Dirt

Bait

Prologue

There was a small article on page 2 of the Portland Tribune which caught the interest of Mr. Bain DuPane:

Second Abduction in as Many Days

A second boy was bagged and thrown into the back of a black Ford van in broad daylight yesterday, while walking home from school in the small suburban town of Little Water. His classmate, the only known witness, had been intensively interviewed by police, but little information was obtained. The witness said that the van was black, even the side windows. His friend had been only a few steps away when a single man, with the standard woolen stocking cap to hide his identity, simpley placed a cloth bag over his friend and tossed him inside, then jumped in with him closing the van door. The boy said it all happened so fast that he hardly had time to react until the van was already speeding away. It is not known if the young friend got the license number. A similar van (presumably the vehicle used in this abduction), stolen the day before, was found abandoned about 10 miles away, and is being combed for possible leads.

This was the second abduction in two days, said Inspector Cladell, the representative for the Portland Police Department who were called in to help with the first investigation. Little information has been uncovered in that investigation, except the abduction was nearly identical, though without the witness. That abduction had taken place only a few miles away in the town of Big Water. A van, stolen and abandoned, was also thought to be involved in that abduction. The two cases were eerily similar and some have speculated…

Bain stopped reading at that point and kept staring at the photos of the two boys who had been abducted. The similarities, included the fact that both boys were alike enough to have been brothers, though a year apart in age, he believed no coincidence. They were both quite cute, blue-eyed blonds, and of nearly the same size and looks. What had captured Bain's attention, that second photo could have been of his own son. And he was suddenly concerned since his son, whom he now realized he had not seen in a few weeks in spite of his fervent promises, lived a stone's throw away from that town. He reread the article through again but the damn paper had not included enough information on that second boy, or even about the abduction. It kept rehashing the facts concerning that first boy who was somehow related to that millionaire, Mr. Grant Kutane. Stories about abducted boys who are related to millionaires, get plastered all over the front pages of newspapers.

Of course, it wasn't the second abduction at all. In fact, it had been the fourth. There were two boys abducted that same day. The fifth boy, Greg Dahl, had been abducted from another suburb later that same day, but his abduction never made the headlines. He'd been reported by his step-Dad as a runaway. And before Brad Kutane, there had been three others!

Bain studied that photo again; he couldn't be sure. Surely Beth would have called; she didn't hate him that much, did she? He reached for his cell phone…

The story backs up a day:

Chapter 1
Brad Kutane

The small boy struggled with complete futility against his bonds for quite some time before giving up in despair. He would not have thought that duct tape would have been that strong. The worst thing, aside from the overall fear of either being hurt or even killed, was his difficulty in breathing, and the heat. That bag around his head was heavy and even though it was cloth, it was hot and hard to get enough air through.

And damn, did they have to wrap him up in so much of that horrible tape? He could barely move. And he always had a tendency to be claustrophobic.

Aside from the fear of wondering what they would do to him, he was wondering if they got the wrong boy. His side of the family was not that rich. That was his uncle's father, and all the super stuck-up 'cousin-type' people on that side of the family. He never was interested enough to keep all the relationships straight, just that one was as stuck up as another. All what he most remembered was his own Grandad had nothing nice to say about his 'sanctimonious' older brother. He remembered asking his Grandad what sanctimonious meant.

He also distinctly remembered one other thing his Grandad said that had stuck in his mind. "If my brother has an opinion, it has to be wrong!"

Brad hadn't even seen anyone on that side of the family since they moved away several years ago.

Then blessed cool air! He yelped as someone pulled his legs out of the van. He thought he was going to fall, until he felt hands grab on his front end. He got super scared all over again wondering why he'd been kidnapped. And what they wanted with him. And hoped his friend maybe got a license plate number. He was walking home from school with his best friend Billy when the van stopped in front of them. In two seconds he had a bag put over him and was thrown into the back of that van. The last thing he heard was his friend shouting.

And why him and not Billy also? That's why he wondered if they thought he was part of the rich half of the Kutane family.

***

Later that night he realized it wasn't ransom, and he got even more frightened. They made him take all his clothes off, even his underwear, and someone took a video of him. Not even his Mom had recently touched him where those guys had touched him. And in spite of being scared to death, he kept thinking more about how cold it was without his clothes. He wished the place were warmer. At least they had finally taken him into a smelly bathroom and let him pee, even if that big guy stayed the whole time. They hardly said anything. That was right before the guy came with a fancy camera and they made him take all his clothes off.

He never got his own clothes back.

First, he's sweating like mad in the back of that van, especially after that guy had rolled him over several times and wrapped that tape around him. After that he couldn't hardly move his arms at all. He stared kicking and trying to stand and then the guy taped his ankles together. He was bounced around a lot as the van swerved all over the place. Then he felt the van stop and he could hear the guys talking. It wasn't English. Then someone picked him up as if he barely weighed anything, and they put him into another vehicle. This one had a softer bottom thankfully. Then another ride which went on forever. And he got so hot again.

But now he was freezing, in spite of the big lights on him. At least this guy he could understand even if he had a big accent. They kept telling him to do stuff. Look this way, look that way, he had to keep turning and then he was backed up against a wall that had marks on it. He suddenly realized it was a sort of ruler thing. But it couldn't have been measuring in feet. It said 140 of something. Then they even made him get on a scale. That wasn't in pounds either. He sure knew he weighed way more than 32 pounds. And why did he have to be naked all this time? Didn't they know how cold it was? Every time he tried to say something, he was threatened with that wand thing. He didn't want another jolt from that thing.

The guy with the fancy camera kept telling him to do things, like bending over and stuff. He was so embarrassed by a lot of it. Especially when someone actually put a ruler along his penis after it was pulled on. It seemed to stiffen up in seconds. Then he had to bend over. Why would anyone want a video of his butt, especially that close? He had trouble even seeing the people with the bright lights, and he knew it definitely wasn't for ransom when someone was addressing the camera about how cute he was. With his blond hair and blue eyes. But he wasn't 10 years old like that guy said. He was 11. He started crying suddenly when he remembered his last birthday party. He wanted so much to just go home. Maybe wake up tomorrow and realize this was just a bad dream. And those two guys seemed not able to stop touching him, especially where no one should be touching him. But at the same time that he was totally scared, he was also strangely excited. As if his body was telling him this was something he liked.

It was no dream. And just before he was blindfolded again he screamed when someone started grabbing his penis and saying how they would get quite a lot of money for him. Damn they were going to sell him! His thoughts became chaotic when another guy said something about him making a really cute slave. Would someone actually buy him? He didn't want to be a slave.

Finally, they let he get dressed again but they weren't his own clothes. Just cheap sneakers and a shirt and shorts. Then he was taken in a regular car. The seat was just a normal seat, but they had wrapped some cloth around his head covering his eyes and his mouth real tight, and then most of his body. And then put more tape around him. He got so scared when they wrapped that tape around his arms and half way down his legs. He could barely walk.

They went forever and he realized he'd fallen asleep when they woke him up. He was then taken out of the car and put into a plastic thing on wheels. He felt himself moved all around for quite a while and even felt an elevator, but a loud 'clangy' one. He had tried to figure out where they were taking him but he gave up after a while. Finally, they took him out of that plastic container and when he tried to stand he was so dizzy. He had to be helped. Then all that tape came off again. He opened his eyes and was startled to see he was in a strange kind of room with a low ceiling. But what startled him most, there were three other boys there. They were pretty quiet just sitting or lying down on bunks. Two looked even younger than he was. But one thing he noticed, they were all blond!

He was so thirsty he finally had to ask for something to drink even with that guy waving that wand thing around.

"Please mister, can I get a drink?"

One of the guys said something in a foreign language and another said one word. "Boy." And pointed to the kid on the end.

That boy, picked up a water bottle and stepped over and reached out with it. As he took it he said thanks and was startled to see there was a thing around his ankle attached to a chain! He then also had a cuff put around his right ankle and was chained to a ring in the floor. At least it was padded.

Later, after all the men left, everyone started talking all at once. After a lot of shouting the older kid took charge.

"I don't know much, but we have all been kidnapped. I saw a real big ship, a freighter I think, right before they tightened that rag on my head. When Mickie there started bawling and asked them not to kill him, the one guy said we were all going to be sold to men who want sex slaves. Something about an auction."

"Sex? Slaves?" Brad was totally frightened, but he figured that at least they weren't going to kill them.

Chapter 2
Greg Dahl

Greg was a lonely boy, having moved around much of the past years from one foster home to the next. He lately decided that making close friends just made him feel that much worse when he had to move. He was quite well put together and despite his remarkably cute looks, seemed to shun the attention he was just starting to get from the girls.

Greg's abduction had almost been an accident. He'd been seen walking down a darkening road right at sunset, trying to decide if he really wanted to go home. Of course, thoughts like this were common, and he soon realized that he simply had nowhere else to go. Not a real relative in sight; he never even knew his real parents, apparently abandoned with only a note with two words, presumably his name: "Gregers Dahl."

The lonely boy, never even paying attention to where he was going, had been abducted and tossed into a van, (not a stolen one this time), by two men who just decided the opportunity was too good to pass up. No one was around to see what had happened and the boy was later filmed like all the others. Totally naked.

Greg was quite alarmed as his body had been touched by the men who seemed to take delight in fondling his private parts. His penis seemed to have almost a life of its own as it stayed jutting out through the entire proceedings to its engorged 4 inches [10 cm]. To those fondling it, it was a prefect testimony to boyhood. As the crew was wrapping up the last shot, an over enthusiastic 'stage director,' having startled the boy by putting his finger up the boy's butt hole and grabbing the boy's beautifully formed penis, caused a sharp explosion of shock and something else. A feeling he had not the words to describe, but were in a strange way, even welcome. As it hit a crescendo, his body shook.

The camera man, the boss in charge, looked up in time to note that the boy being held, was having a dry orgasm. The boy, to him, was the embodiment of boy perfection. A classic blond, who was of perfect size, age, and body conformation. The boy himself had never before felt such a frisson of pleasure run outward from his groin. Had no words for it. It had momentarily captured his attention away from his all abiding fear.

"Bring the boy here," the boss man ordered. "Get him something to eat and drink and lock him in the back room."

"But boss…" The underling never got out another word. He knew who was boss.

The boy was tossed a pair of shorts, a shirt, and some sneakers, his own clothes having disappeared. He wondered what was going to happen next and his fears were somewhat ameliorated by seeing that they were feeding him. A cold burger and a drink. He sat in that small room, ate, and then investigated his surroundings, after determining there was no way out of the windowless room. There was a bed, two suitcases, and a bare standing clothes rack with several shirts and a jacket. Presumable belonging to one of his kidnappers. He found nothing else of interest except an old paper with strange writing. Chinese or something.

He wondered again why some Chinese people had abducted him. Except for the directions he was given as he was forced to pose in those naked video, all else he heard was in some strange lilting language.

He was only in that room for about a half hour when the boss man entered.

"Please, what do you want with me? Can I go home soon?"

The man looked the boy up and down and smiled.

"Definitely boy. But to your new home far from here. You will bring me quite a good price at auction. Blond boys like you are a rarity in my homeland."

The boy started shaking, trying not to believe what he thought he understood. And he understood enough, especially considering the naked poses he was made to audition for, that it involved being molested by men who liked boys for sex. At 11 years of age, he had been the recipient of all kinds of sex related information, and much of it was even factual. He now suddenly looked at the man through a different perspective. The guy was in fact quite attractive. Greg had always liked the look of Orientals for some inexplicable reason, and this guy was quite well put together himself. "Auction? What do you mean?" The boy hoped that his surmise was wrong. It wasn't.

"Boys like you will bring me a lot of money. Many men will be bidding on you. You are quite beautiful."

The boy was barely processing what this strange man with a strange accent said when the man started undressing.

"Take off your clothes. I want to see all of you. I will show you what those men will want from you."

The boy started shaking. "Please. Please don't hurt me."

"Boy, the last thing I want to do is to hurt you. You seemed to enjoy what that other man did to you. You liked that?"

The boy barely was able to make himself nod. He stood there shaking, and not from the cold. And not entirely out of fear.

"If you cooperate, I promise you will not be hurt. But I fully intend to show you just what you will be doing for whoever wins you at auction. You will undress now."

The now naked man seemed to captivate the boy's interest. Excitement warred with fear. The boy simply stood there as the man quickly divested him of his simple clothing. He marveled at the boy's light skin and beautiful features.

Greg, 11½ years old, 4 feet 9 inches [1.46 m] tall, and 84 pounds [38 kg], was a well-formed boy. He'd been athletic enough, so the little muscle he had, was toned. The man was quite encouraged when he noted that the boy was not trying to avoid his intimate touches. Although he asked for the man to stop, the boy soon was so totally seduced by the feelings he was now experiencing, that the man was able to do whatever he pleased.

The boy felt his penis being pulled by a hand that wasn't his. He whimpered, but stayed nearly still. He tried to understand his own feelings, and realized that although he'd put up a show of resisting earlier, he really liked the being molested like this. Especially by someone as good looking at the man in front of him, a quite slim and dusky skinned Oriental.

"Did your penis really measure 4 inches [10 cm]? Quite big for a boy your age."

The man pulled him tight against him and the boy just allowed things to happen. Even as the man's hands roamed all over his now naked body, giving special interest to the boy's genitals. He had feelings he'd never experienced before and liked them.

"Mister, I think…"

That was all he got out as another dry orgasm wracked his boy's body.

"Wow, you're quite responsive boy. I was barely handling you. I am certainly going to enjoy our night together.

The boy was shocked. "The night together?"

But it was not all fear which had him doing exactly what the man demanded. He gasped as the guy pulled him down in the bed with him and started his hands roaming all over again. This time deliberately pushing finger inside the boy's rear hole. The boy thought that so dirty. He pooped out of that hole. But the feelings were amazing.

The man deliberately pushed in slowly. He wanted he boy as willing as possible. He again started kissing the boy. The boy tried to avoid it at first until the man demanded cooperation. The boy soon started to like feeling that tongue in his mouth, even if the idea at first repulsed him. He eventually just let things happen. Along with the amazing feelings his body was experiencing. Then he was startled as the man moved his mouth down on his again jutting boy penis. He enjoyed the strange feelings as the man spent quite some time at it.

"Your turn boy."

The boy froze. "Me? What?"

Start sucking on my own boner. And no teeth. I feel a tooth you will live, but not without several bruises from that belt hanging over that chair."

The boy did not pull away as the man changed positions and moved the boy over on top of him. The man's medium brown penis, darker than most the rest of him, Greg noticed up close, was very different from his with a short piece of skin about the head. He hesitantly opened his mouth and the man took advantage, entering the boy. The man moved again and pushed the boy beneath him, arched over, and took the boy's penis into his own mouth.

The startled boy suddenly moved his own face away from the man's now quite stiff 6 inches [15 cm] of brown flesh, that piece of skin pulled entirely back.

"Keep sucking boy. You need to learn that no matter what happens, the boy must minister to the man."

Minister? the boy thought. What a strange way of putting it. He engulfed the man's penis and in a surge of arousal started really sucking and working it in his mouth. He could fit about half of it. At least the man didn't try to ram it home. Soon the man stopped his own work on the boy's penis and enjoyed the moment. He decided to warn the boy.

"You know what's going to happen? You know about sex boy?"

The boy pulled away to answer. "White stuff? You will make the white stuff?"

"Yes, boy. And if you can drink it all down I'll reward you."

The boy was so into the sex he didn't allow himself to be alarmed; he went back to mouthing the man's penis. What he lacked in technique he made up for in enthusiasm. (He tried not to think about the fact that he strangely enjoyed what he was doing). He was also glad that the man was clean and didn't smell. He'd heard boys talk about that kind of thing happening to a few of the older boys when they were forced to have sex.

Yes, he knew enough. He tried not to think about the stuff he'd heard about guys putting their penis up the boy's ass hole. He knew that really hurt.

Greg was totally unprepared for the gushing cum. He tried to swallow but it gushed too much and spilled from his mouth. The taste wasn't too bad, not quite what he'd heard about it. He pulled off when he felt it start to go into his sinuses.

The man sprayed the last of his discharge into the boy's face. "Boy, you did great. Great. We're going to have a great night together."

The whole night? The guy wanted him to sleep on the same bed?

Later, after several more dry orgasms on the part of the boy, and another drawn out cum filled one by the man, again in the boy's mouth, they lay cuddled together. The boy had never felt more than a single finger go up his butt hole, and for that he was glad. He was afraid to ask about it.

The man was saying all kinds of things to make the boy feel like he was the greatest boy around.

"Boy, note I did not use your rectum. That will be something you must train for. We don't want to ruin you. We will open you up gradually, it doesn't have to hurt."

The boy was reassured and cuddled against the strange foreigner. He heard more praise from him in one evening than from his own step-Dad in forever. Maybe this wasn't going to be too bad. Of course, this guy was going to sell him. He hoped that whoever bought him, he's be as kind. Greg was shocked as he realized he had momentarily allowed himself think in terms of being sold. He didn't know where he got the courage but he asked: "Sir, maybe you could keep me?"

The boy tried not to think about the slave part.

He thought he heard the man groan. Eventually the man gruffly replied: "Not going to happen boy. I have men I have to pay off."

The boy awoke the next morning a bit disoriented and the past day came back to him with a resounding mind-crash. He couldn't believe what he'd done.

"Shit."

Chapter 3
Beau DuPane

A shrill voice punctuated the hall, waking Beau out of a sound sleep. He looked at the clock. 10 am.

Shit, he thought, he'd wanted to get out early today.

The shrill voice intruded: "Turn your fucking phone on asshole, the other asshole is trying to call."

Beau groaned from the bottom of his soul. His Mom had gotten so much worse this past year. She never could forgive his Dad. Why Beau would rather stay out of the house most days. Why his Dad, a gay man, would have gotten married to a girl in these more enlightened times, he'd never understand. His Mom and Dad had only stayed married long enough for his Dad to have passed his blue-eyed and blond-haired genes on to one other person. Himself. And now that he started looking so much like his Dad as he got older, his mother almost seemed to have transferred her hatred over to him. About the only difference between he and his father, his blond hair was ever so slightly wavy, and he suspected, at his present rate of not growing, he would not even reach his Dad's 5' 10" [1.78 m].

He must have forgotten to turn his phone on after school Friday. Beau struggled out of bed, almost tripping over the stack of games which had been left littering the floor. Many had been from his Dad. He thought that his Dad was a sort of an asshole sometimes too, but he was also generous when he had his head out of his ass. Or more likely, when he could afford it. His Dad was a private investigator, and even less well off than his Mom most of the time. She had the advantage of having a long string of boyfriends. Most of whom seemed to have instinctively known that Beau was probably like his Dad in one other important way. Though the jury was still out he stubbornly thought. He was only 12. Maybe he'd eventually become girl crazy like some of his classmates had suddenly done, but still, he was starting to like watching the other boys in the shower room after gym, especially the ones who were getting bigger down there,… and stuff. And he'd much rather be out and about with his friend Kiam. Than any girl. Now Kiam, well… He decided not to go there.

Beau thought about his friend, and supposed it was true that opposite attract. Kiam was as dark as he was light. Kiam had straight black hair, he had slightly wavy blond hair. Kiam was good in every sport there was, Beau struggled just to be on the same field with his friends. He was, however, good enough to enjoy sports, he just, well he wasn't going to be a star. Kiam couldn't care less about studying, Beau easily got straight A's barely trying.

Kiam's name was really Kiambang, but he had dropped half of his name when a lot of the kids started making fun of it. Typical fifth grade mentality stuff. That had actually got Beau even more enraged than Kiam. So, it was two years ago, when Beau suggested to his friend to tell all his teachers to call him Kiam when they got to Middle School the next year. It worked.

Beau finally turned his phone on and it rang immediately. His friends joked that Beau had the only phone which still actually rang.

"Lo."

"That you Beau? Thank god you're all right. I was worried."

"Huh? Why shouldn't I be OK, Dad? You're not drinking again are you? You promised!"

"Look Beau, you're one of the things I did right with my life. I promised, and I mean to keep it. Hadn't had a drop now in almost a year. And sorry I didn't see you last Saturday."

His Dad wasn't the most reliable guy in the world. (Part of the asshole part). But he did have a crazy job where things DID come up suddenly. So Beau figured that it was a coin flip that his Dad really did suddenly have to work.

"No prob. And I actually do understand Dad."

"OK, how about today? I can pick you up in an hour?"

Beau thought about Kiam saying he wanted to go to the park. Maybe he wouldn't mind going with him with his Dad.

"OK Dad, down the block. Mom shouldn't see you."

Thirty minutes later all three, the Dad, Beau, and Kiam, were all tooling about town in his Dad's only extravagance. A beautiful, rebuilt, 1968 Mustang. Eventually they wound up at his Dad's office.

"Need to check some things, boys. Want to come inside for a minute?"

"Sure Dad. Come on Kiam, my Dad has some real cool gadgets. Like tiny snoopy cameras, and stuff for tracking people, and all kinds of stuff."

The one thing Beau did freak out about at times was the way his Dad looked at Kiam. Kiam was definitely a girl type boy, but when they had discussed the thing about his Dad's more than platonic ogling, Kiam just laughed.

"Hey Beau, cool it. I'm sort of flattered. It just shows I'm cute as all hell!"

"But fuck Kiam, my Dad's a hundred years older than you in boy-years."

But so far, Beau's Dad never did more than look.

***

The very next day, two men were roaming the suburbs for one additional boy. There were already four boys, manacled to their bunks in the ship's hold, soon to be on their way to the by sale in a suburb of Singapore. A thriving economy had provided a luxurious living for a new crop of money people. And with the usual demand for blue-eyes blonds in a land of black haired, duskier hued Orientals, the boys they had acquired were money on the hoof.

A fifth boy, just acquired late the day before, had been kept in the warehouse as the boss's play thing.

The two men had followed a winning strategy, having stolen another van, quickly painting it black, and changed plates. The men were talking about their ship which had been scheduled to leave port very late that night and that the boss said that they still had time to grab one more kid.

"At the price they're going for now, I want to fill all six bunks. Perhaps next year we'll try Seattle, or Vancouver." The boss said. "The heavy demand now is for English speaking blonds."

Back in the van, (translated) the conversation went something like this: (**** indicates bleeped out phrases)

"Don't the **** know what the **** is with all the blondies the boss wants."

"Sell **** better. It's the **** rage right now. The auction house gets 10 times as much for a **** blondie. Even up to 20 times if the **** kid is ***** cute, young, and easily persuaded, like the kid we got yesterday."

"I like the **** boys **** young myself. But I want a **** boy with some color in his **** hide."

(laughing)

The suburbs provided a lot of boy hunting grounds, with boys walking about in much less populated areas. A little later, without much luck, they decided to try somewhere else.

"Yeah. **** man, but the boss would go **** crazy if we do the same **** place again."

"How about the town next over? Saw some blond kids there the last time through."

"Sure, how about we **** the fuck the **** out of the **** boy, when we get the **** boy in the **** van."

(more laughing)

"Better the **** not, the boss wants the **** merchandise undamaged."

They soon spied two young boys walking along the road, one a really cute blond.

"There, up ahead. Damn he's a **** cutie. Think he's too old?"

"Time's the **** running out. I say let's grab the little ****. I'll turn the van around. Get in the **** back and get the **** hood ready. I'll pull ahead of the ****. Now, I know you prefer **** dark meat, so don't grab the **** wrong boy."

(more laughter)

***

Another conversation was occurring not very far away. The conversation was less graphic as the two boys were meandering down a deserted street. One boy had just remarked that they were about nowhere from anywhere. And there was not another soul in sight on that Sunday afternoon.

"I think you're crazy Beau. Totally bonkers."

"Look, my Dad can use the money. We get that really rich kid back, he can get a lot of money from that millionaire. He offered that big humongous reward for his grand something or other. I got one of my Dad's trackers. Works just like the GSP stuff in a car. So, if I get tossed in the van, call my Dad right away. Simple. He follows. I get rescued. Dad return's that millionaire's grand something or other. Dad gets rich. What can go wrong?"

The only reason that Kiam went along with the plan, to wander along deserted areas near where the other boys had been taken, was because the chances of his friend being taken was way beyond zilch.

"Well, what if you don't get rescued? And what if you're wrong about everything?"

"My Dad said that he found out from a cop friend there were at least four kids, all blonds, kidnapped in those three towns just over the last week."

***

Suddenly a black van shot past the two boys from behind, and came to a skidding stop. Fortunately, there was another person walking a dog just nearby. Unfortunately, the guy was too timid to do anything as he heard and saw a masked man draw a big bag down over the blond kid, and toss him into the van. Kiam had been thrown to the ground, and before he could do much of anything, his friend was no longer next to him.

Kiam swore in three languages, his native Malay, Mandarin, and English.

The man wrote down the license plate and tried to remember what that one guy had said. It sounded like 'puka muka'. Sort of.

Kiam started almost panicking. He did start crying. His friend was kidnapped! Never in a billion years did he ever think… He finally got out his cell phone and speed dialed Beau's Dad.

He had to pull the thing away from his ear. "He the fuck did what? Is he a moron?"

Through his tears Kiam tried to get Beau's Dad here fast, he wasn't too sure just how those tracking things worked.

"Mr. DuPane, Beau has one of your trackers. He has a tracker! He has a tracker!" he shouted into the phone.

Finally, Mr. DuPane realized what the boy was saying. But he had several different types, all with different devices. "What's the color?"

"Black. It was black."

"Square or oblong?"

"Oblong."

"OK. Call the police. 9-1-1. Right now. I'll be there right away. I hope we can find him. Fuck!"

***

Meanwhile, the two men were cursing up a storm, arguing about where to take the boy. One opted right for the ship. It was getting too near sailing time. The other said that the boss said NEVER to take the boy right to the ship until the boy had been processed. Nor were they EVER to call the boss direct.

Meanwhile, Beau's heart was racing a mile a minute. He suddenly decided that this was maybe not a very smart thing to do. He kept worrying about what would happen if his Dad didn't catch up with the van in time. That was when the van suddenly stopped along with Beau's heart. Well almost.

Beau was wrapped in a bag down to his waist, and bound with duct tape, and was barely able to move. He was thankful that the tracking thing was still in his pocket. But he had never understood what REALY SCARED was like until now. He promised himself that he would never do anything this stupid again. If he survived.

Meanwhile, the bigger guy, the one who preferred 'dark meat,' opened the back of the van from the inside, shoved the boy outward while his partner grabbed the kid's bound feet. It had been a well-rehearsed maneuver. In one minute, they were tooling down the road in the opposite direction in a different vehicle, the boy having been tossed under several blankets. He had stopped trying to wiggle his way free.

Meanwhile the police had showed up at the site of the kidnapping. Kiam was so distraught he was barely coherent. But he and the dog walker had finally given their editions of the story. The police called it in, and within minutes there were ten official vehicles, and more on the way, trying to find that van. They also put out an Amber Alert.

One cop was re-interviewing the dog walker, while Kiam was being ill on the side of the road. "Now again, what exactly did you hear that guy say?"

"Really not too sure. I think it was like Chinese or something. My neighbor is a chink. I mean Chinese."

The officer, trying to be patient, asked again: "Calm down and try to remember. What did you hear? Try imaging the sounds in your mind."

"Well, I think it was like 'puka muka', or something like that."

From a short distance away, a boy came alive and shouted: "He said 'pukimak kau.' It's Malay. It sorta means, 'fuck yourself'."

The first officer was want to ignore the young boy. How the hell would he know? But the second one, a newly minted rookie, turned and asked: "And you are?"

"Kiambang Tenku. The boy who was just taken is my best friend. I speak Malay. It was definitely pukimak kau, it's a common phrase in Singapore where I used to live, and I can even do better than that. The guy was almost certainly from my own area of the country. I know that accent."

Meanwhile, Mr. DuPane had arrived with a screeching halt, the cops trying to get him to go around the scene of the kidnapping.

It took the guy five lost minutes trying to convince the cops that he might possibly be able to track his son. Fortunately, one of the older officers came over who recognized the private detective, even if he didn't know him very well.

The distraught father tried his best not to curse a blue streak. "Look you idiot. Just listen! I need to talk to that boy over there. He'd my son's friend. I'm the boy's father. My boy had on him one of these trackers. I can track him if you fuckers ever let me find out which one I need to follow."

He shoved past the cop. "Kiam, which one was it." He held out two different gizmos.

"That one." Kiam pointed.

Mr. DuPane tore out of there in his souped-up Mustang in a roar. Going in the opposite direction all the cop cars had gone! The one officer, the young one with some grey matter, decided to follow. He talked his partner into following. DuPane just hoped that the Lithium batteries in that device his son had would last long enough. He didn't know if it had been fully recharged. He calibrated the tracking device in his car and saw the blip clear as day. "Way to go boy. If I ever do save you, I'll kill you myself!"

Meanwhile, Beau was just then, taken out of the second vehicle and brought into an abandoned building where lights were set up, along with a backdrop with a height scale.

The boss man in charge spoke. "We got five hours before the ship sails. Plenty of time. Hurrying now is not necessary and can cause mistakes. You knew the routine. Have the boy undress, and dispose of everything. The clothing and everything the boy had on him, especially any phone. They can be tracked."

The bigger guy went over to the boy who was struggling as he lay on the bare floor. He cut away the tape and the bag. The boy looked about trying not to cry. "What…"

He never got out another word. The man touched him with a rod-like device and the boy screamed.

Across the warehouse the boss remarked: "Tonga sure likes to use that thing. If he damages the merchandise tell him I'll damage him. Go over there and protect the boy. He's worth his weight in gold. Well almost."

The second man went over, and between the two they had the boy on his feet and totally naked. The boy was too scared to resist after that first shock. "OK boy, don't even utter a word. We need to make a video of you. You do exactly as we say. Understand?"

Through tears, Beau replied: "Yes sir. I'll cooperate. Just please don't touch me with that thing again. I'll do what you say. Why do I have to be naked?"

The smaller man chuckled: "An advanced advertisement. You'll go on auction in about two weeks. There are a lot of my countrymen who would like to ride that creamy white ass of yours. Maybe you'll get lucky. Instead of being sold to a boy brothel, perhaps a rich guy will buy you to be his slave."

Both laughed as the camera came toward them and the small guy started doing the MC for the film.

Beau wiped away his tears and did as he was told. His penis engorged when he was stripped of his clothing, but shriveled back to a couple inches in the cold air. He was quite embarrassed as they made him do several provocative poses. Especially the one where he had to bend over and grab his own butt, and pull his cheeks apart. The camera homed right in. One guy then started masturbating him and he instantly shot a few drops across the floor. The boy had never shot anything before.

"Wow. We got a hair trigger here. You liked that boy? How old are you? You starting to get hair yet?"

Beau was too embarrassed to answer. He didn't have any pubes yet; he kept looking recently. But lately, he sure felt different. Suddenly sex stuff captivated his interest.

Beau went through all the poses they asked for and afterwards they gave him a shirt, shorts, and sneakers to wear. They bound his hands behind his back and he despaired as he saw someone walk away with his clothes, and most importantly, the tracker. He quietly sat in a pure funk in the back of the man's car where he had been led blindfolded.

The boss wrapped everything up, and decided to take the two boys with him to the ship while the other two men were disposing of anything that could possible lead anyone back to them. He went into a back room and unlocked the boy's ankle cuff from the stanchion.

It was the fifth boy, named Greg, whom they had just acquired the day before, and he'd proved quite accommodating in bed the night before with only a minimum of persuasion. The boy had eventually proved quite into man-boy sex after being properly motivated. And stimulated. The boss thought the boy would bring in big bucks at the auction.

"What's happening?" The boy had heard the big ruckus outside the room he'd been locked in, and realized that they had abducted another boy. That was when he finally allowed himself to believe that the guys taking about being sold at auction was probably true. Though he was horrified about losing everything he knew, the prospect was also horribly exciting to him in a sexual way. One errant thought came to him, at least no more school. He hated school. And didn't even especially like his own family.

"Shut up or I'll gag you. Have to put a blindfold on you and tie your hands behind your back. Don't dare refuse to cooperate. You know what I am capable of doing."

Greg Dahl shuddered. But what had most bothered him, aside from being kidnapped, was the fact that, after he realized that he could in no way stop the man from using him for sex, he liked being molested by the guy. At least the physical part. The man had kept him in the bed with him all night. And had used him for sex several times during the night. Though he hadn't used him up the butt like he greatly feared he would. Said he was not about to damage the merchandise. The only thing he felt was the man's finger. That sort of felt good even if the idea of it grossed him out.

Even now, as he was being handled by the guy whom everyone just referred to as 'boss,' Greg had a raging boner. Earlier, he'd been surprised when he realized that the three men he'd seen all looked Oriental and two of them mostly spoke with huge accents, and rarely in English. And as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he found them all attractive.

***

Beau was startled when he realized another blindfolded boy was being put into the car with him. They almost automatically held onto each other. The car soon pulled out moving further away from the tracker.

"Dad, where are you?" Beau forlornly asked.

Almost immediately after the boss left the warehouse, a mustang and three cop cars drove up to the large open door. Two people were arrested, and Mr. DuPane found the tracker in a burn barrel, unburned. Unfortunately, the tracker could no longer lead him to his son. He was concerned when he saw it there, along with his son's cellphone and clothing, but no boy. Enraged, he walked up to the smaller man, now in cuffs and sitting on the floor awaiting transport.

Bain hit the man brutally with the hilt of a knife. The man yelled as blood started streaming down his face. When the cuffed man started yelling to the cops, Mr. DuPane hit him again, opening another gash.

"You're out of luck fucker. They won't help. Now. I'll count to ten. If I don't hear where you've taken the boy, I'll kill you."

The two cops there heard Mr. DuPane's threat, but deliberately faced the other way. They ignored the man's pleas.

"If you don't tell me before I reach zero, I'll then try your friend over there. I'll probably have to keep him alive, however, because you'll be dead. And if you don't believe me just so you know. That last boy you took is my son."

The man looked startled.

"… five, four,…"

A knife appeared at the man's throat and had actually drawn some blood. The man screamed and yelled to the cops to help him. They stayed facing away.

'Three, two,.."

"OK, OK, the Miranda, it's a small freighter in the shipyard. The boys are in the bottom hold near the boilers."

***

The boss man stopped at a deserted area outside of town and opened the back door which was rigged not to open from the inside. He smiled. The two boys he thought were both cute as shit. He decided he had enough time to have some fun with the new one. He deliberately molested all the kidnapped boys to gage how amendable they were to man-boy sex. Of course, the previous night had been a surprising bonus. Quite a find. Now he also wondered about this new boy who had been sporting a boner all the time he was being handled.

The man pulled both boys from the car, tying a short rope to the ankle cuff they each still wore. Beau was again quickly divested of his clothing and felt something soft under his feet. He leaned into the man as the man's hands roamed all over his small boy body. Then he was almost blinded as his blindfold was removed. His hands were still tied behind his back, but the kind of rope that was used, and the way they were tie in a sort of 'X,' it wasn't too horrible.

The man forced his huge brownish penis into the boy's mouth. Beau had seen this in pictures and on the Internet, but had only done it in his fantasies. And at least this guy was pretty good looking. And fortunately had washed.

"Looks I got another podan here."

Beau didn't need a translation. He'd learned that word from his friend Kiam when they were talking about Beau maybe being a boy-boy type boy. Right now, he knew that he had to better please this guy. Fortunately, it wasn't onerous. In fact, he started liking having that big brown thing in his mouth. (Six inches [15 cm] to the boy was big). The man came so suddenly that Beau almost gagged. He pulled back and felt the man's hands keep the penis in his mouth. He dribbled down his front.

"Anu hang!" the man exclaimed.

Beau then felt the man puling on the rope that connected the two boys. "Ok, here's what's going to happen. You both know what a sixty-nine is, right? Budak saks dengan budak. Hisap batang?"

Both boys caught on when he positioned both boy's face to penis. Greg seemed quite willing. Beau only needed a little persuasion. The man masturbated as he watched the boy getting more and more excited as they continued. Greg climaxed quite quickly.

After feeling up both boys as they were forced to continue, the boss man breathed a deep sigh and looked at his watch.

"Tiak! Must go boys. Stand."

The blind folds were again replaced after the connecting rope was taken off, and the boy's regained their clothing. Beau almost was ready to run until the man replaced the rope on his ankle after his pants were being pulled up.

***

Meanwhile, back at the freighter Miranda, after the harbormaster, three different agencies, two FBI agents, and a swarm of cops, got in on the act, four boys were eventually discovered chained to their bunks in a cabin in the ship. Including the millionaire's grandnephew.

Unfortunately, the boss of the operation, along with two boys, Greg Dahl, and Beau DuPane, were never found. The delay in molesting the later boy, and watching them engage in boy-boy fellatio, gave the police just enough time to get to the ship before them.

After that close escape, the boss decided that he was rich enough. After auctioning off Beau DuPane to a wealthy Chinese who lived just north of Singapore, he retired to a smaller town in another part of Malaysia. He decided to keep Greg as his personal sex slave. The boy was never heard from again. At least by any authorities.

Chapter 4
Discovery

Two years later, a small blond boy, naked except for his sandals, slave collar, and chastity device, knelt before his master. The man, a well-respected scion of the new wealthy entrepreneurs of Singapore, luxuriated in the view before him. The boy was only slightly bigger than he'd been two years before. The slave doctor had said that he could be made to stay about the same size throughout his adolescent years. Fortunately, the boy could still enjoy his essentially dry orgasms. He especially like it when his master played with his nearly passive boy body.

His master like his size. After his adolescence, if kept on the LHRH, and GnRH analogues, together with the HGH inhibitors, it would be too late for the boy to grow any bigger. He would probably never reach 5 feet [1.50 m]. Exactly the same as he had been two years before when he had been bought at auction.

Beau, usually addressed merely as boy, but sometimes as Fin Ja, listened with rapt attention as his master spoke. (Never did he hear the name Beau).

"Boy, it says here in one of your newspapers that your Dad has finally given up looking for you. It seems the money that millionaire awarded him had finally run out."

"Yes master. Shall I get you your after-dinner drink master?"

"Yes boy, and while you are up, get me the key to your chastity cage. I want to play with your genitals tonight. And I think you deserve a reward. Tonight, you will be free of it as we enjoy our romp in my bed."

The blond, blue-eyed boy, now smiling, replied: "Master, as you wish. This slave obeys always."

Later that night, both boy and master fully sated, were cuddling in the large comfortable bed.

"Boy, remember, we need to make that international call before we retire."

"Yes master."

The boy retrieved his master's cell phone. And listened as his master spoke.

Three days later, as a now fully clothed slave boy sat in the back of the limousine with his master, both slave and master looked out at the countryside as they dropped down from the millionaire's country estate on their way to the Singapore Changi Airport. By road it was quite a distance, though his master's estate was quite close as the bird flies.

The man was on the car's intercom: "Ku, will we be in time?"

"Yes sir, in fact a little early. The plane is on schedule. I know already where to park after I drop you off. And I will escort the gentlemen to you at Crown Prince Hotel restaurant."

"Excellent. Boy, how're you doing? This is the first time you've been away from my estate since I brought you to the slave doc just after I made you my slave."

The boy, a bit anxious being away from his usual routine, with some ambivalence, replied: "Master, it feels weird wearing clothes. And I miss my collar. But I'm excited about seeing the countryside around where I now live. And of course, seeing…" He left the sentence hanging.

The man spoke: "Boy, when we get there, the stupid new rules will mean we will have to wait away from the main terminal. My driver is to meet the distinguished gentlemen and will escort them to where we will be awaiting in a nearby dining facility. I have also invited them out to our estate; there you can reacquaint yourself with your naked body. I will also be sure to reattach your heavy slave collar. But it would have attracted too much attention in the city. When we get back, you will again be sure to follow your established routine. You will attend to all of us during their stay. Is that understood boy? I may have been more lenient with you in recent months but know this, you will always be my slave, and I fully expect you to behave as such."

"Of course, Master. When the gentlemen come, do you want me to stay in formal slave deportment?"

The man looked at his cherished save and finally replied: "Boy, I do not want any unseemly attention given in our direction. While there, perhaps just be yourself,… if you can remember what yourself used to be."

"Yes master." He smiled at his master's small jape.

Thirty minutes later, as his master was finishing a small repast of a delectable seafood appetizer, the boy noted the driver leading two gentlemen towards his master's table. He stood.

Across the dining room, the younger of the two, obviously a native of the country, suddenly sprinted towards him with a huge smile. The two boys crashed together, the newcomer almost pushing the much smaller slave boy to the floor."

The larger of the two excitedly gushed: "Wow Beau, you look almost the same. How are you really doing?"

The boy, with tears in his eyes, could barely answer, he was so overcome with emotion. "Kiam, how'm I doing? I'm happy. Now you, I barely recognized. You've sure shot up." The boy then moved to the side to greet his father. It had been two years, although his master had allowed him to call both from time to time, making sure the call could never be traced.

Finally, the master cleared his throat and stated: "Boy, you're forgetting your protocols. Please remember them."

"Oh. Sorry Master. Dad, Kiam, this is Jun Jie, my Master. Master, this is Bain DuPane, my father, and this is Kiambang Tenku, my best friend from before I was made a slave, and sold."

Although Kiam seemed overjoyed just thinking about finally reuniting with his close friend, Beau's father seemed somewhat upset. "Look Beau, forget all this slave bullshit. I have return tickets for all three of us. You'll be coming back to the States when we leave."

"But Dad, I may only leave if Master Jie requires it of me." Tears were now copiously dripping down his face. The scene they were trying to avoid had transpired nonetheless.

"Nonsense Beau, there's no reason for you to stay. If I could have discovered where you were being held I would have come for you sooner."

"But Dad, I must do exactly as my master commands."

"What! Why?" The incensed father asked, (along with a few expletives) while a greatly perplexed Kiam watched. And while Master Jun Jie knowingly smiled, looking fondly at his boy.

The boy stood in a quandary for the barest moment and replied. "Quite simple, Dad. I'm my master's slave. And I will always be his slave."

The End