The Corrupted
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Author Note: Warning! Dub-con... leaning a bit to non-con

 

Knelt in front of his master, feeling helpless, cold and tired, Chris bowed his head in complete submission. He knew that Raphael could take him in any match against strength and mental prowess. Chris had tried to learn from his master. He'd tried to stand tall and make himself known as the leader of his clan. But he'd failed somewhere. And now there was nothing left but to ease away his fear, disregard the sweat beading over his skin, and tremble at his master's feet.

Raphael's hand on his head kneaded his scalp, first with soft and delicate strokes. Then with hard, furious grasps. “Do you not remember my training, Chris?” Raphael whispered. “All those lessons learned in my presence. You seem to have forgotten.”

Chris certainly did remember. He recalled every lesson. The chains that held him still, the ruthless beating and raping by Raphael. Every morning he laid beside Rickie, those events came back to haunt him. He'd lost his mortality in Raphael's hands every time he was struck. Lost his innocence every time Raphael had penetrated.

“I haven't forgotten,” Chris said with as much dignity as he could.

Cold, rusted chains still felt as if they bore into his skin all these decades. The feeling of Raphael's hand on his naked ass, forcing him open. He'd never forget that nor the look in his master's eyes. Narrowed and determined; the same as they were tonight.

“I entrusted the tri-cities to you, Christopher.” Raphael slid his hand away from Chris' hair. “And you made a mockery of my teachings.”

Yet, I wish to organize my clan the way I see fit, Master,” Chris whispered, lowering his head. He'd had enough of those commanding eyes.

Raphael smacked a hand across his cheek, leaving a fiery burn in its wake. “That is not what I wanted to hear. You were to adopt the common order of the Elders. Take in the coven; show them your strength and never let them forget.” A sly chuckle escaped his lips. “You still kill on instinct. That is not what the Elders have wished upon us. Not once have you called for a donor. Nor have I received them from this area. Of course I would think a visit is in order.”

“Should that be how a vampire lives, sir?” Chris' tone began to match his brewing anger. “Feed only on those who choose to be our source. Can we not hunt or be the monster in which legend has made us?”

Another hard smack on his cheek; the sound of skin hitting skin shrieked throughout the room. “No. And those who do not follow the Order, those who think they can be free, find out soon enough that they are not. Not here.” Raphael's footsteps creaked against the floor as he stepped away.

Flicking his eyes to see the back of his master's neatly ironed back slacks, Chris took in the size of Raphael. Slender, yet hard. Tall, as always. Sophisticated. He'd striven to be like him. Had he lost his direction?

Looking up at his master, Chris felt small again. He felt like the innocent young man who'd fallen into those lean arms more than a century ago. It was hard to believe it had been so long ago that Chris had once admired him.

“Your name?” Raphael's once soft voice flitted through his memory.

“Christopher Moreaux, good sir. And you are?”

A wickedly odd smile broadened the man's lips. “Raphael Cromwell.” He bowed his head, a signal to his elegance.

Chris couldn't blink. Too interested in the tall, narrow man before him. “It is surely a pleasure to meet you, Raphael,” he said, holding out a confident hand.

Raphael grasped his hand tight and shook, leaning closer. “The pleasure is mine.” Warmth from Raphael's body filled Chris with excitement. He hadn't the need to let go, but the desire to pull Raphael closer. “Tell me a little about yourself, Christopher.” Raphael eased his hand away, but kept his handsome, dark eyes on him.

“I am but a traveler, sir. There's not much to tell.”

“Is that so? I suppose it is nice to have freedom, is it not?” Raphael's warm breath dotted Chris' cheek as he wrapped his arm around Chris' waist. “How old are you?”

A tremble ran through Chris' arms as he clenched around Raphael's neck. “Twenty two.”

“And do you not have a wife? A child?”

Chris paused. “A friend, yes. I do wish to marry one day.”

“Your friend is one lucky lady,” Raphael breathed.

There was a certain spark in Raphael's blue eyes. Something that unnerved Chris. Staring at the youthful face that stared back, Chris wondered if this man hid any secrets. Who could this man really be?

“I'd like to show you something, if I may. Would you care to come back to my home, Christopher?” Raphael asked, pulling away and leaving Chris feeling colder than he'd felt all night.

Chris swallowed. Hesitated. What would his beloved Serena think? “I-I am not sure. I am meeting someone. She should be here any moment now.” Chris looked towards the door of the busy tavern. But his beloved was nowhere in sight.

“I can inform the barmaid to keep sight of her. We'll leave a note, yes?” Raphael twisted his fingers around Chris'.

The invitation, the broad hand in his, fascinated Chris. “I suppose a short visit wouldn't hurt. But only for a moment.”

“Perfect,” Raphael said, triumphantly. “That is all the time I need. It will not take long.” Raphael escorted him through the crowded tavern.

Past the musician and his lively piano solo, and towards the door, Chris followed, still unsure of what he'd gotten himself into. He stopped as Raphael spoke with a maid, never needing to give details of the person he was waiting for. Then they were out the door and into the cold, dark night, walking along the edge of the old buildings and towers.

“You are still not paying attention.” Another slap to his already painful cheek made Chris focus in on his master. Once beautiful. Once intriguing. Now overbearing. Raphael knelt in front of Chris, his strong arms seized around his waist and pulled against him. “What are you thinking, child?”

Chris dropped his eyes back to the dark wood floor underneath his legs. “Nothing.”

“Oh, but I don't believe that is true. You remember. You still remember our first meeting.”

Chris nodded.

“Wonderful. Because I cannot.” The confession didn't surprise Chris. “Tell me about the first night I'd taken you. Tell me how wonderful it felt to have me inside of you.”

Chris shuddered. “It's a memory I dare not remember.” He'd longed to forget. Tried to put that, and all of Raphael's teachings, in the back of his memory. If he had a box, he'd seal them away.

A warm hand trailed along his jaw. “Please.”

Closing his eyes, he remembered that night. Out of the tavern. Onto the dark streets. To the secluded home. “You forced me to come with you.” Led was more like it. “Then you captured me.” Seduced him. “And you promised me wealth and everything I could ever desire in my lifetime. Which, in fact, I have not yet received.” Chris clenched his fists on top of his lap.

“Patience. To acquire it all takes a lifetime, remember?” Raphael's hand stopped at Chris' temple and gently stroked across his brow, seemingly to wipe away any of Chris' trepidation. It wasn't helping. “I remember now. You were to be my best student, Christopher. Your youth, your freedom… so much that I had only dreamed about having for myself at your age.”

“Lost...” Chris sighed.

“Gained. In my possession, you had it all. Protection. Wealth. Glory.” Raphael continued his trek along Chris' face, tickling his nose until his fingers arrived at Chris' lips. They settled there. “How did it feel to have me?”

Another memory Chris had longed to put away. The first night would have been the only wondrous night with Raphael save for one thing. Serena. His friend who'd ended up waiting for him at the tavern. Only he'd never arrive.

“Horrible,” Chris mumbled against Raphael's finger. He knew this was going to be a long night. Forced to endure whatever punishment Raphael saw fit wasn't his idea of a good time. His “clan”, Mikael and Lucious lay still on the floor; he didn’t know if Chris had killed them or put them to sleep. And Ricki, his human lover, still waited for him at his mansion.

“It couldn't have been that bad. I know I quite enjoyed our time.” Raphael smoothed his finger across Chris' lips, and then traveled down his chin. He brushed against Chris' neck, making Chris shiver. Then he found his way to Chris' clothed chest. “You're so tenacious with me. Maybe a beating will refresh those memories.” He pulled on Chris' shirt. The second button popped and clattered to the floor. “Take this off. Now.”

It was now or never. Chris could fight for his freedom, something he'd never thought of when in Raphael's court. Or should he bow like a good subservient, and partake in his punishment? He'd dreamed of being without Raphael's harsh beatings for decades. Had thought the time finally come where he’d no longer receive them. The wounds on his back were long gone. The pain had subsided. But the memory had left him mentally injured.

He crooked his head. Raphael stayed unguarded. But he was always poised and ready for anything Chris might plan.

Finally, Chris reached up to unbutton his shirt, taking care not to lose any more buttons. It was an expensive suit shirt after all. Once the shirt hung limp over his chest, he pulled it over his shoulders prepared to drop it behind him. Raphael's warm hand on his stomach made him freeze.

“You're still brimming with sexual finesse, dear Christopher.” Raphael smiled, tracing lines over Chris' abdomen.

Chris narrowed his eyes. The same darkness he'd seen countless times flared through Raphael's eyes. It wasn't desire or lust. It was power. Extreme dominance over everyone. Anyone. It always scared him. Made him falter.

“Keep going,” Raphael ordered.

Chris slid his arms from his shirt and let it fall to the floor. Raphael nodded in approval. At least there were no chains. No burning ropes or paddles to be seen in Raphael's quarters this time.

“Our first night...when I took you. You were so nervous. So tight. Do you remember how I eased your worries? How I laid you back into the bed? Massaged your body and mind,” Raphael said, leaning over Chris. There was nowhere left for Chris to go but down on his back onto the floor. “I said, Dear child, do not be afraid. And in those words you succumbed to me so beautifully.” Another dominating flash in Raphael's eyes, only this time, Chris couldn't look away.

Instead, his emotions vanished. Fear and worry. Gone. Just like that first night. He stared up into Raphael's eyes, into the dark orbs that had seduced him more than a century ago. Raphael had found his way on top of him, straddling his legs, digging at the button fly of his slacks.

“I had loved you, Christopher.” Raphael wrenched open the button. “More than you will ever know.”

“Then why did you beat me?” Chris asked. The question shocking even himself. It could be the last thing said in the wake of Raphael's voodoo-like spell on him.

“Lessons learned,” Raphael said, jerking Chris' slacks down his legs. “I needed to know if you were strong, like I thought you were. Thankfully, you are.”

Chris felt the sting of the cold air bite his naked legs. He'd been seduced, again. Drugged by Raphael's ethereal powers. Compared to other vampire abilities, they weren't normal. No. Raphael was not only an Elder vampyre, he held the power of sorcery within him. Something Chris could never be. And now, looking up at Raphael from the floor, he felt like that helpless youth again.

Raphael never took his eyes away. The more Chris found himself lost inside of them, the less he could feel his own soul being ripped apart. A certain sense of numbness seized his body. He could barely even feel Raphael's hands exploring his body.

In his mind, he could hear the clank of old chains echoing off the walls. The huffing of breath in his ear. The groans and grunts. He'd been strung up by those rusted chains. Hung from the ceiling and spread wide for Raphael.

Rugged hands on his hips rocked him forward. An invading hardness stretched him. Beat at him. Bloodied and bruised him. Countless times, he'd awaken to find himself left there. Heart beating, but not alive in any sense. And, worse, he never knew how he'd ended up in such predicament.

Those eyes...something about them. Chris focused in half-lidded on Raphael, who'd finally moved down to settle between Chris' legs and concentrated on Chris' hardened cock. The feeling rushed back into his body. A moist heat surrounded him as Raphael took Chris into his mouth.

“D-damn it,” Chris muttered.

Raphael smiled and continued his ministrations; sucking Chris' cock deep between his fangs. Chris lowered his head to the floor, wondering how he'd gotten into this, again. It felt too good to break away. But it was conquering, just like any other time.

And just as the ministrations grew arousing, Raphael raised his head and slapped Chris' cock, making it sting. “One for betraying my orders.” Another smack, harder this time. “Two for enjoying your punishment.” And then another. Chris hissed as a tear ran down his cheek. “Three for...” Raphael paused and looked up at Chris. “Being you.”

“S-s-stop it.” Chris whimpered. He'd never thought he'd be in tears.

But Raphael was already on the move again. He straightened his spine and pulled Chris' slacks from his legs. Then he unbuttoned his own; his rigid cock sprang from underneath the flaps of fabric. Once he pulled them away from his legs, he took the time to neatly fold them before turning back to Chris.

Chris understood. He remembered now. The beginning was never this painful. Raphael had tried to seduce him. Had tried to love him. But after he married Serena and turned her, somehow, the event startled Raphael into trapping Chris into a grueling fifty years of servitude.

The thought of Raphael being nice was completely past him. He was certainly not nice. Not anymore.

Raphael grasped hold of Chris' legs and dragged him against the hard wood planks until his ass was settled onto Raphael's knees. He was spread open. Raphael stared at his quivering length and his puckered hole; another wicked smile came onto his lips.

“Just like this, dear Christopher. I've missed you so much. I do not think I've had the pleasure to experience anyone else like you,” Raphael said and then eased the tip of himself into Chris' ass.

Chris hissed and writhed. Raphael's cock thrust deep inside of him. The pain and the pressure seized at his stomach. There was no other feeling that could make him scream as this. Another tear escaped down his cheek.

With every thrust, Chris felt the last of innocence, what may have been left after years of torment, seep from within. This would be his punishment. The flooding memories. The pain. The torture. Everything that Raphael had put him through.

He'd be damned if he ran his clan like that. But he'd be damned if he didn't. Was this Raphael's idea of power?

All he could do was ride out the pain brewing in his stomach and the pressure of Raphael's cock beating him. All he could think of was Lucious and that one week in Baton Rouge so many years ago.

That night was warm. Humid. He and Lucious had just finished feeding from drunken maids. Maybe it was a bender? Or maybe there were emotions to be had? He still couldn't understand it all. But when Lucious laid himself down, offering himself to Chris...he'd never thought more of true friendship than in that beautiful body in front of him.

Years of torture in Raphael's hands, and yet, Lucious had found reason to stay with Chris. That week of needed desire. Decades of companionship. Chris had always wished to go back to the way it was. To never let those times die.

“You sure are full of memories,” Raphael huffed, drawing his spent cock away from Chris.

Chris blinked, thankful it was over. “It helps sometimes. To remember the good things instead of the bad.”

“Is that so?” Raphael yanked his slacks over his hips, and then hovered over Chris. “You've had good times, then, I take it.”

“Should I have had bad ones?” Chris laughed a fake, little laugh.

“No. But I do wonder the purpose of pleasant memories. Who do you fancy? Who do you love?”

Chris went silent a moment. “I had loved Serena...until she left me.” His lips trembled as another name came to him. But, he could never say it out loud. He'd always loved another, who had never loved him back.

“Ah, yes. Serena. And she is dead now?”

“Yes,” Chris was quick to answer. “Thankfully.”

And these two, your servants?” Raphael motioned toward the two bodies laying on the floor.

Chris couldn’t dare say a word about who they truly were. “What will you do with us, Master?”

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