my demon~ Kino

cruelty

Chapter 1:

I wasn't much one for love anyway.

I mean, I enjoyed the idea of loving someone however. The idea of dating, of marriage. Professing your undying love for someone to live happily ever after. To grow old with someone, to give everything to them and have them equally give everything back. Having a person see you for who you are and not shy away, but to accept you as you are.

Yet it always seemed impossible for me to meet someone who I didn't want to JUST fulfill my needs.

When it comes to trying to love, I've always failed. I know it's utterly deplorable--but I can't help but lust over the curves of a woman's hips--either outward or inward. How warm and sticky the insides of us feel when we come together. It's not that I haven't...tried. Or haven't loved someone before--but it always gets in the way. The need for more, the craving.

So I learned to combat the craving, or need if you will. Learned to hide the glossiness of my eyes when I felt the urge to... I willed this demon to my command, refusing to be pulled by something so--perverted. Yet, sometimes--and only sometimes--I'd let it roam free. And I hate to toot my own horn but...someone call Amazon because I'm packing.

Anyway, love was difficult for a man like me. I was either in a relationship that ended because of my demon, or was in bed with someone who wanted a relationship but I wanted strictly sex with her--keeping my feelings away from my needs. It never made me feel like I was someone worth being loved either. This was wrong, right? It had to be... but what was I supposed to do? If I didn't do anything about the craving at all, I would be torn to shreds by my demon. But living like this made me feel like a piece of grime on a moldy bathroom floor. Every night I'd tried to scrub the feeling off--but oh! How I enjoyed the pleasure. The feeling of wet lips peppering down my neck, nipping my skin with sharp teeth. Temperature steaming up any mirrors and light, breathy moans, and a pit-sinking feeling when I hit my climax. Beautiful, I felt utterly beautiful during the act, but about an hour later my brain finally caught up with what I'd done--what'd I'd have to do, and I would feel the same guilt as a murderer...assuming they had guilt.

During this cruel, cruel cycle--I did find joy in something. Dancing. I thought if I couldn't love a person, and if a person couldn't love me back, I would find love in dancing. In feeling the way my limbs would pop and jolt and stretch and compress to execute moves. The love of dance filled my heart in the spaces that were desperately aching. Every ball change and body roll left a smile imprinted on my face. Soon, dance became a way of life. I was doing it all the time--I mean--there's no way I wouldn't become great faster than normal. One of my close friends, Shinwon, he--he talked a couple scouts into watching me perform. He is the one to thank for my new job dancing in a broadway musical.

The first few practices were nothing but mundane rules and regulations. The need twinged in my lower back, as I fought the urge to bite my lip. None of you would believe me if I said I was an innocent, pure child before the age of sixteen--before I discovered my demon. I was a gentleman--still am! But--I--I had to excuse myself to the bathroom before hearing the last of instructions... Trust me when I tell you I didn't want to, but there's only so long I can hold off without losing control.

Alaia, her name learned from various shouts and screams, was leaned against the wall across from the small bathroom occupying the corner of the studio. She only grimly smirked at me, like she overheard a slight moan that escaped my lips. I lowered my head, and shuffled around her.

That was the first interaction with the love of my life.