RAPED

 

You are being undressed, youko, why donít you fight back?

 

The fox was panting, his hair stained with the ashes on the floor, his cheeks still sore from crying. But the rapist did not mind. One hand pinned the youkoís chest to the ground firmly, as if the attacker hadnít lost any strength in battling the red-head. The other hand skillfully ripped the pink pants. The youko in human form howled in fear and inner pain. He tasted the ashes on his mouth and it made his heart burst.

 

You donít talk to me, youko?

 

Did you burn my garden, you piece of shit?

 

Kurama had closed his eyes by now, but the image of the dead plants, the fuming soil and the scent of burned trees was all around him. Even more because the ashes of his once so beloved friends, the trees in his garden, tasted bitter on his lips, and the warmth of the soil beneath him proved to him, that it was true... the garden really had been burning.

 

Did you burn my garden, prick? The youko demanded, not willing to show his disgust to the rapist, not willing to show how hurt he was. He received a hard punch into his naked thigh for that and winced from the unexpected pain.

 

Be a gentle fox!

 

PRICK!

 

Another pinch. Kurama squirmed to free himself from the grip, still panting and bleeding from the wounds beneath his ripped shirt. For a moment, the hand on his back seemed to lighten a little. It was the moment the youko had been waiting for. With the rest of his power, he jumped up, drawing his strength from the strong wish to get away from the black-haired hentai. He fled into the dead arms of his tree. Itís trunk was so warm, it almost seemed as if it was a human being Ė alive. But the tree was dead, and the warmth was only the remembrance of the fire.

 

Come back here, fox! The rapist demanded.

 

You donít really expect me to just get up and come into your arms, do you? Kurama answered, leaning his weak self against the powerless tree, trying hard not to show how worn out he was.

 

You lost already, bishounen-fox. And you know what I want.

 

Tears welled up in Kurama. This monster was so merciless and cold. His hands clenched the tree behind him as he watched Karasu stand up and walk towards him. Surely, he would have fled, but with what power? He had just been defeated in a battle and everything around him was dead. The rapist laid one hand against the tree, right above the red-head and came close, their lips almost touching. Kurama held his breath, not wanting to smell how close the bastard really was.

 

I know you are hiding something from me, beautiful youko. A hand opened the buttons on the red-headís shirt and reached inside, touching warm skin, touching Kurama in a way, which provoked disgust and fear inside of him. He jerked his head away, not even thinking about what the black-haired demon had said. His mind was too much drawn to the traveling hand under his shirt, he hated so much.

 

You are in love, fox. The rapist opened more buttons. Kurama slowly got aware of what he had just heard. How did Karasu know? He had never said a word about Hiei, how did that prick see what Kurama missed so much? Maybe it was just a trick? Anyway, the tears which had only pressed against his eyelids so far, came streaming now. It was his weakest point, the rapist had hit. And it pained the fox.

 

Who is it?

 

Why are you doing this to me?

 

You are beautiful...

 

If you like my body, why do you hurt it?

 

I wouldnít get even a word from you otherwise. So, you are at least groaning with anything... Even if itís pain.

 

You bastard...

 

Kurama felt weak, and he ignored the hand on his chest, the lips on his cheeks, kissing the tears away, as if they meant to be nice to him. It was deceiving, as if Karasu cared! Of course that prick did not care, of course, he only followed his dirty fantasies here. And Kurama was the victim.

 

Who is it? He demanded again.

 

I donít know what you are talking about, bastard. Kurama tried his best to sound harsh, but choked on his tears instead. He would not say a word about Hiei! No need to endanger the youkai as well, not the one he loved. He wouldnít betray his love, his koibito! Karasu grabbed the youkoís collar and threw him onto the burned soil.

 

WHO IS IT? Was there some sort of pain in his voice beneath the anger? It didnít matter anyway. Kurama scrambled to get away, but his body would hardly cooperate. He could only get onto his knees, before Karasu threw his heavy body upon him, and he was, where he had been at the beginning: On the floor, without pants - on his stomach with a rapist on top of him.

 

I wonít tell you, you dirty bastard, fuck you! Kurama yelled, despite the inferior, dangerous position he was in. Karasu straddled him from behind, sitting on him. He reached for the battered arms, pinning them onto the foxís back.

 

You are the only one, I am gonna fuck! He said, provoking a painful howl from the youko. Kurama could feel and hear how the one on top of him opened his pants. Not long and he would do it again, would hurt him again. Kurama tried to writhe away. The rapist pushed his arms up higher and the youko groaned in pain, giving up his feeble attempts.

 

GET AWAY FROM ME, RAPIST! The youko yelled again, knowing it would not change a thing. Karasu leaned forward, his lips almost touched Kuramaís ear.

 

Who is your lover? He whispered angrily. But Kurama was determined to not give his secret away, not for the world. Hiei had to be safe!

 

You think I am gonna tell you and wait for you to rape him, too? He snarled harshly. Shivering, he felt the otherís bare skin on his back and rear. He couldnít even tell, how Karasu had managed to take off his pants, having been in a position like that. A slim, dirty hand wiped the ashes off of the bishounenís face. It only provoked more tears from the kitsune, he longed for someone to comfort him. He almost felt as if he could find comfort in the slim hand brushing him, as if it didnít belong to the rapist himself. But he would not be deceived, Karasu was a dirty prick, who now even started to fuck with Kuramaís mind.

 

Who is it? I will tear your insides out, if you donít tell me.

 

Do, you prick, I am not gonna endanger him. If you had any idea about love, you fuck, you wouldnít even try to get that out of me.

 

You are the fuck here, fox, a dirty voice answered and the body raised himself a bit from Kurama. The fox was all tensed, he knew what would happen now. Karasu had done it before... many times. He felt the rapist searching for his entrance. The fox whimpered, wished for the act to be over now, instead of laying painfully ahead of him.

 

I will find out anyway, Karasu said, striking the crave in front of him with a finger. Kurama tensed again, full of tears.

 

If you donít tell me, I will probably be very nasty to him.

 

Will you leave him alone if I tell you? Kurama asked, hopefully.

 

If you wish so, yes, Karasu said almost gently. But the fox was reasonably dubious. He wouldnít trust Karasu so easily. No, he would not trust him at all Ė Karasuís word was not worth a leaf, dead or alive. And how should he find out, anyway? Karasu was only wanting to make him feel bad. And it worked...

 

I wonít tell you, Kurama declared, with the last bit of strength in his voice he had left. Karasu answered with a pelvic thrust, forcing himself inside the youko, who cried out in pain and disgust. It hurt! Karasu lowered himself on him again and again, forcefully. His arousal was disgusting. And it was disgusting how he started panting as he screwed Kuramaís insides.

 

Is it that friend of yours, the Fire Demon? Karasu asked under his breath, with the most mean voice, Kurama had ever heard. Unable to control himself, under the painful torture he was receiving, Kurama whined some, giving the hint away, that Karasu was right about Hiei. A hoarse laughter was heard. The rapist leaned down and kissed a stiffed neck, muttering his thanks to Kurama for telling him. The fox whimpered from the pain inside and outside, and from the feeling of Karasuís breath brushing against his skin in jolts. He wanted to tell him, that he would never let him come close to his koi, that he would give his life to protect Hiei, but under the pain and torture, there were only tears and sobs...

 

Karasu had stopped talking, he was only panting in the disgusting pleasure he found in an unwilling, pained youko. The weight on his weakened body made it impossible for Kurama to get away. This time, Karasu had not even needed to tie him up.

 

The rapist found his climax in a satisfied moan, and Kurama felt the disgusting juices spread in and on him. He felt wrong and dirty, for having succumbed to it again, for even giving away the truth about the love he had held secret for so long.Karasu drew away from the crying bishounen, who laid there as if there was only the feeble ningen left in him, not the strong fox from the makai in the least.

 

As soon as he was relieved of the weight, Kurama pulled his knees close to his chest and crouched forwards, rolling in a ball like a young fox in fear. ... And he cried. He cried like the tortured boy he felt he was, hugging his knees, trying to hide in the ashes of what once had been his friends. Karasu brushed over his shoulder. The ningen winced.

 

Get away from me, he sobbed, isnít it enough to rape me? He jerked the hand away without looking and kept on sobbing. His nose was deeply buried in between his knees. He felt Karasu standing there, watching him. He didnít care, as long as that prick did not touch him anymore. The dead ashes embraced the dirty cloth and hair, holding the foxís half-naked body warm in a last move of friendship.

 

No plants, no Hiei... Kurama was all alone. Karasu left silently, leaving the pained fox to himself. The tortured creature didnít move for the rest of the night, except for wrapping himself in his pants for some modesty. How much he wished Hiei was here to comfort him.

 

When it started to dawn, Kurama forced himself to return to his room. He weakly pushed the door open and stumbled to his bed. He was too weak to wash off what the rapist had left on him. He fell onto his bed, starting in a crying fit again. His hand clutched a small sheet of paper, he had found on the sheets.

 

Iíll be back.