【jojo five parts】【velvet rice】Deliberately Shortsighted

Essence or drugs may numb the nerves, tricking you into thinking you can handle more pain. "As the last words came out, the man's hands grabbed his neckline and forced downward, and the fabric opened with a clear tearing sound.

Mista gasped in shock.But this was not over yet, before he had time to feel sorry for the vest, Giorno grabbed both sides of the slit and tore the entire front of the vest in half, hanging on Mista's arm like a vest.Giorno spent some time admiring his muscles. Although he didn't say a word, Mista felt his face warm up slightly.Giorno walked around behind him, he couldn't turn his head, only felt that the man stretched out his hand to hold the poor two-piece vest, tore off the shoulder strap with force, and then threw the tattered fabric aside.Mista was pulled by him so that his arms sank, and his wrist was strangled by the rope.

Now his upper body is naked and his limbs are tied up, like a lamb that has been shaved and hung up for display. This exposed and vulnerable feeling makes him nervous and embarrassed, but he knows that this is not the same as fear .There seemed to be some kind of stupid and unfounded intuition in my heart, telling him that it was safe to be with this man.Mista's intuition has always been accurate.Hopefully this time too, he thought.

Giorno walked to the table, took a little look at the items on the table, picked up one of them, and walked back to stand behind Mista.Immediately afterwards, without any warning, Mista was hit on the shoulder.There was a snap, and the crisp and loud whip sound accompanied his exclamation.The force of the first blow was not great. The leather whip Giorno chose was covered with a layer of suede soft goatskin, and it only brought a slight tingling sensation when it landed on the skin, making him itchy.Then, again.This time Mista did not make a sound.Giorno rotated his wrist, keeping the whip at an unhurried pace, and slapped his upper back a few more times, until Mista felt that every inch of skin on the back of his shoulders had been taken care of, and he didn't stop. The whip was lowered.

Giorno pushed up from behind, pinched his chin with his hands, lifted his head back, and put it against his ear, "The warm-up is done, now we are about to start. Remember your safe word." The man put When he opened his hand, his fingers lightly brushed against his neck; Mista was still reminiscing about that short touch, and the next second, the whip landed on his left shoulder.

This time it was a real flogging.He almost couldn't hold back the pain.There was a burning pain in the shoulder, like being scalded by boiling water. Compared with this, the previous warm-ups were nothing more than slaps.Giorno held the whip in his backhand and swung it vigorously towards his left shoulder, then switched to his forehand and swung it towards his right shoulder, back and forth, waving it on his back.The speed of the whip falling was not very fast, but every blow was crisp and violent, falling behind his two shoulders without hesitation.He subconsciously twisted his body a few times to escape from under it, but the ropes around his wrists and ankles were tied so tightly that there was no room for him.After getting used to it the first few times, there was nothing in the first few minutes. He couldn't stand the pain, so he just said that he had been on the field for so many years; but after a while, Giorno seemed to be A precise machine, every time the whip landed on the same place, repeatedly whipping the small piece of skin near the head of his shoulder.After a long time, it was really painful, and he almost suspected that the skin in that place was about to break.He was about to ask him to change places, but Giorno shouted one step ahead of him: "Quiet!" The man didn't even see his face, but he seemed to be able to predict it in advance, like a prophet.

Mista closed his mouth and closed his eyes, silently counting the whips in his heart.Once vision is lost, the skin becomes extremely sensitive.The whip was like a tongue of fire, licking his back, the whole skin seemed to be soaked in hot oil, but the man still didn't think it was enough, and continued to heat him up.The horrific heat finally slowly extended down from the shoulder blades, which made Mista heave a sigh of relief but had new worries.When the whip hit his waist, he finally couldn't help screaming out.This time it was painful and numb, and he even curled up his toes.Giorno seemed to be very satisfied with this reaction - or extremely dissatisfied - Mista couldn't look back at him, so he couldn't guess, only by feeling that the blond man let the whip linger around his waist for a while, Only then was he willing to move away.

The whipping stopped, giving Mista a moment to catch his breath.Giorno came to him and patted his cheek to make him open his eyes and look at him. "Pain?" the man asked.This is not out of concern, but simply to confirm the status.

not enough.Mista knew that this was still just the beginning. What he wanted to vent was something more painful than pain, and what he was looking for was still hidden in the back, and he hadn't seen it yet. "...go on," he said.

Satisfaction and appreciation flashed across Giorno's eyes. "Then say 'please.'"

"Go ahead, sir."

Giorno stood behind him again, this time a little further away.At first, his rhythm was very slow, and then gradually accelerated, his whole arm was extended to swing the whip, and the movements became faster and faster, leaving hardly any time for breathing.The whip fell on his back like a storm, and Mista felt his heart beating wildly with the rhythm, as if the only thing left in the world was the sound of the drum.His head was buzzing, the endorphins made the blood rush in his veins, the pain and burning sensation were far away, his body seemed to become very light, and his consciousness seemed to be drifting into the distance.Mistakenly, for the first time in a long time, Mista felt relaxed.Guilt and fatigue could not bind him anymore; nothing could bind him.He saw the way and wanted to get out of the life that trapped him like a quagmire.He is going to be free.

Giorno, however, stopped.

The blond young man walked forward again, raised his hand to pinch his chin, leaned over his face, and looked into his eyes carefully.Mista, the man called his name, and at the same time reached out and slapped him hard. "Are you still here?"

Mista raised his head, and all he could see in front of him was the other party's outrageously blue eyes, with his own face reflected in them.It was as if the blisters were suddenly punctured, and everything felt back to reality.He opened his mouth and grunted, he didn't know what he wanted to say, and his voice was a bit hoarse, and then he was interrupted by a big gasp.The physical exertion was extremely fierce, but the tug-of-war was obviously two-sided: at such a close distance, Mista could see traces of sweat sliding down Giorno's nose.A few strands of the man's blond hair were scattered, wet from sweat to a sandy-gold color, sticking to the edge of his face, looking damn sexy.

And those beautiful blue eyes were still looking at him.

"Yes... yes, sir." Mista finally recovered her voice.

Giorno stared into his eyes for a while, which reminded Mista that when the doctor checked whether people were dead or not, they would shine a flashlight on the pupils of those people. "Very good." Finally, the man backed away.Mista looked at the face of the other party going away, and suddenly felt a sense of loss in his heart, which made him both shocked and frightened.Must be crazy, he thought.It must be this place, the whipping just now must have made people's brains muddy.

"Your consciousness must be here, and cannot float to other places," Giorno walked back to the table where the whip was placed, and picked up another whip. "Because it's punishment, not anything else. So you have to be here when you're whipped, and you have to realize that you're being punished. Otherwise, you won't really face it, and you won't be able to truly be free," he said. With that, he walked back.Mista saw clearly what he was holding in his hand.A rubber whip.

"I have to make it clear to you," Giorno said slowly, making sure the message was fully conveyed. "The rubber whip will cause more pain, which means that what you will face next is not the same level as before. Although you can stop at any time, I think you'd better think carefully now, whether Still want to continue."

The black rubber whip was wrapped around Giorno's hand, which looked quite heavy.Mista watched it and swallowed.His heart was still beating violently, but he knew it wasn't from nervousness or fear.He still remembered the wonderful feeling a few minutes ago—the feeling of relaxation and freedom, although it was short-lived, he drew enough strength from it.Giorno is right, he doesn't deserve this, he doesn't deserve this kind of life.That feeling made Mista remember what life should be like, and she looked forward to it.He is courageous in this anticipation.

It's time to end. "Come on," he said, "please. I want this."

Giorno looked into his eyes seriously, nodded after receiving the confirmation, and walked back. "You can shout, it is allowed. Also, during the whipping process, focus on yourself, don't think about anything else, and leave everything else to me."

There seemed to be some special power in this man's voice.Maybe it was his tone, or his eyes and expression when he spoke; Mista couldn't figure it out, and he didn't have the extra energy to figure it out right now, he only knew that what this man said made him feel at ease, and his intuition could be trusted.

He gave a cry as the first whip fell.Giorno wasn't lying, it really hurt.The back seemed to be cooked with oil, and it seemed to have been cut by a knife.Before he could digest the pain, the next whip came up again.The burning pain made him cry out.For a moment, he didn't know if he could bear this and how much he could bear, but... feeling this, he remembered Giorno's words and focused on himself.

When he didn't think about anything and quietly chose to accept, Mista felt the pain more clearly than ever before, he let go of himself, and roared loudly with the sound of the whip falling.No more alcohol paralysis as an excuse to escape, this pain made him sober, finally willing to face everything.Tears dripped down together with sweat, and he roared loudly, venting his pain.The physical pain was so strong it was like a tide sweeping in and washing everything away.The hopeless life, the disappointment of others, his own disappointment, insecurity, guilt... let it all go.He will drop them.He's going to move on.

When it was over, Mista was too tired to move.Thanks to the ropes that bound his hands and feet, he didn't collapse; for the first time, he was grateful to Giorno for the tightness he tied the ropes.Giorno swiftly released him from the bondage, supporting him with his shoulders and chest while carefully avoiding the man's back.Mista's mind is still a little unclear now, and his reaction to everything is a bit slower. If it is normal, this will definitely arouse his vigilance. However, when his head rests on Giorno's neck, he takes advantage of the situation The strength of the whole body was handed over, and he just lay on the opponent's slightly thin but strong chest, as if there was only such a support left in the world, and he knew that this support would not fall down, because Giorno said, Everything else can be left to him.

When he felt a warm and tingling pain in his back, Mista came back to his senses and found that Giorno had got a small basin of warm water from nowhere, and was pressing his back bit by bit with a towel. , moving gently and carefully.The man's breath hit Mista's back, where the skin was now so sensitive that even the slightest irritation made him shudder.Giorno seemed to see his worry, couldn't help but smile, and then brought him to the mirror standing by the wall of the club. "The whipping effect is more satisfactory than I imagined. Would you like to see it? Your back is very beautiful now."

Mista turned to look at herself in the mirror.Although he couldn't see the whole back, he was surprised to find that there was not even a single wound on his back—he thought he was going to bleed.The entire back is a healthy and enthusiastic pink, and the part that has not been cleaned by the towel is still covered with a layer of sweat, making the whipped skin slightly shiny and vibrant.Mista stared dumbfounded for a while, then turned his head and looked at Giorno with a complicated expression. Before he could speak, his face was already emitting heat. "You...I mean...I thought..."

Giorno blinked and said with a smile: "Then, I'll take this as a compliment." After finishing speaking, he walked up to hold his hand, pulled Mista back to the box, and continued to clean up for him .Mista wanted to say that he could come by himself, but half of him felt embarrassed, but the other half was still immersed in the beauty of this trance, too tired to move.Different from the feeling of wiping, suddenly, he felt something falling on the back of his neck, soft to the touch, rubbing against it lightly; it might be an illusion, or it might not be, but he couldn't think of what it was.His mind can't think much now.

After wiping off the sweat from his skin, Giorno helped him apply another layer of ointment.When the cool jelly touched his still-hot back, Mista couldn't help but flinch.Giorno stopped moving. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Mista nodded, "I'm fine."

Giorno hummed, and continued to move his fingers.Mista thought for a while, and then said again: "I mean... I'm fine. Thank you, Giorno."

He felt the man behind him pause, and then there was a soft reply.Well, said the man, I know, Mista.There was no basis for it, but Mista felt that the man was smiling when he spoke.

Later, Giorno drove him home.After seeing the driver's license of the blond young man, Mista finally admitted that this guy was an adult, and he was only three years younger than himself.Sure enough, faces are deceiving.Because of the ointment on his back, he could only lie on the back seat and mutter; while Giorno was driving, looking at him from the rearview mirror from time to time.In order to take care of him not wearing a shirt, the warm air in the car was turned on at full force, coupled with the great physical exertion, Mista was a little drowsy.He misses his bed and pillows terribly now.

Hey, are you really a rookie?Why... He half-closed his eyes and muttered to the man, before he could answer, he interrupted himself.No, no, he didn't even have the strength to shake his head, his head lying on the seat only shook his head symbolically twice.That's not what I'm asking, he murmured.I want to ask, in the future...will I still see you?No, no, not this, what I want to ask is definitely not this... What is it? ...Are you a rookie?

He forgot how Giorno answered—maybe the other party didn't answer at all, anyway, when Mista woke up again, Giorno was patting him on the cheek. "Here we are," the blond man urged him to get out of the car in a businesslike tone, but the small arc at the corner of his mouth betrayed his mood.Mista rubbed her hair and walked up the steps of the apartment.

He turned his head to look at Giorno.Giorno leaned against the car door, and was also looking up.Half of the man's body was submerged in the darkness, while the other half was cast with a gentle light shadow by the dim yellow headlights.It's like some kind of illusion: this man seems to have come out of the darkness, and is about to bring this golden soft light to the earth.It makes him seem unreal.The whole night didn't seem real.But Mista's mood at this moment did not lie, he was relaxed, stable, and shrouded in a comfortable drowsiness.The light on the roof of the porch shone on him, and the lights on the car reflected Giorno. He and Giorno seemed to be the only two people in this quiet night.

But as Giorno said, he can’t be a rookie all his life—this identity, this bizarre world doesn’t belong to him.Tomorrow he will go back to his own world.

He opened his mouth, then opened it again. "...thank you tonight," he said. "Then goodbye, Giorno."

Giorno nodded with a polite smile. "Thank you, too, for a great evening. Looking forward to seeing you again. Goodbye, Mista."

Early the next morning, Mista hurried into Bugarati's office.He slammed the door shut, shutting behind Trish's fanatical gaze that had been fixed on him since he entered the police station, and then cut straight to the point, stating that "the suspect is likely to show up on the weekend." "This information was reported verbally to the superior - of course, a lot of the process was omitted - Bugarati just turned into the office with a cup of steaming coffee, and the chair was not even hot at the moment, as soon as he came up I was frightened by Mista's overly energetic behavior.Bugarati took a sip of coffee unconsciously, and his tongue was scalded without any suspense. He frowned and gasped for breath, while carefully putting the coffee a little away from himself. "What did you say? Slow down and say it again."

He hadn't seen Mista like this in a long time: enthusiastic, relaxed, driven and confident; it reminded him of the rookie guy when he first arrived on his squad a few years ago.Hell, it reminded him of when everyone in their group looked right.He knew something must have happened to Mista - whatever it was, it didn't look bad. "You mean," he mused, "that you found out where he might be."

Mista nodded. "Yeah, so I figured, we can go back and look into it over the weekend."

"How did you get the news?"

"I..." Mista paused.His back was rubbed vaguely by the suit shirt, a little itchy and a little painful, and the feeling made his face burn. "My informant told me."

Bugarat raised his eyebrows, "Informant?" The man's tone rose slightly, with more curiosity than doubt.Seeing Mista's face, he immediately raised his hand: "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

Mista shook his head, telling the man not to care. "Then, I have nothing else to do, so I'll go back and sort out the report." As soon as he turned around, he saw the red-haired girl hiding not far away, staring at the half-opened shutters of the office, with a look of ready He was stuck in a corner asking the truth.What should come will always come, he thought, his expression suddenly felt a little sad and angry, and when he was about to go out, he suddenly heard Bugarati calling him.

When he turned around, the expression on his face startled the black-haired captain again. "What's wrong with you, Mista?" Bugarati asked with concern. "It's not that I don't believe in the authenticity of the news. To be honest, I think your information is very likely to be accurate."

"What?" Mista asked in a daze.

"The headquarters also had informants at the club you mentioned," Bucciarati said. "The information given by the informant is very similar to what you got, so I think the authenticity of this news is very high. In fact, I am planning to ask you to contact the informant and ask him to cooperate with you in further investigation." While doing so, he tore off a note and wrote a line of contact number. "Call this number, hang up after three rings, and he will call you back, also hang up after three rings."

Mista nodded and took the small note.

As soon as he went out, Trixie grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side.The girl glared at him for a while, until Mista took the initiative to admit her mistake ("I really wanted to contact you, but I couldn't find an excuse to call.") Then she pinched him angrily and finished. , She put on a meaningful smile in an instant, "How was last night? Is anyone looking for you? Isn't it great that I chose this outfit for you!" The girl asked him like a cannonball. "Say it!" She threatened with a sweet face, and the subtext was "If you don't say it, hehehehe".

Mista grimaced, "Let me make a phone call first." Seeing that Trixiu frowned and wanted to speak, he hurriedly raised his index finger and hissed, and added: "There is business."

In Trixie's low-pitched complaints, he counted three voices, and then hung up the phone.After a few seconds, the phone in his hand rang.One, two, three, the sound stopped abruptly.

Mista took a deep breath and pressed the number again.After a few rings, the phone connected. "Hello?" he asked tentatively.

Trixie on the side was still digging at him with dissatisfied eyes, but suddenly he was taken aback by the man's reaction.She didn't dare to make a sound, so she could only stretch out her hand and gently push him, and silently asked him, "What's the matter?"

Mista didn't answer.The man's face suddenly became very funny.He was silent for a while, and then uttered a sentence in a low voice in disbelief.

"Hold."

END

(Short cheating) extra episode:

(Probably on the way to send Mista home)

"Are you really a rookie?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you look like..." He searched for a long time, "very familiar with those things, I mean, skilled or something."

The man was silent for a while. "I learned it online."

"You watch porn too?!"

Giorno glanced at him through the rearview mirror with interest in his eyes: "Are you still watching porn?"

"Why, do you have an opinion?" Although the tone was strong, Mista's face was still hot.The man was very grateful for the cover of the night. "Don't you read it? Where did you learn it?"

"……Wikipedia."

"...Is there really there?" Seeing Giorno nod solemnly, Mista groaned and covered his face. "Oh shit."

(Really very short) Fanwai FIN

* Mi 4 and the bad things in the police station are created with reference to the hero Jimmy McNulty in "The Wire"-my favorite show, the one who makes the characters hate it and makes most of the audience call him a scumbag but I But I like the male protagonist w very much [What a mouthful!

*The part of the background character with a long whip refers to the uncle and the fox described by the goddess Xanthe.I want to give her the whole document QVQ!

*That's right, Xu Lun sauce is an easter egg.