This fic is a continuation based of a wonderful story, so please read this oneshot first! h.t.t.p.:./. /3627450/chapters/8485531 (take the (periods) out because sucks with sharing links *growl*
Otherwise consider this an in medias res fic that you'll not fully see the well placed beginnings of.
This fic is inspired by the lovely inK_AddicTion's oneshot where Jamie Bennett finds a way to ensnare Pitch as his captive when Pitch comes back for revenge.
WARNINGS! Okay, this fic is a very DARK fic, it deals in themes of (Slavery, Captivity, Anal sex, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Rape/Non-con Elements, Bondage, and Stockholm Syndrome) I'm sure there will likely be more warnings to add as I write this. Either way, it's not a pretty fic, it's going to make you cry fic! Creeper Jamie! Triggers! You have been warned!
Chapter One
Mine
Pitch took in long drawn out breaths reflexively pulling against the seemingly so fragile looking magical bonds that held him prisoner. The reflective surface of the metallic bright silver twinkled fragments of sunlight from the window that pounded its infernal rays down upon him keeping him weak and weaker still as the time passed and he had no reprieve but to endure.
How long had he been here strapped to this mattress? The boy Jamie had grown from a boy into a young man about to start college. So almost a decade? More than a decade? Pitch had stopped trying to count the days any longer as it seemed so meaningless.
He had been pinned before, frozen in stasis to the world around him with a spear of light embedded in his heart. But, he had been immobile in both mind and body then as if caught in a state of dreaming. A timeless nothing of darkness and nightmares to surround him replaying the downfall of the Golden Age. Sometimes he felt triumphant in these visions taking all the pent up rage roiling through him to spit back at his oppressors. His defiance and pull to power magnificent to behold. In other visions these vary acts filled his heart with a ringing agony and despair to have seen every star dimmed by his hand leaving a dried field of dotted husks to float in the night sky. His humanity reared its head here and there in these particular moments, but for the most part, it had been shoved down deep into the murky undergrowth of a forgotten time, a forgotten person squelched in sin and festering decay. He was the Nightmare Lord; he gave nightmares, now his sole existence was to live one.
The bed groaned a complaint as Pitch shifted slightly. The chains held him spread eagle tied to each bed post. He was capable of small movements though as there was just enough slack in the chain for Pitch to turn on his side, which he did in the midafternoon hours when the sun shone in at its most merciless. He was thankful for the soft breezes that would occasionally billow through the open window sending the light kiss of the wind to caress his heated naked flesh save for the black silken boxers Jamie had seen fit to dress him in once his robes had all but disintegrated. They were made of the essence of shadows, and over prolonged exposure to the sun had turned brittle cracking like dirt in a desert heat and eventually flaking away like ash in a fire.
Jamie was a curious boy, and through the years had grown bolder and less wary of Pitch. His lack of fear of him was just another poke at the worn away nightmare lord's pride. The first few years held bitter resentment from both sides as Jamie had captured Pitch as a means to keep his family from being broken apart by the way too successful attempts of Pitch's machinations. Pitch had meant to toxify his parent's relationship through masterfully wreaking hellish nightmares on them every night creating misery and discord in Jamie's waking life. It had been working to, but Jamie was resourceful even without the help of the guardians, he'd found a way to nullify Pitch.
Fascination blossomed in the last light as animosity was replaced by curiosity and an intemperance of supremacy over the nightmare lord. Pitch belonged to Jamie now, he was his undisclosed treasure hidden where no one else could find him. Like most well-guarded treasures, Jamie had grown to feel quite possessive of Pitch, and this feeling was not lost on Pitch who secretly thrummed pleasure to feel so wanted by another.
Although such adoration came with the price of his freedom. This was okay though because Jamie had reassured him that it had to be this way, Pitch was a monster, and Jamie was keeping the world safe from the likes of his twisted scheming and wicked ways. How could Pitch not agree that this was what he deserved? A decade's worth of berating and convincing alongside tender affectionate acts so simple as to admiringly run soft fingertips gently down the base of Pitch's spine or a tenderly placed kiss on a pallid tensed shoulder left Pitch to believe that this in fact must be where he belonged.
The young man had grown, sprouting to a stature of six foot one, he was still a couple inches shorter than Pitch, but his lean mass made up where his height was lacking. Jamie had taken to wrestling around the age of fourteen, and every year since the boy startlingly became more of a man that reminded Pitch of a bull dog when the teen would sidle up close to him. His tanned features were a stark difference to the pale smooth skin the nightmare lord exhibited. Taut bulging biceps next to lean sinewy arms half the size.
The walls were covered in faded Polaroid pictures, the older camera a whimsical find Jamie had found at a pawn shop some years back. The boy was always snapping pictures of Pitch, and for the longest time, it had unnerved him. But, it was a form of attention, and Pitch having been so starved for attention came to take this action to be somewhat endearing even if over the past couple years the pictures were of more than mere expressions or still life styled representations of the life Pitch now existed in.
Those were innocent, and the light of wonder had shown in the Bennett boy's eyes when he'd taken a picture of Pitch and then flipped through his phone to see what he'd captured. These days, the wonder had been twisted into something much more perverse and demanding. It started innocently enough with the teen wanting to take pictures of him without any clothing. Jamie wanted to see all of Pitch as he truly was, he had said. His body was a marvel, and the clothing was an unnecessary barrier that was an injustice to the innate beauty the dark man held.
Pitch didn't have the same level of shame the modern world held over the naked body, and found nothing inherently wrong in this request divesting himself of the article easily. But, as time went on, and the teen grew older and more aware both physically and mentally, he wanted much less than artistic pictures of nudity. They became demoralizing in nature leaving Pitch to feel like an object as Jamie commanded that he show himself in more vulnerable positions that clearly were meant for a whole other purpose than artful photography.
Pitch was not naïve, and he'd refused at first, but Jamie grew greedy, and there was no disagreement unless Pitch wished to be ignored for days on end. It was excruciating to bear until finally this all too common use of neglect would eat away at Pitch until finally he offered to pose for him because he wanted Jamie to be happy with him. He wanted Jamie to remind him that he could be seen. He needed that faith to feel the unburdening touch that reassured Pitch that he had in fact not been forgotten.
These games of power moved through an ebbing cycle of further debauchery, "Just a little further," the now baritone voice coaxed gently. The glint in his eyes reminded Pitch of a predator as they bore into his flesh. The meaty calloused hand slid gently down the slender quivering thigh lightly applying pressure to spread his legs further.
Pitch looked away swallowing the lump that had worked into his throat as he slowly acquiesced. Some small part of him broke to give in to the exposure as he heard the camera click.
The boy chided, "There you go tensing again. Just act natural," he said soothingly silken whispers, but there was no natural about this. The hand was eager as it gripped handfuls of flesh pushing the leg more forcefully back to open up and bare him fully. The shutter flashed again several more times.
Jamie sighed, Pitch was doing it again. He was retreating back into whatever dark recesses he went to when Jamie pushed a little too hard. He kissed the knobby knee and gently ran the length of the top of Pitch's thigh thrilling at the goosebumps that bloomed across the still slightly shivering flesh, "Hey, it's okay. We can stop for now. I just… I just wanted a little something for later to admire you by." His hand slid up past the thigh lingering on the delicate hip bone.
Pitch could sense the animalistic want to sink fingers into flesh, but the hesitation and the added temperature radiating through the teen's hand was all that Jamie had allowed… this time.
Rough poorly manicured fingertips resumed their journey like a lazy crocodile up Pitch's abdomen tracing smoothly over protruding rib bones that shuttered reflexively. "You like that. You do; don't you?"
His husky words elicited another sharp intake of breath from Pitch unsure what to say. He remained silent staring at the ceiling as he worked to even out his breathing once more. Piercing pain applied to his nipple had Pitch jerk with a gasped, "Yes!" And then a quieter more subdued, "yes."
The fingertips withdrew with a gentle swab across his chest flicking the other nipple playfully as a small chortle escaped Jamie's throat, "I knew you would. Don't you worry, I'm going to make sure you're taken care of. You know I care about you right?"
Pitch nodded whispering a barely audible, "Yes."
The bulky form flipped Pitch on his side easily moving up to spoon the lithe form tightly to him. Hot kisses trailed slowly from Pitch's shoulder to his neck where the hungry mouth latched down just hard enough to make the Boogeyman's body grow ridged. An amused chuckle followed as more kisses pressed tender affections into the nape of his neck. Pitch relaxed, and Jamie pulled on him passively to align their bodies to suit his comfort.
Jamie liked this, and honestly, the closeness of feeling the other man's strong heartbeat against his back Pitch found soothing. He needed to be held, and Jamie wanted him, maybe he even needed him. How long had it been since he'd ever had someone want him, or wish to touch him? Pitch sighed closing his eyes and concentrating on the slow rhythmic rise and fall of Jamie's chest and the unbreakable grip possessively pulling him back into the man who had claimed him.
"You're beautiful; to me. That's all that matters because no one else is going to love you like I do. You're mine, and you'll always be mine," the rich words carried weight. Jamie believed them, so why shouldn't he?