EmoFic

EmoFic
Written by Strife Zubia and Posted with Express Permission


The woods were thick, and with the sun having just set, they were dark even around the hearty campfire burning away in the small clearing. There wasn't a tent set up in the clearing, though it was more than large enough to support at least one; this particular Tamer vastly prefered sleeping 'under the stars' in sleeping bags, especially since the weather was the sort of nice, warm, arid weather that allowed for that sort of thing. The first figure sitting beside the fire was the larger of the two in that he had a wider build than the second, who's frame would at first suggest a very fey female. With short-cut hair and stubble growing over his chin, Strife stared intently at the small block of wood he carefully carved at with the sharp, glinting steel in his hand. The thin straight-razor would never cut through the wood fully, and if it did ever carve out what he expected it to, it would never last long, but that was fine; he was out to dull the blade, not actually carve the block of wood into any distinct shape... though he imagined he would get there eventually, at the rate his partner was producing the razors.

"You're an asshole." The second figure said glumly from across the fire, staring into the blaze with sullen eyes; his hair was as dark as his Master's, though much longer, reaching past his chin to rest along his shoulders when he bothered sitting up straight. Unlike his Master, the boy's face was as smooth as the day he was born, and equally as soft, though the boy would never dare let his Master say so.

"Cry more." The jibe was given jokingly, though the boy chose to take it as an order and deepend his pout, making Strife's lips spread in a wider grin. "Look, Perry, I told you that you weren't allowed to have these-"

"That isn't my name." The Emo said with a mope, letting his Master know that he'd heard this speech before and he wasn't about to listen to it again.

"Funny, I've known you for about two years now, and I've been calling you Perry since day one."

"I've decided its different."

"Oh yeah? I remember you've tried to decide that before. Remember, Perry, I won't call you anything involving the words 'Raven', 'Blood', 'Dark', 'Lord', or any of that other silly shit."

"Lord wasn't on the list last time." The sullen boy's pout somehow deepened even further, and Strife gave a barking laugh.

"Yeah, well, the list has to change if I'm going to keep you with a sane name."

"Its my firm belief that Perry is not a sane name."

"Good thing your opinion doesn't matter then, huh?"

"Bastard."

"Baaaw." The deep sigh Perry let out wasn't the first nor would it be the last of it's kind; Strife and Perry had reached a sort of understanding regarding how these exchanges went and what they really meant. Perry continued to watch as his master dulled the blade against the block of wood and sighed again, his hands wringing in one another's palms; he wore a sleeveless black vest over a longsleeve black T, and his hands were covered in fingerless black gloves, into which Perry had slit four cuts over his knuckles to bare them. Strife had let the boy choose his own clothes, at least, and the boy was thankful for that much. However, it was driving him mad that his Master somehow kept taking his razors without Perry ever seeing him do it, and most importantly, before Perry could use them. The boy hadn't 'cut' in nearly a year, and it was boring into his brain as a rage against his natural tendencies. Licking his lips, Perry looked up and over the fire, staring briefly at his Master, still carving away at the wood.

"I hate you." The boy muttered blandly, and took a soft, silent breath as his right hand slid to his left in order to slightly unroll the wrist of the glove, from which Perry palmed his last razor; after a year, he'd finally managed to scare up two blades, one to be caught, the other to be used while his Master was distracted. Gulping down a bit of saliva, Perry silently slid down his left sleeve, baring his marble-white skin under the light of the fire. Licking his lips again, the boy brought his right hand up, a finger hiding the razor from sight as he brought the tip of the edge to rest against his wrist- and yelped as a shadow flew over the fire, lashing out with his right hand as Strife dove through the flames to tackle his boy off the log he sat on and to the ground. "Fuck you, you son of a bi-"

Perry was silenced by a hard slap to the cheek, his eyes shooting wide open in shock as the sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the air over the crackling fire; as the shock of the hit slipped away, Perry became aware of the smell of acrid, smoldering cloth and the hot feel of something dribbling down and onto his cheek. Turning his head, he saw first the look of anger burning in his Master's eyes before his eyes slid up to see the long, paper-thin line of red just over his Master's right eye, from which a small droplet of blood occasionally fell to Perry's face. He was brought out of his reverie when Strife, holding both Perry's hands by the wrists now, pressed his thumbs into the boy's lithe wrists before slamming his hands into the ground, making the boy cry out loudly, his hands opening wide upon impact, sending the razor flying off. The boy stumbled with his words for a moment, his eyes beginning to tear up before he was again silenced by his Master, this time with a deep, rough kiss.

Strife's hands maneuvered Perry's so they stretched far above his head, the Emo whimpering gently as Strife used his left hand to roughly press Perry's hands together into the ground, freeing his own right hand to reach up and sieze the dropped razor. Perry gasped in renewed pain as Strife levered himself upward, straddling Perry's hips as his arm shoved his dainty hands into the dirt, his knuckles scraping through the glove into the twig-strewn ground as Strife's right hand slid into the boy's shirt, moving up to the neck. Perry's questioning eyes were answered as the sound of cloth being cut from within, the glinting steel poking through the neck of the shirts and sliding downward.

Perry hissed slightly as his porcelaine white skin was bared to the chilly air, his fey, scrawny chest heaving slightly as he took deep breaths to try and steady his heart. His hiss gave way to a gasping moan as Strife brought the razor to bare, pressing the cold steel against the boy's small chest, the flat side dragging along the flesh to caress his nipple, making him whimper weakly.

"You little brat. I told you no more of these."

"S-suck my di-eeep!" Perry yelped as his hands were squeezed even harder, making him squirm and whimper in pain. "St-stop it!"

"Oh, now the pain is bad? But I thought that's what you needed the razor for; for the pain. What happened?"

"F-fuck you!" Perry was practically sniffling by this point, his body and mind torn as he was teased with the cold steel on bare skin and tortured with the pain in his hands. Strife again shut the boy up with a deep kiss, his hand dragging the cold metal down the boy's flat, tight abdomen to his impossibly tight pants, which he easily undid and began to lower, revealing the Emo's hard prick barely contained by a pair of black lace panties, the black denim pants being forced down his scrawny legs almost too easily.

"Rock hard. You filthy slut." Perry couldn't even begin to respond, whimpering and writhing beneath his Master, gasping heavily as the cold razor slid along his thighs, raising goosebumps. "I have to know where you get these things; so cold... its not natural." Strife practically purred as he brought the sharp edge to bare again, the sound of the sharp blade splitting fine fabric filling the air as Perry's bits and pieces became bare in the fire light. Before the boy could even begin to respond, the cold razor returned to bare flesh, the cold metal caressing Perry's balls slowly enough to make the boy cry out in tortured pleasure.

As the metal began to slowly slide up the boy's shaft, those dainty little heels dug into the dirt as he whimpered and tried to scramble away, biting his lip to keep from crying out as he feebly attempted escape. When the cold metal finally dragged itself along the underside of his head, Perry couldn't do anything but arch his back and cry out into the air, his body convulsing as his seed splattered over his abdomen, Strife pulling the razor away to keep the boy from hurting himself. When his voice finally cracked and his soft buttocks finally fell back to the earth, Strife fell on him with another deep kiss, the razor long since tossed into the fire, his empty hand now gently caressing Perry's still-hard sex as the fingers began to slowly inch downward, Perry whimpering as one began to probe at his tight entrance.

The boy almost cried when the hand fell away from his sensitive places, but when the sound of his Master's fly being undone reached his ears, his breathing hitched; he had wanted to make himself bleed, had wanted to rid himself of his anxieties and hate as he rid himself of his worthless blood... but now he found himself yearning to release it all the way his Master had been teaching him, with pleasant, wonderful sex. As a Pokeboy, he already thrived on the pleasing touch of another being, but now that his Master had begun to mentally condition him, it wasn't just the act that cured what ailed him; it was the fact that he was doing it with his Master. No matter how much Perry demanded and yelled, however, his Master had never provided a name for the psychological conditionin; he said Perry would understand it when the time was right.

He was then drawn from his contemplations as he felt his Master's hard length press against him, and gasped in sweet surprise as he felt himself penetrated, his legs spread wide around his master's waist. Strife's mouth again met Perry's in a sweet, gentle kiss as his hands slid down the Emo's chest and sides, Perry's hands still high above his head, scratching into the dirt as he shivered beneath his Master, his body quaking with every thrust, his Master driving further into him, blinding his mind and filling his vision with white-hot pleasure.

Perry whimpered, shuddered and moaned as his Master filled and spread him, holding him close while pinning him down, his mouth covering Perry's lips, neck and shoulder in kisses as the boy sang his pleasure out. It wasn't long before Perry again began convulsing in his Master's arms, clinging to him tightly as he felt his Master's wet, sticky heat spreading through his depths. He shuddered and gasped as he painted both his stomach and his Master's with his own seed, his soft rear clenching tightly about his Master's cock as he cried out, burying his face in the larger man's neck. After a few moments, Strife finally loosened his grip around the boy's sides, the bear-hug becoming a simple cuddle as he panted and kisses his dear boy's neck.

"M-master..." Perry whispered weakly, panting and nuzzling Strife's neck gently, his cold, dainty hands softly caressing his Master's stubble. He'd come upon an epiphany, somewhere along the rutting, and now he knew what it was his Master had been striving to teach him, first be denying him the tools to hurt himself, by having sex with him, and even by leaping through a fire, singing his hair and clothes all for the sake of his Perry. "I... I love you, Master..."

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Poster's Note
If only Strifey wasn't so lazy he could upload this himself. I feel a little bad about this, but this story is just fantastic, one of my favorites, and I figured AFF.net just had to experience this. If you're interested at all in Pokeboys, feel free to drop by our adults-only Yahoo! group, pokeboyuniversefullgroup.