Death to Blonds Ch. 05

"You walked out on the boss yesterday. That wasn't a real bright thing to do."

"He actually walked out on me Jocko. He didn't tell me to stay. And he left. For all I knew he'd be bringing someone else back to the hotel room. And then there I'd be. That would be an awkward moment. He's always been able to find me. I waited around for a long time before I left. And speaking of finding me, how did you find where I lived?"

"I followed you that night the boss had me drive you back. I knew you didn't live where I left you off. I parked and followed you here."

Clint tried not to show his relief. Maybe they didn't know he was a cop after all. "OK, so you found me here. You can go back and tell the boss that you found me—coming home to my apartment alone. And that I didn't mean any disrespect when I left the Christopher the other night. I didn't know he'd want me to stay."

"He wants me to bring you back."

"Tonight? To the Christopher or to his house out on Long Island?" Clint was saying this with the hope that either Danny or his voicemail could hear it.

"It will be a long drive—in case you want to take a piss or something before we go."

"Ah, out to Long Island then. No, I'm good. We can go." Clint started around the kitchen island in the direction of the door to the outer corridor.

"Don't you want to take your coat?"

"Nah, it's OK. It would be just one more thing to have to take off."

Although he showed a bit of irritation that Clint hadn't been in the Christopher Hotel bedroom when he'd returned the previous day, Brunelli didn't show any signs when Clint was delivered to his Long Island estate basement playroom of having been leaned on by the police earlier that day or that he had anything to worry about concerning whatever they were investigating. Must have balls of steel, Clint thought as he was being strapped up, face down, on a padded-top restraint board.

He'd seen the apparatus the first time he'd been in the basement playroom and it had set his juices going. He had been restrained and fucked on one before, but nothing this elaborate. It was a platform, with a padded vinyl top and wide enough so that his arms were stretched out straight from his sides and cuffed flat at the wrists on the table top. A more heavily padded wedge under his belly lifted his torso up and back, putting his butt up in the air and his knees in a wide-stanced kneeling position, with his ankles cuffed to the surface of the platform. His cock and balls went through an opening in the rear side of the wedge and a mesh cage trapped and separated the ball sack. His head was in a harness at the top edge of the table with his chin in a cup at the table's edge.

Clint was completely incapacitated on the platform by Jocko and one of the guards who had been patrolling the rim of the sunken patio leading to the basement room before Brunelli appeared in a robe, which he shucked off, revealing his massive, hairy, powerful body, already in half erection.

"Comfortable?"

"For now," Clint answered through clinched teeth.

"You aren't afraid?"

"Yes. But excited too. Don't make me wait."

"Ah, you've done this before. You never cease to amaze me, Mr. Movie Star. I still want you working for me—working under me. I want you here all of the time. I don't want to have to send Jocko out to fetch you. I want you here for when I feel the urge for you. We got a room upstairs just for you. All ready."

Clint didn't respond. He was still unsure of going this far into the investigation—certainly not without the squad being more in on it. Jocko's appearance in his apartment had unnerved him—that he could be touched that easily without any backup in place. He hoped that Danny had heard whatever went out on that cell phone. If he said "yes" to working under Brunelli and living here right now, would he ever get out of this house again? Would Danny and the rest of the squad have any idea this was where he was?

Brunelli was walking circles around the platform. He had a switch in his hand with leather prongs and was lightly swishing it on Clint's exposed buttocks, thighs, and back. Clint grunted for him and pulled at the restraints, to no avail.

"Ah, I see that you are getting a little nervous now," Brunelli said. "I can see the glistening of sweat now." The switch stung against Clint's buttocks a little more forcefully, and he gave a gasp followed by a little moan.

"Please," he murmured.

"Please what, Mr. Movie Star."

"Please don't make me wait for it. Fuck me please. Ride me." Clint wanted to get on with it.

"This session isn't just about pleasure, I'm afraid," Brunelli said, his voice taking a harder edge. "You were found cruising the bars, picking up who knows what, and you left the hotel the other day. Jocko had to come get you today. A little lesson is needed on who is the boss here."

Brunelli lashed out with the hand whip, striking Clint five times on the buttocks, back, and thighs.

Clint howled and strained ineffectively against the restraints.

"I'll bet you liked that," Brunelli said, his voice a little breathless from the exertion. "You're such a slut. Jocko, go under and check how much our guest liked that."

"Hard as a rock," a muffled voice reported from under the platform. Clint felt the hand on his cock under the platform.

"Oh god, now, please!" he cried out. He was only half acting.

"Shit. I'm too fuckin' hard already too," Brunelli said. He mounted the platform and then Clint's ass and began pumping him hard. Clint sighed a satisfied sigh. He not only had shortened the punishment but now he also had a thick cock working inside him.

Brunelli went on for a while, with grunts and groans and passing on instructions to Jocko and the other guard.

While Clint was being fucked by the mobster, the other two were busy adding toys. Weights were applied to extend Clint's balls down toward the floor, and a mouth attachment was added to the head gear, which stretched Clint's lips wide and depressed his tongue. A mouth began working his cock from underneath and Jocko was standing at his head with his hands holding Clint's head and his cock using the open channel the mouth gear had created.

Clint came before Jocko did, and Jocko came before Brunelli did.

"There you are," Clint heard Brunelli say as he was lifting his weight off Clint's pelvis.

Clint moved his eyes to where he could get a fleeting look of Brunelli putting his robe back on and taking the arm of a blond guy and moving across to a door into the interior of the house. Greg. Greg Garrison. Clint was sure that was who it was.

At the door, Brunelli turned, and said to Jocko, "Let any of the guards use him who want to and then take him home. We'll be talking again about my offer in a day or two, Mr. Movie Star. Remember, the rest of tonight was because you weren't where I left you when I came back."

Unless he had lost count, Clint figured he was fucked by four different guys while restrained on the platform before he was released and permitted to shower in an adjacent locker room. Then Jocko drove him home, came up to the apartment with him, and pushed him into his bedroom and onto his back on the bed after he'd stripped. Jocko tied Clint's wrists to the headboard, wishboned his legs, and took his own, leisurely—and very satisfying to Clint—turn at the fuck.

Clint had to work his own wrists free when Jocko had gone. When he'd done so—and taken a piss and a quick shower—he went straight to his suit jacket at the kitchen island and fished into his pocket. He fiddled with his cell phone but could find no evidence that his earlier message had gotten through to Danny.

He rang Danny's number. A hoarse-voiced Danny answered. Clint could hear the heavy breathing of someone else in the background.

"Clint? You OK?"

"Yes, I just wondered if anything was up?"

"You could say that. But you got a problem? Need anything?"

So, he hadn't gotten any distress message from Clint. "No, no. Everything's fine. I just thought I'd call and check in."

"You want that I come over there."

"No, it's fine. I'll see you in the morning at the precinct. Enjoy yourself."

He clicked off. This was entirely too much risk. He needed to keep Danny—and maybe the rest of the squad—closer to him. And maybe he needed to find someplace else to bunk out until this case was over.

They were determined to nail Brunelli. But the strange thing was that Brunelli wasn't acting at all like he was cornered. He was offering Clint a longer, closer arrangement, and he didn't act at all like a man under the microscope. And Clint—and it looks like the similar looking Greg—had been with Brunelli multiple times now without getting murdered. Clint—and maybe the rest of the squad—needed to rethink where they were going with this.