BIA Ch. 88

“No matter how you look at it, stealing is way better. Reading and rereading the passage that described my eyes until sunset. Whatever it is, it’s less childish than carving the prayer from there onto your body, right?”

Isaiah didn’t answer. He was just trying to put on his pants quickly. But they weren’t quite dry yet, and to make matters worse, they were tight-fitting jeans, so it wasn’t as easy as he wanted it to be.

He finally managed to get his pants on and was putting on the t-shirt he’d left on the chair when Bran, who had been watching with his arms crossed, suddenly clicked his tongue and violently swept his hair back. Then, as if forced to, he said,

“Okay, cooperate with me.”

“I said I would.”

“Cooperate my way.”

Isaiah looked at him with a face that asked what he meant by that.

“Do as I tell you.”

Yeah, he figured these words would come out. If Bran hadn’t made that face after seeing the tattoo on his back, he might have reconsidered. But.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Isaiah picked up his jacket from the chair.

“I have no intention of going that far.”

“No, you will.”

Before he could ask what he meant, Bran grabbed his arm.

“What, why are you doing this?”

“Stay still.”

Bran roughly dragged Isaiah and forced him to lie face down on the table.

“Bran!”

Isaiah was startled and tried to get up. But he was immediately restrained by a brutal force.

“Bran, don’t!”

“Don’t what?”

“Anything!”

Isaiah struggled and shouted. But he couldn’t overcome the difference in physical strength. He couldn’t even move, even though he was only being held down by one arm.

“Bran!”

“Why are you resisting?”

Huh? Finally, Bran used his whole body to press down on him and whispered in his ear with a smiling voice.

“Isn’t offering one’s body a requirement for a pseudo-cult follower?”

Isaiah’s shoulders involuntarily twitched at the low voice that seemed like it would sink into the floor.

“Accept it gratefully.”

He heard the sound of a belt buckle being undone from behind him. Isaiah couldn’t believe it.

“You’re crazy…, don’t, seriously.”

He struggled to get free, but it was no use. His upper body was fixed on the table, and he could only push against the dirt floor with his feet.

“I won’t stop you if you’re thinking of wearing yourself out beforehand, though.”

Bran mocked Isaiah, who was struggling in place as if running on a treadmill, and unfastened the belt around his waist.

“Isn’t it boring? Just lying there like a corpse and taking it.”

The soft texture unique to natural leather touched his wrist. Isaiah was startled and shook it off. But it was no use.

“Behave.”

With a low warning, both his wrists were forced together with a sudden force. Before he could even scream from the pain of his shoulders twisting, the leather belt was wrapped around his wrists. Whether it had been put on with a knot already made or not, Bran only pulled on the strap, and the belt instantly tightened.

“Ugh…!”

The leather strap dug into his wrist at once. It felt like his blood wasn’t flowing already from how tightly it was tied.

“Looks like you like the tightness.”

Bran finally took his arm off of Isaiah’s upper body and said, as if satisfied.

“You’re crazy, tone it down…”

Before he could even finish his sentence, he felt Bran’s body heat behind him again. Isaiah swallowed hard, unconsciously, at the distinctly different ominous aura. He thought, this time his pants would come off, and closed his eyes tightly, but unexpectedly, his t-shirt was taken off first. No, to be exact, it was ripped off. And with a loud ripping sound, it was completely ruined.

“Hiss….”

He involuntarily cringed at the sudden chill, and in that instant, a flash went off behind him. Isaiah was startled and looked back.

“What are you doing?”

“You can see, can’t you?”

Even while answering, Bran didn’t stop taking pictures. Isaiah was dumbfounded and shouted.

“Are you a pervert?”

“Me?”

Bran finally put down his smartphone. And with the hand that had been holding the phone, he stroked Isaiah’s g3n!tals and smiled deeply.

“Or you?”

His waist jumped at the unexpected stimulation. He didn’t even have time to feel ashamed at being caught being er3ct. Isaiah had to tremble in Bran’s arms without even making a sound as the large hand grabbed and shook his genitals mercilessly.

“Tell me. Between the one who just took pictures and the one who got an er3ction while being photographed, who’s the bigger pervert?”

“N-no…”

“No? Then what’s this?”

“Haa, hah, haah…!”

The grip of the hand kneading his c0ck grew rougher. The violent hand movements, as if crushing his p3nis, were closer to punishment than s3xual pleasure. As if punishing an obvious lie, the unforgiving touch made his already swollen p3nis expand once more in Bran’s hand.

“Ah, so you’re saying it’s not because you were photographed that you got an er3ction?”

Bran asked, pretending not to know. Then, he suddenly yanked the strap of the belt that was tied around Isaiah’s wrist.

“Agh!”

“Then is it because of this?”

The thick leather strap tightened even more around his wrist.

“Huh? Do you like this more? Which is it? Bondage?”

“Huu, haa, huuuiss…”

“Or, is it just painful?”

“Agh!”

The leather strap tightened to its limit, and it felt like his wrist would break. The stiff edge of the belt scraped and dug into his skin. The dangerous sensation of dull pressure and sharp pain alternating made his vision flash. Isaiah writhed and screamed continuously. Each time, his c0ck leaked fluid as if it was incontinent.

“Looks like you like both.”

Bran came to his own conclusion after seeing Isaiah, who had leaked so much pr3cum that his pants were wet. He didn’t give Isaiah a chance to object and started kneading his p3nis over his clothes again.

“Well, at our age, being a pervert is better than doing childish things. Don’t you think?”

“Haa, hiss…, uuh…”

Sounds leaked out involuntarily at the rough touch. Each time his p3nis and scr0tum were roughly kneaded and rubbed in Bran’s large hand, pr3cum leaked.

“How is it? You’re already wet, should I just let you c*m like this?”

Bran said, as if noticing that he was close to climaxing.

“You fucking, bastard…”

Isaiah panted and cursed.

“Yeah, looks like you’re feeling good.”

Bran smiled and gripped his c0ck even tighter. Isaiah twisted his waist with his wrists tied behind him. The pressure doubled as his underwear stuck to his sticky c0ck. Each time he felt the rough texture of the fabric on his sensitive gl*ns, he couldn’t bear the feeling of his whole body burning.

“Tell me. Do you want to c*m like this? Your t-shirt is already ruined, should I take off your pants too? It’ll be easy to catch a cab. There will be a line of guys willing to take you without any extra charge. If you have a g*ngbang fetish, I’d recommend that.”

“You’re crazy, who…”

His words were as merciless as the hand that was kneading him. Where did that neat and kind model student who had spoken to him first at the orphanage go? Isaiah was furious with betrayal.

But unbelievably, the moment he heard those words, his lower abdomen twitched greatly. His whole body heated up, and he felt a stabbing sensation in his stomach. Feeling a near-org*smic pleasure, Isaiah trembled his waist while pinned under Bran.

He liked that his god, who was always sacred and noble, was now insulting and humiliating him with the most vulgar words and actions. It was a feeling he had never experienced when he had called out the name of a man he had just met to relieve his desire. The strange sense of accomplishment of being defiled by his god, and at the same time, the twisted sense of depravity that he was also defiling him, fueled his lust.

“So, Isaiah?”

Bran spoke gently. As if this was his last chance.

Isaiah took a deep breath and said in a trembling voice.

“Take them off…”

“Yeah. Good choice.”

The buckle was undone, and the zipper was lowered. As soon as he pulled down his pants and underwear together, his p3nis, which had been squashed in the narrow space, popped out. Bran gently touched the tip of his p3nis, which was swollen and dripping with liquid as if it would burst, and whispered.

“What else should I do?”

There was no more room to hesitate, nor was it necessary.

“Rub it hard.”

Isaiah said, panting. A large hand covered his p3nis. Bran’s palm was harder than he thought. Each time the calluses embedded here and there brushed against the surface of his glans, a scream escaped his lips involuntarily.

“Harder, harder.”

Isaiah pleaded in a hoarse voice.

“Harder…, squeeze it tight.”

“You really like pain.”

Smiling as if saying he couldn’t do anything about it, Bran willingly did as Isaiah wanted. Isaiah felt like he was going out of his mind from the intense stimulation repeatedly given at the doorstep of orgasm. The reason he didn’t beg to be entered wasn’t because of his pride, but because his thoughts didn’t reach that far. He only thought about wanting to be released right away.

“Ah, Bran……, please…….”

Of course, even though he didn’t say it, his waist was shaking like crazy. He strained his hips as if to tighten around a p3nis that wasn’t even inside him, then relaxed, doing everything he could. Without knowing why his insides were burning with thirst, he was restless, entrusting everything to the man’s touch. With both knees bent, he was almost hanging from the table, face down, babbling without knowing what he was saying.

“Get on top of me…….”

Crush me. Press me down. So hard I can’t breathe, tightly, firmly…… All sorts of words poured out of his mouth.

“That’s for next time.”

Next time……? Is he going to do this again…… with Bran?

Even in his daze, Isaiah felt his heart pounding loudly. He didn’t know if it was from joy or fear.

“Huk……!”

Right then, Bran’s hand gently stroked his p3rineum. A type of stimulation he hadn’t expected cut in on the pleasure that was teetering on the edge. In an instant, Isaiah convulsed and 3jaculated.

“Huk, huh…….”

The afterglow of his climax washed over him like a wave, quickly engulfing his whole body. Unable to move a single finger, he just lay face down on the table, panting, when something wet touched his lower back. Bran had wiped his own s3men on his hand. Isaiah realized this, unfortunately, after the flash went off.

“The picture came out well, didn’t it? Chester will like it a lot.”

Bran said, showing him his smartphone. The screen was filled with a shot of his back, face down on the table. In the dark, basement-like background, the henna tattoo visible through his torn t-shirt and the s3men sprayed on his waist looked like a scene from a pretty decent p0rn video. Of course, that s3men was his own, but who would know that just by looking at this picture? It just looked like he had been playing around roughly with someone. Of course, that wasn’t entirely wrong either.

“There’s no need to fuel his paranoia, is there?”

“…….”

“There’s only a week left. Let’s take it easy, both of us.”

Isaiah, speechless, just stared blankly, and Bran smiled as he untied the belt that was binding his wrist.

“I’ll take you to your apartment. Seeing you like that, not only taxi drivers, but all the ballsy bastards in the neighborhood will come running.”

Even after his wrist was free, Isaiah stared blankly at Bran for quite a while. His god, who was endlessly kind and benevolent, yet vulgar and vile.