Hey guys, it's me, Hana. I haven't posted up a oneshot in a while, and I've never ever written a lemon before, so I apologize in advance if it sucks -___-. Anyways, if anyone thinks there should be at least an aftermath, just tell me in the review. Enjoy!
Note: Rated M for disturbing sequences, explicit sexual content, and girls with psychological issues.
Mommy, it's so cold in here. So cold and dark. Mommy, can I go home now?
She stretched out her hands towards the dark, dim ceiling, waiting for someone to gather up her thin, pale body and take her home. Somewhere nice and warm. She hadn't been home for a while now. How long was it since she had last seen Mommy? When was she ever going to take her home? She had been a good girl, and had waited patiently for the last...how long has she been here? Ah, she lost track at day twenty-two hundred and ninety-six.
The frail girl slowly rose from her tattered, worn bed and staggered towards the door of her room. They said it was night-night time for her, but she wasn't sleepy. She wanted someone to play with her. She ran a rather white hand through her tangled, matted raven waves as steely grey eyes searched the room intently, looking for the one person who never left her. Ah, there he was. Poor little thing, rammed inbetween two wooden shafts, all for the sake of keeping safe from the mean men in white. The girl gently took him in her arms, his black button eyes staring back at her coolly, the smile sloppily stitched across his brown cloth face greeting her pleasantly. Emmy...I was so scared, why did you leave me?
Emma pouted innocently, gingerly carrasing the red string hair swaying lazily in the air. The mean doctors said that they were going to take you away. I had to put you somewhere. She wasn't sure why, but every time she talked to Booboo, her gray, thin lips never moved. Their minds were connected, she knew; he knew how she was feeling, what made her feel better, even what she was thinking. It never unnerved her though. In fact, the pale little girl would not have any other way.
When did she start talking to Booboo? Possibly when she was younger, and Mommy didn't allow her to go outside and play. Emma fell back towards the old cot, the springs pressing against her back familiarly. Mommy never let her do anything. She never even let her get out of the house! The then four-year old girl would have to resort peeking through broken blinds and watch the other children play. They laughed and giggled and cried. Together, with other people...that fact caused her to feel undoubtedly jealous, a whirl of envy boiling in her stomach. Why can't I have a friend? she often wondered.
And then, she found him.
He was torn pretty badly, from what Emma could see. His button eyes were barely hanging by a string, and his cotton stuffing seemed to pop out of every stitch. But no matter. She could fix him, she knew she could. And she did, clumsily repairing the multiple tearings, pricking her fingers multiple times as she carefully tried sow the arm back together. To any other person, one glance to the doll would have left a shiver down their spine. But to Emma, he was perfect.
He talked to her often, filling in the empty void in her heart. Booboo, as she fondly named him, told her of the many things he had seen in his short fabricated life: about the little girl who dropped him as she was dragged away by a mean man, the cruel boy who tore him apart for fun, all the way to the child who forgot him in the mud as she ran back to her home.
Don't worry Booboo, I'll never, ever, leave you.
And for the next two years, she never did. She no longer felt the strong jealousy burn in her heart; instead, she happily made friends with the pretty doll. Her mommy never asked questions, only observed her cynically through drugged-up eyes. And so, their lives in the run-down shack was relatively quiet. Until, that day.
But that was almost ten years ago. Right now, Emma needed to find a way to get back home. Maybe not to Mommy; she was sometimes mean to her, but away from the scary men in white and the sharp needles that regularly entered her sickly flesh. Closing her eyes, the short-haired girl danced aimlessly across the small, dark room, relishing the damp air against her skin, imagining being out of the asylum and making pretty pictures with her special knife.
Suddenly, the sound of muffled voices echoed across the hall, steadily becoming closer. Knowing she would be sedated if she were not found in her bed, Emma dove under the sheets, squeezing her eyes shut, clutching Booboo against her small chest. The voices grew louder and more distinct, finally stopping near her cell door.
"Well, here we are, room 208." The jangle of keys unlocking a door was heard.
"Bill, are ya sure that he's supposed to stay there?" another voice whispered with concern. "I mean, he's right next to that crazy chick."
The other man snorted. "Tim, this is a nut-house. Ev'rybody's crazy. Besides, what can she do? She pretty sedated right now."
Tim sighed. "A'right, whatever ya say. Any objections son?"
Bill laughed. "Ya don't talk much, do'ya kid?" he said with mock concern. "Well, I guess seein' the stuff yous did would make anybody canatonic or whatever its called."
"Don't mock the patients!" Tim scolded. "That's just rude."
Emma could only imagine Bill rolling his eyes. "Kid, I've been here for years. I've been spit at, clawed at, even bitten. They don't care."
Tim sighed once more. "A'right Bill. Let's just get the boy in here and get the hell out of here." A shiver. "This place give me the creeps."
A shuffle of footsteps, the clanging of the cell door, and the retreating steps of the two guards. Silence. Emma opened her eyes and glanced over to the wall that separated her from the occupant of the room next door. I wonder who he is, she thought to herself. Will he be my friend? The soft pitter-patter of her tiny feet against the cold floor as she crept towards the wall, her small hands feeling through the darkness. Finally, she found what she was looking for; a small hole in the otherwise perfectly made structure. Slowly, she knelt down, peeking through the little opening, waiting to see something.
Sure enough, the dark sillhouete of a tall, slender body soon entered her field of vision. Emma squinted her large, black eyes, trying to gain a better view of the mysterious boy. Slowly, her vision began to adjust to the surrounding darkness, the boy's once hidden features slowly becoming more distinct. She could tell, by the thin streams of moonlight shimmering through the small window, that he had somewhat pale white skin, and the only mark on the otherwise flawless skin was a tattoo of a white wolf right above his navel. Ah, yes, he was half naked, and never in her life had Emma found such a beautiful creature as he.
His long, black hair, though filled with knots and obviously unkept, fell upon his thin shoulders, barely reaching the nape of his neck. It was rather dark, with the exception of a red streak of hair that fell upon one of his dull, baby blue eyes rather sensually. Such beautiful parted pink lips, such a delicious looking slender, pale neck...the schizophrenic girl could only watch in awe as he pulled off tight, black jeans, revealing a perfectly scuplted pair of long, rather feminine legs. He...made her feel...quite odd. She had felt many things in her sixteen years of existance: fear, anger, rage, sadness, and, occasionally, happiness, but this...this was different. She felt somewhat uncomfortable between the legs; in fact, it scared her. Scampering away from the peeping hole, the childish girl dove into her bed, shutting her eyes tightly, trying to forget the unwanted feeling.
"Okay Emma, its time for your medicine," the kind nurse cooed, gently brushing a strand of jet black hair away from the sickly pale face. The silent girl allowed her to place a small cup in her palm, containing the dreaded pill that Emma hated so. But it was no matter; this was a nice lady. In fact, Nurse Annie was the only person whom the small girl trusted, or even liked for that matter, in the entire place. She was never mean to her, and would sometimes even fix up her dolly for her. She said that she was her friend, and Emma liked that a lot. She didn't have many friends, so Nurse Annie was definitely the nicest person in the whole world!
The brunette woman waited patiently as Emma gingerly placed the medication inside her small mouth, swallowing, looking up into the nurse's hazel eyes innocently. A small chuckle escaped the older female's lips. "Now now Emma, I know all your tricks," she teased her, brushing her hair fondly. "Swallow it for real!"
Emma sighed and swallowed the damned thing. It tasted horrible. She didn't want it inside her. That would mean that the mean doctors in white had gotten their way, and she was not one to easily give in. Nurse Annie, content with Emma's submission, patted the patient's head lightly and walked away. She waited silently, watching the figure retreat into the crowded halls of Boggland Institution for the Criminally Insane. Once she was gone, Emma immediately, almost brutally, slammed her finger down her throat, forcing herself to cough up the hated item. Ripping a small hole inside Booboo's head, she hid the pill inside the stuffing, quickly covering it up. Nonchalantly, she got up and skipped down the hall towards the cafeteria. It was lunchtime, after all.
Though she was locked in a prison-like sanitarium, Emma was experiencing a fresh draft of freedom that had been denied to her for almost ten whole years. When her Mommy had first sent her there, they made her stay in a dark room all alone for days...they would ask her question after question...they never ever let her go out. Now, she was allowed to go with the other inmates to eat, walk around outside during breaktime, even talk to other people. Not that she did the latter, anyways.
Silently she entered the mobbed cafeteria, ignoring the other patients, approaching her favorite isolated table. Though she was one of the youngest occupants of the institution, she was also one of the most unstable. It made her sad...she never made any friends, because they were all mad at her or something. No matter though, Booboo was all she needed; he kept her company, he talked to her, and he always stayed near her. Though, by the looks of it, it seemed as if the table was not so isolated today.
It was him. The beautiful boy who occupied the room next to her. The boy who made her feel so weird inside. She felt as if her blood froze inside her veins. He was silently eating his food, his dark hair covering his face as he slumped over the table. Emma took a deep breath. Maybe...this boy could be her friend? Booboo hadn't said anything mean about him yet, so maybe he was a good boy? She took a step towards him. Hearing the soft pitter-patter of footsteps, the person lifted his baby blue eyes towards her pitless black orbs.
Her heart stopped, her mouth went dry, and that damned sensation in the middle of her legs was causing all sorts of chaos. Emmy, what's wrong? She heard Booboo whisper to her. She clutched the doll close to her chest. He's...so...pretty. He makes me feel weird. Should I try to be his friend?
The doll was silent for some time, before it spoke back to her. Emmy, maybe he's a good boy. I don't think he'll be mean to us. But if he does hurt us, we'll hurt him too. We'll make him cry.
Emma nodded silently. Okay, I'll go talk to him. Gathering up her courage, for she was a rather shy girl, the short girl nervously took a seat in front of the boy. His eyes had never left hers, and as she began to slowly chew on her food, his slouched position slowly began to straighten. She avoided his curious gaze, wondering why he was making her feel so...odd. Squeezing Booboo tightly, she silently searched for the right words to say. "...H...h-hi..." she sputtered out, still looking straight down.
The boy said nothing, only stared at her intensely. Emma felt her heart beating faster and faster by the minute. Why wasn't he talking to her? Did she scare him? Was he being a meanie? Was she not pretty? She was pretty girl, a good girl, why didn't he like her? A tear fell down her cheek. To many, this would have seemed childish...but that was just how she was. A childish girl.
"You're a meanie!" she shouted. The boy's eyes widened in confusion as he watched her run away. "W...ait.." he wheezed out. The crying girl stopped and turned around slowly. His voice seemed raspy, but...pretty. She sniffed and wiped away a stray tear. The boy seemed surprised with himself, rubbing his throat thoughtfully. Emma shyly sat back down, scrutinizing his every feature. Maybe...he wasn't a meanie? Hopefully he wasn't.
"I'm s-sorry," the raven-haired boy rasped out. "I...haven't t-talked in a few w-week-ks. I-It kinda hur-rts."
Emma blushed at the thought that he was talking to her. "It's okay...um, what's your name? You're pretty."
The boy turned bright red and immediately looked downward. "T-Thank you. Er, Dosko. Dosko V-Vanders."
Dosko. Pretty name.
He's a nice boy Emmy. Maybe he'll like me
Emma smiled at the thought. "I'm Emma, um, I think my last name is Chesko, but everyone calls me Emma. Except for Booboo. He's special cuz he calls me Emmy."
Dosko tilted his head in interest. This girl...she was so...childish. So seemingly innocent and ignorant of the world around her. Adorable, in fact, in a dark, kind of creepy sort of way, but still. Emma, though obviously unstable, seemed like a nice girl. She glanced at him nervously. "W-would you like to meet Booboo?" she asked.
The taller person gave a small smile. And to think he found a remotely sane person in this hellhole! "Sure," he said. "I'd like to meet Booboo."
Excited by the idea that she may have found a friend, she proudly presented her beloved doll. "This is Booboo," she rambled excitedly. "He's my bestest friend in the whole wide world, and we talk, and he always keeps me from being lonely. Say hi Booboo!" Emma grabbed one of the doll's stuffed arms and waved it enthusiastically.
They boy's face completely drained of color. That...thing... he had no idea why, but the rag-doll ran shivers down his spine. Its black, button eyes seemed to stare down into his very soul, the sloppily stitched smile seemed maliciously giddy. Dosko felt wave after wave of terror and horror hit against him; he had the powerful urge to run away, but then he looked at Emma. She seemed so hopeful, the seemingly blank eyes were suddenly full of light and happiness. And deep down inside, he knew he would hurt her deeply if he did not play along.
"H-hello B-booboo," Dosko managed to sputter out with a weak smile. "N-nice to meet you."
Emma's black eyes widened in joy, a large smile creeping on her thin lips. "Friend!" she yelled happily, jumping across the table and attacking the tall, handsome boy in a tight hug. The brunette, taken aback by the strange girl's actions, lost his balance, letting out a small yelp as he plummeted to the ground. Scrunching his face in pain, he opened his eyes, only to meet two wide ones looking straight back him. Suddenly Dosko became extremely aware of the position they were in. Her thin, frail legs were on either side of him, her white scrub riding up a bit, revealing her scarred thigh. Her small, supple breasts were pressing against his chest rather firmly, and her tiny hands were innocently lingering just above his loose hospital pants. He barely held in a breathy moan as she sat up curiously. She was so naive, so unaware of the world around her. She probably didn't know how sensual she was being right now. Of course, from the looks of it, she probably lived in this shithole for the majority of her life. Her eyes may have been full of childish innocence, but they also held a level of unstable insanity that could send chills down any man's spines.
Emma got off of him rather quickly; the feeling inbetween her legs was returning and it was stronger than ever before. Was it punishment for spying on him at night? Was it good? Was it bad? Maybe if she talked to him and was nice to him, the weird feeling would go away. Looking around discreetly, Emma grabbed his hand and ran off to her room, easily avoiding the supervisors. They were too busy sleeping anyways.
The black-haired boy's heart began to beat faster by the minute. Where was she taking him? To her room? But...to do what? Surely not to do that, right? A lump formed in his throat at the thought. Finally, they approached her room, which he noticed was right next to him. That had to be a coincidence, right?
Emma looked around nervously before opening the door and slamming it shut. The room was dark, dank, and small, but she didn't care at the moment. She pushed a nervous and confused boy onto the bed and sat next to him. There was an awkward silence as a shocked and confused Dosko tried to comprehend what was going on. He looked at her, and became increasingly uncomfortable under her intent stare. Was she waiting for something?
She looked away after a moment. "Um, so, why are you here?" she asked shyly, her head slumped towards the ground. Dosko blinked before sighing heavily.
"I...witnessed a murder." he muttered. Emma cocked her head in confusion. "You mean, you saw a bad man kill somebody?" she asked.
He cracked a small smile. "Yeah, that. But...I kinda lost it and attacked the policeman who was trying to get me out of the house."
"You were in the house with the mean man?"
Dosko hesitated and looked away. "Y-yes. Um, it was just my mom and me...and somehow that damned son of a bitch of a dad got in and stabbed her to death. He c-couldn't find me-haha-I...I was hiding....ha...hahaha..."
Emma watched curiously as the boy next to her began to hyperventilate quite heavily. "That's sad," she said with a pout. "Mommies are always nice. I know I miss mine."
Dosko regained his composure only to look at his companion curiously. "...how long have you been in here anyways?" he asked cautiously. Her dark eyes flickered towards him rapidly. "Um...I lost count, but I think maybe ten years?"
"....What exactly did you do?" He didn't want to ask, he really didn't, but his curiosity was slowly picking away at him. She gave a childish, yet somehow sinister smile. "I made pretty pictures."
Blood drained away from his face rapidly. "Wh-what do you mean?" the dark-haired boy asked gingerly, not really wanting to know the answer.
"I tried to make a friend with a boy. He was being mean to me. He threw rocks at me. So I took out my favorite knife and I carved pretty pictures into his body. It was really nice, the color and all." She smiled at the thought. "But then my Mommy told me that what I did was bad. So, she said she was going to send me to a special place. And this was the place, I don't know why it's so special though. It's scary actually."
The brunette boy swallowed hard. "You're....you're..."
Emma tilted her head in confusion, crawling towards him. "I'm what?" she asked, her wide black eyes looking straight at him. She was doing it again. Pale legs on each side of him, breasts pressed against him. This...this...psychopath was torturing him without even knowing it. Did she even notice the increasingly painful arousal grinding against her thighs?
The small girl stopped. It was that funny feeling again. Was she doing something wrong? She thought the punishment would go away! Shifting her weight, she suddenly felt a pleasurable feeling overlap her. What was going on? Curiously, she repeated the motion again. It...felt...good.
Suddenly feeling weak at the knees, Emma fell ontop of the aroused boy, only managing to get up just a little bit, leaning her face against his. Dosko's breathing was getting heavier...her pouting lips were so close, so deliciously close...oh what he would do just to get a taste of her. She was repeatedly grinding against him, driving closer, and closer, to the limit. Until, he couldn't take it anymore.
Grabbing her small frame, he kissed her fiercely, moving his lips sensually against hers, entering his tongue inside her hot mouth, roaming inside of it, tasting her everywhere he could. Emma couldn't help but let out a small moan; she had never been kissed before, in fact, she had never been touched by a male. But it felt really, really good. The feeling between her legs was becoming stronger; she was feeling herself becoming wet. Was that normal? At the moment, she didn't really care. All she wanted was to make this boy hers.
She let out a groan as she felt his tongue being dragged down her neck, biting, sucking, kissing her there. A hand made its way up her over-sized scrub, gently rubbing her back, lingering over her stomach, finally touching her breasts. A small squeak escaped her lips as she felt fingers gingerly playing with her small nipples, making her body rock up and down in excitement. She didn't know what he was doing, she didn't know what she was doing, all she knew was that something overcame her, something made her need to touch him.
She pushed him down onto the bed, fiercely kissing him, ripping his shirt off his body, exploring his beautiful pale body. Her small hands caressed every crevice, massaged every curve, the small, fragile noises that were echoing out of him were making her feel hotter than ever. Dosko leaned back weakly as he watched her start kissing him places no one had even touched before. Her little kitten tongue was sensually massaging his skin, licking his sweaty neck, sucking on his aroused nipples. Her thin lips traveled downwards at an achingly slow pace, paying attention to every detail of his body, nibbling at the navel. Finally she approached the growing bulge in pants; what was that, she wondered. Curiously, she started rubbing it gently, and the begging, pleading, moans that he gasped out told her that it was a truly sensitive area. Slowly, she peeled off the scrubs, revealing his pulsing, painfully aroused erection. It...was mouth-watering. Slowly she began to take it into her mouth, licking the sides, sucking the head sensually.
"Oh..oh my God," Dosko managed to gasp out. "W...we shouldn't be doing this."
Emma looked up with a small smile. "But whyyyy?" she cooed. "I'm having fun. Isn't that right Booboo?"
Dosko managed to turn around, only to see the dreaded doll sitting on a shelf, staring straight back at him. It unnerved him that it was "watching" them, but, at the moment, he somehow forgot to care. All he could think about was Emma's tiny mouth sucking at him gently, her tongue massaging the shaft, licking up his fluids. This was probably her first time, as it was his, but...it was so damned good. In the heat of the moment, as he switched positions and began to kiss her stomach, he forgot how much she scared him. In fact, he was beginning to become just a bit attracted to her. Okay, so he thought she was adorable from the moment he saw her; but this....this was incredible. Suddenly he let out a soft moan as he felt fingers enter his backside. He sat on top of her, riding her fingers, the pleasure hitting him again and again. He had always known that he wanted to be the one to be fucked, but he never thought that it would feel this good. He drifted his lust-filled eyes towards the girl below him, the sadistically malicious smile that creased her face only turned him on more.
Emma suddenly realized what power she was holding; she could control him at her every whim. And just the way he was moving, it was so mystifying. His pink lips were parted in ecstasy, his eyes closed, his body writhing around her fingers in pleasure. His thin, slender form was moving around sensually, his arousal begging for attention; each leg pressed up against her sides, becoming stiff as she felt her own arousal become hotter. Slowly, she pulled out of his backside, grinning as she witnessed his expression morph from pleasure to one of confusion. Slowly, she leaned up against him, her naked breasts rubbing against his firm, tight chest.
"You look sad. Is there something you want me to do?" she asked in her childish voice, cocking her head to the side innocently. Dosko tried to regain his composure, trying to ignore the adorable, yet sensual expression on the psychopath's face. "Y...yes..." he breathed out. He shuddered as he felt a finger lightly trace down his spine, drawing circles daringly. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.
"I...need...t-to fuck you," Dosko gasped out. A finger slammed into him, painfully, but at the same time pleasurably. "What do you mean?" Emma asked, confused. "What does fuck mean?"
Dosko smiled fondly, even in the middle of the rather sexual escapade. "You're so fucking adorable," he breathed out before roaming his tongue all over her body. The strange girl bit her lip as she felt his tongue fondle her nipples, nipping and sucking at them. "Aah...ahhhhh...." she sputtered. The brunette boy felt his erection become even more painful at the sound of her moaning. He moved down rather quickly, tasting her flesh, pulling down her underwear and taking in her juices. Emma's eyes shot wide open and she screamed in pleasure. This feeling, she had never ever been touched there before. A sudden wave of ecstasy reached her again and again, each time his tongue massaged her clit, probed at her opening, tasted her fluids; she was confused beyond comprehension.
She slammed him down against the bed once more, somewhat irritated that the power she had over him had temporarily faded away. "You're mine," she told him, her eyes narrowed into dark slits. "You're my toy now. You're my friend too, but I like playing like this alot." She grabbed something from under her pillow, and Dosko's eyes widened in terror as he watched her wield a small hunting knife. "P-please, I'm your toy, you can do whatever you like, just please, don't kill me!"
Emma blinked, then gave a cute chuckle. "Oh, no, I wasn't gonna kill you. I'm not a bad girl anymore. I'm good. It's just that," Dosko's mouth went dry as he saw the blade rest gently on his side "Mommy always told me to write my name on my toys."
A deep sense of agonizing pain filled his very veins as the slender boy felt the knife dig into him slightly, dragging along, forming a bloody E, than an M, another M, and so on and so forth. The cuts weren't deep, but he knew that the scars would be there for the rest of his life. She probably knew that too. The sinister smile on her face told him that just fine. Finally she finished, clapping her hands in delight. "See, now my name's on my toy! Isn't it pretty?"
Dosko couldn't answer; he was still in shock of what just happened. Emma looked at him and pouted. "What, do you not like it? Oh, it's a little messy, let me clean it up." And clean it up she did, licking up the bloody mess that was all over his side. Dosko bit his lip as he tried to fight the painful, and strangely pleasurable, sensation. Finally, she finished. "See, all clean now."
He only stared at her as she climbed on top of him and slowly lowered herself onto his fully aroused erection. A feeble whimper escaped his lips as Emma fought her own tears and focused only on the pleasure. Dosko began to breathe harder, her hot, tight walls rubbing furiously against him, his pulsing arousal pulling in and out of her small body. Emma sighed in pleasure as she took in the foreign, but much accepted feeling. His small whimpers, his frail moans, his soft begs, all gave her the sense of power and dominance that she loved so much. Suddenly, she noticed something was coming. She wasn't sure whether it was good or bad, but she felt as if she needed to get closer to it. He was feeling the same thing; his dick being milked so furiously, her hands roaming around him, her fingers entering his backside at times, he knew he was going to come. He began to thrust harder into her tiny frame, whimpering and moaning her name. She may be a deranged sociopath, but she...was perfect, to him.
Emma's eyes shot wide open as a sense of release and satisfaction overrode her body, her legs twitching, her chest convulsing as it swept through her again, and again, and again. Not so long after, Dosko's desperate expression changed into one of pleasurable climax, sending his seed inside her body. He felt so good; he had touched himself before, of course, but this....this was ridiculously overpowering.
As he collapsed onto the sweaty pillow he only watched as Emma grabbed her doll and rubbed it against her cheek fondly. "Emma found her friend, Booboo," she cooed softly. "He's beautiful, and pretty, and likes to play with me. We'll be together forever."
And as Dosko glanced over at the the freshly carved name, he knew that she meant it. And somehow, obsession seemed to him the purest of love there was.