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writefinch · 3 years

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Dear Dairy, Pt.1 (cn: noncon, Mm, kidnap, emphasis on *forced* feminization, induced lactation, milking, bondage, drugging, induction of gender dysphoria in a cis guy, things of that nature)

7th July 2018

Cold day today. I dusted off my scarves for the first time this year. Not literally, they'd been vacuum sealed and packed away when the weather turned in October. I threw out the red and yellow knit scarf, something I should have done last year, as it's far too Harry Potter. I was going to pick out the UMIST scarf but that felt a touch dull for the first scarf of the year. In the end I picked out the green silk paisley, which I felt provided a contrast with the pink shirt. I wore them with the second-hand grey Armani that I've yet to have tailored; I haven't yet decided if it's worth the trouble. I'm leaning towards yes, as I received two compliments today, one from Jason's database administrator, a charming and flirtatious--to say nothing of attractive--lady from Perth. We've talked about the possibility of meeting up for drinks at some point, and I'm increasingly inclined to take her up on the offer.

Experiment C2 is adjusting to his newfound freedom since his release last week. It was sad to see him go, and I'll cherish the time we spent together, our first night especially when he violently objected to the idea of servicing me. Oh, how he kicked and fought, clawing at his neck chain, scratching me, biting, swinging wildly. He bloodied my nose rather viciously and left me in no mood for sex that night, to the extent that I almost let him go entirely.

Of course, his demeanor changed altogether after I bagged him. A clear plastic bag over his head, taped around his neck, watching him gasp and writhe for air that isn't there, screaming his silly little head off until he's sure that he's taken his final breath, then tearing a tiny hole over his nostrils. I let him suck in four generous lungfuls of air before I bagged him the second time, and I went through seven bags before allowing him a rest. After that he became such an agreeable and solicitous cocksleeve you'd have thought he was raised in a merchant marine!

Still, he was unsuitable both physiologically and psychologically for the experimental interventions, and I only have so much space in the cellar, so I had to let him go. Some of my social acquaintances are keeping a close eye on him. He's been told that running his mouth will lead to nothing but the cold grave, and I believe he's a bright enough lad to take that to heart.

I'm beginning the search for his replacement tomorrow.

20th July 2018

I've found him! I've found him I've found him, he is everything I've been looking for, he is perfect, it is as if God placed that boy on earth for no other purpose than my need for him. I can barely contain my excitement.

He is an itinerant surf bum, twenty years of age, single, underemployed, estranged from his family. He has flowing blond hair, a few wisps under his chin that can barely be called a beard, deep brown eyes, and a lithe, rangy figure that seems to be slowly growing into the top-heavy carrot-shaped build of a classic surfer. He's been living in town since May, surfing most days, doing temp jobs, lodging in the spare bedroom of a friend of mine.

What a perfect physique! His body is accustomed to being dashed over rocks and whipped by surf, what fun I will have finding and surpassing his tolerances for pain! Oh, to restrict and ration out air to a boy who has trained himself to hold his breath underwater since he was a young teenager, to see those taut muscles stretched over a rack, I cannot wait, I can't wait.

I won't speak or write his name. I now take every action with the foregone conclusion that he is mine, and that he is already Experiment C3. In my mind, he is already in my cellar.

My friend has kindly allowed him to get behind on his rent, and C3 apparently plans to move to Sydney in ten day's time, driving out across the country in his decade-old Ford Ka, surfboard strapped to the roof. When he disappears a few days before that, people will assume he left to avoid paying his rent.

They won't be wrong, in a sense. C3 won't be worrying about rent for a long, long time...

26th July, 2018

It hasn't been an easy choice, and it is in fact a decision I've been struggling with for some time now, but I've decided to let my hair go grey. I'm almost forty for heaven's sake, and I noticed my first grey a year before the financial crisis. Ever since then I've been religious in my application of dye and toner, carefully concealing each and every one of the pale little buggers that pops up, but it's gone from something I'd do after a haircut to something I'm doing twice a week. I won't rush it, I'm going to ease off the dye over the course of the next year or so, but by next July I'll be au naturelle salt and pepper.

Work remains dull but tolerable. I know I'm blessed to be able to do most of my duties from home given my hobbies, but there's a certain sense of removal from everything, as if it's not really a job at all and I'm back at university doing a coursework-intensive compulsory module. On the other hand, I do enjoy going to the office in a way that I did not when I was going there five days a week!

Experiment C3 is screaming his head off again, I think. It's very faint, and I've turned off the air conditioning in the sitting room so I can hear it coming up from below. I suppose I can't blame the boy, given the circumstances. He hasn't seen me since the drugs wore off, and he's in the same configuration I first kept C2 in: his feet are in snowboard boots and locked into clips in the floor, his neck is in a steel collar connected to an eyebolt on the floor by a one-metre chain, his wrists are cuffed and pulled up towards the ceiling by another chain, he has noise-cancelling headphones strapped over his ears blaring white noise, and he's wearing a blindfold snug enough to prevent him from even blinking underneath it.

He's been there for seven hours now, since three in the morning. He can neither stand nor sit nor lie down, he cannot turn around, he cannot see--though it is pitch black in the cellar even if he wasn't blindfolded--he cannot hear his own voice, and I very much doubt he has any idea how he got there.

As I said, I haven't been down to see him properly yet, so I'm monitoring him at a distance via CCTV and also his pulse and blood oxygen readings. I'm keeping him watered through an IV drip and I'm not at all worried about feeding him just yet, though I'm sure he'll be getting hungry given that I emptied out the contents of his guts with an enema while he was still unconscious. I want him properly good and woozy from sleep deprivation before I introduce myself, either forty-eight hours or until his vitals get a tad skiffy, whichever is shorter. By my word, I am not an impatient man!

Of course, given the close monitoring required, I'll only be getting a few more hours sleep than he will. I suspect I'm getting the better half of the deal. Ah, the poor thing just wet himself. He needn't worry, it's all going into the bucket between his feet, and it'll go to good use later.

I've calmed myself down since his capture, for practical reasons as much as anything else, but I am still abuzz with energy. I am already looking forward to writing my next entry!

28th July 2018

I introduced myself to C3 today.

He spent an impressively long time in the stress position before he was unable to push his legs and instead dangled from his wrists, almost twelve hours, at which point I let the wrist rope go slack and allowed him to collapse. To prevent him from sleeping I intermittently blasted him with high pressure cold water whenever his pulse dropped below 100, for about a further four hours until I decided he'd had enough rest and strung his wrists back up.

He lasted five hours that time, so I let his wrists down again and stood sentry with a paintball gun, giving him a good and proper three-round burst whenever he stopped whimpering. Up again, barely an hour, down again, where I pinned him to the floor with wiring from an electric fence, set to deliver low-intensity zaps across his arms and chest whenever it seemed as if sleep was a possibility. He only got a few shocks, I think the first few put him in such a state of alarm that he didn't dare relax enough to be given another.

I strung him up a few more times, sometimes combining the motivators--his quivering thighs made a delightful target for paintballs as he tried to hold them in a crouching squat--until we reached the forty-ninth hour. I then played my recorded introduction tape through his headphones. It was identical to the one I'd played for C1 and C2, which was itself similar to the one recorded for B4 through B9.

Of course, as the deaf and blindfolded boy was crouch-squatting in place hearing my voice tell him that his old life was forfeit, that he was livestock now, that he would be used as a sex slave, that disobedience would only lead to misery, and the details of the hormone treatments he would be on, I was standing in front of him, masturbating.

My timing was impeccable. Just as the last lines of the recording said "if you're wondering when you'll meet me, I'm right in front of you," I came all over his whorish face. I'm afraid I'm no Peter North, I've no more than four spurts and the first one is always rather watery, but I nailed him right between the lips with one burst and smeared the rest over his face with the tip of my cock. He froze up rather delightfully during the whole ordeal, barely flinching as I cleaned off the tip in his hair.

I took the microphone and spoke directly into his headphones. I told him he'd been in his predicament for two days so far, that he was to obey my simple instructions, and that if he did he would be allowed food and allowed to rest. I told him that I would not require him to speak at any point during these instructions, and that if he so much as whispered I'd keep him strung up without food for another two days. He nodded in agreement, which earned him a hard slap, as I'd not asked him to nod or shake his head. I told him then to nod if he understood, which he did.

I freed one of his arms at a time, telling them to keep them in place and move them only as and when I told him to move them. He obeyed--a far quicker learner than C1--and I put him into the straitjacket. I unlatched his boots one at a time, putting him in ankle cuffs with a short length of heavy chain between them. I injected him in the buttocks with his first dose of anti-androgens, a painkiller, and his hormonal cocktail, and I removed the IV from his arm.

At that point I led him to his cage, a 2x3 metre cell, 1.5 metres high. I removed his blindfold, though it did him little good as it was pitch black in the entire room--I'd switched off the lights and was working via a set of light amplification goggles--and pushed him onto the wipe-clean bedroll.

"Lie still like a good little boy until the lights turn on, and then you can help yourself to some food," I said to him. He made a sound as if to respond, then silenced himself, lying still in his bonds.

The lights were on a timer, and they came on harsh and bright when I was upstairs, watching him through the CCTV on my desktop with a fresh pot of coffee. Three of the walls of his cage were walled off with a tarp, allowing him to see about a fifth of the basement through the remaining wall. Inside his cage was his bedroll, a doggie bowl full of oatmeal and bananas, a small plastic trough filled with fresh water, and a litter tray.

I considered staying up and watching him, seeing the fear grow in his eyes, his first attempt at eating cold food without the use of his hands, the humiliation of pissing in a litter tray, but I was exhausted. As soon as I've finished writing this entry, I'm going to take a well-deserved nap.

4th October 2018

The truffle salt from Coles is a waste of time. Don't misunderstand me, it's useable, it's palatable, and it has the necessary truffle aroma. "Has" is the key word there, it's got the half-life of Fermium and after a week in the cupboard it's now just table salt with black specks in it. I think I'm going to invest in some decent truffle oil at Christmas.

C3 is coming along marvelously. The combination of injections and a high-fat, high-calorie, vitamin-rich diet have had a visible impact on his physique. His skin has softened even further from a clear and healthy surfer's complexion to almost peachlike smoothness and he now has visible jiggle on his thighs, stomach and buttocks. Most importantly, he's now the not-at-all-proud owner of a set of A-cup breasts, complete with sensitive, pebble-sized nipples.

His breasts are extremely sensitive. He's told me as much directly, but I've confirmed it through experimental means. A few light stripes under the nipples with the cane used to bring a wince to his face when he first came under my care, now it brings him to his knees, and the mere sight of the thing leads him to cry and whine rather prettily.

He did have some issues with portion control, in that he wasn’t eating the full servings of food I had prepared for him. This was unreasonable and short-sighted on his part: while plain, I have not asked him to eat anything that I wouldn't willingly eat myself, and while I am not a professional cook I am certainly a talented amateur.

The solution was a simple one: if even a smear of food remains in his dish, I do not feed him for the next two to four days. I only had to enforce this rule twice, and he's finished every meal I've put in front of him for the past two months.

He's gone without sleeping for the last forty-eight hours, he's gone without speaking for the last three weeks, and I've added a low dose of LSD to his drinking water. Tonight he should be somewhat tractable for the induction of a hypnotic state. I am not trying to control his behaviour--there's nothing I want him to do that I couldn't compel him to do through more reliable means--but for an in-depth interview. In concert with a lie detector and a regulated dose of barbiturates, I am going to make him bare his soul to me.

There are a few specifics I'm interested in, such as confirming my assessment of his sexuality and gender identity, and it never hurts to shore up my security by inquiring of any planned means of escape or rescue, but in great part I am doing this for morale effect: I want him to have no respite from me, even inside his own mind. He will learn that he has no more control of his thinking than he does of his eating, sleeping or exercising.

Speaking of which, I had to leave him in an armbinder for a few nights when he insisted on doing press-ups in his cell. The additional restraints distressed him greatly, and he's seemed afraid to even move lest I restrain him further. That was back in August, and I have since acquired an elliptical trainer which I allow him to use daily, good behaviour permitting.

I will write again tomorrow with details of tonight's interview, and I only hope it's more productive than C2's interview was.

5th October 2018

Well, that was elucidating.

I left C3 unrestrained for the interview. It was his first time free of shackles and cuffs outside of his cage since he'd arrived, as I wanted him to be relatively comfortable and I was confident that his drug cocktail would prevent any serious escape attempts.

He is not a natural hypnotic subject and I was only successful in inducing a semi-trance state. I don't think he achieved a trance, but I think he believed he was in a trance, and for my purposes that was more than sufficient. He talked for hours and provided an unabridged history of his life so far. His parents, his brothers, his schooling, his love of surfing and camping, his romantic attachments and rejections, his childhood friends and bullies, his fear of dogs, his earliest memories, his deepest shames, enough to fill a short memoir.

The interview lasted for ten hours, with breaks every two hours to allow him to pee (as I'd also allowed him to drink lime cordial from a cup while he spoke) and to adjust his dose of drugs and deepen his trance state. He cried frequently and easily. He bears a great amount of shame and guilt for someone so young and so relatively innocent--raised by Catholics, naturally--and spent half of the fifth hour in uncontrollable hysterics. I let him rest his head in my lap and stroked his hair as he cried, and he clung on to me like a man drowning. Once he ran out of tears he had a bout of cathartic laughter, and after that a calm passed over him, and he remained in a state of detached, cooperative calm until I ended the interview.

Of course, most of this was filler and background information for the parts that truly interested me: his sexuality and gender identity. Both were perfect. His sexuality is less important but still delightful. He is entirely heterosexual and repulsed by men. He still has nightmares about the one time I have molested him so far, when I coated his face with cum shortly after his chapter. You wouldn't believe how hard I got as he told me that!

He sometimes masturbates in his cage, which he tells me is mostly from boredom than any sexual desire, and he fantasizes about sex with women. He has little interest in sadomasochism, no interest whatsoever about taking a submissive role, and aside from a weak interest in pegging he is plain vanilla. He has fantasies about sex in public, fucking multiple women, being woken up by receiving oral sex, and seducing older women.

His gender identity is much the same: male, through and through. He has insecurities about being slight and physically unimposing--related to bullying in school--and about being insufficiently masculine. He takes pride in the callouses in his hands and the scars on his body from surfing, and wishes that the thin, pale stubble on his face was thicker.

It's of little surprise then that he finds the changes from the hormones to be a cruel and unwanted imposition. His breast growth makes him feel powerless and disgusted with himself, he can feel his muscles weakening, the tenderness in his breasts is terrifying and degrading, and even the topic of penile and testicular shrinkage made him choke up and sob. He says that even when I allow him to sleep, his mind feels clouded and he finds it increasingly difficult to identify the particulars of his emotional state, which swings and changes in ways he is not used to.

Again, I must reiterate how promising this is. My experiments concern the induction of sexual neuroses and physical development on non-consenting subjects. C1 was unsuitable because he--well, she, more likely--was a little too keen to embrace the role I had planned for her.

C3 is sleeping now. I haven't actually left our impromptu "therapy room" and he's drifted off with his head in my lap. He needs the rest. I have big plans for him, after all.

24th October, 2018

I took a trip to the cinema today. Specifically the single-screen cinema in the back of the adult bookshop. C2 is turning tricks for the manager. I don't think it's his first career choice but for some reason he's been unable to get a job anywhere else in town. He tried being an independent streetwalker for a while, which didn't work out well for him as he was quickly picked up by the local police and treated rather roughly. Almost as if they were keeping an eye on him!

The manager of the adult bookshop got in touch with him, I believe he was waiting for him outside the local lockup in fact, and informed him of a safe, reliable means of plying his trade. Now he sucks cock in the back room cinema along with a handful of other whores in exchange for a roof over his head and ten percent of the ticket sales.

He was apparently given a second tour of the police cells for not handing his tips over to the manager in a timely and honest manner, so his left eye was still swollen shut when I saw him today. His garb was delightful: pastel pink yoga leggings with the Adidas stripes down the sides, and a duck egg blue midriff-cut t-shirt with "BOY" on the chest, with a female gender symbol in place of the O.

I sat down next to him in the otherwise empty cinema and flashed him my ticket, which had set me back $84--worth every penny--and he flashed me a charming smile. There was no glimmer of recognition in his eyes, like all of my experiments and side projects he'd never seen me without a mask. He put his hand on my thigh and told me his name, which I've already forgotten. The feature began, a rather energetic video from the noughties with Kelly Wells, Hillary Scott and Layla Riviera, prompting C2 to get on his knees in front of me. He gagged a little when he unzipped my jeans, not because I was unwashed but because I'd applied a generous quantity of deodorant and aftershave so that he would not recognise me via scent.

I enjoyed a slow, leisurely blowjob for the next hour, where he displayed all the basic techniques I'd so painstakingly taught him as well as a few new ones he'd picked up more recently. There's something to be said about consuming porn this way, not just the oral service but also watching the film from the beginning, without skipping forward to my favorite parts or switching between videos, letting myself slowly build towards my climax at the same pace as the on-screen action. I came just before the money shot, pulling out to cum all over C2's face as Kelly Wells guzzled piss on the big screen, and let C2 lick and suck my balls until the credits rolled.

Before he or I got up, I took out $20, waved it in front of his eyes, and then used the notes to wipe cum up from his face. He flinched at the roughness, scowled, told me to cut it out, and put his hand on my leg as if to push away from me. I said three words.

"Punishment position three."

It was as if I'd reached inside him and squeezed. He let out a pitiful squeak, straightened up on his knees, pushed out his chest, put his hands behind his back, closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and let his tongue hang out. I stuffed the cum-soaked banknotes between his mouth.

"Be good, C2," I told him as I stood up. He didn't move a muscle as I walked out of the cinema, and as the door closed behind me, I heard a single muffled sob. It was an enjoyable experience and I certainly needed it after the last few days because C3 has really been a handful.

It began on the weekend when the first signs of lactation appeared. C3 has been getting increasingly upset with the changes to his body, his widening hips, his weight gain, his shrinking musculature, his shrinking genitalia, and his C-cup breasts. The breasts are especially upsetting, he complains that they ache constantly and are tender to the slightest touch. In any case, when the first droplets of milk dribbled out of his nipples something snapped.

Through tears, he told me that he refuses to eat, that he cannot live with the things I am doing to him, and that I should either let him go or kill him. Obviously this is unacceptable. I told him I was not treating his request with any seriousness, and that if he did not eat his meal, he would go without for the next several days. He nodded forlornly, but still refused the food.

I strapped his hands into leather mitts to prevent him from improvising methods of self-harm, and continued as normal. For the next three days, he refused to respond to commands or obey orders, remaining silent and going limp. He wailed in pain when I caned his soles and slapped his tits, but he continued to wallow in self-pity.

He was ravenously hungry by Wednesday, but when I gave him the opportunity to eat, he would not. I left the bowl of food in his cage overnight, and in the morning it remained untouched. He had not thrown it out or despoiled it, he had simply ignored it in an admirable, if misplaced, display of willpower. I gave him one final warning that there would be serious consequences if he did not eat now. He refused, so I applied the consequences.

I fitted him into a padded restraining board, on his back, his arms, legs, chest, stomach, forehead, chin, wrists and ankles held in place by canvas straps. He could not move an inch, not that he was trying particularly hard. A hollow dildo gag with a breathing hole went into his mouth, principally to prevent him from trying to bite off his own tongue. I catheterized him and inserted a hollow plug into his backside, not overly gently in either case, much to his consternation.

Then, intubation. I fed a heavily-lubricated silicone hose into his left nostril. He thrashed and twitched, as is expected when such a procedure is performed without the aid of benzodiazepines. Undeterred, I asked him to start swallowing, lest the tube end up in his lungs. He did as much gagging as swallowing, but after a few eventful minutes I felt the tell-tale glide of it being pulled down his esophagus and into his stomach.

Once the tube was taped in place under his nose, I attached the free end to a pump until it drew fluid out from within him. A few drops of this fluid onto pH paper revealed it to be stomach acid, which hopefully meant that the hose was not in his lungs. I then attached the hose to the feeding machine, and explained to C3 exactly how it would work.

He would have his meals and water combined into a slurry, kept at a cool four degrees celsius, and injected into his feeding tube. The pressure inside the hose would make breathing difficult or impossible while the food was being pumped, and the volume of his meals--around a litre and a half of slurry--meant that each feeding would be spread out in thirty second bursts, delivered semi-randomly over the course of an hour.

As I told him this, I undid my belt and began to masturbate. Despite the obvious temptations, I had not molested C3 in an overtly sexual manner since that first facial at the beginning of his captivity. By combining molestation with removal of autonomy, I wished to impress upon him the importance of obeying me with whatever autonomy I allow him to have.

I pressed the button on the feeding machine as I approached my climax. C3 squealed and gurgled like a drowning cat from the sensation of ice-cold sludge pumping through a tube in his sinuses and down into his throat, choking as the diameter of the tube expanded enough to cut off his breathing. He thrashed in his restraints with such force that he almost moved the gurney beneath him!

Seeing tears stream from his eyes was too much, and his eyes were precisely where I aimed. I landed a good few ropes on each eye, which he scrunched shut in disgust. When the tube stopped pumping I pried open his eyelids with my fingers and made sure a good quantity of my burning, stinging cum got in each eye, then smeared the rest across his face. He tried to blink it out, with little success, and before he could do much else I applied the padded blindfold. He hates and fears the eye-shutting pressure from the neoprene padding at the best of times, and wasn't overjoyed to wear it with his eyes gunked up with sperm.

He's been like that for the last three days, unable to move, speak or see, fed three meals a day through his nose. The only interaction he's had is when I've unrestrained his individual limbs and allowed them some movement, one at a time, to prevent bedsores and deep vein thrombosis, and when I come down to grope his sensitive tits. He is only able to relieve himself through the catheter and through enemas.

After a few days of stick, he's almost ready for the carrot. Tonight I am making pork carnitas with soft tacos, which he has told me is his favourite meal. I have also purchased one of the Harry Dresden books, which he told me he is an avid reader of. When dinner is ready, I will make him an offer: he will ask me for normal food and apologize for forcing me to use the feeding tube. In return he will be allowed out of his restraints and returned to his comfortable cage, along with his favourite meal and a good book, which he will be allowed to read during his spare time as long as he behaves himself.

I hope he accepts, for his sake and mine.

16 November 2018

C3 had his first true milking today! I've been teasing dribbles of milk from his nipples with my fingers for weeks, but today the volume was so high that I had to deploy a handheld breast pump. He whimpered for the duration but was obviously relieved by the reduction in pressure. It was as if he found the whole ordeal rather humiliating.

The milk is rich, a touch gamey, and less sweet than expected. I don't think the taste will be anything to write home about while his stress levels are so high, and I think that will be the case for some time. I've taken half for myself, and I'm mixing the other half into his food.

He's been docile since the force feeding. The intensity and inevitability of the punishment is part of it, but the rewards are equally important. My deal is that he can ask for anything once. Obviously I laugh at certain requests--he's not getting a phone or a two-way radio--and some things require compromise, but otherwise I have been accommodating. His cell now contains a lamp he can turn on or off, two dozen books and graphic novels, an old mp3 player, and a box of wet wipes. His relief from the constant boredom of being confined in a cage for twenty hours a day is palpable, and he has chosen the comfort that obedience brings over the misery that stems from disobedience.

He has asked if he'll ever be free from this basement and I truthfully said yes. One day he'll be walking around outside free of physical restraints and he will sleep at night in a bed he can truly call his own, though I'm unsure if he'll ever truly be free of me. He takes comfort in the fact that he has not yet seen my face or anything that might identify me, as he reasons that I am therefore not incentivized to bury him in a shallow grave to protect myself. His conclusion is correct but his premise is wrong; he'll know who I am eventually and I still won't fear him.

I'm currently milking him once per day regardless of his feelings on the matter, and I think this has hidden from him the fact that he now needs to be milked. Without his daily milkings the pain in his breasts would become unbearable, and soon he will develop mastitis if he's not milked. This will form another important part of his development: begging for things that are distasteful but necessary. With the exception of the wet wipes, there is nothing inherently humiliating in the things he's asking for. I believe he'll find begging to be milked intensely humiliating, and more humiliating still because of the tolls I'll extract from him when he goes down that road.

A brief note on his physical changes: his breasts are bigger but they remain C-cups for the time being. There are now a striking set of stretch marks on the sides and undersides of his breasts, along with some smaller, subtler ones on his thighs and buttocks which have also thickened up nicely. At some point I'm going to give him a regular schedule of retention enemas until he gets stretch marks on his belly befitting a pregnant little broodslut. His skin is delightfully soft and I'm shaving his face daily until the home electrolysis kit arrives. The combination of hormones, daily exercise bike sessions, and a lack of any upper body resistance training has changed his physique from a surfer's build to a more bottom heavy one.

As soon as I have finished writing this entry I am going to give him two gifts. The first gift is an ear piercing. It will be home to a yellow plastic tag, a miniature version of a cattle tag. The second gift is his name. He's not C3 anymore, and he's certainly not whatever stupid name he called himself before I acquired him. He has lovely tits and he's a milk cow, so his name will be Cowtits.

Cowtits. I think it suits him.

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sugaabooga · 6 years

Text

The Holiday Ghost

Pairing: Kim Jaehwan x Reader

Genre: fluff, little angst?, bullet scenario, ghost!Jaehwan

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary/Extra: MERRRRRRRYYY CHRISTMAAAAASSSSS!!! Part of the Christmas Packages:) thought i should start posting the writings ive finished even tho a lot of the kpop fandom has been through hard times last week! i’ve also extended this holiday thing until the end of my winter break, January 8th. ENJOY!

So you’ve never really been a fan of horror movies

But one day in the middle of December, winter break, your friends Jihoon and Woojin suggest the three of you watch the new horror movie that had recently came out

That was the worst decision you have ever made in your whole entire life

You couldn’t walk back home alone and made both the boys walk you

But either way it was scary

bc they wouldn’t stop scaring you!!!

“Y-Y/N….”

“STOPPPPP!!”

“THERE’S SOMETHING BEHIND YOU!”

And they would start sprinting down the sidewalk and leave you to stand alone in the flickering street light

You almost burst into tears

Jihoon and woojin felt really bad after you had a near panic attack

so Jihoon ends up walking in front of you and woojin walks behind you

b4 they leave they remind you that it’s not real and ghosts don’t exist

Blah blah blah

Their little assurance somewhat calms you

BUT YOU REALIZE YOUR PARENTS AREN’T HOME

IT’S LATE WHY AREN’T THEY HOMEEEEE

DID THEY DIE!? IF YOU GO IN THE BATHROOM WILL THEY BE LAYING THERE!?

you start running around the house and turn on every single light you have

you know you shouldn’t, but you really don’t wanna risk seeing a dark shadow in the mirror as you brush your teeth then be led to your death, so you don’t even step a meter near the bathroom

you change in the corner of your room so nothing would be able to stand behind you

You walk backwards into your bed then create a little house around your head with all your stuffed animals

you somehow fall asleep despite the feeling you had of someone watching you

But during the middle of the night you hear soft strumming of the guitar

At first you think that it must be your next door neighbor, Joshua playing his little morning warm-up

Then you see the time from your half opened eyes and holy shiz it’s only 2am

you start to hyperventilate and you can’t even close your eyes

Bc what if the killer ghost is hovering right above you when you choose to open them again

You can’t risk it

the strums come closer and closer to your window

and you feel yourself sweating more and your breathing becomes ragged

but then you hear humming of a soft, light tune

it makes you think back to third grade, first day of school

you remember a kid who always brought a ukulele to school

tbh you had a crush on that boy, but you couldn’t remember his name

he always sat with you whenever you mom was late to pick you up and he would play a short theme song like from a popular cartoon

his songs always assured you that your mom was coming to pick you up soon

and it helped you forget all the bullies and frights you had

the song that you were hearing rn was oddly familiar and it comforted you

The strums were nowhere near creepy, surprisingly and the hums lulled you back to sleep

When you wake up in the morning, you hear guitar strums again

your heart beats erratically but then you realize

The sun’s out

Which means

It’s bright and daytime

Which meanss

NO GHOSTS

Which meanssss

It was your cute neighbor joshua hong playing his guitar and singing with his heavenly voice

You just lay in your bed after opening your window a bit more so you can hear him sing

But then you realize….

It wasn’t joshua’s voice

Joshua had a softer, gentler voice

This voice was soft and gentle….

But there was strong emotion put into each word sung

way more emotion than a morning warm up

you slowly get up and peek out your window to see…

Nothing

You notice that the singing and guitar stopped as well

you slump back into your bed then think back to the horror movie from yesterday

It couldn’t be….

A GHOST!?!!?!?

You start screaming and crying at the same time when the scenes from the movie come rushing into your brain

You hear footsteps come up the stairs and you start screaming even louder

But stop when you see that it’s just your mom

“WHAT’S GOING ON!? IS EVERYTHING OKAY!?”

“MOOOOMMMMM!!! I THINK OUR HOUSE IS HAUNTEDDD!!”

cue your mom hitting your back and yelling at you

“I THOUGHT SOMETHING HAPPENED!”

“SOMETHING DID HAPPEN! I HEARD A GHOST SINGING!”

that just makes your mom even more mad

her slaps just drive you out of bed and you soon find yourself sitting out on your porch

You were currently rubbing your hands over your arms

bc it was FREAKIN cold

you couldn’t believe your mom had kicked you out of the house in the middle of December

you’re muttering to yourself how cold it is then you see a guy with a guitar slung over his shoulder walking down the sidewalk and across the street about to pass by your home

He seemed to be in a good mood

humming and all

but something just seemed off about him

he was rather….. pale

like transparent pale

you’re kinda worried bc what if this guy was rlly sick or something and he didn’t know about it bc he seemed to be in a good mood

“Hey!”

You yell from your chair and wave your arms

he turns to you and stares at you for a bit then keeps walking

you’re like “uh wut?”

you go down the steps and you honestly don’t even know what you’re doing

your feet were moving on their own

you felt like you had to help this person

“Excuse me?”

you call out, but the guy DOES NOT STOP WALKING

could he not hear?

you jog up behind him and reach your hand out to tap him

but

your hand goes through him

“AHHHH!”

the guy suddenly whips around in shock and looks at you with an equally bewildered look

you’re frozen on the spot

you can’t move no matter how creepy the situation is rn

“d-do you see me?” he almost whispers

“n-no”

He just starts laughing and it freaks the hell outta you

What kind of psychotic laugh was that!?

You felt shivers run up and down your spine as he tried to calm himself down

you slowly try to step away from him but Jaehwan does that creepy, nervous, cute looking smile

like do you know what smile im talking about

and he asks you “where are you going?”

your mind’s just going ‘GTFO GGTTFFOO”

you attempt to turn around and run, but you just fall flat on your face

How comedic would this look from your window?

“Are you okay?”

“STOP DON’T COME NEAR ME!”

tbh jaehwan is disheartened at your tone

He was ecstatic that someone could finally see him, but now they were getting scared bc of him

He just ignores those feelings and nervously chuckles

you don’t hear anything for a while and you start to stand up

then you hear music

Those guitar strums

that voice

Both those factors reminded you of that one boy who played to you

you frantically look around, but you couldn’t seem to see anything

then, you spot that ghost guy from earlier

he was sitting on the side of your house, leaned against the wall

If jaehwan remembered anything about humans, it was that they seemed to calm down when there was music

you slowly walk over to him, your feet making crunching noises on the fresh snow

You just stand across from him listening to his voice

when he stops you look at him in surprise and disappointment

“Why’d you stop playing?”

Jaehwan smirks

“You seemed pretty calm enough”

he stands up to take his leave

“Y-You’re voICE IS NICE!”

you’re still kinda creeped out about the fact that he’s a ghost AND WHY ARE YOU SEEING HIM!?!!?

but he just had this familiar comforting feel

you stop him by reaching out for his arm when he merely smiles at your compliment and starts to walk away from you

then remember he’s a frkn ghost

but as you retract your arm you feel the cloth of his jacket

0o0o0o0o000o0o0o0

why were you able to touch him!?!!

Jaehwan can feel after all these years

More like a few months but

“ARE YOU MY SOULMATE!?!?!”

Kim jaehwan plz

you’re like “bro wtf?”

he proceeds to explain how if a human can see him and touch him, he gets a chance to go to the afterworld

for some odd reason, jaehwan was rejected bc he had someone in the real world who wasn’t ready to let him go

This usually wasn’t a problem but the wanting of his presence was REALLLLLYYYY STRONG

So he had to stay in the human world until he found that human and spent three weeks with them to convince them to let him go

“Are you saying it’s me?”

“There’s really no one else who could touch me”

He honestly didn’t know why you were able to touch him

Let alone SEE him

but he felt like you were the owner of that strong, unseen force of wanting his presence

you’re really confused tho bc you’ve never seen him b4

“IM JAEHWAN!”

he suddenly blurts then grins

“....y/n…”

and like JAEHWAN REMEMBERS YOU

You were that one girl who he always played his ukulele for in elementary school!

he had once seen you cry bc you’re mom was running really late and he walked home so he stayed an extra twenty minutes just singing and playing until you cracked a smile

But maybe you weren’t that girl bc he knew at least two other ppl named y/n

Anyways

he doesn’t mention that he may or may not know you and just follows you into your home

by then your mom is calmed down from this morning

there’s already a plate of pancakes set on the table for you

Jaehwan takes a tour around your home while you eat

You finish eating then hear his laugh again

You temporarily forgot there was a ghost in your home, so you freaked but then

“Right… jaehwan”

After you wash the dishes you go up to your room but jaehwan’s already in there

WEARING A FRKN BRA

you clamp your hand over your mouth so you don’t scream from the shock, but instead, you start laughing

“I WISH I COULD TAKE A PICTURE OF YOU RN!”

you’re literally on the ground and Jaehwan just smiles at you and sits on your bed

STILL IN YOUR BRA

“STOP TOUCHING IT!”

it’s only been a few hours of spending time w/Jaehwan in your room

but you feel like you’ve known him for years

he told you about the day his first tooth fell out all the way to the last time he was still existing

you had shed some tears during his talk about his death and what he had felt when he saw the car barreling towards him

soon, a week passed

It was Christmas

You open up your presents

You had asked for a guitar and there it was

You honestly had NO KNOWLEDGE about guitars whatsoever, but the instrument always caught your eye

But ya know

Jaehwans a pro at guitar

So he basically teaches you the basics and helps you get started

You bond even quicker bc of the guitar lessons

And seriously

You never realized you would be best friends with a ghost

Christmas passed by really quickly with Jaehwan hanging out w/you all the time

his presence was always comforting

butttt a lot of your relatives prob thought you were crazy from giggling out of the blue and appearing to talk to yourself

you wanted to tell jihoon and woojin about jaehwan but you couldn’t find the time to meet them during the break

Soon it’s December 31st

third week

Jaehwan had mentioned his past b4

Especially he was now 99% sure that you were the one not letting him go after seeing, from your pictures, that you WERE that girl from like 14 years ago

you didn’t even realize that you were holding on to him from leaving this world

you didn’t even know that you were always missing that one kid in elementary school, who always managed to put a smile on your face and brighten up your day

you now knew that you were the one keeping Jaehwan from leaving to where he belonged

behind the Heaven gates

you kept putting it behind

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow…in three days…. next week….”

until it was New Year’s Eve

10:05pm

You were sitting out on Ong Seongwoo’s empty patio w/Jaehwan

Ong Seongwoo - a freakishly rich dude that somehow became friends with Jihoon and Woojin despite the four year age gap

Seongwoo had thrown a New Year’s Eve party

there were mostly college kids, but a few high schoolers from jihoon and woojin’s dance team were also invited were at this party

You have no idea how you were at this party, but woojin had insisted you come

you had spent some time talking with some of the dancers’ girlfriends and with Jihoon and woojin, but decided to get some fresh air bc the loud music and smell of alcohol was too much

Jaehwan hadn’t come with you even tho he begged to come as long

you wanted jaehwan to stay home

Just in case you did something completely embarrassing

but one thing you should know

don’t ever trust kim jaehwan

Especially when he’s a ghost

you were just gazing out into the night sky when you saw a glowing figure

you were about to freak out

BC ANOTHER GHOST!? JAEHWAN WAS ALREADY A HANDFUL

but then you saw that it was just Jaehwan

the ghost that you had somehow fell in love with

You really wished he was a person

As jaehwan spent more and more time w/you

the less and lesser you would be able to tap his shoulder, give him a small hug, or even high five him

It was like the very first time you tried to tap his shoulder, the first time you met

your fingers just went through him

you knew that you couldn’t let go of him

you missed his presence whenever you would wake up and not see him there on the floor, gazing blankly at the ceiling

Jaehwan was prob just lowkey stalking your other neighbor, Hwang Minhyun

I mean he still couldn’t believe someone could be so…..

clean

anyways

you don’t think you would be able to live without him

but that was just your selfish desires

You knew the longer jaehwan spent his time in the real world, the more dangerous it would become for him

Jaehwan would be turned into a human, but obviously he had to experience another death since he’s not supposed to be alive

but if that happened, he wouldn’t even get a chance to go to trial to go to Heaven

you didn’t want that

you would rather miss him for a bit then see him again in the form of an angel

so you decide to let him go at exactly 12am, January 1st of the new year

when jaehwan appears, he already knows you made up your mind

he could just tell from your eyes

both the sadness and determination

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Jaehwan?”

“I’m sorry I forgot I was a ghost the other day and tried to carry your guitar.”

you chuckle at his belated apology

“No worries”

The two of you spend the rest of the time talking about the three weeks you’ve spent together

it felt like you had been with him for years

Before you know it, it’s 11:58pm

ppl inside are already starting the countdown

Two minutes b4 the new year since seongwoo’s like that

Both of you know you’re running out of time

and you just suddenly break down in tears

you became so attached to the ghost in front of you in a matter of three weeks

It was like fate had brought you two together after he had died and give you the time to grow love for one another just to break you apart again

sure, it was only three weeks

But you already knew that you would be willing to spend the rest of your entire life with him

You had literally seen all sides of jaehwan

The good sides, the bad sides, the funny sides, the broken sides

“I love you, Y/N”

you look up in surprise

You were half expecting to be like

“AHhAHhahHAHkakkjakH LOVE YOUUUU”

And joke about it but

nope

you look in his eyes and you know he’s not joking around this time

your eyes were still half-filled w/tears, so you quickly rub them away in order so you can see jaehwan properly

But he’s fading away

WHY WAS HE FADING AWAY?

Jaehwan steps closer to you and you can actually feel… body heat?

you missed being able to actually physically touch jaehwan

he sadly smiles and all you see in his eyes are tears and genuinity

“I love you”

you hear the loud cheers of the people inside counting down from ten to finally celebrate the new year that will bring new New Year Resolutions and fresh starts

The countdown slowly fades away as you see the space between you and Jaehwan grow smaller and smaller

Just as you close your eyes and feel a light touch on your lips,

“ONEEEE WHOOOP!!!”

You hear cheers grow the loudest they’ve ever been that night

The touch…..

it’s gone

Jaehwan….

is gone

After Jaehwan just disappears into thin air, everything else is a blur

You remember woojin coming out to find you squatted down on the ground, about to cheer how it was the new year, but instead sees your face in your hands, and tears streaming down your face

he knew better than to ask what was wrong

he immediately takes you home and wishes you a Happy New Year and leaves a light, shy kiss on your forehead

if you hadn’t met jaehwan in the duration of your winter break, you prob would’ve been bursting with happiness rn

You had always had a small crush on woojin

but obviously it all changed when you had seen jaehwan

Instead, you offer a small smile, thank him for being such a supportive friend and bid him a safe walk back home

you trudge back into your room and fall face flat onto your bed

you want to cry

and…. you do

But as you struggle to calm down and get up to wash your face and move on with your life….

you hear a tiny crinkling of paper

you look over, confused and see a small piece of paper sticking out from the first fret of your guitar, fluttering from the wind that was being let in from your slightly open window

with trembling hands, you open it up and let some more tears fall

happy tears

“Merry New Year’s, Y/N! Don’t miss me too much. :P Move on with your life. Don’t forget about me though! I still want some attention you know lol (i used that slang word! Lol keke I saw it when you were texting that friend of yours lol) Thanks for letting me go. I will never forget you and all the things we’ve been through even though it’s been only three weeks. lol…

I love you. - Kim Jaehwan”

as you struggle to keep in your tears and not roll his eyes at his overuse of the “slang” word ‘lol’ you notice something falling out from the small note he had left

you crouch down and pick it up from the floor to see

his guitar pick

#and from the distance you can hear the laugh of kim jaehwan #thx for reading #wanna one #wanna one scenarios #wanna one bullet #kim jaehwan #wanna one jaehwan #wanna one au #jaehwan au #Ghost!AU #wanna one ghost #ghost!Jaehwan #wanna one fluff #jaehwan fluff #jaehwan angst #wanna one angst #and of course #rest in peace jonghyun #hope you are in a happier place

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