Disclaimer: Jesus Christ, this is mundane…don't own.

A/N:I'm back! Run and hide bitches. Heh, just kidding, I love you guys. Anyways, as I've said before, Derek is a bastard in my fic, and no, there is no redeeming chapter where he realizes that he's truly in love with Casey and they live happily ever after. Let's be realistic here. However, come on, isn't my Derek a little more fun as a sadistic bastard rather then when he's caring and loveable?…..eh, at least I think so….not that caring and loveable Derek is bad. ducks flying objects…Heh, I sound like Machiavelli.

Whoa, and by the way... I had no idea I was nominated for best dark fic and best author...I stumbled upon it the other day and was like "Holy shit, fuck up the characters and you win a prize!"...anyways, thanks for that.

Cheers and much love!

TillThatTime

Warnings: Smexy darkness!

Toy

"Let me fuck you."

His lips are pressed to the shell of her ear and as his warm breath ghosts over her sensitive skin she shudders. "Come on dear sister, let me fuck you so hard into that mattress right over there." Without so much of a turn of his head, he points lazily to the mattress adorned with her blankets and decorative throw pillows. "So hard that the next time Sam fucks you on that bed it will be my name that slips from your pretty, little tongue."

He runs the tip of his thumb gently against her gloss-stained lips in what appears to be mock fondness before she jerks her head away in apparent disgust. He lets out a harsh, humorless laugh before tapping his finger against the tip of her nose. "Tsk tsk, Casey, that's not very polite."

"Get out." Her voice is cold as she points towards the door.

Before she can say anything he snakes his hands around her waist before coming to rest on the underside of her ass, pulling her hips roughly against his own. She lets out a gasp that cannot be fully blamed on surprise and his smirk widens, stretching his lips into that familiar look that she hates so much. He leans his head down until his lips a barely touching hers and against her will she instinctively tries to close the distance, but he pulls just out of reach. So close that she feels his breath mingling with her own but too far to reach.

"Slut."

He says it so softly that she would not be able to hear it if she wasn't so close. He draws out the words, letting them slide like honey from the tongue of a snake. His voice is almost endearing, yet taunting and cruel in its false affection. He turns suddenly and without so much as another word or a glance in her direction he exits her room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

She lets her body slide to the floor, finally letting the legs that had been trembling ever since he had entered the room have their relief against soft carpet. She breathes out slowly, willing her body to calm, her expression to remain passive, and her mind to shut off completely.

But of course, neither of these wishes are granted.

A tear falls tauntingly down her cheek and she moves to brush it violently away, her nails scraping along the sensitive skin of her cheek. She bites her lip hard enough to draw the coppery taste of blood to ensure that the cry of rage and humiliation doesn't escape from her mind and out her mouth.

It would be so much easier if she didn't have to think.

If she didn't have her treacherous mind replaying images of his bruising grip on her hips or his even crueler sneer of domination. When her mother had told her that she was to be moving in with the Venturis never had she thought that it would turn out like this. Never had she thought that she would become the abused plaything that always seems to ask for more. Whenever Derek needs a good, hard fuck he always comes to Casey, because with her he doesn't have to work for it. He doesn't have to make false promises of devotion and love. He doesn't have to treat her like a real person, with respect and care. All he has to do is want her and she comes willingly like some bitch in heat.

She's his favorite toy.

She used to pride herself for her independence. She used to be someone who wouldn't take shit from anybody if she didn't have to, and with Derek she really doesn't have to, yet she jumps readily to his will. She's a former shell of the previous glorified Casey McDonald who's been willingly beat into submission. And why is that? Why does she throw away every notion that she's based her life on for a few sessions of fucking and cruel words?

Because it feels good.

"You love this feeling that you can't get anywhere else. Sam would never touch you the way I do, make you arch into it like the slut that I know is hiding under those modest clothes. You hate me, but at least I make you feel."

And that's true.

When Sam makes love to her that's exactly what it is, making love. He's gentle and sweet and always asks her if she's sure. His hands trail nervously against her skin as if she's delicate and he's afraid of breaking her, and she doesn't feel it. She wants to, needs to feel it, but she doesn't.

Derek fucks her.

His nips along her skin are demanding and harsh. His body pressed against hers is hard and unforgiving. And the tempo is fast and relentless or slow and taunting, but never kind, never sweet, never loving.

And God, it feels so good.

Sam persuades her lovingly into fake moans for his benefit.

Derek makes her scream.

He often refers to her as a masochist and though she loathes the bitter taste that that word leaves in her mouth, she cannot deny the fact that perhaps it's true. Doesn't a masochist crawl wantonly to the very hand that slaps them? Doesn't a masochist cry out for more in the face of cruel punishment? Doesn't a masochist long for the very pain that brings them so much pleasure?

Yes, she is indeed a masochist.

But it goes beyond that, because at some point they have to say no. It becomes too much and then the game is over, but for her it never ends. And she hates this foul game that she participates in, but she continues to step up to the plate. She hates him and he hates her, but they continue to play the lover's game. Him, for the power that only a sadist craves and her, for the pleasure that only a masochist desires.

"Slut"

Yes, she muses through her tears, that word fits perfectly.