Omori's Plaything (Stranger Bondage) Part 2

Omori stared at the tied-up stranger in the chair before him. His shiny knife was pointed at the boy’s anxious bulge, just barely hidden away beneath his pants. Every little sound, every shameful whimper from his mouth only aroused the light-skinned boy even more.

He slowly approached the dark boy, ignoring the muffled pleas of mercy that got louder with every one of his steps. Then, as his shadow loomed above him, he grabbed the boy's hair and clenched it tightly, before violently swinging his knife. The boy winced in fear, but when he opened his eyes…

Maybe getting cut open was the better option.

He looked down to his pants, now torn apart by a large gash that revealed his crotch. His exposed, erect member twitched in anticipation, as opposed to the stranger’s fear and anxiety.

Omori glanced at the boy’s excited penis. His mouth shaped into a wide grin, and he returned his gaze back up to his face: his mouth was bound; his eyes, silently crying in desperation and shame. But then…

The pale boy snapped his fingers. The sound echoed far into the horizon and dissipated like a thin mist.

Suddenly, the red ties wrapped around the stranger’s helpless body unfurled, and the hand that was once firmly locked onto his mouth vanished into nothingness. He fell to the ground, reduced to a sobbing mess on his hands and knees.

He was even robbed of the illusion of safety that the warm clothes around him created: now that they were gone, violently torn and ripped apart, all he could do was…

No.

No, there was nothing he could do. He tried to scream out, to yelp and to roar. But the only thing that came out of his mouth was his frigid, heavy breath… why? He wasn’t tied up, or forcefully silenced anymore. He should be able to run away and hide.

His endless stream of thoughts then came to an abrupt end. He heard a strange sound, similar to the sound of a piece of clothing falling to the ground. Omori grabbed the loose string of the red collar still wrapped around the stranger’s neck, and tugged it, forcing his head to quickly turn.

Before he could discern what was happening, he found himself taking the full length of the light-skinned boy’s member with his mouth.

Waves of emotions instantly rushed past the dark boy’s mind, he was still trying to understand what was going on. Was his mind so clouded, that he didn’t even notice Omori gently tugging down his shorts before forcing himself onto him?

He didn’t know just how much of an idiot he was. Yet, he finally realized - this monster could not be saved anymore.

The stranger tried to fight back, as hard as he could. He wanted to claw away at the boy’s skin, but he could not muster the strength to. He couldn’t bear this torture, of having his body be so rashly defiled and his mouth used for Omori’s own pleasure.

Omori kept rocking the stranger’s head up and down his shaft, his lips swerving around his penis and coating it in saliva. His bouts of immense pleasure, however, were cut short when he noticed tears welling up in the dark boy’s helpless eyes. Smiling, he opened his mouth and, to the boy’s surprise, he spoke:

“What’s wrong…? Why are you crying?”

“I thought you wanted to help me.”

He was right, at least, in his mind he was. The strange boy had sworn to help Omori, or whoever it was that hid behind that apathetic husk, with any means necessary. So, why was he objecting to this? It was odd. Not that it mattered much, anyways.

The more Omori was overtaken by his lust and his primal instincts, the further away the truth strayed away into the darkness. That was the only thing of importance to him.

He kept forcing the shaded boy to move his tongue around his shaft, to savour the tip and lick off his precum. As he did, with his free hand that gripped the silver knife, he slowly cut more and more pieces of the boy’s tattered clothing, exposing and stripping him further and further, while making sure not to harm his delicate skin.

Eventually, he saw a bit of precum forming on the dark boy's penis too and, with his constant, searing smile, he violently jerked the boy's head away from his member and forced him onto the ground again. From the darkness, a crimson hand appeared that wrapped around his tip, cruelly denying him of his much-needed release.

The naked boy was choking on his own tears, desperately trying to puke and gag the disgusting fluids that Omori forced into him, all the while a blood-red arm was tightly latched to his privates. But, once more, he couldn't. Everything that the boy did to him, made him feel as if he was closer and closer to giving in.

With a defeated, anguished expression upon his face, he turned to Omori again. The latter’s thirst was not quenched, however. As long as it promised to distance him from the truth and from the reality he had to face, he was happy with letting his own lust take him over. Yes, he could see it in his eyes. A burning desire for… more.

Omori walked over to him, and tugged on his crimson collar once more, muffling his whimpers.

He clasped the stranger’s dark arm and violently shoved him to the ground. Now, he was forced to grovel on his knees. Naked, subjugated, raped… It was about to get far worse.

The shaded boy was powerless, his bare butt exposed to Omori’s lustful gaze. Omori placed his cold, pale hands on the stranger’s butt and squeezed it, prompting a mewl out of the helpless boy. To him, it was painful, bleak… yet his penis couldn’t help but keep passionately twitching. His tight hole was spread open, before he heard the light-skinned boy licking his lips, although he could not see it.

Then, it just… happened. Without warning or even any words to instill fear into the boy. Omori didn’t care about him to the point where he wasn’t even trying to make him feel impotent. It came naturally.

Omori’s hips clashed against the stranger’s: light and dark, dominant and submissive, they all collided violently. The shadow figure weeped in pain, but the other boy, in pleasure. With a fast, animalistic motion, Omori thrust into his small hole with his excited penis, never once stopping, like he was in a trance. He kept going, and going, carelessly, the boy’s pleas and gut-wrenching screams as irrelevant as the fleeting wind. With every thrust, he could feel himself getting happier and more… lost.

Teased by the crimson hand around his penis, the stranger came uncomfortably close to climaxing, a feeling which the other boy shared. So, losing himself in the boy’s hole, he grabbed his arm again to hold on and kept violently rocking him for several more minutes, trying to draw his climax as far away as possible.

Even then, he had to release his pent-up pressure at some point. Saliva dripped out of his mouth, his eyes were shut from the sheer pleasure, but it had to come to an end. He couldn’t delay himself much longer.

Omori passionately thrust even deeper into the stranger’s hole, his tip interacting with the boy’s pleasure spot. And when it did, he finally emptied his load within him, coating his insides with his warm seed and staining them white, the same color as he.

He pulled out, leaving his cum-stained messy slave on the ground, who also released his fluids on the ground at the same time.

With his mind cleared of lust and pressure, Omori’s emotions morphed just as quickly. He looked to his own hands, and then to the shaded figure to his knees, and felt… disgust. He was revolted. Was he disgusted at the boy, or to himself, for even doing something like this to someone he so fervently despised?

Ironically, despite their differences, the strange boy’s feelings were quite similar. He too felt repulsed, but solely to himself. Why was his member so aroused by it? Why was his subconsciousness telling him that this act was good, that it was pleasuring, even though it obviously wasn’t? Why did he enjoy something so awful? Was he no better than the monster he tried to face?

The collar around his neck and the red hand around his penis both suddenly disappeared. Confused, he looked up to stare into Omori’s eyes, which showed as much resentment as his own. Without saying a single word, the light-skinned boy spat on the disgusting figure below him, and walked off into the darkness; bothered, concerned, loathing. So many things he felt, that a boy like him shouldnt've had to feel.

Omori disappeared into the darkness, the tendrils of the abyss claiming him and bringing him to who knows where. Wherever he went, however, must be far happier than this dark prison the shadow boy found himself in against his desire.

Unable to weep, nor to laugh; to speak or to smile, his violated, raped body collapsed onto the ground, swathed in the darkness that surrounded him. So many emotions were running through him, that he was now unable to discern them at all. He was just… miserable.

He tried to bring Omori out of his shell, to make him happy again, to not have him hide behind falsehoods and façades to be truly content with his life.

But, once again…

He failed.

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Pub: 19 Dec 2021 21:18 UTC
Views: 455