Date: Sat, 20 May 2017 18:07:07 -0700
From: Boy Mercury X <boymercuryx@gmail.com>
Subject: Full Fathom Five Part 3

This story is an entirely fictional work of adult erotic fantasy, involving
consensual sexual relations between related persons.

PLEASE NOTE: This particular story includes disturbing plot and theme
elements including manipulation, coercion and worse.

Copyright me 2017.

If you're under the age of majority in your jurisdiction, please come back
when you're of legal age.

If you'd like a soundtrack for this story, please consider Blind by
Hercules & Love Affair, and Beautiful by Blowoff.

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Email Boy Mercury X at boymercuryx@gmail.com - I really love to hear from
you.



FULL FATHOM FIVE, ACT THREE by Boy Mercury X

1.

It was impossible to contain my anxiety, now knowing Dad might not only be
alive, but so close to us, just a few miles away on an island compound in
Puget Sound.  I was maybe a little full of myself, after five years of
being the lone hold out believing he was out there, and now going to rescue
him with his one time undercover partner Tony.

Tony reiterated that what we were doing we were doing without agency
sanction or knowledge, and that we might not make it out ourselves.  But we
both knew that as his partner and his son, if he was truly held captive by
the Algiers sex trafficking ring, the same people who used him as a child,
this was a sacred mission, and ours alone.

Just the same, Tony took precautions.  He reestablished his dormant cover
identity as a perv high tech multimillionaire.  And he set timed email
communications to other undercover agents.  If we didn't make it back
within three days to deactivate the messages, they'd send, detailing what
we did. In that event, we'd probably be dead ourselves.

Lying to Mom was the hardest. There was no way she could think I was going
away with Tony.  So he left home on a fake go-away mission, but really
moved to a motel out of town.  Two days later I staged my return to school
from spring break, pretending to have a ride with as friend.

I met Tony at the motel and set everything in motion.  Tony reached out to
Algiers, wanting a weekend at the island for his himself and his son -- me
for the boy's 20th birthday.  I couldn't believe it was really happening.

"Kid," he said to me, "you have got to fucking swear to follow my lead.  No
matter what happens, no matter what you see or learn, we both have to play
it cool. "

"I understand."

"Ah Jesus Christ, I know you think you do, but you don't.  The fuck am I
doing taking a dumb kid into this?"

"Tony, I swear.  I can do it."

"Will, no crazy.  No emotion.  If we find anything real, we come back with
agents.  This is just reconnaissance.  If you pull anything and we get
killed, it does your old man no good at all, understand?"

I nodded yes.

"I see you getting emotional, breaking character, whatever, this is your
reminder to rein it in," he said, and ran his finger back and forth along
the left side of his jaw.  "You see that, you snap to.  You gotta' remember
we are playing characters here. "

"I remember."

"You have to trust me."

"I trust you Tony.  I do."

Tony shook his head and said, "You look so much like him, it's really hard
sometimes.  Feels like the old days on a job together with your dad."

I liked hearing that I was like my dad.  I knew I'd need it.


2.

Tony made me jerk off before we went, because the sex stuff at the Algiers
club would be crazy, and better to not get off your game because you're
aroused.  I asked Tony why he didn't jerk off too, and he said it was
because he wasn't a twenty-year-old kid with a non-stop boner.

We drove to a designated meeting spot, my heart racing the whole time.  We
were met there by men in flawless black suits who ushered us into as
limousine to take us to our destination.  The windows were darkened to
pitch black from the interior so we couldn't see where we were or where we
were going, but before too long I knew we were out in the water.  Growing
up in the area I'd been on enough ferries to know the sensations of being
in a car boarding, crossing the sound and eventually disembarking at what I
knew must be the island complex of the Algiers group.

Tony wore a suit, which I only saw him do twice before, at Dad's funeral
and at his wedding to Mom.  I guess it had become his outfit for bad
days. I didn't have anything like a suit, just a pressed shirt and dress
slacks, but Tony told me no one expected a kid like me to be dressed up.

"Cheer up, son," he said, stroking his jaw, "You're going to a weekend of
non-stop fucking, not a funeral!"

At the Algiers cub, we left the car in the rain, but we were under the
shelter of a grand awning spanning a walkway and didn't get wet.  The
complex was huge, bigger than I could take in so close to it, but the
exterior was simple, making it easier to blend in with the surrounding
evergreen woods.  It made sense they'd be low profile.

The interior was something else entirely.  Think of the most high-class
place you've ever seen and multiply it by 100.  Every surface was marble or
leather or I didn't even know the name of, and not gaudy but you knew it
was there and it smelled like money.

The club was immense, and we were escorted through on the way to the lounge
for a prearranged meeting.  On the way, areas were pointed out.  There was
an arena for gladiator style fuck matches, complete with champions who
incited cheers.  There were rooms designed for every fantasy, from dungeons
to middle class kitchens to zoo cages.  There were of course guest suites
of varying degrees of luxury, and codes of conduct which like smoke
evaporated the higher they went, so the top luxury rooms had no codes of
conduct at all, only a ready team assigned for cleanup in the event of
fantasies that went out of control.

The people were dressed every way possible, all on their own trip.  Some in
tuxedos and some in sleazy outfits, some in jeans and sweaters.  The only
uniformity was in the sex slaves.  Whether they were actual slaves, or
indentured, Tony told me, they all wore black leather collars, regardless
of their state of dress or nakedness.  They otherwise were in various
states of S&M wear, some full out naked, others in leather with tits and
asses hanging out.

The collar each slave wore had a small ring that flipped, white on one side
and black on the other. This is how you could know if a slave was free.  If
the ring showed black side up the slave was taken, by another customer or
with a purpose assigned by the club. If the ring showed white side up the
slave was free, and available for your whims.  You could fuck one in the
hallway, take two or more to your room and have them do anything that
turned you on.

Showing me, Tony randomly grabbed one of the slave women with a white ring,
manhandled her breasts and sucked passionately on her nipples before
setting her loose with a slap on her ass.

"Ever see titties like those anywhere else?" he asked out loud.

"What the fuck?" I whispered between clenched teeth.

"Play the part, Will," he whispered back.  "Happy to be here, remember?'

Then he took my face in both his hands and kissed me hard and full on the
lips.

"Will," he said in a hush, our faces eye-to-eye, "try to not get me killed,
okay?"


3.

We were on our way to meet Mr. Sparrow in the lounge, a vast room of
individual round marble tables each surrounded by a ring shaped sofa, in
turn surrounded by thick glass or even aquariums, floor to ceiling with
exotic fish swimming up and down and seaweed softly waving.  Each had a
hitching post, and each an individual server dedicated to a table for the
duration of a guest's stay, to tend to all needs and to see nothing.

The effect was a sea of interconnected chambers with varying degrees of
privacy, open enough to show off your slave or your desires more or less as
you wished.  And as with the suites, the higher up the moneyed class you
moved the greater the luxury and the fewer the restrictions.  The outer
tables were smaller, the walls more often glass, and as you moved in they
grew larger and the walls increasingly filled with sea life.

We were brought to the very center station, the larges and most lavish
table of all. It had a male slave stationed at it, standing at attention,
wearing a black leather harness, leather pants with the ass exposed, black
boots, and his leather collar was loosely leashed to the hitching post.  He
wore a black mask over the whole of his head.  From behind he seemed to
have the most artful shoulder to waist proportion I'd ever seen.

Seated was an older Asian man, big, but more like Sumo wrestler than
ordinary fat.  He wore an immaculate black suit, crisp white shirt and gold
tie.  He was seated with a number of younger men who all wore plainer but
no less crisp suits and black ties, and Tony told me those were his
bodyguards.

Tony nodded to him and said with his head still slightly bowed,
"Mr. Sparrow."

"Mr. Anthony," said Mr. Sparrow, beaming a smile up from seated position.
"So good to have you return to us."

"Mr. Sparrow," said Tony, bowing slightly, "it's good to return.  This is
my boy, Will."

Sparrow smiled at me, drawing my attention fully.  "Ah the young prince,"
he said, "Welcome!  Welcome my fine boy.  Sit, sit."

Tony and I were seated across from each other, with Sparrow's bodyguards
between us and their master.  The aquarium walls surrounding our table were
even more remarkable than the rest, filled with huge pieces of living
coral, oysters and strangely colored fish slowly gliding.  The throbbing
house music of the lounge was lower here, but still beat softly.

"I imagine you've never seen anything quite like this," Sparrow said to me.

"It's a lot to take in," I answered.  I paused and looked around and said,
"I know this song -- it's by Blowoff. I listen to it all the time."

Sparrow just nodded, and Tony said to him, "Very kind of you to meet with
us personally."

"There are no guests more precious to me tonight. I'm pleased to have you
returned to us, unburdened by the unpleasantness of past events.  And for
your ward, get them young and the possibilities are endless, as they say."

Sparrow had such gravity he commanded our attention, his bodyguards and
servers, the music, the debauchery around us fading into the background.

"Refreshments are served," said Sparrow, waving to a selection of drinks
served in crystal on our table.  "Let us enjoy some of the unique pleasures
of our island home."

Sparrow reached down to unzip his pants, looked up to the leather clad
slave attending our station and said "Calvin, come."

I looked at the slave, his shape and size, the patterns of body hair and
the small third nipple.

"Dad?"


4.

"Yes Will," said Tony firmly, drawing my attention, stroking his jaw again
to his signal to me to keep calm, keep our cover.

"Nothing," I said, struggling to pull myself back into character.  I knew
that as hard as it was, we had to keep cool or we'd never rescue Dad.  "Can
I, can I drink too?"

"Be my guest," said Sparrow, wrangling his erection out of his pants.  "All
pleasures are to be had at my table."

I kept wondering if I was dreaming or intoxicated or if my eyes were just
lying, but it was him, it was really my father.  In the form fitting black
mask that exposed only his mouth, he moved blindly toward the table,
feeling around with his hands while the bodyguards chuckled at him.  He
then dropped to his knees before Sparrow, feeling out his way with his
hands on the older man's thick thighs.

I could see the mask has not even a nose or ears, just two tiny plugs that
must insert into his nostrils.  He was stripped of all identity, just a
mouth that gaped looking for Sparrow's cock, and when he did he swallowed
it whole, burying it deep in his throat.

"I thought you ran to more, eh, feminine tastes," Tony said to Sparrow, as
he watched my enslaved father service the erection as if it were his whole
life, moving up the full length to lick the head and then plunging down to
swallow again and again.

"It's 2017, Mr. Anthony," said Sparrow, "and Algiers is nothing if not
current.  Even many of our most traditional guests acknowledge there is
something special to be had in the throat of the male of the species.  And
Calvin is so gifted."

"Is he, um, a little old?" Tony asked.

"Calvin is in the peak of manhood," said Sparrow, inhaling deeply and
spreading his legs wider as he enjoyed deeply housing his cock in a deep
throat.  "This peak comes at about the age, where the vigor of youth crests
up against the masculinity of age.  It is a brief time, alas, but splendid
when it occurs."

Sparrow wrapped his big meaty hands around my Dad's head and shoved it
down, forcing him to choke as all airways were cut off by Sparrow's cock
and black pubes.  I started to rise from my seat, but Sparrow released his
hold, and Dad bobbed up for air, but immediately plunged back down.

Sparrow then became engrossed in the service on his cock, and began to
thrust with his hips until he groaned deep and low, and his balls pumped
out cum with incited Dad to swallow more vigorously, suck the semen out of
his master with singular focus.


5.

His slave nursed on his Sparrow's cock until he was told enough by his
master, who had him lean back, still on his knees.  He unzipped the hood
and peeled it of, to reveal the face I had thought so long on, Dad.

He looked older than when I last saw him, but without injury.  His hair was
shaved short, just a little longer on top, and that mussed and sweaty from
being under the hood.  The real difference was the vacant lifeless look in
his face, as if it was Dad's body but he was not present at all.  Even the
sight of me there did not register at all.

"Is he not splendid?" asked Sparrow, having his showpiece stand at display.
"Did ever one of the great masters immortalize such a form in stone?"  He
then looked directly at me and asked, "Young prince, do you know the
difference between great art and a masterpiece?"

I nodded no.

"Restraint.

"Singular beauty is a fragile balance achieved only through the discipline
of restraint.

"Look at Bernini's greatest works, and your eyes will defy your reasoning
mind. You will believe Hades fingertips are truly pressed into the living
flesh of Persephone, though they are cold marble.  How do you think this is
achieved?  Restraint.  Not one shave more of the stone, not one less.

"Let us take Calvin here.  Many would build him out more, to the point of
vulgarity.  But today his is near perfection."  He ran his hand over Dad's
abs, then traced around the nearest nipple.

"Not only in form, but in experience as well. Some would use one such as
Calvin until each event was merely another in a series of unending
sameness, deadening the experience.  Instead, I keep Calvin for more
special purposes, so he truly feels each.  It is more satisfying that way.

"As a species we seek perfection, but we ruin it because of wanton excess,
because we do not have the discipline of restraint."  I took as much of my
drink as I could, struggling to restrain my fury and my desire, stupid as I
knew it to be, to grab Dad by the hand and run.

"Calvin is a special prize," continued Sparrow.  "He was born to Algiers,
as have been his ancestors since the days of the Roman Empire. Whores and
whoresons all, even in our most humble days, before the splendor you know
now as Algiers.

"But this one slave was taken from us some decades ago, early in my employ
in Algiers. It is rare, very rare, to lose one of our own, as we did with
Calvin.  But imagine the singular fortune of having once lost him, years
later to regain him.  Now that is a prize!"

Sparrow laughed, as did his bodyguards.

He then turned his attention to Tony, and said, "Mr. Anthony, I extend
Calvin to you, in recognition of this momentous visit.  Calvin, serve our
guest as if he were me."

As Tony unzipped his pants, a sly eager smile spread over his face, and he
said "Don't mind if I do!"


6.

What the fuck was Tony playing?  I know we were supposed to be in
character, but we were there to rescue Dad, not this.

Oblivious to my growing anxiety, Tony pulled out his thick cock and looked
on in great anticipation as Dad knelt between his legs.  In a single motion
Dad bowed and swallowed Tony's cock whole, taking it in his throat to the
root.

"Holy fuck," Tony gasped.

Tony's face read amazement and satisfaction as his former partner swallowed
his cock, his throat thick with noisy phlegm that smacked against his cock.

"Oh my God, oh my fucking GOD!" he groaned, louder and more excited than he
was when I sucked him off, "In your throat Cal, take it all the way,
unnnnnfffffff...."

Everything seemed very far away, and sounds became such that in the
aquarium-lined area I felt I was underwater.  My own dick was leaking
precum in my pants, despite my confusion I reached down to wrap my hand
around my own erection.

"You are relaxing," said Sparrow to me.  "Very good.  We have introduced
some chemicals to help ease your inhibitions."

I knew he said something about chemicals, but all I cared about was the
sight of Tony aggressively battering my father's throat with his cock, and
the thick sound of choking growing increasingly distant.

When Tony shot a bounty of cum down my father's throat I didn't even care.
I slumped down on the sofa, unable to hold myself up and unconcerned about
anything, until I noticed the music.  Blind, a song I knew well.

How funny that earlier the music was by Blowoff, and now Hercules & Love
Affair, another song on my own playlist. I laughed at the coincidence and
stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Young Mister Miranda?" said Sparrow, "You are amused?"

"Where's your music from?" I muttered with slow numb lips, oblivious to my
own state.

"From your laptop," said Tony, now standing over me beside Mr. Sparrow,
tucking his dick back into his pants.  He looked into my face and patted my
cheek.

"Sorry kid," said Tony, "You're fucked."



END, ACT THREE