Staring silently at the yellowing orb castrated by clouds in the sky, Amunet leaned on the banister, bowing her head in the process.
Bakura emerged from the shadows, not so much as disturbing a single molecule of air in the process. Slinking up to her, he stood a whole few seconds, syncing his breathing to hers and watching her sway slightly. His face as unreadable as ever, he took in her scent and grabbed her with a swiftness that rendered her unable to even make a single sound of surprise. His right hand at her throat and his left snaking around her waist, pulling her onto him and squeezing all of her air from her body. His lips found the skin of her neck and he breathed warmly, eliciting chills to shoot through her blood and pierce through the pores of her skin.
"I hope you werent regretting anything, my dear," he breathed, fingers splayed around her throat.
"That would be most unfortunate," his arm around her waist emphasizing the point as he constricted himself around her tighter.
Amunet struggled for air but did not move otherwise, she had given herself to him completely and wouldn't fight. She had come to enjoy how dominant he was over her, and his physicality was not only enticing to her, but an assured method of release. Bakura was a snake, a predator that could easily consume anything in its path. Cunning, quick, and sadistic, he was her king. She melted into him as he bit into her neck.
She moaned, the noise choked from lack of air, caught in her throat where he lingered.
"What's wrong, princess?" he licked the area where he had bitten, smiling at her reaction and moving his hand from her neck, grabbing a fistful of hair. Pulling her face to meet his, he looked into her stony eyes, glistening from the sharpness of his movements.
"Beautiful," he smiled.
She did not return the gesture, but continued to look up at him, a strange mixture of adoration and desire pooling in her face.
He kissed her roughly, not removing his hold on her whatsoever. His fingers climbing through her scalp, gripping more hair as her mouth was pried open with his. As oxygen lightly fluttered back into her system, Bakura continued to kiss her, deepening it while slowing his movements. Amunet clutched onto him as best as she could while being restrained, her nails brushing against the skin on his arm and the material on his upper thigh.
He pulled away slowly, untangling their tongues and nipping at her bottom lip before gripping her hair tighter, using the leverage to push her over the balcony. Pressing himself against her while his left hand pushed into her back, keeping her bent over the railing, she groaned under the force of his movements. Her ribcage already aching from the sharp angle she was forced to lean over, she felt his hand leave her back and move the material of her dress.
"Kura.." she pleaded.
He tugged the hair wrapped around his hand, effectively hushing her as the jingling of his belt rang softly in her ears. Adjusting himself, he leaned over her back, pushing her harder into the banister.
"Kura.." she winced, squirming slightly underneath him.
Hushing her, he pulled her hair to the side and kissed her cheek before standing back up.
As she took in a sharp breath of relief, he pushed himself inside of her. She moaned his name again, lingering on how tight the sensation was.
"Kura..."
He removed himself completely from her and lingered just a second, long enough for her gasp of disappointment to turn back into one of shock as he slammed into her once more, picking up his pace from before.
"What do I want to hear, Amunet?" he snarled, gripping her hair and yanking her head back.
"Mm-master, it feels so goood," she gasped out, trying to breathe but feeling her climax rapidly approaching. Her brain had been cut off from any logical thought or movement, all she could do was enjoy the sensation Bakura was pulling from her body. His dominance over her was exasperating, but she truly loved it when this was the end result.
He purred with satisfaction at her words.
"Mmm, Amunet. Would you like to come?" he asked mockingly, knowing full well she was on the verge of a brutal orgasm.
"Yes, master, please let me," she groaned out, doing everything in her power to hold out until he had given her permission. Knowing that she would be severely punished for coming without permission, the prospect of doing so had gotten her even more turned on as she briefly pondered the idea.
"You're so wet already, but you better not be," he smirked, continuing his pace.
"I'm, I'm- I need to, please let me come," she gritted her teeth, trying to ride against the sensations that were overwhelming her.
"I don't think you earned it yet," he said slyly, removing himself from her body and turning her around to face him. Her legs were trembling to the point where her knees had buckled from his movements and he caught her expertly, hoisting her into the air as he placed his arms under her knees. She felt his appendage tease her entrance which was throbbing, and she felt lightheaded to the point where she almost felt like she had in fact climaxed. But her master wasn't finished with her. Adjusting himself within her folds once more, he slid into her slick core and bobbed her body up and down his length. Looking at her face, he felt his own release approaching as her features burned with ecstasy and submission to his will. Ever obedient, he grinned, ramming into her over and over again, her sounds reaching a high pitch that he could only describe as something so human and unearthly at the same time.
"Amunet, are you trying not to come?" his words were only slightly out of breath as he fought his climax from spilling into her. He was never truly sated from filling her. It was a sensation that he could never get his fill from, she was so tight and warm, she was his to have whenever he wanted. He had taken her virginity and he would take her as many times as he wished, she was his only. His obedient little slave girl, beautiful and youthful. Her body small but womanly in its curves, he would never admit it but after taking her he most enjoyed grabbing and touching the parts of her body he felt he had neglected during the act.
Amunet moaned languidly as her nails dug into the man she clung to, he was milking her body, wringing a particularly brutal orgasm from her as she fought to remain obedient to her master's whims. She had been fighting with all of her will to not release but this position was particularly grating against the little space inside of her that would produce such a violent reaction. Amunet cried out, desperate to have her way.
"Please, please let me," she half whispered, half screamed out at the expansive sky above her.
"Amunet," he gritting his own teeth in an attempt to focus his body into waiting just a few more moments. He never wanted to stop but he couldnt help coming undone at her desperate begging and the use of his title that she so expertly imployed.
It was becoming too much for the both of them and his hands gripped her ass harder as he forced her body onto him at a slightly slower but harder pace.
"Come for me, princess," he whispered in her ear, his brows knotting in precious attention to the feeling of her immediately tighten at his words. He could barely stop himself as she shook and jerked while he remained inside of her, screaming out his title as she poured over him. He gripped her harder as the sensation of his own orgasm shot up his length and filled her, growling as he did so. He slowed to a stop, pumping the last of his seed into her carefully, as she calmed her body down. She truly had released at the use of his little pet name for her. Whenever he called her princess, she felt silly admitting it to herself but she would feel her cheeks burn with embarrassment and love. It made her feel cherished and adored in a way that making love could not achieve. The act was the closest thing Amunet would ever get to affection from her king, so when he used the title, even if only mockingly, she truly loved it. Thinking about it while still coming down from her climax made her tighten around his length and drip slightly more onto his pelvis.
He growled as he felt her release again, and looked at her face which was dusted with the rosy tint he always looked forward to seeing after his release. She looked so ethereal, her eyes caught in a conflicting haze of lust. He couldnt help lingering inside her for another moment as he kissed her. The kiss was just as passionate as the act they had just committed, pumping his hips a little as his tongue wrapped itself in hers. Taking a slight step forward, Bakura rested her bottom on the ledge of the balcony, carefully bracing her back so she would feel safe. She did her best not to smile at the small act of kindness, as they continued to kiss. His assault on her lips had her practically gasping for air, so when she was forced to pull herself away from him he gripped her jaw and their eyes met. He was practically oozing satisfaction and male pride as he smelled the air of their act. She was dripping onto the floor and there was a considerable amount of moisture on the innermost of her thighs. He pulled out slowly, and watched intently as their juices spilled and stretched between them. She moaned at the loss of his warmth, leaning forward to replace that contact with something else. She nuzzled her head onto his chest and neck and breathed in the heat he was radiating. The hand on her back gingerly brushing down her spine, he rested his nose on the top of her head, getting lost in her scented black locks and swaying with her as the wind encircled them.
This was the only time she could get away with anything remotely affectionate with him, and she relished every second before he succumbed to his usual cold, dark exterior.
"Master?" she asked in her smallest voice, taking in his scent a little more as breathed more steadily.
He grunted for her to continue, which she did after taking in one more shaky breath.
"Master, why do you leave me for so long after? Do I not please you?" she asked, reaching as best she could to get him to open up to her. She belonged completely to him after all, obeyed him without hesitation, so answering her simple question was the least he for her.
He paused for a second, not knowing how vulnerable he should be with her in this moment.
It was almost a year ago when he had first grabbed her off the streets, that feisty personality she possessed intriguing him in the most titillating of ways. Making the rounds of his city that had fallen to his will, as the rest of the world had, Bakura made his way on his horse viewing the areas most likely to rebel against him. His presence there would ensure no one would attempt such a foolhardy mission against his powerful reign. As he looked down the road, dilapidated houses on either side spilled people all with the same expression of fear across their faces. He practically radiated joy at such an observation, he was indeed cruel and took much pride in making his subjects fear him. As he continued on his path he noticed some of his guards up ahead involved in a tussle. Eager to see who was going to be on the receiving end of whatever brutality he chose to inflict on the person disrupting his rounds, he nudged his horse hurriedly onto the scene. Three of the guards were actively pulling at the person, struggling to keep a hold of them. She had nearly taken his breath away when he saw a long throw of thick black hair emerge from the scuffle and a tiny feminine frame. Stunned that this tiny girl had caused so much commotion and was presenting a large problem for three of his guards, he nearly salivated at the prospect of making an example of her.
"What is the cause for all this?" he bellowed out at the circle of guards that had now formed between the girl and the rest of the crowd, who were all backing away in fear of what would happen.
One of the guards who was holding one of her arms behind her back looked up at Bakura, "This girl has been caught stealing food on numerous occasions, my King. She's evaded us for weeks when I noticed her running away from one of the other guards and headed her off in the crowd," he said exasperatingly. He was breathing heavily, clearly overwhelmed by the speed and stamina of the girl. He pulled her arm tighter in retaliation until she winced loudly. Her long hair hung in front of her as she was forced to bend over from the force of her arm twisted behind her, keeping her still lest it break.
Bakura got down from his horse, and the guards made way for him as he stepped closer to the girl. Bakura motioned for the guard holding her other arm and her neck to move, and when he did so the girl bent down towards the ground and spun her body in the direction of the other guard, effectively freeing her other arm as he was completely unprepared. Bakura, however, was faster and before she had a second to run away, he had grabbed her hair and yanked her brutally towards him. Entrapping her completely in his clutches he had also found the time to withdraw his sword and hold it to her throat. She was pressed completely flush against him, one of his hands wrapped in the hair that was not ripped from her scalp in his movements, and his other arm caging her in as held his sword to an artery in her neck.
"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" he whispered cruelly into her ear. Taking in her smell and lingering on the dirtiness in it. He took in her appearance mainly from her form pressed against his, she was very thin and could not comprehend why it was such a struggle for three strong men to hold her down. Still, she struggled against him, and through gritted teeth she responded,
"Get off of me," she grunted as he dug the sword into her skin enough to draw a thin line of blood. She started to shake in fear, Bakura could practically smell it on her, but still she resisted.
"Off...me"
"You'll regret your resistance shortly, that much you can count on," he whispered again before looking to the guards who were all prepared for her once more.
"Chain her," he ordered loudly.
The guards immediately set out to fastening her wrists and ankles, putting the final brace for her neck once Bakura had lowered his sword. There would be no way the girl could escape now. Bakura viewed her smugly, she was shaking more violently now that she had been put on her knees before him, chained and hopeless.*
"Look at me, you pathetic creature," he ordered loudly. The people around the guards were silent as they looked on at the scene, unknowingly thirsty for entertainment.
She did not look at him. She kept her head lowered, her hair curtained around her face. Bakura looked to one of the guards behind him, and on his belt was a whip, perfectly coiled and waiting to be unfurled. Bakura motioned him forward, behind the girl who continued to tremble but otherwise not move.
"Once," he stated clearly, making sure that everyone around him heard the command. Not knowing what the order pertained to as the only thing she had heard was someone walk behind her, kicking up the sand and rocks around her.
He would make sure that she would bend to his will. In the end, they all did.
After a long second spent in complete silence, she heard a crack like lightning come down, but it was upon her back and chained hands behind her. She smelled the faint smell of something metallic and realized it was her blood. She had involuntarily screamed in shock and the pain that was now washing over her completely. She felt her hair being tugged at and barely processed being lifted back to her knees after crumbling forward. Bakura held her there, satisfied with her reaction and waited for their eyes to meet. When she did meet his gaze her eyes burned his very soul, and would have lost his breath had he not been so acutely aware of how many eyes were on both of them. He refused to be seen as weak in front of his subjects and turned his emotions to a crueler setting, gripping her hair harder. She hissed in pain and tried to move into his hand to alleviate the burning on her scalp, but he only pulled away higher. She began to feel tears pouring down her face as her back and hands stung more than anything she had ever felt.
"That was once, you fool, do you have a death wish or will you submit?" he glowered down at her.
She met his eyes once more and although they were tearing, she met him with the same fiery sentiment as before.
"I will not submit, my King," she said confidently.
Bakura looked to her incredulously, completely in awe of her determination as well as her ability to undercut his title. She was smart and cunning, strong and capable. She reminded him of someone, but he couldn't visit that here.
He smirked instead and began to laugh before turning around and addressing the crowd.
"This foolish creature thinks she's above my reign, now she will pay for her disobedience in front of all of you. If she doesnt die, I will take her for myself and continue to torture her night and day even after she has repented, let that go as a warning to any of you who think you can challenge or evade me," he bellowed out. The guards held her down as they unchained her wrists to hold in front of her, keeping her back towards the man that was now going to cut it to ribbons.
"Once!" Bakura yelled out, not being able to contain his excitement at the brutal punishment beginning.
She screamed out again, but stayed still, awaiting the next strike.
Bakura, slightly dumbfounded, lowered his eyes, and ordered for the guard to continue until his wrist grew tired.
She took seventeen lashes until Bakura noticed the slump in her body, indicating that she was unconscious. He grinned again, and spoke a few words to the crowd before getting back on his horse. He loudly ordered the guard to bring her to his private chambers immediately and kicked the horse forward to his palace. Knowing that he would be making good on his earlier threat, the people were disgusted by the girl's wounds as she was hoisted onto the shoulder of a guard.
Bakura awaited her anxiously, he had never seen a pheasant respond so passionately against him and enjoyed the change in routine. Everyone was so scared of him that having no opposition was frankly rather dull.
She was brought in as the sun was beginning its descent, tinting the room in a warm but sullen glow.
The guard knocked and Bakura responded with a curt, "Enter."
The guard seemed obedient enough, but Bakura could tell he had the smallest shred of reluctance handing her over, which annoyed him to no end. Ordering him out as soon as he set the girl down before he took his soul, he tried to focus his attention back at the girl who was stirring but still unconscious.
Bakura walked over to her, not making a single sound he looked at her back which was torn to ribbons. He grabbed at her hand when he noticed the front of her was oozing blood as well. Her hands had been cut clean open when she was first struck.
She whimpered at the movement and Bakura couldn't waste the opportunity and squeezed her hand. He heard a gasp and her sudden flinching alerted him that she was awake now.
She tried to sit up but she was still heavily chained and severely injured. She moved her head trying to at least see her surroundings and eventually her eyes fell on him.
"Awake are we?" He smiled devilishly at her, watching the panic flood to her eyes as she realized that she was bound in the worst possible circumstances.
"No..no...no.." she started whispering, more to herself as if she were trying to wake from a dream.
The more she processed her reality, the worse she became and unfurling her tough facade before him, she was sobbing uncontrollably, begging him,
"Please...please.."
Bakura had the most uncharacteristic stabbing feeling in his chest. The girl that had so boldly defied him before was now reduced to a shell of her former self.
There was no more fun to be had with her now. He let her continue until her sobbing lessened and he was able to speak.
"Not so tough anymore are you?" He asked more to himself than to her. He crouched down beside her.
"Why did you defy me?" He asked staring straight at her. Several moments passed, her eyes burned in pain and it looked like she was struggling to stay conscious. He let her take the time she needed, and when she finally opened her mouth to speak he was astonished by the answer.
"I was hungry," she stated plainly.
The pain In his chest was growing and he was afflicted by something he had not for many years. His very soul was at turmoil with his body, and fearing the outcome that seemed close to being realized, he focused all of his energy into his hand and hovered it over her back. Within a few seconds the room was a glow from a different source, the girl stopped crying completely. Her back was warming and she could feel the pain start to ebb.
Within a few seconds the glowing stopped and she looked to Bakura who was looking at her back still. He met her gaze and stood up, folding his arms.
"Better?" He asked not caring to hide his distaste for asking.
She realized her back was now healed and although she couldn't see it, she could feel the smoothness of her flesh returned to its previous state in addition to the throbbing pain completely gone. Her hands were still twitching but the back was such a relief, she couldn't comprehend why he would go through all the trouble to help her, heal her at that.
"How..?" She marveled up at him, even though she really wanted to ask why.
"I couldnt be bothered with your pathetic outburst when I'm trying to have a little fun," he grimaced.
She tried sitting up which proved quite difficult in chains but was able to get on her knees before him.
He viewed her, a stony faced expression as she fidgeted in her chains.
"What is your will with me?" she asked, the burning fire returning to her cosmic grey eyes.
The sight was mesmerizing and Bakura found himself short of breath upon looking at her. He wanted to strike her, to torture her, make her beg forgiveness, and continue torturing her until she had not a breath left in her pathetic mortal body. But he couldn't. The girl on her knees before him knew of the delicate balance between them, and played on both sides, she was defying him but respectful in her questioning. She was confounding** and wrapping his senses in her own bonds.
He looked to her dress, tattered rags still tinged with the blood from her previous wounds, they fell loosely around her small frame which brought him back to her earlier statement, "I was hungry..."
She reminded him so strongly of someone or something else, yet he couldn't revist the memory.
She was his slave. That's all she would ever be, he resolved. She would make her penance by serving him for the rest of her life and even in the afterlife, he would play with her soul for all eternity. She would be his possession and he would never relinquish her to anything, including death.
"You are my slave. You will serve me in this life and the next. You will pay for your pathetic rebelling against me in front of my subjects. You are indebted to me for all eternity. I had you whipped before the entire city until you were no longer conscious and I brought you into my chambers and healed you. Do not think of this as an act of kindness on my part, I wanted to demonstrate my power to you. Just as easily as I can have you whipped I can save you and repeat the process as many times as I wish. Do you understand?"
At this point he had bent over so his face was right in hers, his hand now in a fistful of hair but not as tightly wound as earlier. He was being unknowingly gentle towards the girl, and she picked up on it immediately.
Returning her eyes from his searing gaze back to where her hands, caked with blood, rested in their nest of chains on her lap, she nodded her head and opened her mouth to speak,
"Yes master, I am at your will," she spoke quietly.
He pulled her hair harder to which she winced but did not fight him.
He smirked and released his hold, petting the top of her head and reaching for her chin with his free hand.
"Let me see that beautiful face," bringing her chin up and examining her features. After what felt to her like an eternity, he began to grin.
"Have you been taken?" He asked, causing her whole body to stiffen with the implication. She wanted to spit in his face but quickly pushed that feeling down and answered him.
"No, master," she said gritting her teeth.
He noticed her body's reaction to his question and had to force himself not to laugh at her response. She was clearly not interested in laying with him.
That will soon change he mused.
"What is the ultimate test of loyalty, girl?" he asked, hoping she would catch on immediately.
"Obedience," she said curtly.
"You're a smart girl. Stand up," he ordered. Straightening up and walking towards one of the doors in the far corner of the room.
She had some difficulty but managed to stand up but did not follow him.
He smiled in pleasure as they stared at each other from across the room.
"Come," he commanded, pointing to the area right before his feet.
She bit her tongue and shuffled over as elegantly as she could. As soon as she made it over to him he picked her up and put her over his shoulder, opening the door behind him and carrying her in.
It was a bathroom, one so elegantly designed that was her mouth was agape as she viewed it from over his shoulder. He placed her on the edge of the large bathtub and began the process of filling it up.
"You will bathe, quickly," he added, "and return to me. Understand?" he looked at her matter of factly, waiting for her response.
She was still scared of him, mostly of his intentions, but she nodded her head just the same before he began to walk out of the room. Just as he reached the door, he stopped, holding the knob in his hand.
"You will not put those rags on when you are done. You will come to me in nothing but your chains," he said over his shoulder right before shutting the door behind him.
When she emerged from the bathroom more than twenty minutes later, he looked up eagerly from where he had made himself comfortable on the bed.
She was obedient, and came to him in nothing but her chains. Her hair still wet from her bath, the droplets forming ritually onto her body and sliding down her slender frame. He felt himself growing at the sight despite how starved the girl looked. The aching in his chest was there once more and he felt his mind flooding with memories from his former life. Growling in annoyance, he sat up and commanded her to come to him. She finished the distance between the bed and crawled onto it, not sure if she would have to lay beside him or on top of him.
Before she was given the chance he grabbed her up and switched their positions so she was laying on her back beneath him. She looked up at him, not giving anything way but those eyes that burned beautifully.
"Tell me you belong to me," he whispered.
"I belong to you, master," she whispered back.
Having his ego thoroughly sated at her words, he leant down and breathed in her clean scent.
"What's a beautiful creature like you doing stealing food and fighting my guards?" he mused. She hesitated to answer but made sure her tone was rid of all hatred towards the man who now pressed himself against her.
"There is no food out there for us. The monopoly the rich families have on us is one of greed and control. We are slaves to not only them and you, but to any possible chance at life. I am the only one left in my family, everyone else starved or were lost to me. I roam the streets for crumbs and opportunities to satiate the need for revenge with bread and scraps of meat. I have never begged for myself, and I have never taken a life but your guards would happily equate the two and use their power over me to defile me. As a result, I have become skilled at getting away, otherwise I would not be pure or alive for that matter,"
She spoke calmly, but truthfully and hoped that he would spare her from punishment for doing so.
He stared at her, contemplating her words and feeling the ache once more. She reminded him of himself at her age. What he was forced to endure as a child, growing up with that pain and being forced to live with the oppressive regime that would not only kill his family but torture his very existence to the end of his days. This girl was something he had unknowingly created and he would keep her safe forever. She would never know hunger again. This thought surprised himself, and he felt the annoyance from such a sentiment come close to overwhelming him entirely.
He got up from the bed suddenly and stood silently.
She dared not say a word and remained still on the bed.
He began to walk towards the door, stifling the building rage he was feeling once more.
Ryou..
His human side, his weakness was beginning to come back to life and he would not allow the girl to see it. He slammed the door shut behind him with a wave of his hand once he was a few steps into the hallway, and yelled at the first servant he saw to bring food into his private chambers.
"My king?"
Bakura was brought back to his surroundings. Standing by the ledge where he had just made love to her.
He couldn't answer her question without revealing a great deal about himself and more importantly, his feelings for her.
"I lose myself inside of you every time and you're concerned I do not find you pleasurable?" he asked teasingly.
Her cheeks burned a deeper shade of red as she processed his response.
He touched her face gently and kissed her again.
"I-I just wish to know if you find me pleasing to you," she mumbled. "You seem to leave me quite quickly after and don't seem to miss me," she said, biting back a bit.
He enjoyed the way she could do that without being overly vicicious. He was inclined to take her once more already.
She looked up at him, rather adoringly for her usual countenance towards him. She was finally softening towards him, after all this time. Granted he had broken her twice over to do it, but he knew that his way of manipulating her would work to his benefit eventually.
"What do you think?" he mocked.
"I think that you only want me this way," she mumbled out softly, not meeting his eyes.
"And if I don't?" he spoke cautiously, not allowing his voice to bear too much emotion. He was becoming as attached to her as she was to him. His attempts to not appear affectionate to her in any way fell quite short, because she always picked up on the smallest of gestures.
"Then what do you want with me?" she asked, keeping her eyes down.
He looked over her form on the ledge, her fingers clutching onto his arm and shirt.
"Do I not treat you well enough?" the bitterness evident on his tone to cover up his embarrassment at the question.
"I never said that," she whispered.
He studied her countenance, letting out a brief sigh as he readied himself to respond.
"You belong to me, and I have no desire to continue this conversation any further," his hand found its way between their bodies and had begun teasing her lips open. She gasped at the movement, still sensitive from before.
"Is that clear?" he growled, feeling her juices drip from her eager body.
"Mm, yes-s," she mumbled, trying to suppress the feeling that was already overcoming her.
"Yes, who?" he asked menacingly.