Steven Swenson discovered he was bisexual in his early teens and as a result of some rather badly managed liaisons his mother and step-father encouraged him at eighteen to get into college, complete a degree and get a job in a town as far away from them as possible. This he did, ending up in a town on the banks of the Savannah River in Georgia where he began a job as a trainee accountant with a very conservative firm. By 25 he was well on the way to a career as a forensic accountant.
"I spent several years working like crazy and going straight - I only fucked girls! I lived is modest condo I bought with some money from when my Dad died, had a Facebook page and was totally on a 'normal' track." he said, "But I was always having fantasies about gay sex. One night I was way hornier than usual and I was browsing Craig's List, looking at all the ads for gay hookups. It was just a crazy idea but I figured if I pretended I was in another town I could place an ad and just get off on the responses without risking anything. I took a photo in the mirror of my bathroom that didn't show my face and I placed an ad under a different name and an email address I made for the name. I was sorta scared right after I did it and thought maybe I should delete it, but doing the ad made me horny and I was pretty sure there was no way it actually exposed me any way."
It was tax season and Steven was very busy and did not actually check his new email address for two days.
"I was shocked when I did check - I had over twenty replies! Most of them were from crazies or players or made proposals there was no way I could follow up on. Several were really interesting but I just thought I'd take my time on deciding whether to respond or not. There was one that I kept on thinking about. The writer seemed really sane and reasonable and had some really good things to say about me and about how I should think carefully about looking for a relationship. He was older, in his forties, was named Dan and the more I read the more interesting he sounded. He left a phone number. That was a problem. It seemed so much hornier to actually speak to someone rather than get off over an email! I thought it over for a day, figuring that he did not have my name and I could think of no other way a short conversation would create a problem. That evening I phoned. As the number was ringing my heart was pounding - was I doing the right thing? Had I covered everything I had thought through? Something was bothering me but I couldn't figure out what. Then he answered.
The conversation went well enough, polite questions I was able to answer even though a little nervously. I was starting to feel oaky about the call, he wasn't pressing for anything and sounded very calm and measured. I was thinking this might even go further than a single phone call. Even tho he was asking questions about sex they were pretty straightforward and there was nothing creepy about his responses to my answers. He seemed okay with my admission that I was Bi and had a current girlfriend. He seemed especially happy with the pale blonde pubic hair in my photo and wanted to know if this was colored or if my head hair was the same color. I declined to email a head shot but said I might "later on."
It was then that he calmly said, "You're ad said you name was Charlie Smith but I see from your phone number that it is Steven Swenson...is that right, Steven?"
My stomach cramped. Fuck! That's what was bothering me as I dialed - I had forgotten to switch my phone ID off.
"I guess from the stunned silence I am right, Steven," he laughed easily, "You should know I can do a reverse lookup on your cell number and get a name and location."
I stammered over that and then said, "Yes, that's my name..."
He laughed again and then seemed to dismiss the name thing and asked if I was into the scene in my hometown very much and I said no, I wasn't. He asked questions about hotels and gay clubs and again I said I didn't know. He ended the conversation by saying that he hoped I would call again, I said I'd be glad to - thinking that there would be no way now that he had my name - I'd want him to forget me as soon as possible.
I was in a sweat when the call ended, thinking I'd dodged a bullet and would never, ever, do that again! Even so, I had hell of a hard on! My cock was like an iron bar over the whole conversation and even the idea of almost blowing my cover seemed somehow how erotic as well as scary.
I was driving back from my girlfriend's apartment the following night when he called me. I was in traffic and just took the call without knowing whom it was from. Elena, the girl I had just been fucking, often called afterward.
"Steven, It's Dan, I hope this is not a bad time, you're not in bed are you?"
I stammered, cursing myself for not looking at the number, "No I am just driving back from my girlfriend's place," Then, as an afterthought I added, "We've just been fucking our brains out."
He laughed, "Sounds like you had a good time. Were you with Elena Rodriguez, I've seen a lot of pictures of your two partying on your Facebook page?"
I almost swerved onto the pavement! I tried, not very well, to sound calm, "Er, yeah, that's the girl, yeah Elena."
As I spoke I drove into Wal-Mart parking lot, my heart pounding. This didn't sound good.
"She is a very good looking girl, I liked the pictures of her in a bikini when you both went to Cozumel."
"You found my Facebook page then," I said, trying not to sound scared shitless.
"Yes Steven, and your linked in profile as well. I see that your work as an accountant for a very prestigious firm that handle just about every major corporation in town. Very impressive."
I started mentally erasing my Facebook page and LinkedIn Profile as soon as I got back home!
"What I really enjoyed seeing was your face, very handsome and Nordic and lovely blonde hair. Nice to put the face with body in your Craig's List ad!"
Now I was in a cold sweat.
"I can tell you're very nervous about this Steven, but I want to assure that I am always very discreet in these things and there is nothing to be concerned about at all."
It was then that the words I almost knew were coming drilled into my ear like an ice pick," I am very pleased with what I see, Steven, and I'd like you to come up to Atlanta so that we can chat privately."
I immediately started blurting out a garble string of excuses about work and busy stuff.
He chuckled, "Steven, please, I know you can make the time to come up just for a chat, nothing more. It's not like your boss wouldn't give you the time, Harry Benson, right?"
I listened, my heart pounding and nausea rising in my stomach as he reeled off the names of the principals of the accounting firm, the department Elena worked in, and some of m y client friends at firms on my work list.
"These are not people who would react well if they were to get copies of your Craig's List add with that photo - and a Facebook photo of you wearing the same bracelet, now would they?"
I was in full panic mode now.
He laughed easily, "You see, Steven, you've already made a couple of bad mistakes and if I can figure this out, anyone can. You're lucky I know how important discretion is. So why don't come up to Atlanta? No expectations. Just a pleasant afternoon chat, some tea perhaps and if you're comfortable with me maybe you'll agree to make another visit - then you can go back home a little wiser and keep your vanilla life intact. What do you say? Please, come on up this weekend, won't you?"
He sounded so at ease, friendly, non-threatening and in no hurry. I said, "Okay, I'll come." I still had in mind that I wouldn't, but I needed time to think it through.
I said okay again and he chuckled, "Great, I'll email you directions. Let's say around 2:00pm tomorrow, Saturday then?"
MapQuest took me right to the front door. But the address was a tattoo parlor in an old Victorian style house in a part of town I wouldn't normally be in.
I was sure it was the wrong address, so I called.
"No, you have the right place - just come in and tell the girl at the desk you're here for Dan and they'll give you directions."
I was relieved at that; I was guessing that he didn't want to share his actual address via email.
I slid my wallet under seat of the car and walked inside. There was a great looking Goth girl behind a desk and a series of rooms where customers were getting tattoos. A huge body builder type with no neck was standing by the door. He opened the door as I approached it.
"You lookin' for Dan?" He asked.
I nodded and half turned to go back out the so he could tell me which direction to go in. Instead he grinned and took my arm and steered me past the closing door, "Just follow me," he said, not letting go of my arm while he turned toward a set of narrow stairs behind the desk. I was confused by this but he was now steering me in front of him and up the first steps of the stairway, holding my arm still and sort of leading me forward. I went up the stairs."
"But...this isn't where Dan lives right?"
No neck chuckled, "You mean Mister Dan? No, he doesn't live here."
I guessed I was going to be given some kind of directions upstairs and the guy steered me to the top of the stairs and into a small room set up as a tattoo studio. He closed the door and stood in front of it, "Steven right?"
"Yeah, " I said, still waiting for some sign of the directions. A curtain swung aside and a young guy in shorts, a vest and a million tattoos stepped through. He looked at me with a less than warm expression, looked at no neck and nodded at the studio table.
No neck pushed me forward, "Get undressed and get on the table, Stevie."
Obviously there was some mistake. I turned and started to explain. That's when no neck's fist popped me in the right eye!
I was so stunned I dropped to the floor, gasping in pain and cradling my face. No neck reached down, ripped my t-shirt out of my jeans and pulled it off me.
I was still too stunned to say anything that made sense. No neck then picked me up bodily and dumped me on the table.
"Wait a minute! There's some mistake..." No neck produced a knife, slit through my belt and the waistband of my jeans and ripped my jeans off along with my leather slip on shoes. I'd decided to travel commando style so I was now completely naked.
"Lay on the fucking table or you'll get two black eyes!" He grabbed my neck and forced me down. My face was hurting like hell and swelling already. I didn't resist as he pushed me down but I did start whining about not being there for a tattoo and that he had it all wrong.
"Listen, Stevie, you ARE here for a fucking tattoo and if you don't lay still I'll not only belt you again I'll whip your pretty ass with a cane until you do lay still!"
I gasped as my face was pressed down on the leather table. I started to kick with my legs and swung them back off the table. That was when no neck grabbed my hands and pulled my arms out straight. Someone grabbed my ankles and did the same thing, stretching me out on the table. I struggled and looked back - it was the Goth girl receptionist pulling on my ankles. She had to have been a lot stronger than I thought. A third person grabbed the hair on the back of my head and as I opened my mouth to yell a cloth was stuffed into my mouth. No neck and the girl were pulling hard; I looked around as I tried to spit the cloth out of my mouth. The tattoo guy was pulling a rod out of a plastic tube and spraying it with something from a bottle of colored fluid. It looked as if it was covered with a fuzzy coating.
"How's that gonna work, ZeeZee?" said No neck.
"Simple, that fuzz is extremely thin wire, breaks the skin just like a tattoo needle." as he spoke he raised his arm and slashed down at my ass. I screamed through the gag, I mean, really screamed. Another slash followed and screamed again and heaved. I would have puked but my stomach was empty. I saw stars and I think I passed out from the intense pain.
I heard Goth Girl saying something in amazement, "That's perfect, ZeeZee. Two really parallel stripes! They'll look really cool!"
"Yeah, " said ZeeZee, " When it heals there'll be two neat red stripes that'll let everyone know he really got his ass whipped!"
I moaned and collapsed on the table, "Please. Please I'll do as I'm told, really. Please don't hit me again!"
The ZeeZee guy pressed something down on the right cheek of my ass, and then peeled it off.
No neck pushed my head down again, "Okay, bitch, now stay still or else!"
I was hurting, feeling sick to my stomach, and scared. I was sure Dan was not aware of this, it had to be a mistake right? But I was in no shape to put up any resistance. I started to hear the buzz of the tattoo needle machine and could feel it on my skin. I figured the best thing I could do was to wait and then get out of the studio the first chance I had. It must have been about thirty minutes, maybe not but it just seemed a while before the tattoo guy said, "Okay. That's done."
I thought if I could get out with just this one mistake on my ass I'd be able to lie with it, but then No neck slapped my ass, "Okay bitch, role over onto your left side so Jack can do the next one." I was pushed over and tried to raise my head and see what was happening. My right eye was starting to close up and my vision was blurry. 'The next one!' Was there more?
I had my answer when the guy named Jack smoothed a strip of paper down from the top of my right thigh to halfway down toward my knee. I whined and tried to tell them they were making a mistake but the big guy slapped my head down on the leather again and the pain in my head was excruciating. I knew then there was nothing to do but lay there. It took another long while for the artist to finish whatever was being inked onto my thigh. When he finished I was rolled over onto my back. Jack squirted some shaving cream on my pubic hair and shaved it off, wiped and dried the skin and then third fucking thing was tattooed on my stomach just above my cock.
I guessed it all took a couple of hours or so. My skin was sore as hell and my head ached to where I was feeling sick.
No neck said, "Get up!"
I got off the table and stood shakily on my feet. There was a large mirror on the wall opposite the table. My knees were shaking as I saw a blurry image of two large black letters tattooed on my stomach. I couldn't make out what was running down my thigh.
No neck grabbed my arm again and steered me through the curtained door the artist had walked through. "Hey, I need my pants, my clothes!"
No neck grunted," you don't need your fucking clothes stupid. "
I was pushed down a corridor and into another room with pocket doors that were open to a second room. The first was set up as a studio with blackened walls and ceilings while the other was loaded with video and camera equipment. There was a small raised circular stage covered in leather.
"Sit on the edge of the stage!" I was told. A woman was setting up a video camera, which she switched on, and then a still camera that she focused on me.
I was getting numb by now, starting to feel how pointless it was to resist or complain. I'd figured out by now this was no mistake!
"Alright! He looks good Bernie, " the woman said to No neck, now I had a name.
"Yeah, Dan did good didn't he? Now get on with what Dan needs, we've got a lot to do."
"Sure, Bernie," she said smiling pleasantly. She turned to me, "Okay hon, we're gonna do a few stills and then a video, so just follow my directions and we'll get through this as quick as we can."
I looked at Bernie, he was holding the thin cane he'd used in the tattoo studio and he tapped it in his palm, looking at me with a grin on his face.
I slumped on the edge of the little stage. The woman came over to me with a cloth, "Here, this is cold water, put it on that swelling, you're gonna get a real shiner when that bruise comes out," she handed me the cloth; it felt good on the swelling.
"Now sit up and open your legs, Hon, and I'll get a couple of shots."
My face was hot and crimson, but opened my legs with my head hanging down. "Face the camera Hon. Look up!"
Over the next few minutes she made several shots, straight on with my thighs apart, then standing up to one side so she could photo the letters that were tattooed down my thigh, and finally bending over to photo whatever had been tattooed on my ass. The she told me to sit back down on the stage. The leather was soft, but the cane stripes and the tattoo were still sore.
"What's this mean, Bernie, the letter on his thigh?" she asked.
"That's Dan's WGN - you know, Rita, 'working girl number.'"
"Oh, okay, we're ready now for Randi now," she said. She put the still camera down and looked through a video camera on a tripod.
I was feeling very strange, a mixture of pain, humiliation, fear and dejection. But under it all was a very weird feeling of something that was making me get hard. I was shaking as well, just shocked and totally confused.
Bemie opened the door and said something and a moment later a guy stepped into the room dressed in a short white robe. My stomach sank as he three the robe off and smiled at me. He was tall, very muscular with reddish brown skin and jet-black hair, he looked like and Indian but for a turban. He was stroking his cock as it stiffened.
"Hey this is nice! A white blonde boy huh?"
He grinned and put one knee on the stage beside me and caressed my nipples. Thanks to my episode years ago with a Mr. Hudson, who had pierced my nipples when I was fifteen, they were already enlarged. Now they were getting stiff and hard. I moaned as I figured out what was gonna happen next, "Oh fuck no!"
Randi chuckled, "Actually fuck - yes...but first you can see what you're doing to my cock..." He took a fistful of my hair in his hand and steered my mouth toward his cock. I knew I'd get whipped if I didn't. I knew I was being video taped. I knew I had no way out. Beside all the alarm bells that had long been going off in my head, there was also that erotic excitement that made no sense. I whined, but I closed my eyes and opened my mouth.
"That's right, hon, just follow Randi's lead," said Rita with a smirk in her voice.
"OH Yeah, you've sucked cock before! That's sweet! Hhmmn yeah, that's good bitch!"
The son of a bitch was determined to follow the directions of Rita, taking time to open me up with his fingers and then forcing his cock into me until I had taken every inch of it. The pain was bad, it had been a long time since Mr. Hudson, but they seemed to like the way I moaned and fought it.
The final scene they shot was of Randi straddling my back, his cock hanging over my ass as they filmed a cream pie being sure to see that my new tattoo was fully in the frame.
After that I was allowed to collapse in a corner while they checked the video and made sure they had everything they wanted. The stinging from the tattoos was not so bad, but the pain from the marks left by the cane was bad. And now my ass was hurting, stretched and wet with Randi's cum. I felt totally demoralized and humiliated - and scared. When the video was finished I told to get up and Bernie steered me back to the corridor and into a small shower room. I was allowed to shower off. The hot water felt good against my skin. When I had dried off Bernie steered me back to the room where the tattoos were done. I was exhausted and was hoping it was all finally over. I was wrong. There was another girl in there, a butch with tattoos and piercings in her nose, eyebrows and lips. I was soon on the table again, swabbed down with a disinfectant. She started with my nipples, by the time she was finished I had rings in both nipples, a ring completely through the head of my cock and another really thick ring through the flesh of my crotch between my balls and my ass.
I was locked in a small room and told to drink some water with a large pill. I didn't dare do anything other than what I was told by now. The door was locked and I sat in the darkness and sobbed.
An hour later the door opened, "Okay cunt, " said Bernie, "time to go home."
I was incredibly relieved. I couldn't guess what they'd do next, but just to be getting out this house was enough. Whatever they had given me made me drowsy, but it really helped with the pain. I stumbled out of the back of the house into a small fenced yard where my car was now parked. The Goth girl from the reception desk was loading bags into the trunk. Bernie put me in the back seat. He strapped the eat belt over me - I could see it had been altered - the lap strap had a lock on it.
"Slide forward and you won't have to sit on the ring in your crotch!" He grinned.
He cinched the lap belt tight and locked it. He walked around the car and got into the driver's seat. The Goth girl got in next to me.
"Hi, I'm Steph. Bernie and I are gonna take you home now..."
I collapsed back into the seat, wafting in and out of sleep despite the pain. Steph wanted me to open my legs so she check out my balls, she seem really interested in pushing my balls up inside me "You have a lot of nice soft skin in that scrotum - people pay a lot of money for little bags made out of these - great to keep tobacco or ben wa balls in - real conversation piece..."
Then she got busy whiling away the time by working on my nails. Halfway they had been neatly shaped and painted with black lacquer.
We finally drove into town and off the interstate to the hill section where my home was. The garage door opened and Bernie drove on inside. I was more alert now and noticed that lights were already on inside the house.
As Bernie got me out of the car, he cuffed my wrists behind me. He walked me up the garage stairs into the house. Randi was there. He had my laptop open on the kitchen table. Bernie sat me down at the table. Then he and Steph began working through my house, drawing curtains and blinds.
Randi had my wallet on the table. My license and credit cards were laid out along with my bank records and the brokerage records where I had the last of my dad's money. The cane was lying alongside them on the table.
"Okay, sweetie, here's what we want, all the pins, passwords, names of your broker, everything...or else..."
I was scared stiff of what they might be planning, ""No, No Randi, I'll tell you, I'll tell you, just tell me what you want, really, I want to do whatever you tell me."
Randi grinned, "Of course you do, sweetie, helping us get all this done is the most painless way through this whole process. Bernie, Steph and I are gonna help you sweetie. Behave yourself and do as you are told and before long we'll have you settled in a new job you'll come to enjoy very much. Okay?"
I nodded eagerly, "Sure, Randi, sure, whatever you say."
"You must be hungry by now right?"
"Yes sir, I really am!"
Randi grinned, looked around for some cushions and put two of them under the table, "Get under the table sweetie, you can suck my cock between giving me answers and when I cum in your mouth be sure to swallow."
I got under the table, my heart pounding again, I sat on the cushions as I watched
Randi stripped off his clothes. He sat back down and opened his legs, reaching under the table to pull my head towards his crotch. I shuffled forward as he slid forward on the seat of the chair and slide his cock into my open mouth. I started sucking.
"Okay, slowly, plenty of tongue, make it last I want to enjoy it sweetie!"
I heard him start typing on my keyboard. Every few minutes he would ask for a pin or a password or a logon name. I gave him the answers each time, then continued sucking. After thirty minutes he was finished and he reached under the table to hold the back of my head. He rolled his hips and breathed heavily, then tensed as he pulled my head forward and came in my mouth. I moaned and sucked, then swallowed. He shot off several times, then felt my throat to be sure I was swallowing.
His cock slid out of my mouth as Steph and Bernie came back into the kitchen.
"Just gave him a little something to eat!" I heard Randi say as he laughed. Bernie and Steph laughed along with him.
"So, what do we have?" Asked Randi.
"A pretty good set up. There's a basement at the back of the house behind the garage wall. Small windows we can block off, a small shower and bathroom. We can put a mattress and a heater down there and use it for as long as we need to be here. What did you come up with?"
Bernie and Steph sat down as Randi pulled his chair closer. I could see right up Steph's mini skirt to her lace thong.
"The bitch is following the usual pattern - giving us what we want. I've done all the credit cards, bank accounts and stock accounts. Still have some clean up work to do but we should be able to move right along with things. Got all the property records, titles an stuff - should be pretty easy."
"That's not all...found something else REALLY useful as well!"
Randi clicked on my keyboard and I heard my laptop slide across the table towards Bernie.
"Holy shit! Look at that! What a dish - and look, that's taken here in the bedroom so he didn't get those off the Internet."
My stomach churned. Had he found my Elena folder?
"Check this out!" As Randi spoke I heard myself grunting and Elena gasping and then shouting, "Oooh Yess, fuck me Steve fuck me...." He had found the secret video I had shot of Elena and I the last time were fucking in my bed!
Bernie, Steph and Randi were laughing. When they stopped, Randi said, "Jeez - this gets better and better!"
Bernie got up from the table, "Okay, that's something else we need to get handled tonight. Let's get to work."
"You call the medic?" Randi asked.
"Yeah, we're all set for tomorrow. Make sure you get any calls done you need to have made."
"Right, thinking about that - there's one we need to make tonight now but let's get the basement set up first."
I was taking this while sitting under the table. My ass was starting to hurt again. The slashes from the cane were really painful, but then, everything was hurting as well. Randi pulled on his pants and shoes and left with Bernie.
Steph looked at me under table, "Stay there and co-operate and I'll get you something more for the pain okay."
She rummaged inside the big canvass bag. A few minutes later my legs were spread wide apart as my ankles were chained to the legs on the long side of the kitchen table. She put a waist chain on my and attached my wrists to it with cuffs. Then she put a ball gag on me. That done she went into my office and starting working through the files and drawers that Randi hadn't already ransacked. I could hear muffled noise around the house and then down in the basement. I was hurting, scared and sick to my stomach. At least, from what Randi had said, they had something in mind for me to do - which meant that I wasn't going to be robbed and killed. The more I thought about the more sense it made. Why would they go through all the tattooing and piercing stuff if they were going to bury me somewhere! At least there was some kind of ray of hope there; just what was it they wanted? What was this "new job" Randi was referring to? Why would I enjoy it so much?