Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely

By Quatre Winner

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Pairing: Quatre/f

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Ain't gettin' paid.

Warnings: rape.

By Quatre Winner


She rode faster, harder, driving herself down onto the thrashing hips beneath her, taking the smooth glistening spike of flesh deep into her. The boy beneath her twisted and fought, trying to get the pillow away from his face.

He didn't know why he couldn't fight the woman off. He suspected that she had drugged him in some way. Just enough to weaken him, but not enough to affect his arousal.

His arousal. His mind rejected that term with utter disgust at such a word being used to describe his condition. He was no more aroused by this rape than he might have been by being smashed face-first into a brick wall. It made him feel dirty.

With a cry of delight the woman came, her inner muscles clenching down upon the erection trapped inside her bringing her unwilling mate over the edge.

Feeling the woman rise up off of his now-softening erection, the young heir waited until she was out of the room, then reached over to the bathrobe that hung on the chair near the bed. Reaching into a pocket, he dialed a number.

"Rashid," Quatre said, his voice trembling with rage, disgust, self-loathing, and grief as tears trickled down his face, "get your men to the main Estate ASAP. I've just been raped."

-Chapter Two-

Quatre threw his clothes on, keeping his head down. He didn't want to look at the way the room was spinning now. It made his head hurt. As he passed a mirror, he caught sight of his reflection and paused.

"You're dirty," he told it, a tone of disgust in his voice. "You're filthy and disgusting and you have no right to be alive. You deserved what she did to you. You should apologize to that poor girl for getting her dirty with your filthy seed."

The image changed, turning to that of an attractive woman. Quatre knew her, though he had never met her, and his tears increased.

"You are *not* dirty, my son." Quatre's mother said, her tone a mixture of anger and pity. "You
did nothing wrong. You were raped, just as you said."

"I'm garbage!" Quatre screamed, hurling a chair at the mirror and shattering it. He didn't need to be coddled. He didn't need some ghost telling him he was worth something when he knew that
just was not true. Not any more.

Rashid heard the sound of glass shattering and hurried into the room. Pity overcame his heart as he looked down at the crumpled, sobbing form. Quatre was surrounded by broken shards of the mirror. Each reflected the anguished boy. Reaching down, mindful of Quatre's earlier message, he scooped Quatre up and put him to bed, covering him with a blanket. Then he
called Quatre's private physician and went about the task of cleaning up the room.

END PART 1
(TBC...)
QuatreRaberbaWinner@hotpop.com