《Pigs call it "Taboo".》𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑'

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*:・゚✧*:・゚

*:・゚✧*:・゚

.

"I love you"

"There are many mirrors, some that we see, others that we don't. But, trust they always see us even when we're not looking."

"I passionately slay the metaphors contributing to human life, they serve no purpose."

"We're used to drawing spears, and the ideal darkness of war, but not the figurative language of art."

"Life has purpose within itself, that's why we have to live it, for other people to say when we died, we did something or nothing at all."

"I am no amateur, for I am."

"There's days when the sun has to dim its light, so it doesn't burn itself out."

- Pete Phongsakorn

.

Vegas Theerapanyakul is a horrible person. He, himself knows of this too well, so why bother telling a horrible person, that they're a horrible person. If they already know. It serves a purpose, but not a big one, not big enough to reframe oneself construction, or destruction.

He wasn't always like this. Things happen, and it ends up peeling away the good skin, for some individuals. I am not scared of him, I won't ever be, I'm just scared of the anger, and pain that peels him alive, even the bad skin. He used to be such a good person, one will morals, and a dream for his nation. He had it all. Then, when his family died, it killed him along. He was never the same. I watched that good person, Vegas transform slowly into a rather horrible living being, and I still loved him, and I still do. I always will.

Whether if he was a horrible person, or a good person he was still Vegas.

And, I couldn't ever see

Vegas, as anything other than

Vegas.

I remember the night when his brothers committed suicide, along with my Porsche.

When we approached the cherry blossom tree they hung on, beautifully holding hands, necks tied in a row, all with a green leaf clover extracted in their mouths. Like an art piece. Vegas fell to his knees, instantly. The expression that was casted on his face was horrid, nauseatingly unbearable. I remember his mouth, the way it swung to the floor like a carpet, was mind unsettling, so wide and empty, I couldn't even see his teeth. It was like a dark orb. His eyes licked back to the top of his eyebrows, scorching red, venomous, drowned in disbelief. The color tone of his face was not alive, it was dead. He turned to black. He didn't cry once. His unidentifiable face cried for him instead, over and over again. He kept his face like that for weeks, over weeks. Never blinking an eye.

And, that's the episode that made Vegas go insane in the palace. Vegas went nonverbal, and blind for a year due to immense stress. Although he could walk, he decided and pinned not to. He wouldn't eat at all, even his favorite food, curry. This eventually caused his heart to forever be as weak, as it is now. He almost died, and that was what he hoped for. But, I did not let him have that joy, he conjured so much as he wanted to. He wasn't going to leave me, as long as I was still breathing.

Weeks after weeks, days after days that felt backwards.

Many tribal doctors from all over the world would come to the palace in search, to heal King Vegas Theerapanyakul. Some would call on spirits to dissolve the 'negative energies' constructing in his body, others would lay him on hot rocks on a very snowy winter day outside, to melt the sickness away. And, so many other bombarded techniques that never seemed to work, and they never did. I would stand by and watch those 'doctors' orchestrate nothing but nonsense, because I had to. Even though Vegas was nonverbal, he still talked, in ink, and paper demanding me to be by his side, always. There was no running away. He was so selfish, forcing me to watch him die slowly, only because he loved me. Did he really? Whom would want their lover, to feel, and witness such pain, only because they call it "love". His love wasn't my definition of love, but I couldn't go against his. Maybe mines wasn't the right definition, either. Who knows. It seems like everything was around perspective.

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Then, there was a night that changed it all forever. It was a very cold winter night. Vegas was still nonverbal, still blind, and still refusing to eat. He was as weak, as he could ever be. But, he demanded one last thing that night in ink, and paper, sliding it right underneath my skirt. What a tender, hard touch that found its place to my warm cock.

As I slipped my hands underneath my skirt, finding the note it read: "succumb me." He wanted intimacy, he wanted to feel me, touch me, or it. Play with me all night long.

And, so until the sun came up the next morning I rode his dick like a horse, milked in stamina. Listening to his hoarse moans, singing to me all night long, as I applaud.

Heads tilting to the golden roof cupped upon their heads, like a hat. Naked cold bodies rubbing, and rocking against each other like hands in need of heat. Curled toes from the hitting orgasms screaming in their legs, and instruments. Long snake tongues from slurping all remaining cums that rivered in the others mouth. Shaking minds, and shaking rooms, and shaking the earth from its sanity. Fucking each other endlessly. And, like that Vegas spoke. "P-pete." Pouring all his cum from out his dick like a fountain, mercifully. Pete healed Vegas that night, without even knowing it. "D-did you just speak!?"

"D-did you just make me cum?" Vegas laughs, throwing his head into Pete's legs.

"Thank you."

And, since that day Vegas was sick no longer. He talked again, his vision returned, and he started eating food, including his favorite curry. He was truly alive. Vegas felt like he was retrieved of everything that was slowly killing him, and he knew it was all, because of Pete Phongsakorn. And, on that day he decided that he would worship Pete, like he was a god, forever. Pete was his god, it was what he saw him as. Forever. "I love you, Pete. I will always love you...Thank you for saving my life, for saving me. I will forever worship you." He kissed the feet of Pete Phongsakorn.

"Was this where the obsession began?"

"No, but it is where it increased, woefully."

"Why, not?"

"You see, Vegas was always deeply obsessed with me. I just do not know of the 'origin' where it began, but it was always there."

"And, what happened after that day?"

"He would throw me celebration parties, every day, and every night."

"Celebration parties?"

"Yes, they were filled with men, and women of every background. Well, naked men, and naked women of every background. We, HE would have public orgies.

With all those plentiful human bodies."

"Why?"

"It was a way of celebrating me, he said."

"How did it make you feel?"

"Dead."

"Dead?"

"He made a fool out of me. But, he made a bigger fool out of himself..and he made me watch."

"Pete..."

"I saved him.

But, what I didn't know...was that I actually killed him."

"He worshipped my body, the sex, the foreign touch of his dick up my ass. The cum it gave him.

Not me."

"Vegas Theerapanyakul."

"Vegas Theerapanyakul."

"

Whether if I was good or bad, did it matter? No, it didn't. It shall not matter, because I am the king. And, who opinionated head thoughts restrain me, shall not. I won't allow it, as long as my name is written on my throne. I am the King of Thailand, I am the King. And, I am perfect. Everything I shall do, as I live on as the king will be perfect. It doesn't have to, it will be. I am King Vegas! I have no regrets, no memories, no sorrow. I pain nothing. I live in the moment, that is where my head thoughts live, and absorb. Hate me if you shall, but remember you are no different. We are the same.

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I have servants, and slaves, and concubines, and riches, and men, and plentiful women, and food, and life. I have it all. The world is all that I have. I don't feel what I don't have, I feel what I do have. And, that's everything. They want me to break down, and destroy myself for their own pleasures, and own sanity that is driving them insane. But, I won't have it. I won't live by their expectations that they kill theirselves by, every single living sun and moon. I will live, I say I will live! I will live like the sun and moon! I will be non like the dust that remains by. You look at me like I'm a beast, well I am a beast. And, I love it. You created me, ole faithful master, oh hail by your name! You are my creator, oh I shall bow your commands! Oh, you sanctioned me for the hell I was paved for, oh thank you! Master, Master! I am alive, in your skin, breathing in your heat, and your cold. Can you feel me? Like I feel you? You've turned me to the darkness, and now you turn me to the light? What confusion rides the bones in your skull?

They call me Taboo, and I say thank you. I am drugged in lust, and sin, and men. This I know of very well. But, I won't stop.

I am the hand that wrote the devils story,

and so I shall finish it. If there is no more ink, I shall bleed.

You want to burn alone, I won't allow it. We are destined to burn together, Pete Phongsakorn. While I hold your hands, and you hold mine.

So, when my eyes met you looking at that bald boy, with those eyes, those eyes, that I knew so little. I wanted to kill you right there, and then. And, I will. How dare you like a lunatic jump over this fine piece of rich couch, and spread your arms to the poor boy on that floor, and embrace all of him? You embrace all of him, as I watched! All of him, my love! All of him. You didn't once look back at me? How dare you, you imbecile. My love, I gave you fame. I gave you money. I sold out your shows, I made your name 'taboo' known. I fucked you, and I memoirs you whine my name, over and over again under the gold ceilings. I gave you life! I gave you my heart, and soul! And, you betray me? How dare you, Pete. My love, you have offended me greatly, so sourly. It makes my nose itch, you smell.

Clean you were, how did you become so dirty overnight, so? Ha. You've played me well, haven't you, my darling angel? And, I like a lunatic, insane of such mastery levels of yours, I've become enchanted in your spell. I should spit on your face, paint a picture of adultery. I've awaken from my grave, twice now, and I'm not going back to sleep, Pete. The next time I visit my grave, you're coming with.

You don't even know me, because if you did you would know I don't like to be embarrassed. I will kill whomever that embarrasses me, in front me. I do not, and shall not care.

As I pulled onto your hair, my love. Threatening such sweet, candid words into your ears, I felt the sweat of your scalp in my palms. I had all authority over you, I was your comb, unknotting every piece of you. I loved it. I didn't care about the tears that wandered your face, like feet. I didn't care about what you were in this moment, I only cared about stuffing you with my sin. The two of you, souls intertwining like a women's stomach to her baby, was humanity. Watching the two of you on that glass floor, feeling each other, aroused me rashly. It was humanity. The look of terror, and tears that drained that bald boys eyes, was lucid. The instant revolt of Pete, dashing, flying to his side was sexy. They were the humanity. They were the doves that swam in a white pond. I wanted that humanity, and I was going to taste it.

I pierced my mouth against Pete's ear, and spoke "You want to fuck him right?" I said grinning. Well, today was your birthday, because you were going to. Clap, clap, clap everyone clap! Everyone clap for humanity's fuck boys! They will be our circus! I pulled back on Pete's hair harder, "Well, you're going to fuck him, and I'm going to watch!" I parade my hands with claps, to the enjoyment I was about to receive, willingly.

I could hear Pete's hitch voice whispering back to that bald boy, ignoring me completely. "do not cry." Why would he cry!? Is his eyes so drowned of tears, that they overflow much? Will they break the floor of glass? I have eyes that drowns of many tears too, Pete. But, you wouldn't care. You wouldn't dare to, even if I were to dare you to. What a shame. I was overflowed much too. Now, I'm dried. What a bigger shame. I slowly let go of my loves scalp, and push him with a flick of my wrist, to the servants. Now facing his once warm face.

I open my lips, "I don't care." I shrug, delightfully, sending him away. "...take him to the red room." Pete's face went completely dumb, eyes dropping to the floor, he was hectic. A dysfunctional art piece. His body proportion, faint of firmness. Mouth silent, and tied back. Something was off about Pete, he didn't seem like my Pete. No matter how upset he was in this moment, he didn't once look at me. He kept his eyes on that lowly boy. It was almost like their eyes were dancing to one another. And, somehow I became the intruder, intruding their steps, and rhythms, and music. And, I love it. "Send him to the red room, I said!" I scream once again, glaring off to the servants. This revelation time, Pete started to protest. Screaming, scratching, biting the servants away in their flesh, hilarious. Screams of pain, painted this room of sour blue, injustice. Pete was delusional, he became the madman he often joked about. I loved this, oddity. It was unique, foreign like my dick up, and in his ass.

"Don't you touch him! Vegas!" Pete screamed continuously as the servants dragged him out of the room, eyeing me down in such villainous demeanor, I would fuck him right now, if he kept looking at me like that. But, I had decorum to say the least. "Really hot, Pete, you're making me wet." I flicked my tongue with my finger, I was lethal.

I laughed at the deliberate scene, that was unbelievable. It needed a story.

You wanted me to feel bad, well guess what?

You failed.

You are truly the madman.

Who knew that Pete was actually crazy. He was crazy in the palace, but outside too? How could he? How dare he? How could he be so crazy in the outside world? When he wanted so much not to be. What a fun. I thought he could control these appetites for insanity so well, but really he couldn't. He can not. But, why? He did so well at faking it before and believing it, but why not now? I scanned my eyes around the play sharply, looking for the prize that awoken my Pete's senses to his true nature. And, as I searched, my eyes darted to the lowly boy, flooding the floor drastically with his blue useless eyes. "There." He was the sentiment cause of Pete's beautiful downfall.

I walk up to bald boy, sexy shifting my waist to the left and to the fucking right, brushing my hair back with my hands seductively, and curling a strand of hair in my face with a wet finger. Then, slowly bending down closely to the defrauding boy, I did. As I looked at him, analyzing, his eyes were lost in the back of his mind, not paying my presence any attention. Even when I put on a show, just walking here? Irritated by the empty reaction, I bring my wet finger to his chin, bringing his ugly face up to me. "Hey." I say once his eyes met mines, with such a cold undertone. His blue eyes were filled with a weird innocence, they were like butterflies, free. Fuck them. When I found Pete two months ago on that distant cornfield, he had the same look in his eyes, butterflies. What was I looking at? Was I looking at a lowly boy, or Pete Phongsakorn?

They both confused me, dearly. They seemed of the same person, he even reeked of my Pete. I drew my eyebrows towards him. As I held his chin, I noticed he was shaking grossly, his long eyelashes flickering restlessly. What did he know? I was intimidating him, scaring him, giving him shakes and whimpers, I was his nightmares. I was the devil, and he knew it. "You make me sick." I say, smiling widely to the lowly boy underneath me. I was going to demolish him, tear him into little pieces to feed to the pigs- "..thank you." This lowly boy, spoke to me. He said this, while smile abruptly. What?

"what?" I ask, not believing the words that left his mouth, so suddenly. Thank you? Thanking me for what? The way I am about to cut your uterus open, as you watched me eat it?

"Sir, your golden presence is my malice." He spoke rather softly, eyeing me up like a tiger ready to jump.

"Oh." He wanted to die, and I was going to give him that gift. I straightened my posture, cleared my voice, and left my wet finger from his teary chin.

"Oh."

He was intriguing I won't lie, but not too intriguing, not fully intriguing, and that bored me. I hated half interesting people, what can I say, I have a sweet preference. "I guess you don't make me as sick as before, you interest my thoughts."

"Well, afraid I can't say the same, sir." The lowly boy spoke one last time, his presence filled of nonchalant ignorance. This dirty pig was a mind player. But, not a better player then I. I snicker.

I aggressively pull his head back, laying it in my lap. "You dirty, dirty, insolent boy." I whisper softly into his eyes, as he smiled that ugly smile, that he smiles.

"..not, and never as dirty as you, sir." He winks. I tilt my head, at that response that lingered off his lips, and eye. I watched the movement of his eyes, they fidget calmly. I am impressed.

"Oh." Maybe he wasn't boring, maybe I lying to myself. This intriguing asshole, was infinite. A puzzle piece, I already figured out so well.

"I will kill you like it's nothing, like I have before." He says. What did he think he was doing, scaring me? Ha. Funny, but cute. His little 'kill you', didn't move mountains, and so it wouldn't move me. And, if it did move mountains, and even the seas..I would still repel him, with a foot up his throat.

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