Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!
A/N: Again, much thanks to everyone that reviewed—please keep them coming! One of my reviewers has requested I e-mail them when I update, if anyone else would like me to do that for them as well please tell me in a review.
"Bakura how COULD you!" Ryou burst out the second they passed the threshold of their bedroom, ending his tight-lipped, angry silence lasting the entire drive home. Personally, Bakura would have been happy for more quiet. He rounded on the pale boy, eyes like iced expresso, face showing mild annoyance that could very quickly escalate into full blown anger. Ryou shrank back, still upset, but taking Bakura's reminder of his place for what it was. He might be the white-haired vampire's hikari, but that didn't make him Bakura's equal. It guaranteed him his life under vampiric law, and that no other vampire could harm him, but officially he ranked a bare step above regular human slaves and quite a few below a Childing. Childings were newly created vampires, barely stronger than humans, and generally treated much like a human slave.
"You-you sold Malik to HIM. After all the stories you've told me about HIM, after you promised me to sell Malik to someone who wouldn't hurt him. . . ." Ryou continued in a quieter, much less accusing tone. "Who's to say he will? He isn't particularly cruel hikari, just horny and somewhat implusive." Bakura replied evenly. The pale teen collasped on the bed, head in his delicate hands, snowy hair slipping forward to form a silken curtain concealing his features. "You don't understand, you have no idea what Master did to him—the pain he endured. Malik doesn't deserve to go through that again! If he does it'll be MY fault!" Ryou cried, when he looked up there were wet glittering trails down his pale cheeks.
Guilt ate at his soul with razor teeth and voracious appetite, a steady continuous torture waking or sleeping. Why didn't I help him? Why did I just sit there and let Bakura feed? He asked himself, as he had on a daily basis for the last two months. No answer was forthcoming of course, his behaviour was simply inexcusable. He'd couldn't help Malik escape again either, not from the Palace, not when all valuable Palace slaves (and all hikaris period) had tiny rice-sized locator chips injected mere centimeters from their spines. The chip allowed a vampiric Master to track his slave anywhere in the world via satellite; a hideously expensive set-up since human tech and human technicians to control and care for the equipment was becoming ever scarce. No way to remove it either without possibly damaging the slave's spinal cord. "Shhhh, hikari, don't cry." Bakura soothed, sitting down next to the boy and pulling him into his lap.
Ryou cuddled close to the vampire, nuzzling Bakura's chest and breathing in his musky scent. Smiling, Bakura kissed the top of his head, lips tickled by hair soft as unspun bridal satin. Ryou sniffled, he didn't merit comforting, not after what he'd done to Malik. Even though he deserved it no one would punish him, and with the recent turn of events the psychological torture he put himself through no longer seemed enough. An idea flashed through his mind, a possible answer to his inner turmoil. If I can't help Malik. . . .I wonder. . . . it just might help. Ryou decided, feeling a little better as he snuggled against his yami. Now, to think on how, exactly, I should go about it. . . .
The vampire lounged indolently in the doorway, posing as if he expected a roving band of rabid papparazzi to wander by any second. Clearly, he was used to being admired. It took every iota of Malik's will to not gape like a bumpkin child on his first trip to the city. It took even more effort to smooth his features into a well-practiced, indifferent mask. He—he looks like ME! Indeed, except for more height and musculature, hair that defied gravity so badly it had to be lacquered in place, and darker eyes the resemblance was uncanny. Lips curled in a fangy smile his new owner strolled over, standing above the teen with an expetant air. Malik fought down the urge to scramble away as far as his chain would allow, something about this vampire shook him to his toes in a way no other had since his first Master's death. Maybe it was the semi-crazed look in his eyes, or the way he moved—smooth as oil sliding down polished glass.
The vampire sank into a fluid crouch, amused twilight amythest stared into frightened shadowed violet. Faster than a snake-strike he snatched up Malik's chain and yanked the boy close. "Cat got your tongue?" He murmured, smile widening. "Let's find out." Before Malik could so much as cry out the vampire pounced on him and smashed their lips together, pinning the slave's thrashing body with his larger one. A hot tongue speared between his tender lips, relentlessly exploring every nook and cranny of the wet cavern. "Nope, there's definitely a tongue there." The vampire chuckled, releasing a squirming Malik's lips, but still keeping a bruising grip on the smaller's chin. "Scared then? Of course you are—as you should be. I am Vampyre-Raj Marik (Vampire Prince), second only to the Vampyre-Ra (Vampire King), and your new Master." The boy's already racing heart sped faster at Marik's words. Oh gods! This nutjob is a fucking Vampire Prince?
"Nutjob? I'll have you know I'm quite sane. Kittens who say naughty things about their Masters should be punished." Marik huffed indignantly. "Y-you heard my thoughts?" Malik gasped, a horrible chill dread rolling down his spine. He'd never heard of a vampire with that ability, most people thought stuff like that were silly legends—like the sun being deadly for them. Untrue characteristics often made up by frightened peasants to lessen their fears. The vampire leaned forward, resting his lips against the teen's ear. "Of course, only the Vampire-Rajai (Vampire Royalty) have that talent—some more powerful than others." Marik delicately nipped Malik's earlobe, not enough to draw blood but enough to pinch the tender skin.
The boy swallowed a yelp, and shoved at the leather-covered chest with all his strength. Highly useless considering vampires were strong enough to juggle tombstones like foam balls. "Get OFF me!" He grunted, hating the breathy lilt at the end betraying his nerves. Dusk-purple eyes narrowed and darkened, Marik's grip shifting to the boy's slender throat, and slowly stood, Malik dangling from one bronze hand. His windpipe nearly crushed, Malik's eyes snapped wide, pure terror gushing through his veins as the weezing, gagging sounds of someone desperate for air poured from his mouth. Marik watched the human choke for a couple minutes, highly entertained by the various negative emotions flicking over the teen's handsome features before slamming Malik into the wall with enough force to crack the plaster. Thrusting his face barely a hair's width from the boy's Marik hissed: "Let's get something straight boy, you NEVER tell me what to do. I've never believed in that stupid yami/hikari shit, you're my slave and will never be anything else to me. Got it?"
Barely conscious, with vision darkening and his lungs feeling like overfilled bellows about to pop, he managed to nod. Marik smirked and released him. "Good." Malik lay in a trembling heap on the cold marble floor, gulping huge breaths of air into oxygen deprived lungs, feeling both his throat and back throb with the promise of spectacular bruises later. Oh my Ra! He almost killed me three minutes into our first meeting. He's gotta be worse than my last Master. I can't take that again, I just can't! I'd rather die. . . . Malik moaned internally, forgetting about the vampire's mind-reading abilities.
He flinched away from a light touch on his shoulder, unable to stop a frightened whimper from escaping and hating himself for the show of weakness. Marik would have none of that. He drew the shivering human slave into his arms and very gently began stroking his back, igniting the small bit of Healing power within him to fix the damage he caused. "Now, now pet it's not so bad as all that. If you obey me and don't talk back I won't hurt you. I only punish my pets when they're naughty. I might have been a little hard on you just now kitten." Malik squeezed his eyes shut and sat rigidly in the larger male's embrace. You think! He snapped mentally, not daring to say such a thing out loud, but again not recalling the vampire's talents in his current dazed state.
"I haven't yet given you my rules, so I can't expect you to follow what you don't know." Marik went on, continuing to stroke the boy soothingly, though he wasn't sure why he bothered with even a quasi-apology. The human WAS just a slave after all—a very cute slave with a tight little ass that begged to be fucked—but still just a slave.
Speaking of fucking. . . .a decidely WICKED smile curled the Raj's lips. I think it's time I play with my new pet. he thought, anticipation coaxing an eager throb from his nether regions. Marik looped a muscular arm around the boy's abdomin and jerked the smaller body tight to his, forcing Malik's ass against his groin. Malik tensed, breath coming faster as he felt Marik's erection through the leather covering both their lower bodies. "I suppose I should go over the rules then shouldn't I?" The vampire breathed into the teen's ear, voice low and husky, making him shiver. "Rule #1: You do everything I say when I say and without question. When I say everything, I mean anything and everything—no matter how much you may hate it" To emphasize his point or possibly give an example Marik started rubbing Malik's belly in slow, ever widening circles heading straight for the teen's manhood. "Rule #2: You will address me as 'Master' and you will keep your tone civil at all times. Actually, here's where Rule# 3 comes in—you won't speak unless spoken to or asked a direct question." Malik gasped as Marik's fingers teased the waist band of his shorts. "Feel free to whimper and scream as the situation dictates however." Marik added with dangerous nonchalant. "Rule# 4: No one may touch you with fang, cock, or hands unless I say so."
Malik tensed as silken lips nuzzled his throat, Marik's tongue stroked over the flesh, leaving slick trails of wet heat. "You are mine little one, my pet, my slave, to do with as I please." The vampire churred between licks. Malik swallowed hard, he didn't like where this was going but he daren't resist. He almost forgot that when Marik's hand began teasingly inching beneath his waistband, the fingers hot and probing against the delicate skin. The human shuddered, hands convulsing into white-knuckled fists as he forced himself to allow the violation of his person to continue unchecked. He needed to pick his battles carefully, fighting only when the conflict was worth it, swallowing his revulsion at the rest. Marik had already demonstrated his less than sane mental state, that he wasn't above killing in the heat of anger.
Malik knew the laws concerning AB negatives wouldn't apply to a Vampyre-Raj, royalty was above obeying laws that bound commoners. Marik's hand slid lower, nearly at it's goal. Panic swamped Malik's senses, strangling the breath in his throat, his control fading rapidly and making it difficult for him to sit quietly. Hadn't he just reminded himself about choosing battles carefully? Adrenaline rushed through his veins, steadily wearing away at his self-control like floodwaters at a riverbank. The boy'd nearly convinced himself to strike Marik and flee the room--hang the consequences--when a soft knock sounded at the door. "Fuck!" Marik exploded, unceremoniously dumping Malik off his lap and stalking to the carved wooden portal. "What!" He snapped at the short boy with a spiking bush of tri-colored hair in black, magenta, and blonde waiting on the other side. "Sorry to interrupt you Raj Marik but Yami needs you in the Main Conference Room." He informed the Raj diffidently, face generically polite. The vampire growled a few heated curses in a language Malik didn't know. "Ra-damned Pharaoh, it's getting to the point he can't take a piss without consulting me on how to do it." Yugi waited serenely, obviously used to Marik's tantrums. "All right, FINE, I'm coming already." Snarled Marik. "As for you—" He briefly turned towards his new slave. "—we'll finish playing tonight." He promised menacingly, shoving Yugi ahead of him and slamming the door after himself so hard it shuddered on it's hinges. Malik lay sprawled unmoving on his backside, staring blankly at the vibrating door. Oh Ra, what have I fallen into this time?