"He's really very attractive, isn't he? All that hair, sculpted body...and of course he's very docile now, does whatever you tell him. I was surprised, usually it takes longer to break them. I get the sense someone else already did most of my work for me. Hung like a racehorse, too."
Saionji shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had only been in the Rijichou's parlor a few minutes, but already he was getting that same feeling he had had since he first set eyes on Ohtori Academy; that feeling of walking along the floor and suddenly realizing it was the ceiling. "What...what's your point?"
Akio was deeply absorbed in stroking Touga's hair, and came out of his reverie with a start. "I'm offering him to you. No restrictions. Do whatever you like to him. Beat him, fuck him to death, use him as a coffee table, whatever you want."
Saionji watched him skeptically. "You own him now?"
Akio met Saionji's gaze with a smile. "Don't I?" The Seitokaichou sat Japanese-style on the floor, naked to the waist, the fly of his white slacks undone. His eyes were blank. Akio played with his hair, sweeping curtains of it forward and back across Touga's pale skin.
Saionji ripped his gaze from the boy and turned to Akio. "What's the catch?"
Akio smiled even wider now. "Well, now, you don't get something for nothing, now do you. So in return, I want one thing from you."
"What's that?"
"You."
Saionji snorted. "You think I'm that desperate? You're mistaken."
Akio looked at Touga now, and spoke in quiet, intimate tones. "The first time he took you, you cried like a child. For the past few months he's been coming home covered in cuts and bruises, and he hits you, and when he's asleep you cry, and you wish it could be like it was before--"
"Ffffuck you," spluttered Saionji, jumping to his feet in a rage.
"Don't worry, I will," said the Rijichou. He twisted his hand in Touga's hair and pulled him to his feet. Then he shoved the Seitokaichou, hard, at Saionji. Touga fell onto Saionji, knocking him back onto the couch, and slid to the floor, where he lay like a broken doll. "So take him already."
Saionji looked in horror at Touga's frozen face. "And turn into that in a couple of months?"
The Rijichou grinned and oozed off the couch. "That only happens to the weak ones. And you're not weak, are you? No, I'm sure you've got plenty of stamina..." He straddled Saionji and took his face in his hands.
"Get off me--" Saionji struggled futilely.
"Sure, I'll get you off." The Rijichou thrust his hand down Saionji's pants and simultaneously shoved his tongue into Saionji's mouth. Saionji squirmed, infuriated at this violation, vowing revenge with every fiber of his body. Akio ignored this, and only went deeper. The student council vice-president began seriously to consider panicking.
Suddenly, the Rijichou was gone, as if vanished into thin air. Saionji rushed to the elevator, pawing at the doors. The cold metal would not yield under his nails, and he sat back, despairing.
"Saionji."
For a moment he didn't recognize the voice. Then he realized it was coming from the couch, from the red-haired boy who was, until this moment, just another piece of the furniture.
"I'm so scared."
Saionji rose and moved towards the couch, step by step, his eyes never leaving Touga.
"Help me, Saionji."
He reached the couch, and looked down into Touga's pleading blue eyes.
Saionji struck him across the face with full force, knocking him to the floor. He stepped back for a moment to survey his handiwork, finding it far more satisfying than any fantasy. Better than hitting that rag doll of a kendo trophy by a long shot. Touga's hair fell in damp strands over his face, partially obscuring a handprint quickly reddening. Saionji loved it. He wanted nothing more than to strike him again and again, to see Touga's blood on his fist.
But something stopped him.
____________
...But what was it that stopped him? Conscience? HA! You wish! No, more likely it was a muscle cramp, or a freak asteroid shower. In any wise, find out for certain in our next thrilling installment of: Devil's Bargain!
Saionji shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had only been in the Rijichou's parlor a few minutes, but already he was getting that same feeling he had had since he first set eyes on Ohtori Academy; that feeling of walking along the floor and suddenly realizing it was the ceiling. "What...what's your point?"
Akio was deeply absorbed in stroking Touga's hair, and came out of his reverie with a start. "I'm offering him to you. No restrictions. Do whatever you like to him. Beat him, fuck him to death, use him as a coffee table, whatever you want."
Saionji watched him skeptically. "You own him now?"
Akio met Saionji's gaze with a smile. "Don't I?" The Seitokaichou sat Japanese-style on the floor, naked to the waist, the fly of his white slacks undone. His eyes were blank. Akio played with his hair, sweeping curtains of it forward and back across Touga's pale skin.
Saionji ripped his gaze from the boy and turned to Akio. "What's the catch?"
Akio smiled even wider now. "Well, now, you don't get something for nothing, now do you. So in return, I want one thing from you."
"What's that?"
"You."
Saionji snorted. "You think I'm that desperate? You're mistaken."
Akio looked at Touga now, and spoke in quiet, intimate tones. "The first time he took you, you cried like a child. For the past few months he's been coming home covered in cuts and bruises, and he hits you, and when he's asleep you cry, and you wish it could be like it was before--"
"Ffffuck you," spluttered Saionji, jumping to his feet in a rage.
"Don't worry, I will," said the Rijichou. He twisted his hand in Touga's hair and pulled him to his feet. Then he shoved the Seitokaichou, hard, at Saionji. Touga fell onto Saionji, knocking him back onto the couch, and slid to the floor, where he lay like a broken doll. "So take him already."
Saionji looked in horror at Touga's frozen face. "And turn into that in a couple of months?"
The Rijichou grinned and oozed off the couch. "That only happens to the weak ones. And you're not weak, are you? No, I'm sure you've got plenty of stamina..." He straddled Saionji and took his face in his hands.
"Get off me--" Saionji struggled futilely.
"Sure, I'll get you off." The Rijichou thrust his hand down Saionji's pants and simultaneously shoved his tongue into Saionji's mouth. Saionji squirmed, infuriated at this violation, vowing revenge with every fiber of his body. Akio ignored this, and only went deeper. The student council vice-president began seriously to consider panicking.
Suddenly, the Rijichou was gone, as if vanished into thin air. Saionji rushed to the elevator, pawing at the doors. The cold metal would not yield under his nails, and he sat back, despairing.
"Saionji."
For a moment he didn't recognize the voice. Then he realized it was coming from the couch, from the red-haired boy who was, until this moment, just another piece of the furniture.
"I'm so scared."
Saionji rose and moved towards the couch, step by step, his eyes never leaving Touga.
"Help me, Saionji."
He reached the couch, and looked down into Touga's pleading blue eyes.
Saionji struck him across the face with full force, knocking him to the floor. He stepped back for a moment to survey his handiwork, finding it far more satisfying than any fantasy. Better than hitting that rag doll of a kendo trophy by a long shot. Touga's hair fell in damp strands over his face, partially obscuring a handprint quickly reddening. Saionji loved it. He wanted nothing more than to strike him again and again, to see Touga's blood on his fist.
But something stopped him.
____________
...But what was it that stopped him? Conscience? HA! You wish! No, more likely it was a muscle cramp, or a freak asteroid shower. In any wise, find out for certain in our next thrilling installment of: Devil's Bargain!
