Possession
Roceit (Roman x Janus) Day Twenty: Possession Warnings: hypnosis, possession, overstimulation, dry orgasms, slightly ruined orgasms, crying, dacryphilia
Roman holds his video camera carefully, treating the tech like it's worth more than his life... which considering the hit his bank account took upon purchasing it, it might as well be.
Normally, ghost hunting would be too absurd a profession for him to even consider entertaining the idea... but entertaining the masses with easily-edited ghost-like content unfortunately fits his vibe. He enjoys the attention that comes with being brave enough to explore haunted places, and relishes in the praise he receives for either supporting or debunking these supernatural encounters. And he can get all of this adoration without having to do anything too laborious!
It's like he found the cheat code to being popular and successful, and really he'd be foolish not to exploit this opportunity.
He'd gone to abandoned schools, crumbling hospitals, and derelict houses that simply have their ghostly status stamped on due to looking broken down.
The latter of the three is what Roman's currently exploring, having driven two towns over in order to park on the curb outside of this two-story home that's been unoccupied for decades. The roof looks like it's caving in slightly, all of the windows are cracked, and plants have sprouted in the spaces between the bricks that make up the lower foundation of the building. The wood is scorched and splintered, and Roman makes a mental note to be careful when exploring inside. The last thing he needs is to cut his filming early because he's fallen through the floorboards and must venture to the hospital instead.
He shuffles to the side, making sure to get a large shot of the house to capture its devastation on film before he even thinks about stepping away from his car.
"This is 'The Old Dolion Place,'" he says, keeping his voice low and theatrical to help build a narrative for his video. He's obviously done his research before coming here, and using the alleged "reports" on the apparition sightings and personal experiences he's acquired to help tell a story. Does he believe anything he's saying? Well... not really; all of his previous "encounters" while ghost hunting have been nothing more than paranoia and brief fear when the buildings he's in begin to show their age by creaking or cracking. But that doesn't mean he can't act like he does! "Residents say that a family of three lived here a century ago - an old man, an old woman, and their odd son, born with a strange birth defect that caused him to look half-snake, half-man."
He takes a step towards the house while reaching into his back pocket. He'd printed a photo from an online article showing these people... or at least claiming to.
He smooths it out, and then holds it up in front of his camera, positioning it perfectly before the front door, where the three residents had taken this photo one hundred years ago.
There's indeed an older gentleman resting a hand on the waist of his maiden, with a man standing between them. This man - presumably their son - is noticeably an adult. He's a bit younger than Roman, maybe, but definitely no teenager. The photo is of poor quality outside of the general aesthetics, and there's definitely something going on with half of the son's body. But what most supernatural enthusiasts would claim is proof, Roman just calls an issue with the way the photo was developed. Something could have happened with the lighting, or the lens, or with the way the picture printed! Or it could have been edited; people have been faking photos for as long as the camera has existed - it's not outlandish to suspect that someone along the way decided to tweak the photo and stir up some mystery in order to give this town a token "haunted house."
"Mr. and Mrs. Dolion aren't as important as their son, as his soul is the one that's persisted in this place," Roman continues, as he lowers the photo and finally begins approaching the door. "The story goes that he suffered a horrific psychotic break, and set their house ablaze! But the fire didn't spread as efficiently as he would have liked due to the brick and mortar structure, and it was the smoke that killed everyone within... Not just his parents, but him as well."
Roman keeps his camera still as he reaches for the doorknob, which twists smoothly despite the condition of the door it's attached to. He only briefly glances behind him before stepping inside, looking back at the cloudy night sky and full moon that shroud this building in mystery.
He's also scanning for people that might be watching him - he's not doing anything illegal (he made sure to get permission from the town before breaking into abandoned and potentially liable buildings), but he'd still rather not draw the attention of any curious tweens who'd want to come mess with his recording or leap at the opportunity to be on film. And when he thankfully sees nobody, he steps fully inside, and shuts the door behind him.
The house itself is dim, but he expected nothing less, and fortunately the camera he's using has an attached flashlight. He clicks a button on the top of his tech, and suddenly light shoots out and splashes across the archaic space, illuminating the burnt furniture and bug-infested rugs.
Roman shivers as he steps over a beetle, and then skitters forward over a variety of millipedes and roaches who never thought a human would encroach on their territory.
He clears his throat as he begins to step around the stairwell and back towards the living room and kitchen. "Most accounts claim that the son, Janus Dolion, holds too much anguish to move on from this plane to the next. They also state that he's very territorial and possessive, punishing those who dare enter what used to be his room by scratching them, pulling their hair, and clouding their minds with violent thoughts of fire and flames."
Of course, none of the people Roman interviewed before his exploration had evidence of these marks nor any sort of photos that might display red scratches or ripped out hair, but alas.
The kitchen has black streaks of smoke that ripple over the tile, but remains surprisingly intact given the circumstances. Two of the upper cabinets have collapsed, and there's no power being delivered to the ajar fridge or dirty stove, but otherwise the place doesn't look half-bad!
He circles around the split dining tables and what remains of the chairs, and zooms in on some graffiti that's half-finished, as if someone got too spooked to finish it.
Then he makes his way to the living room, where the furniture is burnt open and dripping stuffing, creating a soft, uneven mess beneath his shoes. Pillows have been split open or burnt to a crisp, but he can tell they once were pillows, and it makes his chest... ache.
He sucks in a deep breath as he slides back towards the front door, and thus towards the staircase which tempts anyone who steps inside the building. Not only is it the first direction you're pushed upon entering, but it also takes you directly towards the bedrooms, which obviously would hold the most electro-magnetic energy - the energy ghosts channel.
Janus's room in particular is the meat and potatoes of this trip, and so Roman passes right by it so that he can save it for the climactic ending.
"This is the master bedroom," Roman says, as he pushes his way into the dilapidated room of Mr. and Mrs. Dolion. Unlike downstairs, the upstairs hallway and rooms are a disaster, having taken on the brunt of the flames. "The couple were laying together when they died... In this very bed."
He tries to hide his disgust as he angles his camera down at the sheets. He knows they haven't been changed, because it's well known the house hasn't been touched after the accident. Aside from a few excited townspeople who dare each other to spend the night - and a few vandals (like the one willing to paint the walls and leave their unfinished signature scribbled down in the kitchen) - nobody has rifled through the house and actually cleaned it out. Everyone's too spooked by the idea of a vengeful ghost to care about cleaning the burnt blood from the comforter.
The bodies aren't here anymore, at least, though that was really the bare minimum.
Roman moves to the side of the bed, and reaches for the drawer on their nightstand. Eager to see what secrets he may find (providing no one's looted the place of its little items yet), Roman finds himself... startled when the only thing the drawer contains is a framed photograph.
Why... here and not atop the bedside table?
But what's even more interesting is that the photo within isn't like the one Roman ripped off a Wiki site. Instead, it's a photo of an infant with weird scale-like textures on half of their body. The face is tight, but not crying, as though they're pouting. And the squinting eyes reveal heterochromia, with the pupil on the scaly side being slitted and abnormal.
Would this couple have edited a baby photo?
And if so, would they have kept it? It would make far more sense to copy it somehow, and keep the original while broadcasting a fake version. Not keeping the edited photograph slid intimate in a frame and tucked safely in the drawer of a nightstand.
This placement seemingly is the only thing that saved it, as the rest of the furniture here is in ruins. The bed itself is sitting on the floor, with the frame having been eaten away, and any other items that might have been atop the nightstands, dressers, or shelves have also been completely disintegrated by the disaster. The flimsy film the photo was printed on would have been easy fuel for the fire if not for the thick glass and wood keeping it contained.
Carefully, Roman begins to open up the frame in order to retrieve the image inside. He doesn't want to damage the item and so he moves slowly, prying back the metal clamps that keep the frame shut before slowly pulling out a thin slice of cardboard that allows it to lay flat. And once it's been dismantled, he holds the photo in his hand, staring down at it.
It sure is a baby...
He thumbs over the baby's cheek, testing to see whether the marks on their face is perhaps ink of some kind, but truthfully holding the picture in his hand like this just causes his breath to get caught in his throat.
The scales are so... defined, even on an older camera. They look extremely realistic; surely this family wouldn't have gone through the lengths of applying prosthetics to their infant for the sake of one important photo.
He's silent as he zooms his video camera in on the picture, only to jump out of his skin when he suddenly hears a clang down the hall.
He steps back, whipping towards the open door.
"Hello...?" he calls after a moment, tucking the baby photo carefully into his back pocket as he shuffles towards the hallway. "Is anybody there? This house is currently being... investigated, and nobody but me has been given permission to trespass."
He looks to the left, and then back to the right, tilting out of the doorway just to get a better look at the staircase only to nearly drop his camera when he sees somebody step out of Janus's room.
It looks like a man, and one who's snickering, arms crossed over his chest. He leans against the doorframe, shrouded in darkness so that neither Roman nor his high-quality camera can make out any specific features. Roman's stomach twists as he attempts to stand up taller to make himself more intimidating, only to find himself at a loss for words when the man teases "investigating? Really? Is that what you call what you're doing?"
Roman bites his bottom lip. "What else would I call it?"
"'Being a bother?'"
Huffing, Roman moves fully into the hallway, craning his neck to try and get a better look at the man. Still, he can't see anything from the shoulders up... but from the torso down, they look to be dressed in all black. Any finer details on the clothes are left up to the imagination as unfortunately the fabric blends in with everything else around them.
"I'm hardly bothering anyone," Roman mutters in reply. "I have permission to be here. What about you?"
The man laughs again, and then coos "who gave you permission, love? Mr. and Mrs. Dolion? Oh wait! They're dead!"
"From the city officials, obviously." Rolling his shoulders to try and ease some of the ache in his arms, Roman lowers his camera slightly. He tries to keep it angled on the man, but he's been holding it up for a while now. At the very least it'll capture audio, in case things go haywire. "What about you? I doubt anyone else could have obtained a go-ahead to enter, considering I was assured my time here would be solitary."
"Oh, love. I know for a fact that's not what you were told."
The man suddenly straightens his posture, and saunters forward. Shadows seem to warp around him, keeping his face hidden from Roman's searching eyes. "As a matter of fact, I bet you were told quite the opposite! Surely you were told about the ghost that haunts this place..."
Roman frowns, and then clicks his camera off. If this man is looking for a fight - which by the strides he's taking, he very well might be - Roman doesn't wish to damage his video camera in the process. He sets it on a little table in the hallway - one that's positioned a bit behind him so that this intruder can't swipe it and run off with a couple-thousand dollar piece of equipment.
"I don't believe in ghosts," he professes, in the hopes it'll end this little bit of banter his opposer is clearly attempting to start.
And, in all fairness, the man does stop dead in his tracks. "You... don't believe in ghosts?"
Roman can't interpret the feelings behind the question, and so he hesitates before answering "no... I don't. I think half of it is coincidence, and the other half is just interesting practical effects. Well, unless they're not practical effects, in which case whatever computer animation being used is typically easily identifiable. It's more believable if it's practical effects... Whatever, I'm getting side tracked." He wipes his hands on his pants, and then clasps them together as he more solidly clarifies "I don't believe in most supernatural things. It's more interesting to me if the magic comes from human creation instead of... otherworldly jargon."
Because if ghosts were real, that would mean other fantastical beings must be real, like fairies or mermaids or demons, and that would also mean they're so stupidly rare that no one's obtained inarguable proof of their existence!
And maybe if that's the case, Roman's a little peeved it's taken three decades for his life to get a bit magical...
"So why are you waltzing around speaking about history in a way that implies you believe what you're saying?"
Roman's eyebrows furrow. "Because it makes for good content. People are entertained when I craft a story that mixes true history, speculation, dramatized firsthand accounts, and a scare every now and then." He takes a step back to hopefully counteract the man's approach. "Besides, half of my job is debunking supernatural experiences. Half the locations I visit I deem not as haunted as they claim to be."
"And the other half you... lie about?"
Roman's lip quirks downwards, confused by the weird excitement this seems to spark in the man before him. "Well, I wouldn't call it lying," he starts, but he's caught off guard by the man before him setting his hands on his chest to keep going.
It’s not a violent push… but it’s not an innocent caress either.
“It’s lying,” the man insists, his face still obscured despite their proximity. It shouldn’t be; even with it being dark outside there was enough moonlight streaming in through the windows to provide ample visibility. The way this stranger is obscured is unnatural. “Not that there’s any harm in that. In fact, there’s something fascinating about the fact you came strutting in believing you wouldn’t find anything. No fear, no arrogance, no… nothing.”
When Roman tries to back away further, he finds only the wall behind him, and squeaks when he's pushed back roughly against it.
“Normally when people show up here, they tend to make a mockery of my life and afterlife. But you haven't quite crossed that line yet… which is great for both of us, because so long as you keep your mouth shut from here on out, I won't have to claw open your pretty skin until you run away screaming.”
Roman gulps. “What did you say your name was again…?” he croaks, his voice coming out far meeker than he otherwise would have liked.
And only then does the man before him finally lean into the light, bringing his face close to Roman's chest and revealing his half-human, half-snake features. He's grinning wide, narrowed eyes gleaming just as much as his sharp fangs, with a barely noticeable translucent hue to his entire body. “I'm Janus,” he hisses softly, “don't you recognize me? You swiped my baby picture, didn't you?”
Roman closes his mouth, opens it, and then closes it again.
He looks back at his camera, and curses at the unlit bulb. Why'd he have to turn his camera off the one time something crazy actually happens!
“You know… it's not respectful to imitate the dead,” Roman stammers, attempting to shimmy down the wall. If he can grab anything to wail at Janus's head, then he can make a break for it. Because the best case scenario is that this is a stranger who has a sick sense of humor, and in the worst case scenario this is a ghost who wants to kill him… or something!
“It's not very respectful to exploit them either,” Janus smoothly responds. “I think you owe me an apology.”
“Of course! Of course…” Roman tries to go anywhere, but trips over a bump in the rug beneath his feet, and ends up on his ass. Janus seems to glow as he passes by the doorway of his parents room, with their window letting in an excessive amount of moonlight that has him looking radiant. “I'm really sorry for… intruding, and telling stories that I got from random sources, and for stealing your baby photo! You can have it back if you'd like, and… and… and I'll leave and let the town know not to bother you… and… and…”
Janus crouches down, and reaches towards his face. And though Roman braces himself for something intense, what happens instead is Janus's fingers feel solid against his cheek as they stroke over his impressive jawline.
“Words mean little to me, love,” Janus speaks, his dulcet voice making Roman feel stupidly hot. “I've heard millions of words spoken over my decades of haunting. So as gorgeous as your voice is, I'm truthfully expecting a much more… involved apology. Something that truly shows how deeply your remorse runs.”
Roman’s imaginative mind immediately begins speculating the many different things such a vague statement can entail, and based on the way Janus’s expression contorts he’s clearly amused by Roman’s fear.
“Don’t worry,” he starts, his ethereal voice carrying through the empty hall. “I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“I’ve seen some of the marks,” Roman eventually splutters, his mouth dry. “The… The deep ones. All bloody. Were those actually you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to do that to me?”
Janus chuckles. “It’s tempting; leaving a few marks on you is an awfully tempting suggestion… but I did say I’d avoid hurting you too badly if you behaved, didn’t I?”
“I’m not sure you said it like that-”
“Shh.” Janus’s fingers begin to sink into Roman’s face, making his cheeks feel cold as Janus’s ghostly body is able to reach into him. And though the brain has no nerve endings, something about this whole situation seems to distort everything around him, meaning that he does feel Janus’s hands as they curl around his brain. “I just want to use your body for a bit. That’s not too much to ask, is it? You did break into my house, after all…”
“You don’t have a historically good record of taking care of your things,” Roman comments, though speaking gets harder and harder as Janus prods a specific area of his mind. “I mean… you blaze house set fire on. Kill scorch couch... fire... fire..."
"I didn't quite catch that last part, sweetheart," Janus croons. "Mind repeating yourself for me?"
Roman makes a face, and then tries again, though he really doesn't understand why Janus is asking. "Mean death fire start fire flame kill fire fire."
Janus can't help himself. He laughs outright as Roman's words scramble themselves on their way out of his mouth, all due to the fact Janus is messing with Wernicke's area. To Roman, his words probably sound somewhat logical, though Janus doubts he's even really formulating sentences with all the prodding Janus is doing. But to Janus it's utter nonsense, and he can't help the joy it brings him to watch Roman's face twist in confusion as Janus rubs over that part of his brain.
"You make no sense, love," Janus coos, "but it's okay. I know what you're trying to say. You're trying to tell me that all people - even ghosts - deserve a second chance to prove they can take much better care of their toys the second time around. The first fire was hardly my fault anyway, and I'm not exactly capable of starting a second one."
Roman blinks at Janus, not quite sure what was just spoken to him, and so Janus finally pulls his fingers away from Roman's skull.
Goosebumps arise over Roman's entire body as he feels Janus's hand slide out of him, where Janus then purrs "you're quite handsome, stranger. Far better eye candy than anyone else who's come stalking into my abode. And it's so lonely being a poor little ghost like myself; surely you'd want to do the honorable thing and keep me company... at least for a bit, right?"
Opening his mouth, Roman looks nervously over at his video camera, and then struggles to get his words straight as he asks "what kind of company do you want?"
To which Janus eagerly responds "the physical kind of company. The invasive kind. The kind where you let me defile you in exchange for... hm... good content."
Roman's nose scrunches as Janus circles him, before the ghostly being is explaining "I'll tell you what. You let me have a bit of fun, and I'll let you catch a few glimpses of me on camera. I'll be the most engaging little poltergeist for your career, and you'll get all the attention you so desperately crave from... whoever watches such pointless entertainment. I'll throw a few items around, I'll make a few noises... I'll even let you capture my face on camera, if you wish, but you must understand that living as a ghost is quite... restrictive."
"Restrictive how?" Roman sits up a bit straighter, his unease melting away at Janus's dulcet tone. Even though this entire situation is insane, something about the way Janus speaks soothes his mind in a way he can't quite describe. "I'd imagine it'd be the opposite. You can phase through solid objects, float, and aren't held back by human systems..."
Janus snickers. "That's all true... but I'm not allowed to leave the property, and it gets awfully boring with no one pretty around to keep me entertained."
He reaches for Roman's face, and strokes over his cheeks. "But you're here, and you're pretty, and you didn't take a can of spray paint to my kitchen so I harness no negative feelings for you yet. So what do you say we play together for a bit? You help me have some fun, I help boost your views, and then I let you go with little mental scarring and all of your brain intact."
"I just don't understand how you expect us to... play."
Janus smiles wide. "I can show you. I just need your permission. I'm physically incapable of using you otherwise."
There's something specific about Janus's wording that just leaves Roman itching for answers. And though probably idiotic of him, when else is he going to have the chance to get intimate with a ghost, and then capture an actual ghost on camera!
So Roman slowly nods, and responds "okay. That sounds like a deal to me," which has Janus utterly giddy.
He kneels down close to Roman, allowing Roman to fully inspect each of Janus's unique features. From his heterochromia, to his scaly side, to the ghost-like body that only really looks translucent when he stands in the light, but otherwise seems solid (aside from a residual glow). Janus seems to be looking over Roman with a similar amount of interest, pupils darting across the freckled bridge of Roman's nose and his handsome jawline. They're intimately close in a way that makes Roman flush, but as his heartbeat speeds up faster he can't say it's entirely due to fear.
And then Janus kisses him.
Roman squeaks and goes to pull back out of surprise, only to feel Janus's hand in the back of his hair, keeping him still as Janus deepens his affection. Their lips slide together skillfully, with Roman's historically romantic reputation meshing well with Janus's decade-old deprivation.
But then Janus does more than just kiss him. He begins to push himself into Roman, invading his body by mixing their souls together. It has Roman feeling feverish as the chill Janus brings with him mixes with Roman's hot-running figure, causing him to shiver as he jerks and twitches at the invasion.
At first, he feels like there's no room for Janus inside of him, but then he feels like he's being pushed back into a cozy, snug part of his brain. His entire self molded into an entity no longer in control of operating, but he's still a victim to his senses. He can feel cold air as it's sucked in through his mouth, and the floor beneath his palms as they're set against the wooden floor and used to hoist him up. But he's not the one moving his body. Janus is.
'What's going on?' Roman asks, only to hear his words reverberate within his brain. It doesn't come out of his mouth, as that's no longer a privilege he has.
Instead, Janus replies in his voice "you've been possessed, dear," as if that explains anything. He's walking down the hall towards his own room, and dragging Roman along with him as he has no choice but to bear witness to all of the decisions Janus chooses to make while inside of his body. "I left you completely and totally conscious, though bear in mind that most spirits tend to completely override their host's senses. Fortunately for you, I wanted to give you a night to remember for the rest of your life, and I couldn't do that if you were blacked out."
Roman has no idea how to put words to this situation; he feels like a ghost within his own body, but even calling himself that gives him too much freedom.
And yet he can't refer to himself as a prisoner of any kind, because truthfully he has no qualms about the predicament he's gotten himself into.
"You really are gorgeous," Janus then declares, as he pushes his way into his room. It's weird for Roman to hear his own voice praise himself, but even weirder to see the burnt remnants of what was once Janus's bedroom. Compared to the master, it looks like this room was the origin of the fire, despite how the story goes. The walls are black with the remnants of smoke and soot, and not a single piece of furniture has stood the test of time.
Surely there must have been a bed in here at some point, and perhaps a dresser, and maybe a photo or two, but now it's just... rubble.
And a mirror.
It's been warped from the heat, but it's not unusable, and Janus immediately moves to stand before it and admire the way he looks in Roman's body.
"Ironic that the one possession of mine not destroyed is a simple mirror I have no purpose for anymore," he comments, as he twists himself back and forth in front of the reflection. "I mean, sure, my ghostly self does appear on the surface, but I have no need to inspect myself anymore, nor am I allowed clothes outside of the ones I died in. It's such a boring life to exist in this way; you're so lucky, Roman."
Roman's blood runs cold... metaphorically, of course.
'How'd you know my name?' he questions, shock echoing through his mind. Janus laughs, and makes sure to watch the way Roman's eyes squint and his teeth gleam as he does so.
"Roman, sweetheart, I'm in your body. You must have assumed I'd be in your brain too, didn't you?"
Roman would purse his lips if he had any. 'Obviously not. How am I supposed to know how ghost possession works?'
Chuckling, Janus explains "the way it works is that I get to comb through all your memories as if they were mine. You've lived a very fun life, it seems. Twin brother... crazy parents... weird... YouTube career? Gross." Janus makes a face that displays rather cutely on Roman's countenance. Janus's snark feels perfectly fit for Roman's dramatic personality, but the way he carries himself is significantly more smug, and Roman finds himself flustered at how attractive it looks. "What about your sexual history? That's what I'm most curious about..."
Roman feels his… soul go hot at Janus’s humming, knowing that Janus is looking back on all of Roman’s previous sexual encounters. He tries to gauge Janus’s feelings about them, but finds the expression being displayed across his features to be unreadable.
“You know, being gay wasn’t something allowed when I was alive. Didn’t stop a majority of us, but it did result in far more deaths than I would have liked.”
‘Deaths?’
“Mhm.” Janus nods his head, a sad expression written across his features. "Many acquaintances of mine found themselves targeted and beaten solely because of who they loved. While I never pursued anyone, I could very much relate to that discrimination. After all, being half snake isn't very godly, now is it?"
Roman goes quiet, and then murmurs 'I think it's rather pretty.'
Janus's smile stretches wide, but he lets the compliment roll off his back as he redirects them back to Roman's thoughts, happily expressing "it's so delightful to see how... open you've been with your attraction to men. You certainly have plenty of experience pleasing a partner; it must be nice to know you get to have a more submissive role this time."
'It's certainly... new.'
"Is it good?"
Roman huffs. 'Maybe it would be if anything had actually happened. I don't have all the time in the world, you know; unlike you some of us actually have bills to pay. And a twelve hour time limit on his exploration lest he wants to be arrested for trespassing...'
Rolling his eyes, Janus sighs out "alright. I won't dilly-dally any longer. Let's get you out of these conservative clothes; a model like you should truly be strutting about in far less anyway."
'Wait-' Roman gasps, as Janus begins pulling the fabric with his body. He's forced to watch as his shirt and pants are quickly stripped from his skin, exposing his athletic build underneath. Years of sports, parkour, and investigating abandoned buildings has left him in good shape, and the physique he's developed as a result is one Janus seems particularly fond of.
"So beautiful," Janus croons, as he runs his fingers down Roman's body. From his pectorals to his abs, all the way down to the waistband of Roman's briefs (that leave very little to the imagination). "What a waste to spend your life behind a camera when you should be in front of it instead."
'I capture some shots of myself, but that's not what people are interested in.'
Janus makes a noise, and then smoothly responds "well then perhaps you need to find a better audience. I've been around long enough to know that men like you can thrive off of just being pretty. I used to be a man like that."
'I thought-'
Cutting him off before he can point out Janus's scales, Janus hastily retorts "as monstrous as some claim my appearance was, you must understand it still would have made thousands. Look at all the people eager to break into my abode without my body even inside; you can only imagine what it was like my entire youth. Plenty of suitors, circus recruiters, and religious fanatics all fighting for a piece of me."
'How romantic,' Roman sassily responds, which nets a laugh from Janus that sounds so cute tumbling out in Roman's voice.
"It really was," Janus sighs, and then begins to tease the waistband of Roman's briefs. "But enough about me; let's talk about you. Do I need to dig through your memories to discover which parts of you are the most sensitive, or are you going to be a good little vessel and tell me?"
If Roman still had a face to blush with, he'd be bright red. The way Janus addresses him is so demeaning, but makes him feel warm and fuzzy at the same time. He wonders if the heat he's experiencing is reflected in his body, or if he's completely separate from it now, though finds himself responding with an embarrassed 'uhm,' upon being prompted.
He's never really paid attention to what parts of him are sensitive; he's never been in a role where that was allowed.
He always had the expectation to please others, and though his partners had frequently run their hands over his body, their worship started and ended there. He's attractive to look at, but his role was always clearly to be the one administering the pleasure.
And so he honestly replies 'I have no clue. I don't... touch myself like that, and other people have no interest in feeling me up outside of brief foreplay.'
It's kind of embarrassing to admit, but it causes Janus's eyebrows to raise in surprise, as he murmurs "really? I would have expected the opposite! How is anybody supposed to keep their hands off of you? Why, from the very moment you pulled up to my house I was watching you eagerly through the window, waiting for you to cross into my influence so that I'd have the chance to graze against you."
And even though Roman wants to squeal that Janus is just saying that in order to convince Roman to stay submissive and obedient, Roman chooses to believe that it's the truth, and he moans as a result of it.
"You poor, poor thing," Janus then continues to coo, his voice making Roman's brain feel thick and heavy. Why think of those past experiences when Janus is right here with him, giving him a much better time than he's had in the past. "Don't worry; I'll make sure our playtime is extra special. Have you ever been hypnotized, doll?"
'Isn't... Isn't hypnosis fake?'
Chuckling, Janus shakes his head, and slowly drops Roman's briefs down to his ankles. "Not in the slightest. In fact, it's more than just a fun little hobby. For people like me, hypnosis has been a tool in many key points in my life. From dissuading assailants who were yearning to set my house ablaze to calming myself down after horribly annoying nights. But it can be used to bring pleasure, if you'd like to try."
'How will it work? Aren't you in my body?'
"Well... yes, and so to some extent I'll fall victim to my own words." Janus steps closer to the mirror, running his fingers teasingly along the length of Roman's half-hard shaft. It twitches beneath his touch, and he can feel Roman's soul writhing at the attention. It's so perverse seeing himself like this, and he doesn't realize how egotistical it is to get off to the sight of his own body.
“But it’ll affect you far more than it’ll affect me, as even though you can’t control yourself, you are still the primary soul connected to your nervous system. You’ll experience the full force of every sensation I bring to your body… I merely fought for a fraction of that feeling. It’s better than feeling nothing at all.”
‘So… you can’t feel anything?’
“Not as intensely as you are.” Janus curls his fingers around his shaft, bringing forth the visual of Roman touching himself. Without the context of his possession it’d merely look like he was just getting off to the sight of his own body. “But don’t worry, I’m not left without. I’m amply pleasured just by the sweet sounds you make, as though you’ve never been touched like this before.
Well, technically Roman hasn’t been touched like this before; he’s never been possessed, obviously. But he knows what Janus means, and he’s noisy as a result.
“Your body is also adorably sensitive… compared to my own, anyway. Is your entire generation this pitiful, or are you just uniquely easily aroused?”
‘I… I don’t…’
“Shh… It’s a rhetorical question. I’m teasing you. You’re cute.”
Roman’s head feels thick, and this thickness manifests both physically and mentally. He finds it harder to put words together, and also feels like the place where his soul is being stored is slowly starting to fill with thick, viscous honey. He’s slowed down in a literal sense as Janus begins touching him properly, running his hand curiously up Roman’s cock, and then back down to the tip, milking a lone droplet of pre from the slit.
“Let me hypnotize you, doll,” Janus quietly implores. “Let me hypnotize us both, and truly mix our souls together in the most pure and perverse of ways.”
Roman watches as his other hand raises up to circle around his erect nipples, taunting Roman by merely nearing the areola, but not quite touching the eager bud. Janus is looking himself in the eyes, but in doing so is looking past them, and into Roman’s very essence.
And so Roman whimpers out ‘Okay. You can… You can do whatever you want to me…’
Janus grins. “So susceptible,” he purrs. “I can’t believe you possess so many memories of being on top, when we both know you’ll make a much better bottom.”
Janus sinks to his knees, giving Roman the view of himself in a dramatically sensual position - his knees are spread and his chest puffed out, and Janus is still pumping his cock with the end goal of making Roman come.
He raises his free hand up to his head, where even though Roman’s fingers are solid and don’t go further, Roman can feel Janus’s ghostly digits proceed unaffected by the physical border, and dip once again into his brain.
“Let’s see what we can mess around with,” Janus mutters, as Roman feels Janus’s presence invade his thoughts. “What connections can we make? Hm… Well, I’d make it so that staring at your gorgeous body was overtly arousing, but that seems to already be the case. I suppose I could have you find the charming sound of my voice both attractive and persuasive, but it appears you already do. What if…”
In the most defiling of ways, Roman feels Janus’s finger slide over the center of his brain - where the right and left hemispheres meet.
Janus doesn’t say anything else, but instead begins to think it, and because he’s partially infused with Roman’s brain it means Roman gets static-like gleams into Janus’s thoughts. Nothing clear comes through, but things don’t need to be clear when they’re mixed into one being. When they’re this close.
It’s through this method that Janus begins to speak suggestions into Roman’s mind, filling it with wants and needs and responses to stimuli Roman’s eager to see function in practice.
‘Your body twitches beneath my touches, but to watch it heed to my word like I’m your god would be so much fun. Imagine it, Roman. Imagine I simply say ‘come,’ and you come.’
Roman can imagine it - vividly, in fact. Janus’s own imagery as to what this scenario might look like bleeds into Roman’s swirling imagination until he can’t tell where his fantasies end, and Janus’s begins. As far as he knows, they both want the same thing, and are picturing his pathetic response to look so adorably similar.
‘Let me just… poke here… and here… pinch this bit…’
Roman finds himself getting hazy, but suddenly snaps to attention when Janus’s hand recedes. The loss of his caressing over Roman’s wrinkled brain leaves Roman desperate for that affection to return, only to be reminded that Janus is stroking him off when Janus tightens his grip around the base of Roman’s cock to help direct his attention back towards the present.
“There we go,” Roman hears his own voice sweetly say, making him dizzy. “You’re now the most obedient vessel I’ve ever played with. Do you feel honored?”
‘Ah… Uhm… I…’
“Of course you do.” Janus masks a snicker with the palm of his hand, before bending down and lifting his hips into the air. It makes Roman look so whorish…
“Do you want to see what I did?” Janus then prompts. “I’m sure you can assume, but it’ll be fun to see it in practice, don’t you think?”
And yes, Roman is indeed curious. Will he come if Janus so much as speaks the singular word? How will his body react to Janus’s commands? Like they’re reality? Like they’re fact? Like… like… like Roman is just a tool Janus can control however he so pleases?
He’s already maneuvering Roman’s limbs with ease; it just makes sense for him to manage Roman’s bodily functions too. Such as his orgasms.
But surprisingly, that’s not what Janus starts off with.
Instead, he speaks the word “cry,” and watches as Roman’s eyes begin to steadily fill with tears.
Sobs bubble up in his chest and spill out of his mouth, sounding beautiful as they mix with Janus’s growing laughter. It makes Roman look hysteric as he nuzzles his face into the scorched ground, crying nonstop with a smile on his face.
“Oh… Oh my…” Janus hiccups, as Roman’s cries tear through him. “You… You look so pretty.”
Roman's own cries echo throughout his skull, sounding twice as loud as they dribble from both Janus's lips and Roman's soul. He sobs with an intensity he's never sobbed before, unable to stop crying as Janus's words force his body to obey.
And based on the way Janus's eyebrows raise in admiration, Roman can tell he won't be free from his tears anytime soon.
"Isn't it attractive how easily your body obeys my whims? How obedient a vessel you are; I didn't even need to say please."
Roman can't compose himself, stuck in this loop of extreme emotion within his mind. He swears he can feel tears cascading down his cheeks, but he doesn't have a face anymore, nor should he have the ability to produce tears. And yet his soul bawls with the same vigor his body does, meaning that Janus gets to hear Roman's cries twice as loud, as they echo throughout his skull and pour from his parted lips.
"I can do more than just make you cry, too," Janus then gasps out. "Would you like to see how else your body twists to serve me?"
'Y-yes!'
"Are you waiting for me to tell you to come?"
'Yes! Yes!'
"So soon?" Janus wipes some of the tears from his face with his shoulder, and lets his head fall back in pleasure. Roman watches through half-lidded eyes as Janus touches his cock with a tightening grip, making him groan between sobs. "I've barely played with you, and you already want to come? You know I won't stop when you do; I'll force you into overstimulation over and over and over again until I'm satisfied. Do you understand?"
'Please,' Roman cries, more desperately now. He feels so hot trapped in his own mind, watching Janus dangle his orgasm in front of his face. Since he mentioned it he must know it's been eating at what's left of Roman's mind! 'Please!'
Janus would roll his eyes if he wasn't so easily persuaded by Roman's begging. To hear him sound so utterly broken, desperate for Janus's influence to forcibly rip his climax from his testes and bring forth the most extreme pleasure he'll likely ever feel in his life is... appealing. He knew he made a good choice saving his possessive abilities this long; he wanted to make his first time special.
Which is why he's using all the knowledge he's gathered from previous encounters. His poking at Roman's brain, his control of Roman's body - which is a lot harder piloting the entire thing as opposed to just one limb (despite what one might think, it's not similar to just waking up in someone else's body because Roman's sharing the space with him) - all of it are things he's spent years doing to the rude trespassers he's had on his property.
But as annoying as Roman's unwanted presence might be... the fact he's attractive more than makes up for it.
So what Janus is a little superficial? He's been dead for years; he might as well savor the lone sexy gay guy that decided to try and film him! He sits up straight to truly get a final good look at Roman in the mirror before them - sparing Roman from the humiliation of looking like he was presenting himself to anyone who happened to be behind him - and then smiles wide with anticipation.
He means what he says, though - he doesn't intend on letting their encounter be one-and-done. Roman promised to let him have his fun in exchange for good content, and Janus is going to drain him dry if he wishes to capture Janus's glowing countenance on camera.
And so he utters "come," just quiet enough for the words to bounce around his head and flood Roman's soul with uncontrollable heat. And his body responds fast just like Janus declared it would, convulsing in seconds as Roman's voice fills the room, his sobs of pleasure heavy and breathy. Janus hasn't cried like this in years, but he's forced to now that Roman's body is overwhelmed with his commands and the enjoyment he's experiencing. Roman's orgasm is just as ecstatic to him, though Roman's screams drown out any of the groans Janus utters under his breath.
He continues stroking Roman's cock through his orgasm, milking out streak after streak of semen until the shaft twitches and softens in his grip. But he doesn't release it - he told Roman they weren't stopping.
But Roman doesn't seem to realize Janus was being serious until the overstimulation rapidly begins to settle in him.
'Wait,' Roman pleads, still hiccupping pitifully. 'It's too much, p-please!'
"You can handle it," Janus swiftly states, his voice low and raspy. "You're big and strong, aren't you, Roman? You can go again. You can come again."
And Roman does a second time, shocked by Janus's use of the command and how readily he responds to it. Another sob shakes through his body as a second orgasm comes shooting out of his cock far sooner than it realistically should have. While still recuperating through his refractory period his body simply ignores how limp his shaft is and how exhausted he is already in order to respond quickly to Janus's words. And the way he trembles at this makes Janus pant, as Janus buzzes with overstimulation as he's also forced to experience Roman's next orgasm without any sort of respite.
Little semen shoots out of them, but that barely matters, as Roman's chest hits the floor hard.
His face partially lands in the puddle of come he's just made, and though Janus cringes at the position, he finds himself too tired to move. Two orgasms have sapped up this much energy from Roman already? It's almost amusingly pitiful... but Janus still isn't done.
Both hands curl around Roman's cock, pumping it up and down as he fucks the soft length between his fists, both of them still crying per Janus's earlier implorations.
'Too much,' Roman whimpers, between moans he's unable to stifle. It's so much pleasure in such little time; Janus's torment of him feels absurdly fast, and yet torturously slow. 'Janus, please...'
"You can take it," Janus huskily whispers. "You can take it. Say it. Say you can take it."
'I can take it,' Roman cries, at the same time his body forces Janus to say it as well. And though Roman believes he really can't, he lets himself give in to the pleasure anyway because Janus is persuasive, and he feels so good that the idea of it stopping feels almost as horrible as overworking his poor little cock. 'I can take it. I can take it. I can take it.'
"Good boy," Janus breathes, tears actively wetting his face. "Good boy, Roman; you're such a good listener. Do you feel good?"
'I can take it.'
"Answer me, Roman. Do you feel good?"
'Yes. Yes I- I feel so good.'
Janus moves his hands whilst thrusting his hips, using the come that's dripping down Roman's shaft as lubricant which allows his palms to fuck with less resistance. His grip tightens enough to make them both moan, heat beginning to make him sweat as he pushes Roman's body further.
But he's not keen on letting Roman come without his words there to guide him; Roman's body should respond to him and him alone. No giving in to his body's desires when Janus's words are a much better form of guidance. Why trust a figure that can be so easily possessed and controlled? Why not obey the ghost that's piloting him? After all, Janus is bringing him pleasure unlike anything he's ever experienced before; doesn't he want that? To be completely helpless and at Janus's mercy?
"Come," Janus speaks, and feels himself shake as Roman's climax washes over him. Blissful endorphins flood his mind as little semen dribbles out the slit of his cock, but Janus barely lets Roman appreciate his current release before he's repeating "come," just to listen to Roman's tormented sobs as his third orgasm is ruined in favor of his body sending him shuddering into his fourth.
"Again," Janus hisses between shaky sobs, "come again."
Electricity ripples through Roman's body, shooting up his spine and through his veins, leaving him unable to even speak. He can no longer enunciate his pleas, and so just cries as he comes again, and again, and again per Janus's commands. Will he stop at five? Will he do more?"
"Again," Janus whimpers. "Do it again."
Six.
"One more."
Seven.
"Come for me, Roman."
Eight.
His vision begins to spot, and his head feels thick and hot. His cries have become muffled in his ears, and he feels like he's seconds away from passing out. He's experiencing disorienting movement as his body collapses fully against the ground, laying on his side as his legs jerk with involuntary twitches, and his cock lays limp between his thighs.
A chill courses through him, followed by the pressure in his head alleviating, and Roman's soul feeling far less cramped.
When he goes to brush his sweaty hair out of his face, he finds he's actually capable of moving by himself, and his cries no longer stack against each other as Janus sobs alongside him. It's just his own sniffling now, and even that begins to slowly cease as Janus's wispy voice whispers "shh, Roman. No more tears. No more crying. You're okay. Everything's okay."
It doesn't stop instantaneously - perhaps because Janus no longer has a veritable grasp on his brain - but overtime his bawling is stifled into mere snot-nosed whining, which is suitable enough for Janus to crouch down beside him. As his fingers scratch against Roman's scalp, it brings Roman brief relief from the heat overwhelming him, as Janus is wonderfully cold.
"I had so much fun," Janus murmurs, filling Roman's ringing ears with sweet praise. "Your body was a wonderful host for my soul. I apologize for the discomfort of displacing you, but I'm sure you don't mind that much..."
Roman tries to push himself up, but he can barely lift his arms, and so he just makes a pathetic noise and hopes Janus gets the message.
Janus chuckles, muffling his laughter with the palm of his hand as he sighs out "I'm sure you're exhausted. I'd offer you my bed, but there's not much left of the furniture... But feel free to stay until you're recuperated enough to continue your venture. You still have plenty of scenes left to capture for your little film; I don't intend on going back on my word, but if you're unable to get the shots then that's hardly my fault..."
Roman whines out a more pronounced "rude," that makes Janus laugh outright, as he moves to stand.
"Your clothes are beside you; I'll do you a favor and bring your camera in here so you needn't venture all the way out into the hallway to grab it." Roman watches as Janus pushes himself to his feet, and then shuffles towards the open doorway. "No need to thank me; I'm doing this out of the kindness of my non-beating heart."
Janus makes no noise as he leaves the room - if he’s walking, there are no footsteps, so he very well might be floating - but he returns with Roman’s camera cradled carefully in hand. He bends down and sets it by Roman’s head - near the mirror, but far enough away from the mess he’s made that it’s not at risk of being damaged.
“Reach for it and begin recording whenever you please,” Janus instructs, as he kneels down by Roman’s side. His hands rest on Roman’s bare chest, but he sighs as none of Roman’s bodily warmth transfers to him. He has no skin to feel Roman’s heat; he just knows he’s absolutely radiating with it. “Just give me some sort of warning before capturing me on camera; I wish to look presentable for my first time before an audience. Well, technically not my first time… Whatever, I shouldn’t dwell on the semantics.”
He checks himself in the mirror, and notices Roman staring at his glowing body with half-lidded eyes.
“You’re really quite beautiful,” Roman whispers, his mouth moving slowly as if saying anything is currently a struggle amidst his exhaustion. “The photos don’t do you justice.”
And Janus really can’t help but smile. “You’re just as gorgeous,” he coos in reply. “Perhaps not as unique as I… but still pretty enough to be worthwhile. I don’t extend this offer often… Truthfully, never, really, but feel free to come back anytime. I’d love to play with you again sometime.”
Goosebumps arise over Roman’s body, and a trembling noise spills from his lips. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he quietly replies, before finally pushing himself upright.
As much as he’d love to lay here forever, he has a video to record and a deadline to meet.
He’ll just have to remember to come back sometime… And preferably, he’ll keep in mind to be donned in far less clothing.
