Tales from the Twine Part 1

Here's a sex scene from the twine game, reformatted a bit into a short story for you guys, hope you enjoy!

If you'd rather not read it on here, I'm also attaching a text file to this post as well.

Have a great week! :D

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You wipe the sweat from your brow. This negotiation is going way worse than you thought it would. The air in the restaurant is so thick you can almost feel it choking you. If your hands gripped the table any harder the damn thing might snap.

One wrong word could spell disaster.

"So..." the don begins. "Why should I let you try my patience?"

Your mouth goes dry.

"Well your donness, uh... donerino. I'm tailing some weird activity and I was-"

"You were hoping I'd stick my nose in this business?"

"A little bit. Yeah. A few guys have gone missing and it's getting out of hand."

The older man sighs and stares at the ceiling for a bit, twirling his mustache almost absentmindedly.

"And this is my problem because...?"

This sets you off big time. You slam your fists on the table hoping to get your point across.

"Because it could be you next!" you bark, standing up quick enough that the knives and forks on the table rattle a bit.

The don pinches the bridge of his nose. 

"Joey?" he says seemingly to no one in particular. Within a few moments a tall musclebound mook with small black pompadour and the thickest darkest eyebrows you've ever seen strides into the room. His multiple chain necklaces clanging with each step.

"Yeah boss?" he asks with a purse of his lips and a crack of his hairy knuckles. He definitely knows what's coming.

"Please remove this moron from my sight. Go out back and...take care of him."

You slamming your fists on the table did not get your point across. In fact it made things a lot worse.

Joey grabs you by your collar and yanks you down a hallway with so much force you don't even have enough time to get a word in edgewise. The chair you were sitting in until you made this extremely poor decision falls over to the side, as if it got "taken care of" too. As you make your way down the hallway people stick their heads out of rooms to get a look at what's going on. A few of them smirk. One mutters "That poor fuck..." under his breath. This probably happens a lot in a mafia controlled restaurant.

Eventually you reach the door to the alley. He pushes you out and follows, stopping to lock the door behind him.

"You don't gotta do this!" you plead to the musclehead.

"Yeah I do actually. Whenever the boss needs someone taken care of, I gotta do it, because I'm the take-carer. Cappychay?"

Wait, what?

"Cappychay?" you blurt out, bewildered.

"You know, like, do you understand?"

Holy shit this guy meant capiche.

"Y-yeah I understand. Capiche."

"We got no time to get you any food, sorry. I gotta take care of you all quick like. Besides I don't think they serve that here."

They definitely didn't hire Joey for his brains.

He clears his throat. "Okay drop your pants."

"W-why?" you stammer, equal parts confused and scared.

"I don't never take care of guys with their pants on. Now drop em."

Too scared to move.

The thug clicks his tongue and grabs you by the hips. In one swift motion he drops your pants AND underwear down to your ankles. Whatever the hell this is, he's got this down to a motherfuckin art form.

Joey gets down on his knees and starts fondling your balls gently in one hand, like a jeweler inspecting some fancy diamonds.

"Nice," he chuckles. After a second he opens his mouth and starts sucking hard on your balls. This is nothing like any "taking care of" you've seen in the movies.

Hell, this would make em a lot more interesting.

You can feel him rub his tongue over your pair while he's still sucking on them intently. It takes pretty much all your strength to stay standing with this kinda treatment, and even then your legs get a little shaky.

He doesn't like this one bit. With one meaty palm he presses you against the building's brick wall and pulls your balls out of his mouth with an audible pop.

"Don't move while I'm takin care of you. Real rude you know," he chides like you'd made some kind of social etiquette mistake. It's not your fault, you never read "Ten Things to Never do While a Mobster Sucks Your Nuts".

He decides to move to your dick now, and after gently putting it between his lips he starts sucking your cock so intensely you'd think this is what he was meant to do in life.

You curl your toes and try to grip something with your hands but all thats around you is brick. Your breathing picks up and he lets out a small chuckle. The thug runs his tongue over your cockhead in a way that makes your balls churn and makes you wish you accidentally insulted a mob boss sooner.

After a couple minutes of being "taken care of" like this he pulls himself off your dick and takes a few deep breaths.

"I feel your dick twitching so you're pretty close to being done. Brace yourself cuz you're gonna be remembering this one all week," he says looking you straight in the eyes. The sincerity in his voice makes it sound like he's warning you about some kind of rollercoaster ride, not a blowjob.

Before you can figure out what he means, Joey licks his index finger and then takes both your cock and balls into his mouth and resumes his intense sucking. With the hand not holding you against the wall he starts drawing tiny circles around your asshole using its index finger. After a few seconds of massaging like this he plunges the thick digit in and before long he's slow finger fucking you, rubbing your prostate with every stroke.

The clever bastard. The clever but incredibly dumb bastard! You can't handle this for long and after about a minute of this assult you let out a low grunt and start shooting down the mafioso's throat. He doesn't stop sucking for a second. Holy shit this guy is dedicated to his job...whatever that is.

When Joey's satisfied you're finished he pulls his mouth off of your junk and his finger out of your ass. The hand holding you against the wall stays there, because of course it does. He unlocks the back door and with the same force that brought you out here grabs you by the shirt and pulls you into the building, your pants still around your ankles.

"I took care of him, boss!" he hollars down the hallway dragging you along like some kind of man-sized ragdoll.

"He's good ain't he?" One of those same smirking guys from earlier whispers to you.

How often does this happen.

The don look up from his calzone dinner and his self-satisfied smile gradually droops into a frown.

"Joey?" he says with equal parts gentleness and barely restrained frustration.

"Yeah boss?" 

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT BY TAKE CARE OF HIM!" he roars while slamming a fist into the table. So when he does it it's okay.

"Sorry boss," the goon responds sheepishly. 

"Every fuckin' time I want a guy murdalized..." The tired mafia don says under his breath before completely downing his glass of wine.

"He did real good though, I think we should hire him," Joey adds.

"I can't be hiring guys you suck off, Joey. What would the other families think?"

A goon with a crew cut speaks up. "After that turf war with Luigi T. Nilgiri, we need all the help we can get."

Don Frappeccino lets out the biggest sigh of the night. "That is true, Lungo. That is true. The bastard took some of our finest men. Told em tea was healthier. Bah..."

He stares you dead in the eyes. "Welcome to the family, ya lucky fuck."

You let out a little cough. "D-do I have any say in this?"

"Not even a little."