By Mister-X / Spartan

The phone rang. I picked it up. “Vincenzi’s Removals.”

“This is a special job.” I recognized the voice as someone I had done business with before.

“Who?”

I was given a name and an address.

“Any special problems? Public official? Wife and kids?”

“No, just a big pain in my ass.”

“You know my terms. Cash only, half up front, half after the job is done.”

“I’ll be there for the first payment in half an hour. We’ll both be at a meeting tonight that should go on for a couple of hours.”

When I had been given the first payment, the client left, and I got my assistant. After our regular business hours were over for my legitimate business, I closed up the shop, I got my assistant and went to see where my next removal job was located. We first drove past and took a look at the house. The lights were on, so we kept going. We parked a block away and walked back. We took a second look when walking by the house. Just after we had gone by, the lights went out in the front, and we heard a car start up and leave from the house.

We walked back near the house, and my assistant went around back while I stood looking, making like I was trying to determine the address. After I heard a door open in the back, I went up to the front door and rang the bell. I waited a bit, and my assistant opened the door to let me in.

We checked the bedroom and found spare clothes. so we could determine exact sizes. While I was checking out his shirts, pants sizes and suits, my assistant said, “look at these.”

When I looked at what he was referring to, I said, “Interesting. I wonder if he’s a top or a bottom.”

My assistant looked some more and said, “He must be a bottom. The clothes are all the same size.”

“Perfect. He should enjoy his new role in life. Why don’t you take one of those suitcases and start packing his gear while we wait for him to return. And if you find any receipts for purchasing that stuff, bring those, too.”

We’d found out what we wanted. My assistant found a place to hide out after he’d finished packing, while I went to get the necessary gear. When I returned, our new target hadn’t returned yet, so my assistant let me in. We waited for him to return.

We heard the car drive up and were waiting by the connecting door. When he entered and closed the door, we greeted him with our weapons drawn. It was easy. We attached the gear that I brought, a one-piece all-in-one that needs to be custom fitted, and kept him immobile in the house while I got our van. I drove his car to my place and drove it into our garage. I drove back in our van and parked it in his garage, using his garage door opener to close the door.

Once back, we led him out to the van and got him laid down inside the back. We attached the chains from the sides to make sure he couldn’t get up. My assistant and I locked up the house and got into the passenger side of our van. We took off our gloves, which we wore to make sure we would leave no fingerprints. We used his garage door opener to open his garage door, backed out, and drove off. We drove into my garage, helped the guy out, took him into the special room and left him standing there, and I had my assistant drive the guy’s car back to his garage, close the garage door, close the door to the house, and leave out the back way. Nice and neat. No prints, no sign of forced entry, nothing out of place. The guy just suddenly disappears without a trace.

While my assistant was taking care of that detail, I called the client to tell him that the job had been taken care of, that he could come down and see for himself, and to also bring the second half of the payment.

The client was there in a half hour, and I let him in. I took him to the room outside of the special room, one that had one-way glass that we could see the victim through, but he couldn’t see out of. The victim was standing there with my special piece of gear attached to him. It consists of a strong metal pole that has five attachments: a metal butt plug hook at the bottom, handcuffs welded to the pole, a leather plug gag at the top, an elastic blindfold at the very top, and a wide leather posture collar beneath the gag that forces the front chin up high when it is buckled shut. I have a whole series of these in various sizes, and the only special requirement is to first find the appropriate size one to use, making sure that the butt hook fits tightly, the arms were stretched down to the max before the wrists were cuffed, and the chin is forced as high as possible, pushing the gag closed.

“You’ll take care of making sure that this guy disappears and is never seen again?”

“That’s what I do. You know that. Why do you have to ask? Has something happened to make you doubt me?”

The client started getting nervous when he could see me start to get a little testy. “No, no. It’s just that it’s important that this guy disappear. I just wanted to make sure.”

“Be comfortable in that.”

“Good. Here’s the second payment. I just hope no one ever hires you to remove me. I sure wouldn’t want to find myself attached to one of those. Goodness knows I’ve made enough enemies.”

“If that happens and they pay me, I’ll do it as just another job. I have no loyalties except to these pictures of Franklin and Jackson on green paper.”

I counted the money to make sure it was all there, used bills, and when the client was sure that I was satisfied, he left. My next step was to take the new victim down to my dungeon and add him to my stock of captive men I play with. I was glad to see that he was already into bondage, so I wouldn’t have to break him in like I sometimes had to do.

I got my assistant, who had by then returned, and together we removed the victim from the special room and started taking him away. He was mumbling into his gag, but we just ignored his mumbles. I started talking to him. “I’m taking you to your new home. You’ve been specially selected to be part of my group of captives I keep always in bondage and periodically play with. I’m sure you will like this new life you will be leading, since you’re already into the lifestyle. My assistant here took the liberty of removing your toys from your house, so that your relatives won’t know about that part of you when they come to clean out your belongings. You won’t be needing any other possessions you have now that you’re here.”

When he started mumbling into his gag again in response, I said, “No need to thank me now. You can save the thanks until after your beatings. If you don’t thank me after I do that, you’ll find out what real punishment is like. Yes, you’re going to like it here.”

We took him to place him under an overhanging chain, and lowered the chain to attach to the ring at the top end of the pole before pulling the chain taut. Then we started cutting off his clothes.

When we revealed his cock, it was hard and erect, already dripping pre-cum. It was time to show this guy what his future was going to be like. We removed his blindfold so he could look around. What he saw caused his eyes to open wide, and he let out an involuntary gasp. I let him get a good look around, slowly moving him around under the chain, letting him see all the torture devices, most of which I made at my shop, and all the other guys who were attached to some of them, naked bodies with numerous scars and welts. His cock had gotten even harder.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get your chance to experience those. I told you that you were going to love it here.”

His eyes looked at me. They were wide with fear. I love seeing that in a new guy. My cock started getting hard. This guy is going to be fun. I haven’t had a new guy in almost two years. I am so looking forward to this.

A few days later that client called again. “We need to talk. The removal didn’t completely get rid of that pest. Would it be possible for you to discredit him?”

“I can, but it will cost you more.”

“I figured that. How much?”

I told him. He said, “You’ll guarantee that you can do that?”

“There you go questioning me again. Haven’t I always delivered for you?”

“Yes, yes, you have. I apologize. I’ll be over with the first half payment in a half hour.”

I knew that all I needed was some porn shots of the guy with someone else, as well as having the receipts made available. It would help to have a letter from someone else setting up a rendezvous for the night he disappeared, and have this be included. It could be a blackmail letter, enclosing the photos I planned to take.

I had a couple of friends I’d done favors for who lived out of town. I called them and explained what I needed, and in a couple of hours got a call back saying that they had a couple of guys who would do the job. I knew they wanted a fee for their work, which was only fair. I got hold of them, explained what was needed, and we discussed payment. They said what they wanted, and I said I would pay that much, with an additional bonus depending on the quality of the end product. They seemed happy with that.

I was glad that I hadn’t started being too rough on the new guy. It wouldn’t look good if he had too many wounds and scars. We set about getting the necessary scene set up. At the scheduled time, the two guys showed up. One of them was to play the part of the sex partner, while the other took the pictures. I had set up another room for the action to take place in, and had drugged the victim so that he would be very willing and pliable.

In that drugged state, with some Viagra added for the obvious benefit, the scene went off without a hitch. The victim enjoyed doing the scene. He seemed to be in much better spirits since coming here. The pictures came out great, and I paid the two their fee plus a generous bonus. The one who was the sex partner was wearing a partial hood, so that his face could not be recognized.

I got the letter from one of my out-of-town friends, one who had an iron-clad alibi for the evening in question, should that ever arise, which would be a very remote possibility. It was also someone who bore no resemblance to the sex partner.

I called the client and told him to bring the other half payment with him. When he arrived I showed him the letter and the photos, as well as a copy of a receipt in which the victim had purchased some of his gear. I said, “I can arrange to have these sent anonymously, but I need you to tell me who to send them to.”

My client was nervous about that. He said, “Anyone who needs to receive it would immediately suspect me of arranging the whole thing.”

“Then take some time and think about the best way of having this presented so that it discredits the victim.” The client left without paying me.

I was getting a little frustrated. I’ve been looking forward to playing with the victim ever since I got him in my dungeon, and I haven’t been able to yet.

I finally got the idea of having my friend who wrote the letter, posing himself as the blackmailer, sending a copy of the photos with another letter to the victim, but addressing it to the next door neighbor’s address, saying in the letter that he hadn’t heard back, and enclosing another copy of the first letter and the photos. I called my client, and he liked the idea. So I went ahead with it. I also told my client that it was time for him to come up with the rest of the payment. But he still stalled, saying that if the neighbor just throws the letter away, then the victim still will not have been discredited. I could see his point, so I waited. The local paper had gotten wind of the letter and printed an article about ‘an unexpected twist to the disappearance.’ I got the second half of the payment from the client.

I was now free to start playing with that new guy. I was planning to start that weekend. I like to start with a nice, long session, since it often takes time to break them in to the point where they accept their new role. But that afternoon another snag occurred. I was paid a visit by a local cop. He said that he was investigating the disappearance of one of their residents a few weeks ago and was told that someone looking like me had been seen going into that guy’s house. He wondered where I had been on that night in question.

I had prepared an alibi just in case this might happen. But I played it coy, since people normally don’t remember where they were on a particular night several weeks later. So I stalled him while I got out my calendar, on which I’d also written down my alibi for that night. I told him that I’d been playing cards with some friends, and gave them their names and addresses. I had previously prepared them for this should my alibi be questioned, and they were willing to stick their necks out, since they all owed me favors. The cop went away, satisfied that it wasn’t me.

But that visit made me nervous. I decided to call up my friends and shoot the breeze about something else, like when we were going to be getting together again for another card game, and just casually reminded them of my alibi, though telling them not to make it obvious that they should happen to remember immediately if questioned. I decided to postpone again playing with that guy until this latest concern died down. This guy was getting to be a pain in my ass, and I hadn’t even had a chance to be a pain in his yet.

That client called me again. He was visibly shaken when he was talking to me. “What now?” I asked.

“The cops are questioning me about that guy’s disappearance. You haven’t given them any idea that I was involved, have you?”

“No. Have you given them any idea that I was involved?”

“No.” Then I got a chilling thought.

“What phone are you calling me from?”

“The one in my office. But don’t worry, they aren’t here to overhear any conversation.”

“You idiot! They’ve probably tapped your phone. Hang up immediately.” He did.

Now I was getting nervous. Had they tracked down whom he had called? Had we been on the phone long enough for them to do that? Or could they re-create the phone number from the beeps when the call was placed? How panicky should I be?

I had a friend who often gave tips to the police and whom they were used to seeing down at headquarters, and I told him to look out for my client being taken in for questioning. I also told another trusted guy to hang around my client’s place of business, making sure first that he was there, and then waiting to see if the police came and took him in for questioning. I had several operatives I sometimes used who I paid well for their services, something that someone in my line of work had to employ. I couldn’t think of anything else I needed to do, so I got back to my normal business to try to take my mind off my worries.

The phone rang. It was the guy I had stationed at my client’s business. He told me that the police had taken my client in for questioning. He was taken away in handcuffs. Almost immediately after I hung up the phone the other operative called and told me that my client had been taken in to police headquarters in cuffs. I decided it was time to take a little vacation. But that was when there was a knock on my office door. The police were there with a warrant for my arrest.

I was taken in for questioning, hands in cuffs. They had tapped my client’s phone and were asking me about that phone call. I told them that I wasn’t going to say anything until my lawyer was present. They allowed me to call him, and he was soon there. He advised me not to say anything, that the only evidence they had was that phone call. We both hoped that my client was smart enough not to incriminate himself any further.

My big concern was whether the cops would find my storage facility, the one where that guy and the others were housed. I’d set it up to be pretty hard to find. My assistant was always there, only leaving when I needed him to assist me in a job. I kept a large store of food there, so he wouldn’t be needing to leave for that.

The cops soon realized that they wouldn’t be getting any information out of me, but they had the evidence of the phone call. So they arrested me on suspicion, based on that. My lawyer said that I would be out on bail before long, and it wasn’t long after I’d been booked that I was. I was ordered not to leave town lest bail be revoked. I didn’t know whether my client was still in the local slammer.

When I got back, my legitimate business employees were all abuzz about everything the cops had looked at and taken with them. There wasn’t anything there that should show any reference to my illegitimate business, so I figured they could spend all the time they wanted on that stuff. All I could do was to wait and sweat. I needed to alert my assistant, and tried to figure out how to do that without raising suspicion. The only way to contact him was to enter the facility myself. I decided to wait a few days until things cooled down before I attempted to do that.

I wasn’t able to wait. The police had discovered something I hadn’t thought about. They checked the utility usage against what my building would be expected to use, and discovered a discrepancy, that I used more electricity and gas than would be expected. So they figured that there was another building there somewhere, most likely underground. They started checking to see where cables were leading, and found some leading in the direction where my dungeon was located. They started checking thoroughly for an entrance to it, and they finally found it where it was hidden.

All this I wasn’t aware of until they asked me to accompany them to the hidden entrance. “Mr. Vincenzi, where does this go to?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t used that door since I moved into this place.”

“You don’t have a key to it, then?”

“No, Sir.” They had brought a locksmith along with them, and they had him remove the lock. I figured they had already tried to use their skeleton keys to open it without success. It’s not an easy lock to open. All I could do was wait.

Finally they opened the door and entered. here was my dungeon revealed to them, along with my recently abducted addition and my assistant. The police immediately grabbed and cuffed me and my assistant and sent for additional cops, along with medical personnel. Both I and my assistant were taken away.

I later found out from my lawyer what had happened afterward. They got all the guys out of their restraints and took them away to a hospital for medical evaluation. Except for my recently abducted addition, they were all found to be in good health except for the noticeable scars. The new guy didn’t have any scars.

But what was the shocker to the police was that none of the guys wanted to be removed from that dungeon! After a couple of years and more of being played with by me, the others had settled into their new lives of being housed, fed and having no worries other than the occasional beating, which they were able to better tolerate in their improved physical condition. And the new guy had been frustrated over the years in not having a play partner to put him into bondage and abuse him. The others had told him that they liked it there, and the new guy was secretly looking forward to it!

The police still went ahead and filed kidnapping charges against me, hoping that at least one of the victims would change their minds and testify. But my lawyer told them that we would soon be back to our former arrangement, since that was what they wanted. The victims banded together to support me. I was touched at their desire to have me back, and surprised that the ones who hadn’t been exposed to this lifestyle before now craved it.

The District Attorney was frustrated, and chewed out the ‘victims’ before having the charges against me dropped. I was now free to go back and resume my dungeon fun with the guys. They were all back as well. But my life had changed considerably.

With all the publicity this case brought, I was now besieged with guys who wanted to join the others. I didn’t have to abduct any new ones. I decided to charge any new ones a fee, since there were costs associated with keeping them. Many of them were wealthy and were quite willing to agree. I had my lawyer draw up contracts, and they were soon new additions.

I finally had a chance to play with the new guy. Both of us had been looking forward to it. I took that weekend to get him adjusted just like I always did. I hadn’t had such a willing victim before, actually wanting to be tortured. His cock was very frustrated at being shown what he’d always wanted, looking forward to experiencing it, and then having it taken away from him. At last he was getting his desires satisfied. He had been a pain in the ass for my client, but that was because of his sexual frustrations. Now he was a pleasant guy to deal with, as the others had become.

All the employees in my legitimate business had quit. They didn’t expect me to be coming out of the slammer and didn’t want to continue working for someone who had a stable of slaves at his disposal like I did. I didn’t blame them. They weren’t into this lifestyle. But by then I’d accumulated enough money to not need the legitimate business any more, though my lawyer cleaned out a significant amount of my stash. But there was enough to continue living comfortably.

Now I could spend all my time having fun with my stable of slaves. They like it, and I like it. I even closed my illegitimate business. And I made a deal with the IRS to pay taxes on the money I’d illegitimately earned and hadn’t paid taxes on. I was clear with everyone. It seemed strange. After all those years of having to worry about making sure that I had all my bases covered with my illegitimate business, I now didn’t have to worry about that any more. My illegitimate business was now a legitimate business. It took some of the fun out of it.

My problem now was one of scheduling all my victims so they are satisfied. They all want to be tortured, and I’ve got so many of them that it’s starting to wear on me. I realized that I was soon going to need a vacation from their needs so I could recuperate.

With the internet, I had gotten to know quite a few other tops, and had chatted with them. I approached a couple of them to see if they would be interested in joining me to help satisfy my clients, as I now considered them to be. A couple of them were willing to do so for free, moving into my house and starting to spend full time at my facility. After acquainting them with my clients and their needs, I told them that I needed a vacation, and was going to be leaving the facility in their care while I was gone. They were more than willing to do that.

I was wondering how things were going as I was lounging on the beach down in Mexico. There was still another week left in my vacation. I’d heard about a similar facility in Guatemala called “Bondage Fantasy World,” and was planning to spend a day or two there looking at their facility, exchanging ideas with them. This concept of setting up facilities to satisfy people’s bondage needs seems to be a huge unmet need. It is like a burgeoning new business, and I’m one of the ones on the ground floor.

 

Metal would like to thank Mister-X / Spartan for this his latest story!