"The Amontillado is just this way," he kept repeating to me, even as the ichor that surrounded us thickened and fairly billowed, swallowing the light of his flambeaux. What was Montressor about? Surely he must take me for a fool to think that he was keeping the bottle of wine this deep beneath the Palazzo. I, Fortunato, would humor his silly joke. It was, in any case, an excuse to enjoy a bottle of Medoc with my boyhood friend. We'd had our spats at school but he'd surely do no real harm to me.

Would he?

I stifled another fit of coughing. The thought rippled through my belly like the sound of nails on a slate board and my cock twitched. It was not the first time Montressor's dark sense of humor and sharp countenance had awakened the shade of a deeper urge regarding him...his hands...his eyes...the other mysteries of his body, but I hissed under my breath at my loins to settle, just as Montressor interrupted my thoughts.

"Proceed," said he. "Herin is the Amontillado. As for Luchresi--"

"He is an ignoramus," I muttered, brushing past Montressor. How many times would he seek to increase my jealousy by mentioning that lunatic's name? I glanced around the room for shelves of wine, but to my surprise the only thing here in this room - well surely it must be one of the mausoleums - was a rather large, ornate bed.

Click.

I whipped around as the door clicked shut behind Montressor. His eyes remained riveted to me as he slowly set his flambeux into the bracket on the wall. I dropped mine, so violently did I find my hands shaking as his black eyes bored straight into me.

"Th-the Amontillado!" was all I could find to say as he took two steps toward me.

"Yes," he murmured quietly as he leaned into my neck, so close I could smell the aroma of the Medoc and the smoke from the carnival upstairs on his clothes. "The Amontillado."

I felt his mouth on my neck then, the rasp of his stubble, the wet of his tongue, and my groin throbbed as my innards wilted. I gasped. His hands encircled my wrists and I made no move to stop him as he ushered me backwards to the bed and cast me down onto it.

"Once more I must implore you to return," he said. "No? Then I must positively leave you...quivering..." this last word barely a whisper as I stared up at him almost in awe, my cock raging against the tight fabric of my party-dress. I watch his hands drift down to his belt and he undid it with deliberation.

"But first--"

Clink.

"I must render you--"

Clank.

"All the little attentions--"

Woosh.

"In my power."

His trousers thudded to the floor and I saw him for the first time, and the last thing I remember before the world went dim, his hands slipping around the back of my head.