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love dog	By : Rroselavy Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 6636 -:- 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.

Chapter List
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Title: love dog. (1/7)
Author: Rroselavy
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: S/j, J/oc, S/oc, S/j/oc
Beta: Akuchan
Spoilers: None
Summary: To protect his family, Jounouchi Katsuya works as a prostitute in a teahouse. When Kaiba Seto happens upon the blond in his new vocation, he becomes determined once and for all to put the blond in his place. Neither man is prepared for the fallout from the power exchange of their sexual liaisons.
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He forces me to look at His face when He fucks me. If He catches me with my eyes closed or my head turned, there is hell to pay.
For one, He will refuse to pay the fee, and then Haha will take it out on my hide. The last time He refused to pay, I was punished for a week. My body shudders involuntarily at the thought. Spending seven days confined in a training cage and being fed like a dog is an effective obedience tool.
"That's it, inu," He croons cruelly, as He impales me. "I am your master now." His velvet voice serves as a gentle contrast to the abuse He metes out on my body.
He is right though. I am His, and His alone, as long as He continues to pay a retainer fee to the teahouse. No one else is allowed to touch me, although I am still called on to train new slaves every now and again.
I should be grateful. I am getting on in years, and the tastes of the clientele here run toward the underage or those who can act the part. Until He found me my position was precarious at best, and I'd been relegated to attending to the guests with more ... exotic tastes. *snort* That's a euphemism for the ones who tend to push a slave's limits. It's a good thing I have such a high tolerance for pain--and Haha keeps a close eye on all of His boys--no permanent disfiguring is tolerated.
My eyes are locked on the depths of His arctic blues. I'd like to think He does this because He sees me as somewhat equal to Him, but that's a laugh. We were never equals. I was always His dog in His mind, suitable only to sit at His feet, and now that is exactly the reality of my situation. I am only allowed to look into His eyes when He fucks me. Any other time mine meet with His is bad news indeed. My ass tingles and my face blushes in embarrassment as I remember the public caning He gave me the last time He caught me glancing at Him. Bringing myself back to the present, I read the little tics of the muscles in His face, and despite being completely grossed out at knowing Him so intimately, I can see that He's close to coming. That knowledge sends thrilling shivers down my spine that pool low in my gut, and despite the fact that I hate Him, I am excited that I turn Him on, that I can make Him feel that way. I can't deny the small sense of power that I enjoy as I feel His control slipping. He comes inside me with a harsh nip to my throat, which He follows up on by greedily suckling at the bruised skin. He is allowed to mark me, because He has bought that right. Until He tires of me and moves on, He owns me. My stomach turns when I think about that.
He grabs me roughly by the hair and assaults my mouth. I know that if I am a good pet, He'll let me come, finally. I haven't been good enough lately--though it seems that He keeps changing the rules of this game--and after our last appointment He'd ordered me not to come for ten days. Ten days of hell. Now I lay as passively as I can, letting Him violate my mouth as His hand ghosts over my encased erection. He fingers my swollen anus and smirks at the way my body involuntarily arches against Him, but I clamp my mouth shut. He likes to hear me beg, but the last time we were together I made the mistake of speaking before He said it was okay. For that indiscretion I paid dearly; I was displayed chained on my hands and knees in the punishment cage for two days. It was totally humiliating to hear the other boys and guests talk about me and ... fondle me. And to top it off, I'd been blindfolded, so I couldn't even see who my tormentors were. I hate the fact that any of the guests could have had their dirty hands on me, and I have no idea which of them did. And I'm sure a couple of the slaves did, even among the outcasts there is a hierarchy, and because of the status being owned by Him gives me, I'm hated by them all.
"Good boy. You're learning." He nods to himself smugly. God I want to beat that evil grin off of His face, but He is the only thing that keeps me safe from hustling on the streets. Or worse, and too much is dependent on me being able to please Him. I think about my sister, safe for the time being, and my old man, slowly dying as his liver fails him. I do this for them, I keep telling myself, as if that will make it more bearable. The fact that my Master doesn't know exactly how much I need Him, does nothing other than serve to further my humiliation. I am at the complete mercy of a heartless bastard.
I feel like I am about to explode from need when His fingers dance over the engorged head of my cock. It alone is unsheathed, and because of that, has become ten timse more sensitive to His touch. My breathing is reduced to shuddering gasps as I force myself to lie still with every ounce of willpower I can find inside me. I'm tied up and helpless, my ankles doubled-back and bound to my thighs, my arms handcuffed at the wrists and stretched over my head, and my cock would be jutting straight up in the air if it wasn't sheathed in the reinforced leather cock ring that He favors, one that flattens it against my stomach. If He loosens the restraint before He gives me the green light, I'm dead; He'll be able to torture me at will. I block out that terrifying thought, and instead I think about how much He's enjoying His ownership of me.
"Nothing to say?"
I shake my head warily. If He knows how desperate I am, He will make me wait longer.
"You haven't been cheating, have you?" God help me, He's tormenting me with His feather-light touches. "You haven't come since I was here last?" I shake my head. It has been nothing short of torture, but I've abided by the law that He laid down. Haha can back me up on it, as He held the key to the chastity belt my Master fitted me with. He teases one nipple and then the other with His tongue and teeth, and my mouth begins watering from need. He glances back at my face and I can see the disappointment flit across His features; He was hoping that I'd committed some infraction so that He could punish me again. Too bad, ya sick fuck.
"Do you want to come?"
I nod my head once, decisively.
"That's too bad, because I really don't think you've been sufficiently punished for your behavior from last time." He says in my ear lightly. He enjoys making me suffer. I stifle a sob, and manage not to look away. If I make it out of this appointment with good behavior ... then maybe next time ... a tear of humiliation manages to slip from one eye. I can't believe that I've been reduced to this. I'm worse than the dog He calls me.
"Eyes down." He orders roughly, and the tears that had been welling in the corners of my eyes fall freely. I want to cry, to wail like a baby at the unfairness of it all, I don't deserve this, and I would rather it be anyone other than Him who had this power over me. But that's a lie. There have been others before Him, and they treated me much worse than this. It's just that they didn't know I had a name, a life, they only saw me as an object. He knows me all too well, and uses that against me even as He fucks my brains out. Bastard. Something soft brushes my cheek and it takes me a moment to realize that it's His tongue lapping up the wetness. He owns even my tears, I think miserably, and that thought opens the floodgates; they flow freely now. "Beg me." He says huskily. "Tell me what you want, and perhaps I'll give you what you need."
I pull myself from the pity party and think about what He's asking for a few moments. This is some kind of a test, I know it. If I say that I want Him let me to come, I know that He'll deny me.
We're engaged in another game, but only He knows the rules. "Master," I begin, my voice wavering softly. "I want to suck Your cock. Please Master," I say sweetly despite the bile from that admission rising in my throat.
He laughs, but the sound is devoid of its usual derisiveness. "Is that so? I'm not ready yet."
"I want to make You hard again." I lower my voice to a husky whisper. "I want to taste You."
"You little slut." He chides without malice. "What you really want is for me to suck you off."
"No!" I lie. "No, I want to give You head." I gasp, because his accusation has set off a flood of images in my head of our roles reversed, and now I can barely concentrate, the sensation of my dick being encased in the moist heat of His mouth is palpable. "I want to feel Your velvety skin under my tongue. Please, Master." This is so wrong, my brain tells me. I despise every thing about Him, but I need ... release.
"Very well," He concurs. I feel him unfasten the restraints that bind my ankles and thighs, and then my wrists are lowered. "Roll over and get on your knees."
I do as I'm told, and am quickly re-tied with my wrists to ankles. The position is uncomfortable, but I'm used to that. In fact, considering some of the positions I've suffered tonight, it's downright luxurious. Five fucking star. He's semi-erect already when my lips brush over the satiny crown of His shaft. I taste the salty metallic of His come as I take Him in until my nose is buried in His pubic hair. I feel His cock come alive under my tongue and I suck for all I'm worth. He stifles a moan and crushes my head into His groin as my teeth scrape along His length. Good thing I no longer have a gag reflex; one of my many debatable talents. He's fucking me in the mouth as much as I'm blowing Him, and it is violent and hot at the same time. I don't know when it came about that I liked it rough, but damned if I'm not ready to explode when His come hits the back of my throat. He releases my head and pushes me backwards. I'm in an awkward position, but He's beyond caring, if He ever did at all. I notice through the fringe of my eyelashes that His face is flushed with lust as His fingers work the intricate buckles of the cock restraint. At any other time the manhandling of my sex would hurt like a motherfucker, but all I can focus on is my need to control my release. I don't want to think of how I will be punished if I don't hang on until He gives me the word.
He stops suddenly as He frees my cock. Of course He is sated, so now He can torture me some more, but the gods must be smiling on me because He lays down beside me, and as His hand touches my chest He whispers into my ear the word I've been waiting to hear for hours.
"Come." His fingers have found one of my nipples, and He rolls it gently between thumb and forefinger. Despite my wishing otherwise, He's an adept lover, and in our time together He's become the complete Master of my body. He knows how to elicit responses from it, and often uses that knowledge to test my ability to control myself. Much like He used to taunt me when we were at school, or when we dueled.
I do so, violently. My seed splashes my body and I feel flecks of semen land on my face. He snickers in my ear softly and licks its shell, but He allows me to bask in my orgasm. At the moment, I think it is the greatest gift I've ever been given. I'm crying again, but these tears are ones of happiness and relief. I was good enough. I earned my reward. I will leave the ramifications of why I should be so overjoyed by those thoughts to torture myself with later. I only know now that I haven't felt this worthy, this happy in months.
He rolls away from me and off the bed with catlike grace, and I relax as best I can for the moment, suddenly aware of the padding of the mattress, and the incredibly soft sheets caressing my body. I'm not allowed in a bed unless I'm with a guest, and because of His status we are in the nicest room the teahouse offers. It would be heaven to be allowed to sleep here, but for all I know He is getting ready to leave, and I'll be returned to my cell and the mat that serves as my bed, or He will stay the night and force me to sleep on the floor like the dog that I am to Him. Still, to stay here with Him would be better than being sent back to my cold room. I hear Him drawing water into the deep tub in the corner of the room and my heart skips a beat. He's planning on staying a while longer, which means it will be sometime before I have to leave the opulent appointments of this room, and be returned to the solitude of my own thoughts.
I close my eyes, ignoring the fact that I'm trussed like a sacrificial pig, and pretend that I am in some swanky hotel room in some far off land--an exotic island with the view from the floor-to-ceiling windows a beach stretching outside to the horizon. The actual vista I can see from this room when I open my eyes is that of a lovely private garden. It's late winter, and I can see the cherry tree twigs are plump with buds. My eyes flutter closed again as I think about basking in the sun on the beach of my imaginary island.
"You are not falling asleep." The words cut through my reverie and my eyes pop open in alarm to His face hovering inches above mine. Shit. I look away immediately and He rolls me roughly onto my side. Deft fingers release the bindings; my limbs are unwieldy and numb. Faintly, I sense that He is rubbing the feeling back into them. My head is spinning; I'm totally confused. I can't understand any kindness He offers me. I'm on edge; it's far easier to accept His cruelty than ... this. After a while, when He is sure that the feeling has returned to my limbs, He gets up and pads away from me, I gaze at His back, eyes sliding appreciatively over His perfect ass. He is drop-dead gorgeous, with a body to die for, and I know for a fact that several of the other boys have flaunted their wares in front of Him in an effort to steal Him from me. I need to be careful, or I might end up with a blade between my ribs. This place can be more cutthroat than Hirutani and the Rintama boys ever were.
I should be proud that He's chosen me. He could have anyone in the world, certainly there are prettier, more obedient boys in this teahouse, but there is a nagging thought that gnaws on the frayed ruins of my self-esteem. It taunts me, tells me that He chose me so that He could embarrass me completely; continue His torment of my psyche that started from the day we first met. He slips into the tub and I avert my eyes before He completely turns around and catches me. "Come." He says again, and I, like the obedient dog that I am, crawl across the floor and to the tub.
"Good boy," He says absently. He pets my head, and I feel the heat from a blush of humiliation staining my cheeks. His fingers curl around the collar fastened around my neck and He pulls me forward. I know what He wants and I climb into the tub. He pulls me against him until I'm sitting in His lap, my back against his chest. I feel his cock harden beneath my ass and He lifts me up and seats me on It. Kaiba Seto is an insatiable sex machine I think as His hips roll once again in an all-too-familiar rhythm.
The water alleviates the pain of my chafed skin and aching muscles. Although we are expected to keep clean here, a bath is an obscene luxury. I'm hard again in seconds, the abstinence of the past ten days coming back to bite me in the ass. I lean back against Him, by now I've come to realize that He doesn't demand too much from His fuck toy, just a level of willingness. He traps both my wrists with one hand and I gasp in surprise when elegant fingers wrap around my shaft and He begins to pump me in rhythm, but I refrain from any vocalizations; I'm still not out of the woods yet. The power He holds over me is utterly sickening.
Just before I can come, He lets me go and pitches me forward; I grab desperately for the edge of the tub and cling to it. If I fell face-first into the water, I wonder if He'd bother stopping, or would He just keep fucking me until I drowned. I don't have too much time to think about that because at this angle, He's found my prostate and suddenly I'm blinded by the white heat that is spreading through my body from my groin. I grind my teeth as I lose control, the ecstasy of coming again tempered by the knowledge that He hasn't given me the green light. My body stiffens involuntarily. He's still pounding me with abandon when He whispers in my ear, "You naughty dog, you came." I bow my head in shame, but He licks my ear soothingly. "It's okay, Jounouchi."
I gulp hard and once again my head is spinning. In all of the transactions we've had here at the teahouse, He's never once called me by my name. I try to make sense of this new development as I feel His rhythm change. He comes again, I think for the fourth or fifth time this evening, and then collapses on top of me.
After a few moments, He slips out of the tub. I remain there laying motionless, still frightened that I will be punished for my indiscretion. I listen to the rustling of the towel that He uses to dry Himself off, hear Him rub it through His hair. These are such intimate actions, and yet there is no affection in what we share, what He does to me. But then again, I cannot picture Him in any other way. The only time I've ever seen any hint of His humanity, anything besides His snide remarks and insults, is in His dealings with Mokuba. As my thoughts turn to the young teen, I wonder what he would think if he knew what his big brother was doing with me.
Thinking about Mokuba is dangerous, because it reminds me of my old friends. I have to stop myself from dwelling on them and the past. When I do, it only reminds me of how hopelessly lost I've become. I thought that this would only be temporary, but I know better now. As long as I'm a moneymaker they will keep me here, and the deck is stacked-I'll never be able to earn enough to pay back what my old man owes with interest. And when I'm no longer any use to them, his creditors, well let's just say that I have my own exit planned for that occasion. I close my eyes and concentrate on the soothing effect the water has on my tired mind and body.
I must have fallen asleep, because I wake up sputtering water.
"You really are a silly mutt. Let the water out and come out of there now." He laughs mirthlessly. He envelops me in a soft bath towel and dries my body thoroughly. He wraps the towel around me tightly and steps away. I can't see where He's gone off to, but I hear the flip-flop of His slippered feet as He returns. "Here, put this on. I want you to wear this the next time I see you."
I glance up at what He is holding in front of me, a golden silk kimono. I know without touching it that it is probably the softest thing I've ever owned. But I don't own it, He does, I think darkly. He unfurls it and waits for me expectantly. I let the towel drop and allow him to dress me-His little china doll. He fusses with the opening for a moment, and then ties the sash snugly around my waist. It is whisper-soft against my skin. I hear Him climb into the huge bed and stand there, not knowing what He wants from me. "Are you just going to stand there all night?" He asks, some annoyance evident in His voice.
I stand still, afraid to say anything; He hasn't given me permission to speak. I'm so close to escaping this evening without so much as committing an infraction-well there was the tub incident-that I can taste it. After a few moments of feeling His eyes burn through me, He sighs audibly then says simply, "Come to bed." I drop to all fours, but before I can crawl, He hisses, "Not on your knees, baka, you'll destroy the kimono." I get up, I imagine gracelessly, and make my way to the bed. He lifts the covers to let me in, and then spoons my body with His, His arms wrapping around me possessively.
I listen to His breathing even out as He falls asleep, and ponder the fundamental shift in our relationship that has occurred tonight, before drifting off to sleep myself.
~TBC~
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love dog