A/N: I’m going to call this story slightly AU in the sense that I’m changing some of the facts to suit my evil purposes. This story will also contain Yaoi and graphic NCS. If that’s not your cup of tea then please do not read.

Parings: Sakaki/Michael, Zaizen/Michael and possible others to be announced.

Summary: Zaizen is taking his control over Michael too far. Who can Michael turn to? Sakaki.

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin and will not make any money off of this.


Power and Control- Chapter 1

Robin leaned forward in her chair, straining to see the computer screen in front of her. They had been at it for hours and the two youngest members of the STN-J were still unable to make any connections.

“The attacks seem to be centralized around this particular ten block radius,” Michael said as he pulled up the street map schematic. His hands flew over the keyboard and the map highlighted the exact areas where witch activity had occurred. Robin stared at the flashing indicators. At this rate she would be blind before this started to make any sense.

“If that’s the case then there should be some type of pattern. If the attacks are this localized then there has to be a reason why. We must be overlooking something,” Robin sighed.

“I agree,” Michael said as he rested his chin on his hand thoughtfully. Robin caught herself studying his profile. It was nice to be around someone close to her own age, though for all Michael’s child-like behavior Robin could see an old soul residing behind his eyes.

Michael caught Robin’s stare out of the corner of his eye and turned to give her a warm smile. “What is it? Do I have something on my face?” He asked

“No,” Robin said behind her own smile, “I was just thinking how nice it is to be around someone my own age. In Italy there really wasn’t anyone my age so I felt out of place most of the time.”

“Really? That’s too bad. Back home I used to-“

“Working late are we?” A deep voice asked unexpectedly. The two teenagers jumped at the sound and looked up to see Takuma Zaizen standing in front of the desk.

“Oh, Mister Zaizen we didn’t hear you come in,” Robin said. “Michael and I were trying to get a lead on the recent witch attacks.” She glanced back to Michael who looked like he is trying to slide under his desk.

“I see,” Zaizen said as he walked around to the side of Michael’s desk. “It’s nice to know I have such dedicated employees. Michael?” The addressed teen reluctantly looked up. “My office, five minutes.” There is a moment of silence where the two stare at each other but then Michael nods his head weakly. With a small bow to Robin the Director of the STN-J turned on his heel and headed to his office.

“Is he mad at you or something?” Robin asked in a hushed tone. “That sounded more like an order than a request.”

“No, he…….uh, must need my help with something,” Michael replied. Robin noticed the immediate and abrupt change in his demeanor. Michael’s shoulders are tense and his body language is guarded. “I didn’t realize it had gotten so late. I’m sorry but we’ll have to pick this up tomorrow,” Michael said as he begins to gather the papers that had been scattered across his workspace. He thrust the pile of haphazard sheets at Robin and practically pushed her towards the elevator.

“Michael, is everything alright? You seem upset over something.”

“No, everything is fine,” He quickly denied. “It’s late. We’re not going to get any more done tonight so you might as well go home.” Michael pulled Robin’s coat off the rack and draped it over her arms as he gently pushed her inside the elevator car. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you tomorrow,” He said before the elevator doors close.

Worry? Why would I be worried? I think the important question is what has you so flustered, Michael? Robin thought as she rode the elevator down to the basement of Raven’s Flat.


The fist connected with Michael’s face as soon as he closed the office door behind him. The force of the blow knocked him to the floor and sent the amber hued glasses flying. Michael barely had time to recover as he was hauled up by the collar of his shirt by two meaty fists.

“That girl looked like she suspected something. What have you been telling her?” Zaizen snarled, his face inches from Michael’s.

“Nothing. I haven’t said anything to anyone,” Michael gasped.

“You had better not if you know what’s good for you.” And Michael knew all too well that he had better not disobey. There were too many painful memories etched into his being that insured he would always remember exactly where his place was.

Zaizen’s grip on Michael’s shirt loosened and he slid a hand up to caress the heavy chain around the teen’s neck. Michael shivered under the older man’s ministrations.

“Who owns you?” Zaizen said softly but no less menacing as he pulled hard on the collar. Michael closed his eyes.

“You do,” He replied softly in utter defeat.

“Very good. Always remember that, Michael. I own you. Now, on your knees,” Zaizen commanded. Michael complied and sunk down to his knees in front of the man. He felt the bitter tears begin to well in his eyes and he cursed his own weakness. Michael prayed to whatever god would listen that the old man would only want him to suck him off and nothing more.

With shaking hands, Michael reached up and undid the top button of Zaizen’s trousers and slowly pulled the zipper down. He flinched slightly when he felt a hand on the back of his head, urging him forward. Michael swallowed the lump in his throat as he reached into the pants and pulled out the semi-hard erection. The hand in his hair tightened and pushed his face closer. Michael closed his eyes and tried his best to distance himself from the act he was about to perform. After a deep breath he closed his mouth around the old man’s cock and began to suck slowly.

Zaizen gasped as he felt the wet warmth envelope his manhood. The boy did have such a sweet mouth. He began to thrust his hips, forcing the boy to take him deeper into his throat. There was a slight sound of protest but he knew the boy would comply. It was heaven. Zaizen almost did not want to stop. He was tempted to just let the boy finish him this way but he had other ideas in mind when he decided to pay a midnight visit to their resident hacker. He backed away from the boy suddenly.

“On your feet,” Zaizen ordered.

Michael wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood. He knew what this meant, Zaizen wanted to fuck him. He hated when the old man wanted that. Zaizen was never careful and always hurt him. In fact, Michael was pretty sure he did it on purpose. The sick bastard got off on it.

“You know the deal, lean over the desk,” Zaizen said as he continued to stroke himself. Michael knew there was no sense in begging him not to. He would just beat him and fuck him anyway. It was easier if he just let him do it. So, Michael bent over the large wooden desk and let the old man pull his pants down. He turned his head to the side and waited.

There was the sound of a drawer being opened and closed followed by a squishing sound as Zaizen spread the lube on his cock. The old man never took the time to prepare him and Michael felt some bitter relief that he at least used lubrication. It was always painful and this time was no exception. Zaizen pushed into him in one long, agonizing thrust. Michael could not stop the groan that escaped him. As the old man picked up his pace he placed his hand on the back of Michael’s head applying pressure with each thrust until Michael could not hold back any longer. Each slam into his body was met with a heart wrenching cry.

Thankfully the old man did not have the stamina and this torture session was brief. Michael heard Zaizen’s shout of completion as he felt the hateful flesh inside him spasm. He collapsed onto Michael’s back, crushing him further into the desk beneath him.

“Get out,” Zaizen ordered through panting breaths. Michael did not need to be told twice. He slide off the table and pulled his pants up but did not bother to button them. He paused only once to pick up his glasses from where they landed.

Michael walked as fast as his shaky legs would carry him back to his room. Once inside his private sanctuary he collapsed on the bed and pulled the covers over his head. It was there that he could purge himself from the emotions he was holding inside. And purge he did. With sobs that racked his whole body and tears that fell relentlessly from vivid blue eyes, Michael cried for his damned soul.



This fic has been around for a while. Finally decided to put it up here. Feedback is always appreciated.

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