Enslaving the Renegade Chapter Six: Futile Protest by Evan Andrews, 2020
This is a fan fiction. The story is based on one that appeared in a 1984 issue of the magazine First Hand. That story was only 3 pages long, but I enjoyed it so that I decided to expand it and recast it in the universe of Renegade, starring Lorenzo Lamas. The story should in no way be considered a true representation of the true sexuality of either the actor or his character. And if you figure out who I was thinking of when I wrote certain characters back in the 90's, the same applies to them too.
The story depicts males in sexual situations with other males. If that offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you are please stop reading now. Thank you.
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Reno stood naked in the window of his bedroom and rubbed the beard that he had grown at Torres' suggestion. The warm afternoon sun played over his body as he watched the handsome, dark-haired fuck-boy, Dominic, follow his new master out to the waiting car. His master, Wade, a bearded Angelino hunk, had come after a boy specially trained by Reno, and Reno liked to think he had gotten his client just the little stud-muffin he was hungering for. The two stopped for a moment beside the car, talking, and then Dominic looked up at Reno's window. The boy waved to his trainer and then crawled into the car. Wade watched his boy's ass as he climbed in, then turned to the window and pointed an index finger towards Reno in recognition. Then he climbed into the limo after Dominic.
The gate opened as the car approached, and yet another one of the ranch's fuckboys went out into the world. Went out the same way another one had come in earlier that afternoon. Or so Reno supposed. The muscular, young, Black man he had seen earlier in the day had come in response to a feeler Torres had put out for a "personal trainer." Torres had wanted some firm, well-muscled stud, but unless Reno was mistaken, Torres had other plans for the handsome, young brother than using him as a personal trainer—more likely he'd be personally training him as a cock-sucking sex-slave.
Reno himself was breaking in boys regularly now, almost as often as Malik was, and it pleased him when a buyer remarked on the willingness and passion of a boy he had worked on. "Trained by Vince" was becoming a catch phrase for quality fuckboys.
He turned away from the window and stared at the latest of his trainees where he lay sprawled across the bed, exhausted from the fucking he had recently received. The boy's ass twitched from time to time, and a smile played across the face that was half turned towards Reno.
Reno smiled down at the boy and approached the bed. As he did, his shadow fell across the light.
Without opening his eyes, the sexy, young redhead asked, "Did I do it right?"
Reno sat down along side him and caressed the round, white ass, massaging his own cum into the boy's muscles.
"Pretty good, Seth," he said, snaking a cum-slick finger into the boy's asshole, "We'll work some more on your technique tomorrow and see if you can keep me hanging on any longer then."
Seth writhed on the finger and moaned as Reno hit his prostate.
Reno pulled his finger out and laughed.
"You are fucking insatiable," he said proudly.
"Yes sir," Seth replied and ground his cock into the mattress for good measure.
Reno stood up and walked back over to the window. He stretched and glanced up off into the hills from which he had first seen the ranch. Something in the hills glinted once in the sunlight, then a second time. Reno frowned and went to get his binoculars from the bureau.
By the time he had trained them on the spot in the hills, all he could see was a cloud of dust where something had been. Whatever it was, it was gone now.
Seth sighed again and began to hump the mattress while Reno went to the bureau to put away the binoculars. There he pulled out a pair of oversized silk boxers and tossed them at the boy, hitting him in the small of the back.
"Put those on, you sex fiend, and go show Malik that trick with your throat muscles since you're so horny," he said, "You've got too much fucking energy for me today."
Seth pulled on the shorts, his young cock hanging out through the leg hole, and left Reno staring up at the hills again with a worried look on his face.
Later that afternoon, Reno was dressing for dinner with Torres and Malik. He had his trousers on when he looked out the window and noticed the gate closing. A state police cruiser was just pulling up to the house and parking where he could not see it. Reno went over to his bedroom door and opened it just a crack.
The bell rang, and there was a wait as Malik came to answer the door. Reno heard the front door open and then Malik was talking with whoever had gotten out of the cruiser. The acoustics of the hall distorted the voices, and the only words that Reno could catch were "Officer" and "Study." Quietly, he stepped out onto the mezzanine in time to see the back of a navy-blue uniform as it disappeared around a corner towards the back of the house.
Reno did not trust the presence of the cops at the ranch. He couldn't think of a single time that a police officer had set foot on the property while he had been there, and that suited him just fine. Wanted posters with his face on them were still circulating in some places after all, and the charges against him had never been dropped. So far as he was concerned, police meant trouble, and the sudden arrival of this one had him worried.
Reno raced downstairs to the front door. Torres and Malik could handle one cop, which was all that he had seen, but what if there were more outside? He glanced through the spyhole and saw nothing but the cruiser sitting in front of the ranch. He opened the door and nonchalantly walked out to the car. It was empty, so unless there were reinforcements in the hills, they would be all right this time. Reno looked up into the hills again and remembered the glint he had seen there in the afternoon.
Who was to say that there weren't reinforcements?
He backed into the ranch and bolted the door.
He then rushed through the house to Torres' study. The door was shut, so he knelt down and listened at the keyhole. Inside muffled voices played back and forth, then suddenly there was a distinct yell.
"No!" someone cried, and there were sounds of a struggle inside the study.
Reno took a few steps back and rammed the door with his shoulder. The door burst open, and he fell to the floor in a heap. As he rolled over and made for his feet, something hit him in the face, and he went back down. He grabbed at the object and found himself holding a pair of dirty blue jeans. Beyond them their owner, a dark, young man with black hair, was lying on the floor. Two uniformed policemen were busy stripping him the rest of the way naked. One cop was big and Black, with a thick mustache and thicker muscles. He was peeling the boxer shorts off the boy while his partner, a lanky White man with short black hair and a goatee, tore the T-shirt off the kid's smooth, young torso.
Reno watched as the two men pulled the naked boy to his feet and then drug his struggling body across the floor to bend him face down over Torres' desk. The Black cop tore open his pants and began to stroke the huge slab of cock that he pulled out. Malik appeared from nowhere and squeezed a big dollop of lube to the cop's hand. The cop rubbed the lube all over his rigid stud meat and then began to ram his slick fingers into the tight young ass spread in front of him. The boy screamed, but at his head the White cop tore open his own pants and presented a hard shaft of throbbing, pink meat to the boy's open mouth.
"Shut the fuck up and take this cock," he ordered.
He forced the boy's jaw open and began to ram his dick into the boy's mouth. The boy gagged on the thick man meat, and Malik stepped back up to the desk. He calmly grabbed the boy's flailing hands and cuffed them behind his back. Then the Black cop spread the boy's ass cheeks, took careful aim and plunged his own cock into the boy's thrashing ass. A muffled scream escaped the boy's stuffed mouth, and he struggled helplessly between the two big men spearing him with their sex tools.
Reno got to his feet and turned to find Torres, hard dick in hand, watching the hot action.
Torres was standing naked in the opening of the video nook. Behind him on the couch lay the prone figure of the hunky, young Black man. His dark thighs were spread wide, and his body and face glistening with sweat and cum. His hands rested on his stomach, playing with the puddle of his cum that lay there, pearl white against the dark brown skin. His smiling, clean-shaven, cum-splattered face was surrounded by a mane of locked hair, and his eyes were closed. Reno's old friend, Torres' biggest dildo, stuck out of the young man's asshole, shiny with lube and his ass juices.
"Boss," Reno said, "What the hell is going on in here?"
Torres glanced back at the Black muscle stud who was now flexing his sphincter around the huge dildo lodged deep in his ass.
"I know you remember this," Torres said, "I've decided to keep Anthony on, you see, and I was just explaining his new duties and his place in the household to him. He came about a position as a personal trainer, but he'll be getting the training instead of giving it—at least for now."
"No," Reno said, "Not that. I mean that there."
He pointed at the young man being raped on the desk.
"Ah," said Torres, "That studpuppy is Jimmy. Creed and Brady found him hitch-hiking cross country and thought that he might be a good addition to the stable here."
He pointed at the Black officer as Creed, and the White as Brady, but Reno was too angry to care.
"Great, we're using cops to bring in boys now?" he asked, "Doesn't that strike you as dangerous?"
"Not so long as they're paid off and happy. Creed and Brady like to take their payment in hot, young ass," Torres smiled, "And since they brought me this piece of ass, I decided to go ahead and let them have first shot at it."
The two cop studs drug Jimmy off the desk and threw him on his back on the floor. Each grabbed a foot and spread his legs apart. Then they took turns in his ass, deep fucking him, watching his face as they plunged in, laughing at the look on it as tears of shame ran down the fine, dark features.
"Wonderful, so we're going to have a fuck-boy here whose first mansex is getting his ass raped," Reno said, "That's going to scar him emotionally and make him a harder item to move."
Torres gave Reno a withering glance.
"So who's the expert in producing sex slaves now?" he said with a sneer, "You never even had a man before me, so you just do what I tell you and leave the worrying to someone who knows what he's fucking doing."
"You can break in the boys good," said Reno, "but when you do something reckless like this, I will worry because this is taking chances, too many chances. Someone's going to notice when Anthony there doesn't come home from his job interview, and someone may miss the boy. He was hitchhiking somewhere after all. You're putting us all at risk here."
Torres turned on Reno.
"Who the hell, just who in fucking hell do you think you're talking too?!" he demanded.
He clenched his fists and took a step towards Reno.
"Have you forgotten who you are? Forgotten what you are?" he demanded.
Reno took a step backwards and fell into a defensive stance, the same way he had the first day he had come to the ranch.
"Whoa, boss, take it easy," he said.
"Easy? Boss?" Torres spat, "You are my fuck-boy, no matter how many asses I've had you pound here, so you say "Sir" and "Master" when you talk to me. You do what I say when I say it with whoever I say, and you do not question me—ever. You got that?"
Reno was so focused on the irate Latin stud that he never noticed he was backing towards Malik. The Black butler raised a padded sap and brought it down on the back of Reno's head. Reno's sight blurred, and he fell to his knees.
Hands roughly turned him over and he felt his wrists cuffed behind his back. Then his feet were cuffed together as well. A blindfold was placed over his eyes, and a ball gag was forced into his mouth and inflated. His head hurt like hell, and his world was spinning. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stay conscious, but he could hear everything perfectly.
"Tighten that asshole, boy, "Creed ordered the boy Jimmy, "Oh God, yeah, just like that."
"Do him," Brady said, "Fuck that worthless White trash like he deserves. Fuck him back, trash. Fuck him like the faggot sex-slave you are. Swallow that cock with your ass."
The boy Jimmy was still crying and moaning through the continuing rape, but there was a change in his cries, one almost of acceptance.
Somewhere on the other side of the room, Reno heard a more familiar voice.
"Now, little black brother," Malik said, "Get down here and chow down on some prime dark meat."
The loud slurping sounds of an enthusiastic amateur sucking cock followed, and Reno could imagine Anthony's lips wrapped around Malik's big cock, his mouth servicing all that stud-conquering meat.
Torres, on the other hand, was on the phone.
"Yeah, he did," Torres said as Reno tried to focus in on his Latin accent, "Yeah, just like you said. I'm not happy about it, but he's got to go tonight, and for that we need you. Get up here pronto, and I'll have Malik meet you at the airport. Yeah, I'll call the other ones who were interested, but I think we know whose bid'll turn out highest."
"Bid?" Reno wondered in the last moments of consciousness before his world went silent and black.
Author's note: This story was written back in the 90s, and I cast certain men in given roles. You may want to imagine someone else, and that's okay. The same caveats as to the sexuality of my cast of actors apply here.
Wade Dominguez [RIP] (Wade): from the movie, City of Industry. Dominic Lucero [RIP] (Domonic): From the TV series, Roundhouse. Seth Green (Seth): from Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. Carl Weathers (Officer Creed): from the Rocky movies. Robert Kelker-Kelly (Officer Brady): From Days of Our Lives (even if Peter Reckell is cuter.) James Duval (Jimmy): from the movies, Nowhere and Independence Day. Anthony Wiggins (Anthony): personal trainer and dancer from any old episode of MTV's The Grind, or one of the Grind workout videotapes. Yes, tape. I said this story was old.