For You I Bleed by Ash Kennedy Pain at his throat, searing hot like the desert sun. Coming in quick throbbing waves to the sluggish rhythm of his pumping heart. His eyelids fluttered and from his parted lips he drew a ragged breath. A blanket of darkness surrounded him, so thick that at first his mind was cluttered by the most ridiculous of thoughts. He was blind; Klaus had dug his fingers into the soft meat of his flesh and torn his eyeballs from their sockets; Klaus had killed him and all there was after death was this eternal darkness. But then his jaw was aflame and he could concentrate on nothing but the agony, and the wet slurping noises that rang all too loudly in his ears. It sounded as if there was a massive dog towering over him and he imagined its sides heaving with its deep panting breaths, its lolling tongue showering him with thick saliva as it leaned in to-- A sound like a stick being pulled from the deep recess of a mud pit echoed in the darkness. Stefan's pain was eradicated as if it had never existed. He was puzzled, but only momentarily. "Good Morning, Sweetheart." Stefan tried in vain to see through the darkness but with the absence of natural light he could only make out a grayish-black silhouette. Still, he understood what was going on now and he clenched his teeth in defiance. "Klaus," he breathed. "Bingo. You win the prize." There was light, a brilliant gold that penetrated the inky darkness and slithered over the walls. Klaus set the lantern he'd lit on what appeared to be a wooden box but could have been anything and Stefan could see his handsome face; didn't want to. But eyes like blue flame held his gaze and cruel lips skinned back from bloodstained teeth in a parody of a grin. Stefan tried to choke back the wave of anger and disgust that overcame him but it was potent and he was too weak not to succumb. He attempted to sit up and was met only by the sound of metal clanking against metal. Shackles. Stefan arched his neck and growled like a trapped animal. "Where...are...the others?" came the demand that erupted from his mouth. "Others? Oh, you mean your little band of human companions. Don't worry. I'm only concerned with you...at the moment, that is." Stefan's reply never made it past his lips. Klaus had run one of his large, bony hands down his chest, was cupping it around his crotch. Stefan's world seemed to stop, then fall out from underneath him entirely. The shackles jangled as he gathered all of his strength and fought against them, his wrists burning from his efforts as the metal left jagged red gashes. Klaus threw back his blond head and laughed. A cruel sound that grated on Stefan's nerves and set his senses on edge. He imagined a snake would laugh like that. A smug, predatory laugh right before it tore into its prey. Klaus's lips sobered and he leaned in close to Stefan's face. Stefan felt the caress of breath on his skin, hot and rank, and he fought every urge to shrink back. "So the Salvatore family similarities end there, I take it? This should be a real treat, then." Stefan's brow furrowed and his mind tried to work around what the Original had just said, but his thoughts failed to supply him with any explanation. He doubted he'd be given a direct answer if he asked, if any at all, so he pushed it to the back of his mind. A hand unbuttoning his pants then, the snarl of the zipper being pulled down. Stefan's muscles stiffened and he listened in the half-light, his mind torn between visions of escape and a maelstrom of emotions that threatened to undo him. Fingers extracted his flaccid cock from the entrapment of his underwear and brushed against the sensitive head. His muscles pulled taught as reality descended upon his mind. Whatever torture Klaus had had in store for him, he hadn't envisioned anything like this. In the centuries that he'd survived he'd been put through physical agony and had endured it, had endured mental agony as well. But this was a different kind of torture; an intimate torture that he'd never experienced and wasn't prepared to fight against. "What's the matter, Salvatore?" Klaus's grin looked positively demonic in the glow of the lantern and his hand flopped back to his side. "Do you think you can hide that this feels good from me? That you'd beg me not to stop if it wasn't for your pride and your morals?" Stefan knew by the tone of Klaus's voice that he was being deliberately taunted but the string of Italian insults rolled off his tongue before he could restrain himself. "Such language from a mouth as pure as yours. But I've got the remedy for that." Like a hawk descending upon its prey, Klaus climbed on to him and straddled his chest. Stefan could feel skin that was cold and stiff settle against his own. He realized that Klaus was naked beneath his tattered tan raincoat and a wave of dread rolled over him even before the Old One shrugged the garment off and threw it to the ground where it landed in a heap. This close, Stefan could smell the stench of death that clung to the other vampire like nauseating cologne. It was the stench of carrion decaying under a desert sun. Stefan was encumbered by it and turned away -anything to escape it- but the old one's massive hands were pulling him back. Fingers that felt as rough as sandpaper pried his jaw apart and he tried to clamp his teeth down on them and found he couldn't. Klaus's grip was too strong to oppose. The light from the lantern flickered and Stefan hoped it would burn out. He didn't need to see what would happen next, knew if he closed his eyes there would be fingers there to pry them open again. He stared off into the distance trying not to see but knew even as he glimpsed Klaus's erection at the edge of his vision that his worst assumptions had been justified. "If I feel any teeth, Salvatore, I'll make this situation a lot worse for you." Klaus's gaze was on Stefan, and his eyes caught the lamplight and glittered when he cocked his head. "How would you like to see your human friend Matt or your brother in this position? Would such a price be worth risking the satisfaction? Because I could do that, you know, if you will it." Stefan drew a ragged breath, fury swelling in his chest and threatening to burst forth. But he understood the consequences if he were to unleash it, and knew it would be futile anyway. He lay silent and still, arms limp in their shackles, waiting. It nearly drove him into a rage that he had to bend to Klaus's whims. It wasn't in his character. But there were others at risk if he refused to cooperate. Even if it meant his own imminent death, he couldn't betray his friend or his only sibling. Suddenly the fingers holding his jaw were gone and Stefan had only a moment to savor the absence of pressure before he felt his head being cradled and forced forward. Klaus leaned in towards him with one hand to guide himself, and the length of the Original's swollen cock impaled his mouth. With Klaus's fingers no longer there to hold him his reaction was immediate. He gagged and tried to pull away, the bitter essence of dead flesh permeating the soft membranes of his mouth, but Klaus pushed his head forward even further until the muscles in Stefan's neck bulged with the tension and ached in protest. The younger vampire breathed hard through his nostrils, trying to get himself to relax through the hazy snarl of discomfort and anger. It was all he could do to prevent succumbing to his instinct to bite down. "I can't fathom how a Florentine Renaissance man couldn't have had /some/ experience with another man, no matter /how/ virtuous they are." Klaus's voice was laced with exasperation. He sighed as if Stefan was a slow learning student. "But I suppose I should have predicted this." The Old One's eyes were nearly glowing with anticipation. "I'm going to have to train you, Salvatore." Stefan understood Klaus's words. Sodomy between two men was fairly common when he was alive, and although he'd had many invitations from acquaintances during his youth he'd never had any desire to pursue that kind of pleasure. His place had been amongst his books and his family, not the self-indulgent life that his brother had led. Klaus grabbed him by the hair, pulling him up from the depths of his memories and drew himself out of the younger vampire's mouth. He did it slowly, both to torment the vampire further and to savor the friction. "Lick." One word, unmistakably a command, but Stefan didn't move. He couldn't do it; couldn't degrade himself any further then he had. But the power that surged through him like electric and coiled around his mind - a python constricting its prey- would not let him refuse. The pressure was immense. He felt like his body would burst into flame and his head would explode. And he understood that it would and that he'd put others in danger if he didn't obey. He touched his tongue gingerly to the head of Klaus's cock, the taste not unlike rancid meat. Revolted, he was momentarily doubtful that he could go through with it. But he steeled himself and let instinct guide him. Klaus grunted his pleasure and the pressure in Stefan's mind increased. It confused him and he attempted to redouble his efforts, licking with a fervor that arose only from the ponderings of what would occur if he tried to rebel. His mouth swirled with a horrible aftertaste that was reminiscent of sour milk but he choked it down. Still the pressure swelled around his mind and squeezed, until the pain shot down his face and jaw and neck and burned through his veins like the worst bloodlust he'd ever felt. It was as if his body was being ripped apart from the inside and he bit down on his tongue to keep from crying out. He couldn't fathom what he was doing wrong, but whatever it was it was, it was enraging Klaus. The searing pain that continued to tunnel through him wasn't helping his mindset, either. He couldn't keep a clear head through it and he could already feel blackness swirling around the edges of his conscious. If he tried to resist any longer, he'd black out, and that could prove to be a very hazardous situation. He tried to think about his friends, about Damon possibly still roaming the streets of Fell's Church, about who would stop Klaus and put Elena's spirit to rest if he didn't survive this assault. But even as he drew Klaus into his mouth, rammed him down his throat in a half-mad attempt to appease the Old One and prevent more suffering, he felt the darkness enveloping him. The python around his mind had crushed the last of his mental strength in its grip. He was going under. He moved his head away from Klaus and slumped back, all the fight gone out of him. He couldn't move and his thoughts were like fish darting in a stream. One last shot of pain rippled through him before his eyes closed. "Not bad for a novice," Klaus said aloud, peering down at him. "Not too bad at all." He laughed. Stefan was outside when he awoke. He knew because he was naked, and he recognized the unsettling sensation of insects crawling over his body as the telltale touch of grass. He was in the old graveyard, it was a moonless night, and he lay on his stomach amongst endless rows of tombstones, Klaus's mouth clamped around his wrist. He didn't resist. He was weak and he could feel the pressure that constriction of Klaus's mental power---still wrapped around his mind. How long had it been since he'd blacked out? Hours? He thought it was hours. It had felt like daytime when he'd first come to in the.well, now that he thought about it, it was probably the church crypt. There was something heavy around his neck. It clanked as he attempted to raise his head and he reached up slowly to trace the outline of it with his finger. A restraining collar, of which a length of chain was attached with the handle wrapped tightly around a grave marker. But despite this Stefan's hands and legs weren't restrained. He was slowly starting to regain his composure and it occurred to him that maybe Klaus had never needed to restrain him in the first place. The Original was certainly much more powerful then he was. Maybe he had only done it to "Good to see you're awake, Salvatore." Klaus's mouth was painted red and he smiled, flashing his fangs. "The power of my bloodline's made you quite a delicacy. I think I could grow to like having you around." Those words sent tendrils of dread through Stefan's blood and he shivered. He'd already endured hell at Klaus's hands, he couldn't imagine having to go through such torture on a regular basis. Klaus was on his feet, the breezy night making the tattered ends of his old raincoat flap like the wings of bats. "Get up," he told the younger Salvatore. Stefan didn't so much as look at him. He remained on his stomach in the grass, refusing to pay any heed to the Orignal's words. "Alright, have it your way." Klaus grin threatened to split his face as he bore down on Stefan's mind with his mental fist. Stefan squeezed his eyes shut but didn't get to his feet. He lay panting, trying to ascend the pain. "You're a tough one to break, Salvatore," Klaus commented, finally resorting to using the restraining collar. He tugged on it until Stefan, fearing that his head would be severed if he didn't move, rose slowly to his feet. "But I /will/ break you. You're much easier compared to some of the other vampires I've bent to my will in my time. Take my word for it." Stefan's expression was defiant. "You'll have to kill me first." His voice was hoarse and quiet but his tone was unmistakable. "And risk your brother's wrath? No, I think I'd rather break you." He stepped up behind Stefan and wrapped his strong arms around the chest. He'd moved so fast Stefan hadn't even seen him. "Besides, you're of no use to me dead." Stefan stood still, trying not to lash out at the Old One who seemed to want to provoke him into a rage. He didn't know why, didn't want to find out, and he fought to keep his staggering temper from dipping over the edge. It was a battle he was beginning to lose and he could feel his control slowly slipping out of his grasp. Klaus's teeth sunk into his shoulder then, ripping through his flesh and tearing it away in thick, bloody chunks. It was as if the Original were trying to eat him alive. Lightning bolts of pain surged through his body and he cried out as they threatened to split down through his chest and abdomen. A sharp pain that erupted in his temples and pierced his mind brought him to his hands and knees. Klaus moved with him, mouth still working the shredded piece of meat that the younger vampire's shoulder had become. He lapped at the blood that welled up from the wound like a parched dog, catching it with his tongue as it seeped down Stefan's back in rivulets. When Stefan felt Klaus's long, bony fingers press against the opening of his anus his muscles went taught and he made an attempt to drag himself away. But the Old One was persistent. He grabbed Stefan by the metal collar and held him in place, a muttered threat regarding 'your human friends' passing like venom from the lips of his rictus grin. Stefan closed his eyes and grimaced as Klaus's fingers pushed up inside him. It wasn't so much painful as uncomfortable and he allowed himself to relax, although he knew that Klaus was far from through with him. And he was right. Stefan braced himself as another of Klaus's fingers slid into him, and yet another. The soil parted like butter beneath his clawing hands, and to keep from screaming he clamped his teeth down on his tongue hard enough to draw blood. It felt like one thousand needles had pricked him at once, like claws had shaved his flesh down to the bone. Dear god, he hadn't imagined something could be so agonizing. But Klaus still had his thumb left to go and as he forced it inside, Stefan feared that he would be split open and his entrails would spill forth. He could already smell blood on the air, no doubt in his mind that it was his own and was not from the wound on his shoulder. And Klaus's fist felt like a ramrod that had been ploughed deep, deep inside him and would be forced straight through his body. As if on queue, the python slithered out from whatever mental crevice it had been hiding in and wrapped its length around his mind, seeming to push his pain and anger to the pinnacle. Sweat beaded on his body, glistening in the darkness, and rolled off of him as he fought for the threads of control. If they slipped through his grasp, then any hope of saving his friends and getting out of this predicament was lost. And then Klaus's lips slid around the head of his cock and his control dissipated completely. His features contorted into a snarl and he whipped his head around, ready to tear out Klaus's throat despite the fact that the restraining collar was cutting into his neck and that Klaus could easily break him in two. But Klaus's mouth on his shaft stopped him midway. It felt.he was /not/ going to think of how it felt. But it counteracted the burning sensation that bore through him with each thrust of the Original's pumping fist. He froze, uncertainty marring his judgment. Klaus took Stefan into his mouth to the hilt then drew him out sadistically slowly, eliciting a gasp and a shiver. He grinned, showing fangs almost twice the size of the younger vampire's. "Do you like that, Salvatore?" Klaus's voice was whimsical with the sharp edge of a taunt. Stefan's brow furrowed in befuddlement and he growled low in his throat. "Do you want me to make you come?" Something inside Stefan snapped and screamed in its bloodlust, 'kill the bastard, tear him apart with your teeth' but the ever-present mental constriction of Klaus's power struck his thoughts down with a powerful squeeze. He felt it begin to expand, like a giant fist unfurling inside his head, and the entire weight of it bore down on him at once. Where the python had been an uncomfortable nuisance, this was a bruising, unstoppable force. And it was manipulating him, prying his lips apart to form an answer on a rush of breath; an answer that he would have never allowed himself to speak. "Yes." No! came his mental protest but it was drowned out. Klaus bit down. Hard. Stefan, having thought he had already been driven to the pinnacle of torment, wasn't prepared for the sensation of teeth penetrating his most sensitive parts. The pain burst forth from him in the form of a sound that was not unlike the terrified squeal of an animal caught in a hunting trap. Klaus teeth clamped down around him again, not as hard this time. More like the way a mother wolf would nip a cub to scold them. But it would have been just as uncomfortable as the last if the original hadn't chosen that moment to roll his mental power over him. It veiled his mind from the pain, dulled the shattered-glass edges of the agony; made it seem almost enjoyable. With clarity born only from the revelation, Stefan understood he was slipping further under the elder vampire's power. He was being chiseled down to the breaking point, like a wild stallion beneath the reigns and bridle of his trainer. And soon he would be nothing more then a marionette for Klaus to twist and bend as he wished. He wouldn't let.. The clank of his collar rattled in his ears and his thoughts skittered and bounced away like a bag of marbles dropped on the floor. He'd been flipped belly up and when he caught his first glimpse of the damage Klaus had done to him revulsion threatened to purge the bile from his stomach. His cock was smeared with blood and the areas where the Original had bit into him were mangled and raw. It stood erect and he turned his head away, choking down his disgust. But if he was disgusted because he was aroused or because of the image of his mangled groin, he wasn't sure. Klaus knelt before him in the grass, his tongue swirling around his fist and cleansing the blood stains that marred his milky skin. He made a show of it, extracted Stefan's essence from his skin with lips and mouth and tongue. They did a slow dance across his knuckles and along his fingers, working against his palm and wrist as if his skin were a lover. Stefan's eyes were dilated as he met Klaus's and they swelled and glowed a brilliant green with what little determination he had left in him. "Fuck you, Klaus. You may control my body, you may even possess it, but you'll never have my soul." Stefan realized that his outburst had been rash only a moment before he felt the tendrils of Klaus's power pierce his mind and unleash their phantom talons, ripping through his mental barriers as if they were rice paper. He tried to resurrect them to stop the onslaught but Klaus was /furious/ and he was no match for the Original. The power surged through his vulnerable psyche, coiling around everything in its path, and squeezed as if trying to extract his very will. Blood welled up in Stefan's mouth and seeped past his lips; he could feel it spilling forth from his nose and eyes and his ears rang and ached as if his eardrums had burst. They felt like they had. He couldn't tell anything, couldn't even get a thought to stay stable in his head. Somehow, though, he managed to focus on Klaus looming above him in the sea of his vision, his dirt-stained and threadbare slacks unbuttoned. He was holding Stefan by the legs, the smile on his face crooked. Deranged. He was reveling in Stefan's pain, licking it up like the blood from one of his unfortunate victims. Stefan wished Klaus really /had/ plucked his eyeballs from his sockets then, as he had thought when he'd first woken up in the Older One's clutches. For the image before him made everything all the worse. His muscles convulsed when the Original thrust himself inside him, impaling him with his entire length at once. He was too detached from himself to feel the pain of his earlier wounds being torn open again, though, and he couldn't bring himself to care anymore. If Klaus pounding at him hard enough that he could swear something inside him had cracked and broken was what it would take to keep the elder vampire from rendering him a mental invalid, then he would oblige. There wasn't any other choice. He would feed Klaus's lust for devastation to save his friends, his brother; he would feed it to save himself. Gradually Klaus's power withdrew from Stefan's mind as the younger Salvatore gave himself in to the Original's demands. Stefan was learning his place; Stefan was being broken and Klaus slowed the feverish pace of his hips and bent down to taste the Italian boy's mouth. The sour milk flavor of dead flesh flooded Stefan's palette again, as horrible as it had been the first time. But it wasn't unbearable and Stefan licked and prodded at the Original's mouth with his tongue, driven by fervor he didn't know he had. He was still erect when Klaus's hand wrapped around his shaft. Jabs of pain rippled through him as the Older One's long fingers stroked the torn flesh, thumb brushing the underside. He willed himself to overcome it; to not care how much it hurt or how he wanted nothing more then to sever the vile tongue being pushed down his throat between his teeth. And even as he fought his natural urge to oppose Klaus he could feel Klaus's hold on him finally recede and draw back into the dormant state the elder vampire kept it in. There was nothing controlling his actions now, nothing to bully him into submission. Klaus had given him back that degree of freedom with intentions that he had only now come to fully understand. An intangible but proud and stubborn force inside of him that he'd struggled so hard to keep hold of withered as he ground his hips against Klaus's, working into a rhythm opposite the Original's thrusts. Aches not unlike being bathed in a lake of fire shot up from his groin to his abdomen in white-hot streaks. Something /was/ broken inside him but instead of letting up he ground himself harder against Klaus, until the combined effects of Klaus's hand pumping him and Klaus's cock pushing deep inside him tore the breath from his lungs in a moan and sent him trembling. The familiar build up before orgasm had come upon him, burning in his balls, snarling through every muscle of his body and pulling them taught. Klaus's tongue snaked out to lap the blood from the edges of his lips and where it had it dried on his cheeks when it had run from his eyes, and the younger vampire wound his fingers in the Original's blond hair that, in the moonlight, looked as dark as his brother's. It was slick, like oil, and greasy to the touch, but he could no longer find the repulsion inside him as his breath came in pants. The briefest of moments passed in which the thought crossed his mind that he /should/ be repulsed. And then came the rush of blood. He cried out and clenched himself around Klaus, who was still deep inside him, riding the warm waves of pleasure, spurting semen on to his own stomach and Klaus's hand. Klaus bent to lick him clean and he hardly noticed save for when fangs grazed his skin and sent shivers through him. It seemed awhile before the fuzzy edges of post-orgasm peeled back to reveal reality and only when he had caught his breath did he allow himself to relax, closing his eyes. Klaus pulled out of him, the cloying musk of sex and blood permeating the night air and arousing Stefan's senses. He knew the Original had torn him apart inside, used him as if he had been nothing more then a piece of meat to fuck and abuse. Every time he exhaled he could feel the abrasions on his inner muscles breath blood, like little burning mouths. None of the battle scars mattered, though. They would heal, as they always did, and what he'd allowed Klaus to do to him had kept his friends from the Original's cruel bonds. A haunting laugh like a winter wind from Klaus, as if the Original had read his mind and thought such an idea ridiculous. The elder vampire kneeled with his knees to either side of Stefan's head, half-straddling his chest. He guided his cock to Stefan's lips, rubbing and prodding them with the head. Stefan didn't need to be mentally provoked by Klaus anymore. He opened his eyes and looked into the Original's electric blue ones, and they were as empty and bottomless as if he had been staring at the surface of the ocean. There wasn't anything there for him to read. Just light that danced and weaved and reflected not an ounce of emotion back at him. He took Klaus's cock into his mouth and sucked until his mouth ached in protest, forced the entire thing down his throat until he was nearly choking himself. And still he drove himself further, Klaus's heavy breathing filling his healing ears as he put his entire soul into the blowjob. Klaus came with a loud grunt, withdrawing from Stefan's mouth to cover the younger vampire's lips in thick strands of semen. Stefan licked it away as if it was the sweetest blood that he'd ever imbibed, not giving a damn if it tasted stale and dead; not giving a damn if he was acting like some wanton lower class hustler. It was what Klaus desired of him. And so he did as was expected. His restraining collar made a sound like a bucket of bolts being dropped down a flight of stairs as he finished cleaning the last traces of the sour come from his mouth and rested his head back against the grass. Klaus had already gotten off of him and was walking away. Stefan could hear his laughter riding up on the night air and filling the sky above them. He realized, now, that Klaus had never had any intention of releasing him; that he had rendered him submissive for this reason. Klaus would keep him around to use as his personal toy, and he would bow to the elder vampire's whims without a thought of insubordination crossing his mind. And after he no longer amused the Original he would be disposed of. And that was how it would be. There wasn't anything else left for him now. He'd given up a part of him to save the others and it would be forever lost. No hope of regaining himself. No hope of putting Elena's soul to rest, to make real amends with Damon, to revive the old Stefan Salvatore No other purpose but to bleed.