DeVante's Coven (23 page)

Then the croaking whisper of the first man, the scary one with the huge cock, and Tony froze. “Randy,” it was a greeting. “Making the boy work, I see.”

The hands in Tony’s hair stilled, but instead of pushing Tony away, they just held him in place. Tony had never had an experience where pleasure was interrupted with conversation. This whole scene was very strange.

The harsh voice said, “Play with him if you want. I’m going to fuck his ass. You can prepare him for me.” The laugh that followed was a cackle.

The hands moved from Tony’s hair to his face and stroked his cheek. “Oh, geez, Callum, why do you want to do that? You’ll hurt him. Let him do you with his mouth. I’m getting the best blow job of my life. The kid’s a pro.”

“
Play with him, R. Have fun. Don’t forget to kiss him goodbye.” The voice faded as if the man were walking away.

The man, Slim—except the other man called him Randy… So Randy. He pulled Tony to his feet and threw an arm across his shoulders and squeezed lightly, like half a hug. “You are good.” He sighed. “Well, the old man says he’s going to dick with you, so we’d better play along. Come on, boy.” Randy pulled him along, away from the sounds of sex. They left the carpeting and walked on tile so cold it felt wet. Randy didn’t take the leash and the cold links dangled and bounced against Tony’s stomach.

“
So that was the entertainment room, with the plush carpet and heated floor. We have entertainment about once a month. They don’t usually bring in boys, though. It will be interesting to see how many clubbies actually want a piece of you. Very interesting. The old man, well, I don’t know. I expect he brought you here just to show them how much he cares for convention. He’ll fuck you, then he’ll fuck one of the girls, and it’ll all be a demonstration that he can do whatever he wants to do without consequence or shame. I was giving him shit earlier—he’d never let a boy give him head. Especially not you. You’re too good. You’d get the power. Anyway. You probably know that giving head gives you the power. Turn right. Step up. Here we are.”

There was carpet under his feet again, but thin, barely warming. The man gave him a gentle push. “There’s a table over here. An exam table. Climb up.”

His voice was loud and close, like the inside of a very small room. It was cold and Tony felt his nipples tighten into hard nubs.

Randy’s hands guided Tony onto the table, urged him to lay down, smoothed his shoulders and limbs. Is he comforting me, Tony wondered? For what?

The table had cold vinyl cushioning. Mildly better than cold steel. Randy, of course, couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself.

“
Funny to have an exam table, hmm? Well, quite a few club members are doctors, you know, and I suppose it’s only natural that they want to play out some fantasies of their own.”

As he spoke, he gently fastened Tony’s wrists to something above his head. Tony didn’t even think to resist.

“
Here, scoot down a bit until your arms feel tight.” Hands weighted Tony’s shoulders and he obeyed. It was easy to obey while listening to the chatter, collecting information.

“
You sure are a pro at sucking dick.”

Tony smiled to himself remembering Randy’s long thin penis. The second oddest penis he’d ever encountered. Put two down for the memory book.

Randy just kept talking, “I hope you get a chance to tuck your head under my robe again before this night is over. But first we got to play this little game. Give me your foot, easy... there.”

Tony’s foot was hitched up and a soft tie wrapped around his ankle. Then his other foot was guided into similar position.

Fear coiled in his belly. He was on his back on an exam table, knees almost raised to his chest because his feet were positioned in stirrups like for a gynecological exam. Holy shit. Never in his wildest, sickest fantasies. “Wait—”

A slap across his mouth shut him up.

“
Shh.” Randy’s voice was still friendly, but firm. “You nuzzle up to the old man’s cock? You ain’t no innocent baby if you’re at this party, boy, no fooling me. And I saw him shove your face against his monster cock. You don’t want him coming for you cold, do you? So just shut up and play the game. You got a virgin asshole? Well, not after today, you don’t.” His tone softened, “But hey, this doesn’t have to be terrible. You’re a pretty one, and to be honest I don’t have a lot of occasion to gentle a boy. Just the wife, a girl here at the club now and again. This is a treat for me, as perverted as that sounds. But you know all about that, too, don’t you?”

Warm hands traced along his chest, moving the chain out of the way, but not removing it, the hands dropping to his stomach, dipping between his legs. Tony shivered as his blood warmed, rushed to his cock, tightened. He was so exposed, so open to harm. He thought it was only the opaque lenses in his eyes that kept him from screaming. Eyes wide open in the dark gave the whole situation a surreal feeling. Like a dream.

Randy’s voice soothed. “Relax, I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

Tony heard a snapping sound, and though he had never been in this position to hear that sound ever before, he knew it as the cuff of a latex glove snapping against a wrist. The sound repeated and for a minute he couldn’t breathe.

Hands touched him again, cool for a moment but quickly warming against his skin.

“
This will be cold.”

Oil, musk-scented, and indeed cold, dripped onto his abdomen, making his muscles spasm with shock. The hands smoothed the oil across his body, working it in, kneading. Up his chest, around his nipples, working gently over his ribs and forcefully across his shoulders. Tony felt tension seep out of each area, as if it were impossible to be afraid or to feel dread while the hands did their magic.

“
That’s better, pretty one, isn’t it?”

More oil. This time dropping directly onto his cock. He gasped. It slid down the shaft, along the crease of his thigh and beneath his balls. More, a steady stream, until it ran between his buttocks and Tony could feel it pool on the table beneath him, slick and warm. He shuddered. The smooth gloved hands slid along his cock like the warmth of a woman.

Tony felt his body reacting, pelvis lifting, straining, wanting more. Wanting to come. And that’s not what he was paid for. Not at all.

The finger of one hand rested just outside his asshole. It tickled. The other hand worked his cock, smoothing from base to tip and back, an oily hand-job. It felt incredibly great. Tony moaned. He felt mild pressure against his anus as the hand-job grew warmer, more intense. He moaned again, out loud, and wasn’t slapped.

“
Relax. Feel good. There we go.”

Randy’s voice was ultra-soft. Coaxing.

With a sigh Tony gave up expectation, gave up fear, and stopped thinking altogether.

The finger slid deep inside his ass. Tony groaned, unsure if the sensation was good or bad. The hand-job ceased as the fingers of the pleasure-giving hand clamped around the base of his penis, digging in, stopping any possibility of ejaculation. “Don’t come. Not yet. I take it you don’t make a habit of letting people in here.”

Tony was still, impaled on the one lone finger, not in pain, but terrified anyway. “Never,” he said out loud, “never,” and felt tears in his eyes. Help, help, help. The word started repeating itself over and over in his mind. He wished Randy would talk, resume the pleasurable stroking, something. Sucking cock was… something different. A skill. This was invasion. He squeezed the muscles of his rectum against the invading finger.

“
Whoa. Stay relaxed, boy, we’re just beginning.”

Tony knew a fear like he’d never known before. He’d always been in control at the friend’s brother’s parties. He’d always had the ability to just walk out. Now he was sinking, drowning, he was trapped here, helpless, tied to this table.

He flipped out.

He pushed his feet against the stirrups and arched his body above the table, pushing himself away, away from Randy, away from the invasive finger that raped him. He screamed.

The finger withdrew instantly.

A door slammed.

Tony stopped screaming and there was silence.

“
Are you done?” Randy’s voice. “Because we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

Tony lay there gasping, feeling sweat on his brow.

A soft cloth touched his face, wiped the sweat away. “Give up. Put yourself in my hands and trust me. Yes, I like touching you.” His hands trailed down Tony’s oiled body. Down, down, until they brushed his cock, cupped his balls, slid between his ass cheeks. Again one finger slipped into his ass. It went in easily. “I like invading you.” And it felt warm and wet and okay. As if it belonged there, as if it were wanted. Randy’s soft voice played over Tony’s senses. “That wasn’t a scream of pain. But believe me it will be if the old man comes for you five minutes from now.”

One finger became two. Two became Randy’s long slim cock. Tony wanted to die, to cry, to hurt. But Randy was gentle, his cock smooth, and this became a new pleasure that took him to an orgasm unlike any other.

“
Just the beginning, boy,” Randy’s voice promised. “Just the beginning.”

Tony’s brain shut down then, and he could almost hear the sound of locks clicking closed on his memory. But he had two names… Slim was Randy, and the guy he and Roderick looked for was Callum. It had to be better than nothing.

At least when Roderick came back, Tony could give him some names.

Chapter 27



How to find a boy

Reed stared after Daniel, sure he’d seen both blood and terror on the boy’s face. Shit. Leonard had cut him. His stomach twisted as he realized he should have stopped his game and taken hold of the boy the moment he saw the flirtatious dance. Leonard had a reputation for cutting on his tricks.

He had thought Daniel would accept his warning, be smart. Now he realized that issuing the warning probably made up Daniel’s mind to leave with Leonard. Just for spite. Fuckin’ kid.

It hadn’t occurred to Reed to think like a teenager, to remember how it felt to have grown-ups tell him what to do. He was a stupid ass for forgetting. He should have told Daniel to go with Leonard, have a great time. Then the kid would have been safe, in fact maybe Reed would be fucking him right now, rather than staring down the street with an ugly knot in his stomach.

He forced himself to breathe. The kid could run. He’d sprinted past Reed like a frightened deer. And if he could run like that, then Reed knew he wasn’t hurt. Much. But… there had been blood on his face, a lot of it, and the visual of the blood and the terror he’d seen in Daniel’s eyes as he bolted out the door, sprang up every time Reed blinked.

He suddenly realized he didn’t know where Daniel lived. It was something he’d never asked, never really given it any real thought. Daniel was always clean, well-groomed and adorable, so it was obvious to Reed that he had somewhere to stay. But now he wished he’d given the kid a ride home at least once, that he’d been more curious about where Daniel went off to, always before dawn. Where Daniel might be when he wasn’t at ‘Teasers or with Reed. He thought about going back to ‘Teasers to ask around, see if any of the twinks knew where Daniel lived, but it had been last call when he’d realized Daniel had left the club, and it would be shut down for the night by now.

He sighed and went home. But didn’t sleep. Couldn’t sleep. He found himself wondering if Daniel needed stitches, if Daniel would even realize it if he did. Wondering if there’d be a scar, and if it would haunt Reed every time he looked at the boy, like a ghost of regret.

He was at ‘Teasers by eight o’clock the next night, prowling the club looking for Daniel, keeping an eye on the door, scanning the crowd for bright blond hair, and kicking himself for not bothering to know more about Daniel’s daytime life.

By midnight he knew Daniel wasn’t going to show.

So he started talking to the twinks, describing Daniel, hoping to recognize someone he’d seen Daniel talking to. Forty-five minutes later he hit pay dirt. A guy and a girl (a straight couple at ‘Teasers?), goth kids he’d seen Daniel talking to, knew exactly who Reed was asking about. The male said yeah, he knew Daniel, and leaned close to speak into Reed’s ear. The kid had a dozen wire-thin rings piercing his upper lip and Reed swore he felt them brushing his ear lobe and shivered. Gross. But the kid was saying something about an after-hours party, and even though he was shouting right into Reed’s ear to be heard above the dance mix, Reed still didn’t catch it all.

“What?” he shouted back. “Where?” The kid shrugged and dug into the pocket of the silver-studded leather jacket he wore. He withdrew some kind of paper and handed it to Reed.

It was slightly larger than a business card, plain white cardstock, and printed in black letters outlined in red.
You are invited to Daniel’s after hours party, any night, every night
.
Some set-ups provided, bring your own liquor.
An address, but no phone number. Daniel’s address.

Reed pocketed the invitation and gestured his thanks to the couple. Scary-looking, he thought as he left the club. But at least they were helpful.

***