by neko (猫)
There was an old house at the end of Shiro’s street—Victorian, his architect brother would have pointed out. With a sunken porch, boarded windows, peeling paint, and shingles littering the overgrown lawn, it was a poor sight. Lonely. It seemed a shame that such a place had gone to decay.
Every day, Shiro walked by the house on his way home from the subway, staring at it as he passed. And every day, his feet would war with his brain, trying to turn him toward the house. But his brain would always win; only his eyes would betray it, remaining fixed on the place until turning a corner hid it from view. Only a shiver along his spine and itches on his scalp would remain.
There was something about the house. Something that drew Shiro, urged him to enter the yard, risk the rotting boards. Something that both attracted and repelled him. Logic warned him away… but desire urged him forward.
It was raining the day Shiro finally gave in to temptation. Months of curiosity had taken their toll, and before his brain could protest, his feet were leading him across the street and into the overgrown yard. He could stay here until it stopped raining, he reasoned. No harm in that.
His shoes crunched against the gravel path before drawing creaks out of the sunken veranda. A hazard, really, but he was too drawn to the house to stop now. Just until the rain stopped.
The thick door groaned ominously as he pushed it open, meagre light spilling into the yawning foyer. Dust scattered and fell like dirty snow on the dull wood floor. As the door swung shut behind him, Shiro paused a moment, studying the inside of the old house. Gaping doorways invited him to dim rooms beyond, but his body moved toward the wide staircase in front of him. As he climbed, avoiding the dust-laden railing, he peered up at the chandelier above. Polished and working, it would be quite the sight. As it was now, he was surprised it didn’t come crashing down on him.
Upstairs was much the same as down: impressive, yet clouded with particles of dirt and lined with doors just begging to be opened. However, Shiro once again passed these, instead heading to the end of the hall where a narrow, plain door stood alone in the wall. Like the front door, it opened surprisingly easily; almost inviting.
Another staircase waited, dark and steep. Each filthy step remained untouched, reminding Shiro just how alone he was in this house. And for the first time, he hesitated. Did he really need to climb to the top, risk falling through a rotted board or losing his footing in the dark? There was plenty else in the house to see.
A clap of thunder rumbled through the house, the distant tinkle of crystal echoing along the hallway. He was being a coward. He had come inside this place to explore, so that was exactly what he was going to do.
Taking a deep breath, he began his ascent, each step creaking under his feet. Squinting helped little, but he used his hand as guides in the dark. His trepidation grew the higher he went.
It became lighter near the top, signalling the end of the staircase. It was little surprise when he found himself in a large, gloomy attic. A flash of lightning briefly brightened the room, before casting it into grey once again. But it was long enough for Shiro to see the large and rusted cage in the corner near the wide window. Rain splattered the glass.
Once again, he hesitated. What was there to see in an attic? Just storage for junk, really.
Pushing the hair out of his face, he turned to go… then stopped. What…?
Slow steps brought him to the cage, the structure large enough for a grown man. And in the cage was…
Confused, Shiro knelt in front of it, glasses sliding down his nose. The light from the window was pale, but enough to make out some details. The doll was about his size, body thin with visible joints. It sat awkwardly splayed in the corner, head tilted to the side. A wide grin split its androgynous face.
Shiro shivered, avoiding the blank eyes. He had never liked dolls. But one question begged to be answered… why was it in a locked cage?
Ink-stained hands wrapped around the rusty bars as Shiro leaned closer, eyes tracing the loose trousers, white shirt, and black high-collared vest clothing the doll. It was pretty, he would admit. But that smile was unnerving.
Skin crawling, he stood up. It was just a doll. The rain was still falling and there were other things to see in the abandoned house.
Steps faster than before, Shiro headed back for the stairs peeking out of the wall.
He didn’t make it that far.
Next to the stairs was a small hook… and on that hook hung a key.
Shiro stared at it, breath rippling the cobwebs clinging to the heavy metal. Slowly, he reached his hand out, brushing them aside with his fingers. The key was cool against his skin.
It wasn’t difficult to figure out what it unlocked. But as he walked back to the cage, he once against questioned why it was locked in the first place.
The key only took a bit of effort to slide into the heavy padlock holding the barred door shut. With a sharp squeal, the key turned, a heavy clunk signalling the opening of the padlock. Shiro unhooked it, setting it on the floor and stepping back. The door swung open, emitting a low groan. Dust flew and settled.
Shiro let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, stiffness leaving his body. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.
It was just a doll.
Standing up, Shiro squinted against the bright flash of lightning, cringing at the quickly following thunder. That was enough of the attic.
His steps faltered.
Slowly, he looked over his shoulder. The rustle of clothing not his own seemed to echo in the quiet attic.
The doll stood outside its cage, arms dangling at its side and head tilted to the side. Its grin seemed wider, dark eyes glittering in the grey light.
Shiro stumbled back, shock bleeding the colour from his face. “Wh-what?”
The doll stepped forward, joints clicking. “What’s wrong, master?”
Gulping, Shiro kept moving back. “Y-you’re a doll… you can’t… this is impossible!”
The doll’s grin widened, sharp teeth glistening. “My name’s Crow. You freed me.” Shiro suddenly found himself pinned to the wall, glasses askew. He hadn’t even seen the doll move.
Crow pressed closer, making his breath hitch in fear.
“You freed me,” it—no, he—repeated, dark eyes holding Shiro’s. “You’re my master now.”
Shiro tried to answer, but the words remained trapped in his frozen throat. This was too surreal and his brain just couldn’t seem to catch up. It became worse when his mouth was suddenly attacked, fingers prying it open and a tongue slipping in to press against his own. Startled, Shiro whipped his head to the side, hissing when sharp teeth cut into his lip. A drop of blood hit the floor.
“What are you?!” he demanded, shoving Crow back with his free hand. The doll caught it, pinning it to the wall next to Shiro’s head. Without replying, Crow caught Shiro’s bleeding lip between his teeth, sucking sharply. Shiro made a pained sound, scared to move his head away, in case Crow decided to bite him again.
“You taste good, master,” he murmured, moving to Shiro’s neck. His teeth sunk in, making Shiro cry out in pain. More blood dripped to the floor.
“Get away from me!” he yelled, fighting against Crow’s hold. His heart was pounding, wounds throbbing. This was all so wrong… this couldn’t be happening.
“Don’t be scared,” the doll murmured. The clicking came again as he moved his arm, stretching his long, thin fingers. His nails were sharp. Claws.
Shiro whimpered without realising it. How could he not be scared?!
Then the claws were descending. Shiro jolted back, eyes squeezed shut as he waited to be gutted… but while the tearing of fabric filled the air around them, the ripping of skin did not. Shocked, Shiro’s eyes flew open, staring into Crow’s face. He stared back, still grinning widely.
And then Shiro was on the floor, his pants going the way of his recently destroyed shirt. He was close to hyperventilating now, and was half-convinced this was all actually a dream. Perhaps his studying had finally gotten to him.
Crow’s cold lips slid down his throat, sharp teeth nipping as they went before finally settling on one of Shiro’s nipples. His breath hitched as Crow sucked on the nub, flicking it with his tongue and carefully tugging it between his teeth. Skin heating, Shiro panted softly, allowing his eyes to slide shut. If this were a dream, then he might as well try to enjoy it.
Rather than a pinch to wake him up, it was a piercing pain as Crow’s teeth suddenly sunk through his skin.
Back arching off the floor, his hands flew up to shove, beat Crow away. His mind was a white haze, the pain blurring his vision. He didn’t like pain and he’d never wanted a nipple piercing.
When Crow sat up, his lips were painted with blood. His tongue flicked out to clean them, cheeks flushed. “You’re so sweet.”
And before Shiro’s addled brain could process his next move, Crow was slithering lower, claws digging into Shiro’s hips as he held him down. Air gasping in and out of his lungs, Shiro squirmed, trying to back away. This wasn’t a dream. No matter how hard he tried to believe it was, he couldn’t pretend the pain wasn’t real.
His panic grew when Crow opened his mouth, teeth glinting, and lowered his head to Shiro’s groin.
“Stop!” he yelled, voice strangled. He grabbed Crow’s shoulders, intending to throw him off, but the doll once again proved too strong.
Ignoring his plea, Crow wrapped his bloodstained lips around Shiro’s reluctant and half-grown erection, sinking lower. He appeared to have no gag reflex, his shining silver hair brushing Shiro’s thighs as he swallowed him all the way down.
Shiro groaned, head falling back against the hard, dusty floor. His pain was dulled by the growing pleasure between his legs, which slowly spread to accommodate the bloodthirsty doll. Hooded eyes watched Crow’s head bob up and down, his cheeks hollowing every time he pulled back. One of Crow’s hands slowly slid up to Shiro’s stomach to hold him down, while the other slipped between his legs, massaging the soft skin. Shiro moaned, long and low. The fear still lingered, but he couldn’t bring himself to fight Crow off now.
He jumped when a finger slid between his cheeks and probed. He instantly squeezed his legs shut, wide eyes fixed on Crow’s face. When the doll looked up, he flinched, expecting retaliation. Instead, Crows smirked, pulling away from Shiro’s erection and sliding his fingers into his mouth. When they came out, they were glistening.
Shiro choked on a gasp when Crow’s other hand suddenly clamped onto his thigh, forcing his leg to the side. Exposed.
As Crow’s fingers moved back between his legs, Shiro once again tried to close them. One warning nip to his thigh was all it took to keep them open, Crow’s mouth returning to his cock. This time, Shiro was tense… something the doll did not appreciate. The probing finger was more demanding this time, painful. Teeth clenched, Shiro forced himself to relax. The pain was only marginally less, but the digit went in. And then…
Shiro cried out, bucking into Crow’s mouth as he found his prostate. The doll easily took it, simply sucking harder. With the combination of his finger and his mouth, Shiro didn’t think he would last long.
Pulling back, Crow tongued the slit of Shiro’s cock, before teasing the spot beneath the head. Shiro hissed, sliding his fingers into Crow’s hair, surprised at how soft it was. Silky.
A second finger slowly joined the first, the grimace on Shiro’s face disappearing when they both rubbed the sensitive spot inside. Crow continued rubbing as he swallowed Shiro down once again with a soft moan, the vibrations making him squirm. His breathing was faster, shallower, blood thrumming through his veins and leaking from his wounds. Crow was pushing and pushing him, forcing him closer…
He slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling the groan as he came, fingers tightening in Crow’s hair. The doll didn’t stop sucking, swallowing everything that spurted out. Shiro finally went limp, soft pants puffing between his parted lips. He barely noticed as Crow crawled up his body, straddling his hips and leaning in. Exhausted, Shiro peered up at him over his cloudy glasses, dark hair plastered to his damp forehead. The doll was still wearing his wide, sharp grin… but it seemed less threatening than before. And when he leaned in, Shiro didn’t try to stop the kiss that touched his abused lips. Instead, he slid a hand around the back of Crow’s neck, pulling him closer.
Outside, the rain continued to fall.
Thanks to Andy for the beta!