Chained | By : Safire1 Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2332 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title- Chained (yeh you know
this is going to be exciting!)
Author- Safire1
Pairing- Marik/Bakura
Rating-R
Summary- What REALLY
happened to get Bakura injured to make ‘Namu’ seem more genuine. YAOI and BDSM.
Marik/Bakura
Warnings- Slash, Yaoi,
whatever u want to call it, BDSM
Disclaimer- I own Marik and
Bakura on Friday nights only, for my exercise session and then they go back to
their respective owners *mutter*
A/N- You know when Namu
takes an injured Bakura to his friends- well I couldn’t help thinking how he
got hurt… this is my spin on it anyway, I just can’t imagine dear Bakura
allowing himself to be beaten up! Oh, and a billion and one thanks to Kharessa
Bloodrose for the inspiration, you truly are a goddess! For anyone who reads
this, go read “An Arrangement of Thorns” *purrrrr* www.ofelvesandmen.com/index.htm
it’s a Lord of the Rings fan fiction with a naughty, naughty Erestor. *Grin*
Oh and a billion and two thanks to
Spam, u rule!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“What do I need to do for you in
order to receive the millennium items Marik?”
“It’s quite simple actually”
“Aright, I’m listening”
“First, answer me this, how strong
are your dueling skills?”
“Extremely strong”
“Excellent”
“You should know, I’ve dueled in
several shadow games throughout history. Surprised?”
“I’m not. It all makes sense now.”
“I’ve returned for the sole purpose
of obtaining the seven millennium items and the power they possess. I’m going
to ask you again. What do you want from me?”
“I need you to duel on my behalf
and then I’ll deliver the millennium items to you.”
“I’ll duel whomever you want me to,
provided I get my payment. But tell me, what exactly is it that you expect to
gain from the battle I duel for you Marik?”
I told you. I’m a collector, like
you. Win me the cards I want and the items are yours…”
*~*~*~*~*
“Agreed.”
He reached out his hand to shake, a
superior smirk on his face as Marik grasped it. The fool had no idea what he
was trading away! He squeezed the other’s hand hard, in an attempt to
intimidate, receiving only a maniacal grin back as Marik’s own grip tightened
around Bakura’s.
The anger rose easily and he
attempted to pull his hand away. “Let me go” he ordered threateningly, eyes glinting
dangerously.
It happened so quickly- with a deft
twist of his hand, Bakura found himself pinned to the wall, the strong Egyptian
holding him securely in place as he fought for his freedom. Bakura smirked
evilly; he wasn’t a tomb robber for no reason. Using a quick maneuver he had
used many centuries ago to get out of such situations, he reversed their
positions, pressing Marik’s back hard against the wall, feeling the familiar
blood lust course through his veins, causing his cock to throb with anticipation.
Oh he was going to enjoy this. This damn tomb-keeper was far to ‘cocky’ for his
liking. He grinned at his own pun, pressing against Marik hard, letting him
feel his arousal against his own.
Marik growled. No way was he going
to be uke!
I let go of him, I’m itching for a
fight, and I lick my lips predatorily as he looks at me, his lavender eyes
wary. Oh yes. I’d fight him, make him bleed, then ram into that tight little
body of his, and listen to him scream. I almost groan at the image, of his
delectable ass, begging to be taken.
I refocus. Marik no longer looks
concerned; in fact I can tell he’s just as aroused as I am, a sexy little smirk
playing on his lips. I open my mouth to insult him, to tell him what I was
going to do to his pretty little body. He coils, spring like and pounces
with that cursed feline grace of his, and before I can retaliate he’s on me,
shoving me roughly against the wall, I hiss as my hands are pinned, held
captive as he smiles that psychotic grin of his. He reaches into his pocket,
retrieving a pair of objects that glimmer in the sunlight. He’s fast and I
struggle against him, fighting the seductive clasp of metal as it is shackled
to my hands and then the railing above my head, successfully holding me at bay.
I glower furiously at him, though
my body betrays the bloodlust only slightly in check. Anger. Lust. Furious
animal instincts. I lash out with my feet. He captures them easily, holding
them either side of his hips as he steps forward between them, rubbing his
arousal against my hardened groin. I growl, pushing against him. I want more, I
want blood, pain, pleasure, mingling together as sweat pours into raised welts;
and I will get what I want!
I use my feet to push him roughly
to the ground and pull furiously at my bindings, almost feral with the need to
mark this tomb-keeper, mark him as my own, mar that beautiful bronzed skin and
break it, releasing the flow of life held back only by the tlayelayer of skin
so easily destroyed.
He looks up at me and laughs.
“Naughty thief,” he smirks, getting
to his feet. He steps toward me and I grin am, sm, showing my pointed teeth, I
laugh quietly, if he thinks he can control me, he’s so very wrong…
He grins at me, the evil smile that
drives me wild, I want those teeth in me, I want to mark that skin in return,
hurt him to hear his screams. He wants to be hurt, thrives on the mixture of
pain and pleasure. I turn my back on him; I know he can’t stand to be ignored.
I stroll toward my motorcycle, despite the fact my own body cries for me to
turn the other way, release the thief, be abused by him. I crave it, the smell
of blood and sweat.
He turns his back on me and the
anger rises. I pull on the chains again, angrily, smiling in satisfaction as I
feel the railing start to give from above me
I lift myself by my shackles, hanging my entire weight on the thin
metal, somersaulting silently as it gives away without a sound. I straighten
elegantly, moving stealth fully to move behind Marik- he would pay. No one
ignores me!
He’s free. I can feel his glare,
burning into my back, consuming me. I’m no longer moving, though my
instincts tell me to run. I want to see what he will do, how he’ll hurt me. I’m
so hard, the fearful anticipation and danger arousing me to impossible heights,
my heart pounding in my chest.
He grabs me roughly, throwing me to
the ground, I smile, feeling the rough bitumen of the alleyway scraping the
skin off my knuckles and arms as Bakura pins them back above my head,
straddling my hips and all but ripping the shirt from my chest. He leans
forward and there is something darkly sexual about the way he bends and bites hard
at the juncture of my collarbone. I gasp and buck against him involuntarily as
I feel the broken skin bleed. I purr as he laps at the coppery liquid, and
growls in satisfaction. As he draws back I see his eyes, darkened almost to
black with lust, eyeing me predatorily. He rakes his fingers down my chest and
I cry out, arching into the cruel bite, forgetting that my hands have been
released. The chill of the metal still adorning Bakura’s wrists contrasts
sensually with the heat of the pain. He grins evilly, reaching his hands up to
twist my taut nipples cruelly. A gasp escapes my lips and I reach forward
pulling him into a fierce possessive kiss. He’s all teeth and biting, nipping
at my tongue and biting my lips with fiery passion and enthusiasm, lapping at
marred skin.
I’m so close, I’m going to come if
he doesn’t stop soon, I don’t want this to end, I haven’t had my fun with him
yet!
I flip him, straddling him as he
was me a moment ago. He growls and his eyes glint ferally. I know he’s
dangerous and could kill me in an instant but strangely it only makes the
situation sexier. For now he’s curious as to what I’m going to do. He doesn’t
struggle as I tangle my hands in his hair, pulling roughly to bring him into a
blinding kiss. The action causes his clothed erection to brush against my own
and I moan into the kiss before pushing him back roughly.
“Naughty thief” I repeat again,
aware that I probably look as crazy as I feel, ah well, I blame Malik for that.
I stand, grabbing the front of his
shirt I haul him up, throwing him face first into the wall on the opposing side
to the other one, working deftly I chain him again, watching as he tries to
turn around, cursing furiously as I manage to hold him captive once again. The
rail I’ve attached him to this time is stronger than it’s counterpart. He’ll
have a hard time escaping this one.
I survey my handiwork, pleased for
a moment as he bucks and turns, spitting and cursing. I’m mesmerized, the power
that is in his lithe form, the ferocity, the movement of his muscles as he
twists in a futile attempt to break free.
I turn quickly to my motorcycle, grabbing
the necessary component before returning to him again. I press against him,
leaning forward to bite the tip of his ear. He hisses, holding still as I draw
blood, lapping it away, mimicking his previous actions to myself.
“Look here tomb-robber” I whisper,
“you should listen to your superiors.”
I feel his body tense in rage as I
speak and wonder briefly if I’ve crossed the line. I shrug, reaching up I tear
the shirt away from his body. He makes no sound, despite the red rim that
appears around his neck where the material resisted. I admire his body for a
second. The flawless skin. I smile sadistically; flicking the object in my hand
he flinches in surprise as the lash nips the inside of his knee, letting him
know what’s coming. I press against him, my arousal hot in his cleft. I rub
against him almost desperately. I want release so badly.
“I’m going to ruin that beautiful
skin of yours Bakura” I whisper, licking cur curve of his ear.
He just laughs, somewhat breathless
with desire. “Good.” He leans back into me and I gasp. ‘Creative’ I think
appreciatively, dipping my head to lick at his neck, planting small bites every
few inches. I stand back, and with a gracefully gesture, plant the first
strike.
His back arcs and I hear his moan,
whether with pain or pleasure I’m not sure. I pause, giving him a moment to
recover before striking again. It’s definitely pleasure this time as he tosses
his head back, eyes closed as he growls.
I bring it down again, feeling
indescribably pleasure, as red welts appear on his back, the crack bringing me
ever closer to the brink. I swallow, unable to control myself, as I strike more
rapidly, no hesitance or restraint as the lash rains down.
The lash rains down, there seems to
be no particular pattern to his blows and I can hear his heavy breathing over
the crack of the whip, he’s having trouble preventing himself from breaking
down and fucking me I can bet, wielding the whip would not cause him to be so
out of breath. I wonder briefly if he always carries such instruments with him,
but the thought is pushed out of my mind with the next bite, as the pleasure
mounts.
I lean into the cruel bite, the
pain, intense and white hot, shockwaves going straight to my groin, filling me
until I’m sure I’m going to explode.
I feel a strange satisfaction,
knowing that Marik is marking the perfect porcelain body of my host; similar to
the feeling I had in ancient times when I crushed a sacred relic beneath my
feel. Sacrilege, Sacrilege, Sacrilege.
I feel the sting of sweat in the
lacerations on my back and moan, treasuring the heated pain. The tension in the
air is almost hyper charged now, bursts of white appear behind my eyelids after
every stroke of the lash and I’m breathing harshly, longing for more, for the
burn, the pain of being taken mercilessly.
I hear the lash fall to the ground
as Marik presses hard against me, his skin pressing brutally against the
abrasions, I grin, leaning my head back as he bites my neck, hard enough to
break skin. I lean further and return the favour, cherishing the metallic
copper taste that fills my mouth. He pushes against me urgently, leather
against denim. He reaches around my slim body, unbuttoning my jeans
impatiently, and yanking them roughly to my ankles. I feel him behind me, removing
his own trousers before coming up behind me, a touch on the nape of my neck is
the only preparation I get as he rams into me. I cry out, the force of
penetration propelling my chest into the wall, I laugh ferally, the rough brick
scraping my chest and knuckles. He grasps my forearms as he moves inside of me,
the burning pain, the blinding heat and friction. I groan as I feel his hand
snake around, taking my engorged flesh in hand stroking it expertly as I feel
him explode inside of me, as he climaxes, I come hard, spurting hot and sticky
onto the wall, the head of my cock brushing the coarse brick roughly. He gasps,
resting against my back for a moment before removing his flaccid organ from my
body. I hear him laugh as he surveys the damage and I cannot help but grin in
return. He leans toward me again, whispering in my ear.
“Adequate, Bakura” he laughs, and
then all goes black…
I watch as his head slumps forward and I grin, glad that he’s
unconscious as I reach to unshackle him. However much I would have loved to see
his retaliation to being ties up like the feral he was, I had God Cards to
collect there would be time for games later… I redress him the best I could
with his tattered shirt and bloody jeans. I smile sadistically, feeling pleased
with myself, composing my face into a friendly mask as I pocket the chains and
step onto the street. Time for phase two…
I hear indistinct voices as I come
around
“I tried to take care of his
injuries, you know him? He hasn’t said a word since I found him.” I allow Ryou
to take the lead. I hear Marik’s voice
and seethe inwardly, but there would be time for punishment later…
“I tried to take care of his
injuries. You know him? He hasn’t said a word since I found him.”
I try to focus my eyes, why did I
hurt so much…
“We’re buddies, but who could have
done this?”
My mind catches up with me and I
almost sob with relief as I recognize Joey’s voice, my throat tries to close up
on me as I attempt to speak.
“Joey?” I choke out, trying to cry
and vomit and pass out all at the same time. Bakura. Bakura had done this, he
had liked it, had enjoyed the pain Marik had forced on us as he made me
watch, make me feel it all.
“Bakura! What happened?!”
I open my mouth again, but suddenly
find myself unable to speak.
//watch your words hikiari// a
voice warns inside my head.
I freeze, taking notice of the
threatening tone of my yami’s voice. My mind is running at a million miles and
hour and I hurt. I try to form a proper sentence.
//Why?// is all I can manage,
trying not to break down in tears //Bakura?!//
Silence…
I bow my head submissively, “It
happened so quickly, I can’t remember,” I lie, sounding hollow, even to myself.
Marik’s arm tightens around me
almost warningly, and I’m lost, swimming in my disjointed thoughts. I want
nothing more than to be free of sadistic yami’s and be a normal kid again!
“I’m lucky I found you all,” ‘Namu’
speaks again, “he needs to get to a hospital, quickly!”
I almost laugh. ‘Yeah, thanks to
you’ I think bitterly, hearing my yami’s metallic laughter in my mind as he
catches the last thought.
“Sound’s like Bakura’s the lucky
one, I’ll take him to a Doctor right now. Joey, give me a hand!” Yugi’s
grandfather? What is he doing here?
I’m relieved as a taxi is summoned
and I’m free of that sadistic bastard, I slump in the seat, moaning pitifully
as pain shoots through me and my shirt chafes on the lacerations on my back.
“There you go” Joey says, tapping
the top of the cab
“We’ll be alright” Mr. Moutou says
gravely. I grimace inwardly ‘speak for yourself’ I mutter, coming out more as a
pathetic groan. “We’ll call of there’s any news”
“Best of luck!”
“Thanks Mr. Moutou!” Tea’s voice
pipes up. ‘Christ she’s annoying’, I think, suddenly glad I’m leaving.
I can hear Bakura’s laughter again
in the back of my mind and I wonder at my own sarcastic thoughts. He must be
rubbing off on me, we’ll he’s always telling me how weak I am, maybe it’s a
good thing…
“Get better Bakura!”
I smirk, oh I’d get better, as soon
as I got my hands on that tomb keeper, this ‘game’ wasn’t over yet…
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So, wanna sequel? i have one planned and written... i can TRY to egt it back from Australia for you all *lol*
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