*...* denotes thought
------ lines between these symbols connotate a flashback
******* identifies a break in scenes
[1,2,3,4,...] signifies author notes at the bottom of fic
LARGE WARNING SIGN: This is a DARK chapter, emphasis here, and it has some highly controversial subjects, so if you are underage or cannot handle such topics, please go no further... consider yourselves warned... oh, and this is my FIRST attempt at lemon writing... so no laughing... at least not in that part... oh, just go read... and I apologize for the length...
Gundam Forest Book 1 Part 4
Quatre sat in the large solar of his estate, bright sunlight streaming through the streakless panes of glass that comprised the high windows. His deceptively graceful hands were occupied with a thin, fragile cup filled with gently steaming tea. The beverage served as an excuse, a convenient diversion with which his attention could be distracted. That way, he could explain the silence that loomed between his two companions and himself.
Two companions who used to be the best of friends, and more.
Two companions who used to be lovers.
HIS lovers.
Quatre busied himself with taking a silent sip of his tea, allowing the nearly scalding liquid to glide cautiously down his throat. As he continued to hold the tea cup up to his lips, he discreetly glanced up from underneath a generous endowment of lashes; lashes that had made him the envy of his 29 sisters, despite their own physical perfections; lashes that served as a convenient tool, especially when prudent observation was necessary.
His azure gaze was fixated first on the Asian man sitting to his right, his strong arms crossed over a muscular chest, his expression drawn and foreboding. Quatre quietly observed Wufei, noting the differences in his physical appearance and his demeanor.
The passing year had been kind to Wufei, allowing him to gain an inch and a half in height, although he was still on the short side, an attribute of his heritage. His hair was still drawn back in his eternal ponytail, tight and painful looking. Even though it had been a year, and they had parted on strained and broken terms, Quatre's fingers itched even now to release the black strands and see them freed in an ebony curtain around Wufei's face.
Dragging his thoughts from the glowering man to his right, Quatre turned his focus to the passive man sitting calmly to his left. Trowa's head was bent, his green eyes focused on the cup sitting in front of him on the coffee table. He had not lifted his gaze to meet Quatre's or Wufei's once in the two days that had passed since his arrival at the Winner estate.
The couple of glances that Quatre had managed to get of Trowa's expressions revealed a haunting and painfully thin visage. His face was gaunt, the cheekbones highlighted by the tight skin drawn over the bones. Shadows had claimed permanent residence on Trowa's face, the skin discolored under the eyes.
Trowa was still fighting his personal demons, and it looked like a losing battle.
Sighing inwardly, Quatre laid his teacup down on the coffee table that stood in the midst of the three men like an island, separating them into three distinct zones of personal space. The minute {chink} sounded as loud as a gunshot as it reverberated through the dead room.
Wincing, Quatre decided enough was enough and decided to break the silence.
However, fate intervened in the form of a knock on the solar's door.
Grateful, despite the cowardice implied thereof, Quatre ignored the startled, doe like jump that Trowa displayed and the disgruntled glare coming from Wufei's area, and called out to the welcomed intruder. "Come in," he said, his voice rich and low, having matured over the past year, much to his relief.
The door opened and Rashid entered the room, caution apparent in his actions. His expression was torn between concern for Quatre and sorrow that three young men once so in love with one another were now acting like they were no more than strangers. Quatre gave the older man a reassuring smile of welcome, the only one to meet the tall Maguanac's gaze.
"Nani, Rashid?"
"Pardon the intrusion, Master Quatre, but the limo is ready. All of your requested items are ready for your convenience."
"Aa, arigato, Rashid."
Bowing once in acknowledgment, Rashid left as quietly as he had arrived.
Quatre turned to the other two men in the room and said, "Shall we go?"
Wufei snorted once, but stood up. He unfolded his arms, allowing them to hang loosely at his sides. He finally looked at the slightly taller blond and said, "What about Duo? We're not all here yet."
Quatre closed his eyes, regret and sorrow briefly fleeting across his face. When he opened his eyes, sadness lurked in the azure depths. "We have waited two days for him. He's not coming... and even if he does... he knows where we're going."
Quatre started towards the door, his back to the other two men as he started to leave, confident in the knowledge that the others would follow him.
However, Trowa finally spoke up, his voice quiet and flat. "Why would he come? He has no reason to attend this... farce... of a goodbye."
Quatre whirled around to face the still seated man, his eyes wide. Trowa still had his gaze set on the teacup, not even having lifted his head to address the other men eye to eye. His hard won calm shaken, he stuttered out, "W-wh-what do you mean, farce?" His eyes narrowed as he demanded an answer. "Heero's dead... why would a memorial service for him be a farce?"
"Because he's not dead."
The firm decree from behind Quatre caused him to whirl around again, shock racing through his system even as his relief started to well up.
The last of them had finally arrived.
Duo Maxwell stood in the open doorway, his gaze earnest and frank, his expression open and inviting even with the conspicuous absence of his grin. Gone was his old mock priest outfit, replaced instead with a mature set of black slacks, gray collared shirt, and black blazer.
One of his hands was thrust into a deep pocket of the twill pants, the other was out, a piece of paper clutched in the grip. Duo was still wearing his traditional, trade mark braid, though it had gotten a few inches longer in the past year.
Wufei nodded once in recognition, even as he uttered, "Maxwell."
Duo cocked one eyebrow and with a slight quirk of his lips upwards indicating a grin, he answered, "Chang."
Duo turned to look at Trowa, the quiet brunette having finally stood up, although his gaze continued to focus downwards. Duo shook his head slightly before he said, "Trowa."
Trowa's eyes flicked upwards for a fleeting second, revealing sorrow torn eyes, before they carefully fell back down. He said, "Duo."
Contented, if not satisfied, with the others' greetings, Duo turned his attention back to the blond man responsible for their reunion. "Well Quatre, looks like you managed to get most of us here. I guess I should congratulate you. Didn't realize you had it in you."
The blond, blue eyed aristocrat finally recovered his capabilities of speech and coherent thought to blurt out with, "Duo! You made it."
Duo smirked again, even as he quipped, "Thanks for pointing out the obvious. Now, can we get back to the subject at hand?"
Quatre was stunned for a brief second at Duo's rather abrupt tone of voice, though he didn't allow it to show. Too many dealings with politicians had taught him to develop a rather adept poker face. He quickly assessed the changes in Duo, noticing for the first time that the American was now taller and more muscular. It seemed that the past year had done wonders for Duo's strength, judging from the mass of muscles that rippled through the shirt front.
His expression even, he said carefully, "Duo, I know you have believed that Heero is still alive, but we all-"
Duo hissed at Quatre, his casual stance immediately stiffening. "Don't say it, Quatre. Heero is still alive and I have proof."
Quatre shook his head, despair and grief mingling with a growing sense of irritation. *Why can't he see the truth?* he thought. However, he decided to humor the braided man, hoping to eventually hit him with the inevitable truth.
"And just where has he been for the past year, if he's still alive?"
The question was innocent enough, deliberately given in a slightly condescending tone, as if Quatre was an adult trying to convince a belligerent child of some universal truth. The emphasis was not lost on Duo. The other two ex pilots just silently watched the exchange, unwilling to jump into the fray until the lines had been clearly defined.
Duo's eyes narrowed into thin slits of violet anger, his derision of Quatre's attempts apparent. He bit out, "I don't give a damn whether or not you believe me. I wasn't even planning on coming here to inform the three of you, but I needed some help."
Duo shrugged at the surprise that lit up Quatre's eyes, ignoring the questions that lurked to the surface. He continued on. "If you won't help me, it won't prove to be a hurdle for me. I can just hack into some aristocrat's funds. But I thought that you might want a chance to redeem yourself for doubting Heero's survival capabilities."
Quatre struggled to control his rampaging mind, focusing in on one question at a time. "If he is still alive, where has Heero been for the past year?" he echoed his earlier question.
Duo's eyes closed briefly before he spit out, "Some establishment called the Girou."
Quatre sucked in a loud breath, shock running through his system, his exclamation betraying the fact that he knew of or at least was familiar with the name that Duo had just spit out. Duo's expression darkened even further as he realized that the name of the establishment was not lost on the blond.
Dangerously, in a low and quiet voice, Duo asked, "And how would you know what the Girou is?"
Sudden intuition flooded through Quatre's mind and he waved his hands frantically in an attempt to pacify the angry man in front of him. He blurted out with, "Because that's the name of a brothel I've been trying to close down for months!"
Stunned, Duo rocked back on his heels, his anger appeased for a moment. While he was still recovering from this shock, Trowa and Wufei exchanged puzzled glances between the two of them. Having been pretty much left out of the loop, they were lost in the direction of the conversation.
Quatre recovered first, his expression turning earnest. "And what proof do you have that Heero is there? And how did he survive the accident last year?"
Duo smirked, his earlier humor returning. "Well, among other things, this email that Hilde managed to send me. The factors in it are just too coincidental to be anything else. Here, take a look. And on a side note, I don't know how he survived. But I have my suspicions. I'm hoping that he'll be able to tell us."
Duo handed the thin piece of paper to the blond, then stepped away to lean against the wall by the open door. Quatre looked down at the paper, unaware that Trowa and Wufei had stepped up behind him to read over his shoulder.
Their individual scents, Trowa's slightly musky with an inherent savageness and Wufei's carrying a hint of spice and exotic sensualness, hit him like a ton of bricks. The absence of the familiar scents for the past year, combined with the shocking revelations of the day, and mixed together with the sudden reappearance of the aforementioned scents and the written words swimming in front of his eyes created a heady experience for the young blond. It took all of his self control to reign in his raging hormones and focus in on the task at hand. Especially when all he wanted to do was toss Duo out of the room, and mark both Wufei and Trowa as his again.
The three read the email silently, then glanced up at Duo again, almost as one unit. Duo, who had been watching them silently, almost laughed to see them in unison again after so long. Even the long separation couldn't destroy the bond between the three of them.
He only hoped that the same could be said of Heero and him.
Wufei was the first to break the silence. "So you believe that Yuy is here in this... place?"
Duo nodded his head once in affirmation.
Quatre exclaimed, "Just what are you planning on doing, Duo? Go in there toting grade A explosives and wave around a bunch of machine guns, demanding they return him?"
Duo shook his head. "No. Even I'm not that stupid. Not only would that probably result in nothing more than futile effort, that would also put Heero in danger. And I'm not willing to do that."
Trowa asked, "Then what are you planning on doing?"
"Simple. I plan on infiltrating the damned place, buying a night with Heero, and then escaping with him."
Quatre raised an eyebrow as he began to suggest a more peaceful, and less risky, alternative. "I'm almost done with the petition to close that establishment down, calling it a blight on our society. Why can't we wait until the petition goes through? That way, no blood shed will have to occur and Heero can be freed rather... peacefully."
Duo glared at Quatre, although the blond didn't quail in the face of his frown. "Because I don't plan on allowing Heero to languish in that fucking hellhole one more minute! I can't believe you'd even suggest that. Besides, we don't have that much time. Didn't you read the back of the email?"
Quatre flipped over the paper, noticing for the first time the continuation of the letter. As he read the words, his face drained of any remaining color. "Oh... my... oh, sweet Allah!"
"Now do you understand?"
Wordlessly, Quatre nodded his head, speechless.
Duo turned around, ready to head out the door. "So I guess you're all willing to come along, ne? Let's go."
Duo left the solar, not glancing back at the stunned men he left behind. For a few moments they were silent, not moving. Suddenly, Duo popped back in, his former maniacal grin in place, a mere echo of his piloting days.
"And Quatre? I would bring plenty of credits. Knowing Heero like I do, the price for him will more than likely sky rocket."
Duo slipped back out, followed mere moments later by the other three ex-pilots.
*********************
The man cowered in the glare coming from the small form in front of him. He didn't like it when she stared at him with those cold, icy eyes of her. They frightened him, even placed as they were in the cherubic, innocent looking visage.
She hissed out, "I can't believe it took you a year to find him. I didn't set up the entire scenario at the OZ base 97248 so you could botch it and lose track of him not four days later!"
"Forgive me, milady, but he destroyed the entire base, escaped, and then disappeared! Not even the former Gundam pilots knew where he was!"
Her tone, although still harsh, slightly gentled. "And that is the only reason why I do not destroy you where you stand. Since you did manage to find out where he is now, I am giving you one last chance to acquire him. Now go."
The man bowed and scraped as he started to edge from the room. "Of course, milady. I will succeed this time."
The girl twirled around in her chair lazily, allowing the slightly squeaky gears to echo in the room. She waited until the man had just managed to reach the door before she said rather off handedly, "Don't bother coming back here if you fail this time... General Valenta."
The still rather portly man turned back, fear etched on his scarred face, remnants of his last scrape with the Gundam pilots from a year ago. After the destruction of his base, only he and two others had survived. Luckily, they had been retained by their mistress, rather than being executed for their failure. However, it seemed that her patience was wearing thin.
"Iie, milady, we won't."
Whether he was talking about failing or coming back was never specified and she let the subject slide. [1]
*********************
The atmosphere of the lounge was heavy and thick, complete with a haze of smoke and the low rumble of chatter from the patrons. The lights were dim and muted, casting shadows on already shady features. Sexual tension permeated the air, lingering promises of physical satisfaction without the stifling peril of permanence.
Music, deep and stimulating with an enervating pulse resonated, creating a throbbing sensation detectable through the floor and every piece of furniture. The sensuous beat curled itself around the patrons until it held them in its sway, creating a delicious tension rifed with anticipation of activities to come.
A certain type of character frequented the local establishment known to its chosen few as Girou. [2] The few that understood the meaning behind the name found it ironic, considering the nature of the establishment's concealed agenda. Most who did not understand the name thought perhaps it was some sort of symbolic phrase that held sentimental value to the owner.
At least until they learned the obscure, hidden path that lay in the small building, the young secret treasures that awaited those with darker passions.
And with money or credits to spare.
The owner was a seedy man, his small stature belying the cruelty that lay beneath the skin. However, his... pets knew of his streak of ruthlessness, of the savagery that he was capable of. That had been the first of many painful lessons he had inflicted upon them during what he had called his... or rather their... training sessions. And it was all done for the purpose of learning how to entertain his... clients.
The dozens that he selected from the hundreds of those that indicated interest were well treated, according to their individual tastes and preferences. It didn't matter what they wanted, he could deliver the product. He had a wide spectrum of aesthetically pleasing possibilities from which he could offer those willing to pay his outrageous prices. Although they were high, the prices could be negotiated to fit the individual, provided that the client fit his other criteria.
After all, human flesh was not cheap to come by; easy to acquire, but definitely not cheap... especially if one considered the training required to properly condition and mold the flesh.
But then, he always did throw in some great surprises, much like the one planned for tonight.
The man known to his clients simply as Teishu [3] stood in the doorway of the main lounge area, popping his gum and cracking his knuckles. As he stared out into the sea of eager customers, an evil little grin started to spread across his pock marked face.
He was going to get some money tonight... a lot of it judging from the curiosity and the excitement lingering in the air. His fingers practically itched to get started.
Turning in the doorway to peer into the hall behind him, his shifty brown eyes sought out and captured those of his head dominatrix. Cocking his head to one side, he asked, "Is the prize ready?"
The dominatrix, a stunning red head clad in nothing more than a skimpy halter top and thong with black plastic bitch boots, simply cracked the whip in her slender hand, smiling at the sharp stacotic noise. She practically purred, "Yes, he is, my lord. He fought at first, as usual, but the drugs we gave him worked like they always do. He'll remain in his haze for several hours, long enough for the events of the evening to unfold."
"Is he dressed?"
The red headed vixen simply ran her tongue slowly around her lush lips, her gaze calculating and enticing.
Teishu smirked in response before turning back to the enthused crowd. He murmured over his shoulder, "Then bring him, Vailyn. I shall get the crowd ready."
"I shall send Eden to retrieve him, Master Teishu."
*********************
Eden carefully opened to the door to the newest addition's room, her eyes carefully scrutinizing the still form lying on the plush bed. The room was dark, the only illumination being from the hall light that swept by Eden's slim figure. The one window had been completely boarded up, the only other escape path securely sealed.
Eden shuddered as she looked around the room with a gaze long accustomed to darkness. She could barely make out the dozens upon dozens of devices that decorated the walls, table, and desktops. Every single conceivable torture or pleasure device known to human existence resided in the room that held Teishu's latest 'treasure'. Eden didn't know which was worse.
Having all the tools gathered here, all in one easy accessible location, or the fact that she knew all of these tools had been used upon the form lying on the bed. All for the sake of his 'training'.
Eden shuddered again as she stepped into the room, leaving the door ajar behind her. She had been a denizen of the Girou for over ten years now, and had been witnessed too much of humanity's more basic depravities. However, the activities that had been rumored to occur in this room, especially to one so young, had left even her hardened cynical soul shaken.
As she made her way to the bedside, she shook her head in sympathy. Ever since Teishu had discovered his little treasure's... hidden talents... the boy's training had increased in ferocity. The methods used upon him to test his limitations had grown in severity; the level of abuse so elevated that the other denizens of the Girou gagged whenever Teishu or his little entourage of 'trainers' neared room 21.
As Eden's eyes fell upon the boy lying on the bed, they took in the golden, flawless skin with an appraising eye. The way his skin glowed, no marks blemishing the perfect flesh, one would never suspect that just hours ago he had been subjected to one last training session with Master Teishu. It was truly unfortunate that the boy healed so rapidly, allowing nothing to remain behind as an indication to the tortures that he suffered.
Unfortunate, and a little unnerving.
Eden wasn't able to explain it herself, but for some reason, no matter what harm was done to the boy, the marks never stayed. No matter what was torn, what was split, or what was broken, within hours they healed themselves.
It had made the young boy Teishu's treasure and his newest gold mine. A pet that could withstand any amount of torture and come through with no physical disfigurement was a rare prize indeed. One that Teishu, judging from the night's upcoming event, fully planned to exploit.
Eden made a face as she thought about Teishu's latest scheme. He had gathered together a motley crew of his usual suspects, including a few new faces that Eden had never ever seen before, and probably would have remembered had she ever. There were only two things she knew about most of the men gathered... 1) they were all into boys and 2) they were all exceedingly wealthy.
Teishu was planning on auctioning off his little treasure for the night, ready to reap a giant reward before selling the dark haired beauty on a nightly basis. He had been planting hints among his regular clients and not so regular clients for weeks, building up to this night.
Eden sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the quiet boy. The boy that Teishu had given the name Wing to was slender, but aesthetically pleasing to look at. His young body was firm and hard, complete with muscles that rippled underneath the gold toned skin. His features were exotic, his asian descent apparent. The hair was an indiscernible shade of brown, often flopping over the boy's forehead in an unruly mass, no matter the teasing or primping done to it. His eyes were deep pools of pure blue, although they held centuries worth of pain and anguish; whenever they were coherent, that is.
Eden often found herself wondering what had caused the pain in the boy's eyes. What could have possibly placed the sadness, the despair, the anguish in the youngster's gaze. She wondered why he had such a lonely and lost countenance, one that had definitely occurred before his... placement in Teishu's Girou.
Eden looked at the boy closely, her forest green eyes searching for any signs of awareness. There were none.
The boy's eyes were open, although they were staring straight up at the ceiling, neither having registered her presence in the room, or the fact that she was sitting on the bed next to him. As she looked closer, she could see the usual cloudy haze that lurked on the surfaces of his eyes, signifying his drugged state.
Teishu had obviously drugged the child again, probably since the boy still had not grown accustomed to his new lifestyle.
It was both a blessing and a curse.
Most new inhabitants of the Girou adapted within one or two months of their captivity. The boy had been a tenant for the past year, but had come no closer to accepting his fate. His repeated escape attempts had angered Teishu to the breaking point, forcing the man to beat the child to the point of death.
That was when they had learned of his miraculous healing capabilities, and an evil thought had entered Teishu's mind. When the boy had awakened again, Teishu had ordered the dominatrixes to keep him sedated or drugged at all times.
The degree of his forced submission would alter from time to time, yet he was almost never coherent. He was too dangerous to keep around otherwise. As it was, Teishu had lost two of his more powerful guards and three valuable 'trainers' before he had decided to keep the boy subdued.
Eden shook her head and palmed the silver key that Vailyn had pressed into her hand. She reached up and over to unlock the boy's manacles and shackles, releasing the thin form from his soft prison.
She took the boy's wrist and hauled him gently to a sitting position. There was no flicker of awareness or recognition in the boy's face, just the mindless obedience that came with the drug.
Eden stood up, carefully manuevering the boy to a standing position as well. Then, her hand still gripping his wrist, she led him from the bed to the open doorway. It was almost time for his 'presentation'.
And he was certainly dressed for the occasion. The boy had been prepared for the night, his skin scrubbed until it was clean, glowing actually. His hair had been brushed, although the efforts had done nothing towards taming the unruly locks. The boy's listless eyes were lined in thin, black kohl, granting him an even more enticing and exotic air.
His lips were painted a light blush, the hue making the soft flesh even more enticing. His neck was encased in a simple band of thinly pressed gold, the only adornment on his upper body.
Wing's chest was bare, no clothing covering the sleek and taut flesh. His nipples had been painted a matching hue, the blush a complimentary contrast with his skin tone. The boy's chest gently tapered down into a slender waist, complete with a firm, tight stomach.
A silver belt rode low on his hips, falling far below his navel. A simple black cloth, placed both in the front and the rear, barely hid the treasures that lay underneath the satin, the muscular legs revealed with every step. Wing's feet were bare, the only adornment a single gold anklet on each ankle. Matching bracelets adorned the boy's wrists, the metal glinting in the weak light.
The jewelry served two purposes. One was for the surface attraction, the metal catching and holding the observer's eyes. The other purpose was reserved for the bedroom. Each circlet had a small, but titanium enforced alloy ring that served as the tether links to the chains on his bed. Although small, they were sufficient enough to contain the boy, even with his great strength. Especially considering that Teishu didn't allow the boy enough awareness to utilize his strength.
The end result of the boy's appearance was meant to entice and enthrall the viewers, granting enough flesh to arouse excitement, but concealing enough to send a massive frenzy of lust raging through the crowd.
As Eden gently led the boy from his solitary room towards the viewing hall, they were intercepted by Vailyn, the head dominatrix. Eden quailed under Vailyn's sharp gaze, her own falling to the floor in submission.
The red head asked, "Is he ready?"
Eden nodded her head, keeping her gaze averted. "Yes, Mistress."
The object of their discussion continued to gaze straight ahead, unaware of their conversation and of the events to come. His features remained in their slack countenance, his focus on nothing, trapped within his own mind.
Vailyn calmly turned his head, peering into his eyes. Satisfied by whatever she saw there, she released him and motioned down the hallway with her whip. "Then let's get going. The auction is about to begin."
********************
The lounge fell into a silence as Teishu stepped onto the wooden platform that served as a stage. With a greedy, speculative eye, he surveyed the crowd, noting the presence of the man he had been approached by earlier. He could tell that frenzied bidding would most likely stem from that one.
Teishu smiled at everyone and launched into the night's main activity.
"I'm sure that you are all anxious to get started on tonight's... festivities." Teishu paused here, allowing the din in the room to escalate before once more commanding their silence.
"And so, without further ado... I present the newest addition to my little 'family', Wing."
Teishu signaled with his hand and Vailyn stepped out leading a passive Wing. Stunned silence and appreciation filled the room, only to be quickly followed by exclamations of lust and excitement.
Teishu raised his hands again for silence and then said, "For this night only, Wing will be auctioned off to the highest bidder. But those who don't win, don't despair. He will be added to the rest of the roster soon enough. Everyone will have a chance to... play. Now, shall we start the bidding at say... 5,000 credits?"
And the bidding was on.
*********************
Teishu smirked and rubbed his hands together, the paper with the credit marks securely enfolded in his tight grip. The payoffs for this night had been wondrous for him, the brat having raised over 5 million credits. The bidding had wound down to two major participants, one being a lecherous old millionaire and the other the man who had approached him earlier in the night.
He had suspected that the desperation in the man's eyes would force him to bid high. And it had paid off. It had almost seemed like the man was wagering his very life upon the outcome of the auction. Teishu supposed it was good for him that he won.
Teishu unlocked the door to his treasure's room, making slight note that Vailyn had prepared the boy. She had secured the manacles and shackles, leaving the boy's arms raised above his head and his legs spread wide and open. Teishu entered the room, motioning the man behind him.
"Well, here is the prize you have won for the night. He is yours until morning."
The man studied the boy lying on the bed, exposed and vulnerable. His posture seemed to stiffen for a moment before he relaxed. He asked, "Why is his head lolling like that?"
Teishu shrugged and said, "He is drugged. It was necessary to make this as easy as possible. If you want him struggling, the drug will wear off around midnight. We won't administer a new dose if you think you can handle him, though more than likely Wing'll remain unconscious until morning. The key to the bindings is on the desk."
The man thought for a moment and then nodded. "That would be acceptable. So, I thank you and wish you good night."
Teishu smirked and said, "Oh no, not yet. I'm going to wait here for awhile and observe. I must make sure my merchandise is being well taken care of."
"That wasn't part of the deal!" the man said, outraged.
Teishu raised one baggy eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders. "If you don't like it, I can give back your credits and you can leave. There's a man down there who is willing to pay almost what you did for this one."
The man glared at Teishu and said in a biting voice, "That won't be necessary. Who knows, it might heighten the passion."
Teishu nodded at the man, and then turned around to settle down in a chair in the corner. The man swept off his long, black cloak, settling it down on another chair. Then he turned and approached the bed.
The man reached down with one hand and gently caressed the slack face, sliding his fingers along the satiny skin. Sitting on the bed, he leaned down, his lips hovering over the boy's. He gently breathed over the warming skin, light feather breaths meant to tickle, although the boy showed no outward sign of reaction.
The man manuevered himself on the bed until he was stretched out along Wing's length. Continuing to caress the boy's face with his light, moist breaths, one of his hands reached down to gently caress the boy's mid drift, lightly playing over the hard muscles. He delighted in the sensation of the firm flesh, all thoughts of the other man in the room flying from his mind.
He finally lowered his face, capturing the tender lips between his own. At first the kiss was tender, a bare whisper of the true action. Then all of a sudden, the man turned fierce, his kiss bruising and demanding, though the lips beneath his were slack and yielding.
The man reached up with one hand to gently flick and tease one nipple, noting with delight that the drug did not inhibit Wing's body's reactions to stimulus. He gently pulled his mouth away from his partner's, only after pulling the bottom lip for a bit, to leave a light, damp trail down the slim neck and muscular chest.
His questing lips latched onto one hardening nub, his tongue gently darting out to lave the rouge off of the nipple to reveal the true color. The rouge was slightly bitter in taste, but was counteracted by the level of erotic sensations that bolted through the man's systems. He could feel his arousal, hot and heavy, bulging against his pants.
As he moved onto the other nub, he reached down and slipped one hand underneath the black silk that covered the boy. He gently cupped Wing's testes, lightly testing the weight, before moving on to the stiffening shaft. He caressed the sensitive skin, gratified that the body at least was aware, if not the mind.
As his mind became overwhelmed by the desire shooting through him, he continued to leave a trail of kisses down the flesh, heading towards his ultimate goal. All thoughts of his previous mission had scattered to the four winds, his mind overcome with the desires of the flesh.
Moving the silk aside with his free hand, the man noticed with humor that Wing's coverings were no more than two sheets of cloth attached together by the silver belt. Moving the top layer aside gave him immediate access to the boy's hidden areas.
He trailed one finger up and down the boy's long, iron hard thighs, delighting in the motions. Languidly, he sucked on one of his fingers, generously coating it with saliva. With a slight bit of anticipation, he moved the finger to the tight ring of muscle that protected the boy's opening.
Reaching back up the boy's body, he prepared to claim Wing's mouth with his to calm and muffle any sounds of pain, when his questing lips suddenly encountered moisture that he had not left there. Salty moisture, stemming from the boy's unfocusing eyes.
Cursing to himself, his mission and objective rushing back to his consciousness with a vengeance, he mentally berated himself for what he had been about to do. Turning viciously to the man still quietly observing, he bit out, "Is that enough, or do you need to subject the boy to even more humiliation to satisfy your perversions?!"
Teishu bolted up from his chair, anger apparent on his craggy features. He headed towards the man, intending to toss him out on his aroused ass. However, one look at Wing's face stopped him.
The boy was crying.
Crying.
In the past year he had been at the Girou, he had never shed one tear... never.
Teishu shrugged, and then said, "Aa, well. Perhaps another time, ne? This time I will leave the two of you alone." The man headed towards the door and with one last look, he said, "Have a pleasurable night."
With that, Teishu left the bedroom, locking the door behind him.
*********************
Teishu walked down the hallway, away from room 21 towards his own personal room at the far end of the building. However, he was stopped by Vailyn who approached him cautiously.
"Master Teishu?" she called.
"What is it?" he asked gruffly.
"We had a bit of a problem a little while ago concerning some new patrons. It seemed they didn't want to accept the finality of tonight's auctions. They caused quite a stir before we were able to toss them out of the building."
"Did they cause any damage?"
"A few minor nicks in the furniture and walls," came the answer.
Teishu grinned and then said lecherously, "Well then, I guess I'll just have to take the costs out of someone's hide. How about yours?" he asked, roughly pulling her to him.
"Ooh, would you please, Master?" she purred.
Teishu chuckled even as he led the way to his rooms. "Voyeur," he leered.
"It's how you trained me."
*********************
The man in room 21 waited for a good five minutes before turning back to the boy on the bed. Reassured that no one was going to come bursting in, he picked up the key on the desk and unlocked the boy's shackles. That done, he turned away, heading back to his cloak.
Reaching into the hidden depths of the black shawl, he pulled his hand away containing one slightly glowing green test tube. With a smirk, he turned to the wood plats that boarded up the window, opening the test tube. The escape route had only been boarded up with wood. The man chuckled and thought, *You'd think they'd seal this room up better. Oh well, the better it is for me.*
Pouring the contents of the vial on the slats, the green liquid starting to quickly eat away at the wood, the unique properties decimating the obstacle. The process took no more than five minutes, the boards having completely dissolved.
The man thanked the scientists he had gotten the liquid from, the unique properties of dissolving wood, but no other materials having coming in handy. He was also grateful that at the last minute he had added the vial to his small arsenal.
Satisfied that the window was unsealed, he opened it and looked around. The ground was less than four feet away, lucky for him, the window wide and spacious. It would be an easy escape.
The man turned to the boy on the bed, wrapping his barely clothed body up in the long black cloak. With a little bit of effort, the man managed to get a secure hold on the boy, lifting him in his arms. With a grunt, he headed for the window.
The boy, although awake, still wasn't focusing on anything in particular, his gaze moving around listlessly, his body limp and unresisting.
Carefully manuevering his way out the large opening, he escaped from the building, carrying his precious burden. With one last look at the ruined wall, the man turned and faded into the night, his mind on the future and the boy wrapped securely in his arms.
TBC...
[1] reference the prologue... hee hee hee, tied it together with another plot twist and another eeevvvviiiillllll villain! ahh, but where would all the stories be without a twisted, dark villain... at least where would my fics be? ^_^;;
[2] japanese for brothel... get the point? (shrugs) I try... and fail... and try again! ^_^
[3] japanese for master, host, landlord, etc. (snickers) ^_~
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