- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Prestige
- Douche
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Genres
- High Fantasy, Modern Fantasy, Epic Fantasy, Yaoi, Political Intrigue, Supernatural, Post-Apocalyptic
*DISCLAIMER* This piece contains scenes of non-consensual sex and has mature themes. If you are not of age and do not like man on man sex, please do not proceed any further. I am not responsible for things you cannot unsee... Although I must admit, I would not want to unsee that picture over there. If you're appropriately mature and like man on man sex, read on!
SLIVER OF HOPE
"Beauty" rubbed his arms, having been so unceremoniously thrown out of the bath, he barely had time to get dry and get dressed. The night air was chilly and he shivered, he was still damp in a few places but leaving in a hurry had given him no time to get dressed properly. His damp hair was plastered to his face and his cheeks were flushed from the cold. The sun was going down on the horizon and he was supposed to be in his small, windowless, pathetic room by now. He didn't know why as the sun disappeared over the horizon and the day turned dark, he was ushered into that prison.
He opened the door and closed it behind him, the squeak of the hinges making him shudder in disdain. Every step towards his bed was painful, because he knew what was coming next. His breathing was ragged and he wanted so badly to turn tail and run, but he knew he would get caught and be treated to a rougher night than usual. His hands quivered even while they clasped his arms, he didn't want this. He had suffered enough in the past seven years.
He sank to the bed and draw his knees to his chest. His arms had red marks where he had grasped them so hard with his hands. He rocked himself back and forth softly, trying to calm his racing heart. It was futile. He could feel its beat pounding in his ears. He kept looking at the door, expecting the master to come in at any moment. He always saw the Master nowadays, even in places where he was not, even in the nightmares that haunted him each night.
Every hand that touched him would make him spin around and see the Master's face contorted in pleasure and malicious intent. He shuddered. He could feel the Master's hands groping him, touching him, grasping his hips as he was brutally used each night. It made him feel so filthy and weak, knowing he had no means with which to fight back. He buried his face between his knees, a single tear rolled down his cheek. He wanted out, but there was no way out. He was afraid he would have to go through this forever.
The hinges squealed as the door was roughly pulled open. "Beauty's" head snapped up and watched the Master stomp almost angrily into the room. Their eyes met for a moment, deep black staring into silvery-blue. The Master wasn't that bad physically, he was rugged and he had a little belly. He was decked in many expensive perfumes that made "Beauty's" nose wrinkle because of their stench. He sensed that tonight there was something different about the Master, something wrong.
The Master's nostrils flared when he broke eye contact with "Beauty" and he proceeded to pace back and forth at the foot of the bed. There was an uncomfortable tension between the two of them. The silence was only broken by the padding of the Master's feet. "Beauty" followed him with glassy eyes wide with fear. The Master's anger and frustration was palpable, and "Beauty" feared whatever would come next.
"Say something!" said the Master, coming to an abrupt halt at the foot of "Beauty's" bed while glaring at him with bloodshot eyes. "Beauty's" throat choked up and would not allow him to speak, so much was his fear that tears were beginning to well in his eyes and his hands were shaking. With glistening eyes, "Beauty" looked at the master with imploring eyes and shook his head slightly from side to side. This just seemed to irritate the Master even more because his eyes narrowed and the feeling of fear that washed over "Beauty" increased tenfold.
"The Gods damn it all!" bellowed the Master as he punched the wall, leaving a hole in the wood through which the night sky was visible. "Do you know why I'm angry? Do you?!" he demanded. "Beauty" could do nothing but shake his head slightly from side to side once more. "Well, apparently the King has heard of you and he wants you. He is prepared to give me more money than one man can dream of in his entire life. But I wanted you to stay because you're just the perfect toy for me. I love playing with your body. Using you like the object you are. He would not have it. By his royal decree I must relinquish you before the year is done!"
"Beauty" was petrified with fear. He had heard nothing but bad things about the King. He was terrified of what the King would do to him. Frantically, he shook his head, his throat still unwilling to cooperate with him. The Master's eyes narrowed further and he crawled onto the bed and grabbed "Beauty" by the chin and stared into his eyes. "Now don't think for one moment, that you actually mean something to me, 'Beauty'." The Master said "Beauty" with such scorn it made him wince.
"The only reason I was not willing to let you go was because you have given me the most pleasure. I have had others like you before and I will have others like you when you're long gone. But you have been the best. Don't think for one moment that you're worth anything. Don't think for one moment that I care enough about you to put my own life at risk by keeping you. You're not even worth a name." The tears that "Beauty" had been holding back burst forth and streamed down his cheeks at the mention that he was not even worth a name.
There was a smug smile on the Master's face now, having been reminded of the power he held over the poor child. He let go of "Beauty" who promptly returned to rocking back and forth on the bed, bawling his eyes out. He slowly undid the ties of his tunic and threw it in a random direction.
The Master stood, put on his clothes and left without so much as a glance back at "Beauty" who, utterly spent, remained sprawled upon the sheets. His clothes lay in a tattered, crumpled heap by the bedside and he did not have any energy left to pick them up. Drenched in his own seed and dripping the Master's, he lay there, sobbing softly, bemoaning his fate. He spent many a moment like that, unwilling to move for his orifice felt like it was on fire.
It wasn't until he noticed the sky outside that he moved out of curiosity. It was a very dark, almost black blue, in contrast to the bright blue that he normally saw and the stark gray of inclement weather. There were pinpricks of light in the sky that seemed to twinkle and they were beautiful. But it wasn't the color of the sky or the twinkling lights that caught his attention. It was the tiny crescent sliver that hung there, dim, pale and, to him, nameless.
He felt it calling out to him. He was entranced by its beauty. He chuckled a bit, seeing how the derogatory pet name they had given him fit this magnificent spectacle in the dark sky so perfectly. He wanted to be like it, free to float in the night sky, free to shine no matter how dimly.
He reached out his hand to it and whispered "I think I'll call you 'Beauty' then... Someday, you and I both will find a name..."
And that will be all! Thank you for reading Sliver of Hope. I wrote this short story as a spinoff of [MENTION=1239]Jean Kyn[/MENTION]'s RP Escape of the Elements. If you want to know what happens next to Beauty, read the RP!
SLIVER OF HOPE
"Beauty" rubbed his arms, having been so unceremoniously thrown out of the bath, he barely had time to get dry and get dressed. The night air was chilly and he shivered, he was still damp in a few places but leaving in a hurry had given him no time to get dressed properly. His damp hair was plastered to his face and his cheeks were flushed from the cold. The sun was going down on the horizon and he was supposed to be in his small, windowless, pathetic room by now. He didn't know why as the sun disappeared over the horizon and the day turned dark, he was ushered into that prison.He opened the door and closed it behind him, the squeak of the hinges making him shudder in disdain. Every step towards his bed was painful, because he knew what was coming next. His breathing was ragged and he wanted so badly to turn tail and run, but he knew he would get caught and be treated to a rougher night than usual. His hands quivered even while they clasped his arms, he didn't want this. He had suffered enough in the past seven years.
He sank to the bed and draw his knees to his chest. His arms had red marks where he had grasped them so hard with his hands. He rocked himself back and forth softly, trying to calm his racing heart. It was futile. He could feel its beat pounding in his ears. He kept looking at the door, expecting the master to come in at any moment. He always saw the Master nowadays, even in places where he was not, even in the nightmares that haunted him each night.
Every hand that touched him would make him spin around and see the Master's face contorted in pleasure and malicious intent. He shuddered. He could feel the Master's hands groping him, touching him, grasping his hips as he was brutally used each night. It made him feel so filthy and weak, knowing he had no means with which to fight back. He buried his face between his knees, a single tear rolled down his cheek. He wanted out, but there was no way out. He was afraid he would have to go through this forever.
The hinges squealed as the door was roughly pulled open. "Beauty's" head snapped up and watched the Master stomp almost angrily into the room. Their eyes met for a moment, deep black staring into silvery-blue. The Master wasn't that bad physically, he was rugged and he had a little belly. He was decked in many expensive perfumes that made "Beauty's" nose wrinkle because of their stench. He sensed that tonight there was something different about the Master, something wrong.
The Master's nostrils flared when he broke eye contact with "Beauty" and he proceeded to pace back and forth at the foot of the bed. There was an uncomfortable tension between the two of them. The silence was only broken by the padding of the Master's feet. "Beauty" followed him with glassy eyes wide with fear. The Master's anger and frustration was palpable, and "Beauty" feared whatever would come next.
"Say something!" said the Master, coming to an abrupt halt at the foot of "Beauty's" bed while glaring at him with bloodshot eyes. "Beauty's" throat choked up and would not allow him to speak, so much was his fear that tears were beginning to well in his eyes and his hands were shaking. With glistening eyes, "Beauty" looked at the master with imploring eyes and shook his head slightly from side to side. This just seemed to irritate the Master even more because his eyes narrowed and the feeling of fear that washed over "Beauty" increased tenfold.
"The Gods damn it all!" bellowed the Master as he punched the wall, leaving a hole in the wood through which the night sky was visible. "Do you know why I'm angry? Do you?!" he demanded. "Beauty" could do nothing but shake his head slightly from side to side once more. "Well, apparently the King has heard of you and he wants you. He is prepared to give me more money than one man can dream of in his entire life. But I wanted you to stay because you're just the perfect toy for me. I love playing with your body. Using you like the object you are. He would not have it. By his royal decree I must relinquish you before the year is done!"
"Beauty" was petrified with fear. He had heard nothing but bad things about the King. He was terrified of what the King would do to him. Frantically, he shook his head, his throat still unwilling to cooperate with him. The Master's eyes narrowed further and he crawled onto the bed and grabbed "Beauty" by the chin and stared into his eyes. "Now don't think for one moment, that you actually mean something to me, 'Beauty'." The Master said "Beauty" with such scorn it made him wince.
"The only reason I was not willing to let you go was because you have given me the most pleasure. I have had others like you before and I will have others like you when you're long gone. But you have been the best. Don't think for one moment that you're worth anything. Don't think for one moment that I care enough about you to put my own life at risk by keeping you. You're not even worth a name." The tears that "Beauty" had been holding back burst forth and streamed down his cheeks at the mention that he was not even worth a name.
There was a smug smile on the Master's face now, having been reminded of the power he held over the poor child. He let go of "Beauty" who promptly returned to rocking back and forth on the bed, bawling his eyes out. He slowly undid the ties of his tunic and threw it in a random direction.
He unfastened his breeches too and they soon followed suit. He knelt before "Beauty" wearing nothing but his skin, his throbbing member pointed directly at "Beauty."
He let all his anger out on "Beauty." He grabbed the boy's head with two hands and forced him down on his shaft. Even with shining streaks of tears on his rosy cheeks, he instinctively began worshiping it. Licking it up and down, laying soft kisses along its length, just like the Master wanted it. He sucked on it and lapped at it until it was drenched in his saliva. The Master pulled him up and smashed his lips against "Beauty's" who was still crying.
As he was sloppily kissing "Beauty", the Master tore off his clothes literally. They ripped apart at the seams and were thrown carelessly aside. He pushed his entire weight onto "Beauty" who ended up sprawled on the sheets. He forced "Beauty's" legs apart and rammed inside him. The scream of pain that erupted from the boy was purely guttural and animalistic. Without even waiting, he began thrusting in and out savagely.
The moment the pain turned into pleasure for "Beauty," the harder he cried, willing his body to not give in to being used. But alas, his body was traitorous and he began bucking his hips. He stifled the moans that were trying to crawl up his throat. He wanted desperately to fight, but he was fighting a losing battle.
It wasn't much longer before, with a shuddering moan, "Beauty" came at the same time the Master did inside him.
He let all his anger out on "Beauty." He grabbed the boy's head with two hands and forced him down on his shaft. Even with shining streaks of tears on his rosy cheeks, he instinctively began worshiping it. Licking it up and down, laying soft kisses along its length, just like the Master wanted it. He sucked on it and lapped at it until it was drenched in his saliva. The Master pulled him up and smashed his lips against "Beauty's" who was still crying.
As he was sloppily kissing "Beauty", the Master tore off his clothes literally. They ripped apart at the seams and were thrown carelessly aside. He pushed his entire weight onto "Beauty" who ended up sprawled on the sheets. He forced "Beauty's" legs apart and rammed inside him. The scream of pain that erupted from the boy was purely guttural and animalistic. Without even waiting, he began thrusting in and out savagely.
The moment the pain turned into pleasure for "Beauty," the harder he cried, willing his body to not give in to being used. But alas, his body was traitorous and he began bucking his hips. He stifled the moans that were trying to crawl up his throat. He wanted desperately to fight, but he was fighting a losing battle.
It wasn't much longer before, with a shuddering moan, "Beauty" came at the same time the Master did inside him.
The Master stood, put on his clothes and left without so much as a glance back at "Beauty" who, utterly spent, remained sprawled upon the sheets. His clothes lay in a tattered, crumpled heap by the bedside and he did not have any energy left to pick them up. Drenched in his own seed and dripping the Master's, he lay there, sobbing softly, bemoaning his fate. He spent many a moment like that, unwilling to move for his orifice felt like it was on fire.
It wasn't until he noticed the sky outside that he moved out of curiosity. It was a very dark, almost black blue, in contrast to the bright blue that he normally saw and the stark gray of inclement weather. There were pinpricks of light in the sky that seemed to twinkle and they were beautiful. But it wasn't the color of the sky or the twinkling lights that caught his attention. It was the tiny crescent sliver that hung there, dim, pale and, to him, nameless.
He felt it calling out to him. He was entranced by its beauty. He chuckled a bit, seeing how the derogatory pet name they had given him fit this magnificent spectacle in the dark sky so perfectly. He wanted to be like it, free to float in the night sky, free to shine no matter how dimly.
He reached out his hand to it and whispered "I think I'll call you 'Beauty' then... Someday, you and I both will find a name..."
And that will be all! Thank you for reading Sliver of Hope. I wrote this short story as a spinoff of [MENTION=1239]Jean Kyn[/MENTION]'s RP Escape of the Elements. If you want to know what happens next to Beauty, read the RP!