Kinnporsche, Volume 4, page 14
“Oh… I don’t have the heart to be rough with you anymore, Pete,” Vegas said. “But…I don’t want to stop. It won’t hurt, I promise. I’ll make you come.”
I squinted at him in suspicion. I’d never heard him sound like this; he was practically pleading with me. His eyes were full of an unfamiliar gentleness. I was still scared enough to shiver slightly.
I reached down and grabbed a pillow to cover my face. Fuck! I should have known that this would happen again, but I couldn’t believe that my body was responding to it!
Vegas’s mouth moved down to my chest again as his hands stripped away my pants. I bit my lip, knowing what would come next. His tongue dragged down to my belly; he nipped at it gently, not violently like before.
Vegas’s hand wrapped around me again and stroked. It was disgusting. Obscene. But another feeling emerged alongside my revulsion—pleasure.
I’d told Vegas I wouldn’t let him violate me like this again. But since I was still stuck here, I supposed I had to swallow my pride and get through this with as little pain as possible.
When Vegas rubbed a circle around the leaking tip of my dick, I bit my lip as hard as I could, trying to hold my voice back. It was uncomfortable. I wouldn’t dare finish off in Vegas’s room.
“Ugh…uhhh.”
It made sense that my shaft was so responsive to the stimulation. My heart thumped against my chest as Vegas’s hand worked and his lips glided down my thighs.
“Ughhh… Vegas,” I groaned.
My body began to writhe as Vegas skillfully stroked my cock. He lifted my legs and spread them apart. At this point, my mind became a blur. He picked up the pace with his wrist, his other hand brushing over my asshole. It made my body tingle from head to toe.
“Ughh…ugh.” I dug my nails into the pillow and held it tightly.
I flinched and gasped as I felt a sudden smear of cold liquid on my hole. I stiffened in fear, droplets of sweat forming all over my body, yet somehow, I craved his touch even more. It was so fucking confusing.
“Pete…I’ll be gentle,” Vegas told me, but I didn’t care what he said anymore. His hand moved diligently, making my dick ache with need. When he slipped a finger inside my ass, though, I immediately tensed up.
“Ow! That hurts!” I yelped.
Vegas pulled his finger out. “Pete…relax.”
He pulled away the pillow I was hiding my face with and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. At the same time, his hand kept stroking my dick. He showered my face with kisses before breaking away and squeezing out more lubricant onto his finger. He applied it to my asshole before slipping his finger back in.
“Ughh… Ngh…” I felt my ass getting fuller and my dick approaching an orgasm. I didn’t know when Vegas added another finger, but he soon hit a spot inside me that made my whole body squirm.
The pain slowly dissipated, leaving only the feeling of fullness, and…I started to…feel something so thrilling that I couldn’t hold back my voice any longer.
“Ahhh…” It felt different, so different that I couldn’t believe that this kind of sex—which I’d only experienced before as vile, disgusting torture—could feel this good.
Vegas’s hands picked up the pace until I couldn’t take it anymore. My mind went blank as my body spasmed and I came, spurts of white liquid painting my lower belly. I took in a big gulp of air, my heart pumping hard.
Vegas didn’t lose out on his own pleasure. He slid in between my legs and lifted them up, raising my hips above the bed. Wasting no time, he grabbed his dick—already sheathed in a condom—and slowly pushed the tip against my hole.
“Sss… Ahhh…” Vegas hissed and groaned as he shallowly thrust into me, sending another shiver through my body.
“Nngh… It hurts,” I said, my eyes tightly shut. Yes, it did hurt, and I felt full, but this wasn’t like the other times. It wasn’t the usual body-ravaging agony; what I was feeling now was so different that I couldn’t really describe it.
The fullness inside me felt hotter and hotter as Vegas pushed all the way in. I tried to control my breathing so I didn’t have to focus on what was happening down there. Without knowing why, I narrowed my eyes and watched Vegas. He wiped the sweat off his brow and bit his lip hard, as if he was holding back his movements.
Vegas looked down at me and gave a tiny smile before lowering his head to give me a light kiss on the temple.
“Good boy… Do as I say, and it won’t hurt.”
He stayed still inside of me, kissing me from my forehead down to my lips. He then straightened himself up, supported my hips with his hands, and slowly started to thrust.
“Nghhhhh…” I immediately reached out for something to hold on to; I found a pillow and dug my nails into it. As Vegas moved his hips back and forth, he tilted his head and moaned.
“Ahhhh… Ummmm.” I shut my eyes again when he changed his rhythm, the movements shifting between hard and soft. My heart hammered like it was going to explode. The feeling of fullness dissipated, and when Vegas hit my prostate again and again, it sent my body spasming for a moment. He softened his thrusts in response, but he still hit that same spot repeatedly.
“Ugh…you pervert.” I grabbed the pillow and threw it at him. When he saw that my dick was responding to him again, Vegas cracked a devilish smile. The way he looked at me was different now—it wasn’t threatening like before. Instead, it made butterflies flutter in my stomach.
Vegas proceeded to quicken his pace. One of his hands grabbed my hardening cock and stroked it along with his thrusts.
“Ahhhhh… Mmmm.”
We moaned together in harmony as my body rocked to Vegas’s rhythm. He was starting to lose control of his strength, his thrusts getting faster and more forceful, making my body feel hot all over. It was so exhausting, like I’d been running on a treadmill for miles, yet the pleasure poured over me nonstop. Every time I felt him move, I couldn’t control my reactions.
I bit my lip hard. “Mmm…Vegas,” I moaned, my voice trembling.
“Ssss… I l-love it when you call my name… I’m so close—ahh…”
I couldn’t make out a single fucking word out of Vegas’s mouth. He let out a deep groan. As he approached his climax, he leaned over, bracing himself on the bed and thrusting his hips even faster. His body was covered in sweat from the exertion.
My mind went blank, and my cock ached; then, I reached orgasm once again. But this time, I just wanted to pass out. I was so exhausted, and the allergy pill that Vegas gave me had doubled my drowsiness.
Vegas thrust a couple more times before he found his own release, then he pulled out and collapsed next to me.
We lay there panting, our hurried breaths heaving in concert.
“Are you all right?” Vegas pulled me into a loose hug.
“Define ‘all right,’” I panted, both my legs still trembling.
“Heh…” Vegas chuckled. “How did your innocent little cartoon turn into a porn?”
I gathered all my strength, rolled off the bed, and hurried toward the bathroom. You animal! You fucking jerk!
As I cleaned up and finally came back to my senses, I wanted to bang my head against the wall until I put myself out of my own misery. The fuck did I just do? Pete, you dumbass! You only agreed to do this absurd shit because your judgment was clouded by horniness! Baser urges were dangerous things. Ugh, Vegas, you shithead! I gotta scrub this stain off of me!
“Hurry up, Pete. I want to wash up too. If you take too long, I’ll join you in there.”
I gave the bathroom door the middle finger, but I did hurry up like he said to. I grabbed a towel off the floor and wrapped it around myself before I opened the door.
“Heh,” Vegas chuckled as he walked past me, entirely naked. He didn’t forget to look me in the eye and crack a shamelessly evil grin before he disappeared into the bathroom.
I quickly climbed into my pants, then jumped into the bed and buried myself under the blankets. What the fuck, Pete?! Fuck! What have you done, you freak?! Huh?! I mentally scolded myself. And what was wrong with Vegas, anyway? He was acting so damn weird! Too weird! It was getting suspicious!
I kept cursing at myself until the allergy pill and the exhaustion dragged me into a deep slumber. I didn’t even notice when Vegas left the bathroom.
The next time I opened my eyes, I saw him pacing back and forth between the bedroom and his office with piles of documents in his hands. I couldn’t bear to face him. What do I do? Fuck!
Vegas came back to the bedroom, this time with a tablet in his hand. I quickly lay back down and proceeded to throw the blanket back over my head.
“Pete! Stop pretending to be asleep,” he said casually. “It’s eight in the evening already. Time for dinner.” He reached out to pull the blanket off of me, but I held on to it tightly.
“No! I’m not hungry!”
“C’mon, hurry up. And I don’t have any instant noodles left, so don’t hold out on that hope if you get hungry later.” He laughed. What was so fucking funny?
“I’m not eating,” I said.
“Pete! Don’t make me count! One…two…”
“Aahhhh!”
I didn’t know why I was so scared of him counting, but as soon as he started, I instantly jumped out of the bed. I made a face at him and went over to sit down on the sofa, stomping heavily with each step.
On the coffee table was some of the Southern food Vegas had bought me. Even better, there were two plates of plain rice, steaming hot. Yeah, well, I was hungry…but I still couldn’t bear to face Vegas.
“Nop brought it over earlier in the evening, but you refused to wake up, so I had him reheat it.” Vegas sat down next to me and pulled one of the plates of rice toward himself.
I played with the rice on my plate, wondering if Vegas was going to eat with me.
“Which dish tastes the best?” Vegas asked, placing his arm on the headrest behind me. I could see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye, but I was too scared to face him directly. I couldn’t muster the courage to answer his question either.
“Pete?” Vegas called my name, but not harshly. I sighed and scooped one of the side dishes onto my plate.
“You haven’t eaten?” I asked him faintly as I grabbed the spoon and scooped food into my mouth.
“Not yet—I was waiting to join you.”
Why the fuck did he want to join me? These side dishes weren’t enough for the both of us. If I ran out of food, was he going to buy more for me? What a nosy, imposing little fucker.
But that was just a thought. A thought that would stay in my head because I didn’t dare utter it out loud.
“Let’s see… Which dish tastes good?”
Which dish tastes good? All of them. Fine, you wanna eat with me, huh? Ha ha! Take this!
I proceeded to pour sour yellow curry onto his plate. I even gave him a piece of shrimp—how generous of me.
He lifted his plate up to smell it, then slowly picked up a spoon. “It looks spicy.”
I pretended not to care and carried on eating with a smirk. Hee hee.
Vegas looked at it hesitantly for a while.
“Try it,” I told him, without looking up from my food.
“Fine.” Vegas slowly scooped up a small amount of rice and curry and prepared to put it in his mouth. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, feeling annoyed.
“Ugh! A small bite like that won’t give you any flavor. Give it to me!” I put my plate down and took his. I scooped up a spoonful of rice and curry, then held it up to his mouth. “Eat up,” I said.
Vegas’s lips tugged into a little smile, and he opened his mouth.
As soon as he chewed on it, the Southern chili paste started to work its magic. He choked and coughed, grabbing a glass of water to drink right away. Hah!
I put his plate down and continued eating mine. Serves you right, motherfucker! That’s the South for you, jackass! Don’t mess with us!
Vegas put the glass down and turned to scold me. “That was spicy as hell!”
“Well, you asked me which one tastes the best, and that one does,” I replied innocently and continued to eat.
Vegas resorted to eating the omelet instead. “Damn! Keep eating that shit, and I’ll laugh if you end up with a stomachache,” he muttered.
I’d eaten spicy food my whole life; I was used to it, shithead! What a sad little critter, actin’ all foolish. Just a bite of good ol’ Southern curry, and he starts cryin’ like a baby! Quit yer bellyaching. Don’t make me laugh!
Vegas huffed petulantly. “It did taste great, though,” he conceded. “Now I get why they say the South is hot—both its cuisine and its people. Heh.” Vegas leaned forward, his face so close that I had to move to the side to dodge him. Bastard.
I shot him an annoyed look. “The fuck are you saying?!”
Vegas leaned back, looking at his plate before cutting his omelet.
“‘I’ll never come for a bastard like you!’” Vegas mocked me, parodying my voice. I put my plate down and quicky drank my glass of water. Son of a bitch! Don’t you dare mention that disgraceful moment! I can’t take it!
“‘I’d rather let the maggots…’” Vegas mimicked me again.
I shot up from the sofa. “Hey, Vegas! What the fuck are you saying, huh?!” You little shit!
“Aww… Are you done eating?”
“I’m done!” I snarled before grabbing my towel and disappearing into the bathroom. Ugh! I’ll never let it happen again! I wouldn’t give in to Vegas’s advances. Maybe I’d let my hands slip and kill him by accident! If you dare to touch me again, I’ll kick your ass, you bastard! Go to hell!
After I showered, Vegas gave me more allergy medicine. He said that I’d be sleeping under the air conditioning, so I should take it just in case. Good—I wanted it to knock me out as soon as possible. I was tired of talking with this dickhead!
Once I got into bed, Vegas went to take a shower. As I was dozing off, I could sense someone hugging me from behind. I was so sleepy that I didn’t have the energy to resist him. How did I know it was Vegas? His unique scent hit me right in the nose.
Whatever. I’m just gonna sleep.
I didn’t want to acknowledge the ache in my heart.
***
The next morning, Vegas got Nop to bring breakfast: a simple bowl of congee. He sat on the sofa and ate with me. Once he finished, he got up to start working, but he didn’t do it in his office—instead, he carried in piles of documents and spread them all over the bed. Look at him, scattering his shit everywhere. I bet he’s gonna force me to make the bed tonight too.
What ghost was possessing him, anyway? What was going on in his head? Where had the demon wearing Vegas’s face gone today?
He lay on his stomach, working on the files in his binder, wiggling his toes cheerfully as he did so. This shithead has so many goddamn mood swings, he may as well be bipolar.
I sprawled out on the sofa with a book on my chest. If Vegas invited me to watch any fucking movies today, I would refuse entirely! I wasn’t going anywhere near him, so history wouldn’t repeat itself!
I’d really stopped caring about the sex, but what could I do? I was the captive here. Getting depressed over it wouldn’t help. But to go, “Whatever, I had sex with a man,” just like that? No.
I hadn’t gotten over that, but I was trying to see it as a part of life. Most human beings had sex at some point in their lives. I’d just ended up experiencing a different side of the sexual spectrum. Sigh…
I needed to put my time into figuring out my great escape plan. When was this motherfucker going to go outside?
I was letting go and accepting the truth, which might be thanks to reading all these books full of Buddha’s teachings over and over. It was almost as if I could hear the prayers constantly ringing inside my head. It gave me a weird sense of relief, like I’d been blessed… Ah, shit, I think I’m hallucinating. So I put the dharma book down and picked up a pop-psychology book instead: Your Personality Based on Blood Type.15
I had a lot of time to kill, and with Vegas here in the same room, I didn’t have many options. So having a book like this to distract me was at least a halfway decent entertainment.
Let’s see if it’s accurate. I’m type O.
“Smart and talented.” Obviously. “A little bit lazy, mostly optimistic, likes to be a giver rather than a receiver. Quick-tempered, but cools down fast. Not petty. Tends to be serious under certain circumstances.”
Was I like that? Hmm. To get a real answer, I needed to ask someone’s opinion of me and analyze that, right? People couldn’t really be objective about their own personalities. Should I ask Vegas?
I needed to know what he was thinking. If he was planning to kill me, I wanted to have time to prepare. I wondered what was on his mind that was making him act so weird lately. I didn’t ask him directly, because I feared he would refuse to answer. But using this book could be a good excuse to get into his head.
With that plan in mind, I called out to him, “Vegas?”
“Hm? What is it?” Vegas replied, his eyes fixed on his computer screen.
“What’s your blood type?” I asked.
“Me?”
Who else, dipshit? It’s only you and me here. Are you brain-dead? “Yeah.”
“AB,” Vegas said.
“Damn, that’s so cool,” I murmured. When I was a kid, I always wanted to be type AB. It was such a rare blood type; type O didn’t feel unique at all.
All right, let’s see, AB. What’s on his mind? I couldn’t figure him out at all, but maybe his blood type would illuminate me.
“Read it out loud for me,” Vegas said.
I made a face and skipped to the AB section. “Mysterious, like a secret waiting to be uncovered. Complicated. Lacks self-control—heh, this book is accurate!” I laughed out loud, unable to stop myself. “ABs hate illogical people, yet they are the illogical ones themselves.”
Vegas smiled a bit and shook his head. “Are you making that up to insult me?”
