Sapphire Artemis: As of February 17, 2005, the full version of this is UP!


Yzak Jule entered Krueze's room and saluted. "You called for me, sir?" he asked, looking at the masked commander.

Krueze glanced at him and smiled. "Ah, Yzak. Here you are. I was beginning to think that you were not coming."

"My apologies, sir. I was...detained." And it was true. In the hall, Dearka had intercepted the silver-haired pilot. He had said that he had something important to tell Yzak. Yzak had waved him off, saying that he had urgent business to attend to. Dearka had tried to get him to stay, but in the end had let him go.

"Well, I am glad that you could make it." Krueze said silkily. He came around from the other side of the table that he had been standing at. Yzak thought he saw Krueze slip something up his sleeve, but dismissed it from thought.

Krueze gestured to a chair. "Have a seat, Yzak."

Yzak obeyed, sitting in the chair and watching Krueze pull one up next to him and sit down as well. "I have a very...very...important mission for you, Yzak. Starting tonight. Right now."

Yzak tried to quell the excitement rising in his chest. Maybe this was his big chance to finally destroy the Strike! "What is it, sir?"

Krueze stood up and beckoned Yzak to do the same. The platinum blond did, facing the taller man. Krueze suddenly dipped his head and put his arms behind his back, concealing them from view.

Yzak stepped forward. "Commander, is something—!"

He could not finish, for suddenly, Krueze had lifted his head. Quick as a flash, he grabbed the shorter boy's arms and wrested them behind his back, holding them there with one hand.

Then, with perfect malice on his face, he lifted his other hand and pressed a dagger to Yzak's throat.

Sliding smoothly behind him, he brought his face close to the boy's ear. "If you want to live, Yzak Jule, I suggest you follow my every instruction."

Yzak fought against panic, tried to still his beating heart. "I—instruction?" he quavered, swallowing and feeling the blade rise up and down on his throat.

"Go to the edge of the bed." Came Krueze's calm voice. Yzak obeyed, mind racing wildly and trying to evaluate his situation. "Now strip."

"What!" Yzak yelled, attempting to move, but freezing as the blade dug into his throat. "You can't be—!"

"Oh, but I am. Strip, Yzak. Or I can take you by force."

"Or you could kill me!" the silver-haired pilot spat in a rage of angry passion, tilting his head upward. "Come on, Krueze—kill me! I'd rather die than be touched by you!" He trembled slightly, but still kept his head defiantly upwards, daring the commander to slice.

To his surprise, Krueze chuckled and brought Yzak's head down. "Amazing, my darling Yzak, how quickly your attitude can turn. One minute, your loyalty is to me—the next, here you are: daring me to kill you."

He clutched Yzak closer, running his hand up through the silver hair, and bringing his lips so close that they were just brushing the skin of his ear. "Of course, it would be easy...all I'd have to do is this—" he suddenly wrenched Yzak's head up, exposing the soft throat, and sharply drew the blade across the skin, leaving a trail of blood and a small cry from the platinum blond, "A bit harder, of course...and your throat would be slit...and you'd be lying dead on the floor...your own blood pooling around you..."

Yzak froze as a hand trailed around his waist, undoing the belt. Krueze threw it off to the side and unbuttoned Yzak's shirt, sliding up and caressing the boy's chest. "Do you want this—" here he dug the knife into Yzak's throat, restricting the pilot's breathing, "Or this..." now he stroked Yzak's slender, pale belly.

Trying to suck in air, Yzak glared at Krueze. "Bite me, Krueze!" he snarled. "There's no way I'll let you have the satisfaction! You'll have to kill me!"

Once again, Krueze chuckled. "Oh, but I don't think that's an option."

"Op—! Krueze, you just said that I could choose for you to rape me, or you could kill me, and I'm choosing for you to kill me!"

"Oh, sorry, did I give you a choice? Let me rephrase that: either you let me rape you, or Dearka dies."

Yzak's head suddenly spun, filled with images of the tanned pilot, his smile, his wave... "Krueze, don't bring him into this!" his voice sounded pleading, and he immediately regretted that. The last thing he wanted was to sound weak in front of his assaulter.

"But I will. Let me say this again: you, or Dearka?"

Yzak swallowed, closing his eyes. Every fiber in his being screamed for him to just let Dearka die—! He didn't want to be...raped!

But he knew that he couldn't betray his only friend. With a deep breath, he turned to face Krueze. When he spoke, his voice dripped with anger. "Fine."

"Fine what?" Krueze said coyly, toying with Yzak's hair.

"Fine—rape me, you sick bastard!" Yzak screamed. "But..." his voice grew softer. "Don't...hurt...Dearka."

Krueze smiled with a hint of triumph. "All right then, my darling Yzak. Strip—now." He punctuated the now with a little pressure from the knife. Even though there was no point in having the blade—Yzak would willingly submit, knowing that his friend's life was in danger—Krueze still kept it, relishing about the hundred different ways he could terrify the silver-haired boy.

Yzak glared with pure, intense hatred at the commander before tugging his arms away from Krueze's hand. He slipped off his shirt, shivering unconsciously under the masked scrutiny. He then slowly took off his pants, and undergarments.

Standing there completely naked, bathed in moonlight, Yzak knew that now there was no turning back. He allowed himself to be turned around by Krueze. The commander roughly shoved the platinum blond down on his back on the bed, pinning his arms above his head and plundering the boy's mouth. Wide-eyed, Yzak struggled, until he remembered Dearka as well as the knife that was very conspicuously still pressing into his throat.

Krueze eased himself onto Yzak, straddling his hips and facing him. He slowly began taking his own clothes off with one hand, the other one holding Yzak helpless, the knife unattended on the bed. Yzak could have tried to grab it, but he didn't want to put Dearka's life in danger.

Krueze threw his clothes off to the side and roughly ground his hips against Yzak's, eliciting a scream from the silver-haired pilot.

He leered at Yzak. "So, here you are, Yzak Jule...in one of your most vulnerable states..." he thrust down onto Yzak's hips a second time, making the boy scream again. "I wonder...has anyone else heard you scream like that? I assure you, it's truly wonderful...so arousing and...sensuous..." He rubbed his own hips around in quick, fast, hard circles and ups and downs that, even though Yzak tried to resist, made the platinum blond scream for a third time. Krueze smirked.

He then bent down and took Yzak's lips with his own again, sucking the bottom lip and thrusting his tongue into Yzak's mouth.

Yzak tried to stop his teenage emotions from going through the roof. It was awfully hard when you're being raped and your whole soul is rivaling against it, but your body gives in simply because it feels good.

He gave a strangled cry as Krueze's rough, calloused fingers pinched one nipple cruelly, twisting and tickling, as pain and pleasure racked Yzak's slender body, making it arch up unconsciously into those fingers. Krueze eyed this with satisfaction. Teenage boys were so easy to break.

He leaned down and this time took one of Yzak's nipples into his mouth, biting it and caressing it with his tongue, then moving to the next one, then trailing down the boy's stomach, nipping at the navel. Yzak choked out, "Just—get it—over with—you sick—AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

He screamed as Krueze engulfed his sex in his mouth. The masked commander smirked, swallowing the length as far as he could, pummeling it with his throat muscles, grazing it with his teeth...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Yzak screamed again as Krueze actually ground his teeth into the flesh. The silver-haired pilot bucked his hips up, unconsciously trying to force himself deeper into the place where the pleasure was emanating from.

Krueze, meanwhile, was reveling in the boy's screams. He knew for a fact that Yzak never revealed weakness. Yet here he was now, screaming while still trying not to cry, being pleasured though he knew he didn't want it...

It was beautiful.

Krueze sighed. Time to continue, however. The boy was just lucky that Krueze was doing this for him...though the commander's instincts told him to abandon this and start fucking Yzak for all his was worth.

But in a way, he enjoyed this more. To see Yzak in this state...it was worth it.

Krueze removed his teeth from Yzak's flesh, leaving the teenager shaking. He positioned himself above Yzak.

The boy knew. "No..." he whispered. "Please..."

Krueze inwardly crowed. Yzak was begging him! Pleading with him to stop! Oh, this was a great day...bringing the great Yzak down to his place...

"Yes." Krueze said, almost in a whisper.

Then, he thrust.

Yzak threw his head back and screamed, trying to keep his hips from thrusting upwards, trying to ignore the pain...

Krueze withdrew, then thrust again. Withdraw, thrust. Withdraw. Thrust. Yes, oh yes, bring pain to the boy underneath him! Submit, Yzak Jule! Submit!

After what seemed like hours, Krueze finally stopped.

Yzak lay limply underneath him, blood and traces of Krueze running down his inner thighs. He was breathing hard, then turned and coughed up blood.

Krueze lazily picked up the knife. Making sure that Yzak's hands were still pinned back, he placed it at the soft skin above Yzak's crotch. He traced it upwards, spiraling around one swollen nipple, then the other. He ended at Yzak's throat, then slid it up over his cheek and past his ear, finally coming to trail on Yzak's scar. He applied a slight bit of pressure, just to let Yzak know what he could do, then dropped the knife on the bed. Smirking, he asked, "So, how did you like that, my darling Yzak?"

The platinum blond made no reply, but kept his eyes closed, not talking through his ragged breathing.

Krueze suddenly felt a flare of anger. Just who did Yzak think he was, to not respond to him! If the boy thought this was bad, oh, he didn't know what Krueze could have done! In a fit of rage, Krueze grabbed Yzak's throat and hoisted him up, off the bed, the boy's feet barely trailing the ground. Krueze squeezed Yzak's throat, making the boy gasp for breath and snap his eyes open. "Tell me, Yzak!" he growled, applying more pressure.

Yzak tried to breathe; he barely could. His throat was supporting all his weight; which, thankfully, wasn't that much, but enough to severely limit his breathing. "Tell—you—what—!" he choked, hands weakly flailing at the air.

"How did you enjoy that?" Krueze purred, eyes glinting.

Yzak refused to reply. Krueze threw him onto the ground. The silver-haired boy hit with a crash into a chair, and collapsed to the floor. Krueze reached down and wrenched Yzak's head up, placing the tip of the knife directly onto the boy's Adam's apple. "Answer me." He said menacingly.

Yzak closed his eyes. He would not answer to this—this—madman! "I will not!" he said defiantly. "Haven't you tortured me enough for tonight, you sick bastard!"

Krueze stopped to think about that. He smirked. "I guess not, Yzak."

He let Yzak go. Suddenly, Krueze turned, lips and teeth bared in a feral snarl. "So suffer no more!" he barked. He thrust the knife at Yzak's chest, but the boy managed to roll away, so the knife hit him in the shoulder instead, going all the way through. Krueze was not to be daunted, however. He ripped the knife out, spun, and thrust again.

This time the aim was true; it hit right dead center in Yzak's chest. The platinum blonde's eyes widened.

Krueze grinned. "Sleep tight, my darling Yzak."

Those were the last things Yzak heard before his world went black.


Sapphire Artemis: There ya go! It wasn't that bad, but ya can never be too sure...