"Maybe I should get rid of you," Muraki purred in that smooth voice of his. "Would killing you be good for you? Like when I pleasure you?" Muraki thrusted into Lyssette's body hard. Sweat dripped down Muraki's back, panting into the girl's ear. "Do you want to die with me inside you, Lyssette?" Muraki put his hands around her throat. Muraki began to choke her as he made love to her, harder and faster with every breath that escaped her. "Tell me Lissy."
"Y-Yesss.. Ma-Master Muraki.. " Lyssette gasped. This is how it was. Muraki made love to Lyssette and released into her, watching her consciousness slip away from her. He abused her beautiful body and she just took it. Lyssette obeyed every desire he had. No matter what it was.
"I'm going to unbind you," Muraki panted. "Fight me," Muraki grunted.
"B-But Master, I dont want to hurt y-" Muraki slapped her.
"You won't," Muraki let her hands out of the handcuffs and put his hands around her neck again. Lyssette clawed at his arms, her nails dragging down his flesh. "Yes, Lyssette," Muraki moaned. "Fight harder!" Lyssette pounded on his chest an Muraki squeezed her throat. Lyssette gasped for breath as she clawed his back, hard. "Harder!" Muraki demanded as he squeezed her neck so tight that her air flow was almost completely cut off. Lyssette hit Muraki across the face, digging her nails into his cheek. "Yes!" Muraki came into Lyssette just as she passed out.
When Lyssette woke up Muraki was sitting near her bed, looking over a clipboard, "I almost broke your neck that time," Muraki sighed, "Looks like I need a new toy."
"N-!" Lyssette sat up, trying to speak, but no sound came out. She touched her neck, "Vo-Ma-I. ." She could only utter tiny syllables.
"Don't try to speak," Muraki said,"My little doll, your voice is gone for now." Muraki turned away but was stopped by a hand on his coat. Lyssette had grabbed his coat. Muraki looked at her. Lyssette was crying. "My little doll, what makes you so sad?" Lyssette pulled Muraki close to her gently, pleading. She touched his face gently, crying. Her eyes were begging. "You don't want Master to get a new toy, do you?" Lyssette shook her head. Muraki kissed her lips, "No one could give me the ecstacy that you do, my little doll. No one. Even if I got a new toy. Only you can pleasure me like that." Muraki laid her back,"You've been such a good doll. Such a good girl. You need a gift." He kissed down her body. "A present." He removed her panties.
Lyssette pulled away from him, shaking her head. "No-t. . . Y-et. . ." Lyssette managed.
"And why not? Don't you enjoy my presents?" Muraki asked. Lyssette grabbed the notepad beside her bed and wrote out: 'I want to moan for you. I can't do that now. I want to wait. I know you like it better when I'm vocal.' Muraki kissed her lips,"Such a good girl." Muraki slid his fingers into her. "Enjoy this at least."
A bit later Lyssette was dressed and ready to leave. Muraki called Lyssette his 'little doll' and it was clear why. She looked like a doll. Her skin was as pale as porcelain, her features gentle and almost painted on, her eyes were a glassy, crystal blue, her black, long, Lotita curls bounced around her face. Lyssette's thin yet curvy body was incased in a dark purple lolita dress that had a built in corset with puffed, short sleeves and a knee length skirt. The dress was trimmed in black lace with a red floral embroidery near the bottem of the skirt, her long legs were covered in thigh high, black stockings and knee high black boots. In her hair was a deep purple, velvet mini top hat held on the right side of her head by a black, silk ribbon that tied beneath her chin and around her neck was a thick, black, velvet choker with a silver cross hanging from it to conceal her bruises.
"You look beautiful Lyssette," Muraki kissed her hair. Lyssette nodded her thanks. "Lets go to your rehearsal. You'll lip sync for now," Muraki led Lyssette out of the house.
Lyssette was a singer. A rather famous singer in Japan despite her not being exactly Japanese. She was Eurasian, French and Japanese. She had mostly love songs and was considered a pop singer, but she prefered to be categorized as rock due to the dark nature of her clothes and songs. Lyssette hid all of her scars and bruises, but sometimes, when on stage, depending on the theme of the concert, Lyssette would show off her injuries to convey the image of a broken doll. She was considered Guro Lolita then instead of Elegant Gothic Lolita.
Tsuzuki and Hisoka sat in the back of the concert hall that Lyssette was rehearsing at. "So, that's the girl, hm?" Hisoka asked, "The one the Count asked us to check out?"
"Yes. She's a rather successful up and coming singer," Tsuzuki replied, "But according to the Count her candle keeps extinguishing then lighting numerous times a month," Tsuzuki removed his sun glasses, "Let's find out more."
As Lyssette walked to her dressing room she noticed Tsuzuki and Hisoka. Lyssette went straight to Muraki. "What is it, Lyssette?" Muraki followed her. He saw Tsuzuki and Hisoka and a grin spread across his face. "Don't worry, my little doll. They wont hurt you," Muraki kissed her. "But I want to examine the one in black. Could you lure him in for me, little doll?" Lyssette nodded. "Good girl," Muraki kissed her hair,"Now go tend to your bruises."
Lyssette went to her dressing room. She took her choker off and touched her bruises. Hisoka watched her from the door. "You're in so much pain," Hisoka held his heart. Lyssette looked over to him. "It's not okay for him to do this to you. You shouldn't let him," Hisoka searched her mind. Master.... Master. No other name. Just Master. Lyssette shook her head. Obviously, whoever this boy was, he could read her thoughts. "Why do you let him?"
Lyssette looked at him gently. "But why do you love someone who hurts you?" Hisoka asked, sitting beside her. Lyssette tilted her head to the side innocently. "I understand that he's your world. . . But why choose a world of pain? Of suffering? Of constant injury?" Lyssette looked down, seeming to think over the question. Than she looked at him. "You'd rather feel pain than nothing at all, hm?. . I just don't understand that." Hisoka listened to her thoughts. "Feeling pain means you're still alive? That's not true. I feel pain. I feel your pain. Your pain that cuts so deep. . ." Hisoka sighed deeply, "I just don't understand. . ."
"You dont have to," Lyssette said in a strained voice, "It's just how things are."
Hisoka touched her face,"Let me show you what real love is like?" Lyssette blinked. "I mean this," Hisoka kissed the bruises on her neck gently. So warm, and so gentle, and so careful. Hisoka treated her as if she were really glass. Lyssette had never felt such gentleness in a kiss. Hisoka kissed her lips. That's when Lyssette shoved Hisoka to the floor. She shattered a vase which made security run in. All they saw was the bruises on her neck and Hisoka on the floor. That was all they needed. They tossed Hisoka out, threatening to call the poilce.