Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Spiritual Heart ❯ Chapter 1

His soft, white hair was drenched in sweat, his entire body trembling and shaking in not only exhaustion, but fear as well. His face was buried in the softness of the pillow before him and he struggled to raise his head high enough to even breathe. The weight present on his back made moving at all quite difficult and he finally resorted to pushing the pillow off of the bed with his head completely so that he could breathe properly. Or as properly as he could as his breath came in short, forced gasps in between muffled sobs of terror. His hands were bound behind his back, causing a painful strain in his upper and lower arms. The rope wrapped around his wrists was unmercifully tight and his hands had turned completely numb without the constant flow of blood into them. He gave a small cry just as he felt the warmth flow down his trembling legs and his entire body suddenly went limp. He laid still, continuing to gasp for a full breath of air as a steady line of tears fell down his face onto the white sheets under him. He was finally free of his Yami's hard grasp on his hips and of his violent sexual tendencies… For a while anyway. Bakura was never sure of when the Spirit of the Millennium Ring had had enough.

"Stop your whimpering, boy," came a gruff snarl from behind him.

Bakura held his breath and bit his bottom lip. He had no intention of angering his Yami tonight. His body was still throbbing from the beating he had received the night before when he had accidentally raised his voice a little. He struggled against his impulses to bury his face in the mattress and cry, but he knew that doing so would just annoy his Yami even more. He wanted to get up, clean himself up and clothe himself, but he could hardly move. His arms were still bound behind him and his fragile opening ached mercilessly. His Yami had never been gentle with him, even though his small, frail body could barely take the punishment he was dealt each and every day.

He heard a noise behind him and felt the pressure on his back be lifted off of him. Bakura strained his neck around to see what exactly it was that his Yami was doing, only to have a portion of his white locks seized in a tight grasp. Bakura whined as his body was rolled over so that he was lying on his back, the rough ropes digging into the grooves of his spine. He had to take a sharp breath in order to sustain his lungs and it came out as a harsh sob. He felt a painful sting on his face after his Yami slapped him quite suddenly.

"I said shut up!" he snarled, lifting Bakura's head off of the bed by his hair. It took all the boy was worth to keep himself from crying out in pain as several strands were ripped from their roots. He was not able to stop the hot tears from spilling down his cheeks, however, and this displeased his Yami as well. Bakura was subjected to two more slaps across the face before the Spirit of the Millennium Ring pushed the boy's head back down onto the mattress. Bakura almost groaned a protest as the weight of his Yami moved from his hips to his chest, pinning him down into the ropes behind him even more.

"Suck me," his Yami instructed flatly. Bakura opened his mouth obediently, allowing his Yami to slide his erect shaft into his oral cavity. The familiar taste of his Yami touched Bakura's tongue as he began licking the protruding head, producing a satisfied grunt from the Spirit perched on top of him. Bakura's face began flushing a bright red again, returning to the shade of color he had become accustomed to when his Yami sought him out in this way. He moved his lips over his Yami's growing erection, flinching when the Spirit thrust himself into his vessel deeper. Bakura could hear his Yami breathing heavily, moving his body in time with Bakura's lips against his thick shaft, his face flushed red almost as much as Bakura's own. As the Spirit's breathing quickened, he moved himself deeper and deeper into Bakura's throat, producing whines of protest from the boy that went completely unnoticed as his Yami climaxed to his orgasm. Bakura felt the warm seed flowing, engulfing his throat and his lungs. He suppressed his coughing until his Yami removed himself from the depths of his oral cavity, then turned his head to the side and coughed heartily, gasping for air between episodes.

Once the coughing spell seemed to cease, the Spirit of the Millennium Ring reached behind Bakura's head and grabbed a handful of his hair again, forcing the boy to sit up. "Had enough?" he inquired in a growling tone that sent chills down Bakura's spine. The boy nodded enthusiastically, flinching at the pain he felt as more of his hair was ripped from his head. His Yami rolled him back over onto his stomach and removed the ropes from his wrists, much to Bakura's relief. His arms dropped limply to his sides as his Yami took one last look at his frail figure and faded away into the darkness of the room.

Bakura coughed lightly, his head turned to the side and tears flowing down his face. His entire body shook with the force of his delirious sobs as he attempted to recollect himself after yet another sexual attack on him by his Yami. He could not see any reason why this disturbed him so. After all, it happened almost every night, especially on Friday night. Why he could only guess, but his Yami always seemed particularly horny then and Bakura felt the entire brunt on these nights. Perhaps it was better that way. Then Bakura could sleep in on Saturday mornings and not have to worry about being late to school.

The white-haired boy slowly sat up on his bed, minding the stinging in his backend, the rawness of his throat, and the rubber feeling in his arms. His entire body ached, and he wondered just how he was going to manage to drag himself to the bathroom across the hall. Painfully slowly, he worked on up to his feet on the cold hardwood floor of his bedroom, feeling blindly for his clothing scattered across the room. He eventually found every article, and proceeded toward the door on the far side of the room, which he opened slowly, peering into the darkness of the hallway. Hearing and seeing nothing, he forced himself across the carpet into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub, reaching into a drawer for a washcloth. He wetted it in the sink and proceeded to wipe himself down with it, cleansing himself of both his Yami's and his own seed, grimacing at the amount that had been able to spill on him. His Yami's orgasms were always outstanding, always bringing out the very best of Bakura himself, though he took no comfort in the fact. He was raped and violated, molested, harassed…

Fresh tears began to fall from his red-stained eyes as he reflected on the night… The night before… The night before that… The night before… But the worst was over for now. Tomorrow was Saturday, and he could relax at the notion that his Yami would go easy on him for about a week now. He finished cleaning himself and reached over to retrieve his wrinkled clothes from the counter, flinching in pain at the strain it put on his arm. He was able to drag the clothing over to him and dropped it on the floor, having no strength to hold it all for long. He picked up the shirt and with great effort, was able to put it over his head, but found that it was simply too painful to get his arms through the short sleeves. He removed the shirt from his neck, dropping it to the floor. It would not hurt to go to bed shirtless…

He picked up his boxers next, inserting one pain-ridden leg and then the other. He slowly stood and was barely able to pull them up, but eventually managed it. Although it was rather cold in the house, Bakura decided to skip putting on his pants. It would only ensure more pain. He gathered up his discarded clothing and washcloth and shuffled slowly back into his room. He dropped the laundry on the floor and walked over to his bed, examining the mess his Yami had made of his sheets. He pulled them from the mattress and discarded them to the floor, reaching down to gather his pillow and blanket that had been thrown off of him earlier in the proceedings. With a painful sigh, Bakura pulled the blanket up to his chin and rolled onto his side, but did not go to sleep.