Temptation Castle

"The banquet hall. Theo told me you'd ask about the banquet hall."

Phil was standing there in the foyer of the lake house, just in his skimpy Speedo, when Ron drove up late the following Friday afternoon, after a week of agonizing and self-flagellation—and, because of the temptation, hours on the Internet watching the video that had been shot of his session with Theo in the dungeon.

"The banquet hall. What banquet hall? And where are the women and children?" Ron knew exactly what Phil was talking about; he was just playing for time—fighting the temptation still.

"The Temptation Castle Web site," Phil said. "The last gallery on Theo's page. The one requiring a subscription. And the women and children are camping. They'll be gone all weekend. We have the house to ourselves all weekend."

"You know about that? The Web site?" Ron knew it was a stupid question. He'd known as soon as Theo told him to ask Phil about further temptations that Phil was in this up to his neck.

"Of course. This was my plan to begin with. Temptation Castle was there, of course. And I'm a full partner. Who do you think runs the club part? It's just another one of my clubs. Mart runs the store and photography studio, Theo the gym—and I run the men's club that's fronted by the gym."

"The club part?"

"We'll come to that. This whole summer thing is because I want to fuck you, and I wanted you ready to want it too. The lake vacation, the house, all my idea. I made no secret of that. And if you were perceptive, you'd know I want you."

Ron was perceptive enough; he'd just been in denial about that.

"I've known every step you've taken into temptation, Ron. You know, you must have really wanted this, because you didn't struggle very hard. It helped for me to get Susan to have Sally pester you about that sexy photo shot. But you sank so fast into the temptation of the castle that Mart and Theo had a little trouble staying ahead of you."

Ron didn't answer. He just looked down at the floor. He couldn't dispute that. Temptation had been there, but he had done little to fight it. And he was ashamed to admit it—but he didn't regret having fallen to it. Even knowing what was happening now, he couldn't say that he didn't want it. He was relieved, in fact, now that it was in the open and now that Phil was taking the initiative. And suddenly all inhibitions of recognizing that Phil aroused him were cleared away.

"Come down to the lake. We're going for a swim."

"A swim? It's nearly dark."

"I don't care. A swim and then I'll tell you about the banquet hall. I'll show you the banquet hall."

Ron stood there, between temptation and common sense.

Phil fucked Ron in the water, under the pier. Ron knew why they were going swimming. Phil dove in off the pier and then, a few minutes later, Ron, still struggling with himself, but the temptation too great, dove in as well. Phil was already hard. So was Ron, conditioned for weeks to fall to this temptation. Phil pushed Ron up against a pier, under the dock, standing in water up to their nipples. They kissed as Phil stripped both swimsuits off and lifted Ron in the water, with palms on butt cheeks, and setting his now well-reamed and quickly opening channel on his cock head. Ron grunted and groaned as his channel descended on Phil's skewering cock.

Ron sighed and hooked his legs on Phil's hips and closed his eyes, shutting the whole world out other than the focus of the cock churning in his channel, as Phil rubbed his back up and down on the slimy wall of the pier in the raising and lowering of Ron's channel on his cock.

They came almost simultaneously in a shared, long sigh of satisfaction.

"I wanted to have you before showing you the banquet hall," Phil whispered in Ron's ear. "It was so long in the making. But it was worth it. And of course now I'll have you again and again."

"I don't understand; showing me the banquet hall?" Ron answered.

"Come up to the house," Phil said. "Use a towel. Dry off. But come up to the house. Don't bother to dress."

Phil was silent, not responding to any of Ron's questions as they came out of the lake, dried off with the towels they'd brought down to the lake, and padded, naked, up to the house, which was ablaze with lights, just as Ron had found it when he arrived.

"To the den, where the computer is," Phil said. They went in there. The computer was already on, and the Temptation Castle Web site home page was humming along. Phil sat Ron down at the computer and clicked into Theo's page and then on to the page that had been tagged "The Lists," the one with the rows of head shots of men.

"You didn't take a very good look at this ever, did you?" Phil asked. "You could get this far with just the password, but you didn't look at the photos, did you?"

"No, not much," Ron answered. Of course he hadn't looked at head shoots, not when all of those explicit videos were to be had. He hadn't had the time or energy to look at them.

"Because if you had looked at them, you would have seen my photo right there," Phil said. Ron looked at where Phil's index finger was touching the computer screen, and, sure enough, Phil's photo was there.

"Now for the banquet hall," Phil said. He leaned over Ron's body and tapped in a password, and the banquet hall page opened. Video after video of a rolling orgy, a swirling mass of men fucking men, all together, and many on one, and even men's asses being taken by two other men at once.

Ron didn't want to look, but it was fascinating, and so he became absorbed in what he was seeing.

"It's a men's club," Phil whispered in his ear before taking the lobe between his teeth and applying pressure. "The members of the gym are eligible to be members of the club, if they can afford it. I'll be happy to pay your fee. They can come and exercise—on the first floor of the gym wing. And when they want they can go up to the second floor and play in the pile. And they can even go to Theo's dungeon, as it pleases them. I'm sure you will be going there."

Ron turned and looked at Phil, the shock showing in his face.

"Yes, I've seen the video of you with Theo in the dungeon already," Phil said. "You've been a busy little boy."

Phil was leaning over Ron now from the back and running a hand down to Ron's dick and encircling it and stroking it. Ron sighed and turned his face to his brother-in-law and they kissed deeply. But not for long; Ron wanted to open another video.

"I manage the club," Phil said. "After tonight you'll be one of us, a member. You will then have experienced the full range of temptations the castle has to offer."

Ron was barely listening to Phil. His eyes and attention were glued to the orgies unfolding before him. He winced at the double takings, but he didn't take his eyes away from them. He could almost feel himself moving deeper into the levels of temptation.

"Do you see that?" Phil whispered in Ron's ear. That's Doug and that's Max. The guy between them, that's Spencer. Look at the expression on his face. Look at him struggle between them, as they face each other, sharing his channel.

"Oh, god, oh god," Ron murmured. "I didn't even know . . ." He couldn't go on. He watched, eyes locked onto the scene being played out, his hips in slow, rolling movement. Phil opened the hand encircling Ron's cock as, without even being aware of it, intent on watching the two men working the third between them, Ron's cock slid up and down against Phil's palm.

When Ron ejaculated into Phil's hand, he was as much surprised that he had, as wondering—and still a bit disturbed—that he was so easily tempted.

"Come. Come to the bedroom at the top of the house. The one we don't use." Phil was saying it in sugared tones, but there was little question that he was to be obeyed.

Ron didn't mind that he would enjoy another fucking from Phil—especially now when all of the questioning and doubt were gone. Phil would take care of everything. He'd see to it that neither of the women or their children would know. It would just be something he and Phil did without them being aware of it. The families came together often. There always were opportunities. Why, even tonight, the women and children weren't here. They were off camping. That certainly was fortuitous.

Ron stood and padded out of the den and up the stairs to the third floor, the large dormer bedroom at the top of the house, following Phil. Even here Phil had been sensitive and had thought this out. No guilt of them fucking in any of the beds the rest of the family was using.

They reached the top of the stairs, and Phil turned and grabbed onto Ron's forearm and whipped him into the room—into the middle of the room, where he bumped into and fell on the bed that had been pulled out into the middle of the chamber. Flood lights clicked on, video cameras started rolling, and a dozen naked men reached out, grabbing for Ron.

Phil turned and padded back down the stairs, stopping half way and sitting down on the stairs to enjoy the sounds of Ron's surprised pleadings and moans and groans. He was gurgling now. Phil was almost sorry he wasn't in the room—to watch. But he'd let the boys have their evening. And there would always be the video. Then Ron would have seen, felt, experienced it all. And afterward Phil would take him and bathe him and comfort him and have Ron all to himself.

Phil picked out the voices arching out over the others. Doug and Max. And Ron's high-pitched wail . . . and his scream . . . and Doug's and Max's laughter and cries of shared passion. Phil lowered his hand to his cock, stroking himself, joining with Doug and Max in Ron's succumbing to the ultimate temptation.

THE END