To Keep Going On

77

He never truly believed to give Ming equal footing in the friendship. He was always superior to Ming because Ming was a servant.

He wasn't there when Wayo first started to follow the big, handsome dream named Phana in the middle school but he was there in the high school when Wayo's little crush on the handsome guy turned into complete devotion. And his relationship with Ming also started to change. Ming stopped looking at him the way he used to look at him. He stopped hanging on to him all the time. Yet he was the one who helped turn his infatuation into obsession. He aided it.

And then he was there when Pha rejected him.

He was heartbroken. At that time, he didn't even know, he didn't even care Ming was just as heartbroken as him. He had his own heartbreak to cry over! But where he was crying over his pain, Ming was in anger. And he took that anger out on him.

Yes, he initiated it. Yes, he did. He was a child, drunk out of his wit for the first time in his life, heartbroken and feeling like shit!

(A/n: sure, you're still an innocent baby🙄)

And Ming had agreed with him over and over again that he was an average looking, crappy guy, Phana won't look at him. And so he gave himself up to Ming. And Ming took it with pleasure. He used him all for his pleasure. Yes, he was the one who was horrified at first and then went back for more. But Ming was more than willing. He was more than willing to prepare him. To turn him into a pro. Better than that Beam who Ming had heard telling his P'Pha how much he loved him.

He could love P'Pha better than that bitch?!

Ming taught him well. He used him well. He remembered all those nights his dad was not home and Ming was with him, in his room, in each and every corner of his room, in the bath, even at times when they managed to shoo the house help away, in the kitchen, in dad's study, in the school locker rooms, at times him, bent over a table or on the floor, on all fours, pounded mercilessly from behind, or at times bound to the bed, writhing and begging while Ming seated by the foot of the bed, assaulting him over and over with his tongue or him being shoved down on his knees whenever Ming wanted a release and had his dick shoved in his mouth. Ming had taught him everything quite well, whenever he wanted, whatever he wanted.

And when he was not being as freely obliging as the first intoxicated night, he started getting him drunk till he lost all his senses and gave in to all of Ming's whims and kinks. And Ming tested it all on him. He knows it now how stupid he was. He was happily letting the guy violate him. Happily.

He was happily playing in Ming's hands and his dad gave them the opportunity to freely do whatever they wanted when he sent them both away to states. Ming kept on grooming him and he loved the changes in himself. He felt pretty. And they kept fucking whatever way Ming wanted, clubbing and drinking and Ming teaching him how to make impression on guys, to seduce them with his shyness, his innocence and his beauty and his tricks till they lost their minds, getting drunk and dancing away all night long with different boys, every time. And soon he was sniffing drugs. Then he was doing things he could not even imagine, without even knowing, without even realizing, he was becoming a whore.

He was always so high, he did not even know most of the times the things he did. What Ming let him do. What Ming did to him. And when he wasn't, he was horrified and disgusted by himself. He blamed Ming. He cursed him. He tried and failed to hit him. And when it got to much, he got drunk or high again and let Ming use him again. Again. And again.

Men would call him pretty and sexy. They couldn't have enough of him. They praised him for his beauty. They were so smitten. They wanted him more.

Ming would find new toys and throw him aside to play with them. But when he got together with someone without Ming knowing, he'd go berserk. Apparently, he was his whore to let people use the way he wanted them to use. Ming didn't say that at that time, but now, after years, he knew. That was all it was about. He had belonged to Ming ever since the first night he slept with him.