The Lost Boys Emporium

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence and rape which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

I came around very slowly.  I was confused, groggy.  There was a light hanging down from the ceiling and it seemed to move around and change shape as I tried to focus on it.  For a few minutes I didn’t know where I was.  

Hell, for a few minutes I didn’t know who I was, let alone where!

As time passed my eyesight became less blurry, but it didn’t stop the waves of nausea from sweeping over me every so often. I tried to move my arms but found I couldn’t and I couldn’t work out why. My legs didn’t seem to be able to move either. My head was buzzing, but gradually I was waking. It was just taking way longer than usual.

Suddenly I remembered what had happened to me. It just came back to be in a flash.

Master Johns had taken me to a doctor. Garcia, he had called him. They had placed a tube down my throat. I didn’t like that. It made me gag and feel sick. It allowed them to place a device inside me, attached to me on the inside. A little radio tracker.

They took away my nice new clothes, made me strip naked in front of them. Master Johns had thrown a bucket of cold, stinking, filthy water over me. Then a bucket of clean water that had rinsed off the worst of the mess, but left me dirty and smelly. He had given me some grotty, stained old clothes. Nothing fit properly. Then the doctor had chopped into my hair with a pair of scissors. I remember they had both taken some steps back and nodded. “You’ll pass” Master Johns had said.

Great, I had thought. I was a street urchin again. It was far easier to turn me back into my old persona than it had taken to domesticate me. I wondered what Max would say, seeing me like this again after all the work he’d put in to making me look decent. Maybe I was destined to look like this. I felt down about it. I wondered if there was any going back. I was worried, but I tried hard not to show it. I remembered thinking about Mitch and that had made my chest feel weird.

We had driven around for a while, making sure we hadn’t got a tail. Then I was set loose on the streets. I made my way to the docklands. I knew the area. This is where I grew up. A few days of Emporium luxury hadn’t knocked years of living here out of my head. I had looked around, looked at the filth and the poverty and I found I hated it. I hated it before, of course, but when you live as part of it you just kind get on with it, you’re numb to it. Now, having escaped once into real luxury and then having been thrust back into the heart of this stinking shit hole, I really hated it. And I resented it, too. I resented what it had taken away from me. I resented my drunken whore of a mother who’d got me here, too. I hadn’t thought about her in a long time. It made me feel kind of empty.

I had decided to make my way back to the area where Master Connor had picked me up. I guessed it would be as good a place to start as any. I realised that I’d picked up a tail almost immediately. I had worked hard to avoid them, but not so much that they lost me.

I remembered rounding a corner into an alleyway. I remember there were already people there, like they were waiting for me. I remember that something sharp had pierced my neck and then everything seemed to be sped up like an old movie. Men had moved quickly. They’d moved me, out of sight and off the streets. They had wrapped me in foil blankets and taped my mouth shut. They had wrapped tape all around me so that I could barely move. I remember being shoved into the trunk of a car and being driven around. I think I was in that trunk for a long time, but I wasn’t entirely coherent by then. Had they given me something to put me out?

I had a vague recollection of the trunk opening and a man, maybe two men, carrying me inside a building.

And now I was here.

I heard a rustle of paper near to me. It sounded loud in my ears. I was conscious enough now to be able to see almost completely clearly and the buzzing in my head had subsided just enough so that I realised I had been drugged.

“Wakey wakey” came a man’s voice. It was a thin sound, nasal, like whoever was talking was doing it out of his nose. I rolled my head to one side. There was a lone man, a small thin man, sitting on a steel chair reading a newspaper.

I realised the walls were all covered in shiny silver tin foil. The ceiling too. There was a single lightbulb hanging down on an electric flex giving off an orange glow. I tried to move again and by now I was coherent enough to realise I was tied down. I was spread eagle on a large metal table and I guessed my wrists and ankles were tied to the table legs.

The man stood and placed his newspaper on the chair where he had been sitting. He had a starched white shirt with a cheap, stained neck tie and suit pants. He was short and thin, with dark oiled hair and a thin moustache.

He placed a hand flat on my chest. It was warm and soft, like he hadn’t done a hard day’s work in his life. I realised I was shirtless. I couldn’t tell if I was naked. I gulped. I guess I had been caught, so where the fuck was Master Johns?

The man’s hand caressed my chest and dropped lower to my stomach. He groped me down there, confirming to me that I was naked. He cupped my scrotum and then he touched my thigh. Suddenly he grabbed a handful of my flesh and squeezed hard, making me cry out in pain.

“Such a pretty little thing” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “You’ll fetch a lot. Young and pretty one’s always do. Blonde hair gets a lot of money, but black hair brings in even more. Rarity value, I guess.”

He ran his hand back up to my chest and he rubbed at my nipple with a single finger.

“I don’t get it myself. I’d keep you around until I was bored with you, which might take a while as I’m creative between the sheets.” He said, still whispering. “But I guess some people just want an explosion of sensation, you know?”

I whimpered a little. This guy scared me. There was something about him that was oily and unpleasant, but every part of me screamed that he was dangerous too. I could tell. He’d done some bad things in his time.

“They just want to literally fuck someone to death, I guess.” He continued. “Let out all their excesses in one long, drawn out, violent orgasm.” He paused and pinched my nipple. I cried out again and he chuckled. “But first we need to get that little radio out of you. And then we need to know what you know. You’ll have to wait for your buyer to whisk you away for a romantic evening of being gangbanged and butchered.”

He licked the side of my face all the way up to my eye. I felt his tongue, hot and wet, lick my eyeball. I felt sick.

The man called out. “Get the doctor in here!” He shouted. “He’s awake.”

The next twenty minutes felt like hours. It was horrible. Big strong men came and they held every part of my body still while a dirty little man fed a flexible thing down my throat. He had a little video monitor where he could see down inside me. He found the little radio tracker that Master Johns had made his doctor stitch to my insides. He used a grabber and ripped it out and brought it back up and out of my mouth. It hurt deep inside where the stitch tore, and I can’t describe what it felt like as the thing was pulled roughly out of my throat.

I felt violated. I coughed up bile and blood and spat it to one side. A little trickle of metallic-tasting blood was dribbling down my chin. The men laughed and filed out of the room.

He oily man studied the little device before dropping it to the floor and squashing it with his heel. “Nothing special” he surmised. He brought a gloved hand to my mouth. “Say ah for me” he said. I opened my mouth a little way and he stuck two fingers inside, sliding them slowly along my tongue to the back of my throat. I gagged but he didn’t pull back, in fact he dug a little deeper. I vomited. I hadn’t eaten, so it was just bile and mucus and a little bit of blood. I could feel it running over my neck and pooling on the table behind my head. I could smell that acid smell.

“Good” he said, withdrawing his fingers form my mouth. “I needed to see how much you were bleeding. Not much. You’ll live long enough, that’s for sure. Whether you like it or not.” He leaned over me and smiled. “You’re no virgin, so maybe I’ll have you before you are collected. If we’re careful we could have a little fun together…..”

A voice from the doorway made the man jump and step back. It was an older, deeper, gravely voice. “Stop teasing him Grigor” it said.

Footsteps came toward me and a man’s face peered down over me. The man was bald and scarred across his head and one eye was closed. It looked as though it was stitched shut. He had a weathered, lined face and white-grey stubble. He looked weathered, like he’d been left outside for too long. And if the other guy looked dangerous, this man had jeopardy oozing from his pores.

“Now boy” he said, and I caught an accent of some kind. “I need to know what you know.” He brought his face closer to mine and he chuckled. It made me go cold with fear. “This can go one of two ways, my pretty young thing. You either tell me everything, or I do things to you so that you tell me everything anyway. Do you believe that I know ways of making a beautiful specimen like you sing to me like a pretty little bird?”

I nodded. I did believe him. There was no doubt.

He laughed softly himself, his breath in my nostrils. It smelled of cigars and heavy liquor. My eyes were wide with fear.

“Good boy, good boy” he said. “Now, tell Papachka everything…..”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Two runners opened the double doors wide and Doctor Garcia pushed the boy into the boardroom. Jonno turned from where he had been staring out of the window into the middle distance. He caught his breath.

The boy was in a wheelchair. There was a saline drip hanging from a hook, with a plastic tube running down to a cannula in the back of the boy’s hand. The boy himself looked awful. His face was puffy and bruised and one eye was practically swollen shut. His shoulder was swollen too, clear even at this distance. His arm was strapped across his chest.

“Is he…..?” Jonno started.

“No, but he’ll live” Garcia replied. The doctor was sulking. He had wanted to take the boy to the local hospital, but Jonno had denied him. “This is Michael. He likes to be called Mikey, otherwise known as the Shadow of the Streets” Garcia grinned.

Jonno nodded. He felt bad at needing the boy and had he known the boy was in such bad shape he might have gone to him instead of dragging him down here. He looked the boy over again. If ever he needed a reminder of why they had to succeed, why failure was not an option, this was it. Jonno was sick and tired, sick to his very bones, of assholes doing this kind of thing to you guys and kids out there. He felt his muscles contract as anger threatened to overwhelm him.

Keep it in, he told himself. Save it for when you need it.

“Mikey…. I need your help, son” he said.

Mikey looked up at Jonno. He wasn’t sure about these people, but he figured they had helped him and he owed something in return. That was how it worked, right? Besides, that Connor guy had been good to him. He always paid more than he needed to and he had looked out for him even when there was no paying work. And he’d been one of only a handful of men who hadn’t tried to get him alone, or touch him. That counted for a hell of a lot to the Shadow.

“I’m not your son” he replied, not much more than a mumble. He jaw ached. It was bruised from being smacked about. He paused while Muscles figured out what to say and then added. “But yeah…. I guess I’ll help if I can.”

Jonno nodded. “Good.” He said simply. It seemed best to ignore the attitude. Jonno knew that he’d have plenty of attitude himself if he was sat in a wheelchair in a stranger’s home, strapped up and bruised from head to toe for no reason. “I’m Master Johns. Call me Jonno. That’s Jenks. This other guy is Hunter. They work for me. Okay?”

Mikey looked around at these guys. Jenks and Hunter were military, for sure. He’d seen the type plenty of times. Hunter in particular looked dangerous. He had that casual air of someone who knew he could respond no matter what went down. He focused back in on Jonno. A big guy in every sense, used to being the boss and getting his own way. He looked pissed off. More even than the military guys, he looked like he could handle himself. The Shadow had seen a few guys like him out there. Not many. This wasn’t just brawn, like hired muscle. The guy was muscle with a brain. The most dangerous kind. There was something about his eyes, too. He’d seen stuff. Done stuff. It was all there to read if you knew what you were looking for.

Mikey nodded, which made his head swim.

“You good?” Said Jonno, who had cocked his head to one side as he watched the youngster.

“I’m always good, old man” Mikey came back. He wasn’t, but you never let the cracks show. Not even if you were sitting in a god damn wheelchair and you looked like you’d gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson.

Jonno chuckled. “Tough guy, huh?” He muttered just loud enough for them all to hear. “Let me guess…..? You already figured these two for ex-military? Yeah? And you think I’m probably more dangerous than both of them combined….? But you are gonna help because you know it’s a favour for a favour, or your honour ain’t worth shit?”

Mikey was taken aback. Who was this guy?

“Doc, get him something for his head. He’s no use to me if he passes out.” Jonno said softly. He was going to treat this kid like he wanted to be treated. He’d find it easier to help this way. Garcia hurried off.

Jonno came around to the other side of the table, grabbed a chair, and sat so that he was eye to eye with Mikey. “Listen, kid” he said. The boy was about to complain at being called ‘kid’ but Jonno waved him off. “I don’t mean anything by it, okay? Doc Garcia is going to get you something to take the edge off that bad head of yours. It’ll keep you able to focus until we’re done, then you can rest up.” Something in the boy’s eyes seemed grateful, but he kept his mouth shut. “Okay…. So you figure I’m dangerous. You’re right. I am. I work with Connor, the guy who has been paying you for information. We don’t know whether he’s alive or not, but I need to find out. So, yeah, I’m goddam dangerous, but only to whoever has him. Whoever did that to you. You’re safe here and that’s on my honour.”

Mikey took stock. This guy knew stuff. Street stuff. He could read people too. Mikey got a real sense honesty from him and he was good at reading that in people. He had to be. It was death, or maybe worse, if you got that wrong where he came from.

He went to nod, remembered that wasn’t a great idea and instead said “Okay.”

Garcia rushed back. He injected something into the plastic tube going into the boy’s hand and then he had the boy take a pill with a glass of water. “That’s going to make you feel pretty good for an hour or so. You’ll be very tired when it wears off and you’ll need to rest, to sleep, or in your condition you’ll just pass out.” He said. Jonno, you got maybe an hour.”

Jonno nodded. “Kid, I have maps here of a few blocks down by the old docks. We’re pretty confident that the guys we’re looking for are holed up down there. We know they have men on the street and lookouts, but we are pretty sure they don’t know we have them boxed in.”

“So what do you need me for?” Mikey said. He was already beginning to feel the drug working its way through his system. His head already felt about a hundred times better and he was grateful for that, but he wanted to get on with this. He wanted to know what this guy wanted from him.

“I don’t have anyone here who knows the lay of the land down there. We know our maps are out of date. What we don’t know is…..”

Mikey held up his good arm, the saline line trailing down beneath it. He cut across Jonno. “You want to know what alleys are blocked off? Where new routes have been opened up? And I guess you want to know where they will have posted lookouts, if they know their shit?”

Jonno grinned. “Smart kid. Yeah, that’s exactly what I want.”

Mikey smiled despite himself. He really wanted to keep a passive look on his face, but the drug, perhaps, and this guy’s attitude…. Well, they were screwing all that up for him.

“Can you stand?” Jonno asked.

“Yeah, I think” Mikey said. “If I go slow…..”

Jonno helped him up, holding his arm and offering himself up to be leaned on. “How old are you, kid?” He asked.

“Younger and fitter than you, old man” came the swift response. It was like a knee-jerk reaction these days. He wondered if the big guy would find that rude and he was surprised to find that he hoped he didn’t.

Jonno chuckled again. “Younger maybe….. but fitter? Not today, I think. Okay….. tell me another time maybe.” He help the boy to the board table where he propped himself up using his good hand to steady himself. He was already less wobbly on his feet, but everyone in the room knew that was a temporary fix. The boy needed time to heal.

Garcia stood next to the boy, ready to grab him in case he got dizzy or something. Jonno rolled out a massive sheet of paper showing intricate plans. It didn’t take Mikey long to get the hang of what he was looking at. They must have been original drawings of the place. He tilted his head and studied the drawing for a moment.

“That’s the sea, right?” He pointed. Jonno nodded. “And that’s main road out of the docklands, right here nearest me?” Jonno nodded again.

“Okay, in that case I got my bearings.”

Jonno smiled. The boy had done that remarkably quickly.

They spent almost an hour making annotations to the map. Where alleyways had been blocked, they marked it. Where passageways had been opened up between buildings, they marked it. They marked makeshift bridges between fire escapes. They marked blocked sewage outlets, drain covers, holes in the ground leading down to old tunnels and lots more besides.

By the time the hour was up, the boy was flagging. Jonno had been impressed. This kid’s knowledge of the terrain was something to behold, but his ability to put that information across in a way they could all understand showed an intelligence that was wasted out there on the street.

Garcia started to get the boy back into the wheelchair. His head was starting to swim again which was frustrating for him. It was making him unstable even standing at the table. He hated feeling like this. He really just wanted to cry, but he couldn’t do that in front of these people. He couldn’t show weakness like that.

Garcia pulled the chair back so that he could turn and return the boy to the infirmary where he could rest. Jonno got a sudden idea and called after them.

“Hey, one more thing.” He said. Garcia looked like he was about to protest, but he thought better of it.

“What would you do?” Jonno asked.

Mikey looked up. Interesting question, he thought. “What would I do about what?” He asked.

“If you were them, where would you hide out? They have several boys with them. Maybe Connor. And they need a base big enough for several men. And….”

Mikey interrupted. “And a place where they won’t attract too much attention when they’re coming and going?” He offered. “But that has more than one route out in case some big tough guy like you comes along?”

Jonno grinned. “When we’re done with this business, and when you’re in better shape, I might have a job for you here” he said.

The boy shrugged. Don’t get too attached, he thought. Don’t let them draw you in. He closed his eyes and he felt dizzy.

“You okay….” Jonn asked, concerned. The boy had gone pale, almost green.

“Yeah….yeah.” he said, opening his eyes and trying to focus on Jonno. “Just feeling a bit rough again, I guess.”

Jonno was about to wave Garcia away. He didn’t have the heart to put this by under any more strain. He’d been helpful enough. He sighed and just as he was about to tell them to go, the boy spoke again.

“There’s an old fish processing place. Has a market too. It’s right on the dock. I’d go there. It’s run down and not in use and it’s been completely abandoned since the flooding. Everything around there is empty. It has a good sized basement with these big old freezers. Maybe they’d be good as like prison cells or something? It’s also got a loading bay which is screened by a wing of the building and offices over four floors above. They used to be rented out, but no-one’s been there in years. It’s one of the places where we marked a bridge from the roof to the next building, running over the alleyway.”

Jonno turned and studied the map. He could see where the boy meant. He looked it over, looked at the surrounding area. Yeah, the kid was right. Something about it just felt right.

“Thanks.” He said, turning back to the boy. “Whether I find Connor or not, you’ve been very helpful and I owe you.”

Without thinking, Mikey said “I hope you do find him. He’s a decent guy. I don’t know many of them.” And he shrugged.

Garcia wheeled him away. As they passed through the doors, Mikey had a sudden realisation and called back over his shoulder. “If they’re watching the place, it’s from up top.” He called. “They can have the run of rooftops from that fish place, so don’t go that way. Get to it from the old underground railroad. No-one goes down there because it’s dangerous and it’ll be flooded, but it’s passable. I’ve done it. There’s a bit where you’ll need to hold your breath for a minute and swim, but I’ve done it. If you go that way, there’s a pipe big enough for a person to climb up. It’s drainage for the basement. All those old places have it. You might have to breath in, big guy, but it’s big enough. You’ll come out right in their basement. They’ll never see you coming.”

Jonno grinned. Smart godamn kid!

“Thank you. I see why they call you the Shadow” he said, throwing out a little ego booster for the boy.

Mikey smiled a little. He wanted to fire back a sarcastic remark but he was all out of energy and it was taking all the strength he had left to stop himself from passing out. Garcia wheeled him away, leaving Jonno and his men behind.

Jonno turned to Hunter. “What do you think?”

“Checks out. He’s a smart kid.” Hunter replied. Hunter was ex special forces, Arina’s head of security. He might not know the area, but he had plenty of experience in similar cities.

“Let’s assume he’s right, and I figure he probably is.” Hunter continued. “It makes sense that this crew is using runways high above the city, the places where boys like him run around out of sight. That’s how they got ahead of us. Stands to reason.” He rubbed his chin, thinking. “Also stands to reason that we might be able to get up into the basement of a fish processing unit from underneath. It’ll be an open drain, I guess. I’ll bet any money you like it’s in a central place. When it was active, they’d wash the floors and rinse soap and fish guts down the plug hole.”

Jonno nodded. He wasn’t taking that bet. He could already picture the place. As Hunter had said, it all stood to reason.

“You guys know what to do.” He said.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I cried out in pain.

Grigor laughed like a maniac. He seemed to enjoy inflicting suffering. I didn’t understand though; I had told them everything!

The man who called himself Papachka had asked me question after question after question. I answered truthfully. I had nothing to hide and I told him so. These people already knew about the tracker, so there was no point in me trying to keep anything secret. I told them I was supposed to get caught, supposed to lead Master Johns and his team to this new hideout, but it had all gone wrong.

Papachka wanted to know how much “they” knew about his operation, whether they had heard the name Papachka, whether they knew where they were located. I didn’t know the answers to any of those things. I wasn’t exactly well informed. I just went along with Master Johns plan so that I could stay with the Emporium. I told them all this. I begged them to leave me alone, but they seemed intent on ensuring I was being honest.

They kept coming back to whether anyone had heard the name Papachka. I told them I had never heard it before. I told them I had never heard anyone say it back at the Emporium. That didn’t seem to be enough, but I had nothing else I could say.

Grigor kept hurting me. He would slap my face hard, or push my stomach as I lay on the table. Papachka would tell him off, but then he’d fire loads of questions at me. It was confusing. Then Grigor would hurt me again. It was like the pain got worse every time and I couldn’t work out why. I asked, but they hurt me again for asking.

After being interrogated for hours while I lay on the steel table, I was untied. They took me to the room next door which had what looked like a medieval torture device standing inside. There was a steel folding chair too, but no other furniture. They placed me into the contraption, stocks for my hands and head that kept me bent over a bench and shackles for my legs that kept them spread. I didn’t put up much of a fight. I wanted them to see that I was being honest. Maybe I should have struggled more.

To begin with Papachka had taken the chair and sat himself down in front of me. Close to me. The other man, Grigor, had gone behind me. Papachka asked all the same questions again and when my answers were the same he grew impatient. He told me that if I didn’t offer up a little more information they would have to use “less savoury methods”.

I shouted at them in frustration. I told them, again, that I didn’t have any information, that I had been honest with them. I was in the process of telling them that I had nothing to gain from lying to them when I felt Grigor’s hand on my bottom. He caressed me, which stopped me talking. I tried to move myself out of his reach but I was trapped.

“Please” I had said, but Papachka just started asking all the same questions all over again. While Papachka kept me focussed on him, Grigor started to touch my anus. I was sure he was going to rape me. My heart was beating in my chest and my head was spinning.

For a long time Grigor just moved his finger around, circling my hole and occasionally touching me right in the centre. It was distracting and I already had a headache from whatever drugs they had given me. I couldn’t focus.

Then Grigor moved his hand away, but my relief was short-lived. He returned quickly, pushing a single gloved finger, lubed with some substance, into my anus. It felt warm almost immediately, like a tingling heat that spread out rapidly. As he pushed the entire length of his finger inside me, the heat became uncomfortable.

“That hurts” I said.

Grigor laughed softly to himself. “Yes. It does. It will” He said quietly. He continued to finger me slowly and almost gently, but the heat was now quite painful and I was fidgeting and twitching in an effort to stop it. I began to sweat and my insides felt like they were on fire. It was a horrible sensation, but suddenly it began to subside until all I could feel was warmth. Warmth and Grigor’s finger lodged inside me.

“It’s not pleasant, is it?” Papachka asked. A new questions for a change. My eyes were tearing up and I whimpered out a “no” to him.

“The effect doesn’t last long, but it gets worse with every application. Why not tell me what I need to know, and then we’ll leave you be?” He said. He sounded so reasonable.

“I promise!” I said to him. “I promise, I don’t know any more!” I was desperate now. I really needed them to see that. But they just wouldn’t !

As I started to speak Grigor’s finger was removed and before I had even finished the sentence it was back with more of the heating agent smeared along it. It felt like a hot probe, like my hole had closed up and he was forcing it open again. I literally screamed as the length of his digit slid relentlessly inside me. It was a totally involuntary scream. A scream of pure pain.

I was sweating, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Nothing I did made it feel any better. It was fire, and it hurt, and by the time Grigor’s finger was removed for a second time I was hyperventilating and crying.

Papachka put his hand on my face. “There, there, my boy” he said soothingly. “I know it isn’t nice. That Grigor is a nasty piece of work. Tell Papachka now. Who at the Emporium knows that Papachka is here in the city?”

My face screwed up and I bawled my eyes out. I didn’t have another answer. I couldn’t remember ever hearing the name but he seemed so persistent. “I’m sorry” I said through tears, my nose running. But they didn’t care.

The third time Grigor inserted his finger I thought I would pass out from from pain. I was certain that my flesh must be charred and broken by now. It certainly felt like it. I wasn’t crying any longer. I didn’t have the capacity. I screamed and screamed until I wondered who was screaming. Just as the edges of my vision started to close in, the searing, spiteful pain wore away and only heat remained. I gasped for breath and I gagged, the sensations and screaming making me ill. I had nothing to bring up, so I was left to dry heave.

Grigor removed his finger and I whimpered. Something passed between the two men. Grigor left the room while Papachka stroked my hair and used a finger to move my fringe off my forehead. It was matted to my head with sweat. “There there there.” He whispered. “It will all be over soon enough. Then I’ll tell your new owner that you are ready to be collected. I’m afraid you may not like what your master has planned for you, but at least when he has finished there will be no more. You won’t have to be part of all this any longer. You’d like that, I think? To be truly free.”

I started to cry again, just softly and to myself. I wanted them to let me go. I didn’t want to be given to a new master. I didn’t want to die. “Let me…. Let me stay here” I sobbed. “I…. I will make you happy….. let me….please….” I was in a state and by that point I’d have said anything, promised anything. I just didn’t want to repeat the pain. No more pain, please!

Papachka touched my cheek again. “If only Papachka could do that my boy” he said. “But Papachka is not wealthy as he once was. He needs to raise funds so that his empire can be rebuilt, you see? It is already agreed. No, I am sorry boy. You must be sent away. It is for the best. You new master will have you and Papachka will raise funds. It is the way.”

I squeezed my eyes closed. I had nothing left. I tried so hard to remember if anything Master Johns had told me might help. I tried to remember Mitch’s face. But I couldn’t. My mind was on a single track: pain, followed by death. And soon.

Grigor came back into the room. I opened my eyes as he walked behind me. “I cannot use the salve again. You’ll pass out. So I have something else just so we can be sure. I am sorry, young man, it is a little crude. But we always find this it effective.”

I frowned as Papachka smiled at me. “Now, boy. Tell Papachka again. Who has spoken my name?”

I opened my mouth but I just couldn’t find any words. It was as if my brain was telling me not to repeat what I had already said ten of times before. I was remembering the pain I had already experienced and I just wanted to be left alone.

As I processed these thoughts, Grigor played with my scrotum. Suddenly a cold metallic object was pressed to my skin and there was a click, and a sharp pain shot up my spine. I cried out again.

“There, there, my boy” Papachka said. “No real harm done. It’s all okay, you see? That nasty man Grigor has put a staple through your scrotum. It hurts, I think?”

I tried to nod but in the stocks I could hardly move. I couldn’t speak. Grigor took hold of one of my balls and pressed the cold metallic object to it. I took a sharp intake of breath.

“Please……” I whispered. The pain was horrible in a sensitive area, but if he put a sample through my testicle I understood all too clearly that if would hurt. Badly.

“I will make the bad man stop….” Began Papachka. “But the boy must tell me what he knows” there was frustration and anger in his voice at the end.

Pressure started to build on my scrotum, on my testicle. I squeezed my eyes shut, the anticipation of that point when the staple gun would fire almost too much for me to bear. Suddenly I was speaking. Words tumbled out. There was no thought behind them, it was just a reaction, an attempt to survive. I couldn’t fight, and flight was not an option, so I lied.

“Master Johns. He knows. And his team. They all know….” I said. I mentioned every name I knew and I think I even made a few up. It was verbal diarrhoea that I couldn’t stop.

The cold object was removed and Papachka sat back in his chair and laughed by deep within his belly.

“Good….” He said and lightly tapped my cheek. He spoke to Grigor. “The boy knows nothing. Take him down and put him with the others. Have the client make arrangements to collect him. With or without a tracker that man will want his boy back. All the while he’s here, he’s a risk.”

“Yes, Papachka, of course….” Grigor said.

“And the other client? He’s offered a lot to come here a film his movie. We should…….”

“Don’t!” Snapped Papachka. “Don’t tell me what we should do. There is no ‘we’. Only ‘I’. I have already had to come here before I was ready because you kept screwing up. Don’t try my patience Grigor, or I’ll find someone to buy you. Remember, your Papachka will always find a buyer, you see?”

“Yes, Papachka” Grigor said.

“But we need the money, so tell the other client he can come. It’s a risk, but a risk we must take I think. He can have any of the boys, just not this dark haired beauty.”

“Yes, Papachka” Grigor repeated.

I took a deep, ragged breath and passed out.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

When I came around I was in a small room with three other boys. We were all naked, all shackled to hooks on the wall by one wrist each. I was sitting propped up against the wall, but my chain wasn’t very long so my arm was trailing above me and had gone numb.

The room stank of piss. It was evident that the boys weren’t allowed out to use the bathroom, so they had no choice but to go where they stood.

I looked around. The other boys were around my age, maybe younger. It was hard to tell. Two were trying hard to look anywhere but at me. The third, the youngest looking, was staring at me with big, round eyes that looked constantly on the verge of tears.

My head was killing me. The pain behind my eyes made me remember my session with Papachka and Grigor. I reached back expecting to find a real mess, but instead I found that my ass was very much in one piece. Whatever they had used appeared not to have left any lasting damage. On the other hand, I realised that my scrotum still had a staple through it. It was sore and it didn’t take long for me to realise that I wouldn’t be able to remove it. It was a big thing, too, probably make for packing crates or something.

The other boy muttered something at me. His voice was quiet and and I didn’t catch what he said.

“What was that?” I asked, looking directly at him.

“Are.....you okay?” He asked.

I smiled. “Yeah, I’ll live.” I said. The fact that I was alive and almost undamaged had given me a new hope. Maybe I could get myself out of this shit. Maybe.

“Are you?” I asked.

The boy shook his head and some big tears rolled down his cheeks. He sniffed and recovered some degree of poise.

“Have you been here long?” I asked. I needed to know what I was dealing with. If the Emporium people couldn’t get here soon, I would need to think on my feet.

The boy nodded. “Don’t know how long. Maybe two or three weeks?” He said. He seemed very unsure. Suddenly he burst into tears again. “They......they raped me!” He sobbed.

One of the other boys shuffled. “Shut up” he hissed.

I glared at him. “Who the fuck are you to tell him to shut up?” I said with venom.

“If he pisses off the guards by crying again, we’ll all get raped. Again. Give you something to cry for, is what they’ll say!” The boy looked imposingly at me. He wasn’t mad, just trying to stay under the radar. In case I hadn’t grasped the problem he added, “They’re not exactly gentle.”

He glared back at me, gave me as good as he got from me. I looked at all three of them, one after another. I realised they had been snatched, kidnapped, and were strung up here as sex slaves or whores for hire. This wasn’t the Emporium though. There were no flashy suites here. No one was asking permission.

“How many of them?” I asked.

“Too many” the other boy said. His voice was deeper. Now that he’d spoken and turned toward me, I saw that he was probably older than me. Not by much, but a little.

“Too many for what?”

“Too many for whatever you’re thinking. And in case it escaped your notice, you have an iron ring around your wrist, and you’re chained to the fucking wall.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“I’ve been here longest. Months now. They moved me twice. I don’t know how many times they made me..... have sex. You’re better off just getting on with it. They’ll kill you before long. Sooner rather than later, if you’re lucky.” He said. He was completely despondent. I guess I couldn’t blame him. But I’d had my breakdown. I’d already been treated like shit and I wasn’t going to go out without a fight.

“So how many different men have you seen?” I asked. Someone was gonna tell me, or I was going to cause trouble.

The youngest guy spoke. “I think five. But there’s usually only one man out there.” He said. “There are a couple of rooms like this. Some other boys. I don’t know how many.”

There was a loud thud on the door like someone had hit it with a hammer. “Shut up in there!” Came a voice. “Or I’ll shut you up.”

The voice was quite muffled. I looked around. I realised this was an old cold storage room. Not for meat though. No hooks. There were shelves built into the wall, so it must have been fish. I began to think that maybe we were down by the dock, maybe in one of the abandoned fish processing units. I couldn’t think of anywhere else that had cold storage rooms like these.

I waited a few minutes. There was no more activity from outside. I whispered at the older guy. “We can’t give up.” He just looked at me like I’d gone crazy, then turned away. I noticed he had red whip marks all up his back. The closer I looked, the more I realised he’d really been through it.

I spent a long time examining the shackle, the chain, the loop in the wall where the chain was attached. It was all good, solid stuff. The only way I was going to get free was by chewing my hand off, and even then I’d have to get out of this room somehow. After a few hours my attitude turned despondent. I realised there was a chance of making a run for it when they came to grab me, but it was a long shot. Very long.

I dozed off. I was still feeling under the influence of something, otherwise I didn’t know how I could ever sleep like this, sitting up, my arm dangling overhead. It was a fitful sleep.

I woke suddenly as the door opened. A big guy propped it open and he showed some other guy into the cell.

“Which one?” He asked.

The man looked around. He was dressed in a business suit that looked in parts too big, and in others too small. It was frayed around the cuffs of the pant legs. His shoes were scuffed. He was trying to look like some high flying executive but he didn’t have the money to pull it off. Everything else about this guy was average. Height, build, brown hair, brown eyes.

He looked at me. “Him” he said.

“No. Can’t. He’s sold. Any of the others.”

“Him then” he said, pointing at the older boy.

“You can have ten minutes. I’ll come back.” The big guy said. He looked around at us all, then left us with the average man.

The man stepped forward into the room. He reached down and pulled the other boy up by his arm. “No.....” the boy said softly, plaintively.

“Yes” the man replied. He reached back and slammed the boy in the face with his fist. The boy had no time to react. The first hit him square on and his head bounced off the wall behind him. He slumped down again.

“Up you get son” he said. He pulled the boy up again and gave him a backhander and then a hard punch to the guts. He grabbed the boy by his hair and spat in his face.

“You ready to take my cock yet, you little fag?” He said. His voice was cold. I’d never heard such a lack of care or compassion in a voice before now. Not even in my darkest days in the street. Maybe it was my own situation, I didn’t know, but I was suddenly afraid.

The other two had curled up. This was a regular occurrence for them. I guess they couldn’t stop it, so they just played dead and tuned the fuck out. Classic better you than me attitude. You saw that on the streets quite a lot.

The man slapped the boy across the face and I almost felt the sting from here. My eyes were wide. My mouth was hanging open. I desperately wanted to say something but I was gripped by fear. I had already been kidnapped and tortured today. It was okay if I just stayed here, where I was, and kept quiet....Right?

The boy stood upright like he might be getting ready to fight back. He receiveed a punch to his gut for that. Now bent double, the man grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head into the wall. The boy made a snivelling noise. It was like he’d given up now, telling the man he was ready.

The man grabbed the boy’s waist and turned him around. He fumbled to take his dick from his suit pants. He grabbed the boy’s hair again and smashed his head into the wall one more time. And again. Then he grabbed the boys hips and pushed his cock against his rear.

Oh god, I thought. Not here, not in front of us all….. sure not?

The man thrust forward and fucked into the boy. There was no warm up, if you didn’t count the gratuitous violence, he just punched his dick inside the boy and began to thrust away like a dog on heat.

The boy groaned. He had no fight left, not that he’d had mucho start with. His head was bleeding from being bashed into the wall.

I was transported back to the days when one of my mom’s boyfriend’s would get drunk and beat me. Just punch and kick me for no reason. I remembered that night when the latest guy had stripped me naked while he took out his anger on me. That smell of cheap booze and sweat. The feeling I got deep in the pit of my belly when he told me not to get dressed, that he was going for some cigarettes and then he’d be back, that he was going to fuck me. The feeling of urgency as I fled into the night. I hadn’t thought about that in a very long time.

I put my hand over my eyes trying to screen out the fresh hell right in front of me. The man’s ass thrusting away. At this close distance I could hear everything. The boy’s breath being forced from his lungs and his panting as he was fucked senseless. I could hear the sounds of fucking too, the squelching noise, the slap-slap-slap of the man’s flesh on the boy. I could hear the man, his breathing, the insults that came out under his breath. “That’s right you fucking fag. Take my dick. All the way you cunt.” And on it went.

I was paralysed with fear and dread. I found myself holding my breath until, only a few minutes in, the man grunted several times and shot his load. He remained there for a minute, his balls pumping his cum into the boy. Then he pulled out. He stepped to one side and wiped his cock on the boy’s bare flesh. He reached down and grabbed a handful of the boy’s scrotum.

“You enjoy that, you fag?” He asked. “Maybe we can squeeze some cum out of you.” He tightened his grip and squashed the boy’s balls in his hand until he screamed in pain. The man let go and raised his knee into the boy’s gut. He kicked a few times for good measure as the boy was on the ground, his head down, his ass pointed toward me. I could see his gaping hole and the mess leaking from within.

The guard returned. He looked around and laughed. “It was good?” He asked.

“It was good enough. Little cunt could have been tighter, but I guess he’s been well used.”

The guard looked at me, saw the expresson of hate on my face. He grinned from ear to ear. “You’re going to wish you could trade places with this cunt” he said as the door closed on us.

I cried then. All street bravado was gone from me. I didn’t believe in god, but I prayed too. I’d had enough. Please, please let the Emporium people get here before they take me.

None of us spoke. We all dozed fitfully, kept ourselves to ourselves as much as we could in this old, disused chiller. After several hours the older boy came around. He got himself into a more comfortable position and rubbed his eyes and his sore head.

“You.....okay?” I asked. I realise it was a stupid question but I was amazed I could find words at all

He looked at me. There was a darkness in his eyes. The sign of someone who’d truly given up. Who’d rather die than do this any more.

He nodded. There was no truth in it, but it was easier than any other response.

“There are people looking for me” I said. I said it as much for me as for him. I desperately needed hope and he did too.

“I’ll believe it when I see it” he said. I was surprised he spoke at all.

“When they come, the guy I work for..... he’ll tear those men into little pieces!” I said, my own words spurring me on again, providing me with some rope to climb out of my pit of despair.

He shrugged.

There was a long silence before I spoke again. “Does..... that happen..... often?” I asked. I could barely get the words out. But I needed to know.

“No, not often, I guess.” He said. “Before it was twice a day, maybe more. It’s hard to know when there’s no light. It’s impossible to tell what time it is in here. Since we moved they seem to be keeping things locked down, so maybe only three or four times a week now.”

“Each?” I asked, incredulous.

“Each” he said.

I looked around at the others. “We’ll get out of here. We will!” I said with some defiance.

No-one answered.

Another period of time passed. It was impossible to know how long but it felt like hours. There were sounds at the door and finally it opened.

Papachka walked in. He had a casual air about him, like this was all perfectly normal. Another day at the office. I looked past the old bastard to a younger man standing behind him. He seemed wealthy, dressed in expensive clothing, his hair neatly trimmed, his beard and moustache too.

“How are my babies?” Papachka asked with a warm smile. It made my skin itch. He walked to the older boy and lifted his chin, turned his head to look at the fresh bruising. “You have been busy for Papachka. Good boy. You enjoy the work, isn’t that so?”

The boy nodded. He obviously knew not to fuck with this guy.

Papachka turned his attention to me. “Not long for you to wait my baby” he said. “Your new master is on his way. It’s a long journey. Then we get you all packaged up and....” he made a whooshing sound and moved his hand through the air like an airplane “we get you shipped out of here.”

I made no sound. I didn’t nod. I couldn’t do anything.

Papachka chuckled. He turned to the wealthy man who stood just outside the room. “My friend, my friend.....come, come” he said, ushering the man inside. “Here we have four of my boys. This one here is recently used, if you like that? This one I cannot sell I’m afraid. He is destined for his own movie, much like the one you will make here I think. And these two, they are quite fresh. Maybe one of them will suit your taste better?”

The man looked around imperiously. He glanced at the older boy and me, and then the two other boys shuffling on the floor. “This one.” He said.

It was the younger boy, the boy who spoke to me when I first got here. He looked utterly terrified.

“No, take me. I want it!” The older boy said, surprising me.

The man crouched down near the boy. “I came here today to do unspeakable things on camera. I am making a wonderful movie. You think I want a boy who is desperate for his release? No. I want a boy who’ll cling on to life even when he knows death is coming. That’s real sport. You would spoil my movie.” He slapped the boy lightly across the face.

Papachka had the other boy stand. The man stood before him. He examined every detail of the boy’s face and torso with his eyes then he reach out and touch him. He worked like a doctor, examining his face, ears, neck, shoulders. His touch wasn’t erotic, it was purely an assessment of fitness.

He touched the boy’s cock and balls, turning them this way and that before continuing down his legs. After he had inspected then boy’s feet as you might inspect a horse’s hooves he instructed him to turn and face the wall. The wealthy client ran his hands on the boy’s legs. He probed between the boy’s buttocks, and examined his back.

“He has been taken before, I assume?”

Papachka chuckled quietly. “My friend, if he were a virgin specimen the price would be ten times what it is.”

The man raised an eyebrow. He knew that. I could tell.

“Boy!” He said. The boy turned to face the man. “Before you came here, were you a virgin?”

“Y....yes” he said.

“How many times have you serviced a man since you came here here?”

The boy seemed confused. He stammered, eventually getting out “I.....I d.....don’t understand”.

The man seemed to be on the verge of getting frustrated. I felt I had to say something. To let this kid know he wasn’t alone. I had already remained silent while a boy was raped in front of me. My conscience wouldn’t allow me to do that again.

“He means” I said “how many time have these bastards raped you?”

I thought I’d get a kick for that, at least, but Papachka laughed it off.

“Rape....pah!” He said with a snort. “Papachka merely helps his boys fulfill their destiny. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

He turned to look at me with a sick smile.

The boy’s bottom lip was wobbling and I felt he was on the verge of crying. “I..... I don’t know” he said.

Papachka intervened. “Not so many times” he persuaded. “I am sure that his little cunt will be tight and warm for you. Besides, it’s not just the cunt you want, eh?” He said with a wink. “This boy will perform for you. So young. So full of vitality. It will be pleasing to take that away, yes? I am certain he will cling to this world while you take all that you want from him. That’s why god put him here for you. Yes. This is the one for you! Trust Papachka!”

The man seemed uncertain, but he nodded curtly. “Boy, you will come with me. You will serve my needs today. Rest assured, while my needs will be difficult to fulfill, you should know that after today you will never be used to serve ever again.”

The boy wasn’t following. I could see that from here. He suddenly looked brighter. “You’ll let me go?” He asked, and there was hope in that small voice.

The man smiled. “When we have concluded our time together, you will serve no further purpose. Your role will have been fulfilled. You will pass from this life in the knowledge that you satisfied a man of higher station than you.”

The boy processed that and suddenly realised what he meant. His face screwed up and through tears he said “but I don’t want to die!”

The man looked at him with a complete lack of anything approaching sympathy. “That is irrelevant.”

The man clapped his hands and two men appeared. “Bring him to the room Papachka showed us earlier. Have him placed in the stocks for me.”

The men unfastened the boy’s cuffs and they dragged him from the room. He was crying, screaming almost, his legs incapable of holding his weight. His feet dragged along the hard concrete floor as he cried and begged and shouted for help. No-one paid him any attention. He was obviously taken to a nearby room as I could still hear him, more distant now, more faintly, but I could hear him.

I had an acid taste in my mouth. Would that be me soon? Dragged away to be used like a disposable sex toy? What would that poor, poor boy endure before he could finally endure no more?

Papachka stood over me. He reached down and unzipped the fly of his pants and he took his wrinkled old cock out in front of me. “You know, my baby boy” he said. “Dark hair has always been my weakness. The darker the better. And look at you, with your jet black hair. It’s so rare, honestly. And your pretty face with the high cheek bones. And that body, so slim and young and tender. I think I can maybe afford some time to have you before you are whisked away from me. Take me in your mouth now. Look after your Papachka.”

I looked up. I was disgusted. More so even than in that alley back when this all began, but I could see I had no choice. I moved slowly away from the wall where I had been sitting. I got on my knees, my head level with his flaccid dick. I opened my mouth and closed my eyes and I took him between my lips.

“That’s right, my good boy. My dark haired boy” he said, his cock growing in my mouth as I sucked.”

I sucked. I didn’t want to do it, but there was nowhere to run, no way out.

“Good boy. Good baby boy!” Papachka oozed. “Perhaps if you make your Papachka come in your mouth there will be no need to have you, yes? Good baby. That’s it. Love your Papachka like a good boy should.”

I was torn between locking my jaw and trying bite his cock off and working harder than I had ever worked on making a guy come in my mouth. I figured that if I bit him, I would end up in a world of pain and I’d still end up sold to someone who wanted to snuff me out. The other option, revolted as I was by it, was the better: have this guy come in my mouth so that this didn’t go any further.

I was getting into my routine, really going for it. Papachka was thrusting gently at me, obviously loving my tongue action around his cock head. Suddenly there was a loud, blood curdling scream from somewhere else in this place. I figured it was the boy who’d been taken. Then another scream and some shouting. I stopping sucking, horrified.

Papachka made a tutting sound. “Silly boy” he said in a mildly admonishing tone. “You see, I was so close. A little more sucky-sucky and I would have finished, and then you could have had a sleep with my taste on your lips. Now you broke the moment. I’ll have to come another way.”

He reached under my chin with a single finger and pulled my head up. Our eyes met and he grinned broadly. “Stand now” he said. I complied, getting to my feet and standing in front of this hateful creature.

“Good” he said. “I like it when boys follow instruction.” He ran the back of his fingers over my face, caressing down my cheek, and then my neck, and then my chest. He reversed his hand and touched my penis, pulling my foreskin back and very gently cupping and touching my scrotum. I wasn’t in the least bit turned on. I was scared, appalled at what was going on just down the corridor, and I found this man repulsive.

“No sign of an erection from my baby boy?” He asked. He seemed mildly disappointed by that. “No matter. We worry more about your Papachka’s cock, of course. My baby boy is here to serve, isn’t that right?”

I didn’t know if that was a rhetorical question, but I nodded anyway just in case. No point in pissing this monster off for the sake of a polite nod.

He continued to fondle me. His hands were gentle, cool to the touch, but still I felt nothing but fear. I wondered what he would want next and I didn’t have long to wait to find out.

Papachka took the chain that attached my shackle to a hoop in the wall. He lifted the slack and wound it once around my neck, his eyes constantly locked to mine. “Turn and face the wall now.” He instructed. I swallowed hard. Here it came, I thought. I turned slowly, shuffling, delaying the inevitable. The chain wrapped another half-turn around my neck.

“Such a good baby boy.” He cooed. “Now place your forehead on the wall and your palms, too” he said. I complied, my forehead now touching the stone of wall and my heads placed on either side. The chain remained around my neck, uncomfortable and I wished he would remove it.

“Now baby boy” he said. “There is a simple rule. If you move a hand, or your head comes away from that wall, I will take this chain and choke you until you pass out. It’s very unpleasant. Do you understand the rule, baby boy?”

I almost nodded, almost took my head off the wall to do so, but I stopped myself at the very last second. “Yes” I said, hardly loud enough to hear.

Papachka started low. He ran his hand up my leg, up my inner thigh, and continued to caress me where he left off before I turned around. “Excellent” he said, almost a whisper. “I wish now that I had kept you for my own pleasure. But the deal is done and you have made me a very handsome sum. A handsome sum for a handsome little boy” he said.

His hands were both on my flesh now. He touched my thighs and buttocks, his fingers tracing a path to his objective between my butt cheeks.

“Push you bottom back now, baby” he said in a low voice that was dripping with sexual energy. “But don’t remove those hands…. I would hate to spoil the game already.”

I rotated my hips and pushed my bottom out. I slid down the wall by a couple of inches, always careful to keep in contact with the wall.

Papachka made an drawn out “mmmmmm” sound. He gripped the chain with one hand, removing the slack so that it was tight to my throat. I gulped. He placed his other hand loosely on my scrotum and traced a line up until he was touching my anus. I heard him spit. I felt the saliva land on the small of my back and run down between my buttocks.

Papachka very gently worked the mess around my hole with his thumb. Suddenly he was pushing and his thumb disappeared inside me up to the first knuckle. Then he pushed some more, pushing hard, his whole thumb now wriggling inside me.

There was another scream for down the hall. It was cut off and followed by a series of shorter screams. It gave me goosebumps to think of what must be going on in there while I stood here ready to be raped.

Papachke chuckled as he withdrew his thumb and inserted a finger, then two, then three. I gasped. He paid no attention to whether it hurt, he just shoved his digits into me and stretched and played. And worryingly, the more me played and fingered me, the tighter he pulled on the chain. It was already getting hard to breath and to swallow.

There was more shouting. More screaming. I felt sick to my stomach.

Papachka slowly and quite gently removed his fingers. He toyed with my hole and then he said “Now baby boy, now you get to feel all of me. Try not to pass out until I have filled you with my come, be a good baby for your Papachka, eh?”

With one hand he directed his cock to my hole. With the other he pulled back on the chain. I made an involuntary noise as the air was forced from my throat. “Please….” I managed to croak out, but Papachka was not listening. He was rubbing his hard cock around my anus and I could sense that he was seconds from thrusting into me.

There were hurried footsteps and a rushed knock on the open door. Grigor was there. He interrupted. “Papachka, we have received a message. You’ll want to see this now, I think!”

Papachka released his grip on the chain and I gasped and coughed, still trying desperately to maintain contact with the wall. “Grigor, you are tiresome” he said. “I do not like to be interrupted……”

Grigor thrust out his hand and shook the piece of paper he was holding. “But Papachka…… it’s them! THEM!”

Papachka frowned. He turned away from me, his cock still hard and wiping precum across my naked buttock. He took the notepaper. Unfolded it. Read it, his lips moving slightly as he did. I could see him under my arm. He seemed to go pale. He balled up the paper in his fist and threw it to the ground.

“Damn you Grigor. Now I will have to move swiftly or all this will have been for nothing yet again!” He marched out of the little room and pushed past Grigor, who ran after his master like child running after his father.

He must have released the door stop, because I heard it click shut. I slumped slowly to the floor, my head and hands still touching the wall, the chain slowly falling away. I breathed a sigh of enormous relief.

I stooped down and picked up the crumpled paper and carefully flattened it out. I read the neat handwriting. “Dmitri. Meet me under the old clock tower in St. Constantine square. Midnight. Come alone. It is time we settled our differences.”

I frowned. St. Constantine square was on the border, the no-man’s land between the old docklands and the commercial district, half of which was abandoned because of the flooding. Before the city expanded the square was the main market for goods arriving by sea. Now the main market square was in the new, swanky district further north in the heart of the city. Unless something had changed very recently, the square itself would almost certainly be under twelve inches of water.

I looked at the note again. It was signed “deSanto”.

I looked around the room. The two other boys were hunched down on the floor, their heads hidden in the crooks of their arms. One boy had already been taken and they knew what was happening to him. They knew he wasn’t coming back. Then Papachka had come inside their room. Had been ready to take another of them, to choke him up against the wall while he raped to his heart’s content. They were terrified, terrified and doing all they could to make themselves as small and unnoticeable as possible. I pitied them. I pitied us all.

I slumped to a sitting position. The sounds from down the corridor were muffled now with the door closed, but every so often I could hear a scream, a cry, a shout. Each time I jumped. I was listening to boy being slowly, horrifically murdered.

An hour passed since my near-rape. I heard an odd grating noise that seemed to vibrate through the floor.

I looked up. The other boys looked up too. They heard it. They felt it. It was new to them, too.

Then, with no warning, the light went out and the whole place erupted in pandemonium. 

TO BE CONTINUED.....