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When I Fall	By : ChantalMarchon Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 3207 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiß Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
We,, this chapter isn't complete, but it will be a few more days until I can write the end of it. Warning this chapter is just smut. No plot.-- It just kind of flowed into the story that way. However, when I finish the next segment of this chapter, Aya's deep, dark secret will be revealed and his nasty attitude will all be explained! --(Suprisingly, Aya is my favorite character besides Farfie. Hard to believe isn't it?) Anyway, hope you all like this little piece, until I can get the rest of it finished. I just worked a bunch of hours at my job and am looking forward to a 14 hour shift tomorrow. Yuck.
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Wrapped in a straitjacket, Farfarello sat hunched in a corner of the room he shared with Ken. It was sparsely furnished with a king-size bed, a large armoire, a closet and a couple of storage chests. There were also hooks and I-bolts located at regular intervals around the walls, ceiling and floor. The owner had decorated it to look like a gothic cathedral with the bed on a pedestal symbolizing an altar. He had been very pleased with the design, although Crawford found it to dramatic. The team leader had finally agreed to let him have furniture and to get rid of the padded walls when he saw that Farfarello was stable with the new medicine supplied by Kritker.
Stable, however, is a relative term when one is discussing levels of sanity. While Farfarello was considered a genius by Estet, he could rarely display his true intelligence because of the irrational manner in which his mind functioned. After Aya's fight with Ken, he had quickly reverted into a psychotic demon. For safety and security of the team and anyone else who crossed his path, he was tranquilized heavily.
Ken sat with him, just holding him. Aya's punch had ripped some stitches, but not inflicted anything more damaging, so Crawford agreed to let him stay with Farfarello. Schuldich knocked on the door and walked in carrying a plate of food. Steak cooked medium rare and cut into slices, potato au gratin and broccoli with hollandaise sauce. "Bon appetite." He said as he put the food down next to Ken. The steak was already cut into bite size pieces.
"American style food?" He looked at Schuldich in puzzlement.
"Yes, Farfarello likes to have Western style meals and he will be waking up soon. Nagi cooked it. Heaven alone knows when he learned how to cook, but he is pretty good at it."
"OK, thanks. I remember master telling me that he preferred western food once. I guess I was surprised that you guys would indulge him." Ken felt awkward confessing to Schuldich.
"Well, in many ways we are more like a dysfunctional family than just a team. To us, Farfarello, is our brother and he needs to feel that he is important to us when he has to be sedated and tranquilized. Despite everything, he needs to understand that we are here for him. Mental illness is difficult for the bearer to deal with alone and support is important. If Farfie didn't have the team, he would still be locked away in some asylum in Ireland, under heavy sedation, barely functioning. If he seems to be feeling more himself after he eats, you can let him go." Schuldich left, shutting the door behind him.
Within a minute of him leaving, Farfarello started to move, weakly struggling in his bonds, trying to wake up. "I'm here master. Are you thirsty?"
The blond frowned lightly as his mind tried to figure out the meaning of the words spoken to him. It took a full minute for him to process the thought and respond. "Yes." He whispered, barely audible. Ken held a glass of ice water and tilted it to allow the other man to drink.
Farfarello sipped at the water cautiously, still trying to piece together his surroundings. "Ken. Are you hurt?" His tone sounded vaguely concerned.
" No master. Some stitches ripped, but it didn't hurt the surgical area." Ken paused, touched by the relief that was apparent on his master's face. "Would you like to eat? It's been about 14 hours since you last had anything and Nagi cooked something special for you."
"That will be fine. I imagine that my body is hungry and I feel empty." He looked at the plate and smiled in delight. "Oh, he made some of my favorites. He always amazes me when he goes through the effort of making something I will like."
"Please let me feed you master." Ken requested. "It would give me great pleasure to assist you and Schuldich said that I wasn't allowed to release you until after you ate."
Farfarello looked thoughtful for a moment, considering the irony of the situation. "I think I might enjoy that actually, just don't make a mess. Too bad you are still not healthy enough to be punished." He smirked as Ken gave him a hesitant smile.
The sporty, former soccer player used a fork to delicately place a piece of meat to his lover's mouth. His gaze never left the faintly pink lips. He continued to feed his bound master, paying special attention to his mouth. A drop of juice clung to the lips he found to be so blatantly seductive. Leaning in, he licked the moisture off with the tip of his tongue. Farfarello's tongue darted out quickly to meet with it and coaxed him into a deep kiss. Ken managed to feed his master in between the sensual kisses, but only because he was afraid that Nagi would be upset if he sent the plate back to the kitchen full of food.
"I've had dinner, now release me." Farfarello ordered softly. "I'm in the mood for something else now. I think I have a way to play with you that won't stress your injuries to much." A maniacal light gleamed in his eye.
Ken swallowed, he half feared and half anticipated what Farfarello could be referring to. Anything was possible. He quickly undid the buckles holding the blond into the straitjacket. His master shrugged off the jacket and stretched his arms wide, the joints creaking in protest.
"Damn, I always get so stiff in that thing. Not that it is uncomfortable. It's not, more like a cocoon. Now let me see what I have in my trunk over here." He walked across the room to a large chest that looked like something off a pirate ship. He flipped the lid open and removed a small shelf that contained different sets of restraints. From underneath it he pulled out a contraption that Ken could not comprehend just looking at it. "This will do quite nicely I think." He started to assemble straps, hooks and even a pulley and finally hung the entire thing from a solid beam in the ceiling.
Ken watched silently waiting to be given instructions on what was expected of him.
"This is a swing. It will support all your weight, keeping you off your injured leg and off your stomach." Farfarello explained. "Come over here and lay down on the floor with this part under the top if your hips." He pointed to a five-inch wide strap suspended between ropes. "Then this part will be fit just under your arm pits."
Ken placed himself as he had been told and was surprised as he felt the swing being pulled, lifting him off the floor. His chest was positioned slightly lower than his hips and he could feel blood rushing towards his head. Farfarello rummaged in his trunk and pulled out a spreader bar and set it between Ken's feet, pushing his ankles far apart so that he rested completely on the swing bent over at an awkward angle.
"Hmm, that is almost right, but there is a slight problem here, isn't there?"
"If master thinks so." Ken stumbled out the answer, feeling somewhat odd at being held in the swing and unsure what his master had planned.
"Oh, I definitely think there is something wrong here. You still have clothes on, but just as well, now I can remove them. My way." Farfarello stalked over to his armoire, in full view of his slave and pulled out a small dagger. He briefly tested the edge on his finger to make sure it was sharp enough then gracefully approached his waiting slave. "Don't move, not even a twitch. I don't want you to need another transfusion." The master pulled the blade through the slave's clothes, easily cutting through the fabric, barely skimming through the skin. His pace was unhurried as he watched each millimeter of the knife's path with obvious fascination. Thin trails of blood followed in the wake of the dagger. The skin cut so shallowly that the crimson drops left the body very reluctantly.
The sharpness of the blade kept Ken from even feeling the cuts. He was more concerned with his clothes falling off of him in pieces. Not that he cared about his old track shorts and gray t-shirt, but to see them landing on the ground next to him caused a rush of excitement. His master was stripping him, torturously slow with a knife. His body started to hum with expectation. It was the tongue that lapped at his bleeding cuts that caused the twinge of pain and pleasure. It moved across his broken skin eagerly sucking at the blood as a hand smoothed and smeared his body with the red fluid. The hands and mouth causing his body to inflame with need.
"Your blood is sweet, but not too much. I like it." Farfarello murmured.
"I like your mouth master." Ken moaned.
"And I think I want your mouth to service me." The master spoke softly, circling to Ken's face and shoving his dick close to his slave's lips. "Suck." He ordered and rammed himself deep into his slave's hot mouth. Ken struggled not to choke, gagging slightly as the thick length hit the back of his throat. "Swallow it, take my whole dick into your mouth." Farfarello gritted his teeth as he grunted out.
Ken sucked the cock further in, wrapping his tongue around it. He held his breath as he swallowed against the head to take it deeper. The master paused in satisfaction as he looked at his slut, nose buried in his hair. He enjoyed the sight of the other man attempting to pleasure him and suck him as he struggled with the harngthngth lodging in his throat. Farfarello pulled himself out and slammed in, savoring the wet feel of the tongue and lips. He set up a punishing rhythm that allowed Ken to snatch half breaths.
Time seemed to stretch and Ken became light headed, desperately gasping in air as he was allowed. Farfarello pushed himself deep into the open mouth, his entire body stiff as he gushed into his slut. The slave could not help choking as the warm semen flowed down his throat, but the tightly lodged dick blocked him from swallowing. With an evil smirk, the master finally withdrew. Ken lay suspended with his head down, gasping for breath with white cum dripping from his lips to the floor.
Farfarello grabbed Ken's hair, pulling his head up so that he would meet his gaze. "It would seem that you made a mess, slut. For that you will have to be punished. When I cum in your mouth, you have to swallow every last drop. Do you understand?"
"Yes master, sorry master." Ken managed to get past his abused lips.
"We'll see if you are sorry in a few minutes. Of course, this may not hurt much, I really don't know. But, I have been wanting to do this for a while." Farfarello went to the armoire and pulled out an odd box, inside. He opened it and pulled out a package that was obviously made for performing some sort of surgical procedure. He pulled the package open and produced a large needle, like tool. "Oh yes, this will do nicely." Using the pulley he levered Ken up into an almost standing position and began to pinch and roll the slave's nipples. Ken was nervous of his master's intent but his hands caressing the sensitive skin were making him shiver. Once he was satisfied that the little nubs were fully erect, Farfarello pulled one and stretched it then forced the large needle through the base of the nipple. Ken flinched causing him to pull on the needle. It did hurt, a sharp piercing pain. His nipples always were very sensitive. He moaned as the needle was withdrawn and a straight bar shoved through the newly created hole then screwed small balls on to the end. Ken held back the whimper in his throat as his master pulled on his other nipple repeating the procedure.
Farfarello stood back to admire his newly pierced slave. He definitely liked the look and as long as the rings were in, the small nubs would stand erect. A little temptation for him to play with. "I think I will buy some gold hoops to put in the piercings when they heal." He suggested thoughtfully.
"Thank you for your kindness master." Ken answered, gritting his teeth. While it certainly hadn't hurt nearly as badly as his bullet wounds, the area was aware of every small movement of air; every small touch and it sent need coursing through his body.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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When I Fall