Personal Demons

by Jay Lygon

  Sensing my reluctance, Hector went into hustle overdrive. Next thing I knew, I was face down on the bed, my shorts down to my knees. His big hands forced my ass cheeks apart so that he could rim me. He tongue fucked me for a long time until he won my body over.

  He rolled onto his back. “Let’s see how well you ride, cowboy.”

  It wasn’t the time to remind him that I wasn’t from the part of Oklahoma that had cowboys. I lubed his cock -- first with spit, and then with the real thing -- straddled his thighs, and lowered myself onto his cock. Without warning, he bucked violently under me. I grabbed for the headboard. He lifted his head and sank his teeth into my nipple.

  The person on top was supposed to have control, but it was everything I could do to hang on. Hector’s big hands held me in place while he set the pace. I grunted when he released my nipple and bit down on the other one. My balls smacked painfully against his groin.

  “Come now!”

  I shot my load into his chest hair.

  “Lick it up, Boy.”

  After I cleaned him up, he wrestled me down onto my stomach. I figured he was going to get off, but he filled me with a butt plug instead.

  “You better just get used to the idea that your ass is going to be filled all day long, either with my cock or that plug. I don’t plan on coming until after dinner, but between now and then, we’re going to play a long game of sex slave.”

  Grinning, I climbed out of bed.

  “Don’t bother to put on clothes. I want you naked and ready to be fucked at all times. And another thing, get down on the floor.”

  Damn. My cock was hard again already. I got on my hands and knees and waited to see what else he planned to do to me.

  Hector gently grasped my balls and coaxed them deep into my sack. I gasped as he kept working them and stretching the skin. My head bowed. I could see my cock pointing right at my face. A clear drop beaded at my piss slit.

  Cold metal clamped between my balls and my ass, and I heard a lock click into place. He’d put me in the humbler, which was sort of like stocks, but instead of my neck through the hole in the middle, it was my balls. The metal bar pressed against the backs of my thighs. My balls felt as if they could burst. Hector ran his fingernails lightly over them until I trembled.

  With the humbler on, I couldn’t stand up. I could barely kneel. My balls were exposed for Hector’s amusement, and man, could he find devious ways to amuse himself when I was helpless like that.

  He smacked my butt. “That’s what I like to see. Now run along and do your chores.”

  I crawled out of the room knowing that I’d left a small puddle of pre–come on the wood floor. No doubt I’d get paddled for that. At least, I hoped I would.

  Just as quickly as the honeymoon had ended, it was back on again.

  Chapter 3

  Blood welled in the cut on my bottom lip. The copper flavor of it filled my mouth when I licked it away. Hector sat on a white, French Provincial chair that seemed too fragile for his muscular frame. The set of his mouth grew harsher as I paced yet another lap from the wardrobe to the far side of the double bed. Any normal person visiting Venice for the first time would have leaned out the window to look at the moonlit lagoon below our hotel window, or gazed across the rooftops in wonder and awe at the quiet city. Not me. I was in meltdown mode.

  At least back home I had packing and last minute details to distract me. Once we checked in to our cramped hotel room and everything was hung in the wardrobe, there was no way I could avoid thinking about the coming week. So I paced, and chewed on my bottom lip until it bled, and then for good measure tugged on my hair until I had a headache.

  “All right. I’ve had enough of this,” Hector said. He rose from the chair and strolled over to me. “Let’s go get some dinner.”

  I shook my head. “I have things to do.”

  “Like pacing for another hour and fretting until you collapse?”

  “No. I have to check the schedule for tomorrow.”

  “Another hundred times? Sam, you have to calm down. Everything is going to be okay. You’ve been to film festivals before.”

  “But this is the Venice Film Festival, the oldest one in the world! And I’ve never had to cover one for a real magazine.”

  Those crinkles I loved appeared around his warm brown eyes. “All you have to do is watch movies and write your reviews and make a few gossipy blog entries. You’ve worked your ass off to get to this point in your career. You deserve to be here. You do know that I’m proud of you, don’t you, Boy?”

  Was there a sweeter man on the face of the planet? I didn’t think so. He didn’t praise me often, but when he did, he meant it.

  I glanced over at my laptop and thought about checking the schedule and maps one more time. No matter how many times I looked at them, I couldn’t seem to keep the information in my head. It would be so easy to get lost or to miss an important interview, and then my editor, George, would know he made a mistake hiring me. I bit my bottom lip again.

  Hector’s thumb eased my lip out from between my teeth. “None of that. What you need, little Boy, is a relaxing dinner and good night’s sleep.”

  “Little? I’m as tall as you now.” I didn’t have Hector’s muscular bulk, but I was no longer a small, slim boy.

  “Don’t start fretting about your age now, too. You’re tense enough as it is.” Hector took my hand. “Come on. Let’s go find something to eat.”

  By the time Hector and I went in search of dinner, the entire city of Venice seemed to have gone to bed. Even the moon seemed to glow grudgingly on the dark alleyways. It must have been past midnight.

  “I’m sorry, Sir. I screwed up the time change. If I hadn’t wasted all that time in the hotel room, we probably would have found a place still open. I’m sorry.” No matter how many times I apologized, it didn’t seem like enough.

  “Don’t get yourself worked up again, Sam. It was an easy mistake to make. We’ll figure something out.”

  We walked up the stairs to our hotel lobby. A sweaty night clerk gave us our room key and then turned his attention back to the screen of his iPod.

  I pushed the button for the elevator. “I can phase back home and make your dinner, Sir. Do you want chicken? I think there’s some in the freezer.”

  “Sam.”

  “Maybe I should stop by the market. I didn’t leave much food in the house since we’re going to be gone for a week.” By the time I finished cooking it would be way past Hector’s usual dinner time, and he was really strict about his schedule. What could I make that was fast?

  “Sam.”

  “Or I can pick up a pizza if you’re okay with that.”

  “Boy!”

  I stopped in my tracks. “Sir?” How angry was he? I was almost afraid to look, so I let my gaze work its way up from his feet and hoped that his body language would give me a hint. Hector stood with his feet wide apart, and his muscular arms were folded over his broad chest. That didn’t tell me much, so I quickly glanced at his mouth. The corners of his lips curled oh so slightly, as if I amused him.

  “We’re in Italy, and you’re thinking of phasing home to pick up a pizza for dinner?” Hector asked.

  I nodded.

  His mouth twitched. “Baby. Think about it.”

  I would have tried to figure out why he was laughing at me, but I had more important matters on my mind. It was my job to make sure he got his dinner when he expected it, and I wasn’t going to screw up the one thing I always did right.

  The tiny, ancient elevator finally arrived in the lobby, although it took its time deciding to open its doors for us. We stood shoulder to shoulder inside it as it slowly shimmied its way up to the fourth floor.

  “So you don’t want pizza? Let me check the pantry. Maybe I can heat up a can of something for you.” I phased back home. The H brand on my ass cheek immediately flared with scorching heat. Oh man. I was in real trouble. I immediately phased back to the hotel room.

  Before I could pl
ead my case, Hector grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him. As he unbuttoned my shirt, he gazed into my eyes, but didn’t say anything.

  “S-S-Sir, I--.”

  “Quiet.” He pulled off my shirt and then made me sit on the bed. He knelt down and removed my shoes. “Are you hungry, Baby?”

  Staring at my hands, I shook my head.

  “I should make you eat, but you’ll probably just throw up. You’ve got to stop working yourself up like this or you’re going to get an ulcer. I want you to focus. Lie down and listen to my voice. Is the overhead light harsh on your eyes? I’ll turn it off.” Hector’s voice got soft. As soon as he got that sexy, urban rhythm in his voice, I was putty in his hands, and he knew it. “Is that better? Can you hear the water in the canal? The tide must be coming in.” He slipped off my pants. “The city is so quiet right now. Are you listening to the water?”

  My head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, but I managed to nod.

  “Hands.”

  I raised my hands above my head so that he could shackle me to the headboard. Then, like every night at home, he kissed my forehead. That simple ritual made me smile a little.

  The bed creaked as he sat at the end of the mattress. He took my foot between his big hands and rubbed the arch. When he was done with my feet, he slid his hands up to my calves. “So much tension. Let it go, Baby.”

  My entire focus was on his hands. They slid above my knees for a tantalizing moment, but then went back to working my calves. He kept working a bit higher up my thighs and then moving back to my calves until all the tension in my body seemed focused on my groin.

  “I know what you need,” he said, and he was right. Oh man, was he ever right. His mouth covered the head of my cock and then slowly took me in. Hot, wet suction ignited every nerve in my body. He wrapped a hand around the base of my cock and stroked while his other hand cupped my balls. A few flicks of his tongue and I was panting. The sight of his lips sliding down my shaft made my hips jerk.

  When Hector talked, his voice was so quiet that I had to strain to hear it over my ragged breathing. He crooned like he was hustling me, but I couldn’t figure out what he wanted. Sweet Baby. Hot Baby. Baby, Baby, Baby. Whatever he wanted, I’d give it to him.

  As he pumped my cock, my knees drew up to my chest. Oh man, what was he doing with his lips? It felt incredible. He spat on my hole and teased it with a finger. I wanted to grip his short, black hair and fuck his mouth, or to grab his cock and guide it to my ass, but the shackles held me back. Arcs of electricity snapped between us where we touched. He shoved his finger deep into my ass and stroked my prostate so that it felt as if my cock was being massaged all over.

  “Come.”

  My ass gripped hard around his finger. I grunted. He plunged his mouth over my cock and took my load.

  Minutes later, I still couldn’t talk.

  “Feel better now? More relaxed?”

  I gave him a slow grin. Relaxed? Hell. He’d turned my bones to jelly.

  “You’re going to be fine tomorrow.” Hector stroked my hair. It was hard to keep my eyes open when the sensation of a soft, warm blanket slowly drew up my body. Something was dragging me under, but it felt too comfortable to fight. I heard a deep sigh and realized it was mine, but it seemed to come from somewhere far away. My eyes wouldn’t open.

  “Good Boy. You will be asleep by the time I get undressed,” Hector told me.

  What happened next was too hazy for me to recall. I might have said, “Yes, Sir,” or maybe only nodded, if even that. Hector quietly moved away from the bed, and the last thought I remembered having was, “When did he learn to cast a sleep spell?”

  ***

  I woke to the pealing of church bells. Soft morning light reflected on the ceiling of our hotel room. The day was already warm. I tried to see what time it was, but there was no clock on the nightstand. If I’d been thinking, I would have counted the church chimes from the beginning, but I wasn’t sure if they tolled the hours or simply reminded everyone that it was time for Mass. Whatever the answer, it was too damn early to be up. My body protested that it was still the middle of the night, and back home, it was.

  Groaning, I tried to put my pillow over my ears to drown out the bells, but the chain securing me to the headboard was too short.

  Hector mumbled something. His lips pressed to my neck above my slave collar, and he ground his hard on against my butt.

  “Good morning, Sir,” I whispered.

  Hector growled, but not in an angry way. The sound sent shivers down my spine. Smiling, I wriggled against him. He growled again and tightened his grip on me. Gentle kisses blessed my bare shoulders. I yawned, stretched my legs, and rolled over to face him -- not easy with my hands chained to the headboard. His warm brown eyes crinkled up at the corners as he grinned at me.

  “Venice.” Hector said it like he was evoking a holy word. Maybe for him it was. He was the God of Love, after all, and what city was more romantic than Venice?

  “Maybe we could do a little exploring before I head over to Lido to check in with the media people,” I said.

  He rolled over and picked up his watch. After squinting at the face for a while, he put on his reading glasses. He groaned and collapsed against the mattress. “Who’s up this early?”

  “The bell ringers.”

  “Smart ass.” He smacked my butt hard and then released me from my shackles.

  Giving him a quick kiss, I got out of bed.

  When I came out of the bathroom, Hector stood at the open window. He was nude. His broad shoulders and the dimples at the small of his back were an awesome sight. The light seemed to wrap around his warm brown skin and highlighted the dark hair on his forearms and thighs. To me, he looked like one of those statues of Hercules -- masculine and powerful. Even if he hadn’t been a God, he would have been god-like.

  “Someone should paint you like that, Sir. Or make a sculpture. You’re so…” I was going to say hot, but the word that came out of my mouth was, “beautiful.”

  He didn’t turn from the window, but he extended his hand toward me. I took it. He drew me in front of him and wrapped his arms around my waist. I leaned back against his chest as we took in our first daylight glimpse of Venice together.

  Below our window was a canal. Several buildings down, the canal widened into a small lagoon where thirty or so gondolas were tied together. A man climbed across the boats, which were tied together in the mooring, until he reached the one that was his. He stripped off his shirt, revealing a toned stomach and beefy arms before he pulled on his red and white striped work shirt.

  Once that show was over, I took in the rest of the view. The skyline was punctuated with crosses and domes. I knew that we weren’t far from St. Mark’s Square and the Doge’s Palace. The surrounding neighborhood was a jumble of homes and shops. The apartment building directly across the canal from our hotel room was taller than the hotel. Its walls were warm sienna with small, wrought-iron balconies that were crowded with plants. Several stories down, a black and white cat sunned himself in a window.

  We stood in our embrace for a long time as we watched early-rising tourists carefully climb into the gondolas. Soon only a few boats were left in the lagoon. The smell of the sea filled the air. Sunlight bounced off every surface so that the city glowed. Hector’s aura wrapped around me like a cloak. Everything was so perfect at that moment that I didn’t dare speak and break the spell.

  Church bells chimed again, but they sounded further away.

  “A city of churches,” Hector mumbled in my ear. “A city of Gods.”

  ***

  While Hector was in the shower, I phased home to make his breakfast. It was the middle of the night in Long Beach, and I think it was still yesterday there. As I tried to wrap my head around that thought, I almost overcooked the eggs.

  Back in our hotel room, I set the small table with one plate, one set of silverware, and two mugs. The water shut off in the shower. I phased home, grabbed the freshly brewe
d coffee, and phased back. Proud of my timing, I went to my knees, clasped my hands behind my back, bowed my head, and waited for my Master.

  Hector strode out of the bathroom with a white towel wrapped around his waist. “What’s this?”

  “Breakfast, Sir.”

  He cupped my chin in his hand and forced me to look up at him. “You’re supposed to be working.”

  “Serving you is my job, Sir.”