VEHEMENT
PART I
It is the middle of August in Northeast Alabama.
Not a breeze in Huntsville, it seems, in weeks, almost The air is stale and stagnant. It is so humid... that even breathing has become an endeavor for everyone in "The Rocket City."
It's nearing dusk and the sun is setting, slowly. Heat lightning approaches from the eastern orange-pink sky, bringing heavy rain close behind.
A somewhat busy public park begins clearing out, as everyone races to get home before the storms.
Everyone vanishes from the parking lot, all but one car, belonging to the three young men left skateboarding and longboarding at the skatepark side of the park.
Watching the three, nearby, in the shadows, covered by the shade of overgrown kudzu is a large and mysterious van with blackout windows. It is parked, hidden from any sight of anyone not close by. Inside of the large cargo van are two hulking men, one in the driver's seat and one in the passenger's. The passenger is talking on loud speaker through his new burner phone that was recently purchased.
"Hey boss. Yeah, we're here. The target is in sight, but he has two others with him. Should we wait until he's alone, or...?"
The voice on the other line is stern, demanding, and forceful.
"Not a fuckin' chance!...I want you to find the perfect time to strike, and take it. I'm awarding the two friends to you and your men, if all goes quickly and quietly... Deliver the target to the compound, and you can all have the night off with your new prizes..."
The line hangs up abruptly.
The huge man smiles creepily, "10-4 Good Buddy!"
The large man puts away the phone, laughing subtly. He turns to the man next to him in the driver's seat, then looks behind him to observe the five other beefcakes sitting in the back of the van, waiting patiently.
"You hear that boy-o-s?!! We got two more to grab. So be extra assertive and get the job done like the experts that you are. Boss is lettin' us have our fun with the other two, so let's make this quick and easy and we can all get our rocks off tonight!"
The six other men laugh, ominously, with deviant looks upon their faces.
The passenger and driver watch the three boys passing a blunt amongst themselves. The three quickly race their way to the one parked car to avoid rain, all while passing the cigar.
The three young men are all remarkably sexy and fit. Their names are Christian, Samuel, and Jackson. They all attend the same university and run track at school.
Christian has just turned twenty, and he is your typical white fuck-boy with his tanned skin and body that is tight and lean from regularly working out. His blonde messy hair, is matted and sweaty underneath the Atlanta Braves backwards flatbill cap he is wearing. His eyes are a piercing icy blue color that suck you in as soon as you see him. His ears are pierced with a small black stud in his left and a small black cross hanging form a chain on his right earlobe. He is wearing a white tank top with a short-sleeved, unbuttoned shirt over it, with knee-length black nylon basketball shorts, and black ankle socks tucked into the black VANS with while laces on his feet. Just imagine if Scarlett Johannson and Leon Kennedy had a baby, Christian would be the result.
Samuel is nineteen years old, he is the skinniest of the three friends, but makes up for it being almost six foot and three inches tall. He would work out with his buddies every once in a while, and aside from running track, he was a fantastic competitive swimmer. His muscles were definitely defined, but his best quality was the slender swimmer's built chest and stomach of his that he loved showing off everywhere. His mom was from Argentina, while his dad is a white businessman from Louisiana, so the boy's skin has an olive colored tint, complimenting his already flawless complexion...Perfection. His brown, shaggy, mop-top hairstlyle with medium bangs overlay his bright green and stunning eyes. Sam had modeled out for a few local commercials and for the college's website, capturing him running track in his skimpy shorts, and loose tank-top. Sam currently wears a silver chain around his long slender neck. His fit consists of a tight sleeveless gray Under Armour compression shirt with a pair of blue plastic looking, shiny soccer shorts. Finally, the rainbow colored OSIRIS skate shoes on his size 14 feet, give off the distinct smell of pungent foot odor, as he regularly wears them without socks, pissing his friends off everytime he pulls them off.
Jackson is halfway through his twentieth year. He is a very hot white boy with his blondish brown hair in the e-boy curtain bangs style, draping over both sides of his face. Almost as tall as Sam, Jackson is very much built like his buddy, Christian. His thin, yet lean and muscular physique, definitely turn heads everywhere he goes. Jackson never had problems getting the girls or the guys to notice him. A ladies man through and through, he had dated at least four girls at school in the past 2 months, girl, after girl, after girl. Each one of them, cheated on with the next, making the handsome boy in college... Enemy No. 1 in alot of girl's eyes. The young stud, being spied on, was currently sweating a ton, not wearing any shirt, as his chest and pronounced abs, glistened with sweat in the fading sunlight. His casual gray linen sweatpants had the legs rolled up to his calves, accenuating his bubble butt, and striking, unsubtly swinging dick. His feet were also very pungent, as he's wearing his 9 year old black Chucks with no socks.
Of course, little did the young and beautiful Jackson know, that he was currently the target of several men who were hired to stalk him and kidnap him, and his oblivious friends.
The three sit on the hood of their car, watching as the last car left the park's lot. Jackson quickly pulled a stinky, freshly-rolled blunt from his pocket and began to light up...
"Hold on dude!!...Let's fuckin hot-box that shit." Sam persuades the other two into hopping in the car and smoke out Jackson's brand-new, crimson-colored Altima.
The three friends all load their boards into the car's trunk, and climb inside, with Sam in the back, Christian in the passenger seat, and Jackson behind the wheel.
As the blunt burns and their cares quickly evaporate with the thick ganja smoke that fills the inside of the car. The sun completely disappears under the dark clouds and the boys smoke up the inside of the car, as rain pelts down onto the car's windshield. All three boys, now clearly stoned, laugh about girls at school that they've hooked up with, while occasionally trying to rap along to Kendrick Lamar songs.
All within minutes of them getting stoned and carelessly having their young, dumb fun, the two rear passenger doors on each side of the Altima, flung open from the outside. Sam jumped at he event, unfolding on either side of him, trapping him in the back of the car. Christian forcedly coughed loudly during this as he sucked in his hit on the blunt, almost swallowing the rest. Jackson screamed loudly, cursing at the men, who he thought were just a couple of low-life thieves.
As all three of the young college students were now startled and terrified, they now saw the two very large men, both wearing black leather gimp masks, quickly hop into the backseat flanking Sam on both sides. One man was holding the gun barrel to Sam's head and the other to the back of Jackson's in the driver seat.
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! What the fuck, dude?!!! Who the fuck are you guys?!!!" Jackson yelled, starting to turn his head around to face what was behind him.
"Turn the fuck around, and shut that pretty mouth of yours, bitch..."
The man directly behind him, cocked the gun he now had pressed against the back of Jackson's head.
All three boys now have their hands raised above their heads, with Christian holding the blunt in his left. The man behind Christian grabbed the rest of the blunt from his fingers.
"Well, Well. What do we have here?... A bit of the sticky icky, huh?" The man took a long drag from the blunt, finishing with a French Inhale.
"That's some good shit, boys! You know this stuff is still illegal, here in Alabama, don't ya?"
The two young men in the front of the car looked at each other with puzzled expressions.
"Do everything we tell you and nothing will happen to your little friend here. Got it?!!"
The man, now smoking their weed, cocked his gun, now pressed against Sam's cheek, while Sam quivered fearfully.
Jackson slowly turned his head behind him, trying to help his friend, currently being threatened.
"Dudes, whatever you want, my parent's are loaded. They can give you mon--."
The man behind Jackson pressed the gun's barrel, forcefully into the back of his head, throwing his huge left, black leather gloved palm tightly sealing over Jackson's lips. Then the man started then rubbing his hand all over the young man's face.
"Shut the fuck up, college boy. We have plans for you three and cash money ain't a' one of em'!"
The other gunman puts the blunt in his mouth and is then quick to produce an unexpected roll of shiny 3M duct tape. He quickly hovers over Sam's front, ripping the strip loudly from the roll, applying it to the pretty boy's cheeks, circulating around his head tighter and tighter, with each turn, seven wraps around Sam's mouth and head.
"Whoa, man!! Don't do that! He can't breathe, dude!!" Christian said as he turned his head to yell at the attackers.
"Shut the fuck up, blondie!! He can breathe just fine... for now...It all depends on if you boys do exactly as we say, Are We Copacetic??!!!..."
Both boys in the front of the car nod "yes."
"Okay then, I'd ask what your friend here's name is but...well." The man chuckled menacingly, as Sam mumbled and sniffled the dripping snot running out of his nostrils.
Jackson paused and revealed his friend's name.
"Alright, well... Sam, here, is gonna go with my partner here. AND there will be zero funny business coming from you two, will there? If there is, boys, you'll never, ever see your sexy friend, here, ever again, you got it?!!!"
The gunman behind Christian opened the door and threw away the blunt as he grabs Sam by the back of his sweaty brown hair and sweaty shoulder, pulling him from the back of the car.
Without a second to spare, the large ominous cargo van pulled sharply next to the Altima. With Sam stumbling to the rear entrance and the gunman behind him, the van's rear doors flew open, as multiple arms and hands from inside were ready to seize young Sam's body, while the man behind him strong-armed him into the van.
The gunman behind Jackson holds out his hand and demands both boy's cells. Jackson pries his from the car holder in the air conditioner vent, while Christian's is pulled from his pocket. The man, then places his own smartphone in the car holder.
"Okay then, just for a little bit more of collateral. We're gonna do a little video call here in a sec...But for now, when ya see that van pull out and drive, you will follow close behind doing the same, no questions asked, ya hear?!"
The man held his gun tight to the back of Jackson's head.
"Got it?!"
Both young men nod their heads and say "Yes...."
Jackson starts breathing heavily with rage, as he cuts his watery bloodshot eyes at Christian, while Christian does the same. They speechlessly try to figure out what to do, as they stare into each other's faces.
"Okey-dokey, then. Handsome one in the driver's seat... Please press "Video Call" on the phone in front of you, please..."
Jackson video calls the number pre-selected on the phone, as it answers almost immediately.
Five men in the van, dressed like the other two gunmen, are assaulting their friend with ropes. They had already pried off every little bit of his clothing, leaving him in his Tighty-Whities.
The men look into the phone, holding their friend in view, as two others bound him with yards of rope, tight around his thin biceps and crafting a rope-harness to his lean chest.
Both boys in the car try to turn their heads to their attacker behind them, trying to beg for mercy for their friend.
"Shut up, and get ready for our adventure." The man said sternly, holding the gun barrel to Christian's temple tightly, now, as he looked maddeningly at both boys.
"Alright then, Blondie. You need to lean forward, wrists behind your back, interlocking your fingers, Yeah?! DO IT NOW!!"
Christian hesitantly and slowly leaned and complied to his captor's orders.
The gunman attached heavy-duty black steel handcuffs, that were chainless between each cuff, behind his strong back, clicking to the tightest notch on each wrist. Once the cuffs were applied, he pulled Christian by his left shoulder and pulled him back in to his seat.
Two of the kidnappers in the van, on the other side of the video call, and their tied up friend watched for the kidnapper on the other line's last signal before driving off. The blonde boy in the front seat, unsuspectantly and aggressively had his mouth gagged and his head wrapped to the car's headrest with the same duct tape used on Sam's mouth to the back of his car headrest.
The men in the van, yelled as the only unbound boy (The Target) was now forced to comply with their demands.
"All Right BOY!!, Let's get a move on shall we?!!" The man tore the duct tape from Jackson's friend's head, yelling "YEE-HAW!!"
The van's backed up and slowly, accelerated slowly, then started speeding up, as the Altima followed close behind.
Poor Christian screamed into the tape on his mouth, creating a tight cleave gag into the corners of his thick lips, now turning white with the extreme tension. Jackson watched in horror glancing ever so often at his friend's predicament. As he drove, his friend's excruciating screams were again muffled and choked back as the man behind him wrapped more tape over his lips, sealing his screams, and silencing the inside of the car.
"You know, this has got to be the best job I have ever had... Kidnapping 'quote+unquote' "Alpha Males" like you and your friend here. Driving them to submit their every bit of willpower, and then just watching you all just become submissive little bondage sluts..."
The gunman chuckled to himself in the backseat, rubbing the gun's barrel against his head, scratching it.
He sighed a long pleasant sigh, "Mmmm, it's just gets no better than this..."
Jackson watched the man in his rearview mirror, eyeing him, ragefully.
"Sir... please... Can I please just ask why you are doing this to us? We didn't do anything to deserve any of this... My parents, seriously will pay you anything you want. You just gotta let us go!"
Jackson pleaded with him in the mirror, at least trying to find some sort of reasoning with the man.
"Okay then, driver!!" Jackson shuddered as the man held the barrell of the gun back to his temple.
"Am I gonna need to wrap what's left of this here tape around your head, too? It'll be awful difficult to catch up to your friend in the van if your face is plastered to your seat... SHUT YOUR FUCKIN' PRETTY MOUTH!! YOU GOT IT?!!"
Jackson began to sniffle as a single tear rolled below his eye, wiping with one hand and concentrating on the van's direction.
The drive lasts for about twelve minutes as the van pulled onto an EXIT lane, toward a deserted Rest Stop.
Jackson stared at the road, glancing occasionally at the phone, still displaying his tall and skinny friend, now with a rope chest harness, trapping his arms and wrists tightly and securely into his back. A man clamped his black leather hand over Sam's taped up mouth, looking into Jackson's eyes as his other hand played with Sam's flaccid dick held inside his tight white briefs.
Sam stared in to the phone's screen eyeing his friends, begging and pleading with his bloodshot eyes, for help.
Jackson was furious as he drove carefully behind the van, as it pulled behind a set of dumpsters located a football field length away from the Rest Stop, in the dark, abandoned parking lot.
"Boy...I want you to pull over behind that concrete wall, pull up beside the van, park the car, and kill the lights."
The man held his gun to Christian's taped face, causing him to squeal into the excessive gag.
Jackson obeyed the orders.
Now, pulled behind the dumpster pit, and lights turned off, the three, just sat in darkness, for a few seconds.
"Open up your window, turn off the engine, and throw the keys and your friend's cellphone into that open field right over there..."
Jackson hesitantly complied, as the young driver held up his hands as he turned his head to the right to plead with the man behind him.
"Hey man, please... just please, hear me out, we're only college students, we won't say a word to nobody, you can't just do this to people it's illegaaahhh__"
Jackson's sentence was cut short, as a small syringe, pierced the left side of his neck from the man behind him, injecting him with something, knocking him out almost immediately.
Jackson sank into his seat, unconscious, as the attacker removed the needle.
Christian, then panicked behind his gag, trying to free himself. He darted and cut his eyes everywhere he could, cutting his eyes on his left at his friend's, now limp body.
"Don't worry, you Sexy Bitch!! You're gonna love what me and the boys have in store for you..."
Christian kicked his legs while trying to bite at the tight tape that glued his head to his seat. The man behind him grabbed the boy's head, under his chin, and injected the same drug into his neck. Very soon, Christian's head sank into the tight duct tape hammock, suspending his head, as he lost consciousness on the dot.
The man in the car looked into his phone, still on Video Call.
"Alright, Boys!! We got em'!! Help me get these two in the van! I think we'll leave the one ya'll got tied up already, we'll leave him awake, so that he can see just what's in store for him and his buddies, here..."
The man smiled evily into the camera, into Sam's defeated face, as the young man moaned and screamed, and twisted his roped up shoulders and arms in a fit of rage at the man speaking through the phone.
"We got another 30- 40 miles to go, boy... so get comfortable."
