[Playthings] Author: kaze风

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Playthings
Author: kaze wind
"Warning: This article is recommended for readers aged 18 and above. Those who cannot accept sadomasochistic or erotic stories should not read it to
avoid causing unease."
(1)
His knuckles turned white as he gripped the sheets tightly, using all his strength to suppress the urge to escape.
His tense body trembled constantly, perhaps because his naked body had been exposed to the cold air, or perhaps
because he was afraid of the humiliation he was about to face.
The man buried his head in the snow-white pillow, his beautiful eyebrows, as if they had just been groomed, were intertwined. His eyes
were tightly closed, as if by doing so, he would not have to face the next scene. His limbs were on the bed, only his buttocks were raised
high. The man's hands and mouth were about to roam over his body, and he had to cater to them like a dog... Just imagining it
made him feel disgusted. In addition to the bed, the room was filled with all kinds of props, and one could imagine 　　all kinds of sadomasochistic items
used in sex .
The bed was also specially made, its edges covered with handcuffs—hands and feet—to facilitate different positions,
making struggle futile once locked.
The room was brightly lit, offering no concealment. The man's interest lay in seeing
his playthings clearly from the start, relishing the shameful pleasure they felt in the light.
The man pushed open the door; for someone in his fifties, he was well-maintained, his muscles defined
, with little excess fat. Yet, the smile on his face was chilling, a morbid and crazed smile, like
the satisfied smile of a child dismantling a toy.
He slowly approached his new toy on the bed, condescendingly admiring the fearful yet helpless submission,
having already mentally humiliated and toyed with it. Mature, slender fingers rested on the snow-white, delicate buttocks as
naturally as on a chair armrest, not even moving, yet making the bed tense and suffocating.
His hands pressed tightly against the soft, white buttocks, feeling the cold sweat slowly seeping out; the bright red vagina
began to contract faster, and the man was pleased. This was his usual tactic, driving his plaything to desperation. He toyed with you, keeping
your nerves constantly on edge, never knowing when the devil would invade, leaving you only with despair.
The plaything on the bed, breathing weakly, simply watched, yet felt as if his spirit was being pierced, and
pierced again. He didn't know whether this mental torture was more painful, or whether the physical pain he would face would
break him. In any case, he had no way out.
Finally, as if tired, the man forcefully spread her tightly closed buttocks, revealing her complete and beautiful interior.
Without any foreplay, he pulled down his pants and entered her directly. He liked the pristine virginity,
nourishing the parched forbidden land with blood. He firmly believed that, whether male or female, only blood could leave a mark, forever remembering
who inflicted the humiliation upon them.
The two men continued their union. The bed shook, the iron handcuffs clanking against each other, the cold sound penetrating his mind, each
sound representing the shattering of self-respect.
From the moment he was bought by that man, he was destined to be the one being played in the game, with
no real chance of winning or losing.
(2)
Lying quietly, his master had been gone for a long time, and the slave dared to look around now, fearing any
disrespect. This small suite would be his personal little world from now on, with a living room, bathroom, and kitchen. The only room
was the one he was in now, a room full of lust.
Is this kindness or cruelty? Giving you complete freedom, allowing you to move around freely, go out, and even
invite friends home, but you can't find peace every night. When you close your eyes, you remember the details of being abused, especially in the darkness, which
stimulates every nerve. The man's hand slid across his body, he was repeatedly penetrated by the props, and he was forced into an embarrassing position...
He shifted his body, looking for a more comfortable sleeping position, although he knew it was all in vain, and
the pain from the inside out would not be lessened. From the very beginning of intercourse, the pain never ceased. He felt the blood
gushing out, and thought it couldn't be worse than this: lying prone, being instantly penetrated from behind by the man, his untouched
muscles torn apart, the terrifying, burningly large member penetrating deep into his internal organs.
Inexperienced, he truly believed the appetizer was the end, and after the man withdrew, he comforted himself,
"Finally, it's over." But then he saw his master, holding a vibrator that bounced like a fish leaping ashore,
approaching with a smile, forcing his limp, curled legs wide open to either side of the bed. He stared blankly as
it unfolded, offering no resistance or daring to say anything. Before he could react, the vibrator was already
churning inside him like a drill, the granular protrusions constantly rubbing against the inner walls.
He bit his lower lip, accepting this extraordinary conflict, his almost scream turning into a muffled groan. To
suppress his moans, he closed his eyes and tensed his body, his anus contracting repeatedly from the tension, making the
uneven foreign object inside him even more palpable. The pain was so intense that his nails dug deep into his palms, the streaks of blood
adding to the mess on the sheets, yet he remained silent.
His master, unappreciating his suppressed pain, maliciously pushed the vibrator deeper as punishment. But he still
suppressed the urge to vomit, his face devoid of emotion, except for the beads of sweat dripping from his forehead, a testament to
the torment he endured. The man coldly looked at his new toy, finally losing interest and abandoning it,
leaving the room without a word.
Left behind, unaware that the day's play was over, he left the vibrator inside him. Only after a long while did he
realize the room was already silent, that his master had left, and weakly sat up, pulling out the foreign object.
The vibrator, which he hadn't turned off, continued to tremble. He smiled bitterly, thinking, "It and I are both powerless."
He slowly unlocked the shackles on his feet, telling himself he needed to get out of bed and clean himself. He didn't have the courage to examine his bleeding wounds closely;
he only knew that he needed to wash away what the man had released inside him before the blood dried and the numbness in his anus disappeared
. He managed to get out of bed, but his legs were too weak to stand, so he crawled towards the bathroom. Crawling on all fours
made him feel like a dog, just like he had been at the beginning, lying on the bed, waiting for the man's favor.
Was he even human anymore? He had become a man's plaything—to put it nicely, he was kept; to be honest, he was a slave
—either way, it would invite contempt. Ha, so what? What was self-respect worth? Money, he needed...
He wanted money, regardless of the process or method, as long as he could get what he wanted in the end.
This was his only value, his only contribution to his mother's family.
(3)
Home, an unfamiliar vocabulary. What constitutes a "home"? If it refers to a place of residence... then this small
apartment could be considered his home. But he had no family. He used to have some, but they disappeared without him noticing
.
It's not that they died or anything.
His home... let's call that home for now. Besides his parents, there was an older brother and a younger sister. His brother was excellent,
his sister was pampered, and he, like most middle children, was the extra one, inconspicuous and unimportant,
at most used as an object of comparison.
Unfortunately, he was not only not outstanding, but also somewhat foolish. Just as he could never understand why his mother
needed him, who was in the way, after his excellent brother was born; since he was already superfluous,
his sister, who came later than him, was loved by everyone.
"Your brother is amazing, he got into graduate school. Your sister's going to high school soon..." His mother, unusually
, pulled him aside and said a few words, "You know our circumstances aren't good..."
There's no place for him in the family, don't waste food. But we've raised you for so long, you should contribute something, right?
He nodded, understanding his mother's meaning. He silently left the room, seeing his brother approaching,
avoiding him like the plague.
He couldn't stay... he couldn't stay.
In the dead of night, he ran into the street. He didn't have any special skills, only a pretty face. His mother probably thought the same thing
; what job could someone as slow-witted as him find? His only weapon was his body.
Rain and sweat soaked his clothes as he ran for his life, finally arriving at a bar. He had noticed it long ago; it was
always men coming in and out, always looking well-dressed, leaving with handsome or cute men. Simple and direct,
this was a place to buy men; he was going to become a male prostitute.
He burst through the door, dripping wet, and the air fell silent. The waiters and guests were all stunned, staring in disbelief
at this incongruous intruder. In this upscale club, his tattered appearance was like an ugly duckling among swans
. The waiters politely approached, but instead of putting up a fight, they grabbed his arms. He struggled, resisted, and shouted,
"I need to work! Don't kick me out..."
"What's all the noise about?" The man's presence alone was enough to overwhelm the room. Those who had been struggling stood in a straight line. He
collapsed to the floor, watching the emperor approach, finally understanding what fear truly was. Sadness and humiliation welled up, turning into tears that streamed
down his face. He had made the right move; to the man, he seemed as innocent and harmless as a work of art.
"I am the boss, Mo Weizong." He raised his cigar, a wisp of smoke drifting by and disappearing without a trace. "Want to
work here? Are you a virgin?"
"Yes. I am." He lay on the ground, looking up at the man, who was so tall and he was so insignificant.
"I'll buy you. You'll be mine." The man pointed at him with the cigarette butt, giving him a command. "
What's your name?"
"Slave."
In front of everyone, he took off his shirt, revealing his flawless white skin. He crawled on his knees to the man's feet,
solemnly took his hand, and branded the left side of his hand with the cigarette butt. He endured the burning pain and looked directly into his master
's eyes to swear, "From today onwards, I am your slave."
He sold himself for 100,000 yuan a month. It wasn't a sacrifice; he only had this kind of utility
.
(4)
Slave... Of course, that's not his name. What was his original name? It seems to be Dawei or Aqiang, just
an ordinary name, commonplace, unremarkable yet profound. So profoundly, people often only remember the name
, forgetting the person.
Anyway, there's no need anymore; what's the point of a name? Just remember your identity.
Having given up everything—feelings, self-respect, love… and himself—he had nothing left. He didn't understand
why he was alive. Until he brought home his first 100,000 yuan and saw tears welling in his elderly mother's eyes,
her hands grasping his for the first time.
"Is work tiring?"
"Living alone is so inconvenient. Come back often, I'll make you some soup."
"You've worked so hard… Mom didn't want you to work… Don't blame Mom, none of us wanted to."
He cried, hugging the old woman. It's alright… everything is alright! Leave the lowly to me, as long as you're
happy.
Her thin, bony hands trembled as she gripped him, tears welling in her eyes. For a moment, he thought the old woman was about to kneel down and kiss his
right hand. Her caring voice was dedicated to the god who saved their whole family. Having lost one, the rest were
redeemed.
"Mom... I'm not tired... It's alright... I can still manage." My job is just lying down,
it's not tiring. It's just that living is so tiring, so tiring...
Since losing his virginity, Mr. Mo has come a few more times. Each time, he would grab his legs directly, either wrap them around his waist or
place them on his shoulders, going straight to the deepest, soft, and vulnerable part, swinging wildly and then remaining still inside. There was
no need to care whether the person beneath him was asleep or awake, in pleasure or pain, even if he orgasmed or fainted, he wouldn't make a sound.
A doll... a sex doll. He couldn't think of any better word than that.
Let the days pass like this, being fucked by men until he's broken, and by then he'll have earned enough money, and his family
won't have to worry about life.
His mother put a piece of meat in his sister's bowl, his sister was pouring soup for his father, and his brother was eating silently, his mind preoccupied with research at
the institute. This is probably what a harmonious family is like: a life of abundance, purpose, and peace. No need to
go hungry, and no more worries about money.
Seeing all this was enough, even though I felt so out of place.
"Mom, I'm leaving now. You all get some rest." I left the address of the small apartment. If you need money or anything,
just come find me. I'll be of use to you.
Before I could even pull myself out of this blissful state, I was back in the cold, hard place.
"You're back?" The man's cheerful voice reached my ears at the same time as the door clicked open
.
"Hmm..." He hesitated, unsure whether to go forward or retreat. His confusion pleased the man
, or perhaps the man was already in a good mood. "It's alright, I told you you'd be free."
He stood up first, the man now in control of the game. "Bang-bang," he stepped into the room, a rare smile playing on his lips.
His footsteps were like a heartbeat, striking his heart heavily.
"Come in, I've prepared something new for you today."
A door separated heaven and hell. A fictional heaven, and a real hell.
(5)
"Ugh..." A lewd, lustful gasp escaped, faint but clear. On the bed, the snow-white flesh
lay with its hands wide open, handcuffed to the edge of the bed, its legs bent and locked in a lower position, its chest rising and falling rhythmically
.
This was the first time he had been handcuffed, except for the first day, and with his eyes covered by a cloth, a fear unlike any he had felt before
arose. He remembered his master saying, "I've prepared something new."
Wasn't that enough? He had already been taken from at will, yet he still hadn't satisfied his master's needs?
His master placed a pillow under his waist, raising his buttocks a few inches off the bed. He felt the touch of fingers
swirling around his anus. His left hand slowly moved towards his anus, using his index and middle fingers to slightly open the entrance.
The sensation of the foreign object entering made him frown
. His unlubricated anus wasn't very receptive, though the texture of the foreign object was definitely felt on the inner walls.
One after another, round balls were gradually entering his body. They weren't very large, each about
the size of a marble, but the concave and convex shape made the experience uncomfortable, and without the cooling effect of glass, it couldn't
alleviate the burning discomfort. Finally, they were all deeply inside, very long, much longer than a man's penis. He wondered
if they had reached his internal organs.
After inserting this thing, his master didn't go any further, as if searching for something, constantly making "thump, thump,
thump" sounds. Finally, the man's footsteps returned to the bedside. He grabbed the tip of his penis, looped a leather rope around it, and
tightened it. The man on the bed jolted in pain.
His hand then reached down and tugged at the beaded rod in his anus. The friction made him unconsciously tighten his anus.
As if he had guessed correctly, the man smiled and pulled the whole thing out in one swift motion. Blood seeped continuously from his anus. The pain
made his whole body arch upwards, and his hands and feet bled from the friction of the shackles caused by the sudden tightening.
Blood stained his snow-white flesh. The man laughed gleefully, "Beautiful...so beautiful..."
His rough hand stroked his hair. The master stuffed the ball into his mouth and then looped the leather rope around the back of his head and locked it. "
It might hurt a little now. I'm afraid you'll bite your tongue...just bear with it. Anyway, you don't need to scream, it won't matter."
The man's caresses and his feignedly gentle voice brought back unbearable memories, and his body trembled even more violently.
The gradually cooling body aroused the man's sadistic pleasure. "Scared? How cute."
A sharp, cold touch pressed against his abdomen, a stinging pain slowly rising. He felt the blade probing into his flesh,
sliding along his abdomen, tearing the muscles apart, leaving long, deep gashes. The man's movements were
slow, but powerful, the blade slicing through the muscles step by step, the gashes on his abdomen growing longer.
"You know what? I really like to draw... especially like this, drawing on the human body." His voice
distorted with excitement. The man dropped the knife, lowered his head, and licked the wounds on his abdomen with his tongue. The wetness and stinging pain made him
bite his lip... It seemed like there wasn't a single part of his body that was unharmed.
Ah... no, there was also that... bound penis. As if knowing his thoughts, the man untied
the bindings at the tip, still limp and hanging down, the pain so intense he hadn't even had an orgasm. The man picked up a pile of tools beside him
, chose a needle and a silver ring, and without any sterilization, pierced the surface with the thick needle.
"Ah!!!" The pain of the needle forcibly piercing his penis made him scream. Hearing his scream, the man gleefully
used another needle to prick the wound, exposing the opening. He was already shaking his head wildly in pain, his hands and feet pulling and hitting
the shackles, blood seeping from his wrists and ankles. The master finally completed the final sacred moment, slipping the silver ring
between the flesh and closing the gap.
"This is my gift to you, isn't it beautiful?" The master finally untied his bandages, forcefully pulling his
hair and lifting his upper body. He saw that his entire body was a bloody mess, and the urge to vomit rose... This was his own
body, yet he couldn't recognize it.
After playing with it... comes destruction? Then let it be annihilation. He closed his eyes in despair, not expecting it to come
so quickly. But the man's next words revealed a deeper abyss of hell to him. Beyond the physical pain,
he was reminded of long-forgotten, masochistic memories.
"You still like it, right? Actually, I'm quite skeptical. Why would a virgin's body arouse a man's desire? Have
you really never been 'trained' by anyone else?" His gaze turned crazed. He had long ago realized he
wasn't his first man, especially given her relentless silence.
Driven by revenge and a desire for destruction, he brutally tortured her. The man didn't want to spend money every month
only to receive inferior goods.
(6)
The scalding hot water washed over the wounds, mixing with the blood and flowing onto the ground, turning the bathroom into a sea of blood. As the blood
flowed away, life slowly faded away; could his filth be washed away by the blood...?
His body, covered with wounds of all sizes, was thrown into the bathroom after his master had satisfied, instructing him to clean it up properly. There was no
help at all; at first, he could only lie there like a rag doll, laboriously rubbing the floor with his hands to move closer to the bathtub,
not caring how much blood he left on the floor from his wounds.
Finally, he reached the bathtub; what was normally just a few steps was enough to make him dizzy and disoriented. He lay
on... He gasped for breath at the edge of the bathtub, the sharp lines of his bones clearly visible on his exposed back and shoulders, even the texture of his ribs
was crystal clear.
The gradual improvement in the health of his family contrasted sharply with his emaciated state.
After taking in enough oxygen, he used his remaining strength to stand up, grabbed the showerhead hanging on the wall, and
the force of pulling it sent him tumbling back to the ground, saving him the trouble of sitting down. His outstretched fingertips found the hot water
switch, and steaming water gushed out. Before he could adjust the temperature, it was already hitting his wound, the pain
almost making him scream. He then turned the cold water on full blast.
The icy water washed over his wounds, a constant mix of stinging and numbness. His wrists and feet were alright, but
the most painful was his bleeding anus, even though no man had penetrated him. Ignoring his shame, he spread his legs wide
. The instant the blood-soaked inner walls touched the icy water, a wave of dizziness washed over him, making everything go black.
When he opened his eyes, he saw the worm-like knife wounds on his abdomen. His stomach churned, a strong
urge to vomit surged up, and yellow bile, mixed with a sweet, metallic taste, dripped from the corners of his mouth, finally trickling down his face. The icy
water continued to pound his burning body, but he remained motionless, utterly powerless.
"You really haven't been trained by anyone else?"
The little boy stared blankly at the man, usually silent, approaching him with
a grotesque smile. The large, rough hand that always punched him was now stroking his hair. A surge of intense fear
and disgust rose within him inexplicably.
"Come on, be a good boy, let Daddy pamper you." His large, rough hands slid from his hair to his waist,
removing the boy's clothes. The boy's small, undeveloped body trembled from the cold and fear. The man smiled gleefully,
pinching the boy's small nipple on his left chest with his fingertips, pulling and kneading it at different angles, even lowering his head to lick it with his tongue
and bite it with his teeth.
"No...don't...I'm scared..." the boy pleaded softly, his voice choked with sobs. The man punished him by
pinching his once pink nipple, now red and swollen, even harder with his nails. The boy, unable to bear the pain
, tried to scream, but the man sat on top of him and forced his hairy, enormous member into his open mouth.
"Lick it! If you dare bite, I'll beat you to death! You fucking bastard!"
The stench of the filthy male body filled his mouth, and the excessively large penis pressed against his throat. Speaking was impossible; even breathing was a
problem. He gasped for air, only to feel the disgusting thing in his mouth swelling larger and larger. His father continued to grip
his head, rocking him back and forth, thrusting in and out.
"That's it... If you dare speak again, I'll fuck you to death." The boy, gradually losing consciousness due to lack of oxygen, only
remembered the man saying this. Just as he was about to suffocate, the man finally ejaculated yellowish-white semen into his mouth and
covered the boy's mouth, saying, "Drink it. You're so skinny, this will help you get stronger."
Watching the boy obediently drink it, the man happily left his son's room. The boy sat there blankly
, a trace of semen still at the corner of his mouth. When the nine-year-old brother came home, he saw
his younger brother sitting there, barely clothed and covered in bruises. The young boy did not know that these were the marks left by lust, and only thought that his younger brother
had been bullied by someone.
"Yongcun, what's wrong?" He gently hugged his younger brother and wiped the liquid from the corner of his mouth. When the boy heard
the voice he trusted most, he finally realized what had happened and tears silently streamed down his face. Yonghao gently patted his younger brother and comforted him that it was okay and that
he would stay with him. Yongcun felt a surge of warmth and wanted to say everything, but he remembered his father's words, "If you dare to speak, I'll
kill you!" So he just shook his head silently and told himself that it was okay, that he still had his beloved older brother.
(7)
The texture of his fingertips touched his forehead, cool and comfortable, just like his older brother's hand. In the past, his older brother always held that
little hand, afraid that he would fall and hurt himself; he always smiled and brushed the bangs in front of his forehead and said, "Little brother, I love you the most."
He secretly left his snacks and gave them to the unloved brother, and the two brothers shared them. Even though
the portions were small, the sweetness was immense.
He reduced his own study time to help his younger brother, who wasn't as bright, but it didn't seem to help much
. However, every time he saw his brother holding the textbook, explaining things to him in a gentle and patient voice, he was moved to tears.
When their mother was angry, he was the first and only one to jump in and plead for him, even taking
a slap from her anger… though he would be beaten even more severely in return, his heart wouldn't ache.
His brother was the person who loved him most in the world, and the person he loved most in return.
Because of his brother, he didn't mind what their father did. He knew his brother would always
hold him, tell him he would take care of him no matter what, and shed tears for him. His brother used his cool hands to apply
medicine to his frail body, his fingers tenderly caressing the wounds his brother refused to explain,
applying the cool medicine stroke by stroke.
He even saved money by skipping lunch to buy the medicine, hiding it from their mother.
His brother was the best person in the world.
But when did everything change? His brother was no longer his protector, and he could no
longer follow in his brother's footsteps.
Because of his sister's birth, his brother's recognition as a genius, and his
increasing neglect at home, his mother's growing dislike for him, and his father's intensified abuse, all contributed to his suffering.
Before, after his father had done "that kind of thing" to him, his brother would place his cool fingertips on his feverish
forehead. He always loved that feeling, even hoping for more abuse from his father, because
his brother would feel heartache and love him dearly.
That cool feeling was like what he felt on his forehead now.
"Brother...you're back?" Just like now, he wore a simple smile,
always seeing his brother's worried face when he opened his eyes.
But he saw a man watching him with a mocking smile, as if admiring a clown's one-man show.
A chill ran through his body from his forehead; the man's hand was on his forehead, a hand "not his brother
's." In fact, 　　he had known for a long time that he had lost his brother
when he was hospitalized for three days due to abuse and his brother hadn't visited him even once .
His father's heinous deeds were thus exposed, but the family all
looked at him with disdain, as if he were some filthy garbage. No one blamed his father, and certainly no
one sympathized with him.
"A misfortune for the family," his sister sneered, not referring to his father's actions, but implying his very existence.
He was severely beaten upon returning home, and for a week he could only eat bread to pay for his hospital bills. No
one stole snacks for the starving children anymore, no one offered a cool hand to soothe his burning forehead, and of course, his father
had no interest in doing anything more to his body.
His weakened body had even lost ten kilograms… the doctor said he was malnourished. He wondered why he
was still alive.
Humans aren't actually fragile; they don't die easily even after enduring torture. Like him, tortured in various ways by the man before him
, yet he still survived, didn't he?
"Master...you've come." His face regained its calm expression, like a doll activated, awaiting
the next command. The man's hand slid from his forehead to his cheek, then lifted his chin with his fingers. "You know? You
almost lost your life." His fingers moved up and down his cheek, seemingly unconscious, yet also deliberately teasing
or intimidating.
The body lying on the bed, covered in ugly scars, brought back memories.
"Constantly drenched in cold water, and the wounds wouldn't stop bleeding." His hand moved down a little further, stopping at his neck. "Want to die
, you?" A beast with raised eyebrows and crazed eyes sneered.
His fingers gradually increased pressure; he could feel the weak, heavy pulse beating through his skin. Calmly watching his pale
face slowly flush with an unnatural red from lack of oxygen, his mouth opened for air and his tongue protruding, the man satisfiedly
squeezed tighter and then released.
"Very well. Since you don't want to live... then let me have some fun." If you don't care about life and death, you should
n't mind how cruelly your body is treated.
(8)
The weak and pale body lingered on the bed, even breathing was so painful, but
it had to fight desperately to survive. The mini vibrating eggs squeezed into the anus were dancing their own dance.
"Make sure you remember the number, otherwise leave a few inside..."
The man inserted the individual vibrating eggs, which vibrated at different speeds, one by one, until he couldn't count how many there were, maybe a dozen or so?
The man had said happily that because of its small size, it was easy to penetrate deep inside.
The penis was naturally bound, with a long and rough leather rope wrapped around it again and again, and then the end extended all the way
to the upper body, tightly wrapped around the slender neck, the pleasure of hovering between life and death, suffocation and oxygen. To breathe,
he had to tilt his head back forcefully, but each movement caused excruciating pain in his lower body.
"Still not begging for mercy? Heh heh, mute." Without a shred of pity, he grabbed the rope, the sudden tightening forcing him
to open his mouth wide to inhale. The man then took advantage of the situation, shoving his own burning heat into his mouth. The stench of blood and filth reached
his throat, robbing him of even the last bit of air.
"No... I want to say no, but every time I shake my head, Father beats me." The rope dug deep into his flesh,
tracing beautiful bloodstains. The crimson blood slid down, replacing the tears that couldn't fall.
The vibration in his anus, the restraint of his penis, the suffocating, frantic suppression... his thoughts drifted away.
Whether he was seven or twenty, the world had no place for him. He seemed to see his brother's
hand gently stroking his hair again, the only solace. So gentle... he saw his brother's smile.
Untying the rope around his neck, the man grabbed his arm and dragged him into the bathroom, throwing him to the floor.
Cold water was immediately sprayed onto his face, the icy water stinging his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. He coughed and regained consciousness, back to reality
… such a short dream.
“Get it out,” the man commanded, swinging the vibrating post and directing the spray downwards towards his genitals.
Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to sit up, squatting down to slowly expel the vibrating egg from
his body. He stared at the egg, which bounced a few times after hitting the ground and continued to vibrate. This was
what had been inside him all along—no, there were still a few left…
Sweat poured from his cold forehead. He simply closed his eyes, breathing weakly. The ones deepest inside
probably couldn't be removed without his hands. Looking up at his master's excited expression, he suddenly realized the man had been
waiting for this moment. Since he'd already lost all self-respect, and could get away with it quickly, he didn't hesitate to insert his index and middle
fingers into his body, exploring the weapon wreaking havoc inside.
Besides washing away the semen and blood, he was personally inserting his fingers into his anus for the first time, and under the gaze of others
… This realization made him intensely ashamed. His tightly bound penis engorged with blood, causing his anus to contract painfully, his fingers stuck inside, unable
to move forward or backward. But he couldn't leave them there. Suppressing all discomfort and excitement, his slender fingertips
plunged deeper again, finally touching the vibrating eggs inside, about two or three more.
After several attempts, he finally managed to pull one out. Looking at the blood-stained vibrating egg, he mustered his courage and
plunged in again… He was actually somewhat relieved that after enduring prolonged abuse, his anus was already numb and relaxed, and the second egg
was easily removed.
Suddenly, his master signaled him to stop. The man pressed his waist against the edge of the bathtub, his hot penis plunging
deep inside him. With each thrust, the last vibrating egg inside was pushed further in. His stomach
was being squeezed by the immense force, and the torment of his anus made him gag, but because
he hadn't eaten much for two days—since returning home and being unconscious the previous day—he couldn't vomit. He was somewhat grateful for his empty stomach, which prevented
him from looking even worse.
Predictably, his rectum was completely empty; there was no undigested food to expel.
The man released himself inside him, then turned him over and finally untied the ropes binding him. Besides the
vibrating egg still throbbing in his anus, and because of the man's snake-like gaze, he ejaculated in front of the man for the first time. White
fluid splattered on his scarred abdomen, and his anus remained filled with the man's semen. Ejaculation made him feel more ashamed than anything else. He had to admit that he was 　　a plaything who could feel pleasure
even under abuse , a body more lewd than anyone else. 　　The last vibrating egg slid down with the semen and he silently expelled it, watching it bounce on the ground 　　until the power ran out and it stopped. Even though he was powerless, would he also be like it, pleasing men until his life 　　was exhausted...? 　　Thinking this in a daze, he inadvertently saw his master taking a bath. His face overlapped with his brother's in an instant, and 　　he remembered that cold hand. 　　Does someone like him deserve love? Who would give him... even just a little bit? 　　(9) 　　"Can you love me..." 　　The hoarse voice echoed. Only this sentence remained in his mind, the most real but most regrettable request. 　　He woke up from the bed with a cold sweat. He dreamed that he opened his mouth and cried out for someone's love. Don't be silly.

"Oh, this kind of person... what right does someone like him have to talk about love?"
He sat up straight. His master hadn't come for the past few days, and his wounds had mostly healed. Thinking about it carefully, this kind of
life wasn't so bad. After all, he had nothing.
Just like his name, Yongcun, Yongcun—if you don't call out, he ceases to exist... He had long since become a slave, nameless,
heartless...
what right did someone like him have to talk about love, to demand love?
With a faint smile, he dressed, took out this month's check, and planned to go home. At least at home,
someone would smile at him, they would talk to him... even if it was bought with money, so what?
Everyone buys what they want, and he was only using it to exchange for a little bit of feeling loved,
even if it was just an illusion.
Actually, his home wasn't that bad. Compared to his current life, the previous scolding and beatings were actually quite merciful
. His father only expressed love through touch... after all, he hadn't actually entered his body, had he
? And then there was his loving older brother…
Back home, only his brother was inside. He rushed into the room after opening the door, but his brother grabbed his
hand, feeling its cool, comforting touch. “Brother… I haven’t had a proper talk with you in so long…”
“Don’t touch me! You pervert!” His brother shoved his hand away, the cool touch turning icy cold, and the sweet
memories vanished instantly… When did he stop calling him “brother” and start calling him “older brother
”?
That summer when he was fifteen.
The two brothers had grown up and no longer slept together as often as before, but his brother still paid close attention to his condition
, such as whether his bruises had worsened. On a hot night, their father came to vent again.
As the cold water washed away his disgusting bodily fluids, he looked at his body and couldn’t help but weep.
His brother found him by the sound of crying, silently turned off the tap, dried him off, dressed him, and took him to
his room. Waking up in the middle of the night or crying after being abused wasn't a recent occurrence, but each time the sound was
very soft, and the older brother wasn't sure if he was comforting him.
Holding his younger brother's slightly cold body, he gently patted him, waiting for him to fall asleep. But the boy rolled his eyes
, his swollen eyes staring at his older brother. "Do you think I'm disgusting, brother?"
The older brother shook his head painfully. Why would this child ask such a question? He brushed the hair from his younger brother's forehead. "I love you the most,
my dearest little brother." "
Really? You really love me?" Innocent eyes looked at his most trusted older brother. He
loved his older brother so much too.
"Brother, can you kiss me?"
The older brother suddenly pulled his hand away as if burned, looking at the boy in front of him with fear, as if he had never known
him before. The "love" his younger brother referred to was...
a seventeen-year-old boy who was no longer ignorant about sex. Next, the father's abuse of the boy was discovered, and
the older brother looked at him with contempt.
All these years, it turned out that he and his father had "that kind of relationship." He actually hugged a man who was being vented on by men every night
... and even cherished him. It was disgusting, it was ridiculous! God
knows how he seduced his father, secretly enjoying it, a "brother" who liked men.
"No, I don't want to call you that anymore... you don't deserve it. I only had one brother, he was
innocent and cute, but he died a long time ago."
Killed by a filthy vixen.
His brother never touched him again, or even said a word to him. He became even more isolated at home,
because even the only person who would pity him looked down on him.
His smile froze on his face, and his body trembled incessantly. That's right, no one wanted to kiss him, who was so filthy. They
would only vent their frustrations and abuse him like a doll. No one would want to love him like this...
even his beloved brother looked down on him in the end... because he was a child who was not worthy of love.
(10)
He couldn't eat and fled. He actually thought he would get any comfort... how naive. Look at how his
brother sees him as some kind of filthy trash, calling him a "pervert"... Heh heh heh.
A gentle hand ruthlessly pushed him away.
Today is his twenty-first birthday.
Why, why did I have to exist... born into this world without any expectations? He... he wants to
celebrate properly; this is his twenty-first year of suffering in this world!
He walks into a shop and chooses twenty-one candles, no more, no less. He doesn't have much money, only enough to buy the cheapest
red candles, short and fragile, just like him... Someone once said that candles represent life. When these twenty
-one candles burn out, will his life end with them?
He can't remember how he got back to the suite. He finds himself lying naked on the bed, surrounded by darkness.
He wonders if he really went out, or if it was all just a dream, and he didn't see his brother...
The plastic bag beside him seems to mock his overthinking.
He fumbled for a candle, lit it with a lighter, and lay there silently watching the flickering flames. The dim light
didn't change anything. The candle burned on, and a few drops of wax dripped onto his chest with a trembling hand. The scalding heat made him gasp
, but then, as if realizing something, a blank smile appeared on his face.
"Everyone else has a cake... a snow-white cream cake covered in candles." He, however, only had his
filthy body, penetrated by a man. He lit candle after candle, dripping wax onto his body before inserting the candles. His chest
and lower abdomen were the best places to celebrate.
Twenty-one candles burned together, the flickering flames beautiful. He thought of the little angels holding candlesticks at Christmas
. If he could also wash his body with those pure white candles, perhaps he too would one day find redemption.
In reality, his body was covered in a gaudy, bright red—perhaps this cheap, obscene garment suited him better
… Hot wax continued to seep and drip…
Just as he was admiring his masterpiece, the door opened, and his master stared at him expressionlessly.
“I had no idea I’d bought such a disobedient slave.” He pulled off his belt and lashed it across his body.
With each lash, molten wax splattered into the air, and crimson tears… “Who gave you permission to harm yourself?”
"Myself?"
He lay on the bed, no longer surprised, no longer feeling pain, a sense of emptiness... All the important things were gone.
As if deliberately provoking its master, it increased the curve of its lips. "Celebrating... I'm wishing myself a
happy birthday."
The man slapped the candle twice more, blood and wax mixing together, most of the candles extinguished or broken
.
"Birthday? Then the party I prepared today is quite timely!"
Opening the door, various men stood outside, tall and short, fat and thin, different in appearance and demeanor. They
had only one thing in common: they all looked at or assessed him on the bed with lewd eyes. When they saw
the body covered in wax, mocking and taunting voices rose and fell.
"A slave playing games without his master's orders, tsk tsk, truly despicable."
"What a fucking slut, enjoying being tortured so much, we're in for a treat."
"Disdainful of low-temperature candles, the more pain, the more pleasure?...Then the usual methods might
not satisfy this little slave."
Seven, eight...twelve, thirteen... Strangers walked in chatting, their conversation reaching
his ears word for word. All of them...all of them to possess his body? Serving so many men at once...
He thought he had given up hope, that he should have long forgotten what fear was, yet he still couldn't control
the trembling in his body. Was this the "gift" his master had prepared for him? Should he be thankful that his master didn't know he was twenty-one years old today
?
Otherwise, he would probably have to serve twenty-one different men.
The room was filled with the sounds of rapid breathing, swallowing, and saliva. They all stared intently
at the well-trained plaything on the bed. How lewd his body was after being trained by men,
how sweet his screams would be when he was penetrated by more than ten men…
“Do you still like it? I specially prepared a party for you…”
(11)
Pushing away the wax that had cooled down on his body, his body was exposed to more than ten men. The sensitive protrusions on his chest,
the silver-ringed penises on his lower body, the worm-like scars on his abdomen, the ambiguous wax scattered all over his body
, the marks on his wrists and ankles from being tortured by iron shackles many times…
all showed how impure and damn lewd this body was.
Suddenly he remembered that the man had said he was “second-rate goods”, but now he was… even less than second-rate goods. His master
was tired of him, so he gave him to his friends to enjoy, like a magnificent feast, and he was just one of the dishes or
a performance. The man stared into his eyes as if to say, “You want money, right? If you want money, don’t resist my orders.”
He closed his eyes and waited for the men to pounce on him and tear his body and soul apart. But the imagined torture didn't
happen. The man spoke calmly, "You...do it yourself."
Was he saying...do it yourself? What do you mean, do it yourself? He opened his eyes in confusion and found that his master's gaze was
focused on...his lower body. He understood what the man was talking about.
He weakly raised his right hand, slowly moved it to his lower body, and grabbed his penis. Disgusted...
he squeezed his desire tightly in his hand as if venting his anger. The pain made him bite his lip until it bled. Through his half-closed eyes, he saw himself shamelessly
masturbating in front of everyone. With each rubbing of his fingers, the men's gasps were clear. Finally, he shook off
his hand, and semen and the blood from his fingernails splashed up at the same time. Looking at the mixture of light red and white fluid on his hand, he put
his index finger to his mouth.
This is what men want, isn't it... a seductive slut...
One of the audience members couldn't resist, pulled down his pants, rushed forward, grabbed his legs, and thrust into him. He closed
his eyes, groaned, and silently endured it. Two or three others, seeing this, also came over. One forcefully pulled at his
bulge, another played with the silver ring on his drooping penis, and the ugly
man hurriedly shoved his own hot flesh into his mouth.
The party officially began—a soulless, feelingless, inhumane sex party focused solely on sex. He was just a plaything;
what human rights? His existence was only to satisfy men's desires.
Just a plaything.
The others who weren't participating gathered in twos and threes to chat, mostly discussing his performance. Different
voices entered his mind through his ears, but he couldn't understand anything. He just let the men thrust into his body in a daze,
his consciousness already far away.
In the darkness, he saw himself chasing a little boy. He ran and ran, but he couldn't catch up with
the boy who was so close. "Brother, wait for me..."
"Pervert! Don't touch me!" Just as he finally grabbed the boy's hand, he turned around and saw his brother's
face. A sharp voice came from his twisted mouth.
"Ah—" A stinging pain shot through his body, like someone was stabbing his nerves with a sharp knife and tearing them apart.
His anus, which was already filled with a man's penis, was forcibly widened. A thick, red and black object was aimed at his anus, ready for both of them to enter at the same time
. The pain of the forced entry made his body tense up. Two men slapped him simultaneously. "Damn it! You
slut, so tight!"
Blood and saliva slid from the corners of his mouth, and semen, bodily fluids, and blood flowed from his anus… The man finally succeeded in entering
, his lower body hardened by two enormous penises, his anus stretched ridiculously, a clown-like, twisted smile… With a
sway of his waist, his stomach churned, and he felt dizzy.
The doll had no heart, no tears, no emotions… His unfocused eyes only begged for it all
to end quickly, to end…
He wanted to cry for help, he really wanted to shout…
"Brother! Save me…"
Whose heat was in his mouth, whose hand was caressing his body, whose desire was penetrating his lower body
… Father, master, brother, the faces of various men repeated and separated, over and over again…
Who were they…
And who was he himself?
One thrust, consciousness drifted away and was pulled back… The men’s torture continued, white, chaotic liquid gushing
onto his body, anus, mouth… floating in a stinking ocean of lust.
Perhaps this was the beginning, or perhaps the end…
(12)
Time seemed to stand still; everything had happened, yet it was as if it had never occurred. Only the sound of panting filled the air as
different men took turns entering his body, thrusting, stopping, withdrawing… an endless cycle.
How long had this continued? It was impossible to calculate the passage of time. His memories were only of wakefulness
and unconsciousness, tranquility and noise, being stuffed full or empty… but all of it held no meaning for him anymore
.
He didn't care who was penetrating his body, nor did he care if there were three or four men inside him, what positions, what
props, what desires, loves, and hates—"You fucking do what you want, don't bother me."
No matter how they penetrated him, he remained a silent puppet, occasionally letting out a muffled groan, but mostly
just swaying quietly with the men's movements, only the faint sound of his breathing proving he was still alive.
Now, it wasn't that he was silent out of fear of being scolded, but that there was no need for words. Even if he shouted
and begged for mercy, no one would offer a helping hand. Crying was just a hope for comfort; since
he wasn't human, there was no need for sorrow.
Everything was still, even the sounds and images were just endlessly repeating the scenes of his humiliation. Was
the person being brutally penetrated really him? Who was he?
What else could be taken away? He still had his eyes, ears, mouth, nose, hands, feet, and internal organs—was he fortunate? But if he lost
his "self," everything would be reduced to ashes.
The men's conversation continued unabated, like a music tape playing on repeat 24/7. They listened,
but it was all meaningless. Only one word kept appearing: "Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb..."
Everyone jokingly called him "dumb" because no matter what they did, he wouldn't cry or shout. They were
curious to know just how much pain a person had to endure before they couldn't help but beg for mercy.
The men tried lifting his feather-light body and thrusting his penis into his burning hot anus,
the penis entering his entire body in one go. They lifted him up again and thrust in again, his anus swollen and red from the repeated thrusting
. The men were exhausted, yet he still smiled blankly.
The man forced an excessive amount of aphrodisiac into the boy's body, then shackled his hands and feet with iron handcuffs, leaving him
lying there quietly. When the drug took effect, he would struggle violently, leaving marks on his body from the iron handcuffs, and
he would ejaculate repeatedly, but without excitement, pain, shame, or pleasure… no expression whatsoever.
The man didn't feed him for two days, only allowing him small amounts of water, yet he continued to live as if nothing was wrong, until
the man angrily forced him to eat an excessive amount of food, which he then vomited up. Even when the man
ordered him to eat the vomit back up, he silently prepared to comply, but the man angrily kicked him away,
calling him a "disgusting bastard."
They all doubted whether this boy was still a "human being"; he seemed more like a walking corpse.
What could possibly elicit a reaction from him, make him afraid, tense, uneasy, or humiliated…?
For the men, not being able to make the person beneath them cry and beg for mercy was the greatest insult. Especially his master,
when he looked at him, his eyes were filled with disgust and hatred. You hateful slave, you are not a plaything at all, you have made
him lose face.
Until one day at a party, the doorbell of his suite rang! The sound of the bell seemed to
turn everything back on track, his eyes opened in surprise, as if death was standing in front of him.
No, he might laugh at the word death, but now he just wished he did not exist in this world.
He only left the address of the small suite with his family. The only person who would come to see him was him... his
brother, whom he loved very, very much, but who hated him very, very much.
The master saw the slave's abnormal behavior and showed a smile that was rare in recent days. Are you scared? Do you want to run away? Hehehe
... You can feel the fear and trembling of this bastard now! Hahahaha... I am so happy!
"It seems you have a visitor, how about we invite him in to play together?"
(13)
Even the vibrating massage stick in his anus was probably not enough to make him tremble so badly at this moment. No, no, I
can't let them hurt my brother! With a strength that seemed to come from nowhere, before anyone could react, he jumped out of bed, opened
the door, and rushed to the front door, not caring about his appearance. His
naked body was covered in marks of lust, wounds and hickeys crisscrossing his skin,
a work of art brimming with eroticism. The vibrator in his anus throbbed restlessly, its mechanical whirring sound like a wanton moan.
This body, played with by countless men… was about to…
"What are you doing here!" Yongcun coldly asked the person outside, opening the door. Even though he saw how happy the person outside was
, how much they wanted to rush into his arms, begging him to take them away from hell,
he could only push himself deeper into hell, with his own hands.
"Father's in the hospital, and you..." The young man, who had been keeping his head down, finally turned to glare at his younger brother,
only to be met with a shocking and disgusting sight. "You, you disgusting monster! Don't come any closer! Don't ever come back!!"
There was something stuck in his chest, and on his body... He'd known he was a prostitute, but he hadn't expected him to be
so despicable! He looked at his brother, his eyes devoid of pity or sympathy, let alone love. He
felt only intense disgust. This filthy, despicable person—don't tell anyone he was related to him by blood, no...
don't even let anyone discover his existence.
Homosexual, enjoys being with men, did *that* with his father, and even says he likes me… It’s
disgusting, I feel like vomiting…
“I’m despicable.” Looking at his brother’s increasingly pale face, he suppressed the tearing pain in his heart and forced himself
to utter his final words, “Don’t you realize you used this kind of filthy money to study in graduate school? And everything you eat and use
comes from me.”
A twisted smile appeared on his face as he approached his brother step by step. Forgive me, I can only save you this way.
“Being with men is shameful? Let me tell you, it’s incredibly pleasurable. I’ll let you experience that ecstasy too
…”
“Pervert!” He kicked his brother hard in the stomach, retreating as he said, “Don’t ever show your face again
. Our family doesn’t need a slut like you!”
Watching his brother disappear from his sight, he finally collapsed to the ground, powerless. The vibrator in his anus
penetrated even deeper with the movement. He spat out a mouthful of blood, hearing footsteps behind him. "Don't worry... I'll never have the chance
to appear before you again, dear brother."
His master had been kind to him, not appearing before his brother. He could have taken him in front of his brother. Haha,
it doesn't matter anyway.
He let his master pull his hair, his lower body dragged along the ground as he was led back to the room. Seeing his master's bloodthirsty eyes
staring at him madly, he closed his eyes contentedly, awaiting the final moment.
What more could he ask for? His last shred of self-respect and soul had been trampled underfoot, personally abused.
Leaving without any regrets was wonderful, so joyful. After all, in the end, he was the one being anticipated.
Born without any expectations, yet dying amidst the expectations of thousands. How touching, so
many people would be happy with his death. He was still somewhat useful...
Finally dragged to the room, the man forcefully threw him back onto the bed, locking his legs wide open to the sides. The master gently
grasped his penis, his fingers cold and tender. Ah, this was a final burst of energy.
"Everyone, come and admire this. The beauty of a man having his penis forcibly cut off..."
He felt the tip of the knife slowly pierce his most vulnerable spot. The dirty piece of flesh, touched by himself and the stranger, always bound
and swollen, and pierced with a ring, was oozing bright red blood, about to be
separated from his flesh and bone. It must be such a beautiful sight, the blood accompanying the final journey, perhaps a half-sigh as
a lament.
The pain of the nerves being cut finally plunged him into darkness after he took a breath. Probably
no chance to open his eyes again, that's fine... He had nothing worth cherishing,
not even the things he wanted to see one last time.
Brother, would you be happy to see this? Actually, I'm really sorry, really sorry to have fallen in love with you.
(14)
Snow-white, a vast expanse of white... Where is this? Is it hell with the appearance of heaven?
The tearing pain jolted him awake, reminding him that he was probably still alive… The events before he fell unconscious
played back in slow motion. Since he couldn't die, it meant he had to continue living… Suppressing his fear,
he pulled back the covers to examine his body.
He stared in disbelief.
White bandages covered his body, the marks of careful wrapping… Who, who would
bandage the wounds of a sex slave? He then realized he was in an elegant room, predominantly white, with everything
designed for comfort, including the soft bed and warm blankets.
It truly deserved to be called a "room."
Suddenly, he realized someone had saved him… After he gave up everything, someone had saved him. Did this
mean he wouldn't be a slave anymore… He wouldn't have to live that inhuman life anymore? Who, who was it
…?
The door opened, but the backlight obscured his face.
"Brother…" He opened his mouth to speak, but found his throat too dry to utter a sound.
The man finally approached the bedside. Sure enough… it wasn't his brother. This was a strange man who felt vaguely familiar.
If he remembered correctly, this man seemed to attend every "party," but he never insulted him or
spoke to anyone else… He seemed like a man enveloped in loneliness, which was why he remembered him.
"Awake? Don't move, you're still very weak." A gentle, spring-like voice brushed past his ear. How long had it been since
anyone had treated him so tenderly… No, it seemed like the first time anyone had treated him like this… except for his brother from back then.
Holding a glass of water, the man gently pulled him into his arms, letting him lean his weight against his chest, and
only after making sure he was sitting securely did he press the glass closer. He obediently opened his mouth and drank the water, the cool sensation like a rebirth.
After putting the glass down, the man helped him lie back on the bed, silently tidying his pillows and blankets. He
said nothing. The man was someone who had appeared at the "party," but he was different from the master or his father...
"My name is Liu." As if knowing his question, the man spoke again in his beautiful voice, "You can
rest well here... Sleep peacefully."
Hypnotically, he really did slowly close his eyes and fall asleep. He didn't dream of being abused, nor did he need
to comfort his wounded heart with past events. For the first time, he slept peacefully.
He had nothing to be afraid of anymore, didn't he? He had nothing left to lose, even if Liu was trying to abuse
him. And for no reason, he wanted to get closer to this man. Perhaps it was because for the first time, someone made him
feel loved.
The days seemed to pass quickly. Gradually, he got used to life here. Liu rarely came, but he always sent people to take care
of him. He spent his boring time reading or sitting blankly. He still ate very little and hardly spoke,
but his face began to show some expression, especially when the man came.
Earlier, Liu had personally changed his dressing. After the layers of bandages loosened, he saw that his body was still
"completely intact," and he couldn't help but feel so moved that he wanted to cry. Although he now had an ugly scar that was 6 cm long and half an inch deep
.
It turned out that he was still afraid...
He silently looked at the man who was taking such good care of him. He had actually managed to save him from his crazed master
. He had actually saved him like this... Liu lowered his head and gently lifted his penis with the strength of someone holding a fragile object, and placed
a feather-like kiss on it. "It doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt anymore."
Something inside him seemed to be rapidly collapsing. He knew that he would be willing to give anything to get Liu's smile.
When Liu stepped into the room, he almost couldn't control the urge to rush towards him, although his face remained calm and
expressionless. Liu walked to his side and familiarly hugged him.
"Are you settling in alright?" Liu gently stroked his hair, like comforting a child. Seeing him nod, she
happily kissed his cheek. "Is there anything you need? Like, anyone you want to see...?"
He opened his mouth slightly, intending to say "brother," but then remembered his status and immediately lowered his head and shook it.
Liu pinched his cheek. "Little liar, don't you like your brother a lot? Don't you want to see him?"
"Is...is it okay?" He looked up in surprise, staring at the man in disbelief. How could anyone be
willing to treat him so well?
"You like him a lot?" Hearing the man's question, he hesitated about how to answer... In the end, he bit
his lip and nodded, "Then, of course you can see him."
His eyes were filled with tears, and for the first time, he smiled in front of Liu's face, a faint, shy, genuine smile.
(15)
In the center of the magnificent dining room was an oversized long table, and the two men sat at the left end, looking at each other.
His health had improved a lot, and the doctor said he could walk around a bit, so Liu invited him to dinner. For the first
time, the master and the slave were sitting at the same table and eating the same dinner.
Actually, Liu didn't treat him as a slave...? Was he being too greedy to think that way? He couldn't
help but blush and his heart was pounding. He kept secretly looking at the person sitting opposite him. The man who met his gaze returned a
gentle smile and said softly, "Eat up, you need to eat more, you're too thin."
His heart was pounding, and he hurriedly looked away, but was stung by the hard shell of the lobster in his mouth. The man immediately came around,
asking with heartache, "What happened? You were so careless."
His vision blurred with emotion; how could he think the man was smiling so happily?
He shook his head, put down his food, and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Glancing at the man inadvertently, Liu
's gaze was fixed on that spot of blood, his eyes twisted with madness.
A sudden tightness gripped his heart; a terrible thought arose—could it be…?
"I…I'll go cut some fruit, okay?" Liu nodded in agreement, reverting to his gentle demeanor, and reminded him to be
careful.
The blade of the fruit knife brushed against his index finger; he gritted his teeth and slashed hard, then broke the glass plate beside him.
The sound of shattering glass successfully attracted the man's attention. When Liu entered the kitchen and saw the dripping blood on his finger, he
immediately turned on the tap without a word, forcefully grabbing his hand and placing it under the running water.
Silently watching the man, he finally grasped the common ground between him and other men. Everyone has desires
, but this man didn't crave sex; he was bloodthirsty.
The bright red color excited his heart, bringing him pleasure that surpassed tender meat, sweet wine, and a wild body. Just
the crimson blood was enough to make this man happy.
Who could be gentler to him than Liu? He had said he was willing to give anything for a man's smile; he wanted this
man to be happy!
He pressed his fingernails hard against the wound, making the blood flow even more fiercely. Each drop that seeped out was immediately washed away by the water. Not enough,
not nearly enough. Looking at this small wound, even he felt dissatisfied; how could a man possibly find it enough?
He withdrew his hand, turned off the tap, walked to the side, picked up a fruit knife, and slashed at his left wrist
, which was covered in wounds. Blood stained the tightly wrapped gauze in an instant. Liu watched this scene in astonishment, then hungrily took
his hand, tore off the bandage, and brought it to his mouth, licking, biting, and sucking. The man, his face stained with another's blood
, was now enjoying a delicious and luxurious feast.
"Ah, um..." The man's movements aroused his lust; the blood being sucked felt like the sweetest caress
. He writhed, his free right hand restlessly pulling down the man's pants. The two slowly retreated until his
body leaned against the kitchen counter, his legs wrapped around the man's waist, his hands guiding the burning penis into his own.
The two men intertwined in the kitchen, one contentedly caressing his bloodied wrist, the other
swaying his slender waist in ecstasy. Though united, they were practically separate, each engaged in their own sexual act. Until
his semen splattered onto Liu's abdomen, the man sighed and released his already bloodied wrist.
The body that had satisfied countless men, it turned out, needed a man to satisfy it too. But different, voluntary sex
was nothing like forced rape.
And this man is good to him, it's rare for someone to be good to him... Give me 1 point, I'll satisfy you 100
points...
"Do you like it?" Holding the man's head and panting, he sat on the kitchen counter, looking down at someone for the first time
. He lowered his head and kissed the lips that still had blood on them, and Liu kissed him passionately. He tasted the taste of his own blood
, fishy and sweet, no wonder Liu liked it...
Hehe... Finally someone is willing to kiss me, someone is willing to love me... Hehe, hehehe...
(16)
"Ah ah..." This is the pleasure of shouting during sex... It's really good, shouting out everything,
venting to the fullest.
The pristine white room was now filled with the lingering, pungent stench of blood. Everywhere bore the marks of blood, both deep and shallow.
The bedding and sheets, needless to say, bore the indelible marks of repeated acts of passion and the baptism of blood.
The carpet, sofa, curtains… everything that could be stained was stained; wherever lust had passed, a vivid crimson
memory remained.
His legs, tightly wrapped around the man's waist, were the most beautiful masterpiece of bloodstains: a cut from the left side of his neck to his waist,
a cross-shaped mark from his right chest to his buttocks, forming a large "X"; the circular marks on his hands were made by
wrapping special fish silk several times and pulling it tight, some so deep they reached the bone, with bits of flesh scattered from the previous encounter; his legs were the most beautiful,
each one a masterpiece of carving, each stroke added as the inspiration struck, a work of art of nature.
A supreme work of art, a pale face covered in red and black wounds… anyone who saw it would likely either
gasp or scream and faint… Ah, the center of attention.
Several places dripped blood, including the anus tightly gripping the man's penis, where blood pooled in
a small puddle. You might think, "What if we kept a fish in there?" A stonefish, perhaps...fighting fire with fire.
He sat heavily on the man's erection, wildly swaying his hips. Nothing was more important, more
interesting, more perfect, or more noble than sex. His right hand gripped his own penis, rubbing it vigorously, like putting packaged food in a microwave,
watching it slowly heat up and swell until finally, with a "pop," it was cooked.
Pools of dark red blood drove people mad, or perhaps only madmen were captivated by the dark red of blood.
He found the razor blade on the bedside table, and continued swaying, making new cuts. The anus tightened, squeezing the man
's desire, the increasingly narrow passage containing the ever-growing penis. The pleasure numbed his senses yet heightened them further.
His hand unconsciously tightened, pulling at the razor blade embedded in his muscle.
It wasn't that he didn't bleed uncontrollably, but just when he thought that dying like this might not be so bad, he was always
held back by the man's gentle care. That damned man has a dual personality.
He must have a split personality too.
Gently telling you to rest easy, no one will bully you, yet the moment you see blood, you pounce and
drink it all.
Shamefully pleading, "Please let me go, stop doing this to me," yet always clinging tightly to the man's waist, thrusting forcefully, lest
you die.
Intoxicated by lust, enjoying the pleasure between life and death, succumb to the crimson hell that devours everything.
"Come on, let's play something fun." His right hand still tightly grips the penis, that swollen, disgusting thing! The blade falls mercilessly,
slicing open and picking it up, leaving another beautiful mark 6cm long and half an inch deep.
Injuries in order to please Liu Huan are not injuries, this is love. Wanting you to be happy, so I hurt myself, I will
do this until my eyes can no longer open.
"How come I never knew you had such an arrogant side?" The moment of climax arrives,
everything he did was for this one kiss, his tongue like a snake sliding in, chasing, intertwining, separating, and then closing again, their lips parting
with not only saliva but also semen to enhance the moment.
"Because I'm only crazy for you."
A light kiss slowly landed on his eyes, ears, nose and mouth, and today's story came to an end. The gentle prince was about
to leave, leaving only the long-haired girl to continue waiting, and the master climbed onto his body again.
"I am so honored, so honored that I want to give you the most precious treasure in the world." The man made a promise, but forgot that there was one thing
that had not been fulfilled.
"I want him, my brother." He only had his brother, not his older brother, his dear "brother".
He could not forget everything that had been done to him that day. Let you try it too, and see what this body that has been trained
tastes like.
I want you to know that even a slut can be wanted, and can also get a kiss! It's just a kiss...
...What you were unwilling to give back then, you will take back now.
If you knew that the reason you were about to suffer cruel treatment was just because you did not give your beloved younger brother a
kiss, would you regret it so much that you could not extricate yourself...
You will definitely regret it, for your own sake!
(17)
How long has it been since you wore a proper set of clothes? Today he was dressed up, and his scars were hidden under the fabric. He hadn't made love for a month for today
. It was to let his wounds heal, and more importantly, to finally have a good time with his brother
. A body that hadn't released its pent-up desires for a month…
for, hehe… his dear brother.
It had been so long. He smiled and greeted his brother, who was bound and kneeling on the ground. The other didn't respond,
only trembling with fear.
He pulled out his belt and lashed it without thinking. He knew all too well the pain of flesh being torn apart,
the feeling of blood slowly seeping out after being burned…
Why wasn't he speaking? Didn't anyone teach you that not responding when your master asks a question is impolite? You… this damned
plaything!
"Plaything…?" he murmured, probably not understanding. The man was so terrified he could only tremble and struggle.
"Yes! Plaything." He raised a sweet smile, looking arrogantly at the humble figure. Now you're
begging at my feet, the one who looked down on me back then.
"You're such a joker! Don't you even know who you are? You're the one who's a lowly plaything!"
The belt lashed through the wind, striking flesh heavily. Everything was silent, so quiet. "You hate people who chatter incessantly.
Have you forgotten what my father told me before?
He said, 'If you dare to speak, I'll kill you.'"—Why, when I was seven, didn't he have sex with me?
Why didn't he kill me sooner?
"You…what do you want! I'm your brother…you, you can't…"
Fear filled his voice. He knew it wasn't a joke, and desperately tried to appeal to his brother's emotions.
"I remember you said, 'I only have one younger brother. He was innocent and adorable, but he died a long time ago.'"—
The summer of my fifteenth year, I'll never forget, tragically surviving…If I hadn't been discovered, I wouldn't have had to go to
the hospital, and this misfortune wouldn't have continued.
" "I…I'm sorry, I didn't really mean it…"
He silently approached, squatting down in front of his brother. Gently cupping the other's face, he stroked it tenderly. Did it hurt?
His brother's expectation returned, and he nodded pitifully. He smiled cruelly and slapped him twice with his backhand.
Why didn't he say, "Don't touch me! You pervert." -- On my twenty-first birthday, you gave me the best
gift. The burning candle couldn't burn me, and the group of strange men couldn't kill me... Actually, I should have angered my master
a little more, or I could have been freed.
"You, calm down. Don't you love me very much... I, I love you too..."
With the sound of clothes tearing, fragments slowly fell. He tore open his own clothes. His body, covered in wounds
and not a single intact piece, was exposed to his brother.
-- Do you love me, this body... Seeing this disgusting body, will you be excited? Will you want to have sex with me
...?
Smiling, he stepped forward and took off his brother's clothes, grasping his penis, which was limp and unresponsive.
-- Look at you, how can you satisfy me like this, or...
Spreading the man's legs, he pushed his desire inside, inexperiencedly letting blood stain his virginity
.
—My master once said that only blood can be a brand, forever remembering who inflicted the humiliation upon
me. Slowly advancing, it was never enough; I didn't like having sex with men at all.
—Guess how many men have slept with this body, and how many at the same time?
Even at increased speed, I felt no emotion, only the flesh constantly colliding, colliding… —Aren't
the scars on my body beautiful? They were all made for Liu… He was willing to kiss me,
you know?
Finally, he grabbed my brother's penis and took out a small knife from his pocket.
—Do you know, the day my father went to the hospital, my "here" was almost cut off.
"Give me a kiss, and I'll set you free, how about it?"
He cupped my brother's face in his hands and pressed his lips to his, but my brother forcefully turned his head away. Through gritted
teeth, he forced out, "Don't even think about it, I'd rather die."
How could I speak of death so easily? You have absolutely no understanding of how I've been living…
You have no idea what "a kiss" means to me.
He withdrew from the man's body and cut the ropes binding him with a knife. Let everything end...
let it be over.
He handed the knife to his brother, and finally, tears streamed down his face.
"If I were still that innocent little boy at seven, would you love me?"
The wind of memory was so cool, like his brother's gentle hand. He always held my hand and said, "Little brother, I love you the most, I
will protect you." Do you remember? Every night before bed, you would give me a goodnight kiss and say it would last forever.
[The End]
Ah, I forgot to say... my only mistake and expectation were helplessness.
Helplessness is the mistake born in this world; the helplessness of hoping someone would end everything for me.
Epilogue: The
initial title of "Plaything" was "Without Love," a product of emotional venting. It accompanied me for over a month;
three weeks were spent thinking about the plot, and the rest was spent writing and abusing.
Originally, it was just venting. But as the plot progressed, I wanted to convey not just the pain of life, but also
the helplessness. Even in pain, one must live on.
I changed the ending of "Playthings," the tone shifted when Yongcun met Liu.
In the end, it seems I still killed him off. This was my only act of mercy.

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[Playthings] Author: kaze风

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