Mr X.
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
9,215
Reviews:
40
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
9,215
Reviews:
40
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter One.
[Inspired by Muse, created by me. Reviews hungered after, signed ones in particular, as I love to read the work of the ones who read mine x). Anyone with a good title idea, please, please share. I’m afraid it’s a terrible short-coming of mine. I just can’t think of good titles.]
‘Call me Mr X.’ A giggle filled the air, the darkness that surrounded. His form was tense. Inexplicably te so so rigid it ached, his heart thudded quickly, his breath knife sharp in the panic he felt. ‘So pretty…’ Crooned the voice of Mr X as fingers slid over his bare torso, and in his binds, the victim was filled with the frightening conviction that he was most likely utterly naked. ‘My sweetheart, you are so much more attractive with your eyes in view, with your mouth free to wrought screams, but that would ruin the whole… Helplessness. The dark. You don’t like the dark, do you?’ The victim remained stock-still. A palm connected shockingly with his face as the sound of flesh colliding filled the air. ‘Answer me when I talk to you!’ The victim shook his head furiously. Mr X smiled. This one learnt swiftly. ‘Good boy…’
Fingers wo the the blindfold, the gag, they fell away. And in a moment of irrepressible horror, the victim could not help but scream, a terrible, wounded sound as he saw the state of the room around him, the blood that tainted the bare, water stained walls. Softly he began to sob. Pitiful and frightened whimpers escaped his lips. Mr X felt arousal pooling in his groin at the sight, the sound. He adored when they cried.
‘Shush now… Shush, shush. You will be all right my blonde beauty… Mr X won’t hurt you…’ Fingers ran soothingly through the hair of his young captive, and for a moment Stockholm syndrome seeped through his mind and he was comforted. He settled. Mr X nodded, this pleased him, and the boy obviously had little to no resistance. ‘Talk to me, boy. What is your name?’
‘Darren,’ he croaked out. His voice was raspy, injured, choked. But Mr X adored it all the same.
‘Good boy Darren. You see, you’re making me happy now. And this is a game… The longer you keep Mr X happy, the longer you breathe… When I get upset, I sometimes can’t control what I do. That’s how the rest went. They upset me. You don’t want to upset me, do you?’ Round, terrified eyes met cold, harsh black. Eyeliner and other cosmetics, mascara. Black and errant locks falling into deranged, shadowy features. Mr X was undeniably beautiful, in a twisted and terrifying fashion. Darren knew what was best at this moment though. He shook his head. Mr X smiled. Lips crushed to his, Darren tasted cigarettes, vodka, blood and death as a tongue probed between his lips. He accepted. Mr X must stay happy, so he submitted responsively, the curl of a tongue, the movement of lips, the nipping of teeth. Mr X pulled away and caressed his cheek with a palm. His nails where painted black. He wore plain black. Rings adorned his fingers. And a blade was at his belt. ‘Beautiful,’ Mr X murmured appreciatively. ‘So pure. No one’s ever touched you before, have they, Darren?’ Darren shook his head, even if this wasn’t so necessarily true.
Silence echoed between them. Mr X’s round, dark eyes had moved to watch the street lamp littered body of the metropolis outside. Darren’s eyes looked with horror at the bloody walls.
‘Will you ever love me, Darren?’ Mr X’s voice was soft. Darren felt his chest tightening with horror. How to respond to such a question? And he had the bizarre feeling that Mr X knew when he lied. ‘We can’t ask that yet,’ Mr X suddenly said. He rose upright sharply. He was tall, lean. The knife gleamed. He smiled at Darren, it was a gentle curve of the lips, though his eyes betrayed still that his mind was not quite so stable. A soft thud, and Darren\'s whole body jolted, nerves in disarray. Again, Mr X soothed him with kisses and touches, and Darren settled oddly again. He felt his bounds loosening, and vanishing instantly. ‘We must go take care of some errands, Darren. You will be here when we get back, yes?’ Darren nodded. Already he knew he could not run. Mr X would lock the door. The room was at the top of an apartment complex. ‘Take what you wish from the kitchen, become acquainted with Missy.’
‘What’s Missy?’ Darren asked quickly. Mr X smiled a little tenderly a moment.
‘The kitty. She won’t scratch you. She’s a good girl. She’ll love you. Be a good boy, Darren. And don’t forget. I found you the first time. It will be easy to do so again.’ The tone altered from almost loving to abruptly foreboding, and slowly, Darren nodded. Mr X smiled. ‘Be back soon, sweetheart.’ The door slammed shut, and Darren’s hands moved to cover his face, and as the soft, silken fur of a cat brushed against his stomach, and soft paws padded across his thighs, he began to sob.
‘Call me Mr X.’ A giggle filled the air, the darkness that surrounded. His form was tense. Inexplicably te so so rigid it ached, his heart thudded quickly, his breath knife sharp in the panic he felt. ‘So pretty…’ Crooned the voice of Mr X as fingers slid over his bare torso, and in his binds, the victim was filled with the frightening conviction that he was most likely utterly naked. ‘My sweetheart, you are so much more attractive with your eyes in view, with your mouth free to wrought screams, but that would ruin the whole… Helplessness. The dark. You don’t like the dark, do you?’ The victim remained stock-still. A palm connected shockingly with his face as the sound of flesh colliding filled the air. ‘Answer me when I talk to you!’ The victim shook his head furiously. Mr X smiled. This one learnt swiftly. ‘Good boy…’
Fingers wo the the blindfold, the gag, they fell away. And in a moment of irrepressible horror, the victim could not help but scream, a terrible, wounded sound as he saw the state of the room around him, the blood that tainted the bare, water stained walls. Softly he began to sob. Pitiful and frightened whimpers escaped his lips. Mr X felt arousal pooling in his groin at the sight, the sound. He adored when they cried.
‘Shush now… Shush, shush. You will be all right my blonde beauty… Mr X won’t hurt you…’ Fingers ran soothingly through the hair of his young captive, and for a moment Stockholm syndrome seeped through his mind and he was comforted. He settled. Mr X nodded, this pleased him, and the boy obviously had little to no resistance. ‘Talk to me, boy. What is your name?’
‘Darren,’ he croaked out. His voice was raspy, injured, choked. But Mr X adored it all the same.
‘Good boy Darren. You see, you’re making me happy now. And this is a game… The longer you keep Mr X happy, the longer you breathe… When I get upset, I sometimes can’t control what I do. That’s how the rest went. They upset me. You don’t want to upset me, do you?’ Round, terrified eyes met cold, harsh black. Eyeliner and other cosmetics, mascara. Black and errant locks falling into deranged, shadowy features. Mr X was undeniably beautiful, in a twisted and terrifying fashion. Darren knew what was best at this moment though. He shook his head. Mr X smiled. Lips crushed to his, Darren tasted cigarettes, vodka, blood and death as a tongue probed between his lips. He accepted. Mr X must stay happy, so he submitted responsively, the curl of a tongue, the movement of lips, the nipping of teeth. Mr X pulled away and caressed his cheek with a palm. His nails where painted black. He wore plain black. Rings adorned his fingers. And a blade was at his belt. ‘Beautiful,’ Mr X murmured appreciatively. ‘So pure. No one’s ever touched you before, have they, Darren?’ Darren shook his head, even if this wasn’t so necessarily true.
Silence echoed between them. Mr X’s round, dark eyes had moved to watch the street lamp littered body of the metropolis outside. Darren’s eyes looked with horror at the bloody walls.
‘Will you ever love me, Darren?’ Mr X’s voice was soft. Darren felt his chest tightening with horror. How to respond to such a question? And he had the bizarre feeling that Mr X knew when he lied. ‘We can’t ask that yet,’ Mr X suddenly said. He rose upright sharply. He was tall, lean. The knife gleamed. He smiled at Darren, it was a gentle curve of the lips, though his eyes betrayed still that his mind was not quite so stable. A soft thud, and Darren\'s whole body jolted, nerves in disarray. Again, Mr X soothed him with kisses and touches, and Darren settled oddly again. He felt his bounds loosening, and vanishing instantly. ‘We must go take care of some errands, Darren. You will be here when we get back, yes?’ Darren nodded. Already he knew he could not run. Mr X would lock the door. The room was at the top of an apartment complex. ‘Take what you wish from the kitchen, become acquainted with Missy.’
‘What’s Missy?’ Darren asked quickly. Mr X smiled a little tenderly a moment.
‘The kitty. She won’t scratch you. She’s a good girl. She’ll love you. Be a good boy, Darren. And don’t forget. I found you the first time. It will be easy to do so again.’ The tone altered from almost loving to abruptly foreboding, and slowly, Darren nodded. Mr X smiled. ‘Be back soon, sweetheart.’ The door slammed shut, and Darren’s hands moved to cover his face, and as the soft, silken fur of a cat brushed against his stomach, and soft paws padded across his thighs, he began to sob.