Merchello

Ok this chapter is kind of setting up the next one and there is a little violence, but when isn't there when dealing with the likes of Chico but oh well. Please tell me what you think about it so ill know whether or not to keep writing.

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A loud banging at the door woke him from his half-sleep on the floor. Merchello pulled himself to his feet and stumbled to the door trying to bring himself fully awake, but to no avail. He pulled the door as far as the chain would let him and seeing Chico’s face glaring at him he shut the door took off the chain and threw the door open, walking towards the kitchen to find his work clothes.

“Iz frydee, Bitch, waea jeenz.” Chico growled at him. “takem off.”

Merchello turned back to him, remembering that the new management declared Fridays ‘jeans only’ day, but he was confused at Chico’s last comment. His mind was still in a fog of half-sleep “Huh?”

Chico was almost upon him. “Ya herd ma, Bitch.”

“We’re gonna be late, Chico.” he said taking a step towards the door trying to walk past Chico, which, had he been fully awake, he would have never done; he would have never gotten close to him if he could avoid it.

Chico backhanded him jolting him from his half sleep and knocking him into the counter and rattling his brain as he fell to the floor. Chico gripped his shoulders and slammed him against the cabinets. “We got tyme.”

Chello sat there leaning against the cabinets looking up at Chico, finally realizing what was going on. He took a deep breath and got up on his knees. He knew he couldn’t physically endure Chico taking him dry again this soon, so he reached for Chico’s belt. “Let me taste you first, sexy.” he whispered, making his voice husky to convince Chico to let him.

Chico smiled at his victory over his Bitch and nodded, but didn’t move to undo his clothing, leering down at Chello.

Merchello knew that Chico liked to have his clothes removed for him, unless he was impatient. Chello took his time slowly removing the larger man’s clothing piece by piece. He knew the more he got Chico worked up the quicker he would cum and the less he had to keep the man in his mouth. Once all of Chico’s lower clothing was around his ankles he blew lightly on the tip of the man’s hardon.

No matter how many times he did this, he could never get used to it. He ran his tongue around his mouth to create more spit, the wetter Chico was the less it would hurt when he entered him. Chico took the look and tongue movement as anticipation, which excited him more. After a moment Chello put his hands on Chico’s hips to keep him from thrusting too far down his throat. Chico wasn’t extremely long, but he was wide, thick and strong, and when he was hard it was like sucking on a piece of steel.

Chico’s laughter and other sounds of pleasure got more primitive as Chello moved his head back and forth, sucking each time he pulled back. After a moment Chico snapped, he was about to cum and he wanted to be in control, so he grabbed Chello by the hair and slammed his head against the cabinets and began to ram himself deeper and deeper into Chello’s throat. Just when Chello thought he might pass out from lack of air Chico came, his eyes rolling around in his head as he released himself into Chello’s mouth.

When Chico pulled out, Merchello forced himself to swallow; he had made the mistake of spitting once and would never do it again. It was always best to keep Chico happy.

Chico stood there watching him, waiting, savoring the feeling he had just had, but still waiting. Chello removed his shoes and took off his jeans and briefs and threw them across the room and out of the way, while Chico knelt between his knees. Chico grabbed Merchello’s shirt and tore it off over his head, then ran his fingers down Chello’s chest. The smaller man had always been an object of lust for him. It had taken him three years, but the dark eyed Italian now wanted him as well (or so he thought) and knew how to please him. The first year had been the roughest, changing the younger, smaller man’s role from a useless driver to a sex toy, but it was now paying off.

Chico pressed close to him, trapping him on his knees against the cabinets. Chico grabbed Chello’s legs and put them around his hips and sat the smaller man on his upper thighs.

Chello closed his eyes and let his head fall against Chico’s shoulder. Oh, God, not this. He had to think of a way to get out of this one, but he knew Chico could not be persuaded, he liked this way the best.

Chello knew he was shaking. “Chico… I… I won’t b-be able to work.”

Chico laughed viciously. “Dats wat the bar is fa.” he then gripped Chello’s head with both hands and pressed their lips together, raping Chello’s mouth with his tongue.

Chello felt cloth against his thigh and closed his eyes, his shaking getting worse. Chico was drying himself off, he liked the friction better. He took one of Chello’s hands and put it on his now dry shaft, wanting him to get it where it was supposed to go, then Chico picked him up by his waist and pulled him against his chest sliding him down slowly till he came in contact with his hardon. Immediately Chico thrust upward and pulled him down at the same time, making Chello scream with pain. Then he slid him back up just as fast almost pulling all the way out then thrust and pulled harder. This process got harder and faster with each pull.

Merchello was in an awkward position; he had no leverage on which to alleviate the force by which Chico tore at him. He screamed until he was hoarse, then his screams faded into weak whimpering; he would never cry in front of anyone, much less Chico, but he was getting close.

Chico could feel warm wetness flowing down his sac and thighs, and he delighted in the fact that his young toy was covering him with fresh blood. The entire weight of Merchello was on him, almost unconscious laying in his arms as he forced himself as deep as possible inside him, loving the feel of the tight resistance. Chico came just as Chello was about to pass out.

When he was finished he pulled out and laid the young man on the floor and walked, blood dripping from between his legs, to the bathtub and turned on the water, washing the blood from himself. Then he walked back to Merchello who was curled up on the floor shaking. He looked down at him a moment, realizing the young Italian wasn’t as spirited and lively as he had been, but it had taken so long to break him, he would not discard of him so soon, but it would be interesting to add some new blood to their pleasure. Chico gathered Chello up in his arms and carried him to the tub and dropped him in it.

“Ya got 10 minutz.” he said putting on his clothes and walking out the door.

Why Merchello didn’t sink down into the water and end it, he didn’t know. But one thing was for sure, about 8 minutes later Merchello emerged from the building dressed and walking on his own. His gait was strange, but he made it to the car and fell into the passenger seat.

Chico looked over at him watching him as the smaller man put his head in his hands.
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She waited until they pulled off before she got out of the car. At first she wasn’t sure she had the right building. She had followed him from the gas station but had lost him just as he turned down this street. She had retrieved her car and waited until he had come out. She didn’t know who the big guy he was riding with was, but she didn’t like the look if him. He had those leering animal eyes the unnerved her.

She could tell he was in pain by the way he walked to the car, and she had a feeling that this brute of a man was the cause of it. She snuck into the building, staying close to the shadows. Now she had the task of finding out which apartment was his.

A young man about 7 years old came walking down the stairs. She didn’t know why he was alone, but maybe this was her opportunity.

“Hey, can you help me?” she asked sweetly, looking at him as he stopped halfway down the last flight of stars.

“Maybe.” he said looking her in her eyes.

“The man that just left, do you know which apartment is his?”

He put out his hand. “You might have to jog my memory.”

She pulled out a twenty and held it up for him. “Show me and its yours.”

He nodded. “You talking about the dark haired guy or the bald one?”

“The dark haired one, smaller, Italian looking.” she answered.

“Sure I know where he stays.” the young man led her up to the third floor to apartment F. He stood there looking at her as she tried the door.

She looked down at him. He was holding a lock-pick device looking bored.

“Gonna cost you another 20 to get inside.” he said.

She nodded. “But I have to make sure it’s really his apartment first.”

He nodded and picked the lock quickly, holding the door open for her.

She looked around the apparently uninhabited apartment, about to be mad at the young man, until she noticed the clothing in a box in the corner. She walked to the box and noticed the shirt he had worn to work earlier that day and let out a deep breath. She handed the young man $40 and thanked him before she continued looking around the room.

There was nothing in the apartment. No personal items, pictures, furniture, nothing. There was a tub in the corner of the room and a sink beside it and cabinets were lined underneath the counter in the kitchen area, but all in all it was a small empty room.

Katie ran her hands over her arms to get rid of the chill that came over her. She was so worried about him, something had to be wrong. After all the years she had known him, he had progressively gotten more subdued, more introverted. Something was slowly killing him, and she had a feeling it was a certain overly large, bald man, but she couldn’t be for sure. She walked towards the kitchen area and spotted the pool of blood near the cabinets.

That man with the evil eyes had done something to him, she was sure of it. She had to find a way to help him. Pulling her eyes from the blood on the floor she went to the cabinets and each one she opened she found empty. She was about to give up when she opened the last one and found his clothes stacked and folded neatly she went through them, but found nothing significant.

She walked around the room. There had to be something. She didn’t know what she was looking for but there had to be some proof of a past, someone at sometime who cared about him, who could help him.

She found the trick board quite by accident. Tripping and almost falling she had jammed the toe of the sandal under a loose board in the floor. When she pulled her shoe out and the board came with it, and she noticed some small objects hidden under it.

Reaching into the hole, she pulled out large manila envelope. She sat on the floor and began to empty the contents. Laying them out gently, she pulled out a drawing of a house that appeared to have been done by a child of about 6, a Kodak of a man and woman and four children, three of which were boys, and a short letter written by apparently the same child as the drawing.

She read the letter slowly and began to cry:

Dear mommy and daddy,

Im sorry I ran away. I was sad. I didnt know where to go and when Mr. Johnson picked me up I though I was safe. He hurt me mommy. I couldt stop him. Why did he hurt me? Why did I have to stay with him? I ran away from him too. I dont know where I am. I dont know if I will ever get home. im sorryi keep running away. I don’t know who I am or where I need to be.
Tavi

She put the letter and the pictures back in the envelope and replaced the board. She made her way back to her car, the envelope held tight against her chest. She had something; she hoped it would be enough.
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thats it guys but i also wanted to thank Sonyasha for the nice review and im posting as i finish the chapeters let me know what you think of this one.