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на aarinfantasy хороший человек перевел это на Англицкий **
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--So thirsty.
Akira no longer knew how many hours he had been in this state. Empty-eyed, he lay limply atop the bed on his back.
Up until this point, there had not been many times in his life when his throat had truly felt dry, but just now it was burning up as though he had been flung out into a scorching desert.
Was having one's physiological demands go unfulfilled something that caused pain to this extent?
It was a first-time experience for Akira, who had previously gone about his life without caring much either way when it came to eating and drinking.
It must have been because he had raised his voice.
Harshly toyed with by Shiki--
"............"
Memories of being assaulted all through his body revived rawly at the back of his mind. Akira bit his back teeth together at the sense of humiliation that surged forth in him without ceasing.
In this room where time stopped and the air went stale, his only source of information was the appearance of the sky that peeped in from the window.
That having been said, here in Toshima, where blue skies were all but nonexistent, few changes were reflected there regardless of what the weather was like.
He had been forcibly dragged to and confined here, but it wasn't as though he was being utterly deprived of food and drink.
Each time Shiki returned from going out somewhere, he would bring back some form of provisions--albeit mostly SOLIDs--and water.
He had no intention of killing Akira. After all, his goal was to kill Akira's spirit.
Yet during the periods when Shiki was absent, Akira naturally had no way to feed himself.
He could do nothing without his owner's orders. Forcing him to come face to face with his current powerlessness was no doubt part of Shiki's plan.
When he thought this, Akira was driven by a fiery rage and resentment that seemed about to consume him.
But at the moment, more than that and more than anything else--he wanted water.
In contrast to the intensity of his physiological needs, it was with a terrible sluggishness that Akira lethargically moved his arms and legs.
He could not distinguish whether the sheets were wet or dry; when he brushed them, a chilly metallic sound rang out at the same time as the sound of the sheets themselves.
A pair of handcuffs attached Akira's right wrist to the frame of a window with cracked glass. Shiki had abruptly put them on him right before leaving.
He didn't know what Shiki's intentions were in doing such a thing. Maybe he had suddenly found that it was to his tastes. How very like Shiki, Akira spat out sardonically in his head.
Everything Shiki did to him was beyond comprehension; nor did he have any desire to understand it.
His wrist smarted when the handcuffs scraped it. But he was thirsty--so much so that even the pain began to grow misty.
He looked around with dully moving eyes. From the wall with hairline fractures to the ceiling, from the ceiling to the side of the bed.
Right then, a certain object leapt into his field of view. A plastic bottle full of water that had been set on the side table.
He had the impression that it hadn't been there last night, at least as far as he could recall.
Shiki might have left it there before heading out.
His throat convulsed unthinkingly, but he soon began to have doubts.
--Was it on purpose?
Because, in this state of imprisonment, Akira had no choice but to think that every aspect of how he was treated was meant to degrade him.
Chances were good that with his right hand handcuffed, he would just barely fail to reach the water bottle.
Perhaps, foreseeing that Akira would want it, Shiki had deliberately left that exact distance.
That man enjoyed it from the bottom of his heart: the sight of Akira resisting and struggling. Throughout it, he wore a chilly and sadistic smile.
So clearly, this water, too, was......
"............"
For all that he tried making himself think along those lines, he still wanted it. He couldn't go against the demands of his instincts.
If he hadn't seen it, he would have found some way to make it through this. Once he had glimpsed the bait in front of his eyes, however, his desire for it grew exponentially.
......But he would only attempt it once. It would be all right if he just tested whether he could reach it.
"......nnh"
Even while knowing it was futile, he tried stretching out his left hand. The gap was such that it was uncertain whether or not his fingers were about to touch the bottle.
--Maybe he would reach it.
A faint anticipation ran through his chest. Tensing his stomach, he stretched his arm even further, but in the end it was useless.
Possibly because of that, the hand he had forced in an unnatural direction, with all his strength, violently glanced off the side table.
Unfortunately, the unsteady bottle dropped to the floor.
The water in it dashed around with a wet slapping noise. Even that sound was enough to make his throat rumble.
Tasting disappointment, Akira let out a sigh to diffuse his irritation and once again flopped down on the bed on his back.
Afterward, there was nothing for him to do but wait for Shiki to come back.
Countless times, he unconsciously glanced at the door that led to the corridor.
At some point or another, he began to wonder when those rusted and broken hinges would hurry up and creak.
--This was the worst.
Whatever the reason for it may have been, the final result was that he had started looking forward to that man's return.
Having himself end up like this was enough to make him vomit.
With his thirst at its limits and white fog eating at his vision, Akira vaguely contemplated the ceiling.
Around the time when he had done so for what felt like an eternity, the longed-for sound of walking entered ears that had, barring some small noises, been until then entombed in silence.
The gradually approaching sound of his keeper's footsteps.
At that instant, the proof of possession bored through his navel--the barbell piercing--ached sharply.
His heartbeat, too, started racing.
On the flip side of his will not to surrender, his body was being smothered in anticipation.
Tormented by a self-disgust that he was helpless to change, Akira raised the upper half of his body and watched the opening door.
The room was as colorless as an old photograph, and the man who entered it, enveloped in vivid black, brought with him a fierce sense of presence.
He was the wholly unwilling Akira's owner. A man who, with absolute strength and a will of steel, shattered and overwhelmed everything.
......Shiki.
Upon casting a cool, red-eyed glance at Akira, Shiki curved the corners of his mouth.
"What's the matter? You're making quite the hungry face. Were you that eager for your master to return?"
"............ngh"
Though Akira had hardly seconds before been in what seemed like a near-death state, fury spurted up from the depths of his body at the mockery contained in that blatantly disdainful smile.
Responding with a contemptuous laugh, Shiki came up to the bed, leaned his sword against the wall, and took off and tossed away his coat.
Fingertips covered in black leather gloves seized Akira's jaw. Swathed by the air from outside, those fingers were keenly cold.
"Looks like you went a bit wild. Did you want that?"
At the end of his gaze, which seemed to laugh as he spoke, lay the plastic bottle that had fallen from the side table.
--Shiki saw through him after all.
Akira couldn't help cursing his prior foolishness for falling into Shiki's trap right in the middle of the city; he should have known what would happen then. He glared at Shiki, gritting his teeth.
"You must be thirsty. If you want it, try asking for it honestly. Do so, and it's not that I won't give it some consideration."
Shiki lightly tilted his head. The smile that brimmed about the edges of his mouth appeared horribly amused.
"......Who'd ask you," Akira hissed, staring back with all the strength he could muster, and Shiki, deepening his smile, took his hand away from Akira's jaw.
Grabbing the bottle that he had put back on the side table, he lightly shook it in such a way as to make the sound of water ring out.
Akira's throat unconsciously jerked up and down.
"Do you want it?"
"............"
Of course, he had absolutely no intention of admitting to wanting it. Despite that--his desperate attempt to put up a fight delighted Shiki.
It was unbearably frustrating to know that. Being racked by this inescapable dilemma felt to him much like being burned alive.
When Akira fell into a stiff silence, Shiki suddenly twisted off the bottle's cap.
"......Then you don't need this," he said, inverting the bottle so that its mouth pointed down.
"......!"
Right in front of Akira's eyes, the water let out little splashes as it flowed cruelly toward the ground.
His thirst instantly turned severe. The sound of water entering his ears was close to torture. Simply breathing became excruciating. Even now, he wanted to leap up, snatch the bottle away from Shiki's hand and pour the water down his throat.
To suppress those thoughts, he averted his face.
"Seems painful."
That low, laughing voice came as the sound of water running stopped. Soon after followed the faint sound of clothing rubbing against itself.
When Akira looked over to see what was happening, Shiki had peeled off one of his gloves and was extending that hand toward him.
"......?"
As Akira knitted his eyebrows dubiously, Shiki lifted the bottle with movements that might almost be called elegant, and began pouring its water onto the palm of the hand whose glove he had removed. In this manner, he drew up to Akira's side.
Drops of water overflowed from between those five fingers and trickled down Akira's face.
--At that, he finally grasped what this outrageously arrogant keeper of his was trying to tell him.
"What's wrong? Don't you want it?"
"......ch"
The light of a twisted joy seeping through his eyes, Shiki made even more water flow into his upraised hand.
Its temperature was lukewarm as it ran down Akira's forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks. Even so, the single trickle of water that he could swallow from the gap between his lips was maddeningly sweet.
If he tasted even the tiniest fragment of it, the desire that welled up from the bottom of his stomach would be hard to endure.
As though reading Akira's mind, Shiki put on a calm smile.
"Look. Better hurry, or it'll all be gone."
Because it had been poured at the floor, the amount of water in the bottle had already decreased to below the halfway level.
Even now, before his eyes, the scanty remainder was running down Shiki's hand.
He couldn't take any more than this--no matter how much he fought to resist with his reason.
He no longer knew how many times he had heard it, but while once again listening to the sound of that useless thing called his pride being ground to pieces, Akira leaned toward Shiki's hand.
His lips, parting little by little as they sought water, trembled in disgrace.
At last, a drop of water fell onto and sank into his tongue. It was undeniably--sweet.
An intense sensation, one that made it seem as if light were short-circuiting, sparking and burning at the backs of his eyelids. Intense longing. He wanted to suck it all up, to lap it all up. He felt dizzy.
"............, fu......"
His field of vision rocked--before he knew it, he had taken Shiki's finger into his mouth.
He clasped it with his tongue. He sucked at it eagerly, so as not to let a single drop escape. The lines of Shiki's bones bumped up against the insides of his cheeks. Gradually he traced them.
He was revealing himself to be such a fool...... in order not to think about it, he took the humiliation grating against his mind and chased it into a corner at the back of his head.
"You're like a dog."
There was scornful laughter in Shiki's voice. Those words should have been the finishing blow; they made Akira's body go hot with shame. But he wasn't at the point where that alone was sufficient to stop him.
Such a small amount wasn't enough for him. There was no way it would quench his thirst.
As though to provoke him, Shiki poured the bottle's water into his hand slowly, little by little. Each time, Akira frantically lapped it up.
Though he tried as hard as he could not to make any noise, he wanted to cover his ears at the moist sound that leaked forth when, without meaning to, he sucked harder.
Throat gurgling, Akira kept his sole focus on drinking down the water, but abruptly, Shiki's fingers let out wide incomprehensible movements inside his mouth.
"......!?"
Two fingers caressed the insides of his cheeks and lips, toyed with his tongue, began stirring up his saliva at will.
"nn...... gh, ......!"
When he attempted to turn away, Shiki caught him by the jaw.
Uneasiness drove him to look up, and red eyes smiling in amusement entered his field of sight.
"Use your tongue well, and I'll let you go."
"............chk"
Shiki's fingers violated his mouth with such force that Akira didn't so much as have a chance to glare back at him.
He momentarily saw red with fury. Should he use his teeth to tear up those fingers with all his might? Such thoughts ran through his mind.
Yet, coupled with the thirst in his throat, it was all too painful to stay like this, just letting Shiki do as he would to him.
If he struggled, punishment would be certain to come. The spare energy needed to keep resisting, even while knowing that, was no longer left to him.
Akira shut his eyes hard, as if to resign himself, and met the movements of Shiki's fingers by quietly entwining his tongue with them.
"......ha, ......nnh, mu......"
As obediently as possible. Opposition would not be forgiven. Because the man in front of his eyes was his owner.
But, wanting to show at least a secret semblance of rebellion, he tightly clenched his fists.
How much did he have to degrade himself before Shiki would be satisfied?
The dominator and the dominated. Empty wet noises echoed through the silence as though to emphasize their respective positions.
The saliva he couldn't swallow overflowed, tepidly dripping from the corners of his mouth down to his throat.
If he opened his eyes now, he would see satisfaction on Shiki's face. So, in an effort to detach himself from reality, he kept his eyes closed obstinately.
While he concentrated intently on what he was doing, Shiki's fingers, which until then had been moving furiously inside his mouth, came to a stop without warning.
"......?"
Sensing the peculiarity of this silence and growing suspicious of it, Akira opened his eyelids just a little bit and looked up.
He had been convinced that Shiki's expression would be one of intoxication with causing pain, but instead it reflected nothing. Red eyes just gazed down at Akira fixedly.
"......How idiotic."
A low murmur, as though he were spitting it out.
Pushed away with such force that he ended up lying back on the bed, Akira furrowed his eyebrows distrustfully and watched the side of Shiki's face.
For a second back there, he'd had the feeling that the air around them had gone strange.
It might be appropriate to say that Shiki wasn't acting like himself. Confusion, perturbation. He had dimly sensed such things in the atmosphere, though surely they had the least connection to Shiki imaginable.
......He thought he had sensed them, anyway.
"......What is it?" an even more bewildered Akira murmured, small-voiced, and once again Shiki's gaze landed on him. It was back to usual, high-pressure enough to make him think that the discomfort he'd picked up on earlier had been an illusion.
Shiki wordlessly took the bottle with little water left in it and hurled it savagely at Akira.
"......"
He shut his eyes, blocking off his field of sight. Meanwhile, he heard the creaking of the bed and the dry noise of the plastic bottle rolling on the floor.
Relieved, he started to do an about-face, but the handcuffs attached to his right hand got in the way and kept him from moving as he wished.
Smiling coldly, Shiki climbed up onto the bed.
"......Don't touch me!"
Straddling the struggling Akira's waist with both knees, Shiki pushed him down.
"You aren't satisfied yet, are you? I'll give you as much as you like."
"Who said they wanted......!"
"Even though your eyes have such a starving look in them, hm?"
"......tsk"
While biting the fingertips of the glove his one hand was still wearing and pulling it free, Shiki looked down at Akira, who was at a loss for words, as though he found him entertaining.
Having absorbed water, Akira's T-shirt was clad in moisture; Shiki pulled it up and pressed the palm of his hand unhesitatingly against Akira's skin.
"............."
His breath caught at the ice-like cold of Shiki's temperature. He had the sensation of his hair standing on end, from the place where he was being touched to his sides, his backbone, every cranny of his body.
Mocking fingertips glided smoothly over Akira's abdomen and lightly tugged at his piercing.
"......nn, ......gh"
That alone was enough to make him unconsciously sound a sweet growl in the back of his throat.
Even as he refused Shiki, he was also waiting for him. But he wanted to refuse him to the end. Such was the dilemma of the humiliation that made him think that he might as well finish things by dying.
What was happening to him? He could control neither his heart nor his body. Those things should have been his own affair, and yet it was as if he couldn't keep his balance.
And even that mental anguish of his--surely his arrogant keeper had seen through it.
"Who owns you......?"
At the voice that came in a deep whisper close to his ear, the proof of possession bored through his navel began to ache.
He experienced a profound vertigo, as if he were falling, falling through the dark to the bottom of hell.
"Who owns you......?"
"......tch"
He was gripped and dragged up by his bangs; overbearing red eyes shot through him from right overhead.
His heart beat a large pulse, which to him felt like defeat.
If he looked at those eyes straight on--for whatever reason, it made him lose the ability to resist.
As though it were being affected by some kind of subliminal message, his body stopped listening to him.
No, it wasn't just his body. Somewhere else, in a place separate from his will to fight back, a will that was part of him and yet not his went to work, tried to make him submit.
Almost as if it meant to say that everything would be easier if he gave in.
Still looking at Akira, Shiki used the hand slipped under his shirt to seek out the sensation of his skin.
At times lightly, as though gliding; at times strongly, as though taking him to task for something.
"......ng, ......"
His body reacted no matter how hard he gritted his teeth. Shiki's hand was as cool as ice, and that made Akira stir unnecessarily.
But every time the handcuffs locked around his right wrist let out their inorganic sound, and every time the broken bedsprings creaked--he was forced to acknowledge it.
The reality of the fact that a man was holding him down in this empty, achromatic room, where nothing but dust and particles and hollow time fell and piled up like snow.
His thoughts suddenly went sober. An emotion other than pleasure started to seethe quietly inside him, and he glared at the man in front of him.
Shiki was watching Akira, seemingly so as not to let the smallest signal escape him; he raised the corners of his mouth in answer to that challenging attitude and used his fingernails to scratch at one of Akira's still-soft nipples.
Numbness ran through him. As though to deliver the final blow on top of that, chilly fingers rubbed it scrupulously, crushed it as it began to stiffen, rolled it strongly.
"N, no......"
Together with the dull pain rose a dim sweetness.
His once-sobered thoughts found themselves all too easily disturbed.
It was so aggravating. This heat went on clinging to him even if he shook his head. He clenched his teeth hard enough that they seemed about to creak.
Shiki's mouth covered his other dry nipple. Enveloped in wet sense of warmth, he only had a second to let out a slow breath.
Soon a pain like that of being stabbed by a needle shot through him.
"......!? ku......!"
His body leapt with unthinking surprise. The handcuffs set off a showy noise as they rattled in time with him.
"St, op......gh......!"
Shiki had bitten down on him hard. That spot was growing inflamed and had begun thinly oozing blood, and as he licked at it teasingly, Shiki's lips distorted in obvious contempt.
"That much should be enough for you."
"......tch!!"
His whole body pitching, Akira jerked a knee up, aiming at the Shiki who was straddling his waist.
With one of his arms bound, it was obvious at a glance which one of them was in a superior position, but anger made those kinds of thoughts go flying.
It was incredibly easy for Shiki to catch the knee he'd sent out.
"......tsk"
"What an impressive show of rebounding. Or are you just a slow learner?"
Looking terribly amused, he put a hand to Akira's jeans.
Even if Akira told him to stop, they'd come off soon enough anyway; he couldn't be bothered, and so the buttons went on coming undone.
"Let go! Get off!"
Aware that it was pointless, he nevertheless put up a struggle by kicking out. The handcuff rasped painfully against his wrist, but he didn't have the room to pay it any attention.
Without changing his expression in the slightest--rather, looking down with eyes brimming with a cold delight--Shiki abruptly grabbed Akira's bangs and moved closer as though to cover Akira's face with his.
Such strength brooked no disagreement; it made his temples twitch.
"Answer me."
"............"
--Red eyes that seemed to expose everything down to the depths of his body.
"I haven't heard your answer to what I asked you earlier."
"......Answer?"
"Say it. Tell me who owns you."
--His owner.
As Shiki spoke, something pulled at the piercing in Akira's navel.
"Say it."
"......nh......"
His body overreacted, shuddering with startlement.
Shiki's fingertips toyed with the piercing.
His mounting heartbeat. This man's--his keeper's--orders circled around and around in his head with a terrifying swiftness.
--This is proof that your everything belongs to me--
So Shiki had declared while piercing him.
When his brain began to go numb, the pain dispersed and began transforming to sweetness.
Each time Shiki brushed the proof pierced through his navel, something different from suffering started to well up within him.
"......, ha......"
Shiki gently licked his reddened and swollen nipple.
It was a tingling stimulus, one that made his sighs tremble. In the meantime, Shiki took off his jeans.
This time, he didn't resist. --No; he couldn't resist.
At some point he had begun unconsciously, loosely opening and closing his handcuffed right hand. Frustrated with his inability to do anything about his body, he lowered his eyelids and bit his lip.
Passing into his underwear, Shiki's fingers touched Akira directly.
At the instant of contact, his cool fingertips seems to have a flame-like heat.
"nn, ......hn......"
An icy fire wrapped around his cock as it started to rise.
The palm of Shiki's hand rubbed at it as though to envelop it. When he put more force into the thumb that sealed the tip, grinding down as he pressed at it, pleasure attacked Akira, flowing into him.
"......uuh, kuh......"
The gradually overflowing droplets smoothened Shiki's caresses.
The damp, sloppy sounds echoing through the air ruptured tawdrily in Akira's eardrums. That alone was enough to shame him to the point of death, and he covered his face with his left arm.
Against his will, the sensation of sweetness stopped up in his crotch made even his brain begin to go numb. He was devouring it. He was being devoured.
Fixing one of Akira's thighs in place, Shiki stopped stroking his stiffly erect cock. His hand, wet with precum, slipped toward the crevice between Akira's buttocks.
"......! ......Aa, ah"
A voice that was neither quite a sigh nor a groan came out of Akira's mouth as a finger sank slowly into what he kept tightly clenched.
This discomfort was the one thing he couldn't get used to, no matter what. He was caught by a peculiar feeling, one of being simultaneously bathed in boiling and cold water.
Shiki had none of the gentleness that might have helped loosen Akira's rigid body. Yet he did not use extreme violence, either.
He pushed Akira to the very precipice of what he could continue tolerating.
That itself was what made it impossible for Akira's to completely reject him. Little by little, little by little...... Shiki was opening him.
"......nn, ah......"
The finger that had been swallowed up inside his body stirred as though drawing a circle. As pain and something that was not pain advanced on him at the same time, Akira knitted his eyebrows and roughened his breathing.
Numerous grotesque fantasies of his flesh being languidly scraped out of him began to develop in his fogging brain.
"Want more pain? This can't be enough for you."
"......iih......"
As Shiki spoke, the number of fingers inside him increased without mercy, occasionally scratching at his inner walls as they widened him. Each time, trembling ran through him from within, and he arched his back without thinking.
--Why?
Why me?
The doubt that suddenly rose its head, as if he had just now remembered it, went around in an endless loop.
He considered it in another corner of his consciousness while enduring Shiki's treatment.
Of course, Shiki would perhaps have been fine with anyone.
If that was the case, why on earth......
Was it even possible for Shiki to hope for something of someone?
--Could it be that he hopes for something from me?
"......gh!!"
His thoughts shattered as Shiki withdrew his fingers all at once. Without meaning to, he let out a small moan.
Pulling a small key out of one of his pants pockets, Shiki removed the handcuff from Akira's right wrist.
Akira's strung-up arm fell with a thunk. It felt so heavy that it hardly seemed to be his own. The chafe marks on his wrist hurt.
"Turn over and raise your waist."
That voice, coming swinging down at him all of a sudden, gave Akira the sense that he had just been showered in chilly water. He looked at Shiki.
"......This isn't a joke."
"You don't have the right to choose."
"......tch"
He was so irritated that he became giddy with vertigo.
It was also anger at he himself, who would again end up doing just as Shiki said.
He might as well fight back, turn on Shiki and get himself cut down and killed.
Even though he thought that--
"............"
Though he glared at Shiki all through their long silence, in the end he slowly turned over.
The reason he didn't do more to fight back was also the fault of the ache smoldering in his waist, impossible to erase.
Besides, even if he succeeded in escaping for this one moment, nothing would change.
Tonight and tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and the day after that, Shiki would continue violating him. Until he tired of him.
In the midst of his resignation, the humiliation he mentally chewed at was so agonizing that it seemed about to overcome his pleasure.
Shiki caressed his ass, then spread it open on both sides. The bitterness of his mortification grew steadily stronger and stronger. He shut his eyelids hard.
"......! ......uuh, ......!"
--Shiki was entering him.
The damp sheets felt almost like concrete to him.
He gritted his teeth. He clenched his fists hard enough for his own nails to cut into him.
A hard, fierce heat forced open his narrow tightness.
Discomfort. The feeling of a foreign object. Pressure. Pain. Humiliation. Resignation. All of those came together in one clump and ate away at Akira's body and heart.
"Aa, ah......!"
His back muscles were overly tense, and the tips of Shiki's fingers traced them as though taunting him.
"Ah...... ngh, kuh......uwah......!"
"Is it all right to stop?"
His innards boiled over at that voice, mocking his unhesitant moans. But irresistible waves of pleasure came surging up from the thrusting at his waist. No matter how he tried to suppress it, his voice kept coming out.
He heard a voice somewhere in his head crying no, no. It gradually grew stronger, and the reverberations came closer and closer together.
No, no, no, no.
He couldn't run away.
His reason let out a scream as it was crushed in the space between pleasure and disgust.
How many hours, days, months, how long would it take--
Instead of that, he might as well--
"......ill, me......"
It came spilling unconsciously from between his tightly ground teeth.
"......Kill me......nngh......."
He thought in his heart that it would be all right if he could just hurry up and die.
If he died, he would feel nothing no matter how harshly he was treated.
Even if he were flung away to the side of the road, even if he were cut to pieces.
"............."
Shiki, unresponsive, kept violating him.
Ultimately, Akira understood that words would not reach him. This man didn't care about anything as long as he could enjoy himself.
It didn't matter whether Akira tried to live on or die.
The only noises filling the room were his pathetic groans that sounded like sobs, his wild breaths, and the creaking of the bed.
He did all he could to endure his wretched self, burying his face in the sheets and desperately stifling his voice.
It happened around the time when, as he kept doing so, his consciousness started to drift and mist over.
"............?"
As Akira passively let things take their course, something brushed his shoulder without warning.
In the middle of this kind of behavior, such a small touch wasn't exactly something worth paying much attention to. But next it came to his shoulder blade, the nape of his neck, his arm.
Something was brushing against him...... No.
Being pressed to him?
Suspicious, he was about to turn around when the thrusting stopped, and his right arm was lightly lifted up.
He closed his eyes when his questing gaze reached it. His heart beat a hard pulse.
The wounds on his wrist, made by the chafing of the handcuff--Shiki was pressing his lips to them.
He bit down hard on the same place.
"......tsk!"
Shiki's teeth just barely ate into the scrape-marks' opening. A single rivulet of red flowed down Akira's skin.
A sharp pain shot through him, but the inside of his head was a white blank, and he couldn't bring himself to yank his arm away.
Things like what, or why--even those questions didn't occur to him.
If things went on this way, it seemed like there might be enough force there to tear him to pieces, and a vague terror ran through him at the unidentifiable pressure in the atmosphere.
Shiki licked up the flowing blood without meeting Akira's eyes, and whether or not he knew Akira was watching him, a faint smile came onto his red-stained lips.
That expression made Akira shake with dread.
"Aah, ah......!"
Releasing his hand, Shiki again began moving. The relentless thrusting made a higher-pitched voice come overflowing from Akira.
Perhaps because of what he had just witnessed, alarm bells were still ringing in his eardrums.
His right wrist was hot. Not because of his injury, but because a kind of fever was sinking into him, spreading to every nook of his body.
"Ha, ......gh, ah......"
Something--something like a floating feeling overwhelmed him, and as Shiki penetrated him more deeply, a pleasure that was surreal in its vastness began to swallow him.
On top of that, though it had wilted down until a little earlier, being done from behind had the undeniable effect of making Akira's heat stand erect.
The hand Shiki used to grip him was so wet with the drops flowing from him that it was as though it were bathed in dew.
If Shiki kept his hand moving, clenching him tighter, that alone seemed like it would be enough to make him come.
The same calamity was happening to his body again. He was inwardly flustered by his failure to comprehend it.
Even he had a hard time believing it.
"......nn, Sto......, ah, kuh......!"
In the midst of the rippling sheets, both his hands struggled emptily as though seeking salvation.
He couldn't recognize any of this. Terror shot through him at the intense pleasure that overflowed from inside him like rising waves.
One of Shiki's arms circled around his chest, pulling him closer. A faint current of static ran from his shoulder blade when Shiki lightly bit it.
"......fu, ah......! uuh......"
Again, something leisurely pressed itself to his shoulder, his back, the nape of his neck. What he felt at the same time was Shiki sighing.
Shiki's lips were hot, almost as though he were using his heightened emotions to attack Akira, to clash against him.
It tickled Akira's increasingly sensitive skin and, though he would not have wanted to admit it, felt comforting.
Embracing Akira with both arms, as if to scoop up his waist, Shiki gradually began to speed up his thrusts.
His groans and disheveled breathing growing painful, Akira gulped in a huge breath, and a faint fragrance passed through the tip of his nose.
----Shiki's scent.
Until now, he hadn't taken notice of it even in the middle of sex.
Come to think of it, the palms holding him were soaked with sweat; he experienced an indistinct surprise somewhere in his clouded consciousness.
This man who resembled a cold porcelain doll--were there times when even he let out sweat?
Yet that thought, too, was soon washed away in the heat that pushed Akira to his limits.
"......kuh, ......aah! Ah......"
Shiki was putting pressure on him, piercing him until his body shook like a leaf.
Shiki had slept with him countless times, but it was the first time Akira had found himself ending up like this.
It hurt. He was being swallowed up by lust; he was going crazy.
He had the feeling that the heat gouging his insides over and over had heightened, had grown harder still.
The flame-like temperature that boiled in the depths of coolly indifferent red eyes. He was being burnt up from the inside. He was breaking.
He was being broken--
As soon as he thought that, Shiki's fingers squeezed the tip of his wet and painfully strained cock with a scissoring motion.
His thoughts--his whole body--pulsed and went white. He was being stretched past the breaking point.
".......Uuh, ah, ......aahh......nn!"
Clinging to the sheets, he buried his face in them as he came, trembling.
He couldn't think about anything. The impulse rushing up through him ran roughshod over both his body and heart.
And, doing nothing about the saliva leaking from the corners of his mouth, he emptily waited for that sweet numbness to scatter from corner to corner of his body and dissipate.
"......tch, ......"
The aftermath of it made him go tense, and when he clenched around Shiki from within, he heard a short, rough breath close by his ear.
His waist was pulled up tight against Shiki until a surge of heat came pouring deep into him.
"............"
The remnants of what they had done hung thick in the dim, humid air of the featureless room.
As Akira kept inhaling and exhaling, steadying his breaths, a languid weight eased down on top of him.
Though he had thought Shiki would soon take his distance, he showed no signs of moving.
When he glanced over, Shiki's cheek was close beside him.
A white cheek, lightly coated in sweat but without the slightest trace of a flush.
That color was terribly beautiful, blurring its way into his absent-minded field of sight, and as though pulled in by it, Akira drew nearer.
Just scarcely brushing it, his lips touched Shiki's cheek.
"......!"
He felt Shiki jerk away, startled.
But Akira didn't understand what Shiki was so surprised at, much less what he himself had been doing in the first place.
He didn't want to think about anything; a pleasant limpness was the sole thing that controlled him.
All he sensed right then--was the fact that it had been unexpectedly soft.
Though he had thought for sure Shiki would be colder, more like glass.
By the time Akira finally roused the upper half of his body, Shiki had already put on his coat and was standing with his katana in hand.
He looked at Akira with sharp, cold and unreadable eyes.
"............"
In the end, Shiki quietly turned on his heel and went out without having said a single word from midst of having sex and onwards.
Akira was left there on his own; the traces of heat in him had yet to cool down.
As time went by, he little by little began to regain the ability to think normally.
He couldn't believe how he had exposed himself so foolishly, and in so many ways. His face went hot all at once as he recalled it vividly.
His throat hurt as if it were convulsing. He had raised his voice again.
Faced with the approach of shame and regret, he made excuses by telling himself that it wasn't his fault alone.
It was because Shiki had acted strangely.
If he were punished, toyed with, and ridiculed while being assaulted, he could still let himself be dyed in fury.
Yet--his right wrist, the mark left there when Shiki bit him and blood oozed forth. That smile. He had goosebumps when he remembered the feeling of teeth sinking into him.
A raw and profound possessiveness----could his sensing it have been a hallucination?
The depths of his body and the piercing in his navel let out a sharp, simultaneous pang.
What had Shiki meant by doing such a thing to him? Was it merely a whim?
--A whim. That had to be it.
He slowly tightened his right hand into a fist.
He didn't understand a single thing that man was thinking. He didn't want to understand. Any of it.
Shiki was just doing whatever the hell he wanted, and doing it exactly the way he wanted to. He didn't have any kind of emotions outside of that.
If Akira didn't think this way, there was the danger he might be swallowed up by it.
Lying back, his body still listless, Akira tossed a glance outside the gloomy window.
The wound where Shiki had bitten him stung. Without knowing it, he had brought his wrist to his mouth and licked up the blood that continued seeping out.
His throat was as dry as ever.
But no longer so much so that he felt like he might die from it.
End
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--So thirsty.
Akira no longer knew how many hours he had been in this state. Empty-eyed, he lay limply atop the bed on his back.
Up until this point, there had not been many times in his life when his throat had truly felt dry, but just now it was burning up as though he had been flung out into a scorching desert.
Was having one's physiological demands go unfulfilled something that caused pain to this extent?
It was a first-time experience for Akira, who had previously gone about his life without caring much either way when it came to eating and drinking.
It must have been because he had raised his voice.
Harshly toyed with by Shiki--
"............"
Memories of being assaulted all through his body revived rawly at the back of his mind. Akira bit his back teeth together at the sense of humiliation that surged forth in him without ceasing.
In this room where time stopped and the air went stale, his only source of information was the appearance of the sky that peeped in from the window.
That having been said, here in Toshima, where blue skies were all but nonexistent, few changes were reflected there regardless of what the weather was like.
He had been forcibly dragged to and confined here, but it wasn't as though he was being utterly deprived of food and drink.
Each time Shiki returned from going out somewhere, he would bring back some form of provisions--albeit mostly SOLIDs--and water.
He had no intention of killing Akira. After all, his goal was to kill Akira's spirit.
Yet during the periods when Shiki was absent, Akira naturally had no way to feed himself.
He could do nothing without his owner's orders. Forcing him to come face to face with his current powerlessness was no doubt part of Shiki's plan.
When he thought this, Akira was driven by a fiery rage and resentment that seemed about to consume him.
But at the moment, more than that and more than anything else--he wanted water.
In contrast to the intensity of his physiological needs, it was with a terrible sluggishness that Akira lethargically moved his arms and legs.
He could not distinguish whether the sheets were wet or dry; when he brushed them, a chilly metallic sound rang out at the same time as the sound of the sheets themselves.
A pair of handcuffs attached Akira's right wrist to the frame of a window with cracked glass. Shiki had abruptly put them on him right before leaving.
He didn't know what Shiki's intentions were in doing such a thing. Maybe he had suddenly found that it was to his tastes. How very like Shiki, Akira spat out sardonically in his head.
Everything Shiki did to him was beyond comprehension; nor did he have any desire to understand it.
His wrist smarted when the handcuffs scraped it. But he was thirsty--so much so that even the pain began to grow misty.
He looked around with dully moving eyes. From the wall with hairline fractures to the ceiling, from the ceiling to the side of the bed.
Right then, a certain object leapt into his field of view. A plastic bottle full of water that had been set on the side table.
He had the impression that it hadn't been there last night, at least as far as he could recall.
Shiki might have left it there before heading out.
His throat convulsed unthinkingly, but he soon began to have doubts.
--Was it on purpose?
Because, in this state of imprisonment, Akira had no choice but to think that every aspect of how he was treated was meant to degrade him.
Chances were good that with his right hand handcuffed, he would just barely fail to reach the water bottle.
Perhaps, foreseeing that Akira would want it, Shiki had deliberately left that exact distance.
That man enjoyed it from the bottom of his heart: the sight of Akira resisting and struggling. Throughout it, he wore a chilly and sadistic smile.
So clearly, this water, too, was......
"............"
For all that he tried making himself think along those lines, he still wanted it. He couldn't go against the demands of his instincts.
If he hadn't seen it, he would have found some way to make it through this. Once he had glimpsed the bait in front of his eyes, however, his desire for it grew exponentially.
......But he would only attempt it once. It would be all right if he just tested whether he could reach it.
"......nnh"
Even while knowing it was futile, he tried stretching out his left hand. The gap was such that it was uncertain whether or not his fingers were about to touch the bottle.
--Maybe he would reach it.
A faint anticipation ran through his chest. Tensing his stomach, he stretched his arm even further, but in the end it was useless.
Possibly because of that, the hand he had forced in an unnatural direction, with all his strength, violently glanced off the side table.
Unfortunately, the unsteady bottle dropped to the floor.
The water in it dashed around with a wet slapping noise. Even that sound was enough to make his throat rumble.
Tasting disappointment, Akira let out a sigh to diffuse his irritation and once again flopped down on the bed on his back.
Afterward, there was nothing for him to do but wait for Shiki to come back.
Countless times, he unconsciously glanced at the door that led to the corridor.
At some point or another, he began to wonder when those rusted and broken hinges would hurry up and creak.
--This was the worst.
Whatever the reason for it may have been, the final result was that he had started looking forward to that man's return.
Having himself end up like this was enough to make him vomit.
With his thirst at its limits and white fog eating at his vision, Akira vaguely contemplated the ceiling.
Around the time when he had done so for what felt like an eternity, the longed-for sound of walking entered ears that had, barring some small noises, been until then entombed in silence.
The gradually approaching sound of his keeper's footsteps.
At that instant, the proof of possession bored through his navel--the barbell piercing--ached sharply.
His heartbeat, too, started racing.
On the flip side of his will not to surrender, his body was being smothered in anticipation.
Tormented by a self-disgust that he was helpless to change, Akira raised the upper half of his body and watched the opening door.
The room was as colorless as an old photograph, and the man who entered it, enveloped in vivid black, brought with him a fierce sense of presence.
He was the wholly unwilling Akira's owner. A man who, with absolute strength and a will of steel, shattered and overwhelmed everything.
......Shiki.
Upon casting a cool, red-eyed glance at Akira, Shiki curved the corners of his mouth.
"What's the matter? You're making quite the hungry face. Were you that eager for your master to return?"
"............ngh"
Though Akira had hardly seconds before been in what seemed like a near-death state, fury spurted up from the depths of his body at the mockery contained in that blatantly disdainful smile.
Responding with a contemptuous laugh, Shiki came up to the bed, leaned his sword against the wall, and took off and tossed away his coat.
Fingertips covered in black leather gloves seized Akira's jaw. Swathed by the air from outside, those fingers were keenly cold.
"Looks like you went a bit wild. Did you want that?"
At the end of his gaze, which seemed to laugh as he spoke, lay the plastic bottle that had fallen from the side table.
--Shiki saw through him after all.
Akira couldn't help cursing his prior foolishness for falling into Shiki's trap right in the middle of the city; he should have known what would happen then. He glared at Shiki, gritting his teeth.
"You must be thirsty. If you want it, try asking for it honestly. Do so, and it's not that I won't give it some consideration."
Shiki lightly tilted his head. The smile that brimmed about the edges of his mouth appeared horribly amused.
"......Who'd ask you," Akira hissed, staring back with all the strength he could muster, and Shiki, deepening his smile, took his hand away from Akira's jaw.
Grabbing the bottle that he had put back on the side table, he lightly shook it in such a way as to make the sound of water ring out.
Akira's throat unconsciously jerked up and down.
"Do you want it?"
"............"
Of course, he had absolutely no intention of admitting to wanting it. Despite that--his desperate attempt to put up a fight delighted Shiki.
It was unbearably frustrating to know that. Being racked by this inescapable dilemma felt to him much like being burned alive.
When Akira fell into a stiff silence, Shiki suddenly twisted off the bottle's cap.
"......Then you don't need this," he said, inverting the bottle so that its mouth pointed down.
"......!"
Right in front of Akira's eyes, the water let out little splashes as it flowed cruelly toward the ground.
His thirst instantly turned severe. The sound of water entering his ears was close to torture. Simply breathing became excruciating. Even now, he wanted to leap up, snatch the bottle away from Shiki's hand and pour the water down his throat.
To suppress those thoughts, he averted his face.
"Seems painful."
That low, laughing voice came as the sound of water running stopped. Soon after followed the faint sound of clothing rubbing against itself.
When Akira looked over to see what was happening, Shiki had peeled off one of his gloves and was extending that hand toward him.
"......?"
As Akira knitted his eyebrows dubiously, Shiki lifted the bottle with movements that might almost be called elegant, and began pouring its water onto the palm of the hand whose glove he had removed. In this manner, he drew up to Akira's side.
Drops of water overflowed from between those five fingers and trickled down Akira's face.
--At that, he finally grasped what this outrageously arrogant keeper of his was trying to tell him.
"What's wrong? Don't you want it?"
"......ch"
The light of a twisted joy seeping through his eyes, Shiki made even more water flow into his upraised hand.
Its temperature was lukewarm as it ran down Akira's forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks. Even so, the single trickle of water that he could swallow from the gap between his lips was maddeningly sweet.
If he tasted even the tiniest fragment of it, the desire that welled up from the bottom of his stomach would be hard to endure.
As though reading Akira's mind, Shiki put on a calm smile.
"Look. Better hurry, or it'll all be gone."
Because it had been poured at the floor, the amount of water in the bottle had already decreased to below the halfway level.
Even now, before his eyes, the scanty remainder was running down Shiki's hand.
He couldn't take any more than this--no matter how much he fought to resist with his reason.
He no longer knew how many times he had heard it, but while once again listening to the sound of that useless thing called his pride being ground to pieces, Akira leaned toward Shiki's hand.
His lips, parting little by little as they sought water, trembled in disgrace.
At last, a drop of water fell onto and sank into his tongue. It was undeniably--sweet.
An intense sensation, one that made it seem as if light were short-circuiting, sparking and burning at the backs of his eyelids. Intense longing. He wanted to suck it all up, to lap it all up. He felt dizzy.
"............, fu......"
His field of vision rocked--before he knew it, he had taken Shiki's finger into his mouth.
He clasped it with his tongue. He sucked at it eagerly, so as not to let a single drop escape. The lines of Shiki's bones bumped up against the insides of his cheeks. Gradually he traced them.
He was revealing himself to be such a fool...... in order not to think about it, he took the humiliation grating against his mind and chased it into a corner at the back of his head.
"You're like a dog."
There was scornful laughter in Shiki's voice. Those words should have been the finishing blow; they made Akira's body go hot with shame. But he wasn't at the point where that alone was sufficient to stop him.
Such a small amount wasn't enough for him. There was no way it would quench his thirst.
As though to provoke him, Shiki poured the bottle's water into his hand slowly, little by little. Each time, Akira frantically lapped it up.
Though he tried as hard as he could not to make any noise, he wanted to cover his ears at the moist sound that leaked forth when, without meaning to, he sucked harder.
Throat gurgling, Akira kept his sole focus on drinking down the water, but abruptly, Shiki's fingers let out wide incomprehensible movements inside his mouth.
"......!?"
Two fingers caressed the insides of his cheeks and lips, toyed with his tongue, began stirring up his saliva at will.
"nn...... gh, ......!"
When he attempted to turn away, Shiki caught him by the jaw.
Uneasiness drove him to look up, and red eyes smiling in amusement entered his field of sight.
"Use your tongue well, and I'll let you go."
"............chk"
Shiki's fingers violated his mouth with such force that Akira didn't so much as have a chance to glare back at him.
He momentarily saw red with fury. Should he use his teeth to tear up those fingers with all his might? Such thoughts ran through his mind.
Yet, coupled with the thirst in his throat, it was all too painful to stay like this, just letting Shiki do as he would to him.
If he struggled, punishment would be certain to come. The spare energy needed to keep resisting, even while knowing that, was no longer left to him.
Akira shut his eyes hard, as if to resign himself, and met the movements of Shiki's fingers by quietly entwining his tongue with them.
"......ha, ......nnh, mu......"
As obediently as possible. Opposition would not be forgiven. Because the man in front of his eyes was his owner.
But, wanting to show at least a secret semblance of rebellion, he tightly clenched his fists.
How much did he have to degrade himself before Shiki would be satisfied?
The dominator and the dominated. Empty wet noises echoed through the silence as though to emphasize their respective positions.
The saliva he couldn't swallow overflowed, tepidly dripping from the corners of his mouth down to his throat.
If he opened his eyes now, he would see satisfaction on Shiki's face. So, in an effort to detach himself from reality, he kept his eyes closed obstinately.
While he concentrated intently on what he was doing, Shiki's fingers, which until then had been moving furiously inside his mouth, came to a stop without warning.
"......?"
Sensing the peculiarity of this silence and growing suspicious of it, Akira opened his eyelids just a little bit and looked up.
He had been convinced that Shiki's expression would be one of intoxication with causing pain, but instead it reflected nothing. Red eyes just gazed down at Akira fixedly.
"......How idiotic."
A low murmur, as though he were spitting it out.
Pushed away with such force that he ended up lying back on the bed, Akira furrowed his eyebrows distrustfully and watched the side of Shiki's face.
For a second back there, he'd had the feeling that the air around them had gone strange.
It might be appropriate to say that Shiki wasn't acting like himself. Confusion, perturbation. He had dimly sensed such things in the atmosphere, though surely they had the least connection to Shiki imaginable.
......He thought he had sensed them, anyway.
"......What is it?" an even more bewildered Akira murmured, small-voiced, and once again Shiki's gaze landed on him. It was back to usual, high-pressure enough to make him think that the discomfort he'd picked up on earlier had been an illusion.
Shiki wordlessly took the bottle with little water left in it and hurled it savagely at Akira.
"......"
He shut his eyes, blocking off his field of sight. Meanwhile, he heard the creaking of the bed and the dry noise of the plastic bottle rolling on the floor.
Relieved, he started to do an about-face, but the handcuffs attached to his right hand got in the way and kept him from moving as he wished.
Smiling coldly, Shiki climbed up onto the bed.
"......Don't touch me!"
Straddling the struggling Akira's waist with both knees, Shiki pushed him down.
"You aren't satisfied yet, are you? I'll give you as much as you like."
"Who said they wanted......!"
"Even though your eyes have such a starving look in them, hm?"
"......tsk"
While biting the fingertips of the glove his one hand was still wearing and pulling it free, Shiki looked down at Akira, who was at a loss for words, as though he found him entertaining.
Having absorbed water, Akira's T-shirt was clad in moisture; Shiki pulled it up and pressed the palm of his hand unhesitatingly against Akira's skin.
"............."
His breath caught at the ice-like cold of Shiki's temperature. He had the sensation of his hair standing on end, from the place where he was being touched to his sides, his backbone, every cranny of his body.
Mocking fingertips glided smoothly over Akira's abdomen and lightly tugged at his piercing.
"......nn, ......gh"
That alone was enough to make him unconsciously sound a sweet growl in the back of his throat.
Even as he refused Shiki, he was also waiting for him. But he wanted to refuse him to the end. Such was the dilemma of the humiliation that made him think that he might as well finish things by dying.
What was happening to him? He could control neither his heart nor his body. Those things should have been his own affair, and yet it was as if he couldn't keep his balance.
And even that mental anguish of his--surely his arrogant keeper had seen through it.
"Who owns you......?"
At the voice that came in a deep whisper close to his ear, the proof of possession bored through his navel began to ache.
He experienced a profound vertigo, as if he were falling, falling through the dark to the bottom of hell.
"Who owns you......?"
"......tch"
He was gripped and dragged up by his bangs; overbearing red eyes shot through him from right overhead.
His heart beat a large pulse, which to him felt like defeat.
If he looked at those eyes straight on--for whatever reason, it made him lose the ability to resist.
As though it were being affected by some kind of subliminal message, his body stopped listening to him.
No, it wasn't just his body. Somewhere else, in a place separate from his will to fight back, a will that was part of him and yet not his went to work, tried to make him submit.
Almost as if it meant to say that everything would be easier if he gave in.
Still looking at Akira, Shiki used the hand slipped under his shirt to seek out the sensation of his skin.
At times lightly, as though gliding; at times strongly, as though taking him to task for something.
"......ng, ......"
His body reacted no matter how hard he gritted his teeth. Shiki's hand was as cool as ice, and that made Akira stir unnecessarily.
But every time the handcuffs locked around his right wrist let out their inorganic sound, and every time the broken bedsprings creaked--he was forced to acknowledge it.
The reality of the fact that a man was holding him down in this empty, achromatic room, where nothing but dust and particles and hollow time fell and piled up like snow.
His thoughts suddenly went sober. An emotion other than pleasure started to seethe quietly inside him, and he glared at the man in front of him.
Shiki was watching Akira, seemingly so as not to let the smallest signal escape him; he raised the corners of his mouth in answer to that challenging attitude and used his fingernails to scratch at one of Akira's still-soft nipples.
Numbness ran through him. As though to deliver the final blow on top of that, chilly fingers rubbed it scrupulously, crushed it as it began to stiffen, rolled it strongly.
"N, no......"
Together with the dull pain rose a dim sweetness.
His once-sobered thoughts found themselves all too easily disturbed.
It was so aggravating. This heat went on clinging to him even if he shook his head. He clenched his teeth hard enough that they seemed about to creak.
Shiki's mouth covered his other dry nipple. Enveloped in wet sense of warmth, he only had a second to let out a slow breath.
Soon a pain like that of being stabbed by a needle shot through him.
"......!? ku......!"
His body leapt with unthinking surprise. The handcuffs set off a showy noise as they rattled in time with him.
"St, op......gh......!"
Shiki had bitten down on him hard. That spot was growing inflamed and had begun thinly oozing blood, and as he licked at it teasingly, Shiki's lips distorted in obvious contempt.
"That much should be enough for you."
"......tch!!"
His whole body pitching, Akira jerked a knee up, aiming at the Shiki who was straddling his waist.
With one of his arms bound, it was obvious at a glance which one of them was in a superior position, but anger made those kinds of thoughts go flying.
It was incredibly easy for Shiki to catch the knee he'd sent out.
"......tsk"
"What an impressive show of rebounding. Or are you just a slow learner?"
Looking terribly amused, he put a hand to Akira's jeans.
Even if Akira told him to stop, they'd come off soon enough anyway; he couldn't be bothered, and so the buttons went on coming undone.
"Let go! Get off!"
Aware that it was pointless, he nevertheless put up a struggle by kicking out. The handcuff rasped painfully against his wrist, but he didn't have the room to pay it any attention.
Without changing his expression in the slightest--rather, looking down with eyes brimming with a cold delight--Shiki abruptly grabbed Akira's bangs and moved closer as though to cover Akira's face with his.
Such strength brooked no disagreement; it made his temples twitch.
"Answer me."
"............"
--Red eyes that seemed to expose everything down to the depths of his body.
"I haven't heard your answer to what I asked you earlier."
"......Answer?"
"Say it. Tell me who owns you."
--His owner.
As Shiki spoke, something pulled at the piercing in Akira's navel.
"Say it."
"......nh......"
His body overreacted, shuddering with startlement.
Shiki's fingertips toyed with the piercing.
His mounting heartbeat. This man's--his keeper's--orders circled around and around in his head with a terrifying swiftness.
--This is proof that your everything belongs to me--
So Shiki had declared while piercing him.
When his brain began to go numb, the pain dispersed and began transforming to sweetness.
Each time Shiki brushed the proof pierced through his navel, something different from suffering started to well up within him.
"......, ha......"
Shiki gently licked his reddened and swollen nipple.
It was a tingling stimulus, one that made his sighs tremble. In the meantime, Shiki took off his jeans.
This time, he didn't resist. --No; he couldn't resist.
At some point he had begun unconsciously, loosely opening and closing his handcuffed right hand. Frustrated with his inability to do anything about his body, he lowered his eyelids and bit his lip.
Passing into his underwear, Shiki's fingers touched Akira directly.
At the instant of contact, his cool fingertips seems to have a flame-like heat.
"nn, ......hn......"
An icy fire wrapped around his cock as it started to rise.
The palm of Shiki's hand rubbed at it as though to envelop it. When he put more force into the thumb that sealed the tip, grinding down as he pressed at it, pleasure attacked Akira, flowing into him.
"......uuh, kuh......"
The gradually overflowing droplets smoothened Shiki's caresses.
The damp, sloppy sounds echoing through the air ruptured tawdrily in Akira's eardrums. That alone was enough to shame him to the point of death, and he covered his face with his left arm.
Against his will, the sensation of sweetness stopped up in his crotch made even his brain begin to go numb. He was devouring it. He was being devoured.
Fixing one of Akira's thighs in place, Shiki stopped stroking his stiffly erect cock. His hand, wet with precum, slipped toward the crevice between Akira's buttocks.
"......! ......Aa, ah"
A voice that was neither quite a sigh nor a groan came out of Akira's mouth as a finger sank slowly into what he kept tightly clenched.
This discomfort was the one thing he couldn't get used to, no matter what. He was caught by a peculiar feeling, one of being simultaneously bathed in boiling and cold water.
Shiki had none of the gentleness that might have helped loosen Akira's rigid body. Yet he did not use extreme violence, either.
He pushed Akira to the very precipice of what he could continue tolerating.
That itself was what made it impossible for Akira's to completely reject him. Little by little, little by little...... Shiki was opening him.
"......nn, ah......"
The finger that had been swallowed up inside his body stirred as though drawing a circle. As pain and something that was not pain advanced on him at the same time, Akira knitted his eyebrows and roughened his breathing.
Numerous grotesque fantasies of his flesh being languidly scraped out of him began to develop in his fogging brain.
"Want more pain? This can't be enough for you."
"......iih......"
As Shiki spoke, the number of fingers inside him increased without mercy, occasionally scratching at his inner walls as they widened him. Each time, trembling ran through him from within, and he arched his back without thinking.
--Why?
Why me?
The doubt that suddenly rose its head, as if he had just now remembered it, went around in an endless loop.
He considered it in another corner of his consciousness while enduring Shiki's treatment.
Of course, Shiki would perhaps have been fine with anyone.
If that was the case, why on earth......
Was it even possible for Shiki to hope for something of someone?
--Could it be that he hopes for something from me?
"......gh!!"
His thoughts shattered as Shiki withdrew his fingers all at once. Without meaning to, he let out a small moan.
Pulling a small key out of one of his pants pockets, Shiki removed the handcuff from Akira's right wrist.
Akira's strung-up arm fell with a thunk. It felt so heavy that it hardly seemed to be his own. The chafe marks on his wrist hurt.
"Turn over and raise your waist."
That voice, coming swinging down at him all of a sudden, gave Akira the sense that he had just been showered in chilly water. He looked at Shiki.
"......This isn't a joke."
"You don't have the right to choose."
"......tch"
He was so irritated that he became giddy with vertigo.
It was also anger at he himself, who would again end up doing just as Shiki said.
He might as well fight back, turn on Shiki and get himself cut down and killed.
Even though he thought that--
"............"
Though he glared at Shiki all through their long silence, in the end he slowly turned over.
The reason he didn't do more to fight back was also the fault of the ache smoldering in his waist, impossible to erase.
Besides, even if he succeeded in escaping for this one moment, nothing would change.
Tonight and tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and the day after that, Shiki would continue violating him. Until he tired of him.
In the midst of his resignation, the humiliation he mentally chewed at was so agonizing that it seemed about to overcome his pleasure.
Shiki caressed his ass, then spread it open on both sides. The bitterness of his mortification grew steadily stronger and stronger. He shut his eyelids hard.
"......! ......uuh, ......!"
--Shiki was entering him.
The damp sheets felt almost like concrete to him.
He gritted his teeth. He clenched his fists hard enough for his own nails to cut into him.
A hard, fierce heat forced open his narrow tightness.
Discomfort. The feeling of a foreign object. Pressure. Pain. Humiliation. Resignation. All of those came together in one clump and ate away at Akira's body and heart.
"Aa, ah......!"
His back muscles were overly tense, and the tips of Shiki's fingers traced them as though taunting him.
"Ah...... ngh, kuh......uwah......!"
"Is it all right to stop?"
His innards boiled over at that voice, mocking his unhesitant moans. But irresistible waves of pleasure came surging up from the thrusting at his waist. No matter how he tried to suppress it, his voice kept coming out.
He heard a voice somewhere in his head crying no, no. It gradually grew stronger, and the reverberations came closer and closer together.
No, no, no, no.
He couldn't run away.
His reason let out a scream as it was crushed in the space between pleasure and disgust.
How many hours, days, months, how long would it take--
Instead of that, he might as well--
"......ill, me......"
It came spilling unconsciously from between his tightly ground teeth.
"......Kill me......nngh......."
He thought in his heart that it would be all right if he could just hurry up and die.
If he died, he would feel nothing no matter how harshly he was treated.
Even if he were flung away to the side of the road, even if he were cut to pieces.
"............."
Shiki, unresponsive, kept violating him.
Ultimately, Akira understood that words would not reach him. This man didn't care about anything as long as he could enjoy himself.
It didn't matter whether Akira tried to live on or die.
The only noises filling the room were his pathetic groans that sounded like sobs, his wild breaths, and the creaking of the bed.
He did all he could to endure his wretched self, burying his face in the sheets and desperately stifling his voice.
It happened around the time when, as he kept doing so, his consciousness started to drift and mist over.
"............?"
As Akira passively let things take their course, something brushed his shoulder without warning.
In the middle of this kind of behavior, such a small touch wasn't exactly something worth paying much attention to. But next it came to his shoulder blade, the nape of his neck, his arm.
Something was brushing against him...... No.
Being pressed to him?
Suspicious, he was about to turn around when the thrusting stopped, and his right arm was lightly lifted up.
He closed his eyes when his questing gaze reached it. His heart beat a hard pulse.
The wounds on his wrist, made by the chafing of the handcuff--Shiki was pressing his lips to them.
He bit down hard on the same place.
"......tsk!"
Shiki's teeth just barely ate into the scrape-marks' opening. A single rivulet of red flowed down Akira's skin.
A sharp pain shot through him, but the inside of his head was a white blank, and he couldn't bring himself to yank his arm away.
Things like what, or why--even those questions didn't occur to him.
If things went on this way, it seemed like there might be enough force there to tear him to pieces, and a vague terror ran through him at the unidentifiable pressure in the atmosphere.
Shiki licked up the flowing blood without meeting Akira's eyes, and whether or not he knew Akira was watching him, a faint smile came onto his red-stained lips.
That expression made Akira shake with dread.
"Aah, ah......!"
Releasing his hand, Shiki again began moving. The relentless thrusting made a higher-pitched voice come overflowing from Akira.
Perhaps because of what he had just witnessed, alarm bells were still ringing in his eardrums.
His right wrist was hot. Not because of his injury, but because a kind of fever was sinking into him, spreading to every nook of his body.
"Ha, ......gh, ah......"
Something--something like a floating feeling overwhelmed him, and as Shiki penetrated him more deeply, a pleasure that was surreal in its vastness began to swallow him.
On top of that, though it had wilted down until a little earlier, being done from behind had the undeniable effect of making Akira's heat stand erect.
The hand Shiki used to grip him was so wet with the drops flowing from him that it was as though it were bathed in dew.
If Shiki kept his hand moving, clenching him tighter, that alone seemed like it would be enough to make him come.
The same calamity was happening to his body again. He was inwardly flustered by his failure to comprehend it.
Even he had a hard time believing it.
"......nn, Sto......, ah, kuh......!"
In the midst of the rippling sheets, both his hands struggled emptily as though seeking salvation.
He couldn't recognize any of this. Terror shot through him at the intense pleasure that overflowed from inside him like rising waves.
One of Shiki's arms circled around his chest, pulling him closer. A faint current of static ran from his shoulder blade when Shiki lightly bit it.
"......fu, ah......! uuh......"
Again, something leisurely pressed itself to his shoulder, his back, the nape of his neck. What he felt at the same time was Shiki sighing.
Shiki's lips were hot, almost as though he were using his heightened emotions to attack Akira, to clash against him.
It tickled Akira's increasingly sensitive skin and, though he would not have wanted to admit it, felt comforting.
Embracing Akira with both arms, as if to scoop up his waist, Shiki gradually began to speed up his thrusts.
His groans and disheveled breathing growing painful, Akira gulped in a huge breath, and a faint fragrance passed through the tip of his nose.
----Shiki's scent.
Until now, he hadn't taken notice of it even in the middle of sex.
Come to think of it, the palms holding him were soaked with sweat; he experienced an indistinct surprise somewhere in his clouded consciousness.
This man who resembled a cold porcelain doll--were there times when even he let out sweat?
Yet that thought, too, was soon washed away in the heat that pushed Akira to his limits.
"......kuh, ......aah! Ah......"
Shiki was putting pressure on him, piercing him until his body shook like a leaf.
Shiki had slept with him countless times, but it was the first time Akira had found himself ending up like this.
It hurt. He was being swallowed up by lust; he was going crazy.
He had the feeling that the heat gouging his insides over and over had heightened, had grown harder still.
The flame-like temperature that boiled in the depths of coolly indifferent red eyes. He was being burnt up from the inside. He was breaking.
He was being broken--
As soon as he thought that, Shiki's fingers squeezed the tip of his wet and painfully strained cock with a scissoring motion.
His thoughts--his whole body--pulsed and went white. He was being stretched past the breaking point.
".......Uuh, ah, ......aahh......nn!"
Clinging to the sheets, he buried his face in them as he came, trembling.
He couldn't think about anything. The impulse rushing up through him ran roughshod over both his body and heart.
And, doing nothing about the saliva leaking from the corners of his mouth, he emptily waited for that sweet numbness to scatter from corner to corner of his body and dissipate.
"......tch, ......"
The aftermath of it made him go tense, and when he clenched around Shiki from within, he heard a short, rough breath close by his ear.
His waist was pulled up tight against Shiki until a surge of heat came pouring deep into him.
"............"
The remnants of what they had done hung thick in the dim, humid air of the featureless room.
As Akira kept inhaling and exhaling, steadying his breaths, a languid weight eased down on top of him.
Though he had thought Shiki would soon take his distance, he showed no signs of moving.
When he glanced over, Shiki's cheek was close beside him.
A white cheek, lightly coated in sweat but without the slightest trace of a flush.
That color was terribly beautiful, blurring its way into his absent-minded field of sight, and as though pulled in by it, Akira drew nearer.
Just scarcely brushing it, his lips touched Shiki's cheek.
"......!"
He felt Shiki jerk away, startled.
But Akira didn't understand what Shiki was so surprised at, much less what he himself had been doing in the first place.
He didn't want to think about anything; a pleasant limpness was the sole thing that controlled him.
All he sensed right then--was the fact that it had been unexpectedly soft.
Though he had thought for sure Shiki would be colder, more like glass.
By the time Akira finally roused the upper half of his body, Shiki had already put on his coat and was standing with his katana in hand.
He looked at Akira with sharp, cold and unreadable eyes.
"............"
In the end, Shiki quietly turned on his heel and went out without having said a single word from midst of having sex and onwards.
Akira was left there on his own; the traces of heat in him had yet to cool down.
As time went by, he little by little began to regain the ability to think normally.
He couldn't believe how he had exposed himself so foolishly, and in so many ways. His face went hot all at once as he recalled it vividly.
His throat hurt as if it were convulsing. He had raised his voice again.
Faced with the approach of shame and regret, he made excuses by telling himself that it wasn't his fault alone.
It was because Shiki had acted strangely.
If he were punished, toyed with, and ridiculed while being assaulted, he could still let himself be dyed in fury.
Yet--his right wrist, the mark left there when Shiki bit him and blood oozed forth. That smile. He had goosebumps when he remembered the feeling of teeth sinking into him.
A raw and profound possessiveness----could his sensing it have been a hallucination?
The depths of his body and the piercing in his navel let out a sharp, simultaneous pang.
What had Shiki meant by doing such a thing to him? Was it merely a whim?
--A whim. That had to be it.
He slowly tightened his right hand into a fist.
He didn't understand a single thing that man was thinking. He didn't want to understand. Any of it.
Shiki was just doing whatever the hell he wanted, and doing it exactly the way he wanted to. He didn't have any kind of emotions outside of that.
If Akira didn't think this way, there was the danger he might be swallowed up by it.
Lying back, his body still listless, Akira tossed a glance outside the gloomy window.
The wound where Shiki had bitten him stung. Without knowing it, he had brought his wrist to his mouth and licked up the blood that continued seeping out.
His throat was as dry as ever.
But no longer so much so that he felt like he might die from it.
End
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18.09.2008 в 03:49-
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18.09.2008 в 14:04только это займет неделю(
а вообще...это офигительная истроия ** про то, как Шики поит Акиру с руки....только я не знаю, это из Игры, или из Игры для PS2? потому что скрин с данной сценой видела, а в игре найти его не смогла Оо"
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18.09.2008 в 14:27Неделю *_*. Некоторые такое месяцы переводят ) *_* Буду с нетерпением ждать этого перевода.
Это из версии на PS2 ) Но в PC-версии такой момент тоже есть, просто к нему нет картинки, насколько я знаю.
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19.09.2008 в 02:20ну так я человек увлекающийся. уже перевела 8 из 13 страниц с грехом пополам Х) правда, бетера, в ночи кадрат от такого перевода хватит...но это уже не моя проблема)
Но в PC-версии такой момент тоже есть, просто к нему нет картинки, насколько я знаю.
хм. что-то не встречала там ни такой озвучки, ни такой сцены...а вроде бы момент "украшения Акиры" не раз просматривала...Оо
Хот Пс2 для этого покупай..><
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02.10.2008 в 20:25-
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03.10.2008 в 11:54-
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03.10.2008 в 13:04-
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26.07.2010 в 14:45