Becoming His Slave (78 page)

“Because he refuses to listen to me.”

Marcus came around grabbing one of Trenton’s arms, while Diesel got up and took his other arm and together they both lifted the unconscious man, “You have an interesting way of getting your way.”

“Hey it works doesn’t it?”

Marcus wasn’t amused. “Where we taking him?”

“My room.”

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Diesel pushed open the door to Paris’ room and was instantly hit with the scent of the man’s fear. He was still; all but the rapid breathes that cursed in his chest muscles. The little fury of panic dancing around the devil’s bomb fire in his eyes.

Trenton had not exaggerated when he said he panicked beautifully. Diesel stepped in, his arm extended behind him as if pulling something along.

 “You know in Troy they say Paris was so beautiful, women would line up outside the palace at night to lick his feet.” Diesel talked as he stepped up.

Paris lifted his head straining to see Diesel standing there, chest clad in nothing more than his gloriously tattooed skin. His eyes trailed down to the two tattooed pistols that tucked down below his pants, only there was a third gun positioned there now. A real one. Diesel took a slow step inside the room his arm stretched out behind him. Paris took a heaving breath holding it as he waited to see who he was bring in with him and then he saw the young woman. Marcena. The girl brought in from Paris, France for corrective training. Like some ancient curse of destiny that a woman from Paris was being brought in to torture the man of the same name. “I’ll lick yours—just send her away.” Paris’ breathed dark and heavy.

Oh yeah he was exquisitely falling apart.
“That’s not going to happen.” Diesel pulled Marcena to stand at the foot of the bed and he stood behind her, his hands coming around to stroke over her silky skin. The fingers of one hand curling around her breast, the other tickling down her abdomen, “You see you’ve been bad—and this one—” He tilted his head looking at her from the side and kissed her cheek, “This one has been good. But alas I am only one man and I must manage both of you in the most efficient means possible.”

His attention turning to Marcena, his lips brushed over her ear as he whispered to her, “Do you desire him?”

“Yes Patronus Master.” She answered timidly.

“Me too.” Diesel’s eyes snapped to the man strapped on the bed and he gave her a gentle nudge against her back, pushing her to move onto the bed. “Climb on top of him.”

Paris instantly began thrashing with the few inches he was capable of against the chains that held him down. His eyes widened in sheer horror as the slender Latin girl crawled up over him. One slow knee then the next. Paris’ muscles tensed, straining painfully. Held prisoner to his panic.

Marcena glanced over her shoulder to Diesel, the man’s struggles worrying her.

“Don’t worry he can’t break free.” Diesel reassured her. And she moved over Paris, lowering over him to lick at his chest and taste his golden tanned skin.

“Dammit Diesel!” But despite his protests his cock jerked up when she wrapped her slender fingers around it and began to stroke him, her eyes shifting to watch her hand work him just as she had been taught. “Oh god no!”

In a blur Diesel was suddenly over Paris, his thick arms pressing into the pillow to either side of his head. “I am the Master of Doms. You seem to keep forgetting that.”

“Please Patronus—” Heavy breathes pleaded with him.

“Please what Slave? Tell me what is it you are begging for?” Diesel looked down at him with complete amusement, waiting to hear the answer that Paris might utter to him.

“Don’t treat me like the Dominus does.”

“You desire the Dominus do you?”

“Yes—” Paris would not deny that he wanted Trenton, had felt so the second he laid eyes on him and wanted him all the more as the man’s power continued to control him, but his deepest desires were entangled with the man that hovered too close to him now, “And you.” His head fell back in frustration, “You, I ache for, but you wouldn’t let me be with you—I needed something.”

“And how does it feel to be violated right now?’

“I- I don’t like it.”

“Yet that didn’t stop you from violating my brother.”

“Please—” Paris was almost in tears. He shook his head almost dismayed at the emotional storm urging in him, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to handle your rejection.” His head came up trying to see past Diesel’s shoulder to the woman his body was well aware was still on him, then dropped again into the mattress, “Please get her off of me.” He quietly begged.

Diesel pushed up to his knees, his hand went out to the girl and guided her back off of Paris’ body. Then he began to remove the shackles from Paris’ legs, then released his arms. Paris rolled to his side rubbing his wrists, sore from his thrashing about.

“Go take a shower, stay there until I come for you.”

Without a word Paris slowly slipped off the bed and headed for the shower.

“And Paris.”

Paris glanced back over his shoulder and turned deathly white when he saw Diesel was pointing the gun in his direction.

“Keep your hands off your cock.”

It was a time later when Diesel stepped into the bathroom; Paris was in the shower as he had been commanded when he reached in and cut the water off. Paris whirled around, his face paled at the sight of Diesel’s gun once again pointing at him.

“Since you have such a problem with authority and knowing your place. Perhaps this will motivate you to mind better. Step out of the shower.

“Deez—
uh
—Patronus, do you really mean to shoot me?”

A wicked grin loomed over his lips as he looked over Paris’s built body glistening with water droplets, “No. I mean to fuck you, now step out.”

Paris had heard
that
claim more than once before, there was nothing there for him to hope, nothing to cause apprehension—except the gun in Diesel’s hand, but he did as he was told and stepped out of the shower tub. Emotions seemed to swirl just under the surface. Forty two days he had been here wanting and hungering. His sex drive fed by others never by the two men he wanted. If it had never been for that, he would have considered his time here worth every bit of it. He had fucked and been fucked,  he had felt and experienced far more under the command of these two than he had ever felt by another, but the satisfaction he craved to now Diesel was never touched. Never filled. And it seemed to drain the thrill from the experience. Yet even weary his body still shuddered under the touch  of Diesel hand as he took hold the back of his neck in the same controlling manner he had always handled him since that first day when he stepped into Trenton’s office.

“Turn your back to me and lower to your knees.” The command was different this time still willful and stern but it touched Paris’ nerves like a hot toddy that warmed his body instantly.

Again Paris did as told. Sparing a glance over his shoulder, eyeing the gun held lazily in Diesel hand. At least the man wasn’t attempting to establish any serious threat with the weapon. It wasn’t even pointing at him, not dead on at least, but even for show it was enough to have his attention.

Paris lowered to his knees, his naked body fully exposed before Diesel. Droplets of water trickled down his chest and back collecting between his legs around his scrotum to drip to the floor creating a tickling sensation that only extended the strangely fearful feeling he had as he waited for the Patronus’ next command.

“Have you ever been fucked at gun point, Paris?”

Pairs twisted only to have his cheek come in full contact with the gun in Diesel’s hand, stopping him frozen in his skin. He shook his head in a shutter. Apprehension tensed his muscles. His breath suddenly doing double time, it nearly hurt he was breathing so hard.

“I’ve watched you, seen how you took down those men the night of Marcus’ birthday—Trenton and I agree you have the strength of a bull.”

“Some say ten bulls.” Paris dared himself to speak for his defense, if it was a defense.

“Matters not—ten bulls go down as easily as one.” Diesel caressed Paris’ cheek with the weapon. Making sure he was fully aware of it and the man who wielded it was in control.

“Do you know why you’re about to be fucked by gun point, Paris?”

Again he shook his head.

“To establish in that bratty head of yours that
you
are the bottom.”

Paris heard Diesel working at his jeans. He took a deep breath. He wanted to see what he’d only had glimpses of before, but the undaunting presence of the gun barrel insisted he keep his position.

Paris’ already unbalanced emotions were now swept up in a turmoil of need and fear. The gun that touched his face only heightening the aphrodisiac spell. He could feel the strength Diesel held over him. Paris wanted desperately to turn in his grip so he could run his hands over Diesel’s body, to lick and devour the manly taste he would find. He wanted to kiss the man who was finally going to take him, so he could drown in the taking. He had never wanted anyone as he did now and that it was about to be delivered had his senses firing off like static electricity.

“Put your hands on the tub and keep them there.” Diesel spoke just as firm and soft as Trenton always did, as if carved from the same stone.

Paris could feel Diesel’s hand moving between them, felt the rough abrasion of denim moving against his skin and then he felt the thick head of Diesel’s cock nudging against his ass.
Oh god he was going to be fucked at gun point
. The new taboo had his own cock hardening so fast it startled him. His breathing deepening with the fresh panic that gripped at him. He almost fearful he’d faint, he was hyperventilating so hard. The thick engorged crest slid between his ass cheeks, up and down, teasing him with a gentle nudge against his sphincter with each pass as Diesel’s hips rocked against him.

“You won’t be the first man I fucked.” Diesel spoke to him.

Paris felt him reach for something then felt the ooze of oil dribbling between the cheeks of his ass. Then the thick shaft of hard flesh smearing it around like a heavy brush and pressed against him, coating them both with the lubricant. The hard flesh sliding against his back crevice was as large if not more than Paris had previously thought and far bigger than anything he’d ever had. He tried looking over his shoulder, he wanted to see it. But Diesel only reminded him to keep looking forward with a tap of the gun barrel to his cheek.

“But I guarantee you’ve never experienced anything like my cock in your ass before.” And just then Diesel's finger slipped into his ass pushing with ease past the tight ring of muscle. Smooth strokes to announce his presence to Paris’ body, then quickly added a second finger and began deep strokes of his fingers to caress the hot inner walls of his body till they found the tender prostate gland and messaged it with teasing passes, in and out with increasing friction. Paris' breathe had finally slowed some but deepened as his body and mind succumbed to fervent desire. He rocked back on the fingers that worked to prepare him for the invitation of Diesel’s cock. Crisp electricity sizzled his insides and he rocked back against Diesel's hand again, needing to feel more of him to feel him deeper still and as if it were punishment for moving, Diesel withdrew his fingers from his body.

Paris tried to prevent the slight moan from breaching his lips, but he had wanted, had needed this man for so long any withdrawal was unbearable.

Diesel’s grabbed Paris’ wrist and pulling him to reach back till his hand held his cock.

Paris’ fingers instantly closed around the thick mass
. Oh fuck
. His head dropping to look down his body between his legs, but his eyes didn’t see what he felt, but what he did feel… the man was a demon. Paris jerked around but the gun was just as quickly pressing in his cheek again to stay him. Denying him the chance to see what was about to happen to him, denying his eyes to prepare him. And once again Diesel’s fingers entered his rectum channel, spreading him further with three digits now. Scissoring inside him. The twinned sensation was building him up, bringing his need to a torrid demand in his body. There was no
want
any more he
had
to be fucked by this man.

Diesel worked to get deeper and deeper into Paris’ tight entrance. “That’s right, Paris, open up for me,” he groaned as he fingered his tight hole. “Just open up and let me in, let me get you ready to fuck. Need to have you nice and open so I can ride you hard.”

Paris couldn’t believe how tight he felt as if he were still new. The only thing new to Paris was not having any control in this and being prepared to be fucked by a man of Diesel’s girth. Without conscious thought he was spreading his thighs further to open his body for the man.

Then he felt Diesel’s fingers angled differently inside him finding that sweet spot once more… exalting a moan from his body that nearly startled him, to feel so much from just Diesel’s fingers as he rubbed over the prostate gland inside his body with several deep slow caresses over and over making him harder with every stroke.

“That’s it Paris, open up.” Diesel was growling now, his hips pumping his cock in Paris fingers, then pulled away and was positioning himself at Paris rear entrance.

A push of gentle pressure and Paris’ whole body tensed, feeling the broad head of Diesel’s cock pressing against his sphincter. It was so fucking thick Paris wasn’t sure he would survive this and if he did what kind of mental state would he be in when it was done.

A firmer push and his ass was opening. Paris gasped fighting the first response to withdrawal from the first instant of intrusion—part fear, part arousal and a lot of—
oh my god I don’t think I can handle this.
He felt the pain of stretching, not immense, but that shock of it was the start of more to come. Diesel had only begun to stretch him open. The push was more of a gentle nudge, then a pause then another gentle nudge.

Paris fought to still his body’s instinct to recoil from what was coming to claim him, but the pause was even worse, his need clawing to push to solidify the taking, but as the broad head of Diesel’s cock continued to breach the tight muscle ring he knew any such sudden movement would be far more painful then he could handle. Fear and hunger countered each other in him and kept him in place.