Soul Binder – Prologue [Gay] [MM] [Horror]

**Prologue**

Every time I closed my eyes, faces appeared. Men. Some with beards, some clean shaven. Some with hair, some bald. All handsome, rugged, and good looking. And though I didn’t know why, I knew they were all mine. Each and every single one.

But when my eyes opened, they vanished. Like a dream or an illusion. However, the feelings lingered. Enough to keep me awake, when I should be sleeping. I exhaled—to release the excitement of the vision, the tension growing between my legs—and it plumed out as a subtle white cloud.

A sudden freeze had blown over that evening. Despite the May flowers that had bloomed several weeks earlier or the robins that sang in the trees yesterday morning. Still, feathery strands of ice clawed at the windows, a reminder that winter hadn’t surrendered yet. But it wasn’t the cold that made me tremble.

I tugged at the layers of blankets that lay on top of me, tucking their edges along my sides and beneath my legs, in an attempt to trap the heat. But still, I shivered.

*Had the heater gone out?* *Did their heat get shut off?*

After jumping around from foster home to foster home, it’d become a common occurrence to find myself without heat, or water, or electricity, or some kind of basic utility. Sometimes, I had to get pretty creative just to take a piss or prevent my toes from freezing off. I guess that was the benefit of being in the foster care system for nearly my entire life. One learns how to survive and make due. But with how big of a house these new foster parents owned—not to mention that fancy car—I had hoped that was now in the past. Maybe just like everyone else, they just needed the money. It would make sense as to why they took in a sixteen year old.

The soft roar of the furnace kick on, and with that simple rebuttal, warm air began to spew into the room.

*I guess they didn’t need the money.*

Bit by bit, my misty breaths faded and the feeling in my feet returned.

“You’ll love your room, Josh,” John said when he and Frannie picked me up a week ago.

“The décor might be too childish for your age, but we can fix that,” Frannie said.

It was a tad childish, themed with science, satellites, and superheroes, but it was a room. With just me. And a big bed, my own closet, lots of warm blankets, and even a desk with a computer. Frankly, I was shocked. It was the most generous room I’d ever been given.

A soft chime echoed through the silence—the clock in the living room—disturbing my quick trip down memory lane. It was 1:00 am now, and I was still wide awake. Unable to sleep. Unable to dream. I found it strange that even though I’d moved around more times in a year than the average teenager ever would in their entire life, it still took me weeks to get comfortable enough to sleep.

I rubbed my eyes and rolled on to my left side, hoping that a change of position might finally bring dreams. It didn’t. Instead, I met with a poster that hung on the wall, a poster of buff super heroes, squeezed into skin tight outfits. It may have been just a drawing, but damn…it was a good drawing. Such great detail and accuracy. Even down to the slight bulge between their legs.

Maybe I should’ve told John and Frannie I was gay. I thought about it, but then ultimately decided to just keep it secret. Because who would want a scrawny, gay teen who was barely five foot one. My age alone scared off every other couple who ever considered it and those who did entertain it eventually opted out for *personal* reasons. Probably because they thought I was weak and sickly, and would require too much care. Though in hindsight, my height and young looks could’ve been why John and Frannie decided to go for it. Even if I wasn’t a little kid anymore, I still looked like one.

I clutched the blankets tight against my neck, still gazing at that poster, and despite the warmth that had now begun to fill the room, my body still shivered. It definitely was not the cold that kept me awake. It was almost like a craving. Or a hunger. A deep, uncontrollable hunger. With a blink, the faces again appeared and vanished, and I hungered even more.

*John is like a superhero*. My mind wandered. *Hot and muscled like a fucking superhero*. With bulging, round muscles, clear blue eyes, and a square jaw that made my knees weak. Every time I saw him, I just wanted to…just wanted to eat him. Swallow him whole. It took all I had to not stare at him each they visited the care center, each time we met, even on the car ride here. Just thinking about it made me tremble, to near rattling out of my bed.

After several minutes, I finally threw off the blankets, sat upright, and planted my feet onto the cold floor. It was useless. I couldn’t sleep. I got up, tucked my feet into the pair of soft slippers—another first time luxury—and cracked open my bedroom door.

The dim glow of a couple night lights illuminated the hallway with almost an ethereal feel. Frannie had complained that they weren’t ever bright enough, and even John had stumbled over stuff in the dark from time to time. But to me, they were almost too bright, as if I were walking through the corridors in broad daylight. I guess, I just preferred hiding in the shadows.

I poked my head out and listened, making sure that John and Frannie were well asleep before I crept out and raided the kitchen for whatever sweets they’d hidden. Even though they told me to ‘make myself at home’, I couldn’t help but feel they’d get suspicious with me creeping around the house in the middle of the night. Yet curiously, rather than the still silence I expected, soft moans caught my attention, echoing from down the hall and around the corner.

I opened the door further, just enough to squeeze my skinny frame through, and crept along the edges of the wall, toward that unusual sound. Inch by inch, my feet carried me, silent as a cat, and the closer I got, the harder my heart pounded. Beating. Thrashing. So loudly that I swore it echoed off the high ceilings above me. But those moans. Those breaths of pure bliss. They called me forward and I couldn’t stop.

Finally, I reached the corner and peered around. A sliver of light streamed from the partially open door of the bedroom, and through that opening, I could now clearly hear the deep, masculine grunts and groans of John’s voice. The sound made my entire body tingle and my dick stiffen.

*I should go back to bed*, I thought. Or at the very least, I should’ve left. But I couldn’t. Instead, something inside screamed for my feet to move closer. Closer! I had to see what was going on. I wanted to see it. I knelt down on all fours and crawled nearer, quieting my breath with each step. Finally, from the base of the door, I saw them. John—fully naked and gleaming with a thin layer of sweat—mounted on top of Frannie, who lay on her back. She was sprawled out on the bed in such a way that the top of her head pointed toward the same wall as the door, offering me the perfect view of the John’s masculine body.

“Oh yeah. Yeah,” he whispered amid deep groans.

The soft lights and shadows emphasized every bend and curve of his muscled body, from the round forms of his arms, to the broad and hairy plateaus of his chest. Over and over, I watched as his hips undulated and thrust against her body, sending ripples across her skin with each swift jolt. I knew I shouldn’t have been watching. I knew that I’d probably get in trouble. But I couldn’t pull away. The thrill I felt, the fire that burned in my skin, the desire that welled inside my soul. It all screamed that I wanted to be where Frannie was. I wanted to be pressed underneath him. To be blessed by the endowment that grew between his legs, an endowment that I’d tried so hard to catch a glimpse of.

“Hiccup!”

I quickly cupped my mouth. Dammit! I’d lost track of my breathing and damn hiccup escaped. But still I sat. Frozen and still. Waiting and watching to see if either of them showed any signs that they had heard me. Yet they remained undisturbed. Or so I thought.

From the corner of his eye, John gazed at me. He knew I was here. It was possible that he’d known the whole time, yet he did nothing. A small grin grew across his face and he nestled his head down, next to Frannie’s, blocking any chance that she would see me. And then he turned and looked directly at me, right into my eyes. But still, he didn’t stop. Instead, he began thrusting harder, and faster, groaning and moaning, louder and louder, all the while staring into me and smiling.

“Fuck yes,” he said, still looking straight at me. “Give it to me.”

Over and over, he pushed and swayed. Pushed and swayed. His brow furrowed and sweating. His mouth open with excitement and raw passion.

“Fuck yes, I’m gonna cum,” he said. “Fuck yeah. Oh fuck.”

His eyes finally rolled back in a moment pure bliss as his hips made their last, harsh stroke against Frannie’s body. Then he fell on top of her. Pant after pant, he gulped for air amid the periodic spasms that jolted his torso. How his muscles strained and flexed. How he rubbed himself across her, as if to wipe off the sweat that dripped from his body. Damn, that was hot! So fucking hot. Again, he looked at me and with a sly, satisfied smile, made a motion with his head, saying that I should go back to my room.

I backed away from light, tip toed across the hall, and ducked into my room, where I promptly shut the door and jumped beneath the covers. Even against the hum of the heating vents, the beating of my heart sounded like a gong ringing over a valley. My face felt hot and flushed with guilt, but I loved every moment of it. Every part of me enjoyed every second of it, every sound of pleasure, every scent of skin and musk. Damn, how I wanted to be beneath all of that manliness.

Once again I lay there, in the dark. Except this time, my eyes focused only on the blank screen of the ceiling. That scene ran through my mind, like a video on a loop, and I smiled. I never told anyone this, but I had an uncanny ability to recall anything I saw and heard, with vivid clarity. And I could pull up any scene, any experience, from my memory and watch it to my heart’s content. This was definitely one I was going to remember. I stared into that darkness—only seeing the images inside my head—until a shadow of sleep crept over my eyes, and I finally dozed off.

Yet sleep was short lived. I awoke to the sound of my bedroom door opening. I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep for, but the darkness outside my window told me that morning was still a ways away. Through the faint light and my groggy eyes, I recognized John’s muscled silhouette standing in my door way, yet his breathing was loud and deep, as if agitated. Or excited.

“Josh, you awake?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” I said.

He closed the door behind him, plunging the room back into darkness, but the shuffle of his steps whispered his intent as he moved from the door to my bedside. My mattress creaked with the weight of his body and the heat that had been trapped beneath my blankets escaped as he crawled into them.

“You saw Frannie and I, didn’t you?” he said, laying on top of me.

It felt amazing! But I didn’t say anything. And again my body shivered.

“It’s ok that you saw us,” he continued. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes.” That answer escaped my lips faster than I realized. But it was nothing compared to the real truth I wanted to tell him. The truth I hoped he’d come to fulfill.

He cradled me into his massive arms and pressed me against the mountains and valleys of his chest. My palms found themselves planted upon patches of muscle and hair, and no matter where they traveled, they felt only bare skin. He was naked! Completely naked!

The chill that had taken over me when he first arrived melted against the warmth of his body, and the heat of his breath filled my lungs.

“You won’t tell Frannie about this right?” he whispered. “This is just our secret.”

“Ok,” I said.

A strong hand caressed my chest and began to unbutton my pajamas. From my neck to my stomach, the bindings came undone, and with each button came quicker breaths and louder heart beats. I felt every pound against his chest, every rise and fall of his lungs, and against my groin, I felt that steady growth of his manhood reaching out to me.

He stripped off my shirt, one sleeve at a time, and placed his palm against my stomach.

“Our secret, ok?” he whispered again, this time close, against my ear. My left earlobe plunged into a soft and firm warmth—his mouth—as his hand glided down my pants and gripped my hardened cock and balls in his palms.

“Our secret, ok?” he said again.

“Ok,” I responded.

“You’ve always wanted a daddy, right? Can I be your daddy?”

“Y-yes.”

“Say it,” he said, caressing and squeezing my dick in his hands. “Say, ‘yes daddy’.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good. Now, do you want daddy to show you how he does it with Frannie?”

“Yes. Yes daddy”

His rough hands pulled off my pajama pants and turned me over onto my stomach. “When you feel daddy inside of you, be sure to push against it like you’re taking a shit, ok?”

“Ok.”

A warm and slimy liquid dripped between my butt cheeks, and crawled into my butt with the guidance of a few rough fingers.

“Remember to breathe,” said John. “And stay quiet, Ok?”

“Ok.”

The soft, fleshy tip of this cock brushed against by butthole, which sent tingles spiraling through me. I moaned.

Slowly, he pushed. “Breath deep.”

I took in a breath and exhaled. Took in a breath and exhaled. And he pushed harder.

“Push against it, Josh,” he said. “You can do it.”

I pushed out and breathed. Pushed out and breathed. And bit by bit, his cock went in. I felt it. Up my back. Into my stomach. The intensity of its heat. The throbbing of blood that coursed inside of it. Inside of me. I whimpered. Oh man, it hurt. It hurt so good.

“Shhh,” he said, as his hand reached around and covered my mouth.

Further his cock went in. Further until it finally pushed up against something in my body, something that made my entire body go limp, as if it had unlocked a gate of pure ecstasy. I groaned beneath the weight of his muscles and strength.

“There you go,” he said.

Over and over, his hairy body slid across my back and pelted my butt, accompanied by those same, deep moans I’d heard earlier. How they rumbled against me. Every one of his breaths burning against my neck with rage, lust, and desire. This was everything that I had hoped for. Everything that I wanted.

That sensation of his cock sliding in and out of me, every hot and throbbing inch, every strong push of his waist against my back. I made me feel so alive. I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted more. More.

“Harder,” I mumbled.

“You feel so good,” he whispered. “You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you whenever Frannie’s not home. You want that don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You love daddy’s thick cock inside you, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” I whimpered.

His hand uncapped my mouth and he wrapped his arm beneath my neck, giving me just enough room to breathe, and then he squeezed. Every single one of his muscles contracted against my back and they felt like rocks lined with soft, velvet fabric. The contraction of his strength was pushing the air out of my lungs—nearly choking me—but I loved it. I felt so close to him. So close. Like he was pressing me into himself. Devouring me. He was so strong, so manly.

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

He slid across my back. His hands stroked my cock, building up tension. In my groin. In my balls. I felt it. Boiling up. Boiling over. About to shoot.

“I’m gonna cum.” My cock exploded, spewing warm liquid into John’s palms.

Fuck, that felt good. So good. Like I was drinking a glass of water for the very first time after crawling through a desert.

“Good boy,” said John. “Now it’s daddy’s turn.”

The thrusting of his hips quickened, just like before. Over and over. The pain! The pleasure! His teeth clamped down on my shoulder and his grip on my cocked tightened. Like he was going to rip it right off.

“Fuck yeah,” he moaned. “Fuck yeah. Fuck.”

Again and again, he drilled into me. Harder and harder.

“Feed me, daddy,” I whispered.

Then finally, it came. The warm liquid of blessing, spitting out inside of me, filling every part of me with the soul of the man I had desired from the first time I laid eyes on him. Thrust after thrust, spasm after spasm, he emptied himself into me, poured himself into me, until his body collapsed. His weight nearly crushing me.

My hands tingled with life and excitement. My mind raced as the faces I saw before, the faces I saw when I closed my eyes, blurred and vanished. And all I saw, was John. Behind my eyes, I saw John. And I finally remembered what those faces meant.

We laid there for several minutes, panting and breathing, trying to catch our breaths and slow down our heartbeats. But in truth, I was waiting. Waiting for a sign. One that said I now owned him.

*What have I done?* His voice spoke inside my mind.

That was it!

His voice. In my mind. I felt him inside of me. The thrill, the guilt, the regret, and the desire for more. Everything he felt, I also felt. All of his thoughts, I heard, as if they were my own.

*I remember now.* *I’m not human*.

This little body I inhabited wasn’t my original form. It was just a vessel I’d settled into so many years ago, a shell to hide in, because my old body had died. It had been killed. But how? Those memories, I’d lost unfortunately.

The long years of hibernation had taken its toll, nearly making me forget myself, but after taking my first drink, I knew what I wanted and needed to do. Call it an instinct to survive. To feed. And I loved feeding.

“Daddy,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“I want to do this again tomorrow.”

“We can’t do it too often,” said John, as a slight hint of guilt washed over him, “or Frannie will find out.”

I squirmed underneath him and flipped myself around, so that I was now looking into his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes, though the room still sat in darkness. I placed my hands against his scruffy and square jaw and pulled his face up to mine.

“We’ll do it as frequently as I fucking want,” I said.

At first, his thoughts jumbled into a haze. Of confusion. Of fear. Like a blizzard of emotions that had suddenly erupted. But slowly, bit by bit, they settled into the places I wanted them to settle into. I was the one who was in control of his thoughts and emotions now. I was the master of his will.

“OK, Josh,” he finally responded. “As frequently as you’d like.” The folds of his cheeks stretched with a smile, he pressed his lips against mine, and kissed me.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/9th7tq/soul_binder_prologue_gay_mm_horror