Rebelious

Michael was in the top of the building again painting, when he called for Eva. “Tell Ken that I want him to join me for dinner, alone. I need to have… another talk with him.” She turned and left silently.

“Yes?” Ken appeared out of no where but it didn’t faze Michael.

“You are wandering again. Straying from my, heh, heh, gentle, hands.”

“You mean you are losing control of me.” Michael set his paint brush down. He was disgusted already.

“You need to learn you place again.”

“You know it won’t do much good.” At that Michael was so aggravated he walked over and slapped Ken across the face.

“I can’t feel much anymore.” He was taunting him, trying to do his worst. He was slapped again. “Are you having fun?” And again. “If you want to put me in my place you should try a little ha...” And again, but this time, his lip was cut. Michael paused.

“Hesita…”

“Shut up! Who owns who?”

“Why Michael, you know you own me.” He let the blood slide down his chin. He wanted to make him want. “I know you own me. So what are you going to do about it?”

“I will teach you a lesson!” With that he grabbed Ken by the throat and pulled him to the bedroom. He threw him on the bed. “You are mine!”

He got on top of him and straddled him at the waist. While holding Ken’s wrists down Michael began to kiss his red and bloody lips, savoring the forbidden flavor. Ken’s lips met his with equal passion. Ken’s resolve always fell to the wayside when Michael was making Ken his own.