MR. BAD GUY (ENGLISH VERSION)

PAIN IS SO CLOSE TO PLEASURE

Enzo didn't know what to do. The windows couldn't be open, the door either. There was no chance to run away. Once admitted he couldn't get to escape, he took a shower and cried desperately. He had stripped him away everything. He had no clothes, his things weren't there, his phone wasn't available. He had to remind himself he couldn't take away his identity just like this. He was still Enzo Efseryan.

He pressed his tensed hands between his legs. He wanted to forget about the humilliations. He didn't intend crying again because Lars got horny with his pain, his confusion, his helplessness.

He spent many hours on his own. Sometimes sleeping, sometimes nibbling, sometimes reading. He had some interesting books but of course, he couldn't focus in the books. Suddenly he remembered he had to put his clothes on for him. He rummaged the bag which he threw at him. He put on the red thong with white waistband and the red tie. Nothing else. He looked at himself on the full-lenght mirror. Lars was right, he was a sex bomb. It made his body slimmer, larger.

It would be a good idea put on some makeup. Red lipstick, curling his long eyelashes, put on some kohl which it suited so well his eyes, but not too much. Enzo blew a kiss to himself.

He could hear the key on the lock. He felt goosebumps. He heard how Lars left the keys on the hall. He spied on him from the corner. The german took off his jacket. He seemed to exhale hard. He could hear clearly his breathe. He was seeing him but he wasn't aware. He leant out of a corner watching his coming. He went up to the fridge and took a sip from the milk carton. He wiped out with the side of his hand. Enzo didn't dare to move. Where did it come from that assurance, that self confidence? He didn't search him, he took for granted he was still there. He didn't think the actor could run away. He went along to the kitchen and Enzo returned quickly to where he was before. In front of the bedroom mirror. Lars stood there his arms folded while he watched his outfit. He looked serious.

- What are you doing? -he asked not unfolding his arms.

- Me?

- Yes, you. There's noone else in the room.

- I'm waiting for you -he confessed looking down, trying to be submissive.

- That's not true. You are looking at yourself in the mirror...

- I was thinking of put on some makeup for you.

Like a whirlwind he went up to him and grabbed him by the neck tightly, crashing him onto the wall. His eyes shone wildly. He pressed his jaw and his hands grabbed his neck, pressing just in the middle.

- Don't dare to interrupt me again, damn you! -he shouted with his wrinkling nose sticking to his.

He looked at him in fear, trying to push his hands apart his neck but he couldn't. Lars moved away when he felt like. Enzo started to cough. He grabbed his both cheeks forcing to looking up to him.

- Who had told you what you wear is yours? You only wear it. All you wear is only for my pleasure.

- I just wanted to see how I looked -he just came up to say and looked down again.

- Do you think I'm sucking my thumb? I know perfectly what kind of man you are, Enzo. I knew since I put my eyes on you in the lift.

- And who am I? -now he looked at him straight to his eyes. He almost challenged him.

- You are a little bitch. You are used to do whatever you fancy. Using men at your will. Your professional success contributes to it, sure. You are very conceited, aren't you?

- What are you talking about? You don't know me.

- You think I'm falling in love with you like an idiot. Don't get confused, peach. You are just one more dick.