Onus 02

He touched one of the piercings. The older one. The oldest one. The very first set of rings that he had given me. Two small silver rings in my perineum. They didn't hurt anymore. My body had accepted them. Back then, the ordinary man had carefully cleaned them every day, and given me ointment.

He touched the navel piercing, a tiny silver heart dangling from a chain from my navel. I moaned. He touched the dydoe piercings on my penis, I fell back in a near swoon. He left the piercings alone, frowning, while I wept in a crumpled little heap on my back.

I suddenly felt the bitterly stinging cold of a wet wipe. He was gently wiping my piercings with a disinfectant cloth. Being as careful as he could with my swollen infected piercings. It still hurt. I bit down on my wrist to muffle a weak scream.

"This is going to be the last time I see you, honey. My friend is gonna sell you off. I'd love to buy you, but I can't keep you. Not with the wife around."

He touched the side of my face. His hand was cool against my feverish skin. I nuzzled into it. He had inflicted the horrible pain and misery of my swollen genitals. But he was so gentle with me. So gentle where his friend was so cruel.

Who would want me? Who would want to buy me after those pictures he had taken of me. A hollow-eyed fetish of an Onus, cringing behind cage bars. He hadn't tried to hide the abuse. He had taken pictures of me, bruises and infected piercings and jutting ribs and all.

The only people who would want me would be people just as cruel. Or worse.

My eyes always seeped tears. Even when I slept. But now I made soft choking sounds in the back of my throat.

"No..." I whimpered. The only word I could ever bring myself to say.

He finished wiping. The wipe was pink and yellow. It had started out as white.

"I'm going to give you these wipes when you leave. That way, you can keep those clean. You don't want to get sick."

He put the wipes on my mattress. He touched my face. I kissed his hand. I nuzzled into it. He was the closest thing to a friend that I had ever had.

"Get on your stomach. I'll go nice and slow."

I crawled onto the soft mattress. I carefully rested my body onto the mattress, so I wouldn't pull on the tiny barbels in my nipples, or the chain in my navel, or any of the horrible piercings on my testes. The two dydoes were the only piercings in my penis. I whimpered when one of them tugged slightly on the fabric.

I spread my legs for him, rested the side of my face on the soft mattress so I could look back up at him with one glassy eye. He was taking off his shirt. His body was soft and sagging and covered in hair. He had nipple piercings himself.

He got up and pulled down his pants. His cock was erect, a bright pink point, swaying as he stepped out of his jeans. He had a thick prince albert ring. I cringed a little.

He spread the lube thick on his pierced cock.

Then he knelt over me, blocking the light from my sensory patches. He went in slow. I moaned through my nose.

"That's it... There we go..." He panted.

He fucked me. His ring hurt. It hurt my battered insides. The ordinary man had always been careful to stop short of tearing me wide open. He was afraid of injuring me too badly. There were no doctors that would treat me.

I moved my face, and pressed it into the mattress. It was soft. And it muffled everything out. It was hard to breathe. I focused on pressing harder, cutting off my air.

When I couldn't breathe, it hurt less. I felt things getting fuzzy and warm.

When he was finished, he took a paper towel from his pocket and got it wet. He wiped my loose sloppy asshole.

Gently.

---

I was in the cage for a while longer. When the ordinary man came down with a trench-coat and handcuffs, I thought that it was another game. I had forgotten about the pictures.

Then he forced me to put on the trench-coat. It was warm and silky and secondhand. It fell nearly to my ankles, it had been made for a much larger man. He buttoned it in the front for me. I was leaning against the wall. My legs felt weak. My feet hurt.

He was so close to me. I was crying silently. He got angry at me when I was too loud. I was shaking while he touched me. He wasn't hurting me. That just made me so afraid and sick. I kept expecting every movement of his big ringed hands to lash out at me. To turn from a careless touch to a vicious hold. I cried silently because I was terrified.

"Come on, Onus. New home."

'You're going to a new home, beastie.' The words were different, but the meaning was the same. I was being moved on.

He put his hand on my shoulder. He led me out of the cage. He only ever dragged me out of the cage to tie me to the ceiling. But he led me to the door. The big steel door.

He opened it, and pushed me out in front of him.

The stairs made me dizzy, looking up their long length, and then beyond. Looking up into this brightly lit kitchen. So far away. I hadn't looked that far in so long. I whined with fear.

"Up, you numb cunt." He twisted the handcuffs. The metal bit into my wrists and I yelped, going to the steps.

It was so hard. I fell on my bruised knees twice. I hobbled up the stairs, whimpering with the pain from between my legs. From my feet.

The house seemed so big, so huge. I strained for a glimpse out of a window. It was cold. I had not been cold in so long. He was pushing me along, fast, faster.

Shoved into the garage, and snow was caked on the tires of a car. Not the car that I had come here in. That car had been red. This car was black.

I moaned when my feet touched the cold concrete floor. I moaned again when he opened the trunk and shoved me in. I was shaking from the pain between my legs. I had the flat package of wipes in my pocket. I was surrounded by softness. The blankets, and a hot water bottle. I felt deja vu in a wave.

The car started up. The thrum was soothing. I curled up around the hot water bottle. I reached between my legs, to see if my movement had made anything tear.

---

We drove for so long. The hot water bottle lost it's heat, but the trunk of the car was warm near the body of the car.

I rested my head on the spare tire.

I touched my tongue to the tire, tasting it. Tasting the cheap rubber and chemicals. I tasted my own skin.

I hadn't dared to taste a human being since my own mother, but it had been unavoidable when they wanted me to suck their cocks. The ordinary man didn't trust me without a ring gag. His friend had me suck his cock often.

Sucking a cock was soothing, compared to what else they had me do.

The car made a sharp turn. We had been making smooth turns, or going completely straight for so long. A sharp turn meant that we were nearly there.

Tears burned my eyes. I had no hope. Not a scrap of it. I was incapable of hope.

The car ground to a halt on a gravel road. I closed my eyes tight. I pleaded for it to just be a stop sign, or that he was waiting for a car. I didn't want this to be the end.

I was so afraid.

The car turned off, and I wiped at my eyes. I weakly moved, sat up. I didn't want him to drag me out. I didn't want to fall in the snow.

The trunk opened and every rational thought fled. It was so cold. Like a worm recoiling from a finger, or a snail from salt, I curled up tight in the tiny pocket of warm air in the back of the trunk, crying from how brutal the cold felt on my skin. I had been warm for so long.

He reached in and grabbed me by my hair. I fell on the snow, and scrambled to my knees, weeping. The snow burned like acid. Like fire.

I opened my eyes and saw a massive house. I could make out a room made of glass, a wide bay window, a corner of the building that was rounded like a tower. A roof that wasn't a gentle slope, but two large spires, one of the tower, and one of the rest off the house.

Icicles hung from the roof in a toothed fringe.

I closed my eyes and dragged my feet through the snow. It burned so bad that the skin of my feet had to be burning, had to be peeling off. The sensory patches at the top of my feet were raw with blinding pain.

I stepped up onto the concrete porch. He rung the doorbell. We were sheltered from the snow, and a little of the wind. My raw feet rested on a rough mat. I whimpered from the cold and tried to huddle tighter in the trench coat over my naked body.

My eyes were shut tight. It hurt to open them. The cold air stung them.

Through my lids, I could see the light as the door opened. I opened my eyes, and saw a man with only half of a face.

I took an unsteady step backwards, forgetting the step. I felt the sickening feeling of falling.

And a tremendous sensation of pain.

"This was a little late because I had no wifi over memorial day weekend. Apologies.

I recently got a new internship which is a massive time-and-energy sink, so I will be doing my best to write, but the third installment of Onus may take some time.

I will do my best to write in the evenings and on breaks.

I've been kind of touchy about this story, and I want to apologize for my behavior. But I will not apologize for the story.

Kisses and Spanks,

--Cruel*