A/N: WARNING: Rape. Deviant sex. Mind games. You have been warned. I don't own Skip Beat.

Hello Kitty

The opening scene is Tokyo Hotel, with its unmatched facilities and luxurious "amenities". The opening character is the birthday boy, who's turned 20 according to his manager and 17 according to his beloved rival.

To his credit, Fuwa Shou lacked the indignities of the typical drunk. His gait, however abrupt, followed a relatively straight, sober line. He still maintained the undeniable presence of glamor and none of the staff questioned him because he was the superstar.

Fuwa Shou, the superstar, had the key in his hand. It was a wisp of platinum stuck fast to his skin through sweat and booze.

The mystery gift lain for him to unwrap beckoned to him through the door.

He'd taken the key but trashed the note that read: "For a happy birthday party, please come with me..." What followed was an address and a room number. No signature. Fuwa Shou wasn't stupid. He could scent a trap ready to spring on him, but Shouko's lectures and precautions had worsened as he got older- he was supposed to be less like a kid, damn it.

Fuwa Shou flicked the card carelessly aside after kicking down the door.

He tensed, instinctively bracing for knuckles to his gut or a bat to his knees.

A mewling sound greeted him in the dark. His eyes, aided by the illuminating smog of the city, settled on the bed. It was a young girl on her knees. Her bare arms bore silk ties firmly knotted to the headboard and the rest of her was hidden by a yukata thrown carelessly over her back.

"Hello kitty," Shou purred. He went to the bed and lifted the yukata to inspect the goods. She was scrawnier than what he preferred, but everything was tight. With the yukata bunched over her spine, Shou gave his gift an experimental smack on the ass.

It was a fine ass, by the sounds of it. And no one had a better ear than Fuwa Shou.

"I'm going to leave the gag," he told her, kicking off his pants easily. He'd gone commando in some wild times of the afternoon, and his shirt had mysteriously lost its buttons over the course of his birthday celebration.

Fuwa Shou always requested older women with stacked bodies. "Just send me someone like you, Shouko," he'd joke and then he'd grab at the magic tits, which was the quickest way to a smacked hand.

Shou also liked them quiet, none of the moaning performances to jar his sensitive hearing. He wondered how his benefactor foresaw his preference. Usually it was tits, and unfortunately a mouth to match. And then Shou would have to blast music to finish up. And here, in the dark and the quiet, a stack of condoms and a little travel bottle of lube were provided for his use.

He climbed onto the bed and gripped the twin moons peaking at him through the yukata. She bucked wildly and Shou released the breath he'd been holding in as her ass ground into his cock. Unbidden, an image of his prim mother, robed modestly in her garden, popped into his head. He growled, and ripped off the traditional yukata, whipping it to the ground as though it were a trash bag, as though it was the childhood he'd never asked for. They'd wanted him to settle with a good girl with the body of a floorboard; he was going to fuck a call girl.

He squeezed her ass, knowing the shadow of his grip would linger in the morning, and raised her hips before slamming in. Passion and sex. No matter how many times he'd buried himself, he'd never get tired of coming. Another forced pant. She was unbelievably tight, and not as wet as he'd expected, although the stench of her hole invaded his senses.

'But she's not screaming,' Shou figured, quite forgetting the gag.

He reached both arms around her; one hand clasped her breast and the other fingered her clit. She jolted him with another wild thrust as though he'd pressed an "on" button.

"I don't do fish," he rasped, grinding into her. "C'mon babe, work that fine ass." He slapped her and her body clenched around him, almost forcing him out. Shou thought his eyes might have crossed but he held back the tides overtaking his body.

She liked being hurt, did she? He sank into her, down to the hilt, and hammered away, not slowing or making sorry noises when he spanked her or pinched her nipple or twisted her clit. At each of his punishments, her body convulsed marvelously as though it tried to imprison him but he slipped out each time for his next assault. The stench of her intensified and Shou realized triumphantly that her juices ran down his thigh. He smeared his fingers in it and squeezed her ass again, imagining how in full lighting his slick hand print would show.

Abruptly, his fingers tangled in her short, bleached hair and he yanked her head back several times. She thrust back many times in defense, as though trying to get him off for good. Shou's mouth gaped open as he slumped over her. His dry lips and steamy breath rested on her dewy neck.

Their bodies fit like happy newlyweds.

That thought had Shou pulling out in no time. His eyes landed disdainfully on the condoms. No way. But Shouko would take his head off (or both heads!) if she had to budget for child support. The thought made him soft, but the pressure was still in his balls.

Feverishly, he grabbed at the lube, looking for the symbol for "SPERMICIDE." No luck. His eyes were once again drawn to the woman wriggling underneath him. He was drawn to that firm, supple- He didn't resist the impulse to pinch her.

"I'm nicer than most Johns," Shou drawled. "Cuz I'm giving you a heads up that I'm into anal."

The effect was instantaneous. She ripped one of the silk ties with a sudden Herculean effort, but he twisted her arm to her back before she could free herself. And while doggy-style was definitely a treat, he preferred a woman on her back. With only one silken tie intact, he flipped her easily. Shou frowned down at the panic evident in her heavily made-up eyes. Usually, he didn't do faces either but something about the eyeshadow, blush, and the lipstick- they formed a cheap mask. He reached for the discarded yukata and swabbed at her, taking off the first several layers.

Ah, now he could see her eyes smoldering like amber in the streetlights. They were like tigress eyes-angry. They were familiar, like a challenge tossed at his head long ago. He saw Kyouko, angry and powerless to stop him from what he was doing. Shou shrugged off the deja vu and got to work with the lube. He squeezed a generous amount on her shaven privates. He heard her suck in her breath, despite the gag.

He ground his head into her clit, the heated rush of their blood warming up the cold lube. Shou was tempted to screw himself and lose it in the folds of her pussy, but he'd already announced his filthy intentions. He made her grip him, smearing the lube over every hot inch of him. But before she clenched lethally, he guided her hand to her own clit.

"Finger yourself," Shou spat. While she was degraded and caught off-guard, he began the slow work of rolling and pushing his fingers into her ass. Her throat worked violently, as though she were screaming. He ordered her to keep touching herself. It wasn't working. He could barely get one finger in past his nail. Ah, but her tightness was too promising.

With his middle finger still up her ass, Shou thrust into her pussy, spreading her thighs as far apart as they would go, and working his hips in slow, burning circles on her clit. His voice sang out a litany of pleads and threats and promises and she shut away her tiger eyes and arched and opened herself to Shou.

Before he knew it, his finger was all the way in. Shou gave her a rare smile as he pinned her down and tortured her with her own longing. He was wiping out her humiliation and hatred with his pleasure. Before she knew it, he'd slipped out and stuffed himself into her other hole. In spite of the lube and her juices, his pleasure burned into the most shameful part of her.

Shou gritted his teeth as he inched and pushed without hurting her. Woman blood had never turned him on. But woman tears had never stopped him. He did what he could, kissing her wet cheeks and shushing the sobs that heaved her breasts. When it was clear that he wasn't backing out, she surrendered and Shou fell all the way into her. He threw her ankles over his buff shoulders, lifted her off the bed, and pounded her with no more pretenses.

And if he would've ignored her, she might have accepted him using her like this. But his hand rubbed her clit and teased her sensitive skin, and so she couldn't ignore his triumph. Whenever she could block him out with the pain, he reeled her in again with the pleasure he forced on her. Nothing hurt more than what he was doing, but she wanted to watch him collapse. She heard his breathing hitch and felt his body lose pace and when he released, she clamped herself all around him. This was the only way she could topple him.

He didn't holler her name or grunt piggishly as she expected. She could only tell that he collapsed because of the tremors all over his body and his breath on her sweat.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," he kissed into her breasts.

They groaned as he pulled himself up. He made a face at the fluids caked onto himself, and she wanted to scream her indignity as he wiped cum and shit and virginity off on her damp thigh. But he sort of redeemed himself by untying her other hand and brushing his lips against her wrist. She'd lain there, seeing the lights crowning Fuwa Shou's golden hair. Some prince he was, ignoring a damsel's cries to stop please don't Shou.

And if she'd been in any condition to move, she would have murdered him quickly. Instead of the gut-wrenching demise she'd planned, she was forced to lay there long after Shou threw a stack of money on her navel, long after Shou strutted out with his clean dick, and just before her kidnapper punched in the code for the door and smiled wolfishly.

Her kidnapper flicked on the light.

The first thing he saw was her dark aura, highlighting the milky twists of her bruised skin and the cum on her ass and on her swollen nipples. The first thing she saw was herself in the mirror. Mogami Kyouko, stupid and helpless and weak. Stupid enough to be taken by the likes of Reino. Helpless as he stripped her, shaved her, and trussed her for show. Too weak to save herself from her prince.

"He broke you cruelly," Reino sighed, picking up the red yukata with lavishly embroidered demon wards. He draped it around her protectively; removed the gag and the silk trailing off her wrists.

"I would never hurt you like that, you see," he crooned. His pristine white hands cupped her hot cheek as he bent and kissed her lips chastely. "I love you, Kyouko."