"Broken Shards"

[zauberdecke]

"In the dark
I need to taste the blood
Go on, draw another line
We can cross this time."
- Blindfold by Sleeping Wolf

---



[ Essek Thelyss: Shadowhand to the Dynasty.

One who reached further then the Luxon would allow, who would do absolutely anything for knowledge. Oh no, the man did not care for power, not really. He wanted to cast himself into the portal of knowing, he wanted to surrender himself to books and learning without having to deal with the mundanities of socio-politics that all of the Kryn engaged in. It was tedious and it filled him with sickness even as he plastered on an urbane smile for all and sundry to see.

Within the Dynasty, it was customary to take pets of the Empire; they were brought in across the border of Asarius, across the mountains and into the Dynasty. There were Dynasty born pets on the other side, both lost to the ravages of the other's civilization, generally never to be seen again.

Essek had never really had an interest to begin with when it came to pets; at the market he carefully avoided the slave blocks where those not of the Dynasty were paraded around. However, it had come to this-- it had come to his trading of the Beacon, and in return he recieved a Volstrucker to serve him. And yet, for all of that, Essek Thelyss had not thought he would receive a broken Volstrucker.

In fair trade, he and recieved a dossier on the man in question and had perused it with only a small semblance of annoyance while Trent Ikithon had assured him that a man like him could be rebuilt, the honeyed words of a silken snake which Essek recognized.

After all did not a predator recognize another predator? So now he held in his household a man whom had to be guarded carefully, though Essek was not cruel despite how he imagined Dynasty pets were treated, the cage that he had placed this Volstrucker named Bren within, well it was comfortable-- he'd seen pictures of Vergossen so he supposed it must be far better than that place. But he had not precisely interacted with him-- most of his unseen servants were given the walking of him, the care and maintenance of him.

Perhaps because he did not precisely know what to do with him, or what use he had for something broken. Though he arguably did not know what manner of broken the Volstrucker was, but after a week-- he decided perhaps it was time to summon him and see for himself; acertain what sort of work was cut out for him.

If this man was worth putting back together again.

So it was one evening, he had the Empire man summoned to his chambers. ]

Comments

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren wanted it gone too. It was Ikithon's magic, and feeling it against his skin, around his throat quite literally threatening to choke him, it had been wearing on him, a weight that was far heavier than the physical presence of the collar.

The touch of Essek's magic was entirely different, a shiver to it, like frost and a cool wind, but it was comforting somehow. Distracting. But not quite distracting as how he could feel each puff of the drow's breath.

His own breath catches again, but he still struggles to hold still. He can feel the flutter of the magic, a loosening of the hold on him. Gods he wanted to be rid of this thing so very much. Even if Essek immediately bound him with another silencing collar, that would be infinitely better.]

[zauberdecke]

[ There were three separate wards on it, and he was working on the second one.

Such an ever-present mien of concentration to the drow as he worked, playing the collar much like he was working on playing Ikithon. Tapping against it like keys while he pulled strings and manipulated the very core of the aetherical bindings. Another subtle click and that was undone; one final one to go---

This was when he started to bite his own lower lip, reaching for the sweet spot of it over and over and pinging it, he scooted even closer; the anticipation held fast between them. This one was longer, this was 10 minutes, he had to be very careful though, he had to do this without Trent knowing that he was doing it-- this required delicacy and skill, but he was filled with far more stealth than the average wizard.

Likely more than Trent Ikithon bothered to hone for himself.

Another slight ping, he exhaled breath and then the collar fell apart around Bren's neck, enough so that Essek could quickly slip it out from around it-- then he closed it once again, quickly, before there was any time for such a breach to register-- sealing it back up with magic that poured into the cracks like glue, poured it into the cracks to form it in a subliminal space that was not around Bren's throat. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Minutes felt a bit like eternities -- of both utter thrilling anticipation and utter torture of having Essek close. And then even closer. His fingers twitched behind his back, but he held his position. Gods it was a trial of his will and self control, but so far he was winning. Just barely.

That second lock slipping free and he took a breath to calm himself. Close, but oh the last bit of all of it was still holding on. He watched Essek still, saw the way that concentration had the drow biting at his lower lip -- a cute peek of fang? Was that what he saw?

Focus, Bren.

His eyes shot wide again as the collar let go and he felt the strangling grip of Ikithon's magic fall away entirely. He drew a breath and had to bite his own lip to keep from speaking and ruining the subterfuge. Silent still, he fixed a look that was overflowing with gratitude on Essek, watching as the other wizard stitched the spell back together seamlessly, simply without him caught in the midst of it.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Quickly, Essek handed the collar to the Unseen Servants, and then he leaned back slightly in the chair. When he spoke, his voice was cool and it was precise, but it was clearly for show. ] You are a dirty slut that has taken too many liberties this night with me, and I grow tired. You may be a good boy but I can see what lingers behind your eyes so you shall have to prove your repentance.

[ A very carefully picked out admonishment. ] For such, you will spend the night in your cage.

[ And Trent Ikithon would feel those words getting further and further away-- as if Bren was being pulled away ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Oh Bren understood that it was part of the pantomime, part of the script. He understood that with every logical fiber of himself. The illogical part of himself though? That part heard dirty slut and had to bite hard at the inside of his mouth not to wind up whimpering. This was a new side of himself he was discovering, and he half feared it was obvious enough Essek would discover it to with the way his eyes widened and his face heated. After all, there certainly was something lingering behind his eyes, and sins at the back of his mind that he ought to be taken to task for.

It was a good charade for Ikithon's benefit though, and Bren kept quiet, watching as the unseen servant took the offending collar away. He'd wait long after it was out of sight to speak.

Hells, he'd wait until Essek bade him speak to utter a word in all likelihood, eyes shifting to look at his master in something rather like quiet awe.]

[zauberdecke]

[ The silence was a fine tenuous thread between them. Essek did not move, he still sat there perched on lap with his fingers against that shoulder. He was considering the neck there, strangely naked-- not even freckles to cover up it's unabashed remission of ownership. Except this man was his-- there was the fall of Bren's words that he could hear, though they were not giving voice-- the other man was being so very good for him.

It was Essek that cut through the silence like a well-honed knife. ]

Please be advised that despite your lack of collar at this moment, you are still mine-- you are just less of Ikithon's. [ A breath, releasing it-- reasserting those fragile bounderies. ] But you may speak freely, I do not know how long you have been robbed of your words.

[ And to show that Essek did care. ]

If you need water for your throat, then please.. by all means.

[ A glass floated up to rest on the end table next to the wing chair, of which Bren was sitting down upon. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Essek did not move from his lap, and Bren could not decide if this was a blessing or a curse. It was probably an equal mix of both, if he were honestly assessing it. His neck did feel strange without the collar around it, though he thrilled with being rid of Ikithon's metaphoric touch. His gaze, still fixed on Essek, softened at the words, and he ducked his head. It had been a long time since he'd spoken, and even then that had been a brief break in a decade of silence and catatonia. He wrapped his fingers around the glass of water to take a sip, to remind himself how to voice words.]

I will never be his again. [His voice was rough from disuse, but still a soft tenor, clipped at the ends with the telltale touch of a Zemnian accent. His own voice sounded strange to his ears after so long without it, but he continued.]

But ja, I am yours.

[Spoken out loud now, a confirmation, a promise of that fealty, that submission, that growing dedication that he could feel swelling in his chest.]

Thank you.

[zauberdecke]

You will never be his again.

[ There was finality there, like the closing of a door on a chapter of Bren's life. There was no need for the past here, not the past as Ikithon had narrated it- He sat back, but only a little as he took in the raspy timbre of Bren's voice, used to little talking. ] I will have to trot the collar out occasionally though it will never be around your neck.

[ His fingertip curled underneath Bren's chin then and he turned it so that he could regard the other man, the way that the voice somehow matched the appearance-- rich and warm, and yet soft. He had expected soft, perhaps it was those eyes all sad and melancholy. ]

I accept your gratitude, you will pay me back by being perfectly obedient to me-- so far I have had no cause for complaint; however, I hope that your newly-found voice will still be tempered until I say that you may use your words.

[ausgebrannt]

[A flicker of a smile over his lips as Essek echoed the words. Gods help him, but he trusted this man. More than just being drawn to him, more than clinging to scraps of kindness when he'd been so starved for it, he trusted Essek Thelyss to mean the words that he said, the promises that he had made. He could abide the collar's presence, and would happily make use of it against Ikithon and his spying attempts, but he was relieved to know he would not be expected to wear it. He would wear Essek's collar quite gladly, would accept even the grip of those graceful, slender fingers around his throat without anymore more than murmured gratitude.

He found himself lifting his chin at that gentle pressure, meeting the drow's gaze with his own.

Bren looked at the other man in undisguised veneration in blue eyes, peering through half-lowered lashes still darkened by the makeup, the shimmer of gold still present on his eyelids. It was a coquettish glance, even if Bren certainly did not intend it to be -- could not have done it if he intended, in all likelihood, awkward anxious disaster that he was on the best of days. But it paired perhaps a bit too well with the soft, almost breathless agreement of,]

Siyo, Veldruk.

['Yes, Master.']

[zauberdecke]

[ He was not immune to the inherent prettiness of his Pet; oh no-- he'd casually wondered what sort of sounds the man would make when.. but ah, perhaps those were confusing thoughts and tangled up with his own experiences in the bedroom (which were, non-arguably, not fond whatsoever), it almost brought to mind his own tolerating grimaces and slightly uncomfortable hissings followed up by annoyed swats and pushes in demand for Adeen to get off of him as soon as possible.

But still, he was beautiful with the makeup clinging to that face, those beautiful blue eyes that were so tender. Nothing like Adeen, and perhaps that is what enticed him, despite himself-- what had given route to such rogue thoughts. ]

Would you like to write in your notebook for the remainder of the evening, Pet? I have correspondence to read and books to peruse; for being such a good boy at the party tonight, I think that you deserve a little relaxation time of your own.

[ There was Essek, heaping rewards on Bren, patiently and indulgently-- a far too kind Master. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren had no expectation at all that his master would find him at all attractive, never mind beautiful. Admittedly, he hadn't caught sight of himself with his currently makeup accented features yet, but how could someone as exquisitely, ethereally, beautiful as the Shadowhand possibly look at a scrawny freckled ginger and see anything worth looking at?

He started to perk up at the prospect of relaxing with his journal, but the praise, the being thought of as a good boy ate at him. There were things that Essek did not know, after all. Things that he by all rights out to know.

Bren couldn't help but drop his gaze, guilt and shame conspiring to redden his cheeks.]

You're too generous. I don't deserve anything so kind. There are things you do not know, things I should tell you. I deserve to be punished, not rewarded.

[Well. He'd broached the subject now, the proverbial floodgates of confession and begging for forgiveness were about to open.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek heard Bren's own words, the way that they enunciated-- the subtle shift of shame behind them and then the downcast eyes that bespoke that the other man had something weighing on him. He had seen the way that Bren had punished himself already, taking it into his own hands. Likewise, he also knew that this man would find some way to punish himself.

As his Master, it was up to Essek to hear out his crimes.

And judge him in accordance.

The weight of Essek was taking off that lap and then he stood there before he pointed to the ground and with a very firm command, he spoke. ] Sit.

[ Once Bren complied with the demand, that was when Essek would resume sitting in the wing chair much like an imperious empress would. ] You would tell me all of them, Pet. I will be the one who will weight the seriousness of these crimes.

[ He would judge them, but likewise he would keep in mind that Bren was clearly the type that desired to be punished, it was like a craving in him that he could recognize-- had recognized the first time Bren had knelt in shame before him. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren immediately missed the proximity, the weight of the drow in his lap. But he did not deserve that either. No. And better it come out now before it festered away inside him, before his master came to think he was intentionally hiding his indiscretions.

That single word command had him in motion. He slipped from the chair, taking a position on his knees, sitting back on his heels, hands clasped and eyes not daring to lift to meet Essek's.

Somehow this was easier when he'd been mute and writing.]

Even if it was meant for show earlier, your words were true. I am nothing more than a dirty slut. The way I have looked at you, the thoughts that fill my mind. They are... I am a filthy whore. You saw it first hand this morning. But it goes beyond that. Last night, I made thought into action. I brought myself to release when you sent me to wash, with my thoughts on my master where they should not have been, do not deserve to go. I am sorry.

[zauberdecke]

[ He was prepared.

And yet, Essek was not truly prepared for the deluge that came from those lips-- their pitch and how they went from nearly calm to somewhat anxious at the revealing. There had been some falters, those eyes not meeting his own gaze though there was nothing he could've tethered his gaze to other than this. He tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair lightly as he considered. ]

You will look at me and you will tell me exactly what went through your mind as you were committing your crime last night.

[ And.. he wanted to know, strangely enough. He wanted to know what sort of thoughts this Pet could have of him while he was washing himself. Also, he wanted to know what he was punishing Bren for as it was clear that his pet needed that punishment to make himself feel better. ] When you are confessing your sins, you will always look me in the eyes-- I want to see your shame for what you've done.

[ His voice soft. ] Tell me--

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren peeked up at him, tentative at first. It brought back the memories of this morning, of Essek watching his humiliation and shame with that cool and casual seeming disinterest while Bren has abased himself so thoroughly for his master's observation. Face turning a brighter shade of red, he met that gaze in all its intensity.]

I... I thought of your voice, of your calling me a good boy, of knowing I'd pleased you. I thought of your hands and the riding crop striking my ass. I thought of your voice telling me what a filthy thing I was for what I was doing.

[It was a struggle not to look away, but he would not disobey. His master had given him an order and he would do as he was told. His voice trembled as he continued.]

I imagined your hands on me, your beautiful hands. I imagined you using me as you wished, taking your own pleasure from me so that I might actually be of some use. I thought of what you might feel like inside me, and what you might taste like on my lips. I imagined a million things I will never be worthy of.

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek watched Bren paint those words in colours of intrigue; he dissected them as he managed to draw them into a concise line of meaning. Bren wanted to please him, that was at the core of it. And for the first time in what felt like forever, perhaps it was forever, he felt a stirring underneath his dressing gown, and gods he managed a thankless gratitude toward their normally unyielding ears for gravity incarnate, that he did not show precisely that he was being affected in quite this way.

His eyes felt overly bright, the golden within them expanding to a cat's backglow-- luminescent eyes.

But Bren needn't know what that meant, did he?

The Shadowhand picked his tone carefully, as he felt a coiling blossom from his stomach and curl at his inner thigh, causing him to shift ever so slightly in his seat-- lean forward a tad. ] You really are a dripping wet Puppy who cannot control himself nor his own impulses, aren't you? [ His voice soft, it felt dangerous, this line but he was playing into that narrative, he was tossing firewood onto the flames that was his Pet, Bren. ] I think the first thing you need to do, Pet-- is to apologize for being such a pathetic and depraved little Puppy...

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren had no idea that Essek was at all affected or interested in any of this. He had no reason to even think that was a possibility. For all his expectations, Essek would be disgusted by him, by his base and filthy forbidden fantasies.

But oh he wants to please him in any way that he could. In his wildest dreams, clearly, that also meant sexually, meant letting his master make use of him as an object of pleasure. But again, these were fantasies and ones he did not deserve to be having.

His eyes widened at the words, but he nodded. A sheen of tears stirred up by the shame, the humiliation of confessing his sins, his dirty, base transgressions.]

I am sorry. I am so sorry, Master, for being such a filthy, depraved thing. You deserve better than a worthless slut who can only think of his own shameful desires. Please forgive me for being such a dirty whore. I'll do anything I can to atone, to earn your favor back. Please.

[zauberdecke]

[ Perhaps Essek allowed the silence to go on a little long there while he listened to Bren's pleas, his ardent and fevering wishes to make it right. If Bren had a tail, it would be both slumped and wagging, he knew this for a fact. He bit his forefinger lightly in consideration while he watched the other man, though he was pleased by the fact that Bren did not look away.

Good Pet--

He glanced over to where his riding crop lay neatly on top of one of the tables, considering. Then he came right back so that his gaze slid to Bren's. ] I want you to go on your hands and knees and fetch that for me, and then come back to me.. still on your hands and knees. [ There was instructions in between the lines, if Bren was clever enough to intuit them out. ] You are deserving of punishment, that is what you are fit for with all of those shameful thoughts-- so I will give you precisely what you want, like the Filthy Pet that you are.

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren's gaze flickered to follow his master's, catching sight of the crop. As if he could miss it. A shiver swept through him before he could even realize it. His voice has been released from its silence now, and a soft whimper slipped free, betraying him.

A nod of understanding at the order, and at the unstated instruction tucked in between. He leaned forward onto his hands and knees and crawled that way across the room to where the riding crop lay on the table.

Careful and deliberate and with a fair amount of delicate precision, he took the crop between his teeth -- he'd need his hands for crawling and naughty puppies didn't have hands for using anyway -- and turned to make his way back on hands and knees to his master. That sheen of tears and shame still lingered in his eyes, but they were accompanied there with poorly disguised arousal and a perhaps pathetic glimmer of hope for being punished and made better, forgiven for the shameful filthy thing he was.

He crawled back to Essek, eyes seeking out his owner's as he sat back on his knees in front of him, chin lifted to offer the crop still held in his mouth.]

[zauberdecke]

[ very good, it appeared that Bren did understand the assignment in its full totality, he watched the way that Bren scrambled; not the most graceful it was true but he made a good effort to be eager and yes to do the correct thing that his Master wanted.

Essek had never seen a pet as obedient as was like this, and he was more than a little charmed when Bren came back with crop in teeth and a hopeful look cast in those sad blue eyes. The want and desire to be better, to be what he wanted him to be-- it was (clearly) arousing.

The Shadowhand leaned over to pluck the crop from his teeth though gently, still gently-- because he did not want to hurt Bren, or cross a boundary aside from what was explicitely stated. ] I think it is presumptuous for you to think that any of your filthy holes could please me when nothing else has ever done so.

[ A subtle hint that he did not enjoy sex-- with others, too many complicated feelings regarding them, some of them sparked nausea.. some angry, and others ambivalence; all in equal measures. ]

Strip. You will get the crop because naughty and desperate whores do not deserve the grace of my palm.

[ausgebrannt]

[Still gentle, even when being stern, even when Bren rather thought he deserved the pain. Pain had come to him from Ikithon for no reason at all, at least none were more than Trent's fickle, sadistic training methods. It had never been consequence or fair, only cruel. Was it any wonder he was so in awe of his new master and the fairness and sense in his words and actions.

With his mouth free, he ducked his head, another flush of shame.]

I know. I'm sorry, Master.

[Well, thinking about it. He knew that it was absurd for him to think he'd be capable of pleasing Essek Thelyss, of being something the drow could want. But the way those words were phrased, it was impossible to miss that hint that sex was not something his master liked.

Which clearly made the fact that he was such a shameful, filthy slut all the worse. Bren stripped out of his clothes, folding them carefully, never leaving his knees in the process. He turned to Essek not sure how this would go.]

Please punish me.

[zauberdecke]

[ For all that Essek thought the act was needlessly messy and inconvenient, he did have to admit that there was a pleasing symmetry to Bren's form. He did not dare think that it could be different when it really hadn't been proven as such to begin with, he held no expectations and no real hope-- but he understood that his Pet had a few buttons that were purely sexual in nature.

He wondered.

And then pushed a bookmark into that thought-- for later. That could be dwelled on when there wasn't more pressing needs. ]

Kneel over the coffee table, just like before--

[ He was going to take his time with this, just enough to build that slick anticipation-- he wanted to see that pulse at the beck flutter, perhaps it even pleased him to know that this Empire Puppy desired him, wanted him above all reason, there was a certain bit of power there that he did not get.. normally. ] And after you are positioned, I want you to beg for the punishment, tell me how much you thirst after it-- to be absolved of all your sins, knowing that they will come back and you will never be satisfied.

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren moved as instructed, ever obedient, ever ready to do what his master has bid him to do if he had any chance of pleasing him, of atoning for the filthy thing that he had done, the filthy thing that he was. He settled himself over the table as he had before, naked and vulnerable and trying not to do something even more terribly humiliating like winding up with a hardon.

He hung his head, a shaky breath before he spoke.]

Please punish me, Master. I need to be punished. I have been wicked and dirty and pathetic, unable to control myself. I am a filthy whore, but I want to be better. I need you to discipline me so I can be better... so I can be forgiven. I want to please you again. Please punish me. Please hurt me. I deserve it.

[His heart was racing, fluttering away like a desperate bird in the cage of his chest.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek found himself both charmed and tender toward the way that Bren begged for it so deeply, so plaintively. This was not play, this was rooted in something psychological; like he believed that he deserved everything negative or painful that he was given.. and none of the mercy or grace.

Honestly, Essek did not have such a revulsion when it came to thoughts of Bren masturbating-- even less when it was to thoughts of himself. If Adeen had admitted such things, the reaction would'vd been instant and ugly-- visceral.

So Essek got to his feet, standing then behind Bren and watching the skin splayed for him. Three strokes, he felt, would not be sufficient in the slightest-- so he counted to three, his voice melodious so as to give Bren time to prepare and brace, and then the first strike came downward within a rush and a flurry, to assault freckled flesh. ]

Filthy and lewd whores deserve punishment for their sins, deserve to feel the crop of their Master.

[ another countdown, and another precise strike-- this time on another section of rear spaced enough apart that it would not land on tender crop-loved flesh. He was carefully monitoring all of Bren's signs though, he would stop when it became 'enough' ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Essek saw him too clearly, straight to the core of those broken pieces of himself. Bren was certain he deserved the pain, the punishment. That made so much more sense than the kindness, the praise, the comfort. What of him was worth the trouble? Whatever the reason, there was something grounding about this, about putting it into his master's hands, about trusting the drow to give him what he deserved.

He heard that counting, the lilt of that Xhorhasian accented voice, could feel himself tense as Essek drew closer to three. The rop struck skin, sound registering before the snap of pain, the sharp sting against his skin. His breath caught, a faint flinch in him. He exhaled the breath in a shaky sound before he found his voice.]

Thank you, Master. Yes. Please. I deserve this punishment.

[He deserved each and every sting of that crop, deserved the shame of being bent over with his ass on display, vulnerable and pleading to be corrected. His cock, currently trapped beneath where he lay across the table, was at least hidden, so there was no visible sign that it also responded to the kiss of that crop against his skin, the humiliation and the pain of it.]