vampire boy

The Vampire's Boy

THE VAMPIRE’S BOY

A Story Set in a Gothic World

Chapter One: Duncan and His Master

Duncan’s lean, naked body tensed for a moment, his muscles aching to stretch in the restraints that almost completely limited the boy’s movements. His eighteen year old body hung suspended in the complicated system of leather rings, harnesses and pulleys that held him in crucifix position between floor, ceiling and wall.

The chamber that his Master had shackled him in was not a particularly gloomy one, not considering some of the rooms in the ancient castle. Three of the walls were covered with ornate tapestries whose elaborately embroidered scenes would rival even the best pornographic artist. Duncan could not turn his head, but he had been staring at the tapestry opposite his bound body for hours. It showed a fair boy, perhaps a few years old than himself and naked like himself, bound to a wooden table. The boy ‘s arms were torturously stretched over his head by ropes bound around his wrist and affixed to a large wheel. The boy’s legs were similarly constrained and pulled. The wheels of the rack were manned by large naked men, their hairy bodies glistening with sweat and their embroidered faces bearing cruel expressions of sadism and lust.

A third man bent over the boy. He was not naked. His chest was bare, but he wore tight black leggings and a cape that had been thrown back by the artist so as not to obscure his wonderful musculature. He was as dark as the tortured boy was fair, with long, wavy hair that fell over his bared shoulders. He was not as hairy as the burly torturers,but the artist had worked in curly black hair on the chest and even elaborately stitched hair on the arm that reached forward toward the area between the tortured boy’s legs.

He stood near the boy’s head, and leaned forward to gaze directly into the tormented boy’s face. The dark one’s face was smiling knowingly as though he had a secret that only he and the boy shared. The arm that was extended held the boy’s erect penis in its fist. He was clearly masturbating the boy. The boy on the rack gazed upward and, here, the artist had done an amazing job in rendering the boy’s expression. As he gazed into the eyes of the man who pleasured him, even as he was torn on the rack, the boy had an expression of ecstasy on his face.

To the side of the tapestry, which did not quite cover the full expanse of stone wall, was a wooden door attached to the wall with elaborately carved brass hinges. Each hinge had a dragon’s head and the dragons seemed to writhe into life as the door was opened.

A Man stepped into the chamber.

The boy would have liked to call out to the Man, but the leather strap bound around his mouth made that impossible.

The Man strode into the room and smiled at the boy. He turned to the tapestry that the boy had been staring at and his lips parted into a smile. White teeth gleamed in the almost preternaturally handsome face. It was hard to gauge the Man’s age; perhaps he was thirty years old or thirty five. He was tall and lean and his magnificent body, bare to the waist, was finely muscled. He seemed sculpted from human material and, as all sculpted things are, ageless

The Man ran his fine, strong, long-fingered hand over his own bare chest, the curling black hairs springing under his touch. His high black boots carried him toward the boy.

"Admiring that old picture, my boy," the Man said. It was not a question. One hand reached out and gently pushed back the boy’s damp brown hair which fell over his forehead. "I’ll cut this for you later," the Man said. "Or perhaps I should shave you, as bare and sweet as a babe. I shall see."

He reached up and gripped the boy’s right arm. It was pulled up and back, as was the other arm, to form the upper part of an X. The leather bands on the boy’s wrists were attached to cables that lifted the boy off the ground and were affixed to iron pulleys in the ceiling. The boy’s legs, similarly, were forced apart and back and manacled by leather at the ankle. Cables extended from the ankle straps to rings in the floor.

The boy would indeed have suffered much the same agony as any victim of crucifixion save for several differences. He was not affixed by nails, and he did not bear his weight unassisted. A cleverly constructed strap encircled the boy’s trim waist and, like the wrist and ankle bands, this was attached to the walls by cables. Further pressure was relieved by small straps at the knees and elbows which connected to those at the waist, wrists and ankles. Even so, the position was not a comfortable one and the boy’s body had hung suspended for several hours.

Duplicating the Man in the tapestry, the boy’s Master reached out toward the boy’s penis. His fingers did not, however, close on that shaft, but closed around the boy’s scrotum. Just as his body was imprisoned, so was his sex. A leather sheath was wrapped around the length of the boy’s cock just tightly enough to keep it engorged and hard. The end of the leather cock band, which came to just below the mushroom head, had a tiny steel ring in it and this was cabled to a ring in the floor about five feet from the boy. Thus the boy’s penis was forced to be hard and was pulled out from his body and held in place.

Coiled bands of flexible metal had been wound around the boy’s scrotum so that his balls were quite distended. The metal coils had a cable running down from them that hooked into the floor just below the boy.

The dark-haired man’s long hair fell over his shoulder as he leaned closer to the boy’s face. The boy on the rack could turn his head, but this boy could not. The leather band around his mouth was another fetter. Like all the other bands on the boy’s body, this had tiny rings that attached to cables. The cables that ran from the gag attached to the lines coming from the boy’s wrists and prevented him from moving his head even a fraction of an inch.

The dark Man twisted his head around and pressed his dark lips against the gag, just as though he were actually kissing the boy’s mouth. Despite the barrier that prevented actual contact, the bound boy felt an electric tingle race through his body. His arms and legs seemed to be pulled even tauter and his throbbing dick swelled within its leather sheathing. The hand that was not holding the boy’s scrotum continued to stroke the boy’s hair, the long fingers running through the brown locks. Suddenly, the Man twisted his hand so that he took hold of a great handful of the boy’s hair. He pulled it hard, hard, so that tears filled the boy’s eyes.

The Man made a low, growling noise in his throat and his lips curled into a snarl.

"Duncan!" the Man growled. "Duncan, you are a beautiful boy. A beautiful boy. And I love to hurt you.......and to pleasure you!"

The Man’s nails racked over Duncan’s balls and the boy whimpered beneath his gag. The Man released the boy’s hair and dropped down to a crouch. He gracefully slid below the boy’s suspended body so that his head was below the boy’s testicles. He turned his strong face upward and his tongue curled out of his mouth and began lapping at the distended nut sac. Again Duncan could be heard whining from beneath his gag.

The tongue, which seemed unbelievably long, caressed the boy’s balls and covered them with saliva. Duncan’s imprisoned penis trembled and its mushroom head went from pink to crimson. The tiny mouth opened and a drop of precum glistened.

As the Man continued to lick the boy’s balls, one of his fingers began stroking the tip of the boy’s penis, spreading the drop of precum all around the mushroom head. Duncan’s eyes rolled upward as he strained for release that he could not achieve in the position he was in.

This went on for several agonizingly exquisite minutes and then the Man withdrew from below the boy.

"That’s enough of that," the Man said harshly. "After all,we must remember that you are being punished, my boy. PUNISHED!!" He said the word luxuriously, as though it were simultaneously the most awful and most wonderful word imaginable.

"It was very naughty of you to try and find a way out of the castle, Duncan....and foolish. My people are all about and the gypsies who bring us your food always have a few burly men standing guard in case anyone attempts to break in.....or break out."

The Man walked to the wall behind Duncan, but he raised his voice, so the boy would still hear him clearly. The chamber was made out of stone and the acoustics were difficult.

I have told my men that they may feel free to punish you whenever they feel it is merited. "You may have a free hand in his discipline," I told them. "But you must never harm him, never break his skin, his bones, or his body....only his disobedient spirit. But you may hurt him. Hurt him so that he learns to obey. What is that saying, so popular in your country? Oh yes, ‘When buns burn, sons learn!’ The Man laughed with enjoyment. "A wonderful saying. I have given my men such implements as may be rigorously employed upon your firm, beautiful ‘buns,’ so they will indeed burn." The Man was behind the boy now and caressed the part of his body he was referring to.

"Now I, your Master, your surrogate Father, will cause your young buns to burn." Abruptly, a whip was thrust around into Duncan’s line of vision. It had a short thick wooden handle from which six, two-inch wide leather strips hung. Each strip was about ten inches long.

"Daddy is going to spank you," the Man said. There was no trace of mockery in the statement. It was said seriously and sternly. "And when he is done, all will be forgiven. But, my dear sweet son, Daddy will not be done for a long, long time."

The Man moved behind the boy and began.

(to be continued)

THE VAMPIRE’S BOY

A Story Set in a Gothic World

Chapter Two: A Dark Pleasure

Duncan would have given much to cry out as his Master wielded his leather whip across the boy’s bare bottom. Each time that the whip was drawn back and then lashed across Duncan’s immobilized buttocks, it made a sound like "WHUP!" and caused an intense burning sting that seemed to travel from his backside down his legs and up his spinal column.

Although Duncan could only look forward, at the embroidered picture of the blond boy on the rack, he had a clear mental image of his Master behind him. Perhaps Master Alexei had given him that image, just as he often sent him the dreams that he wanted his boy to have. The dreams could be wonderful, so beautiful that Duncan awoke weeping, or terrible beyond human imagining. Like everything else, the dreams could be used to pleasure or punish the boy.

Tirelessly, for the Master’s body was not subject to fatigue the way other men’s were, Alexei swung his whip across the boy’s reddened buttocks. Broad stripes of darker hue crisscrossed the tight, clenched cheeks and wrapped around his hips and thighs. The lithe leather strips curled beautifully and frequently, in the skilled hand of the whip-master, found their way between Duncan’s cheeks to punish the tiny orifice within.

Tears spilled out of Duncan’s eyes which alternately squeezed shut or gaped wide.

"You......must.....never.....ever......do anything......without my permission," Alexei said, whipped the boy ceaselessly. "Or I will have to spank you very severely, my son." The Master’s leather whip wrapped around the upper part of Duncan’s legs and the boy’s body vibrated in its restraints. Again and again, the Master whipped the boy’s legs before returning to the prime target and lashing those strong, firm cheeks dozens and dozens of times.

The wide leather strips would never break the skin, but the pain they produced was quite profound. Duncan had only been ‘whipped’ once before, and he swore if he survived this torment that he would do his best to make sure it never, never happened again. Even as he thought this, he knew that preventing a whipping would not be within his control. Master Alexei had countless ways to ‘punish’ his boy, but if he wanted to whip Duncan, he would do so.

Duncan’s naked body dripped with sweat as he continued to endure his chastisement. How long would Master beat him, spank him, as He had put it? How long?!

"I.....I...can’t take any more!" the crucified boy screamed silently.

Master Alexei whipped Duncan for another hour. Once he paused and slipped the whip into the belt of his skin-tight leather britches. He took his own hands and ran them down the boy’s arms and legs, wiping the sweat from them. Then he had held the boy’s tortured face in both hands and, once again, pressed his dark full lips to the leather gag. As the lips pressed against the leather, Master Alexei hands reach around and cruelly kneaded the crimson, striped buttocks he had lashed so unmercifully. They were fiery hot and Duncan felt dizzy with pain, and thought he might faint, when his Master clenched his buttocks in both fists and squeezed and squeezed and squeezed.

Then the Master released the boy’s backside and almost slid down his body to the floor. The fingers, as strong as steel and as supple as water, undid the leather sheath that was wrapped around Duncan’s penis and peeled it off. The boy’s cock had not gone limp during the whipping, instead the sheath had kept it hard and the veins that curled around it were swollen with blood.

Master Alexei’s long tongue lapped the boy’s erection and caressed it like the finest sweet ever known. The dark lips closed around the throbbing penis and Alexei sucked on it languorously. Duncan shut his eyes and trembled in his restraints. His head pounded and, in seconds, he was as sweat-covered as he had been a minute before.

For several minutes, Alexei’s mouth sucked on Duncan’s cock. He sucked it into his mouth and worked it as though it had been an enormous nipple and he was striving to bring forth rich cream. Then, as the boy was about to cum, Alexei stopped sucking the penis and threw his head back, his mouth stretching impossibly wide. From the top and bottom of his jaws, the Man’s canines suddenly elongated into graceful, needle-sharp fangs. Then, with the practice of a connoisseur, those four sickle-teeth closed on the boy’s penis and pierced through to the engorged veins.

Sweet, hot blood filled Alexei’s mouth and he suckled in earnest. After the first piercing agony, when the teeth penetrated the hyper-tender skin of his cock, Duncan commenced breathing with quick snorting breathes through his nose. His chest rose and fell as though he could not get enough air. At the same time, the burning pain of the ‘bite’ changed into a narcotic of ecstasy as Alexei’s saliva intermingled with the blood in Duncan’s veins....and the boy came. This was not the orgasm that humans normally experience; this was a completely different level of climax. It was deeper, richer longer and much, much more explosive. Even the restraints could not contain the tremors that went through Duncan’s whole body as it spasmed and jettisoned sperm. Not once, but several times. And during the duration of this incredible ecstasy, Alexei sucked and swallowed the juices that caused him to shudder and orgasm.

Then it was done, and Alexei withdrew. As was always the case when the Master fed, and Duncan experienced the orgasm that came with that act, when it was over, Duncan felt completely unfulfilled. It was a terrible trade-off. The powerful climax, beyond anything that ordinary humans could experience, did not leave him beautifully drugged and exhausted; it left him rampant and dissatisfied.

Perhaps, Alexei felt the same frustration, because he licked the last drops of blood from his lips and rose up from between the boy’s legs with a look of fury on his magnificent face that terrified Duncan.

"You are a bad, wicked boy," Alexei snarled, showing his teeth. They were pearly white again, with no trace of his recent feast. The sharp canines had retracted and the splendid mouth appeared normal once more. Alexei took hold of Duncan’s hair in his fist once again and almost tore it out in his rage. "A bad, wicked BOY!" he roared. He had the whip out of his belt in a second and without releasing his grip on Duncan’s hair commenced whipping the boy’s backside with a vengeance.

WHUP! WHUP! WHUP! WHUP! WHUP!

Duncan’s transfixed buttocks turned from crimson to purple and then, after fifteen grueling minutes, the boy’s central nervous system reached its maximum level of tolerance for the pain and Duncan fell into merciful unconsciousness.

(to be continued)

THE VAMPIRE’S BOY

A Story Set in a Gothic World

Chapter Three: Duncan and the Gypsies

Duncan awoke to sensation!

He had been taken down from the restraints and was lying on a wooden table in the great kitchen of the castle. He was still in cruciform position.

Seven gypsies were with him in the room. They were all dark and extremely hairy. Four of them wore full beards and three had heavy black moustaches that grew down the sides of their mouths.

Duncan had been placed, face down, on the wooden table that was used for preparing meat! Beneath his naked body, he could feel that rough wood which had been marred by ages of chopping.

Two of the gypsies held Duncan’s wrists and two of them held his ankles. They held his arms and feet in the same, familiar "X" that the restraints had forced him into in the tapestry chamber.

Looking up at the gypsies that held his wrists, Duncan saw that the were grinning at him. They pulled his wrists so that his arms stretched uncomfortably and he groaned a little. One of the gypsies said something in his own language and the other laughed. A fifth man was rubbing Duncan’s body with some sort of grease. It smelled horrible, but it’s benefits were unmistakable; Duncan had experienced it before. Whatever its healing properties were, they were immediate. The fifth gypsy came around to Duncan’s head and showed him the tin pail with the foul smelling, greenish paste in it. He thrust the pail toward Duncan’s nose and the boy tried to turn his head away. He couldn’t ; he was held too tightly against the table.

The fifth gypsy scooped out a handful of the goo and still looking at Duncan, plopped it on his buttocks. The gypsies holding his ankles tugged them even further apart and the odorous mess dripped between his cheeks. The gypsy smiled and ran his hand, which was still coated with the ointment through Duncan’s hair. He rubbed it in roughly and the four gypsies that held Duncan chuckled. Duncan could see that they had opened the slit in their baggy trousers and their engorged cocks stood out of them, they trembled with excitement and the tips were vermilion.

The fifth gypsy continued greasing Duncan’s hair and the boy, who was no longer gagged, whimpered, "Please, don’t!"

Again there was laughter and the fifth gypsy said, in a deep heavily accented voice, "You were bad boy. The Master punish you hard. Now, we fix you! You don’t like it?"

"It...it smells," Duncan whined.

More laughter.

"You like this?" the fifth gypsy asked kindly.

His hand slid along Duncan’s swollen backside, so discolored from whipping that it was nearly black. However, as the gypsy’s hand rubbed in the foul-smelling salve the darkness began to lighten. The gypsy’s fingers, touching the beaten skin and muscles were excruciating and Duncan cried out and started to sob.

The fifth gypsy smirked and ran his finger deep into Duncan’s skin and down into the space between his bottom cheeks. The rough fingers sought out and found Duncan’s small orifice and the ointment was rubbed and rubbed into the boy’s rectum.

Duncan moaned but his penis stirred beneath him, growing big and pressing against the hard wood of the table. One of the gypsy’s fingers, thick and hairy, pressed against the boy’s anus and the sphincter relaxed. The fingers twisted and forced its way into the boy.

"Aaaah!" Duncan moaned, as the gypsy continued to twist his finger deeper and deeper into him. "Uuuuh!"

The gypsy moved away from Duncan’s line of vision, so he could really attend to the task at hand. While one of his hands, continued to kneed the spanked cheeks of Duncan’s naked backside, the other hand continued to drill away at the boy’s anus. The first finger had gained full entry and was pressing in and out of the boy. Duncan twisted in his captor’s hairy arms as he was expertly finger-fucked.

Slowly, the gypsy slid his finger out, but in the next second he reentered with two fingers. Duncan gasped and writhed on the table. The two fingers twisted and dug and slid and probed internally. Meanwhile, the greenish ointment had done it miraculous, if vile-smelling, work. Duncan’s bottom had faded, even as the gypsy raped him with his fingers, from the discoloration of intense bruising to the pale, untouched skin that had first been placed in presentation for the Master’s pleasure.

The fifth gypsy retracted the two fingers and Duncan groaned with frustration; he had been so close to real release. Then, the gypsy appeared at his side again with his tin pail. He held the pail out and Duncan looked first at the pail then at the man. The face, etched in a black curling beard split with a smile. The gypsy held up the two fingers that had been used to rape Duncan. Then, the gypsy frowned, folded the two fingers into a hairy fist and held the fist upward. Then, in a gesture that spoke volumes, the man plunged the fist deep into the pail. Duncan cried out as the gypsy withdrew his hand from the pail; it was thickly coated with ointment up to the wrist. The other gypsies howled with laughter and strengthened their hold on the frantically writhing, crying Duncan as their fellow moved back behind the boy.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Master had never given the gypsies permission to pleasure themselves with Duncan, but they did it anyway. The boy was sufficiently afraid of them so that he would never tell; besides he didn’t know that the Master hadn’t allowed them such freedom. After all, Master Alexei enjoyed watching Duncan be punished almost as much as he enjoyed punishing the boy himself. He had often sat in his throne, after summoning one of his burly servitors, and instructed him as to how the boy was to be punished. Punishment might be as simply as having a gypsy strip the boy, put him over his lap and administer a long, blistering hand spanking. Master Alexei loved watching Duncan cry over the thick knees of a gypsy. He always insisted that the boy be completely naked for his spanking and that the gypsy strip to the waist. The contrast between the smooth naked boy, and the heavily muscled, heavily furred gypsy was delightfully erotic. Master Alexei liked to watch the thick, broad gypsy palm slapping Duncan’s backside.

"Harder!" the Master would snarl. And the gypsy would bear down and wallop the boy until he flailed helplessly on the man’s lap.

"Open him and spank inside?" Alexei would order, and the gypsy would push Duncan’s legs apart, elevate his bottom and spank the boy’ exposed rectum as long and as ferociously as the Master wanted.

There were many other punishments including the fifteen foot cross in the castle courtyard. Duncan had only been placed on that once!

The kitchen had been a scene of rollicking fun for the gypsies and sweaty labor and painful pleasure for Duncan. The seven men had all wanted a turn and Duncan had sobbed his way through their tearing fists and their ointment coated, bloated cocks. The gypsies were lusty fellows and could fuck a boy all day long.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was hours later that three of the gypsies carried Duncan up to the metal tub filled with warm soapy water and luxuriously soaped him and rinsed him many times. Their hands, which could be so rough, could also be very gentle and Duncan had enjoyed his bath. The gypsies had been so thorough in their ministrations to the backside, cock and balls that Duncan had thought sure that they would wind up mounting him again, but they didn’t have time. The Master wanted to see the boy in his throne room.

(to be continued)

THE VAMPIRE’S BOY

A Story Set in a Gothic World

Chapter Four: History and Bait

Master Alexei sat in the center of the high vaulted room in the heavily ornate throne that had been carved from the twisted trunk of a lightning blighted great oak. The arms of the throne writhed with carved serpent and the back of the throne rose eight feet in the air and fanned out like the spread wings of a bat.

"Come, come my son, and sit on my lap," Master Alexei said. His voice was low and gentle.

Duncan approached his Master without hesitation. He knew, from experience, that any hesitancy to obey his Master could result in punishment.

The gypsies, when they had finally finished ‘bathing’ Duncan, had dressed him in pale, blue silk. He wore pantaloons that fitted firmly at the waist but ballooned out after that until they gathered again at the ankles. His shirt was similarly designed, except that it had a high collar that fastened with three tiny buttons down the length of Duncan’s neck. It had wrist gathers and fell only to the bottom of Duncan’s rib cage. The Master liked the boy’s midsection to be exposed. Similarly, the boy wore no undergarments and the silk was quite transparent; Master Alexei never allowed Duncan’s body to be hidden. Similarly, as per the Master’s orders, Duncan wore nothing on his feet .

Alexei held out his arms and drew Duncan onto his lap, he pressed the boy’s head down against his chest with one hand, while the other was lovingly thrown across the boy’s thighs, gathering him close to his body.

The Master gently kissed the top of his boy’s head.

"How old do I look to you, my son?" the Master asked.

Duncan was so soothed by his Master’s gentle touch that he had almost begun to drowse. He cuddled closer and said, "You look young, Master, very young, perhaps twenty-eight or thirty years old."

Alexei laughed and it sounded like crystal being struck.

"I have been alive for more than twenty centuries," Master Alexei said. "More than 2000 years. In my mind is a panoply of all that constitutes your civilized world, but I do not come from a civilized world. I come from a primitive world." The Master kissed his boy’s head again and, this time, his lips lingered there and Duncan felt the familiar electric thrill.

"In my world we were all either hunters or prey. What was I, boy?"

"A hunter," Duncan replied.

"Yessss!" Master Alexei hissed. "A hunter! Thus have I survived. Now I train you to be a Hunter, but to understand how to hunt, you must also understand how to be hunted. I was hunted by one far older than myself: hunted, caught, and kept!"

Master Alexei took Duncan’s chin and tipped his head so that he could look into the boy’s eyes.

"You may think that I am a harsh Master, my punishments severe, but you have no idea how my Master made me suffer. It was a different time and sensibilities were undeveloped. I was trained with whip, with knife and with fire. My Master knew the arcane arts so that skillfully severed fingers and ears could be restored. Ah yes, they could be restored, but at what suffering....you cannot even imagine.

‘But my Master also knew pleasure and gave me such pleasures as I give you, perhaps not as great.....he was one for whom pain was the greatest pleasure.

‘I, however, was not a connoisseur of suffering and eventually gained my freedom."

"Where is your Master now?" Duncan asked.

"He lives still, perhaps," Master Alexei said, his voice oddly distant. "And do you know, my son, despite all the suffering, and even after his kiss brought the great change, I still miss him. But I could not stay with him. Once the great change happens, and the training is complete, then a Hunter must move on to command his own life."

Duncan wanted to ask his Master when this would happen to him, but he feared the answer as much as he longed to know it.

Alexei seemed removed for a moment and then Duncan felt his hands caressing him once more and the boy sighed. Alexei pulled apart the wide colored blouse he had put on so that he powerful chest was bared. He drew Duncan’s head down to one of his dark nipples.

"Here my son, I offer you the nourishment that comes with the great change. Drink deeply and prepare yourself for your time of change."

Duncan now slid from his Master’s lap and knelt between his legs. His lips closed on one of Master Alexei’s nipples. They were thick and large and went into the boy’s mouth like the nipple on a baby’s bottle. Master Alexei cupped Duncan’s head as the boy suckled. First there was nothing, then it came, thin, then thick. The musky tasting manmilk that the vampire’s body produced to feed his boy. Duncan had vomited the first time he had tasted it, but Alexei had made the boy drink until he vomited no more. Now, Duncan had grown to love his Master’s milk.

"When you have filled your body with my strength," Alexei said, "you will be taken down to the valley by one of my men. There you will procure three, not less, young men who will return here with you. I do not have to tell you how to do this, for that part of your training is already complete.

‘I do not have to tell you about caution. The young men will not return, nor will they change. Later, perhaps tomorrow, I will punish you for doing what I have ordered, so that you will have no guilt. You can expect the punishment to be quite severe. After all, three young men will loses their lives!"

Duncan heard his Master’s words, but he was so deeply enjoying the drug-like sensations of the manmilk as it coursed through his body that the thought of punishment did not worry him.....for the present.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The three young men were from the local college and they had come to the bar to drink, swagger, swear and find something to fuck. If all else failed, they would fuck each other.

One of the young men was red-headed with a short curly beard on his chin. He was short and muscularly stocky with a baby face despite the little beard. His companions were blond and dark. The blond was a Nordic giant who wore a full beard on his youthful face. He had a black cigar in his teeth and puffed out clouds of unaromatic smoke.

The dark-haired young man was an athlete with an athlete’s body. He grunted through two grueling hours of weights each day and had the bodily rewards that his efforts had produced. He had accepted one of the blond’s cigars and chewed it ferociously.

All three men were as randy as hell, and if something didn’t happen soon, the dark and the blond would rape the shit out of the redhead.

Through the smoke and beer atmosphere, Duncan suddenly appeared. All three men were riveted to him immediately.

Master Alexei had ordered one of the gypsies to dress Duncan for the occasion. The boy had been stripped by the gypsy and then redressed, all before Alexei’s throne. He had enjoyed the scene very much. Especially since he had requested that the gypsy not re-dress Duncan until he had placed the boy in his lap and beautifully reddened his backside.

"Slowly," Alexei had ordered the gypsy. "Spank him slowly, so that we can all enjoy the gradual change in color, and do not neglect the inside!"

The gypsy hadn’t neglected anything, and Duncan had been held on his lap until his backside had produced a shade of crimson that Master Alexei pronouned, "Perfection!"

Then the sobbing boy had been zippered into white trousers that were two sizes too tight. With no underwear, Duncan’s cock, balls and buttocks were tightly sheathed and outlined by the white material.

He wore only a simple armless undershirt on top which also displayed his lovely torso to perfection. Sandals were produced for his feet and, finally, one ornament - an earring placed in one ear. Master Alexei had personally pierced Duncan’s ears the day he had ‘adopted’ the boy. Duncan had screamed and begged for an anesthetic or, at least, ice, but the Master had only laughed, held the boy’s head in his lap, and run the sharp silver needle through one ear lobe and then the next. Alexei had sucked the drops of blood that the piercing had produced and enjoyed his first taste of his son very much.

Now, the boy made his way up to the bar and ordered a beer. Duncan was completely aware of all the attention he held. His eyes moved around the crowd with his Master’s instructions informing his eyes.

Before he spotted them, however, the three spotted Duncan. It was the blond giant who rose from the table and moved in.

The blond’s approach was unsubtle. Duncan’s behind was firmly palmed and a cloud of cigar smoke was breathed around his head.

"You are fucking beautiful," the Blond said. "You know that? Do you?"

Duncan tried to turn to look at the speaker, the hand that wasn’t probing his ass was slipped around his waist. Duncan was pulled up against the front of the blond.

"Do you want to see what I look like, champie, is that what you’re trying to do? Well, tell me first how you like this!"

Somehow, the blond managed to wedge his hand down the back of Duncan’s tight pants so that his great hand could fondle the boy’s bare bottom.

"No underwear!" the Blond chortled. "Well, well, well! Now, there’s a message if there ever was one." The hand slipped down as far as it could and the blond nearly split Duncan’s pants achieving a handful of the boy’s balls. A lot of customers were being treated to a very interesting show.

"How’s that, love? How’s that feel?"

"Oh," Duncan moaned, he didn’t need to act, "it feels good, but not here! Please."

"I’ve got two pals," the Blond whispered in Duncan’s ear. His lips were almost in the boy’s ear and Duncan was not surprised when a tongue started licking.

"That’s wonderful," Duncan said. "I’m so hot that I don’t think I could be satisfied with less."

It was that easy.

Soon, four young men climbed into the long black limousine that waited in the foggy street outside the bar. They were properly impressed by the car, and the bar inside, and were soon so intoxicated with alcohol and each other that they scarsely noticed that the car was moving.

The gypsy-driver had all he could do to keep his eyes on the road. The backseat was far more interesting. The boys had all pulled their pants down as soon as possible, and they had all completely stripped the redhead before the blond and the dark-haired young man stripped Duncan. Mouths, hands and asses were worked hard and a heavy, male smell permeated the leather upholstery of the car and the air inside.

The gypsy driver opened his pants and worked himself until he came all down his leg; he would have started all over again - so stimulating was the rear action - except that they had arrived at their destination.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Holy Shit!" the Red-Head had said, when they finally emerged from the limousine. "You live here?!"

Duncan nodded.

"I’m adopted," he said, "this is my father’s house. C’mon, it’s really neat, we’ve got all kinds of rooms.....including a torture chamber."

The dark boy’s eyes lit up and he caught the redhead in a headlock. "Yeah, let’ take Tyler to the torture chamber and whip him."

The Blond guffawed. "Yeah, then I’ll whip you, Housman. I’ll whip the skin off your behind!"

"I’d rather you sucked it off," Housman laughed. And all four young men swaggered into the great doors of the castle.

(to be continued)

THE VAMPIRE’S BOY

A Story Set in a Gothic World

Chapter Five: Eternity

Housman, Tyler and the Blond boy, whose name was never known to Duncan or Alexei, all made it to the torture chamber. They laughed their way down a stone stairwell gropping each other, swearing and now-and-again stopping to expose various private parts of their bodies.

Housman and the Blond boy wanted to fuck Duncan on the stairs while Tyler sucked him off; they promised Tyler that they would double-end him for his trouble, but Duncan pursuaded them to wait.

"There’s lots of intersting apparatus to play with down there," Duncan said. "There’s an old headstock mounted on a base." He turned to the redhead and grinned playfully. "We can put Tyler into naked." Duncan rubbed the red head’s hair. "Your head is locked in the stocks and there are straps for your feet that spread them wide apart. Your hands go in wrist bonds and they’re drawn up behind you."

"Whoa, yeah!" the Blond said impressed. "Tyler goes into the headstock and then I ream his ass out from behind.

"And I suck his little dick from the front," Housman offered.

"And you can’t do anything about it, Tyler," the Blond said. He slapped Tyler’s face playfully and the redhead threw a punch that didn’t connect.

"There’s a lot of stuff down there," Duncan said. "Come on."

And so they followed him, down, down, down to the basement....where they were not alone.

A gang of eight gypsies were waiting, and they fell upon the boys the moment they entered the vast room.

At first the boys thought it was all an elaborate game, but the expressions on the gypsies’ faces and their touch as they manhandled them out of their clothes, soon changed that impression.

The room that Duncan had taken them to was indeed a torture chamber, and each boy was hastily stripped and raped. Tyler was placed into the head stock, as imagined, and the gypsies that put him there, squealing like a pink pig, took it in turns to first lash his backside bloody with a cat of nine tails and then force it open for their pleasure. Tyler screamed himself hoarse as the lusty gypsies came again and again and again.

The big Blond struggled fiercely against his captors, but the gypsies while not of his height, were more heavily muscled and, besides, they were naturally vicious while the Blond boy only postured. He was soon as naked as Tyler and found himself lifted onto an apparatus he had never seen in any picture of a torture chamber. It was a great wooden V-frame raised three feet off the floor and suspended by great chains at a 45 degree angle. The Blond’s hands were pulled over his head and each wrist was leather-strapped to an arm of the V. Four other straps went around his neck, upper arms, and waist, so that he was left unmoving on the frame. One of the gypsies lowered manacles from the ceiling and these were attached to the Blond’s ankles. The manacles moved along a track that pulled the Blond’s legs up and out just raising his buttock slightly from the frame and leaving him wide open.

The gypsies produced a pail with the malodorous paste that Duncan had experienced earlier and they took turns dipping fingers, hands, fists, and finally arms, into the noxious lubricant. The Blond screamed and his buttocks shook, despite the restraints, at the sheer force of the gypsies’ attentions.

One of the gypsies played with the Blond’s mouth while the other explored his anus. The Blond screamed like a girl, but the gypsy at his head only laughed and roughly kissed his lips and then chewed them. Duncan turned away when one of the gypsies forced his entire hand into the Blond’s mouth, shutting of his screams, while his partner plunged his arm halfway into his anus.

Housman had been dragged naked across the floor by the hair on his head. Then his hands had been nailed to the horizontal wooden beam of a cross while his feet were strapped together at its base. The blood that dripped from his palms was caught in two golden pails. And as the boy screamed in agony, one of the gypsies sucked his cock until it swelled hard and he came with such violence that he passed out.

Master Alexei appeared at the doorway of the room, and the gypsies bowed and vanished, leaving their sweet boys mounted at their various stations.

"Leave now, my son," Master Alexei said to Duncan, "but first a sweet kiss and a thank you for your good work."

With great pride, Duncan hurried to his Master and was caught in his strong embrace. Alexei held the boy firmly in one hand and hastily undressed him with the other.

"You are so much fairer like this, my boy," the Master said, and he bit each of Duncan’s nipples so that a tiny drop of blood came from each. He suckled them tenderly while Duncan almost swooned in his arms. As he sucked at the boy’s chest, he caressed Duncan’s penis and made it rise up hard and dark in his hand.

Then he released his boy and said, "Go to your chamber and wait in your bed. I will be up in time."

Duncan left the room. He was never permitted to watch his Master feed.

Master Alexei moved from boy to boy. He soothed each one is ways that were both physical and magical before draining every drop of blood from their bodies. Housman he took first, in consideration of his pain, although the pain in his hands disappeared the moment the Master licked at the wounds. The Master’s saliva was narcotic, and Housman died orgasmic as Alexei bit into his groin and suckled him tenderly. The blood in the golden pails was consumed after Housman expired.]

The Master considered keeping Tyler as a toy; the boy was made for playing with, but he saw that the boy’s level of fear was too intense. "He would never survive a real long session of play," Alexei thought, so he merely took up the whip that the gypsies had lashed the red head with, and flayed his buttocks until the blood ran freely. It was a messy meal, but the Master enjoyed the way the redhead’s bottom danced despite the way his head, arms and legs were manacled. He drew the boy’s last breath from his mouth in a final kiss and ruffled the red hair when the head sagged in the stock.

The Blond lasted a long time, and the Master had great fun with him. He had been only a little spoiled by the gypsies’ attentions, and responded beautifully to the Master’s tongue. First Alexei had kissed the boy deeply while he fondled his chest. The boy’s nipples responded to caressing and pinching and grew dark and large. "They would be amazing if I kept him," Alexei thought, but he decided against it.

He moved to the boy’s crotch and used his tongue to suck up all of the ointment that had been applied both on and in the boy’s anus. The Blond groaned and bellowed like a bull from the exquisite sensations, but the sound he made when the Master took his cock into his mouth was beyond description.

Alexei had adjusted the pulleys so that theBlond’s legs were pulled as high up and apart as they could go without causing damage. Then, while he sucked the boy’s rampant penis, he hand spanked him vigorously. The poor boy was quite frenzied as he approached climax and it was then that Alexei bit.

Blood and semen flowed simultaneously into the Vampire’s mouth as he spanked the crimson anus until it swelled out and the Blond boy fell away.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Later, when Duncan lay in his Master’s arms, he asked about the three boys and how they had died.

"Beautifully," Alexei reassured him. "Anyone would wish for such a passing."

"Will they change?" Duncan asked.

"No. They will not change."

"Will I change?"

"Some day."

"When?"

Alexei kissed his son passionately and held him close, his long fingers pulling the boy tight against his body by cupping his buttocks firmly.

"You are my son! I will continue your training and some day....when you are ready, little one. You will make the great change."

"And we will be together forever?" Duncan said, throwing his arms around his Master’s/ his Father’s neck with so much love that he felt he would die from it.

"For eternity," Alexei said. Then he laughed. "But for now, little one, I would enjoy you over my knees." And he swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulled his son across his lap and spanked him for a very long time.

THE END