This is a pre-ATF story, sequel to Do I Know You?
The air conditioning caused the handsome young man to shiver slightly. He had been working outside all day in the scorching sun. Waving at the Morty, the bartender, he hurried up the stairs. The other young men in the room scowled at him as he brushed past them. He closed the bathroom door and turned on the shower. He needed to get cleaned up so he could lay down for a couple of hours. Standing under the tepid water, he poured shampoo into his hand and rubbed his hands together. After a thorough shampooing, he quickly scrubbed his body and got out. Toweling off, he pulled on a pair of sweats. He gathered up his dirty clothes and headed for the small room the owner let him use to sleep.A heavy knock roused him a couple of hours later. Jude was tapping his toe in an agitated manner as he waited for Vin to follow him to the preparation room. The older man was responsible for getting all of the ‘escorts’ ready for the evening. He shoved a shaving kit into Vin’s hands and pushed him on toward the bathroom. The other young men were already in costume. Tony wore a shimmering black thong. Larry wore only a swatch of butter soft chamois that hung from a leather string to cover his groin. Lincoln wore a red spandex bikini bottom. When Vin came out of the bathroom, he caught the leather pouch that Jude tossed. Vin huffed his irritation.
“You snooze, you loose. If you want a better selection, you need to get here earlier,” Larry goaded. The light above the door flashed, signaling that it was time for them to go on. Vin hurried to put on the pouch and headed for the door.
“Hands?” Jude asked. Vin paused for the man to lock the ornamental shackles around his wrists. His stomach clenched as the metal bands clicked closed.
Vin Tanner was in debt. Several months ago, he was on his way to a life sentence in the state prison. Mason Jansen came to him with a proposition. He would put up fifty thousand dollars as a reward for information proving that the young man innocent if he agreed to work off the debt in ‘The Dungeon.’
The Dungeon was built around what had been a territory prison. Jansen bought the building and had it renovated. He tore down all the cells and had them refurbished. He brought in young men and women who offered themselves to his customers. It had cost him dearly to keep the property from being incorporated into the nearby town of Tascosa. As long as he was in an unincorporated area, he could technically run his whorehouse. The prison theme worked well and the place flourished.
One afternoon, as he was driving along the highway, Mason noticed a young man working in a field. The young man’s hair was tied back with a leather string and he was wearing a pair of low rider jeans that just hugged the curves of his ass. A couple of weeks later, he saw the young man again, in the newspaper. Vin Tanner was being tried for murder. He went to the jail and visited.
“I’d like to help you,” Jansen said as he sat across the counter from the handsome man.
“What’s in it for you?” Vin asked. So far, everyone had abandoned him. He didn’t know this man and couldn’t figure out why he would want to help.
“I want to be your friend, Vin.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Nothing, I’ll put up a reward for information to clear your name.”
“I’d have to pay you back.”
“Yes, but you can do it at my business,” Jansen said.
“What business? What would I have to do?”
“I own ‘The Dungeon,’ have you heard of it?”
“That club outside of town? With the big fence and the searchlights? Didn’t that used to be a prison or something?” Vin asked.
“That’s the place, you’ve heard of it?”
“Yeah, what would you want me to do?”
Jansen smiled. The young man was desperate not to go to prison. With his innocent expression, long wavy hair and slim build, he would be an instant favorite.
“You could be a dancer, or work behind the bar.”
“What would it pay?” Vin was leaning on the counter, hope surged through his veins.
“A hundred a night. You can keep your tips or use them to buy down the debt.”
“Okay, where do I sign?”
“You look like a man of your word, Vin. Can I trust that you’ll pay me back?”
“Yes sir.”
That was the beginning of the nightmare. A woman had come forward and identified another man as the killer. Vin Tanner was released from the jail and headed straight for his new employer. The first night, he worked behind the bar. The tight leather pants and tank top showed off more of his body than he was comfortable with but he owed the man. When the bar closed down in the wee hours of the morning, he was shown to a small room with a cot where he could crash for the night.
After a week, Jansen approached him with another proposition. He wanted Vin to dance in one of the birdcages. He assured the painfully shy young man that he would make good tips and would be out from under his debt in half the time. After thinking on it for a couple of hours, Vin swallowed his fear and let Jude put him in the cage. He objected to the bikini underwear he was given as his costume for the night. After a major hysterical argument, Vin agreed to wear the leather pants and no shirt. He spent the day with Larry, learning how to dance in the cage. When it was time, he shuddered as the ‘guard’ locked him in the four-foot diameter cage.
Two hours into the Friday night crowd, Vin decided he’d had enough, enough of women, and men, reaching through the bars trying to touch him. It didn’t matter that they were stuffing tens and twenties in the waistband of his pants. One man in particular kept trying to touch him and had grabbed his groin two or three times already. The next time the arm came into the cage, he grabbed it and yanked the obnoxious drunk up against the bars. When the man cried out, the ‘guards’ surged forward to separate the combatants. To his surprise and horror, they cuffed Vin’s hands behind his back and left him in the cage.
When the bar closed, the ‘guards’ came to let him out. Vin surged from the cage and began screaming at Morty and Jansen.
“Vin, Vin, calm down. Look at this. You earned three hundred dollars tonight! Most of it after your confrontation with that customer. Five or six nights a week like this and you’ll be debt free in no time,” Mason cooed.
“I don’t like it! I want to go back to working behind the bar. I can’t go back in the cage again, Mr. Jansen. Please?”
“I’m sorry Vin. I can’t turn down money like this. You don’t have to like it but you will do it. Now, you better get some rest, you look exhausted,” Jansen said.
“I won’t do it. I’ll find another way to pay you back, sir, but I won’t go back in the cage,” Vin insisted. He looked around at the bartender and the bouncers who were menacingly close.
“You can and you will,” Jansen said, nodding at the others. Suddenly, they grabbed him and jerked him to his feet. He was dragged across the room and down the stairs to the lower dungeon rooms. A door was opened and he was shoved into a room. The metal door clanged shut behind him and he hurled himself at the bars.
“You can’t do this to me!”
For the next four days, the bouncers handcuffed him and tossed him in the cage. After the first time the two men stripped him and dressed him in a thong, he willingly put on whatever they gave him just to keep them away. On Sunday morning, things went from bad to worse. Jansen escorted him to his cell and followed him in.
“Vin, I have an opportunity for you to make five hundred for one night.”
“What do I have to do?” Vin hated to ask but he knew he couldn’t bear too many more nights in the cage with all those people pawing at him.
“Just lay down and spread your legs,” Mason said. He was prepared for the violent reaction, ducking the fist that flew toward his jaw. The businessman was quick and stronger than he looked. He caught Vin’s hand and twisted it up behind his back, forcing him to his knees against the end of the bed. “I’m going to help you out this one time. I’m going to pop your cherry so you know what’s coming,” he hissed into the soft tresses.
Terror coursed through the young man as he fought. He felt the handcuffs again and sobbed softly. Jansen leaned against him, holding him to the mattress and restricting his movements. A moment later, he winced as he felt something thrust into his ass. The burning sensation brought tears to his eyes.
“Just breathe, Vin. Don’t fight it. I’ll make sure he uses lots of lube. Just calm down and try to relax,” Jansen cooed. After a couple of minutes, another finger was pushed into his body and Vin cried out as he resumed struggling. Mason shoved up against Vin, driving his fingers in deeply and trapping his groin against the edge of the mattress.
“Don’t make me hurt you, Vin.” Jansen removed his fingers and lubed them again. Using one knee, he forced Vin’s knees apart before inserting his fingers again. “That’s it, Vin. See, you can do this. Just think, five hundred a night. Only take you a few months to work off your debt.” He eased up on the grip he had on Vin’s shoulder and added another finger.
His stomach and thighs hurt from how tense he was. Vin chewed on his lower lip as he felt the stubby fingers moving in and out. He wanted nothing more than to put his hands around Mason’s neck and choke the life from him. When the fingers pulled out, he hoped it was over. He heard the zipper and felt the thick shaft press between his cheeks. Jansen pushed into him slowly, giving him time to get used to the new sensation. The burning, stretching feeling built until he cried out.
“It hurts!” Vin tossed his head from side to side as he twisted his hands in the cuffs.
“Try to relax. Don’t bear down. You’re making it harder on yourself,” Jansen warned.
It seemed to go on forever, the thrusting shaft pounding into him. After a while, it didn’t hurt but it didn’t feel good either. When he felt the rhythm of the strokes break, he hoped it was over. He felt the pulsing inside as the warm fluid shot into his bowels. After a few more strokes, Jansen pulled out slowly. He patted Vin, like he was a beloved dog.
“Just hold still for a minute and I’ll clean you up.”
After a warm, damp cloth was applied to his aching behind, the handcuffs were removed. Vin backed to the corner and curled into a ball. His stomach was heaving and it was a struggle not to be sick. He glared up at the businessman as he spoke again.
“I’ll be back later to loosen you up again and I’ve got something that will help with the pain.”
“I ain’t takin’ drugs!”
“Not at all, Vin. It’s a topical analgesic, a cream that will numb the skin. Get some sleep, I’ll send Maria down with lunch later.”
Jansen left, turning the lights down as he pulled the door closed. Vin gradually pulled his shaking body up from the floor and made his way to the bathroom where he suffered through dry heaves for several minutes. Spotting the shower, he turned on the hot water and stood under it as he scrubbed furiously, trying to rid his skin of the memory of Mason’s touch. When the water cooled, he dried off and curled up on the bed, falling into an exhausted sleep.
Several hours later, he was awakened by a gentle touch. Jerking away from the small hand, he backed up against the wall, shuddering.
“Calm down, senor, I brought your lunch. Mr. Jansen thought you might want some Tylenol.”
Vin’s heartbeat steadied as he saw that it was only the pretty Mexican woman in the cell with him. His eyes swept past her to the tray she had placed on the low table. A single dose packet of pain reliever lay next to the water glass. Nodding to the woman, he clutched the sheet to his chest.
“I’ll leave you to your meal,” she said as she backed off of the bed.
“What’s your name?” Vin asked softly.
“Maria. You must try to eat and take the Tylenol, it will help. And … don’t fight him. Big John will hurt you badly if you fight him.”
“Big John?”
“The man who has bought you for the night. It’s best if you lay very still and let him do what he wants. He will finish quickly and leave. If you resist, he will hurt you … badly,” she explained.
“Thank you, Maria.”
“De nada, Vin.”
He did manage to eat most of the food on the tray and took the Tylenol. As soon as his stomach was full, he lay back down and went back to sleep. Unfortunately, he could only sleep for a couple of hours. He then got up and paced in the cell. From the sounds carrying through the walls, he knew that the club was open and that customers were arriving. A knot of cold fear settled in his stomach.
Less than an hour later, Jansen returned. He appraised the nervous young man, trying to judge whether or not he was going to jump him. Vin retreated to the farthest corner of the room. His blue eyes burned with fear and anger.
“Come on, I don’t have a lot of time. Let’s get you ready for your big night.”
“What if I don’t want to do this?”
“Then I’ll have to use force and I don’t like to have to do that.”
“What if I go to the cops?”
“I’ll tell them that you came in here trying to peddle your wares. They’ll lock you up for prostitution. I can assure that you end up as someone’s bitch at the state pen. You’ll be giving it up every night for them with no hope of becoming a free man,” Mason warned. He saw the indecision and then the slumped shoulders as Vin resigned himself to his fate.
“What do I do?”
“Just kneel down here against the bed like before.”
The knot of fear in his stomach ballooned as he moved on shaky legs to the foot of the bed. Jansen didn’t crowd him, he let him settle for a minute before he moved up behind him. The businessman knelt down and rested a hand lightly on Vin’s hip.
“Just relax. I’ll start with the numbing crème,” Mason explained as he took the tube from his pocket. His stubby finger stroked the white crème across the puckered opening. “Did you talk to Maria?”
“Yes, sir. She told me not to resist.”
“That’s good advice. Big John could hurt you badly before we got in to rescue you. If he starts getting too rough with you, we’ll come in and stop him but he could still do a lot of damage before we get him off of you, understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Vin said softly. He hissed into the balled up sheet as Jansen began inserting his fingers. The lube was cool against his skin and he felt the slick fingers moving in and out of his ass. Mason wiggled his fingers until he touched something inside that caused Vin to jump.
“Yeah, I thought you’d like that. See, it can feel good, Vin, if you let it,” the man soothed as he lightly brushed over the young man’s prostate again. Within a few minutes, Vin was panting and rubbing his erection against the mattress. A few more touches and the young Texan gasped at the powerful orgasm that wracked his body. He was only barely aware of the additional fingers Jansen added as he continued to stretch the opening. After a couple of minutes, he wiped his hands on the towel he had dropped on the bed and patted Vin on the hip. “Take a minute and then grab a shower. I’ll send Big John down when he arrives.”
His muscles felt like silly putty in the afterglow of his orgasm. Vin slowly worked his way to his feet and back to the shower. He was still feeling vaguely nauseous but he didn’t hurt as badly as he had the first time. After a quick shower, he dried off and resumed pacing. In no time at all, the outer door opened and then the metal cell door. Vin stood, quaking in fear at the large man who stood facing him.
Brother Big-John Mosely was well over six feet tall and weighed close to two eighty. The man was all muscle. He grinned menacingly at the nervous young man. Rubbing his crotch, he watched the pale blue eyes sweep over him and delighted in the fear he saw blooming there. His brother Owen was serving a life sentence in the state pen for strangling his daughter Claire to death when he found out that she was pregnant out of wedlock and with a mixed race baby. John had taken over his brother’s small congregation and found that he thoroughly enjoyed all the amenities the small town had to offer.
“Get over here and help me undress!” he growled at Vin. The young man slowly approached him and reached out to take his dark, summer weight jacket. He hung it carefully on the hooks that lined the wall and returned to take the shirt John was peeling off. When he reached for his belt, Vin backed away.
John pulled his belt loose and unbuttoned his pants. He was getting turned on just watching the young man battling his fear. Kicking off his polished calfskin loafers, he dropped his pants. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face as he saw the look of fear that overtook the young man. Slowly, he bent over and picked up the pants, creasing the legs as he draped them over the back of the chair. As he turned around, he noticed that Vin was backed against the wall with his hands neatly covering his groin.
“Come on over here and let me have a look at you, boy,” John said. When Vin made no move to approach, he strode over and took him by the arm. In a moment, he had him up against the bed, one hand curled tightly into the long sienna tresses. As Vin struggled to free his hair, John pumped the lube dispenser and jammed his fingers into the young man’s ass. Vin cried out at the painful intrusion and continued to try to work the hand from his hair. When Mosely discovered that Vin was already slightly loose and lubed, he withdrew his fingers and impaled him with his shaft instead.
His breath left him so quickly that he couldn’t scream. Vin let go of the hand in his hair and tried to reach back for the man inflicting the pain. Mosely grabbed his hand and twisted it up on to his back, straining his shoulder and forcing him to lie still. Aside from the roar of his heartbeat in his ears, all Vin could hear was Big John grunting with every stroke. After a while, the pain ceased. Vin passed out, slumping to the floor at the foot of the bed. Big John peeled a hundred dollar bill from the roll in his pocket and dropped it on the bed.
“I’ll be back in a week, boy,” he warned before he left the room.
After his brutal initiation, Vin was too sore to ‘perform’ for the next two nights. He lay on the cot in his small room, being tended by the lovely Maria. Jansen offered him his choice of the birdcage or the cells when he was back on his feet. Realizing that he could make more in the cells and that he hated the confinement of the cages, he chose the cells. Each night, before he had to perform, he sat nervously chewing on his nails. His life evolved into a nightmarish routine. Wednesday through Saturday, he went to whoever bought him for the night. On Sunday, he was held on reserve for Big John. He found that if he didn’t resist, they would usually take their pleasure and leave, leaving him alone for the rest of the night. He was able to sleep, after a fashion, curled into a protective ball and wound in his sheet. After a couple of weeks, he approached Jansen with an offer.
“Mr. Jansen, sir, I’m doing what you told me to do but I need to get out of this building. I swear to you that I’ll come back at night like I’m supposed to if you’ll let me find something in town to do during the day. Please? I can’t take being shut up inside all the time,” Vin begged.
“You won’t try to skip out on your debt to me?”
“No, sir. I give you my word as a Tanner. I’ll come back and work just like I’ve been doing until I’ve paid back every cent.”
Thus began the divided part of his life. During the day, he worked on a nearby cattle spread and at night, he offered himself up to whoever bought him for the night. He survived for about six weeks that way. The money he earned during the day he put in a savings account for when he was free of Jansen. It gave him hope, something he had precious little of at night as he lay or knelt under some big bastard who wanted to get his rocks off.
One night, after a particularly rough day at work stringing fences, two young rich punks bought him for the night. Figuring they would take him one at a time, Vin knelt on the floor and waited. The two men laughed.
“Un-huh pretty boy. You got something else to do first,” the fair-haired one said as he stroked himself. “Get over here and open your mouth.”
Vin knew what they wanted and he couldn’t do it. The other man grabbed him and they soon had him immobilized on the bed, his arms and legs in the restraints attached to the bed frame. They held his nose and squeezed his balls until he opened his mouth to scream. Immediately, they forced something between his teeth that kept his mouth open. The first man knelt over him, pinning his shoulders, as he began to rub his penis across Vin’s lips. The other man knelt above Vin, holding his head securely between his knees to prevent him from being able to turn away. He felt the slick head rub against the roof of his mouth and tongue. Vin tried to scream, to thrash and toss them off, but he couldn’t. The first man came, filling Vin’s throat with his warm, bitter fluid. He choked, coughing and gagging while the two ruffians watched. When they let him go, Vin turned his head and puked on the bed. The men seemed unfazed by him being sick, they unshackled him, dragged him to the end of the bed and took him there. It was one of his first trips to the hospital.
The only thing that kept Vin sane during all of his torment was the knowledge that they couldn’t touch his soul. No matter what they did to him physically, he still owned his soul. Nothing any of them did to him could touch the part of himself that he kept buried deep inside. All of that changed the day the darkly clothed blond man walked into his world.
He had been working all afternoon throwing hay bales. The end of the growing season had come and the owner of the property had cut the tall grass to dry. They had used a bush hog to cut everything down and the hot sun had dried it thoroughly. They had tossed the dried grass into the baler and now they were loading the bales to stack in the barn for winter. He barely made it back in time to get showered before Jude was after him about getting into costume. He was left with the black pouch. Because he had a tendency to shove people who tried to touch him, Jansen had him put in handcuffs before he went down to the floor. It also piqued interest in him and got him snapped up quickly.
Stepping out of the room, Vin was temporarily blinded by the searchlight that panned the crowd before sweeping the upper balcony. Jude nudged him into line near the end of the group. There were scores of people cheering and staring as he came down the stairs. Across the room against the bar, a tall blond stood looking up as the line of semi-nude bodies descended. Their eyes met for an instant and Vin felt something stir in his stomach. The feeling plummeted to his toes when the man turned away and spoke to the bartender. When he reached the landing between the floors, he backed away from the bars, away from the hands reaching for him. His heart leapt into his throat when he saw the blond man approach the bars. He was staring so intently at the tight black jeans and cowboy boots that he didn’t hear the bouncer call his name. The hand that grabbed his arm startled him and he struggled briefly before he was shoved toward the lower dungeon door. When it slammed behind them, the blond turned. The bouncer chuckled as he intoned ‘the point of no return.’
Fear gripped him when he was alone with the man. He still felt the stirring in his stomach but he was afraid that he would be rough. The bouncer had pointed out the bondage tools and whips in the case along the wall before he left. The man looked uncertain for a moment.
“My name’s Chris,” the blond said. “Come here and I’ll take those things off of you.”
Vin moved across the room and offered his bound hands. The man’s touch was gentle as he expertly removed the cuffs. Chris asked his name and he answered. When the blond crossed the room and reached out to touch him, Vin flinched. The blond assured him that he wouldn’t hurt him. Chris began to undress and Vin moved to help. He could feel the heat from the man’s body and smell his cologne. Chris cupped his hand, noticing his red, irritated fingertips and suggested that he pour them each a drink. Fearing that he would become sick if he drank anything, he turned down the drink. Chris tossed back the shot and grabbed him, thrusting his tongue past Vin’s lips. As the kiss deepened, he found himself sucking on the swirling, moving tongue and gripped the blond man’s hips. He felt himself propelled toward the bed. He resisted slightly and Chris broke the kiss to assure him again that he wouldn’t hurt him. When the blond told him to lay down, he automatically went to his stomach and tried to prepare for what he knew was coming. A silky, sexy voice told him to turn over and Chris lay down beside him. With a warm, soft, gentle touch, the blond touched him and his heartbeat raced. When the hand stroked his groin, he couldn’t help but moan.
Confusion took hold of Vin as Chris stroked and kissed his way down his body. His body leapt uncontrollably when the blond began to suck on his penis. The blond used his weight to hold him down and continued to pleasure him. Vin clenched his fists in the sheet as he chewed on his lower lip. He wanted to scream and thrust into the warm, moist cavern but he fought the urge. When he felt an elbow nudging his thighs apart, he mindlessly complied. He was so hard that he hurt and he wanted to let go but still he fought. When Chris began to roll his balls gently, he whimpered and lost control. He came so hard that he saw sparkles behind his eyes. The delicious suction continued for several moments. He wasn’t even really aware when the blond pulled away until he felt the tongue invade his mouth again. Like a starving infant, he started to suck only to be repelled by the taste of semen. He jerked back, fighting for control of his stomach.
“Please don’t!” Vin cried as he shuddered. “It’s bad enough I have to taste it when …” The blue eyes suddenly widened in fear. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they were wrong. If a customer complained, Jansen would have to give back the money and he would be upset. “Please don’t … report me!”
The blond had reassured him that he wouldn’t report him and Vin settled into a soothing embrace. A moment later, Chris got up and poured himself another drink. Deciding to try to placate the man, Vin slipped out of bed and tried to convince himself that he could perform oral sex. A firm hand pushed him away. The blond said only that he wanted to be in him. They settled together on the bed again. Chris gently stretched him before lifting his legs to rest against the blond man’s chest. When he felt the warm head of the engorged shaft press against him, he tensed. A firm hand rolled his balls and stroked the sensitive skin under them. When he moaned in pleasure, the blond impaled him. He gave Chris a dirty look only to have him make a joke. He was right, though, it didn’t hurt.
Compared to all the other times he had been made to offer up his body, this time was different. Chris was gentle. He didn’t try to hurt him and touched him, stroking him until he was close to coming. He made Vin open his eyes and look at him as he thrust again, setting off his orgasm. He writhed on the bed, opening his eyes in time to see the blond throw back his head, his mouth open in a silent scream. When Chris sagged against him, twitching in the throes of his orgasm, Vin caught him and eased him to the mattress.
When he tried to clean up the mess he’d made, Chris caught hold of him and pulled him back into the bed. He was spooned around as the blond fitted their bodies together. Under the sheet, both men dropped into a sated, sound sleep. For the first time since Ely Joe framed him for killing Jess Kincaid, Vin felt safe. He was awakened in the morning by and insistent touch. When he started to pull away, Chris whispered that he wouldn’t hurt him and he immediately relaxed. After stretching and preparing him, the blond drew him to the foot of the bed and pushed his thighs up, telling him to hold on. He used both hands to stimulate Vin until he came. Afterwards, they cleaned up and Chris dressed. The blond kissed him soundly before leaving. He said he would see him around.
Feeling energized, Vin showered and got dressed for work. He happily straddled the old Honda motorcycle and headed for the cattle ranch. The sun seemed brighter and the world a happier place as he went about his work. He rode out to a little roadside gas station to get a sandwich and a bottle of Coke for his lunch. He spotted an unusual bandana hanging next to the register. The color reminded him of the hazel eyes of the blond and he bought it with a slight grin. His happy mood lasted just until he remembered what day it was. As he passed the little whitewashed chapel and heard the closing hymn, he realized that he would be facing Big John that night. His happy mood evaporated.
Jude handed him the snow-white pouch and told him to hurry. Vin stepped up to the door and accepted the handcuffs. His chin hung to his chest as he stepped out to the balcony. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Big John. His heart sank when he spotted the blond, Chris, his arms stretched out around the bars of one of the birdcages, getting a blowjob from one of the girls. When the hazel eyes locked on his, he tried to hide his hurt. To his surprise, Chris crossed the lounge and handed his card to the bouncer. He was pushed through the barred door and the cuffs removed. Chris offered to buy him a drink. Somehow, the blond had found out about the money he owed Jansen. He offered to loan him the money to buy out the rest of the contract. From some deep well of resentment, Vin attacked the blond verbally and then physically. The guards grabbed him and threw him against the bar. They offered to deliver him to his cell to await Chris’s pleasure. He kicked and fought until they strapped his ankles together and carried him away.
In the cell, they strapped him to the bed. A smooth, polished wooden paddle was brought out. A light pass with a washcloth assured that the blows would have maximum sting. Five swats on each cheek, accompanied by taunts and laughter, left him writhing in his bonds. The one swinging the paddle bent down and ruffled his hair before he left the cell. Alone with the stinging humiliation, Vin let go a few bitter tears. He managed to get himself under control just before Chris arrived.
After releasing him from his bonds, Chris made some small talk. Vin snapped angrily at him. The next thing he knew, the blond was straddling his hips and massaging his shoulders. He was horrified when he woke up later and realized that he’d fallen asleep. To make it up to Chris, he started stroking him, trying to arouse him. As he watched the shaft fill and lengthen, he realized that he wanted Chris to be inside him. He wanted that physical joining that matched the soul bond that he felt inside.
“I want to ride you,” Vin whispered when he saw the hazel eyes open. He reveled in Chris’s gentle stretching. When he moved to straddle the blond, firm hands supported him. Vin impaled himself on the throbbing shaft, his eyes suffused with animal lust. He couldn’t believe it when Chris grasped his shaft and matched his strokes. They came together and he toppled forward into the blond man’s arms. He shuddered through his orgasm with Chris’s hand tenderly cupping the back of his neck.
Chris told him that he’d paid off the contract and Vin went ballistic. He ranted and raved and demanded that he take it back. In the end, Chris only gave him a last glance and invited him to look him up if he was ever in Denver.
Before he left the building that morning, Mason caught his arm and told him that the debt was paid in full. He invited him to stay on if he wanted. Vin demanded that Jansen refund the money, that he would stay and work off the debt but the businessman said he couldn’t do that unless he wanted to wait until the contract was fully paid, then he would refund the money. Vin stormed angrily out to his bike and roared down the highway.
He tried to stay and continue to do the job. He made it only as far as Sunday. When Big John Mosely stared at him through the bars, he made up his mind. Turning his back on the approaching man, he told the bouncer that he was quitting. He’d made sure that Mason told all of the bouncers that he was a free man so they wouldn’t try to force him to go with any customer if he didn’t want to go. Larry stepped closer to the bars and offered himself to Mosely after tossing a haughty look at Vin.
Jansen gave him a check for his cut of his sales for the week and wished him luck. He said if Vin ever wanted to come back to work that he would be more than welcome. Shaking the man’s hand, he was truly grateful to him for the freedom to get on his bike and ride away.
The next three years were a blur. The army rangers were thrilled to have him and pleaded with him to stay. He tried his hand at bounty hunting but there was a gnawing emptiness inside. It was a complete fluke that he happened to see the notice in the Denver police station as he was turning in a bounty. He’d been in the Denver area for a year and had made friends with a social worker named Nettie Wells when he became involved with one of her charges. He shyly approached her to ask if she would help him with the paperwork. He didn’t figure he stood a snowball’s chance in hell of getting the job but he wanted to try.
Weeks passed and he didn’t hear from anyone at the ATF. He just figured that he was so horribly under qualified that they had laughed him off. When he got home to his tiny Purgatory apartment one night, there was a message on his machine. Could he be at the Federal building at ten in the morning the day after tomorrow? After he danced around his dinky little living room for a few minutes, he called Nettie.
“I need your help. They called me for an interview and I don’t know what to wear,” he told her excitedly. Nettie agreed to meet him over lunch the next day to buy new clothes for the interview. She told him how happy she was for him before they hung up.
The next day, Vin cleaned out his jeep so Nettie would have a place to put her feet. She helped him to choose suitable clothes that would be appropriate without making him too uncomfortable. He couldn’t get the smile off of his face as he hugged the older woman. She coached him about the answers to the questions. Her confidence in him bolstered his confidence. He barely slept that night, he was so wired.
Vin Tanner entered the Federal building the next morning, twenty minutes early for his interview. His hand shook as the guards checked his ID and directed him toward the elevators. He shuddered slightly at stepping into the small car but he pushed down his unease. The doors opened and he stepped out to face a set of etched glass doors. The ATF logo was most prominent in the center of each door. Below the logo were block letters proclaiming it the offices of Team Seven. He swallowed hard and pushed open the door and walked down to the secretary’s desk. She smiled up warmly at him as he told her that he was there for an interview. Pointing toward a row of chairs, she told him to make himself comfortable. Unable to sit still, he stood and read over the assortment of plaques that adorned the wall. The name of the team leader, the man he would be interviewing with, was on nearly every one. He felt good that the man’s name was Chris. Ever since he’d left ‘The Dungeon,’ men with that name seemed especially kind to him. Hearing the door open behind him, he turned.
“Mr. Tanner, a pleasure to meet you. Come in and have a seat,” the handsome blond said. Vin shook his hand firmly and felt a familiar lurch in his stomach. He took the designated chair and drummed his fingers nervously as he looked around.
“Nice office,” he said as he waited for Chris to sit down. As Vin watched the man study the folder, he realized that the hazel eyes were familiar. When the ATF team leader looked up, sky blue eyes locked on hazel. While he waited for the interview to begin, he blurted out the question that was bouncing happily on his tongue.
“Have we met before?”
End