Border Wolves

Heed the Dog’s Bark; Beware the Wolf’s Bite

By: Nicholas Hall
(© 2021 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

nhall@tickiestories.us

Chapter 9

“There is a fatality, a feeling so irresistible and inevitable that it has the force of doom, which almost invariably compels human beings to linger around and haunt ghostlike, the spot where some great and marked event has given color to their lifetime; and still the more irresistibly, the darker tinge that saddens it.”

(The Scarlet Letter [5] – Nathanael Hawthorne)

A much different exchange occurred a couple of weeks later well over a thousand miles to the south and west. The exchange was business, strictly, sort of, with money changing hands, for an order placed and now delivered. It was insidious, malevolent, pernicious, life-threatening, and totally illegal and morally wrong! It represented a history by both parties, of human trafficking, the poisonous, deleterious practice ending many times lethally, was evil, and known to foist slavery, prostitution, and sometimes death on those being trafficked.

The purchaser, Lonnie Dahle, now retired from his regular job but still dealing in human trafficking on the side, generally sought young, vulnerable, unaccompanied, and illegal immigrant minors who fetched the highest prices, made for the highest profits, and greatest risk if caught, nodded to the seller, a smuggler, he wanted to check out the merchandise before handing over any money. He was enjoying the financial success through continued contacts he made over the years. His fluency in Spanish greatly assisted him in not only communicating with non-English speakers, but seemed to provide some temporary confidence in him by those who came across the border illegally.

There was always a need and market for workers; gardeners, farm workers, hotel/motel workers, food service people, and others as well. Employers were willing to pay for them and the migrants were seeking employment to send money home to family. There was also the darker side of his business, a side much more profitable and, as a side, more pleasurable for him. There were those who sought and paid premium dollars for young, good looking girls and boys for personal sexual perversions and/or selling them to provide services as prostitutes and actors in films or pictures. The younger they were, the more revenue they could produce and also garner higher prices for Lonnie.

Dahle had buyers for four boys and two girls with one of the boys and one of the girls required to be prepubescent and virgin when delivered. He’d worked the southern border for most of his career. His contacts were many, his knowledge of the area and how things worked was vast and inclusive, and his reservoir of secrets held and favors owed to him was beyond the pale. Lonnie knew the value and timing of a well-placed bribe and who’s palms needed greasing and by how much.

With several hundred minors crossing the border every day and thousands in custody, there was no problem in filling the orders. However, the opportunities to do so were closing rapidly as the entire border and the law enforcement agencies there were under close scrutiny. He wasn’t anxious to go to jail just yet and sure as shit stinks, it was going to be happening before long if he wasn’t careful! No, things were going to get too damned hot to handle as far as he was concerned. The days of high profits were coming to a close. If this trip was successful, both in the sales and what he was looking for in Minnesota, he’d fade from the picture and lie low for the rest of his life. He’d be able to afford it! Of course, he had enough now to do that, but Lonnie Dahle was greedy!

He had ten minors to choose from, two girls and eight boys. The smuggler claimed they were all unaccompanied, crossed the border as such, and were pretty much non-traceable. Lonnie could care less! He suspected most of them had been kidnapped or taken from the streets.

He approached the gathered youngsters, ordered the boys to drop their pants and the girls to lift their skirts. Lonnie fondled, poked, and prodded before sorting out the two young virgins he’d offer for sale. The seller noted they both were taken together and refused to be separated.

“Better you sell them together,” the smuggler advised. “They’re a strange pair. They appear to be about ten years old. I think they’re just what a buyer would want.”

Lonnie looked at them carefully, fingered the girl to check for virginity and manipulated the boy’s balls and cock for prepubescence and agreed. He needed three more boys and one girl to complete his order. He lifted the skirts higher on the girls, pushed the jeans of the boys down as far as they’d go, and with his hands checked out their genital area by fondling, prodding, poking, and gently squeezing their most private of privates, finding a boy and a girl just entering puberty. Perfect! One buyer wanted just that for pleasure and videos. If, according to the seller, the boy was fourteen and the girl was thirteen. Having made his choices, Lonnie decided to “satisfy” his urges before forking over the cash. Only thing is, he decided to take out his lust on those he didn’t choose. He lasted through two boys before calling it quits. The boys complained about being fucked, but he didn’t quit until he dumped his load in each one.

 Satisfied, he counted out the one-hundred-dollar bills requested for payment, plus extra for the recreation. The amount was exorbitant, but would be doubled when he resold them to other individuals ordering these particular types of human being.

He confirmed the ages of the two older ones by asking them. Hesitantly, frightened, they replied and when asked if they’d ever been fucked, they both replied in the negative, eyes big, hope lost, since there was no doubt in their mind what would be happening to them after witnessing what the man did to the others. He asked the same of the other two young boys and they both shook their heads in the negative, although Lonnie had his doubts. He smiled at them, stating very forcefully, “Don’t try to avoid it! The consequences can be very severe. Life can be pretty good if you decide to make it as such!”

“What a bunch of horseshit!” he thought, smirking to himself. “This bunch will be in pictures and films until their usefulness runs out and then be prostituted. Before they are worn out, they’ll be fucked hundreds of times.”

Lonnie marched them into the motorhome and made special mention of his large Doberman Pincer guard dog.

“See that big bastard!” he announced, pointing at the dog. “Try anything funny, try to get away, or hurt me and that mean mother-fucker will tear you apart. Does it at my command as well.,” started the engine and drove off.

 *******

He vowed to have the young passengers, sans the two ten-year-old’s, several times before he delivered them. The two ten-year-old’s, the young girl and boy, reacted stoically when they heard him announce the fate of their companions. When he addressed them, they made no response, only starred at him, no facial reactions or body movements. Looking closely at the two youngsters, he was taken aback and just a bit wary! What he saw in their eyes, cold, dark, and menacing, was a commitment to kill him given the opportunity. Those two, he decided, would be shackled. He was taking no chances with them.

The older two were to be exchanged in Kansas, the two boys were to be exchanged in Omaha, and the other two he’d arranged a meeting in Minnesota for buyers from the Chicago area. There were a couple of things he wanted to check out there and this would serve his purpose. Granted, it was out of the way, but the buyers would meet him in the middle of a forest where no one would expect such a thing to occur. The first two nights on the road, he took the older boy and the older girl several times. They each whimpered in pain when he first penetrated them, but seemed to endure it better each time thereafter.

Age, lack of exercise, and taking in more calories than he was burning, added some girth to his mid-section giving him an overhang, but did little to increase the length or thickness of his erection.

“Better they get used to this size,” he decided as he shot his load inside the girl, “they’ll have a lot longer and thicker stuffed up their pussies in the future.”

He waited a few minutes, stripped the fourteen-year-old boy, stroked him to an erection, and ordered him to fuck the girl. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to continue to fondle the lad, he “helped” him find her young, now dripping, twat. Once the boy got into the rhythm and pleasure of the coitus, the man mounted him, and fucked away!

The other two boys didn’t get away unscathed either. Each of them lost their cherry and had their young asses pummeled several times before being delivered.

The young boy and girl, shackled to each other and a metal ring in the floor of the motorhome, watched, listened, and made note of where and to whom each of their companions were sold. There would be a time for retribution and retrieval!

Lonnie parked the motorhome on the shoulder near the entrance to his destination, a piece of property he hadn’t been near for several years. In the process of unhooking the jeep he towed, Lonnie noticed a pickup truck parked, some half mile away, near a bridge over a stream which flowed near, but not through the property. He assumed it was some fisherman seeking trout.

“Probably some weekender or summer person,” he muttered as he climbed into the jeep. “Won’t hang around long once the bugs start chewing their ass.”

Easing the jeep down the lane, slightly overgrown but not enough to hinder access, until he reached the clearing where the cabin once stood. All that remained now was the concrete slab it once rested on and the charred remains of the cabin. The cabin was destroyed by fire when local law enforcement raided the place seeking illegal drugs and dealers in the drugs. Small particles of yellow police warning tape, lodged in the debris, like yellow birds seeking flight, still flicked about in the wind.

Climbing from the jeep, Lonnie stood, remembering what happened here during the night years before. The raid, planned by local law enforcement and assisted by other agencies, including those of the U. S. Government, was conducted in the early hours of dark morning, and went rather badly. Rather than taking custody of the perps and hence broadening the investigation, all of the occupants of the cabin were killed and burned in the cabin; all except one who died outside the cabin.

Lonnie still smiled to himself, remembering he fired the warning shot to warn his half-brother, John, who maintained the cabin as a gathering and distribution site for the drugs coming into the area. It was here money was gathered and sent on to the “bosses” and where John and some of his cohorts enjoyed “certain pleasures.” The one problem, as far as Lonnie was concerned, concerned John’s death. John wasn’t killed by the cops, he was killed by three naked teenage boys; boys, if Lonnie’s eyes served him correctly in the brightly burning fire, turned into three large wolves. Those three wolves ripped his half-brother to shreds in their vicious attack.

Discovering if his eyes deceived him or not that night was one of his goals; and finding the three boys and killing them. Revenge was his primary goal. Secondarily, he needed to find the metal box John buried containing a substantial amount of cash he’d skimmed from the money coming in for drug deals. John sent him the location when they first discussed stealing money from the drug lords. There were sufficient dollars secreted to allow them both to live well someplace other than the United States. Coupling that with what Lonnie had in cash and off-shore accounts, he’d do quite well for the rest of his life.

Looking around, Lonnie decided the parking area in front of the cabin slab was sound enough to provide a place to park the motorhome. The handpump was still fixed on the old well. Although the water might not be potable, it’d be good enough for toilet flushing and wash water. Once his holding tanks filled, he could pop the top on the old septic tank which once serviced the cabin, run his sewer hose to it, and dump the tanks.

Lonnie left the jeep, walked back up the lane to the road, checked on his two captives, guarded by the Doberman, and slowly drove the motorhome down the lane to the place he wanted to park it. Parked, he climbed out, let the dog run and do its business, while he leveled the motorhome and put the slides out.

Nobody would have a clue, he thought, why I’m here or that he and his now deceased half-brother’s mother’s name was on the deed. Her third husband owned the property and when he died, she became the owner. She was in a nursing home and Lonnie remarked to John one time in a phone call, “She couldn’t find her ass with both hands,” her mind diseased with Alzheimer’s.  He was also certain no one saw him discharge his weapon in a warning shot, most assumed it was an overeager young officer taken up in the excitement of the raid.

His musing was interrupted when the dog, done taking a shit, he noticed, let out a bark and began growling, its nose and face pointed in the direction of the stream.

“Goddammit,” he shouted, “shut the fuck up. It’s only some dumb fisherman.”

******* 

The four teens clambered up the bank of the stream they’d been fishing, pleased with the nice sized trout they kept and with the total number caught and released. They saved only enough for a fish fry later on in the day.

Todd was fairly quiet, more reserved than usual, still somewhat troubled by Gregory’s behavior during the night. His half-brother made a casual suggestion or inference, before bedtime. Clay wanted to fish a specific stream the next day, a stream he’d fished sometime in the past with his grandfather. Todd decided he’d heed Gregory’s suggestion since he was learning, as Gregory grew, to take his suggestions or revelations seriously, which led to his current puzzlement.

During the night, Gregory wandered into Todd’s bedroom and climbed in bed with him. Todd saw immediately Gregory was deep in slumber, but experiencing some sort of dream. As the boy snuggled up against his big brother, he murmured,

“El pez muere por la boca.”

Todd had no idea what the hell Gregory was talking about. It sounded like Spanish, but Todd wasn’t certain since he didn’t take any Spanish in high school. Prewitt and Dusty were fluttering around, agitated and frustrated as well.

“What’s going on?” Todd asked, noticing their behavior.

“We don’t know,” confessed an exasperated Prewitt. “He won’t let us in. How can we help him when he closes his mind to us?”

“What, if anything, new have you two been teaching him?” Todd asked concerned Gregory learned something new and was unable to understand it completely and hence was upset.

“Not much,” responded Dusty, “except how to expand his mind to better use his exceptional powers.”

“Nothing that would hurt him or produce this behavior,” Prewitt added, clearly concerned. “We spent some time consulting with an older, wiser Sorcerer or Wizard out East, but he wouldn’t give us a clue, only say we should be patient and all would be revealed in time.”

“Suspicious old bugger,” Dusty complained. “Don’t hardly even trust a couple of good-looking, hard-working Elf-fairies, even after our Queen specifically made it clear to all we’re the ones assigned to protect and assist him,” nodding his head toward Gregory.

Toward morning Gregory sat up, held Todd’s face between his small hands, looked Todd squarely in the eyes and said, “Free the little ones,” and laid back down, still sound asleep.

Todd arrived at Clay’s early, real early since he hadn’t slept well since Gregory woke him with his pronouncement. He hoped, with an early arrival, he’d catch his boyfriend still in bed and perhaps, just perhaps, he’d be able to convince him to go for a morning ride.

Todd’s cock was already hard as he left his truck and made his way, quietly, into the house and Clay’s bedroom. Clay lay bare-assed naked, face down, on his bed, seemingly sound asleep.

Actually, he wasn’t! Clay’s own cock, if he even moved ever so little, would stab a hole in the mattress beneath him so eager was he have Todd make love to him. Rani gave Clay a “head’s up” warning Todd was on his way into the bedroom so Clay presented a “bottom’s up” teen ass for his welcoming. Clay didn’t dare tell Todd an Elf-fairy warned him of his approach so he had to fake that part. Having Rani around was going to be problematic at some stage in Todd and his relationship, but Clay decided it could wait until some other time. Now, he just wiggled his butt in invitation.

He heard Todd’s shoes clump onto the floor, the swish of Todd’s pants soon followed to rest on top of the shoes, and he felt the bed sag as Todd climbed on. Todd ran his hands down Clay’s back to the center of where he wanted his love stick positioned, slipped between Clay’s thighs, positioned his cock at the wrinkled portal, and leaned forward, sighing,

“How sweet my love is and welcoming is his tunnel of delight,” and began sliding his cock slowly but steadily until he was deeply embedded in Clay’s rectum.  Head leaning up against Clay’s, his arms locked under Clay’s armpits for purchase, belly molded to Clay’s back, Todd began to fuck his boyfriend!

It didn’t take long before Todd flooded Clay with his thick, abundant liquid, roll Clay over, and suck him to fruition as well.

Over coffee, waiting for Derrick and Simon to arrive, Todd asked Clay, “You speak Spanish?”

“Yeah, and French too. We had to take two languages at the Academy. Why?

“I heard the phrase ‘El pez muere por la boca’ and wondered what it meant.”

“Loosely translated it means a fish dies because he opens his mouth.”

“Oh!” Changing the subject, Todd asked Clay where they were going to fish and Clay said there was a stream he and his grandfather used to fish and he wanted to give it a try. Simon and Derrick made no objection when Clay and Todd loaded their gear in Simon’s truck.

The fishing was pretty good and as Gregory admonished Todd the night before, he let the little ones go back to grow bigger. Somehow though, Todd didn’t really feel that’s what Gregory meant. He was still rolling it over in his head when they four of them emerged from the stream near the bridge where the truck was parked. They had enough fish for a fish fry and was in the process of putting their gear away, when Clay happened to look over his shoulder and saw the motorhome pulling a jeep go down a drive some half mile away.

“Wonder who that is?” he asked aloud. “Funny place for a big motorhome.”

The others turned to look, but Todd was the only one who commented.

“Sure is! Nothing back there except a bunch of burn debris from a cabin fire several years ago!”

Derrick furled his eyebrows in thought, voicing his thoughts to the others. “Still mighty strange. Maybe we should check it out! The stream flows not far from it and we wouldn’t be trespassing.”

Clay was up for some adventure but first he iced the trout in an ice chest they brought along before saying, “Let’s go!”

“I think,” Todd advised, “we better stick to the stream bed and be quiet. You never know what kind of nut case might show up.”

He wasn’t too concerned since he was certain Derrick and Simon’s keen sense of smell, hearing, and eyesight would forewarn them of any danger. There were definite advantages of having Lycans for friends! Besides, he could always send Parnell in for a closer look if things got iffy.

Nearing where the motorhome was parked, Simon and Derrick stopped, raised their hands signaling to stop and be quiet. All four heard a dog bark and Clay having the best view of the motorhome, whispered, “It’s that big black and brown Doberman Pincer we saw the other day while fishing, Todd.”

Todd nodded, but silently instructed Parnell to go take a look.

“You always give me the dirty work,” Parnell complained.

“You love it!” Todd grinned back. “Now go find out what’s so important it takes a guard dog to watch over it.”

The four teens stood for a couple of minutes, before Simon signaled they better leave. “Nothing for us to worry about here.”

“Like hell!” snorted Parnell, returning from his inspection flight. Theres two kids, one girl and one boy, chained up in there and they want us to help them. They’ve been kidnapped from someplace in Northern Mexico, not far from the border.”

“We know, Parnell,” Derrick said, “and they’re Lycan pups.”

Parnell didn’t reveal what the two little ones said to him. He’d save that for later when he and Todd were alone. What was said was going to involve Gregory and probably Clay, if Parnell knew Todd, and he did!

To be continued...

Posted: 08/27/2021