
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7883140.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Kurt_Hummel/David_Karofsky
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Slavery, Alternate_Universe_-_Beauty_and_the_Beast
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-08-27 Words: 27430
****** Twas Beauty ******
by cornflakesareglutenfree
Summary
     Kurt is a slave. David is a beast. Somehow it all works out. And by
     "works out" I mean "bdsm" and "pseudo human transformation".
Notes
     All the warnings. If you have squicks or triggers, just don't. Click
     out. Back away. This is not the fic you're looking for.
     It's been a long long long time since I wrote this, and then I pulled
     all my fic from the interwebs, but now I'm kind of over it.
 
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                  A new slave
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
                                        
         As the pale one shivered on the platform, Sir David sat in his alcove,
enshrouded in enough fabric that the effect was surely that of an eclectic
Lordling set on showing off his diaphanous robes to emphasize the quality
thereof, certainly no one ever thought it could be that the fabrics were to
hide the hideousness beneath. Who could have fathomed the depth of the
depravity and soullessness that lived within, but no matter. This was an
important outing, else he would've sent a servant to do his bidding, but that
was no longer an option after the poor weaklings he'd been presented with
previously.
         The three slaves that had been brought to the estate had found ways of
ending their lives when they'd been shown the dungeon, or as David preferred to
call it, the play room. Apparently the sight of his devices and tools was
frightening, and added to that their introductory beating, could lead to
madness. Or maybe it was in the water. David couldn't tell, and wasn't
particularly concerned. He just needed to find another slave, because according
to the prophecy, the slave would set him free, and he'd wasted such time with
the previous few, he now had a very limited time frame. Six months, to be
exact. He would turn twenty one and the curse would become permanent if he
hadn't found "the slave who would, through the power of a submissive spirit,
break open the future." Whatever the hell that meant.
         So here he sat, quietly watching the steady stream of slim, smooth
skinned bodies as they passed across the platform in the sun. The day was cool,
and the livestock was needfully bare, being posed each in turn to put their
genitals on display for the bidders, each in hopes of finding a purchaser in
order to prevent being added to the ranks of laborers who often died before
their five year indenture was complete. In fact, to be chosen as a pleasure
slave was seen as an honor and could provide a freed slave with a certain
social standing.
Currently Sir David's attention was caught by a pale brunet toy posed on the
stage. He'd been positioned into a handstand, with his legs splayed and secured
open in a split while an attendant stroked the toy's hard cock and showed a
very large lubed phallus to the crowd, crowing like in a circus as he pressed
it into the slave's anus, securing it with a belt before also showing the crowd
a penis gag, leaning down to press it into the slave's mouth, securing behind
his head. After a few minutes, the slave's face was red with blood from his
upended position, but wasn't released. As the toy's erection started to wane, a
small cane was produced and his penis was whipped with it, leaving red stripes
on the flushed, taut flesh. Sir Dave couldn't help but salivate over the show
being made of this particular creature. He motioned to his servant to make an
offer. This one certainly looked like he had potential.
After the offer had been accepted by the seller, Sir David's servant returned
with the good news, but David only vaguely heard him over the rushing of blood
in his head as he watched the performance on stage as his new possession was
untied and his fillers removed slowly, the keepers toying with him by thrusting
the phallus in and out of his anus a few times before removing it for good,
then doing the same with the gag, only holding it tight while pinching his
nostrils until a motion from David's alcove ended their fun.
David's servant went forward to retrieve their purchase, catching the lead that
was attached to the collar it wore, and pulling steadily forward. By the time
they reached the table, Sir David had already swept into the coach sitting so
close to the rear exit of their viewing area. This placement was necessary to
facilitate any outing for him, as he was quite imposing in form, and preferred
not to make notice made of his presence.
The servant brought the creature with him to the door of the carriage, quietly
inquiring of his Master where he preferred their purchase reside during the
trip back to the estate. When a growled "Within" was his only response, he
tugged the lead and motioned to the stock to climb the step, using a hand
against his still bare buttocks to propel the figure inside the carriage.
Taking his seat on the bench at the front of the carriage next to the driver,
they were soon off.
Sir David looked at the pitiful looking pile of flesh and bone that rested on
the unsteady floor of the carriage, that heap that now belonged to him for the
next five years. (Though that could be fudged into forever, depending on how
securely he kept his purchase, and if Sir David was nothing else, he was
certainly secure.) He sent a foot forward, nudging at the unmoving pile,
becoming impatient at the lack of response.
Finally he reached out a glove covered hand to grip the shivering mass by it's
collar, pulling it up to it's knees. The creature jolted when he started
speaking, but kept it's eyes trained on the floor. "You'll not earn yourself
covering by lying on the floor, slave. If you plan on not freezing to death, I
suggest you present yourself, and quickly." Sir David sat back, but only had to
wait a few moments for a particularly intense shiver to shake the slim body
before him. The spine snapped straight and legs were quickly folded beneath it,
ass sitting on ankles with knees spread, hands coming up to link behind it's
neck as it tilted it's head back, mouth open wide and eyes focused on the
fabric before it's face.
Sir David hummed with approval, taking in the lovely view, allowing himself
time to do so before another body shuddering shiver wracks the small nude
frame. He then reaches for his own robes, pulling them open at the waist and
un-hooking the waist of the pants he wore underneath with his gloved hands.
Hissing at the minimal contact, he pulls his mostly soft cock out and spreads
his knees, motioning at his crotch. "Suck, Mutt. Please me and I'll cover you."
There was faint hesitance, so Sir David found himself reaching for the collar
on either side, lifting the head of his soft penis into the still wide cavern,
pulling the slave down onto his dick. "You bite me, I'll have your teeth
removed from your skull, understand, Mutt? Now please me and I'll consider not
allowing you to freeze to death."
A soft kitten lick against the flaccid flesh was his only response, but he
couldn't expect any better, since he'd silenced the creature in the most
effective way. Well, at least the most effective way shy of having his vocal
cords cut, but as the new purchase hadn't made any sounds yet, he'd perhaps
already been silenced. It made no matter to Sir David either way. The only
purpose of this slave was the curse, and past that it might be set free, or
more likely, be given to the guards as a gift of thanks. They'd like that.
Finally the little dog had gotten him hard and straining, though it was
becoming difficult to enjoy as the small frame was shaking so badly with the
cold, so Sir David relented, draping the fabric he wore around it, using the
rough wool to pull it in closer. As he came near his peak he gripped the toy by
it's hair and fucked mercilessly into the hot cavern, stilling inside as he
came, pulsing into it's throat.
Eventually he pulled back, allowing it to breathe before pulling it forward so
it's head rested on his lap. He shifted, directing it to open it's mouth again
and guiding his cock, soft again, back between it's lips. "You'll get used to
having it there soon, Mutt. My cock will soon be home to you, and when I'm
pleased with you, you'll be rewarded with it in your mouth and throat. When I'm
displeased... Well, we'll address that when we reach the estate, but you'll
prefer to please me and have my cock in your mouth, be assured. So rest a
while, Mutt, but don't let it fall out of your lips, or I'll be very unhappy."
Leather wrapped fingers sifted through the hair on the slave's head, pressing
in firmly when they went over a sharp bump in the road, making sure that it
never released Sir David's soft penis. David was proud of his new toy when they
arrived at the estate later on. He swept his still gloved fingers over it's
cheek, waking it from it's slumber, pulling his cock from between it's lips.
His dick was half hard now from being rocked by the carriage gently in and out
of his toy's mouth, but that would be fixed later. Maybe after Mutt had had
it's welcome beating, he'd reward it by fucking it's face again. Yes, a sound
plan.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                 Welcome Home
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
                                        
Kurt had been born in a very poor village to very poor, very wholesome,
parents. He was coddled and adored by his mother and father until the age of
seven, when disaster struck the Hummel home. Elizabeth died in childbed with
their second child. Burt was inconsolable and his health ailed. Kurt tried to
be helpful to his Father during this awful time as they both mourned, but near
the yule holidays of Kurt's tenth year, Burt found his peace at the bottom of a
cliff just outside their town. Kurt was moved to an orphanage where his fate
would be decided. Would he go on to be trained as a pleasure slave, or would he
be sent to the mines. He was slim and delicate, which made him an ideal fit for
the coal mines, but he also had lovely porcelain skin and eyes that defied
color ranking, and his light, lyrical voice was likened to an angel singing, so
the decision was made to send him to train as a pleasure slave.
The training center reminded Kurt more of a farm than a school. Here the pupils
were stripped naked and forced to crawl around in the dirt, being trained to
sit for hours at a time at heel, and having their bowels stretched to fit
ungodly sized objects inside them. They were regularly flushed, but quickly
were trained to eat very little, subsiding on mainly a liquid diet so that
they're cleaning rituals were simpler every day, that their orifices would be
more often available to their eventual owners.
At age 15, he was moved from the farm to a 'campus' in the city. Here he was
trained to kneel on hard marble floors, crawling to do menial tasks, using his
mouth rather than his hands to do things such as dress and undress his Master
or Mistress. They also tested for preference, because a slave was expected to
be aroused at all times for their owner's pleasure. The students were placed in
situations in which they might find themselves aroused and were monitored to
see how their bodies reacted to certain stimuli.
Once the orientation of each subject was decided, they were given 'lessons' on
maintaining an erection and stiff nipples. If they're breasts weren't as
tender, they were massaged and treated each day, sometimes multiple times a
day, to gain sensitivity in the skin, and the same rang true for the boys with
their erections. There was a boy in Kurt's group who had trouble keeping his
penis stiff for any length of time, so he the others in his class would take
turns sucking him and rubbing a finger in his asshole against his prostate
whenever he'd start to go limp. They were not allowed to orgasm, and would
often be adorned with a cock ring, and at night would be dressed in a cock
cage. The cage had a pin that was pressed into the tip of the penis opening and
cupped around, preventing erection from occurring. The girls would wear a
chastity belt during the nights, as well as metal cage bras. There were
occasional 'incidents' where these steps were less effective, and the students
effected would have to sleep in restraints so that they couldn't stimulate
themselves in their sleep.
At around sixteen, they were introduced to gags, being trained to wear one at
all times, and learning how to breathe around different types, and how to hold
your breath when your airway was blocked off, trying to prevent loss of
consciousness. They were each fitted with a different sized and shaped gag that
they would sleep with at night. Brittany, for instance, slept with a large
breast shaped gag in her mouth, and Finn had his mouth filled with a labia/
clitoris/mons shaped gag that covered half his face. Kurt, on the other hand,
was fitted with a large penis shaped gag. His gag reflex was weak, nearly non
existent, actually, so he would sleep with a nine inch penis gag in his mouth.
It wasn't very wide around, so he was able to breathe through his nose.
At seventeen years old, Kurt was removed to a pre-sale facility where finishing
touches were made, fine arts (of the sexual variety), were honed, and slaves
had their physical appearance adjusted. Haircuts, piercings, makeup tattoos
were all a part of this particular step. Kurt was marked with kohl tattoos over
his lids, giving him a smudged eyeliner look, which made his creamy paleness
look even more exotic. Sam received nipple piercings and a tongue ring.
Brittany had her clitoris pierced and her long hair cut short. Finn, on the
other hand, was left unmarked.
The week before they 'graduated' the system, ready to be sold, they were
offered to members of the school board as part of their final training.
Brittany was chosen by a man named Puckerman, while Finn was sent home with a
woman named Holladay, and Sam was collected by a woman named Pillsbury. Kurt,
on the other hand, was loaned to the school board president's son, Smythe.
During his days with the Smythe son, he was publicly humiliated and forced to
service a group of ten teenage boys within an hour. He was also made to present
his asshole at all times, and was denied food if he 'misbehaved', but could
earn his meals back by allowing the Smythe to fuck his throat until he passed
out. When he was returned to the school at the end of the week, Smythe was
praised for his ability to 'hone' the inches off of the slave, making him a
slimmer, more sleek prize for the purchasers.
When it came time for the very first auction, Kurt was presented last. He was
worried that all the money would be spent and nobody would have a place for
him, and he'd end up working on a farm or in a mine either way, but once his
presentation was complete, after he'd taken a mold of a fist up to a forearm up
his ass, and a twelve inch cock gag in his mouth, all while doing a handstand,
Kurt was moved to his knees,and pulled along, as he'd apparently been
purchased. He was so relieved, but his mind was still muzzy from lack of oxygen
and having spent so much time on his head, that he was having trouble
comprehending the commands he was receiving.
He came to when large gloved hands lifted his face and a low, gruff voice gave
him direct orders as he swayed on the floor of a moving coach he didn't recall
climbing into, and he shivered from the biting cold of the season, determined
to earn the covering this new Master offered. He would be his best, for he
swore he wouldn't die in the mines.
That didn't mean that he wanted this to be his life forever, though. He simply
had to make it through his five years as a pleasure slave, then convince his
owner to free him. He was desperate for the future he'd always dreamed of, so
he put all his effort and determination into this thing, into learning the arts
of physical pleasure and submission, even as he kept his own mind hidden on the
inside. Submitting didn't come naturally to him, but the options available to
him, to become a grunt and die young, or to become a toy for a rich patron for
a handful of years, made it a simpler decision, as did his ability to separate
his mind from what was happening in the physical.
When he was loaned to the Smythe, he had to hold onto his dreams of being a
performer in the city one day, maybe Paris, so that he could get through the
mindless degradation. The constant pressure and dehumanization of his very
person was exhausting, so he often would remove himself from what was going on.
This was a role that needed playing for the here and now, and he couldn't
possibly allow anyone to see past it. He couldn't break character and ruin
everything, his whole life was riding on this performance.
And so he found himself, halfway propped on his knees, halfway lying in his new
Master's lap, sleeping with a different type of gag, but entirely warm and
comfortable while wrapped in his robes. As he came to, he felt himself being
lifted into strong arms and pulled more fully into the embrace of the long
folds of fabric. He clung to the impressive shoulders against him, still unable
to see inside the hood, but avoiding any attempt at eye contact, because
without permission, that could mean punishment, and punishment could mean very
different things to different masters. He just hoped that he hadn't been sold
to someone with a penchant for breaking bones. Maybe just tears. Kurt knew he
could produce very attractive tears, and wished fervently that this large
nobleman preferred tears to bloodletting.
He was carried into a large stone building. The door was narrow, so it couldn't
be the main entrance. Down three flights of stairs and into a dungeon type
area. Down a hall and past several torches set into brackets on the walls. The
strength of his owner was impressive, as he never slowed down, and he never
felt his body droop in the strong, massive arms.
Eventually they reached a large wooden door with guards standing on either
side. At a motion of the shrouded head, they both moved in tandem to open the
door, bowing their heads as the duo moved past and into the space. He was set
on his feet, then at the pressure of a gloved hand on his shoulder, went to his
knees, eyes on the clean swept stone floor beneath him.
"There's a pot in the corner for you to relieve yourself. Do so now, but don't
gain your feet. When you're finished, return, and we'll get on with today's
plans."
Kurt followed the pointed direction to the correct corner of the room, avoiding
looking at the wicked looking furnishings of the space. Leather covered wood,
chains and ropes neatly coiled and draped here and there, the walls adorned
with various whips and paddles, the occasional blade. He made it to the basin
in the corner, leaning up on his knees to aim his urine, making sure not to
make a mess. Once he was finished, he returned to his hands and knees and
crawled back to where he could see large boots, though the draping fabric was
missing. Those boots came closer, and he felt a length of soft fabric being
wrapped over his eyes and tied behind his head. Without the sense of sight, he
felt ever so much more vulnerable and was newly reminded that this particular
role wasn't on a stage, but was very much real and his performance would decide
his fate. He held back a whimper as his body was lifted, seemingly without
effort, and situated over what felt like a padded workbench, and his feet were
secured to the legs, spread wide, and his hands were pulled down to meet them,
and secured as well. Everything seemed heightened without the benefit of sight,
even just enough to see where his owner was at the moment, so when he felt
rough hands on his skin, now free of the leather gloves, he was shocked into
making a small noise.
"Oh, so your vocal chords aren't cut, then. I wondered." The hands moved from
his lower back and down over his ass, sliding slowly, the calloused skin
chafing on the smooth, unmarred skin of his ass as they moved down, spreading
his cheeks wide apart. "Most of the time I'll expect silence from you, but on
occasion, I'll allow you to be vocal. Today is one of those days. No words, but
you won't incur any extra punishment for screaming out if the pain becomes too
much. Nod if you understand." Kurt nodded, feeling ever more nervous. He
disliked pain, but he'd been tossed around by the boys in his home village
enough that he hoped he'd be able to endure this. No, he would endure this. His
future happiness depended on it. He braced himself, but couldn't hold in a
shout when the end of a crop came down on the most tender parts of him, just
between his ass cheeks. The small smacks rained down from the top of his crack,
all the way to just behind his balls where they were hanging below him.
Nervousness made him still, as he didn't want to direct the pain any closer to
his most sensitive parts. He counted the blows, hoping it would help keep his
mind from dwelling on the pain. At forty, they stopped, and he could hear boot
clad feet walking around so they were below his head. He could hear something
being set down, and a swish through the air as the next tool was brought down,
this time against his back. A dozen sharp points of contact, as the individual
knots at the ends of the whip all struck across his exposed flesh. Suddenly the
deep voice pulled him from his counting, bringing him back to the place where
pain was real and slavery was life, not pretend.
"Your should be proud, Mutt. Your skin colors very well under my whip. Perhaps
one day I'll whip you in front of a looking glass so you might see the way your
skin responds to me. Until then you can just feel it. I changed my mind. I want
you screaming. And if you do that for me, we can avoid using the other whip,
the one with blades at the end. I'd hate to mar this perfect back. And then if
you please me, I'll let you suck me after I fuck your talented little asshole,
hmmm? Now. Go."
The whip suddenly fell harder, and from closer to him. He couldn't have held in
the screams that left him if he'd tried. He wanted to keep count, but the
overwhelming fire spreading across his skin kept his focus as he bellowed out
high pitched yells and shuddering whimpers. After a while, the whip moved down
so it was laving across his ass and thighs, then on down to his legs,
eventually even coming down to flay against the soles of his feet. Back up it
went, the only time it slowed was when a rough hand would move between his
thighs to grope his dick, stroking it to keep it hard during the whole session.
Occasionally he'd feel those fingers grip and knead at his balls before
slipping back to press against his sore, abused asshole. Then the hand would be
gone and the pain would intensify against his back, then his shoulders. He
cried out, concentrating on making noise to avoid the other promised whip.
After some unnameable time, the blows stopped, but Kurt couldn't bring himself
to stop whimpering and moaning. It felt like his whole body was on fire, and
the smallest touch would set him aflame. His feet were loosened in their bonds,
just enough to allow them to be shoved further apart, then he felt lubricated
fingers pressing against his anus. He sighed and felt the tears falling from
his eyes, only to be absorbed by the blindfold. At least he wasn't going to
take him dry, and that was certainly something to be thankful for. He felt the
burning stretch, but it was so familiar that his body seemed to accommodate him
without any conscious effort on Kurt's part. His owner soon had three fingers
pistoning in and out of his hole, spreading lubrication before being pulled
away roughly. Kurt thought to brace himself, but didn't have the strength to do
so instead just hung there over the bench as he felt himself being penetrated
from behind, the coarse, hard material of the man's clothes rubbing into abused
flesh of his ass and thighs as he thrust in and out. It felt like he was
purposely aiming away from Kurt's prostate with his thrusts, which Kurt was
grateful for, as he felt so out of control anyway. He couldn't even hear his
own pathetic moaning anymore, he was so lost to the sensation of leather
against his ass, and pain tingling all along the nerves of his punished skin.
Kurt didn't know how long he was thrusting, but after what could have been five
minutes, but could have been five hours, his owner became more rough and
irregular in his thrusts, finally coming into Kurt's ass. He pulled out
carefully, and Kurt wondered why, until he felt a plug being inserted into his
anus to hold the cum inside him. "That'll keep you lubed for next time." Came a
gruff mutter from behind him. He could feel his restraints being removed
entirely and his body being lifted and carried to a soft surface. He was placed
face down in the center of what he felt to be a bed of some sort. He was
confused, as it was much finer quality than he'd ever been allowed to sleep on.
His confusion departed when he was shifted and could feel his new owner
arranging himself in the bed with him, so that Kurt was apparently lying on his
stomach face down between his legs. It was very similar to the coach ride, but
this time the cock being pressed to his lips smelled of soap, which he was
grateful for, as it had just recently been buried in his ass. He moaned against
it the soft penis was pressed between his lips again. He felt such deja vu, but
opened quickly, swallowing down over the tender flesh.
"You'll make me hard and then make me come, Mutt, and then you'll be allowed
rest." Kurt bit back a whimper, but leaned forward until his nose met the hair
covered flesh of his owner's pubic bone. He was much smaller when soft, but the
sooner he was full and heavy in Kurt's mouth, the sooner he would come, and
Kurt could sleep. So he did his very best, swirling his tongue and pulling back
to mouth at his balls, being pulled back up and onto the still half soft cock.
He ended up just gently suckling it for a good twenty minutes before he was
able to bring the exhausted penis to full erection. His jaw was sore, his mouth
dripping saliva, and his neck quite pained, but he kept at it until suddenly
his face was pulled back and he could feel long spurts of sperm coating his
face and chin, painting his lips and cheeks. When his owner was finished, he
could feel the thick liquid being spread over his face and rubbed in. He was
then directed back down and over the once again softened cock to pull it into
his mouth. "Alright. Well done. Now sleep, slave. But don't let that cock slip
past your lips, even in slumber, or there will be punishment later." Kurt was
just nodding off, mouth comfortingly full of cock when he felt a soft sheet
being pulled over his back and legs. He hummed a little, and felt a soft caress
on his hair that he was sure he must've made up in his mind, but it was too
much to think about, and he was soon asleep.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                                        
                                        
                                 Good Morning
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
 
 
Sir David felt fuzzy, and stilled himself and tried to place what had woken him
prematurely. There was no undue noise, especially so far underneath the keep as
they were, he could see that he'd fallen asleep in the dungeon. He was suddenly
brought to full consciousness by the soft wet sensation on his dick. He glanced
down, taking in the slave currently draped over one of his legs, it's mouth
pulling tenderly on David's half hard cock. He tilted his head to see better,
realizing that the blindfold had slipped off at some point, but the slave
appeared to be sleeping soundly, breathing steadily through it's nose against
David's groin, seemingly unaware of the movement of his lips and tongue. Sir
David couldn't help but smile at the sight the toy made.
His dick was becoming uncomfortable with the positioning as it hardened fully.
He gently pulled the new pet off of his cock, face softening at the small sound
of protest that it emitted. He pulled at it by the shoulders, rearranging it so
that the slim thing was on it's back next to him on the mattress. He knew that
it would be in a panic when it realized that it had lost his cock, and so
determined to wake his pet up with another sensation. He climbed from the bed
to find the pot of cream he'd used the night before when he'd fucked his pet.
He gently placed a pillow below Mutt's hips and softly pulled the plug out of
his backside. He added more lubrication to his fingers, using it and what
remained of his come to prepare the toy for his dick.
Mutt moaned and whimpered at the sensation, and it's cock started to fill.
David noted that it was quite a pretty cock, all pale skin and flushed pink and
red just at the tip. He leaned down and gave a small lick to the head, unable
to help himself. It looked quite appealing. He leaned up and replaced his
fingers with his cock, pulling slim but firm legs up and over his shoulders,
being careful not to wake Mutt too early. He wanted to give him a true welcome
home awakening, and so he used his slick fist to grip onto the pretty cock
between their bellies. His thrusts were slow and steady, and he marveled at how
deeply Mutt was asleep that he was able to sleep through so much.
Those soft lips that had proved such a welcoming haven for his cock suddenly
looked far too tempting. He held off for a moment, before realizing that he
owned this creature, and had every right to use every bit of him. His father
might not have approved of kissing a slave, but that old bastard was long gone,
so Sir David shamelessly leaned forward, bending the slave in half and bringing
his mouth down to taste those spread, plump, pink lips. They tasted musky of
come, and vaguely of sleep, but his own did as well, so he was unbothered by
it. He ran his tongue inside, enjoying the feel of teeth and tongue, realizing
just how much he'd missed kissing in the years since he'd been cursed. He
sucked a firm lip between his own, gnawing gently and laving with his tongue.
His thrusts grew marginally faster as he slid his free hand up behind Mutt's
neck, leaning his weight on the forearm while his other fist was still occupied
with pumping slowly over his slave's pretty cock.
Enough, he decided. He wanted cooperation and he wanted it now. He gripped
tighter around the penis in his grasp, pulling his own almost all the way out
of Mutt's ass, then pushing in roughly, moaning into it's mouth and pulling
away to bite down harshly on it's collarbone, surely leaving marks, but not
breaking the skin.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
When Kurt became aware of his surroundings, it was to realize he was being
thoroughly fucked in his ass, and his mouth felt abused, but his whole body
felt surrounded. Warm musk and male flesh were all around him. It took him a
moment to realize that his blindfold was missing. He was nervous to look around
him, but was still so close to sleep that he couldn't quite censor himself. He
felt a particularly swift pull on his hard cock and had to tightly pull his
breath in in an attempt to control the impulse to come. It was tightly
ingrained into the slaves that they were never to come, unless instructed.
There was a sudden pain on his collarbones as his owner bit down there, and the
sensitive nerve endings were aflame. The combined sensations of being
penetrated, having his cock stroked, and being sucked and bitten at on his neck
and shoulders were intense, but added to that was the constant scratching rub
of his raw back against the bedding, and the abrasion of his owner's body hair
against his legs where they were pulled up to his chest. He wasn't sure he'd be
able to hold himself still and content much longer. He wasn't sure what would
happen. Would he explode like his Master did, with fluid coming out? He didn't
know, had never seen a slave orgasm, and had certainly never experienced it
himself. Another hard thrust brought Kurt out of his contemplation, and a wail
left him, and his hands scrabbled on the blanket beneath him and his eyes
slammed shut as his breath shuddered. Just as he was sure he was about to earn
a punishment by losing control, that low scratchy voice was rumbling by his
ear, ordering him to come, and so he did.
His vision went white behind his eyelids, red spots appearing, and he could
feel every nerve ending in his body aflame, from his toes and down to his
center, from his fingers, and to the tips of his ears, every bit of him was
alive, like he'd been hit by a strike of lightening. It lasted for a long
stretch of time, and eventually he came back to himself, finding that his legs
had been pulled down and situated around his Master's hips.
His Master, who was still rocking back and forth shallowly inside him, very
much still erect, but watching Kurt's features clear from the sheer bliss of a
moment before. "Good pet. That was very good." Kurt glanced up without thought
and caught his first glimpse of his owner's features. He gasped at the golden
tone of his sharp eyes, the full cheeks covered in a beard, all but the thick
scars that gnarled from his forehead and down across his whole face, marring
his features with the pink twisted flesh that refused to sprout hair. Those
eyes watched him, as if waiting for a reaction.
Kurt steeled himself and lowered his eyes again, murmuring a quiet "Thank you,
Master". The sound seemed to bring his owner back to himself, as his thrusting
was renewed, but it took fewer than a dozen thrusts before he was groaning and
burying his face into Kurt's neck as he came.
 
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                   Bath Time
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
                                        
Kurt wasn't sure what to do, so he lie there as still as possible as his owner
recovered from his own orgasm. Eventually the large frame shifted up and off of
him, moving slowly and carefully, his legs seeming unsteady beneath him. He
stood at the edge of the bed, looking down on Kurt, who kept his eyes on the
opposite wall meekly, keeping as still as possible under his owner's perusal.
After a few minutes of this searching look, his owner turned towards the door,
re-fastening the pants he still wore, but not bothering to fetch the shirt he'd
left near the leather covered bench the night before.
 
"Follow. On your knees, Mutt." was tossed over his shoulder, and Kurt scrambled
to obey, hitting the rough stone and following his owner into the hall and down
for an undetermined length of time, and down another flight of stairs, which
he'd hand to turn and scoot down backwards on his knees awkwardly, but had kept
to his orders.
Eventually they reached another doorway that his owner held open for him as he
scrabbled inside on his now raw hands and knees. He could hear a trickling
sound of water, and the air was humid here, in a way it hadn't been in the
dungeon room. He glanced forward and stopped his progress when he saw that he
was a few feet from a small pond that seemed to sprout from the very ground,
carved from the stone that the estate was built upon. Kurt wondered what this
place was doing so far below the keep, but kept silent, with his eyes on the
ground.
"This is a natural spring. Hot water brought forth from the earth. Much easier
than having the servants prepare a bath for a slave, and you are quite filthy,
so you and I will wash in this water before you're taken to your new place in
my chambers. Understood?"
Kurt nodded at the floor, not bringing his eyes up.
"I've got some questions for you, Mutt. You have my permission to answer if you
are able. Are you able to speak?"
"Yes, Master." Kurt was careful not to say too many words, or to fidget under
his owner's scrutiny.
"Well, now that you've been welcomed to the estate, there's some information
you'd benefit from. My name is Sir David, and one day I stand to inherit the
crown if certain things come to fruition. I am master of this estate, and am
Supreme Lord as far as you are concerned."
Kurt felt those strong arms that were becoming familiar lifting him from his
spot on the ground. He scrambled to keep his balance, but was calmed by a
murmured hushing noise from above him. He held tight to his own upper arms as
his owner stepped into the water, taking Kurt with him. He must have finished
disrobing while he spoke before, but Kurt had been so distracted by the words
that he hadn't noticed. There was a ledge on the towards one side, and Master
deposited him on it, moving back to the edge to find a bar of soap. Kurt
glanced up at his owner and saw him using a small piece of towel to gather suds
from the soap. He looked back down, his face a mask of humility and spoke
quietly. "Master may I as a question?"
"Hmmm? I suppose."
"May I wash you?" Kurt felt himself cringe from the forwardness of the
question, but even now he wouldn't have taken it back. Now that his owner was
without clothes, Kurt had glimpsed the broadness of his shoulders, the sheer
mass of his arms and waist, and the soft layer of flesh over his muscles. There
was hair seeming to cover him everywhere, but Kurt wanted desperately to have
his hands on him, even if only with a cloth. He waited, and could almost hear
his Master thinking it over.
"Very presumptuous, Mutt. I don't know how I feel about that. Look at me." Kurt
glanced up at him, moving his eyes so they were locked on Sir David's forehead.
"No. Look at all of me. Take a good look."
Kurt eagerly looked him over, gathering in details of his form, lingering on
his wide shoulders and thick arms. His mouth began to water in earnest, and he
had to swallow or risk it spilling down his chin.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
Sir David watched as his new toy was allowed to look his fill. He found himself
in shock, and suddenly very very interested in what was causing that
swallowing. Nervousness? Fear? Desire? Gods, he hoped it was the latter. It had
been so long since anyone or anything found him attractive, and fucking scared
little shits got old quickly. The pet had been willing, even eager, enough last
night and this morning, but he hadn't had a chance to really look at his new
owner yet at that point.
He noticed the gold and blue eyes growing wide as they focused on his arms and
shoulders. He flexed his muscles, wanting to see what reaction he'd get. The
eyes grew impossibly round and he noted how Mutt's nipples had hardened, and
wondered at the state of his cock beneath the water. Usually every morning he'd
use one of the house slaves if he didn't have a pleasure slave around, then in
the evening, if he wasn't too taxed, he'd do the same. It had been a very long
time since he'd felt this kind of interest in a single being, slave or human.
Ever since he'd seen this creature led out and put on display the day before,
he'd had an almost constant erection, and all for this slave boy. He tilted his
head as he regarded it, all pale skin and flushed cheeks. He wondered at the
state of it's back after last night's welcome home beating. Thinking about it,
he felt his own cock harden further, enjoying the memory of how this slight
little thing had stayed hard for him as he abused that tender flesh, reddening
it so prettily.
"Come." It was harsh, and quite obviously an order.
Kurt came to his feet, the water hitting him at his waist as he crossed to
stand in front of Sir David, keeping his eyes lowered in respect.
"Turn. I'll wash you first. I must know the status of your back, as I plan on
keeping you sore and used for the time being. Whipped flesh is more sensitive
to the touch, and I want you to feel me always. Now step forward onto the
ledge, so I might clean you between your legs, Mutt." He used the soapy cloth
to wash every bit of the toy's body, especially the area around it's anus, and
the tracks of cum that had started to dry as they trailed down it's thighs from
it's hole. "Answer honestly and quickly, Mutt. Simple answers are best.
Understood?" He stilled his hands, waiting until he had a nod. He washed down
each of it's legs, noting each flinch as he hit a particularly sore spot, and
each shiver as he found ticklish points. "Did you have a name before you came
to belong to me?"
"Kurt, Sir."
"Kurt? Tis an odd name. Do you know why your owner named you thus?"He turned
Mutt towards him, washing his chest and belly.
"Twas my parents, Sir. My Grandfather's name was Kurt and my Mother missed
him."
David stopped washing altogether at the mention of parents. Typically, slaves
were born as such, and were removed from their homes at quite a young age, and
would have no memory of they're mother or father. "You were born a free man?"
Shock tinged his words.
"Yes, Sir."
"How did you then come to be a slave, Mutt?" He watched closely and was oddly
shaken when he saw tears leaking down it's cheeks. A small sniff came, and then
he could see it stiffening it's neck, could almost hear it's resolve hardening.
What a remarkable little creature.
"My Mother died in childbed with my younger brother, and we lost them both, and
my Father couldn't survive the heartbreak of losing them. My Father's family
said it was a curse, or God's will, and refused me shelter, but sent me to the
training houses."
"And the tears? Are they for your Mother or for yourself?" He reached down to
grip Mutt's chin, lifting it so he could see into his eyes, his hands wiping
suds onto the skin he touched. "Do you weep for your lost family or your lost
future?"
Kurt couldn't help but get lost in the deep golden green of Sir David's eyes,
and answered him simply. "I weep for broken hearts, Sir. My fate is what it is,
and there's no changing it here and now. Perhaps one day once I've reached my
tenure though, my fate might change."
"Oh? And what changes would you make to your future? What would you do with
freedom, pet?" He used the cloth to start wiping at Mutt's neck and shoulders,
keeping his face tilted up, the better to read his expressions.
"I would like to perform one day, but what I wish from freedom, Sir, is to be
free."
David could see the green and brown and yellow bits in Mutt's eyes grow
brighter as they traced the gouges in his face. He wondered if Mutt even
realized what he was doing. "Well, before that happens, you have to be set
free, and for that, you must survive your time here well. Misbehaving and
attempting to run away add years to your indenture, so nothing is certain. Lift
your arms."
Mutt's arms go up, and David moves to wash them, and the sensitive skin beneath
them. Perhaps he'll use the crop on him here, he thinks. But then he'd have to
be careful about his ribs, so maybe not the crop. Aaahh... He has a cat o' nine
made of burlap rather than leather that might be just right for that. He'd hate
to accidentally break something irreparable on this slave and have to start
over, especially since he sees so much potential in this one. He finishes up
washing the slave and it's time to rinse it off. "Take a deep breath, Mutt,
then kneel to rinse, but don't stand up. I'll lift you up when it's time."
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
Kurt's eyes get wide at this pronouncement, but he does as he's told, pulling
in a deep breath, but is still surprised when Sir David's hand comes up to
pinch his nose shut, also wrapping over his mouth and guiding him down until
he's below the surface of the water, resting on his knees. Kurt can feel the
movement of the water as it naturally moves from where it enters on one side of
the cave/room and moves to the water's exit on the other side, and after a few
moments he's sure that he's clean, but Sir David is still holding him under.
Soon his chest starts to hurt from lack of air, and he can't control his body's
natural urge to surface, but still his owner holds him immobile under the
water. Kurt's entire body feels like it's on fire, and his throat seems about
to explode, and he starts to panic.
Finally, when he's sure he's about to pass out from lack of air, he's pulled
free and his mouth and nose are released. Sir David pulls him to his chest as
he gasps and shudders against him. Kurt's hands come up to grip at his waist,
pulling himself tight to his Master, holding on as if for dear life. "Thank
you, Sir." are the words that leave his lips.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
"For what, pet?" David is shocked, not only by Mutt's physical reaction of
clinging to him, but also the pronouncement.
"For allowing me to live, Sir. Thank you, Sir." It was panted against the hair
on his chest. Mutt was still pulling in large lungfuls of air, pulling
unconsciously with his hands, trying to get closer to his owner. "I know that
Master has the right to end my life, and I'm very grateful that you haven't
chosen to do so, Sir."
"Would you still be so grateful if you knew that I still have plans to take you
back to my dungeon and abuse this pretty skin some more this day, and for every
day that follows? Or would you wish to end your own life like your Father
obviously did?" David can feel Mutt stiffen against him, but tells himself that
he should not feel any guilt. Mutt is a slave, and so is below insult. He waits
for it's answer, though.
"Sir, I... Well, I was left heartbroken after my Father did what he had to, but
if I were to do that to myself, it would prove my Aunt correct, and I couldn't
allow that. Not if I can help it. And I belong to you, so if Master wants to
beat me then I have no place to refuse."
David tilted his head to the side, wonderingly. He mentally shrugged, and
decided to leave the confusion for a later time. He sighed and reached for the
soap and the cloth, removing Mutt from his person to hand over the cleaning
supplies. "Alright, Pet. My turn, wash me."
As Mutt started running the cloth over his chest and shoulders, he watched the
movement of it's features. When the cloth came up to wash his admittedly
impressive biceps Mutt betrayed himself by allowing a bit of saliva to slide
down to his chin. It's chin. No, he couldn't allow himself to start thinking of
the slave as a person. Slaves weren't people, they were things. But Mutt had
said that he was born a freeman. A freeman with a name. So maybe he was a
person, but he was still a slave. His slave.
David looked back up at Mutt's face as he quickly wiped at his chin with the
back of one hand, his cheeks turning bright in embarrassment. He felt himself
start to grin. Perhaps Mutt was a he, and not an it, but he still belonged to
David, and David planned to keep it- No. him- for as long as he could.
As Mutt cleaned down David's legs and to his feet, David wondered if this
really could be the slave boy who would end the curse, or if he was getting
himself further into the whole mess. Well, soon enough they'd find out, and it
would be decided either way.
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                    Naptime
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
                                        
When they arrived back at the dungeon, Sir David looked at the restraints
available to him, trying to decide which he would use to hold his slave captive
for this particular session, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. He
called out for the interrupter to enter, and could immediately smell warm
bread, hot cider, and meat. He inhaled deeply, and turned, moving to the table
near the fireplace. It was small, just one chair, but there was a ledge on
which to situate his slave during mealtimes. He urged his pet up and into
position, taking care that it wouldn't fall and hurt itself. He then dismissed
the servant who'd brought the food, taking his seat.
The first bite was glorious. He paid well for his chef, and it showed. The lamb
melted on his tongue, and he took a swallow of the sharp cider to wash it down.
There was a small rumble from the ledge, and he had to bite back a laugh when
he realized that the slave's belly had made noise. He broke off bits of his
meal, feeding it to the pet intermittently while he ate. He held his cup to
it's lips so it could have a drink, not wanting to deal with an ill slave if he
suffered malnutrition. When the food was all gone,
David helped Kurt down from the ledge, and directed him over to the Saint
Andrew's Cross, securing his limbs, but not reaching for any instruments. He
let the hinge on the back of the contraption loose, leaning the cross back at
an angle, fetching a sheet from the pallet in the corner to drape over the
slave's figure, tucking it in securely. "Sleep, pet. I don't want to make you
sick by working you over too soon after your meal, and I'm rather tired myself,
so I've decided we'll have a rest first. Just relax."
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
Sir David dozed for perhaps an hour before he came awake to the soft sound of
whimpering. He walked to where he had Mutt secured, and took a moment to enjoy
the view. His legs were spread, and his torso was secured, but his arms had
been lifted and bent, so he was holding his own elbows above his head. His face
was turned so that his mouth was pressed to his arm, and he was sucking at his
muscle there, rooting as would an infant.
David watched him and compared this to how soundly he'd slept with his mouth
full earlier, and decided to test his theory. He stepped closer to the pet, and
gently detached his mouth from where he had started to give himself a hickey,
and pressed two fingers into his mouth. When the pet started sucking hungrily,
and the distressed noises stopped, David couldn't help but smile softly at him.
He began to rock his fingers in and out, feeling his cock harden at the
desperate way the toy seemed to want his fingers to fill his mouth.
He decided to take the opportunity for release that was presented. He looked
around and found a small anal plug lying in a pile of implements, and replaced
his fingers with it, then moving around the cross to the hinge, slowly lowering
it until Mutt was lying tilted backwards, with his head down towards the floor
in a gentle slope, pulling off the sheet and discarding it on the bed.
David undid the closure on his pants, withdrawing his stiff penis, and hooking
a knee up on the contraption to brace himself. He leaned forward and angled
himself just right so that he slid into Mutt's mouth smoothly, sucking in a
breath at the lovely suction that the slave applied instinctively. He started
to thrust shallowly, not wanting to harm the slave unduly while he was
sleeping. As he rocked himself, he noticed that the toy's own prick was
starting to stiffen, and as it grew, it drew his attention. David gauged the
distance and the angle and decided it was worth a try, so he leaned forward,
taking the tip into his mouth, and applying a harder suction than Mutt had,
bobbing his head, having to concentrate so that he didn't suffocate the slave.
He was content to rock there back and forth, gently working himself in his
slave's warm cavern, as he also paid delicious attention to the pet's own
erection, and at one point he pulled off long enough to slick a finger in his
spit and pressing into his slave's hole, and reaching in to find it's prostate.
It was at this point that he felt a humming moan around his cock and realized
that he must have woken his pet with the penetration.
The humming continued as he pumped his finger in and out, in rhythm along with
his cock, and his own head bobbing on the toy's cock. It only took moments, it
seemed, for David to reach orgasm, and as the slave swallowed down his come, he
felt him coming as well. David didn't swallow, though, letting it rest in his
mouth as he removed his body, then leaning down to attach his mouth to Mutt's,
transferring the come into the slave's mouth, and feeling the shaking of the
slim body as he sucked his own spunk off of Sir David's tongue.
"I didn't realize you'd have such trouble sleeping without a gag, human or
otherwise, pet. From now on, I'll see that that doesn't happen again." David
closed his pants again, tucking himself inside, and moved to settle the cross
back into it's upright position. "Are there any other orifices that you are
used to having filled while you sleep, pet? You have my permission to answer."
Kurt swallowed reflexively, unused to being asked about his own comfort. He
cleared his throat a little around the coating of seed in his mouth and throat.
"My arse, Sir."
David had figured as much, but wanted to hear more. He reached for a softer,
suede whip. This one was for warming skin, not marking it, and he didn't want
any broken bones or skin. "Elaborate, slave. What was kept in your anus? How
large was it, and the same for your mouth? Try to ignore the strokes of the
whip as you answer." He started laying stripes on the pale skin, starting from
his legs, and slowly moving up.
Kurt wanted to cry out at the sting, but had been ordered to ignore the
sensation, so he did as commanded and concentrated on replying to the questions
put to him. "I was filled nightly with a dildo, Sir, the width of my wrist, and
half the length of my forearm, Sir. My mouth had a gag shaped as a penis, the
width of your whip handle, and twice the length of my thumb, Sir." He wasn't
thinking about the leather striking his skin, and he realized that there was a
buzzing warmth coming from his skin, where before, if he thought about the
pain, it could consume him. Now he only felt a tingle.
"And do you miss them, Mutt? Your fillers? Which do you prefer, your gag, or my
cock? Answer honestly, pet." The strokes moved up, now at the slave's upper
thighs and hips, wrapping over his soft dick, and leaving red stripes, but not
doing actual harm.
"No, Sir. Sometimes my ass feels empty, Sir, but it's not uncomfortably so. And
I prefer your cock, Sir. My gag was cold and hard, and I much prefer your warm
flesh, honestly, Sir, and I confess that I did miss it when you ordered me to
nap earlier." He hung his head as much as he was able in his position, feeling
shamed by the confession. He didn't want to require more than his Master was
willing to give him, but he had asked for honesty.
Sir David was gratified by the slave's answer, warming at the thought that he
wouldn't require the tempering that David had needed with the others, and
already was showing so much progress. He moved the whip higher, now using it to
heighten the nerves in the pet's stomach and chest area. "Does it arouse you to
have me inside your mouth as you sleep? Would you prefer to have your arse
filled as you rest?"
Kurt was determined to obey, and not react to the gentle punishment of his
flesh, but it was like a slow burn working it's way up his body. He took a deep
breath, but that only served to bring his chest ever closer to the whip. He
lowered his eyes, letting them shut as he spoke, too embarrassed to look at his
owner. "Yes, Sir. It arouses me when your cock sleeps in my mouth. And I do
feel restless with my ass empty, Sir, and if Sir wishes it, this slave would
prefer to be filled during sleeping times."
David was becoming aroused again at the slave's words, also watching the way
his skin turned from pink to red under his ministrations. He could see that it
was having a similar effect on the pet, as his cock slowly filled. David
reached forward to stroke him there, pulling upward, and holding him tightly.
He let go after a few moments, letting the now fully hard cock bounce on the
toy's red stomach, loving the small hiss that the slave couldn't hold in. He
stood back, surveying his work and deeming it time to move on.
David reached into a pile, pulling out something that looked like a fencing
mask, and pressed it onto Kurt's face, then standing back and using the suede
whip to color Kurt's exposed arms and underarms. "Silence, pet. Now I just want
you to imagine that the whip is my hands and mouth gently touching your skin.
Let it stroke you, but don't make a sound."
David worked the pet over, coloring his arms, and moving back down his figure,
covering him until every inch was blooming red and he could hear puffing
breaths coming from inside the mask. The mask was only really there for the
toy's protection, as his arms were wrapped over his face,but David had to admit
that he liked the image presented, of the nude, abused body, displayed but
without a face, taking the person out of it.
David leaned forward, pressing his lips to the metal grating over where Mutt's
ear would be. "Now I'm going to switch implements, pet. This one will be more
like the whip I used on your back yesterday, only this time, I don't want you
to cry out in pain. I want you to let the sensation of touch and tingling wash
over you. I want you to let it move you from this place an up into the next
plane. If you allow it, the physical pain will transport you, and you will feel
a sort of pleasure and peace that you have only dreamed of. I want you to see
that place, pet. Now, I want you to close your eyes, and let yourself feel
this, let me send you to that place. Nod if you understand."
Kurt nodded, not entirely understanding what his owner meant, but wanting to
please him, and turning over his words in his head. He felt something being
wrapped around his hips and secured, and his cock and balls being tucked inside
a hard shell before he heard the leather singing through the air and then felt
the strike of it on his skin. He wanted to concentrate on it, and count them
out in his mind like he normally would, but more than that, he wanted to find
this mystical place that Sir David spoke of, and so he forced himself to think
of the way his flesh felt just under the skin that was burning.
David watched the form in front ofhim tighten and tense with each stroke, and
could tell that the slave was concentrating too hard, and would have trouble
finding it, and after about forty strokes, he lost his patience, dropping his
whip and reaching forward and unhooking the protection he'd wrapped over Mutt's
hips and genitals, unhooking his legs and arms, pulling off the mask, and
dragging the slim, slack body with him over to the bed. He spread his legs
where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling Mutt up to face him and
yanking his legs out to hook over his own, his ass hanging down between David's
knees.
David pulled Mutt's face up with one hand. "You're thinking too hard. Just
feel, pet. Let go. Just let go." He brought his hand up, and then struck down
onto Mutt's exposed backside, hard. He used one arm to hold the slave up,
fingers tangled in his hair and kissing him hard, while the other hand spanked
him hard, bringing them closer together, and Mutt's sensitive front rubbing
against the rough fabric of David's clothes.
Kurt could feel the pain and discomfort level rising, and couldn't figure out
what his owner wanted of him, but then all he could taste was Sir David, and
all he could feel was Sir David, and he was getting closer and closer to
something, and Kurt was terrified. He tried to push it off, but then Sir David
pulled away from his mouth and moved to his neck, and as he continued to spank
his ass with extreme force, he bit down onto Kurt's collarbones, and everything
seemed to go stark white, like when he'd orgasmed that morning for the first
time, only this time it was different. He could feel each stroke of his owner's
hand, and the prick of his teeth on his neck, and each bit of contact only
served to take him higher, and he was soon sobbing and clinging to Sir David,
completely lost to reality.
When Kurt came back down to earth, it was to realize he was lying on his back
on the bed and Sir David was thrusting gently in his ass, moving excruciatingly
slowly as he moved their bodies together, his hand a soft touch on Kurt's cock.
There was no way for Kurt to know for just how long they'd been in this state,
but he could feel the abused flesh of his backside rubbing on the bedding,
while his abused front rubbed against the fur covered expanse of his owner, and
he couldn't control the moans that left him.
When David realized that his pet was back in his mind, he started thrusting
with purpose, determined to see them both to completion again. He leaned
forward, knowing that his hideous body hair had to be working on the toy's
tender skin, but at the way he was moaning, it couldn't be entirely bad. When
he'd seen Mutt finally fly out and into ecstasy earlier, he'd gentled his
strokes, but worked him through until his arm had started to lose strength.
Then he'd stretched the slave, and mounted him, patiently waiting until he'd
come to himself again.
Now they were attached, down below, and also at their mouths. Kurt couldn't get
enough of his Master's mouth and body. His hands lifted of their own volition
to stroke and grip onto the strong body surrounding him, wanting to touch
everywhere, and incredibly turned on by the way his body hair seemed to be
everywhere, and the way it was scratching at his ultra sensitive skin.
In the end it was the memory of how his Master had taken him up and to that
lovely, blissful place, combined with a soft "You may come, pet." that sent him
over the edge, and Kurt came between them. He was vague and limp as his Master
finished up, using him until he came himself, and then wiping them both with a
cloth and using a large plug inside Kurt's backside before arranging them much
like he had the night before, with Kurt lying at his hip, his mouth full of Sir
David's soft cock.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                                        
                               The Master Suite
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
 
 
When David felt the pet nodding off against his hip, he allowed his fingers to
drift through the thick, dark hair. He didn't know what had come over him. He'd
never been so familiar with a slave before, but this one seemed different
somehow. Mutt, or rather, Kurt, was so giving, and honest, and sweet tempered.
David found himself wanting to give the little imp pleasure, even when the pet
himself admitted that he neither expected it, or felt it was deserved him, as a
pleasure slave.
David was used to having slaves who either fought him, or were mindless voids
inside human flesh. This Kurt/Mutt creature was very different from those toys.
He was a pure joy to watch as he fell apart, and he followed commands so
readily and with such trust. David felt as though Kurt may have been made
especially for him, but tried to brush off the feeling as something fanciful.
Such was nonsense, and it would get him no closer to the end of his own
captivity inside this body. He needed to concentrate on that, and on finding
out the true meaning of the prophecy that the witch had given when she'd cursed
him all those years ago.
Just then he felt a small snuffle as his pet nuzzled in further to him,
shifting so his shoulder was pressed more securely to his Master's thigh, and
David couldn't deny a prickle of emotion that welled in his sinuses, though he
clenched down on it before it became tears.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
After the first few days of being only in each others company, staying close to
the dungeon and the baths, David decided that it was time for them to move up
to his suite of rooms in the tower, so he wrapped his pet in a sheet, covering
him head to toe with fabric, not wanting him to be exposed to the staff of the
castle, wanting to keep that for himself, and carried him in his arms, deciding
that it was the safest way to move him.
Once they arrived, several flights upwards and an entire wing away, he lay the
pet on his own massive bed, commanding him to 'stay', so that he might command
his house servants to bring a meal, and also to fill the large tub in the
adjoining space with hot water. There was a pulley system to bring the water,
so that the maids and footmen wouldn't have to march all the distance up the
steps, but it still took time to fill and clear the water.
David sat on the edge of the bed, slipping the sheet down to expose Mutt's face
for the first time since the move, laughing when he realized the pet was asleep
inside his covering, his own thumb in his mouth as he breathed deep and slow.
David brushed his fingers over the fair cheek that was so flushed form being
tucked inside the cloth for so long, but rather than waking him, he curled
himself up on the bed next to his bed, content to watch him for a moment while
they waited for the meal to arrive, not noticing quite how tired he was, and
falling into a restful sleep next to his pet, with an arm wrapped over his
waist, pulling Kurt-no, Mutt's back into his chest.
When David awoke, it was to a movement at the foot of the bed, and it took him
a moment to realize that it was his personal maid, motioning to him quietly
that the food had been delivered on the table. Once his eyes had cleared of the
blur of sleep, he nodded to her, motioning that she should leave. He moved to
shift, but realized that his hand was occupied, and he looked down at the place
where Kurt/Mutt was lying in his arms, and saw that his hand had been drawn up
from where he'd rested it at his pet's waist and was now cupped between two
soft, fair hands, his thumb now in Kurt's suckling mouth, his other fingers
tangled with the slave's slim ones. He smiled softly, brushing at the pet's
hair with his nose and moving down so his mouth was just below Kurt's ear,
mouthing at the flesh where his jaw met his neck.
Kurt felt his body shake with a shudder, and let out a helpless moan around
what he'd been sucking on. His eyes fluttered open, and he realized the
position he was in, but he didn't dare move without permission. He wasn't sure
how he'd gotten into this position, but if his Master had put him there, then
there he would stay.
David felt Kurt stiffen in his arms, then relax again, and then there was the
soft brush of his fingers brushing over David's hand where he was still holding
it. He seemed reluctant to move, so David did it for him, pulling his hand
away, and whispering in his ear. "It's time to get up, pet. Supper's arrived,
and I want to show you around the rooms before my nightly bath, as you'll be
here without me for quite some bit of your days, as I've been neglecting my
duties in the keep.
Kurt listened, calm and relaxed here, then nodded when his Master nudged him.
He followed him out of the bed, though instead of standing from it like Sir
David did, he clambered to his knees, following him to the table area in a
crawl. He climbed onto the pillow that Master motioned him to, settling in and
only looking up when a finger touched below his chin. He then accepted the
bites that his owner fed him, eating delicately from those strong fingers,
laying a timid kiss to a fingertip when the hand lingered at his lips. He
caught himself, glancing up at Master's face quickly, suddenly fearful that
he'd made a mistake, and noted the drawn forehead, but realized that it wasn't
from anger, and his knotted stomach eased. He kept his lips to himself through
the rest of the meal, eating the bits he was fed, but not looking up again.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
David walked through his rooms, moving quickly enough, but making sure that the
pet could keep up from his position on his knees, giving direction as to which
areas he was welcome in and which he needed to stay removed from, and showing
him to the bathing area, which also held the area for relieving oneself. He
allowed his pet to use this, then showed him also the area and tools for
cleaning himself in preparation for his Master.
Once the tour was complete, David moved to the large bath, the steaming water
drawing his attention. He dipped in a finger, then his hand, gauging the
temperature to make sure it had cooled sufficiently. It was perfect, and he
quickly divested himself of his garments, climbing into the tub. Kurt had
positioned himself in the corner, face turned down passively, and David called
out to him. "Pet, come here." When Kurt was on his knees next to the copper
tub, David reached out, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Climb carefully into
the water, Pet. Just between my legs here, Good."
Kurt settled in, allowing his body to be shifted by his owner's hands, leaning
back when he was pulled, and reveling in the feel of the soft yet scratchy hair
of Sir David's skin against the soft hairless surface of his own flesh.
David reached for a bar of soap, lather and bubbles covering his hands as he
lowered them to Kurt's chest, beginning at his shoulders and working his way
down, over collarbones, then meeting at his neck, massaging gently, then moving
down further, fingers brushing, then closing over stiff nipples, massaging
them, squeezing and pulling at the peaks.
He could tell that Kurt was trying to hold his sounds in, and so leaned
forward, letting his breath flow over the bare skin of his neck, blowing at the
bubbles there. "You can make noise, Pet. Let the sounds flow from you." Kurt
moaned loudly, dragging in a shuddering breath as David's hands continued their
ministrations on his chest, leaning his head back onto David's shoulder.
"That's right, pet. Let me hear how much you love having my hands on you. Beg
me for it. Ask me to touch you right where you want them, sweet boy. I want to
hear your voice."
Kurt had to concentrate on the orders, his thoughts wanting to scatter like so
many leaves in the fall. "P-pl-please, Master... Please touch me... Please..
want your hands on me..."
David reveled in the sounds, a lower pitch than the pet usually spoke. "But
where, Pet? Where do you want your Master's hands?" His nose pressed to the
damp tendrils of hair that were sticking to Kurt's forehead.
"Anywhere." His head shook a little against David's shoulder. "Anywhere Master
wants to touch his slave. Just want it. Want anything. Pain, or pleasure,
whatever Master wants for me, I want it. Please, Sir." He was panting, another
moan wrenched from him as he felt David's hands moving down, slipping over the
muscles of his stomach.
"Like this, slave?" He moved his hands from the lean muscles of Kurt's stomach,
sliding down further to rub at the seam where his thigh met his hip, pressing
his fingers in, and working the muscle as it flexed beneath the skin. "Do you
want my hands here, or somewhere else? Do you want them on your cock, or on
your ass? Or somewhere else? I could always move back to here..." One of his
hands moved back up to Kurt's nipples, tweaking them in turn, scratching at the
skin between them with his short nails.
"Anywhere, Sir. Please... Please, Sir..." Kurt was nearly insensate with want,
writhing there in David's arms. "Wherever Master wants, Pet just wants Master
happy."
David had had enough of the teasing, and pulled his hands up to rinse the
lather still remaining on Kurt's shoulders, flipping him so they were facing
each other, pulling him in for a hard kiss, all suction and heat and too much
spit. His hands scrabbled for the plug that he'd left inside Kurt earlier,
pulling it out and blessing the fates for the slickness he found remaining
there, yanking Kurt's knees to either side of his hips, and thrusting up inside
him, heedless of the water sloshing over the sides of the tub. "Ride me, Pet."
When Kurt started to move tentatively, David bit down hard on his neck, letting
out a harsh growl. "Harder, slave. Ride me harder." Then Kurt was slamming up
and down, letting out short, sharp wails on each stroke. It was too much, too
hot, too wet, too dry, too much friction, and not enough, and then Kurt was
coming, barely able to wait long enough for the "Yes, Pet. Go ahead." just
holding out long enough for permission, continuing to pound himself down,
wanting to keep his Master inside himself forever. Finally there was a heavy
groan and huge hands were bruising his hips, holding him down and in as Sir
David came hard.
They lay panting against each other for long minutes until they both realized
that the water had cooled. David moved Kurt like a rag doll, as he was so limp
from orgasm, cleaning them both and lifting them from the tub, wiping them dry
and moving to the bed. When Kurt would have moved to the foot of the bed into
position at David's crotch, he was surprised by the way David shook his head,
and pulled him up onto the pillows, arranging them as they had been during
their short nap, this time guiding his own thumb to Kurt's mouth to nurse on as
he slept, and Kurt softly smiled as he felt his Master wrapped around him
everywhere, and fell into a deep sleep.
 
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                   The Study
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
They fell into a routine of sorts, after moving into the master suite in the
east tower. At dawn, a maid would wake them with a meal, Sir David would feed
them both, and then they would move to a room just to the left of the bathing
room, where David would arrange Kurt this way, or that way, and then would
abrade his flesh as he saw fit. Some days it was the suede cat o'nine, and some
days it was a paddle, other days just Sir's hand on Kurt's bare ass, but every
day had Kurt counting off his strokes, twice the number of his age, and then
he'd be left alone in the suite.
He was allowed to use the few books on the shelf in Master's room, and the
meager piles of time fillers left behind in the sitting room by a long ago lady
of the castle. Kurt wasn't allowed to walk on two feet without permission, and
was strictly forbidden from entering Sir David's study, a room which seemed
dark, and smelled musky and dank.
Kurt suddenly found himself with hours each day where he had nothing to do but
lie on the rough carpet of the sitting room in front of the fire and watch the
flames play shadows on the ceiling.
He eventually made 'friends' with a mouse who lived in the tower, and it would
eat the crumbs from the breakfast plate from his fingers, and would crawl up
into his hands and nibble at his fingertips, falling asleep on his shoulder in
front of the fire. Kurt was glad for the companionship, the mouse reminding him
of the animals he'd befriended on his father's estate when he was a child. But
he wasn't supposed to think of that time and that place, and yet... he had so
many hours, the long, endless hours of waiting, of just making sure he was
available to his Master, should he arrive, and yet he never did, not before
supper, at least.
Kurt was glad that his Master ate with him, though. He would have breakfast
before he left for the day, and then would feed Kurt from his dinner plate
before marking him again, then taking him in varying positions, using his body,
and bringing Kurt to dizzying planes of ecstasy, then having a bath, sometimes
together, and sometimes Kurt would be ordered to bathe after Sir was finished
in the water, and then they'd sleep in the massive bed. Kurt thought it odd,
but never said anything for fear of having the privilege taken away, but he was
never made to sleep in the slave's rightful place on the floor. He was always
next to or wrapped up in his Master.
It was one such endlessly long afternoon, and he'd been sitting, playing with
the mouse, when he'd accidentally dropped his friend from his shoulder, and off
he went, running like a shot for the door of the study. Kurt didn't think
before he followed, watching the tiny beast squeeze through the notch on the
corner of the door that prevented it from being a complete rectangle of wood.
Kurt reached up to open the handle, shoving the door open and searching on his
hands and knees for the creature, sighing when he saw him huddled in a corner,
then making a small kissing sound, the small, shaking thing made it's timid way
toward him.
Just as he had settled the terrified animal's beating heart, there was a thud
from the bedroom and a call "Pet, where are you? Pet?" Then heavy footsteps.
Kurt panicked, finally realizing just where he was in the suite, and setting
the mouse down on the floor to hurry to the door, hoping to be out of the room
in time, but no, there the Master was, standing in the doorway, his face
completely slack with shock and betrayal. "Pet, what are you doing in here? I
told you that this place was not for you." Kurt moved to answer, but stopped at
a sweeping motion of Sir David's hand. "Silence! You were ordered to remain
outside this room, and yet here I find you." He shook his head, disappointment
writ all over his features. "I had hoped that I wouldn't have to punish you,
Mutt, but it turns out my hopes are as they ever have been, useless and
wasted." He turned away, spitting over his shoulder, "Follow, slave." as he
marched toward the implement room.
Kurt followed on his knees, feeling like so much of a failure that he'd been
unable to follow his Master's simplest of edicts, knowing that whatever Sir
David decided to punish him with, he deserved it for so blatantly disregarding
his orders. Once in the correct room, Master motioned towards the stocks there,
and Kurt lifted himself so that his head and hands could be locked into the
wooden implement, his legs attached to the legs, spread wide and leaving his
tender parts most vulnerable.
Sir David didn't wait, or warm Kurt's skin as he would have during a normal
daily marking, but drew back his whip, a leather beast this time, and let it
fly against the soft skin of his backside. Kurt choked back a wail, not quite
succeeding, and Sir David rounded the front of the Stocks, his hands full of...
oh, a gag. It looked like a bit for a horse, but with a flat piece extending
forward that would sit on Kurt's tongue to keep him silent in fear of gagging
himself, and Kurt opened wide, allowing it to be strapped around the back of
his head.
Then his Master was behind him again, snapping the whip back and bringing it
forward against him, over and over, and Kurt determined to keep count, feeling
the tears and snot draining from his face as he went up, past fifty, then past
a hundred, and his Master just kept going, seemingly merciless in his
punishment. At some point the pain became so excruciating that Kurt seemed to
lose all time and place, not quite reaching the planes of ecstasy that his
Master had taken him to back in the dungeon, but his mind had separated from
the pain enough that he no longer felt attached to his body.
David was lost to the heavy strokes of his whip for long minutes, then who knew
how long, until suddenly a streak of red pulled his attention, and then a
steady drip, and the sight shocked him, and he dropped the whip immediately,
only now realizing how much damage he'd done to his Pet in his panicked rage at
finding him inside the study.
He watched as that lone stripe welled with redness, the trickle of blood
painting down from his shoulder blade, trailing down his back, and David went
to his knees. He couldn't believe what he'd done. "Pet?" When no response came,
he rounded the wooden contraption, only then remembering that he'd gagged him.
He quickly reached up to gently remove it, his panic reaching new levels when
Kurt only hung there unresponsive. "Mutt? Pet? Pet? Oh Gods."
He moved back around, releasing the slave's feet, then unhinging the stocks,
moving to support his body while putting minimal pressure on his abused back.
He laid him out on padded table in the room, face down, and turned his face,
patting his cheek softly, desperate for any reaction at all. "Pet! Mutt, you
must wake up!" He didn't know what to do, reached for a cloth, wetting it,
pressing it to the wound he'd made on his Pet's back, berating himself for the
fool he was.
He felt wetness sliding down his cheeks as he felt the helplessness swamp him.
He reached forward, grasping the sides of Kurt's face, not noticing or caring
when blood smeared across his cheek from David's own hands. He leaned down,
pressing soft kiss after soft kiss on that pale face, hoping, nay, praying, for
some response, any response. "Pet, please... Kurt..." There was a tremble from
the prone body, and David called out again, louder this time, "Kurt! Kurt, wake
up, pet. You must wake up for me."
Kurt could hear something, far off, but the buzzing and vibration kept the
sound at bay, and he rested in the peaceful darkness as long as he could, until
suddenly, the voice was back, only this time it was shouting, and it was his
name, and he opened his eyes, part of him expecting to find his Father there,
or his Aunt, so when his eyes focused, and he found Sir David, he was shocked,
not comprehending the tears and choked off voice until his face was pulled
upwards again at that odd angle, and his lips were being kissed roughly, and
then the pain rushed him all at once, and he cried out, unable to hold himself
together as his whole body shook, a tremble taking over him, wracking his frame
with hard shaking.
"Kurt, shhh... it's okay... you're okay..."
"It hurttssss... Master, why does it hurt so much?" And the fat tears fell from
his eyes, his frame rocking of it's own volition, the cloth moving from his
back and a small trickle of blood renewing where the clot had been disturbed.
Kurt was keening, and David didn't know what to do, but didn't want to leave
him in this state either, so he called out sharply, his voice loud enough to
call up a servant from the stairwell.
Kurt rocked for a few moments more, but when pressure was replaced on his
wounded back in an attempt to staunch the bleeding, everything went black
again, only this time in a dead faint.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                                        
                      A letter, a visitor, and a goodbye?
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
 
 
Kurt had eventually awoken, groggy and numb, face down on his Master's bed. He
had timidly asked the maid who was attending him if the Master would be back
soon as he realized how late it must be. She murmured that the Master had
retreated to the dungeons, and hadn't come back out, and it didn't appear that
he would at any time soon.
That had been three days ago. The scar on Kurt's back had healed well, and
quickly, under the close care of the servants, with different poultices and
ointments spread onto it regularly.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
Four days after his punishment, Kurt was wondering if he'd ever see his owner
again, and spent countless hours berating himself in his mind for disobeying in
such a way that had caused his owner to want to completely disregard him.
He didn't allow himself to weep, but he also didn't allow himself any simple
pleasures that he'd come to enjoy during his time in the tower. He refused to
play with the mouse, still leaving the plate near to the fire, but refusing to
partake of the warmth or companionship himself. He stayed on his knees during
the days, in the corner of the bathing room, holding in his urine for as long
as he could before he'd budge.
This self imposed punishment went on for another three days before there was a
sudden noise at the doorway of the bathing chamber. Kurt refused to turn,
centered on his punishment, reveling in the pain in his legs and knees, knowing
that the painful stiffness was something that he deserved, for doing what he'd
done, for disobeying his owner and displeasing him in such a way. He couldn't
bear to think about it, and when he did, he ground his knees harder into the
stone, biting back a whimper of pain.
David watched from the doorway as his slave punished himself, tears wanting to
flood his eyes as he witnessed the stiff posture, the red line where his wound
was healing a stark reminder of how his owner had completely lost control. He
let his eyes fall shut for a moment, but then he was moving from the doorway
and over to Kurt, reaching down to lift him, carrying him into the bedroom,
still not speaking.
He lay Kurt on his back on the bed, going to the table for the ointment the
maid had left earlier, returning to rub it onto Kurt's abraded knees. Once
treated, he laid the ointment aside and wiped his hands on a cloth.
He turned back to his Pet, finally meeting those stunning blue eyes without
flinch. He was so very ashamed of himself, and had quarantined himself, and had
resurfaced to receive word that his personal pleasure slave was punishing
himself for his Master's absence. He was only eating small amounts, sleeping
little or not at all, and not allowing himself any fillers for his time,
placing himself into a punishment pose on the hard stone without prompting. It
was long past time for that to end, but David only blamed himself, and now he
had to wonder how the boy would respond to the news he bore.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
He'd shown up in the early afternoon, outside his normal schedule, because
there had been a messenger, bearing a letter in response to a missive he'd
sent. When Kurt had told him about his birth as a free man, he'd sent out fifty
copies of the same letter, all requests for knowledge of the background details
of one Kurt Hummel, and his father Burt, now deceased.
The response he'd received was in the form of an older servant in a wagon,
claiming to have a precious cargo. He'd turned over a package wrapped in fabric
and tied closed. When David had moved to a private space and unwrapped it, he
found a small portrait of a young boy with what must have been his parents.
His jaw had fallen open when he realized that the young boy was his Pet, hair
combed and clothes fine. The mother was beautiful, all fine bones and stunning
features, while the father had all of Kurt's masculine handsomeness in an
older, wider package. There was also a letter enclosed, asking that he study
the painting, but to please return it with the servant, as it was the woman's
only connection to her young grandson who had once been. He had stewed in the
room for hours, knowing that he had to decide whether to be honest and tell the
woman that he had Kurt in his possession, or to keep quiet, because no one in
his keep had seen Kurt save David's private servants, but had decided to sleep
on the decision, just wanting to see Kurt, to feel him and know that the boy
still belonged to him, at least right now.
He'd gone up to his private rooms, feeling desperate and possessive, thinking
about what might occur should he tell the woman of Kurt's whereabouts. Would
she come for him? Would he leave? He walked in, not finding his pet
immediately, and so continued into the sitting room, and noticed the open door
of his office.
No. His mind went blank. He'd told Mutt not to go into the office. There were
too many things- too many memories- of his mother, the cold queen who'd taught
him little other than a cold shoulder, of his father, a king who ruled with an
iron fist and a heavy wooden staff that he'd used on his son when a whipping
boy simply wouldn't do. He followed the soft murmur of Kurt's voice into the
study, and the sight of him there, sitting so peacefully on the floor, combined
with the rush of cigar smoke scented furnishings, and David was gone. He felt
such rage, and everything went red. He only came out of his red haze when it
was broken by a trickle of actual red.
Since his servants had come to care for Kurt in his room, he'd been closeted in
the dungeons with the painting and the letter. After the first night, he'd
written a responding letter and dispatched it with the messenger. It simply
stated that if the woman wanted her painting, and her grandson, that she should
come and collect them herself. What finally brought him forth from the dungeons
was the return of the woman's servant, bearing news that she would arrive in
three days time.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
David moved from the side of the bed, moving to the table near the doorway,
where he'd deposited the painting upon entering the space. He brought it back,
holding it out to Kurt. He watched as the boy's face slipped into a mask of
shock.
"Where- How did- I don't-..." Kurt looked up from the painting, tilting his
head to the side, and tears coming to his eyes. "Master? I don't understand."
David sat on the foot of the bed, facing Kurt but separated by several feet of
blankets. "I sent a letter out when you told me about your birth status. This
arrived half a fortnight past, and soon your Grandmother, or a woman who claims
to be, will arrive. As I have proven, you are no longer safe here, so if she
turns out to be all she says she is, you will be going with her when she leaves
this place."
Kurt was shaking his head side to side. "That can't be true. My Aunt said that
she was my only living relative. She swore to the debt holders that there was
no one else."
David reached forward, laying his hand on the curve of Kurt's foot. "But who
knows what may have motivated such a woman, aye? So we shall see. But you
should rest and eat, Pet. For soon your freedom comes."
Kurt jolted, eyes locked on Sir David's face. "Wh- freedom? But I don't
understand, Sir. Even if this woman is a relation, I belong to you for five
years." And then his eyes widened, as though he'd had a sudden thought. He
scrambled down off of the bed, falling to his knees near David's legs. He
didn't reach out, but his forehead came forward, leaning against David.
"Please, Master. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I promise not to disobey again."
David could only watch him, desperately clamping down on his own emotion even
as he felt his pant legs dampening with his pet's tears.
"I know I was wrong, and I'm so so sorry, Sir. I will be so good, please don't
send me away."Kurt could feel his head being lifted, and his tear tracks wiped
by large, calloused fingers. He dared not look up to find the disgust there. He
tightened his arms where they were wrapped around his waist.
"Pet, I don't do this to cause you pain. If this woman is your relative, and
willing to pay for your release as she said to, it will simply be a
transaction. Your freedom for the money to reimburse me. All very plain, I
fear. Your offense was more than paid for by your punishment at my hands, and I
apologize for not telling you so." David pulled his hands away from Kurt's
face, unable to handle touching him anymore, sure that any more contact, and
he'd lose his control and throw him down on the bed and fuck him so hard he'd
feel him still when he was gone. Instead, he stood, edging around Kurt and
moving to the door. "You should rest now, pet. In the bed though. No more of
this punishment. You will care for yourself. It would please me if she found
you healthy when she arrives."
Kurt looked up at the doorway, desperate tears falling from his eyes. He
searched the room for Sir David, but he was gone, as though the whole thing was
a dream, the only proof that it wasn't was a small oil painting and a lingering
scent of musky male skin.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
David watched as Kurt was led down the stairs by the maid who had been caring
for him. She held his hand, as he seemed less than steady on his feet, and
looked ill at ease with the ill fitting clothes he wore, tugging at the seams
and looking around furtively, as if waiting for punishment for wearing fine
clothing. His eyes were red and his face splotchy, obviously having cried
recently. He looked drawn and pale, his figure thinner than David liked.
Just then Kurt looked up, catching sight of David in the doorway of a small
salon. Kurt's eyes warmed, and just when he would have lifted a hand to wave,
he missed a step on the stairs and had to catch himself, requiring aid from the
woman guiding him. When they had reached the bottom of the steps, he looked
back down the marble tiled hallway, but David was gone. His face fell, and he
meekly followed along as he was led into a small room, where he was allowed to
sit on the floor in front of the fire, waiting for who knew what.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
Word had come that a fine, if dated, carriage had crossed onto their property,
and should arrive within the hour, and David had sent for Kurt to be dressed
and brought down. He wouldn't show himself, reluctant to show himself to
strangers in his cursed state. After watching Kurt descend, he'd moved to a
small cupboard, pushing in a button under the shelf, and a part of the wall
opened, and he slipped through, moving to a space behind the sitting room where
Kurt would wait and eventually receive the woman when she arrived.
He watched through a grate in the wall that was hidden from normal view by a
mural painted over it. Kurt was sitting on the rug in front of the fire. David
saw him reach into a pocket and pull out something that moved. Kurt brought it
up to his face, and touched his nose to it and the creature lifted it's head.
Ah, a mouse then. The mouse lifted it's paw to Kurt's face, and there was a
soft sigh. The tiny companion was perched on a shoulder, and it laid down to
rest. Kurt's face was then tilted toward the fire, his head resting against his
knees where they were pulled to his chest. His shoes were discarded near the
chaise, and his bare toes curled in the carpet distractingly. David desperately
wanted his hands on that skin, his body wrapped around Kurt's, wanted to be the
one who earned the perch on that shoulder, breathing him in. But he wasn't that
person. Not anymore. The woman would come, confirm that Kurt was her family,
and would pay his debt. Then David would return to the auctions and find
himself a new slave who would end the curse. All would go according to plan. At
least that's what he told himself as he watched Kurt stare into the flames.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
Kurt was startled by the door opening suddenly. He turned quickly, seeing a
footman enter and genuflect quickly. Kurt was so startled that he almost didn't
grasp what the man said. "Her Ladyship, Baroness Hartford, Sir." And with a
motion, he was gone and in came sweeping an older woman fine clothes that were
obviously well worn, and well cared for, but not threadbare.
Suddenly she was right there in front of him, dropping to her knees and
covering her gaping mouth with a gloved hand. She choked out a sound, meeting
Kurt's wide blue gaze with an identical one of her own. "Kurtis? Could it be?
My Elizabeth's boy? Is it really you, Kurtis?"
Her lightly accented voice belied her foreign status, but Kurt didn't know what
to say. He had no memory of this woman, and couldn't remember ever hearing of
her either. "My name is Kurt, though my Master sometimes calls me Mutt. Should
I know you?"
Fat tears were soon rolling down her wrinkled cheeks. "Oh, darling. I'm so very
sorry. You will never know how much guilt I carry for what has happened to you.
When your Aunt told me that you had died with your father, I should never have
believed her. A heartless, self serving wretch if ever I knew one. When I found
her journal entries after her passing and saw that you lived, and were done
away with, I was heartbroken, and I searched for you, but I never found you.
Until a fortnight ago when a letter came, asking about a slave called Kurt, and
I had to take the chance." She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, wiping at
her face gently. "Now. I only have to pay this man his due, and you will have
your rightful freedom and we'll be off."
Kurt made a small noise, protest coming from his throat before he was able to
control it. Soft, gentle eyes turned to him, and an understanding look graced
him. "Well, I am rather exhausted. I'm sure your patron wouldn't mind housing
the servants and I for a night before we go. Would that make you more
comfortable, dearling? We can sup together and speak a little before starting
our journey tomorrow?" She waited until Kurt nodded meekly, reaching out to
stroke his soft hair before standing and moving to the hallway. Kurt listened
to her voice fade and let his face fall, his whole body shaking with his sobs.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
Kurt knew that if he was going to have to leave the next day, he needed to see
Sir David again, at least once. He now had free roam of the castle, though he'd
been shown back to the master suite after supper the night before. He had
muddled his way through eating the meal with utensils and sitting in the chair,
but other than a few pitying looks from this woman who appeared to be his
grandmother, there was no real difficulty. He hadn't seen Sir David, other than
the glimpse from the stairs, since he'd come to the rooms to chastise him and
give him the portrait three days before, and so now, he searched. He'd gotten
help from one of the footmen to find the dungeons where he'd spent his first
days here with David. His bare feet were still awkward on the stairs, so he
held onto the manservant's shoulder as they descended. When they arrived, Kurt
moved past him, not bothering to knock on the open door, but swinging it closed
behind him.
He could see Sir David lying on the bed in the corner, and immediately started
disrobing. He folded the clothes neatly, piling them on a bench hear the door.
When he was nude, he dropped to his knees, and closed his eyes for a moment at
the comfort of the familiar. He crawled over to the foot of the bed and then
climbed up onto the soft surface, smiling softly at the soft snores coming from
his Master. He was lying naked, only covered by a fine sheet. Kurt pulled it
aside, climbing up between Master's legs and taking his soft cock into his
mouth, settling in and soon falling asleep himself, finally feeling at home.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
David was having the most amazing dream. He was lying with Kurt, thrusting into
his tight body, listening to him moan and pant, those pale thighs spread so
beautifully, his slick ass clenching around David's cock. Suddenly there was a
sniffle, and movement, and David jerked to wakefulness, realizing that he
wasn't in bed alone. The light from the gas lamp on the table was low, but he
could see and feel that there was a body tucked sweetly between his knees, and
he reached down, carding his fingers through the familiar thick waves, rocking
forward a little and slamming his eyes shut when Kurt started sucking at him
again, still entirely asleep.
He was groggy and sexually deprived, and that was what he would use as his
defense if he ever needed one, but in that moment, he only felt the need.
Desperate, coiled, tightening with each moment. He pulled Kurt away from his
cock, reaching down to grasp him by the armpits, pulling him up and over
David's chest and rolling them over. Kurt was a deep sleeper, and remained
asleep as David arranged him on his back and sent a hand down between his legs,
closing his eyes in defeat when he found the smooth base of a plug there,
realizing that Kurt had prepped himself before coming to find him. He took a
deep breath in, inhaling the musk of leather, and skin, and Kurt. He moved to
find the oil he used to lubricate himself, coating his cock before coming back
to Kurt, gently removing the plug and reaching in with slick fingers to be sure
that he was sufficiently prepared before David was sliding in, burying his face
into Kurt's soft neck at the feeling of peace and home he felt when buried
inside the boy.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
Kurt was having an incredible dream. David was buried inside him, thrusting
long and slow, and his knees were up and over those broad shoulders, and just
as he was about to beg to come, the dream dissolved, but before he was able to
feel upset, he realized that this was no dream, but David was pounding inside
his ass, that huge strong hand wrapped tightly around his cock, big golden eyes
trained on his face as he came to, realizing that he was the one making those
noises he heard. He considered silencing himself, but just then David thrust
extra hard, pulling up and twisting his thumb on Kurt's dick, pressing forward,
and taking Kurt's mouth in a rough kiss.
Kurt brought his hands up, tangling them in the hair on David's head, falling
ever deeper into his kiss, moaning at the taste and texture, not having
realized just how desperately he'd wanted, nay, needed that taste, and touch,
and -there!- David was hitting his prostate with each thrust, and Kurt was
whining and whimpering, and then begging for release, and David was whispering
his permission, and they were coming, seeming like it was together, but it
could have just been overlapping, or completely separate. Kurt was so lost to
his orgasm, he wouldn't remember later how they'd gotten into position to
sleep, but some time later he'd wake up with David at his back, and with
David's thumb in his mouth, while the big man thrust inside him from behind,
and he'd come and come and come and then they would fall asleep wrapped up
together again, unmindful of the state of the sheets on the pallet bed.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                               The Demon Prince
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
                                        
Kurt wasn't settling well. He had the most luxurious of spaces for himself, and
a constant stream of visitors wanting to welcome him 'home', and his clothes
were of the finest fabrics, servants always on hand to fetch him anything he
wanted. He was miserable.
When he was finally alone in his rooms at night, he would take the sheet from
the bed, strip off his clothes, and curl up on the floor by the fire, thumb
tucked in his mouth, and would cry quietly until sleep claimed him. Sometimes,
if he was feeling particularly adrift, he would take the ribbons from the bed
curtains and would wrap one around his ankles, then another around his wrists,
but he didn't need it most nights.
The days were long and empty, especially without his tiny furred companion. He
was surrounded by people, and sometimes he would hold a book open in his hands
so that they wouldn't speak to him, instead speaking with his Grandmother and
pretending to ignore him, but still sending looks his way.
He knew they thought him odd, and who could blame them, when here he was, so
ill fitting in this place. He should be happy with these comforts, should feel
lucky to be with family again, should be grateful for all the things now
offered to him, should be relieved to be outside his previous sphere as a
slave, and yet...
He sighed, flipping a page in his book without reading a single word. If he
tried, he could make out a few words if he concentrated. He had learned when he
was a child, but so many years without the need of reading had dulled his
abilities.
The room had gone quiet, and he glanced around to realize that his Grandmother
had left. There were a few women sitting on a chaise not far from him, but they
were busy talking to each other, completely ignoring him.
Just then one of them looked up, catching him watching, and flushed. She
squared her shoulders, though, and raised a brow. "Do you mind me asking- what
was it like? Living with the demon prince?"
Kurt was completely taken aback. "The who?" The book fell to his lap as his
fingers went lax.
The girl sighed loudly, sitting forward to sit on the edge of her seat. "The
demon prince. You lived with him, yes? What was it like? Was he monstrous?
Terrifying? You are so brave for surviving it. Such tales are told of his
wicked temper and his soulless gaze." She shuddered, sharing a glance with her
seat partner, who nodded in agreement.
Kurt just looked between them for a moment, at a loss. He firmed his jaw. "He
was no demon. And his eyes are not soulless. They are an odd shade of gold, to
be sure, but nothing un-human. And his temper was broken but once during my
stay with him, but it was earned, as I had broken a hard rule of the house. As
for the rest, he was a very good Master, and I was never terrified of him, even
at his worst." He snapped the book shut, making to stand, but the girls next
words stopped him dead.
"Well, it won't be an issue for much longer anyway. His curse will come due
soon, and then he'll die just like the witch prophesied." She shrugged it off,
a simple phrase, and yet Kurt was frozen.
"Say that again. What witch? What prophesy?" His breathing was labored, and his
chest felt as if there was a weight on it.
She looked surprised that he would have to ask. "He was cursed for his selfish
foolishness when he was a boy, the curse to expire on his twenty first
birthday, and he could only be freed by the submission of a slave, the perfect
trust of a love match, and if he didn't gain that trust, he would die alone
before he became a man." She shrugged a pretty shoulder carelessly. "So soon
the demon prince will no longer haunt the realm. If I'm not mistaken his
birthday is a fortnight after midsummer's eve, and that's next week, is it
not?"
Her companion nodded, giving a confirming murmur.
Kurt turned his suddenly tearing gaze to the carpet, his fingers toying with
the expensive lace on his sleeves. How long he sat there, he didn't know, but
when he came back to himself, it was to the ladies standing and excusing
themselves for the day. He stood, nodding to them, and when he'd watched them
leave, he set out to find his Grandmother. He had plans to make.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
David had handed over the running of the castle to his steward, and had
retreated to his suite. Once there, he had attempted to sleep in his bed,
finding it smelling too much of Kurt, and had called in the servants to change
the bed clothes, and while he waited he sat in the chair by the fire.
He ate from a plate of bread and cheese that had been fetched for him, and when
he spilled a few crumbs, there was movement on the floor, as a tiny mouse came
running out to capture his leavings. About to call out to the servants to rid
him of it, he stopped suddenly when he realized that the creature was wearing a
bow. Just a tiny bit of thread tied around it's foot, but it stopped him dead.
He looked back and forth at his fireplace, realizing suddenly that the pest
hadn't run from him.
He had a sudden idea, taking a bit of the bread in his fingers and holding them
out to the tiny beast, sucking in a breath when it moved closer, sniffing him,
then eating from his hand. When the little creature had finished what he had in
his hand, it retreated to the woodpile, and a crack in the wall there that
David hadn't seen before.
He clenched his jaw, holding tight to his emotions, but when the last servant
came to tell him that they were finished, he ordered his privacy, and sat
staring into the fire. He wouldn't allow himself the release and weakness of
tears. Beasts didn't cry. The thought that kept him secure, though, was that he
wouldn't have to worry about slaves and mice for much longer. Less than a month
until his birthday, and it would all be over.
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                              Returning Champion
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
                                        
His Grandmother thought he was insane, wanting to return, but he wouldn't be
swayed. There were things more important than fine clothes, and Kurt knew with
a clarity born of too much time spent staring into a fireplace, that he would
never forgive himself if he didn't try to help Sir David. And so he'd packed up
everything he thought he might need, which, granted, wasn't much, since he was
so used to having little or nothing, but also contained some food for the
journey, since he didn't wish to stop very many times.
It was a five day ride by carriage, but Kurt had no experience on horseback,
and didn't trust himself not to break his neck on such a journey. Grandmother
wanted to come along, but Kurt was adamant that she would be safer at home,
since the weather was starting to be inclement. He wouldn't realize until later
that he may have jinxed his own journey with those words.
Two days in, there had been a landslide, taking out the road, and what would
have been a five, perhaps six day trip, could now be months long if they waited
for the road to be cleared for them. Kurt had sat with his coachman and the
local priest, borrowing his map of the area, and chosen a new route, but this
would take more than a week. Kurt had thanked the clergyman, gathered his
servants, and they had moved out.
Having gotten lost once, ending up in a briar patch at a dead end, losing an
entire day, they finally made it to the last Inn before the castle. There would
be a stretch of several hours of travel on their last day, since Sir David
lived on an enormous piece of private land, so they had decided to rest the
horses and themselves before starting that last leg.
Kurt wiped at his forehead, the common room being quite warm, and full of
people. There was a celebration of some sort going on. He asked his coachman to
find out what it was all about for him, since he was too timid to ask himself,
and he sat and slowly consumed the soup presented to him by the innkeeper's
daughter.
When the coachman returned, Kurt was horrified to realize that their journey
had taken much longer than he'd thought, as the days had tended to run
together. It was now twelve days past midsummer's eve. Which meant that Sir
David's birthday was less than two days away. Kurt's spoon fell as the coachman
explained to him that the celebration was in honor of the end of the curse, and
the coming demise of the demon prince.
Kurt choked, staring down into the bowl. There was no way he'd be able to eat
it now, knowing how close they would be, gauging in his mind exactly how long
they'd need to travel to reach the castle. He finally pulled his eyes up,
scooting back from the table. "I'm going up to the room to rest. Tell the
others to be ready at dawn. We have to make it on time. I won't let him die."
And then he was out of the room, the coachman watching his back with concerned
eyes.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
David had retreated to the dungeon, thinking that when the curse took him, at
least he'd be in the familiar space with the scent of leather and the memory of
a certain slave. Their last night together had been spent here, orgasming over
and over as their bodies came together. No words had been spoken, but touches
and kisses had said enough. He had marked Kurt over and over, each bit of skin
he could get his teeth and tongue onto had bloomed with color, his fingers
leaving faint bruises on hips and limbs, their lips growing raw.
Now each time David looked at the pallet he heard faint moans and broken
whimpers in that high pitched voice. He had finally let the servants change the
sheets down here, but kept the dirty ones in a pile, and the filthy, scratchy
surface was now his home. He wallowed in the scent of Kurt, the memory of him
fresh and painful. Soon, he thought.
Eight hours till midnight. He had refused a last meal, instead concentrating on
the pain in his belly and staring into the blazing flames in the grate. He
eventually fell into a fitful sleep,
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
Kurt pushed past the doorman, not waiting for admittance. "What is the hour?"
He demanded. He'd gotten better at demanding things during his time with his
Grandmother.
The servant looked shocked, moving out of the way as Kurt's servants filed in
after him. "Um... half past seven, Sir. Would you like me to send someone for
the Master? He's in seclusion, though, so he might not...Sir?"
Kurt had kept walking, waving his servants away. He called behind him to the
doorman. "Please give refreshment to my men. As to the Master, I know where
I'll find him, and need no envoy, thank you."
The servant looked from Kurt's retreating form, then back to the small group of
men in the hall. "Well, I suppose you'll all follow me to the kitchens, then?"
Murmurs of assent and thanks, and he shut the front door, leading them into the
rear of the castle.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
When Kurt reached the level that held the dungeon room, he sent the servant
there to fetch food and drink that could sit, telling him to deliver it outside
the door, and to let them be.
Then he braced himself, looking at that door that was separating him from the
'Demon'. It had been such a long, exhausting journey, but he couldn't rest yet.
There were steps to be taken before midnight, and he would not shirk, not when
David's life hung in the balance.
He took a deep breath and swung open the door. He had a flash of dejavu, seeing
David asleep there, the fire dim, and a single lamp lit. Taking off his
clothing took longer this time, since they were fashionable clothes with ties
and clasps and buckles, but he soon had a neatly folded pile, and sank to his
knees with a small moan. He felt the emotion rush even as he crawled over to
the bed, but this time he didn't climb in for sleep. This time he'd had to do
without the facilities of a pleasure slave, so he gathered the oil, and moved
to the chamber pot and the small contraption for flushing himself. It took a
little time, as he hadn't completed his rituals for some weeks, but once
finished, he returned to the bed, undressing David's lax form.
His clothes were rough and unruly, especially on his unresponsive form, but
Kurt was determined, and soon had him nude as well. He wanted to mount David
right then, or crawl down his front to suck him to arousal, but there were
steps to take. He had talked with the spell woman who worked in his
grandmother's kitchens, and she had told him what it would take to break this
caliber of a curse, and he had a plan.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                             How to break a curse
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
                                        
David felt flutterings around him, but his fuzzy exhausted brain said it was
just dreams, phantom hands that had been haunting him ever since the old
carriage had driven away through the gates. He faded back to sleep, too tired
to even feel upset about Phantom Kurt. Then, just as he was reaching a sound
place, there were hands on him. Not phantom hands, but actual soft hands.
Familiar hands. He opened his eyes the tiniest bit, expecting to find himself
alone and falling into madness, and there he was.
David sucked in a breath and jerked back, not going far, as he was lying prone
on the dungeon pallet, but still shifting enough that Kurt's hand fell away. He
was smiling. David found that strange because Phantom Kurt never smiled. He was
always upset at David for something or other. This Kurt, though, was grinning
at him, and there were tears on his face. David reached up to wipe at the
tears, and stared at his hand when it came away wet. Oh. Not a phantom then.
"Kurt?" His voice was a croak from disuse.
"Yes. You need to get up. We don't have a lot of time." There was another tug
at his arm, and David sat up, moving his head from side to side, trying to
clear it of the sleep that had him groggy.
"What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here. Your Grandmother-" He was
silenced by a hand over his mouth.
"Grandmother has a romantic heart, and when I told her that I needed to come
back, she was against it at first," His hand moved so it was tracing David's
lips, rather than blocking them. "but then I told her that I could break the
curse, well, she demanded that I take her with me." A soft chuckle of fondness
for the woman who had accepted him so readily and had been such a comfort. "I
rid her of that idea quickly. What I do not need is my sweet elderly
grandmother walking in on me submitting sexually." He leaned forward to press
his nose into David's neck, inhaling deeply.
"Wh- Kurt, you can't break the curse. Just submitting won't do it, or else it
would have been broken a long time ago. I'm sure you mean well, but this is for
the best. You'll see. You should go. Get dressed and go home." It broke his
heart to say it, but he didn't want Kurt there to witness it when he died.
Kurt scoffed at him. "I'm not simple, David. I know what it will require, and
I'm not going anywhere. There are certain things I will not be commanded to do.
I'm no one's slave anymore, if you'll recall."
Those golden eyes were suddenly sad and proud all at once. "Oh, I recall. But I
still don't understand what you're doing here."
Kurt moved back, standing next to the bed, and reached just under the edge. He
drew a blade out, and David sucked in a hard breath, his head rearing back in
shock. Kurt just reached out with one hand to stroke at David's cheek, shushing
him softly. He then held out one wrist, baring it, and bringing the knife to
his skin.
"Stop! Right now. What in the name of all the Gods do you think you're doing?"
David was on his feet, gripping the knife and trying to pull it from Kurt's
grasp.
"It's part of the curse, David. I'm not just trying to hurt myself here. Let go
so I can do this." His blue eyes were fierce and commanding.
"Not until you explain yourself. How will cutting your arm break this hopeless
curse?"
Kurt let go of the blade, bringing both hands up to cup David's face tenderly.
"I have to sacrifice myself for you. I talked to a witch of sorts, and she told
me that it wouldn't actually require my death, just a spilling of my blood, and
then I'll submit myself to you."
"But it won't be enough." He turned his head, allowing his lips to coast over
the palm of one of Kurt's soft hands. "I told you, this is hopeless, and I
won't let you harm yourself for nothing."
Kurt shook his head at him, becoming exasperated. "Why do you keep saying that?
If we follow the steps, we can fix this. I can fix this. Now all I need is for
you to let me."
"Kurt-"
"David." He took a breath. "Master." he sank to his knees.
David watched him, unable to move as he watched the boy reach for the blade
where it was hanging form his limp fingers. It slid through his flesh, not
deeply, but enough to shed a few precious drops, and Kurt's incredible blue
eyes closed on a hiss of pain. David dropped down, kneeling before him, taking
the bleeding wrist to his mouth, sucking the flesh in, determined to stop the
flow.
Kurt watched, setting the blade aside, out of the way, before he reached up to
run his fingers through David's thick hair, scratching at his scalp gently. He
pulled his arm away, drawing those lips, now streaked with red, to his own,
moaning softly at the initial touch, the metallic tang of his blood on David's
tongue. He savored it, and him, until he the need for air pulled him away.
"Remember- " He was gasping, desperately pressing closer. "Do you remember how
you you took me up that day? When I was scared and you had to pull me off of
the cross, do you remember?"
His eyes were huge and wet, and David was sure he would fall into them and
drown. "Of course I remember. What is the significance?" He was shaking his
head gently.
Kurt kissed him again, quickly, unable to hold off. "The witch woman, she said
that if you took me there, that it would break the curse. She said that after I
sacrificed myself, shed my own blood, that you could send me to that place, and
then our lovemaking would seal it."
David was shaking his head, his heart breaking for the hope on Kurt's face.
"But it won't work, Kurt. We've done all that before. If that were right, it
should have broken months ago. What difference would it make to do it again
today?" His eyes were closed, all hope dissipating.
Kurt steeled his resolve. He hadn't come this far to be turned away. Not like
this. "Look at me." he met David's golden eyes steadily, determination
sharpening his features. "There is a change from then to now, and it makes all
the difference. I did not love you then, but now that I do, I refuse to let
your stubbornness get in my way." His hands pulled away, and he slowly
separated his body from David's embrace. "Now. Do you want me on the cross,
Master? Or in the stocks, perhaps?" His eyebrow was raised, and his expression
told David that he wouldn't be moved from his decision.
David couldn't move. He felt himself start to shake, and he watched pitifully
as Kurt moved away from him. Love. The only part of the curse that he had
always known he would not be able to fulfill. Who could love a monster such as
he? He had told himself and his staff that it was only a matter of time before
the right person came, until they broke the curse, but it had all been a farce,
something to fill the years until the curse killed him off. And now he was
faced by a slave who wasn't a slave, a boy who was a man, a soul who was his
love, and he wondered if he would be the one to fail him, yet again.
As Kurt moved to the cross, running his fingers over the leather, David came
back to himself enough to clear his throat and start moving. "No, not the
cross. Over here." He stopped at a set of chains connected to a pulley, with a
set of cuffs hanging from the end. He lowered it enough that Kurt wouldn't have
to stretch while he strapped him in. "I want all of you available to me, and
the cross doesn't allow that."
Kurt smiled softly, his eyes following David's broad form as his arms moved,
releasing the chain and securing it again, his massive muscles rippling and
sliding under the skin. His gaze lowered to where David's erection was
straining against his stomach, leaking just the tiniest bit. Kurt felt his own
dick twitch, and he wished that they could be against each other again. What he
wouldn't give to have David's heavy cock in his mouth, sliding into his
throat. Later, he thought. Right now there were more pressing matters.
He moved into position, holding his hands up so that David could secure them,
feeling the tightness of the leather start to pull at his mind, already moving
from the Sir Hummel he'd become, and back to the simple life he'd had for so
long. His eyes fluttered shut, and he felt David-no, Master-, move behind him
to where the chain was secured. It started to rise, and Kurt concentrated on
the pull of his muscles as his arms were drawn taut, and then pulled even
further, until he was balancing on the balls of his feet, not quite on tip toe,
but not able to set his whole foot down either. Then there were hands on him,
gently skating over his skin. A touch across his back, a ghost of contact at
his hip, a dry finger swiped up his crack, soft fabric being settled over his
eyes and secured behind his head.
There was a swish, and then fire across his stomach. It shocked him physically,
but mentally it was just what he'd been expecting, even more, it was just what
he'd been craving. He felt the harsh burn and sting as it multiplied with each
stroke of the whip. The first time they'd done this, Kurt had been confused as
to where it was headed, unable to know where his body would take him at David's
hands, but this time he knew what this was building to, knew that when his body
had had enough, when it was too much, he'd reach that plane of awareness that
was all bliss and incredible pleasure.
David watched Kurt's face as he grimaced with every pass of the leather. He
started off gentle, letting the skin tint a warm pink, but once his skin was
well warmed, David had pulled back further, adding more strength to the
strikes, watching as stripes appeared across the flesh. He took a moment to
just look, loving the view of those angles and curves he knew so well, how well
they took this treatment, and seemed to thrive on it.
David circled Kurt, catching sight of his weeping cock, and his mouth began to
water. Seeing no reason not to, he dropped to his knees, reaching around to
grip Kurt by the ass, digging in with his nails and spreading his cheeks wide,
sliding his fingers in closer, while his tongue slid out, licking at the
wetness that trickled from Kurt's slit, sliding down his length. David followed
the trail, then sliding back up, taking the swollen head into his mouth as Kurt
cried out above him. "Please, Master. Please..."
"What do you want, slave?" he trailed down, taking his sack into his mouth,
able to fit them both at once, and Kurt squealed in that high pitch of his.
"I want... I want.. .Master, please... I want Master to fuck me... but first...
Master, please," his head rolled on his neck. "Please finish it, Please, Sir."
David pulled away just enough to mouth at Kurt's hip, biting down on the bone
there, sucking hard to make a mark. "Finish it? You mean you want to come,
Pet?" He slid over, working on a matching mark for the other side.
Kurt was so sensitive that each move David made felt like the sensation was
going to claw it's way out of him. "N-no, Sir. Finish the ritual, Please,
Master. Not enough time... Want you safe first..."
David rested his forehead against Kurt's skin, sliding his hands down the outer
muscles of his thighs, then bracing himself to stand up. He reached his hands
up to interlock his fingers with Kurt's, bringing their mouths together. After
the first initial lick, he backed up a moment just to breathe together. "You
always surprise me, Pet. But, yes, I will do as you ask."
Kurt's lip trembled, and he leaned his head forward to press his face against
David's, tightening their fingers. "Thank you, Master."
David pulled his fingers away, trailing them slowly down Kurt's arms, and all
the way down his body, watching his face contort and his body writhe as he
scratched his short nails down the ultra sensitive reddened flesh. He leaned in
for one last hard kiss before he moved away, reaching for his next implement.
He'd only caned Kurt a few times before, and never as part of an intense
session, always just a few stripes here or there. This time was different. He
started at the fullest point of Kurt's backside, moving up with his strikes
until he reached Kurt's already screaming red shoulder blades, then moving back
down, marking him every inch or so, then coming back and striking between those
stripes, this time moving down past his ass, down his legs, and then reaching
down to lift Kurt's feet off of the floor one at a time, snapping his wrist to
put gentler stripes across the soles, then returning them to their arched
position beneath him.
He could see in Kurt's posture that his body was taking over slowly. He was
beginning to hang more slack from the bonds, his feet flattening out, and his
mouth lying open, pulling in steady breaths. Almost there, David thought. He
looked at his options, lying on the table, then disregarding them. He glanced
around the room, his eyes finally coming to rest on a selection of paddles
hanging from the far wall. He leaned close to Kurt, pressing a kiss below his
ear and whispering a soft, "Just a second, pet." and crossing the room to
select a flexible leather piece about half the length of his forearm, and as
broad as his palm.
He returned, smoothing a hand down Kurt's back, cupping his hot ass for a
moment, then pulling his arm back and letting fly. He counted strokes, and at
fifteen Kurt was whimpering in his throat like a puppy, but no outward noises
could be heard but the smack of leather on flesh. At twenty eight, was crying
out softly at each impact. At forty five, his body was wriggling, a constant
moan interrupted only by an occasional squeal. At sixty, Kurt was crying out, a
steady sound that nearly had David stopping this whole thing, but then he
thought back to Kurt's heartfelt plea, and he continued. At seventy three, it
happened. His entire frame gave a jerk, and then the moaning was back. David
didn't stop yet, wanting to prolong Kurt's stay, but he gentled the slaps, just
tapping him at this point. Eventually his arm felt as though it would come
unattached, and he had to admit defeat.
He lowered the bonds enough that he'd be able to unhook Kurt safely, coming to
stand in front of him, ducking his head into the loop created by his arms,
pulling him forward so that if he were aware, Kurt would be hugging his neck
from behind. He then released the buckles, keeping Kurt tight to him, and
lifting his weight onto his shoulders, and taking him to the bed. He lay him on
his belly and got a good look. His entire back and sides were a bright crimson,
but the skin hadn't broken. The color faded from the outside of his thighs to
the inside, and David suddenly wanted to inspect that flesh.
He pushed Kurt's legs wide, climbing between them, smiling when he found traces
of his lubricating oil there from when Kurt had obviously cleaned himself. He
put his hands gently to the red curve of Kurt's ass, pulling his cheeks wide
and moving in, inhaling deeply the scent of sweat and leather that clung to his
skin. His tongue came out, licking at the tightly puckered hole, his teeth
scraping at the tender pink skin. He pressed in, feeling the tight resistance
that was quickly replaced with a grasp on his tongue. He slid in, then out,
mimicking the movement he'd make with his cock in a few minutes.
Soon, satisfied that he'd be able to mount his pet, he pulled away, seeking out
his oil. He didn't go straight for Kurt's entrance, wanting to be sure his skin
was cared for, especially after the abuse he'd received from the implements,
and so he spilled some of the oil onto his hands, dripping it onto Kurt's
shoulder blades, bringing his hands down to rub it in gently, making sure not
to abrade the flesh too badly with his coarse hands. He smoothed down his
spine, spreading out to work the oil over his ribs, then his lower back, and
his ass. He kept going, down those muscular legs, feeling almost reverent at
this unexpected opportunity to have his hands all over this body once again. He
glanced at the clock on the wall. Just under an hour until the end, he thought.
He wished that he could have faith the way Kurt seemed to, that they could
break the curse at the last moment, but too many years of facing his doom
prevented him from hoping.
Through wasting time, especially since it was in so short a supply for him, he
slicked his cock, reaching down to press one finger inside, then two, rolling
them from side to side, and then spreading them wide before pulling away. It
would be a stretch, and Kurt would probably be sore later, but that was alright
with David. He liked the idea that Kurt would feel him for a few days at least.
Hands pressed flat to the bed, he brought himself to Kurt's opening, thrusting
inside slowly, feeling the skin stretching around him. He leaned down, letting
his furred chest rub against Kurt's back, resting part of his weight there as
he rocked himself inside, setting a slow pace, wanting this to last until it
was almost time. At least I'll die happy, went through his head.
He rocked them, his knees against the bed on either side of Kurt's completely
surrounding him on the bed, until he could feel the burn creeping up his spine,
and he knew he was close. He was desperate to see Kurt's face, to kiss him. He
glanced at the clock. Half an hour more. Pulling back, he turned Kurt over,
bringing him up so that his head rested on the pillow, sliding his thighs wide,
tucking his knees up on either side of his lean waist. David realized only then
that Kurt was still wearing the blindfold he'd tied on what seemed so long ago
now. Reaching up and pulling it off, he ran the fabric through his hands,
contemplating the length and looking Kurt over. He tied one end off around
Kurt's left knee, sliding the fabric underneath his shoulders, then up the
other side, bringing it up to tie around the right, securing them up and out of
the way. He then added more oil to his cock, sliding in once more, reaching
down to grip Kurt's dick, stroking it firmly.
For Kurt, it was like being immersed in cold water suddenly. Where he was
moments ago floating through waves of pleasure, his limbs loose and his nerves
singing with sensation, now he was all to aware of David thrusting in his ass,
his hand tightly wrapped around his cock, and his legs secured to his chest, a
tightness around his shoulders. And his back. Oh, Gods, his back. It was
screaming on fire, warm and sticky feeling, rubbing off on the sheets, his
hands lifted above his head, but not tied. "Master" It was a thready,
whimpering moan.
"Ahh... welcome back, Pet." taking his hand from Kurt's erection, he moved it
down to where he was sliding in and out, watching Kurt's face as he slid it
inside along with his dick, crooking it to tap at that most sensitive place,
stretching his rim open even further.
Kurt screamed, the sensation too much, and he came almost immediately, not even
waiting for permission. David watched him, how his muscles all seemed to tense,
the milky fluid shooting up his stomach and across his thighs where they were
spread open and tied down. He continued thrusting, not changing his pace, as
Kurt floated back down, his eyes still mostly unfocused. He moaned a little,
adorable in his post orgasm haze. "Master?"
"Yes, pet?" He twisted his hips, bringing an exhausted moan from Kurt.
"Can I have my legs loose, Sir? I can't reach you." His eyes were blinking
sweetly, and David could deny him nothing. He reached up, untying the knots and
rubbing gently at the marks left by the cloth.
Once released, Kurt wrapped his legs around David's waist, reaching his arms up
to surround his wide shoulders. He tugged, giggling a little when David seemed
to fall on top of him at the sudden movement. The kiss was dirty, full of
tongue, and teeth, and a deep heat. "Mmmmm... " Kurt hummed the sound against
his jaw. "You're safe." he tucked in, happy to let David continue fucking him
forever.
David felt that rush of sadness again, matched with the need to make Kurt
understand, so he wouldn't be shocked when it happened in -a glance to the
clock- ten minutes. "Pet, " He took a deep breath, pausing for a moment. "Kurt.
This didn't change anything, sweetling. It's nearly time, and I need you to
know that I'm so glad you came back, and that I've never felt so connected to
another person, alright?"
Kurt's eyes were narrowed. "No. No that's not right. We followed all the steps.
I made myself a blood sacrifice, and you sent my mind a'soar, and now we're
making love. It will work. It has to." His throat was getting thick, his
frustration mounting as David shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Kurt." He pressed his forehead to the fine collarbones that filled
his dreams, feeling a stray tear leak out.
"No. You're wrong. It will work. You'll see." He reached for David's face,
pulling him up and pressing small, frantic kisses to his lips. "It'll work,
because I came back, and I was in time, and I love you, and she said.." More
kisses, desperation mixed with tears.
David heard the words, felt the wetness as it mixed between their lips, making
their faces slide. He tightened his grip on Kurt's waist, and then it was too
much, and he was coming, coming, hearing the distant clang of the clock,
counting out twelve strikes, and as he faded back down, all he could see was
Kurt, all he could feel, or smell, or taste, was Kurt, and it was alright.
The chimes faded, and Kurt ran his hands up and down that wide back, suddenly
noticing a change. The hair felt different. "David?" No. It wasn't real. He
wasn't gone. Not like this. Kurt grunted at the effort, but was able to roll
them over, leaning up to look him over, hissing as the heavy, soft cock slid
out of his slick ass, come dribbling down his thigh. His eyes widened. He was
breathing, but... it was David, surely, but not quite... he was different...
the scars that had run across his face were missing, and the hair that covered
his muscles was there, but it was shorter, finer, and as his eyes fluttered
open, meeting Kurt's, he realized that they weren't the odd gold any longer.
They were, but it was mixed now with green, splotches of color blended
together. He asked again, "David?"
"Wh-? I'm not dead. Am I? Am I dead? Did I suffocate you when I died?"
Kurt huffed a surprised laugh. "No, you idiot. But you're different. I think we
really did it."
David looked down his front, noticing a few changes, and then he shoved Kurt to
the other side of the bed unceremoniously, lifting up to move to the looking
glass by the door, taking the lamp with him. "Oh sweet Venus, look at that."
His frame was still wide and muscular, but his hair had changed, and his hands
were less wide and furred, his legs just a bit shorter. When Kurt walked up
behind him, peeking over his shoulder at his reflection they both realized that
David had lost some height, making him just a bit taller than Kurt's moderate
height.
Kurt threw his arms around David's neck from behind, unknowingly mimicking the
way David had carried him earlier. "I told you we could do it."
David snorted in a breath, leaning forward to press his lips to Kurt's hands
where they rested on his collarbones. "So you did, Love. So you did."
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                                        
                                   EPILOGUE
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
                                        
Standing there behind him, Kurt had marveled at the physical changes, and the
lovely ways he was very much the same, as well. His hair, his eyes, and his
height, obviously, were major changes, but the things that Kurt loved the best,
his rough hands, wide shoulders and arms, his slightly crooked lower teeth, all
remained.
The body hair wasn't so bad, either. It was still present, and Kurt couldn't
wait to see what it felt like to have it all pressed against him, see if he
liked it better than before. Not that it really mattered. None of it mattered.
He'd loved David with scars on his face and yellow eyes, and he would love
David with this new, strikingly handsome face and greenish eyes as well. So
long as he was the same unaffected, silly, caring, selfless brute underneath it
all, that was all that mattered, because that self doubting brute belonged to
Kurt just as strongly as Kurt belonged to him in return.
They had fetched the tray of food from the hallway, feeding each other on the
floor by the fire. It seemed so romantic to Kurt that he nearly forgot about
the abrasions on his back. Right up until David had laid him on his back on the
rug, climbing over him upside down, guiding his cock into Kurt's mouth before
doing the same from above. Kurt had sucked until his jaw had gone slack with
his own orgasm, then smiled softly as David had come in spurts all over his
face, laughing softly as it was rubbed in by gentle hands, feeling it get
sticky and dry tacky. They had ventured down the stairs to the bathing chamber,
washing each other, and coming once more, grinding together in the hot bubbles.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
When they made it back to the dungeon room, it had been to collapse into the
bed, tangled together, Kurt making David smile when he'd laced their fingers
together and brought their combined thumbs to his mouth and had shamelessly
scooted his backside into David until he was comfortable, falling asleep almost
immediately. David had watched him sleep for a while, finally fading off to the
sound of Kurt's heavy, steady breathing, and the occasional squeak of his
suckling.
David had been awakened by Kurt sliding down onto his cock, facing his feet,
his raw back and ass on display where they were posed above him. He nearly
cried, feeling so at home, and yet so on edge. Kurt had put his hands to work
fondling their balls where they were pressed together, stroking his cock slowly
as he rocked. David sat up, bringing his hairy chest up to Kurt's back, letting
his hard nipples rub on that super sensitized flesh, loving the heat and
roughness of it. When Kurt had cried out at the attention, he had reached
around, grasping onto Kurt's nipples, tweaking them and pulling, rolling them
in his hands as he remembered doing so long ago in their bath. It didn't take
long before they were both desperately moving together, having rolled when Kurt
had run out of strength, David pounding into him from behind, until they had
both left the earth, then crashed back down together, falling asleep in a
tangle of limbs, replete until they had enough energy to do it again, and
again.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
When they had finally surfaced from the bowels of the castle, it was to much
rejoicing from the staff. Congratulations and feasting, and half a dozen
messengers sent out, taking the good news far and wide. They had celebrated
with the estate people, then had retreated to the master suite, where they had
celebrated together again.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
David woke in the wee hours of the morning, noting the cooling sheets in the
pre-dawn light. He heard soft singing, and followed it into the sitting room
where Kurt was sitting in front of the fire he'd built up, wrapped in a sheet,
holding a tiny ball of fur in his hand.
Kurt looked up when David entered, smiling at him, and motioning for him to
join them. "I missed him. I worried that he wouldn't be fed, but I see that I
was in vain." He looked a little sad. "I suppose he didn't need me after all."
David wrapped Kurt in his arms from behind, reaching forward with a fingertip
to rub gently at the creature's head. "I don't know about that." He flicked the
tiny bow that still adorned his foot. "If he hadn't been wearing this, I
wouldn't have known to share with him, and where would he be, even now?
Certainly not being serenaded in the master suite of the castle, that's for
sure."
Kurt twisted, meeting David's new green eyes in the flickering firelight. "You
did? Really?" At his responding nod, Kurt quickly set the mouse down near the
wood pile and twisted, kissing David hard. "You are simply the best man, do you
know that?"
David laughed, kissing Kurt back. "I think that most of the kingdom would
disagree with you." He pointed to himself. "Demon Prince, remember?"
Kurt turned, discarding the sheet in favor of climbing fully into David's lap,
straddling his legs and taking his face between his hands. "Well, they know
nothing, obviously. And now you have me to remind you." He leaned in for a
kiss, this time with purpose, and then they were too busy for talking.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                             AFTER THE FAIRY TALE
 
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
                                        
David's uncle hadn't been very happy when he realized that the curse had been
broken. In fact, he had yelled, and thrown a priceless vase, and had punched
the messenger in the face. He then had taken his closest advisers and his
mistress, and had fled the kingdom. Kurt had worried about possible uprising,
but when they'd gotten news that his Uncle had taken a drunken fall from his
horse and died, they had quietly buried him, covered all the mirrors, and worn
black for a month.
In the weeks between the Prince Regent's disappearance and Sir David's
coronation, there was much to be done. He and his household, (as he wouldn't
hear of being without his closest and most loyal servants,) had had to move
from the country estate, and into the capital. His uncle's personal possessions
were packed up and relocated to storage, and the space re-allocated. Kurt had
worn a secret smile as he'd overseen the unpacking and re-assembling of the toy
room from the Master Suite at the old castle. He, of course, had come along.
His Grandmother had learned of the ending of the curse, and had quickly
borrowed a carriage from a friend, as Kurt had taken her only vehicle suitable
for a long trip. She had decided to bypass the landslide, (which was still
causing much difficulty in travel,) by going directly to the Royal Palace.
Initially, she'd been turned away by the castle staff, but once she'd been
spotted by one of David's personal entourage, had been quickly allowed
entrance. She had swept herself up to her less than impressive height and sent
scathing looks at each of the doormen with a sniff.
Once she had been reunited with her grandson, she had exclaimed over his bright
complexion and shining eyes, which they found helpful when David walked into
the room holding a cane in one hand and a whip in the other, not looking up,
but studying the objects in his hands.
"Where did you want these, again, love? They were in the bedchamber, but I
thought they were meant to be in the toy roo- Oh dear Gods. I'm so sorry,
Baroness." he reached around himself, trying to hide the items in his hands
behind his back, quite unsuccessfully.
She only laughed, bringing a hand to his cheek and exclaiming how he reminded
her of her own Finnaeus when she was young. "But don't you dare call me
Baroness when we're alone, young man. We are soon to be family, are we not? At
least that is what I heard murmurs of as I traveled." She glanced between them
shrewdly. "It's not every day that the new King petitions the courts to allow
him to marry his male companion."
David blushed, glancing up at Kurt, still not sure what to do with his hands,
or the implements in them. Kurt only raised a brow and tried not to smile in
mischief.
"No, no. I shall call you David, and I shall be Grandmother, or simply Rachel
will do, if that will not. No more of this baroness nonsense. I won't have it."
She leaned closer to David, voice a mock whisper, "And don't think that
Finnaeus and I were unaware of the joys of a whip, boy. I am not so much a
blushing maiden." With a kiss to both of their cheeks, she had asked to be
shown to her rooms to rest, promising that the rest of Kurt's wardrobe were
downstairs, waiting to be delivered to him.
David looked to Kurt in her wake, mouth hung wide. "That woman..."
Kurt smiled wide, dimples making an appearance. "I know, isn't she lovely? A
little overbearing, of course, but so earnest that I can't help but adore her."
He shrugged, moving to locate his belongings.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                                  A proposal
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
                                        
The first time David brought up the possibility of him marrying a man, there
had been laughter from around the council room. It had quickly sobered when
they had seen the stony expression and displeased air. There had been much
tittering and posing, but the response had been unanimous, that it simply
wasn't possible.
                                 ~o0o~o0o~o0o~
The second time it was brought up, it was in response to a fawning Duchess as
she pressed the new sovereign to take notice of her young daughters, displayed
almost lewdly in order to gain his attention. He had merely raised a brow and
pronounced that until he could marry his love, he would remain unwed. The woman
had smiled cattily, and made some comment about the whims of the heart, fickle
spirits, and longing loins. He had promptly shut her up by responding that his
love for Sir Hummel was not fickle or a whim, and until his companion could be
at his side to reign, he would remain alone on the throne. The woman had gasped
hard, completely shocked at his casual admittance to his homosexual
relationship and it's solidity and importance. She had made her way quickly
from the court, dragging her simpering daughters along.
~o0o~o0o~o0o~
The third time, David was in conference with three of the highest members of
the council, discussing the coming coronation, David's re-immersion into
society, and the role his companion played in all of those things. He refused
to budge on his insistence that he would marry Sir Hummel or no other, and the
men were becoming agitated.
"But Highness, if the other nations should decry us?"
"For what? We are a peaceful nation, known for our cloth and our high level of
respect for mankind, giving love one to another. Do you imply that my being
allowed to marry the person I love would besmirch that reputation somehow?
Because I fail to see how it would be so. I see no sense in marrying someone of
the opposite sex in a blatant lie, proving myself to be an easily swayed
simpleton who prefers cock when his wife isn't looking." He shook his head at
them, rolling his eyes at their combined gasp of shock at his crude reference.
"Gentlemen, I am not inferring that you should leave your wives for a stable
boy, but I refuse to give up my happiness that of Sir Hummel on account of your
bigotry. So if you plan on my producing an heir, and you know that given my
background I am quite familiar with the craft, and I can tell you assuredly
that there are methods, it would behoove you to speak with your brethren of the
council, as it is in all of our best interests for the King to procreate, is it
not? Aye. So you all had best follow through with your end of this, and
consider your priorities carefully. I will not be trifled with." And with that,
he stood, gave them all a firm nod, and took his leave.
~o0o~o0o~o0o~
The first time Kurt heard about David's decision that they would marry was at a
banquet being given in David's honor by a close childhood of his Father and
Uncle. He vaguely remembered him from his own childhood, a falling out when his
Father's temper had been aggravated, and his Uncle following his Father's lead.
The older gentleman, the Marquis of Sheldon, had been a champion of David being
able to spend his life with a partner of his own choosing, was standing up to
give a speech, and it was the final line that had Kurt's jaw dropping, and also
very nearly his wine as well. "So let us all raise a glass to His Highness,
Prince David, may he and his companion and future husband, Sir Hummel, live
long and happily together, and may their reign prove fruitful and blessed."
Kurt had swung around to face David quickly, the drink in his glass sloshing
dangerously. "What?" it was a gasp, nearly silent, but David saw it on his lips
easily enough.
David didn't respond to Kurt directly, instead raising his glass back to their
host. "Thank you, Sheldon. Though I have to admit that your congratulations are
a bit premature, as I haven't had the opportunity to ask Sir Hummel properly
yet, and the council remains silent on their stance on our companionship."
Sheldon had been shocked and a little concerned, until he caught sight of
Kurt's look of wide eyed wonder where it was directed at the Prince. Then he
laughed reflexively. "Well, if I may recommend it, Your Highness, I think you
might see fit to ask him finally. I hardly think he would deny you."
David had finally turned to Kurt, taking in his look of pure adoration and shy
hope. "Well, the man speaks sense, I think." He set his glass down on the
table, reaching for Kurt's where it dangled from his fingers, moving from where
they stood at the high table, positioning himself so he was to the side of the
table, with no obstacles between himself and Kurt, while still giving a good
view to the room of spectators and guests. "Sir Hummel, if I may, I bid thee
consider my troth, and if it not be allowed us, to consent to spend all your
days, "
"AND NIGHTS!" Shouted from somewhere in the crowd. The entire room burst into
laughter, and while David cracked a grin, he refused to be waylaid now.
He held up his hand until the room was silent again. "Kurtis Hummel, son of
Elizabeth and Burtram, will you live by my side and allow me to love you, and
worship you, and be my King Consort when they allow it be so, being a Father
with me, and my companion forever?"
Kurt was crying in earnest now, sure his face was all red splotches and gross
tears, but found himself nodding and reaching for David, where he'd fallen to
his knees at some point during his recital. David was up and had Kurt in his
arms within seconds, holding to him tightly for a long, tight hug, then
releasing for only long enough to readjust, putting their mouths together in a
desperate kiss, eventually breaking apart to the roar of cheering and stomping
and applause.
The people were won, but the council wouldn't prove as easy to convince.
 
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