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oxygenic · Ehemaliges Mitglied

Eigentlich garkein Fanfic... Einfach nur ein Fic.
Achtung: Bondage
Sprache: Englisch
Wer vll. nicht so gut englisch kann sollte doch das http://dict.leo.org/ benutzen das ist gut

The suit fit perfectly, it made the man in the mirror pretty masculine and handsome.
I pushed pack my glasses and ran my fingers through my black hair. ‘Man I’m tired’ I thought and closed my eyes for a second and almost fell asleep. Finally the doorbell rang and I instantly opened the door. Eyes still closed I stooped to kiss my boyfriend welcome. A pair of hot lips welcomed me.
“Hey Kouki” the teenage boy said and entered my apartment – our home. He put his schoolbag on the floor and said “You asked me to bring my suit; I even went home for you…” he said, wanting praise for his heroic deed. “I’m sorry Harouta, you just don’t fit in mine…” I said laughing. “Put it on! I don’t want us to be late…” I told him while he undressed in the bedroom. “You…um… you never went eating dinner with me… you know…?” my boyfriend said and I thought about it – actually it was true. “Well then, I hope you behave good” I replied. “Why can’t we stay at home…?” he begged whilst entering the kitchen.
He just looked lost in this suit. Yes, sure, it made him look like maybe 18 but it wasn’t him – Harouta. “I don’t feel ease” the young man said and racked his head. “It’s just for tonight, okay? Charles is already waiting downstairs…” I said and held the door for him.

As Charles drove the car in front of the restaurant I reminded Harouta to do what I told him to. He nodded cheerless. We sat down at my table in the corner and his red hair disappeared behind the menu card. ‘How could I tell him this, without hurting him too much?’ my head was burning – the whole day I’d thought about that problem.
The waiter already stood beside me, waiting for my order “I’ll go for the hare” “Sure mister, and what would you like?”
Harouta was still looking for something, he seemed even more lost “Pick something for me…” and very hesitant he added “F-father…”
I had to grin. Since one week I tried to make him call me ‘father’ in public so we won’t get any trouble but he refused every time it told him.
Almost relieved the waiter straightened up and turned to me again “He’ll have the Caesars Salad with an extra plate vegetables” I said, closed the menu and handed it to the waiter.
“You’re putting me on a diet!” the small one said happily. “You’re going to draw me, right…?” hopping cheerfully on his chair. I closed my eyes in agreement.
“For whom? For whom? Kouki…” he said all excited. His voice was getting louder and people where staring to look at us, wondering what a man my age would do with a teen boy. That was exactly what I had tried to avoid. I decided to tell him, he would know anyway if I’d tell what he would have to do. “It’s for Mrs. Gretchen…” I said quietly without putting any emotion into it. I already knew the reaction of my little one.
His face fell “What?! You promised me not do draw for her again! You promised!”
“I know I know Harouta, but…”
“What? Do you like hurting me…? Do you like breaking the promises you make?”
“No! Okay? I… am in the need of money…” I couldn’t even look at him. I was such a bastard. Using a small boy for the money I make.
Harouta stood still for a moment.
They never discussed money. It was always him paying for Harouta.
“I…why…?” he said chapfallen.
“I can’t afford an apartment, a car, a driver, my materials and a boyfriend without selling or making any paintings!”
He pressed his lips against each other until they became white.
“She pays as always, I believe?”
“Sure…” I said.
“Then it’s okay father, I’ll do it” he said, looking straight up to my eyes.
There was nothing worse he could have possibly said to me.
Sure it wasn’t nice that we got problems almost everywhere we went, but calling me father, in a moment of weakness was like hitting me in the face. He was mad at me, I could tell, but for now, I was too.
Trying to break the icy atmosphere he caused Harouta apologized “I’m sorry Kouki. What does she want this time?”
The waiter silently stepped next to them and passed them their plates.
I put some of my food in my mouth and stayed quiet.
“You don’t want to tell me…right?” Harouta said. I could smell him getting angry.
“You’re going to get a trainer again…” I said but kept on eating.
“A frontal?!” he almost yelled at me. I gave him my death-glance “Keep it quiet boy!” I threw back at him.
“Boy?! That’s how you call me now?!” he stood up, without even touching his food. And he left. Like he always did.
Me, I didn’t even look at him as he tramped out of the door.
The waiter took his plate and left me eating alone.
I ate in complete silence; I paid and headed the road home with Charles. As I thought I found Harouta in my apartment – he had nowhere else to go. While leaning against the door frame I examined the boy who lied in my bed. He had red short hair, his hair was red everywhere – yes, I even checked his axillary-hair that time he didn’t waxed it off. His eyes are closed but I know they’re green. Oddly enough I remember his eye colour, I never do that – sometimes I even forget my own.
“Quit looking at me” Harouta grumbled from the bed “And come over here…” he said while he rolled over his side of the bed. “Why do you always lie on my side of the bed?” I asked him in a playful voice. “It smells like you…” he said in such a sweet voice I couldn’t do anything else than crawl over him and kiss his lips.
“Hey Honey…” he whispered to my ear and pushed my body onto his.
I have to admit, I love it when he does that. It makes me feels like a teen boy and him like a 37year old man. His hands are working under my chemise; I just enjoyed it.
My lips are touching his collarbone and my hands grip firmer onto his short red hair while he pulls down my zipper. With the tip of my tongue I lick over his cheek and kiss him from time to time. “Strip ‘em off Kouki” Harouta asks me when he is finished with the zipper. I throw my pants on the floor and start undressing my counterpart.
In silent anticipation he licks his lips while he looks at me unbuttoning his pants. Surprised I observe that he is not wearing any panties. I put my head in my neck and glance at his green eyes “I was waiting for you…” he said desperately. I knew him better than he thought – he was seeking forgiveness.
I accepted his apology and took his pants off. My hands were steadily caressing his inner tights while my mouth was too. A little whimper made me look to his face. “What’s wrong?” I asked concerned. “I didn’t wax…” he said, his eyes begging for forgiveness “That’s okay…” I said and resumed my work.
I remembered that day, I first had him. We were together for a month or so and while getting started he refused to take his shirt off. When I asked him why he said that he got some hair on the chest and that he’d forgotten to wax it off. Since he knew me he waxed. Maybe that was because I told him I have a fetish for young muses. And for him being young is a matter of body, for me being juvenescent is a state of mind. That’s exactly what I told him, but he kept waxing, and I appreciated it.
Another whimper made me look onto his perfect face. “Kouki… please…” he cadged with a husky voice. I smirked, he was so obvious.
I lifted my body over his and hugged him while our groins where touching. He groaned and rubbed his body against mine.
He was so easy.
I felt his hands touching my shoulder, I felt them slide down my spine, grabbing my ass and slipping through my cheeks, caressing me with one finger.
He was so perfect.
Now it was my turn moan into the kiss he gave me. As he entered me with his finger I strained my body to his, bit him in his nipple and sucked it. I was absolutely growing hard on the boy’s doings and I felt his aroused mind in the deep kisses he gave me. My hand was searching for his sex, as she found it, I grabbed and knuckled. My hand was moving up and down between or hot bodies. The teens breath quickened and I put his legs over my tights and pulled him closer to my body. “Lube…?” is asked in my lusty voice. He shook his head and pinched his eyes, anxious of the coming pain. I took my dick in the hand and placed him at his entrance. As I pushed my whole body more to his, I felt his compressor squeezing my tip until it almost hurt. Nuzzling myself further into him, I had to brace myself not to scream.
Am I dreaming or did he get tighter since the last time?
Slowly moving completely out and in again, I knuckled down to his lips, kissing him passionately. He sucked my tongue into his mouth and started teasing it. My hand reached down to his shaft and stroke it determined. Harouta was so damn tight – I knew I wouldn’t stand much more. I moved quicker and our bodies smacked against each other in ecstasy. His hips started to move in my rhythm, he was close too, I could feel it. My thrusts became deeper and somehow more violent as my climax neared. Small hands touched my hips and he pulled my body nearer to his. His mouth wide open he moaned even louder. I didn’t want the neighbours to know so I gently slipped two fingers in his small mouth, he immediately closed his mouth and liked them. My ledge was burning – I was aching to cum inside of him. He screamed as my hand heighten her force on his prick
I flexed my back and showed my joy by exclaiming his name. Harouta climaxed just after my warmth extended in his stomach. Heavily breathing I slid my fingers into my mouth, licking his liquor with pleasure.
The afterglow slowly wafted away and I lay down next to him. Instantly, he cuddled his body against mine and purred “You’re cute when you scream my name” and gave my shoulder a little kiss.
I nodded and gave him a wee kiss on his forehead.

Ms. Gretchen had specific ideas. She wanted the object to be bonded. The body should be displayed with open wounds and screaming in pain, turned towards the viewer.
As I read the letter from her bureau I had to gulp. How could people possibly like the view of a child which was suffering? I sat down at my table, wondering how I could tell Haruto. How could I make him accept without violating his trust in me?
Steps came up to the apartment and I heard keys jingle. No, I wouldn’t stand up and open the door for him – not today. He entered my room and looped his tiny arms around my body. I leaned against him and exhaled “Morning beauty” he mumbled in my ear and kissed the tip of my nose. He looked at my hand and saw the letter; quickly he took it and read it. I listened to the sound of paper being balled and thrown away.
“You’re going to do this to me?” his voice overturned “You’re… you’re still doing this, right?” He sniffed “I hate it! I hate it when you do those things to me! Like not watching me when I talk to you! Like using me in that way!” he was screaming behind my back and I hadn’t turned his way. I knew it just had to happen that way. Slowly turning my chair so I could face him I said “It’s not just for me Harouta, it’s for us…” and left the room.

Harouta wouldn’t come out of that misery room before dinner.
While I cut the tomatoes he said “After all, you’re paying me…” and started talking like nothing happened.

It was early in the morning as I left the house. The car stopped and I stepped in the gorgeous light. My surrounding was bare. No trees, no green, just that big hall in the middle of nowhere. Ms. Gretchen bought the whole land, it was inhabited since 1947 and apparently it was perfect for the embodiment. I even recognized some places from other shoots I had seen at her chalet. The bag with all the materials got heavy and I decided to go in the hall. There were no doors, just one little entry at the back. I already heard Harouta arguing with a woman.
First of all I saw Ms. Gretchen with wooden lath in her hand. Then I could see my boyfriend tied up on a water wheel struggling.
“No! Not with that THING!” he was desperately yelling at her. But he couldn’t move – and couldn’t avoid the first slap on his ass. Harouta arched his back, jerked his head upwards and sucked air into his lungs “Ungh” he whined.
As he saw me his eyes got wider and he tried to cover himself up. “Naked and ashamed?” Ms. Gretchen said laughing and beat him again.
I saw my boy suffering for the sake of art and it made me unfortunately horny.
To call attention to myself I coughed unnaturally loud.
“Sit down Kouki-Sama” she said in her wicked voice “and watch.”. In an unbelievably rapid rhythm she hit Harouta with the lath. Amazed of the sound and the effect it had on Haroutas body, I didn’t intervene when he begged me to help him.
In trance I watched at her movements. Suddenly she stopped and changed tool. Now it was the time for the metallic rod.
“Now, Kouki-Sama I want you to concentrate and listen carefully. The sound my favourite tools makes is just stunning. On young bodies this one has my favourite effect.” She stroked out roomy and the metal boomed onto Haroutas damaged body.
His face distorted in unbelievable pain “Yawh...” he exclaimed almost soundless, his eyes stretched wide open.
I stood up “Enough” I shouted at her and came closer.
“Don’t you dare destroying my art, Kouki-Sama” she said angrily, pointing out the finger at me, fire burning in her eyes.
Frightened I stepped back and sat on my chair for a second time. She was right, this was art.
“Start making the background” Ms. Gretchen commanded and resumed her work.
With shaking hands I took my colours and mixed them together – I had the right feeling – this was going to be one of my best.
I was so into the drawing that I didn’t heard her changing the tool again. As I looked up from the canvas I saw her slapping his ass with a whip. It made no sound at all, I tried to concentrate on it but I couldn’t hear anything. Suddenly I saw something drop, the grey stone floor was honoured with a colour – the red colour of blood.
I had forgotten my little one, this was too much! “Stop it right now Gerta!” I said. “It’s enough.”
“No” she said in a firm voice “No!”.
I ran to her, took her wrists in my hands “Enough!” I screamed. The whip fell out of her hands and her body relaxed.
“Punish me with the nine tailed cat.” Ms. Gretchen said rustily. “Look, your boy made me all wet” she said while slipping her fingers under the short skirt and holding them under my nose.
Disgusted I wrinkled my nose. It was long ago I smelled the female fluid.
Laughing limply she licked her fingers. “I want it by the day after tomorrow my dear” she said. Leaning over to me she affirmed “You found a good muse.”
I turned around to Harouta “Is it over…?” he said with a faint voice. I wanted that boy in my arms right now but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t destroy the art Ms. Gretchen had made up for me. “Not yet Baby…”I answered gave him a small kiss on his cheek “Not yet.”

The last stroke was made twelve hours later. It had become darker but I had that image in front of me and I couldn’t stop. From time to time I heard Harouta shivering. It was getting cold in the hall and he was all bare. As soon as I finished I put my coat around the boys violated body. I undid all the strings at his limbs and a sight of relief slipped through the wakening boy’s lips. “Kouki” he said relieved with a coarse voice “I knew you were going to save me…”
“Can you stand?” I asked while I held his shoulder which weren’t that abused. “Carry me...” he begged. I moved in front of him and put the light body over my shoulder.
As I stepped outside Charles was waiting in the car for us. I put Harouta in the second seat-row of the car and lifted my tired self next to Charles.
“Don’t look at him like that you bastard” I said harshly and fastened the seatbelt.

The next day I woke up at twelve o’clock. That’s the good thing about being an artist; I can sleep as long as I want to. I went into the kitchen to get myself something to drink as I realized that he hadn’t been in the bed as I woke up. Anxious, I was looking for him all over the apartment. I found him having a shower and praying. The water which floated away was light red, he was cleansing out his wounds. I knocked on the doorframe and entered the room.
He opened his eyes, saw me and closed them again, still whispering his prayers. As I came closer I heard him saying the confessions.
“What are you confessing for?” I asked him. He looked at me and murmured “For your sins”. “What?” “I beg the lord to help me forgiving your sins…”he tried to explain himself.
“What sins? You’re talking nonsense!” I was getting angry – and this even before my shower!
Harouta turned around so I could see his wounds. His back was red all over, it bled and I think I could even see flesh. “See…? How could I forgive you to let someone do this to me?” he was sincere. He waited for an answer and I kept quiet. “That’s what I thought…”. Stepping out of the shower and taking a towel he said “I don’t understand you Kouki…I thought… I dared to think that your love for the art was overtrumped by the love for me.” “I don’t love you” I said harshly “Then why do you keep me here? Why don’t you get rid of me…?” his voice became whiningly “Because I appreciate your closeness…”I said and stepped under the shower. There were no deep meanings behind my words, just deep history.

Our relation grew cold. We didn’t touch anymore – not more than the needed words where exchanged. We didn’t eat together like we used to. He slept on the couch in the living room. Sometimes I caught myself sitting next to him just looking at his face while he was sleeping.
In my closet I found the clothes he wore the first day we met. When I close my eyes I remember everything exactly. It was on a Monday. I know that because my castings always begin on Mondays. He was the third boy I saw, and I fell for his beauty. I didn’t want to see the other boys, there were nothing compared to him, and I immediately told him. His smile was so beautiful, I was wafted away.
But I do remember bad times. For example where his parents found out what he was doing and with whom he was doing it – they wanted to get the police involved. Harouta had to decide if he would stay with his parents or come, live with me. After long weeks he decided, he would leave home.
That was the time, my body got sensible too every touch the boy gave me. He was 15 years old at that time and I was ashamed of my lust for him. One night, he came to my bed and just lied next to me. “Why are you doing all this for me?” he asked and after a while I said “Because I appreciate your closeness…”.
I so remember the time he asked me what he was for me. When I said he was my muse, he fainted. The doctor in the hospital told me, he had a nervous breakdown. Sure, I asked him later on about it and he said that he had hoped me to tell him what I feel for him.
I tried to put my non-exsistend feelings into words and he caught it up the wrong way. “You don’t have to tell me Kouki, I already know” he said and embraced me for the very first time. It was the first time I let someone call me Kouki unpunished.

He came in the kitchen and watched me doing dinner for myself.
“Would you go to a parent’s reunion if I would ask you to?”
I gave him a short answer with two letters without even looking at him. “But they want someone to go there…” “What for Harouta?” I asked and turned to him “I don’t know” he said while looking on the floor. “Very well then, tell your parents about it…I’m certainly not your father”. His voice trembled in anger “You know I gave everything up for this! Please would you go there?” he was obviously begging me to go. What should I have done? Of course I went there.

I took the woman’s hand and shacked it and smiled. There was nothing else to do
“Please, do sit down” she said and sat down herselft “I asked you here because we have some problems with Harouta…” “Problems?” I asked surprised. “Yeah… I am the psychologist of the school and I get to talk to Harouta very often…” “Oh… well, what did he do?” I was perplex I never saw that coming!
“Well I think as you know him very well, you know he used to be such a happy and glaring child… well he is not – not anymore…” I nodded to make sure she continued “What happened to him… what happened to your child?” she was fixing him, waiting for an answer
“Listen, I don’t know, okay? Our contact... were not… were not as close as we used to be…”
Now she nodded “How many hours a day you spend with him?”
Nervously I started to bite my nails. How I hated the way she had to ask me that question.
“Nowadays… not at all…” I was so ashamed I didn’t look at her.
“That’s interesting… Well I did some tests with him and he seems to have a father complex… can you follow?” “Sure…” I said, my whole body relaxed – this was about his father, not me…
“Very well…then could you tell me what happened?” she asked again.
“I don’t think I can help you here miss…”
“You don’t think this concerns you, do you?”
“I… erm… no…” how should I tell her?
“It’s your son for Christ sake!”
“No, that’s not right…” I replied in a low voice.
“I beg you pardon?!”
“I…um… he lives with me but I’m not his father…”
“I don’t care if you adopted him, but it makes you his father anyway!”
“No! I’m not his father!”
“Then why did you come when I asked his father to?”
“Well… the thing is… his parents don’t want to know about him…”
She didn’t ask but a silent question lay on her face. I wouldn’t answer
“Then why did you come?” she asked.
“He… he is my lodger…”
“He can’t live as a subtenant – he’s not full age” her looks pierced through my body. That was a point I haven’t thought of while telling this lie.
“I know he’s not, but he does.”
“He couldn’t pay you… he’s not earning any money…”. She was right.
“Mister Sung, what exactly is a boy which is almost 17 years old doing at your living place?”
I swallowed “I… erm… he lives with me…”
“What is he doing for you mister Sung?”
“N…nothing”
“Mister Sung I will talk with Harouta about this. And if you are abusing this child in any possible way, you will pay for it. I promise.”
“Don’t get the wrong idea miss…” I said angrily while I stood up. I was not going to clear this misunderstanding.
Without saying anything else I left this school.

While throwing my handbag in a corner of the hall I saw Harouta coming from the bedroom.
“What happened Kouki?” he asked confused by my bad mood.
“You will have to tell everything to your teacher, I believe.”
“Tell her what?”
“You living at my place” I said while passing him by. He ran after me to the living room “What?”
“I told her I’m not your father…”
He sighted and leaned against the door, shaking his head.
“Why do you have to destroy everything? Why Kouki?”
“I didn’t destroy ANYTHING. Okay? You are the one who makes problems!” I threw back at him.
“But… YOU were the one who didn’t want to apologize! YOU were the one!”
“Apologize for what? Being an artist? Using my muse how normal people would?”
“I’m NOT your muse DAMN IT. I’m your fucking lover since one year! I now I’m more than your muse but I want you to tell me! Tell me and I’ll stay…”
“You have no where to go anyway…” I said. His words touched me deep inside. It was true, he was more than a muse. He was my boyfriend. I thought I told him one day, but apparently I never did.
“There are plenty of people were I could go to… I packed my stuff Kouki, this can’t go on…”
My heart ripped apart. It fell in two big peaces and lied heavily on my stomach.
“You… you’re going to leave?” He nodded without looking at me.
“You CAN’T go! You can’t leave me like this after one and half years!”
Shocked, he looked up to me. I was pronouncing feelings here. Feelings for him.
I stood there; I couldn’t watch my relation breaking here, now, in front of my eyes.
“Kouki…” his voice softened “what exactly am I for you?”
I swallowed hard. “You… you’re my boyfriend… I thought…”
His little body collapsed against the door. “Oh god, Kouki” he said crying.
Scared, I kneeled next to him, checking if he was okay. Harouta took my hand and said “I’m so happy Kouki. You make me so happy…” he laughed within his tears and kissed me.

somali · Engel Beiträge: 67

o.O" Ok, ich hasse den Seme... was für ein Arsch... der süße Kleene hat definitiv was besseres verdient... ^^"" die Fic an sich ist interessant geschrieben, aber der Inhalt... <.< wie gesagt... argh >.<""