A/N: G'day mate. This is just a WARNING, some violent and possibly upsetting images. I don't think anyone will have a problem and there's nothing very horrible in here, but my opinion may not reflect your own.

Chapter Fourteen

Lunchtime 12:00

Damien's Point of View

Hiding from me is impossible. Resistance is pointless. If I'm after someone, I find them. If I want someone, I have them. Then what made Kenny McCormick think he could keep a secret from me? Desperation. Singing songs in his head when I was nearby, repeating phrases, quotes, anything to cover up what he was truly thinking. However we all know the impossibility of banishing a thought, hopelessly trying to forget that which we want to hide, it doesn't work. Thus the name 'Kyle Broflovski,' bounded before my eyes. I had been disobeyed, a rule had been broken, and the person I supposedly controlled had gotten too close to someone else. Punishment was in order.

That's what brought me to wait outside the blond boy's classroom, clutching his scrawny wrist as he emerged out, grasping hard enough to produce another bruise. The look of panic in his face, that's what I love. Being in complete control of someone: I'm living the dream. I dragged him to the hut and he obeyed, all his spirit rapidly draining. Opening the door I threw him inside pulling his hoody roughly off over his head and slamming him face down onto the table, handcuffing his wrists to its legs, leaving him powerless to move. That brings me to the present moment in time.

"You've been bad Kenny McCormick," I purr into his ear whilst stroking his hair, I can feel him flinching under my touch, the transaction between love and hate has been completed.

"Only in your fucked up brain would helping a friend be considered bad," spits out Kenny. I'm pleasantly shocked at this response; it seems I have spirit to burn out of him yet. Still stroking his hair I slowly make my way to the top of the table so that I'm standing in front of him, I crouch down twisting my hand into a section of his hair and yank it up so our eyes are locked.

"Ah but I didn't give you permission to do that did I?" I stare with my piercing red eyes into his shockingly light blue ones.

"I'm not your slave; you can't stop me from seeing my friends."

"Don't you see Kenny? That's exactly what you are and that's exactly what I'm going to do." I let go of his hair causing his head to fiercely drop back down on the hard wood of the table. "You need to learn that I own you, you can't offer yourself as comfort to someone, even if it's only a shoulder to cry on. I don't care how upset your faggy little pals are." I glance at his wrists, the cuts made from my trusty handcuffs, ultimate sledging, that made me laugh. I delicately caress my finger over a cut tracing its shape, I proceed to dig my nail into it and continue to trace, this time re-opening the wound. I watch as the crimson blood starts to leak out, bending down I lap up the blood feeling it sizzle on my hot tongue; I do this because it used to cause Kenny such unspeakable pleasure, now the love has gone he can feel the pain he used to ignore. "You did agree for me to be in possession of you."

"I was a fool."

"You were a fool, a homosexual loved up little fool."

"I'm not a homosexual."

"You clearly are."

"I could never love you."

"You did and you signed yourself over to me."

"I will never belong to you." I can only conclude that this sudden bravery has come from his night with the Broflovski boy; he doesn't feel as alone anymore.

"I know that you think Kyle cares about you, that he wants you around, but he was only using you." I'm feeding on his doubts and insecurities, knowing that this is what he worries about most, he's thinking about the fact I'm probably right. "When Stan visited this hut he obviously didn't care enough to notice your distress, if yesterday is going to prove anything to you it should prove how alone you are."

"Fuck you," he yells. I sigh dramatically and walk around the table so I'm facing his back; carefully I slip his t-shirt over his head, leaving it stretched over his arms, bare skin now exposed. I lean forward, face slowly edging forward until my lips make contact with his shoulder blade, I blow hot air over the skin and watch as it turns red, heating up. I move my lips across to the area of skin just to the right of the shoulder blade. I drag my tongue up this area, burning in a small line as I do so. The temperature and hardness of my tongue is the equivalent to a sharp metal poker that has been left in a scorching hot fire for many hours. From the top of the scalded line on Kenny's skin I create a semi circle, slowly digging my tongue deeper and deeper into his skin causing him to finally break down into screams of agony. The finished result shows the letter D.

I continue to do this as Kenny squirms and shrieks in pain beneath me, no one will hear him. When I'm done I trace my fingers across the engraved letters. "Perhaps this will prove who you belong to." I dig my nails into the first letter and listen as Kenny screams in shock at the sting. "D- A-M," I slowly pronounce as I scratch into the burns, "I-E-N." I stand back and admire my name perfectly formed in blood and burns on the blonds' back, "You belong to DAMIEN."

A/N: Cheers, K+C next time. xx