Pain & Pleasure

I WANT TO SAY THAT THE BOOK “PAIN AND PLEASURE” IS A BOOK INTENDED FOR ADULT READERS (AGES 18+), SO SOME SCENES IN THE BOOK MAY BE UNCOMFORTABLE FOR YOUNG READERS, SO BE CAREFUL AND READ RESPONSIBLY.

I ALSO WANT TO EMPHASIZE THAT IN THIS BOOK, THE MAIN CHARACTERS WILL BE A PSYCHOPATH AND A MASOCHIST, SO THIS IS A DARK NOVEL. ALTHOUGH BLACK HUMOR WILL BE USED HERE, SOME SCENES MAY STILL BE UNACCEPTABLE FOR SOME READERS, SO, I REPEAT, READ RESPONSIBLY.

AND THE LAST THING. THIS IS A GAY STORY, SO IF YOU DON’T LIKE THAT BOOK, DON’T READ IT.

THANK YOU!

EVEN SO, I HOPE YOU LIKE THE BOOK AND ENJOY IT.

THIS IS THE FIRST PART OF THE “PSYCHOPATHIC LOVE STORY” SERIES.

You know that feeling when you realize that you've got yourself into a real mess because of your fucked-up situation? Yes? Well, then, congratulations, because that's exactly the mess I'm in right now.

I'd like to blame everyone else, my environment, my parents, him... But I realize that I wanted it myself. So now I have to suffer because of my own ill-considered decisions.

How I hate it when this happens, I tell myself in my mind.

I toss and turn in bed, hoping that it will suddenly become more comfortable, but alas, it doesn't. Realizing that nothing good will come of it, I get up, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I look around the room. Although it's not too bad, it could have been better. One double bed, one wardrobe for storing clothes, a table and a chair. Above it is a bookcase with books, most of which seem to be detectives or thrillers.

At least he has good taste, I mentally praise the person who has been keeping me here for who knows how long.

Suddenly, the door opens and a light pours in, painting my room with colors that don't go together.

A person enters through the door. A man. His brown curly hair matches his amber eyes, which are stuck into me like two knives.

I swallow hard as the man steps closer to me.

"Hello, Tyler," the guy greets in a calm voice, sitting down next to me.

I look at him intently. It seems he has nothing he can hurt me with. The guy catches my eye and smiles broadly. His creepy and cold smile distorts his handsome face. For the first time, I notice that his lower lip is slightly larger than his upper lip. I suddenly want to bite it.

God, get a grip, Tyler, I’m scolding myself for thinking that.

“Hi,” I say dryly.

“You know,” the guy says, after a few minutes of silence. “I was expecting a little more energy from you. I helped you.

“You helped me?” I ask, frowning even more. A small crease appears between my eyes that I can feel. “How did you help me?” I ask, my voice slightly aggressive, but he doesn’t seem to be scared by my tone at all. It only pleases him even more.

Psycho, I mutter to myself.

“Well, you know,” he begins. “If it weren’t for me, you probably would have been in jail. But I helped you. I saved you.” “It reminds me.”

My face darkens.

Exactly, I remember, if it weren’t for him, I would have been arrested.

The guy grins even wider, considering my inner contradiction to himself, and leans closer. His lips are almost next to mine. My heart almost stops for a moment from his proximity, but I don't move because of the blackness of the nail. No. I'm somehow satisfied with his pathetic action.

"You have to get up," the man says suddenly, standing up from my bed and spreading his arms wide, firmly resting on the floor.

"And why?" I retort to him, although I know that this will suffocate him to death, but I definitely won't let myself be fooled and go anywhere with him until I find out where he wants to take me. I'm not that stupid.

"I said stop," he repeats, his voice more stern this time.

"And I said no." I'm not giving in to him, knowing that I'm making a huge mistake.

The guy steps closer to me, clearly threatening, but I remain unmoved by his action and only raise one eye up.

Finally, he just laughs a dark laugh.

“Well,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “I expected you to be smarter, but if you’re going to play like this, then…” before I finish my sentence, he grabs my wrists tightly and squeezes them.

A soft sigh escapes my throat.

“Oh my God, what’s wrong with you?!” I shout angrily, but it seems it’s too late to talk to him normally.

The man drags me out of the room.

“You didn’t listen to me. So you’re a bad boy. And do you know what bad boys get?” he asks, pausing for a moment.

“And what?” I worry, mocking him a bit.

The boy leans so close to my face that I can almost hear his heart beating.

"Punishment." He says. "They get punished. Only now you have to choose what punishment you will choose..."