A kinky story written by Ropingtop | Chapter 1

Click here to see all published chapters. Illustration by Theo Blaze.

Joey Schiavo was the first member of his family to get to college.   He didn’t get there on his grades, but on an athletic scholarship.  Teased as a kid for being so short (he was 5’5″), he found solace in the gym, and found success at gymnastics.  He had been the overall champion for his high school, and then his district.  Universities with gymnastics programs  recruited him heavily.  It was not hard to see why: he had the dark hair and features of his blue collar Italian American parents,  a big smile that he used often, and a body that one commentator had written  “had clearly been approved by God.”    Perhaps. At his height, with a body fat percentage in the single figures, an upper body that was impossible to fit into a  ready to wear dress shirt,  and a chest that was big, and stood out, it was hard to argue.

Joey was a good gymnast, not a great one.  He knew that, and so did the coaches.  Making an Olympic team had never been in the cards, but in terms of the money and prestige associated with a good team, a championship team, he had his pick of schools.  He finally settled on one that was a few states away, so that it was far enough away from home to justify NOT coming home if he didn’t want to,  but close enough if he did.  

When he got to the university,  the director of academics had a talk with him  

“Joey, you have to understand that college is tough.  It will be hard to balance practice, and competing with school, but you MUST maintain a C average in order to keep  your scholarship.  I don’t care if you win every gold medal in every competition you enter. If the grades aren’t there, the University will revoke your scholarship.  I hope you understand that. 

He stared at the director.  “Yes Mr. Williamson, I do.  I promise you, I’ll do my best.  My family is counting on it.”

Joey kept  his word through freshman and sophomore years.  It could not be said that he was an academic genius by any means, but he maintained a steady B/B- average in his classes.  At the gym, he specialized in strength events like the rings, and the pommel horse.  Again, while he never managed to crack the top 3 at competitions, he was always in the top 10, for at least some of the events.  Even after he injured himself trying to do a vault that was more difficult than he was capable of doing, he fought back and was doing what he could for his team. 

All of this changed in his junior year.  Joey began to get jealous of the team “stars.”  It seemed that they spent way more time in bars than in class, and he knew of at least three who were having their papers written for them by freelancers.  Joey’s scholarship didn’t provide enough money to pay for papers, so he had to spend hours doing them the old fashioned way:  researching and writing them himself.  He was not a fast typist, and typing the papers took away  “play time” too.  All of these guys seemed to have their choice of any women on campus they wanted, and one guy seemed to have an older woman who paid all his bills, arranged for his laundry, etc.  Joey was engaging enough to become a part of these circles, except he didn’t have the background support to hide the fact that he was slacking off his work.   His grades began to drop.  His overall average for his first semester of junior year, was a  C-.  That’s why he was sitting in front of Mr.  Williamson that afternoon.

“Joey, what happened? You seemed to be fine, but now… A drop of a full letter grade is serious stuff.  Is there something wrong son?”

“Uh, no Sir.  I just think I took classes that may be too difficult.”

“Hmmm.”  Williamson looked at his schedule.  “You ought to be able to handle these, and most of them ARE required classes. ”  He looked again.  “Joey, am I wrong, or did your family speak Italian at home?”

“They did Sir.  I did too.”

“I see.  That’s why I don’t understand these grades.  Joey, you got a C in Italian!  Something’s not right here.”

“I understand your point Mr. Williamson.  I’ll do better.”

“You’ll have to Joey, because now I have to put you on probation. We’ll have a meeting every month. Your professors will report to me, and if your grades don’t go up, well.. I’m afraid the University will have to revoke your scholarship.”

The discussion with Mr. Williamson did absolutely nothing to change Joey’s habits.   His grades in the first few weeks of his second junior semester hovered around a D, and he found himself back in the director’s office.”

“Joey, I’m afraid this is not good news.   Not only is there no improvement, there’s a decline.  ”  He paused.  “it’s a shame, because the university wants students like you, but we’re going to have to revoke your scholarship.  You’re paid up for the semester, so there’s nothing to be done about that; however, at the end of this year, you’ll have to come up with the funding yourself if you wish to stay.” 

Joey’s mouth dropped.  “WHAT?  I’m being expelled when other guys are cheating regularly?”

“Joey, I’m afraid that’s out of my scope.  You’ll have to report that to the Dean, and hope that she takes action.  “

“So I’m expelled?”

“Joey, you’re not expelled.  You just have to find another way to pay for senior year.”

“FUCK!”  Joey said it so loud it shocked both Mr.  Williamson and himself.  “Where am I gonna get that money?  I can’t ask my parents?”

“There’s part time work Joey, and you could always consider taking some time off, working and coming back. ”  Another pause.  “I’m afraid that you won’t be able to compete any more either.  Everything was tied to your academic average, and now, well…”

Joey left the office in tears.  He didn’t know what to do.  That night, when he was at dinner with other members of the team, and began carb loading instead of   eating protein, his best friend Adam asked him what was wrong.

“Ah, I lost my scholarship today.  I’m gonna have to leave the university at the end of the semester.  I won’t be with you guys for senior year.”

“Joey, that really SUCKS.  What happened?”  Joey was embarrassed, but he told Adam everything.  “God, that’s a shitty situation Joey.  I’m sorry.  I wish I had the money.  I’d lend it to you.” 

“Thanks man.  Maybe I’m not cut out for college.”

Adam took a deep breath.  “I have an idea.  I’m ashamed to suggest it, but it’s an idea.  Treat it as that Joey, nothing else.”

“Ok, I’m listening.”

“I have a friend, Seth.  He’s not a jock, he’s more of a nerd, but he got into a similar situation.  Lost a scholarship, was going to go out the door.  He found, well, there’s no  other way to describe who he found, but this way:  he found a sugar daddy.”

“A sugar daddy? You mean some guy who pays his way while he puts out?”

“Yeah, that’s it.  “

“HELL NO.  I’m not gonna do that.”

“Ok, Joey, I’m sorry for mentioning it.  I shouldn’t have.  I just thought you should have the option.”  Adam picked up his tray.  “I gotta get back to the books.  History exam in two days.  Joey, let me know if I can do anything to help you.”  Joey gulped.

“Hey, Adam, thanks.  Can you give me Seth’s contact info in case..”  Adam didn’t say a word, just handed the information to Joey on a slip of paper.

Two weeks later, Joey was on his way to a “club” as Seth called it, with Seth’s “friend,”  Kevin Macam.  Kevin was an attorney at one of the big law firms downtown.  He wasn’t particularly good looking or athletic, but he was renowned as one of the best defense lawyers in the city.  He regularly charged up to 950.00 an hour for his time, and he was so busy he was turning down clients.  

Seth had spoken to Joey.  “You know, there’s a guy who Kevin knows.  About 55.  Sort of a silver fox – think of a low rent Anderson Cooper .  He was a gymnast here a long time ago.  Made a lot of money in real estate, and sort of dabbles now.  Gay as a goose, and looking, always looking.  He likes dark haired boys.  Can I send him your photo?’

Joey was not school smart, but he WAS street smart.  He gave Seth photos of himself in his gymnastics uniform, one shirtless and shaved, and another dressed up for a  formal function.  The guy called Seth back about an hour after he saw the photos. 

“Joey, it’s Seth.  Kevin’s friend wants to meet you.  His name is Bill Scott.  You should probably call him Mr. Scott when you meet him.” 

Joey began to sweat.  He couldn’t believe that he was going to do this, but he dressed according to what Seth told him:  tight polo shirt, khakis, got a haircut, shaved.  He looked at himself in the mirror before he left and smiled weakly.  “Yeah, I’d date me,”  and left. 

Joey had no idea what to expect at the club.  It was filled with older men, some very handsome, some not, all dressed in suits and ties, or jackets, and younger men who looked like Joey, or Seth, or any other college student.  Joey’s “date” was already there.  He shook hands with Kevin and smiled at Seth.  “We’re gonna leave you with Bill, Joey”  Mr. Macam told him.  “And if you need a lift home, we’ll take you.”

“Hi Mr. Scott.  I’m Joey.”  He held out his hand.  Scott took it and gave him a firm handshake.  “Nice to meet you Joey.  Bill Scott here.  Why don’t you have a seat? Let’s talk.  Are you hungry?  “

“No Sir.  I’m fine.”  Scott smiled.  “Joey, I was a gymnast once.  EVERY gymnast is always hungry.”  He called over a waiter.  “Order whatever you like Joey, it’s on me.  If you can break training, have a drink too. Or you can have a sip of mine.”

“I’m.. I’m not in training now Mr. Scott.  I don’t know how much Seth told you but…”

“OH YES.  I’m SORRY.  I forgot about that. It’s one of the medications I take.  Well, let’s look at the bright side.  It means you CAN drink.   Carlos..” he called over the waiter.  “Can you bring Joey a lemon drop or something like that?”

“Mr Scott, I really appreciate your seeing me.”

“Hey, it’s nothing Joey.  So, tell me about yourself.”

Joey was reluctant at first, but the lemon drop loosened his tongue, and he told Scott as much as he could remember about his family life, his school life, everything.  Before he knew it, it was 11pm. 

Scott smiled.  “Joey, this place has to close down in a little bit. Local rules.  I think it’s midnight, so we’re gonna have to go.  Let me be blunt, and get to the point:  I like you.  I think I could help you.  But what happens next is up to you.  ” He pulled out a business card and wrote down some information.  “I know Seth told you about his relationship with Kevin.  If you’re interested in one with me, I’m interested in one with you.  The one thing you have to understand Joey, is that unlike Kevin, I’m a top man.”

“Top man?   What does that mean Sir?” Scott smiled.  “you’re very new to this, aren’t  you?  Well, in very simple terms,  think of a man and a woman having sex.  The man is usually the top, and the woman is usually the bottom.”

“You mean, you’re interested in treating me like a woman, Sir?  I don’t do drag.” 

“No Joey, not that at all.  Here.  Let me have that card back.”  He wrote down the name of a short film on the card.  “you can watch this on youtube.  Take a look.  That may explain things better than I can.  Let me know, ok, young man?”  He got up and shook Joey’s hand.  “Whatever happens, it was a pleasure to meet you.  And don’t forget that you’re a VERY handsome young man.” 

Three days later, Joey had watched the film.  He had gotten sick the first time he watched it.  Then he saw it again, and it wasn’t too bad.  The third time he watched it, he found himself getting into it, and didn’t even realize he was playing with himself, until he came. 

He called the next day.  “Mr. Scott.  Hi, this is Joey.  Yes, sir, I’m fine.  I was wondering if I could come over.  ”  Scott did some talking  “yes, sir. I think I could spare the weekend.  I’ll pack up a bag.  Yes sir, I understand the difference between tops and bottoms now.  ”  

Joey had never forgotten the prayers his grandmother had taught him and that night as he prayed, he added  “please Jesus.  I don’t know if I’m sinning and if I am, I apologize.  But you didn’t send me any other way and Nana taught me we have to learn to take care of ourselves.  Forgive me if I sin.  Help me whether I do or not.” 

After his 4pm class on Friday afternoon, he grabbed his bag, and called the number Scott had given him.  A car picked him up and, fifteen minutes later, A smiling Bill Scott opened the door to a very frightened looking Joey.

“Hi Mr Scott.   Can I come in, please?” 

To be continued ….

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Ropingtop is a 63 year old retired attorney, and native New Yorker, who lives with his partner of 37 years in New York City. He IS a "roping top" who started writing stories like this one about two years ago.

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