This is a YAOI-- male on male fanfic centered around the characters of Weis Kreuz and uses BDSM/fetishes. If you dislike any of these things, please do not read this story.
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‘Why am I here?’ Ken started to wonder that himself after being retrained to the posts on either side of him. ‘Is the pain Aya caused worth this? Will I feel better?’ He was assailed by doubts, but knew an answer was expected. “I want… no, I need to escape my reality for a different reality. In a way I guess I am trading one type of pain for another.” He sounded hesitant even to his own ears. “I saw you. You were beautiful. I wanted you to touch me and. . .” Ken paused in thought on how to frame his words. “I felt that you could be what I need right now.” His temper was starting to go to work. He didn’t enjoy explaining his emotions to someone that he had previously only met in battle. He got a quick grasp on his rising anger, realizing that it would only put him in a more awkward situation.
“Ah, I understand.” Farfarello walked around him again, trailing his fingers across Ken’s exposed skin. “The one who is overwhelmed by one type of pain will seek another to feel alive again. But, why would you decide to trust me near you when you are so very helpless?” Farfarello sounded amused.
“I found out a long time ago that you can’t feel pain. Yet, I have learned over the past year or so, that you know exactly how to cause it. You understand my situation better than anyone else in this place could. Yes, I think it may be foolish to trust you, but even if you were to kill me at this point, it would be a relief of sorts. I don’t think you are going to do that though. Why would you throw away your toys before you are finished playing with them?” Ken was thinking rationally and logically almost. He hoped that he was right and that Farfarello would not decide to turn him into a corpse. Now that they were both working under Kritker that could be a liability for him, but the insane blond probably had ways to work around that.
“So be it then. You belong to me now. Even when you leave here, you shall still be mine.” He hissed half in threat. “I will give one chance and only one chance to walk away. Consider it a professional courtesy. Agreeing to stay means that you accept me as your master from now until I tire of you. If you please me, you will live. Feel honored, I have not offered this to anyone else. Are you willing to place your life within my hands, to be possessed solely by me?”
Ken was silent, contemplating the words. His mind going back to the erotic movements of Farfarello’s hands on his obedient subject earlier. He considered his other options and rashly came to the conclusion that he did not care what happened to his life at the point. It would be nice to have someone else in control for a change. “I accept. On the condition that you do not order me to harm any of the members of Weis or disobey any orders from Kritker. I will be yours, but I expect you to have consideration for my feelings in your mind when you make decisions regarding me.”
“You might be expecting too much. I agree not to have you disobey any of our mutual employer’s orders and I will not involve you with other members of your units. I can not promise to let your feelings guide me. I may have different goals for you that only I will comprehend. You may never understand them.” Farfarello cocked his head to the side. “Did you know that I have wanted you for a long time?”
“Since I first saw you. You intrigued me and I wondered what your blood would taste like. If it would be as sweet as you look or if it would be spicy and burn on my tongue. Well, we shall see tonight won’t we.” He could hear Farfarello move away and open a drawer. “While we are in this club you may address me as Master Dante. You will always address me as Master and contradicting me will earn punishment. Calling me anything other than Master or Master Dante will earn you punishment. Failing to follow my instructions as I give them to you will earn you punishment. And you should know,” he paused as a maniacal grin spread over his face, “I like punishments and get very creative.” The psychotic edge in his voice made Ken blanch.
He was saved from having to answer when a ball gag was shoved into his mouth and fastened behind his head. The restraints started to make him panic. He shunted his mind away from the ingrained reaction at being completely deprived of freedom. His survival had always depended on being able to move as he needed to, but that was all taken away from him now. Ken forced his taunt nerves to relax; he would have to trust his master now. He had given himself into another’s hands for good or ill.