The Bureau of National Defense and Government [M/M] [conclusion 5/11/23]

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KidnappedCowboy
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

Volobond wrote: 1 year ago Though a shame the prince's perfidy wasn't preemptively pondered.
Well done, my friend! Well done, indeed! :D :D :D
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Post by wataru14 »

Volobond wrote: 1 year ago Though a shame the prince's perfidy wasn't preemptively pondered.
Sonny is very quickly learning that dossiers don't always have all the answers and that he shouldn't make assumptions. But will this knowledge do him any good? Time will tell.
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Post by wataru14 »

I realize I forgot to update the story title with the last chapter! So some of you might be getting two new parts today. Otherwise, here is the latest installment.


Chapter 7 – Black Hats, White Hats

The worst thing about Chuy is that he never spoke. Men of his might and training usually didn’t waste words – they didn’t need to – but Sonny couldn’t remember a time when he had ever heard Chuy say anything at all. That made him all the more mysterious and ominous. Perhaps Carlito had heard him speak, but Sonny guessed that no other living man ever had. Sonny was actually pretty terrified as the mountainous islander approached him with the scissors, held in his hand like a dagger.

But his fears were unfounded. Chuy was not here to mutilate him, apparently just prepare him for Carlito, but Sonny wasn’t so sure that was any better. With as little passion as if he were washing the dishes, Chuy began to cut Sonny’s orange scrubs off him. The orange fabric dropped off him like the wool of a sheep being shorn. “That usually happens before a sacrifice,” Sonny thought. “Let’s hope that’s not what Carlito has in mind.” Since Sonny was not given any undergarments with his prison uniform, it was a quick process to strip him. As he was made bare, he felt the clammy leather padding of the X-frame against his back. Chuy gathered up the discarded orange scraps and stopped for a moment to look at Sonny’s caged genitals. “Heh,” he snorted, and gave them a quick flick with his thick index finger. Sonny winced. Even a light tap from Chuy was equivalent to a punch from a normal man.

Without saying another word, Chuy crossed the room towards the door and left. Sonny attempted to use his trained dexterity to slip his wrists from the manacles, but they felt like they were custom-made for him to fit his measurements. They probably were, he thought. But even if he got loose, he was in even a worse predicament that before. The prince must now be considered hostile, but still had to be extracted. Sonny didn’t know how tight his partnership was with Carlito, but that didn’t matter. He had to be removed from here before he spilled the intel and before the ransom was paid. The King and Queen of Borogravia would be quite grateful to have their money saved and themselves spared from embarrassment. But that led to another problem. He would need help for that and he had no idea where Williams and the others had been taken. He guessed they were also in this basement dungeon somewhere, but he had no idea where. And he couldn’t just leave them. Not now, knowing they were still alive. Pahn’s wife had given birth to their daughter while he was incarcerated here and believed dead. Sonny had to spring him, as well. All four of them.

Now alone, Sonny waited. And waited. And waited. Carlito was really laying in on thick. His mind wandered over to the various grizzly torture implements prominently displayed in the room. “No,” Sonny thought. “They’re just there to psych me out. Look how clean they are.” His honed agent senses noticed that there were no nicks or blemishes on anything. “They’re just for show. But still… maybe not. Maybe Carlito carefully cleans them after each use… Stop it! You’re thinking the way he wants you to think.”

Carlito came in some time later. It was impossible to tell how long. Sonny heard him before he saw him, the tramping of his leather boots against the concrete floor was unmistakable. When Carlito came into view, he was wearing tight leather pants over his combat boots, and a leather apron with no shirt underneath. His hands were covered in tight police-issue leather gloves.

“That was a stupid thing you did,” Carlito said. “You must have known that I would allow no harm to come to you. Or your friends. No one gets to break my toys but me. You would have languished a few days and then I would have had you brought to the upper wing for… one-on-one interrogation. You might have even been able to socialize with the prince. For as long as he’s here, anyway. Mommy and Daddy are being recalcitrant at the moment.” Carlito placed his hand against Sonny’s chest and felt his rapid heartbeat. “You are frightened, no? You should be. You are such a beautiful prisoner, and I hate to damage such an exquisite piece of art. But I must teach you the penalty for disobedience. Can’t let you make the other prisoners think that I am weak.” Carlito pinched Sonny’s nipples and rubbed them until they hardened. When they stood out erect, Carlito affixed a small clamp to each. The clamps were connected by a small silver chain that hung down against Sonny’s chest. They had miniscule teeth that dug into his flesh. The pain was low, but constant. It hurt, but… it felt good at the same time.

“We go back a long way,” Carlito said. It was your first mission, was it not? After you were recruited by BNDG and completed your training.” Sonny felt a subtle vibration in the room. Inaudible, at least on a conscious level, but there nonetheless. His inner ear picked it up and he felt slightly off-balance. “It was Boston. Five years ago. I remember driving with Chuy to our warehouse by the docks and seeing you there among the day laborers looking for legitimate work. Even among the crowd you caught my eye. With that watch cap and pea coat you looked like a local. Well, at least to everyone who isn’t trained in deep observation. When I asked for men to join up to unload our cargo, you put out your cigarette and came to the front of the line. I am very glad you kicked that filthy habit, by the way.”

Sonny felt a pang of shame. He remembered that mission. All the overeager rookie mistakes. After getting the job, he started asking about where the “real action” was almost immediately. No patience. No subtlety. It was no wonder he got made so fast…

---

Sonny nervously held his knit cap in his hands as he waited outside the boss’ office. He hadn’t seen the man much in the three days since he was hired as a longshoreman, but he had read the file at HQ. Carlito Reyes, lieutenant of CUFF. A major up-and-coming player in the ranks. The other workers talked about him with great reverence. Almost awe. They said he could kill a man seventeen ways with just a pen. Sonny had been asking around about what the cargo was and what they were really doing, and had gotten some good intel from the long-term dockworkers. Over the last three days he had been working hard and clean, making a big show of it in front of the suited men that oversaw the operation. He had made it very clear that he was a man of many talents and was looking for a way to put those talents to use. Looking back on it, Sonny groaned at how obvious and amateurish he was. But at the time, he thought he was doing a masterful job. And his confidence was boosted when the boss asked to see him.

A gigantic man opened the office door and pointed behind him without saying a word. Sonny had seen him hanging around the boss constantly in the rare instances where they left the office and supervised the workers. Must be a bodyguard. “If I’m going to bag this guy for BDNG and get him to base, I’ll have to get past this mountain somehow,” Sonny thought. “Being that big, he’s got to be slow. I’ll use that to my advantage when the time comes.” Sonny nodded and walked past the giant into the room. The boss was seated at the desk, drinking sherry from a wide glass.

“Have a seat,” he said in an intoxicating Argentine accent. Sonny could barely keep focused as he gazed at the man. His face was statuesque. Like a Renaissance model crossed with a telenovela leading man. His slightly unkempt hair, his stubble, his brown eyes that a man could drown in… Sonny watched his movements as he took a sip from the glass and put it down. He had the grace of a jungle cat and the poise of a king. The boss looked at him for a moment and chuckled. “You seem nervous,” he said, indicating the leather chair across the desk. “But there is no need to be. I am interested in conversing with you. And maybe, just maybe, offering you an exciting opportunity.”

Sonny sat down at the desk and stuffed his watch cap into the pocket of his coat. He ran his hands through his tangled mop of hair, suddenly feeling quite ashamed of his shabby appearance, even though it was all tailored to attract Carlito’s notice. The boss looked at a file. Sonny could see it contained his mugshots and pages of data on him. The pictures were real, but BNDG had fabricated an entire fake history to go along with them. “Sean Donovan,” Carlito said with a sultry twang in his voice. “Age 26. Recently released from prison after serving five years for… burglary, armed robbery, and kidnapping! Oh my!”

Sonny quickly replied in his affected Boston accent. “That’s not what it was,” he said. “It’s just what they charged me with. Me and my boys hit an electronics store and we tied up the employees. Even though we didn’t take ‘em anywhere, the DA called it kidnapping.”

“I am well aware of the legal gymnastics,” Carlito said dismissively. “What concerns me more is your extensive criminal past. And at such a young age.”

“I didn’t try to hide it,” Sonny said. “I was upfront about it from the beginning. Places like this hire ex-cons all the time. I didn’t think it would be a problem. Are you gonna fire me?”

Carlito laughed. “Why no, Mr. Donovan. Just the opposite!” he said, taking another sip from his glass. “You are quite observant and it is obvious that you have deduced what kind of operation this is. My employees have told me how eager you are to find ‘the real action.’” Sonny unconsciously bit his lip. “As it happens, a man with your past and your… abilities might be just what we need. But I do have some concerns. Your criminal career was prolific, but short. It seems the police got you quite easily. How did that happen?”

Sonny remembered his fake backstory and spoke. “I was set up,” he said. “One of the guys in the crew decided to go to the cops and turn on us in exchange for immunity. He told them everything. I’d probably still be doing that work if the authorities hadn’t grabbed me.” Sonny’s mind smiled at the irony of that statement.

“I see,” Carlito said, rubbing his chin. “Yes, betrayal is a bitter and painful thing. May you never experience it again.” He sat for a moment in thought. “Very well, Mr. Donovan. It seems you’ll get your wish. I am prepared to offer you a place in our organization… on the ground floor, of course… under my tutelage. But first, you must prove your abilities are not just talk and stories.”

Sonny smiled. “What do I have to do, sir?”

---

The mission was easy. Carlito had told “Sean” that a certain luxury hotel downtown was housing a certain VIP guest who had a certain ledger of important data in his room safe. “Get access to that room by any means necessary and secure that ledger. The VIP is not to be harmed, but anyone else is fair game.” Carlito had noticed Sonny’s discomfort at the thought of killing, which Sonny later realized was another tell. “You find that distasteful? Then do it nonlethally. However you like. I don’t care. Just get that book.”

Going in guns blazing would get him nowhere, so Sonny formulated a plan involving guile and subterfuge. Outfitted with the latest in BNDG technology, but with his own flair, Sonny pulled up to the rear parking lot of the hotel. 65403 Grand Avenue. He got out of the maintenance van dressed in jeans and a work shirt, tool belt, and backwards baseball cap. A fake beard and moustache covered his face. He knocked on the door and waited. The door didn’t open, but he heard a voice call out. “Who’s there? What do you want?”

“Name’s Vinny with A1 Plumbing,” Sonny said in a perfect Brooklyn accent. People always expected that tone from workmen. Better to play on people’s preconceptions. “I got a work order for the bathrooms in the convention hall.” He held the forged work order up to the peephole. After the lock was undone from the inside, the door opened and a middle-aged man with a receding hairline opened the door.

“I wasn’t notified,” he said. He was wearing work overalls that said “Fred, Facilities Manager” on the nametag. “Let me see that.”

Sonny handed him the paper. It was completely perfect, written on real hotel stationery by BNDG’s expert forgers. “Look, I don’t know nothing about that. We got called about the shitter in the convention center so they sent me out to fix it. Take as long as you want, I’m on OT anyway.”

“That is Mr. Gleason’s signature,” the man said, rubbing his chin. “I’m surprised he didn’t let me know.” The man looked past Sonny and saw the maintenance van with A1’s logo on it. “OK, Vinny, come on in. I’ll show you the way.” Fred locked the door and escorted Sonny past the break room to the service elevator. A few workers were having coffee and watching TV, but none of them gave him a second look as he passed by. He and Fred rode up one floor and came out in another maintenance tunnel. It was a short walk to the rear service entrance of the convention hall.

The grand ballroom was dark and deserted. It was mid-week, so there was no event planned. “Here we are,” Fred said. “Which bathroom was it? Men’s or women’s?”

“Both,” Sonny said. “So I may be a while.” Fred opened the door to the ladies’ room and the lights automatically came on. It was grandiose, to say the least. All faux gold fixtures and marble countertops.

But Fred still had a thoughtful look on his face. “Everything looks OK and there’s no smell,” he said. “You sure it was the convention hall? Hold on a sec. I’m going to radio the office.” Fred reached down and grabbed his walkie talkie. Sonny pretended to adjust the cuffs of his workshirt and… Fred slumped to the floor, clutching his neck. He pulled out a tiny dart as his eyes fluttered shut and the walkie hit the floor, call button unpushed. Sonny stowed his wrist launcher and rubbed his neck sympathetically.

“Sorry about that, Fred,” Sonny said. “Nothing personal. I got nothing against working guys like you, but you almost complicated my mission.” Sonny grabbed Fred by the ankles and dragged the unconscious facilities manager to one of the palatial stalls in the back of the room. Working quickly, Sonny removed Fred’s tool belt and emptied his pockets. He sat the slumbering man on the bowl and unhooked the roll of duct tape from his tool belt. “No one questions a plumber carrying this stuff,” Sonny smirked. He crossed Fred’s wrists in front of him and encircled them with the tape with deadly precision, going all the way up his wrists and completely encasing his hands in silvery mitts. The hands were, in turn, placed against Fred’s chest, just under the collarbone, and pinioned to his torso with more tape. Sonny quickly and skillfully wrapped it around Fred’s torso time and again, totally encasing the man’s entire upper body from shoulders to waist in a silvery cocoon. Part of him was worried that someone would notice the squelching sound as he worked, amplified by the echo in the bathroom, but there was no one in the convention hall to hear.

Once Fred’s upper body was immobilized, Sonny got to work taping the man’s lap and legs to the bowl. He used the entire roll to adhere the man to the porcelain seat. There was just enough left for a few revolutions around Fred’s mouth. Sonny stepped back, tossing the empty roll in the trash. “I know you can’t hear me,” he said, “But again, I’m sorry to do this to you. But, hey, you should be glad you got bushwhacked by me and not one of Carlito’s other guys.” He remembered seeing a wedding ring on Fred’s finger before his hands disappeared under the tape. “At least this way you get to go home to the Mrs. tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll radio that you’re in here once I’ve gone.”

Wasting no time, Sonny walked over to the trash can. He grabbed the lapel of his work shirt and tore straight down. The shirt, jeans, and boots all came off in one fluid motion as if they were one thin continuous garment. Which is exactly what they were. “Presto change-o!” Sonny said, crumpling the discarded garment into a ball and tossing it in the trash can. He was now clad in a waiter’s tuxedo, up until now completely hidden by the work clothes. “I have to thank the boys and girls in R&D for coming up with this ultra-thin fabric,” he said to himself. “No matter how many layers you wear, it’s completely undetectable.” He tossed his cap into the trash and grabbed some haircare products from the tool belt. Using the mirror to check his handiwork, he fixed his hair into a presentable style and peeled off the fake beard and moustache. His tool belt was concealed under the jacket of the tuxedo. A quick shine of his shoes and a pair of white gloves later, and Sonny was out the door and in the hotel.

It took some doing to dodge the wealthy guests as he made his way through the hall to the grand concourse. Their constant nagging demands for fresh towels or adjustment of their room temperature nearly made him lose his mind. “Man, these people were needy,” Sonny thought as he took a room service order from a very drunk old man and his very impatient 20-year-old companion. The girl gave him a quick wink as she pulled the old man along by his tie. “Now there’s a girl who’s going places,” Sonny said. “Not sure I would want to do what she’s going to have to in order to get there, though.” Sonny chuckled as he stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the VIP suites.

As soon as the doors, opened, Sonny knew there would be trouble. Right in front of him were two very large and very annoyed men in black suits and sunglasses. They had earpieces and he could see the imprint of pistols in their jacket pockets. “Who the hell are you?” one said.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” Sonny said in a sniveling upper-crust voice. “Wrong floor. Pardon me!” He stepped back into the elevator and closed the doors, punching the button for the floor below. “Shit!” he thought as he rode down. “I should have expected the goon squad would be there.” He got off on the floor below and made his way to the terrace. “That’s OK, I’ll just have to improvise!” Sonny slipped into the empty terrace and jammed the lock from the outside. He placed an ornate sign on the door facing in that read “Sincere apologies. Terrace temporarily out of order” and headed to a remote corner, out of the view of the hallway. “Let’s see,” he said. “One floor up and 12 rooms to the left.”

He reached under the jacket of his tuxedo and searched for the layer he wanted. A quick tug and the suit peeled off him, followed by a security guard’s uniform, a chef’s jacket, and bartender’s vest. He was now clad in a form-fitting black shirt and pants. Grabbing his tool belt, he applied some dark makeup strategically to obscure his face and covered his sandy brown hair with a black printless bandana. He applied the adhesive pads to his gloves and shoes and hopped up on the ledge of the terrace. “One, two, three!” Sonny said as he leapt up and grabbed the wall. The adhesive pads worked like a charm and he carefully ascended up the wall to the next floor. “Human Fly, away!”

This terrace was not unoccupied, so he had to be doubly careful and triply silent to avoid detection by the hotel guests lounging up here. He made his way laterally now, well out of view, passing under the curtained windows and around the air conditioning units of the hotel suites. He looked down as he reached the halfway point. “Fourteen floors up,” he thought. “Not too shabby!” Then he thought about instructor Williams and his lessons about overconfidence. “Can’t get cocky,” he thought. “Mission’s not over yet.” Inch by agonizing inch Sonny crawled under the suite windows until he reached his destination. A lesser man would have been unsure that he had arrived at the correct room, but Sonny’s professionally-honed sense of direction told him he was there. Carefully he boosted himself up to the window.

The curtains were open, but the room itself was dark. No light spilled in under the door from the room beyond, either. He tried the window and found it locked, but the glass cutters from his tool belt were sharp and, in seconds, he removed a section of the glass large enough to slip his hand in an unlock the window. With a quick push, he climbed up over the ledge and into the room.

There was sufficient ambient light from outside to allow him to see reasonably well in the darkened room. He scanned it for a moment and then his eyes fell upon the wall safe. “Bingo!” he thought. As he approached the safe, however, he got a bad feeling. This had gone off too easily. Gaining access to the hotel, moving through the building undetected, all of it. True, the security guards were an unexpected speed bump, but he began to second-guess himself. He had been on enough burglaries in his life before BNDG to know when a job was too easy. “I’m almost done,” he thought, pushing down the nagging feeling. “I’ll talk to Williams about that during the debriefing. For now, I need to get that safe.”

Sonny took out his safecracking gear and got to work. Listening. Slowly turning the dial… this part he didn’t even need special training for. He’d done enough of them to know how. Finally, he heard the click of the lock opening and felt the tension on the handle. He slowly turned it and pulled…

And at that moment, his instincts kicked in again and he sidestepped. A dart, fired from a springloaded mechanism inside the safe, whizzed past his head and embedded in the wall across. He heard the sizzling of acid leaking from the dart and dissolving the wallpaper. Just then the bathroom light clicked on and a man stepped out. It was the boss!

“Bravo,” he said in a low whisper. “You managed to detect and avoid my trap. Or you got extremely lucky. Either way, I’m impressed.”

“You set me up!” Sonny said. “There is no ledger!”

“Yes, that was a lie,” Carlito said. “A BNDG agent should be able to see through petty deceptions like that. I will have to send Agent Adamson a strongly worded letter expressing my disappointment with his sending a rookie to infiltrate my organization. I was on to you from almost the beginning, Agent DeLuca. I would say you have to be more careful in the future, but, sadly, you don’t have a future. Your career and your life will both end here.”

Carlito charged at Sonny, extending a knife from its hidden sheath at his wrist. The agent dodged and interposed the table between himself and Carlito, but it gave him no respite as his attacker slid fluidly underneath it. Sonny barely managed to dodge the blade. “We’re making too much noise,” he thought. “If those two brutes outside hear us fighting, they’ll run in here and it’s all over.” Grabbing an extendable baton from his tool belt, Sonny swiped at Carlito. But he just missed as his acrobatic foe backflipped over the table to safety.

“Oh, you want to dance, Americano?” Carlito said with a smirk. “Then I shall lead.” The two men fought like demons, but it was not a bareknuckle slugfest like Sonny was used to. It was athletic, graceful. Almost choreographed. And with a heavy air of sexual tension. Sonny knew Carlito was handsome, but there was something else about him… his voice, his smile, his attitude… that mystified him. He couldn’t look away. And he got the feeling Carlito felt similarly. But there was no time to discuss their clearly mutual attraction at the moment. After several minutes of combat, however, Carlito miscalculated and lurched the wrong way to avoid a blow from Sonny’s baton. It came down on the back of his knee, sending him sprawling to the floor. Sonny was on him in an instant.

Carlito opened his mouth to shout for backup, but Sonny clamped his hand over the Argentine’s mouth. The adhesive grip on his gloves making it impossible for the enemy agent to remove it. With one hand sealed to Carlito’s face, Sonny was now left with limited options. He needed to restrain his foe, but he couldn’t bind him with just one hand. Thinking quickly, Sonny grabbed an aerosol can from his toolbelt. “Hope this works,” he thought, and sprayed.

Out of the nozzle came a thick foam, like shaving cream, only more viscous. Sonny doused Carlito’s torso in the stuff and watched, holding his breath in expectation. As soon as the foam hit the air, it began to swell and harden. In seconds, the CUFF agent’s front torso was immobilized by the congealing foam, he hands trapped uselessly inside. Spurred on by the success of the restraint spray, Sonny caught Carlito’s legs in a scissorhold with his own and sprayed his enemy’s ankles. The foam hardened into an impenetrable shell. And that was it. Carlito was trapped. Sonny propped his prisoner up and sprayed the back of his torso, encasing him fully. He released his hand and stood up, fishing for another bandana from his tool belt.

“No need for a gag,” Carlito said, testing the firmness of his foam prison. “I’m not going anywhere. Congratulations, rookie, you won! You should buy the BDNG science team a nice fruit basket, no? But what do you plan to do now?”

“I’m taking you back to BNDG headquarters,” Sonny said. “Agent Adamson will put you away for a long time.”

“Such fanciful ideas,” Carlito smirked. “And just how are you going to do that, eh? Carry me out the window and repel down 14 floors carrying me on your back? Or maybe you’ll just tote me out the door to where my guards are waiting? I’m sure they’ll just let you drag me off under their noses.”

“Damn!” Sonny said.

“Yes, you’ve won but you’ve also lost,” Carlito said. “I would savor this victory for as long as you can. The next time we meet I will be the one standing over you.” Sonny bent down and got in Carlito’s face. He was about to say something tough. Something heroic. Something really badass. But he never got the chance. As soon as he was close enough, Carlito lurched forward and kissed him. Full-out. Sonny was completely thrown off guard. This was an evil man. An enemy agent. There was no way he was going to kiss him back, no matter how much he wanted to. But he noticed that he didn’t back away, either…

It was Carlito who broke the kiss first. “A little something for you to keep until our next meeting,” he said. “Now go. I promise I will wait before summoning the guards. Until next time, Agent DeLuca.” Sonny paused for a moment, then climbed out the window.

---

Sonny’s mind ceased its wandering when he felt the tug of the chain connecting his nipple clamps. He let out a shout as the pain snapped him back into focus. “You were woolgathering,” Carlito said. “Remembering out first battle. I remember it often, too.” Carlito rubbed Sonny’s chest, then slid his hand slowly down his captive’s body, finally coming to rest over the steel cock cage. “Such a pity to keep such a beautiful weapon sheathed like that, no? But it doesn’t have to be that way.” Sonny looked at Carlito quizzically. The vibration in the room intensified.

“Why are you working with the white hats?” Carlito purred, slowly leaning in and licking Sonny’s pecs. “That’s not who you are. I know you. The REAL you. The street criminal. You can’t escape your nature, you know. None of us can.” Sonny moaned as Carlito continued to grope and lick his body. He knew his captor was a master of seduction and denial torture, but something else was going on. Sonny felt his will getting weak.

“Is it your friends?” Carlito said. “Mike, Cole, and… what was his name? Ah yes, Craig. You two were more than friends, I know. Is it for their safety? We can protect them just as well as BNDG can…” The vibration intensified again.

“I’m not… not…” Sonny gasped. Waves of ecstasy rippled through him with each touch of Carlito’s tongue on his flesh. With each wispy stroke of his fingertips across his body. “Not… a criminal… anymore…”

“Oh yes you are,” Carlito said. “Deep down you know you are. Like Chuy. Like me. You’re one of us, mi amor. Body and soul. You are just denying your true self. You have such potential. We could help you realize it. You could be so much more. You could be a legend. You could be infamous! … You could be mine.”

“No…” Sonny feebly protested. But he only half meant it. He felt Carlito’s touch and words penetrating deep into his mind. Reaching into his innermost self and laying it bare. He began to see the wisdom in Carlito’s entreaty. And the vibration continued.

“Why not?” Sonny thought. “After all, what do I owe BDNG really? They kidnapped me, threatened my friends… Carlito never did that to me.” Then he remembered Williams and the others. “Wait, he… no… they did that to themselves. They tried to escape and to take the prince. Carlito just protected his investment. It’s what I would do…”

Carlito smiled as he saw the interplay of emotions swirling through Sonny’s face. And still he kept groping. Licking. Teasing. He reached his hand behind Sonny and began probing his ass with his finger. Sonny moaned in response.

“They don’t care about me,” Sonny thought. “Not like Carlito does. He wants to protect me. He values my skills. He values… me. What the hell am I doing working for the government? Aren’t they the real enemy? All they ever do is fuck over poor schmucks like me. I’m not a cop. I’m not an agent. That’s not who I am. I am…”

Carlito looked down and saw Sonny’s cock throbbing in its steel prison. The whole apparatus bounced and shook. Sonny let out a soulful groan and exploded inside it. Carlito smiled in triumph as Sonny came. It dripped down his leg and onto the floor. And the vibration stopped. Sonny slumped down in his chains, his body prevented from collapsing to floor by their grip alone. Carlito took out a cloth and mopped Sonny’s brow.

“Why, mi amor,” he cooed. “You're dripping with sweat.” His voice bored deep into Sonny’s very soul. He put his nose into Sonny’s armpit and took a huge sniff of his musk, “Have you made your decision? Will you abandon this BDNG nonsense and take your place with me? It’s where you belong.” He leaned in close. Sonny didn’t answer. At least not in words. Instead, he lunged forward and kissed Carlito. Madly and wetly. Carlito returned the kiss and kneaded Sonny’s hair. “You have made me very happy,” Carlito said after pulling away. “I see such great things ahead for you.” He reached down and unlocked the chastity cage, carefully removing it from Sonny’s cock and putting it on the table. “CHUY!” he called out.

In an instant, the giant had opened the door and appeared without a sound. “I am happy to report that Sonny has decided to join the winning side,” he said. Chuy’s mouth formed a small frown, but he said nothing in response. “Please take him to my room and make sure he’s comfortable. I wish to report my success to the Big Boss.” Chuy unchained Sonny from the cross and held him up. The agent didn’t have enough strength to stand on his own. “And be gentle with him. He’s had a very big day.” As Chuy picked Sonny up, Carlito crossed over to him and kissed him again. “Sleep well. When you awake I will be beside you.” Sonny passed out in Chuy’s arms and was carried out of the room.

“Sorry, Your Highness,” Carlito said with a sneer. “You will never have him. He is mine now, body and soul.”

Coming Soon – Chapter 8: The Turncoat
Last edited by wataru14 1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

Where do I begin?

Well, first, thank you again [mention]wataru14[/mention] for an update with a lot to chew on!

1. Chuy and the scissors: There's just something about a behemoth of a man cutting away the clothes of a subdued man...the tension between eroticism and helplessness can be cut with a knife (or scissors ;) ). And then the flick of Sonny's cock cage. Woof!!!

2. Sonny's first mission...so cocksure of himself that he doesn't realize he's being set up! I love how he doesn't wish to harm anyone. Poor Fred! I hope Sonny didn't forget to ring someone up to let Fred go home to his wife (Ethel, perhaps?). And I want that foam!!! And again there is such tension with Carlito kissing him and Sonny not reeling back.

3. Carlito has his way with Sonny. You are really good at describing Sonny's inner conflict. Has he left his criminal past behind??

4. The Turncoat: Are you teasing us? Is it truly Sonny who turns coat? Or might it be Carlito?

My overall review: It's a rave one, because tension is the overall theme of this update. Well done, my friend!
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Post by Guardianbound »

Continues to be exciting. How long will Sonny be under this spell? mindcontrol? And where does this vibration come from. Can it be controlled by someone other than Carlito? If Sonny or one of the other agents escapes can they use this to turn the tables? Part of me wants to see Sonny and Carlito end up together, the tension between them is so well written, but the stars arent aligned for them are they.
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Post by gag1195 »

I'm so torn! On the one hand, I want Sonny to succeed in his mission, and part of me is hoping that he is trying to pull a long-con and just pretending to be Carlito's obedient and affectionate new agent. On the other hand.... Sonny happily collared and caged at Carlito's beck and call is also a striking visual. Though it feels to early in the story for Sonny to be throwing in the towel...

I suppose we'll just have to wait and see!
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

As much as Carlito thrashed his success in his first mission, Sonny seems to be doing pretty good for himself there, only leaving a valuable captive behind in the end. Which did eventually become his downfall but who could've predicted that?

The way CCarlito finds and uses all of Sonny's insecurities was really intriguing and I'm currently on the side that his submission is not a (complete) trick. Though, that may be because I'm really digging to the dynamic between them, as unhealthy as it is.
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Post by Volobond »

gag1195 wrote: 1 year ago I'm so torn! On the one hand, I want Sonny to succeed in his mission, and part of me is hoping that he is trying to pull a long-con and just pretending to be Carlito's obedient and affectionate new agent. On the other hand.... Sonny happily collared and caged at Carlito's beck and call is also a striking visual. Though it feels to early in the story for Sonny to be throwing in the towel...
Regardless of the truth, I think it'll indeed be fun to get a few chapters of Sonny collared, caged, and compelled by that excellent resonant hypnotism! Indeed I like seeing their dynamic, dark and twisted as it is...
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Post by wataru14 »


CHAPTER 8 – The Turncoat

The late morning sun streamed through the windows as Sonny slowly awoke. The first thing he noticed was the softness of the bed beneath him. He had only been at the facility for a day or so, but he remembered how uncomfortable the cots in the cells were. Made that way purposefully, no doubt. And the night before that had been spent wrapped up like a sausage in a wooden crate. When was the last time he had slept in a real bed? It was the night before he had flown to Vegas to honeypot the prince. Seemed like a lifetime ago. BNDG paid well, of course, but not well enough to afford a bed like this. The utter luxury of it all almost made him sink back into a blissful sleep.

The second thing he noticed was that he was tied spreadeagle to the bedposts. His wrists and ankles were encircled in soft silky rope that lightly tickled his skin. The knots were done with loving care by someone who definitely knew what he was doing. The bands of the rope were level and even and it was clear that a lot of time was spent to make them aesthetically perfect as well as functional. The ropes were tethered to the ornately carved mahogany supports and Sonny could see holes and notches in the decorative posts that were put there to allow for a bound prisoner to be restrained in a variety of positions. There was ample slack for him to roll over slightly, but he could not do that at the moment. Carlito was in the bed beside him, blissfully massaging his chest and playing with his chest hair, staring dreamily at him. “Buenos dias, mi amor,” he said.

Sonny looked around and slid himself into a semi-upright seated position. Carlito moved some spare pillows behind him to support his back. The room was the most elegant suite he had even slept in. More grand than Monte Carlo or Dubai. Was that a genuine Renoir on the wall? Of course it was. Carlito picked up a silver tray laden with pastries and a coffee service for two and placed it on Sonny’s lap. “I am so glad you decided to join us,” he said as he poured two cups. “I have such things planned for us. I am sorry about the ropes, but I needed to be sure that you weren’t lying to me in the chamber. But somehow I don’t think you mind so much, no? When I saw you sleeping it was all I could do to keep my hands off you. But it wouldn’t be proper for me to take advantage of you like that. Not while you were not awake to enjoy it, anyway.”

Sonny looked around the room. He took in the splendor and finery as he sipped his coffee. An exquisitely tailored suit was laid out on the dresser for him. This was definitely the good life he had dreamed about since he was a kid. Everything he had ever wanted. And now it was in his grasp. He put his coffee down on the tray and then moved the tray back onto a nearby side table. “Well, I’m awake now,” he said coyly, pulling at his bonds and sliding back down onto the bed. Carlito smiled broadly, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

---

Their lovemaking was the culmination of several years of tension, and it did not disappoint. Afterwards, neither wanted to tear themselves away from the bed, but eventually Carlito undid the ropes that held Sonny to the bed and led him by the hand into the shower. After the two of them bathed together, Carlito helped Sonny dress. “My!” he remarked as Sonny modeled the designer suit for his enjoyment. It cost more than most families make in a year. “You look good enough to eat… again.” Sonny chuckled as he attempted to do his hair in the mirror. “It always stands up in that rascally way,” Carlito said, trying to smooth it down like a fussy mother. “It drives me mad with desire.” When Sonny was presentable, Carlito took him by the hand and led him out of the bedroom suite and into his office nearby.

Carlito took his seat behind the desk while Sonny sat across. There was a huge board with maps and charts in the corner, but Carlito turned Sonny’s attention away from that as soon as he sat down. “When can I see the prince?” Sonny asked. “I would like to make him aware of our partnership. And he and I have a lot to discuss.”

“Not yet, mi hermoso,” Carlito crooned as he booted up his computer. “He will be aware of our alliance soon enough. And ay, will he be mad! I’ll tell you why someday.” Carlito began typing. Sonny tried to catalog his keystrokes, but the Argentine’s fingers were too quick to follow. He should have known that from experience. Especially after last night. “But that brings me to a rather delicate subject. I, of course, have no doubts whatsoever about your loyalty to CUFF. Not a single one. But the higher-ups don’t know you like I do. They think you need a probation period. I said such things are unnecessary, but I am only one voice among many. So we reached a compromise. I am embarrassed to say this, but the leadership is requiring a test of your loyalty. Shameful, I know. Rather insulting to a man of your experience. But my hands are tied, as it were.”

Sonny shifted in his chair. “What kind of test?” he asked. “A mission? Retrieve some documents? Capture a hostile? They already know I can do that.”

“Not a test of your abilities, querido,” Carlito said. “Those are above question. They are concerned that you may still feel some loyalty to your former comrades. I said that was foolish, but they are not convinced. So they are demanding a demonstration of your commitment. Four demonstrations, actually.” Carlito turned the screen of his computer to face Sonny. The screen showed a four-way split of security camera footage. Footage of inside four separate holding cells. Each with a single occupant: Williams, Malik, Rhett, and Pahn.

“So what do I have to do?” Sonny said, a devious smile forming on his lips.

---

Rhett paced in his cell for the thousandth time that day. After Carlito and Chuy foiled the rescue/escape attempt, the four BNDG agents were forced to their knees and held at gunpoint in the hall. They were there when Sonny emerged with the prince, and they were there when the prince zapped Sonny into unconsciousness. But they were restrained with hinged handcuffs behind their backs and dragged down to the sub-basement before they could see what happened after that. Where Sonny was now, he had no idea. The four of them were dragged, cursing and struggling, down to the high-security detention wing and shoved into isolated cells. Their captors didn’t even bother to remove their cuffs before slamming the cell doors shut. And that’s how he had been for the last 24 hours. There had been a plate of cold mush slid in through a slot in the door earlier this morning, but the only way he could have eaten it with his hands restrained like they were would have been to grovel on his knees and slurp it up off the floor.

“I’m not THAT hungry,” Rhett thought. But by tomorrow maybe he would feel otherwise. He also noticed that no one came to remove the tray. That wasn’t a good sign. He had tried to tap a BNDG code signal against the wall, hoping that one of his friends was in the next cell and they could communicate back. But that wasn’t the case. Apparently Carlito had anticipated that and had them all separated. There was no window in this cell and the walls were one solid sheet of concrete, covered with a solid layer of steel. No seams to exploit, no vents to open and climb through. The solitude was driving him mad.

When he heard approaching footsteps, he dove onto the cot and pretended to sleep. If they opened the cell door and saw him dozing, he could use that moment of unbalance to try and escape. Or try to take out his jailer… somehow. It was a fool’s plan, but the only one he had. He slid onto the cold steel cot and kept his muscles tensed, ready for quick action. He waited until the door opened and… stared in disbelief.

Sonny was there! Dressed in his prison scrubs and with one hinge of a handcuff hanging from his wrist. Rhett jumped up and ran to him. “You escaped!” he whispered. “We didn’t know what happened to you. We thought they… never mind. The others are somewhere in this wing. Quick use your key and get these cuffs off me.” Rhett turned his back to Sonny and lifted his wrists, waiting for release.

“Wow,” Sonny said with a sardonic chuckle. “You really are a dumb swamp rat.”

Rhett stood puzzled for a second and began to turn back. “Now hold on a minute there…” But he stopped in mid sentence as he felt Sonny’s hand grab his neck in just the right place and pinch a main nerve in his neck. Fire erupted through his body and he collapsed to the floor in a heap. His arms and legs went completely numb. He looked up in disbelief and horror as Sonny loomed over him.

“One of BNDG’s secret nerve pinch techniques,” Sonny gloated. “One of your favorites, I hear. Quite painful and renders the target unable to move for some time.”

“You traitorous sonnafa…” Rhett sputtered.

“Now now,” Sonny said. “If I know that pinch, then I also know the ones they teach you after that. Especially the one that shuts down the nerve that controls the lungs. Do you want to suffocate right here on the floor? I don’t think you do. So you’d better change that tone to one more respectful, Gumbo.” Rhett just groaned in response as Sonny grabbed his ankle and dragged him across the floor of the cell and out into the hall. His muscles wouldn’t obey him as he was slid on his back towards some unknown chamber, his cuffed hands pressed uselessly underneath him. All he could see were the lights on the ceiling and the traitor’s broad back as he was dragged along.

They entered a sterile white room that was quite a bit larger than the cell Rhett was confined in. Sonny hefted him up with little effort and deposited him on his back onto some kind of metal table. One of four side-by-side. They almost resembled operating tables. Rhett groaned at the implications. While his prisoner was still paralyzed, Sonny made quick work in removing Rhett’s cuffs. Rhett just laid there prone, unable to move, as Sonny began to strip him of his prison uniform. He looked over Rhett’s physique as he worked. The young Cajun was charming and quick, but wiry. Not built for power. He was a talker and a seducer, not a fighter. An excellent thief and spy, but not one to follow through when things got violent. The two had bonded briefly in training over their shared criminal pasts, but that familiarity would do Rhett no good in his current situation.

He was powerless to resist as Sonny produced a wide metal yoke with five ring holes from under the table. From end to end it was about six feet long. Rhett feebly tied to struggle and shouted horrible curses in French at Sonny as his neck was placed in the central ring and secured firmly inside. But his motor functions were still shut down by Sonny’s neck pinch and he couldn’t put up any sort of fight. Two rings flanked the central one, each with a distance of about 18 inches between them. Rhett’s wrists were brought up and placed in the second and fourth rings. He felt the bite of the cold steel against his flesh as the cuffs were locked, trapping his hands inside.

“You have a reputation for being almost superhumanly agile,” Sonny smirked. “That you can escape from almost anything. So we’ve got to keep you off-balance.” He took Rhett’s right ankle in his hands and bent his leg back. Up towards his head and then past it. Rhett groaned in pain as his leg was stretched nearly to its limit and his ankle was placed in the first ring. He felt the cramping set in as the ring was locked, trapping his leg on the same plane as his wrists and head. He could barely stand the strain when his left leg was brought into the fifth ring and similarly locked. He was folded completely in half and his leg muscles were on fire.

Sonny stepped back and admired his handiwork. Bent into the agonizing position he was, Rhett’s ass was fully exposed and on display, stretched wide from the contortion of his legs. His caged cock floating right above. Sonny seemed satisfied. “Just one more thing,” he said. He bent down and brought up chains from under the table. One side of each was secured to the table frame, while the other had a clasp on the end. Sonny wound them over Rhett and the table, going around several times before clasping them off to the table frame. The chains pressed down on Rhett’s thighs and waist, further inflaming his discomfort and securing him helplessly to the table. He shouted in frustration, but Sonny took advantage of his open mouth and shoved a spongy rubber ball inside his maw. Several layers of tape were then applied, trapping the ball inside Rhett’s mouth.

Rhett squirmed and screamed, feeling his muscle control slowly returning. Carlito watched happily from the doorway as Sonny turned around to face him. “Very devious, mi hermoso,” he said. “The stress on his legs must be unbearable.” Sonny gave Carlito a quick kiss, making sure Rhett saw it.

“That’s the idea,” Sonny said. “But let’s not get too hasty. There are three more tables.”

---

Malik had remained calm during his isolation, but he was always calm. He sat in meditation on the floor of his cell, clearing his mind and trying to keep a focus. Things had turned dire and if they were going to get out of this situation, he needed to be ready. Working with explosives is a nerve-wracking job, so Malik had turned to Zen as a means of dealing with the pressure. Calm detachment was the only thing he had found that could help him cope with the unbearable tension of his work. He switched his mind into computation mode. Analytical thinking had been part of his BNDG training since the beginning, strengthening and honing his natural mental strength. A demolitions expert had to be able to spot flaws and weak points so as to best place the explosives. He noticed things most other men would miss.

His heightened awareness alerted him to the approach of two men in the hall. Both in dress shoes, by the sound of their footsteps. One was light and walked with a carefree gait. The other was larger and bulkier, and walked with an intensity in his purpose. He recognized the first set of steps as Carlito’s, but he was at a loss for the second. Solid as they were, they were definitely not Chuy’s. Not heavy enough to be him. The big man always wore heavier shoes anyway. When the cell door opened and Malik opened his eyes, he almost lost his calmness when he saw Sonny standing there, dressed in a fine suit with Carlito’s hand on his shoulder. He had expected Sonny to come at some point, but he thought it would be as part a rescue, not… this. He narrowed his eyes as he processed the data and understood what was happening here.

“So they got to you,” he said without moving.

“They helped me to realize who I really am and what’s really important,” Sonny responded. Carlito rubbed Sonny’s shoulders from behind. “You’re smart enough to know what’s coming. And that it’s pointless to fight.”

“I certainly do,” Malik said. He stood up and faced Sonny. “Well, let’s get this overwith.”

“I knew you’d see reason,” Sonny said. He grabbed Malik by the arm and led him to the chamber where Rhett was confined. The severity of Rhett’s bondage gave Malik pause, but he did his best not to show it. The captive agent did not protest or even squirm as his hands were uncuffed and stuffed into the sleeves of a ponderous leather straightjacket. Malik knew how to escape from these. How to contort his shoulders and slide around inside. All BDNG agents did. Which is why Sonny took extra precautions. Buckles and belts flew this way and that over Malik’s body, securing his arms in place even further and running under his crotch to prevent slipping out through the large hole at the bottom of the garment. And all buckled impossibly tightly, threading all the way to the first notches on the belt. Sonny was actually disappointed that the demolitions expert didn’t fight back. A completely compliant prisoner took a little of the fun away. But no matter.

Malik was laid face-down on the table next to Rhett’s. Leather cuffs were affixed to his ankles and attached to a winch in the ceiling above the table. The chain hanging from the winch was pulled tautly up, link by link, pulling Malik’s legs upward until only his chest was touching the steel table beneath. Sonny applied a leather collar with a chain to Malik’s neck. The end of the chain was cinched to the chain pulling his legs up, bending Malik into an agonizing position. Sonny stepped back.

“If you remain exactly in the position you are in,” Sonny said, “You’ll be fine. But if you move a hair in any direction you’ll either start to choke yourself or you’ll break your arms. It would require almost superhuman self-control and concentration to do it. Let’s see if you live up to your reputation.” Sonny didn’t even need to gag Malik. The intense focus needed to maintain the stress position would serve enough to keep him from talking or shouting. A gag of the mind. Carlito smiled at Sonny’s ingenuity.

“I see you have a deviousness that is altogether unexpected,” he said with a pleased smile. “It seems I struck a gold mine here. You are just full of surprises.”

---

Pahn had heard the hubbub in Rhett’s cell earlier. And when he saw Malik being led past his own cell a short time later, he knew it would only be a matter of time before they came to him. The fact that it was Sonny leading his companion by the arm and not Carlito came as quite a shock. But not an altogether unexpected one. Pahn had never really clicked with Sonny. He didn’t like that Sonny had been a criminal before BDNG (even though he didn’t seem to hold that against Rhett) and was even more resentful that Sonny had seemed to rise up through the ranks without putting in the work that he did. He thought about his wife and new baby. The baby born while he was incarcerated here and that he had never seen. He wondered if he ever would. But his morose contemplation was cut short when Sonny raked a nightstick across the bars of his cell.

“Don’t worry, small fry,” Sonny said. “We didn’t forget about you.” Sonny and Pahn didn’t get off to the best start at BNDG training academy. Sonny’s size and strength, and the overdramatic way he was recruited, gave him a bit of a swelled head. Not to mention that Adamson seemed to have a special affinity for him. Sonny had treated the smaller and physically weaker agent trainees with disregard at best and ridicule at worst. It wasn’t until Pahn outshined everyone else in the class at marksmanship that Sonny began to treat him like a human being. Not quite an equal, but at least with a modicum of respect. Pahn had never quite gotten over that. When he saw Sonny dressed in a suit instead of prison garb and with Carlito on his arm, he wasn’t even surprised.

“I always knew you’d turn on us,” Pahn said. “Always looking for the bigger, better deal. But I guess that’s what criminals do, huh?” Pahn had joined BNDG straight from the FBI academy. Many of the other recruits, like Rhett especially, had less-than-stellar pasts, but Pahn had never questioned their commitment like he did with Sonny. Pahn always felt that the larger man was only there under duress and stayed because he got off on the thrills. He was always resentful that he had to rise up the ranks on his own skills while Sonny seemed to have things handed to him. And now it seems he was right to be unconvinced of Sonny’s loyalty.

Sonny scoffed. “Please, Short Round,” he said, using his favorite insult from their training days. “You think attacking my honor is going to get under my skin? We both know what I did before I joined BNDG. I’ve been called worse. By better men.” Pahn snarled. If only his hands were free he could kill Sonny where he stood, using any of the myriad toiletries and random junk in the cell as a lethal projectile. He certainly deserved it. Sonny did seem to have his guard up when he opened the cell door and grabbed Pahn by the shoulder. Pahn was pleased by that, at least.

Pahn shuddered when he was escorted into the chamber and saw Rhett and Malik, stretched to nearly their breaking points. He could not endure what they were. He didn’t have the endurance of his larger comrades and his specialized training had focused on other areas. He struggled as he was pushed down on the third metal table face-first and felt the cold touch of metal encasing his hands. Pahn craned his neck back to look and saw his hands being encased in compact metal orbs. They were torturously small, compacting his hands into tight fists inside them as they were clamped closed and locked. He heard the clink of metal on metal and saw Sonny pulling chains from under the table. With his nimble and dexterous fingers now trapped inside the metal balls, Pahn was deprived of his greatest asset. Even if he could escape from the cuffs, his hands would still be useless.

Without a word, Sonny got to work crisscrossing the chains around Pahn’s body, torturously encircling his torso. He pressed the marksman’s arms flush against his sides and wound the chains around, pulling them tighter and tighter with each pass. He pressed Pahn’s legs down so his heels were in contact with his ass. More chains around his thighs pinned those down, too. Pahn grunted as the chains were tightened and woven around his entire body in an ornate, almost Shibari-like pattern. When Sonny finally locked the chains closed with sturdy padlocks, Pahn couldn’t move even a hair. All he could do was impotently squirm. Sonny turned Pahn to face the door, sharing an orientation with the other two prisoners. He inserted a leather plug gag into the smaller man’s mouth and buckled it closed.

“Just one left,” Carlito hummed. “Let’s go bring the boss to the party.”

---

Williams knew they would come for him last. It would be the cap on Sonny’s betrayal. He cursed himself for ever trusting him. “What did Carlito offer him?” he thought. “Protection for his friends, at the very least. Which is a good sign. If he’s doing this for someone else’s benefit and not just his own, it means there is something still worth saving in him. If we ever get out of here the first thing that BNDG needs to do is collect them. Maybe they can be used as leverage to get Sonny back.”

“Hello, old man,” Sonny said as he approached the bars. “In deep thought? Pondering your failure? Good. That’s what I was hoping for.”

“You turncoat bastard,” is all Williams said.

“You sure know how to flatter a man,” Sonny said. “But you should know better than to attack my honor. You know as well as I that I don’t have any. Now let’s just get on with it. I have something important to do after I deal with you.” He snapped his fingers and Williams grudgingly rose to his feet.

“I guess we’d better,” he said glumly. As the cell door opened, Williams considered attacking. His hands were cuffed behind him, but that was nothing he couldn’t handle. Combat while bound was part of BNDG’s training. Training he had given many agents himself over the years. But against two top-notch agents like Sonny and Carlito, he knew he had no chance. He could possibly take down one of them, but definitely not both. Better to bide his time and look for an opening later. He walked past the two of them without even looking and started for the chamber where he saw the others being taken. Carlito and Sonny strutted behind him.

Williams gritted his teeth when he saw his three companions mercilessly bound and pushed nearly to their breaking points. He was impressed by their resolve and willpower, but even he knew that they would break eventually. He saw the fourth table and knew without question that it was reserved for him. He walked over to it without being told. “Do your worst, you sonnofabitch,” he barked.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Sonny smirked. He pushed Williams back and the grizzled veteran plopped down on top of the table in a sitting position with his legs dangling over the side. Sonny turned the older man to face the door like the others and bents legs into a crisscross lotus position, like he was sitting on a yoga mat. He pushed his former mentor’s head downward, bending him forward in a pose of supplication. He bade Carlito to hold him that way as he took out the ropes. Williams’ hands were already cuffed behind him, so Sonny left them as they were and went to work binding Williams’s arms. First he pulled Williams’ wrists up and twisted them. He inverted their position, settling them against his upper back in almost a reverse prayer pose. Williams felt the tension building in his arms. The ropes flew fast and furious, securing Williams’ arms into this position against his back with no hope of relief. His muscles burned from the strain. Sonny wove an elaborate net of ropes around Williams’ torso. The pattern was as beautiful as it was functional, tethering Williams’ upper body completely in place. The man was getting on in years, but he was still a master BDNG agent and was dangerous, even when bound. Sonny had to take extra precautions with him.

Once Williams’ arms were fully restrained, Sonny began to work on his legs. Ropes were wound around his left ankle, securing it to the knee of his right leg. His legs were positioned parallel to each other and the process was repeated on the other side. The strain on Williams’ joints was unbearable. But Sonny wasn’t finished. As a final insult, he tied a rope around Williams’ neck and secured it to his legs. The BNDG trainer was forced into a humiliating bow by the cruel ropes. He took the last of the ropes and cleaved a balled-up cloth inside Williams' mouth with them. Williams just gave a disappointed look as his jaws were secured. Sonny stepped back and looked at the squirming package that Williams was contorted into. He started drumming his fingers idly against Malik’s table.

“Such fine work!” Carlito said. “Sadistic, yet artful at the same time. You’re a modern-day Picasso with restraints!”

“Glad you like,” Sonny said. “Now since I did such excellent work, I think I deserve a reward, don’t you?”

“Anything you desire, mi amor,” Carlito said. “Now I know you are one of us, fully.”

Sonny stopped his drumming and came in close to Carlito. He planted a hungry kiss on his lips, making sure all four prisoners saw. “I want to have some alone time with the prince. His Highness has a lot to answer for.” Sonny touched the spot on his ribs where the prince had zapped him and rubbed it for emphasis.

Carlito pouted petulantly. “Very well,” he said. “I think I know what you’re planning. And you’re just the man to do it.” He chuckled. “Come with me.” The two gave the prisoners one last look and left the room, locking the door behind them. Rhett and Pahn immediately started struggling against their bonds as best they could, but the severity of their restraints prevented them from getting very far. But they weren’t going to give up. Malik and Williams exchanged a knowing look.

“Settle down, you two!” Williams barked, barely intelligibly through his gag. Rhett and Pahn stopped their struggling and looked to their mentor for guidance. They looked at him and grunted quizzically behind their gags, but Malik spoke up, nearly howling from the strain that speaking caused on his body from his bondage position.

“We’re going to sit tight down here and wait. Save your strength. We’ll need it,” he said. “Sonny gave us a message. Didn’t you notice the pattern in the way he drummed his fingers? It was BNDG code language.”

Rhett and Pahn looked puzzled until Malik spoke again. “It said… endure.”

Coming Soon: Part 9 – A Royal Encounter
Last edited by wataru14 1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by blackbound »

Damn, Rhett and Malik's predicaments sound harsh, especially Rhett's. As for the last bit, never don't gag. A shameful failure by Carlito.
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

“Sonny gave us a message,” he said. “Didn’t you notice the pattern in the way he drummed his fingers? It was BNDG code language.”

Rhett and Pahn looked puzzled until Williams spoke. “It said… endure.”
I knew it!!!! :D :D :D :D

Sonny is no turncoat! ;)
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Post by Volobond »

The best lies have a core of truth deep within, and likewise, hypnosis couldn't make someone do something they hadn't already been considering. I wouldn't count Carlito's conditioning out of the running just yet...
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Post by gag1195 »

Sonny, as great as he looks and acts in the ropes, has certainly proven himself quite capable of being on the other end! Quite merciless and wonderfully tailor-made bondage- both practically and symbolically! While I'm rooting for Sonny and the other BNDG Agents to get out of this alright, it can't be denied that Sonny certainly has the makings of a great CUFF member... I'm quite looking forward to seeing what CUFF Sonny does with the Prince!

I really hope that Sonny's last message was genuine, and not another mental/emotional torture tactic...
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Post by wataru14 »

blackbound wrote: 1 year ago As for the last bit, never don't gag. A shameful failure by Carlito.
Holy crap, you're right! I was behind schedule and posted this chapter this morning without fully proofreading! I need to do an emergency edit!

Thanks!!!
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

While it's excellent that Sonny never betrayed his friends and was merely playing 3D chess with his captors, I have to wonder how much of his lovemaking with Carlito was for keeping up the ruse.

Aside from that, these were some of the most brutal bondage situations in the story, and the BNDG agents will need every bit of endurance. I particularly enjoyed Rhett's stocks.
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Post by blackbound »

wataru14 wrote: 1 year ago
blackbound wrote: 1 year ago As for the last bit, never don't gag. A shameful failure by Carlito.
Holy crap, you're right! I was behind schedule and posted this chapter this morning without fully proofreading! I need to do an emergency edit!

Thanks!!!
I'm not sure what you think I noticed but I can assure you I didn't! I was just commenting on Carlito's negligence of gagging all four prisoners.
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Post by wataru14 »

blackbound wrote: 1 year ago I'm not sure what you think I noticed but I can assure you I didn't! I was just commenting on Carlito's negligence of gagging all four prisoners.
Either way, I appreciate it.
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Post by Red86 »

I kinda of thought Sonny's test would have been to eliminate them. Glad that wasn't the case and glad it appears Sonny isn't throwing his friends to the wolf's either.

The thought has also crossed my mind that Sonny isn't just putting on this show to get the prince and escape with his comrades. I suspect he's enjoying his time with Carlito. Perhaps Carlito even knows this but is playing along. Carlto could have easily eliminate them all by now so there's some bigger picture that's not revealed yet.
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Post by Guardianbound »

The psychological aspect of this story is so thrilling. Everyone seems to know only half of the truth and some characters may not even be in full control of their minds.

What Sonny does with the Prince will be interesting, how will he save the Prince from CUFF yet get back at him for the betrayal
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Post by spies »

The drama, the intensity, and the motive that everyone has. It is just insane. It took me a while to reread the whole thing to really get the full picture of what is happening, and the suspense is killing me—loving this even more. Although I love Sonny to win, I hope Carlito is just playing along. :D Wanna keep Sonny a bit more.
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Post by wataru14 »


Chapter 9 – A Royal Encounter

Prince Rupert lounged on the couch of his suite in a foul mood. Someone of lesser taste would call this place luxurious, but for him it was a hovel. Ugh! How long would he have to stay here? And why hadn’t his parents paid the ransom yet? At first, this whole experience had been exciting, but after a day or two, he felt nothing but boredom. All he had for entertainment was the TV in the suite and occasional visits from Carlito. The prince had asked if he could have the use of an agent or two for some bedroom time, but Carlito said that such things were not in their job descriptions. If one of them wanted to on his own time, fine, but he would not order anyone to pleasure him. And the prince had no luck in getting one to accept his offer. He guessed they knew his finances were in flux at the moment. What did he expect from mercenaries?

By now, he was getting a little stir crazy. With nothing else to do, he had been watching wrestling on the suite’s TV. An enjoyable American novelty that they didn’t have in Borogravia. He found himself getting drawn to the ridiculous storylines, and was quite turned on from the visceral combat of sweaty bodies. When he was king, maybe he’d start his own promotion? Since it was a lucha libre league, most of the wrestlers were slender men in outlandish masks, and not fitting to his tastes. But some of them were quite well-built. One, in particular, reminded him of someone special. His body, the way he moved, his swagger… they all reminded him of the handsome agent that had tried to save him but ended up being captured by Carlito’s men. The man who would hopefully soon be bundled up and on a plane to his summer home. He just hoped Carlito wasn’t too rough with him. Damaged goods don’t hold their value.

“But why am I becoming so obsessed with this man?” the prince thought. “He’s just an agent. One among many. What about him intrigues me so?” The prince was stirred from his musings as he heard a polite knock at the door. Carlito casually walked in.

“Ah, Carlito,” the prince said. “I was hoping it was you. Any word from mother and father dear?”

“Nothing new, Your Highness,” Carlito said. “You know how negotiations are. I don’t think they are taking this seriously enough. We should send them another video.”

“Another?” the prince said, slightly offended. “I can only thrash around in a chair so many times before it loses impact, don’t you think?”

“Quite,” Carlito said. He walked through the prince’s suite quite nonchalant, but he was hiding his consternation. Empty wine bottles littered the floor, along with discarded clothing and half-empty food trays. Carlito was a little shocked at the prince’s slovenliness, but he remembered that this is a man who had never had to do anything for himself. He probably had obsequious servants snatching his empties from the floor as soon as he finished them. Seeing someone who had everything and appreciated nothing made him bristle.

Carlito’s own grandparents had been among Peron’s “Descamisados” back in the 40s and 50s. His family grew up poor in the slums of Buenos Aires after leaving the countryside. He had to scrounge and fight for everything he ever had. But it made him appreciate finery. When you lived most of your life having nothing, you were never ungrateful for what you managed to obtain for yourself. And by now his own wealth was substantial. Not in the same galaxy as the prince’s, of course, but he lived a life that his grandparents would have wept tears of happiness if they could see. His parents now lived in a grand estate near the Pampas that he had bought them. Internally he scowled at the spoiled boy lounging on the couch, acting like it was too low-quality for him. “Ah well,” Carlito thought. “I only have to deal with this oaf for a few more days. One way or the other.”

“I was thinking along the same lines,” Carlito continued, standing in a place where his view of the prince’s refuse was blocked by the couch. “Which is why I recommend we raise the stakes. Do something that will really light a fire under them.”

“What did you have in mind?” the prince asked, slightly intrigued by Carlito’s suggestion.

“My associate and I have been discussing something that I really think will show your parents the severity of your situation,” Carlito hummed. “I think you will quite like what we have in mind.”

“Associate?” the prince asked. “You mean Chuy? I didn’t think he was much of a planner.”

“It would be wise not to underestimate Chuy,” Carlito warned. “He is smarter than anyone would dare to guess. Just because he doesn’t waste his words doesn’t mean he is stupid. Quite the opposite, really. I think it shows great wisdom to save your words for times when they have impact. Don’t you?”

“I suppose,” the prince said dismissively.

“But I was not talking about Chuy,” Carlito admitted. “I have recently formed a partnership with someone else. Someone of great… talent. He and I have been discussing the progress of our enterprise and he has some very interesting ideas.” Before the prince could interrupt, Carlito shushed him. “He will not be asking for a cut of the proceeds,” Carlito said. “Any compensation for him will come from my own coffers. He doesn’t seem terribly interested in the money, anyway.”

“And just who is this associate, then?” the prince asked. “I don’t trust people who have motivations other than money. Crusaders and idealists often don’t follow the script.”

Carlito grinned from ear to ear. “Oh, he’s neither of those things, Your Highness,” he crooned. Don’t worry. Actually, I think he’s someone you will be very pleased to meet.”

---

Prince Rupert walked through the polished chrome hallway with a CUFF guard on either side of him. He was clad only in a white bathrobe and his hands were loosely held in front of him with reinforced cable ties. Chuy silently walked behind him and Carlito led the group as they proceeded through the corridor. The prince got the strange idea that Chuy had heard what he said in to Carlito in the room, but he couldn’t be sure. He looked down at his cuffed hands as he walked, his bare feet against the polished chrome floor. He chafed at the indignity of being bound like this, but Carlito assured him it was necessary.

“Most of my men do not know of our arrangement,” Carlito had said. “Only a trusted inner circle. The rest think you are actually my prisoner. And we can’t have prisoners wandering around unfettered, can we? Our partnership isn’t something that we can allow to become public knowledge. The fewer who know, the less likely it is that the secret will be exposed, no?” Rupert saw the wisdom in that, so he played along. For now. He had been restrained far more thoroughly at the hotel during his capture, of course, but that was different. They had to make it look real to fool an enemy agent, after all. And besides that, the prince had felt a rush of danger and excitement when Carlito had bound him and stolen his face. It was like a scene from a movie. This was… so pedestrian. So ordinary. And he wasn’t used to ordinary.

Carlito entered a secret code into a security panel on the door of a room at the end of the hall and the prince heard the lock disengage with a pneumatic hiss. For someone who wasn’t in on the ruse, it would be quite unnerving, but the prince knew that the room and whatever was in it was all for show. At least is his case. He chose not to think about what previous occupants had to endure. He thought he had heard groaning and the jangling of chains from a room off to the side as they passed, but he was hurried on down the hall before he could be sure. Carlito told the guards to wait in the hall as he strode inside. Chuy pushed the prince from behind and he nearly tumbled over as he followed.

The room was immaculate. White and clean. A steel operating table filled the center of the room and counters and sinks lined the walls. It looked like some kind of surgical theater. A man in a dark suit stood at the counter across from the door with his back facing the new arrivals. He was searching through the cabinets for something. As soon as the prince saw him, he was immediately drawn to him. The man was thick and broad-shouldered, but not plump anywhere. Anywhere besides his exquisitely juicy posterior, that is. It was all the prince could do to refrain from reaching out and grabbing a feel in spite of himself. His neck was thick and his hair was perfectly styled. The prince could see the impeccable grooming even from behind. The man wore tight black leather gloves that creaked alluringly as he fiddled with the unseen contents of the cabinet.

“We are here, mi hermoso,” Carlito said, walking over and massaging the man’s shoulders from behind. The tantalizing specimen kinked his neck from side to side and let out a low sensual growl. He turned and planted a heavy kiss on Carlito’s lips. When he turned, the prince saw his face and nearly collapsed from shock. It was the man who had found him in the casino hotel bathroom! The man who had been captured and brought here as a prisoner! The man who he had offered to buy from Carlito for his private pleasure harem. He fumed silently as he realized that Carlito had succeeded in whatever conversion tactic he had used. Carlito would pay for this.

Carlito held the kiss for a moment and then pulled away to turn and face the prince with a wry smile. Almost like he was gloating. “As you can see, your majesty, Agent DeLuca has decided to join the winning team. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but as per the conditions of our deal, I’m afraid I will have to reject your generous offer. While the money was tempting, I think I have found something far more valuable than money, no?” The prince silently fumed. He wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted. But he would have to accept this loss. While certainly a prime specimen, Agent DeLuca certainly wasn’t worth jeopardizing the entire operation over. There would be others, and besides, he had more toys at home.

Prince Rupert regained his composure and said, “I must say I am disappointed, but as you say, a deal is a deal. You’ll have to show me what leverage you used to turn him. Based on what I’ve heard about BNDG I didn’t think it was possible.”

“Oh, I’ll be sure to show you when we have more time,” Carlito said, “But for now we have a movie to make. I will let Sonny here take the lead. Go ahead, mi amor.” The emphasis on the last two words was not lost on the prince.

Sonny removed Prince Rupert’s plastic cuffs with a small key and placed them on the counter, out of sight. “As Carlito said,” Sonny said, his honeyed Baritone resonating perfectly with the prince’s mind and sending tingles down his spine. “Your parents are hesitant to pay the ransom. We expected negotiations, of course, but they are not moving along as quickly as we’d like. So we felt they needed something to renew their motivation.”

“So what do I need to do?” the prince asked.

“Just what comes naturally,” Sonny said. He walked over and undid the belt holding the prince’s bathrobe closed. The prince felt a jolt of excitement as Sonny slowly removed the robe, leaving him standing stark naked in the middle of the room. Despite his best efforts to suppress it, in the presence of this exquisitely handsome agent, he felt himself hardening. His skin became red and flushed and he immediately covered his nakedness with his hands. “Please, Your Highness. For what we have planned, you’ll need that as flaccid as possible.” The prince looked at Sonny quizzically, but he just waved his hand at the operating table and indicated for the prince to lay down.

The table was cold, even though the room itself was temperature controlled, which helped the prince to slowly soften his arousal. Carlito had offered him a pill to help with that, but Rupert refused. He didn’t fully trust Carlito yet and had no desire to be in an incoherent stupor if his partner decided to play games with the drugs. The prince laid down on his back and stretched out. He got the strange thought of how the table resembled a morgue drawer. But he found it hard to concentrate on that image as the converted agent began to position him on the slab. The prince quivered as the leather-gloved hands gently moved his arms to his sides and slid his legs together. Sonny gave him a sly wink when his member began to harden again. But seeing Carlito’s impatience and Chuy’s imposing scowl, the prince managed to stifle it again. Rupert was confused. He had been naked in front of scores of men before, so why was he suddenly self-conscious and giddy in front of this one? Why did simply being in his presence excite him so? Maybe there would be an opportunity in the future to acquire him clandestinely? The prince could only hope.

When he was satisfied with the prince’s position on the table, Sonny reached under and pulled out a series of leather straps, each one anchored to the frame on one side. The ones at his wrists and ankles were very short and each had a thick leather cuff on the end, but the others were long and each had half a buckle, designed to match with the one on the other side. Sonny whispered comforting and encouraging pleasantries as he secured the prince’s wrists it the cuffs, his voice penetrating deep into the prince’s subconscious. The prince was mesmerized. Sonny knew he had been chosen for this mission because he was the perfect living representation of the prince’s tastes and desires, that he was selected because the prince would find him irresistible on every level, but even he was shocked as to how the prince reacted to his voice and touch. Adamson really hit it out of the park with this assignment.

The prince could barely move as Sonny secured his ankles. Seeing this vision of a man looming over him, he was absolutely paralyzed with desire. He could do nothing but stare in dreamlike rapture as Sonny brought the straps on either side of him up and over. Sonny continued to stroke the prince’s ego and touch his very soul as he secured the buckles and pulled the straps impossibly tightly across his body. When the last strap was locked shut, the prince was tethered to the slab with straps across his calves, thighs, abdomen, chest, neck, and forehead. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t sit up, he couldn’t move his arms or legs, he couldn’t even roll to the side. He started to squirm a little as Sonny brought a balled-up cloth close to his mouth.

“Don’t worry, your highness,” Sonny said. “You have nothing to fear. This is all for the video. Besides, I think you might like what comes next.” Sonny unrolled the ball to reveal that it was two black dress socks crumpled together. Sonny held them close to the prince’s nose. Even without taking a full sniff, the prince could tell they were HIS socks. His heart began to race as he opened his mouth wide, eager to accept this treasured gift. Sonny smiled as he scrunched the socks back together and gingerly inserted them into the prince’s jaws. He pushed and prodded with his leather-gloved fingers to make sure not a speck of the black fabric was visible when the prince closed his mouth. As the strapped-down heir began to gleefully explore the socks with his tongue, savoring the taste of him that was soaked into the fabric, Sonny unrolled a wide strip of stretchy black tape. He placed it over the prince’s lips and smoothed it down, sealing his mouth shut with its super-science adhesive. Since the prince’s head was secured to the table beneath him, Sonny couldn’t wind the tape around his jaws. Instead, he tore off multiple long strips and plastered them over the prince’s mouth from cheek to cheek. He layered the tape slightly, making a wide band from nose to chin across his captive’s face. The edges of each layer were smooth and straight and the black of the tape and the leather restraints contrasted nicely with the polished chrome silver of the slab.

Carlito came over and gave the prince a good look. “You are a true artist,” he said, kissing his fingers like a chef. “Bondage should be beautiful as well as functional. And this most certainly is. It will translate nicely to film. But we have one more finishing touch before we call His and Her Majesty.” Sonny stepped back and Carlito reached into the pocket of his black suit jacket. He took out a long, thin, black cord. It looked like an especially strong shoelace, but much longer. Sonny put his hand on the prince’s shoulder to draw his attention away from Carlito. The prince purred at the touch. Taking advantage of the prisoner’s distraction, Carlito gently took the prince’s balls in his leather gloved hand and carefully began to pull them down, away from his body.

After he had brought them down about an inch and a half from their original position, Carlito steadied the prince’s balls and began to wind the black cord around the stretched scrotum. He made a few tight revolutions and began wrapping the thick thread down, forming a column of cord that kept the prince’s balls separated from his body. The prince felt the discomfort and slight pain from his stretched sack, but before he could protest, Sonny remembered his briefing and touched the prince’s left nipple with his leather-gloved finger.

“His nipples are extremely sensitive,” the dossier had said. “This can possibly be used to influence his behavior and make him more susceptible to suggestion.” Adamson had really done his research on this one. The prince felt fire erupting through his body as Sonny touched him. Waves of pleasure emanated out from his nipple and through his entire body as Sonny grabbed the nub between his thumb and forefinger and did a slightly twisting squeeze. The prince was so enraptured, swimming in the sensation that infused his flesh, that he didn’t even feel that Carlito had stretched his balls to a full three inches away from his body. They started to darken slightly from the pressure of the cord that bound them. Carlito secured the column and took the two trailing ends of the cord in each hand. He wound the ends around and inbetween the dangling balls themselves, separating them from each other, as well as his trunk. When he finished, the prince’s bound cock was a work of erotic art.

Carlito nodded at Sonny, who ceased his tweaking a stepped away from the prince. The captive royal huffed and puffed through his gag, unhappy that the stimulation had been removed. It was then that he felt what Carlito had done to his balls. He craned his neck down as best he could and saw his testicles, bound and framed, stretched away from his body for all to see. He howled through his gag, Not from the pain, which was light, but from the utter degradation of the act. He was prince, damn it! Not some kind of sex toy for Carlito. What the hell was he doing?

“Now you see why we needed you flaccid,” Carlito said sweetly. “Those Crowned Jewels will be the stars of the show and we couldn’t have them contracting close to your body, could we?”

The prince grunted and fumed for a moment before he felt the slab start to move. He couldn’t see it, but behind him, Sonny had taken up a control device and was manipulating the metal table. The head end began to lift and the foot end began to lower. After a few seconds, he was almost completely vertical, kept from tumbling to the floor only by the leather straps across his body. He was looking straight at a stone-faced Chuy, who had set up a camera on a tripod, facing him.

When Chuy nodded, indicating the secure connection was ready, Carlito and Sonny put on black ski masks. While the King and Queen knew their son had been taken by CUFF, they did not know exactly who was behind the kidnapping. And Carlito preferred to keep it that way. The prince continued to fume and snort as the camera flickered to life.

“Good evening, Your Highnesses,” Carlito said in perfectly accented Borogravian. “It seems you have not been taking my communications seriously. Been dragging your feet, as it were. This will not do. Our organization is not known for its patience, and you have been pushing that limited patience to its breaking point. So you leave me no choice but to escalate the situation.”

The camera panned over to show Prince Rupert, strapped to the table and howling in fury. Carlito walked into frame and slapped the prince across the face with his leather-gloved hand. It would have been a harrowing scene if it hadn’t already been done in the last ransom video the two had filmed the previous day. “Perhaps you do not value your son’s health and well-being,” Carlito said. “We have threatened to remove his fingers and scar his face, but that doesn’t seem to have much of an effect on you, does it? A prince doesn’t need to be handsome… or whole… to be valuable as an heir, after all. But that got me thinking. There is something we can do to make you realize the severity of this situation. Threatening his body will not move you, so perhaps we should threaten… your legacy.”

Sonny came into frame, masked and holding a giant pair of surgical scissors. He ominously walked over to the prince, and lowered the scissors into position. He opened them wide and held them with one blade on either side of the cord column that held the prince’s balls apart from his body.

“For 90 generations, the title of King of Borogravia has passed from father to first son in an unbroken procession,” Carlito said. “What would happen to your House if your heir was rendered… unable to sire? Your ladyship is past the age to bear more children and you only have daughters besides this one, no? Borogravian law still clings to the old ways of male primogeniture, does it not? Where daughters cannot take the throne? Well, what would happen to your line if your only son was… gelded?”

The prince thrashed wildly in his bonds as Sonny threateningly opened and closed the scissors three times. The blades came dangerously close to the prince’s stretched sack before he opened them the final time. There was frantic desperation in the prince’s face and his skin grew red and flushed as he flailed around as best he could beneath the tight leather straps. “A thousand years of unbroken lineage would be severed in an instant. Your House would fall. You would lose your crown and some unworthy distant cousin would take his seat on your throne. Could you imagine the shame? The tragedy? Why, it’s worthy of Aeschylus!”

Carlito drew close to the camera. “You have two choices. You can either pay what we have demanded, in which case your son will returned to you whole and ready to preserve your line for another generation. Or you can refuse and he will be sent back to you as a pathetic eunuch, ushering in the end of your legacy. Only you can prevent the final curtain from descending on your House. You have 24 hours to decide!” Chuy cut the video feed abruptly.

When the camera was off, Sonny carefully pulled the scissors back and closed them, placing them on the counter, before taking his mask off. The prince felt like he had aged ten years as the slab was lowered back into its horizontal position. He howled and screamed through his gag in cold fury. It wasn’t until Sonny gave his nipples a gentle caress that he managed to calm down. Sonny patted the prince’s chest tenderly as Carlito began to unwind the tape that gagged his mouth. He didn’t want to give up the socks that stuffed his jaws, and only relented when Sonny reached in to retrieve them.

“That was quite a performance, Your Highness,” Carlito said. “Worthy of an Academy Award.”

“You sick bastard!” the prince shouted. “Why didn’t you tell me you were planning that?”

“You insult me, my prince,” Carlito said. “We needed your reaction to be genuine. If your parents suspected even the slightest hint of subterfuge then all this pomp and circumstance would be for nothing. They had to fully believe it. And for that to happen, you had to also fully believe it. I apologize for deceiving you, but it was the only way.” Carlito grinned at the prince, who ceased his flailing about and returned to a state of calm. Carlito had the devil’s own charm.

“Yes… well…” the prince stammered, unsure of what to say. “I see your point. But there will be no more scenes like this in the future. I mean it!”

“Of course, Your Grace,” Carlito said. “Now, let’s get you out of those straps. I have a grand dinner planned for us and…” Sonny reached up and placed his palm against Carlito’s chest.

“Not just yet,” he said. “The prince and I have much to discuss. Our first meeting was interrupted and I am curious as to what could have been. I think the prince agrees with me.” Sonny looked over at the prince and licked his lips seductively.

The prince was floored. Did Sonny mean what he thought he meant? He studied the man closely, and quickly looked over to see Carlito’s reaction to his idea. Carlito seemed pensive for a moment, then his mood instantly brightened. It was jarring in a way.

“So you wish to play, mi amor?” he said slyly. “Very well, I will let you have this dalliance since it was so cruelly ripped from you before. But just this once, no?” Without being told, Chuy packed up the camera and headed for the door. Carlito looked back and said “Don’t have too much fun, now. You’ll make me jealous.” He stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him.

Sonny waited for a moment to make sure Carlito wasn’t going to change his mind and return. When it was clear, he began to remove his jacket and tie, placing them neatly on the counter. The prince it his lip in anticipation. “Not the most ideal of circumstances,” he thought, “but true to form. I always get what I want.” Sonny gave a sultry smile as he began to unbutton his dress shirt.

The prince began to squirm against the straps that held him to the table, but Sonny simply chuckled. “Oh no, your highness,” he said, placing his gloved finger over the prince’s lips when he tried to demand release. “That mouth of yours will be quite occupied in a moment. And it won’t be from talking. There will be plenty of time for that later.” The prince nodded eagerly as Sonny removed his shirt and undershirt and stood above him, his trained and toned musculature on full display. Sonny walked, full of swagger and bravado, over to the foot of the slab and began to slowly remove his leather gloves, one finger at a time, as he stared haughtily into the prince’s eyes.

“Leave those on,” the prince said with labored breaths. His stomach was fluttering so fast he could barely form words. “Please.”

Sony stopped and bowed. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

---

Carlito waited leaning against the wall of the hall outside the chamber, his arms folded across his chest. At first, the grunting and moaning coming from the room amused him, but he began to frown when they changed from the sounds of a routine seduction into something more visceral. When Sonny emerged from the chamber, drenched in sweat and carrying his shirt and jacket over his arm, he was tempted to say something. But Sonny silenced his doubts with a deep and hungry kiss.

“It’s done,” he said after he pulled away, playfully booping Carlito on the nose. “And he even said ‘please.’”

“That is quite an accomplishment! I was wrong to doubt you,” Carlito said. “I have been trying to crack that nut for days now and he has shown remarkable reluctance to spill his secrets. But it seems you found the proper lever to move him.”

Sonny smirked as he put his shirt and tie back on. “Adamson said that I was the perfect match for the prince’s tastes,” he said. “But I didn’t know how right he was. The pompous windbag nearly came as soon as I touched him.”

“A rather crass way to put it,” Carlito said, “but very apt. Your profile lines up with his desires almost exactly. If I believed in such things’ I’d call it destiny. I’ll bet you played him like a Stradivarius.”

“I barely had to do anything,” Sonny said. Carlito knew that was a lie. What he had heard from the hall made that abundantly clear. “The adrenaline from the fright he had kept him off balance and made him completely malleable. After a little of the old in-and-out the bastard was singing opera. He’d tell me if he wore women’s underwear.”

“Madre de Dios!” Carlito said, laughing. “I’m running a spy cell, not a frat house! You’re absolutely incorrigible.” He paused and raised his eyebrow. “Well, does he?” he asked with a coy smile. Sonny just grinned and made a zipping gesture over his lips. Carlito laughed out loud. “We can discuss the raunchy details after dinner. Maybe you can give me a play-by-play? With hands-on demonstration, of course.” Sonny put his arm around Carlito’s shoulder and the two started walking back toward the office.

“But before that,” Carlito said as they walked, “let us talk about the location and time of that arms deal, yes?”

Coming Soon: Chapter 10 – An Unexpected Ally
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Post by Guardianbound »

Nothing more anti-monarchy than ending a bloodline!! One session with Sonny is not enough to humble this Prince, he's so spoiled. And, Carlito seems to be trusting Sonny a little too much, but is he getting played or is he still pulling all the strings?
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Post by gag1195 »

Have to wonder if Sonny managed to slip a message to the Prince under all that moaning and 'opera singing'. If Sonny is in fact still in control of his faculties and is truly playing Carlito and CUFF, he still needs to complete the mission and rescue the Prince... An interesting turn of events...
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Volobond
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Post by Volobond »

How intriguing, and of course the only way to encourage distant royals to rescue their wayward heir is to threaten the line of succession!

I wonder what the plan is... I wonder if Sonny will try using that suggestion room against the Prince to get him to behave...
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KidnappedCowboy
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

I still believe Sonny has not turned! :)

But what exquisite torture of that randy royal. :lol:

Rather than geld him, however, just give him a concoction that would make him limp. For some reason, I find that more exquisitely humiliating! :twisted: :twisted:
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