Universe (VegasPete) R18

Chapitre 21 - Eat or be eaten (+18)

-Vegas-

As long as I can remember I was always attracted by sensuality. Since I was a teenager, I was fascinated by bodies and their movement.

Of all my senses, sight always was and still is the trigger of most of my perverted thoughts.

I used to think that my high sex drive was enslaving me. For a long period of time, I was disgusted by that incontrollable urge. The urge of owning someone in the purest form that could exist.

Deep inside, it was a way to make them mine to broke them. Hearing them begging me to stop, feeling their bodies shattered under me, knowing I was in control.

Consuming a part of their soul to finally crush it in the palm of my hand. It was a way for me to let go of all my rage and resentment. The only way I could find to not dive completely and definitely into insanity.

Sex and violence were indissociable. I never made love, I only fucked.

Until Pete.

Since the first day our eyes met, something in me changed. The feeling when I look at him. The feeling when I touch him. When I'm holding him in my arms, when he is giving his entire self to me. When he trusts me enough to abandon his body to me.

I know I have consume a part of his soul too. But it's the first time I want to make it mine. The first time I want to keep it like a precious treasure.

Because when Pete left. When I let him go, perfectly aware I would maybe never see him again, he left with a part of me.

And that part was my innocence.

The only good thing left deep inside of me, buried in the ruins of my childhood. The only thing my father didn't kill.

I relived all my first time with Pete. And it felt like being born again.

I stubbed my cigarette. My hand stopped bleeding, but the pain started to spread along my fingers. I felt ashamed from my sudden burst of rage once again. My heart was still beating hard in my chest, a sensation of restlessness spreading inside me. I felt something wrong.

I don't know if it was because I stopped what Pete and I were doing a few minutes ago or because I was worried about him not being around, outside at that time of the night.

I grabbed my phone and as I was scrolling through the pictures, I realized that I only had three photos of Pete.

I opened the first one which was the first picture we ever took of us together. We were at the hospital, the night after I woke up. We both looked exhausted. I was the only one looking at the camera lens. Pete was looking at me with a feeling hard to describe. It almost felt like admiration.

The second was a picture of Pete holding Red in his arm when he was just a newborn. I remember he insisted for me to take this, and I also remember I was already fucking pissed to have to share him with that creature and above all I had to capture this moment.

I purposely only took a part of Red's face in the frame which made Pete cursed at me when he saw the result. I chuckled thinking about his annoyed gaze.

The last one was a picture I took the afternoon before I was discharged. Pete felt asleep in my arms, holding my shirt tightly. I remember it was the first time I had the chance to really look at him sleeping without him being tied by the chains.

It opened something in my heart making me feel complete for the first time in my life. I took this picture without him knowing. I wanted to hold to that moment, as furtive as it was, to remember that I can't fuck things up now that he had the courage to come back to me.