by Shinju Yuri (真珠百合)
illustrated by calintz
The author offers her apologies and notes that this makes at least as much sense as half the doujinshi she’s read.
Richard Mapleton did shoots with ball-jointed dolls, by preference; he said the dolls pretty much expressed everything he wanted to say about the state of current fashion and design. The dolls sat and posed with realistic backdrops or huge, dew-covered lilies or peonies or roses. Their knowing blank eyes stared at you from the photos, as if a little amused and sad. They used to say that he never wanted to work with a human model unless they were as perfect as the dolls.
He had one human model; a person with the clear precise features of an androgynous angel, who sometimes posed in yearning poses with the dolls, as if he — she — it was only a larger version of them. The model’s clear grey eyes stared into the camera. They were remote and lovely, like a mountain. Goth teenaged girls cut out the photo spreads and stared at them, telling the image all of their secrets.
In point of fact, Shin was very much a boy and the least angelic person Richard knew, but that was all right with him.
“Why won’t you sleep with me?” said Shin crossly.
“Because I don’t want to,” said Richard, kindly but firmly.
“You do too,” said Shin.
“I do not,” said Richard, which was actually sort of a lie, but admiting to Shin that you wanted to sleep with him was sort of like saying, Hello, vicious tiger! Would you like this hunk of meat I have tied to my chest? “And you’re a brat. Hold still.”
Shin subsided into outraged silence and held still. Richard was painting his face to look like a pale, unearthly creature, like something that would rise up out of the night and haunt someone in their dreams until they drained their life away. The lip color was thick and rather sticky, but if Shin tried to lick his lips Richard scowled at him. He had to hold his eyes wide open because of the mascara and the eyeliner, which felt like fifteen pounds of gunk glued directly to his eyelids. He thought about arguing but Richard knew what he was doing. “My hair itches,” he said.
“Touch it and die,” said Richard.
“But it feels all heavy and stiff!” whined Shin.
“Of course it does,” said Richard. His hands were very warm against Shin’s face. He painted one more line of color to Shin’s lips and released him. “There,” he said. He handed Shin A-ko and told him, “Look dead.”
Shin scowled as best as he could through what felt like an inch of makeup and made his careful way to the fainting couch. “I look like a high-speed collision between two lace trucks and a leather train,” he said.
“Less talking, more posing,” said Richard. “You’re dead.”
Shin slumped over the fainting couch, with A-ko leaning against him, and stared at the camera with empty eyes. Richard took pictures. Richard made him change costumes twice, and took more pictures. (The one Shin actually liked was the one where he wore a relatively restrained outfit with most of the makeup washed off and cooed at C-kun. Shin liked C-kun, except for the part where he knew for a fact that C-kun’s stand was in Richard’s bedroom, a place he only knew in his fevered dreams.) Finally Richard made him get into a voile shirt, very pintucked, and grey flannel pants, grunted thoughtfully, and dumped a pitcher of water over him. “Bleh,” said Shin.
“Shake your head,” ordered Richard. Shin obeyed. “Better,” said Richard. “Okay, sit on the ground and look seductive.”
Shin brightened. He sat down, legs spread apart, and thought about stripping down and letting Richard take pictures of him. Of Richard behind the camera, the lens watching him as he wrapped his hand around his own cock. Of —
“Oh, my God,” said Richard, somewhere between laughter and horror, “I said ‘seductive’, not ‘you can’t rape the willing’!”
Shin pouted, and that was when Richard got the best picture.
It took him half an hour to get the gunk out of his hair, but he finally managed to get the last of it out and toweled his hair down. He pulled his black t-shirt that said ONLY FOREVER: LIFE WITH YOU and hooked his belt through his jeans. He wandered out, his hair still in a towel.
“By the way,” said Richard, carelessly, “The designer wants you to go to the party tonight.”
“Oh, sure,” said Shin, even more carelessly. “Are you going to pick me up? Or meet me there?”
“I thought I could get you,” said Richard.
“Whatever,” said Shin, pulling his head from the towel and shaking his hair out. He picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Do I have to wear some sort of frilly crap or can I just wear something from my own damn closet?”
“Your own closet’s fine,” said Richard.
“Great,” said Shin, slouching toward the door. “See you tonight then. Call me or whatever.”
He ran all the way to the subway station.
The shop was so exclusive that they didn’t even show prices and barely even had racks of clothes. Shin marched in and caught the eye of a sales girl.
“May I help you, sir?” she said, drifting discreetly over.
“I have the biggest date of my life and if I don’t get laid tonight I’ll never get laid again,” Shin told the salesgirl, very seriously.
“You’ve come to the right place, sir,” she said. “What sort of date are we dressing you for?”
“Richard Mapleton,” said Shin.
“A gentleman like Mr Mapleton?” said the salesgirl. She turned to one of the racks and pulled out a fluffy white shirt with silver laces.
“No,” said Shin.
“No?” said the salesgirl.
“I mean,” said Shin. “My date is Richard Mapleton.”
Her eyes widened a little. “Perhaps sir would like to wait while I get the manager,” she said, in a very controlled voice.
“Sir would,” said Shin.
The party was boring and a lot of people stared at him, but Shin thought it was worth it for the look on Richard’s face when he opened the door and kind of floated out wearing a silvery silk shirt and the narrow black pants the manager of the shop had suggested. There was a velvet choker around his neck and he smelled faintly and deliciously of unknown spices and musk.
He was, in fact, looking hot and he knew it. Richard knew it too, which made it even better. They arrived at the party and heads turned so fast that Shin thought that some of them got whiplash. People crowded around them. It was nice for a while but the air was all smoky and Shin got a headache from the music. And Richard never danced. He mostly stood near the designer and let her purr at him. She tried to purr at Shin, too but he backed away. Like a little fawn, she said, laughing.
And then when he got away and went to the balcony for some air, some guy tried to hit on him and Richard had to hit the guy really hard.
“That really sucked,” said Shin, after they escaped. They were in Richard’s apartment.
“What did I tell you about going places alone at parties like that?” said Richard. He was really mad, for some reason. Shin scowled at him and crawled on the couch beside him. Richard was so upset he didn’t even try to push Shin off.
“It’s not my fault people are idiots,” he said. “And anyway, I could have hit him myself.”
“Nevertheless,” said Richard, “I hope you have learned your — God, what is that stuff you’re wearing?”
“What stuff?” said Shin crossly.
“That scent,” said Richard. “It smells like –”
Shin brightened. “Smells like?”
Richard sniffed Shin’s neck, which made Shin’s nerves tingle deliciously. “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s driving me crazy. You should go wash it off.”
“Are you allergic to it?” said Shin.
“Yes,” said Richard promptly. He pushed his head closer to Shin’s neck. “Very.”
“That’s too bad,” said Shin.
Richard lifted his head and gave him a look.
Shin was aware he was smiling like a cat with several canary feathers in his mouth. “I’m glad you like it,” he said. “It’s called Ganymede and it cost me a lot of money.”
“I hate it,” lied Richard. “Seriously, go wash that off, or else–”
“Or else?” said Shin, looking up through his lashes. “Are you going to ravish me? After all this time I’ve spent trying to avoid it? Oh help. Help, help.”
Richard growled. Possibly he was beyond speech. He tackled Shin and they fell onto the floor, but Richard broke Shin’s impact. He was not gentle with Shin’s shirt buttons, even as his hands stroked over the silky cotton, his thumb rubbing Shin’s nipples. Shin lifted one knee, trapping Richard between his legs. He made a pleased sound, deep in his throat, and stretched out luxuriously.
“Please don’t do that,” said Richard, between his teeth. “This is the worst idea you have ever had. Oh my God.”
Shin scowled at him. “Less talking, more ravishing,” he said firmly. “Do you want a written invitation? An order?”
“Some help in not nailing you to the floor would be nice,” said Richard. He shifted, as if to get up. Shin growled and hooked his legs around Richard’s waist.
“I don’t see a problem with that,” said Shin. He began to unbutton Richard’s shirt. “Why am I not surprised that you wear undershirts?”
“I do it to annoy you,” said Richard. He was trying to get away but not very hard. “I’m serious,” he said.
“So am I,” said Shin. He relaxed enough that Richard thought he could get away and tried to lift himself from Shin.
Richard said a bad word.
“Much better,” said Shin, kneeling on Richard. He settled himself more comfortably against Richard’s groin. His eyes half-closed and he hummed deep in his throat.
“Brat,” said Richard, in half-exasperated affection. “It would serve you right to get rug burns over every inch of your back.”
“Promise?” said Shin. He pushed Richard’s shirt up, petting the hard muscles of his chest and stomach, slipping his hands down to undo Richard’s belt and unfasten his pants. Richard made a low noise in his throat, not quite a hiss. His hands tightened on Shin’s hips, as if to push him off. Shin pushed Richard’s pants open and his underwear down (boxers. It figured) and wrapped his hand around his prize. He stroked Richard’s cock from base to tip. He didn’t realize he was licking his lips until Richard moaned at him. Then he did it again.
“I,” said Richard. “Oh God. That’s not a toy, you know. Fuck.”
“That’s the idea,” said Shin. He slid down and breathed deeply. Richard always smelled delicious, like something to eat up all at a gulp. His tongue flicked out. Richard made a strangled noise. Shin took another deep breath and sucked him down.
“Oh my God,” said Richard. “Oh my God. You little brat. I’m going to. Oh God.” His hands clenched in Shin’s shoulders. “I should. God, your mouth.”
Shin cupped Richard’s balls in his free hand. Richard moaned again, much louder, and Shin began to suck harder.
“Stop,” said Richard. “I’m going to. I mean it –”
Shin pressed his tongue against the vein in Richard’s cock and licked it. Richard hissed, shuddered, and his back went tight, arching up.
Shin swallowed and licked his lips. He felt particularly feline and satisfied with himself.
“Stop that,” said Richard crossly.
“Don’t want to,” said Shin. There was sweat beading along Richard’s stomach and chest and Shin licked it off, taking his time about it. “Not going to.”
“I think I’ve been tricked,” said Richard. His voice was slow and deep. His hand slid to Shin’s chest and he fingered one of Shin’s nipples. It hardened and Shin shivered.
“No,” he said, wondering if he could just tread like a cat and purr at Richard for a while. “Not tricked. Tripped.”
Richard’s eyes focused. “Either way,” he said.
“Whatever,” said Shin agreeably. “How long until you get it back up again? Because if it’s going to be a while I want to come all over you so when you’re talking to someone I can think, ‘but you’ve never seen him with semen splattered all over his chest like a porn star’ and think about it when I’m bored and send you dirty text messages, okay?”
“Shut up,” said Richard. With an obvious effort he got up and pulled Shin after him. “Brat,” he added.
“Where are we going?” asked Shin. It wasn’t like he cared.
“We’re going to play a little game,” said Richard grimly. He pushed Shin into the bedroom and stripped him efficiently. He turned to his dresser and dug out two of his boring neckties. “It’s called ‘Paybacks Are Hell’.”
“I like this game,” said Shin.
“You won’t,” said Richard ominously. He picked up a sleeping mask.
“Hey,” said Shin, as Richard put it on him, adjusting it so Shin couldn’t see anything.
“Behave,” said Richard. He guided Shin to the bed. The lack of sight made him hyperaware of his other senses. The gentle touch of Richard’s long fingers on his back made him break out in goose bumps.
“I can behave without the mask,” said Shin.
“Ha,” said Richard. He kissed Shin. It was long and sweet, and Shin felt like he was about to melt into goo — well, he thought, as Richard’s leg slid between his thighs and brushed against his cock, almost goo. Richard pushed him down on the bed and pulled his arms up. He looped the soft silk neckties around Shin’s wrists and tied them to the bedposts.
“Is that why you have a four poster,” said Shin, who was just babbling by this point. He wanted Richard so bad he could taste it. Richard didn’t dignify this with an answer anyway, possibly because he was licking a long, slow strip of fire down Shin’s chest. Shin realized suddenly that really Richard was being mean. Again. He wanted to see this. He wanted to watch Richard kiss him and touch his body.
“You’re horrible,” he said.
“Mm-hmm,” said Richard smugly. He licked the edge of Shin’s hipbone, and then trailed his tongue around Shin’s navel. “This was the best idea you ever had,” he added.
“What was?” gasped Shin. He wondered if just begging for it now would make a difference.
“See,” said Richard. One of his hands left Shin’s body. Shin would have objected but he heard the sound of rummaging and a thrill went down his spine. “I’ve already come. I can drive you crazy for hours now.”
“You wouldn’t,” said Shin wildly. “You wouldn’t be that mean.”
“Excuse me,” said Richard. He slid his hand slowly up and Shin moaned. “Who just spent the entire night looking like a call boy at me?”
Shin tried to think of something clever to say but Richard’s long fingers were gliding around his entrance and he was mostly busy trying to breathe. “Oh God,” he said. Richard was being maddeningly slow. Shin arched up into him, trying to get more friction, more anything, but Richard would not be hurried. Shin made a thin, impatient noise deep in his throat.
Richard kissed him, deeply, their tongues entwining, only to release and meet again. Shin bucked against his hand frantically. “Please,” he said into Richard’s mouth. “Please, I want you so bad–”
Richard nuzzled the side of his mouth and pulled his hand away. Shin whined at the loss but in the next minute Richard was sliding himself into Shin, and Shin almost came right there. The neckties weren’t tied very well, or something, because he got loose and clawed at Richard’s back. “Do it,” he said.
“Pushy,” said Richard.
Shin arched up against Richard and moaned again. Richard thrust deep, and Shin saw stars. He was breathing heavily, concentrating so hard on Richard and the way he was growling low words of encouragement in Shin’s ear that it was almost a surprise when he came.
Richard never did stop photographing dolls, but he never stopped photographing Shin, either.