Sacrificed by Curiosity, Part 7

The next two months were the most blissful that I had ever had—or, it's quite possible, that I would ever again have. I moved in with Doug, and we freely shared everything in life, most especially our cocks. He was enough for me. I didn't need women or other men now. I was ready to settle down for a life of my butt nestled into his lap. I didn't given another thought to Donatien or his coven. But I should have done so.

One night we turned in early after an exhausting day of tennis followed by a vigorous workout in the gym. We had explored each other's bodies with soap and water during a long, drawn-out shower, followed by toweling each other off and a naked tussle on the bed, with me winning and, as a reward, pulling Doug into my lap facing me as I knelt on the bed and watching the expressions of desire in his face as he slowly skewered his ass on my cock. He was arched back and I arched forward, wrapping my arms around his torso and finding his nipples with my lips and teeth, when I was suddenly jerked up and out of him from behind.

The bedroom was swarming with big, beefy men, stripped to the waist. Doug was hauled off of the bed and over into a corner, where several of the men started beating him with their fists. He was fighting back, and landed a couple of good punches of his own, but there were too many of them and they were too strong. In short order, they had beat him senseless and were dragging him out of the room.

Meanwhile, other men had strapped my hands together with a leather thong at the wrists and had tied off the other end on the brass slats at the top of the bed. I was yelling and screaming, but no one was paying any particular attention to me.

All the time this was going on, a huge, black man was standing almost motionless in the middle of the room, supervising the action with just a few hand gestures here and there. He was a monster of a man, more than seven feet tall and built like a footfall fullback. He was a handsome devil with dreadlocks that reached his shoulder.

When they had silenced Doug and hauled him out of the room by his arms, his head dangling and his feet dragging on the floor, the black monster turned and grinned down on me where I lay on my back on the bed, my arms tied above my head.

"And what shall we do with you, my lovely?" he teased me with in a thick, baritone Jamaican accent. "I know. You can be my bitch for tonight." With that, he pulled off his pants and stood there in all his oversized glory. He had balls and a humongous dong that more than matched his beefy seven-foot physique. His gigantic nipples were pierced with golden rings as was the tennis-ball sized helmet of his half-hard cock.

"You're from the coven, aren't you?" I cried, suddenly realizing how vulnerable Doug and I had been to the wrath of Donatien the past two months.

"Of course," he said, as he mounted the bed, making the bedsprings groan under his weight, and sat astride my chest. I felt like he was going to crush me with his powerful thighs.

"Then you can't touch me," I said. "I'm not of the coven. You can't have sex outside the coven."

"Ah, but there you are wrong," the Jamaican said with a laugh. "The master considers you part of the coven, and I was, regrettably, absent the evening of your initiation. He has specifically told me I can take you. That is my reward for bringing the renegade member back."

"But it's not Doug's fault!" I cried. "I tricked him. I made him untouchable in the coven."

"Enough, Bitch," the black monster demanded. "Suck me to hard. Prepare me for the fuck of your life." With that, he pulled my head up by the hair, and pressed the head of his cock between my lips.

"Suck me good, Bitch," he demanded, "Or you'll be sorry. You thought your Doug was well hung. Well, I have the thickest and longest dick in the coven, and I have access to the same drugs Doug does, and you are going to be fucked deeper than you ever have before and in more ways than you can count."

I dutifully kissed and tongued and sucked on the Jamaican's cock as it grew to astronomical length and thickness. Meanwhile, one of the other men still in the room prepared my ass with his tongue and, apparently, with added salve. At length, the Jamaican leaned back and inserted a beefy finger in my ass and finger fucked me deeper than most men could do with their cocks. He rubbed hard on my prostate, and as precum was bubbling out of my cock and I was moaning loudly, he gave permission to one of the men in the room to suck me off, which he did intensely and quickly.

And then the Jamaican came off my back and flipped me around on my stomach and raised me onto my knees. I felt the cold metallic feel of the golden ring in his cock helmet at my asshole and he was pushing into me. He was splitting me as I never was split before. I could not take him in. It was going to be impossible. At his command, however, there were hands on both of my legs and on my belly, and my legs were being drawn far apart and suspended at the level of the Jamaican's groin. Other hands were drawing my butt cheeks farther apart. And then he was in. I screamed bloody murder as he slowly rose up my ass canal. Heavy, roped veins running down his cock rippled across the walls of my canal, causing the channel to go into wild contractions. The Jamaican gave another command, and one of the men was above me, pushing his thighs in a kneeling position under my chest and forcing his cock into my mouth—forcing me to suck on him to stifle my screams. His hands were on the back of my head, holding me in place.

Deeper, deeper the Jamaican plowed, opening my canal wall to and almost beyond the limit. He didn't brutalize me, though. He pushed in slowly, and, although Doug had never been this thick, he had prepared me so that I could barely withstand this. He was in farther now than anyone, including Doug, had ever gone. At his command, my legs were lowered on the bed, and then he gathered them in between his strong thighs. I could feel his pubic hair mashed against my butt cheeks, so I knew he was in to the hilt. He commanded the man with his cock in my mouth to clear out, and I was free of him now, laying flat on the bed, gasping for air, and all of my attention focused on the gigantic club, with its rippling veins, reaching up for my stomach from my asshole.

The Jamaican lowered his massive chest on my back and he enfolded me in a close embrace. His ham-hocked hands came under me and covered my pecs and nipples. He nibbled on my ear and kissed me in the crook of my neck. His dreadlocks covered my face. I was panting heavily, trying to contain the pain, slowly adjusting to him inside me.

"You've got one sweet ass, Mon," he whispered in my ear. "Just as the master promised. We're going to be great friends, you and I. There aren't too many who can be trained to take what I have to give. Doug made a good start on training your sweet ass to my needs."

I whimpered and moaned, but he could feel me relaxing, adjusting to him.

"Kiss me, Mon," he whispered in my ear. "Relax, and don't fight it."

I turned my head to the side and met his lips. He pushed his tongue in and took control of my mouth, stifling my scream as his hips started to undulate and his dick came to life inside me. He pumped me slowly and shallowly, at least at first. Waves of pain rolled over me, and I felt the golden ring dragging along my ass walls, mining even deeper into me. He must have tired of this position, because, in one coordinated move, he slowly spun my body on his cock and changed his own position so that I now was face up on the bed, and he was at a right angle below me, my legs arched over his hips. He was T-squaring my ass with his rod so that the top of his cock was now running up the side of my ass canal. The thick veins in his cock now gave their attention to a whole new canal surface. He grabbed my hips with his hands and moved my ass up and down on his pole.

Just when I'd become accustomed to this position, he dragged me up to my knees on the bed, facing the headboard, with his big mitts dug into my pecs. We scooted closer to the head of the bed to give me more play on the leather strappings. He widened the stance on his thighs, pushing mine out, which opened me up more to his relentlessly pumping cock. He held me to him with one arm crossing my chest and a hand spread on one of my breasts. The other hand went down to my belly and then to my cock and balls.

The pain was still there, but my own desire was growing, and some pleasure was breaking through. It was a thrill that I was handling a cock of more than fourteen inches and with the thickness of a normal wrist. The strokes became longer and more insistent, and the Jamaican was breathing heavy. He pitched me forward and down, so that my weight was supported on the mattress on my shoulders, my head now getting a good view of the club pounding my ass, and held me suspended with his hands on my thighs, holding my legs up and out, and he jack-hammered his pile drive down into my ass. After growing tired of this position, the Jamaican stood up on the bed, bringing me with him. He lifted my feet out and away and I placed them on the top of the brass headboard, lodged against the balls at the corner. My torso was stretched forward by the leather bonds binding my wrists. His pelvis was under me, he held me by the hips, and he pumped up into me from below like a might piston. He was right. I was losing count of the separate positions he was ravishing me with.

We were both panting and moaning and groaning and yelling to each other how great a fuck this was. There was little pain for me now; I was lost in the action of the huge sausage powering its way in and out of my ass. His dreadlocks were whipping around my head.

The bed frame collapsed under us, and the brass headboard fell apart, freeing my hands from being lashed to the bed, although my wrists were still bound together. But the Jamaican didn't lose a stroke. Before abandoning the ruins of the bed, he folded my legs at the knees and had my cheek and chest up against the wall. I'd brought my hands back and over his head and they hung behind his neck. My other cheek was against his. Suddenly he stopped the thrusts and held very still. He was panting heavily and must have been close to cumming, but he apparently didn't want to do that yet. When his breathing had become regular again, he hauled me off the mattress, cupping one hand under my buttocks so that his cock would remain encased, and turned from the bed and swiveled my body around facing his and my butt in his lap, while he sat in a straight chair.

He arched my torso back so that my head nearly touched the floor. my knees were bent on either side of his butt cheeks, and my calves ran back toward the front of the chair so that I could balance my body on the balls of my feet and maintain some sort of fulcrum leverage, as he grabbed my hips in this hands and slid my ass back and forth in deep strokes on his tool. He came in five separate massive floods of cum up into my intestines, and we both held position there, panting hard, until he we cooled down.

Then he lifted my pelvis to his face, just as if he were drinking from a glass, took my engorged cock in his mouth and sucked me off to my own ejaculation. Lowering my pelvis back to his lap, he pulled my torso up to his then, kissed me hard in the crook of my neck, and whispered to me that I was going to love our time together and so was he. I was close to tears, torn between pain and desire.

Then he let my body slide off his dick and into the rumpled sheets. He rose from the chair and pulled on his pants, as those around us who had been enjoying the performance immensely pulled a pair of sweatpants over my legs and bond my ankles together. Then the Jamaican hefted me over his shoulder and hustled me out of the house to a waiting van with smoked windows, and we were off to the suburbs.