Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ I Hate IT. I Crave It. ❯ I Hate It. I Crave It. ( Chapter 1 )

I Hate It. I Crave It.

hato_chiisai

*******MAJOR YAOI WARNING HERE!!! THIS FIC IS INCREDIBLY DISTURBING. IF YOU DON'T LIKE YAOI, BONDAGE, MASTURBATION, ETC.. THEN STAY AWAY AND DON'T READ. I DON'T WANT TO GET DELETED, SO IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS KIND OF STUFF, THEN DO EVERYONE A FAVOR AND SPARE US THE GREIF, BY NOT READING!!!********

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Got it? NOTHING! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahah.. Yeah. Okay. That's enough.

******YAOIYAOIYAOIYAOIYAOIYAOIYAOIYAOIYAOIYAOIYAOIYAOI**** **** *****You have been warned. Don't like it, turn back now. Go. Please.*******

**Ryou's POV**

I hate it. But I crave it. I need it, I can't live without it, and the worst thing of all, is that he knew. It all started about a year ago. The usual beatings had been happening for nearly four years before the first time he did it to me. You have to understand, I love him nonetheless. He's my darker half, the missing part of my soul. You know how no matter how happy and fortunate you are, there is still an empty place in you heart? Well, I had it too. Until he came.

He looked a lot like me, same pale skin, long white hair, jagged, yet incredibly soft. But he was taller, and stronger than I ever could be. But I loved him. I loved him when he yelled at me. I loved him when he beat me. And I loved him, even when he held me down, and raped me, stealing my innocence. The one thing that was my own to give. And he took it. And I loved it. Or I wanted too. All I ever wanted, all I still want, is for him to love me back. But he didn't. He knew I loved him, and he used it against me. He tricked me. I let him get too close, and had bared myself to him, he took advantage of me in the worst possible way.

That started it all. H raped me, weekly, at first, then, more and more, until it was a daily thing. And I stopped fighting him. I stopped for two reasons; one, I couldn't have stopped him even if I had tried. And two, I didn't want to stop him. The feeling of his body pressed against mine, the friction between us, the feeling of him inside of me, moving harshly, drawing blood...

I became dependent on his touch. I craved it. And he knew. He learned he could get me to do almost anything for him, as long as I could be in his intoxicating presence, feeling his skin on mine. That was when things changed. That was when I became his willing slave. His personal, willing sex slave. He loved to see me suffer, so he made it as degrading as possible. I hated it, but at the same time, I couldn't refuse him. I didn't want too. That is how I got to where I am now. Even now, when he's gone, I follow the procedure I had grown used to.

I live in a small apartment. Dad says it's trashy, but I had to get out of the house. If Dad was around, he made himself scarce. Dad doesn't know about him. I couldn't stand it. I love my father. But I needed my darkness. I needed Bakura. So I left home. I got a cheap apartment. A living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, a bedroom. That was all I needed. And I was all he needed.

I come home from school, and close and lock the front door. All the windows are covered, the whole apartment is dark, the way Bakura-sama likes it. I drop my bag on the floor, and take off the blue jacket of my school uniform. Around my throat, hidden by the high collar of the jacket, is a metal studded band of leather, fastened snugly, not loose, but not tight enough to make me uncomfortable. The others, of course, thought I was just copying Yugi, and Yami, when they saw it. They never guessed the real reason why I wore it.

I strip completely, until I stood naked, wearing only the collar, and the Millennium Ring. Sometimes he would watch me undress myself, sometimes not. It was one of his rules; I was not aloud to wear clothes around the house unless told. He liked to look at me, touch me, feel me, make me want more, and then laugh at my pitiful state. But he would always give me more. Always.

When he appeared to me, he would have the chain. It clipped to the collar around my neck, and he would drag me everywhere he went, or just chain me to the coffee table or something, while he wandered off to do whatever he felt like doing at the time. But I didn't care, as long as he touched me. As long as he was near, I was fine. I hated it when he left, though. I did everything for him. I cooked, and cleaned, and did anything else he would ask. He often asked for a full-body massage.

I loved giving him full body massages. His skin was smooth and warm, his muscles well toned. His body was beautiful. I knew how to touch him. He would purr under my hands, and that pleased me to no end. Eventually, I learned to touch him in ways that turned him on. And then, he would give me what I wanted. What I hate. What I crave.

He never bothered with preparation. He liked to see me in pain. And I liked to be in pain, if he was the one inflicting it upon me. He would use the knife, but it didn't like that. It was cold, and hard. It wasn't him. He would pound into my body without a care, drowning in my pain- filled cries and pleasured moans. He liked to torture me for hours on end, pleasuring me, bringing me so close to the edge, and stopping me before I reached my climax. It would drive me mad, and then, he'd sit and smile, listening to my desperate pleas for blessed release.

He especially liked to use handcuffs of me. Chains, whips, gags, he loved it all. And I hate it. But I crave it. I need it. And now, I don't get it. Bakura-sama is gone now, thanks to that bastard, YamiYugi. You see, he found out. I'll never forget how it happened.

I came home, and Bakura-sama was sitting on the sofa with Yami Malik, or Marik, as we call him. They had been talking, but stopped, when I came in. They just sat, and stared at me. And I stared back. Bakura-sama had been so careful, to keep this a secret for so long. I was afraid. I was afraid to let Marik know, but I was afraid not to do as I usually do, so I waited. I waited for some sign, any sign, from Bakura-sama. He glared at me, after a while, then cleared his throat. He told me to stop standing there like an idiot, and to get on with it already. I dropped my bag, and obeyed.

I remember the look on Marik's face, when I stripped completely. Bakura simply smirked, and sauntered over, a smug look on his face, clipping the chain to my collar, as always. He gave the chain a vicious jerk, which was not uncommon, and I followed Bakura over to the sofa. He sat down next to Marik again, and I knelt on the floor, at his feet. Marik looked like he had blown a fuse in his brain, or something. He had never guessed that any of this was going on.

He started asking Bakura questions about it all, which he answered smugly. I just sat, silently, staring at the floor. Bakura was so near, yet so far. I desperately needed his touch, but to touch him without permission... Well, needless to say, that would be bad. So I had to restrain myself. After a while. He told me to make dinner. I obeyed with the usual 'Hai, Bakura-sama,' and went off to do that. Marik still looked shocked. I made them dinner, I don't remember what, and knelt by Bakura- sama's side while they ate, leaping to do his every command. Marik was starting to look more amused by this point.

I was going mad. And he knew it. He always knew. After three hours of torture, he finally gave me what I wanted. His hands on my chest, his lips on my own, I was in heaven. When he finally gave the command, I jumped to obey, going onto my hands and knees before him. Hah. The look on Marik's face at that was priceless. But I never expected what happened next. Bakura-sama didn't touch me. He just smiled to Marik, and gestured to me, inviting his fellow yami, to do what he wanted with me. That was the first time in a long time, that I was afraid. Marik accepted the invitation, stripping off his own clothes, and entering me harshly. A pain cry escaped my lips. I tilted my head to the floor, and closed my eyes, hating the feeling of another man taking me.

Then, I felt him. His hands on my face, lifting it up. I opened my eyes, to find his raging erection in front of me. He never had to ask, I just took him into my mouth, focusing on his loud groans, as opposed to Marik's. Bakura-sama tasted good. He always had. I sucked on him, licking and nipping gently, before taking him into my throat, swallowing around him. Marik found his release, and then, so did Bakura-sama. He shoved me to the floor, and wandered off with Marik, talking as if the last ten minutes hadn't even happened. Bakura-sama didn't give me permission to move, so I simply curled up on the floor.

I had drifted off to sleep, and when I awoke, Marik was gone, and Bakura- sama was staring at me. He simply jabbed a finger at the coffee table, and I moved. I knew exactly what he wanted. I moved to the foot of the table, and sat on me knees before it. He roughly shoved me over, so my chest and face were lying on the table. He jerked the chain tight, and hooked it on a nail he had put into the underside of the table. He had spent hours working on the damn table. If you looked at it, it seemed normal enough. But looking at the underside told you different. There were leather straps, on either side, in the middle, and he used these to tie my hands. HE gagged me, then used two of his belts, strapping my thighs to the legs of the table, effectively spreading my own legs. I knew from experience, that this was his favorite way to have me. And he had me that night, countless times. He'd take what he wanted from me, then he would leave me like that, and go off to do something, only to come back for more later. I loved it. I hate it. I crave it.

A few days later, things changed. Malik had found out about us from Marik, who accidentally let it slip from his mind, and Malik freaked. He went straight to Yami Yugi. Yami confronted me at school. I denied it all, of course, and he simply shrugged, and left. I was stupid to think that that was the end of it. I went home that afternoon, and things continued as always. Strip down, please Bakura-sama, make dinner, please Bakura-sama, clean the apartment, oh, and did I mention please Bakura-sama? We were in the middle of the favorite "fuck-Ryou-strapped-to-the-coffee-table" routine again, when there was a knock at the door. Bakura-sama answered it, posing as me. He didn't fool Yami Yugi. My friends saw me. All of them. Lying on the coffee table bound and gagged, blood on my thighs, and desperate for more. Yami Yugi took one look at me, before he lost it. He lost his temper, I lost my darkness. Yami Yugi sent him to the Shadow Realm.

That was two weeks ago. I'm going mad. I know I am. I have become dependent on Bakura-sama's touches. I'm going crazy without them. I still come home, and strip. Then, I sit in the dark, on the floor near the sofa, and coffee table. I sit there, and hold the Ring to my chest, my chain by my side, hanging from the thick leather collar. I need Bakura-sama. I can feel him again. He's still in the Shadow Realm, but he's fighting to get back. Back to me. But he's weak. I feed him my own strength, the only way I know how too. I sit in the middle of the kitchen, on the cold tile, with a knife in one hand, and one of the dozens of candles in my home in the other. The Ring is on the floor before me, a lighter next to me. I spread my legs, and gasp, as I slide the candle into my entrance, pushing it as deep as it will go.

I bite my lip, as I hold my arms out over the Millennium Ring. Slowly, I bring the blade of the knife to the tender flesh of the inside of my arm, and I slice into it, over the not yet healed scars that I put there previously. I set the knife aside, and the blood drips onto the Ring, with begins to glow faintly. Reaching behind me, I grasp the candle, and move it in and out of my body, moaning at the feeling. With my other hand, I reach down, curling my fingers around my length, stroking myself firmly. As I do this, all I can think of, is him. I go faster, until I reach the edge, and release violently, spilling my seed onto the Ring, to mingle with the blood.

The energy I put into the fluids from my body are absorbed by the Ring. I can feel Bakura-sama absorbing the energy that I put into the Ring. He feeds on it, hungrily, and I vaguely get a feeling, of a promise, that I will be rewarded for my efforts to bring him back to this world. I slump lifelessly next to the Ring, and pull the candle from my body. I hold it above the Ring, and light it with the lighter. I hold it, and stare into the flame, wincing as the hot wax drips onto my hand.

I roll over onto my back, and put the Ring around my neck again, still covered in my blood and semen. I hold the candle over my chest, feeling the hot wax on my skin. I close my eyes, and think of him. I can feel him getting closer to me. It's only a matter of time now. No matter what Yami does, he is still linked to the Ring and to me. As long as we're both together, Bakura-sama will return. He must return. I think of his presence. I think of his touch. I want it. I need it. I hate it. I crave it.

---End---

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Oh, yeah. My mother ever sees this, and I'll be in therapy quicker than you can say 'yaoi' I can't believe I wrote this myself! Kinda twisted... Anyway, review, and let me know what you think. This was a one shot fic, so there will be no sequel. Just letting you know. This fic was inspired by a picture I saw on the Internet. I don't know what site (it was in Japanese) but it was basically Bakura in black and red leather, sitting in an armchair, licking a blood covered knife. He was holding a chain in one hand, that was attacked to a collar on Ryou's neck. Ryou was blindfolded and nude, sitting on his knees at Bakura's feet, bound with leather straps. Kinda shocking when you first see it, but I thought it was kinda cool in my own twisted sadistic way.