Guilty Pleasure
folder
+S to Z › Shaman King
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
7,184
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S to Z › Shaman King
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
7,184
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Shaman King, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Guilty Pleasure
Disclaimer: If I owned Shaman King, shit like this would really happen. So.
He looks back at the darkened room, his eyes flickering over his roommates. He creeps outside and heads through the sandy streets. He leaves the town, heads out towards what appears to be deserted desert. He knows he’s a fool for going, he knows it’s wrong to return night after night, he knows just what venom lurks behind those welcoming arms.
There is a noise behind him, a soft chuckle. He turns and is face to face with whom he seeks. It’s almost like looking into a mirror. The same dark eyes, the same brown locks, the only differences being their clothes and hair length.
His twin smirks at him, amused by the obvious weakness, by his constant returns. Nevertheless, his arms are welcoming. Before he realizes it, they encompass him. That warm mouth is on his throat. Those soft purrs are thrumming against his skin. He gives himself in.
His twin’s mouth plunders his own. He moans helplessly, though his control is given up willingly. Clothes begin to vanish as if by magic. Hands make swift work of any and all cover. They roam gently over his soft flesh. The gentle touch takes a turn for the darker side as nails are introduced. He winces as they dig into his thighs. The pain courses through him and he groans into his twin’s ear. This receives another beautiful smirk.
Every night is the same thing. He has many scars on his thighs, his shoulders, his chest. But he keeps coming back. The pain is intoxicating. He would never admit it, but he loves the feel of it. He loves the sight of the crescent moons of blood left by those torturous nails, the bruises and bite marks left by those brutal teeth.
He is already hard. A hand wraps around his shaft as the other twists his arms above his head. He is pinned; he loves it. The hand around his erection strokes him roughly, nails tracing along the length. He moans and arches into the touch. Chuckling, his twin releases him and moves into position. He never bothers to stretch him, preferring instead to hear those cries of pain.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
His twin is inside him with one, harsh thrust. He screams, the pain intense. It feels as though he’s being ripped in two. There is a moment of no movement. This one kindness is granted to him. It is enough.
The thrusting begins, his beautiful twin moving in and out of him at a rapid pace. Pain and pleasure rack his body and he cries out loudly. He screams his lover’s name. The movements become jerkier, his twin’s calm smirk falters as he begins to lose himself in the moment.
This is what he loves most, when all control is lost and all that is left is the two of them desperately moving against one another. The thrusting becomes particularly rough and with his last intelligible thought he realizes that he won’t be able to sit in the morning.
Pain and pleasure become one as light explodes behind his eyes. Amazing waves of feeling course through his body and he releases himself onto their bare bodies. Moments later he is filled with the essence of his lover.
They lay there, panting, covered in sweat and seed. His twin bites his collarbone roughly, his way of marking the smaller as his own. He groans quietly as he sees the blood on his chest.
After a long moment, his twin pulls out of him and climbs to his feet. “You are mine,” he purrs. “Don’t forget it.” With that, he dresses and leaves as mysteriously as he came.
He won’t forget, he is sure. He will be back tomorrow night, and the night after. He will always return for that sinful pleasure, for that delicious pain. And his twin will be more than happy to oblige.
He dresses and limps back to where he is staying. He looks guiltily at his friends. They will never know about his midnight rendezvous. They will never know about his guilty pleasure.
~FIN~
He looks back at the darkened room, his eyes flickering over his roommates. He creeps outside and heads through the sandy streets. He leaves the town, heads out towards what appears to be deserted desert. He knows he’s a fool for going, he knows it’s wrong to return night after night, he knows just what venom lurks behind those welcoming arms.
There is a noise behind him, a soft chuckle. He turns and is face to face with whom he seeks. It’s almost like looking into a mirror. The same dark eyes, the same brown locks, the only differences being their clothes and hair length.
His twin smirks at him, amused by the obvious weakness, by his constant returns. Nevertheless, his arms are welcoming. Before he realizes it, they encompass him. That warm mouth is on his throat. Those soft purrs are thrumming against his skin. He gives himself in.
His twin’s mouth plunders his own. He moans helplessly, though his control is given up willingly. Clothes begin to vanish as if by magic. Hands make swift work of any and all cover. They roam gently over his soft flesh. The gentle touch takes a turn for the darker side as nails are introduced. He winces as they dig into his thighs. The pain courses through him and he groans into his twin’s ear. This receives another beautiful smirk.
Every night is the same thing. He has many scars on his thighs, his shoulders, his chest. But he keeps coming back. The pain is intoxicating. He would never admit it, but he loves the feel of it. He loves the sight of the crescent moons of blood left by those torturous nails, the bruises and bite marks left by those brutal teeth.
He is already hard. A hand wraps around his shaft as the other twists his arms above his head. He is pinned; he loves it. The hand around his erection strokes him roughly, nails tracing along the length. He moans and arches into the touch. Chuckling, his twin releases him and moves into position. He never bothers to stretch him, preferring instead to hear those cries of pain.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
His twin is inside him with one, harsh thrust. He screams, the pain intense. It feels as though he’s being ripped in two. There is a moment of no movement. This one kindness is granted to him. It is enough.
The thrusting begins, his beautiful twin moving in and out of him at a rapid pace. Pain and pleasure rack his body and he cries out loudly. He screams his lover’s name. The movements become jerkier, his twin’s calm smirk falters as he begins to lose himself in the moment.
This is what he loves most, when all control is lost and all that is left is the two of them desperately moving against one another. The thrusting becomes particularly rough and with his last intelligible thought he realizes that he won’t be able to sit in the morning.
Pain and pleasure become one as light explodes behind his eyes. Amazing waves of feeling course through his body and he releases himself onto their bare bodies. Moments later he is filled with the essence of his lover.
They lay there, panting, covered in sweat and seed. His twin bites his collarbone roughly, his way of marking the smaller as his own. He groans quietly as he sees the blood on his chest.
After a long moment, his twin pulls out of him and climbs to his feet. “You are mine,” he purrs. “Don’t forget it.” With that, he dresses and leaves as mysteriously as he came.
He won’t forget, he is sure. He will be back tomorrow night, and the night after. He will always return for that sinful pleasure, for that delicious pain. And his twin will be more than happy to oblige.
He dresses and limps back to where he is staying. He looks guiltily at his friends. They will never know about his midnight rendezvous. They will never know about his guilty pleasure.
~FIN~