Chapter Text
“Father, a believer wishes to see you.”
“Who is it?”
“A boy with white hair named Neige.”
“Let him in.”
The last time Bellis saw Neige was two years ago. Bellis still remembered him very clearly, partly because he rarely encountered a believer with such a pleasing appearance. He had fluffy white hair and skin the color of snow, so soft and tender that one would want to caress him. With large, sparkling eyes like stars and chubby cheeks, he looked much younger than his actual age. Even his voice was like that, carrying a touch of innocence and purity that was enough to make Bellis feel guilty for a moment.
Their first lovemaking was when he was 16, with Bellis, when Neige didn't yet truly understand what making love meant.
His tears were clear and left a salty aftertaste on Bellis's tongue as he licked them away. The intermittent sobs between the passionate kisses, and even the way he weakly pushed him away, made Bellis addicted. He loved the feeling of taking, which is why he felt so much joy in stealing Neige's innocence. And Bellis always said that Neige was most beautiful when he cried, because it showed him his helplessness and how powerful he was.
It showed him how the future of a person, of a boy who was once the brightest, could be shattered by the strength and lust of those greater individuals.
But all good things must come to an end, and Bellis soon grew tired of Neige when he turned 18. He no longer had the innocent feelings of a child, and there was nothing fun about making love with someone so experienced in sex. So Bellis cut off contact with him for the past two years, and, seemingly aware of this, Neige did not go back to the Ophidian Sect during those two years. What made him come back here when Bellis had already set him free? There's no need to guess; Bellis will know the moment he sees Neige again.
Neige at 20 years old is not much different from Neige at 16.
He's still the same. Still the same boy with the short stature and youthful appearance. Fluffy hair and pale skin; from eyes to nose and mouth, everything is like that of a child. Even his voice is the same, still carrying the innocence of someone who doesn't know the harshness of life. The kind that makes people both hate and love him—hate out of jealousy, love out of sympathy. Seeing him, Bellis feels a little regretful. He could still be a wonderful toy, and two years without seeing him makes Bellis want to know what he's like now.
Does he still dream about Bellis?
"Why did you come back?"
Neige looked at him with those clear eyes, but for some reason, Bellis felt a chill run down his spine. Bellis didn't want to act on impulse; he couldn't just dismiss him because his intuition was warning him. So he pushed aside the unsettling feeling and waited for Neige's answer. After a moment, as if carefully considering his response, he finally smiled at him and replied,
"I miss you, Father."
Neige spoke as if the thing that happened between them were a daydream.
This answer made Bellis chuckle. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and couldn't hide his mockery as he asked him again,
"Miss me?"
Neige didn't flinch at Bellis's sarcastic tone. He nodded and moved closer. Bellis grew increasingly afraid, though for no apparent reason, each step he took seemed to crush his composure, leaving him with nothing but an instinct screaming at him to stay away from Neige.
“I missed you so much.”
He confessed, as if he were a hopeless romantic, and Bellis was the most heartless of all. Bellis truly couldn’t understand him, and the more he thought about it, the less he understood why he had returned. Bellis knew he was lying, but he lacked the composure to consider the real reason. His back pressed against the chair, and his hands clenched in extreme tension. Bellis tried to maintain a calm demeanor as he asked Neige the next question.
“Why did you miss me?”
Neige looked at him as if he himself were the answer. But seeing that Bellis still didn’t seem to grasp the issue, he shrugged and answered his question.
“I missed the feeling of being near you, close to you, hearing your voice, and touching you. I missed everything about you. Because I love you.”
Love?
This answer truly made Bellis want to burst out laughing. Love was such a stupid reason. Bellis couldn’t possibly love him. Neige was nothing more than a toy Bellis used for amusement, and he wasn’t the only one. Bellis had slept with countless believers and discarded countless believers. After all, they were all just objects, useful only for a short time and cheap enough for Bellis to discard without a second thought. If those believers were blind and easily manipulated, Bellis would keep them, perhaps sometimes blessing them and saying that he still cherished them as devout followers of himself and the Sect. If they were rational and level-headed enough to fend for themselves without needing blessings, that would be fine; Bellis would let them go and never bother with them again. But once people have tasted the good fortune and abundance that blessings bring, they can never give it up. When they face difficulties, when they realize things won't go as planned, that's when they'll remember him. But the Sect doesn't accept traitors, so once they leave, they give up their right to enjoy it.
But Neige is different. In fact, he's a very special case. Blanc introduced Neige to him when he was only 16, and because his life was already uneventful, he didn't need his blessings. So those intimate encounters brought him nothing but pain and trauma, and he wasn't a savior in Neige's naive world. So when Bellis got fed up with him and let him go, it was actually Neige who was freed. He had never known blessings, so he wouldn't be punished by blessings. And Neige could continue to live, even with a large scar in his heart; he could continue to live without ever being involved with the Sect again.
But he's here, saying he misses him, saying he loves him. Has Neige gone mad? But looking at Neige's serious face, Bellis knew he wasn't joking. It's just that Bellis didn't know why Neige would fall in love with him, especially after two years of silence. Bellis suspected he had some kind of plan, but he had no evidence, so he wouldn't jump to conclusions.
"So you want to return to the Sect?"
"Yes. I want to be useful to you."
“Alright. You can practice being my assistant. After all, the previous assistant has become senile, and I need a replacement. But are you sure you can do the tasks assigned to you well?”
“I will do my best for you, so please trust me.”
“Very well. I will have everyone arrange accommodation for you. Now I must receive other believers, so you may leave.”
Neige bowed his head and left as Bellis instructed. Although he still looked the same, Bellis was still hesitant about whether he should bless him this time. But before blessing him, he still needed to make sure that he had come here without any ulterior motives. Although the Sect had lasted for more than 10 years without ever being shaken, there was no guarantee that it would remain so forever. Eliminating the harmful elements was Bellis's most important task, and he wouldn't allow any mistakes if he wanted to keep his position as High Priest.
"Yami, keep an eye on him. If he does anything suspicious, report it to me immediately."
"Understood."
But nothing happened.
During 1 year Neige was here, he had done his best, just as he had promised. From accepting new believers and filtering them, to scheduling appointments for those Bellis agreed to bless, and even preparing food and drink for him. He had never said or done anything against Bellis's wishes, and according to Yami's report, he hadn't had any suspicious conversations or meetings. Perhaps Bellis was being overly suspicious. Nevertheless, he ordered Yami to continue monitoring Neige. Because every time Bellis was near him, he felt anxious and fearful, and Yami's reassurance made him feel more at ease.
"Andrew, Joseph, and Anthony are here today. Who would you like to bless?"
"Joseph. It's been a long time since I've seen him."
"Yes. I'll inform Joseph right away."
Blessing is a euphemism; in reality, it's making love.
Making love, when two bodies are close together, lips touching, and the person feels you with both heart and body, is when that person receives a blessing. Blessings come in many forms; it could be wealth, it could be success in everything they do, or it could also be a miraculous cure for an incurable disease overnight. Even illegal activities capable of destroying an entire city or securing a seat in the White House, Bellis could bring them blessings. Whatever it was, the blessings brought joy and happiness to those who received them, and these blessings could only come after making love to Bellis. But the blessings weren't permanent, and if they wanted continued wealth or good health, they had to be blessed every three months. However, with the ever-increasing number of followers and depending on his whims, Bellis couldn't bless everyone on schedule. So he excluded those he disliked or those who seemed disobedient, leaving only the blindly loyal believers who would obey his every command. Of course, he also faced opposition from many, but his obedient believers would be willing to die to protect him, so Bellis didn't need to worry about that. As long as his god was still by his side and granted him the ability to bestow miracles, the power of life and death would remain in his hands.
At night, as his body and Joseph's intertwined, and he heard his heavy breathing, Bellis yawned wearily. He finally remembered why it had been six months since he'd last seen Joseph: his lovemaking skills were terrible. He liked innocent guys, but that was only interesting when that innocence was accompanied by tears and pleas. Joseph wasn't like that, and his desperate attempts that yielded no results irritated him.
"Father… Are you dissatisfied?"
Bellis looked at Joseph, and his embarrassment only annoyed him further. Why was there someone so stupid that he didn't realize his own problem even after Bellis's reaction? Perhaps it was because he had been too lenient with him. After this, perhaps he would get rid of Joseph. He and his mayoral dreams could disappear from his sight, and Bellis would have plenty of time to enjoy himself with his new, more delicious sheep.
It's been so long, he wonders if Neige's taste has changed at all.
"Finish and leave."
"Wait! If I'm not doing well anywhere, please tell me. I'll try to improve. Please don't throw me away! I still have…"
"Still have your mayoral dreams? And then what? With your talent, how long do you think you'll hold onto that seat? You'll still have to rely on my blessings. And I really don't want to waste another second with you. So while I still have patience with you, you and that rubbish dream should get out of here."
Bellis stepped back from Joseph and stood up, putting his shirt back on and grumbling about how clumsy Joseph was in bed. Joseph knelt there, looking up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. Just because he hadn't done exactly as Bellis wanted, he was ready to cast him aside and insult his dreams. It wasn't that Joseph hadn't tried. He had tried his best. This was his school-age dream, and he was so close to achieving it. And yet, because of something as trivial as not being good at making love, both he and his dream were being thrown away. The value of a person, of his ambitions and the bright future Joseph could offer—all of it meaningless just because he couldn't make love the way this bastard wanted?
Joseph sprang to his feet and lunged at Bellis. If Bellis couldn't give him the blessing, he would take it himself. Ultimately, blessing is making love, and no rule says rape doesn't count.
"Let go! You're hurting me!"
"Shut up! You arrogant bastard! I'll show you you're not the one in charge here!"
Joseph covered his mouth, his other hand tearing off his shirt. Bellis tried to scream and struggle, but Joseph was already taller than him, and no matter how hard Bellis tried, he couldn't break free. His screams were stifled in his throat, and facing Joseph's darkened eyes, Bellis felt fear for the first time. He didn't know what to do, and his mind wasn't clear enough to think of a way to escape. He didn't even have the right to speak, so there was no way Joseph would listen to his apologies or pleas. Bellis could only use all his strength to try to escape Joseph's grip, but the difference in strength was too obvious.
"Father Bellis!" The door to the room burst open, followed by a deafening barrage of gunshots. The next thing he knew, Joseph's body fell upon him, and he could feel the wetness on his shirt. Bellis looked up and saw bullet holes in Joseph's back, blood soaking both his and Joseph's bodies. The sight was so shocking that Bellis gasped for breath, his eyes wide as he watched Neige rush over, push Joseph's body away, and urgently ask,
“Father Bellis, are you alright?”
Bellis looked at Neige, the worry still etched on the white-haired boy's face. Bellis reached out, as if to grasp Neige’s robe, and Neige immediately moved closer so he could reach it. Bellis was still disoriented by what had just happened, only able to stammer and cling to Neige’s robe. Neige didn’t rush him, only taking his blood-stained hand and gently comforting him.
“You’re safe now. I’m here. I will definitely protect you.”
Bellis finally regained some composure, hugging Neige tightly and sobbing. Neige wasn’t disgusted by his blood-soaked appearance; he simply bent down, embracing him and whispering comforting words. His hand gently stroked from the back of Bellis’s head to the nape, his other hand holding him close as if afraid that if he let go, Bellis would vanish.
After that incident, Yami was reprimanded and given 100 lashes for failing to intervene in time. Neige, on the other hand, gained his complete trust and was officially promoted to assistant. In this position, Bellis had more time to observe Neige, and he had to admit that Neige showed no suspicious qualities as he had feared. Bellis even laughed at himself for letting his suspicious nature torment him. Because even if Neige had ill intentions, what could he really do? As long as he was still under divine protection and able to bestow blessings, his position was unshakeable.
"Father Bellis, may I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead."
"I wonder how the believers who are no longer blessed by you are doing?"
"Ah… most of them are dead."
"... Why?"
“You know. Once people get something too easily, they become complacent and unable to cope with difficulties. The blessed are the same; they’ve achieved something through blessings, and if you tell them they have to face the next stage on their own, most won’t accept it. And they’ve forgotten how to deal with life’s uncertainties, so they almost always choose suicide. I’m merciful enough to continue blessing them, but not all of them. After all, disobedient and useless dogs should be discarded. Don’t you think so?”
“Yes. You’re right. But what about the believers who are still following you? Will you still welcome them forever? After all, they are obedient and beneficial to both you and the Sect.”
“No.”
“Huh?”
“What I mean is, there will come a time when I won’t need them anymore, and that’s when I’ll kick them out. I’ve blessed them too many times, and isn’t that already too kind? A good dog knows its place and doesn’t demand anything. Even if its owner throws it away, it won’t chase after them. The believers are the same; I’ve been too merciful to them, and they should know their place. Besides, you see, making love to old people isn’t in my vocabulary. So I won’t keep blessing them forever. When the time is right, I’ll replace them. But don’t worry, you’re young, so you can be with me for a long time. Anyway, I really like you, and you’re special, so don’t worry too much about your place.”
"Yes. It is a blessing to have received your favor. I don't know how to express my gratitude, but I am truly thankful."
Neige bowed and excused himself to get dinner for Bellis. Lately, he'd been dining with Neige often. Bellis liked watching him laugh at his little stories about the believers. It had been over five years since they first met, yet Neige hadn't grown any taller. He was still stuck at 1.60 meters, 20 centimeters shorter than Bellis, and every time he stood in front of him, Bellis had to look down to see him. From this angle, his eyes looked bigger, and his chubby cheeks made him want to bite them, wondering if they tasted like clouds or vanilla ice cream. He liked the way Neig's cheeks flushed when he leaned too close, and he also liked the way he stammered when he teased him with a few flirtatious remarks. And though he hated to admit it, Bellis would say that he had a little crush on him.
Bellis wondered to himself, when should he make love to Neige? He wondered if anything had changed in that area after all these years. But Bellis also knew he shouldn't ruin their good relationship with his own impulsiveness, so he would restrain his desires and wait for the right opportunity.
When Neige returned, he wasn't pushing the food cart, but was followed by angry-looking believers. Before Bellis could understand what was happening, they swarmed in. Some held his arms, others his legs, shouting at him, but he couldn't hear a single word clearly. At least his eyesight was good enough to see Neige slowly walk in, with an air of composure as if everything happening to him was part of his plan.
"I intended to let you eat first before dealing with this, but it seems after hearing what you said, they've lost all patience with you."
Bellis didn't rush to question him, knowing that showing any signs of anxiety or impatience would only make him seem weaker. So, Bellis tried to remain calm and waited to see what Neige wanted. Seeing him like that, Neige wasn't surprised and continued with his story.
“You know. I’ve spent the past year showing them your true colors. From your secret purging of disobedient believers to your excessive favoritism towards certain individuals. Then, trying to find out where the money donated by the believers went, and just as I suspected, it all ended up in your pocket. Next, your true thoughts about their prayers and dreams. “Rubbish,” just like you said to Joseph that day. And finally, today, when you’ve finally trusted me enough to tell me your thoughts about the believers—those who have given everything to you and the Sect, but in your eyes, they’re nothing more than animals. Animals with no right to resist if you want to discard them. And I think comparing them to animals is still too mild. To you, they’re just toys that, once you’ve extracted your pleasure from them, you’re ready to throw them in the trash. Am I right, Father?"
So this was a plan that had been underway for over a year? From the beginning, he should have followed his instincts and stayed away from the danger posed by Neige. But perhaps it was because he was too complacent, or perhaps too greedy, that he allowed Neige to drag him down like this. However, Bellis wasn't afraid. If they intended to execute him, so be it. After all, he was 32 years old and had lived in praise and adoration for almost 12 years. Bellis had nothing to regret.
"Kill me if you want to."
Bellis didn't mind facing Neige, but his reply only made him laugh. He moved closer, grabbed his collar, and his face was only a few centimeters from Bellis' as he spoke.
"There's no fun in killing you."
Then, he yanked his shirt, causing the buttons to pop off and scatter everywhere. Bellis immediately knew what he wanted, so he screamed and used all his strength to break free from the encirclement of the believers.
“Yami! Save me! Yami!”
Just seconds later, Yami arrived. He entered, his sword still at his side, ready to be drawn. Seeing him, Bellis cried out for help. Yami was very skilled in combat, and this many people were no problem for him. Even if he died at their hands, at least it would give Bellis enough time to escape. Seeing him, the other followers were frightened, hastily letting go of him and backing away. Bellis immediately stood up and ran towards him. But before he could react, Yami struck him hard in the stomach with the hilt of his sword, causing him to collapse. With the purple eyes that Bellis always said were like precious gems, now they held an unmistakable coldness as he softly asked,
“Can I be the first?”
Neige stood between him and Yami before he could strike any harder, and whispered,
“At least after me.” Yami recoiled, not wanting to argue any further. Neige reached out, grabbed his hair, and dragged him back to the room. During that short journey, Bellis screamed, begged, and cursed, but none of his words worked.
“Let go! Someone! Help! Is anyone there!?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to disrespect anyone! It’s my fault! Please forgive me!”
“Let me go! Damn it! I said let me go! Did you hear me!? You son of a bitch! Let me go!”
Back in the room, Neige pushed open the door and dragged him inside. He threw him onto the bed and turned to look at Yami, who was peeking through the crack in the door, and said,
“Keep watch there, waiting for my next instructions.”
Yami closed the door, leaving him exhausted after screaming until his throat ached and his stomach ached from the blows. But Bellis still had enough strength to sit up, facing Neige and his mocking gaze. Now that they were alone and Bellis was certain the other followers would heed Neige's words, he would need to convince him.
“Can we talk calmly? You know I’ve always considered you special, more so than those stupid bastards out there. You…”
Before he could finish his sentence, Neige reached out and grabbed his face, preventing him from continuing. He flashed a bright smile, but the way he spoke betrayed no emotion. Each word was flat, like the surface of an icy lake on the coldest day. Bellis didn’t understand why he associated him with an icy lake; perhaps it was because his tone was both flat and cold. Or perhaps it was because Neige was covered in hidden scars and wounds, trampled upon by others yet unable to confide in anyone? Bellis didn't know; he only knew that the person before him was even harsher than a bitter winter.
"Special? I know. I'm special because I'm your obedient dog. And before that, I was special because I was the only child you had the chance to defile, because my blind foster father wanted me to receive your blessings. Thank you. Because of you, I've never had a good night's sleep or felt safe around anyone else."
Bellis never knew how much he had hurt Neige.
Even Neige himself couldn't articulate how much pain he had endured, only knowing that he was hurt, only knowing how to release it through tears, feeling the helplessness seep into his mind to the point of rotting him.
So there would be no salvation here. After all, it was just the hurt seeking revenge. Neige wouldn't try to justify what he was doing, but he was doing what he wanted, and he was happy about it.
Bellis tried to push Neige away, but the difference in strength was too great. No matter how hard he tried, he wouldn't budge an inch. He remained kneeling there, his small body casting a shadow over him as if wanting to swallow him whole. And watching him struggle like that made him laugh. It started with giggles, then grew louder, until tears welled up in his eyes from laughing so much. Before Bellis could understand why he was laughing, he grabbed his wrists and pressed his body against him, pinning him to the bed. Neige sat on his stomach, his hands still gripping his wrists, and he leaned down, humming softly.
“Bellis… Ah, no, my dear Federico. You’re pathetically weak.”
Bellis didn't know how Neige knew his real name, but that could wait. Right now, the most important thing was getting out of here.
"We can handle this another way. Do you need money? I can give you as much as you want. Or how about a wish you want to come true? I'll help you..."
“Federico, haven’t you grasped the problem yet? I want nothing more than to teach you a lesson, to return all the pain you’ve caused me. And yes, perhaps I have one wish. I wish I could show you what hell is like, my dear Federico.”
Saying this, Neige pulled Bellis' hands up and tied his wrists together, securing them to the headboard with the ribbon he always wore. Then, when he could no longer push him away, Neige slowly traced his slender fingers from his neck down to his chest and stomach, gently opening his shirt and exposing his torso to the cold air. Neige touched his chest, caressing his small breast in his palms and feeling the softness of his skin, a strangely pleasurable sensation. Then he moved his hand down again, this time to his buttocks. From gentle caresses, he suddenly squeezed hard, causing Bellis to cry out. His trousers were soon tossed aside, lying somewhere on the floor, no longer able to protect him from Neige's lustful touches.
Bellis's legs thrashed about, but Neige seemed to have grown weary of his futile resistance, so with a simple movement, he broke one of his ankles. It was just a gentle twist, but it was enough to shatter the bone, and Bellis let out a pained scream, followed by tears welling up in his eyes.
"I know you heal quickly, so even if you break a bone, it will only take a few days to heal. Besides, I'm doing this so that those after me won't have trouble with you."
Bellis looked at Neige with fearful eyes, not daring to struggle any further, afraid of breaking his other ankle as well. He breathed heavily, trying to reach up and check the condition of his ankle, but he couldn't. He tried to think of some kind of plea, anything, enough to make him give up, but the pain overwhelmed him, and for a moment, he forgot where he was.
Neige ignored his pleas, reaching down and directly inserting two fingers inside without any lubricant. The sudden insertion startled Bellis, who instinctively struggled to escape, but his hands were bound, one ankle was broken, and any attempt to move sent a pain signal to his brain, causing him to wince. He stammered, trying to say something, but only sobs and whimpers escaped his throat, showing Neige how badly he had been hurt.
Neige didn't want to prolong the foreplay with Bellis, so he quickly took off his pants. Seeing the size of his cock, Bellis was terrified. If that thing actually thrust inside, he would die. But despite his efforts to muster some semblance of sanity, Bellis could only manage a few disjointed words.
“Please… Please…”
Neige didn’t care how terrified Bellis was, or perhaps even enjoyed it. So all he could offer him was a gentle smile as he gripped Bellis’s waist and thrust in, enough to penetrate him completely. Just a second, that was all Neige needed to tear Bellis apart. And he screamed as his hands clenched together, a natural reflex to fight the overwhelming pain. His back arched, his toes curled, and he unconsciously kicked against the bed as if trying to escape Neige. His whole body tensed with pain, and tears welled up as a matter of course. Blood, too, seeped from below, staining the bedsheets in bright red spots like flowers blooming on snow. Seeing him bleed so much, Neige couldn't help but feel a perverse pleasure. He slowly pulled out, his eyes gleaming as he looked at his blood-soaked cock. His giggles carried an unmistakable malice as he aggressively thrust in again, pushing Bellis back with a brutal push. Bellis screamed, his body convulsing in agony, but unable to. All he could do was look at him with teary eyes and utter broken pleas between sobs.
“I… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… Ple… Please… Forgive me…”
Neige ignored Bellis and his pleas. He began to move, and each thrust caused Bellis to wince in pain. Bellis didn't want to give in to Neige, but each time it pierced inside, Bellis felt like he was being torn in two. Countless scratches overlapped, drawing blood each time Neige pulled out. There was no pleasure, unlike any previous lovemaking; at this moment, all he could feel was pain.
"Come on. Mock me and say my technique is terrible. After all, besides you, I've never made love to anyone else."
Neige sneered, but Bellis was no longer lucid enough to respond. Bellis could feel it clearly, accompanied by pain, each thrust causing his stomach to bulge. That thing utterly shattered him, leaving him with nothing but excruciating pain that caused his entire body to tremble uncontrollably.
Now Bellis could do nothing but cry. He was no longer lucid enough to plead properly, only able to utter disjointed words amidst pathetic, laughable sobs. A man like Bellis, a man who had once stood above everyone and considered ordinary people worth less than objects, now lay beneath his victim, weeping and begging for mercy.
“Please… It hurts… Please… It hurts so much… I’m sorry… Please… Stop…”
Neige chuckled at his pleas. His usual self-satisfaction had vanished, and this look of utter hurt aroused him intensely. Neige became more violent, each time pulling out nearly entirely before thrusting back inside, ravaging him mercilessly. Bellis was overwhelmed by pain, his mind reeling, only able to cry out in response to Neige's malice. His green eyes were filled with tears, his hair disheveled, his face flushed red from crying, all of which made it impossible for Neige to stop. Neige had no intention of giving him any pleasure. Everything he did was to make him endure this sexual torture. Therefore, he wouldn't caress his body, wouldn't kiss him, and wouldn't show any mercy with each thrust. Neige only wanted to hurt Bellis; he only wanted to imprint on his body and mind that this haunting pain was his doing. And he hoped that even in his dreams, Bellis would remember that only Neige could hurt him this much.
This time, the next, and hundreds of times after that, Neige would use every means to frighten him, to the point where just hearing his name would make Bellis' legs tremble, his breathing stop, and he would be left kneeling before him as if it were his god.
Let Neige become Bellis's belief.
Bellis didn't know how much pleasure Neige got from this, but from the look of enjoyment on his face, he could tell. Was he like this back then? Was he once this excited and cruel when faced with Neige's pleas and cries? No, it was worse, because back then Neige was just a 16-year-old boy who knew nothing of the world.
A boy so innocent to the point of foolishness, with clear eyes reflecting the naivety of youth. Bellis had never considered that he had stolen the sparkle from those eyes, nor had he ever looked back at the ravaged Neige after each time he pinned him down, reveling in the childlike body to satisfy his most vile desires.
Is this the price to pay? Is this his retribution?
Seeing him cry so miserably aroused Neige intensely. The blood vessels in his body seemed to surge, and Neige could feel his heart pounding with excitement. Although he knew that once he indulged in this, he would become just as depraved as Bellis, he didn't care. Even if he had to go to hell, Neige would drag Bellis along with him. Because his entire life had been ruined by Bellis, he would also ruin everything that had made Bellis who he was. More than that, he would show him that living from this point on would become a kind of torture, and no matter how many prayers Bellis prayed, he couldn't escape the punishment that Neige had brought upon him.
His hands gripped his waist so tightly they turned purple, and his breathing was rapid as he thrust in and out of him quickly and forcefully. The sounds of flesh colliding were obscene, and the way he groaned softly as he squeezed him so tightly made this act of lovemaking feel more real than ever. It was strange that after having sex with so many people, Bellis could still be so tight that it caused Neige pain. But that also meant he would hurt more, and Neige was willing to endure a little more to inflict even more pain on him. Blood soaked the bedsheets beneath his ass, turning into a bright red pool that made Neige feel like he was being burned alive. How ironic. Even though he hated Bellis to the core, only he could give him this kind of intense pleasure.
It was still Neige who desired Bellis, in the most brutal, cruel way he could imagine. And all he could and would give him was pain.
Blood became a lubricant, making each movement smoother, but this was proof of how deeply wounded he was inside. This was the price to pay, no, only a part of it. Because Neige still had so much he wanted to do, and this little bit of blood couldn't possibly compensate for the days gone by.
Did Bellis remember that he, too, had bled so much that day? Certainly not, so he wouldn't care about the stained sheet.
Neige remained the same, unconcerned about how much pain he was in, relentlessly delivering each cruel thrust. Each time it was withdrawn, it brought with it blood, the thrust causing it to splatter onto Bellis's thigh. Bellis, now with little strength left, could only sob as if trying to release the pain surging from below through crying. He didn't even know what he could say or do to stop him, so he just continued to weep bitterly. He wondered a thousand times why this had happened to him and where he had gone wrong.
"Why are you so cruel to me?"
That single question encapsulated Bellis's entire being, and Neige was momentarily stunned. It wasn't that Bellis didn't remember, but rather that he had never considered himself wrong. He apologized when faced with negative reactions from others, but he didn't see himself as guilty. The same was true of what had happened to Neige; even though he had utterly destroyed him, Bellis never once thought he was wrong.
The trauma was so deep, the pain both physical and emotional, yet in Bellis's eyes, it was something not worth feeling even a little remorse about. Should Neige be blamed for being more stubbornly attached to the past than anyone else, thus suffering far more than others, or should Bellis be blamed for being so heartless and cruel, never considering the consequences of his heinous acts? The more Neige thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. Was it Bellis’ fault or his? He didn't know anymore. He only knew that a storm of hatred raged within him, and he swore he would make him pay.
Neige reached out and touched his neck. Then, beginning with gentle caresses and ending with a smile that held an unknown meaning, he squeezed Bellis' neck in his hand. Bellis, his neck constricted, arched his back, his legs flailing as if trying to escape his grip, but to no avail. His hands were bound tightly, leaving only one leg free to move. Bellis was now a mere plaything in Neige's tyrannical hands. His face was flushed red, his eyes wide, and saliva dripped from his mouth as each breath caught in his throat. He didn't even have time to beg, only to await his imminent end. Though he claimed not to fear death, at this very moment, Bellis felt a terror so profound that he could only plead for mercy, a mercy devoid of that small body.
Neige tightened his grip around his neck, watching the man beneath him struggle in vain. The way Bellis tightened around him was truly captivating. Tears streamed down his face, wetting Neige's fingers. Each choked gasp, each desperate struggle—it was all so endearing.
Just when he thought his end was near, Neige released his grip. Bellis immediately gasped for air, trying to save himself. But Neige didn't give Bellis a moment's rest as he aggressively thrust in again, pushing Bellis's entire body upwards with a single thrust. Bellis had no time to regain his balance, only able to use his remaining strength to withstand Neige's relentless torture.
He had never known that sex could be this dreadful. Or perhaps it was because he had never been in this position before, and therefore didn't know how much pain others could endure. All he knew was that amidst the thrusts and his own sobs, Bellis felt the fear of sex for the first time. Bellis didn't know what he could pray for, or whether God was still there to answer his plea. The overwhelming pain was so intense that Bellis couldn't even think of a complete prayer, so he could only lie there and endure Neige's torture.
Finally, Neige bent down and bit his shoulder before shuddering and coming inside. Could it really be this disgusting and terrible? Warm cum flooded inside, filling and burning his stomach. But Bellis felt no pleasure in it. He only felt excruciating pain. All he wanted was to sleep, wake up, and hope it was all just a dream.
But Neige didn't give him the chance to do that. Instead, he untied him and made him kneel on the bed. Bellis was completely exhausted, so he couldn't even kneel steadily. After lifting him a few times, Neige finally lost patience. He made him spread his legs, then grabbed his waist and thrust into him from behind again. Even though he had just pulled out, this thrust felt like he was tearing Bellis in two once more. Bellis buried his head in the pillow; from this angle, he could clearly see how each thrust made his stomach bulge. Even as a seasoned lover, Bellis had never met anyone like him, and this was the first time he had been so ravaged.
Bellis was Neige's first time. And Neige would be countless other first times for Bellis.
It was like a game, a competition to see who could hurt the other more. Even though Neige never wanted to participate, he was still forced to become an unwilling player. Ultimately, he couldn't escape his fate; he chose to return and inflict the worst nightmare on the one he hated.
Each thrust sent blood splattering onto Bellis's pale ass. Each thrust was accompanied by Bellis's sobs. He tried to resist, clenching his teeth to show Neige that he wouldn't surrender. But the pain was overwhelming, making it impossible for Bellis to cope, no matter how hard he tried. Bellis's legs trembled on the bed—or rather, his whole body was shaking. Each thrust pushed him forward, tearing him in two, and all he could feel was pain. But that was Neige's purpose. He didn't want him to experience any pleasure from this act of lovemaking. Pain, excruciating pain, that's what Neige wanted him to feel, and he was doing it very well.
Bellis couldn't even support himself on the bed anymore, and before he knew it, his chest had pressed against the mattress, pulling the sheets up with each thrust. His ears were ringing, and the softness of the fabric against his cheeks blurred. Only the horrific sensation below remained clear as ever. And Bellis could do nothing but lie there and endure him, like a doll for Neige to satisfy his animalistic desires.
Neige, long ago, was no different from a doll for Bellis to satisfy his animalistic desires. He had cried, he had begged, but in the end, he couldn't resist Bellis. And even though he saw how small and helpless he was, Bellis couldn't muster a shred of pity, continuing with the act of lovemaking where only he himself was enjoying it.
Neige had never experienced pleasure. Throughout those two years, he had never once enjoyed making love with Bellis. But Bellis didn't care about that; all he cared about was himself.
So Neige wouldn't show him any mercy either, because Bellis didn't deserve it.
It's unclear how much time had passed, but Bellis had cried until his voice was hoarse before Neige slowed down a little. The bleeding had soon subsided, but this was more than enough to show how much pain Neige had inflicted on him. Looking at the pool of blood on the bedsheet, Neige couldn't help but smirk, as if seeing the great reward of his arduous efforts. He thrust in a few more times, then finally grabbed Bellis's hand and ejaculated inside. The hot cum flowed inside, once again burning Bellis's stomach, but he didn't dare resist. All he could do was use his remaining strength to grip the bedsheets and clench his teeth, suppressing the humiliation and letting it all burst inside him.
All of this was just a torture inflicted by Neige, and even if Bellis wanted to escape it, he couldn't.
After coming inside, Neige pulled out and turned him over. Seeing Bellis so badly injured, he couldn't contain the surging excitement. Bellis's face was flushed, tears streamed down his cheeks, and his lips were bitten until they bled. The way he looked at Neige was addictive; the fear was undeniable, and those green pupils trembled with anxiety, making Neige want to burst out laughing. A man who had once been so arrogant and ruthless now didn't even dare to resist, only able to look at him as if begging for mercy.
Neige didn't have that, or perhaps he had lost that quality somewhere along this path of revenge, so he had nothing to offer Bellis but insane lust.
But it wouldn't end there, because to welcome Bellis to a new life, he had thrown a big party to entertain everyone. So Neige got out of bed, walked towards the door, and peeked through it. Bellis's mind was still hazy, but he could still vaguely hear what he was saying.
"You may come in now."
Then came the touch of someone, and before he knew it, that person's face was pressed close to his, their hands wrapping his neck. Those eyes were always the same, a dreamy purple, shining like a precious gem. He looked at Bellis and whispered with a smile, his cheeks flushing with excitement.
"Accept my love, Father."