Danny and Todd
As soon as we entered our usual breakfast haunt, we knew they were red-hot targets. A discreet nod to my business partner saw him immediately turn and leave. James knew the routine; apparently, he had an urgent call. Phone to his ear, he wandered back to the car park and casually made his way towards the two bikes beside the diner.
Deed done, he returned. We ate and waited.
They arrived at our booth fifteen minutes later, still in their leathers, helmets in hand. Fuck! They were even hotter up close — about twenty-two to twenty-five years old, fresh-faced and built well enough to show through their protective gear.
The dark-haired one did the talking.
“You guys from Phantom Tires?”
“Who’s asking?” I said, putting my coffee down.
“I’m Danny. This is Todd. My bike’s got a flat. Can you guys fix it?”
“Not here,” I said. “We can load it up and fix it at the shop.”
“Cool, thanks, man.”
“Push it over to the truck. We’ll be there in five. You can ride with us.”
Satisfied that they had solved their major dilemma, they departed. We discussed the finer points of our unfolding plan, finished breakfast, and stepped out into the crisp morning air.
It wasn’t surprising that they had sought us out. The yellow ‘Phantom Tires’-emblazoned truck sat near the car park entrance. It was hard to miss and, as luck would have it, it was exactly what they needed. They simply went back inside and looked for our uniforms. They found the three of us wrist-deep in hash browns.
We do tire retail and repairs. Not very glamorous, we admit, but for our own business the pay is better than good, and it’s a tidy front.
On the side, we do extortion. It’s usually more complicated, mostly more profitable, and always more fun.
The breakfast encounter I described was how we roped in our two latest bunnies. We tag them rabbits for reasons lost in history. From memory, it’s nothing more complex than a nickname that stuck.
Danny and Todd were trim, super-hot, muscled bikers. Prime rabbits.
*
In the car park, after the bike was strapped down, Todd declared he had to get to work and went on his way. We climbed in and headed for the shop through the heavy morning peak.
“Danny, I’m Ryan,” I said as I offered my hand in the back seat of the SUV.
“Thanks for all this,” came the reply.
I held my overly firm grip, locked my eyes on his, and started.
What took place over the next twelve minutes was the result of combining a Master’s in Psychology, a genuine interest in the subject matter, and a natural gift for verbal delivery. Before we had gone three blocks, I had Danny thoroughly engaged. I spent the rest of the journey continually reinforcing my influence over the young biker.
When we arrived at the shop, the guys started work on removing the nail James had embedded in the bike’s front tire. Danny and I made our way quietly to the customer waiting room. When he was seated comfortably, I really went to town. Layer by layer, I drilled deep into his psyche.
Professionally trained and super smooth, I worked my way down to the mental level of basic life functions. Over the next hour, I established the foundation for future interactions and left a set of triggers allowing immediate re-entry into the process.
He was a good subject, but to date, I had never come across anyone I couldn’t influence. Some simply took longer than others.
*
When Danny woke alone in the customer lounge, Ryan had been gone for ten minutes, he was comfortable and relaxed. He knew he’d be called when the repair was done, but apparently, he had dozed off. He had zero memory of his verbal engagement with the likeable tire shop owner.
He was surprised that in his current surrounds he found himself horny. He pushed it to the back of his mind but the more he did, the hornier he became. Did he have time for a quick sneaky tug? He found himself hard and getting harder. Fuck! He needed a wank!
He’d risk it.
With tight jeans down around his knees and his black tee shirt held above his sculptured abs, he frantically worked his larger than average meat. His public vulnerability intensified the need for release, as his balls bounced under his fist driven onslaught. When he blew he exploded over his hairless stomach, he’d done it! In absolute relief, it was only then he glanced around the room and directly into the ceiling mounted CCTV camera. His panic and a tee shirt quickly pulled down over his cum, ended a perfect recording.
As Ryan noisily made his way to the lounge Danny quickly redressed. Stopped outside the glass door and finishing a fake but loud phone call, the boss waved the young biker out to the register and on his way.
*
The following weekend, Danny, with Todd in tow, found himself back at the shop. He was sure his bike had developed a front-end vibration and wanted it looked at. I asked him to wheel his machine out back and sent Todd to take a seat in the lounge.
The moment I had Danny alone and back under instruction, I had him sit in the office and write down everything he could about himself and Todd. There was nothing wrong with his bike; I simply wanted them both on-site so we could move our plan forward.
With Danny secured, I returned to the lounge. Over the next hour and ten minutes, I worked on Todd and achieved the same depth of instructional influence as I had with his best mate. These guys weren’t push-over subjects, but the mental pathways I established were solid. There wouldn’t be any future problems.
Todd woke from his little nap and in almost a repeat of Danny’s performance, found himself strangely horny. He nervously took matters into his own hands and achieved a tension busting outcome.
After our new students departed, we reviewed the high-definition footage. By the time we clicked off the screen, all three of us were intensely focused on their situation. I could barely wait to see how things would develop.
Ancient History
When Phantom Tires was offered to us seven years ago, we were employed by the business. The boss was a great guy, but he was seeking retirement and floated the idea of a buyout.
Back then, James and Gary worked every day; I was the part-time lackey, clocking thirty hours a week. With half a university semester to go, I had planned to enter counselling practice, but I put my career plans on hold.
The deal relied on all three of us to pull it off. Our lowly backgrounds meant we had to beg and borrow everything, just to get the down payment. Financially, it was the toughest thing any of us had ever done; we lived with zero cash in our pockets for years. Mentally, we couldn’t have made it without each other. It was simultaneously frustrating and empowering.
Over time, the tide turned and our working capital account grew. In the beginning, we had no idea what to do with the surplus. It was as if we had a monthly accounting error.
I smile when I reflect on the simplicity of those early days, but I’m never going back. We’ve been debt-free for three years and, with innocence gone, are keenly focused on growing the less legitimate division of the business.
I should mention that my business partners and I had been close from the very first month I started in the workshop. Eight years later, and now thirty years old, we remained buffed, lean, and body-focused. The heavy six-day-a-week workload kept us trim, but our personal lives had changed significantly.
Despite the tax-declared commercial success of legitimate Phantom, the three of us retained the traits of our rough upbringings. Our dirt-poor origins and naturally dominant personalities meant that if the opportunity came to relieve someone of their cash, we took it. If we could gain ongoing control, all the better.
For us, extortion was highly profitable. With our two new bikers ‘on board’, we now held sway over fifteen bunnies: seven paired teams and one standalone labour unit.
When we reviewed Danny’s handwritten notes, we found that they were both first-year apprentice welders at the same place, Morgates, the city’s largest engineering works. Their annual salaries came in at $38,000, and their only debts were for their bikes. Both still lived with their parents. It was a good start.
They were straight, single, and managed to have relationships occasionally. Both considered their current situation less than ideal. They had known each other since grade school and had been best mates since junior high. As far as Danny knew, neither had done anything outside his understanding of his own sexuality.
“Good catches,” I commented as I reviewed the six pages of scrawl.
“How were they to put under?” Gary asked.
“Straightforward. Todd showed a little resistance at the start. I used a ‘loop’, and he effectively put himself into a deep sleep.”
The guys had seen it all before and, by now, knew most of the technical terms. They never got involved with that side of the operation, but it meant that nowadays I could talk about ‘Loop Technique’ without raising an eyebrow.
In the beginning, they had been in awe of my skill. Back then, I occasionally used it as a party trick, usually with great hilarity. It wasn’t until James suggested we could leverage it for financial gain that we started thinking differently.
Despite some initial ethical concerns, I warmed to the concept.
Over the last three years, we had kept our eyes open for opportunities, and today we managed the bunnies as a business. As it stood, each of us looked after two teams apiece. I also took care of the new guys and the standalone unit. Todd and Danny would probably move to Gary at the end of the year, but in the meantime, they were my responsibility.
*
Gary made the ‘reel-in’ phone call to Danny on the Thursday morning, four days after their weekend ‘vibration’ visit. As he put the receiver down, he confirmed that we could expect to see them both after close.
As was typical with the bunnies, they were hostile.
The truth was, I had the ability to simply influence them to do what we wanted, but it was a lazy way to go. It was certainly less fun and, on top of that, troublesome because it required continually reinforcing instructions.
It was more effective to use their own fear of the situation to our advantage. The bunnies believed they had made a poor decision, and as opportunists, these ‘Phantom’ bastards took advantage of it. They were trapped and never thought to question how they had ended up in that situation.
When our bikies arrived, it was clear they had come directly from work. Their worn, grubby high-visibility overalls marked them as tradesmen welders. They stormed into the office demanding to know what the problem was.
I simply gestured towards the chairs without uttering a word.
Todd exploded, saying we had better start talking or he would “do” us. I just pointed to the chairs and slowly turned towards the 40-inch screen.
The TV came to life.
“We uploaded both these clips this morning,” I said flatly.
The picture quality was clear enough to remove any doubt. They were pumping their cocks to Wankville.
It was incredibly uncomfortable for them, but despite their protests, we continued until they had seen enough. In the end, they were pale and, mercifully, quiet.
“We currently have access restricted to just us five. Here are the access details if you want to confirm it.”
I pressed a slip of paper across the desk. Danny grabbed it.
“What do you want?” he snapped. He was quick.
“A lot,” I said. “And often.”
“To start with, here are two salary diversion forms. Sign here, and you sign here,” I directed towards Todd.
“Take them to your pay office tomorrow when you arrive at work,” said James, making sure to be involved. “From next week, fifty percent of your wage goes to our accounts.”
“Fucken half!” Danny exploded. “No fucken way! You guys can get fucked!”
“We’re not doing it! You bastards!” screamed Todd, on the verge of a meltdown.
“No drama. I’ll just unlock the clips now, will I?” I asked, my hands resting on the keyboard and my expression deadly serious.
No one moved or uttered a word.
I started to type.
“Wait!” said Danny urgently.
His quickness of thought was again on display.
“Fucken half! Why so much?”
“That’s just the start,” I added casually. “Now, do I unlock these or not?”
“No,” said Danny quietly, suddenly resigned.
“No what?” I snapped immediately.
I needed to establish the power structure. More silence. He who spoke next, lost.
“No, sir,” he laboured.
“What about you?” I said, turning to Todd. “Are you seeing the pay office first thing in the morning?”
“No, sir,” he responded through gritted teeth. “And yes, sir, I’ll go to the office.”
“Good,” chipped in Gary. “We’ll expect to see email confirmation by ten.”
“Okay, that’s sorted,” I said. “As for the rest, we’ll see you both here on Sunday morning at nine. Make sure you have a decent breakfast. You’ve got work to do.”
“What? It’s not enough you’re taking half our pay. You want us here on Sunday to work?” snapped Todd.
“Good,” I said quickly. “We’re clear then. Don’t be late. Nine on the dot. What you’re wearing will be fine.”
I paused. They were stunned silent.
“Time you were gone,” I added as I stood.
Gary held the door open.
Three minutes later, they roared recklessly out the drive.
The next morning at nine forty, the salary redirection emails arrived.
We were on our way.
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