'FREEDOM!'
When she dragged me into the hotel, I forced myself to put on a loving smile, shoving the pain and horror deep inside where it couldn't be seen. But oddly enough, the smile didn't feel forced—it came so naturally, as if it was the only thing I could truly offer her in that moment.
And then, something strange happened. The longer I held that smile, the less it felt like an act. It was as though a part of me truly believed it, clinging to the hope of love despite everything that had just happened.
Was it an act? I wondered, my thoughts swirling in confusion. The line between pretense and sincerity blurred, leaving me unsure of what was real anymore.
'FREEDOM!'
Too impatient to bother with slowly removing my clothing, she tore them apart with ease before throwing herself at me. What followed were heavy, messy kisses, each one desperate and overwhelming. These kisses carried the weight of our love, of how much we had missed each other.
'Wait… I didn't miss her. Did I?' The thought nagged at me even as her lips pressed harder against mine, her hands gripping me like I was the only thing anchoring her to reality.
I had to snap out of it and focus on the goal,
'FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM! FREEDOM!'
Hours passed in an endless cycle of thrusting, so relentless that my hips began to ache, my body protesting with every motion. Release after release left my balls throbbing in pain, and even my "little brother" cried out for mercy. But I couldn't stop—not yet.
I pushed myself past my limits, digging deep to draw on every ounce of strength I still had. If nothing else, I was determined to give her the best experience of her life. And I did—every motion, every moment calculated to perfection. Yet, despite all that effort, I couldn't bring myself to enjoy it.
My mind was elsewhere, focused on one thing and one thing alone: my goal.
So I kept going, driving myself to the edge of exhaustion, my body moving on autopilot. Only when she finally reached her limits, her body spent and her desire sated, did she roll over with a contented sigh, murmuring something did I relax.
"ThAt WaS AmAzInG... I WaNt To SlEep WiTh YoU iN mY aRmS," she mumbled, her speech slurred and uneven.
Her arms reached out toward me, trembling slightly as she waited for me to fall into them. Her eyes were closed, and her face relaxed in a way that only came from pure contentment after the hours she'd just endured.
"I want to take a shower before bed," I said, wiping at the sweat clinging to my skin. It was everywhere, dripping from me like I'd just climbed out of a swimming pool. "You go ahead and get some sleep. I'll join you soon."
"OkAy, HuRrY, I CaN't WaIt To HoLd YoU iN mY aRmS AgAiN," she mumbled, her voice still slurred with exhaustion.
Too tired to complain or insist, she simply accepted my need for a shower. I couldn't help but feel a wave of relief—normally, she wouldn't have cared how dirty or sweaty I was, dragging me into her embrace regardless.
"Love you," I said softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.
A sweet, contented smile spread across her face, but it was the knockout blow she needed. Within seconds, she was fast asleep, her breathing steady and peaceful.
Seeing her like that, I let out a heavy sigh, my hand moving instinctively to my chest. My heart ached, an overwhelming, almost unbearable pain, but I forced myself to ignore it.
'FREEDOM!'
Wasting no time, I threw on my clothes, my movements rushed but deliberate. Before leaving, I scribbled down a letter—a goodbye letter. It wasn't quick. It was filled with explanations, truths, and a few carefully placed twists to soften the blow. Once finished, I set it beside her, took a deep breath, and ran.
I ran with everything I had, ignoring the world around me. My powers were drained, completely spent from what I'd endured. This moment was my only chance, and I couldn't waste it. But as the adrenaline surged through me, one question loomed over my mind: 'Where could I go?'
Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel it—that bond between us. It pulsed faintly, like a string connecting us no matter where I was. I knew that if I could sense her, she could sense me too. No matter how far I ran, no matter where I tried to hide, she would find me.
But I had to do something. Once she woke up, there was no doubt in my mind—my dick would be gone, my memory erased. She wouldn't forget about her so-called punishment, and I had no interest in ever letting anal happen to me.
What scared me the most, though, wasn't just the punishment. It was the intrusive thought, the terrifying realization, that a part of me, buried deep beneath the fear, was open to the idea. These uncontrollable feelings she'd planted in me made it harder to fight back, harder to stay true to what I wanted.
But I didn't want this. I couldn't. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to escape before she woke up and took everything from me.
She would erase my memory—there was no doubt about that. In her mind, the time I had spent away from her had dirtied me. To her, erasing my memory was like a cleansing shower, a way to make me "pure" again.
I shuddered at the thought, but strangely, neither the memory erasure nor the dreaded "butt thing" terrified me the most. No, what truly sent chills down my spine was the realization that I had no freedom.
Even my thoughts weren't free—they felt chained, controlled, bending under the weight of her influence. I had to force myself to focus, to remember my dreams, my goals, and what was actually happening.
But the confusion lingered, gnawing at me. Did I love her? Did I hate her? I didn't know anymore. The lines were blurred, my feelings a tangled mess of emotions I couldn't unravel.
Right now, I was forcing myself to act, to run, to escape, pushing aside everything else. I tried my best to ignore the emotions she stirred in me, to shove them into a corner where they couldn't distract me. But even as I ran, those feelings loomed, refusing to let go.
I want to be free, but was I ever truly free? From birth, every action I made, every decision I thought was my own, had been meticulously planned by her. Where was the freedom in that?
My mind raced through possibilities. I could play the act of the perfect lover, make her hesitate long enough to buy myself time. But deep down, I knew her too well. Even if it broke her heart, even if it hurt her beyond measure, she wouldn't hesitate to erase my memory. In her mind, it was the only way to fix what she saw as broken.
The strange part was how clearly I understood her now, far more than I ever had before realizing how truly insane she was. Her thoughts, her motivations, her emotions—they all made sense to me in a way that felt unsettlingly natural... God, she's so amazing.
I didn't know how long I had been running. Time had become meaningless, my focus consumed entirely by the need to get as far away as possible. But eventually, my body betrayed me. My legs buckled, and I collapsed onto the ground, my muscles screaming in protest, refusing to move.
My vision blurred, darkness creeping at the edges. I can't faint, She would wake up soon, and when she did, I'd lose everything. I had to do something, anything.
Gritting my teeth, I willed myself forward, dragging my body inch by inch. Every movement was agony, but I refused to stop.
My hand reached out, trembling with effort, but it never touched the ground. Something—someone—had taken hold of it.
My tired eyes struggled to focus, confusion swirling in my mind as I looked up. What I saw left me speechless.
Standing before me was a figure unlike anything I'd ever seen. Their appearance defied the boundaries of gender, radiating an allure so profound it felt almost supernatural. They were the perfect magnet of desire, a presence so overwhelming that it seemed to pull at the very core of my being.
It was as if I were staring at the walking embodiment of the concept of Desire itself. Like Lucifer, but on a level that transcended simple charm. Their allure wasn't limited by male or female—it was a fusion of the two, a seamless blend that drew in every gaze, every thought, without effort.
This figure had to be a projection of the collective desires of all lifeforms.
"I'm sorry... this is all my fault," the figure said, their voice carrying a strange mix of guilt and sincerity as they helped me to my feet.
Oddly, as their hand steadied me, I felt a faint surge of strength returning to my body. It wasn't much—barely a flicker of what I once had—but it was enough to stand. My body, though no longer wracked with exhaustion, felt fragile, my strength now only at the peak of human capability. My former levels of power were long gone, leaving behind an aching emptiness.
"Why are you apologizing?" I asked, my voice hoarse and weak.
"There's no time to explain," they replied sodtly. "She'll wake up soon."
They extended their hand, revealing a glowing golden orb that pulsed faintly with energy. "I managed to collect the source of your power—the thing she destroyed. It took time to piece it back together, and even then, I couldn't restore it perfectly. But this… this is the best I could do."
I stared at the orb, my breath catching as I realized what it was: my template. The core of everything I was, now barely holding together, but still there.
"Before I give this to you," they said softly, their voice carrying a strange weight, "I want you to do one thing for me."
I blinked, still trying to fully process everything that had just happened.
"Let your Desire for Freedom chain you," they continued, their tone almost soothing. "And in doing so, let all other chains fall away. Only when the time comes for you to achieve true freedom can you break free from all desires."
Before I could respond, they pulled me into a deep hug. The gesture was warm, almost comforting, but something about it made me uneasy. I felt them linger, as though reluctant to let go, and for a moment, I thought I heard them inhale deeply.
Were they smelling my hair?
"Why are you helping me?" I couldn't stop myself from asking, the words slipping out before I had a chance to reconsider.
They paused for a moment, their hand still resting on my shoulder. "Because…" they began, their voice soft yet steady, "I'm in love."
I blinked, caught completely off guard as they continued, their tone laced with quiet sincerity. "I've been in love with you for the longest time. Ever since your desire for freedom was born, I've taken notice of you. It was love at first sight."
Their words carried an overwhelming weight, as if they had held this confession back for ages. "Although I tried to reject it, in the end, I found myself desiring nothing more than for your every wish to become reality."
Their hand moved to my head, gently rubbing it with a tenderness that made my chest lighten. I couldn't see their face, but I could feel it—their loving smile
"... I agree," I said softly, my voice hesitant. "But she could find me."
The thought weighed heavily on me. Still, if I had to choose, I'd happily take on a chain I had a better chance of breaking—one tied to freedom—rather than the suffocating chain my ex-wife had wrapped around me.
Wait… her chaining me up didn't sound so bad… Oh god, what am I thinking?! I shook my head, trying to shove the intrusive thought aside.
"Don't worry," they said softly, their tone reassuring. "All you have to do is turn your dreams into reality. This is the first time I've ever agreed to be on good terms with Morpheus, but for you, I can do anything."
Their words carried an almost overwhelming sincerity, and as they continued, their form began to shift subtly, their features softening.
"I've thought long and hard about what to do with you," they said, their voice steady. "I considered sending you through the small crack she made to escape, but in the end, the most dangerous place is often the safest place."
By the time they finished speaking, their transformation was complete. Their form now leaned fully into a feminine appearance—one that was disturbingly my type.
I blinked, struggling to process what I was seeing, only to realize something even more unsettling: she now looked eerily like my ex-wife.
"Can I get a kiss before you go?" she asked, her cheeks faintly flushed with a sigh that carried a mix of longing and restraint.
Her words caught me off guard, and I froze for a moment, stunned. But then I gave a hesitant nod. 'It's just a kiss,' I told myself. 'A kiss for freedom.' That seemed like a fair trade, right?
Besides, this person in front of me was most likely one of the Endless. From what I understood, they had no fixed gender—this was just the form they chose to take. So technically, this wasn't gay. Not even remotely.
And the fact that she now looked like my ex-wife? That has absolutely nothing to do with my decision, Nothing at all.
So I leaned in, still trying to convince myself that I wasn't overthinking the whole situation.
So, we shared a kiss. At first, I thought it would be a simple tap, something quick and forgettable. But she took it a step further, giving me the most loving kiss I'd ever experienced. It was soft, tender, and carried a depth of affection that seemed almost infinite.
Yet, as her lips lingered on mine, something felt… off.
This kiss was far different from anything my ex-wife had ever given me. There was no trace of her usual intensity, no hint of the overwhelming, chaotic passion that made her kisses impossible to forget. This one was calm, and deliberate, missing something I couldn't quite put into words.
And that absence made it feel… lifeless.
Even a kiss from Ivy or Harley, with all their quirks and madness, felt more alive than this.
This kiss was technically perfect, yes—but maybe perfection wasn't what I wanted after all.
Oh God, crazy was my type...