their next hookup and make an example of the gigolo that was making his son into a bitch.

On that fateful night, thinking that is parents had gone to Florida for the weekend, the two young men had skipped the pretense of Netflix and pizza and went straight to testing the springs of Antonio's bed. The stripping of close quickly lead to Antonio fluffing Frankie's cock with his tongue which quickly lead to the junior mobster presenting his rolling yet smooth ass to what he thought was his boyfriend. And as Frankie planted his cock deep into Antonio's ass, the two young men sung to each other with a melody of grunts and groans. And as Frankie was getting into a relentless rhythm, the father stormed in with two of his henchmen.

"What the fuck is this?" The father yelled out.

The two naked man-lings pulled apart from each other. Frankie leaped off the bed and retreated to a corner of the room, his cock glistening with lube was too hard and large to even try to conceal from the sudden spectators.  Antonio pulled a sheet up to his neck as he screamed.

"Papa, what are you doing? Get out!"

The father stood fast, "Well, what the fuck is going on here, Antonio?"

"You know I'm gay."

The father sternly puts it to him, "I'm not talking about that. What did I tell you when you came out to me? What did I tell you was the most important thing?"

"To be a man."

"So you call this being a man, sucking his cock and letting him fuck you up the ass?  Ain’t no son of mine going to be a bitch to some overpaid puttana.”

"He's not a whore, he's my boyfriend."

The father looked over at Frankie frozen in the corner of the room who was just now starting to go flaccid.

Sheepishly, Frankie cleared his throat, "Hello, Mister Giordano."

The father coldly asked, "What did I tell you when I first hired you? I told you to show him how to be a man no matter how gay he is. And here I find you with your cock up my son's ass"

Antonio couldn’t believe, " What do you mean you hired him? You know each other?"

"What, did you think somebody this pretty could fall for a chunky little fannook like you?  I hired him to keep you discreet, we still have an image to maintain. And I didn’t hire him to fuck you, if any thing, I wanted you to fuck him.  But instead I find you taking it up the ass like some bottom feeding cock sucker."

Antonio's fat-laden heart was breaking as he turned to Frankie, "You're a whore?"

Frankie proudly proclaimed, "No, I'm an actor."

The father chimed in, "What's the difference?” 

Antonio could barely bring himself to ask, “You said you loved me.  Do you?"

Frankie was almost conscious-stricken, “Sorry kid, love’s got nothing to do with it, its just business, but you had fun, right?  Besides, I’m not even gay.”

Antonio refused to believe it, “But what about all the things we did?”

Frankie hesitated, “I can do a lot of things and pretend to like it for the amount of money I'm paid.”

Shame and humiliation kept Antonio from leaping out of bed and strangling the man he thought was his boyfriend, lover.

Antonio started to cry, “I hate you.  I hate you.  I want you dead.”

Antonio turned to his father, “I want him dead!  I want him out of here now and I want him dead!”

The father proudly, “Now there’s the man I’d hoped you’d become.”

Mr. Giordano pulled out a cigar and lit it as, “Well, Frankie, you betrayed my trust and you broke my son’s heart.  And now he wants you dead, and I do like to indulge my only son.”

Frankie pleaded, “Mister Giordano, you can’t be serious.  I did everything you asked me to do.”

“Yes you did.  But you also did a couple of things I didn’t ask you to do like saying I love you to a client.  Any whore knows you shouldn't say that unless you mean it.  So, my two backup singers behind me here are going to take you for a little fishing trip.  I suggest you dress accordingly.”

Antonio interrupted, “No, take him out of here naked, I want him humiliated.”

Mr. Giordano cued the two Goombahs standing behind him, “You heard my son, take him as is.”

The two huge men swept around their boss and towards Frankie.  Each of them outweighed the want-to-be actor by fifty percent or more with muscle and solid fat.  Frankie hoped all his boxing and weight training would come in to good use as he leaped at them trying to charge through the two brutes, but it was like hitting a brick wall.  One man easily wrangled Frankie into a sleeper hold while the other incapacitated him with a few uppercuts to his nuts.  Frankie screamed out in agony just before he lost consciousness and went limp in their arms.  The one man effortlessly flung the loose assemblage of muscles over his shoulder, a shoulder that had carried many men before him.

Antonio stared longingly at Frankie’s ample manhood as it squeezed out from between his thighs.  And as the men turned away, Antonio gazed at the strong arms that had many times pulled their groins together and the long black hair that had danced across his face as they kissed.  Antonio’s father could read his mind.

“Don’t pine for him, son.  As you rise through the ranks of the family, you’ll be able to buy dozens of men just like him.”

Antonio pondered, “But will I be able to buy love.”

Later that day…

Frankie awoke nesting uncomfortably on a spare tire in the trunk of a car.  Chains bound his arms tight behind his back no matter how hard he struggled against the links of steel.  He could smell the sea air and fish as the car came to a stop.  He dreaded the sound of the footsteps as they got closer and stopped.  When the trunk flew open, the henchmen and the naked gigolo exchanged glances.

The first man, Vitale, scoffed, “Pretty boy is awake.  Up you go.”

Vitale flung Frankie’s legs out of the trunk and then pulled him out by his hair until he was on his feet.  They were inside the loading dock of one of the fish canneries owned by Mr. Giordano.  Frankie was surprised to see a building filled with cannery workers and even more, he was put-off by how everyone didn’t notice what was going on.  But they all noticed, they just knew better to pretend nothing was going on like so many times before.  How could they not notice the most beautiful naked young man any of them had ever seen as he was paraded through the building.

Frankie knew it would be in vain to shout for help, “Can any of you help me?  Please…”

Frankie was quickly shut up with an incredibly painful bitch-slap from Vitale.

Vitale mockingly, “Shut up, all these undocumented people are working and don’t want to get deported for some faggot whore trouble maker.”

The two henchmen used Frankie’s body to push open a door that opened onto a dock where a couple of fishing boats were moored.  As they reached the first boat, they tossed the hapless nude actor into the main cargo hold.  His landing was softened by the pile of dead fish that had yet to be unloaded.  The captain of the vessel was about to protest until he recognized the two imposing figures.

Vitale waved a finger forward as, “Take us out…and far up the coast.”

The captain hastily complied, “Yes sirs, anything you want.”

As Frankie laid on the pile of fish, he became nauseous as the smell of fish mixed with diesel fumes as the engines started up.  Or was he sick with the notion of his pending death.  As he gazed up through the opening above him, the cannery disappeared and a beautiful partially cloudy sky came into view.  He wondered if there was a heaven and would he be allowed in.

After two hours of nauseating pitching and yawing their way up the Florida coast, the motors cut out and a deadly silence haunted Frankie.  This is it, he thought, is there any way to talk his way out of this.  Is there any thing he could do, he thought.  Some thing he could offer these men.  But all he had at his disposal was his magnificent body.

The burly sea captain leaped down into the hold and hoisted the bound and helpless Frankie up to the henchmen.  As Frankie stood naked before them, he noticed Vitale looking him over.

Frankie started, “You don’t have to do this, you know.  I could be yours.  Aren’t you curious to see for yourself why I’m the best paid gigolo in Miami?”

Frankie turned and pressed his muscular ass into Vitale’s groin.

Frankie flirted desperately, “Go ahead and touch it.  Feel how smooth and tight that twenty-five year old ass is.”

To his surprise, Vitale did place his hand on his ass and grabbed a handful of buttocks.  The other henchman, Jerry, was surprised as well.

Vitale took a deep breath, “You’re a nasty little thing, aren’t you.  You always get like this when you’re about to die?”

Frankie offered, “But if you kill me, you’ll be missing out on the best pussy you could ever get.  Come on, stick a finger up in there and feel just how silky and tight my hole is as it quivers with fear.”

Vitale’s ring finger slipped down between the brawny mounds of glutes and then hesitated on the rim of his manhole.

Frankie dared him, “Go ahead and take a plunge into where very few have been before.  Feel how nice it is in there.”

Frankie gasped as Vitale’s finger penetrated him. “Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it?  It’s like a teenage girl’s pussy, isn’t it?  Yeah, finger me.”

Jerry couldn’t believe it, “What are you doing, man?”

Vitale was transfixed, “You know, it does feel nice.  It does feel like teenage pussy up in there.”

The thug was guilty of many things and spoke from experience.  Vitale unzipped his fly.

Jerry was bemused, “What, you’re not actually going to fuck him, are you?”

Vitale shrugged, “Sure, what ya say we pork him before we toss him over?  Just to see if he’s really worth his reputation.”

Frankie knew he had won an opportunity to appeal to their animal instincts and was prepare to surrender his body completely to these two greasy meatballs if it meant saving his life.

Jerry was unsure, "I don't know, I'm not gay, bro."

"Neither am I." Said Frankie as bent over and placed his mouth against Jerry's pants and started licking at his dick through the cheaply tailored suit.

As Vitale whipped out his cock and slapped Frankie's ass with it, "Go ahead, you fuck him down his throat while I fuck him up the ass."

Jerry thought about for a second, "if my wife ever finds out about this, I'll make sure your wife knows too."

The two brutes slapped hands.

Vitale grunted out, "Deal."

Vitale hocked a loogie; a loud snort had produced a major ball of phlegm.  A sharp exhale from Vitale shot the slim from his tongue and smack bad onto Frankie's crack.  Vitale used his cock to brush Frankie's hole with the make shift lube while Jerry whipped out his cock and force-fed it into Frankie's gullet.

Frankie muffled out, "If you unchain my hands, I can really work your balls too."

Jerry scoffed, "Nothing doing, sweetheart, you’re going down hands free."

The two thugs pounded away at bent over gigolo like two lumberjacks hacking away at a fallen log.  All the while, Frankie was doing his best to make it sound like he was enjoying it with feigned grunts and groans and the occasional compliment.

"Oh, I love the taste of your huge cock.  It feels so good in my mouth."

Actually, for such a big guy, Jerry had a rather small dick and it tasted like a dirty old sock dipped in vinegar.  The boat captain who usually knew to keep out of sight during these special "fishing trips" couldn't help but to sneak a peek as he surreptitiously took a few pictures with his phone.  The relentless pounding went on for twenty minutes as Frankie desperately tried to think of an escape as he faked his way through the self-imposed rape.  The doomed gigolo kept an eye on the shoreline that didn’t seem that far away, but in fact, things at sea are always father away than they seem. 

As Jerry finally unloaded his spunk down Frankie's pie hole, Vitale purged a major load up Frankie's glorious man-pussy.  As the two thugs gathered their composure and shoved their dicks back in their pants, Frankie stood up wiping his mouth off on his shoulder.  Jerry walked away with a certain amount of shame as Vitale slapped Frankie on the ass.

Frankie coyly asked, "Well, what-a ya say, hmm?  Set me up in a private little hideaway somewhere and we can do this anytime you like."

Vitale seriously considered, "Ah, I don't know.  If the boss ever found out, all three of us would be sleeping with the fishes.

Jerry returned with a heavy chain and an even heavier cinder block, "V, you dumb-fuck, you're not actually consider this, are you?"

"Well, he does have a really sweet ass."  Vitale grabs Frankie's hefty dick and shakes it around. "And after giving birth to four kids, my wife would appreciate his king sized dong up her twat." 

Frankie desperately, "He'll yeah, I love to fuck women. I'd be glad to do your wife.  I mean, if that's what you want."

As Jerry fed the chain through the cinder block, "Yeah, and that was the best blowjob I've had in a long time, but ain't no cocksucker worth my neck, no matter how good he is."

Frankie pleaded, "You guys know I can keep a secret.  No one would ever find out."

Jerry secured the other end of the chain tightly around Frankie's neck.  When the thug let go of the chain, Frankie nearly fell back and started to choke as the weight of the cinder block bored down on his throat. 

Frankie choked out, "Come on guys, I know we could make this work."

Vitale took a deep breath, "As usual, Jerry, you're right, he's not worth it."

Frankie wined, "Come on dudes, I am worth it."

Vitale quizzed, "Is that enough weight?  Just one block?”

Jerry reassured, "Sure, about forty pounds of steal and cement.  And besides, there's no fat on this one like our usual clients.  Fat gives you buoyancy.  There’s not an once of fat on him, he's all muscle, he'll sink like a rock."

Frankie pleads, "Ah come on guys, don't do this, please."

Vitale ignores Frankie and warns Jerry, "Okay we'll see.  But if he floats back up, you’ll have to get him and try it again."

"Na, I’ll just shoot him."

Vitale take issue, “No shooting, I like the drama of watching a person drowning.  All the struggling, gasping for air and that look on their face when they realize they’re about to die.  It makes me so alive.”

Jerry laughs, “That’s why I like being your partner, you find joy in our work.”

Vitale gives Frankie a godfather-like kiss on the lips, "It was great fucking you, good bye sugar hips."

And with a simple push from Vitale, Frankie was over the rail.  

Frankie shouted, "NO, WAIT!"

But as Frankie slid over the railing, he managed to fold his legs over the top rail.  The weight of the cinder block chained around his neck nearly cracked his spine in two when he came to a sudden stop above the water.  The cinder block dangling in the water did nothing to relieve the chain from choking him.  The two thugs were unpleasantly surprised by his athleticism and tried to unfold his legs.

Jerry growled, "Don't worry boy, it's only fifty to eighty feet deep here."

Vitale added, "Yeah, and the water is so clear you can see the bottom from here, so you'll be able to look up at us."

Frankie choked out, "Fuck you."

Jerry was getting winded, "Damn, he's got strong legs."

"Punch him in the nuts, that should knock him loose." Vitale huffed.

Jerry reached out and hammered away at Frankie's sack over an over as the inverted gigolo tried to swing away from the testicular pummeling while being choked by the chain around his neck.  He would have screamed out but his airflow was too restricted.  His nuts beaten and his air chocked off, Frankie could feel the energy in his legs fading fast.  He knew he could not hold on any longer and took as deep a breath as he could just as his legs failed him and let go of the railing.


As Frankie descended headfirst down through the depths of the Atlantic Ocean, he struggled furiously against the chains that bound him.  He could feel the pressure building up in his ears as the light became bluer and dimmer.  Then suddenly, his cement anchor hit bottom and he floated upside down as his beautiful long black hair wafted up and across his face.  Contorting his body against the cinder block chained around his neck, he was able to get a foothold and stand up on the ocean floor.  The cinder block scraped his back as it dangled from his neck.  In his desperation, he thought he could make a run for the shore and was able to take a few steps before he started to lose his breath.  He looked up at the boat floating above him and could see the two awful brutes waving at him.  The water was even clear and still enough for Frankie to tell those goons were smiling at him.  Realizing he was about to loose this battle and that his life would son be over, he used the last of his air for one last act of defiance.

Frankie looked up at Vitale and Jerry and shouted out boldly, “FUCK YOU!”

Frankie panicked when the water first filled his lungs, it hurt and his body automatically tried to cough it out.  But as his lungs surrendered to the water and his diaphragm stopped convulsing, an acquiescing serenity soothed Frankie as the weight of the cinder block pulled him back down and his body came to rest of the ocean floor.  As Frankie drifted off into an eternal slumber, the last bubbles floated out of his mouth as the ocean current and the salt water lifted his body upward.  Tethered to the cinder block, his beautiful yet lifeless body seemed to take flight like a kite tied to a child’s hand.

The two men in the boat above could clearly see the retired gigolo on the sandy floor under all that water and took a moment to admire their work and to make sure he didn’t spring back to life like they do in movies.

Vitale marveled, “Look how peaceful he looks, just kind of floating there.”

Jerry agreed, “Yeah, and a man with a body like that should die with no clothes on.  It’s what you call…you know…poetic.  Even more so knowing that some of our seed is down there inside of him.”

“Yes Jerry, it is.  And after watching him struggle, doesn’t it make you feel glad to be alive?”

“Yes it does, V.  Let’s go home to our wives.”

“That sounds like a good idea, Jerry.”

“Goodnight, Frankie”

“Yeah, goodnight, Frankie.”

And here lies Frankie Esposito, actor, gigolo and soon to be a part of the ocean’s ecosystem as his body becomes a food source for many of the sea creatures that live off the Florida coast, thereby doing more good for the Earth underwater in his afterlife than he did in his twenty-five years living on land.