Sex Addiction

Ryou watched from the third story window as the truck pulled up, followed by a police car. They were anticipating trouble, as well they should be. The inmate had supposedly tried to escape several times, causing bodily harm and property damage in his wake. The institution that happened to employ Ryou did not typically take any dangerous inmates; most of the individuals to whom Ryou attended either stared off into space or chatted mildly with inanimate objects. The closest thing to danger that Ryou had ever dealt with was having a few pillows thrown at him when a young lady did not appreciate the talents of the institution’s chef. This new inmate, however, was supposed to be under strict surveillance as he was moved to the institution, and would be secluded in the closest thing that the institution had to a maximum security cell.

Strong measures, Ryou thought, considering the inmate was only a sex addict.

The back doors of the truck opened; two white-suited employees exited, each of them holding tightly the handcuffed arms of who Ryou assumed to be the new inmate. He frowned; he had never seen anyone else besides himself who had white hair. He would have to look up his genetic file sometime.

Glancing at the clock, Ryou realized it was time for Mrs. Namura’s medication; otherwise she began referring to him as Lord Yamato.

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“Since you’re already here late at night, Ryou, we thought you could give him the sleep medication before you leave.”

“I suppose so… but I thought that only the resident physicians were allowed in.”

“It’s only one shot,” the nurse replied. “Besides, at night he’s sufficiently restrained, so you shouldn’t have any trouble.”

That conversation was in the back of Ryou’s mind as he found the marked medication and a new syringe. Inmates that were restrained weren’t so because they were well-behaved, but of course Ryou had nothing to worry about; he wouldn’t have been asked to do this if it weren’t safe.

Right?

Ryou tried to calm himself as he unlocked the first door, feeling it lock automatically behind him. He had given shots a thousand times, he told himself as he unlocked the inner door; find the vein, give the shot and leave. He opened the door and the first thing he saw was a dark shade of garnet.

Obviously having heard him entering, the white-haired inmate was staring at Ryou with an unnervingly steady gaze. It took a moment for Ryou to realize that there was more to the inmate than his eyes, and as he took in the rest of this information he was rather appalled. The inmate was lying on a bed, and did not have much choice in the matter. Cuffs encircled his arms, wrists, torso, waist, knees and ankles, and those were held down to the bed with sturdy straps. Ryou had seen these restraints before, although not in use, but what really surprised him was that the patient was gagged. What appeared to be a black ball was stuffed in his mouth, held there by a strap.

The trapped young man’s gaze did not waver as Ryou cautiously approached the bed. His hair was just as snowy white as Ryou’s, but his eyes had an intense quality that Ryou had never observed in his own. Trying to return to automatic pilot, Ryou filled the syringe, found a suitable vein and smoothly squeezed the liquid into the patient’s bloodstream. He jerked slightly as the needle was removed, making Ryou jump. The garnet eyes were having trouble keeping themselves open; the sedative worked quickly.

Ryou had to make himself leave, which surprised him; he hadn’t exactly been anxious to go in there in the first place. As he shut the outer door and walked down the hall, he found himself pitying the young man. No one at the institution had ever been restrained like that; could he really be that dangerous?

Ryou never got an answer to that question. He was never quite able to figure out which doctor was responsible for the inmate, whose name turned out to be Bakura. The nurses didn’t know what was going on, either. He had broken out of previous institutions, that much Ryou knew; but did that mean that he needed to be gagged when personnel were present? Several days passed and Ryou diligently administered the sedative each night, and each night nothing really changed. Bakura was still restrained, gagged and staring at him with an intensity that nearly made Ryou blush.

Friday night; Ryou was exhausted and everyone else except the sparse staff of night guards had left as quickly as they could. Just one more shot to give. Ryou marked off the rest of the checklist in his hand as he walked down the hall, paperclipping the pages together and stuffing them in his pocket. He went through the ritual of the double doors automatically, medication in hand. Bakura turned to watch him as he usually did. But, as Ryou filled the syringe, a sudden sound nearly made him drop the bottle. He stared at Bakura; the patient made the sound again. It was the first time that Ryou had heard his voice, and even then it was muffled as he tried to talk around the ball in his mouth. Ryou tried to ignore it and pulled the full syringe from the bottle.

“Mmrrnn… mmph… nnngg…” Bakura continued his little vocalizations, staring at Ryou intensely, almost imploringly, all the while. As Ryou went to insert the needle, Bakura actually began to struggle, although he could only move a few inches in the restraints. Ryou felt a tug in his heart; was the inmate afraid? Was he trying to tell him something? Not waiting for his more critical judgment to kick in, Ryou set the needle down and reached over to gently remove the gag.

Bakura opened and closed his mouth a couple times, stretching his jaw, then his lips formed a small smirk.

“Hmph… thanks,” he murmured. Ryou could tell that Bakura’s voice was slightly hoarse but it didn’t matter; it had the most rich, velvety tone that Ryou had ever heard.

“Y-you’re welcome,” Ryou stuttered. Bakura’s smirk widened; Ryou wasn’t sure if that was good or not. Bakura tilted his head, some of his wild white locks falling into his eyes. He looked Ryou up and down, almost predator-like, and Ryou flushed in embarrassment as a bolt of electricity traveled down his spine and hit somewhere between his legs.

“What’s your name?” the smooth voice asked.

“R-Ryou,” his feeble voice replied.

“Hmm… you’re very pretty, Ryou.” For a moment Ryou thought that the heat in his face couldn’t get any worse, but he was wrong. “If I was free I might have to do something to you…”

At that Ryou’s flight mode kicked in and he grabbed the medication and turned to leave, but the voice stopped him.

“Hold on now… you don’t really think I’m that dangerous just because I’m a sex addict, do you?”

Ryou turned and the garnet eyes held him captive.

“Well? Do you think I’m dangerous?”

“I- I don’t know,” Ryou replied honestly.

“I’m certainly not that dangerous when I can’t move,” Bakura went on, shifting slightly in the straps that held him down. “Am I?”

“No… I d-don’t think so…”

“Then come on back. I’ve been bored out of my fucking mind, and I think I’d like you to stay for awhile.” There was no pleading in Bakura’s voice; in fact, the whole thing was like a rather softly administered command. Ryou obeyed.

“You know what those doctors are trying to do?” he murmured, as if telling Ryou a valuable secret. Ryou curbed his inclination to lean closer. “They think if they just make me stop they’ll cure me; won’t want to fuck anymore if I don’t get the chance to.” Bakura rolled his eyes, shifting his position again. His eyes slid back to Ryou. “You don’t think that, do you?”

Ryou shook his head and Bakura grinned lazily. “Mm, that’s what I thought. You’re smarter than they are, aren’t you?” Ryou didn’t say anything, though he felt his cheeks color again.

“You know what that’s like? Having to go all cold turkey?” Ryou shook his head again. “Hmph… fucking torture. That’s the real reason they keep me tied down.” Bakura looked at Ryou slyly. “But you could help me out a little, you know?”

Petrified but intrigued, Ryou listened. “Just one little touch…” Bakura said in his dark velvet voice, raising his hips slightly. Ryou turned bright red.

“Uh… I…”

“Come on, give a helpless prisoner just a little relief. Just this once.” The voice spurred him on; Ryou was captivated by its power, and for a moment it seemed as if his mind had disappeared into some void where there was only that voice and those eyes. When it came back, Ryou realized that there was indeed something very hard between Bakura’s legs, and that his hand was on it.

Ryou flung himself back so hard that he fell off his chair. In a panic, he shoved the gag back into Bakura’s mouth and secured it, grabbed the medication and nearly ran out the door. He spent the walk out of the institution and the entire drive home trying to convince himself that something that utterly mortifying had not just happened.

Bakura, meanwhile, was contentedly biding his time. In his haste, something had fallen from Ryou’s pocket, and Bakura carefully held a simple paperclip, the perfect lock-pick, in his fist.