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Thursday, March 1, 2012

Behind the Scenes: Thor Studios

Background

Location:

An empty warehouse, completely black. The floor should be worn cement, with pits, gouges and stains - sometimes with an industrial drain in the center but this will depend on the scene filmed.

General lighting above, to the sides and front will be bright and on dimmers. Additionally pin spots will be placed in the same locations to highlight the rubber and metal, particularly when polished. EVEN with all the lights on full, the center of the screen will be well lit but the background will always fade to complete darkness giving no sense of location, time or day. The viewer can not discern anything else in the space besides what is lit in the center of the scene. Lighting is critical. It needs to showcase the gear on bodies and when dimmed, provide mood, but one can never see what is just beyond sight to the back or to the sides – hence other figures or devices can appear from the dimness as they come into the center of the frame, making the subject in the center all the more vulnerable and objectified.

Equipment:

To be steel, metal, black wood, things should always be sexy and butch, a fuckbench can be padded in neoprene, a rolling trolley can have big industrial rubber wheels. Things are to be sleek and modern or industrial. Items can be fixed in place or wheeled in, but the sense that you don’t know where you are and what is lurking behind, is essential.

Sound:

Minimal speaking and no music. Sounds and noises should be limited to the locking of metal, the struggle in rubber bondage, bodies squeaking in tight rubber layers, the sounds of inflation devices, the hum of vibrators and of course the gagged moaning of Objects. Talking is to be completely minimal and limited as much as possible to simple verbal commands, like “yes” “no” and “suck” but since this is about objectification, the men in this series are to become objects and tools, so speech is really inconsequential.

Attire:

Full nudity is rare and only a precursor to gearing up. Since this is a fetish video, it is about layering, full Tom of Finland gear in rubber, and leather, wetsuits, drysuits and rubber uniforms. Faces are unimportant; characters - Top and Bottom - are to be hooded at all times. The Tops involved must be as dedicated to full rubber as the subs they objectify. This is about perverts and complex situations; Tops and Bottoms are whores for rubber gear; when they are geared up, they are complete pigs and dedicated to their scenes.

Safety:

I do not advocate unsafe sex. Point of note – for actual filming, cum can be replaced with cum lube, or melting vanilla ice cream; piss replaced with apple juice diluted with water to the appropriate color. Focusing on a cock squirting cum, then cutting away to it landing on the sub’s mouth can be the opportunity to switch to some other edible so that the play remains safe. Again, this is an ‘understood’ and generally these are just plot outlines at this stage so you will allow me my creative indulgence when I have a pig suck another dry. Should they actually be filmed, I leave it to the crew to practice safely and consensually.


OBJECTIFICATION Scenario 1: Rubber Cow

Screen is completely black.

Lights on dimmers come up fairly quickly revealing an empty U shaped metal frame. The frame is made of heavy 6” piping with plumber’s corners; it is 8’ square and bolted into the cement floor in a black space. Various clamps and steel rings are affixed to it along the bars to allow multiple attachment points.

Lights quickly fade back to black.

One can hear some muffled noises but it is abstract; about a minute goes by, not really any noise, just a little squeaky sort of rubbery sound.

Halogen pinspots (not the overall brights of before) on dimmers very slowly come up, the room itself is black and centered in the frame is a spread-eagled standing rubberman in full gear.

The lights come up slowly so that at first the viewer can't really see anything, then he notices a person's body in silhouette ... at least you think it's a silhouette until the lighting becomes brighter and you see it's a guy chained in a standing da Vinci's Man position in full rubber. Rubber restraints are visible on his wrists, the ankles of his boots, and on custom straps on mid thigh – these are attached via thick chains to the metal frame. The chains are boating chains, thick and coated completely in black vinyl so that they are shiny and pervy like the rest of the gear.

The gleam on the rubber suit is what finally becomes brighter as the lights come up. It is a well-fitted rubber catsuit with codpiece front, back zip. Worn with gloves tucked into the wrists and rubber riding boots and faceless inflatable hood with only a breathing tube – the black material is washed and spotless but not shined, it has that dull gleam that clean latex possesses and makes you want to touch it, smell it…

The camera begins to zoom in, slowly, until the codpiece fills the whole screen. then a anonymous gloved hand appears from the side and begins to squeeze and knead the codpiece - the sound of moaning can then be heard.

The hand recedes and reappears dripping with silicone lube and begins to polish and massage the codpiece until it is perfectly shiny and mouth watering in its glossy synthetic appeal.

Then the camera, still in close-up, follows the gloved hand as it polishes the entire suit, this is a considerable 10-15 minutes. The figure in the suit is very well-built, ideally with some heft like a seasoned athlete with the muscle maturity you get over time. Not a bodybuilder per se, but more than athletic, a definite gym rat. The lats should appear wide with a narrow waist, the butt round and tight, a 6-pack or 8-pack would be highly desired, but not necessary - but definitely a flat trim stomach and enough beef on the pectorals, biceps, triceps, deltoids and forearms that they bulge under the tight, tight suit. The quads should bulge also, beefy legs are important because this is all about the visuals and this Object is chosen for his body appeal.

The camera moves up and down the legs, the front and back, always in close-up like a lover. The gloved hand or hands should alternate between polishing, and groping, a finger tracing the line of a rounded calf, squeezing a globular ass cheek, massaging a beefy pec. The camera will move slowly and go in and out of super close-up and more general views of the whole back, the pair of legs spread, the black suit becoming hyper glossy black especially on rounded parts like the ass, the shoulder deltoid, etc. The camera pans up to the hooded head. The inflated ball of a hood is deflated and then slowly unzipped and slid off from the back so that the camera is focused on the face revealing an even tighter pinprick eye hood with nose holes and an open mouth with ball gag strapped over it. Spit is running out of the gagged mouth and the gimp makes a garbled attempt at a word. The spit lands on the chest and drips slowly downward.

The hood is polished to match the glossy suit, the moaning is constant, like a hum. The ball gag is removed and the fingers of the glove are offered to the mouth, running lube along the lips, the wet tongue flickering out to catch the fingers and suck them in like a hungry pig. Three gloved fingers are grouped and slid into the mouth like a flat wide cock and the gimp sucks noisily until they are pulled out. The hand grips the jaw-line and an off-camera synthesized voice simply asks “Is it ready?”

Close up of the gimp’s mouth saying haltingly in a quiet voice "Yyy- yes Sir!"

FLASHBACK
(The gimp - a handsome young man - is naked and sitting up in what appears to be some sort of dentist's recliner. His eyes are cornflower blue and an apprehensive look is on his face. The camera zooms in further and the viewer receives a thorough view of his muscular upper body and arms. His hair has been buzzed off and the scalp shaved; his head gleams in that way that only comes from a very close and professional job. The chair begins to recline, and the gimp ends up laying prone in the recliner. The viewer can tell that he is still frightened and tense.

The camera zooms in to frame the head and shoulders of the gimp. A body crosses in front of the viewer - temporarily blocking the view - and then returns to show a muscular rubberized form behind the young man. Only the upper body and arms - but not the face - of the dark form are visible. The form grasps the gimps head and pulls it back further.

"Relax." the voice commands. An unrubbered hand is seen, with a solid black contact lens balanced on a fingertip. Another hand is seen holding open one of the gimp's eyes while the original hand inserts the contact. The process is repeated with the other eye.

"What do you see?" the brusque voice asks.

"Nnn-nothing, sir. I c-can't see a thing." The camera moves overhead to show the young man's previous blue pupils replaced with the solid black contacts. The viewer sees the gimp's adam's apple move convulsively in reaction to his newly acquired blindness.

The camera maintains a tight crop of the gimp's face and upper shoulders.

"Excellent ..." the voice sounds content. The chair returns to its upright position and the viewer can see that lube is being poured onto the top of the now-blind gimp's head. A hand smooths the oily material down the back of the head, onto the sides and onto the face. A thin latex mask - with pindot eyes and an open mouth - is pulled onto the gimp's head. Thanks to the lube, the latex slides on easily and the hands behind the hooded gimp make final adjustments to the fit and positioning of the ears, nose and mouth. The ball gag is pushed into the mouth and fastened behind it's neck.

Finally, the body behind the gimp pulls a thin black latex glove over one hand and smooths it into place. The fit is so perfect that the nails can be seen indented through the material and there is no apparent seam between the glove and the cuff of the skin-tight catsuit. The process repeats and the viewer sees the completely rubberized Top clenching and unclenching his hands behind the hooded and blinded gimp.

The camera pulls back to show the entire scene. A featureless white room with the naked, hooded gimp in the chair and a powerfully muscular and completely rubberized Top behind him. As the Top comes around to the side of the chair, the viewer can see that he is wearing some type of webbed utility belt around a trim waist and well-polished paratrooper boots on his feet. Heavy white cotton socks peek above the top of the boots. The Rubbertop helps the blind gimp to its feet and snaps on a pair of handcuffs. He grabs the gimp by the cuffs and pulls him away.)

A funnel front hood from Studio Gum is slid over the gimp’s head. No eyeholes.

The camera angle pans overhead as we see a creamy protein shake poured into the funnel. It can either be from a blender, or can be from a package with a well-known sport brand on it. What needs to be understood by the viewer that this is some sort of muscle/protein beverage. The camera angle stays overhead as one watches the funnel full of liquid drain slowly with noisy gulping sounds. The hand pours the remainder of the liquid in, again filling the funnel up and the camera repeats, as the substance is noisily swallowed.

The camera pans again from overhead to face front as the hood is removed.

The gloved hand disappears and returns with an inflatable gag, which is stuffed in the mouth, and the breathing tube (approximately 6” long) sticks out. A pinspot highlights a steel table on which rests a pre-shined overmask. It is laying on it’s side highlighting the zipper and its locking mechanism. The hood is then lifted off the table by the gloved hand and is rotated to show it is eyeless, with only nose holes and an open mouth. A cut scene and the breathing tube is shown being threaded through the overmask and thicker overmask is then fitted over the hood. The camera angle pans around to the back of the head and neck and shows the mask being zipped closed and the locking mechanism being engaged. The gloved hand then tests the zipper to make sure it cannot be opened.

A small, chrome-plated padlock is secured attaching the hood zipper to the suit zipper. There is no removing this lock without the proper key.

A wide rubber posture collar is secured around the neck and padlocked in the back. This hood and collar are then polished up to a perfect gleam matching the suit. The figure appears as if made out of poured black oil. The moaning is a little louder and a bit more muffled and rubbery sounding mixed with the tube breathing noises.

The camera pulls back and the chest is massaged, two gloved hands massaging the pecs, fingering the nipples (which are slightly raised through the latex) and sliding down the torso. This should be filmed in such a way that the viewer is made impossibly horny, you should want to be the hands, grabbing all this captive rubber flesh. The camera work and focus need to be flawless, slow and playing up the texture and tactile appeal of the material.


A full rubber slave harness of straps and rings is secured over the suit except for the crotch area (for now), the camera zooming in and out. Camera pans down and settles between the legs, aimed at the butt. The back zippers are opened revealing the ass and the base of the buttplug already there. The gloved hand taps on the buttplug base and the gimp moans. The gloved hand grips the base and pulls - at first it barely moves and then it slides out, the asslips shiny and wet with lube and sweat as it plops free. They spasm open and closed from the sudden emptiness. A pause while the camera examines the plug. It is enormous, black and glistening; the gloved hand disappears and the plug reappears... or rather the same size and color in rubber but this one has electrodes built in (which becomes evident after it is inserted) the camera then zooms in on the ass.

An ass syringe squirts electro-conductive lube up the hole, it's cool in temp and the gimp makes a little moan, higher, quieter – and excess lube drips out of the hairless pink hole. The plug is then slid in, the wires secured and the ass zips closed..... the gloved hand presses on the zipper making sure the plug is firmly embedded. A small padlock appears and fastens the zipper pulls together.

The camera pulls back and aims upward until it is on the floor and the view is the backside of a shined up rubber gimp. The ceiling is black; there is nothing but blackness and extremely dim pinspots; almost like a nearly starless night. The rubbery shiny gimp appears to float in this darkness, its gleaming suit the only detail - hit from hidden pinspot lights in the environment. The camera travels through the spread-eagled legs and comes up the front side, zooming in on the crotch. The gloved hand massages it again, squeezing the fat codpiece, then undoing the snaps slowly, finally pulling back the codpiece and unsnapping the bottom snap so that it is completely liberated. Underneath one can see the gimp’s cock and shaved balls enclosed in a steel chastity cage (www.steelwerksextreme.com) was secured on the subject and the two gloved hands begin to work it free. The gimp is moaning considerably through this process and the end result is the cock begins to grow quickly as the gloved hands pull and massage the balls, tug on the sack and stroke the lengthening shaft - the gimp is moaning and breathing much harder now and twisting in its bondage.

Once the cock is erect, and the gloved hands inspect it. The penis is lubed up, again this time with electro-conductive gel applied straight from the bottle so the viewer can identify what the product is (and not just presume it’s lube) - an e-stim band is secured around the base of the shaft, another just behind the head of the cock and a (steel) mesh ball bag is secured around the balls. The connections are tested (the gimp twitches quickly and a muffled scream is heard) and the wires pulled away to the side.

A black latex sheath is then pulled over the chained gimp's cock and balls; the covering has a short tube at the tip and a wide, thin collar of latex behind the ballsac. The wires are then threaded through a small channel, coming to rest in a small "o" shaped hole hidden beneath the rubber sac; the latex skirt is tucked into the codpiece opening, providing an unbroken ebon expanse - the wires trail seamlessly out of the opening and straight down. The gloved hand slowly lubes up the sheath so it too glistens with an oily blackness.

A heavy gleaming split steel cockring is threaded thru the end of the descending rubber strap; both halves are fastened around the erect cock and enclosed balls and screwed shut. The rest of the slave harness is fitted with two straps; these are guided through the steel cockring and fastened shut; the straps travel through the crotch on either side of the cock and up the buttcheeks like a jockstrap secured to the harness in back (think of an “Y” shape), that make the cheeks bulge and appear even rounder. The gloved hand might grab them again and play with them.


The camera pulls back, way back. One sees the gimp is in the same position, although now in shiny, glossed up condition and with wires leading from it's crotch and ass off-screen. The wires should be extra long so you do not see them connected to the power boxes keeping the scene simple, pure and all about the visual of the rubber body in the center of the screen. Besides the metal frame to which the rubber toy is secured, the gimp is illuminated in a dark vast space, no light touches any walls, no sense of where it is being trained or time of day.

This also makes it impossible for the gimp to judge time while it is there.

When the camera goes to full view again, one item has been added. Upon closer inspection, a metal cable has appeared, running under the gimp near the ground and between gimp's legs into the darkness in the distance. The cord is a dull metallic color and taut. A noise of wheels and low grinding, like a motor can be heard. The cord appears to be moving into the distance.

A black form appears on the bottom of the screen in the center and becomes larger. It's a second rubber gimp, feet first, secured with thick straps in an inflatable sleep sack to a rolling low dolly. The steel cable pulls it and the second rubber covered figure proceeds, travelling under the standing gimp until just it's head is positioned beneath. Another steel cable runs from the head end of the trolley in front of the standing gimp, so the existing gimp is on a track that can be moved forward and back but only along a straight line under the standing gimp.

The motor stops, the noise ceases, and the viewer takes in the figure. A fully inflated bodybag/sleepsack is strapped down at numerous points with wide black belts to this narrow, flat platform on thick rubber wheels. The straps go from one side of the dolly to the other but have no buckles or apparent adjustments. They attach underneath the trolley, so on top they are just smooth and black and pure, creating bulges where they hold down the inflated sack – the captive almost appears as a shiny black rubber maggot. Facing the viewer, this floor gimp is wearing an eyeless inflated hood and round mouth, forced to stare sightlessly up at its rubber cohort.

The camera zooms back in and explores various angles; above, below, the view for the floor gimp staring up, the crotch view down at the gimp in the hood on the trolley, the inflated hood has a wide short tube fitted in to the mouth. The gloved hand reappears and a rubber black funnel is secured into this mouthpiece. On either side of the funnel are two rings, these are then affixed to rubber straps which are attached to the sides of the trolley. The floor gimp cannot possible tilt the funnel away or in any direction.

The camera moves up to the standing gimp’s rubbered crotch. A custom clear plastic ‘ball’ is produced, like the type used by pumpers to inflate to huge sizes. It is in two parts and is secured around the crotch with a cockring gasket (behind the steel cocking) and the two halves connected with small bolts forming a sphere around gimp’s groin. (A powered screwdriver – in black – whines as the bolts are screwed in place) The globe is very clear, allowing a fine view of the e-stim wrapped cock and balls inside.

The globe has a 1/2" round hole on the bottom area where a small piece of clear rubber tubing 1” long is protruding and aimed at the gimp below

The camera pans away and then off shot to a command console consisting of a series of e-stim boxes which fill the screen. One by one the gloved hand turns each one on, then adjusts the dials to different levels and pulses.

All the while one hears busy moaning noises and gasps and sudden "ARGHHH" sounds from off camera.

The camera returns to full view, the standing gimp over the inflated floor gimp. The moaning increases and the camera slowly zooms into the crotch. The hard cock can be seen jerking and throbbing in the clear bubble.

The camera pans up to the hooded face, no emotion can be seen but the breathing is faster and louder the camera pans back down to the crotch. After several minutes of this (with returns to the e-stim boxes being altered, dials turned up) the gimp screams in its gag and shoots multiple jets of creamy white jism onto the walls of the bubble which have been sprayed with a water-repellant coating to ensure liquids do not adhere.

The camera zooms closer to the bottom of the bubble as the cum slides down the curved walls and drips out the bottom tube, the camera angles down and the cum can be seen falling and landing in the black funnel below. Loud sucking gurgling noises can be heard as the camera follows the drops down and does a close up of the floor gimp who can be heard sucking in the protein diet. The camera pans upwards at the dripping ball, positioning itself underneath as we see all the cum has drained out then turns downwards and does a close-up of the funnel as we see the last few drops of jism slide down the greedy tube into the mouth. A satisfied “mmmm” sound emits from the floor gimp.

The camera backs away now, the scene is viewed in whole: the spent standing gimp, the fed floor gimp ...

The motor noise returns and the cable pulls the floor gimp into the distance..... the cable on the head end of the trolley is taut as well, it's on some sort of pulley system as the floor gimp recedes into the darkness.... then ... at the bottom of the screen before the first floor gimp is completely lost in the distance, a second floor gimp appears, almost identically bound and secured, only this one is wearing a Latex Finest underhood (with the buckles around the face) so the viewer knows it's not the first gimp, but a second trainee.

Again the cable stops the laid-out gimp after it has passed under the standing gimp, just positioning its head under the crotch again.

The camera again switches to a gloved hand manipulating the power boxes and dials of the e-stim systems. Gagged screaming increases. The screen returns to the full image of the two bound rubbermen, and the moaning of the standing gimp which can be seen to be visibly struggling in its standing bondage.

The lights slowly fade to black with the sounds of continued moaning.

* * *
“Lord, that was one hell of a plot outline!” Henry Steele let out a breath as he put down the sheaf of papers. The massively muscled British porn star had opened several buttons of the cut-off jeans to allow his considerable erection some needed relief. The head and shaft of his massive 10” tool stood rigid on the lower portion of his 8-pack abs and he idly rubbed the sensitive slit as more pre-cum leaked out onto his skin.

“I’m ready to shoot myself!” Diego Sandoval leaned back on the couch and casually slid a hand down his well-muscled chest. The president of Thor Studios continued the journey until he too was massaging his crotch. His dick had slithered down the leg of his pants, creating an unmistakeable impression of the large mushroom head of his cock.


“I feel it’s a bit too downmarket for Thor as a feature film, though ...” One of the studio’s most bankable stars, Steele had black tribal tats running down one massive arm; a complementary set swirled up the opposite leg and onto one cheek of the strongly muscled ass. Every breath brought the hairless body and tight abs into obscene definition and the sunburst tattooed around his navel only increased the pornographic quality of his appearance. His head was shaved and the scalp had been inked to resemble a geometrically cut hairstyle. A razor-cut beard framed full, kissable lips and accented the strong, square jawline. His slightly crooked nose - broken and not well set - lent him a dangerous and formidable air.

Bright blue eyes looked at the studio head. His sensuous lips curled into a smile. “With that said, however, I can definitely see this as a picture in a picture.”

Sandoval furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

"I can definitely see this as being part of a feature film. The descriptions portrayed would certainly get everyone hard and leaking – like us …” Steele peeled down the shorts to reveal his enormous cock and balls held captive by its thick steel prison and began to slowly stroke it. “… maybe rewritten a bit to be a closed-circuit torture scene or a left as is for a instructional video playing in one of the “Rubber Master” series. Hell, I wouldn’t mind being that standing gimp – under the right circumstances, I don’t mind giving up control for a little while … and these are definitely the right circumstances!”

Sandoval smiled. “Damn, Henry – great ideas! It’s a pleasure having such a sharp mind in such amazingly erotic packaging!”

 Steele grinned back. “It’s been a rather fortuitous situation for both of us, hasn’t it?”

Unbeknownst to all, Steele had formerly been the actor Henry Cavill, but had been simultaneously coerced (being framed for a murder) and persuaded (via a five million pound payment) to give up his identity and become the muscled and insatiable adult film celebrity he was now.

Henry leaned back on the couch and stretched out his arms. He widened his stance so his thick, heavy cock was pointing straight up. He gave the studio head a sly grin. “ ‘He came down from the North with a mind like Aristotle and a form like mortal sin … we shattered the commandments on the spot.’ …”

Sandoval licked his lips. “Goddamnit, Henry … you could read a fucking phone book and make guys cum … where was that quote from? Shakespeare?”

“Actually, ‘The Lion in Winter’ with Katherine Hepburn and Peter O’Toole…”

Henry paused and quirked his lips. “Diego … as long as I’m … at attention … so to speak, would you mind helping me put in a Prince’s Wand?” I know you wanted me wearing it in my next feature, but I want to get used to getting it in and wearing it about.”

The studio head’s eyes sparkled. “Of course, stud – glad to help!”

* * *

The half-naked porn star padded after the studio executive as they entered his washroom. The wand shone in his hand – it was bright steel with a heavy ball at one end and a tapered tip at the other. The fastening ring was a miniature replica of the thick, gleaming cockring surmounting his manhood. Sandoval whistled in appreciation.

“That is one nice piece of jewelry – SteelwerksExtreme, right?”

Henry nodded, a concerned frown creasing his chiseled face. “Took all the measurements… twice … but it still looks a bit large…”

Diego laughed. “It’ll fit – don’t worry. And once you get used to it, it’s going to be second nature to you – just like that cockring. And I'll bet you said the same thing about your first extra-large buttplug.”

Steele blushed.

The other man continued. “First thing -- you always do is wash the wand and your hands with antibacterial soap. Dry them with a paper towel.” Steele lathered his hands and then soaped the wand up between them. He then rinsed his hands and the wand and dried both off.

Sandoval motioned the porn star to the toilet. “Have a seat.”

“Lube is extremely important. You need surgical lube – not the regular stuff. And just like anything else, the more, the better.”

Sandoval handed Steele a bottle of VeryDeep. “Here – squirt this down the length of the wand.”

“Now … push it in.”

Henry took a deep breath as he placed the tip of the wand at his slit and pressed down. He hissed as the metal tube began to encounter some resistance, but he continued with gentle downward pressure. Thanks to the lube, the gleaming steel disappeared quickly into his rigid shaft. Soon, the heavy ring was touching the tip of his glans.

“Now, squeeze your head and pull it through the ring.”

The porn star’s fingers skidded off the rounded metal and he gave Sandoval a wry wrin. “Slippery little bugger…”

Diego gave him another paper towel. “Dry your hands off a bit, Henry …”

 Steele managed to pull his engorged head through the ring and the wand settled in place.

The porn star looked in amazement at his manhood. The gleaming steel sphere touched the tip of his cock and the heavy ring was a perfect complement to its larger companion encircling his lower shaft and balls.

“Bloody hell, this feels amazing …” He hefted his cock and stroked, feeling the steel shaft within it give him a painfully pleasurable feeling of fullness. “My cock’s never felt this good before!”

Sandoval smiled. “Never looked as good, either …” Diego kneeled down and placed his hands on the massive thighs. He moved closer to the steel-stuffed cock and gave it a slow lick.

“Oh Christ …” Henry’s head lolled back in ecstasy as the other man continued to lave his turgid horsecock. The inserted steel seemed to inflame every nerve ending to the breaking point; Henry felt as if he would black out from the waves of pleasure he was experiencing.

Steele felt his nuts churn and the beginnings of a massive eruption began to travel up his shaft. “Diego, I’m going to cum…”

“Mmmm…” Sandoval swallowed the massive tool and Henry screamed as his exploded down the other man’s throat. The wand slowed the silvery fluid and the orgasm Steele experienced was magnified tenfold.

As Sandoval was sucking him dry, Steele was panting. “Good Lord, that was amazing!” His cock – thanks to the inner rigidity of the wand – was still engorged and stiff. “Is it always like this?”

Sandoval nodded and smiled. “You’re going to be pretty much semi-erect all the time. And you can do anything with it in – piss, cum, whatever … it just takes a little more effort. I’d hold off fucking anyone until you’re more used to the wand, however. And the best part is, you can keep it in as long as you want – when you’re ready, remove it, unscrew the ball and give it a hot soak with soapy water. And you’ll be ready to go again.”

Diego got up and loosened his belt. He shucked off his pants to display a similarly engorged cock with an identical steel ball at its tip. The only difference was another large ball directly beneath his cockhead. His wand had been designed to accommodate his Prince Albert piercing.

Sandoval’s cock grew thick and rigid. He moved closer to the porn star so his meat was inches away from Steele's sensuous lips. "While you’re an excellent cocksucker, Henry, I don’t think you’ve ever done it with a wand … and … practice makes perfect, you know.”

Diego looked up and smiled. "Plus, we don't want to chip those lovely teeth on set, do we?"

* * *
As I've said before, I always try to stretch myself and the type of materials I write. This time, I wanted to explore a "screenplay" type of writing and combine it with some backstory scenarios of Thor Studios - one of Lucio's most successful legitimate businesses - a gay adult film company.

First and foremost, I want to give a shout-out to my good buddy Nick. Nick is one of the most intense, devilishly inventive and absolutely dedicated rubbermen you would ever encounter. He contributed a large chunk of the screenplay and I couldn't have done this without him. We can (and do) play off of each other's ideas and the collaboration is always pervier than either of us could consider alone.

The latter part of the story ties the story treatment to the adult film studio. We are again re-introduced to Henry Steele (the permanently disguised actor Henry Cavill from the "Janus" story) and the head of the studio perusing story ideas for new films. As Thor generally produces pictures that are not only pornographic, but have amazingly good stories as well, Henry is a bit concerned that this story doesn't have the wherewithal to stand alone. However, he does see the quality of the work and wants it incorporated into a larger production.

Which brings us to the Prince's Wand.

I've always been intrigued by this type of body jewelry and I finally broke down and got myself a penis plug with glans ring from Meo. The one I got is for "inexperienced users" (which I freely admit I am) and it was extremely easy to slide in. The feeling is incredible - the tip becomes highly sensitive and even with a small (2 inches) length, your cock is hard as a rock and stays that way. I plan to get an actual Princes Wand from SteelWerksExtreme (the Cadillac of steel genital jewelry). I would be getting the "pinless" version since I have no intention of piercing my cock.
YET.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Honor Among Thieves

“Miguel, I appreciate your taking initiative, but I want you to listen very carefully to me...”

Alejandro Sanz paced the room, the cell phone pressed to his ear and a scowl creasing his handsome face.

“If you shoot him in the head now, how the fuck is the son-of-a-bitch going to pay the money he owes us?”

The Venezuelan drug lord was a study in contrasts. He had inherited his father’s dark skin and hair and his mother’s aquiline features and steel-gray eyes. At first glance, Alejo looked more like a common street soldier – raven-black hair shaved off on the sides and back of his head with the remainder pulled into a ponytail; a sharply trimmed beard and moustache framed sensuous lips and terminated in a small braid. Looking into those penetrating eyes, however, dispelled any doubt that this was a power to be reckoned with. At 30, he had eliminated nearly all of his rivals and was the undisputed leader in the country. He was one of Lucio Giambi’s closest friends and de facto fist of the crime lord’s empire in the Southern hemisphere.

The darkly handsome criminal took a deep breath to control his temper. “Okay, this is what I want you to do. First – you make him disappear. His family and friends become crazy. They won’t know what has happened to him. Second – you make a ransom demand…”

A pause. Alejo counted to ten and clenched his fist before continuing. Of course, he’s dead by now! Are you going to put a notice in the papers right next to the wedding announcements? Third – after you get the money and after you launder it – you dump the body … on the steps of la estacion de la policia, on a park bench, in the train station. Entiendes? Good. Call me when you have him.”

He closed the phone and tossed it onto his desk. “Fucking pendejo…” he muttered and poured himself a glass of fresh juice. He closed his eyes and put the cool glass against his forehead. Why do I have so many idiots working for me?

A quiet knock on the door and James Treaty entered. “Is this a good time, Mr. Sanz? I can come back later…?” Lucio's man spoke flawless Spanish.

Alejo smiled at the young enforcer and motioned him into his office. He drank in the sight of the blonde-haired American in the pale gray henley that was stretched across his muscled chest and powerful, inked arms; his gaze wandered down to the tight faded jeans that left nothing to the imagination tucked into gleaming black riding boots. A black leather shoulder holster served to frame and highlight the span of his shoulders even further and Sanz felt his tool twitch and begin to snake down the leg of his trousers. Dios, how I want him in my arms.

He poured another glass of juice and handed it to the other man.

“Thank you, sir.” Their fingers lingered together on the glass a bit longer than necessary.

After several shipments of cocaine had been interdicted by the police, Alejandro Sanz had asked Giambi for some assistance in improving his operations. Treaty had been sent down to assist the Venezuelan in revamping the druglord’s processes.

James had been uncompromisingly thorough in his review and took steps quickly to tighten security in Sanz’ operations; his capabilities were frighteningly formidable. As were his insights. Of course, there was the some resentment among Alejandro's soldiers at the American’s apparent arrogance – but those feelings were quickly replaced by amazement and then grudging respect as noticeable improvements occurred overnight.

* * *

One incident cemented Treaty’s stature among the Venezuelan soldieri. During a raid on Sanz’ last rival, the American had killed several of Rosario Abecassis’ men in quick succession with single shots to their hearts. Another man had received a gut shot during the melee and was moaning in pain; he had slid down against a wall leaving a bloody trail behind him and trying unsuccessfully to prevent the loops of his intestines from spilling onto the floor. James had knelt down to speak quietly to him. The mortally injured man gave James a sad look and nodded. The American quickly snapped his neck and laid him at rest. He got up and slammed Roberto Morales against the wall – eyes blazing with wrath.

“These men were doing nothing but following orders, Roberto! They deserved a clean death! You like hurting people for fun, don’t you?”

The thug spat on the body and smirked. “He was nothing but a pig, Mr. Treaty … he don’t deserve anything better…”

Two quick punches to the chest and Roberto’s legs collapsed beneath him. He wore a surprised look as his heart burst and his eyes glazed over in death. Treaty turned to the spectrally quiet men behind him.

“In this organization, gentlemen – we kill when only when we absolutely need to and when that situation arises – we do it quickly and with honor. Does. Everyone. Understand? ¿Quedó claro? Angry green eyes swept across the assembled group.

"Sí, jefe …”
“Yes, Señor Treaty …”
“Yes, sir…”
“Sí, señor…”
“Sí, por supuesto, jefe …”

Other men were too stunned to speak and only nodded their agreement. Treaty turned the body over with a booted foot. “Pick him up and let’s go.”

* * *

Treaty leaned against the desk, his massive package straining the fabric of the jeans and framed by his powerful thighs. He sipped the juice. “There’s no way for those shipments to have been intercepted without some internal leak, Alejo. You’ve got a mole.”

Sanz pinched the bridge of his nose. “Goddamnit … I was afraid of that.” The slight accent of his English took on a harder edge. “Do you know who it may be?”

“I have a hunch. But I need to gather some more information first. You did say all the shipments were confiscated by the same group of policeman?”

“Sí … the Policía Municipal squad led by Captain Enrique Albarracin. Why do you ask?”

Treaty’s eyes grew hard. “I think I’ll have to go to the source and get my suspicions confirmed.” He gave the other man a grim smile and Sanz felt the temperature in the room drop by several degrees. With a start, Sanz realized that Treaty - like himself - was one of the elite in the Giambi organization that had received Full Training and all of the ramifications that that entailed.

The Venezuelan took a chance. He reached up a tentative hand and a knuckle gently stroked the side of Treaty’s face, moving down and following the hard line of his jaw. “Be careful, James. Albarracin’s men are savages.”

Green eyes met gray; the enforcer took the drug lord’s hand in his own and kissed it.

“Don’t worry, Alejo. I will be. Giaan and Lucio sent me to take of the problem and I will.”

* * *
Guns drawn, detectives Marco Accier and Alberto Crespo moved stealthily up the staircase.

“Are you sure this was the right address, Marco? I have a really bad feeling about this…” Crespo had light brown hair and a gymnast’s tightly muscled build. His light brown eyes looked worried.

Accier nodded and returned the whisper. “One of the largest cocaine deals is supposed to be going on in apartment 302. We need to catch Sanz’ men in the middle of the act. C’mon…”

As Marco moved to the next step, his shoe ground into something that made a slight crunching noise. Suddenly, a small, round item flew downwards and bounced towards the two policeman.

Alberto’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Grenade! Run, Marco, run!”

With a roar, the flash-bang grenade went off.

* * *

With a start, Crespo awoke to the acrid smell of ammonia; he felt the material of the black hood compress around him as he took in a breath and began to thrash about in panic. In a moment, it was pulled off and he blearily looked around the sterile white room. Like himself, Marco had his hands cuffed behind his back and was secured to a heavy wooden chair; their clothes were torn and scorched from the grenade blast. Two handsome and well-muscled men leaned casually against a table on the side of the room, and in front of the captive policemen, a large metal tub was filled with water and ice, condensation beading its outer surface.

The darker of the two men spoke. “Gentlemen, thank you for coming on such short notice. You and your captain have been causing me some considerable annoyance lately, but I do admire and respect your determination and ingenuity. Of course, I know that you’ve been getting a little help … and I've asked you here to find out who has been leaking that information.”

Recognition and fear dawned in Accier’s face. “Sanz?”

The drug lord gave them a grin. “At your service. Or rather, you at mine.” He sauntered over to the captives and pulled up a chair to sit astride it in front of them.

“Out of all the officers under Albarracin, I believe you two are the only ones possessing at least a modicum of honor. That is why I am making you this offer: if you answer my questions, I swear on the Virgin that I will end your lives quickly and cleanly with a single bullet to the back of your head and I will provide for your families.”

His face hardened. “If you force me to interrogate you, you will be begging me to kill you before we are done.”

A pause. “Well? What is it going to be?”

Accier spit in his face. Alejandro wiped the spittle away and got up. “So be it.”

He motioned to Treaty. “James – let us begin. Start with the smaller one.”

* * *

Black spots swam in front of Crespo’s eyes as his head was pulled out of the water. Gasping for breath and choking, the room spun around him. Again. The other gangster – James – had donned a heavy pair of thick, rubber gloves and had proceeded to hold the lieutenant’s head under the freezing liquid.

Alejandro’s voice was implacable. “Crespo, who has been giving you the information?”

James whispered in the lieutenant’s ear. “At this temperature, you lungs are going to burst…” he tightened the grip on the wet hair and the smaller policeman hissed in pain. “… tell us who it was, Alberto … please ...”

Choking, the bedraggled man nodded. “O-okay…” Treaty held him up as the man was ready to collapse.

Coughing, he turned to Sanz. “It was your mother …”

James pushed him back into the chair. Alejandro picked up an automatic with a silencer attached and shot off a kneecap.

Alberto screamed in pain as the pulpy mass oozed blood onto his ripped pants. Alejo pressed a button and two more soldieri entered the room. He nodded to the sobbing policeman. “Take him into the other room and cut out his tongue. I’ll decide what else I want to do to him next.”

James turned to Marco and stroked his chin. Accier could tell that a number of possibilities were sifting through the blonde man’s mind – and none of them good.

“Last chance, lieutenant … you want to end up a crippled mute like your partner?” Accier pressed his lips together and glared at the enforcer.

James grabbed the other man’s chin and tilted Marco’s head up so their eyes met. “Or perhaps you’d like spend the rest of your life as a blind man?” Treaty saw horror bloom in the other man’s eyes.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do anything to ruin such beautiful eyes as yours …” James continued conversationally. “We’re in a quite special wing of a hospital right now. A very quick and painless operation and …” he snapped his fingers. “… your world will be forever dark. What do you have to say to that?”

Accier unleashed a string of profanity so intense that Treaty’s face hardened into a mask. He strode over to the table and poured some liquid into a small towel. He quickly pushed the moist fabric over Marco’s face. “Sweet dreams, lieutenant…” as the chloroform spiraled him into unconsciousness.

* * *

Marco woke to a blackness so intense it terrified him. He could feel he was sitting in a hospital bed and his hands were cuffed to the rails on each side. To his left, he heard a chair creak and scrape against the floor. A voice near his head startled him.

“Hello again, lieutenant. How are we feeling?” It was James. He jerked away as a hand brushed against his forehead to move away a stray lock of hair. The same hand trailed delicate fingers across his eyelids; he could feel the slightly callused tips as they passed.

“I just wanted to show you that nothing is covering your eyes.”

“You’re just fucking with my head! The room is blacked out!” The policeman shouted.

Treaty continued unperturbed. “I think this will prove to you that we’re not a dark room…” Accier heard the snap and hiss of a match being struck and smelled the sulfurous whiff of the ignition. He pulled away as he felt the heat of the match near his nose, but despite the heat he saw nothing.

Nothing but unbroken darkness.

“You … you sonofabitch…” the policeman began to weep.

“I warned you, Lieutenant. You had every chance to reveal who your source was and you refused. In a way, I admired your defiance, but at some point defiance devolves into stupidity.”

Hot tears poured down Accier’s face.

The policeman felt a finger trail softly along his wrist. James continued softly. “My final offer, Marco. Either you give me name of the informant or I’ll amputate your hands. You won’t even be able to put dark glasses over those beautiful eyes with stumps.”

Wracking sobs shook his body as Accier snapped. “No! NO! It was Eduardo Salcedo!! Please, please don’t cut off my hands!”

He heard a door open and a set of heavy footfalls cross the room. Treaty grasped his hand and squeezed. “I won’t, Marco. I’m a man of my word.”

He addressed the other person who just entered. “Take care of him.

Accier screamed as the first whiff of chloroform hit the back of his throat again.

* * *
Eduardo Salcedo relaxed under the warm jets of the shower and idly rubbed the sudsy soap over his smooth, hard body. Today had been particularly brutal, with Alejo sending him on multiple errands from one end of Maracaibo to another. The drug lord’s second-in-command hefted his substantial package and wondered what hot young stud he would pick up and plow from one of Alejo’s clubs later on in the evening.

He slid open the frosted glass door to grab a towel and jumped back in shock.

Madre de Dios! Señor Treaty, what are you doing here?”

James was leaning against the sink, a lopsided smile on his face and the fluffy bath towel in his hand. Snug jeans rode low on narrow hips with a hint of his Armani trunks peeking just above the waistband; his powerful upper body gleamed from the steam of the shower and his tattoos provided an erotic addition to the already obscene tableau. Eduardo felt himself begin to thicken and twitch.

“I’ve been wanting to see you naked since the day I got here …” He sauntered over to the other man and trailed a finger down the crevasse between the rock-hard pecs. Using the towel, he pulled the wet man into him and began to nuzzle his neck.

The towel dropped to the floor and slightly callused hands slid down Eduardo’s back to cup hard cheeks. “And I’ve wanted nothing more than to hear your scream as I plow that tight, muscular ass of yours.”

Salcedo breathed in the musky scent emanating from James's skin. His initial fear dissipated. Plans be damned - tonight he wasn't going to let anything destroy this chance to feel the blonde enforcer inside him.

Lifting his hand, he threaded his fingers through Treaty's hair and tugged the enforcer's mouth to his. James allowed him control of the kiss, encircling Eduardo’s waist and crushing him to his body. Salcedo swept his tongue inside, stroking the other man’s teeth and eliciting a moan from the blonde gangster. He slid his free hand down to cup Treaty’s jean-covered cock and squeezed. Hard.

James jerked away. "Fuck … we need to get in the bedroom ... right now. I want you bent over and taking me as deep as you can."

"Please," Eduardo begged, unashamed of the need that made his voice tremble and his knees weak. Somehow, the man had cast a spell on him; an enchantment he was unable to resist.

Turning him around, James slapped his ass and nodded toward the bedroom.

By the time he got to the bed, Eduardo’s hands were shaking. He bent over to lay the large, fluffy towel over the coverlet. Before he could straighten, however, the enforcer’s cool hand landed on the small of his back. Goose bumps and shivers traveled over his skin as James stroked the muscular globes of his ass.

"Brace your hands on the bed," James ordered, "and spread your legs more."

Doing as commanded, Eduardo blushed at how wanton he must look as his hips tilted and his ass pushed out to encourage Treaty’s touch.

"Señor, I want..."

A hard slap to his ass made him gasp and jump. Glancing over his shoulder at James, Eduardo met the enforcer's gaze.

"What was that for?"

"No reason. I just wanted to see how you'd react to it."

James's wicked grin caused Eduardo’s cock to swell. "Where's the lube?"

He closed his eyes because the sight of James's naked body drove the ability to think out of his mind.

"Ummm...in the night table drawer, I think."

Another slap to the other cheek and James reached over Salcedo's back to search in the drawer closest to them. Eduardo couldn't help rocking back and rubbing his ass against James's massive erection.

"So eager ... ahh, that's one thing I love about you, tesorito.”

Treaty murmured in Eduardo’s ear before moving away and holding up the lube. "Got it."

Eduardo whimpered at the loss of the enforcer’s weight and touch.

"James, I …"

"I know. Don't worry. I won't let you wait for long."

James trailed long fingers over Salcedo’s spine to tease the top of his crease before dipping down to rub over his hole. Dropping his head forward, Eduardo arched his back and twisted his hands in the towel. The pop of the bottle warned him before cold liquid dropped onto his skin.

"Ohhh." His voice was little more than a groan.

Treaty chuckled, but stayed silent. Eduardo closed his eyes, absorbing every touch and letting them absorb into his consciousness.

The blonde man pressed the tip of one finger inside Eduardo's ass, pushing the lube in. The latino relaxed and the invading digit sank farther into his channel. Tightening his muscles, he tried to keep James there, but the enforcer eased out his finger.

"James," Eduardo protested his emptiness.

"Quiet." James commanded as he kissed between the latino’s shoulders.

Two more slick fingers thrust in, this time with a little more force. Eduardo hissed and rocked through the burn, allowing the slight pain to fade. Treaty never stopped touching Salcedo’s back, sides, and cock. James wrapped Eduardo’s prick in his fist, pumping in rhythm with the pace of his fingers opening the man beneath him.

One of James's knuckles hit the latino’s gland and he cried out as electricity shot through him.

"Oh, fuck!" He panted.

A deep chuckle, almost a growl. "We're getting to that."

"Más. Más!!"

"Soon, handsome, soon … you'll get all you need and deserve."

The two fingers disappeared, only to be replaced by three and James fucked him hard and fast with them, hitting just the right spot with each shove in. Eduardo bucked and rocked, taking everything Treaty gave him and pleading with the blonde man for more.

James's hand gripped the latino’s cock tightly and with each upstroke, he twisted his palm over the head, drawing cries from Eduardo until his throat was hoarse.

Leaning over, Treaty growled in Salcedo’s ear. "I want you to cum now, guapo. Don't hold back and after you've come all over my hand, I'll ride your ass until you cum again."

A sharp bite to Eduardo's shoulder, along with the thought of the enforcer’s massive cock in his ass, drove him over the edge. His cum spilled from him, covering James's hand and the towel underneath him. He jerked and moaned, allowing the fair-haired man to demand every drop from him. His tremors hadn't faded yet when Treaty yanked his fingers out of Eduardo and shoved his cock in as deep as he could go. The hair at the base of James's shaft brushed latino's butt cheeks.

Eduardo clamped down on James, massaging the blonde man’s cock with his inner passage.

"Please, James, make me feel you for days."

James gripped the latino's narrow hips and took control. Eduardo allowed his partner to move his body the way he needed. Each thrust slammed into Salcedo hard enough to steal his breath. Treaty held his hips at just the right angle to hit the other's gland with each stroke.

His second climax built on the first and his head spun. He'd never had two climaxes so close together before, but the enforcer wasn't showing any mercy.

"Soon, handsome," James warned him.

Screaming, he clung to the sheets while his second eruption overwhelmed him. His passage took James's cock in a vise-like grip and threw the larger man into his own orgasm.

Hot liquid filled Eduardo as James shot his seed into him. His arms gave out before Treaty finished exploding. He fell face first onto the bed, not even flinching at the wet, sticky mess he landed in.


James licked Salcedo’s neck and eased away from him. They moaned as James's softened cock left the latino’s body. The enforcer patted Eduardo’s butt and walked over to the bathroom. Salcedo couldn't find the strength to pull himself up to lie properly on the bed. Maybe he'd just slide off the side and sleep on the floor. The thought had definite appeal.

Eduardo flinched when a warm damp cloth swiped over his ass. Shooting a glance over his shoulder, he watched as James cleaned him off.

When the enforcer finished with Eduardo's back, he helped him stand.

Barely awake, he leaned against the bedpost.

"I think you melted me or something," he joked as James eased him onto the coverlet and gave him a gentle kiss. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Dios, I’ve never had my brains fucked out of me before.

“I’m sure these little adventures don’t go into the DEA reports, do they, Agent Ramirez?”

Eduardo’s eyes flew open to see a naked Treaty with a hard expression on his face and a heavy blued-steel gun replete with silencer in his hand.

* * *

The enforcer’s face grew troubled. “What the hell am I going to do with you, Eduardo? I can’t let you stay here and fuck up Alejo’s operations and I don’t want to blow your cover either. You’re a damn fine agent – it took me a good deal of hard work to have the police spill their guts about you.”

Treaty smiled. “Besides, I like you and you’re an absolutely amazing fuck.”

His face hardened again. He threw the agent two sets of cuffs. “Put them on. Ankles and wrists. Wrists behind your back. Now.”

Once the agent was secured, James produced a small hypodermic and jabbed it into the captive’s neck.

Ramirez felt a short, sharp sting and watched as his world retreated down into a black tunnel.

* * *

Once he was sure the captive was unconscious, Giaan’s protégé gathered his clothes and dressed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and dialed a long distance number. In a moment, Giambi’s intelligence chief was on the line.

“Hey boss, all done here. Good news is the leak’s been plugged. The bad news is that it wasn’t a rival gang – it was a DEA agent.”

Giaan cursed fluently in Hindi. “Damn … what did you do to him?” James could hear the slightly hard edge in his superior’s voice. The Giambi organization had strict rules on harming any type of law enforcement official. Disobedience was an automatic death sentence.

“Well, after I plowed his ass, I cuffed him and knocked him out. I really don’t want to blow his cover, boss … I’ve got an idea, but I’m going to need a little help to get it done…”

* * * 

Awareness returned slowly to Marco – the first thing that registered was the smell of brewed coffee and fresh pastry. He levered himself off the bed, opened his eyes and peered blearily around the richly appointed room.

It struck him like a thunderbolt. “I’m not blind! I can see!”

“Of course you can. And they didn’t cripple me or rip my tongue out, either. We’ve been fooled.”

Accier turned to see Crespo standing by the large window, dressed in a pair of snug grey briefs and a cowled sleeveless robe hanging open to display his slabbed pecs and six-pack abs. Marco was in a pair of pajama bottoms; the room was cool and his nips were hard and tight on his own chiseled physique. Off to the side, a large table was heaped with breakfast. Alberto sipped a mug of coffee, a sour look on his face.

“They told me you broke.”

Accier looked away. “I … I’m sorry, Alberto. After they took you away, that big blonde enforcer threatened to blind me. I woke up – couldn’t see a damn thing – he even lit a match right in front of my face. Then he threatened to cut off my hands if I didn’t give up Salcedo.”

Crespo’s face softened. Dios, that must have been terrifying. Sanz certainly knows how to press the right buttons. But that doesn’t alter the fact that Albarracin is going to have our balls for this.”

A gentle knock on the door and Sanz, along with what was presumably a bodyguard, entered. The handsome young man accompanying the drug kingpin wore a red string tank-top over his smooth muscular figure and a pair of black workout pants.

“Good morning, officers.” He walked towards the table and lifted the carafe to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Crespo rushed towards the crime lord, but suddenly found himself lying flat of the carpet, the wind knocked out of him. The bodyguard stretched out a hand to the prone policeman and pulled him back to his feet. To his chagrin, Alberto found the bodyguard was inhumanly strong. And damnably handsome as well. The young man gave the policeman a warm smile as he saw the considerable bulge in the gray briefs . “Please don’t do that again, señor. There is no need. You are among friends here.”

Shit, he's so damned fast I didn’t even see him move.


Sanz never missed a beat. He sat down, crossed his legs and sipped his coffee.

“I want to offer my apologies to you both. I know what was done to you was … unsettling … but I did need to find out who the traitor was in my organization. James was certain that he could get that information without any permanent damage and I’m glad to see he was right. It would have been inexcusable to actually cause you any real physical harm.”

He gestured to the two officers. “Please, sit. Enjoy your breakfast. You are my guests.”

“More like your prisoners.” Accier muttered as he crossed over and filled a plate with eggs, cheese and sausage.

Sanz chuckled. “No, you are free to leave in a few hours. I just need to make sure you don’t interfere in any of my immediate plans. And this is the most pleasant way to address that. I see no reason to treat you otherwise.”

Alejandro continued. “James felt that the two of you were honorable men … honest, compassionate, yet with enough steel to make hard decisions – a very rare combination for officers who work for Enrique Albarracin. Then again, you are quite new to his command, so his behavior has yet to corrupt you. Among his other talents, James is an excellent judge of character – and I trust him implicitly.”

Accier opened his mouth to speak, but Alejo put up a hand. “Please, Marco - let me finish. Captain Albarracin is a criminal in every sense of the word. His men kill without compunction, steal, rape and commit every atrocity imaginable. What do you think he did with the cocaine that you took from me? Do you actually believe it is still in the evidence locker?”

Crespo was silent as he took a croissant from the basket and munched into it. There had been certain furtive looks and conversations between the more senior of the captain’s officers that abruptly stopped when he or Marco entered a room.

Alejo sensed their growing discomfiture. “I only ask you this: prove what I have told you is a lie. I think you will find that your commanding officer is nothing more than a sociopathic thug … and somehow, I do not think either of you could bear to work for such a man once you know the truth about him.”

He paused, giving them a small grin. “On the other hand, I would be honored if you would consider working for my organization. I have only three rules – work hard, never lie to me, and use the talents God has given you to protect those who depend on you.”

He gave the two officers a knowing smile as his eyes lingered over their half-naked forms. “I also believe that you possess other … talents ... which I hold in high esteem. I know you two are partners - in every sense of the word.”

Marco and Alberto gave each other panicked looks; Crespo blushed scarlet at the drug lord’s astute observation.

Alejandro laughed. It was a deep chuckle – more like the purr of a very large and very amorous cat. “No need to worry – your secret is safe with me.” He stood and put the cup down on the tablet.

He looked at his Rolex. “I must go. Nestor …” He nodded to the bodyguard. “will see to anything you need. I took the liberty of purchasing new clothes for you since the ones you were wearing were quite scorched from the grenade blast. There is also a new pair of contact lenses for you in the bathroom, Lieutenant Accier.”

He stood and knocked on the door. He turned to the officers as he left. “I hope to see you soon, gentlemen. For the moment, then - goodbye...” The two gangsters left and the door clicked shut.

Crespo grinned at his partner. “Well that was a surprise!” He gently took hold of Accier and gently rubbed the tight obliques with his thumbs. Marco responded by wrapping his arms around the other man and pulling him in for a soft kiss.

“You know, since we’re stuck here for a few hours, I’d hate to let that bed go to waste … it looks so soft.”

The dark-haired lieutenant pulled them both down onto the soft sheets. “Well, it certainly beats the hell out of the third-floor broom closet, doesn’t it?”

* * *

Peter Gardner entered his office and dropped into his chair. The debriefing on the sudden spate of art thefts had his mind reeling. Whomever was responsible, the FBI station chief thought, was good. Damn good. Scary good. It was going to take a lot of hard work and some incredibly lucky breaks to crack the case. All of a sudden, the opening notes to Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony trilled on his cell phone. A tired grin crossed his face as he flipped it open.

“Hey Lucio, what’s up? How’s my favorite global crime lord?”

A smooth laugh from the other side of the connection. “You sound exhausted, Peter. Difficult case?”

He loosened his tie. “Yeah. Damn art thefts have everyone scratching their heads … what can I do for you?”

Giambi paused. “I’d rather speak to you about it out of the office. Will you be home tonight?”

“Sure.”

“Good. I’ll call you at 9pm sharp. Thanks, Peter. Talk to you then.”

* * *

Lucio Giambi hung up the phone and looked at it thoughtfully. He opened up his email program and quickly began typing:

Hey Alec,

Keep up the good work, but I think it’s time you took a trip to Europe …

Lucio

* * *

Eduardo Salcedo was jarred back to consciousness after a violent, backhanded slap to his face. He woke to find himself bound tightly to a folding chair and looking into the furious face of Alejandro Sanz.

"Maleton! I trusted you with everything! And what do you do? You fucking betray me to the Rasquin cartel! Bastard!”

The drug lord slapped him again.

Cartel? Treaty didn't tell him I was DEA?

Salcedo was still recovering from the effects of whatever James had given him, but was alert enough to see he was near the edge of a cliff. The sun was at its zenith and the roar of water was close by.

Suddenly, a gun was in Alejo’s hand. “I should blow your fucking head apart!” He was quivering with rage.

“Alejo, no … that’s too quick and too painless for him. He deserves something for his betrayal far more lingering, agonizing ... and terrifying.”

Eduardo turned his head to see Treaty get up from a crouch and approach him. The blonde was wearing a tight black tank over blue jeans and his face was rigid mask of steely determination. He was barefoot.

As James crossed in front of the captive he pitched his voice so only Salcedo could hear. “Keep quiet. You’ll be safe soon.”

Treaty approached the drug lord and gently took the gun out of his hand, tucking it into the back of his jeans. He turned to the DEA agent.

“In case you don’t recognize it, Eduardo, we’re at Angel Falls. There’s over a 2,600 foot plunge to the bottom at this point … and I can’t think of anything better than listening to you scream all the way down...”

He walked slowly towards the captive man and Eduardo felt fear encircle his heart and begin to squeeze it in a viselike grip. James continued.

“Just imagine the pain as your bones break on the way down, crashing and bouncing into the rocks and finally, if you’re still alive and conscious, plummeting into the ice-cold water below and feeling your lungs fill up with water…”

James put a bare foot onto Salcedo’s chest and applied pressure. The front legs of the chair left the ground, and Eduardo felt his already shaky balance deteriorate further. He looked over his shoulder to the roaring spume of water below him. The chair continued to tip further back.

“See you in hell, Eduardo …” as Treaty's final push launched him backwards over the cliff. His screams were soon cut short by the roar of the falls.

* * *

Fifty feet below the edge, a wormhole bloomed into existence and received the screaming man into its event horizon. One of ODIN’s microprobes – which had been monitoring the events above, zipped in just before the anomaly closed.

Giambi had asked Colonel Tyler Morgan and the resources of The Castle for assistance in rescuing the undercover agent. With some planning and thanks to the collaboration of ODIN, LOKI and Travis Burke, the wormhole incorporated both spatial and temporal characteristics to ensure a successful extraction. Eduardo Ramirez was being transported - both in space and in time - to a safe location.

* * *
At 9pm exactly, Gardner's phone rang.

"Okay Lucio, what didn't you want to talk to me about earlier?"

Giambi sighed. "Peter, one of my Venezuelan subsidiaries was having problems with a DEA agent ... I'm afraid we had to remove him."

An icy hand closed around Gardner's heart. In all of his dealings with Lucio and his men, there was an unwritten and unbroken code of honor among them. What had happened that caused that covenant to be broken and why was he calling him?

"And what do you expect me to do about that?" The FBI man's voice was tight.

"I was hoping you could speak with him and explain the situation. His name is Eduardo Ramirez. My guy has kept his cover intact, but I'm afraid too many questions would arise if he were assigned to South America again. I've even held back his identity from my soldieri there. Their organization is not quite as mature as some of my others and sometimes emotions can run a little hot."

The station chief let out a deep breath. "Shit ... I thought you killed him for a moment. I should've known better. Who'd you send down there to cool things down? Sounds like something Giaan's smoke and mirror department would handle ... Javi Malaspina? Jimmy Treaty?"

Lucio paused. "Sorry for giving you the wrong impression. And yes, it was Jimmy, by the way."

Giambi chuckled. "If you keep this up, Peter, I'm going to have to lure you away from that low-paying government job of yours... Ummm, you're going to having an unexpected visitor drop in momentarily ..."

At that point the FBI chief heard a thump and crash from across the apartment. "What the fuck?..." He dropped the phone and rushed into the other room.

A naked and soaking wet man had appeared from out of nowhere, along with the remains of a broken wooden chair. He was cuffed hand and foot and looked completely bewildered by his surroundings. Peter guessed that he had been tied to the chair, but the impact - first on the bed and being bounced to the floor - had broken him free. How he got into his bedroom was an enigma to Gardner as well.

"What ... who ... where am I?"

How the fuck did he get in here? "Let me get those off you ... " Gardner left the room, returning with a cuff key. "Eduardo Ramirez, I presume?" He pulled the comforter off the bed and wrapped it around the naked agent and helped him to his feet.

The man nodded. "Who are you?"

"Peter Gardner, FBI. Do you know what happened to you?"

Eduardo shook his head. "The last think I remember is being kicked over Angel Falls in Venezuela, screaming my head off and then bouncing off your bed and landing on the floor ... what are you smiling about?"

Gardner shook his head. Leave it to Jimmy and Lucio to handle the situation like this.

The station chief put an arm around the DEA agent and led him into the kitchen. "Let's just say I'm not unfamiliar with James Treaty ... Eddie, you happened to get involved with a criminal operation that is a helluva lot more decent and honorable than any government agency in the world. You would have been a dead man with anyone else. Let me tell you a bit about the Giambi organization and then we'll figure out what you're going to put into the report to your superiors."

The DEA agent looked shocked. "But ... but ... you're FBI ..."

"Those guys have pulled this country's nuts out of the fire more times than I can count ... I was about to order dinner. You like Chinese?"


* * *
Undoubtedly, you've seen my "Mexi-Mac" mask already and you were introduced (via Youtube) to Alejandro Sanz, the Venezuelan drug lord. I wanted to do something to bring him into my world, and having him become Lucio's South American captain was a perfect way to do that.

I've said this before, but the characters I create really do take on a life of their own. James Treaty was originally introduced as a security guard brought to Giaan's attention when he manhandled his cousin Kiran Patel.

Giambi's chief of intelligence took a liking to the young man, and he was subsequently given more and more responsibility. Jimmy also made an appearance in helping Alec Saldana at the Thornwood Foundation as part of his rotation through Lucio's various illicit operations. Here, you see that James has "graduated" to a troubleshooter for the Giambi organization.


Always a quick study, James employed a number of psychological techniques learned from Ariane Zutrovna to force the policemen to crack and betray Salcedo/Ramirez. From a prosthetic kneecap and neural induction to induce pain, to blackout lenses to simulate blindness, Treaty was able to incite terror and yet cause no lasting physical trauma. Alejo, of course was involved in the subterfuge with the two officers and played along to get the information from them.

The blackout lenses (called Pocket Darkrooms) were something that I particularly found intriguing. I came across mention of them on blackbody.nl. The original purpose of the lenses was to provide a sub with sensory deprivation magnitudes better than a hood or a blindfold. I thought this would be an excellent tool for an interrogation. Particularly for someone who didn't know they were in place.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Oh, my .....

Just found George Takei's page on Facebook - it's full of stuff that just makes you smile. Like this:


This is so accurate, it's scary!!!