Last revised: 12/17/99
Last modified: 03/15/00
*** WARNING: alternative-reality, yaoi, semi-darkfic
*** violence, torture
*** (potential lemon in future parts)
Here I go again.... ^_^; This part has some unmitigated sadism and nastiness, so be warned!
It'll be interesting to know whether Zechs happens to wear a certain piece of neck jewelry, too.... <lecherous giggle>
A Gundam Wing fanfic by Madamhydra
Short Disclaimer: (Full Disclaimers at the end)
Gundam Wing is copyright of its respective creators and all distributors of their work and used without permission.
There's a red fox torn by a huntsman's pack
That's my soul up there
There's a black winged gull with a broken back
That's my soul up there
There's a little black spot on the sun today
It's the same old thing as yesterday
I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain
-- "King of Pain" by The Police
By the time Wufei got his thoughts back into some semblance of order, he and Treize were some distance away from the nightclub. He tried to free himself unobtrusively of the general's grip and failed. Before he could resort to more obvious methods, Treize murmured, "People are watching. You wouldn't want to blow your cover, would you?"
Wufei subsided with a low growl of annoyance and allowed the other man to lead him to the elevators. As they waited, he muttered, "What are you up to, Treize? And where are you taking me?"
"I'm trying to keep your precious hide in one piece." He firmly nudged Wufei into the waiting elevator car. "And we're going to my suite to do something about that bare neck of yours."
The Chinese pilot's eyes widened in outrage, but restrained from doing anything else because of the elevator's security camera. With a sullen expression on his face, he allowed Treize to take him to the penthouse level where the most expensive and exclusive guest suites were located.
When Treize escorted Wufei through the front door of his suite, Lady Une glanced up in surprise.
"Une, is the sweep done?" he asked bluntly.
She gave Wufei a suspicious look, but replied, "Yes sir. The entire suite is clean. No surveillance or bugs detected."
"Excellent. If you would be so kind to leave us alone, this young man and I have some private matters to discuss. I'll call if I need you."
"Of course." With those words and another hard look at Wufei, Lady Une saluted and left the room.
Wufei instantly twisted free and glared at Treize.
"Now what the hell do you think you're doing? And why are you babbling about my neck, of all things!?"
Treize poured himself a drink and said calmly, "You still do not get it, do you, my little dragon?"
"Don't call me that!" Wufei growled.
"Around here, that bare neck of yours tells people -- the wrong people -- that you're available."
"Don't be a fool, Wufei. You know what sort of place Roissy is. Most people come here for only one reason -- some sort of sexual gratification. Everyone who meets you assumes that you will be sexually willing and available, no matter how much you protest. The only question is what type of sexual behavior turns you on."
A distinct flush appeared in Wufei's cheeks as he snapped, "Of course I know that! That still doesn't explain your comment about my neck, Treize, nor does it explain why it appears to be a problem!"
The general sighed. "Normally, it wouldn't be a problem, even in a place like this. I have every confidence that you'd be able to handle most advances... adequately, if not with the greatest skill or tact. However, the situation are *not* normal. For some unknown reason, an abnormal number of hardcore sadists are here at Roissy."
Wufei glared at Treize. "Am I supposed to find that strange?" he retorted.
"I'm sure you consider many of the Meat Market's customers to be decadent, bizarre, and perverse, but trust me when I tell you that they're nothing compared to people like Crawford and Lady Devereaux. You heard what Crawford said -- most of the visitors to Roissy are weekend warriors, there to play consensual sex games and nothing more."
Treize sipped his drink and said thoughtfully. "Both the serious dominants and the hardcore sadists generally look down on these dabblers, so I'm rather surprised to see someone like Veronica Devereaux prowling the nightclubs. It isn't her usual sort of hunting ground."
"Both the dominants and sadists? Like there's a difference?" the Shenlong pilot muttered sarcastically.
"Very much so. While dominants enjoy control and power over submissives, most are not interested in coercing people into such a relationship. They may hurt, they may inflict pain, but they generally do not harm. A subtle, but important distinction."
Treize leaned forward and said with quiet emphasis, "But the hardcore sadists like Crawford and Devereaux are very different. They don't really care whether their playthings consent or not, and they tend to be very rough on their toys. Sometimes they break them permanently. Unfortunately, it seems that you've attracted Devereaux's interest. And that's a dangerous thing, little dragon."
"What did I do!? I simply ran into her by accident!" the teenager sputtered furiously.
The general shook his head ruefully. "Oh Wufei, you have no idea how eye-catching you are. But if you could view yourself from their eyes, you'd see a beautiful, sulky schoolboy with an ass that positively begs to be beaten. Of course you attracted Devereaux's attention. Do you really think that it was just a coincidence that she was standing directly behind you when you had your little encounter with that rather muscular biker blond?"
Wufei gave Treize a decidedly suspicious look. "General, you seem to know an inordinate amount about this...," his lips thinned in distaste, "...this sexual subculture."
Treize's lips quirked upward into a faint smile. "Alas, I must confess that I was rather wild in my youth."
The general rose to his feet, then walked into his bedroom. Wufei heard the sound of a drawer opening, then closing. A few seconds later, Treize returned with something in his hand. As the pilot watched him curiously, the general seemed to hesitate an instant before allowing the thin shimmering chain to dangle from his fingers. At the end of the chain hung a small pendent.
"Here. Wear it, at least while you're here."
Wufei was about to angrily refuse, but something in Treize's expression made the teenager ask, "What is it? And why?"
The general tossed the chain at Wufei who automatically caught it. The chain was superbly made, with an elegant and distinctive pattern of silver and gold links. On closer examination, the teenager realized that the pendant was actually a small padlock.
"It's a basically a slave collar." Seeing that Wufei's temper was about to erupt, Treize hastily added, "Because when they see it, people will know that you're 'taken'. And more importantly, it will give you some measure of protection from Lady Devereaux and her kind while you carry out whatever mission you have."
Treize sighed and said, "Because that collar will mark you as my property, at least for the moment. Devereaux doesn't like me, but she respects my position and my standing. Etiquette and caution prevents her and her associates from tampering with another dominant's property without explicit permission. And I'm known for not sharing my toys."
Wufei's fist clenched over the chain. "Then any damn necklace will do. I don't need your personal protection...."
"Sorry, but I think you do, little dragon. Devereaux wants you and wants you badly, so you're going to need to belong to someone influential enough to make her think twice about meddling with you." Treize gave Wufei a somber look. "You could ask your friend with the braid to stand in as your 'owner' -- I'm sure that Devereaux would be reluctant to cross *him* -- but unless your friend is the best actor I've ever seen, you just might be leaping from the frying pan into the fire."
Wufei had a horrible sinking feeling that Treize might be right about Duo.
The general made an exasperated gesture. "Do what you like, Wufei. However, let me assure that as soon as you appear without that chain around your neck, Devereaux and the others will be on you like wolves on a newborn fawn. And then what will happen to your precious mission? If that lock bothers you, I'm sure that someone with your skills can pick it open, so let me assure you that you can take that damn chain off anytime you feel like it!"
The teenager took a deep breath and told himself that the neck chain didn't mean a thing. It was just a disguise. That was all. The mission came first, right? Wufei could have asked Treize why he just *happened* to have a slave collar lying around... but he didn't. Slowly he slipped the chain around his throat, but found himself fumbling with the small lock intended to hold the collar closed.
Treize watched the teenager for a moment, then quietly stepped forward to slip the ends of the chain onto the lock. With his hands lightly brushing Wufei's throat, he felt the teenager swallow hard as the lock snapped shut.
As the teenager stared mutely at the floor, the general stepped back to take a good look. The small lock -- discretely designed to look like an ordinary pendant or charm to the casual observer -- nestled neatly in the hollow of Wufei's throat, just as he imagined it would.
"And now that's done, little dragon, try to do me the courtesy of
not getting caught, hm?"
Relena stood just inside the entrance of the Meat Market and futilely tried to pull down the hem of her outrageously short miniskirt. Well, it felt outrageously short to *her*. She shouted over the pounding music, "Dorothy, are you sure this is the appropriate thing to wear!?"
"Of course I'm sure. Just take a look around!"
Relena was forced to admit that compared to the rest of the crowd, her and Dorothy's clothes were on the conservative side. Dorothy was dressed in a body-hugging electric blue dress that matched her eyes. Just like Relena's dress, its hem line ended just below her crotch. The dress's halter top front was opaque watered silk, while glittery fishnet covered her shoulders, back, and the full length of her arms.
Nevertheless, Relena still felt horribly exposed in her sleeveless, strapless gold lamé dress. It wasn't snug like Dorothy's outfit, but the feel of the heavy, rippling metallic fabric brushing her bare skin was... strange. The only thing that kept her from feeling totally naked was the thin, transluscent gold wrap around her bare shoulders.
"Now what!?" Relena shouted in Dorothy's ear.
"Head for the bar and take a look around!"
They worked their way through the mob -- in actuality, Dorothy ended up dragging Relena behind her as she did all the work of pushing, shoving, and elbowing her way through the crowd.
Dorothy's aggressive maneuvering soon landed them a seat at the bar. When the bartender asked for their orders, Dorothy politely requested some suggestions.
As the other girl chatted with the helpful bartender, Relena was steadily growing more and more wide-eyed as she looked around the nightclub. Through the swirl of smoke and the glare of the strobe lights, Relena thought she caught a glimpse of... Heero? She shook her head sharply.
(Impossible! I'd never find him in a sordid, dirty place like this.) It was probably just her imagination. For once, she was actually relieved that he wasn't around. (God, I'd be so embarrassed if he saw me dressed like this. I look like a total harlot!) She couldn't keep herself from shuddering.
"Your order, Miss?"
Relena jerked around to stare at the bartender who, after asking for the fourth time, was waiting not so patiently for her order.
"Uh... uh...." Relena glanced around wildly, then pointed rather haphazardly at a smoking pinkish concoction that a tattooed brunette was sipping. "I'll have that!"
The bartender gave her a dubious look. "Are you sure you know what you're getting into?"
Relena's back stiffened and she snapped irritably, "You wanted my order and I gave it to you!"
"All right, all right," the bartender said with a shrug. He and Dorothy exchanged significant looks, then he headed off to fetch Relena's drink.
When the fuming goblet of pink liquid arrived, Relena almost lost her nerve, but when she saw the faintly mocking grin on the bartender's face, she pursed her lips in annoyance and took a big gulp. She braced herself for the worst, but except for a slight burn going down her throat, it seemed... well, harmless enough. Actually, the drink tasted quite good. It was light and fruity, with just a bit of tartness to give it bite. She giggled softly and took another big gulp.
As for Dorothy, she was drinking something purple with thick green swirls. She smiled innocently at Relena and said, "How is it?"
"Oh... it's fine." She squinted at the thick syrupy liquid clinging to the bottom of the goblet. "What's that?"
Dorothy murmured, "Oh, I imagine that's supposed to be the good part."
A tentative sip told Relena that the syrup was even tastier than the other part of the drink. She tossed the remainder back in a single chug and demanded another one.
And by the time Relena Peacecraft was halfway through her second Pink Pussy Zinger, she was feeling very, *very* good... and there was a strange, yet pleasantly throbby feeling somewhere below her stomach.
Both Quatre and Heero missed the spectacle of Duo's arrival. After delivering his warning to the Arab pilot, Heero disappeared into the crowd on some unknown errand. Quatre, finding himself alone again and unable to locate Trowa in the crowded nightclub, decided to do one last sweep through the main room before calling it quits and retreating to the safety of his room.
Crawford wasted no time introducing Duo to several of his closer associates. The Deathscythe pilot was in the middle of exchanging polite greeting with Lady Devereaux when a slurred, petulant young male voice said, "You've got to be kidding me! No way this shrimp can be a top!"
A short, heavily built middle-aged man whom Crawford had introduced as Santo Ruderigo scowled thunderously at the speaker, a slim man in his early twenties, and growled, "Boy, you're making a flaming embarrassment of yourself."
The drunken young man turned to Ruderigo and complained, "And how come he gets invited to one of Crawford's private parties, Dad, when you won't even let me come along?"
Lady Devereaux sneered and said icily, "Perhaps because he has manners, talent, skill, style, AND looks?"
Duo eyed the young man with the air of a buyer examining a piece of incredibly shoddy merchandise, then he glanced inquiringly at Ruderigo.
"My son, sorry to say. William's his name," the older Ruderigo said sourly.
Ruderigo's son crowded close to Duo, trying to use his superior height to intimidate the teenager, then reached out and contemptuously hooked his fingers around the discrete black leather collar around Duo's throat.
"Real doms don't wear that sort of shit." he slurred, giving the collar a few sharp jerks.
"Is that so?" Duo replied with an innocent little smile.
The teenager's mild response made William even more bolder. With a nasty smirk, he said, "Yeah. Only pets wear collars! See, you've even got a frigging leash!" He grabbed a hold of Duo's long braid and gave it a sharp yank. "You might have fooled those old guys with your leather and fancy looks, but you can't fool me. Don't you know your proper place, or am I going to have to show you?" He snatched the riding crop from Duo's hand and flicked it threateningly in the pilot's face.
Instead of responding to William's drunken taunts, Duo glanced over at the visibly irritated Ruderigo and said politely, "With your permission...?"
The older man paused a moment, looked thoughtful, then slowly grinned.
"Why, certainly," Ruderigo drawled. "It's about time something was done."
Crawford smoothly said, "Why don't we continue this matter in the Chambres?"
William exhaled boozy fumes into Duo's face as he laughed. "You're in for it now, pretty boy. Do you know what goes on in the Chambres? That's where naughty boys get punished. How much pain do you think you can handle?"
Duo whispered, "Quite a lot...."
"Ooohhh, you're really hungry for it, aren't you, braid boy?"
The Deathscythe pilot bit his lower lip and looked away.
William laughed and shoved Duo toward an imposing leather covered door at the rear of the main nightclub. Beyond the doorway, at the end of a short hall, there was a room decorated in the most ostentatious old Victorian style and equipped with all the gear imaginable for bondage and punishment. Scattered around the chamber were sturdy wooden frames for holding people in various positions of helplessness, while racks of flogging instruments and restraints lined the walls. As Duo and William walked to the center of the room, Crawford, Lady Devereaux, and Ruderigo moved off to the side and settled down on strategically placed armchairs and sofas to watch events unfold with cruel, critical eyes.
William reached out to grab the teenager's arm, but Duo acted first with a swift and brutal strike to the man's solar plexus. As William staggered, unable to breath or even think, the teenager gracefully spun and lashed out with a booted foot that caught Ruderigo's son across the buttock and knocked him onto a conveniently placed X-frame. As William continued to gasp and wheeze, Duo calmly and efficiently fastened the young man's limbs to the frame, trapping him in a spread-eagle position.
When he managed to catch his breath, William began to thrash and yell furiously.
"You little son-of-a-bitch! How dare you pull sort of shit on me! I'll...!"
Blood abruptly drained from William's face when he heard the soft, but unmistakable 'shnick' of a switchblade opening.
"H-H-Hey! This isn't funny any more! Let me down from here!" Goosebumps crawled across William's body as Duo removed all his clothes with a few efficient slices.
"God damn it! Dad, make him stop! SHIT!"
Ruderigo merely sat back in his chair and sank down in a comfortable slouch, nursing his brandy snifter.
As William alternately threatened and pleaded, Duo walked over to a wall rack of implements, then calmly made his selection.
The vicious whish of the thin bamboo cane slicing through air cut William's babbling short.
In a crisp voice, Duo said, "Five for the rudeness. Five for touching my person without permission. Ten for touching the braid. And another ten for yanking on it."
"Oh shit no man not that come on please it was just a damn joke okay OWWWWW!!!!"
The cane whistled and landed neatly across William's buttocks, raising a long red welt. After a second, little beads of blood welled up from the raised flesh.
Duo smiled and struck again. And again. And again.
By the eighth blow, William wailed, "STOP IT!!! I can't take any more of this fuckin' shit!"
In low, menacing tones, Duo purred, "You'll fucking well take whatever shit I choose to give you, Billy-boy."
Another precisely placed slash of the cane.
"You asked me <slash> how much pain <slash> I could handle? <slash> Well, I confess to having <slash> an infinite capacity <slash> for pain. <slash> Other people's pain. <slash> And yes <slash> I AM quite <slash> hungry for it."
As William's screams degenerated into high-pitched whimpers of "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die," Duo briskly retorted with a maniac cheerfulness that his fellow Gundam pilots would have found very familiar.
"Oh, come on now. If a woman half your size can survive thirty strokes, then a healthy macho guy like yourself surely can do the same. Besides, I'm not even two-thirds of the way through."
William's only response was a low, sobbing wail.
When Duo finished the last stroke, Ruderigo muttered with mild satisfaction, "Maybe that'll teach him some manners. Nothing else has."
Lady Devereaux and Crawford walked over to the frame to examine Duo's handiwork. She walked her long-nailed fingers down William's back -- eliciting a faint, agonized groan -- counting off the welts left by the cane, then said, "Quite impressive. Thirty distinct marks and not a single one crossed or overlaid by another."
With hints of his earlier grin still lurking on his lips, Duo said, "Well, did I pass your little test?"
Crawford chuckled and replied, "As Veronica said, impressive. I haven't seen such expertise and technique in a long time."
"If ever," added Ruderigo laconically.
"Other people have mentioned that I've got a real gift for this sort of thing," Duo said with a careless shrug.
As Trowa scanned the crowd in the Meat Market, he caught a brief glimpse of Duo before the Deathscythe pilot disappeared behind a wall of writhing dancers. The sighting only lasted a fraction of a second, but it was long enough for Trowa to notice an odd look of.... The only way he could describe it was as an expression of almost blatantly sexual satisfaction.
After hastily bolting out of Treize's suite, Wufei attempted to locate the other Gundam pilots. However, unable to find Heero, Trowa, or Quatre, the Chinese pilot was left with nothing to do except return to his room and get some sleep... or try to, at least.
Treize had been perfectly correct when he said that Wufei was capable of removing the neck chain at any time. It now sat in a little heap on the bedside table. But even in the darkness of the unlit room, the faint glimmer of its links was all too visible. Finally, Wufei determinedly turned his back to the table and the strangely mesmerizing chain lying on it, then slid into a restless, uneasy sleep.
The Chinese pilot frowned sleepily.
(Duo's weird behavior must have disturbed me more than I thought. Now I'm dreaming about him saying my name!)
"Wufei," a familiar husky voice repeated softly.
(Wait... I'm awake... and I DID hear someone call my name!)
The thought so startled Wufei that he threw his customary caution aside and sat bolt upright in bed.
Only a few feet away, in one of the armchairs in his bedroom, sat a dark still figure. The faint light that seeped through the closed curtains was more than sufficient to outline the black leather pants and vest, the fingerless gloves, and the long silken braid casually trailing down one shoulder.
Keeper and Mistress of Duo's Dark Side
Co-Keeper of Duo's Scythe & Bat Wings
Duo no Seishi ~~~ Saitoh no Koibito
The Full Disclaimer
All rights and privileges to Shin Kidousenki Gundam Wing are trademarks and property of Sunrise, Bandai, Sotsu Agency, and associated parties. The characters of these works are used WITHOUT permission for the purpose of entertainment only. This work of fiction is not meant for sale or profit.
Original portion of the fiction included here is considered to be the sole property and copyrighted to the author.