Love Beyond Boundaries (man×man)

LGBT+ Writing Contest

Elijah Wright is a worker in LGBT Male Dungeons. He only witnessed the cruelty of the world. For him bonding is just a physical relation.

But what happens when Vincent Carson, the deadliest and the most feared Mafia finds a sudden interest in Elijah?

What will happen when two different personalities and world will collide?

"How about you start with why people are so scared of you."

"I see, dearest Elijah, that your mind has already guessed the answer. Come on, say it out loud." I shook my head, suddenly anxiousness crawling my skin. My mind had guessed the deadliest job. He always does this. He always make me answer my own questions.

"Oh, come on," He was taunting me. His silver orbs dangerously bored into my dull amber eyes. I gulped the fear, looking into his dicey orbs.

"You wo-work for the Maf-Mafia," He cackled so hard that even my dusky skin burned into crimson. I glared at the seat, my fists clenched and he was taking amusement into my stammering and the words. I knew I was wrong. Mafia doesn't exist anymore. He was just a businessman. Just a—

"I am the Mafia. The boss of the Italian mob."

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Life in a sex dungeon
Like and comment if you like this story. Please let me know what you think about this book.  Elijah The darkness within my barely called room was embracing my dark soul. The lamp kept at the table glowed, letting me see a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My amber eyes had lost its light. They were lifeless, fearless and dull. What can a person lose more than himself? I forgot when was the last time I smiled. I even forgot the last time I laughed. Snorted? Yes. Scoffed? Yes. Chuckled? Maybe. But laughed? I forgot. The similar void in my chest deepened with every passing day. I had no one, not even myself to soothe my aching heart. People often mistake loneliness as losing friends and loved ones, but real loneliness occurs when you start losing yourself. When you call out for your soul and all you get is deafening silence. The door cracked open, letting another bundle of light inside my room. Dan, my Boss walked in. His dark eyes lowered to my nearly naked self. Lust swirled in his dark eyes— eye-raping me from the door. He was almost two inch shorter than me. His belly was protruding out of his red shirt. His bald head was shining under the light. We all are gay here, lusting over men than women. Craving p*****s more than v*****s. A small smirk slipped on my lips. Lust. His body shouted. He wanted me, he had always wanted me so bad. He licked his upper lip, almost sensually, trying hard to seduce me. Poor guy, he disgusted me. But he doesn't need to know that, though my actions elucidated it fairly. I walked over to him, slowly, teasingly. I could already see the bulge in his pants and I hadn't even touched him yet. "You want me to pleasure you, don't you?" His dark eyes widened, lips parted. I rolled my eyes walking beside him. You got it right. I'm a gay. But my taste still remains superior. And I am forced to be a prostitute in this LGBT s*x Dungeon, owned by him. "But I don't pleasure the dumpsters. Sad, right?" His lips curled in a snarl. His eyes narrowed at my disrespect. After all, he owned this dungeon. And he thinks that he can own me too. His fingers reached out to grip my throat in his disgustingly slimy fingers. "Sometimes, I really wish to chop that smart tongue of yours, or, better kill you." He tsked, jerking his hand back to himself in distaste. "Go ahead." I challenged him. My bare muscles flexed to prove my worth. "Unfortunately, they like screamers. They like a worthless slut like you. Only if you wouldn't have been worth a millions for a single day, I would've killed you, already." I chuckled darkly, leaning against the wall. My bare skin coming in contact with the rough paint. His eyes lingered over my chest than to the boxers I wore, before settling back to my eyes. He wanted to f**k me. He wanted me to beg him. I rolled my eyes at his absurd thoughts. "You moaned different tales few nights ago, Dan." His face reddened with anger. His lips tried to imitate a malicious snarl, which looked more like constipated expression. It was hard to keep my amusement contained within me. "It's Master Dan to you, bitch." "It's funny, you call me a b***h, when you went on all your fours few nights ago. Remember, Dan?" I crossed my limit with the fat, bald, obnoxious man, I know. He raised his palm, hitting me across my face. The demon inside me snarled to rip his limbs off. But the saner part knew, Dan was the incharge. How much I defied and acted smart, he did kidnap and forced me. For someone if kidnapping is a small thing, killing won't be a difficult task. The sound of his palm clapping against my pale skin resonated through the small room loudly. His impact hurt less than the harsh sound that rung in the room. I smiled sweetly, as much as my inner demon wanted to kill him. Relax, Elijah, I spoke mentally. The red print on my cheek glowed under the dim light, letting his ego boost. "Look, how beautifully my mark is glowing on your face. You belong to me. You are my mine. No more retorts now, b***h?" Only if you saw the scars on my souls, you'll go blind just from intensity of my pain. "You can claim my body forcibly, Dan but you can't own my heart. And as for retorts and sarcasm, they are for high IQ's not for obese and thick sculls. You won't get it old man." Before he could've hit me or hurt me again another man walked in. His eyes lingered at me for a moment before settling on Dan. "Master Dan," He started nervously, glancing at me worriedly. "There's a man downstairs and demands your presence right now." "Tell them to f**k off, I'll ruin this little minx, first. He's forgetting his f*****g place." I snorted, leaning against the wall once again. "You can't. I basically provide you 75 percent of the money, Dan. Ruin me and get yourself f****d. Choice is yours. But like I said, you're obese and thick headed—" "Master Dan," Ali started again, urgency seeping his voice. "It's Mister Carson, Sir, downstairs." His whole stance trembled at the name of the mysterious person. My eyes narrowed at the sweat that formed on his forehead. It was hilarious, how he forced his powers on me and others but trembled badly just at the name of this mysterious Carson. Curiosity bubbled inside me, wanting to know more about this Mister Carson. "Tell him, I'm out of the country." The urgency in his voice couldn't hide the fear his eyes held. I never saw Dan so blanched before. It was an interesting sight for my lifeless eyes. "Sorry, Master Dan, but Bruce told Mister Carson, Sir, that you're upstairs, dealing with a prostitute." Ali spoke, looking at me warily. You didn't hurt me, Ali boy. I wanted to reassure him but stood silently. "I'll kill that traitor once I get a hold of his useless arse." I rolled my eyes. Nothing, not even his anger could hide his fear. He was going to piss his pants. A sudden rush of satisfaction hit my bones, I was happy. It's always satisfying to see a sadist, scared. Dan huffed before walking downstairs, slamming the iron door behind him. - - - I was lying down, trying to catch some sleep, I so badly needed when the door opened again. I groaned in annoyance. What the hell now? How can someone be so horny all the damned day? I rolled to my side to see Ali standing at the door with a serious expression painted on his face. "Eli, you need to pleasure him," the way his eyes eyes widened at the reference of "him", didn't go unnoticed by me. "Else, he'll burn you alive." I highly doubted that he'd skin me alive. I rolled my eyes, leaning against my rough mattress. "I don't pleasure anyone, Ali. They pleasure themselves by torturing us." I started, making him frown. "As for death, it's still a better choice than dying everyday with a palpating heart, right?" "It hurts me to see you so broken, Eli." I shook my head, scoffing. "I may be broken now, Ali, but my pieces are still inside me. The day I scatter my broken pieces, only Devil knows how many will bleed." He shook his head, leaving the door open. Only after a minute or so, I heard footsteps approaching me. My mind went blank, my emotions getting numbed, as I prepared my body for another ruthless torture. Another unregistered and unknown rape. Another sacrifice, for another pain. It's easier to numb your emotions, rather crying over it all day. I turned around, once the door closed behind him. I was awestruck at the man in front of me. He was dressed in a blue shirt and dark jeans, that almost looked invisible in the dim light of my lamp. His stormy silver eyes, captivated my amber ones, swallowing my existence at once. He was almost four inches taller than me, towering me easily. His muscles ripped through his overcoat. He was lean yet built. My natural muscles were nothing in front of him. His sandy hair fell lazily over his forehead. His pale skin glowed under the dim light. I never froze in my life before. But he, he made me freeze in a second. His stormy, cold eyes, held dominance, power and pride. He was tensed but he gave away nothing except that one brief glance at my body. He was a gay. I could tell at how his eyes roamed free over my nearly naked self. But then they settled back on my amber eyes. I never felt intimidated before, he was different. The way his hands were folded backwards, his forehead had no creases, I knew he was one powerful man. Dominance. Only those who fear things getting out of their control tried to dominate others. They don't want to overpower others to boast their powers but to convince themselves that the power is in their grasp. They are the most submissive in nature. They're the most scared species, you'll ever come across. I pitied them. "What's your name, boy?" I snorted. I was barely a boy. At the age of twenty one, I experienced things, people often trembled at just its thought. "And since when did the name mattered while f*****g, Mister?" His eyes narrowed at my nonchalant answer. He wasn't used to the back answering, I could tell by the way his fist clenched dangerously at his side. I enjoyed playing with fire, I agree. "Since I asked it." I tsked, leaning across my rough mattress. "Sadly, you're not in power here, pretty boy." He raised one of his brow in response. "Yeah?" I hummed, pressing my palms against the table beside my bed. "You're fiery." I snorted, getting up from my bed. His eyes followed every moment of my body. But there wasn't any lust in them. Even if, he felt anything, he did a good job at hiding it. "What can I say? They all like it rough. But if you want me to go gentle, all you've to do is just ask." I mocked him with a sly smirk. "Though, I can't guarantee the gentleness." He shook his head, his stormy orbs still focused on mine. "I am not here for a f**k," he spoke firmly, his rough voice chilling my bones. I looked at him in confusion. "Not at least, when you don't want it." I rose my eyebrows at his words. He won't touch me cause I didn't want to. And since when did our say mattered? It was so foreign to my ears that it almost hurt to hear. "And since when did our consent started to matter, huh?" "Since you met me." I scoffed, leaning against the wall. "You know—" I trailed off when he suddenly pounced at me. His hot finger tracing the outlines of Dan's print on my cheek. His silver eyes darkened with fury. I flinched at how hot his touch was against my cold skin. As if his touched burned me. Flames erupted inside him. He felt different. He was different, I could tell. And the mere thought made my insides ache. "Who did this?" I almost shivered under his intimidating gaze. He towered me easily through his height and muscles but something about his touch was so gentle. When I remained silent, or more like, mystified in his spell. His other hand looped across my bare waist, holding me firmly yet gently. The way his fingers were grasping my waist, I felt electricity jolting through them. His fingers then traced the outlines on my neck from where Dan squeezed my neck. "I asked," he gritted out, his patience wearing thin by my deafening silence. "Who did this?" I sighed, jerking myself out of his grasp. I turned away, narrowing my eyes at his domineering behavior. "I am not a teacher or an engineer, Mister. I'm a prostitute. These marks and scratches are common for us." His eyes darkened with rage, anger but he kept maintaining his silence. "Stop messing around. Now tell me, what would you like to do? Pound me? Or the other way around. I don't mind either." He shook his head, running an exasperated hand through his sandy locks. He for once looked helpless. His eyes softened, his finger tracing my bruise with his feathery touch. I almost shivered with an unfamiliar emotion. "I'm not here to rape you, boy." He sighed, bringing his hand down. "I won't touch you until you really want it." I chuckled darkly. The feelings and emotions that I really wanted numb started to resurface, wounding my already bleeding heart. How much his words reminded me about my harassment. About the injustice done with me and many others. "Look, for the society I maybe a low life scum, but, I'm not a charity case. Dan must've took a ransom amount from you. Just tell me what do you want? Anything, really." His stormy eyes once again narrowed in annoyance. "I haven't paid a single penny for you, boy. And that piece of s**t, is under my debt." My eyes widened, suddenly the reality of the men standing in front of me hit me like a truck. "As for you, you're way too precious for me to bid money on you." I felt my breath hitching at his words. Playing, he's just playing, Elijah. I mumbled mentally. "Who the hell are you?" He folded his arms against his chest. His silver orbs shunning with amusement. "You know me. Just a little guess, darling boy. You're close." I swallowed. For the first time, I felt intimidated. "Vin-Vincent Carson." He hummed, with a small smile and I almost lost it. His silver eyes softened, the affection swirling within them seemed so foreign. He felt so foreign to me. He was gentle, even with words and thoughts. I felt his smile piercing my chest painfully. The small crinkle at the edge of his left eye grabbed my attention. "You know my name. It's only fair, if I know yours too." Why the hell did he look so dead set on knowing my name. My silence only widened his smile and he chuckled, shaking his head. "It will take only ten minutes or even less to know about you but I'll really appreciate if you'd tell me yourself." I gulped. Was it an innocent statement or a vicious threat? I didn't knew. But my heart was beating abnormally for sure. "Eli—Elijah Wright." He titled his head, nodding his head slowly. "Elijah." I took a deep breath when my name rolled of his tongue. He caressed my name so gently that I almost felt it's touch penetrating deep through my soul. He opened the door, maybe to leave, when Dan suddenly started walking upwards. Disgust started growing inside me at the sight of him. I never hated anyone as much as I hated him. No, I loathed him. "Mr. Carson, Sir." Dan spoke smiling tentatively. "I hope you enj—" Crack. Vincent Carson's fist collided with Dan's face, eliciting a sharp cry from Dan. Before he could've regained from the sudden attack. His knee slammed against his abdomen, making Dan roll over in pain. Men gathered around us, but none of them dared to stop him. They looked scared, feared and some happy, even. I, however, enjoyed it. The pain I felt my whole life because of him was overpowering my senses. I wanted to him to suffer and I didn't even deny it. "Sir, Mr. Carson—" He kicked him again, making him fall on the concrete painfully. That must have hurt. He gripped Dan's shirt, jerking him to his feet. He slammed his bleeding frame against the wall. Dan clenched his eyes from pain and his so evident fear. "Look at me." His calm voice curled my toes. My heart picked it's pace and he wasn't even referring to me. The authority in his voice was so intense that Dan snapped opened his eyes. "Be thankful that I'm not sure, yet that the bruises on Elijah's body is inflicted by you. But the day I realize, it was you, this," he waved his hand to bloody form with disgust, "will feel like a love tap." With that he slammed his head against the old wall, making blood ooze out of his head. I swallowed at his threatening words. I witnessed violence so many time but the sight of blood almost made me puke. The way his silver orbs narrowed dangerously, my heart leaped in reaction. I froze in my place when he turned towards me. His gaze softened when they landed on me. I didn't knew what I did to deserve his generosity. But I won't lie, it felt good. Someone caring for you, especially when everyone used you feels scary but warm. "Until next time, Elijah."

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