Hello everyone and thank you so much for reading my story! This is the first FanFiction I have ever written or posted and absolutely the first piece I have ever written with... mature content. I was blushing for the most part of writing it but I wanted to get over my nerves by sharing this with you so I hope you enjoy!
P.S. This in entirely based on the anime. I have not played the game or read the manga (is there even a manga?)
P.P.S. I do not own Diabolik Lovers or any of the characters involved in the story.
Chapter One
I tilted my head one way and then the other, all the while holding my own eye in the mirror before me. Did my look give it away? Were my eyes still the innocent picture like the day before? I couldn't remember. Despite my lack of vanity, I began to wish just a little that I had looked more at myself in the mirror so that I could learn to mimic my old self.
When I couldn't attain any answer from my eyes my look shifted down to my clothes. I knew it wasn't what I usually wore. For the majority of the time I had spent in the Sakamaki household I'd worn my off-the-shoulder pink sweater and my shortest shorts. Had my subconscious made me wear those!? I blushed at the idea. No. Instead I had switched to a knee length white dress with thick black tights underneath and wore a thick blue jumper over the top that fully covered my shoulders.
Despite my despair at my former self's wardrobe choices, I did let myself smile a little that I was now far more covered up and more innocent looking.
My sudden desire to change my appearance all stemmed from something Laito had told me two days previously. He'd hunted me down as usual when he had begun to lust after my blood. I'd been walking out in the house's garden, admiring the flowers when he'd suddenly appeared beside me and pushed me down into the nearest rose bush.
While I struggled with him he eventually managed to pin me down and find access to my neck where he had sucked vast quantities of my blood. However, as he drank, he whispered cruel things to me. Things like "I know you're enjoying this Bitch-chan" and "Don't struggle, you'll only make it hurt more. Oho, or perhaps you want it to hurt more? Aren't you a dirty masochist, Bitch-chan."
He'd used that strange word; Masochist. It hadn't been the first time he or one of the other brothers had used it either but in the context, I had assumed it was an insult of some kind. However, after this continued use I realised that I really should have figured out what it meant so the only thing to do was to take out my old dictionary one night, when all the boys were asleep and look up the definition.
Masochism (noun); 1. Sexual pleasure derived from humiliation – sexual gratification achieved through humiliation and physical and verbal abuse. 2. Psychological disorder – a psychological disorder in which somebody needs to be emotionally or physically abused in order to be sexually satisfied.
→ Masochist (noun); A person who achieves sexual satisfaction through verbal and physical abuse.
It took me all night to think about that definition and what it really meant. Why did the Sakamaki brothers think I was like that? Was I actually a masochist? Being only 18 and sheltered away from the world for a lot of my life by my religious father, I didn't know a lot about sexual acts. For most of my life I had believed it to be something only married people were allowed to do and only when they wanted children. I was almost embarrassed to only realise at nearly fifteen years of age that plenty of people had sex out of wedlock and they did it for the pleasure of it.
Admittedly I had been curious. What exactly happened when people had sex? What made it so desirable? Was it really as amazing as some people claimed? I had been far too shy to investigate at the time but now, at the age I was, I felt like it was something I needed to know. Apparently there was a lot about sex I didn't know, including a group of people who called themselves masochists and they got sexual pleasure from abuse. I wanted to know if that group included me.
The next day, at school I had gone to the library during one of my lunch breaks and had found a quiet corner where no one could see me reading books about sex. It would have been nice to read them at home but I was far too embarrassed to check the books out and besides, if one of the brother's found them in my room which they often entered without permission, it would become awkward to explain. The library was my safest bet. I didn't think I'd ever seen one of them there ever.
The books had been very informative from a biological standpoint and despite the fact that I was blushing the whole time I was reading, it did sate my curiosity. I didn't expect the school's library to have any explicit books about sex but after that day I at least knew how sex worked from a health-science kind of view.
That lead to me being even more curious and making the decision to get out another book from the public library in town. When I had told the brother's that I wanted to get a book out from the library they simply dismissed me, not thinking anything of it.
I was almost grateful that none of them were kind enough to offer to tag along otherwise they would have seen me wandering the bookshelves in the erotica section with my cheeks blushing crimson as I read the backs of books to see which one I thought would go into the most detail. I eventually found a book with the title The Dungeon Down Below which appeared to be about a maid working for a Lord who lived alone in a gloomy castle with a torture room in the basement. It didn't say explicitly on the back but I gathered that the torture room would become a part of the story and as I was also trying to see exactly what masochism was like, it seemed like the book I needed.
Then it was time for me to exact my plan. I'd made sure to pick out a hard cover book with a sleeve which I removed and replaced with another sleeve on a far more innocent looking book. It took it up to the counter and it worked like a charm. The librarian merely scanned the barcode on the sleeve of the book and wrote down my name. No one would ever find out that I, innocent Yui Komori, had checked a dirty book out from the library.
The book was hot. I'd gone home to begin it immediately. Sitting in my room I had felt totally absorbed in the erotica. The book talked of all the truly nasty things that the lord was doing to that poor maid but it talked so much of the pleasure she had felt. It made my legs squirm with each page.
Ayato had come in at some point near the middle of the book but he didn't even notice the book which, outwardly, didn't look like anything interesting at all. He simply pushed me onto my bed and drank from me in the usual way, with me pleading for him to stop and him ignoring my every request.
I finished the rest of the book that night and almost wanted to read it again but I didn't. I had stayed up far past my bedtime to finish it and it made me realise something. My toes had curled excitedly each time that book talked about hurting that woman and although I couldn't really hear it, I thought I could imagine the echo of the woman's moans in my ear. It made me realise that masochists really were out there and more importantly, I was one of them.
After making myself come to terms with the fact I immediately recalled each time one of the Sakamaki brothers had abused me to get blood. Despite always protesting and telling them to stop, I realised that my body had never listened to my head. The brother's may have been strong but if I had struggled enough I might have been able to get away on several occasions. Instead I had often resigned myself to it and, thinking back, it had always made me shiver when their fangs pierced my skin.
My body had been getting pleasure from their abuse without my head even realising it. That needed to change. Despite always thinking I was innocent, I couldn't deny the pounding in my head that said I should make the most of my situation and try and attain sexual pleasure from the brothers.
It certainly wasn't a terrible idea and I was actually feeling rather giddy with excitement and I figured out what I needed to do.
First thing was first; I couldn't let the vampires realise that I was truly a masochist. They may have used the word to taunt me but I didn't think any of them said it with absolute certainty. To help with that strategy I had to make myself look purer. I wanted to look more innocent. In my newfound dirty mind I suddenly found that very erotic. It wouldn't turn me on if I asked for it with sexy clothing or anything, I had to make them hunt me down and capture me like how a wolf hunts its prey.
My wardrobe change had many perks that I was happy with. The clothes looked dainty, further adding to my image of an innocent girl being wickedly abused by the attractive man. The clothing covered me up a lot more making it seem like I was trying to protect myself from the fangs of the brothers and therefore convincing them that I wasn't a masochist. And lastly, I knew the brothers would still want my blood and the only way they were going to get it was by removing my jumper or, if it was Laito who had a partiality for my legs, removing my tights. Even just the idea one of the brothers ripping off my clothing excited me. Part of me even hoped that maybe the act would stir something inside of the brothers and they would unknowingly pleasure me more with their sexual abuse.
I gave myself another hard look in the mirror. I think my eyes still looked innocent. I didn't want to look like I was enjoying it too much or it would spoil all the fun. I bit my lip while looking at my reflection and then blushed. What had happened to me? I read a few books on sex and suddenly I'm driven to make as many of the brother's hurt me as I can for my own satisfaction.
The Sakamaki brother's may not have known it but there was a pretty good arrangement in the household. They wanted to take my blood forcefully and I didn't want to stop them. I had never felt so excited to begin my day.
