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Captivation	By : Rina76 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Tokio Hotel Views: 6307 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Bill or Tom Kaulitz or any members of Tokio Hotel and this story is a complete work of fiction; it is all made up and not true. I am not making any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 42
A/N: Dear BVB, I hope you see this! Thanks so much for your comment back in January 2016. I haven't checked on this site for months so I only just saw it. If you're addicted to Captivation, then you should enjoy this smutty sequel I wrote :)

It's been seven years since the kidnapping...are Bill and Tom still seeing Koji after all this time? Or have their busy lives and the Feel It All tour taken over, leaving Koji forgotten in the past? Find out here! Contains Koji/Bill, Koji/Tom, Bill/Tom, threesome.

SEVEN YEARS LATER.

Tom and Bill are in Europe, touring with the rest of the band. As it so happens, I am there too, but they don’t know that. On one particular day, when the twenty-six year old boys are out sightseeing in the freezing cold, I break into my former prisoner’s hotel room and wait for them to return. They are not performing this evening and have the night free. I know because I have a copy of their schedule. There are lamps lit within the room, giving it a cozy, warm glow. Bill must still be busy doing something or talking to somebody as Tom arrives first. I allow him to close the door, kick off his sneakers and hang up his jacket before I emerge from where I’ve hidden in the bathroom. His knitted top is a marbled grey colour and his jeans are also grey but darker.

I silently approach him from the rear. He is checking his phone for facebook notifications and is completely unprepared when I grab both his wrists and snap handcuffs on them, fettering them together behind his back. His phone drops to the carpet. Then in a couple of fast, practiced moves, I have the brunette guitarist kneeling on the floor, my boot against his shoulder to make him bend over. Struggling to get up, Tom starts to swear and shout loudly, at least until I slip the fabric gag around his mouth and secure it. I step back and Tom can finally straighten and turn his head to see who has done this to him. His face is angry. When he realises it’s me, some of that anger dissipates, replaced by a mixture of alarm and uncertainty. I don’t blame him for being uncertain or alarmed. We haven’t seen each other for a while and he’s not sure what kind of mood I’m in. He probably thinks I’m mad because they haven’t called me or kept in contact lately. He may be correct.

I gaze at him, taking in his long-haired, bearded appearance, his earlobes stretched with black plastic rings.

“Hello, Tommy,” I say coolly, with a hint of taunting. “Long time no see.”

He glares at me over his shoulder, unable to form a smart remark. Slipping a hand under his arm, I help him up and into a chair, making him sit. As he does so, I slide his shackled arms down and around the back of the chair, adjusting the cuffs so they are tight enough not to escape from, but not too tight that they’ll cut off his circulation. These aren’t the heavy-duty police-grade stainless steel ones that I normally use for work - these are a new pair I’ve recently bought. They are made from aluminum, which makes them lighter, and they have custom-ordered leather lining, more like slip-on padded casings. I wanted a pair of snap-on handcuffs that won’t cause bleeding wrists (for use during sex-play where a lot of motion may be involved) but the only options online are furry ones, which just look ridiculous. These are stylish, safe and relatively comfortable. Though he probably won’t appreciate the effort I’ve made to save his smooth skin, Tom doesn’t struggle against his bonds; he knows it’s useless and that he can’t get free. But that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it, his dark eyes clearly showing annoyance at being handcuffed to a chair, along with underlying anxiety about what I’ve got planned for him this evening.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything to you yet,” I tell him. “It’s Bill I’m waiting for.”

At the mention of his twin’s name, Tom sits more stiffly in his seat, eyes now filled with concern for his brother and what I might do to him. I’m obviously dressed for some kind of action, wearing black cargo pants with pockets on the sides (handy for storing things like handcuffs in), a pair of biker boots and a tight black tank top that shows off my muscular arms and the large dragon sleeve tattoo. It runs right up my left arm, from wrist to shoulder, in hues of gold, bronze and black. I have let my hair start to grow again, the light brown strands now touching my shoulders.

We hear the hotel door unlocking from the other side, Tom glancing towards the sound. Putting my finger over my lips, I make a “Shh,” motion and duck back into the bathroom to hide. Both of us watch as Bill enters the dimly lit room unaware, the taller twin dressed in fake leather pants and a knee-length coat. The latter article of clothing is hung up, revealing a white long-sleeve top underneath. His hair is short, blond and slicked back. There is stubble on his pretty face.

Placing gloves and a wide-brimmed hat onto a table beside the coat rack, Bill stoops to remove his platform shoes and calls out, “Tom? Are you here?”

Despite my warning, Tom gives a muffled shout and Bill turns around, puzzled. It’s a large hotel room and it takes him a moment to see Tom in the chair, near the bed. Gagged. Bill freezes, a shocked gasp escaping his parted lips, which are pierced at each corner.

Before he can rush over to his shackled sibling, I step out from my hiding place.

“I haven’t heard from you guys for ages. What the fuck is going on, Billie-boy?”

Whirling around, Bill stares at me, his eyes round. I may be older now at thirty-seven years of age but I haven’t changed that much since he first met me.

“Koji,” the younger twin breathes, managing to sound excited and terrified at the same time.

“Oh, so you remember my name, at least,” I drawl with a displeased expression on my face, knowing that my golden eyes are blazing. I glower at Tom too. “After everything I did for you two, neither of you ungrateful little bastards have bothered calling or keeping me up to date with what’s been happening. You’ve just ignored me and carried on with your precious rock-star lives as if I never even existed.”

“But...but we weren’t ignoring you,” Bill pipes up timidly. “We’ve just been busy.”

“Busy. Right. If you don’t want to see me anymore, fine. At least have the balls to tell me.” Stalking closer to Bill, I growl, “If you thought I’d just fade away, you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with. I don’t fade away. Especially not when someone disrespects me. I come after them and get my revenge.”

Tom yells behind his gag, warning Bill to get away from me, but the younger twin just stands there watching my approach with wide, expectant eyes. For all his physical changes, Bill’s eyes still look the same – dark, mysterious yet vulnerable. As I take his shoulders, Bill assumes he will be kissed and begins to incline his head, lips parting in eagerness but I force him around and slam him front first against the nearest wall. Bill gives a surprised grunt as his chest hits the unyielding flat surface, pinned there by my muscled frame like a butterfly in a display case.

“You thought I was going to kiss you. How fucking romantic.” My darkly mocking voice drips into Bill’s ear like treacle. “That’s something I would have done a few months ago, when I still thought you cared about me. Now that I know you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself, the idea of kissing that rosy-red mouth of yours is as appealing as drinking rat poison.”

“You’ve got me all wrong,” Bill grits out as he is crushed harder to the wall by me, his ribcage constricting and hipbones bruising against the solid plaster, his cheek pressed flat.

“Oh, I’ve got you all figured out,” I counter, my breath hot on the side of Bill’s face, his short stubble prickling my lips as I speak. “I know what you really are. You’re not an angel, like I once used to think. You’re a demon.”

“What? No!” he objects. “Why would you say that?”

“I helped you escape from Germany and all your rabid fans,” I remind him. “I arranged for that private jet to pick you up and I helped you get a place to live. I even bought my own apartment nearby, so that I could be close to you. I stood watch outside your house for weeks, making sure nobody tried to break in or harass you. I didn’t have to do that, but I did it. I’ve been protecting you everywhere you go, whether you see me there or not. I helped you create a brand new life in a brand new country and this is the thanks I get for it? Being treated like I’m just some nameless security guard on your payroll?”

I spit the following words at Bill like toxic darts, my fingers digging into his upper arms. “You’re a liar and a user, Bill Kaulitz. You use people to get what you want and then dump them once they have served their purpose. You use your eyes, your lips and your body to lure them in and you use your lies to keep them there.”

The things that I say should ignite Bill’s indignation but instead of defending himself, the singer remains where he is against the wall, quickened breathing the only sound he makes. He’s so fucking passive. With me overpowering him like this, trapping him and growling in his ear, Bill seems to be getting helplessly and incredibly turned on. And dammit, so am I, especially with Tom watching and being powerless to intervene or save his little brother. Knowing that I have the twins precisely where I want them, lust sluices through me, pounding in my veins like tribal drums deep within the bowels of the jungle.

“You’re a seducer,” I snarl, pressing my erection against Bill’s backside, as helpless as the other male in resisting the sexual energy that buzzes between us like a live power line, undiminished by time. “You’re a flirt. A tease. An evil little cocksucking bastard who knows exactly how beautiful he is.”

Bill feels a flash of warm wetness as my tongue whips over his earlobe, flicking the rings there and making them tinkle together. He can’t stop himself from shuddering at the erotic shock. I quickly remove the boy’s long-sleeved top - literally ripping it off him - shredding the thin material from hem to neckline and yanking the two halves off his arms.

Tossing the ruined article to the floor, I query, “Was that top expensive?”

“Yes,” he mumbles.

“Sorry,” I reply dryly, not meaning it. He can afford to buy another. Now topless, the pale skin of Bill’s back and arms glimmers in the lamplight, velvety under my rasping hands, the old TH tattoo on the nape of his neck starting to blur with age. His left hand is completely covered in ink and his arm sports a few different designs including a mermaid kissing a girl, an old-fashioned boxer and a ghost that looks like it came from a Pac-Man arcade game. On his chest are two magnificent etchings, the most recent one an anatomically correct human heart that extends onto his shoulder, and I stare at it for a few moments, appreciating the detailed line work.

There are some more new tattoos but I’m too preoccupied to properly study them now, so I peel off my tank top and continue undressing my captive, wanting to feel that silken skin against my own olive-coloured flesh. As I am hurriedly unbuckling his belt and unfastening a button and zipper, my mouth drags down the side of Bill’s throat, sucking at the spot where neck meets shoulder, feeling a frenzied pulse beating through the artery there.

Of his own choice, he stays pressed to the wall. He could try making a run for it but he doesn’t. Bill’s breath is coming in quick, irregular gusts, his whole body tense with excitement as I yank his pants and underwear down, the fake leather dropping to his feet, his metallic belt clinking as it hits the floor. His already-hard dick bounces free and smacks into the painted plaster surface in front of him. He tenses even more when my hand gropes his bare ass, manhandling him, squeezing a buttock, the other palm sliding up his tattooed side and ribs to locate one nipple. My fingers pause as I reach something circular hanging from the stiff peak. I trace the steel hoop pierced through his flesh. Bill shivers. There is a small metal ball connecting the hoop and it spins as I toy with it. I flick the ring with my thumb and the naked singer groans, the sound of his enjoyment daring me to give the bit of jewellery a good tug. At the sharp, sensual feel of the ring in his nipple being pulled, Bill gasps and shudders, as though he’ll come all over the wall if I keep doing that.

Recalling that the little tart always loved having his nipples played with I smirk to myself, pinching Bill’s dusky nub with my nails. Hissing at the painful pleasure shooting through his chest, Bill lifts one arm above his head, bracing it on the wall as if for balance, and spreads his feet farther apart in a brazen invitation. I don’t miss it and my hand slips between the taut cheeks of the boy’s white ass, tracing the hidden entryway there, teasing the puckered pink rim with my fingertips. Going crazy with the deliberate provocation, Bill dances and pushes back, trying to get those taunting fingers inside him. Sensing that my prisoner has too much freedom, I ram him back into place, pinning the kid vertically with one strong arm across the back of his neck. Bill’s face and nipples are flattened to the cold wall as is his now-leaking maleness, the swollen fleshy cylinder twitching against his own stomach in protest. My chest is pressed to his back, his skin warmed to an almost feverish level. Spitting into my hand, I bring my fingers back to Bill’s cleft and worm them into his resisting entrance, forcefully opening it up. Eyes rolling back in his head at the ruthless assault, Bill gives a whimper, the sound choked in his throat.

“Did you miss me?” I purr into Bill’s ear, twisting my saliva-slicked fingers into that deep, moist tunnel and back out again. “I bet you didn't expect to see my face when you walked in the door, did you, bitch?”

Bill can only groan thickly, eyes squeezed shut.

“Listen to you,” I sneer. “You want this so bad. You’re still the same sex-hungry slut you always were, only now you have years of experience. I bet you take lots of cocks in the ass these days, don’t you? Not just Tom’s.”

I jam my fingers relentlessly into the heat of Bill’s body, making him jolt and gasp. “I bet you fucking love it.”

“Condom,” Bill manages to babble, driven to insanity by my violating fingers. “Wallet.”

Just about insane myself with sexual craving, I pull my fingers out and bend down to the floor, to the designer trousers rumpled around Bill’s feet. In one pocket is the wallet and I rummage through it, undoing zips and flaps, finding the plastic-wrapped protection. It’s a lubricated rubber sheath, specifically designed for anal sex and the fact that Bill conveniently has one on him only reinforces my belief that the kid has turned into a promiscuous bi-boy, sleeping with anyone who catches his eye. Determined to make it my turn now, I straighten, tear the package open, unfasten my pants and roll that condom onto my stiffened length with one flick of my wrist. The thin latex film is coated with clear gel which means I doesn’t have to fuss about with searching for lube. Convenient, indeed. I stand behind Bill and guide my cock down to his rear. Bill tenses, waiting for the first thrust.

“How do you want it, huh?” I taunt, rubbing the tip of my prick up and down Bill’s crack, over and around the singer’s private, quivering opening but denying him penetration. “Do you want it hard? Rough?”

Bill makes a sobbing sound of inexpressible need, as if he’s aching with it. “Koji, please!”

“Please what, Bill?” I goad, just for the hell of it, just to hear him say it.

Making another sob of frustration, Bill peels his face off the wall and turns his head, leaning back and seeking my mouth, wanting to kiss me, wanting to feel my tongue wrapping around his own. I stubbornly lift my chin just out of reach and the younger man’s pierced lips graze my cheek instead. Short stubble rasps my skin as Bill urgently nuzzles the side of my face.

“Please fuck me,” Bill breathes in desperation.

Not able to hold off any longer, I jab my pelvis forward, my slippery, condom-covered cock breaking through that tight, tiny hole and cleaving all the way in. Bill jerks violently and cries out loud, feeling utterly taken, the exciting thrill of total domination far outweighing any pain of the sudden entry. On the other end, I feel as though I’ve shoved my dick into a pot of thick, hot honey and I let out a string of guttural Japanese language, mostly swear words that Bill may or may not understand. I can feel the pulse of blood within the very core of him, each and every contraction of his heart, similar to the ticking of a clock. A very fast clock. I can feel Bill’s vitality, his essence, his life-force. I am right in the centre of it.

Through the acute, searing sensations rocketing through my brain, I cannot help wondering how many men have been where I am right now - how many men have had Bill this way over the last few months, how many unknown dicks have plunged into this beautiful tattooed body and used it without care, without love, only wanting to screw a pretty, young celebrity. The thought makes me savagely possessive and I transfer my resentful envy into physical force, punishing Bill with my pounding hips, my chest against the kid’s upper back and hands on his narrow waist to hold him in position as I ram him into the wall.

“I should have done this years ago,” I grind out, fiercely slamming into Bill, the crude meaty noise of connecting flesh thudding into the quiet room. “Back when I kidnapped you. If I’d known you were going to turn into such a little whore, I would have taken you on that very first night, when you were crying on the bed for your twin. I shouldn't have left your cherry for Tom to take – I should have fucked your sweet, virgin ass first!”

Gasping harshly through an open mouth, Bill can’t speak or reply but I can feel him beginning to come, can feel it from the inside, the abrupt tightening around my dick as it slides in and out of the boy’s muscular hole. Incomprehensible ecstasy bursts within me like firecrackers, exploding out of my groin. I’m groaning through clenched teeth as I join Bill’s rapid orgasm, my cock pulsing inside his clenching inner heat and filling the condom. Bill’s own semen is forced between his belly and the wall, his shaft rubbing in the warm liquid as he is jolted from behind by my final climactic thrusts. The suddenness and intensity of our shared climax leaves both of us breathless and shaking, our bodies throbbing and minds whirling, the fastest bout of sex we have ever had together.

Bill is still leaning against the wall in front of me, forehead pressed to the plaster, one arm bent above his head in the same stance as before, panting, his leather-look trousers around his ankles. His blond hair is messed up, his cheeks are flushed and he looks gorgeous. Grasping his stubbly chin, I turn his face towards me, finally kissing him on the mouth, softly and gently, the complete opposite to the way I was fucking him.

“Thanks, Koji. I really needed that,” he says appreciatively, opening his eyes to gaze at me with loving gratitude. “And I’m so sorry we haven’t called lately. We really have been busy with the new tour and everything. It’s been crazy.”

“I know, sweetheart,” I reply, pressing another fond kiss to his temple and then turning him around so we can hug. “Figured you could use some surprise roleplaying stress relief.”

With an affectionate smile, he caresses my bare chest and says, “How do you always know what we need?”

Smiling back, I return, “I don’t know. I must be psychic.”

Muffled noises of protest reach our ears and we turn to glance at Tom, sitting there in the chair with a gag over his mouth, aggravated that he’s been all but forgotten. By the bulge in his pants, it’s clear he enjoyed our show but is now in need of some stress-relieving roleplay himself.

Making him wait that little bit longer, I go to the bathroom to take the used condom off and dispose of it. After stripping off my boots and pants, I wash my hands and come back out in my boxer-briefs. Bill hasn’t bothered to dress at all, the tall vocalist relaxing on the bed naked except for his jewellery and tattoos. Lying on his side, head propped in his hand, he watches with half-lidded eyes to see what I’ll do with Tom.

Crossing to the long-haired guitarist, I take his gag off but leave the handcuffs on.

“Are you gonna uncuff me now or what?” Tom demands impatiently. “You better not go home without getting me off too, man. I swear, if you leave me here chained up like this I’ll fucking kill-”

“Well, that was a bad idea,” I comment, replacing the gag over his mouth before he can complain any further. The bearded musician glares at me, yanking at his wrist-cuffs and I pat his dark head patronizingly.

“Hey, Bill.” I turn to face my young lover lounging on the bed. “Let’s play with your brother while he can’t say anything. What do you think?”

“I think that sounds fun. He does tend to talk too much at times,” Bill returns with a devious smirk, getting up and beginning to crawl sinuously towards his chair-bound twin.

Together, Bill and I begin to remove Tom’s clothing. Bill takes off his brother’s socks and then yanks down Tom’s jeans, leaving him in his underwear – a pair of white boxers with a designer name across the wide waistband. As his grey top won’t come off over his handcuffs, I get a knife and start to cut the marbled material away, Tom’s eyes widening as the blade comes precariously close to his neck, slicing downwards to the bottom hem. Then I slice up both of the sleeves and pull the ruined top away from his upper body, revealing the tattoo on the back of his arm, the same design Bill has inked on his chest. I’m sure the grey garment was expensive like Bill’s top but likewise, Tom can afford to buy another one. His hair is messy and escaping his bun so I finish the job and pull out the elastic tie, letting Tom’s lengthy brown locks fall free down his back. Now, he is sitting in the chair, shirtless and clad only in his boxers, his smart mouth gagged – all in all a truly delightful sight to see, especially since I haven’t seen him this way before.

“Now you know how it feels to be chained to a chair,” Bill comments, reminding Tom that he was also bound this way once, when I first kidnapped him. Except, I left Bill’s clothes on. Tom’s glare shows that although he signed up for me to take him captive whenever I wish, he is still unimpressed with this whole situation. Tom likes to be in control and when that control is taken away from him, he feels defenceless and he covers that up with anger. But he won’t be angry for long.

“Hey, Bill,” I say to the younger twin. “You got anything around here like whipped cream, strawberry sauce or chocolate syrup? You know, something sweet and spreadable?”

His eyes lighting up, Bill scampers into the kitchen of the hotel room and returns with a glass jar sporting a red label. Nutella.

“Will this do? I like it on bagels,” he admits sheepishly.

I smile. “Perfect. But let’s warm it up a little first.”

Putting the jar in the microwave, I heat it for a few seconds, just enough so that the thick substance becomes thinner and more easy to use for my intended purpose. Sinking my fingers into the jar, I scoop up some of the hazelnut spread and smear it across Tom’s chest, making sure to coat his nipples. Grinning, Bill joins in, spreading Nutella over his older brother’s belly while Tom glances down, not sure if he likes this sticky stuff being smeared all over him, close to his pristine white boxer shorts. Of course, we are not going to leave it there but I cannot guarantee that his shorts won’t get stained.

Bill and I kneel beside Tom on the carpeted floor, attacking him from either side. I nuzzle and nibble my way up the line of his stomach on one side, while Bill does the same on the other, both of us licking around each of his ab muscles. His belly tenses under our tongues. The chocolate-hazelnut taste of the spread goes nicely with the saltiness of Tom’s smooth skin. Moving up further, I lick the Nutella off one half of his chest, leaning in to lightly bite at his nipple. He jolts and I tug it playfully with my teeth. Bill nips at the other one, rubbing his snake-bite lip rings over the pebbled pink nub, tormenting his twin with a mix of pain and pleasure.

Scowling down at us, Tom mutters something behind his gag, something supposedly pissed-off. I briefly grin because in spite of his enraged-sounding incoherence, the guitarist’s underlying enjoyment shines through loud and clear. That and the obvious bulge in his boxers proves that he’s actually having more of a good time than he’s letting on. Working as a team, Bill and I give Tom a tongue-bath from belly-button to collarbones, some of the chocolate spread getting on our faces as we do. When Tom’s skin is nice and clean, I turn to my blond-haired partner, licking the remaining Nutella off Bill’s chin and lips while he laps it off mine.

Then moving around in front of the chair, we kiss deeply while Tom watches on in envy, Bill’s pierced tongue wrapping around mine. His mouth was always sweet but now it tastes even sweeter. While I cradle his face, Bill’s fingers play across my skin, one hand stroking up and down the full-sleeve dragon tattoo on my arm, the other sliding down my back to trace around the Gothic letter ‘K’ inked at the bottom of my spinal column, just above the waistband of my trunks. I’ve added to that tattoo recently, and on either side of the ‘K’ are a ‘B’ and a ‘T’ so that all together it says, ‘BKT’. The three loves of my life. The ‘K’ is the larger initial, as Keiichi was my first love, but Bill and Tom know that they mean as much to me now as my own brother. If they didn’t, I would have stopped breaking into their rooms a long time ago.

“Here, Bill. You can be the key-master,” I say when we finish kissing, tossing him the small metal keys which unlock the handcuffs. Bill seems pleased to have the honour, dangling the keys in front of Tom’s face with a grin.

“What do you think?” I ask the singer, who is not so slender anymore, not since he’s been going to the gym for the last few years. “Should we uncuff Tom now?”

“Not yet,” Bill decrees mischievously. “But we can move him to the bed.”

Together, we lift Tom off the chair and lead him over to the hotel bed, both hands restrained behind his back like a law-breaker being arrested by cops. But there are no laws being broken here. Tom is well of age and he is consenting to this so we push him onto the mattress like our pretty little plaything. The bedhead is made of iron bars with fancy scroll-work in between and is perfect for attaching handcuffs onto. Bill uses his keys to unlock one side of the cuffs, allowing Tom to move his arms to the front. Before the older twin gets any bright ideas of fighting us, I put a stop to that by grabbing both of his wrists, digging my fingertips threateningly into the pressure points along his wrist-veins. I’m not hurting him yet; it’s only a warning in order to keep him co-operative. Having experienced in the past how much pain is caused by such manoeuvres when more force is applied, he doesn’t try anything, just lets me do what I want. Tom knows me well enough by now to feel relatively safe in my hands. He knows that I like playing games and that I can be a little rough sometimes but he also knows that I won’t really harm him. What makes his eyes go wide and his heart pound in his chest is not knowing what I will do next.

But that’s part of the fun.

I raise Tom’s wrists up over his head and Bill refastens the shackles, snapping them around the iron bars of the bed frame. Now, Tom is lying on his back, still bound and gagged, but in a far more versatile position than before. Taking advantage of this position, Bill removes the last item of clothing on his brother’s body, pulling the boxer shorts off and revealing Tom’s solid cock, the sight of which never fails to impress me. The fact that Tom is so hard proves that he doesn’t feel in any real danger from us. And he’s not. We only want to play with him. Bill and I crawl to either side of Tom’s shackled form, gazing lustfully along the third male’s handsomely chiselled nudity, his smooth ivory skin broken up by patches of dark hair, the lit lamp near the bed highlighting each muscle, bone and swell of flesh, as well as casting shadows into every shallow or curved part of his build. Though he lacks Bill’s many tattoos, Tom still is a work of living art just by being his natural, bearded, long-haired self.

Again working as a team, Bill and I proceed to drive Tom crazy with our mouths, focusing more on Tom’s magnificent erection this time, licking it together and sucking it in turns, our tongues meeting often, sharing Tom’s salty-sweet taste. Tom groans behind his gag, and when he tries to thrust up into my mouth, or Bill’s, I put the heel of my hand on his hipbone and shove him back onto the mattress. When Tom’s manhood is nice and wet with our saliva, Bill nudges me out of the way and climbs on top of Tom, straddling him. The younger twin slowly sinks down on Tom’s cock, Bill’s lips parting in a soft moan as he takes it all the way down to the thick base. Because I fucked him earlier, he needs no preparation and so with complete confidence, Bill begins to ride his big brother. Tom stays passive, gazing up with spellbound lust as Bill rocks back and forth on his hands and knees, taking Tom’s dick in as far as he desires and then pulling upwards. Occasionally, Tom glances down, looking at himself disappearing into and then re-emerging from the depths of Bill’s tattooed figure but he seems more interested in observing Bill’s face and the erotic expressions that cross over it.

Ever the control freak, whether it’s on stage or in the bedroom, Bill is going at his own pace, deciding how deep he wants to go and choosing how fast or slow he moves, doing whatever works best for him. The bleached-blond songwriter is working his hips in exact half-circular movements, making sure Tom’s cock hits just the right spot. I guess Bill ought to be good at it by now; he’s had years of practise to perfect his technique. Tom doesn’t seem to mind being used in this way – he appears to like watching his twin’s enjoyment more than taking it for himself. Although I must say, Tom’s got very good self-restraint, keeping still and controlled even though he could easily lose it with his brother bouncing on top of him, moaning and making sexy faces that outdo even the ones in the Love Who Loves You Back orgy video.

Despite what I said earlier about Bill being a whore and a slut, it was purely for roleplaying purposes. It’s true that he has slept with other men but only a small number, and I’ve heard about each and every one of them. I’m sure that later tonight he will tell me about the men he’s been with, if any, since I saw him last. Being a sensuous young creature, he naturally likes sex but he never allows himself to fall for any of these guys. He says that no matter who he sleeps with, he will never love them, because he loves me and Tom and he will always love us forever. It’s very sweet, actually, and I feel the same way about the two of them. Now that we are all together once more, Bill is very aware of me being there, his dark eyes flicking towards me every now and again, just to make sure I’m watching. It excites him to have me as a spectator because he can’t let anyone else in the world see this, see him in bed with his brother. I know how privileged I am and so I pay close attention, skating my palm along Bill’s thigh. Tugging and twisting on his own nipple ring, Bill begins to move faster on top of Tom, panting with the effort of lifting himself up and down.

“Yeah, ride him,” I encourage in a whisper, sensing Bill’s orgasm starting to build. “Ride Tom’s big, beautiful cock - ride it hard for me, honey…”

After I say that, Bill grabs his own stiffened dick, jerks it a few times and comes for the second time, the younger twin spilling white seed on Tom’s tightened abs, the same blissfully agonised kind of look on his face that I saw in the shower seven years ago, when a virginal Bill screwed himself with a makeup brush. Only now he doesn’t have to pretend that Tom is inside him because he actually is, and has been many times before this. Tom groans behind the fabric covering his mouth but doesn’t come, not yet, just allows Bill to take his pleasure. Being a twin myself, I know Tom doesn’t need to take any since Bill’s pleasure is his pleasure too.

Shuddering, Bill collapses onto Tom’s chest, his breathing coming in harsh pants. Tom yanks against his cuffs as if wanting to touch Bill, but he can’t. I rub Tom’s arm soothingly, wordlessly telling him to be patient and that his restraints will be removed soon enough, and he settles back down. Recovering from his orgasm, Bill is lying there on top of Tom with his eyes closed. I lightly stroke along his short blond hair, his back, his shoulder, his side with the tattoo, caressing him in Tom’s stead. Eventually, Bill opens his eyes, looking expectantly at me with those heavy-lidded velvet-brown pools of sultriness.

“So, Koji,” he purrs wickedly. “You finally gonna fuck Tom tonight or what?”

I raise a brow. “I don’t know. Do you think he wants that?”

“I know he does. He’s told me.”

Vehemently, Tom shakes his head in denial, making stifled protests that we both ignore. Bill wouldn’t lie about such a thing.

“I suppose I could, then. Have any other guys fucked him?” I ask, needing to know before I go any further.

“No. But I have,” Bill adds. “So don’t worry, he’s not a virgin anymore.”

Tom glares at Bill for giving secrets away. Bill just smiles sweetly at him.

“Okay. Well, I guess we better get Tom prepped. Fetch your keys, Billie-boy,” I instruct and like an obedient henchman, Bill does what I ask, climbing off Tom and unlocking one side of the metal handcuffs so I can flip the older twin onto his front. Arranging Tom’s arms so he can lay on his belly without overstretching his shoulder joints or tendons, I tell Bill to refasten the cuffs, checking to make sure they’re not cutting into his brother’s wrists. Stroking a be-ringed hand over Tom’s spine, Bill softly asks if he’s comfortable like this. We may be playing a game but Bill would never participate in anything if it bothered his twin or caused him any pain. Testing his leather-lined bonds with a tug, Tom answers with a short nod, laying his head on the pillow and closing his eyes in nervous readiness, waiting for the carnal delights that I am going to perform on him.

Bits of his hair have fallen across his face so I move them aside, sweeping the curtain of brown across one shoulder. Despite how untidy it can appear at times, his brunette mane is much softer and silkier than it looks. I pause for a few moments, admiring the way Tom’s upper back muscles are now on display, along with the rest of his toned torso, waist, hips and butt. I mentally marvel at how finely sculpted that butt is, now that I can see its shape. Half the time I don’t get to check out Tom’s rear end because he is still wearing those saggy-ass pants of his which create the illusion that he has no rear end to speak of. Now that those pants are gone, I’m staring at a long expanse of firm flesh, starting from the nape of Tom’s neck, down his spine, past the dimpled curve of his lower back, along the shapely swell of his behind – divided neatly by a seductive cleft – and concluding with two long legs, his calves dusted with light brown fur down to his ankles. Seeing Tom in this utterly submissive position, face-down, wrists and mouth bound, with his thighs spread apart on the bed invitingly… it has me turned on like a light switch.

“God, Tom, you’re beautiful,” I sincerely tell him, sliding my hands up the back of his thighs and ass, my tongue unconsciously flicking over the outline of my lips. “I just wanna lick you all over.”

He can’t reply so Bill does instead, turning to me and saying, “So, what’s stopping you?”

“I can do that? Even... down there?” I ask, making sure they both know that I’m talking about rimming, something I have done to Bill but not Tom because he’s never let me.

“You can do whatever you want to him tonight, Koji,” Bill assents complacently. “He’s easy. And I mean that exactly how it sounds.”

“Really?” Just to be sure, I prompt, “Nod if you’re okay with this, Tom.”

Tom’s dark head bobs briefly on the pillow but his eyes stay closed.

“See,” Bill indicates with a sweep of his hand. “He’s saying yes too. Stop asking questions and put your tongue to a better use.”

“Okay, then.” Now that I practically have a signed permission slip from both of them, I am going to do more entertaining things with my mouth than talk. With slow sensuousness, I caress Tom’s muscular back and then lean down to follow the descent of my fingertips with my lips, kissing from the top of the reclining guitarist’s vertebral column down to the base. I trail my tongue-tip along Tom’s tailbone and into the following crevice of his ass, testing my inexperienced lover’s reaction, but Tom doesn’t even flinch. He’s utterly prepared for this. He had a few drinks at the hotel bar before returning to this room so that’s helping him relax as well. Tom’s legs are parted but he’s not accessible enough for what I intend to do with him so I lay my tanned fingers out on his lighter buttocks, thumbs just inside the split, spreading the pale flesh to unveil the private place that I have not been permitted to taste before now. Gazing at it, I can understand why this part of the human anatomy is affectionately referred to as a rosebud. It’s as though it is blushing rosily, shy and curled protectively in on itself and will take a little gentle coaxing to unfurl and bloom.

When Tom feels a hot lick on the one part of his body that remains untouched by me, he gasps beneath his gag, his eyes turning round. I bet my tongue feels like a burning brand, searing him, scorching him, right on his personal opening.

“Are you okay?” I halt to query in concern. “Do you want me to stop?”

I know how it feels, having someone’s face right between your legs like this. Tom feels laid wide open, intensely exposed. Despite the alcohol he’s consumed, maybe this is too much for him.

Closing his eyes again, Tom shakes his head in answer to my questioning.

Or maybe it’s not enough.

When my tongue comes into contact with Tom’s most intimate area again, Tom gasps once more, quietly. But he stays still and doesn’t shut his legs. He lets me do this. I close my eyes as well, savouring the moment, for this is a moment I have only dreamt about. But this is even better than my sheet-dampening dreams because it’s real. I keep licking lightly around and over Tom’s secret entrance, giving him a couple of minutes to get used to it before I seriously get to work. I treat this part of Tom’s body as if it is indeed the budded head of a rose, using my tongue to gently probe into the tightly closed blossom, enticing it to open and let me in. Soon, I can feel the tightness start to give, can feel a slick inner heat just past the initial circle of elastic muscle. For my efforts, I am rewarded with a low, wordless groan - not just from Tom, but from Bill too, the younger twin lying beside us and enjoying this just as much as if I were doing it to him.

Pausing to smile, I ask my accomplice, “Do you think he likes it?”

With absolute assurance, Bill replies, “Oh, totally.”

“Tom?” I enquire. “Do you like this?”

A sleepy sigh is my reply, Tom’s face pressed into the pillow, his eyelids lowered shut. Contrary to how he sounds and looks, Tom is nowhere near sleeping. What I am doing is keeping my former captive quite awake but he’s gone all relaxed and malleable, almost drugged. I guess the drinks are kicking in. I continue carefully tonguing Tom’s alluring entrance for a while, gradually softening it and easing it open, before trying a fast upward jab. Tom makes another gasping sound but it’s a good sound. When you feel a tongue shove into you where you’ve never had someone’s tongue before, it’s like a small, heart-stopping shock. You’re expecting it yet it still jars you when it happens. Jars you and thrills you, for with that shock comes much pleasure.

I know exactly what that pleasurable shock feels like. I felt it when my identical twin brother Keiichi first raised my knees and licked me when we were in the bed together one night. We were fifteen then. He was my first lover and he taught me well. Actually, we taught each other well and now I can use those lessons on Tom Kaulitz. I know if he were here, Kei would definitely approve.

Keeping my hands on Tom’s ass-cheeks, I dart my pointed tongue shallowly into his sensitive opening. Then, I do it again. And again. And again, driving into that irresistibly tight little passage, not darting anymore but jabbing. Each time I spike into him, Tom exclaims out loud, although the sound is muffled through the cotton gag he’s wearing. He starts off with short cries, which rapidly turn into lower and longer ones until he gets to throaty, drawn-out groans, both of us lost in desirous need as I rim the hell out of his sweet hole. My jaw starts to ache but I don’t wanna stop.

“Koji?”

Reluctantly halting, I glance up to Bill with hazy eyes and wet lips. “Yeah, baby?”

“He’s ready for your fingers now.”

I don’t even have to ask how Bill knows what his brother is feeling. I just take his word for it. “Alright. Got some lube around here?”

“Sure do,” Bill volunteers, searching for the lubricant in the bedside chest of drawers and locating a flip-cap tube. I squirt some of the clear gel into my hand. Kneeling between Tom’s legs, I begin slicking the lube around the spot that needs it, up and down Tom’s cleft, simultaneously coating my own fingers. Keeping one hand on Tom’s left buttock, I circle a fingertip around the crinkled rose hidden within that cleft and then press against the centre of it, watching as it dimples under pressure. Suddenly, my fingertip disappears into the loop of muscle and I am thrilled at the ease at which it goes in. Tom is in a deep state of arousal and that combined with my earlier tongue preparation means this exercise is going to be easy. I slowly slide my index finger all the way into that heated passage and Tom groans behind his gag. I can see the hairs on the skin of Tom’s legs and buttocks rising, surrounded by minuscule bumps on his flesh.

I move my initial finger in and out a few times and then try adding a second. It goes in just as easily as the first, two of my slick fingers sinking into that expanding hole. Feeling himself stretching back there, dormant nerves flare to tingly life and Tom’s vocals chords vibrate with another involuntary groan.

“Very good,” I laud Tom in a pleased murmur. “You’ve opened right up, sweetheart.”

Wanting to help, Bill shovels his left hand beneath Tom’s belly and the mattress, discovering his twin’s blood-filled prick and cupping it, giving it a squeeze. Tom sucks in a breath through his nostrils, pushing himself into Bill’s palm. The younger musician is chewing on his lower lip in a preoccupied manner, dark eyes fixated on what I’m doing to his brother’s private opening. Letting my lubricated fingers glide all the way out, both Bill and I observe the way the ring of flesh closes up and seals after their departure. Spearing the two slippery digits back in again, I attain great arousal in forcing Tom’s body to open up and take them once more. It’s like breaking in a virgin over and over again.

“I’m looking forward to fucking this fine ass of yours,” I tell Tom and stab my fingers in, as far as they’ll go, pressing my knuckles hard against his perineum. Tom cries out beneath his gag and shifts on the bed, instinctively lifting his hips and pushing up, needing more friction, more pressure, more depth. His arms are taut, straining against the cuffs, and his muscular back is beaded with perspiration.

Bill removes his hand from under Tom, fetching something else from the bedside drawer.

“Here,” he says, passing me a condom packet. “Tom’s ready.”

I always use protection with Bill. Not because I think I might catch something off him; I use it because he prefers not to have semen leaking out of him after sex. He feels it’s messy and a pain to clean up. I assume Tom feels the same way and so to keep his first time with me reasonably mess-free, I put the condom on. Kneeling between his thighs, I slip my lubricated dick between his buttocks, rubbing against him but not entering his body. He moans. He’s ready to be fucked and I’m more than ready to fuck him too but first I’m going to tease the kid, just because I can, and because I’m still a slightly sadistic bastard.

“I’ve dreamed of seeing you this way, spreading your legs for me,” I murmur, moving Tom’s hair up and kissing the bare nape of his neck. “When I first kidnapped you and brought you back to my lair, I swore you wouldn’t be taken against your will but holy hell, Tommy-gun…you don’t know how hard it was for me to keep that promise.”

He cranes his neck, staring up at me with sex-hazed eyes framed by thick lashes, wanting to know more.

“You got me so hot,” I admit. “The more you fought me, the more I desired you. Even though I showed great self-control on the outside, inside I craved nothing more than to throw you on the floor face-down, rip your baggy pants off and shove my dick into that tight, teenage ass of yours.”

Tom utters an indecipherable curse behind his cotton gag, excited by my dirty confession, even though he’s nearing thirty years of age and is no longer a naive teenager.

“I could have easily fucked you into submission,” I breathe into his ear, flicking my tongue over his pierced lobe. “Broke you. Made you my little bitch. But I didn’t want to hurt you. You were so scared and so young.”

I draw back to gaze at his still youthful, but more adult-looking man-face with its scruffy beard and harder lines. “Not anymore. Look at you. You’re all grown up now, Tom.”

Shifting my pelvis, the tip of me nudges tauntingly against his twitching entrance. “Now I can have you any way I want. Isn’t that right?”

I pull down the gag so Tom can reply. He licks his dry lips and then snaps, “Yes! Okay? You can have me, so fucking shove it in already!” He emphasises his point by bucking backwards to try and get me to enter him.

“You used to be such a straight-acting kid, Tom Kaulitz,” I purr mockingly. “Such a tough little gangsta. Now look at you, begging for cock. When did you turn into such a greedy whore?”

He growls needily, yanking at his handcuffs with more vigour. Bill doesn’t object to me calling his brother a whore; he just watches us with darkened, half-masted eyes, slowly fisting his prick with one tattooed hand and kneading his shaven balls with the other. I give him a lusty glance, meeting his heated gaze for a few focused and intense moments, just to let him know I haven’t forgotten about him and am greatly enjoying his aroused voyeurism, before I turn back to the other twin on the bed. Tom’s body is slick and sweaty as he rapidly nears the point of unfulfilled delirium, the bearded guitarist swearing breathlessly as I torment him with the touch of my cock, but don’t put it in. With both hands still cuffed to the bedhead, he can’t do anything but dig his toes into the mattress and push up against me in desperation.

“Tell me that you want me,” I order, teasing Tom with the non-penetrating slide of my swollen staff. “Admit that you wanted me back then, seven years ago, even when you wouldn’t let me touch you. Say it or I won’t give you what you crave.”

He whines at my tormenting, lifting his butt and entreating, “Please… you motherfucker… please.”

“Tell me!” I command him from above, grabbing a handful of his hair and yanking his head back.

“All right. All right!” he blurts in frustration. “I wanted you back then. I was just afraid, okay?”

“And you’re not anymore?”

“No. I’m not. I want you, Koji.” Tom’s voice almost breaks here. “Goddammit, after all this time, I still fucking want you.”

“Good boy,” I praise him softly, stroking a palm lovingly over his dark head, remembering the defiant yet confused nineteen year old kid with dreads that he used to be, and how I still see him that way sometimes.

“Uncuff him now,” I instruct Bill, who takes the little key and unlocks the metal restraints around Tom’s wrists. Thankful to finally be free, the older twin moves his arms down and briefly rubs at the slightly-chafed skin over his wrist bones before rolling around to face me. His black-coffee eyes are blazing up at me ferociously, telling me in no uncertain terms that I better not mess with him any longer or he’ll strangle me with his bare hands. But I’m done messing with him; now it’s time to stop playing and give us both what we desire. My chest swelling with fierce love and lust, I lean down and kiss him, capturing his pierced lips with my own unpierced ones, his whiskers tickling my chin and upper lip. I slip my tongue into Tom’s mouth, kissing him deeply and passionately, much the same as I’m about to make love to him.

I kneel between his thighs, lowering myself above him, flicking my hair to one side so I can look down and see his face. He lifts his knees up and allows me to settle into position, Tom gripping my upper arms for stability. When I push against his opening and the end of me disappears into it, he arches his body and throws his head back with a gasp. Despite the way his eyebrows pinch together, I’m not hurting him. He has already been well-stretched and prepared so I go in effortlessly, the lining of his inner walls smooth, sleek and scalding. Like his mouth, only tighter, slicker and much, much deeper.

“Oh Gott… Ja, oh Gott,” Tom breathes sexily in German as I’m filling him, inch by decadent inch. Normally, he screws me so this is a truly special moment for both of us. It’s taken nearly ten years for him to trust me enough to let me into his body, but it was so worth the wait. Moaning, I bury myself those last few millimetres, his heat enclosing me fully and snugly for the very first time. We both shudder.

“Tommy, baby…” I whisper huskily, beginning to slide in and out of his welcoming warmth. “Ah, you feel so good...”

He answers with a whimper and clutches at my buttocks to try and pull me in further, proving that it feels good for him too.

“Harder,” Bill encourages in a commanding and aroused voice. “Fuck him hard for me, Koji.”

Wondering when exactly Bill became such a voyeur, I nevertheless obey. I start thrusting into Tom, much rougher than I began, possessively claiming him while his brother watches avidly beside us, Bill jacking himself firmly enough to make the metal bracelets on his wrist jangle. Tom is digging his fingernails into my lower back and giving long groans of need, urging me on. Bracing myself above Tom with one arm, I wedge my other hand between our bellies, finding his neglected male thickness and beginning to pull on it with steady strokes.

He responds in instant pleasure, latching onto my shoulder with his mouth and licking hotly at the bullet-wound he gave to me all those years ago. He sticks his tongue into it and sucks at the round, dimpled scar as though he’s giving it oral, making me hiss, the pink tissue there still surprisingly sensitive after all this time.

“You guys are so hot together,” Bill comments lowly from the sidelines. “So fucking hot.”

The husky sound of Bill’s sex-voice makes Tom clench around me, his inner muscles tightly gripping my hardened length like a vice. That alone would have triggered my own climax except I suddenly feel something prodding at my ass. Bill has moved around behind me, has taken hold of my hips and is starting to push inside me, having already put on some lube. There’s no time for him to prep me but it’s okay - I don’t need it, my body already opening and receiving him, urgently needing release by any means possible. His cock spears me and sinks in deep, not the first time he’s done this to me, but the first time he’s done this while I’ve been inside his brother. Tom looks at Bill over my shoulder and the passion I see burning there in Tom’s eyes just about takes my breath away.

Like crazed men, we all thrust together and come around the same time, a chorus of different-sounding moans combined: mine lower and deeper, Bill’s higher and breathier, and Tom’s louder and hoarser than both of ours. The older twin is spurting uncontrollably all over my hand and against both of our stomachs while I have my second orgasm inside him, and Bill reaches his third inside me.

We all need a few minutes to recover, the three of us separating and sprawling across the bed, panting and twitching from our exertion, the final spasms of climax shooting through our bodies like tiny electric shocks. When I can move, I take off and dispose of my condom.

Sitting up, Bill pulls me and Tom in closer so we can all kiss each other, grateful for the memorable experience we just shared. Their mouths feel identical with both of them having lip-rings and whiskers now and if I had my eyes closed, I probably wouldn’t be able to tell who was kissing me. But it doesn’t matter because they’re like one person in two bodies anyway and I adore each of them equally. Ours is an unusual kind of bond, but it’s real and strong and we reaffirm it with our kisses, tenderly touching each other’s faces and exchanging caring caresses. None of us are sure when we’ll be able to do this again and so we make the most of this rare moment of closeness, before the brightly-lit stage claims the boys again and I have to disappear back into the shadows.

We all end up snuggled in the bed, me in the middle and the twins to either side of me, their legs entangled with mine. They’re both idly smoking post-coital cigarettes. One of Tom’s arms is under my neck, and with his free hand he’s playing with my hair, combing through the long golden-brown strands and wrapping them around his calloused fingers. I have my palm on Tom’s warm, flat stomach, feeling it rise and fall with each of his breaths, and I have my other arm around Bill. The sated singer’s blond head is on my shoulder, his fingertips languidly tracing details of my Japanese sleeve tattoo. I shouldn’t say ‘my’ tattoo because it’s really our tattoo, the bronze and black ink depicting the three of us together, just as we are now, only in dragon form.

“See this?” I murmur, indicating to our entwined bodies. “This is what I wanted us all to do seven years ago. But you weren’t ready then.”

“Well, we definitely are now,” Tom answers with the lazily satisfied tone of a man who just had sex. He exhales a plume of smoke and adds, “Especially since I just let you bone me without being pressure-pointed into it.”

“And I thank you for that,” I heartily reply. “It was an absolute honour, Tom.”

He smirks through his beard. “You bet it is. I don’t give this fine ass to just anyone, you know.”

“I know. Next time you guys need this, just call me, okay?” I glance between Tom and Bill, my expression serious. “Hell, call even if you don’t need me. I simply enjoy hearing your voices.”

“But we love it when you break in and surprise us like this.” Bill grins happily at me. “It’s exciting.”

Caressing his ink-covered ribs, I query, “So, you still want me to be your stalker?”

“Of course we do, Koji,” the younger twin answers of behalf of himself and Tom, sounding appalled that I would even think otherwise. “If you ever stopped stalking us, we would be sorely disappointed. And I would cry my fucking eyes out.”

“Then I won’t stop. Not until you tell me to,” I promise, kissing Bill on the temple, already thinking of novel ideas for my next break and enter. Soon, the Feel It All tour will be over and the twins will be home in L.A. again. All this hectic craziness will have stopped and they’ll be more relaxed and have more spare time to spend with me. Maybe I’ll even sneak into their house and wait for them, naked in their hot tub, provided I can get past all their dogs. Not that I’m afraid of being attacked, hell no. Pumba would most likely lick me to death - that chubby pup poses no threat to anybody.

I, however, am still the most threatening person that Tom and Bill know and while they are not in any danger from me, that so-called ‘fan’ who ripped off Bill’s necklaces in Kiev is soon going to find out just how dangerous and scary I can be. It’s a pity I wasn’t there when it happened but the twins had their regular security guards flanking them and I tend to stay away when not required. Although, it seems even burly security guards aren’t enough of a deterrent to grabby nut-jobs like that female. Thanks to footage taken on phones and on cameras at the airport, I’ve tracked her down and later tonight I am making a little trip to her place. That bitch will never touch Bill again, or even come NEAR him or Tom for the rest of her sorry existence, I can assure you. Nobody messes with either of my boys and gets away with it.

All they want to do is create music and make people happy, even if it takes a toll on them and their own health. Poor kids are so tired, their eyelids already half-closed, both of them yawning.

“I know you have another huge day tomorrow so I’ll leave you two to get some sleep,” I say sympathetically to the brown-eyed pair in bed with me, kissing each of them in turn. “I love you.”

“We love you too,” Bill mumbles, hugging me one last time before I get up. “Don’t we, Tomi?”

At his brother’s prompting, Tom utters an exhausted-sounding, “Yeah. What Bill said.”

Tom’s not the type to gush about his feelings or say that he loves me directly, but I know he does, just as much as Bill, and so their words have me smiling and feeling like the luckiest man on Earth as I get dressed. Having one person in love with you is a gift; having the Kaulitz twins in love with you is like winning the lottery every damn day of your life.

I used to feel horrible and guilty about kidnapping them, but now I realise that it was the best thing I ever did. I gave them their freedom seven years ago but they’re still my captives, in every single way.

And I’m not sorry one little bit.

THE END (again!)
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Captivation