The Mist and the Lightning. Part 18. Ви Корс
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Lie on your back, lie down,” Kors sat down on his chest, pressing his hands trembling with excitement into the fluffy skins, hastily pulling out his long erect and sweetly aching cock.
“Let… let me cum on your beautiful eyes…”
They continued, and Kors didn’t hit him and no longer hurt him or made him feel bad, because he was madly in love with him.
However, the next day he saw that his Nik was sad and indifferent to everything. Kors understood that he wanted to go to his unclean ones, but didn’t understand how to stop him.
“Nik, are you offended by me?” He asked finally.
“No,” Nik muttered. Still, he sounded very displeased, and, as Kors felt, not respectful enough.
“Talk to me normally! When will it reach your head that I am doing everything only for your good? If it happens that you cannot use the Demon’s power, what will you do?”
“I managed to cope without power too…”
“Why are you snarling now? There is no doubt that as a person you are weak and not smart, to my great regret. I saw how you “managed”. You couldn’t handle it, Nik! And they put you so that it was more convenient to walk on you. Only your appearance helped you, and even then – others played with you and wore you out, made you a slut. I understand it sounds unfortunate, and I still love you very much, even such one, but you need to develop your human mind, it can save you at a critical moment, and for this you must learn to listen to me.”
“I obey you.”
“You must learn to obey the right way, without any offense or discontent, but with gratitude.”
“Thank you, dad, I’m sorry…”
“Gods, you utter this phrase without any understanding! You just say the same thing thoughtlessly. It’s not that… it’s not that…” Kors paused in frustration, and Nik lay down on his face, his face buried in the skins.
Finally, Kors raised his head and smiled, as if a thought had crossed his mind.
“Nik … Do you want to tattoo me? Make me a tattoo.”
“What?!”
“Do you want?”
“Are you kidding?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Do you really want it?” Nik raised himself on an elbow with interest, his face came to life.
“Yes, I do,” smiled Kors, feeling a surge of interest from Nik and the fact that the desire to go for a walk faded into the background.
“Which one?!”
“I don’t know, just anything you want.”
“And where?!”
“Where you want!”
“But I don’t know…”
“Write on me: “Belongs to Nik and Arel”. Do you want it on my chest? Write that I am your thing, that I am shit. Something dirty and vulgar. Write: “I, Kors, a true black, love two cocks in my ass at the same time!”
Nik laughed, and Kors heard that he was no longer thinking about going for a walk. With his non-trivial proposal, Kors seemed to have managed to overshadow all his thoughts about unclean ones, cards and night gatherings.
“Write: “pound me like the last brute” or “I suck unclean cocks.”
“Vitor, why are you doing this, don’t do it,” Nik came to life completely, and his eyes stopped being like empty glass, “I'd rather make beautiful patterns.”
“You can do whatever you want with me. Oh, right, draw your portrait on me! Draw yourself on one side of my chest, and draw a portrait of Arel on the other. Just like the albino has Salafael drawn on his chest.”
“Oh, Vitor! It is very beautiful, but I cannot…”
“Why? After all, you are great at drawing. You painted the prince beautifully.”
“Yes, but getting a tattoo… it’s a little different. My hand will not allow it, it trembles with effort, I can only make neatly simple patterns.”
“Okay, make patterns, I'm ready for anything!”
“Thank you, daddy!” Said Nik, and now these words sounded very sincere and real.
Kors allowed Nik to tattoo his body the way he wanted. He took off his clothes, lay on his stomach on the skin completely undressed, dropping his head on folded hands, and Nik decorated his tailbone and the side of his thigh with black patterns. He no longer wanted to go to play cards and forgot about the unclean.
And Kors, despite the pain, also felt good and quiet.
Chapter 6
Nik was tattooing Kors.
“Does it hurt?” He asked with genuine concern in his voice.
“No,” lied Kors. He felt pain, and Nik understood it, because they “heard” each other’s emotions and thoughts.
Kors buried his face in his folded hands again. He felt that Prince Arel, who until then, as usual, was lazily lying on the neighboring skin, moved closer to him. Feeling the breath on top of his head, Kors raised his head from his folded arms and looked up at the prince with a little questioning expression. He liked Arel’s beautiful face, covered in a thin layer of light gray paint, and his eyes outlined in black. Kors was used to seeing Arel as he was throughout his life: painted, with a gray face framed by long dark hair parted in the middle, and with crazy brown eyes that were naturally bright and additionally accentuated by black paint. Kors had long perceived this image of him quite naturally, and in those rare moments when Arel’s face was clean, he, on the contrary, seemed to him somehow alien, unusual and unnatural.
Arel brought his blackened lips closer to Kors’ face and kissed him, as if comforting. Kors immediately responded to the kiss, feeling a pleasant warmth inside his abdomen and the way Arel’s lips differed from Nik’s: they were not so plump, a little hard because of the paint layer, without rings that always rattled on Kors’ teeth when he kissed Nik. Arel pressed his lips to Kors’, thrusting his tongue into his parted mouth. They began to kiss, and Arel hugged Kors’ head with his arms.
“Arel, Vitor, well, you’re bothering me,” said Nik. At the same time, his voice was gentle. “Vitor, your ass is now covered with goosebumps,” Nik laughed quietly and shortly.
Kors and Arel broke the kiss with obvious regret, but not for long, because Arel continued to lie nearby, and they looked at each other the way loving people look. Kors involuntarily thought about how many circles of hell the prince went through before he found his Gift and the Demon considered the training completed. Or has the Demon not finished yet and has restored Arel, just to give him a little respite?
“What strength of mind does one need to have to withstand all that has happened to you, my poor prince?” Thought Kors, looking at Arel’s calm and unburdened face.
“You, too, are like a son to me, I love you very much, and, probably, I have always loved you, even when I drove you away. Nik is my son, but I am your father too. There are three of us, and we will be together, because this unity is our strength.” Unable to resist, Kors again reached for Arel, and he immediately responded.
“Are you doing it again?! Stop crawling back and forth, Vitor! You said you wanted me to tattoo you, and now you can’t lie still!” Nik was indignant.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Kors answered hastily, stepping back from the prince.
Arel sighed, and, taking himself by his cock, rubbed it back and forth a little, thus trying to relieve tension. Kors, seeing how Arel, moving his hand, completely bared the head of his cock, then closed it with his foreskin, involuntarily breathed heavily and swallowed.
He tried not to look at Arel in order to stop, as Nik put it, “crawling back and forth”.
“Vitor, stop imagining my cock,” Nik said after