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The Pain Game	By : hummerhouse Category: +S through Z > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 4701 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The TMNT are not mine. No money being made.

Chapter List
- 1-The Pain Game
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 14-Part 14
- 15-Part 15
- 16-Part 16
- 17-Part 17
- 18-Part 18
- 19-Part 19
- 20-Part 20
- 21-Part 21
- 22-Part 22
- 23-Part 23
- 24-Part 24
- 25-Part 25
- 26-Part 26
- 27-Part 27
- 28-Part 28
- 29-Part 29
- 30-Part 30
- 31-Part 31
- 32-Part 32
- 33-Part 33
- 34-Part 34
- 35-Part 35
- 36-Part 36
- 37-Part 37
- 38-Part 38
- 39-Part 39 Final
- 12
- 13
- 14
            After witnessing the mysterious conversation between Leo and Raph, Mikey had high tailed it to the kitchen, getting there before his father did. Needing something to occupy his time, Mikey set about making pizza. A lot of pizza.

            The part of the kitchen that wasn’t covered in flour was doused in tomato sauce and half a dozen other ingredients. As Mikey twirled pizza dough high into the air, his mind created any number of explanations for what was obviously a heated discussion between his brothers. Nothing Mikey came up with made him feel any better.

            On his first trip to the kitchen, Master Splinter had brewed himself some tea as he watched Mikey set out the ingredients for the pizza. Ever the wise father, he’d said nothing other than he would be back to eat when the food came out of the oven and had then left Mikey to his own devices.

            Upon his return, Master Splinter paused in the kitchen doorway to survey the mess his youngest son had made. Mikey saw him out of the corner of his eyes but studiously avoided looking directly at his father, knowing that would be tantamount to admitting he felt guilt over the disaster he’d made of the kitchen.

            Stepping past the threshold, Master Splinter chose a seat that wasn’t festooned with pizza components. He remained quiet as he contemplated his son.

            Mikey couldn’t very well ignore his father since his presence was obvious, but the silent observation was slightly unnerving.

            Wetting a sponge, Mikey turned to face Master Splinter, a grin plastered across his mouth. “I guess I should clean the table so someone can actually eat there.”

            “That would be prudent of you, Michelangelo,” Master Splinter replied.

            With a few deft swipes, Mikey gathered the primary portion of the mess into a pile and then swept it into his palm to be deposited in the trash receptacle. After once again rinsing the sponge, he went back to the table and rendered it spotless.

            “Viola!” Mikey exclaimed theatrically. “Ready for a few slices, sensei? I made your favorite, double extra cheese with cheese on top.”

            Master Splinter chuckled. “Yes my son, that sounds quite delicious.”

            Mikey cut the pizza into eighths and returned with three slices on a plate, which he set before his father. “Here you go. Want something to drink?”

            “Water will be fine, thank you,” Master Splinter said.

            When Mikey came back with the water, Master Splinter caught his eye and said, “Sit here and join me. Food always tastes better if you are sharing a meal with someone.”

            Happy that he wasn’t being fussed at, Mikey said, “Sure. Let me pull the last two pizzas out of the oven.”

            After that was done, Mikey shoved two more into the hot oven and then piled a plate high with various types of pizza. Fetching himself a bottle of water, Mikey plopped down on a chair and took a large bite from his first slice.

            Master Splinter eyed the array of food on his son’s plate, eating his own pizza at a more sedate pace. They enjoyed their food in silence for several minutes before Master Splinter said, “The pizza is excellent, my son. You have surpassed yourself.”

            “Thanks, sensei,” Mikey said, beaming at the compliment.

            “It is also abundant,” Master Splinter added.

            Mikey looked up, winking as he said, “I was hungry.”

            “I see,” Master Splinter said musingly. “Is that the only reason for this cooking frenzy?”

            Suddenly wary, Mikey said, “Yep, that’s it. No other reason at all.”

            Master Splinter waited a moment to see if his son would volunteer more but when nothing was forthcoming, he said, “I ask because you only cook in such quantities when something is bothering you.”

            Somewhat nervously, Mikey said, “Nah, I’m good.”

            “Michelangelo,” Master Splinter said in a tone of voice that made Mikey pause in reaching for another slice of pizza. “I raised you, my son. I can tell when your psyche is out of balance. You have been off for several days. I am here for you, we all are.”

            “I know that father,” Mikey said, heaving a big sigh. “Sometimes there are things you’ve just gotta work out for yourself. If I always lean on you guys, I’m never gonna grow into my own.”

            “Family is still part of what defines us,” Master Splinter said. “However, you are right that we must choose our paths for ourselves. Please know that you are not alone. If you find yourself overwhelmed by what you are dealing with, you may still come to me for assistance. I will not judge you.”

            That moment was the closest Mikey came to spilling his guts and telling his father everything. But then he remembered that Raph had bitten him, that Leo had an enigmatic discussion with him, and that Leo and Raph seemed to be at odds over something.

            Those things weren’t his secrets to tell. “It’s cool, sensei. I know I can always talk to you if I need to.”

            Master Splinter accepted Mikey’s assurances with a nod of the head and finished eating his lunch. He spoke no more of the matter, but he did admonish Mikey to clean up the kitchen before he left it.

            The urge to cook left Mikey soon after that. He was busy putting the kitchen back into shape when his brothers came in to eat. Don showed first, empty coffee cup in hand.

            “Wow, Mikey,” Don said, surveying the spread with wide eyes. “To what do we owe thanks for such a prodigious feast?”

            “Maybe I’m just bored, Donny,” Mikey said, a trifle sharply. “Maybe I’m bored and hungry.”

            Don snorted and raised his eye ridges at his brother. “Well don’t bite my head off. I was only trying to relay that I’m impressed.”

            “Oh,” Mikey said in an abashed tone. “Sorry.”

            He could tell that Don was on the verge of questioning him when Leo and Raph entered the kitchen. Neither openly behaved as though anything was going on between them, but Mikey could tell that Raph wasn’t pleased with his shadow.

            That moniker for Leo was certainly apropos in the next few days. Though Mikey really wanted to catch Raph alone in order to question him with regards to the bite, he could never get the big guy to himself.

            To exacerbate matters, everyone in the lair seemed to have a new found love of togetherness, with Mikey at its core.

            Michelangelo always dreamed of being in the spotlight, of being the center of attention. That was one of his favorite things about being in the Battle Nexus tournament and then afterwards, when he won the championship to multiverse acclaim.

            Having hundreds of eyes on him, adoring him and his feats of physical prowess, had always been Mike’s ultimate fantasy. Here and now though, he found that he’d never before been so aware of eyes, nor had he ever wished for them to be turned elsewhere.

            Not even when it was his own family, which was the case at the moment. Every time he glanced up, he caught someone looking at him.

            It didn’t take long for the bruise left by Raph’s bite to fade away. Mikey was actually sad to see it go because that mark had provided him with several rewarding fantasies. Having it disappear was probably for the best though, because as his rib healed, Mikey was expected to participate more in practice sessions. He discovered that makeup had a tendency to slide off of sweaty skin.

            Mikey wasn’t allowed to spar yet, but Don was adamant that he work on his flexibility, critically observing each of his younger brother’s movements. Those sessions took place after practice and once everyone else had left the dojo.

            “You’re sure you don’t feel any pulling on that side?” Don asked as Mikey performed a perfect split while doing a handstand.

            “Nope. Good as gold,” Mikey responded. They’d been alone for fifteen minutes but now Mikey saw a pair of emerald green legs come into his range of vision. “Oh hey, Raph!” Mikey called out in greeting.

            “How’s it going knucklehead?” Raph asked, stopping next to Don.

            “Watch this,” Mikey said in answer. Pulling his legs back together, Mikey pushed off with his hands and flipped through the air, landing lightly on his toes before bounding upwards again.

            High in the air, Mikey tucked his chin to his knees and managed to flip twice before uncurling to nail a solid landing.

            “Ta da,” Mikey announced with a flourish. “I call that the ‘cannonball Mikey’. I’m gonna use that one the next time we get into a fight with the Foot. It’ll knock them all down like a bunch of bowling pins.”

            “More likely you’ll shoot clean off of whatever roof we’re on and end up as green splatter on the pavement below,” Don said dryly.

            Raph slapped Don on his carapace and said, “Donny here should know all about that. Let us not forget the time he tried to spin on his Bo staff like a pole dancer in order to kick a whole bunch of Foot soldiers. What happened that time genius? Oh yeah, they stepped back and let ya’ make of fool of yourself.”

            “How could we forget when you bring it up every chance you get?” Don retorted, blushing heavily.

            “Ha ha, pole dancer!” Mikey teased, before taking a run at the closest wall and bouncing off of it to practice his cannonball routine again.

            “Tell me something Donny,” Raph said, his voice low. “How the heck can he move his body in ways the rest of us can’t? We all got mutated by the same stuff.”

            Mikey was sure he wasn’t meant to hear that question, but he was rather more attentive to anything involving Raph than he’d ever been before. Once he was standing still again, Mikey bent down to grab the backs of his ankles so he could press his face between his legs. It was another position none of his brothers could achieve.

            Holding that stance, Mikey listened for Don’s answer.

            “I really couldn’t tell you,” Don said. “Mikey is simply more flexible than we are. It’s possible his carapace isn’t fused to his spine in the same way ours is.”

            “Interesting,” Raph said musingly.

            Mikey straightened up and turned towards his brothers, finding that Raph was staring at him in an odd way. Raph’s expression sent a tingle of anticipation rushing through Mikey’s system and he hoped that Don would leave the dojo soon.

            As if reading his mind, Don said, “Okay Mikey, that’s enough for today. You seem to be healing nicely, but don’t overdo it and I still don’t want you sparring. That bruised rib needs a little more time before you start taking any hits to that side.”

            “Yes mom,” Mikey said facetiously.

            “I’m going to remember you said that the next time you need me to fix the remote,” Don said as he headed out of the dojo.

            Hardly believing his luck, Mikey started towards Raph, words already forming on his lips. He’d only taken two steps when Leo suddenly appeared.

            Mikey just barely heard something that sounded like a growl come from Raph before Leo said, “Now that you’re finished with practice, it’s time for meditation, Mikey. You’ve managed to slip out of your last two sessions but sensei said it’s either me or him. Take your pick.”

            With a scowl, Mikey said, “If that’s my only two options then I choose you. Master Splinter uses too much incense in his room. I always feel like I’m gonna suffocate.”

            Raph stormed off to his punching bag as Leo led Mikey from the dojo.

            That night Raph announced he was going over to Casey’s, deflating Mikey’s hopes of pulling him aside for a talk. Never in Mikey’s life had it been so difficult to spend some quality time with his red banded brother.

            The following day it was more of the same. When their joint practice ended, Master Splinter held Mikey back so that he could work on mastering the kicks his brothers had been taught. Across the room, Leo and Raph lifted weights.

            “Very good, Michelangelo,” Master Splinter praised. “Do it again and this time, turn your left foot out a little more.”

            “Like this sensei?” Mikey asked, performing the kick as his father instructed.

            “Yes, excellent. Let us proceed to the next form,” Master Splinter said.

            As Mikey got into position, he couldn’t help but glance over at his brothers. Leo was on his back lifting as Raph spotted for him, but Raph’s eyes weren’t on his workout partner. Raph’s head was turned in Mikey’s direction, his golden gaze fixed on the youngest turtle.

            “Michelangelo, attend,” Master Splinter said, pulling Mikey’s focus back to the task at hand.

            The next three-quarters of an hour were given over to Master Splinter’s tutelage as Mikey played catch up in his training. Raph and Leo soon finished lifting weights and Raph turned to his punching bag. With his father and Mikey occupying the section of the dojo that Leo normally used for his katas, Leo left them. He would practice with his swords in an unoccupied section of the lair.

            Try as he might, Mikey couldn’t stay completely on target. Every once in a while he would look over at Raph, hyper aware of his brother’s proximity. Each glance was like a video log that imprinted on Mikey’s brain, replaying what he’d seen as he completed tasks for his father.

            Raph’s leg muscles flexing as he used his entire body to put power into his punches, Raph’s shoulders expanding as he threw a jab, Raph’s biceps bulging with the intensity of each blow. Mikey couldn’t tell at that point whether his mouth was too dry or he was drooling, so he flicked his tongue out over his lips just to be on the safe side.

            The harder Raph worked, the louder his grunts became. It was bad enough that the air filtration system in the dojo was pushing Raph’s scent in his direction, but each of Raph’s deeply guttural utterances were starting to give Mikey a problem under his shell.

            Having no idea how much longer Master Splinter intended to keep him, Mikey knew he had to do something to escape, and do it quickly. Otherwise, his manhood was going to pop right out into the open.

            One ninja skill that Mikey excelled at was the art of deception. He was a pretty good actor to boot.

            Spinning into a fairly powerful kick, Mikey turned just enough so that he came down at a funny angle. As soon as he hit the floor, Mikey grabbed his injured side.

            “Ow!” Mikey yelped, wincing in mock pain.

            “Michelangelo, are you all right my son?” Master Splinter asked, stepping over to where Mikey was standing.

            “I think I overdid it sensei,” Mikey said, breathing hard. “Donny told me not to, but I was feeling fine and I guess I forgot.”

            “Shall I call your brother?” Master Splinter asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

            “No, don’t bother him,” Mikey said quickly. “Did I do okay? I can try to keep going.”

            “That is more than enough, my son,” Master Splinter said, his hand on Mikey’s arm. “You have caught up to your brothers in your training. Perhaps it is best that you go and rest now.”

            “I guess I will. Only if you’re sure, Master Splinter,” Mikey said, sounding as earnest as he could manage.

            “Yes, yes. You are dismissed, Michelangelo,” Master Splinter said, returning his son’s bow and waving Mikey out of the dojo.

            It took all of Mikey’s will-power not to race for the stairs. The fact that he was trying to keep a good sized woody contained made his gait awkward, which aided the illusion that Mikey’s bruised rib was responsible for his difficulty.

            Busy with his sword work, Leo barely glanced at him as Mikey went past, for which Mikey was grateful. It was one of those times where Leo’s uncanny gift for focusing stood Mikey in good stead, because normally Leo was very observant.

            Climbing the stairs, Mikey was also glad to note that Don was working in his lab. Mikey would have the shower to himself.

            Taking care to lock the bathroom door, Mikey swiftly removed his gear and allowed his penis to drop down. His stiff cock bobbed as Mikey started the water for his shower and he wrapped his hand around it as he waited for the water to get warm.

            Stepping under the spray of water, Mikey began stroking himself. Bracing one hand against the shower wall, Mikey lowered his head and closed his eyes. In his mind he watched Raph pummel his bag, imagining how his brother’s muscular biceps would look as Raph’s weight rested on them, his arms to either side of Mikey’s body.

Mikey imagined looking up into Raph’s blazing eyes as he experienced the pain of Raph’s enlarged cock driving ruthlessly into his ass. Almost without thinking about it, Mikey moved his hand from the wall and plunged a finger into himself, pushing in past the first knuckle.

Throwing his head back, Mikey moaned, “Ahh, Raphie, more. Yes, yes . . . nghh, yes!”

Tipping over, Mikey orgasmed, his anal canal tightening around his digit. Pulling his finger out, Mikey leaned his head against the wall and panted, waiting for his climax to run its course.

When he was able, Mikey took a minute to soap up and rinse off, hiding the sight and smell of his deed. He dried himself, flinging the towel over his shoulder before gathering his gear in hand, intending to dress in his room.

Unlocking the door, Mikey pulled it open and came face to face with Raphael.

“Oh, uh . . . .” Mikey stammered, at a loss for words.

“Ya’ done in there?” Raph asked, seeming not to notice how flustered his brother was.

“Y . . . yeah,” Mikey answered. “All yours.”

He didn’t wait around to find out if Raph wanted to say anything else, instead fleeing to his room. Once inside, Mikey leaned back against the door and released a breathy exhale.

How long had Raph been standing there? How loud had Mikey been while he jerked off to visions of his brother performing a sexual act with him? Raph had acted like he’d noticed nothing out of the ordinary, so maybe he didn’t know what Mikey had been doing.

Or maybe he did and didn’t care. That concept was almost worse than the embarrassment of possibly being caught spanking the monkey.

Right there at the bathroom door was the first time in days that Mikey had Raph by himself and all he could do was stutter stupidly. If he’d been at all quick-witted, Mikey could have pulled Raph into the bathroom with him for a private conversation.

Banging the back of his head against the door, Mikey inwardly cursed missed opportunities. With growing determination, Mikey decided he’d try again later. If Raph mentioned that he’d heard Mikey moaning his name, then the younger turtle would just use that as a lead in to the topic he wanted most to discuss.

Once again Mikey didn’t get the chance to tackle his brother. At dinner, Raph said he was heading over to Casey’s to watch the hockey match.

Mikey hid his disappointment, but his mind wouldn’t let go of it. Whenever his brother was home, Leo watched him like a hawk, always there as a barrier between Mikey and his goal. Don and their father both directed more attention towards Mikey than was normal, as though watching for signs that would tell them exactly what it was that Mikey was hiding.

A vague plan to get to Raph at night after everyone else was asleep was foiled by Raph’s evenings out with Casey. A couple of times Mikey had been tempted to chase after Raph, going to Casey’s place as he’d done that night when his behavior in the tunnel had freaked Raph out. The problem with that was that Casey would know he’d shown up and get curious. Their human friend had trouble keeping things to himself and would blab about it to the rest of Mikey’s family.

The whole predicament was frustrating. How could Raph just bite him like that and then not want to talk about it?

It was a comedy of errors, Mikey decided. Leo watched Raph constantly. Leo, Don, or Master Splinter were always hovering around Mikey. Raph tended to stare at Mikey more than usual.

Mikey had to wonder if all of that had something to do with the talk Leo and Raph had days earlier. Raph had obviously not liked what Leo was saying to him, but Leo’s grip on his brother’s arms sure looked suspiciously possessive.

Leo had alluded to Raph’s demons, but the leader didn’t know about Mikey’s. There was no way that Leo could keep Mikey away from Raph forever. Mikey was eventually going to have his answers, even if he had to walk over Leo to get them.

That was if Raph didn’t do it first. Mikey couldn’t be sure, but it almost seemed that Raph was going out of his way to be in the same room with his younger brother. Which didn’t explain his going to Casey’s, unless the temptation to defy Leo was growing too strong.

With a snort Mikey finally gave up on the whole circular thinking thing and went to bed.

            The next day, Mikey’s fib to his father about his rib bothering him came back to bite him in the ass.

            On the wall in Don’s lab was a large, detailed map of New York City streets and the brothers were gathered around it. They hadn’t been out since helping Nobody spoil Hun’s sale of weapons, but they planned on breaking that streak tonight.

            “Here,” Leo said, pointing to a spot on the map. “Tenth Street runs this way to West Street on the Hudson, then intersects with West Fourth. In here is the section of the village district that Casey had information about.”

            “What was it that Casey said was going on?” Don asked.

            “He said some guy he works with occasionally told him he heard some gang was staking out one of them fancy restaurants in the West village,” Raph said. “Thought they were planning to rob the place after it closed either Friday or Saturday night ‘cause that’s when they’d have the most cash on hand.”

            “Casey told Raph that his informant mentioned the gang wore jackets with a purple dragon on them,” Leo said, taking over the story. “We’re going to check that tip out and see if we spot anyone watching a particular restaurant. Since we don’t know which one it is, we’ll split up and check different areas.”

            Using his finger, Leo slid it along a section of the map. “Raph will cover this area.” Moving his finger, Leo said, “Don, you take this area and I’ll work my way through the remaining sector.”

            “Hey, what about me?” Mikey asked.

            “You’re staying home,” Leo said, turning to look at Mikey, his expression severe. “Master Splinter told me your side was bothering you yesterday during practice, something you failed to mention to Donatello.”

            Mikey shrugged. “I don’t need my ribs to look for something, just my eyes.”

            “We’re going to be travelling across roof tops, Mikey,” Don said patiently. “That kind of jumping will put more of a strain on your bruised rib than you need right now. You have to give it time to heal properly.”

            “And though we have no intention of getting into any fights tonight, we still might,” Leo said. “We can’t afford to have you incapacitated by a lucky blow. That would put you and the rest of us at greater risk.”

            “This stinks on ice,” Mikey protested. “Staying home alone is boring. Even Casey gets to have more fun than I do.”

            “Casey ain’t going either,” Raph said. “April has him driving over to Jersey to pick up stuff she bought from an estate sale.”

            “You won’t be home alone,” Don said. “Master Splinter will be here.”

            “That’ll be fun,” Mikey said morosely. “I’ll have my choice of watching soap operas or doing even more meditation than I’ve already been forced to do.”

            “Well I’m sorry, Mikey,” Leo said, though he didn’t actually sound like he meant it. That was confirmed by his next words. “Maybe you’ll think of this next time you lose focus on your surroundings and decide to pull a stunt that will cause you to injure yourself.”

            “Oh, I’ll bet it felt good to get that out of your system,” Mikey responded sarcastically.

            “Mikey . . . .” Don began.

            “No forget it,” Mikey said, waving him off. “Go have yourselves a blast. Maybe you can grab some take out from one of those expensive restaurants and eat all of it without bringing me any.”

            Aggravated, he stomped off. Noting that the living area was empty, Mikey plopped down on the couch and switched on a video game, turning the volume up louder than normal to drown out the sounds of his brothers leaving the lair.

            The fact that it was his own fault that he was stuck at home didn’t do much to mollify Mikey’s irritation. Bruce Lee once said that, “If you don't want to slip up tomorrow, speak the truth today.” Mikey’s lie to Master Splinter sure was a slip up.

            Mikey lost track of time as he played games he’d already gone through dozens of times before, his mind sub-divided between the action onscreen and his situation at home. It finally dawned on him that he wasn’t really enjoying himself and even though Master Splinter could meditate through a hail storm, he couldn’t sleep through one.

            Turning off all of the electronics, Mikey tossed the remote onto the couch. Standing, Mikey enjoyed a good stretch and a wide yawn, deciding not to wait up for his brothers. Let them think he didn’t care whether they made it back for not.

            Of course he’d have his shell cell on the night stand next to his bed, just in case.

            Yawning again, Mikey stepped into his room and flipped the light switch but nothing happened. Frowning, he tried it a couple of times before giving up and pushing his door closed. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know his way around his own room in the dark.

            Before he could turn around, someone slammed into his carapace and shoved him roughly against the wall.

            Taken by surprise, Mikey groped backwards with one hand and tried to push away from the wall with the other. Thick fingers curved around Mikey’s wrist, twisting it painfully and pulling his arm up behind his shell. Another strong hand slammed down on top of Mikey’s as he grabbed at the wall, his assailant’s superior strength trapping Mikey’s arm.

            A familiar scent wafted into his nostrils and Mikey gasped.

            “Ya’ like this, Mikey? Is this what ya’ been waiting for?” Raph asked, his voice a low rumble.

            Raph pressed against him, using his body weight to keep Mikey from moving. Stunned, Mikey’s mind went blank.

            Wrenching Mikey’s trapped arm up higher on his shell, Raph said, “Answer me.”

            It was incredible how menacing his own brother’s voice could be and even more amazing how Mikey’s body was reacting. A shiver ran through his form as Mikey managed to ask, “How . . . how did you get away from Leo and Don?”

            “That ain’t your concern,” Raph husked into his ear, rocking his hips against Mikey and pushing the younger turtle’s thighs into the uneven bricks in front of him. “Answer my question.”

            “Yes,” Mikey hissed as Raph’s knee jammed its way between his legs.

            “Pain gets ya’ off. Rough gets ya’ off,” Raph intoned, his tone seductive and coarse.

            “Yes,” Mikey moaned, feeling himself harden quickly.

            Raph leaned into him, forcing the side of Mikey’s face onto the wall, his plastron flattening against the bricks with a rasping sound. Pulling Mikey’s arm up a bit more had the younger turtle on his toes and panting rapidly.

            “It ain’t a gag is it, Mikey?” Raph asked, insistent.

            Groaning, Mikey whispered, “No.”

            “Didn’t think so,” Raph said. “Ya’ know I can smell your need, don’t ya’? The others can’t tell what it means but I can. Ya’ know why?”

            Shifting again, Raph rubbed his pelvis against Mikey’s stiff tail, wrenching a sharp cry from his trapped brother.

            “N . . . no,” Mikey stuttered, his cock making an appearance and starting to throb.

            “’Cause that scent is meant for me,” Raph told him. “It says you’re ready and willing. That’s what ya’ are right, Mikey? Willing to let me do anything I damn well please?”

            Without waiting for an answer, Raph lunged forward and latched onto Mikey’s neck with his teeth, right at the base of his skull.

            “Oh Gods yes!” Mikey cried out, his cock bounding upwards and colliding with the wall.

            Shaking with need and breathing hard, Mikey tried to thrust against the bricks, desperate for relief. Raph’s hand slid down from his brother’s arm, stroking his bridges before reaching around in front of Mikey to fondle his cock.

            Raph’s teeth left Mikey’s skin, his hot breath blowing across his brother’s shoulder as he lowered his head. “I’ll bet you’d cum if I pinched it, wouldn’t ya’?”

            The threat scared Mikey because he knew how much that would hurt. That knowledge forced a churr from him.

            “Damn, ya’ do like pain,” Raph said, almost in surprise. “Maybe next time. I gotta get back.”

            Mikey’s keening protest was low. “Don’t leave m . . . me like this.”

            “Got no choice,” Raph said with a dark chuckle. “Ya’ better keep this to yourself.”

            “How?” Mike asked, trying to push his leaking cock into Raph’s hand, though his brother refused to grip it properly. “You bit me again.”

            “Ya’ figured out how to hide the last one,” Raph said, giving Mikey’s wrist a hard squeeze. “Figure out how to hide this one.”

            Just as quickly as he’d attacked, Raph released his brother.

            Though he felt Raph’s body heat moving away, Mikey stayed where he was, wailing, “No! Please st . . . stay . . . .”

            His door opened, the light from the corridor outlining Raph’s form. His brother paused for a second, then reached over and grasped Mikey’s tail.

            Squeezing the appendage impossibly hard, Raph yanked down on it and then let go as he disappeared.

            Mikey climaxed hard, his cum spurting out in long milky ropes to splatter against the wall of his bedroom.

TBC…………….
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The Pain Game