Awoken in the night by a cold touch and the smell of cigarettes. I'm
too young to know this sort of pain. In the silence of the late hour, I can
hear each barefooted step towards my bed, each little stumble, the rustling
of your robe as you try to strip it from your body. I hear you groan in
frustration, I clutch my sheets in a cold sweat. My lips mouth the words
"I'm sorry," for my voice is too weak to speak them. I'm too scared, too
tired, so I just submit. I feel the shifting of the weight on the bed, your
hands padding across, one on either side of my supposedly sleeping body.
Your body lowers on top of mine, and I realize how much bigger you are than
me. How much stronger you are than me, how much power you hold over me.
I
close my eyes tightly, your face is so close to mine. I feel our noses
touch, and the smell of liquor is strong on your breath. I don't want you
to kiss me, I hate that dirty taste. But you do, it's your sick way of
waking me up. Your tongue rolls over mine, around my teeth, into my throat.
I'm just a child, why are you touching me like this? Your hands are no
kinder than your tongue. Long delicate fingers explore my young body. A
body not meant to be harmed in this way. You touch parts of me that aren't
ready yet, you touch parts that aren't meant for you. My eyes are tearing,
but I don't want to open them. You know I'm awake now, droplets running
from my cheeks, a muffled "no" as you press your lips into mine. You stop
and let me breathe.
"Why no, Goku?" Your voice: deep. Your tone: vicious. Tired and worn, barely above a whisper, I know what's coming next. When you speak to me this way, I know, it's as though I have it all memorized. "You asked for this didn't you?"
I want to scream, "NO, no you fucker! Get off of me!" I want to scream and scream and scream. But I can't, I can only sit in silence. That's the extent of my defiance.
You yell something at me, but I can't hear it. All I hear is the sound of flesh on flesh, the feeling of your backhand against my cheek.
"You asked for this," you say, your hand fondling my crotch, "just as you asked for a slap across your face. Worthless. You're only good for one thing, and that is to punish." In the beginning, that's what I believed this all was. A way to make me sorry. The first time, I think I had dropped a bottle of sake, one of your better ones. The first time, it wasn't so bad. You took me aside, away from the others, and I remember Hakkai saying "Don't be so hard on him, he's only a child." Alone, in a dark corner, you'd grab my hair by the roots and throw me to the ground. I cried then as I watched you undress in front of me. I was so scared, I was shaking. I'd never seen a man naked before, standing in front of me, guiding my child like hands to your throbbing erection. I was so scared, I was so scared, everything was blur. You grabbed my head, forced me down. I gagged, I couldn't breathe, but you just pushed harder. Then softly, you say, "You asked for this." I went to bed crying.
But now, what have I done? Speak out of turn, eat too much, looked at you the wrong way? You'll find any excuse now to punish me, no matter how many times I say I'm sorry.
You push your hands past the waistline of my pants, slowly pulling them off my body. The cold air hits my body, you expose my most private area. I'm now reduced to nothing before your eyes, just a plaything. You take full advantage of your situation, starting with my young penis. You touch me and rub me, own every part of me. You're the master. You're hands become more forceful, and I whimper in pain. Pulling, squeezing, doing everything you can to make me cry. I hear your voice,
"That's right, that's right. I know how much you love it when I touch you. Tell me how much you love it." I finally open my eyes to see you. Your image is blurred by too many of my vain tears. But I see you still, crouched over me mixed in shadow and moonlight. The lust in your eyes is plain as day though as I feel your fingers slip towards my backside, cupping my butt in your hand. "Tell me," your voice heavy and ragged, "tell master how much you love him. Tell him how sorry you are." I cannot hold out much longer, my anger fades to nothingness.
"I'm sorry," my own voice sounds so foreign to me. It hurts me physically to speak these words, and, it hurts me on a deeper level. "I love it when you punish me...master."
Then it's all like some strange dream. I know, I know what you're doing. I can see you move on top of me, pushing my legs aside, raising my hips off the bed. You position yourself over me so I can see your face, how sick and twisted it looks each time you thrust into me. So I can hear your moans, smell your breath, feel it sting on my face. You begin, and emotion is lost on me. I lie down on my back and I let you rape me. In the past I cried, I'd try to run off, call for help. But now, now I just bare it, I know now I cannot win. Only Master can win, only Master can claim his prize.
You are close, I can tell. I myself am making noises, discrete whimpering, as you thrust harder into me. You're sweating now and so am I. The night is hot, it burns me, you burn me. You are coming harder now, my body aches from the position. My body aches, period. And then finally, you release inside of me and you fall over in a sweat heap, half on top of me. Between your ragged breaths I am able to catch "You little bitch," then you fall asleep, drunk and empty. I pray silently that you vomit and die during the night.
And I'm left a lone with my thoughts till morning. I spread my legs far apart on the bed, hurts less when I do that. I used to bleed when he fucked me, and I couldn't understand why. Then I'd wake in the morning to some of my own blood mixed with your seed and I'd begin to cry, in a mix of fear and realization. You had claimed me, you had beaten me, broken me and marked me. I felt so wronged.
Now, now it's just life. The dirty feelings are all gone..just the anger now and again.
Gojyo always comments now on how quiet I am, when we're out riding in Jeep. I just smile and I say I'm hungry, and everyone buys it. Though now, maybe they're beginning to sense something, who knows. It may seem a little strange that sometimes I can't sit right, or I have bruises and gashes even if we haven't been fighting. But what could Gojyo and Hakkai do? Sanzo would probably kill them if they went for help. This is my punishment, this is my path.
The cool breeze feels good running through my hair. I smile at it, quietly, wondering how long it will last.
"Why no, Goku?" Your voice: deep. Your tone: vicious. Tired and worn, barely above a whisper, I know what's coming next. When you speak to me this way, I know, it's as though I have it all memorized. "You asked for this didn't you?"
I want to scream, "NO, no you fucker! Get off of me!" I want to scream and scream and scream. But I can't, I can only sit in silence. That's the extent of my defiance.
You yell something at me, but I can't hear it. All I hear is the sound of flesh on flesh, the feeling of your backhand against my cheek.
"You asked for this," you say, your hand fondling my crotch, "just as you asked for a slap across your face. Worthless. You're only good for one thing, and that is to punish." In the beginning, that's what I believed this all was. A way to make me sorry. The first time, I think I had dropped a bottle of sake, one of your better ones. The first time, it wasn't so bad. You took me aside, away from the others, and I remember Hakkai saying "Don't be so hard on him, he's only a child." Alone, in a dark corner, you'd grab my hair by the roots and throw me to the ground. I cried then as I watched you undress in front of me. I was so scared, I was shaking. I'd never seen a man naked before, standing in front of me, guiding my child like hands to your throbbing erection. I was so scared, I was so scared, everything was blur. You grabbed my head, forced me down. I gagged, I couldn't breathe, but you just pushed harder. Then softly, you say, "You asked for this." I went to bed crying.
But now, what have I done? Speak out of turn, eat too much, looked at you the wrong way? You'll find any excuse now to punish me, no matter how many times I say I'm sorry.
You push your hands past the waistline of my pants, slowly pulling them off my body. The cold air hits my body, you expose my most private area. I'm now reduced to nothing before your eyes, just a plaything. You take full advantage of your situation, starting with my young penis. You touch me and rub me, own every part of me. You're the master. You're hands become more forceful, and I whimper in pain. Pulling, squeezing, doing everything you can to make me cry. I hear your voice,
"That's right, that's right. I know how much you love it when I touch you. Tell me how much you love it." I finally open my eyes to see you. Your image is blurred by too many of my vain tears. But I see you still, crouched over me mixed in shadow and moonlight. The lust in your eyes is plain as day though as I feel your fingers slip towards my backside, cupping my butt in your hand. "Tell me," your voice heavy and ragged, "tell master how much you love him. Tell him how sorry you are." I cannot hold out much longer, my anger fades to nothingness.
"I'm sorry," my own voice sounds so foreign to me. It hurts me physically to speak these words, and, it hurts me on a deeper level. "I love it when you punish me...master."
Then it's all like some strange dream. I know, I know what you're doing. I can see you move on top of me, pushing my legs aside, raising my hips off the bed. You position yourself over me so I can see your face, how sick and twisted it looks each time you thrust into me. So I can hear your moans, smell your breath, feel it sting on my face. You begin, and emotion is lost on me. I lie down on my back and I let you rape me. In the past I cried, I'd try to run off, call for help. But now, now I just bare it, I know now I cannot win. Only Master can win, only Master can claim his prize.
You are close, I can tell. I myself am making noises, discrete whimpering, as you thrust harder into me. You're sweating now and so am I. The night is hot, it burns me, you burn me. You are coming harder now, my body aches from the position. My body aches, period. And then finally, you release inside of me and you fall over in a sweat heap, half on top of me. Between your ragged breaths I am able to catch "You little bitch," then you fall asleep, drunk and empty. I pray silently that you vomit and die during the night.
And I'm left a lone with my thoughts till morning. I spread my legs far apart on the bed, hurts less when I do that. I used to bleed when he fucked me, and I couldn't understand why. Then I'd wake in the morning to some of my own blood mixed with your seed and I'd begin to cry, in a mix of fear and realization. You had claimed me, you had beaten me, broken me and marked me. I felt so wronged.
Now, now it's just life. The dirty feelings are all gone..just the anger now and again.
Gojyo always comments now on how quiet I am, when we're out riding in Jeep. I just smile and I say I'm hungry, and everyone buys it. Though now, maybe they're beginning to sense something, who knows. It may seem a little strange that sometimes I can't sit right, or I have bruises and gashes even if we haven't been fighting. But what could Gojyo and Hakkai do? Sanzo would probably kill them if they went for help. This is my punishment, this is my path.
The cool breeze feels good running through my hair. I smile at it, quietly, wondering how long it will last.
