Pierceless

Pierceless

1.

Soubi stood on the balcony outside Ritsuka’s bedroom not saying anything. Ritsuka was working on the computer, doing some homework for his seventh-grade class. Exactly one year ago on this day, Soubi had brought an ear piercer here to Ritsuka. He’d held Ritsuka in his arms as the boy had pierced his ears, held him tight as he cried the tears for Soubi’s pain, tears Soubi would never cry. Ritsuka had had to be coaxed, challenged to pierce Soubi.

The pain had been combined with the bliss of being marked by Ritsuka. Soubi loved Ritsuka, and one day their eight-year difference wouldn’t mean anything—one day they would be lovers. Soubi didn’t lust after boys, didn’t think that it was right to have sex with boys before the age of eighteen—well, maybe seventeen—in a lot of countries seventeen was the age of consent. But Ritsuka was thirteen. He’d been twelve when they met. Soubi had been ordered to love Ritsuka, but he hadn’t expected to fall in love the way he had. He’d been ordered to love him like a friend, a brother, a son—but he loved him like a lover.

But Ritsuka, Ritsuka—Soubi couldn’t hurt Ritsuka, wouldn’t hurt Ritsuka. Even if it would make them a better fighting team, he wouldn’t sleep with Ritsuka until the boy was a young man. Seimei and Soubi had never sleep together—they hadn’t needed to because they shared the name, Beloved. But a team without the same name needed all the bonds possible to be strong. Bonding through sex would make Soubi and Ritsuka stronger. Ritsuka was Soubi’s love, and Soubi was no virgin and had no ears. Yet, little boys’ bodies didn’t excite Soubi—but Ritsuka, Ritsuka was another story. Kissing Ritsuka, touching Ritsuka, watching his body—these things made Soubi’s celibacy tolerable.

For celibate, that’s what Soubi would be for six long years, or maybe five—until Ritsuka was ready for sex. His pierced ears excited Soubi—it was pretty pathetic he knew, but true. He usually wore simple butterfly studs in his ears, but he had a pair of simple hoops. He rarely wore them, but when he did the feeling of tugging on the hoop, sliding the earring back and forth, made him remember Ritsuka penetrating his ears, his big eyes wide and teary, his lips trembling, his care for Soubi, his desire to please Soubi, his not wanting to hurt Soubi all there for Soubi to see. Sometimes at night, after removing the butterfly studs, Soubi would pinch his earlobes at the site of the piercing, so he could feel the hole beneath his fingertips.

Soubi tried not to masturbate—it made it hard to deny he was a pervert as Kio keep telling him he was. When he did, sometimes he tried to imagine Ritsuka at seventeen or eighteen. More often, he tried to think of nothing but Ritsuka’s eyes or Ritsuka’s lips—things that wouldn’t change. But too often the image of Ritsuka as he was now—young and vulnerable to his mother’s beatings, so tiny, so short--would rush into his mind making any further touching of Soubi’s self impossible. Soubi’s love for Ritsuka included a fierce need to protect him, to protect what he had left of his childhood.

Soubi didn’t know when The Fantasy had started. It was The Fantasy because it was the only one that he allowed himself to fully indulge in, the only one that always made him cum, left him exhausted, yet satiated. In The Fantasy, he was blindfolded, so he couldn’t see Ritsuka, only hear him and smell him. He was bound, usually spread-eagled, helpless—he couldn’t hurt Ritsuka, couldn’t scare Ritsuka, couldn’t force anything on his adorable, beloved Loveless. Ritsuka would kiss him, would touch him—would do it because he wanted to, and it was his right. He would put rings in Soubi’s ears and tug on them to the point of pain, saying in that way he had, “Soubi! Why did you make me pierce your ears? Tell me! Tell me! I order you!”

From his ears, Ritsuka’s focus would them move to Soubi’s mouth. Ritsuka would kiss him, would French kiss him, would bite his tongue, would let his tongue explore every bit of Soubi’s mouth. Sometimes in The Fantasy, Ritsuka would put his fingers into Soubi’s mouth and make him suck them—and sometimes it would be Ritsuka’s cock pushing deep into Soubi’s throat as he lay blindfolded and spread, unable to hide his arousal from his master. At times Ritsuka would be angry in The Fantasy, angry at Soubi’s erection, his desires—and he would punish Soubi.

Somewhere along the line, Soubi had begun to imagine Ritsuka pulling at not just rings on his ears, but on his nipples, on his cock. In The Fantasy when Ritsuka penetrated his ass, his hands would be tugging on rings in Soubi’s nipples, or stroking Soubi’s pierced cock. Lately when Ritsuka pushed his cock into Soubi’s mouth in The Fantasy, Soubi had a tongue piercing that gave Ritsuka more pleasure.

Tonight, one year since Ritsuka had pierced his ears, Soubi was here to ask for another piercing. It would have to be his tongue—Ritsuka was too young still to pierce his nipples, his cock. If Soubi could get Ritsuka to agree to do it, it would be painful. Fortunately with his special abilities, Soubi would heal fast. His hand had healed from a nail being driven through it in only days. Instead of the usual month and a half it took a tongue piercing to heal, it would probably take less than a week for the initial healing and only a few more weeks for the skin around the hole to thicken and begin to develop the texture that comes with full healing. The worst part would be not smoking.

Soubi stood on the balcony smoking what he hoped would be his last cigarette for a while. The sound of Ritsuka’s door sliding open and that familiar cry of “Soubi!”—an odd blend of accusation and welcome, made Soubi smile around his cigarette.

2.

It was that day, again. Once more Soubi was on Ritsuka’s balcony. Last year Ritsuka had not been willing to pierce his tongue, and Soubi had left unmarked. But Ritsuka was fourteen now, and they were closer. The cat-eared boy was growing bolder with Soubi. The bolder Ritsuka grew, the more restrained Soubi was. A kiss initiated by Ritsuka was worth ten that Soubi snatched from him.

This year would Ritsuka pierce him again? It was two years since Ritsuka had driven those holes into his ears—two years in which Soubi had waited for Ritsuka to mark him again. The sterile medical needle and platinum barbell for Soubi’s tongue were in the pocket of his long purple coat. Soubi didn’t even reach the sliding door before it was jerked open. Ritsuka’s big purple eyes glared at Soubi accusingly as he said in that familiar tone, “Soubi! I told you I have homework! What do you want?”

Soubi licked his lips slowly, flicked his tongue out, and paused with the tip of it sticking out. Ritsuka’s face immediately flushed red and his tail jerked wildly.

“Ritsuka,” Soubi began in a husky voice, “I want you to penetrate me, to mark me as yours again.”

“I pierced your ears for you, Soubi! Why isn’t that enough?”

“Do you remember when Zero tore the earring from my ear, Ritsuka? I want a piercing they won’t be able to tear away, one that I can feel all the time, feel inside me.”

“You’ll get infected, Soubi! You can’t stop smoking; you’re always smoking. Your mouth smells like an ashtray already, and now you want to give yourself an infection that will make it even more rotten.”

Soubi was used to pain, but this—this he hadn’t been expecting. “Do you dislike the smell of my mouth, Ritsuka? Is that why you don’t want to taste my mouth?”

“Soubi! Don’t be disgusting!”

“Would you taste me if I didn’t smoke?”

“Baka! Don’t ask me things like that!”

“If I have a piercing in my mouth, I think I could give up smoking. I'd give up smoking if that would mean you would put your tongue in my mouth. I could do it, Ritsuka, with a piercing.” Soubi didn’t think that it was possible for Ritsuka to get redder, but fascinatingly he did. He was panting a bit, and Soubi shut his eyes and hung his head afraid to look anymore at Ritsuka. Three more years, three more years till Ritsuka was seventeen.

“Come with me to the bathroom. You need to wash out your mouth and disinfect it, Soubi,” ordered Ritsuka. “You need to stop smoking—it gives you cancer. And don’t be expecting me to put my tongue in your mouth when you’ve been pierced—that could give you an infection too.”

“Yes, master,” said Soubi softly. Ritsuka had clearly researched tongue piercing, and hope was filling the fighter that he would have that metal inside his mouth soon. Ritsuka was talking as if he was going to do it, but Soubi knew that his sacrifice hated to inflicted pain, hated to cause bleeding.

In the bathroom, Ritsuka handed Soubi a bottle of disinfecting mouthwash. As he swirled the liquid around in his mouth, Soubi was grateful for his long coat and ashamed of his semi-arousal. To his surprise Ritsuka put his own toothbrush in Soubi's hand, demanding he brush his teeth as well.

Then, it happened.

Ritsuka jerked Soubi’s head down by the hair and kissed him—kissed him with his tongue. Soubi was so shocked he did nothing at first, but as Ritsuka’s tongue was pulling away, he responded. Soubi’s tongue met Ritsuka’s, not lustfully or forcefully, but gently with love. To be kissed as a lover by the one you love—this was a moment too sacred, too special, too perfect for Soubi to feel any need or desire for anything more. There was only one thing he could say when their mouths finally separated, “I love you, Ritsuka.”

His young love made Soubi wash his mouth out again and ordered him back to the bedroom, ignoring his declaration. It was a sign of their improved relationship that Ritsuka didn’t order him not to say that or call him a liar. Before leaving the bathroom, the younger boy carefully washed his own hands and gathered the things needed.

Somehow when they got back to the bedroom, words didn’t seem necessary anymore. Soubi sat exactly where he had when two years ago Ritsuka had pierced his ears. Ritsuka once more stood before him, his body now bigger and stronger. Soubi held his mouth open for Ritsuka, aroused, waiting for the thrust of the needle, the burst of pain, the flood of blood, the insertion of the bar into his mouth by his master, his love, his Loveless.

3.

It was that day again. Ritsuka was home from high school, on his computer—Soubi had talked to him by webcam before leaving to head to see him. He didn’t know if Ritsuka knew what day it was, knew that Soubi would be back again to ask for another piercing. But another year had changed Ritsuka—fifteen-year-old boys were interested in kissing, in touching, the way twelve, thirteen, and fourteen year old boys were not.

Ritsuka’s tongue was no longer a stranger to Soubi’s mouth. But Soubi fought his own desires to keep his tongue from thrusting into Ritsuka’s mouth, to keep himself from rubbing his body against Ritsuka’s. He was the servant, the one who was ordered. It was not for him to penetrate his master—unless ordered to do so.

It was a year since Soubi had smoked—for once the tongue piercing had healed, Ritsuka had started to French kiss Soubi—to test his mouth for smoke, for disobedience—since not smoking had become an order. And when Soubi thought about smoking he would move his tongue in his mouth, feeling those platinum balls against the roof and the base of his mouth, feeling the bar through the tongue move. He’d remember how it felt when Riksuka’s tongue explored those metal balls, played with his tongue, sucked and penetrated him. No cigarette was worth the loss of those kisses.

The sliding door was open, and as Soubi moved toward it, Ritsuka was there. They met just inside the room, and Ritsuka’s arms slid up around Soubi pulling his head down for a kiss.

“Do you miss it?” Ritsuka asked, his head against Soubi’s chest.

“Miss what?” asked Soubi, unsure what Ritsuka meant.

“Smoking, Soubi, do you regret piercing your tongue?” asked Ritsuka pulling away, trying to move further into the room.

Soubi grasped the teen’s arm, just like he had that first time they’d met, preventing him from running away, “Ritsuka, I love you. I’ll never regret or forget the two times you’ve marked me. I am yours, Ritsuka.”

“Soubi, stop it!” Ritsuka jerked away and moved over by his bed, facing away from Soubi.

“Ritsuka, please, penetrate me again, mark me again.”

“Again?” The teen turned around, shock and annoyance on his face, “No! I won’t pierce your lip or nose or eyebrow, Soubi!”

Soubi smiled—he hadn’t mentioned where he wanted to be pierced, but clearly Ritsuka was thinking about where he might want another piercing. “Why not?”

“Your hair would catch in it, and you’d look dumb. It’s dangerous—remember how your ear was torn. It’s too risky—your lips, your nose are too important.”

“Thank-you, Ritsuka,” said Soubi, deeply moved.

“Go, home, Soubi,” said Ritsuka, “there’s no marking this year.”

Soubi pulled the vial with the sterile needle out of his pocket and set in on Ritsuka’s desk. He set another small velvet pouch next to the vial. Then he slid off his coat, draping it over Ritsuka’s desk chair. He unbuttoned his cuffs and slowly began to unbutton his shirt.

Ritsuka’s eyes were wide, transfixed, and he had sunk down on his bed as if his legs wouldn’t hold him.

Soubi pulled off his shirt and set it on top of his coat. His nipples were already hard, but he moved his two hands up to brush them, showing Ritsuka what he wanted.

“Get out! Get out, now! That’s an order!”

4.

It was that day again. As the sunset, Soubi sat on his bed looking at the vial containing a sterilized piercing needle and the small black bag containing two small nipple rings. Nipple piercing was even more painful and slow to heal than a tongue piercing. A normal male would need at least two months for primary healing, maybe even four months. For Soubi, it would probably be a month. Then there was more time needed for the skin to toughen and fully heal. No touching or tugging on the nipples or rings could happen for at least two months for Soubi, up to eight months for someone without the healing power of a Spell fighter. Why did he want this?

Because he wanted Ritsuka, he loved Risuka, he craved Ritsuka—and even though Ritsuka put his tongue into Soubi’s mouth on a regular basis now, it wasn’t enough. He was sixteen now. A few sixteen year olds lost their ears and tails—more boys than girls. A girl who lost her ears so young would be labeled a slut. Good girls kept their ears until eighteen although it wasn’t uncommon for a girl to lose them at seventeen. By twenty-one, however, having ears and a tail was a bit humiliating. For boys, losing ears at seventeen was a sign of being “a stud” or popular, eighteen was the norm, and nineteen was for “slowpokes.” Having ears at twenty for a guy was pretty rare.

Being celibate at twenty-four was another thing that was pretty rare. If he was going to go see Ritsuka in his bedroom, to see Ritsuka to ask him to pierce his nipples, Soubi knew he’d better masturbate first. He didn’t want to have an erection around his sacrifice. They’d become too aware of each other’s bodies. Soubi didn’t want to scare Ritsuka away from him, to do anything that might drive Ritsuka to turn to one of the girls who were now flocking around him, flirting with him at high school.

Soubi put the vial and pouch on his nightstand and stripped. He lay on his back, eyes closed, and slid into The Fantasy. He wore a collar in The Fantasy now. Rituska would fuck his mouth, filling his throat with cum. He wouldn’t touch Soubi’s cock, however. In The Fantasy, Ritsuka liked to watch Soubi’s cock twitch with need, drip with precum. He would push Soubi’s legs back against his body, chaining his ankles behind his head, so Soubi’s anus would be exposed for Ritsuka to see. He’d unlock one cuff and have Soubi suck on his fingers, ordering him to penetrate himself, to prepare himself for Ritsuka. If he touched his own cock, Ritsuka would punish him—sometimes by a slap on the face, sometimes by penetrating him with no lubricant, sometimes by pinching his nipples and twisting them, sometimes slapping his cock. In The Fantasy, Soubi would be good, would try to please his master. He would force those salvia-slick fingers into himself, stretching himself, until his master was pleased. Then Ritsuka would--

“Soubi!”

Soubi’s eyes flew open to meet Ritsuka’s shocked ones. He was naked on his bed with two fingers deep in his ass, his cock rock hard and dripping—and the man he loved was looking at him, no, looking at his cock, at his fingers. Oh, god, Ritsuka was looking, wasn’t running, was really looking—shit, no, he was going to bolt. Soubi pulled his fingers out and was reaching for his shirt when Ritsuka cried out, “No, go to the bathroom and—and fix yourself—and wash yourself afterwards! I don’t want you chasing after me like that or touching me until you are clean!”

Soubi’s entire body shook—Ritsuka ordering him to jerk off and clean himself—oh god, oh god—

“Go now, or I’ll leave! I’m giving you five minutes, Soubi!”

Soubi went—it didn’t take five minutes. He cleaned himself and wrapped himself in a towel. When he came back into the bedroom, Ritsuka was sitting on his bed with the nipple rings on his palm staring at them.

“Soubi! I won’t do it!” snapped out Ritsuka angrily, throwing the rings across the room. He snatched the vial from the bedstand, stood up, and strode over to a corner of the room. “I order you not to pierce your nipples!” cried out Ritsuka, throwing the vial on the floor and stamping on it. The sound of the glass breaking was loud in the room. Ritsuka then stormed over to Soubi and pushed him against the closest wall—and leaned in and bit one of Soubi’s nipples. Then he was sucking, pinching, licking them.

For a moment, Soubi lost it—he had Ritsuka on his bed and was rubbing his naked body against his clothed one, pushing his tongue into Ritsuka’s mouth, when his head was jerked back by his hair.

Soubi immediately pulled himself off Ritsuka, off the bed, apologizing, begging for forgiveness.

Ritsuka didn’t say anything, but he slowly stood up and moved to the door.

Soubi suddenly pulled open the top drawer of the nightstand by his bed. He took the handcuffs with the key still attached from the drawer and saying, “Ritsuka, catch,” threw them at the sixteen year old.

Ritsuka caught them and looked at Soubi with a look that would haunt the fighter for years—his sacrifice was horrified and disgusted with him. “Ritsuka, please, please, cuff me if you ever want to, ah, well,” Soubi broke off, not wanting to enrage the teen anymore. He just repeated again, “I’m so sorry, Ritsuka, oh god, Ritsuka, I love you.”

“I order you not to come see me tonight, Soubi—unless we need to fight or it has to do with Septimal Moon, that is.” With that Ritsuka turned and left, Soubi’s apartment.

Soubi stood up and collapsed on his bed. His emotions were in a tangle. But the fact that Ritsuka had taken the cuffs gave him hope. As for piercing his nipples—no, that would never happen. His master, his love, Ritsuka wanted his nipples the way they were. He’d licked them and bit them; he’d sucked them—and how could a nipple ring ever satisfy him now that he’d had Ritsuka’s mouth on him? And Ritsuka would be seventeen in less than a year—he’d gone four years without sex, the time left could be endured . . .

5.

Soubi didn’t fall back on The Fantasy very much any more. Yuiko and Yoyoi lost their ears a few months after Ritsuka had fled Soubi’s room holding those cuffs. Ritsuka’s two friends had learned from him not to be afraid to be different from the rest of their class and to value love. Only a few days after his friends had taken each other’s virginity, Ritsuka cuffed Soubi for the first time. His tongue had explored Soubi’s mouth, neck, ears, chest, nipples—and Soubi had, to his embarrassment, cum in his pants. Ritsuka had left him with his hands cuffed and locked himself in the bathroom to masturbate.

Soubi, left alone, had immediately hardened again at the sounds coming from the bathroom. He had lowered his cuffed hands and managed to undo his pants and find his own release to the sound of Ritsuka’s muffled whimpers. When Ritsuka had returned, he’d kissed Soubi long and hard before taking the cuffs and leaving with an order not to follow him.

Soubi had gone ahead and attached fur lined cuffs for his wrists and ankles to his bed. Ritsuka hadn’t minded when he’d discovered them—he’d promptly put them to use and put the key to them on his key ring.

It had take two months of begging before Ritsuka stopped running to the bathroom to finish himself off and was willing to masturbate before a chained Soubi. It took another month for Ritsuka to stop cumming in a towel and spray his seed on to Soubi’s body as Soubi cried out his love.

This sexual play without actual sex was enough for Soubi—he didn’t need the cuffs anymore to hold himself back from being aggressive with his sacrifice—to obey Ritsuka’s commands in bed was itself an ecstasy that Soubi savored.

6.

It was that day again. Soubi had gotten a text message from Ritsuka—be naked when I get there after school today. The seventeen year old was now only a little shorter than Soubi. When he arrived, he cuffed Soubi’s wrists and ankles before pulling off his clothes.

“Soubi, do you have something you want to ask me today?”

“Yes, master.”

“Go ahead and ask me now.”

“Ritsuka, please penetrate me, please make me your own.”

“Yes, Soubi, I will.”

“I love you, Ritsuka.”

“Open your mouth, Soubi,” ordered the cat-eared teen as he straddled him. A furry tail wrapped itself around Soubi’s cock and began stroking him. “I’m not going to have this tail much longer, Soubi, so I want to do this while I can.”

Soubi moaned at the sensation of the fur gripping and stroking him. But Ritsuka’s cock was sliding into his mouth. And for the first time in months, Soubi was straining at his chains. He couldn’t help it—his hands longed to guide Ritsuka into his mouth, to touch the parts he couldn’t suck into him, to grip Ritsuka’s ass and pull him forward so that cock was buried in his throat completely. The tail working his cock had Soubi bucking up, thrusting into that furry grip.

But Ritsuka, young and inexperienced, was cumming into Soubi’s mouth after only minutes. And the sight of his orgasm, the taste of his cum, the tightening of that tail on his cock sent Soubi over the edge too, spraying his cum on Ritsuka’s back.

The teen uncuffed him, and they shared a bottle of water, snuggled, touched, and kissed until Ritsuka was hard again. “Soubi, please prepare yourself like you did that first time I saw you naked,” came the soft whisper.

“Yes, master.”

But it was different putting his finger inside himself with Ritsuka watching, waiting for him, rubbing his own cock with the lube that had been sitting in that top drawer for months now, waiting for this moment.

At last Soubi drew his fingers out, his hands shaking, and his voice a bit shaky as well, “I love you, Ritsuka, please love me, please love me.”

Then at last, Ritsuka thrust into him, crying out, “Soubi!”

And after that, there was nothing but love between them.