Runneth Over

And then there was the day all eyes had been scared wide open to my true colors. Vampirism pales in comparison to those things which I've found truly thrill me. The day's events cascade into greys of indeterminate profit. While that day, the eighteenth of August, did introduce me to an outrageous world of slings and arrows only a murderer's brain could ever bear, I did also gain relation with the love of my life as a result of what I did. To this day, one cross never outweighs the other.

No one understood me, not then, and not even now. I was just as black as soot to them. Oh, how gnarled their faces were in disgust and fear of me the first day I'd dredged my pitiful face up from deep within that flaxen, innocent youth that they had all known so very well, then, and even now. They had found themselves in such a state of belief as though I had around me a fog of obscurity which shrouded my humanity in corruption. They passed judgment upon me, using as evidence of my corruption my sable, stringy hair which held in it a coil of vague waves; my cruel, shineless aureate gaze; my deathly pallor; my sharp fingernails; my tapered incisors... Perhaps their opinions of me are not so entirely unfounded, but they never knew me, and never made any effort to learn. Pitiful humans. Loathsome family.

~*~*~

I detested my brother and his fiancée for having re-enrolled me at Saint Lucy's of Cheneve. "How dare they put me on the level of humans. I am so much more than those miserable wretches. I have evolved beyond my limits, and they could have never dreamed to achieve the strengths I've reached!" I growled.

I snatched up the book on my nightstand, then cracked the pages open and threw myself back on my bed, trying to take my mind off of the iniquity of my family by burying myself in my latest read: Shelley's Frankenstein. I didn't get much further than the murder of William before becoming so enraged that it brought me to tears. With a single, flustered motion of my hand, I flung the book away, unknowingly adding to the force with my telekinesis out of my rage. Its landing resonated throughout the wall. "Damn you all, vermin of Hanehasu. I spit on your graves in vile contempt of this curse you've cast upon me, under a façade of benevolence. I now live in contempt of my own power, for it separates me from everything I've ever known. I hope you rot."

I buried my face in my upturned palms, having sat up on the side of the bottom bunk of the bed I share with my elder brother. I sighed, exhausted, both in body and in mind. I realized that I'd given myself a nasty papercut along the my right palm, parallel to my knuckles, and stared at the slice, blank, as blood seeped up to the surface. The bright red mark made me giggle, images dancing in my head. "Forget the daggers in my eyes... It's the daggers of my mind you've to worry about...!"

I cackled, mad, making the first cut, which flew straight through the very bones of my hand, taking off my fingers at the point where the papercut had been made. The cartilege and bones cracked loudly as the razor-sharp force was exerted. The severed fingers, still attached by the knuckle, fell to the bed, with only resistance from the surface tension of blood and subcutaneous fluids. I tittered, delighted both by the agony I'd wrought upon myself and by the scent of blood I'd derived. I stuffed the chunk of flesh in my mouth, knuckles first, sucking on it deeply. The coppery, saline taste trickled down my throat and coated my tongue, and the texture of my own marrow tickled me deeply. My gaze followed to my oozing half a hand and gave a guttural laugh. I was enjoying myself thoroughly.

After a minute, it sank in that I was able to feel the sensation of sucking on my knuckles, and went wide-eyed, a grin slowly creeping my cheeks to mount upon my face. 'My nerves are still psychically connected! I revelled, sucking harder and digging my fangs in between my knuckles just to feel it. I curled my fingers up to wrap around my thin, aquiline nose. Having those throbbing nerve endings prisoner to oral satisfaction made me burn with arousal, and I pressed my half-hand against my mounting crotch. "How do I love this? Let me count the ways," I mumbled dementedly. Still in my mouth was the flesh, having reduced me to mumbling.

"Are you okay, Keiji?" my mother Anne called after me from the hall, walking in on my little game. "I heard something fall—" She stopped in her tracks when she noticed the bloodshed that foiled the sapphire sheets, and her eyes shot wide. I could visibly tell her stomach had lurched. She almost fainted when she realized my hand wasn't attached to my wrist, and vainly sought the door frame to keep her standing. "God in Heaven," she uttered.

I curled my index, ring, and little fingers down to my lips, leaving just one pressed up against the tip of my nose. I let my hand fall to my lap so my tongue could lash out at her. "Go to Hell. You never were strong in spirit. Must you seek righteous intervention for what you cannot possibly comprehend?" As a deterrent that she might return, I sliced off the rest of the arm, my glare not leaving her petrified eyes. As it fell to the bed, I cackled, picking it up with my left hand and flinging it at her. She screeched, dodging it in flight from the bedroom. The severed appendage, the blood vessels of which were open on both ends, struck the wall beside my doorway with a wet, spongy squish. I shivered, chuckling at the sound it had made.

It sank in once she had left that I had damaged myself without actually contemplating whether I could put myself back together again. I lost my humor for a moment, and in all seriousness, scooped up my arm and brought it back to me from where I sat, using my kinesis. I held it by the forearm and held it up to the chunk of hand that was in my lap. With a little concentration, I got my regenerative abilities to pull together a seam between my fingers and my hand, and, once enough connective tissue had been formed, I turned the appendage skyward, admiring the rapidly scarring wound in my palm. I laughed contentedly, flexing those fingers as though the arm were still connected to my body. "Delightful," I mused. For safe measure, I cut off my other arm at the shoulder, shuddering as blood gushed from the gaping joint; then, my attention fell to my engorged crotch, and I recalled how it had felt to have my knuckle in my mouth.

Laughter fell from me in a heartbeat, my eyes wide in excitement. I glanced up at the doorway and smirked, nudging it shut with my kinesis. Then, I shirked out of my pants and boxers, already shirtless. I stared at my penis. Eight inches was an average size, I assumed, but comparisons never were my strong suit, considering my position. I took hold of it gingerly in the fingers of both hands, never before having touched it for such a cause as self-gratification. I played with it a little, then let both hands fall to my sides, glaring at my erection for a moment, contemplating actually doing it. I made up my mind, shrugging off the acknowlegement of the pain that would surely ensue, and pressed it upward against the tendon's pull such that it stood straight up, perpendicular to my body, then making quick work of it, having severed it just above my testicles. I threw my head back with a bloodcurdling scream, the pain so intense that I choked on my own vomit. Shaking terribly, I slowly managed to pull my head back up to glance down at my crotch, which was now a pool of blood and pubic hair. I looked down to find my member near my feet, and brought it to me with my dismembered hands, delicately handling it such as to keep it from further pain—for now, at least. After all, this was my first time experimenting with auto-masochism. No need to turn the volume up to max on the first go...

I pulled it nearer to my mouth, shakily glancing down at its darkly-colored, bruised head. I kissed it gently as a way of apologizing for having put it through such pain as this, then lost all compunction and wrapped my lips around it, licking its seam from beneath. I convulsed in ecstasy, my virginity giving such a sensation deeper meaning. I sucked on it, moaning loudly; the vibrations of my vocalization put me to another wave of shivers. The longer I did it, the more pressure I applied to it with my tongue, escalated my pleasure in the act. A piercing heat overwhelmed me soon afterward, starting from my oral victim and surging throughout my body, and I tensed up in sheer delight. I realized that naught had spilled forth into my mouth, and, confused, I pulled my penis out of my mouth and glared at my crotch, soaking wet with my seed.

"Ha, that's rich...! The testes aren't attached, so I didn't come out of my dick!" Contemplating it further, I wondered whether that was lucrative, since I hadn't a clue what it tasted like. I dipped a fingertip in what had been relinquished from my oral pleasures, and brought it to my lips, smelling of the saline stuff before licking it off. After swallowing it, I decided it was... an acquired taste, and left the arrangement as it was.

I grew bored after a minute and threw my arms at the wall, letting them explore for themselves. I let them rest somewhere near the ceiling for a moment, deciding to purge myself of my lower half. "Legs are such useless members of the body. They have no tactile capability, no way to grasp, to hold anything...!" I threw them off the end of the bed with my kinesis, then settled down in the bed, nestled in my enormous but now bloodsoaked feather pillow. All the blood and cum had soaked in through the mattress, and I could hear it dripping onto the hardwood floor.

I clicked my tongue in distaste, then curiously had my arms scale to the ceiling. I chuckled, bending my head to the side of the bed a little to watch myself do such a thing, then snapped back up to cover myself when I heard the doorknob turn.

"How're you, Takeru?" Toshi inquired, poking his head of butt-length orange-blond, braided hair through the door. His pale blue eyes caught sight of my clothes in a heap at the foot of the bed and he broke a nervous sliver of a smile. "I was starting to wonder whether you were asexual, little brother."

I blushed deeply at his comment, not looking at him. I chuckled in my head, closing the door silently behind him. I baited him to come further into the room. "Must I admit to you that I actually have a crush on someone...?"

He gave a short, anxious laugh, wandering slowly nearer to the bed. 'There we go.'

"We all know you like Meilin," he accused with a grin. "It's pretty obvious."

"Ha, that's amusing. That may have been the case six or ten years ago, but many things have changed since then... especially my taste... I'm sixteen now, going on seventeen... I think I have every right to pursue my desires..."

The tone in my voice made him apprehensive. He had yet to notice my legs in the corner, or the blood on the sheets. "You... you don't mean me, do you...?" He began to take a step back, but was cut short, myself having let my left arm drop from the ceiling and cling to his right. His voice cracked. "T—Takeru...?"

"You look nice today, clean-pressed... Hnn, no, I don't have a crush on you, exactly, but you're just exactly what I need—easily manipulated, and easy to get a rise out of. I love it when you fear me, dearest nii-san. I love it when you scream."

He twitched, realizing that it actually was a hand that gripped his, brought to tears as I slowly revealed myself by pulling down the covers for all to see. "H—what the hell are you doing...!?"

"Raping you out of boredom and experimentation," I replied nonchalantly, letting the other hand follow suit, hovering just to his side. I slapped his thigh swiftly, producing a blood-laden snapping sound that made him cry out.

"Oh, God!" he screamed, glaring first at the pool of blood beneath me that had practically poured through the bed, then again at me. "What the hell do you think you're doing!? You've... you've pulled yourself apart!" He saw my mutilated crotch and he cried, his stomach vainly seeking upheaval. "GOD!"

I reveled in his mental heartache, and giggled when I considered the effect this interaction would have on anyone that would have overheard it. "Don't forget the incest," I ground with a grin, jamming his right arm up such that the hand was forced flush between his shoulder blades. "The horror! The scandal!" I mocked. I pulled the other arm up with my kinesis and entwined the right hand beneath the left elbow, so that my hand could hold back both of his with little effort. Then I moved to pull up the hem of his T-shirt and unbutton his pants with my "free" hand. I chuckled, stuffing my hand down in his boxers without unzipping his pants. I groped his crotch lovingly, just to get him to squeak in humiliation. "The look on your face, nii-san! Oh, if you could simply see yourself now!" I cackled madly, glaring at him.

It must have sunk in at that moment that my legs had to be somewhere if my hands had dropped in for a visit, and he shivered, chilled by the revelation. "Touto-san, don't do this...! Please...!" His eyes glistened in pitiful tears.

I grimaced. "You talk too much." I picked up my cock with my kinesis (he obviously hadn't seen it personally prior to that, on account of his horrified reaction) and chuckled, glaring at him, wide-eyed in delirium. "Catch." Then, I jammed it headlong past his lips.

He bit me and I recoiled in masochism, grinning as a squinted a little. "Bite me again. I like that." Seeing that he hadn't fazed me, but instead spurred me further, he whimpered, knowing he couldn't fight back. The look in his eyes let me know just exactly the effect his reactions had on me.

"Yeah, it may be cut off, but that head in your mouth can feel everything you do to it. Delightful, is it not? Go on, lick it. See what it does to me!" I lavished back on the bed in anticipation of the waves of pleasure I was forcing him to put me in. His tongue had retreated as far back in his mouth as it would go, so I shoved my penis further within in search of that saliva-drenched, fully-articulate muscle of untold lust. "Oh, come on, nii-san! Don't be such a baby! You'll like it! I just know it."

He merely sobbed, untensing his tongue and letting it touch me. The look in my eyes probably gave him the impression of a threat that I would do the same to him as I had done to myself; though I knew that I preferred him in one piece, I wasn't about to dissolve that disillusion. It was to my advantage, after all, that he think this way. I shoved him down to fall on his knees, preventing him from running away; I weighted his calves down with my own.

Once he actually began giving it some attention, I began to give him some as well. I unzipped his pants, then pulled down his boxers and teased him some more. I could clearly tell that he loathed every second of this, and frowned mockingly. "I'm making you physically ill, aren't I? The scent of tainted blood... the taste of residual semen... ahh, the realization that you're being raped by body parts that aren't even attached!? Ohh, please, expulse the very contents of your bowels for sake of sheer objection! Please, be sick... be sick of me...!"

I could honestly tell he was on the brink of vomiting, just from the sheer smell the room had adopted in the past half hour. I giggled at his disgust.

"Oh, suck harder! You're not even trying!" I let go of his crotch to slap his stomach again, then let the hand grope its way up to his face. "How can I even have fun with you if you're not having any fun yourself? Enjoy this!" I bellowed, grappling his face and shoving my dick down his throat.

He squirmed, bawling. Not normally one for homosexual tendencies of any kind, I was certain he'd never had any experience with deepthroat, so I cut him some slack and pulled back to where I was. A threat, again, was good enough to control him. "If you don't want me to lodge myself in your esophagus, you'll suck, bitch."

He immediately—gratefully—started pleasuring me orally, and the attention hit me so hard that it caused me to throw him unintentionally back on the floor; I writhed in glee. Both of us moaned, Toshi out of nausea, myself out of ecstasy.

My free hand wandered beneath the bed and spittered around in the blood enough to get some good moisture on it, then flew back to groping and rubbing on his crotch. The choice of lubrication was the last straw for him, and he gagged, spitting me out and throwing up to the bile. Tears streaming down his face, he ached for all he was worth.

"Done reviling, you little freak?" I spat, put off that he had had such weak composure. I used to look up to him.

"You're certainly one to talk," he managed to retort, albeit weakly.

"Oh, sass from the bitch!" I crowed, slapping him upside the face with my blood-covered hand, then putting myself back in his mouth. "Shut up and suck. I'm not going to stop again just because you threw up, you pussy."

Fearing me, he did as he was told, knowing full well it was a terrible idea to piss me off. I went back to groping him, reveling in the power I held over him. The look in his eyes was just so precious...

He finally managed to get himself into the mood somehow, having closed his eyes in denial as he lay there, so still as he tongued me skillfully. I'd never in my dreams imagined that he of all people would be that agile or skilled in something as beautiful as fellatio. At the rate he was going, I came again, his skilful tongue and powerful lips too much for my naive genitals.

Once I had recovered enough from the amazing ejaculation (I doubt that he realized I had climaxed, since he was facing away from me, and probably had thought that I would have come in his mouth), I became much more involved in giving him as good a handjob as I could muster. I squeezed and pressed and rubbed him until he, too, gave in, moaning from submission.

I smiled, giving him time to regain some semblance of composure before recovering my severed flesh. "Ariagato, o'nii-san. That was wonderful." I chuckled, standing once I'd regenerated enough to do so, and left him there, sprawled out on the floor, wandering off in search of a hot shower. As I closed the door, I muttered in sheer irony, "What a bloody mess."