Summary: LJ prompt, version 1.
Warnings: Angst, dark/BDSM themes, and some definite non-con going on here.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or its characters.
Hands slid over his shoulders, slipping across tense muscles slick with sweat. Pressing him downward, forcing him to arch a body that was already trembling with strain. Harsh pants tore themselves from his throat, lingering in the air of the dark room. Hands clenched and brown eyes, swimming with a myriad of mixed emotions, slid shut, blocking out the shadowed walls and single barred window. The tantalizing glimpse of a crescent moon, promising freedom if only it could be reached.
"There's nothing you can do…"
A broken sob was ripped from quivering lips, fingers playing with his skin, learning his reactions and weaknesses. He had no more power, no more strength, not that he'd ever had enough anyway. It was only a matter of time before his sanity deserted him as well, and he was left completely under the control of the traitor, shattered and defeated. Cracks were already forming, destroying the calm sky of his inner world, shattering the peaceful blue of the skyscrapers.
"You will never escape from me."
A hand curled in his hair, pulling firmly back and slowly arching his neck, an unbreakable and eternal hold. Teeth sank into his throat, drawing blood and painting a symbol of his slavery upon his flesh. Marking him, claiming him for all the world to see, drawing chains around his soul. Another brush of fingers, heightening the need and shame curled in his stomach, wrenching another strangled sound from him, intensifying the tremble of muscles forced into tension for too long. "Please… Stop…"
"Give in, relax, give yourself to me."
He was jerked roughly off the edge, into the point of no return, straining, chains drawing tight against his wrists, a cry of anguish and shame echoing around the small room for a moment. His eyes flew open, meeting satisfied brown orbs that were filled with dark amusement. His hair was released, and the same hand wound around his jaw, tilting his head even further back. Silence reigned for a moment before words came from the traitor's smirking mouth.
"Are you ready to stop fighting?"
"Never." came the answer, filled with an undetermined source of strength. His jaw was released and a dark laugh filled the room, lips pressed against the mark on his neck.
"You will bow before me, Kurosaki, have no doubt of that."
"One way or another, you will call me master."