The press was beginning to run stories - not on the first page, but in "Section A" in the "better ones" , about the "epidemic" of missing men. Ivan and Mikhail had made up their mind, after their first hunt, that when something like this happened, they'd be off. There were tickets : "black market" tickets back to their home country, that they paid for in cash. They were paying on a month to month basis to their landlord, also in cash. Nothing that they owned was particularly valuable - except for the camera, and they were discussing whether or not they should take it with them and set up shop elsewhere, or destroy it. They were still discussing that point when they decided to "fill one last set of requests," as Ivan put it. "I have to be honest, Mikhail. I LOVE the look when the guys go off with their new owners. I wish I were a fly on the wall hearing what was happening." Ivan laughed. "Tell the truth. If we were staying, you'd want one of your own." Mikhail smiled: "that wild child: Damian. I wish I were the one getting his ass. " He was quiet, smiling, and then he shook his head. "We better get moving. When do we leave?" "Tomorrow. Early. VERY early. We'll have to get outta here by 5." "Looks like it won't be worth our while to sleep overnight. But let's get going. Three more, in and out, and then we'll get set to go." "Where today, Mikhail?" Mikhail thought a minute. "You know, I realized that we might have been avoiding a really good market: tourism. These guys aren't planning on staying in the city anyway, so if they disappear.... "They just went home early for some reason! More time before someone realizes they're gone. GOOD IDEA" "So, places where there are a lot of tourists?" "Sounds like a plan." Off they went. Down to the stock market area: crammed with tourists. A good place to "hunt."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx VII Ironically, their first "match" was not a tourist. It was early afternoon. They passed a small cafe' and Mikhail saw a fairly big, burly blond guy sitting at a table eating a sandwich and coffee. He wasn't young: let's say early 40s? He clearly worked out: his chest wasn't massive, but his pink shirt was straining to hold his pecs in place. "Remember that guy who put in an order for a big, straight blond guy with the look of an ex marine about him? We couldn't make that deal. I bet we could. Let me send him a text." Ivan pulled out the phone: "Hey Val. Sorry we couldn't make you happy last week. I bet we can this week. " He snapped a picture of the guy as he got up from his table. about 6'3" and big. Mikhail laughed as he stood up because he saw something that caused him to think this COULD work. Val wanted a straight guy. This blond was wearing pleated khaki pants - one side of heterosexuality in his book - but moreso, the pants were too small, and his belly hung over the waist band. It was something that turned on Val. "FUCK. You get that guy, I'll take him." "Tonight Mr. Val? Sometime between 8 and 9." "It's a deal. "
VIII And if it was a surprise that their first pick was not a tourist, it was even more of a surprise that their SECOND pick wasn't either. They were heading off to the ferry when they saw him: he turned out to be named Tony. He walked out of an office building: you could tell, this guy was COVERED with hair. His arms were hairy. Hair poked out of his short sleeved shirt that looked like it had been painted on him. He had a moustache and a slight beard. His body? Chunky and tight: short legs, long torso, but not more than 5'8". "He reminds me of that security guy we snatched, like a cousin or something." Ivan was snapping a photo. "His got very little hair on his head. Is that gonna be a problem? " Mikhail asked. "I guess, we'll find out" Ivan laughed. He went through the requests they hadn't filled. "Hmmm. Here's someone. Looking for a short hairy guy: 'too much hair isn't enough. Built would be good, great smile would be nice. Dark. Mediterranean." The guy they had just photo'd seem to satisfy everything. They sent a shot off to Mr. Phillips. The answer came back . "DAMN. I didn't say I like bald guys. I do. If no one else claims him, he's mine," he wrote back. "Ha ha, Mr. Phillips. No one else is gonna claim him if you show up tonight. 8-9."
IX FINALLY, they DID find a tourist. Jan was visiting from Austria. Probably late 20s/early 30s. Beautiful body, beautiful clothes. He affected the style of pants that were tight at the ankle, and the socks that made it look like you weren't wearing anything. "Alright, he's a fashionista." "He's beautiful" Mikhail answered Ivan. "What color are those eyes? Greenish/gray?" "Make sure you get the in the photo. Didn't we have someone who wanted a guy who was prematurely gray?" "YEAH! We did . Let me get a photo. " SNAP. Jan was now in the camera, and his photo was on the way to Leonard. "HOT. REALLY HOT. I'm in," was his answer. "Then let's meet up tonight. 8-9. No later."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx So the pickups went as easily as the first two groups went, and all three "snaps" went off with their new owners. They were still under the influence of the camera. That would fade.
Ed had been "gay" for a while. He had started straight, and then was in a gay relationship for several years. He never expected that he'd be, as he put it "the girl in the relationship," but his Master and Top Man kept him on a very tight leash. Eventually, he had gone back to being straight. THAT was about to change. He had fallen asleep after Val had taken him. As he woke up, he was tied in a chair: a position he knew well. His wrists were tied behind his back and there were three rounds of rope around his middle. He shook the grogginess out of his head. Ed didn't remember much, but he knew what it meant when he was tied up, and there was a shirtless man standing in front of him. "FUCK!!!!" he yelled " FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK" Val laughed and walked over. He grabbed Ed's hair and pulled his head back. "Let's take it easy there, stud. You're not gagged... yet. But it would be easy enough to do. Almost as easy... as playing with these big boys." Val began to run his thumbs over Ed's nipples. Scared, angry, and confused as he was, the sensation began to remind Ed of how his Master would work them every day. He had long taken the nipple ring out of his right tit, but if this guy checked, he'd see it and know. If he needed to. Ed was wearing khakis, and he was leaking. "NO. PLEASE. Don't.. Don't...." Val leered as he slipped his hand inside Ed's shirt and put flesh to flesh by squeezing a nipple. "You pierced Ed?" (He had emptied Ed's pockets and found out all about his address, his name, everything). Val could feel what he thought was a small hole in the tip of Ed's tit. "Yeah. Yeah. I was.. I was... years ago.. NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNnG. It was a gold ring." Val stopped playing with the nip and went to the front of Ed, pulled up a chair and sat down. "A pierced right nip, and a gold ring...." He looked pensive. "Were you another man's bitch, Edward?" "I don't want to say." "Yeah, but I WANT you to say." Val reached down and squeezed Ed's crotch. "Wanna reconsider?" He tightened the grip. "OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.. OK, OK. YEAH. YEAH. I was a sub for five years." Val didn't let go. "You take cock up your ass?" "YES. YES I DID." "And your mouth." "YES! AT LEAST ONE EVERY DAY." Val let go. "HO HO HO. I got me an experienced fucktoi. Life is good. We can start WAY sooner than I thought." He whispered into Ed's ear. "Once a bitch, ALWAYS a bitch."
VIII Tony was "on the down low." He'd go home to his family across the river every night. He was a good Italian boy: lived in a house right down the street from mom and dad, did his stints taking care of his sister's kids when she was busy, went to Sunday dinners. And every weekend, he headed into the city "to catch up on work," and visited at least a few of his favorite clubs: he sucked, he got sucked, occasionally he'd let his mom know he "needed to stay late, " and took a room so that he could "entertain a guest" as he called it. He was dreaming about that when he woke up. He pulled at the ropes holding down his wrists, and he felt the ropes on his ankles. The tape gag over his lips. He had been gagged once in his life, but not with tape. His first thought was how it was gonna feel when it came off: would it rip away his facial hair and hurt? Phillips walked in: a tall, very milky looking man who had a very serious expression. "TONY. You're a Jersey boy." "mmmmmmmmmmmph." Tony was already pleading. He didn't want this. It scared him. Philips heard the fear and smiled. "If you do what you're told, you don't have to worry. If you don't, you do. That clear enough?" Tony still had on his glasses and they bobbed with his head as he acknowledged what Phillips said. "Just relax. You're not in charge, Mr. CPA. I am ." Tony pulled at the ropes automatically when he felt Phillips fingers on his shirt. They were centered around Tony's navel. "mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmph!!!!!" Tony liked getting fucked, but he liked being 'convinced' to take dick. One way to convince him, was navel tickling. He began to wonder: did this guy know? HOW?" In fact, Phillips didn't know. He just liked belly play. He opened the buttons around Tony's middle, and began to probe: to pinch, to circle. Tony couldn't laugh because of the gag, but he squirmed. Phillips smiled. "OH. My boy likes that..." He pressed his pinky into the cavity of Tony's navel. "You my boy Tony? You gonna be my boy?" Tony shook his head NO vigorously. "Ha ha. That's what you think. Tony man, you're wrong. I'll have you begging to do what I tell you to... in less than a week. Trust me." "A WEEK!" Tony thought. What about... what about home? WHAT THE... OH SHIT! Phillips pulled out an electric toothbrush and got to work on Tony's navel. Tony wanted to die. It wasn't enough to make him laugh, but it was just on the edge. His cock began to harden. It got harder as Phillips shoved a tongue into his ear. "Tony, let me make this clear. The sooner you accept the way things are now, the sooner you'll be getting back to the rest of your life. Facts are facts though: you were kidnapped, no question. I didn't kidnap you, but I bought you. I own you. And you'll do what I say. GOT IT?" Tears were forming in Tony's eyes, but he knew: he just KNEW from the tone of Phillips voice: at least for now, there was no way out. He nodded yes. "EXCELLENT. The weekend approaches and we'll have some time for you to learn more about your new duties. The first of which, is to receive THIS whenever and wherever I want to use it." Phillips dropped his pants to show a rather impressive cock. "Let me take these off, my pretty Italian prince. I wouldn't want them broken." He took Tony's glasses and put them on a side table. Then Tony felt his shoes go off, and then Phillips hands at his belt. "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH!!!" He shook his head no, and Phillips just smiled. "Get used to it." He had Tony's pants off, and then his speedo briefs, and then he pushed Tony's legs in the air. Tony closed his eyes and took deep breaths, the way he did every time he took cock up his ass.
IX
Mikhail and Ivan DID get photos of some tourists, including Jan, who was visiting from Austria. Again, there had been a very detailed, very specific request: "prematurely gray/ salt and pepper. Nice build. Cute face. " The two photographers had seen a LOT of salt and pepper hair, but not much premature gray. This guy was definitely not looking for a "DILF": they confirmed that by emailing him. His response was "more like an otter I guess. Lots of hair would be nice: ON HIS BODY, but not necessary." They spotted Jan coming off the ferry: all the boxes were checked: he was clearly younger than he should have been for that hair: 50/50 salt and pepper. Beard, well trimmed, Moustache. BIG smile when he laughed. Well dressed. They sent off the photo to Barry, the guy who was looking. The answer came back immediately: "he's the one." Barry came by that night. That's when they learned that Jan was Austrian. Barry asked when he heard his accent. Barry spoke a little German, but not a lot. He said "From now on, I'm your Herr. Verstehst du?" "Na ja" came the answer. "Jetzt gehen wir!" Barry snapped. "Now, let's go" . Off they went, in Barry's car. Barry lived outside of the city in a modest sized house. It had a full basement, and that's where he put Jan: in wrist shackles that he had had installed in a little private dungeon. Then he waited, until the spell of the camera wore off. He knew it did when he started hearing the screaming in German. He laughed, and picked up his flogger. "Jan. Welcome to your new home." "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? LET ME GO. I HAVE TO RETURN TO HOME." He pulled futilely at the chains. Barry laughed. "I don't think you're going anywhere young man. And if I were you..." He backed up and flicked the flogger at Jan. "I'd calm down." "HEY STOP. WHAT THE FUCK? WHY ARE YOU WHIPPING ME? " "Because I can. You'll learn that if you don't do what you're told, there are... consequences." Barry got closer and drew the flogger up Jan's crotch. "The shots to your chest are one thing, but ...." He snickered. "Let's assume I aim lower." "YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH THIS. I WILL BE FOUND." Barry smiled again. "I don't think so Jan. I think the only way you'll be found, is if I decide I tire of you. We'll see if I do." Barry dropped his slacks and showed Jan his hard cock. "I think that may take a while." "You... you want to use me." Jan said slowly, beginning to understand what was going on. "Das is richtig". "That is correct. And I'm starting with this." He showed Jan a collar and a leash. "I'll take you off the wall, but you'll be wearing this. And you'll follow me on all fours, to the bedroom. And there... I will introduce you to your new life. Taking my cock. " Jan continued to pull at the chains holding him to the wall. He struggled as Barry put the collar around his neck, only yielding when the flogger DID come down on his crotch. He began to whimper. "You can do nothing Jan. You are my property now." He attached the leash to the collar. "I'm unchaining you. Get on your hands and knees." "yes sir" Jan's voice dropped low. He didn't know where he was, and he could tell from the way his pockets felt, everything had been removed: his phone, his money, his ID. He had played with other boys when he was younger, but not for fifteen years. The "walk" to Barry's bedroom was humiliating. He was glad his girlfriend, in Austria, didn't see it. "STAY ON THE FLOOR, CUR. YOU'LL TAKE IT DOGGIE STYLE." Jan's English wasn't good enough to understand what "doggie style meant. When Barry took him from behind, he knew. "OH, You are sweet, Jan. Like a good strudel. " Barry laughed. "Actually, your ass is EATING a good strudel." Barry's dick had found his prostate and Jan wanted desperately to play with himself: to somehow get some relief. He'd fall flat on his face if he did though. Instead, he closed his eyes and winced as Barry "introduced him to his new life," as he put it. At the end Barry told him to roll on his back. "Jerk off. In front of me. And then understand: I control what you do with your cock. Think of whatever you want. I don't care, as long as I fuck you." Jan closed his eyes. He tried to think of his lady, but all he thought about was the feeling of Barry's cock in him. He wet his hand with saliva a few times and eventually shot a load. Barry caught some of it and brought it to his lips. "EAT IT. EAT YOUR CUM." As he said it, Barry's knee was resting on Jan's crotch. He had no choice. "GOOD. You'll need to learn how to swallow cum. No better way to start than with your own. Now, let's get you ready. We need to have you sleep a bit. Training begins in the morning. " "yes sir" was all Jan could say.
Gentle readers: in the three preceding chapters, and this one, you've met our NINE subs. In order to make it easier to follow, I will write about three of them in each chapter. So, if you have a favorite, know that Chad, Ramon and Steve are up next. Then, we'll look in on Sebastian, Damian, and Mark. The cycle concludes with Ed, Tony and Jan. Hope that makes things clearer. Be well