Witch Hunter (23 page)

‘Oh, and to help kick-start the celebrations,’ he continued, pointing towards Mimi and making her heart race with the potential of what he was to say next, ‘we shall gather on the hillside, and we shall put this fat-arsed, snooping journalist bitch to
The Hunt
. She will be torn apart, and all of you will get to share her blood.’

Dominic still couldn’t contain his smug joy. Gavin had been rougher in reality than in fantasy, but Dominic had nonetheless loved every second of it. The person he wanted above all had been inside him. His prick-end had touched his inner pleasure centre. That same prick had been in his mouth at last, and that had to
mean
something. It had to mean that things were all right after all, despite any recent misgivings. OK, it was bad that Mimi had popped up to almost spoil the party and yeah, it was certainly not good that she had been held in a cage all last night with God knows what fate awaiting her. But, well, whatever. She’d have to take her own chances now. He hadn’t invited her here. The main thing was that he
had
to be back in Gavin’s good books, even if the fucking he had been dealt by him was a little hard and impersonal.

Dominic surveyed the mess of paperwork on the desk. It was strange coming back down to earth after that night of wildness, but he always got a secret thrill from receiving terse orders from the Master, even if it did mean another chore. It was nice to know he was trusted to be alone in the Master’s office, but he was keenly aware that this was yet another thing that would normally only apply to Gavin, and he hoped the Head Slave didn’t find out about it or it might set things back again. Christ, what a beautiful cock that guy had! No quarter had been given. Dominic had dreamed of a tender first coupling between them and the reality had been a searing entry followed by so many frantic, stabbing thrusts – but boy, was it fabulous!

He was never,
never
going to forget that heat inside him, the way his hair had been pulled by his lover in the throes of ecstasy, the flesh of his shoulder gripped so hard, even punched, as Gavin had cursed him and come inside him. It was possibly the very roughness that caused his own prick to shoot.

This desk really was a mess. Things just left everywhere, some obviously very private. He wasn’t trying to look but the letter was partially open for him to glimpse. It was from Farsite Developments, a name he had overheard before. The Master had spoken to these people a few times over the last days.

Since Dominic’s job was now to oversee the Master he found himself privy to such telephone conversations. The Master was the King of Phone Innuendo. Everything he said was carefully phrased to insinuate rather than to be plain, as if he was worried that his phone might be tapped. Dominic wasn’t particularly listening but the conversation seemed to be about the sale of land, and the caller was seemingly worried that the sale could not go through.

‘I will
make
it happen,’ the Master had said, his teeth gritted, his eyes as cold as ever.

This letter seemed to confirm an offer in writing for the estate lands. Dominic didn’t read the nitty-gritty, his attention grabbed by the size of the sum offered and specifically the number of noughts in it. He could see why the Master was in a rush to make the sale. It didn’t bother Dominic that a move was apparently impending. It was a bit close to home here anyway, especially when snooping ex-girlfriends could just come along to ruin the fun. As far as he was concerned anywhere was fine, as long as Gavin was there too. Before last night things between them had taken a sudden backward turn and it had been burning Dominic up inside. It was not
his
fault the Master had been showering him with attention these last few days, but Gavin was treating him as if it was. Many times Dominic had wanted to shout that he loved
him
, not the Master, but he was worried that Gavin might throw it back in his face, or worse still betray him and repeat their conversation to the Master.

Dominic had tried to turn down his latest duties. Gavin had turned as white as a ghost when they were both told. It looked like the Master had ripped out his innards. Dominic immediately said no. He started gabbling that he couldn’t possibly be as good as Gavin, but the Master just held up his hand for silence. Gavin was soon to go on a well-earned holiday, the Master had said. Someone had to act as Head Slave in his absence. Dominic was told to begin immediately, even though Gavin was still there, so that the Head Slave could help teach his usurper. Once in private Gavin had hissed insults at the new charge, called him a backstabber, a sneak, a treacherous cunt. Dominic felt his own insides being pulled out. How to right this heartbreaking wrong?

He didn’t hear the door open, so engrossed was he in that bitter memory. The first he knew was the thick arm closing around his neck and pulling him back against the massive torso. The arm began to slowly squeeze and he could feel the breath being forced out of him. He dropped the letter.

‘I wasn’t reading it, Master – I promise,’ he gurgled.

‘Good,’ came the voice, soft and sinister in his ear, ‘because people who pry into my life have theirs quickly finished.’

‘I was tidying up like you told me, and it was just – open!’

‘Do not worry,’ said the voice, although the pressure at his neck was still being exerted with worrying force, ‘I know that you would never tell anyone about things that you find in this office, about what you might hear, or see, or
do
whilst in my presence.’

‘No, Master – never!’

The pressure eased just a little, just below the critical mark, but it was still great and Dominic felt tiny and fragile against the bigger frame.

‘The letter is nothing,’ the voice in his ear said. ‘We might move from here, that’s all. I have found us somewhere much better, more private, somewhere where we will have fewer
distractions.
But it is a secret,
our
little secret, so you must keep it to yourself for now, understand?’

The final words were spoken without the edge, to show there were no hard feelings, apart from the prick that Dominic could feel growing steadily against his behind. He nodded his assent, still trying to draw in enough air to stop his head turning blue. The light caress he felt on his chest did nothing to ease the panic. If anything it put him more on edge. He feared such moments, alone and trapped and his Master in an amorous mood. He thought he could cope with anything when Gavin was around but what about when he wasn’t? The hand at his chest was dropping, slowly. It was gliding down over his belly and heading inexorably for his crotch. He felt his prick twitch. For fuck’s sake! What was
wrong
with his prick? Even in these dark moments it was oblivious to danger, always looking for its next pleasure.

The hand stroked over his bulge and gave it a fleeting squeeze, just enough to check that it was indeed growing. Then the hand was undoing the belt and fly of his leggings, and down they came. His prick came free. It bobbed and twitched and then started to quickly lengthen, as if the cells were reacting with the oxygen in the air. Dominic had no control over it. It swelled and climbed and stood out, ready as ever. The hand slid off his belly, found his wrist and held it tight. He was made to grip his own hot erection and the larger hand closed over his fist and started to move it in a slow up-and-down motion. It hurt. His foreskin did not glide slickly, despite the seemingly ever-present tear of pre-come his prick had kindly produced. The hand came off his and there was an identifiable sound close to his ear of spit being deposited onto a thumb. Then the hand came back and the saliva was wiped onto his retracted foreskin. It was a filthy act, so starkly personal, but it made Dominic’s legs weaken and that’s when he knew he needed more.

He was still being held around his neck, so that only very little air was being allowed into his lungs. He felt light-headed and woozy, and this was not helped by the adrenalin still buzzing around his body after his initial fright at being discovered. The feel of the hand on his was good. It was exciting to be under someone else’s control, in their power. The pace of his masturbation was being controlled and he liked it. The trepidation remained. His neck could be snapped at any moment, perhaps even while he was starting to ejaculate. However, his nervousness just heightened the pleasure in his prick.

The hand slipped off his and he continued alone, stroking with the same tempo as he had been shown. The hand was behind him now, working away. The panic rose. The Master’s prick was being unleashed and there it was, as huge and hard as always, pressing into the crack of his bare arse, as warm as it was unnerving. Dominic began to fret audibly, seeing visions in his head of the Master bending him forward over the desk. He had never seen that huge cock being forced up another man’s arse, and to his knowledge it never had, but he alone had witnessed the Master’s tenderness to him recently.

He felt the hand going down behind him and then it was pushing at his crack, going into it. He tensed and yelped as he felt the thumb at his anus, barely stopping to let him relax as it pushed its way past the resistance and slipped inside. He whimpered but it felt good, even with the bruising of last night’s invasion. He couldn’t help but rub faster on his pulsing cock. The fingers of the same hand were not idle. The thumb just stayed inside him but the fingers snuck down and found his ball sack and gripped it. He could feel the thumb moving inside as the hand instinctively tried to close in a fist around his balls. The grip might have hurt but it only gave more pleasure.

The squeeze came and then relented, came and then relented again, a measured pace, almost like he was being milked. He was whimpering constantly now, sounding like a girl, not that he could stop himself. Every squeeze of his balls seemed to send another load of seed into his cock, ready for the final launch. It gathered at the base and his fist sped up to force it down the shaft. He hoped his Master wouldn’t stop him because there was no going back now. His eyes closed, his head pounding from his exertions and from the lack of oxygen getting to his brain. The faster he wanked the closer he felt to passing out, but just in time the dam broke, the spunk jumped and with a squeal he was ejaculating all over the desk while his bollocks were squeezed empty.

He had to lie face-down upon the desk, such was the weakening of his body. He could have been taken like this but he would have done nothing to stop it. Instead the Master had gone around to his chair and was sitting, erection in hand, ready and waiting. Dominic dragged himself off the desk. The cock looked awesome; too huge to be inviting but spellbinding nonethe ess. He was being beckoned over. He was going to have to put his mouth on it for the first time. He had seen Gavin do it and had stared transfixed, shivering with jealousy as he watched the expert at work and imagined how it would feel. He opened wide and felt it stretch his jaw. He let his tongue go to work and heard the Master exhale in a little growl.

‘You tell no one, you understand?’ the Master was snarling. ‘No one.’

Dominic got into a rhythm that he knew was being enjoyed, trying to mimic the technique he had seen Gavin use. The sense of danger was still there, like he was sucking on a gun barrel. He knew he had to make it go off in his mouth, or other openings might be utilised. He sensed he was doing well, building slowly but surely, showing the prick the reverence it deserved but not slackening the impetus. He was bringing the Master to the final stages when the mobile phone on the desk went off.

The Master swore but put his hand on Dominic’s head as a sign that they needn’t both be interrupted by the ringing.

‘Yes?’ he shouted impatiently into the phone. ‘Oh, yeah, Grigor – how are you, my old friend? Listen, I need next month’s goods a day early because I’ve other business to attend to. Is that going to be a problem? Good. One more thing, I am sending you someone, a boy. He is going on a holiday and I want you to take care of him. Yes, that
is
what I mean: permanently. The cocky cunt has got to go. Oh, and I might send you a girl too. She is some journalist bitch who has been snooping around. We have some games to play with her first that I doubt she will get through, but if by some miracle she does, I will send her your way. Don’t get too excited, Grigor. She’s too old for your tastes, but she is pretty and she’s got a fat arse and some of your clients could use her. OK, talk later. Goodbye.’

The blood was freezing in Dominic’s veins but he knew better than to show any sign of it. As soon as the phone was back on the desk he quickly returned to his former pace, as if nothing had happened, as if his body were not fizzing with alarm. There could be no mistaking what the Master had meant, but there was nothing Dominic could do about it. He was on his knees and he had to stay there and keep quiet and get on with his business, doing his level best to give the Master his pleasure. And that he did.

‘I told you I was your only hope,’ Morgana said, making Mimi jump. ‘He is a killer. You will be hunted by the girls and you won’t live to tell the tale. It took all my powers to keep his mind off sacrificing you last night. I have bought you a little more time but that is all.’

Funny how the witch always seemed to imbue one with a feeling of comfort without actually providing any. She had snuck up quietly, even dismissing the guard without Mimi knowing. She was carrying a long, narrow box in wood so dark and aged it looked almost waxy. In the hands of someone else, Mimi might have guessed it was perhaps a case for a precious musical instrument, a flute or clarinet perhaps. However, here the image that came to mind was from some anonymous horror movie in which the vampire hunter had opened just such a box to reveal a sumptuously lined interior housing a sharp, two-foot wooden stake designed for despatching the undead. It was a fair bet that the witch’s thoughts were inclining her more to plunging things into Mimi’s body than to playing her a bit of Mozart.

The Priestess looked as alluring as ever, in figure-hugging black velvet this time, the dress front split upwards nearly all the way to her crotch, revealing flashes of perfect white leg as she approached. Although she felt wretched from her caged confinement overnight and half of this day, Mimi still couldn’t stop the tingle between her legs on seeing her visitor. It was like a seed of passion planted malevolently inside her, triggered to germinate and blossom whenever Morgana appeared. Others might have just called it infatuation or even love, but Mimi was convinced that in this case it was not a natural instinct but one that had been put inside her by nefarious means. The witch always promised a fantasy life of bliss and security, but despite her words Mimi was still locked up and, as far as she could tell, still certain to meet a gruesome end. So what did the witch want this time?