Silver flashed briefly with an instant of light as a calm, controlled hand pressed the honed tip against soft, pliable flesh and parted it with a slight sting. The mild feeling of relief was desperate. The pressure lifted a little bit as cool liquid erupted to the surface, and Kiyoteru watched the perfectly straight line of red color pale, lightly scarred skin.
His body was wound so tightly that his muscles ached excruciatingly with the fatigue of the tension. The perfectly controlled, straight back and serious brown eyes badly needed the relaxation that the release of chemicals his body gave when he did this offered. He needed to be able to breathe.
Lining the sharp knife parallel to the first cut, he started to press down again, when, wild-eyed, he glanced upwards, startled. A strong, unexpected grip on his controlled hand stopped him. Frowning eyes met him as if in disapproval. Kiyo was caught in the act.
An intense feeling of shame, of being beyond dirty, rose up bitterly in Kiyo's mind, and his face showed quiet desperation as he averted his eyes back downwards.
"I just.. needed relief," The teacher's soft voice admitted, not expecting the man in front of him to understand. He tried to pull his hand, still holding the knife, lightly away, but the grip around his fingers clenched tighter, painfully. Kiyo didn't want to look up and see the condemnation in the cool brown eyes that were surely watching him.
Kiyo's pupils dialated suddenly as his hand was slowly, forcibly moved. His eyes fixated on the image, widening, as the sharp edge of the knife was guided back to his arm, parallel once more to the still bleeding cut. He couldn't look up, couldn't tear his eyes away, his breath catching in his throat as the blade was pressed, unbelievably, downwards, to make a long, neat, perfect slice, somewhat deeper than the first.
Blood welled up instantly; the strong stinging sensation and confused, intense emotions running through him causing his face to twist in pain, fear, and desperation. His breath came more quickly and he found himself trembling as he finally wrenched his gaze back upwards.
Teru's expression was unflinching as he stared back, pulling the knife gently from Kiyo's fingers, and focusing on the liquid red stain on its razor tip. Focusing on both the healed and unhealed lines that were visible up and down Kiyo's normally clothed arm; the long sleeve pushed up for access. There wasn't any judgement on Teru's face, but Kiyo felt a trickle of uncertain fear that had nothing to do with the shallow cuts on his arms, and everything to do with being hated by the other man. Everything to do with being exposed as disgusting, screwed up, worthless.
Teru lightly touched his face, and Kiyo flinched. The strong, sure fingers moved up across his jawline to his short hair, touching, and then, suddenly, grabbing in a painful, vicelike grip. Kiyo yelped in surprise and jerked backwards. His counterpoint wrenched him forwards on the bed, pulling Kiyo's face directly next to Teru's, staring him down.
"W-what..?" Kiyo stammered, then flinched again as the hand not gripping his hair touched against the small wounds on his arm, smearing the blood with one rough thumb. The sensation of coolness, of openness, made his body relax slightly, despite himself, and he breathed a little more shallowly, as he stared back, still uncertain.
"I'm the one in control now," Teru's rich, light voice informed him quietly, self-assured. "Not you. I'm going to do whatever I want to you. You can't stop me."
Eyes widening comically, Kiyo's mouth hung open as he regarded the other man in shock. The blade rose in the other's hand and touched lightly against his face, trailing down cooly, against his neck. Kiyo shivered, wide-eyed, unmoving. The blade trailed lower, against his collarbone, against his clothed chest. Teru nicked the soft skin there as he cut the fabric away with a gentle ripping sound that was reminiscent of a zipper being opened.
The knife trailed down lower, touching against Kiyo's manhood through his slacks. He tensed, even though it hurt his muscles to do so. Teru flipped the knife so he could use his fingers while still holding onto it, and unbuttoned the schoolteacher's pants, sliding them downwards. His eyes challenged Kiyo to stop him as the clothing was stripped.
A warm, sure hand touched Kiyo's body and slid down his stomach to his thighs. He closed his knees, looking away with an ashamed flush on his features. A cold touch of metal to one of his thighs snapped his attention back to his legs. The edge drew blood, and Kiyo sighed in relief, relaxing slightly. Teru smiled a small smile, and nudged his legs open further, touching him against his most delicate parts.
"I'm going to take what I want from you," The vocalist repeated softly, unzipping his own pants. "I'll hurt you, Kiyo. I'm going to make you mine."
Kiyo frowned. He tried to get back up, but the knife was at his throat again, and he froze there. And then, suddenly, there was something rough and unforgiving at his back entrance, pushing forwards hard, painfully, and the teacher cried out. He struggled backwards, and the hand holding the knife dropped the tool, grabbing his hair again to take control of the situation, as an unlubricated finger shoved its way uncerimoneously into his tight asshole.
"Fight me. Fight me," Teru's quiet voice urged as a second finger bullied its way inside, causing drops of clear moisture to bead on Kiyo's eyelashes. "You're always in control, but you can't stop this. Tell me no, Kiyo. Cry out for someone to stop this."
"No!" The sound wrung itself from the teacher's tight throat as he pushed Teru away, turning to scramble away on all fours. A strong grip snagged his hair from above and behind and he cried out as he was forced down by his head, legs wrenched apart by Teru's knees. Something much larger than a slender finger ripped forwards into his anus with an intense feeling of pain.
"Aaahh!" Kiyo screamed out.
"Tell me no, Kiyo! Beg me to stop. Scream for help," Teru commanded in a strained voice as he pushed himself deeper into the tight, wonderful hole. "Scream for someone to help you!"
"No, no! Stop," Kiyo cried out in a quavering voice. His body was shaking, and the tears were breaking free of his eyes to wet his cheeks. "Please, stop! No..!"
"Yes," The reply was flat, undeniable, and Teru slammed forwards, moving too quickly, too harshly, intentionally hurting Kiyo from the inside out. The teacher screamed, scrabbling at the covers on the bed with his hands, unable to break free.
"No... no... please. Help. Help me... Somebody, help me! Somebody HELP ME!" Kiyo's soft voice grew in volume until he was shrieking. The scent of blood in the air was rich and heady, and despite his best struggles, Kiyo couldn't break free.
"Nobody is going to help you. Nobody can stop me. I'm going to take everything from you. I'm going to make you belong to me. You're my little fuck doll. I'm going to make you my little bitch," Teru's silky voice confided to the man below him as he rocked his hips powerfully forwards, again and again. " Tell me, Kiyo... What are you?"
Sobbing, Kiyo's body shook as he was violated forcefully. The endorphens from the pain, the strength of the other man robbing him of the control of the situation, the occassional bumping of Teru's cock against a particular spot inside of him, the intense fullness of his insides, all conspired to make him harden until his erection was weeping. His lips trembled as he cried out, wordlessly.
Teru pulled out and flipped the crying man below him over, towering above him, and grabbing his ankles to push them high over his head, seeking a better angle as he pushed himself back inside. Kiyo screamed. His glasses were on the bridge of his nose, almost hanging off his face crookedly. His hair was a mess. He grasped helplessly at the bedspread as the new angle hit directly against his prostate when Teru moved.
"No... no, no..." The teacher sobbed, the tension in his body exquisite.
"Tell me," Teru demanded quietly as he fully seated himself, leaning forwards and wrapping one hand in Kiyo's mussed hair again, pulling back sharply to expose his creamy white throat in an attractive arch while he continued to fuck the man below him. His other hand reached up and closed around that throat, lightly choking the man being forced to submit to him.
The sense of controlled breath made Kiyo lightheaded, and a keen broke out, vibrating along his voicebox, as Teru began to slam forwards again in earnest. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, and he NEEDED it. Kiyo felt his body shaking all over and he screamed like an injured animal, aching into the abuse as his control was ripped away from him brutally.
"Tell me!" Teru demanded again.
"I'm your bitch! I'm... I'm your little bitch!" Kiyo howled out in an agonized, tortured voice. "I'm your bitch! Please, stop! Please! I can't! I can't!"
"You can't stop me. You're mine," Teru replied, quiet in a strained voice. "You're MINE."
Smashing his long fingers into Kiyo's open mouth, Teru leaned forward again, seeking to get as deeply inside the other as his length would allow, pressing his face up against the teacher's soft neck, and opening his mouth to bite suddenly, hard, just above his collarbone, into the meat of the light muscle there. The tang of metallic blood blossomed in his mouth as Kiyo shrieked and flailed around him, losing it utterly, and clenching hard around his manhood as white spunk shot helplessly all over his stomach.
Growling lightly in the back of his throat, Teru bucked forwards harder, seeking his own release with abandon inside the moist, tightly pulsating warmth that was Kiyo. A slightly stangled cry followed by a flood of warm wetness as he sprayed himself inside the other man felt like some sort of a victory.
Kiyo wouldn't look at him as he pulled out and flopped himself down on the bed next to the other man. Teru watched his new lover for long moments as his gaze was refused. Closing his eyes briefly, Teru sighed, and pulled Kiyo's injured arm forwards, raising it to his mouth. He licked across the shallow wound, tasting the blood there, then kissed the spot gently, before glancing up at the other brown-haired man's face again.
Kiyo was watching him with a damaged, fearful, vulnurable expression, like something was about to break inside of him. His mouth was set in a thin line, and his shoulders trembled the slightest amount. His normally calm brown eyes were hurting and desperate.
Teru smiled the tiniest bit. "You're mine, now."
Kiyo's eyes widened again, and his face scrunched up as sobs broke free from his body, helpless. Teru pulled him into a light hug, embracing his body, and ignoring the white and crimson fluids decorating his skin as they stained the vocalist's clothing. He breathed in the scent of blood and Kiyo.
"You belong to me, Kiyo," The soft, encouraging words came again, and the school teacher's body went lax as he gave up, going limp in his new lover's warm arms; being allowed to cry, being allowed to release all of his tension. Finally. It hurt, it ached, and it felt all-consumingly peaceful.
Teru sighed as if satisfied, and tightened his hold around the other man with a quiet, happy smile that the other man couldn't see.