The Telemachus Story Archive

Part 8 - The Takedown
By Wolfpek
Email: Wolfpek

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Nick could make out an expression of confusion and rage on Brent's face. He seemed unable to command his own powerful body to resist as the prince lifted his legs and slowly, teasingly slid his dick into the quarterback's enslaved shitter. The famous gravel voice, growled, and then moaned as his owner's rod ripped into the unexplored territory of the star athlete's clamping hole. The new slaves entire body began to rock with each increasingly rapid thrust. With tears in his eyes Brent's head swiveled back and forth in a futile "NO!" against the rough stone of the slab.

What made Nick turn away in disgust was Sin's cruel laugh drowning the ragged moans and echoed through the hall. The cock sucker found this funny. Now he was distracted. Now it was time to strike.

"Let's get the bastard, chief."

"Sounds like a plan"

Sin Continued, his face still red and tearing from laughter,

"Our next subject is a conquest I have desired personally since before he was even born. My perfect man, and the centerpiece of my permanent collection. Gentlemen I present for your puerile pleasure......................

FBI special agent Nicolo DiCipriani"

Nick felt strong arms grab his own sinewy limbs, the oversized triceps not given time to react. A softer arm encircled his barreled chest, and the sharp pain of a syringe injected into his thick veined neck. He strained his head as far as he could manage to see the grinning moon face of Hal Danvers, who cupped his pectoral with one hand as he completed the injection with the other.

The balding bastard nuzzled his ear and in a blowing whisper answered Nick's shock.

"Like you said Nick, get the bastard... looks like I finally got the drop on you"

He bit deeply into the lobe. The steaming hot breath from Danvers mouth seemed to become a rushing wind into the Italian tough guy's brain which carried him high into the vaulted ceiling and then in swooping circles down into the crowd and back up again, as his body slumped backwards against into the chief's waiting pot bellied embrace. He felt Danver's flag pole stiff cock poking into the small of his back as he leaned against his employer.

Wronek and Hunt had released his arms which now hung uselessly at his side, and now ripped apart his robes to reveal the magnificent heaving torso. The crowd gasped collectively in appreciation. A collection of muscles, so clearly defined that they seemed almost separate from one another, a sinewy patchwork of the Greek ideal. Nothing but muscle made up this massive but lean torso, the huge rounded pectorals outlined by just enough hair in the deep cleft, and along the underside to accentuate the masculinity of this perfect, cast a heavy shadow over the thin flat stomach which sported a series of sharply defined abdominals, and the faintest outline of ribs, all divided down the middle by a soft black treasure trail. The crowning jewels, of course were the small but pert wine red nipples which stood to attention stretched vaultward.

Under heavy lids Nick watched his clothing roughly removed. He noticed Doc, bruised but not dead, standing grinning at him from a pillar.

"Sorry mate" said Hunt "Got no choice anymore"

"We've been processed for weeks, sir." said Wronek. " The mother fuckers planted us deliberately in your path. We have to do exactly as they command. I am sorry sir. I would have been proud to serve with you"

"Ch…. Chief….wa why?"

The answer whispered so far into his ear that the small hairs tickled within the canal

"Mr. Sin made me an offer I couldn't refuse, something I've wanted so very badly for a long time"

Of course, it all made sense now. Danvers had set him up as his only contact. Now one on the force even knew he was on this mission!

"Wha … betray… for ..wha…?"

Nick felt a podgy hand slide down to cup one high round glute

"Why your ass of course"

" No o unnh" Nick's tree trunk legs buckled beneath him, and he fell deeper into Danver's lascivious grasp.

His foot wear had disappeared and with one rip the tight white briefs shredded away. The perfect cut body of the hot shot FBI agent was now completely naked and vulnerable within the groping clutches of his enemies. Danvers' roaming hand choked his beer can thick cock. He had always been proud of it's unusual and intimidating length, now inexplicably rock hard and oozing precum imprisoned in a rapists hand.

He caught a glimpse of the wounded Virgil huffing with each thrust of a fat hairy guests forearm buried elbow deep in his stretched hole. He had let him down, it would happen again, and again. Sorry kid.

The buzzing oceans crashing within ears did not drown out the sound of those taunting him. He fought to maintain control of his own limbs.

"You see Nick, I could never afford a slave on my salary. Some how Sin found out how I've been watching that round tight butt over the years and he made me an offer. He gets a mole in the FBI, I get to live out my retirement in this paradise and we both get you"

"Enough! Danvers, bring him to me" commanded Sin.

With an exhaled sigh, Nick fell over Danver's shoulder as his boss bent, and then straightened, his hunky burden now dangling over his stooped shoulders.

His head dangling pointed toward the floor, was actually still spinning in rapid circles and bouncing from floor to ceiling. He felt the insistent pounding of his heart could be heard to the far reaches of the island. Each exhalation of breath carried with it a whirring ticklish wave centered on where Danvers' bony shoulder dug into his solar plexus, making that point of contact nearly unbearable. He was painfully aware that all eyes were riveted on his plump exposed buttocks arched lewdly above his captors pudgy frame. Worse, his dick, now more granite solid and larger than it had ever been squashed painfully against the traitor's back, would not stop leaking precum, the effect of the powerful drug. A widening spot of ooze now saturate d the back of Danvers' shirt where the tip of his dick rubbed against the shoulder. He felt Danver's hand snake up to cup one cheek possessively.

He had learned, during his time hear how the masters loved seeing their helpless stud-slaves in this debased position, how they slobbered over the countless pairs of ripe buns bent upward to their wills. He was going to save them all, and now it was him, Nick, the tough guy from Bensonhurst, who never lost a fight, the brave agent who had known no fear, securely hanging completely in the power of his perverted betrayer.

From his regal perch, Sin's mouth became a Sahara, with his heart pounding at the base of his tongues to match his victim's. he had longed for just this sight, or the idea of this sight since he could remember. He never cared for men who were too pretty, or easily taken.

For Sin the joy of what he did was the hunt for the unattainable, strongest, and most dangerous men. The meanest, most masculine, most heroic. Since he had seen the first surveillance photos, he had known that Nick was the most perfect specimen of this most desired species. He would have given everything he had to posses him. It had taken three years of spying, stalking, and negotiating. He had finally found his breakthrough in the like minded, and lonely Hal Danvers.

There may have been other ways to capture this prize stud. This sting had been costly and time consuming, but now, at this moment. It was worth it. The perfect strong hero brought down by the sweet betrayal. The rugged hunk had trusted Danvers so completely. The cruelty of it. His dick throbbed at the thought of it. Betrayed.

Now, finally, here was his ideal, his Spartacus, draped, helpless, arms and legs swaying with the labored movements of the panting Danvers. The magnificent ass bent submissively and served up before him as a succulent feast…his.

He smiled at the apt phrase from a distant echo of the castrati's chant;

"propinat me nunc dapiferNunc in scutella iaceo, dentes frendentes video"

To be continued……..

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