Temptation Castle Ch. 04

Home in the city, alone, on Monday evening, Ron stripped down and got comfortable, with a towel, in front of his computer and opened up the Temptation Castle Web site. With trembling hands, he went to Mart's page and started to click through the videos of the masturbation scenes until he needed the password that Mart had given him, which opened "The Chamber" page to him. Checking the index and finding that there were many videos available, he scanned through until he found his number, TC46, and clicked on that. And there he was, stretched out on the bed, with Mart sitting beside him and fondling his cock. Then with a sigh and a gasp, Ron sat back and masturbated to the video of Mart fucking him three ways from Sunday.

Afterward he clicked back to the first chamber level and saw that they had posted his masturbation video there already too. He got up and went to the kitchen and took a beer from the refrigerator. He stood at the sink to drink it, gathering strength and stamina. And then he returned to the computer, thinking that this would be tamer than the fuck video so he'd just be able to watch it for curiosity sake. Even this video turned him on, though, and he found his hand going to his cock, and he masturbated a second time to the running of him doing the same thing on the bed in Temptation Castle.

When he finished, Ron was exhausted. He left the computer on, although he closed out the Temptation Castle Web site, suddenly beginning to feel defensive about what anyone else could track down on his computer use, and he showered and laid down on the bed—his and Sally's bed—naked. He was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. The images of what he saw on the Web site, matched with what he could remember of how he actually felt when he was doing it, had him so keyed up that he couldn't go to sleep.

At 7:00 AM, he gave up and went to the kitchen, forcing himself to walk past the computer, and he fixed himself a hearty breakfast. He sat down at the table and found that his hands were shaking so bad that he had to hold the coffee cup with both of them. By 8:00 AM, he had called the office and left a voice mail that he was sick and he was already back on the computer. He watched part of his own fuck video again, but then he switched back to the number index and randomly scanned through a couple of other sessions, staying with the ones that turned him on the most to the end and clicking out of the ones that were less appealing or he decided for some reason or another he wanted to go back to later, to savor more in the viewing.

By 1:00 PM, he was bug-eyed and he couldn't pump himself to hard anymore. He stood and stumbled, first to the bathroom, where he urinated a gallon of piss, and then he lurched to the bed. This time he slept the sleep of the dead. When he woke up, it was getting dark outside and he was hungry and his cock felt sore from overuse. He went back out to the den and cursed himself when he saw the glow of the screen. He'd left the computer open to the Temptation Castle site, and the screen was pulsing, begging him to pick another video.

He couldn't do this again. He had to establish a routine of backing out of this each time he left the computer. What if he fell and broke his leg or had a concussion or something and the medics saw what he had been looking at on the computer when they came to get him. A nonsense scenario, he knew, but it was no worse that remembering what his mother said about wearing clean underwear whenever you left the house because you wouldn't want ambulance medics to see you with dirty ones.

It dawned on Ron as he sat down at the computer again, a microwaved slice of his wife's Lean Cuisine pizza in one hand, that he should be able to get farther into Theo's page now with his new password. He went straight to the bottom of the listing, to the one marked "Banquet Hall," and was frustrated to find that not only didn't it let him in with his password, but it also indicated that this section was subscription protected. The password did let him open the "Dungeon" section, however. Only a brief look there and he clicked back out in shock. He definitely wasn't ready for this now, if ever. The videos there featured Theo, in leather, in deep BDSM with a series of hot-looking men.

Ron went back to the chamber fuck videos. He was bleary eyed at 1 AM when he next looked at the clock, once again unable to bring himself back to hard. He turned off the computer at this point and showered again and fell on the bed. He was able to drift off to an exhausted sleep again fairly quickly.

He managed to make it to work the next day, but his mind kept drifting to the Temptation Castle videos, and his memory to what he had experienced in the chamber, and he'd go hard each time. He'd thought he would quickly become bored with the whole thing, but he was wrong. Each time he thought about it—which seemed to be twice every ten minutes all day at work—he'd go hard and would have to fight with himself not to move his hand to the sore bulge in his pants.

Each evening for the rest of the work week found Ron in front of the computer, finding new hot men being fucked by Mart. By Wednesday night, he found himself checking into Theo's "Dungeon" section again—and then, invariably clicking back out after only a few minutes of squinty-eyed checking. On Thursday night, he stuck with Theo's page through two videos and retired to his bedroom in disgust and pledged not to look in there again. He knew he was just kidding himself, though. He was already finding Theo's "Dungeon" scenes intriguing and hot and arousing. And his dreams that night placed him in bonds and positions that he would never have dreamed a week earlier that he'd be able to stomach, let alone moan for.

Determined to bring his new fetish under control, on Friday evening Ron left for Copper Lake directly from the office. He had spent the later hours of Thursday night moving around the house and making sure that nothing was amiss—that nothing would give away the autoerotic week he'd had there. The last thing he did was to erase the history on his computer. He had no idea if this was enough—but it was as much as he knew to do to try to cover his tracks.

Ron got to the Copper Lake house late that evening. The kids were already abed and asleep, worn out from a hiking trip up a nearby mountain. The door was also shut to Susan and Phil's bedroom immediately adjacent to his and Sally's. And Sally was waiting up for him, alerted about his anticipated arrival time by the cell phone call he'd made from a gas station down in the valley.

Sally was quite happy to see him, and she wanted to cuddle and fondle. Feeling guilty and not being able to tell her that he was well beyond being sexually wrung out from his week's session with the computer, Ron did what he could to accommodate her. But when they retired and Ron laid down on the bed while Sally was in the bathroom, he went out like a light. He'd told Sally he had a grueling week at the office, so she just let him sleep. However, she was awakened in the night with the wall bumping of the headboard on the other side of the wall they shared with Susan and Phil's bedroom and the sounds of Susan being fully satisfied. Sally reached over and started to fondle Ron's cock in a well-practiced routine of bringing him awake and to arousal, but neither worked. He didn't wake and she couldn't harden his cock. So, with a sigh, she turned on her side and tried to ignore the sounds coming from the other side of the wall.

On Saturday, the men went out on the sailboat Ron had rented for the summer. The boys had a ball, and instantly fell in with doing whatever Ron told them to do to keep the boat afloat and on tack. Phil, in his skimpy Speedo and with a thermos of martinis, sat back in the fantail of the boat and grinned lazily at Ron as his brother-in-law remembered the delights of sailing and moved here and there and everywhere, keeping everyone in the boat and explaining what and why to the eager younger members of the crew.

Ron almost was able to forget his new-found fetish. Almost, but not quite. With a pound of guilt, he found his eyes going to Phil now and again, noticing again what a good, firm body Phil had, and drifting off to fantasizing how he would look totally naked and in one of those chamber videos of Mart's.

Relief came right after dinner, when, as he had done the previous Saturday, Phil left for the city, claiming that he needed to put out a couple of fires at the nightclubs. Sally and Susan brought out the knitting and sat by the fireplace next to the game table, where the children played board games until Laurie got cranky and they all went to their rooms. While the two families were otherwise occupied, Ron, against every resolve he had made, crept into the upstairs den, fired up the Internet, and logged in the URL of the Temptation Castle Web site.

That night it was Susan who laid in her bed listening to the thump of the headboard in Sally and Ron's room against the shared wall and to the satisfied moans of her sister.

Looking for any excuse late Sunday afternoon, Ron remembered that although he'd gone through the photo shoot for the sexy cowboy photo Sally wanted, he hadn't actually picked one out. This wasn't something he very well could do over the telephone, so there was nothing to be done but to stop in at Temptation Castle, if only briefly, on his way back to the city.

Once again Ron saw that Phil's car was in the parking lot behind the building, and he parked his own well away from Phil's. Only then did Ron remember that he needed to either confront Phil about his philandering or figure out what his wife and her sister would want him to do about what he strongly suspected was going on.

Mart came up to him almost immediately upon his entry under the portcullis, all smiles and possessive touching. Ron looked around, embarrassed at what an unsuspecting customer might see and assume—and also on the lookout for Phil, in case he was there. But no one was paying them any attention, and Phil wasn't in evidence anywhere.

"You've come back," Mart said, sounding quite pleased.

"Yes, but only for a moment. I . . ."

"No regrets about your journey beyond the beaded curtain?"

Ron looked nonplussed, and then he remembered that Mart had separated the photo shoot and the physical sex at the beaded curtain guarding the door to the chamber tower.

"Uh, no . . . but I've come by just to . . ."

Mart had pulled in close. He placed his hand on Ron's bare belly, worked it up under the hem of his polo shirt, and whispered in his ear, "Have you seen it? Have you seen the video?"

"Yes," Ron answered weakly. The warm palm on his belly was driving him crazy, and he felt his cock stirring.

"That was really nice," Mart murmured. "One of the best. Have you seen the third floor? That's Theo's and my private quarters. We almost never take anyone there. But I'd like you to see it. To be with me. How long can you stay? Have you come to be with me again?"

"Yes . . . no. I don't know." Ron was struggling with himself. He had dared hope, but he hadn't realized he had until this moment. Still, some part of him had known—and hoped. He'd scheduled himself for tomorrow off at work. There'd been no reason to do that. He didn't have any plans in the city. Something inside him had told him that as nice as the session in the chamber had been, it hadn't been all night. He hadn't gotten full satisfaction.

* * * *

"Oh, yes, like that. Yessss!"

They were on silken sheets and a platform bed in the middle of an opulently furnished room. Ron was on his side, with his torso stretched back into Mart's, and he'd just come out of a long, sensuous kiss. Mart was stretched behind him, one arm wrapped under Ron's torso and a hand fondling one of Ron's nipples. Mart was holding one of Ron's legs up with his other hand. They were joined at the hips, Ron's pelvis rocking back into Mart's groin, and Mart's cock buried deep inside Ron's channel, flesh on flesh, no barriers to channel walls undulating on throbbing, digging cock.

This was the third fucking in the night, each position new to Ron, each one moaningly arousing and giving Mart deep access in Ron's channel.

The night was young, but Mart was masterful and virile, long lasting and quick to recharge.

They didn't speak for the next twenty minutes. The pace was quickening and Mart was concentrating on make love to every inch of Ron's channel. Ron moaned and groaned, holding nothing back under Mart's instruction to fully enjoy himself—to relax and give into it completely, there being no reason not to now that he was here.

Ron heard the whirring of the cameras and could pick out the reflection on the lenses discretely placed around the upper walls and in the ceiling. He knew they were being videoed even though Mart hadn't told him they would be. He didn't care. But that wasn't true. Ron cared very much. He couldn't wait to see the video.

Ron was on his back now, his thighs spread, his butt elevated by Mart's knees pushing under Ron's butt cheeks, raising Ron's channel to Mart's half buried cock. Ron's arms were raised over his head; he was gripping the brass rails of the headboard with white-knuckled fists, arching his back, feeling every inch of Mart as he pushed inside him.

"Have you ever done it bound?" Mart whispered?

"No," Ron answered, the word drawn out in a moan. His mind went immediately to the DVD he had found of Mart and another young man. Ron wanted it.

"Have you been to Theo's page?" Mart asked. He was leaning over, pulling black leather strappings from the folds of the sheets. Showing them to Ron.

"Yes, but just briefly," Ron answered in a hoarse whisper.

"Why only briefly? Does it frighten you?" Mart was lightly running the leather straps along Ron's chest and flicking them against Ron's nipples. Ron groaned.

"Yes, it frightens me."

"But it arouses you too, doesn't it?"

"I don't know. I . . ." Ron wanted it. He couldn't deny that he wanted it.

"Yes it does, I can tell." Mart was flicking the leather strips against Ron's cock, and the cock was standing at attention.

"Yes," Ron whispered.

Mart leaned over Ron's torso without disengaging his cock and, taking one of Ron's wrists in his hands, strapped it to the headboard with leather strips. Ron didn't resist.

"The other one too?" Mart asked in a murmur.

"Yes. Please."

Ron was lifted to new heights of pleasure and arousal, all guilt dissolved with this symbolic, controlling restraint, as Mart grabbed his hips and started pulling him hard up and down on his cock.

"Theo is anxious for you to visit him too," Mart said as Ron began to writhe under him and moan more deeply. "Theo loved your video too—he said he wanted you that first time too. He could hardly restrain himself, but the agony of restraint is something the arouses him all the more. He wanted to make sure you were coming for the 4th of July charity run. He says he will give you extra attention." And then Mart leaned his lips to Ron's ear and whispered, "He's bigger than I am, you know. Huge." Ron shuddered.

Ron was too far gone in the fuck, ready to burst and ejaculate again, to answer. But there was no need to answer. Ron's inhibitions and self-delusion were peeling away from him as he drifted ever closer to the center of the castle's temptation.

He didn't even realize until he had returned to the house in the city Monday afternoon that he still hadn't discussed with Mart which photograph he wanted for Sally. But this didn't upset him. This just meant another excuse for a trip to Temptation Castle—something he could lay at Sally's door. Or at least pretend that he could.