Bliss of Another Kind

BY : Eumenides
Category: Descendents of Darkness/Yami No Matsuei > General
Dragon prints: 1353
Disclaimer: I do not own Descendants of Darkness (Yami no Matsuei), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: Bliss of Another Kind
Fandom: Yami no Matsuei (Descendents of Darkness)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: No spoilers. Takes place pre-series. Muraki experiences his first kill. Warnings for rape, death, and disturbing imagery.

It was a cool night in autumn. Outside of the abandoned warehouse, the wind rustled the trees, leaves falling to the ground. The light of the moon filtered through the dirty broken glass of the windows to illuminate the scene within. In the center of the spacious area, the unconscious form of a teenaged boy lay bound and gagged on the floor. Near the other side of the room, Kazutaka Muraki took off his pale overcoat, folding it neatly and placing it onto a box. He stalked over toward his captive who lay as he had positioned him, on his back with his hands chained above him, legs chained spread-eagle, and a ball gag in his mouth. Saliva trickled slightly out of the corner of the teen’s mouth.

Kidnapping the youth had been surprisingly easy. Muraki had set his sites on the teen when he had seen him at the hospital in which he worked a few days prior. The doctor had been leading a group of residents during attending rounds through the surgical ward. The teen had been at the bedside of his father along with the rest of his family, visiting the middle-aged man after a successful operation that Muraki had performed overnight. The surgeon became enchanted by the lad, who had thanked him for saving his father’s life before Muraki left with his group to tend to his other patients. The doctor was taken by the teen’s beautiful face and expressive brown eyes. He’d told the boy that gratitude wasn’t necessary. Saving people was what he did. He was a surgeon, after all.

Muraki had followed the young man in his car earlier in the night as he walked alone, separating from his friends to head for home. As the teen walked into an area that was dimly lit with no other pedestrians to be seen, Muraki revealed himself. Recognizing the doctor, the teen walked up to the car, greeting the surgeon enthusiastically, thanking him again for his work. Muraki was informed that the boy's father would be getting out of the hospital in a few days. The youth took Muraki up on his offer of a ride home. Unfortunately for the boy, the surgeon had no intention of taking him there.

Rustling could be heard as the teen began to wake. Kazutaka crouched down to regard him more closely. Fully awake, the lad began to struggle against his bonds before looking up into the doctor’s face in wide-eyed disbelief. His eyes became even wider as he noted the long sharp knife that the doctor held in his dominant hand as it glinted in the silver moonlight.

The surgeon wore a strangely pleased expression as he ran the flat side of the blade down the boy’s cheek as he whimpered and turned away. Reaching the teen’s chest, Muraki began to cut the buttons from the boy’s shirt one by one, his youthful body trembling in fear. Kazutaka parted the shirt, exposing supple young flesh. He ran the flat of the blade down the boy’s chest, scraping skin and drawing blood as he passed to the teen’s belly, earning a sharp gasp from the youth. He smeared the blood with his hand, painting pale skin in shades of pink.

Moving toward the youth’s feet, Muraki slit the fabric of the legs of his pants upward. Performing a similar act on the boy’s undergarments, he cast the ruined clothing aside. The exposed youth looked up at him in horror as what was about to occur dawned on him. Eyes glistening with tears, the teen shook his head as he tried to plead around the gag. Kazutaka leaned down, wiping the stream with his thumb as he smiled.

The doctor laid the knife down nearby, raising a hand to stroke the boy’s skin as he began to sob, chest heaving. Not yet a man, the youth hadn’t yet lost that soft smoothness to be found among boys. Kazutaka gazed down into the teen’s glistening eyes again. He knew what the lad was thinking. He knew that the boy was pleading with his eyes for another day of life. But life was Muraki’s to command. It had been for some time. As a surgeon, he brings people from the brink of death on a daily basis. Sure, he had seen many die. What other kind of doctor holds the power of life and death in his hand so literally? But on this night, ther doctor would be playing a different role. For Muraki had decided earlier that he had to find out. He had to know.

As Kazutaka began to unfasten his pants, the youth began to struggle in vain against the chains once more. The surgeon chuckled slightly as he shook his head. It never ceased to amaze and amuse him how people in general were unable to accept the inevitable. Freeing his erection, he reached into the pocket of his trousers for the small packet of lubricant. Ripping it open, he stroked the substance onto his member, enjoying the way that it felt, along with the frightened look that the teen gave him as he continued to struggle. The lubricant wasn’t for the boy’s benefit, but for his own. While he did enjoy a bit of pain to some extent, the lack of lubricant and a very tight passage could sometimes take the enjoyment out of the act for him.

Muraki let some slack into the chains before moving into the space between the teen’s legs. He pulled the youth down toward him a bit, the teen’s arms extending painfully as he moaned. Muraki pushed his legs up slightly before placing the head of his member at the youth’s unprepared entrance. The teen moaned in discomfort, struggling anew as Kazutaka forced his way inside. The soft skin tore slightly as it yielded to the doctor, the boy whimpering in pain. Muraki pressed in quickly to the hilt, enjoying both the sensation of tight heat twitching around him, as well as the boy’s muffled moan of pain.

Muraki set up a leisurely rhythm as the teen squirmed, impaled on his member. He wanted to see how long he could make it last. The surgeon breathed deeply as he listened to the sounds that the youth made, chest heaving. He wanted to keep himself quiet so that he could hear every whimper and sob. Muraki picked up the tempo of his thrusts, making the teen grunt. He loosened his tie, casting it aside with one hand, and haphazardly opening the buttons of his shirt with one hand, as his other clutched the boy’s waist painfully. Normally an obsessively neat person, Kazutaka became quite the opposite when aroused. Was it the sight of blood on his member as it pushed into and out of the youth that had done it?

The teen groaned around the ball gag as Kazutaka began to thrust into him in earnest, unable to restrain himself any longer. The teen's young body shook with each thrust. Tears began to stream down the lad’s face again at the increase in his discomfort, and the fear over what would become of him after the doctor had satisfied himself. Would he let him live? Would there be anything left for his parents to bury if he didn't?

Perspiration beaded on Muraki's face and chest as he continued to ravage the youth. The doctor couldn’t help but let out a groan of pleasure at the deliciously tight passage of the teen. He could feel the beginnings of orgasm at the edge of his consciousness. This was it. He’d find out very soon.

Kazutaka slid the hand that he’d placed on the boy’s waist upward to his chest, his fingers rubbing the boy’s ribs while his thumb stroked his xyphoid. With his free hand, Muraki picked up the knife by his side, pressing it to the boy’s skin an inch below his thumb at a sharp angle. The teen whimpered around the gag as he felt the point of the blade bite into his skin, struggling for what he knew was likely the last time.

Moaning aloud, Muraki tried to hold off, to make the moment last. However, the excitement and pleasing tightness of the boy’s passage became too much for him. Groaning, orgasm washed upon him. As Kazutaka spilled himself within the youth, he pushed on the knife that he held to the teen, blade making the soft skin under the cage that shielded the beating organ yield to it. The teen screeched around the gag as Muraki twisted the long blade as he pulled it out, heart’s blood spraying his face, chest, and the youth’s body. A pool of red spread out from the teen as his body’s blood poured out from the rent that the doctor had made.

Through blood splattered glasses, Muraki gazed down into the wide eyes of the teen, his skin becoming pale, his movements ceasing. The boy’s irises became thin rings of color as his pupils dilated in death. Kazutaka could almost see himself in them. A strange calm passed over the doctor as he began to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the exhilaration.

Head rolling back onto his shoulders, Muraki sighed deeply as he stared up into nothing, silver eyes and hair shining in the moonlight streaming in through the broken glass, a look of peace on his face. As the body cooled around him, Kazutaka smiled broadly, having confirmed the truth that he had suspected. To rape is to feel power. But to kill is a bliss of another kind.


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