(no subject)
Watari leaned forward and put his head in his hands, staring up at the computer screen. That Muraki even wanted anything to do with him was an event in itself- the "It Will Never Happen To Me" Law in action!- but that this was actually serious... It was like waking up to a nightmare.
Muraki watched silently from the shadows of the room, lips curving slightly at the blondes disquiet. The scientist truly was an amusement , and with his long golden hair and delicate figure he seemed almost a doll. This little distraction would serve more than one purpose tonight. His face was cool as he seemed to glide forward, draping himself over Wataris back in an intimate manner. His hand slid into the soft golden curls as he inhaled the scent of the mans hair. He made no other sound as his free hand crept over the shinigami's neck to cover his mouth.
The first shock to Watari's system came from feeling someone embracing him from behind. He thought he'd been the only one in the room, and he hadn't heard the door open. Then the second shock came when he realized who it was. Who it had to be. Almost involuntarily, his entire body stiffened in terror, and he opened his mouth to scream before he was quickly silenced. Then the shock wore off, and he began to struggle, twisting, trying to get free.
Muraki's lips spread into an almost beautific smile as the man struggled against him. Not being able to hear the scream had been a dissapointing necessity, but this was almost as titillating. The hand in Wataris hair slid to his throat, sharp nails digging into the jugular." I would truly appreciate it if you stopped struggling." He said conversationally. " I am quite sure you cannot die from it... but I am sure it would be an inconvenience for you if I tore out your throat"
Watari froze. Muraki might be psychotic, but he knew he was more than capable of such a thing. He gripped the arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white- Even if the doctor hadn't pinned his arms to his sides, he doubted that he could have moved them. So he sat in the chair, every muscle in his body rigid, eyes wide and darting around, trying to think of some way to get this creepy bastard the hell off of him.
Muraki moved slightly, lips brushing against Watari's ear as he chanted softly, the tone of his voice making the simple binding spell sound obscene. The hand on the mans throat flexed,as he almost absently dug well manicured nails into soft flesh, relishing the small trickle of blood that stained his fingers.
The touch of the lips on his ear made Watari's skin crawl, and he tried to shudder before he realized he couldn't move at all anymore. He inhaled sharply through his teeth as he felt Muraki's fingers move on his throat, and the hiss turned to a small, muffled cry as he felt the nails dig in. His mind filled with panic as it finally began to dawn on him: He was in serious trouble.
Muraki pulled away and slipped in front of the now bound man. He raised his bloodstained hand to his lips, pink tongue flicking out to taste the shinigamis life essence. " Your kind always tastes better than a human." He remarked. He grabbed Wataris chin and leaned close, eyes cold as his lips formed into a smirk. He could do so many things to the scientist...but there was a time for everything. He began to chant again,bloodied fingers running down Wataris throat. This was not the place for games. He wanted his little doll to scream for his pleasure.
Watari glared at Muraki as the other grabbed his chin, eyes blazing with disgust and hatred. He was still tense, and it was agonizing not to be able to react the way he wanted as the fingers ran down his throat, to bolt back and get as far away from him as he could. But no matter what, he decided, he was not going to scream. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "What the hell do you want, you twisted bastard?" He snarled, clenching his teeth so tightly that he thought they might shatter.
Muraki let out a soft laugh as the air around them began to glow. " What do I want? Why I should think it would be quite obvious... perhaps you're not as intelligent as I had thought" He tangled his hand in Watari's hair again, pulling it back to run his tongue over the sluggishly bleeding marks on the scientists neck. Savoring the taste,he made a small gesture,transporting them to his previously prepared destination. The room was dark but airy and dominated by a large canopy bed covered in red silk.
In spite of everything, a strangled scream forced its way through Watari's clenched teeth as Muraki licked his neck. "...Sorry, I still don't get it. The idea of you wanting to braid my hair with ribbons like a little schoolgirl is disturbing, even for you," he snapped, looking up. Then he realized the surroundings had changed, and as he looked around, felt an increasing sense of dread.
Muraki dropped him on the bed like a ragdoll, stepping back to admire the picture he made. "Ah, but my dear scientist, according to you nothing I do has a reason. However, I must admit it is the events proceeding the braiding that excites me the most." He slid into the bed behind him, lifting Watari to rest against his own broad chest as he breathed in the smell of the mans soft hair again, now tainted enticingly with sweat and fear. " Dolls need to be... pretty" He said softly, a hand creeping over Watari's thigh. " Watari-san, I am going to enjoy this greatly... however" his slim fingers drifted up the blonds chest and began to unbutton his shirt. " I am not quite sure you will"
Dread turned into panic again, and Watari fought the binding with all his strength as Muraki moved him. It was for nothing; all he could do was move his neck, and turn his head as far away from the other man as he could. "No shit, I won't," he growled, but by this time, the spite in his voice was faltering. He was afraid. He was afraid, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hide it. For a split second, he wondered if this was how Tsuzuki had felt. And the kid.
Muraki tugged the shirt off of Watari's limp arms and slid his hands over the mans bared chest. "You have a very beautiful body...I will enjoy seeing it bleed " He said before unintelligble words spilled from his lips and long white satiny ribbons slipped from the canopy to twine around Watari's body. They lifted his dead arms at the wrists, bindings tight as the tips of them snaked lower around his chest. Finally one wrapped around his neck,tightening and drawing it back against the doctors shoulder. " Would you do me the favor of struggling, my dear scientist?" He said as he snapped his fingers and freed Watari from the waist up.
Under any other circumstances, Watari would have known that struggling was just what Muraki wanted. But his mind was still clouded by blind panic and he didn't care, he wanted to get away. So he thrashed, twisting his head and his waist, always turning away from the doctor. And then there was pain, in his neck and wrists and everywhere he was bound. Watari forced himself to calm down, and turned to see blood staining the white ribbons. "...What..." He managed, staring with a horrified confusion.
Muraki made an amused noise as he bent to kiss Watari's shoulder staining his lips red as he pressed himself unashamedly against the scientists back. " I can tell you have never been tied up before....which is strange considering the era in which you died. Didn't you know that ropes..or ribbons in this case, cut unless first cured in water? " His fingers slid under the ribbon crossing the other mans chest " So eager to hurt yourself? perhaps You're enjoying this more then I had anticipated."
Watari had never been more grateful for mobility as he quickly moved his shoulder and leaned as far away from Muraki as he could. The pain was still dull, though he was healing. So it wasn't a nightmare. It was actually happening. Okay, Yutaka. Save face. Get it together... Somehow. "...Okay, just because that's your thing, that doesn't mean everyone likes it." He retorted, albeit weakly.
Murakis eyes closed as the hand on Watari's stomach slid over his groin. His eyes opened again as he placed his lips against the mans soft hair "It is amazing what you can do to the human body... to twist the senses and make someone enjoy...something they normally wouldn't"
Watari's brain took a moment to register what had just happened, but when it did, it was all he could to not start screaming. Even so, he grimaced and tried to move away from Muraki without hurting himself even more. Bad touch. Bad touch, bad touch, bad touch, oh my God.
The bed creaked as Muraki shifted his weight body flush against Watari's back, hand maintaining it's position on the mans crotch as it moves lightly " Isn't that a pleasent thought? I could have you begging for my touch eventually... I think it would be an interesting challenge, but I'd rather not break you yet. Is that a comforting thought?" He asked as his other hand ran a fingernail over Watari's chest, the ribbons sliding over soft skin.
"Like hell you will," Watari answered through clenched teeth, still cringing and trying to wriggle away. But there was a small voice in the back of his head that disagreed. Maybe he was right. Even such small contact felt good. But the doubt was quickly squashed. Never. Never in a million years.
Muraki laughed, amused at the sheer denial in the mans voice. " You have no choice really... like it or hate it, you shall still feel my touch" He leaned forward, face serene as his lips brushed Watari's ear and he tugged the ribbon crossing the mans throat with his teeth. " It's amazing how humans, even those who have become shinigami, fight their fate."
Watari shuddered in continual disgust and pulled away from Muraki. The bleeding increased as the ribbon cut against his skin, and try as he might, he couldn't hide a small groan of pain. "This isn't fate, it's you being a psychopath." He snapped back.
Muraki let the ribbon slide from his teeth and bent to glide his tongue over the new line of blood. " And here I had thought you labeled me a soiciopath... I do wish you'd make up your mind which little box you keep me in... "He slid his hand into Watari's pants, free hand still roaming the mans chest and smirked "So I can break out of it again, of course."
OH MY GOD. Watari jerked at the contact and went rigid, nails digging into his palms. This couldn't be happening. He could not be tied up and bleeding in a room with his and his friends' worst enemy, who at present had his hand in his pants. "...I've always called you a psychopath, what are you on?" He answered with a snarl. The strength in his voice was fading and he knew it. He just hoped Muraki didn't.
"Hmm... my mistake" Muraki murmured almost contritely "Then again, what is a psycopath but one who sees differently. " His glass eye glinted in the light as his hand moved in light , leaisurely strokes. "Perhaps, I see more clearly than you, my dear scientist. ."
Watari twitched again and moaned low in his throat at the touch, his head dropping back involuntarily against the other's shoulder. "...N-No-" He gasped, and tried to move away, but without success- the ribbons only cut deeper, and he was still unable to move from his waist down.
Muraki scraped the nails of his free hand over Watari's arched chest. The mans discomfort added to the thrill he was getting from the act, he ached to claim the blond body squirming in his hands, but that would ruin the plans he had worked so long to set... a pity really. " No? Such an eloquent answer really..." He said, the hand between the scientists legs squeezing firmly. " Humans are slaves to their desires...they hide the urge for blood and pleasure under a facade of hypocrisy and righteousness... and give themselves anguish by denying these emotions. Perhaps you feel guilt for finding pleasure in my touch where your friend found pain?" he bit Watari's ear, then soothed the bite with his tounge. " Have you come to welcome the pain yet? A reminder in your closed off mind of what you think you should be feeling? " his hand moved a ribbon aside to pinch the mans nipple as he breathed into his ear " Are you enjoying the pain because the pleasure is so loathesome?"
Watari knew, of course, that the correct answer was that it didn't always matter where the stimulus came from, and if it was up to him, he wouldn't feel anything at all. But he was no longer able to process any rational thought properly, he was so torn between pleasure and absolute revulsion. At Muraki's touch, he struggled more and more, no longer caring about if he hurt himself or not. Maybe if he got lucky, he thought, he'd bleed out before long, and that would be the end of it.
Muraki's fingers slid to Watari's chin and squeezed it as he pulled the mans head back, sliding his cheek against the long soft hair. His finger ran over parted lips, before sliding lower dig nails almost spasomatically into the mans neck. He wanted to... He pulled away from the urge to squeeze, to feel the scientists fragile wind pipe crushed in his hand. Moving his attention elsewhere, he worked his hand skillfully over his new toys nether regions, enjoying the feel of the frantic body against his own. "Your pain is delicious, Yes" he hissed, as if reading the mans mind. "Keep weakening yourself for me... However...don't go too far, my dear scientist. While I hold no compuctions against necrophilia, I doubt you would find it pleasant... If your kind truly dies at all."
Watari froze, and bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from making any more noises. He was torn between wanting to move, to fight back, to do something, and staying still, to keep Muraki from getting off on seeing him react. The latter was becoming increasingly hard- his body was twitching of its own accord, his breathing was fast and shallow, and there was an odd tension building in the pit of his stomach. "...Go to hell," was all he managed to say through clenched teeth, and glared ahead at nothing in particular.
Muraki smirked as the man struggled to stay silent, almost feeling the inner conflict in his very bones. His hands moved from causing pain, to pleasuring the man, anticipating the feel of his body moving in desire and shame. He let out a short laugh at Watari's words, rewarding him with a sharp bite. " We're already there, aren't we my dear scientist... Our own personal hell. How does it feel to be touched by a devil?" His graceful hands slid over the smooth contours of Wataris trembling body expertly.
Watari groaned deep in his throat as Muraki bit him, and struggled to get away once more. Then the conflicting emotions, desire and disgust, got to him, and trembling, he slouched forward, dropping his head almost to his chest. "......Stop..." He said quietly, finally overwhelmed. "Stop... Please." He felt disgusting. Begging for such a thing, begging that bastard for such a thing... Despicable. But that was it. He couldn't take it anymore.
Muraki simply sped up his ministrations, sucking on the bite lightly before pulling away and dragging his tongue to Watari's ear. It was dissapointing to see how quickly he had given in. " Hmm.. Give me three coherent reasons why I should before you come and perhaps I will." He said softly, voice amused. "think hard...I'm sure you can come up with something. "
Watari didn't have a snowball's chance in hell and he knew it. He was too close. But still, he wasn't going to go down without a fight. "One... Y-you're a bastard... T-" Too late. He gasped loudly, and bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from moaning as he suddenly came, going completely rigid until he thought his head was going to burst. Then as he slowly returned to his senses, he tasted blood on his lips. Great. He just lay there for a moment, breathing hard, shaking, and trying to fight the urge to vomit.
Muraki raised an eyebrow "I'm dissapointed in you, Watari... I would have thought you would get at least one...I guess you really enjoyed it that much". His voice took on a cruel cast as he pulled his soiled hand from Watari's pants and wiped it meticulously on the mans stomach. " How does it feel to be brought to orgasm by someone you loathe? Someone who raped your friends, mind and body? Did it feel good?" he pulled Watari into his lap and snapped a finger, the bloodstained ribbons sliding into his hands. "I always keep my promises...do you think these ribbons are pink enough? " he whispered as his fingers combed through Wataris hair, the remaining ribbons binding the blondes hair behind his back.
Watari didn't answer. True or not, Muraki's words stung, and he hated it. He was smarter than this, for God's sake, and the bastard was making him feel like he had betrayed Tsuzuki and the kid, and done it willingly. You've done no such thing, he told himself, now snap out of it. He jerked away from Muraki, snarling. "Don't touch me."
Muraki gripped the mans waist as he moved away " Must I bind you completely again? Sit still like a good doll" He said, leaning forward to slide firm hands over the mans tense shoulders. " Be a good doll and let me do your hair...you found your pleasure...It's only fair." He said mockingly " Running will make no difference in the long run after all..." His hands slid up to lift Watari's hair, sharp nails sliding through tangled silk.
Watari trembled, but stayed still, electing instead to focus on wiping off his stomach- even touching the spot made him sick- and making sure the cuts on his body healed. But wait, what the hell? Screw going easily, he decided, and moved his head to the side, out of Muraki's hands. "Do it, then," he challenged. "You haven't stopped at anything before now."
Muraki grabbed Watari's hair and pulled his head back ,lips twisting into an almost insane smile " I had hoped you would say that" His lips moved and he felt the spell take hold of the body in his arms. " You have such beautiful long hair" he remarked fingers returning to the thick layer of silk, He combed through it absently for a moment before his hands moved to meticulously seperate out strands and wove them with the ribbons in an intricate, yet beautiful design.
Watari almost regretted being bound up again- At least he'd had an outlet the other way; now, his skin was crawling and there wasn't anything he could do. So instead, he gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, telling himself that it was almost over, that soon he would be free and safe and get home and work as hard as he could to forget about everything... He hoped.
Finishing with the mans hair Muraki lifted him like a doll and carried him to the full length mirror that dominated one wall of the room. He let Watari see himself... half naked, pants open and stained with his own passions and blood. His slowly healing scars were fading,but still stood out,imperfections against his skin. His hair was done in an elaberate style and his arms hung limp. Muraki kissed his cheek " Don't you look beautiful, my doll"
Watari grimaced and moved his head away as Muraki kissed his cheek. He didn't look beautiful. He looked disgusting. He felt disgusting, sub-human, and it was all he could do to not scream, or cry, or lash out somehow. He forced himself not to show any reaction. He wouldn't let Muraki see that he had thoroughly gotten to him, because that would be the end of it.
Muraki just smiled enigmatically as Watari moved away. " I do wish I could throw you back on the bed and fuck you senseless..." He purred, pressing the man against him, so that there was no mistaking his desire. "But I have other things to do..." Muraki started to chant under his breath and suddenly they were back in Watari's unchanged room. Muraki set him at his desk and arranged him to his satisfaction. " Your bindings should wear off in a few moments...I had an enjoyable night... but before I go..." He gripped Watari's chin in his hands, pinching the jaw so Watari couldn't bite, then plundered his mouth in a deep,skillful and invasive kiss. Muraki stood and waved as he turned away " Goodbye,pet" Muraki vanished, leaving nothing but a puff of air. As he returned to his suite he smirked to himself. The game had just begun.
That did it. Watari felt bile rising in his throat, part from revulsion, part from remaining constantly tense for the entire time. As soon as he was positive Muraki was gone, and the bindings wore off for sufficient enough movement, he lunged towards a nearby wastebasket and threw up, more and more until there was absolutely nothing left in his stomach. 003 fluttered around his head, hooting her concern and anguish before settling on his shoulder. He stayed hunched over, trembling, trying to collect his thoughts. He couldn't let it get to him, he couldn't. Tsuzuki and the kid needed him to be steady, to not freak out. And Nana... None of them needed to know.
003 continued to hoot and tug at his hair, and Watari noticed that it was still in the braid Muraki had styled. He uttered a small moan of panic, and frantically grabbed at it, tearing at the ribbon, trying to get rid of it as if it was something filthy. Which, of course, it was. Not caring about the state of the rest of his clothes, he staggered to his feet, still feeling ill, and stumbled almost blindly over to the bed, collapsing onto it and drew himself into a shaking huddle. The hope that sleep would come soon was dashed; every time he heard a noise- footsteps in the hall, the computer, even 003 rustling in her sleep- startled him awake so that his eyes darted around the room in fear, terrified that Muraki would return and make his life a living hell.