Author's Notes: WARNING: Mature content!! If you are not old enough, or will take offense or otherwise do not care for such things, DO NOT READ. Period. Flames and other idiotic responses will not be tolerated. There is NO sexual content, but there are mature themes explored that stem from deviant practices and lifestyles.

Okay. Now that that's out of the way . . . HI! As stated in my bio, I am a happy member of the BDSM community, and this account was created to explore some of those practices in the context of fanfiction, specifically with my Pharaoh-kun. This fic was inspired by an icon made by fellow YGO fan, "skyla-doragono" (LiveJournal penname... and that dash should be an underscore but FFnet doesn't seem to like underscore). It is the icon I have on my bio page. The syntax sounded off to me – I tend to want to state the words in the opposite order in terms of alliteration, "silent and defenseless" – until I realized it was probably in that order to mimic another "D and S" combination, the BDSM concept and practice of "domination and submission," or "dom/me and slave (or submissive)." I was talking to a close friend and fellow YGO fan and lifestyler about the icon, and this story is the result. I hope you enjoy it as much as we have!

Disclaimer –"Yu-Gi-Oh!" and all related characters, events, and concepts belong to Takahashi Kazuki and any other related owners/distributors/producers. I get no monetary benefit from this. My benefit is the enjoyment of dealing with beloved characters.

"Defenseless and Silent"
by Shadow Master's Penalty

Chapter One – Submission

How could this have happened? How could he have let it happen? How could he have been so blind?

How could he have been so stupid?!

He sank to his knees, face buried in his hands, shaking with the sharp grief of loss. Swirling purple-black clouds of Shadow still flowed around him in the wake of his folly, writhing in their anger at him.

Yami had never before lost a Shadow Game. Neither had he initiated one in haste or in anger, not before he knew full well the situation and the conditions, but this time there had not been time to do so. He had had to act quickly and decisively . . . but he had misread the circumstances, and his decision had been wrong. And he had lost.

For the first time in his limited memory, Yami had lost a Shadow Game. When he initiated and won, it was he who determined his opponent's Penalty Game. He had always wondered what his Penalty Game, one inflicted by the very Shadows themselves, would be were he to lose. Now he knew. The empty ache in his heart was already too much to bear – an echoing hollowness where his aibou had stood until but a moment ago.

They had taken him! Why?! Yami's hands curled into fists as they dropped to his sides. Why had the Shadows taken Yugi's soul? Yugi was innocent of this! Or was it because the boy had failed to stop his "other heart," to hold back "his dark half"? But, no, that could not have been it. The Shadows tested a man's heart, knew the truth in a man's soul. The spirit of the Millennium Puzzle had taken the name "Yami" – "Darkness" – in the absence of knowledge of his true name because he and Yugi both had once thought he was merely a darker facet of Yugi's own personality, but they now knew this was not the case. They were two separate, albeit intimately linked, souls. And the Shadows had to know the same! So why had they levied Penalty on Yugi and not Yami? Well, true, by extension, Yami would suffer, but Yugi more immediately? It was not right! It was not just! The power of the Shadows was the power to weigh and judge a man's heart, and deal with him accordingly. The Shadows did not know grace or mercy, but they flowed with truth, righteousness and justice. Those traits were cold and impartial, to be sure, but there nonetheless.

But they had taken Yugi, leaving Yami in the body. Leaving Yami to mourn.

He would right this. He would right this! He did not know how, but he had to. For his aibou's sake, he had to . . . even though it meant taking on the very Shadows themselves.

He looked up, peering into the swirling depths of the purple-black vapors embracing him. A moment ago, he had not had presence of mind beyond his grief to wonder why they still surrounded him, after the conclusion of the Game, but now he questioned. Perhaps they had known his desire to test and challenge them before he himself had gotten as far in his own conscious reasoning? The Shadows knew a man's heart, after all.

The sound of footsteps startled him just then – the soft click-clack of a woman's low heels, from Yami's best guess. The stride was slow, or long. Yami could not tell which. He listened as the footsteps grew steadily louder, the unknown person closing the distance rather quickly. A form resolved out of the Shadows, emerging from the swirls almost as if conjured by them. It was indeed a woman, and not human. For one, she was too tall, maybe seven feet. Her skin, if not truly black, was a dark enough shade of smoky blue-gray to qualify. Her eyes were dark as well, black but not quite. Something shifted across the surfaces though, from where he knelt, he could not make out exactly what. Slightly pointed ears peeked from under long, wavy tresses, also black – of course, Yami could hardly help but note with a hint of sarcasm – loosely pulled back from her face. She wore a form-fitting dress of the deepest purple, matching the Shadows, of a style Yami thought a so-called "Goth" might wear, long enough to cover her feet, ribbon-trimmed hem brushing the ground.

She stopped a few yards from him, studying him, a hand on her hip accenting long nails. "Do you really want him back?" Her voice was low and firm, not a voice of stereotypical softness or "weakness" in any respect.

Yami stood, squaring his shoulders to face her, a hard mask settling over his features and his grief. "Who are you?" He had his suspicions, of course, but was not about to assume.

The woman's head tilted a little. "It is impolite to answer a question with a question."

Yami felt his chin tuck a bit in challenge, hands in loose fists at his sides. "Perhaps . . . but let me ask another, then, before I answer. What business is this of yours?"

He watched her eyes narrow. "You are the chosen of the Shadows, and you have made a grievous mistake. As an agent of the Shadows, it is my business to see to it that you do not abuse your power again."

Yami stiffened, breath catching in his throat. It was worse than he thought. She was indeed an embodiment of the Shadows . . . but they had not sent her to let him challenge them for Yugi's soul? And how exactly did she intend to "see" to this? A seed of fear implanted at the thought, and he could only hope it did not show in his eyes. The Shadows tested the heart, and those of weak hearts lost. He could not afford to allow his heart to be weak. Again. "See to it? How?"

The woman eyed him for a moment. "Do not make me ask my first question again."

Inwardly, Yami growled at her avoidance, but he supposed he could not blame her. She was not the one essentially on trial. He further squared his shoulders, bracing. "If you mean Mutou Yugi, I do." Yes, that clarification had to be made. It was best never to assume, even with the straightforward Shadows. "He is innocent of this. Any Penalty for this wrong should fall on my shoulders, not his. He should not be made to pay in my stead. There is no justice in that."

The woman gazed at him a long moment as though weighing the truth of his words. "I can return him to you . . . on one condition."

It was his turn to narrow his eyes. "Can . . . or will?" He would know for certain that the other end of any bargain would be met before even listening to terms.

"Will . . . if you can hold to the condition required."

Yami frowned at that. "If" I can . . . ? "What is the condition?"

"You must submit yourself to me, wholly and completely, serve the punishment that is rightly yours for losing an innocent soul."

Yami's eyes widened as he pulled back from her a bit. "'Submit' to you?" He swallowed, almost afraid to ask. "How so?"

A very slight smile graced her dark lips. "Your body, your freedom, and your will, Nameless One. You will submit to me, take my command and any punishment that I see fit. Do this, and your vessel will be returned to you."

A shudder went through him at her words. Enslave himself to her? Was that what she was saying? Was that . . . was that what the Shadows demanded of him? "F-for . . . " To his dismay, his voice ran out on him. He swallowed and tried again. "For how long?" His voice hardened a bit as he added, "And how do I know you will keep your word?"

"For seventy-two hours." Her face had returned to a neutral expression, but then that hint of a smile returned for a moment. "And because the Shadows are impartial and just. You of all people should know that."

Yami braced back from her, fists clenching. "The Shadows themselves are, yes . . . " Not that he was arguing that she would not be, but . . .

He was hesitating, and he knew it. She had demanded that he submit himself to her – body, freedom, and will. Frankly, he . . . was not sure he could, even if he wanted to. He knew that he was proud and willful to a fault. But this was not for himself. This was for his aibou . . . He could feel the fear growing in his heart at the reality of what he was going to have to do, of what he might have to submit to, might have to suffer . . .

"Shadows weigh the heart, Nameless One," the woman replied. "If I lie, then I will be judged."

Yami could not deny the truth of that. As she had said, he of all people knew how the Shadows operated. He began to tremble. His eyes met hers, and he wondered if she could read his fear in them. "Where is Aibou now? Is he all right? Is he under any kind of distress? What has happened to him?"

Her neutral expression did not waver. "That is not for you to know. You lost the right to know when you lost his soul."

He opened his mouth to reply, but what could he say to that? He bowed his head, fists clenching harder so that the nails bit into his palms, eyes closing in grief. His voice was barely audible even to his own ears. "Aibou . . . "

"Your answer?"

His eyes snapped up to her, grief and self-judgment washing through him. And fear. He tried to form words, a coherent thought, but nothing would come to his shocked mind.

She gazed back at him with cool eyes. "A 'no,' then? Your vessel will be disappointed." She turned and began to walk away.

That unlocked his mind, and he lurched, stepping toward her, reaching. "W-wait!" She stopped but did not turn or speak. "I-I . . . " He gulped, eyes closing. Aibou . . . Her words echoed in his mind. "Submit yourself to me: your body, your freedom, and your will. Take my command and punishment. For seventy-two hours." He shivered, trembling freely now. For his aibou, though – and to right this wrong and restore his honor – he would do just about anything. And had he not earned his own punishment?

Eyes still closed, head bowed, he forced the words through a throat tight with fear. "F-for . . . for Yugi's sake, for his safe return . . . I-I . . . I agree t-to your terms." Oh, gods . . . What would she do to him? And he could not even resist! But . . . not like he did not deserve this . . . whatever it may be . . . "I w-will – " His voice failed him. He gulped but was unable to steady it, getting the words out in a shaken whisper. " – s-submit . . . t-to you, agent of the . . . p-punishing Shadows."

Author's Notes: Please be sure to check my bio page for any updates, etc. Thanks!