***Plenty of extreme stuff in this one, I don’t really want to bother listing it. Just consider yourself warned. Check the tags if you’re curious.***
Mitch didn’t know what they were doing to him, the men who’d grabbed him as soon as he’d stepped into the warehouse, throwing a bag over his head and dragging him away, kicking and shouting, but he’d come alone, like the message had said–he hadn’t exactly had much of a choice. But still, he was the god-damn chief of police, and he should have known that this was a trap. The men stripped him down suddenly, cutting the clothes off of him before fastening heavy iron shackles around his wrists and ankles, and shoving him up some stairs and ripping the hood away as they did, but before he could turn around, they’d shut a door, trapping him in a small glass box, barely larger than a coffin, with a bright light in the top casting a harsh light down on his pudgy, old body.
He threw himself at the glass walls, but they weren’t glass at all–just very hard plastic–and even if it had been breakable, he would never have been able to build up the momentum to break it. Instead, he directed his attention to his surroundings, and saw that his wasn’t the only box in the room–there were four others. One was still empty, but in the other three, he saw other men whom he recognized. Sam Raymond, the mayor. Rudy Garrison and Jack Duggery, both members of the city council. He turned to the empty box and saw two men clad in leather police officers disrobing another hooded figure and pushing him into the last box, and he saw Peter McJenson, one of the city’s judges. And him, Mitch Lundon–the chief of police.
“Well well, I see that you all came as I requested,” a voice said, and a small, but beefy figure came out of the darkness, rubbing his gloved hands together, looking at the five men locked in their respective boxes, Amazing how all of you jump when the teats you’ve all been sucking at our threatened.”
The kidnappings, Mitch thought. He’d done his best to keep them under wrap. Five of the most prominent businessmen had been kidnapped two days ago, and the bandit–the man addressing them now, he assumed, had claimed responsibility. Mitch had been furious, to say the least–after nearly a year of no activity, the man he’s sworn to hunt down, after robbing ten banks in half as many months, and costing him twenty of his best detectives, had struck again, and right at the heart of the city’s business community.
The bandit–he was practically legend at this point, a modern robin hood, stealing from the rich and passing on the wealth to the poor faster than the rich could scoop it all back up. The bandit who’d made no attempt to hide his activity or his face, but was still utterly anonymous to him and every other law enforcement body in the country. The bandit who’d…changed every officer who’d ever pursued him. Mitch recognized a few of them now, actually, as some of his most trusted officers just a year ago, before they’d all had their own run-ins with the bandit. In fact, these were the one’s who’d gotten off lucky–others had had their heads so twisted that…well…the sights hadn’t been pretty. And now, seeing what the bandit had managed, well…Mitch was scared to death. He’d only been thinking of himself, when he’d gotten the message from the bandit, telling him to come here, alone, or he’d air out the fact that Mitch had been lining his pockets with personal bribes from every one of the business men that had been kidnapped–apparently the other four had received similar threats.
“So,” the bandit continued, “I suppose you’re all wondering why I asked you all here, and what this has to do with the five upstanding businessmen who agreed to come stay with me for the past couple of days. Yes, I know you thought they had been kidnapped, but I assure you that they all came of their own free will. And now, I’ve invited them all here for a small, private charity auction. Shall I introduce you to them now? How about we bring Ronald out here first.”
The five men all knew him when he came out, Ronald Stein, one of the biggest real estate developers in the city. He was older, but had always tried to look young, but he came out looking absolutely disgusting, clad in a wife beater and boxers, his toupee gone revealing his greying horseshoe of hair. “Say hello to Ronald everyone. In addition to the sweetheart development deals many of you helped him get, Ronald here has also been secretly spying on many of his own tenets. But we’ve helped you out with that, haven’t we Ronald?”
“Oh yes sir,” Ronald said, “I’m not going to spy on anyone anymore, now I just want to watch men strip for me.”
“That’s true–you are quite the voyeur. Now, who’s next? Morgan, come out here.”
Morgan Pullman, the CEO of one of the city’s largest banks, emerged looking very different from his usual self. He’d packed on muscle, for one thing–lots of muscle. And instead of his usual suit, he was wearing leather chaps and a harness, with a whip and paddle hanging from his waist. “Morgan here thought that poor people ought to suffer, but he knows better now, right Morgan?”
“Oh yeah, Mr. Bandit,” the muscular man said, “The real men who need to suffer are corrupt government officials, and goodness, am I going to work them over good…”
“I’m sure you will. Now, Berlin, come here my boy.”
Berlin Hamilton was the son of one of the richest men in the world, and had proceeded to do absolutely nothing with the fame and fortune he’d received. At twenty-five, he’d had plenty of time to waste, but not anymore. He emerged triple his previous age–seventy-five–and hobbled over to the bandit. “I suppose youth is wasted on the young, eh?”
“Oh yes, but the younger the better,” Berlin said, shooting the men in their cases a lecherous glance, before shuffling over to join the other two.
“Younger indeed. Now, who’s left…Madison for one, come out here.
Madison Benoit, the investment broker whom the judge in the room had let off scot free on a technicality, after losing millions for his customers in the stock market crash, had a second, darker side that the five men knew about–he was a white supremacist. He’d done a good job hiding it behind his social darwinism and southern roots before, but when he walked out, that wasn’t going to fly any longer, looking like a roided up skinhead, swastikas tattooed on his neck and permanently bald head, wearing bleached jeans, doc martins and a cruel scowl. “No need to hide those feelings anymore, eh, Madison?”
“Fuck no, mate,” Madison said, “Now you promised me a slave, when ‘em I gettin’ my own personal nigger?”
“Soon enough, just be patient–we have one more man to introduce after all. Roger Merdon, our final bidder, everyone.”
Roger Merdon was the wealthiest media magnate in the city, but the obese slob clad in nothing but overalls who stumbled out, apparently drunk, bore almost no resemblance to the smartly dressed man he’d been before. The bandit caught the man as he stumbled, and helped him over to the rest of the group. “Well, I guess he’s just as filthy now as the shit he has his ‘news’ channels shoot out every day, right?” Roger gave a healthy laugh, followed by a long belch, and joined his fellows, Roger walking up to the glass cases.
“What’s this all about, Bandit?” the mayor asked.
“Yeah, you’re never going to get away with this,” Mitch added.
Oh, now this is a silent auction, gentleman, so no comments from the peanut gallery until after the bidding is complete. Now, gentlemen,” the bandit said, directing his attention back to his group of twisted magnates, “You all remember how this works, right? There’s a minimum bid on all these men of…let’s say, fifty million dollars? Just make your bid on each man, and the top bidder on each will get his prize. If you win on two, you only get the one you bid the most on. Still, you’re used to paying for government officials, so I’m sure this will come perfectly natural to all of you. However, I urge you all to be generous, because the person with the lowest bid…well, let’s just say they’ll regret having been so stingy, eh? Now, let’s say, fifteen minutes to place your bids? Starting…now! And remember–silence please, from everyone.”
Apparently, when the bandit said silence, he meant silence. The room was quiet, aside from the occasional hmm or haa from the five bidders, as the men in the cases desperately tried to get their old friends to let them out and escape–but the bandit had apparently been working them over for too long for them to feel any sympathy. Finally, the five of them finished their bids as the clock ran down, and the bandit took a moment to examine the results.
“Alright, it looks like we have our pairings. So, shall we go from highest to lowest? And goodness, what a high bid–I’m impressed. With a winning bid of five hundred million dollars, we have Berlin Hamilton who has purchased the mayor of our fine city as his personal bitch.
The old man grinned, one hand going down and rubbing his cock through his suit pants, as two leather clad officers opened the glass case and dragged the still shackled mayor over to the bandit. “Now now, quit fighting it–you had no problem with these men buying you before, after all. Now, as far as Berlin is concerned, you’re quite simply far too old for him at the moment–he likes his men much younger now. But don’t worry, at eighteen, everything you two will be doing together will be plenty legal.”
As they all watched, the mayor, who’d been in his mid fifties, started regressing rapidly, until he was in his late teens, but his body was so slender and underdeveloped that he probably could have passed as someone younger. Berlin’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw his new toy, and he let out a groan.
“Oh, he’s so beautiful, thank you bandit.”
“Oh, I’m not done yet–I know what you like,” the bandit said, and pulled the slender mayor closer, who was still trying to grapple with his own transformation. “Now, Sammy, I have a few things to tell you. You see, your last name isn’t Raymond anymore–It’s Hamilton, and that nasty old man over there is your grandfather, the grandfather whom you want to use you as a sexual toy for the rest of your life. Now, you know what your grandfather likes? He likes little boys, right? So you’re going to have to pretend to be even littler, alright?”
Sammy nodded quickly, falling into his new character, as a tight fitting pokemon shirt appeared on his torso, and around his waist appeared a diaper. He started sucking his thumb, and waddled over to his lecherous grandfather, kissing his deeply, the bandit leaving them to their new roleplay.
“Now, who’s next? Our second largest bid was not nearly so large–just two hundred million, though not a sum to be laughed at. Ronald Stein, please come collect your new toy, Councilman Jack Duggery.” The underwear clad real estate developer smirked, as the officers pulled Jack from his case, and pulled his down to where the bandit stood. “Now, Ronald, what’s your favorite type of man?”
“Oh, I like looking at them all, trust me, but I do love those muscular strippers at all the bars. Just, make him manly–no real twinks, and no body builders either, just, lean and handsome and an unabashed exhibitionist. Oh, and a real big dick.”
“You heard the man,” the bandit said,and Jack felt his body start to contort and grow, packing on muscle, his fat melting away until he could have graced the cover of a muscle magazine, a light treasure trail running up his chest. A short beard covered his chiseled jawline now, and something…a beat inside him…he felt his hips start gyrating, as a pair of extremely tight cut off shorts barely able to contain his nine inch cock appeared around his waist. He looked up and saw Ronald staring at him, and the old man made him feel so dirty, but so horny at the same time, he started grinding his body up against him, making out with him, hungry for his attention and praise, leaving the bandit to tally the next winning bid. “Oh, this is a good one,” the bandit said, “With a bid of 175 million, Madison Benoit has purchased as his new slave the honorable judge Peter McJenson!”
The skinhead stepped forward, and the officers dragged the screaming and struggling judge out of his box and out to the bandit. “No! No please, please don’t do this, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”
“Oh, I sense your sincerity, but alas, it is too late for apologies, I think,” the bandit said, “Still, considering how many young black men you put behind bars, I think your new color will suit you just fine.” The judge whimpered, and looked down at himself, as his skin began to darken to a near pitch black, and he fell to his knees where he continued to beg and plead and grovel, until Madison delivered a firm kick right into the judge’s mouth.
“Fuckin’ niggers. Get rid of that tongue–I don’t ever want to hear another word out of it’s mouth. And it’s balls too. And make it dumb as shit–I don’t need it thinking about questioning my orders. And bigger, a real beast of burden for me and my mates that can take plenty of abuse.”
On his knees, the judge started to grow, packing on pound after pound of muscle as he felt his head empty out, and on his knees, looking up at Madison–no, up at Master, all he felt was fear–primal, terrible fear, and he got down, kissing the toes of his boots, silently begging for forgiveness. It was enough to assuage Madison for the moment, and he dragged his slave away by the chain collar it now wore, where he took his new slave’s cherry.
“Goodness, only two left. Let’s see who our last lucky winner is–Roger Merdon, with a bid of 100 million, has purchased Councilman Rudy Genson. Congratulations.”
The officers hauled out the second councilman and hauled him up front, while the filthy redneck waddled up as well. “So, Mr. Merdon, what would you like?”
“Well, I’d sure as hell love someone tah clean me up a bit–think I sharted a bit sittin’ o’er there jus’ now. Yeah, a nice fat piggy willin’ tah get a little dirty, an’ willin’ tah be mah toilet, I think–that’d save me a lot a trips tah the bathroom.”
“Oh fuck no, you can’t be serious, you *grunt* no, please–*snort*” Rudy said, as he started fattening up, topping 400 pounds before he finally stopped growing, and unable to balance on his feet anymore, he fell forward onto his hands and knees, where he smelled it. Something so filthy and nasty and delicious, he snuffled over to his master and nosed at the back of his overalls. It was in there, it was in there and he needed it, when Master dropped the overalls down, revealing his shitty ass crack he let out a squeal of delight and started licking it all clean, his Master moaning in pleasure as he did, the Bandit walking away and over to where Mitch stood, alone, in his glass case.
“So, Mitch Lundon, it looks like you’re the last one. Well, you and Mr. Thrifty over there,” he said, looking at Morgan Pullman in his leather gear. “Get over here Mr. Pullman.” He tried to resist the command, but there was nothing he could do, and so he walked over and joined him. “So, Mr. Cheapskate, you couldn’t even bring yourself to spend over a hundred million?”
“Well, I didn’t expect everyone else to bid so much–I can pay more, if you want, I have–”
“Oh shut up–I told you before, that the least generous among the bidders was going to get…a less than pleasant surprise, didn’t I? But Mr. Lundon, don’t think that I’m letting you off the hook–why don’t the two of you share the same fate? Take him out boys.”
The two cops pulled Mitch out of his case, and two more grabbed Peter before he could try and run. “Now, I’m thinking twins, and I do love the leather. How about a couple of cute cubs, just desperate for a master?”
As Peter and Mitch looked at each other, they saw that they were both transforming in front of their eyes, shrinking to about five and a half feet, and pudging up, their hair shifting to deep red and shortening, full round goatees accentuating the roundness of their faces. When they were perfectly identical, matching leather harnesses and jocks appeared on their bodies, along with two massive dildos shoved up their holes, and both of them looked at the bandit with unbridled lust.
“So, is there anything me and my brother can do for you?” Mitch said, running his hand into the bandit’s pants and massaging his cock.
“Yeah, the two of us have been looking for a big, strapping master like you who can keep all of our holes satisfied,” Peter added coming in close as well.
“Ha, well, I don’t know about keeping you, but I’d be happy to keep you both well plowed tonight,” the bandit said, leading the twin cubs to his room, and leaving the rest of the men to their pleasures, wiring the millions he’d just made from the auction to the charities he’d chosen earlier. They might all have been selfish whores before, but at least now no one would mistake them for what they really were–and if he could help people in the city, then all the better.