Disclaimer: Trinity Blood and its characters DO NOT belong to me. Strictly speaking, I am not sure whether my characters can even be considered canon. This is the follow-up on the scene in manga volume 9 after Cain and Isaak punish Dietrich for the Nightlords fiasco and daring to sass back at Isaak.

Another one for you IxD fangirls out there, since the fandom is a bit stagnant recently. Heavy M warning for yaoi, torture, child abuse, deviant sexual behaviours and Dietrich being a total whore.

Shadow Play – Act 1

“No, please, don’t! NO!” Slender legs kicked impotently as he fought against the Crusnik’s inhuman strength. “NO!” Coffee-brown eyes widened in horror as the raven-haired mage approached. He could feel the heat, the promise of pain. Closer… closer… until his eye watered from the glowing tip of the cigarillo primed to blind him.

A low chuckle and the smell of burning upholstery told him he got lucky, this time. Relief flushed through him as the Crusnik released his victim. Dietrich slid off the Crusnik’s lap, off the armchair into a heap on the floor. He could feel warm telltale stickiness through the seat of his pants where Mein Herr had pressed against him. He knew what it was. How disgusting… Cain always got off torturing his subordinates. Even now, a foot pressed hard against his chest as he sprawled at his tormenter’s feet.

Play dead. Someone once said that when faced with a bear, one should play dead. Dietrich hoped it worked with Mein Herr and Isaak. Mein Herr would soon tire and go find some other Terran to torture. To his relief, the almost unbearable pressure on his chest finally lifted. He hoped it meant Mein Herr was gone.

“Playing dead doesn’t always work, boy…” Isaak. Cruel fingers wound themselves in brown hair and yanked him none too gently up from the floor. At least Mein Herr was gone.

Those coffee-brown eyes Isaak was so fond of fluttered open. Isaak slipped an arm around Dietrich, both to steady him and pull him close. “Time for a debriefing,” Isaak chuckled and slipped his hand towards the small of his protégé’s back. “About your performance recently, you have been a let-down in Istvan and that recent debacle in the Empire… You have a knack for underestimating little girls, don’t you? Or were you distracted by something else… like this?”

Dietrich winced when Isaak shoved him back against the wall roughly and ground his hips against his lithe frame. Isaak was immediately rewarded by a gasp.

“How many others have screwed you, Dietrich? Twenty? Fifty? Or have you lost count?” Gloved hands spun Dietrich around to face the wall and a hand forced its way into the front of Dietrich’s pants. “Slut. You are nothing but a sick little whore, carrying on with Endres, Alfred and half a dozen others…”

“You made me one, Isaak… you did me first…” Dietrich braced himself against the wall, forehead pressed into the cool wall. “I hate you … You make me sick…”

“Liar, your body says otherwise…” Isaak hissed and tore Dietrich’s pants down to his ankles, freeing his aching erection.

8 years ago, Londonium

“Isaac? Are you in?” William Walter Wordsworth knocked on the door of his classmate’s apartment. The lecture was starting soon and Isaac had been missing way too many lectures. William was a little concerned about his fellow student’s well-being. Isaac was very pale the last time they met in the hall. It must be hard studying and taking care of a younger brother, never mind if young Dean Butler was surprisingly mature for his tender age. Then again, Isaac was not known to attend lessons before sunset, presumably due to his day job.

“Dean?” Perhaps that unsettlingly mature brother of Isaac’s was in. “May I have my psychology textbook back, please?” William asked and rapped on the door again. He swore he heard something, or maybe it was just the creaking of Butlers’ shabby apartment block. Dean always promised to return William the books he had borrowed from him, but he never did. With the finals coming, William needed his textbooks.

Satisfied both Butlers were out, William left.

Seated in his armchair in the dimly-lit apartment, Isaac Butler, better known in the Orden as Isaak Fernand von Kampfer, nonchalantly clapped a hand over his ‘brother’s’ mouth to stifle the boy’s cries of pain. His other hand gripped a bony hip, lifting Dietrich up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. Straddling Isaak, Dietrich gripped the armrests of the chair until his knuckles turned white, silent tears running down his pale cheeks as his body was pummelled by Isaak’s bulk…His body was too young, too fragile for what Isaak was doing to him.

“Good boy,” Isaak whispered into Dietrich’s ear as he gave a final thrust into the boy’s bleeding body.

“Isaak, it hurts…” Dietrich gasped into the hand still clapped onto his mouth. He didn’t want to confirm what that hot stickiness filling him and running down his thighs was, even though he had a good suspicion.

“You’ll get used to it. In fact, I think you’ll enjoy it…” Sated, Isaak roughly shoved Dietrich off his lap and lit a cigarillo. He took a drag as he admired Dietrich’s naked, bruised body. “A body as beautiful as yours is only good for this. Now lick this mess up.” He gestured to his groin. On his knees, Dietrich shivered as he sucked off the blood and seed.

“Are you going to fuck me senseless the way you did Dean Butler for speaking to the neighbours? I bet having your kid brother discussing philosophy and politics with your classmates is very embarrassing for you.” Dietrich ground his hips suggestively against Isaak. For the first few years, sex with Isaak was immensely painful and humiliating. In some perverted way, it had become almost enjoyable as their twisted relationship continued.

Dietrich knew his baiting Isaak would end up with him writhing under Isaak… and he was looking forward to it.

“Bitch.”

Reading Dietrich’s intentions, Isaak relinquished his grip and stepped away. He was not going to give in to Dietrich. If Dietrich wanted it, Isaak was determined to deny him. It would be delightful to simply sit back and watch Dietrich squirm the way he did earlier. Isaak hid a smile at the memory of a frustrated Dietrich wriggling about in his chair while the Duke of Tigris rekindled a past affair with the late Radu. One hand keeping control of his puppet as the Duke made passionate love to it in a distant Byzantium study, one hand groping down the front of his pants. Cheeks flushed from the effort of trying to sate his lust and maintain control…

“You are so desperate, Di. You can’t live without having someone doing you, could you?” Isaak grumbled. “Go run along and animate some corpse, then screw yourself on it the way you did with Radu.”

“Or I could try seducing you, like I did Gyula…” Dietrich hissed. He let his tie fall to the floor and began unbuttoning his shirt. “I made him forget about his dear wife… He was a considerate lover, not rough like Radcon or Alfred… So, Magician, would you prefer doing it in a nice soft bed, in the backseat of your limo or outdoors in an alley?” With deliberate slowness, Dietrich let his shirt slip off his frame. He now stood naked before his mentor.

“I am not interested. Go find someone else to seduce,” Isaak made a show of nonchalantly stubbing out his cigarillo in an astray. Rutting about in the back of his car? Now he knew the origin of those suspicious stains he found in his car after the Terran volunteered to drive Count Alfred to the train station… He hated the notion of his Dietrich romping about with that simpleton.

“Poor old Endres taught me some interestingly kinky games during our weekend getaway in Venice. We would have invited you for a threesome but you were laid up after that disaster in Rome… maybe I could show you some…” Two could play at this game. If Isaak was determined to leave him wanting, Dietrich would just have to make Isaak want him.

“Or I could summon my minions to rape you in ways you never imagined possible…” Isaak made an obscure gesture in the air. Tentacles of shadow surrounded his victim. Dietrich’s brown eyes widened in horror as it dawned on him that he might have overstepped his boundaries for the second time that night. The shadows oozed closer. “And I will have the whole event captured on video for my future enjoyment, since I can hardly expect you to be alive after they are done,” Isaak smirked.

“Isaak, please! Don’t… I’m sorry…” Dietrich gibbered and backed against the wall, eyes teary with fear. Those fear-filled coffee-brown eyes sent a tremor of desire to Isaak’s already aching groin. Those lovely eyes never failed to arouse him. Playtime, Di. And let’s see who the puppet is now…

“NO!” Dietrich screamed as the shadows engulfed him at Isaak’s command.

Author’s Notes:

William is so clueless about what goes on behind closed doors, isn’t he? I may follow up this cliffhanger…

So should Isaak set his shadow demons loose on Di for a gang-bang to punish him for daring to sass back? More of Di’s sexual escapades?