This story is my first Sesshoumaru/Kagome pairing. It was born out of a stressful period in which Wild was fighting the writing process, work was absurdly unpleasant, and reading through the archives only annoyed me further. Which was probably the worst part about it all. Usually I read to relax, but my tolerance for certain common stereotypes was particularly low and I wanted write. I wanted to write something that wouldn't fight me about it. And as always seems to happen with me, it grew into something unwieldy, involved and somewhat difficult to continue. But it's still going on. I blame Sesshoumaru, he always did have a mind of his own.

I do not own: 1) Inuyasha, the characters or world therefrom. Those belong to Rumiko Takahashi. 2) the original idea that spawn this specific plot. That was borrowed from the first chapter of Fortunesque's Hot Salsa found on Dokuga. I asked and received permission to post this from her. So do us a favor and read hers first (If you're old enough) then read mine and reassure her that mine is not a plagiarized copy of hers. I offered to let her read it, but she's outgrown the Inuyasha fandom and wasn't interested. Besides, hers was a one-shot and mine is certainly not (well over 20 chapters so far!)

Warnings: Mature content throughout. Possible Trigger content throughout. I warned you!

A Strange Request

Red stained eyes glowed with deleterious intent as they stalked the female through her every oblivious move. She was following a particular routine, perfunctorily going about the last of her daily chores as she had done all of the six days previous to this one that he had watched her, studied her routine and calculated every moment of vulnerability that he could exploit. Choosing the exact moment he desired for this particular night.

Tonight when she reached the correct moment of her regular day, her life was going to be thoroughly interrupted.

In the meantime, he choked the very air around her with his youki as he had done intermittently over the past days of his observations forcing her every inhale to draw more of his aura into her lungs where he imagined it took over control there. It appealed to him the thought that he was already tainting her most personal depths, usurping her body's unconscious control and conquering more of her with every breath. As darkness approached he fancied he could discern an increase in the labor of her breathing. He certainly didn't want her completely oblivious to his presence, nor did he desire her to know when to expect his move. She was off-balance when his energy stained the atmosphere about her, but failed to show it beyond the obvious change in her scent and the altering pace of her heart beat and laboring lungs.

She had no idea what this night held in store for her, that this night would be any different from any other where she had known of his watching. And he found he rather enjoyed the irony of it. Tonight, it would be he who controlled her, her pleasure, her pain, the sounds she could make, and the blood she would shed. It was all his and he'd never considered how enticing the mere thought of such an idea could be.

He needed the high of throwing his control out to take over the powerful creature who even now had begun her last walk to what she had no way of knowing would be her fate. Ultimate or not, this night would change some things irrevocably for her. And for him.

But at this moment, in the growing twilight that heralded the ever nearing moment of action, he cared little for the consequences. If he cared to consider them at all. Daylight was the time for responsible thoughts, and the day was fast yielding to the night of reckless abandon and the luxuries of fantasies.

The woman silently deposited her tools in their designated spot after dutifully cleaning them for temporary storage before disappearing into the small, poor excuse for a hut that she called home. He had no intent of trespassing there tonight. The little miko felt secure there and he would expect her to think he would take her there where prying eyes were less likely to see. Clandestine though this interlude was meant to be, the great youkai had no intention of confining his night within a ramshackle hut. No, her surrender to her conqueror would be bared for all the kami to see beneath a pantheon of stars.

His attention perked up pointedly, as the female emerged from the darker confines of the hut into the lengthening shadows of day's end. Her movements were sure and steady as she unhesitatingly traversed the well worn path that lead to the hot spring created from a long finished youkai battle for her nightly bath. The masculine predator dogged her footsteps as only one of his caliber could. With each step he pumped more of his youki into the air, allowing his purpose to taint the roiling pool of power and scaring off all the lesser youkai in the area along with most of the prey. All but the prey he was currently hunting. He took a moment to discard the armor that would only get in his way, he wouldn't need it this night.

She might have been able to sense the energy itself, but the finer points of intent were lost to her. And he preferred it that way. It was enough she knew he was there. He didn't feel like chasing his prize through the woods.

Patiently he waited once she reached the steaming pool. The weather of late had warmed enough to melt the last of winter's snow, but the nights still held the bite of the withdrawing season. Despite the frigid air, the miko had only missed a bath once in the last six days and he was determined she would miss it once again. She just didn't know it yet.

The female carefully stepped out of the fragile Zori that had seen better days. With deliberate motions she stripped her feet of the oft stained tabi before carefully rolling them up and setting them gently atop the fraying straw of her shoes and he held his breath, gathering his muscles for the moment that was fast approaching.

In a perfectly natural pace, the female untied the himo that kept her crimson hakama in place during her work. Her efforts were deliberate and absent, performed without conscious thought it seemed. The female was distracted, which he would allow, for now. It made the element of surprise so much more obtainable.

With practiced motions to preserve the customary seven creases in the fabric, the female gently slid the garment from her waist and carefully guided it down her legs until she was ready to step out of the cloth pooled around her ankles and her pale, bare ass winked at him in the darkness drawing attention to the real target and announcing the arrival of his moment.

In a silent rush, he had closed the distance left between him and his prey, removing his obi and quickly tying one end securely about her wrists and the other snugly about her head to gag all the sounds she might be tempted to make. The onsen was far closer to the village than her lonesome hut and he had no wish for his pleasure to be interrupted by some fool rushing to rescue the unknown screamer in the night.

With quick movements, he shoved his victim over a rock chosen for this purpose, kicking her discarded hakama under her knees and propping her front up by her trapped, clothed arms. Any harm done her this night would be by his conscious decisions and not by mere chance and happenstance. His knees forced her bent legs wide enough to accommodate his hips, perhaps spreading her farther than was comfortable for her.

With calculated, forceful motions he pressed her down and gathered her haori up out of his way before briefly removing the pressure to her back holding her down to line up his eager invader with the desired prize. A moment later, his clawed hand resumed its goal of flattening the female into the boulder as he drove into the unplundered depths of her kami given inner sanctuary without restraint.

The first forceful thrust of his cock tore into her long forgotten hymen, the surprise of its existence failed to register above the drive to pull back and plunge in deeper. The startled, pained squeak of his prey nearly induced a malicious chuckle as he continued to use her body. Her muscles were slick and tight, providing an ecstasy of friction as he moved against her.

With measured movements, he varied the depth and the strength of his thrusts until he had dragged the desired pleasure responses from his captured female. His desire was to prove just how little control she had in all of this. She would be raw from his actions, bruised, and empty by the time he was through. And she would enjoy it, against her will if need be, but she would know his power was absolute. But that was many hours off.

There was much to enjoy in this night and he planned to enjoy all that he could. Every female offered a banquet of orifices to exploit if one knew how best to use them. She would feel him for days, the ghost of his nocturnal abuse would ride over and under her skin long into the future.

He kept moving, experimenting with depth and angle to find how best to force the female's pleasure until he finally found a satisfactory number of triggers to set off a riot of pleasure on her behalf that also brought moments of orgasm for himself. Filling her with his seed and her own honey until she spilled over. The scent of her blood mixed with his toxic essence perfumed the air like an aphrodisiac, spurring him to more violently delve into her body with claws tangled in the worn clothing over her back and the plundering weapon that proved his gender, all while taunting him with the desire to taste of his efforts with deep applications of his tongue to the source.

There was no opportunity for him to do so at this moment. The female was not so exhausted she couldn't attempt to escape him should he give her the opportunity, but he still desired to taste of that heady aroma with other senses than his nose. With a growl, he raked the claws of his hand over the white collar of her haori, shredding the fabric and drawing red lines across the back of her previously unmarred shoulder. With a delighted smirk, he leaned forward to drag his rough tongue over the ruptured flesh, digging in slightly with his teeth when he found the flow beginning to ease before he was ready.

The taste of his poison mixed with the burning power of her blood shot straight to the pleasure centers of his brain and he began to thrust into the female's body more vigorously, jarring her forward with every meeting of his pelvis to her delectable rump and rocking her back with each lightning quick withdrawal from her tight body.

Oh she would revel in the rapture of his control long after he released her from it. He would make certain of it. For now he simply drew out orgasm after orgasm in effort to prove his ultimate control over her body and exhaust her for later plans. He had no intention to let this be his only method of contact with the woman. She could not see him as he plumbed the depths of her body. He couldn't force her to watch him as he dragged pleasure responses from her battered person. She could pretend he was other than who he was, and this was unacceptable. Only he had conquered her and only he would receive credit. Psychological warfare at its best.

But he would not rush to that portion of his evening. After all, his victim offered him many possibilities and he intended to explore at least two of them before his time was up.

Just as he was certain the female was beginning to get used to his irregular paced invasion, he chose to change it up. The slickness he had built between her body and his, as much her natural lubricant as his mildly corrosive seed, would be sufficient to ease the damage dealt in pursuit of his next delight.

With deliberate movements he lifted the steady pressure that had been constantly mashing his victimized woman into the rock he allowed to support her in order to properly line up for the next tempting orifice that had winked at him earlier and every night prior as he watched her nightly ritual. With one sharp movement he had found a new entry to the female, the added tightness of which nearly caused him to release in the initial thrust. Such simply wouldn't do. She wasn't supposed to be able to make him do anything.

Luckily the female distracted him by attempting to fight this latest intrusion with renewed rebellion.

He frowned in displeasure. Though glad she had prevented him from releasing prematurely, he had to force her to enjoy this penetration before he would allow her to know his enjoyment of it after all, he was irritated that she thought she had any say in the matter. He was in control. Fighting against his control was very bad for her.

And to prove this, he forced her trapped arms out from under her upper torso until her front lay uncomfortably flush with the unforgiving surface of the rough rock and her lower unclothed belly was forced to scrape against it with each thrust and retreat he made, his hand insuring this by applying the pressure previously felt on her shoulder to her lower back. The tender flesh there quickly became raw, then it became bloody adding to the slickness trickling to collect in the cloth placed to protect her knees.

He had to smirk at that. The fabric would be forever stained with their fluids and combined scent no matter how many washings it might see in the time to come, a permanent reminder of these activities.

The passing thought was abandoned as the female's reluctant orgasm tightened the muscles of her body despite the blood seeping from the scrapes over her abdomen, the sting of his toxins biting at her shoulder and the burning, stretched emptiness eating her womb. She was already familiar with pain as every living creature always would be, but he was determined she would know that even filled with agony he could force pleasure from her body.

And then he found his own pleasure in a singular moment in which he simultaneously managed to force her own. The sheath he'd buried his cock in tightened almost painfully around him, drawing out his pleasure before the body under him went completely limp.

Hn, she'd fainted. Whether from overload or exhaustion was little matter, as he willfully withdrew only to plunge once more into the first chasm of pleasure, riding the unconscious tremors that racked her body even while her mind was shut down.

His eyes glowed with self-satisfied triumph, as even while she was unconscious he controlled her pleasure. He emptied once more before he withdrew from the female entirely and pulled her body from its hunched position over the boulder to lay gently flat on her back with her abused bottom protected from the gritty dirt by the much stained red hakama she'd never had the chance to properly fold, the seven creases of virtue long rubbed out in his conquest of her body and senses.

With irreverent motions he kicked her feet apart, then nudged her knees wider, his booted feet widening the path he intended to follow with that marauding part of him that was already standing to attention, preparing to master this female once again. Not being one to deny himself in this state of mind, he lowered to his knees before reaching up to unravel his obi from her hands, knowing she hadn't the strength left to do him damage. In the space of one more breath he plunged once more into the depths of her and waited, propping himself up with his one hand while studying the delicate features of her face. There were lines there he never remembered seeing before, but then, he'd never studied his victim this close up.

He gave a wickedly violent thrust that jarred through her and drew a new crease between her brows as she slowly returned to consciousness, confused as to just why she was being thus roused. Slowly her eyes blinked open and he leaned down to growl in her ear "You will watch my conquest. You will acknowledge my rule over your body." He nipped her ear, "Or you will be left desperate to do so."

Then he reared back again and thrust forcefully against her already bruised, abused folds, dragging a near silent whimper from the female even as her eyes strained to remain open, leaking tears of painful pleasure and desperate abandon all the while attempting to focus her near blind gaze upon his every move in the darkness of the moonless night. He'd wanted her off balance. He'd wanted her to acknowledge his dominion. And he'd wanted the slight edge of her anxiety for he was certainly well aware that she could see almost nothing of him except the red glow of his eyes as he stared her down. And knowing such he knew her awareness of his intrusion was heightened to amazing extents for a human.

He knew she couldn't help but hear the slap of his flesh on hers as it echoed through the steamy air and silent night. She could hear her own breathing as it punctuated the violation of her flesh with each hitch of pain and near gasp of pleasure around the knotted silk that kept her noises in. She could probably even smell her own blood, smell the reality of his seed as it dribbled down to form an ever growing stain under her body, and scent the sweat of his body as it mixed with hers. She had to be very aware of every raw patch of skin, every scratch and scrape, and every mark he'd left on her person.

And he knew she'd be aware of that last for at least days to come if not longer. He wasn't too knowledgeable on the healing ability of humans. Perhaps she would scar.

He rather liked that, the thought of her branded forever as having been his.

The sky began to lighten with predawn light, curtailing his fun and he growled belligerently. The vibrations of which set off the last orgasm in his victim for the night in turn dragging his own climax from him in response after which the female succumbed to her exhaustion and he withdrew.

Carefully, he corrected his clothing, unwinding his obi from around her head and tying it expertly in its proper place at his waist. Then he looked to caring for his female, so that she wouldn't catch infection in the open wounds he'd delivered to her. His tongue carefully bathed the scrapes across her tummy and removed the excess fluids irritating the delicate tissues collected around his targeted prizes, savoring the taste of the last. Her virgin blood was a delicate treat he'd never get to sample again. With gentle motions he drew her up to lean against his crouched form so he could assess the stripes he'd left over her shoulder and treat them properly as well.

Humans could die from infections, he knew. And this night had never been about breaking her, or killing her, on purpose or by accident.

The golden disc finally breached the horizon and began its awaited ascent into the heavens of a new day, announcing the end of his time to touch the miko.

Sesshoumaru stepped back and waited. It wouldn't do to leave the miko unguarded and unconscious, especially with her shield down to broadcast her scent to him as he'd required when she'd made her request. It still amazed him she'd made such a request, though not as much as when she first broached the subject.

The miko, Kagome, had requested he rape her and violently too, and despite his unflappable facade, he'd been quite unable to process her words for several moments after she'd uttered them. He'd never even heard of anyone making such a request. Most females he'd encountered who had been subject to such behavior never wanted anything to do with a male again, especially if the encounter had been violent.

But then, this particular miko had always been unusual.

The qualifiers she'd put on her request were actually sensible ones despite the insanity of asking to be raped. He wasn't to break anything particularly important, such as rib bones, or any of the other skeletal supports required to protect her internal organs and nothing almost impossible to heal. She'd given him the night in which to grant her request, any night so long as it was dark was at his discretion, though she did suggest the new moon. The days were generally filled with duties and unplanned visits to demand her aid and she had no desire of being found out.

When he'd asked her why, her reasons had likewise been well thought out. A miko who didn't want to be mistaken for a whore as so many had become in these dark times, could not publicly take a lover. Were she to take a human lover in secret, the secret would soon become known as all such secrets generally did. Were she to take a youkai lover, she would be more than the outcast she was now. Instead of neglecting her as the village she had once taken for a home now did, they would hunt her down to demean her, rape her, and beat her. In all of the above she would end a whore, willingly or not. And passing travelers were out of the question for the same reason. This was not the age of one-night stands as she called them.

The only way she could maintain her status and achieve physical intimacy were if she were raped, violently enough so that no one would suspect she wanted it if it were ever found out. And she only trusted Sesshoumaru enough to be able to do so without it being an exceptionally fatal mistake on her part. Or so Sesshoumaru gathered from the silences she had matured enough to leave silent.

And she promised to keep her reiki to herself should he chose to grant her request.

He'd made one stipulation after ascertaining the miko had no designs to trap him in a relationship beyond the uneasy allies they had once been before Naraku's demise had torn her world apart. The miko had taken to shielding her scent for her own safety after she'd been driven out of the village by her former friends, he demanded she lower it in his presence.

He had not given a firm decision whether or not he would grant her request. But he required she allow him to scent her before he would even consider it.

He'd been pondering the miko's request for months, still confused as to why someone as pure as Kagome, as spirited and independent could ever wish for him to do such a thing. Sesshoumaru had needed more information, so he'd taken to visiting his Rin more often under the guise of insuring her safety after the old village miko's death of the previous Autumn. Originally he'd intended to remove her to his current abode, but the child he'd once cared for was to be married before the year was out and her betrothed lived in the village.

So instead, he'd set Jaken as her guardian in his stead and came to visit far more often than he formerly had.

In each trip he set aside time to watch and study the miko. Sometimes he tested her by sending out his youki to announce his presence, waiting for her scent to be released. More often he observed her without letting her know of his close proximity. Mostly the second coincided with any interaction she had with any creature that came begging for aid or to demean and debase her.

It was then he'd learned how the miko had come to live alone and isolated from what had once been her closest friends and allies. And the final battle against Naraku had spawned it all.

Sesshoumaru had been there when the little miko, a half-trained girl then, had single-handedly taken down the grotesque hanyou in a lucky blaze of power and determination. There had been more casualties than the spider that day and it appeared it was the little miko who'd been designated – wrongly – to pay for them.

Inuyasha blamed Kagome for the death of Kikyou, as the release and return of the little miko's soul had been the catalyst for Naraku's end. As such the inu hanyou son of his great and terrible father had upped the ante on his constant verbal and emotional abuse.

Sesshoumaru imagined the miko could have withstood it had he been the only one to blame her for the deaths that occurred that day. But the slayer blamed her former sister in arms for the death of the monk and the tortured boy that had been her brother. The monk had been taken by the void in his hand, as had the boy and the reanimated bones of the former keeper of the Shikon no Tama. Kagome had been lucky to get her soul back at all and without it, would never have defeated Naraku.

That was not how her detractors perceived it though.

Sometime in the aftermath of that battle the slayer and hanyou had mated, united under their desire to make the little miko pay for the wrongs they believed she had committed against their deceased loved ones. They used the union for nothing more than to cause pain to their one time travel companion. Going so far as to rut at the onsen just to prevent Kagome's bath as they had the one night the miko had skipped her nightly cleansing ritual in the last seven days.

He'd also learned it was the only time the mated pair pursued such physical intimacies.

Beyond this, Inuyasha ran by the dilapidated hut Kagome somehow maintained on her own every three days to dress her down verbally. Each time, Sesshoumaru had witnessed the atrocious barrage of words his own blood had dared to say about a female, human or not, former ally or not, he'd been disgusted by the shared genetics. Had the hanyou actually raised a hand against her, the inu probably would have leapt forward to end his miserable life just to stop the dishonor brought to his family line.

But now he understood, somewhat, why the miko would desire physical intimacy to the point of allowing violence to be visited upon her person.

Humans required a certain amount of tactile contact to retain their tenuous grasp on sanity and their desperation and zest for life. Some require less than others, but the miko had never been one to settle for as little as she'd been forced to suffer the last several years. She was desperate to feel physically close to another living creature. If there had been another orphan for her to take in, she might have been better off, but after Rin and her Shippou had grown beyond the casual hugging stage, she'd lost that comfort.

Two hours after the sun had risen, the miko surprised him by stirring awake. She didn't start by opening her eyes but rather curling up on her side as though she desired to make herself as small as possible. From his vantage point he could see in the growing light how the scratches on her shoulder had long since stopped seeping the blood drawn there, though her semi-white haori would never be free of the red stains that now decorated it.

He moved silently around to observe the abused portions of her anatomy left exposed when she drew her knees up to her chest. He was startled to note the abused flesh still seeped crimson-stained fluid over the reddened, irritated skin abused during the night. Perhaps he'd caused more damage than he'd intended

The miko let out a hoarse groan and shoved against the ground to prop herself up on her hip rather than her sore bottom. One hand planted itself in the damp, mushy ground while the other attempted to rub the sleep from her eyes. Finally she looked up, startled to find Sesshoumaru's clawed hand outstretched to lend her aid in rising. She gave him a brief wincing smile before placing her smaller hand in his much larger one, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

"Thank you, Sesshoumaru-sama," Kagome breathed gratefully despite the raw spikes of pain introducing themselves to her brain. She was exhausted and very sore, but she still had chores to do regardless. And she wasn't nearly so sore as she could've been given the license she'd invited him to take.

"You are damaged," the inu lord stated. Sesshoumaru was still uncertain as to how he should react to the events of the night. Her reaction wasn't what he expected.

Kagome blinked at him before, giving him a rueful smile, "It's nothing that won't heal." His concern for her was surprising, since she'd rather expected to suffer greater injuries than he'd actually delivered. Kagome had expected to shed more blood than the minor amount she had and was still losing. Don't get her wrong, her body was screaming at her to stop moving around and go back to sleep, especially every cleft and crevice below her waist but she'd really expected to suffer greater damage than the simple loss of her hymen and the general bruised feeling surrounding her pelvis.

"Your Reiki." the inu began, somehow not liking the thought that she could just heal all the damage that had been so painstakingly delivered to her fragile skin. Red flashed his displeasure through the amber eyes gazing fixedly at her face despite the flesh exposed beyond the ends of her haori. Once on her feet the white cloth had draped back into place, falling to about mid thigh, gracing her with a minor amount of modesty but still exposing the toned flesh of her long legs.

Kagome's eyes darted to the side and down, "It doesn't work that way. It can help to prevent infections, but I still have to heal it like anybody else, some of it will scar, that's just a reality of life." Though she doubted there would be too much scarring, if any and nothing she couldn't easily cover up. He really had gone easier on her than she'd foreseen.

Sesshoumaru gave a sharp nod, filing the information away for future use. His ever observant eyes noting the flashes of pain across her face as her weight shifted restlessly from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable and eager to return to her regular routine, or what constituted normalcy for this little discarded miko. "I will take my leave miko."

Kagome nodded absently, mildly surprised he hadn't left already. "Thank you again, Sesshoumaru-sama," her words conveyed her gratitude for a number of things including the abuse he'd delivered unto her in the night.

The inu lord gave another sharp nod to himself before he abruptly left the clearing in search of where he'd deposited his armor the night before. He'd planned his night to include an Inuyasha free morning after for her. He'd intended it to allow her to bask in the afterglow if she'd enjoyed it or deal with the aftermath if she hadn't. The little miko needed time to herself after such an event and he had the sneaking suspicion she had just thanked him for that added gift as well.