The Greek Pimp Ch. 03

"I do?"

The Greek just looked at Thane and then stood up from the table. He signaled for his winnings—which were impressive—to be taken away for him, and a floor manager stepped up to the table and respectfully brushed the winnings up. He didn't ask the Greek's name. That was enough for Thane to know how important he was.

A bodyguard followed them as the Greek moved off toward the back of the casino room.

"I think the men's room is up by the entrance," Thane said.

"Not the one we're going to."

The bodyguard stood guard on the door while the Greek pushed Thane into a stall and onto the back of a toilet tank. He had Thane's trousers unbuckled and those and his briefs off his legs in short order and, crouching, straddled the toilet bowl with his own thighs, pressing his crotch into Thane's.

So commanding and strong was he that Thane made no move to resist. And although he couldn't see it, Thane could tell that the man's cock was massively thick.

Placing his forehead against Thane's and holding Thane's gaze with his piercing eyes, the Greek held Thane's chin firm with one hand—his left—and Thane felt a thick finger of the right hand—one topped by a huge signet ring, penetrating his ass.

Thane shuddered and whimpered, his eyes held by the Greek's, while the Greek finger fucked him and worried his rim with the signet ring.

"You aren't playacting with me? Men fuck you? More than just that Jap's feeble attempts."

"Yes, men fuck me," Thane answered in a hoarse voice.

"I am going to fuck you. Here. Now."

"Yes." The man was overpowering. He got whatever he wanted. Because of the inadequate Japanese businessman, this was what Thane wanted too. The Greek seemed to know just how Thane wanted it. By surprise, little warning, hard, fast, brutal.

When the ring was replaced with an unseen, but very, very thick, hard cock, Thane gasped, his eyes watered, and, fully saddled, he hooked his knees on the Greek's hips. The Greek wasn't wearing a condom and gave Thane a full load—taking his time but not sparing the thrusts.

"Yes, I think I will offer you a ride to Bangkok," the Greek muttered in a low voice when he'd ejaculated. "If you will pay for your passage with more of this—anything I want—and can leave tonight."

* * * *

The luncheon on the fantail had been so civilized that Thane was nervously twitching, wondering how Eracules could be so calm and polite to him as roughly as he had fucked him in the night and then again in the morning. Of course, they weren't alone. The bodyguard was there, for one. Omar. The Greek had introduced him as Omar. He looked Turkish to Thane. And monstrously big. It was disconcerting to think that he might be Turkish—and Eracules undoubtedly was a Greek. The two men shouldn't get along. Greeks and Turks didn't mix. But Omar obviously was prepared to do whatever the Greek wanted. Thane wondered whether it was money, personal loyalty, or sex that bound Omar to the Greek—or a combination of the three—and he shuddered at the thought of it being primarily sex, as he viewed the bulge at the bodyguard's crotch. The man was in a Speedo. The bodyguard, the Greek, and Thane all were in Speedos, a swim off the boat having been dictated by Eracules before lunch.

Thane was able to think all these thoughts, his nerves sending him fleeing from one thought to another, unrelated one, because Thane wasn't the only guest. There also was a tall, thin Chinese man, who spoke broken English but who was conversing with the Greek in some dialect of Chinese, and whose gaze frequently and disconcertingly fell on Thane. The man was middle aged, not bad looking—for a Chinese, Thane thought—was elegantly dressed in a silk robe such as Thane could imagine a wealthy Mandarin of years gone by would wear. He moved with graceful elegant sweeps of his arms as well.

Since Thane didn't speak any dialect of Chinese, he was left pretty much to his own devices. And part of his devices were to look at the other bodyguard. Standing to port, while Omar stood to starboard, both intently watching the luncheon table, the Chinese bodyguard was a bruiser to match Omar. Quite the thug, Thane thought. Thane hadn't seen him before and he was Chinese and standing behind the Chinese gentlemen, so Thane assumed they were a pair.

Thane rather liked the bulky thug type.

He found himself wondering whether he'd prefer being fucked by Omar or the Chinese bodyguard, and hadn't made up his mind by the time Samit and another Thai male servant were out and clearing away the luncheon table.

The Chinese man and Eracules had seemed to be haggling over something at the end of the meal, but right before the Greek clapped his hands and the Thai servants were clearing away the table, they had both stopped. And they were both smiling, so whatever they had been discussing—transportation of drugs, Thane was willing to bet—had ended with both satisfied.

Then, to Thane's surprise, The Chinese man was settling in a chair facing the chair the Greek was in and the Greek was tugging on his Speedo and telling Thane to strip his off.

The Greek fucked Thane sitting in his chair and Thane in his lap, facing away from Eracules. The Greek held Thane at his waist on either side and guided the rhythm of the fuck as Thane raised and lowered his channel on the thick cock by leveraging off the soles of his feet on the teak deck. Thane was embarrassed, of course, but he knew he had promised to do whatever in the way of sex that the Greek wanted. And, since he was facing the Chinese man who was watching the fucking closely with hooded eyes and a little smile on his face, Thane realized this was some sort of show for the Chinese.

He wasn't that worried until the Greek spoke to Omar, telling him to strip and to join them. Thane started to whimper and hyperventilate as Omar approached and Eracules reached around and lifted and spread Thane's thighs, rolling his pelvis up in the same motion.

This was last night again, but this time it was Thane, not the Thai cabin boy, sandwiched between two big-dicked bruisers. Thane writhed and cried out—first in pain, and eventually, as he accommodated the two dicks—being full of wonder that he could do that—in ecstasy. He was taking two cocks. Again, horrid and bliss at the same time. His spirit soared across the sky at the wonder of being able to manage them and at the deeply sensual feeling of two cocks, these two working in a rhythm of thrust and counterthrust, plowing inside him and the two men moaning in lust and arousal as much as he was.

He ... had ... no idea how extraordinary this could feel. He cried out and ejaculated onto the hard abdominal plate of the bodyguard as the two men fired, one after the other, and caused him to gasp and moan just as Samit had done the night before at the feel of the double load of cum bathing his channel.

Omar pulled out of him, backed up, picked his Speedo off the deck, pulled it back up his legs, and stood there, at attention, just as if nothing had happened.

Thane remained collapsed against the Greek's chest, with the Greek's arms around him, gliding over Thane's chest and dick and balls. His right hand cupped and lifted Thane's cock. The underside of the signet ring was rubbing against the underside of the root of Thane's cock, and Thane was hardening again—and breathing a little hard.

The Chinese man said something, and Thane lifted his head and looked at him through dreamy eyes. The Greek answered back. Thane, in the throes of the exhilarating sex, had forgotten that the Chinese man and his bodyguard had been sitting there, watching. It occurred to Thane that Eracules was purposely putting his privates on display for the Chinese man.

"He says he thoroughly enjoyed it and that he's willing to buy," the Greek told Thane in English.

"Enjoyed? Buy? Buy what?"

"Buy you."

Thane laughed.

"I'm serious," the Greek said. "Perhaps it would have been different if I had sensed this morning that we could work together—that you weren't so wrapped up in tennis and getting to Bangkok."

Thane gasped and started to try to struggle, but the Greek held him fast. Omar took a step toward them, but the Greek barked something and Omar backed away. Obviously he had told the bodyguard that he could control Thane. And obviously he could, as Thane gave up the struggle.

"I don't understand. You can't sell me."

"The Chinese gentleman certainly thinks I can. And I can if I do."

"No, you can't."

"Did you see the name on my yacht when you came aboard?"

"Yeah, but it was Greek to me."

"It's Greek to everyone. This yacht is named The Apyko—which means 'procurer' in Greek. Pimp. I'm a high-stakes procurer. I sail around the world, picking up abandoned and luscious men like you, and selling them to the highest bidder. Hsieng here was the only bidder, but he bid high, and I'm happy with a quick turnover."

"You can't," Thane said, with a moan. "I'm going to a tennis tournament in Bangkok."

"As it turns out, you're not. I'm dropping you and this gentleman off at his home. Which is in Shanghai. Which is north of Macau, not south, the direction of Bangkok."

"No, we can't be ..." Thane started to say, but then he took the time to look at the sun's angle. The sun was off the port side—west. They indeed were sailing north, not south.

"No, you can't," Thane exclaimed. But this time it was no more than a whisper. Because he realized that, indeed, the Greek could. No one even knew where Thane was headed. When the tournament started in Bangkok, they would just scratch his name and some lucky qualifier would be given his spot.

The Chinese gentleman was standing, and pulling his robe over his head. He was naked under the robe. He was tall and thin and sinewy, and his dick was rather thin, to match. But it was extraordinarily long. The Chinese bodyguard, though, who was also pulling his robe over his head and also was naked underneath, was as thick as Thane would want if only one man was fucking him.

They fucked first on the bed in Hsieng's cabin, Hsieng wanted the experience of being double fucked. As horrified as Thane was with the whole scenario, he enjoyed the fuck, being more turned on by the Chinese bodyguard hovering over Hsieng and between his thighs as Thane lay underneath him than he was with Hsieng—which made it more palatable that both men were fucking him. If it had only been Hsieng ...

By the time the Chinese bodyguard was standing in the middle of the cabin, holding Thane in front of his heavily muscled body with his beefy hands gripped under Thane's thighs and parting them and Thane arching his torso and gripping his fists behind the bodyguard's neck, Thane was lost to the fuck. And he was no less lost to the fuck when Hsieng approached him from the front and the bodyguard tilted up Thane's pelvis, and Hsieng started to work his cock inside Thane's channel on top of the bodyguards.

Thane knew he'd have to figure out a way to escape this situation—and he had every confidence that he would find a way. But not right now. Right now he was acknowledging that he was lost to the glories—the horrid bliss ... again—of the double fuck.