Once Samuel Hardgraves regained consciousness and had calmed down enough to be released from his bonds, Jamaal Jackson also known as Foreshadow gave him a tour around the secret complex he called The Facility — a place where Jamaal and the other members of the Dark Forces had imprisoned a camp full of young illegal alien males.

"Why are all these young men here?" the mayor asked, staring across at a fenced-in courtyard.

Within the courtyard there were a horde of youths. A few dozen of them. Some looked sort-of Asian, some looked sort-of Spanish but all were from Mexico. Their numbers surged about within the enclosure as if the detainment area was a playground. They were barefoot and the odor of unwashed bare feet permeated his nostrils. For some reason this caused his penis to become rapidly erect.

"I make a tidy profit sneaking in aliens from across the border." Jamaal explained with a satisfied smirk. "Once these undocumented families arrive, I keep their strongest, most productive male members but allow the others to go on their way."

Hardgraves was confused,

"What do you keep the strongest males for?"

"Ransom," the mysterious man replied simply. "I hold the most productive members of the families hostage until the other family members can come up with the money to pay me for having brought them across the border. It's really a good deal."

Again taking note that all of the young captives were shoeless, Hardgraves asked,

"And why are they barefoot?"

"I do like admiring their bare feet, but the real reason is rather simple: an incentive to keep them from trying to escape or from killing themselves," said Jackson.
"A few months back, a boneheaded boy missed his family so much that he actually used his shoestrings to hang himself from a ceiling pipe in the lavatory.
"His folks, of course, refused to pay the ransom after that. Though I did force them to pay me a quarter of the price so that I would turn over the kid's body to them for burial."

"Why do they all seem to have hard-ons?"

Jackson laughed,

"We feed them endorphinagra a chemical that suppresses their appetite, but makes them all rather horny. Every few hours we have to hose off a few boys to keep them from fucking each other to death."

Hardgraves shrugged,

"So what do you need me for?"

"My secret headquarters here is becoming less and less of a secret. You're the mayor of Safe Haven. I need you to make certain that the authorities stay off-limits of this place."

"Why would I do that?"

Jackson made a face,

"Because I saved your miserable life, you clueless fuck! If it weren't for me, tomorrow all of the flags in town would be flying at half-mast just for your sorry ass! "

Samuel Hardgraves nodded resignedly. It was indeed the truth.

Jackson continued,

"Yep. If it weren't for me you would have been skewered by those two homicidal rejects from a Marilyn Manson video."

The mayor was surprised,

"You know about Marilyn Manson?"

"Why sure!" replied Jackson. "You don't think I listen to all types of music just cause I'm...."

"A nigger," Hardgraves said slowly.

Jamaal Jackson had to use all of the self-control he could muster in order to keep himself from killing the mayor.

Completely oblivious to the fact that his life had come very close to reaching an abrupt conclusion, Samuel Hardgraves glanced around at the area surrounding him and Jackson. The Facility wasn't really a detainment camp at all.

Rather it was a filthy corral; a place to keep illegal young men locked up and reasonably healthy until their family came up with the money to pay for their children's release. Even though the place was filled with kids, it's main emphasis seemed to be on maintaining animals.

A Latino boy who spoke remarkably good English shouted at one of the Dark Forces enlistees,

"You can't keep us here!"

He tried kicking the armed man, but because he was barefooted this eighteen-year-old only succeeding in hurting himself more than the enlistee,

"You have no right!"

"Quiet down, Miguel," the armed masked soldier replied contemptuously.

"I won't quiet down, you gun-toting pero!" the boy shouted.

He was apparently oblivious to the raging erection in his own pants,

"I'm gonna get out of this place somehow. And when I do, I'm going to make you all pay for what you've done to me and every other boy here!"

"Sergeant King," Jackson said.

He turned to one high-ranking Dark Force enlistee,

"Have a couple of your men show this boy how we deal with those who spout threats and vow vengeance against us."

Soon Mayor Hardgraves found himself bearing witness as eighteen-year-old Miguel was confronted by two savage enlistee members of the Dark Forces Battalion.

One of these enlistees stepped between his legs, reached down and grabbed the cuffs of the youth's trousers and proceeded to pull them off stripping Miguel stark-ass naked. After a few liberal blows to the head to make the young immigrant more "cooperative", the armed man dropped between the youth's legs and spread them apart with his knees, exposing the eighteen-year-old's manhood to his wanton desires.

The enlistee's initial assault was a hard right bare knuckled fist directly between Miguel's nuts. He twisted and dug his knuckles into the youth's balls once his punch connected. Then he grabbed the youth's drug-hardened cock with one hand to keep it out of the way while he repeatedly pounded his fist into Miguel's defenseless nut-sack.

After ten or twenty solid dead center groin punches, the enlistee grabbed the youth's balls and began twisting and yanking them. Now the young immigrant was feeling real pain as the enlistee contorted his body in an attempt to escape his vicious grip. When Miguel brought his head up he could clearly see the outline of the enlistee's massive balls and now hardening cock in his jockstrap.

"Think about the future, boy," Jackson bellowed, as his enlistee doubled the force of his attack on Miguel's cock.

Without delay he released his twin holds and slammed his knee into the young immigrant's crotch. Then he raised his leg up and brought his knee crashing down and ground his balls into the crotch.

He continued to grind and pulverize Miguel's balls with repeated knee drops causing the youth's legs to flail wildly. He slipped his right arm under the youth's left leg and lifted it up over his shoulder exposing the young immigrant's crotch even more before he slammed his open hand into Miguel's balls and again locked them in a nut cruncher, his thumb cleaving his sac while his fingers clamped tightly around his balls. He kept his hand locked around Miguel's nut-sack while he flipped the lad over onto his stomach, twisting and wrenching the balls as he did so.

Suddenly Miguel felt the second enlistee's hand rubbing his ass, then the crack that separates his butt-cheeks. The Dark Forces soldier was poking and prodding the youth's hole with his hand while he continued to massage his balls. This enlistee let go of the youth's balls and spread Miguel's legs with his knees.

The young immigrant felt the tip of The Dark Force's member's cock as the second enlistee prepared to penetrate his hole. Carefully he lined up his horse cock with the young Latino's tight hole, the large head pressing tightly against it. Then with one mighty charge he buried his un-lubed cock halfway into the youth's tight ass.

Miguel nearly passed-out from the sudden penetration of his asshole. The second enlistee ground his cock deep into his entrails, ramming it in deeper with each thrust. His cock got even harder as he augmented the rhythm of his pumping cock until he was going wild with a ferocious animal lust.

Miguel's own cock was swelling and begging for relief and his balls, although well man-handled, were churning with the expected orgasm. The enlistee reached around his chest and grabbed both of his firm pecs with his expert fingers and began to manipulate them until the youth's nipples were as rock hard as both of their penises.

The second enlistee clamped his nipples between his strong fingers and bit down on Miguel's neck with his teeth as his body began to spasm, signaling that he was about to ejaculate.

And ejaculate he did. It seemed like the enlistee would come very close to pulverizing the youth's innards with his flood of sperm. As he unloaded his load into Miguel, the young immigrant unloaded his own on the ground. The second enlistee kept his penis buried deep in Miguel until he was certain that he had totally shot his wad, then as his cock began to soften he withdrew.

Miguel eventually managed to stagger to his feet.

But just as he did so, the first enlistees immediately clubbed the youth back to the ground, spit on him and then proceeded to kick and punch the helpless young immigrant until he was unconscious.

Then the battalion's sergeant hauled Miguel Garcia away, clutching the broken, bloodied boy by the ankles and dragging his senseless body along the ground in front of the fenced pen where the majority of the captive young immigrants were kept. After seeing this, the more spirited illegal youths would think twice about mouthing off at the Dark Forces again.

'Ah, Jackson does know how to maintain order,' Hardgraves thought with grudging admiration. 'He had to make an example out of that Miguel kid. He had to let all the other illegal youngsters see a kid being dragged about, unconscious, and roughed-up.
Now maybe they'll be too scared to challenge the authority of the Dark Forces or make an attempt at escaping. They'll think that the Dark Forces are men who wouldn't show any mercy to troublemakers'.

But if Jackson thought that making an example out of Miguel was going to quell any and all thoughts of insurrection, he was mistaken.

Another boy who went by the name Damaso shouted and cursed at the Dark Forces with a rage that was even greater than that of the boy called Miguel. He spat at the armed enlistees. Then he swore at them in Spanish because of what they'd done to his friend. Finally, he ran up to Jamaal Jackson himself and boldly spat at the mysterious man's feet.

Jackson ignored the boy and turned to Hardgraves,

"If you don't agree to keep the police off my back, I'll have to shut this place down."

Hardgraves shrugged expansively,

"So? What do I care?"

"Well," the mysterious man replied evenly, "If this place shuts down, I will have to get rid of the uh, inventory."

A deep laugh suffused the mayor,

"You mean the imprisoned young men here, right? You're telling me that you'll 'get rid of' all these boys if the police try to shut you down? I don't buy it."

Very calmly Jackson seized Damaso the youth who had spat at him. He grabbed the nineteen year-old's arm, and came up behind him. Without a trace of emotion he began twisting Damaso's arm and wrenching his thumb. As he did this, he glanced at Samuel Hardgraves,

"How much pain do I have to cause this boy before you believe that I will indeed carry out my threat?"

Damaso cried painfully as his thumb was vermiculated by Jackson,

"Ow ow ow ow!"

He went down on his knees.

Hardgraves merely gave another uncaring shrug as he watched the boy scream. Struggling against Jamaal's grip was clearly causing the youth a lot of agony, but the fact that Damaso was nothing but some son of an illegal fence-jumper prevented the mayor from being moved by pity.

"Still unconvinced?" Jackson asked, releasing the youth for a moment.

"You had that boy called Miguel beaten senseless and dragged across this courtyard I was aware right then and there that you were capable of hurting your young prisoners," the mayor explained, "But you wouldn't go to the extreme of slaughtering them mercilessly."

"Oh, I wouldn't, eh? Well, watch this."

The youth called Damaso attempted to flee, when Jackson's powerful hand reached out and slammed into the lad's groin. The strong fingers dug into the youth's trouser-clad thigh and clamped shut tightly around his nuts.

Damaso yelled with terror as the mysterious man pulled him by his balls pulled him near the holding pens so that this execution could be witnessed by as many prisoners as possible. He continued to squeeze Damaso's nuts with his powerful grip, kneading and crushing them between his powerful fingers.

Jackson thought that the youth would submit to his nut cracking grip and plead for mercy, but this lad is apparently tougher than most of the young immigrant prisoners he has encountered. Even with his strong forearm muscles bulging and straining Jackson is aware that Damaso was not giving into him, nor was he begging to be released from his fearsome grasp.

The mysterious man pulled the youth further towards the pens until they are in the clear view of all the prisoners. Jackson yanked down on Damaso's nuts viciously, and ordered the youth to kneel before him. He was still holding the youth by his balls while he stepped behind him. Then he ordered Damaso to place his hands behind his back where he handcuffed them together.

Only then did Jackson release his grip on the Latino youth's nuts, and even then only momentarily, before he reached around the young Latino's kneeling body and drove both of his hands into the crotch of Damaso's trousers until he found his basket.

Jackson locked one of Damaso's balls in each of his hands and began to wrench, squeeze and crush them mercilessly again. The pain doubled in intensity in his crotch, but it was not yet overwhelming.

Jackson released his hold and slipped his right hand into the waist band of the youth's trousers. Finding the bottom of Damaso's well worn T-shirt, he seized the fabric and with one violent motion ripped it up over his washboard stomach, broad hairless chest and shoulders before he renting it to shreds. With the Latino youth's muscular upper body fully exposed he had trouble containing his desire to work Damaso over and use his body for whatever as he wanted.

Again he reached around the youth's waist, but instead of attacking his balls, the mysterious man undid Damaso's belt and pulled it from around his waist before using it to bind his arms. Then he grabbed the front of the youth's trousers with both hands, yanked them apart and exposed his jockstrap clad privates.

Again he drove his hands deep into Damaso's crotch but this time his hands had no trouble reaching the young immigrant's nuts, and he dug his fingers into his manhood. He worked his fingers deeper and deeper into his ball-sack.

As the mysterious man tried to scramble his balls, Damaso's endorphinegra-stimulated cock sprang to attention and Jackson took great delight in its length and girth. The young Latino's hard-on distracted him, and he slipped one of his hands around its shaft.

The mysterious man then unexpectedly drove his knee solidly right into Damaso's bulging basket. Jackson ground his steel-like kneecap into the young Latino's cajones attempting to pulverize them into pulp.

He was surprised that after four solid knee lifts directly into his exposed and defenseless balls, the youth still hadn't lost his erection or collapsed into a whimpering heap at his feet. So Jackson rammed his knee into Damaso's nuts for a fifth time, and spun the youth around so that he was positioned behind the lad.

The mysterious man clasped his hands together and slammed them down on the back of Damaso's neck driving him to the floor. Damaso landed on his face and knees. Jackson's fist shot between his legs, his hard knuckles connected with the young Latino's low hanging balls causing them to swing wildly between his legs.

His upper cut caught Damaso by surprise, but then Jackson withdrew his clenched fist and slapped the youth's balls with his open hand. Again the young Latino felt the power of the mysterious man's grip as his fingers clamped shut, trapping his balls. Jackson squeezed, stretched and twisted Damaso's balls, mauling them until the youth was forced flat on his stomach.

He released the lad from his nut cracking grip, but as he stood up he forced his foot between Damaso's legs and pinned his balls to the floor with his spike-soled boots, the Latino lad's nuts oozing blood and precum.

Jackson kept his spiked boots pressing deeply into Damaso's privates then gradually placed most of his weight on the youth's balls. He reached down and turned Damaso over, his black body towered over him.

Again the Latino youth felt the mysterious man's weight as he stomped his spike-boot-clad foot into his nuts. When the lad still refused to scream or plead for mercy, Jackson eventually decided to kill the young Latino and be done with it.

After hauling the groaning, bleeding boy to his feet, the mysterious man twisted himself behind Damaso's back again. This time he crossed both arms around the boy's neck and, apparently using his full strength, he began to pull choking the life out of the Latino youth.

Damaso turned blue and struggled desperately for breath for a few moments, then he quit kicking and went limp. Jamaal Jackson dropped the boy's motionless body. Damaso wasn't breathing and his face was now a deathly shade of gray.

The other young immigrants, who were watching the entire horrific scene from the confinement pens, screamed. Miguel, who had recovered from his earlier injuries by this time, ran over to where the body of Damaso Torres lay.

"Get back to the holding pen, Miguel" Sergeant Malik King, a high-ranking Dark Force enlistee ordered.

"Damaso is from my home town in Ocampo," Miguel explained lamely, motioning towards the supine, inert body of his friend. "Shouldn't you be performing CPR on him or something?"

"He doesn't need it, Miguel." said Jackson, apparently appalled by the fact that Hardgraves still seemed unimpressed by everything he had shown him thus far. "Go on back to the holding pens, boy."

Miguel remained right where he was.

A crowd of the other youths had left the open pens by this time over two dozen young men were staring down at the still, prone body of Damaso Torres. The Dark Forces enlistees drew their billy clubs just in case the lot of them were preparing to cause trouble.

"Look, boys," Jamaal Jackson said evenly. "I don't want to have to order the Dark Forces to use their batons to force you back over to the pens so why don't you guys just cooperate and clear away from this area?"

Samuel Hardgraves himself knelt before Damaso's body. He placed his ear to the boy's chest, then felt for a pulse. After a while he stood up, vigorously wiping his hands clean on his trousers as if touching the illegal boy had somehow contaminated him.

"He is from my home town," Miguel explained to the mayor again. "His name is Damaso he's my friend."

"Well, you had better start looking for a new friend, kid," Samuel Hardgraves said with a sigh. "Because Damaso here has had it."

Miguel Garcia gasped sharply and fainted.

Without blinking, Hardgraves turned to Jackson,

"Well, you still haven't convinced me to hire your Dark Forces to be my new protection squad "

"But you WILL … and you'll keep law-enforcement off my property here," the mysterious man declared confidently.

"Now what gives you that idea?" asked the mayor, folding his arms.

"Two words," said Jackson with a mirthless smile. "Murder and Mayhem,"

Samuel Hardgraves's visibly shook at the mere mention of the names.

"So it's pretty simple, Mr. Mayor. We either deal or you die," Jamaal Jackson's smile turned into a full grin.

Then the grin became a chuckle. Eventually, with his black muscled body shaking merrily, the mysterious man threw his head back and howled with laughter.

The laughing stopped when word reached the mysterious man that Murder and Mayhem were advancing towards The Facility.

To be continued…