X3 moar pronz for you :heart: this is the one I mentioned a couple of tales back that I finally got around to editing, and holy crap, did it need it… practically rewrote half of it, and it’s still not all that great (I do, however, have a bit of a love for this one, and I always say that what I write isn’t all that great anyway, so :shrugs: )

Anyways, this one doesn’t quite stand all on its lonesome. It can, but it’s just a wee bit confusing so… background info time :heart:

Okay, so, the guy whose point of view this is in is Vincent Niwa, an evil scientist who has managed to create life after death. Hachiko is his eighth trial, and his second success (his name literally meaning eighth child). Ella is another one of Vincent’s experiments, the tenth, and is kinda like a robot, only built like an Asian ball jointed doll. Nana is the first successful experiment of Vincent’s, at number seven (and nana means seven).

Hachiko was essentially cloned from one of Nana’s eyeballs, which Vincent ripped out at one point in time or another, mostly ‘cause he was bored. Hachiko is a boy ‘cause Vincent replaced some of the chromosomes in the eyeball with his own…

Nana was originally a dead body that Vincent bought to reanimate, and something went wrong… although Vincent succeeded in reanimating Nana, she partially fused with the iron in the table she was on, and that iron has reinforced her bones and all that jazz (and she’s got her own magnetic field… she can set things in orbit around her). Not long after Hachiko was “born”, Nana decided that what Vincent was doing was evil, so she ran off and now she’s at war against him… kinda like a superhero vs supervillian thing :shrugs:

This one’s also kinda like a story being told while being flashbacked upon… or something… it’s a little hard to explain…

Tale Twenty-Three: Make You Mine

Completed: … you don’t even want to know. This is from my vaults. It’s old.

Warnings: a lot… some sort of incest (I think it would be classified as clonecest, but I could be wrong), noncon, sadomasochism, gore/violence, and border line pedophilia and necrophilia (kinda, ‘cause Hachiko looks to be sixteen or seventeen, but he’s only been “alive” for about a year, and he isn’t entirely alive in the first place).

XxX

“He was in the kitchen, looking so utterly tasty just staring at the linoleum with those vacant eyes of his. I couldn't resist. I walked into the room and smirked at him. He gasped as I growled his name...

...

"Hachiko... my beautiful boy..."

He visibly shudders, his fear showing in those vivid purple orbs, in those full, luscious lips as they part in surprise. I walk up to him, watching as his knees shake, and pin his hands against the wall. Black hair falls away from his face as he looks up at me, terrified. My eyes trace the scars along the left side of his face, especially the one curling down across his cheekbone from one slightly fogged eye. His lower lip quivers.

I slide both his hands along the wall ‘til they’re above his head. I pin them there with one hand, using the other to spread his thighs. A slight whimper comes from him. It just causes me to smirk even more as I grind my thigh against his clothed groin. His eyes drop from my face as his eyebrows furrow; other than that he doesn't react. I curse, fury flaring up inside me. I can never get a rise out of him. He never gets hard for me. I scowl at his downcast face and shove my hip a little more firmly against his body. He gasps, but it's pain filled.

"You!" I snarl, "I made you."

I shove him aside, releasing him from my grasp only for him to impact the floor heavily. He whimpers.

I look down at him, smug expression on my face. He looks so cute like that, his torso twisted, on his hands, soft sobs dropping from his lips. He's so beautiful… his young body calls to me, telling me to claim it. It's mine after all.

"P-please," he pleads softly. I laugh shortly at his pitiful excuse of begging. He's not even putting up a fight. Not like before.

I drop to my knees and grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him up so I can look into his face. Tears slide down his porcelain cheeks. I lick at one, only causing more to fall.

"My poor boy," I say soothingly against his skin. I feel him swallow heavily. I pull him close, wrapping my arms around his slim shoulders in a hug as I continue to murmur to him, "I'm not going to hurt you."

His body relaxes a minute amount as he sobs softly into my neck.

"Don't… just please, don’t."

I laugh softly. One hand slides to his waist, than to the inside of his thigh before gently cupping his crotch. He tries to squirm away from me, but I hold him in place. Still, nothing.

"S-stop!" he tells me. His lithe, teenage body presses and arches against mine as he struggles to get away. I groan as I imagine that body doing the same thing under mine, but not to get away, to get closer. That only makes him more frantic to flee.

I push him over and straddle his waist, pinning him to the ground as I eye him hungrily. His mouth looks so appetizing. I'm almost tempted to just fuck him there, but I don’t want to risk him biting me. He bucks, trying to throw me off, only to rub against my growing erection. I moan and he whimpers.

Than I pull open his shirt, the buttons keeping it closed popping off and flying across the room. He grabs my wrists and again tries to throw me off. Needless to say, it doesn't work. With one deft hand, I undo the tie at my neck before I bind his hands together with it and shove him back. He lands on his back, legs spread and toes pointed inwards. I crawl in between his thighs to look into his face. He shivers under me, breath coming in ragged puffs from his parted lips. I lower and press my mouth to his, barely giving him time to react as I snake my tongue into his mouth. I hear him squeak as I invade, probing the moist cavern. Then his teeth clamp down, biting into my tongue. I hiss in pain and with one hand grab his throat. His eyes narrow in defiance. I squeeze. He opens his mouth, releasing me.

I pull away and smirk, whispering, "I was going to be nice. I wasn't going to hurt you, but now... your ass is mine."

I see his jaw clench as he turns his face to the side. I also see the tears begging to escape as he struggles to breath. "Please," he gasps, "Leave me alone."

I scoot myself downwards a few inches and slide the hand on his throat up, tilting his head back, exposing virgin flesh upon which I feast, nipping and sucking as he mewls desperately. It's music to my ears. I trace down the column of his neck to his chest, harshly biting the hollow of his throat. He yells in pain, blood welling up around my teeth. I lap it up and continue down, leaving a trail of bloody saliva down his torso. He squeaks when I pull one of his perky nipples into my mouth and suck, cool fingers toying with the other, and when I dip my tongue into his navel. Finally, I get to his pants.

Once more, I grab and massage his groin through the denim of his jeans. This time, however, he gasps breathily and bites his lip, eyes screwing shut as I feel him harden in my hand. I smile triumphantly.

I start to unbutton his pants, but before I manage, he smacks me hard with his bound hands. The blow knocks me over and stuns me, propelling my glasses off my face and across the floor, giving him some time to scramble out from under me and a few feet away. I curse again, the right side of my head slightly tender from his blow and grab his ankle just before he manages to stand. I drag him back and take a fist full of hair in one hand as the other arm wraps around his middle. I pull his back against my chest, his head forced back to rest on my shoulder.

"Don't you dare do that again, boy," I snarl into his ear. He whimpers in answer, his chest heaving with his breath, his eyes wide. The hand at his waist snakes down over his hip, slipping into his pants as the other keeps a firm grip in his hair. The boy sobs as I gently press against the lower part of his stomach with my palm, fingertips just barely in his pants. I completely remove them in favor of releasing the snap holding them up after a moment, his soft, whispering cries echoing in my ear. The zipper drops and again I dip my hand into his underwear, this time entirely, fingers wrapping around his half hard shaft. A quiet cry of surprise escapes his lips as I squeeze. I turn my head and kiss his cheek.

He continues to writhe and whimper as I hold him in place, thoroughly enjoying the noises he unwillingly makes.

He slams his elbow into my gut quite suddenly. I gasp and double over, releasing him from my grasp. Again, he scuttles away, managing to stand at the doorway.

"Don't you dare try to touch me, you sick freak!" he yells defiantly, although we both know there's no way for him to fully escape. I look up at him, scowling, as he inches towards the butcher block containing a large array of knives and other various pointy kitchenwares. His eyes are narrowed, his lips set firm, blood smeared and dribbling across his chest from the hole I bit in his neck and his bound hands grip his pants in vain, trying to keep them up.

I glare and just as he decides to grab a knife, I reach out and yank him down, throwing him face down across the floor. The knife slips from his fingertips and slides across the linoleum to lodge itself in the wall on the other side of the room. He groans in pain as he tries to push himself up again, blood splattered under his torso. I tut at him scolding and speak.

"Ella isn’t going to like the mess you've made of her kitchen," I say disapprovingly, "Especially that knife in the wall."

He sobs when I push his head back against the floor, leaving the rest of him on his knees. I lean over him, pressing my straining erection into his rump, and whisper, "You shouldn't disobey you're father."

"You're not my father!" he spits, "No father would do something like this!"

I press his face harder against the linoleum and growl, "If it wasn't for me, you would have never been born."

"I WISH I NEVER WAS!"

"And you say this to the man who clothes you, who feeds you, who raised you, who loves you! For all the things I've done for you, I've never gotten any thanks. All I'm doing is receiving a... a payment of sorts."

He chokes on sobs as both of my hands go to his shoulders. I drag my fingers across his back, nails leaving nasty red welts in their wake. He sobs harder, crimson oozing out of the abused skin. I lap at one area across his shoulder blade, causing him to hiss in pain.

"Stop... please," he whimpers, chest heaving, "I'll do anything, just, please..."

I laugh mirthlessly, tugging his pants down to his knees, towards his ankles as best I can without letting him up before fighting with the snap on my own pants. My jacket swirls around his hips as I worm my way out of the slim fitting jeans I've taken a liking to wearing lately. More soft snivels come from my beloved boy as I moan, naked flesh meeting heated, naked flesh.

My hands grip his hips in a bruising hold as I mentally prepare myself. I hear whispered prayers for help while my eyes roll back in my head, envisioning the pleasure about to enfold me. I plunge into his tight entrance all the way to the hilt, a throaty groan tumbling from my lips as a scream rips from his. I almost come just from hearing that, the cry echoing in the practically empty house.

I pull out roughly half way only to thrust back in hard with a wet squelch. He's sobbing even louder now, intermittently crying out that it hurts. That doesn't stop me from setting a fast, rough pace that keeps him screaming.

Eventually, though, he stops. All he does is gasp hoarsely as the puddle of tears grows under his face and twin pools of blood join on the floor. I groan happily as I pound into his virgin body.

I slide one hand around to grasp his hardened self and to my delight, he moans, then hiccups wetly. I pump him in time to my thrusts, causing more sob like moans to erupt from his lips.

Not long after, his body stiffens as he cries out in release, his seed making even more of a mess on the floor as well as covering my hand. With his pulsing walls clamping around me as he orgasms, it's not long before I, too, come. I continue to thrust, although they slow in speed and force, as I ride out the waves of pleasure racking my body.

His body goes limp under me, my hands the only things keeping him from collapsing into his own juices just yet. I pull out my final time, completely, sighing in content. A soft, tired, slightly pained sound comes from the boy as I move. I let him go and stand, pulling my pants up. His knees just slide across the floor, the blood underfoot slickening it even more, and he falls flat. I walk out of the room, thankful that my jeans are black so Ella isn't going to kill me for getting blood all over them.

I look over my shoulder one last time just before I leave the kitchen. Behind me lies my poor sweet boy, bound, naked and covered in blood, as well as other unmentionable substances, his eyes vacant and cold.

...

“And that was just the first time I did more than grope him. Not long after, barely two days time, we found ourselves alone again, together. Ella had gone out to get a few things from the store, meaning she would be away for more than an hour and be back with half the store.

...

"Mister Vincent!" she calls down from upstairs, "I'm off. I'll be back soon, 'kay?"

"Could you send Hachiko down here first?" I ask, hollering back from the base of the stairs.

"Sure thing!" comes her chipper voice. I smile and return to my seat. A moment later, my vacant eyed boy stands in the doorway at the top of my stairs. I motion for him to come down. He hesitates, only taking one step.

"What do you want?" he asks, a faint glimmer of his former self reappearing for a brief second. I smile up at him and press a button on the remote in my hand. The door behind him snaps shut and a metallic click announces that it's locked now, too.

"What do I want? Why, that'd be you, my dear."

He goes back to being the genetically made corpse he is, walking monotonously towards me in my dark lab. The harsh light flickering from the many monitors around the room makes us both look even paler than we really are, but personally, I think it sets the mood pretty well.

"That limp of yours is annoying me, and I think your jaw is dislocated."

His eyes narrow just a fraction as I motion to the chair I had specially prepared for him with a couple of pillows. He sits, a slight wince making itself present as I stand before him.

Taking his jaw gently in my hand, I tilt his head upwards. He closes his eyes and his lips part just slightly, making him look irresistible. I swoop down and barely press a kiss to those delicious lips of his. He gasps softly and I pull away in order to inspect his jaw. I gently squeeze where his jaw connects to the rest of his skull on both sides.

I was right: it is just a bit out of joint on the left side. I place a little more pressure on that side and the boy hisses in pain. It may even be fractured. I hush him and wiggle the bone in my hand. It pops and with a quick shove, it goes back to where it belongs. I pat his cheek and tell him to stand. He does, slowly.

"On the table, please."

He crawls onto the empty metal counter like table near the center of the room on all fours. I stop him from lying down on his back; the way he's on his knees is just fine. I hear him swallow hard as I slide his loose pants over his hips.

I sigh sadly when I see the sorry condition of his rear. He’s red and swollen from when I had so violently taken him. I turn around and grab the bowl of goo I had previously been mixing. The boy quietly whimpers. Gently, I kiss his lower back as I coat my fingers in the gel.

"This is going to hurt just a little," I tell him, bringing my fingers up to his abused hole. I slide in the first two fingers on the one hand up to the middle knuckle. His front falls to his shoulders with a start when I barely wiggle the pair. I chuckle.

I add a third finger, gently curving the trio to make them almost like a certain somewhat cylindrical intrusion. I bite back a moan as I press them in even further. Soft, pained whimpers fall to my ears when I add the fourth and last digit and slide the group in as far as possible. The boy squeaks and almost tries to wiggle away.

"Ah..."

That little sound sets my blood on fire. I control myself though, not willing to cause him any more physical harm. Instead, I finish up applying the salve into his rear than tell him to stand. He does, red faced as he pulls his pants up over his hips. I catch a glimpse of his barely half hard member. I smirk and drop into the chair I had been occupying before Ella sent him down.

"Kneel before me, my boy," I command. He glares defiantly down from his higher position. My own erection strains behind my jeans again.

"No."

I sigh, "Well, than I guess we're just going to have to settle for something a little rougher on your body, hmm?"

That gets his attention as he stares at me wide eyed.

"W-what do you mean?" he asks timidly, fear quaking his voice. I smile.

"I was simply going to claim that beautiful mouth of yours, but I guess I could pound into your poor, little ass again, if that's what you really want."

I make to stand, watching as he debates on what I have just said before he hesitantly drops to his knees, eyes downcast. I smile wider.

"That's a good boy," I whisper to him. He just stares at the bulge of my crotch as I lean back and spread my legs wider. He captures his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing on it as he waits.. for me.

"Well?" I ask. He glances up, flushing marvously, before looking down again as he swallows nervously. His thin fingers pop the button at the top of my jeans than grip the zipper pull to tug it down. He does, gasping slightly as he comes face to face with the sheer volume of me. I can practically hear him thinking, 'that was in me?' It's cute really, the look of utter shock on his face. I blink down at him, my breathing already fairly heavy, just from the close proximity of his mouth being where I want it.

"It's not going to suck itself," I tell him, smirking at my, idiotic smart alec comment. He leans forward slightly, his hands lightly bracing himself on my thighs. I groan as the tip his velvet tongue flicks across the head of my cock. He takes me into his mouth almost immediately. My eyes roll back in their sockets as I deny myself to the urge to thrust.

He sucks slightly and I move my hands from the tight grip they had on the chair's arms to hold his hair away from his face. His cheeks flush a brilliant red as I take away his only remaining means of hiding. I smile and moan.

His lips, teeth and tongue glide smoothly over my throbbing flesh. I force his head down farther each time until he starts gagging and even then I push father, groaning an array of colorful words. By the time I release deep in his throat, tears are streaming down his face and his eyes swim--a beautiful, watery amethyst.

He throws himself backwards, choking and sputtering. His torso twists as he slams his palms into the floor, spitting out my essence. I sigh, still ridding out the bliss his mouth gave me.

With my eyes half-closed and my head thrown back, I murmur, "Why'd you spit?"

He wipes his mouth and glares, spitting again at the floor between my feet. He glares, muttering, "That's disgusting."

I fix my pants and sit up straight. We stare at each other, his gaze hateful while mine is somewhat cheerful.

I almost scoop him up in a hug; he looks so cute, trying to be defiant.

...

“After that night, I had him share my bed. He absolutely refused at first, but I told him quite plainly that I'd have his ass on a plate if he didn't. He glared again before deflating. I watched as he walked into his room to change behind closed doors. That's how it's been, more or less, for the past three weeks.

“At first, he'd stay on the farthest side away from where I lay, curled up in a tight ball on top of the covers, facing me. Then he migrated under the blankets, then a little closer, than he stretched out. It didn’t take long before he was right along side me, his head resting on my chest, one arm thrown around my middle. He never started out this way; he'd always move in his sleep, as if drawn by the heat coming from my body, and he'd never see himself like that. I always woke up before he did, taking a moment for myself to stroke his hair and listen to him breath. After, I'd slide from under him and start my morning routine.

“My favorite times with him, however, are those random moments during the day that he isn't able to hide from me.

...

I watch as he casually flips through the TV channels. I love how he sits, how he lounges on the couch. It's as if he doesn't know that I'm standing in the doorway.

His legs are splayed and bent at the knees, meeting up with each other at the ankles as one shoulder leans against the arm of the furniture. His left arm dangles over the side, his other braced on the corresponding knee, clicker aimed at the TV.

I want him. Now.

I think he just about wets himself when I suddenly appear and pin him to the couch. I smile at him. His eyes go wide.

"Hi."

He blinks at me as I sit right in front of him, almost between his thighs. His mouth opens slightly.

"I'm going to fuck you now."

And indeed, I will. I peel the slim fitting black tee shirt he's wearing over his head while his in a state of shock. My mouth descends to suck on his chest and he gasps; the clicker falls from his fingers to land in his lap as both his hands go simultaneously claw at my back and push me away. I smirk as his body unconsciously shifts to better accommodate me.

I push him farther into the couch's arm and he groans.

"W-what are you doing?! Stop!"

Of course I don't. Instead, I grab his crotch and squeeze. He gasps again, back arching as his eyes screw shut. I pull my mouth away from his left nipple, blowing cold air at it, while I continue to torture him

He likes it. I know he does, he knows he does. He's practically begging to be fucked. I all but rip his pants off in my haste. I want him so bad.

I have him naked under me in next to no time, his lithe body pressed against mine as I smother him with my weight in order to keep him from kicking tender parts. His fingers clench in my shirt, tugging at it. I slip out of the dark blue cotton and toss it to the floor, pleased that it’s really the only layer I’ll have to remove.

I sigh at the skin on skin contact, my lips brushing up against his cheek. His nails scrape against my chest as I grind my denim clad thigh into his groin. Again, he murmurs at me to stop, his voice like velvet, so soft and smooth. It just makes me want him even more.

"Just give in, love," I whisper into his ear. He shudders. One of my hands goes to his hair, to tilt his head back so I can chew on his neck while the fingers on the other work my pants over my hips. From the pocket of my jeans, I pull a small vial of lube and dip my fingers into it before lifting his hips and plunging the fingers into his rear.

He cries out, half in pain, half in pleasure. I continue nipping at his neck and shoulder while thrusting into him with my fingers. I rock my hips against his ass too, moaning against his skin at the friction. He whimpers, almost delighted, but still very scared. I'm so glad he's given up though. It makes this so much easier. Although I guess it does take out some of the fun in it.

I smear some of the remaining lube across my cock before pressing it into him, both hands gripping his boney hips. I go slower this time. He asks why, timidly.

"If I'm nice now, I get more later," I reply simply.

He whimpers again. "It... it hurts," he moans, his fingers clutching at my shoulders.

I just start thrusting, listening to the pained moans of his. They're beautiful. I keep my strokes even and smooth, sliding my fingers around his own member.

He squirms and bucks against my movements, vocalizing both his enjoyment and distaste of what he's being put through. I can tell how much he likes it from the way he clings to me. My pace increases and as I pound into him harder, his moans grow louder. Each thrust is accompanied with a heavy puff of breath and a harsh hum-like moan. It makes me smile. I can't wait to hear what accompanies his orgasm.

I don't have long to wait, though. After a minor angling adjustment, I proceed to slam into his prostate with every push. Every sound he makes is amplified and multiplied three-fold. He releases barely a few moments later; and practically screams in pleasure. I nearly melt.

I thrust a few more times before I, too, come, growling throatily as I do. I all but collapse onto him after, breathing heavily as he sobs. I pull out and wrap my arms around his thin chest, pressing my face into his silken flesh.

A hand of his leaves my shoulder to wipe at his eyes. He sniffles, "Why? Why do you do this?"

If I was happy before, I must be absolutely exhilarated now. His question causes me to smile against him.

My lips brush his skin as I say, "Because I want to hear you beg for me. I want to hear you ask to be pleasured, to plead to pleasure me. I want to hear two little words fall from your lips, maybe with the addition of a please; you're Daddy didn't teach you to be rude, now did he?"

I listen to his heartbeat as its pace fluctuates. It's the only thing answering me.

After a long pause, he breathes, "But why?"

I don't answer; I have nothing to tell him, no reason. I just do. The thought of him begging for me to fuck him is just... unbearable. It's so erotic.

I sit back and pull him with me, sitting him into my lap, still facing me, as I shift to sit correctly upon the piece of furniture. I smell the sex on him. I can taste it faintly on my tongue.

"Because I'm going to make you mine."

He presses closer, using me to hide him from the world. "You surely aren't going about wooing me correctly," he sighs. It's his way of asking me to be nicer, I guess. I nuzzle into his neck and tighten my grip on him. It's not going to happen.

His soft naked flesh against me, the way he holds onto me, his soft breath on my neck reawakens my desire for him. With a smirk, I ask, "Ready for round two?"

I don’t even let him answer as push him over, back onto the couch. I waste no time in positioning myself between his knees, gripping his member harshly. His back arches as he cries out for seemingly the millionth time this afternoon. Such a beautiful sound. I just love it. I love it as I love him.

I easily bring him back to hardness before my mouth descends upon his shaft. His fingers fly to clutch at my hair as I suck. He moans, surprised. I grin around his shaft. He's so relaxed, so broken. He sobs and moans, sounding so sad. It's such a turn on.

I suck a little harder as he claws at the back of my head.

"Na! S-stop," he cries, but I know that's not what he wants. It's only obvious that he wants me to be doing this, to be pleasuring him like so. The proof is in the way he's moaning and arching.

He yells my name as he orgasms for the second time just this afternoon. I swallow and release him, pulling back to watch him look away, blushing fiercely, while I lick my lips. He tastes so good.

"If this part of you tastes so sweet," I murmur, licking his cheek, "and your skin so salty, I wonder how your blood is flavored."

He swallows hard, chewing the inside of his lip. I jerk his head back to face me and crush my mouth to his in a bruising kiss. He licks his lips afterwards, a habit I've noticed, as I grin down at him.

I chuckle as I stroke his cheek. Oh, my plans for this night are wonderful. I can hardly wait.

...

"You’re a sick bastard!" she yells at me. I tut disapprovingly at my oldest "child".

"You've interrupted my story, Nana," I reply. She wanted to know what I did to her poor "brother" so I'm telling her. It's just the simple truth.

"The things you do are fucking sick, you... you..."

I sigh, smiling, and say, "Well, if you'd let me finish, you'd know how much Hachiko likes it. It just took him a bit to warm up to the idea. Now, where was I..?"

“I watched as he undresses sadly, as his unvoiced thoughts were smothered by his own self. He sat down obediently on the bed. He blushed shamefully. He knew what was going to happen, and his body looked forward to it. He was already half hard…

…

I move to straddle his waist, my naked flesh grinding against his as I pull his arms up over his head. He lets me tie his wrists together to the headboard. His slim, pale body looks so terribly nice against the navy blue of my sheets… I can’t help but smile down at him. His breathing is soft and relaxed, evenly passing through his parted lips. I kiss them gently. He returns it hesitantly, opening his mouth a little farther, granting me entrance. I ignore it, favoring suckling on his candied lips more. He breathes a moan. I sit back, looking down at him.

"Do you know what I'm going to do?" I ask him sweetly. His long, dark eyelashes rest against his cheekbone, his eyes softly shut. He takes a deep breath and lets it out shakily.

"You're going to," he flushes, "to..."

I laugh shortly. "Whatever you're thinking, my boy, you're wrong… at least for now. First, I'm going to play with your body, see how long you last."

I stand again and walk over to one of the various daggers lining my wall. I pull one off, choosing a seven inch, steel blade with a hilt embedded with purples and reds, the colors of my "children". I slide it from its sheath, the sharp, metallic ring filling the room. The blade glimmers in the faint lighting. It's sharp, oh so very sharp.

I return to my boy's side, placing the cold steel against his warm flesh. He whimpers, "Don't."

"Oh, but I will. I want to, I need to."

I twist the blade, sliding the sharpened point along protrusion of one of his ribs, blood beading along the fine cut. He gasps sharply in pain. I curve the line around, coming back along his fleshy middle, pressing more firmly. You can hear the skin splitting under the assault of the knife, ripping the fine tissue as more blood wells forth. He grimaces and clenches his teeth, his breathing ragged and pained.

"Want me to stop?" I ask. He nods. I laugh, "Not until you say what I want to hear."

His belly shivers deliciously as I continue to carve patterns into his body. As much as he wants me to end his torture, he refuses to do what I expect of him. He won't beg for me. He lies there in front of me, taking what I give like a man, even though it hurts him. It’s really rather cute.

At each turn, I add more pressure, and soon, I'm cutting quite deep. His tears roll off his cheeks and wet the pillows beneath his head. I almost feel sorry for him; he looks like he's in such pain. I kiss his shoulder and again, ask if he would like me to stop. He shakes his head no, his bottom lip quivering. I smile at his trial of reverse psychology.

I drag the knife all the way up his chest and along his throat to his chin, then back down, all the way to his groin. He whimpers as I pull it across his hips and thighs, wandering dangerously close to his most sensitive area. I push the point of the blade into the soft skin along the inside of his thigh, steel sheering flesh as I carefully stab him. His soft, clenched wail increases in volume until he yells and screams.

"Please! Please, stop! It hurts. Stop, please, I'll do anything, just please!"

I laugh. He's just so cute when he's crying, when he's in pain. I kiss above his navel, tasting blood on my lips.

"What do you say?'

'T-t-take me in-instead, p-please."

I smile. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Those words falling from his lips nearly make me melt. It's just lovely, so beautiful, so erotic.

"C-could you untie me. I... I want to touch you."

His hazy eyes are shielded by ebony lashes, glistening with dew-like tears. His cheeks are flushed with pain and embarrassment, and his lips, they're reddened by his teeth's abuse. I can just tell that he won't do anything other than what he said he would. After all, I still have a knife in hand.

I untie him, slowly. He sits up once I'm done and wraps his arms around my neck, pulling himself close. I pat his back as he hugs me, muttering silently against my shoulder.

"See how much easier it is now that you've given in?" I ask. He lasted much longer than I thought he would. He sighs into me for an answer, nuzzling into my skin. He kisses lightly the crook of my neck.

I call for Ella. She enters not a moment later, unfazed by our nudity, and smiles at my poor boy.

"Aw... how sweet," she coos comfortingly to him, before looking up at me, "Would you like me to draw a bath?"

I nod and she leaves just as swiftly as she came, exposed joints grinding and shining with oil as she moves. I grin; one of my best accomplishments, although I love 008 more. My sweet, innocent boy, my eighth trial and only my second successful completion. Once so gentle and carefree, now completely and forever mine.

...

“Ella came back to alert us when the bath was ready. By that time, I had already pulled a robe on. He had returned to clinging to me, holding my arm to his naked and bloody chest. I literally had to carry him to the bath…

"Nana, love, why do you glare at me so?" I ask of my first complete "child".

"You lie," she hisses back in answer. I laugh and turn to Ella.

"Do I lie? Is what I just said not the truth?"

The blond doll shakes her head, saying, "Nope, it's all true. I saw it with my own eyes. Hachiko didn't want Vincent to hurt him any more 'cause he loves him!"

“I asked him why. I wanted to know what made him change, why he suddenly gave in. He said nothing as we stepped into the oversized tub. I asked him again when we were all settled and you know what he did?

...

His shoulders drop after my question; his eyes close.

"I don't know. I guess it's just easier to give in than it is to fight..."

I brush some of his damp hair out of his face. "There's more than just that, huh?" I ask. His cheeks flush again as he looks away.

"I... I guess... I like it... in a way..."

I pause, completely un-moving, surprised. Really, now, I ask myself, although I'm more surprised at his next move.

He carefully climbs into my lap, one leg on either side of my hips, and ever so gently, so timidly, he places his lips to mine in a delicate kiss. I open my mouth to him, letting him take control, and allow him to shyly probe my mouth. I suck softly on his tongue and place my hands on his hips.

I feel his hardening length against my stomach. No doubt he can feel mine under his rear. He rubs his hands against my water-slickened chest and belly, tracing fine muscles with his fingers. I moan softly and relax a little more in the water.

He breaks the kiss, pulling away as he grinds against me. My breath hitches and my head falls back against the lip of the tub. His lips attach themselves to my neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. Good God, this is wonderful. He bites at the crook of my neck, bruising the flesh and leaving his mark. It just makes me moan and wondrously hard. He continues to play with my body, gently massaging parts I didn't even know were sensitive, all while grinding our shafts together.

I pull him into another kiss, lifting his body up in order to get it. I think I like having a willing participant almost as much as an unwilling one. Almost.

His left hand migrates up to my shoulder while his right one slides down to grip my member, his chest pressed against mine. I groan into his mouth as he squeezes.

...

"Up until then," I tell my "daughter", "I was only mildly surprised at his actions. I still couldn't be quite sure if he was doing that only to make me happy so I'd stop..."

I flick one of the threads my Ella spun out of the oxygen molecules surrounding her and Nana hisses in pain as it bites into her flesh. I lean into her, my nose touching hers just barely. I grin at her, watching my reflection in her single violet eye. I stroke the eye patch covering the empty socket where the other one once resided.

"You wanna know what he did next?" I ask her. I don't wait for an answer, however. I just tell her, “He rode me, happily, and he wanted it. He wanted to. He wanted to, so he did, and he loved every moment of it. He let his body slide against mine, let me plunge into his tight self and moved of his own free will. His only tears came from his pleasure.”

Nana's eye widens in disbelief. If she could, I imagine she would have shaken her head. I smile.

"I... I don't believe you. I don't believe one word you said," she says in a panic. I laugh as she continues, "I... When I’m done kicking your ass, I'm dragging you straight to the cops and I'm going to tell them what you've told me, and you're going to be locked away, you sick bastard."

"But, Nana, dear, my daughter, you're no one. You don't exist. 'Nana Niwa' isn't a person, just like 'Hachiko Niwa' isn't a person. You're both just numbers, experiments. You're nothing more than rotting flesh given a new lease on life, no, on afterlife, and Hachiko? He's nothing more than an eyeball I've cultured into a new being."

Her eye spasms in anger. She knows what I said is true. She knows that she's made of a body I bought in the name of science; she knows that her being is slowly rotting, being held together only by the high level of iron infused into her flesh. She knows and she's jealous. Jealous because I'm a naturally born, living person, as is, to a point, her "brother" but she's just a bag of bones. I grin at her.

"You know, oh-oh-seven, I think..." I plunge my fingers into her eye socket again, the one still retaining an eye and squeeze. She screams. I pull, holding a popped jelly sack of tissue. She strains against the threads as Ella pulls them tighter and the slice through her tight fitting clothes and her pale, silken skin.

"… red is really more your colour."

I let what was once her eye drop to the floor and turn towards Ella.

"You can let her down now, dear. She's not going anywhere soon."

The blond girl-being nods and the strings disappear. Nana collapses in a heap, still howling in pain. I drop into a squat next to her as she clutches her face. Gently, I rub her shoulder in a fatherly way, telling her, "Red is a much better color for you, Nana. It complements your skin and hair much better than purple."

XxX

Er… yes. I should get back to working on the things I should be… but I don’ wanna… oAo

And, before I forget, I wanna thank everyone who has faved or watched this in the past three months… I’ve seriously gone up from about thirty favs and fourty-something alerts to 46 favs and 51 alerts… It makes me so happy :heart: so many fans :heartheart: