The Bureau of National Defense and Government [M/M] [conclusion 5/11/23]
Posted: Wed Oct 19, 2022 12:26 am
Here is chapter 1 of a new tale that I will be posting alternating with TUG. Enjoy!
Chapter 1 – A Prince Among Men
“Ah, Vegas! It’s been too long,” Sonny thought as he sat in the rear seat of the limo headed for the Strip. He adjusted his cufflinks and took a swig of champagne. “And quite a change from the last time I was here.” A few years back, he was just a common street thug, boosting cars and pickpocketing tourists. He had drifted down to Vegas in search of easy money. But isn’t that everyone’s story in this town? But that was before the Bureau found him. Or should he say “when he found the Bureau?” Could go either way.
He had met up with a bunch of guys he really clicked with and started pulling larger jobs with them. Jewelry stores. Warehouses. Some decent heists. Their names were Cole, Mike, and Craig. A couple and a Plus One. And what a Plus One he was! Sonny ran with that crew for a few months, and maintained an on-again/off-again NSA fling with “Hulko,” as he was affectionately called by the group. It was a damned good time. But all good things do eventually come to an end. This particular end was during a poker game robbery that was supposed to be easy. But the jobs described as “easy” never are, are they?
It was supposed to be in and out. A lot of shouting, a lot of cash and jewelry getting stuffed into bags, a few goombas being zip tied to their chairs and gagged with their own silk pocket squares… badda bing badda boom. But Sonny knew something was off with this job as soon as they stormed the room and took over. One of the poker players seemed a little out of place. His reactions were different from the others’. No “When I get loose I’m gonna hunt you down and mppgghhh!!!” as the gag went in. No curses in Italian as he was relieved of his pinky ring before the zip ties were applied to his wrists. He was plenty mad, sure, but not in the same way as the others. Sonny didn’t understand why that was until later.
After the five “legitimate businessmen” poker players and their two galoot guards were all securely tied to chairs and gagged, the crew made their escape. And THAT’s when Sonny realized what was going on. As soon as they rounded the corner of the alley where the getaway van was located, they were hit with high-intensity floodlights. SWAT vans. FBI. Even a goddamn helicopter! How the fuck did they get here so fast? Sonny immediately thought “setup,” but there was no way any of his three partners would ever do that. And he knew he didn’t. Faced with no alternatives and no way out, the four robbers dropped to their knees with their hands raised and were swarmed by heavily-armed agents. In a matter of minutes they were cuffed behind their backs, leg shackled, and hooded and found themselves being stuffed into the back of a waiting FBI transport.
But Sonny wasn’t going to let this setback get to him. He couldn’t tell if there was a guard in the transport with them because of the hood robbing his sight, so he had to work quickly and quietly. The group had been thoroughly searched when they were arrested, but the feds missed something. Sonny always kept a handcuff key sewn into the cuff of his shirtsleeve. Sandwiched between two layers of fabric, it was almost undetectable. Careful not to move too much and give himself away if anyone could see him, Sonny slowly fished the key out and used it in his nimble fingers to unlock his handcuffs from behind. When his hands were free, he held them behind his back tapped his foot against the metal seat in a deliberate pattern, beating out a rehearsed signal to the others.
From under his hood, Sonny heard a thud that could only be Cole doing a trick fall. Mike and Craig started yelling, but there was no sign of movement otherwise. No guard shouting or radioing for support. Seizing his chance, Sonny lifted his hood and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the four prisoners were indeed alone in the transport. Something went his way, at least. He made quick work in unlocking his leg shackles before freeing the others. As soon as the transport stopped at a traffic light, Craig opened the rear door and the group bolted for freedom. He, Mike, and Cole hit the ground running and tore off into the night, but Sonny’s luck decided to desert him. Before he could jump, the door to the front of the transport opened and two pairs of hands grabbed him tight and pulled him back inside. He felt a jab in his neck and everything went black.
---
When Sonny awoke, he felt the biting sting of rope tightly around his wrists, ankles, and torso. He was bound hopelessly firmly to a chair in a small concrete room with no windows and a single steel door. A single light shone on him from above. Not a cell, it was more like an interrogation room. After looking around to make sure he was alone, Sonny began to work on his bonds. Whoever had tied him up really knew what they were doing! They were even better at binding prisoners than Cole was, and he and Mike “practiced” constantly. He wriggled and slid his wrists around in a feverish attempt to slip the ropes. He felt the abrasions forming, but also realized he was making progress. Slow progress, but still progress all the same. Ten minutes later he almost had his hands free, but he quickly stopped when the metal door to the room opened and he heard the sound of slow, condescending applause.
Standing in the doorway was one of the poker players. The one who seemed different from the others. And now Sonny realized why. Instead of the expensive suit jacket he was wearing when Mike ziptied him to his chair, the man was wearing an FBI windbreaker and a golden badge hung from a chain around his neck.
“Oh fuck,” Sonny said, ceasing his escape attempt and slumping back in the chair.
“’Oh fuck’ is right,” the agent said. “Santino Anthony Giovanni De Luca. Age 30. Multiple priors stemming back to the age of 15. Suspect in numerous burglaries and armed robberies along the West Coast. Known associate of Cole Murphy, Craig Swenson, and Michael Lucchesi: all of which are wanted by the FBI. You really screwed the pooch on this one.” The agent let his words hang in the air for a moment before diffusing the tension. “But relax. We weren’t looking for you. You interrupted a very expensive ongoing investigation. I’ve been undercover with those mafiosi for some time now and you really screwed everything up. Your little stunt set our work back quite a ways.”
“Where are they?” Sonny asked, ignoring the shop talk.
“Right now?” the agent replied with a smirk, “They’re all at Murphy and Lucchesi’s apartment doing damage control. Trying to find you, as a matter of fact. We’re listening in on their conversation right now. But whether they stay there or whether they join you on the way to federal prison depends solely on what you do in the next few minutes.”
Sonny sat still and remained silent as the agent circled behind him. He bent down and checked the ropes that secured his wrists behind his back. “You did remarkably well on that,” the agent said, letting Sonny see how impressed he was. “Most guys can’t get anywhere near that close to escaping. Maybe I’m losing my touch. Anyway…” He circled back around front. “Even though you weren’t our target tonight, we have been watching you all for a while. You, in particular, have piqued a lot of interest. We’re looking for someone like you. Your escape from the transport was very impressive.”
“Not too impressive,” Sonny said, shrugging as best he could with his hands bound behind his back, “because I didn’t actually escape, Agent Adamson.” He saw a reaction from the agent, who then looked down at the badge hanging from his neck. Seeing the name printed there in barely-visible letters, he smiled. “But if you think I’m going to inform on my crew, you’re wasting your time.”
“That’s not what we’re after,” Adamson said. “With eagle eyes and quick-thinking like yours, we have much bigger plans for you. Now listen up because I’m going to make this offer only once. Accept and your friends get a one-time ‘get out of town’ pass and I make sure their files get mysteriously lost. Refuse and we get you four a joint suite in supermax. The choice is yours.”
“What kind of offer?” Sonny said.
---
And that was it. He didn’t have any options, anyway. Not really. Cole and the others quietly disappeared for greener pastures and Sonny was enrolled in a breakneck training academy run by the Department of Defense. A super-secret agency called the Bureau of National Defense and Government. They taught him expert hand-to-hand combat, advanced firearms and explosives, escape and evasion techniques, data gathering and analysis. And he took to it instantly, finding that he actually liked the job. It was physical enough to challenge him and required quick thinking and guile, which he excelled in. After a few months of training, he was out in the field serving his country. And racking up success after success. Stopping terrorists, rescuing kidnapped VIPs, stealing enemy secrets… he was a natural. After just one year he was the agency’s top man and was being assigned to dangerous and clandestine missions all over the globe. Which is why the current job assignment surprised him so much.
“It’s a straight seduction assignment,” Adamson said at the briefing. “Your target is Prince Rupert of Borogravia. He’s heir to the throne of a tiny European principality in the Alps about the size of this building. But his family made a mint in international banking. And his country’s lack of extradition treaties with anyone makes it a hotbed of criminal activity.”
“At some point in the near future a major arms deal is going to be held in Borogravia,” Adamson continued. “And we need to know where and when. That’s where you come in. Wine him and dine him, get his lips loose, and get that information. He should be puddy in your hands.”
“Don’t you think this is a bit too basic for a man of my skills?” Sonny said with a smile. “I mean if you want him snatched, or even assassinated, I can maybe see using me. But a honeypot job? I’m a little insulted.”
“Don’t get cocky, rookie,” Adamson warned. “Even with your track record, you’re still probationary. I can have you sent to prison after all. Based on his profile, you are a perfect match for his tastes. Your personality, your looks, your body… everything. He won’t be able to resist you.”
“OK, OK, fine!” Sonny said, smiling. The Prince quite was a looker and he was actually looking forward to a recreational low-key assignment after his last one: a rather explosive conflict in Argentina. He and the scientist he was sent in to rescue were captured by the enemy and barely escaped with their lives. He was thankful for a little R&R. Hopefully no one would be shooting at him during this mission. “And he’s in Vegas?” Sonny said.
“Yes,” Adamson replied. “The Prince has more money than God and likes to piss it away at the tables. He’s been through every casino in Monte Carlo twice and wants to try his luck stateside. We’re sending you in tonight, rookie. Get ready, your plane leaves in an hour.”
---
The concierge opened the door to the limo and Sonny stepped out into the entrance plaza like a celebrity, wearing a suit that cost more than a normal family made in a year. His alias was on all the exclusive guest lists and he had VIP access to everything. All courtesy of BNDG. “I guess this job does have some perks,” he thought, as he strode through the casino. He grabbed a complementary scotch and soda from a passing barmaid with a coy wink and downed it. “Time to get to work,” he said to himself.
Finding the Prince was easy. The Ultra-High-Roller Room was heavily guarded with armed security, but thanks to BNDG, Sonny could stride right in with just a nod. Across the room, he spied the prince at the craps table and made initial eye contact with a smile. He wasn’t hard to spot. Handsome European flanked by two mountains of flesh in black suits with earpieces and barely concealed hardware. The Prince gave Sonny a quizzical look, then returned the smile and went back to his game. Other than the Prince’s entourage, the room was basically empty.
“Step 1 complete,” Sonny thought. “Contact made. Now to bait the hook.” Sonny sat down at a slot machine and began playing, his phone resting on the console terminal. It had a special computer scrambler that would alter the machine’s probability in his favor, allowing him to put on the front of winning often. “A lucky man makes a lot of friends,” Sonny thought. And he was soon proven right.
After about an hour he was $10,000 up. He was about to play another round when one of the Prince’s security guards came up and tapped him on the shoulder. Sonny turned and looked up at the man, who just said in a thick Germanic accent: “The Prince wishes to honor you with his company” and turned away. Across the room, the prince gave a wink in Sonny’s direction.
“Got him!” Sonny thought. “Now to reel him in.” He got up from the machine, grabbing his phone, and smoothed out his suit in an alluring way. Drawing the Prince’s attention down his chiseled body and to his waistline. The folks at BNDG had tailored the suit to fit him perfectly and accentuate his… assets. All part of the perfectly-oiled honey trap for the Prince. Seeing his mark staring, Sonny gave a quick whistle and pointed up at his face with a smirk. The Prince chuckled and set a pile of chips in the empty seat next to him, beckoning Sonny to sit.
His Highness didn’t seem to be the brightest bulb and was basking in the attention from the handsome agent, completely unaware of the setup. He was eating out of Sonny’s hand. After a particularly big win (thanks to both Sonny’s phone and the undercover BNDG agent serving as the table dealer), the Prince placed his hand on Sonny’s lap and rubbed his thigh playfully.
“You’ve been quite the good luck charm, I must say,” the Prince said in perfect, but heavily accented English. “I won big tonight thanks to you. Perhaps you’d like to come back to my suite and we can celebrate my winnings privately?” Security gave a stern frown, but the Prince waved it away.
“I would enjoy that very much, Your Highness,” Sonny said. He took the Prince’s hand and gently moved it up his thigh, bringing it to rest right on top of his nether regions.
“Yes, I can see that you would,” the Prince chuckled. He turned to his guards and said “Cash out for me, please” before taking Sonny’s hand and walking up the private VIP stairs into the Presidential Suites.
---
As soon as they made it into the Prince’s suite and closed it behind them, the Prince attacked Sonny like he was a gourmet meal. He shoved Sonny against the wall and kissed him passionately, stripping off Sonny’s suit jacket and shirt at the same time. Sonny was a little taken aback by this. The Prince’s dossier never mentioned him being sexually assertive. Maybe it was the booze and the thrill of winning? At any rate, his subsequent romp with the prince was very fun, Sonny had to admit. He was an eager and energetic bottom, and quite playful. But things took an unexpected turn when, after about an hour, the Prince leaned in, nibbled Sonny’s ear and whispered, “You’re even better than I hoped. I have to thank BDNG for sending you after me.”
Sonny sat up with a jolt, but the Prince just chuckled. “Oh don’t worry,” he said, putting his mouth on Sonny’s right pec and licking seductively down his chest and abs. “I know who you are. And what you are. Your agency wants the date and location of the arms deal, no? Well, I could tell you, but I have something more fun in mind. Let’s see how good you are at interrogation…” Sonny shuddered as the Prince’s tongue reached the base of his shaft, stopping just short of his throbbing genitals. He looked down and caught the Prince’s gaze, but then the Prince turned his head. Sonny followed his sightline and saw what the Prince was looking at: his silk tie draped over the sideboard and the full ice bucket beside it.
With a wry smile, Sonny slid out of bed and grabbed the Prince’s tie. He placed it between his teeth and crawled back on all fours across the bed like a stalking tiger. The Prince licked his lips and moaned as Sonny gingerly positioned his hands behind his back and began to bind them in place with the expensive silk necktie.
“The first step in interrogation is to make sure your subject is properly restrained,” he growled seductively as he pulled the silk bonds snugly around the Prince’s wrists. “And not just to keep them secure. If done correctly, it can be quite sensual and pleasurable. There are other ways to extract information besides torture, you know.” The Prince gasped and purred with each loop of silk imprisoning his wrists. Sonny could tell he was savoring the delicate feel of the fabric against his flesh. After he secured the last knot, Sonny leaned in and started kissing the Prince’s neck from behind, rubbing his chest over his shoulders. The Prince mewled and let out a long, breathy “ooooooooh, that’s good. You have magic hands.”
Sonny chuckled at the compliment, then reached over and grabbed an ice cube from the bucket. He placed the freezing block against the Prince’s chest, making him shiver with pleasure and expectation. With aching slowness, Sonny dragged the cube down the Prince’s body, watching the waves ripple out as the cold sensation moved. He made sure to take extra care with the Prince’s nipples, which his dossier said were especially sensitive. The Prince spasmed with joy as his nipples hardened and his cock began to throb and bounce.
Sonny reached down over the Prince’s shoulder. “Now, Your Highness, let’s discuss that arms deal,” he growled. But just before he took hold of the Prince’s cock to begin the teasing, edging strokes, the Prince stopped him.
“Wait,” he said, biting his lip in expectation. “I have some more toys in the bathroom. I would be much more… pliable if you used them on me.”
Sonny grinned and slinked off the bed. “I’ll be right back, Your Highness,” he said, licking his lips. “Don’t go anywhere.” With a slow, deliberate walk that gave the prince full view of his rock-hard ass, Sonny sauntered into the bathroom. The bath suite was more like it. It was as large as his entire apartment! There was a giant hot tub on a raised platform on one side, hidden by a drawn curtain, and several walk-in linen closets. “Nice hot tub. We’ll have to use that later.” He saw all sorts of expensive artwork and fixtures in the suite, but what he didn’t see was the Prince’s toys. “Hmmm,” Sonny thought, “that’s odd. You’d think they’d be right here the way he was talking. Wait? What was that?”
From inside the hot tub, Sonny heard a small grunt. Then a low mumble. His spy senses firing to life, Sonny grabbed a pair of scissors from the sink counter and slowly made his way up the stairs to the hot tub. Readying the scissors for action, he grabbed the curtain and threw it back.
Inside the hot tub, mercilessly hogtied with thin polymer ropes and stuff gagged with thick silk handkerchiefs was… Prince Rupert? What?!? The young heir’s toned body was crisscrossed in ropes that held his hands and feet immobile and his arms secured fast to his sides. His legs were pressed tight together and held with the sturdy cables as well. The Prince frantically grunted and screamed through his gag as Sonny stood frozen in shock. He shook himself back into business mode and brought the scissors around to free the prince from his bonds, but stopped. “Wait,” the thought. “If this is Prince Rupert, then who is tied up in the bedroom?”
Before Sonny could finish that thought, a massive figure emerged behind him out of one of the linen closets and grabbed him in a vice-grip bearhug. Sonny was naturally fit and strong, and his might was honed by his intensive agent workout routine, but caught off-guard as he was, he couldn’t summon up enough strength to break free. The scissors fell uselessly out of his hand and clanked against the tile floor. He began to struggle valiantly in a futile attempt to break his unseen attacker’s grip, but it was no use. Whoever had him was titanically strong. He had only known one man who had that much strength…
“Chuy!” Sonny spat as he struggled.
His massive attacker dragged him back down the stairs to the floor of the bathroom. “Aw, you guessed!” came a heavily accented voice in his ear. Before Sonny could react further, a colossal hand clamped over his face, pressing a wet rag over his mouth and nose. Sonny tried to hold his breath but a squeeze from his assailant forced him to breathe in and he got a lungful of the sickly sweet vapors. His eyes began to flutter and he felt himself weakening. With his diminishing awareness, Sonny heard someone entering from the bedroom and Chuy spun him around, still holding the cursed rag over his face, to see the new arrival.
The fake Prince, who had managed to free his hands, stood in the doorway. The silk tie was draped alluringly over his shoulders, hanging down over his sculpted bare pecs. His feet were also bare, but he had put on his discarded pants before coming in. The false prince strutted over to Sonny, who was trapped in Chuy’s iron grip and powerless to escape. Sonny felt his muscles being sapped of all strength and his vision darkening as the imposter reached out and rubbed his chest. In a heavy Argentinian accent, he said, “Soon I will pay you back for what happened in Buenos Aires…”
“Carlito!” Sonny gasped. In his shock, he breathed in a heavy whiff of the fumes from the rag over his face and everything went dark.
Coming Soon: Chapter 2 – So Near, Yet So Far
Chapter 1 – A Prince Among Men
“Ah, Vegas! It’s been too long,” Sonny thought as he sat in the rear seat of the limo headed for the Strip. He adjusted his cufflinks and took a swig of champagne. “And quite a change from the last time I was here.” A few years back, he was just a common street thug, boosting cars and pickpocketing tourists. He had drifted down to Vegas in search of easy money. But isn’t that everyone’s story in this town? But that was before the Bureau found him. Or should he say “when he found the Bureau?” Could go either way.
He had met up with a bunch of guys he really clicked with and started pulling larger jobs with them. Jewelry stores. Warehouses. Some decent heists. Their names were Cole, Mike, and Craig. A couple and a Plus One. And what a Plus One he was! Sonny ran with that crew for a few months, and maintained an on-again/off-again NSA fling with “Hulko,” as he was affectionately called by the group. It was a damned good time. But all good things do eventually come to an end. This particular end was during a poker game robbery that was supposed to be easy. But the jobs described as “easy” never are, are they?
It was supposed to be in and out. A lot of shouting, a lot of cash and jewelry getting stuffed into bags, a few goombas being zip tied to their chairs and gagged with their own silk pocket squares… badda bing badda boom. But Sonny knew something was off with this job as soon as they stormed the room and took over. One of the poker players seemed a little out of place. His reactions were different from the others’. No “When I get loose I’m gonna hunt you down and mppgghhh!!!” as the gag went in. No curses in Italian as he was relieved of his pinky ring before the zip ties were applied to his wrists. He was plenty mad, sure, but not in the same way as the others. Sonny didn’t understand why that was until later.
After the five “legitimate businessmen” poker players and their two galoot guards were all securely tied to chairs and gagged, the crew made their escape. And THAT’s when Sonny realized what was going on. As soon as they rounded the corner of the alley where the getaway van was located, they were hit with high-intensity floodlights. SWAT vans. FBI. Even a goddamn helicopter! How the fuck did they get here so fast? Sonny immediately thought “setup,” but there was no way any of his three partners would ever do that. And he knew he didn’t. Faced with no alternatives and no way out, the four robbers dropped to their knees with their hands raised and were swarmed by heavily-armed agents. In a matter of minutes they were cuffed behind their backs, leg shackled, and hooded and found themselves being stuffed into the back of a waiting FBI transport.
But Sonny wasn’t going to let this setback get to him. He couldn’t tell if there was a guard in the transport with them because of the hood robbing his sight, so he had to work quickly and quietly. The group had been thoroughly searched when they were arrested, but the feds missed something. Sonny always kept a handcuff key sewn into the cuff of his shirtsleeve. Sandwiched between two layers of fabric, it was almost undetectable. Careful not to move too much and give himself away if anyone could see him, Sonny slowly fished the key out and used it in his nimble fingers to unlock his handcuffs from behind. When his hands were free, he held them behind his back tapped his foot against the metal seat in a deliberate pattern, beating out a rehearsed signal to the others.
From under his hood, Sonny heard a thud that could only be Cole doing a trick fall. Mike and Craig started yelling, but there was no sign of movement otherwise. No guard shouting or radioing for support. Seizing his chance, Sonny lifted his hood and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the four prisoners were indeed alone in the transport. Something went his way, at least. He made quick work in unlocking his leg shackles before freeing the others. As soon as the transport stopped at a traffic light, Craig opened the rear door and the group bolted for freedom. He, Mike, and Cole hit the ground running and tore off into the night, but Sonny’s luck decided to desert him. Before he could jump, the door to the front of the transport opened and two pairs of hands grabbed him tight and pulled him back inside. He felt a jab in his neck and everything went black.
---
When Sonny awoke, he felt the biting sting of rope tightly around his wrists, ankles, and torso. He was bound hopelessly firmly to a chair in a small concrete room with no windows and a single steel door. A single light shone on him from above. Not a cell, it was more like an interrogation room. After looking around to make sure he was alone, Sonny began to work on his bonds. Whoever had tied him up really knew what they were doing! They were even better at binding prisoners than Cole was, and he and Mike “practiced” constantly. He wriggled and slid his wrists around in a feverish attempt to slip the ropes. He felt the abrasions forming, but also realized he was making progress. Slow progress, but still progress all the same. Ten minutes later he almost had his hands free, but he quickly stopped when the metal door to the room opened and he heard the sound of slow, condescending applause.
Standing in the doorway was one of the poker players. The one who seemed different from the others. And now Sonny realized why. Instead of the expensive suit jacket he was wearing when Mike ziptied him to his chair, the man was wearing an FBI windbreaker and a golden badge hung from a chain around his neck.
“Oh fuck,” Sonny said, ceasing his escape attempt and slumping back in the chair.
“’Oh fuck’ is right,” the agent said. “Santino Anthony Giovanni De Luca. Age 30. Multiple priors stemming back to the age of 15. Suspect in numerous burglaries and armed robberies along the West Coast. Known associate of Cole Murphy, Craig Swenson, and Michael Lucchesi: all of which are wanted by the FBI. You really screwed the pooch on this one.” The agent let his words hang in the air for a moment before diffusing the tension. “But relax. We weren’t looking for you. You interrupted a very expensive ongoing investigation. I’ve been undercover with those mafiosi for some time now and you really screwed everything up. Your little stunt set our work back quite a ways.”
“Where are they?” Sonny asked, ignoring the shop talk.
“Right now?” the agent replied with a smirk, “They’re all at Murphy and Lucchesi’s apartment doing damage control. Trying to find you, as a matter of fact. We’re listening in on their conversation right now. But whether they stay there or whether they join you on the way to federal prison depends solely on what you do in the next few minutes.”
Sonny sat still and remained silent as the agent circled behind him. He bent down and checked the ropes that secured his wrists behind his back. “You did remarkably well on that,” the agent said, letting Sonny see how impressed he was. “Most guys can’t get anywhere near that close to escaping. Maybe I’m losing my touch. Anyway…” He circled back around front. “Even though you weren’t our target tonight, we have been watching you all for a while. You, in particular, have piqued a lot of interest. We’re looking for someone like you. Your escape from the transport was very impressive.”
“Not too impressive,” Sonny said, shrugging as best he could with his hands bound behind his back, “because I didn’t actually escape, Agent Adamson.” He saw a reaction from the agent, who then looked down at the badge hanging from his neck. Seeing the name printed there in barely-visible letters, he smiled. “But if you think I’m going to inform on my crew, you’re wasting your time.”
“That’s not what we’re after,” Adamson said. “With eagle eyes and quick-thinking like yours, we have much bigger plans for you. Now listen up because I’m going to make this offer only once. Accept and your friends get a one-time ‘get out of town’ pass and I make sure their files get mysteriously lost. Refuse and we get you four a joint suite in supermax. The choice is yours.”
“What kind of offer?” Sonny said.
---
And that was it. He didn’t have any options, anyway. Not really. Cole and the others quietly disappeared for greener pastures and Sonny was enrolled in a breakneck training academy run by the Department of Defense. A super-secret agency called the Bureau of National Defense and Government. They taught him expert hand-to-hand combat, advanced firearms and explosives, escape and evasion techniques, data gathering and analysis. And he took to it instantly, finding that he actually liked the job. It was physical enough to challenge him and required quick thinking and guile, which he excelled in. After a few months of training, he was out in the field serving his country. And racking up success after success. Stopping terrorists, rescuing kidnapped VIPs, stealing enemy secrets… he was a natural. After just one year he was the agency’s top man and was being assigned to dangerous and clandestine missions all over the globe. Which is why the current job assignment surprised him so much.
“It’s a straight seduction assignment,” Adamson said at the briefing. “Your target is Prince Rupert of Borogravia. He’s heir to the throne of a tiny European principality in the Alps about the size of this building. But his family made a mint in international banking. And his country’s lack of extradition treaties with anyone makes it a hotbed of criminal activity.”
“At some point in the near future a major arms deal is going to be held in Borogravia,” Adamson continued. “And we need to know where and when. That’s where you come in. Wine him and dine him, get his lips loose, and get that information. He should be puddy in your hands.”
“Don’t you think this is a bit too basic for a man of my skills?” Sonny said with a smile. “I mean if you want him snatched, or even assassinated, I can maybe see using me. But a honeypot job? I’m a little insulted.”
“Don’t get cocky, rookie,” Adamson warned. “Even with your track record, you’re still probationary. I can have you sent to prison after all. Based on his profile, you are a perfect match for his tastes. Your personality, your looks, your body… everything. He won’t be able to resist you.”
“OK, OK, fine!” Sonny said, smiling. The Prince quite was a looker and he was actually looking forward to a recreational low-key assignment after his last one: a rather explosive conflict in Argentina. He and the scientist he was sent in to rescue were captured by the enemy and barely escaped with their lives. He was thankful for a little R&R. Hopefully no one would be shooting at him during this mission. “And he’s in Vegas?” Sonny said.
“Yes,” Adamson replied. “The Prince has more money than God and likes to piss it away at the tables. He’s been through every casino in Monte Carlo twice and wants to try his luck stateside. We’re sending you in tonight, rookie. Get ready, your plane leaves in an hour.”
---
The concierge opened the door to the limo and Sonny stepped out into the entrance plaza like a celebrity, wearing a suit that cost more than a normal family made in a year. His alias was on all the exclusive guest lists and he had VIP access to everything. All courtesy of BNDG. “I guess this job does have some perks,” he thought, as he strode through the casino. He grabbed a complementary scotch and soda from a passing barmaid with a coy wink and downed it. “Time to get to work,” he said to himself.
Finding the Prince was easy. The Ultra-High-Roller Room was heavily guarded with armed security, but thanks to BNDG, Sonny could stride right in with just a nod. Across the room, he spied the prince at the craps table and made initial eye contact with a smile. He wasn’t hard to spot. Handsome European flanked by two mountains of flesh in black suits with earpieces and barely concealed hardware. The Prince gave Sonny a quizzical look, then returned the smile and went back to his game. Other than the Prince’s entourage, the room was basically empty.
“Step 1 complete,” Sonny thought. “Contact made. Now to bait the hook.” Sonny sat down at a slot machine and began playing, his phone resting on the console terminal. It had a special computer scrambler that would alter the machine’s probability in his favor, allowing him to put on the front of winning often. “A lucky man makes a lot of friends,” Sonny thought. And he was soon proven right.
After about an hour he was $10,000 up. He was about to play another round when one of the Prince’s security guards came up and tapped him on the shoulder. Sonny turned and looked up at the man, who just said in a thick Germanic accent: “The Prince wishes to honor you with his company” and turned away. Across the room, the prince gave a wink in Sonny’s direction.
“Got him!” Sonny thought. “Now to reel him in.” He got up from the machine, grabbing his phone, and smoothed out his suit in an alluring way. Drawing the Prince’s attention down his chiseled body and to his waistline. The folks at BNDG had tailored the suit to fit him perfectly and accentuate his… assets. All part of the perfectly-oiled honey trap for the Prince. Seeing his mark staring, Sonny gave a quick whistle and pointed up at his face with a smirk. The Prince chuckled and set a pile of chips in the empty seat next to him, beckoning Sonny to sit.
His Highness didn’t seem to be the brightest bulb and was basking in the attention from the handsome agent, completely unaware of the setup. He was eating out of Sonny’s hand. After a particularly big win (thanks to both Sonny’s phone and the undercover BNDG agent serving as the table dealer), the Prince placed his hand on Sonny’s lap and rubbed his thigh playfully.
“You’ve been quite the good luck charm, I must say,” the Prince said in perfect, but heavily accented English. “I won big tonight thanks to you. Perhaps you’d like to come back to my suite and we can celebrate my winnings privately?” Security gave a stern frown, but the Prince waved it away.
“I would enjoy that very much, Your Highness,” Sonny said. He took the Prince’s hand and gently moved it up his thigh, bringing it to rest right on top of his nether regions.
“Yes, I can see that you would,” the Prince chuckled. He turned to his guards and said “Cash out for me, please” before taking Sonny’s hand and walking up the private VIP stairs into the Presidential Suites.
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As soon as they made it into the Prince’s suite and closed it behind them, the Prince attacked Sonny like he was a gourmet meal. He shoved Sonny against the wall and kissed him passionately, stripping off Sonny’s suit jacket and shirt at the same time. Sonny was a little taken aback by this. The Prince’s dossier never mentioned him being sexually assertive. Maybe it was the booze and the thrill of winning? At any rate, his subsequent romp with the prince was very fun, Sonny had to admit. He was an eager and energetic bottom, and quite playful. But things took an unexpected turn when, after about an hour, the Prince leaned in, nibbled Sonny’s ear and whispered, “You’re even better than I hoped. I have to thank BDNG for sending you after me.”
Sonny sat up with a jolt, but the Prince just chuckled. “Oh don’t worry,” he said, putting his mouth on Sonny’s right pec and licking seductively down his chest and abs. “I know who you are. And what you are. Your agency wants the date and location of the arms deal, no? Well, I could tell you, but I have something more fun in mind. Let’s see how good you are at interrogation…” Sonny shuddered as the Prince’s tongue reached the base of his shaft, stopping just short of his throbbing genitals. He looked down and caught the Prince’s gaze, but then the Prince turned his head. Sonny followed his sightline and saw what the Prince was looking at: his silk tie draped over the sideboard and the full ice bucket beside it.
With a wry smile, Sonny slid out of bed and grabbed the Prince’s tie. He placed it between his teeth and crawled back on all fours across the bed like a stalking tiger. The Prince licked his lips and moaned as Sonny gingerly positioned his hands behind his back and began to bind them in place with the expensive silk necktie.
“The first step in interrogation is to make sure your subject is properly restrained,” he growled seductively as he pulled the silk bonds snugly around the Prince’s wrists. “And not just to keep them secure. If done correctly, it can be quite sensual and pleasurable. There are other ways to extract information besides torture, you know.” The Prince gasped and purred with each loop of silk imprisoning his wrists. Sonny could tell he was savoring the delicate feel of the fabric against his flesh. After he secured the last knot, Sonny leaned in and started kissing the Prince’s neck from behind, rubbing his chest over his shoulders. The Prince mewled and let out a long, breathy “ooooooooh, that’s good. You have magic hands.”
Sonny chuckled at the compliment, then reached over and grabbed an ice cube from the bucket. He placed the freezing block against the Prince’s chest, making him shiver with pleasure and expectation. With aching slowness, Sonny dragged the cube down the Prince’s body, watching the waves ripple out as the cold sensation moved. He made sure to take extra care with the Prince’s nipples, which his dossier said were especially sensitive. The Prince spasmed with joy as his nipples hardened and his cock began to throb and bounce.
Sonny reached down over the Prince’s shoulder. “Now, Your Highness, let’s discuss that arms deal,” he growled. But just before he took hold of the Prince’s cock to begin the teasing, edging strokes, the Prince stopped him.
“Wait,” he said, biting his lip in expectation. “I have some more toys in the bathroom. I would be much more… pliable if you used them on me.”
Sonny grinned and slinked off the bed. “I’ll be right back, Your Highness,” he said, licking his lips. “Don’t go anywhere.” With a slow, deliberate walk that gave the prince full view of his rock-hard ass, Sonny sauntered into the bathroom. The bath suite was more like it. It was as large as his entire apartment! There was a giant hot tub on a raised platform on one side, hidden by a drawn curtain, and several walk-in linen closets. “Nice hot tub. We’ll have to use that later.” He saw all sorts of expensive artwork and fixtures in the suite, but what he didn’t see was the Prince’s toys. “Hmmm,” Sonny thought, “that’s odd. You’d think they’d be right here the way he was talking. Wait? What was that?”
From inside the hot tub, Sonny heard a small grunt. Then a low mumble. His spy senses firing to life, Sonny grabbed a pair of scissors from the sink counter and slowly made his way up the stairs to the hot tub. Readying the scissors for action, he grabbed the curtain and threw it back.
Inside the hot tub, mercilessly hogtied with thin polymer ropes and stuff gagged with thick silk handkerchiefs was… Prince Rupert? What?!? The young heir’s toned body was crisscrossed in ropes that held his hands and feet immobile and his arms secured fast to his sides. His legs were pressed tight together and held with the sturdy cables as well. The Prince frantically grunted and screamed through his gag as Sonny stood frozen in shock. He shook himself back into business mode and brought the scissors around to free the prince from his bonds, but stopped. “Wait,” the thought. “If this is Prince Rupert, then who is tied up in the bedroom?”
Before Sonny could finish that thought, a massive figure emerged behind him out of one of the linen closets and grabbed him in a vice-grip bearhug. Sonny was naturally fit and strong, and his might was honed by his intensive agent workout routine, but caught off-guard as he was, he couldn’t summon up enough strength to break free. The scissors fell uselessly out of his hand and clanked against the tile floor. He began to struggle valiantly in a futile attempt to break his unseen attacker’s grip, but it was no use. Whoever had him was titanically strong. He had only known one man who had that much strength…
“Chuy!” Sonny spat as he struggled.
His massive attacker dragged him back down the stairs to the floor of the bathroom. “Aw, you guessed!” came a heavily accented voice in his ear. Before Sonny could react further, a colossal hand clamped over his face, pressing a wet rag over his mouth and nose. Sonny tried to hold his breath but a squeeze from his assailant forced him to breathe in and he got a lungful of the sickly sweet vapors. His eyes began to flutter and he felt himself weakening. With his diminishing awareness, Sonny heard someone entering from the bedroom and Chuy spun him around, still holding the cursed rag over his face, to see the new arrival.
The fake Prince, who had managed to free his hands, stood in the doorway. The silk tie was draped alluringly over his shoulders, hanging down over his sculpted bare pecs. His feet were also bare, but he had put on his discarded pants before coming in. The false prince strutted over to Sonny, who was trapped in Chuy’s iron grip and powerless to escape. Sonny felt his muscles being sapped of all strength and his vision darkening as the imposter reached out and rubbed his chest. In a heavy Argentinian accent, he said, “Soon I will pay you back for what happened in Buenos Aires…”
“Carlito!” Sonny gasped. In his shock, he breathed in a heavy whiff of the fumes from the rag over his face and everything went dark.
Coming Soon: Chapter 2 – So Near, Yet So Far