Madness

My feet were cold. The slippery grass slid underneath them as I ran across the field, dressed in a sweater and shorts. The breeze picked up again. I heard the thrashing of leaves and creaking of old doors join in the music of the night that was now becoming so familiar. I couldn't see much in the dark, but that was okay because I knew where the wire fence was. If I kept running, pumping my arms and bracing the wind, I'd reach it soon enough.

My lungs burned harshly, but my fist eventually hits against the cool metal. It shakes the entire thing, I wrap my fingers around it, slipping them through it's holes to stop it. I doubt he'd be able to hear me. I was at least 500 feet away from the house.

I close my eyes, easing my racing heart and recite reasons to leave. The many that I have thought in my life spent with him, the thoughts I have that chased me so tirelessly. And the ones that refused to appear at this moment when I needed them. I'd been here the past few days, in this same spot drawing a blank. I'd run out, like I wasn't supposed to, be unguarded, like I wasn't supposed to be, and plotted this escape like I wasn't meant to. But tonight would be different. I wouldn't allow my amnesia to make me forgo. I had to do it for there was only a matter of time I could keep leaving.

I pulled up my sleeve, taking a finger and sweeping it all over. I winced at the poking of my own bruises, fresh on my skin and in my brain. The way he'd beaten me and used me, it was a shock I could move. But the initial pain mellowed out as the hours past, it was the next day where they hurt like hell. And then he'd do it again. A fierce wind blew, making goose bumps rise on my bare legs. I swallowed an anxious lump, grabbing the wire with balled fists. No, this wasn't supposed to be my life. No one lives like this, like that. It was disgusting, it wasn't real. Because of him I'm not normal; I'm so wretched in this state. I couldn't deal with this any longer.

I opened my eyes, smiling bitterly because I feel the tears prickly in them. There, I gave him a chance to show up. I'm so wretched.

I lifted a foot into the holes and leaped on to the fence, making busy work at climbing it. My feet followed my rising arms, as a shot of stupid hurt fueled my desire to escape. I reached the top and jumped off carelessly from the large height. I stumbled down, but captured my balance quickly. I straighten up, and huff out in disbelief looking around a bit paranoid, but the feeling floats off. I was on the other side was the only thing now chanting in my thoughts, so loudly that it overpowered the emptiness in my chest. I ran off into the dark unknown without any plan.

MMMMMMMMM

He took a long drag of his cigarette, the tip of it burning newly in his dark bedroom. It was about 2 am, and the only thing keeping him up at that point was a smoke. He had just finished writing his manuscript, reaching the point where he felt there was nothing else he could add to make it better. He thought of finishing it earlier but he hadn't time for that. He scowled stretching out his pale hand, a laser thin scar running down the side of his index finger. It reminded him of his previous activities.

That stupid boy he growled out, feeling the anger rising anew. It was his fault that he had to punish him for his behavior, his carelessness that made him end his work so late. The boy had made the author angry yet again, but proceeded to feign innocence and play the victim. Much worse, he wouldn't ever be merciful to those who didn't deserve it. Was he to believe the boy was just speaking to the waiter with such enthusiasm because he didn't feel an attraction? And no less, in front of him. Well that would be the last time he'd take him outside. He had gotten so upset he'd taken Misaki straight home and yanked him down into the basement. Begging, pleading with him to stop, with tears in his eyes and trembling form on the floor, it didn't matter. If he didn't feel the boy was actually sorry then being merciful flew off into the wind. The scar though, hadn't been from tonight. But of the first time he'd had the boy and desired him. A moment that had decided the teen's fate. Akihiko smashed the cigarette into the ash tray, working it in till it sizzled.

Four years and the kid still didn't have a clue that he belonged to him. The boy wouldn't ever come to accept the things he'd done to his body night after night despite him enjoying it as well. Shouting no so easily but behaving so lustful through it all. It was ignorance, irrational ignorance. Perhaps he still doesn't understand his situation. Since they day they locked eyes, they became bonded for life. He was Akihiko's and entitled to do whatever he felt he needed. No matter what, even if he were to run away, Akihiko would find him and lock him in the darkest of all places where the boy would never see the sunlight again. He'd forget what the outside world look like. Forget the feel of the wind, the smell of cherry blossoms, and the voices of other people. Forget who he was even, so that the only thing he'd know was the one who locked him away. The person who he belonged to.

He was practically living like that now, and if any efforts to escape, if at all, were made it was impossible. Misaki was safe down in the basement, where there were no windows or doors leading outside. Except for a small door, but he'd chained it well enough that it posed no risk. His legs were also chained on occasions, like when he was meant to go to sleep, and whenever Akihiko had to go out for a while. The basement itself wasn't the greatest place to take the boy, but it was the only sound proof place in the house. No one could hear his screams or moans; they just bounced around the room remaining like a never ending beat to their sex. The basement was large and dim with concrete floors and peeling gray walls. It was barren, dirty, smelling like blood and sex most of the time. Despite Misaki spending his days there, there weren't any objects to entertain him. It was him all alone until Akihiko went down.

Akihiko sighed tiredly, running a hand into his silver locks before shutting his laptop. The muse was gone he thought, getting up from his desk, and deciding to go to sleep. In the morning his own emotions would be more stable, and he'd focus on the punishment to deal out.

This would all be beneficial.

MMMMMM

"What, are you trying to deny what was so obvious on your face!" he shouted harshly, releasing the small arm, and sending the green eyed teen onto the hard floor. His elbow skid, his skin tearing a bit but he sat up. He kept quiet at first knowing better then to defend when Akihiko was like this. His body tensed coming together into a ball.

"Don't stay quiet! Answer me do you like that man!"

"No I don't. I didn't even…know him." He mumbled quietly, feeling so small when Akihiko's stare was scorching him. He was scared wanting to take back whatever had done to upset him.

The older man scoffed, and Misaki's eyes looked up from the stare at Akihiko's feet. Oh no. He knew what was coming.

"Akihiko-san, really I d-don't. I'm not….I just…." His face betrayed him, because he knew what he was saying wasn't true. And that would just give Akihiko more reason to …

"Finish Misaki!" he barked. "You don't what, hmm?!" He walked over to him, squatting down to the ground. Misaki flinched as he saw the hand coming towards him, slapping him across the face. Before he could fall back and cover the burning spot, Akihiko grabbed a fistful of brown hair and yanked it towards him. The teen screamed, his lids let the harbored tears fall as he tried to not look into the sadistic purple eyes.

"Were you going to say that you aren't gay?" his said shaking the boy. "Because I'm tired of that excuse, and I'm tired of hearing you say such lies. Look at me when I'm talking to you!" he ordered. He pulled the hairs down and Misaki's chin became raised. Misaki gasped, catching the dark features that were becoming apparent in the man's face. The pale skin, graying around his eyes, and brows etched in frustration. The sneer of his mouth, he appeared so devilish that it made his heart quake in apprehension.

He sniffled, "I'm sorry….." his eyes watering again, as his breathing went erratic. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, "…..but…I'm…I'm…not like you…."

At that moment the author lost it. Suddenly, Akihiko took the boy's wrists and pushed him down onto the cold concrete. He bound the wrists over his head, nails sharp dug into the flesh, as Misaki's eyes went even wider feeling the other hand grabbing his cock.

"Ugh, Ak-Akihikooo! I- I don't…want….ughh… wait!" He tried wriggling out, pushing up urgently trying to escape but Akihiko pushed down harder. It made the man even angrier. He kneed the teen's stomach, eliciting a high pitch screech. Misaki attempted to curl up from the blow, but Akihiko kept him straight. The eyes of the older man watched Misaki's pathetic attempts at trying to avoid the unavoidable. It was pointless he thought, his hands were designed to do other things, itching to do to the boy what was deserved. He leaned down onto Misaki's hair covered ear, a shaking shoulder bumping against his chest.

"You say that you're not, but why is it hard to be honest? When this…" he said, unzipping the boy's pants, sliding his fingers in and lifting the stiffening cock out from his underwear. Under him, he felt Misaki's pulse race, achieving a devious smirk from the author. "is so happy…" How could he deny when having another man's hand on his lovely cock made him respondent?

"P-Please…" he cried, sobbing more hysterical then before and not at all trying to cover his frantic breathing. He squeezed his eyes but it didn't help, his senses intensified making it much worse.

His nose began to run, "p-please d-donn't…." he plead trembling against the man's body. "I…..ju-just…." He breathed in deeply, hiccupping, "..wasn't..at-racted to that m-aa-nnn…ughhh…" Akihiko bit down on the tender ear, sinking teeth in like it was a piece of food.

"Misaki, don't worry…" he cooed. "I'm sure I should believe someone who can't even begin to be honest to himself. I can't ever trust a liar and you….!"

"Ahhh! A-ki, ugh…hiko!" he panted out, the thick hand constricting around his cock, running up and down the entire length. His hand went tighter.

"Misaki that's enough!" he shouted into the ear. " I don't ever care how you plead, because I'm disciplining you!" Through the pain Misaki's voice became a silent scream as he heard the word 'disciplined'. His heart sank.

The boy sat up immediately opening his eyes to a different kind of darkness. He placed a hand to his chest. Shit, his heart was racing but at least he knew that it wasn't real. So then it had all been a nightmare? No. No, it had happened he reminded himself. He frowned realizing he was guilty to the point it made an appearance in his dreams. But he had to leave, it was safer and sanier…..

Wait! He rapidly looked around, remembering he'd stopped at a bench to rest when he was blocks away from his home. This wasn't a park bench. He touched what was under him. It was soft and cushiony and this place was a room.

Where was he?