Date: Thu, 31 May 2001 03:18:27 EDT
From: Bwstories8@aol.com
Subject: Finding Love - chapter 11

Legal Notice:
The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts.
The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality.

Don't read this story if:
**You're not 18 or over,
**If it is illegal to read this type of material where you live,
**Or if you don't want to read about gay/bi people in love or having sex.

The author retains copyright to this story.  Placing this story on a
website or reproducing this story for distribution without the author's
permission is a violation of that copyright.  Legal action will be taken
against violators.

I wish to extend my thank you to Ed for his editorial assistance with this
chapter.

If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me at
http://www.teenboyauthors.org/thewolf, in the 'Other Stories' section.

E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other 'constructive'
comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com.

                  *    *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Finding Love - by BW                           Copyright 2000 by billwstories
Chapter 11 - The hounds that money can buy.    May 2000

We sat alone on the ground for a few hours, not daring to move around too
much for fear of making too much noise.  It had been several hours since
our friend left when the door to the root cellar opened again.  We saw his
legs come down the ladder; once again he was carrying two plates.  He
walked over toward us and shoved the plates under our noses.  They had the
same type food we had earlier and some beans.  He pointed toward the beans
and he said "frijol".  Frijol...I guess that means beans.  Then he pointed
at the other item and said "tortilla".  Tortilla?  Tad and I looked at each
other in surprise.  It didn't look like any tortilla I've ever had before.
He put his first two fingers and his thumb together, pointed it toward his
mouth, and said "comer".  I think that meant for us to eat.

He smiled and watched us consume our food for a short time before he said
"bueno" and then he turned around to leave.  He whispered "adios" as he
climbed the ladder and just before he closed the door to our hideout.  We
finished our meal and sat the plates over by the ladder.  We were totally
bored, but we knew that we didn't dare leave the safety of our sanctuary.
We decided that we should try to play one of our fantasy adventures to pass
the time.  Tad suggested that we should pretend to be Greek or Roman
brothers who were hiding out from slave traffickers who sought to make a
profit off our misery.  This wouldn't be all that different from our
current situation, except it would give us other things to talk about.  Now
we could discuss the Greek and Roman gods, the types of things that would
have happened during those times, and wars or battles that would have taken
place back then.  It seemed like a good diversion.

We kept our voices low and we temporarily got away from our current
situation.  It was actually quite an enjoyable diversion.  We spent our
time telling each other what it was like growing up during that period,
what it had been like serving as child slaves before we ran away, and what
we expected our lives would be like if we avoided capture or if we were
captured.  We came up with many interesting ideas and we became more
sensitive to what it would have been like living in a much simpler time,
with only a primitive technology.  Our being brothers during our adventures
led to much touching, hugging, and even kissing.  Any accomplishment or
minor victory would demand some sort of physical contact and we were more
than happy to play our roles.  It soon led us to the point where we knew
that we would need some sexual relief, so I made the first move.

I grabbed the bottle of wine and poured a little in my hand.  I used it to
rub around Tad's private parts, cleansing them a little before I tried to
take him in my mouth.  We were both so dirty from living naked and sleeping
on a dirt floor that I had to try to get it partially clean before we did
anything.  The alcohol would also kill any microscopic creatures that might
have taken up residence there.  I put more wine in my hand and I made sure
that I skinned back the foreskin to get to the glans and cleaned that as
well.  I did not know what might have accumulated beneath its protective
folds and I didn't really want to take any chances.  As soon as he was
washed off, I bent forward and took his stiffening cock in my mouth.  The
taste of the mixture of wine and left over dirt was strange, but I didn't
let it stop me.  It had been too long and we both needed this.  Skipping
the foreplay, I went straight down his shaft until I held it entirely in my
mouth.  As I lifted back up and then started back down, I let my lips drag
his foreskin back so his deep red helmet would be exposed.  I pulled back
up lightly, so the hood stayed rolled back, and I let my tongue dart around
and across the spongy, sensitive crown.  He stifled a yelp, knowing that it
might lead to our discovery, but I continued to tongue that responsive area
on every upward movement.  Sometimes I would have to stick my tongue into
the opening in the extra flesh, just so I could stimulate the tender
surface beneath.

Tad was really squirming now, enjoying my manipulations of his pride and
joy.  Now I was letting my lips run up and down the sides of his erection,
my tongue wandering along behind my lips, and I was sucking ravenously on
every up stroke.  The fingers of one of my hands were playing his ball bag,
rolling his marbles playfully around, and tactilely stimulating him even
more.  It was like having a candy cane at Christmas as I tongued and
slurped on his throbbing pole, and a sweeter candy I've never known.  I
continued to rise and fall on that marvelous piece of flesh until I could
hear Tad begin to pant and I readied myself to receive the creamy filling.
The first ribbon of cum spurted from his slit and slammed into the back of
my throat.  It slid down easily, just before the next volley coated my
tonsils.  Greedily, I continued to siphon his hose, taking each and every
blast as if it was the first, and I swallowed every drop that he had to
offer.  I didn't want to release it, even when it could offer no more of
his seed, but I finally let it drop from my mouth.  Then I moved up, kissed
Tad fully and deeply, and I hugged him tightly to my chest.

It took Tad several minutes to recuperate from the lingering effects of his
release, but soon he wanted to do the same thing for me.  He also used the
wine to cleanse my boyhood before he plied it with his mouth.  Once it was
free of the accumulation of filth, Tad took my boner willingly and with
great gentleness.  He let his tongue play with the surface of my rigid
shaft, playfully touching the exterior and teasing the tiny mouth at the
top with the tip of his oral muscle.  This attention was sending shockwaves
along my mast, jolts that rippled throughout the rest of my body.  Then he
added the attention of his hand to my testicles and the pleasure just
intensified.

After carrying on like that for several minutes, Tad let my meat slip
between his lips and he slowly lowered his head until his nose was in my
pubes.  My hard-on was enveloped in the warm, moist lining of his mouth,
with his tongue sliding around the one side of my rod.  I was lost in the
all-encompassing wonders of this temporary safe haven and the marvelous
feeling that surrounded my hard-on.  As he began to bob up and down on my
pole, adding a powerful suction as he continued, I could feel the tightness
building in my loins, signaling the early stages of my sexual fulfillment.
As the pressure continued to build in my scrotum and the bolts of
electricity started to increase in frequency and intensity, Tad worked
harder and harder to give me my needed release.  When I had reached that
point when I couldn't delay the inevitable any longer, I gave way to my
needs and let my penis explode, shooting bullets of my hot juices.  They
repeatedly filled Tad's hungry mouth, only to disappear down his digestive
tract until my gun fell silent, having run out of ammunition.

Tad made sure that he drained my wand completely, licked my tube clean, and
lovingly released it to fall along my thigh.  He moved in beside me, kissed
me all over my face, and he wrapped himself tightly around my body.  When I
came out of my sexual stupor, brought on by such an intense release, I
placed my arms around him as well.  We cuddled together on the old blanket
the Mexican had provided us and we fell asleep.  It was now long after the
last rays of sunlight had disappeared and we were soon in a state of
oblivion, that nightly journey to a place somewhere between life and death.
Another night had ended and we had spent one more day away from those we
loved.

We woke the next morning to the sounds of multiple vehicles, people
shouting in Spanish, and the echo of whistles from all directions.  We had
no idea what was going on in the village above and we were more than
frightened, thinking about what would happen to us if our whereabouts was
discovered.  We backed ourselves into the corner located on the same wall
as the ladder, but farthest from it.  We scrunched into the area where the
two walls met, threw the blanket over our heads, covered our bodies, and
clung to one another's trembling frame.

The sound of voices kept getting closer and closer, and our fear grew
proportionately.  Our hearts were beating furiously and we could hear the
sounds of the rhythm of our beating hearts, as the blood flow pulsed
through our ears.  Our breathing was rapid and shallow and, with the
blanket over our heads, the collection of carbon dioxide was probably the
only thing that kept us from hyperventilating.  Our skin was cool and
clammy to touch, as we both found out when we began to cling to each other,
and I thought that I was going to pee my pants, or worse, when I heard the
door of the root cellar thrown open.

We both held our breath, so the intruder wouldn't see any movement under
the blanket, and we hoped that our body tremors wouldn't be noticeable.
Through the blanket we could see that a light had been shone on the area
where we were and then we could hear the sounds of someone coming down the
ladder.  We heard the person kicking things as he moved around the cellar,
and we could make out the sound of his boots on the dirt floor as he moved
in our direction.  Suddenly the blanket was ripped away, revealing our
presence, and we found ourselves staring up into the face of an armed
soldier.

He grabbed a whistle out of his shirt pocket and he began to blow on it
vigorously.  Then he moved over to the ladder, climbed up until his head
was above the opening, he started shouting things in Spanish, and then he
began to blow his whistle.  Before long there were two other people in the
hole with us and several more standing around the entrance, looking down
into our current prison.  One of the men who came down was obviously an
officer and he spoke a recognizable form of English.

"You hide very good, cause much problems," he said to us.  "Come to me."

I think that he meant that he wanted us to follow him, because he turned
and climbed up the ladder.  The other two men pulled us up and pushed us
forward, indicating that they wanted us to follow their leader.
Reluctantly, we did as they bade and we climbed the ladder up into the
daylight.  When we reached the surface we were grabbed by two other
soldiers and we saw our host being held between another pair of military
men.  The officer came toward us and spoke.

"He help you, yes?" he said pointing at the figure of our former
benefactor.

"No," replied Tad bitterly.

"Where you get clothes and dishes?" he asked pointing at our pants and the
two plates being held by one of his subordinates.

"We stole them," I answered flatly.  "We sneaked up late at night or just
before dawn and we stole what we needed."

He eyed us like he didn't believe what we told him or maybe he didn't
understand what we said.  Then he moved over to our Mexican host.  I didn't
understand what he said to him, as they spoke in Spanish, but I think that
he was trying to trick him into confessing by saying that we told him that
he had aided us.  Our accomplice seemed to hold his own and he must have
insisted that he didn't realize that we were using his root cellar as a
hiding place.  I gather that he must have been convincing, because they
allowed him to leave and go back into his hut.

The officer barked out something to his troops and we were dragged out to
the street, led down the road, and soon we were approaching our former
place of captivity.  Another soldier ran ahead of us and into the small
building, and he was soon followed back out by Sovie and Diego.

"These are the missing man childs you look for, no?" the officer asked
Sovie.

"Yes, these are my stepsons," Sovie replied.

"No, we're not," I screamed.  "This man kidnapped us and forced us from our
homes.  We don't want to be with him and we ask that you contact the
American authorities to come and get us."  The officer looked puzzled.  I'm
not quite sure that he understood what I tried to tell him and he looked
toward Sovie for an explanation.

"El Capitan, I married their mother, but the boys do not like me.  They are
unhappy that I brought them down here for a visit.  They didn't want to
leave their friends for the summer."

"He only married my mother, not Tad's.  We aren't down here for a visit,
either.  He has stolen us and he plans to sell us to some rich Arab."

"I'm sorry, El Capitan.  The boy is an awful liar.  I thank you for your
assistance and I will take care of them from now on.  Here is a little
something for your time and effort."  Sovie slipped the captain a wad of
Mexican bills and the man put them into his pocket.  Next, he bellowed out
some orders and the soldiers began scurrying back to their vehicles.  Sovie
and Diego led us into our temporary jail and closed the door behind us.
Nothing more was said until we heard the sounds of the military vvehicles
starting up and then we could hear the sounds fade as they drove out of
sight.

"You little bastards have cost me a lot of valuable time and money," Sovie
spat out vehemently.  "Diego, hold the little pricks while I give them a
shot, and then you can go signal the driver that we're ready to leave.
We've got to get moving to keep up my appointment."

Diego grabbed the back of our necks tightly so he could squeeze them and
cause us a great deal of pain if we struggled, while Sovie dug a needle and
small bottle out of a leather kit.  He filled the hypodermic with the
contents from the bottle, rubbed some alcohol onto our arms with a cotton
swab, and jabbed the needle into our upper arms.  We were soon feeling
quite drowsy and neither of us remembered anything else until we came to in
the back of an old truck.  For a while, all we could see was the cloud of
dust that was kicked up by our passing, but later we could see other
vehicles following us or going in the opposite direction.

Sometime later we realized that we were getting closer to a populated area.
It wasn't much longer before our truck pulled to a stop, the engine was
turned off, and we were dragged from the truck.  We stood in front of what
appeared to be a motel and then we were rushed into one of the rooms by our
captors.  Diego and Sovie quickly gave us our instructions.

"The bathroom is there and you have fifteen minutes to wash yourselves or
each other.  I want you squeaky clean and looking human by the time you
come out, or one of us will take you back in and rewash you.  I don't think
either of you will want that to happen, so do it right the first time."

We were pushed into the tiny bathroom and we looked around quickly.  There
was much to see.  I walked over to the tub, turned on the shower, and we
took off our oversized pants.  We stepped under the trickle of water and
let it soak us thoroughly before we began to lather up.  I can't describe
how great that flow of warm clean water felt on our skin, skin that had not
been cleaned completely in many months.  As some of the surface dirt began
to rinse off and disappear down the drain, we took the soap and began to
wash each other tenderly, removing the more stubborn grunge that clung to
our flesh.  We soaped up and rinsed off several times before you could see
the pale color of our original complexions.  Now we focused on cleaning the
tangled rat's nest that some would call our hair.  We cleaned it as well as
we could but it was so tangled and matted that it would be impossible to
get it looking good without assistance.

Sovie was soon banging on the door, telling us that our time was nearly up.
I felt that he had given us longer than fifteen minutes, as he knew it
would take us quite a long time to rid our bodies of the accumulation of
filth that had built up.  I assumed that his time limit was merely a
motivational tool to get us to move along as quickly as we could.  We dried
off and exited into the common area, with the towels wrapped around our
waists.  We had thrown the white trousers in the trash, once we had taken
them off.

"Not bad," Sovie remarked, while looking us over.  "We'll have to do
something about that hair, however."  Sovie took Diego aside and whispered
something in his ear before Diego exited the door to the outside.  I was
trying to formulate another escape attempt when Diego reentered and ruined
the opportunity.

"Everything is set and we're ready to leave as soon as you are," Diego told
Sovie.

"Terrific.  Get these two loaded back into the truck and let's be on our
way."

We were placed back into the back of the truck and soon we were on our way
to somewhere new.  We had only traveled ten or fifteen minutes before we
arrived at our destination.  It was a small but modern airstrip, location
unknown to us.  We were dragged over to a small jet and I noticed that it
had my father's corporate logo on the fuselage.  He was using the company
jet to do this evil deed.  We were pushed up the small flight of stairs
leading to the cabin and forced inside.  We were directed to a pair of
adjoining seats, told to sit down, and we were quickly handcuffed and
strapped into place.

The jet sat in that same spot for a while; the pilot hadn't even started
the engines, and nothing was happening within the cabin.  Then Sovie
reentered the plane with a Mexican man behind us.  The Mexican carried a
small bag and he placed it on the seat across the aisle from us.  He pulled
out a large barber's bib, wrapped it around my neck, and he fastened it.
He took out a pair of scissors and a comb from the bag, and then he began
to cut my hair.  He cut it real short, probably to avoid all of the tangles
that snarled the bulk of my hair, but you could still tell the color of my
locks when he was finished.  He took a bottle out, sprinkled its contents
over my head, and then he rubbed it into my scalp.  When he was finished,
he moved over and did the same thing to Tad.  After he had completed
cutting Tad's hair, he swept up the clippings, packed up, and left the
plane.  Sovie handed him some money as he left the plane, and the door to
the jet was closed soon thereafter.

I looked over at Tad and I was impressed by how much better he looked, just
from that simple act.  He was once again the boy whom I had met, who
remembers how long ago, instead of the little savage that we had begun to
look like, the longer we were held in captivity.  I quickly scanned Tad's
naked body and I began to realize that he wasn't a boy any longer.  He was
growing, maturing, and changing in numerous ways.  Although we were both
skinny, you could see that his chest was filling out.  He was now taller
than when we had first been kidnapped and his feet were getting bigger, as
well as another part of his body that I was even more interested in.  You
could see hair sprouting on different parts of his body and you could see
the beginning of the faint outline of a moustache forming on his upper lip.
There was a fine down where his sideburns would be and there was a light
coating on his arms and legs.  There was the beginning of hair in his
armpits and the sprinkling of hair that had sprouted above his dick was
starting to form a cute little horseshoe.  I had almost missed noticing
these changes and I wondered if I looked the same to him.

I hadn't long to ponder this train of thought, as the jet's engines started
and the others sat down and buckled themselves into their seats.  Soon the
plane started moving and we taxied down the runway for takeoff.  We all
knew where we were heading.  I know that I was scared to death and I assume
that Tad felt the same way.  We were being flown to the Middle East, we
were going to be sold to some rich Arab, we were going to be used like sex
toys, and we would probably never see our families again.  My stomach was
in knots, my heart was racing, and my breathing was quick and ragged.  Why
doesn't the cavalry storm up, stop the plane, rescue us, and take us back
to our parents?  What happened to Dean and his offer to help?  Did Sovie
find out about that and stop him...or even worse, kill him?  Was he able to
tell anyone about us?  Does anyone know that we're still alive or have they
all given up on us?  Is there any hope for our future or must we resign
ourselves to a life of being a sexual plaything for a very rich man?

The jet sped down the runway, the nose began to lift, and soon we were in
the air.  I didn't want to look out the window as that would only depress
me further, knowing that we were leaving behind all chances of being
rescued.  I noticed that Tad wasn't looking either.  He would look down at
the floor, glance over at me, and then he would scan the interior of the
plane.  I don't know if he thought that the posse would storm out of the
cockpit to rescue us or not, but whatever he was looking for was not to
materialize.  I tried to talk to Tad during the flight, but we could find
nothing to talk about in front of the others.  No matter how hard we tried
or how much we wanted to, we could think of nothing to say that would make
us forget about our situation.  We finally settled back and tried to sleep.
This would have been one time we would have welcomed Sovie giving us a
tranquilizer and making us miss most of the flight.

We were not that fortunate, but we did manage to sleep through part of the
flight.  I'm not sure how many hours the flight lasted, but it seemed like
it went on forever.  When we began to think that we would run out of fuel
before we reached our destination, the pilot announced for the others to
return to their seats and to prepare for landing.  We could feel the jet
begin its descent, slowly dipping us below the clouds and toward the sandy
surface of this part of the world.  We continued to drop lower and lower
until we felt the impact of the wheels hitting the tarmac and the jet's
engines being thrown into reverse.  We taxied over to an isolated terminal,
as the pilot moved us into position to disembark, and we knew that there
was nothing left for us but to accept the inevitability of the fate that
was now ours.

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If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me at
http://members.tripod.de/wolfslair, in the 'Other Stories' section.
E-mails may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com.