Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Yes Master ❯ Chapter 5

Part 5

I'd stayed in my room since my encounter with Crawford. It was quiet in the apartment; I could hear the sound of key's clattering as they were pressed, coming from Nagi's room. The sound had lulled me to sleep at least twice in my wait.

Surprisingly, I hadn't heard or seen Crawford since I'd left him hard and wanting on the floor in his room. He had sought no retribution for what I had done to him, which led me to believe he would be coming to my room. I don't think he truly understands what this will mean between us, and I'm not totally sure of my own feelings. I don't love him, I doubt I ever could. When I see him, there's hatred for how he treats me like an animal, how he locks me up and sedates me, and also thanks that I was given this chance to revenge god, to be free from the asylums that tried to change what I am. I suppose what Crawford had done hadn't been any worse than what the guards at the asylum had. I did have freedom, the chance to extract revenge, and although Crawford punished me, he never threatened to kill me or send me back.

I wonder what he sees when he looks at me. A madman bent on revenge with no brain? I know that tonight I've proven that theory wrong, my plan executed more punctually than any of his have truly been. I have this urge, this need to know what it means to him, what giving into me, the psychotic killer, blood tainting my hands means mentally to him. I have to know what he feels when he sees that his life and body are truly in my hands, bending at my will.

~~~~~

The time comes and goes, and as it gets closer to twelve I arrange myself on the bed so that when he enters, I am the first thing he sees. My shirt is off, I don't wish to spill any blood on it, and I wear leather pants, so that I will be able to wipe them clean. I know they will be tight, but its all for affect when he first looks at me, it makes me appear more his master, than a not so loyal colleague.

I'd taken a knife out of one of my more special cases for this night. It was something Crawford had given me as a Christmas present, though he knows I don't celebrate that putrid holiday. It was very special, never before used. Hand crafted with a mixture of metal and steel. I sharpen it every week, adoring the feel of the ivory handle, carved with extricate patterns and designs. I believe now that he'd brought it un-consciously, an outcry against his mind, trying to contain his desire, his want for me to cut him. Of course he brought everyone else presents, a first I think. It was the first holiday we had, all of us together without a mission. He'd brought Nagi games for his computer. Despite Nagi being Japanese he was still thrilled about it and the holiday cheer. I remember it clearly now.

Schu had gotten drunk on the fine whiskey Crawford had brought him after a somewhat traditional dinner, crackers and party hats included. After that I'd snuck out, finding some people leaving a late mass at church to massacre. I came home with bloodied hands; god had cried so much that day.

After sorting everything out, ties to hold Crawford down, a makeshift gag if he screamed to loud and my knife sharp as when it was first given to me, I lay down on the bed, staring up at the cracked tiles that lined the ceiling. A lamp next to me was on just besides the bed. It was a wall light, screwed in so I couldn't rip it out and kill myself with it, the switch to the side allowing me to brighten or dim it. I twirled the knife between my fingers, the motion almost soothing as I waited. I'd never been a patient man, and Crawford was sure taking his time. I moved the knife to my right hand and began to twirl, the blade moving and swirling, never cutting me as I did so, even when I took my gaze from it and directed it at the door. I knew what effect it would have on Crawford when he walked in and saw me with it, saw me moving and caressing it like a lover, like how he so thoroughly wished to be touched.

About ten minutes later, just when I was starting to grow impatient, starting to believe that Crawford had decided against it, I heard a soft sound at the door. I'd almost missed it, as if the knock hadn't meant to sound intruding. Of course it was though, Crawford has intruded on my life since day one, and especially making me so inclined to watch his every move. I waited, looking at the door and it opened just a little. Crawford peeked in, looking somewhat reluctant and uncertain on whether he wanted to enter the lions den. Everyone was scared of my room, and he was no different.

Smirking, I continued to twirl my knife, my other armed tucked underneath my head. I looked relaxed, as if I didn't care about what he would do but I secretly urged him inside, trying to deny that I wanted to do this as much as he wanted me to. His skin called to me, I wanted to see and taste his sweet blood, to see my knife carve into his flesh and make a pattern, forever marking him as mine. Crawford's eyes widened a little, and he cautiously slipped into the room.

"Farferello?" He shut the door softly behind him, staring over at me. His voice was soft, almost cracking like it was before. He was bathed in shadows as he nervously waited just inside of the room, hovering at the door as if he would bolt. The lamplight shone in his eyes, though his face was steeped in shadow, he looked ravishing, vulnerable. Something I craved, wanting to touch, to hold his pride in my hands with the ability to crush and also nurture. I propped myself up on one elbow, my eye raking over him. He seemed a little startled by my movement and the glow in his eyes made him look more like a deer caught in headlights, to scared to flee.

"Come here…" I quit twirling my knife, and beckoned to him with it. I watched him hesitate for a moment before he moved closer, finally coming to stand in front of me, looking down at me with fearful eyes. I traced the knife over his shirt and he caught a whimper between his lips, digging pearly white teeth in so hard that I thought he might draw blood. As I stood, slowly taking the knife from his body, he backed away slightly, waiting for what I would order next.

"Do you agree to my conditions Crawford?" My voice was low, next to his ear, as I moved behind him. Although I was shorter, I was still able to reach him there, viscously nipping his ear before moving away again, delighting in his pained whimper.

"I… it's not that easy". His voice was low, the barest whimper. His answer was not what I wanted and he knew he'd said wrong when I spun him around to grip him by the throat, not squeezing though, but bringing him closer.

"Isn't it? You want my touch, you want my knife breaking open your skin, the pleasure and pain that comes with it, wanting me doing it. Don't you?"

I stared into his eyes and he had trouble keeping his own locked with mine, the single orb glowering brightly.

"Yes… yes but…"

I cut him off, pressing the tip of my blade against his chest. I smiled coolly, his eyes raking over my look; it must have been terrifying to him.

"If you can't take the rules get out of my room. You are mine in here. Mine to play with, mine to fuck and treat how I like. You are my slave, my servant and anything else I fucking want you to be. For that? For that, I will give you everything you desire, everything you've been denying you need and have wanted for so long".

He watched me speak, my voice alluring and somehow reassuring. He still looked ready to bolt, I knew it would be hard for him. I didn't want to break him, never that, I liked his spunkiness, but I wanted his obedience. I was fine to change roles out of this room though.

"Decide now. In here you are mine, out there I am your dog, your pet as always, but here you are mine. And this…"

I grabbed him by the crotch, and by the buttocks, my knife resting in my hand, not scratching him. I wanted him mine and mine only. He wasn't anyone's to share unless I said so, I wanted to own his body, if at least whilst we played.

"Your body is mine Crawford. If I see you with anyone else once we start this without my permission, its over. Don't cross me because I will know". I let him go, leaving him to pant slightly. I'd felt his cock swell a little as I'd grabbed him, it appeared he liked it rough.

Turning my back on him I waited, waited for the words I wanted to hear. We stood for a moment before I heard his words, and I felt myself harden at them.

"I belong to you… master".

I know it took a lot for him to say those words, especially to call me master, his will is to strong to do that willingly but I know he wants this.

I wanted to show him that there is more to always being in control, that to give in, to let someone take the reins if just for a while can be more than he ever imagined.

When I turned around, he took in my smirk, full and conniving. One used to worry and to fear, and yet Crawford didn't appear to be scared, he'd resigned to his fate.

"Strip". I ordered, and I waited for what he would do.