Requested - EXPLICIT SPECIAL

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Miles

"Good morning Mr 21," I look up from my newspaper to see Doc standing over me, wandering into the kitchen with a vacant stare. He begins to make coffee, but it's like his body is simply going trough the motions, not even thinking about it. "We'll go to get you a cake later, okay?" He asks me, his usually emotive voice lost in a robotic monotone. I've seen this before and it isn't good. Doc is depressed.

I stand up and walk in, both of us watching the water boil and bubble in the kettle before he pours it into mugs - coffee for him, tea for me. To be honest, I don't really care about turning 21. The years have melted together for me and I suspect this isn't my real birthday - a pseudo-date made up for my forged birth certificate Doc got me to apply to university. My real birthday, if I recall isn't until June but we celebrate the fake one instead. Doc's decision, I don't always understand his decisions. But I trust them. "What's wrong?" I ask, my voice laden with false sympathy, kindness and compassion for the man I honestly love, but not enough to care whenever he goes on some melancholic decline. Honestly it just irritates me how often this happens - I think he actually has depression, but of course I don't get to ask that question.

Doc sighs, looking up from his mug and at me, eyes roaming across every part of my body before they lifelessly lock with my own piercing gaze. "You're just getting so old, and so big..." he laments.  He walks up, placing a bony hand on my cheek. "You're just not as beautiful as you used to be,"

He means before I began puberty. Doc was so excited when I began puberty but as my body changed he grew weary of my new strength. I've grown taller than him, my shoulders broad and arms toned with muscles. Doc doesn't like it, but it's favourable to avoid suspicion, people would ask questions if I looked emancipated like he does. He plays with my hair, running his hand through my black locks and making my scalp tickle. I bat away his hand, glaring at the floor and he looks at me in confused shock.

"I'm not as beautiful as I used to be?" I repeat with a deep glare. "I used to be broken. You made me into what I am. I am the product of your experiment - what, did you fail? Is the great Doctor so pathetic he cannot do something so simple as create the perfect experiment?"

Doc watches me and with force I'm surprised by, slams me against the wall, pressing my chest back with his hands as he kisses me roughly. We battle for dominance and I let him win, feeling the hard pressure of his lips bruising mine. I shiver in suspenseful pleasure as underneath my jawline tingles with the icy blade of a knife. "Go the fuck upstairs," he growls into my mouth, teeth snapping down on my bottom lip and drawing blood. With my eyes glued to the floor I ascend to our bedroom, throwing off my clothes and feeling my naked body slide against the cool sheets.

I hope he doesn't mind the blood dripping from my lip staining their flawless white.

Doc appears at the door stripped down to his boxers, an empty beer bottle dangling precariously between two fingers. He tosses it carelessly at the wall which it shatters against with a loud crash. In a flash of lightning passion he crawls onto the bed, stalking up to me and locking lips with mine once again. He hands me a knife, my hands stumbling before I grip its handle. Pushing me agains the headboard Doc spreads my legs, wrapping his long hand around my wrist.

He isn't saying anything, that's what makes him so terrifying

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He isn't saying anything, that's what makes him so terrifying.

Gripping my hair in his palm he slams my head against the wall and I hear a horrific crack, my neck suddenly moist, body shuddering outside my control. "Relax, my experiment," Doc comforts me, gripping my member tightly in his hand and pumping it slowly. I gasp with each distinct touch, his other hand slipping up between my legs and playing with my entrance, sliding past my sphincter. Slowly, he prepares me. He slides his fingers in and out of me, stretching me wide until he can fit inside. I watch him spit on his own cock and pump it slickly, covering it in lubricant before he positions himself before my entrance.

"Hm, ready, my experiment?" He chuckles, his voice so calm and controlled. I gulp back a whimper, nodding as he starts to slide inside me.

He fucks me slowly, his hand riding further and further up my chest as his other presses against the wall. Doc wraps his hand around my neck, tightening his grip each passing second. I gag from him choking me, but is grip gets tighter as his pace speeds up, I can feel him pulsing inside. Fuck, fuck this shouldn't feel so good. Like a mild pleasure washing over me as I dip in and out of consciousness.

I moan in pleasure when he lets go and shudders against me, cumming inside before his body flops down over mine. Panting, he lies on top of me, curling his arms around my waist. "Fuck... fuck Miles..."

I whine, shifting under him. "Doc, I need..." my erection throbs between us and he looks down too, maybe just noticing it's there.

"Fuck, Fine," Doc growls and pulls back, reaching down and starting to suck me off, deepthroatingg me easily from practice. I hiss as waves of pleasure ripple over my body, grabbing above the headboard and losing myself in his ministrations.

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