One more chapter of flashback after this one. Thank you again for reading and especially for the reviews!
…~Week Four~...
Everything has a breaking point. The moment at which something has taken as much strain as it possibly can handle before it finally gives in to the pressure. For Izaya, it was a dream. A dream which, when he woke had brought his entire world crashing down.
It was Shizuo. In his dream, the man he hated to love had burst through the door of her prison in a rage—a rage, for once, not directed towards Izaya, but rather towards his captor.
"I can't believe he did this to you!" the dream-Shizuo had said, "Come on, I'm getting you out of here."
Tears of relief had formed in Izaya's eyes as he reached out for the man standing before him.
Please… he thought, take me far away from here, Shizu-chan…
Shizuo's arms wrapped around him and he felt a warmth and gentleness unlike anything he had experienced before.
He couldn't express the joy he felt with words…
And then it was torn away from him.
Lackluster eyes opened and were greeted by darkness. He was cold. Hands shaking, he wrapped the rag he had been given tightly around himself. The rough "blanket" was a reward for his good behavior.
Shizuo wasn't coming for him. Nobody was coming for him. Even if someone was looking, he didn't exactly leave a trail to be followed.
Nobody was coming.
He would never be rescued from this hell.
He would never escape.
Forced to be a slave until he finally dropped dead. The end of his horrible existence. Whether there was an afterlife or not, Izaya found himself longing for death. Anything but here.
Tears filled his eyes and began falling freely. He would be stuck here until he died. That was it. The idea began to sink in and he began to mourn for the life he would never be able to have again. In the midst of it all, Shizuo's face drifted back into his thoughts and a sharp pain filled his chest.
The tears fell steadily now when he realized he would never see Shizuo again.
Now more than ever he wished he hadn't grown so attached to the blond. If he had never let himself fall in love with the brute, maybe he wouldn't feel so awful now. On the other hand, maybe if he had tried to develop a relationship besides hatred with him, Shizuo would be out there searching for him and he might have a chance at freedom.
A too-thin body attempted to curl up into a ball only to be stopped by the pain of the wounds on his back. He lay on his side, in a half curled position, too weak to hold back his tears. His entire form shook with the force of the sobs that forced their way out. He had been trying to keep it inside. Trying to hold out for any shred of hope.
But there was none.
There was no point trying to hide his pain from himself anymore. There comes a point when one has to admit defeat to oneself.
He was broken. His master had won.
"Shhh…"
The sound barely reached his ears. It wasn't until he felt something brush his cheek that he realized he wasn't alone anymore.
"Don't cry, pet," his master's voice said softly, "You're okay. You are where you belong now."
How could those words sound so sweet? How could that brush against his cheek, gently wiping the tears away feel so good?
Izaya only cried harder.
"Shhh… it's okay," he said again, gently petting Izaya's hair, "Come here…"
His master tugged on his shoulder and Izaya allowed himself to be led closer to the cause of his torment. Arms wrapped around him and Izaya didn't even try to put up a fight.
It… almost…
No… it did feel good.
The man holding him was the reason behind his pain. He knew this. But he couldn't refuse the comfort he was being given. Not long ago, he would have been ashamed of the way his body tried to press in closer with this man. Not long ago, he wouldn't have believed it was possible to let himself go this far for something as simple as human contact.
It was wrong. But it didn't feel wrong.
"I've been checking on you a lot over the past few days," his master said quietly, "You might not be aware of this, but aren't getting enough sleep." As he spoke he began gently rubbing a part of Izaya's neck that the collar tends to put pressure on.
Izaya let out a small whimper in response.
"I'll give you a little something to help you sleep and when you wake up I'll give you a bath."
True to his word, he did just that. When Izaya woke up from probably the best sleep he had gotten since arriving here, (whatever he had been given was strong), Izaya allowed himself to be led by the collar to the bathroom.
He obediently held his wrists out and his ankles together to be tied as he usually was, and then he waited while his master dug into his coat pocket to retrieve the key to his collar. Izaya was then carefully set in the tub where he curled up into a ball the best he could without disturbing the stitches on his back.
The warm water felt pleasant on his chilled skin. This was his first real bath since he had been whipped. Previously he had only been given a sponge bath because of the wounds on his back. They weren't healed yet, but they were making progress—at least that's what he was told. There was no mirror for Izaya to be able to see for himself. He could only judge based on the amount of pain he felt when he moved too much. If he tried to reach them to feel with his hands, the stitches would pull in an uncomfortable way which prevented him from knowing for sure what damage was done.
As his master began washing his hair, Izaya couldn't help but notice how gentle he was being. Still quite groggy from the drug he had been given, Izaya was lulled back to sleep while his master washed him.
…~-~...
The next few days, Izaya put up no resistance. If he was told "suck harder", he would suck harder. If he was told "raise your ass", he would comply. If he couldn't breathe with his master's cock shoved deep in his throat, he merely accepted that he might suffocate. He would never try biting again, no matter how much it hurt.
"Good boy" was becoming a phrase he heard often. A phrase he wanted to hear because it meant he did well. It meant he wouldn't be punished today.
Izaya spent his time alone sitting on the bed with his knees drawn up against his chest, and his chin on his knees. His arms wrapped around his legs in an attempt to keep warm. He could tell he had lost some weight and thus was more sensitive to the cold than usual.
He had the freedom to walk around the room, but the sound of the chain dragging along the floor made him feel light headed. The sound reminded him that what he was experiencing was real. When he sat on the bed however, Izaya could spend his time lost in his thoughts—even imagining he were somewhere else, detaching himself from his body.
He would remain like this for hours at a time until he was either ready to sleep, or his master came in to use him once again.
Izaya had long since gotten used to being forcefully penetrated. While it still hurt, it was a much more dull pain than it used to be. He found if he relaxed the muscles down there it didn't hurt nearly as much as when he used to resist it.
As he lay on his side, muscles aching from his master's most recent visit, Izaya allowed his tears to fall freely, too exhausted to wipe them away.
Everything has a breaking point. Izaya had finally reached his.