I
The first round of photographs had been so successful for Mikhail and Ivan that they were ready to go out "hunting" as they called it immediately. Ivan was the first of the two of them to have some concerns. "Mike, you know, we maybe did things wrong yesterday? Yes, there's a lot of people in the university, but you think someone is gonna look at the reports and say "three people vanished from there in one day," and begin asking questions?" Ivan was lost in thought. "I see your point. I had some worries too. We didn't check: Were they married? Do they have children? All of that can make someone more eager to go find out what happened. We gotta be aware of that." "You're right. And maybe... " They put their heads together and decided to "lay low" for a few days. The three buyers, and the unsuccessful ones, would probably spread the word about their enterprise. Yes, they COULD provide new "product" every day, but why should they? It was too risky. Also, Ivan came up with the idea of "custom orders." "You know, Mike: advertise that if they give us the info on what they want, and we can produce, then the price is... it's not 25k, but 40k. We can do that because there won't be any auctions. "AH! So if we find someone they like, no one knows but the buyer, and us. There's some security there. GOOD PLAN!" "And... no more than one grab from a site in a given day. We can still use the info on where there are lots of guys, but... only one. And then we don't go back for a while. "YES YES YES. We can't succeed if we don't avoid detection. We'll put the site back up for one day. Three days from now. After we decide on where to hunt. They decided that the museum was STILL a good idea: there were lots of people there. Whether men came who did not have family connections, was another matter. It was still worth a try: if the photos didn't work out, then there was no foul. And who could question tourists taking photos at a museum? Also, they thought that hanging out outside one of the more popular gyms, would not be a bad idea. They could research which ones had "gay" reputations. To be sure, the husbands of anyone they snatched would be looking for him (they thought), but they were only going to take one, and they COULD do "quality control." They also decided that going to the business section of the city was a good idea: the weather was still warm, so no one was wearing gloves, and they could see wedding rings, or their absence. They had their targets, and they would separate the hunts. When the website went up, it contained the following statement: "Dear Potential Clients: Thank you for your interest in our material. It was well beyond what we hoped for, and we were inundated with requests. If you did not succeed in an auction, or you did not have time to see what was available and missed out, we have an alternative. We are going to a "special order" system. You tell us what you're looking for, and we'll look for you. We will let you know when we have at least one alternative for you. If we agree, you will provide payment upon receipt of your merchandise. Time is of the essence in these transactions, so we ask that you be prompt. Thanking you in advance "The Happiness Team."
They received their first request within 3 hours. It was a very well written message, clearly from someone educated: "Good day, Happiness Team. I read your website with interest. Perhaps you can help me. My name is Nate. You would probably recognize me if you saw me in the papers. In any event, I'm looking for someone no more than half my age (I'm 60). Dark hair, dark eyes. He should be intelligent and he shouldn't be too skinny. I like a little flesh. I'm 6'1", so I'd like him to be shorter than that. If by some chance you find something that may interest me, let me know. Thank you, Nate." Mike and Nate looked at each other. "Intelligent? Can't go back to the university yet. Try the museum?" Mike asked. "It's as good a choice as any. How are we going to be able to tell if he's intelligent?" It turned out to be easier than they thought.
IV Sebastian Fox had finished his PhD about 5 months before he got his job as an assistant curator and docent at the Museum. He certainly was qualified for the job, having defended the dissertation "with distinction." The university had offered him a job, teaching one of their fundamental courses for freshmen, but he declined. The museum was looking for someone who was qualified in his area (French impressionism), and he applied. It was a tedious process, and he began to regret turning down the university job. Then, he got the call: if he wanted the job, he could have it. It would involve a fair amount of routine, low level curatorship, like tracing ownership of paintings, but it would also involve giving tours: 3-4 of them a day, to different groups. RIGHT UP HIS ALLEY! Sebastian had been shy as a young boy, and had worked, HARD, to be more forward. He had also been a heavy kid and, while he fought the "battle of the bulge" as he called it, every day, he was winning. He cut a fine figure in his blue suit, his red tie, his white shirt. "MON DIEU" he would joke: if he were leading tours on French painting, he should wear the tri colors, oui? He was leading a tour when Ivan and Mikhail got to the museum. They walked around, snapping pictures, and then editing: they had decided to do ONE hunt each time they went out (they had 7 requests from that one post), and so they avoided the thinner blond guys who seemed so prevalent. Mikhail, who had studied French in Europe, heard Sebastian's accent as he described a painting to a group of blue haired ladies. "IVAN! IVAN! " he tried whispering, not too successfully. "IS THAT OUR MAN?" Ivan looked up as Sebastian was pushing his bangs out of his face. "NICE FIND KID. NICE FIND! Let me get the shot. He's right in front of that painting, so...." the phone clicked, and they inspected the photo. "GOOD ONE. You can see he's got a bit of a belly, and you can see his smile. " "Let's hang around, talk to him Maybe get some info for Mr Nate." When the tour broke up, Mikhail approached and began speaking in his rusty French. Sebastian answered. "You are not a native speaker Monsieur. Like me. " Mikhail had broken the ice and the three of them had a conversation.
At the end of the conversation, Ivan wrote to Nate: "Dear Mr. Nate. I am sending a photograph to you. We saw this young man at the Museum. He's 28, has a PhD, and speaks French. If you are interested, let us know. " They heard nothing for a half hour. Then a message came in. "HE'S PERFECT. TELL ME WHEN TO PICK HIM UP." Ivan looked at the date stamp on the photo. They had taken it at 11:15. "We want to do some final checks. Do you think you could pick him up on an hour's notice?" "YES! ABSOLUTELY. I WANT HIM. GET HIM FOR ME!" "Ok partner, let's see if we can make Nate happy." They summoned Sebastian at 8:30 that night, as he was trolling yet another gay website looking for a date. ANY date. He'd top, he'd bottom, he just wanted to get his rocks off. "I've never heard of that address. What's there?" He thought to himself as the summons came through. He had worked until 7, and had just had a quick dinner. He had taken off his jacket and tie, and pushed back his sleeves, but he hadn't even changed yet. Still, Sebastian put on his leather jacket, called a car, and headed off to Ivan and Mikhail's. He knocked on the door. "I'm sorry to disturb you gentlemen, but... I may have the wrong address. I'm supposed to meet someone here?" "No, you've come to the right place Sebastian. We've been waiting for you. Your date isn't here yet. Please come in. " He pointed to a seat and began chatting him up. "Do you recognize us Sebastian?" Sebastian looked puzzled and then... OH YEAH. WAIT. You were the guys at the museum today? Ivan smiled. "FUCK . What am I doing here and..." He tried to get up out of the seat and found he couldn't. "Why can't I get up ? What's going on?" "In due time, Sebastian, in due time. For now, we have some questions to ask." They found out he was in fact single and not seeing anyone, his family lived in France, and there were no relatives in the state. "You'll excuse me, Sebastian ? I have to make a call." Ivan asked. "Yeah, but... why the hell can't I get up?" "Nate will explain it to you" "Nate? who's Nate." "He'll be here in half an hour" Ivan came back into the room. They made idle chat, ignoring Sebastian's concerns about not being able to get up.
When the bell rang again, it was Nate. Yes, he DID look familiar. Wasn't he the guy who..." He saw Sebastian sitting on the chair. "GEEZ. He's perfect!" he whispered, and walked over. "You're Sebastian? I'm Mr. Nate. More correctly, Master Nate." Sebastian looked at him and felt... where had this man been. He could get out of the chair. "How are you doing Sir? I'm Sebastian Fox." Nate laughed. "Well, Sebastian, you're certainly a fox. You know why I'm here?" "Uh, am I your date Sir?" Nate smiled. "In a manner of speaking. My car is outside. Shall we go?" "Yes sir. If that's what you'd like to do." "First, put your hands behind your back."' "Yes sir." Nate slipped metal cuffs on Sebastian's wrists. He put two large stacks of money in front of Ivan. "Count it. 40k in two 20k packets." "I think we can trust you Mr. Bracken." Nate smiled. "Well played. A subtle hint of blackmail always works." "Won't be necessary if it's all here, Sir." "It's all there. " He turned to Sebastian. "Let's go boy. We have MUCH to talk about." "Yes sir." Mike looked at Ivan. "MUCH EASIER than I thought it would be."
When the spell of the camera wore off the next day, sebastian found himself tightly bound at the ankles the knees, his wrists behind his back, a solid coil of ropes around his chest, and another rope binding his elbows. There was a huge wad of cloth in his mouth, and plastic tape over his mouth. "mmmmmmmmmmmph" he muttered and then, when he found he REALLY couldn't move, tried to scream. "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH" Nate walked in. He was carrying a paddle "I really prefer a quiet house Sebastian. And I find that nothing quiets a boy down, like a little bout of bastinado." Sebastian felt his loafers being removed. "Will you be quiet?" Nate smacked the paddle against his hand. Sebastian nodded 'yes'. "EXCELLENT. We can begin then."
V
He went by the name of Damian Feuerstein, but his real name was John Jones. Damian had run away from home when he was 16, after another beating from his stepfather for - GEEZ, there had been so many , he had forgotten: was it for smoking marijuana, or for shoplifting, or... the big no no - sucking dick? He found that there was no lack of dick to suck in NY, no lack of marijuana, and while shoplifting was harder, he found it easy - at first. Now, though, his face was known to most stores worth stealing from in NY, and Damian saw his shoplifting days ending: no more Cartier watches, or designer jackets. He needed a day job, and he found one, as a porter at one of NY's high end buildings. He was working "off the books" because the superintendent liked him, and Damian would throw him a blow job about once a month. That was his day job: at night, he hustled. Or, rather, he "escorted." Damian had found a career as a "Bottom/versatile" hustler "who's the boy your mother told you to stay away from." Bright blue eyes, wild blond hair , a rangy build that made one think of an alley cat, he was hot as hell. EVERYONE wanted to tame him, and no one could. That was before Philip. Philip was obese, with a receding hairline, and rather demanding in his sexual needs. They had gone unsatisfied until his mother had died and, as the only child, he inherited a nice sum of money. He didn't look for love, because he wouldn't find it, and he knew it. What he looked for, was release: a hot blond ass on a skinny guy, and a warm mouth that would accommodate his less than average length. His message was not as well written as Nate's but his requirements were: blond. Young or young looking (but legal). Blue eyes. A kid who needs a firm hand. " Ivan and Mikhail had found Damian after they had spent the day snapping shots in midtown. They hadn't found "the right match" for any of their clients, but as they headed to the subway, they saw Damian hanging out in front of the building where he worked, talking with the doorman. "I think.... I think... we might have found Philip's match." Damian's shirt billowed around him: ALL his shirts did. He was too thin, and not built. In any event, he preferred to be naked. Still, from all of that material, the two guys saw: a match. "CLICK" went the camera. At that moment, Damian thought a mosquito had bitten him, but he found no blood. He shrugged it off, while Ivan and Mikhail made their way back to their place. When they got there, they sent Damian's picture to Philip. This time they only included a "?" with it. They got back a "thumbs up" emoji. Now, they had to do the planning. "When can you be here, Philip?" "When is he available?" "Let's wait for dark. 9pm? " "9pm it is. I hope this isn't false advertising..." Mike brought up the photo of Damian and spoke "You have an appointment at this address: 8:30pm. At 8:30, Damian was there. He hadn't changed out of work clothes. "Yo, Damian here. You didn't say what you wanted so... Why don't we get that straightened out, boss? " He looked behind Ivan and saw Mikhail. "HEY LOOK. I do threesomes, but the meter starts at a different number guys. " He felt a soft, cold hand on his shoulder. "No threesomes for you tonight, son. And it's shameful that you would think about that." Damian whirled around and saw Philip's smiling face. "Sorry Sir. I misunderstood. I didn't know YOU were my date." Philip put his arm around Damian. "Why don't you go out to that car? The beat up one. Just sit in the passenger side." "Yes sir." Damian went to the car, the way he had so many times. Philip was smiling and he was leaking too. "Is he disease free? Did you check?" "No guarantees." "Well, I'm not sure..." "Then let him out of the car, take your money and go." "GOD. He's so... He's so BEAUTIFUL. He looks like a fallen angel." "That he does" Mikhail added. "If you weren't so interested, I'd think about keeping him for myself. " Ivan looked at him with a quizzical expression. "You mean.. You mean I could lose him?" "Very easily. Right now, it's up to you. Pay up, or give him back. Your choice. "You don't guarantee disease free?" "Did you see it on the website, Mr.?" Philip shook his head. "What's coming to this world?" Then he put down the money. "I expect there's no refunds either?" "Nope. All sales final." He sighed. "I hope mother approves." As he got into the car, he patted Damian on the leg. "You ticklish kid?" Damian squirmed. "A little. Sir." "Well, maybe I'll tickle you. A little. " A day later, Damian was laying on Philip's bed, buck naked. He was screaming. "FUCK STOP. STOP. MY FEET. MY FUCKING FEET. MY RIBS. SHIT MAN. WHAT DO YOU WANT. TAKE MY ASS AGAIN. JUST STOP." Philip leaned down to Damian's ear. "You are so FUCKING BEAUTIFUL. All you need... is some discipline.." He smiled as he brought over nipple clamps, and Damian started screaming "NO. NO. AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH"
VI The final "hunt" for Mikhail and Ivan took them to the gay gym, as they planned. This note was from someone named Chris. "Hey. Chris here. I'm just out of a relationship. I bottomed for ten years, when I wanted to top. Now I want to top. I wanna top a body builder. BIG. BIG MUSCLES Nice face. Particular fetish of mine: bald. Can ya help me?" The note struck Mikhail. He loved it. He wrote back. "We'll do what we can. Don't be too far away from your phone." He and Ivan looked enough like tourists that they could pass in "boys town" without anyone noticing anything odd. Clearly, they were visitors, maybe a tourist couple, who knew? They were standing across the street from one of the major gay gyms in the city. "I don't know about the bald part, but the rest: shouldn't be hard. After about an hour, they found what they were looking for. Mark Skipper came out of the gym after his second workout of the day. He was not a kid: Chris hadn't specified age, so they weren't worried. He was wearing a red cap, a tank top, and shorts when he came out, carrying a gym bag. It was hot, and he took off his hat so he could wipe the sweat... .from his bald head. "BINGO" Mike whispered, as he took the photo. They brought the photo into closeup mode, to look for a ring: there was one, but it was a college ring. Harvard. "Smart too. Ha ha." "At his age, he doesn't need a college ring," Ivan answered Mark. "Did you see his nipples pointing out of his shirt?" "DAMN RIGHT I did. Too bad we didn't get any nipple fetishists. We COULD do some kind of auction Mikhail sent off the photo. "Hey Chris. You didn't give an age range. If you want a kid, we'll keep looking . If not... how's this guy?" Chris texted back. "I just shot a load. I want the next one to be in his ass." "So, you'll take him? " "I'll take him." Mikhail smiled at Ivan. "I think we've had a busy day. Now let's get the bull to the china shop." Again, they got home, and again, they summoned Mike: party at..... Business casual." Ivan threw that in because he thought Mark would look better in that style. When he showed up at the door, he saw he was right: navy blue button down, sleeves rolled to show his biceps, khakis. "FUCKING HOT" Chris let out from behind them. "Mark, your date got here a little early. "Hey, I'm Mark. Nice to meet you." The guys could see Mark trying to figure out what was going on. "Why don't we head out, Mark? The sooner we leave, the more time we have together. " "Sounds good," he smiled. He didn't see the cash sitting on the kitchen table where Chris, Ivan and Mikhail had had their coffee. "I think he'll be very happy," Mike said and indeed, Chris was. If you checked at his loft a day later, you would have found Mark, naked, and stretched out on the bed, with a penis gag in his mouth. Chris' hand was on Mark's cock, edging him as he had been for the last half hour, and his mouth was licking at Mark's nipple: a hot spot he had found about five hours earlier. "Ready for another round big boy?" Mark shook his head no and Chris laughed. "Ha ha. TOO DAMN BAD" When Mark resisted bending his knees, Chris tickled Mark's feet and his legs folded like a cheap chair. Chris' had ten inches when he was hard, and he was hard. And for the third time since they had met, he was inside Mark.
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Our boys are gonna do one last hunt gentle readers, and then... Oh, the fun we'll have with nine stories playing at the same time. Don't like one? Go to the next.
TO BE CONTINUED