He never really understood why he continued to come back to this place, this place that had kept him held prisoner for most of his life-no-just about all of his life. The place was dark, but not too dark. He could still see things here, and he could most definitely feel things here. If any other had come to this place, this place of darkness, of nothingness, this prison, they would have broken long ago, but not him. He had been here for six years, and just recently was able to escape. He knew how this place felt, what the feeling of being alone meant, more than anything, and he knew how being a prisoner felt. It was torture, absolute torture, and it was finally over. He'd gotten free.

And now he was back, because to be a prisoner, someone had to lock you up in the first place. It wasn't too dark in this place, just enough so that he could still make out the object that he sought, the reason for coming back to this hell in the first place. It was the one who had locked him up, the reason for everything that had happened to him, but now the tables were turned. His keeper, his warden, was now the prisoner, and he was the caretaker.

Oh, how he loved to call himself that, because it was so deliciously twisted, just to his liking. To care for something as insignificant as his ex-warden was contradictory, and he loved that. He loved coming to this place now, because of his prisoner, because of who his prisoner was, it gave him a high, a new hobby, and once in this place, he had all the time in the world.

The object came into view, hunched over in a pathetic heap, its young head bowing down with the white blonde hair covering its face, its breathing erratic, its clothes tattered and worse for wear, and the bruises...oh, the bruises and cuts and carvings on its body, they had all been because of him, because in this place, he was in control, he was the initiator, and whatever he wanted to happen, whatever he wanted to do, he could do it.

The object tensed at the sound of his boots echoing and tapping on the floor, as he drew closer to it, and the object lifted its head, staring back at him with empty violet eyes that held so much story to them, that told of such horrid things, all the things he had done to them. There was disgust, degradation, sorrow, despair, but the one emotion that shown through brighter than all the others was fear.

Fear. Pure, black, horrible, wonderful, unadulterated fear. Fear that filled him up inside when he saw it shine through, because he had given it, the object deserved to be in fear, and he purposely tortured the object with it, because he could, because the object was what he hated most of all. And what he loved.

Once upon the object, once he could stand above it and stare down at it, casting his shadow over it even in the dark, and only when the object started to shake with that beautiful fear it was so used to, did he finally speak to it. "Hello, Hikari." It was rhetorical, and he expected no answer, no response whenever he spoke.

The object knew this, and it didn't speak, but it did move a little, and when it did, the chains and straps that were holding it down, binding it, trapping it, giving it no chance of escape, jingled and clinked, bent and chafed it as it moved, as it still held onto that microscopic-sized resistance that he could so easily crush, and enjoyed crushing. The object looked so beautiful all tied up like this, bound and held down, just like it had done him all that time ago. He wasn't chained in a literal sense like this, but he felt it suited the object. The straps wrapping around its bronzed bare chest and arms, thighs and calves, the almost collar-like one he'd tied around its neck, the one he could grab and make the object think he would choke it should it resist him, the chains that held its wrists and ankles together, that clinked notes so musical, this was all of the things he'd done to the object, that he'd created, that he'd been able to do. And it had all been so easy. The object had barely put up a fight. It was fun for awhile watching it squirm and swear at him when it thought that being insubordinate would get it out of this, but the fun ended, the swears getting annoying and the constant kicking and screaming aggravating.

He'd moved onto physically restraining the object...his object, his plaything, and he never knew how doing something like that would be so fulfilling, so absolutely marvelous. The object looked quite appealing in its new 'clothes', in the straps that didn't bother covering his decency, not that he was bothered by that. They shared the same body after all, so they had all the same things, but his object just seemed to be a little bit smaller, in almost all its areas, and the chains and straps really suited it, able to show off all its pretty curves and dips.

And that meant he was the almighty now, he was God to his object, and he acted as such by moving down to it, by taking its chin roughly in his fingers, and lifting its face up so that the fear-filled violet orbs stared up at him, almost glowing so magnificently in the dark. Staring into those eyes almost made him hard, but he controlled himself. There was so much to do, and he had all the time in the world. He wasn't going to get excited now.

Despite the fear those eyes were drowned in, he could still see the tiniest specks of resistance, of hope, and he loved that, loved that he would be the one to crush that hope, to destroy and kill that resistance. But, he wouldn't do it completely. It would be no fun if his object just sat there and let him do as he pleased. Putting up a fight got him excited, and he loved making his object think that resisting him angered him when it didn't. Quite the contrary, he loved teasing his object.

His plaything usually didn't speak out, but it did tonight, something he wasn't expecting, but he was amused by it. Very amused. "P-p-please." Its voice was raspy, torn from abuse, from the yelling and screaming it had done earlier, from what he'd done to it. Oh, he'd made his object scream all right. Those bruises, cuts, and wounds didn't just materialize out of nowhere. It continued speaking, knowing it was all hopeless, but doing it out of shear desperation, out of the little hope it still carried, that he would still listen to it. "I'm...I'm begging you, please, please, Mariku, stop it."

He backhanded it, creating a beautiful new mark on his object's face, the red contrasting with the tanned flesh. The eyes were still filled with fear, but it was used to the pain now, so that mediocre slap meant nothing, not after...everything he'd already done to it. He knew that, but the slap was mandatory, just showing the object how out of control it really was, that it was nothing more than that: An object, a toy, a plaything. A pet. He sucked in air at that thought, of this thing being his pet. God, it was euphoria. He almost lost himself in his own thoughts, about what exactly he planned to do with his pet tonight, but he broke away from that, coming back to reality, or...what was his reality. They were in his mind after all, entered through a dream state, but here...here, he was king. He could do what he wanted, and his pet had no say-so.

It knew that, and at the slap, at the burning sensation that he could almost feel from just watching the redness grow on his pet's face, his pet began to cry a little. Those pretty, pretty tears were probably what he loved more than the fear in its eyes. Those clear little crystals falling from the violet orbs, the whites growing red themselves, and falling down those tanned cheeks to fall onto the ground, it made him audibly groan and the object looked back up at him, confused at the verbal expression of pleasure.

He was finally going to do it tonight, and he loved the fact that his pet had no idea, or probably, maybe it had an idea a long time ago, but he'd only given it torture, only hurt it physically, broken it down as far as it could go without being destroyed, but tonight, he was going to take a different road, be loving with it for once, and make it his. Literally own his pet, his toy, because he could, and would. It would give him the greatest joy in the world, give him the one thing he'd always coveted, always admired, loved, hated, just wanted.

His pet's body. Oh yes, in the physical world, the real world, he was the one in control of it, the one winning all of those pointless and stupid duels, the one able to move the arms, legs, control where it went, what it did, but he wanted more. He's always loved his pet, even when he was the one imprisoned, but he hated it also.

Hating it was the torture part, the part where he hurt it, sliced it open, ran his fingers over the wounds without stopping, stretching them further, making the pet shed as much blood as it could, and just putting it through pain. He hated and loved the pet, and after all, hate and love were two sides of the same coin. He'd just chosen to hate first.

Tonight would be love. He would love the pet, love what it was, but most of all, he would love the things he would do to it, the sounds it would make, the movements it would do.

And he finally moved into the object's face, his lips brushing ever-so-slightly against its, and its eyes were wide with that beautiful fear again, silently pleading for him to stop, begging him to release it. He loved to pretend he didn't notice. "I love you." This must not have been what the object expected for when his lips finally moved onto its for the first time, giving the object its first kiss ever, it jerked backwards, fighting against its restraints, its breathing heavier than ever, and it cried again, harder this time.

He only had to grab hold of the strap acting as a leash and pull it towards him, choking his plaything, and the object stopped moving, though, its eyes remained ever fearful. He'd even thought they would forever stay that way now. It wouldn't matter to him, though. "You know the rules." His voice was dark, dangerous, and lustful. He licked at his lips, watching as his pet went through an inner struggle with itself, as if trying to decide whether or not it should fight and risk getting hurt, or submit and maybe lessen the pain. He loved watching it struggle so. "In this place, this is your prison, and you are mine. You belong to me and I can do whatever I want with you. You're mine." The last part was said just as a reminder, but he knew the pet didn't need anything of the sort. He just loved saying it, that the pet was his, that he owned it.

The strap was pulled again and again, the pet was forced to move closer toward him, or risk being choked. He knew the pet feared being hurt, and dying was its worst fear, so he loved to dangle those thoughts above its head. No, he wouldn't kill the pet. He loved it too much to just kill it off, but he did love hurting it, because the fear in its eyes was absolutely...he couldn't even describe it. It was just like a drug, he got high and hard off of watching his pet suffer.

However much he enjoyed his pet's eternal pain and suffering, he planned to stick by his original intentions, the reason he came here in the first place, and love it for tonight. He might only do this once, or many times, depending on what noises the pet made, on how it moved and reacted.

Taking his plan into motion, he gave a final tug of the leash and the pet was right in front of him now, and he settled down on the floor, bringing the object with him and instructing it to sit in his lap which it did, albeit reluctantly. He didn't mind the hesitation, because his pet being uncomfortable was his joy. His object was now straddling his thighs, giving him useless little stares with its eyes, begging him to leave it alone, to let it be.

"What do you love most in this world?" This was one question that wasn't meant to be rhetorical, so the object was confused and he found himself strangely drawn to that cute expression, and he loved watching as it tried figuring out whether or not it was supposed to answer. "I asked a question, now answer, Hikari."

"I-I...I don't know." The object was shrinking back as he got closer to it, like that would stop him from doing what he planned, and he reached an arm around to grab hold of its back and pull it back towards him. The object winced at the sudden and forceful push, and he drank in the sounds it made. He wanted more of them.

"Don't give me that shit, now answer the fucking question." He so loved making it think he was angry with it. A few swear words and a hard stare and he looked ready to murder.

The object took it seriously and lowered its head, but he tipped it back up, giving it a hard squeeze to its chin, trying to force an answer out now. "I...Mariku...please, I don't know. I've never...I don't know what I love. I've never loved anything before."

"Of course you haven't." He moved closer to its mouth, loving the flinches it made, the shivering he could feel all over its body, how scared it was. Yes, yes, he needed more. He needed to hear it scream, for that fear to be vocalized. "You, my 'master', have no idea just what loving something is, how beautiful and horrible it can be." He was sarcastic with his response, but it was true. The pet had created him in the first place out of shear hate and vengeance and despair. It never realized hate was double-sided, hate also was love. It had given him both without knowing it, but it didn't recognize love, and maybe he hated that about it.

He, however, could feel love, he knew it. He knew it was love when he reached behind his pet's head to snag at the white blonde strands of hair, pulling on them a little to get a whimper to come out of it, he knew he was loving it when he pulled the pet toward him, meeting it halfway and giving it another kiss. Pushing his tongue out this time, he demanded entry, trying to force open the lips his pet was keeping shut, and as much as he loved the retaliation, the useless fighting back, he was desperate for contact with his object's tongue, and he tugged more on the hair, being rough, to try and force its mouth open.

The pet whimpered, trying to jerk its head away out of instinct, and he leaned away to reach up and slap it, to remind it that there was no running away, and it took one last attempt at pleading with him, something he found annoying and pathetic. "P-please, Mariku, please, don't do this." Ah, it finally realized what was going on. It took a little too long for his tastes, as bright as the object appeared to be, but maybe it thought he would never do something like this, and it was shocked and scared, he could feel it, and he loved it. He almost didn't hear to rest of what his pet was saying, he was so lost in his thoughts of feeling all its despairing emotions at the moment. "You talk about love the way you do, but you can't love. What kind of love is this?" Those beautiful tears were shining in its eyes again, and he was tempted to lick them off its face. "Don't do it, please, please, don't do it. I'll do anything else for you."

That was a stupid thing for his pet to say, and it realized this, too, lifting its head up to stare back at him with its beautiful face that was darkened with fear, exhausted from constant torture and horror. Oh, how he loved it. He smiled at it, showing his teeth that looked ready to devour it any second. "Even you should realize the foolishness of what you just said." He laughed as his pet mentally scolded itself for its stupidity, looking down again. "I'm tired of your begging, Hikari. You're stupid if you think that it'll work, even now, and I think I might just take you up on your offer." He shifted, wiggling out from underneath his pet and positioning himself in front of it, supporting himself on his knees. The pet was forced to get on all fours, and he could still see tears dripping to the ground as he unbuckled his belt and zipped down his pants. "I thank you for the kind offer, really, Hikari, you've never been forward like this."

The fingers of his pet curled under and he could see the muscles twitching as it balled its hands into fists. "Fuck you." This was even more amusing than the fear, this backtalk that held no meaning, the trying to act like the pet still had a choice, and he knew it was near its breaking point by trying to act tough like it was. Really. His pet was so adorable sometimes.

And his body showed just how much he was enjoying all of this. He was hard, and it almost disappointed him that the telltale little drips of precum were seeping out. He knew he'd said he'd only love his pet tonight, but that didn't mean he couldn't have fun with it also. He smirked as the pet stared up at him horror, at his growing arousal, and it shrank back. Only a simple tug of the strap, and the pet was choking, coughing, scared, shivering, but back at his feet, leaning up to accept its fate, its stupidity. The tears on its face were so beautiful. He smiled down at his pet. "Take it, Hikari. You offered, now take it. No biting." Another smile. "I'll hurt you if you bite."

The threats weren't empty, the pet knew all too well, and closing its eyes, taking in a huge intake of breath, the pet sighed, a shaky, scared sigh, and it closed its eyes so it wouldn't have to see itself being degraded like this, wouldn't have to watch as it took him in its mouth, forced itself to lick up the precum, swallow it, and pull him all the way into its mouth.

"That's it." He would've preferred the object watch as it did this, but he was satisfied with this for now. However, he didn't plan on letting it off so easy next time. "Nice and slow." He continued instructing the pet how to skillfully suck him off, since the pet had no experience and tonight would be its first time, but it listened like a good pet, and led its tongue up and down, humming a little to put more feeling to it, bobbing up and down, sucking and making it as tight as it could, and swallowing every last drop of precum that dripped down.

He could see how disgusted the pet was with this, with being humiliated like this, but it should've seen it coming. It looked so beautiful down there, gaining a little speed when he told it to, when he could finally start to feel the pleasure peek its wonderful head up, when the pet shed more of those gorgeous tears of its as it continued bobbing up and down, up and down, up and...

"G-God..." There it was, the pleasure, that tightening, oh God, he could finally feel it coming up, and he forced his pet to go faster. He wanted more, but he planned to draw this out, to make the pet have to bend over like it was bowing to him and have its mouth on him, licking and sucking for as long as he could.

However, after awhile of doing just that, he was starting to lose his control. He was human after all, and something like this couldn't be drawn out forever, and he bucked into his pet's mouth, because it wasn't going fast enough. Dammit, he wanted friction, and he voiced his want. "H-Hikari, go faster, dammit, you're too slow."

He tugged on his pet's hair, just a small reminder of what he could do, and that was all it took. The pet sped up, and as he bucked up, the pet would go down, and they created a rhythm. The pet hummed, more in disgust than to put feeling to it, but he loved those sounds, those muffled sounds of struggle, and he couldn't take it anymore.

He grunted and exploded all in his pet's mouth, and with that, the pet jerked its head back, scrambling away with his semen dripping down its chin, and it wailed, terrified, eyes wild with horror, and after choking and sucking in air, the pet broke. Knowing fully well its chains were restraining its feet, the pet made a run for it anyway, the chains being a good length apart to allow just enough for it to run.

But, he'd done that on purpose. He made them that long so the pet could run. Because...he loved catching it.

The haze of orgasm was wonderful, and while he was stuck in that moment of pure bliss, the pet had taken that opportunity to make its escape, or rather, its attempted escape. He rose, and gave chase, laughing, knowing he would catch it, that the pet had nowhere to run, but he loved making it think it could.

The pet was crying, screaming and begging for him now when he got closer to it, when he could reach out and touch it... "PLEASE, JUST KILL ME! D-DON'T TOUCH ME!" He managed to grab the strap that acted as a leash and with a simple tug, the pet was jerked backwards with so much force that it literally flew through the air and crashed landed on its back. It began to scramble to get up, but he liked it this way and moved on top of it, trapped down its legs so it couldn't kick, and moving close to its face to kiss it, still choking it just a little with the strap. The screams and wails and whatever else the pet had to say were muffled when his mouth crushed against it, and this time, when his tongue demanded entry, it was not refused, and he took it all with greed, dancing with his pet's tongue, licking at its teeth, lips, gums, whatever else he could find, he wanted his tongue touching all of it. The pet grunted, but didn't bite down. It knew it was in trouble for trying to run away, for begging more for release.

He leaned off of it, licking his lips where a trail of spit had formed, connected to both of their mouths. "That was quite devious of you, Hikari. I think you deserve punishment for running away."

"Please, please." The pet's words were almost incoherent, being meshed together in its fit of begging, but he caught it all, and smiled at it. "I gave you what you wanted, so please, don't do it. Don't do it, Mariku, I'll...just kill me. If you have to do it, then kill me. You win, okay?"

When would his pet realize it was all hopeless? Perhaps never. "You're trying to make a deal with me, Hikari, but I never said there was a deal, nor that I wanted to win." He moved closer again, this time licking up all of those pretty, pretty tears of its. They were salty, as was expected, but it was the sweetest wine to him, just as the rest of his pet's body was. It was beautiful, and it was beautiful for having a body such as this. The only thing that annoyed him with his pet was that continuous ranting and begging it did. He wanted to probe the mouth more, but he supposed after he was done kissing it there, gagging it would come in handy. There was just one more thing other than kissing he wanted with the mouth before he silenced it.

And it was then that he finally called the pet by its name. "Malik...no, God, you're not fucking Malik, I am." He looked up back into those eyes of his pet's, and reveled in the ghostly glow they cast, the fear that plagued them, the horror, the sadness, the hope that was diminishing by the second. "Say my name, and don't say that shitty fake one you gave me. Call me by my real name." He leaned closer, so he could hear every sound that came from its mouth. "Say it, or you'll know what will happen."

The pet's lips trembled, breaths shaky and then its whole body began to quiver as it struggled with its words, to try and force out what its master wanted. "Y-you're...you are...Malik."

"That's not good enough. Say it again."

Frustrated and still scared, the pet slammed its eyes shut, saying it just a little louder." You are Malik."


"You are Malik!"

He slapped its face, grinning as it winced. "Not fucking good enough, now LOUDER!"

"YOU ARE MALIK!" The eyes snapped back open, begging, always pleading and begging for its torture to finally end.

And he finally gave it. Smiling, he gave a final kiss to its mouth. "Thank you, Hikari. I love it when you're honest about things, when you don't lie about it." Something that could've been identified as relief spread across the pet's face at the fact that its master had calmed, but it was quickly killed when something appeared in his hand. A new strap, one with a ball attached to it. He smiled at it, licking at the ball before shoving it into his pet's mouth, causing an audible and loud grunt of terror to come from the pet's now-muffled mouth. "I really do love your screams." The strap was fastened into place behind the pet's head. He had to flip its hair up to be able to clamp it down right, and moved the silky blonde locks back into place when everything was to his liking. "But, I could do without all the begging. It's really unbecoming, Hikari, though, I do appreciate you finally admitting that I'm the real Malik and you're the fabrication." He gave a smile, and moved to the object's face to lick at it. The fear in its eyes was something he recognized so well, but he never got used to it, and he drank that up, wishing he could keep his plaything looking like that forever. He loved this so much, of holding down the pet, dominating it, restraining it with straps. He admitted, the pet looked very sexy in its new attire he created for it, and the gag in its mouth was just as attractive, especially when the moans it made were muffled, trapped, just like it was.

And now he was finally ready, ready for what he came for. The pet had done its job, it had taken its punishment, and now he would finally make it scream, make it moan and arch, beg for more...make it love him.

His hands flew up to partner with his mouth and as they touched the toy on its chest, twiddled with its nipples and played with the exposed flesh, his mouth had at its face, licking his cheeks that were still coated with tears, licking its chin, kissing its nose, touching every part of his pet's body as he could. The toy was still through it all, scared, always scared, and terrified of what he would do to it, whether or not now would finally be the time he chose to kill it. Little did the pet know that killing it wasn't something he planned on doing. No, he'd keep it alive, torture it just enough that it might as well have been dead, but not fully killing it.

And the pet did just as he hoped. It reacted to his touches, though, not in a manner that he had been expecting. He wanted the pet to groan and moan with pleasure, beg for more of his fingers, but it wasn't. Its eyes were squinted in concentration, sweat was glistening on its forehead, and its body was absolutely still, only twitching when his fingers would brush against a sensitive part of skin. It was trying not to like it. It was trying to tune out all those touches, all the kisses and licks he was giving it, and try and take its mind away in hopes of escape.

The plaything should have known escape was not an option. It never was, and would never be. It would forever be trapped here, so he had to wonder, why would the toy not give in? As much as he loved the futile resistance, he figured after all this that the pet would be completely broken. Perhaps his little pet was stronger than he realized...

"Hikari." Again, he spoke to it, leaning down to brush his lips against the shell of its ear, causing it to shiver at his hot breath. "I really do love you, you know?" He kissed its ear, and it moaned into the gag, uncomfortable, humiliated, and he smiled at its reaction. This was it, what he'd been waiting for. Only a little longer, a little more touching, and maybe he could completely break the toy tonight. It was a goal to reach, and he would do all he could to reach it. "You're gorgeous. You're so exotic." His hands left its chest to reach up and touch its hair, running through the silky strands. "And your hair...God, I love it. It's so different...for you, at least." His hand left its hair to trail down to its cheek and stroke it in an almost loving manner, gazing into the wide eyes with the remnants of tears still shining in them. "And this is all mine. You may as well give up now, Hikari. Your fighting was fun for awhile, but I'm tired of it at the moment, and I don't want any struggling when I take you."

Had the gag not been in place, the pet would've begged, he knew, he could see it in its eyes, and it only stared at him as he moved away from its face and past its chest, running his fingers down its stomach and trailing them down its thighs, legs, and resting them there. The mouth was restrained, but the eyes spoke to him, begging him not to do it, pleading with him, and he ignored them for real this time, no longer interested in his captive's fear, for he was in this for the body now, and wanted to concentrate on exactly what he would do to it. His captive was growing agitated and shifted in its binds, the chains clanking together and the sounds drove him mad. He was sucking all of this in like it was his very air to breathe, and he made his first move by beginning to tickle the area around his object's crotch, drawing circles around its thighs and pretty much teasing the area without touching anything important.

He could hear a gasp coming from his object, and he looked up, wanting to see the expression on its face as he teased it with the mocking touches that would act as if they were going to hit something important, but draw away at the last second to tickle another area of skin. The captive's chest was falling and rising erratically and he knew it was panicking, probably even trying to think of some way it could still escape. Like that would work, like it really could escape in a place like this. It was so stupid, having hope like it did. He would enjoy crushing that hope into dust.

A finger was plopped into his mouth and he coated it with as much spit as he could before taking it out and positioning it in front of his object's entrance. Before inserting the lubricated digit, he gave another glance at his pet. "I would make you suck on my finger before doing this, but it seems you're a little tied up at the moment." He snickered at his own joke and with hardly any warning, slid the finger inside.

It was just the way he wanted it to happen, and the pet arched its back, creating a beautiful position he never knew its body could go into, and he wanted more of those movements, so he moved his finger around, rubbing up against the heated walls, searching for a certain spot. Only when he could clearly hear his pet moan through the gag did he know he'd hit it and he rubbed at that spot over and over, even inserting a second digit while his captive was busy moaning at the intrusion. "It feels good, doesn't it?" Another question that required no answer, not that the pet could've voiced it, but it didn't shake its head yes or no, it just lay there, its back still arched and its face scrunched up at the uncomfortable feeling of something inside of it. "Like, if I touch...here." He put yet another finger in and rubbed against the spot, and the pet quaked. It shook, shaking its head no, squirming a little, and he reached up with his opposite hand to give it a gentle squeeze to its knee that rested next to him, to remind it not to think it could get away and that the best thing to do was suck it up and go through with it.

The fingers flexed as he prepared the entrance as much as he could, rubbing against that spot every now and then, stretching, rubbing, stretching, getting a satisfying moan of discomfort from the pet, stretching, rubbing- And then something that made him angry.

He'd looked up right at the wrong time to see his captive...praying. Its bound wrists were in front of its body, its fingers linked together and its eyes were closed, almost in content. He never knew it did things like this, but here it was, as if giving into its last hope, that praying would be the one thing to save it, and even though he knew it was only giving itself false hope, it made him so, so mad to see this, and he removed his fingers, taking both hands and lunging at the captive, wrapping all ten fingers around its pretty little neck.

"You...little...shit...!" He strangled with every word, the captive's eyes now wide open, regretting what it just did. He shook it, squeezing its throat a little tighter with every word he spoke, and the captive audibly screamed into its gag. "When I tell you I want you to submit, I MEAN I WANT YOU TO FUCKING SUBMIT TO ME, DAMMIT!" He knew the object feared dying, and its muffled rambles were louder than ever, trying to tell him it was sorry, he knew, he knew this body, what it did, what it thought, everything about it, and he let go, rubbing and stroking the neck that had grown red, and the captive cried, tears thick and clear, the pet wailing into the gag, biting down onto the ball. He sighed and moved back down where he pulled himself out of his pants again, stroking and squeezing to get himself hard before doing this. "That's better. See what happens when you listen to me, Hikari? I won't hurt you as long as you listen to me." Even he knew that was bull. He'd already tortured the pet even when it did listen. He even tortured it with words, with lies.

He was finally hard, finally ready to do this, to take this body and truly make it his. Positioning himself back below, moving himself so that he was in front of its entrance, he gave a final look to his captive's face before taking it. It was so beautiful with those dark and tired circles under its eyes, with the bloodshot surrounding its irises, bringing out the violet in them even more. His captive was just so...gorgeous. He loved it.

And he loved this. He was about to do it. Not even knowing why, but doing it anyway, he spoke. "Are you ready?" Like it had a choice, like it had an option. Not waiting for an answer (not that there would have been one), he gave no warning and shoved in, going all the way to the hilt so his captive could go ahead and get used to him.

And it screamed, oh God, did it scream when he did that. It was muffled, of course, just like everything else had been, and it got him excited all over again. Its chained hands were covering its face as best as it could, as if it didn't want him seeing it in such a state of weakness, of raw vulnerability, and as if not wanting to watch him as he raped it.

He didn't care about that. Rape? This thing below him, this captive, it didn't need to worry about that. Raping it was the least of its worries, he wasn't raping it, he was owning it, taking the body that had been cruelly snatched from him. Raping, taking its virginity, was something laughable.

He'd had so much taken from him, that taking this didn't even compare. He would have to keep the captive here for six years, torture it for six years, maybe rape it everyday like this, make it live through all of that every waking moment of its life, and then maybe it would be a fair trade. It didn't know, it just didn't understand, and maybe thinking of all of this, of all these horrible memories coming back got him riled up just a bit, because he started going faster, still drowned in the sweet and trapped screams the pet made, and ignored the blood that pooled around him.

He'd taken that blood, he'd shed that blood, and the pet deserved everything that was happening to it. This was nothing.

But...he said he'd love it, because he really did love his pet. Was this love? If it was, it was his love, his twisted and crooked and tainted love that he used on his pet. If it didn't like it, then oh well, it would get used to it. He liked it. He liked loving the pet like this, and if he could, he would do it every night, rape it every night, touch and defile it, kiss it, maybe torture it when he got bored, humiliate the pet some more, just for his own amusement, yes, yes, that was all good.

He sped up, and his own pleasure began to cloud his mind and take over all the thoughts he was having, cancel them out so that he could only concentrate on building up his own orgasm (the pet's didn't really matter to him), and focus on making this body his.

The pet was crying now, painful tears seeping out, even through his fingers that had his eyes covered, and Mariku wanted to see them. Now. "Stop...Hikari. Take your...hands down." His own breaths were husky and disrupted his speech, and he was only half aware of what he'd said, but the pet heard it, and listened, dropping its hands and opening its eyes where he could see the fear-filled face, the horror and humiliation.

He was only doing to it what it did to him, taking a body from him, humiliating him and bringing him down as low as he could go. He supposed that not only was this session love to him, but payback as well.

The pet moaned loudly through its gag when he brushed against its sweet spot, and he did it again and again, wanting to hear more sounds, wanting to see its body react, and it did. It arched and shivered, jerked and did everything it was supposed to. It loved it, and he loved that he gave it to it, that his pet was his now.

He was close, the faster he went, the more he brushed against that spot to hear his captive's screams, and it was becoming harder and harder to control it. He didn't want this drawn out forever, but he kept at it, just to try.

The pet exploded all over itself, throwing its head back in physical and mental exhaustion, but he wasn't done! Damn the captive for not cumming with him! He held its thighs in place as he thrust in and out, in and out, faster, faster, building, tightening, and then he came, all inside his pet.

His pet was still crying, and Mariku moved out, some semen still dripping out of him, and scooted up next to his pet where he wrapped a tired arm around its shoulders and held it close, hugging onto it. "You're mine." It was a harsh whisper, a forced statement, but he figured the captive, the object, didn't need telling. It knew now. There was no hope. It was all over and done with, and it belonged to him now. "I'm never letting you out of here, Hikari." He moved closer to its neck, kissing at it, ignoring the little whimpers the object would make. "You're going to stay in here, in the back of our mind forever, for as long as I want you to." Another kiss, a tiny lick, and then he moved his fingers behind his captive's head to undo the gag. The ball rolled out of its mouth and toppled to the floor with a loud and annoying noise. Once the gag was removed, he attacked the mouth, shoving his tongue in, glad that this time there was zero resistance. His captive seemed broken this time. "I love you, Hikari, and I'm going to do this with you every night if I want to. Resist and I'll kill you." He didn't mean that, but the Hikari didn't need to know that. If it ever figured that out, he'd have to think of another form of blackmail.

He moved away from it, now recovered from his second orgasm that night, and he willed the mind to create another prison for the captive. It was already held down with straps and chains, but now it was trapped in a pyramid-shaped glass box that glowed beautifully with rainbow light. It really accented the Hikari's beauty, and it looked so appealing now inside that box, now with double restraints. An O-shaped object that dangled from the tip of the pyramid had the Hikari's chains attached to it, so not only was it inside the box, chained and strapped, but its arms were rested above its head in an uncomfortable position. Mariku didn't care about his pet's being comfortable or not. He just wanted to torture it some more...before he decided it was time for another session.

The pet's head dangled down again, now that it couldn't lie down, and Mariku moved onto his knees, touching the side of the glass and peering in at his pet, his captive, his trophy, his prize, his beautiful, beautiful Hikari.

His lips were pressed against the glass, fogging it up a little, and he whispered the haunting words, "This dream is ending. I'll be back tomorrow night. I love you, Hikari." And he stood up, walking back into the darkness, back to the real world.

Once no more footsteps could be heard, once it was sure he was gone for now, the one inside the pyramid lifted its head up, the true Malik, and he cried, knowing now there was no more hope, that he'd truly lost this time, knowing Mariku spoke the truth, and would be back to do this again, rape him again. He gave up any hope that may have been left over, not that there was much before, and it evaporated into dust.

Malik cried.