1833
Bura-sama
Sunday, March 31, 2002
Sunday, March 31, 2002
Disclaimer: Digimon belongs in no way to me. I'm making no profit from this sicko story. Really, I'm not. I don't own the characters, I'm merely using them for my sick and twisted fantasies, and no infringement is intended.
Warnings: This is a Kenkeru (Ken x Takeru). This fic features homosexual situations, implied sex, profanity, mutilation, death, suicide, light bondage, and horrible use of writing in the present tense. You have been warned, and any damage this fic might do to your mental stability is strictly your own fault.
Notes: I really have no clue where this came from. I've never read a Kenkeru in my life, and I never intended to write one that didn't involve syphilis. I guess I dedicate this to my sister. She's the Kenkeru fan... actually Kaikeru, but there's only so much I can do. :) I hope no one else has one just like this -- I really don't feel like being accused of stealing...
An Arrow Through the Heart
Chapter One
The moonlight floods onto my body, washing it in a dusky blue. My eyes are barely open, yet I can still see everything. My clothes are lying in a disheveled heap on the floor.
So are his.
I close my eyes as I feel the warm body next to me push itself closer. It feels justified and right. The events of last night are still so fresh in my mind. As my eyes remain shut, I can see them all play out so slowly. The clothes being ripped off our bodies, the grunting and moaning as his mouth licks a path from my navel and well down below. I always knew he was a little whore. I can see him pinned beneath me as he squirms. He's crying out my name over and over again until his cries and pleas just turn into one guttural groan.
My body burns with these thoughts...
The thin white sheet is wrapped around my body, tangling me closer to him. He's not asleep, I can tell even though his eyes are closed and his breathing is even.
I look down on my exposed chest to see six thin welts running downward on my skin. The scene where his fingernails are scratching me raw floods into my mind and I tremble. I can see his hand next to my face. It's tied to the bedpost with a lacy white scarf. There are red marks on his wrist where he's tried to pull out of it sometime during or after sex. I momentarily consider untying him, but decide against it.
I reach over to the desk next to my bed and grab something. Although I roll back into my old position, I can't seem to be comfortable. The bed seems to have shifted, and it takes me a moment to realize that he has rolled onto his side -- facing me.
I slowly move the object back and forth so that the moonlight reflects off of its smooth surface. I feel the blood in my body turn cold as if it is made of ice. A shudder ripples from head to toe. I prop myself up on the pillows and look down at the boy at the side of my bed. "Takeru?"
He opens his dazzling blue eyes and stares at me without another word being spoken.
"Takeru, come up here." My voice sounds cold and commanding even to my own ears.
After a moment of hesitation, he moves up to the head of the bed and sits next to me, legs folded under him.
"Not like that." My tone is still sharp and unforgiving. I don't feel this way inside, I can't understand why I sound so pushy. I reach toward him and grab his ankle, a half-whispered gasp escapes from his mouth as I pull his foot to my other side. He eventually gets the hint and moves so that he is straddling me. "Much better."
Now the moonlight clearly illuminates his naked body, and I groan. He looks so thin and almost sickly as the blues reflect off of his pale body. He has a mark, a scar, that runs from the top of his right shoulder across his back to the top of his left hip. It's a fresh mark, and my blood pounds harder. "What happened?" He blushes and I instantly know. "My, my, my, Takeru. You really are a little whore."
He blushes even harder despite his glare.
I reach up and run my fingers along his silky smooth skin, following the reachable parts of the scar without actually touching it. "You sell your body, never knowing just what someone is going to do to it." He shudders under my touch.
I look up at him in the moonlight, and I smile. "How much would you charge to let me cut you?"
He looks away as the color from his blush drains from his face. I raise my fingers up into the empty space between us. The razor blade in my hands gleams dangerously in the blue light. "How much would you charge to cut me?"
He looks back with a confused and shocked expression on his face. "What?" That is the first word he's spoken to me since he was crying out my name during sex.
I immediately change the subject, although my fingers still toy with the blade. "Have you ever called out the wrong name during sex?" I don't even know where that question came from.
He looks downcast and I put the dull side of the blade against his skin. He tenses.
"I suppose it wouldn't really matter to your... customer. They're not paying you for your voice."
I push the blade against his skin so that it scrapes it but doesn't break the skin.
"Stop it, Ken."
I merely grin and drag the blade up to his throat. "Stop what? This conversation or this foolish little dance with the razor." I turn the blade around so that the sharp side is pressed against his motionless neck.
"You know what I mean." The movement nicks his skin and a single drop of blood rolls from the cut.
I lick it off of his skin.
He's shaking visibly as I pull the razor away and wipe the trace amounts of blood onto my sheets. I take one hand and gently cup his face. He stares at me. I move my other hand to the razor and hold it out for him. "Your turn."
He doesn't move.
I take my hand from his face and forcibly put my hand around his. I pick up the blade and tighten his fingers around it. One hand clenches the sheets as the other guides his from my shoulder to my elbow. I moan at the stinging feel as the shallow line of red blooms on my arm. It doesn't hurt. I always thought that it would hurt. Takeru doesn't resist my movements, but he doesn't take over like I thought he would. As I reach to move to the other arm, his hand stops mine.
His golden blond head dips down to my arm and licks off the thin trail of my blood. I jerk and moan as his tongue laves at my wound. With my other hand I forcibly bring his head closer. He isn't making any noise, and I sound like a bitch being fucked.
That has to go.
I flip him over to his back. I'm reminded that one hand is still tied behind his back as it folds beneath him at the elbow. I grab the other hand and jerk it to the same bedpost the other one is tied to. I pull another scarf from my underneath my pillow and tie his wrist to the other. I climb onto his stomach so that we are imitating the roles we had just moments before. He looks up at me with wide blue eyes.
The cut on my arm is bleeding. I don't care as it drips onto my crisp, white sheets. I move my hands down to frame his face. I can feel my body humming to life as I lick the spot next to his ear. He doesn't react. My fingers hook into his hair and I give it a sharp pull.
He still doesn't react.
"Takeru." His eyes look almost emotionless. "Takeru." He finally looks at me. "Do you love me?"
That got a reaction. He vigorously tries to buck me off of him, but I won't move.
"What the fuck, Ken?! How could you even ask me that?" For some odd reason, his words sting me.
I slap him hard across the face. "Of course you wouldn't have emotions like love. You are after all, just a lady of the night."
He scowls at me and I slap him again. I'd never really slapped someone before, so the stinging palm came as a surprise. I have always been taught that women slap and real men punch. Somehow punching Takeru doesn't feel right.
I violently shove his legs apart and settle myself between them. I reach for the razor blade and, for the first time that night, he struggles against me.
His hips are bucking and his feet are kicking at me. I don't have another scarf to tie his feet down with. I push the razor against his thigh, and lightly trace a path down to the soft spot at the back of his knee. His thrashings have stopped. I can't bring myself to cut his perfect skin. I look up to see a dark trail racing down his neck and I almost feel guilty.
"Fuck this." My words shock me as I move myself from my spot between his legs and resume straddling him.
Sometime during our little game the sky had darkened to an almost black-colored blue. I could just see Takeru's outline and of course the ever-present blood that ran from his neck and my arm.
I reach over to the desk next to my bed and deposit the razor blade there. I clumsily jerk open a drawer and reach for what I know is inside.
The metal feels cool and heavy in my hands. It's dirty somehow, tainted with something I don't really want to put a name to. I want to drop it and run to the bathroom to wash my hands clean. Takeru doesn't know what I have although he will soon enough. I grab the metal in one hand and reach back to the desk. My hands return with a neatly folded envelope. I couldn't remember what exactly was in it. My life savings -- which wasn't much, and a note to my family and a note to my friends. I throw that envelope onto Takeru's exposed chest.
"Ken?" His voice is so quiet that I can barely hear it. "What are you doing, Ken?"
"You sell yourself, Takeru. I would feel really bad if you didn't get paid." My voice is almost breaking.
I'm sure he heard the change in tone because I can see his sparkling blue eyes blink up at me in the darkness. Then he closed them and looked away from my piercing stare. I sure hope that my stare was piercing and not guilty. I hope that Takeru looked away in intimidation rather than pity.
The clouds are starting to drift away from the moon. I can see the pale blue light once more starting to flood into the room.
I knew the instant that Takeru opened his eyes. His body was absolutely still as he realized that he was staring down into the barrel of a gun. I push it against his temple and he tries to scoot away. "Ken..."
I bring the gun up to my own temple and look Takeru in the eyes.
"Sayonara, Takeru... you damn bitch..."
I pull the trigger and fade into darkness as I hear Takeru's anguished cries.
It doesn't hurt like I thought it would...
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------ No, it's not finished. I have another chapter to write.