Date: Thu, 31 May 2001 03:18:27 EDT From: Bwstories8@aol.com Subject: Finding Love - chapter 11 Legal Notice: The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts. The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality. Don't read this story if: **You're not 18 or over, **If it is illegal to read this type of material where you live, **Or if you don't want to read about gay/bi people in love or having sex. The author retains copyright to this story. Placing this story on a website or reproducing this story for distribution without the author's permission is a violation of that copyright. Legal action will be taken against violators. I wish to extend my thank you to Ed for his editorial assistance with this chapter. If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me at http://www.teenboyauthors.org/thewolf, in the 'Other Stories' section. E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other 'constructive' comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com. * * * * * * * * Finding Love - by BW Copyright 2000 by billwstories Chapter 11 - The hounds that money can buy. May 2000 We sat alone on the ground for a few hours, not daring to move around too much for fear of making too much noise. It had been several hours since our friend left when the door to the root cellar opened again. We saw his legs come down the ladder; once again he was carrying two plates. He walked over toward us and shoved the plates under our noses. They had the same type food we had earlier and some beans. He pointed toward the beans and he said "frijol". Frijol...I guess that means beans. Then he pointed at the other item and said "tortilla". Tortilla? Tad and I looked at each other in surprise. It didn't look like any tortilla I've ever had before. He put his first two fingers and his thumb together, pointed it toward his mouth, and said "comer". I think that meant for us to eat. He smiled and watched us consume our food for a short time before he said "bueno" and then he turned around to leave. He whispered "adios" as he climbed the ladder and just before he closed the door to our hideout. We finished our meal and sat the plates over by the ladder. We were totally bored, but we knew that we didn't dare leave the safety of our sanctuary. We decided that we should try to play one of our fantasy adventures to pass the time. Tad suggested that we should pretend to be Greek or Roman brothers who were hiding out from slave traffickers who sought to make a profit off our misery. This wouldn't be all that different from our current situation, except it would give us other things to talk about. Now we could discuss the Greek and Roman gods, the types of things that would have happened during those times, and wars or battles that would have taken place back then. It seemed like a good diversion. We kept our voices low and we temporarily got away from our current situation. It was actually quite an enjoyable diversion. We spent our time telling each other what it was like growing up during that period, what it had been like serving as child slaves before we ran away, and what we expected our lives would be like if we avoided capture or if we were captured. We came up with many interesting ideas and we became more sensitive to what it would have been like living in a much simpler time, with only a primitive technology. Our being brothers during our adventures led to much touching, hugging, and even kissing. Any accomplishment or minor victory would demand some sort of physical contact and we were more than happy to play our roles. It soon led us to the point where we knew that we would need some sexual relief, so I made the first move. I grabbed the bottle of wine and poured a little in my hand. I used it to rub around Tad's private parts, cleansing them a little before I tried to take him in my mouth. We were both so dirty from living naked and sleeping on a dirt floor that I had to try to get it partially clean before we did anything. The alcohol would also kill any microscopic creatures that might have taken up residence there. I put more wine in my hand and I made sure that I skinned back the foreskin to get to the glans and cleaned that as well. I did not know what might have accumulated beneath its protective folds and I didn't really want to take any chances. As soon as he was washed off, I bent forward and took his stiffening cock in my mouth. The taste of the mixture of wine and left over dirt was strange, but I didn't let it stop me. It had been too long and we both needed this. Skipping the foreplay, I went straight down his shaft until I held it entirely in my mouth. As I lifted back up and then started back down, I let my lips drag his foreskin back so his deep red helmet would be exposed. I pulled back up lightly, so the hood stayed rolled back, and I let my tongue dart around and across the spongy, sensitive crown. He stifled a yelp, knowing that it might lead to our discovery, but I continued to tongue that responsive area on every upward movement. Sometimes I would have to stick my tongue into the opening in the extra flesh, just so I could stimulate the tender surface beneath. Tad was really squirming now, enjoying my manipulations of his pride and joy. Now I was letting my lips run up and down the sides of his erection, my tongue wandering along behind my lips, and I was sucking ravenously on every up stroke. The fingers of one of my hands were playing his ball bag, rolling his marbles playfully around, and tactilely stimulating him even more. It was like having a candy cane at Christmas as I tongued and slurped on his throbbing pole, and a sweeter candy I've never known. I continued to rise and fall on that marvelous piece of flesh until I could hear Tad begin to pant and I readied myself to receive the creamy filling. The first ribbon of cum spurted from his slit and slammed into the back of my throat. It slid down easily, just before the next volley coated my tonsils. Greedily, I continued to siphon his hose, taking each and every blast as if it was the first, and I swallowed every drop that he had to offer. I didn't want to release it, even when it could offer no more of his seed, but I finally let it drop from my mouth. Then I moved up, kissed Tad fully and deeply, and I hugged him tightly to my chest. It took Tad several minutes to recuperate from the lingering effects of his release, but soon he wanted to do the same thing for me. He also used the wine to cleanse my boyhood before he plied it with his mouth. Once it was free of the accumulation of filth, Tad took my boner willingly and with great gentleness. He let his tongue play with the surface of my rigid shaft, playfully touching the exterior and teasing the tiny mouth at the top with the tip of his oral muscle. This attention was sending shockwaves along my mast, jolts that rippled throughout the rest of my body. Then he added the attention of his hand to my testicles and the pleasure just intensified. After carrying on like that for several minutes, Tad let my meat slip between his lips and he slowly lowered his head until his nose was in my pubes. My hard-on was enveloped in the warm, moist lining of his mouth, with his tongue sliding around the one side of my rod. I was lost in the all-encompassing wonders of this temporary safe haven and the marvelous feeling that surrounded my hard-on. As he began to bob up and down on my pole, adding a powerful suction as he continued, I could feel the tightness building in my loins, signaling the early stages of my sexual fulfillment. As the pressure continued to build in my scrotum and the bolts of electricity started to increase in frequency and intensity, Tad worked harder and harder to give me my needed release. When I had reached that point when I couldn't delay the inevitable any longer, I gave way to my needs and let my penis explode, shooting bullets of my hot juices. They repeatedly filled Tad's hungry mouth, only to disappear down his digestive tract until my gun fell silent, having run out of ammunition. Tad made sure that he drained my wand completely, licked my tube clean, and lovingly released it to fall along my thigh. He moved in beside me, kissed me all over my face, and he wrapped himself tightly around my body. When I came out of my sexual stupor, brought on by such an intense release, I placed my arms around him as well. We cuddled together on the old blanket the Mexican had provided us and we fell asleep. It was now long after the last rays of sunlight had disappeared and we were soon in a state of oblivion, that nightly journey to a place somewhere between life and death. Another night had ended and we had spent one more day away from those we loved. We woke the next morning to the sounds of multiple vehicles, people shouting in Spanish, and the echo of whistles from all directions. We had no idea what was going on in the village above and we were more than frightened, thinking about what would happen to us if our whereabouts was discovered. We backed ourselves into the corner located on the same wall as the ladder, but farthest from it. We scrunched into the area where the two walls met, threw the blanket over our heads, covered our bodies, and clung to one another's trembling frame. The sound of voices kept getting closer and closer, and our fear grew proportionately. Our hearts were beating furiously and we could hear the sounds of the rhythm of our beating hearts, as the blood flow pulsed through our ears. Our breathing was rapid and shallow and, with the blanket over our heads, the collection of carbon dioxide was probably the only thing that kept us from hyperventilating. Our skin was cool and clammy to touch, as we both found out when we began to cling to each other, and I thought that I was going to pee my pants, or worse, when I heard the door of the root cellar thrown open. We both held our breath, so the intruder wouldn't see any movement under the blanket, and we hoped that our body tremors wouldn't be noticeable. Through the blanket we could see that a light had been shone on the area where we were and then we could hear the sounds of someone coming down the ladder. We heard the person kicking things as he moved around the cellar, and we could make out the sound of his boots on the dirt floor as he moved in our direction. Suddenly the blanket was ripped away, revealing our presence, and we found ourselves staring up into the face of an armed soldier. He grabbed a whistle out of his shirt pocket and he began to blow on it vigorously. Then he moved over to the ladder, climbed up until his head was above the opening, he started shouting things in Spanish, and then he began to blow his whistle. Before long there were two other people in the hole with us and several more standing around the entrance, looking down into our current prison. One of the men who came down was obviously an officer and he spoke a recognizable form of English. "You hide very good, cause much problems," he said to us. "Come to me." I think that he meant that he wanted us to follow him, because he turned and climbed up the ladder. The other two men pulled us up and pushed us forward, indicating that they wanted us to follow their leader. Reluctantly, we did as they bade and we climbed the ladder up into the daylight. When we reached the surface we were grabbed by two other soldiers and we saw our host being held between another pair of military men. The officer came toward us and spoke. "He help you, yes?" he said pointing at the figure of our former benefactor. "No," replied Tad bitterly. "Where you get clothes and dishes?" he asked pointing at our pants and the two plates being held by one of his subordinates. "We stole them," I answered flatly. "We sneaked up late at night or just before dawn and we stole what we needed." He eyed us like he didn't believe what we told him or maybe he didn't understand what we said. Then he moved over to our Mexican host. I didn't understand what he said to him, as they spoke in Spanish, but I think that he was trying to trick him into confessing by saying that we told him that he had aided us. Our accomplice seemed to hold his own and he must have insisted that he didn't realize that we were using his root cellar as a hiding place. I gather that he must have been convincing, because they allowed him to leave and go back into his hut. The officer barked out something to his troops and we were dragged out to the street, led down the road, and soon we were approaching our former place of captivity. Another soldier ran ahead of us and into the small building, and he was soon followed back out by Sovie and Diego. "These are the missing man childs you look for, no?" the officer asked Sovie. "Yes, these are my stepsons," Sovie replied. "No, we're not," I screamed. "This man kidnapped us and forced us from our homes. We don't want to be with him and we ask that you contact the American authorities to come and get us." The officer looked puzzled. I'm not quite sure that he understood what I tried to tell him and he looked toward Sovie for an explanation. "El Capitan, I married their mother, but the boys do not like me. They are unhappy that I brought them down here for a visit. They didn't want to leave their friends for the summer." "He only married my mother, not Tad's. We aren't down here for a visit, either. He has stolen us and he plans to sell us to some rich Arab." "I'm sorry, El Capitan. The boy is an awful liar. I thank you for your assistance and I will take care of them from now on. Here is a little something for your time and effort." Sovie slipped the captain a wad of Mexican bills and the man put them into his pocket. Next, he bellowed out some orders and the soldiers began scurrying back to their vehicles. Sovie and Diego led us into our temporary jail and closed the door behind us. Nothing more was said until we heard the sounds of the military vvehicles starting up and then we could hear the sounds fade as they drove out of sight. "You little bastards have cost me a lot of valuable time and money," Sovie spat out vehemently. "Diego, hold the little pricks while I give them a shot, and then you can go signal the driver that we're ready to leave. We've got to get moving to keep up my appointment." Diego grabbed the back of our necks tightly so he could squeeze them and cause us a great deal of pain if we struggled, while Sovie dug a needle and small bottle out of a leather kit. He filled the hypodermic with the contents from the bottle, rubbed some alcohol onto our arms with a cotton swab, and jabbed the needle into our upper arms. We were soon feeling quite drowsy and neither of us remembered anything else until we came to in the back of an old truck. For a while, all we could see was the cloud of dust that was kicked up by our passing, but later we could see other vehicles following us or going in the opposite direction. Sometime later we realized that we were getting closer to a populated area. It wasn't much longer before our truck pulled to a stop, the engine was turned off, and we were dragged from the truck. We stood in front of what appeared to be a motel and then we were rushed into one of the rooms by our captors. Diego and Sovie quickly gave us our instructions. "The bathroom is there and you have fifteen minutes to wash yourselves or each other. I want you squeaky clean and looking human by the time you come out, or one of us will take you back in and rewash you. I don't think either of you will want that to happen, so do it right the first time." We were pushed into the tiny bathroom and we looked around quickly. There was much to see. I walked over to the tub, turned on the shower, and we took off our oversized pants. We stepped under the trickle of water and let it soak us thoroughly before we began to lather up. I can't describe how great that flow of warm clean water felt on our skin, skin that had not been cleaned completely in many months. As some of the surface dirt began to rinse off and disappear down the drain, we took the soap and began to wash each other tenderly, removing the more stubborn grunge that clung to our flesh. We soaped up and rinsed off several times before you could see the pale color of our original complexions. Now we focused on cleaning the tangled rat's nest that some would call our hair. We cleaned it as well as we could but it was so tangled and matted that it would be impossible to get it looking good without assistance. Sovie was soon banging on the door, telling us that our time was nearly up. I felt that he had given us longer than fifteen minutes, as he knew it would take us quite a long time to rid our bodies of the accumulation of filth that had built up. I assumed that his time limit was merely a motivational tool to get us to move along as quickly as we could. We dried off and exited into the common area, with the towels wrapped around our waists. We had thrown the white trousers in the trash, once we had taken them off. "Not bad," Sovie remarked, while looking us over. "We'll have to do something about that hair, however." Sovie took Diego aside and whispered something in his ear before Diego exited the door to the outside. I was trying to formulate another escape attempt when Diego reentered and ruined the opportunity. "Everything is set and we're ready to leave as soon as you are," Diego told Sovie. "Terrific. Get these two loaded back into the truck and let's be on our way." We were placed back into the back of the truck and soon we were on our way to somewhere new. We had only traveled ten or fifteen minutes before we arrived at our destination. It was a small but modern airstrip, location unknown to us. We were dragged over to a small jet and I noticed that it had my father's corporate logo on the fuselage. He was using the company jet to do this evil deed. We were pushed up the small flight of stairs leading to the cabin and forced inside. We were directed to a pair of adjoining seats, told to sit down, and we were quickly handcuffed and strapped into place. The jet sat in that same spot for a while; the pilot hadn't even started the engines, and nothing was happening within the cabin. Then Sovie reentered the plane with a Mexican man behind us. The Mexican carried a small bag and he placed it on the seat across the aisle from us. He pulled out a large barber's bib, wrapped it around my neck, and he fastened it. He took out a pair of scissors and a comb from the bag, and then he began to cut my hair. He cut it real short, probably to avoid all of the tangles that snarled the bulk of my hair, but you could still tell the color of my locks when he was finished. He took a bottle out, sprinkled its contents over my head, and then he rubbed it into my scalp. When he was finished, he moved over and did the same thing to Tad. After he had completed cutting Tad's hair, he swept up the clippings, packed up, and left the plane. Sovie handed him some money as he left the plane, and the door to the jet was closed soon thereafter. I looked over at Tad and I was impressed by how much better he looked, just from that simple act. He was once again the boy whom I had met, who remembers how long ago, instead of the little savage that we had begun to look like, the longer we were held in captivity. I quickly scanned Tad's naked body and I began to realize that he wasn't a boy any longer. He was growing, maturing, and changing in numerous ways. Although we were both skinny, you could see that his chest was filling out. He was now taller than when we had first been kidnapped and his feet were getting bigger, as well as another part of his body that I was even more interested in. You could see hair sprouting on different parts of his body and you could see the beginning of the faint outline of a moustache forming on his upper lip. There was a fine down where his sideburns would be and there was a light coating on his arms and legs. There was the beginning of hair in his armpits and the sprinkling of hair that had sprouted above his dick was starting to form a cute little horseshoe. I had almost missed noticing these changes and I wondered if I looked the same to him. I hadn't long to ponder this train of thought, as the jet's engines started and the others sat down and buckled themselves into their seats. Soon the plane started moving and we taxied down the runway for takeoff. We all knew where we were heading. I know that I was scared to death and I assume that Tad felt the same way. We were being flown to the Middle East, we were going to be sold to some rich Arab, we were going to be used like sex toys, and we would probably never see our families again. My stomach was in knots, my heart was racing, and my breathing was quick and ragged. Why doesn't the cavalry storm up, stop the plane, rescue us, and take us back to our parents? What happened to Dean and his offer to help? Did Sovie find out about that and stop him...or even worse, kill him? Was he able to tell anyone about us? Does anyone know that we're still alive or have they all given up on us? Is there any hope for our future or must we resign ourselves to a life of being a sexual plaything for a very rich man? The jet sped down the runway, the nose began to lift, and soon we were in the air. I didn't want to look out the window as that would only depress me further, knowing that we were leaving behind all chances of being rescued. I noticed that Tad wasn't looking either. He would look down at the floor, glance over at me, and then he would scan the interior of the plane. I don't know if he thought that the posse would storm out of the cockpit to rescue us or not, but whatever he was looking for was not to materialize. I tried to talk to Tad during the flight, but we could find nothing to talk about in front of the others. No matter how hard we tried or how much we wanted to, we could think of nothing to say that would make us forget about our situation. We finally settled back and tried to sleep. This would have been one time we would have welcomed Sovie giving us a tranquilizer and making us miss most of the flight. We were not that fortunate, but we did manage to sleep through part of the flight. I'm not sure how many hours the flight lasted, but it seemed like it went on forever. When we began to think that we would run out of fuel before we reached our destination, the pilot announced for the others to return to their seats and to prepare for landing. We could feel the jet begin its descent, slowly dipping us below the clouds and toward the sandy surface of this part of the world. We continued to drop lower and lower until we felt the impact of the wheels hitting the tarmac and the jet's engines being thrown into reverse. We taxied over to an isolated terminal, as the pilot moved us into position to disembark, and we knew that there was nothing left for us but to accept the inevitability of the fate that was now ours. * * * * * * * * If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me at http://members.tripod.de/wolfslair, in the 'Other Stories' section. E-mails may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com.