Blackwater Indiscretions

A/N: This chapter, I'll admit, got a little out of hand. I think I delved too deeply into Bakura's underlying sociopathy. In so doing I've labeled this chapter "disclaimer required". This one ain't for the kiddies. Um...not that kiddies should be reading this in the first place...


Malik slid into the cool interior seat of Bakura’s glossy speed machine, his hands running over the black leather interior. He turned to the white haired teen who sat behind the wheel. “Are you nervous?” he asked.

“Nope,” Bakura replied as he started the car. “You?”

“A little,” Malik replied. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Ryou.”

Bakura chuckled. “Do you believe everything you hear?”

“Even if I hadn’t heard it I’d still know all about you,” the blonde replied.

“Oh really? What makes you say that?”

“I’ve seen Ryou after he spends the weekend at your house. You know, the first time I saw him all bandaged up I almost came after you.”

Bakura’s laughter could be heard from the sidewalk. “What stopped you?”

Malik stared straight ahead. “Curiosity,” he admitted.

“Curiosity?” the older teen repeated. “What do you mean?”

“You’re really into that shit?”

Bakura turned the car onto his street. “Yeah.”

“What about Ryou? Does he…like it?”

“He hasn’t complained.”

“But how do you do it? Doesn’t it hurt?”

“That’s kind of the point, Malik. Quit bullshitting me, what’s on your mind?”

Malik unbuckled his seat belt as the car came to a stop in the driveway. “I’m just…curious.”

“About what exactly?” Bakura turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car before Malik could respond. He led the way into the house and kicked off his shoes, collapsing in the recliner.

Malik pulled off his jacket and sat on the arm of the older teen’s chair. “What kind of stuff do you do?”

Bakura raised an eyebrow. “Do you want a detailed account of my sex life?”

“Yes,” Malik replied boldly. “I think I have a right to know what it is I’m getting myself into.”

“If you’re so worried about my preferences and performance then why’d you agree to this in the first place?”

“I didn’t say I was worried,” Malik corrected. “Besides, Marik’s twice the psycho you are and I handle him just fine.”

That struck a chord in Bakura. “You’re a cocky little fuck, aren’t you?”

Malik almost winced at the deadly tone. Almost. “Of the two of us, I think you’re the one who is cocky. I never claimed to be the Sex God. In my opinion if you have to announce it you haven’t got it.”

“Oh, I’ve got it,” Bakura replied, his voice low and feral. “But can you handle it?”

The younger teen shifted on the padded chair arm. “Yes,” he replied, hoping that Bakura didn’t pick up on the quiver that entered his voice.

The pale teen rose from his seated position slowly and purposefully. “Oh?” he questioned. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an intricately carved butterfly knife. With an impressive flick of his wrist it was open and pressing against Malik’s cheek. “Care to change your position?”

Malik could feel the cool sharpness of the blade digging into his skin. Looking into Bakura’s eyes, he began to realize that the older boy wasn’t joking, wasn’t making small talk. He was staring into the eyes of a cobra ready to strike. And the more terrified his mind, the more aroused his body became. He would have chuckled under any other circumstances.

Truthfully, he’d spent many a night pouring over fetish websites on the internet, beating off to video streams depicting scenarios frighteningly close to this one. He’d never told Marik of his fantasies due to his boyfriend’s unstable nature. Any encounter they shared that involved a weapon he feared would take a turn for the worst. Marik just didn’t have the self-restraint.

But Bakura on the other hand radiated control. Both over himself and the situation. “Is that all you’ve got?” he replied brazenly.

“That was your last warning,” Bakura stated flatly. He took two steps back and Malik let out a shaky breath. His relief however was short-lived. With lightning fast reflexes and predatory grace, the pale teen leaned forward and struck.

A fraction of a second later Malik was on his feet, one hand pressed to the cut in his cheek. “What the fuck, Bakura?” he exclaimed.

A smug look of satisfaction graced the older boy’s face and closed the knife with the same precision he’d shown before, tucking it back into his pocket. He stepped forward, well within the boundaries of Malik’s personal space. “Don’t fucking doubt me again,” he said. When Malik didn’t respond he grasped the teen’s wrist and pulled his bloodied hand down before leaning forward and running his tongue along the length of the wound.

A low hiss escaped through Malik’s teeth and his hands shot out, grasping handfuls of Bakura’s shirt. He was so hard it hurt. “Kura…shit…”

The older boy’s hand traveled up Malik’s back and tangled in his blonde hair before forming a fist and using the locks to yank his head back violently. “Apologize,” he commanded.

The reply was instantaneous. “I’m sorry.”

“Prove it.”

Malik stared into the cold, dark eyes. “How?” he managed.

“Suck my cock.”

The candid statement sent shock waves directly to his groin. As soon as his hair was released, Malik sank to his knees, both out of obligation to do Bakura’s bidding and the fact that they weren’t offering much support to start with. He glanced up at his overseer only to avert his gaze from the icy stare that greeted him. “Bakura,” he pleaded, unsure of what to do and afraid of what to expect.

“I’m not going to say it again,” Bakura growled in response.

With shaking hands, Malik carefully undid Bakura’s pants and pulled out his hardened member, licking the tip tentatively before fully sheathing its length in his mouth and throat, the albino hairs at its base tickling his nose. He heard the pale teen’s moan of approval and tightened his lips, forming a seal around Bakura’s width before applying gentle suction and contracting the muscles in his neck.

“Fucking hell, Malik, how’d you become such a good cock sucking bitch?” Bakura ground out, his hands coming to rest on the back of the teen’s head, urging him on.

Malik’s pride insisted that he be offended by the crude remark, regardless of its complementary insinuation, but the increasingly painful bulge trapped beneath the sweltering fabric of his pants told him otherwise. He was unable to pose a verbal response so instead increased his assault on the older teen’s member.

Whatever Marik had taught the teen about the ins and outs of man-pleasing had been well worth the effort. Bakura was forced to grasp Malik’s hair and relieve him of his task before the main event was spoiled by adolescent impatience. “Get undressed,” he demanded, pushing the teen toward the bedroom.

Malik struggled to regain his footing before pulling off his uniform jacket as he passed through the threshold into the dimly lit bedroom. In all the time he’d known Bakura he’d never seen where the older boy slept. To the untrained eye it would appear a normal room. But the fetishist in Malik saw the subtle changes and upgrades. The sturdy iron four-post bed frame for example. Not to mention the eyebolts anchored to the ceiling and the back wall, cleverly painted the same eggshell white as the walls in an attempt to hide their presence.

The lethal voice whispering in his ear snapped him back to attention.

“I don’t like repeating myself.”

His trembling hands fumbled with the button of his trousers, carefully avoiding brushing his fingers against his straining member. Finally the signals his brain was trying to send to his hands were received and he stepped out of the blue atrocity. He glanced at Bakura, who perched on the edge of the bed, watching him with all the assessment one would expect at a livestock auction.

Malik was a fairly egocentric teen. He was attractive and he knew it. But under that intense scrutiny he could feel the blush creep over his features and he had to fight to keep from covering himself with the shirt he’d just taken off. Sure he was used to being stared at. If people weren’t openly gawking at him they were watching him distastefully as he groped with Marik. But this was different. There was something in Bakura’s eyes that he couldn’t quite read, a desire that he’d not seen directed at him before.

The bronzed teen coughed uncertainly. “Um, socks too?”

Bakura nodded, never removing his eyes from the vast expanse of bare skin that had been revealed. He’d not expected Malik to submit so willingly. In truth he’d been looking forward to beating it into him.

Malik tugged off his socks and waited with downcast eyes for the next demand that he was sure was on the way. He’d never felt so exposed.

Bakura stood and crossed the room to the antique armoire. He opened the cabinet and pulled out several items, tossing them onto the bed before moving to the nightstand and taking out an obscenely large bottle of lubricant.

Malik’s eyes widened at the assortment of objects strewn across the comforter. “Um, Bakura…”

Bakura looked up. “Yes?”

“I…I don’t know about this…”

An amused smirk made its home on the older boy’s face. “There’s something you need to understand here, Malik,” he explained. “I’m not giving you a choice.”

A spark of his old self returned. “You can’t force me to do anything,” he replied hotly.

Bakura’s cool composure didn’t falter. “I think you’ll find that I can.”

Malik blinked. He didn’t doubt for a second that Bakura could carry out his threat. “You’ll rape me then?”

“If needs be. But to look at you I don’t think you’d be unwilling.”

Malik blushed furiously and tried to will away his erection. It was a losing battle. He’d never been so turned on in his life.

Bakura straightened his shoulders and stalked up to Malik, their noses almost touching. “Are you denying me?” he asked, his voice oozing sexual dominance.

Malik looked up at him for a moment before lowering his eyes. “No,” he whispered finally.

“I didn’t think so.” He grabbed the trembling teen’s wrist and jerked him forward, one foot coming out and efficiently tripping his prey, causing him to fall face first onto the bed. He quickly shed the rest of his clothes before speaking again. “There is only one rule,” he stated. “Any request I make you will comply with immediately. Understood?”

“Yes,” Malik replied, his face inches away from an impossibly huge vibrator.

“Slide up to the middle of the bed and lay on your back.”

Malik carefully rose onto his hands and knees and crawled to the center before tentatively rolling onto his back. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore Bakura’s smug gaze.

The pale teen knelt on the bed next to Malik, one hand resting on the bronzed chest, fingers strumming over one raised nipple. He leaned down and slanted his warm lips against Malik’s uncharacteristically dry ones, his tongue demanding entrance that the other quickly granted.

Malik moaned against the incomprehensible heat that flowed from Bakura’s obviously experienced mouth. His mind, emotions, and senses switched into overdrive and before he could stop himself one arm snaked around the older boy’s waist, an unconscious signal of acceptance and approval.

Several moments later Bakura pulled back, allowing his companion to catch his breath. He sat back and shifted position, parting Malik’s legs and taking up residency between them. “Plant your feet on the bed,” he instructed. His smirk returned as Malik immediately did so. He stretched his legs out beneath the teen’s raised knees and picked up the bottle of lubricant, opening the lid. “Hand me a pillow.”

Malik reached up blindly and grasped one of the many, handing it to Bakura. On further instruction he lifted his hips and allowed the pale teen to slide the pillow beneath him, placing him in a very compromising position.

Bakura held the bottle several inches from Malik’s skin before tilting it, watching the clear stream fall, coating the teen’s straining erection and causing him to jump at the sudden cool contact. Desire flickered in Bakura’s eyes and moved his arm, drizzling the lubricant over Malik’s balls, watching it stream over the creased skin before traveling downward between the cleft of his buttocks and pooling on the dark fabric of the pillowcase.

Malik hissed, his cock jumping at the almost tickling sensations. “Bakura,” he moaned wantonly.

“I know, Malik,” Bakura replied, his voice deep with arousal. He dipped his fingers in the puddle before it soaked into the fabric completely, coating them liberally before quickly but carefully inserting two into Malik’s impossible tightness.

“Oh gods, Kura,” the teen cried, his body struggling to accommodate the sudden invasion. He bit his lip, trying to ignore the burning sensation. One hand moved to grasp his erection but Bakura swatted it away just before stabbing a third finger inside him.

“Put your hands above your head,” the older boy instructed.

Malik did as requested, his hands desperately grasping the comforter. “Kura…fucking hell, I can’t…please…” He bucked his hips, causing Bakura’s fingers to brush against his prostate, stars exploding behind his eyes.

“Oh fuck no you don’t,” Bakura growled, his free hand darting out to clamp onto the base of Malik’s cock, squeezing roughly, effectively staving off his release.

Malik’s eyes flew open and he gasped audibly. “No,” he cried out. “Bakura, please!” He felt his cock grow impossibly larger, a dull ache beginning to form in his balls.

“I don’t think so,” Bakura replied. “You’ve done nothing to earn it.” He extracted his fingers from Malik’s trembling cavern and reached out behind him.

The younger teen whimpered at the loss of contact, his head falling back onto the bed. After a moment he felt Bakura’s hands move over his cock and nodded rapidly in assent before feeling the sudden tightening at its base. “What the hell…?” He lifted his torso and his lavender eyes widened to see the black cock ring imprisoning his member. He raised pleading eyes to Bakura.

The action was in vain. Bakura focused instead on returning his fingers to their previous task, pressing into Malik’s body and enjoying the moan that filled the silence. His other hand grasped hold of his own cock, pumping slowly and deliberately.

Malik felt as though his groin was going to explode. The dull ache had turned into an acute pain that traveled into his stomach. His mind could focus only on the need for release as Bakura added a fourth finger, stabbing the sensitive bundle of nerves deep within repeatedly. “Bakura, please…I can’t fucking…I mean…I don’t know….”

The unintelligible ramblings earned no sympathy, only a smile. Bakura brought the assault to a close and instead picked up a large red anal plug. Once properly lubricated, he pressed the tip against Malik’s entrance. “I’m going to hold this steady,” he said. “It’s up to you to impale yourself on it.”

“Oh fuck, Kura,” Malik cried out. As if it wasn’t bad enough that the older teen was driving him toward an unattainable completion now he wanted Malik to inflict similar torment on himself. With resigned determination he lifted his hips and pressed down onto the smooth object, the action bringing immediately relief to the empty feeling he’d been left with when Bakura had removed his fingers.

“Good, Malik,” Bakura praised, his cock twitching at the sight of the teen’s puckered flesh stretching to accommodate the invader.

Malik reached up and pressed his palms against the headboard, using it as leverage to further spear himself on the item. With a mighty push of his arms he slid over the thickest part of the plug and felt the rest slide into his body effortlessly. He tried to relax his hips onto the pillow but that only resulted in the impossible girth inside of him to press against his prostate.

Bakura closed his eyes for a moment, trying to reign in his arousal. Seeing Malik take the worst that the toy had to offer with such minimal effort had almost caused him to come on the spot. A moment passed before he reached out and took hold of the teen’s slick erection, squeezing the tip gently. He slid back, regaining use of his legs before covering Malik’s body with his own, grinding his cock into Malik’s.

Malik moaned at the contact, his eyes rolling back. “Bakura, please,” he pleaded. “I can’t fucking wait any more.”

Bakura nodded knowingly. “Hurt?”

“Yes,” Malik replied between mewls of pained pleasure.

“Good.” He rolled to the side and sat up carefully. “Sit up and turn around,” he instructed.

Malik took his time, every movement sending another blast of sweet torment through his quivering body. “Kura…”

Bakura plucked two long leather straps from the pile and attached one to each of Malik’s wrists via the cuffs that made up one end of each. He then stood up and looped the other ends to the two hooks above them. The straps hung about four feet from one another.

Malik’s arms were suspended about a foot above his shoulders and he was forced to rise onto his knees to accommodate the length of his bonds. He jumped slightly when he felt Bakura take hold of the anal plug, wriggling it inside him. “Oh fucking yes,” he moaned. Through the sexual haze he was visited by one clear thought. At that exact moment he was right in the middle of the very thing he’d never dared dream of experiencing. Any and all reservation left him and his head fell back, his eyes trained on the hooks holding him in place.

Bakura could sense the change in his boy and it only encouraged him more. He lifted his pants from the floor and pulled the knife from the back pocket.

Malik moaned at the first touch of cool steel against his chest. All of his trust was placed in the being before him and it showed in the way he didn’t flinch or lift his head in question. “Gods, yes…do it, Kura.”

Bakura growled in response, a low rumbling in the back of his throat. He applied pressure and slowly drew the razor sharp blade down the boy’s chest, about five inches from his left nipple, watching with lust filled eyes as the skin parted, making way for the thick crimson river that oozed forth. He dipped his head down to taste the coppery essence before leaning back and making four more incisions, forming a pattern pleasing to him.

Malik couldn’t remember ever feeling such a high. He knew that his body should be feeling pain but he wasn’t able to grasp the concept. All that remained in his head was the very-real desire to be everything that Bakura wanted. He let his legs relax, relying fully on his bonds to hold him upright, morbidly relishing in the feeling of his arms stretching beyond their means and the bruises forming on his wrists.

Bakura felt the reign of his control beginning to slip and he closed the knife, tossing it aside to avoid temptation. He reminded himself that this was Malik, not Ryou. Ryou was used to his sinister cravings, this boy was not. He brought his bloodied lips to Malik’s throat and nipped at the straining flesh. “I’m going to fuck you, Malik,” he forewarned.

Malik finally raised his head, meeting the older teen’s eyes with his own half opened ones. “Please,” he whispered.

Bakura retrieved the bottle of lubricant and gingerly coated his member, applying as little pressure as possible to highly sensitive flesh. “Push the toy out,” he instructed.

Malik immediately complied, the humiliation of expelling the object in front of Bakura only adding to his skyrocketing arousal. He moaned as he was stretched to allow the largest point to pass, immediately missing the sensation of fulfillment its absence left upon disappearing.

Bakura brushed the item aside and scooted into place behind Malik, noting with satisfaction that the teen was at the precise height needed to fuck him senseless. He grasped Malik’s hip in one hand and his own cock in the other, guiding it to the teen’s entrance.

Malik felt the tip brush against him and pushed back wantonly. “Yes, Kura, please…fuck me hard.”

Bakura pressed forward with little regard for his captive’s safety, the need to fully sheath himself in the slick warmth completely overriding anything else. He allowed a moment to enjoy the sensation of Malik’s inner walls contracting around him before he wrapped one arm around the teen’s waist, using it for leverage as he set an impossibly brutal pace, pulling back and slamming home as hard as he was able.

Malik now relied fully on the bonds to keep him upright as he spread his arms and leaned forward, allowing for easier access and deeper penetration. Moans, gasps, and guttural screams were torn from his lips as Bakura savagely claimed him. His eyes were open and trained on the droplets of blood falling from his chest onto the comforter in sporadic patterns. “Kura…gods, yes…harder, please…hurt me…”

Another in a series of feral growls emanated from Bakura’s lips and he raised his other hand, letting it come to rest at the base of Malik’s neck. “You want pain?” he asked.

“Please…”

Bakura bit down on Malik’s shoulder hard, breaking the skin as his hand closed around the tanned throat, effectively cutting off both the resulting scream and the teen’s air intake. The warm liquid pooled in his mouth and he thrust even harder into Malik’s willing body.

Malik’s lips parted as he struggled for air, his state of excitement reaching epic proportions. He jerked at his bindings, feeling each and every one of the older teen’s fingers as it dug into the sensitive skin surrounding his neck.

Bakura released his hold on Malik’s waist and reached down, releasing the catch on the cock ring before grasping the boy’s erection and pumping it furiously.

The reaction was instantaneous. Malik’s cock exploded with all of the pent up arousal of the encounter and he shot load after load of come on to the comforter, mixing with the pools of cooling blood.

With an animalistic yell Bakura let go of his restraint and came deep within Malik’s body, feeling every twitch and contraction of the teen’s orgasm mingle with his own. He released his death grip on Malik’s throat and thrust one last time into the searing cavern before pulling out slowly. He took a moment to compose himself before wrapping an arm around Malik and using the other to release the catches on the cuffs. As expected, the young teen collapsed, held up by Bakura’s strength alone.

Malik fell back into Bakura’s strong embrace and burst into tears. He’d never come so hard in all his life. The barrage of emotions the encounter had awakened came crashing in all at once and he had to struggle to breath through the force of his sobs.

Bakura pulled the teen tight against his chest, whispering soothing words into his ear. He’d been prepared for this reaction.



Nearly forty minutes later Malik stepped into the bathroom and froze when he saw his reflection in the mirror. The bruises on his neck and wrists as well as the cut on his cheek went unnoticed. It was the pattern on his chest that caused his eyes to widen, his knees to wobble, and his cock to return to attention.

Five cuts came together to form a letter. B for Bakura.

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The polls are now open. Who will take the lead? Marik or Bakura? Cast your votes! The poll will continue throughout the fic until we reach the end where I'll add 'em all up! Thanks to all my reviewers! You all kick ass!

PS: Don't own shit