I'm deciding to write this story after a long battle with myself over the moral issues it creates. Before I start I would like to say that this type of situation happens quite often, but it has, fortunately, never happened to me or anyone I know. I do not claim to know a lot about anything like this, but I was deeply interested in writing about it so as to put my questions to rest. Can people be saved once they go this far into hell? I hope this doesn't offend anyone. I want you to know that it's purely for me and that I do not advocate this kind of thing in the slightest. I apologize in advance for those reading this that will not like it. (But don't take it too seriously, guys, it's just a story.)

A/N: As per usual, this story is told from Seto's POV. But, this story, unlike all my other ones, takes place in Japan and I'm going to use the real Japanese names for the characters, I've always wanted to do that. (Oh and pay no mind to the reference to American money I put in here…just pretend that it's in yen, alright? I honestly don't know how the yen dollars work, I know only that it's certainly not an even exchange, so let's just leave it at that.)

Warning: If you are underage or otherwise immature, you should not be reading this...it contains obvious adult themes and malexmale, yaoi, homosexuality on a lot of levels. Please don't read if you don't like or are too young, please don't!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or mentions of Pretty Woman, (that one mention of it).

Escape Through Me

Chapter One: Prior Engagements

The room was dark. Two shadow-like creatures stood in the dim light of an office desk lamp. The underside of a man's double chins, some slight stubble, the shoulders of his expensive XXL suit, and the red handkerchief stiffly poking out of his breast pocket were all that could be immediately seen. Eyes glowed in the dark, the man's pair of muddy brown and my own azure blue ones.

There was a slight spark in the darkness, a minor red glow for one second, as the man took a drag off his cigar. Only moments later a cloud of cancerous smog left his mouth and entered the vicinity of his substantially large office.

My heart pounded in my chest. This was the beginning, the alpha, the prologue to the tragedy that was to become my life. I dug my fingernails into sweaty palms. Could I really do this?

"Well, I'm waiting," he said smugly, taking another puff.

I swallowed hard and tried to remind myself that nothing scared me. I was strong and invincible. I was Kaiba Seto. But all those thoughts seemed so small right now, in the actual face of the demon.

Unable to move, I stood there trying to regulate my own breathing. Then, quite loudly, he began drumming his fat, stumpy fingers on the corner of his desk. "I don't have all night," he told me, as if I was a mere servant or cheap business partner. But then again I was his cheap business partner, or at least I was when we set up this arrangement.

He would not wait forever. If I didn't do this now, my company and my life would be destroyed. It was a matter of pride and nothing more.

Setting down my brief case, I pasted a look of pure apathy on my face and began to undress. I didn't want this to be…at the moment I wanted anyone but him to be sitting there in front of me, waiting to be pleased by my body. But I had no choice, there was nothing standing in front of me blocking my way for safety. This was for real.

When I was down to nothing but my boxers, the fat man named Toshokama traversed the length of his desk and stood by my side. He instructed me to do as he wished and for the first time in what seemed like so long, I actually did as I was told to.

Later on in the evening, I tried not to concentrate on him slamming into me, hurting me, damaging me, scarring me. I tried to think about anything else, anything in the world, (even Motou Yuugi or Katsuya Jonouchi). I tried to think sweet things, like Mokuba singing a cute song and giving me a flower for my birthday because we couldn't afford anything else in the orphanage. I tried to think of my mother, her soft hands holding me close, embracing me, giving my strength and loving me. But all that came to mind was her death, the horrors she suffered in a head-on car collision, Mokuba crying because I had hit him when he told me he loved me, the sad defeat Yuugi handed me that day, and the way Katsuya hated me and would have probably enjoyed witnessing the pathetic scene at hand.

He finished only after the worst was over, (something I'm still not sure I should count as a blessing or a misfortune). Indifferently, he got out and off of me and put his suit back on. I lay there, bleeding and in shock from his roughness, quite unable to get up.

"Get up, whore," he spit at me. "Leave before my wife comes home."

Shakily, I moved to raise myself into a slow sitting position. Just as I thought I had gathered enough strength, he stomped a fat foot on the small of my back, pushing me face first into the carpet. He bellowed his laughter at me and I had to willingly tell myself not to kill him. It would have been so easy…but I fought this. I couldn't kill him before the deal had been officially made. Otherwise it would have all been for nothing.

When he was done with his sick torment and shredding of my pride, I re-gathered my strength and stood up, trying to dress myself with trembling hands. As I was about to leave, I grabbed my brief case off the floor and set it on his desk with a loud smack.

"Our—our bargain?" I hated having to stutter, but my tongue didn't want to work with me.

He was back behind his desk, the same damn light still on, reaching into his desk for another cigar. It was as if nothing happened. He could do that to someone and not even care. I despised him.

Waving a hand dismissively, he said, "But of course, Seto Kaiba…you held up your end, I'll hold up mine."

"Good." I opened my brief case. It was empty, exactly as I had left it. I flipped the open end to his side of the desk and told him, "Put the money in here."

He lit the brown stump between his fingers and pulled a single wad of cash from his jacket. Gently, he placed it in the wide brief case and turned his back to me, as if sending me away. Apprehensible, I peered at the money. It did not look at all like $600,000.

So, I picked it up and counted it quickly. My insides froze solid. I felt my lips turn as blue as my eyes from shear shock. This money was not nearly as much as he had said…

"This…this is not at all what we agreed on Monday. You've cheated me, Toshokama." I was sure we had said $600,000. I was absolutely positive. I wondered: Why was he doing this? Had he not gotten what he wanted and then some?

"It appears we both agreed on something different, then. I remember being distinctly told that I was to give you $6,000 to aid your rapidly failing company, Kaiba-san. Perhaps it is your failure as a businessman to communicate properly. It is certainly not mine." I blinked at him. I knew where this was going. He never had any intention to give me that amount of money. I realized now what a fool I had been.

I began to feel anger rise through me. "It was $600,000 and you know it."

Still leaving me with only his back to shout at, he said, "Now you're just being greedy, Kaiba-san, and trying to trick an old man into giving you one hundred times as much as was said."

Anger turned into fear. Was this really all that I was going to be given for that act of desperation? Only $6,000 that I could earn doing something much less degrading and even perhaps enjoyable? The goddamn Duelist Kingdom Tournament offered more money than this, and that I could have won that with my eyes closed, if Pegasus had played fair.

"Toshokama. I am not in a joking mood. Do not give me this measly amount of money and expect me to just walk away satisfied. Give me the full $600,000 or…" I hesitated saying this. "…I will kill you."

At this, his chair swiveled around and he faced me, smirking. "You'll kill me, Kaiba-san? And what purpose would that serve? You'd still be out the money, and you'd still have a failing company. Think it through for once, faggot."

I blinked and looked away. This was true. And if I did kill him I'd just be liable for murder and thrown in jail to watch the slow demise of my company from a cell cable television. That was not appealing in the slightest.

I realized that this was all I was going to be getting on this night. On this night. He probably expected something more from me…sorrow coursed through me. This was not the last time at all. He never intended for it to be. I sighed. "What else do you want, Toshokama?"

His eyes lit up like little piglets. "Friday. You're here, same time, same place, same thing. No more, no less."

I sighed. Every single nerve cell in my body was screaming at me to forget this place, leave this nightmare behind, repress the memories and try to revive my company by legal means. I didn't honestly feel that I could withstand being sodomized by this bastard again. I honestly didn't…but…I needed that money so badly…my life practically depended on it. What kind of man would I be without a company? What would my stepfather's death have been for? What would I be to Mokuba? A big brother that failed to keep a company on his own? A pathetic, sorry, worthless being without a purpose in life is all that I would amount to. I knew that.

So, trying to suppress all thoughts of going back from here, I raised my chin high and said, "What do I get?"

"I'll give you $80,000…and," he added this part with a look one would usually reserve for an incompetent child, "if you're good, the rest of tonight's payment."

I sighed. I hardly believed he would make good on that bargain if he hadn't even given me the right payment tonight, but I just had to believe in this. It was my last hope.

Without another moment's hesitation, (I suddenly felt like I just wanted this to be over), I shoved my hand in his face, a signal for us to shake hands on it and make it final. Once that was done, I closed the briefcase on the pitifully small clasp of money and left his mansion.

The night air greeted me solemnly and yet refreshingly. I hated the clean feeling that was blowing through the town, the freshness. For I myself felt dirty, unclean, like I hadn't bathed in over a year. Yet, I still managed to put one foot in front of the other and make my way to the airport.

Toshokama lived all the way in Nagasaki, a long way from my home town of Domino. I had to take a flight there, in the middle of the night. It looked like I was going to be doing this again on Friday, as well. Mokuba would be furious. I had already had to lie and tell him that all this was only a business trip, would he believe it again? Yes, he probably would. Mokuba believed everything I told him, practically. If it came from Nii-sama's mouth, it must be true. This was partially good and yet partially bad. I never had to tell him the truth, but I always felt like the bad guy in the end.

At the airport, a couple of sleepy flight attendants and some weary passengers grumbled and groaned on their way home or to different flights. I talked to the employee at the reservation desk. She was helpful, if a little high-strung from gallons of caffeine.

Her smile was bright and almost painful to look at. She was wearing light pink lipstick and had the whitest teeth I'm sure I had ever seen. They blinded my eyes, which had seen only the dim light of Toshokama's house for the past three hours. Somehow I felt hurt by her cheeriness. Her willingness to comply only sickened my already queasy stomach. I wanted to hold her down and choke her until the smile wore off. But I had the weirdest feeling that even if I did she would just keep that fake smile plastered right on there.

"Name please, and do you have a reservation?" She said in the sweetest, most unbelievably fake tone. Was she real? Was she human? Did she bleed red?

Feeling dead, I responded, "Kaiba Seto and yes I do," with no vigor at all.

She began typing furiously on her computer, searching for my reservation. I couldn't stand to look at her. I turned my gaze to the lobby of busy people. Tourists and citizens floated past me of all races, ages, and body types. There was a man dressed in rags sitting near one of the ticket booths, begging for spare change. He held a sign that just said one thing: "Onegai Shimasu" ("Please"). Next to the sign was a cup filled with a few coins. Horrified, I looked away. Would that be me in a few months, sitting there begging people for change, the CEO who couldn't handle the company and went bankrupt, lost his pretty house and everything he had? People would pass by me holding their noses because I was so unclean, and they would whisper about me, ("Isn't that the child prodigy you used to hear about, some Kasha Seto or something?" "Oh yes, I think so…he used to be so handsome, look at him now, sitting there." "Kaiba Seto, that was it!" "Hmm…I guess you just never know, right? You just never know." "How pathetic.")

"Right! Here you are!" Dragging me out of my horrific daydream, the employee began telling me what flight number I had and what time it would be leaving. I nodded dumbly through it all, until I made reservations for Friday. Amazingly she smiled through that, too. After a while, the girl gave me the ticket and said, "Enjoy your flight." I was flashed one extra-big smile. Then she directed her gaze toward the person behind me, moving on. All day there were thousands of people, thousands of smiles. I sighed. It was so easy to loose your sanity in this life.

I began walking away, heading toward the loading track of my flight to Domino, Track #32. On my way there, I headed inevitably in the direction of the homeless beggar with the sign. I tried not to look at him, to think of Mokuba and how I would tuck him in when I got home if he was still awake, but I couldn't help it. Just as I was passing him, my gaze shifted onto him, sitting right next to me, so close that I could touch him.

Somehow his eyes locked right onto mine and we met for one brief instant, I saw into his blood-shot eyes and took in the dirt and slime attached to his beard and ripped clothing. He smelled like old cigarettes and body odor. His hands and dirty fingernails gripped the sign and left smudges of dirt on it.

But he was wearing my face.

I felt my stomach churn. Vomit was in the back of my throat. I shattered our connective stare and ran for dear life into the Men's Room. Bright, fluorescent lighting and the smell of stale urine met me as I threw down my practically empty briefcase and thrust my head in the sink, just in time to throw up all the contents in my weak stomach.

I gripped the porcelain sink until I was finished. Hesitantly, almost scared, I looked into the blurry mirror. All I saw was myself, my own Seto Kaiba self. I was the same as always when I stared into the mirror, (only now I had an unattractive line of vomit tracing down my chin).

I looked away from the reflective glass and wiped the vomit off my chin. That was never going to happen to me. I was never going to be that poor; I would never let myself sink that low. Even if it meant being raped and cheated again and again by Toshokama until I died, I would die keeping my company. There was no other way for me.

I popped a piece of gum in my mouth to neutralize the smell, grabbed my briefcase and headed onto my flight. It was always such a long, slow process, moving onto the plane and gathering the tickets. There were so many people lined up for the flight, how could anyone make sense of it all? They were like cattle, moving this way and that, needing to be told what direction to go in, waiting for their masters to come and herd them.

The plane was small, it needed to be moved up in size, but I hadn't taken the highest class of a trip because lately I had been saving my money, investing everything in the company, trying to keep it alive as long as I could. That meant no extra spending and no "rich" stuff. I had even sold my private jet and two of my limousines.

I felt trapped on this airplane, there were too many people blocking my way, moving about, loading suitcases. Babies cried, people sneezed, depraved children pulled out video games and walkmans for the ride, and of course there was the usual murmur of various and numerous conversations in many languages.

I had chosen a window seat thankfully, I had something else to look at other than the ugly face of the old woman next to me (a skinny thing that had a hacking cough and kept taking shaky sips of the ginger ale they served).

Slowly, I eased myself into my seat, paying attention to the soreness in my rectum and the forming bruise on my lower back from where Toshoyama had stomped on me. It was enough to make me grimace as I sat, trying to be as discreet as possible, and trying to deny the excruciating pain traveling up my spinal cord.

I took a deep breath and decided to check on my company, before the pilot got onto the loud speaker. I pulled out my laptop and stared numbly at the number my computer registered as the worth of my stocks. $40. An all time low. Just three months ago I had been at $50,000…I gulped when I saw this vile digital presentation. That meant only the worst things were in store.

Suddenly a man's voice went on overheard. "Attention passengers, I am your pilot, Takanawa Yamichi. This is the flight going from Nagasaki to the town of Domino. It lasts from 1:00 a.m. to 3:30 a.m. We will be showing the movie Pretty Woman in Japanese subtitles, which is viewable for all audiences. I hope you enjoy your flight, now please pay attention to the hostess Michisawa-san who will instruct you on the proper procedures in emergencies."

Yes, yes. I had heard this all before. And I really didn't care. If the plane was to crash and burn right at that moment it would be all the better for me.

I shifted a little in my velour chair. Although it was cushioned nicely, I still felt the pain.

Well, I would just have to ignore it. There was nothing I could about it at present. So, I attempted to get my mind off it by tapping into my company's bank account and investing $5,999 in the account, (as company rule, you had to keep at least one dollar from every cash investment and put it in the emergency savings. It was designed so that even if one year the company made $0 in products and selling, there would be enough money to keep company going. Soon, I knew I would be searching into this fund, needing the extra money).

For the rest of the way I worked on the woeful business, trying to find new ways of gaining money that I hadn't noticed the other hundred times I looked, scouring the Kaiba Corporations mainframe. But, as usual, I came up empty. All my resources had been dried out ever since people lost interest in duel monsters and started concentrating on other things, things that had nothing to do with the game. I should have put my company into something else, something more necessary for human life.

Tooth brushes. That's what I should have made. I bet you that the CEOs of those companies never had to resort to prostitution to keep their companies going.

But I knew nothing about tooth brushes. And I had started a company in the duel monsters game and now I was paying the price.

Towards the end of the flight, the woman next to me began giving me sideways glances and eerie looks out of the corner of her eye. It was odd, but I was used to it. When you become famous all hell breaks loose and everyone knows your name.

Just as the plane landed and everyone got out of their seats to gather up packages and such for the drive home or to their hotels, (if I looked out the window I could see the familiar lights of my town staring back at me, always a comfort), she turned around and asked in fragile, ancient voice, "Hey, aren't you that handsome young man that owns a company? Kaiba Seto?" At the mention of my name, the people around us began whispering and pointing at me from across the aisle. Somehow I saw the look of ghosts in their faces. They reminded me of dead things, things that were no longer alive.

I stared at them all with empty blue eyes. "Yes."

She seemed delighted. "Oh, I've read about you so many times in the papers…my granddaughter really admires you, you know. May I please have your autograph?"

Obviously this woman was behind the times. Oh well. Maybe it would make me feel better to sign another autograph. Yeah, right.

"Sure," I told her and reached into my pocket for some paper. I wrote my name out in thick black lines. Just to make her happy, I even spit out my gum and wrapped it in the paper, so her daughter could idolize something that had actually been in my mouth, (teenagers did that kind of thing, but luckily for her she may never know of the vomit traces on the gum). "There you are."

"Arigatou gozaimasu! Thank you so much, Kaiba-sama. This will mean the world to my granddaughter."

"Sure," I said again. I was happy to leave the plane. I had thought signing an autograph would make me feel better, but in reality I just felt worse. Much worse. Now I knew that people were out there watching me, looking into my every failure and success. The thought sickened me.

Once I got into my limousine, (the last one in my possession to be honest), and was driven home by one of my die-hard drivers, Nakamura, I felt the full force of what I had done that night in Nagasaki. There was no turning back, now. I was into this…what more would I have to do to get my life back on track?

Just as I entered my darkened home, I felt my cell phone ring. Fear shot through me quickly. What if it was Toshokama? No…no…it couldn't be.

I took it out and flipped it on. "Moshi moshi?"

A familiar voice washed over me. "Kaiba-sama!" It was only Ichigata, the vice president of my company. He and I had been seeing a lot of each other lately trying to deal with the problem at hand. His voice offered normality and comforted me.

"Konbanwa, Ichigata. Good evening."

"Uh…it's morning, sir."

Oh right. "Why, yes it is, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah…listen, why weren't you at the meeting tonight?"

I blinked and took off my coat in the living room, getting ready for sleep, if it was so kind as to come to me. "What meeting?"

"The meeting tonight with those people from Industrial Illusions! It was highly important, sir, it could have saved us!"

I had forgotten about that meeting but it didn't matter in the slightest. "Gomen nasai, Ichigata, I forgot about that. I had…prior engagements to attend to. But it's alright. I'm sure that Industrial Illusions is just as poor as we are right now what with Pegasus being conspicuously absent and the lack of interest in duel monsters internationally."

"I…suppose you're right. But what abut these engagements, Kaiba-sama? Who are you visiting?"

"Toshokama. We have been discussing the state of my company; he has found it in his heart to invest in us. Just tonight he gave me $6,000." That hurt so badly saying that.

"Only $6,000? Sir, missing the meeting was one thing, but missing it just so you could get a measly $6,000 is quite another. I do not mean to be presumptuous, but—.."

"Silence, Ichigata," I commanded. I still had the power of voice in me. "Do not forget that I am still your boss. Watch your tone."

"Of—of course, sir. Gomen nasai."

"Good night, Ichigata, I am going to sleep now. I'll be there in the morning before school."

"But sir—.."

I hung up. I didn't want to think about that right now.

I trudged upstairs to the bedrooms. I checked in on Mokuba quickly, to see that he was indeed asleep, innocently dreaming of a better world hopefully. Seeing his face and the softness of his features gave me some condolence, but not much. It just made me feel unclean even more than I did before.

Practically running, I left his room and shut the door. I would see him tomorrow, I couldn't deal with all the issues Mokuba brought up right now.

Safely in my room, I threw my clothes on the floor and ripped open the drawer on my nightstand. Where the hell were those sleep-aids? I was knocking things aside and throwing some things on the floor in my haste.

Finally, I found them. Beautiful blue and white bottle, glorious yellow and red gel tablets. Wonderful pain in my throat as I swallow four, (the usual dosage being two), simultaneously and without water. In the past months, these pills had been my best friends, I had gone through almost the entire bottle. I just needed something to calm my system, something to make me relax. They worked perfectly.

Feeling light headed, I lay down on my bed and stared at the blank ceiling. I tried to chase some of the thoughts in my head, but none of them followed through. They had beginnings but no end. My eyes weighed down heavily…sleep called to me.

One single thought branded through the medicated fog: I had officially been branded as a prostitute, I had done the unthinkable. My life was no longer my own. That thought was too much.

I closed my eyes, finally. Thank you, that feels so much better.

As sleep began to claim me, I concentrated on spreading a feeling of numbness through-out my body, something to dull the pain of my actions. Anything would help. I concentrated on it, and eventually it did appear. But I still felt the physical pain from what he had done to me. I wondered if I could ever forget this night, this one night of desperation that had changed me permanently.

I opened my eyes, (the pills taking time to course through my blood and spread), and stared at the blank ceiling. What am I? What in God's name am I? I wondered.

Nothing, I thought. You are nothing.

A/N: First chapter down. This took me all day to write… I've been spending way too much time in front of a computer screen, lately. Anyway, I hope it wasn't horrible, I'm still trying to work on this, please review and tell me if this is even worthwhile. I hope so.

Thanks for giving it a try.