The Glass House Ch. 03

After a cursory display, the two muscular and hung hunks took Jason over to the master bedroom wall facing and floating over the lake. Several more boats had gathered out there and Jason could see that men were on the decks, with binoculars--binoculars trained on the master bedroom of The Glass House.

Before he knew it, Emilio had snapped velvet-lined cuffs on Jason's wrists. The two men stood away from each other at the window then, with Jason between them, and they started propelling the young, naked man between them, getting rough with him. They slapped him and tossed him and grabbed at his balls and squeezed, and pulled him to them for rough kisses on the lips and fists to the chests. He bounced between them like a beach ball, confused and frustrated as the two men worked themselves up into very visible and huge erections. The men in the boats followed this play with their binoculars.

Jason staggered and would have fallen, but the two men came close together, holding Jason between them, and kept him upright with their hands.

It was showtime. Renzo, behind Jason, encircled the young man with his arms, lifted Jason's body up, and when he settled it down, Jason gave a gasp and a groan. He was being skewered on Renzo's long, thick cock. In front of Jason, Emilio was grasping the young man's legs and raising and spread them. The beefy Italian nestled himself between Jason's spread legs, put his cock into position at Jason's hole above Renzo's already-buried cock and, as Jason panted and cried out, Emilio worked his cock in above Renzo's, and the two men were double fucking Jason in a standing double penetration.

Jason had handled his first double penetration the previous night. He was able, writhing and crying out, to handle this one as well, performed in the glass cube floating above Lake Como. As Renzo and Emilio fucked Jason between them, the barge that had brought them here maneuvered between the boats below where men were training their binoculars on The Glass House and stroking themselves and the thug who had guarded Jason in the lake journey collected the "watcher" fees.

Later, as Jason lay panting on the white-clad king-sized bed in The Glass House master bedroom, the boats on the lake below were dispersing, and as Renzo and Emilio, clothed once more, were boarding the black barge en route to who knows where, the bodyguard entered the room. From the bed, Jason had watched the morose man ascend the stairs from below--the floors of the house were transparent acrylic as well.

"Now I take you to Vincenzio and you discover the secrets of this house," the bodyguard said, the first complete sentences he'd had ever said to Jason.

The secrets of the house? The house was all glass, as transparent and open as you could get--the sex performance Jason had just been part of emphasized the openness of the house.

But about Vincenzio, Jason had an inkling--and his surmise had been correct. Standing in the rock-walled foyer on the ground floor of the house, wearing just what had been under his clothes of the previous night--thigh-high black leather boots and a black leather harness on his chest--otherwise naked and in full erection--and flicking a riding crop against the leather of his boot, looking malevolent, satyr-like, and foxy sexy all at the same time, stood the man who stood out at the previous night's party at the Bellagio brothel and whose eyes had lustfully followed Jason about the room.

So, this was the owner of The Glass House, but what was the house's secret? Jason immediately found out. Vincenzio led him into the rock-walled ground floor under the glass cube, the foundation of the building. In stark contrast to the transparency of the house above, this was a medieval chamber of rock floor, walls, and ceiling, with only horizontal, barred slit windows high on the walls.

Vincenzio bound Jason, extended wrists and ankles, to a St. Andrew's cross, facing the rock wall, and lightly beat him with the riding crop on the bare back, buttocks, and thighs, pulling in close to bring his hands around and give the young man tit play as he brought his mouth to Jason's ear and said, "Just a taste now, I don't want to damage the goods. You have appointments back in Bellagio for tonight."

"I'm not one of your boys," Jason responded. "You have me wrong. I'm on my way to Venice. Last night was just to pay Giorgio back for bringing me to the lake."

"You most certainly are one of my boy's now, and I want to know what you will do for a patron. I don't think you'll ever see Venice."

With that, he placed a hand on Jason's belly, jutted the young man's hips back, mounted and penetrated him, and fucked him hard.

After fucking him there, Vincenzio took an exhausted and thoroughly cowed Jason off the X-frame and carried him to the back corner of the chamber, where he dropped him on his back in a black leather sling suspended from the ceiling by chains. Jason's buttocks were set on the front edge of the sling, and Vincenzio bound his wrists and ankles high up on the four chains suspending the sling.

There, Jason watched in horror as a grinning Vincenzio greased up his right hand and then the young man writhed and cried out in frustration, pain, and to his surprise and chagrin, in arousal and a dancing-on-the-clouds sensation of supreme sexual release and satisfaction, as the satyr took a half hour to work his hand into Jason's channel and fist fuck him while he jacked Jason off with his greased left hand. Jason had never had such a high-arcing complete release as this gave him. Laughing, Vincenzio pulled his hand out, moved into position, grabbed Jason's hips, penetrated him, and fucked him to his own second release.

This, most definitely, had not been by Jason's choice. He had never contemplated ever doing anything like this. It shocked and disturbed him, though, that somewhere in the center of all that humiliation, enslavement, and pain, he had experienced sexual pleasure and release that had never spiraled him so far into the heavens.

* * * *

The house had yet another secret. Behind the garage, under the earthen mound between the house and the road, was located another bedroom and bath, no doubt meant as servant's quarters. Here there were a couple of double beds, each with leather leads and restraints leading from the four bedposts and also dropping from the ceiling at the head and foot of the bed.

It was here that Vincenzio took Jason, laying him on his back, binding him to one of the beds by wrists and ankles, and leaving him there, with a terse, "Again, later," as he looked up at the restraints hanging from the ceiling, "and then back to Bellagio for your evening appointments." Jason heard Vincentia talking to the bodyguard in the foyer, telling the man to drive him somewhere. Jason heard the garage door go up, a car being pulled out, and the garage door lowering again. And then nothing... silence.

The restraints on the bed were meant for sex, not sure imprisonment. A bit of pain and persistence and Jason was out of them, in the foyer, putting on his clothes that had been left there, folded on a chair, and was out the door and onto the road. He could see a lakeside village off the east and that's the direction he walked. He was still groggy and shaky though, and thirsty. He stopped at a lakeside café for a coffee and to gather his faculties and plan his escape from there. There was a newspaper on the café table and he picked it up to look at the photos and pull himself together. What he saw on page 3 took his mind to the previous evening.

And there, walking past the café, beside the lake, was the very man of the photo.

"Roberto?" Jason called out. "Or is it Alonzo? Judge Alonzo Kardi?"

The tall, middle-aged, distinguished-looking man who was passing by on the pedestrian walkway between the covered outdoor area of the café and the shore of Lake Como did a double take when he heard his name called. He clearly recognized who Jason was when he turned to see who had called him by the name. He hesitated but only until it sank in that Jason had called him by his real name as well. He walked over to the table, looking resigned, and sat down.

"You," he said. "I didn't expect to see you again until this evening."

So, Jason now knew who at least one of his appointments at the brothel in Bellagio was to have been this evening. Roberto, the reticent, yet authoritative figure from the previous evening who had sat off to the side and watched but had eventually saddled up to Jason and participated in a double penetration fuck, was also a judge.

"Nor I you," Jason answered.

"How did you learn who I was? Are you going to blackmail me?"

"I just learned, by chance." Jason showed the judge the photograph of him in the newspaper.

"Ah, I suppose it wouldn't be a good idea to meet in Bellagio this evening," Kardi said. He was looking increasingly miserable as the situation sank him. He'd sent many a man to prison for engaging in the behavior he'd done the previous evening.

"I guess not. I'm not employed at that--that place--we met last night. I'm just an American tourist touring Italy. I just want to get to my next destination."

"And where's that?" Judge Kardi asked, looking a bit more hopeful then.

"I don't think you want to know. But do you have a car here? Can you take me back to Milan? If so, I could travel on from there and none of this need ever be mentioned to anyone again. You'd never see or hear from me again. After a few days I wouldn't even be in Italy any longer."

This gave the man confidence. "Yes, certainly. I can drive you to Milan. That's where I come from and there's no reason to remain here for tonight now. But I'm not sure I wouldn't want to see you again. I was looking forward to tonight. We could do tonight in Milan."

Jason almost laughed. The man had just been viewing his career--and maybe his life--finished for what a few minutes later he was still saying he wanted to do. Well, OK then.

"I am not with the brothel in Bellagio," Jason said, "But I could spend the night with you in Milan. It would cost you, though."

"How much?" Judge Kardi asked, brightening up. Such negotiations were routine with him.

Jason named a price--a high-end prostitute's price. He would be making the choice once again, but maybe he should rethink this prostitution angle. Maybe Cristian had been right. Maybe there wasn't a difference between doing it for favors and doing it for money.

What was important was that Vincenzio had not been correct--and Jason shuddered at the thought of the satyr who had used him so fully, and his thoughts were all negative. Jason was going to get to Venice after all.