Yes, Master

Part 5


I’d stayed in my room since my encounter with Crawford. It was quiet in the apartment; I could hear the sound of key’s clattering as they were pressed, coming from Nagi’s room. The sound had lulled me to sleep at least twice in my wait.

Surprisingly, I hadn’t heard or seen Crawford since I’d left him hard and wanting on the floor in his room. He had sought no retribution for what I had done to him, which led me to believe he would be coming to my room. I don\'t think he truly understands what this will mean between us, and I’m not totally sure of my own feelings. I don’t love him, I doubt I ever could. When I see him, there’s hatred for how he treats me like an animal, how he locks me up and sedates me, and also thanks that I was given this chance to revenge god, to be free from the asylums that tried to change what I am. I suppose what Crawford had done hadn’t been any worse than what the guards at the asylum had. I did have freedom, the chance to extract revenge, and although Crawford punished me, he never threatened to kill me or send me back.

I wonder what he sees when he looks at me. A madman bent on revenge with no brain? I know that tonight I’ve proven that theory wrong, my plan executed more punctually than any of his have truly been. I have this urge, this need to know what it means to him, what giving into me, the psychotic killer, blood tainting my hands means mentally to him. I have to know what he feels when he sees that his life and body are truly in my hands, bending at my will.

~~~~~

The time comes and goes, and as it gets closer to twelve I arrange myself on the bed so that when he enters, I am the first thing he sees. My shirt is off, I don’t wish to spill any blood on it, and I wear leather pants, so that I will be able to wipe them clean. I know they will be tight, but its all for affect when he first looks at me, it makes me appear more his master, than a not so loyal colleague.

I’d taken a knife out of one of my more special cases for this night. It was something Crawford had given me as a Christmas present, though he knows I don’t celebrate that putrid holiday. It was very special, never before used. Hand crafted with a mixture of metal and steel. I sharpen it every week, adoring the feel of the ivory handle, carved with extricate patterns and designs. I believe now that he’d brought it un-consciously, an outcry against his mind, trying to contain his desire, his want for me to cut him. Of course he brought everyone else presents, a first I think. It was the first holiday we had, all of us together without a mission. He’d brought Nagi games for his computer. Despite Nagi being Japanese he was still thrilled about it and the holiday cheer. I remember it clearly now.

Schu had gotten drunk on the fine whiskey Crawford had brought him after a somewhat traditional dinner, crackers and party hats included. After that I’d snuck out, finding some people leaving a late mass at church to massacre. I came home with bloodied hands; god had cried so much that day.

After sorting everything out, ties to hold Crawford down, a makeshift gag if he screamed to loud and my knife sharp as when it was first given to me, I lay down on the bed, staring up at the cracked tiles that lined the ceiling. A lamp next to me was on just besides the bed. It was a wall light, screwed in so I couldn’t rip it out and kill myself with it, the switch to the side allowing me to brighten or dim it. I twirled the knife between my fingers, the motion almost soothing as I waited. I’d never been a patient man, and Crawford was sure taking his time. I moved the knife to my right hand and began to twirl, the blade moving and swirling, never cutting me as I did so, even when I took my gaze from it and directed it at the door. I knew what effect it would have on Crawford when he walked in and saw me with it, saw me moving and caressing it like a lover, like how he so thoroughly wished to be touched.

About ten minutes later, just when I was starting to grow impatient, starting to believe that Crawford had decided against it, I heard a soft sound at the door. I’d almost missed it, as if the knock hadn’t meant to sound intruding. Of course it was though, Crawford has intruded on my life since day one, and especially making me so inclined to watch his every move. I waited, looking at the door and it opened just a little. Crawford peeked in, looking somewhat reluctant and uncertain on whether he wanted to enter the lions den. Everyone was scared of my room, and he was no different.

Smirking, I continued to twirl my knife, my other armed tucked underneath my head. I looked relaxed, as if I didn’t care about what he would do but I secretly urged him inside, trying to deny that I wanted to do this as much as he wanted me to. His skin called to me, I wanted to see and taste his sweet blood, to see my knife carve into his flesh and make aterntern, forever marking him as mine. Crawford’s eyes widened a little, and he cautiously slipped into the room.

“Farferello?” He shut the door softly behind him, staring over at me. His voice was soft, almost cracking like it was before. He was bathed in shadows as he nervously waited just inside of the room, hovering at the door as if he would bolt. The lamplight shone in his eyes, though his face was steeped in shadow, he looked ravishing, vulnerable. Something I craved, wanting to touch, to hold his pride in my hands with the ability to crush and also nurture. I propped myself up on one elbow, my eye raking over him. He seemed a little startled by my movement and the glow in his eyes made him look more like a deer caught in headlights, to scared to flee.

“Come here…” I quit twirling my knife, and beckoned to him with it. I watched him hesitate for a moment before he moved closer, finally coming to stand in front of me, looking down at me with fearful eyes. I traced the knife over his shirt and he caught a whimper between his lips, digging pearly white teeth in so hard that I thought he might draw blood. As I stood, slowly taking the knife from his body, he backed away slightly, waiting for what I would order next.

“Do you agree to my conditions Crawford?” My voice was low, next to his ear, as I moved behind him. Although I was shorter, I was still able to reach him there, viscously nipping his ear before moving away again, delighting in his pained whimper.

“I… it’s not that easy”. His voice was low, the barest whimper. His answer was not what I wanted and he knew he’d said wrong when I spun him around to grip him by the throat, not squeezing though, but bringing him closer.

“Isn’t it? You want my touch, you want my knife breaking open your skin, the pleasure and pain that comes with it, wanting me doing it. Doyou?you?”

I stared into his eyes and he had trouble keeping his own locked with mine, the single orb glowering brightly.

“Yes… yes but…”

I cut him off, pressing the tip of my blade against his chest. I smiled coolly, his eyes raking over my look; it must have been terrifying to him.

“If you can’t take the rules get out of my room. You are mine in here. Mine to play with, mine to fuck and treat how I like. You are my slave, my servant and anything else I fucking want you to be. For that? For that, I will give you everything you desire, everything you’ve been denying you need and have wanted for so long”.

He watched me speak, my voice alluring and somehow reassuring. He still looked ready to bolt, I knew it would be hard for him. I didn’t want to break him, never that, I liked his spunkiness, but I wanted his obedience. I was fine to change roles out of this room though.

“Decide now. In here you are mine, out there I am your dog, your pet as always, but here you are mine. And this…”

I grabbed him by the crotch, and by the buttocks, my knife resting in my hand, not scratching him. I wanted him mine and mine only. He wasn’t anyone’s to share unless I said so, I wanted to own his body, if at least whilst we played.

“Your body is mine Crawford. If I see you with anyone else once we start this without my permission, its over. Don’t cross me because I will know”. I let him go, leaving him to pant slightly. I’d felt his cock swell a little as I’d grabbed him, it appeared he liked it rough.

Turning my back on him I waited, waited for the words I wanted to hear. We stood for a moment before I heard his words, and I felt myself harden at them.

“I belong to you… master”.

I know it took a lot for him to say those words, especially to call me master, his will is to strong to do that willingly but I know he wants this.

I wanted to show him that there is more to always being in control, that to give in, to let someone take the reins if just for a while can be more than he ever imagined.

When I turned around, he took in my smirk, full and conniving. One used to worry and to fear, and yet Crawford didn’t appear to be scared, he’d resigned to his fate.

“Strip”. I ordered, and I waited for what he would do.

Part 6


He stared at me for a moment as my command took time to breach his aroused mind. The moment it did, his expression changed. Brown eyes widened a little and his shoulders shook. He must have felt my dissatisfaction at taking his time to answer my command as he slowly began to un-button his shirt before I’d even voicy any annoyance.

He went slowly, watching my face and reaction as his shirt was slowly opened, revealing silky brown skin, which I later found was completely clear of blemishes, not even a scratch. I stopped his hands as they moved for his buckle with my own. I towered over him in his slightly stooped position, looking down at him and couldn’t resist a touch. The tips of my fingers swept across his collarbone, and he bit his bottom lip to hold in a small surprised gasp, looking at me fearful that his sounds had angered me.

I had full intention of making him scream by the end of the night.

“Your skin is clear, not even a mark or cut. If you find pleasure in a blade, why do you not cut yourself?”

I lifted his chin with the blunt side of my knife so he would look at me, having no-where to turn from the pressure on his chin. As his gaze met mine, I could feel a sense of shyness and distaste radiating from him.

“I thought that my want was wrong. It didn’t fit into my life. I… I couldn’t show that weakness, that desire. It wro wrong to want it so badly”.

I could understand that. My knife called to me as the desire to be cut called to him. Only he’d learnt how to repress it all these years. Though then again, I didn’t know how long he had longed for this touch. Of mine, or of anyone else’s.

“Desire is natural Crawford. Weakness is a part of life, to open your arms to it, to let it in and happen, can be most pleasurable. It’s not such a weakness when you embrace it”.

I knew that was haing ing now, that he was finally allowing himself to give in, but to give that small segment of power to me. Someone whom he’d treated badly before, like a dog, a puppet bending to its masters’ will. I knew that the fight he’d had within himself had been greater than I’d thought and it pleased me. Pleased me to know I have such power over this man. To have the necessary means to kill him in a second, to fuck him, to take him as mine and he would agree to it, was overwhelming.

He remained quiet as I spoke; I moved my knife down his throat lightly, moving it across his chest to slide over a ne. Ie. I enjoyed his gasp of surprise and pleasure. It empowered me. That I, and only I had seen him like this. So wanton and free.

“How long have you wanted this for, to desire it so bad?”

My question seemed to set him back, his eyes flickered closed and a soft moan left his mouth, as I pressed the blunt side of my knife firmly against a hardening nipple.

“I don’t know. Before Schwarz… in Rosenkreuz, but I couldn’t let anyone know. I couldn’t let them have that extra thing me” me”.

If what I’d been told of Rosenkreuz was true, they would have used this mean of pleasure against him, taking it away from him so he would never wish to feel it, so I wouldn’t have this moment. I was glad he’d not let anyone know, I wouldn’t let them take him from me now. He belonged to me. His body called out to mine, his mind cried for the release I could give him, and he thought that he could so easily hide his reactions to the small ways I moved my knife against his warm flesh.

He was starting to fidget as he stood under my watchful gaze. His body seemed to flush with arousal and I could already see the b gro growing beneath his slacks.

“Finish stripping. And then… display yourself for me”.

I knew he didn’t know what I meant by that, but I wanted him to use his initiative. I wouldn’t condemn him for not knowing how to please me just yet. Shaky hands moved back to his buckle, and he slowly removed his belt, un-buttoning his trousers after a false start, and slowly un-zipped himself. He looked delicious in his shy, innocent movements, anyone would think it virginal. I kept my gaze on him as he shook off his trousers, folding them neatly before his hands moved to his boxers, wavering a little before he grasped and pulled them down, his cheeks blooming to a soft crimson.

He tried to hide his aroused state, until a click of my teeth made him look at me. He seemed to remember what I’d said, that I’d wanted him to display himself, and that certainly didn’t mean I wished for him to hide his arousal, that only I had caused. Moving apart his legs slightly, he placed his hands to his side and stood there, waiting for my words or touch. A next command that he should follow.

“I think that I like you in this manner Crawford. Your clothing hides the hard definitions of your body, the pert buttocks and generous arousal”.

I stopped walking around him, and after giving him the once over again, moved forwards, invading his personal space in which he tried hard to not back away, to add some distance between ourselves.

“What do you want Crawford? Tell me”.

He considered t his his cheeks fading to their natural colour as I held his gaze. White teeth captured his bottom lip as he worried over what he should say. I’d never seen him like this. So vulnerable, and hot. It turned me on immensely and I made a show of adjusting myself in my now too tight trousers. His gaze was following the movement of my hand.

“I… I want you, to touch me. With the k-knife”.

His stutter was cute, and I was glad he’d had that bit of will power to answer me. To have someone completely under my control with no fight in them was no fun at all.

“If that is what you want, that is what you shall get. Tonight is yours. But just for tonight. Beyond this, I will do what I wish with you”.

Shuddering again, I watched him nod his head a little, his eyes returning to my face.

“Are you sure? Do you really want to do this?”

I smirked at his soft whisper, almost missing it as I pondered what to do to him first.

“I’ve cut open more people than you’ad had hot dinners. Carving a design into your skin isn’t going to bother me. In fact it will bring me great pleasure.”

His whole body shuddered at my admission, and he looked nervous and uncertain once again. I wanted him relaxed, not tightly strong as if he would snap, and I brought the tip of my knife to touch his closed mouth, resting on the soft tissue of his lips.

“You find my knife arousing? It’s the one you brought me, did you have it in mind for this when you did?”

I didn’t expect an answer, but his brief nod of acquisition was a surprise to me.

“Yes… but I could never ask you. I thought you would tell the others”.

It was strange sight to see. To have the man who’d created a living hell for me, who’d killed without thought just as I have, to be so anxious and naked, and worried in front of me.

“I guess I read your mind”. I chuckled a little at his annoyed look; the reference to Schuldig probably unwanted right then. I moved my knife further away from him after licking the small drop of blood from his mouth, from where he’d spoken and started ting ing it over his skin.

“Where should I mark you hmm?”

He didn’t answer me, just stood their waiting as my knife moved down his stomach and over his hips. His breath caught a little as I passed over his now erect cock, and let it trail over his buttocks and thighs.

“On your knees”.

I moved over to the bed and placed the knife down carefully before fetching the straps I had for his wrists. Quietly I watched him at war with him self, on whether or not he should obey. The need for this, for me to cut him though seemed to win out and he moved to his knees.

“Arms out, I want you to place them around the post of my bed”.

He did so without thought this time, but the speed up of his breath let me knew he was worried, that now it was all going into affect as I tied his wrists. Tight enough, but not so tight that he would cut himself. That was my job tonight. Stepping back I looked at him. He looked so needy. His legs were spread a little, his arms were tied, and his face flushed. His hardened cock stood out proudly, glistening in the soft light, and as my gaze lingered, he looked away from me, towards the bed. Embarrassed at his need, he didn’t look at me again until I came closer, kneeling behind him, and resting a hand on his shoulder.

“So beautiful like this Bradley”. He whimpered atle tle and bowed his head slightly, and I heard the soft “Thank you, Master”, come from his trembling lips. I licked a thin bead of sweat from his neck and he whimpered again, straining for my touch. In the years I’d known him, I had never seen him with a lover, and thought myself lucky that he was giving into me. A man who could use this against him.

Kneeling behind him, I let my fingers trail to a nipple and pinched hard. His soft moan made me harden more as I leant close to his ear. My other arm was slung around his waist, the knife resting near his thigh.

“Do you truly want my knife Bradley?”

He nodded again, quickly as if I would refuse him his pleasure. I brought the arm around his face upwards until the knife was next to his face.

“Then kiss it. Before I put it to your flesh and coat it with your blood, kiss it. Show it the respect it deserves”.

I heard him gasp again before I felt weight against the knife. His head bowed as he didI coI commanded. I moved a little to watch him; even staring as the tip of his tongue caressed the blunt edge of the blalonglong with his lips. I found myself entranced by it, wondering if this was what he saw every time I did it in front of him. I soon lifted the blade from his lips, and couldn’t hold an amazed little sound as he moaned at the loss of it against his mouth.

“If you please me, I’ll let you play later”.

He kept quiet after that as I brought it back around him and stood, once again looking over my bound captive.

I moved closer again, lifting my knife to let it rest against the skin on his back. My other hand pressed against Crawford, hoping to stop any movement that I would cause from him, to disrupt what I wished to carve. I wanted to own him and I wanted everyone who ever saw his back after this to know. As I drew the knife very lightly over his skin, marking out in my mind what I wished to do, I could sense Crawford’s anxiety, his breath was coming faster, and I could feee tee tension in the muscles beneath my fingers.

“Be still”.

I knew the command wasn’t easy to follow as I pressed the knife into his flesh. I heard his sharp, slightly pained, pleasurable gasp, as I cut a thin line straight down, the blood already beginning to rise to the top of the wound. I continued with the downward movement and was glad I’d tied the American to the bed, his writhing was enough to throw me off. I was worried he’d ded ded this wasn’t what he wanted. Although I’d said there would be no stopping, I truly wanted this consensual. I knew what power I would have over him if we continued. I was going to ask him if he wished to stop when he moaned, and a brief look over his shoulder let me knew that he was enjoying this.

Watching the blood trickle from the wound, I moved the blade up to the top and cut another line across his shoulder blade before moving to the next line that made up the ‘F’. I was going to mark him as mine with my name and everyone would know that he was mine. My property, mine to cherish and hurt. As the blood washed over his skin, I bent my head to lick the blood from the wound. It was tangy and sharp, thick and full and I knew that I’d have to taste more before the night was through.

For now, I picked up the battle from the side of the bed, un-corking the whiskey and washing it over his skin, drawing the blood away as he cried out and whimpered, his body moving from the burn.

“Do you wish to continue?”

I licked his skin free again, of whiskey and blood and he nodded.

“Please master”. The passion in his voice, brimming with need and fear, was enough to drive me on in my task.

“Everyone shall know you are mine, my sweet”.