Marly's Angels

Zexion is keeping a secret. Unfortunately, Marluxia and Larxene are aware of it - and use it to manipulate Zexion to serve their own ends.

Rating: M

Pairings: Marluxion, Marxene, LarxZex, AKuZeku, Xehanort/Ienzo

Warnings: Gender bending, ABUSE, discipline/SPANKING, EXPLICIT SCENES, RAPE, master/slave relationships, straight!Marluxia, menages a troi, length, het, femslash, SEXISM UP THE WAZOO. Seriously, if you're easily offended or triggered, do not under any circumstances read this.

I can't believe it! Another chapter, after...how long has it been? Almost a year, imagine that.

I have mostly lost my fire for fanfiction. Sorry, everyone. But this is going up because dammit, it has been too long. I must warn you all that this is by far the most explicit and graphic chapter yet. I am not joking. If you thought the first chapter was bad, well...just look up at the warnings for this one, will ya?

Oh, and it's also really long, but I don't think any of you mind that.

Today's song is the marvelously appropriate "Hatefuck" by The Bravery. That name alone sets the tone for the entire chapter, lemme tell ya.

3. There Will Be No Tenderness

And there will be no tenderness, no tenderness

There will be no tenderness, no tenderness

I will show no mercy for you, you have no mercy for me

The only thing that I ask, love me mercilessly

Larxene had been curled up on her favorite couch in the Lobby, flipping through the pages of a superhero comic when a portal opened a few yards from her. She didn't think much of it - probably Marluxia deciding to take a break from his daily patrol of the castle. Much to her surprise, though, it wasn't Marluxia's tall, broad form that stepped through the oval of darkness.

"Zexion?" Larxene squealed in surprise, bolting to an upright position.

"Good...morning, I suppose, XII," Zexion said, striding across the Lobby so that she was standing directly in front of Larxene. Well, more like he. This was "nerdy D&D boy," not "that ugly bitch." Flat-chested and skinny and anemic. Larxene even noticed that Zexion lowered her voice an octave when she was in disguise.

"Why the hell are you here?" Larxene said. "You do realize that it's, what, eight hours until six?"

Zexion sighed dramatically. "I would have held on until then, but I realized that I missed our dear Superior so much I had to come see him early..."

"What the hell," Larxene said, wondering if Zexion had been lobotomized. Or maybe she was just faking it, but Larxene couldn't see any benefit to that. Zexion only did things that ensured her own relative safety and survival - as any Nobody did - but this? This came across as insanity no matter how one sliced it.

"How long are you going to gawk like a goldfish, Larxene?" Zexion said. It must have been the first time Zexion had ever called her by her name, not just "XII."

"Huh? What do you want me to do?" Larxene said. "I don't have to tell you where Marly is if you're looking for him. You can just smell him, can't you?"

"No, I don't want you to tell me where Marluxia is," Zexion said. "Since you're his confidante...of sorts...I was wondering if you knew what his, ahh, 'theme' was for tonight."

"Why do you care?" Larxene said.

"Because, if possible, I humbly ask that you fetch me my costume."

"Okay, are you nuts, girl? You've never humbly asked me for anything, least of all, well, one of Marly's costumes!"

"I would appreciate it greatly if you did," Zexion said, tilting her head to the side and offering Larxene a coquettish smile, which just about dropped the bottom from Larxene's stomach. "Honestly, I would."

"Oh, fuck you!" Larxene cried. "Will you tell me what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, really," Zexion said, a bit too dramatically to be sincere. "Except I realize now that I've been something of a bad girl, and I would like to repent."

"You are insane," Larxene said with equal parts wonder and horror.

Zexion offered her a smile that seemed all too deranged. "So? Will you help me or not, Larxene? Marluxia will be happy to see us finally cooperating, don't you think?"

"Oh, go to hell!" Larxene yelled, but she turned around and stomped off anyway. Much as she didn't want to admit it, Zexion did seem to have a point. Marluxia was always complaining that Larxene and Zexion fought too often and he'd rather they get along so he wouldn't have to suffer such ferocious migraines every morning. Larxene did feel a little bad for causing Marly migraines, especially since they were her fault (partly - Zexion was the one who always started the fights!) Maybe if Marluxia saw her getting along with Zexion, he'd have cause to be proud of her.

Larxene wasn't fool enough not to see the desperation behind Zexion's every movement, her every word. She was play-acting. Pretending to be a good girl because...because of what?

Because clearly she'd done something horrible. Larxene snickered to herself. Plenty of schadenfreude, she suspected, waited right behind the corner.

Axel had circuited around Castle Oblivion four times already, and he had yet to find Zexion. By now he was starting to wonder if Zexion was even in the Castle. Maybe he'd fled to The World That Never Was...

Or maybe he was in the Penthouse. Marluxia's headquarters - a place Axel wouldn't even dream of popping in uninvited. For one thing, there was the small matter that he couldn't. The Penthouse was blocked from the rest of the Castle by some sort of mysterious disturbance, which prevented him from using corridors of darkness to access the top floor. He would start off in the Penthouse's direction, but when he reached the area in which he knew the Penthouse was located, he couldn't get through it. As if he'd bumped into an invisible wall.

Axel supposed the "Superior" had a right to his privacy, but he wondered why Marluxia needed an entire floor. What was he hiding in there - torture chambers?

And now Zexion might be there. Early.

Axel shuddered at that thought. He doubted that even Marluxia could maintain a literary discussion for that long. Which only begged the dreaded question of what Marluxia was doing to Zexion.

Since he couldn't find Zexion, Axel settled for speaking to Zexion's comrades. Lexaeus and Vexen, the ones whose sides he rarely left. Perhaps he viewed them as bodyguards, though Axel thought them rather ineffectual.

Vexen, predictably, started hurling insults the instant Axel peeked inside his frigid lab. Axel ran away laughing, giddy despite himself. It was always fun to set Vexen off. It took a little longer to find Lexaeus. Turned out the big guy was sitting at the kitchen counter, enjoying a mug of offee. Well, Axel couldn't really tell if he was enjoying it, since his expression remained forever stony.

"Yo! Lexaeus!" Axel called as he approached.

"Axel," Lexaeus rumbled. He said nothing more, but Axel wasn't expecting anything more from the Silent Hero, of all people.

"Hey, mind if I ask you a few questions?" Axel said, sidling up beside Lexaeus. The strong smell of black coffee made his head spin.

Lexaeus did not reply verbally, though he inclined his head in a gesture Axel supposed might be a nod. Grinning, Axel pulled up a seat beside Lexaeus. Was it his imagination, or did Lexaeus shift to the side?

Damn that big boulder Lexaeus. He was so big, and so slow, that it was hard to tell when he e actually moved versus when he just twitched.

"Sooo...Zexion," Axel said, doing his best to put on an airy, careless front. "I was wondering where he might be."

Lexaeus raised his eyebrows, saying without words, Why do you care?

Axel remembered why he hated talking with Lexaeus; it was just like talking to a wall, except even less fun because Lexaeus did react - he just didn't react in a way Axel could respond to.

"I was just wondering," Axel said.

"Find another member to torment," Lexaeus grunted.

"I'm not tormenting him! We were playing chess," Axel said, rather inanely. He sensed that he losing control over the conversation, something which bothered him more than he would admit. He, who reveled in twisting others' words around and messing with their minds.

Lexaeus said nothing. He took a long, controlled sip from his cofee.

"So, do you know where he is? Maybe helping out Vexen in the lab?"

Lexaeus slowly shook his head.

"So you don't know. So he's not with you," Axel said, the gears of his mind turning. Something churned in his stomach: the realization that the worst had happened. Zexion had landed in Marluxia's clutches again, locked in a "literary discussion" that Axel suspected wasn't really a literary discussion.

Lexaeus didn't respond, so Axel went on talking, musing to empty air. "Oh, this is great. But I wonder why Marluxia would want to target him, of all people? Zexion can barely fight...but hey, do you think the Superior himself sent Zexion to keep an eye on Marluxia?"

Lexaeus frowned at Axel, though that wasn't much of a change from his usual expression.

"This does not concern you, VIII."

"I'll take that as a yes," Axel said, folding his hands behind his head and putting his feet on the table. Lexaeus' frown definitely deepened.

"Are you concerned for him?" Was it Axel's imagination, or did Lexaeus sound a bit sardonic? Axel scowled and chewed the inside of his cheek.

"Well...maybe a little."

"You?" Lexaeus' blue eyes narrowed. Axel shuffled backwards in his chair, suddenly feeling like a teenager again - Lea again - on the receiving end of his father's lectures.

"Yeah, sure. Listen, I know what you're going to say. Axel, whose only loyalty is to Organization Himself, huh? I sure as hell shouldn't give a damn for someone like Zexion."

"No, you should not," Lexaeus said. Axel got the suspicion that he was coaxing more words out of Lexaeus than Lexaeus cared to say in a month. That thought filled him with glee.

"Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't. Not in normal circumstances, anyway. Usually we just play a game of chess or Stratego and that's it," Axel said with a shrug. "That's been our working relationship. Maybe a mission here and there. But today...I think, I think I got to see another side to him."

The side that had attacked Marluxia. The side that shyly dropped hints about the kind of girl he liked. The side that came across not as an aloof schemer, but an insecure little boy. It was a side of Zexion that Axel had never seen before, and he quite liked it. For the first time, he could see Zexion as...human, almost. Someone beyond just an efficient agent of the Organization. Someone vulnerable, and in need of help.

Strange way to think about anyone. Axel didn't even think of Roxas that way, but the difference was that Roxas didn't need help, and whenever he did, he had no problem asking Axel for it.

"He opened up to me, for the first time," Axel said. "He told me things that I don't think he's ever told anyone before."

"Do not get too close," Lexaeus said, sounding even more gruff than usual. "He will not allow you."

"Yeah, but - "

"This is not a warning, Axel," Lexaeus said, his eyes sliding shut. He looked serene, yet so very pained at the same time. "This is prophecy."

"Prophecy, huh?" Axel said with a bitter smile. He glared at the smooth white surface of the table. White, just the like the rest of Castle Oblivion. How he hated that color. "Too bad, but I don't believe in prophecies. I'll make the future into exactly what I want it to be, got it memorized?"

Isa! Believe me, buddy, the future is ours. We'll make all our dreams come true, got it memorized? What's going to stop us?

Plenty. Lea had been the biggest idiot to have walked any of the worlds. He had never anticipated losing his heart. Losing his ability to dream.

Losing Isa.

Lexaeus didn't speak. He turned away from Axel and took another long sip from his coffee - implying that he would like Axel to leave. Axel sighed, shrugged, and obeyed. He could already tell that Lexaeus didn't know much about Zexion. It was a strange thought. Weren't Zexion and Lexaeus always hanging out? But they never interacted in any meaningful way, now that Axel thought about it. Usually Zexion gave Lexaeus orders, or else the two of them stood silently together like matching statues. It struck Axel that Lexaeus had all along kept a deliberate distance from Zexion. Perhaps he had tried getting close once but Zexion had not allowed him.

Axel didn't care if Zexion wanted him close or not. Like hell if that little brat knew what was good for him - he'd take his pride over reason any day. Perhaps his pride convinced him that he could handle the constant torment of Marluxia's "literary discussions." Perhaps it prevented him from asking for help, and led him to despise those who tried.

But Axel had resolved to befriend Zexion, and he wasn't going to let a silly thing like the boy's pride stand in his way.

But first, he'd have to find out just what the hell went on during these "literary discussions."

"Tonight's theme is schoolgirl chic," Larxene said. "Enjoy yourself, Zexy."

She practically threw the uniform at Zexion. Zexion fumbled as she caught it, cursing under her breath because the constricting bandages prevented her from moving quickly. She unfolded the bundle and examined its components, though she already knew what to expect. Tight-fitting, skimpy, and she'd be lucky to get a skirt that reached mid-thigh.

"Schoolgirl chic" indeed. The costume consisted of a blouse that only had two working buttons, so it would reveal plenty of cleavage and stomach, a pleated red plaid skirt that seemed barely long enough to cover her rear, thigh-high white stockings, and pastel pink panties with a little ribbon in the front. It was finished off with a hair ribbon and necktie, both in the same plaid material as the skirt.

Zexion frowned at the various garments spread out on the floor before her, and threw Larxene a glance over her shoulder. It seemed to be...missing something. "Where's the bra?"

"Hmm?" Larxene raised an eyebrow, before a huge shark-like smirk crossed her face. "You really think you need one?"

Zexion bit back her embarrassment. So Marluxia wanted to humiliate her this way. To hell if she'd let him have the last laugh. Tonight, she'd already sworn to be as obedient as possible, to throw him off guard and thus lessen her punishment. The horrid punishment she'd receive for assaulting him...why had she done something so insane? So stupid?

But those words that he'd said, so clearly meant to goad...I believe everything would run so much more smoothly in this castle if we could all behave more respectfully to one another. Respect! He was one to talk about that. He didn't respect her in the slightest and both of them knew that.

Stupid, though, giving in to her blind instincts. Never in a million years could she overwhelm him in physical combat. Doing that only ensured that he would punish her harder tonight.

Reluctantly, Zexion stripped from the uniform that she had put on only hours before that morning. As the coat slipped from her shoulders, familiarly heavy and warm, her confidence - her mask - slipped away with it. Things became worse when she unwrapped the towel and undid her bandages, letting them fall like white snakes to the floor around her feet. Freed of their bindings, her breasts bounced against her chest, uncomfortably heavy. She shivered, but not from cold and certainly not anticipation. Simply...shame.

Zexion hated nothing more than her own femininity. From the earliest age Ienzo had been brought up to think of it as a sign of shame and failure, and Ienzo's Nobody's experiences had only vindicated that belief. If she was really a man, would she have suffered this much under Marluxia?

But tonight, though, if she wanted to survive, she was going to have to milk her femininity for all it was worth.

"Nice strip show, Zexy," Larxene said, lounging imperiously on the couch. Of course, she was in full Organization gear. It wasn't yet evening, which begged the question of why Larxene was in the Penthouse in the first place. "Now get those pants off."

"I don't recall you having the authority to order me around," Zexion said frigidly, though she had begun pulling her pants down anyway. Not because of Larxene's order but because, well, she had to. She winced as the leather brushed against the still sensitive, reddened skin where Marluxia had beaten her last night. A potion taken that morning had reduced most of the swelling and bruising, but hadn't eradicated all of the pain. The pain would only become much, much worse...

"Sheesh, didn't you say we were supposed to get along?" Larxene said with a pensive sigh, resting her chin in her hands.

"Then get into your own costume, if you really want to show solidarity," Zexion snapped, pulling up the uniform panties. They were low-cut, but to her relief covered a bit more than the sheer lace number she'd had to wear last night. The skirt went on next - she tried to adjust it so that it covered as much as possible, but she knew she'd end up flashing any observer with every step.

"It's not evening yet," Larxene said as Zexion began buttoning up the blouse. "I'm not a masochist like you, Zexy. I'm not about to demand my punishment this early in the morning. For fuck's sake, I haven't even eaten breakfast."

"Lexaeus made coffee if you want any," Zexion said sardonically. The blouse felt uncomfortably tight around the chest and she could perfectly see the round bumps of her nipples through it. She blinked and threw Larxene a glare.

"This is yours."

"Yeah, I know. But Marly had it laid out for you," Larxene said, raising her eyebrows. "Hey, if you rip it I'm gonna kill you, Zexy."

"Go to hell," Zexion snapped, keeping her face turned from Larxene so Larxene wouldn't see her furious blush.

"Can't, already there," Larxene said with an airy sigh.

"No, I think you could stand to go a few circles deeper," Zexion growled.

"Hey, weren't you the one going on about solidarity? You sure aren't showing much of it now, Zexy dear," Larxene said.

"I don't give that which cannot be reciprocated," Zexion said, though without much enthusiasm; she was focusing on pulling on the stockings. "You either show some solidarity first, or I will continue to treat you the way I always have."

"Is that a threat, Zexy?" Larxene purred. "It's a pretty shitty one, you know. You think I give a crap about how you treat me?"

Larxene didn't, and they both knew that Zexion didn't speak because she had nothing to say. She yanked the left stocking as high up as it could go, as if hoping it would compensate for the skirt's shortness, and began tying the necktie. She couldn't knot it up all the way because the blouse was open in the front, which rather distressed her; the few times that Ienzo had worn suits, she had always done up every button and knotted the tie to the collar. Perhaps it was an unconscious way to preserve her masquerade. She knew she could never afford the luxury of wearing her shirt casually open in the front the way that Braig and Dilan did.

A long, full-body mirror leaned in the corner of the Lobby. Like everything in the Penthouse it was ridiuclously overwrought, with a gilt frame shaped like intertwining vines and roses. Zexion stepped in front of it to tie back her hair with the ribbon. She had already lost every other element of her masquerade, but she felt even more vulnerable and exposed without the fringe in her face. It might impede her vision somewhat, but it contributed to her image as someone who operated from behind walls and doors, hidden in the shadows. A schemer. She gazed into the mirror and a shy, blushing schoolgirl, her short hair bound by a bow and her breasts threatening to spill free from her blouse, stared back. Zexion fought the sudden, violent urge to smash the mirror. Only the thought of how Marluxia would retaliate prevented her.

Larxene's lightning-and-ozone scent moved closer and she appeared in the mirror, her hands on her hips and a smirk twisting her face. "You sure look cute, Zexy. You should wear plaid more often, it suits you."

"Shut up," Zexion hissed without thinking.

"Awww, but why?" Larxene pouted. "Come on, Zexy. I've known you for so long and I still don't get to talk to you that often. You're the only girl here besides me. It gets kind of tiresome, you know, being the only girl in a sea of posturing, mouth-breathing guys. You kinda want someone to talk fashion with, don't you agree?"

Larxene was just trying to goad her and Zexion knew that, but she fell for it anyway. "Silence, XII! I have nothing in common with you. I have nothing to discuss with you. If things actually worked the way they are supposed to, I would only speak to you to give you orders!"

"Sheesh, you're no fun, girlfriend." Larxene shook her head. "If you don't wanna talk fashion, why don't we talk about guys? I know you don't like Marly, but there's gotta be some guys out there who you think are dreamy. How about Lexaeus? You're always hanging out with him. Or Axel - "

"That is enough!" Zexion shouted before she could stop herself. She was shaking in rage and the instant Larxene had said Axel's name, her face burned. Axel. She didn't want to think about him, stupid number VIII. He would not help her, would not, never would... "You will cease this pointless natter this instant!"

"Sheez, just trying to be friends with you. Every girl's got to have a circle of good friends, I say," Larxene said, reclining against the couch.

"I," Zexion hissed, "am not a girl."

The instant the words left her mouth she regretted them. They quivered in the air between her and Larxene, unable to disappear, awaiting the inevitable response. A response that Zexion knew she wouldn't like. She stood there, shaking, hating herself more than she had ever hated anyone. More than Larxene, more than Marluxia, even. How could she have let her instincts override her judgment? How many times had Xehanort drilled into her - no, Ienzo - the importance of thinking before acting? Yet she couldn't even live up to that simple standard.

"Science? What's the point? You would never understand! You see, women are emotional, not logical. They don't have the capacity for rational thought." Ienzo's father's voice rose from the distant past. Zexion shook her head, wanting to deny it -

Suddenly Larxene's scent was behind her. Zexion blinked, startled, but didn't have time to react before slim, sharp-nailed hands - when had Larxene removed her gloves? - wrapped around her breasts and squeezed. Zexion writhed, but she couldn't fight against Larxene's cold power. The other girl might've been shorter and slighter than her, but she was a trained fighter with wiry muscles, nothing like soft, anemic Zexion.

"Not a girl?" Larxene hissed into Zexion's ear. Her breath was hot and moist and tinged of lightning. It made Zexion's head spin. "What do you call these, then?"

Her sharp nails dug into Zexion's nipples. Zexion gasped. "N-no - release me, neophyte - "

"'Cause if you're not a girl and you still have boobs this big," Larxene whispered, "I guess that makes me not a girl too!"

"XII, I am warning you - "

Larxene pinched her nipple, cutting off Zexion's words in a sharp gasp. Before a disoriented Zexion could continue speaking - or trying to escape - Larxene's hand ghosted down her chest and stomach and dipped beneath the hem of her skirt - and inside her panties.

"XII! Don't you dare - aughh!" In a single swift motion Larxene tugged her panties down, far enough to expose her shaven pussy. Zexion scratched at Larxene's arm, but Larxene retaliated by snatching her hand and pinning it behind the small of her back. Zexion tried yanking the hand free, but Larxene's grip grew crushingly tight and Zexion knew that if she continued protesting, the Savage Nymph would break her wrist.

"How dare you, how dare you - " Zexion gasped. Larxene had never touched her like this before. The neophyte had beaten her on occasion - even once back when she'd thought Zexion was a boy - but Zexion had never thought to view Larxene as a sexual threat as well. Why should she? From everything she'd gathered, Larxene seemed interested only in men.

But Larxene wasn't doing this to get off, of course. She was doing it to humiliate Zexion.

"If you're not a girl, dear Zexion," Larxene continued, her voice savage with delight, "then what do you call this?"

She reached between Zexion's legs and spread open her pussy. Zexion squirmed when she felt Larxene's cold fingers against the delicate flesh. In all her existence, as both Ienzo and Zexion, only one person had ever touched her down there before. Marluxia. She squirmed and tried to fight the sudden stinging in her eyes. This was humiliating; no, beyond humiliating. For the stupid neophyte to touch her like that -

Larxene giggled into Zexion's ear. "You like this, huh? You're getting wet."

"N-no, I don't - I - release me, I order you - " Zexion sputtered. But Larxene was right, much as it hurt Zexion to admit it. With every touch, with every stroke and pinch, a little hot cinder jumped in the pit of Zexion's stomach. It was growing intolerably hot down there, and she suddenly, foolishly, found herself longing for - for something more than Larxene's icy touch. Zexion forced down the foolish desire as soon as it rose - just as Larxene's finger slipped inside her.

"No! No, no, stop!" Zexion shouted, abandoning any pretense at stoicism. Something akin to panic - not the emotion, but the instincts of a wild animal - seized her. Marluxia had made made it quite clear that he valued her virginity. Every night when she appeared in the penthouse, the first thing he did after he made her undress was spread her legs and look inside to ensure that her hymen was intact. He'd told her that the day the Organization fell to him, he would deflower her in front of Xemnas. "The ultimate poetic justice, isn't it?" he'd told her with a smirk.

But now Larxene was touching her there. Not very deep, admittedly, but Zexion could feel the tips of her sharp nails brush against the barrier...she didn't want to imagine how ridiculously easy it would be for Larxene to penetrate it. Just one push...

"Awww, poor widdle virgin Zexy," Larxene snickered. "I bet this is the deepest anyone has gone inside you, am I right? What a shame...how about I change that?"

"You can't, you c-c-can't," Zexion stammered, redoubling her efforts at escaping. Larxene growled and surged forward and suddenly Zexion found herself pressed against the mirror. The glass was shockingly cold against her body and she whimpered when the fire in her stomach flared in response. "N-no, d-don't - Marluxia, he - "

"Awww, what about Marly? What, you wanted him to be your first time?" Larxene said with a cackle. She slid another finger inside, making Zexion squirm. "How romantic, Zexy!"

"It - it's not that - Larxene, please - "

This had to be the ultimate blow to her pride. Begging Larxene so that she could keep her virginity. A sob welled up in her throat but she bit hard on her tongue, not wanting to make a single noise. Not wanting to betray herself even more. Her pride was all she had left. She would never sacrifice it, not even at the lowest point in all of her pathetic half-existence. She squeezed her eyes shut so she didn't have to see her own desperation reflected back at her.

"Ooh, begging me, huh? Yeah, guess I'd better hurry up and fuck you good, huh, Zexy?" Larxene punctuated her words with a bite on Zexion's earlobe. "Oh, geez, you're so damned wet. It's like you're peeing."

"N-no, stop, stop, I'm begging you, stop - "

The scent of darkness. The sound of a portal whooshing. Then the clinging stench of roses. Heavy steps, and then a voice, chilly and laden with disapproval.

"Just what is going on here?"

Marluxia. Zexion had never thought that she'd be happy to see him, but right now, if she had a heart she thought that she die from joy. Larxene's vice-like grip on her wrist slackened, and her fingers slowly slipped out of her pussy. Zexion was left feeling strangely empty, yet relieved. She slumped against the mirror, her muscles turned to jelly.

For several tense seconds, the only sound in the room was her rapid, shallow breathing, and Marluxia's steps, clicking against the floor, growing ever closer. Larxene stood still as a statue, her expression completely blank. She blinked, however, when Marluxia passed her and instead tapped Zexion lightly on the shoulder.

Zexion swallowed hard. Trembling, half-afraid that he would be angry, she turned around and met his gaze. His expression was pensive, but there was a strange light in his blue eyes - something approaching...kindness? That couldn't be right. He was never kind. He reached out and rubbed the corner of her eye with his thumb, and that was when Zexion realized that tears had been streaming down her face. She swallowed hard, suddenly afraid that she would burst into sobs in front of him.

"It's all right, Zexion," Marluxia said quietly, a gentle caress to his voice. Zexion shivered when his hand moved down to cup her chin. "Tell me - what did she do to you?"

"Oh, come on, Marly!" Larxene shouted, her voice overly loud and raucous. "The little bitch is still a virgin, so don't get your panties in a knot. I was just having a little bit of fun!"

"Fun." Marluxia's voice could freeze fires. "Fun, Larxene? Fun, is it, to break the rules that I expressly created?"

Larxene screwed her face up. "I didn't break any rules, okay? Why don't you look for yourself."

"Thank you for the suggestion," Marluxia said. "I think I will. Zexion?"

No, Zexion wanted to say. No, I don't want anyone looking there ever again. But she couldn't imagine that flying well with him. Already, he was doing her a great favor by actually asking her permission, instead of just forcing her legs open like he usually did. She wondered where this sudden kindness had come from, but then decided to milk it for all it was worth.

She nodded, and Marluxia guided her away from the mirror, his grip on her arms light but powerful. Zexion couldn't think of pulling away, not that she even wanted to. With practiced ease, he pulled her onto his lap so that her bottom was raised in the air. Zexion squirmed, not liking the vulnerability of this position, but she didn't protest aloud even as Marluxia reached between her legs and spread her pussy lips. She shivered when she felt his leather-tipped fingers brush against the sensitive flesh, quite the contrast from Larxene's earlier icy probing.

"Hmm, well, you're off the hook, Larxene," Marluxia said. "Stand, Zexion."

"See?" Larxene said triumphantly. "I didn't do a damned thing wrong!"

"No, actually, you did," Marluxia said. His voice lowered, became dangerous. "It doesn't matter if you didn't actually carry through on your intent - the fact of the matter is that you acted at all. I am most disappointed in you. Now, sit down and don't say a single word."

"Well, geez, you're no fun," Larxene pouted, but she flounced off to the couch anyway and flopped upon it, flipping open her comic book like nothing had happened - although Zexion suspected Larxene was making nasty faces at her from behind the covers. Exactly the silly sort of thing XII would do.

"Zexion, I said you could stand," Marluxia said. "Unless this is an invitation...?"

Heat bloomed in Zexion's face. She'd been so dazed with relief upon Marluxia's pronouncement that she hadn't realized she was still sprawled on his lap, her legs spread wide open so he could see everything. Swallowing hard, she crawled off his lap, readjusted her panties, and squeezed her legs together. Standing was out of the question - she was shaking too hard - so she settled for kneeling on the floor.

"Don't worry." The rose stench drifted closer and a heavy hand rested on her back. She twitched. "Even if you were offering, I would not have accepted. You understand when I will claim you."

Yes, and that day will never happen. She would never say that aloud, of course. If she'd learned anything from today's events - aside from the fact that Larxene was a sadist and Marluxia a creep (which weren't new facts, anyway) - it was that she would have to act with greater prudence in the future. Never let the heat of the moment control her, as it had that morning and just a few minutes ago with Larxene.

That morning. A violent shudder ran down Zexion's spine. Of course. How could she have forgotten? That was the very reason she had ended up here in the first place, dressed up like a schoolgirl and waiting in the Penthouse hours before evening...

Hours? That wasn't right. Larxene's little assault, horrifying as it might have been, certainly had not lasted hours. Then why was Marluxia back so early...?

"M-Marluxia," she stammered, looking up at the Graceful Assassin, who had stood. He wasn't looking at her, but had his arms folded and was gazing pensively at the wall. Dressed in Organization black, standing straight-backed and proud, he bore little resemble to the bathrobe-clad man who lounged so indolently in the Penthouse. "Wh-what are you...what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Marluxia said, turning around to face her. Looking down on her, he appeared even more imposing. A statue viewed from heroic perspective, implacable, unknowable.

So much like the way Ienzo had always viewed Xehanort, looking up from below while he looked down from above...

Zexion swallowed hard. No - she couldn't lose herself in memories of the past. Not now. "I - I wanted - I merely wished to accept my punishment. Earlier as opposed to later."

She realized that what she'd said probably hadn't made much sense. Damn it, where had her skill with words gone? But before she could elaborate, Marluxia spoke, still in that calm, faintly amused tone.

"Trying to appease me, dear Zexion?"

"I - " But she couldn't say anything, because he had spoken true.

"I don't mind." Marluxia laughed. "A fine gesture, I must say - you are only growing more and more obedient, my dear - but understand that it will not lessen your upcoming punishment."

"I understand."

"You understand...?"

Zexion chanced a glance at him; he was looking upon her expectantly, an eyebrow raised. A visceral shudder ran through her, but - but give him what he wants, be obedient - and she batted away the last tatters of her pride and mumbled, "I understand, Superior. You are wise."

Larxene giggled. Marluxia must have thrown her a warning glare because her giggle cut off abruptly, but the damage had been done. Zexion knew she could never look XII in the face again after this - not after XII had finally witnesed the depths to which Zexion would sink.

So be it, Zexion thought bitterly. As long as I turn out alive and relatively unharmed in the end, I do not care how many humiliations I have to go through. This is the price I pay for survival.

"I'm glad you've learned your lesson, Zexion," Marluxia said, though his smile seemed more than a little insincere. "Now, let us hammer that lesson home, shall we?"

He gestured down the hall. Zexion clenched her teeth, forcing feeling back into her legs, and stood. And followed him.

The room Marluxia had chosen was small and plainly furnished; with its cream-painted walls, bouncy waterbed, and warm chestnut writing desk, it looked almost inviting. Only 'almost,' because it was after all a room in the Penthouse, but Zexion had to admit that if she owned a house, she would furnish it in a similar fashion.

Such idle thoughts were driven from her mind when Marluxia gestured lazily towards the bed. Zexion understood what he wanted, and forcing down her reluctance, she crossed the room and sank on her knees on the bed. She linked her fingers in her lap, staring down at them instead of Marluxia. Nonetheless, she couldn't stop smelling or hearing him. He had moved towards the closet, and, from the sound of a jingling zipper and shifting leather, he had begun undressing. When he was in the Penthouse, the Lord of Castle Oblivion rarely stayed in his uniform; he instead maintained a vast selection of casual robes and dressing gowns. Few Nobodies segregated between their 'working' and 'personal' lives - after all, there really wasn't a difference - but Marluxia did so with an almost religious vigor. To him, the Penthouse was his home, the rest of Oblivion a place he merely tolerated to appease the Superior.

But usually Marluxia came to the Penthouse during the nights, after finishing a long day's work patrolling Castle Oblivion. Right now it wasn't even eleven in the morning. Zexion longed to ask him why he'd returned so early, but sensed that he would not want questions now.

Much to her surprise, when Marluxia returned to the bed, he wasn't wearing a robe - he had just removed his coat and gloves. Zexion had seen him naked and shirtless on multiple occasions, but she couldn't help the half-queasy, half-pleasant feeling that seized her stomach when her eyes fell upon his lean yet sculpted torso. Dammit, she did not find him attractive! She would have a much easier time hating him if he were fat and pasty. Then again, she was the Cloaked Schemer, one whose very existence relied on lies - she should know better than to judge a book by its cover.

"My dear Zexion," Marluxia said, sinking on the bed beside her; Zexion wrinkled her nose when his rose stench wafted her way. "I suppose since I'm here and you're here, we ought to get your punishment over with."

"Y-yes, sir," she managed. Then, despite herself, the question burst forth: "Lord Marluxia, if you don't mind my asking, why are you here so early?"

"Hmm?" Marluxia cocked an eyebrow - but thankfully, he didn't look offended. "Well, if you must know, it's all because of that despicable number VIII."

"Axel?" Despite herself, a slight shudder ran down Zexion's spine - she remembered too well how Axel, too, had insulted and defied Marluxia. That idiot...

"He ran into me and was very rude and nosy," Marluxia sniffed. "Interrupted me while I was in the middle of maintaining my gardens, you see. He kept pelting me with question after question, very incoherently. At first I thought he was talking about literature, of all things. He seems to be under the impression that I run a book club." Marluxia laughed, a light, clear sound that raised the hairs on the back of Zexion's neck.

Book club... Well, of course. Zexion had told Axel that she and Marluxia engaged in literary discussions. Oh, if only they did. Marluxia probably didn't think a woman would have the brainpower to discuss literature, Zexion thought sourly Not that she wanted to discuss literature with him anyway.

"Eventually, I came to realize that he wished to obtain access to the Penthouse." Marluxia shook his head. "That fool is too nosy for his own good. Naturally, I rebuffed him, and to keep him from pestering me further, I portalled back here. I couldnt have chosen a luckier time." His lips curved up into a haughty smile - not that Marluxia ever smiled un-haughtily. "So I suppose you have Axel to thank for preserving your virginity."

"I see," Zexion said. Something had tightened in her stomach - not an emotion, of course. But still. Axel, that idiot. After she'd explicitly warned him not to interfere...then again, Axel had never been the type to do what other people told him. Part of what made him so troublesome.

"I'll have to return to my duties soon," Marluxia said, "and you ought to as well. It will look suspicious if we spend all day in the Penthouse."

"So..." Zexion swallowed. "You are going to punish me right now."

"Of course," Marluxia said smoothly. "Come, over my lap."

"Ex-excuse me?" Zexion stammered, wondering if she had misheard.

"Over my lap," Marluxia said again, though with some level of impatience. "Do not try my patience, Zexion."

"Yes, sir," Zexion said without feeling. She had a nasty suspicion of what he wanted to do, but there was no use protesting, was there? It was going to happen whether she wanted it or not. She shuffled across the bed until she was right next to him (it took great effort not to breathe through her nose) and lowered herself reluctantly onto his lap, into the same position she had taken only minutes earlier.

At least this time she was a little less exposed, with the skirt covering her rear and panties still on. Not that Marluxia would allow that situation to last. He lifted the hem of the skirt, rolling it up and tucking it into the waistband, and seconds later tugged her panties down to her knees. She squirmed, instinctively trying to pull away, but he wrapped an arm tightly around her waist, locking her in place.

This position was highly uncomfortable, and more than a little embarrassing. Her rear was raised in his lap, her breasts pressed against the mattress; her hair had spilled free from the bow, blocking her eye again. One small blessing...and not enough. A shiver ran down her spine when Marluxia began stroking her bare skin, from the small of her back down to the middle of her thighs. Pain tingled anew in the mostly healed bruises and weals from yesterday; she realized with a shudder that Marluxia was tracing the patterns of the still-visible belt lashes.

"M-Marluxia," Zexion stammered.

"Marluxia...?" There was a warning in his voice.

"Superior," Zexion amended, resisting the urge to spit the name out.

"Excellent. Remind me why you are being punished."

"B-because I, I physically attacked you. Superior," she quickly added, sensing his increasingly stormy mood.

"Yes. Do good girls attack their lords and Superiors?"

"No, Superior," Zexion hissed. His fingers were wandering dangerously close to her inner thighs, but she couldn't even think to shake them off. A tiny, disgruntled part of her wondered why he wanted to touch her there in the first place; hadn't he gotten a good enough feel earlier? Why was he groping her anyway? He might as well just punish her and get it over with sooner rather than later.

Of course, he was doing all this to build tension, to make Zexion dread and anticipate the coming punishment even more. The worst thing was that it worked.

"I'm glad you've realized that," Marluxia said. "Of course, only a proper punishment will drill the lesson into that thick skull of yours."

Thick skull... He really knew how to hit where it hurt. Any facetious thoughts were driven out of her mind, however, when his hand came whistling down and cracked across her left buttock.

She tensed, gasping, but didn't have time to draw in a full breath before his hand came down again, on the opposite cheek. And again, and again and again. His strength and stamina was phenomenal - he kept up a merciless tattoo of blows without pause and without flagging in strength. If anything, each strike was harder than the last. Soon all the old bruises stung and burned again, and new agony blossomed every time his hand impacted her skin. Marluxia didn't need a belt or whip to hurt; just his bare hands were enough. By the time he'd completed a full circuit from the crown of her bottom to her upper thighs, she had given up any pretense at stoically bearing the punishment. She writhed, gasped, kicked, squirmed, groaned, did anything to try to shake him off, but the arm around her waist was like an iron clamp and when she tried to move her hands down there to block his blows, he expertly trapped them under that arm, so they were pinned, quite uncomfortably, to the small of her back.

It was no mercy at all when Marluxia spanked her with just his hand - if anything, Zexion hated it even more than when he used the belt or another implement. At least during those punishments she got to bend over a couch, and there was always a slight - very slight, but still existent - sense of dignity in receiving the belt. She could think of it as a 'beating,'but this - on Marluxia's lap, dressed like a schoolgirl, his bare hand smacking against her bottom - could be nothing but a spanking. A spanking like a little girl got from her father.

Worse, in this position, she could feel his hard-on pressed uncomfortably against her thigh...

He completed a second circuit around her rear, finishing with a rapid series of sharp blows to the meatiest part of her body, where her buttocks met her thighs. The flesh jiggled under Marluxia's palm; a furious heat rose in her face.

"Nghhh Marluxia please stop it hurts," she was babbling. "Please please please I'm sorry I've learned my lesson - "

"I'm sure you have," Marluxia said in a tone of utmost irony, punctuating his words with a smack to her thigh. "But if you really have learned, you would not have attacked me in the first place."

"P-please I c-can't control - "

Too late, Zexion swallowed down the rest of that sentence. She froze, stiffening in horror - bad idea, since her increased tension made his next blows hurt more. And then he stopped. Zexion knew she ought to be relieved, even as fresh pain seared down her lower body, but she also knew that Marluxia had not intended on ending the punishment that early. She squirmed in his lap, terrified and uncertain. Damn her and her big mouth; it had gotten her into trouble in the first place, though in that case she could blame Axel for instigating the incident.

"You can't control yourself, can you?" Marluxia said. "Interesting. Of course. What is a Nobody without any self control?"

Zexion knew the answer; every member of the Organization did. Xemnas reminded them of it every chance he could get. A Dusk.

Zexion didn't speak; she had nothing to say in her defense. "It is very hard to control oneself, isn't it?" Marluxia continued. "So very, very hard...when you want so badly to give in to your basest instincts, when you think nothing could be worth holding back and watching yourself, when you just want something with all your soul..."

He words brushed over the back of her neck, soft as a silk curtain. He brought his hand to her bottom again, but not to hit; instead, he rubbed circles into the soft flesh, numbing the burning slightly. It was almost gentle, but Zexion had long learned not to accept gentleness from Marluxia - or at least, not to accept it without first learning his ulterior motives. Her breathing came in rapid, shallow gasps. Something terrible was coming but she had no idea what...

Marluxia removed his arm from her back, releasing her hands as he did so - Zexion had no time to register the change before he pushed her off his lap altogether. Winded and confused, she lay flat on the mattress. But then, before she could regain her bearings, Marluxia gripped her thighs and spread her legs wide open.

"Ahh - n-no - "

"Shush," Marluxia said. His tone was commanding, not comforting. "To want something so badly...it burns me, do you know, Zexion? It practically tears me apart. Every day I see you naked and vulnerable and I cannot do the one thing I wish to do above all." His finger roughly prodded her pussy, making her gasp. "Do you know how often I dream of it? The moment I pin you down and put myself inside you and make you mine entirely? I dream of it. I dream of flooding your insides with my essence. Filling your womb. I want you to be mine, Zexion."

His voice was low, silky - dangerous. A predator surveying its prey. The finger in her pussy twisted, then pushed; Zexion suppressed a groan. "But alas, I cannot. Because of the limitations that I have set for myself. Every time I look at you, I fight a powerful battle inside my mind. Oh, how easy it would be to climb on top of you" - the finger pushed - "and take you. You would not be able to fight back. It would be so easy...but it would mean that I have lost. My intellect will have lost against my instincts."

He traced her pussy lips before removing his finger, and sat down on the bed beside her. Zexion couldn't think to move. She drew her legs together, but she didn't remove herself from the bed. Could only lie there with her cheek pressed against the mattress, staring in wonder and fear at the Graceful Assassin. The Graceful Assassin, his hands clasped over his knee and his gaze distant and pensive. He had never looked so regal before, so mysterious. So...alluring.

Heat flared between her legs, and on her face at the same time. Damn her, thinking about such things even now...

"You are the Cloaked Schemer, Zexion. The Superior's third in command. I think you should understand what I am saying."

"Yes," Zexion said, very slowly. "I do."

He turned towards her, smiling. "So, remember, my dear. It's only my self control that keeps me from ravaging you this instant. Perhaps you ought to cultivate some yourself."

Don't you dare lecture me, Zexion thought, but what stung the most was that he was right. He had said nothing that she - or at least, her higher intellect - did not already know. So why did she always give in to her visceral urges? Attacking Marluxia, for instance. That had been satisfying for a few too-short seconds, but had been, from a logical standpoint, a terrible decision.

"Of course, it is harder for me," sighed Marluxia, looking pensive again. "For you, it's just a matter of learning to be more courteous and thoughtful, isn't it?" (No, it wasn't) "But for me...you see, I am a man, and you are a woman. As such, it's only natural that my first, deepest instinct is to desire your body. And sometimes...men cannot control that instinct. When that happens, the man is often branded with the label 'rapist' by an unsympathetic society - "

"Are you saying," Zexion cut in bitingly, "that taking a woman against her will does not constitute rape?"

His gaze flickered towards her, sharp but mercifully free of anger. If anything, he looked intrigued. Zexion didn't know what to do with this new side of Marluxia, so she waited for him to speak. The first thing a schemer did: watch and wait.

"It does not," Marluxia said, "if the woman belongs to him."

"Even if she doesn't express consent?"

"Are you talking about you? But the fact that you belong to me is consent enough, isn't it?" His hand flickered towards her face, brushing stray strands of hair out of her eyes; it felt kind of nice, especially after the hard spanking earlier, though she would never admit it. "Anyhow, this is pointless, because I already promised not to use you that way until - "

"Until Xemnas falls, yes. But - but I didn't consent to belong to you - "

"But you do, and that is your reality," Marluxia said in a tone of flat finality. "Of course, it's different if I take another man's woman. I would call that rape. After all, I would be defiling his property without his permission."

Zexion sighed and turned away from him, though he continued stroking her hair. It was no use; he and her came from completely different backgrounds. How could she debate with him? He didn't even take her seriously in the first place. She wondered why he'd decided to talk about this with her; normally he didn't even like having discussions. He just said things and waited for his girls to agree.

"Zexion, get up on your knees on the bed, but keep your face down."

"Ex - excuse me?" Zexion had been so caught up in her thoughts that Marluxia's next order took her by complete surprise. She stared up at him, confused; he offered her an unpleasant little smile before smacking her, not hard but not gently either, on the thigh. Pain flared anew across the delicate skin, making her squirm.

Zexion was already sick of spreading her legs and letting others have their way with her most private parts, but she could see no way out of this situation, so she hastened to obey. Before she moved, though, Marluxia put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Oh, and kindly remove your blouse as well, dear."

"V-very well," Zexion said. She knew full well what was coming next - what had been coming ever since Marluxia had started blathering about his desire to rape her, come to think of it. She undid the buttons and, despite herself, breathed in relief when her breasts bounced free from the constricting material. Marluxia sidled over and pulled her skirt and panties down and completely off, leaving her naked except her stockings. Somehow, she found the situation a bit more acceptable than the previous one, where she'd been dressed like a schoolgirl and bent over Marluxia's lap. At least she wasn't wearing a ridiculous costume anymore.

"Beautiful," Marluxia murmured, sweeping his eyes over her with naked greed. "Such a lovely body...it's amazing you haven't yet lost your virginity. Can you blame a man if he wishes to use you?"

"Yes, because it's his prerogrative to maintain his self control, not mine," Zexion snapped. Marluxia laughed and stroked the side of her face - before his hand moved down to cup her breast. Zexion stiffened automatically, trying not to react as he squeezed and stroked the smooth sphere. Soon his free hand rose and began groping her other breast; she turned away from him, breathing fast, not wanting him to see the blush coloring her face.

He pinched her nipples - little cinders flared in her stomach - before removing her hands and patting the bed beside him. Zexion sighed, understanding what he desired, and pressed her face against the mattress and pulled herself up to her knees so her bottom was raised in the air. She heard a zipper opening, and then Marluxia approached from behind. His hands rested on her ass cheeks, gently squeezing the still-tender flesh; Zexion hissed.

She heard the clicking of a jar opening and then the clinical scent of lube filled the air. Seconds later something cool and slick and thoroughly uncomfortable pressed against her asshole - Marluxia's lubed fingers. A brief protest flickered through Zexion's mind, but it was gone as soon as it had arrived. Marluxia's fingers slipped inside, past the ring of muscle and into the tight inner passage. Zexion ground her back teeth together, determined not to show any pain. Still, she'd be lying if she said it didn't hurt. It'd been a while since Marluxia had done this to her...

"My, you're rather tight," Marluxia said. He wriggled his fingers; Zexion felt every motion, felt his nails digging into her tender inner walls. She wanted to tell him to stop, but logically knew that what was coming would be much bigger; if she hoped to survive it, she would have to let him stretch her as wide as he could. Nonetheless, that didn't stop her from hissing when he began scissoring his fingers, pushing her walls uncomfortably out and apart and coating every inch with lube.

Then he pulled his fingers out, one by one, stroking the rim of Zexion's now marginally wider entrance as he withdrew. Zexion pressed her face against the mattress, feeling strangely empty - but not for long.

Marluxia's hands clamped down hard on her buttocks, reigniting the fire from the spanking, and something hard and throbbing and wet pressed against her open asshole. She tensed. No, no, no - don't do this -

"Shh, relax," Marluxia said, his voice deceptively gentle - but Zexion knew not to expect true gentleness from him. "If you tense, it will only hurt more."

"I - I know, but - " Zexion's voice came out a ragged whisper.

"Dear Zexion," Marluxia murmured, "do you wish for me to do this?"

Zexion froze. Was she hallucinating, or had he...had just asked for her consent? He never did. Whether it came to raping her or beating her or making her service him. He just assumed he had every right to order her about, because she belonged to him. She hadn't even thought he knew what consent meant.

No, he didn't mean it. He was trying to manipulate her, but for whatever end she didn't know. Something to do with their earlier conversation, she suspected - perhaps to punish her for her supposed impudence? Interesting that he would choose a psychological approach when he was really was a man who preferred physical action. He had asked her a question, a fairly simple one; but the answer, Zexion suspected, would determine whether the coming fuck would hurt - or be excruciating.

Which was the right answer? It could go either way, knowing him...

"I'm waiting," Marluxia said, infusing his voice with a hint of impatience.

Zexion decided To hell with it, and stated the truth in as steady a voice as she could manage. "No. I do not."

The words hung in the air for a fraction of a second. Then Marluxia's hands sunk down, claw-like, into the soft flesh of her bottom - she hissed - and before she knew what was happening he had thrust deep inside.

"That's too bad," he hissed. "It doesn't matter whether you want it or not. Do you understand? No matter what, I have the power to do whatever I like to you."

"Y-yes sir!" Zexion gasped without thinking - she couldn't think at all through the blinding pain. He'd stretched her but that wasn't enough, not when his massive cock was forcing her insides wider open than she could bear. And he still pushed deeper in, pushing and pushing and not caring how much he strained her already stretched-to-the-limit muscles...

"Ahh, M-M-Marluxia," Zexion blubbered without thinking. Tears choked her throat, burned behind her eyes - she writhed and squirmed and tried to pull away from Marluxia but there was no escape. Her world was pain, pain upon pain upon pain. The burn of his fingers digging into her injured skin. The stinging of the tears at the corners of her eyes. And the agony of that horrid hard mass inside her, pushing insistently, thrusting too fast a rhythm. "M-Marluxia please - "

"Superior," Marluxia growled.

"S-S-S-Superior - please - stop, I'm begging you - "

"What happened to the calm, logical Cloaked Schemer?" Marluxia's voice was a vindictive growl. "Well, I suppose he never existed."

Zexion screamed aloud as he seized her hips and yanked her up backwards, so that she was now sitting in his lap. In this new position, gravity pushed her down on his cock, so that she unwillingly took even more of it inside, all the way up to his balls. She thought she would tear apart. She threw her head back, crying out, and Marluxia took the opportunity to bite, hard, on her exposed throat.

"H-help - help me - Xehanort please save me - "

It was excruciating, his balls slamming against her sore buttocks and that awful thing inside - nothing had ever hurt so much -

He clamped her hard as he came, flooding her insides with hot cum. It burned like lye against her torn, sore flesh. Somehow, she suspected that not all of the liquid that came dribbling out down her thighs was cum.

"Dead men can't save you, Zexion," Marluxia breathed in her ear. His rose scent flooded her in a disorienting haze. "No one can. You brought this upon yourself."

He thrust twice more to ride out his orgasm - liquid squelched as he moved - and then, dispassionately, pulled his rapidly deflating cock out. He released her as he did so, and she collapsed bonelessly against the bed.

"Zexion," he said as he zipped up his pants. "I have a question for you, if you don't mind."

Zexion couldn't have replied even if she wanted to; her throat was still tight and sore from screaming and her chest heaved with deep, ragged breaths. It didn't matter, since Marluxia continued as if he hadn't expected an answer.

"Tell me this, Zexion: did I just rape you?"

Zexion's first instinct was to answer yes - who the hell would dispute that! She'd even said no! - but thankfully logic kicked in before instinct. Swallowing down her revulsion, she whispered, "N-no."

"And why is that?" Marluxia's tone was perfectly pleasant, as if he were discussing the weather. He was now occupied with sliding back into his coat.

"B-because," Zexion managed to force out, "I...I b-belong to y-you. And b-because I be...belong to you...c-consent is...implicit."

Marluxia laughed, a low, delighted sound that raised the hairs on the back of Zexion's neck. "Excellent. You're learning. You always learn. Not quickly enough, unfortunately, but nonetheless, you do. This is a good sign, Zexion. It means that one day - however long it will take to get there - you will be a good girl. An excellent servant, an excellent companion.

"Oh, and one more thing?" as he paused in front of the door, now fully dressed again and looking as proud and unruffled as if nothing had happened. "Do not invoke the names of ghosts. It's bad luck."

His coat swirled around him as he turned, and the door clicked softly shut. Zexion was left alone in the room, sprawled in a helpless heap on the bed and shaking from furious sobs. Everything - everything below her waist was a mass of pain. She didn't want to think about it, didn't want to think about anything.

Weak, you are weak, a voice whispered in her ears, and too her horror, she could not tell if it was hers, Marluxia's...or Xehanort's.

Yeah...that was something, all right. If you feel up to it, send a review my way. Even if it's to rant at me for being a horrible person.

If I continue this (and there is no guarantee I will; these chapters take a lot out of me), rest assured that Zexion will (finally) be showing some badassery soon. And the AkuZeku thread will finally begin to move.

Umm...hope you enjoyed? *scurries away*