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 or stretching as mine had been. I was almost sorry to see him pull those jeans back over those plump orbs of his and slip out into the night.
In the subsequent weeks, 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 after my plowing by Thomas and company 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 inside 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.
