A/N: There isn't much for me to say but to apologize in advance for messing this chapter up. Also, there are a number of people I'd like to thank because I wouldn't be able to survive this part of it wasn't for them: Perfectweapon9 for the link of the KuroKura doujin that helped me through the scene. I kind of found the artist of it: turns out she's the one who drew the image cover I currently use (without permission). She is reading the Chinese translation of SD (we all have to thank her: her work Phone Call by Moca-chan can be found in myreadingmanga website is a proof that KK doujins aren't myths, and they do exist. To Moca-chan, thank you so much!). To Serenechaos on AO3 for the insightful suggestions. To 枕酒漱石 (Daiju-san) for making the first ever Still Doll fanart (you may find her works at her homepage at xinyueyueyuekaixin at Lofter *ffnet doesn't allow me to add the link to the chapter). Guys, it's smoking hot. I really, really love it. Her other illustrations are so beautiful. And lastly, to rainquiet/burntlime for the dedication to translate SD in Chinese. To you guys are my gratitude. You are the best.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HXH.

BETA: None.

Chapter 19: A Miscalculated Bargain

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The foul smell of Meniandro's bloody remains and Kurapika's unstable state of mind left him paralyzed and unable to react when Kuroro roughly shoved him to the bed. The way his strong grip snagged unforgivingly on his arm to force him into sitting down the bed suggested haste, even irritation. He landed on the mattress with a creak and his heart sank into dread of what was coming his way.

A room full of lascivious materials, a huge bed no doubt had been used by many, both willing and victims for sexual practices, a man-sized bowl containing guts and bile of a dead person pooled in fresh blood, and a mass murderer, serial killer looming close to him who was about to defile him in horrendous ways. Everywhere he looked reminded him of the very bad decision he had made due to his inability to control his anger properly. The implications of it all dawned to him as Kuroro stood right in front of him to block his sight as he continued to look at Meniandro. Upon Kuroro's harsh yank of his coat, Kurapika found strength and urge to fight back and resist as he couldn't—didn't want to do this anymore. It was all too much. He tried to pry Kuroro's hands away and push the bastard but Kuroro was adamant about demonstrating his true power tonight. All he did was swat his hands away and go on with forcibly stripping him of his clothes.

"Don't touch me!" Kurapika vehemently spat and glared so murderously at Kuroro as if his life depended on it.

Kuroro was undeterred— in fact, he became even more aggressive and nearly tore his shirt. There was a loud splitting rip of fabric as Kurapika tried to get away from Kuroro's hands which were dogged to peel him off of his clothes. The bastard was unnervingly silent with blank expression plastered in his face. Kurapika attempted to stand up and kick Kuroro when he wrapped his hand around Kurapika's neck, tightened the clutch then rammed him down the bed. Still, Kuroro had that uncaring look in his eyes while watching Kurapika clawing at the strangling hand and started to have trouble breathing.

"We have a deal, don't we?" Kuroro reminded with his chilling voice. It was so cold it sent chills down his spine. "'Teach Meniandro a lesson he will never forget until he die, and I'll let you do whatever you want to me for a night.' This is what both agreed to do, yeah?"

Kurapika wanted to retort but couldn't do so with Kuroro's cold hand gripping on his throat. Yes, he did give that offer and was willing to comply— if he didn't unnecessarily kill Meniandro. He was a man of his words; he was willing to give in that much if only for a night if he wasn't inside this horrible place, surrounded by death, along with this homicidal man whom with a few nudge of his fingers could kill him through asphyxia.

Kurapika would be in a big trouble if he wouldn't be able to remove Kuroro's hand from his neck. He was about to lose consciousness when he resorted to summoning his chain— which successfully stopped Kuroro from choking him— but not from landing at punch squarely to his unguarded stomach. Kurapika whizzed out and breathed in for air and huddled into a ball in pain. He groaned and attempted to get on his feet— when he felt a violent, sharp pain of something like a needle piercing through the fabric of his sleeve to the skin of his arm. He whipped his head up in horror to see Kuroro holding a syringe that contained a yellowish colored liquid, deeply digging into his flesh, and it was all too late to stop him when Kuroro pushed the plunger and injected the unknown drug to his body.

Filled with fury and dread, he pushed Kuroro away with his syringe-stricken arm and he backed away a few steps from him. Kurapika stood up and pulled out the injection from his arm then flung it to the floor, looking incredulously at the bastard who simply straightened up, unaffected by Kurapika's shove and still wearing that cold, poker face.

"What the hell is that drug you gave to me!?" Kurapika bellowed, stepping away from Kuroro.

"You can relax. It's just a tranquilizer. Meniandro owned an impressive, complete stash of these sexual stimulants. He even had a variety of aphrodisiac substances," Kuroro answered with a flat voice that matched his unsympathetic gaze.

"What?" Kurapika could only gasp out in exasperation and disbelief. "No," he hissed, gripping at his arm. His eyes turned a brighter shade of red in an instant and he tried materializing his chain again but wasn't able to as Kuroro closed in on him in a blink of an eye, looming and fast and overwhelming, and before he could react he stood rooted on his spot as their eyes met and felt the tremendous, sinister aura roiling about the man. With this close scrutiny, Kurapika received the full blown killing intent directed right into him, and there was nothing he could see in those eyes, in that stance, and the aura leaking all over Kuroro but—

'Death.'

Kuroro was going to kill him. Right now. He was standing still just like that, but Kurapika knew that at the moment his hands moved, he would die. Without being able to defend himself. Not even being able to twitch a finger. The murderous aura continued to surround him, it was so powerful that Kurapika felt bare despite his own nen surrounding his body.

He abruptly found it hard to breath. He felt heavy, drowsy, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He was suddenly hot, he shuddered a bit despite of the heat. This wasn't caused by Kuroro's intimidating demeanor anymore.

Shit. The drug was starting to take effect.

His knees buckled. But before they gave away, Kuroro raised a hand, slapped his cheek with the back of it, and Kurapika swayed to the side and landed on the floor with half of his body hitting the edge of the mattress. He tasted blood in his mouth and felt the sting of pain lingered on his cheek.

He intended to get on his feet and counterattack, but his legs, his whole body, just wouldn't cooperate. There was a strange sensation of heat that slowly coursed through under his skin, and his breath became labored. His cheek reddened, his heartbeat hammered so fast he could almost hear it. These... these involuntary body reactions were certainly not effects of his sudden fear towards Kuroro and his violence. And when Kuroro languidly squatted next to him and pulled at his hair to forcibly make his look at his face, Kurapika realized.

"That... That isn't just a tranquilizer," Kurapika grunted, pain registering as Kuroro's fingers tightened against his scalp.

"Smart boy," Kuroro only complimented.

He let out a sharp yelp when Kuroro yanked his hair up as he stood. He grabbed at Kuroro's wrist and willed his legs to move to prevent him from hauling him up purely by pulling his hair. Kuroro carelessly dumped him on the bed like he was just a sack of potatoes, and flicked his hand to get rid of the strands that were plucked out from his head. Kurapika feebly dropped on the mattress; he ran a hand through his hair and pressed on the painful patch of scalp. He absently curled up to suppress the worsening heat and the other weird sensations now building up inside him. He writhed with a shuddered breath, and everything felt just so terrible.

Whatever that tranquilizer slash aphrodisiac Kuroro dosed him with was strong— it wasn't something his nen or willpower could handle. He was so filthy needy right now, and the towering urge was tearing him apart.

But Kurapika refused to give up. He refused to let Kuroro see how much the drug affected him even if it was all over his actions. He breathed in deep, hoping it could alleviate the extreme feeling of his body as if it was on fire. It was useless.

He barely noticed Kuroro moving to the foot of the bed and tugged both of his legs to position him properly on it. Kurapika sluggishly moved them in resistance, even tried to kick Kuroro again, but failed as they just limply fell on the mattress, parted. The unsightly bulge on his crotch was revealed, so he rolled to a side to curl again. Kuroro stepped back and looked around, seemingly searching for something. His eyes lingered on the selection of leather straps slung on the wall. He went over them as he found his pick, and took a sling leather strap with a pad and two loops at each end. Kurapika didn't exactly know how that sling worked, but he had an inkling about how it should be used.

Kuroro returned to the bed and tossed the item next to Kurapika's leg before he reached to the right side of the bed's edge. There, he slid his fingers from the uppermost edge along the side until it stopped, rummaged on there then pulled a piece of black strap with a cuff attached to its tip. Terror slithered through Kurapika again. He was reminded of his first night with Kuroro. He was going to be tied and raped again. Again.

Kuroro grabbed his right wrist, his clutch was hard and tight it hurt. Kurapika attempted to get away from the cold grip but Kuroro's hand was just so firm and ruthless. Kuroro slipped his hand in and adjusted the cuff so it would fit snugly around it. He moved to the left side of the bed and did the same.

Kurapika chose not to speak, he had enough of begging. He didn't want to give in, but there was hardly he could do. With both his hands restrained, he turned his head to a side and pressed his cheek against the covers.

He had inflicted this to himself. He should have expected the worst the moment he decided to ask for Kuroro's help in dealing with Meniandro. It was hypocritical of him. He warned Meniandro about what Kuroro was capable of doing, but he didn't impose the warning to himself.

He noticed how strangely clammed up Kuroro was. He wasn't looking at Kurapika with that murderous glare anymore. In fact, his eyes were blank. The giddiness and annoying amused glint in his eyes whenever they had sex wasn't present. His dark eyes were peering down on him, but Kuroro seemed to be looking somewhere faraway. Kurapika couldn't understand why but he could tell... he could tell that Kuroro was occupied with something else other than this bondage play.

... Perhaps he should just give in, Kurapika mused. It was futile, and he deserved this. Kuroro did the end of their bargain, even needlessly went the extra mile, and he should do the same. He was tired from the whole debacle. He was lustful as a cat in heat. Kuroro's demonstration of one of his nen abilities was enough warning for him to know that should he resisted more, there would be consequences that he wouldn't like. The tranquilizer rendered his muscles numb and heavy he felt as if he was being pressed down by a deadweight. Every attempt to escape and defend himself was fruitless. That was how overpowering and merciless Kuroro was.

Kurapika belatedly noticed that he was panting rather visibly. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, he felt feverish and his cheek flushed beet red. He was intoxicated and the desire to be touched and be released coursed through his veins.

The shameful sense of relief almost made him moan when Kuroro undid his belt and slid his fingers under the waistband of his slacks before pulling it off of him. Kurapika looked away as he went for his underwear next.

Kuroro loosened his necktie and unbuttoned his shirt unnervingly slow; he looked at him thoroughly with eyes focused yet seemingly empty.

Hopelessness and exhaustion gnawed at Kurapika, now that he was almost naked and in a compromising position in front of his sworn enemy. Enough was enough. He would be a certified fool if he continued his otiose protest. He was now way past of his throwing a fit stage, with his body resembling a limp doll with how uncooperative it was. This wasn't the first time, Kurapika reminded himself. It wasn't the first time Kuroro forced him into bondage, or hurt him in order to get under his clothes, or showed off his combat and immobilizing prowess to repeatedly let him see how huge their gap when it came to their abilities. It was clear as ice: Kuroro was generously letting Kurapika live, and for a single reason at that.

To be his plaything.

Kurapika then settled down, not bothering to care about how he looked with his legs fallen and wide open. He pinned his gaze on the giant bowl with the streak of Meniandro's blood drying on the transparent, circular wall, remembering how Indoor Fish devoured him while he let out bloodcurdling screams. His mind played an unpleasant imagery of himself being on Meniandro's place instead. What would he do should Kuroro use Indoor Fish on him? He wondered if Chain Jail would work on it. It was a shame that he didn't get to test and see if it would.

Kuroro retrieved the looped sling on his side, he heard the faint rustling of the blanket as he did so, and hovered above him. He slipped a hand behind his head, lifted it then placed the padded part of the sling at the back of his neck. Ah, Kurapika figured it right. They were thigh cuffs.

Kuroro grabbed his right ankle, inserted it into one of the loops and slid it up until it reached the back of his knee and did the same with the left leg.

Cold draft of air touched Kurapika's mortifyingly exposed skin. It sent chills down his spine, with his thighs cuffed and parted, suspended in the air while the back of his neck began to hurt for bearing the weight of his limbs. His crotch and buttocks were on full display, his length twitched and pulsated as the aphrodisiac's effect had taken over his system. Kuroro removed his hands from him as he completed the preparation, eyes probing over Kurapika's naked state. Kurapika couldn't take it anymore; he looked away and closed his eyes, wishing it all to be over soon.

There was a movement, and Kurapika felt Kuroro get off the bed. He was left in such debasing position, bound by leather on a bed with a forming bruise on the cheek and abdomen. He was fairly groggy. He blearily opened his eyes to see if Kuroro was going to leave him just like that to torment him even more when he saw him reaching for the drawer of the bedside table. He recalled when Meniandro revealed that he had a bottle of champagne hidden in it. Kuroro seemed to know it as well. He took it out along with a glass from the compartment, poured some of the alcohol and stopped before it reached half of the glass. He placed the champagne bottle on the table without bothering to recap it, opened a small bottle that contained a similar looking drug he used to Kurapika, and dribbled a few drops on the liquor before swirling the glass by his hand. The drug completely combined with the drink and Kuroro swigged it in one go without leaving a drop then slammed the glass down the table.

Kurapika didn't understand. It didn't make sense to him at all. Kuroro was going to use the same aphrodisiac substance on himself? Why? Was it for endurance? Ferocity? To arouse and induce his hormones to go full throttle tonight? Why? Wasn't all the violence and mortification not enough to turn him on? Weren't all of these for that? Kurapika thought Kuroro would go back to the bed and impale himself to him right away but he didn't. He languidly strolled across the bed, to the organizer where the assortments of adult toys and stimulators were showcased. Kuroro took a piece or two from the display. He was holding a phallic shaped vibrator that wasn't that big and a bottle of presumably lubricant.

It couldn't get any worse than this but it did. Anger and panic sparked in him and lent him a bit of energy and urge to resist. There's no way in hell he would let Kuroro go that far and treat him like a worthless whore. He tried to summon his chain again and it appeared... only to deactivate again. He was so intoxicated physically that he couldn't maintain it for long.

Kuroro inched closer, but Kurapika didn't stop trying to activate his chain.

"It's useless," Kuroro stated the obvious, riling up Kurapika even more. "We both knew you're not getting away from this no matter what you do."

"That... that doesn't mean I... I should let you do as you please with me..." Kurapika whizzed out.

Kuroro opened the lubricant bottle and squeezed an ample amount on his hand. Fingers wet and sticky, he touched Kurapika's shaft and grabbed his length, running his rough palm up to his tip back down to the sacs then tightened his grip there, forcing a wince out of Kurapika's mouth.

"Really?" Kuroro did a slow and torturous pumping, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the sensitive spot of his tip. Kurapika's increasing sexual drive worsened; some more of that pumping and rubbing and he would come.

Kuroro seemed to sense that, the twitching of his organ being an indication, and let go to stop him from reaching climax. He re-applied the lubricant on his hand then tended to his opening next, swabbing the liquid on it before slipping two fingers in.

Kurapika felt the familiar painful stabbing sensation on his hole and repressed at yelp. Kuroro slid his fingers in up to the hilt, pulled out then did it again.

"I am entitled to do whatever I want to you tonight, and I expect you to keep up with it. It's what we have agreed in exchange for my help, isn't it?"

Kurapika gasped aloud when Kuroro inserted three fingers in. The flesh that had healed after their one month abstinence was stretched and it hurt so much. Kuroro stilled and left in fingers deeply sunk before moving it, opening him up even more, and inflicted pain that had Kurapika whimper from ache and pleasure.

The clanking of the straps being tugged on the edges of the bed as Kurapika subconsciously moved his arms was degradingly erotic. Kurapika panted, looking blankly up the ceiling, eyes were brilliant red and watery. He was so angry, he was filled with self-pity and shame but above all else, he was being eaten by the desire to be impaled by Kuroro. For him touch him and let him come until he wrung him dry.

Kuroro removed his fingers, and Kurapika heard himself exhale in relief and disappointment. The painful, unleashed release on his crotch was left unattended, and it throbbed in protest. Kurapika looked down and saw Kuroro now holding the black phallus shaped item, pouring some lubricant on it, before pressing its slippery tip on his puckered opening.

"No!" Kurapika shakily murmured. "Please. Stop this madness. I can't take it anymore."

"... You said you'd rather have Meniandro," Kuroro recounted, voice flat and implicitly angry. "If you traded with him to get the eyes, you'd have to put up to this kind of act. Who knows, maybe something even worse. So let this be a reminder," Kuroro pushed the vibrator in without a warning, he didn't stop even when Kurapika screamed, "that none of you will get away from me should you let anyone other than me touch you this way."

Kurapika shivered, screwed his eyes shut and let out a repressed yelp. The penetrating object felt uncomfortable, yet it somehow pleased his adrenaline driven nerves. Kuroro pressed it down further and pain and discomfort tore at the budding pleasure inside him. He tugged at the cuffs and held back a weak whimper, tried to close his legs but Kuroro only clutched at his thigh and spread them again.

Kuroro moved a tad bit closer to him and placed his knees under Kurapika's folded legs, preventing him from closing them again. Watching him plunging into despair from such angle, Kuroro held his length and gave it slow yet thorough pumps.

The towering sense of pending climax returned, more ferocious than before, with Kuroro boosting the pumps up. He somehow turned the vibrator on while creating a delicious pace and it triggered his arousal so strong Kurapika burst into another scream.

The bastard must have put the vibrator on max, Kurapika's inside throbbed and numbed with how fast it quivered. He bit his lips to stop himself from making any more sounds, but the shaken moans and pants still came out with every breath he took. The vibrator was touching a certain spot that just drove him crazy, it must be custom-made to reach that and stimulate pleasure. With the continuous rubs and incessant vibrations, Kurapika was all but on the height of his orgasm, he squirmed and flailed and whined before exploding right into Kuroro's hand, his release spilled and dribbled down his stomach. It was thick and rather plenty.

He never felt this satisfied and humiliated before.

When the last drop slid down his length, Kuroro let him go and carelessly pulled out the vibrator, briefly inflicting yet another pain and pleasure sensation. Flushed and out of breath, Kurapika stared up the ceiling in attempt to compose himself right after that intense climax. But Kuroro was obviously not having any of that and hovered above him before shoving in with one quick thrust.

Kurapika looked at him wide eyed, seeing him on top of his body and boring that vacant look as Kuroro reveled at his scarlet eyes and terrified expression.

Kuroro cast his hands under Kurapika's knees and pushed up, granting more access for his length to penetrate his opening. It went almost smoothly and as he got Kurapika's full attention, he began to ram him up and down.

Kurapika closed his eyes and turned away as Kuroro impatiently thrust in and out of him. It gathered speed and once again Kurapika was in need to feel released. His spent length was slowly aroused into half erection, and the desire to feel the familiar burst of warmth inside whenever Kuroro came into him burned in him. Kurapika's body was craving for his seeds. That was the first time ever, for him to want that feeling of being marked and owned that he detested the most.

Finish it off. Finish it off. Shoot that trickle desire and fill him up. Kurapika never felt so scared and demanding like this before. That forsaken aphrodisiac tranquilizer was the root of sin that was Kurapika's relentless lust right now.

Kuroro remained... distant. Looking back at their previous sessions, Kuroro had a knack for starting things up with a kiss. Regardless if it was to tease, if it was on the neck, cheek, or straight to the lips, he usually started it with the smoldering look before sticking those damn lips into anywhere he felt like it. It was like that first sniff and sip of a refined wine. Kurapika just realized then that Kuroro had a habit of tasting a bit of him first before taking a whole bite.

That didn't happen tonight.

Not that Kurapika wanted Kuroro to kiss him. He just noticed. He couldn't help but note since Kuroro seemed to be into kisses which was implied by their first nights.

Tonight was remarkably different. Kuroro's face was far from his, hovering just up there while looking down on him. He got on with the thrusting with constant speed that almost felt like he was being penetrated by something mechanical. It was harsh and fast... but it lacked passion if he were to compare it to Kuroro's usual style.

His eyes showed no compassion nor pleasure. They were just... hallowed. It was like he was detached and devoid of emotion. A savage beast without mercy in human's clothing. He wouldn't listen to reasons and pleads, and would destroy, kill and devour indiscriminately. That was the kind of a demon he was.

That... was when Kurapika lost his remaining will to fight back. This man, these very hands now touching him and those eyes that were giving him a soulless gaze, was the same monster that tortured and killed his brethren. It was like he was having a first hand experience of how they died in Kuroro's hands.

The family members were said to be forced to sit facing each other and were stabbed then beheaded, still alive. Children had merciless wounds on their bodies to incite the eyes of their parents to turn a more brilliant shade of red.

He could almost see it. An epitome of a living hell with the forest burning and people scrambling about to protect the young ones, with all the men fighting with all they got against Ryodan who likely had learned nen back then. Kurapika didn't stand a chance against Kuroro despite being a nen-user; how could powerless children defend themselves against him? They could only freeze in fear and cry in pain while they bled and not die because the tormentors were purposely delaying it. They could only wonder why was this happening, and why wasn't the man with the book on his hand and a weapon on the other wouldn't listen no matter how much they plead. Why was this being done to them? What did they do wrong? Was being a Kuruta and having eyes that turn red a bad thing so people from the outside lands wanted them killed?

Was being a Kuruta a curse?

He was being treated like a sex doll right now to incite his eyes and instill fear in him, being forced to come and feel dirty and undignified, making him realize that there was nothing he could do and no one would come and save him. All because he was a Kuruta. They were killed and ridiculed so much just because of such small difference.

How much of this sufferings the Kuruta clan had to endure until the end?

Kuroro finally came, Kurapika didn't notice that he climaxed for the second time without being touched. He looked blankly to the side, scarlet eyes gleaming so bright and brimming with welling red tears. He blinked and they dropped down across the bridge of his nose and the side of his eyes.

He breathed in and involuntarily let out a sob. Tears began to accumulate in his eyelids and they continued to slide down despite his effort to stop them. These tears were one of the causes why he was being mistreated this badly. But they just wouldn't stop. He just couldn't stop.

Kuroro pulled out and went still for a while before unlatching the thigh cuffs from his limbs. Kurapika let his legs slip down the mattress, parted, with hands both fallen to the side of his head.

Kuroro reached out for his chin and turned his face to look above. Their eyes met, Kuroro's had a grave glint and Kurapika's still in their vibrant crimson and wet with tears.

"No one else is to touch you this way from now on," Kuroro growled with a threatening glare. "You are mine. Do I make myself clear?"

With his mind wishing nothing but for everything to come to its end and a broken soul that didn't seem to have a hope to be mended, Kurapika gave a weak and compliant nod.