Date: Sat, 18 Jul 2020 16:18:52 -0400
From: mr.evan.andrews@gmail.com
Subject: Enslaving the Renegade Chapter One (Celebrity)

Enslaving the Renegade
Chapter One: Getting In
by Evan Andrews
2020


This is a fan fiction. The story is based on one that appeared in a 1984
issue of the magazine First Hand. That story was only 3 pages long, but I
enjoyed it so that I decided to expand it and recast it in the universe of
the TV show, Renegade, starring Lorenzo Lamas. The story should in no way
be considered a true representation of the true sexuality of either the
actor or his character.

The story depicts males in sexual situations with other males. If that
offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you
are please stop reading now. Thank you.

If you enjoy this story, or even if you hate it, please contribute to
keeping Nifty going at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html



Reno Raines sat astride his idling Harley and looked through binoculars at
the ranch in the valley.  Enclosed within a perimeter wall, it was a large,
two-story adobe house, with high narrow windows to keep out the heat. An
inner wall extended from the house itself to enclose a garden and pool in
the rear, and several out-buildings including a garage were built into the
wall. It was a rich man's home, and Reno's job was to get in and find out
exactly what the rich man was doing in there.

Reno put the binoculars into the left pouch of his saddlebags and slid the
sunglasses down off his forehead before kicking the bike into life. As he
pulled out onto the dirt road, he thought about what his boss and best
friend, Bobby Sixkiller, had told him about the place.

"Something underhanded is going on in there, Reno. We think it may involve
illegal immigration somehow because people, mostly young men, come up from
south of the border and are channeled there, assuming they make it past the
border patrol. Then again, it may be much more sinister. We just don't
know. In any case, once they go into that house, we lose their trail. They
aren't there anymore, and we don't know how they leave, with whom, or for
where. Torres, the owner, is clean so far as we can tell, but it's that
kind of clean that leaves you sure there was something powerfully dirty
there just a moment before you checked."

Reno felt the thrum of the cycle both in the muscles of his thighs and in
the heavy balls that were wrapped up in the black denim of his jeans. The
wind whipped his long brown hair back off his head. Eventually the
motorcycle pulled up to the gate of the ranch, and Reno buzzed the
intercom.

"Yes," a man's voice asked.

"Vince Black. I have an appointment to meet with Mr. Torres."

The iron gate slowly opened, and Reno nudged the bike up the paved drive
towards the main house.

At the front door, Reno left the bike and rang the doorbell. A muscular
Black man with a shaved head and a goatee opened the door.

"Vince Black to see Mr. Torres."

The Black man looked him over appraisingly, and then when he had reached
whatever conclusion he was aiming for he stood back and let Reno into the
entrance hall.

"My name is Malik, Mr. Torres' butler. Please follow me."

Malik turned and led Reno through a mezzanined entrance hall to a room
towards the rear of the house. Reno professionally noted the muscles that
filled out and rippled under Malik's white trousers and silk shirt and
decided that whatever he might be, Malik was not the butler, or at least
not just the butler.

Malik left him alone for several minutes, during which time Reno checked
out the room, which appeared to be a library of sorts or study or
office. Bookshelves lined the walls, except for a bar. There was a computer
set up on an oak desk and in an alcove a large plush couch sat facing a
video and TV set up.

Torres, when he appeared, was well dressed, looking the part of a
successful, young businessman on his day off. He wore black wool pants and
the same style of white silk shirt as Malik who followed his boss in and
stood by the closed door.

"Mr. Black," Torres said, shaking his hand with a firm grip, "You work for
Bobby Sixkiller, I hear?"

"Yes, I work with Mr. Sixkiller," Reno said.

"Welcome. Can I get you a drink?"

"Just club soda, thank you."

Torres went to the bar and poured soda into two glasses, added a slice of
lime to each and turned to face Reno, a glass in each hand. He handed one
glass to Reno and then raised the other.

"To your health," he said.

Reno lifted the glass, returned the toast, and drank.

Torres motioned Reno to an easy chair and took up his own place in a
similar chair facing him.

"So, Bobby Sixkiller, eh. I've heard the name, of course. You can't be in
the kind of work I am without hearing that name. Have you worked for him
long?"  Torres asked.

He was watching Reno closely, like he was waiting for some sort of tell.

"A few years," Reno said.

"Doing?"

"Doing whatever needs to be done. You might call me a jack-of-all-trades."

"I might at that. Yes."

Torres looked over his glass at Reno.

"You're perspiring, is it too hot for you in here?"

Reno reached up and brushed the back of a hand over his forehead, pushing
his hair back. It came away wet. How had he missed that he was sweating
that much?

Reno looked up, confused, at Torres who was watching him with all the
patience and interest of a cat.

"I'm sorry," Reno said, "I can't think why I should be this hot."

"It's the jacket," Torres replied, "Malik, how could you have been so
forgetful. Mr. Black, why don't you stand up, and Malik will take your
jacket to hang up."

"It's all right, really," Reno said, standing up all the same, "I mean I
only have a muscle shirt on underneath. I wouldn't want..."

"No problem at all," Torres said as Malik came up behind Reno, "It must
have been the long ride up here through the desert."

"Yes, the desert," Reno agreed weakly, shrugging the leather jacket off his
shoulders while Malik took it and folded it over his arm. The black muscle
shirt clung to his damp torso and showed off every muscle perfectly.

Torres came closer and, looking at Reno, said, "You're drenched through
with sweat. I tell you what, strip out of those clothes and we can move
this conversation out to the pool."

"Strip?" Reno said, "I don't..."

Torres reached out his right hand and placed it on Reno's muscular chest;
then he moved it slowly down over the stomach towards Reno's crotch. He
then held the hand up to where Reno could see and smell it.

"See, you're soaked right through. I can lend you a suit if you're shy, but
get out of those clothes right now. I insist."

Without thinking, Reno reached down and pulled the muscle shirt first out
of his pants and then over his head. Malik caught that too as he let it
drop. Then he sat down in the easy chair and pulled off one boot and then
the other, followed by his socks. Finally, he stood up again and unsnapped
and unbuttoned his jeans. He slowly slid them over his thighs and let them
drop to the floor where he kicked them aside. For some reason, he felt no
reluctance to be standing in front of these two strange men dressed in
nothing but wet, black briefs which clung to his body like a second skin
leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Torres was watching him now like a hungry wolf.

"All the way, man," he said, "Strip all the way."

Reno didn't even stop to think. He slid his hands under the elastic of his
briefs and pulled them down, first in the back and then in the front as
well. They fell to the floor and Reno stepped out of them, watching Torres
all the while.

Torres looked him over and said, "This is great. You are a marvel. I can
see you in any position. Give me time, and I'll show you what it really
means to be a jack-of-all-trades."

Torres reached down and cupped Reno's balls. Reno flinched, but for some
reason he didn't pull away.

"Heavy," Torres said as he hefted the fleshy orbs, "And full, I'll bet."

He brought his hand up and ran fingers along the length of Reno's tumescent
cock.

"And this. Get it hard for me. Show me what you've got."

Torres wrapped his hand around Reno's cock and stroked him. He was gentle
but brooked no denial, and Reno's meat slowly rose to its full nine
inches. Reno could only watch, amazed at the sight, as well as the
sensation, of another man masturbating him. Torres, once he had the
erection he wanted, licked his lips and went to his knees, his face only a
few inches from Reno's shaft. Still stroking, he closely examined Reno's
cock and balls, feeling them and taking in their scent.

"You a virgin?" he asked.

"No," Reno said, "I was engaged..."

"No, no details. Just answer the question. You ever have anyone suck your
dick?"

"Yeah, sure, a few times."

"You ever suck one?"

"No way. What do you think I am?"

"Right now, I think you're just a man with a huge hardon. It's what you're
going to be that interests me most."

Torres stood up and pointed at a coffee table.

"See that table? I want you to bend over and put both hands on it."

Reno took a few steps towards the table and without thinking put both his
hands on the near edge.

"Stand with your feet further apart."

Reno slid his feet a few inches further from each other, and he felt the
cool breeze from the air conditioning run up the crack of his ass. His
long, brown hair hung down into his eyes, but he could hear Malik and
Torres moving around, doing something behind him.

"Lower your shoulders and bend your knees, man. I want your ass sticking up
higher than everything else."

Reno bent his knees and let his elbows rest on the coffee table. Then he
gave a jump. Torres had put his hand on Reno's naked ass and was stroking
the muscular roundness of his butt.

"Easy, take it easy," Torres said, "All I'm doing is massaging your
ass. You like the feel of it, don't you?"

"Yeah," Reno breathed, "Rub it harder. Use both hands."

"Oh, we'll get to harder soon enough, don't worry about that."

Torres massaged Reno's ass cheeks for a while, and then, suddenly, Reno
jumped again.

Torres' lubed finger was teasing Reno's asshole, probing at it, trying to
get inside him.  Reno wriggled a little bit, but Torres put his other hand
on Reno's back and pushed him down hard so that his chest was on the
table. Malik took to rubbing Reno's shoulders, holding him down while
Torres rammed his finger all the way into Reno's virgin ass. The biker stud
could only moan as he was deflowered. Torres was learning the lay of the
land inside his ass, taking special care to find the biker stud's love nut
and massage it into a brand new world of sensations.

Torres probed for a while, making sure Reno's chute was relaxed and open,
and then pulled out and started to push his conquest further forward onto
the table. He slid some pillows under Reno's crotch and let the biker's
chest slide off the table and onto the floor. Then, after spreading Reno's
muscular legs further apart, he started his assault on the biker's ass all
over again.

"Oh god," Reno said, "Stop. I..."

"Yeah, that's right," said Torres, as he pulled out the one finger and
started in with two, "Beg me to stop finger fucking your hot ass. I like to
hear you beg."

"Please...no...it's...I..."

"Loosen that ass!" Torres commanded as three fingers made their way into
Reno's ass. Malik still held Reno down, but the biker was by now so turned
on to the sensations of the fingers opening him up that he hardly needed
the big black man's restraining presence in order to lie there and take
it. And yet he cried out again for Torres to stop.

"I'll stop when I'm good and ready. Now get your head in the game and
loosen yourself up!" Torres commanded, "You've got something more than
fingers to deal with now," and with that he took up a dildo he seemed to
have handy and slid it in Reno's ass in place of his fingers.

Reno grimaced and threw his head back, roaring at the dildo's entry.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuck!" he howled.

"Yeah," said Torres, "Take it. Take it deep, and get used to having big
hard fucking shafts pounding you hot ass."

Torres rammed the writhing Reno until he felt the stud's ass surrender to
the penetration. The minute Reno got used to the feeling of the cock in his
guts, Torres switched over to a larger one, and the game began again. The
mysterious businessman ran through a selection of dildos, the length and
girth increasing steadily as the conquest of Reno's ass progressed. Torres
fucked him faster and slower to get the greatest reaction out of the
tightly muscled ass, and he varied the angle of his probes like the most
experienced fucker in the world.

Finally he forced the largest dildo in his collection into Reno's ass and,
once it was lodged there, signaled Malik who released Reno and helped him
to stand up.

Reno was dripping with perspiration, and his whole body gleamed in response
to the ass fucking he'd just received. His own dick now jutted up hard and
dripping in front of him, and he rubbed at it absent-mindedly.

Torres pulled Reno's hand away and kissed it as he led him away from the
table over to the sofa. He helped Reno down onto the cushions, keeping his
legs spread and making sure the big dildo was still sticking out of his
ass. Torres sat down beside him and motioned to Malik who pushed a button
on a remote control.

The TV came to life, and Reno found himself watching a video of a young man
who was being tied up in various ways while a long line of men raped his
initially protesting ass. In the video Malik knelt by the boy's head and
kept up a whispered chant, "You are a slave, and your body is to be
used. Give yourself to the man fucking you."

Eventually, after God knew how many violations, the boy began reciting the
litany along with Malik.

"I am a slave..."

Soon the young man was giving himself whole-heartedly to the men taking his
ass, begging them to fuck him, to use him for their pleasure.

All through this, Torres nibbled Reno's ear and kissed his throat and, with
one hand between Reno's thighs, kept fucking him with the big dildo. When
the video ended, Torres whispered in his ear, "That's you, my
jack-of-all-trades. I want you for a sex slave."

Reno recovered his fuck-addled senses enough to push Torres away and wrench
the dildo out of his over-stretched asshole. He staggered up off the couch
and made his way over to where his clothes were folded on the easy chair.

"No way, man," he shouted, "That's it, I'm out of here. You aren't going to
make me into any fuck-boy."

He had his briefs and muscle shirt back on when Torres came up behind him
and put a hand on his shoulder. Reno wheeled around and fell into a
defensive stance.

Torres just shook his head and began to unbutton his own shirt. Reno could
only watch, dumbly, as Torres pulled the silk shirt off and tossed it over
his shoulder to Malik. He then undid his trousers and let them fall down
around his ankles. Of course, he wore nothing underneath.

Naked and hard, Torres stepped up and slowly reached a hand in through
Reno's defenses to cup his chin. With his other hand, he pushed one arm
aside and stepped in close to face Reno.

With the one hand on Reno' chin, Torres guided the biker's lips towards his
own, and, as their kiss deepened, Torres wrapped his arms around Reno and
ground his cock into the biker's crotch.

"Yes, kiss me, my sweet jack-of-all-trades," Torres husked in Reno's ear,
"Kiss me."

Reno felt Malik's strong hands sliding his muscle shirt back up over his
head, and when it was gone, he eagerly surrendered to Torres' passionate
kisses once again. The butler's hands then caressed the biker's ass and
reached between his legs to toy with his dick and balls. Eventually, Malik
disposed of Reno's briefs as well, and the biker felt his own long dick
bumping up against Torres' thick, uncut, olive cock, the two of them
grinding together as Torres steered them both back towards the couch.

Once there, Torres pushed the naked biker back on the couch in pretty much
the same position he had been in before. This time, though, he knelt down,
straddling Reno's chest, and wrapped a hand around his beefy dick, pointing
it towards the long-haired stud's lips.

"Open up, boy," he said, "It's time for you to learn what doing a man is
all about."

Reno stared at the fat shaft in wonder. He knew he was straight, but he
also knew beyond doubt that he was about to suck this man's rod. He shut
his eyes, opened his mouth, and felt the pressure on his tongue as Torres'
cock slid in. It was hard like steel, but silky smooth, and it knew what it
wanted to do. Reno let it, and when he could he tried to suck the fat
shaft.

"Oh yeah," the Latino moaned, "You've got one hot, wet mouth, boy. Use your
tongue.  Suck me good."

Reno licked and sucked and worshipped the olive meat any way he could think
of, listening as Torres corrected his technique and praised his progress as
a cock-sucker. He lost track of how long he'd actually been worshipping
Torres' shaft when the man grabbed the back of the biker's head and made
several desperate, quaky thrusts to the back of his throat causing Reno to
gag.

During the last of these plunges, Torres threw his head back and cried out.

"Yes! Take my load in your fucking mouth, boy!"

Torres spewed cum into Reno's mouth, and it ran out around his
slave-fucking cock, leaving a film of sex all over the biker's face. When
he was done shooting, he pulled his dick out and wiped it off in the
stubble of Reno's beard.

"Yeah, good boy," he said, "Now, wipe that cum all over your face before
you swallow a single drop."

Reno reached one hand and then the other up to his face and wiped Torres'
cum across his face, through his hair and finally down onto his chest. Then
he swallowed the warm salty goo. When he looked up again, Torres was
smiling.

"Now," he said, "How would you like to cum too?"

Not only did Reno want to, he was desperate to.

"Yes, please," Reno moaned, as close to begging as the remnants of his male
pride would let him, "I've got to cum. I'm so hard it hurts."

"Good. You can grab hold of your meat, but don't do a thing yet."

Reno wrapped his right hand around his cock and watched as Torres retrieved
the big dildo from the floor beside the couch.

"If you want to cum in this house, you can only do it while something long
and hard is stretching your ass. Dildo or finger or cock. You are going to
have a shaft inside you every time you cum. Got it?"

Reno nodded, desperately.

"All right then, spread your legs and relax that ass again."

The big dildo slid into Reno's hole, and Torres resumed the fucking motion
he had been using earlier. While the fat shaft filled him and explored his
insides, Reno pounded his meat with a vengeance, adding to the experience
by pulling his balls tight with his left hand. Eventually, Torres hit
Reno's prostate so many times in short succession that the biker's eyes
opened wide and his mouth pulled back in feral grin. With a howl, he shot a
huge load over his chest, and then he collapsed back into the couch.

When he opened his eyes, Torres was kneeling between his spread legs, one
hand tracing patterns in the cum on the hair of the conquered stud's chest
and stomach.

Torres felt Reno watching him and said, "There. That was jack-of-all-trades
lesson number one. I'd say we're off to a great start on your new career as
a fuck-boy. Shall we watch another video?"

Reno nodded, and Malik moved to play back another humiliating (and totally
hot) rape. In short order, Torres' fingers were back inside the biker stud
driving him towards yet another humiliating orgasm, and all the while Malik
sat beside him and recited the litany, "You are a slave, and your body is
to be used."

By the third orgasm, Reno was chanting along under his breath.

"I am a slave..."



Author's note:
This story was written back in the 90s, and I cast certain men in given
roles. You may want to imagine someone else, and that's okay. The same
caveats as to the sexuality of my cast of actors apply here.

Lorenzo Lamas (Reno): from Renegade, natch.
Malik Yoba (Malik): from New York Undercover.
Michael DeLorenzo (Torres): from New York Undercover.