Please note this piece is fantasy not reality and should not be seen to condone any of the behaviour described. All characters are aged 18 or over. Feedback welcomed, please let me know if you have ideas for future chapters.
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It had been a long afternoon session at the gym. My body was aching from the exertion as I stepped out of the shower having done a solid couple of hours training.
Still, as I admired myself in the mirror, it took hard work and dedication to maintain a body like mine. Standing at a touch over 6 foot, with tanned dark skin courtesy of my Italian ancestry, my body was buff and chiselled from all the hours spent at the gym.
As nobody else was around I couldn't help wrapping my hands around the sizeable dick which swung between my powerful thighs. I soon felt it starting to harden in response and despite my excitement at the evening ahead I knew that I had to save myself.
My fortunes were changing. All the training to get onto the school football team had paid off by helping me join the gang which now ran the whole joint. Literally nothing moved without our say so.
It was like my life had changed overnight. Before I'd had to scrap for everything. My parents were never in a job for long and when they were it didn't pay very well.
Most of the time I had to wear hand me downs. One of my first memories was when I was at junior school and this kid got in my face, telling me that I was a hobo. He wasn't saying that after I'd punched him and knocked out a couple of his teeth.
After that guys got the message not to mess with me, but I still got into fights. I was just so angry with the world and that was the only way that I knew to take out my frustrations. Unfortunately, I picked a few fights with older lads which left me on the receiving end of some horrendous beatings.
I still remember coming home one day with¬¬ two black eyes and a broken rib from the battering I had received courtesy of a group of older boys who had decided I needed bringing down a peg or two.
But in a way that was all good training for me. It taught me that to survive in this world you had to be tough, or you'd get eaten alive. But it also taught me you had to be smart and pick your battles, you couldn't win every time.
So I worked hard, bulked up, trained every day and finally I made the football team. The captain was a guy named Troy. He was Italian, just like me, but he was an absolute beast of a man. He only had a few inches on me, but he was built like a fucking tank with muscles bulging everywhere.
Pretty much everyone on the team was scared of him, but to be fair he whipped us into shape. Our school had never won anything, but he took us to our first state championship. He was just so focussed, so determined, I'd never seen anything like it and it spurred me on to improve myself to try and match him.
And then a few months ago Troy started to change. This guy on the team, Marc, challenged him, punked him to his face. What a fool. There was only going to be one winner in that fight. Troy stole his girlfriend, fucked her so hard that she could barely walk straight and then bragged about it to the rest of the team. After that the guy was a laughing stock, a joke, a social leper.
As soon as that happened it was like Troy had realised what his assets were and started to use them. He pulled a group of the toughest guys on the team together and told us we were taking over the school. And he wasn't wrong. Within a few weeks we ran the place.
To start with we were just running an extortion racket, forcing everyone to pay up or risk ending up in hospital. But then we quickly moved onto shifting drugs and instead of having to beat money out of people, they were begging to give us it. Then before long we were pimping out the fit cheerleaders to sad middle aged men desperate for some hot, young pussy.
Troy ran the show. He was the man. The guys wanted to be him and the chicks wanted to fuck him. The chick he stole, Dixie, was the head cheerleader and as hot as hell. She had flowing blonde hair, a cute, ditzy face, a big rack and long, supple legs. Every guy wanted her but she only had eyes for Troy it seemed, like he'd injected her with some drug that made her powerless to resist him.
After what he did to Marc nobody was stupid enough to challenge him and it became clear that you jumped on the train, or it ran you over. I never really liked Troy from the start. He was a muscle headed douche bag. Sure he was tough as nails and ruthless but that's all he had going for him. He was just going to turn out like all the other cocky wannabe gangsters: wasting the best years of his life rotting in jail.
I didn't want my life to turn out like that. So I made sure that as well as training hard I studied hard too so that I'd be able to make something of myself, maybe even go to college. While most of the other guys spent their time training in the gym, drinking in bars and fucking around I made sure I kept myself focussed.
At least that was my plan. Problem was that over time I realised that I could earn a hell of a lot more dough, a hell of a lot easier and a hell of a lot quicker by being in Troy's gang. I told myself that I was just doing it to earn enough money to get by, that I had no choice to do it if I wanted my family to be able to afford to have food on the table every night and pay for gas.
But being in the gang was like a drug. At first it felt like I was in complete control. I got involved when I wanted to and kept to the low level, easy stuff, just earning enough to get by on. But if I wanted to stay tight with the gang I had to show my loyalty and earn my chits with the guys.
That meant making sure that I went out with the rest of the guys regularly to maintain my position in the pecking order. And then I saw how easy it was to earn a few more bucks, so I got more involved in organising our operations, running the drugs and making sure everything ran smoothly.
Suddenly I had money to spend for the first time in my life on things that I actually wanted, rather than merely needed. So I bought my first car, yeah it was second hand and pretty clapped out, but it was all mine. I sorted out a new wardrobe, buying the latest designer gear so that I looked great all the time.
But then to maintain this new lifestyle I had to get more and more deeply involved in the gang. I needed to keep spending and the gang was the only way I was ever going to earn the kind of bucks that were needed.
And before long I realised I was good at this shit. Yeah I was strong physically, that was a given. I could handle myself in a brawl and could mete out punishment beatings to anyone who got on the wrong side of us.
But more importantly I was strong mentally. I was clever. I could figure out a way round problems, think through how to do things most efficiently and handle the hot-headed knuckle heads around me.
More than that I realised that I loved the adrenaline rush, that feeling of being out of control, of surfing on the edge of a wave not knowing if it was about to send you soaring to new heights or plunge you down to new depths.
It all seemed to come naturally to me and over time I worked my way into the inner sanctum, one of Troy's top guys, the ones he entrusted with the most responsibility and naturally rewarded the most handsomely.
One other benefit was the frequent supply of hot pussy. Hell, what can I say? I'm an 18 year-old red-blooded male. Once I had got a taste for all the sweet cunt on offer it was impossible to let go. I went from being so nervous around chicks that I could barely utter a word to having the confident swagger of a guy who knew that he could have his way with practically any woman he wanted.
There was nothing better than strutting into a club with the rest of the guys and picking out a hot girl that I could take home and fuck all night long. The more arrogant I got the more the chicks seemed to dig me and want to be with me.
Over time it made me realise what made Troy so successful. What mattered was appearance, rather than reality. He gave off the impression of being dangerous, hard and supremely confident so most people believed it, whether it was true or not. And over time I was doing the same. It was amazing to see the change. Both men and women who might have shunned me or ignored me before now hung on my ever word. And when I spoke people listened.
It felt great to have that sense of control over my life for the first time, like I was in charge of my own destiny. And I realised I could play this game better than anyone. I had been wrong to think it was just a sucker's game. It was for most of the muscle headed jocks who got involved with gangs and had brains the size of peas but I knew that wasn't me.
The only guy I thought that could match me intellectually was Troy's brother, Scott. I didn't know him too well as he liked to stay in the background. He was quiet but he was a complete genius. What he didn't know about computers and all that I.T. stuff, wasn't worth knowing.
But while Scott was bright, I knew that he wasn't really cut out for running a gang. He'd only got dragged into it because his brother wasn't stupid enough to think he could run things all by himself. Still, I knew that I was the complete package. I had the right mixture of Troy's physique and Scott's brains to make a killing in this business, way more than I could anywhere else.