Everyone is at least 18 years old.
Alan went to school at Tulane and fancied himself a ghost hunter. Normally he went out with a group of people, safety in numbers, but it was daylight and nothing happened in Louisiana in the daytime. Besides the Amite River was more famous for bigfoot sightings than ghosts. But there was an old antebellum house back in the woods not far from the road that was supposed to be haunted. A daylight drive wouldn't be dangerous. Or so he thought. Walking down the white sand river beach, he could just see the house off the road in the dense trees. Creeping into the brush he was suddenly stopped by two scantily clad men with more than enough muscle to capture and hold him. A hand over his mouth kept him quiet, while an arm across his ribs kept him secure. A rope around his wrists made him even easier to manage before he was hoisted across someone's shoulders. The way the man rubbed his denim-covered ass made Alan uncomfortable.
Once inside the house, he could see it was right out of another era although it had all the amenities of the twenty first century. The man named John carried him with ease upstairs into a room that looked troubling. He hung Alan from a hook and proceeded to shred his clothes. Alan wondered if his life depended on whether or not the man found him desirable? John looked like an extra out of a special forces movies, or maybe he was the real deal with longish shaggy brown hair and golden brown eyes. He ran his hand over Alan's body and watched to see how Alan reacted.
"I bet you taste good," John remarked with a sadistic smile. Alan didn't know how to respond and so kept quiet. The other man named Beau was fair haired with the same golden brown eyes. He removed his cutoffs to expose a fully shaven body. He knelt in front of Alan and swallowed the boy's cock for one of the best blowjobs ever. John kissed the side of his neck and toyed with his nipples. Alan had never felt anything so good in his entire life. He exploded into Beau's mouth.
John in turn fucked Beau almost ruthlessly the sound of slapping meat filling the room. Alan imagined he would wind up on the receiving end of such a pounding. Hick cock twitched at the thought.
They took him into a shower and scrubbed him down. Every inch of him was soaped and scrubbed. John even filled his ass with soapy water and cleaned him out that way. Alan needed to be nice and clean.
The owner of the house was Maurice Bastien St. Martin, originally from New Orleans, 1782 New Orleans. He had once had a wife but she had been captured and executed in 1832. John and Beau were his pet werewolves. He had brought them with him from New Orleans to this remote area east of Baton Rouge.
Maurice awoke at dusk, hungry and curious about the new plaything his boys had captured. Sating his need for blood at Beau's swollen throat, he turned his attention to Alan.
Maurice was pale and perfect with black hair and dark eyes. He liked what he saw. "I am having a party tonight, and you will be my guest of honor," he said in a smooth dated French accent.
And that was how Alan wound up naked and the guest of honor at Maurice's Ode to Bobby Joe party. He didn't dared say the song was Ode to Billy Jo for fear Maurice would do something worse. Not when he was chained to a metal pole designed just for this occasion in the middle of the large antebellum reception area. Maurice's guests were from all over the South.
When Maurice was ready he began his seduction slowly and gently. He stood behind Alan and kissed the side of his neck. He ran his hands down the young man's hard breast to his nipples and played with them until they hardened beneath his fingers. His hands continued to his cock that swelled in his hands. A box of toys sat on a table near by. Maurice drew back and opened the box. He took out some antique nipple clamps that were joined by a silver chain. Alan shuddered as Maurice pinched his right nipple until it was as hard as a pebble. Maurice attached one of the clamps to it. Alan flexed his pecs to no avail. Maurice repeated the exquisite torture on the other nipple even bending over to suck and lick the tender nugget. Alan had never had his nipples clamped before but the pain went straight to his cock.
Maurice smiled. "I think I have the makings of a pain slut here," he told his guests while fondling Alan's swelling dick. "I'm sure he will be delicious."
Delicious? Maurice was going to eat him? Maurice went back to his box and returned with a black band that fastened around his balls. Another toy even more wicked was designed to go inside of him. The werewolves held Alan's ass cheeks apart while Maurice applied a lubricant and slowly pushed the toy into Alan's very tight ass. Because Maurice was slow and careful, it didn't hurt, but Alan caught his breath when Maurice turned the vibrator on. The werewolves grinned and pawed Alan's body. Beau nibbled on his neck and stroked his cock while John flicked a clamped nipple with his tongue until Alan gasped in pain and lust..
