Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Devil And Demon ❯ Mind-Warp ( Chapter 3 )

Bombayoni:

I hope you got the info this time! And thanks for all the encouraging reviews!

 

Nita-sama:

Well, if you've got problems with pain and blood-letting, then you might want to skip the first and third part of this chapter. I don't think the Devil is able to treat Wufei nicely, and it's just a step away from real torture. The next chapter though will probably be more to your liking ;-)

 

Anissa:

Thanks so much for your great help with this fanfic. You do such a great work as a beta-reader!

 

Ryoko-onee:

It's always good to hear that someone appreciates my work. Thanks for the great review!

 

__________

 

A/N:

Many thanks to Anissa and the wonderful job she's doing as beta-reader!

 

 

~oooOoooOoooxxxxxxxxxxxxoooOoooOooo~

 

 

Mind-Warp

 

 

How in the world had Maxwell gotten him to agree with this outrageous spiel?

 

Wufei scowled at all people daring to look at him while he was following the Duo from Hell - outfitted in barely more than a black leather thong and a black collar with a short leash that was currently being held by Yuy.

 

Pardon.

 

The Demon.

 

Snorting, Wufei thought about what had happened a few hours earlier. When they had appeared in his room at 9 pm straight, he had still held the illusion that they would finally answer his questions about their past. To his dismay though, they had done nothing of the sort. Yuy had been holding him immobile while Maxwell was undressing Wufei. He had thrown every curse he knew at them, but all that had earned him was being gagged by an irate Maxwell. Resistance had been futile because of Yuy's enhanced strength; which did not mean that he had not tried though.

 

After his third almost-escape, Wufei had been threatened to be dragged to the club in his birthday suit if he didn't cooperate, which had rendered him docile pretty fast after he had realized Maxwell would actually go through with it. Fuming, he had lain on the bed, gagged with some cloth and restrained by Yuy's iron grip, watching in something akin to horror when Maxwell had shown him what he was supposed to wear. But the argument that he could either wear that - or nothing at all - had quickly convinced him of letting himself be dressed in that flimsy garment.

 

To think about it - when they had finally left for the club, he was even glad that they had let him wear shoes and a long trench-coat. The injustice of that was outrageous.

 

Shaking his head defiantly, he swore to himself that Maxwell would pay for that.

 

Pardon.

 

The Devil would pay.

 

During their short drive to the club, they had told him to only call them by their cover names, even in his thoughts. As if he was a rookie who would let something like that slip, not a highly trained Gundam pilot. Yes, they would definitely pay, both of them.

 

A sharp tug on the leash fastened to his collar quickly brought him back to the present, alerting him to the fact that the Duo from Hell had stopped. Immediately, Wufei was swamped by eager hands trying to touch him. A little bit unnerved, he pressed himself closer to Maxwell and Yuy, trying to benefit from the no-touching aura that seemed to surround them. But the groping hands only barely shrunk back before continuing with renewed vigor, making him shy back even more.

 

Suddenly, steely arms held him fast in place, and on instinct, he tried to get out of the powerful embrace. A familiar voice whispering into his ear let him freeze though. “So eager, little Dragon? Don't worry, the Devil will have you soon enough, and there is nothing you can do about it. Just try to enjoy it like you did last night. From my own experience, I can tell you that it will only get worse if you fight him.”

 

One of the arms holding him slid down his front and started caressing his skin with a calloused hand. Wufei inhaled sharply, because those skilled fingers felt so different from all the unwelcome touches he had been enduring so far. When Yuy thought the ex-pilot had relaxed enough, he followed the Devil to the room that had been exclusively reserved for the few people the Owner had invited for some private entertainment. The whole room was littered with shackles, crops, paddles, ropes, canes, whips, handcuffs, and other sex-toys. It looked more like a torture chamber than anything else, and Chang must have gotten the same impression because he stiffened besides Yuy.

 

“Release him.”

 

The dark voice promising pain to anybody daring to disobey it made Yuy comply immediately, leaving Chang alone at the entrance to the room. Before the Dragon could make any move though, his leash was grabbed by the Devil, dragging him to the center of the slightly elevated stage surrounded by comfortable plush arm-chairs. Then, Changs wrists were fastened to a pair of handcuffs dangling from the ceiling. Yuy admired the slender body that was trembling almost imperceptibly from all the hungry stares it received. His eyes caught the two onyx depths of the Dragon and tried to reassure him, only being able to guess at what was going on in the mind hidden behind them.

 

A first, almost tender smack with the Devil's favorite tool, the riding crop, made Chang flinch a little bit, but the contact between their eyes was not broken. Yuy could see how the Dragon was steeling himself, closing himself off from all the pain. An expression that told Yuy to go crossed the fine Asian features, then they became a blank mask and their connection was severed. Yuy nodded in the Dragon's direction, then he disappeared silently into the crowd.

 

Wufei watched Yuy vanish and automatically placed himself in a light meditation where he could ignore everything going on around him. It was bad enough that he had practically given the Devil carte blanche permission to do whatever necessary; there just had to be vultures feasting on his pain, too. Human scum indulging in the suffering of others. He was not going to further such condemnable actions by letting that vermin feed on his agony! Those peepers could take their whole club and…

 

“No,” a harsh voice interrupted him, “Don't do that! If you don't react, you are not worth watching and then their attention will waver…”

 

The riding crop was caressing the taut skin across Wufei's stomach, and he had to swallow. Zechs had said the same. Don't hide your pain. But he didn't want to - he couldn't show his pain in front of those scavengers watching hungrily. First, his ethics demanded so, secondly, his training as a Gundam pilot.

 

Suddenly, his sight went black. He was being blindfolded. Apparently, the Devil was aware of his problems and was applying the childish motto `I can't see them so they can't see me either'. Did Maxwell really think so little of him?

 

Trying to struggle, he turned his head away, earning himself a slap on his butt. When he automatically flinched away, the Devil's seductive voice appeared once again. “Good, this is it. React without thinking.”

 

The crop lashed across his thighs, and this time, Wufei hissed in pain and anger.

 

“Focus on your body. Feel it.”

 

Gloved fingers were dancing lightly over his skin, almost tickling, and then the riding crop again. What the hell was Maxwell - oh, pardon, the Devil - doing? Did he really think that the alternating treatment of soft and harsh was going to work on him?

 

Rigidly, he stood there, stoically enduring the pain, only sometimes grunting harshly when an especially vicious strike cut his skin. It continued in that fashion for several minutes, the riding crop dancing on his flesh. He never knew when or where it would strike next, leaving him tense and worried, his pain and his anger only barely controlled by his meditation.

 

He could hear the audience shuffling in their seats, could smell their rising excitement in the air, could feel their anticipation vibrating in the room. Vultures, that was what they were. He was almost trembling from disgust.

 

A lash of fire across his ribs, and a reflexive tightening of his abs. Something hard suddenly poking into the small of his back, and he flinched. The handle of the riding crop? Then a well placed kick to the back of his knees that made his legs buckle, involuntarily dropping him to his knees. He hissed at the complaints of his wrists that were suddenly bearing most of his weight, stretched painfully tight in the handcuffs they were shackled to.

 

A body pressing against him from behind prevented his feet from getting back under his body to support their share of his weight. A hand caught in his hair, bending his head backwards until he thought he couldn't breathe anymore, then a hissing whisper in his ears that made him freeze almost immediately.

 

“What the hell do you think you are doing?”

 

He could feel Maxwell force those words through clenched teeth, a sound of barely restrained - rage? Anguish? - accompanied by steely fingers digging mercilessly into his already sore shoulders. Maxwell continued, almost desperately.

 

“Wu, that's your last warning! I can't hold it off any longer, and when I let go, you'd better damn well be prepared to get the worst mind-fuck of your life! If you don't work with me here, I can't promise you'll come through intact…”

 

Maxwell had been holding back for him? Damn him, did he think he couldn't take the heat? Why the hell was Maxwell - oh, pardon, the Devil - risking the mission just to make him more comfortable?

 

A hard slap into the face tore him out of his internal rant, and suddenly, he sensed the change in the body behind him. There was something almost palpable radiating from Maxwell now, bypassing all his conscious thoughts in favor of instilling a chilling fear deep in his subconsciousness. He did not dare move, frozen in place by the sudden difference in attitude. What the hell was Maxwell doing?

 

No, that was not Maxwell anymore. It was the Devil. The true Devil, not Maxwell trying to act like the Devil.

 

The predator pressing itself against his back was definitely another person. What the hell was going on?

 

Nothing warned him of the hot mouth suddenly pouncing on his, vicious, demanding, brutal. It held similar qualities to the blood-laced kiss he had received from the Devil the day before, convincing him more and more that he was now really dealing with the man who was almost a legend in the scene. With that uncontested hunter looming over him, Wufei's body was frighteningly fast slipping into the same defensiveness he had assumed the day before, and his mind was not far behind despite all his struggles. Damn it, what the hell had he gotten himself into this time?

 

He was hurting, his arms were hurting, his neck was hurting, and the lips pressing down on his were adding even more weight to his sore wrists. His whole body was burning with need of fresh air, making him struggle to get away from the Devil holding him captive, depleting his precious oxygen reserves even more. And to his concern, he was starting to react to the sheer presence of the predator bearing down on him.

 

Then suddenly, both the body and the mouth were gone, but the growling, slightly husky voice easily cut through the roaring in his ears. “Feel it, the burning in your chest? The need? You're beginning to want something. Want something desperately, don't you?”

 

Wufei barely suppressed the shudder running through his muscles and tried to ignore the Devil's words for they made him all too aware of his protesting, needy body. All of a sudden, he was glad for the blindfold, glad that he didn't have to look at the audience of vultures surrounding him. He didn't want to see their hungry faces staring at him as if he was food. And the Devil hadn't even really begun yet…

 

Another strike of the riding crop, this time onto his arched back, then, quickly, one just above his groin. His desperate fight for composure prevented him from restraining a small moan, and he heard the Devil chuckle eerily, like an artist appreciating his own work.

 

“Yessss… gorgeoussssss…”

 

He was also glad that the blindfold prevented him from looking at the expression on the Devil's face, which was no doubt contorted in a malevolent grimace of vicious glee. Somehow, the Devil was getting under his skin in a way no one else had before, not even Treize. And that was something he didn't like at all.

 

Several more strikes fell on his back and his stomach until he thought he was wearing a ring of fire that burned him from the outside, while his oxygen-deprived body burned from the inside. His arched position did not allow for a deep breath, and suppressing his body's natural reactions was quickly becoming an impossible feat.

 

Ever since the Devil's sudden appearance, he had been struggling to retain the necessary distance that would allow him to endure hours and days of torture, a distance that would help him through this mission. But the Devil was mercilessly dragging him into the present with an ease that was almost scary.

 

Somehow, Wufei's body had turned traitorous and reacted to the pain and dominance the Devil exuded without asking his mind first. At first, it had been slight twitches he had barely gotten under control before they told of his slipping composure. But then, he was starting to arch away from the strikes of the riding crop that made his skin burn, and then the dam broke. He was writhing as far as he could, somehow trying to alleviate the fire licking at him from all sides and the complaints of his arms.

 

The Devil was now outright laughing, and he felt humiliated, but he couldn't stop himself. His body's command for air was stronger, so he twisted, struggled to get his feet back under him. When he couldn't stand up though, he almost howled in defeat, wanting to voice his anger at the humiliating situation.

 

“Are you already complaining?”

 

He scowled into the direction the voice came from, only to be startled by a hard slap on his buttocks.

 

“Now, don't get cocky. I think, for that I will just let you hang there some more time.”

 

Just in the nick of time, he suppressed a groan by biting on his lower lip, swearing to himself that he would not volunteer any sound. Trying to endure, he just hung there, not moving very much except for panting. To his surprise, the burning in his lungs got easier, although it never vanished completely. The burning in his arms and his tension were mounting though because he expected the Devil to strike any moment now. But it did not come.

 

His righteous anger at those people who thrived on seeing others in pain had already fled from his mind in favor of the powerful, mesmerizing aura of the predator prowling around his shackled form. He could only hear the audience shift in their seats, but the master of stealth stayed hidden from his senses.

 

Where was he?

 

Restlessness was invading him as his mind unwillingly imagined what the Devil could be doing. And none of them were good images. A minimal change in the way the sound reached his right ear was the only warning he got before a sultry voice purred: “Miss me?”

 

 

~oooOoooOoooxxxxxxxxxxxxoooOoooOooo~

 

 

For the past hour, Officer Berns had been watching the Devil play with his current pet, a marvelous Asian beauty whose character he couldn't quite understand. The way the Chinese boy had moved and behaved just screamed innocent, scared bystander; but on the other hand, he seemed to know what was going on, gradually relaxing into the stimulation the Devil provided. His pain tolerance was incredibly high, and he never really had panicked.

 

That actually was the strangest thing. The boy's tanned skin was marred by several big scars that spoke of a close intimacy with pain, but where had he gained that kind of experience? It couldn't have been too traumatizing of an event, because he showed no signs of intense fright. Sure, there were a body's normal reactions to pain like flinching away from it; the rest though clearly was not natural.

 

This one knew pain like a brother, and that at the age of 18, 19, perhaps even 20. The age of Asians was hard to estimate. Had he been a victim of the same criminal that had warped both Devil and Demon?

 

From the profiles he had constructed, he knew that this was the Little Dragon, the person the Duo from Hell had been talking about in their room last night. His real name was nowhere to be found, but that one held true for Devil and Demon and several other regular customers as well, so no real evidence for a connection to the Duo from Hell.

 

But the Dragon as he was called in the scene was a top, better than many, and definitely more beautiful than most. He was known to be favoring Ice, a cross-dresser who had formerly belonged to Fire. Why the Dragon had ended up as a bottom for such a hard-core performance was unclear though.

 

After some warm-up that was quite harsh, even for the Devil, the Dragon was covered in his own blood; he had never said anything more than a few grunts though.

Mentally, Berns was making notes to add them to their profiles as soon as he got out of the club. If that wasn't enough incriminating evidence against whoever had done that to those children, he didn't know what would be.

 

At that point of time, the audience started whispering in low tones, and Berns couldn't help but overhear some comments. They all concerned the last time somebody had resisted the Devil so thoroughly, and that had been when Devil and Demon had met. Of course, nobody had seen it, but they had heard it from somebody who knew somebody else who had heard it from a third party who had actually been there.

 

Before meeting the Devil, the Demon had been playing his own game of seduction and dominance, showing exactly what his targeted person wanted to see. But with the Devil, he had been different. He had resisted wherever he could, as if he had been testing Devil's determination to be in control. The Devil seemed to have passed that test though, because the Demon now submitted to him without reservations, something he had never done for anybody else.

 

Berns did not know what exactly had happened at the first meeting of Devil and Demon, but it must have been more intense than anything ever seen before. And back then, both of them had been approximately 15 years old. That must have been one seriously loony fucker who had warped those children that much. Berns was glad that this case would be over soon.

 

Well, the fieldwork, anyways. But that had already been the hardest part, making himself well-known enough in the scene that he got any real information about Devil and Demon. And now, the Dragon apparently, too.

 

Since his meeting with Demon, the Devil only seemed to have gained more skills, and those, he currently was unleashing at the Dragon who was still blindfolded and hanging once again from shackles. This time though, he was standing with an iron bar spreading his feet.

 

A long time ago, the Dragon had lost the flimsy thong he had been wearing, and his partially aroused penis was clear for everybody to see. Blood was trickling down his arms; sweat was covering his body; he was chewing on his lip.

 

It was a supreme battle of wills. Who would give up sooner, Devil or Dragon?

 

Neither seemed to be willing to admit defeat, so the Devil was playing all of his tricks, and the Dragon was exerting iron control over himself.

 

Suddenly, the Devil's tactics seemed to be changing. He abandoned his riding crop and knelt on the hard floor to place a cock-ring around the Dragon's semi-erect member, and then sucked him while running his hands roughly over strong thighs covered in welts and gashes. The Dragon stiffened, and a moan was torn from his throat, the loudest one so far. He was brought to the brink of insanity - and then abandoned before he could release.

 

His suffering was so erotic that Berns had gotten a hard-on almost immediately, a helpless response despite his oath to find those responsible for the sexual abuse of minors. He was really glad that he had finally found Devil and Demon and that the field-work would be over with soon, because to his morbid fascination, he had discovered that he was actually enjoying some aspects of the scene. But police officers were not supposed to get off on watching people being tied up and hit, were they?

 

From what he could see though he was not the only one who was sexually excited by the performance of the two beautiful youths on stage. Some guests even used their pets to pleasure themselves while watching the Devil play with the Dragon. But at least those pets had entered the scene willingly. Or hadn't they?

 

 

~oooOoooOoooxxxxxxxxxxxxoooOoooOooo~

 

 

“Now, do not move whatever might come.”

 

Wufei felt the hot, growling breath on his neck, making him shiver. He had been so close to coming, but the Devil had held him back, and now, his body was still trembling from its closeness to orgasm. Only a very small part of his mind was still functioning rationally, and that part admired the Devil's skill.

 

The methodic way the Devil had coerced him to participate. The genius that had been applied to drawing out all those responses he would rather have hidden. The insidious combination of unquestionable power and subliminal danger. It was a heady cocktail that was tackling his mental defenses one by one.

 

The gradual slowness with which the Devil had been taking him to the brink had been exhilarating and excruciating at the same time. The Devil had always seen to it that the tension wiring his body had been building up agonizingly slow, robbing him of almost all coherency by now. He had been kept at the brink for an unimaginably long amount of time, not allowed to draw back, and not allowed to jump.

 

When he had been hanging over the brink, he had almost been ready to plead with the Devil, audience or no audience. But then, he had been pulled back a little bit, not enough to extinguish the burning need that made his skin excruciatingly sensitive, but enough to make him realize what had almost happened. And that scared him.

 

He had almost been ready to forsake his principles and throw his pride away, something that was so deeply engrained in his personality that he would not be Chang Wufei without it. It had kept him sane during the war by reminding him that he was an honorable warrior, the only thing preventing him from becoming a cold-blooded mass-murderer. And now, he would have given it up for a single touch from the Devil.

 

Shivering, he felt the sensations wreak havoc in his body. The welts from the riding crop hurt, his wrists screamed in agony, and his legs were trembling from being spread so far while still being forced to support his weight. And the Devil was so close, such a maddeningly intense aura beating against his senses inflaming his nerves once again. He could feel the hot breath wash over his bare skin, driving him almost insane with the writhing need to do something.

 

He was just glad that Treize had never been as thorough. The Devil was getting to him in a way Treize never had. That heady cocktail was wearing down on his mental defenses, reducing him step by step to … well, what? What would he be when all of his ideals were taken away from him? He knew it was only a matter of time until he'd break one of his convictions, and then what would he become? He was seriously worried about that answer.

 

But it was too late now to do anything. Even if he wanted, he could not get away. The Devil was too good, and he had the upper hand. Wufei wondered how long his core principles were going to last under that onslaught of sensation and determination. He just hoped that he lasted long enough for the mission to be successful.

 

Shivering again, he obeyed the Devil's command to stay still. He felt a cool, flat piece of metal slide in between the blindfold and the skin on his temple, and he realized it was a knife. And he would bet on it that the blade was razor-sharp. One flinch of either himself or the Devil, and he could be seriously hurt. This was a very dangerous game, but deep inside, he welcomed the thrill, the knowledge that neither of them could allow themselves any mistake.

 

Another knife was pressing coolly against his skin beneath the blindfold, hard steel against vulnerable flesh. He knew what the Devil was planning to do, and he didn't protest. If anybody could pull this off, then it was the Devil, wielding his knives with a mastery matched by very few.

 

Gripping both knife handles securely, the Devil's knuckles brushed against his cheeks, then, with a quick jerk, they were gone, and the blindfold fell away, cleanly severed at both of his temples, his skin untouched. Wufei blinked a few times because of the sudden light flooding his vision, stiffening almost instantly. There were so many people watching him with eyes that screamed hunger. But a sudden blade pressing against his throat tore him out of the panic he hadn't even realized was rising in his throat.

 

“Uh-uh, wouldn't want to go there if I were you…”

 

The tip of the other blade was slowly sliding down his spine, leaving goose bumps in its wake. It crawled further down, until the cold metal was wedged between his buttocks. And then, it stopped right against the lower end of his tailbone. He could feel the edge pressing against the sensitive skin, not harming him yet, but being dangerously close to it. If he moved now, he would skewer himself alive.

 

Holding himself as still as possible, he tried to breathe around the blade at his throat. After a short eternity with the Devil pressing up so very close to him, the knife threatening his neck was finally removed. The other one though kept up a steady pressure, and to his amazement, it was slowly driving him insane. The point was so maddeningly close to his entrance, but still so far away, sending waves of primal need through his body until he thought he couldn't bear it anymore, and then some.

 

Was it the thrill of danger that was turning him on? Or was it the knowledge that Duo / the Devil / an ex-pilot was the one responsible?

 

Long ago, he had lost all sight and all hearing, focusing solely on the small touches that were burning on his injured skin, kindling the inferno racing through his veins even more. The frigid metal between his buttocks was gradually warming, loosing its chilling coldness until he could only feel its sharp tip anymore. But all of a sudden, the second blade returned to his throat, and he almost cried out when the Devil bit down hard on his shoulder, right over the bite-mark the Demon had left yesterday.

 

A hot tongue was sucking at his skin caught between teeth, chewing, licking the spot while the second blade was slowly traveling to his chest, circling his nipples dangerously close. His whole world only consisted of three focal points: the sharp tip between his buttocks, the hot mouth on his neck and the cool blade sliding down his chest, retreating to the curls around his erection. Biting his lips, he desperately hoped it would not move where he thought it might, but it was in vain. The steel was crawling up his erection, past his cock-ring, stroking his pulsing flesh with the flat side of the blade.

 

He was burning, trying to suppress the trembling of incredibly tense muscles, fighting the touches that were transmuting the pain all over his body into flaming pleasure. And there was pain, lots of it, but somehow, it just added to the tension wiring his body. He rationally knew that it was pain; he knew that it was supposed to be an unpleasant feeling. But somehow, his body didn't seem to accept that, reacting in the very same way he had sworn to never tread on after Treize's death.

 

He thought his heart would explode, that his lungs would burst, but the real fire was roaring in his lower body, between his legs, and up to the mouth still sucking at his neck. Sensations were pooling, adding to each other, summing up to an unbearable intensity. He wanted release from this hell; he needed to cool off so desperately. He needed…

 

PainPLEASURE storming his mind in waves of mind-shattering intensity.

 

PainPLEASURE born of roaring fire, painPLEASURE from touch.

 

PainPLEASURE coupled with undeniable want and need battering at his thoughts.

 

And he was caught, bound, not able to name the sensations tearing his body apart. Blinding want. All-consuming need. Wanting to ask for release, needing to jump over the brink.

 

Whispering inaudibly, he was begging to deaf ears.

 

Please… please… I need… please… it's so hot… please…

 

From far away, he realized that the mouth and the blades had left, and he wanted to sob in desperation. His need was still burning uncontrollably, ravaging his body. He wanted…

 

Dimly, he saw that he was being moved, his arms freed from the shackles, a strong body positioning him on all fours. Purple eyes and a voice telling him that he wasn't allowed to collapse.

 

Yes… yes…, he would not … just… cool burning… need… please…

 

A devilish smile was sending oil onto the flames, then something big, slick, cold pressing at his anus. A cruel thrust, and painPLEASURE was flooding his system anew. Nothing torn, but…

 

Bracing himself for a harsh retreat, he was surprised by a stinging sensation on his back. It wasn't… yes, it was…

 

Clawing at the ground in frustration, he desperately tried not to concentrate on the big, still thing shoved up his ass, but to no avail. The strikes across his back shook him with their ferocity, and with every strike, the dildo inside him moved, though never enough. A new dimension had been added to his torture, and he was trembling uncontrollably in a teeth-gritting attempt to not just break down. Treize had never gone that far…

 

Please… need… so much…

 

Do you really?

 

Yessss… please…

 

Fighting the heat although he knew he was doomed to failure.

 

PainPLEASURE stinging across his backside, driving the dildo deeper and deeper into his body, making him almost loose… loose what?

 

Loose control.

 

PainPLEASURE when another blow hit the thing buried inside him. But he… he needed it to go away, to stay, to move harder, to…

 

He needed it to… painPLEASURE…

 

Please… I need…

 

Would it be so bad to loose control?

 

Yes, because…

 

But he needed it so much, burning, writhing…

 

Give up your control and I help you.

 

NO! Never… I will never…

 

An especially hard strike cut him off, unleashing a torrent of painPLEASURE.

 

He screamed and arched his back until he thought it would break as he tumbled towards the brink. The need, the want did not vanish though. Instead something was holding him back so that he could see nothing except for the churning abyss beneath him, but he was denied the last step to salvation.

 

Fighting the grip while need was wrecking his body proved impossible, tearing a blood-curling scream from his throat that sounded more like the howling of an injured animal than human. Deep down inside him, he felt something snap -

 

Give up your control, and I will let you go.

 

No…

 

But his struggles were growing weaker as the heat sapped the rest of his strength.

 

Give up.

 

I… can't…

 

To his horror, he found out that he couldn't stop fighting the need even if he wanted to. He wanted to end this madness so desperately, but he couldn't.

 

Yes, you can.

 

He was holding himself together by sheer force of will, and he was unwilling to let go. He was… afraid. Afraid of the consequences.

 

Dimly, he felt a pair of hands grabbing his head, raising it until he met violet eyes. Weakly, he tried to move away, but he couldn't any more. The following words embedded themselves in this brain together with the cruel stare smirking down at him.

 

You can't back out anymore. You can only go forwards. Either keep your precious control and be destroyed in the process, or let go and be mine forever. Your choice.

 

Fearfully, he looked into the violet orbs. All the need that had been accumulating hurt indescribably. The agony was mind-wrecking, and he doubted he could stay intact for long anymore.

 

Something had to give, and it certainly wasn't going to be the Devil in front of him.

 

Then, he felt something give way deep down inside him, the crack widening dangerously fast. The pent-up need was tearing through him so forcefully that it left tears in his eyes, burning away all resistance in the process. Everything he had previously been was swept away in the rush; nothing was holding him together anymore. The flames burned uncontrollably.

 

The only thing keeping him sane were purple eyes hovering in front of him, and he knew if they went away, he would be swept away forever. There was only one possible course of action left, principles or no principles.

 

Painfully lowering his gaze, he whispered. “Do with me whatever you want. Master.”

 

A soft hand was stroking his undone hair, and his master replied. “Good. Now don't move.”

 

Fingers were touching his deeply red erection lightly, brushing against the phallus inside him more or less accidentally, making him shiver. They opened the ring that denied him release, and his shivering trembled down to his toes and up again until his whole skin was tingling.

 

“Get up.”

 

Shakily, he managed to sit back on his heels, and then force his body to stand on weak legs. He saw that the Devil had donned black leather gloves that were tipped off with sharp 2-inch metal claws, making him look like a dangerous tiger, or better, a sleek panther. He wasn't going to…

 

 

~oooOoooOoooxxxxxxxxxxxxoooOoooOooo~

 

 

Swallowing hard, Officer Berns watched the last of the show. The Devil had proceeded terribly methodically, gradually adding pressure until the Dragon couldn't take it anymore. If the two hours of watching the Devil tease his prey had already been torture for him, he did not want to know what it had been like for the Dragon. But now, the Dragon had submitted to the Devil, and it was not going to take long anymore. The Dragon was bleeding considerably from the various gashes littering his body, and it looked as if the Devil was moving in for the kill.

 

He stood behind his prey, letting gloved hands graze the Dragon's skin with only the tip of his claws. Wetting his lips, Berns watched the Dragon tremble when the Devil pressed his body against the sore back of his victim.

 

“They are a great sight, aren't they?”

 

Startled, he turned around to the sudden voice whispering into his left ear. Or better, he tried to turn around, because a pair of strong, wiry arms held him immobile, forcing him to watch the Devil pleasure the Dragon. To his amazement, whoever was holding him mirrored the Devil's moves exactly. Fingernails brushing down his arms when the Devil grazed his claws over the Dragon's skin, strong hands slipping into his shirt to play with his nipples. Those hands were unbelievably skilled, and the erotic sight of the Dragon writhing on stage made him even harder than he had previously been.

 

Who was that man that was trying to jerk him off?

 

But soon, those questions were gone from his mind with the haze of pleasure clouding his brain. The Dragon was shivering stronger, the metal claws using more force. They were slashing at skin, leaving red trails that soon filled with blood. With his mouth, the Devil nuzzled the soft skin around his pet's neck, licking, nibbling, teasing.

 

Finally, it looked as if the Dragon couldn't bear the torture anymore. He pressed harder against the gloved hands, not minding the claws digging into his flesh, fingers clenched to tight fists by his sides, tremors wracking his body. One arm of the Devil snuck around the bloodied chest, holding his pet even closer to him while the other one finally wandered down to the erection that had been neglected for such a long time. With a last violent shudder and a hoarse scream that raised all the fine hairs on Bern's body, the Dragon came when the Devil suddenly tightened his hold and bit down.

 

Berns himself was set on fire from the erotic display and the skilled hands playing his body like a finely tuned instrument. Biting his lip, he came hard into his pants, moaning softly from the pleasure. For a while, he was only panting, trying to recover and regain his dignity. The person behind him still had him fastened securely to the plush chair, but at least those hands didn't move anymore.

 

Swallowing hard, he asked. “Who are you?”

 

The head resting on his shoulder gave a deep, throaty chuckle, making hot air rush past his left ear together with a suddenly cold voice promising violence. “I am disappointed in you, Officer Berns. I thought you would recognize me after having observed us for such a long time.”

 

Adrenaline shot through his veins, and suddenly, he was completely coherent. How had that they found out his true identity? For that matter: how had they found him at all?

 

“Demon. What do you want from me?”

 

“Oh, so you do recognize me. What I want from you? Information. Why have you been following us? Who sent you? How much do you know out about us?”

 

Berns laughed nervously, anxious to get away from those steel-like arms that were threatening to crush his chest cavity. Whispering so that nobody could hear, he decided to tell the truth.

 

“I am an United Earth Federation police officer. I was told to investigate some rumors about minors being abused in the BDSM-scene. It took me a year to gather enough information to know you were real, and two more years to finally find you - well, you rather found me. To be honest, I still don't know jack-shit about you, except that the Devil seems to have really bad nightmares, and that you are even younger than …”

 

He was cut off by a mouth ravishing his, and in his surprise, he didn't put up any resistance. All he saw was the unruly mop of brown hair that was one of the Demon's characteristics, being completely stunned by the vicious onslaught of teeth and tongue. The kiss lasted for a very long time, making him feel the burning need for air tear at his lungs. When the mouth finally let him go, he gulped in a few deep breaths of much-needed oxygen before he managed to stutter: “What the…”

 

The arms around his ribs tightened so much that his bones were creaking, quickly shutting him up with a groan of pain.

 

The Demon whispered dangerously close to his ear: “Be quiet, moron. We are being watched.” A little bit louder, he added: “What about it? Care to take me home? You look so lonely tonight…”

 

Catching on to the Demon's strategy, he still looked for a way out, not being comfortable so close to that man. “Erh… It would be nice to get to know you some more, but I have promised to meet my friend at 11 pm…”

 

The voice almost purred, scaring Berns deeply. “Then it is good that you have already missed him by more than an hour. Now, don't argue. I know what you need, and I think I could help you with that.”

 

“But… what about the Devil? Won't he miss you?”

 

“We are still independent people. He has chosen to make the Dragon his pet tonight, and he will be busy for quite a while. I don't care about spending the night alone, and I don't think you want to either, do you?”

 

As a warning, the arms tightened briefly around his chest, silencing all protests. Gulping, he shook his head a no, his brain desperately trying to find a way out of the dilemma. But before he could come to a solution, he was already standing next to the Demon who ironically was almost a head shorter than him. Still, he saw no chances to escape as the arm slung around his waist was incredibly strong.

 

Under the lewd cheers of the other guests, he was escorted out of the room.

 

The Owner even smirked at him. “Caught yourself a demon, eh? If I were you, I'd be careful. Could easily turn out that you are the one being caught. Enjoy it as long as you can. He doesn't like people who know more about him than he wants them to know. To be honest, I can understand him. I wouldn't like people who sneak around to gather information about me, either. Well, have fun you two…”

 

Berns felt a cold shiver tingle down his back. Did everybody here know what he was in reality? He was so stunned that he barely heard the smirk in the Demon's voice. “Oh, I believe we will. A lot of fun…”

 

Then, he found himself being led out of the club. The Demon hailed a cab, and then they were on their way to the apartment Berns had rented a couple of weeks ago. How in the world did the Demon know where he lived?

 

“So, what do you plan on doing with me?”

 

Almost cringing, he heard his voice waver from fear, which made the Demon smirk. “Well, I'd say I've made my offer clear enough. Screw first, and if you are a good boy, we'll go out for a nice, long walk afterwards.”

 

Berns was now seriously worried. The `long walk' sounded not like something that would be enjoyable for him, more like a threat. Did the Demon plan on killing him? What kind of mess had he gotten himself into this time…

 

The Demon crawled closer until he was almost seated on Berns' lap, and they looked into each others eyes. Berns shivered at the icy, blue stare that certainly fit to the hardened man for whom pain was nothing. But the really frightening aspect consisted of the smoldering heat and the simmering wickedness hidden behind that coldness. This must have been the part that made the Demon actually enjoy being hurt, and it was the force that propelled the sensual hunter to look for new prey.

 

And Berns was prey.

 

He didn't have any illusions to that aspect of his situation. The only question was what other aspects his situation contained. Death?

 

A deep, unbridled fear rose in his throat, threatening to choke him with its intensity, but he could not tear his eyes away from the smirking stare of the Demon.

 

Suddenly, the Demon stiffened as he threw a closer look out of the rear window. Frowning softly, he rapped a few times against the window separating the guest cabin from the cabdriver.

 

Damn, he had to be in deep shit because that clearly was some kind of code - and the cab driver acted on it. Berns anxiously felt the cab take several turns, going left and right until he had no clue anymore as to where they were anymore.

 

Then, the cab driver stopped in a dark alley-way that was nowhere remotely close to Berns' apartment. The Demon quickly opened the door, getting out and dragging Berns with him. The cab driver also got out, and now, Berns knew that he was in deep shit. The driver was holding a gun trained to his head, not saying a word. Meanwhile, the Demon opened the door of the passenger seat and picked up a small duffle. Quickly, he changed with absolutely no sense of modesty, peeling off the glossy pair of skin-tight leather pants to reveal lots of very much naked skin.

 

Berns swallowed at the sight of strong, tanned flesh that was marred by so many scars that he couldn't even begin to count. What kind of hell must the Demon have suffered through to look like that? No wonder that he didn't mind pain anymore.

 

Slipping on a pair of loose-fitting black sweatpants and a soft, black shirt, the Demon was now dressed very similarly to the cab driver who was no cab driver. The alleyway was not a good omen, not at all. It was dark, deserted, void of all life. An ideal place to kill somebody.

 

And that exactly seemed to be their intent. The Demon strode up to him, and before he could react, a hand shot out towards his neck, hitting some spot that made everything in front of his eyes vanish. He barely felt somebody catch him, and then unconsciousness claimed him.

 

 

~oooOoooOoooxxxxxxxxxxxxoooOoooOooo~

 

A/N:

Whew, that was the hardest part to write. I hope that Wufei's part is believable - and enjoyable. Any comments / suggestions are always welcome.

 

Sakiku