The Cellar Ch. 01

The guides had always been wrong. The stories, videos and dark, underground websites had too. There was really no need to be so meticulous about it, in fact, doing so would only hinder the effort.

I had planned it, of course, so why give them that information? Why let them know that I was always one step ahead? No, I wanted this to look messy, I wanted them to think that this was simply random, but there was nothing random about this at all.

I stalked him with my eyes. A handsome chap, with a youthful air of beauty and the awkwardness of his newly found adulthood. He was cute for an eighteen-year-old, something which boys his age could not appreciate. They wanted to be hot, handsome and rugged, and so little Dalton Harris was somewhat embarrassed by his appearance.

He walked with another, taller and more masculine young man. He looked older, and had I not known the kid inside out, I would have assumed it was a brother, but Dalton had no brothers, nor sisters either, nor a mother or a father who gave a damn about him. No, Dalton was the perfect victim.

They parted ways at the entrance to the park, and I watched, more eager still. He crossed the grass, his long soccer jersey covering his shorts so that if one imagined hard enough, they could almost picture him with no pants at all. His knees were dirty from sliding across the muck of a soccer pitch, and I smirked to myself as my mind ran with dirty thoughts about dirty knees.

His messy blonde hair was only long because his father had neglected to either shear it himself, or give him the money to get an actual haircut, in at least a month. When I first found Dalton, he wore a cropped style haircut, unlike other boys his age who opted for the more fashionable styles.

It was beginning to get dark, just as I had expected, and soon I would finally meet him, or he would finally meet me, at least. I quickened my pace, following him along the outside of the gate. My timing would be perfect, of that, there was no doubt.

His sallow skin had become even more golden during the summer, and I longed to get a better look at it. He was modest, opting never to change in front of friends, never to shower with the others after practice, and the times I had followed him to the harbour, he had always kept a towel firmly around his slender waist as he dressed and undressed. I much preferred them like that.

He closed in on the gate, and despite having gone over the plan a thousand times, and preparing for every possible eventuality, my heart still raced.

"Excuse me" I said, and as though I'd dragged him from his own mind, the cute young man turned to me, surprised.

"My name is detective Alex Lewis, I'm with the St. John's Police Department, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

As I spoke, I flashed a badge and stuffed it back into my pocket just as fast. He wouldn't ask to see it again.

"Uh... Sure" he shrugged, but his eyes showed his nervousness.

Like most boys, the police intimidated him, and that was exactly what I needed.

"You're aware of the incident involving a break in over the weekend?" I asked, holding a notebook that I had no intentions of using.

"Um... No, sorry" he mumbled, and I peered down at him.

He was shorter than average, but despite his father's neglect, he had a healthy build. It had taken me a long time to find a boy that ticked all my boxes, so this was my only chance.

"No?" I scoffed "I find that hard to believe I'm afraid. What's your name, son?"

"Dalton" he answered sheepishly "Dalton Harris"

"How old are you Dalton?"

"E... Eighteen, sir"

"Where were you on Saturday night at around midnight?" I pressed, enjoying the sight of the cute youngster squirming before me.

"In... In bed" he told me truthfully "I... I swear".

"And you'll have witnesses to that I assume, brothers, sisters?"

"J... Just my dad" he said, his face etched with anxiousness.

"I see, and dad would be able to confirm that then? He wasn't out, or drinking, or anything?"

"N... Well... He drinks a bit... But he could confirm it I bet, he'll remember"

"We can't just believe a drunk man, son, can we?"

Dalton was becoming increasingly worried as his options began to dwindle. I however, was beginning to get an erection.

"I'm going to have to bring you down to the station, unfortunately" I told him and his bottom lip began to quiver.

"But... But I need to go home" he groaned "my dad... He'll... He won't be happy".

"I'll deal with your father" I told the boy, and placed my hand on the back of his shoulder, walking him toward my parked car.

It was the first of many touches, but the first one always felt special. I could feel him tremble as he walked, his slender shoulders vibrating under my large hand, until we reached it.

"Put your hands behind your back for me, please" I said sternly, gauging his reaction.

His eyes began to well as he looked up at me pleadingly.

"Am... Am I being arrested?" The words almost caught in his throat as he said them, and a single tear dripped down his flawless, blood filled cheek.

"Not yet" I said, not wanting to completely put him at ease "as long as you comply with my orders, now put your hands behind your back".

He fretted, but slowly obeyed, something he would soon become very used to doing. I pulled out the steel handcuffs, a gift I had received many years prior, and clasped them onto each of his wrists.

"Watch your head" I told him, guiding him into the car and fastening his seatbelt, a little too tight.

I stood back up and closed the door, checking my surroundings carefully for any sign of witnesses. There were two people in the park, but they were too preoccupied with each other to have even noticed Dalton, let alone me.

I got in the car and drove, keeping a close eye on the sobbing teenager in the back through my rear view mirror. God, he was beautiful.

"Can I... Can I call my dad?" He sniffled, trying to rub his nose against his shoulder.

"You'll be able to speak to him when we get to the station" I lied, and continued the journey in silence.

Naturally, I wasn't taking him to a police station. I drove from the outskirts of the city, deep into the suburbs and further again, I could see his face becoming more concerned by the second.

It was dark by the time I pulled the car over at the side of a disused road.

"Just need to get my hat" I smiled through the mirror "can't enter the station without it, you see?"

Dalton nodded, though I could barely make him out in the darkness as I stepped from the vehicle and opened the trunk. I'd only have one shot at doing this properly. I didn't mind a struggle. In fact, I hoped he would be the struggling type, but not here, not now.

I reached forward, finding the strap that I had drilled into the chair, and grabbed the syringe. It would only take seconds, but the more he resisted, the more difficult it would be for both of us.

With one final breath, I yanked the strap and Dalton's chair crashed backwards so he now lay staring up at the roof of the car, the upper half of his body in the trunk.

His eyes widened and as he opened his mouth to either scream or protest, I plunged the syringe into the right side of his neck and dumped the liquid into his bloodstream.

"Ouch!" He yelped, and attempted to drag himself back into the car.

I pulled him back, pushing my weight down on his slender frame as the drug began to work it's magic.

"Get off!" He squealed "get off me right now!"

I cupped my hand over his mouth and turned his screams into muffles. I knew that nobody would accidentally stumble upon us, but unwanted screaming wasn't good for anybody.

Dalton kicked and squirmed for a moment, until finally his pretty little head lolled to the side, and fell backwards. I dragged his entire limp body into the trunk, allowing it to slide into the area that had once been used for the spare wheel, and then covered him over. We weren't far from our destination, so I had little concern.

They always felt so much heavier when they were unconscious, but even then, Dalton weighed very little. I pulled him out of the trunk, throwing him over my shoulder and feeling his head hang against my back. This had been my favourite catch so far.

Even during the summer months, the stairs down to the cellar and the cellar itself was freezing. I could see my own breath as we descended further, but it had to be like this.

It was dark, damp and dismal, just how I wanted it to be. I had found it pointless to try to make the twenty by twenty, concrete dungeon more inviting. Adding a lamp to a torture chamber would only brighten the terror.

The mattress that lay in the corner had been there for nearly nine years. How many young men had lost control of their bladders on it? How many had soiled themselves? How much bodily fluid had the old, torn, battered thing absorbed? Judging by the rancid stench, quite a lot.

I lowered Dalton onto it gently, it would likely be the last time that I handled him with such care. His body flopped and he lay on his back, his thin, tanned arms hanging lifelessly by his sides.

It was time for the first photograph. I stood up, took the Polaroid from the shelf and stood above him. He looked so very peaceful as the room lit up with the flash and began to print the small, square photo.

Leaning down, my heart raced with excitement and my trousers began to tent. I'd been waiting for this for such a very long time.

I untied the laces on his soccer boots before sliding each one off and feeling the heat from the soles of his sweaty feet. His socks had once been white, but by the grubbiness of them, it appeared that it had been a long time since they'd been washed.

I peeled the first one off, slowly exposing his flesh until the boy lay barefoot. I took him by the ankle and lifted his foot to my face, inhaling his scent. My cock twitched as his slightly ripe aroma drifted into my nostrils.

On the upper half of his slim body, I pulled his jersey above his head, and pulled his thin arms out from the bottom. He was painfully stunning in this state, and I couldn't help but run my hand down the centre of his chest and over his firm, smooth stomach.

Each nipple was about the size of a dime, pink and fresh and I leaned down and pressed my lips against one.

It was time for the main event, the moment I had been waiting for since I'd first laid eyes on Dalton Harris.

I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his soccer shorts and slowly lowered them down his smooth legs. He stirred, but he wouldn't wake for another hour at least.

I pulled them from his ankles, and took the camera again. His off-white briefs clung tightly to his crotch. The outline of his penis was visible, and I could see now why the boy had been reluctant to shower with friends.

I snapped a second photo from the same position and returned the camera to the shelf.

Dalton's wrists were attached to thick, heavy cuffs that had been drilled into the concrete wall many years before. There was simply no need to be dramatic by chaining every limb. Even if the skinny little stick of a boy found the super strength to break free from the cast iron cuffs, he had two heavy steel doors to break through and a thirty mile run through the forest before he'd even get close to any form of civilisation.

As I stepped back to admire my work, I realised that I could do anything that I wanted to him now. He was mine, and mine alone. I considered it for a moment. I could rip off his briefs and bury myself deep inside him. I could fuck him until I swarmed his virginal insides with my seed, and fuck him again after that.

But tonight wasn't the time. Tonight would be his last peaceful night, though 'peaceful' was not the feeling that ran through Dalton's body when he awoke two hours later.