Aberto Rubiano smiled as he got out of the cab that had taken him on the last leg of his journey across Italy. The 15 year old boy had a lot on his mind. His family was having real problems right now, and he probably shouldn't have traveled to meet up with his boyfriend at a time like this, but he just couldn't help it. He was a normal, healthy 15 year old boy, and had all the raging hormones of a 15 year old boy. He was also gay. He didn't mind so much. In the year 2008, most of Italy was pretty okay with homosexuals, and Aberto had a wonderful boyfriend, a few years older than himself.
Antonio was waiting right in front of the movie theatre as agreed. Aberto paid the drive and then turned to his boyfriend. Antonio grabbed Aberto's ass and they hugged, but just for a quick moment. Then, without a word to each other, they set off down the alley to the rear of the theater.
In the old days, the theater had many basement level dressing rooms. These days, the rooms were used for liaisons between lovers. Antonio whispered in Aberto's ear as they walked hand in hand down the long flight of stairs in the dimly lit outdoor stairway, "I found us a new boy to play with. He's 16 and is a little taller than you. He's a Brit footballer here with his team."
Aberto giggled at the thought of another naughty three-way. He loved being in the middle of an all boy sandwich. Antonio, 19 years old now, was only 16 when the two met. Aberto had a crush on the older boy from the moment they met, but it was years later when they first kissed and held each other. In fact, it had only been a little over 9 months now. Aberto burned for Antonio's touch every time that they were apart.
Once in their little room, Aberto was introduced to the British boy. At 16, he was a pretty big lad. He was over 6 foot, and a football player at that. He was already nude, since he and Antonio had been messing around with each other before Antonio went up to wait for Aberto. Now, introductions made, the boys stripped as Simon played with his already stiff cock.
Aberto dropped onto the bed next to the boy, and they began to kiss. Antonio smirked, "Leave some of his tongue for me!" and all three boys laughed out loud. The three young men fell back on the bed, and their arms, legs, and torsos all ended up in a twisted configuration that eventually lead to this being inserted into that, and so forth.
It was when Aberto was at his peak, his cock deeply embedded in the British lad, and Antonio's huge cock lovingly thrusting in and out of his own rectum at the same time that there was a loud crash at the door. Two men burst in, and Antonio was up and swinging before Aberto could react at all. The first man grabbed Antonio and smashed his head into the wall. The 19 year old lay there bleeding. Simon let out a war-cry and charged the man closest to him, and they grappled while Aberto tried to fight off the other man. When a third man appeared, and shoved Simon out of the room, the British lad took that as a sign to run. He ran to the far end of the hallway and around a corner, hiding behind a large stack of boxes. The men didn't chase after him.
Now it was three on one, and the men soon had Aberto tied up, and as they dragged him kicking and struggling out of the room, he stared at Antonio, who lay bleeding on the floor. The three men dragged Aberto out of the building.
Minutes later, just after Simon carefully snuck back to the room, to get his clothes and check on Antonio, two more men appeared in the doorway. Simon shrunk back. The men were very intimidating. Simon eyed them up carefully as they looked him and the unconscious lad over.
Glenn said to me, "Is that the one, on the floor?" "Yes, I replied as Glenn picked the young man up and slung him over his shoulder. "What about the other one?"
I glared at the very scared lad. "This one I don't know about. What's your name, lad?" I asked. "S...Simon" the boy stuttered. "British?" I asked, hearing his accent in a single word. "Yes, sir" he replied. "Want to get out of this intact?" "Yes, sir!" he replied. I liked the boy, and smiled at Glenn.
Glenn nodded and slammed the door shut and dropped the unconscious guy to the floor. I sat down on the bed and said, "Then blow me". The boy, I never knew his name was Simon, knelt down and unzipped my pants. Glenn watched us, slowly stroking his own cock as the boy slurped on my dick. He was pretty damn good at sucking cock, and it didn't take me long to cum. Then, Glenn and I changed places and the boy choked a bit on Glenn's long dick, but he handled it pretty well. The boy didn't suck like a pro, so I assumed he was pretty innocent in this whole mess. When he was done sucking off Glenn, and quietly choking down Glenn's huge load of cum, we talked in the corner.
We agreed. The boy would be left right here, with a warning to never tell anyone what happened. I warned him good, and he agreed. We all got dressed, and I picked up the still unconscious Antonio. We were ready to go, when Glenn got a sly smile on his face. "Meet you in the car" he said.
I waited for him for thirty minutes in the car, with Antonio tied up in the trunk. I knew what he was doing. He was giving the young British lad a quick going over. On the drive back across country, Glenn told the story of what happened.
"I knew the kid was already scared, but wanted to make a real impression on him, so I stripped off and threw him on the bed. I ripped his clothes off, and the buttons on his shirt went flying this way and that. I pulled down his pants and ripped a huge hole in the crotch of his underwear. I spit on my dick a few times, and held the boy down on the bed. I slammed my dick into his tight little ass. He howled, but I could tell from the way he tried to relax right away that I wasn't his first. I humped his little ass, all the while telling him that I would 'out' him to his family if he ever told anyone, even the cops, about anything that happened tonight. As I screwed him, I smacked his ass hard enough to let him know that I meant what I said. I knew, when I was done with him, that I had put the fear of god into him. Not to mention a big ol' load of my jizz. And, when I was done and getting dressed, he actually rolled over and showed me the wet spot he had made on the bed while I was raping him, and he thanked me for the fuck. How about that? He thanks me. I think we should look that boy up if we ever get to England."
I agreed. There was a thump from the trunk. Antonio was awake. Good. Soon enough we were going to need him.
Felecia Abaco sat in his very comfortable, $3,000 office chair. He stared at the 15 year old boy sitting in front of him. The boy fidgeted, and squirmed, but said nothing. The boy, Aberto Rubiano, was the son of Felecia's most hated enemy, Eberardo Rubiano. The Abaco and Rubiano families were two of the oldest in the Manfredonia/Foggia area of Italy for at least a thousand years. Now they were in the middle of a very quiet turf war. It had carefully been kept out of the press. Knowledge of the war was not in the general public, but a turf war between the families had attracted the attention of local police. Eberardo Rubiano was in hiding. He had fled the area with his family, and it was only by pure luck that one of Abaco's men spotted the boy on the streets of Salarno. Abaco had friends in Salarno, so he knew that the Rubiano family was not there. No, the boy had ran away from his families safe hiding spot just to join friends at a very popular underground gay hang out. It was during a long night of hot boy on boy sex that young Aberto was caught by men working for his families enemies.
Felecia only had to clear his throat, and the boy was dragged away, screaming.
Twenty four hours later, Glenn and I were in Felecia's office. I had been visiting European cities for the last few weeks, and made Italy my last stop, to spend some time with my old friend. I was actually in Glenns house when the call came in from his superior. They wanted to avoid a long and bloody Mafia war, and so he was ordered to assist Felecia Abaco any way that he could. His superior officer knew of his "special" talents, and had recommended him for the job. Glenn spoke up for me and said that I also was skill in certain "talents". The only requirement was that the boy not be killed. Maimed, disfigured, raped...all that was fine. If the boy died, no doubt so would we. Glenn drilled that into my head. I understood. We found the boy for Felecia, and he sent his men in to grab the boy. We followed them in, nabbing a lad for ourselves in the process. The drive back from Salarno took all day, but that night, we had a little fun with 19 year old Antonio.
The next day, after a short meeting with Felecia, where only Italian was spoken so I was out of the loop, Glenn and I were lead to the boy's cell. He had been worked over by non-professionals. Well, normally they were good enough, professional enough, but the strong-willed, 15 year old boy knew that his entire families life depended on his silence. For at least another day or so. His family needed the time to pack and leave their current safe house. And, of course, the boy knew of his father's other three houses.
Glenn and I pushed a cart holding a TV and DVD player into the room where two cops were already working the boy over. They had been at it for hours. Glenn stood face to face with the boy, who was handcuffed to the wall, but still wore his own some clothes. His pants were ripped to shreds, and his underwear was intact, but he was shirtless.
Glenn reached out and stroked the boy's face, and the lad winced from the pain as Glenn touched the skin where it was ripped open and swelling. I walked over and smiled at the boy. I reached out and grabbed his "package" through his tight jeans. He winced, and looked back and forth between Glenn and I, not knowing what to think.
Glenn smirked and I said, "Less than 2". Glenn looked at me, faking shock and replied, "Oh, no! The boy is strong, and Italian! It will take 4 hours to break him."
The two cops glared at us, as we had interrupted them. They had been working for Felecia Abaco for years, and were well paid for their services. This time, though, they weren't producing results fast enough.
The boys face was swollen and red. His right eye was black and blue but now swollen shut. His right shoulder looked like it might be popped out of the joint, and his lower lip and chin was caked with dried blood. The teen's breath was coming in short little gasps. The pain being inflicted on him was intense, from the two obviously broken fingers, to the fist being repeatedly slammed into his nuts. However, he remained completely silent, save for the occasional scream.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Mr Double's Palisade A MrDouble Production:
Changes last made on: Wednesday, June 11, 2008