This chapter contains strong language, sexual content and pedophilia, and explicit scenes of gore and violence.
Read at your own risk!
Satyriasis:
Satyriasis: A neurotic condition where a male exhibits a markedly increased sexual desire that surpasses that of other males.
If one frequently indulges these sexual urges, the compulsion can increase in intensity, resulting in more reckless and dangerous behaviors.
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3rd Person POV
Everyone thinks the 9-year old Lucas is perfect.
His parents are both succesful doctors and they live in the street where the wealthy stays. They live in a house so big they technically need a phone call to get others down for dinner.
No wonder everyone envy him. Some are even angry how destiny plays because the wealthy, spoiled boy wears one of the most beautiful faces.
He's beautiful!
As much as people are in fury to that fact, there are more who love him.
How can they not? When the boy is young, innocent, very curious, and he believes everything the adult says. A good kid, as they say.
However, Lucas thinks he's not a good kid at all. He was just smiling and following the adults because he wants attention. He just wants his parents to look at him, to hold him so lovingly, to pat his back till he falls asleep while they sing him a lullaby. But they're doctors, they help others but never to him.
The ceramic floor is as sparkly as ever, it mirrors the chandelier that brightens the hall with its warm bulbs and real diamonds. The grand staircase is the same, the wooden handrail has unique patterns that swirls to highlight the red carpet draped on the stairs, which trails all the way up to the large family portrait.
Its not a good photo, he thought.
His mother is wearing an unnaturally large pearl necklace that it almost covered her shoulders, and a large diamond hoops for earings never suited her. The woman has money but never a sense of fashion.
Then his father, with that wide smile and perfect teeth....
Lucas is brimming with hostility. He wanted to wipe that smile away. The man is too kind, too loving, too genuine, and the boy hated that. His mother never needed an excuse, she would directly say that she's needed more in the hospital. However his father would utter lame stories about heros and saving people, and that someday, the boy will grow like him.
Bullshit!
I''ll never be like him.
Lucas kicks the door open. Today is his birthday, and early this morning his father gently woke him up and whispered about the gifts already in the playroom. As usual, it was accompanied with sorry's which never helps the situation.
When the door opened, a surge of coldness smack his skin like ice. A faint glimmer of sunlight peek through the curtains but it never hold a candle to the air-condition. The room feels like a freezer keeping all 30 unopened boxes and sprawled toys like frozen meat.
His little wiener stirs in his silk pajamas. The cold adding to his misery.
He casually walks up to one of the boxes. Its nothing new for him, its always been like this every year. For the boy, his parents almost seem like a dream. They haunt him with gentle lullabys but when he opens his eyes, they disappear leaving only whispers.
He rip open the box to reveal a black mini drone.
He's surprised at first, but then his raised eyesbrows slowly drew together and his gaze hardened. He snaps. He throws the toy across the room and it hit the wall. However, the expensive toy didnt even dent.
His skin thrums even more in fury. Its the same toy in the last 3 consecutive birthdays! His birthday must be just another appointment to them that they just send over a gift and everything wil be solved.
They never paid me attention!
To them, Im just a chore!
A great pang grip his heart, and it doesnt help that his thing is stirring against his pajama.
A sob rose in his throat and his eyes are prickling with tears. He cried furiously, kicking and stomping all the nicely wrapped gifts. He punch over the cabinet that's filled with neatly organized toys and the glass broke against his knuckles.
It's suppose to be painful, it's suppose to sting but why does his heart stings more?
A loud gasp made Lucas glance to the door. His nanny -their 18 year old neighbor- rush to him in panic. She picks him up and made him sit onto the chair while she scurries to stop the bleeding.
He always find her eyes repulsive. They gaze over him in a strange glint that nauseating shivers would run down his spine. But right now she seems useful. She could even be his friend, though rare they share conversations and she's the only one beside him.
He groans in pain when the thing between his legs hardened. A throbbing burn formed a pool in his lower stomach. Its always been like this. He complains about persistent stomach ache but it doesnt go away with medicines.
His cries turned into whimpers. It's embarassing but maybe his nanny will know about the pain in his lower half.
Lucas took a deep breath before speaking, "Nanny?"
She glance up to him and her pupils weirdly dilates. She also clears up her throat to speak on a much higher but softer pitch. Then she flutters her eyelashes, her lips almost glued to a persistent smile. "Yes, Lucas?"
He blushes, embarassment creeping up to his throat. "I think I'm ill."
"What do you mean?" She lays her palm on his knees and his thing twitches uncontrollably.
Lucas burst out crying, in embarassment, in the fear that he's going to die so soon. The tears blurs out his vision but he manage to point to his pants as he croak out his words. "Here.... It's- It's painful."
He couldnt hear anything she's saying. He struggled to stop the sobs coming from his lips and he aggresively wipe the tears away with his hands. He wasn't aware that his nanny pulled down his pants to reveal his hard little wiener.
She pats his knees in encouragement. "No need to cry, I have the cure right here."
He peek through between his fingers but he couldnt see her holding any medicines up. "There's medicine?"
"It's better to show you plus you wont be in pain anymore!" She excitedly says, her fingers quickly wrapping around his thing.
At first he was cold, creeped out, and humiliated, but when warm skin touched his wiener a splurge of shivers ran through his stomach like a somersault. Suddenly, pain changed into an indescribable feeling of bliss, and the tense disappears into the cold air.
She can fit him all into her large hand, however she made her fingers move up and down in a euphoric manner. At first her movements were slow, but as if she knows what's his feeling, as if she has magic that feeds her intuition onto his breathing alone. She moves her fingers fast until the boy gasps blissfully, white liquid pours out of the head of his penis, and suddenly all the pain is gone.
However, the spark on the boy's eyes morphed into a lethal addiction. Pleasure will swallow his innocence and will someday spit out a murderous frenzy.
Realization feeds onto his mind like a dark nightmare without knowing this is only the beginning.
I want to feel more.