Unrealistic
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
6,785
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
6,785
Reviews:
26
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.
Evil mind, evil thoughts
((This is NOT in Mac or Tommy's POV. Beware the dirty mouth.))
Opening his eyes, he sighed. His idoit mother had left the light on again. The bitch. She had no respect for him, for what he went through. No one did. Grimacing, he sat up. God damned his shitty house. Made sleeping in it a real bitch, gave stiff joints and shit.
"Dear? Is that you?" Speak of the bitch.
"What, ma?" Her damned weak voice always pissed him off. If she hadn't gone and gotten a fucked up heart he wouldn't have to work for a job. Then she had to go and play it up.
"Could you get me a glass of water, dear?"
Jesus, who did she think he was? His brother was her lap dog, not him. "Sure, ma." Filling a glass that looked reasonably clean with some tap water, he went to her. "Here." Ignoring her weak and kindly smile, he went back to his room. Maybe if he looked at some girly magizines would cheer him up...
After a few failed attempts to get it up while looking at the centerfolds, his gaze strayed to the lockbox under his bed. Maybe... just a peek.
Licking his lips, he pulled out the pictures. Pictures af those pretty men all tied down and helpless. Shivering, he felt himself get hard. At first girly mags had done it for him. Then he'd needed some fag ones... then slowly that hadn't been enough. Finally he'd had the real thing. But they hadn't been all that cooperative... he'd had to... convince them.
Smiling at the memories, he found himself stroking his dick. Shame, he hadn't gotten to spend much time with them... If he got another one he'd spend more time...
((Gah, sorry that it was so serial-killer shrink down. I just had to give you some insight into the murder's mind =P ))
Opening his eyes, he sighed. His idoit mother had left the light on again. The bitch. She had no respect for him, for what he went through. No one did. Grimacing, he sat up. God damned his shitty house. Made sleeping in it a real bitch, gave stiff joints and shit.
"Dear? Is that you?" Speak of the bitch.
"What, ma?" Her damned weak voice always pissed him off. If she hadn't gone and gotten a fucked up heart he wouldn't have to work for a job. Then she had to go and play it up.
"Could you get me a glass of water, dear?"
Jesus, who did she think he was? His brother was her lap dog, not him. "Sure, ma." Filling a glass that looked reasonably clean with some tap water, he went to her. "Here." Ignoring her weak and kindly smile, he went back to his room. Maybe if he looked at some girly magizines would cheer him up...
After a few failed attempts to get it up while looking at the centerfolds, his gaze strayed to the lockbox under his bed. Maybe... just a peek.
Licking his lips, he pulled out the pictures. Pictures af those pretty men all tied down and helpless. Shivering, he felt himself get hard. At first girly mags had done it for him. Then he'd needed some fag ones... then slowly that hadn't been enough. Finally he'd had the real thing. But they hadn't been all that cooperative... he'd had to... convince them.
Smiling at the memories, he found himself stroking his dick. Shame, he hadn't gotten to spend much time with them... If he got another one he'd spend more time...
((Gah, sorry that it was so serial-killer shrink down. I just had to give you some insight into the murder's mind =P ))