REVENGE ⤜ hall x delicate ⤛

[Delicate]

Title: Revenge
Authors: @hallucinate @Delicate
Pairing: MxM
Genre: Non-consensual, heavy torture, race play, forced fem.
Setting: Realistic, Modern.

---

First, I get him inside. The man's wrists were shaking nervously. He paced around the garage reworking his scheme once more. Don't shoot him at the door step. He hissed at himself, his trembling fingers clumsily finding his chin. I need to get him inside, he turned around, having reached the end of his spacious garage, and retraced his path; a stressed general honing his battle plans and struggling to find a shred of certainty. How do I get him inside? his teeth chipped on his fingertips as he pondered his options. I just say I need to talk to him.. he'll let me through.. he dismissed one obstacle and jumped to another. Once inside I shoot him.. I can't miss..

Choe Bae's breath outpaced his steps. Beads of sweat accumulated on his temples, weighing his mind as he hyperventilated. His vision hazed and his stomach growled; dark spots swimming out from the corners of his eyes. He dug through his pockets and found a chocolate bar, his third of the evening. Ever since his father had denied him his vice, Choe developed an insatiable hankering for sweets. He scratched his hairless arm, the bare skin soon an irritated red, the aftermath of countless swipes. What do I do with the body? He clenched his jaw and his teeth ground one another, the gritting freezing the thumping headache in one spot. Sinking down, Choe hugged his knees in the corner in an attempt to placate his body from its tremor. His teeth bit on his pink lips and he tasted blood. It'll pass.. it'll pass.. he rallied his patience and before long, anxiety released him from her cold embrace. Choe sighed in relief.

No longer quivering, the man heaved himself and steadily walked towards his red Ferrari. The silver pistol shimmered behind the windshield, safely nested between the driver seat and the armrest. I probably should've sold this, he whispered to himself. The luxury car was his graduation gift from his mother. It was given to Choe only a year ago, and parting ways with it proved difficult for the Korean playboy. Without his parent's financial sponsorship, however, Choe found himself driven to drastic measures in search of cash. This is a more stable long term plan, he convinced his conscience, reaffirming his mischievous plot.

He turned on his phone and accidentally turned on his camera. Choe gaped at his reflection in the in the phone. His black pupils were smaller, his eyes a tint yellower. The silver dye on his hair was slightly wearing off giving it a black fade near some of the roots. He'd been pale, and meth withdrawal only made him paler. Choe bit on his lips reminiscing about his old college self. Back when he looked healthy and vibrant, the man had resembled a dashing k-pop star, and dozens of college girls swooned over his lithe, androgynous form. His soothing voice and his family wealth were enough to distract girls from his lacking height and physique. Thanks to his charisma and affluence, Choe waded his way through college merely by striking the right friendships. Among those strategic friendships was one that had blossomed into a business partnership. Choe's fingers brushed against the cold metal. Wielding the weapon made him feel terrified and powerful. Terrified of the power I have.

"Donnie! I'm on my way to your place right now"

He deleted the text. It sounded too urgent and suspicious. I need to sound chill.

"Hey Don! Can we talk we talk? I'm on my way to your place right now!"

He hit send. The garage door slid upwards, and the Ferrari roared into the streets of Seattle. Was that too many exclamation marks?

Choe later arrived in front of his friend's house. He parked the car hastily along the side of the road and stepped out into the weeping skies, the rain instantly marring his suit. His gun was tucked in his pocket like a pirate's dagger, but it pinned him like an anchor. He bit on his lips and walked towards the door, his heart pounding viciously with each step towards his prey. Shaken by doubt, Choe swallowed his fears and rang the door bell, hoping to dear God that Donnie was home. Its going to work, he scratched his reddened arm again, and I'll have it all to myself. Gradually, Choe gathered his wits and reclaimed his composure; his breathing and heartbeat both subsiding until..

What the fuck do I do with the body?​

 

[hades.]

Donnie was playing the most dangerous game. A man who often lets his imagination get the best of him. A man who over-thinks and loves to solve puzzles. In his mind, he was a mad genius. He understood well how life works, falling victim to life's small failures to get where he was today. Alive, healthy, and doing well for himself. He didn't own a Ferrari, but life had been favorable at times. The price of dealing with a partner who had over the years let him down. He wasn't sure what had happened to Choe, but he was far from your stereotypical Asian. Donnie found him to be fraudulent and lazy, a plethora of bad choices that Donnie quietly just let roll off him.

For the past week, Donnie had been having nightmares. Being shot going into the office or going out to his car. Coming home to deal with a group of Yakuza. He wasn't sure why who, or how many but he knew his time was idling by. And tonight something especially eerie was in the air, a sense of ominous mischief masquerading around every shadow from car lights passing by. Unsure if he was in fear of Choe's recurring suspiciousness and seemingly unquenchable greed, Donnie decided to do what he always did. Go with his gut.

And he did. He planned the best he knew how. Choe had been at his house before. Donnie figured Choe would plan for a particular layout of the slender three-story condo, or whoever he hired would inquire. So Donnie spent most of his week constantly changing rooms. Bedrooms became offices, his in particular changed to the second floor instead of the top as to look down the hallway, staring at the front door in waiting. Though he hadn't mastered the art of sleeping with one eye open, he mastered the ability to sleep through this month's cycle of confusion and paranoia.

He also purchased a dog, or more rather, a killing machine with hulking muscles that put the meanest of Rottweilers to shame. His name was He barely barked or growled, much like his new master. One of the very few words and a ton of actions. Around its thick neck plated the name Douglas MacArthur, named after US Commanding General during the Korean conflict. At the very least, the companion was capable of saving his life. Hopefully.

"Mac." He commanded. The dog's clipped back ears twitched. His cold wet nose trailing up to catch the scent of a small treat before a pat on the head. "Good boy."

He felt his phone vibrate before it dinged its loud double chime. He reached into his torn faded jeans to retrieve his phone. Choe was inscribed in the digital text that scrolled across the faceplate of his nostalgic and simple flip phone. Why don't you call me like a fucking man, you pussy? He enjoyed the communication skills of it, using them to sharpen the chisels of his charisma. It wasn't that he was a man who refused change, or smart technology, but despised it as a phone. He could picture Choe now, as he had many times over, clicking away on that thing like some schoolgirl while he is doing business dealings over the phone while typing out extensive emails.

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮
Hey Don! Can we talk we talk?
I'm on my way to your place right now!
╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯
​

Choe's message sent a cringe down Don's spine, forcing him to shudder. He even sounds like some skirt. Some bad broad he used to date or some unknown love affair. And though it repulsed him, it sent the softest tingle down his six-inch flaccid sex as it started to swell at the meer notion. He had often thought about Choe if perhaps he was Chloe, some Asian hoe his imagination loved to get to know or some similar looks alike he had beaten off to online. He couldn't help they all looked alike to him and it caused for a good comedic relief to rub one out to the thought of raping a business partner who's only been fucking him in the ass for the last few years.

Mmm… He cooed.

It was arousing, to some degree, the contrast between the two. Donnie would never say it in or around the office, but Choe from far away looked like a whore in his book with those roots and bleached hair. He had never dyed his hair in his life, but some have suspiciously inquired how his locks hold such a magnificent midnight black, that combed over neatly at the top and faded on the sides. Even their skin, as Don wore a marvelous manly long beard that had routinely been barbered by the best in Seattle. It didn't steal from the definition in his thick cheekbones and defined browline that always cast his hues to a colder shade of blue.

He paced the carpet, feeling the carpet beneath his feet as they grazed across it. He too was unsure of what to say. Going with his first, more perverse instinct, he lured him like some tender master. He put the phone into his pocket, failing to write back directly. He still had some finishing touches to the house. The living room.

As one would enter through the door from the spiraling metal stairs that lead up from the basement and garage, just down the short hall that made up the foyer of the house, an archway to the left rested the living room. The TV usually against the wall of the window nearest to the door had been rearranged with the furniture as to not be spotted. He moved the tv against the bar island that divided the kitchen. He dimmed every light, leaving only a long lamp on in the furthest corner of the room. It was positioned to hopefully survey his shadow down the hall, while enough to beam down a light ominous shade over Don's favorite black suede loveseat.

Ferrari has a distinct sound to car enthusiasts, one Don was particularly familiar with. Though he drove a simple stylish but economical Infiniti, the thought of such extravagance enthralled his escapade of exotic cars to no end. He watched the vehicle turn into his driveway, lighting up at the house for a moment to give sight to the darkroom.

First, he reached behind his back to retrieve his gun. A typical Glock nine-millimeter with no bells or whistles. Placing it on the armrest he then pulled out his phone while taking a seat down on his preferred side of the couch. He started his reply to the text:

Kool. In the shower. Cum on in.

He snickered. Pressing send on his phone before tossing it over beside him. It wasn't too far fetched of a lie, as the entire house smelt like his body wash that had the aroma of crisp icy ozone, a mixture of sandalwood, mint, and white pear. Though he had dried off, his thick black chest hair still glistened from the beads of moisture that drilled down only to be caught in it. One hand lifted up the gun, using the armrest as a prop to keep his hand stable while keeping it hidden in the faint shadow that loomed over it, barely visible.​

 

[Delicate]

The body! What do I do with the body?​

​

The recurring question haunted him again and again. The stern, doubtful voice in his head made him tremble with indecision over the missing piece to the puzzle. I should bury it. He considered immediately, the ease of the solution a tempting comfort. I could dump it in the Duwamish. He pondered another idea, reflecting on how difficult it would be to locate the corpse in a massive river. Several other alternatives suddenly ambushed his mind, racing and funneling through his brain in a chorus of loud noises. Should I burn the body? Fake a suicide? Is it easy to bribe the cops? I should've hired a hit-man! He vacillated between his options, his fidgety mind swinging from one plan to another, abandoning them without taking as little as a second to weigh their worth. ​

​

His fingers curled around the grip of the gun, the weight of the lethal weapon rooting him with a sense of strength and a veil of confidence. I shouldn't shoot him at the door, he recited the only piece of his plan that had a semblance of soundness. His body stirred when the phone vibrated in his pocket, the text instructing him to walk inside the house. Discarding his wavering plans, he decided to push the door and he smiled briefly as he felt it give in and grant him entrance.​

​

Stepping into the house, Choe immediately recognized the moisture in the air. Is he showering with the door open? Why is his place so humid? The darkness consumed him, and the only light in the far back of the room did little to illuminate his ordeal. With a tremor in his step, Choe walked into the gloom oblivious to the man enthroned on the couch. Sandalwood and mint filled his lungs with the first steps into the place, the aromas enhanced by the thick air in the house.​

​

A thunderous bark erupted from the far side of the room. Choe's eyes immediately darted to the source of the noise, his attention stolen by a canine thief. "What the fuck?!" he exclaimed, his voice breaking with shards of dismay. He revealed his pistol with shaky hands and pointed it at the vague silhouette of a dog. Choe could see the beast panting excitedly, restrained from attacking by the invisible bounds of discipline. As he stepped closer he could see the slobber glistening in the dark, ominously warning Choe of the dog's sinister intentions. Sweat coated his forehead, his breath growing heavier with damp terror. ​

​

One more step caused Donnie's figure to materialize in the darkness, his eyes glimmering in the dark like a tiger peering out of its den. "Donnie? What's going on?!" he questioned. His shaking hands steered the barrel towards the seated man in search of an answer. With two targets in front of him, panic snatched the reins from Choe's uncertain fingers. His shivering hands oscillated from one target to the other, his entire plan damned by a single bark. ​

 

[hades.]

A flash of lightning strobed the pitch dark room that flickered in the flash before a grumbling bang blasted outside as the sky cracked. Within those short simmering seconds of light flashing, the room was more noticeable. Everything out of place and disoriented. There was a large white bag, wrapped up like a cheap dollar store birthday bag. It had a children's cartoon colored on it depicting some cupcake colored unicorn parading around in a tiara. The dog was more noticeable too, snarling and showing his sharp teeth. Both of them daring him to make the first move as the room filled still in silence.

"What the fuck is correct Choe." His pale pigmented hues flicked in the light as his eyes crept along the barrel of his gun to stare down the pits of Death. The corner of his lip curled, curious if Choe happened to have tried shooting the weapon before. His eyes gazed across his frame, his barrel moving along his eyes as they trailed along in disgust.

Is this what we consider a fucking man today… as if he could almost be jealous. Donnie worked hard to be the poster child of masculinity. He had fired several guns in his day. His ears conditioned to hear the loud blast. He studied to see if he could catch the bright colors of earplugs peaking out.

So fucking pathetic… He continued to mentally stare him down. His thoughts almost projecting out his eyes play out across his face.

As the gun shifted, Choe's eyes caught its glister under the dark. "Why do you have a gun?!" The Asian questioned, shivering with hypocrisy as his hands pointed the gun at his business partner.

"What the fuck are doing with a gun? You come to fucking take what I have left you fucking vulture. I don't know what the fuck has crawled inside your mind thinking you can come to my home and fuck me, but I am fucking two seconds away from fucking ending you right God damn now." He lifts the gun, aiming it towards his head.

"I came here to talk!" Choe yelled, panicking, his gun tilting from side to side. "I didn't expect you. The dog is freaking me out!"

The foul, ferocious beast had become so honed into Choe it almost knew he was talking about it as it snapped its massive maw, throwing his slobber around wildly. The beast wasn't capable of controlling his instincts of trying to dart towards him before stepping back. And the action that pushed Choe over the edge.

Once again the room flickered in the light. The noise coming out of the barrel fainter than a bolt of lightning that came just moments before. The silhouette of Donnie's gun painted the wall as his arm lifted back up to the center off of Choe's chest. It was a blank, a mere little bottle cap bellowing out a sulphuric smoke that filled and lingered in the aroma of body wash in the room.

Donnie laughed out, blinking at the realization that he and his faithful guardian were still alive and Chole appeared completely dumbfounded. The companion, however, was unamused. It took hold of his wrist. His jaws locked with an immense grasp, its teeth sinking in to force him to drop his little movie prop down onto the carpet. The raging Rottweiler shook and jerked his massive skull at the same time to bring Choe quickly down onto the ground in an attempt to subdue him. The mutant mutt rumbled a growl before mercilessly jerking his head back and forth nearly snapping his hand clean off.

Donnie raised from his love seat. His gun came down to point at the back of his business partner's head. He was sure by now the bitch would be ready to surrender. Choe seemed like a man who would do anything, absolutely anything, to spare the slow and agonizing fucking Hell that awaited him.

"Uncle, bitch. Say fucking Uncle!" Donnie laughed out as he watched him crying and screaming out in pain. He bit down on his lip. He had never had so much control over anyone in his life.

Choe screamed at the top of his lungs. "AHHH oh my- wha- okay! okay! uncle! .. please help me.. uncle Donnie!"

"Do you give up you little pathetic fucking pussy?" Donnie felt his cock growing as Choe called him uncle Donnie. His words swirling down his shaft to weigh down against his balls as they thickened.

The large beast jerked side to side, harder now as Choe's wrist broke apart from their tendons. Quickly his wrist started to turn blue before purple as it ran red rivers of blood down his forearm. The dog was unmerciful, jerking at it like a game of tug of war.

"AHHH!! MY HAND!!! It's BROKEN!! DONNIE WHAT THE FUCK!!" Choe squealed out.

"Did you come to fucking kill me?!" Donnie yelled out over him, spit flying from his mouth as he screamed. He bent over, one hand on his knee as the other pressed the gun to the back of his head.

"NO! OW-I swear! I ahh! wouldn't! It's just a misunderstanding! Don- uncle Donnie I promise!" Choe begged.

"You want it to stop, pussy?" Donnie continued to tease. The gun barrel started to burrow into his hair.

"I'm sorry uncle Donnie please make it stop! I'm gonna lose my hand! DONNIE!!". Choe bursts into tears, his voice shaking with agony, twin streams of despair running down his cheeks.

"What will you do for me, huh, bitch?" He shoved his head further down onto the ground before easing up. He waited for a short pause in Choe's pleads before clicking off the safety to allow the hammer to cock back.

Choe wailed in response. His pleas are broken by sobs and gasps as he melts down in front of his business partner. "I'll give you whatever you want! I promise I'll pay you a lot of money but please let me go I promise it won't happen ever again please please please Uncle Donnie"

"Are you a fucking princess? You want your gift, bitch…?" Donnie asked, whistling out as the dog unlocked his jaws to free Choe from his vice.​

 

[Delicate]

For Choe's fidgety brain, entertaining an idea for more than a second was an impossibility. His mind was flighty, prone to panic, forcing him to leap from one action into the other impulsively without a shroud of thought or planning. Recklessness rendered him susceptible to blunders and blind to his weaknesses. As the variables in his plans changed, his options dwindled, and adrenaline drove his mind to a new apex. The tables turned in mere seconds. Choe went from the assailant wielding a deadly weapon to a pesky intruder with a toy. The weapon that had sagged in his hand became lighter when he realized he'd been deceived, its weight evaporating into the musky air of the room.​

​

His wrist exploded between the beast's jaws. Blood gushed freely out of his twinging fingers as the dog pinned him on the ground. Choe's screams of pain and agony echoed in the room, his plan reduced to begging for mercy, his options vanishing to nothing. Fuck me and my luck! He cursed the arms store that sold him a gun loaded with blanks. The pitiful pistol couldn't even scare the vicious dog away. A puddle of blood formed on the ground beneath him as the dog continued ravenously ravaging his hand, shaking it with jolts of pain that made Choe cry unabashedly. At that close distance the beast looked horrifying. His pointy fangs, sinister eyes, blue collar, and flapping lips all elements of a haunting nightmare that was being etched into his mind. When the Asian looked up to meet Donnie's eyes, he saw a man he'd never seen before.​

​

Donnie was consumed by contempt. There was something sinister about the way he eyed his injured business partner, as if he was nothing of significance. Whatever amicable ties between them were now severed. Hatred engulfed Choe's partner, his eyes whispering tales of the vengeance that he yearned to enact. Downed on the ground, Choe could read Donnie's thoughts. He's enjoying this! The realization terrified Choe. He'd considered that Donnie merely intended to reprimand and punish him. He'd wagered that pleas and promises could grant him safe passage but within Donnie's spiteful eyes he saw the futility of his quest. This was no slap on the wrist. Donnie purposefully ignored all of Choe's pleads and found gratification in inflicting pain upon him. This was darker, and something in Choe told him he might not survive this fateful night and live to see the light of day.​

​

When the beast spat out his hand, Choe felt it pulse with pain. Moving his fingers or flexing his wrist was accompanied by jolts of pain. His wrist was chewed up and broken, his skin torn to shreds. Dark blood had coated his arm all the way to his elbow. The reality of the situation descended on him and almost paralyzed him. For the first time in his spoiled life, Choe was experiencing actual physical pain. He'd lived his whole life in luxury; never facing the consequences of his actions, and always buying forgiveness with a simple apology. Choe had progressed through his life without putting in any honest labor work, his dainty body revealed that, and for the first time ever, the Asian was unable to dismiss his punishment with an apology nor by begging. Donnie was reveling in this moment, his dark eyes brewing joy and pride in a heady elixir that gave him an exhilarating time. ​

​

Donnie presented him with the juvenile looking gift box. What the fuck.. he breathed, heaving himself up to his knees. He held his bloodied, deformed arm close to his chest, regarding it no more than a useless stump that shouldn't be in the way. With the healthy hand he slowly unwrapped the gift, his panicking eyes frequently darting up to meet Donnie's haughty gaze. Panting, Choe lifted the box lid away and pulled out a single item from the box: a pink leather collar. His eyes flickered in dismay under the lightning, his mind processing the revelation with the following whip-crack of thunder. The collar closely resembled the one worn by the Rottweiler differing only in color and the inclusion of a tiny bell that dangled in the front part of the collar.​

​

"You must be kidding.. Donnie.. please, man, we're friends!". Choe pleaded again, shivering, unable to fathom his upcoming humiliation and unwilling to stoop so low as to wear the pink collar. What if he had a fucking leash in his pocket? He shuddered, every atom in his body praying for Donnie to grant him salvation and release him from his misery. "We ain't fucking friends, fucking Chode." Donnie scoffed. He figuratively rolled his eyes as he mocked his name. Choe's words were falling more and more pathetic upon Donnie's ears. What sort of friend was Choe? A fucking leech.​

​

Choe merely sobbed in response, unable to conjure up the words to express his distraught, and deciding that his rejections were all futile. He held up the collar, immediately marring it with his blood, and pressed it against his throat. Lowering his chin down against the bell to hold the collar in place, he reached around the back of his neck with his healthy hand and fumbled around seeking the strap. Slowly, he began the unnerving task of latching the thing around his neck, his body shuddering as if he was tying his own noose. Perhaps in a fit of impatience, Donnie took it upon himself to expedite the process and buckle the collar tightly around his captive's neck.​

​

Ushering him on his feet, Donnie pointed to the stairs descending to the basement and prodded his back with the gun. The real gun, Choe reflected on his embarrassing failure as he walked towards the stairs. Each step birthing a humiliating jingle, the bell under his chin happily dinging dins that made the Asian wince in shame. They descended down the spiraling stairs, Choe's bell filling the silence with playful tintinnabulations while Donnie laughed and shoved, celebrating his victory. They halted their journey in the middle of the basement where Choe decided to beg for mercy once more. "Please Donnie! I beg you man please let me go! I promise you I won't try to get back at you.. I'll pay you whatever you want please let me out! Its all just a big misunderstanding please.. please.." His supplication yielded nothing but Donnie's arrogant and disdainful jeers.​

​

"Oh, Is that so Choe? A misunderstanding? What sort of fucking fool do you mistake me for? Is it some stupid fucking gook thing to be such a fucking faggot ass bitch all the time? Prancing around manipulating, stealing, raping the world like some fucking gold-digging ass whore…" Donnie moved the gun up towards Choe. There was a look in his eyes, an estranged egotistical gleam that sparkled and shined, a strange smile smirked from his power. Donnie didn't know how well Choe could read a man's eyes, but he was surely dead. "Little whore Chloe, will you do anything to stay alive?" His smirk nearly went seductive. His eyes seemingly now engorged in the lust of power and pleasure. His large hand came down to take hold of the bulge centered at his groin. It was clear as day, his package. Gently growing down the leg of his pants as he stroked up and down. On the third stroke, his index and thumb sliding down the zipper.​

​

Choe sobbed at the sight of his business partner revealing his plans for him. Is he actually going to rape me? what the fuck?! The Korean shivered and cried, his chest rising and sinking in frantic tides. Tears freely fell down his cheeks as he gasped and sobbed, watching the outline of Donnie's cock straining against the fabric. The bulge making him swallow nervously as the zipper opened slowly in front of him.​

 

[hades.]

Donnie huffed. "You look pathetic, Choe. Real fucking pathetic." He started to move around the Korean captive, his blue hues flickering up and down to catch every shadow of his body. He didn't want Choe to see the gun be holstered into the back of his jeans to free both his hands.

The weight of the gun opened the mouth of his open zipper, stretching out the hems giving a cool breeze to the inferno burning inside. With each jingle-jangle, the bell tolled a chord down Donnie's nerves as it had nearly twitched and jolted to his jingly jive. It was hard, if not painful, to not cram his meat down his throat right then and there. Fuck his face at gunpoint, blow his two-week-old load and watch the bastard's head explode. But that would be too easy.

Donnie had never been in this situation. His stomach was in knots at how much he enjoyed every erratic eroding movement as he drew a knuckle along Choe's left ass cheek. "Softer than a baby's bottom. You little tub lounger huh? Bubbles and bath salts. Some fucking placenta mask on your face while you tickle your little dick."

Donnie's insults echoed in Choe's head. His shuddering sobs came to a halt. He swallowed his tears and pride, before uttering in cowardice "I'll pay you, Donnie. I promise you.. I'll take you to all the lounges and spas you want.. Just.. Please stop this madness! I beg you, man.. Please.."

But it fell on deaf ears.​

As his knuckle drew up his body, his index opened to tickle long between his crack and tailbone. Slowly he moved his knuckle back down to rub the other cheek. As he reached the bottom his fingers dipped between the crease of his cheek, taking it into his sweaty hot hand to squeeze hard. "Squishy, bouncy, bubbly… you wear those tight spandex pants, Choe-chi? Have you ever flaunted this little ass around town? As like this makes me just want to squeeze it…--"

"No!" Choe gasped when he felt his flesh being fondled. He squirmed and shivered as Donnie groped him, his body too anxious to move away or defy Donnie's advances. Choe's cock resurrected itself to life, the head slowly nodding higher and higher with every grope until it stiffened into a full four and a half inch erection.

But Donnie heard yes.​

Donnie let go of his grip. He stepped back from his taunting behind his target. There was nothing but stagnation for a moment before his large, widespread fingers and palm wailed up to slap against it hard, as hard as he could in hopes to lift him right off his heels. "-- Slap it. "

Donnie moved back around to the other side of Choe as he fished into his left pocket to pull out a dainty looking yet sturdy chain. It curled and whistled like a wind chime as its length fell like a yo-yo. There was a leather strap to hold, too small to go around Donnie's wide wrist, as he lifted the clip to clip it under the little bell. His hand came down as the cold chain that beat and brushed against Choe's skin, he lifted it so the leather strap would coarsely caress his captors cock. He forced the head through the hole, tugging it up and down to try a puppet his cock to life. "Can you even fuck with this thing you have here, Choe? I mean what the fuck is this, huh, an oversized clit?"

Choe's tongue would tie itself in knots at the taunt, unable to produce words to respond to his assailant. His shuddering grew more intense and he looked down, hugging himself as if to keep his body from shaking and convulsing.

Donnie jerked at the chain, forcing Choe to stagger amid his panic attack to cause him to crash against his hard and far bulkier body. Donnie was like a brick wall when he felt Choe slam against him. He then placed his hands to wedge between their chest, his thumbs teasingly tapping and nudging his nipples before shoving him back to nearly stumbling backward. Donnie, still holding the chain, jerked it back to keep him from falling over on his heels. It was fun to taunt him. The way his body brushed and buckled against his behemoth size.

But this wasn't an eight-grade shoving match, as Donnie waited for Choe to catch his balance before his free arm cocked back and jabbed him hard into the face, aiming for the center in hopes to bust his face up in one fell swoop. The first punch was always a bitch of a thing for anyone to endure, and Donnie wanted to woe Choe, rattle his brain inside his head. Take his claim, brand Choe by his blood, inducting him to Donnie's new and profound love of intoxicating tendencies. He was curious as to what damage had been done as he drew his arm back from his face.

And again, he pulled the chain to keep him standing and from falling back.

" Look at you crying like a lost hoe, Choe. You want Uncle Donnie to stop? Make your lil boo-boo better? Then come over here and kiss me before I turn that pale yellow ass into Tteokbokki, bitch." Donnie didn't or wasn't going to ask twice. He blew kisses at him. Puffing out his soft wet lips behind his neatly combed brunette beard and mustache. His knuckles cracked as he squeezed his fingers into his fist. One hand snapped a finger as his blue eyes glared, demanding and dominating, glittering in the amusement of abuse.​

 

[Delicate]

Anxiety threw its cold mantle on Choe's shoulders once again. His body shivered restlessly, and he sweated profusely in front of his captor. Choe's heart was pounding rapidly, each beat sending sharp, tingling pain that made it difficult for him to stand upright or breathe. Tilting his head down, he swallowed nervously, beads of sweat and blood dripping from his smashed, swollen face onto the floor. His bloodshot eyes widened at the sight of the puddle that began to form on the ground. Holy shit he's going to kill me.. The discovery fueled his anxiety even more; he was now panicking. The needle on his fight or flight meter went haywire, ticking right and left in the face of his dwindling options under the threat of the gun. His shivering grew more intense, and the more intense it grew, the louder the bell chimed from under his chin. Under the cold air of the basement, and against the even colder steel, his nipples hardened instantly, his pulsing erection making him feel vulnerable and exposed in front of the man that dwarfed him by a foot.

Choe's inexplicable arousal was unfazed by the anxiety attack that had overtaken him. His dick stood firmly at attention after Donnie had groped his buttocks. The fondling, despite the aggressive nature that carried it, appealed to something that was deeply rooted within Choe's soul. His conscience, his pride, his ego, his brain, they all viewed this abuse as a heinous attack that endangered his very existence and survival, yet his pathetic, squirmy body found solace in the attention it received, and revolted against himself. The dick remained stiff, a pearl of transparent precum crowning the twitching little pink tip, dribbling to the ground only when Donnie had slapped his backside and rattled his entire existence. His cheeks burned through fifty shades of red, the prickling pain sharp at first before slowly evaporating into the room.

He bit on his lips, as his mind wandered in the depths of his memory rummaging for the source of unadulterated hatred that seemed to inspire Donnie's violence and fuel his rage. What have I ever done.. he thought briefly, dismay guiding his steps down memory lane. He thought back of all the times he'd angered his business associate; he recalled the mistakes. Donnie was very expressive of his disapproval and anger. Countless times he'd yell at him to stop wasting the company's funds on gambling, drinking, and whoring. The one time Donnie caught Choe using the company as a front for money laundering had torn Donnie's patience asunder and caused him to roar at him and almost punch his teeth off. All that repressed anger, all that buried, boiling rage was now erupting in Choe's face, and it seemed there was no escaping this seething torment with Donnie wielding the leash like a diabolical puppeteer.

Blood still tainting his lips, and tears welling up on his eyes, he looked up and faced Donnie's taunts with quivering lips. His eyes twitched for a second before he gathered the fragments of his resolve and threw his weight away from his captor, his legs about to flee in haste. The leather strap yanked him back as Donnie reeled him back, the collar straining his neck. He smashed against Donnie's broad chest again, panting in terror and dismay upon realizing that Donnie had him well snared. He began sobbing as he tilted his head forward, stepping on his toes to reach up to Donnie's height. Their lips pressed against each other devoid of emotions other than fear, pride, and lust. Blood and salt fused together when their lips merged, Choe's twitching and shivering, his eyes sparkling with tears like a wounded animal.

"Donnie.." he whimpered when the kiss broke. Biting on his lips, he looked at him with broken eyes, struggling to find the words as he idly peeled off a layer of his lips. "It doesn't have to be like this.. I beg you.." he succumbed to his knees in supplication, imploring Donnie to show a semblance of mercy. ​

 

[hades.]

But no mercy came as Donnie pulled out a half-prepared last meal, holding it at the base with one hand as it flaccidly fell out, slightly stiff, and being heated by the other hand. He had a way of beating it into submission, strengthening his sex by polishing the head into his palm as shaking knees bit the concrete of his cold basement. As it grew sharp and long, so had this smile that stroked his face ear to ear, revealing vampire-Esque a smile as his human canines glistened from a single swaying and light fixture that dangled from the ceiling that made the room feel like an interrogation chamber, a death chamber, without a witness window.

"Sh, shh, shhhhh…" Donnie whispered.

Donnie moved his penis like a paintbrush across the matte drying blood cracking Choe's lips before lifting to bump against his hurt nose as if to say, 'does this feel good, and does this hurt?' But instead of words, a lingering laugh. Blood freshened the bow of his bolstering ship brush as it sunk between the crests of Choe's lips once more, painting along every curve to paint them a fresh crimson coat. It was near sensual how he painted red over the plump pink canvas, hardening once the blood covered them.

He eased back his hips to admire his work, lifting Choe's sad, sulking face up to look into the eyes of devilish, debonair, blue orbs. They scrolled down his victim to see balls and cock bulging from his tender thighs like a turtle trying to roll over off his back, hopeless and helpless, as the crushed Korean. He bit down on his lip, stroking his hammer harder before milking out a slow steady stream of glistening glee that sprinkled and splattered in the air to bead on his victim's bloody body like drooling drips of rain. Showering down on the little mushroom that had grown between two sand-colored pebbles.

His hips moved to gloss over blood lipstick, smearing precum and tears. It was as if he repeated the process as before, teasing him with meat, now desert. But not without the pain that it brings to hunger for it. Except for this time, when his cock brushed over his bloody broken nose, back and forth, berating him without words. Words that Donnie refused to waste on Choe any longer, but so far the Korean had proved a talker.

Donnie tickled down the tips of his left hands' fingers, clutching his throat and predicting him to open up to plead once more, and if so, muffled by meat that world touch the back of his throat, with hands rooting into his bleached hair to help shimmy it four inches go down his throat to stretch the walls of his esophagus while stroking and scratching into his scalp. He wanted to feel that busted nose pressed into the man's hairy, strong stomach. Feel those bloody lips puffing over his balls, as if that big begging mouth of his could handle anymore, as Donnie stuffed his mouth.

"Show Uncle Donnie how sorry you are Chloe." Sadist-sighs shuddering in slimy overzealous, overdominant demands as he fucked the mouth of his crying captor, softly suckling on one big long titty in need of comfort milk. A belly full-a false hope and promise that Donnie would be convinced to spare him, but nothing could spare Choe, even if he could go balls and all, Donnie couldn't dignify dignity through sucking dick. And it showed on the meanstricken face of a madman; you weak, pathetic bitch., while he packed him full-on meatstick.​

 

[Delicate]

Down on his knees, Choe felt weakness strangle him. From down there he could see, up above him, past the growing bulge in his captor's pants, on top of the broad, muscular shoulders, how happy Donnie seemed to be. A sinister grin had stretched across his face giving him the appearance of a demon. Choe felt useless, pathetic, powerless, incapable for mustering even a guise of resistance. His voice faded into a feeble whisper whenever he addressed Donnie and begged for mercy. His knees failed to support his weight let alone attempt an escape so he remained kneeling in utter humility, part astounded by his own weakness but mostly consumed with sheer despair. His body shook continuously, blood and tears filling his face with a wet mess.

He bit on his lips when he saw the cock approach him. Eye to eye with the tip, Choe shuddered, his face recoiling and tensing painfully as it grew closer him. Beneath the warm blood that coated his face, Choe's cheeks flushed a faint pink. Oh my god.. Dismay overtook his senses making him freeze ahead of the desecration that would ensue. The onslaught commenced, but in lieu of punches, Donnie wielded his massive cock as a weapon. The warm, flaccid shaft grazed against his warmer face. He stiffened, and then felt the meat pulse against his skin. The flesh pulsed steadily into an erection honed by Choe's cheeks. With every beat, it grew harder, heavier, warmer. The skin felt smooth as satin against his wet cheeks, and even as the cock hardened, it remained smooth. Donnie continued his masterful strokes, brushing his cock against Choe's recoiling face freely. Donnie stroked more releasing a stream of precum to mar Choe's face. The Korean tensed more, his weight sagging in his seated position. He felt violated, abused, exploited, but deep down he knew he deserved the punishment.

He hated himself. He was reduced to a shadow of a man that was incapable of standing up for himself. He'd been leaping head-first from one failing venture to the other. Armed with family wealth, fame, and connections, he still couldn't amount to anything. His parents were ashamed of him. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd disown me. His friends had all deserted him, evidently, as none of them had called him yet nor noticed he was missing. His business partner was fed up with his constant incompetence, and almost to enact revenge on his ineptness, he was about to rape him in the basement. I should just fucking die. He exhaled, the last air of hope leaving his body as he sat there, a sad husk of a human subjected to Donnie's molestation.

Before Choe could close his mouth, Donnie's hand caught him off guard and closed around his throat. With the easiest squeeze air was pushed out of Choe's throat, and he struggled to breathe. Vacuum built up in his throat and he couldn't inhale nor cough. His face turned a shade bluer, and dark spots swam across his hazed vision. Let me.. breathe.. please.. He opened his mouth and struggled to plead, his vocal cords unable to emit even a hiss. The cock was promptly pushed into his mouth, corking his vacuumed throat and making him gag instantly. His eyes welled and saliva gushed out of his mouth. The shaft slid into his tight sleeve of a throat, a visible bulge appearing. His face was simmering with the heated cock sheathed inside his face. Finally, Donnie's grip came loose, but only when the cock was jammed inside his throat, and Choe's nose was buried in the black thicket of pubic hair that grew around his cock like a lion's mane. Choe breathed deeply, and Donnie's pheromones filled his lungs. The masculine scent made his cock squirt a dribble of precum down on the floor. He continued breathing, panting, while the cock moved effortlessly in and out of his throat. The breathing, from both his nose and mouth, slowly evolved into inexplicable sucking.

I fucking hate you..

Almost rallied by Donnie's promise of mercy, the sobbing Asian started sucking his captor's cock with broken spirits. His throat ached, and his battered lips felt numb, but he closed them around the invading shaft as tightly as he could. The cock dove inside him, inch by inch, and Choe could feel the soft meat melt inside his mouth with the heat. The salty sweat, bitter blood, and sweat precum all fused down his throat in an intoxicating cocktail that drove him into a salacious frenzy. His head bobbed up and down on Donnie's enormous cock, precum dripping down his chin in pearly threads that glistened in the dark basement. Strings of precum and saliva bridged the gap between the tip and his lips, bubbles forming every time Choe dove in for another bout. ​

 

[hades.]

"Atta girl, Chloe. That's a good cocksucker. Play with your pussy, you little whore. I see what a bad little girl you are, Chole. It's warm. Soothing. Big white cock, as you Kore-hoes say. Big Boss Cock." He sneered. Donnie was talking, but who could answer with the large man hair locking and facefucking. His large massive hand was pumping his head like he was getting ready to roll a pair of snake eyes. All revealed in gleaming glowing orbs peering down like an interrogation lamp. A fire burning in them that encouraged his enslaved toy to suck him better than any slut had sucked before. And he had to give it to Choe, at times feeling his nuts rise up against his cock. He nearly could suck a golf ball through a water hose.

Why was it like this? Why did he enjoy it? Donnie didn't know. All he knew is that this was an addiction. He tasted true power and felt like he was diving into hell and was replaced by some devious demon hell-bent on collecting the sins of Choe. To drag him down to that bitter cold hellhole, and he was soon after him. What would his wife say? Why did he want to rape her? Put on a mask and rape her too at gunpoint. How quickly would she suck someone better than her husband? It sent Donnie to nearly pistol whip Choe in the face.

And it felt amazing. What had come over, Donnie? He shuddered in ecstasy, his hips bucked and fucked as hard as he could to smash and pop the bubbles; Choe was blowing. And yet, the torture didn't end, as the gun was retrieved again from behind as the cold hardened steel stroked Choe's temple. The iron sights of his weapon scratched up and down the side of his face to leave blood scratched tears. The idea of blowing his brains off his cock was fucking arousing him; his eyes widened and dilated as he heard the click of a dry hammer. His cock jolted to stab at Choe's uvula before the head poked back down into the swallowing channel of his throat.

"Fuck. " He thrust.

"Fuck." He fucked.

"Fuck." He rutted.

He was mad, crazed in zero compassion for Choe as Donnie forced the gun into his mouth. And still, he fucked his throat. Two weapons fucked, gouging and gagging him. He clicked the trigger again before pulling back the hammer once more. It was like roulette as he counted to pump his mouth. The cold steel stung ice in a sluts mouth. That was until one of the guns had gone off. Donnie had many exciting sexual encounters, mostly in his college days of hoes, but never had he cummed so hard in his life. It nearly made him sick, his stomach turning and tying in knots as his cock swelled more. It was thick, overflowing until he pulled his gun out of his victim's mouth. It was a fucking six-shooter spraying six rounds down his throat, to the back of his throat, in his mouth, twice, before lips, and to punch Choe again in the nose.

He had taken his cock, stroking it slightly in his hand to help aim the last few shots of his quick draw. The gun, too, moved from his captor's mouth. Donnie took a knee, looking at Choe face to face. The cold, wet barrel of the gun pressed under the head of his cock, finding the knot that contained a cluster of nerves. He swirled the edges of the barrel before dragging it up and down his more minuscule member. It was easy to stroke and teased him from the precum leaking from the tip and down to the base. Bringing it up, Donnie put it across Choe's lips, forcing him to taste his humility.

ALT Option

"You fucking make me sick." Donnie sickened his face, but it was hard to decipher who was more mortified by; Him or that piece of shit he used to consider comrades. One finger on the gun clicked off the safety just before pressing the barrel down into his balls. There was that look again, that gleaming in his blue hues that echoed in the sound of death and dismay. And then, without little hesitation— Donnie pulled the fucking trigger.

​

 

[Delicate]

Choe entire body was trembling under the barrage of insults and racial slurs that rained down on him. It started like a ferocious assault, each remark a bullet aimed at his pride, and soon his ego was a bloodied rag with a million holes in it. The trail of insults continued generously, each one numbing the impact of the one landing after it until Choe felt almost deaf. Under the downpour of taunts and slurs, quivering, Choe could only hear the sucking noises his tongue and lips made around Donnie's cock. Everything else was reduced to a faint whisper, as if he was sitting directly under a waterfall for hours, to the point that the crushing noise of the waterfall became an undetectable part of the environment. Donnie's insults, the dog's barking, the thunder whipping the roof, and the ticking of the grandfather's clock in the basement were all damped down to nothing, while the sucking and slurping noises happening inside his mouth rose to the surface and were the only sounds he could hear.

I wish I could crack his skull...

He found a bizarre sort of comfort in those oral noises that filled his head. The way he slurped most of his drooling back into his mouth was accompanied by a noise. The thrashing of the liquids in his mouth with every thrust from Donnie was another noise. His sniffling, his sobbing, Donnie's low moans, Choe's high whimpers, all of those noises composed layers of an entrancing symphony that made Choe serene in this position, even under the unrelenting volley of insults that buried him. I'm not a fucking girl.. he told himself as tears ran down his cheeks. He had been called that before, during his college years, as well as a multitude of homophobic slurs, and it wounded him all the more because he wasn't even gay. Something about his lithe form and underdeveloped voice begged for those jokes to be made by toxic people who thought they were world-class comedians with their original jokes.

... but he has a gun and I don-.. I didn't know how to use it..

The visible bulge on his throat expanded and traveled with each thrust. His body strained around the thick shaft and his throat ached. Every time Donnie pulled out, Choe could feel the room's air hitting the inside of his stretched throat. His tongue laid idly out of his perpetually-open mouth, resting against his chin, slightly pulsing up and down like a tired dog. The mouth was wide open, jaw dropped as low as it could, throat and man offering no resistance to the face being used as a living, breathing flesh-light. Drool coated his chin and, what he couldn't slurp back into his body, was falling to the ground in thick drops.

.. I had a gun.. I had a fucking gun.. why didn't I just use it right..

His lips were pummeled into red paste thrust after thrust, and when the Glock was pushed inside his mouth, he felt the corners of his lips starting to rip and bleed. Warm blood immediately streamed down his chin; twin red rivulets converging at the tip of his chin before dotting tears at the canvas on the ground. Donnie never screamed; his engorged throat was plugged tight with Donnie's cock and his vocal cords had no room to move. He barely managed to utter a hiss while his eyes blinked sending unrestrained tears down his cheeks, as he silently sobbed, whimpered, and sniffed.

.. God I'm so weak..

And that's when he imagined himself. Down on his knees, used and abused and ravaged before, surely, he was to be executed. His humility, his weakness, his inability to make a stand for himself, to fight back, to resist, to revolt, to escape, or even to die trying, all filled his mind. He reflected on his failures: he'd failed to make a good plan, and even his idiotic plan he'd failed to follow correctly. After that he'd failed to fire his gun, he failed to fight the dog or his master, and then he failed to push the chain away from him. He walked down the stairs with the resistance of a drunken bridesmaid, he took in all the racial slurs and insults, and the only act - the only act - which he couldn't fail was to suck Donnie's cock.

I'm so pathetic..

He came. It all seemed so sudden and foreign to him; the notion that his own body would find its weakness so intoxicating and arousing. He silently shot a wisp of translucent semen on the ground, a shimmering string that spread out in the form of an almost-clear stain on the ground. Seconds later, Donnie came. I came before him.. A powerful wave of masculine essence surged through his mouth and down his throat. The smell and taste made his stomach twist and mouth gag, and as the liquid gushed out of his bloodied mouth and the licentious bubbles adorned his crushed lips, Choe swallowed. A heavy gulp of semen went down his tainted throat as his throat gagged and he tried breathing, the reflex making him cough and snort and inhale cum. He swallowed again, bitterly, and pulled back panting in an attempt to catch his breath.

The bang was earth-shattering. Choe felt nothing but he hazily saw his whole life flashing before him, and then after the shot he heard everything. Suddenly, he could hear Donnie again. The dog's aggressive growling, the ticking of the grandfather's clock, and even his own heartbeat were all audible. He looked down and saw his own stain of spunk, and couldn't tell if he'd ejaculated again as the bullet went off or not. I thought he shot my balls off.. he sighed in relieve, a gentle rill of cum running from his nose down on his upper lip. ​

 

[hades.]

Both juxtaposed- One big and one small, one large and one lithe, one man and one ladyboy, the adverse brewing into common grounds of anointing sweats of anguish and arousal of their atrophy. Donnie enjoyed his former partners' peril, decaying within him inside out, changing him, destroying him. He figured others jokingly dreamt of killing, but he never thought this night would have been possible. He wasn't ever into the scary movies until this one had played out as if the world had willed mayhem's manifestation. The sight of blood made him slightly uncomfortable and sick before, now soaking his synapse in the sadistic secretion and sex sewing the air.

As above, so below.

Donnie's blue hues rested upon the culprit's cock, spitting sperm when the bullet bit concrete. It kicked up a cloud of dust between his legs to smog over where his hot-white-flash glittered and glistened before fizzling out like a fucking firework in the dark ambiance of a low-lit lampshade and the light-strobe of a swaying interrogation lamp. The smell of Hell filled the room that perfumed pungent notes of sawdust and nitroglycerine. He inhaled the tip of the barrel, closed his eyes in ecstasy as his rough tongue licked the cold, cruel steel. His mouth, salivating in sex, polished onto the gun. The tip of the barrel dipped behind his own balls, pushing his testicles out until they squeeze together. The wet bubbles of bliss nearly forcing his hard cock to stick to his tight hairy skin, forced to rise with his gun lifting his large balls, and growling in a self-satisfied massage. His other hand took his base, pushing against his swelled nuts, before running under the shaft to squeeze out the drool of his excess. As it seeped, the gun moved to his side before air-drying dick like a dog, shaking off slow-sperm that splattered Choe's skin once again—softening like a disease on his pretty petrified pelt.

Then came a grueling cruel cackle that would groom and overshadow the soul of any man. It bellowed to beat the soul in mockery, dooming dissonance.

"Don't blow your nut, boy." He said with a sny smile.

"Now, lay back, pussy." The gun came up, pointed aimlessly, before winking. Smoke flew out from the barrel as the projectile punctured into Choe's chest. The way the blood poured out from the hole, the projectile force ordered the Korean to fall backward onto the floor. Donnie stepped into the shadows, only to return a moment later without the gun in his hand. Slowly the light crawled up his naked muscular build as he stepped closer, kneeling between his Choe's knees. A sickness in his eyes, drunk in destroying everything he had left. A hand ran up Choe's soft stomach, a finger tapping and patting on the blood to fingerpaint what wasn't flowing red. When his hand continued up, it felt the warmth of life fuming out. The tip of his index moved around the wound, forcing more flow to squirt out.

Donnie eased his hips forward, his long eight-inch cock running along Choe's thigh. Another arm went to take his hip, lifting the Koreon's bubbly butt from the cold, unforgiving ground. The head parted flushed cheeks as the hand holding his hips slipped back to squeeze into his ass. Blood smearing hand moved back down, rubbing the blood into Choe's chest while Donnie sawed his weapon against his victim. Nails dug into his skin, parting him open, before pressing the head up against his hole. Thumb slipped up to try and stretch his asshole, refusing to take him, but against anything he might think, Donnie was determined to make it fit. Centimeters crept in; he adjusted muscles in his stomach to tighten his cock as it slowly started to enter, only to be caught by the edge of Donnie's thick drooling head.

That bloody hand slipped up Choe's torso, pressing down on his chest to pin his shoulders down into the ground. The hand digging into his ass lost traction, peeling back soft burning scratch until he was holding under his shaved dainty thigh in contrast. He could feel his heartbeat, the fear fluttering, sending Donnie's cock to stretch out as the head popped inside. Hips eased forward, hand pulling back, and before long, half of his cock packed inside. Teeth grinding, groans stifled.

It was a shame Choe had to die; He was, after all, one fine piece of Korean ass. Donnie would give him that. His wife rarely satisfied his needs. In it always and only for herself, like most women he'd encountered, came same similarities as Choe. She was always lying, manipulating, the usual string-pulling that he had grown to loathe over time. She tried, in a way, to please him at times, but it always ended in her selfishness or self-satisfaction and guaranteed half-assed. Just like Choe. He hated his wife, he hated Choe, and though Donnie had been a faithful man his entire life, he thanked the dying man by shoving the rest inside.

The feeling of Choe squeeze around him, tighter than his wife, milked the murderer of his slimy, slippery seed that lubed inside. And just as the head of his cock pressed against his enemies prostrate, the finger that made its way tickling, teasing, and torturing that wound with delicate, sensitive strokes, dipped inside to press against the lead buried inside his chest. The tip of his finger rolled it around inside, spinning it like a Wartenberg wheel. Each spin had come to the press and decompressed strains of sodomy. The finger unplugged the hole, his hips nearly letting go, before driving inside him to press him forward along the ground.

"You fucking like that, you yellow faggot-fuck?" His hate lifted his cock, pressing against his prostate, pinching it inside with nowhere else to go as Donnie started to fuck him mercilessly. That bloody hand grabbed hold of Choe's chain, pulling his head forward while Donnie lifted to his knees. The chain slipped, forcing Choe's head to rebound upon the ground. Donnie saw that crippled curled wrist, placing his foot down on it, pressing into the shredded skin and broken bone. He lifted and pulled the chain, bringing his head up only to drop it back down into the concrete. Each thump croaking over the white man's heavy heaving. His balls were slapping up against his cheeks, the head of his cock was pushing up into Choe's groin as blue hue's watched the man suckle on that drooled, slippery soaked cock. The crunching of bones curdled even in Donnie's stomach as bile drew slowly up his throat in disgust with his self-destruction. He could feel bones and fragments like rocks rolling around. And still, he fucked. Continuing to fuck Choe lifelessly. Harder, faster, and more aggressive than that little pussy of a man could have ever dreamt. Enough to make his wife wet, even in the wake of the carnage, to see the alpha male she married long ago.

"Play with that little dick, boy. Stroke it until it falls off for Uncle Donnie." Came the stiff jab into his face to assure he obliged his orders. He had hate in his eyes no man had seen before, enamored abhorrence and abolishment, each thrust like hammering, before saw-horsing him with his hips.

"Don't you fucking die on me, Choe. I want you to feel me explode inside you, you pathetic, worthless, piece of shit fucking whore!" Screaming now, spit-spewing hate while he laughed as Choe continued to be Choe. Each word came to a cruel slap across the face, denying the dignity of his bone-crushing punches, replaced by the loud splash of his large whore-slapping pimp hand. Hips rutted and rocked, still trying to hip-saw through him. Donnie's dick dull from the cum that coated and filled Choe's cranium earlier started to regain sensation. ​

 

[Delicate]

Choe had expected it. He had told himself, time and time again throughout this torturous night, that Donnie was going to kill him. He whispered it to himself with every breath. It lingered in the back of his head, haunting his thoughts, shaking his voice, clouding his judgement, and weakening his actions. It filled him with insurmountable anxiety and the cowardice that reduced him to shreds of a man down on his knees servicing Donnie. Yet regardless of how many times he'd warned himself, the bullet still came as a shattering surprise that shook his very core. He heard its deafening bang before his brain registered it. Next came the intense burn on the surface with its acidic sting. The bullet punctured one of his lungs. Shards of prickling pain, like a million shrapnel exploding all at once, poked and stabbed at the inside of his chest. Choe screamed in pain but only managed a ghastly, airless hiss.

With a hole in his chest, the room suddenly grew colder. Choe felt the air creeping into his body to fill him with the frosty presence of death. "Donnie.." he hissed in utter disbelief. Without air in one of his lungs, Choe was panting uncontrollably, inhaling rapidly in an attempt to breathe. Alas, it was as if he was blowing air into ashes hoping to start a fire. His body withered without oxygen, and multitudes of attempts at half-breathing only made his body more exhausted. As if it was his body's way of fending off the cold, his warm blood gushed out of his chest and coated him in an instant. He spasmed uncontrollably as the red fountain squirted out of him with each painful breath of cold air. The corners of his vision hazed and faded gradually until he could barely see the predator molesting him.

The lower half of his body became cold and paralyzed, almost like something that was attached to his body yet wasn't part of him. He lost the ability to move any muscle below his abdomen. The feeling of the cold floor against his flesh faded into an all encompassing chill that made him feel as if he was laying in a coffin made of ice. He sensed Donnie fondling his buttocks and pressing his enormous cock against his asshole. A rosy blush adorned his blue face as he felt the cock press inside his dying body. The tip of the cock jabbed against his prostate. Every stab tingled with pleasure that gradually amassed inside Choe. Every thrust pumped a centralized sort of ecstasy into him. He felt his balls getting lighter, his body floating on a cloud of bliss as his flesh became softer and tighter around the shaft. His soft, cum-coated dick nodded up and down with every plunge Donnie took into his bluing body.

He couldn't utter a word for a longest time. His arms were numb and as blue as the sky. With neither a thought in mind or air in throat, he remained as silent as a corpse while Donnie bucked into him. Then after a century of meek silence, Choe finally mustered a singular word: "Why?" The word left his shivering lips before he erupted coughing. Cough after cough, Choe lost whatever air he had in his chest and couldn't breathe. His face turned blue, the veins on his neck and forehead surfacing, his eyes welling with tears. He gasped with widened eyes and more blood spurted out of his body, before his heart finally succumbed, and death claimed him just as Donnie's cum leaked out of his hole. ​

[The End]​