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KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)	By : runningnakedinthepark Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 2131 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Rammstein. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Title: KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)
Author: Robby a.k.a. Mr Naked
Rating: NC17/AU
Pairing: everyone and then some more
Disclaimer: I was smoking some really good stuff when I came up with this.
Betas: Hannelore_K

KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)
Part III – Just Like You Imagined
Chapter 28.

A loud thunder – the sky cracking threateningly for a split of a second – makes me open my eyes and raise my head, alarmed. The sky is black, and water is pouring mercilessly, heavily – it smells wet, of damp leaves and earth. Inside our little home is quiet, but warm; even the ever agitated Paul lies on the carpet listening to the rain drumming on windows, walls and trees.

Frau stands up and walks to the bedroom. The others follow Frau, but I remain in my place. I haven’t forgotten that she punished me today. So I’m punishing her in return; I’m not going to lay near her, Frau will miss my company tonight.

But Frau’s heart is telling me that Frau doesn’t want anyone this time. Frau is too upset on this particular day. Too upset to even do what Frau does in some evenings, in her bed.

On some nights, hidden by the darkness, Frau’s hands start caressing her own body, especially Frau’s thighs and between them. And in those moments Frau’s breathing becomes heavier and heavier by the second; Frau’s heart starts pounding wild, all her blood is boiling and rushing under Frau’s heated skin, as those hands, Frau’s own hands, keep touching and caressing that burning and tingling with desire body. Then, at some point, Frau even ceases to breathe at all, for few seconds; then Frau sighs heavily and long. It’s over!

Frau rolls in the bed and hides her face in the soft pillow. There’s no salt water streaming down her face, but I can hear her soul crying. Frau is sad, longing for some warmth, an affectionate touch, other than her own touch. Frau needs comfort and soothing. And the only comfort Frau gets is the gratitude and adoration Frau can read in our eyes.

In those moments, her stern glance turns warm and full of love, like when I started to lap the salty water off her face. I was aching after all that beating, but I still loved her, because no one else in this world touches, caresses, feeds or heals my wounds besides Frau.

This tip-tap on the floors wakes me up. I can smell him. I know it is him, by the way he sounds when he walks, by the sound of his breathing and that half growl, half purring he does. It’s Richard.

He left Frau’s bedroom and he’s wandering around the house. I can almost envision his feline walking. Through my eyelashes I spot the sparkling of his eyes through the darkness – two playful blue-green flames. He’s up to something. He wants something. He’s restless, looking for something.

I keep observing his soft movements through the dark. He walks over to me and sniffs the skin on my legs and thighs; his breath is hot, burning. Richard growls and purrs in the same time. He is the only one of us able to do that.

I lift my head and look at him while he pushes his head forward, the skin on his face hotly touching my crotch. Then he raises his head a bit; his eyes are throwing flashing flames through the darkness. He grins and continues to purr. He lowers his back submissively, then he pushes my arm with his forehead.

I remain motionless, pretending that I don’t understand what he’s in for. But the hot blow of his breath on the skin of my abdomen ignites something in my fibers. I lay my head back on the carpet; his wet and hot tongue starts lapping at my skin, its touch burning me. Richard purrs louder as he goes further licking my member – a hot snake’s head playing on my awakening cock. He’s licking my skin like he’s lapping his water or milk. He purrs warm, enticing. He gets bold - even if I growl – keeping on licking my stiffened flesh and caressing my balls with his mouth.

I jump up on all fours, groaning louder and deeper; Richard lowers his body, revealing to my sight his wide and muscled shoulders, but his glance keeps fixing me – two fires from the deepest hell. All my senses are wide awake now, all my fibers – tensed. The icy flames keep dancing in Richard’s squinting eyes, as he’s purring and getting his face closer to my skin. He is rubbing his body against mine, inviting me.

I take the others whenever I please. Richard is different. He wouldn’t stay for me to mount him until he loses the fight, when I crush him under my body weight and he has the marks of my teeth on his flesh. And even then, when I’m on top of him, he still struggles; he growls and grunts, hisses and tries to spit on me, until I’m done with him. Then he retreats in some corner or under the bed to lick the blood prickling from his wounds, and whenever one of the others tries to get near him or only passes by the respective corner, he growls at them, revealing his threatening fangs. Otherwise, when I’m not aware, he takes the others when he pleases too. He has needs too; he’s stronger and more ferocious than them, too. Some times I catch him in the act, and only Frau can put an end to our fight.

Right now I’m getting my face closer to his body and inhale his hot scent. Richard purrs and turns his head to watch me, as I’m walking around him, but he remains motionless until we get face to face, staring into each other’s eyes. My breath is rushed, my chest shaken by choked growls, my glare piercing his glance. He grins, revealing his white glittering teeth. I stretch my neck to get closer to sniff the skin on his throat – his heated skin emanates a luring thick organic scent, drugging and hazing me. I move my head, his mouth is half open; I grab his lip between my teeth, but I don’t rip the flesh. Richard purrs and growls into my mouth, trying to bite my lip too. His heavy hot breath is burning the skin on my face.

I growl and grin back at him as I free his lip. Richard stretches his back. I walk until I get behind him. He remains still, allowing me to climb on his wide and muscled back. I put my palms on his shoulders, pushing his chest to the floor as I’m entering him. He keeps purring while, from time to time, these short growls escape his throat as I start pounding into him.

Beyond his constant purring and our mixed growls and groans, my ears catch this tip-tap on the floors. It’s not Frau, so I keep mounting Richard as I’m biting the back of his neck to hold him subdued. He turns his face toward me, and bites gently on my cheek. He lowers his body, parting his legs even more so I can penetrate him deeper.

The tip-tap on the floors gets closer to us, and I can smell Paul’s presence in the room with us. I grunt, displeased. Richard groans and then hisses, annoyed, but that doesn’t chase away the intruder. I hear Paul getting even closer, sniffing our heated and damp with sweat bodies. Richard parts his legs even more, then turns his head again and bites gently on the skin of my face. I don’t stop, but I keep my eyes on Paul who sneaks near Richard and lowers his body until he gets under him. Richard winces under me; I growl and bite his shoulder making him hiss in pain, while I’m pounding harder in him. From under his body I hear these lapping sounds – Paul is licking Richard’s erect member and balls. And, from time to time, his tongue touches my own balls.

Richard leans his head backward, mouth wide open – white teeth glittering in the dark - as he is gasping for air, these spasmodic choked grunts escaping his throat: he is releasing and Paul, underneath, is licking it all. Richard’s muscles clasp rhythmically around my own member, setting me off. I shove his shoulders down to the floor, as I’m releasing too, motionless, only these spasmodic growls escaping my throat.

Then we remain like that for minutes, trying to catch our breaths, waiting for the moment when I’ll be able to pull my swollen member out of him. We listen to the silence, to the rain, to the wind outside lashing the trees. And, over all that, the timid lapping sounds of Paul’s tongue as he’s licking the remains of semen, Richard’s and mine, once I withdraw from Richard.

I walk lazily, drained and satiated, to a corner of the room to collapse there as I’m watching Paul cleaning the skin between Richard’s legs. But at one point, with a sudden jump and fierce groan, Richard chases Paul away. The smaller one backs off and walks to Frau’s bedroom.

I sprawl better on the floor, my skin absorbing the fuzzy touch of the carpet under me. I lay down my head, close my eyes and listen to my blood pounding through my veins. Over that, I can hear Richard purring and walking almost soundless around the house; tip-tap, tip-tap in the kitchen, tip-tap, tip-tap in the lounge, tip-tap, tip-tap in the bedroom, tip-tap, tip-tap back in the lounge.

Once in here, he remains still, only his scent and that constant purring betraying his presence. Then, tip-tap, tip-tap closer to me. He gets his face near the skin on my thighs, his hot, humid breath burning my skin like a wet flame. He lowers his head and with his damp forehead pushes my arm. He moves, twists and twitches until he sneaks near my body, rubbing his shoulders against my chest as he’s slowly laying on the carpet, snuggling as close as he can against my body, between my arms.

I open my eyes a bit, my glance meeting the sparkling glare of his eyes. Richard stretches his neck, laying his chin on my arm sprawled on the floor, then he sighs. He’s satiated, drained and content too. Richard closes his eyes, lays his cheek on my skin while keeping purring. I lift my leg lazily and place my thigh over his hips, and he brings his rump closer to my crotch and abdomen. I close my eyes again, listening to him: that’s his “I’m the happiest” purr. Sometimes I get jealous of him, I wish I could purr like that too.

Under my lowered eyelids – my own wall of pictures: howling metal monsters, heated grass, heavy scent of women menstruating, screams of children playing in the park, Frau looking at me, and only at me. In her eyes there’s this glance full of affection for her most favorite pet ever, as her long, fine fingers with red painted nails hold a piece of sweet happiness for me, and only for me – a chocolate candy from the box on the coffee table.

*

Black horse, red dress, hot blood pumping through young and alive body; she was riding through the forest faster than a dream, but her sweet scent got to us. It tickled our nostrils; it awakened our senses. Finally, after so much time spent here, dormant, in this forest, it was happening. We closed our eyes – under our eyelids we could see the frozen black ground of the forest, covered with dead leaves, and with an icy layer of snow. Our minds were traveling fast, with the speed of light or quicker, scanning the forest like we always did, until we stumbled upon that glittering white piece of cloth with a red monogram. We knew it was hers. We knew she dropped it when her nervous and easily scared horse rose on its back legs. The animal sensed something. Something that its mistress was aware of too, even if she didn’t believe in its existence. The horse sensed us.

The legends and the myths were telling about the dead forest and about the creature that lived in it. No one recalled ever having seen a single green leaf or a new branch in the oddly shaped trees that looked like old men dressed in rags. There was no life, actually, in that forest, except for the Creature. And the Creature, even if no one ever saw it, they all knew that it could change shapes, that it was deceiving and dangerous. Sometimes, on some winter nights, it would appear under the form of a white immense wolf with bloody glittering red eyes. Some of those living in the villages nearby were even telling about some young and very beautiful women that have disappeared, and the corpses of a few of them, drained of blood, were found later. But these stories were told only in whisper, because the Creature could see and heard it all. It could even hear the thoughts.

Of course, there were some that were dismissing all that as being old women’s tales and just that, that there wasn’t any Creature, and that it happens when the winters are very hard for wolves to come out of the woods and get near people’s houses as they are driven by hunger. But, still, no one dared to venture into the forest. The dark twisted silhouettes of the trees, the leafless branches extending like skeleton hands, and the putrid carpet of dead leaves were too grim for anyone to try to venture here. And some people were even wondering how come the trees never grow any leaves but there’s always that layer of rusty leaves on the ground of the forest.

We finally reached to where she had dropped the small handkerchief. We took it in our hand. It felt as if it were alive, still warm, damp with sweat and stained with make-up. It smelled sweet, alluring.

“It must be her,” Flake whispered in the motionless and comatose forest, because it was his body we had the shape of, at that moment.

After so many tries, we were tired. It had to be her, the one whose blood would bring us back to life and lift the curse. We were tired of killings and of waiting. It had been too long and we had to be able to complete our task – to find the Dragon, kill it and retrieve the Sun.

“She’s going to a ball,” Paul announced. “We’re going to a party, fellows!”

This time his attempts of cheering us up weren’t succeeding; I could sense that even he felt a bit anxious and concerned – we knew we wouldn’t be able to keep that way too long, there was too much frustration accumulated.

After wandering around, looking for the right one and never finding her, only leaving a trail of dead bodies behind us, we took refuge in this forest. It was for the best; Beasts belong to the woods. And we were beasts, six wolves. We couldn’t be six different entities and have human shapes. The only way to have a human form was to be all six of us stuck in one. It could have any face and frame we wanted it to, but it was only one for six different souls.

“She’s late, that’s why she came through our forest,” Richard formulated his answer before I could even ask.

At first it felt odd, but little by little we got adjusted with the situation – we weren’t actually talking, we were thinking, and what one of us thought of, the others knew in the same instant.

We followed her. We followed her scent, actually – an invisible string, yet so perceivable for a wolf. Yes, we took the shape of a white wolf; a wolf runs faster than a human. But, when we got less than a mile away from the castle we stopped. It felt like an invisible wall, yet a very thick one. We were about to leave the stillness and the coldness of our lair, the forest. We were about to leave behind the million worlds, each with their own order and hierarchy, and enter this chaotic and full-of-despair world of humans.

We took the shape of Paul, first, to sneak near the castle and observe what was going on inside through a window. It felt as if we were six entities of smoke locked inside a carcass of icy cold metal; beyond the glass of the window there was music, there was laughter and small talk, there were all those warm bodies, wrapped in skin and flesh, with veins pulsating with all that blood pumped through.

We took the shape of Christoph and entered. It was late and most of the people were already a bit drunk, so we could sneak in without any problems, without getting noticed.

“It’s not the Beast’s castle, though,” Christoph thought with a trace of regret.

No, it wasn’t and we knew it. I had told them long, long ago that the Dragon was in a castle on an island, in the North, where it was so cold that the ocean’s surface was covered by a thick layer of ice. I saw all that in the maps cabinet. Yet, I never got to see the Beast. The others said that they didn’t see the Beast either, in any of the worlds they’d been thrown into.

~ To Be Continued ~
- 27
- 28
- 29
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KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)