The Devil has Blue Eyes

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Chapter 5 - Party?
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A/N: Wow, over a whole fucking year and only five chapters. Oh well, I'll keep going even if it kills me!

I'm cutting the size of my chapters because I started to get carried away and this chapter got to way over 8,000 words and I was like, woah, I could update quicker if I just cut it into parts and put up the parts I was done with, so, here you go. I'm going to try to edit spelling mistakes and stuff I found in the other chapters because I looked it over and there were a lot.

I'm thinking that since it's so long in between updates that I should probably put up some character bios and story so far summaries so people don't get confused. Maybe when I'm a little less lazy.

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God damn it! He was in the same position again. How had he ended up this way? He was taped and bent over, once again in Mark's big bed. But this time he was . . . . blindfolded? He felt something cold and leathery graze against his rear.

"Did you know that I ride?" Mark's voice was cool and collected, coming from somewhere behind him.

"Wha?" What the fuck?

"Horses. I'm an expert equestrian."

The object he had just identified as a riding crop cracked down hard against his soft bared flesh, and then instead of coming down again it grazed soft circles around the tender spot it had just hit, making it ultra sensitive. To his humiliation, he found himself almost instantly rock hard. He felt invaded when a sure, steady hand came around his front to caress and tease his member, making it quiver. But before he could get too comfortable, the riding crop came crashing down again and again on his other cheek. His squeals of pain turned into whines and moans as he realized he was unable to control himself. The crop was once again gentle, slowly skidding over the sensitive skin of his side.

"You like this, don't you?"

"No . . . this is torture, it's rape."

Mark's deep, throaty laugher seemed to echo behind him. "It isn't rape if you enjoy it. You came in my mouth, remember? You even spread yourself open for me and let me come inside of you."

Tears burned behind Keiichi's tightly closed eyes. The crop continued to thrash him with renewed strength, And Mark's hand continued to stroke him. The crop came down at random, sometimes in the same spot twice, making him cry out because it was extra painful. But instead of being un-aroused, his cock felt ready to explode. The seemingly endless slapping of the leather crop finally ceased, and the hand at his crotch disappeared. He could feel Mark getting off the bed. Just like last time, a drawer opened and a bottle uncapped. Mark got back on the bed and cold lubricant dribbled down the crack of his ass. Again the riding crop cracked. It then traced a line down his crack, making him shudder. It stopped at his hole, tracing it up and down.

"You know, deep down, that you deserve this."

The crop began to enter him. Keiichi could do little but whimper and try to squirm away. Another crop, which Mark must have planted nearby, came down on his backside. "Take it!" The crop entered him fully and . . .

The alarm sounded, waking him up. Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT! He had woken up hard and aroused to a dream he usually only had about Amber's sister. And the crop had never actually entered him before. Oh well, dreams were funny like that. Weren't they? Keiichi had the sinking feeling that he was in trouble. He started an ice cold shower.

It took a long time to get it down, but eventually he did. But when he dressed and prepared for school, his boney friend decided to pop back up again. It was already 7:15 and he was going to be late. Shit, I'll have to do it real quick! He unzipped his pants and sat on the closed toilet, piece of tissue handy. He stroked himself, thinking about all the things that usually turned him on. Victoria's Secret commercials, the girls at school who hiked up their skirts, the time that Natalie Rodriguez tripped legs over head and it was discovered that she wasn't wearing any underwear, Miss Olsen's strappy sandals, the bondage porno he'd once seen at Jack's house, the Green Mountain cheerleading team all servicing him at once.

He looked at the clock. It was nearly 7:30 and he was having problems cumming! Think, think! What usually gets me off every time? He thought about Jessica in all the ways he usually did. Him walking in on her naked, her kissing him, her taking control, her tying him up. But then all of a sudden, it wasn't Jessica pressing up behind him, it was Mark. Mark touching him up and down his body, Mark taking control, Mark licking in his ear, huskily whispering about all the dirty things he was going to do to him . . .

"Aha, ah . . . !" The tissue lay forgotten as he came all over his hands, his neck, the floor.

This is such shit!

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The whole day at school, Keiichi couldn't even bring himself to look at Mark. He kept his head buried inside books, his textbooks, and anything to keep him from looking up. He wasn't able to avoid him during English however. Miss Olsen had a special announcement.

"The winners from the senior literature contest have been chosen, and I'm very pleased to say that two of them are sitting right here in this class! Mark's poem 'Importance' and Keiichi's short story, 'One with Nature' will both be printed in this month's special edition of the school newspaper, which will feature all the winners from this year's senior class. Remember, the author of the piece that gets the most votes gets the honor of writing and speaking the third annual "Farewell Address" at the end of graduation, so read all the articles carefully, don't just skim through . . . "

Just. Fucking. Great. Now if people voted for his story he'd have to speak at graduation. Last week, Miss Olsen had given them an assignment to write about what was most important to them. She'd said it'd been homework, not a frickin' contest! Although Miss Olsen looked really angelic with her pixie cut blond hair and big brown doe eyes, she was known for pulling dirty tricks like this all the time.

For homework, he often tried not to write things that were good because his teachers always felt the need to read his papers in front of thew class if he put too much effort into them. But this time he hadn't been able to help it. He'd written it three weeks ago, right after he'd gotten home from a wild party at Phil's house. He'd been very drunk and was remembering the camping trip he'd gone on with his father last summer and he wrote enthusiastically about his love of nature. By the time he'd read it over on Monday it had been too late to change it.

During free time, Mark stopped by his desk. Keiichi didn't look up from The Grapes of Wrath, something he'd been re-reading without really absorbing all day. Mark's long fingers rested on the edge of his desk. "Good luck with the 'Farewell Address' contest." He started to walk away but then turned back again. "I just wanted to tell you I can't tutor you today, I have baseball practice." Keiichi still pretended to read his book. Mark walked back to his desk.

Keiichi couldn't explain quite what was happening to him at that point. His heart was beating fast and he found himself burning with rage. Am I angry at him, or the fact that he can't see me today? It probably didn't help that he hadn't eaten all day. Mark had been too prevalent in his mind.

His anger at Mark lasted all through government, and it didn't help when he saw Mark chatting with his other jock friends. He wasn't right next to them but he could hear what they were saying while he pretended to sleep. John, who was the captain of the football team, was talking about a party him and his girlfriend were throwing at his house while his parents were on a second honeymoon in Cancún.

"Yeah, Theresa said she wanted to have a luau or some shit, all the chicks will be wearing coconuts and grass skirts. Should be pretty hot."

Jack, whom Keiichi was kind of friends with, then said, "I hope Natalie will let me score."

"Mark's going with Sydney, she's way hotter than Natalie." This was said by a big beefy dude who was also on the football team. He was such a toolbox that Keiichi hadn't even bothered to learn his name.

He's still going out with Sydney . . . For some reason, this bothered him. Did Sydney know that she was going out with a sexual predator? Probably not.

He swallowed when Mark's voice, mellow and golden, once again graced the conversation. "So, who all is going?"

John paused. "Just the usual. No one but us from this class, I think . . . "

"What about Takahashi?"

What? Did Mark just mention his name in public?

"You mean the guy that hangs out with that big titted red-head? I've never seen him at a party. He probably doesn't even drink."

"Nuh uh," Jack chimed in. "He drinks. I saw him a few weeks ago at Phil's barbecue! We were playing karaoke and he was so smashed he started singing 'Wind beneath My Wings' at the the top of his lungs right before passing out. It was so fucking funny, dude, I think someone has it on tape somewhere. You should totally invite him. And the red head, she's so mean she'll have every other chick at the party crying. You have a better chance of scoring with chicks if you comfort them while they're crying."

Wha? They have a tape of that?

"Well, we won't be having any faggoty shit like karaoke, but I heard Theresa's airhead friends going on and on about how all the girls have crushes on him. I guess I'll invite him if it means more girls in coconuts will be willing to come . . . I'll have Phil call him."

Did this mean he was going to a party? He loved parties, but seldom got the chance to go to them because he was so antisocial. Booze and girls with coconuts, I think so! But then he remembered that Mark, too, would be going. Not only that, he had been the one to instigate the invitation. His heart beat faster, panic seized him. But . . . party . . . He sighed. I guess I just can't go.

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Keiichi flopped stomach down on the foot of his bed, turning on the t.v. with a click of the remote. Amber took a seat at the foot of his bed but on the floor, chomping her way to the end of her last Kit-Kat finger.

"Sarah Jessica Parker looks like a horse," she said over a mouth full of chocolate covered wafer. "Turn it to something else."

Keiichi was about to comply when the phone rang. He groaned and reached for the cordless. "Takahashi residence, Keiichi speaking." Amber laughed, as she always did when he answered the phone the way his parents told him to. They make me do it, he mouthed.

It was Phil on the phone. He was also laughing at him. "Oh, hey Phil."

Amber lunged for the phone, yanking it out of his hands. "Hey Phil," she purred in a sexy voice, "so glad to see you're still speaking to Keiichi, he can be such a clumsy dork." There was loud laughter on the other end of the line. Phil obviously had no idea what she was taking about.

Keiichi wondered how she had swallowed that Kit-Kat so fast without choking. She continued to flirt with Phil even though there was absolutely no chance she would ever let him go out with her, as she'd previously established to him time and time again. "Ooooh, a party? At John Parson's house? And you say that Larry Fox 'The Toolbox' is going to be there?"

That must be that meat-head from government class . . .

Amber looked up at him. "Keiichi darling, want to go to a parrrrrrrrrr-ty?"

He smothered his face down into the mattress. "Sure," he said, his answer muffled. What excuse did he have for refusing a cool party? Amber and Phil would think he was crazy.

Amber paused, looking deadly. Phil was obviously saying something she didn't like. "Oh of course, looking forward to meeting her." Amber didn't like other girl's, which was one of the reasons they seldom hung out with anyone else. "Bye Phil. We'll see you and Ashley tomorrow night. Oh, I'm sorry, Amanda. See you tomorrow." She hit the receiver button and recklessly tossed the phone aside, sighing. "Phil will pick us up at eight. I guess I have to go buy some coconuts."

Fuck, I guess I'm going to a party.

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A/N: We'll see you next chapter!

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