For You I Suffer
I had, of course, experienced the pain of blood renewing its flow through the tender buds of my nipples on several occasions. But the alcohol that impaired my judgment somehow increased my awareness of physical sensations as though in compensation for my diminished mental capacity. The pain spread swiftly along my nerves like fire, finding even the most unrelated regions of my body and setting them alight.
I pushed at Treize's broad shoulders, desperate to escape his punishing embrace and the devastating kiss that commanded what awareness I had left to spare. I wanted a moment, just a moment to collect myself, to let the pain pass as it always did. But as he had threatened, he refused to allow even the tiniest sliver of my awareness to dwell on anything but him.
Slowly the agony began to ebb and I breathed a bit easier thinking the worst had passed. But I was quickly to discover that I would find no such respite that night. Before the throbbing in my nipples could abate fully, the ambassador slid his hands from behind my back where they had been preventing me from fleeing and used his fingers to pinch the sore nubs with just as much if not more force that employed by the clamps. I moaned fitfully into his mouth. He laughed against my lips, clearly mistaking my distress for arousal, or more likely, inflamed by my agony.
"You truly are beautiful, my pet," he murmured, pulling back just enough to gaze at the flush suffusing my cheeks. He bent down to trace a tear, capturing the salty drop on his tongue. "I cannot understand how your foolish baron can stand to be parted from you."
I dared not take his apparent complement to heart. Even with my mind overset as it was I knew that would be the height of naivety. His fingers pressed together with ever greater force and my moan quickly became a tortured cry. I struggled to get away, pushing harder against his chest. I blamed the drink for my weakness; my ego refused to accept that my efforts were as a child's to him. He moved up to claim my lips once more, settling comfortably between my thighs, forcing them apart. He drank in my pitiful cries like they were the sweetest nectar as he ground my tender flesh between his fingers.
"Your tears, your charming voice, I cannot resist them," he growled.
"Please let go," I implored, beseeching for even a moment of respite. He chuckled at my words surrendered to a moan as he tightened his grip.
"And you beg so prettily. I find myself addicted. Give me more of your pretty cries."
Perhaps if I had been able to maintain the stoic silence I had originally strove to convey, things would have gone differently. Perhaps complacency would not have aroused his dark passions to the same degree as my evident anguish. But I suspected that, in truth, there was nothing I could have done that would have spared me just as no amount of begging could inspire pity in a man who lacked it utterly.
When he suddenly released me, I sighed with relief even though the sting was nearly as intense as before. But he only freed me so that he could replace his fingers with sharp, biting teeth, taking hold of my abused flesh without mercy. My eyes shut against the hurt, my lips parting as a shout issued helplessly from my throat. Newly unemployed fingers traveled down my writhing sides, stroking me in an obscene parody of tenderness. They came to rest on the globes of my ass, kneading my flesh with a gentleness that belied the abuse he was bestowing on my nipples. His fingers slid into the crevasse exposed by my parted thighs, their object apparent. But he was forced to pause when he encountered the obstruction of my dildo and I sent silent thanks to my trainer's foresight.
"What is this?" he inquired, abandoning his attack on my chest to sit back and look down to where his hips pressed against me. I had yet another reason to be grateful to Quatre and I prayed that his attention would remain thusly diverted. My chest heaved in fearful anticipation as he ran a finger over the exposed end of the wooden shaft protruding ever so slightly beyond the tight ring of my entrance. The corner of his beautifully cruel lips turned upward in wry amusement.
"So is it your comfort they wish to ensure or is it just that they wish to thwart me, hmm?" He nimbly found the edge of the dildo and began to ease it from its place. I inhaled sharply, unable to stop my body from clenching in rejection of being slowly emptied. His eyes narrowed as he noted my wanton reaction. He continued to slide the dildo out but stopped shy of removing it completely. With just the carved head still inside, he began to move the shaft in a small circle, stretching my quivering hole.
"How long have you been trained to this, I wonder." I moaned at the delicious pain of being toyed with in this deliberate manner. Was there even room for me to fall further into debauchery? My cock filled and throbbed as my thighs fell even further apart. When the dildo began to reverse its course, sliding back into my clenching shaft with the same slow deliberateness, my hips tilted obscenely to meet it.
"You like that, I see. How sweetly you move to swallow this gross abomination. Would you, perhaps, treat me as kindly?" I moaned as he continued to fuck me with the dildo, moving it at a sedate and almost gentle pace. The cream Quatre had used to ease insertion reduced the friction so that, though the gentle stroking teased me mercilessly, it was not enough to satisfy. I longed to beg him to go faster, to push deeper, anything to bring me closer to the release my shivering body was striving toward. "Would not you rather it a warm, living cock that was moving inside you?"
"Yes!" I gasped, lust propelling me beyond shame into base desire. I dared not image the picture I presented, straddling his legs, hands clenched into the couch's plush cushions, hair spread wildly as my head turned side-to-side in supplication. Was I such easy prey for anyone or anything that could quiet the burning of my lust? When had I become such an indefensible slut?
His laugh was my only warning before the dildo was pulled from me so abruptly that I cried out at the painful loss. My head was still muddled from the wine so the room seemed to spin as I was suddenly shoved from my position on the couch and pushed unceremoniously to my knees. The ambassador's hand twisted once again in my hair, obliterating any remnants of Helen's styling. Several of the golden combs were dislodged and they lay scattered about me like discarded treasures. Though I was disoriented, I had been well-trained as Treize had so damnably pointed out. So when he pressed the thick knob of his cockhead against my lips, they parted obediently.
But what came next was not the persistent yet gentle intrusion I had experienced with my master or Lord Zechs, who had treated my mouth like a priceless gift. The ambassador thrust between my lips without ceremony, groaning as he buried his cock deep in my throat. I swallowed reflexively, fighting the urge to gag. It was as though he had become larger than he had first appeared for he left no room for hesitation or breath. I tried to push back just a bit, just enough to take in a bit of air, but his grip on my head never abated. Rather, his hold tightened as he pushed himself an impossible distance further down my throat until my nose was buried in the cinnamon hair covering his groin.
My throat fluttered convulsively around him with the urge to breath. He moved back slightly and I experienced a moment of relief as I anticipated a respite. But my expectation proved premature as he returned in a violent surge, thrusting just as deeply as before without allowing me even the slightest gasp. He moved away again, this time granting me not the tiniest speck of hope before renewing his assault. Back and forth his cock scraped across the sensitive membrane of my throat until it burned.
But nothing could compare to the suffocating ache in my chest. How long had it been since I had taken a breath? A few seconds? A lifetime? Tears spilled down my face as I reached up, struggling to dislodge his grip on my head. I opened my eyes but my vision was foiled by dark spots which floated before me in a grotesquely morbid dance. A dull ringing began to sound in my ears, but through it I could just hear my tormentor's wretched voice.
"Ah, Duo, I could come just from this. Just from your throat closing so frantically around me." He hissed as I clawed frantically at his legs, but he only increased his pace, the force of his grip never abating. "That's right," he murmured, gently stroking the side of my reddening face, wiping away my desperate tears. "So beautiful," he groaned, seeming to enjoy the pain of my fingers digging into his thigh.
My sight began to grow dim. The ringing increased until I could barely hear the raggedly stressed beating of my heart. Deep down, I knew that I was nearing the end; I knew I would die at the hands of this bastard. I was as livid as I was terrified, though I could not swear whether the brunt of my anger was toward my murder or my baron for sending me so carelessly to the slaughter.
He continued fucking my throat, moving ever quicker as his excitement grew. His grunts were muted by the roaring blood singing past my ears in response to the fearful laboring of my heart. My strength began to fail and my hands lost their grip on his, sliding down his arms and dropping with a thud against the carpet as they fell lax at my sides.
The din began to quiet as my body gradually succumbed to the lack of air. The pounding in my chest slowed as my heart surrendered to the beckoning calm. The rapid flicker of thought, of struggle, of resistance and fear pulsed with faltering swiftness until it ground to a halt, fixing on one final image. As death approached, summoning me with a skeletal hand, I put aside my useless resentment. Even if he had killed me, I still loved Heero with every failing beat of my heart, and I resolved to carry his beloved face with me into the dark quiet of netherworld.
But before my body could substantiate its mortality, my head was shoved backwards and air rushed sweetly into my lungs as hot come spattered across my face. The sudden influx was too much and I coughed spastically, trying desperate to control my lungs and they greedily sucked in the sweet taste of life. I gasped, my head hanging as I clutched at the carpet. Tears spilled anew down my cheeks as I realized just how close I had been to death. And all the while I slowly recovered my senses, a hand stroked soothingly over my disheveled hair. I struck out, and though I was weak as a kitten, I managed to swat his hand away.
"Why?" I rasped, my sore throat scarcely able to form the word. I could say no more, but I glared at him, letting my eyes speak my irate confusion. He met my rage with naught but a supercilious turn of his lips.
"Do not bother to feign your dislike of my methods, my pet. I can see how much you enjoyed it." He reached down and took hold of my cock, and to my horrified chagrin, I was fully hard and dripping. Though still fitfully trying to catch my breath, I groan as he stroked me, putting a lie to my professed ire. His other hand palmed my cheek and refused to let me turn away. His ginger gaze traveled over my face, drinking in my shame with the same relish as he had enjoyed the bottle of Luftkrieg.
"Sick son of a whore," I spat around a shuddering cough. But I could not stop the moan that escaped as he continued to stroke me. True to his early confession, he demonstrated how my voice affected him by gradually returning to his previous state of arousal as I watched, fascinated and equally appalled. What sort of twisted soul could find such pleasure in another's suffering? And how perverse was I to have been aroused by such unfathomable cruelty?
Dread overwhelmed me, as much due to the unholy excitement blazing from his eyes as to apprehension at my own depravity. I tried to stand, but my legs were like water and proved completely unequal to the task. Uncaring that I was crawling like a beast, I scrabbled at the carpet, moving toward the door as swiftly as my shuddering body would allow. He watched pathetic attempt at escape, standing only as I came close enough to my goal to place a hand on the ornately carved portal.
"Duo, would you deprive me of the privilege I have so industriously earned?" he asked, grabbing me by my hair and dragging me back into the room. He flung me to the ground, looking down on me with a smirk, amused at the contrast between my debilitation and the fierceness of the glare I threw at him.
"You have no right to treat me thus," I spat. "The baron would...."
"The baron would what?" he interrupted. He dropped to his knees beside me, leaning over me when I attempted to sit up. I was still shaky and no match for his strength. He took hold of my wrists and pinned my arms above my head with one languid hand. "He knows full well what I am owed. That is why he gave you to me." I heaved beneath him, struggling to effect my release, but my efforts were as useless as ever. He took hold of my chin, his fingers punishing against my skin as he forced me to meet his gaze.
"You pleased me greatly, my pet." His indulgent smile churned my stomach as bile rose to sting my injured gullet. "I cannot begin to describe how magnificent you looked, your mouth stretched around my cock, your hands clinging to me, begging me to further your humiliation." He slid his fingers from my jaw, drawing them downward until they stroked over my throat. I stiffened at the perceived threat, but instantly realized my mistake as the reaction only kindled his lust. His hand stretched to encircle my neck and I froze as he slowly tightened his grasp.
The recent memory of his cock choking the life from me held me motionless with terror and stiffened my cock with unpardonable desire. His gaze dropped to my lips, which had parted as I panted anxiously against the remembered deprivation. My tongue slipped out to wet my lips and his eyes glazed at the sight. The pressure against my throat increased and my heart pounded, filling my cock even as my gut began to knot with terror. His own breathing quickened from thrill of watching me panic and I knew that he was moments from choking me with his own hands. But perhaps some shred of sanity remained for he loosened his hold, allowing me to breath freely if not easily.
"I would wager that your pale skin marks easily. It is a shame for I would dearly love to see that magnificent desperation shining from your incredible eyes once more. It was truly wonderful to behold." He bent low and captured my lips with his own as his hand abandoned my neck to encircle my throbbing cock. I wondered dizzily how many others had suffered thus for the sake of his degenerate passions. I jerked away from the unwanted kiss, turning my head to press my face into my arm as I fought to deny the heat that shot through me as he stoked my enflamed member.
"But perhaps," he drawled, running his tongue over the defenseless column of my throat, "we do not have to completely forsake our game, hmm?" Though my inebriation had been alleviated by the fright of my recent tribulation, the confusion engendered by the skillful hand fondling my heated flesh was just as befuddling. Otherwise I might have understood that the threat he posed had not diminished in the least.
He thrust into me with a suddenness I did not expect and left me screaming in pleasured dismay. Without releasing his hold on my captive wrists, he reached down with his other hand, forsaking my cock in favor of lifting my leg so he could pound into me with all the violence he desired. I had not been prepared beyond the care my trainer had taken earlier when fitting me with my dildo. The slickness of the ambassador's cock provided only by my earlier torture was barely just enough to keep him from ripping me apart.
I cried out in agony, pleas for some small respite falling on deaf ears for he did not ease up from his punishing tempo. I pulled at his grasp, but was still unable to shake his iron grip. My eyes squeezed shut against the pain, my cries coming in time with his thrusts. I hated my tears as they again coursed from my eyes, soaking my hair along with the sweat that coated my skin.
But it was not until I felt something brush over my parted lips that my terror returned in full. I opened my mouth to yell my dissension and my error became immediately apparent as something was pushed deep into my mouth, stealing my reason along with my breath. My assailant was not warm flesh; this time the instrument of my abuse was hard and unyielding. The scent of the cream that I had previously only associated with my trainer's patient consideration filled my nose and the taste of wood again my tongue was unmistakable.
My eyes flew open to stare at him in disbelief as he proceeded to choke me with my dildo. The gift bestowed upon me lovingly by my trainer had been turned into a device to feed this monstrous perversion. I knew now that he would not allow me to die, but my alarm was little diminished by the knowledge. I writhed in his hold as he continued to move within me, finding the locus of my most intense pleasure and hitting it pitilessly with every thrust.
But my body, having once experienced this trauma, was no longer disposed only to panic at the cessation of breath. No, my opprobrious libido flamed to new heights, my mind momentarily relieved from the duties of maintaining my life and free to bask in the sensations of being fucked near unto death. I heard a deep laugh in my ear beyond the now familiar roar that filled my head.
"Do you not feel it, Duo? Can you not feel the singing in your blood as your life slips away?" Far more experienced in such things, Treize knew that my body would remember the sensation of distress not with fear but with gross anticipation. My body clenched around him, drawing his cock deeper even as my hips heaved, trying to shove him away.
"Shhh, my pet, do not fight it." His lips were hot against my ear as he nibbled at my lobe. I could tell by the warmth that had spread across the entirety of my face that even they were as red as the flames illuminating the sordid tableau like a demonic light. I sobbed in feeble protest, the sound muffled by the dildo. In response he eased it even further down my throat before pulling it back the slightest bit, working it in and out as he had before with his cock. And just as before, my throat constricted helplessly around it, though this time I could not tell if it were in rejection or reluctance to relinquish it. He continued to whisper close to my ear, calming me with false assurances as the ache began to gnaw relentlessly in my chest.
"You are so close, my pet. I can feel you drawing me into your delicious heat." Although my body began to weaken, my legs remained wrapped around his thrusting hips with shameful passion. "Your heartbeat is slowing, Duo, yet I can still feel it pounding. Are you afraid, my sweet? Do you want me to release you?" I nodded as best I could, unable even to make the slightest noise as no air remained in my lungs to create it.
"Then come for me. Earn your freedom by showing me just how much you love me."
I wanted to. Gods, how I wanted to. I was so desperate to breathe, so frantic to find release from the pressure that had been building within me that, in that moment, I think I did love him a little. Such was the brilliance of his manipulation and I had no capacity remaining to defy him.
I was insensible to the feeling of him slipping the ring from around my cock. All I knew was the devastating rush of air into my lungs as my come jetted out in thick spurts, covering both of us in tacky heat. I felt him find his own release only distantly, the sound of his shout unable to compete with the blissful anguish of having my very life restored. I gasped and coughed as awareness returned, the fullness of his arousal undimished as he lingered in my quivering channel. My sobs finally found a voice and I cried into his broad shoulder, my emotions a confused jumble as I was flooded by equal measures of an all-consuming hatred and a desperate need for solace. He finally released my hands, smiling as they flew to his shoulders to recommence their futile attempt to push him away.
"Oh no, my pet, we are far from being done with each other, you and I," he said as I looked up at him, the haze of tears swimming across my vision. I knew my eyes registered my horror at his insinuation when his smile became almost gentle. "The night is young and my desire for you is not yet quenched."
"No," I rasped, the pain in my throat all the greater from this last bout of abuse. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, filling me with such dread that I feared I would never be rid of it. He began to move in me once again, his arousal clearly undiminished from his previous release. His tongue dipped into my mouth, and I moaned as though I could already perceive the lessening of air.
"I promise that you will always remember this night, my dear Duo," he said, pulling away to press a kiss to my flushed brow. "And you will never ever forget to whom you owe your wretched life."