CAR 26

But Vittorio Bonaparte, as if greatly impressed by Dennis’s active touch, was instead in a state of high excitement. Dennis felt something akin to awe at the thing between Vittorio’s thighs, which repeatedly rose and pulsed.

“The stage, the stage… must be ready.”

“I’ve always been like this.”

“Always?”

“So that I don’t get hard during the performance, in the waiting room, always.”

Like this. With those words, Vittorio’s head twisted. He brought his mouth down and took a large bite of Dennis’s lips. Dennis’s lips parted on their own, and his defenseless insides were opened according to Vittorio’s desire. Vittorio sucked on Dennis’s lips.

The wet mass was mashed and parted by Vittorio’s tongue numerous times. Vittorio’s kiss, too, was unnecessarily persistent, and also messy. Dennis’s mouth, smeared with saliva, was a wretched sight.

Vittorio’s blunt tongue annoyingly dug around as if to gouge out everything of Dennis’s. Just as his stiff tongue, too, was swayed by him and let out a shrill moan, Vittorio suddenly bit down on Dennis’s lower lip.

Literally, he had savagely bitten him. Dennis, feeling pain, twisted his upper body. Vittorio, who had sunk his teeth into Dennis’s soft lips, smiled vilely like a scoundrel engaged in piracy. He greedily sucked on Dennis’s lips, which were mixed with saliva and blood, as if he had been waiting for it.

At some point, the excessively erect piece of flesh brushed against Dennis’s lower abdomen. He, when facing Dennis, was always naked. Dennis found that repulsive and frightening.

Vittorio, clad in nothing, seemed to be clearly revealing that this very moment was his rock bottom and his origin. He felt like a marble statue sculpted solely from primal desire and pleasure.

Dennis’s lips trembled faintly. Due to their teeth clashing so much, it felt as if they had had sex with their lips.

Vittorio was now sucking on the nape of Dennis’s neck. Vittorio, who had been scraping Dennis’s low-protruding Adam’s apple with his front teeth, let out a sneer.

Vittorio, who had rubbed and laid his wet tongue on Dennis’s deep collarbone, sequentially lowered his hand. He snatched Dennis’s thing in one go. Dennis, as if having a seizure, looked down at Vittorio’s hand.

Since when had it been? Dennis, too, was half-hard, and the reddish tip was faintly wet. Vittorio smiled as if that was very delightful.

“So earnest.”

Being told his lower body was earnest was an insult he had never heard in his life. Dennis knew better than anyone that it was not a compliment.

Vittorio’s thumb rubbed Dennis’s glans. Vittorio, who had been nonchalantly looking down at his naturally wet fingerprint, impulsively pressed it onto Dennis’s cheek. Dennis, who had his own seed suddenly smeared on his cheek, looked up at him blankly.

“Want a lick?”

“…You son of a bitch.”

When Dennis vehemently refused, Vittorio shrugged. He licked his thumb, wet with Dennis’s fluid, as if to show it off. He looked so accustomed to and brazen in the act that he didn’t even feel a sense of nausea.

Vittorio grabbed Dennis’s thing again. He was squeezing it as if to wring it out. Dennis, dominated by faint arousal and pain, let out a scream.

“Ah…! Ah, it hurts! It hurts…”

“Such a crybaby.”

Vittorio, roughly holding Dennis’s thing, pulled him along. Vittorio, who had slung the tights hanging on the wall over his shoulder, still led Dennis to the stage with his cock in his grasp.

Dennis felt like he was about to faint. His eyes were on the verge of rolling back.

The stage, with its long curtain drawn, was cool. The murmuring of the audience beyond the curtain sounded extremely loud. The lights shining down on the crowns of their heads were vaguely persistent. Vittorio, who, of all the many body parts, had grabbed his cock by the root, pulled Dennis along with a nonchalant face. A terrible thought engulfed Dennis’s entire body.

Vittorio flung Dennis into the center of the stage. Dennis, whose lower body was now fully exposed, tumbled on the wooden stage. His thin trousers were lying somewhere backstage.

“You… you, don’t tell me…”

“Shh.”

Vittorio, who had brought his index finger to his lips, stretched as if warming up. Bending his body, Vittorio calmly put on the tights. However, he left only his penis resting on top and approached Dennis.

Vittorio gestured with his chin towards the seats on the left and muttered.

“Legs.”

Vittorio watched Dennis impassively. Dennis felt like an insect crawling on the stage. He hadn’t even said to spread them, but he keenly understood that he was advising him to spread them. Dennis refused both him and the act.

“Right.”

“…”

“If you were to be tamed by just a few threats, you wouldn’t be Dennis Kahler.”

Vittorio Bonaparte extended his foot. He extended his leg towards Dennis with a very clean movement, as if starting a solo performance. Dennis, assuming it would be a kick, closed his eyes first, but what Vittorio’s sole stepped on was, unexpectedly, below Dennis’s genitals.

He stomped on Dennis’s scrotum. At the unfamiliar sensation of his most tender flesh being crushed, Dennis’s eyes felt like they would pop out. Dennis covered his mouth to suppress the scream that had risen to his throat.

“Ugh, ah…!”

Vittorio was still looking down at Dennis’s lower body with an indifferent face. The tip of his foot stepped on the shaft. The blunt flesh was being mercilessly crushed by Vittorio’s pointed foot.

Dennis’s legs spread on their own. Every time Dennis tried to twist his body, Vittorio put force into his foot. Dennis Kahler was gradually being broken just by his foot.

His penis, which had been delayed by fear and pain, slowly began to rise. Vittorio stepped on Dennis’s groin deliberately and slowly. Sometimes, the arch of his sole would rub against his shaft.

“Grab it.”

Vittorio’s nod was oppressive. Dennis, who had been pleading while gripping Vittorio’s calf, grabbed his own thing as if he had been waiting for it. The back of his hand trembled. Every time Vittorio stared at the audience as if bored with this act, fear dominated his entire body.

“Next… what should I do.”

Dennis held his own thing and shook it slowly. In truth, it was a clumsier hand movement than being rubbed by Vittorio’s foot. And why not? He had done it himself less than five times in his entire life.

Every time the flesh became erect, Dennis felt a sense of guilt. Furthermore, perhaps because of Dennis’s clumsy fumbling, the most it got was half-hard. Dennis, feeling helpless, looked up at Vittorio.

He was smiling.

At his lips, twisted up high, Dennis felt as miserable as a vagrant who had been stoned. Now, having exposed his private parts to Vittorio Bonaparte and even performed a clumsy masturbation, Dennis was his faithful clown.

Realizing that fact, he just wanted to bite his tongue. His rampant penis also gradually subsided. Vittorio was holding back his laughter, his shoulders trembling.

“Dennis.”

“…”

“I’ll give you a reward.”

A reward? He had never wished for such a thing, nor did he have any intention of receiving it. Whatever Vittorio gave was terrible and gruesome. He did not consider Dennis an equal human being.

“Ge, get lost… You damned, hopeless, good-for-nothing seed…”

“If I plant mine in your belly…”

“…”

“How ecstatic would that be.”

Dennis did not answer. A long shadow was cast over Dennis’s slender body. Vittorio’s thing, watching the masturbation, had already spewed out something faint. It fell repeatedly onto Dennis’s thick pubic hair.

His large hand grabbed a handful of Dennis’s pubic hair. When he pulled it, Dennis’s head snapped back. Vittorio, without any warning, pushed three fingers into his hole at once. Dennis’s neck arched back even more than before. A silent scream filled the stage.

“It won’t do to be climaxing already.”

“Hah, ah… Wa, wait a moment… Vittorio…!”

“On this sacred stage.”

Dennis turned his head without realizing it. There was a slight gap between the long curtain covering the stage and the stage itself. He could see the audience seats from there. The audience, anticipating Vittorio’s performance, were exchanging expectant conversations among themselves.

Dennis’s entire body trembled as if having a seizure. He clenched his fists without realizing it. Vittorio, as if he had read Dennis’s fear, smiled bizarrely.

Dennis would rather have stabbed his own eyes. Vittorio, arching his back, wrapped himself around Dennis’s entire body. Feeling as if he were crushed under the coils of a long snake, Dennis turned his head as if in resignation. Vittorio’s face, with the lights at his back, was completely black.

Every time he breathed out, he could clearly feel his fingers shoved down there. Whether Dennis, unaccustomed to the act, defensively tightened his insides or not, he was deliberately pushing in deeper.

The bone of Vittorio’s protruding hand briefly touched his perineum. He couldn’t even twist his body like usual. It was because all his nerves were focused there.

“Vi, torio…”

Yes, he replied in a deceptively gentle manner. For the voice of a man pushing him, it was excessively low and quiet. Dennis’s thing, which had subsided, faintly rose.

“I’ll, definitely…”

“Kill me?”

He, who had snatched Dennis’s words, smiled faintly. Vittorio, bracing himself on the floor with one arm, twisted his head. He blew on the sweat that had formed on Dennis’s forehead. There was a faint smell of the sea.

“You can’t kill me, Dennis Kahler.”

Do you know why? Vittorio, who had asked that, launched an assault on Dennis’s ear. Whether Dennis trembled like some bird or not, he gnawed on his cartilage and licked up his auricle.

Suddenly, he felt a sense of déjà vu. It was the same earlobe that Yan had bitten and let go of.

Vittorio’s eyes were gleaming.

“To kill me… you have to know about this place.”

“Ngh, ah…”

“You have to know about yourself.”