An Encounter With The Devil

"No… No. Please don't follow me. Please, not you," Jiminie chanted as he rushed up the stairs to his room. 

He had been with the boys, again, and just like usual, they talked of his insane beauty, how perfect his lips were, and how anyone would be lucky to be his partner. They described every part of his body, letting him know just how they saw him and what they could use him for. 

They weren't subtle about it and that was the scariest part about it all. He was used to them sexualizing him, but today, it went overboard and he rushed to his room. He couldn't take it anymore, especially with their touches and lusty faces. They all wanted him. That shit scared him and reminded him for the first time they had been in the same room. 

Members of a seven-boy idol group, and the best in the world, they were on everyone's lips. Everyone talked about the greatest boyband in the world, but none was more talked of than Jiminie. He had watched some of the fan edits and each time he was stuck in a pool of maybes. He always wanted them to see him as a person and while some did that, most of them talked about how effeminate and beautiful he was. 

To them, he was the greatest and deadliest of all sins. His beauty was insane for a man and he was everything many wanted. Many talked of how he would taste and whether his ass could take dicks. Others wondered if he ever put his dick to use, and that scared him. Fans were supposed to be there for them, but then even Jiminie couldn't deny that he was a beautiful man. He was insanely perfect, with plump lips that seemed to beg for someone who could kiss him. 

His milky untainted skin was smooth and delicate. Oh, but Jiminie looked perfect in every way. He was prettier than most girls and he had noticed that some talked of how beautiful he would look if he had breasts and a pussy. They made him feel like an object more than he had wanted to. 

"Please, not today," Jiminie whimpered as he rushed to close the door to his room.

He didn't want HIM coming through. He wouldn't take it. He couldn't handle what HE would do to him. Of all the boys, HE was the one who stared at him with the lustiest of looks, like Jiminie was an object of his desires and at the same time, an object of his ire. It was the look of hate and lust, with nothing in between and Jiminie had to endure it all. 

HE always looked at Jiminie like the boy was something else, and could make a perfect pet for him. HE looked like he could kill anyone who looked at Jiminie the wrong way in public, and when they were in the confines of their shared apartment, he was the man who wanted Jiminie the most. 

"You know I have the master key, sweetheart," HE said, and Jiminie whimpered. 

For years, Jiminie had a crush on the psycho of their little group. He loved how rough on the edges the psycho was. He loved how the psycho was perfect and everything. He loved, loved, and breathed everything about the psycho. The mattress he lay on, was sitting on photos of the band's psycho. He was dangerous in every way and it was no wonder that he scared everyone else. Perhaps that's why no one ever bothered to say yes to anything he said no to. 

When they were working on their music, the psycho was a good team member and listened to his members. He always commented on how angelic Jiminie's voice was. It wasn't a lie, because the world knew that too. Jiminie was literally what perfection looked like and they never tired in reminding the pretty boy. However, outside of their music, he was the danger that Jiminie needed to run away from. 

The psycho was interested in Jiminie and he was always staring at Jiminie. However, he never said a word. He never tried to touch Jiminie the wrong way. He never tried to defend anything. He always just sat there describing the perfection that was Park Jimin. If they didn't know any better, they would have assumed that the psycho was obsessed with Jiminie, but was he?

"Please, no," Jiminie whimpered again, but that didn't stop the psycho from pushing the door, and banging it, like he wanted to break the door. 

"Well then, let it be known that I asked politely and you refused," the psycho said as he stepped back from the door. 

Jiminie knew it was a trick. 

He knew it so well and he hated it. 

This psycho was so similar to what Jiminie's father always did. Each time his father came to his room, he would make sure Jiminie never locked the door. He would come and fuck the boy without consent, and then walk out, leaving the boy drenched in his father's cum. The boy would be warned to never say a word to his mother or he would be thrown to the streets. 

Oh, but Jiminie knew what pain was in every way, so right now, when he heard what the psycho had said, he knew what was coming next. He contemplated lying in a room without doors, but he couldn't. That would be too easy for the boys to watch him. That door was his only sense of security away from everyone. It was the only thing that stood between him and the six boys who walked around with erect dicks staring at him like they always wanted to fuck him. 

They never hid their advances and while they never made a move Jiminie always lived in fear that someday, the friends he had made in the band, would turn against him and use him as a cum doll. He was scared that someday, their comments about how beautiful he looked like a Barbie doll would force them to act on their desires. 

"Okay… I'll open it. Just please, don't break down the door," Jiminie said as he turned the lock on the door, and pushed it open to reveal a scared boy, and a psycho who was defiled with lust. 

Jiminie wasn't sure what the psycho wanted with him because the man never really did anything to him. He was crazy and always had outbursts but even then, the psycho never really acted on the obvious desire. Hell, even now, as he stood there watching Jiminie with a smirk on his face, there was a tent on his pants. 

'God, he had a big dick,' Jiminie thought to himself. 

At that thought however, Jiminie felt himself swallow thickly. He wanted to resist those ideas, but then he had a crush on the band's psycho. There was never going to be a reprieve for him ever.

"Good boy," the psycho said as he walked in, ignoring Jiminie who was wondering what he wanted more than time. There were days when the psycho came to his room, but he always came to study, because Jiminie was always the quietest one in the group. So, staying in Jiminie's room was good for his college exams and Jiminie never complained.

"Shut the door, Pretty," the psycho said and Jiminie sighed. He didn't have that many options.

"I'm sorry," Jiminie blurred out and the psycho, who was currently sitting on Jiminie's bed, and sniffing his pillow looked at him with lusty yet considered eyes. He wasn't sure what the pretty boy was apologizing for, but he didn't care. The world could burn and the psycho could only add more fuel to ruin it all. That was how much he hated everything. 

"I honestly don't care," the psycho said before he grabbed Jiminie's pillow and went to sit on Jiminie's study table and turned on the computer, putting on headphones, ignoring the panicked boy in the room. His actions were always strange, but today they had to be the strangest of them all. If all he wanted was to come and read, he could have easily knocked like a normal person and spoken like normal people did. But then he wasn't normal. He never would be, and that's something everyone knew.