Bijoux says (12:35 a.m.):
hello rape
nice to meet you.
Adam says (12:35 a.m.):
hello victim
hey, does this smell like chloroform to you?
Bijoux says (12:36 a.m.):
pppffttttthaha-*zzzz*
Adam says (12:36 a.m.):
...Just as planned.
Adam says (12:38 a.m.):
...Oh, shit.
How much do love hotels cost here...
Bijoux says (12:40 a.m.):
*too much*
Adam says (12:41 a.m.):
Fuck...
Actrually, maybe not.
Goddamn
...Wow, am I buzzed?
Bijoux says (12:42 a.m.):
*i'm passed out how am I supposed to know*
Adam says (12:43 a.m.):
Taking her home, then.
Bijoux says (12:43 a.m.):
*such a gentleman*
*hope you're not driving while buzzed*
Adam says (12:44 a.m.):
...Just gonna.... call a cab. Yeah.
Date drank too much, passed out, I'm taking her home.
Bijoux says (12:46 a.m.):
*ohohoho better hurry that chloroform aint gonna last forever*
Adam says (12:46 a.m.):
The dude driving the cab will know where I live, though... Shit [takes out cell phone]
Bijoux says (12:47 a.m.):
*by the way if you can't afford a lovehotel how can you afford a cab*
Adam says (12:49 a.m.):
Yuri: [Sigh] Hello?
Adam: Hey, Yu--
Yuri: Fuck no.
Adam: Wait.
Yuri: ...
Adam: I need a ride.
Yuri: Call a cab.
Adam: I... can't.
Yuri: ...Again, Adam? Seriously?
Adam: Come pick me up.
Yuri: I was *sleeping.*
Adam: Send someone.
Yuri: No. ...Why don't you drive home?
Adam: I'm... kinda buzzed, I think?
Yuri: You think.
Adam: Yeah...
Yuri: Well, have fun! [Hangs up]
Adam: ...Thanks a lot. Bitch.
Bijoux says (12:50 a.m.):
*lolol if I was awake I'd be laughing at your pain*
*actually no, if I was awake I'd be running and screaming*
*but still, lol*
Adam says (12:51 a.m.):
[Sighs, gets her on the car anyway. Gonna drive home. *Slowly*]
Adam says (01:14 a.m.):
Driving slowly, sneaking a few glances at the woman, he makes it home. He gets in with some minor problems, then heads straight into the room. Dropping her onto the bed rather unceremoniously, he takes out some rope and ties her up, hands together bound to the bed's headrest while her legs are spread and bound to the edges of the bed.
He sighs, looking at her, head tilted to the side, "Now what..." He takes a better look at her. Should he just undress her now, or...?
Bijoux says (01:29 a.m.):
Right about the time he dropped her, the chloroform was starting to wear off and she was stirring. A soft groan here, then a twitched limb; her eyes remaining closed all the while. For someone being handled so roughly, she took a long time to wake. When the chemical finally releases its hold enough for her to open her eyes, she glances around the room, gaze unfocused and thoughts cloudy.
A look to her hand and legs. Bound. A familiar situation, nothing to worry about yet. Dropping her head back down, she drifts back into the haze of near consciousness despite the nagging feeling of something being off in the back of her mind. Too hard to think about it right now, she needed to sleep a bit longer...
Adam says (01:42 a.m.):
He keeps a close eye on her, taking his jacket off. He drags a nearby chair and props his foor there, undoing his shoe laces, taking the shoe off. Does the same with the other foot, still staring. That's enough for now. He needs to take care of her, first. That means the gloves stay on, for now.
Should he cover his face? Maybe she hadn't seen him yet... Well, it didn't matter. She wasn't leaving any time soon. He had to do something about her, though; cover her mouth so she wouldn't scream. What could he use, though... Ah, a cravat, sure. He got on the bed, towering over her, and proceeded to... open her mouth and stuff it in there, why not? He didn't like her being... asleep.
"Just going to lie there and sleep? We're not on vacation, sweetheart. We need to get to work." He took a knife he had placed on the night stand before heading out and sat on her legs, looking at her clothes. "How in the hell do you take these off, anyway...?"
Bijoux says (01:59 a.m.):
There's... something in her mouth, now, something too big for her to just spit back out. And a voice spoke near by... an *unfamiliar* voice. A male voice other than the one she expected to hear. The nagging whisper turned to a scream that cut through the drug induced haze. He's not here anymore and this is wrong. Her eyes snapped back open to stare at the man sitting on her legs, first wide, then narrowed when she looked from him, to the knife he set on the stand and back. Who are you, was what she would've asked if her mouth wasn't gagged, but with it in she could only make a disgusted grunt and kick her legs as much as her bounds would allow. Her thoughts were still fuzzy, too cloudy for her to remember how she'd gotten here or to start a plan for escape, so she shook her head a few times too, trying to clear it.
Adam says (02:08 a.m.):
He took a look at her face at just the right time. "Awake at last, huh? I was starting to worry you'd sleep through it." He took a fistful of her clothes, the area around her abdomen, as she started to kick her legs around. Well, if she was being this rowdy, there was no need to worry about these, was there?
"Don't move around so much, now. I don't want to cut you up... Yet." He yanked  the fabric upward, that bothersome ... obi, was it? Whatever it was called, it didn't matter. It'd be nothing but a useless rag in a couple of minutes, as he started to cut through it with the knife. "Why do you women wear these things, anyway? Such a waste of time..."
He chuckles a bit, kind of amused by the sounds she was making already. "Want to scream? Sorry, I have neighbors. I think they'd like to keep on sleeping. Feel free to make more of those, though. Soft little noises... I bet you'd sound cute, if you didn't have that in your mouth..."
Bijoux says (02:23 a.m.):
Cut her up... a couple more scars on her body was hardly a concern. She only thrashed harder after he told her to stop, trying to knock the knife out of his hand or SOMETHING. It was probably futile, but she wasn't about to lie down and just take it from him. Maybe she could get somewhere if she got him angry.
Did she want to scream? No, she wasn't that stupid -  screaming was the quickest way to really get a knife buried in her. She wanted to talk with him. What she would say, she didn't know, but if she could she might have a way to get out of this situation. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head at her captor, a definite no to his question. His remark about her sounding cute got a derisive snort, and she leered at him around the wadded piece of fabric, a challenge for him to remove it if he dared.
Adam said (02:43 a.m.):
More thrashing? Did she hear him wrong? He thought his Japanese wasn't so-- "...No? Don't want to scream? What the hell do you want, then?" He scowled at her, stopping halfway through cutting her clothes.
She was rolling her eyes at him, shaking her head when he asked if she wanted to scream... snorting at him? *Leering* at him? Oh, how nice...
He resumed cutting up that damn thing again, rougher this time, his eye lightly twitching in annoyance. When he finally got it out of the way, he almost let out a triumphant laugh. Almost. He didn't stop the grin that came up, though. "So..."
He removed the damaged cloth and opened up her kimono, then placed the knife back on the stand before getting back on top of her, this time running his hands over her stomach and kissing her neck, "Thrash all you want now. Let me feel you move."
Bijoux says (03:08 a.m.):
His question was met by a jerk of her chin and another challenging stare, glaring right back at him. Idiot, she couldn't tell him what she wanted with the gag in, he had to know that. And he went right back to his cutting anyway. She growled, huffing at how he seemed proud of getting through the thick fabric. Good job, he knew how to ruin something expensive. Someone must be /so/ proud of him.
She wore her kimono the traditional way with no undergarments, so beneath it there was nothing but the faintly scarred skin of her chest, stomach and legs. So pale, the marks only appeared as slight raised lines, especially abundant on the inside of her thighs. His touch caused an involuntary shudder through her, then she willed herself to remain still as she could. A refusal to give him that satisfaction.  Meeting his eye, she gave him a decidedly unimpressed look, one that read as pure annoyance rather than the fear that should've been typical for this situation. Yes, she was more angry than afraid right now - a common thug touching her, trying to to exert power over her, using her body... unacceptable. Another disgusted noise came from behind the gag and she looked away from him.
Adam said (03:30 a.m.):
He got a shudder out of her... and then nothing more. Was she trying to stay still? This girl was bold. And annoying. What reason did she have to be acting so high and mighty, given her current position? His kisses grew from light touches to sucking as his hand traced from her stomach to her neck.
His hand wrapped around her neck as he moved his open mouth to her shoulder. He squeezed her neck rather tightly as he sank his teeth into her flesh, a growl escaping him. Who the hell does she think she is? She should be terrified, squirming away from him, eyes watering if not spilling tears already.
He bit harder before finally pulling away, absentmindedly licking his lips as his other hand took hold of her neck.
"What the hell? Don't you know what kind of situation you're in? Want me to spell it out for you?" He growled at her, tightening his grip with every other word before finally releasing her. He took off his gloves and tossed them aside. He took another look at her form below him and noticed a couple of... scars? Quite a lot of them, actually. "Tch."
He took his cravat from her mouth but kept it close to her lips as he drew his face mere inches away from hers. If she tried screaming, he'd find a way to shut her up, and quickly. "Have you been through this before?" He couldn't help a laugh from invading his question.
Bijoux says (03:57 a.m.):
He kept kissing her, sucking at her neck. She just narrowed her eyes and remained unmoving, getting angrier. The fact that she might actually enjoy this, were it someone else's lips pressed against her, just made her all the more annoyed. This thug... he had a lot of nerve, biting like he was trying to leave a mark. She would leave a mark of her own on him, if she ever got free from these binds.
He was growling now, biting harder. Breaking the skin this time, she could feel a couple drops of blood running down her neck. Did he think he was some kind of animal? A vampire? She rolled her eyes at the thought. Not only did she get kidnapped by some thug, but by a delusional thug at that. At least her ploy of not reacting seemed to work, he looked almost as irritated as she felt, now.
And then his hands went around her neck. That almost got a reaction out of her - made her remember softer hands choking her that went on to claw at her face and she wanted to kick and thrash until she was free and the situation reversed. It wasn't going to happen that way again, not with this monster...
But he let her go before she lost her composure and pulled the cloth out of her mouth. She took a huge gulp of breath once free, a reflex and a stretch of her jaw muscles before she spoke, almost grinning.
"Have I been pawed over by some desperate beast before? No, I can't say I've had that pleasure before now. I'm not particularly impressed by the experience, either. Let me go."
Adam said (04:28 a.m.):
He actually laughed more at that. A desperate beast, she called him. Awfully calm, this one.
"Not impressed..." He repeated as he straightened up, undoing the buttons on his shirt, "Does that mean you had expectations? Did you think of this as a possibility? Some guy having his way with you? No wonder you're being so brave."
He grinned broadly as he finished with his shirt, taking it completely off and throwing it out of the way. What would it take, to get her to fear him? Most of his previous interactions had been... easier. They'd gone exactly the way they should've. This was pretty new to him, having such a brave victim. What was he supposed to do, just go on in and be done with it?
He took the knife again, ignoring her for a while. It wasn't much use if all he used it for was to rip clothes off. He pressed it to her skin again, over a faded scar. He traced its length softly. "I wonder how these were made..." He did the same with another scar, "Should we replay them?" He pressed the knife against one over her ribs until he drew blood.
He took the knife again, ignoring her for a while. It wasn't much use if all he used it for was to rip clothes off. He pressed it to her skin again, over a faded scar. He traced its length softly. "I wonder how these were made..." He did the same with another scar, "Should we replay them?" He pressed the knife against one over her ribs until he drew blood.
The contrast of red on her pale skin was so lovely... The times he had been able to actually see blood dripping like that, the skin had been darker, rougher. He opened up another old scar, and another, to see if the effect was the same.
"Hm... You two are quite similar. I wonder if you'd bleed as much if I cut you the same way?" He leaned over her again, this time grounding his body down onto her, as he pressed the knife to her forearm. "I didn't do this to her, but I saw her bleed. First and last time." He cut into her skin, tilting his head. "Her skin is darker, but it felt just as soft when I tried to get a better look."
He glanced at her face for a moment and his mild daze was broken. "Yuri wouldn't be caught dead in this situation, though." He sat up straight again and dragged the knife from her clavicle to her bellybutton, not deep enough to leave an unsightly scar, but deep enough to draw blood from it. Then he just started licking her wounds, slowly, scratching the small openings with his teeth.
Who cares if she isn't impressed? She's not the one supposed to be having fun here.
Bijoux says (05:39 a.m.):
"No expectations, really. Which makes it all the more sad that you haven't met them."
It was true, she hadn't expected that any man off the street could ever get an advantage over her. That anyone she hadn't freely given herself to could do this to her. She was too strong for that, with the training she'd been given and her Persona... It seemed she was paying for her over confidence now.
It wouldn't happen again, if she managed to get out of this. What /would/ it take to get out of this?
"Let me go," she repeated, louder. A threat seemed trite when she couldn't make good on anything she might say. But she wasn't about to beg to him. He was below her and she wasn't afraid - she just had to wait for a good opportunity to free herself, wait for him to drop a hint that she could exploit.
She hissed through her teeth - a quick, sharp sound - at the first cut, not hurt but despite his threats seeing blood drawn with the knife was surprising, somehow. After that though, she remained calm, even laughing softy at his quip about her scars. "Replay them... hah."  He couldn't understand. Even if he somehow twisted the knife the same way as Kazu did, drew it across her with the same delicacy and touch, his marks would be meaningless to her; he could make as many on her as he wished.  He was rambling now, making shallow cuts on her body as he spoke. She closed her eyes and exhaled, letting him talk, already assuming speaking to him would be useless when he was like this. He was starting to remind her of her, both of them shared the love of their own voice...
The thug spoke the name that she'd been thinking. Yuri. Her eyes flew open and she stared at him. Why did he know her? And he'd... cut her before? Maybe he was more than just a thug after all. There was something she could use there, but her curiosity almost overwhelmed that fact.
"Was she another one of your victims?" she asked, after a time, trying to keep her voice and face neutral. "Another innocent woman you decided to snatch up?"
Adam said (06:04 a.m.):
Did she think he'd mind how she tried to insult him? He'd already decided he wasn't going to care whether this affected her or not. Though, admittedly, it'd be less entertaining if he couldn't get a reaction from her.
She repeated herself once more. She wanted him to let her go. He simply chuckled at how dumb that sounded. As if he could just let her go. He couldn't. Not now, probably not ever.
Not alive, anyway.
She *did* make a sound, she hissed when he cut her the first time. But then she was back to being quiet and still. "Putting up a fight in your own way, huh? That's so cute..." He kept licking her wounds until she spoke.
She spoke? Why? Oh, right. He'd mentioned Yuri. Well, that had been dumb of him. He really had to get a better hold of himself at times like these. He sat up and looked at her straight in the eyes before he answered, his hand finally reaching down.
"Yuri, a victim? The only thing that woman's victim to is her past." He inserted two fingers in her, sliding in and out at a steady pace. "The thought of her as an 'innocent woman,' though. That's almost blasphemous." He chuckled as he lightly curled his fingers inside of her, still keeping the same rhythm.
"One look into those eyes and you'd see, she hasn't been innocent for years now. Those eyes alone would kill you before showing a shred of innocence. That's how I see it, at least." He quickened his pace at that, "That woman... She wouldn't be caught dead in a situation like this. Didn't you hear when I said *that*?"
He jammed his finger in, as far as he could, "Or were you too busy trying not to react?"
Why was he talking about *Yuri,* of all people, at a time like this? Probably because she had shown interest. Was she trying to gain something from that? How sad. He thought she'd try something else, something with better chances of succeeding, if she wanted to break free.

Bijoux says (11:06 p.m.):
He taunted her while he licked the cuts he made, apparently wise to her form of resistance. Abruptly, she growled and jerked beneath him, trying to knee him in the stomach just to get him to drop that smug tone for a moment. His teasing frayed at her already thin patience. The situation was slipping further out of her control.
At least she'd been able to deny him the satisfaction of her reaction before. That had been easy, there was nothing he'd done that she wouldn't be able to tolerate - nothing she wouldn't have welcomed, even, in the right circumstances - but him being amused by her rebellion showed that things were playing further in his hands.
There was at least one thing that he couldn't control and it was her reactions. As satisfying as it might be to thrash and bite and scream at him, it would mean she'd given that to him too and she couldn't lose that just yet. So even as his fingers invaded her, she forced herself to remain as passive as she could.
He was talking about Yuri, which at least gave her something else she could focus on besides his violating her. He knew her somehow, a figure in her past, apparently.  The idea of Yuri's past was a strange one, something she'd never given much attention to. It was her present that she was involved with, after all, but now she found herself wondering how this man fit into it.
"Then who was she to you?" Her voice pitched up into a quick gasp when the hand gave a sudden thrust and she stiffened but continued on with her question, ignoring his. "The one that got away? You were talking about her so fondly earlier. Even if she wouldn't be caught dead like this, you sound like you wanted her here."
Adam says (12:32 a.m.):
Growling, moving around, then trying to stay still... such an unusual victim, this woman. While he had wanted something he was already used to, this change of pace wasn't so bad at all. It was almost... fun. He wondered how things would go from now on, if she would show more resistance once he was done playing with her. He also wondered if he could perhaps keep her for a while longer...
He had to admit, that last thought was a little too reckless, even for him. He'd wonder such things later, if not dismiss them entirely.
He kept his hand moving, though he was already getting a bit bored with how stiff she tried to be. Did she really enjoy doing that? Was she satisfied with just feeding her own pride, trying to make things difficult for him to enjoy? He could just--
And there she was, back at it again, asking about Yuri. Why was that damn woman invading his thoughts *now*? Why was *this* damn woman so curious about her? Was it still part of her plan to annoy him? He hadn't noticed it, but his hand was thrusting harder now, since who knows when. He removed his hand and got up from the bed, licking his finders absentmindedly; his mind felt crowded.
Images of Yuri from the last time he saw her, imagings of her in place of that pale woman... He gritted his teeth as he went around the bed, undoing his pants, before he took the knife from the night stand. No, imagining that was no good. He went back to the foot of the bed and placed the knife in his mouth, holding it between his teeth as he worked on the ropes. He shouldn't compare them.
He wouldn't untie her. All he was doing was adding some length to the ropes, so her legs were a bit loose; just enough to bend a little at the knees, really. He had to focus. Once he was done with both legs, he walked over to her, knife still clamped in his mouth. He leered at her, drawing his face closer to hers, before he took a hold of the pillow under her head and yanked it away.
He stood beside the middle of the bed and got a knee on the mattress, placing himself over her. He adjusted the knife so he was biting on the handle, the blade dangling from his mouth now. He placed the pillow by her hips, smiled at her, and jammed his finger inside of her again, his palm firmly against her clitoris.
He curled his fingers inside and nodded his head at her, then pulled upwards as he placed his other hand on her ass, pushing upward as well. He kneed the pillow until it was under her and then eased her down, taking his hand out of her. He walked to the end of the bed one last time and crawled up at her until his groin was over hers.
The knife was still dangling from his smirking mouth as his hands supported his weight, grounded on either side of her. He started lowering his pants, using one hand to achieve that while the other kept him propped over her. Once they were down, he used a hand to steadily insert his member in her, slowly at first until he was sure the tip was in, then roughly until he was completely inside of her.
He was still for a moment, just staring at her. Then he took the knife from his mouth, held it in his right hand, and traced the length of her clavicle, back and forth, occasionally coming in contact with the beginning of the cut he had done earlier. "You're awfully interested in Yuri, aren't you? No, she's not the one that got away. We're just... close. Used to be."
He traced the knife back to her right shoulder, "You should worry more about yourself, though." He pressed the knife against her skin and dragged it over the path he has traced before in one swiftly motion, letting go once he had reached the other side and flinging it across the room.
Before the clattering stopped, he started thrusting in and out of her, trying to focus on this new feeling and clear his head.

shantishanthi@rocketmail.com (9/19/2010 1:50:51 AM): It was impossible for her to not notice his agitation when she asked further about Yuri, not with the way his hand sped up. She just bit her tongue and determinately ignored her body's reaction to the rough treatment, wondering what would be the best way to get him talking more. She had nothing to lose from triggering his anger at this point - he would probably kill her once he was done if things remained as they were now, anyway - so it was an attempt to get the greatest reaction from him that made her question her words carefully, rather than any fear of retribution from him.

While she was contemplating her next move, he removed his fingers and pulled away. Bijou watched him with a scrutinzing, wary eye, he seemed like he was thinking about something, something that made him scowl faintly as he removed his pants. It had to be Yuri, going on the way he'd acted earlier. She was still on his mind? It was almost laughable that he was so caught up on her, he couldn't even pay attention to the task at hand, but it was something she could use. He loosened her ropes, but not really enough for her to get any room to kick or fight, not that it would do any good with only one limb free. Evidentally he'd gotten things straight enough that he was finally ready for her, so he propped her behind up on a pillow, sneered, and shoved inside her. Her expression clouded with anger very briefly from the penetration  - her rage at being violated by him flaring up again, but then it went back to a passive state, even looking unamused when he began to play over her skin with knife the knife, making vague threats all the while. He should know that he would need more than that to get fear from her. Her question was mostly dodged, the knife was thrown aside and he was thrusting inside her.

She twisted beneath him when he started moving, grabbing at the sheets to hold herself steady and still, finally settling in a position where she could meet his eyes. When she spoke, her voice was a bit breathless and her hands were shaking but she was otherwise controlled.

"I'm just wondering what this woman did to piss you off so badly that you can't even focus on fucking me," she grinned at him, though with the bucking motion of her body and her concentration on not moving, it was more of a grimace. "You're thinking of her and you're mad that you're doing it. Because it's not me you want, it's her, and you can't get that out of your head. You can't even get it up without imagining her." She leaned forward, smiling at him, the expression twisted and mocking. "Why don't you tell me about her? Let it a~ll out. I want to know exactly why you couldn't have her bound and bleeding. Why you have to make do with me. She was too good for you, wasn't she?"

shantishanthi@rocketmail.com (9/19/2010 1:50:51 AM): It was impossible for her to not notice his agitation when she asked further about Yuri, not with the way his hand sped up. She just bit her tongue and determinately ignored her body's reaction to the rough treatment, wondering what would be the best way to get him talking more. She had nothing to lose from triggering his anger at this point - he would probably kill her once he was done if things remained as they were now, anyway - so it was her desire to get the greatest reaction from him that made her question her words carefully, rather than any fear of retribution.

While she was contemplating her next move, he removed his fingers and pulled away. Bijou watched him with a wary eye, he seemed like he was thinking about something, something that made him scowl faintly as he removed his pants. It had to be Yuri, going on the way he'd acted earlier. She was still on his mind? It was almost laughable that he was so caught up on her he couldn't even pay attention to the task at hand, but it was something she could use. He loosened her ropes, but not really enough for her to get any room to kick or fight, not that it would do any good with only one limb free. Evidentally he'd gotten things straight enough that he was finally ready for her, so he propped her behind up on a pillow, sneered, and shoved inside her. Her expression clouded with anger very briefly from the penetration  - her rage at being violated by him flaring up again, but then it went back to a passive state, even looking unamused when he began to play over her skin with knife the knife, making vague threats all the while. He should know that he would need more than that to get fear from her. Her question was mostly dodged, the knife was thrown aside and he was thrusting inside her.

She twisted beneath him when he started moving, grabbing at the sheets to hold herself steady and still, finally settling in a position where she could meet his eyes. When she spoke, her voice was a bit breathless and her hands were shaking but she was otherwise controlled.

"I'm just wondering what this woman did to piss you off so badly that you can't even focus on fucking me," she grinned at him, though with the bucking motion of her body and her concentration on not moving, it was more of a grimace. "You're thinking of her and you're mad that you're doing it. Because it's not me you want, it's her and you can't get that out of your head. You can't even get it up without imagining her." She leaned forward, smiling at him, the expression twisted and mocking. "Why don't you tell me about her? Let it a~ll out. I want to know exactly why you couldn't have her bound and bleeding. Why you have to make do with me. She was too good for you, wasn't she?"

Eva (9/19/2010 3:14:08 AM): He started laughing a bit, but tried to stay focused. She was still trying to get to him? So just laying there trying to stay stiff wasn't enough? What an overachieving bitch, this one.
What was left of his laugh turned into a hoarse whisper, "You know what I like about you?" He buried his face in the hollow of her shoulder for a moment, "How you're trying so hard to get back at me."
He traced his tongue over the bite marks he had inflicted earlier. "I just *love* how much effort you put into it. It matters a lot to you, doesn't it? This useless little fight you're putting up comforts you somehow?" He sank his teeth into her flesh again, his left hand now yanking at her hair so he could get more access to her neck.
His right hand raked over her side, fingernails digging at her opened wounds while his thrusting became a little erratic for a few moments. He released her neck and spat out to the side before snarling at her. "You think have me all figured out, don't you? You think you know what's going on just because we've talked?"
He let go of her hair and traced his hand over her body until he reached her knee, sliding his hand under it. "You want to know why I can't have her here and have to make do with you? Hah," His movements fell back into a specific rhythm, every other word accentuated with a thrust, "I want to know why you're so conceited. What makes you think you're good enough to even replace her?"
He placed his right hand under her other knee as he whispered in her ear, "You're no good. Not special. You're a faceless pause to my lust." He pushed her knees upward as he raised himself over her, a demented grin on his face as he tried to push himself deeper into her, his thrusts now plainly impassioned with the desire-- the *need* to hurt her at least a little more.
He raised his head and let it fall back for a moment, laughter trailing his voice, "The fact that you even *think* that you matter is just... HYSTERICAL!" With an echoing laugh, he brought his head down onto hers in a headbutt.
He hadn't planned it, it gave him an instant headache and even made him a little dizzy, but it didn't keep him from getting back up over her or from continuing his thrusts. "You... might not even hurt the same..."

shantishanthi@rocketmail.com (9/19/2010 5:39:36 AM): He leaned forward and nuzzled into her shoulder for a moment, whispering words. She couldn't make sense of them, only hearing the hoarse sound of his voice as he was pressed there. It sent a chill down her spine, skin crawling beneath his warm breath and tongue, and she shrunk away. She preferred his knife to this, a threat from a rapist rather than something so close to the soft words and touch of a lover. But the man bit into her again and jerked at her hair and that feeling was forgotten quickly.
Bijou hissed through her teeth at the yank, surprised. She dug her nails into her hands and bit her lip, disoriented by the strange rush of emotion that went through her. There was something abou this that made her uneasy, like nothing else he'd done so far, a change in his mood that felt  ominous. Impassioned, he ranted while he bruised and clawed and shoved her - none of them a foreign sensation. Before now, it had even been enjoyable on some level - his fingers pulling at his hair had sent a thrill of arousal through her - but now there was something about his roughness that unnerved her. Why did this feel so familiar? More than that, why did it /scare/ her now?
Her answer was in his expression. Her eyes widened. It was just like before. Like her. He was looking down at her now, all arrogance and control and insanity, so very much like /her/ on the night they met. She went still, staring up him as visions of her flooded her mind, overlaying with the man's demented grin. Exactly the same, all the way down to the way that she couldn't seem to bring herself to move while he had his way with her.
He opened his mouth and Yuri's laughter rang in her ears.
His head cracked against hers and got the scream he wanted. She whipped her head back, vision whiting out briefly from the pain. Snarling with rage, she lunged forward against her restraints with teeth bared to bite at any part of him she could reach, hands and feet lashing about in her attempt to rip and tear and hurt until he was off of her. No, not again, she wasn't going to let that happen again, not with him. Her voice was shrill and she screamed at him without a thought to what she said. "Why do I matter? Why am I good enough? Because I have what you could never get! She's mine!" Driven to hysteria, she was laughing now too, cruel and frantic, her chest heaving as she let herself fall backwards. "Yuri is mine now and you will never have her. And if I'm worthless, if I'm unimportant, a pawn, a stray, but I was able to win her... what does that make you?"


Eva (9/19/2010 7:30:55 AM): He had it. For a short while, he had it. Or *almost* had it. He could've sworn he felt her cringe, hopefully even cower. It didn't last long enough, though. Not long enough to be sure, and certainly not long enough to enjoy. For a fleeting moment, he could feel as if he was truly in control.
That in itself was a triumph; in a way, this woman had put up more of a fight than whatever else he had previously encountered. He enjoyed that challenge, and even the frustrations that came up whenever he couldn't break her. It made everything last longer, and even when he thought he was getting bored of her resistance, something happened that made him want to keep trying.
The way she widened her eyes this time... And that scream! But... that wasn't a scream of terror, was it? It didn't really sound like one. What was that? She was... fighting back now? And that was usually good for him. If she was fighting back, it meant she couldn't hold back anymore, and he had won somehow. He had done something that-- "Whoa!"
He had to pull his face back as fast as he could, the dizziness from a moment before coming back with a vengeance. Still, he laughed as he saw her struggle against her restraints. In his eyes, it only showed how truly powerless she was. Oh, that helped so much now. Seeing someone so difficult now acting like the others... He was close now, so close...
And then he was denied of that. Because now she was talking. She was... lying. This woman, this goddamned harpy was screeching lies now. "Spouting nonsense now, are you?" His laugh pretty much died in his throat midway through her deceitful ramblings, "You've finally lost your mind." His grin contorted into a scowl as he gripped her tightly, the thrusting slowing down.
"Is this your last defense? I didn't think you were above lying, but to sink so low *now*... Are you *that* desperate?" He stopped his movements altogether and just stared at her, as if trying to understand her. What he really wanted was to know... why?
Why was she saying these things now? Why had she shown interest in Yuri? Why had she been so curious? Why did she torment him? Why couldn't he stop thinking about it? Why *her*? He didn't understand.
So he struck her. Because he didn't get it, he struck her. Because he couldn't understand, he struck her again. Because he couldn't make it go away on his own, he hit her again.
He took a handful of her hair and raised her head, lowering his head to look her straight in the eye, words coming out through clenched teeth, "Stop lying. You don't even know her. You have no right to. Take it back."

She didn't flinch at the blows, still deeply entrenched in whatever form of madness had overtaken her. In fact, when each slap rang out through the room it was responded to with more laughter. She didn't even feel them anymore, they were only pathetic attempts to regain control by someone who had victory snatched right from beneath them. Oh yes, she'd definitely won this time. The look of fury on his face in that moment was her prize. She'd hurt him. Even bound and at his mercy, she was able to hurt him, worse than anything he'd done to her. The illusion of him having power fell away and her fear went with it. His vehement denial of the truth enforced that. The way he growled and threatened made her dissolve into a fit of helpless giggling, almost unable to speak from it.
"Not lying."  She grinned at him from a mouth bloodied by a split lip. "What use is lying? You'll kill me either way." Gaze going unfocused, she recited aloud, "Yuri Williamson. 23 years old, born on April 12. Formerly a United States citizen. Unemployed. Enjoys tying people up." Words mechanical, as though she'd been over the information many times before. "Not that you'd know that last one," she added with a malicious giggle. Tilting her head as much as the hand in her hair would allow, she continued with eyes gleaming, "How does it feel, knowing I'm fucking the woman you want? I've seen a part of her you'll never see. Does that make you mad? Make you want to hurt me? Go ahead and hit me again. Hit me HARDER, hurt me MORE. Yuri's just not rough enough. This is what I've needed for a long time."  White rimmed eyes stared deeply into his as she leaned forward some, grinding her hips against him and tightening herself around his cock. "What's the matter? If I'm good enough for Yuri, then I should be good enough for you. Or are you losing heart now that the 'pause to your lust' has a face?"

She was laughing. She was laughing at him. This... woman, she wasn't afraid. She wasn't his victim anymore. Had she ever been? No, she had been. Had been... Something changed. Something now placed her *on top* of him, made her superior. It was his fault. He had slipped somewhere. This... had never happened before. Never.
"You," his voice barely came out as his eyes darted to and fro, intent on at least escaping her. He looked at the space above her head, to the bedside table, to the floor... He failed to control his breathing, now erratic and loud, as he hastily scanned the room for a means to silence her. To finish her. To end her and be done with this crushing experience.
He had been an idiot from the start. The fool, so consumed by his excitement that he ended up walking towards the cliff, and now dangled by its edge, unsure of what to do. His only lifeline-- the only one he could think of, at least-- was laying on the floor where he had thrown it after just making idle threats with it.
Oh, how he'd love to have that knife back. To have it buried in her chest, but only after he'd cut that insolent tongue from her mouth. To carve his name in her heart and *at least* have that, find solace in her death by his hand. But he didn't have it. He couldn't do that. Not now. He had to get the knife in his possession again. But he couldn't leave.
She was holding him there. He was clutching her hair, but she held him back. He was hostage not only in his own house and bed, but in his own game. He had been taken prisoner by her, had walked into a trap and was now a captive in a war he hadn't even seen coming. And he had no one else to blame but himself. It was impossible to blame anyone else for his mistake.
He had slacked, taken this enemy for granted, and now he was paying the price. But he could at least fight back until he was utterly ruined. The knife forgotten, his rage was now building up in him again. He balled his fist, nails digging deep, and he raised it high above his head. He wouldn't punch her; she wanted him to hit harder, he would.
She wanted him to hurt her more... he'd kill her. He'd crush her face so badly, nobody would recognize her. Not that it mattered. He would erase her from existence. But before he could bash his fist down onto her, he heard a low, quick noise. A rattling noise, a second's interlude to his nightmare.
And it all happened too fast for his defeated mind to even think of a way to counter what happened next.
The door behind him swung open and he felt a rather forceful-- and painfully familiar-- presence enter the room. A point on his back was pricked and he felt the coldness of steel against his skin, making him involuntarily stiffen. "Yuri." It was as much of a greeting as he could manage at the moment. He couldn't turn, unless he wanted his heart pierced.
"How long have you been standing there, listening from behind that door?" His eyes downcast, he didn't know where else to look. Under him, that demon lay, mocking him. Behind him, blade pressed against his back, was *her.* How did he get cornered like this? How did he allow himself to be so... utterly destroyed by these two?
"Get off," she commanded in her native tongue. The fact that she was doing so, and being so terse... It made his mind run wild, but he couldn't just lash out. Not with her there now. He slightly tilted his head to her, a grin that threadtened to waver plastered on his face, "I almost did." And he could feel her blade be pressed half an inch more as she almost shouted at him.
"Get off of her. Right now, Dorian." He turned his face away from her, his eyes unfocused. He didn't want to show her that defeated side of him, but he didn't want to look back at that woman again, either. "That'll be difficult, considering where I am and what you have pointed at my back." His voice was surprisingly calm, but his fists were clenched, knuckles ghostly white by now.
 He almost didn't feel when the pointed edge of her sword left his skin, and it took him a while to react. He didn't have to look back at her to know her sword arm was still steadily poised against him; he just had to concentrate on getting out of this wretched woman and calm himself. If he could have a moment, just a few seconds to himself, he could... he'd do *something.*
So he slowly let go of the raven hair, biding his time, before he swiftly rid himself of the last connection their bodies had. "What are you doing here?" He asked as he got off the bed and chanced a look at her face. Her eyes... Just as he had expected, they were locked onto him, her icy gaze all his own. Anyone else might've seen her face as stoic, emotionless, but he knew better.
"Have you finally lost your mind, Dorian?" She continued to use that name, and from that little detail, he knew: she'd kill him where he stood, if she could. He could see it in the way she still held her blade against him, its tip pointed straight at his heart. Would she strike to kill if he made a false move, or would she shift and wound him? He knew her capable of orchestrating both scenarios.
"We can keep asking each other questions, if you want." He was breathing evenly now, looking her in the eye, his usual smirk trying to make a comeback. It failed as the ice in her eyes was redirected to her voice, though.
"I'd rather you got dressed and got out." He was ready to protest but she was faster than him, her mind apparently less crowded, though he had thought her to be in some manner or distress, "I cannot deal with you right now, Adam. So you're going to leave and only come back when I've told you to."
He walked around to get his clothes, ignoring the knife he had craved earlier, and growled at her, "If you can't deal with her-- if you can't do it *properly*-- leave her. Just tell me when your conscience loses its grip on you." Not even trying to hide his anger and disgust, he gathered his things, got dressed as fast as he could and walked out. Once he had left, Yuri let her hand slack, her sword clattering on the floor as he jaw tightened and she involuntarily clenched her teeth. Once she had taken a steadying breath, she took a look at the form on the bed. She wasn't sure if her emotions were taking the best of her, if a look of disdain or anger was evident, but it didn't exactly matter right now. She made her way into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. If Kuroi had been there for as long as she thought and was still breathing, she could wait a moment longer.


She watched hatred overtake him, heard his breathing turn ragged, anticipated the blow from his raised fist. This was it. It wouldn't be a quick death, this one, not if he chose his bare hands over the knife. But at least in her final moments, she could meet his eyes and smile because she had won. Surely this "victim" of his, who humiliated him in this way, would be one he remembered for a long time. The satisfaction meant this death was one she could embrace and so she did, grinning broadly and tilting her face up to meet it.
Behind the man, the door rattled then opened. There was a flash of silver and a human figure behind it. Questioning "who" was pointless - she knew as soon as they rushed in the room, before she even saw their face. Only one person she knew carried a sword that way, moved with that kind of purpose. Her grin fell off her lips and the feeling of triumph she had reveled abated, covered by something very close to dread. In the span of a second, the person was behind the enraged monster, her sword pressed against his back.
"Yuri." The man voiced the thought for her again.
Her appearance meant the question was not who, but why? Though Yuri seemed to acquiesce to her presence now, she hadn't expected her to care this much that she'd save her. It didn't make sense. On the other hand, the man seemed to have expected this, somehow. He didn't even look at her. With his gaze downturned, Bijou could see the defeat in his eyes. She could almost sympathize with him, despite all that had happened. Perhaps she should've been more grateful for her rescue - assuming that was what this was, one could never be sure with her - but seeing his surrender to her so quickly made her feel as though she was stealing her victory. It also begged the question: how was it that this woman ruled them both so completely?
Yuri barked an order in English to him. Though she had very little knowledge of that language, what she had said was quite clear. They exchanged words back and forth for a while. It was difficult to decide who to watch - Yuri remained passive for now, though Bijou wondered if it would last with the way her voice was raised. Perhaps this was the one thing that could finally crack her cool exterior. On the other side, the man reigned himself in for her, tried to keep calm but his body language was a giveaway. His eyes went dull and his hands tightened in her hair. Bijou, unable to catch Yuri's eye or read her, focused her attention on him. He looked as though he was seriously considering risking injury for one last shot at her. But after a long moment, he slowly released her hair and pulled out of her. He stood and they spoke more. Still bound, she didn't have a choice but to listen to them. She picked up a repeated word, "Dorian." His name, perhaps, by where it fell in the sentence. Though he seemed calm - calmer, anyway - she never lowered her blade. Her voice even got colder, issuing another command. "Dorian" gathered his clothes, absolutely dripping venom in his manner and voice as he left.
She was alone with Yuri now. And strange as it might be, she almost felt safer when he was still here.
Yuri looked at her, something unreadable in her expression. Bijou sat up a bit more on the bed, closing her legs as much as the binds would allow. She searched for something for say... asking why she'd been saved was the first question that came to mind, but couldn't get the words out. Not before the woman turned and swept into the bathroom. The bound woman stared at the door behind her with a sinking feeling. Whatever Yuri had felt, looking at her like that, it wasn't good. Had she... disappointed her, letting herself be captured like this? Or perhaps... she'd been listening for some time and she knew what she'd said about their relationship? What was she thinking about now? In the back of her mind, the thought that she had no intention of releasing her from "Dorian" after all formed and it made her go cold. Despite the fact that she had all but welcomed death moments earlier, the thought of this simple rejection and return to the man's hands was sickening.
"Yuri?" Bijou ventured aloud, voice tentative and possibly too quiet to hear with her in the next room. She tried again, a bit louder, needing some response of any kind.
"...Yuri?"