Gloria Victis

Thank you Evermist, as always, for your review. I swear, they're what keeps me going...

CHAPTER 4
SUBORDINATION

Just over four months had passed, and by the end of that time, they were relocating every few days. The first few times, Mello had been heavily sedated, though it was apparent by the end of the second month that he had truly convinced himself that he was in L's care, and so would not argue when the brunette told him to get up and leave. The teen made no attempt to escape his handcuffs, didn't complain about the blindfolds. If L said it was important for his safety, then he believed him.

Each hideout was nearly identical to the last, and B always made sure to copy everything as closely as he could. It made Mello feel safe, secure, at home. They had to be running, of course, because Beyond Birthday was close on the hunt for Mello and L. We could not have that, now could we? The child had stopped asking why, after the last time. He had been beaten so badly that he was unable to walk for several days, had to be carried to the bathroom even. Of course, that was his own fault. He would not make the mistake of upsetting his lover twice. L was under so much stress, and was only doing what was necessary to protect them both. How could he have been so blind?

For the first few months, Mello was kept in the bedroom, only let out to use the bathroom, and even then he was never alone. B always followed close behind, usually keeping the boy's hands cuffed behind his back, or chaining their wrists together if the older man was feeling adventurous. The blond was also kept nude for the majority of each day, only getting dressed when they moved to a new home. B had just begun bringing him some books, though he was not allowed to hold them himself, the brunette would read to him whenever he pleased. It was so kind, so generous. It warmed Mello's heart to know that his lover cared so much for him that he would spend his precious time entertaining him.

By the middle of their third month together, Beyond had come up with a wonderful idea, a gift for his lover. He brought in a plastic bag behind his back one night, waking Mello earlier than usual to present the package. "Love? Come on sweetheart. I have something very special for you. You may open it now, though."

"Is it my birthday?" The blond gave a flirtatious smile, wriggling his hips as best he could, though his wrists and ankles were still restrained as usual. "Did you bring a new toy?" The last time B had brought in a gift, it had been a metal choker chain, which was now a regular part of their sex life. The brunette had said that it felt better when Mello was gasping for air, made those special muscles that belonged only to him spasm and squeeze around his dick in the most pleasurable of ways. The blond had found that a lack of oxygen heightened his own orgasm, and regularly thanked his master and complimented him for his genius in coming up with the idea.

"Yes, it is your birthday. Though I am uncertain who will enjoy the gift more." Beyond went to work at removing Mello's restraints, though the blond whined over it the entire time. "Poor baby. Don't worry, master will give them back soon." He helped the teen stand, patient while he steadied his weakened legs. They still shook when the brunette let go, removing the items from their bag. He produced two pieces of shiny black fabric, carefully unfolding them on the bed. "Happy fifteenth, love. Give us your leg. There, that's a good boy." They had to lay the teen on the bed to pull the leather pants up his skinny legs. The waistband barely made it up over his ass, and he knew that if he were to sit up in them, he would no doubt flash. Not that that mattered, only L would see anyway. The older man carefully tied the laces, then retrieved a matching vest. "Arms above your head now." The vest was zipped, the bottom of it ending right above his belly button. Mello was not used to wearing clothes now, and felt a little insecure, a little less pretty with the shiny tight leather around him, even though it covered very little.

"Do I look pretty?" The teen turned around, wriggling his hips, sliding his hand over his exposed stomach. He unzipped the leather vest halfway, exposing his chest, hand darting inside to slide over and pinch a nipple. "Cause, if I don't, they can come back off. I'm not cold or anything." Mello's hand went to the laces of the leather pants, tugging the bow loose, but his hand was soon slapped away. "Thank you. It's a lovely birthday present. How may I thank you, master?"

"Mello is welcome. It is very sexy. You don't have to take it off. But I know a way you can thank me." B smiled suggestively, and Mello dropped to his knees without so much as a moment’s hesitation. He was a good boy; he’d been trained well. His hands automatically went behind his back, and he turned his head up to pout at the brunette. "You miss your cuffs, baby? Such a good boy, I don't even have to remind you anymore." The blond nodded, remaining where he sat while the older man went for the handcuffs, kneeling behind him, the metal enclosing tightly around his wrists, digging in just like he desired. There was faint scarring around each wrist already, and more raw skin above that. Many of his wounds were like that, in a constant state of healing and reopening, bleeding and scarring.

"Thank you." The older man patted the teen on the top of his head, running his fingers though the newly trimmed and washed blond locks. There was some dried blood at the back, from the shower that morning, and the older man wondered if the child might have a concussion. "Mello received quite an injury to his head this morning. There will be no sleep tonight, just to be safe." The teen was already undoing the button of the brunette's jeans, skillfully using his teeth for both that and to pull down the zipper. "We will have to find a way to entertain ourselves."

Mello blushed, licking at the tip of his lover's dick, smiling with pride when the older man moaned and took a handful of his hair. It felt so good to be wanted, to be needed. He knew L would never leave, because he could make him feel so good, and he was such a good boy. L had said it himself. As long as he was a good boy for his master, he could always be the favorite pet, the only pet. "I'm being spoiled." The teen winked, before taking B's dick into his mouth, willing his throat to open up, allowing the man to slowly thrust into him, use him like some kind of cheap sex doll.

"Yes, well, it is Mello's birthday." The blond could already feel his lover's body spasming, his knees wobbling. When he came, the blond gratefully swallowed. "You're getting better every day, sweetheart."

"Thank you." Beyond pulled the teen up, walking him to the bed. The new clothes weren't the only toys that he had bought, and he intended to use as many as he could. It would be a long night, after all. "Now, first things first, I hope Mello didn't think that just because it's his birthday he doesn't have to take his medicine." The boy was laid on the bed, handcuffs removed again. "I know Mello hates to take them off, but he knows that it is necessary."

"Yes, thank you master. I want my medicine please." The boy held out his arm, already littered with little scars and holes from the injections. The first few times had made him terribly sick later, especially when he was bad and wasn't fed. Now if he went for more than a few hours without a dose, he began to sweat, to feel nauseous. He obviously needed it more than he thought. He was even beginning to like the feeling of the needle piercing his flesh. It made him think of how L would pierce him with other things. Mello's shiny new leather pants were becoming tight around an erection, as B fastened a belt around his arm, just above his elbow, pulling it tight, cutting off the circulation. "I didn't have it yet today."

"Yes you did, you were just sleeping baby. I would never forget to give it to you." It was over quickly, the effects making themselves known almost immediately, the dizziness already fleeing after just a few minutes. It had felt like he hadn't yet, Mello was sure that he hadn't, but if L said he gave it to him, then he did. Maybe he was just metabolizing it faster these days. Though it must still be working, he was already feeling calmer, relaxed. "There, that better?" The belt was undone, though placed close on the bed while the handcuffs were fastened again.

"Mmhmm." Mello's eyelids were getting heavy. His medicine didn't make him sleepy anymore, so it must be the injury to his head that morning. Not that he would have minded doing it again. "Are we going to make love now? I'm so tired." Beyond went back to the bag, bringing a small square of chocolate, a rare treat, which the blond accepted, letting it melt in his mouth before swallowing.

"Soon, love. But we're going to play a game first. Turn over." The blond had been expecting this, as his cuffs had been done around the front for once, and did was he was told. He pressed his head into a pillow, bent his knees under himself so that his hips were in the air, waiting. He heard the belt come crashing down before it snapped against his lower back, against the exposed flesh. A second later, it snapped against the backs of his thighs, then against his ass, his lower back again.

"Please, master." The next hit, against the blonde's shoulders, was harder, and had him crying out in pain. Even with his medicine coursing through his veins he felt the full force of it. "Please?"

"What do you want, angel?" The belt was cast aside, the blond turned over. Automatically, he raised his arms above his head, though the older man left them as they were. The teen cast his eyes down to his lap, and raised an eyebrow, stuck out his lower lip. "You want me to fuck you?" The teen nodded. "Mello looks so beautiful in his clothes, I hate to remove them."

"Please?" The blond lowered his hands again, fumbling at the laces of his pants. When his fingers brushed over his clothed erection, he sighed, eyes closing. B slapped him hard.

"I knew Mello couldn't behave. That's alright, I've thought of a wonderful new punishment for him." Mello's pants were undone, slid over his hips and carefully laid on a nearby chair. The brunette left the room, returning with yet another new toy. "The rules are simple. Mello is already familiar with them, I think. If you don't come, if you listen like a good boy, I'll fuck you. If you do, I'll leave you all by yourself. You don't want that, do you?" The blond shook his head. "That's what I thought. Now, spread those pretty legs for me. Good boy." There was no preparation before the vibrator was shoved in his ass, but that's the way Mello liked it now. He'd screamed and cried the first few times, but had quickly learned that that upset his lover. L liked it better when there wasn't any lube. It felt better for him, and he was master, so the blond had to learn to like it too. His medicine helped a lot. Besides, the blood was all the lube either of them needed.

"What's that for?" The teen saw the remote in B's hands only seconds before he pressed the button. There was a muffled buzzing noise, then the toy began to vibrate, and it was just big enough that it pressed against that spot that he had to beg his lover to hit when he was inside him. "Oh, god, stop. Please, I'm going to come. Please. Please stop."

"You won't. I told you not to." The toy kept vibrating against Mello's prostate. He crossed his legs, uncrossed them, twisted and turned on the bed, trying to escape the pleasure that was going to get him in so much trouble. If only he could hold out for a little while, but it felt so good. No! L would be so mad. He had to be a good boy. Had to. He raised his arms above his head, gripping a post in the headboard.

Beyond sat down beside teen, watching him writhe and beg. The toy would only stop if he pressed the button, but had yet to do so. Then Mello turned towards him, head in his nude lap, licking and nipping at his thigh. "May I?" The brunette nodded, and Mello expertly sucked him to the second orgasm that night. "Please?"

Beyond pressed the red button then, and the buzzing stopped. The blond visibly relaxed, though he was still breathing with short little gasps, chest rising and falling. The brunette touched a bite mark around one of the boy's nipples, and the teen moved closer to him, practically purring. "This one's healing nicely, don't you think? I always hate to see them go. I would like to leave something a little more permanent. What do you think? It's Mello's birthday, after all. Would he like that?"

"Yes, master."

The older man went to work, carefully laying out the tools. He had been planning this for quite some time. "Mello's body does not quite match his new outfit, I think. There needs to be more...decoration. In my opinion." There was a single hollow needle, laid on a cloth on the bedside table, as well as two tiny silver barbells. "This will hurt, I promise. Mello will love it."

Yes, the blond nodded, he would. He always loved when master hurt him. It was just another way to show him how much he was loved. An eraser was held against one side of the first nipple, while the needle was pressed into the other side. The blond took a deep breath, watching it make it's way through the sensitive flesh. The barbell was pushed through the hollow end of the needle. Then the process was repeated on the other side. The second time hurt more, and the blond moaned in encouragement. "Thank you."

"So pretty. We can make love now, sweetheart. Mello is so perfect." The toy was removed then, set aside for another night. "Stay on your back, love. I want to be able to look at those pretty new piercings. Baby, feeling that needle go into you was almost better than fucking you." The faint traces of saliva and come on B's dick were more than the usual lubrication he used, and he was in so much easier this time. He must have been pleased, Mello thought, because he thrust against the teen's prostate, whispering that he could come now, fingers tugging on one of the piercings, and the blond thanked him when he complied.

"I love you L. You love me too?"

"Of course. Mello is mine." Those three last words had become familiar now, and the blond needed to hear them more than he needed to hear how pretty he was, or how loved he was. Nothing was better in the whole world than being owned by his lover. "Mello will always be mine."

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More weeks and months passed, holidays came and went in the same fashion that Mello's birthday had. Though the regular doses of his 'medicine' never stopped, the blond was assured that he was getting better each day. Of course, he had been so traumatized by the obsession that their pursuer had had on him, and the constant running and changes homes, that it was going to take quite awhile for him to be well again. However, he was now trusted enough to walk around most of the rooms in the house, though he was to stay away from where computers and televisions were kept. He could watch his own television in his room, or listen to music on the laptop that didn't have an Internet connection. Mello was very grateful for the freedom, and did his best to be a good boy.

Mello had very little say in what their sex life entailed, but recently he had been allowed to make some small suggestions. These were considered lessons, a way to expand his mind other than through books and prerecorded television programs. They were right in the middle of a lesson on 'healthy' practices for sadism and masochism, the older man taking up a chair beside the bed that the boy was handcuffed to, picking out sections to read aloud here and there, but mostly quietly studying by himself. They were currently having a discussion on the chapter of branding, when Mello dared to make a suggestion of his own.

"I want you to mark me." Beyond set the book down, raising an eyebrow. There was a fresh tattoo on the inside of one of the boy's wrists, a large black 'L' in careful detail. He had had to be very careful when he struggled in his handcuffs not to abrade the healing flesh, as the scabs could be pulled up and take the ink out. The night after it had been done, the handcuffs had to be traded in with a carefully knotted piece of soft velvety fabric. The blonde could have escaped such a restraint if he had tried hard enough, but he was a good boy and would not do it.

"How?" Their were color photos of several different techniques in the book before him, and B was having a difficult time choosing which method would be the most interesting, cause the most pain while still being easy enough to keep a clear mark. Scars could be so unpredictable, and the text advised that while it could be done at home, many had successfully managed to heal properly, it should only be carried out by a professional. The brunette considered himself quite skilled, the tattoo was coming along nicely. There were also many fresh bite marks, cuts, needle tracks, that regularly decorated the teen's beautiful skin. It still amazed him how the pretty young boy could keep such a golden color when he had not seen the sun in ten months.

"I want to try something new." The blond dared to say it, hoping that L would realize that he didn't mean that he was bored with their sex life at all. The brunette always kept him on his toes, was always coming up with new and wonderful things to do to him. Mello craned his neck, trying to peer over the text to see what the other man was looking at. It was set aside again, and the child pouted. "Let me look."

"I believe that Mello's mind is sharp enough to come up with an idea or two. He doesn't need to see." Trust was supposed to be the key to any healthy S&M relationship, knowing that your master knew when to stop was the most important factor to consider. The subordinate also had to know their limits, to be able to say the safe word, or give a sign when it was too much. Beyond saw this as absolute rubbish. What fun was fear, after all, if it wasn't genuine? How could you really be scared when you knew it was all an act? Boring.

"Please, just hurt me. Make me yours. I don't care how." If he wasn't told constantly that he belonged to the man, if he wasn't given a reminder every day then he began to feel nervous, paranoid. He needed to know. 'Mello is mine', the words repeated over and over in his head. Mine.

"Mello must have some idea." The kidnapper had several of his own, but wondered just how far the child would go on his own, what kind of imagination he had. L had surely picked him for his sharp mind, although he was only second in line as successor. There was something special about this boy, something different from all the others. It couldn't be the fiery temper that he had once had, that was for certain. L never had liked taking orders. It couldn't have been their very dull, unimaginative sex life. There was a keen wit behind all that sweetness, a devilish mind waiting to be opened up.

Possibly, one day the teen could join him in some of his favorite pastimes. He would have liked to have a partner when he left the house, when he committed the crimes that the Wammy House somehow had not discovered in all these years. Maybe someday, he hoped, Mello could join him. They could tear the world apart together, and never be caught. They could feast on it. But there was still many months of careful training and breaking of a strong will before that could come to pass. The brunette could still see the strong will surface in those blue eyes from time to time, in-between the doses of his medicine, or the marking of his body.

He wasn't broken yet.

Mello nervously met the older man's eyes, daring to have an idea, an opinion. L did not like to be told what to do, did not like for someone to come up with the solution before him. The blond could not imagine that he even liked the idea of having successors. There would never be anyone greater than the world famous detective. "I need another mark that won't heal. Another scar. Own me." It was the word ‘need’ that pleased the brunette most. Not ‘want’. Need. Mello needed him. Of course he did, the teen belonged to him.

Beyond set his studies aside. He didn't need them. Why had he even bothered to look? He already had the idea turning in his head now, had even before he'd begun reading. The implements were already in his possession. There was nothing special about them, just a piece of metal, a flame. The teen was turned on his stomach, hands above his head. His hair was brushed aside, and the ever-present choke chain was removed. Other than the skin that had been rubbed raw, the back of the boy's neck was one of the few places that were nearly clean. It would just not do. "We'll have to trim your hair again soon, love, it's getting long. And I'll be wanting to see this as clearly as possible when it's finished."

"I wish I could see it too." The blond relaxed while he waited for his lover to set up. The tattoo had taken forever, and looked lovely. But it had not hurt enough. He squirmed in excitement when he heard the sound of a piece of metal being heated up with a small torch, could feel the heat of it even before it was placed against the back of his neck. He didn't have to ask what his lover was doing; he could feel the scorching metal making the four straight lines of the 'M'. It wasn't until the next letter, an 'I', before he screamed, bit the pillow under his face.

"You'll know it's there, that should be enough. Now, stop moving around so much. Mello does not wish for my hand to slip, does he?" A muffled reply in the negative was made, then the brunette went to work on the next letter. He'd had to stop to reheat the piece of metal on the end of the tongs that he held, watching it turn from cold silver to bright red-orange, before he set it down for the first line of the 'N'. By the time he was working on the 'E', he could hear the blond panting into the pillow, trying to regulate his breathing between the screams. "Such pretty noises. Louder. Come on baby. For me." The word 'MINE' was finished, but the boy was so beautiful, so loud, was most definitely about to come. He couldn't stop now. The metal was reheated again, placed against each shoulder, down on his back over the fresh wounds that a belt had made that morning. When it touched the lower back, right over that small, tight, perfect ass, the teen was coming, calling his name, L, and thank you, and again please.

"Feel better?"

"Yes." Mello panted. "God, yes. L, oh god yes. Thank you. I love you." The boy stilled, holding his breath, needing to hear the word even after it had been burned into the back of his neck. His master made him wait for several minutes, let the doubt slip in, the insecurity.

"Mello is mine."

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The entire order of the Wammy House had been disturbed from the moment of Mello's disappearance. The students who Mello had gotten along with were heart broken, terrified that their friend was not coming back alive. Those who had not known him as well, or who considered themselves enemies of his, were shaken still. There was a constant fear that B would come back to pick another child. Theories circulated that he was after the L title alone, that he would kidnap or kill those who might be close to the top of the scores. There were others still that thought he was merely on a killing spree, that he might just do away with everyone. Maybe it was revenge for A? Months went by, and still Mello was the only one that had been taken. Yet everyone was on a constant state of alert, some helping in the search, some desperately trying to ignore it, still others begging for a placement in a different orphanage.

Near had had to take over for L's cases, because the detective refused to answer any more of Interpol's calls. The child had taken on the L title temporarily, so as not to concern world leaders, who had called Watari on numerous occasions, questioning as to whether or not the detective was even still among the living. After all, there were thousands of criminals who would give their lives to arrange for his death. Watari had assured that the young man was just taking some time away from it all, that he would be back to work soon. When it was obvious that he was not about to do any such thing, the albino teen had been given full access to all of his mentor's files. Near felt defeated, because this was not a win. Despite his cold demeanor, he admired the detective, and even somewhat enjoyed Mello's company, at least when he wasn't threatening to kill him. How could he win when the competition was M.I.A.?

Matt and Watari had stayed close to L's side, putting in as many sleepless nights to the hunt as they could physically manage. The detective still clocked twice as many hours as them both combined. He hadn't slept more than a few minutes a day in months. The brunette looked like a man on his deathbed, the bags under his eyes heavier and darker than ever. Watari laid plates of his favorite treats in front of him, coffee and tea sugared with sugar and cream. The man would occasionally allow himself a cup of black coffee only, when it was absolutely necessary to his survival. Otherwise, the detective sustained himself on sheer will alone.

"L, I would feel much better if you would eat something." The old man had sat an entire cake before his charge, laden with frosting and berries, a cup of decaffeinated coffee. L eyed the cake suspiciously, sniffed the coffee, and continued on his work. A window was pulled up, and the video began to play. There was the monthly update (the latest in a collection of ten), that he had been watching every hour for the past three days.

It showed Mello, thinner yet, marked with cuts and bruises, hands cuffed behind his back, sitting on his knees on the floor. His back was turned, and B glared triumphantly at the camera as he forced the teen to suck his dick, a handful of blond hair brutally twisted and pulled. The blond was thanking his captor after he'd swallowed. Watari felt sick, Matt was sitting across the room, not watching, but unable to avoid hearing, trying not to gag or cry.

"As I have said before, I am not as stupid as you think my dear Watari." The detective pushed long hair out of his eyes, having let it grow and grow without cutting since the day he had found out that his love was missing. "You and Matt have been trying to drug me. I tasted it in the last batch. Therefore, I will not be eating a single thing you set before me. You cannot be trusted.”

"For fucks sake, L, how are you any good to him if you won't care for your bloody self!" The redhead raged. He mentally kicked himself for not finding a sleeping aid that didn't lend a bitter taste to the foods he mixed it with. Watari was feeling terribly guilty for having to resort to such means, but Matt rationalized that if L didn't sleep soon, he would be dead before they got Mello home. "If you kill yourself, where's he at then? We need your mind for this."

"If Mello is able to endure such torment, then the least I can do is suffer a few sleepless nights in the name of his rescue." A few sleepless nights, read every night for over six months, aside from the very rare passing out.

"And turn that bloody thing off! I can't think. What the fuck is wrong with you, are you getting off on it or something?" Matt had always been somewhat jealous of the detective having taken his best friend away from him. Admittedly, he had begun to develop a crush on the pretty blond a few years prior, and though he was now striking a relationship up with Near who’d been helping him cope with his best friend’s disappearance, he still occasionally felt the pangs of jealously.

L lunged for the tiny redhead, knocking him to the floor with a kick to his chest. It knocked the wind out of the child, but only for a second. The teen retaliated, punching L square in the face, knocking the thin detective to the floor. There was a loud crash when his arm flew out, upsetting the tea tray on a nearby table, the porcelain shattering into a million shards. His hand was bleeding profusely, but he stood back up, attacking the boy again. "Don't you ever say something like that to me again! How dare you!"

Watari tried to pull the detective off of the redheaded teen, but had to sidestep to avoid being hit himself. L had never lashed out at him before, not even in all these months, not even after the old man had tried to drug him with sleeping aids or take away his computers for an evening, locking him in a spare room while he calmed. "L! That is enough! Turn that damned video off and go to bed! Or so help me I will resort to drastic measures. We are not helping Mello, fighting like this. In fact, I think the only one of us that is remaining clear headed is Near. Now, you are going to calm down, and Matt, you as well. We are all going to have a nice rest and then we're going to approach this differently."

For once, the detective listened to Watari. Though he did not head to his room, he did turn off the computer, and apologize to Matt, before he lay on the couch, curling up and gesturing for Watari to sit at the other end. Matt turned on the handheld video game, watching the old man and his mentor for a moment before joining them. Soon Watari had two sleeping young men with their heads on either of his legs, and he found himself dozing in a sitting position. Somewhere, there was a teenage boy who desperately needed their help, but they were at all the end of their rope, about to kill themselves or each other. He only hoped the child could survive long enough for them to gather their strengths once again. The old man's guilt was soon overrode by exhaustion, and the need to comfort the two children in his lap. They could do this. They just needed a little more time. And some help.