Finally! I'm officially out of there! I love what America should be, but I can't support what it is now. Fuck it. I'm no longer an 'American Citizen', and I have the signed and stamped papers to prove it. I am now a citizen of the United Nations, Geneva, Switzerland. I have the only status you can have without a formal citizenship in a country somewhere. I literally bear diplomatic immunity all across the globe. I also risk simply vanishing, with no country interested in my whereabouts.
I'm through the passport check and into the reception area. The man in the black monkey suit with my name on a placard is easy to find, and I flash him my shiny new passport as we exchange nods. He's about forty, a bit of a paunch, and sports a ridiculous idea of facial hair. The drive to the hotel sucks, but oh well. I'm not here for scenery, just a quick satisfaction of a burning need, then off to Amsterdam, to sate the next: The word is that the goods there are immaculate. I sure do love the Nords, and having one there would be fantastic! Not to mention the party scene!
But here in Bonn, I have only thing to do, and I want it tonight. Inside the limo, the package I had requested is waiting. Good stuff, green and gold and purple. Papers and a roller, as I requested, as well as a grinder, a tiny pair of scissors, several kinds of clips, and a one-hitter rounded out the little package. I readied and smoked as the city passed by.
The hunter knows I arrive today, where I will be staying, and what I am looking for. I had been explicit with him, describing what I wanted in painstaking detail. He had assured me that he would have what I wanted ready for me to take possession of within hours of my arrival. His reception so far is outstanding.
The small limo pulls up in front of the hotel and I shake my head at the place. The Hotel Haus Hindenburg is one of the those old ones, built ornately and intricately. I had asked for a good room in a regular, real German hotel, and this looks fine, and as I had expected. Inside it's ornate, almost opulent, and very dark and imposing. I like it. I sign in and drop the four-fifty in cash. The clerk doesn't bat an eye. I take my two bags and myself up to my room.
I'm shaking with anticipation as I sit waiting for the call, checking my watch every few minutes. When the phone finally rings, I answer, and it's him.
"Delirious Shopper?" his voice asks, his German accent not too heavy.
"Yes, and I spend much time on the hunt."
"Then you hunt an elusive prey."
"Yes, and one that must be correct."
"Or the client moves along."
Our exchange done, each of us knowing we are speaking to the right person, he gets down to business.
"I have your package, ready for pickup. You can verify your funds now, ja?"
I hang up the phone to call the new bank. I push the right buttons and get a message that it is successful. My phone rings very soon.
"I will meet you in front in ten minutes. White Lotus."
I'm shaking, I'm so nervous! I've never done anything like this before, and I don't know exactly what to expect. I know the mechanics of the actual deal, and what will happen when, since we had worked that out online over the last month. Once I had talked to Private Hunter, and gotten to like him, I chose him out of the other recommended hunters.
I have to remember to give a little something extra to Jensen for suggesting this guy. Now getting to meet him I worry it's all a setup, but if it is, then I think I can surprise the guy. He has no idea, I hope. I eye the black case.
I check to make sure I have what little I carried with me; my wallet, passport, the book I was reading, my glasses, the briefcase with the laptop and other things; and the little black case. I walk out of the hotel, leaving the key with the desk. I may return, or I may head straight to Amsterdam. I smile, feeling so free now that I have no schedule, no deadlines, no responsibilities, house keys, no work keys, or indeed, even a key ring!
I stand at the large doors, waiting. It's not long before a white Lotus pulls up, the engine sounding more like a racing car than a street car. It revs, nearly setting the glass in the old building shaking.
The driver leans back, obviously waiting. I square my shoulders and walk out bravely, despite the churning in my guts. I know this can land me in jail, dead, or worse, but I want what he's selling. He ignores everyone, unless they get close, then he looks up to observe. I get as close as the front of the car, on which I can't resist trailing my fingertips, before he notices me. He casts his eyes to mine, probably wondering if I'm his client or not, or some guy out cruising for another. He smiles and I wonder what he's thinking as my fingers follow the line of the fender up to the door. I half expect to see a gun as I open the door. I gently place the two cases in back and slip into the seat.
His hand is suddenly in my field of view, extended in greeting I assume. I smile and meet his eyes as I shake his hand. He's nearly as stunning in person as the vehicle! His steel gray eyes stand out first, then his straight, raven black hair. Then his narrow, peach lips against his pale white complexion. He's cute, and I want him.
"Good to meet you, finally," he says with that moderated German accent.
His narrow features fit him well. He seems to resemble a bust of someone I saw once, some aristocrat or Roman personage. He is definitely cute, and I look forward to getting into his pants. I know I will.
"You too. You have my requested property?" I ask, wanting to get to it as soon as possible.
He nods and says, "Your toy waits for us."
He accelerates, the wheels churning and squealing. I'm thrown back into the seat as we tear out into traffic. He drives like a mad man, but it's fun. I'm doing nothing illegal, yet, and there are no clues of the illegal purchase we are about to transact, on me at least. The pot is a minor worry, and one I know how to walk away from.
"Ten minutes," he says, accelerating around a truck. "In folder here, pictures."
I take them out, seeing what I hope to see: The right age, the right colors, the right shapes. No scratches or marks, just perfection. I ache to touch, handle, fondle, possess, own, control. My cock twitches in anticipation. I know somewhere someone is in tears, but I want. So smooth, so sleek, so sensually posed, and obviously ready. Perfect, except the restraints.
"Why the chains?" I ask.
"Locked up tight. I have keys."
He smiles, still watching the road. I admire him. His face is smallish, almost delicate. Gentle seeming, surprising considering what he does for a living. His soft seeming hands give no hints at what he certainly has to wash from them from time to time. Unless he has others do all the dirty work, which is possible considering his prices. But he's recommended as the best by my Jensen, whom I trust, and I've gotten to like him, too.
My guts churn in me as I run various plans through my head to have him as well as the expensive new purchase as Bonn slides by in a blur. He says that my purchase is far out into the country, isolated. As he acquires them, he uses an empty farm barn to keep them safely stored until they are purchased.
Once we communicated for a while, and we feel comfortable with each other, he is surprisingly open about how he acquires his items. I think some of his methods are merely bragging. Soon I realize he is merely assuring me of his gentle and delicate handling of them, to assure only the best quality.
Now as I ask him if he has any recent acquisitions. His eyes light up.
"I have one, one so special I fear I may never sell!," he says, his hand fondling the shift lever. "Beautiful! Red all over! The real red, not that fake red shit, no. Smooth, too, and not a scratch! Purrs like kitten and soft and gentle, but strong and forceful when you want!. Will do what ever you ask, no problem!"
"Sounds too good to be true," I say, meaning it.
"You will see! I will let you have for a few minutes, okay? You see how does anything you want so willing you think your mind has been read for you!" he says enthusiastically.
I'm doubtful, but I might check it out. A few minutes to warm up with a red might be nice before I have my own for the first time. Nothing wrong with a little foreplay, I figure.
The drive is fantastic. Once we clear the narrow streets and hit the highway, we roar onward. His sound system is great, and his taste in music close to my own; Rush blares out around us, nearly drowning the roar of his engine and the wind.
In no time he pulls onto another highway, then a side street, then a side road. Out into the country a couple of miles and he smiles and points at a run down old barn. My guts start tangling up. I still can't believe I'm going to do this. I've only let myself think about doing this a very few times, knowing how most people consider it so wrong. But I want this, I want what I paid this cute guy to find. I want to do it. I had been very specific with him about what I wanted, and he had said he could fill it exactly.
He turns onto a small side road and soon we're lost forest. The road turns and stops at the ruins of an old farmhouse. The barn is standing, looking to be strong and sturdy yet. He parks in front of that large, old barn. As we get out of the car, he's smiling so widely that I worry he might split his face.
"My job is the best in the world!" he shouts, spreading his arms wide and turning slowly around in a circle. "I give people what they want. Yes? You want what you cannot have in America, or many countries, yes? But I, Dietrich, I can give it for you!"
He walks toward the barn, still delivering his spiel as I follow him, smiling. My palms are sweating in anticipation. The view of his ass is nice, too, and I imagine it naked, spread before me, powerless as I enter.
"What you want was no easy one! So picky you are! But I, I find. Not easy to get hands on either. Fought me at first. Stubborn! But I have good men who work for me. They convince to be good, do as should do. Easier that way. So, now is ready for new master."
He unlocks the large padlock, releasing the chains around the door handles. Pushing one door open allows light to spill inward, revealing a stonework floor and a vision out of my fantasies.
It's there, just as I had asked for. The slender, svelte, smooth lines being revealed as the shadow of the opening second door moves across it. And a perfect age, I note. In all the glory of its design it sits there, patiently knowing, silently waiting, poised on the edge of motion it seems. I lose my breath.
And it's mine.
Tentatively, I walk closer. I can see no marks, no scratches, no mars on the perfection of it's appearance. I delicately trace a smooth, graceful curve with my finger. The feeling of silk on my bare skin was never as smooth. The sparkle of the sunlight on the twin orbs seems playful as they seem to follow my every move.
I sigh, hoping that I don't cry. Worth ten times what I'm going to pay! To me, anyway. Every arch, every smooth curve, every adorable detail is perfect. I can't ask for more. I can't wait to enter, to possess, to control, to own it.
Dietrich swaggers in, smiling wide, knowing I'm pleased as I continue to caress and adore. Motionless, but filled with energy, pliant but sturdy, willing and needing all at once. My cock is hard, nearly throbbing. My pulse is racing. I start to sweat. I tremble slightly in anticipation of being inside, enclosed in the smooth, warm cocoon.
"So, yes, you like? You take possession?"
"I take possession," I nearly whisper.
I take my phone out, dial the bank, okay the transfer. In seconds the large sum is in his account. He dials his phone, punches a few numbers, then smiles.
"Done deal?" I ask.
"Yes. Deal done," he replies. "Before you take, you like to play with my new red one? Very nice, very smooth, you like? I wish to play, you join us?"
I grinned widely, having forgotten. I nod and he leads me around several corrals. Each one that isn't empty holds a toy for another client. They range from older than me to so young that I wonder why he deals in them; those you could get about anywhere. He shows me his new acquisition, beaming as he does. I can't blame him. Flawless. I love real red ones myself, and I understand his pride. This one is so smooth I could not resist running my fingers over its curves and contours. My pulse quickens and my breath deepens at the touch. Before long, we took turns in control or just riding, alone and together. It's fantastic! The grace, the energy, the feel! I can only hope my own responds the same. I envy him his toy.
Once we finish we wipe the sweat from ourselves and catch our breath. He winks at me and throws me keys as we walk back to my own new toy.
"For yours," he says.
The first keys in my new lifestyle. I notice there are no keys for the locks for the chains, and I start to mention so when he leans down and gently pats my new toy.
"There now my little one, here is your new master. You go with him and be a good boy! He will treat you good and take care of you for now on. You understand?" he says as he unlocks the padlocks.
The chains rattle loudly as he pulls them from around my new acquisition. I can hardly wait to feel the soft luxury of myself inside, the warm smooth tight embrace around me.
He pats the backside firmly once, saying, "Now be good to your new owner!"
We shake hands on our deal.
"These are needed documents," he says, passing me a packet.
"They are in the name I specified?"
"Yes. All perfect of course!"
"So, now that I have possession, and the business is done, may I ask you a personal question, Dietrich?"
"Yes. Most certainly."
"Do you like the top, or the bottom?" I ask, closing in on him, pulling him closer with our clenched hands.
He smiles widely and replies, "As we talked before, I can get you anything your heart desires, and if the price is good, the extra services are extensive, and very personal."
"Was my price good?" I ask, thinking of the extra funds.
He kisses me, slightly surprising me. Our flirtations had been frequent online, but I never expected him to be this enthusiastic in person. I return his kisses, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling his small body against mine. He wastes no more time and almost tears my shirt off me.
His small body crushes up against mine and I can feel his heat. He grinds his crotch into my thigh and it's obvious he's as ready as I am. He manages to grind himself against my cock, proving the same to himself. He grins at me as he pulls back from the kisses and attacks my nipples. I take the former buttoned shirt off and throw it over my new toy: It rests quietly, waiting it's turn.
We fall to the hay covered floor and remove each other's clothing in stages; hurried but not frantic. I do want him, and I do have the energy and desire after playing with him and his toy. When I remove his briefs there is no doubt he has the energy and will as well. His smallish body is smooth, pale and nearly hairless. His raven black hair is in the usual places, but so fine that it hardly matters. Only his bush has that kind of density, and even then he trims and shapes it into a nearly perfect triangle.
I grasp his cock. It's long enough to stand out the side of my fist, but no longer. The corona around his pink head is just at the edge of my hand as I push his foreskin back fully, the other side of my hand buried in his bush. He gasps and wriggles under me, smiling before returning his pale lips to my own. His body is slight and thin, the muscles toned and firm. His pink nipples are large and prominent, and licking and sucking them is pleasurable.
When he rolls me onto my back and pins my arms, I know he wants in charge. I let him, looking forward to being subservient to the smaller topper. Using his own legs, he spreads mine and grinds his cock behind my sack. He hits the spot quite often, just teasing. As he slides down my body with his tongue I shiver. His pinches to my nipples are firm and slightly painful, but not too much so. I wince and he relents. I groan loudly and he increases. We are working well together.
Now his hot breath rolls over my cock, and I watch as I feel his tongue probing gently at the hole and licking around the head. I moan and wriggle, wrapping my legs around his torso and crossing my arms behind my head. He begins, and does well. He knows how to use his tongue, his lips, the roof of his mouth, even his teeth properly.
His hands know where to go, too. One hand strokes my cock in time with his bobbing head, the other playing with my balls. I slightly push my hips at times as I enjoy his talents. He switches the hand stroking me - now that it was soaked with his spit - between my legs and circles and probes at my entry. He smiles at me around my cock, then sucks so hard I worry it's going to hurt as he pulls his mouth off my cock. I see it's turned purple already.
He pushes my legs up at me, and I hold them as he uses his mouth on my hole. He's talented at this too! I have to wriggle under his mouth. Now he pushes his tongue to the verge of entering, teasingly close, then removes it. He repeats it, again and again. Soon I push toward it, begging for it. Firmly and swiftly he slides a finger into me as far as he can. I groan and squirm on the digit. He pushes against my prostate and begins massaging it, making me groan loudly.
I gasp and wriggle, impaled on his digit. I push against it, wanting more. He obliges and a second finger enters me. They both push against that core of sex inside of me again and again. I'm leaking pre-cum onto my belly, just above my bush. My cock swells and jerks as another thin stream of clear fluid oozes out from his thumb now massaging from outside.
His hand reaches for his trousers in the hay. From the pocket he pulls a condom tears it open with his teeth. He spits the edge into the hay and, still one handed, applies it to himself expertly. He scoots nearer and I return to holding my legs. He probes lightly, then further. I hold out. He grins and lays against the back of my thighs, positions himself better, then applies more pressure. I bounce my eyebrows once and resist. He grins and uses a hand to help guide himself into me with more force. Eventually I relent, pushing as well, and he enters quickly.
I gasp loudly and arch my head back. It's painful, but not too much. He moves deeper into me, quickly and deeply until pounding my ass with his hips.
"Oh fuck!" I gasp, pushing the back of my head firmly into the hay.
He withdraws slowly, pausing with just his head in me, then slides in firmly. In moments he is deep groans come from his small frame as he fucks me with energy and power. I transfer my hands to his nipples now that his weight holds my legs in place. I pinch and twist, guiding him in how hard he takes me. I pull one hard and he slams into me, slapping our skins like clapping hands. I brush gently over his nipples and he strokes smoothly in and out of me.
One of his hands takes my cock in it's grasp. He slides my skin up, smears my pre-cum around, then slides his fingers tightly over my cock. The friction is exquisite. His thumb strokes across the tip often, urging more pre-cum from it. It obliges. His fingers grow slicker on my head, and tighten.
I groan and weave my hips in time with his. He increases speed, panting now. I'm nearing. He slides his hand off the end of my cock, tightly the entire way. I gasp and he concentrates his actions there, on my head and the corona. I'm rushing toward my orgasm.
He pushes deep into me, holds, his eyes closed tightly in a grimace. He grunts, quivers, shakes. I feel his cock swelling and pumping in me. It sends me off. I come, firing onto my chest as he strokes me tightly and slowly, only stimulating my head and its edges. I fire again as his orgasm ends, his cock now stationary in me. I cum again, the thick streamer plopping across my belly. Again, again, finally again, my cum coats my cock and his fingers as he continues stimulating only the end of my cock.
He pulls himself from me as the first post-orgasmic shiver hits me. The expert timing forces another wave or orgasmic release through me, the last of my fluids drooling from the end of my cock onto his fingers. Still he strokes me, and I let him. I shiver and jerk as he rubs my cum over my sensitive cock head. Finally he relents, laying down on his side next to me.
My back pops loudly as I lay my legs flat again, the muscles complaining and my hips popping as well. I groan as I relax my entire body.
"Gut timing, ya?" he asks breathlessly.
I don't know if he means his withdrawal, which stimulated that extra wave of pleasure, or if he means our nearly mutual orgasm, or yet something else, but I agree.
Laying in the hay, I see my new toy just feet away, still waiting patiently for its turn, my shirt still where I had thrown it.
I'm a bit surprised I have the energy to play with my own new toy after playing with his and then him, but I do. I ache to caress it as I am inside. I ache to feel it around me, under me, to control it completely, to make it do as I wish.
Standing naked over it, my cock hardens and my pulse races again. Its shape is as perfect as possible. No extra weight, but enough that it was smooth, soft, luxurious, yet sleek, lean and powerful. It was toned, trim and svelte; there can be no more a perfect example. I'm deeply satisfied with it already, and I haven't ridden it yet.
Not able to wait any longer, the fingers of my left hand slip into it and I open it slowly, hoping to make my impending entry as easy as possible. The sounds it makes as I do so are the most satisfying ones I can imagine. My cock is throbbing again, my nipples becoming sensitive, my ass twitches.
Now that I had its insides exposed, I slid myself into the soft, smooth warmth of it. Our surfaces touching, meeting for the first of many times.
Dietrich is standing near, watching, smiling, knowing the enjoyment I'm having. Its movements are smooth and sensual.
Sighing in pleasure, not moving anything but my fingers as I hold stationary within the wonderful embrace of it, they slide over it, caressing everything that I can reach. The smell is even fresh, clean.
Eventually I do what I know I will: I twist, smoothly, gently. Grumbling at first, it turns to purrs almost instantly. The vibrations under me send me into ecstatic shivers.
I lightly dwell along the contours before I pull it softly closed. The sounds it make are most satisfying.
I check every button, switch and dial. The radio, heater, air conditioning, windows, locks. All work properly. The interior is perfect, no wear visible.
"You had the interior redone?" I ask.
"The previous owner. Not long ago it would seem, eh?"
"No. Not at all. It's wonderful!"
"I am glad you are glad," he says, extending his hand.
We shake, and I roll outside. I take a quick trial around the area and I return to the barn.
I let it continue to warm up as I dress.
"If any problems you call. I will find place to fix where you are. Okay? Should be perfect. I check myself."
"Thank you. I look forward to enjoying my new toy!"
He holds his finger up momentarily, biding me to wait. He returns with my cases and puts them in the back for me. He gently and properly closes the hatch, I gratefully notice.
"You are all set now. If there is nothing else?"
"No. I have your number if I have any troubles. I hope the previous owner won't miss it too much."
"No worries. He painted blue. He did not deserve it."
"BLUE?" I ask, appalled, as I close the door, again hearing that satisfying sound.
"Yes, horrifying blue, like winter sky. Awful!"
"Never mind, you got the perfect shade on it now. Thank you."
"Yes. This is the right color for nine-twenty-eight. You have good taste."
"You, too," I say, nodding at his red Ferrari in the barn and his white Lotus parked nearby.
"Takes one to know one, as you Americans say."
"I am not an American," I state firmly.
"Not anymore," I say as I tromp the gas pedal and pop off the clutch.
Now that I'm mobile, it's time to get something very special. Soon, a few cities away, the real prize will be waiting.
But for now, Amsterdam, here I come!