Big Poppa ~ Part II

3.
Poppa didn’t answer any question about Siarl, no matter how the boys tried. He quite liked the efforts though; he was grinning and chuckling all the time. Finally, a few hours after Jean had arrived, they could hear a car outside. The boys perked up, and anxiously waited when Poppa opened the door.

“Rick!”

“Siarl!” Slaps on the shoulders, and frantically shaking hands, but no hugs. “Come in, man... It’s goddamn snowing!”

Delwyn and Jean simply stared, at what appeared to be the opposite of Big Poppa.
At first impression, Siarl was handsome. Or rather; he was impressive, like Poppa, but in a completely different manner. He was dressed in black leather pants and black snake-skin boots, and a wide, black dress-shirt with open collar. His hair, also black, was long and flowing. It had to take a good hair stylist or a lot of patience in the morning to get it shiny like that. He had a short beard and mustache, like his friend, but it was black and cut to perfection. He wasn’t wearing any jewels, except for one broad, steel ring on his left thumb.
And he was big.

It wasn’t clear why the man appeared to be so big, as he was significantly smaller than Big Poppa. He was broad-shouldered, with long, strong legs and slender hips, but he was no bear like his friend. And yet, there was something about him, making him fill the cabin with his mere presence.

Jean only blinked when Delwyn poked him. His mouth was hanging open. “Ugh,” he brought out, without moving. Poppa had said something, but he didn’t hear it.

Siarl shook Delwyn’s hand, and looked him up and down. “Pretty indeed,” he complimented with a blinding smile. “Well done, Rick my friend... And who might your other friend be?”

“Get up,” hissed Delwyn, pulling Jean at his arm.

Jean stood, and looked up to the dark-haired man, eyes wide and jaw still dropped. The man took his hand, making him shiver slightly. The hand was warm. Jean hoped his wasn’t wet, by now.

“What can I call you, beautiful...?”

“Anything you wish,” answered Jean before he knew it. Laughter from his friends brought him back to earth. “I mean,” he shook his head, his hand still held by the man, “Jean. My name is Jean.”

“Jean...” Siarl lifted his hand, and pressed a kiss on Jean’s fingers. “Not ‘Jean’ like the French say?”

“No, I...” Of course it was meant to pronounced like that. It was just that he liked the female name more. “I like the sound of it.”

“So do I,” assured Siarl. “My name is Siarl. I would be pleased to return the favor though...”

Jean made a soft sound of despair, and was glad his hand was finally freed from the warm grip. He shuffled to Delwyn, hoping on some kind of support. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods...

“Take a seat, Siarl... Drink? We were having wine.”

“That would be wonderful.” Siarl walked to the love-seat next to the hearth, and sat in the middle of it. “How is life treating you, Rick? You look absolutely marvelous, I must say.”

“That’s what a caring husband does to you,” Poppa grinned, handing him a glass of wine. He refilled the other glasses. “You should try it...”

Jean didn’t know how fast he had to go to the kitchen, tugging Delwyn with him. He could still see the men, and overhear them, but at least he wasn’t too close anymore. “Oh Del,” he whispered. “He’s amazing!”

“I must say... I agree. He’s very handsome indeed. At first I wasn’t too sure about Poppa inviting his friend, but I’m glad he did...” Delwyn opened the cabinets to take plates and knives, so they could prepare dinner.

Jean would make his stuffed peppers. He had done it so often by now, preparing it took no time at all. All the time he was glancing at the two large men; Poppa in his chair and Siarl in the love-seat. They were talking, mostly about how Poppa and Delwyn were together so happily, and now even married. Jean just loved those deep, rumbling voices.

“Oh, by the way, Rick... That man you gave me, six months ago? That... what’s his name.” Siarl snapped his fingers, thinking hard.

“Mark,” helped Poppa. In the kitchen area, Delwyn jerked around.

“Him! Yes. He’s in the hospital.”

“What?” Delwyn quickly walked to the man. “He’s still in a hospital?” He had no clue what Poppa had done to the man. They never talked about it.

Siarl looked up, his eyebrows pulled up. “Still?” he asked. “No, since last night... That’s why I was not at the club,” he continued, looking at Poppa. “I was at the police station to make a statement.”

“What happened to him?” Poppa asked with a grin.

“One cock too many,” shrugged Siarl.

Delwyn sat down in the same seat as Siarl, staring at him with wide eyes. “Wait a second,” he said. “Mark had one cock too many? Could you please explain that to me?”

The authoritative man smiled at him, shifting to make more room. At his other side, Jean sat down, with a bowl. It contained slices of red and yellow bell peppers. “Oh! Thank you,” said Siarl, taking a piece. He didn’t notice Jean’s look as he bit with taste. Jean offered him a paper napkin, which he took without looking. He took another piece from the bowl.
“I own a club,” he said. “Six months ago, Big Poppa came in with a man, and he told me to... How did you say it, Rick?”

“Stuff his ass so full it would come out of his ears,” helped Poppa.

“Ah, yes. Quite. So I gave him to my guests and let them to it.” He took yet another piece of pepper. “I love peppers,” he said to Jean. “How did you know?”

Jean couldn’t reply, as Delwyn wanted to know much more. “I don’t understand, Siarl. What kind of club do you have? What happened? And how can he be in the hospital now, while Poppa punished him six months ago?”

“He came back for more, didn’t he,” Siarl said with a pleased grin. “I own a very special club, sweetheart. It’s called the Black Lotus. It’s a BDSM club, for members only. It takes some paperwork and money to become a member, but once you’re in, you’re on your own.”

“One of the papers required, is a statement that you’re HIV-negative,” Poppa volunteered. “After that, you have to give those statements every... three months, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. I like to keep my club healthy. I have rubbers available for free, but I buy more paper towels than condoms. Anyway. Poppa came in, handing over a struggling, rather upset man, ordering me to... what he just said. He kept screaming, so I gagged him, and then I brought him to the dome.”

“A dome?” Jean bit in a pepper. “Not a dungeon?”

“I have dungeons,” Siarl nodded. “I have different rooms, for each fantasy. But the dome is for public play. They... I’m not sure I should go into detail,” he abruptly said.

“Please do!” the others exclaimed in one voice.

The man laughed softly, made himself more comfortable -he sat close against Jean, who didn’t object- and he began to tell them what happened to Mark. “The dome is large, round, with black-lights and candles. It’s a very nice room, I have to say. It has three slings and two cages, and of course the usual rings in the walls to chain slaves if they are out of business for a while. Your friend Mark got strapped in the middle sling. He couldn’t move or make a sound. I believe he was a virgin...”

“I’m pretty sure he was, yes,” nodded Delwyn, who listened in awe. He couldn’t help to get excited as he imagined the dome. He could see Jean’s blush, and knew he felt the same way.

“Well, they spanked him for a while, until he stopped yanking at those restraints. I watched from my office. I’m not usually keen on watching my guests, not anymore, but this I had to see. His tight little butt hole got greased and spread thoroughly, and he received his first cock. Despite his gag, I could hear the scream all the way up to my office. Believe me, my darlings; it sounded utterly delighted.

“You’re kidding!” Delwyn gasped.

“Hah! I knew it,” laughed Poppa. “So he survived...”

“Oh, yes... He survived. I believe he had seven, that day. And at least three climaxes himself. They didn’t need the gag after a few eh... fillings, and used something else to keep him from screaming.”

“Oh, my gods...” Jean shivered, hanging at every word. The other two were just as enchanted.

“Anyway...” After another slice of pepper, Siarl wiped his fingers, and leaned back. One arm lifted to the back of the seat, behind Jean. He idly toyed with a strand of Jean’s hair before continuing. “We left him in the alley behind the club, naked, but with his clothes so he could dress up and leave. He could go to the police, of course, but I keep security tapes. He would stand no chance in court.”

“Perv,” giggled Jean, poking the man’s side.

Siarl winked at him, with a pleasant smile. “Four weeks later, I received a form, a statement and a check. I had a new member.”

“I knew it!” Poppa slapped his thighs, laughing short and hard. “He came back for more!”

“Oh, yes. There was no stopping him. He came by every month, and voluntarily offered himself for the slings. Always the slings, nothing else. He became a true sperm-junkie, and was abused every month, much to his delight. Until yesterday. Could you please hand me my wine, Jeanie?”

Jean hastily put the bowl down and took the glasses, handing one to Siarl. “What happened?” he asked breathlessly.

“It takes a few weeks to get over such sessions. That’s why we saw him only once a month. But this time, he came back after two weeks. It’s like an addiction, I like to believe; in the end you only want more. So he hadn’t completely healed, and yet he got strapped in that sling again. The first two cocks were okay. I could hear his orgasm all the way up. He’s loud,” he nodded at Poppa. “Just like you said he would be. Enfin, the next cry was of pain. But that was no use. He should have given a safe-word. He never thought about that, apparently. So they fucked him until he was bleeding, and we had to call for an ambulance.”

“Will he be...” Delwyn pushed his cock in a better angle. “Will he be okay?”

“Oh, of course. He’ll have to use laxatives for a while though. I had to go to the police to make a statement, and they had a good laugh.”

“Yeah. They probably thought ‘not him again’, when you came in,” grinned Poppa. “Kinky, isn’t it?” he said to Delwyn. “I can see it turns you on. You should visit the club sometimes.”

“Oh, can we?” Both young man put up wide, pleading eyes. “Can we please see your club, and have a tour?”

“It would be my pleasure!” Pleased, Siarl pulled both boys against his shoulders, Jean a bit firmer than Delwyn. “I will take you with me tomorrow, if you like, and give you the grand tour.”

“I better come too,” Poppa said. “I don’t want my pretty to end up in one of your beds, or it has to be with me.”

“You’re all welcome. Now.” He let Delwyn go, and turned his attention to Jean. “I can smell delicious scents coming out of the kitchen, Jeanie, my little kitchen prince...”

“It will be done in a minute,” Jean managed to reply, looking up at the handsome face. “If you care to let me go...”

“Mm... Okay,” Siarl smiled, slowly retracting his arm. “If you insist...”

Jean followed Delwyn like a sleepwalker. “I’m in love,” he whispered when they were out of earshot. “He’s amazing!”

“I would scold you, if it were anyone else, but I’m afraid totally agree with you,” Delwyn whispered back. “He’s hot, handsome, and he has great stories to tell. I’m so going to fix you up with him...”

“You don’t have to,” Jean mumbled, glancing over his shoulder. He saw Siarl looking at him, and quickly looked away. “Gods, and I’ll sleep next to him tonight... I can’t think about it, or I’ll come in my pants right now!”

Poppa grinned at Siarl, and gave him a fat, all-knowing wink. “Nice?”

“Mmm... Very nice. I just hope he isn’t into all that sadistic stuff. I see that all day, every day. I rather have a sweetheart, like you have.”

“Your club will definitely turn them on, though... And me too!”

“That’s okay,” laughed Siarl. “I’d be happy to give you a room for a while. But Jean...” He smiled again, glancing at the kitchen. “I think I’d rather help him myself.”