Author's note: This is darker than anything I've ever posted here before, and I know it won't be everyone's cup of tea. The concept popped into my mind while I was wasting time idly browsing the DGM kink meme, and it wouldn't let me alone until I wrote it. I have to apologize now. I love Tyki, and I would never ever want to hurt him, but the way this story wanted to be written...well, you'll see what I mean. It's disturbing, it's off my usual path. But it's here anyway. Read at your own risk. :)
"Do you like it?" a woman's voice purred in his ear. "I had Road make it especially for me." A chuckle. "Or rather, especially for you." He couldn't quite place the voice, but he had to admit it was doing some wonderful things to his libido. As near as he could tell he was in a medium-sized room, wearing just a pair of slacks – no shirt, shoes, or boxers. From the note in her voice he knew this was about to be a very interesting night. He grinned devilishly. Now to just phase out of these bindings and...wait...what...what the FUCK? He struggled against the ropes holding him tight, completely freaked out by the uncomfortable fact that he couldn't just decide to get free when he wanted. Tyki was most definitely not used to being bound. With the Noah's ability to pass through anything he chose, this was a first for him and he did. Not. Like. It. From beside him came another throaty chuckle and he whipped his face to the side, trying in vain to shake off the cloth over his eyes so he could at least see his tormenter.
"Ah ah. Behave, my little Noah," the sultry voice whispered. "This room, this environment, has been specially designed with your, shall we say, talents in mind. How, you may ask? Let's just say your darling Road owed me a favor for sparing her life. So in this space and time, as long as I don't kill you, you are mine." He felt the current of air as the mystery woman stepped around him. "I'll admit, I'm not usually a take-charge kind of woman when it comes to...playing. But for you, lovely one, I'll make an exception."
"Who are you?" he asked calmly, despite the brief panic that was flowing through him at his helpless state. "What do you want?" Just then, the woman grabbed his shoulders and slammed him backward, pinning him to a wall. The air left his lungs in a huff as he hit, and raced back in with a gasp as he felt her press herself completely against him, the feel of a lithe, strong body momentarily overcoming his desire for freedom.
"What I want is easy. I want you. I want to do things to you that you will never forget. I want to know you, like no one else ever has. Or ever will." He shuddered as the mystery woman sucked on his earlobe for a moment.
"And as to who I am...well, would you like to know?"
"Yes," he gasped. In the next instant there was a sharp pain in his shoulder as what felt like teeth clamped down on the skin near his collarbone. He let out a yell and heard a giggle in return.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he snarled. A tongue slid over the broken skin, stinging slightly and soothing at the same time.
"Tasting you," came the mellow reply.
"Who the fuck ARE you?" he gasped as he felt a hand tweak one of his nipples. Slim fingers traced over his chest, up his neck, to run across the sensitive stigmata marks on his forehead, and he nearly groaned. Those same fingers deftly tackled the knot on the blindfold and as it was drawn away he gasped in shock. Dark eyes were looking at him, shining with the light of an unholy lust he never would have thought the beautiful exorcist capable of feeling. He had to admit he'd had his fantasies about claiming Lenalee Lee, but seeing her in front of him clad in a sleek silver-threaded black corset and garter belt, with shimmery black stockings encasing her incredible legs, ending in heels that put her almost up to his eye level...well, he guessed wet dreams could come true. Even for Noah. But something about the expression she was wearing made him, well, a little uneasy. He knew sadistic when he saw it. And there it was, bubbling away just below the slinky surface of the woman in front of him. Still, he'd be damned if he let her see how much her darker side unnerved him.
"Exorcist," he murmured. "Who would have thought we'd meet in such a place?" She tilted her head and looked at him, a smug grin on her lips.
"I would." She took a step back and stood still, arms at her sides, and he knew it was an invitation to give her a thorough once-over. Never one to pass up an opportunity for beauty, he did just that, gazing over the skin and material that was so blatantly on display before him.
"Do you like what you see?" she asked, and he returned his gaze to hers, fixing her with a look that was well known to reduce most people of either gender to quivering masses of lust.
"You are exquisite, my dear. Untie me and I'll show you how much I like it." He wondered why he was suddenly looking at the wall to his left, and what the ringing was, until he realized she had backhanded him. In shock he looked back at her, seeing that same smug half-smile on her face.
"What. The. Hell?" he ground out, suddenly not liking the way this game seemed to be playing out. He flinched involuntarily as she reached towards his face, but to his surprise she simply ran a finger over his lower lip. He saw that it was smeared with blood – his blood – and mused that she'd hit him hard enough to split his lip. As he watched she lifted her finger to her lips, watching him through her eyelashes as she slid her tongue out to taste the red liquid before slipping her finger in her mouth and sucking it clean. Pissed off as he was, even he had to admit that was pretty hot. But the look in her eyes intensified, and for the first time Tyki Mikk began to feel fear.
She stepped closer and he tried to shift away only to find that he was pinned to the wall by some invisible force. She laughed low in her throat and advanced even closer.
"Do you know," she mused, letting a fingernail scrape down his chest with not quite enough pressure to draw blood, "that in some cultures it was believed that drinking the blood of your enemy gave you his knowledge, his strength?" It was obvious she wasn't waiting for an answer so he stayed silent, watching her with something akin to dawning horror beginning to race through him. "It's a critical component in the origins of the vampire mythos as well." Her other hand came up to join the first and without warning she dug her nails in and ripped them down both sides of his chest, leaving gashes in their wake that were slowly filling with ruby drops. He let out a shout at the pain and struggled as much as he could – which wasn't much as he was still trapped by the room. Unable to do anything, he watched as she leaned down, licking and lapping at his torn skin. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, she opened her mouth wide and bit down hard on the muscle above his left hip. He'd barely finished drawing breath back in after screaming before she repeated the process on the right one.
"What – why are you doing this? What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice breaking as she bit him again – this time on the inside of his right wrist. She glanced up at him and moved her hands to his belt.
"I'm doing this because I want to. Because I want to fuck you and leave you in a bleeding, incoherent pile on the floor. Because you taste divine and there is nothing as satisfying as feeling a strong man break under my teeth and hands. As to what I want from you? That's easy." She'd unfastened his pants and yanked them down to his ankles with one surprisingly swift motion.
"I want your surrender. I want to watch you cry. I want to see you wince as your tears seep into the cuts and the salt mixes with your blood. And then I want to walk away and know that you will never be the same."
Hours, days, years may have passed. Lenalee held to her word. She dug her teeth and claws into every inch of his body, until most of his skin was ragged and bloody. She put him though more agony than he had ever known. And just when he thought he would pass out, she dropped to her knees, sliding a sticky hand over his cock with an expertise he would have sworn she couldn't have, and despite the pain he felt himself getting hard for her. Her lips were next, sliding over his engorged member and leaving streaks of his own blood behind. And then in a motion too nimble to be followed she leapt up and wrapped her legs around his waist, cramming his painfully swollen rod into her depths with an absurd amount of force and throwing her head back with a triumphant scream of pleasure. She rode him hard, yet never ceased the frequency of her teeth clamping on his sore skin. The pain was excruciating, but she was so tight, so hot, and it all began to blend together in one horrifying erotic tableau until he couldn't tell if he was screaming in pain or enjoyment. When he finally came, his body exploding within her out of sheer exhaustion and agony, she rode out her own climax with her nails dug into his shoulders and her head tossed back like some avenging goddess screaming to the skies. And when she stopped shaking she jumped to the ground, and he could see traces of his blood all over her pure skin, and traces of his semen on her legs, and he couldn't escape the tears that began to fall from his eyes. Somehow the bonds holding him disintegrated as she stood there, and he slumped to the ground, unable to even contemplate movement. He was in pain, so much pain, and his swollen eyes were overflowing as he realized he had just been forced through some of the worst things he had ever experienced, and it was at the hands (and mouth) of one of the Order's golden children.
Without another word she swung a black cloak around her shoulders, completely wrapped in its ankle-length velvet, and walked away, never looking back. And Tyki, bleeding and mumbling, lay slumped on the floor. Only one thought made its way into his head.
She was right. Tears did burn.