THE BIRTH OF HUMANITY

By: J.C. Bruyere

PROEM

Evil Fantasies

(Words & Music by: Tipton, Downing & Halford)

We turn and face each other
My fingers pull your hair
You wince and jerk my wrist off
I bite my lip and stare
Your stance at once defiant
I'm rigid to your pose
You clench your teeth in anger
My loving swells and grows

You give me evil fantasies
I wanna get inside your mind
Come on and live my fantasies
I'll show you evil you can't hide

You're dragged into my vision
Trapped, serving to my need
Maybe imagination
Is where my dark side feeds
You slide your nails down in me
I raise my structure high
You pout, I snarl, you whimper
And wave compassion by

You give me evil fantasies
I wanna get inside your mind
Come on and live my fantasies
I'll show you evil you can't hide
~~~

So long ago. So much happened. Yet, if he looked hard enough, old memories would surface. Yeah, if he dug deep enough in his mind, he'd recall a Great City - the streets infested with junkies, hookers, drifters, drug dealers and other parasites who fed off the weak.

Why feed off the weak? The beautiful lad laying next to him with the slim arms wrapped about his waist, the delicate wrists secured in metal bondage and graceful, long fingers lightly touching his gut happened to be one of the weak.

Wez grunted. Even a hardened killer like himself couldn't rape and kill this delicate rose budding in the wasteland. This golden youth was the only remaining presence of beauty left on earth.

Actually, he was thankful they were alive. What possessed him to steer them over a cliff? Such beauty shouldn't die. His golden youth should be worshiped, cherished and adored - reciprocated gifts he bestowed on the lad for such utter obedience and loyalty.

"Master," came the soft, husky whisper.

He loved the Golden Youth's voice: sweet, breathtaking, a gentleman's pitch - not quite high but not quite low either. The gentle plea always warmed his insides and produced a soothing feeling that dispelled the animalistic instinct which guided him since he was but a lad himself. He thought about his own voice: a low growl followed by a grunt. And since he left school at the age of eight and lacked formal education, he tended to slaughter the English language with the slang he learned on the streets and in juvenile prison.

But as for the Golden Youth? A frown. The pretty lad rarely spoke. When he did hear his lover articulately conveying thoughts with hesitant gestures, a whispered word, the sapphire blue eyes vacant - always the Golden Youth could make him feel inferior. He loathed the lad's lack of emotion.  Hated the fact he had to goad passionate emotions to the surface by melding his lips with the youth's while exploring the sinewy body.

Is this why he sometimes slapped the Golden Youth? Is this where his frustration came from? Too good. His quiet lover was too good for the likes of him. Yet, did the Golden Youth believe this to be true? He doubted such a thought crossed the youth's mind. When the sapphire blue eyes did emanate any emotion, the gaze was filled with obedience, ready to perform whatever the master asked.

His own hunger, lack of self-control, the need to possess, the obsession - all those weaknesses arose thanks to the Golden Youth. His emotions were forever in a constant state of turmoil now. No longer did he just react. Instead, he found himself taking the time to see how his reaction would impact on his fair-haired lover. Every damn decision, each stupid thought, whatever he did - such self-doubt now, unable to let the animalistic instinct guide him. Now what lay in his heart took the reigns on this bumpy ride in life.

Did he regret abducting the Golden Youth when the lad had been only fifteen? No. This beautiful boy was the best thing that ever happened to him. He wondered how he managed for twenty-eight years before encountering the rose of the wasteland. Hmm, and now at the age of thirty-one, he watched this lovely boy grow into a young man of eighteen.

Wez released the slow breath, savoring the feel of the Golden Youth's delicate body spooning his. Hmm, he could feel the soft bulge, caught a whiff of the angelic fragrance and savored the sound of the light breaths filling his ear.

He wanted it all: the youth's body, spirit, mind, and heart. If it was humanly possible, he'd consume this tender, delicate beauty. It's why he loved having the Golden Youth urinate in his mouth. Yeah, he even had to feast upon the warm, wet liquid that flowed from the flaccid penis. Actually, every sexual act he performed on this pretty boy was met with an obedient nod of the head. He had used this delicate body nestled up beside him in every way possible during the three years they'd been together. He had explored every inch of the youth's flesh. He'd stuck his tongue up the tight hole, finger-fucked the pretty portal, sucked the seed from the kissable penis, scratched and smacked the tender flesh and bit at the sinewy muscles, drawing blood that he lovingly lapped up. Ah yes, he loved licking this beautiful angel’s graceful toes and fingers. He even made this delicate rose salivate into his mouth. And when he'd cum, he'd either bury his seed in the blond lad's buttocks, stick his big penis between the rose-colored lips or let his orgasm spray over the golden, silken, long hair.

Almost lost him. Never would he forget when the boomerang struck the rose of the wasteland. The devastation, the pain, the despair - while the life had been drained from this beautiful boy's body, his own life had left him too. When he thought the Golden Youth to be dead, his body had been stripped of its soul, his heart and spirit leaving with his lover since this androgynous angel was the keeper of all feelings he possessed. Rather appropriate since it had been his gentle lover who unearthed the humanity in his blackened soul. Only the Golden Youth could summon up feelings he thought nature forgot to gift him with. But those loving, tender emotions were present after all. It just took a rose of the desert to plant the seed in him so he'd blossom.

Wez craned his neck. So much thinking. Thanks to the Golden Youth, he started to think too much. Enough thinking. He wanted to look at his lover. He gazed into big, sapphire blue eyes that were framed with thick, long, black lashes and delicately arched, ebony brows. The lids blinked.

"Master? What are we to do?"

He grunted. Such worry and fright was in that voice. Always, this fair-skinned beauty needed his reassurance.

"Will be fine," Wez grunted. "Will be fine."

So the Golden Youth pressed his rose lips against his master's neck.

Wez smiled. It wasn’t that sneer, the animalistic grin when he attacked his victims. His smile was gentle.

Yeah, so long ago... just when did the change slowly happen? When did the Golden Youth unearth that speck of humanity in him?

Next Page - Chapter One