Sacrificed by Curiosity, Part 9

The coven was good enough to dump Doug on the steps of an ER in a cross-town hospital and to drop me off at home with one of the younger men from the group there with me to clean me and the damage to our bedroom up and to provide an alibi for me when the police arrived later that evening. After the police left, I went into the bathroom and ran a steaming bath. I stretched out in the tub and soaped myself, listening to classic music on a CD. I looked up and saw that the young coven member was standing, posed enticingly in the doorway to the bathroom, watching me sponge my tired torso, arms, and legs off and apparently thoroughly enjoying the view.

He looked so young and fresh. He couldn't have been more than nineteen years old. A strawberry blond, with a smooth, chiseled chest. He was naked to the chest, and was wearing extremely low-rise faded jeans that showed a good inch of reddish pubic hair. His pecs were held high and his arms were muscled, but not overly so, a very lithe youth. I wondered how his initiation into the coven had gone and how recently that had happened. He looked barely used.

"Okay, I'm settled back in now," I said. "Thanks for your help and for giving me an alibi. You can go now."

"Do you really want me to leave?" The young man asked. "I mean, with the alibi I left, shouldn't I be leaving some DNA around or something in case the police want to check out whether we really were together?"

"I rather think this bath will be taking care of that," I responded dryly.

"Oh. Well, it's just that Don told me there would be something in it for me if I came home with you and helped you get the place back into order and provided an alibi."

"Something in it for you? Like what?"

"You are quite a legend in the coven. All anyone can talk about is your initiation ceremony, and, well, I wasn't in the coven yet. But seeing you in action this evening . . ."

"So, the long and short of it is that you want to top me. Is that it?"

"Well . . . Doesn't everyone?"

"Strip those pants off and let me see you. I'm pretty picky."

"What? Oh, yes, sir." And the jeans and briefs quickly came off. I nearly swallowed my tongue. Another long, beautiful cock, hard and curved up nicely.

"Oh, hell. Why not?" I responded with a weary sigh. "But make it quick. Come on into the tub."

The young man eagerly entered the tub with me just as "Bolero" was conveniently starting on my CD. I spread my legs up onto the rims of the tub, and he slid under my buttocks, kneeling on his thighs. He entered me, his luscious dick curving up into my prostrate, well before the rhythmic section of the music started to pick up its jungle-like beat, and he proved to be musically vigorous in being able to stay right on the beat with his long strokes, even as they intensified. Then we made more languid waves through the bathwater as he slow-fucked me through "Clair de Lune." And when he had bathed my insides with his young, hot cum, I graciously acknowledge that maybe he had a point about bolstering my alibi in this manner. He had spurted semen so deep inside me, a mere tub bath wasn't going to erase the proof that he'd been having sex inside me this evening. I didn't bother to point out that I had the cum of four other men, including, Doug mingling inside me from this evening's exertions, which no doubt would really confuse a diagnostic lab.

During a particular wild Yanni number with even a more pronounced beat than "Bolero," I showed the young man that I could pound ass with the best of them as well, and he proved to be so tight, and yelled, grunted, and groaned so believingly, that I doubted that his initiation into the coven had been anywhere near as vigorous as mine had been.

The police only halfheartedly pursued the case of Doug's beating and brutal rape, being homophobic by nature and assuming that Doug had probably deserved all that had happened to him. I also later found out that someone in the office of the mayor was protecting Donatien's operation.

I had the bedroom completely redone while Doug was recovering from his surgery in the hospital. When he was returned to me, it took him mouths to recuperate to the point that he was even able to walk in the house. For weeks, he just gazed at me with empty eyes. And he only slowly became interested in anything remotely connected with sex, which was quite a contrast to the randy devil he'd been earlier.

It was a week or more before I was able to walk around anything but bowlegged, as well. But I recovered remarkably quickly—and a good thing that I did, because almost from the beginning, I found myself summoned by Donatien at least once a week. I wasn't taken to the stone coven cavern again, but was deposited in one of the lush upstairs bedrooms, where whatever coven member was receiving an award that evening would find me and ravish me. Often, I serviced more than one at a time. These sessions fed on my anger, not the least because I began to look forward to the sex that I couldn't be having with Doug.

More than a third of my sessions at the mansion were with Donatien himself. He would keep me all night, and an initial furious assault on my ass would quickly change to prolonged, gentle rocking in and out in a comfortable position. I grew to suspect that he loved me, and that, no matter what cruel streak he had, he was protecting me from the worst that he could do.

I had discovered three very interesting facts about myself in these weeks. I had an asshole and canal that was remarkably pliable and able to retract back to reasonable size even after having been doubled by two gigantic cocks. And even more remarkable than that, I now realized that I loved the sex. I could feel pain until my canal had adjusted to whatever partner I was with, but it was becoming quite evident that I reveled in having a dick up my ass in all sorts of inventive positions and a cock in my mouth. If it was just the physical act of getting plowed, I would have enjoyed myself immensely. But I was being mentally and emotionally raped with each summoning to the mansion, and I could not come to grips with losing control over my body in this way.

The third thing I learned from this period, something that I would have gleaned sooner if I'd analyzed the events of the past several months, was that I realized that I was extraordinarily attractive to men. Even the straightest of men undressed me with their eyes and speculated about having sex with me.

I began to plot my revenge on Donatien, and, as I did before, I decided to use my attraction to other men to put this revenge into play.

I researched the members of all of the vice squads in the city's police precincts, and soon hit a bonanza. There was a thirty-something, ripped muscles, square-cut body and sandy crew-cut Marine drill sergeant type of a vice detective who worked out nearly every evening in one of the gyms I already had a membership to. He liked to work out when he came off shift, apparently to exercise off all of the frustrations and aggressiveness that came with his job, and thus he'd been given the keys to the gym to close up after himself after a workout that had extended into the early morning hours.

One evening, I timed my own workout for the end of the regular day. He arrived on the floor very close to closing, and I could tell that he was pent up with adrenaline from the intensity of his workout. I slipped into the locker room and made sure I was in the shower after everyone but the detective had left. Shortly thereafter the detective closed up the building after them, finished his routine, and slammed into the locker room, the workout not having come close to assuaging his energy and anger.

I was standing there under a stream of water, giving him a full frontal of my luscious body and soaping myself intimately, when he burst into the shower. He glowered at me from across the room, as I soaped up and stroked my cock, and I stared him down as his belligerent glare changed to a look of animalistic desire and his cock started to stand to attention.

I turned off the water, padded back to the entrance of the shower room, and toweled off, slowly and caressingly, giving him both front and butt shots. I barely had my briefs and T-shirt on when I heard this animal howl from the entrance of the shower and he was upon me, still dripping wet. He threw me up against the bank of lockers, literally tore my T-shirt off my torso and wrapped a beefy arm entwined with ropy veins around my waist. He pulled my pelvis into his and I could feel the urgency of him—and he could feel my hardness as well—and he went for my chest and nipples with his mouth and tongue in loud slurping sounds.

I gasped and asked him to stop, which he took as a further turn on, which I had suspected he would. Pushing me down to my knees and taking my head in his hands, he commanded me to suck him, which I did, paying particular attention to pushing his uncut foreskin off his glans with my lips and rimming where the helmet met the bulk of the cock with my tongue and flicking his piss slit. I also moaned in feigned terror for him and acted like I wanted to disengage several times, which pleased him immensely. Tension was draining out of him to the point of him realizing this was exactly what he needed, but he was still tightly strung enough to take out his pent-up anger on my body.

He pulled his locker open behind me and pulled out several objects. Pushing me down on my back on the bench welded to the floor between the lockers, he handcuffed my wrists behind me and under the bench slat. He ripped off my briefs. Then he showed me a policeman's billy club, which he proceeded to lather up with salve from a tube. I babbled my fear to him and pleaded with him to stop and let me go. He just laughed and lathered up my asshole as well. He produced cording from somewhere and lashed my legs by the ankles to the lock holes in lockers on either side of the bench. My legs now were spread wide to him. Then he straddled the bench behind me, and started to work the billy club into my ass. I screamed and hollered virginally for him, but he was mightily surprised—and further turned on—when he discovered that I could take the billy club into me. While he was rotating it around in me and pushing it ever deeper, he stroked my cock with his other hand and indulged in tasting it for himself.

He had only pushed the club in five inches or so when he was overcome with desire and exchanged the billy club for his own club, sliding in and out of me across the top of the bench. I changed my tune for him now, moaning and sighing and grunting and letting him know he was the best and that I was loving what he was doing to me. I told him I was dying to kiss him, and he released me from the handcuffs so that I could raise my torso to him and kiss him deeply on the mouth. He released my legs then too.

As soon as I was released, I pushed him away and made like I was going to make a run for it. With a loud, animalistic roar, though, he caught me and pushed me into the shower and up against the wall, with my cheek and belly flat against the wet surface. He turned the shower on full blast above us, commanded me to spread my legs, and, with one hand pushing my chest into the wall and the other on my belly pulling my pelvis back toward him, he roughly plunged into me and pumped away at me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he was moaning as he plowed me deep, becoming aware that he was (he thought) raping me, but not being able to help himself.

"Deeper, harder," I answered, increasingly putting my own butt into countermotion to his stroking. Eventually, he pulled out of me, his hot cum spewing up my back.

This copious and furious ejaculation drained the last of his anger and frustration from him, and he stood there close behind me, his dick still in me but withering away, as his breathing became more and more regular.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered in my ear. "I've never done anything like that before. I don't know what came over me. I just have all of this stuff built up inside me. I'll never touch you again. I don't know what to do or say beyond that."

"No apologies," I whispered back. "I loved it. It was just the way I like it. Please don't say you'll never do it again."

"Oh, God," he moaned. "You mean you'd let me take you like I was raping you again."

"Again and again and again," I answered, "Whenever you need release."

We kissed then, dried off, and went our separate ways after I gave the detective my business card with my home address and phone number on it.

He did call on me again, frequently, and each time we followed the pattern of his fetish, with him assaulting me in ambush, ripping my clothes off, plowing me first with a dildo or some other inanimate object, and then fucking me with his own tool until his cum and tension drained away; and with me going from pleading and resistance to acceptance and hot desire.

After several weeks, I felt I controlled him enough to tell him about Donatien's coven and suggesting that the vice squad should bust up that operation.

"I wish," he murmured to me as we lay, spent beside each other and he stroked my nipples through a ripped T-shirt and pushing the flash light off the bed that he'd used to plow me before fucking me with his own dick. "We know about that operation, but someone in the mayor's office is protecting it. We haven't been able to make a move on it. I'd love to initiate that. It would make my career."

"But you'd move if the mayor's office OKed the raid?" I asked, my hand cuddling and lightly rolling his balls.

"Oh Gawd, oh Gawd," he whimpered under my touch. "Yes, certainly we'd take them down immediately." And all other conversation was then suspended, as he rolled over on top of me, grabbed my wrists in his strong hands and pushed them over my head, and entered my ass again roughly with his cock. He was wearing a cock ring with studs around it, and I moaned in appreciation as they did a friction dance on my asshole rim.

As much as he was pleasuring me, I was able even then to begin planning anew my vengeance against the coven.