Stormy Skies

Title: Stormy Skies
Chapter: Three - “Advised”
Word Count: 9,399
Warnings: Language, sexual situations (finally! :3)


Hello everyone! Um, I would first like to start by saying that I did, in fact, notice that my story randomly ended up on the front page along with all the other recently updated stories when I had not, in fact, updated. I have no idea why this happened. So, I’m sorry if some of you saw it and were then disappointed when you found out there was no new chapter, even though it wasn’t technically my fault O.o Sorryyy!

Now! To thank everyone for all the absolutely LOVELY reviews I’ve been getting! I’m so, so thankful! I wish I could give you all hugs ^^ Thank yooouuuu!

Now to respond to some reviewers:

aisha: Oooh! Thank you for your continued enthusiasm! xD It makes me so happy. Thank you for your lovely review!

tamingriki: I’m glad I surprised you ^^ I actually wanted to tell you that I love your review name - I enjoy the Taming Riki stories. Kira Takenouchi is so good @_@

KatFo: Is Raiser uke? I’m not telllliiiing :333

kiix: Oh my oh my, I was charmed by your long review! ^^;; Thank you so much! And, a peek-a-boo cloud? I laughed quite hard at the image that popped into my mind xD Especially the ‘millions of cotton balls glued to his ass’ comment. Once again, thank you!

Ella: Oh, WOW. I was so shocked that someone cared enough to write such a long review! I like, almost cried, I was so shocked and happy to find that someone enjoyed my story that much. It was such a motivation for me! And all the lovely things you said - I cannot describe how much your review meant to me. Really, I thank you so, so much! Please, enjoy this next chapter! (It has some of the smut you were waiting for! :3) *hugs*

SecretQuill: Oh, no worries! I’m not a fan of torture fics myself - I really think they’re kind of icky D: So fear not! You wont find any icky torture in this story. Just sexy seduction :DDD Thanks!

SeriouslyJoking: xD I love how you were the only person who was mad at Raiser for disrupting Alex’s life - it made me chuckle quite a bit! Especially when you called Raiser a ‘child freak.’ Funny funny ^^

I wish I could respond to everyone’s reviews, but I’m afraid it would then take up too much space ): But believe me, I am very thankful for each and every review I get! So thank you all very, very much!

And, please, do keep those reviews coming! They just make me feel so happy and motivated ^^ I love them!

Illustrations! I drew my boys :3
Here we have Raiser, (which I don't think came out too good =_=): http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v708/free_magos_here/stormking.jpg
And here is Alex!: http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v708/free_magos_here/stormalex.jpg
I hope you like them ^^

Alright, without further ado, here is the next chapter. Please enjoy!



~~~~~
Chapter Three - Advised

He had never felt quite this helpless in his entire life.

As Alex lay on the bed, arm still sore from his brief punishment, he had never felt so unable to act upon his instincts as he did in that moment. Not even when the Shadow beasts had abducted him - at least then he had been able to follow his gut feelings, trying to run from them to seek safety - but now, he was trapped. Pinned beneath a boy, (No, monster, he corrected himself,) who he could not even look in the eye. He shuddered, feeling displaced and out of sorts and, above all, frightened. Terribly frightened.

He made a small noise of uncomfortable surprise as the King, still kissing him, pushed his shoulders into the sheets a little with his unusual strength. The boy possessed far more physical power than his small muscles should have provided. Alex cursed himself for ever attacking him, realizing just how foolish the heated, spur-of-the-moment decision had been. He’s a fucking god, for Christ’s sake, he scolded himself angrily, now you’ve gone and gotten yourself raped. His brow knitted with the apprehension of not knowing what was going to happen to him within the next few moments, and his lack of control over the situation only added to his dread. He was terribly, utterly helpless to stop the blond from taking anything he wanted, which was a frightening thought.

They continued to kiss, and Alex responded to the Raiser’s gently insisting lips only because he was too afraid to displease the boy. His arm was sore now, but he knew it would be throbbing later. It had taken the King only a few quick moments to impart that damage, and he had only been displeased, not upset. Alex did not wish to discover what would happen if the King were to become angry. So, nervously, he did what was expected of him - at least for the moment, until he knew he was no longer in danger.

The boy sighed delightedly, savoring to first feel of his pet’s responding lips. The blond was no fool - he knew the taller man only returned the kiss out of fear of reprimand, but that did not suppress his pleasure. The warm touch of the brunet’s apprehensive, unsure mouth was pure deliciousness. He inhaled sharply through his nose, relishing the man’s incredibly human scents - all warm flesh and musky maleness. They were smells only someone who was not human could detect, and were surprisingly invigorating in their lush, luxuriant sensuality and realness. It had been quite a while since the King was last near a true human, and he found his body responding far more quickly than he had expected it to.

The kiss was long and experimental, each carefully gathering a feel for the other. The Raiser softly surged his lips over his pet’s, establishing a slow, leisurely rhythm. He wanted to savor him. Alex, for his part, was responsive, meeting each gentle press of the blond’s fleshy lips with feigned eagerness, trying his best not to displease his new owner for the sake of his own health. The room was silent but for the whispering noises of cloth against cloth, and the shallow breaths taken between kisses.

The King brought his hand to Alex’s hair, stroking his fingers through the thick mass of short, chocolate brown strands. The man’s hair felt soft and warm in his grasp. His pet responded with a small, helpless noise, unsure of what his new owner meant to do next. The blond smiled minimally against his lips, and, with a soft sigh of pure pleasure, slipped his tongue into his toy’s mouth.

The man did not respond at first, pausing in his kissing as his obvious surprise toward the action washed over him, but he soon found himself again and carefully reacted by allowing the smaller man to explore as he wished. The soft, warm tongue moved leisurely about his mouth, exploring the cavern with sensuous, slow touches that - if Alex hadn’t been so worried for his well-being - would have driven the man crazy. He flushed slightly, angry at himself for allowing the thought to cross him mind, but was still too frightened to pull any great amount of pleasure from their intimate activities.

The small King continued to greedily delve his possession’s mouth, using the hand snuggled tightly in the man’s hair to tilt his head back a small bit, for a better angle. Alex allowed himself to be readjusted without resistance, like a rag doll. The blond probed and pleased with his sleek muscle, silently inviting the taller man to respond. When the man did not, he slowly rubbed his tongue against Alex’s, to better make his request known.

The dark-haired man’s brow remained furrowed as he realized what the King wanted and, somewhat reluctantly, obeyed. He hesitantly grazed the tip of his tongue against his owner’s, who released a long, delighted sigh at the sensation. Alex continued to slowly caress his muscle against the blond’s with a bit less hesitation, and the boy’s body surged in reaction, his hand winding itself more tightly into the brunet’s hair, and his spine arching downward to press himself flush against the other. Alex’s hands clutched the bed sheets tightly, the response feeding his sensitized nerves as well as his apprehension.

They continued in that manner for a short while, gently exploring each other’s mouths, until the King broke away. His breathing was only slightly labored, and he panted softly against the taller man’s lips as his pet did the same. He smiled down at the brunet.

“You are trying very hard to please me, I can tell,” he spoke breathily, their lips still very close, “and it drives me mad. This sudden obedience of yours is thrilling.” Alex shuddered and said nothing, steadily meeting his owner’s gaze with nervousness. “Do not be afraid. You may speak,” the blond continued, “if fact, I wish you to speak. I want to hear that lovely voice of yours.” He stared down with lust-hazed eyes, expectant.

Alex swallowed, feeling uneasy. What the hell does he want me to say? “I’m sorry… for trying to punch you,” he said at last, deciding that, at this point, his only means of escape was through pleading. “I… realize that it was foolish. Really, I apologize. Please let me go. Don’t make me do this. Please.” He winced internally at how pathetic he sounded.

The King’s smile turned up at one corner. A smirk, great, Alex thought, worried.

“Are you begging, sweet little pet?” the Raiser spoke, amusement clear underneath his arousal. “How enticing. You tempt me more.”

“Please-” Alex went on, beginning to grow desperate, “I can’t - I don’t - I don’t think I’ll be able-”

“Oh,” the blond interrupted him, his honey voice ripe with heated, tangible desire. He suddenly shifted, sitting up, placing a leg on either side of the man’s waist. “Trust me, my lovely, you’ll be able.” He readjusted his robes, pulling them out from underneath himself, and Alex suddenly felt the boy’s bare, warm thighs pressed against his still-clothed stomach. He could feel the distinct presence of the King’s half-awakened arousal pressed against him.

Oh god, he thought, jamming his eyes shut, and even his internal voice sounded flustered and frenzied. His heart was suddenly pounding, and he clutched the sheets with yet more force.

The Raiser leaned forward, once again pressing his lips against the shell of his pet’s ear. “I have watched you and that pathetically bothersome ex-lover of yours make love more times than you know,” he whispered as though it were some great secret, and Alex’s eyes snapped open with shocked suddenness, “and I know just what you like.” He lifted his head a little, and pressed his lips to the brunet’s once more, tangling his slender hands into the taller man’s hair.

Alex felt a red flush of embarrassment burn fiercely against his cheeks. That… that little voyeur bastard…! He thought, angrily.

This time the King kissed more vigorously than before. Alex, still put off from the realization that he and Danny had been spied upon, was unresponsive. However, a sudden, sharp tug to his hair jarred the man back into the moment, and reluctantly he began to respond. He was not angry enough to forget what the smaller man was capable of.

They kissed as they had before, tongues intermingled and flush and hot, and the blond expressed his approval with breathy, soft noises that were not far from moans. Alex’s anger steadily began to wane as he was reminded of his predicament - of what he was expected to do - and he suddenly became very worried. Oh, god, this psycho kid was going to - to make him -

Alex gasped as the blond unexpectedly rolled his hips, and tightly pressed his awakening manhood against his pet’s abdomen. The heat emanating from the sensitive area was not at all suppressed by the taller man’s thin robe. He could clearly feel what was happening between the boy’s thighs. Something low in Alex’s gut began to prickle pleasantly, despite his frenzied, upset mental panic.

Oh god, oh fuck, oh god, he chanted in his mind, terrified. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be held down and forced to-

The blond suddenly repeated the motion, sluggishly rocking his hips in time to the more vigorous rhythm happening between their lips, and another wave of panic spiked in Alex’s mind. His eyes were jammed tightly shut, scrunched and strained, as he began to shift uneasily. He didn’t care that a steady warmth was growing low in his belly - it didn’t matter if his body reacted or not - he didn’t want to be raped by this bizarre, psychotic kidnapper.

The blond noticed Alex’s uneasy motions, and paused in kissing him. He broke away, cheeks tinted a soft pink, hazel orbs half-lidded. “Upset, my beautiful man?” he breathed.

“Please-” Alex opened his eyes a little, distress clearly displayed on his features. “I don’t want - please don’t make me…!”

“Hush,” the King replied, and began moving against him once more. “Relax and enjoy yourself.” He returned his lips to Alex’s.

The brunet whimpered uncomfortably, but did not dare to try and stop him.

They continued to explore each other’s mouths, the pace slowly becoming more energetic, until the Raiser suddenly pulled away. He kissed a line to Alex’s jaw, flicking his tongue out and gently catching the skin between his teeth in sensual little nips, before slowly moving downward to romance the man’s neck. Still massaging his manhood against the pet without shame, he bit lightly at the tender skin just below Alex’s jaw, breathing and lapping his tongue over the little red areas he left behind. He kissed a small line lower, and gently dragged his teeth down the column in a teasing manor until he reached the man’s collar bone. Alex inhaled sharply at the sensation of the King’s warm teeth rasping over his skin - Oh, god, please let this stop, he begged, silently.

The Raiser kissed the man’s clavicle like a lover, softly pressing his lips to the thin, sensitive flesh and ghosting his wet, warm tongue over it. He bit gently, not even leaving teeth marks - it was not enough to cause pain, but just enough to cause sensation. Alex squirmed more, his uneasiness growing rapidly.

As the small blond lavished affection onto Alex’s heated flesh, he pulled his hands from the taller man’s chocolate hair and brought them down to the first tie of his robe, just beneath his chest. The dark-haired man felt a sudden burst of panic shoot through him as the slim, nimble fingers easily pulled the knot undone. The Raiser opened the top of the garment and splayed his hands over the man’s smooth chest, pressing his hips against his pet with more force.

Without thinking, Alex brought his hands up and grabbed the shorter man’s shoulders, but stopped himself from pushing him away. Don’t make the same mistake twice, he spoke to himself, trying to remain calm despite his shaking, frightened nerves.

The King paused once again. “Why are you still so afraid?” he asked, voice slightly annoyed. “You are reacting well, are you not?” He sat up once more, reaching behind himself and groping shamelessly at Alex’s half aroused member through his robe.

“A… ah-!” the man made a surprised noise at the sudden action and struggled instinctively, trying to escape the blond’s rummaging fingers.

“You see? I can feel that you are beginning to enjoy this. Now,” he leaned forward once more, to pick up where he had left off, “allow me to wash away your fears.” He placed a kiss in the center of the brunet’s chest, and opened the second tie, exposing more of his new toy.

Alex’s breathing became more labored as the blond’s hands began to roam over his exposed flesh. The smaller man dragged his palms roughly over his pet’s slightly perspiring skin, lazily relishing every dip and curve and bump he encountered. He kissed him in the same manor; with lazy, slow, savoring motions, he carefully made his way to one copper nipple.

The dark-haired man gasped sharply as the King took the bud of sensitive flesh into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it teasingly before slowly dragging the hot, wet muscle across it, causing the nub to harden quickly. Alex was still panicked, desperately trying to devise a way to convince the smaller man to stop. It was difficult, with his body responding to the ministrations as it was. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be a slave, he didn’t want to stay in this bizarre place, he just wanted to go home, to be left alone-

The Raiser caught the hardened bud between his teeth, nipping sharply, and Alex cried out from the surprise of it. But the blond quickly released the flesh and pulled his tongue across it once again, as if in apology. Anxiety rising, Alex gasped repeatedly, his whole body trembling. Oh god, how? he thought desperately. How do I get him to stop without getting my arms broken? How do I make him leave me alone without getting my head bashed in? Shit, shit… He winced as the blond reached to gently pinch his other nipple, the action causing sensation to zap down his spine, into his groin.

The smaller man released the abused bud from between his lips and spoke, the breaths from his words rushing over the tingling flesh. “Stop your worrying,” his voice was soft and crooning, “I can still sense that you are worried. Do not be. You shall enjoy this.”

“No, I - please - I-” Alex’s voice was frenzied and quiet, and he pushed very lightly at his owner’s shoulders in an attempt to stop him without angering him. The blond merely plucked the man’s hands from where they gripped him.

“Stop this,” his tone was slightly less playful and slightly more irritated. “I do not wish to hear anymore complaints. It is bothersome.”

“But-”

“No,” he rose to press his lips upon Alex’s once more. “No, you will not fight this any longer.” His hands roamed downward once again, to the last tie of the dark-haired man’s robe. The pet swallowed thickly, using his greatest willpower to bite back the plea that sat sharply in his throat.

The King made quick work of the knot, easily undoing it in a matter of seconds. He slipped his fingertips beneath the hem of the fabric, ready to pull the garment open and expose his pet. The blond slid backwards to sit on the taller man’s thighs so his own body would not be in the way.

Alex’s heart was pounding furiously. The only sound he could hear was the rushing of his own blood in his ears. No, no, no, he pleaded internally, eyes tightly closed, brows scrunched. I don’t want to do this, I can’t do this, I need to make him stop-

The Raiser’s fingers ghosted teasingly over his arousal, gently stroking him through his robe. The muscles in Alex’s abdomen contracted impulsively, his gut clenching at the waves of pleasure the touches shot up his spin. He couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes and regard the smaller man’s face - it must have looked terribly smug, or eerily predatory, or perhaps frightfully hungry-

The King finally made to pull the dark-haired man’s robe open. Alex could feel the fabric sliding across his flesh, slowly exposing him. In a sudden, extreme bust of panic, he reacted without thought - untangling his fingers from the bed sheets, his hands shot downward, clutching the two sides of his opening robe and pulling them back across himself. One hand held the garment tightly closed while the other rushed down to cover his privates. Eyes wide and locked on his captor, he begged, his voice high pitched and flustered.

“No! No, please…! I can’t - I can’t - I really - oh god, please! Please don’t make me do this, please…!” He closed his eyes once more, allowing his head to fall back onto the mattress. “Don’t… oh god… I know I can’t fight you, but please… don’t… don’t make me…” His words drifted off, fear rising up in his gut. Shit, shit, I didn’t think…!

The King sat atop his prey, silent. He could feel the taller man trembling beneath him, and he could sense the fearful thoughts radiating from his mind. His toy truly was terrified.

The blond’s lips pressed into a firm line. “That was bold of you, pet,” he said, voice annoyed and not at all provocative. The sudden panic had broken his momentum.

Alex closed his eyes, turning his head away. “I’m sorry,” he barely whispered. The man looked as though he expected to be struck.

It was deafeningly silent for several long moments. The Raiser did not move from his position atop his toy, hazel eyes distant with contemplation. This pathetic creature, he thought crossly, is of no use to me in this state. As he stared down at the shivering man, whose shoulders were scrunched with anxiety and whose features were wrinkled with distress, he felt his arousal begin to flag. This mousy thing is not the human I observed for so long. The blond’s brows furrowed, frustrated. How bothersome!

At last, the King sighed in defeat. He slid himself off his pet and stood, arranging his robes to make himself look presentable once again. His features were lined with aggravation. At the loss of warmth and weight, the dark-haired man opened his eyes and stared at his captor, surprised. He still appeared strongly apprehensive, but relief clearly began to leak onto his flushed face. It… it worked? He thought, astonished.

The taller man lost some of his initial joy as the King turned his gaze upon him. The blond’s eyes were smoldering with irritation. Alex swallowed heavily, afraid he was about to be punished in some awful way.

Instead, though, the Raiser merely spoke, tone low and filled with elegantly restrained anger. “I have changed my mind. I do not wish to have you now.” He turned sharply and made for the door. “You shall stay here. Clean yourself and make yourself presentable for when you see me next. I will not tolerate a unkempt pet.” Laying his hand on the brass knob, he glanced back at the taller man, eyes narrowed with warning. “Do not displease me.”

With that he left, quickly closing the door behind him.

Alex remained on the bed for a long while, a bit stunned by the blond’s sudden departure. He stared at the ceiling, shakily allowing several emotions to rush through his mind at once - relief, surprise, apprehension, dread, wonder, elation, and many others. But most of all, he simply felt exhausted. He closed his eyes, gave a drawn out exhalation, and roughly rubbed his hands over his face. Relax, he told himself, firmly, you got him to go away. You’re safe for now. That’s what counts. Take it one moment at a time.

At last he rose into a sitting position, and carefully began to retie his robe.
~~

The Raiser allowed soothing static to crackle across his skin.

He sat hunched on the platform atop his home, sullen. He was displeased. The blond had not expected his new pet to be so opposed to his desires. Of course he had expected a fair amount of hesitation, no doubt accompanied by the begging and pleading that was part of such fair, but he had not foreseen such avid resistance and frenzied fright. He had been quite positive that after a brief display of power, the man would submit willingly. If not, then the King had been sure he was capable of supplying enough sexual persuasion to do the trick. However, neither had worked.

The blond had briefly considered punishing his pet more severely for lashing out like he did, clutching his robe shut like a child, but had eventually decided against it. He did not want to leave marks on his lovely new toy’s beautiful flesh. He didn’t want the plaything ruined.

Closing his eyes, he allowed the vicious, ice-chilled wind to rip over him, thrashing his hair and garments all about. He sighed at the wave of relaxation it inspired within him, but did not feel the stress leave his muscles. Even up in his imminent storm, the aggravating thoughts persisted.

What has gone wrong? He thought, frustrated. This is not the angry, fight-filled creature I desired. I sensed no thoughts of anger or rebellion. He yielded far too easily. He has disappointed me so terribly. Even when he had mentioned his spying on the man’s past lovemaking, something the King had been sure would rile his pet into at least contained anger, the taller had only experienced a brief flare of aggravation which had dissipated quickly.

The blond had neither been able to inspire sexual willingness or subdued rebellion within his pet. He’d so been looking forward to the thrill of having the man while he was in a heated, resentful frenzy. It had failed so miserably.

He opened his eyes once more to gaze about the angry grey sky. What shall I do, my lovely beast? He asked the imminent storm as though he was speaking playfully to his favorite hound. In response, the clouds only surged and rumbled deeply, begging to be released. The Raiser sighed despondently. He was loath to keep himself from unshackling his storm, but did not trust that in his current state he would be able to contain his desires, and feared he would be too prone to staying up in it for too long.

What can be done? He searched his mind, seeking a solution. What can be done to remedy this? His brows were furrowed in concentration.

At last, he came to a conclusion. It wasn’t one he was particularly fond of, but certainly the best he could muster. No other solution that crossed his mind would work better. It seemed all the rest would only leave his pet in a worse state than he was now.

Standing, he smiled out to his storm clouds, bidding them farewell. With one last deep, soothing breath of the icy electric air, he turned and made his way down the tenuous stairway, back into his home.
~~

The library in the Raiser’s living chambers was not particularly large. Unlike the library that served the entire palace and resided outside his personal quarters, which stood more than several stories tall, this one was only a mere two stories. The room was round and lined entirely with bookshelves, all packed with the fading bindings of old texts that had gone unread for centuries, or longer. Halfway to the ceiling a wide ledge ran along the wall, serving as a second floor. The room was dim, lit only by three large wrought-iron chandeliers which hung from the ceiling, covered with old, ever-burning candles. Their flames never went out, they never shrunk, and it seemed that their dripping wax never hit the floor.

He stood at the base of a large window which traversed the entire height of the second level, from the wide ledge to the ceiling. He placed his hands on the railing of the ledge, griping it and summoning the closest wind servant.

The spirit appeared before him in a matter of moments, threatening the flames of the candles as it blew in. It configured itself before him.

“My King?” it questioned, bowing. The blond regarded its translucent, smoky visage.

“I require you to take a message,” he announced. The spirit rose as it awaited instruction. “Go to the Sage, and inform her that the Storm King desires her counsel. Tell her it is urgent and that I wish to see her as soon as possible.”

The servant inclined its head respectfully, speaking in its slow, barely-tangible voice. “As you wish, my King. Is there anything else you require?”

“No. Go quickly.”

Bowing one last time, the spirit was suddenly gone. The room filled with a monstrous, swirling wind that threatened to rip the books from the shelves, but in the next moment it was gone, throwing open the large widow and rushing out into the storm-hazed clouds. The library was oddly silent after that.

The Raiser did not move from his place. He stood beside the window, waiting. Only a short while passed before the frenzied wind returned, blowing in with it the chill of the air outside, and the small spirit once again stood before its King. The blond turned his gaze upon his servant, expectant.

“She was not at home,” it replied in its drawn-out rasp, “She sits with the Red Emperor, and advises him. She sends word that she will come to you when the Emperor no longer requires her services.”

“Blast,” the small man spoke under his breath, annoyed. What a bother! “Fire Keeper is troublesome, as always. Alright. You have done well.” He dismissed the servant with a flippant gesture of his hand.

The wind spirit bowed once more, and dissipated.

Then I suppose I have no option but to wait, he thought, irritated. He descended the steps to the lower level of the library, dropping himself into one of the plush chairs that resided there. He sent request for a glass of wine, and patiently awaited its arrival. Her advice had better be worth the delay.
~~

Alex lazed in the bathtub.

The lavatory in the Storm King’s bedchamber was unsurprisingly luxurious. The room was large, with the floor, walls and ceiling all made of a peach-hued marble, polished to the point of reflection. For such a sizeable room, most of the space present within it was unutilized. The bathtub resided in the very center of the area, sunk into the floor and not terribly huge. The oval-shaped basin seemed only large enough to fit three persons, which had stunned Alex slightly, as the rest of the blond’s dwelling implied that he would have something more akin to a fanciful pool.

Against the far wall stood an unreasonably large mirror, framed in polished wood and decorated unsparingly with yet more of the shimmering gold leaf that was speckled throughout the rest of the palace. In the back corner of the room there sat a white, modern-day toilet, (which had shocked the man even more than the small size of the bathtub,) that had no kind of curtain or stall to protect its user from view. Alex thought the contemporary contraption looked very out of place in the more classically styled surroundings.

The only other object present within the lavatory was a small wash basin. Made of heavy, black stone, it was propped onto a wide pedestal and stood in the center of the wall which had the two large doorways carved from it. Another mirror hung on the wall above it. The rest of the room was made of empty space, which caused the dark-haired man to feel small and awkward in the open area, surrounded by such vast lengths of marble.

After the small King had abruptly left him, Alex had spent a long while sitting on the bed and recollecting his thoughts. At first, he’d been only thankful for the blond’s departure, and had dwelt on little more than the relief of being safe and left alone. However, as time had passed and he slowly began to regain his composure, the dark-haired man had grown angry with himself.

He’d so easily given in. Rolling his arm and feeling the sharp pain in his shoulder joint, he knew his surrender had been for good reason. But still, Alex scolded himself, you could have at least tried to fight him off. Of course you would have probably ended up with more than several cuts and bruises - and possibly a broken bone or two - but at least then you’d be able to say that you tried. His eyes had fallen to the floor, forlornly. He’d felt robbed of his dignity.

Aside from his wounded masculinity, Alex had been irritated with himself for another reason; the fact that his body had reacted at all to the Raiser’s actions infuriated him. No, he had not been aroused, nor had the dark-haired man enjoyed what had happened in his nether regions - it had almost been as though his body had gone rogue. He hadn’t liked the sensation of loosing control over his own reactions. It had felt odd, mechanical, and dangerous.

Stuck in a place and situation he had no command over, the thought of loosing the one thing he still had the power to control frightened Alex far worse than the rape had.

At last, after pondering the matter for a very long while, he had decided he was too tired to worry over the problem any longer. Sighing, Alex rose from the mattress. The King had already been gone for a length of time, and the dark-haired man began to fear that the blond might return before he had a chance to bathe. Not that I’m bathing because he wants me too, he thought defiantly, I just fucking want to get clean after that… ordeal. Stretching carefully, he hesitantly made his way over to one of the great doorways that lead into the bathroom.

He had spent several minutes observing the space before actually beginning his task. There had not been many things to study, so his exploration had not taken long. Though, he had been worried upon his noticing the lack of a privacy covering for the toilet - he was a bit uncomfortable with the idea.

It had taken the man another several minutes to understand the workings of the bathtub. Rather than a faucet, a jaggedly sculpted piece of clay stood upright at the side of the ground-level basin. It was fired and glazed to a reflective shine, hollow in the center, and was not in any particular shape. Its sharp, abrupt plains vaguely reminded the dark-haired man of an arched bolt of lightening. Despite its jaggedness, Alex actually thought it was rather beautiful, sculpturally speaking.

After he had decided that he enjoyed the aesthetic appeal of the clay faucet, it had taken him another moment to realize he had absolutely no idea how to turn it on. In order to bathe, he would need water.

He’d fiddled about the sculpture, searching for knobs or buttons or anything of the like. At last, along the inner edge of the tub itself, he’d discovered two small wooden levers. Turning one to the side, the faucet had begun to spout a steady stream of water. Sticking his fingers beneath it, he found it to be ice cold. Turning the other leaver, the stream grew steamy with warmth. Placing his hand beneath the flow once again, he sighed in relief as the calming heat ran over his skin.

He’d glanced nervously at the entrance to the bedchamber before removing the robe. Quickly, he lowered himself into the water, sinking in until all but his neck and above was submerged. Sighing delightedly, he’d allowed himself to lean back and relax.

And so Alex had found himself lazing in the little King’s bath.

The soft warmth of the water was heaven against his skin, and he was delighted to feel some of the aching in his shoulder decrease as the heat slowly permeated his muscles. Removing his reading glasses, he placed them onto the floor at the edge of the tub.

As he set them down, he noticed a bar of soap and rag that - he was almost positive - had not previously been there. Blinking perplexedly at the items, he tripped over his own thoughts. What - where - how did - am I seeing this right? The bar was brand new and the rag neatly folded, as though they had been set there specifically for the purpose of his bath. Glancing warily about the room, a slightly uneasy feeling fluttered around in his gut.

Assuring himself that he was indeed alone, Alex carefully took up the items. He dunked the rag, wetting it, then soaped it and began to clean himself.

He didn’t rush through his bath. Taking his time, the dark-haired man allowed himself to enjoy the steamy water and the calming sensation of getting clean. As he slowly washed himself, Alex’s mind began to wonder, and eventually returned to the issue of his earlier ordeal.

His thoughts churned as he mentally replayed the scenario. Dragging the soapy rag over his arm, he swallowed heavily as he was reminded of the fright he’d experienced at his own lack of control. As the man recalled the sensations of his captor’s soft, insistent lips and the stiff, warm pressure of the arousal pressed against his abdomen, he felt an unexpected shiver run down his spine. It was closely chased by a wave of aggravation. Why the hell did I react like that? he questioned, annoyed, Why the hell is my body still reacting to it? There has to be a reason.

Alex was already aware of a possible cause for his body’s disobedience: the Raiser had indeed done several things that were very reminiscent of Danny’s style of lovemaking. I guess he wasn’t lying when he said he was spying on us, he thought, a brief flare of fury blazing through him. The little rat. Danny had always been one to kiss anywhere he could manage to get his lips to, had not been shy about using his tongue, and had loved to keep things slow and amorous. The little King had been much the same. Though perhaps a little more nippy, the dark-haired man thought, absentmindedly bringing his hand to his neck, recalling the sensation of the blond’s teeth rasping over his flesh.

However, there had to be more than just that to justify Alex’s unwanted physical reaction to the Raiser’s ministrations. There had to be more reasons, more causes… anything at all. He continued to wash his upper body as his brows furrowed in thought.

What else is there? he thought, deep in concentration. Why else did that happen to me? Somewhere in the back of his mind, Alex realized he was returning to his old ways, falling back onto his years of analytical advice to search for an answer to his problem.

As he rinsed the rag and re-soaped it, beginning to wash his lower half, a thought suddenly occurred to him. In a moment of revelation, he realized that the Raiser was not only alike do Danny in his style of lovemaking, but in appearance as well. Though the dark-haired man’s ex-lover did not have the youthful, teenaged appearance that the King sported, (he had indeed actually looked like an adult,) both were lacking in stature, slim, and finely featured. Not to mention both are manipulative as hell, he thought with bitterness, and seem to get some kind of twisted enjoyment out of controlling me. He scrubbed the rag against his flesh with vehemence, trying his best to ignore the fact that he’d always seemed to be attracted to people who had a penchant for dictating his life. It was unintentional, but nevertheless a personal trait he’d always tried to deny as being true, despite the evidence.

Well, there you go, Alex told himself cynically, rinsing the rag as he finished washing. Three good reasons as to why I subconsciously enjoyed being fucking raped. Fucking Danny. The man felt as though he was answering a question one of his readers had sent in, and the thought only caused him to feel more bitter.

Lounging in the cooling water for only a short while longer, Alex slowly tried to calm himself. He felt slightly worked up after analyzing his own feelings as he had. At last, after having deemed himself calm once more, he moved to drain the tub. In another sudden moment of epiphany, the dark-haired man silently cursed himself for not searching for the drain before filling the basin with water, which was now sudsy with soap and hard to see through. He deftly ran his hands along the smooth marble bottom of the tub, seeking the bath stop. He found it quickly.

Stepping out of the bath as it drained, he noticed a large, white, neatly folded towel sitting on the floor beside his robe. Okay, he thought, I know that wasn’t there before. Glancing about the lavatory once more, he double checked that he was, indeed, alone. He found no evidence of any other person. Brows drawn together, he searched for an answer to the mystery. Well, he thought, suddenly recalling the King’s earlier words, the brat did say that he could move stuff wherever he wanted, and that he would always know what I was doing. The dark-haired man suddenly felt spied upon. Can… he see me…? The thought was enough to inspire a uneasy fluttering in his gut, so he stooped quickly to take up the towel, hurriedly drying himself and slipping back into his robe.

He continued to ruffle the towel through his chocolate hair, drying it, as he stepped up to the basin which sat against the wall connected to the bedchamber. He stared at his own reflection in the mirror that hung above it, slipping his glasses back onto his nose out of force of habit. Gazing at his face, Alex thought he looked rather tousled with his damp hair pointing out in all directions. He looked down to the washbasin, half hoping a hair comb would magically appear as the other items had, but found it just as empty as it had been before. Glancing back up and sighing, he carefully began to work his hands through his dark brown strands, doing his best to remove any tangles he came across.

It was as he was doing so - smoothing his hair and removing the knots - that another thought struck him, unprompted. Another reason he hadn’t thought of earlier. It popped into his mind without warning, and he spoke it to himself before he realized what he was saying.

Also, you haven’t had sex in probably a good two months or so. He paused in his task, shocked by his own thought. It was true - he and Danny had broken it off just over two weeks earlier, but they’d stopped having sex long before that. In fact, things had gone bad far before they’d stopped being intimate. Alex had thought, for a long time, that the sex was the only thing holding their relationship together. When it had ended, he had known the relationship wasn’t far behind.

After a moment of thought, Alex conceded to his own point. Alright, so that’s four reasons, he told himself, somewhat happy to have sufficient excuses for his rogue body.

Deciding his hair was satisfactorily knot-free, he left the bathroom, heading back out into the bedchamber. He sighed, feeling much better than he had before. His time alone had given him time to think, to analyze, and to evaluate. It left him feeling less frightened and more sure of himself. The key is not to be afraid, he told himself, sternly, and to stay calm. Don’t let the brat get to you. Don’t be scared of him. And take whatever small victory you can get, too. It’ll help. He nodded, approving of his own advice.

Looking about the room, the dark-haired man decided he didn’t want to stay. Heading quickly for the door, he wrapped his hand around the knob. When he pulled, he was dismayed to find it wouldn’t budge. Trying again, he was left with the same result.

The little bastard had locked him in.

A sudden wave of worry rushed over him, but, recalling what he had just told himself, he quickly turned the anxiety into annoyance. He refused to give himself up to the blond brat without a fight.

Alright, kid, he told himself, sitting carefully on one corner of the large bed, folding his arms stubbornly over his chest. You scared me the first time, but I’ll be damned if I let that happen again.

Silently he waited for the inevitable return of his captor, simply because there was nothing else he could do.
~~

The small King sipped slowly on his second glass of rosé, not having moved from his place in the library. He sat in the same chair, waiting patiently for the arrival of the Sage.

In his boredom, he’d decided to monitor the actions of his pet. He’d provided him with the objects necessary for bathing, so that the man would be fresh for his return. All the while, he’d wished he could have seen the man cleaning himself. The thought had given him a lovely, erotic little jolt.

Heaving a long, drawn-out sigh, the little King shifted. Curling his legs onto the chair, he gently rested his wine glass on his knee and allowed himself to stare off into space once more. His pet was no longer doing anything interesting, and so his only source of entertainment had left him.

I do wish the Mist would hurry along. Did I not say the matter was urgent? He took another small sip of his drink, and waited a while longer.

It wasn’t until his mind began to drift to other matters that he suddenly felt the Sage’s presence. Glancing up and over his shoulder to the large window above, he could see her - against the dull, filtered light coming in through the thick glass, a fine vapor could be seen seeping in through the closed seams of the windowpane. The hazy mist sunk lower, through the bars of the railing running along the second-level ledge, and finally settled in a large mass on the bottom floor of the library. The Raiser smiled.

The vapor changed then, rising and configuring itself into the idea of a human figure. It slowly started to become more solid. Its edges became less wispy, and its form grew less translucent. At last, the King’s desired guest stood before him. The Sage’s pale, keen face held a hint of annoyance in its features.

“How bothersome for your servant to interrupt me while I counsel Fire Keeper. The beast is impatient and childish at best.” Her tone was less than amused. She began to make her way over to the chair that had suddenly appeared alongside the Raiser’s own.

“And time consuming, as it were,” the blond replied, sharply, “Tell me, Informant, what was it that had the Emperor devour so much of your precious time?”

The Mist sat in her plush chair, sighing. “Do not make any attempt to scorn me, Raiser, you have no power over my actions. And you well know my conferences are not matters that are open for outside discussion. Now,” she turned her narrow, grey eyes upon her host, “would I be mistaken to hope that you have any more of those lovely kreteks?” It was now the Raiser’s turn to sigh, but he nevertheless opened his hand and offered it to the Sage. Upon his palm a clove cigarette had magically appeared, its blackish-brown color stark against his pale golden skin. She took the cigarette from him, removing a small pack of matches from somewhere within her robes.

“You smoke far too much,” he said as she lit the kretek, only half serious.

“Only in your presence, Raiser,” she spoke with the cigarette balanced between her lips. “You are the only one who has cloves. I enjoy no other kind.” She puffed happily at the miniature cigar. “The last vestige of my Earthly days. Now, on what urgent matter do you need advising?” Her grey eyes settled onto her host once more.

The Raiser turned his own eyes away, fixing them mulishly on the ground before him. “It is… my pet,” he said, at last. “I have acquired it.”

“That quickly?” the Informant replied. “You certainly wasted no time in your acquisition.”

“I was eager.”

“I was already aware of that. So then,” she took another small drag, “I can only assume something unusual has happened? That something has not occurred as you thought it would? Otherwise I would not be here.”

“You are correct in this.”

“Then, tell me.”

The Raiser sighed, a hint of frustration present within the exhalation. “He… has not responded in the manor I thought he would.”

“And that manor would be?”

“Willing,” he replied, taking another sip of his rosé, “silently rebellious, but obedient.”

“He is not obedient?”

The blond shook his head. “No, no, it is that he is far too obedient. And unwilling.”

“How so?” The Mist brought the kretek to her lips once more.

“I anticipated that he would obey me. In fact, had he not, I would have taken measures to ensure that he would.” The small King twirled his wineglass between his fingers. “But, what I’d hoped for - what I’d counted on - was for him to feel… angry. I wanted him to respond to my actions with bitter obedience. It would have been thrilling.”

“And he did not?” his guest inquired.

“No,” he shook his head.

“What was it that he did instead?”

“He folded,” the King replied, “like a child. He obeyed without question. He was not resentful, but frightened. And he was not willing in the least. He begged for me to stop, even as he did what I wanted. It was pathetic.”

“And now you fear that he will always be this way with you? That he is not the lively creature you had thought he was?” Smoke exited though her mouth and nostrils as she spoke. It lazily floated upwards, dissipating into the air.

The Raiser only nodded his reply.

The Sage exhaled slowly, leaning further back into her plush seat. She turned her eyes away from her host and fixed them onto some distant point, deep in thought. “Well,” she spoke, her cigarette resting near her lips, “did you frighten him in any way? Intimidate him at all?”

“He attempted to attack me. I subdued him.”

“Did you hurt him?”

“Only briefly,” he answered flippantly, “it was necessary.” The Informant’s eyes rolled in their sockets.

“Well, you wonder why he fears you?” she said, slight exasperation present in her voice. “You are as crass as ever, Storm King. Did you not think that threatening the creature would jar his nerves? Of course he was frightened. He was afraid you would harm him again if he protested. You chased away any willingness he might have had.”

The Raiser stared at his guest, clearly displeased by her words. “You insult me, Informant.”

“That is only because you are perplexed by obvious puzzles.”

“Do you have advice for my situation or not?” The King sneered, scowling. The Mist sighed.

“You wish your pet to be obedient,” she spoke in a voice that was authoritative and certain, “yet you also wish for his individuality to remain intact. You wish for his mind to remain his own, for him to be lively and vigorous, but not to deny you your pleasures. You want him to be rebellious and resentful, but frenzied and eager. You want for him to have character. Is this correct, Storm King?”

The blond huffed slightly, turning his gaze away, chin tiled upward. “Yes,” he replied, shortly.

“I remember what you told me of this creature,” the Sage continued, “You said that he was solitary, opinionated, and defiant. That he was intelligent and analytical. Guarded. Hesitant. All of these things.”

“Yes, yes,” her host confirmed. “What is it that you are trying to say?”

“This is my advice,” she answered, and took a quick puff of her clove, “due to his nature, it is my guess that he does not respond well to sudden impulse - that he would most likely buckle in the face of an unexpected threat.”

“So, then? What do I do? Wait until he acclimates?” the King’s voice displayed his clear disapproval toward the idea.

“No,” the Mist replied, “seduce him.”

“Pardon?”

“Seduce him,” she repeated, “slowly. Do not intimidate him. Allow your pet to come to you. All you have to do is plant the seed within his mind - your pet is the sort of creature that will go mad trying to discern his own feelings and desires. He will gravitate towards you.”

“This will take a long while, then?” the blond spoke, sounding displeased at the idea of waiting. The Sage sighed. Impatient, as always, she thought.

“Well, that is hard to say,” her kretek was pressed between her lips. “It could take a long while, I suppose. But, from what I know of him, your pet strikes me as the kind of person who may easily be convinced of receiving pleasure. It does not seem as though he was able to obtain much of it back on the other side. I believe he silently craves it.”

The Raiser mulled over the suggestion, not sure if he was fond of the idea. His brow furrowed in thought. A slow seduction? “I am not sure,” he confessed at last, “it is as though you are advising me to be at his mercy. As though you wish me to convince him of my desires.”

The Sage smiled somewhat teasingly. “In a way, that is exactly what I wish. You seek for him to obey you willingly, without fright? Then you must allow him the space and freedom to think, and to analyze. That is how he will respond best. You will not be able to beat him into eager submission.” She took a long drag of her cigarette. “And, Furthermore,” she added, “you may enjoy it as much as he will. Probably more so.”

The King rolled the idea around his head a bit longer. Slowly, he began to grow more fond of it. Yes, he thought, a small smile of his own spreading across his features, I could tease him into desire. Cause him to crave me. He took another small sip of his rosé. And, besides, it would be amusing to watch his indecision.

“I see you are beginning to warm to the idea,” the Mist spoke, dry amusement present in her voice.

“Yes, well,” he replied slyly, “I am slowly becoming more convinced of your advice. You have brought some very important information to my attention.”

“Wonderful,” the King’s guest responded, finishing the last of her kretek. She snuffed out the remaining stub on a porcelain ashtray that had suddenly appeared on the armrest of her chair. In the next moment, both the stub and the ashtray were gone. “You know, I wonder if you might acquaint me with the creature,” she spoke suddenly, “He seems an interesting choice for a pet.” The blond shook his head.

“No,” he said, “not now. I wish to have my pet well trained before I present him to any of the others. That does include you, I’m afraid.” The Sage nodded.

“Yes. I suppose that is not unreasonable.”

There was a brief moment of silence. The Raiser took another slow sip of his wine before asking, tentatively, “Tell me, Informant - have you heard any murmurings among the others? Concerning my new toy?” The Sage shook her head slowly.

“No. Why do you ask? The pet has barely been here long enough to even be detected by the rest.”

“I must admit that I do not fully trust the Marquis,” the Storm King confessed, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit. “He has threatened to spread my secret, you know.” The Mist nodded in understanding.

“Yes, that is not an unfounded worry. That is the risk you took in enlisting the help of Shadow Lifter. He and the Duke are not particularly well known for their good manners.”

“There was no one else to seek help from. The Shadows are the only ones who can carry material across the divide without the aid of the Elder. How else would I have obtained my pet?”

“A fair question, Raiser. Would you like me to speak with Shadow Lifter?” She stared at him, quizzically raising her black eyebrows.

“No, no. I do not believe there is a need. As long as the others do not suspect me, then I shall let the matter go. They will have no need to question him.”

“Yes, alright then. Do you seek my counsel on any other matter?”

“No,” the King replied, turning his hazel eyes to his guest. “For the moment, my questions have been answered. As always, you have been useful, Sage.”

The Mist gave a curt nod. “Very well. Then I must be off. The Lady of Light has called for my assistance.”

The blond smiled wryly. “How busy you are, catering to our needs,” he spoke, teasingly. The Sage rose from her seat, tucking a stray patch of black hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear.

“Indeed, how busy. But, as things are, it is my job to know things and be wise. A skill you and your kind lack,” she shot back, just as teasingly.

“Me and my kind!” her host laughed, “You are ‘my kind’ as well, you know!”

The Mist chuckled along with the blond. “Yes, that may be true, but that does not change the fact that I was only created to contain what the rest of you lack. You best not taunt me!”

The chuckling died down quickly. At last the Sage sighed, fixing her robes. She regarded the blond once more. “Well then, as I said, I must be off.”

The small King nodded. “Yes, of course. Thank you for your counsel.”

“Of course.” The Sage gave a polite nod, acknowledging the Raiser’s thanks. She then left in much the same fashion as she had entered; her edges slowly fading, her form grew less solid until a mere mass of hazy vapor existed in her place. The mist floated upward, back through the railing bars of the ledge, and out through the seams of the closed window. Soon enough, the Storm King found himself sitting alone once more.

After a moment of simply absorbing the silence of the now quiet library, the blond finally nodded his head once in approval. As usual, her advice was well worth my time spent in waiting, he thought to himself. A slow seduction… but how to begin?

Several ideas passed through his head. It mustn’t be something too forward, he told himself, or else I may frighten him again. Something safe… After a short time passed in thought, the perfect option came to him. A wily smile slowly spread across his face. Yes, it is perfect, he praised himself.

The small King brought his wineglass to his lips, throwing his head back and finished the remaining contents of his drink in one swallow. Placing the empty glass onto the small table that had suddenly appeared beside his chair, he stood, leaving it there to be collected by a servant later. Stretching slightly, he sighed happily, and made his way to the door. The smile still pricked mischievously at the ends of his lips.
~~~~

Oi, sorry for any typos or whatever you may have encountered. It seems no matter how many times I revise it, I always find more =_=

So, how was it? Did everyone enjoy? :3 Especially the beginning? I haven’t written smut in a loooooong time, and I’m worried if I’m rusty or not D: I was kind of re-trying my hand with this one. *Is a little worried*

Please, please, review! I desperately crave feedback, I’m afraid to admit ^^;;