𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 // 𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝟶𝟺: 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 ?

𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙻𝙴𝚈

Even in his drunken state he was still a mystery.

I took him home that night to fulfill one intention, and that wasn't to inflict harm on him. I wanted nothing but to show myself a good time as well. I deserved it, and I was sure he could help me with that as I had already helped him.

But I was wrong.

As I laid there between his legs gently brushing my hands over his skin littered with tattoos I began to wonder. Who was he? Where did he come from?

Usually when I entertain myself with prey many questions don't surface. It's just a statement; and that's to get what I want and get out. I wasn't sure why I was questioning myself about him to begin with, or why I wasn't already balls deep inside of him listening to his moans and gruesome cries echo throughout the ambiance of the room.

Before you yourself start to wonder; no. That's not what I stand for. I'm all about consent, believe me. The women I usually bring back with me are whores who enter bars searching for someone to help them forget their troubles. Looking for someone to make them feel something other than their own emotions even if it's just for one night. Even thought she never really wants it to be just one night. The next thing you know you're dealing with a psycho bitch all because you gave her good, temporary dick.

So why was I here with a male of all things you ask? I felt like it was time for a change. Pussy gets repulsive after a while. It all feels the same and all ends the same. It no longer gave me the motivation and drive I needed in order to do what I do. So that night I decided to switch it up.

I didn't make the decision until I saw him. Short yet slim build walking into the building with his head held low along with his spirits. I could sense it. I thought I could've been the one who relieved him of his troubles, and meanwhile he could relieve me of something else. When his colleagues split with him to mingle with the wasted crowd I started to assume his story. Cautious boy being extremely paranoid about his friend. I could tell. Ever since he took a seat in front of me he hadn't moved a muscle or even blinked. He was perfect.

I had to take a chance when I realized he was about to leave. Speaking up was a bold move, I know. I would usually start off by mingling with the crowd so my face wouldn't be as noticeable to everyone who walked into the building, but I was stuck. The bartender who charged me for one drink too many minutes before he walked in had me fucked up. I had to handle that first. And now that I finally had this opportunity to fulfill my newfound needs, something had to be done about it.

He was witty. Never straight to the point, always kept it short and sweet. I loved that about him.
And just him. My subjects would often times make smart remarks thinking I would find it cute, when really I was thinking of how I could make their death slow and agonizing for wasting my time.

We finally managed to bring up a conversation. There wasn't really much to notice about his physical features with the place being pitch dark, the only light coming from the neon flashing ones that would occasionally praise his skin as they flickered on. Still, his voice alone was enough to keep me interested.
When he asked me to help him get fucked up, who was I to oblige? I gave him what he wanted upon request. Afterwards, I knew he'd give me what I wanted upon mine.

But then something changed. I'm not sure what, why, or how- but something definitely did.

I suppose I realized it when we were laid out on the bed. I took my time when slowly peeling off each article of clothing that protected his body underneath being careful not to startle him.

It was when I had started undoing the belt to the jeans that hugged his ass so perfectly, he quickly reached down and grabbed my hand as a frightened look came over him. At first I thought it was him sobering up, but I think he surprised the both of us with his next few words.