The Dragon Imprisoned   von Sean
                         (YGO DM / 5D's, Divine/Seto)
================================================================================
                             Prolog: Ivy on Silver
                             ---------------------


Kaiba Corp did business with all sorts of other companies, and Seto had every
application screened thouroughly before it showed up on his own desk, pending
the CEO's personal approval. Occasionally and odd company found its way into
this pile, but none so remarkably different as this: The Arcadia Movement.

Seto didn't make a habit of judging people by their appearance, and first
impressions could be deceiving, but he doubted an aura like this could be faked.
The kind of confidence this Divine fellow  radiated was uncommon to say the
least: strong one moment, strategically subtle the next.
Meeting him over dinner, Seto found that Divine could certainly be a valuable
partner – if he could be tamed. He decided it was a risk worth the possible
outcome.

Maybe a man less blinded by his own arrogance and sheer ego wouldn't have missed
the dark glint in those green eyes.

*

In some ways, it had been ridiculously easy to lure in this particular prey.
Seto Kaiba was a brilliant business man, remarkable especially for his age, but
he found him lacking where social, interpersonal matters were concerned.
And no one excelled at manipulating others the way Divine did. Seto's psyche was
like an open book to him, the door to his fragile self wide open.

The dark hotel room was more to his taste than the bright restaurant, and it was
easy enough to get Seto there. He acted quickly, too fast for the teenage CEO to
slip from confusion to anger. Keeping him in a constantly unstable state of
mind, he tortured and pleasured the pale virgin body until the once so proud
young man was nothing but a shaking boy on his knees by Divine's feet.

“Well?”, he asked with a wide smirk, watching Seto's chest rise and sink
rapidly, feeling his heartbeat like a panicked butterfly under his hand around
the other's neck.
Seto swallowed, blue eyes impossibly wide.
“You're the boss.”, his hoarse voice pressed passed chapped lips.

And what a powerful boss he would be, with all of Kaiba Corp's ressources at his
disposal.



                       Kapitel 1: The Dragon Imprisoned
                       --------------------------------


Cold arrogance was in his stance and in the way he looked at the older business
men down the table. He had nothing but contempt for their slow minds with their
oldfashioned ways, only disdain for their useless opposition. He had crushed
them, and rather easily, too.
“Gentlemen, I believe that concludes our meeting.”, he said as he gathered
his documents. The numbers on them spoke for themselves – he owned them and
their companies, from the tiniest office in the remotest part of the world to
their bosses themselves. The only choice left to them was to give in and submit,
or resign. It didn't matter to him either way.
They knew it as well, that their defeat was not a matter of time or even
acceptance, that the battle was over and done, and they had lost. Anger was
there on their old faces, but also surrender and open despair. Seto Kaiba had
always been a powerful enemy, a fearful man to be up against. What would he do
now, that the world's economy was at his back and call?
The answer was obvious to any of them: he could do anything he wished. And he
was not a man to leave power unused.

Even after a long day of work Seto never seemed strained. His hair was never in
disarray, his suit as clean and crisp as ever, his tie not even crooked the
slightest bit. That was just who he was. Divine didn't have to teach him that,
though he supposed there had been a teacher once. Pathological behavior like his
never came natural.
Divine entered the sizable office through the private elevator, the one that
only he and Seto had the key for. Seto turned around to face him, his expression
still cold and proud, the way he always looked when dealing with the world. But
the moment his eyes fell on Divine his whole demeanor changed and his eyes
became pleading and soft.
“Divine...!”, he whispered and rushed forwards, only to literally drop to
his knees in front of the other man, placing kisses on his shoes.
“That's a good boy, Seto.”, Divine praised with a light smile. The change
that went through Seto in the blink of an eye never ceased to amaze him. He had
done a good job with this one.
“I crushed them all today, Divine.”, Seto told him, eagerly pressing his
head against Divine's legs. Then he swallowed and added, shyly and in a low
voice: “Have I pleased you?”
Ah, his poor boy, begging for approval, for praise, never really knowing whether
he'd done well unless he was told so by Divine himself. He put one hand under
Seto's chin and tipped his head up so he could look into his deep blue eyes.
They were dry, despite the wavering of his voice. Divine had beaten the last of
his tears out of him, it seemed, quite a while ago.
“Well, what do you have for me, Seto dear?”, he asked, his face devoid of
the pleasure he felt at the sight in front of him, his submissive little boy.
Seto had eyes for nothing but Divine, nothing at all. And Divine knew that for a
fact: Seto had not looked away from him when Divine had killed his little
brother for his final test.
“The world's ecenomy. I... you control it all. It is in your hand.”
Divine allowed himself a smile then and petted the neat brown hair. “Well done
then. I am pleased.”
The open relief on Seto's face almost made him laugh. There really was nothing
left of the arrogant young man he had met so many years ago. He was nothing but
a facade now, a tool Divine used. The real Seto was this helpless boy who's need
for a loving father figure couldn't have been clearer had it been written on his
face.
Divine had become the father he had always wanted. The all powerful, all
controlling presence in his life he needed to function. Seto had never been one
to stand on his own legs, after all. Divine had made him whole, and happy.
And Seto had been most useful to him. He was a true genius, and the company he
had essentially built himself had been a formidable foundation for his grasp on
the world. Wars weren't won by armies alone anymore – and Divine certainly had
an awe inspiring military – it was the economy that ruled the world,
capitalism at its most powerful.
Under Divine's guidance, Seto had conquered that world for him, as Aki had done
with his army lead by psychic duelists.
Now the boy begged him for a reward, pleaded for that touch he craved. Because
no-one but Divine himself was allowed to touch him at all – not that he'd have
wanted anyone else. He was mortally afraid of having strangers touch him, a
phobia Divine had very fond memories of instilling in him. He almost regretted
this little project to be finished.

Seto looked up at him with the fearfully questioning expression of a child,
unsure whether his bold behavior would be rewarded or punished as he mouthed
divine's crotch through the cloth of his trousers. But Divine nodded approvingly
and Seto began to carefully open his pants, using his mouth only. His hands were
clasped on his back, just like Divine had taught him.
He had always been surprisingly talented in this area, after Divine had trained
resistance and embarrassment out of him. Seto's mouth on him was hot and wet and
always welcome. He sucked like Divine was a rare treat, using his tongue in the
most delightful ways.
Divine took hold of his hair roughly and Seto only moaned appreciatively around
his cock, urging Divine to push into the moist cavern. Seto never resisted,
keeping his gag reflex in check as best he could, making sure his lips covered
his teeth as Divine pounded into him. Oh, how he strived to please!
Divine didn't warn him when he was about to come, spilling his load down Seto's
throat. The boy swallowed it all without complaint and licked him clean when he
was done.
And he wanted more, Divine knew that even without the bulge tenting Seto's white
trousers. But unless he tormented him some more, he wouldn't ask for it. He only
ever pleaded for that silently, without words. But Divine was in a good mood,
and Seto had indeed pleased him today. So many plans had come to a successful
end tonight.
“Undress for me, pretty boy.”, Divine ordered, and Seto nodded eagerly and
obeyed. It was a beautiful sight, mostly because Divine remembered how much Seto
used to hate it when he called him that, either pretty or boy.
He was really too thin to be truly beautiful, and he still held himself with a
certain awkwardness when he was naked. He would never be a seducer, never more
of a lover than a catamite. But he didn't have to show himself to anyone but
Divine, and he was rather pleased with Seto's abashment. And regardless of his
attitude, Seto did have the skills to please him physically.
Now stark naked he looked at Divine through bangs of brown hair, keeping about
two steps between them because he'd otherwise be too tall to look up. Only in
front of Divine did he try to make himself smaller.
“You may prepare yourself.”, Divine said after a moment. It was a privilege,
one he didn't always grant. Seto was aware of that and nodded gratefully before
fetching the tube of lube from a drawer. He still blushed when he bent over his
own desk, baring himself to Divine's view. His head lowered to the smooth
surface as he spread his legs, stretching his entrance with long, thin fingers.
Seto liked the pain though, and he never prepared himself enough. He knew it
would burn when Divine entered him, and waiting for that pain was as important
to him as the sensation itself. The sight was entrancing, and Divine found
himself reacting to it each and every time, his erection returning without
additional stimulation.
He knew when Seto was done and came up behind him, not even bothering to lower
his pants, just leaving them open, the way Seto had left them after his blow
job. He took a firm hold of those slender hips, thinking that Seto's pale skin
always bruised so easily from his touches.
He pushed inside Seto's waiting body with one hard thrust, noticing with delight
that it ripped a surprised scream from the boy's lips and that his fingers
frantically sought in vain for hold on the desk. Divine didn't wait, nor did he
hold back. There was no reason for either of them. He often thought that Seto
only knew affection when it hurt, and it was certainly true for the way he liked
sex.
Divine found it was a wonderful stress relief, and seeing his little prodigy
brought down like this before him was just as arousing as the act itself.
Seto screamed, all inhibitions lost, a louder echo to Divine's deeper and less
pronounced moans. Soon the boy began to purposefully tighten his channel around
Divine, drawing more and different noises from the man above him. His own desire
was never as important as Divine's, though that fact might not be a conscious
thought on his part.
Urged on like that, Divine came before long, spilling himself once again inside
Seto.
He held still then, panting breathlessly, still buried within the boy, leaning
over him. Seto was holding his breath, waiting, still painfully hard.
Divine smiled, pleased. “Good boy. You may come.”
Seto needed no more than that to reach his climax.
And he needed no more to be perfectly content. No more than Divine.

Another evening, the sun was about to set, warming Seto's back through the
windows behind his desk, when one of his secretaries entered the office after a
quick knocking. “Mr. Kaiba, sir...”, he began nervously.
“What is it?”, Seto snapped, not patient enough to wait for the man to
stumble over polite small talk.
“We have cleaned out the old offices. There are a number of personal effects
that we weren't sure what to do with.”, he was looking down at a small
cardboard box, big enough to hold a few files, but not more.
Seto barely looked up from his computer. “Just put them over there, I'll be
looking them over later.”, he hated it when people interrupted his work,
especially his secretaries who should know better. And didn't he pay them to
take care of small tasks like that for him?
No matter. He finished his email, looked up a few numbers, made some calls. Work
was important, but he liked it. He liked his responsibilities, and the way that
every important economic decision was made here, in his office.
Well, not really. The real power lay with Divine, of course, but he couldn't be
expected to be burdened with the every day work load that came with his rule.
That's what Seto was here for, after all.
He sighed and stood, massaging his temples where a head ache was beginning to
build. He probably just needed a coffee. Planning to stretch his legs a bit
while he was at it, he went to find himself a cup full of that reviving, bitter
brew. 
On his way out he passed the box his secretary had left earlier. Since he was
taking a break anyway, he decided he might as well have a look at its contents
now. He opened the lid with lazy curiosity, only to find what looked like an old
card folder on top. He picked it up, noticing too late that he was holding it
upside down so that all the cards inside tumbled down to form a colorful pile at
his feet.
He groaned in annoyance, let the folder drop back into the box and bend down to
pick up the mess. He hadn't dueled in years, finding it utterly unnecessary. He
was a business man, not a duelist, and it was in that capacity that he was most
useful to Divine. He took a card at random, feeling something like nostalgia at
the familiar feeling. 
He turned it over to see – his heart beat faster, his eyes went wide, why was
that? – looking back at him was the majestic form of the Blue Eyes White
Dragon. 
And a single tear slid down his face, unnoticed.



                     Kapitel 2: White Dragon, Green Dragon
                     -------------------------------------


It seemed like finding that old card in his possession had triggered something
in Seto, doubt and questions, even anger, that he wasn't able to suppress. No,
that wasn't right. He had complete control over himself and his emotions, and
had he wished it, none of them would have bothered him. But he did not wish it,
and that was really the problem.

As soon as he had realized that he was crying – crying! – he had torn his
gaze away from his dragon, determination on his face. What on earth had happened
to him, that he would abandon duels altogether and instead submit himself to
someone else's will... it reminded him too much of what Gozaburo had done to him
and he felt sick to his stomach.
Memories had been rushing back to him, as if he had been asleep for years and
was only now awakening from a hellish nightmare. He awoke to a world in which
his brother was dead, because he had failed to protect him, and where one man
controlled his life so completely that Seto wasn't sure he could just walk away
from it.

Even now the mere thought of Divine made him tremble with fear and... something
else he couldn't quite put a name to. A childish adoration maybe. The man was
such a huge presence in his life, his world, he had serious trouble imagining it
without him. And yet, a familiar anger had begun to rise within him. No one made
a fool of Seto Kaiba. Divine had shamelessly used and abused him, shaped him to
do his bidding.
Seto shivered at the power he himself had placed in Divine's hands. Under this
self proclaimed messiah's guidance he had turned the Kaiba Corporation into so
much more than a gaming company. He owned stock in more global groups than he
could count, not to mention the deals he had made under the table, the secrets
he knew of all the right people...
And he had given it all away selflessly, had fullfilled his role as a dutiful
servant.
He clenched his hands to fists as his gaze wandered over the city – his office
was still located in one of the buildings with the best view – the place where
Divine's work was most apparent even to a lazy observer. The only building that
towered over that of Kaiba Corp was the Arcadia Movement, a giant of shiny metal
and evergreen ivy.
He remembered looking at it with yearning, because his muddled mind had
associated it with Divine. The memory only caused him nausea now and the
imposing building let a cold shiver run down his spine.
He had to know how far Divine's control over him went. He had to test himself,
see if he was able to withstand the man and his eerie powers. Seto tried not to
see the city and concentrated instead on his reflection on the glass panel. He
was still the same. Tall, cold, strong. He was no one's toy.

*

Seto cursed himself only hours later, for despite his earlier firmness his body
had not forgotten the training of the years under Divine's 'care'. All the man
had to do was enter the room and Seto wanted to do nothing but sink to his knees
and await his orders, and he felt an odd happiness rise in his chest when his
head was petted like that of a dog.
At that moment there was nothing more important in the world than Divine and the
need to please him. He had to do as he was told. His earlier thoughts of
rebellion were gone, banished from his mind as unimportant and insignificant.
For only a fool would even contemplate fighting against Divine.
He offered not only his mind but also his body willingly, eagerly even.
He undressed on command and stood perfectly still when his body was inspected in
an almost clinical fashion, something he would later see as highly humaliating
but what at the time was attention bestowed upon him by Divine – who, after
all, owned him more than he did himself – and he enjoyed it thouroughly.
And if it was Divine's will to hurt him, to see him suffer under his hand, then
that was fine, too. The slightly elastic shape of a cane came down on his back
again and again, and he didn't so much as try to hold back cries of pain and,
sooner than he liked, sounds of profound pleasure. He revelled in that pain,
because he deserved it, needed it, because it was Divine who inflicted it on
him.
It was neither punishment nor reward, though Seto would have accepted both, of
course, but discipline, something he received regularly at Divine's hand. It
kept his mind sharp, and his body obedient, Divine claimed, and he was right.
It was one of their more rigorous sessions and Divine didn't stop before Seto's
back was bloodied under his hand and the young man was barely able to stand
upright, even leaning against the wall as he was. His head was spinning with
pain and arousal, the two were one and he craved release for both, but only if
it was Divine's will. He would endure anything for him, and he heard himself
whisper those words over and over.
Even as Divine decided to use his body for his own pleasure, something Seto
gladly provided, he knew he was not allowed to come, not unless he had express
permission. He didn't get it today, because that wasn't the purpose of the
exercise, as Divine reminded him with a smile, and he would not ask for it. It
was so he would not forget his place.

*

He wanted to scream.
He came to the realization that Divine was his whole life, he was all that
mattered, all that stood between him and a meaningless existence.
It was the one irrevocable truth that governed him.
It was unacceptable.

He might curse his own weakness all day, but there was no way around it. He
could not stand against Divine in the man's presence. Left to his own devices
however, he was anything but powerless.
He kept the Blue Eyes White Dragon card close to him, albeit well hidden. He
looked at it as often as he dared, sometimes several times a day, so he would
not forget his resolution. He would break free of those chains, and he would see
Divine crushed and defeated if it was the last thing he did.
Which it might as well be. Seto had fought all manner of battles throughout his
life, had faced numerous opponents, all with their own kind of strength. Yet
none, he found, rivaled Divine.
All, perhaps, except one. But he was long gone, and no crisis of whatever
proportions would bring him back. And the longer he waited, the more time
passed, the smaller the chance became that anyone would oppose Divine's regime.
Society calmed down and settled into the new shape Divine had crafted for it.
It was not a bad world altogether, especially if you were a psychic duelist, but
Seto promised himself that he would never accept it. Not as long as he was but a
slave to its ruler.

So he investigated this seemingly perfect world, desperately trying to find tiny
cracks in sturdy walls, ways to bring down an empire while it was still young.
It was during that search that he found the file of a certain young man. To be
honest, Seto had to admit that it was probably his hair that first attracted his
attention. Dark with golden-blond streaks... the similarity was vague at best,
but to someone who had been unwittingly looking for something, it was close
enough.
He was a prisoner much like Seto, with one important difference: he wasn't
useful to Divine. That reasoning made Seto suspect there was more to him than
what met the eye. There had to be a reason that Yusei Fudo had not seen the
light of day in years, but was – and the records were quite clear on that –
still alive.
Seto leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the computer screen. Freeing him
would be a test more than anything. How much could he actually do without Divine
noticing? He smirked. It was a challenge he would rather enjoy handling.

Seto had devised a practice programm for himself. He couldn't rely on computers
for help, since anything digital could be found and used against him. So he
started out simple, by watching Divine from afar while forcing himself not to
revert into his submissive persona. It was hard at first, his conditioning had
been deeply implemented into his consciousness and threatened to take hold of
his actions whenever Divine was near.
He also had to become an incredibly skilled actor so that Divine wouldn't learn
of his inner rebllion, and that was probably the hardest part. His submission
had to appear natural and easy, not at all forced. At the beginning that was
easier than Seto would have liked, but the harder it became for him to be
Divine's slave the better he felt about himself and the stronger he got.
He had a long way to go though, and kneeling before Divine was still easier on
his troubled mind than standing. But part of him wanted to face the man, even
when he was in the room. For now, that was enough.

*

Multitasking was the key to this particular operation. Seto was working on a
program on his laptop – something trivial related to the integration of duels
into the city's growing infrastructure – while browsing business related
documents on his computer; at the same time, his smart phone was hacked into the
Arcadia Movement's security protocols, showing the image of a single, darkened
cell.
Every now and then Seto's hand seemed to randomly brush his phone when in
reality he slowly entered the commands needed for his plan.
Light came on within the tiny room so he could see its occupant. From what Seto
could tell he was surprisingly well kept, clean and healthy, if rather thin (the
documents indicated as much as well). A few strokes on the sensitive touch
screen and he had sound, too.
The young man had been alerted by the sudden light but kept calm so far, a
reaction Seto valued in his guinea pig. Moments later, the words he had entered
appeared on a small screen inside the boy's cell.
	“door unlocked”
Yusei Fudo looked around before trying the door, easily locating the camera in
the corner.
“I need my D-Wheel.”, he stated simply, his voice hoarse from lack of use.
Seto wanted to groan in frustration but allowed himself no such weakness,
especially since he had almost expected such nonsense.
	“confirmed”
He typed and coded the little display into showing a makeshift map of the
complex, including the location of a certain motorcycle – confiscated years
ago and stored away instead of being distroyed for reasons Seto couldn't
fathom.
From then on the boy was on his own. Seto cut the connection and erased all
traces of it from the system and his phone. He took a deep breath and then
brought his attention back to his projects. Curiously he found a new fascination
for the duelling program, and when he came to the aspect of riding duels he
couldn't help the sudden image of a motorcycle that had the distinct features of
a certain dragon.
He smirked, discarding the idea with a mental shrug.

Some day, maybe.


(TBC)




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