The American Prince 11: Freedom - Or Is It?

“Quite a show you guys put on down there,” the man said with a wide grin. “Too bad you never considered that there might be someone watching. Now Steve, if you will just do me a favor and take the handcuffs you see there on the table, and put them on our hero, we’ll get you boys safely downstairs again.”

Steve didn’t move.

“Ok, Stevie boy,” the man said with a sigh, his grin fading, “I see I’m gonna have to explain things to you. You see you have a choice. You can put the cuffs on him and help him back downstairs, or you can stand there and get all splattered with blood and guts when I blow his fuckin’ head off. I hate that because he’s worth a lot of money, but there are lots of other boys out there with cute butts. So what’s it gonna be, Stevie boy?”

“I... I’ll put the handcuffs on him,” Steve replied, his voice breaking.
“It’s ok, Steve,” Colin said, trying his best to communicate reassurance. “Just put them on.”
“That’s better,” the man said. “I dunno how mad Mark’s gonna be when we get him off that table, but I don’t think it’s gonna be very pretty. Now let’s get your collar fixed up, hero boy, so we can get you all back downstairs. Turn around!”

Colin turned his back to the man with the gun as he produced a small device that looked a lot like a leather punch of some sort. He fumbled with the back of Colin’s collar, there was a clicking sound, and the collar fell open. “Takes a lot of work to make these things,” he muttered as he opened a cabinet and retrieved another collar. “I didn’t appreciate you burning it out like that, but you’ll get a chance to redeem yourself by testing this one for us when we get downstairs.” He reached his hands over Colin’s head and lowered the open collar around his neck, and Colin saw his chance. He also saw red as his disappointment turned into pure rage. He snapped his head back sharply, striking the man hard on the chin. Before he had a chance to recover, Colin whirled around and placed a high kick to the hand holding the gun. It went off, shattering one of the video monitors, and Colin kicked again and the gun went flying. Another foot flew into the stunned man’s crotch, and he doubled over in agony just in time to catch a forth kick to the bridge of his nose. Steve and Gary were both on him then, kicking and punching until the man was begging for mercy. “One of the requirements for my Black Belt test was to be able to defend myself with my hands restrained,” Colin said with a grin.

After the action had died down, Colin realized that his crotch was on fire with searing pain. He had felt a ripping sensation every time he’d thrown a kick, but the adrenalin was flowing so hard and fast he’d been able to ignore it, until now. There was blood everywhere as one broken nose bled profusely and Colin’s crotch spewed blood down his bare legs. Gary dug in the man’s pockets and found a key to the cuffs which he removed and placed on their victim’s wrists, then he and Steve used the tiny key to remove their collars, placing one of them on the gunman’s neck and saving another for the good doctor, still restrained downstairs. “Can you guys take this guy downstairs by yourselves?” Colin asked. “I gotta sit down and try to get this bleeding stopped.”
“Yeah, no problem, Colin,” Steve said. “I got some unfinished business with Dr. Mark and one o’ his scalpels anyway. I’m gonna cut off his package and leave him there to bleed to death.”
“Don’t kill him,” Colin cautioned. “We don’t wanna get outta this mess just so we can go to jail.”
“But, after all he’s done...”
“Don’t matter, murder’s murder! But I got an idea. See what ya think of this.”

Colin sat in a chair, holding as much pressure as he could on his crotch. He watched on the monitor as his friends got their moaning captive down to the basement and used another pair of handcuffs to chain his feet to a post. Steve placed the collar that had been on his neck around Mark’s and snapped it into place. He then went into the small work room and emerged carrying two hammers. “You’re never gonna do surgery again, you son-of-a-bitch!” he said. He placed the head of one hammer under the fingers on Mark’s right hand, then brought the other hammer crashing down on them, smashing them. Mark screamed as his mashed fingers began spurting blood. Steve went around to the other hand and did the same thing. Mark was whimpering softly as Gary worked at his belt, unfastening it and pulling the man’s pants away from his groin.

Steve found the elastrator and slipped one band around Mark’s penis, then a second and a third. Mark was screaming bloody murder as the bands snapped in place. “I’m not gonna take your balls,” Steve said quietly. “You’ll still have lots of sex drive, but ya just won’t be able to do anything about it. We’re gonna give you a shot to put you to sleep, then we’re gonna put your pants back on so if they find you in time to save your life, they won’t know your cock is banded till it’s too late and they’ll have to cut it off anyway. Have a great life, Dr. Mark!”

Colin got up and went to Mark’s computer to see what he could learn. The first thing he noticed was the date. It was November 11. He had been in the basement of this house almost two months. Two months gone out of his life, and there was no way he would ever get it back. Now he was really angry, but that was nothing compared to what he felt when he began reading Mark’s emails. With one hand holding his crotch, Colin used the other to surf around through Mark’s logs. Mark was a very organized man, and had very kindly filed all his correspondence in various folders, categorized by subject and correspondent.

From the notes that had been exchanged with Rahim, it was obvious that Mark had provided the man with at least seven boys over the past two years. It was also obvious that those boys’ fate when Rahim had tired of them wasn’t nearly as pleasant as they had been led to believe. Rahim had stated on more than one occasion that it was just too risky to allow them to just walk away, so he had either kept them as slaves to look after the harem or simply disposed of them. Getting another idea now, Colin started the printer. He would print a few key emails and leave the appropriate folder open so investigators could see the rest.

Opening a few more folders, Colin saw that Mark had developed his own surgical technique for emasculating boys. He was very proud of his product, which produced boys who were incapable of performing sex acts themselves, but their sensitivity in the groin area was very high, with the result that they almost always responded well to any who wanted to have his way with them. He learned that Mark had been financially rather strapped until he’d acquired Colin and his friends. Rahim had sent him a five million dollar retainer in cash, which Colin found in a desk drawer. He knew that Mark could hire the best attorneys with that kind of money and just might get off, so he threw the entire lot of it in the fireplace, minus a few thousand he and his brothers might need to live on, and turned on the gas logs.

When Steve and Gary reappeared, Steve was carrying the little boy who was still sound asleep. Gary gave Colin one of the disposable diapers he’d been given and Colin gratefully put it on so he wouldn’t bleed all over the light tan pants he planned to wear. They all got dressed while the printer droned away, then they poured some coffee they found into their new little friend in an attempt to wake him, and they got ready to make their escape. “Can you drive a car?” Steve asked Colin.
“Not good enough to drive out of here,” Colin replied. “I don’t wanna kill us all, after all we’ve been through.”
“So how we gonna get away?” Steve asked.
“We’ll have to walk,” Colin said. “It’ll probably be daylight soon, and I wanna be far away from here by then.”
“But you’re bleeding!” Steve protested.
“I’ll be ok I think. It seems to have slowed down now, and that diaper acts kinda like a bandage and keeps a little pressure on it. I think it’ll be ok.”

Just as they were leaving the house, Steve having to carry the little boy because he was still too groggy to walk on his own, Colin dialed 911 and reported a domestic disturbance in the house. When they asked the address he hung up, knowing that they could trace the call but it would take a while. It had already been over an hour since they’d banded Mark, so they were pretty sure that it would be at least another hour before they got the bands off, and by that time the damage would have been done. Gary had wanted to band the other man too, but they had been content with smashing him in the balls hard enough that they were probably ruined, then smashing his hands as they’d done to Mark.

The three eunuchs walked a little over half a mile, Steve and Colin taking turns carrying their sleeping friend. It was a cold November night, and they could all feel the chill through their thin clothing. When finally they stopped to rest, the little boy began showing signs of revival. The cold air combined with two cups of strong coffee had been effective. He told them that his name was Paul, that he had been in a foster home for almost two years while his mom and dad tried to work out their differences. The constant fighting in his home had resulted in some pretty bad behavior on the part of little Paul, but that was all behind him now. He said his dad had been rather abusive, but he had finally left and his mother wanted him back. He had been on his way back to the foster home from his therapy session when he’d been snatched right off the street. He said Mark had given him a ride several times, but that nothing sexual had ever happened between them so he had no reason to fear or be on his guard.

Colin announced that he had to empty his pee bag, and when he pulled up his pants leg they were all shocked to see that the contents of the bag were a dark red. Mark had been right: Colin was bleeding internally. No problem, he said, it would clot and stop on its own. He still felt fine, he said, though he was a little tired which didn’t surprise anyone under the circumstances. After Colin had emptied his leg bag they set out again, only this time little Paul was walking somewhat unsteadily on his own. Before they’d gone another half mile, Steve and Gary were supporting Colin, who was having a great deal of trouble making it on his own.

“We gotta get you to a doctor,” Steve proclaimed.
“How the hell we gonna do that?” Colin demanded.
“Easy,” Steve said, taking control now that Colin was obviously in no condition to do so. “There’s some bright lights a few blocks up there. I’m bettin’ it’s a major street of some kind, and then we’ll just find a phone and call 9-1-1. You’re gonna bleed to death if we don’t get you some help.”
“It’s not that bad,” Colin defended. “It just looked bad in that full bag of pee, all red like that. I bet there isn’t much blood at all.”
“Then why the hell is your whole crotch wet?” Steve countered. “You’ve bled enough to soak that diaper you’re wearin’ and now it’s leaking all down your front!”

Somewhat shocked, Colin looked down and realized that Steve was right. He was indeed bleeding badly, and dressed as lightly as they all were he knew that he was doubly in danger of hypothermia. “You guys leave me an’ I’ll get to a phone,” he suggested. “If you’re all there the police are gonna ask some pretty serious questions, especially when they find out why I’m bleeding.”
“We’re not leavin’ ya,” Steve and Gary chorused. “You got us outta that house and we’re not gonna leave ya now till we’re sure you’re ok,” Steve added.
“I didn’t get us out,” Colin argued. “We all did our part. We’re quite a team though, don’t ya think?”
“Yeah,” Gary said with a giggle. “You shoulda seen the look on that guy’s face when you kicked that gun outta his hand, and you in handcuffs! Man, I’m gonna get me a black belt if I can learn to fight like that!”
“I didn’t get that belt so I could fight,” Colin lectured as they walked slowly along. “I never thought I’d ever use it for anything but tournaments. I guess that just goes to show, ya never know.”
“I know I’m glad you’re on our side,” Steve said. “That’s all the more reason we’re not leaving you. We’re in this together and we’ll go down together if that’s what’s in the cards.”

The boys walked almost another mile before they finally came to an all night convenience store. By this time Colin could hardly drag one foot in front of the other, and he was developing a lethargic attitude that he knew was a very bad sign, one that could be the symptom of hypothermia or excessive blood loss, or both. But that very same lethargy meant that Colin didn’t care. He simply didn’t care if he lived or died. Steve’s heart sank when he could see no pay phone outside as there often is at this type of store. He couldn’t see anyone inside except the night clerk, so at least that was one good sign. “Let’s get Colin into the bright lights so that guy can see him, then you wait with him and Paul and I’ll take care of it,” Gary said. It seemed that each one in the group had a contribution to make, and now it was Gary’s turn.

“Sir, I wonder if you could kindly help us,” Gary said to the man behind the counter. He was using his very best, weakest, highest voice, trying to make himself appear as small and helpless, and therefore harmless, as he possibly could.
“What in the world...” the man said as he looked at the small form in the doorway, then saw the gathering in the parking lot.
“It’s our friend,” Gary said, starting to cry. “He’s hurt real bad! Could you please call an ambulance?”
“What happened to him?” the man wanted to know.
“He’s... he’s bleeding real bad, sir,” Gary insisted. “Please, just call an ambulance, or the police or someone. Please?” Then without waiting for a response he was out the door again, running to Colin to help lay him down gently on the asphalt surface of the parking lot. He’s a born actor, Steve thought to himself as he and Gary made a big show of laying their exhausted friend on his back.

It took the ambulance over half an hour to show up, followed by two police cars. The rattled clerk, not being used to such incidents because this was a much quieter than normal neighborhood, had reported simply “boy covered in blood, probably from a gunshot wound, and three other boys with him.” The cops, expecting some sort of a riot or shootout, emerged from their patrol cars with guns drawn. The clerk had helped the boys get Colin into the warmth of the store, which might very well have saved the bleeding eunuch’s life, at least for the time being. He was becoming incoherent by the time the paramedics got him into the ambulance. “You three come with me in the car,” one of the cops ordered. “You can tell me what happened on the way to the hospital.”

The cop was treated to a story so fantastic that he had to wonder if they were making it all up. But when they saw they weren’t being believed, Steve and Gary convinced him to stop the car, whereupon they both dropped their pants and underpants. There they were, in all their glory, except there was no glory. None at all! Gary even had a catheter tube emerging from between his legs, but that was all the evidence that either one of them had ever had anything between their legs. The little one, Paul, didn’t seem to know much about what was going on; but the other two could explain that too. He had been brought in, they said, drugged to a comatose state, and he would have been a eunuch by now too had it not been for the escape brought about by little Paul’s sudden appearance.

“Holy Christ,” the ER resident exclaimed, “this kid’s bleeding like a stuck pig! And... his genitals... they’re gone! Completely gone!” He wasted no time getting a blood sample, then ordered six pints of blood and got a transfusion going, STAT! The immediate emergency dealt with, he attempted to get some information. He knew this kid’s parents would want to be there before their son died. “Son, can you hear me?” he said in Colin’s ear. “We’re trying to help you here, but we need your parents to sign a consent. Can you tell me your name?”

“Jeremy...” Colin gasped.
“Your name is Jeremy? Jeremy what?”
“Call Jeremy... Keep Rahim away! Don’t let Rahim get Paul... Call Jeremy...”
“Son, we need your parents. What’s your name, son? How do I get in touch with your parents?”
“Call Jeremy... Jeremy... unhhh Jeremy Thompson... Keep Rahim away from Paul...”

“Any luck?” the ER secretary asked.
“I dunno,” the resident said. “I don’t think so. He was delirious, and now he’s out altogether. He kept babbling about keeping Rahim away from Paul, and some guy named Jeremy Thompson.”
“You think that’s his name? Jeremy Thompson?”
“I dunno, but I don’t think so. He kept saying to call Jeremy Thompson. I think it was just so much random babbling... probably a best friend or something. I gotta get him stabilized, and then up to the OR. He’s all on fire with fever, and he’s lost so much blood I’m astonished that he’s even alive!”

“Jeremy Thompson?” a voice came from the waiting room. “Did someone say they are looking for Jeremy Thompson?” The cop that had brought the other three boys in came up to the desk.
“Well, yeah,” the resident said. “That kid that came in the ambulance... he’s been asking for someone named Jeremy Thompson. That’s about the only sensible thing we’ve been able to get out of him. You know him?”
“Yeah, I know him,” the cop said. “He’s a child psychologist. He works with homeless kids downtown. I’ll call him and send a squad car for him. Sounds like maybe he’s been working with that kid, so I suggest you do everything you can to save him. Jeremy can be a real tiger if ya rile him.”

It was three days later when Colin opened his eyes. He couldn’t focus at first, but when he did he found himself looking once more into the beautiful little boy face of Paul. “Hi!” Paul said with a wide grin. “Man, am I glad to see you awake! They told us you weren’t gonna make it, but I told them they don’t know Colin like I know Colin. Thanks, man, I couldn’t bear to live if anything happened to you.” To the astonishment of Colin, to say nothing of everyone else in the room, the little boy started to cry.

“It’s ok, Paul,” Colin said as his hands went weakly around the boy’s little body. “You’re safe now. We’re not gonna let anyone get ya, ever again!”

“Hi, Champ,” Wallace Frank said as someone lifted the weeping boy off Colin’s chest. “You gave us all a hell of a scare!”
“Dad?” Colin said, shock and fear showing all over his face.
“I called him, Colin,” Jeremy Thompson said. “I’m sorry, I know I broke a promise, but we thought there was a good chance you were gonna die, man! I couldn’t let you die and not tell your father. I just...”
“It’s ok, Jeremy,” Colin said. “It don’t matter any more...” Before anyone had a chance to ask or to figure out what that comment was supposed to mean, Colin was out again and they were all being shooed out of the room so he could rest.

Jeremy and Wallace were accosted in the waiting room by Steve and Gary, demanding to know if Colin was ok, when could they see him, when would he be up and around, and on and on while Jeremy tried his best to respond to the questions in some sort of an orderly manner. It was no use though. It had been like this ever since Jeremy had convinced the cops to leave all three boys in his custody while they tried to sort everything out. None of the boys would leave the hospital, so sleeping accommodations were not a problem. So for the fifth time Jeremy got everyone calmed down, and they settled in for the night in the small hospital waiting room.

“Good morning, hero!” Jeremy said when Colin opened his eyes again. “Feeling better this morning?”
“Yeah, I feel good enough to get up,” Colin said when he recognized his friend.
“Doctor says you’re getting better faster than he ever would have thought,” Jeremy told him. “Actually the doc told me it’s a miracle you’re alive at all, but there’ll be no getting out of bed for another couple of days. That was a really good thing you did, Colin.”
“Me? Hero? I didn’t do anything, just tried to save my ass.”
“Your friends all say differently, Colin. And the tapes I saw showing what went on in that house confirm what they say. According to the boys, you are only one notch below Sainthood.”
“We were all in it together,” Colin said. “It never woulda worked if we all hadn’t done our part.”
“Be that as it may, you’ve got three pretty strong admirers. They have absolutely refused to leave the hospital until they know for sure you’re ok.”
“They’re here? Now?”
“They’re in the waiting room, where they’ve been ever since they brought you in here.”
“Can I see ‘em?”
“Sure! But first, the police want to talk to you. They have a few questions for you, and I told them they could not talk to you unless your father or I were here. Can I ask them in now?”
“I... I guess so.”

The cop was a plainclothesman who introduced himself as Lt. Simmons. He seemed pleasant enough, beginning the conversation by repeating what Jeremy had just told Colin, that according to his friends and the tapes, which were now evidence, he was a hero! “You’ve got some pretty great moves, son,” he said. “Considering that you were very obviously in a great deal of pain, you still had no problems putting those two away. I’d be proud to have you on the force someday, if you’re so inclined.”
“I think I’ve had all that sort of thing I need for a long time,” Colin said with a sheepish grin.

“I really don’t have to ask much,” the cop said. “It’s pretty well documented on tape, and on the printouts you left for us. Steve and Gary told us that they’d been told after their period of slavery was over, that they’d be rewarded by living a pretty good life in some cushy job working for that Rahim guy, is that right?”
“Yes, sir, but I was pretty sure that was bullshit.”
“You were right, son. We dug into that computer of his, which he kindly filled with all the evidence we’ll ever need. The truth is the slaves are all eventually graduated into a very slow and agonizing torture resulting in their deaths. This Rahim is one sick puppy!”
“I don’t suppose you can touch him, huh?”
“Well, actually we can. We have not let on any of this has happened. One of our undercover detectives has been exchanging email with Rahim, and has duped him into coming over to pick you guys up in person. He will be here in another three weeks. As soon as he steps off that plane, we’re gonna arrest him.”
“And what about Mark and his goon?”

“Funny thing about that,” the cop reflected. “We didn’t find him right away when we got to the house. When we did find him he was almost dead from blood loss. It seems that somehow while he was struggling to get free, he jammed his hands and really messed them up. Also the game he was playing with his assistant kinda backfired. He laid there on that table for several hours with some really tight elastic bands on his penis, and it had to be amputated. It’s too bad, but he should never have done that to himself and not told anyone!”
“But... that should all be on tape... I mean, what happened to his hands and all...”
“Funny thing about that too,” the cop said with a chuckle. “We were watching that tape, showing you boys taking control. But there was a bad spot on the tape... several in fact, and we missed a lot. Actually the assistant’s hands were so mangled one had to be amputated, and his balls were so smashed they had to come off too, and there were no tapes showing all that. Your friends said they didn’t know anything about all that. I don’t suppose you do?”
“I’m afraid not,” Colin answered, realizing immediately what was happening.

Of course Lt. Simmons wasn’t manipulating the evidence just for something to do; he needed a favor from the boys. He wanted them to put in an appearance at the small landing strip where Rahim was to land, just to make the scene look more innocent. “We’ll keep you in the car until Rahim is on the ground,” he said. “It’s gonna be a little tight with the good Dr. Mark behind bars and unavailable, but if this guy is nearly as sick as we think he is, the sight of his three new boys will be enough to draw him off the plane. You will never be in any danger, really. We’ll have enough fire power to take over Fort Knox, and once the plane comes to a stop and shuts down, it will be blocked so it won’t be able to take off. Your father isn’t real anxious to let you get involved, but he says it’s got to be your decision.”
“If it means nailing that boy killer, it’s a no-brainer,” Colin said. “Of course I’ll do it!”

The cop thanked Colin and left, saying he’d be in touch with all the details. Jeremy called Wallace Frank into the room. “Are you sure you want to do this, Colin?” his father asked. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”
“Don’t matter if I want to or not,” Colin said. “I don’t see where I have any choice. We’ve gotta get this guy!”
“Well, you should be able to travel in another week or so. We’ll get you home where you can rest up, and then we’ll see how you feel before we make any final choices.”
“Home? To Jacksonville?”
“Of course! Where else?”
“I don’t know, Dad. But I can’t go home with you.”

There was a long pregnant pause in the conversation. Wallace looked at his son in a way Colin had never seen before. Could that possibly be hurt on his face? Devastation perhaps? Or was it just that he had been defied again, and he wasn’t used to that. Wallace Frank was accustomed to people bowing and scraping before him, jumping to his every whim; but Colin had his own agenda now and was not going to be intimidated by anyone. “Colin, you know I can make you come home with me,” Wallace said.
“And how are ya gonna keep me there, Dad? Are you gonna lock me up, maybe put an electronic collar on me so I get zapped if I try to leave? Someone already tried that, and it didn’t work.”
“I was hoping you’d want to come home.”
“So what if I do? I have obligations now. I have a family! They need me and I need them.”
“I need you too, Colin. I need you to be my son. I love you, Colin!”
“Yeah,” Colin said bitterly. “You love me so much you fucked up my chances for the Olympic team; you loved me so much you were willing to send me away to school to get me outta your hair so you could traipse around making more money. And now that I’m a eunuch you’re gonna love me even more, right? Right!”

“Now that you’re a what?”

To be continued...