"I can save you."

It was a soft whisper in his ear. He stood, naked, with his wrists shackled high above his head, his arms aching and his face felt dirty with tears. Another crack from the whip, he winced but made not a sound.

"All I ask is for you to belong to me, to commit to me, you don't have to die," Mika Ver Leth murmured, circling Kurda once more, whip in hand, waiting for the sting of the last lash to fade before giving out a new one.

"I will never give myself to you," Kurda growled. Mika brought the whip down with amazing accuracy right on Kurda's spine.

"Only you can stop the pain, Kurda," Mika hissed.

"Never!" Kurda replied, through gritted teeth. Mika wandered around to be in Kurda's line of vision, he smiled at the blond vampire with menace.

"It's your choice, Kurda," he laughed, softly. He took the man's chin in one hand and gripped hard, bringing Kurda's eyes up to meet his own. "Choose me... or the stakes."

A look of determination came into Kurda's otherwise defeated eyes and he spat into Mika's face with contempt.

"That's my choice," he said, quietly.

"So you choose death, Kurda? So be it, but don't believe that it will stop me claiming you before you die."

Kurda tried to get his breathing under control, to stop his heart pounding so violently. Mika could smell his fear, he enjoyed it, Kurda was completely at his mercy and they both knew it.

"Mika... please... don't do his," Kurda said, trying to keep his trembling voice form shaking. Mika reached out and grasped Kurda by the hips, digging his long, sharp nails into Kurda's flesh.

"Beg me not to," Mika hissed, his mouth mere millimetres from Kurda's ear. Kurda tried to pull away but couldn't, a combination of his bonds and Mika's cruel grip restricted his movement to near to none. Kurda struggled to raise his head defiantly, refusing to beg. Mika dug his nails in harder, breaking the skin, Kurda bit his lip to stop himself from making a noise. Mika leaned in and rested his front teeth on Kurda's neck, he began to bite down until Kurda cried out.

"Stop it Mika!" he growled.

"Beg," Mika insisted, bringing his bottom jaw up to bite with his full strength and fasten his entire mouth around Kurda's flesh. Kurda let out a long, low sound of pain but yet still refused to plead for Mika's mercy. Mika drew blood and was forced to unlock his jaws to spit the toxic vampire blood onto the ground.

Mika stepped back and considered once again using the whip, then decided against it. To him Kurda's body was like a fresh piece of pure, paper. He and he alone was making a mark on it, he alone had that power, and he wanted to make as many different marks on Kurda as possible, extract as many different cries, as many different elements of pain. For the moment Kurda was his toy, his play thing, he belonged to him and him alone to do with what he wanted, whatever he wanted. The power of this was the main appeal to Mika, but Kurda's beautiful body, temptation at its strongest, the platinum hair, the sea deep eyes, the delictately muscled figure that trembled at his touch, it was the most delicious present he could have been given. He longed to make Kurda scream, scream his name, beg for mercy, and, when he did, Mika would lap up the cries but never cease. He wouldn't stop until the urge to claim the traitor for his own, to move within him, to own his entire being, to posess completely his fragile frame, was fulfilled. As Mika stood back, watching Kurda, running his eyes over every inch of the exposed creature, an uncontrollable longing, a throbbing of desire spread throughout his body and then settled as a pressure in need of release that took temporary residence in his crotch. This, added to the wild fury of not getting his won way, of being defied by the blond vampire, caused him to do what he did next. Making a snap decision he suddenly lunged forward and took Kurda's face in his hands, he pulled Kurda's chin up and forced his tongue down his throat, kissing him so roughly and with such sudden force that Kurda gagged. Kurda was unable to pull away. Mika moved his hands down to caress Kurda's quivering frame, the blond's petrified state doing nothing but arouse him furthur. Kurda tried to protest but the lips locked around his stole away his desperate please. Mika wanted Kurda below him, he wanted him on the floor, at his feet. The Prince pulled furiously at Kurda's arms, momentarily blinded by want and lust. He forced himself to pull away from the oh-so-satisfying kiss. Kurda cried out in pain as, in a whirl of almost inhuman passion, Mika gave one, last, violent tug on Kurda's arms. There was an almost deafening snapping sound,Kurda released a shocked gasp and Mika stopped dead. Kurda's hand hung limply from the ropes, attached to a horribly twisted and broken wrist. It took a while for Mika to pull himself together and regain his senses, he hadn't snapped Kurda's wrist intentionally but, now that he saw how weak with pain Kurda had become he couldn't help but feel that the 'accident' had worked in his favour.

Mika took a knife from the folds of his long, black cloak and sawed at the first rope that bound Kurda to the low ceiling. Kurda's legs were too weak to support him, and as Mika severed the rope of his unfractured wrist he was left to dangle by the broken joint, his whole weight resting on it. The pain caused him to retch, audible words were impossible, Mika smiled. Kurda fell to the floor as Mika cut the second rope. He was like a wolf cornering his prey. Kurda lay on the coldstone floor, unable to move, he was unable to swallow the sobs that caused his entire body to shake so violently he could barely breathe. Mika smoothly unwrapped his cloak from his shoulders with the air of a man who was positive he was going to get exactly what he wanted. He then went on to pull off the belt around his waist. He looked at the belt fondly for a moment, and then suddenly lashed out at Kurda with it, buckle first. It hit Kurda in the face, scratching a deep line from above his eyelid to nearly the corner of his mouth. Blood dribbled down Kurda's face like ominous tears. Mika licked his lips and then advanced, Kurda was on his back, he tried to shuffle away from Mika but his strength had long since deserted him and the situation was as hopeless as any he had ever been in. He cried sofly as Mika came to stand next to him and then crouched slowly, forcing Kurda down by his shoulders and straddling him,like a hawk coming in for the kill. Kurda's heart raced, his breaths came in short sharp gasps, fear, agony, defeat colliding and shocking him into a wreck of creature, unable to do anything but cry and feel the pain of it all as Mika pushed him down harder. The older vampire bowed his head and took one of Kurda's nipples between his teeth, biting down hard with no mercy. He absorbed the scream that tore from Kurda's throat and began shaking with anticipation. Mika needed release and he needed it now! He could wait no longer, temptation was too much, the time for play was over. Mika tugged his jeans down so they fell about his ankles and then did the same with the boxers that rubbed uncomfortably against his throbbing erection. The cool air caused him to have to supress a moan, his breathing quickened, the lust and blind passion claimed him once more. He turned Kurda over onto his stomach, Kurda couldn't even struggle. To Kurda, at that moment, hope was nothing more than fairy story, it didn't exist anymore, if, indeed, it ever had. With no care and showing no mercy Mika forced himself into Kurda, he was vicious in his actions, meeting a lot of resistance. Kurda's muscles tensed automatically making it all the worse, he screamed as pain blossomed inside him and his body threatened to shut down. Mika began to thrust back and forth, a low moan escaped his throat but with Kurda in such a pitiful state it hardly felt embarassing in comparison. Kurda was wriggling beneath him, writhing in agony, trying to pull away from the Prince, but Mika took hold of fistfuls of Kurda's hair to keep him from getting away. Kurda's struggling was doing nothing but satisfying Mika's lust more, the movements causing him to moan louder and thrust harder and faster than before. And as Kurda's vision began to blur and he started to pass out Mika reached his peak and release came. Kurda's mouth fell open in shocked, excrutiated silence, beads of saliva escaped his mouth and dribbled down his chin. Mika's head lolled back as he came inside Kurda and a satisfied smile appeared on his lips. As Mika withdrew, Kurda fell forward, shuddering.

"And still you refuse to beg?" Mika said with amusement as he stood and redressed properly. He waited for Kurda to use his last breaths pleading, but the only reply he got was

"Yes I do."

When the Prince turned back to the traitor, he was unconscious.