The Oyabun's Son

“I’m bored!” Keiji whined.
Tamashiro looked over at his oyabun’s only son through shaded eyes. The kid sat slouched on the expensive couch, looking at Tamashiro with demanding eyes. Tamashiro was leaning against the wall.
“Why don’t you play your video games?” Tamashiro suggested.
Keiji rolled his eyes and said, “I’ve already beaten them all.”
Tamashiro pointed to the wide screen tv. “Watch something?”
“There’s nothing on.”
“Read a book?”
“I’d rather die.”
“Go outside and play in the fresh air?”
“It’s 10 at night.”
“At your age I was never home at 10.”
“Yeah,” said Keiji mockingly, “and you lived in a shack in Okinawa. Besides, it’s not safe.”
The kid was right. It wouldn’t be safe for him to go out where he could be kidnaped by rivals. That’s why his oyabun had ordered him to guard his son while he was on a trip. His son was on school break so they had the whole week to spend together. Since the maid had gone home, he and the kid were the only ones in the huge Tokyo apartment.
While Tamashiro didn’t live in a “shack” like Keiji said, he certainly hadn’t grown up in anything as fine as this apartment. He lived with his mother and two younger brothers (his father left the country without telling the mother of his children) in a one-room apartment in Ginowan. When he was fifteen he was fighting on the streets, not sitting around on a couch. The scar on his nose reminded him of the past. He had to struggle to get to where he was today.
“You’re American, aren’t you?” Keiji asked, disturbing his thoughts.
“My father was American,” Tamashiro answered.
“I hear you got a big dick,” Keiji said, saying the words in English.
“What?”
“American. Big dick,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“You don’t ask people things like that.”
Keiji got up off the couch. He was dressed in t-shirt and jeans, in constrast to Tamashiro’s tailored suit and dark shades. His dark brown hair fell over his eyes, begging for a good haircut. Tamashiro’s hair was closely cut and well groomed. Keiji slouched with an attitude towards Tamashiro. He looked up into his eyes as if he could see through the shades.
Keiji said, “Show me your big dick.”
“What? No.”
Keiji went to grab the older man’s crotch but Tamashiro moved away. The kid frowned.
“Show me your big dick,” he said again.
“It’s time for you to go to bed, young man,” Tamashiro answered.
“You don’t command me, Tama-kun...”
“Call me Tamashiro-san ,” he muttered.
“I command you,” the boy continued, “You probably think I’m spoiled. You are right. My father would do anything for me. I am his only son and since my mother passed away I’m all he has left of her. In a way, I am my father’s oyabun. The master of your master is your master too, right? You are my kobun.”
“Your father left me in charge of you.”
“Yes, he gave you the job of babysitting me.”
“I’m guarding you.”
Keiji laughed and said “You’re so stupid. I’m not in danger. You’re in danger of losing your job. That’s why he gave you a task my grandmother could do. You haven’t been doing well lately, have you, big guy?”
Tamashiro was afraid the boy was right. He had been down on the job lately. His oyabun had been so cold with him lately. Yet perhaps this job was a test. If he could handle this brat, he could handle anything.
“Go to bed,” Tamashiro commanded.
“You’re being mean,” Keiji whined, “Takahashi was mean too, and look where he is now.”
Takahashi was another kobun of his master. A year ago his master had him beaten within an inch of his life and threw him out. He refused to say what the poor man had done and commanded that no one talk to the outcast. Some rumored that Keiji was involved. Could it be true that his master would kick him out for being mean to his son?
“I’m not being mean. I’m just being firm. Your father will understand,” Tamashiro calmly stated.
“I’ll lie. I lied about Takahashi and he believed me,” Keiji said, “Now show me your dick, Tama-kun.”
It couldn’t be helped. Hopefully the kid would shut up after he did.
“Okay, I’ll show you,” he said.
Keiji eagerly went to grab his zipper but Tamashiro stopped him.
“I’ll unzip myself,” he grunted.
Tamashiro slowly unbuttoned his dress pants and pulled down his zipper. He was sickened by the kid’s eager expression. Keiji’s heavy breathing told him this was more than simply a power play. He was really into dicks. What was wrong with the kid? Tamashiro nervously fished his thick uncircumcised cock out of his boxers.
He had to admit: it was big. Maybe it had to do with his father or maybe it was just luck, but he had been blessed with wonderful endowments. He was tall and well-built and had a huge, thick dick. He always felt self-conscious of this, rather than simply being proud. When he went to baths with the other guys he always kept it covered. Despite this or because of this, rumors grew about him. Now this punk kid had found out what his oyabun didn’t even know.
“Sugoi...” Keiji said, his voice filled with rapt adoration, “Make it hard!”
“What?”
“I’ve got some ero magazines you could use.”
“You shouldn’t be looking at that stuff,” Tamashiro said weakly, a last attempt at displine.
Keiji smiled as if he had a great idea.
“Or I could make it hard myself...” he said, reaching for his beloved goal.
Tamashiro moved away, but Keiji said the word “Takahashi” and Tamashiro froze. The teenager crouched down near his crotch and started to gently stroke his foreskin with his work-free hands. Tamashiro shivered. He had not had a woman in a long time and missed feeling hands other than his own on his cock. Already he was getting hard. Keiji spat on his hand and used it as a lube. He moved the foreskin up and down at a perfect pace, changing the rhythm every once and a while. It felt so good that Tamashiro forgot that it was a boy doing this and not a woman. When he was fully hard, Keiji stopped suddenly and got up. Tamashiro’s cock bounced impaitently.
“What are you doing?” Tamashiro moaned, wishing the kid would finish the job.
Keiji starred at his crotch and rubbed his own crotch through his jeans. His eyes were blank and he was smiling wildly.
“Strip,” he said, not taking his eyes off the crotch.
For some reason Tamashiro did not baulk at this command. He took off his jacket and shirt, revealing the intricate traditional tattoos he received at initiation so many years ago. He had them refreshed each year so that they never faded. Dangerous animals fought in strangely harmonious ways across his back. Getting such a big tattoo wasn’t easy, but it was a pain that made him a yakuza. He pushed his boxers and tailored pants over his slightly softening cock and removed his socks and shoes.
“The shades, too,” the teenager said.
It was harder for him to take off the shades then anything else. His suit was just clothes but the shades were part of his face. Without them, this punk kid could see the fear in his eyes or worse, the longing. He had to obey rather than get a black eye from his oyabun.
Keiji circled the gangster, taking in his well-built body. Tamashiro could feel the boy’s breath on his body and even his touch. Suddenly, he felt a finger try to reach into his rosebud. Tamashiro turned around and grabbed the youth’s wrist.
“Don’t go there,” he growled.
“I want to fuck your ass,” Keiji said without fear.
“I’m not your fag,” Tamashiro growled again.
Undaunted, the youth said, “Come into my father’s bedroom and let me take you, or else beat me up and my father and twenty guys will take you. ”
“I hate you,” Tamashiro said.
Keiji said nothing as he led the man into the master bedroom. He took out a bottle of lube from a drawer and commanded the older, bigger man to go on his hands and knees. He took off his shirt and unzipped his pants. The boy already had a decent sized erection from playing with the huge cock. It was certainly much smaller but it wasn’t a little boy’s penis. Tamashiro momentarily thought to himself that the boy was quite attractive, but he pushed that thought away in disgust. He instead closed his eyes and wished for this to be over. He felt the boys thin, warm body up next to his buttocks. With too little lube, the boy’s eager dick suddenly plunged into him. Though it was only an average sized in Tamashiro’s virgin ass it felt huge. The rude pounding brought hurt him, yet some tiny bit of it turned him on enough that his cock started to harden again. Tamashiro felt ashamed and wished he could run away. What was wrong with the boy? What was wrong with Tamashiro, nearly having an orgasm from being taking like a woman? He heard the boy say “Takahashi” again, trying to threaten him. Why was he threated? The punk should be scared. He would make the punk scared.
With expert martial arts skills he flipped the boy over and pinned him to the bed. The boy tried to look angry, but his dick shrunk with fear. Tamashiro felt rage and arousal through his blood and focused on the boy’s rosebud. He pulled off the boy’s jeans and push up his legs so his asshole faced him. He then pushed his huge dick into the tiny body, ignoring any cries. If Keiji’s cock had made Tamashiro’s ass sore, Tamashiro’s cock tore Keiji apart. Tamashiro moaned as he pumped madly in and out of the bloody ass. It was more exhilirating than any fight, than any high speed race, than any sex even. Even as he came he still pounded him, mixing the blood with his cum. After he had came all he could, he was exhausted and removed his cock and laid down next to the boy on the bed. Before he could fall asleep, he heard little sobs next to him and the reality of what he had done hit him.
He had violently raped his oyabun’s son when he was supposed to protect him. This was more than a finger offense. This was a disemboweling offence. Nobody, definitely not the boss, would believe the boy raped him first. While his honorable side told him to stay, his stronger self-preservation told him to leave now. His fear overpowered his exhaustion. He quickly got dressed and left the apartment. As he walked out he felt like the doorman knew what he had done, but he knew that was just paranoia.
What would he do now? He had enough money saved to leave the country, perhaps even go to America. He would have to struggle to get to the top again, but that was just his karma. He said a silent prayer and walked away.