Post by Lau-Sama on Dec 10, 2010 0:33:52 GMT -5
Was it always nights like this he remembered her?
Her eyes blue as the ocean, skin as pale and smooth as moonlight, hair as golden as sun. His dear, sweet, Lenore. Blessed be his life with such an angel. Where he may find comfort in her voice, warmth in her arms, and passion through the stormy nights. Her body always kept him warm, nights like this. He had very little pleasant memories, but Lenore was defiantly one of the best. That was until she betray him. His sweet angel had abandon him quite easily for another. It had been his superior at the time, even.
“Filthy skank,” the words left Victor’s mouth in an acidic tone. Smoke left his lips as he slowly exhaled, then flicking his cigarette away. He was already wet from standing out in the rain, ‘reminiscing’, he figured he better go inside before he got sick. He needed to start preparing dinner for Count Hassan. It was hard to believe his boss now, was nothing more then a fourteen year old Arab kid. A real brat, with an even worse personal butler.
His name was Sullivan Wolf. Probably the snarkiest bastard on the face of the earth. Once Master Azoth's back was turned. The heat was on, he and that stupid butler went at it like cats and dogs. There was just something not right about him, that Sullivan. Victor had no idea what the young master saw in him. But he stuck to his duties, as usual.
"Twice baked potato casserole..." He read aloud, tonight's dinner. With a side of steamed vegetables. It wasn't a fancy cuisine like you'd expect a noble to eat. But Azoth always preferred food that simply tasted good, and filled him too. Victor slightly was reminded of the gruel he'd have to eat many nights in the army, when food was scarce. Food that filled you was all he really cared about. But he wasn't one of those people who went on and on about his "days in the army", so to speak. And so, he went on preparing dinner. It was just until he put the contents of the casserole into the oven that he felt a tug at the back of his shirt. Upon turning around Victor saw that it was the count himself. Azoth Hassan. Who was at least a full foot shorter then himself.
"What is it?" Came the usual, exhausted voice of his in question. His gold eyes staring down at the tanned skin boy, with such raven colored hair, accompanied with a pair of bright blue eyes. Victor never quite put his finger on it, but there was something about this child that he absolutely hated. Just looking at him sparked a ancient feeling hate within his heart. "When is dinner going to be finished?" The boy asked, snapping Victor from his thoughts. "I just put it in the oven, it'll be another forty minutes, come back then." He replied, in a rather bitter tone. Considering Azoth's age AND he was Victor's boss. His bitter reply of course earned him a glare. Those bright blue eyes, as large and childish as they may be. There was always something intimidating about them. Victor didn't back down from the stare off however. Azoth eventually clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Fine."
With that, he turned around and headed back upstairs.
Victor watched as Azoth left, a tilt of his head, examining that frail body. How he had to use a cane just to climb the stairs. His leg was slightly curved in the calf, Sullivan had told him that the master had broken his leg once. It apparently wasn’t cared for until after permanent damage was done to the muscle tissue. Victor knew all about injuries, but that’s a story for another time. He couldn’t help but to think how pathetic his ‘master’ looked, struggling to go up the stairs. And how easy it would be to over power that brat. To break him, watch those hateful blue eyes well up and spill with tears. Maybe that was too sadistic, but the only reason he worked here was because he was sick of being a prison security guard. Here he got a free place to sleep, and got free meals as long as he cooked everything the count wanted. That was fine, except he was cooking probably five different cakes every day. It was like baby sitting. To say the least.
Regardless of his thoughts, Victor headed off to his own room. A long exhausted sigh escaped him, the night was so cold he swore he could see his breath, slowly rising in a fog from his lips. It was nights like these he missed her warmth. Becoming tangled in her body. Victor’s form fell hard against his bed. Fingers digging their way into his trousers. “Lenore…” He whispered softly, eyes closed as he wrapped his fingers around himself. Stroking the best he could with his pants still up to his waist. It was always nights like these, he was reminded of those passion filled nights. Where he once believed he was happy. It was also nights like these, he remembered the day he slit the throat of his superior. And next, Lenore’s beautiful little neck. The things he said to her before splaying her red blood about the room, in almost an artistic manor. How he covered his tracks and ran away. His dear, sweet Lenore.
By now, he had undone his trousers and left them around his thighs. His strained, slick member exposed to the cold air. But warmed by the palm of his hand, as he quickly stroked himself. In such lewd thoughts, face pressed against the bed while he panted her name. How he simply wish to get lost in those blue eyes once more. Vast and blue as the deep sea. Her name spilled from his mouth as he found release. “Le..n..o..r..e…!” and he lay, panting. Lost in a haze, groggy from his orgasm, slowly sinking down from his high. Not doing much to wipe up the white fluid that now stained his black clothing. Until he heard a slight tapping at the door, he had two seconds to quickly fix up his pants and use his shirt to wipe up the cum he so carelessly spilled all over. So sitting there, shirtless, he turned to see, of course. Mr.Wolf slide in.
“Good evening,” The silver haired man greeted as usual. But the look on his face was far from being friendly. “You’ve neglected you duties once again, Mr.Wright, tonight’s dinner had nearly burned. Had it not been for me, it would have.” The butler waltzed right in, as if he owned the place. “Should I be telling the young master about your slacking, or your little ‘breaks’, for lack of a better word…” Sullivan leaned over slightly, by Victor’s shoulder. Earning nothing but a cold glare. “The young master doesn’t like slackers, you know this already though.” He said, tapping a finger to Victor’s cheek.
“Yeah--I know that….” Victor’s bitter reply. Seeing the butler’s amused grin through the corner of his eye as he lifted from the bed, putting on a new shirt. “It wont happen again, so you don’t need to tell him anything.” The last thing he needed was to lose his job. Another thing he hated, he couldn’t do anything without upsetting that little brat that he called boss. “I’ll clean up, then--” Victor was cut off before he could finish.
“Already taken care of, Mr.Wright, while you were in here pleasuring yourself I’ve attended all the remaining house chores,” the butler’s fingers pulled at the tie that held up Victor’s hair. Sending the raven black locks to splay over his shoulders. Like silk, Victor pushed it back with his long fingers. Slightly distraught that Sullivan had the nerve to touch him. And even more so when he was shoved over onto the bed once more. ““The young master is getting ready for bed, so he shan’t be calling for you any longer. So, I’m asking you to stay here in your room for the rest of the night. A mind as distracted as yours can cause damage, you understand, yes?” Sullivan grinned nearly ear to ear, a chuckle escaped him. Victor scoffed loudly, turning his head the other way to avoid looking at the butler’s stupid face. Had Sullivan been out there listening to him? How could he possibly know when Victor had kept his voice as quiet as possible.
“………..” Obviously, Victor gave no reply. And in return, Sullivan gave a smile, bowing before exiting the room. Whispering a rather sweet sounding ‘good night’ before closing the door. How annoying..
The night carried on as it usually did, the storm rolled on. The night’s events rattled around in his mind over and over. He couldn’t sleep. Disregarding Sullivan’s words from earlier, Victor got up from bed and headed outside. Withdrawing a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket, and lighting one up. Staring out into the dark rainy sky, and listening to the low rumble of thunder. He knew, Azoth must be awake. He hated loud noises… But he wondered why he even thought of that? …No matter. The insomnia was starting to make him feel sick. He decided to put out his cig and head upstairs after standing out under the back door’s canopy for a good ten to twenty minutes. His own room was downstairs, but he figured since everyone was apparently asleep he’d be able to use the upstairs bathroom. He noticed how warm it was upstairs compared to downstairs as he was climbing up the steps, he felt a slight unfairness here. One could say he was ‘just jealous.’ But it was just the very thought that he was treated as lower class his entire life. The equivalent of dirt, even. He was used for his ability, and never given a simple thank you. It pissed him off, to be quite frank.
A sigh escaped him as he finally reached the bathroom, simply taking a piss. That was until a loud rumble of thunder pretty much shook the mansion, Victor jumped, cursing as he got piss on his pants. Also hearing a familiar shouting of the count. While wiping up his pants, Victor headed to the master bed room. “Boss?” He nudged the door open with his foot. The first thing he saw through the dark were a pair of glowing blue eyes. Those that belonged to Count Hassan...
“Did the thunder scare you, boss?” Victor asked, watching the count. Who sat up, clinging onto his blankets, trembling in fear. The count’s reply came, “It hadn’t scared me,” his voice quiet like a mouse. Was there another that was afraid of storms as well? Who had it been? Victor wondered this as he headed to the side of Azoth’s bed, also wondering, where Sullivan could be. Perhaps Azoth reminded Victor of himself as a child, or perhaps, something else. But he felt compelled to sit next to him, and with little tenderness, pull him closer. He could have said something then, but he didn’t. Simply holding onto his boss, crushing the boy’s head into his chest.
“--Victor---” Azoth’s voice cut through, he had quickly stopped shivering since Victor held onto him. “Wh..what are you doing? You…” upon looking down, Victor saw the frustrated expression of his master. His thin scarred fingers, clinging to his clothes. He felt Azoth squirm, pushing him away. Somehow, that pissed him off… He was trying to comfort this brat, and he wasn’t accepting it. The rest of the words Azoth spoke were unheard to Victor.
Within the next second, Victor lost all sight of what he was doing. He held his boss, Count Hassan, against the bed by his throat. Squeezing. Crushing his wind pipe. "What's wrong with you?" Victor said, hate and rage more then relevant in his voice. "Why are you pushing me away?" He growled further, his grip tightening on the boy's throat. Watching his forehead and eyelids go red from the pressure of blood. Watching how he squirmed and sputtered, gasping for air like a fish. Azoth couldn't even answer. So Victor would do all the talking.
"You always treat me like crap. You and Wolf, both of you. I work hard, I cook every single god damn dish you ask for. I take out every target you assign. Where is my GOD DAMN respect?!" He shouted, shaking the suffocating boy by the throat. Noticing how Azoth's blue eyes glowed, how red his face was getting, how drool was spilling from his gaping mouth. Slowly, Victor eased his grip, but still held Azoth in place.
Azoth took this opportunity to gasp for air, believing he would be strangled again he wheezed even harder. Coughing, sputtering, drool trailed down his neck and wet Victor's hands. It was now he realized that he was strangling a child. Normally, Victor never felt bad about hurting others. But looking down at his boss like this, while straddling his small body. How he panted heavily, face flushed, looking groggy and worn out. He couldn't help but to feel really bad. But even worse when he felt aroused as well. Victor opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. The only sound that filled the room were Azoth's terrified gasps and wheezes. At that moment, Victor's mind went blank. Staring into nothing, until he felt the boy's hands wrapping around his wrists.
In a daze. Victor was reminded of her. The offending hands, became embracing arms. Wrapped all about the younger boy's body. His mouth met that throat, as if he were apologizing he kissed again and again, up to Azoth's jaw line, and to his ear, where his tongue flicked at the industrial piercing he had. Those eyes, soft and blue like the summer's ocean. Warm and inviting. Calling him to dive in. Despite the shudder and whimpers he received, Victor continued with ease. His hands sliding over that round ass, squeezing slightly. "Ah.. Why does a boy have a figure like this?" He wondered out loud and chuckled, purposely wanting to tease. Azoth had this coming, that's for sure. The way he treated people.
Azoth had tried to pull at Victor's hair. But was easily over powered, Victor grabbed both of the count's hands and pinned them down at his sides.
"Victor s-stop---!! A-ah--!"
Victor heard Azoth complaining while he was sliding up the boy's black sweater from his stomach. Examining a huge scar that ran down the very middle from his chest. "What is this?" He asked, dragging his fingernail along the scar, all the way up to the boy's sternum. "Did you have major surgery here?" Victor moved his face against Azoth's warm stomach, he could still hear him wheezing and coughing occasionally. Weakly struggling against his grip. None of this bothered him. He went on tasting the other's tanned skin, he must have had a bath not too long ago right? He didn't taste much like anything.
"Stop that!! V-Victor! Gg---!!"
That kid, always bossing him around. Victor slowly moved upward, his knee digging between Azoth's legs. "Don't get too excited," He said with a small laugh. Letting go of one of Azoth's hands to brush his fingers slowly through the boy's hair. "Am I being too rough?" He asked, arching a brow.
"Get off of me! Get off! GET OFF! G--"
He was silenced by Victor shoving two of his fingers into his mouth. Of course the kid was biting, but he was getting exhausted. Victor knew this, the bites were weak and lazy. It tickled actually. Victor simply laughed, grinding his knee against Azoth's groin.
"G-ghh.. an...ah--"
Azoth sounded both distressed and pleasured. However the pleasure was quite forced. The sounds of the count's groans and whimpers brought a smirk to Victor's face. "Who knew you could be so cute?.." He said, more to himself then to his boss. He doubted Azoth could hear him any way. Victor moved both hands to Azoth's head, threading his fingers through his luxurious raven hair. His lips pressing to the edge of Azoth's, rather wet mouth. He was coughing a lot after all, wasn't he? While Victor's hands were here instead of holding onto Azoth's arms, Azoth took his freedom to shove his small hands against Victor's shoulders. This had little to no effect, considering how exhausted he was.
Victor stroked his thumb over Azoth's cheek. "Now now..." He said with a sigh, frowning. "I'm trying to apologize for choking you like that. I'll make you feel good..." He said, sliding one hand down Azoth's torso, feeling at one of his nipples. Tracing one finger around it slowly, occasionally giving it a little flick. Watching the boy squirm underneath him was pleasing, but he wasn't satisfied. Just as Victor's fingers met the waistline of Azoth's pants, he felt something hot against his knee. Surprised, Victor looked down, seeing a growing wet patch on Azoth's pants.
"Eh?!" He shouted in surprise, moving away. Yes, the count Azoth Hassan. Boy of fourteen years old. Had wet himself.
Victor quickly saw himself out, but his face soon collided into Sullivan's. "Ah!" He cried out, holding his head. Looking up to see the silver haired butler, holding a candle lit light. It glowed a burning amber, matching that of the butler's eyes. Those that glared down at him.
"Mr.Wright, what were you doing in the Count's room?" He asked, though his voice was calm as it always was. There was the sound of danger behind it. Victor learned to detect this.
"I went to check up on him, I heard a shout during the thunder so I went to see if he was okay..." Victor paused, not breaking eye contact with Sullivan, as intense his glare was. "He wet the bed.. I ain't cleanin' it up." He finished, walking passed Sullivan quickly. Heading back to the cold first floor. Back to his room. Back to safety.
Her eyes blue as the ocean, skin as pale and smooth as moonlight, hair as golden as sun. His dear, sweet, Lenore. Blessed be his life with such an angel. Where he may find comfort in her voice, warmth in her arms, and passion through the stormy nights. Her body always kept him warm, nights like this. He had very little pleasant memories, but Lenore was defiantly one of the best. That was until she betray him. His sweet angel had abandon him quite easily for another. It had been his superior at the time, even.
“Filthy skank,” the words left Victor’s mouth in an acidic tone. Smoke left his lips as he slowly exhaled, then flicking his cigarette away. He was already wet from standing out in the rain, ‘reminiscing’, he figured he better go inside before he got sick. He needed to start preparing dinner for Count Hassan. It was hard to believe his boss now, was nothing more then a fourteen year old Arab kid. A real brat, with an even worse personal butler.
His name was Sullivan Wolf. Probably the snarkiest bastard on the face of the earth. Once Master Azoth's back was turned. The heat was on, he and that stupid butler went at it like cats and dogs. There was just something not right about him, that Sullivan. Victor had no idea what the young master saw in him. But he stuck to his duties, as usual.
"Twice baked potato casserole..." He read aloud, tonight's dinner. With a side of steamed vegetables. It wasn't a fancy cuisine like you'd expect a noble to eat. But Azoth always preferred food that simply tasted good, and filled him too. Victor slightly was reminded of the gruel he'd have to eat many nights in the army, when food was scarce. Food that filled you was all he really cared about. But he wasn't one of those people who went on and on about his "days in the army", so to speak. And so, he went on preparing dinner. It was just until he put the contents of the casserole into the oven that he felt a tug at the back of his shirt. Upon turning around Victor saw that it was the count himself. Azoth Hassan. Who was at least a full foot shorter then himself.
"What is it?" Came the usual, exhausted voice of his in question. His gold eyes staring down at the tanned skin boy, with such raven colored hair, accompanied with a pair of bright blue eyes. Victor never quite put his finger on it, but there was something about this child that he absolutely hated. Just looking at him sparked a ancient feeling hate within his heart. "When is dinner going to be finished?" The boy asked, snapping Victor from his thoughts. "I just put it in the oven, it'll be another forty minutes, come back then." He replied, in a rather bitter tone. Considering Azoth's age AND he was Victor's boss. His bitter reply of course earned him a glare. Those bright blue eyes, as large and childish as they may be. There was always something intimidating about them. Victor didn't back down from the stare off however. Azoth eventually clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Fine."
With that, he turned around and headed back upstairs.
Victor watched as Azoth left, a tilt of his head, examining that frail body. How he had to use a cane just to climb the stairs. His leg was slightly curved in the calf, Sullivan had told him that the master had broken his leg once. It apparently wasn’t cared for until after permanent damage was done to the muscle tissue. Victor knew all about injuries, but that’s a story for another time. He couldn’t help but to think how pathetic his ‘master’ looked, struggling to go up the stairs. And how easy it would be to over power that brat. To break him, watch those hateful blue eyes well up and spill with tears. Maybe that was too sadistic, but the only reason he worked here was because he was sick of being a prison security guard. Here he got a free place to sleep, and got free meals as long as he cooked everything the count wanted. That was fine, except he was cooking probably five different cakes every day. It was like baby sitting. To say the least.
Regardless of his thoughts, Victor headed off to his own room. A long exhausted sigh escaped him, the night was so cold he swore he could see his breath, slowly rising in a fog from his lips. It was nights like these he missed her warmth. Becoming tangled in her body. Victor’s form fell hard against his bed. Fingers digging their way into his trousers. “Lenore…” He whispered softly, eyes closed as he wrapped his fingers around himself. Stroking the best he could with his pants still up to his waist. It was always nights like these, he was reminded of those passion filled nights. Where he once believed he was happy. It was also nights like these, he remembered the day he slit the throat of his superior. And next, Lenore’s beautiful little neck. The things he said to her before splaying her red blood about the room, in almost an artistic manor. How he covered his tracks and ran away. His dear, sweet Lenore.
By now, he had undone his trousers and left them around his thighs. His strained, slick member exposed to the cold air. But warmed by the palm of his hand, as he quickly stroked himself. In such lewd thoughts, face pressed against the bed while he panted her name. How he simply wish to get lost in those blue eyes once more. Vast and blue as the deep sea. Her name spilled from his mouth as he found release. “Le..n..o..r..e…!” and he lay, panting. Lost in a haze, groggy from his orgasm, slowly sinking down from his high. Not doing much to wipe up the white fluid that now stained his black clothing. Until he heard a slight tapping at the door, he had two seconds to quickly fix up his pants and use his shirt to wipe up the cum he so carelessly spilled all over. So sitting there, shirtless, he turned to see, of course. Mr.Wolf slide in.
“Good evening,” The silver haired man greeted as usual. But the look on his face was far from being friendly. “You’ve neglected you duties once again, Mr.Wright, tonight’s dinner had nearly burned. Had it not been for me, it would have.” The butler waltzed right in, as if he owned the place. “Should I be telling the young master about your slacking, or your little ‘breaks’, for lack of a better word…” Sullivan leaned over slightly, by Victor’s shoulder. Earning nothing but a cold glare. “The young master doesn’t like slackers, you know this already though.” He said, tapping a finger to Victor’s cheek.
“Yeah--I know that….” Victor’s bitter reply. Seeing the butler’s amused grin through the corner of his eye as he lifted from the bed, putting on a new shirt. “It wont happen again, so you don’t need to tell him anything.” The last thing he needed was to lose his job. Another thing he hated, he couldn’t do anything without upsetting that little brat that he called boss. “I’ll clean up, then--” Victor was cut off before he could finish.
“Already taken care of, Mr.Wright, while you were in here pleasuring yourself I’ve attended all the remaining house chores,” the butler’s fingers pulled at the tie that held up Victor’s hair. Sending the raven black locks to splay over his shoulders. Like silk, Victor pushed it back with his long fingers. Slightly distraught that Sullivan had the nerve to touch him. And even more so when he was shoved over onto the bed once more. ““The young master is getting ready for bed, so he shan’t be calling for you any longer. So, I’m asking you to stay here in your room for the rest of the night. A mind as distracted as yours can cause damage, you understand, yes?” Sullivan grinned nearly ear to ear, a chuckle escaped him. Victor scoffed loudly, turning his head the other way to avoid looking at the butler’s stupid face. Had Sullivan been out there listening to him? How could he possibly know when Victor had kept his voice as quiet as possible.
“………..” Obviously, Victor gave no reply. And in return, Sullivan gave a smile, bowing before exiting the room. Whispering a rather sweet sounding ‘good night’ before closing the door. How annoying..
The night carried on as it usually did, the storm rolled on. The night’s events rattled around in his mind over and over. He couldn’t sleep. Disregarding Sullivan’s words from earlier, Victor got up from bed and headed outside. Withdrawing a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket, and lighting one up. Staring out into the dark rainy sky, and listening to the low rumble of thunder. He knew, Azoth must be awake. He hated loud noises… But he wondered why he even thought of that? …No matter. The insomnia was starting to make him feel sick. He decided to put out his cig and head upstairs after standing out under the back door’s canopy for a good ten to twenty minutes. His own room was downstairs, but he figured since everyone was apparently asleep he’d be able to use the upstairs bathroom. He noticed how warm it was upstairs compared to downstairs as he was climbing up the steps, he felt a slight unfairness here. One could say he was ‘just jealous.’ But it was just the very thought that he was treated as lower class his entire life. The equivalent of dirt, even. He was used for his ability, and never given a simple thank you. It pissed him off, to be quite frank.
A sigh escaped him as he finally reached the bathroom, simply taking a piss. That was until a loud rumble of thunder pretty much shook the mansion, Victor jumped, cursing as he got piss on his pants. Also hearing a familiar shouting of the count. While wiping up his pants, Victor headed to the master bed room. “Boss?” He nudged the door open with his foot. The first thing he saw through the dark were a pair of glowing blue eyes. Those that belonged to Count Hassan...
“Did the thunder scare you, boss?” Victor asked, watching the count. Who sat up, clinging onto his blankets, trembling in fear. The count’s reply came, “It hadn’t scared me,” his voice quiet like a mouse. Was there another that was afraid of storms as well? Who had it been? Victor wondered this as he headed to the side of Azoth’s bed, also wondering, where Sullivan could be. Perhaps Azoth reminded Victor of himself as a child, or perhaps, something else. But he felt compelled to sit next to him, and with little tenderness, pull him closer. He could have said something then, but he didn’t. Simply holding onto his boss, crushing the boy’s head into his chest.
“--Victor---” Azoth’s voice cut through, he had quickly stopped shivering since Victor held onto him. “Wh..what are you doing? You…” upon looking down, Victor saw the frustrated expression of his master. His thin scarred fingers, clinging to his clothes. He felt Azoth squirm, pushing him away. Somehow, that pissed him off… He was trying to comfort this brat, and he wasn’t accepting it. The rest of the words Azoth spoke were unheard to Victor.
Within the next second, Victor lost all sight of what he was doing. He held his boss, Count Hassan, against the bed by his throat. Squeezing. Crushing his wind pipe. "What's wrong with you?" Victor said, hate and rage more then relevant in his voice. "Why are you pushing me away?" He growled further, his grip tightening on the boy's throat. Watching his forehead and eyelids go red from the pressure of blood. Watching how he squirmed and sputtered, gasping for air like a fish. Azoth couldn't even answer. So Victor would do all the talking.
"You always treat me like crap. You and Wolf, both of you. I work hard, I cook every single god damn dish you ask for. I take out every target you assign. Where is my GOD DAMN respect?!" He shouted, shaking the suffocating boy by the throat. Noticing how Azoth's blue eyes glowed, how red his face was getting, how drool was spilling from his gaping mouth. Slowly, Victor eased his grip, but still held Azoth in place.
Azoth took this opportunity to gasp for air, believing he would be strangled again he wheezed even harder. Coughing, sputtering, drool trailed down his neck and wet Victor's hands. It was now he realized that he was strangling a child. Normally, Victor never felt bad about hurting others. But looking down at his boss like this, while straddling his small body. How he panted heavily, face flushed, looking groggy and worn out. He couldn't help but to feel really bad. But even worse when he felt aroused as well. Victor opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. The only sound that filled the room were Azoth's terrified gasps and wheezes. At that moment, Victor's mind went blank. Staring into nothing, until he felt the boy's hands wrapping around his wrists.
In a daze. Victor was reminded of her. The offending hands, became embracing arms. Wrapped all about the younger boy's body. His mouth met that throat, as if he were apologizing he kissed again and again, up to Azoth's jaw line, and to his ear, where his tongue flicked at the industrial piercing he had. Those eyes, soft and blue like the summer's ocean. Warm and inviting. Calling him to dive in. Despite the shudder and whimpers he received, Victor continued with ease. His hands sliding over that round ass, squeezing slightly. "Ah.. Why does a boy have a figure like this?" He wondered out loud and chuckled, purposely wanting to tease. Azoth had this coming, that's for sure. The way he treated people.
Azoth had tried to pull at Victor's hair. But was easily over powered, Victor grabbed both of the count's hands and pinned them down at his sides.
"Victor s-stop---!! A-ah--!"
Victor heard Azoth complaining while he was sliding up the boy's black sweater from his stomach. Examining a huge scar that ran down the very middle from his chest. "What is this?" He asked, dragging his fingernail along the scar, all the way up to the boy's sternum. "Did you have major surgery here?" Victor moved his face against Azoth's warm stomach, he could still hear him wheezing and coughing occasionally. Weakly struggling against his grip. None of this bothered him. He went on tasting the other's tanned skin, he must have had a bath not too long ago right? He didn't taste much like anything.
"Stop that!! V-Victor! Gg---!!"
That kid, always bossing him around. Victor slowly moved upward, his knee digging between Azoth's legs. "Don't get too excited," He said with a small laugh. Letting go of one of Azoth's hands to brush his fingers slowly through the boy's hair. "Am I being too rough?" He asked, arching a brow.
"Get off of me! Get off! GET OFF! G--"
He was silenced by Victor shoving two of his fingers into his mouth. Of course the kid was biting, but he was getting exhausted. Victor knew this, the bites were weak and lazy. It tickled actually. Victor simply laughed, grinding his knee against Azoth's groin.
"G-ghh.. an...ah--"
Azoth sounded both distressed and pleasured. However the pleasure was quite forced. The sounds of the count's groans and whimpers brought a smirk to Victor's face. "Who knew you could be so cute?.." He said, more to himself then to his boss. He doubted Azoth could hear him any way. Victor moved both hands to Azoth's head, threading his fingers through his luxurious raven hair. His lips pressing to the edge of Azoth's, rather wet mouth. He was coughing a lot after all, wasn't he? While Victor's hands were here instead of holding onto Azoth's arms, Azoth took his freedom to shove his small hands against Victor's shoulders. This had little to no effect, considering how exhausted he was.
Victor stroked his thumb over Azoth's cheek. "Now now..." He said with a sigh, frowning. "I'm trying to apologize for choking you like that. I'll make you feel good..." He said, sliding one hand down Azoth's torso, feeling at one of his nipples. Tracing one finger around it slowly, occasionally giving it a little flick. Watching the boy squirm underneath him was pleasing, but he wasn't satisfied. Just as Victor's fingers met the waistline of Azoth's pants, he felt something hot against his knee. Surprised, Victor looked down, seeing a growing wet patch on Azoth's pants.
"Eh?!" He shouted in surprise, moving away. Yes, the count Azoth Hassan. Boy of fourteen years old. Had wet himself.
Victor quickly saw himself out, but his face soon collided into Sullivan's. "Ah!" He cried out, holding his head. Looking up to see the silver haired butler, holding a candle lit light. It glowed a burning amber, matching that of the butler's eyes. Those that glared down at him.
"Mr.Wright, what were you doing in the Count's room?" He asked, though his voice was calm as it always was. There was the sound of danger behind it. Victor learned to detect this.
"I went to check up on him, I heard a shout during the thunder so I went to see if he was okay..." Victor paused, not breaking eye contact with Sullivan, as intense his glare was. "He wet the bed.. I ain't cleanin' it up." He finished, walking passed Sullivan quickly. Heading back to the cold first floor. Back to his room. Back to safety.