AN: Hey guys. Teehee. In a good mood right now. Thanks for the continued support! I have the next chapter after this written, and I have ideas for the next few plot points, but I'm feeling extra procrastination-y. Review, it helps me motivate myself! Enjoy :) ~Aly
I idly sat on the sterilized medical covering, swinging my legs back and forth under the examination table. I found myself jittery, since I didn't do well with boredom, or anticipation. Or absolute, gut-wrenching hatred. All I wanted to do was run away.
The demon ended up driving me to his mansion. Apparently the Ohtoris, medical aficionados they were, had an entire hospital installed into a wing of the estate. He cockily explained it was for safety reasons, but I knew it was just an excuse for the family to flaunt their revolting wealth. If us Hitachiins were considered filthy rich, the Ohtoris were Greek Gods, basking in the glory of anyone stupid enough to sacrifice themselves to them. The lord knows how many pathetic businessmen have fallen victim to their greedy charms.
He guided me through the pristine, ornate hallways to their private hospital, which was bustling with doctors and nurses, despite their occupancy being nonexistent until I arrived, of course. I wondered how much they paid the staff to pretend like they were doing something to keep their image up.
He led me to a huge, white room and ordered me to wait on the examination table gourney thing until further instructions were given. He also told me to take off my shirt, a command I was blatantly ignoring. With that, he swiftly left me alone in the room, sternly scolding me with his eyes as if to warn me to behave. As if.
So I restlessly waited, wondering why the hell I was here. I assumed he wanted to make sure his plaything was in perfect condition. Or torture me with his demonic tentacles.
Eventually I heard a faint, customary knock on the door, followed by him waltzing briskly in. He hastily shut, and somewhat alarmingly for me locked, the door behind him. He was carrying a heavy looking black bag with him, and had a spotless white lab coat on with a stethoscope hanging around his neck. He set the bag down carefully on the counter as he sidestepped to the sink to wash his hands. I watched him with impatient, nervous eyes.
As he was snapping on sterile, latex gloves, he turned to face me. He was about to say something when he noticed my appearance. "I ordered you to take off your shirt," he reminded me with a hint of a threat on his tone.
I tried to act indifferent. "And I didn't listen, did I?" I bit back.
Fury flashed across his eyes - eyes, I dimly noted, that were bare. That's right; he told me he preferred to handle everything unprofessional wearing contacts instead of glasses. His naked glare was almost paralyzing.
He sighed, rubbing his hands together. He stepped closer to me, and my breathing hitched unconsciously. Mere inches away from me, he murmured in a serious voice, "Don't struggle, please. I would rather refrain from using force, but I will get violent if you don't cooperate."
I ground my teeth together tensely as he started lightly unbuttoning my shirt. I refused to meet his eyes, but I could feel his gaze on me. I stared at the sanitized wall behind him, trying to stay as still as possible. In the back of my mind I registered the uncomfortable way his cold fingers would linger on my skin. It felt incredibly intimate. I also couldn't help noticing how rough and careless he was treating the delicate buttons on my designer blouse, which was black territory for any Hitachiin. Touch our clothes and we kick your ass.
"Kaoru, you may be wondering why you're here." He muttered simply as he finished undoing the last clasp.
I let the thin fabric crumple at my sides as he slipped it off my shoulders. As he yanked the shirt away from my wrists, I winced and answered plainly, "No shit, Sherlock."
He smirked, giving one of my wrists a playful squeeze. I edged away from him. He ignored my mocking tone, though I half expected him to reprimand me. "The answer's quite simple," he continued softly, his face millimeters from mine.
He leaned back and adjusted the stethoscope so he was making use of the earpieces. I couldn't suppress a shiver as he gently pressed the ice cold metal to my exposed chest. "I've been in need of a personal assistant for a while now - as stress in the company has increased and my pressure to inherit the company has doubled, I've found that my well being has suffered because of it. Not only do I have a standing chance in taking over the business, but I am also doing quite well in private investments and have a small fortune of my very own. Thus far my pride has constricted me from taking advantage of outside help, but I recently found myself in the possession of a certain advantageous audio file - one which you are well aware of. The timing seemed right, and I am never one to pass up on a golden opportunity. So I seized it."
I shuddered once more as he pressed the freezing stethoscope to the hollow beneath my throat. "You're blackmailing me," I corrected bitterly.
"If you'd prefer to look at it that way, then yes," he allowed, tugging on my shoulder so he could access the pulse on my back. "I'd rather see it as non-refusable motivation."
I scowled, rolling my eyes. He pulled back from me and removed the stethoscope from his neck. He picked up a different instrument and began examining my ears, eyes, and throat, making insignificant notes in his sinister black notebook every now and then. All of the checks he was doing were routine, but they seemed redundant to me - like busy work. He knew as well as I did that I was completely healthy. He continued to take my blood pressure, temperature, test my reflexes. The silence was poignant.
Eventually I asked, "What does being your 'personal assistant' entail, exactly?"
He looked up from his notebook for a moment, flashing me a quick smile. "Nothing that should be too difficult for you. As long as you're willing."
I was getting fed up with his vagueness. Though I was known to be the more patient and calm twin, I wasn't completely exempt from our family's infamous unstable temper. I stewed over him for a minute, managing to control my irritation. I decided to just keep my mouth shut - I would find out soon enough, wouldn't I? And besides, I had to admit it'd be a bad idea to anger him.
He continued poking and prodding me until he was apparently satisfied. With a pleased grin, he announced, "You are in mint condition."
"I'm not a toy," I muttered defiantly, but he ignored my comment. He could be so predictable, the bastard.
He made a final note and said, "Seeing as us Ohtoris are quite stagnant on the issue of health, I had to make sure you were a suitable candidate for my tastes."
"I could've figured that out on my own, smartass," I shot, crossing my arms. I was tired of being treated with inferiority. "And can I put my shirt back on?" I asked, embarrassed by the prolonged exposure.
"I wouldn't bother," he quipped, and I gulped. "In fact, you might as well strip entirely. You're going to be changing clothes."
"What?" I demanded, my voice hollow.
He began to unzip the black bag he brought with him. Once it was undone he replied wryly, "My original intention was to wait until next weekend to settle you into your job; after all, today is a Sunday, and we have exams next week." What the hell was he planning to do to me that could interfere with my studies? "But I suppose plans do change..." He finished with a twinge in his tone.
This made me grin a little bit at the memory. "Who knew the low blood pressure evil lord could be so jealous?"
"It's not envy," he interrupted defensively. I smiled wider. "It's more like possession."
"It's the same thing," I insisted, savoring the way his eyebrows twitched in pure agitation. I loved being right.
He rummaged through the bag, his elbows jutting out in harsh stabs. "Be careful of what you say," he warned in a quiet voice. "There are many other ways I can ruin your life besides this audio tape. Remember that."
"So that proves it," I hissed. "You are trying to ruin my life. That assistant thing is just a bullshit excuse."
"I'm not trying to ruin your life," he reassured me. I cringed as he brought his fingers under my chin to lift my head up. Staring into my eyes with fire in his pupils, he said mildly, "You are correct, however, on the assistant thing being a bullshit excuse."
"What?" I sputtered, dumbfounded. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? "For what?" I demanded, furious my guess was right. "Why are you really doing this? And why me?" My temperament had finally bubbled to the surface.
He shook his head, going back to shifting through the black bag. "You'll figure it out. You're not stupid." You've got that right.
I opened my mouth, but he cut me off with a hand, giving me a piercing look. By this point I was beyond pissed. I didn't like being played with. "Take off your pants," he ordered. I didn't register what he said, still pissed and confused.
He got impatient. When I didn't respond, he wordlessly tugged at the button of my jeans and yanked the zipper down. I felt my face flush as he inched the skinny fabric down my legs, regretting my stubbornness. I couldn't allow my selfishness to cause my clothes distress.
I felt somewhat violated as I was left naked except for my silk black briefs. His eyes searched my body in an unbearably awkward way. I tried to pretend I was somewhere far away from here. With some really hot guys, and no memories of my previous life. And lots of liquor.
He finally retracted something from the medical bag. "So you won't try to run off," he smiled.
Before I could even think to react, he had hooked one hand tightly onto my shoulder and was using the other to latch something thick around my neck. I tried to push him off, but his grip was iron tight. After successfully clasping the heavy material around my neck, he stepped back smugly.
My hand flew up to touch it, and with shock I discovered it was unreasonably constricting. It was some kind of smooth leather material, tied like a choker against the skin of my throat. "What the hell is this?"
He shrugged easily. "A collar," he answered obviously. I was too confused and freaked out to say anything.
He lightly grabbed my hand; I nearly jumped at the sudden contact. He carefully brought my fingers up to touch the side of the leather, where some elegant lettering was carved into the fabric. I looked at him questioningly, and he whispered, "It says 'Property of Kyouya'. To remind you who you belong to."
I gaped at him. "I'm not wearing this," was all I could manage.
"You will when you're with me," he argued smoothly. "You'll find my methods of persuasion very convincing, anyway," he mumbled after a thought.
"I won't-"
Before I could whine anymore, he continued crisply, "Let's just say this collar is extremely muiltitalented. Much like myself." I scoffed shallowly as he finished; milord and his narcissism were really starting to rub off on the brunette. And what did that even mean? What was he planning to do, choke me? Poison me?
I stuttered incoherently for a moment, but he pressed on. "And this," he drawled as he brought my fingers to a metal loop near the nape of my neck, "Is where I attach the leash."
"Leash?" I gasped, my skin paling. Was this some kind of sick, sado-masochistic scandal or something? Did he expect me to be his slave? Though, I thought in the back of my mind, I practically was his slave, given the circumstances. But that didn't mean I could be treated like a common dog. Or some bizarre sex object. This was getting ridiculous.
"I'll save you the embarrassment for now," he murmured. "But if you disobey me, I won't hesitate to use it. And the collar must stay on at all times."
I didn't have any words to say. Wearing a collar was extremely degrading - and call it narcissistic or superficial or even ignorant, but I was rich, and I was raised with aristocracy. There could be nothing more humiliating than being reduced to ranks lower than that of a domesticated animal. But I knew I couldn't do anything about it. I was powerless.
So I let it go. Truthfully, the collar wasn't the biggest fashion atrocity I'd ever seen. But I was reaching my limit of tolerance again. Fast.
He pulled another article of clothing out from the bag, this one far more terrifying. He let it unravel in front of him as he announced, "This is your new uniform."
Raised as a fashion designer's son, I had long since learned to scrutinize every single thread in front of me. Hikaru and I were the ultimate fashion primadonnas; if your outfit was hideous, we'd make sure you knew it.
My stomach sunk as I saw the disaster in front of me.
To put it simply, it was some kind of a French maid leotard. It was basically the classic French maid mini dress put into a tight fitting, provocative, near-lingerie leotard. There were mounds of black and white ruffles and lace polluting random areas, and intricate buttons and snaps where they weren't needed. It was obviously intended for a woman; though the cups were definitely size A, the chest area was intricate and defined and extremely low cut. There was practically no space for an ass of any kind - it could've been a thong for all the support it looked like it gave. The entire thing looked like it could barely cover a newborn.
"Fuck that," I blurted, horrified by the monstrosity. It looked like porn had thrown up all over a ballerina.
He raised an eyebrow at me. "You're going to wear it," he growled dangerously. For once, I wasn't intimidated. Nothing could scare me more than bad fashion sense.
I shook my head vigorously. "No," I blatantly insisted. I wasn't afraid to crossdress - although since this was a leotard, it was somewhat unisex, with its basically nonexistent crotch area. I thought even a mini skirt could've covered more skin than this spool of threads. I was more afraid of any rational person seeing me in something so hideously whoreish.
"Kaoru, you are wearing this even if I have to tie you down and force it on you myself," he hissed firmly. I still wasn't scared.
He suddenly looked like he had a brilliant idea. Damn him. "What a coincidence," he mused, fingering the lace subconsciously. His tone was venomous. "Your first duty happens to be helping me test a new product that we currently have in beta."
He gave me a devilish, fatal smirk. I hated my life. "This would be perfect means to test it on."
AN: Hohoho, what is Kyouya planning? Review and you'll find out :3 Also, does anybody else totally see Kaoru only caring about his clothes? Haha, I get a kick out of that. Till next time, basta la pasta...hasta...mmm hetalia okay bye lol ~Aly