Date: Thu, 2 Nov 2017 02:31:44 -0500
From: Riddle Riddle <11littleriddler@gmail.com>
Subject: Cutie 1

Cutie.

        By Riddle.


        If you would like to speak with me, or discuss any aspects of my
story, please contact me at "littleriddler@gmail.com." Thank you.


        And of course, to all Nifty Readers, if you enjoy this story or
anything else on this beloved website, please donate at
"http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html." Even a small amount is an act of
kindness, that will help keep this wonderful website continuing.



        And of course, given by the website title, and the genre and
sexuality this is marked under, this story will contain highly explicit
sexual activity between two young men, as well as an actual romance. I am
not forcing you to read it, and if you feel it disturbs you or you are too
young to be reading it, please, leave now. However, keep in mind that this
story is not just sex, and there is a plot to it. Thank you! :)


Also, note: This takes place in the future, in a different society, with a
different sort of culture, clothing, and technology. Hope this clarifies
some details.


-Riddle



Chapter 1


        My head pulsed like a million men had took hold of it and were
attempting to pull it apart.


        Of course I mean this figuratively, but you get the jist.


        The air of the restaurant was so dense with perfume, the music so
loud, that I could barely breathe, let alone think. The fact that mother
felt this was an adequate place to dine was beyond me, though she always
liked extravagant things. Or maybe it was the fact that the menu had a
larger selection of wine and liquor than it did entrees. Yeah, it was
probably that. But if she truly wanted to attend "Lemphen's Winery" for our
Friday night meal, then I really have no say against it. She is my mother
after all.
        Of course, Severa and Gul were having the time of their lives. Now
that Severa and I were 18, she took every excuse she could to indulge in
wine. "Helps keep anxiety from dirtying her aura," or something like
that. Gul, though, he didn't like to drink. It was the atmosphere he
loved. He was my eldest brother, and yet I'd never met someone so different
than I. He thrived off of the energy of others, the way they spoke and
communicated, the rollercoaster of liquid emotion they experience in just a
single conversation. If they refused to speak, then he would speak for
them. And oh, he could speak quite well. I, however. I was...different.


        Not that there was anything particularly wrong with me. But I was
insecure and I was shy, and I preferred the companies of books over
others. And while there was nothing inherently wrong with that, our Kingdom
was not in love with the idea of introverts. Nevertheless, I thrived. In
fact, I thrived quite well, and had just received word earlier that day
that I would become an apprentice to Dr. SeLuna, a successful biological
engineer. No matter how out of place I may have been, I had a future ahead
of me, even if it was one predominately spent in a lab, clad with a white
coat and strap-on goggles. Yes, even so, it was something, something better
than what those on the other planet had. And for that, I was endlessly
happy.


        And so I sat pleasantly in my chair, tracing my spoon along the
remains of my appetizer, listening to the jovial ramblings of my two
siblings.


        Suddenly, a hand gently pressed my shoulder. Mother.


        "Sevren," she began, smiling wearily at me from tired, sagging
eyes. "Are you alright? You've been sitting there, fidgeting with your food
for the past five minutes."

        "Ah, am I?" I let out a chuckle. "I'm sorry, I have quite a lot on
my mind."


        "It's okay. I've just been worried about you. You've seemed so down
lately. I know you've had to do so much work, what with your apprenticeship
orientation and all. You're...okay with it, right? The
apprenticeship. You're not having second guesses or anything?"


        "No, mother." I replied, clasping onto her frail hand. "To be
honest, I'm thrilled I got the apprenticeship. I was worried that, with all
my mental health issues, the government wouldn't allow me to work within a
scientific field. But they did, and for that, I'm very, very thankful."


        "You are? You really, really are?"


        "Yes, mom, I am. I actually get to do something I like for a
living, and I can't imagine a better turnout."


        "Then...what is it?"


        "What is what?"


        "Why are you upset?"


        I sighed. "I'm not upset, mother. I'm just...tired. I've had a long
week."


        She raised her eyebrows, as if to imply that she knew better than
to believe me. "I'm certain it's not just that. You're usually chipper as a
mouse, even after a long week."


        "I'm telling you mom, it's really-"


        "Is it because of your engagement?"


        Ay, there's the rub. What was it with weathered women and seemingly
perfect intuition? Of course it was the engagement. Of course I did not
want to marry Loressa De'Attruse, or her closet full of vibrant hair dyes
and lipsticks. Of course, I did not find her romantically attractive in any
way shape or form. I did not hate her, but I was in no position to be
proclaiming my undying love for her and fucking her nightly. Of course, I
could bring to mind my repressed thoughts as to why I was not attracted to
a tall, lithe woman with chocolatey skin and the face of an angel. But I
wouldn't do that. No, I simply just didn't find her appealing, she just
wasn't my type of girl. Though it wasn't really my choice on the matter,
who I married. It was fathers, after all.


        "Perhaps." I replied, glancing down at my feet.


        "Do you really not like her? I know she may not be
as...intellectually focused as you are, but she's a kindhearted girl. And
she's so lovely, and talented at singing."


        "I know mother, I know. I just, would have preferred to have chosen
my wife. I'm only 18 after all..."

        "I know." Mother murmured, finally letting go of my arm to take a
wisp of her blood red wine. "But it's just how things are. We live in a
land where status power outweigh our thoughts and feelings. I was forced
into a marriage with your father. Severa will marry Lord Mulas the third,
and Gul, well...he is a monk, he does not have to marry should he not chose
to. But you could not handle life as a monk, my dear Sevren. There are too
many people involved!" She laughed, and downed far too much wine for a
fifty-four year old woman who has survived two organ transplants.


        "Yes, yes," I remarked, looking to see if there was any meat left
on my grilled deerish. There wasn't, what a shame. "I can hardly speak to
you, let alone anyone else on this planet."


        "And that is why, you must be married! Trust me, marriage forces
you out of your shell like a freshly plucked chicken. Even if you won't
like your spouse at first, you grow to. And we made sure you aren't
marrying a psychopath."


        "Yeah, I know, mom. I know," I grunted, although by then she had
already turned to speak with my sister.


        And really, I did know. I was given a wife suited for a king, at
least by classic definition. Loressa was pretty and an A class citizen. She
might be stingy and rude to other girls, but at least she was mentally
stable and relatively innocent. She claimed to be a virgin, although I
doubt she actually was, but I didn't care either way. The thought of
forcing myself into her smelly little fold repulsed me to the core no
matter it's state. Whether or not it was virginal was the least of my
worries.


        I begun to contemplate why I found vaginas so damned boring and
nasty in the first place, when I heard a voice behind me.


        "Your food is ready, sir," it - or rather, he - said, practically
speaking into my ear.


        To this day I'm not quite sure what about the voice was so
intriguing, but whatever it was, it got me out of my mental tangent. His
voice was rather deep, and very smooth, like someone had layered butter
over it. At the same time, it was almost raspy, as if he was out of
breath. It was beautiful, I can tell you that, and my idiotic self just
couldn't stop from turning around to see the owner of said voice.


        And when I did, I couldn't help but gawk.


        He stood leaning slightly on one foot, with a plate a food in
hand. He was tall - very tall - and had skin the color of caramel. What
race was he? I couldn't quite place it. He was wearing a server's garments,
but his sleeves were rolled up, revealing two very muscular forearms. The
garments themselves were fitted, and it didn't take a lot of imagination to
tell that this man was athletically inclined. He had broad shoulders, and a
torso that started very wide and slowly fell into a thin, elegant waist. If
I squinted I could make out the outline of his pectoral muscles, amongst
other things, through his shirt. Even his hands were attractive, large and
rough with a touch of hair on his knuckles. But it wasn't his body that
made me practically forget my own existence.


        It was his goddamn face.


        Surely it was physically impossible for a real man to have a face
that handsome. Surely I had never seen someone in person who looked like
that. But then again, this man was truly standing in front of me. His eyes
were angular and deep-set, earthy brown, with long, dark lashes. They were
large on his face, and reminded me faintly of a puppy's stare. His eyebrows
and straight nose framed his eyes perfectly, and as I continued to stare, I
noted that he was slightly freckled. His cheekbones were high and
prominent, his jaw was chiseled like a monument, and even his lips were
lovely, full and pink with a faint cupid's bow. He had no facial hair, and
looked to be about my age. His hair was dark brown, long, messy, and
straight, and fell almost past his chin. His tousled bangs fell slightly
into one of his eyes, which only further emphasized how vibrant and lovely
they were.


        He was almost ethereally lovely, and my eyes could not seem to pull
away.


        After what seemed to be an entirety, those lips of his turned up
into a coy grin.


        "Something on my face, good sir?" He asked, gazing straight into
my, likely very wide and pathetic looking, eyes.


        "A-ah...uh..n-no, sir. I-I must've space out." I stuttered, my face
becoming hot and itchy.


        "Is that so? Well, then there must be something on your face."


        "T-there is?"


        "Well, not really." His eyes crinkled with mischief. "It is very,
very red, though."


        "Ah!" I shouted, which earned a couple looks from another
table. "I-I apologize. Was I staring? Oh, my... I mean... you see I am a
bit awkward at times and I-"


        He let out a small chuckle. Oh, was it a holy sound. "It's okay, I
don't mind. Although, your food will get cold if you wait too long."


        "Oh, r-right. That's a thing. Food's a thing, I like food."


        "So do I," he responded, while laying my sauteed rice and
vegetables in front of me. Something about the way he said it sounded
awfully...promiscuous, though it may have just been the timbre of his
voice.


I was about to thank him for delivering my food, when he reached down and
murmured something in my ear.


"I'm Dante, by the way. I don't know your name, but I like your blonde
hair. Meet me at eight o'clock in the men's restroom on the far right, if
you like."


Before I could even voice a response, he whisked himself away. Even so, his
hot breath lingered on my neck, and I felt my heart beat as quick as a
mouse. I turned slightly to see where he had gone, but all I could make out
was a blur of his dark hair as he entered the kitchen. When he had truly
gone out my sight, I turned around again, and attempted to slowly inhale
and exhale through my diaphragm, as my therapist had suggested.


However, I couldn't manage to calm myself.  Not even in the slightest. Not
even an ounce or a morsel or a morsel of an ounce. The realization of what
had just happened to me washed over like a wave drowning an unexpecting
victim, and I couldn't even begin to touch my food.


What the hell had just happened? Was I reading too much into it? Of course
I was not. No one who wants to simply be your friend asks you to meet them
later on. But why? As tough as this man - Dante - looked, he didn't seem
set to harm me, or commit any act of thievery. He obviously was intimating
something flirtatious, but then what? Why? Why me? I was terribly
average. I hadn't even the self confidence to admit my own sexual
perversion, my stubborn attraction to my own sex, to myself, even when I
touched myself at night to thoughts of other men. Sure, I was not terrible
looking, but compared to him, I was a weak and feeble shadow. Maybe he
could sense my attraction to him, and wanted to expose me for who I really
am? Maybe he truly did reciprocate my desires? Maybe he...


Well, what did it matter? If the throbbing erection in my pants wasn't
enough of an indication, I didn't really have another choice. Whatever this
strange, elusive Dante had in mind when he said he wanted to meet me later,
I didn't care. Anything was more intriguing than speaking of gossip in a
room that smelled of sweat, rotten roses, and garlic at the same time. And
I definitely wanted to see his face again.


Ah... that face.


***


        I waited patiently for the clock to reach eight. After eating a few
bites of my food and chugging at least 200 calories of "Caramel Fizz
Delight," my erection went down enough for me to actually participate in
human interaction. Although, it didn't last terribly long. By the time
seven-fifty rolled around, I was so antsy, I could have danced myself to
the moon (or jerk myself off seventy times.) I couldn't handle anymore
stories about the horrors of the empire below us, or gossip about our
current king, and I certainly did not have any patience for Gul gushing
over this lovely girl with "wild and ravenous black hair" that he recently
met.


So, I did the only sensible thing, and excused myself to go to the
restroom. I expressed that my stomach hurt terribly, and that I may be in
there for a while. I walked my way to the restroom, and slowly, but surely,
opened its door.


The air inside was cool, and the quiet humming of the air conditioning was
a pleasant alternative to the blaring thump of the electric harp. I checked
my assistant, which read "7:54" in bright, clunky red letters. Relieved and
impatient at the same time, I slid down the wall and set myself on the
cold, wooden floor. I don't quite recall what happened next, although I
must have fallen asleep. Because the next thing I knew, Dante was kneeling
in front of me with a huge grin on his face.


Groggily, I looked over to my watch, which read "8:10."


"Sorry, my shift ran a bit late," Dante said, gesturing to the time.


"I-it's okay." I muttered, looking up at him and his pretty brown
eyes. God, what a beautiful creature he was.


"Mmm, tired?" He reached out a caressed my shoulder slightly.


"I...I didn't think I was? But I guess so...I fell into sleep without even
trying." I laughed slightly, realizing how idiotic I must have sounded. Oh
woe was me, did I have sound so unintelligible around this man?


"That's okay. I'm sure I can wake you up." His eyes glinted mischievously,
and I forced myself to look away.


But instead of looking away, my eyes drew downwards, until they fell onto
his crotch. Of course, what was a perfect man without a perfectly sizable
member? In the position he was in, I could make out that whatever was
beneath his servant robes was likely very thick, and probably long as
well. The more I looked at the bulge in his skirts, the more I could not
stop myself from staring at it. It took me almost thirty seconds to look up
at him again. Surprisingly, he was still looking right at me.


He smirked. "Do you like what you see?"


I blushed furiously. "Oh - um! I am sorry, you are quite... I am
easily... I..."


"Ah, aren't you a cutie? Once again, it's quite okay."


"If...if you say so."


        "Come, stand up," he said, as he did so himself.


        Without even thinking about it, I stood myself up, my legs wobbly
from the furiousness of my phallus. I looked up at him again. I was shorter
than him, not terribly so, but a good two or three inches were between us.


"Do you like boys?" he asked rather bluntly, running his finger along the
side of my cheek.


"Me? A-ah, well... I guess I do. Do you?"


His eyes met mine again. "I like boys very, very much, yes."


"Oh," I replied. "Is that why you wanted to meet me here?"


"Yes," he lowered his hand to my shoulder, and began to massage it
again. "I noticed you from across the room before I ever went to serve
you. I find you very attractive."


"Y-you find me attractive?"


"Indeed, I do."


"But- why me? You don't know me. I'm just... I'm just a..."


"Very cute boy who should better of himself, hmm? Although that's partially
why you're so adorable. I love the way you talk."


"O-oh..ah...I'm not normally this bad."


"No? Well I hope I can hear more of how you normally speak, then. Though,
anything you say will sound good to me."


"Y-you really know how to flatter...w-what do you want to do with me?" I
shuddered slightly as his hand gripped my shoulder with more force, and his
head turned towards my neck.


"I don't know quite yet. Though, I'd like it to involve me and you, very
often."


He lifted his mouth towards my ear, sucking on it slightly, and I thought
my legs would surely turn into molten jello.


 "It can be whatever you want it to be, really. I just want to know you,"
he said, after his mouth let go of my ear. "What's your name?"


"S-sevren. Sevren De'Archer."


"Mm, what a nice name. You're from a rich family, huh?"


I blushed. "Er...we're not horribly rich, but....yes, I guess. I hope you
don't think poorly of me for it.


"Hmm, well, Sevren, I don't care if you're from a rich snotty family, I'm
not a bad guy," he lifted his hand up to my nose, and pinched it with two
fingers. "Though I'm not amazing at controlling my impulses... and you've
got an awfully cute little nose."


"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Heh, who nose."


I bit into my tongue. "O-oh god! Was that a pun? You're horrible already."


Letting go of my nose, he inched his face towards me, so that I could feel
his hot, sweet breath. My mind wandered to other places I'd like his breath
to be on. "I can be more horrible, if you'd like."


"I-I...I should get back to my family."


        "Ah, that's right, family..." his mouth formed a slight
frown. "Here, give me your assistant number."


        As if in some kind of trance, I took out my assistant, and
exchanged numbers with him.


        "You should go back to your family now," he began, his lips curling
up again. "Please, do message me when you have time. I'll make it worth
your while."


        And with that, he leaned down and shoved his mouth onto mine,
before quickly walking away, as he had done before.


        And though I felt insane for what I had just done, and my family
would likely begin to worry where I was, I felt so incredibly good. I had
just met Dante, barely knew him, but holy fuck was he something else.