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Kiss with a Fist	By : Kylee_Phoenix Category: +S to Z > Soul Eater Views: 2857 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or any of the characters in this series. I am not making money on this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Kiss with a Fist
- 1
She had appealed to his insanity for far too long, and he’d finally succumbed to her Siren’s call. She understood his weaknesses far better than anyone except Spirit ever had. Even now he remembered the guard dog at the door and longed to go back to that point, to stroke his head, to scratch him behind the ears, to give the dog a bone. . .

But it was much too late for all that now.

As she sat cradled in his lap, teasing the ever growing hard-on that threatened to pop the buttons on his pants clean off, she cooed her own brand of insanity into his ear in a whisper, and it was all he could do not to grab her by the throat, rip those cute little pumpkin panties off her body, and slam himself into her child’s form. Something inside him even now knew this was the wrong kind of paradise, but the overwhelming part of him, the one that was in control, did not fucking care anymore. The freedom he felt now that the dark side of his desire was uncaged was intoxicating the way nothing had ever been before.

And Rachel was still in there somewhere, watching from the inside, hearing, feeling, and begging to be freed herself.

            “She wants to be free, my lover. Let’s make her free.” Medusa’s slick words slithered into his ears and penetrated his brain. He smiled maniacally, throwing his head back and laughing, crazed, hungry, and ruthless, like a hyena with the smell of prey in its nostrils. She’d kept him on the brink of release for days on end, and he was at the point of taking her whether she wanted it or not.

The need to fuck the shit out of something, anything, was just barely being superseded by his desire to dissect every last inch of her young, supple, perfect skin. He wanted to cut into her and remove her snakes, so that he could cut into those as well and examine them at length. He wanted to sink his hands inside her chest and grab her still beating heart, squeeze it as it pumped blood through her body. This was as close as he got to loving anyone. He wanted to touch her every orifice from the inside. Perhaps then he would fuck them.

But Medusa had other plans. She reached up to fondle the screw in his head and turned it a few degrees. Click. Click. Click.

            “How does that feel my love? Better?” An evil grin spread across her face as his eyes crossed with physical pleasure. She’d dialed up the sensations in his body to such a level that any sane thoughts had been banished long ago. She bit him roughly on the neck, sinking her teeth in, and he screamed, a blood curdling sound full of agony. His eyes wide open and full of mania, he reached up for her throat, and in one fluid motion slammed her back against the hard concrete floor. Rachel’s small frame cracked and bled in so many places that it forced a scream out of Medusa, and she struggled to no avail against Stein’s hand. The pain blinding, she found herself temporarily unable to respond with magic or physical force, and her airways were just barely being cut off. If she continued to struggle she would slip into unconsciousness.

Was she afraid of death? Was she afraid of what he would do to her if she passed out? Or perhaps afraid of what she would wake up to afterwards. . .

No, none of these things particularly frightened her. She was only angry if not somewhat amused that he’d gotten the upper hand. She would gain it back soon enough. He’d waited until she was self satisfied and distracted enough to take control from her. Wasn’t this how he’d won the last battle they’d fought? Damn. She berated herself for falling for that again. She should have known better. She was not generally the self berating kind, mostly because the tactical moves she made were solid. It was highly uncommon for her to make mistakes. Around him, it seemed annoyingly common.

She finally relaxed under Stein’s death grip, and he backed off of her throat enough to allow her to breath again. This is his weakness, she thought, he grants mercy.

            He laughed wholeheartedly then.

“You misunderstand me witch. You’re simply of more use to me alive.”

It had gone on like this for days. Both of them fighting each other for the upper hand, verbally, physically, magically, a constant switch of the power position. Stein hadn’t managed to make a single cut in Rachel’s flesh, and Medusa had yet to successfully seduce Stein into fucking her. The tension in the room had built exponentially. Something was about to give.

Medusa’s eyes widened. What was this she felt? How was he in her head now? But the connection worked both ways. She could now see straight into his soul. She felt so exposed, and yet the sensation of being able to dip her fingers into every little crevice of his being distracted her. He had broken through her Soul Protect and had somehow managed to initiate a Soul Resonance. The kicker of it, of course, was that souls couldn’t resonate without first desiring to. Stein knew this all too well, and it amused him. Her soul’s desire had led it to naturally resonate with his when he’d offered the invitation up after using the pain of Rachel’s breaking bones to break her Soul Protect.

Harnessing the increased energy, Stein used Soul Suture to repair the damage he’d done to Rachel’s small body. The Soul Resonate was having an interesting effect because not only had he linked with Medusa, but Rachel was also connected into this strange new triad. Stein took a moment to dial his nervous system control device down quite a few notches until it reached the satisfying click of normalcy he’d calibrated it to default to. Feeling somewhat more sane now, he had a few moments to ponder the state of the Soul Resonate and make a few mental notes before Medusa chimed in.

“Are you going to remove your hand from my throat, or should I slice it off for you?”

He realized that she’d recovered enough to initiate a Vector Arrow, and it was pointing straight at the cluster of bones that connected his hand to his arm. He simply smiled.

“I could snap your neck in one quick motion before the arrow even reached my hand.” He snapped the fingers on his free hand to reinforce his point.

“No, please don’t hurt me!” The voice in his head was Rachel’s, begging for her life. Medusa heard it too because she grinned, and replied.

“You could, but you won’t. You won’t kill Rachel just to destroy me.”

He smiled.

“But perhaps I would kill to save my hand. Especially since that is my dominant hand, and my only real joy in life is to dissect.” Rachel sobbed, and it obviously pained Stein to hear it, though the dimensions of this sensation were much more complicated when it came to him. The truth was that the pitiful sound stirred in him lust and fire and tempted him from the edge of darkness to descend into it. It threatened the soul he had fought so hard to protect for so many years. . . his own. Medusa laughed mockingly.

“Oh if only you would. Self preservation would be logical, practical. But you would choose mercy for this child if presented with the situation. I think that all these years of exposure to the souls of weak people have made you soft.”

He narrowed his eyes then, smirking.

“Self preservation is exactly my aim. What you see as weakness could also be considered strength. But your view of the world is too narrow to see it this way.” She smirked, resisting the urge to rise to his bait.

“There’s nothing wrong with my view of the world. It’s visionary, inspired, and changing, unlike your death god’s.” She reached a hand up to him, smiling. “No matter. It doesn’t change the truth, the reality of things. You are a man of science. You must follow the path of truth wherever it leads. You will see things my way.”

She said all this as she stroked his face, retracting her vector arrow from his hand. Her fingers slowly traced down the scar on his face, from the bridge of his nose in a semicircle around underneath his earlobe, and his breath caught in his throat. She seized on the moment to reach up and twist the screw in his head quickly and roughly.

He winced, a small pained sound escaping his lips despite himself, closing his eyes at the wave of vertigo washing over him from such a drastic, sudden change in his sensation. He took his hand off of her throat and grabbed her hand, pulling it away from the screw, pinching the web between her index finger and thumb. With little pressure he sent her into a shock-wave of pain, eliciting screams.

“You should stop playing with things you don’t understand witch,” he growled at her between gritted teeth, bending her wrist backwards suddenly until her middle finger was nearly touching her arm. "Unless you want me to teach you the real meaning of pain."

“Fuck you, Stein.” She hissed at him, baring teeth, struggling as much as she could without hurting herself even more, which was not very much at all.

“Yes, that is what you want, isn’t it?” He mocked her, letting up on the pressure to her hand, and adjusting his grip to her wrist, yanking her up so that she had to stand on her tiptoes not to put pressure on her bruised wrist. His thumb found the tiny nub of bunched nerves that lay beneath her panties, and her knees shook both at the effort to stay up on her toes and at the waves of pleasure he was causing to roll up her spine just from the soft hint of gentle touch outside of her clothes. The contrast between the two actions, the harsh grip on her wrist and the light touch between her legs nearly buckled her in and of itself. He was such a capable man, adept at both extremes, and she savored the thought that he would put as much of his passion into killing her as he would into fucking her. The sentiment was probably much the same for either.

“It’s quite difficult to surrender completely to the pleasure when doing so would cause so much pain isn’t it?”

She moaned, and replied. “It’s pain either way, it’s just a question of what kind.”

“Then you understand my dilemma.” She peered at him through hazy, pleasure filled eyes, and the realization of what he was hinting at hit her. She laughed.

“Are you trying to suggest that my desire to save myself from pain is in any way similar to your unwillingness to rape the little girl trapped inside this body?”

He raised his eyebrows, a small smile creeping over his face. He jacked her body up a few centimeters higher and stroked her clitoris more vigorously.

“It is if you employ the use of empathy, a concept which I’m sure is beyond you.”

She struggled against the tightness of his renewed grip on her wrist and attempted to block out both the pain of standing on her tiptoes so long and the pleasure of his attentions on her. She laughed again, this time it was more cruel, amused.

“A concept which you only fake the sentiment behind. And for what?”

He smiled. “Oh, you poor creature. Your head is so far up your own ass, consumed with your own power, that even if I bothered to explain it to you, you’d never understand.”

“You’re pathetic,” She hissed, conjuring a vector plate to throw Stein across the room. To her surprise he held fast to her wrist, and she flew with him, crumpling against him as her wrist twisted when he hit the wall. The pain just fed her annoyance. “Why do you bother being someone you aren’t?”

“You’re a slow one aren’t you? Didn’t we have this conversation once already? I have so little patience for people who can’t learn. . .” Seeming relatively unfazed by the sudden relocation to the other side of the room, Stein kept his grip on her wrist and grabbed the other as well, rolling over on top of her and holding both her arms above her head, positioning himself so they were face to face now. She grinned coolly.

“Oh I can learn. I learned quite a bit of interesting things about you from that little trick you pulled earlier. You have a weakness for people who call you on your bullshit. We’re the only ones who really understand you, aren’t we?” Her tone was patronizing, and her face held more than a hint of self satisfaction.

He frowned. The Soul Resonance had given her some new ammo to fire at him. But it had given him useful information as well. In the end, he was always the kind of person to take the risk of exposing his own weaknesses in order to win, if there was a chance of winning. And there nearly always was.

“I think you’re projecting Medusa. The truth is you’re besotted with me because I was the only one who saw through your mask.” She smiled lasciviously and bucked up against him then, her pubic bone at the level of his chest. It seemed an act of admission, but he knew for sure it was meant to be manipulative.

“You know what I can’t figure out? Why was it exactly that you cared so much for that blonde bimbo I offed for you in the forest?”

His eyes widened and glassed over. That was the ace in the hole, the one she’d been saving ever since she let him in the front door and started up this little tete a tete. Bringing him back from the edge of sanity, teasing him, testing him, and then sending him right back to the brink. This had been her game all along. As much fun as it had been, now it was time to end it. To send him over the edge so that she could claim her prize.

“Marie. . .” He whispered, his mind breaking anew as the movie of her plummet from the roof of his laboratory played over and over again in his mind. How had he forgotten the very thing that had sent him to the agonizing brink of his sanity? And now it was a fresh wound, bleeding all over again, his heart hurting with the effort of continuing to beat.

"She was holding you back my lover," Medusa cooed in her sultry imitation of sympathy. "She and Spirit and the death god Shinigami, they were all holding you back from truly becoming what you were meant to be. The genius, the visionary scientist that I see locked away tight in the interest of their narrow view of the world."

She was using his own words against him and it was working like a charm because his reason was quickly leaving him in the face of the loss he was still not sure how to even begin coping with.

Was any of this real? Had that been real? It had felt so real. . . And this felt. . . unreal. That he was actually turning over and over the possibility in his mind that fucking the hell out of Medusa would be an amazing idea. A slithering idea, creeping in and out of his mind’s eye until it sank its fangs in deep and suddenly and spread its poison to the depths of his being.

“I thought you didn’t want to bespoil this poor girl’s little body. On the contrary, your body seems to be quite taken with the idea.” Medusa teased at his hardening cock with her toes.

“You’ve taken it so far already, I’m sure she’s traumatized by now. Why not take it all the way?” He gritted his teeth, willing the hard-on to go away, trying as best he could not to let this vile woman turn his crank, but it was useless. She chuckled.

“Warring with yourself is a pointless venture. Give in to your insanity. It’s what makes you beautiful.” She smiled up at him then, a hint of genuine feeling there, shrouded in all the deception and mock emotion. The turmoil still showed in his eyes, the fight to keep what was left of his sanity intact, but it was falling away rapidly.

“But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed.” He quoted the book of James absently, the connections in his brain becoming less coherent. She grinned.

”It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him.” Stein blinked, staring at her for a few moments, and then finally replied.

"'At last!' the man exclaimed. This one is bone from my bone, and flesh from my flesh!” He released her arms from his grip, and she smiled up at him.

“Eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge, my love. This is what you want, isn’t it?”

Despite all their back and forth since he had made his way to her laboratory through the maze and haze of his own deteriorating sanity, not once had they actually completed the kiss they had come so close to sharing at the DWMA anniversary party. As they stared into each other now, two cold hearts beating wildly in the presence of something familiar, their lips came closer and closer together. This time, instead of Medusa inching forward all on her own to close the distance between their lips, Stein leaned down, equally eager to make contact between them. He felt it then, when their lips touched together with a shock of pleasure, that it was time for a new world order. She had been right all along, change was coming no matter what the old world might do to stop it. Progress had to happen.

Her snake finally slipped into his body, slithering down his throat and sitting curled up in his belly. It stirred a fire there, sending waves of electricity through his entire body and setting his nerves aflame, shorting out the machinations he’d created to assert control over his own body. Gone were all the safeguards, and now the floodgates were open, truly, now that he had accepted this final descent into madness. This was the reality of things. It was as she had said.

The first kiss had been chaste, but the one that followed was everything but. All the pent up sexual and mental frustration poured into her from his mouth, his tongue searching every inch of her mouth, sliding along hers, warring with it, seeking to posses it and everything else of her being. She kissed him back with equal vigor, relishing the taste of her own kind.

When he pulled away from the kiss she balled up her fist and punched him squarely in the jaw as hard as she could, and his head jerked to one side with the force of the blow, his neck cracking frightfully in the process. He hovered over her for a few seconds, his head still turned away, but when he turned it back to her, a maniacal smile was spread across his face.

“Thank you, may I have another?” She grinned and obliged, punching him on the other side of the face this time. His neck cracked again in a similar fashion, and this time when he turned back to her, the insane grin on his face, he said,

“That feels amazing. Your turn.” He raised his open palm, slapping her full force across the face, and she reeled for quite a bit longer than he had from the punches. When she finally recovered, she looked him squarely in the eyes and said,

“That’s how we’re going to play, is it? Let me even the odds.” She summoned a vector plate and sent him sprawling across the room, slamming against the opposite wall, back where they started at the beginning of the evening. He rose from the floor and retaliated with Soul Menace, electrical charges springing from his open palm and hitting her squarely in the chest before she could block them.

“No more magic for you, naughty girl.” He grinned, white teeth flashing. “Now I can have my way with you. With that soft, white flesh. . .” His eyes roamed all over her, imagining cutting into her, perhaps turning her skin into an intricate jigsaw puzzle that he could peel off of her body and put back together into a new creation of his own imagining. The possibilities were endless now.

She laughed nervously. The fact that he had disabled her magic made her very aware of how week she was without it to defend her. She feigned nonchalance.

“Finally. I’ve been asking all night.”

“Be careful what you ask for. You just might get it.” It sounded like a threat, albeit an intensely sexual one. She smirked. She’d have to play this one very smart. She had unleashed this madman, but not without knowing that she could leash him and bend him to her will. She would appeal to his sadism. It was the only sure thing besides his desire to dissect everything and everyone around him.

“I was counting on it. After all, we have to break in this sweet little virgin don’t we?” He flashed her white teeth again, sat down cross legged against the wall, and crooked his finger at her. She complied and came to stand in front of him. Then Medusa receded into the body and gave control of it back to Rachel for the time being.

The change in her was apparent from the moment she came forward. Her eyes were small and scared and pleading, not like the snake eyes that had been there before. She shook with fear, and tears began to spring from her eyes.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she begged. “I miss momma. Please take me home.” Medusa had obviously scolded her from within because she quieted, wiping at her tears, and stepped closer to Stein.

“What did she tell you, Rachel?” He inquired calmly, smiling.

“She said I need to behave and do what you say cause. . .” She trailed off and the tears were welling in her eyes again, but she fought them off, wincing, apparently receiving another verbal lashing.

“Yes?” He said, encouraging her to continue.

“Cause it will feel good, and it won’t hurt.” He laughed.

“Is that what she told you?” He beckoned for her to come closer and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down to sit on his lap. He stared into her small, frightened eyes. “She’s a liar Rachel. This will feel strange, maybe good, for a little while, but then it will really hurt.”

A renewed burst of sobs issued forth from the girl, and she cried,

“Why does she lie?!”

He smirked and chuckled.

“Because she’s an evil, vile creature, a snake, and that’s what snakes do. They bite you. To expect anything different makes you an idiot.” The girl’s eyes were soggy with tears, and the fountain seemed like it would never stop, but he held her reassuringly. “I will never lie to you Rachel.”

“Really?” She said it with such innocence and naivete that he couldn’t help but smile at her youth, her inexperience in the world. What it must be like to be that young again. But he had never been that way even when he was young, had he? He had always been. . . diseased.

“Really.” Medusa was back, and the word had a very mocking tone to it. “Make me out to be the bad parent.” She threw her head back and laughed at their little game. She couldn’t remember the last time she had had so much fun. He grabbed her face and pulled it to his, planting a violent kiss on her small red lips, still wet with Rachel’s tears. He licked her lips when he pulled away and traced his tongue up the trail of salty tears to each of her eyes in turn.

“You didn’t let me finish.” He said. “I was going to tell her that the more she cried, the better it would feel for me.” Medusa flashed him a wicked smile.

“She still heard you.”
- 1
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Kiss with a Fist