Demonic Desires | By : Miko Category: Rurouni Kenshin > General Views: 4107 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic
Rurouni Kenshin & Samurai X Original Japanese Version © N. Watsuki/Shueisha * Fuji-TV * SME Visual Works Inc. * Sony Pictures Entertainment
All Fanfics Created by Chiruken (me) and Miko were written for the sole purpose of shared entertainment and not intended for publication or sale.
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RPG Collaboration Between Chiruken and Miko
Warnings: Alternate Pairing, Alternate Universe, Lemons, Violence and Bad Language.
Consider yourself Warned…
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Demonic Desires
Chapter 1
Betrayed
Fear. Uncertainty. Pain. The emotions assailed her as she was pushed through a non-descript door, her eyes blinking owlishly at the sudden change of light, her senses reeling from the assault bombarding her as she stumbled, staggered and bit back a cry of pain when her arms were wrenched brutally, pulling her upright. She stood trembling, staring, trying not to breathe as her sensitive sense of smell was attacked immediately by odors that threatened to make her gag. The place reeked. The scent of unwashed bodies, their sweat mingling with cheap whiskey soaked into the floor beneath her bare feet, cigarette smoke hanging in a bluish grey haze around her head, and a heavy scent she couldn't name, but one that called to her, sang to her, hypnotized her and that was new to her and was the most over-powering sweet, metallic, delicious scent she’d ever smelled before and it made her mouth water with a hunger and thirst that threatened to send her into a spiral of madness as her throat suddenly ached with the need to taste the sweetness of the liquid, to feel the wetness of it sliding down her throat. Empowering her with the power that was hers by all rights.
However, that power was forever denied to her by a pathetic quirk of fate and she was forced to watch others as they indulged in the simple pleasure of drinking, tormenting her, teasing her as her lips parted, her eyes silently begging, and she could do no more that watch each and every time a glass was raised to the lips of another. Her eyes followed the movements, stared, mesmerized, as the glasses rose, the thick, red, sweet, warm liquid sloshing with the movement as cruel lips curved upwards into smirks of knowing mockery, pursing as the glass was placed against them, tipped back, the ruby drops sliding forward, splashing against the lips of the drinkers, sliding over, passed them, their throats working as they swallowed before slowly, agonizingly slowly, they lowered the glass again to stare at her over the rim. She licked her lips, feeling how parched her throat was, how it constricted, the thirst beating at her with painful force as she watched as the thickness smeared the glass as it was set back down and simply forgotten. Eyes, dark and mysterious, mocking, taunting, laughing at her and her plight, reminding her painfully that she was lower than those around her, that her class was only allowed the privilege of drinking if another of a higher class was generous enough to share it with her.
She was suddenly, abruptly, yanked out of her musings and reminded painfully of why she was in this terrible, awful, and oh so tempting place to begin with. She really hated reality and all its ugliness. In that moment she truly regretted the circumstances that had led to her downfall, though in the back of her mind she also knew that she’d never change it, would never go back and deny it, that she would do it all over again even knowing what would come from her willful lack of common sense and decorum. It was worth every torment, every mocking glance, every moment of terror. Yet…even so, she still regretted it, but only in a small corner of her mind where she knew her uncertain future was going to be one nightmare after another and she wished with all her heart that she’d been able to say the one word that would have been able to save her from this horrible, terrible, frightening situation. It was a simple word, one syllable, two letters. She’d been given the chance and she’d scoffed, turning her back on the reality that had been spelled out for her, choosing to ignore the little voice in her mind that screamed caution and when she’d opened her mouth she hadn’t been able to say that one simple little word, her throat constricting, holding in the two lettered word. She hadn’t said it, she’d denied it, and now she was suffering the consequences. She should have said no.
Ugly, blunt, cruel features suddenly pushed into her view and she fought the urge to cringe back as a grubby, filthy, rough hand rose up and stroked against the curve of her cheek. She held her breath, bit the inside of her cheek to hold in the words resting on the tip of her tongue, words that would bring pain to her already aching body. She longed to scream at the ugly little man, to tell him to stop touching her, to keep his filthy hands to himself, but instead she bit down harder on the inside of her cheek and forced her eyes to go unfocused as she fought to ignore the man and his rotten breath and the thick fingers groping at her beneath the rough cloak she wore. He smiled, a grotesque parody of a cheerful expression, revealing uneven, yellowed, rotting teeth. "Ready to be sold, pretty?" His voice was like an oil slick, insidious, filled with loathing, hatred, and so rough and ugly that it matched the rest of his pig-like features perfectly. He really was a disgusting specimen.
Her arms were jerked roughly as the harsh fibers of rough-hewn ropes were ripped away from her swollen and red wrists, the raw flesh screaming in agony as circulation began to return with painful suddenness. Swallowing hard she could only stare straight ahead, holding the last shreds of her dignity around her as an impenetrable shroud, armor against the ordeal that awaited her in just a few short minutes, her wrists throbbing, the raw flesh bleeding, her fingers numb and tingling with tiny pricks of needles as feeling rapidly rushed back into them. Her relief was short-lived as chains were clamped around her wrists in place of the crude ropes and she was pulled forward, through the thick crowd, their eyes following her, assessing, mocking, pitying, until the front of the crowded room came into view and she could feel her heart sink to her toes as she saw the raised dais, held up in a place of honor overlooking the rest of the smoky, stinking, disgusting room where in the center a block stood with large iron rings embedded into the thick wood, awaiting her. It was there that she was being led, to the stage with the block and the iron rings and that was where her fate would be decided as she was put on display before every single person filling the crowded and dim room. It was to that terrifying block that she was led by the ugly, grotesque and mocking little fat man with tiny pig-like eyes and a flat snout to match. Off to the side, another man, just as ugly, though not outwardly so, stood staring at her with stony features and a curl to his lip that spoke eloquently of his disgust. He was the reason why she was in this horrible place, being led around like an animal, put on display for everyone to stare at and whisper about and speculate about. He was the one who had started this hellish nightmare she was now living. She met his gaze directly, without fear and gritted her teeth as she forced a smile to her lips stiff with fear and hatred. Staring at him fearlessly and defiantly she ignored the slowly quieting crowd surrounding them and opened her mouth for one, final, parting shot to the man who had condemned her to this disgracing entrance into her new class. "Hello father." She bit out in a falsely sweet voice, her eyes filled with every ounce of hatred she held towards the man who had decreed her too sullied, too dishonored, to stand being around her and therefore she had to go.
His features twisted with rage, his eyes narrowing to glittering slits as his lips pulled back into a snarl. She held her body stiffly to hide the trembling in her limbs, the way her legs shook so much that she feared they would completely give out and dump her into a heap on the filthy floor at his feet, a quivering mass of terrified flesh as he towered over her, gigantic in his terrible, terrible anger. She flinched when his arm rose, his elegantly manicured hand swinging towards her. Tears blurred her vision as her head snapped to the side with the forf thf the blow, the chains all that held her upright rather than sprawling in a heap upon the floor at his feet as he brought his hand back to backhand her, snapping her head back the other way. Her small body rocked from the force of the brutal blow as she fought to clear her vision of the stars that had formed, stunning her and making her ears ring. Tasting blood in her mouth she forced her bruised lips to curve upwards into a mocking smirk, a thin trickle of blood forming at the corner of her mouth. Meeting his gaze directly, she allowed her smile to widen as she licked away the tiny drops of blood and marveled at how sweet it tasted, how even that small amount fired a small, dormant power deep within her and made her crave even more.
He smirked knowingly and backed away from her with a mocking bow. "Drink it up, bitch.” He raised his hand and pointed with one long, elegant finger directly at her and her eyes almost crossed as she focused briefly on the digit. “For whore’s like you that is the only way you’ll ever get fed.” She blinked back the sting of tears his cruel words brought to her eyes. The sense of betrayal was strong within her as he turned his back on her and strode away towards his seat off to the side of the raised dais where he would watch over the proceedings with a critical and disgusted eye. She had brought dishonor to the family name and this was the only way to correct what she’d done. By denying her existence he could salvage the family’s position amongst their peers and without her presence as a constant reminder, he could begin to forget his carefully laid plans for her future. He was angrier, she knew, because she had foiled his plans to gain more political power and wealth by marrying her off to one of the lord’s of high ranking that sniffed around after her with disgusting frequency. She had been cursed with looks and a certain amount of charm and in her father’s eyes that meant her value had increased and he would use that to his advantage. However, after what she’d done, he couldn’t keep her around as a reminder of his failed hopes and dreams for a soft and cushy future for himself by forcing her into the marriage bed of some old degenerate with too much money and too little common sense. She was better off this way. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.
She stared at his retreating back for a moment before turning away. She wouldn’t look back. She refused to live in the past and dwell on regrets. Her life as she knew it was over and all that was left to her was make the best of the situation. She vowed to forget about her family and the way they’d cast her out, treated her as if she were dirt beneath their feet. She would be happy that she never had to look at them again and see the way their lips would curl as they stared through her, speaking of honor and how she’d fallen so far into disgrace that it would take centuries just to clean up the mess she’d made. She didn’t want to care about any of that, but it still hurt to know that she’d meant nothing to them at all beyond a means to and end and that their love had never existed even though she’d yearned for it her entire life and had deluded herself at times into believing that it was there, just beneath the surface. Instead of looking at her father where he sat with his manicured fingers wrapped around a glass of the warm, nourishing liquid forever denied to her now, she focused instead on the knife that was waved in front of her face by the ugly little man who was currently smirking at her. She gasped in horrified shock at the sound of her clothing being cut away, the material ripped from her body roughly, disgusting hands groping here and there before she could do much more than blink in surprise. She stared at the remnants of her cloak where it lay on the floor at her feet, her body exposed for all to see. The little man with the ugly teeth and stinking breath turned to look at her father. From the corner of her eye she saw him nod.
The man grabbed her arm as he laughed, dragging her up onto the block where he laced the ends of her chains through the iron rings to hold her in place. She thought it rather stupid on his part. After all, what could she possibly do? She was surrounded by people who would love the opportunity to beat her into submission and put her in her place. Escape was not an option and the chains were redundant. The little pig man suddenly laughed. “Let the bidding begin!” He shouted gleefully as he moved behind the podium set up to the side of the block she was standing on, chain to, over looking the crowd staring up at her assessing. She was now officially on sale, the public sale beginning with the sound of the gavel hitting wood signally the beginning of the public auction where she was to be sold to the highest bidder.
~*~To Be Continued…~*~
Page Total:: 6
Word Count:: 2432
Started On:: 1/18/04
Finished On:: 1/20/04
Author’s Notes Below::
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