He had been watching that operation for a while without even really paying attention at first. Living close by, that new valet service. Some people he vaguely knew that lived nearby talking of missing items or even of being robbed. The look of those valets as they stood by the restaurant, looking a little too eager and, for anyone who knew anything, entirely too tweaked.
Then there was that one he recognised. Vaguely at first, but one night he saw him again at a club, grinding up against some ugly fucker twice his age, eyes blown out. Another tragic youth wasting away for sex and drugs.
Honestly, it seemed almost nice to step in and offer some life advice. A bit of correction.
Anyway, it all led to Barty stopping his car in front of the restaurant. He got out, keys in hands, and shook his head at the first eager valet stepping up to him, gesturing to the other one instead. The twink he'd seen before. "You there. I like the look of you better. What's your name?"
Bill hadn't expected such a nice car to pull up. Yeah, some alright ones came by but it was rare they got one this fucking nice. Usually those rich fuckers went somewhere else but this one? Fuck. Black, sports car, looked like a Tesla and way too expensive and very shiny. Like it was new or something. God, it probably was.
When the guy slipped by Alfie and handed him the keys, Bill was floored for a moment. He held out his hand, swiftly putting a friendly smile on his face. "I'm Bill, sir. Would you like me to park your car? It's a really beautiful one. It's a Tesla, yeah? Christ."
He really wanted to drive it. First time driving a car like that legally.
And yeah, no, the stealing was good too but the car. "I'll take good care of it."
"You're a good driver, Bill?" Barty closed the boy's hand around his car keys, looking into his eyes. It was interesting, seeing them right now, seeing him right now, would make for a nice contrast later. A study of sorts. "Then I'll trust you. One scratch on my car and you'll never see daylight again."
He said it calmly, perhaps a little too calmly, but then he flashed a smile at the end. "Feel free to test out the sound though. Even the screen. Cinematic experience, they say." Whatever that was supposed to mean and why someone would want that in their car, he didn't know. "See you later, my friend."
"Cheers, mate. Nah, I won't scratch her. You enjoy your evening, yeah?" Bill offered, partly excited to drive the car and partly wondering if that bloke wanted to go slumming with him. As the guy walked into the place, he tilted his head and watched through the window as he was led to his table. "That bloke was giving me vibes. Probably a closet case."
Bill tossed the keys up and down and then playfully waggled them at Alfie before he hurried to the car, eager to get inside and look at the controls. "This is the nicest fucking car."
"Come on, mate, lemme in! I wanna ride with." Alfie didn't think they were gonna get anything else near as nice, so he followed behind Bill, eager to be a part of this. "Can you imagine how nice his place must be? Just look at the cut of that suit."
Had to be expensive, something like that. Not that he was much of a fashion expert, but still. It just looked expensive. "You still wanna go rob him or are you gonna wait and see whether he'll shag you?"
"Look, he's hot but he's not worth the haul we could get at his place. You can ride later but I only got an hour or so, let's not fucking waste it." He wanted to just take a long joyride with Alfie but someone had to man the valet desk and he was the only one allowed to use the keys. All official like. So he was doing it. "Look, I'll get to the house and hit you up, okay? If I find anything easy to nick, I'll get it."
Their party money was more important than any shag with some random rich hot guy. Tempting but not worth it. He turned on the radio and fuck, that was some good sound. He looked at Alfie and smirked. "I looked more trust worthy. Ain't that nice?"
"Yeah, sure. Just call me when you get there, I want to at least know what it's like." He wondered how someone like that even lived. Nicer than them, that much was for sure. A whole different world, he assumed, he could barely wrap his mind around it. "It's your hair. Got those angelic curls."
Alfie sighed, shrugged and stepped back, waving. "Call me, mate!"
Driving this thing was a dream come true. He was so excited, he turned up the music and kept one eye on the road as he rooted around for the vehicle information so he could find the main address. Really close - nice. He hit up a few places around there, they were always pretty swanky but most of the good stuff was locked away. All he could get was clutter and some random stuff. Sometimes he just took the stamps. They were handy.
He used the keys to find the garage he needed and carefully pulled into the drive, making an excellent parking job if he said so himself.
Closing the shutters behind him, he opened the door and waited. No sounds of footsteps, no TV sounds, no dog movement. Everything seemed safe.
Heading inside, he looked around and then got out his phone, putting it on speaker. "His house is like 6 times my house and everything is all slick like. You would not believe it."
"He live alone?" Alfie assumed as much because he thought Bill would be smarter than to call him otherwise. Besides, the man just had a certain single feel about it. "Does he have anything out that you could nick?"
He wondered what the odds of that were. "Someone like that, I bet even his bloody saltshaker is worth more than our lives."
Odds were. "Nick some socks! I wanna wear posh socks."
Bill was used to doing drugs, passing out and waking up in weird places with a headache and sore eyes. It was basically his favourite pass time. At first, he didn't think much of waking up until he realised he was upright, which was weird. He pried his eyes open and the first thing he saw was the car.
The beautiful, black Tesla. There it was. Right in front of him. The fucking guy from the restaurant. Barty. It was his fucking car.
Which meant...
Eyes wide, Bill snapped himself away and looked up. Holy shit, he was tied up in a garage.
Having anticipated that this boy must have built up a certain resistance to drugs, Barty had used a higher dose than would have been necessary given his slight build. He noticed his movement from the corner of his eye, having the camera feed up on one of his screens. It made him stop what he was currently doing to watch instead, so he could witness the panic set in.
He hadn't done much yet. Taken all of his items away, obviously, and handcuffed him, both wrists, to the rack on the side wall of the garage. Many more things he could do, but his garage was soundproof. No need to go overboard too soon, he could wait a little. See what the boy would do, if he'd even try to get out, simply have a panic attack or what else.
"Okay, okay, okay. It's fine. You've gotten out of worse." Bill reminded himself as he felt along the handcuff to see what the key size was. Damn it, if he had his picks, he could have been out of this by now. He tried to see how much give they hand and pulled against them. Maybe if he pulled his thumb out of joint? But he fucking hated doing that.
He looked ahead at the car and wondered how the hell this guy got him? He didn't remember seeing him. How did he get so close? He tried to check for his phone but his pants were flat. No phone, no hands and a psycho on the loose. Great. "Fuck."
Squirmy little bloke, wasn't he? Barty watched him for a little while longer, just out of curiosity and to heighten his own anticipation. Then, finally, he made his way down to the garage. He opened the door and took the steps slowly, knowing that the sound would be heard in the garage.
Finally, he stepped through the door into the garage and walked over to stand in front of Bill, looking at him. "Nice seeing you again."
It was, overall. "I'm sorry. I really don't like rejection. Or little twinks touching my stuff without permission."
Well, how else did he respond to this shit? He was right, this bloke was a serial killer. Hopefully Alfie took him seriously when he said that if he didn't hear from him in the coming weeks, call the cops on this asshole. He looked Barty up and down and then yanked his hands more.
"I'm sorry I have a boyfriend and you told me to touch your car!" Bill defended, ready to fight with his feet if he had to.
"Uh-huh." Barty agreed, leaning back against said car now and pulling the padlock Bill had opened and left open when he'd broken in out of his pocket. He dangled it off his finger, raising his eyebrows. "I guess no one's explained to you yet how padlocks work. We can work on that."
A lot of education possibilities in that area. He had a lot of ideas already. "Do you like my house, Bill? You got to take a tour. Liked the automatic lights? So much fancy technology here."
He put the padlock back into his pocket for now, holding up his phone instead. And showing Bill the screen, playing the footage of Bill discovering the dungeon. "Hasn't it occurred to you that a house like this would have cameras?"
"Nah." Fuck. His eyes widened and he looked at Barty for a while before eyeing up the ceiling, trying to work out how to worm his way out of this one. "Right, so, I can give you the stuff back. I didn't take anything much, honest. Like a pair of socks and ... stupid card didn't even work." He didn't know how to activate it so it was just in his jacket pocket. "You can call the cops, if you fancy."
Then he could warn them about psycho serial killer man who drugged him and tied him up. "Cause-Cause you don't wanna, like, you know, do this sort of thing. Then we're both in trouble..."
"I don't see why I'd be in trouble. No one's seen me take you." Barty shrugged, not overly worried. He also turned his phone around, put it into camera mode and took a few pictures of Bill right now. Negotiating phase. It was fun to witness.
"I'm not the biggest fan of cops. I prefer sorting things out personally. Man to man." He pushed away from the car and stepped closer to Bill, looking down at him. He ran his fingers through Bill's hair, then grabbed it to force his head back. Pretty boy, admittedly.
"You'll look cute when you're scared. I like that."
A few hours passed before there was even a major sound. Unfortunately for Bill, even once there were steps, they only moved to the garage. From there, the car could be heard leaving.
Luckily, from there it only took about twenty minutes or so before there were steps again. This time, Barty opened the door to the basement and walked down carrying a paper bag. He set the bag down at the bottom of the stairs and moved forward, crouching down by Bill.
"Poor darling. You look exhausted." Understandably. "I had to finish something for a client and, well. You had a lot of thinking to do."
He undid the clamps first, then detached the chain from the collar. He left the collar on, however. He liked it there. He uncuffed both of Bill's ankles and then, with only the handcuffs still holding him to the cage, he finally took out the gag, setting it aside. "Stretch your jaw a little before you try talking."
He put his fingers on the sides of Bill's face, massaging his jaw a little.
It really fucking hurt. His nipples were fucking purple, his arms were dead and numb and his neck hurt. Not to mention it had been hours and he could still fucking taste Barty in his mouth. Once the gag was open, he wanted to use his arms to wipe the drool away but it seemed like those cuffs weren't part of the deal.
He looked at Barty, not even sure what to say to him. This was insanity but it was real insanity that was happening to him. And he really didn't want to fucking die in some guys basement of horrors.
So he chose his next words very wisely. "Sorry for spitting..." There. Hopefully he was fucking happy.
"Smart boy." Barty smiled, amused more than anything. He relented then, using the keys to undo the cuff around Bill's right wrist. His dominant hand, from what he'd seen. He used the free cuff to simply close around one bar of the cage, allowing him to lower both arms, even if his left arm did remain attached to the cage.
"I brought you something to drink and eat. I think you've earned yourself a treat, eh?" Showing endurance and the ability to learn from mistakes.
So he was getting food, clearly not a sign of imminent death. Bill dropped his right arm and whined in pain because God, it was so stiff. He hadn't been this stiff in fucking ages, he was used to rough conditions but this fucking hurt. He flexed his hand to try and get rid of the pins and needles. "Okay..."
What did he even do? How did he avoid dying for a full two days? Or forever, at least. Would he ever get out of this basement? Hell, if the police came, would they even find this place? "You do this a lot, huh? With guys... girls too?"
"Most of the time it's a much more... temporary arrangement." Barty brought the paper bag over and handed Bill the drink first. He assumed a big bottle of coke might be just the right thing for this little thug here. "And I reckon I prefer blokes, most of the time. Women... Not that often that I find one that truly sparks something. I don't tend to take them home."
He pushed the bag over to him. "There's a few different sandwiches in here. I don't know your preferences yet, so take your pick."
That said, Barty continued on from the prior topic. "I did cuff some girl to a lantern in an alley a week or two back. I left her with her panties in her mouth, but I didn't bother taking her home."
"Christ. You can't do that shit to a girl, they're all sensitive and ... stuff." From all he knew, you had to be nice to girls. And to do that to a girl seemed bad. Seemed like something close to the shit Alfie sometimes pulled with birds. "Seriously, blokes that fuck women are just--" Wait. He was insulting him again. Fuck. He wanted to survive the murder basement, not egg on the murderer.
He opened the coke and took a long swig before he eyed up the bag of food with a small frown. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to eat from this guy.
"You're just really into kinky stuff, yeah? I know some blokes that are. They're less..." Creepy. Weird. "Intense. I dated a bloke that liked that sort of stuff but I think his kink was just punching while fucking."
"Where's the difference? Men, women, only takes so much to make them cry. Takes a bit more to make women come, admittedly, but that just means slightly more work." He wasn't overly bothered by that part.
He waited for Bill to take a sandwich and, when he didn't, he took them out one by one so Bill could have an actual look at them.
"Kinky. Maybe. I reckon I simply like hurting people and making them desperate." Kinky might be one word for it.
Bill looked at the sandwiches. They were really fancy and he had no idea what one he wanted. He looked them over and then looked at Barty like he'd just asked him a tricky question. Usually he just ate like cheese. Or ham. Or sometimes just butter if he was low on cash. These were all fancy and giant.
"You should pick. I dunno what any of these are." He saw vague stuff he recognised but he was a little on edge still and he wasn't sure how to best make decisions.
He frowned and looked up from the sandwiches, wondering if this was a game. "Are you gonna kill me?"
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Then there was that one he recognised. Vaguely at first, but one night he saw him again at a club, grinding up against some ugly fucker twice his age, eyes blown out. Another tragic youth wasting away for sex and drugs.
Honestly, it seemed almost nice to step in and offer some life advice. A bit of correction.
Anyway, it all led to Barty stopping his car in front of the restaurant. He got out, keys in hands, and shook his head at the first eager valet stepping up to him, gesturing to the other one instead. The twink he'd seen before. "You there. I like the look of you better. What's your name?"
no subject
When the guy slipped by Alfie and handed him the keys, Bill was floored for a moment. He held out his hand, swiftly putting a friendly smile on his face. "I'm Bill, sir. Would you like me to park your car? It's a really beautiful one. It's a Tesla, yeah? Christ."
He really wanted to drive it. First time driving a car like that legally.
And yeah, no, the stealing was good too but the car. "I'll take good care of it."
no subject
He said it calmly, perhaps a little too calmly, but then he flashed a smile at the end. "Feel free to test out the sound though. Even the screen. Cinematic experience, they say." Whatever that was supposed to mean and why someone would want that in their car, he didn't know. "See you later, my friend."
no subject
Bill tossed the keys up and down and then playfully waggled them at Alfie before he hurried to the car, eager to get inside and look at the controls. "This is the nicest fucking car."
no subject
Had to be expensive, something like that. Not that he was much of a fashion expert, but still. It just looked expensive. "You still wanna go rob him or are you gonna wait and see whether he'll shag you?"
no subject
Their party money was more important than any shag with some random rich hot guy. Tempting but not worth it. He turned on the radio and fuck, that was some good sound. He looked at Alfie and smirked. "I looked more trust worthy. Ain't that nice?"
no subject
Alfie sighed, shrugged and stepped back, waving. "Call me, mate!"
no subject
Driving this thing was a dream come true. He was so excited, he turned up the music and kept one eye on the road as he rooted around for the vehicle information so he could find the main address. Really close - nice. He hit up a few places around there, they were always pretty swanky but most of the good stuff was locked away. All he could get was clutter and some random stuff. Sometimes he just took the stamps. They were handy.
He used the keys to find the garage he needed and carefully pulled into the drive, making an excellent parking job if he said so himself.
Closing the shutters behind him, he opened the door and waited. No sounds of footsteps, no TV sounds, no dog movement. Everything seemed safe.
Heading inside, he looked around and then got out his phone, putting it on speaker. "His house is like 6 times my house and everything is all slick like. You would not believe it."
no subject
He wondered what the odds of that were. "Someone like that, I bet even his bloody saltshaker is worth more than our lives."
Odds were. "Nick some socks! I wanna wear posh socks."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
The beautiful, black Tesla. There it was. Right in front of him. The fucking guy from the restaurant. Barty. It was his fucking car.
Which meant...
Eyes wide, Bill snapped himself away and looked up. Holy shit, he was tied up in a garage.
no subject
He hadn't done much yet. Taken all of his items away, obviously, and handcuffed him, both wrists, to the rack on the side wall of the garage. Many more things he could do, but his garage was soundproof. No need to go overboard too soon, he could wait a little. See what the boy would do, if he'd even try to get out, simply have a panic attack or what else.
no subject
He looked ahead at the car and wondered how the hell this guy got him? He didn't remember seeing him. How did he get so close? He tried to check for his phone but his pants were flat. No phone, no hands and a psycho on the loose. Great. "Fuck."
no subject
Finally, he stepped through the door into the garage and walked over to stand in front of Bill, looking at him. "Nice seeing you again."
It was, overall. "I'm sorry. I really don't like rejection. Or little twinks touching my stuff without permission."
no subject
Well, how else did he respond to this shit? He was right, this bloke was a serial killer. Hopefully Alfie took him seriously when he said that if he didn't hear from him in the coming weeks, call the cops on this asshole. He looked Barty up and down and then yanked his hands more.
"I'm sorry I have a boyfriend and you told me to touch your car!" Bill defended, ready to fight with his feet if he had to.
no subject
A lot of education possibilities in that area. He had a lot of ideas already. "Do you like my house, Bill? You got to take a tour. Liked the automatic lights? So much fancy technology here."
He put the padlock back into his pocket for now, holding up his phone instead. And showing Bill the screen, playing the footage of Bill discovering the dungeon. "Hasn't it occurred to you that a house like this would have cameras?"
no subject
"Nah." Fuck. His eyes widened and he looked at Barty for a while before eyeing up the ceiling, trying to work out how to worm his way out of this one. "Right, so, I can give you the stuff back. I didn't take anything much, honest. Like a pair of socks and ... stupid card didn't even work." He didn't know how to activate it so it was just in his jacket pocket. "You can call the cops, if you fancy."
Then he could warn them about psycho serial killer man who drugged him and tied him up. "Cause-Cause you don't wanna, like, you know, do this sort of thing. Then we're both in trouble..."
no subject
"I'm not the biggest fan of cops. I prefer sorting things out personally. Man to man." He pushed away from the car and stepped closer to Bill, looking down at him. He ran his fingers through Bill's hair, then grabbed it to force his head back. Pretty boy, admittedly.
"You'll look cute when you're scared. I like that."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
Luckily, from there it only took about twenty minutes or so before there were steps again. This time, Barty opened the door to the basement and walked down carrying a paper bag. He set the bag down at the bottom of the stairs and moved forward, crouching down by Bill.
"Poor darling. You look exhausted." Understandably. "I had to finish something for a client and, well. You had a lot of thinking to do."
He undid the clamps first, then detached the chain from the collar. He left the collar on, however. He liked it there. He uncuffed both of Bill's ankles and then, with only the handcuffs still holding him to the cage, he finally took out the gag, setting it aside. "Stretch your jaw a little before you try talking."
He put his fingers on the sides of Bill's face, massaging his jaw a little.
no subject
He looked at Barty, not even sure what to say to him. This was insanity but it was real insanity that was happening to him. And he really didn't want to fucking die in some guys basement of horrors.
So he chose his next words very wisely. "Sorry for spitting..." There. Hopefully he was fucking happy.
no subject
"I brought you something to drink and eat. I think you've earned yourself a treat, eh?" Showing endurance and the ability to learn from mistakes.
no subject
What did he even do? How did he avoid dying for a full two days? Or forever, at least. Would he ever get out of this basement? Hell, if the police came, would they even find this place? "You do this a lot, huh? With guys... girls too?"
no subject
He pushed the bag over to him. "There's a few different sandwiches in here. I don't know your preferences yet, so take your pick."
That said, Barty continued on from the prior topic. "I did cuff some girl to a lantern in an alley a week or two back. I left her with her panties in her mouth, but I didn't bother taking her home."
no subject
He opened the coke and took a long swig before he eyed up the bag of food with a small frown. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to eat from this guy.
"You're just really into kinky stuff, yeah? I know some blokes that are. They're less..." Creepy. Weird. "Intense. I dated a bloke that liked that sort of stuff but I think his kink was just punching while fucking."
no subject
He waited for Bill to take a sandwich and, when he didn't, he took them out one by one so Bill could have an actual look at them.
"Kinky. Maybe. I reckon I simply like hurting people and making them desperate." Kinky might be one word for it.
no subject
"You should pick. I dunno what any of these are." He saw vague stuff he recognised but he was a little on edge still and he wasn't sure how to best make decisions.
He frowned and looked up from the sandwiches, wondering if this was a game. "Are you gonna kill me?"
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)