Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Lion and the Lamb ❯ Lion and the Lamb Chapter 3: Lament of the Lion ( Chapter 3 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: DeityofDeath 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Drama / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 02.28.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 229 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Drama / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 02.28.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 229 | Status: Completed
Title: Lion and the LambAuthor: DeityOfDeathArchive: Yes please......Pairings: 3x4. 4x3Category: Drama, romanceRating: NC-17/RSpoilers: Maybe.Warnings: Yaoi, Lemon, RapeDisclaimers: I never have nor will I ever own Gundam Wing or its chars. They are property of Bandai and a few other major companies.
TO ANY READERS ON FANFICTION.NET!
Anyone who reads my fanfiction at fanfiction.net..... I will no longer be updating there due to the strict rules and regulations they must enforce. If you wish to read/continue any stories I write please come to these three sites:
http://www.adultfanfiction.net/aff/authors.php?no=6969
http: //www.foreverfandom.net/viewuser.php?uid=173
http://breakfic.labores-so lis.com/viewuser.php?uid=12
Lion and the Lamb Chapter 3: Lament of the Lion
My head hurts. Whose voices do I hear? Why can't I see? There's something tied around my forehead. I'm hanging by my wrists. My arms are sore; I've been hanging here for a while. What do my captors want? Is this their way of interrogating me? I feel someone's hands playing along my naked thighs. Whose hands? Their callused. A person who does either hard labor or uses their hands in other ways like firing guns constantly. I feel something not familiar to me moving along my skin. It trails from my toes to my abdomen. It stops there leaving a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. I feel it leave my body and then a hushed whistling sound fills the room for half a second and then the sound a slap which was followed by my scream of surprise and pain.
A whip! It was a leather whip. I had no time to think after that first stinging hit because a flurry of blows continued after that first. I writhed and strained back to escape what I could not. I gritted my teeth, refusing to let my cries of pain escape. I had been through worse but somehow this had topped them all. It topped the killing and seeing those around me being killed. Why? Why was this worse, more frightening? In the back of my head I knew why. I had never been left naked at those times. Being naked around others is; I think, one of the most vulnerable moments in anyone's lifetime. And it wasn't just the fact the things that most people believed should be hidden were out in the open. It was the fact that when you were naked and vulnerable, horrible things could happen. Why were the butterflies dropping in my stomach?
I felt the pain bringing blows end and just the throbbing soreness remained. A slight burning traveling the areas where the whip had hit. I struggled to draw breath, praying that it would end. I prayed over and over that Quatre had made it to safety. I wanted nothing more than for him to far away from this place. I couldn't imagine him having to go through this. I must have been too lost in thought to notice the movement of someone near me. I felt hands roaming along my face and then there was a sudden blinding light and shadows of people around me as the blindfold was lifted away from my face. I blinked, clearing salty sweat and errant tears out of my eyes. I looked forward and saw the face of the man from last night. He grinned at me holding the whip between his hands, swiping it through his fingers. He seemed to be enjoying the show.
If I made it out of here alive, he was a dead man.
He leaned in rubbing filthy hands along my body enjoying the occasional cringe and tremble that my body impulsively made. I was scared. Did I have a reason to be? Would things go beyond physical pain? Most likely. Did I want them to? No! I had hope beyond that Quatre and I could be together. Would I live through this so that I could tell him? Could I tell him? At the moment I'd rather be looking into those aqua depths over flowing with warmth and light instead of these haunting and cruel blue eyes. Eyes like deep frozen water. He smiled leaning over me letting his fingers play along all the bleeding welts and grinning the whole time. He proved himself even more disgusting by licking his blood coated fingers, sucking on his fingers like he had just stuck them in some creamy frosting. He grinning and walked away from me, setting his whip atop a table which seemed covered in many odd contraptions that one could tell were made for causing pain. Many types of whips, a few with knots at the ends and in the middle and one evil looking whip with sharp daggers or flechets on the end. Where did he go shopping? Painful objects.com? That sounded more like Duo than me. I have to say that his penchant for humor when stressed had rubbed off on me. I wished his way of hiding his pain had as well.
I saw Diez lean over his table smiling joyously. He skipped the whips and moved straight on to tiny little razors. These razors were different from any others I had seen. They were like tiny knives. They were what most called flechetes. He picked up one or two and then returned to face me. He held one in plain sight while he slid the other across my chest very slowly. There was only a sharp pulling sensation and then the faint tickling of the blood as it fell in rivulets along the cut. He stopped when he reached my stomach and lifted the flechet. He then held that blood coated flechet and slid the second one out of my sight and along the opposite side of my chest. He lifted it and held it across from the first with a joyous smile covering his features. He seemed to be lost in the pleasure of it all. I wish I had the same ability. He then lowered them to thighs and set a hand on each thigh and slowly slid the blades down my legs. He wanted me to moan or cry out in pain and when I didn't it only brought more excitement for him. He knew that I would stay silent and endure the worst. I was a sadist’s wet dream.
He removed them and grinned. I watched as he threw them to the floor and then began to unbutton his trousers. I heard a zipper being lowered and refused to look down at his lower half of his body. Why couldn't he just kill me like others would? Why had I ended up falling into the lap of some sadist shota asshole? Luck or perhaps something more just wasn't on my side this night.
When his hands grasped my waist I looked down automatically in fear. My body shook slightly and I felt my heartbeat double. He grinned and grabbed me harshly with a yank. I choked out a yell and bit my lip. I would not give him his pleasure. I would not. I would hold on. He began to tug and pull harshly and squeeze painfully. He then surprised me by lowering himself onto his knees in front of me. I saw him run his hands up and down my legs, getting them slick in a trickle of cold sweat and blood. He then returned those hands to my sore member and began to pull and tug with an honest fervor. Each tug trying to arouse me but only succeeding in making me shrink more. When he had me coated with my own blood and sweat he licked his lips smiling and then brought his mouth onto my flaccid member. He sucked harshly and quickly and against my will I felt myself grow rigid. My body was betraying me. What hell was this? Why was I reacting to his services in the same way I reacted to Quatre's beauty?
He continued to suck and tug at my legs while he did so. He hands snaking their way around my body until they cupped the tightly squeezed globes of my bottom. He forced his hands through my squeezed muscles and his dry fingers found their target, aptly prying their way in through tensed muscle. I moaned in pain and yelled out despite myself. I felt callused fingers penetrate me and one or two became three or even four. I was yelling now. No, more like screaming or mewling in pain. A piteous sound and I hated every pathetic moment of it. I hated it even more when against my will I exploded in his mouth, somewhere lost between pain and pleasure, heaven and hell. He then grinned and stood up wiping his mouth grinning like the cat that had eaten the canary. He walked around me and lifted my lower body in his arms. I felt him lower my body quickly and something large tearing through that minutely loosened hole. I screamed then. Loud, tear filled and heavy with regret.
Regret for what? My virginity? What I couldn't enjoy? What I had loss? What I had loss again? My innocence? I felt him moving me up and down while he pounded into me horribly deep. I screamed, screamed and cried. Lost in the pain. Lost in the agony. I felt him quicken his pace, tearing the protests and screams from my throat quicker than I could possibly scream.
He quivered and shook and I felt him grow larger inside me before he vibrated inside of me as well and then I felt something warm fill me. Something that stung wounds that shouldn't have been there. I felt him lift me up and then I felt him lower me twice more upon a slick and shrinking phallus and felt him shudder once more as he came again. He then left me sitting upon the very thing that had caused the pain within me. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity. When it seemed that I had finally been blessed with numbness he lifted me again and this time when he fell out of me he did not reenter me. He let my body fall and sag painfully against my bonds. My wrists throbbed as well as other places and I watched as he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and wipe himself off. He left me there, hanging and oozing blood and another warm liquid leaking from that deep wound inside me.
"Your were a good lay. I'll leave you there for now. I am going to clean up, I shall return for another round in the morning."
He left slamming the door shut. I hung there cursing my existence and wondering if something this broken could ever be fixed.
To Be Continued.........
Kat: Sorry, Minna. That was a tough scene to write. I hope you like and even though it seems dark and depressing now, happier and sweeter moments are coming soon.
Trowa: THEY DAMN WELL BETTER!
TO ANY READERS ON FANFICTION.NET!
Anyone who reads my fanfiction at fanfiction.net..... I will no longer be updating there due to the strict rules and regulations they must enforce. If you wish to read/continue any stories I write please come to these three sites:
http://www.adultfanfiction.net/aff/authors.php?no=6969
http: //www.foreverfandom.net/viewuser.php?uid=173
http://breakfic.labores-so lis.com/viewuser.php?uid=12
Lion and the Lamb Chapter 3: Lament of the Lion
My head hurts. Whose voices do I hear? Why can't I see? There's something tied around my forehead. I'm hanging by my wrists. My arms are sore; I've been hanging here for a while. What do my captors want? Is this their way of interrogating me? I feel someone's hands playing along my naked thighs. Whose hands? Their callused. A person who does either hard labor or uses their hands in other ways like firing guns constantly. I feel something not familiar to me moving along my skin. It trails from my toes to my abdomen. It stops there leaving a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. I feel it leave my body and then a hushed whistling sound fills the room for half a second and then the sound a slap which was followed by my scream of surprise and pain.
A whip! It was a leather whip. I had no time to think after that first stinging hit because a flurry of blows continued after that first. I writhed and strained back to escape what I could not. I gritted my teeth, refusing to let my cries of pain escape. I had been through worse but somehow this had topped them all. It topped the killing and seeing those around me being killed. Why? Why was this worse, more frightening? In the back of my head I knew why. I had never been left naked at those times. Being naked around others is; I think, one of the most vulnerable moments in anyone's lifetime. And it wasn't just the fact the things that most people believed should be hidden were out in the open. It was the fact that when you were naked and vulnerable, horrible things could happen. Why were the butterflies dropping in my stomach?
I felt the pain bringing blows end and just the throbbing soreness remained. A slight burning traveling the areas where the whip had hit. I struggled to draw breath, praying that it would end. I prayed over and over that Quatre had made it to safety. I wanted nothing more than for him to far away from this place. I couldn't imagine him having to go through this. I must have been too lost in thought to notice the movement of someone near me. I felt hands roaming along my face and then there was a sudden blinding light and shadows of people around me as the blindfold was lifted away from my face. I blinked, clearing salty sweat and errant tears out of my eyes. I looked forward and saw the face of the man from last night. He grinned at me holding the whip between his hands, swiping it through his fingers. He seemed to be enjoying the show.
If I made it out of here alive, he was a dead man.
He leaned in rubbing filthy hands along my body enjoying the occasional cringe and tremble that my body impulsively made. I was scared. Did I have a reason to be? Would things go beyond physical pain? Most likely. Did I want them to? No! I had hope beyond that Quatre and I could be together. Would I live through this so that I could tell him? Could I tell him? At the moment I'd rather be looking into those aqua depths over flowing with warmth and light instead of these haunting and cruel blue eyes. Eyes like deep frozen water. He smiled leaning over me letting his fingers play along all the bleeding welts and grinning the whole time. He proved himself even more disgusting by licking his blood coated fingers, sucking on his fingers like he had just stuck them in some creamy frosting. He grinning and walked away from me, setting his whip atop a table which seemed covered in many odd contraptions that one could tell were made for causing pain. Many types of whips, a few with knots at the ends and in the middle and one evil looking whip with sharp daggers or flechets on the end. Where did he go shopping? Painful objects.com? That sounded more like Duo than me. I have to say that his penchant for humor when stressed had rubbed off on me. I wished his way of hiding his pain had as well.
I saw Diez lean over his table smiling joyously. He skipped the whips and moved straight on to tiny little razors. These razors were different from any others I had seen. They were like tiny knives. They were what most called flechetes. He picked up one or two and then returned to face me. He held one in plain sight while he slid the other across my chest very slowly. There was only a sharp pulling sensation and then the faint tickling of the blood as it fell in rivulets along the cut. He stopped when he reached my stomach and lifted the flechet. He then held that blood coated flechet and slid the second one out of my sight and along the opposite side of my chest. He lifted it and held it across from the first with a joyous smile covering his features. He seemed to be lost in the pleasure of it all. I wish I had the same ability. He then lowered them to thighs and set a hand on each thigh and slowly slid the blades down my legs. He wanted me to moan or cry out in pain and when I didn't it only brought more excitement for him. He knew that I would stay silent and endure the worst. I was a sadist’s wet dream.
He removed them and grinned. I watched as he threw them to the floor and then began to unbutton his trousers. I heard a zipper being lowered and refused to look down at his lower half of his body. Why couldn't he just kill me like others would? Why had I ended up falling into the lap of some sadist shota asshole? Luck or perhaps something more just wasn't on my side this night.
When his hands grasped my waist I looked down automatically in fear. My body shook slightly and I felt my heartbeat double. He grinned and grabbed me harshly with a yank. I choked out a yell and bit my lip. I would not give him his pleasure. I would not. I would hold on. He began to tug and pull harshly and squeeze painfully. He then surprised me by lowering himself onto his knees in front of me. I saw him run his hands up and down my legs, getting them slick in a trickle of cold sweat and blood. He then returned those hands to my sore member and began to pull and tug with an honest fervor. Each tug trying to arouse me but only succeeding in making me shrink more. When he had me coated with my own blood and sweat he licked his lips smiling and then brought his mouth onto my flaccid member. He sucked harshly and quickly and against my will I felt myself grow rigid. My body was betraying me. What hell was this? Why was I reacting to his services in the same way I reacted to Quatre's beauty?
He continued to suck and tug at my legs while he did so. He hands snaking their way around my body until they cupped the tightly squeezed globes of my bottom. He forced his hands through my squeezed muscles and his dry fingers found their target, aptly prying their way in through tensed muscle. I moaned in pain and yelled out despite myself. I felt callused fingers penetrate me and one or two became three or even four. I was yelling now. No, more like screaming or mewling in pain. A piteous sound and I hated every pathetic moment of it. I hated it even more when against my will I exploded in his mouth, somewhere lost between pain and pleasure, heaven and hell. He then grinned and stood up wiping his mouth grinning like the cat that had eaten the canary. He walked around me and lifted my lower body in his arms. I felt him lower my body quickly and something large tearing through that minutely loosened hole. I screamed then. Loud, tear filled and heavy with regret.
Regret for what? My virginity? What I couldn't enjoy? What I had loss? What I had loss again? My innocence? I felt him moving me up and down while he pounded into me horribly deep. I screamed, screamed and cried. Lost in the pain. Lost in the agony. I felt him quicken his pace, tearing the protests and screams from my throat quicker than I could possibly scream.
He quivered and shook and I felt him grow larger inside me before he vibrated inside of me as well and then I felt something warm fill me. Something that stung wounds that shouldn't have been there. I felt him lift me up and then I felt him lower me twice more upon a slick and shrinking phallus and felt him shudder once more as he came again. He then left me sitting upon the very thing that had caused the pain within me. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity. When it seemed that I had finally been blessed with numbness he lifted me again and this time when he fell out of me he did not reenter me. He let my body fall and sag painfully against my bonds. My wrists throbbed as well as other places and I watched as he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and wipe himself off. He left me there, hanging and oozing blood and another warm liquid leaking from that deep wound inside me.
"Your were a good lay. I'll leave you there for now. I am going to clean up, I shall return for another round in the morning."
He left slamming the door shut. I hung there cursing my existence and wondering if something this broken could ever be fixed.
To Be Continued.........
Kat: Sorry, Minna. That was a tough scene to write. I hope you like and even though it seems dark and depressing now, happier and sweeter moments are coming soon.
Trowa: THEY DAMN WELL BETTER!