The Taste of Someone Beautiful

Kagoatweed’s Rant: R&R please, but don’t steal ideas.

Everyone else left with a pounding headache. I left with the taste of someone beautiful on my tongue. His gaze stopped me cold, and with a smile I was no longer my own. My breath will never escape the chains he used to hold me still.

He was the poison with the sweet smell, intoxicating, exquisite. When I caught scent of his being, of his movement, my eyes would flutter closed and I would breathe in his seduction. Musky, heavy, tainted, it smothered me, cut me off from cold, uncaring, dispensable breath. Instead, I took breath from his glamour.

Stroking my hips tenderly, urgently, he lured me in. My vision caught him smiling, his eyes gleaming in sin. He would look at me, then his eyes would dart away into the kaleidoscope of bodies around us. His bright eyes flashed with the colors of the strobe lights, and his smile seduced me in Technicolor.

Only when harsh white light shone did I return to mortality. For mere moments, I would remember the throbbing music, the drowned gurgle of sweating addicts who protected us. For a second, my brain would snap. ‘Remember!’ it screamed. ‘Forget me not!’ it cried. But by then the lights had gone dim and my body was begging.

Gentle hands pushed firm on the small of my back, and my arms coiled around his shoulders. My half-aware glance and a smile that attempted to return the seduction earned another dose of addiction. Swiping light fingertips over my skin, he leaned into me. Our foreheads pressed together. Our heat, our sweat shocked me with their sudden union. I blinked, tried to regain my unfocus. It was not hard. Already he was calming me with his luminous eyes. I became docile, his puppet, his tool.

He tied my waist with unseen ropes, knotted them before I cared to notice. Those ropes, those ties, he pulled me closer, until his knee locked in between mine. Our hips pushed against one another, his arousal pressing into my leg with every motion.

The music slowed for no one but us. He found a low, slow beat and his hands on my spine guided me to it, into slow motions. Tilting his head up, mine followed suit. Tentatively, his lips brushed mine. They were moist, soft, and most tantalizingly foreign. Sensing no resistance, he found wicked ways to tease me. He tasted my lips, first with just his, then with the slick tip of his tongue. He sucked my lower lip, letting it go with a swipe of poison.

Becoming more intoxicated without leaving his arms, my mouth opened slightly. Pressing his hips into me, he mimicked his hips with his tongue, leaving the warmth of his mouth for the question of mine. Within moments, we were no longer two separate beings. Erotica on the dance floor had ensued, and I was in no position to prevent it.

His tongue swirling around mine, his lips melting, my beautiful boy had seduced me. In his last movement, the one that most clearly made him my master, he pulled away, whispered something incoherent that made my knees weak, and became lost in the crowd of techno zombies, a cult into which I had been fully inducted.

As I left, a trail of poor bastards following me, they rubbed their temples, squinted their red eyes. They complained of the lights and the noise as we walked farther and farther from the light-swathed sepulcher that would hold my master.

There is a chain that yet binds me to him. This chain will never rust nor break, and between my legs I sense it. My beautiful master never let me go.