Omori's Plaything (Stranger Bondage) Part 1

Darkness is all that he saw, all that enveloped his black eyes.

Surrounding Omori was an infinite, black void that stretched into the horizon. The only things that stood out were his white hands; they contrasted with the environment around him and served as a faint light.

He would’ve felt lost, confused… if he could’ve even felt anything anymore.

Was this it? Was this the end, the bottom of the pit of escapism that he willingly threw himself into?

No, it cannot be. It simply couldn’t.

He needed an escape from his pain - besides, that was his purpose - and if there was a bottom to this abyss, then the light would eventually have shone upon it. And force him to remember.

Yet - what could he have done? What better way to escape your misery and remain ignorant than to literally seal yourself in a black void forever?

Then, it hit him… the most powerful form of escapism there is.

Lust.

Suddenly, he heard shaking and rustling behind him. He turned around, and what was before him?

It was a simple wooden chair, with multiple red ropes wrapped around it. But tied to this chair, much to his surprise, was a bright-eyed figure he found familiar. Sure, it was covered in the same darkness that characterized the limitless space around him, but it was as if those white eyes of his were telling Omori a thousand different things.

The person’s struggling and twitching were muffled by the boy’s own thoughts, as he marched closer to the chair. It didn’t take him long to figure out who this mysterious figure was.

Yes - it was… that stranger. That idiot who had, time and time again, tried to shatter Omori’s otherwise complacent world and bring him out of his shell.

He had caused much distress to the boy, but now, here he was. Tied, groveling… powerless.

Omori reached the chair, and loomed above the dark figure. Finally, the utmost enemy to his peace had been reduced to a helpless slave, and the boy couldn’t help but admire it. It gave him immense pleasure. Like…

…like something in his brain had just clicked, and he was finally feeling things. Things that he had never felt before.

A manic grin formed on his face as he clutched the knife in his right hand. However, the huge swarm of thoughts that were churning in his head were interrupted by a soft, quiet voice. It came from the defenseless stranger below him, who was struggling to maintain his usual, stoic apathy.

“This infinite nothingness… Is it as dark as the deepest reaches of your mind, DREAMER? I’ve little hope for you. You peered into this place, into the night, and it broke you.” He spoke softly, still worthlessly struggling against his ties. As he continued, his voice was becoming quieter and quieter:

“Your mind is clouded. Yet, a gleam of hope still shines within you, contrasting the darkness. It keeps fleeting away - will you really let it? Will you sacrifice your opportunities and decay, rot here? Using me as a toy for your deepest fantasies and escap- MMPH!!”

The stranger’s quiet, yet painful voice was finally cut off, as a red hand appeared beside him and firmly wrapped around his mouth. Omori, still wearing a smile on his face, placed his own hand onto the black figure’s hair and tightly clutched it.

The façade of apathy that the dark boy’s true feelings were hiding behind shattered. Sweat began pouring down his cheeks, his eyes fluttering and his mouth wide agape, although he was still silent.

Another crimson hand suddenly appeared from the darkness, and approached Omori: it was holding… something that the dark stranger could’ve never imagined; a representation of the boy’s lust and deviancy.

The pale figure took the item - a shiny, red collar with a bell attached to it - out of the hand's palm; it then disappeared into the surrounding oblivion. He turned to the shaded boy, whose wide-open eyes seemed to represent a hundred different feelings, and ignored his obvious, silent pleas, wrapping the red collar around his dark neck and tugging it with the fine string that came out of it.

The words that once flowed so freely out of his mouth now simply wouldn’t exit his lips. He didn’t want to allow this monster to sink deeper into the abyss, to be even more depraved and barbaric than he already was. And yet, what choice was there for him now? He was so quick to judge the boy for his relentless lust, but the truth was, not even he ever saw this side of him. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He was at the mercy of the very being that could bend the world with his mind. For it was his dream - but for the stranger, it was a nightmare.

He couldn’t even make animalistic whimpers. He felt shortness of breath as the back of the collar pulled firmly against his neck.

But even that couldn’t compare to the horror he felt, when he saw the pale boy raise his knife and point it against his shoulder.

With a quick gash, the soft fabric of the stranger’s clothes was torn, revealing a stroke of his dim, bare skin from his shoulder to his belly. Omori spread his ripped clothes and looked at his hopeless face. Seeing him in such a weak and submissive state was just so… arousing.

Omori placed his white tongue against the stranger’s cheek and licked some of his sweat off, savouring it just as much as he savoured his nervous, scared face. Then, he rose again, and moved his face close to the other boy’s exposed shoulder.

Not waiting another second, he sunk his teeth into the soft skin of his shoulder, prompting a yelp out of the tied-up figure as he shuddered, unclear whether it was out of fear or pleasure. He swirled his tongue around, covering his shoulder in saliva. Omori then removed his teeth from the skin, which now had an oval-shaped red bite mark on it.

The stranger tried to hit the pale boy in the nose with his shoulder out of desperation, which didn’t anger him. He merely laughed, as if the dark boy before him was a mere caged animal trying to fight back against his master to no avail. He then dragged the red collar again, choking the shaded figure and forcing him quiet.

Omori continued, tracing a line of bites and kisses down the other boy’s exposed skin, from his collarbone to his nipples, going further and further down.

The happiness and passion he felt wasn’t prompted by love, or comfort. No, it was something that the otherwise-emotionless boy could never understand.

Eventually, his trail of saliva reached down to his tummy, where he once again buried his teeth deep into the soft skin, making the stranger mewl Omori’s name in a strange mix of terror and pleasure. He dotted his tummy in bite marks, like he was marking his territory. And yet, as beautiful and vulnerable as the shaded boy’s tummy looked, it wasn’t nearly as enthralling as something that Omori noticed just then.

He didn’t expect it, but it was a nice surprise, to say the least.

Partly covered by the red ties that wrapped around the boy’s entire body, was a tiny little bulge which poked against his still-intact pants, begging for air and to be let out. The figure soon noticed this too, and shakingly tried to cover it up, devolving into an embarrassed mess. Yet, he obviously couldn’t.

Omori watched in amusement as the boy’s bulge kept desperately pressing against his pants, growing ever bigger and almost breaching the cruel prison that were his shorts. Until, well, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

Exalted, he gripped onto his knife again and pointed it towards the tied-up boy’s crotch. He imagined the barrier of clothing gone, forgotten. And the best part? He could do to the stranger whatever he wanted and imagined.

It felt so… liberating. So good. That the boy was at his mercy, that he could do anything to him.

He was his, after all.

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Pub: 20 Dec 2021 20:54 UTC
Views: 431