Note to Readers:
This story contains nonconsensual sex between men. If this isn't something that interests you, please move on. Otherwise, enjoy.
*****
John and Jeremy knew exactly what kind of men they were. They'd never really tried to deny it, and never really felt a need to change.
Being fraternal twins, they had a lot in common, and while they weren't identical, they did look enough like each other that many people assumed they were. Both had short brown hair, both had piercing brown eyes, and both had a crooked smile that often charmed others enough to get them out of whatever trouble they'd found themselves in.
But they had their differences. John, the older of the two, was taller, broader, and his features were just a little sharper. He always had some kind of facial hair, and although the goatee was his favorite, he did often change styles.
Jeremy was long and lean, and impeccably well-groomed. Clean-shaven and neat, he would probably be considered the more attractive of the two. He was also more cunning and sadistic than his older brother, and was more or less the "brains" behind the pair.
His dick was also bigger than his brother's, and quite a bit thicker.
It definitely came in handy when they were playing with some of their targets. While they both worked out, and were quite strong, John had always been the more physically able of the two, and was more than glad to hold an unwilling victim down while Jeremy pushed that thick dick inside, the screams sending chills straight to his groin.
They had been like this for as long as either of them could remember. It started as teenagers, when they would gang up on their younger brother. They'd been 19, and Chris had been 18, that first time. Their parents hadn't been home, so there had been no need to worry about Chris making too much noise. For Jeremy, it was the sweetest high, and he was immediately addicted.
That was the beginning of the end for both of them. While they were both mostly straight, and thoroughly enjoyed women, they quickly found that forcing women just didn't hold the same attraction as forcing men. So they abandoned their short-lived quest to force themselves on women, and turned their attention back to the men they adored.
Their brother was always the easy choice. He was always there, always available, and always too ashamed and too shy to tell anyone what was going on. They all shared a room in their small house, and as the three boys went on, the sex had become a common nighttime ritual.
After a few months, after Chris had resigned himself to his fate and had stopped struggling completely, John and Jeremy found themselves a bit disappointed. While they thoroughly enjoyed the obedience of their brother, and still used him regularly, they realized it was the struggle that they loved.
They needed someone else.
At first, it was a very inaccurate science. They knew they needed to find someone they could physically overpower, but after a few mistakes, they realized that the physical characteristics weren't enough.
They needed a specific personality type. Someone quiet, someone reserved, perhaps a little shy. Someone who preferred not to be in crowds, who preferred staying home on the weekends, rather than go to parties. Introverts.
And they quickly realized that the younger their target was, the better. Younger men were always a bit more innocent, a bit more naïve. While they had certainly had their share of fun with thirty-somethings, and sometimes older than that, they realized that teens and young adults didn't fight back as much.
Because that was another thing they looked for. They needed someone passive, who would struggle, but wouldn't try to throw punches or use weapons. John carried a rough-looking scar on the outside of his left thigh from one such mistake.
But as time went on, they learned more and more about the kind of person they needed, and what signs to look for. By the time they hit 23, they were experts at it, and almost never made mistakes.
Sure, they dabbled in the occasional woman, when the need struck them, and had even had the odd girlfriend or two. But they'd never really paid the women much attention. They never really respected them, and saw no desire to tolerate a relationship simply for the physical pleasure they received from it.
Most of their efforts were spent looking for the next victim. And at least every couple of weeks or so, they struck gold. They spent a lot of time in travelers' bars, gay bars, hotel bars, anywhere they could find a man, alone and vulnerable.
They didn't really care about the sexuality of their victims. John, who always preferred using a man's mouth, tended to gravitate more toward gay men, while Jeremy, who thoroughly enjoyed the screams that came from shoving his dick inside a virgin ass, preferred them straight.
But they weren't picky. It took days to find a decent target, so they took what they could get.
Occasionally, they got unbelievably lucky and found a target they could use more than once. That look of recognition, dread, and fear that flashed across a boy's face when he saw them again, and knew why they had come back, was something that never failed to kick their lust up a notch. And, in the end, it had turned out to benefit them.
One of their repeat targets was skilled with computers, including the fine art of hacking into email and social media accounts. This target, Sam, also happened to enjoy being used slightly more than he wanted to admit.
Sure, he would always fight them at first, would always cry and scream in that first moment of penetration, and would always gag at the first taste of cock in his mouth, but by the time John and Jeff were about to cum, his dick was rock-hard, he didn't need to be held down, and he eagerly pushed back against Jeremy while enthusiastically sucking John's cock. And afterward, he was completely obedient and compliant, even nuzzling their crotches as they put their clothes back on.
And Sam's skills with hacking were invaluable. Using his talents, they could easily threaten to blackmail other repeat targets into silence.
So life was good. They moved into an apartment together and hunted together at least twice a week. It went on for three more years. Now, they were twenty-six, in top physical condition, and perpetually horny. And sure, they found the occasional female slut to bang once in awhile.
That's how they met Velocity, actually. Jeremy had found her in a bar when he was 24 and approached her. But, for the first time in his life, his advances had been rejected.
And that bothered the hell out of him. He was damn good-looking, impeccably groomed with a perfect body. Women always noticed him. And he was just as careful selecting his women as he was selecting his men. Someone scantily-clad, in her late teens or early twenties, with hair and makeup far too over-done, and alone. These were the kinds of women who were at the bar for one thing, and one thing only. They never respected themselves, and often had significant problems with self-esteem, and were very easily manipulated into spreading their legs for him.
And she fit that description perfectly. So the fact that she so nonchalantly dismissed him piqued his interest. It had been years since he'd considered forcing himself on a woman, but the thought went through his head, then. He decided to wait until she left the bar and follow her home.
But then, he slowly started to realize that there was something very off about this particular barely-dressed slut. The more he studied her, the more he saw a deep, predator's gleam in her eyes. When she looked around the room, her gaze wasn't unfocused and casual. It was a searching gaze, and it lingered on each man for just a moment too long before moving on. She wasn't simply looking at the men around her. She was determined. Focused. She was looking for something very specific.
Jeremy noticed with a shock that she was hunting for her own target, and the clothes, hair, makeup, and gaudy jewelry were nothing more than a disguise to lure her prey.
