Over the next few days, the Brucolac doesn't show up very often. The underling sent food and change of clothes every night, then took the dirty tray and used shirt away. The Brucolac'd been here once, for treating his wounds.
All Doul could do was eat and sleep and pace. His wounds were healed now. Perhaps because of the ointment, the scars were not deep.
Almost two weeks later, the Brucolac reappeared. He asked Doul take clothes off and examine his scars as ordered, but this time he let Doul stay undressed.
“On your knees,” the Brucolac said, pressing him hard down.
Finally, thought Doul as he knelt on the floor. He treated him only to continue torturing him. What now? Fire? Waterboarding? Or...
The Vampir moved forward, pressing his crotch against Doul's lips. "Remove my trousers, with your mouth." he said nonchalantly.
Doul paused. So humiliation this time? He opened his mouth and catched one button between his teeth. With the aid of his tongue, it took him a moment to open the first button. Then the second.
The third was the most difficult one, too low and too close to the inner thighs that Doul had to nuzzle the trousers. He tried again and again, the cloth becoming damp with his saliva, and then he was shocked to find the Brucolac's cock swelling. He was almost lapping his scrotum, separated only by thin layers of cloth.
At last all the buttons loosened, the trousers hung on the Brucolac's hips, revealing his already tented shorts. Doul turned his head a little, wanting to avoid more touches, but the Brucolac reached out and cupped the back of his head.
"Go on. With your mouth. "
Doul was silent for several seconds, then opened his mouth, bit down on waistband of the trousers, bent over to pull it from the Brucolac's hips.
After that he pulled the shorts off with his mouth, his face almost touching the Brucolac's erection.
The vampir's prick sprang free, bobbing before Doul's face.
"Open your mouth," Said the Brucolac.
Doul didn't move. He knew exactly what was the Brucolac doing and he hated it.
"Open your mouth," the vampir said again.
Doul looked directly into his unknowable yellow eyes with unmasked loathing.
The Brucolac grabbed Doul hardly by the jaw. "Well, don't forget, you are a bargaining counter and I can still change my mind. " he sneered. "Just do as you're told."
"You bloody pervert Brucolac." Doul said.
"Again, Uther. You told me that I'm a pervert again. What a pity - you would get to tell a third time, a fouth time...OPEN YOUR MOUTH." he growled.
Doul glared at him, then he opened slowly. The Brucolac's hard cock was shoved into his mouth, lightly scraping against his teeth. He wanted to sink his teeth into it, but the Brucolac clenched his jaw, in place.
He was shocked at the entire length and girth of the vampir's cock, which stuffed his mouth so hard that he couldn't scream, couldn't breathe or swallow, his saliva dropping off his chin. The head bumped against his throat with every push, making him on the verge of vomiting reflexively.
The Brucolac retrieved his cock after a few rough thrusts, covered with saliva and precum. And Doul breathed hoarsely as a drowning man, slimy fluid flickering down his face and chest.
After several seconds, the Brucolac clenched his jaw again, initiating another round of torture.
In the fouth round, the Brucolac thrust faster and deeper. The reflexive contraction of Doul's throat fueled him further. He started pounding into him as hard as he pleased, his balls slapping on Doul's lips. Then suddenly, the Brucolac gasped, his whole body stiffening as he came, ejaculating into Doul's mouth.
Doul whimpered, hands pushing at the Brucolac's thighs to avoid swallowing the cum. But it's no use. His mouth was filled with hot liquid sliding down his throat.
The Brucolac withdrew his flaccid cock until Doul swallowed every pulse of semen. As soon as he let go, Doul bent down and stuffed his fingers in his mouth, trying to scrape the semen off. The Brucolac swung at Doul's groin hardly enough to knock him off his feet.
"How dare you!" the vampir hissed.
Dou curled, semen and saliva dripping off his chin. He didn't move, awaiting the inevitable punishment.
Ten seconds. Twenty seconds.
There was no sound, other than Doul's low breathy voice.
Then, there was the sound of scuffling feet, and a slamming door.
Only Doul was left alone, crouching on the floor.