Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. Characters belong to their respective copyright owners, like Sunrise/Sotsu/Bandai. Plot, if you can call it that, belongs to me.

Note: Yaoi. Lemon. Meaning: graphic sex between two males. Don't like, then don't read.
Content Warning: This is a BDSM/Fetish fic containing severe non-consensual whipping, wax torture and some latex.

Slave to Dreams: Atonement
by Ponderosa

I slid the tail of a snowy white suede whip between my hands and closed my eyes. It was amazing how such soft leather could draw screams from the flesh they so tenderly kissed. Each strip of suede was nearly a foot long and whispered together as I pulled it again and again over my open palm.

When I opened my eyes again, Heero was struggling against his bindings. I set the short whip down and glided up to the marble slab he was splayed out on. He looked like a sacrifice and in some ways he was, laid out on the altar and awaiting the God of Death.

"Welcome back to the world," I said smiling.

Heero narrowed his eyes and clenched his fist, the veins in his arm popping up as he tried to break the metal bands that held him down. His pupils were still slightly dilated from the drugs in his system, but I knew he was alert.

"We've come full circle, Heero," I said and traced a finger down his bare chest.

"What do you mean?" he hissed.

"Look at you. You're in the same position you were in that facility back on earth," I picked up a thick blood red candle that was set on the edge of the slab near his thigh. "Šand I'm here to rescue you once again."

"Rescue me?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied and tipped the candle. A stream of clear wax splashed down onto his smooth chest and he snarled. The pain was mild, I knew he could tolerate far more, but I wanted to work up to things slowly.

The wax cooled swiftly, creeping across his ribs like crimson vines. I tipped the candle further and Heero shut his eyes as the molten liquid streamed over his naked groin. I set the emptied candle aside again and its flame surged up momentarily.

"You're the first of the four I've come for," I told him, running my hand over the glossy crimson that marred the perfection of his chest. He said nothing and I peeled strip after strip of hardened wax away and flicked them on the floor.

"It's fitting that way, don't you think, Heero?" he ignored me and I hefted a second candle. The skin on his chest was flushed from the heat of the initial stream and I emptied the second candle entirely before discarding it. The wax cooled slower this time, spreading out in an inky pool across the muscles of his stomach. I pressed my hand down into the center of it and dug my nails through the thin barrier. I clawed four lines in the wax and brushed away the flakes that appeared along the edges of the marks.

"The war ended six years ago," Heero said flatly, he still hadn't given up trying to break his bindings by sheer brute force.

"You're right," I said and closed my eyes again. A thousand screams echoed through my memory and I fought to contain them. "It's been far too long. I should have begun this earlier."

I pressed my hand to my heart and tilted my head back. I slid my hand to the side and down my ribs, the flesh of my palm stuttering across the black latex that hugged my body like a second skin. I drew in a deep shuddering breath and gripped the pommel of the special whip that hung at my hips like a sword.

"For you, Heero. I'll use this," I said and unhooked the flogger from my belt. I fluttered my eyes open and smiled down at him. He was staring at my whip, eyes fixed on it as it swayed hypnotically.

"Do you know what kind of whip this is, Heero?"

No reply.

"You see how thin these are?" I dangled the whip and shook it, the strands bounced. "When a whip's tail is made from strands that are this thin, they're called devil's hair whips."

I brought the flogger up to my face and brushed it lovingly against the side of my cheek. It wasn't as soft as the suede one I held earlier, but this whip had its own, very personal charm.

"And..did you know, HeeroŠ" I swung the whip down viciously, striking his thigh with a loud crack.

"So you can craft them out of real hair," I hissed and struck him again. This time he couldn't suppress a reaction and his stomach clenched.

"It's been six years since the war, yes," I said draping the strands of the whip over my shoulder to dangle down my back and mimic my braid. "But it only took five for my hair to grow out again. One can never escape the past, can they?"

I laughed and brought my whip down to strike Heero's outstretched arm. I flogged him mercilessly, leaving angry welts wherever the woven strands of my whip kissed his flesh. The wax that had coated his chest had been cleaned away by the lashing and heaved as he struggled for breath. His face was tight with pain and I let the whip fall once more against his stomach.

"Duo," he gasped. "Why?"

I hooked my whip on my belt again and turned away angrily. Didn't he understand? I thought he was smart enough to figure it out. I hugged my arms and bent my head forward. I hadn't really wanted to draw blood from him, but if that was what it tookŠ


"So many people dead by our hands; my hands," I said to myself, watching distantly as my fingers wrapped around a stiff leather handle.

"And so you want to kill me?" Heero said, his voice ragged behind me.

The end of the long bullwhip slithered off the edge of the table and trailed behind me on the floor as I drifted back to Heero. My steps were quiet, despite that I wore a pair of heavy black boots. I moved like a shadow, slinking back to where the former Wing Zero pilot tracked me with eyes that failed to hide his fear. Interesting that he feared the prospect of his death now.

"That would be another death on my hands, now wouldn't it.

"Anything you'd like to say before you're too busy screaming?" I asked. I brushed a bit of hair away from his forehead and flicked my wrist. The end of the whip skittered over the floor and I smiled gently, reassuring Heero that he could speak freely if he wished.

"If you're trying to break me, it's been tried," his dark blue eyes slid closed and he growled, "You won't succeed."

I ran my fingers through the thick strands of his hair before I stepped back a few paces and drew my arm back. The forked tip of the bullwhip licked out, small stings that bit against his firm flesh, I circled the slab slowly, leaving a trail of welts along both sides of his body.

I planted a kiss on his forehead before I made my second round. This time, when the whip hissed, it tasted a mix of sweat and blood. I stopped again near his head and lowered my lips to his. I was surprised when he didn't use the opportunity to try and bite me. I licked the side of his mouth and traced a wet path with my tongue over his angular cheekbone.

"Tell me you understand, Heero," I whispered, my breath hot against his ear. I wanted him to tell me that he did, that he knew why I had to do this to him.

"Fuck you, Duo," he spat and I sighed.

I circled him once more and blood beaded at more than one wound on his body.

"You'll understand soon enough," I purred and brushed my lips once more against his. Still he didn't resist and I dared my tongue out, a swift lick against his upper lip. No retaliation. Was he beginning to understand? Beginning to accept? Or was this part of whatever training he'd had to resist torture.

"You won't succeed in breaking me."

I smoothed his hair back again, it was damp with sweat and I prepared to make a fourth and more vicious circle. By the sixth, I'd coaxed screams from him and by the eighth, his tears were flowing as freely as his blood.

"Tell me. Tell me so I understand," he cried by the ninth time my whip and my mouth kissed his flesh.

"This is how I atone for my sins..." I said and cupped his face, brushing my thumb softly along his jaw. I tightened my grip, pressing his cheek hard into his teeth. "I punish you for yours."


He had greatly underestimated me. I did succeed. I did in one night what OZ had failed to do over weeks; I broke Heero Yuy.


I unlocked the restraints at his ankles and knees first, then undid the shackles at his wrists and biceps. I gathered him into my arms and carried him up out of my little dungeon. I took him to the bathroom and lowered his body into my bathtub, then turned the water on.

The faucet gushed cold at first and the chill water was pink as it swirled down the drain. When it warmed, I put in the stopper and waited for it to fill. Heero was conscious, but had little strength to prop himself up and I had to hold of his arms to keep him from slipping down bonelessly.

As the water rose around his stomach, I let go and he crumpled down until he was submerged nearly to his shoulders. I turned the faucet off and bent at the waist to unbuckle my boots; stepping out of them, I undid my belt and lay it and my precious whip carefully beside the sink. Clad only in my latex outfit that mocked the flightsuits we wore as pilots, I stood and wormed my hands under Heero's armpits, levering his body up enough so I could slip in to the water behind him.

"Duo," he rasped.

"Sshhh," I cradled him against me and splashed water over his chest. I dipped my head and kissed the muscle that curved away from the nape of his neck as I washed him gently.

The combination of sweat, wax and blood took a while to clean, particularly where it had dried along the raised slashes that crisscrossed his abdomen. Those lashes had been the ones that had finally broke him. The length of the whip had drawn across his stomach and parted skin.

"Let's get you into bed," I murmured into his ear and helped him out of the tub. The water sluiced off the slick black outfit that clung to my body and the only reminder that I'd even been in the bath was the wet slap of my braid against my back as I eased my shoulder under Heero's arm to help him walk.

"Full circle," I said as he leaned on me heavily. I helped him towards the room I'd prepared for him; he moved with the same lurching steps that he had when we staggered off the sand at the base of that cliff so many years ago.

"Full circle," he repeated in a whisper and sagged against me.

I scooped Heero up and carried him the rest of the way to his room. The walls were painted a soft green and a photograph of Wing Zero in space was hung over a double bed with a downy comforter.

"I'll stain the bed," he said as I set his feet back down on the floor.

"Sheets are easily replaced," I assured him and pulled back the covers, drawing them all the way down. He collapsed onto the edge of the bed and his weight depressed the soft mattress a good four inches. I told Heero to lie back as I unscrewed the lid of a jar that waited on the brass-trimmed headboard.

I scooped a liberal amount of salve onto my fingers and rubbed it gently into his wounds, beginning at his extremities. Heero swallowed sharp cries of pain when I tended to the deeper cuts on his chest and belly. My breath caught in my throat when I heard a distinctly sexual moan in response to my fingertips gliding over the shallow welts on the inside of his thighs. I repeated the motion with my fingers and the same low moan arose in Heero's throat.

He was becoming visibly aroused and I knelt gingerly on the mattress beside him.

"Duo..." the way he said my name...it made me shiver with lust.

I wanted to take him, possess him, make him mine; yet to do that now would cause him more pain than I cared to deal out. I bent my neck, leaning carefully over his body so as to not touch his abused flesh. The medicinal odor of the balm that coated his wounds stung my nose as I took his stiffening member into my mouth.

Twining my tongue around the head of his cock was swift to entice a third moan; I'd never heard such a vulnerable and needy cry from him before. The hours on the slab hadn't coaxed anything resembling the piteous sounds he was making now.

I pulled more of his length into my mouth and sucked hard enough to draw my cheeks in. I stretched my legs out and wriggled a thumb into the top of the latex that sheathed the lower half of my body. Never pulling my lips from Heero's cock, I somehow managed to peel back and expose my own need.

I worked my tongue against the underside of his cock at the same pace that my hand moved on my own. Heero's breath was coming in sharp swift intakes that reminded me of the hissing of my whip as it arced through the air. I felt a flush of excitement at the memory and lifted my head, almost letting Heero's cock slip out. I held him there with my lips and flicked my tongue around, then slid my mouth all the way down his shaft until I felt stiff curls of pubic hair brush my lips.

Heero whimpered and semen spilled over my pumping hand. I groaned as I came and Heero responded to my cry of pleasure. His hips lifted off the bed and his entire body stiffened as hot cum shot into my mouth. I closed my eyes and swallowed, drinking down each stream until the wild jerks of his cock slowed.

I didn't pull away immediately; I licked the softening sides of his cock slowly as I let him slip out of my mouth. Once free, it fell lazily to rest pointing towards his hipbone; twitching and wet with a mixture of his cum and my saliva. I lifted my hand to my mouth, adding the taste of my own cum to his, then leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"Don't leave," he rasped and I lifted an eyebrow. "Please..."

He was broken so completely. It made me smile; my work was not in vain.

"Alright Heero," I said and eased into the bed next to him. I think he would've curled up against me if it weren't for the pain. I lay my cheek against the top of his head and murmured nonsensical words of comfort into the thick strands of his hair.

"So many people dead by our hands," he whispered, repeating what I had said earlier. "...our hands..."

"Yes," I ran the back of my fingertips against his right eyebrow and I felt his eyelashes brush against my knuckles. I was so pleased that Heero understood that he was but the first. Our former comrades would each have their chance to kneel down and ask the God of Death to absolve their sins.

I smiled again and toyed with Heero's hair until his breathing slowed into deep even breaths. Shortly after I let myself join him and slid into a blessedly dreamless sleep.


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