Seraphic Deviltry

Notes: This story was written as a response to an "Original Yaoi Contest", to be inspired by one of ten scanned manga images. The image I used can be found here: http://aethereality.net/gallery/download.php?id=5322 The image does not belong to me, but the characters in this fic do, and I'll be highly irritated with anyone who steals them for their own wicked purposes without getting my permission. And a short on on the main characters' names: Both are Latin in origin. "Lucius" means bright, while "Adrian" means dark. Yes, they were named for their complexions.

Warning: Although I said most of it in the summary, I repeat it here. This story contains incest and semi-non-consensual, as well as lots of angst. If this is not your cup of tea, don't read this story. Don't read it and then flame me because you found it offensive. Thank you.


Chapter One: Seed

________________________________________


Lucius

I hear the sound of footsteps, and then the door opens. Whoever it is, I ignore them in favour of the proud bird perched on my hand. It's uneasy now that we're not alone anymore, and I hush tenderly.

"Angel?"

At that voice and that name, I smile slightly, and turn towards the door. My brother. "Yes?" I ask mildly.

"Father sent me to tell you he'd like to see you as soon as possible."

At his first word, the world seems to freeze around me. I turn back to the bird with greatest effort, and lift my seemingly lead-filled hand to stroke it once. It caws in return, and when I move the hand it sits on, it spreads its wings and leaves.

Ah, how I wish I could do the same.

"Angel?" Hesitant.

I sigh. "Yes, I heard." I rise from my soft, cushioned chair and move towards him, gracefully avoiding the sparse furniture.

"I'm sorry you had to..."

I smile towards his voice and raise a hand slightly. "Never mind, Adrian. It doesn't matter." At least he doesn't know. "He's in his study?"

"Yes."

I smile faintly. His study is not so bad. Not usually. "I'll see you later, perhaps."

A short pause. Then, "Of course."

I exit the room and leave him behind as I navigate myself towards our father's study.

I wish he wouldn't call me 'angel'. I'm not an angel, nor will er ber be. And I wish I didn't look like one. He tells me now and then that my waist-long hair looks like angels' wings. Or like moonlight. I wouldn't know. I can't see whether it's true. I've been blind since birth.

People usually say behind my back that although I'm blind, at least I'm beautiful. I can't see the good of that. I hate the way I look. I hate my narrow face and soft lips. I hate my slanted eyes that can deceive people in thinking I'm looking at them. I hate my slender limbs and long fingers.The The problem is that I don't know what would be worse. Would it be better if I and my brother looked as alike as twins should? Would it be better if he had all the beauty as well as the vision? Perhaps it would. For me.

I thank the gods that Mother died when we were ten. That way, she was never unhappy on my account.

I stop before the door to my father's study. I can hear muffled voices from inside. My father's and one... no, two others'. I draw a shuddering breath. Most likely, it will be alright. If not, it'll be even worse. I raise a trembling hand and knock.

"Come in," my father says, and I have to open the door.

Stepping inside, I give him a smile, eyes closed. "You wanted to see me, sir?" It's safer not to call him 'father', in case he doesn't want his guests to know that.

"Yes, Lucius. Two steps forward, please."

I close the door and take two steps towards where I know his desk stands. I can sense the other two people in the room, slightly in front on each side of me. Their breaths are strained, and I know their faces are alight with appreciation. I clasp my hands demurely in front of me; the picture of innocence.

"He's amazing," one of them says.

"Are you sure?" the other one says, and my heart sinks.

"Of course," my father says. "Lucius, these gentlemen will be staying here until tomorrow to finish an important business deal. I have assured them that you will be happy to entertain them tonight."

My smile feels plastered on my face as I bow slightly towards the two strangers. "Of course, gentlemen. I will be honoured to serve you in my best capability."

"Then it's settled." My father, pleased.

"Lucius?" the second man says, and I shift uncomfortably at the sound of a ngernger saying my name.

"Yes, sir?" I ask, showing none of my discomfit.

"You... Your eyes..." It is obvious that he feels as uncomfortable talking about it as I do.

I turn towards his voice and smile, opening my eyes. I hate showing others the windows to my soul, but sometimes it cannot be helped. It was my mother's expression, that. It makes me wonder at times, how much of what one feels is reflected in one's eyes, even if one cannot look out through them. Shrugging those thoughts off, I quickly assure the man, "I'm certain my disability will not make me less proficient," before bowing slightly and closing my eyes again.

"Lucius, do you want to show them the guest room?"

I hate smiling. "Of course, sir."

I turn towards the door, and reach out towards it when one of the strangers coughs pointedly. I freeze, arm halfway raised.

"We hadn't said we were finished here, had we?" the first one says.

I understand with fatal clarity. Even though the second stranger might be uncomfortably new to this, the first one isn't. I will have a hard time pleasing him. I turn back and sink to one knee, turned towards the source of his voice. "I apologize for presuming too much, sir."

A short silence. Then my father's slightly strained voice, "He is yours until tomorrow morning. However, I do want him back in one piece. Lucius, wait outside."

Not knowing whether to be relieved or alarmed or disgusted, I rise, nod and exit the room. I lean towards the wall opposite the door, waiting, trying not to strain for the faint noises of conversation reaching me. I don't know whether my father is apologizing for my misbehaviour or if he's telling the first one off, but either way, I know that if I overheard, the result would be worse for me.

While I wait, I walk the corridors of the manor in my mind, locating the guest room where my father's... special guests always stay. I've reached there and back again when the door opens. I push myself off the wall and smile.

For a short moment, silence reigns in the hall. Then a disgusted snort comes, probably from the first man, while the second one says, "We're done now. Lucius, if you please."

I force my smile to remain, and nod. "Certainly, gentlemen. If you would follow me, please." I gesture slightly down the hall before setting off at a comfortable pace, somtimes brushing the wall with my fingers to make sure I'm on the right course. If they are impressed or amazed by my ability to know every step, they say nothing.

My memory is accurate, and we soon arrive at our destination. I try the door to discover it is locked as usual. I turn towards the two men, whose footsteps have stopped a yard or two behind me. "This is your room," I say, choosing my words carefully. "Unfortunately, since I have no business there alone, I carry no key to it." That ought to be relatively safe, especially with gentleman number two nearby to help me.

"Don't worry. Your master gave us a key."

Bless number two for that. Not only did he save this situation, but he also gave me a clue as to what to call my father.

"We'll be alright now, Lucius," gentleman number two continues. "Lord Alastair told us to send you back straight away while we had supper and... got ready."

A sharp, somehow annoyed intake of breath from the first man, and I know that somehow, he had wanted to keep that information from me for as long as possible. He can cause me some heavy trouble if I aren't more careful than ever. On the other hand, I'm not certain that will help. If he wants to, he'll probably find fault with me anyway.

I bow slightly. "I will be back as soon as my master allows." And with that, I gracefully pass them, listening carefully for any sound of movement my way. When I've put them behind me, I can't help but draw a relieved breath. I wouldn't have been surprised if the first man had tried to trip me up.

While taking myself back to my father's office, I try to put myself in the right state of mind. Although I suppose the first man would enjoy simply taking me, I suspect that the second would be uncomfortable if he for one moment thought that I didn't like it.

That thought causes me to stumble, and I fall to my knees. For a moment I bury my face in my hands, choking on the loathing I feel for my situation. Then I take a deep breath, and force myself to my feet. I stand still for a second or two, concentrating, and then I tentatively walk on. Eventually, I regain my mental balance and calm.

I knock and my father tells me to enter. I close the door behind me, and stand with my hands clasped in the small of my back, respectfully at attention. I wait, listening to the sounds he makes as he signs papers and moves them across his desk. We are alone, or at least I cannot detect anyone else.

"Welcome back, Lucius," my father finally says. "Did you cause them any trouble?"

"No, Father." I refrain from saying that the first man might say differently just to cause me trouble.

"I'm delighted to hear that. You know I will have to punish you if you reflect badly on me."

"Yes, Father."

"Come here. The chairs are moved to the corners."

Reluctantly grateful for that information, I gracefully slide towards his desk and around it. At the snap of his fingers, I kneel down with exquisite elegance. After all, I've had five years of practice — ever since I was twelve.

"Tonight, I want you to make me proud," my father says. "I don't want to hear anything from them less than perfect obedience."

"I understand, Father." It's more honest than promising he won't.

"For every complaint, you will have a number of lashes, depending on how severe the transgression." I swallow, my heart heavy, hoping that gentleman number one doesn't know that. "However," he continues, "I will hear your version of the night in private before I see them, and if I judge their complaint unaccountable, the number will be halved."

"Thank you, Father." My thanks are heartfelt. It means he has foreseen that the first man might falsely accuse me.

His hand goes out to carress my hair, and I lean into the familiar touch. He tilts my head back with a gentle pressure underneath my chin. "Open your eyes," he says, and I do. If my world hadn't been filled with darkness I would have been looking straight at him.

His next words take me by surprise, as they are intended to. "You don't like entertaining them, do you?"

When I've regained my composure, I reply. "No, Father. I'm sorry." The hand in my hair tightens almost imperceptible, and I know the only answer that will appease him. "You know I only want your touch, Father."

When his grip softens, I know the danger is over. He chortles slightly, almost soundlessly. "You are a gift, Lucius." I allow myself a trembling smile. Then he pulls me up, so that I stand on my knees, and press his lips to mine. I open up and lean into the kiss, to assure him that my lie is true.

We kiss for a long time, and against my will I feel myself harden. Then my father breaks contact, and I am left fumbling, as though I had lost all sensations.

"You will have to go soon, Lucius dear," my father says, breathing heavily. "But first I have something for you to take care of."

"Yes, Father," I agree quickly, longing for contact once more. I hardly wait until I hear he's finished unlacing his pants before diving in and taking his cock to the root. I hate myself for this desire. I'm nothing but a wanton whore after my body has been set aflame.

I suckle his cock for a few moments before going up to tease the sensitive string on the underside of the head with my tongue. When I hear his breathing quicken I go down again, opening my throat for him.

Suddenly there's a knock on the door, and I freeze. My father does as well, before saying in a low voice, "Under the desk, now. Don't stop."

Cheeks burning with shame, I scuttle in under his desk, keeping his cock in my mouth. And then I try to disconnect my hearing when he says, "Enter," in a voice that sounds far calmer than I could hope to manage.

I hear the door open, and then my brother's voice. Quickly choking myself on my father's cock so as not to scream in panic, I hear him say, "Father? Is Lucius here... I mean, do you know where he is?"

For a few moments, our father is quiet, and I can with my mind's eye see him smile and point to underneath the desk. I can see Adrian's horror and disgust. To my despair, this does nothing to lessen my desire. Instead the knowledge that he's there, only five strides from discovering me, intensifies the fire in my groin to the point where I'm almost climaxing from that alone.

Then our father speaks. "No, Adrian. He left a while ago, and I'm not sure where he went. Have you checked the library?"

Curse him for managing to be so calm!

"Oh. No, I didn't. I'll try that, then. Sorry I disturbed you, Father."

The door closes, and my father takes a deep breath. "Good boy," he murmurs, stroking my head. "Didn't make a noise."

I pretend I haven't heard, and concentrates on bringing him off, wanting — needing — to hear his praise, hoping that he'll perhaps even granting me pleasure.

It doesn't take long before he comes, and I eagerly swallow every drop, gently cleaning him up. Then I kiss his shrinking cock with reverence before slowly straightening as much as I can.

"That was nice, Lucius. Come out."

I crawl out and raise myself to stand on my knees, swaying slightly, my face raised towards him. I will not speak my need, for if I did, he'd admonish me and deny me my wish.

"Run along now, so you won't be late," my father says, a smile in his voice. A tortured groan escapes me, and he chuckles. "What? You think I would allow you to come?" I try to bit back a whimper of despair. "No, no. That's not for me to grant. Work hard on pleasing my guests, and perhaps they will allow it." He suddenly snatches hold of my hair and pulls me up close. When he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper, and his breath strikes my face with every syllable. "Just to be certain you understand me, you are forbidden to touch yourself in any attempt to bring yourself off unless they expressly say you can. Understood?"

I swallow, trying to focus. "Yes, Father," I manage in a voice somewhere between a whisper and a gasp.

"Good," my father says, pushing me away. I fall to the floor and remain there until forced to rise by the prodding of his foot. "Just remember it, too."

I nod. "I'm sorry, Father," I apologize in a futile hope he'll reconsider.

"It's alright, Lucius. Now go. Get ready for tonight."

I stagger towards the door. Just as I've almost bumped into it, and raise my hand towards the handle, my father's voice stops me.

"I think the green... the silk robes embroidered with vines will be just perfect, Lucius."

"Yes, Father," I reply quietly before slipping out the door.

I stand there for several moments, trying to collect myself, before I resolutely slip my hand underneath my robes — Adrian says they're pale grey-blue, like the ocean in winter — and pinch my cock hard, right under the head. The pain causes me to fall down, but I have at least achieved my goal: my erection has almost vanished entirely, and can hopefully no longer be seen through my clothing.

As soon as I'm able to, I rise, and briskly take myself to my own quarters. It's with relief I slip inside and close the door behind me. However, I allow myself only a few moments of relaxation before I strip and throw my robes towards a couch. Then I proceed into the bathroom.

Although intimate cleaning has become standard morning procedure, I check to make sure I really am clean inside before carefully washing my body and rubbing in a gentle relaxant ointment, which gives me a faint scent of flowers. When I'm finished and dried, I apply some lubricant. I'm not to sure they will use any, the first man being too condescending and the second too ignorant. And then I go out into my bedroom to get dressed.

While still slipping into my robes, a knock is heard on my door. Being in a hurry, I don't think before calling, "Come in!"

The door opens and closes, and I hear hesitant steps. "Lucius? Angel?" my brother calls out.

"In here," I reply, still occupied with my clothes. The footsteps approach me.

"Angel? What are you doing?" my brother asks, perplexed.

"Changing clothes. Father has guests until tomorrow, and he asked me to keep them company, entertain them."

A short silence. "Oh. Do you want me to help?"

A chill travels through me. "No," I quickly assure him. "I'll be alright."

"I meant with getting ready," Adrian hurries to explain, a bit flustered. I'm not certain if he truly meant that or if he just changed the meaning, but I nod acquiescence. "What had you in mind?" he asks, approaching the wardrobe.

"These robes," I say, gesturing to the ones our father had ordered me to wear. "And the matching slippers."

A hesitant silence. "You do know that you look like a courtesan in them, don't you?"

For a moment I'm quiet as well, making myself busy with perfecting the folds of my clothing. Then I shrug, acting casual. "Does it matter? Shouldn't my manner of dress match my beauty?"

Another uncomfortable silence. "Yes, but..." A deep breath. "I'm worried. You can't see the looks some people give you, and..."

I look towards him, frozen to the marrow with the notion that he might discover me. Then I smile broadly. "Don't worry, Adrian. I can take care of myself too, you know." My cheerfulness sounds false in my own ears.

He sighs. "I know, but..." Another sigh. "Never mind. We can talk about it later. I'm sure you're in a hurry."

I nod, and the next few minutes are spent dressing me and braiding my hair. Although my hair might look like angels'
wings, it doesn't taste that good, and it keeps getting in the way all the time, especially when I'm having sex. A little,
well-cn, jn, jewelry, and I'm set to go.

"When can I see you again?" Adrian asks outside my quarters.

"I'm not sure," I lie. "But I wouldn't be surprised if I'm not back until tomorrow." Adrian makes a non-committal sound of assent, and I smile my good-bye.

________________________________________


Adrian

I watch him leave, his steps certain after so many years within this building. I hope he won't get into trouble because of those clothes. I know he says he can protect himself, but I'm worried all the same. I know what effect he has on people. Women, they worry about him. They see a lost little boy. Or so many have said when I could hear it. Men... They want to... take him. Oh, not all, but I've caught some comments. Were he a woman, they say, they wouldn't mind marrying him. Some don't even care about marriage, but would only want him into bed.

Is it my fault, then, if I worry about my brother? My angel. So pure and innocent. I doubt he would understand what happened until it was too late.

I look away from the corridor he vanished down, and slowly go back to his chambers, intent on waiting him out. I need to explain to him why he must be so careful. I need to be close to at least the residues of his presence. Gods, I love my brother. I have to keep him safe from all who would abuse him. No matter who it is. No matter who.

________________________________________


Lucius

My night is awful, as I had expected. Gentleman number two is rather nice, and I don't think I would mind making love to him, but number one... He's worse than my father on a bad day, and I have a hard time pleasing his every whim. As if that wasn't enough, he had moved the furniture in the room before I came, and hadn't it been for gentleman number two I would never have known until too late. It's with relief I hear them get ready for bed. Unfortunately, they want me to sleep between them, because even if they both might enjoy my body, that doesn't mean they want to share a bed just the two of them. I lie sleepless for a long while after they've both begun to snore, before I fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

The next morning I'm woken early by someone starting to fuck me. At first, I'm too sore to even attempt to feign pleasure, but then he manages — whether by accident or purpose I don't know — to hit that special spot, causing my body to burst into flames. Unable to help my response, I arch back, moaning. Since I didn't get release the day before, it barely takes a moment before I'm rock hard.

"Yes," gentleman number one whispers in my ear with a humoured voice, "that's my boy."

When a hand touches my cock, I almost scream. I strain to speed whoever it is — the second man, judging by the angle — up, but he moves his hand just slightly too slow for me to come. I can hear the incoherent pleas coming from my mouth, but I'm too far gone to feel shame.

Finally the pleasure overwhelms me, and I come hard. A heartbeat later, the second man comes as well. I want nothing but rest, or perhaps to run away and hide, but my training forbids me. Only one of them has had his pleasure, and unless I please the second, I will not fulfill my duties satisfacory. So I gently pull myself from the first man, and sit up. Then I smile and trail my fingers across the second man's body.

As a hand grips my wrist, my mouth opens to an O of perplexion. But the second gentleman soothes me, by saying he has no need for pleasure. It was pleasurable enough to see me, he says, and I can't help but frown in consternation. I can hear the gentle laughter in his voice as he tells me to run along and freshen myself up before seeing Lord Alastair.

I crawl out of bed, sit on the edge for a moment or two recalling where I put my clothes the day before, and then pick
them up and make my way to the adjoining bathroom. I only take a minute or two to wash up before I get dressed and move towards the door. There I stop, turn towards the two men who, by the sounds of it, still are in bed, and bow. "It was a pleasure to spend the night with you," I say before turning and exiting. No one need know that it was only one of them I meant.

I hurry to my father's study and knock, but he isn't there yet. Leaning against the door for a moment, I take a deep breath before continuing to his quarters. Well there, I hesitate for a short while with my hand raised, and then I knock.

"Come in," my father calls, and I enter. "You're up early. I'm still in bed."

"I apologize, Father," I reply, navigating towards his four-poster bed. I stand there respectfully until a hand pulls me
down. For a moment, I lie there, content with the warmth of my father's body and the covers, but then he speaks.

"How did you behave?"

"As well as I could, Father," I begin, before thinking back and recounting the past night. He snorts slightly, amused, at my naming them "gentleman number one" and "gentleman number two", but doesn't tell me what else to call them. He's not too pleased with number one's prank of moving the furniture, even if I make slight of it, but he makes no comments at all while I talk. Then he sighs and strokes my forehead gently.

"Lucius, Lucius," he says. "Do you swear that all this is true?"

"Yes, Father," I reply. "I would never lie to you." At least not when ordered to tell the truth.

"No, it's true that it's very seldom I've caught you with a lie." He kisses me tenderly. "Now run off to your room. I won't force you to listen to their account. I will send for you afterwards."

Relieved, I kiss him back and thank him before leaving.

When I return to my rooms, I hear Adrian — he is the only one who spends time in my quarters when I'm not there — breathing slowly on the couch. Straining for silence, I sneak past him and into the bathroom to clean myself of all signs of fornication. My senses might be stronger than the average man's, but not even he could avoid smelling the musk reeking off me.

I don't even take my clothes off before getting in the water, since I know how much they smell. But no more have I loosened my hair before I hear the soft footsteps of my brother as he pads into the bathroom.

"Back so soon?" he says with humour, even if it's plain that he just woke up.

I grunt and nod in reply, eager to get rid of evidence of last night's activities.

"Mind if I join you?"

For a moment I stand still, face turned towards him in surprise. Then I smile and shake my head. "No, I don't mind."

The soft rustle of clothes is heard, and then splashing sounds as he walks down into the water. "Don't you know you're supposed to get undressed before taking a bath, Angel?" He chuckles.

"They were dirty," I reply casually. I have to watch my tongue near Adrian. He's already aware of the possibility. If he should find out, I wouldn't know what to do. "But if you say so..." I slip out of my robes and let them float away. We're quiet for a while. Then I ask, "Could you wash my hair, Adrian?" He doesn't reply, but I hear him move, and soon I feel his hands in my hair.

He's so gentle, as always, and it's a real pleasure to feel his touch. As I relax into his hands, my thoughts wander back to our father's office the day before. That is a mistake. I feel myself grow hard, and try to hide it by casually placing my hands in the way. But hope as I may, it seems he discovers my state of mind. I can hear him take a deep, somehow despairing, breath, and then how he quickly steps back and splashes away towards the edge of the pool and climbs out.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles as he picks up his clothes. "I have to go." And before I can gather myself to reply, he's run out and vanished.

Tears gather in my eyes then, and slowly trickle down my cheeks. I've probably lost my brother now, since I wasn't able to control myself. No longer can I take joy in washing myself, but finish my business and then drag myself out to get dressed.

All my clothes are sorted after embellishments or material. I choose some clothing I know is pale red, whatever colour that is, and slip into them. And then I sit down and wait for my father's summons.

________________________________________


Adrian

I wake up to the soft splashing, and as soon as the sleep-haze leaves me, I realize that my brother has returned. I get up and quietly slip into the bathroom. There I find him in the water, still dressed. "Back so soon?" I ask him, smiling, and then have to stifle a yawn. He nods and grunts non-comittally. He probably was up too late and is still tired. And that's probably why he didn't bother to get undressed. "Mind if I join you?" I continue, and then I could have kicked myself. That's a way too stupid question to ask if I don't want problems.

For a moment he simply looks my way, surprised, and I hope he'll say I can't, but then he shakes his head and tells me he doesn't mind. And so I have no choice but to take my clothes off and get into the water. Trying to make light of it, I ask him, "Don't you know you're supposed to get undressed befoakinaking a bath, Angel?" and chuckle.

"They were dirty," he replies, as if it had been his full intention to take his clothes into the water. "But if you say
so..."

And then he proves what an angel he is, by innocently slipping his waterlogged robe off his shoulders, untying his belt and letting it float away. I bite my lip and close my eyes before the vision. He might be an angel, but I most assuredly am a devil. These carnal feelings, this lust, isn't appropriate to feel for one's brother.

"Could you wash my hair, Adrian?" he suddenly asks, and I'm forced to open my eyes. I don't trust my voice, however, and I reply by making my way towards him, using action instead of words.

His hair really is like angels' wings, as it floats just below the surface. I can't stop my hands from touching it, following its billowing waves with gentle caresses. He smiles and leans back into my hands, and I curse my traitorous body. Would that I could remain here forever, worshipping him with the innocent love of children, as I once did. But as it is, I dare not. I don't want him to discover my shame. And so I have to leave. I hurry out of the bath and pick up my clothes. "I'm sorry," I mumble. "I have to go." And then I quickly exit his quarters and leave for my own.

Oh, my brother, my angel. Why is it that you are my brother? If you weren't, I wouldn't have to keep my secret so carefully. This litany repeats itself in my head all the way to my rooms, where I throw myself to my bed and lie still for a long time. I do not cry. I haven't cried since my mother died. But there are times when I wish to the gods that I could. My only comfort is that he at least doesn't know of my desire.

________________________________________


Lucius

My father summons me a while later, and it's with a clear head and a calm heart I go to him, knowing that whatever punishment I receive I will accept as atonement for driving my brother away.

I knock, and am accepted into my father's study. I cannot tell what he intends by his voice, but I do hear that his guests are still in the room. I bow deeply, and then stand still with my head bowed respectfully, but I say nothing.

"You know why you are here, Lucius," my father states.

I don't move, but reply, "Yes, sir."

"It appears that my guests have some complaints," he continues.

It was nothing more than I had expected. "I fully take the blame." I still don't raise my head.

"Without hearing what their complaint is?" I can hear the surprised smile in his voice.

Admitted, that was not a question I had expected. I have to tread carefully and smoothly. "Yes, sir," I begin. "If they have reason for complaint, I have not performed adequately. Who is then to blame other than me?" I wait for what seems to me as an eternity. I can almost imagine gentleman number one's smirk and number two's shock.

"You do me honour by taking such responsibility for your actions, Lucius," my father says neutrally, but I guess that his tone of voice is mostly due to the two gentlemen. "Your mistakes have earned you six markings."

I can't help but holding my breath in a bout of sudden panic. Six markings with the cane. It is the most I have ever had in one day, since my father always is careful not to allow me to get injured. But then I accept it and relax. I deserve it. Perhaps not for any assumed mistakes I've made last night, but most assuredly for damaging my relation to my brother. I wouldn't tell my father that, though. "Yes, sir," I reply.

"I've chosen the cane since it will leave a reminder for you", my father tells both me and his guests. "Come here, Lucius. There is nothing straight forward."

Self-conscious, I step forward to my father's desk. Unsure whether I'm supposed to come around to his side I stay there.

"Strip."

Even as I take a deep breath to steady myself my hands move, as if by their own volition, to my sash, untying it and dropping it at arm's length from me. I open my robe and let it slide to my wrists before dropping it on top of the sash. The thin, semi-translucent robe I wear underneath goes the same way. And then I stand naked before them, hoping beyond hope that no one will enter.

I hear my father rise and circle the desk, and I turn to face him. Familiar with the procedure, I kneel, and then kiss the tip of the cane that he lowers to my lips, while one hand travels up its length as I'm looking at it closely in my own way.

"Position yourself, Lucius."

I rise, and lean over the desk, relaxing since I know it will be worse if I'm tense. And then I wait for what seems like an eternity before I hear the swishing sound as the cane cuts the air.

It burns. Oh gods, it burns. I choke back a scream, hearing my father's guests shift in their chairs; one uneasily and the other expectantly.

Another line of fire falls as soon as I've managed to compose myself and relax once more. And then another. The only thing stopping me from screaming is that I know it could be heard from outside. The only thing stopping me from begging him to stop is the fact that I know my pleas would go unheard. I reach out and clench the edge of the desk tightly, transferring my pain and control to that grip.

The last three strokes come in rapid succession; my father knows me too well. And then I'm left there, gasping for air, as he returns to his seat. I hear one man rise behind me, and tighten my grip on the edge.

"Beautiful," gentleman number one says, and trail one finger down my back towards my ass. A shudder runs through me as he touches each welt in turn. Finally he, seemingly reluctantly, eases his hand off me and sits down in his chair again.

"Stand up, Lucius," my father commands, and I have no choice but to obey. "Get dressed."

I don't trust my voice enough to reply, and instead kneel down to pick up my clothes. I dress quickly, yet as gracefully as I can manage, shivering against my will as the silk slithers across the six lines. When I'm done, I stand still, facing my father.

"Now apologize to my guests."

I turn towards the two men, kneel down and bow my head. "I apologize for any discomfort I have caused you through my actions, and I hope you will not blame my master."

"It's all right," gentleman number two hurries to say, but number one lingers with his reply. Finally, he grudgingly forgives me as well.

"Thank you, gentlemen," I say, bowing almost to the floor, before rising and turning back to my father.

"You may leave, Lucius. I will see you later."

"Yes, sir," I reply, bow slightly, and exit the room. It hurts to move with the same grace as always, but it has to be done to keep up my appearances. It wouldn't do if anyone realized, who shouldn't know. I return to my rooms, and rest.