Date: Fri, 12 Dec 2008 15:48:06 +0100 From: A.K. Subject: I was Robbed, or was I? 2/6 (beginnins) ---------------------------- I WAS ROBBED, OR WAS I? by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2008 written on January 8, 1993 translated by the author English text kindly revised by Neil ----------------------------- USUAL DISCLAIMER "I WAS ROBBED, OR WAS I?" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest. ----------------------------- CHAPTER 2 Massimo parked his car in front of his house. While he was quickly climbing the steps leading to the entrance hall, he recalled his relationship with Enrico - it had really been beautiful, but it lasted too little. In fact the day Enrico discovered he was HIV positive, in spite that Massimo told him he didn't care at all as it would be enough to take the usual precautions, Enrico decided to leave him. Massimo did uselessly insist, uselessly discussed the matter with him telling him he loved him, that he wanted to live with him and renewing his proposal to move and live with him... Enrico instead moved to a community of HIV positive people, and unhappily lived there just for a few months - soon, in fact, too soon, he died filled with morphine to avoid feeling the atrocious pain that was tormenting him in the last times. Massimo cried for days and days... He entered the hall, made a greeting gesture to the doorkeeper and with the lift went up to the fourth floor. In a week he had to pay the rent, in ten days the car instalment. Then he would soon receive the gas, electricity, and telephone bills... Shit! However he tried to turn his budget, the money he had was not enough. But, at least during this weekend, he decided, he didn't want to go on thinking about that, because he didn't want to spoil it. He would enjoy this weekend, he decided, he still didn't know how, but he would enjoy it! He took out of the pocket the keys and opened his apartment's door. At first his brain didn't register the oddities that his eyes were seeing. He just felt that there was something wrong, but didn't understand what. Then suddenly all was clear - his video-recorder has disappeared, as well the CD player and his laptop MacIntosh. Massimo threw a glance through the open door of the bedroom. In the centre of his bed, spread in disorder, there were the pieces of the casket where he kept his few golden objects, broken and empty, the open and also empty tin where he kept his money and a wooden box, open and empty as well, where he had his collection of silver coins, all mint state, that had belonged to his father. He had been robbed! And this in spite that the building had two door-keepers working shifts and being on duty twenty-four hours, seven days a week, and that each month were so expensive! Moreover, he lived at the fourth floor. To burgle him, that son of a bitch, had had to load everything on his shoulders and pass in front of the doorkeeper! How was it possible that the man didn't notice anything? Totally pissed off. Almost trembling with frustration and anger, Massimo looked around at his raided apartment. He didn't know whether to bang his head against the wall, or fall on the floor and start screaming. If before entering his apartment he was thinking he was in the shit, now he was so even more than before! He was still there, standing like a dummy, when he noticed something odd on the sofa seat. It seemed a metallic object. "But what the fuck..." he murmured taking it in his hand - it was a pistol. Loaded. A thief doesn't "forget" his pistol when he goes to do a coup. Therefore... "Good, filthy piece of shit, you now raise your arse and came out immediately, before I shoot at your balls and make a colander of you!" Shouting these words made at once feel him better. Brandishing the pistol and waving it in front of him, he aimed towards the bedroom. "Did you hear, bastard of a broken-arse? Show immediately your filthy fucking face before I..." "Yes, yes..." a voice yelled in answer, "Don't get mad, alright? I'm coming out, I'm coming. Just don't get mad." Massimo blinked then, his eyes wide, looked at the bedspread wave several times, move, then a hand came out, then a tuft of hair. "Christ, boss," the voice went on, "wait, I'm trying to free myself from under there. Your bed is so low, fucking shit! I'm not able to come out, my belt is possibly blocked on the bedspring..." The boy looked towards Massimo who again blinked. Possibly that boy was not more than nineteen or twenty years of age, seemed like a Sicilian and was more beautiful than the majority of the boys with whom Massimo fucked along his life. The boy looked up to him, his black big eyes wide and innocent. "Calm down, calm down, alright?" the boy went on pushing forward a hand spread in front of himself, while with the other was clutching the floor wall to wall carpeting trying to drag his body out of under the bed. "My arse seems blocked under there, shit..." the boy grumbled feeling his efforts were useless. "You disgusting little cock-sucker, you tried to rob me!" Massimo grunted. "You're wrong, boss," the boy said in a mocking tone, "I didn't try at all, I did it!" and looked upwards to Massimo. The young man had crouched in front of him and was now aiming the pistol to his head. When the boy found himself looking inside the barrel hole of his own pistol widened his eyes. "Hey, boss, keep cool. All your shit is still out here, in my car's trunk. I will bring back everything, I swear. I will bring everything back and put everything in order, all right? But move away that damned pistol..." "Fuck yourself!" Massimo answered, "I don't move away an eye from you not even a moment, at least until the police..." "Come on, boss!" the boy said with a grimace. "You don't really need calling the cops, do you? As I told you, all you things are still in my car's trunk. I will give you back everything, really everything, I swear..." "How the fucking hell could you enter here?" Massimo asked him, dryly. ÒEasy. You never shut your toilet window, there on the balcony. I noticed it in the last days, with my field glasses, from the park. So then, as a tenant went out, I slipped in the hall while the doorkeeper was cleaning the stairways. I took the lift to the fourth floor, got out from the landing window and jumped in your balcony and the game was done. Easy like a children's game.Ó ÒBastard son of a bitch! If I didn't come home earlier than usualÉÓ ÒIf you weren't back earlier I wouldn't have got this diddle.Ó the boy murmured while his body was finally able to wriggle out from under the bed. ÒI would have gone out through the door. I went back only for your fucking TV set and the contents of that casket on the bed. What a fucking idiot I've been! If I just contented myself, at that timeÉÓ The boy was kneeling on the carpeting and was about to stand up. ÒHey, hey, hey!Ó Massimo barked brandishing the pistol and standing up, ÒKeep still where you are or else I will press the trigger!Ó ÒShit, boss! You caught me red handed, OK? You had me, all right? I will give you back everything, what the fuck is your fucking problem? You have my fucking pistol in your hand, don't you?Ó the boy said, and hit his forehead with his hand, ÒAnd I've to warn you, be careful as I didn't put the safety-catchÉ my god how careless I've beenÉÓ ÒVery good.Ó Massimo said with a sneer. ÒSo I can shoot at you with your same fucking bullets. Isn't this amusing?Ó The boy's face immediately assumed a disconsolate expression. ÒAlright, alright boss. Call those fucking cops. All as you want. JustÉ don't get upset, eh? Your things are all still retrievable, aren't they? I didn't get to pinch anything, did I?Ó ÒRight so, you didn't succeed.Ó Massimo said, his head buzzing, his blood drumming at his temples. For a moment he looked at the boy kneeling in front of him. He confusedly thought that he really was a beautiful boy, with a face and a body really wonderful, exactly the type he liked. ÒSo, thenÉÓ the boy whispered, his eyes wide open but staring at the man, Òdo you want to shoot at me or what else?Ó ÒI'll call the police. They know what to do with a piece of shit like you.Ó The boy sighed and rotated his eyes, ÒWonderful.Ó he murmured. ÒI turned up at a faggot's apartment, and he now plays at Mister-How-Decent.Ó ÒA faggot?Ó Massimo roared. The boy simply turned his big eyes towards him, with an innocent expression, ÒI earlier looked for a few seconds the tape that is in your video-recorder. You know, the one titled Massimo-5. It didn't seem at all like a porno movie, in my opinionÉ it was simply a house made film just showing you who fucks your little boyfriendÉÓ Massimo suddenly felt like violated. His blood got at his head. That was a private recording where he was fucking with his former loverÉ and a stranger saw it. But the boy, revealing it, unwillingly did a rash step, he in fact had fully awakened the young man's erotic fantasies. That little thief was out of any doubt a beautiful boy, more than desirable. It was a pity they met in a situation like that one. His clothes wrapped his body revealing a harmonious and absolutely sexy structure. ÒMay I stand up?Ó the boy asked, a tone of impatience clearly surfacing in his voice. ÒMy knees are starting toÉÓ ÒFuck yourself!Ó Massimo hissed, disturbed by the boy's tone. ÒNo, not today, darling. Today I don't feel likeÉÓ and while saying so the boy slowly raised on a foot then on the other, standing up very slowly and with caution, his eyes moving from Massimo's eyes to the pistol he had in his hands, then back. Massimo did nothing to stop him. ÒThank you.Ó the boy said hinting a roguish smile, Òit was starting to hurt exactly like I had to go to the church for the Mass with MumÉÓ ÒKeep still!Ó Massimo barked. His fantasies of a moment had made him slacken the control. He turned towards the telephone determined to call the police. Suddenly the boy catapulted himself like a rocket towards him. Massimo was about turning again to face him, but the boy struck against him with the violence of a train at full speed. The young man lost his balance falling backwards, and the boy fell on top of him. Massimo waved his arms in a desperate attempt not to fall and the pistol slipped away from his hand and flew far away through the air, landing on the living room floor while Massimo and the boy's bodies fell on the bedroom floor. Massimo tried to block the boy and started a fight with him, who for a moment seemed to escape him, stood up and tried to go to the living room towards his pistol. But he stumbled on the arms of the young man who in his turn was trying to stand up, so they fell down again. But the boy, falling down, knocked his head against the chest of drawers with a very strong bang, and lost consciousness. Massimo, still a little dazed for the fast and violent sequence of these facts, pulled away from under the inert body of the boy and slowly stood up, without losing his sight. The boy's T-shirt was raised on his chest revealing a wide part of his soft, olive and golden skin, over the studded belt on his jeans. The young man went at once to retrieve the pistol and went near the lifeless boy again. Still a little dazed, and with a strong feeling of frustration and rage in him, his brain imagined how could be that boy nakedÉ and his fantasy saw the boy kneeling and beseeching him not to call the police, declaring he was ready to give him head, to let him fuck his arse, and that tossed while he sank in the still virgin hole of that macho boyÉ Then, becoming aware of the real opportunity he had at hand reach, as after all that boy spontaneously but illegally went in his small bachelor's apartment, slipped the pistol under his trousers' belt, went quickly to the bathroom and went back with the roll of the strong nylon rope he used to hang out the washing. All his depression, the trauma for having lost his job, the frustration for not having found a lover for too much time, the fact he underwent a burglary attempt by that boy, so beautiful and so cheekyÉ all vanished as if by magic, like snow under the sun. That boy would be in his power for a good whileÉ possibly even all that fucking weekend long. The boy emitted a low moan and his body lightly shivered. Quickly, Massimo took him under his armpits and dragged him towards the bed. He was a dead weight but the young man managed to hoist him on his king size bed and to make him lay on his belly, his head almost brushing against the bed-head. Without waiting that the lifeless body gave again a life sign, he made one of the ropes turn around the boy's waist and tied the ends, well stretched to the iron ties at the bed sides. Then, without even taking a breath, he tied the boy's wrists at the bed-head, then his ankles at the bed end, so that the boy's body was in the shape of a big ÒXÓ. He tested the ropes - the knots were well made, the ropes well tense, the boy safely immobilized. The boy moved slightly. Massimo, standing near the bed, looked at him and admired the delightful cures of his small buttocks tightly wrapped by the very tight jeans. Yes, he thought, he wanted him naked! He then hurriedly untied the boy's ankles, bustled under his pelvis until he opened his belt and unbuttoned the jeans, then took away the boy's tennis shoes, the holed socks and finally also his black and tight jeans. The boy was wearing worn out boxers and a tear let see one of his delightful buttocks. His young skin, smooth and soft like that of a juicy ripe peach, was visible through the tear in all its splendour. That fucking little thief was really wonderful. Massimo noticed that besides his clothes rather in bad conditions, it seemed that the boy cared well for his body. He saw that his feet nails were well trimmed and the feet clean. He then had a doubt. He again moved at the side of the bed and raised the boy's T-shirt, with two or three strong pulls, making it slip over his head and go up as much as his tied wrists allowed him. He then carefully observed the veins of boy's arms - happily no signs of syringe. Therefore that boy, at least, was not a drug addict. Massimo noticed that also the hands nails were well trimmed. The boy gave out a faint moan and moved his head. Without wasting more time taking off also his boxers, Massimo went immediately back at the bed end and firmly tied again the boy's ankles. The boy, finally recovering his senses, tried to move, to stand up. ÒWhat the fucking shitÉÓ he murmured. ÒOh, Christ!Ó he exclaimed and shook his head. Then saw Massimo standing near the bed and saw he was searching through his wallet. ÒHey, boss, that's mine, my personal thing!Ó he protested. Massimo didn't answer; the boy now had an incredulity expression painted in his eyes. ÒI didn't rummage in your wallet, it's not fair!Ó he protested with a vexed expression and just then he seemed to realize he was immobilized and firmly tied on the bed. He then looked again towards Massimo and said in a low voice, ÒShit, I should have lost a scene or two!Ó For the first time since he had set foot in his home, Massimo had a smile. Feeling really pleased with the turn that the situation had taken he went to his desk, opened a drawer and took out long scissors for paper. The boy was trying not to lose sight of him not even for a moment. ÒHa,Ó the prisoner said in a mocking tone, not at all frightened, ÒI already went to the barber shop this same morning, I don't need a hair-cut, thank you.Ó Massimo didn't say a word, but his smile accentuated. He took in his finger the elastic band of the boy's worn-out boxers, slipped under it the scissors and started to cut the cloth along a leg. ÒChrist, boss!Ó the boy protested while his body was stiffening instinctively trying to press against the mattress, Òwhat the fucking shit are youÉÓ The right part of the cloth fell aside, folding down. Massimo made his hand rub on the soft roundness of the boy's buttock that he had so totally uncovered, feeling its agreeable warmth. ÒOh shit, shit, shit!Ó the boy muttered, ÒHere I am fixed up for good! I'm tied like a salami on the bed of a fucking shitty faggot and with my arse exposed!Ó Massimo gave a strong slap that resounded sharply in the room silence. The boy's arse had a shudder and redness in the shape of the hand immediately appeared on the soft buttock's muscle. ÒHey!Ó the boy protested, ÒYou can play with it if you like, but you don't need to hurt me, do you?Ó The young man, visibly amused, didn't answer but started to cut the boxers along the other leg. ÒChrist, man,Ó the boy murmured increasingly vexed, Òthis was the last clean underpants I had, and you are now ruining them soÉÓ Massimo again didn't utter a word. He carefully raised the central part of the cut boxers and made them slip between the spread legs of the boy. That little arse was the most arousing and beautiful amongst all those that Massimo had had a chance to admire up to that moment. It was small, firm, round and velvety at his touch. He admired the light track that his fingers left on the silky and almost invisible down while he tested its softness. For some seconds the young man let his fingers rub up and down between the boy's legs, lingering at times on the hairless balls, nervously nestled between the strong but slender legs of the boy. ÒWhat the fucking hell does he have in mind, this butch bottom?Ó the boy murmured, turning his head to the opposite side. Finally Massimo talked, his voice cold and his tone wary, ÒOh, I don't still know exactly. Something simple but anyway amusing. Possibly as a starter getting head, then a couple of beautiful, strong fucks in your little arse. How do you like this programme?Ó ÒOh, wonderful!Ó the boy answered, annoyed, Òthis will be my dayÉÓ then the boy sharply turned again his head to look at the man, ÒListen, boss,Ó he started in a reasonable tone, Òall I did has been to swipe a couple of your things. Shit! Aren't you going to kill me for so little, are you? Moreover you are surely insured and you could anyway have everything paid back, isn't it so? Come on, let's try to be reasonable, can't we?Ó ÒBut they were my things, not yours.Ó Massimo sighed, then added, ÒI had had to work hard toÉÓ ÒBut what the fucking shit do you think I'm doing? I'm selling toy balloons at the amusement park? Do you think that the risk of breaking his neck bone and jumping at the fourth floor is not a hard work? If I missed your balcony I now would haveÉÓ ÒYou didn't miss it.Ó ÒNo, but I could, Christ! And then I would have smashed upÉÓ While they were talking so, Massimo was going on fondling the boy's pert little arse, and now an inquisitive finger was lightly but insistently rubbing on the bud hidden in the furrow of the small buttocks. ÒBut you didn't smash upÉÓ ÒThat's why you would now like to smash down your fucking tool into my arse?Ó the boy protested. ÒCome on, Bastiano, would you have liked better to smash down in the court yard floor?Ó Massimo, who read the boy's name on the ID paper in the wallet, giggled insisting some more with his finger on the hot hidden hole. ÒBastiano!Ó almost roared the boy. ÒSebastiano, if you please!Ó Massimo shrug his shoulders, ÒOn your papers is written BastianoÉÓ ÒHey, cock-sucker! It's my name, would I know well how IÉ and anyway it's Sebastiano!Ó Right at that moment Massimo pushed with more determination on the boy's hole, moving the dry finger that started to penetrate for a few millimetres in the hot hole. The boy jumped on the bed, stiffened, tried desperately to contract his small buttocks, shut as strongly as possible his sphincter trying to prevent the man's finger intrusion. ÒHoly shit, bastard!Ó the boy whined, ÒBe careful there! That's not the fucking Mount Blanc tunnel!Ó The man sneered, ignoring him and his finger went on to slowly open his way a little deeper into the boy's hot channel, in spite of his efforts to avoid it. ÒOh lord, Christ and saint Nicolas!Ó the boy moaned, Òif at least you trimmed your nailsÉÓ Massimo went on finger-fucking him. ÒBy the way I've to prevent youÉÓ the boy added trying to flatten more against the mattress in an useless but instinctive attempt to escape that finger, and with a desperate but sarcastic tone in his voice, Òfor lunch I ate beans, three full rationsÉÓ Massimo's finger was at last fully immersed in the boy's hole and reached the boy's prostate. Sebastiano emitted a sharp wheeze and his body had a start unwillingly arching up towards the inquisitive finger of the man. ÒDid you find what you were looking for?Ó the boy asked in a low voice, trying to be still ironical, while his anus was throbbing almost with his own will, trying to adapt to that unwanted but unavoidable intrusion. Massimo was amusing himself, because for one time he was feeling really the master of the situation. The fact that the boy was reacting in that way, all summed up with a certain dignity, not as a snivelling coward, rather trying to act as a little tough guy even in that desperate situation, was increasing even more the man's amusement. ÒWhat would you think, Sebastiano, if I now shoved the barrel of your fucking pistol inside your nice little hole, and I fuck you with it, and when you come I push it all inside and push the trigger? A real Sex Pistol, don't you agree? It first fucks you, then it comesÉÓ The boy looked upwards to Massimo, his lips folded in a mocking grimace, his eyes half closed for the nuisance of that inquisitive finger, then tried to shrug his shoulders. ÒGo on, cock-sucker. Made me come than shoot at me. Anyway this fucking bed is yours. It's you who have to sleep, afterwards, in my spunk and in my blood, isn't it so? But then, what will you tell the cops?Ó ÒYou really think you are a tough, don't you? As anyway all the dick-heads.Ó Massimo laughed at him. ÒYou surely can say it, man. And I have the bigger and harder cock of the entire neighbourhood. And I know very well that you faggots dream of it all day and night long, to get at it!Ó Massimo then slipped out his finger from the boy's arse and pushed his hands between the boy's thighs to explore his virile attributes. The balls were warm and soft and his member, not yet totally hard but already agreeably firm, brushed against his hand's palm. The boy was right - he really had a nice piece of meat there between his legs. Massimo never fondled one so big even though he was only sporting a semi. While the man was fondling with pleasure the boy's genitals, he made his hand turn and went up with his thumb pushing it against the hole he had just left and pushing it inside. The boy again protested, ÒHey, man, what are you trying to do? Do you want to make me die?Ó Then his tone changed, ÒAlright, alright,Ó he said in an exaggeratedly resigned tone, Ònow take away that finger from there, please, come on. Shit! Listen, boss, if you let me go, besides giving you back all your things, I will give you the best blow-job you could ever have dreamed of. Promise!Ó ÒYou surely will give me it!Ó Massimo countered, amused. ÒYes, yes, sure.Ó The boy nodded. ÒBut now take away that cursed finger, please. You saw it, don't you? I can do nothing as you totally immobilized me. Let's try to reason, please, to come to an agreement, boss, come on.Ó he said, but without imploring him. Massimo took away his hand with studied slowness. Just for the sake of a scene, he smelled his fingers. The boy was really clean; his fingers weren't dirty and had no bad smell at all. ÒShit!Ó the boy exclaimed, while looking at him from down upwards, studying his expression, ÒI bet that if I asked you to lick my hole, you would even have done itÉ and possibly even enjoyed itÉÓ ÒNo, but you gave me a really good idea - you really can nicely lick my arse-hole, why not?Ó ÒI would rather be killed than do it! I'm not a pervert like you are!Ó ÒBut you just said you want to give me a blow-job, to suck my cockÉÓ ÒOnly because I know you would likeÉ and just to make you calm downÉ I really wouldn't like at all. I never did such filthy things.Ó ÒAlright, I believe you. Anyway it would be better you did it to me, because if you go to jail, young and handsome as you are, you know that you will become at once the little whore of all the inmates, don't you know? Or rather, you already went in a jail, and you even enjoyed a lot being fucked in the arse by all those horny inmates.Ó ÒNo, I never went to jail, therefore they would give me a suspended sentence.Ó ÒYou can't be sureÉ it depends on the judgeÉ and amongst my friends there are more than a judge, so I could ask them to let you have that interesting experience, couldn't I?Ó Massimo lied to amuse himself. ÒJust think, they would fuck you every day and not less than once per day. Doesn't this idea seduce you?Ó ÒStop it, come on! Judges cannot do as they please, can they? Law is lawÉ they will put me on probationÉÓ the boy protested, but his tone was less self-confident than before. ----------------------------- CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 3 ----------------------------- In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is http://andrejkoymasky.com If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English translations, so that I can put on-line more of my stories in English please e-mail at andrej@andrejkoymasky.com ---------------------------