Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I awoke to my boyfriend resting his head on my chest and cradling into my side. He wasn’t asleep, I could feel him gently tracing lines across the veins of my arm and squeezing my hand ever so slightly. When I began running my fingers through his hair, he looked up. 

“…good morning…” He said with hazy breath and tired eyes. We went out last night.

“Good morning,” I smiled down at him. He had just gotten his hair dyed yesterday, and I hadn’t grown accustomed to it yet. I picked pieces of his newly cropped bangs away from his face. My boyfriend was older than me, no one would ever let me forget that, but he was so adorable. “You can go back to sleep, baby.”

“I know, but… don’t you have to get up soon?”

“My alarm is supposed to wake me up, not you.” As I brushed his hair back, I bent down to kiss him on the forehead, “I do have to go, but I’ll be back soon. It’s just a photo shoot. A couple of hours. Sleep till I’m home.” 

He sighed. I turned and stretched my arm to the bedside table to reach my phone. My plan was to wake up at 6 am, get dressed, grab coffee and breakfast on the way, and be a bit early for hair and makeup. It was 5:30 now. I sank back. 

My boyfriend was such a worrywart. 

That’s why I don’t tell him the things people say about him online. He would only get anxious about them. 

I’ve censored and blocked dozens of terms in the comments sections of our videos, but sometimes unsavory things still get through. Plus, there are things I can’t monitor. I can’t control what anyone says about him when they are supposed to be talking about me in silly magazines or on dumb gossip websites. All I can do is tell him the good things and pet his head in bed. 

“Ah,” I kept talking to him since I know there’s no way he’s gone back to sleep so quickly, especially since I haven’t left yet, “They’re liking your new hair color!” 

He curled up, pulling on my shoulders, “Do… Do you like it?” 

“Of course I do, I picked it.” I beamed at him and sat up, tugging him onto my lap. At first, I thought about going with blonde, but then I ruled against it. Blonde is what people go with when they are trying too hard to recapture their youth. This bright orange, though, was still maybe too boyish on him. I wasn’t trying to make him look younger; he already looked younger than he was, in my opinion, anyway. No one would have been able to tell he was older than me if they didn't find out. It was just that when I saw all the colors lined up at the salon, I thought that this would be the most… cute. 

My hand was behind his head as I brought him in to kiss me. Chapped lips. I bite him all too often. My aftercare stinks, and he doesn’t care. 

Years ago, I said to him, “You’re really letting a younger guy take advantage of you? Do you enjoy being debased?” 

Now, I’ve almost completely restrained and confined him. I’ve gone way past defiling him. And I’ll always be seen as innocent. I think some people out there would even defend me if I killed him, which I would never do. But I think those weirdos who pay monthly to watch our videos and leave hate comments would say it’s justified. 

“Ma…!” 

“Tommy,” I reached down and rattled the cage around his pent up cock. “I do have to go soon.” 

“Masaki…” He exhaled, accepting that I was done with any kissing or touching right now. He was so good that it made me want to stay and tease him all day. “Good luck at work.” 

“Thank you,” I slipped him off of me and pulled the covers up. “I do want you to go back to sleep, seriously. You need to be rested for what we’re going to do later, got it?” 

He nodded, slinking lower and lying back down.

I tucked him in a little more, then, maybe selfishly, stole another kiss from his lips. “I love you.” 

“I love you more.” I laughed.

He probably did think he loved me more than I loved him, but there was no possible way. Even if all those things people said about him were correct, that he’s ‘a groomer’, ‘a predator’, and ‘a pedophile’, I would still love him. Because he’s mine. All mine. And no one is taking him away from me.

Chapter Text

“Oi! Oi! (Hey! Hey!)” I called out to a guy who was throwing up outside.

It was pretty early in the morning, just as I was heading to Saturday classes. I attended a private school. Well, it was almost time for graduation. And I had just recently been told I would be going to the United States after finishing Junior High. My father was from there. My father lived there my whole life. Their school calendar was different. I wondered if I had to repeat part of this school year, even though I was about to complete it, or would I just start with the second year of American high school in the fall?

The guy before me that morning, he was pretty, but he was barfing… and that was kind of disgusting.

“Daijōbu desu ka? (Are you okay?)”

I held out my handkerchief to him to clean off his face when he was done. If he took it and never returned it, that didn’t really matter. 

“What?” He grabbed his stomach, cleared his throat a little, and stood up to the best of his current ability. He saw the handkerchief and he took it, “Thank— Arigato…gozai…”

As he was struggling through the rest of the phrase, it became clear he was a foreigner. To me, he didn’t really look like one. At least not as much as I did. 

“English?” 

“Yes, yes, English please!” He nodded, wiping his face. “My, uh, my family is from here, but I’m not. My Japanese is terrible.” 

“Oh,” for the first time, I felt fortunate I had been studying so hard my entire life, “I’m moving to America soon. Are you from America? England? Austral—“ 

“America!” He gasped for air, grabbed his chest. Instinctively, I jumped back. If he was going to blow again, I didn’t want to be in the splash zone. He bent down over the railing again and dry heaved into his hand holding my handkerchief, but held back any more throw up.

“Are… are you drunk?” I asked. 

“Hungover.” He stumbled back up, wobbling. “I think… Those old men keep going and going…” he came a little closer to me, “Don’t you know how it is?” 

“Huh?” I laughed, crossing my bag over my shoulder so it wouldn’t fall, then holding my arms out to catch him if he did. “What do you mean?” 

His crossed face and scrunched up nose, despite looking like such a mess. I couldn’t believe I was witnessing it. About two years earlier, I had a crush on my science teacher who had cracked glasses and never tucked his shirt in right. I had thought it was amusing how he would yell at everybody, even though he could barely put himself together. Bringing a pompous man like that to his knees seemed fun, but the guy before me was just a disaster. And oddly enough, it lit a fire in me. The old science teacher couldn’t hold a Bunsen burner to him.

“Th-they… I think they liked…” He flopped forward, crashing into my body. He was taller than me, bigger too, but not so heavy I couldn’t hold him on an upright slant. “How—“ He hiccuped, “How young I was! So they must— love— you!” 

Chuckling, I told him, “I think I’m younger than you think I am. This is a school uniform.” 

“School…?” He head rolled toward me, “You’re— in high school? I thought you were only like— a year or two younger than me!” 

He was definitely still intoxicated; his speech was slurred, and his voice would randomly get high-pitched when he wasn’t hiccuping. He probably wasn’t seeing straight. To mistake me for a fully grown adult seemed ridiculous, but his confusion made me question if maybe he wasn’t that much older. 

“And how old is that? Are you in university?” 

“No… I graduated! In the winter!” 

I wrapped my hands under his arms and tried to hike him up a bit. I thought if I could just get him leaning on my shoulder, I could probably walk him home. He graduated university, which meant that at the closest we were probably still around 7 years apart. But in the winter in America made me think he might have finished early. “In the winter? Isn’t that unusual?” 

“Shut up!” He spat, then stared at me. Then I knew he must have graduated late.

“Huh?! Sorry… I didn’t mean to…” His distant gaze was embarrassing. 

“I really thought you were around 20, but,” He stood up straight, “I guess you are little.” 

I shook my head, as much to ignore his comment as to get the guilty thoughts out of my head. I was wishing I hadn’t told him the truth. I could have deceived him. When he looked at me, I thought maybe I should have taken him home and taken him to bed, taken advantage of him, and he would have never known. 

“Where do you live?” I patted my shoulder for him to lean on, “Come on, I'll walk you back.” 

“Um… I don’t know the exact address, and I can’t remember where…?” He cringed, “I know that sounds really bad!” 

I stared, deeply trying to think of a solution, but I think he thought I was getting mad. 

“Sorry!” 

“It’s fine, we can find a police officer. You said your family is here… are you staying with them?” He nodded, “Good. Then we can ask for their address. What’s the family name?” 

“Aoki.” 

“They live near here?” I questioned, pointing around.

“Yeah,” He put his hand on my shoulder as he must have felt some sudden dizziness. 

“They are your parents’ parents? I mean, your father’s, right?” I asked regarding the family name. 

“Yes. My grandma and grandpa on my father’s side. And their other daughter and her kid, who’s like 9 or something, lives with them.” 

I suspected as much. It wasn’t a large town. I should’ve tried to figure out if I knew his family right away. It’s not like I knew them particularly well, but I had interacted with them before. The kid he mentioned, a girl named Aoki Rin, was a couple of years younger than me. When she tripped and fell coming in from recess as a Kindergartener, I was the only one who had noticed. I alerted my 6th-year teacher, and she went to get the nurse. As I waited by her side, she cried for her grandparents and her mother, and that kind of made me laugh to myself. 

I wouldn’t have asked for my father either. 

After that, if she saw me walking around town, she would point me out, not that I ever said much to her or her family, but because of that, I knew where their house was. 

“Okay,” I tugged his arm around my shoulder, “Let’s walk you home.”

“H-how?” 

I grinned, “What’s your name, by the way?” 

“Thomas.” 

Laughing, I joked, “Wow, you really are from America.” 

Chapter Text

The photoshoot ended around noon. I picked up some lunch for us and returned home. With any luck, my cute little boyfriend would still be sleeping. 

I keep him up far too late and torture him much too much. But, it's just so fun! 

“Tommy looked hot !” One of the other models I was posing with for the advertisement commented while we waited for the set to be dressed for another round of photos. Damien something or other. I had been in shoots with him before. He wasn’t an actor or singer. He was a pretty decent model, though. At least after he complimented my boyfriend and admitted to being a subscriber, I thought so. 

“I know, didn’t he?” I couldn’t help but gush. I had had people approach me at work before. Sometimes they acted all serious, worried about my safety, which was annoying. This was a moment where I could just brag about my boyfriend, I was reveling in it. “Ginger suits him too well! ” 

I shook my shoulders and winked at him a moment after I said it. 

Damien laughed. 

“Are you going to? ” 

Shrugging, I simply answered, “I might…! If he’s okay with it. You know we have to consent!” A snicker snuck out of me. We had set up safe words a while ago. We discussed boundaries even further back. I hardly remember what he said he was for or against those years ago. Surely I had pushed him past what he had deemed acceptable. And, I don’t think we even mentioned half the things we’ve done. 

I had been such an irresponsible Dom. 

Damien rolled his eyes back to me. He chided, “Right. I heard there was a ton of that when you guys started out. ” 

People always believe what they read. And even fans of ours see me as the victim. 

When I was younger, a couple of months after we had actually started officially dating, when I was still 18 or maybe I was 19 or 20 by then, I realized just how convenient that narrative is for me. Still, it did hurt to see my baby get blamed for everything. Him taking it so personally was only amusing sometimes. Most of the time, it was tedious that Tommy had been feeling guilty.

"Tommy?” I lightly shook his shoulder, then leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, “Tommy? I’m back, baby.” 

“Hm… oh!” He jumped up, throwing his arms around me, “C-can I pull you down?” 

“Sure,” I laughed. 

“Masaki!” He yanked me on top of him. Sometimes I kept the clothes from work, sometimes I didn’t. He was being considerate. Or maybe there were other factors at play. Reasons why he might ask for permission over accidentally misbehaving. 

“Did you sleep a lot?” I eventually broke out of his hold and sat up, straddling him. We were about the same size, and even if he was bigger, which he wasn't, I was stronger. 

“Yes!” He replied, happily, “Since you left!” 

“Then,” I smirked, “Are you hungry?” 

“Yes, but…” He looked down, he was covering his hands with his stomach, “Should I eat? Aren’t you going to do things to me…?” 

“Later,” I took his wrists, “And you’ll be cleaned out first, so don’t worry.” I kissed the palm of his hand. “Do you know what figging is?” 

“No…” He crooned into my kiss, then said with a shaky voice as I took one of his fingers into my mouth, “But.. I feel like you’re gonna show me.”

I popped his finger out. “You don’t want me to explain it beforehand?” 

He shook his head, “No. I trust you. I’m yours to play with.” 

“Alright,” I picked myself off of him. 

“You’re really gonna let a younger guy take advantage of you? Do you enjoy being debased?” 

Every time he agreed to something without a second thought, what I said to him back then rang in my ears. I had meant it so callously. Maybe I wanted him to punch me and run away. Call me the devil like everybody else had. Then our relationship would have been done before it started. 

But he cried. And he replied, “ Y-yes… Akuhara, is that too perverted of me?” And with tears streaming down his red-hot, drunken-flushed face, he only asked me more pressing questions, “ What if I really am a sick freak? Shouldn’t I be locked away forever? Shouldn’t you get away from me?!” 

That’s when I decided I was done with all of that, no matter how much it persisted. If anyone was going to be locking Thomas Aoki away, it was going to be me!

I pulled him up from our bed. I had been forcing the cages smaller, but it wasn’t as easy as pornographic drawings made it seem to push a grown man’s dick into a flat chastity cage. While I was certain that it would look immaculate on him, the one he had on was more than pretty enough. 

Shiny silver with a gold lock, more for appearances than utility. It served the purpose of reminding Tommy, and everyone else, he was locked up for my sake. And how fun that irony was to toy with. 

“Maybe you should bathe again…” I realized, looking over his bare body, aside from the open robe he had dangling on his shoulders, I could easily spot welts from his backside peeking through on his inner thighs. 

“Why? It’ll just sting.” 

I fought back a snide laugh as I thought about how his definition of ‘what stings’ might change. 

“I think we need to treat them a little,” I admitted fault, to some degree. It was not like I hadn’t cared for him at all. I just tend to get overzealous. I’m a nice partner, I just like whipping my boyfriend and seeing him scream and cry. “At least put cream on them, then I run the bath after you clean out.” 

“Okay,” He came closer to me, arm slightly open, “Masaki, I feel fine, you know.” 

I looked at him skeptically, “You don’t hurt at all?” 

His big, beautiful brown eyes went wide with worry, “No, no, no! I do! I do!” 

I stepped back toward him, grabbing his waist under the robe, “Should I be hitting you harder? If you’re perfectly fine, then I’ll—“ I laughed as I tickled his sides and crumbled in my arms. 

“Masaki… stop…”

I let up, then pulled on his hips. The tip of his little cage bumped into my trousers. 

“I love teasing you!” Tilting his head to one side by tugging on his hair, I kissed his neck. Little pecks that turned into long smooches, sucking on his skin. 

“M—!” His voice spiked. He could barely stand, leaning against me. 

I licked the fresh marks I had left on his body. “What do you think I got, guess?” 

“Uh… Chinese? Thai?” 

“No, no,” I stood back and smiled, “Italian! I got you penne vodka!” 

He grinned even though he was still all flustered, “Oh yay!” It was his favorite. 

Plus, the Italian place was near the BDSM store, and I wanted to double-check with people that I had my information right before trying something new. We weren’t part of a club or an organization, and we only participated in BDSM in our own way, but it was helpful for me to know people who were involved, if nothing else than for our safety. 

“Masaki!” He wrapped me back into a hug as I turned to leave the bedroom. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” 

I grabbed his arm that was gripping my chest, “I know, baby, and I love you.” 

Chapter Text

Only Grandma Aoki was still home when I managed to carry and drag Thomas all the way back to their house. She came to the front after I opened the door and pulled him in, exclaiming, “Yabai! Yabai! (Oh gosh! Oh gosh!)” As I took him off my shoulders and dropped him on the front step up into the house, she ran to get him some water. 

I was apologized to for the inconvenience and I thanked for bringing him home. 

She said she would get me tea and bring snacks if I waited just a minute. I didn’t really have a minute. I was already late for school as it was, but I stayed. 

Thomas was fading, sleeping and sickly. He cradled a large bowl between his legs on the floor in the living room in case he needed to vomit again. I sat in there with him after speaking to his grandmother. 

“You’re not going to school?” 

“She is making me some tea, I’ll go after.” 

“Won’t you be late?” He pointed out, raising an eyebrow. 

I shrugged it off, “I’m late as it is.” 

“Oh…” He gulped, “Sorry about that. I really am. I should be more responsible.” 

“It’s alright,” I stared at him. Dark brown hair, pretty eyes, soft features. I think I thought he was younger than he was. Maybe 20. Finishing school half a semester later than what was expected, which would put him at either 22 or 23. When I considered that for a second, that made sense. He was a young adult, but clearly not a responsible or experienced one. “Things do happen.” 

He sipped on his glass of water. 

After placing it down, he held his head. “I can’t imagine what I’ve been mumbling to you.” 

“It’s nothing.” I shook my head and laughed, “I’ll forget about it, don’t worry.” 

“You’re so cute!” He had poked my nose so quickly after he said that I flinched and almost fell over. “You gotta have tons of girlfriends!” 

“I don’t really like girls,” He was only the second person I had ever told about that. I must have only told him because I was pretty confident he’d actually forget everything that was said. 

“Oh! Me neither!” 

He squeezed my shoulder as I carried him and we limped along the sidewalk in broad daylight. I think we passed other kids heading to my school.

“That’s why the old men love me!” He leaned in, trying to whisper though he wasn’t quiet at all, “I didn’t have to pay for anything last night~ hehe.”

I nodded. 

“You got used.” 

“And abused!” He joked back, foolishly jumping up. 

“Shit—!” I fumbled to catch him, missing his body, but hooking onto his jean jacket and yanking him back up. 

He just laughed, then hiccuped again, except it turned into another barf. He threw up right on the pavement this time. 

“Oh…” I uttered, then pulled him to the side of the mess. Somewhere, I guess the rational part of me realized I must have talked to other gay people before, but this man was the first person who had ever told me he was and knew I was. So even as I could smell the beer he had yesterday, I wanted to know even more. “You just like old men?” 

He laughed, now whipping his face on his sleeve despite himself, “No,  not really, they just give me things so…” 

“I see.” 

“You’re gay?” He asked, even though I thought I had made that kind of clear. I nodded twice, staring at him. “All the way?”

“…All the way?” 

“I’m bisexual~!” 

I bit my lip. That didn’t change anything, not really, but it did sound different when he said it. 

I think I worried that he liked girls but did things with men for money, or in this case, just free drinks. 

“I just,” He held the glass of water to his head, “I feel like I’m sobering up and I just know I said some stupid shit to you.” 

“It’s fine, really.” I insisted. His grandma came into the room and handed me a cup of tea. She also put out fruit on the table between us. I thanked her and she thanked me again. 

She asked me why I knew English so well, then before I could answer, figured out I was half-Japanese. Although that wasn’t the reason. I corrected her. But the correction still came with the admission that I had been practicing my English more since I had heard the news I’d be moving soon. 

“Where in America?” Thomas asked, I guess he was picking up bits and pieces of our conversation from the sidelines. 

“My dad’s in New York City, so I guess there. He hasn’t told me exactly where he lives.” 

“Hm,” He tilted his head, “I don’t know where I’m gonna be, but I was in Connecticut for University. The City wasn’t that far.”

“Oh.” I considered my options, if there were any. I wondered if asking for his contact information was too much, too impossible. He was an adult. I was a child. Asking for advice wasn’t illegal. I didn’t pursue any further. I looked down at my tea. Green and fresh. Aoki. 

Days later, just hours before my graduation and the day before I was to get on a plane set for the United States, I went back to the Aoki household. 

The young girl answered. She was much bigger now than when I had found help for her years ago, but she still remembered me right away. After she stopped hugging me, I asked if Thomas was here. She went to check for me. 

Girls who were younger and smaller than me were no good. There was nothing to get out of bringing them down. I learned that back then. An older, larger man would be much better. 

“H-hello?” Thomas came outside, confused. 

“Hello.” 

“Oh, it’s you!” He gestured to me, happily, “Rin was babbling, and I had no clue who the hell she was talking about. You’re the kid that saved me!” 

“Yes,” I bowed, “I guess. Though saved is a lot, how about helped?” 

“Okay, helped!” He smiled. Such a nice, pure, and gentle smile. I must have admired his glow for a moment too long. He got wary, “So… why are you here?” 

“Right,” I stood tall and cleared my throat. “Could you come speak with me privately?” 

“Uh, sure?” He stepped back inside to slip on his shoes. “Does one of the benches across the street work?” 

“Let’s go to the pavilion at the park… if no one else is in it.” 

He agreed, “Okay.” 

I sat on one bench, he sat on another. A recent university graduate across from me, a boy in his uniform that was about to be pinned and handed his diploma at his junior high graduation. I knew it was ridiculous. And I didn’t plan on getting him arrested and making him a criminal. 

“Thomas,” I started, “I won’t talk to you or contact you or come to this house or find where you live in America until I’m 18, but could I ask for your number so I could do so once I am?” 

He froze, eyes wide in shock. 

I stood up, “I like you. Since that day, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I want to be with you, but I know that’s not allowed, so… I can promise you I won’t bother you until then if you just let me have your information now.” 

“What? What are you talking about?” 

“Like I’ve said…” I looked to the side, then back at him, stepping closer, “I like you.” 

“Why? I was such a mess. I am such a mess! There’s much better people to like— people your age!” 

I shook my head, “No. That’s what I like about you. I’m worried about you as well. I want to make you mine and take care of you, and you’ll never have to be with old men again!” 

“Wait! Wait!” He resisted, hands coming up. “Stop. You’re just a kid!”

“I know,” I dropped my shoulders. I couldn’t change that. I seriously considered not confessing to him at all. “That’s why I will have to wait. Even if you continue… In 3 years, even less, after that, can’t you be with me?” 

“I don’t even know your name!” 

“Akuhara! Masaki Akuhara, I get teased all the time and called Akuma, like a devil! Because I wasn’t a nice kid, not at all! Your little cousin thinks I helped her— I tripped her! I tripped her and watched her fall. Then, when no one else noticed, I told my teacher. I only helped you because you were belching out on the side of the road and looked stupid! Now I want you to be mine and make you look a million times worse! If you want to wait until I’m 20, I’ll do it just to see you cry after I—“ 

“Aku…” He grabbed the end of my school jacket. “You’re shouting… other people might overhear.” 

“Oh, you’re right.” I touched my hand to the top of his head, “What does it matter though, most of them hardly know English.” 

I watched his eyes go wide. 

“A devil, huh?” It was shaky laughter baked with fear. 

“The nickname started long before I ever tried hurting anybody on purpose. And I am sorry about Rin. I thought it would be fulfilling. It was just dumb.” 

He pushed me back and stood up, “And what if waiting 3 years for me is just as stupid?” He dropped his head in his hands, then collapsed on the other bench, “I don’t think I’m worth waiting for.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“I barely finished college!” He spat back, not crying but sounding pathetic, “I have no job offers. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m basically a whore at this point! And, and,” He turned and looked at me desperately, “I’m actually considering what you’re saying, which makes me a monster. Doesn’t it?” 

I kept my calm composure. Issues like right and wrong didn’t really bother me. I knew the answers I was supposed to give when asked, but I didn’t particularly care for moral games. “I'd take you right here and now if it didn't risk putting you in jail for life.” 

“Take me?” 

I sighed. “Yes, I’d be fucking you.” He was so slow, but so pretty down on the pavilion floor like that. Imagining him bent over the bench and fucking him would be too much but I had already started describing it outloud. “You’re the whore, aren’t you?”

“You’re the child, aren’t you?” He retorted. 

“Right.” I sat back where he was before, crossing my legs and trying to relax, “For now.” I pulled my phone out of my front pocket. “So what’s your number?” 

“Isn’t it still bad to give it to you now?” He asked, pulling himself up. 

“No, because you’re going to text me some ‘top ten places to visit in NYC’ article. I’m going to say ‘thanks!’. And then we aren’t going to talk until I’m an adult.”

Almost robotically, without much emotion or any more doubt, he rattled off his number, “860–“ 

“Thank you,” I clicked the contact I had made and started my text to him, saying aloud what I was typing out, “Hi, this is Akuhara, your grandparents said I should ask you for good places to visit in NYC? I am moving there soon from Japan! Any advice you have would be great! Thank you!” 

He nodded once, “Sounds good.” 

“Are you okay?” 

He grabbed his stomach, “I think I might be sick again.”

“Why?” I squinted. “Did you go drinking last night too?” 

“No…” He whined, and I stood up, putting my phone back in my pocket. 

“I have to go. My graduation is today~!” I mockingly waved my hands in the air, then grabbed a post of the pavilion. 

“Congrats, I guess.” 

With a laugh, I told him, “I’m still not done really, I have to go to the US and jump into the middle of freshman year even though I’ve finished it here!” 

“Oh,” He rose up, taller than me by probably 6 inches. Not so much it was drastic, but enough there was a notable difference when we’re standing next to each other. “When are you moving?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“Yes, this was a… what is… a Hail Mary?” I tried to pull off a convincing American football throw. 

“Yes,” He chuckled, tapping my arm in the air. “I get it.” 

I snatched his wrist. Not fully realizing what I had done until he was staring at me, surprised. 

“S-sorry,” I let him go, but I wanted to pull him down and kiss him right there. 

“Akuhara? I’ll… get more responsible. And respectable.” 

I shook my head, stepping out of the pavilion. “Don’t worry about that. You’re fine how you are. Just be careful, okay? I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” At least, not by anyone else. If random old men wanted to buy a pretty airhead like him a couple of drinks at bar and have him suck their dicks or something, that was one thing. But I didn’t want him dying on me. "When I'm an adult. In America." I clarified. 

He wouldn’t need to be responsible or respectable in the future anyway. He would be mine. I was the one who had 3 years to get my act together so I could take care of the both of us. 

By law, I could start working part-time jobs in a year, but there were some other ways children could make money. I didn’t know how my father would feel about acting and modeling, but I didn’t really care what he thought beyond signing a parental consent form. 

When I was a junior in high school, well into my 2nd, almost my 3rd year in America, Thomas called me despite the agreement we had made. 

When his name popped up, blinded by the rush of it all, I answered. “Hello?” 

“Akuhara? Are you… famous?” 

“I wouldn’t say famous…” I chuckled, “I’ve been in a couple of commercials, and a few ads are using my pictures. Why did you see something?” I did have a show lined up. I had been filming it over break, but nothing was out about it yet. There was no way he could have found out about it.

“Yeah,” His laugh, his voice, knowing it was him was so good to my ears. “My aunt called me over to the TV.” 

“You’re in Japan?” 

“Yes. Just visiting again. Anyway, sorry, I know I really shouldn’t have contacted you—“ 

I wanted so badly to tell him I’m glad he did, but I came to my senses somehow and didn’t. 

“It’s alright, we’ll cover it up. Don’t do it again.” 

“Right. I just couldn’t believe that it was you. Sorry.” 

“Which ad was it? I don’t know what one is running in Japan.”

“The… it was for… Gap.” 

“Okay. Perfect. I’m going to ask for coupons and send them to you for your family. I haven’t requested any, even though they said I could, so I guess this is it. Just reply, thanks. Then leave it.” 

“Alright. Akuhara—“ 

“Only a year and a few months more now. Plan to be in NYC by the end of February next year. Goodbye.” 

“Bye.” 

I ended the call. If that man wasn’t underneath me by March 2nd next year, my 18th birthday, I was gonna absolutely lose it on the next guy I met up with. It was taking everything in me not to find out where he lived in Connecticut or New York or New Jersey or wherever in America and it was taking everything in me not to spend my money flying over to my hometown in Japan, where I knew he was. 

It sounded like he thought I looked different. I wondered what he looked like. Had he cut his hair? Had he been working out? Eating well and drinking a lot? It didn’t matter any which way, but I wanted to see him, wanted to touch him, wanted to be inside of him.

Chapter Text

I found out, some people didn’t like being part of prepping process with their partners. While I can understand wanting to keep the magic behind the curtain, so to speak, as a man who enjoys watching my boyfriend suffer it was lovely to see. Someone could probably convince me that ‘it gets old’ but it really doesn’t if you make him hold it till you allow him to release it. At least not in my opinion. 

And people who say it’s gross, well yes. 

That’s the point. 

My baby was huffing and gasping after he had expelled the contents of the enema and whatever had up inside of him. I went behind him and turned the tap to the bath on. 

“Let that all go down the drain first.” 

“O-okay~”

I came back to him, lifted his chin and kissed him, “You’re so gorgeous you know that?” 

He just barely managed to let out a laugh that essentially communicated to me, “Gorgeous? Like this?” 

Reaching over his legs, I pushed down the plug of the bath then ran my hand under the water. I stepped into the tub, my clothes off as well, and had him sit back on my legs as the water filled up. 

“It’s unfair how pretty you are.” 

“You’re the model, Masaki.” 

“True,” I caressed his cheek, “But videos with you make more money.” 

Laying down with his back side up toward me, and the camera set up, the things I had done to my boyfriend were on full display as well as his rather large ass. I gave him a slap, trying to hold back a little so as to not rip open a healing welt.

He let out a small nose, more from surprise than pain. 

“Are we starting?” 

“Not yet. It’s not 4 yet.” That was when I had said the stream would start in a blast to our subscribers, “A couple more minutes.” 

He sighed. It seemed he was itching to get started. I had fucked him in the bath, but didn’t finish inside of him. 

“Do you want me that bad?” 

“Of course I want you!” He answered quickly and passionately. 

“Oh,” it caught me off-guard a little. 

“I’m a creep!” He started spouting out nonsense, fighting up against the straps holding him to the table. I hated it when I got like this. Always right before we were really about to have fun, he’d panic about the same old things. “I like little boys of course—“ 

“Please,” I put my hand down on his asscheek and squeezed a little, “I’m older now than you were then. You better shut up with that or I’ll really slap you.” 

He relaxed. He was done and I was happy for it. Tons of other times he had kept going, asking me if I could have done what he did and agreed to give a kid my age my number like that.

That was so pointless to wonder about. Something like that wasn’t going to happen to me and if he did, I already had him. 

“This is going to hurt a bit.” 

“…If I need you to stop.” 

“You can say your safeword obviously. Though, once we start it might take a little while to dull the pain. So… once it’s happening, it’s happening.” 

He breathed out, eyes closed, “Okay.” 

Never once had he used it. I guess that was a good thing. Apparently that was considered for the better, or rather an expectation, for subs and doms. Still, sometimes I felt like I could just make him do anything. And it wasn’t exactly a feeling I felt guilty about. 

I clicked the laptop I had set up next to the camera tripod, waking it up. 3:55. Everything looked ready. I could see that 2 moderators were online. A live stream on a weekday afternoon that I only announced hours ago wouldn’t get a lot of views but it still had replay value and filled up our output for the month. We had obsessive followers like any other content creators. They’d tune in for sure. And most likely, so would some people who hate us. 

“Okay, get ready. We’re going live soon.” 

He nodded. His face would only be shown when he turned back, which he inevitably would. I never made any effort to hide his identity or my own. People know who I am. People know who my boyfriend is. I’m that former teen idol who fucks the man who groomed him on porn sites almost every day, haven’t you heard? 

We’ve had to move a few times because it was becoming unsafe. People figured out from windows and buildings in the background where our last two apartments were. Now, I only stream and record in a completely interior room. And the building we’re in now has guards at the front and in each of the elevators. It’s meant for celebrities, expensive, but worth it. Tommy isn’t so scared anymore. 

“Kay.” I hit the button to go live on my end. On screen appeared the image of what the camera could see, just a second or two behind. I reached out and gave a peace sign, saw it on the laptop, then stepped out, “Hi!” 

Placing my hand down on Tommy’s ass softly, not a slap or spank or anything, I smiled, “Hope everybody’s having a good day. I don’t know of you guys saw it last night but my baby changed his hair.” I glanced back at him, “Tommy, lift your head up a little.” He did so, even though being strapped down on all fours made that awkward and difficult. “Good,” I went to his side, stretched over and ran my fingers through, “Should we take a poll to see if people like it?” 

“Hm?” He tilted his head, peering up at me.

“What?” 

“…But what if they don’t… Daddy?” 

I snickered, “Then you’ll try something else! Though I think ginger looks good on you.” I winked. Maybe he had no idea what I meant, but I had said in my post for the stream that we were going to try figging, so I’m sure some viewers were amused by that. 

Back at the laptop, I asked aloud while typing out the poll, “Tommy plus ginger, yes or no?” 

He chuckled a little. 

“What’s funny?” I questioned, maybe with a twinge of accusation, “Care to tell us what you think figging is, baby? Or would you like to admit you’ve never heard of it before?” 

I sent the poll out. Checking on the viewer count there were around 200 people watching, 40 votes for yes came in before I walked away. 

“S-sorry…” 

“So tell me then, why did you laugh? Because I don’t think you’re in on the joke, baby.” 

I hip checked the side of his legs. I was wearing boxers now, he was completely naked. 

“It’s just the color is more yellow than red.” 

“So’s the food.” I bumped my crotch into his thigh. I was soft now, but I was certain I would get hard again once we got going. Figging was low on my mental list of things I had wanted to try, and I had only discovered it through being in an ad for condoms. One of the lighting guys there was talking about freaky things he wished he could ask women to do to him… and figging was one of them. I had only overheard him explaining what it was to another guy, but it was something I kept in the back of my mind. 

“And I’m not Irish…” He whined, continuing to try and defend himself. 

“Yeah I am.” I shrugged. “Well, part anyway. Like a quarter or something.” 

Squinting, scanning the chat on the laptop, I read people commenting on his new hair color and laughing at the taunts I was throwing his way. Some people were saying things like, “Does he really not know?!” “How could he not know?” 

Then I saw a message pop up at the bottom, “I’m 16 and I’ve heard of it!” 

I left Tommy’s side and went over to the laptop. Copied that username and direct messaged it to a moderator. 

The moderate replied to me, “Done. Banned.”

“Thanks.” I typed back. And when I returned to the main chat, the comment was deleted. 

While there was certainly a chance there were kids who got through the age restrictions of the streaming site, it was more likely an adult acting like a weirdo and trying to catfish people. Either way, they were stupid. And either way, I didn’t want that person here. 

“Let’s see how the poll is doing…!” I said joyously, “Alright most people say that Tommy and ginger are a good match~”

I heard him trying to move behind me, so I guessed he was probably looking. 

“10% said no though,” I faked depression in my voice, “How sad… well still that’s a strong majority that said yes so— Tommy!” I clapped my hands together and turned, “I’d ask if you know what that means, but you’ve already told me you don’t. And guys… he said he didn’t want to know,” I laughed, and picked up the cutting board I had prepared everything on. “So, we’re gonna start slow with a test run.” 

I had cut two fingers of a ginger root, one smaller and one larger. Each had a skinner end to be inserted and a wider end so it couldn’t get lost inside. I placed the cutting board under his ass and between his spread out legs after showing everybody. I put on the gloves I had worn when I cut it earlier and picked up the smaller finger. 

Carved like a dildo. I read and I was told the oil that ginger roots produced when cut was wet enough on its own. There were more than a couple of lube bottles in this room if we needed them, but I was going to try without anything first. 

The gloves I wore probably had some oil on them from cutting and shaping the roots, but I considered they might be too dry to just start fingering him. 

I touched the skinner side of the ginger to his asshole. “Take it in. It’s not big.” 

He had had wider and longer things inserted inside of him, I had just had sex with him before. 

I pushed it deeper for him. Slowly, but surely, not wasting any time and not jamming it inside either. 

“What is it?” He asked when he had taken most of it.

Dumb question, “What do you think it is?” He made it to what was acting as the base. I could tell he was confused that it was small. At least, smaller than he was used to. “Use context clues and tell me.” 

He clenched his ass around the finger of ginger. I knew then it must be true the stinging sensation did not occur until a little later. 

“I don’t…” He put it together eventually, after about 30 seconds of thinking, “Is it… ginger?”

“Yup,” I held the end. “That’s what figging is, baby.” 

“I guess I’m an idiot… I thought it was going to be like flogging.” He wiggled a bit, shaking his ass side to side. An ever present and tempting target. 

I slapped him once coming in from the far side. A grunt slipped out of his mouth. He couldn’t move far, not up because of the straps and not down because of the box under his stomach. 

“No, but well, I might hit you a bit.” Slapping him again, I finally asked, “What’s it feel like?” 

“…J-just… just kind of hard. And kind of tiny.” 

I bit my lip. Then teased him, “Greedy.” I turned back to the chat after hitting him another time. Tightening was supposed to make it worse, but the effects had yet to come. “No,” I laughed a little after reading someone’s question, “He isn’t being punished. Rewarded actually.” 

“I am?” He chirped up, tugging hard on the straps in his excitement. He recoiled back down. Then let out, “Oh—! Oh, Masaki is it— is it supposed to—“ 

His thighs quivered and he tried to readjust. 

“What is it?” I asked, knowing full well the burning had begun. 

“Something!” He cried. It was probably starting to hurt, given he raised his voice like that.  

“Baby?” I leaned over, “Do you want me to take it out? It won’t stop anything, but it might shorten how long the burning lasts.” 

He whined, moving his head to look at me, “…This is supposed to happen?”  

I nodded, “It’s the whole point really.” 

He squirmed his legs and backside, though that was probably hurting more than it was helping, “I don’t…” He looked at me with such soft eyes. 

“Hold it for 2 more minutes.” I told him, staring down. 

When he was pleading for help, he always looked so beautiful. Maybe the audience watching could see, maybe they couldn’t. Maybe they liked this, maybe they didn’t. I loved it. 

He knew I liked to see him suffering and was going along with it to please me. 

I stood upright, maintaining eye contact with him. Bringing a finger to his lips I told him, “Lick it. It’ll sting a little too.” 

He shut his eyes, twitching, and parted his lips. I slid my finger in and he sucked on the glove. 

“Good, baby. Does it hurt?” 

“Mmhmm.” He sounded, muffled by my finger. 

“So that’s a yes,” I smiled at the camera, then used my other hand to spin the ginger a little bit, slowly rotating it inside of his hole. He grunted and groaned, shifting as the piece touched his walls. “I’ve heard it hurts more when you clench. Is that true?” 

I let go, taking my hand out of his mouth as well. 

“I don’t know—“ 

“Bare down on it.” 

Squeezing his asscheeks together, he listened to my demand. Wincing, then exhaling loudly, proved the statement validity. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. All these websites that had guides about figging said you could incorporate spanking or caning into the act. They claimed it was a fun way to force your partner to decide between taking the pain of the strike or the sting. It seemed I didn’t need to back Tommy into such an impossible decision. He would do whichever I said. 

“Alright let up,” I sighed and he unclenched. I rounded his ass with my hand. He had always had a nice butt, firm but shapely too. Over the years we had been together it has gotten a little fatter, though that was probably entirely my fault. I kept him well-fed most of the time. Apparently making him stick to some kind of schedule more than he ever had before when he was caring for himself. The man I met throwing up outside looked good, this guy looked even better. 

The welts weren’t healed much at all. At least not the most reason ones. I couldn’t, or rather I knew I shouldn’t grope him that much, so I brought my hand back to the end of the ginger. 

He was whimpering and grabbing the end of the table. His toes curled up. 

“Is it too much?” 

“N-no, daddy.” 

I nodded, glanced back at the camera, then my laptop, “Alright. A little bit longer baby.” Absent-mindedly, I turned the ginger a bit more as I read the messages coming in. It seemed that generally the audience watching this was liking it. If someone genuinely came to watch our channel they were probably into BDSM, or just liked watching gay guys fuck. In which case maybe this wasn’t the perfect video for them but… I think we’ve helped more than a couple of people discover they were into things they never thought they could be. “The stinging feeling is going to stay, we haven’t kept it in that long so maybe for 15-20 minutes. You let me know, okay?” 

“W-when it goes… away?” 

“Yes,” I looked back at him, “Then I have a bigger one for you. Bigger for longer, you’ll like it.” I grinned though I was no longer facing the camera. “While we wait, what do you think I’ll have you do?” 

I wiggled the ginger out even though it probably could have come out with a quick pop. 

“Uh…” He gasped, eyes struggling to open and sweating a little, “Will you… fuck me?” 

“No,” I snickered, “You are an idiot! I said, ‘What will I have you do’?!” 

“Ooh, oh…” I dropped the small finger on the outboard beside the other and tugged my gloves off. “I’m going to suck you off!” 

“Yes, baby. It would hurt me to fuck you now. There’s only a little bit in your mouth right? You hardly feel it?” 

I went around to him after my hands were free, he was licking his lips. “R…right. It’s not so bad.” 

“In your ass?” I glared down, “Let them hear you. Tell them how it feels.” 

He sucked in air hard, then exhaled, “It hurts! It’s stinging me and it’s all tingly and—“ 

“Enough,” I pet his head, tossing his ginger hair around as he calmed back down for me. Then, I tilted his head back. He opened his mouth without having to be reminded to do so. Sticking my thumb in the waistband, I slipped my underwear down enough to take my dick out. 

He looked. 

He loved it. I was never sure if I made him love it or if he always had. 

“Da— Daddy…” 

I got sick pleasure from torturing him. It was fun to tease and embarrass him. Degrading and debasing him was even better. I had turned him into basically a house-ridden, overly dependent man-baby. It was pathetic. And I showed him off to practically anyone willing to see. But when he acted so sweetly, charming and delicate, I really did fall in love. 

Chapter Text

Shortly after I first got to America, my father suggested I go to a grief counselor. It wasn’t a suggestion though, the appointment was already booked and I was to go the following afternoon. 

I didn’t want to talk to a shrink. I had already dealt with ones in school. They always start out liking me, then eventually, they wouldn’t anymore. 

I used to be honest with them in elementary school, until one lady hit me over the head and told me never to speak like that again. I couldn’t remember what I had said, I just knew after that day I decide that if I was sent to that office again, I’d tell her what I thought she wanted to hear. So, the same would apply here. 

This lady was asking me how I liked New York. How I liked my new school. My teachers. If I was making any friends. 

I said I like New York, but it’s confusing. I told her that I miss Japan and I’m not used to living with my father. I ‘confessed’ that I thought it was silly I was going to school even though I had graduated the equivalent of the school year in Japan already. My teachers were fine, though one or two seemed more helpful than others. 

I left out the friends part. 

She pressed on it, because of course she would. That was the only question she cared to know the answer to. 

“Uh… maybe… I don’t know.” I shyly replied. “It’s hard to fit in at a new school, but people are nice to me.” 

“Like who?” 

“Um, I’ve been eating lunch with these two girls. They like anime so… they’ve been asking me about what Japan is really like,” I laughed, “It’s kind of fun to talk about.

“Oh, good.” She nodded. 

“Can we talk about your mother?” 

I didn’t want to. Nothing in me wanted to talk to some strange woman about my recently diseased mother. “Okay.” 

“On the phone your father told me it was in the winter?” 

“Yes, in November. A lung disease.” 

“I see,” She kept nodding her head along to a steady beat that didn’t exist, it felt like millennia passed, “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

I folded my hands in my lap, and bowed my head, “T-thank you.” 

“Would you say you prefer living with your mother over your father?” These people, they always did have such a way of moving from question to the other, more like reporters than doctors.

“I have never lived with my father until now. I would only see him when he came to visit in the summer… so, yes?”

She crossed her legs, tapping her pen on his cheek even though she had her clipboard to the side, “You’ve been living with him for a little while now haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” I moved my head, unsatisfied, “It’s fine, I just miss my mother, I guess.” 

“That’s understandable. What do you miss about her?” 

I shut my eyes. My mother worked a lot. Most nights we would have takeout or convenience store food, until I started trying to make meals myself. “Her cooking. Our house smelled better. Here it smells like New York!” 

She laughed. 

New Yorkers like when you playfully rag on New York apparently, and she ate it up when I did. 

At the end of the hour though, she still recommended me for further counseling. I thought I had done a great job of masking my nastier thoughts. I suspected it was a test when my father had sent me there, so I adjusted my answers accordingly. Some truths in the lies. Enough to sound like a normal high school freshman boy. At least I thought, but perhaps I was coming off too calculated still. Too cunning. 

I remembered as I read her evaluation what I had said that made that lady from my elementary school so mad at me, it was along the lines of, “I don’t care how they feel, I’m upset! They hurt my feelings and they had to pay for it!” 

“Akuma!” 

“Akuma!” 

The jeering got to be enough. It wasn’t funny the first few times. The ‘Aku’ from Akuhara means ‘evil’ and ‘bad’ and the ‘Ma’ from Masaki written with a different kanji that makes the same sound means ‘demon’, putting them together makes ‘Akuma’ an evil demon or more specifically a devil. 

“Not Ma-saki, MA-saki!” I had been trying to explain it since kindergarten, but no one cared. The ‘Ma’ in my name meant something else. ‘Akuhara’ didn’t.. But I didn’t want to go by my father’s last name no matter how much bullying I was enduring. 

He wasn’t living with us. He wasn’t married to my mother. And, I had recently figured out, the letters and gifts he had allegedly been sending me were written and purchased by my mother. Even if he sent the money to her. Even if he told her what to say… I was angry about it. 

There was a rumor I could cast evil spells on people. That I was more powerful than the ordinary boy or girl in our school. 

It started because I was different. 

I looked a little different, my hair curled back no matter how hair I tried to straighten it, so I must have been magic. 

That’s what kids thought anyway. 

And when I finally retaliated, I was brought to the disciplinary room. My mother was called. Since then an eye was kept on me. And, apparently ever since then I was always acting out. 

“Hey Akuma!” A boy from my 4th grade class called out to me during free time. 

“What?” I smiled, putting on my best behavior in front of the teacher. 

“You’re good at math, right? Can you help me?” I got lost. 

“Sure.”

I walked with him back over to his desk. He was a bit smaller than me and he was also really squinting a lot. The next year he got glasses, but in 4th grade he didn’t have them yet. 

He opened his math notebook. 

For a moment I was speechless. Kids behind us, onlookers started laughing. They did cruel things just to get a rise out of me. He had called me over just to show a stupid sloppily-done sketch of me as a devil. 

The joke would never end. 

They relished in how the adults took their side every time. How I would get pulled out and spoken to. I wished I could slit his throat with his pencil. I wished I could choke out ever last one of those jerks that were laughing at me. But I knew I had to just stand there and take it. 

And worst of all, at some point, it started to feel like they weren’t really wrong about me. And I was hardly mad at them anymore but mad at myself for letting my inner thoughts slip out. 

When I was a very little boy, before I was 5 years old, I clapped my hands and shook the rope of a temple bell with the help of my mother. I had prayed that my father would die and that I would get to hear about it on the news like any other crime story. 

How in kindergarten did they know? How could they tell? 

The next shrink started off with similar questions, just about the readjustments in my life, but then she asked something I wasn’t expecting. I should have prepared for it, but I didn’t know adults who pretended to be like professionals in medicine would ask children that. 

“Have you ever been in love?” 

“Eh?!” I was honestly thrown off, to the degree my accent popped out. A year prior that was an easier answer. I had a crush on my teacher, but one, even I, could chalk that up to a more childish love. A fascination that I never wanted to come true. With Thomas Aoki, I wanted him badly. Love was still too strong a concept for our relationship and feelings toward him. “No… I think I’m still too young…” 

“You’ve never liked anybody?”

I wondered what it could possibly mean if I didn’t? Would it be proof I had no emotions? No empathy. No desires. Would that somehow mean I’m deranged and unfeeling? 

I gave her the real answer. 

“I mean, I’ve had crushes before…”

“Really?” She asked, “Would you like to talk about them?” 

She was pushing on a weak spot, she knew it and I felt like she was too giddy to do so. 

“Um… no…” I leaned back and clicked my tongue, looking at the tinted window that let out to the hallway, “I won’t. I’m kind of worried this will get back to my dad.” 

“We have confidentiality. Nothing you say to me will get to your father unless it’s mandatory I report it for your safety.” 

I sighed. The last lady said our meaning was confidential and she handed my father a report of the meeting. That didn’t mean anything when I was a minor under my father’s guardianship. 

I felt backed up into a corner here and everywhere else in my life. I hated these counseling appointments. My father was not signing parental approval for a talent agent. And I could not have the man I wanted. I said what I could to make two of my problems go away. 

“I… I think I’m gay…” 

My father hugged me that night as we were walking back into his apartment, he said, “Aw! You should’ve told me, little guy!” He was smiling and laughing, “I thought you were all standoffish and weird, but now I get why!” He stepped back and pointed to himself with both hands. “You think I wouldn’t accept you? I’m your Dad! I’ll always love you!” 

My father wasn’t a big man all things considered, but he was bigger than me. He did not have much money, at least his apartment was crappy. He and my mother crossed paths when they were in university. His semester studying aboard. He didn’t know he had had a son until she sent him a letter after I was born. His return letter, which she had kept and I had snuck into her room to read, said he needed to finish up school. Then he’d think about what they could do from there. 

Clearly, nothing came of that. 

I thought a man who impregnates a woman then takes no responsibility should die in a terrible accident. Or a drugstore shoot out or a pile up. The kind of thing I could see replays of. 

He was always a cheery guy. Acting like nothing was wrong. 

He loved me, sure when he remembered I existed. 

“I want to act,” I repeated the request he had denied days ago. “Please, I don’t need you to pay for anything, I just need your permission since I’m under 16.” 

“Why through an agent though?” He sighed, “Just join the drama club, I’m sure they put on plays at your school.” 

“No,” I shook my head, I didn’t want to do school plays. There was no money to make there. “I want this to be my career, so shouldn’t I try to get some experience now?” I raised my hands and waved around, “I’m in New York City! Isn’t this the right place to be?!” 

“You want to be like… on Broadway?” 

I titled my head. My dad was much simpler to lead on and trick. With the knowledge I was gay, he now linked my desire to get a talent agent with my sexuality. The two weren’t entirely unconnected, but there was a step in between I was purposefully leaving out. “I don’t know… maybe not Broadway… I’ll take just starting out with some commercials or modeling or something. Anything really.” 

He gave in, going over to the table and pulling a pen out of a pencil holder, “Where’s the paper?” 

“Thanks!” I beamed and rushed back to my new room happily. 

I had gotten what I wanted that day, but I still had 2 years and a couple of months left of waiting. 

Chapter Text

The first time Tommy sucked my dick, I could tell he wasn’t that good at it. It was then that I realized that the men he had been with got off on him doing it at all rather than because he was skilled at it. My frame of reference might have been small though. I had only taken the initiative to give two guys blowjobs and I hadn’t asked them to do the same for me. 

I foolishly thought Tommy was a pro. It made me laugh that he wasn’t. And for some odd reason comforted me. 

I got to train him to take it like I like it, and it felt like both of us had never done that with anybody else. Even though, technically we each had multiple times. 

“Yeah, baby,” He moved his tongue around the underside of my dick as I held it in his mouth. Grabbing his head, I started to jerk my hips toward him, pushing back into his throat. He used to gag a lot. He hardly does anymore. Sometimes if an uncomfortable spot gets hit he makes a wonderful choking noise. “Good boy.” 

I was trying to decide if I should let him cum later as I was getting closer, or if all these compliments and praise were enough to justify me saying he was being “rewarded” earlier. 

He was being rewarded, genuinely, and I wasn’t being nicer to him for no reason. I was proud of him. He did something I know he didn’t like to do. 

And he had only panicked a little just before the stream. 

I was pleased with him, truly.

“Baby…” I moaned after a little while. If he was burning, he wasn’t letting it on that much. He was still doing a damn good job. Though, to be fair, I was doing a lot of the work. 

I lodged deep and finished inside of him. 

He made an honest attempt to gulp everything down and I had only just finished into the bathtub before, but still gagged and when I pulled out, some cum dripped off of his lips. Drooling, he looked up at me. He tried to lick his lips clean, it seemed he didn’t have much control at the moment, then held his tongue out to me. 

“Good enough,” I laughed, rubbing his chin with my thumb and stuffing in what I had collected. He knew to swallow unless I said otherwise. 

“T-thank you.” 

His cute little face lit up. Doey eyes were so good on him. Although, he appeared a little surprised. 

He cradled his cheek, “What baby?” 

“N-nothing…” He stuttered out, then blinked and informed me, “I’m just happy.” 

A smile came naturally. 

The way he melted to praise did tempt me to be so kind all the time, but that would take away a large chunk of the fun. 

“Are you still hurting?” I asked and he nodded. 

He weakly answered, focusing down now, “…yes…” 

“I don’t think they could hear you!” I spoke loudly, reminding him of the live stream viewers. 

“Yes!” He quickly replied, raising his voice and readjusting his hips. 

“Hm, I’m not sure exactly how long it’s been.” I dropped my hand from his face and walked back around to the laptop. I didn’t check the time before I had him face fucked him, but it was 3:18. “It’s been almost 20 minutes.” 

Realistically it probably took about 4-5 minutes to actually get to the point where I was putting the ginger root in his asshole. And then I had him hold it there for maybe about the same length of time, or a little less. The burn sensation was said to possibly last 20-30 minutes. I wondered how I could fill the time. 

I looked at the chat. A lot of the comments were complimenting the dick sucking. One of the moderators must have zoomed in the video feed, because the angle was pretty distant and terrible in my opinion. They couldn’t even see Tommy’s face from there. That was the best part. Regardless, people still found it hot apparently. 

Scrolling up I saw someone had asked a question. 

“Oh!” I perked up, “Let’s see if he knows. Tommy, someone uh… yaoirapelvr—alright,” I squinted at the camera and shook my head, giving up reading that name, “—They asked… What is he being rewarded for? Baby, what do you think?” 

“Um,” He tried to turn his head around but could only get so far, just looking over his shoulder,

“Uh… dying my hair? Wouldn’t that be why?” 

I smirked, speaking to the camera, “That’s part of it…” Playfully, I rolled my eyes, “I guess he gets credit!” 

Backing up while studying what was shown on stream in the laptop, I put my hand on his ass, “He’s being rewarded for going out with me, we had dinner, we saw a show, and he got his hair dyed. He was a good boy all day yesterday.” I rounded my hand along his ass cheek. When these scars healed a little, I would give him more. “Tommy hates leaving the house, but he did it for me. So, that’s why you’re being rewarded, baby! Understand?” 

He nodded, turning back around. Head low. He might have started crying. 

I gave him a slap, “Come on, baby.” 

Getting all emotional over this, he made me feel like I never treated him nice. But I did. I did a lot. I mean everything we have I pay for. He stopped working shortly after we started dating. I have always been spoiling him. 

“Tommy,” I squeezed and tugged on his angle. 

“Ma—“ He choked out the first syllable of my name, “—sato…” Such dry sobs like he wasn’t trying to let anyone know he was crying, but it was painfully obvious. 

“Tommy, what?!” 

“I’m— Sorry!” He cried out, “I’m sorry I can’t be normal for you…” his voice trembled.

“Oh you’re fine,” I said, a bit annoyed. I couldn’t deal with this again, not live on stream. “Come on.” I shoved on my gloves, “Time’s up.” Lining the second larger ginger root dildo up to his asshole, I saw him close his eyes and work on steadying his breathing. 

“Okay.” 

Soothing his thigh even if the oil on my glove might sting a little later, I felt the need to relax him as I pushed the ginger in. 

Tommy became afraid to leave our home. I forget exactly when it started, because it slowly built up over time. He thought the whole world hated him. That everyone wanted him dead. And maybe some people said he deserved to die, be skinned alive or be killed by a firing squad, but that wasn’t likely to actually happen. 

He had never done anything illegal with me. And even if he had, which he hadn’t, I’d never admit that. 

Chapter Text

On March 2nd at 10 am Eastern Standard Time, even though I was born in Japan, I waited so no one could catch us on a technicality. I excused myself from class to go to the bathroom and called Thomas Aoki. 

“Hello?” He picked up quickly. I think it only rang once. “Akuhara? Is that you?” 

“Yes,” I laughed, almost giggling. I was so happy, leaning into the bathroom stall, “Thomas?” 

“I thought we weren’t supposed to talk—“ 

“Eh?!” I pulled my phone down from my ear to question, “You don’t know my birthday? It’s today!”

“Really?!”  

“Yes! That’s…” I lowered my voice, whispering close to my phone, “That’s why I told you to be in America late February. Are you not?” 

“I-I am… But February passed so…” 

Chuckling, “Oh, did you get sad I had called you?” 

“What?! No!” He objected, “I just got confused… That’s all! I mean, I was thinking you were just pulling a prank!” 

“No, no,” I lightly assured him. “Where are you?” 

“The city.” 

I shrugged to one side, “Okay, more specifically, where are you staying? Do you have a place here? A hotel? A friend you’re with?” 

“Um, not a friend… My parents.” 

“Oh, okay.” I nodded. I had a plan, but he needed to go along with it. “Can you buy a hotel room? I mean, do you have enough money just to book it? I’ll pay you back.” 

Even though I had turned 18 that day, I didn’t know if any hotel would actually sell me a room without my father’s permission. I could have tried. Part of me wanted to see if Thomas would do it before taking that risk. 

“A hotel room?!” 

“Yes,” my laughter might have begun to sound cruel, but I was giddy just hearing him. “We’re going to go on a date and then spend the night together. What’s wrong?” 

“Akuhara…”

“You can say Masaki.” 

While it was nice hearing him refer to someone by my family name after being in America, where the social standard was different, it meant more for him to call me by my first name. We had met in Japan and were using the Japanese way of speaking. Using given names was more for acquaintances. I was intent on making him mine.

“Isn’t that too much?” 

“I didn’t say we had to do anything, but… did you get me any other gift?” I am sure I snickered then. “No? Then—“ The door to the bathroom opened. I shut up. Hitting the button on the side of my phone, I lowered Thomas’s volume. 

“Huh?” He eventually figured out something was wrong, “Akuhara? Are you there?” 

“Yes, yes,” I spoke out, as I heard a guy undo his zipper and pull down his pants to pee, “Mom, I get it. I’ll do it, okay?!” 

“Mom?” The low voice of Thomas questioned. 

“I’ll be home later! Yes, yes Mom.” I made pauses to listen for if he was almost done? “Yup. Love you. Bye.” 

Whoever it was left without washing his hands. 

“Sorry. Somebody came into the bathroom.” 

He sighed, “Akuhara…”

“Use Masaki.”  

“I don’t think this is a good idea. I mean, how could you explain being gone to your dad?” 

Maybe because he was pushing back, or maybe because of the nastiness dwelling inside of me, I started to get kind of mad. “I already told my dad.” 

“W-what?” He gasped, “Told him what?!” 

“That I’m gay. That I liked you. And that I’m asking you out today.”

“Why—why would you tell him all of that?!” He was whispering even though he had no reason to. 

“Because it’s not a crime for me to like you. I had a crush on you, and I waited until I was 18 to ask you to go on a date with me. That's all fine. Are you saying no?” 

“I— I just don’t know… This doesn’t seem…”

“Why did you pick up so fast then?” I fought, accusing him, “Were you going to tell me off? Set me straight? Correct my inappropriate behavior or something?! Well, you haven’t tried to do that at all! So get to it!” 

“M-Akuhara! Stop! It’s not like that!” 

I smacked my fist into the stall. This had been so aggravating. Grating and annoying my whole life. Not just the years I had spent waiting for this day to come. “I know I’m evil and I know I’m cruel for asking you to cross an a moral line… but just do what I want dammit!” I punched a few more times. 

“Hey! Hey! I don’t think that of you!” He shouted back. “Masaki… doesn’t ’Ma’ mean like… to help?” 

He was close. 

“Hello?” 

There was a knock on the bathroom door. One of my teacher’s voices called into the room, “Is everything alright in there?”

As I peeled my hand down from the side of the stall, I answered, “Yes. I’m fine. Sorry.” 

“That's alright,” He could not have cared less. It was probably his free period. “Go back to class when you’re done, alright?” 

“Alright.” 

After waiting a couple of seconds for the teacher to leave, I asked Tommy much, much more calmly, “Will you go out with me? There’s a Japanese restaurant…” I told him where it was, “…I thought it could be fun to go there together and make fun of it— I mean, compare it to actual Japanese food.” 

He took a few long seconds to reply, and when he did, all he said was, “You know some people say I’m not really Japanese since I wasn’t born there—“

“And people say I’m not really either,” I spit back. “Or at least. I was always reminded that I’m half. Half-Japanese, part white, part black.” 

“I… I think you’re very handsome.” 

A smile returned. I melted into my phone. “Thank you. I’m glad you think—“ 

“I mean you’re on TV now and stuff…” He sounded so insecure, “Aren’t you like dating guys? You’ve talked about it on the show...” 

I sighed. "Just meet with me, please?” I was on this semi-scripted reality show about ‘real teens’ and their feelings and opinions on topical issues. Or whatever. Of course, every teen on the show was also a working model. It seemed like a stupid concept when my manager told me to audition, but the pay was good, and they offered me a 2-season contract the summer between sophomore and junior year. 

One of the other guys on the show was on a YouTuber’s podcast, and he talked about hooking up with women vs men and insinuated, basically flat out told everyone, that the guy he had been with was me. 

“I should get back,” I said, opening the stall and stepping out. “I’ll be there tonight. If you don’t want to get the hotel, don’t, but I hope you’ll still come. I really want to see you, Thomas. Please?” 

“I—“ 

“It’s okay. I’ll be waiting for you.” 

This other guy from the show, Kevin, he said he was bisexual, he asked me after he finished, “Do you want me to do the same for you?” 

“No,” I plainly said, getting out from between his legs and up from his bed. 

“Why? I’ll do it!” 

He was so eager. 

He was older than me, but only by a year or so. He had mentioned having a girlfriend in the past, but right now he was single. I had told the producers in early meetings when they asked that I didn't feel comfortable talking about my sexuality, but if they gave me questions about relationships or sex that I would do my best to answer. I might just be vague about it. Convincing that Kevin guy to take me to his room when his parents weren’t home was easy. He was so easy. I didn’t think he’d out me. 

I’d like to think it was an innocent accident, but it happened right after I had refused to see him anymore. 

The boy from my high school understood we were just fuck buddies, why he couldn’t face the reality I didn’t love him and I never had made no sense to me. 

When we started filming season 3, during the winter of my senior year, he cornered me. I ended up screaming at him, “You were just practice!” It caused a whole scene and a bunch of drama to follow. 

Somehow, my side was taken. The producers and executives said they wouldn’t tolerate harassment, which apparently he was doing to me, based on the constant texts and calls.

They assured me they would cut him from the season, which surprised me. He was probably the most popular and well-liked teen on the show. What that told me is these people had no desire to keep me around after I turned 18, no matter the clear incentives. I thought I had 2-3 more years there, until I turned 20 and therefore stopped being a teen, but after that, I knew I needed to find another job. 

Thomas was good-looking as a 23-year-old, though he had kind of a baby-faced, boyish charm to him then. At 26, he had grown out of that just a little. Barely, but he was trying to present himself like he had matured. A button-up shirt and some facial hair, he was carrying himself like an adult, but he still just looked like a failure to launch to me. A guy begging to be claimed. 

I was talking to some girls who had recognized me when I picked him out walking on the sidewalk across the other side of the street. They had taken a picture with me. One girl was telling me she was bi, or lesbian, or trans, or something… I excused myself and waved them off once I spotted him. 

“Sorry, I’m meeting someone. Nice to meet you, though. Have a good one.” 

Chapter Text

“Ma…” He was really struggling now, his legs trembling and his voice coming out cracked between sniffles, “Masaki…”

I undid the latches of the straps retraining his wrists. He had kept the larger piece of ginger root a little over 5 minutes. 

“…It—“ I hadn’t said anything, and the lack of response clearly made him anxious, “—Uh…”’ He hardly moved after I freed his arms. Just staring up at me, tears bubbling in his adorable eyes. His ass was burning. I could tell. But he didn’t want to say that without me prompting him. 

I moved to unrestrain his legs. 

“Baby?” I called for him and I pulled the strap away from one of his calves. 

“Y-yes.” 

“Did you like figging?” I asked, but after a moment or two of his confusion, I gave him an easy option, “You can say yes, no, or maybe.” 

Naturally, he picked it, “Maybe—!” 

“Why maybe?” 

“Um, because, uh, because you putting things…” he started to give an answer but lost confidence. 

“Ah, you like when I play with your butt, so that part is good! But, are you going to tell me you don’t like the pain baby?” 

I laughed, eyeing the camera. 

“Are you no longer a masochist?” 

He twitched. “N-no, I am it just—” 

“Should I…” I walked around the side of his body, still laying bent up against the box in the middle of the table even though nothing was holding him in place. Placing my hand on his back and bending down to meet him at eye level, I teased, “…find another guy?”

“Huh?!” He balked, jumping back and sitting up on his knees, “No, no, no, no, no!” 

“Relax!” I lost it and crawled halfway up onto the table after him. “I would never do that!” A quick glance of  the laptop screen while I wrapped him into a tight embrace reminded me the stream was still going, but I didn’t care. I go over and stop it after. Everybody could hear this. I would love to scream it to the whole world, “You’re mine, Thomas. Forever.” 

Leaning down, I sucked on his neck. Tons of former hickies and bite marks covered from under his jawline to his shoulders. His chest was that much better. At least, his nipples looked almost as abused by me. 

“Forever and ever.” 

As I ran my nails down his back, he whispered, “You probably could find somebody else.” 

“Oh shut up!” I pushed away. “So could you!” 

When I looked over his shoulder I saw the camera. It was probably unlikely that anyone heard or picked up on what he had said. But suddenly, I just didn’t want to deal with it anymore. “Now, go end the stream.” 

He nodded once and moved down from the table. Weak, shaking legs, but nothing so bad he couldn’t walk. It appeared to me like most of the pain was just an uncomfortable feeling inside. He peeked at the laptop then looked into the lense of the camera, and waved timidly. “Hi… everybody. Thanks for watching us. S-sorry we are going to go now. Uh, see you next time, I guess!” 

He went back to the laptop and clicked to turn the livestream off. 

I huffed out a sigh and he exhaled, then turned to me. Though he looked nervous he still ventured to challenge what I said, “I couldn’t find somebody else.” 

“That’s not true,” I argued, “We have thousands of subscribers paying to see you.” 

He shook his head, holding onto the the edge of the laptop for comfort, “No, everyone knows you that’s why—“ 

“Can we agree that we’re both desirable and drop this?” 

I could’ve kept pushing to win the argument. Because I was right. People subscribed to our channel to see content of Thomas getting messed with. If I wasn’t known as that guy who was in that ad or on that show years ago or whatever, I would just be the disembodied arms and legs doing the torture to the main attraction. 

“But…” He looked down, “You could still…” 

“I don’t want to find someone else, I was just joking. If that was too mean, I’m actually sorry.” I told him, sliding off the table and going over. 

Even though the stream had ended, the camera still needed to be turned off. Sometimes we kept filming after and would post that footage later. We were done this time. After turning it off, I grabbed his hands and pulled him over to me slowly. He was getting all insecure. It was a dumb argument, ridiculous to even consider, and it was my fault for thinking it was funny to mention. 

“Tommy,” I stared into his eyes, “I’m not leaving you and I don’t want you you leaving me—“ 

“I couldn’t!” I spat, shaking off the notion, but not in the sort of way super sappy romantic way I might have liked to hear, “I’m all messed up no one would ever—“ 

“Hey, hey,” cradling his face and trying not to laugh, I reassured him, “Any marks I’ve left on you would fade away. Come on, I hate trying to convince you other people would love you, because you’re mine, but they definitely would.” 

He blinked at me then mumbled, “That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know.” I let go of him and shrugged, “But if you keep talking about that I’m not going to give you your reward… And I want to.” 

He clenched my hand. “What? That wasn’t it?” 

“No,” I chuckled, laughing in his face, “Isn’t your ass burning right now? How would that be a reward?” I leaned in and kissed his forehead. Wiped his tears. “Sit down. I’ll go get it.” 

Sitting may have made the pain worse, but he sat back on the table anyway after I told him to. 

About 6 years together and he still was bringing up the same old concerns. It didn’t used to be such an issue. Hearing other people get so heated about it, assuming everything about him, made it worse. 

“I was really happy you went out with me.” 

Across the room were cabinets and drawers filled with most of our sex gear. I opened the cabinet. He probably started to piece together what his reward was when he heard the beeping of each button I pressed, unlocking a safe. 

“It was nice.” 

I thought about telling him I missed doing that. Then, I reconsidered thinking it would only make him feel guilty for another thing. Something else that did not really matter. I had him. There was no point upsetting him, I loved that he was always home waiting for me. 

“Yeah,” He agreed, “I liked the play.” 

“Me too,” I replied, throwing the door to the safe open. “Sitting up in a box was cool too, huh?” 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah it was.” 

When I spun back around to him, I was pleased to see the reaction I just knew he would be having. Yes, he was reeling with anticipation. Jittery. Excited. He was focused on the key in my hand. 

“Tommy…” I called for his attention. 

It took him a second, but he looked at me, “Masaki, am I going to— Are you going to let me cum?” 

Slowly, I nodded. “Yes,” I approached him, getting on my knees, “If you can.” 

Repeating the reason why, would that have made it really sink into his mind? It had been so long. Him going out with me meant so much. I couldn’t get if he was understanding that, so I taunted him when I wanted to keep reminding him how much I love him. 

“It’s been a while hasn’t it?” I unlocked his cage. “Do you even remember how?” I pulled the metal carefully away with one hand and set my other at the base of his penis. His balls were as swollen as they always were. After I placed the empty cage beside him, I poked at his balls with my finger a few times then grabbed them. 

“Ma— Masaki…” He gasped as I tugged a little. 

“What?” I sneered, glaring up at him, “Are you going to cum already?” 

Before he could answer I moved my hand up the length of his penis. Not that long, but if I aimed the pressure just on my thumb and pointer finger I could stroke back and forth. 

“Masaki!” He locked onto my shoulders. Desperation had risen quickly. “Slow—“ 

“You were such a good boy…” I rounded the tip and taunted his hole. “Tommy, cum for me.” 

“But—“ his dick was twitching in my hand. 

“I don’t care if it gets on me.” I let go of his balls and ran my other hand up his dick, “It’s alright.” I snickered, “I don’t even think you can shoot that far.” 

He gave up, ejaculating small streams onto my finger until there was enough I had to cup my palm around the head. “…Masaki…” he trembled. His eyes shut as he released into my hand, then collapsed forward on my shoulder. Sobs. Hugging me tightly he started crying. “I… love you. Th—“ 

“Do you not like ejaculating?” I had been skeptical because he had been miserable the last few times. If he thanked me so falsely again, I wouldn’t be able to stand it without getting annoyed. 

“I do…” He whimpered, sliding off the table and almost falling off. 

Pushing him back, I shook my head and laughed. 

“Tommy, it’s okay if you don’t anymore, actually that’s an exciting development!” 

“It is?” He sniffled. 

“Yeah,” I think my smile was comforting to him, but I was grinning because I was far too pleased to explain, “Isn’t it kind of cool that getting off for you is now another way for me to hurt and shame you?”  

“Huh— Oh, well…” He blushed and looked to the side. He liked that. I loved that. We were a perfect match. 

“So it’s a good reward then, right?” 

My older, submissive, masochist boyfriend nodded. I’d call him unemployed too, but he can take some credit for our channel revenue. 

“Go shower,” I pushed off of his legs to stand back up, “I’ll make dinner.” The inside of his asshole was probably still stinging though he had not mentioned it or acted like it since the stream had stopped. He eyed the cage on the table next in him. “After,” I told him, “I’ll lock you back up after.” 

He sighed, relieved. His comfort came from being controlled by me, and even though I was pretty certain that was the case since he had become a major shut-in, that was confirmed for me at that moment. 

Chapter Text

Maybe a bit over eager, I crossed the street to go greet him. It was crowded, but not usually so, there were always going to be people around in Chinatown, New York City. It wasn’t quite time for nightlife yet, but late enough that people were out and about.

I stopped him with my hand on his chest and a smile. He hadn’t spotted me. I caught him off guard. He had been staring down at his phone. Even though he had grown up around here, he looked just like a clueless tourist. 

“Thomas, the restaurant’s over there.” I pointed my thumb back over my shoulder. 

He hooked his head up, staring wide-eyed at me, “Akuhara…” 

After a second he took my hand just to pull it off. 

“You’re coming to meet me right?” 

My hand was in his. 

He was hesitant. Shifty, looking around nervously. I don’t know what he thought could happen. We were just two guys getting dinner. That wasn’t a crime. Even two guys holding hands, regardless of who they were or how older they are, was just fine. 

At first, I had told my father that Thomas was the son of a family in the neighborhood my mother and I were from in Japan. That he was from America and he had given me advice on moving here years ago. Then, I confessed to him that I had a crush on Thomas. My father was aware of my intentions. He was supportive of me after learning I was gay and all. 

I was graduating high school at the end of the month. Thomas might have preferred I had waited until then to call him. But I didn’t want to wait anymore. I would have hooked up with him the day we met if doing so wasn’t such an issue. 

“You look good,” I complimented him and it wasn’t exactly a lie. He did look like a sloppy man who was trying very hard to put himself together. And, I had guessed that maybe he was coming from work based on what he was wearing. The thought of him working made me laugh internally. His hair could have been combed and styled better. He looked stick skinny like he was hardly eating. The fact he still looked like a mess after the years since I met him was what looked good about him. There was a ton of room in his life for me to take care of him. 

“…Akuhara…” 

I squeezed his hand tighter and pulled, “Let’s go eat. My treat. I just got my acting money!” There was a trust fund set up for child actors so their parents were unable to take all the money they made. My father was good about not mishandling or stealing the money I had been earning, though there were a few times I helped pay  bills. He had helped me make my own checking account when I was 15. Turning back to Thomas as I led him to the crosswalk, I asked, “Do you have a job?” 

“Yes,” He laughed a little, “I’m 26, how could I not?” 

Waiting for the signal to change, I chuckled to myself, then told him as he caught up to me, “There’s no rules. You don’t have to have a job…” 

He stared at me for a second. 

“R-right…” 

The light changed and the walk signal went on. I tugged on his hand, “Come on.” 

“Aku— Masaki!” He called my given name. 

Only a step or two away from the sidewalk, I turned back to him, “What?” Part of me was worried he was going to call it off right there. My grip loosened on his hand. If he came out to meet me just to tell me off for good, there was nothing else I could do. I had convinced him to wait, but at that moment I feared he had just been waiting to let me down easy. 

“You, um, you look good too.” 

After he said it, I felt like I had had my big break.

“Yeah?” 

Sucking his lip and looking away, he must have been embarrassed. I step back to him. It felt like his compliment, even if it was just reciprocating mine to him, was the best thing I had ever heard in my life. He wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t rambling off random sweet nothings to a stranger with false confidence. He was shy and nervous because he was admitting his true feelings. 

“You think so?” I spoke softly, close enough to do so. I would have put my hands around his waist and pulled him toward me if that wasn’t pushing the limit of how forward I could be in public. 

“Well, you’re a model… right?” 

“Yes,” I laughed once, leaning in, whispering, “I am but is that all you meant?” 

“I—“ He gripped my shoulder and created distance, “I just think you’ve grown up a lot, that’s all!” 

The insistence behind his words was so confusing to me. With 3 years apart, I probably did look older to him. The last time I had seen him I was still a kid. I was shorter and smaller then. My hair was in the dorkiest semi-bowl cut shape. The version of me he was seeing on the streets of New York had to have looked more grown up than the junior high boy from Japan. But, at the same time, it was almost like he was protesting. I didn’t get it. 

I blinked. The light changed again. We hadn’t made it even 10% across the street. 

“Thomas, step back.” 

He peeked back then went up on the curve. Without looking me in the eye he muttered, “It’s not a bad thing.” 

“Hm?” I glanced over at him. He was clenching his hands hard inside of his pockets. 

“I wasn’t saying that you looking grown up is bad, not at all,” He shook his head at the ground. I tried to wrap my head around what he was thinking because we were not on the same wavelength there. He complimented my looks. I never would have thought he was implying he disliked that I got older. “It’s just…” 

I thought about filling in an answer for him. My first assumption that maybe seeing that I had changed over the years was forcing him to accept that I was an adult like he was. That we could be together. So there really was no issue. But then, he continued before I felt bold enough to jump in. 

“Aren’t you seeing that guy from the show you’re on?” 

“Huh?!” I freaked out, practically screaming, “No! No! We’re nothing. I’m single! You heard about that…?” As he nodded slightly, I huffed out, “Crap. Thomas it’s really the truth that I’m not with him. Please believe me!” 

He peeked over at me. A little smile as if he was telling me to quiet down because I was getting too loud. “It’s okay, you should be with people your age.”

“Please. You don’t mean that.” 

“I do.” 

The signal changed.

People went around us. 

“You’re lying to me.” I asserted, keeping my voice low even though my temper was boiling over. “You kept up with my stupid acting and modeling career this whole time. And you just brought up me being with another guy. And you came here. I won’t accept that you aren’t interested.”

I was ready for him to call me selfish or narcissistic. At the very least I thought he would throw my words back at me and blame me. 

“C-can we talk somewhere alone…?” He walked to the side, tugging on my arm and bringing me over. 

“If you get a hotel room.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Fine.” 

“Fine,” I mocked. “You could just say you want to! And hey, weren’t we going to eat first? I’m trying to treat you to dinner here not rush into bed—”

“Akuhara!!” He quickly covered my mouth. “Shush!” 

“What…?” I asked, laughing. Mentioning sleeping together was too much for him. I never planned on wining him without dining him, but have sex with him was all I was thinking about. I got him to whisper what he would want me to order for him. He said stir-fry and I told him that it probably won’t be all that good. At least not as good as it is in Japan. 

Thomas squinted at me, giving me a stern look, “You know my dad works at a Japanese place in New Haven.” 

“Well then we should go there.” 

I smiled. 

I was being elitist, or purist, but I didn’t really care. Japanese food from a fusion restaurant with Korean food made by a Chinese lady and her two sons… I could make fun of that a little bit, couldn’t I? 

Thomas told me we couldn’t go to the Japanese restaurant his dad worked at. Ever. 

“Why not?” I asked with a laugh. 

“He hates me.” 

“Well, I love you,” It was such a dumb reply. I wish I hadn’t said it. Stupid and naive. The wrong place and the wrong time.

He turned his body away from me, slowly  letting his hands go from my shoulder and my wrist where they had been. He had tried to keep me quiet. He had grabbed me to pull me over. But, he hadn’t stopped touching me till I went and dropped a bomb like that. 

I reached out for him. 

“Listen, you can go into a hotel first and call me to tell me the room number. I’ll meet you there—“ I had both his hands in mine before I knew it, “We can talk… and order food. Nothing has to happen…” I looked down at him. I really wanted more to happen, but I needed to at least get him in a hotel room for anything to happen at all. 

“Okay,” He quietly agreed and asked, “Where?” 

I must have smiled so big that it let on how much I had been desperately waiting for this, because there was no way he could refuse going all the way with me after. 

Finally, after so long, it was like I had him wrapped around my finger. Dancing in the palm of my hand or whatever. I knew if I had it my way, back then on my 18th birthday or even earlier than that, Thomas Aoki would no longer be his own man. Instead, he would always be an extension of me. 

And so what if he was miserable?! That would make it all the more enjoyable. 

Chapter Text

I can’t remember what year actually, but we stopped celebrating Tommy’s birthdays after a while. Maybe when he was supposed to turn 28 or 29… Definitely before he switched over into his 30s. Still, we kept making a big deal out of mine for some reason. Tommy always remembered the day, even though he was dreary eyed and out of it most of the time. 

A cake was sent to our apartment. 

I didn’t even know it was coming. But, I received a  call from the front desk of our building that there was a delivery that should be picked up right away since it was perishable. So, even as I was getting ready, I had to go down and get the package, then I stood there staring at the mystery box and taking it anyway like a clueless idiot. I felt so dumb. 

It said to Thomas Aoki. It, and the person who dropped it off, didn’t look sketchy. I figured he must have really ordered something on his own. 

In little moments like that, he shows off his fleeting independence. That he still had the ability to surprise and pull things over on me. 

After seeing it was a birthday cake, I realized he was just trying to do something nice for me, but what my pet didn’t know was that all I wanted was for him to be completely under my thumb… just struggling to get out. Getting around me even after years of trying to control and brainwash him was only managing to prove the opposite. 

The cake, while from an actual bakery not a hunk of store-bought crap, looked fairly standard and typical. I can’t really explain why, but I started getting upset. Whether I was angry or sad or happy I don’t know. Tommy was passed out in our bedroom. If I had known he had ordered the cake and was expecting to celebrate with me before work, I may have gone easier on him. It didn’t feel right to wake him up now after going at him all night. 

He probably had picked out the cake a while ago and forgot about it because I had corrupted his mind so much. Poisoned him beyond the point of return. Tommy is the only person I ever allow myself to hurt anymore. I never meant to curse him to a life of painful existence, but I did want him to be mine. And, I’m such a terrible person that all I can do is be evil to another. 

I took out a knife and stabbed it into the center of the cake. Then, sliced it down the length. 

Placing the plate of cake on my pillow, I leaned across the bed and flicked Tommy’s forehead. “Wake up!” 

“Huh?!” I jerked awake, then turned to look at me. “Masa… Masaki—!” 

I picked up my hand just enough to slap him across the face, “What the fuck is this?!” 

After his head beat into his pillow, he blinked his eyes open and managed to find the piece of cake. “Oh!” He exclaimed joyously, “H-happy birthday!” 

“Get up!” I started pulling on his body so he would sit. “What the hell were you thinking?! That was humiliating! I had no idea this was coming and you couldn’t be bothered to go—!” I groaned and grabbed the place. Shoving it forward at him, I demanded, “Eat it.” 

“…” He peaked down at the cake, then back up at me, “B-but it’s your birthday, Masaki.” 

I glared. 

And he scooped up a chunk with his fingers. 

“Don’t you ever do that again. Got it?!” 

He nodded and swallowed. 

“I mean it. That was stupid, Tommy. If you want to do something, you run it by me! What would you have done if I left for work already, huh?!” I dropped the plate on his lap over the covers and shifted out of the bed. “You would have been fucked! The cake would have melted or you would have had to go down and get it yourself!” 

He chewed another hand-grabbed piece. His puppy-dog eyes stared at me as I lectured him. 

I sighed, “Whatever… You don’t get it… I’ll make you understand it when I get home.” 

He perked up. 

I snickered, because the idea he had going through his head was correct. “Yeah, I’m gonna punish you big time. Especially because you haven’t even apologized!” 

“I’m sorry…” He said with his mouth full of cake, like a precious little angel. 

I rolled my eyes, “It doesn’t count if you say it after I ask you. Come on.” I stepped close to him and snatched his hand before he could stuff his mouth again. “Let me try some before I go.” 

He pushed his pointer and middle finger out. 

Licking his fingertips, I got a taste of the red velvet cake. I said I liked that years ago when I first tried it with him. He really got stuck on that, I guess. 

“Hm…” I could tell he was waiting for my review, so tensed up, “It's decent.” 

“Good!” He breathes out. 

I pull my hand back and slowly turn away. He didn’t have to get me anything. I wouldn’t have been mad if he forgot my birthday entirely. All I ask of him is to let me mistreat him. And he’s too unintelligent to realize that’s unreasonable. It made me emotional to witness a creature so insistent on being complicit in its own demise. “Tommy, feel free to have more if you want it. Just put it back in the fridge.” I told him as I headed out of the bedroom, “…And thanks.” 

“Masaki!” He cried after me, and when I glanced back he smiled and told me, “You’re 24.” 

“I know,” I shrugged. 

“That’s… so old isn’t it?” 

“Not really.” I felt like I had to make my stance on his age very clear, or else he would start asking me about that, “Since 32 isn’t old either.” 

I forget who said it. Me or him. But one of us mentioned how soon it will be ten years since we first met, me probably, and then I couldn’t help it. I took the plate of cake away from him, I threw my clothes off, and I fucked him again. Usually I’m never late for work, but I figured if I brought up my birthday, and suffered the consequences for doing so, I would be let off the hook. 

Almost ten years had passed since we met… and six since we started dating. 

Chapter Text

“You’re really letting a younger guy take advantage of you? Do you enjoy being debased?” 

I had his arms and legs pinned down. I’m not sure if I became bigger, like physically larger than Thomas, until a little bit later, but I could still hold him down pretty easily. He stared up at me, helplessly. Which meant, obviously, the answer was probably yes. 

As I bit his neck and slipped inside him, I melted to the sound of his shaky breath. I had waited to have him under me for what felt like my entire life, even though it was just a portion. My obsession with this man was unhealthy. I was well aware of that, but it was exciting, so I decided not to care that I cared so much. “Tommy…” I whispered into his ear and gripped him by his bushy head hair, “You’re all mine!” 

He huffed, gasping for air. 

I slid out and tossed him to the side, rolling him over onto his back and climbing on top of him. “You’re done being a whore!” 

“Aku—“ 

I pushed back inside of him and laughed as I pulled his thighs up against mine. “Unless it’s for me. Then you can be slutty, Tommy…” 

We never made it to dinner. I just met him up in the hotel room, and as soon as I was up there, all I wanted to do was jump him. My prey was caught in the trap I had set the second the door shut. 

“Okay…” He mumbled, nodding and wearily reaching out for my arms. Hooking his legs and locking his ankles behind me, he tried to be an active participant in the exchange. “Masaki…” He curled up and held onto me. “I missed you.” 

I bucked my hips forward, jutting deeply into him, “Shh…” He didn’t know what he was even talking about. He was out of it all those years ago when we met. And he didn’t even like me like that back then. I was the one who had begged him to come here once I was old enough. I ran my hand through his hair, so messy and unkempt. If I had to take care of him forever, starting right then, or even from that first day he was drunk on the street in Japan, I didn’t really mind. “ I missed you, stupid.” 

With the palm of my hand, I gripped and cupped his buttcheek. I didn’t know how I was going to keep Tommy with me, but I was going to there was no doubt about that. Having sex with him was much better than all that nonsense and messing around I was doing just to make sure I could handle fucking him. 

He squeezed tightly as I came inside him. 

“…Masaki…” He softly said my name. 

“Yeah?” I smiled, staring out at the hotel room. Curtains closed tightly, but a little light got through since it wasn’t totally dark outside yet. 

“You’re good…” He rubbed his hands down my back, draping his limp body over me. 

I snickered, “Thanks.” I was only trying to be good to impress him. To make him want me, rely on me, and require me. I couldn’t allow him to run away or escape from me so easily, especially since there was no legitimate reason we needed to be apart anymore. “Who’s better, me or some gross, ugly, old Japanese men?” 

“Akuhara—“ 

I pulled him back so he had to face me. 

“I mean it, you’re done with them.” 

He shook his head slightly, “I haven’t…”

Gripping his face, I tried to convince him desperately, “All you need is me, Tommy. So give up.” 

“Give up?”

“Don’t fight it, I mean,” I shrugged, “Just be with me and forget about everyone else.”

“I just, Masaki, don’t you think—“ 

Pushing him back, I surprised him enough to shut him up. “Nope!” I tugged on his legs so he would be laying down flat. His penis was a bit soft from leaking out as we were hooking up, but with a little touching, I could get it hard again. “I don’t give a fuck about what happened before. If you do,” I stared down at him across his naked body, “Then take responsibility for it.” 

When I opened my mouth and took him in, Tommy began wiggling and whimpering. He had his hand in my head, kind of attempting to push me off, “Akuhara!” 

I wasn’t budging. 

He had to love me. 

I decided he didn’t get a choice, and I forced that upon him. He had to be with me. 

Quickly, he came. His load rushed into my throat, and I sucked it down. 

I patted his leg and lifted my head up, “Nice job.” 

“Akuhara, seriously?” He tucked his legs back. 

“What? What did I do?” I asked, glaring at him, and he couldn’t say a thing back about that.

After a few silent seconds, he sighed, “Okay, do you want me to do you?” 

“Yeah,” I smiled, opening my legs, “But… Uh, I wanna move your head for you.” 

“Huh?” 

I pointed at the floor, “Kneel down there and I’ll come jam it down your throat, then I’ll—“ I motioned skull-fucking him, the air between my hands being a simulation of his face falling down on my crotch. 

He stared at me, a bit horrified but probably a bit turned on too. “You are a little devil.” 

I grinned, for the first time hearing that didn’t really bother me, “Yeah, I guess I am.” 

He relented, sliding off the bed and getting to the floor. I went over to him. “You don’t feel bad, do you?” I asked, looking down at him. 

“Eh?!” 

“You shouldn’t,” I told him, “I am glad that I met you, Tommy, but I don’t care about any of that other shit.” I would have been with him three years ago, the entire time, if I could have been. If I didn’t have to play it safer and smarter. 

I took his hands, holding both of them over his head. 

“Be my boyfriend, Tommy.” 

He blinked, “When did you land on Tommy?” 

“Thomas doesn’t suit you.” I laughed. Thomas sounds like a well-adjusted member of society, a contributing adult. He is just an overgrown child. “I like Tommy better.” 

“Oh,” He gulped, eyeing my cock hanging in front of his face, “I don’t know if I can be your boyfriend…” 

“You will be.” 

“Okay.” He agreed. 

“Because you like me, right Tommy?” I questioned, taunting him. “Not because you felt pity for me. Not because you wanted to clear things up or cut things off with me. Because you think I’m hot.” 

He exhaled, not denying or objecting but refusing to fully agree. 

I pinched his hands together in one grasp, then tapped the tip of my dick against his lips with my other hand. 

“Say it.” 

“What?” 

“That you think I’m hot.” 

He closed his eyes and nodded, “…you’re hot…” 

“And I’m gonna be better for you than anybody else, Tommy, so think about that!” I hit his mouth a bit harder. “So just don’t even bother resisting anymore.” 

“I really do like you…” He muttered.

I chuckled, giving the back of his head a push and pulling his hands forward. “I know.” That was all I really wanted, him to like me. And it felt so good that I so obviously still had his interest. “Tommy—“ I began facefucking him, “You’re gonna be such a good boyfriend for me!” I was going to make him into my perfect little toy. The years of patiently waiting felt so worth it with him finally under my control. 

He puffed and spat out most of it afterwards, making a whole mess on the ground. The bed was pretty bad, too. I called to ask for a change of sheets. I tried to wash the ruined ones when Tommy went to sleep, but a housekeeping lady just took them from me in the laundry room. I wasn’t able to tell her what they were all wet up from and told her there had been a spill. She probably figured it out, though, right? From the smell…? 

Besides dirtying a hotel room, having sex with Tommy on my 18th birthday was very successful. We had reconciled and decided to be together. I had gotten exactly what I wanted.

Chapter Text

“Masaki…” 

“Nuh-uh,” I told him, giving him one chance to correct himself, but I was going to punish him either way. 

“D-daddy…” He moaned, hugging me tightly. 

“Good job, baby.” I shoved him down, pressing his face to the cold floor. A quick spank on the ass was enough for his mistake. He yelped, but I had no idea if it was the shit inside him or on him that was causing a spike of pain and suffering. Either way it was exciting. I wasn’t going to be taking his cage off, there wasn’t even a chance of that and he surely had no false delusions or hope that I would. “Do you want this out?” I tugged lightly at the looped end of a long chain of anal beads. 

He coughed, clearing his throat, and answered me sweetly, “Whatever you want… Daddy.” 

I smiled looking down at him. “I don’t know… I can’t tell if you learned your lesson, or if you’re just gonna pull some bullshit again next year.” 

He turned his head and attempted to find my face in order to talk directly to me. “I just want to do something for you…” He meant for my birthday, but it pissed me off that he could have been saying it more generally. That everything he ever says could be because of guilt, pity, and nonsense like that. I bent down and slapped his face. More of a tap than a hard hit. 

“You’re the baby, Tommy! I take care of you!” Leaning down over his body, I kissed the spot on his cheek I just slapped. “You don’t have to do anything for me, except be with me for the rest of your life.” I picked up his body and kissed his lips. “I guess my birthday makes me pretty angry now, baby.” 

“That’s okay…” He reached up and tossed my hair back. “Do you want to stop celebrating it, Masaki?” 

I nodded, looking into his eyes as I decided I was done worrying about the whole issue. I was rewriting and redacting things that had happened between us, because there was no possible way anyone else would ever know. Those past experiences didn’t matter to me. Tommy was mine and I got to be with him. In the end, what I don’t say can’t hurt anybody but him and I. He’ll forever feel bad, and I’ll forever be annoyed that he feels that way. 

He’s someone I can enact all my violent thoughts on, who will let me without any argument. Because when he was 23, he crossed paths with the Devil and got turned into a monster. 

He wiped his thumb under my eye. I guess I was tearing up.

“Masaki?” 

I clung onto him, even though the bottom half of his all messed up at the moment and the hard floor was incredibly uncomfortable. 

“I don’t care if you get older,” He reassured me. 

“I know. I’m not dumb! You wouldn’t have stayed with me this long if you cared about that,” I sucked in my heavy breath. “I just… Ugh, Maybe it is dumb!” 

“What?” He rubs my arm, softly caressing me. 

“I hate that you can think for yourself!” 

He laughed a little and it was like it burned my ears. I pushed him off of me and stood up, running my wrist over my face, “What’s so funny, huh?! Wanna laugh at me again, Tommy?!” I pushed him over, with my foot, and kicked the loop of the anal beads. His limbs flailed as he tried to catch himself. 

“Masaki!” 

I tapped his ass with the base of my heel, “I’m in charge here, so there’s no doing shit behind my back ever again, got it?!”

“—Yes… Daddy…” 

I let out a proud snicker and knelt down beside him. 

“Doesn’t it make you happy?” I threaded my finger through the loop and pulled on the end of the anal beads, “That you don’t ever have to take any responsibility for your actions…” As one ball came out of his asshole, he gasped loudly. “Because, I’m the one in control of you, baby.” 

“Y-yes…” He managed to get out. 

“You never did anything wrong,” I yanked another and kissed his back gently, “How could you when I have always decided everything you do?” His voice crying out the beautiful noise of torture blended so nicely with my coaxing words rewiring his brain. Maybe one day I could completely wipe his mind, but I don’t think I would choose to erase mine. 

I liked meeting Thomas Aoki near the end of my junior high days in Japan, even if it wasn’t really right, because for better or for worse… I had him exactly where I had wanted him.

When all the beads were out and he was completely gaping, I lifted him up onto the table and stuffed myself inside him. “Baby,” I moaned, “Let’s go back…”

It took him a while to respond, maybe because he was exhausted from getting all those beads out of his ass, or maybe because I had let him drink too much and have too much cake, “...back to where… where we first—?” 

“Yeah,” I must be messed up in the head because something made me want to relive it, “I want to…” He knew the rest, we both knew the rest. He did things wrong and I did things wrong. We were even. I guess. At least that’s the best thing, the easiest thing to tell ourselves. 

He was hungover, or maybe still drunk. So why does everyone blame him? 

“Tommy!” I sank deep inside him and released. Part of me wanted to scream at him. We had to go back to Japan. We talked about how I had scheduled a trip the other day because his grandmother had died and we needed to pay our respects to his family. But, I didn’t really mind that he had forgotten. I massaged his shoulder, and instead reminded him, “I love you… stupid.” 

He smiled, relaxing his head against his forearm. 

“Masaki…” 

“You don’t have to tell me.” I felt so good about it, “I decided you loved me forever ago.” 

Right when he accepted my deal and waited for me.