AN: New Story~~ For those who came here for the smut, I'm sorry lol, you have to read over many words before it gets to the nasty part. And since this is rated M, I'm not sure how many people will actually read it...But if you do decide to read it, I just want to say (thank you and also) it's not centered on smut. The theme is about reflecting on the definition of humanity. So it's basically rochu smut plus social science :x

Enjoy!


The space between us and them, how far is that distance? And how thick is the line that divides humanity from the unworthy. In other words, what makes us human? While a biologist may argue that the human genome is almost identical to many mammalian species, we are the animals that evolved beyond our primitive nature. Or so we tell ourselves. In Elizabethan times, humans were only placed third on the Great Chain of Being, but in the present day, we are constantly being told that we are number one. And that circle of inclusion we established excludes everything that differs from us. We create the definition of what it means to be human. So let me ask you. Just what makes us human? Intelligence? Well that is a very wide range between Einstein and the average Joe. Appearance then? So which molds of the human form are we suppose to fit in? How about compassion? That has to be a defining human characteristic. But I have seen more demoralizing acts in this lifetime than I care to count… Maybe what makes us more human than those we disregard are simply stories we tell ourselves to justify our actions.

Perhaps there was more to his speech, but he seemed to forget his words. His lips parted from his previous words, yet they were left hanging. The blinding lights of the great lecture hall shone glaring at him. His eyes vibrant and blank; they stared at the student population in the audience seats. Some regarded him with interest and fascination, while others employed the mask of attentiveness that hid their true boredom. Ivan Braginsky smiled when he was finished, layers of wrinkles appearing on the corners of his mouth.

There was silence. A heavy yet vapor-less fog permeated the room.

"Thank you," he said. The soft sound was carried over by the microphone, and it signaled the waves of applauses. A single person clapped, then another. As if it was infectious, or rather a form of manner taught from a young age, they clapped for the guest speaker.

"Are there any questions?" he asked once the applause had died down.

Several hands rose, and he spontaneously pointed at one of them. "Isn't creativity what separates humans from animals?" The student inquired.

"That is certainly one aspect of it yes," he nodded. "Our brain develops differently."

"But isn't empathy, or rather the ability to relate to others, the essential factor for our 'humanness'?" Another voice called out in the crowd.

"What about rationality?" Another question emerged.

Ivan couldn't even see where the questions came from, but he adjusted his glasses. "Most of our emotions are taught and learned from the world around us. Some of us are able to produce greater amount of sympathy than others. And of course there are the extreme cases of sociopaths and psychopaths. As for rationality, most of the times it can be overcome by personal factors such as experience and fear."

Then just when he thought he had answered all of their questions, he saw someone raising his hand. The boy appeared to be young for a third year university student, and out of nowhere Ivan was reminded of a distant memory. "Sir," the boy began. "What personal experience made you pursue this line of work?"

"This line of work?"

"Your field of interest I mean," the student elaborated a bit further. "Why humanity?"

Ivan chuckled, the memory was becoming clearer. "Because many…many years ago, there was someone who made me realize the fragility of our humanity."

After the room was emptied out, he observed the lifeless hall with an unreadable expression on his face. Slowly, he too made his way towards the exit. Every step required considerable energy, and even though he never had a cane, he knew it was time to acquire one. Eighty years was taking a toll on him. He could hear the cracking of his bones and sense the limpness of his skin. What used to be a head of beige locks became a different shade of white. Although he never liked looking into the mirror even in his youth, he stopped scrutinizing his reflection when he reached his sixties. He was afraid to see someone he might be disappointed in.

Before his foot was placed on the dark wood of the floor outside as opposed to the carpet he was standing on, he glanced at the window on his right. It was open, and a soft breeze sneaked in, rustling his hair in its embrace. His expression flickered between sadness and nostalgia. Hesitantly, he trudged near the window. Deciding if he should close it, he saw a feather resting on the ledge.

It was an ordinary feather that came from the wings of a bird. Ivan carefully picked it up and held it in the palm of his hand as if it was worth more than diamonds or gold. White with specks of grey spots, the feather beckoned reminiscence of fleeting moments.

Days that flew in the blink of an eye and moments that froze in eternity. Gazing at the feather, the aged man saw something that was never meant for this world.

He was human. A bird who could not fly.

Following a moment of deliberation, he extended his hand out and trembled as the feather was carried away by the wind.

Yao. The space between you and me, how far is the distance? Is it shortened?


(56 years ago)

The rich benignant cigar smoke eddied coolly down his throat; he puffed it out again in rings which breasted the air bravely for a moment; blue, circular. He had gotten bored of the taste. His suit was restricting and his stiff collar annoyed him profoundly, but the night had not ended.

The auction was still ongoing.

Ambrosial champagne was poured into his glass at timely intervals, rich tasting caviar bountifully served in gold-threaded plates. All around him soft murmurs were heard among men in leather shoes and expensive suits. They were all eyeing for the items on stage.

An underground auction for the elites. Treasures both illegal and impossible were showcased and fought over. A hundred thousand. A hundred million. A billion. Money meant nothing for these men.

Beams of pure wealth glimmered in every corner of the lavish room, but it was the stage that beheld everyone's attention.

A monkey with emerald eyes and hair that shimmered like silver. A haunted vintage vase that once adorned the halls of great dynasties and fallen empires. A miniature tree that bloomed diamonds…

He was not interested in anything he saw. Yes, he placed money just to provoke other buyers' desire. But he never truly wanted anything that was displayed. To him, those were children's toys, things that were obtained to collect dust on a shelf.

Eyes exhibiting apathy, he tapped his fingers on the wooden arm of the lush chair. He craved to see something peculiar, needed something to fulfill the intense emptiness even if it was just for a second. When it was announced that the Scepter of Dagobert was being bided starting with fifty thousands, he yawned.

How uninspiring. Must everything be so dull?

Then as his head started to droop, his ears picked up the noise of chains scraping the floor. The sound of metal and bells.

Like the broken chords of an ancient melody, it reverberated within these walls, curling around the clouds of smoke. The source of the noise appeared behind the silken curtains.

Its ankles and wrists were chained by golden shackles. An intricately carved leash embellished its neck. Its skin was pallid and stretched over its stark bones. Glistening gemstones were pierced through its flesh. Rubies, sapphires, and amethysts dangled on the thin metal strings that were nailed on its arms and legs. It wore layers of flowing silk over its body, crimson and translucent, they slit down on the side showing its thin legs. Long ebony hair glided like the waves of a dark evening lake, with some strands pulled up and pinned by pearls in delicate braids. It was an uncanny creature. But it wasn't its alien beauty that earned it a spot beneath the lights, it was the patches of feathers that infested parts of its limbs. Small enough to be the feathers of a canary, they were brown in hues and stood in blunt contrast against its pale complexion.

He leaned forward in his chair.

Its movements were slow and unfeeling with a tint of feral nature. Its amber eyes blinked emotionlessly, as if it saw beyond the visible spectrum of light. Its head surveyed the room; there was nothing but blankness in its expression.

The man's interest was piqued. He had heard about mutants that were bred in labs owned by both the government and private enterprises, humanoids that were grown and injected with animal DNAs, experiments that tested the limits of modern science. He had known about those genetically modified freaks, but never had one been presented in front of him.

What a pitiful creature.

Then it seemed to look in his direction. Head tilting in an odd orientation, it blinked at him. He didn't like the way it looked. People regarded him with fear and respect, it stared at him as if… He didn't know how to describe the unease building in his system. But that turbulence along with his tendency to acquire beautiful things finalized his decision to place the bid. Not only to place the bid, but to place the highest one.

It started at eight hundred million, and numbers were flashed, each one higher than the other. He paid no attention to them as he gazed at the prize.

"Nine hundred million!"

"Nine hundred fifty million!"

"A billion!"

"Three billion!"

Although it was being auctioned off like an object, it had the appearance of a young boy. A young boy with precious stones draping from his skin, a young boy dressed provocatively in red robes, a young boy with feathers on his limbs. It could be a boy or a girl, but it didn't matter since it was not even human.

"Five billion!"

He wondered about its empty birdlike eyes. Did it know what was happening? Did it have the capacity to feel? The monkey looked even livelier than it.

"Five billion five hundred fifty million!"

Did it have a name? Or was it addressed to as a number? Did it spend its days attached to tubes sitting on an operating table? Did it ever know what it was like to be free from its shackles?

"Five billion nine hundred million!"

Had anyone ever thought of it as a human being?

It blinked at him and he knew the answer to his questions.

"TWENTY BILLION!" He called out suddenly, marking the end of the bidding process. The room became drenched in silence, and he knew he had won.

"Twenty billion," the announcer declared. "Going once…going twice…and…sold to Ivan Braginsky!"

He smiled unconsciously. It was a cold smile, one that he wore for victory and in the face of his enemies' defeat. A few men congratulated him and nodded in his direction, he smiled in return, grinning at inferiority. The world revolved around money and power, and he was the godfather of both. Born from wealth, he was one of the lucky ones who held the lives of others in his hand. But this crown of thorns came with an unquenchable emptiness.

An infinite accumulation of money wouldn't satisfy his growing void. Nothing could replace his boredom, and he doubted his newly gained possession would capture his attention for more than a few weeks.

As the mutant was pulled away by the leash, it didn't look back at the man who bought him. It made no difference which man in a dark suit won the bid; they were all the same… Is that what it was thinking? Ivan thought with his brows furrowed.

However that was ridiculous. It couldn't possibly have the ability to think and feel like a human being.

A beautiful item to be collecting dusts on a shelf somewhere…that was its future. It walked away with the same vacant elegance it had when it arrived on stage. Then he noticed the bells around the shackles on its ankles. They rang with each step it took, echoing the sound of his heartbeat.

Even after it was long gone, the ringing never stopped.


Opening the door to his private room, Ivan smiled at the figure on the bed. He let out a sigh of relief as he undid his tie and took off his blazer, giving his muscles the chance to relax. Just as he requested, his new pet was in different attire. Gone were the gemstones and intricate chains that were weaved into his skin; punctures of red holes existed in their absence. Its hair tumbled down over its shoulders, free of any accessories. Instead of the crimson robes that resembled a pool of blood, a simple white garment hung on its thin frame.

He never noticed the makeup on its face when the auction took place, but now in this dimly lit room whose illumination came only from the faint lamps, he saw truly how young it looked without the red rouge and glimmers of paint. In the papers that he skimmed over on his way here, they said it was twenty years old. Unbelievable. With only a few years younger than him, it paralleled the physical development of an adolescent boy. Well they confirmed it was a male, but Ivan didn't care since they also specified its genetic composition. It wasn't human.

He owned it. Both in body and spirit. He paid twenty billion dollars for it, and damn right that he was going to get the full enjoyment out of it. Besides even though it was never written in inks, it was evident what the purpose of the mutant was. Sex.

It might not be human, but it was still a warm body to hold, to release his sexual tensions on. Ivan walked closer to the bed with the only thought of… It wasn't human.

The creature regarded him with a blank face. It looked at his every movement, yet revealed no reaction. It seemed to understand the situation, but Ivan didn't linger on guessing an animal's thoughts.

One of his knees touching the soft sheets, he reached out to let his fingers swim through the strands of jet-black hair. They were smooth to the touch, and he brought the locks to his lips to savor the sensation. The creature observed him with remote curiosity.

"You don't have a name do you?" He asked a question he already knew the answer to. Soft and gentle, his voice invoked no response. "You can't even talk," he said, fingers twirling the locks of hair. The papers specified that the mutant could understand basic words but was too imbecile to communicate with language. "Come on, say something. I bet you can talk," Ivan prompted.

It merely blinked at him.

He snickered, what was he expecting?

"Okay, I'm going to call you Yao from now on. You like that? Yao-Yao?" He cooed, hand stroking the side of its cheek. Rougher and colder than he expected, yet he still felt the blood rushing beneath its skin. He did not recoil from the cold.

Again he received no reply. The little bird tipped its head at him, its lower lip quivered ever so slightly.

Perhaps it had heard that word before because after all it was bred in the Jin Yao Corporation whose headquarter was situated in China. Maybe it was cruel of him to name it after its cage, but he was not known for his kindness.

Kindness was a feel-good mechanism for the weak.

The mutant didn't resist as Ivan trailed his finger down from its neck to the open space where the robe was folded. He could pull off the garb right there, but he decided against it. There were still hours until dawn. They could do so many things before the trespassing of light unveils their entangled bodies.

He backed up, removing his leg from the bed. Smiling kindly at the beautiful deformity, Ivan unbuckled his belt and pulled down the zipper. All this while, Yao stared at him with an almost puzzled expression. Even when the organ was let out of his boxers, there was no fear or disgust registered on its face, only confusion. It made small sharp movements with its head; it looked at the exposed part of Ivan like it was a foreign object.

Ivan waved him over. The small creature's eyes glanced down and up before slowly crawling over to him. Reluctantly and slowly, its hands inched forward. Like waterfall, its hair fell on both side of its face, framing the gleaming amber jewels that were its eyes. In the ambers, Ivan saw his own reflection and his lips twitched. As if it noticed his irritation, it directed its attention to the rising length.

Stretching its neck, it scrutinized the length with an, ironically, childlike curiosity. Its lips parted and closed. Small canines could be seen biting into those reddened rims. Yao raised its head and gawked at Ivan.

It was feeble-minded; that was what they called it in the papers. Defected. Failed trials. Not human. It.

Those words flashed through his mind. Then noticing that Yao was still staring at him, he pointed to his mouth. "Open your mouth," Ivan said, opening his own mouth, encouraging it.

The mutant narrowed its eyes, but just when Ivan thought it would shrink back, its mouth moved right onto his cock. Two petals of soft flesh touching his burning desire. Then they parted ways, letting the organ into its entrance. Its teeth carelessly grazed Ivan's foreskin, propelling the retractable layer back.

It held the excited organ in its mouth like a dog with a bone. Clutching it tightly, but not too forceful to alarm Ivan, Yao let out a low whimper.

That was the first sound that came out of its mouth. Ivan seized the back of its head and pulled it closer, forcing it to take in more and more of him. "Use your tongue," Ivan instructed, holding back his moans. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and he massaged Yao's head with his calloused fingers.

Yao began licking him, applying saliva to lubricate the sections already in its mouth. Droplets of pre-cum slid down from the corners to its chin and dibbled on the white robe. In his ecstasy, Ivan thought about its warm cavern and smooth tongue. Did it know what it was even doing? Was it truly so dim-witted that it wasn't even aware of its actions?

He tucked the falling strands of hair behind its ear. "Yes…Yao…that's a good boy…" He said through his raspy groans.

Small animalistic sounds escaped its throat as its mouth and even beyond were filled with another being's erected manhood. As if by accident, its hand squeezed one of Ivan's testes, and it sent electrifying chills all over his body. Ivan gripped its hair with intense force, and thrust himself completely into Yao's opening.

Too late to pull away or maybe he wanted to see his essence pooling in its mouth, Ivan climaxed, spilling his seeds into another man's insides.

Releasing his hold on its hair, the mutant immediately pulled back. Choking, and shoulders trembling, it attempted to swallow the excessive amount of white liquid compiled in its cavity. Even though its hands tried wiping away the semen that flowed out, they merely smeared the fluid all over its chin and cheeks.

Those amber orbs glowed at the man breathing heavily. Perplexed. Confused. Aware.

Sensing Ivan's movement before it even occurred, Yao reeled back as Ivan pounced on it. Falling into the bed, it let out a pained cry. Ivan grabbed both of its ankles and hauled it right onto him, placing its slender legs over his shoulders forcefully. There were patches of feathers on its legs. It was not human.

Yao was his. He owned Yao. It was his property to do as he pleased.

He torn off the white robe and marveled at his possession. A flesh and blood gem.

There were even feathers on its torso, over the faint outline of ribs. Ivan licked over the spots, coating the feathers with moisture. His tongue travelled upward all the way to one of its nipples and he played it with his teeth.

Noises of struggles erupted from beneath him. Whines that sounded inhuman. A voice that was human…

"Argh….ah…ahhhh…" It uttered pathetically.

It…No...He stared at Ivan with pleading eyes.

TBC.


AN: Did I just stop in the middle of smut?! Yes. Yes I did.

LOL this is divided into 2 parts. Next chapter will complete the entire story.

I hope you liked it (umm maybe not so much about the interrupted smut haha..)! Review?