The Phoenix Key
The Phoenix Key
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"The
Key"
By: Delilah
Pagan_nyght@yahoo.com
Chapter
1
**
The phoenix lights its own pyre. Its own
actions are responsible for its death. From its ashes springs a new bird. It
may look the same on the outside, but I believe that the creature within is a
completely new animal. After all, how could something that has damned itself
ever be the same again?
-Trey
**
“Wake up!”
The man groaned as something hard and sharp
collided with his side, breaking bones still tender and mending from the day
before.
“I said wake up!” His abuser snarled giving him
another violent nudge.
Opening gold eyes the young man stared up silently
at his master. The man hunched over him, hairy, foul smelling, and dangerous beyond
anything Trey had ever encountered before.
He’d once run into a bear while traveling. That
was so long ago that he could barely remember it anymore. Vislav
reminded him a lot of that bear, though. The tsar lacked the fangs and claws
but at least the animal had had the decency to only want him dead. This “man”
before him wouldn’t even grant him that.
A rough hand slapped him hard, snapping his head
back painfully.
“Its your own fault you know,” the tsar rumbled as
he unlocked the young man’s legs and flipped him over onto his stomach, forcing
Trey onto his knees to keep from breaking his still chained wrists, “if you had
left like a good boy I would never have thought twice about you,” a large hand
clamped onto his waist, crushing the skin into the bone, “but you didn’t did
you? I knew you were a no good thief the moment you stepped into my hall. I was
too smart to be dazzled by your charm but I was willing to let you leave with
your life but then you did the one thing I hate most of all. Tell me boy, tell
me what I hate most of all.”
The man gritted his teeth as the tsar leaned over
him. He wasn’t a small man but the tsar’s form was huge and he was heavy.
Something he didn’t want to think about was pressing itself greedily between
his legs and he shifted, unconsciously trying to stop what he knew was about to
happen. There was a snarl and a meaty hand crashed into the back of his head,
sending his forehead down sharply to scrape against the cut stone of the wall.
“Tell me!” The tsar snapped, losing patience.
The young man’s vision swam and he closed his
eyes. “People touching your property.” He breathed.
Groaning his approval the tsar shoved into him and
despite his foreknowledge the young man cried out in pain as the foreign object
forged a tunnel through muscles not properly relaxed despite years of similar
treatment. He heard the tsar licking his lips and shuddered.
“And what are you now, boy?” Vislav
demanded.
Trapped under the heaving sweating frame that was
working to satisfy its own desires of lust and dominance the young man was
barely able to whisper out the required reply.
“Your property . . . master”
**
Once upon a time there lived a tsar who had a
most wondrous orchard. Inside this orchard grew trees that bore a magical
fruit. The tsar jealously guarded his treasure, determined that none but he
should have them, though he never ate the fruit himself. One day he came to his
orchard to find all the fruit gone. Angry he sent out his eldest son to catch
the thief. The next day all the trees had been picked bare and the tsar found
his son sleeping. That night he sent out his second son, ordering him to catch
the thief but again the next day all the fruit was gone and his son was fast
asleep. Finally he sent out his third son who cleverly managed to stay awake.
As reward for his efforts the youngest son saw a flicker of red, like fire,
dancing among the trees, magical fruit disappearing as it passed. He jumped
from his hiding place, determined to catch the thief and managed to lay a hand upon
him but the thief got away, leaving the son with only a tale of a thief with
the coloring of fire who could scale the high walls like a bird and who
obviously held a magical power.
The tsar promised his kingdom to the one who
brought the man to him and so his sons set out. During his journey the youngest
son met a grey wolf that helped him find the thief who had been taken prisoner
by the tsar of Dolmat. The tsar\'s son tried to steal
the thief but was caught. The tsar promised him the thief if the son would get
him a magical horse from the neighboring city. The son had further adventures
but eventually returned with the horse. He was give the thief but before he
could return the thief to his father his older brothers attacked him and left
him for dead, returning with the thief to collect the reward that should
rightfully have been his. And so was born the tale of the Firebird who in
southern lands was called the
-Old Russian Fairytale
**
in disgust. The stones were dark from years of snow, rain and a constant
onslaught of moss. Even the lights of warm fires illuminating the tall thin
windows didn’t manage to soften its appearance. It sat huddled before a dark
forest, as though wishing it could sink within its depths to hide forever. It
was a far cry from the sprawling gardens and open palace of the lands to the
east. He’d spent the first nineteen years of his life within those walls,
desperate to find a way, any way, to be free of them. And now, five years
later, here he was again, riding back within their grasp, daring them to take
him again.
He’d left as Ivan Tsaravich,
third son of the Tsar Vislav. At nineteen he’d been
thin, tall, graceful, and most damning of all, feminine. His features had been
delicate, his movements elegant. His father had taken it as a personal affront
to his own masculinity and had ordered his older brothers to make him a man.
His second brother usually ignored him, only beating him when Ivan failed to
get out of his way fast enough. His eldest brother, however, had made it his
personal mission to make every moment of Ivan’s life a living hell. He’d been
beaten so many times it had been a wonder that his face and body hadn’t been
permanently disfigured.
Worse had been the private lessons his father had
forced upon him when no one was around to see. Ivan shuddered at those
memories. In the dark of the night his father used to come to him, angry and
drunk and determined to show him what happened to men who looked like girls. By
twenty he’d been well versed in those lessons.
Shaking his head firmly, Ivan shoved those
thoughts from his mind. It would be different now. As far as the Tsar was
concerned his black sheep of a son was dead, body rotting for five years in
some unmarked grave for failing to bring the firebird back to him.
Ivan smiled darkly as he rode past the gawking
villagers. His long black hair danced along his back and he made no move to
hide his features. Time hadn’t taken away the feminine features but rather had
sharpened them. His skin was as pale as any well sheltered princess’s
and his features were still delicate.
Among the bulky, hairy men of the north, Ivan knew
exactly what he lookike.ike. He also knew the danger of what he was doing. He’d
seen it first hand five years ago when a pale man with shocking red hair had
ridden up to the palace of Tsar Vislav and offered to
pay for his shelter with what the Tsar considered female pursuits. Only girls
sang and played instruments. Only girls told stories.
Vislav
for their lodging, though Ivan doubted that any girl would have survived what
they had done him. Trey shouldn’t have survived either, but he had. And he’d
dared to seek revenge upon his attackers. So was born the tale of the Firebird.
Ivan checked the smile that came to his face. His
father had claimed the Firebird as his own, promising his kingdom to the son
who brought the elusive man to him. Trey had stolen apples from the Tsar’s magic
tree, earning himself a death sentence until Ivan himself had seen the red
haired man slipping away and realized that though there were scars from the
beating he had received at the Tsaravichs’ hands less
then a week earlier they were healed, as though by magic.
If there was one thing Vislav
desired most in the world it was the possession of all things magical and by
eating the apples, Trey had absorbed the magic and changed his death sentence
into something much worse. Pursued across the Tsar’s lands the Firebird had
been captured in Dolmat where the youth had been
caged and forced into the role of catamite for Tsar Dedumil’s
twisted pleasure. Ivan had watched the Tsar enjoy his new toy late into the
night as he tried to figure out a way to retrieve him and bring him back to his
father.
Ivan wasn’t sure when he had fallen in love with
red haired boy with the golden eyes but, while he fulfilled the tsar of
having a body forced to do his bidding. Trey’s cries of pain being forced into
the realm of pleasure obsessed Ivan’s waking moments and drove him with the
promise of power.
When Dedumil had turned
over Trey to him Ivan had tasted that power every night, learning to control
the larger and far more masculine body and force it to enjoy what he was doing.
All his life people had hated him, disgusted with his features and mannerisms.
He enjoyed the feel of being in a woman but Trey had been infinitely more satisfying
than any woman. No woman gave Ivan such a feeling of power, of control. Having
Trey gave Ivan back those things that had been stolen from him by an
overbearing father and cruel brothers.
When his brothers had tried to kill him and taken
Trey from him he had sworn he would have revenge and he would reclaim the
Firebird. Trey belonged to him. Trey would be his again and he would make sure
it was permanent this time.
Five years Ivan had waited for this moment. For
the moment when he’d prove to the world that he was truly a man, despite his
appearances. Pulling his horse to a halt before the large doorway and the
guards who stood gaping at him, he allowed a smile to tug at his curved lips.
“Tell your master that the sorcerer
audience with the greatest of all the Tsars of the Rus.”
As the men tumbled over each other to do his
bidding Ivan felt a spark of satisfaction feed his obsession. Soon, he promised
himself, soon he would have all the power he deserved and his father would
realize what a foolish mistake he had made.
Not that he would live to regret it, of course.
**
Swords are for the weak and fearful who wish to
hide their faces behind steel and allow their enemies to come straight at them.
No, those who are strong never let their enemies know who they are. They smile
with the face of a friend as they convince their enemies to stab each other in
the back in the ensuing confusion.
-Ivan Tsaravich
**
“Ilyia!
Ivan looked up from his dinner and rose, bowing
low. When Tsar Vislav said ‘show us your power’ he
really meant ‘come here so I can show off my power’. Everyone here knew who
with a smirk as he raised his hands and produced a spark of lightning that
danced across the high ceiling to the gasps of Vislav’s
court, they thought they knew.
He’d been moderately fearful that his father or
brothers would recognize him but it appeared that they had already forgotten
that there ever was a third son. Even Elena, who had been yet another prize he
had planned to retrieve from his thieving brothers didn’t seem to even remember
him. Not that he cared. After seeing how the woman simpered over his brother
“Very impressive!
of our strength!” Vislav thundered out and Ivan bowed
again.
Next to the hulking tsar Dimitriy
sneered, showing off an impressive set of yellowed and broken teeth. Ivan had
watched himself around the man, knowing that his features made him a target but
Vislav had marked him as his property, socially not
physically to Ivan’s immense relief, and Dmitriy
appeared to be smart enough not to try his father’s claim.
Returning to his seat, Ivan had to pull his mass
of hair back to drape behind the chair. It fell behind him in a river of
shadow, black as a raven’s wing. On either side of him the women cooed but he
ignored them. It was a difficult game to play with Vislav’s
women but Ivan had had three weeks to learn it. He had to show the proper
attention to them, flirting just enough to make
everyone think he enjoyed the company of women, but not enough to make it look
like he was actually using them. The men of the palace didn’t like the thought
of someone who looked like him dirtying their women.
Gingerly picking up his fork he concentrated on
the meat on his plate. It was bloodier than he was used to but he suffered
through it. Real men ate meat raw. At least he was allowed to have wine instead
of the ale the rest of the men drank. Vislav was
lenient with his ways, allowing him to hide behind the façade of being exotic.
He held magic within his blood; he was expected to act a little different from
normal people. It was a thin line, though, between being exotic and acceptable
and being feminine and weak.
Ivan didn’t think Vislav
would beat him for it but he also knew the Tsar wouldn’t let him go. Just
because the large man hadn’t marked him as his property didn’t mean Ivan was
free to just walk away when he felt like it.
It didn’t matter though; Ivan had no plans to
leave.
Dmitriy
his manner of seducing was blatant grabbing and obviously suggestive words. The
girl, unsurprisingly, didn’t seem to think too much of this form of courtship
and was trying to get away, much to the older man’s irritation. Seeing an
opportunity, Ilyia jumped for it.
It had been three weeks since he’d arrived and he still
hadn’t found out what had happened to his second obsession. He’d already found
magical orbs, stuffed snow cats, gargoyles that could move, caged forest
sprites, and dozens of other things that Vislav
wanted his opinion on but not once had he been shown the creature he had been
most hoping to see.
“My lord,” He called out. Vislav
glared at him and Ivan forced himself to look contrite. “Please excuse my
presumptuousness but there has been something that has been that has been
troubling my mind for days now.”
The Tsar grunted and waved a grease-coated hand at
him, signaling for him to go on.
Leaning back in his chair Ivan played with the
stem of his glass. “I’ve heard tell of a great journey by your sons but no one
seems to be able to give me a proper telling of it that does any justice.”
He saw a dark glint that told him the Tsar was
suddenly interested in what he had to say. “What journey?” He demanded.
Ivan hid his smile behind the rim of the glass.
“Why the journey that brought you what everyone seems to think of as your
greatest treasure.”
Vislav
He lowered the glass back to the table and clasped
his hands in his lap. “The Firebird, of course.”
It was a gamble, he knew, but Ivan couldn’t
proceed until he had located Trey. True, he was determined to take possession
of all of his father’s lands but he wasn’t willing to do it without knowing
Trey would survive to enjoy his reign with him.
Silence fell throughout the hall and Ivan didn’t
miss that Dmitriy and Vasiliy
both stared up at their father. He forced himself to look only mildly
interested at dark eyes studied him for a moment.
Finally Vislav shrugged
as though it were no great thing. “The Firebird thought it could take from my
orchards. I proved that not even nature could triumph over me.”
He pointedly turned and proceeded to ignore Ivan,
who allowed himself to frown ever so slightly. The
noise in the hall picked up to the nearly deafening pitch that singled a return
to normalcy and Ivan suffered through the rest of the dinner hour. When it was
proper to do so he bade his tablemates a good night and stood. Slipping from
the room he was unprepared for the strong hand that latched onto his arm with
enough pressure to bruise him. Memories flared up, making him fight for a
moment before a rough shake reminded him where he was and he forced himself to
calm down. Looking up at his captor he forced back the gasp that rose in his
throat.
“What do you know of the Firebird?”
n stn style=\'color:black\'>Ivan made himself look unthreatening. “Very
little, my lord, only what I have heard in stories about your halls . . .”
The tsar snarled and gave him another bone rattle
shake. “You lie little sorcerer. Nobody here speaks of the Firebird.”
lord. I . . . I heard of it from the one who taught me my trade. He once had
the Firebird in his possession though I was not there at the time. When I
returned he told me of him and . . .”
“And you came to steal it from me?”
disappeared from his view wasn’t going to scratch at an itch.
“No!” Ivan exclaimed, “I merely wished to see him.
I have never heard my former master speak so highly of anything. The firebird
must be an incredible creature for him to go on about him so.”
Black eyes studied him seriously. Ivan could
almost see the man’s brain trying to decide if he was telling the truth. r
ar
a moment Ivan found himself released with a sharp shove that sent him tumbling
back a few steps.
“The Tsar of Dolmat
really speaks of the Firebird?”
Ivan thanked the gods for his father’s vanity.
him out of his grasp,” he decided to add a bit more to sto story, “your sons
must be quite impressive. I have never known anyone to get the better of him.”
Vislav
Ivan bowed, trying to look repentant. “I am truly
sorry for my deception, my lord. I should have just told you but . . . I feared
that if you knew who my former master was I would never get the chance to see
the Firebird.”
The Tsar scowled at him. “You may not yet. The
Firebird is for my amusement only,” he paused and then caught Ivan by the
shoulder, “though I have been known to be generous. Please me
and you may see him yet. You are right, you know. He is my finest treasure.”
Ivan bowed again, watching from under a spill of
black hair as Vislav guffawed and stormed away,
rattling the halls with his passing. Straightening he caught the dark eyes of
hall. Favoring the heated glare with a sly smile Ivan felt an immense
satisfaction when it was his eldest brother who backed down and turned away
with a guttural curse.
Soon my lovely Firebird
He turned, letting thoughts of skin as white as his own giving under his
slender hands. Of shoulders twice as broad as his being pressed down as deep
cries lay witness to his power.
Soon.
**
> You know what? Forget it. You never listen
to what I tell you anyway. I’ll just do it myself.
-The Grey Wolf to a twenty-one year old Ivan
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Ivan bit back a curse and dragged the heavy head
of his horse to the side to keep the beast of burden from straying off the
path. There were snickers from behind him and he pointedly ignored them. He
wasn’t sure which of his two brothers had chosen to give him a nearly
unmanageable horse but it didn’t matter. He was stuck with the muddy brown mare
and he was determined not to give anyone anything to laugh about.
He was glad for his natural affinity with animals.
If not for that he would have been tossed in the mud or still trying to
convince the nag to leave the relative warmth of the stable. As it was he was
spending more time trying to stay on course then he was enjoying the hunt.
A large black horse stomped by, perilously close
to the mare who shrieked and nipped at the offending
rider. Ivan had the pleasure of seeing Dmitriy hg
tg
to jump to save his leg from horse teeth. The Tsar’s eldest son growled and
punched the nag in the nose. Ivan cursed under his breath as the nag screamed
and shook her head to clear it as the black trotted up to the Tsar’s own black.
Father and son have matching horses, how cute,
help of Vasiliy’s impatient gelding.
A breeze fluttered past and all the horses in the
line paused, sniffing carefully. Ivan tensed; fearing the sensitive creatures
would ruin his plan, but when the breeze died away and the trees stilled the
horses moved on.
“Why did you come here, sorcerer?”
Ivan shrugged, keeping his eyes forward. “Your
Tsar is a man who appreciates magic, it seemed like a
good place to be.”
Green eyes gifted to the two of them from their
mother told him that he wasn’t believed. His elder brother’s next words solidified
Ivan’s belief. “It would seem Dolmat would be a
better place for you.”
A slight smile played over Ivan’s lips. “True but
things were getting . . . strained between my former master and
He saw the sparkle that said Vasiliy
thought he had cornered his victim. “What did you do?” He asked.
“I did nothing.”
His brother’s eyes darkened. “Then why were things
strained?”
Ivan had to drag his horse back onto the path
before he could answer. “Sorcerer’s are like a family. After awhile the child
and the parent can no longer live in the same house because their personalities
are no longer compatible. When this happens it is best for the fledgling to fly
the nest, as it were, before things get out of control.”
“So you ‘flew the nest’ to get away from your
master?”
Emerald eyes slid to the side to gauge his
brother’s surprising reaction. Perhaps Vasiliy was
ready to fly the nest as well. How . . . interesting. Ivan filed that bit of
information away for later.
“Yes. I was tired of studying in dusty libraries
and taking orders from a man who didn’t even know I existed most of the time. I
thought it was time to spread my wings a bit.”
A ghost of a smile flashed across
moment and Ivan looked up just in time to see the Tsar go down under a pelt of
grey fur. Banishing Vasiliy from his mind, Ivan urged
the mare forward towards the snarling wolf and his howling father. He was
grateful to see that Dmitriy’s stallion wasn’t nearly
asl trl trained as it looked as the massive horse reared to get away from the
predator.
Reaching out a hand Ivan called the power he would
need to complete his ruse and as he whispered the words needed to shape the
power he silently prayed the grey wolf wouldn’t forget himself amidst the feel
of a struggling victim.
Lights exploded and momentarily blinded him as the
power snapped into the shape he desired and the wolf leapt back with a howl of
pain that Ivan couldn’t distinguish as fake or true. He hoped he hadn’t harmed
his friend as he leapt down off the nag and took cautious steps towards the
massive creature.
Shaking its large head, the wolf opened grey eyes
and blinked at him. Holding out his hand Ivan made up words as he approached
it. The wolf cocked his head and began to back up. Lips pulled back to reveal
frightful teeth and Ivan heard shrieks from behind him as the ladies of court
caught up to them. Whispering a true word of magic, Ivan flung a harmless bolt
at the wolf. With a smile and a faked scream of pain the grey wolf leapt away
and he heard large paws crashing through the underbrush of the forest.
Pretending to straighten his tunic Ivan turned
with a small smile and met the dark glare of his father.
**
A man makes his own destiny. He allows no one
else to do it for him, and those who would interfere in that must no be
tolerated.
-Tsar Vislav
**
Saving the Tsar’s life didn’t quite have the
effect Ivan had been hoping for. Rather than being properly grateful for having
his life spared from a vicious wolf, Vislav was
furious. Ivan snarled and beat his fist into the wall of the small room he had
been locked in. It was foolish but how was he to know that the Tsar would throw
such an ungodly fit at having been saved by a sorcerer?
No, Ivan corrected himself, he was having the fit
at being saved by someone who looked like they should be stuffing themselves
into corsets and batting eyelashes at the guards.
He sighed and dropped down into an overstuffed
chair. It was his own fault really. If he had thought
it through he would have been able to foresee this outcome but he’d let his
desires overrun his brains. His hand came down to rub his growing erection as
his dream came back to plague him.
Gods he needed Trey under him again!
Closing his eyes he slid his hips to the edge of
the chair and loosened the string of his pants. Slipping his hand inside his
fingers encountered the heating flesh and he groaned. Gently he danced his
fingers across the head, imagining pale pink lips placing kisses there. When he
looked down he could almost see the golden eyes, such an exotic captivating
color, staring up at him, begging him to stop, show some mercy, or, eventually,
to give him the release the twenty year old needed so very much.
The first time he had had Trey the boy had been
too exhausted to do much other than lay there under him. The second time,
however, oh how he had begged! Ivan closed his eyes, tightening his hand around
his shaft as he let the memory wash over him.
“Please! Please let me go!”
Ivan smiled as he slipped the golden key into
the lock. “You want to be set free? But don’t you see that its
impossible, my little bird? Don’t you know what they’re calling you? They’re
calling you the firebird.”
Golden eyes blinked at him as a pale pink lip
trembled between white teeth. “The firebird?”
Ivan nodded. “Yes. All this wonderful red
hair,” he ran his fingers through it, licking his lips, “like flames.
protect his orchard.”
The boy before him blushed slightly, pressing
back against the bars of the cage. “
“Hm?”
Trey drew in a shuddering breath. “Where I come
from its called a phoenix.”
He laughed, closing the door firmly behind him
and passing the key to the waiting wolf to keep his prey from escaping.
“Firebird, phoenix, it matters not. You’ve been caught and you’ll spend the
rest of your days singing lovely tunes in golden cages.”
Eyes that matched the color of the bars widened
and the boy tried desperately to get away from him. “No! Please let me go! I
didn’t mean anything! I’m just a traveler. I just want to see the world, that’s
all.”
Ivan reached out and caught a handful of the
red hair, pulling the boy roughly against him. He was slimmer then the other
boy but he was taller. Leaning down he licked at the red scar along his left
cheek. His father’s mark showing the world that the boy belonged to the Tsar.
“I want you to sing for me.” He whispered,
reaching down to tug at the boy’s pants.
The boy cried out and tried to push away from
him.
Ivan lad ind in delight as he struck the boy,
dazing Trey long enough for him to push the other boy to the floor of the cage.
“Yes! Sing, my little bird. Sing for me.” He crowed, jerking the pants off and
wrapped them tightly around wrists that were still growing but already thicker
than his would ever be.
The boy fought him but another slap made him
fall limp long enough for Ivan to get his hands tied to the bars of the cage.
Sitting back on his heels Ivan growled at the body under him.
“Do you want to fuck me, Trey? Do you want to
treat me like the girl I resemble?”
Gold eyes looked at him in a highly
unsatisfactory way and he snarled, biting down hard on a pale nipple. Trey
screamed and bucked wildly underneath him. Ivan rode it out, rubbing his
covered groin over the uncovered one beneath him. When Trey finally collapsed
down it was to fight shivers of pleasure and another bout of begging to be
free.
Ivan listened, lapping at the blood that welled
under his bite. He kept lapping long after the wound had healed thanks to the
boy’s inner magic. He rolled his hips sensually, enjoying the feel of the heat
that was growing beneath him despite the boy’s pleas to be left alone.
Ivan lifted himself up slightly, pressing his
lips to chapped ones, forcing his tongue deep into the wet mouth, glad that
someone else had taken the task of beating the urge to bite out of the boy. He
thrust his tongue in and out, fucking the mouth beneath him. When a groan
slipped from the boy’s throat he pulled back, staring down at half lidded
golden eyes.
“I’m going to fuck you, Trey,” he whispered,
nipping at the lips, “I’m going to show you just what kind of man I am, and
you’re going to be a good slave and let me do it, aren’t you?”
“Please don’t . . .” The younger boy whispered.
Ivan backhanded him hard. “You’ll talk when I
tell you to talk!” He snarled.
The boy whimpered.
“Beg me to fuck you.”
Trey squeezed his eyes closed. “Please . . .
let me go.”
A growl escaped him. “That’s not what I want to
hear, love.” Reaching back he ran long nails over the boy’s erection.
A scream of pain erupted from the boy trapped
under him. Ivan cooed, licking at the neglected nipple
until Trey settled down. “I don’t want to hurt you, Trey.”
“Bullshit.”
He chuckled. “I don’t like causing pain for
pain’s sake.”
“Then let me go.”
Ivan shook his head, watching his black strands
mix with fiery red ones. “No. I’ll never let you go Trey. I don’t want to hurt
you but I will to get what I want from you.”
There was a choked sob. “What do you want?”
“You, Trey.
and have you crawl back for more.” He ran his hands
over the barrel of Trey’s chest, fingering ever rib. “I want to hear you sing
for me late into the night. I wonder if the fairy tales will remember that the
song of the phoenix is really the sound of its begs?”
“Why me?”
with something that sent shivers through his aggressor.
“Because you’ve led me on a
merry chase. Because
you challenged me. Because I love you.” Ivan
shrugged.
“You . .ove ove me? How can you love me? We’ve
never even met properly!”
He chuckled, laying his head on the boy’s chest
and reaching down to skip fingers lightly over the thick shaft. “I loved you
the moment I saw you slipping through the trees of my father’s orchard. I loved
you the moment you gave me an excuse to get out of that palace. And when I saw
that Tsar fucking you in the garden, heard the sounds you made, saw the way the
torchlight flickered off your tears I knew that I had to have you all to
myself.”
“How is this . . . love?” Trey demanded.
Ivan shrugged a second time. He smiled as the
lungs under his ear began to pant as he teased and prodded the red shaft to
life. Slipping down he ran his tongue over the weeping head, thrilling at the
salty liquid that covered his tongue. He dipped his head, thrusting the cock
down his throat and back up. The boy under him keened and began to fight at his
bonds.
“You’re mine, Trey. Now,” he slapped the boy’s
balls sharply, receiving a shocked cry and lurch of hips, “beg me to take you.”
The boy remained stubbornly silent and Ivan
shrugged. Holding the boy still he forced his tongue deep into the slit. Trey
shrieked and twisted. “What . . . what are you doing?”
Ivan smirked. “Something that
I will require of you quite often. I’d pay attention if I weou,
ou,
love.”
He returned to his ministrations as the boy
keened and struggled. Ivan pulled away long enough to wet his index finger and
then used it to ring around the boy’s entrance. At that touch Trey
“Shhh.”
he had the boy squirming again he slipped his finger inside, pushing and
thrusting. After a moment he added a second. It wasn’t long before his slave
was thrusting up at him. With each thrust Ivan pulled the quivering cock from
his mouth to demand, “Beg me!” before taking it in again.
After what seemed like an eternity he heard a
faint whisper.
“Hmm?”
“Please . . .” Trey whispered,
his whole body tense and shaking.
Pulling away completely from the boy’s cock he
thrust his fingers in deep, impaling the boy who threw his head back and
howled.
“Please what?” He demanded.
Trey’s cheeks burned red and his hands gripped
the bars so hard his knuckles were snow white. “Please . . . do it.”
Ivan curled the fingers inside the boy making
him choke in surp and and began lightly slapping at the thick hot flesh that
bounced against Trey’s stomach. “Not good enough slave.”
Gold eyes closed in shame. “Please f . . .
Ivan grinned and removed his fingers. “Look at
me boy!” He ordered as he positioned himself. Trey shook his head and Ivan
sighed in irritation. Gripping erecerection in a tight fist he secured the
boy’s attention. “You will always look at me unless I tell you not to, do you
understand?”
Trey nodded and received another blow for it.
“Tell me!” Ivan ordered.
A red tongue licked at a split lip. “I
understand.”
Ivan’s green eyes glittered. “Call me master.”
Trey stared at him in horror.
A hand came up warningly and Trey cringed.
“Yes, master.”
Ivan laughed in triumph as he shoved himself
hard into the body beneath him. Trey clenched up, his muscles getting a death
grip around Ivan’s cock. Reaching out his free hand he pumped the abused cock
as he tongue fucked his slave. At the duel pleasure Trey relaxed and Ivan
humped against him.
“You see? You do want this. You want me to do
this to you. Gods you’re so good,” he groaned between thrusts, “I’m going to
keep you forever, my little phoenix, my firebird. Forever.”
He swore as he licked the tears that fell from golden eyes.
Ivan bit back a howl as he came, hot fluid flowing
over his hand. He kept his fist tight, milking himself as his cock shivered and
gave up the last of its desire. Standing on shaking legs he cleaned himself up
in the basin by the fire. Throwing the cloth he used to wipe up the evidence of
his actions he pulled up his pants a second before the door to his room was
thrown open.
He whirled and forced himself to straighten and
bow deeply as Vislav stormed in. He prayed the man
wouldn’t notice the scent of sex and his prayers seemed to be answered as the
man glared down at him.
“You’ll be at dinner.” He ordered before whirling
and storming out.
Ivan stared at the door that slammed shut behind
the tsar so hard it made the hinges rattle. Come to dinner? He hadn’t expected
the tsar to forgive him so easily. Shrugging he moved to his closet to find a
proper outfit.
He needed to come up with a new plan. Two nights
ago he had had his old friend the grey wolf pretend to attack the tsar during
his daily ride so that Ivan could “save” him from the crazed animal. Instead of
showing him in praise and offering him to see the Firebird he’d been made a
prisoner in his own room.
Ivan sighed and shook his head. He’d probably
never find out what had caused a change in his father’s mood. As a child he’d
learned that his father was an unreliable man, given to sharp changes of mood.
He just thanked his luck and planned to do better.