Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho, nor do I make any profit from my fanworks.
WARNINGS: NSFW, dubcon, caning, abuse, violence, explicit content
I.
Karasu fell in love with him in his very first fight.
Toguro had forced the entire team to come take a look at this year's special guest team. Ani threw a temper tantrum, and Karasu had equally little interest in viewing the human team, but Toguro forced them along anyway.
The crow sneered through the first fight, and spent much of it examining his nails and wrinkling his nose at the repugnant crowds of lower-class demons. The fighter was a lanky, adolescent human child of seemingly little intelligence. Karasu only briefly turned his attention to the arena when he anticipated a gory, splattering death. When that death failed to occur, he lost interest once more.
But the second fighter...
He was worth noticing.
While his friend had been caught in the awkward, ungraceful adolescent stage, this red-haired boy was the paradigm of youth and beauty. He was tall and graceful, lean and lovely. He carried himself like a demon but was fragile like a human. Karasu wanted to see him up close- needed to see him up close. Karasu watched that fight with burning intensity. He grinned when the boy moved in for the culling blow and felt rocked to his core when the fight turned around and his little darling unresistingly took a beating from someone who was not him. Possessive desire coursed through him, and he would have killed Roto there on the stage for having the audacity to touch what was his, had Toguro not been there to stop him. But, oh, the defiant look on the boy's face as Roto abused him, his tense shoulders and perfect posture, Karasu was enthralled. When the battle shifted once more and the sweet little redhead devastated his opponent with some vicious plant, Karasu was grinning like a mad man below his mask.
Beauty, cruelty, and wit- what a perfect combination.
"Kurama," He let the name roll off his tongue.
It was delicious.
Kurama closed the bathroom door behind him in Team Urameshi's apartment and sighed as he slumped against the white-pained wood. Kuwabara and Yusuke were bickering in the other room, and the occasional loud thumps suggested that they might also be wrestling. Hiei and the masked fighter had gone somewhere, and Kurama strongly suspected that Hiei's arm was the reason behind his disappearance. The masked fighter, though...that man was a mystery to him and he didn't feel entirely comfortable with a stranger on the team. Still, there was nothing to be done for it, they needed a fifth fighter.
Putting his suspicions aside for the moment, he bent down to open the cabinet under the sink and retrieve his medical kit. Admittedly, he hadn't expected to need it so soon, and though the wound on his face was inconsequential, Roto had cut deep enough to scar him in his tantrum. Kurama was both a proud and unfortunately vain creature, and would not allow himself to be scared by someone as low-class and despicable as Roto. He possessed a salve that would help heal his wound cleanly and save him the trouble of explaining the X to his mother.
The medical kit was a silver box that he had retrieved from one of his dens before the tournament. The lid of the box opened out to reveal sliding silver shelves and drawers, and the whole thing was sealed with several spell locks. It was filled with Youko's medicines, and some of his more useful seeds. Kurama set it on the porcelain toilet and rummaged around in the bottom compartment until he found the glass vial he was looking for.
The vial was filled with a purple cream that he rubbed into the cut, and then turned to the bathroom mirror above the sink to watch it heal. Before his eyes, the cut mended until only smooth white skin remained. He rubbed a hand over his cheek to make sure that the cream had done its work fully, and was pleased when he could not even feel where the mark had been. The wind blew outside as he leaned down to the sink to wash his face of sweat and grime, and the glass window rattled.
Kurama raised his head from the sink and wiped his face off with the towel. He was preparing to leave the bathroom when he noticed the note taped to the window.
It was a simple white sheet of paper fluttering in the wind, black ink scrawled by hand across the length. Room 514, it read, Or someone your care for will die.
Had Kurama still possessed his fox form, his hackles would have raised instinctively. Green eyes narrowed in irritation and suspicion. Was it possible that his mother would be threatened twice in one day? Was that the loved one meant? Perhaps some viewers of the match today had been inspired by Roto's cheap trick and were hoping it would work better for them. It could also be nothing at all, merely a trick meant to harass him. But it was entirely too serious for Kurama to dismiss it as a hoax.
Room 514, he wondered. The fifth floor was the expensive rooms, the penthouses. Every room in the hotel was meant to house millionaires, but the top floor was for the especially important VIP's. Was it possible that he was being threatened by a human? A human would be unable to scale to a second story window, but certainly they could hire a demon to do it.
Unwilling to take any chances with the lives of his family, Kurama stocked his hair was the appropriate seeds in case of battle, and decided to go investigate.
"At least I can wake up from my naps. Maybe we should be called Team Kuwabara instead of Team Urameshi!" Kuwabara yelled in the sitting room. He was standing above Yusuke, who was faking nonchalance by kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and settling into the couch cushions.
"Oh, yeah? Sure, it has a real ring to it," Yusuke mocked, further antagonizing Kuwabara.
Kurama smiled wearily as he passed through the room.
"Hey, foxboy, where ya going?" Yusuke called as Kurama opened the front door. He and Kuwabara stopped their bickering for a moment to focus their attention on him.
"Nowhere," Kurama replied calmly, forbidding his voice to betray his distress. "I am simply taking a walk around the hotel. You two should get out of the room, as well. Fresh air would be good for you."
Like any teenage boys they wrinkled their noses at the thought of something being good for them.
"No thanks, they've got snacks in here," Kuwabara retorted and Yusuke waved a dismissive hand.
"I think I'll pass. Have fun on your walk," He sighed.
To further assure them he was only going on a walk, Kurama smiled before shutting the door behind him. He was thankful that only the two boys had been in the room, someone more perceptive would have taken more energy to fool.
Kurama walked down the hall to the elevator and stood waiting until it reached his floor. He pretended not to notice the two wealthy human women who checked out his ass as they passed by. It irked him, but otherwise did no harm. The elevator doors slid open and four men in business suits hustled out, whispering as they passed him. No matter, Kurama was pleased to have the elevator to himself. The elevator ride did not give him as much time to plan as he would have liked, but it was eager to have this confrontation over with regardless.
Signs directed him to take a left turn on the top floor, and he found room 514 tucked into a corner at the end of the hall. This area stank of powerful youki and Kurama was beginning to fear that there was more to this threat than he had assumed.
He felt Toguro's youki in this hallway, as well as several prints he did not recognize. It did not bode well. Stiff with dread, Kurama knocked on the door and a tall man in a black coat opened it.
This man was too tall and too strong to be human, and Kurama feared the power he sensed from him. The stranger was nearly entirely concealed by his black clothing, but Kurama could see that he was fit and muscular. With the exception of his pale white hands, the only part of the man exposed was the upper half of his face. Purple eyes peered at him from over a slight pair of glasses attached to the metal mask, and Kurama's breath stuttered.
He knew madness when he saw it.
"Who are you?" He barked, willing his indignation to override his fear. "What is the meaning of this?"
Karasu's eyes danced with glee, turning red above his mask. He had his pet within his possession now.
"Come in, Kurama," He practically purred, opening his apartment door wider and stepping aside.
"I would prefer to stay out here," Kurama declined.
Karasu frowned slightly, but decided that this defiance could be dismissed. The boy would be obeying him soon enough.
In the instant that Kurama blinked, Karasu vanished and Kurama's hand immediately darted for his rose. He could not sense him anywhere. He glanced up quickly to be sure that his enemy was not above him and then slowly backed away from the door.
He backed into a solid body and two long arms locked around him. A chuckle resounded from behind him, and he struggled furiously to wrench the arms off of him. The man was too strong, however, and Kurama writhed like a cat in a bag, hoping to twist out of his grip.
"I am Karasu," the man holding him leaned down to whisper in his ear. His long black hair fell over Kurama's shoulder and his warm breath tickled the fox's neck. "Have you heard of me?"
"From Team Toguro," Kurama realized with a start. His mind was wiped blank by panic, and he fought to regain his self-control. When rationality ruled once again, Kurama cleared his throat and said "Release me. Why did you call me here?"
He could feel the immensity of Karasu's youki, and unwelcome feelings of helplessness swept him when he realized that Karasu was far too strong for him to fight.
Humming to himself pleasantly, Karasu ignored Kurama's question and allowed his hands to acquaint himself with the lovely little body pressed against his chest. While one arm held Kurama in place, the other went exploring. His hand danced up the side of Kurama's thigh, groping the soft flesh and firm muscles beneath the boy's silk pants. Kurama bucked out of surprise and began his struggles anew. He stomped on Karasu's foot, expertly placing his heel into Karasu's instep, but the crow was unfazed. His mind was completely enthralled by the majesty and beauty of the thing under his hands.
Karasu's hands moved up from Kurama's thigh, teasingly darting in towards the center of his legs and then pulled back to grasp his ass firmly. It was tight and firm, and the muscles flexed pleasingly under his hands as Kurama gasped and tried to pull away. He felt them flex and relax in his hands as Kurama jerked and twisted.
"Stop!" Kurama ordered, sounding more frantic than he would have liked. He no longer had to wonder about Karasu's motives, but he still wondered about the wellbeing of his loved ones.
"I will not," Karasu murmured, his hand still resting comfortably on Kurama's rear. "And you will submit to me, darling."
"Never," Kurama hissed, freshly insulted as he tried to turn in Karasu's hands and at least be face-to-face with his attacker.
"There is a boy on your team that you are very fond of," Karasu stated casually and Kurama's blood ran cold. He felt a heavy weight settle into his chest, squeezing down on his heart and lungs and making him breathless. "The one who saved your life."
Karasu rested his chin on Kurama's shoulder so he was closed enough to drink in his precious pet's scent and thoughtfully examine his hair.
"H-how do you know about that?" Kurama swallowed nervously. He was unsettled that a demon he knew nothing about seemed to have a wealth of knowledge of his personal life.
"Your hair is damaged, Kurama," Karasu scolded, threading his fingers through soft red locks. "I am disappointed. You should take better care of yourself, but I forget that human bodies can be so frail."
"I asked you a question!"
"There are people at this tournament who know much about you, Kurama. It was only a matter of finding them," Karasu said, sliding his hand back around to Kurama's front. What he meant, of course, was that Sakyo had run a detailed investigation of all of the guest fighters before their arrival. Karasu merely had to trade him a favor for the information he needed.
His bony fingers ran up and down over Kurama's chest, feeling his torso beneath his clothing. The fox's clothing was beginning to irritate Karasu. He was entirely too covered, and more of that beautiful flesh needed to be exposed to the air, but most importantly, to Karasu.
"You will submit to me, whenever I want, for as long as I want, and your dear teammate will remain alive. Refuse me, and I will kill him, and most likely the others as well," Karasu continued, his voice growing excited with thought of depravity and forced submission.
"Toguro wouldn't allow it," Kurama said, praying that what he said was true.
Karasu's fingers stopped stroking his chest and Karasu raised his head slightly, eyes narrowing, before ripping through Kurama's clothes and digging his nails into the tender flesh of his chest. Kurama cried out as the blood pooled and spilled and his mind registered the stabbing pain. To further torment him, Karasu dragged his fingers down and left long gouges in his chest. Blood poured from the five marks and stained Kurama's shirt and pants. Karasu's hand was dripping with the sweet red blood.
"What makes you think I take orders from Toguro?" Karasu hissed, rage mounting. His eyes flashed red as he left his claws inside of Kurama and listened to him whimper.
"A guess," Kurama gasped, seizing Karasu's wrist and fighting to pull the dangerous hand out of him and away from his vital organs.
Karasu twisted his hand and Kurama screamed, the strength is his arms giving for a moment while his mind went blank with pain.
Momentarily abated, Karasu removed his hand and flipped Kurama around, pressing him into the wall next to the room door. He licked the blood from the lines of his hand as Kurama panted.
"Will you comply?" Karasu asked, too calmly. Kurama recognized his madness and his strength, and though he knew the situation was dire, he could not hand himself over without a fight.
His fingers curled up to the hidden pocket in his sleeve, hoping to grasp the seeds he had hidden there. His pride forced him to try, though he knew that Karasu was too much for him like this.
The crow noticed the movement of Kurama's hand and grabbed his wrist, yanking it up above his head until he had pulled Kurama off his feet. His grip tightened on Kurama's wrist until the bone creaked and protested the pressure. Kurama grit his teeth from the pain.
"You test my patience, little fox. Do we have an agreement, or not?"
Kurama hesitated, and Karasu twisted Kurama's wrist until the boy screamed from the pain.
"Yes," He acquiesced, closing his eyes and drawing into himself in shame.
Karasu's wicked grin spread out across his face, hidden beneath his mask. He lowered Kurama back to his feet, but did not release his wrist.
"And one more thing, lovely," Karasu cackled, leaning in until Kurama was breathing in the metal tang of his mask. "You will not die until I give you permission, and you will not let anyone but myself kill you. Understood?"
Kurama was silent and Karasu's grin diminished.
"Understood?" He repeated, more forcefully. His violent temper threatening to overwhelm him and Kurama sensed the danger.
"Understood," He said, green eyes hard with hatred.
Shivering with glee and suppressed lust, Karasu began to laugh. It rang through the hallway and reverberated through Kurama, full of insanity and malice.
Karasu delighted in the defiant look on the fox's face, so much like his expression during his match today. The emotion was wiped from his beautiful face but for the anger and hatred in his eyes. Karasu unstrapped his mask and pressed it into Kurama's hands.
"Hold this for me, pet, and be careful not to damage it," He ordered.
Kurama's jaw tightened in rage but he did not protest. He held Karasu's mask, wishing to crack it between his hands. But he knew better than to antagonize this demon before he had any understanding of his ability.
Enchanted, Karasu leaned in and licked the fox's cheek, causing him to jerk in open disgust. Karasu did not mind, he was amused by his petty defiance's, and his pet tasted delicious. Like succulent, young human flesh. He wanted to taste his mouth as well, and turned Kurama's head towards him.
"Open up, pretty," The crow cooed, but Kurama neither opened his mouth nor let his expression waver. In fact, his jaw clenched tighter and Kurama's eyes challenged Karasu to do his worst.
Finding this determination an obstacle to his excitement, Karasu grabbed the joints of Kurama's jaw and forced his mouth open. He whispered against his skin "I will overlook this disobedience, as you're adjusting to your new position. Do not count on my goodwill to last, my dear little fox. Now, keep your mouth open and let me taste you."
To test his pet's obedience, Karasu released the hinges of his jaw and was thrilled to see that Kurama's mouth remained open. His eyes, however, grew harder and colder as he glared at Karasu.
"Good boy. I'm glad to see you adapting to your place," Karasu chuckled, and Kurama's expression twitched, briefly degenerating into one of absolute fury before returning to his previous enigmatic and disdainful countenance. He still held his mouth open for the beast.
Licking his lips in anticipation, Karasu leaned down to claim the open mouth. The kiss started slow, repugnantly intimate and adoring, before a frenzy overtook Karasu and it became vile. Karasu seized Kurama's lower lip between his teeth bit into it. The sound of Kurama fighting back a cry of pain went straight to his cock as he got drunk off of the smaller fighter's taste and scent.
It was violating. It was disrespectful. It was violent. Kurama's hands tightened on Karasu's mask, threatening to crack it as Karasu raped his mouth. He did not participate in the kiss and simply allowed the bastard to have his mouth. His shoulder shook in humiliation and rage as he waited the thing out. How had he let this happened? Surely he was wise enough to think of a way to fight back, to reclaim his free will. The crow would not be satisfied with just a kiss, Kurama knew that. While he had to protect Yusuke, he would not willing get on his back for this monster. There had to be some option that he overlooked. It was far too early to panic or admit defeat. He just was not thinking well enough.
The pain was sharper than he thought it would be when Karasu bit another hole in his lip and Kurama grunted. He dropped the mask on the floor as his temper snapped and pushed Karasu away from him.
When Karasu drew back from the dominating, possessive kiss, he licked his lips once more. Kurama's blood had been smeared on them, and his violet eyes locked on the red trickle dripping down Kurama's white chin. He forced Kurama's hand to the side so that they would not interfere as he lapped it up in long, slow licks. He felt the vibrations of Kurama shaking beneath him, and smiled to himself as Kurama struggled to get his hands free.
Then, Karasu turned his attention to his mask. It was made to withstand even great explosions, so of course it was not damaged from a slight fall, but his lovely had still disobeyed him.
In his mind, Karasu had already constructed a great fantasy of just what he wanted to do with the fox and Kurama could not be allowed to disrupt any part of it. This disrespect of his could no longer be allowed.
The crow tsked his tongue as he reached down to scoop up his mask. "Kurama," He purred the name in a way that made Kurama shiver. It was full of condescension and lust. "You act as though you want me to kill your dear friend. I gave you a very clear order that you disobeyed, lovely. I heard rumors that you were clever; I'm disappointed to see that they're not true."
He refused to rise to the bait. He would not play into this bastard's hands! He remained silent and tight-lipped as Karasu put the mask in one of the pockets of his coat.
"Do you think that this behavior is acceptable, pet?"
When it became clear that Karasu was expecting an answer, Kurama snarled.
"I think you're a deranged rapist," He spat the words like acid, twisting his pretty face into a grimace. His frustration was allowed a momentary outlet and it would have driven him insane not to take it.
Karasu's eyes hardened and he listened to Kurama's response.
"Clearly you need training," Karasu decided, speaking mostly to himself. Kurama snarled again, insulted beyond words for being treated like some collared pup.
Karasu seized Kurama's arm and hauled him into the hotel room, closing the door behind them with his foot. Kurama did a quick scan of the room as Karasu tugged him along. He felt no other presences here.
"Where is the rest of your team?" Kurama dared to ask and Karasu wrenched his arm.
"Victors do not have to share a room." Unbeknownst to Kurama, Karasu's upper lip curled at the idea of sharing a living space with either of the Toguros.
Had the situation been different, Kurama might have admired this room. It was more of a small apartment than a mere hotel room. It had a nearly full-functional kitchen and a large window view of the beach on Hanging Neck island. A small TV room was separated from the bedroom by a sliding door and the bathroom was spacious and lavish. There was even a small breakfast nook across from the kitchen. As it was, this room was the place of his captivity and he sneered at the unnecessary pretentiousness of it.
Karasu dragged him into the bedroom and threw Kurama to his knees. When the boy attempted to stand, Karasu fisted a hand in his vibrant red hair and forced him back into the kneeling position. Kurama growled, but stayed put.
Karasu sat on the bed across from him, legs splayed wide in a primal show of male dominance. He leaned down to rest his arms on his knees and get a better look at his pet.
"Remind me of our agreement, Kurama," He prompted, examining his nails and sucking the blood out from beneath them as though he could care less what Kurama had to say.
Kurama recognized the show for what it was, a petty power display, and it rankled him. After a moment of stubborn silence, he sighed.
"If I..." His tongue rebelled against the words his mind was supplying, proving more loyalty to his pride than his sense. Kurama grimaced and began again. "If I submit to you, you will spare Yusuke's life."
"Submit to me when?" Karasu prompted, wickedly pleased with the mixture of shame and rage in the fox's eyes.
Kurama's hands fisted in the carpet, but he forced himself to appease the deranged rapist. For Yusuke.
"Whenever you want,"
"For how long?"
"As long as you want," Kurama found that he was unable to meet the crow's twinkling eyes as he was being forced to recite words of submission. He focused on a place on the back wall, instead. Karasu noticed this and decided that it would not be allowed.
"Look at me, darling," He commanded, voice turning serious. "What will happen if you refuse me?"
Kurama ground his teeth as he brought his eyes to Karasu's. He held his chin up in defiance and snorted, unwilling to show his shame.
"You will kill Yusuke," Kurama admitted, finding that the words made him ache and broke down his anger to replace it with fear.
"Could you stop me?" Karasu could see the internal struggle within his lovely little doll, and found himself immensely amused by toying with the fox's psyche.
Kurama's shoulder began to shake again, and he longed to jump up and scratch out the crow's taunting eyes with his bare hands. But he could not, and he could not because he knew the answer to that question.
"No," He admitted, stomach heaving from the truth of it.
"Then we have an understanding," Karasu said. "This will be the only time I remind you, Kurama. Continue to defy me, and there will be consequences." In truth, Karasu was bluffing. Toguro would never allow him to kill Urameshi, or any other member of Team Urameshi, before their battle. However, as long as the fox did not know that, the power was with Karasu.
Kurama clenched his fists and glared at his captor with immense intensity. As the saying goes if looks could kill, Karasu would have melted under the fervor of Kurama's hatred.
Looks could not kill, however, and Karasu rather enjoyed that one. He rose from the bed and cupped Kurama's face within his hands. Kurama did not give him the pleasure of a reaction and so Karasu helped himself to another kiss. Kurama hated himself for opening his mouth for Karasu, but he thought of Yusuke to justify. He would not let Yusuke be harmed, not after the boy had saved his life.
Karasu's violent kiss reopened the wounds that had healed on Kurama's lips, and so he didn't bother to reheal them until Karasu was done. He focused his energy on the gashes in his chest instead and they had mostly healed when Karasu was satisfied.
"You do have to be punished for your early transgressions, though," Karasu mused, once again licking Kurama's blood from his red lips.
Kurama numbed himself, completely shut down his emotion in order to let his practicality rule as he awaited punishment. He did not move as Karasu crossed to a closet in the bedroom, but he allowed his eyes to follow the dark demon's form. He nearly jumped up when Karasu pulled a rattan cane out of the closet, and his eyes widened in fright.
"No!" He cried out, crawling backwards in sheer self-preserving instinct. Karasu smiled wickedly and was on top of him in a moment. Kurama shouted and strived to slip through he legs and reach the open sliding door. Karasu simply grabbed the boy's hair again and pulled him back to the bed roughly. Kurama continued to kick as Karasu pulled him along, holding his hands to the top of his head to take some pressure off his hair. He breathed in deeply, forcing himself back to discipline. He could handle this. He had taken much worse throughout his life.
"This, love, is why you need training. Normally, I would punish you with my power, but I don't want to give that up before our match."
"Our match?" Kurama repeated in disbelief, eyes on the cane instead of Karasu.
"Yes. When I will kill you," Karasu spoke to him as though he were a small child, too slowly, too proudly. "You see, Kurama, when I like something I like to take it away."
Kurama growled, showing his teeth like an animal. His sense of survival screamed at him to get out of there, to damn the consequences. If he panicked, however, the results would undoubtedly be unfavorable. He had to play along until he had devised a battle plan.
"Take your punishment with grace, now. You did earn it after all. Take off your clothes and bend over the bed."
Kurama rose, and gritting his teeth, shed his clothing. He tried to ignore the eyes that violated him and drank in his skin. He could almost feel them physically raking over him as he lost more and more of his clothing.
He started with removing the blood-stained tunic and let it fall to the carpet. His fingers paused above the waistband of his white pants, but with a fortifying breath, he slid them down over his hips and thighs until he could kick them off with his slippers. His briefs were his last protection before he was bare and vulnerable before this nightmare, and he rushed through removing them before he could lose his will. He shuddered when he stood nude before the other demon, longing to cover himself from prying purple eyes. He told himself he was only shivering because of the cold.
He was glorious. He was everything Karasu expected from such a beauty. His smooth skin was flawless except for the pink puckered lines left on his torso. Even those, though, were fading quickly. He was built like a dancer, strength concealed under a polished and slim exterior. The small of his back was a tantalizing curve, rising into the shapely mounds of the boy's ass. His pretty little cock and balls were nestled into a patch of soft, red hair, and Karasu drank him in. His lovely red hair fell over his shoulders, striking out boldly against his white skin while still complimenting his sharp green eyes. The artists of old would have been hard-pressed to draw, paint, or sculpt something as lovely as Kurama.
Ganymede, Adonis, Antonius, Kurama, his name belonged among those of the beautiful, tragic youths. Karasu would happily send him to join them in the spirit world.
His lust mixed with his blood lust to form such a potent mix that Karasu could hardly contain himself. He forced Kurama down over the bed, eliciting a little squeak from him. The cane cracked down a moment after and Kurama hid his face in the blanket of the bed to suppress his scream. A dark red welt immediately rose on his flesh, and Karasu wasted no time in bringing the cane down again. All of it fed Karasu's arousal, and he could already feel his erection straining against his too tight pants.
"Your place is on your back beneath me, little slut!"
The cane came down again and Kurama squirmed, biting the comforter to muffle his sounds of pain. His hands fisted in the blanket so hard that he pulled the sheets out of their neat tuck under the mattress. In his excitement, Karasu was not controlling his strength and the blows jarred Kurama to his bones.
"Say it," Karasu demanded, and Kurama slowly released the blanket, and turned so that Karasu would be able to hear his voice. The pain racked him and he could not smoothly force the words from his aggravated throat.
"Y-your place is on your b-back beneath me," Kurama stuttered out, and the cane came down again. His scream split through the room and he winced in pain, instinctively curling away from Karasu.
When he failed to immediately correct his error, the cane struck the sensitive skin on his inner thigh and Kurama's nails ripped through the comforter, nearly tearing them from their beds, as he screamed.
"My..." the words came out scratchy and between pants as Kurama struggled to regain his breath. "Place is on my back..." He winced from the humiliation of the words, "beneath you."
Pleased beyond words, Karasu threw the cane to the side of the room, and unbuttoned his pants. He untucked himself carefully and stroked his own cock absent-mindedly as he observed the delectable whore beneath him.
Kurama was still bent over the bed, panting and quaking. His ass was striped with purple-red welts that would make sitting and walking uncomfortable for the next few days. The one on his thigh, a finger's length below his balls was the most pleasing to Karasu.
Karasu shed his coat, letting it fall beside Kurama's torn, blood-stained tunic, and then slid his pants down until he could kick them off. He didn't care much where they landed.
Without giving Kurama time to recover, Karasu grabbed his slim hips and rolled him up onto the bed, flat on his back. Kurama turned his face away as Karasu glided into place between his legs. The crow worked his hands under both of Kurama's knees and then lifted them up and to the side, spreading his legs. Kurama submitted silently, vowing revenge in a thousand different ways, each more gruesome and sadistic than the last.
Karasu paused to appreciate the sight of the obviously reluctant fox spread like a feast beneath him. The boy was still flaccid, though, and that was unacceptable to Karasu. To him, sexual dominance must be total and complete. In his twisted version of love, it was necessary that Kurama experience pleasure whether he wanted it or not.
Karasu's white hands wrapped around Kurama's cock and stroked it in uncharacteristic tenderness. Kurama winced and grunted in irritation, but his body reacted despite his unwillingness. When Karasu noticed his reaction, the crow's grin widened and he leaned down to blow warm breath on Kurama's dick. Kurama's hands fisted tighter in the blanket and he bit his lower lip to stifle his moans. He resented Karasu for forcing these confused feelings on him and swore once more that the demon above him would suffer for this.
Pleased with Kurama's responses, even more so because of the obvious turmoil in the boy, Karasu licked a warm, wet line along the underside of Kurama's cock. Kurama's breath stuttered as the tip of Karasu's inhumanly agile tongue teased his slit and wrapped around the head of his cock. He closed his eyes because he could not bear to watch himself come up and hard in Karasu's hands. He mewled as Karasu took him into his mouth.
Karasu withdrew, smacking his lips. As much as he enjoyed playing with his little fox, he was eager for greater things.
Kurama had barely registered that Karasu's mouth was gone before Karasu entered him dry. The violence caught him by surprise and he was unable to hold back the scream that Karasu's cruelty ripped out of him. It filled the room, full and pained, and the occupants of the other rooms undoubtedly heard it.
With a bruising grip on Kurama's hips, Karasu pulled him back into his thrusts. He indulged in the half-human as though he were a full demon, fast-paced and brutal. It was all Kurama could do to hang on and let his body be raped. Karasu sighed and rolled his head in sheer pleasure. Gods was he tight!
The legs of the bed scraped across the floor as the force of Karasu's thrusts. Kurama's whimpers rose in pitch as Karasu grew more frantic and he softened a little from the monumental pain. Noticing this, Karasu changed the angle of his thrusts, sloping Kurama's hips downward.
Another scream tore through the room. This one was full of pleasure rather than pain and Kurama tossed his head back as his body shuddered. His scream tapered off into a lewd moan and Karasu grinned wickedly. Huffing with effort, Karasu bent over the little bitch and planted his hands on either side of Kurama's hands to hold his weight. When he felt the sleek red hairs under his palms, he twined Kurama's hair around his fingers and moaned in satisfaction. This was what he wanted. Over and over again, he would have this until the time came to send his beautiful toy to the afterlife.
Because of his excitement, Karasu didn't last as long as he might have another night, and he began to growl as he felt his orgasm cresting. Furiously, he pounded into Kurama relentlessly and reached between his pet's legs to jerk him.
Kurama bucked when he felt Karasu's hand on his dick and bucked helplessly. He hated himself for it, but his human body was too inexperienced to resist pleasure and Kurama did his best to ignore his shame.
Karasu's growls reached a higher pitch as he pumped his seed deep into the thing beneath him. He rode out the orgasm until he began to jerk and sighed in the aftermath. Kurama shuddered beneath him at the revolting feeling of warm cum in his ass. He grimaced in distaste and whimpered slightly.
Of course, Karasu noticed that Kurama had not come yet and set to finishing him with a single-minded determination. His hand became a blur around Kurama as he jerked him rapidly, until all Kurama could no longer feel the individual strokes only a constant friction. His mouth opened but no sound emerged as he came silently, seizing in pleasure.
Karasu licked Kurama's cum from his fingers, humming at the sweet taste. He watched his cum leak from Kurama's ass with the primal satisfaction of marking his territory.
Disgraced, Kurama took a shaky breath and crawled out from under Karasu, refusing to look at his tormenter. He tried to ignore the slickness between his thighs and the smell of blood that he knew would follow him back to his hotel room. He sat on the edge of the bed with his face turned down, dreading the moment he had to stand. He knew that he would limp, but he did not want to be further shamed in front of this enemy.
"I have a condition of my own," Kurama spoke up, face red with shame. Karasu quirked an eyebrow, still lazily licking at his finger.
"And what is that, pet?"
"After our…trysts, you must allow me to clean myself here. I will not go back to my room smelling of sex and blood."
Karasu sprawled out on the sheets, unabashed by his nakedness. The fluorescent lights of the room gleaned off his sweaty body, highlighting the ridges of his muscle. His ink black hair spread out under him, shining almost blue. His foot nudged Kurama's bare hip teasingly and the slight provocation felt like an immense insult to the fox.
"Karasu!" He whipped on his rapist, green eyes alight with rage and Karasu chuckled heartily. He was in too fine a mood to be bothered with his pet's temper.
"That will be fine, lovely," He allowed, stretching out like a house cat. "But you may only leave to clean yourself when I give you permission."
Kurama trembled in a potent mix of humiliation, indignation, and fury, but he did not argue.
Karasu was silent for a while then, thinking. When it became clear to Kurama that Karasu was not about to dismiss him, he snorted.
"Am I allowed to go clean myself?" He asked disdainfully, voice tight with sarcasm and pride.
Karasu waved a dismissive hand and reveled in post-orgasm bliss. He had many plans for the next week, and he was working to press his creativity to its fullest potential.
Kurama stood slowly, doing his best to assess his injuries. He was torn deep inside, as well as bruised badly by the cane. He did his best to maintain what was left of his dignity as he stooped to pick up his clothing and limped to the bathroom door, head held defiantly high.
Karasu found it cute.
Karasu heard the water streaming through the pipes before he heard the shower turn on and he rolled over to reach the bedside drawer. He had made many preparations this afternoon and there was a particular item that he had been holding onto for his next pet.
A small sliver anklet was contained within the drawer. It looked like the kind of trinket a young girl might wear, silver chain with a simple red bead attached. In fact, this sort of thing was far more sinister and easy enough to come by in the Makai. This would function as Kurama's collar in the absence of an actual collar.
Kurama's shower was brief and he emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. His torn clothes were back on, and the rips had been poorly knotted up by a plant.
Karasu rose with all the grace of a panther on the hunt, and the mischievous look in his eyes alarmed Kurama.
"Put this on," Karasu held the anklet out to Kurama delicately and Kurama regarded it suspiciously.
"Why? What is it?"
Bored with the fox's hesitance, Karasu knelt down as pulled Kurama's right ankle out from under him in a flash. It was too quick for Kurama to follow and he gasped as he felt himself on his back and Karasu fastened the silver chain around his ankle. Instantly, the chain tightened to sit against his flesh with no slack and the clasp disappeared.
Work done, Karasu released his ankle and stood back up.
Alarmed, Kurama reached down to rip the chain off, but the instant he gave it a tug he convulsed in pain. He bit off his groan of pain and pressed his face to the carpet until it stopped.
Karasu regarded him coldly from across the room and he picked his clothing up.
"When that anklet pulses, I am calling you here. If you keep me waiting, I can use it to inflict unimaginable amounts of pain. It can not be removed until you have died," He explained, strapping his mask back on.
Kurama ground his death and clenched his fist until even his blunt human nails drew blood.
"Are you done with me?" He growled, needing desperately to separate himself from this monster and rationalize his emotion.
Karasu hummed in thought and tipped his head as though the question was some philosophical concept worthy of deep contemplation. It was patronizing and added to Kurama's ire.
"From now on, you will speak to me respectfully, or this will go that much harder for you. You are to kneel in my presence unless I give you permission t stand, and you are not to be clothed without express permission as well. Is all of that clear?"
Kurama could have vomited from the sickening abasement, but he forced himself to answer.
"Yes,"
"Good. Then I suppose you may go for the night. I will call you when I want you tomorrow."
Kurama refused to look at the other demon as he stood and forced himself to walk straight, damn the pain. He slammed the door behind him, and Karasu chuckled.
He anticipated tomorrow, indeed.