Final Fantasy VIII 1. Intro: King of Class, King of Crass

**Disclaimer: I do not own these delectable boys or the fandom of Final Fantasy VIII, nor do I collect any profit from these works of fiction, only pleasure.**

**Summary: In Galbadia the slave market is a prosperous one. How does Squall take his new servitude in foreign lands with the most renowned slave tamer, Seifer Almasy? Does he submit to his master? Or fight?**

**Master of Slaves**

**By: Baby Chiba**

**Chapter 1: Introducing the King of Class and the King of Crass**

In ancient Galbadia at the height of their imperialism, the slave trade was prosperous. With an indomitable militaristic force the nation soon had an influx of prisoners flooding the jails. It became more economically viable to turn the results of their imperialistic feats into a market.

Merchants would sort through the conquered people and take the most suited ones for servitude to the market to auction, sell, and trade. These merchants became known as slave traders. The more renowned slave traders would accompany the military on their conquests to secure the best batch of slaves before they reached the ports of Galbadia where it became a circus of merchants fighting over slaves.

It was a thriving market. To own exotic slaves from lands away became a symbol of high status. People that were able to tame these conquered people into obedient slaves became revered as talented trainers and were sought after to domesticate these slaves.

Because most slaves brought right off the market needed domestication the smarter slave traders would be in bed with slave trainers. The slaves would go from the ports to the trainers before they flooded the market. A percentage of all profits from the traders went to the trainers, but because the traders could guarantee the slaves obedience, the prices could be raised. And these became the most sought after slaves.

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The market was bustling. The aristocrats littered the streets like rats, frantically dashing from trader to trader, trying to secure the best of slaves. There was much excitement at a particular stage.

" 15,000 Gil!"

" 16,000 Gil!"

A man casually propped against a pillar whistled as the extravagant prices spilled heedlessly from the lips of hungry aristocrats. His emerald eyes caught with the trader cavorting on stage, following the voices that called out to him. Violet eyes locked with emerald and they sent him a wily smile, he returned the gesture with a tip of his hat.

"And you kan guarantee his obedience Mr. Kinneas?" A shrill voice broke the auctioning with a thick accent of origins unknown even to the greatest linguist.

" Ah, Countess Ultimecia! Yes, my lady, I can." Mr. Kinneas spoke with confidence, bowing with feigned reverence and taking off his hat.

" For this kind of money I better be able to use my slave as a table if I should please!" Countess Ultimecia chimed, her tone condescending.

This elicited several chuckles from among the crowd.

" My good Madam, you could use this slave as a footrest if you should so desire." Mr. Kinneas countered; subtle mockery could be caught in the undertones of his rebuttal.

The crowd laughed.

The Countess, not one to be affronted, wrinkled her nose in disgust and shut her fan. " And why should we trust your word, my, you're a sleazy merchant after all, you'd say anything if the price was right!" The distress and contempt she held for his status was apparent in her voice.

Mr. Kinneas perfect countenance never faltered if fact his smile only grew brighter and he said, " I trust you are familiar with Sir Seifer Almasy?"

" But of kourse! That's a household name for anyone with slaves!" Countess Ultimecia snapped, offended that this merchant would question common knowledge, and by extension, her status.

" Well, Sir Almasy puts his name behind this slave's obedience for he tamed this one personally!" With this Mr. Kinneas gestured to the man leaning against the pillar with a sweep of his hat.

Many of the people in the crowd followed the gesture, including the Countess; Seifer simply nodded and tipped his hat as a half smirk pulled at his lips.

" There you have it, my guarantee!" Mr. Kinneas bowed to the audience and for good measure tugged at the chains attached to the slave's collar, forcing the slave in bondage to bow as well.

" Well, if he's gone through the Almasy household then I believe it!" The Countess said, and then added quickly, " 18,000 Gil for the slave!"

" Sold! To the lovely Countess for 18,000 Gil!" Mr. Kinneas yelled pointing to the Countess out in the crowd.

The air was filled with disgruntled groans loaded with curses toward the Countess who merely grinned smugly.

The man with the emerald eyes pushed off the pillar and sauntered over to where his partner and the Countess were having their business transaction.

" My apologies Mr. Kinneas, I had no idea you were associated with Sir Almasy." Ultimecia lisped, her accent stronger if possible now that she was in closer proximity.

" Not at all Countess. Seifer Almasy exclusively trains all of my slaves, I trust no other trainer." Mr. Kinneas spoke smoothly with his Galbadian drawl, counting the gil handed over by the Countess.

" As you shouldn't! Isn't that right Sir Almasy?" The Countess battered her lashes as Seifer approached, momentarily forgetting all about her recent purchase and the merchant counting cash in front of her.

" I can speak for no other Master's, but I've never had a complaint regarding the slaves that have gone through my home, nor do I anticipate one in the near future." Seifer replied, his low baritone voice reverberating through the thick stench in the air, which could be none other than the Countess's pungent perfume.

" Surely you must have some secret in your training, no other Master has had every slave leave their home so completely submissive." Her golden eyes flirted with Seifer begging him to enlighten her.

" I have a sorceress on hand to bewitch them." Seifer grinned without missing a beat.

The Countess's response was to throw her head back and laugh, a shrill high-pitched laugh that sent chills down your spine.

" Goodness child, stop it! You jest too liberally!" The Countess spoke once she stopped laughing, though her eyes gleamed with something unspoken.

" Well Countess, it's been a pleasure doing business with you." Mr. Kinneas finally broke through the exclusive conversation and bowed again to the Countess.

" Likewise…" She all but hissed like a snake, tugging her newly acquired slave by his neck chains.

" Good day Sir Almasy, I trust I'll be seeing more of you in the near future." Ultimecia all but sung with feigned sweetness.

" Good day to you as well my lady." Seifer professed just as sweetly with a curt bow.

She ambled off with a not so subtle swing of her hips, her slave in tow behind her, but not without giving Seifer one last glance and a suggestive wink.

Mr. Kinneas shivered as he caught the look and turned toward Seifer. One look spoke volumes between the two about the encounter. He could never understand why the Countess was so fond of Seifer, but he was too afraid to ask his friend, afraid of the answers he would receive. But one glance down at the gil in his hand was enough to brighten his mood tenfold and wipe the slate clean.

" You my friend have made me one happy man!" Irvine said enthusiastically, slapping the wad of cash against Seifer's chest.

" You mean a rich man." Seifer corrected his emerald eyes gleaming.

" No matter that your name draws in the richest ego's in the city as well!" Irvine teased alluding to the slander dealt by the Countess.

" An audience full of pompous ego's wouldn't be enough to dilute the crass that comes from your lips Irvine. I only try to offer some semblance of class with my presence." Seifer retorted.

" Call me the King of Crass then! But no matter! This calls for celebration! Let us find the prettiest whores and the most expensive tavern!" Irvine bellowed, throwing his arm around Seifer's white clad shoulders as the pair began to stroll off down the bustling market streets. Despite himself, Seifer was smirking broadly at Irvine.

" I prefer to not drink our fortune away." Seifer teased sarcastically, casting a knowing side-glance at Irvine.

" Then fuck it away we shall! To the bordello!" His violet eyed friend insisted.

**TBC...**

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**Author's notes: I didn't intend to make an introductory chapter before the real first one, but I thought it would be nice to give some sort of perspective on the Alternate Universe and some background to Irvine's character. This chapter was mostly focused on him, but he's just so much fun to characterize! And I couldn't resist the Ultimecia cameo as the arrogant Countess.**

**Now if you wanna see some YAOI between boys, REVIEW ME!**


	2. A Squall onto himself

**Disclaimer: I do not own these delectable boys or the fandom of Final Fantasy VIII, nor do I collect any profit from these works of fiction, only pleasure.**

**Summary: In Galbadia the slave market is a prosperous one. How does Squall take his new servitude in foreign lands with the most renowned slave tamer, Seifer Almasy? Does he submit to his master? Or fight?**

* * *

**Master of Slaves**

**By: Baby Chiba**

**Chapter 2: A Squall onto himself  
**

A tempest waged.

The winds were restless. Boreas and Auster drew swords, igniting a bloodless battle. Their rivalry invited the black clouds to cloak the skies and frigid rains to flood the lands.

The seas foamed and surged as the ships docked at the Galbadian port. A heavy foreboding lingered inside as well as out, an ominous reflection of the storm erupting inside the ship.

Emerald eyes gazed pensively out the window from the safety of his manor, golden eyebrows creasing in disapproval.

He had cabin fever.

With no slaves to train and Irvine's departure two weeks ago to Balamb, he was lacking his usually forms of entertainment.

A timid rapping on his parlor door disrupted his train of thought. Tearing his eyes from the window he saw one of his servants nervously peak her head through the door.

" Master, Sir Kinneas is here. He requests an audience immediately." The servant girl announced softly.

At the trademark smirk that wound its way across her master's lips, a prominent blush crept up the servant's checks and neck.

" Of course he does, presumptuous bastard…" Seifer muttered to himself, the twinkling in his eyes contradicting his words.

Standing from his desk he locked eyes with his servant, " Thank you, you're dismissed for the night."

" Oh, thank you Sir!" The girl bowed enthusiastically, stumbling backwards on her own heels before dashing out, quite embarrassed.

Seifer chuckled full well knowing the effect he had on the servant girl. That same inexplicable charisma earned him the reputation of the most renowned slave trainer in all of Galbadia. Although, as fulfilling as this power was for Seifer, he had become rather bored with it as of late.

The initial attraction to taming the wildly uncivilized slaves was the challenge it presented. It was an impossibly daunting task and yet he had mastered it, the art of human domestication. There was nothing more pleasing to his ego then the utter submission of his slaves. However, there hadn't been a real challenge since the conquests of Centra more than a year ago!

He was not in need of money; his financial situation had been secured by birthright. This led him to consider retiring as a slave trainer. After all, he only did what pleased him. Irvine was the driving reason he continued with this business as of late, but he was finding that even Irvine was not enough.

The clicking of his heels on the marble staircase informed his visitor of his descent. At once violet eyes peered up and a devious smile slipped easily into place. Seifer caught those violet eyes trembling with delight, and arched an eyebrow in question.

Irvine, fairly acquainted with Seifer's every gesture replied with, " I have a present for you, my friend."

Seifer scoffed.

" Experience tells me I'm not going to want this present."

Irvine removed his hat and shook off the clinging droplets of rain.

" You're gonna want this…follow me." Irvine sniggered, his Galbadian accent particularly thick.

Seifer also knew from experience that his friend's drawl only came out that thick when he was passionate about something, or overly excited. It made Seifer all the more apprehensive about this 'present'.

Despite his better instincts, Seifer was beyond curious to know, and so blindly followed Irvine through the familiar confines of his manor to the main hall.

Before him stood a tall cage, its contents shrouded by a thick sodden cloth draped over the top that threatened to collapse through the chain-link. Whatever lay confined inside the cage was restless for it rattled and thrashed the steel bars with a vengeance. Beside the cage stood two of Irvine's accomplices, two equally wet, burly men whose reputations preceded them, Raijin and Zell. They each had a firm hand on the cage, perhaps to prevent its inhabitant from knocking it over.

Irvine stopped by the side of the cage and fisted the damp cloth, facing Seifer with a most devilish grin.

" I just got back today from the conquests in Balamb. I didn't see any quality over there worth shipping back; however, I was fortunate enough to spot a real diamond in the rough. I thought I'd have you take a look at this one first." Irvine drawled before ripping the cloth from the cage, revealing a sight that left Seifer breathless.

"…Oh…he's a beauty…" Seifer managed to all but whisper, words seeming to have lost their place.

Emerald eyes were held captive by a tempest of gray. And as surely as the tempest in his eyes waged, so did he, thrashing about violently within his metallic prison. Unruly chocolate tresses plastered across his forehead and finely sculpted cheeks swayed with his every movement. Beads of rain clung to alabaster flesh that trembled with resistance. Flesh without blemish save for the bondage biting into his skin. The bondage he struggled incessantly against.

It deeply disturbed Seifer to see such a beauty marred by thick links of metal, especially in the case of this boy. It seemed Irvine and company had taken unnecessary precautions in restraining the youth. Rusty chains wound their way rudely around his neck and torso, pulling his arms painfully behind his back. Though gagged and bound Seifer was never more enraptured by a sight in his existence. He was exquisite.

Gray eyes steeled upon him with a wicked vehemence, regarding him with utter disdain. Seifer could almost feel the judgment the boy passed on him for merely being on the opposing side of the metal box. It made Seifer shiver.

Seeing the rare admiration etched in his friends' eyes, Irvine smiled smugly, pleased with the outcome.

" I thought you'd like him. He's a feisty one, just your type. We couldn't get his clothes off. It took the three of us to subdue him." Irvine spoke, his forehead creased as he mentally replayed the scene.

Seifer raked a hand through his hair, feeling the urge to fix his already immaculate appearance. The intensity with which the youth was glaring at Seifer left him feeling as if he were falling apart at the seams.

" I'm afraid he won't do well on the market…he's got the heart of a lion, but no one likes a rebellious slave." Irvine continued, smoothing the stray damp locks off his forehead.

Seifer snapped out of his reverie.

" Then why capture him if you knew he wasn't marketable?" He arched his brow, tearing his gaze from the boy beauty to Irvine.

Irvine shrugged meekly, his eyes begging the very question, " If you'd have seen him, would you have let him go?"

The smirk Seifer gave him was answer enough. Irvine laughed, stealing a long glance at the boy.

" I figured if anyone could tame him you could…if not for the market, then for your own entertainment…"

If possible Seifer's grin broadened as Irvine's words struck a realization in him. The boy behind the bars seemed to perceive this change in Seifer and furrowed his brows in response.

" Well… you gonna take him?" Irvine implored.

A moment of silence past between the two friends before Seifer answered with complete sincerity, " How could I not?"

" Excellent!" Irvine clapped his hands together, " but heed my advice, keep him in bondage until you're positive he's tame, and even then, exercise discretion!" He warned, wagging his finger at Seifer.

Seifer rolled his eyes, " Irvine, he's just a kid."

" You say that now, but you'll be singing a different tune if he sticks his claws into you…"

And to emphasize his point Irvine bared his chest exposing a plethora of angry red welts and gashes.

Seifer threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh, " kid's got spirit. What's his name?"

Gray eyes locked with emerald causing the boy to still, but his chest heaved with excursion behind his restraints.

" It's Squall." Irvine replied motioning for his two companions to open the cage and prepare themselves for another battle.

A cunning grin curled Seifer's lips with a meaning left unspoken, " How appropriate…"

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**TBC…**

**Authors notes: I apologize for the short chapters, but I stop them where it seems appropriate for a cliffhanger heh… Now that the exposition is out of the way they should be longer… and much juicer… ^.^**

**Stay tuned if you want to see some delicious boys going at it!!**

**And do me the honor of REVIEWING!**


	3. It begins with Hide and Seek

Disclaimer: I do not own these delectable boys or the fandom of Final Fantasy VIII, nor do I collect any profit from these works of fiction, only pleasure.

Summary: In Galbadia the slave market is a prosperous one. How does Squall take his new servitude in foreign lands with the most renowned slave tamer, Seifer Almasy? Does he submit to his master? Or fight?

* * *

Master of Slaves

By: Baby Chiba

Chapter 3: It begins with Hide and Seek

Dedicated to: Everyone who has reviewed so far!

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He bore the semblance of a caged animal.

Instincts prevailing over logic in his desperate dance for escape. It made him dangerous.

And Seifer would have him.

A fire coursed through his loins.

He'd never felt so alive.

Jade eyes dilated as he watched the two bulks of muscle struggling to calm the feral beast. He shivered with the anticipation of what lay in store for him.

" Struggling is futile, Squall." Seifer teased, his voice husky.

Squall visibly cringed at the use of his name on the lips of his captor. Irvine even arched a brow at the usage. In all his time delivering slaves to Seifer he never dared utter one's name. To Irvine's ears it felt like the greatest transgression. It made everything too personal…

As Squall stood strained between two pillars of muscle pulling him in opposite directions by his bondage Irvine asked wearily, " Where should I have the boys shackle him?"

" No where." Seifer snapped, " Give him to me." He presented his open palm, as if Irvine were merely dropping candy in his hand!

Irvine furrowed his brows, clearly troubled, " Seifer… I don't think you can handle this one by yourself."

" Give him to me Irvine…" An austere edge crept into his voice.

" Forget your ego for a moment, you can't-" Irvine tried earnestly to dissuade his friend from making a grave mistake.

" Irvine!"

But it was all in vain. He couldn't defy that tone.

Irvine looked between his cohorts and Seifer's upturned palm and sighed, " I warned you…" Before gripping the boy's chains and placing them in Seifer's hands, the act more profound then either party would like to admit.

The metal chains were cold in Seifer's hand, yet a foreign warmth filled him. The boy had ceased his struggling but that only reached as far as his limbs, for his eyes still burned with a fiery passion. Perhaps it was this deceptive stillness that prompted Seifer to do what he did, or perhaps he had an entirely ulterior motive, whatever the reasoning, Seifer unhooked the leash from Squall's neck. The source that kept him linked to Seifer.

Irvine was about to fiercely protest, and just as soon as he'd opened his mouth, Squall bolted.

Irvine glared at Seifer, all his hard work amounting to naught.

" Seifer, I told you!" Irvine shouted incredulously, his feet already carrying him down the hall where the still bound youth scurried off.

Seifer chuckled in his reply, " let him go."

Irvine froze in his spot, as did his two cohorts. He snapped his head towards Seifer, his face contorted in confusion.

" Are you dense?!"

Seifer spoke calmly, mirth glistening his eyes, " In case you've forgotten this manor is more complicated than a damn labyrinth. He won't find his way out in his frantic haste."

Irvine's disposition eased slightly at the truth in Seifer's words. However, he still believed it was an unwise decision to unleash him so abruptly.

" And to think he wants to play already!" Seifer snickered.

" You're a real sadist ya know? The kid's gonna have a heart attack before you've had him even a day. I'm starting to regret my decision to give him to ya." Irvine drawled in his thick accent.

Irvine scratched his head, dumbfounded by his friend's questionable behavior.

" And I couldn't be more thankful." Seifer responded jovially.

Irvine shrugged, giving up, " He's your problem now." And then as an afterthought as he placed his hat on his head, " Send for me if you need me."

Seifer bowed his head slightly and winked at his friend before the trio took their leave. As the door was opened and the three of them walked out Irvine yelled back in, " I'm leaving the cage!"

Though Seifer heard he didn't turn around to acknowledge the voice.

With the confident strides of a predator Seifer stalked through the long winding halls of his manor, a lecherous smirk plastered on his face.

He was on the hunt.

In the distance he heard the faint rattling of chains, and quickly changed his direction, picking up his pace, but not out of worry.

He turned a corner away from the source of the sound into a dark room…it was time to have a little fun.

Meanwhile, Squall was frantically searching for an exit, or some door that was already open for he had no use of his hands. After what must have been three twists down two different corridors he finally stumbled upon a dark room with an open door! He had no plans other than to prolong his impending fate.

Entering the room he kept his eyes trained on the door, watching vigilantly for any sign of Seifer approaching. He leaned his heavy head against a wall, breathing heavily from adrenaline and his run. He sealed his lips trying to conceal his panting, lest someone heard.

" You know, hide and seek is a favorite game of mine…" A deep baritone voice rumbled.

Squall's breath hitched and his heart sank as he recognized it as Seifer's, and wasted no time dashing out of the room once more. Bewildered at how he had managed to get inside the room without Squall noticing.

Seifer laughed but made no move to run after him.

Left, right, left, left.

Squall was lost within these walls. He'd never felt so suffocated inside a building before. The manor felt like an even bigger box to imprison him.

His eyes darted every which way as he ran. His divided focus led him right into a servant girl knocking them both over. Stormy eyes met with black doe eyes filled with surprise. He paused but a fraction of a second before scrambling to his feet, which proved a difficult task since his footing kept slipping under the puddles of water dripping from him. Just as he'd gotten to his feet he heard Seifer's laughter as he approached them.

Squall growled deep in his throat before running off again.

Seifer was still laughing as he stopped in front of the same servant girl that had announced Irvine's arrival. The look of alarm on her features and the blush that crept back into her cheeks when Seifer extended his hand to help her up elicited a stronger laugh from him.

" My apologies Miss Heartily, my new slave is very excitable." Seifer explained as he hoisted her off her bottom.

At the contact her blush deepened if possible. She stammered to reply, " it's quite alright my lord!" Then bowed, however, her master was already halfway down the hall, no doubt in search of the aforementioned slave.

She stood riveted in her spot for a few moments, wistfully watching her master's retreating figure. Jealousy swept through her as she replayed the event in her mind. She had been loyally serving the Almasy family since she was ten, and had been in love with Seifer for just as long. No matter what she did, she never begged the attention from her master that she secretly yearned. He had always been kind to her, but he was kind to all of his servants because he was a good man. He even treated his slaves humanely! Sometimes she coveted their positions. If she had been a slave brought over from lands far away he would have given her amble attention. However, her lot in life was not as such. Though she had never seen her master quite so animated over a mere slave before. And for that she boiled with envy towards the boy that bumped her in the hall. She clenched her fists, no, she boiled with hatred towards him… and then she slipped in the puddle of rain he left behind.

Back in pursuit, Seifer was hot on Squall's tail; all he had to do was follow the convenient trail of wet footprints. Suddenly the footprints disappeared. Seifer halted.

" Come out come out wherever you are." Seifer called out into the open.

Resorting to desperate tactics Squall found himself huddled under table in the drawing room. The tablecloth that hung over the sides hid him well. He held his breath as he heard already familiar boots take a step closer and closer. His moves were dangerously calculating. He stopped right before the table where Squall was hiding. From beneath the thin clothe anxious eyes watched. He heartbeat thudded loudly in his chest, he was sure Seifer could hear it. Then the boots walked away. Squall bowed his head in relief.

" Found you!" The cloth was ripped up and Seifer's leering face appeared.

Squall jumped from his kneeling position under the table and rolled out the other side, away from Seifer's advancing hands. He rolled to his feet, his stance ready for action. Seifer stood in the same stance, the table separating them.

Seifer made a feigned move to the left, which caused Squall to jump to the right. He sniggered and made a move to the right, and Squall to the left. He was toying with him. Squall slit his eyes, anger reigning over him. Seifer also narrowed his eyes and in one clean motion threw the table to the side, leaving an open space to lunge at his prey.

And they both lunged, one playfully, the other with intent to maim. They clashed and fell to the side, Seifer with his arms wound around Squall. Hard bodies crashed to the floor and slid from the momentum. Squall lashed out and kneed Seifer in the stomach. Seifer let out a grunt but scrambled atop Squall's thrashing body, straddling his chest. Squall bucked up as if he were seizing. He growled behind his gag.

" Submit." Seifer ground out through a tight smirk in his effort to pin the boy down.

That one word made Squall's world go red. He would never submit! Finding an uncanny flexibility in the moment Squall brought his legs up, hitched them around Seifer neck, and pushed him down. Shocked, Seifer fell backwards off of Squall in a tangle of limbs. Somehow his prey detangled his limbs, rolled to his feet and was off again before Seifer managed to recover from the attack.

Seifer square on his ass stared in awe at the shadow of the boy already down another corridor. He brought his hand up gingerly to touch his neck. It had knocked the wind out of him. He contemplated his next course of action. He would have to resort to more extreme measures, just for tonight. He hadn't expected such a challenge. He grinned despite himself.

Squall found himself winding back through the labyrinth. He cursed the architect of the manor. Observing his surroundings he noted that he was in the servants passage, mainly because the passage was lacking in decadent color and décor evident throughout the entire manor. He must be close to an exit then! The hallway was dark and narrow, lit only by scattered candlelight that danced across the walls. Almost there, he could taste his freedom. He saw light at the end of the passage. It must be daylight! Closer and closer, just a few more steps and he'd be free! His heart beat faster threatening to implode in his chest.

And just then boots stepped out from a side passage and intercepted him.

Emerald eyes flashed out in the gloom and strong arms wound around him from behind, so tight they threatened to strangle the breath from him. They pulled him into the side passage and against a hard chest. Squall's heart sank, a sickening feeling taking over. He was so close.

And so he fought.

He lashed and kicked out until a hand with a damp cloth came over his nose.

His eyes went wide in horror.

Frantic.

He couldn't help but inhale sharply as he fought ferociously against the body and hand restraining him.

It couldn't end like this!

It couldn't!

Panic.

He whipped his head from side to side, desperately trying to shake the hand from his nose.

The pungent odor of the chemicals surged through his nasal passages, choking him.

He tasted blood in his mouth.

Suffocating.

His eyes twitched.

He kicked and it connected with his captor's shins, but his captor only tightened his grip. The hand squeezed muffled groans and choked noises from his gagged mouth. He tried to regain his footing but his wet boots kept sliding against the slippery floor.

He felt his limbs grow heavy and his struggling became sluggish. And though his body slowed, his mind was ever racing. Stormy eyes were hidden behind heavy lids and the last thing he heard before he slipped into a reluctant darkness was a deep, but gentle voice whispering to him.

" Game over."

And darkness descended.

* * *

When the veil of darkness was finally lifted Squall found himself laying flat on his back.

His eyes fluttered open and he jerked up, instantly regretting it. He inhaled sharply.

Dizziness overwhelmed him. His head throbbed. A wave of nausea washed over him.

He groaned letting his eyes slid close again. He brought his trembling hand up to rest on his sweaty forehead. His bondage had been removed.

Despite his state he jerked up again, the thought of escape still burning in his head.

And he acted too soon. His bondage had been removed; save for the neck shackles that snapped his head back as he tried to pull away from the bed.

The room started spinning violently and he bit back bile fighting its way to the forefront. The chemicals still surged through his body, immobilizing him far better than any shackles. The effects of the drugs kept him a shivering, sweaty mess.

He brought a knee up and the robe that had been covering his skin slipped to the side exposing his pale thigh.

Robe?

Where were his clothes?! Or what was left of them anyway!

He threw the robe open to reveal his nudity to himself. His eyes went wide at the revelation that Seifer must have stripped him and put the robe on him! A combination of rage and humiliation colored his cheeks.

" Welcome back."

The voice startled Squall and he immediately covered his nudity with the plush robe. He located the source of the voice at the foot of his bed, obscured in the shadows of the dimly lit room.

Seifer let out a small laugh, " I'm not so sadistic that I'd let my new pet catch his dead of a cold."

The said pet growled a low and menacing growl, " I'm not your pet!"

" No, not yet, but you will be." A sure reply.

He couldn't see Seifer but he could feel the bastard smirking through the haze. It ignited a tempest of resentment and he dually trembled.

" I'm a fucking human! You can't do this!" Squall spat, hostility dripping from his lips.

His hands clumsily clawed at the shackle around his neck. His motor skills were still impaired, but he exerted them to their extent.

" Trust me, I can…it's been done." Another haughty reply.

He was taunting his prey.

He stood from his seat in the corner of the room where he had vigilantly watched the rhythmic rise and fall of Squall's unsteady breathing for the past hour. He ambled to Squall's side and gingerly reached his hand out.

" Don't touch me." Squall barked, his voice crackling.

He made a move to kick out at Seifer but he couldn't will his limbs to lift. They felt increasingly heavy. He knew he should stop his struggling lest he black out again, but his pride wouldn't allow him to be violated without a fight.

" Relax, come here." Seifer's warm hand cupped Squall's cheek.

He immediately thrashed his head to one side, pangs of pain tearing a choked sound from his throat.

The towering form above him furrowed his brows and tried again, getting the same adverse reaction.

" Fine, then I take it you don't want any water." Seifer said, still eyeing the beautiful writhing form on the bed.

Squall reflexively swallowed, feeling for the first time that his throat was like sandpaper. In spite of himself he stopped struggling and looked up accusingly at Seifer who only chuckled.

He bent down and gently lifted Squall's head, putting the cup of water to his lips.

Squall eagerly gulped the cool liquid which immediately soothed his scratchy throat.

" Good boy."

In his haste some of the water had escaped his lips and dribbled down his chin. Seifer took the empty glass away and with the softest of touches wiped the liquid from Squall's chin.

The touch sent Squall reeling. He deeply resented that this man could do the cruelest of things to him yet touch him so gently, a touch reserved for lovers!

" Chloroform will do that to you, dehydrate you when it gets into your nasal passages." Seifer spoke softly, setting the glass down.

" Bastard…this is inhumane!" Squall panted, resuming his vain struggling.

Seifer took a moment to peer down and admire the sinfully beautiful, strong-willed boy shackled and writing on his bed. It sent heat straight to his groin. But he resorted to leaning casually against the wall with a smirk.

" Compared to the conditions in which you were shipped here, is it really so inhuman?" The blonde asked earnestly, full well knowing the answer.

Squall swallowed again, the dry itchiness in his throat reminding him of his earlier torment, however, Seifer was right. He didn't have to look down at his wrists; arms or legs to know the imprint of biting metal would be found there. Compared to the cage and chains he had to endure for hours without reprieve, food, or water, being chained to a large bed, wrapped in a plush robe was heavenly.

Though he would never openly admit that, ever. As far as he was concerned none of this should be happening. It was all equally inhumane!

Seifer saw the familiar battle behind blue eyes and revealed, " Rest assured, I don't make a habit of drugging my slaves, takes the fun out of everything. However, you were too close to an exit for comfort."

Squall scoffed, but made a mental note to use the servants passage again to escape.

If Squall had bothered looking up into the jade eyes above him he would have seen a similar battle waged there. It had pained Seifer to have to resort to chloroform. It was a cheap move, and left Seifer feeling like he had sold his dignity. He didn't approve of it any more than Squall had, but he saw no other option. And letting him go was certainly not an option!

The thought of Squall escaping through his fingertips did him in. He had surprised himself; he'd never been so passionate, so eager over a slave before.

" Would you like some more water?" Seifer finally offered after watching the boy squirm a bit more and lick his dry lips.

Squall nodded, his eyes slipping closed again.

Squall heard Seifer's retreating footsteps but the world of sleep was beckoning him. Every fiber in his being throbbed, being robbed for so long from adequate rest.

He was tired of fighting…at least for now, that was his last thought before darkness descended yet again.

Moments later Seifer came back with a cold glass of water in his hand, but upon noticing the little lion was fast asleep, he set the glass down on the stand next to the bed. Chuckling that the lion had done himself in at last.

TBC…

* * *

Author's note: I put in allusions to Yami no Matsuei with the whole darkness descending upon Squall. What's yummier that an allusion to yaoi in yaoi huh!? I decided to make Rinoa Seifer's servant girl and since she's a servant that means she can't speak freely and annoy everyone around her! I just love tormenting her character!

I hope this chapter length appeases everyone who was calling out for longer chapters! I know short chapters suck!

I want to thank everyone who has reviewed and given me feedback so far! I appreciate every single one of them! And when anyone reviews I look at their profile and read about them! So let that be incentive to you all to REVIEW!

Click that REVIEW button and receive some yummy YAOI!


	4. Day One

**Author's notes:** Hey Guys! Sorry it took so long to update this chapter! Between my fangirl ADD and the production design I've been slaving over for this next film project (I made a projectile blood splatter device with CO2!) I've been super swamped (not to mention actually in a swamp)! I just discovered this website and I've been trying to download yaoi games onto my computer, but I have a mac so i've had the run around sorting through different decoding programs and .iso, .cue, .ecm, .bin, .img files for days . If you have PC you should definitely check it out!

* * *

Master of Slaves

By: Baby Chiba

Chapter 4: Day One

* * *

The lion awoke with a cumbersome sensation attached to his limbs. The daylight that shone through the windows seemed unnaturally bright, and his heavy lids slid closed to it. He groaned and stretched languidly.

Upon feeling the neck restraint yank him back onto the bed, his eyes shot open.

He groaned though it sounded much more like a muffled growl. Pushing his palms into his eyes his sleep-ridden memory became clear.

He expected to be greeted with the sight of the man that claimed to be his master.

But he wasn't.

And for that he was thankful.

He felt a familiar bitterness gnawing in his chest. Though his pride willed him to hide it, a sinking feeling of dread gnawed just as fiercely. Bile quickly build up in the back of his throat, he wasn't sure if it was residual chemicals or his own anxiety.

He swallowed thickly.

Never in his life, even with his unfortunate lot, had he ever been at the mercy of someone else. He never would have allowed that.

But now he was completely at this man's mercy.

Everything seemed surreal. It was only days ago that he was roaming free and now he was chained and stored like some marionette waiting to perform for its master's fickle whims. Whatever whim it may be…

He willed his thoughts away. He didn't want to think about what lay in store for him or just how fickle and deranged his captor was. He needed to remain composed.

He craned his neck to the left, trying to work a kink out of it.

He stretched his arms out tentatively, and then his legs. At least his ability to move had returned to normal. This reassured him somewhat.

His slit eyes trailed slowly over the ceiling of what could only be a bedroom… a very lavish bedroom. He observed his surroundings in detail for the first time since his arrival to this monstrously decadent prison. He briefly wondered if all nobles that exploit and conquer other humans kept them in the same luxury.

He examined the sheer canopy that hung over the enormous four-poster bed, the bed that dwarfed him with its size. He wondered if this was Seifer's bed, and if Seifer had slept here. Looking to his left at the unwrinkled sheets was answer enough.

The décor was simple, a bookcase, a few chairs and tables, but all of it was intricately designed and heavily detailed. But what drew Squall's eyes in were the huge French double doors that opened up to an equally large and lavish terrace. The room must have been on the second or third story because the view Squall got from his position on the bed was extraordinary. The manor must have resided in the center of town. The view overlooked the marketplace and neighboring manors towering upon the rolling hills in all their glory. Squall could even catch a glimpse of the ports from whence he came, and the sea.

His jaw tightened at the sight of the port. His hands reflexively went up to his neck bondage. His nimble fingers threaded around the steel collar, they yanked and pulled at it, searching for some mechanism to unhinge it. He threw his hands onto the bed with a distressed grunt when they failed to find any. He vowed that would get out of this place, even if it meant decapitating himself to get out of this neck restraint. But he would know freedom once again…

His eyes fell to the nightstand on his right, more specifically, to the glass of water sitting there. He licked his dry lips. He was incredibly thirsty. He snatched the glass and gulped it down, sitting up as far as he could to not choke on the liquid. It was after he had swallowed all of it that a stark realization hit hard.

What if Seifer had drugged the water in order to make him docile?!

How could he have fallen for such a trap?!

He trembled.

He lay in wait for the effects of whatever drug now coursing through his body to claim him. He had never felt so vulnerable, so helpless…so full of rage.

He waited.

And waited…

Anticipating his limbs to grow heavy and his heart to steady, but it never came. At least not before Seifer entered.

Sadistic bastard… came to watch him slip into a comatose state.

He ground his teeth and glared with cold hatred wavering in his eyes. He yanked at the steel links restraining him as a reminder to Seifer of his contempt for his situation.

Seifer seemed completely unfazed. The small grin and the merriment with which Seifer boldly strode in with only infuriated Squall. Smiling jade eyes roamed over Squall's body, darkening ever so slightly, and stopped on a scowling face.

Seifer chuckled.

The very thought of Squall was enough to brighten his mood.

The sight of him made his blood pulse faster and race to nether regions.

" I hope you slept well, seeing as you've claimed my bed as your own all night. I had to sleep in one of the guest chambers." Seifer said eyes smiling and locked with Squall's.

Squall's glare only intensified before he twisted his face away from his leering master. He could find no words that would do justice to how he felt internally.

Seifer followed his gaze and noticed the empty glass of water with satisfaction.

" I see you drank the water I put out for you. Would you like some more?" Seifer asked sincerely.

At this Squall's façade changed drastically, if only for a brief moment. But Seifer caught it. The scowling face fell completely and trepidation tamed those stormy blue eyes before his mask of anger slipped easily back into place. It was brief, but enough to alarm Seifer that something was amiss in the lion's mind.

Then when Squall forcefully swung his arm and launched the empty glass across the room towards Seifer, his suspicions were sealed.

The blonde glanced down at the shattered pieces of crystal at his feet, then up at his defiant slave, a frown furrowing his brows.

" You didn't think I'd poison you did you?" The blonde inquired lowly to keep his voice from betraying the offense he felt at the accusation.

His response was a glare that promised to kill.

He was no monster. He didn't make a habit of drugging or harming vulnerable slaves. However, Squall wouldn't know that, how could he? Especially after last night he certainly would not trust Seifer. And the thought somewhat quelled his anger towards the boy, but amplified his personal shame.

He had to earn his slave's trust, his respect…

As the two faced off, eyes locked steadfast upon the other, Seifer knew he had his work cut out for him.

And it brought a hint of a smirk to his pale lips.

The blonde advanced, slowly.

" You must be starving. How about some breakfast? What would you like?" Seifer all but purred.

The glass shards crunched under his boots and he got closer.

" Let me go!" Squall rasped out through clenched teeth, arching slightly against his neck restraint.

And Seifer advanced closer.

" Eggs benedict?" His voice calm and collected.

Squall felt his heart lodge in his throat.

" Give me my clothing!" He hissed, venom on his tongue.

" Fruit it is then?" Seifer clapped triumphantly.

Squall furrowed his brows in contempt. Seifer merely smirked. He looked down at his slave's pale exposed thigh, and his gloved hand snuck a ghost of a touch. Squall's body went rigid before he regained his sense with animal-like fury and kicked out at Seifer.

The kick was sloppy and ill aimed, and easy for Seifer to catch. Squall's pale powerful legs were found in a death grip by gloved fingers. The fingers furled tightly and intentionally lodged themselves between the cords of hard muscle in Squall's calves.

He bound man hissed and arched unceremoniously against his chains, immobilized as the fingers pressed into pressure points.

Seifer held the legs apart and leaned in closer to his slave's twisted face.

" Clothing is a privilege. One you are far from earning." He paused, his eyes dropping down to what lay between Squall's splayed thighs, " but even if you did, I'd forbid you from wearing them anyway." Jade eyes danced with lust as they darted up and locked with steel blue.

Amidst inhaling sharply at the increasing pressure on his calves, Squall found himself mesmerized by the intensity that danced within Jade eyes.

An intensity that made him gulp unconsciously and unable to think straight.

The blonde abruptly let go and backed away without another word and left the room.

Squall was left dazed. The pace changed so quickly it left his head spinning.

The tones with which Seifer bounced between were worlds apart. One moment he spoke with calm aristocratic arrogance, and the other brimming with resolute dominance.

That dominant tone made the skin where the gloved hand had grabbed burn.

And this is what made Squall's hairs stand on edge.

His skin was burning.

It burned from the touch of a gloved hand.

* * *

Moments later the blonde reentered with a platter of assorted fruits in his hands and a timid servant girl on his heels, broom in hand.

Squall recognized her as the servant girl he had his encounter with in the corridor. She seemed fixated with Seifer and remained oblivious to Squall's presence until she followed Seifer's line of vision, which led back to him. She gasped audibly and snapped her head away, her raven hair hiding her blushing face.

" He's a looker huh?" Seifer chuckled his eyes never leaving Squall as he worked his gloves off his hands.

The servant girl, or Rinoa, dared quick glances through her fallen locks at Squall, but as soon as she met steel blue eyes, turned away and focused on sweeping the broken glass on the floor.

Seifer set the tray down on the nightstand and with a speed that was uncanny and unique only to the most skilled trainers, pinned Squall's wrists above his head, sensing the brunette's impending move. He heard the familiar clatter of metal against metal and then felt it enclose around his wrists. It was too late when he realized that his hands were being handcuffed and chained to the bedpost. He thrashed against them defiantly.

" Are you going to behave or do I have to restraint your legs too?" Seifer asked teasingly.

The response was the most natural to Squall, a penetratingly cold glare.

Seifer responded by straddling Squall's torso, pinning his slave's legs beneath his weight. Squall ground his teeth at the mixture of uncomfortable sensations the body on top of his evoked. He vividly felt Seifer's weight pressing against his manhood. The unforgiving course material of his pants rubbed against his sensitive flesh, causing Squall to grind his teeth. But what caused the greatest reaction was that the material was pulled tight against Seifer's own member and Squall felt every hot inch of it as it pressed against his own.

He shivered despite himself, feeling immediately betrayed by his body.

The heat between their bodies had Squall biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Seifer chuckled and that was enough to bring out the defiant nature in his slave once more as he managed to tame the other animalistic instincts surfacing.

His eyes caught a glance at the servant girl as she paused in her sweeping. Her black eyes hid any indication of what she was feeling. It went unnoticed by both men but her grip tightened increasingly on her broom handle the more she witnessed. She hands trembled as she tore her gaze away and fumbled with the shards of glass, pricking herself in the process. She gasped and looked up, sorely disappointed when her master didn't bat an eyelash in her direction. She stood on rubbery legs. Her whole body shook with anger towards the brunette that stole her master's attention from her. She dismissed herself seeing that her master had forgotten her presence. Once outside the door she let out a shaky breath. She vowed to destroy the boy whose body was so coveted by her beloved master.

Seifer's eyes visibly darkened, clearly enjoying the light friction against his confined member. His eyes darted to the tray and picked a translucent white fruit, its clear juices dripping down his long fingers.

" Now, this is my favorite fruit, it's native to Galbadia, called a mangosteen." Seifer's voice was low and husky.

His tongue darted out and lapped at the sweet droplets. A few drops escaped his mouth and landed on Squall's exposed chest. He stilled his heaving chest, his breath caught in his throat as Seifer's eyes lingered too long on the sticky droplets on his chest. His limbs went rigid when Seifer's head bent and he felt a hot tongue slowly lick his sticky skin clean.

Squall shuddered, again cursing his bodily reactions. He gritted his teeth swearing inwardly and straightening his neck, avoiding the scene in front of him though it did little to still his pulsing blood.

The blonde leisurely licked a few more times, deliberately slowly, for good measure, a loop-sided grin curling his lips when he came up again.

He licked his lips, still holding the fruit between his fingers, " So tasty. Breakfast has always been my favorite meal."

He held the fruit to Squall's sealed lips. He immediately turned his head in refusal, smearing the sticky liquid on his cheek in the process. Seifer's naked fingers ghosted his cheek, ever so softly, then roughly gripped his jaw and forced his lips apart, dexterous fingers prodding his pressure points yet again. The fruit was shoved inside his mouth and Seifer pressed his palm to Squall's lips, ensuring that he chewed.

Squall reluctantly obliged; all the while glaring at Seifer's gleaming eyes. When he figured it was safe he removed his hand, but that was a mistake. Squall spat the chewed morsels at Seifer. He felt Seifer stiffen above him. The blonde sat there with his eyes closed for a moment while the pulpy pieces and juices dripped from his face. Squall was prepared for the worst. He'd be damned if he'd let Seifer get away with assaulting his pride and his body.

He wiped the mush from his eyes and when they opened they were a unique shade of green, and they blazed with a new intensity.

" You will be punished for that." He spoke gravely in a tone that made Squall believe every word.

He removed himself from atop Squall in languid movements that could easily give the impression that he was relaxed. But Squall feared those movements, the deliberate, strategic movements of a predator.

" I'll give you time to think over what you've just done before I come back for you." Seifer breathed.

His back turned to Squall as he wiped the remainder of fruit from his face with a handkerchief.

" Where are you going?" The words escaped him before he realized he'd thought them.

Seifer peered at Squall over his shoulder, regarding him warningly.

" If you're going to waste my time I've business to attend to."

And with that he strode out as quickly as he'd come in.

Squall tugged at his handcuffs in apprehension, the cold metal biting into his wrists. He now found himself in a much worse predicament than he began with. Troubling thoughts of his punishment plagued his mind as he was left exposed, hunger, and isolated, a prisoner to time until Seifer returned with whatever vengeance he had in store.

* * *

Seifer stormed down the winding staircase, startling his servants below. Rinoa looked up at him descending, a small crease between his brows.

She recognized that look.

The master only carried that look when something didn't go his way.

A small smile threatened to reveal itself, so she went back to her work of waxing the many statues adorning the manor. She had no doubt in her mind that the boy slave had been the one to mar her master's mood. Perhaps he would tire of the boy sooner than she thought.

When he past her without as much as a fleeting glance she stood up and meekly called out, " Sir?"

He almost didn't stop, apparently deep in thought, but he did, " Yes?"

He sounded harsher than she'd like.

" Would you like your morning cup of tea?" She tried weakly, her hands wringing her dirty rag.

" No." He replied distantly, as if he weren't really listening.

He grabbed his hat from the hanger by the door and placed it upon his head.

Pulling his gloves back over his elegantly slender fingers he instructed, " don't bother preparing lunch, I'll be out in the market for the rest of the morning."

And with that he was out the door.

The soft sea breeze greeted him as he stepped outside, caressing his face. He inhaled deeply the smell of salt and fish as he strode through the narrow cobblestone streets of town. The smell of the sea had always been like a soothing salve to calm his wounded nerves, however today it did little to sedate him.

He'd never had a slave so audacious. It was more trying on his patience than he would have liked. And that was what bothered him more than his slave's defiance. He'd always been able to keep his composure and his wit about him even during the most chaotic of events. He was always able to moderate and balance his desire to conquer and acceptable etiquette. But Squall had that line stretched thin. He brought out the most animalistic urges in Seifer.

The need to conquer.

The need to claim.

He tightened his jaw.

A distraction is what he needed.

He headed towards the usual stage in the middle of the bustling market where Irvine was already busy with a transaction.

Violet eyes caught sight of his approaching figure and winked playfully at him while bowing his respects to the patron as he handed him the slave's metal leash.

" Well, hello there, I'm surprised to see you're here in one piece." Irvine teased, a brilliant smile in place.

Seifer scoffed, " It really wasn't that difficult to restrain him if you've had any experience at all. Remember, I'm no amateur."

" Are you saying I'm an amateur?" Irvine asked, feigning offense.

The trademark loop-sided grin in place he crossed his arms over his broad chest, " I think the scratches are testament to that, I didn't need to say it."

Irvine grinned mischievously, " Than I suppose you've gotten to the more enjoyable parts of that training process huh?"

Seifer's smirk faltered and he rolled his eyes, " That boy is the definition of defiance."

Irvine let out a hearty laugh clapping his hand on Seifer's shoulder, he reminded him so much of a boy who didn't get the presents he wanted from his parents.

" Good, perhaps he'll keep your attention longer than a week." Irvine declared as he threw his arm around Seifer's shoulder and began leading the way through the marketplace.

Seifer couldn't help the small smile curling his lips. The boy would definitely keep his attention…

He grew hot recalling the images of his splayed slave this morning and the taste of his bare flesh. His loins ached with need.

He would have Squall submit, utterly and completely to him.

An elegant Lady in black approached the pair in a fluster and disrupted his thoughts.

" Excuse me, Mr. Almasy!" She implored, her voice smooth and melodious.

She had his attention.

Irvine removed his hand from Seifer's shoulder. Judging by his friend's silence he knew that Irvine was smitten.

" Yes, How may I help you My Lady?" Seifer asked impishly despite his manners.

He took her hand and placed a chaste kiss upon her silk glove.

Her deep black eyes softened, they seemed strangely familiar to Seifer.

" Please excuse me for my rude interruption." She began, her velvety voice flowing from her ruby lips like water.

Seifer took in her image. She was intoxicating. He felt the urge to kneel before her and profess his undying loyalty to her. And Seifer Almasy bowed to no one.

" Not at all My Lady, please state your business." He was deep in delving into her presence, what was it about this woman that commanded such obedience from him?

" Thank you. I'm having a bit of a problem with my slave. I heard you were the best slave tamer in Galbadia." The Lady continued her eyes darting between the two men.

" Where did you get your slave from?" Seifer inquired, drawn away from her magnetic pull and into the conversation.

" I bought him here in the marketplace from the Count of Monte Cristo. He guaranteed my slave's obedience, however, I've gotten nothing of the sort."

At her words Seifer tensed, the name sounding vile, even from this lady's lips.

"Take him back." Seifer replied gravely.

" I've tried. The Count just insists that I don't know how to control a slave and refuses to admit that he was poorly trained to begin with." The lady sighed, crossing her arms smoothly over her ample chest.

" What would you have me do?" The blonde questioned disheartened, he knew what the outcome of this would be.

" Re-train my slave." She said simply, her eyes pleading with Seifer's.

" I'm sorry My Lady I can do no such thing."

He had to break away from her intense gaze in order to refuse her. While trapped in her eyes a yes almost rolled off his tongue.

" Why can you not?" She implored once more, moving a step closer to Seifer.

Seifer shook his head wistfully.

" I cannot undo what has been done. The slave is damaged. It would in your best interest to just release him and buy a new slave."

His eyes were the lightest hue of green they'd ever been. He felt as if he'd personally failed this mysterious Lady. And it pained him.

" I will pay you a great deal." Her last attempt.

" I'm sorry My Lady, please understand my position." His voice was soft and betrayed a fraction of the pain he felt at refusing her.

The Lady stood stone still, her black eyes going opaque. For a brief moment Seifer thought she'd turned to into a statue. She regarded him warily, as if searching his eyes for some obscure answer.

" Alright, thank you for your time. I'm sorry to have bothered you with this matter." She finally said and turned to leave.

Seifer extended his arm as if to stop her, rushing his next sentence, " May I ask for your name before you leave?"

She paused and turned in one fluid motion, the hem of her black dress sweeping the cobblestone, " Edea, Lady Edea."

Edea… even the name sounded familiar.

She smiled something wickedly mysterious. And both men got the impression that something was left unspoken.

Irvine waited until she was a good distance away before smacking Seifer in the chest lightly.

" What's wrong with you? A beautiful damsel in distress asks for your help and you turn her away? We could have made a pretty penny to boot!?" His accent particularly heavy.

" The Count is my rival." Seifer replied simply, his eyes still fixated on Edea's departing figure.

" All the more reason to take the job and show him up! Hyne knows he'd do it in a heartbeat to you!" Irvine chastised throwing his hands about dramatically.

Seifer shot him a stern side-glance.

" My slaves would never need to be re-trained."

The conversation was over.

" You're impossible." Irvine groaned, admitting defeat before they both strode off to join the crowds on the streets.

* * *

TBC…

A/N: Man, I'm sorry guys, one for the delay, and two because this story's tone is all over the place. But it's hard to write a piece like this when your favorite song of the week is Boom Boom Pow by Black eyed Peas LOL!

Don't fret fangirls, I'm not making Seifer straight or alluding to any orgies involving Sorcercess's, I just think it's fun to allude to the game in my fictional piece, hehe! You know what they say, once a knight, always a knight!

You know you wanna…. REVIEW? No? Then maybe REVIEW? Hm…


	5. It carved out Destiny

Master of Slaves

By: Baby Chiba

Chapter 5: It carved out Destiny

It was a night like all other nights. The tavern was a cacophony of hustling drunkards and bustling whores wafting in cheap perfume and smoke. The aristocracy had different ideas of what it meant to be refined come nightfall. This time was their playtime. And play they did…

Five card games later and one gamble away from bankruptcy, Seifer watched Irvine angrily throw his hand on the table and fold.

" Fucking leeches! Take a man's hard earned money but Hyne forbid you let him win it back!" Irvine cursed, a chewed up cigar dangling from his lips.

A rumbling laughter erupted from Seifer's mouth and tore his friend's dangerous glare away from the fellow gamblers.

He patted his friend's back gently while leading him away from the table, " Come now Irvine, the game is run by lady-luck and apparently she isn't your companion tonight."

Irvine only grumbled in response and flung his shredded cigar onto the tavern floor, which made Seifer's smile even broader.

" Come on, I'll buy you another drink." The blonde insisted taking a seat at the bar and motioning Irvine to do the same.

" Only if you down yourself a round as well." Irvine shot back, sitting next to Seifer.

" I can't do that." He replied in mock seriousness fingering to the bartender to pour Irvine a shot.

" Fucking prude. It's not like you're training right now." Irvine teased, a devious smirk stretching his lips.

" I'm always training Irvine." The blonde stated matter-of-factly.

Irvine snorted before fisting the shot glass and downing it expertly.

" I'm punishing my boy as we speak." Seifer continued, a small smile gracing his features as he thought about the minx chained to his bed.

" Yea? Through what, telepathy?" The violet eyed man called out, voice laden with skepticism.

Seifer pointed to his temple. " It's all a mental game. I left him with uncertainty and my prolonged absence makes him that much more aware of his vulnerability."

Irvine blinked face drawn in incredulity. " So you're trying to drive him stir-crazy so that when you get back he claws the shit out of you?"

Seifer let out an exasperated sign, as if he was trying to explain sorcery to an infant, " I'm giving him time to adjust. Breaking him in is more mental than anything. He needs time to wrap his head around his predicament."

Irvine arched a delicate brow. " That's how you're planning to break him? With mental games?"

Seifer's features hardened instantly.

" I don't want to break him, that's the last thing I want to do. I want his submission, not his spirit." He all but growled out.

" I think you've gone soft," he paused seeing the scowl appear on Seifer's face, "but, who am I to question the great slave tamer Seifer Almasy!"

Seifer slammed a bill onto the counter before pushing up from the barstool, " Enjoy your round, prick."

Irvine threw his hands up in surrender. He was not about to chase a sulking Seifer down the street. He turned to the bartender and ordered another round, after all, the night was still young, and the whores still looked cheap.

* * *

The walk home in the thick night air did wonders to soothe his boiling blood. It was late into the evening by the time he entered his manor. The servants had retired to their quarters and the lights were dim. An aromatic fragrance wafted in the air, the remnants of dinner, of which he missed. Ambling into the dining room he saw a place set at the head of the table. A bottle of his favorite wine chilled in a bucket of ice and his dinner preserved by a silver tin cover.

He smiled. The familiar comforts of home never escaped him. Uncovering his food his senses were overwhelmed by the smell of tender game waiting to be devoured. Recognizing his own hunger his smile faltered. He gathered the plate and turned in the direction of the stairs.

He had a slave that had yet to be fed.

He heard a rattle of chains before he had even opened the doors to his bedchambers. And he was greeted with a scowling face that despite its animosity warmed his heart.

" Did you have an eventful day staring at my ceiling?" Seifer asked playfully, setting the plate of food on the night table near the bed.

Those grey eyes only narrowed further into tiny slits and lips curled with disgust.

The room reverberated with Seifer's hearty laughter. It made Squall's stomach churn. Averting his eyes from the blonde they landed on the food next to him. The smell alone was enough to make him salivate involuntarily.

" You're hungry." Seifer said after studying the chained brunette for a moment.

He was hungry.

But he wasn't about to admit that.

Distracting himself Squall craned his neck to the side, a sickening pop audible as he worked the kinks out.

Seifer frowned at the sound. In an ideal situation he would not have had to leave Squall in an unnatural and straining position.

" We'll hold off on your punishment until you've eaten. I can't have my slave passing out on me in the middle of his punishment." Seifer declared in a tone that left no room for argument.

Squall unconsciously tightened his jaw, setting his resolve right then.

As Seifer advanced, he felt pierced by the painfully icy glare from Squall. It didn't relent for an instant. Seifer wondered if it hurt his features to tighten unnaturally so for such long periods.

Seifer cut a generous piece of game off the thigh; the knife sliding through the meat like butter. In one swift expert motion Seifer straddled Squall's torso. Squall gasped before his cheeks tinged red. This was just another way for Seifer to subjugate him. But that was only half the reason his cheeks were stained red, the other half was the unavoidable bulge he felt every time Seifer assumed that particular position.

Seifer held the knife in one hand and the fork with a chunk of meat in the other, a strange glint in his eyes.

It made the hairs on Squall's body stand.

As the fork descended Squall tightened his lips and jerked away from the offensive hand.

Seifer only followed his movements with a smirk and poked his lips with the tender meat, begging entry.

It infuriated Squall to be treated like a child.

A guttural noise came from Squall's throat, warning Seifer to back away.

The blonde arched a brow.

Both men's stubborn nature forcing them to prove their dominance.

Seifer dropped the knife, gripped Squall's jaw forcefully, and pried it apart using the same expert technique he used earlier.

Squall squirmed beneath him uncomfortably and tried to rip his head away, but he was rendered motionless by dexterous hands.

When the morsel of meat was placed inside his mouth and it was promptly clamped over by Seifer's hand, he glared daggers at Seifer, lying completely still, bidding his time.

Finally, Seifer removed his hand.

The same bit of food caught Seifer in the eye, dripping with saliva.

Squall watched his jaw tighten, eyes still screwed shut as he slowly wiped his eyelid of remaining saliva.

It was the second offense.

" Didn't anyone ever teach you not to bite the hands that feeds?" Seifer asked in a strangely calm voice.

Slowly his eyes peeled open to reveal a huffing boy beneath him with a permanent scowl on his face. It made his heart skip a beat just then.

Feeding time was a lost cause.

He sighed.

Maybe he was going soft…

" I'll make you a deal." Jade eyes bore into gray, searching for a hint of anything besides resentment.

He wanted a reason to reward Squall.

He wanted Squall to give him a reason.

Seifer continued, " We'll go for a walk, since I know you're stiff and sick of lying on your back. But only under the condition that when we get back you must eat."

Stormy eyes glazed over and Seifer took that as proof of consideration.

Good enough.

Seifer got to his feet and disappeared into the room out of Squall's sight.

The brunette lay still, though skeptical, his mind racing with ways in which he could seize this opportunity to escape.

He heard the familiar rattle of chains. He ground his teeth at the clanking. He'd grown to loathe that sound.

Gray eyes narrowed viciously and Seifer stopped where he stood, feeling the need to validate why the usage of more chains was necessary, as he could understand it would seem counterproductive to what he had just promised Squall.

" It should go without saying that you'll be kept on a tight leash."

He did not have to explain why, Squall understood, and he knew Seifer would anticipate another escape.

But Squall could not tolerate another failure.

He quivered with sickening excitement, but willed his nerves to relax so they would not betray him.

He needed to stay focused if this was going to work in his favor.

He felt the weight of his limbs go slack against the cuffs and chains. It was a strange feeling, as if they had willed themselves still, not his mind, and though it was just temporary, he felt submissive.

Visibly it looked like submission, and that was all Seifer wanted.

The blonde swelled with pride at Squall's submissive pose. An intense heat rushed to his groin. Though he wasn't about to let an amateur mistake cost him his slave. He knew this was just a deceptive act, and so he kept his guard up and expelled the enthusiasm from his features.

He linked the short steel leash to a hook on Squall's neck bangle and unlatched that from the bedpost, as well as the handcuffs, quickly.

Squall lay still, not wanting to take the opportunity to sit up lest Seifer interpret it that wrong way, and not trusting himself not to bolt.

He waited until Seifer stood back bringing him up with a small tug to his leash.

He swallowed his revulsion down his throat. He even abhorred feigning obedience. It felt wrong. Being treated like an animal, made to walk, heel, sit, eat like one stripped him of his humanity, and his spirit fought it fiercely.

Seifer could see the battling waging behind Squall's eyes.

He understood that Squall's resistance wasn't just a choice, but deeply ingrained in his nature.

And it would make domination all the sweeter once achieved.

His first few steps against cold marble floors felt surreal. Seifer led him through the bedchamber doors, his robe swaying against his naked flesh. He scanned the surroundings with vigilance, every now and then stopping when Seifer ceased his tugging on the leash.

He detached himself from the situation of being treated like an animal, or else they wouldn't have gotten as far down the manor as they did.

Instead he concentrated on how good it felt to walk again, to be somewhat in control of his own limbs. He savored the cold pressure against the balls of his feet.

And Seifer watched his every move with equal vigilance, though with what began as caution turned into pleasure. He was mesmerized by the slight sway of Squall's hips as he walked. The feminine grace present in a body he knew harbored a very masculine strength was captivating.

Before either of them realized it, Squall was leading the way through un-chartered territory. They strode in silence that seeming fitting for both.

However, the silence was disturbed by a gloating Seifer, " All it takes is for you to realize that struggling is futile to reap the benefits of submission."

That one word was all it took to provoke Squall and send him into a full-fledged rage.

The brunette spun around with his hands clasped and bashed Seifer's nose and cheek with the steel cuffs. Seifer howled in pain and shock, grabbing for his nose and dropping the leash.

Squall seized his opportunity and took off down the corridor, through the next room, down another corridor. It was not long before he heard another pair of footsteps behind him.

And they fell into a pursuance, one for freedom, one for vengeance.

Squall rounded a corner and saw the corridor dead-ended, and so he turned into his only exit, another enclosed room.

Seifer halted at the door and let out a scornful sounding laugh.

" You forgot an important detail in your hasty attempt at escaping."

He slammed the door shut and latched it.

" You should probably know the layout of the manor better than your pursuer before you try to escape them." Seifer's thick voice taunted.

Squall curled his lips in disgust, " Fuck you!"

" My what a mouth, I think I liked you better gagged." Seifer jeered sadistically.

All prior sense of patience and logic was replaced by the predatorily hunger prevailing.

It was thrilling. He bared his teeth at his prey pacing frantically in the corner, searching the walls for some solution, some salvation.

Squall noticed on the far wall that there were two swords mounted like trophies. He took one look at the wall, then back at Seifer before he charged toward the blade. Seifer caught his focus with wide eyes. The blonde was right on his tail.

His cuffs were a hindrance in grabbing the blade from its mounts off the wall. That hindrance allowed Seifer the second necessary to throw Squall off his balance and arm himself.

Squall rolled forward on his shoulder, showing remarkable control of his fall. In a flash he was back on his feet the blade poised between his hands.

Seifer was already standing with the blade reflexively drawn out and pointed at Squall.

Chests heaving, eyes locked, both men stood their ground.

" This will be a losing battle for you Squall. Do you know what you're holding so boldly in your hands?" Seifer asked sharply his eyes trained on Squall's blade.

" A gunblade." Squall hissed huskily as he cocked the blade.

Seifer was taken aback, but grinned deviously at the challenge.

It incensed Squall.

" You aristocrats aren't the only ones that handle these." His voice low yet tight with ferocity.

Seifer noticed the way Squall held the blade, even with the restrictive cuffs, it was held properly.

He had adapted to his restrictions like it was second nature.

Seifer knew Squall was experienced. Everything from the fire in his eyes to his footing told him so.

Seifer grinned.

" So you've had a couple backwoods lessons with it huh? Let's see how many half assed swings it takes me to knock it out of your hands." Seifer gibed, though he didn't believe a word of what left his mouth.

Squall saw red and lunged.

At the first collision of blades Seifer felt the staggering strength behind Squall's attack, and knew he was no novice.

Seifer swung his arm out and knocked Squall back.

The brunet came again with concise movements.

He aimed for the heart.

The clash of metal grew louder and the attacks became fiercer as both men slipped into a heated dance. They circled and slashed hungrily at one another both starved for battle. For too long his blade had been collecting dust for lack of competition.

Amidst the sparks that flew Seifer beamed. He had gotten much more than he'd bargained for with this slave. He had found true competition, in every sense of the word.

He was enflamed by battle, by Squall.

Seifer held the advantage, having the lighter blade and no shackles, but Squall held his own beautifully.

He was the embodiment of Ares, this pale lithe fighter in his naked abandon.

Seifer took a slew of slashes from Squall, two escaping his blade and lacerating his flesh just barely. Seifer laughed and returned the favor with a cut to Squall's arm.

The brunet grit his teeth, his eyes glowing with bloodlust.

This was child's play for Seifer.

They circled one another.

Squall stared with deadly intent. Those jade eyes sparkled with mirth as he beckoned him forth, mocking him.

And so he struck.

Sparks flew as he drug the blade across the tile and at the last second as Seifer brought his blade over his head to strike, Squall grabbed the opportunity and sliced.

In slow motion he saw his blade bite through the flesh between those mocking jade eyes.

Before he knew what he was doing he dropped the blade, mesmerized by the crimson droplets that clung at the metal tip. He hadn't intended to do that; he just wanted a window of opportunity to escape. He didn't know why he was suddenly immobilized.

The distractive thoughts were his mistake. Squall couldn't even focus his eyes on the tip of metal sheering the air towards his face before it made a twin cut.

He staggered backwards, his hands coming up instinctively to shield his face. White-hot pain seared through him before he saw black.

Seifer's blade clattered to the floor. His legs bucked and he fell to his knees next to Squall. Inhaling sharply as he wiped the blood from his eyes to look down at his fallen slave.

The sprawled Ares with eyes closed and unruly hair plastered with blood over his face.

Seifer's wound flowed profusely, rivulets cascading down his nose and chin and onto Squall's forehead, cheeks, and lips.

Seifer squinted through his blood to see. His weight slipping under him as his hand slid in the puddle of blood pooling next to him.

They had gone too far.

He had marred his slave.

He had lost control.

A feral roar ripped from his chest as he pushed himself up on unsteady feet. He clutched at Squall's limbs and threw the limp boy over his shoulder, his bondage rattling.

His adrenaline was surging.

He felt like a beast, a provoked animal.

Through the corridors, down the stairs, and into another room he went, as far away from the scene of the crime as he could. It seemed the room he stopped in was the room where most of the slave taming had been dealt, or punishments to be more precise. The stony walls held shackles with chains, a cement bed equip with the same restrictive devices. The room held no windows, no light, save for that of candles.

Seifer let Squall slump off his shoulder onto the hard ground. He undid the shackles at Squall's wrists and the neck collar. He then hoisted him up none to gently by his flaccid arms and shackled his wrists to the wall restraints.

His arms were locked over his head, with enough room to bend his elbow. His heavy head fell unceremoniously forward. His dead weight rested on his bent knees.

The blonde paused for a moment and stared at the unconscious brunet.

The color red smeared all over his pallid skin.

Seifer sneered and abruptly stalked out of the room, bolting the door, keeping the boy securely in, and him securely out.

He did not trust his temper right now. He did not trust himself with his slave, with Squall.

He raked his shaky fingers through his damp hair as he paced in front of the room he had just tucked Squall away in.

He felt he was suffocating.

He needed to get out.

He needed to treat his wound before he bled all over the floor.

* * *

It was well into the night when the doors to the tavern were thrown open to reveal a sulking blonde. Irvine nearly choked on his brew. His face paled when his friend neared and he saw the stained bandage across his face. Everyone in the tavern looked at the blonde as well. Murmurs exchanged between harlots and hookers, aristocrats and merchants alike.

Seifer fell into the stool next to Irvine at the bar, ignoring the curious glances. Irvine continued to stare, speechless.

" I need a drink." Seifer growled his eyes avoiding Irvine's questioning gaze.

" You know, now is a prime opportunity for me to say 'I told you so', but I think that'd be overkill." Irvine drawled, the alcohol making it thicker.

Seifer glared.

Irvine shrugged and ordered him a drink.

After he downed the amber liquid and hissed as it burned a hole through his chest, Irvine allowed himself to comment, " So the little minx likes it rough huh?"

The liquor in his blood making him more brazen than usual.

Seifer opened his mouth as if about to fiercely object and then quickly shut it, his face scrunching, searching for the right words.

Irvine stared at the shifting emotions on his friend's face. He'd never seen Seifer so distraught before, about anything, let alone a slave boy. He couldn't help but be slightly amused.

" I- I lost control with him." Seifer finally spat out, eyes unfocused.

Irvine leaned in on his palm, listening intently, a stupid smile creeping up on his face. Seeing that his friend was lost in thought, another rare sight, he decided to help move the story along.

" How'd you get in a situation where the kid had a blade?" Irvine asked bemused, then paused when he noticed a darkened blotch of dark red on Seifer's shoulder, " Hyne, the kid did a number on you, have you cleaned yourself up yet?" Irvine's voice taking on a slight tone of urgency as he sat up and reached for his friend's shoulder.

Seifer batted his hand away, which Irvine let fall limp at his side.

" I'm fine! That's not the point Irvine!" Seifer rushed, trying again to explain the dilemma that had driven him from his home at an ungodly hour.

But Irvine would hear nothing of it, his attention solely focused on the blondes still bleeding cuts.

" How deep is that cut, you may need to get it sutured up, it looks deep." The violet-eyed man interrupted, his fingers lingering around the bandage, trying to peel it back to examine it.

Seifer's already limited patience was wrought thin. He should have known better than to argue with a drunk…

Seifer grabbed his friend's hand and held it firmly.

" Irvine! Listen to me! I lost control! He-" Suddenly a booming baritone voice cut through the air and interrupted Seifer again.

" Having slave problems?"

Both men froze. Seifer clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, willing himself to stay planted on the seat. Irvine looked down and scratched his head. This was going to get ugly. One could feel the tension suffocating the air from across the tavern.

" My boy is none of your concern… Count." Seifer spoke gruffly, hissing the last word out as if it were venom on his tongue.

" Ha, the boy would be better off with me, what they all need is a sound lashing. That always does the trick." The Count retorted arrogantly.

The Count closed the space between them, his black cape swaying with each step. Sea green eyes snapped to stare into black abysmal. The inky eyes of the Count of Monte Cristo laughed at him, bearing the sadist he truly was.

Irvine caught how Seifer's fingers blanched around his empty shot glass, as if trying to anchor himself on it.

" I don't believe in resorting to violence as a means to make my slaves submit. There are other just as effective ways to discipline." Seifer spat out with pure animosity.

Irvine's eye twitched.

" How delusional! I suppose they listen to you out of love and respect, correct? You're a gutless tamer!" The Count persisted haughtily daring to take a step closer to the pair.

Irvine's other eye twitched. He was not in any mood for a fight, or any condition for that matter.

Seifer inhaled deeply, his body quivered with residual bloodlust.

" I shall have to ask you to refrain from insulting me so Count…" He warned through clenched teeth, turning away from the Count.

He was dangerously close to snapping.

" What would you do? Coddle me to death?" The Count leaned in close and whispered cynically, his black tresses framing the cruel smile that curled his pale lips.

Seifer's nostrils flared. He veered his head slightly to the side so his lips were close to the Count's ears.

" You're not my slave, I have no reservations about gutting you like the pig you are!" Seifer snarled, emphasizing the last part of his threat.

The Count chuckled slowly seemingly enjoying Seifer's hostile disposition.

" But you see, I'm not the one marked up like cattle by a slave boy. You're a coward who can't handle a real slave." The Count admonished, looking Seifer up and down in disgust.

Seifer willed his breathing steady.

" And it will be with the sweetest pleasure that I take him off your hands and claim him as my own." The Count sang sweetly.

And Seifer heard no more save for the sickening crunch of bone under his fist as he dislocated the Count's jaw.

* * *

It was not a night like all other nights as Seifer found himself striding home with haste.

The Count's words had struck a cord.

His threat to claim Squall was empty.

However he felt like a hypocrite.

He did not believe in violence. Yet it persisted under his roof, amounting from his lack of restraint.

He carved his slave up like cattle as well, perhaps worse than he'd been.

He'd left a very wounded slave unattended to because he had been overwrought with emotion.

It was inexcusable.

Seifer felt sick.

He ceased his rapid strides and veered off to the sidewalk to lurch up the contents of his stomach, which was a mere shot of whiskey.

Shakily wiping his mouth with his sleeve he ran the rest of the way home.

Collecting various things in his arms before unbolting the room where he left Squall, he crept in, quietly.

The brunet's head was still bowed, though it had rolled onto his right arm. He saw the trail of still damp blood from his forehead down his arm.

Seifer swallowed, overwhelmed with feelings of guilt.

He knelt in front of the unconscious boy.

He was so serene in sleep, even encrusted in blood.

Seifer poured some clear antiseptic onto a towel and gently dabbed at the dried blood trails over pale skin.

The robe lay open, exposing his tainted flesh completely to Seifer's eyes.

Each new gash he found made his chest constrict with unbridled remorse.

As he began his ascent up Squall's face to the source of all the spilt blood Squall's eyes fluttered and slowly peeled open.

For a moment Seifer stilled, waiting for Squall's eyes to focus.

Once they had he continued dabbing at Squall's skin.

Squall stay still as stone, it seemed the boy ceased to breathe.

For the first time those stormy eyes regarded him with something other than resentment and anger.

Squall watched Seifer tend to his wounds in silence for some time. He noticed the blotched bloodstains on Seifer's shoulder and chest.

" What about your wounds?" The pensive brunet spoke barely above a whisper.

Seifer continued cleaning Squall before the smallest curl of his lips indicated a smile, " just scratches."

Squall snorted playfully at the jibe, his lips barely moving but it was enough for Seifer to realize that the brunet was smiling.

Their eyes caught and something in him shifted when he saw the tenderness with which Seifer's peridot eyes examined him.

Seifer's touches were feather light and gentle as the wind's caress on his abused flesh. Squall let his eyes slide closed. He resigned himself to Seifer's mercy.

The blonde's breath hitched in his throat. It was Squall's first real sign of submission. True submission.

It made Seifer thankful for the night's turn of events, despite how detrimental they initially appeared to be.

When the dried blood had been cleaned away and the path of the gash was made clear it made Seifer's blood run cold. He was looking at a mirror image of his own face. How they had both cut identically into one another so precisely was hauntingly surreal. Seifer carefully removed the bandages from his own face.

At that moment Squall reopened his eyes and focused on the wound identical to his own on another's face.

Seifer felt that the wounds were riddled with some intangible profoundness unbeknownst to either of them.

Seifer watched that same realization set in Squall's eyes before he slipped back into unconsciousness.

* * *

TBC…

A/N: Gomen nasai! I took forever with this chapter. You all have to forgive my schedule! So I just recently watched Gankutsuou: The Count of Monte Cristo, and I have fallen in love with the series! I both loved and abhorred the Count. He was so utterly human in the most inhuman way… crazy I know. But I felt he deserved a cameo in my story here. We will be seeing more of him. I apologize for any spelling or grammatical mistakes, I have no beta and I can only catch so much.

Tell me what you guys think about the alternative way in which the boys get scarred up, heheh!

I promise the yaoi is to come shortly, but I will not rush it if it's not warranted. This isn't a pwp, for that go check out my other stories ^.^

As always accepting REVIEWS and criticism!!


	6. Hunger

A/N: Hello my dedicated fans! I think you'll all be pleased with this chapter littered with zesty lemon-ness! I forgot to dedicate the last chapter to my dear friend Chemotaxis, so here it is now! She has me by the balls with her Arcane Crisis. Thank you for all your motivating words!

Dedicated to: Chemotaxis

* * *

Master of Slaves

By: Baby Chiba

Chapter 6: Hunger

All concept of time was lost to him. The tick of time had ceased since he had awakened, Hyne knew how long ago, in this bleak dungeon. His head throbbed violently from the wound between his eyes. His limbs ached from his unnatural restraint. The dull stinging sensations that littered his body let him know of all the places Seifer's blade had kissed. He was seriously disoriented. He would have guessed what time it was if there had been any light source at his disposal, but of course, there wasn't. He felt like a prisoner now within the walls of this mausoleum incarcerating him.

His head jerked up at the sound of the rustic bolts on the door being opened. As the door opened a brilliant light infiltrated and burned his eyes. He flinched away from the assault. Perhaps it was to his advantage that this room was sealed off from light.

A familiar rumbling chuckle came from the figure that lingered in the doorway.

The plagued brunet growled in response, eyes screwed shut to keep the light out.

His tormentor finally shut the door and the light scurried out again. Opening his eyes he blinked, re-adjusting to the dim light from candles held in Seifer's hand.

Seifer knelt to his level and placed the candle fixture on the floor. Squall looked away, unwilling to face the mirror himself of himself on the other man's face. He didn't have much luck as Seifer hooked his fingers under his chin and turned his face.

Grey eyes tried in vain to avoid the gash nested between peridot eyes, for that was the first place they landed. And as they explored the abused flesh, peridot eyes did the same in earnest.

The blonde pulled a cloth and a bottle of liquid out of his pocket. Squall frowned and immediately regretted doing so as the skin pulled around his wound. He cursed the blonde. He wasn't even allowed the pleasure of glaring without a throbbing reminder of his failure.

Seifer made a haughty sound and looked up at Squall as he poured some of the mystery liquid onto the cloth in his hand.

" You shouldn't have challenged me like that."

He was gloating. Squall could feel it.

" You should have let me go." Was his low husky reply, he hadn't the energy for a more robust response.

It was deceivingly seductive.

" Hn, not a chance." Seifer murmured silkily.

A devious smile hitched his lips up.

" Then you deserved it." Squall spoke softly but definitively.

He sounded surprisingly devoid of all resentment.

Seifer noted this and attributed it to exhaustion. His energy was nearly depleted. He supposed the last few days for his slave had been extremely taxing, and he'd had nothing to replenish his energy yet.

"Ask for forgiveness and perhaps I'll be lenient with you." Seifer said teasingly as he applied the cold ointment onto Squall's gash.

" Fuck you." Squall hissed out as the cloth touched his flesh.

Perhaps he wasn't completely spent yet.

Seifer chuckled darkly, " You must be a glutton for punishment."

He was answered with a cold stare that spoke volumes.

Seifer examined Squall's numerous cuts and applied ointment with the same care. When he finished with that he gave Squall's nude form a once over for medical purposes, however it turned lewd very quickly.

Seeing his obstinate slave chained in such a provocative position set his blood on fire.

This fire wasn't going to be easily extinguished.

Seifer swiftly left the dungeon-like room. Leaning against the bolted doors he rubbed his pulsating groin and felt it stir against his fingers. His head fell back against the door, exasperated.

He needed release. He'd never gone this long without reprieve before. He hadn't counted on his little slave being so damn resistant.

He awkwardly strode into the closest room, feeling the heavy weight of his balls between his legs. He shut the doors for privacy.

His length was growing to life quicker than he'd known it could. Seifer practically ripped his pants off in his haste to free his swelling member from its tight confines. Grabbing his cock he groaned and fell into a seat with a heavy thump.

He fingered the glistening tip with his thumb and bit his lip. Hyne, he needed release.

Fisting his length he gave himself a few slow strokes and brought himself to full-mast.

Letting heavy lids slide over his eyes images of his sultry slave filled his mind. His cock twitched with excitement. Quickening the pace of his strokes he imagined the brunette's pouting lips wrapped around his member.

His fingers tightened on his sweltering erection.

Squall impaling himself on his cock, riding him, up and down, up and down.

His head fell back over the headrest and his mouth went slack.

The brunette bent over bearing his rosy entrance, puckering for Seifer, waiting to be kissed.

A very masculine mewl was torn from Seifer's throat. He was close, so close…

He stroked himself faster and faster, flexing his hips to meet his hand.

His balls tightened.

Squall…

The angry muscle twitched and shot out ribbons of milky white seed.

Seifer fell slack against the chair again, his coated hand languidly stroking himself as he softened.

A light sheen of sweat clung to his forehead and neck.

The blonde lazily brought his fingers to his mouth and suckled his pungent seed away. He smiled as he tasted himself, thinking how appalled his slave would be if he knew that this orgasm had his name written all over it.

Composing himself he ambled out of the room, a slight skip to his step.

* * *

It seemed like moments later that the blonde reentered the dungeon, though it could have been longer, he had no way of telling.

He was still highly disoriented and his cuts all tingled from the ointment Seifer applied. He wondered how the blonde was able to carry on so effortlessly, as if he wasn't himself equally as wounded. Perhaps he wasn't, perhaps he hadn't cut the blonde as deep as he thought he had. Or perhaps he had; but the blonde was a master at masking his pain.

Seifer put a tray of assorted fruits and grains on the floor in front of Squall.

" You lost a lot of blood, you need to eat something." Seifer coaxed gently.

Squall spat on the tray in disdain.

Seifer sighed his patience dwindling.

"You see Squall, the beautiful thing about this business is that I don't have to answer to anyone. The slave trade is still such a fresh industry that the government hasn't gotten a hand in to regulate it yet. In a nutshell, that gives me freedom to do with you as I please to no consequence."

He hovered over Squall, planting a hand on the wall right above his head and leaning in.

" Remember that next time you decide to test my patience. And consider what I chose not to do." He whispered harshly, reminding Squall who held the power.

Squall mustered a distorted sneer, that much more repulsive in its distortion.

Seifer pushed himself from the wall and went to retrieve what sounded like more chains from where the concrete bed lay.

He came back with a steel neck collar and Squall instantly started struggling in his bondage. Firm hands gripped his hair and yanked his head back, leaving his neck exposed to his captor.

Seifer expertly clasped the collar around Squall's neck and unlatched his arms from their uncomfortable elevated height.

Squall immediately brought his freed hands into his lap and massaged his sore wrists, glaring up at Seifer briefly before realizing that the door was open and his hands were free.

Squall thought of escape, however Seifer quickly cut him down.

" You can't escape. The chain goes as far as to the bed and halfway to the door." Seifer said with seriousness.

Squall's heart sank.

And just like that the blonde was out the door again, and Squall was plunged into an all-consuming darkness.

* * *

Irvine was outside shielding his eyes from the invasive sunlight, a hand-rolled cigarillo slack between his chapped lips and nursing a hell of a hangover. He saw the familiar carriage with the Almasy insignia pull up. It stopped right in front of him and out stepped a hot-tempered Seifer.

Irvine chuckled weakly at the blonde's sour disposition. It was common knowledge to Irvine that his friend's lust was at its peak in the morning hours. It had become ritualistic to wake and slake his hunger on the slaves he trained for the past few months. It had become a religious practice for them both. This was the first time in months that he was not able to practice his beloved ritual.

Nothing could set the pace of the day like a morning conquest.

" Well aren't you just one ball of sunshine this morning." Irvine teased, his drawl thick.

He took a drag of tobacco.

Seifer glared and roughly rubbed at the skin around his lacerated flesh.

" How can you function so well after a night of drowning your liver in alcohol?" Seifer asked bitterly.

Irvine laughed lightly, " Because I don't have a crater splitting my forehead in half", He took a drag, " just a hangover."

" Isn't it the same thing?" Seifer joked dryly.

The violet-eyed man threw his head back in a hearty laughing fit. Seifer found himself smiling along with his friend.

" I suppose it is." Irvine sniggered, handing his cigarillo over to Seifer.

Seifer took a long drag feeling the smoke filling his lungs and temporarily pacifying him.

Irvine nudged him, " Cheer up kiddo, we have merchandise to test out. Don't shit on the day just yet."

Seifer smirked knowingly around the cigarillo in his mouth.

" Come on, let me show ya," Irvine drawled and threw his arm around Seifer's shoulders, leading the two of them into his manor.

Irvine's abode was nowhere near the size of Seifer's. Irvine had come from more modest beginnings, and hadn't inherited an estate like Seifer had. He had his built once he had become a wealthy merchant. The layout of his manor was very simple, there were no twisting, winding corridors, or secret passages, or multiple floors. It was one big, open room. One room overlooked everything. The architecture was odd and deviant for the time, however it suited Irvine's exhibitionistic nature perfectly. Irvine argued that he'd modeled his home after that of the ancient Pharaoh's of Galbadia, but Seifer argued that it was just his god-complex coming through. Irvine had nothing to hide and wanted to hide nothing. He was a shameless wanton.

They sauntered towards the back of the house, towards the monstrosity of a bed Irvine slept on, among other things. His faithful slaves Zell and Raijin stood at opposite sides of the bed, stretching between them a chain. At the center of the long chain attached by the neck sat the newest piece of merchandise.

As they neared Irvine giggled and rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation.

Seifer smirked at the sight of a young boy's willowy body made to straddle the rumpled bed sheets. His wrists bound in front of him, obscuring what lay between his exposed thighs. Save for his binds, he was adorned in flesh from head to toe.

Seifer felt like a predator stalking his prey. Jade eyes held volumes of vulgarity. This boy recognized it in both men. He was no stranger to slavery.

The boy's cerulean eyes darted nervously between the two of them, then between his two captors. Raijin gave an admonishing tug to his collar and he bowed his head, dark golden locks shrouding those wandering eyes.

The boy was obviously accustomed to exhibition because though his muscles were taut, he did not struggle. On closer inspection his nervousness seemed to be attributed to something else…

" Where did you happen upon this beauty?" Seifer questioned as his eyes hungrily raked the boy's tanned skin.

" I happened upon him during a lucky poker match last night. Some unfortunate bastard gambled his luck away along with this prize. Boy doesn't speak a lick of Galbadian, but I did get that his name is Tidus." Irvine explained as his eyes also feasted upon the boy.

Seifer licked his lips. He flexed his fingers. They itched to touch.

" Well, why are we wasting time, let's begin." Seifer demanded huskily.

Irvine clapped his hands and emitted the strangest yet happiest squeal Seifer had ever heard.

Seifer shock his head and shrugged out of his coat.

Irvine lunged onto the bed laughing, " Yeehaw! Turn around and spread them legs boy before I change my mind and hog tie you!"

Tidus watched wide eyed as Irvine jumped towards him, unable to comprehend any of the raunchy orders given. If not for Irvine's ever-vigilant slaves, Zell and Raijin, tugging his chains to direct him, he never would have known what to do.

Tidus lay sprawled on his stomach, arms trapped underneath him, bottom up and exposed to his captors. It was immediately met with Irvine's hand. Tidus gasped and involuntarily flinched.

" Look at this ass." Irvine spoke through clenched teeth.

The violet-eyed man spanked him again, and again, until the boy's bottom was blushing red. He roughly grabbed one of the boy's abused ass cheeks and massaged it before spanking him again.

Seifer watched his friend zealously fondle his new toy in amusement as he continued to casually disrobe.

Irvine greedily ran his hands over the creamy smooth skin of Tidus's rump and over the arch of his back. He could not get enough fast enough. The boy emitted a soft moan.

He clapped his hands over the boy's cheeks and groaned before spreading them.

" Ugh, hyne, I'm gonna plow his ass so hard…" Irvine growled.

Seifer chuckled, unfastening his pants, " Easy buddy, don't break the merchandise, we still need to sell him."

" If I break him I'll buy him." Irvine grunted, his voice laden with lust.

He pressed his hand into the small of Tidus's back, forcing him to arch even more, exposing even more of his round bottom and balls to Irvine's ravenous eyes.

Completely disrobed Seifer strode over to the bed and knelt behind Irvine, peering over his shoulder.

Irvine spread his cheeks for Seifer's viewing pleasure.

The blonde whistled, " That's a pretty ass alright."

The blonde then licked his thumb and rubbed it over Tidus's dark puckering entrance. The boy immediately threw his head back and thrust against Seifer's thumb.

Seifer smirked and dragged his thumb lower, grazing the delicate flesh of his ball sacs. Tidus jerked, lifting his bottom higher.

Seifer chuckled and brought his thumb back to his mouth.

" He's tasty, give him a lick." He urged Irvine.

" With pleasure." Were the last words on Irvine's tongue before it plunged between Tidus's cheeks.

He licked a trail from the skin above his balls to his entrance and back again, catching a drooping ball into his mouth and sucking.

The noises the boy made went straight to both men's cocks.

Seifer walked around the edge of the bed, his hand sliding over smooth skin as his eyes took the boy in at all different angles. One might have thought that Seifer was being hesitant, but in reality, he was scheming over all the possibilities of 'testing' his new product out. He was silently gauging Tidus's every reaction, gauging how profitable he could be, how marketable he could be, how obedient he could be... He never lost himself in lustful abandon like Irvine did, after all, this was still business.

At the head of the bed Seifer stood, hovering over Tidus's sprawled form. He gripped his arms and pulled them from beneath him. His erection twitched at the sight of Irvine's face buried in the boy's ass and all the lovely sounds coming from between his plump lips. Seifer aggressively grabbed a handful of dark gold locks and forced Tidus's head up. He ran his thumb over the boy's moist lips. Cobalt eyes stared up at him under heavy lashes, glazed with desire. The boy's tongue boldly snaked out and licked Seifer's thumb, taking it gently between his lips and sucking it.

Seifer stifled a groan.

He ripped his hand away from Tidus who moaned at the loss of contact. The boy's eyes were fixed on Seifer's stiff member.

Seifer grinned lecherously.

He held the base of his cock and his balls together and waved it up and down in front of Tidus.

The boy stuck his tongue out trying to catch a taste of the organ.

" You want this?" Seifer whispered hoarsely, moving his cock closer to Tidus's gaping mouth.

Tidus mewled in need and lurched forward.

Seifer laced his fingers in sandy locks again, arching the boy's neck. Seifer slapped his hard member against Tidus's cheek, and then rubbed it across the boy's face, over his nose, his lips, and his eyes, smearing glistening pre-cum against everything it touched. Seifer flexed his hips against the boy's face, whose features screamed euphoria.

Tidus nuzzled the blonde's heavy ball sacs then licked his way to the angry red tip.

Seifer inhaled sharply and pulled back.

" Not yet. You haven't earned this yet." Seifer panted, fisting his pulsating cock and stroking it firmly.

Tidus writhed under Irvine and whimpered as he too pulled back.

" You're such a tease Seifer, let him have it." Irvine chuckled gruffly, wiping his chin.

Seifer met Irvine's eyes with a devious gleam.

" He's gonna beg for it before he gets it." Seifer droned dangerously.

Irvine chuckled inwardly while unbuckling his pants and letting them drop down his ankles. He then spanked Tidus repetitively until he had the boy bucking like a wanton whore. In one brisk motion he buried his throbbing cock up to the hilt in the boy with a loud groan. Tidus tensed and trembled, his mouth falling open and his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Irvine mumbled incoherent curses, his fingers digging into the boy's hips deep enough to leave marks.

All the while Seifer continued to pump his member.

Irvine quickly recovered and started thrusting into the boy's hole at a vigorous pace.

Seifer's eyes were fastened upon where sweaty skin slapped sweaty skin, drinking up all the erotic noises that fell from Tidus's lips.

" That's it, let me hear those cries." Seifer murmured hoarsely.

Irvine picked up his pace and Tidus's screams of pleasure resounded clearly throughout the manor.

Hunger overtook the blonde and he shoved his angry cock into Tidus's open mouth. Tidus swallowed him whole. Seifer hissed and thrust in and out of the tight hot cavern of the boy's willing mouth. The boy's cheeks concave, his screams muffled by the length plunged down his throat. Seifer thought he would shoot his load right then at such a wanton sight.

Irvine was so consumed by the tight heat of the boy's insides squeezing him that he almost missed the subtle grope his slave Zell gave to his own hardened member.

A crude smile curled his lips as he met eyes with Zell.

" Touch yourself." He grunted to Zell.

The brawny blonde obeyed and yanked at his swollen penis roughly, his eyes fixated on the junction of his master's member and the boy's stretched hole.

" That's it baby, you want some of this too, don't you?" Irvine coaxed, emphasizing his point by gyrating his hips into Tidus.

Zell nodded enthusiastically.

" Come here." Irvine ordered.

Zell dropped the chain he was holding and it crashed with a loud clank onto the ground. He was on his knees behind Irvine with earth-shattering speed. Zell lovingly groped his master's muscular cheeks and licked his way into the crevasse that protected his rosy entrance.

Seifer laughed gruffly thinking of how Irvine could have opened a brothel in his own home. He removed his penis from Tidus's mouth and held it inches from the boy's face; so close Tidus could smell the overpowering masculinity dripping from its tip. Squeezing his shaft at the base he slowly thrust back into the boy's open mouth then pulled out again, stroking himself then burying himself back inside that delicious heat.

He was teasing the boy, and himself, trying to prolong his impending orgasm.

Zell plunged a moist finger inside Irvine and worked it ferociously, then a second, and a third. Irvine's moans took on a different tone and he plowed Tidus voraciously.

Seifer was close. His heart skipped a beat.

He was consumed by his hunger.

Brutally grabbing the sides of Tidus's face he slammed into the boy's mouth, face-fucking him with a wicked vengeance.

His abdomen tightened and he exploded violently into the boy's mouth. Tidus let out a strangled gurgling noise as he tried to swallow and not choke on Seifer's length and load. Seifer pulled out when the spasms stopped raking his body. Strings of the thick white fluid dripped down Tidus's chin and throat and clung to corners of his mouth as he moaned feverishly. His featured twisted and he came hard against the bed sheets beneath him. Irvine came as Tidus's anal muscles clenched with his orgasm.

All that followed for moments after were the heavy breaths of four men. The air smelled heavily of sex and testosterone.

Irvine pulled out of Tidus, his flaccid cock glistening in a mixture of fluids, and veered towards Zell to kiss him passionately on the lips.

Combing his sweaty disheveled locks off his forehead, Seifer smiled softly. It was no secret that Zell was Irvine's favorite slave. Their relationship was slightly different from the ordinary master-slave relationship. Irvine was in love with Zell in his own way. It was a possessive love, but it was love nonetheless. Seifer secretly envied that.

Irvine stroked Zell's marked face. The permanent black markings on Zell's face told the story of his heritage. The tribal people of Centra marked the men of their tribe to distinguish them. It gave each tribe a separate identity, though through this archaic practice they were united against all other nations.

Irvine's hands moved down to tease Zell's still hard penis, his own growing in response. Seifer felt his own member twitch as he looked down at the sweaty boy gasping for breath on the bed.

Seifer slowly stroked his wet cock.

Irvine broke away from Zell and peered over his shoulder at his friend's massive organ. He smiled.

" Again?" Irvine asked in amusement.

" The boy needs a thorough examination. I've only just begun." Seifer crooned gruffly.

The room echoed with Irvine's laughter.

The remainder of the day was spent soaking in sweat and seed as they administered various tests on the boy to determine how marketable he was…

* * *

It was dusk by the time Seifer left Irvine's self-proclaimed whorehouse, agreeing to meet tomorrow to continue his assessment of the prospective slave.

He was in high spirits as he strode in to check on his brooding slave. He carried with him a tray of food and treats.

However, upon seeing the tray from the morning had remained untouched, his spirits dropped.

He wordlessly set the new tray of food down in front of Squall who was crouched in a corner arms resting over his knees.

Squall violently kicked the tray and sent it flying. Then he hung his head between his knees once more.

Seifer's jaw tightened and he balled his fists, thoughts of violence fleeting.

" My line of work requires patience. I've never lost my patience with any slave that I've trained, but you… you are pushing it little one." Seifer hissed sharply, nostrils flaring at the lack of response he received.

Squall remained, as he was, silent and still.

Seifer turned on his heels and stalked out.

The following morning was the same.

As was the following night...

Seifer would leave a tray of food in the morning.

Seifer would spend the day fucking his anger away at Irvine's.

Seifer would return to find the food untouched.

And they fell into a perpetuating cycle.

Squall remained impassive and refused all food and medical treatment from Seifer.

Neither man was willing to concede or compromise.

And so for four days and four nights Squall was relentless in his hunger strike.

Four days and four fitful nights later Squall's energy had dwindled to almost nothing.

Four days and four restless nights later Seifer was distraught over Squall's deteriorating condition.

The boy was emaciated and Seifer felt like he was keeping a prisoner rather than a slave.

Squall's torture had become his torture. He paced like a caged animal outside Squall's room, nearly ripping his hair out in contemplation.

He entered finally with half a mind to shovel food down Squall's throat, but upon seeing the withered beauty curled in a fetal position on the concrete slab deemed a bed, his stomach churned.

This was wrong.

Everything was wrong.

The sight was sickening.

Seifer swallowed the harsh emotion down his throat thickly, " If you carry on like this you'll starve. And then I'll be out a slave."

His damnable hubris twisted his words. He could not let Squall see him in naked vulnerability. He cursed himself and left in a flurry of violent emotions.

Something had to give.

* * *

TBC…

A/N: What will happen?! Will Seifer suck up his pride or let Squall die? Ah! Only the next chapter will tell!!

You know… it's interesting that I have more people subscribed to my story updates than I do reviews… that means some people are seriously slacking! Come on people, it takes a second out of your day to type out a nice review! You'll get a chapter dedicated to you if you review?

Yea? You like that? Heheheh…


	7. The Devil's Playground

A/N: Ah! I'm so sorry for the late update! School has me its slave!

Dedication: I want to wish Sparks3712 a happy belated birthday!

And a big hug to elfgirl83, Thornangel, Ruid, Mai, sheartrigger, cloudstrifejen, ame85, Itavita, BoredomIsDeadly, Chemotaxis and xxperfectxdrugxx for being ever faithful reviewers! You guys are the reason I keep writing! You're all so inspiring!

* * *

Master of Slaves

By: Baby Chiba

Chapter 7: The Devil's Playground

The master of the manor endured a fierce night, full of fleeting sleep and fitful episodes. Never had he been felt so haunted in his own home. His dreams turned nightmarish as the night sprites invaded his mind and tortured him with conjured images of his withered slave.

So as dawn broke, so did he.

His resolve was set.

Something had to give.

Anxiously striding down the corridors of his manor it chilled him through to his marrow. The walls seemed to sing with secrets of tragedy, it hung thick in the air like the morning fog. A home turned hollow as it gave reverence to the House of Agamemnon.

As Seifer threw open the door to Squall's cell a chill swept through him, as if a demon had been dwelling over Squall's shrunken form, sucking his energy and now that it had been sapped, took its exit to find another unfortunate soul.

Squall slowly pried his eyelashes apart. He hadn't been sleeping, but somewhere between the states of consciousness and unconsciousness. He'd been there for the past few days, unable and unwilling to stabilize himself in one state. It was easier to endure his torture this way, falling through reality, yet always cognizant of the rage that inspired him and kept him alive. His hubris is what drove him, kept him determined. If it had been his body commanding him, he would have succumbed and eaten days ago as he surely felt that his stomach was eating itself.

And though the boy was kissing death's feet, his face remained passive as ever as it veered towards his captor.

Something had to give.

Seifer hesitated briefly at the sight. It was frightening, but his resolve was unwavering. The blonde thrust a key into the lock of Squall's collar none too gently and unhinged it.

" Get up." The blonde uttered abruptly taking a step back from the stoic brunet.

Squall remained unresponsive.

" Come on, let's go!" Seifer ordered sharply gesturing for Squall to stand.

The brunet's heart was lodged in his chest. His pulse sped up and it made him dizzy, his body unable to handle his animate state. He lifted his head and made a move to unfurl himself from his fetal position, however, his throat filled with a vile taste as he found he was incapable of lifting his limbs. They had grown too heavy in his imprisonment. He felt as if they'd been weighed down by a thousand human hands.

Steel eyes glazed with panic and Seifer caught it.

It disturbed him to see such uncharacteristic emotion swimming in crystalline eyes.

He couldn't help but feel guilt. It should have never come to this.

" Look at you… you can't even stand on your own." Seifer spat out, seemingly repulsed.

For the first time in days Squall reached full consciousness, which included his body. He shied from the vulnerability of not having control of his situation, however, not having control over his body was an entirely different matter. He was useless, and he had rendered himself that way. The realization that this was the consequence of his rebellion immobilized him. He'd never been so frightened in his life…

Seifer's thoughts seemed to be on the same wavelength as his and he vocalized it.

" You couldn't even leave if I wanted to release you. Not in this state…" The blonde trailed off with a hint of sympathy, looking over Squall's malnourished body before turning to leave.

He was right.

In retrospect this entire rebellion had been an awful idea, blinded by his anger he had not thought anything through.

He trembled.

This all felt like a nightmare…

He looked at the open door to this grotesque mausoleum. It mocked him. His nerves screamed at him to run, escape, but he couldn't move. This cell really would become his mausoleum…

He ducked his head and his chocolate locks obscured his eyes, obscuring a tear that forced its way from his eye down his cheek.

Seifer reentered and approached him with a blanket. He knelt to the hard stone ground and gingerly arranged the blanket on top of Squall's quivering form, then scooped him up in his arms as easily as if he were a rag doll.

He wanted to hate the man whose arms carried him out of his prison. He wanted to despise the man that put him in that prison. However, as he felt the heat emanating from the man's body, the live pulsating beat of a heart close to his, the gentleness with which Seifer handled him, he was lulled into a passive state. He closed his eyes and curled closer into that inviting warmth, warmth he'd been deprived of for countless days.

As Seifer carried his slave and felt him relax in his arms he couldn't help but smile tenderly down at the messy chocolate locks splayed against his chest. Once they reached outside he felt Squall stir slightly, and again when they stopped in front of his carriage to nod at his servant mounted on the horse.

He stepped inside the carriage and sat down on the cushioned seat then laid Squall against him so that he was propped up and capable of seeing out the window. He was too weak to fight Seifer over his position. He was forced to lean back and relax against the hard muscle of Seifer's chest pressed fully against his back.

Seifer tapped the side of the carriage and it rocked with the initial pull of the horses and then sped off down the cobblestone streets of Galbadia.

Squall was reeling just as well as the carriage that carried him. He didn't understand Seifer's intentions, and that unsettled him, but even more was the motivation…

He didn't want to wrap his head around the notion that his captor, this slave tamer, who lacked humanity, was showing him compassion.

Compassion…

His train of thought quickly diminished as exhaustion overwhelmed him.

He didn't want to think.

He didn't want to care.

Not right now.

He just wanted to exist.

And so that mask of stoicism so eloquently wrapped his face and he blankly stared out the window, watching the markets of Galbadia unfold before his eyes for the very first time.

Squall remained still. The only indication of life from him was the subtle press of his back into Seifer's chest with the rhythmic pattern of his breathing.

Seifer studied him from his position behind the boy with all seriousness.

" Where do you think you'd go if I released you? Hm?" Seifer asked earnestly, no sarcasm or anger in his tone.

Squall blinked.

" What do you expect to do? Do you even know what's out there?" Seifer continued inquiring rhetorically.

Squall closed his eyes.

He couldn't answer.

His heart lurched as Seifer chastised him. He weakly felt anger at the stab made to his pride. How dare Seifer make him feel ashamed for wanting to escape when it was only natural?

Seifer gently combed his fingers through Squall's messy locks, and Squall's heart lurched violently in response at the hypocrisy those elegant fingers dealt.

That touch that chastised yet pacified him with their feather light strokes.

" You've never seen lands like these before. Galbadia is cruel. You wouldn't last out here." Seifer stated distantly, his fingers threading into Squall's locks then pausing.

" I'm gonna show you just how cruel it can be." Something shifted in his calm baritone voice.

Squall opened his eyes, hearing what remained unspoken.

And it made his hairs stand on edge…

As if on cue the slave markets started to unfold before him. The wealthy and poor littered the streets. Squall had never seen so many people squeezed in vicinity before. They reminded him of cockroaches, scurrying about the garbage trying to catch the best morsels before the others. But these morsels were human beings and that sickened him. They were chained, hogtied, and restrained in numerous exploitive ways on the stage, held by merchants shouting out extravagant prices and conducting bids. They were exposed to humiliating examinations before feral eyes. Their limbs and bodies contorted in ways that seemed inhumane. Hair pulled, mouths pried open, flanks spread apart, holes stretched, faces prodded… it was a zoo of humans.

Seifer's thick voice cut through his reverie, " be thankful you were spared this part of the process. I took you as you were."

His voice had a hard edge to it.

A young boy, restrained in a stock, was at the mercy of two merchants that roughly pried apart his ass cheeks for all to gaze upon his puckering entrance. Fingers were forced inside as part of the demonstration. The boy's face contorted in pain and his eyes watered in utter humiliation.

Squall's jaw clenched.

The brunet couldn't see it but Seifer's eyes narrowed.

" I never put you on display, nor will I ever." His words emphasized as his arms girded Squall tightly against his chest.

His words struck Squall. And for the first time since his captivity, he felt relief.

The carriage took them past various stages with similar public demonstrations and slave exhibitions, each one painfully striking a cord in Squall.

He was overwhelmed with a mixture of guilt and relief as he was only observing from the safety of Seifer's embrace the plight of these people. His earlier torment paled in comparison. He paled as he thought about the paradox of his situation. He same man that claimed his freedom kept him safe in his embrace.

Squall didn't know what to think anymore…

Soon the scenery turned extravagantly hedonistic and crude. Vast stages were adorned with elaborate contraptions and devices used for the most sordid acts.

Squall wanted to retch, and probably would have if he'd had any substance in his stomach. Instead he tasted the bitter bile rising in the back of his throat at the sight.

Seifer felt him tense and leaned forward and delicately brushed his lips against Squall's hair and ear in an act of comfort though he enjoyed the brunet's discomfort. It meant he was getting it…

Hot breath grazed his ear as Seifer spoke gravely, " This is the heart of the Galbadian playground. A lawless place where masters play as they please with their possessions."

The thick cords of Seifer's arm muscles girded him tight. Just thinking about his Squall perched upon one of wooden devices, exposed to all the hungry eyes and hands made him scathe with anger. No eyes but his own would lie upon the beauty in his arms.

The playground was the unofficial title given to the premise by merchants and practitioners alike. It was a hedonistic hellhole. One Seifer rarely ventured, and preferred to avoid at all costs. Because of the nature of his work he was forced to condone the playground, to curb his tongue, however he'd given Irvine an earful on several occasions for 'playing' there.

An area autonomous to any Galbadian authority attracted the vilest creatures in the country. The unlimited liberties bestowed upon masters bred the most disgusting depravity. The playground allowed for the most outrageous violation of humanity, violations no humans should be subjected to…

They made Seifer grimace in disgust.

And now Squall was going to live it vicariously through the eyes of some unfortunate soul.

And how his eyes deceived him. It seemed a sin to bear witness to the things they perceived.

Columns of flogging stages paved the path into the playground. Each stage decorated by writhing slaves, shackled and spread for the tail of the whip. There wasn't a limb left untouched. There wasn't a body left un-bloodied. One master sadistically whipped his slave's inner thighs. The young girl convulsed behind her gag, her arms pulled inhumanely tight behind her back and her legs spread and bent. He aimed to close and struck her genitalia. Squall snapped his head to the side, though he couldn't escape the sound of the whip slicing the air.

In trying to escape his eyes found a revolving wooden platform that spun round and round. The naked slaves made to clutch the uniting inner pole while their elevated ruddy buttocks were facing the crowd. Some masters held wooden paddles, others held whips, some used just their hands to spank and abuse their slave's bottoms as they came around on the merry-go-round. Any available hand was encouraged to join in, not just the respective masters.

Next to it was a tent constructed for the sheer purpose of exhibition and humiliation. It resembled a circus. It was divided into sections by short fencing. Within each section there was a master and various numbers of slaves. In one section a master was brutally impaling a long rod into a boy's ass, in another there was a master letting anyone who asked a turn to ride his slave. There was one man thrusting his cock into the slave's mouth and one in his ass. In another section there were six slaves engaging in an orgy. Their respective masters yelling lewd commands of them…

Thrust harder

Spank her

Lick him

Bite her

Fuck him

Make her come!

Squall felt his pulse spike and his wide eyes began to water.

His vision was swimming with the sight of naked bodies writhing in abandon.

Degradation surrounded him.

The air in the carriage seemed to grow thin, the foul scent of bodily secretions seeping in through the cracks.

The brunet barely registered Seifer's arms tightening around him.

Clusters of bodies moved against one another, individual limbs became indistinguishable as they melded into one.

A pyramid of human bodies humping anything their pelvises touched. Every bodily orphus filled with something, a finger, a stick, a tongue, a penis…

The exhibition of such intimacies felt utterly vile to Squall.

There was no beauty here…

He couldn't bear to witness anymore. This was torture.

His shrunken stomach curled. He wanted to retch.

His forehead collapsed against the cold glass of the window. It was only then that he realized he'd broken out into a cold sweat and Seifer was stroking his fingers nimbly along Squall's spine.

The gentle touch which once seemed so invasive was now a welcome touch.

Suddenly there came a rapping at the carriage door. Squall abruptly pushed back into Seifer's chest trying to sink into it. He wanted to put as much distant between what lie on the other side of the carriage door and himself. To his dismay the carriage slowed to a halt and the door creaked open.

Irvine flashed a devious smile upon seeing Squall before stepping inside the cozy carriage cabin and shutting the door.

There was no way he'd ever forget the face of the man that took him form his native lands. And as much as he wanted to curse, shout, spit, and attack this man, he couldn't. Squall was too exhausted, too distraught over everything that had transpired over the past week.

Relinquishing to weakness he let his head droop against Seifer's broad shoulder, resigning all thought.

At the small resignation to lean against him Seifer surged with pride. Though making eye contact with Irvine soured his mood.

" I see you let the cat out of his cage. Did you get him de-clawed? Or just decided to take him sight-seeing?" Irvine chuckled, settling into a seat across from Seifer and Squall.

Seifer narrowed his eyes dangerously, " I could ask the same of you."

Irvine cringed, knowing what was implied behind the hostile statement.

" It was strictly business." He nervously fidgeted with the brim of his hat.

The blonde shot him a sharp penetrating look. Squall could even feel it over his shoulder.

" I swear on your slave's life." Irvine urged, putting his hands up defensively.

Seifer eyed him wearily. This wasn't the first time he'd caught Irvine cavorting in the playground under false pretenses.

" The devil's playground is a wicked temptress, you'd do best to refrain from business in this part of town." The blonde chastised, readjusting Squall onto his chest.

Irvine beamed a charming smile and shook his head at his friend's reproach. His smile faltered as he glanced out the window of the carriage.

" Well, what do you know, it's the devil himself." Irvine spoke lowly.

Irvine's tone made Squall look over along with Seifer out the window.

A tall man with inky black hair and piercing eyes stood out among the crowd. His mere presence demanded an audience, equip with an aura so strong it seemed to consume every organic thing surrounding him. As was such, an eager crowd of masters with slaves attached at the hip encased this man.

Squall felt his penetrating aura permeating the carriage.

This man was dangerous.

Seifer audibly growled, recognizing the man as the Count of Monte Cristo.

The Count was entertaining himself with a young boy quivering in trepidation. The boy was made to suspend in the air by his wrists, his toes barely grazing the ground. The boy's back was to them but a myriad of welts, bruises and red gashes decorated his pallid skin. The Count ran a shiny blade across the boy's flesh lightly, teasingly, before he lacerated him. The boy held no gag as his cries could be heard through the carriage. As the weight of the boy's body slowly spun him to face the trio in the carriage, Seifer gasped.

Squall immediately veered to glance at Seifer, the strong reaction surprising. He hadn't reacted to any of the other activities on the playground.

" And the devil is as black as he painteth…" Irvine uttered somberly, not a trace of his earlier merriment present.

" That's Nida." Seifer snapped, recognizing the slave as one that had gone through his home.

Squall considered this. The man wasn't heartless after all, at least not where it concerned his slaves, past or present.

" Seifer stay out of it." Irvine warned, knowing his friend's intentions.

" This is sick!" Seifer hissed baring his teeth.

In that moment he resembled a wild animal about to strike.

Irvine tried to reason with him, " Seifer we sold him, he isn't your responsibility anymore."

" This goes against everything I stand for as a slave tamer. This is torture, not discipline!" The blonde snarled.

Squall felt the blonde's body tensing.

" Leave it, there's already enough bad blood between the two of you. If you spill blood on the playground there will be hell to pay!" Irvine retorted insistently.

" As if we aren't already in hell." Were the blonde's last fierce words before he was sliding Squall off of him and barreling out the carriage door.

Irvine aggressively scratched at the back of his head, growling low in his throat, " Obstinate fucker, will he never listen?"

Squall sat up propped against the seat, the blanket still concealing his naked limbs, though Seifer's exit left him feeling more vulnerable than ever.

His nerves were on edge. He wanted Seifer back in the carriage with him! He did not understand why but his mind screamed for Seifer to return! He did not want to be left alone with Irvine or unattended in this hedonistic hellhole! All the horrors of what could happen to him scrambled through his head. And he could only watch in angst what transpired in front of him.

Seifer propelled himself steadily through the crowd of voyeurs, yanking or throwing bystanders gruffly out of the way. The Count's back was to Seifer's barreling figure, but the blonde stopped right before the man, just as he had finished sliding the knife through Nida's skin once more.

Seifer almost choked on his own rage at the sight.

" Release him." His voice was smooth but dangerously low.

The Count turned at the voice, a sadistic smile curling his lips as he faced Seifer.

" You're out of line, this is my property, and I will do as I see fit to discipline him!" The Count spoke calmly purposefully trying to antagonize the blonde.

Seifer's nostrils flared and he used every ounce of willpower not to pummel the Count where he stood.

" If you want to get off on torturing young boys do it with your own slaves, this one is mine!" Seifer snarled through clenched teeth.

" Ah see, I bought him, you've relinquished your title to him." The Count taunted, running the sharp blade across Nida's skin once more.

Seifer's eyes dilated into orbs of glowing black.

" And I'm reclaiming him right now." His words were low and deliberate.

Both men stood in silence for a moment, eyes locked for dominance, vigilantly watching for a weak moment to overtake the other.

However, this was non-negotiable where Seifer was concerned. His hesitation had nothing to do with fear of the Count but had everything to do with prying eyes watching them.

" Release him or I will make you." Seifer commanded his lips pressed into a tight line.

The Count stood his ground for a moment, and then his eyes scanned the audience. Everyone was watching. Reluctant to lose face in public to Seifer again, he yielded.

His lips curled up and he growled before he sliced his blade through the air, severing the noose that held Nida's wrists bound above him.

The boy fell unceremoniously into a heap on the ground. Seifer was by his instantly, shrugging his coat off and wrapping it around his abused body. Seifer gathered Nida in his arms and stood to leave, but just as he was, the Count dipped his head down to Seifer's ear.

" You are out of line! You will repay me doubly what you have taken from me. I will see to that…" He hissed venomously into Seifer's ear.

The blonde steeled himself and strode back towards his carriage.

Squall gawked in silence at the blonde's fierce display of dominance. Without so much as raising his voice he got a frighteningly powerful master to submit. Squall understood now why Seifer was the most revered slave tamer in the lands. People cowered in fear and people bowed in respect. The man was a walking contradiction.

And as Seifer returned with a wounded slave cradled in his arms Squall felt and odd combination of relief and respect. He just witnessed a master commit sacrilege in the playground for the safety of a slave. It was unheard of. And yet, no one disputed him.

Irvine moved to sit next to Squall, allowing Nida to splay out on the seat, his head cradled in Seifer's lap. The boy moaned in pain and winced as Seifer grazed a few open wounds. Seifer hushed him and stroked the side of his face tenderly.

" Seifer, Seifer… now what? You going to keep him?" Irvine breathed wearily.

Seifer looked up abruptly, one stray strand of golden hair flopping in front of his eyes, " I'm going to heal him first."

Squall blinked.

This side of Seifer was foreign to Squall. He was having a hard time wrapping his already racked brain around it all.

But as they rode back with nothing but Nida's pained moans as their music, Squall realized that this was the first time he was around Seifer and the man did not try to touch him.

He did not notice him either…

* * *

TBC…

Author Notes: I don't know if anyone picked up on it, but I used one of my favorite lines from a song. Theatre of Tragedy – Black as he painteth! It's my ode to TOT for being such a wonderful band! I hope everyone has read the latest installment of Arcane Crisis by Chemotaxis, the girl is brilliant! And everyone read Fcuked Up by xxperfectxdrugxx, it made my day!

Give me my fuel and I'll give you those chapters ridden with sex scenes!

Love you all!!


	8. Brother's Sleep and Death gird soundly

A/N: Let me as always apologize for the delayed update. I tried something new with this chapter. It is very stylized and I tried to imitate a stream of consciousness as from Squall's POV while he is in and out of awareness. Let me know if it flows. I had a lot of fun writing it!

* * *

Master Of Slaves

By: Baby Chiba

Chapter 8: Brother's Sleep and Death gird soundly

* * *

All eyes were on Nida.

His eyes were on Nida.

Heavy hoofs beat against the cobblestone.

They beat against his brain.

Like a war drum.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

All he heard was the dull pounding against his ears.

Keeping his eyes focused became a labor.

All he could smell was the heady scent of lacerated flesh.

A groan.

Was it his?

Was it Nida's?

The carriage jostled over a bump.

He sunk further into his seat.

Or had he been this far down to begin with?

His legs… he couldn't feel them again.

Had Seifer slipped him something earlier that he hadn't noticed?

No…

There it was again.

The brothers death and sleep girding his heavy head, whispering sweet distortions in his ears.

One holding a scythe,

One a blanket.

Cruel yet considerate masters… masters…

Stormy eyes turned to Seifer.

Cruel and considerate peridot eyes burned through him.

He blinked.

Suddenly there was silent calamity around him. A cacophony of movement.

His sensory systems coming and going.

Strange calloused hands were moving him.

They weren't Seifer's.

Seifer's were on Nida.

He heard something to the effect of, " take Squall inside."

A strangled scream.

A vision of a raven-haired girl.

Rinoa.

Commands.

Ready a bath.

Medical supplies.

Food.

Something soft beneath him.

A bed.

Seifer's?

His muscles unconsciously tensed as his stream of consciousness swam through memories of being bound to his bed.

His brain forced him into a more conscious awareness due to the conditioned rage at being in this bed.

His eyes snapped open and he arched with a sharp inhale.

When had he closed them?

He was propped up on Seifer's plush bed against the headboard. Though Seifer was not with him, Irvine was.

The man's violet eyes were solemnly turned away him.

Squall followed his line of vision.

Silence surrendered to sound as he witnessed through a door ajar, Seifer and Nida.

Nida,

Naked,

In a bath,

Convulsing

Seifer,

Washrag in hand,

Bloody washrag…

Howls of pain as the stinging anesthetic touched his exposed flesh.

So visceral…

The bath water tinged murky red.

The two figures danced before his eyes, wavering into colors and out of coherence.

Irvine wordlessly craned his neck to look behind him. As he followed, a scream blurred his reverie, and as his eyes reached their destination, Rinoa stood there.

She swayed elegantly but collapsed rather awkwardly.

His stormy eyes twitched as he watched in slow motion her fall from grace followed by the shrill shattering of glass tubes and medical supplies onto the floor.

At some point Seifer had stalked out from the bathroom and stood at the foot of the bed by Irvine. His lips drawn tightly. He surveyed the mess with a stern look etched across his face. Droplets of water dripped from the hem of his sleeves and shirt.

Red drops.

Drip.

Drip.

Drop.

In a whirl of color he returned to the bath chambers.

With a look that would have been considered comical Irvine scratched his head and stared down at Rinoa's body. Gingerly he picked the unconscious servant girl from the floor and indecisively traveled across the room with her, searching for a suitable place to deposit her. Somewhere non-invasive to Seifer's space.

A ragged moan.

Nida again?

A soothing litany of hushes.

Seifer?

A breathy curse.

Irvine?

The violet-eyed man was stooped over the strewn glass shards and was holding his finger that bled crimson.

Teetering between the dimensions beyond consciousness and sleep Squall felt his finger twitch and curl involuntarily towards his upturned palm.

And it twitched again.

Then his eyelid.

A sensation that felt like a blade had been wedged between his ribs and dug through his sides into his stomach.

The blade wrenched and twisted.

Wrench, twist, stab, twist, twist, wrench…

Hyne, please take the sensations away again…

He prayed paralysis to claim him in those moments of excruciating pain.

Reminders of his reality…

Clammy warmth touched his forehead.

He opened his eyes…when had they shut again?

Seifer's wet hand on his forehead.

He looked up into penetratingly visceral eyes.

He heard soft groans. Too close to be coming from Nida.

They were his.

How long had he been vocal?

Was that why Seifer was now by his side?

That wet hand stroked his matted hair from his forehead.

Was his hand wet or was that his own perspiration?

His pupils dilated and Seifer's face came into full focus.

His mouth was moving; he was speaking. So why couldn't he hear anything?

And then the delayed sounds reached his ears.

" Will you willingly rest?" The deep voice spoke, soft as silk.

Willingly?

Right now he was close to begging the brother sleep to steal him away.

It hit him then.

The blonde thought he would continue to resist him…

As if sleep was an entity that could be controlled…narcissistic bastard…

He felt his muscle memory work into a familiar glare.

His stern features went soft, and for a moment he saw vulnerability between the crevices of the blonde's flesh.

Human after all…

In a blur of movement he was gone and returned with a glass tube filled with a pinkish liquid.

He held it up to Squall's lips and tilted it into his mouth, one hand bracing his chin, much to Squall's chagrin.

The cool liquid was soothing on his dry throat. It held a sweet aftertaste. His limbs instantaneously felt lighter and the sharp pangs of the blade eased into a dull throb at his sides.

It became a labor to hold his lids open. Against his will his vision went from a full array of color to darkness.

A concoction of sleep and potion in the water…

Willingly?

Apparently not…

* * *

He stirred amidst his slumber and felt something warm against his back.

Groggily he separated his eyelashes.

It was dark. Night…

He was in Seifer's room… in his bed…

His wrist involuntarily twitched…muscle memory… no bondage.

Relief…

He could move, barely.

Craning his neck to look behind him at the warmth at his back he saw Nida through foggy eyes.

The rhythmic rise and fall of the boy's bandaged chest meant he was alive, just barely… in the realm of sleep.

It looked as if Seifer had tried to mummify him with the amount of white gauze that covered his flesh, damp white gauze, dampened with still spilling blood.

Squall laid his head upon the pillow and willed himself back into his purgatory of slumber, unwilling to deal with the impending mental on slaughter of reality, however aware of its arrival.

* * *

Day.

Awake again.

He felt conscious anyway…more so than he had for the past few days…

He flexed his fist, feeling the blood pulsate in his fingertips for the first time in days.

A smile cracked his lips.

Just a little longer…

Out of curiosity he peered behind him to see if Nida was still breathing.

He was, and so was another body curled up behind Nida.

That of Seifer.

The ever-vigilant master and caretaker…

Probably monitoring Nida's condition periodically out of…out of what?

Compassion?

Duty?

Civility?

He felt dizzy. Those war drums pounding in his ears again.

He beckoned sleep again; he had become skilled in the ways of calling his dear friend and foe.

Just a little longer he reminded himself…

* * *

Night.

He uncurled his heavy limbs and stretched.

Nida was still sleeping soundly at his side. However the blonde was not beside the healing boy.

Slowly he sat up in bed. His robe falling off his right shoulder, the pale flesh glowing against the blue moonlight.

Stealthily he slid off the bed, landing with a silent thud of his heels against the wood floor.

He padded on unsteady legs towards the door that would lead him into the labyrinth of Seifer's manor.

Through the murky gloom of the night he saw emerald eyes flash.

His heart lodged in his throat and he stopped, swaying ever so slightly on buckling knees.

With a catlike grace Seifer stepped out of the shadows and into a pool of moonlight before Squall.

They stood in silence for moments. A calm resignation shadowing Seifer's face.

He had expected this…

But so had Squall…

" It's always gonna be sour grapes with you boy…" Seifer breathed huskily.

Squall blinked in solemn acknowledgment.

The blonde sighed softly, and then delicately pulled the fallen robe sleeve over his slave's exposed shoulder, keeping his eyes at bay.

Squall made no move to stop or reprimand him.

Seifer stepped away from him and ambled towards the balcony windows, where the moon seemed to be perched upon his terrace.

Squall watched him in silence before his feet slowly found their way next to him.

Moonlight…

He hadn't seen it for days since his captivity.

His slender hands cautiously touched the cold glass windowpanes.

Seifer watched him, then reached down past Squall's fingers and unlatched the balcony doors.

The resounding click got Squall's attention and he snapped his neck towards Seifer in surprise.

But all the blonde could think was how suitable the color blue was for his slave…

With a gentle push the doors swung open eloquently as if the terrace were a stage and Squall was being presented with the entertainment of the moon's antics.

They stepped out onto the stage together. With each step Squall felt he was closer to standing on the moon in all her benevolent and serene elegance.

He breathed deep the stale night air.

Beneath the moon's extended arms her creatures slept, all the chaos stilled, if only until morning.

His mind stilled as well.

He wasn't ready to deal with the reality of his situation yet.

Let it wait until morning…

Let him steal away a civil moment with the man who wanted to conquer him.

Why?

He thought back to the deed of rescuing Nida, that glimmer of compassion reminded Squall that Seifer was human as well…

He couldn't make a monster out of this master of the manor.

But that didn't change what he was to Squall… an obstacle in the way of his freedom.

He promised himself he would be free…and that promise still burned bright inside him.

So then how was he able to stand shoulder to shoulder with this man in peace?

He shivered.

Why was he so cold?

Suddenly his limbs sought the warmth of the plush comforter. And back into hibernation the brunet went.

Seifer followed him back.

The blonde took his place among the shadows against the wall and crossed his arms and ankles.

His eyes drank in the sight of pale exposed skin bathed in blue, and an aura that glowed bright despite it all.

Carnal lust danced across his face along with the cavorting shadows.

And his heart lurched painfully.

* * *

Once the spot next to him had long lost it's warmth, Squall finally stirred. Having grown accustomed to the strange warmth that emanated from Nida's body he recognized its absence immediately upon waking. He gingerly sat up wondering if the boy had rolled off the bed and injured himself in the night.

His foggy eyes landed on a messy mop of hair on the floor.

He blinked in silent disbelief.

Nida's forehead kissed the ground, his legs curled up beneath him.

Squall's stomach churned with disgust as he realized what Nida was doing.

The injured slave was bowed in this utterly submissive pose, proving his subservience to Seifer.

This must be what 'slaves' were trained to do…

The simple display, however innocent, seemed crude to Squall.

He thought of the connotation behind kneeling before a master as he watched Nida's unabashed form. The resulting image made the heat rise in his cheeks at the first image that entered his mind.

Treacherous mind…

He rubbed the corners of his eyes, residual war drums dulling in his ears.

He couldn't watch Nida in his ridiculous pose.

It made him sick.

It made him angry.

The weakness, the submission, the defeat…

He wanted to scream at the boy. Ask him what he was doing and why!? Ask him why he stayed put if he was well enough to run?!

And just as he was about to shout at the boy he heard the familiar clanking of chains.

His stomach knotted and he felt an overwhelming urge to vomit.

He knew that sound all too well.

His body had conditioned itself to react adversely to that sickening clanking sound, the sound of his freedom about to be taken away from him.

Dread immobilized him.

And the blonde pushed the door open.

The moment of truth…

And revealed four sets of shackles dangling from his hands, and a tray of food.

For a second their eyes connected.

Squall's skin crawled. It felt like a thousand tiny insects marching across his back and arms.

Nida dipped his head even further on the ground as Seifer emerged from behind the door, his backside tilting upwards.

" Master! Thank you so much for your kindness! I am forever in your debt." The words flew from Nida's mouth in a jumble.

Seifer tore his eyes from Squall to the subservient slave sprawled on the floor. He'd barely registered the jumble that came from Nida's mouth.

It took a moment, but slowly a genuine smile spread across Seifer's lips.

He regarded his slave with a nostalgic tenderness in his eyes.

He was pleased to have trained such a faithful slave.

Yes, Nida was indeed the ideal slave.

" Master! Let me live here with you and do your bidding, it is the only way I am capable of repaying you!" Nida plead in earnest, lifting his head from the ground and settling on all fours in front of Seifer's feet.

Seifer's golden brows arched at the request and a playful smile tugged at his lips.

" No payment is necessary Nida. I did what any decent master would have done." Seifer answered honestly.

" Then allow me to offer myself to you! Have me! For I want no other master but you!" Nida replied with a trembling voice.

Seifer was slightly taken aback by the tone in Nida's voice and the outlandish request, and so he said the first thing that came to him.

" No Nida. I cannot keep you. We will find you a suitable master this time." Seifer spoke softly as he began striding past Nida towards Squall.

Nida veered his neck and watched with glossy eyes as Seifer walked past him, disregarded him, denied him. Emotion clogged his throat and he began to pant as tears threatened to escape.

" Cannot or will not master?" Nida choked out on the verge of tears, the jealousy barely hidden in his voice.

Seifer halted.

He hadn't expected such an extreme response from Nida. As a master his initial reaction was to reprimand Nida for speaking out of line. However, he didn't reprimand Nida.

Any master would be lucky to have such a devoted slave so willing to please.

So then why couldn't Seifer keep him?

He could.

However, he didn't want to.

Why?

Nida was the image of perfection Seifer had molded him to be.

Why didn't he want him?

He pondered this as he gazed into stormy eyes shining with defiance.

Because he wanted this wild-eyed boy ready to spring from his bed and leap out the window.

Because all he could see was Squall.

All he wanted was Squall.

The world around him paled when the lithe boy was in his sight.

He turned his head slightly towards Nida.

" Come onto the bed so I can dress your wounds." Was the blonde's solemn response.

Nida let his head fall between his arms in anguish. He slowly crawled onto his feet and dragged them across the floor onto his master's bed.

Squall watched the exchange. He caught Seifer's expression at the accusation, and the shift in his demeanor as he set his eyes upon him.

He didn't understand why Seifer wouldn't have Nida.

He couldn't fathom why Seifer wouldn't take Nida! If it was a slave he wanted why not take the one that would willingly serve? Why was he necessary? Why was Seifer so fixated on him? Why couldn't he just be released?!

He ground his teeth with a newfound anger towards this confusion.

Seifer intended to keep him…

The civic allegiance from last night nothing more than a distant dream.

His eyes glowed with a familiar fervor.

Seifer put the tray of food in front of Squall.

He looked paradoxically apologetic and excited at the prospect of adorning Squall with his favorite bondage.

" These wouldn't be necessary if you would promise me you wouldn't run." Seifer soft softly, the chains rattling in his hands.

Squall seethed internally, defiantly glaring into the blonde's sea-green eyes.

" But I know you'd run despite." He continued as he dexterously began to fasten the bonds onto his wrists and ankles.

Squall defied half-heartedly, jerking away to make it harder for Seifer to slap the cold metal on him. He knew he wasn't recovered enough yet to actually take the blonde on.

And Seifer glared half-heartedly.

The brunet's condition and spirit had improved drastically. He was in no rush to mar that.

So Seifer was willing to allow his futile rebelliousness…at least, for the time being.

The brunet glared down at the heavy metal weighing his limbs down. These shackles allowed him minimal freedom to move his arms and legs; however, they were heavier than the more restrictive ones.

He supposed that was the trade off.

" Eat something, or I will force feed you." Seifer ordered sternly, pointing to the platter of food in front of him.

Squall glared, but the grumbling in his stomach betrayed him.

Seifer chuckled and Squall snarled as he bowed his head, snatching up a piece of fruit and shoving it in his mouth angrily.

He felt like he was on display as Seifer watched him viciously chew the juicy piece of fruit. It was unnerving, and so he turned his body and bowed his head even more instinctually to hide himself.

" Good boy." Seifer purred, sensing Squall's growing anxiety.

He then crossed around to the other side of the bed to tend to Nida.

Squall chose to ignore those last words because his hunger was finally being sated. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was extremely grateful for the food.

Nida was positioned on his knees, his arms drawn tight behind his back in another trained submissive pose.

His chin was turned down in resentment. He did not attempt to mask his dismay at being rejected.

Seifer patted the bed in a sign for Nida to sit.

Nida obeyed.

" How are you feeling today?" The blonde's deep voice rumbled out in question.

Nida tilted his head away from Seifer and his eyes fell on the silent brunet next to him shoveling food into his mouth.

This boy had replaced him and stole his master's affection. He tried to place what was so special about this boy that had enraptured his master so.

Seifer caught the subtle action and chuckled.

He curled his thumb and index finger under Nida's chin and turned it towards him.

" Come now. Don't be like that."

That silky voice forced Nida to smile, " I'm sorry Master. I am feeling much better thanks to you. I am very gracious."

He had his master's attention now; let him not sully the mood with his grievances.

" I'm glad to hear that. Let's look at you."

Seifer redressed Nida's wounds, taking most of the mummification off and wrapping only what was necessary.

Squall continued to stuff himself full of light foods. His stomach protested but he gorged himself with the intent of expediting his recovery to challenge Seifer over his freedom once again.

He felt very faint after his meal.

He had eaten too quickly…

He laid his head against the pillow, with no intention of falling asleep again, just to rest his heavy head.

He shifted trying to find a comfortable position with his new heavy chains. He found none, and so surrendered to laying them over his stomach.

He did not intend to fall asleep, however the sleep sprites thought otherwise and sprinkled their magical dust into his eyes and made them droop.

The last thing he heard was Seifer chuckling softly.

* * *

TBC…

A/N: I am again sorry for the long delay! My major doesn't permit me a proper sleep or eating schedule and so I have to compromise. I have a small break coming up shortly, I hope to pump out the next chapter!!

What did you all think of the style?

Let me know! Did you love it? Hate it? Not care?

Gimme that criticism!


	9. Porphyria

A/N: Sprocket I love you! I'm so happy someone caught my Puscifer quote!!! When people pick up on the little things it makes the whole endeavor worthwhile! So thank you again!

I'm going to take the opportunity here to promote my story Gravity Defied. If you haven't read it please do, I think it's one of my better pieces! If you like my style, you'll love this story!

* * *

Master of Slaves

By: Baby Chiba

Chapter 9: Porphyria

Dedication: To Sprocket, Angels-Obsession, my new friend uruwashii uso, and the ever lovely Chemotaxis

* * *

Porphyria

Blood-fire.

It smoldered in his darkening eyes.

The passion to fight, the anger to main, the will to kill…

He seldom saw it in his slaves. He scarcely saw it in most men.

And it set his loins aflame.

Like an obour starved for blood, tasting with only the tip of his forked tongue, the essence of man.

It wasn't enough.

It was intoxicating.

It was riveting. The sight of pale naked flesh subdued by those heavy bonds. Stretched out and splayed for his hungry eyes to feast.

And how his tongue twitched to taste where the metallic touched.

Those smoldering eyes narrowed and burned into his.

He yanked at his chains.

A dark smile touched the blonde's lips as he bowed his head and continued writing on his parchment.

His quill vigorously scratched upon the parchment, a letter to an unknown. It was the only sound heard through the vast den for some time before Squall yanked at his chains again.

His movements were swift and definitive. Not attempts at escape, but calculating taunts aimed towards his captor.

He darted his emerald eyes sharply towards the fiery brunet across the room.

The brunet had been doing this all afternoon.

Squall would wait until Seifer steeled himself to his work and then he would clank and clatter against his chains, in what proved a potent distraction.

With each clatter the blonde's cock twitched.

It took a great deal of concentration to settle his nerves and focus on his task once more.

Then the persistent brunet would clank again.

He was playing a game with the blonde.

Deep within those smoldering gray eyes were the embers of mischief.

He knew Seifer wouldn't lay a hand on him. And if he didn't…he was testing him.

Seifer couldn't help but beam at his slave's vindictive playfulness.

It put him on edge.

However, his pride hindered him from simply taking the brunet by force. He was consumed with the desire to make the brunet submit. It would make his conquest that much sweeter.

Nida perched his chin on Seifer's thigh from his knelt position on the floor. Seifer tore his eyes away from Squall and gently ran his fingers through Nida's locks.

He unconsciously continued combing Nida's hair as he went about with his quill and tried in vain to forget about the half naked torment chained to his den wall.

Another jerk at his restrictive links and Seifer stilled his quill.

" I wouldn't have to keep you chained if you weren't so obstinate Squall." Seifer hummed in mocking satisfaction.

At the use of his name his jaw tightened and he tugged with even more force at his bondage in defiance.

Seifer shut his eyes and exhaled slowly.

He was only a man.

And as it were, he was tempted, too tempted to continue in this state of arousal.

He rose slowly from his seat; Nida's head sliding off his thigh, lifting his eyes sharply like that of a predator towards Squall.

Squall met his eyes with equal fervor, refusing to shrink away from Seifer's advancing figure.

Seifer stood towering above Squall, his eyes level with Seifer's crotch, just inches from his face.

Squall tried to look past the giant bulge that stretched the fabric of his pants and into the man's face, but the angle was too sharp for his neck.

He tore his face to the side, scrunching his eyes at the incredible heat from Seifer's crotch. It scorched his cheeks.

Above him the towering blonde chuckled, his fingers curling under Squall's chin and lifting it to meet with the noticeable bulge.

" Do you know what seeing such a pretty thing tied up does to me?" Seifer purred.

Squall recoiled from the hot hand that stained his cheeks brilliant rouge, much to Squall's chagrin.

The intimacy of such closeness with another man made his body react in ways that conflicted with his mind.

He ground his teeth in silent resentment of his body,

And Seifer.

He didn't loathe the man, as much as he wanted to, and it didn't help that the blonde was attractive, and that heat! The dreaded heat against his face and neck pooling from Seifer's midsection made his stomach curl in knots.

Seifer chuckled again, " I'd be careful if I were you not to taunt me so."

At the challenge Squall snapped back viciously, " You won't touch me."

Seifer came down to level his eyes with Squall, and pressed their foreheads together, their scars perfect mirrors.

" Are you so sure? You are my property." Seifer breathed softly against Squall's lips.

The brunet's pupils dilated at being called 'property'.

" Fuck you."

Seifer pulled back before Squall could head butt him and stood to his full height.

He eyed him warily, a smile twinkling in his eyes.

" In time…" Seifer uttered before turning away from the brunet.

Squall yanked roughly at his chains again and again. Embarrassment and anger intermingled into one unpleasant ball of discomfort in his stomach.

Seifer snapped his fingers and called Nida's name. The obedient slave crawled rapidly towards his master and followed him into an adjacent room.

Watching the boy still freshly healed follow at Seifer's heels like some hound disgusted Squall.

He had yet to fathom how any human being could degrade themselves in such a manner. Since this morning he'd wanted to scream at Nida.

A deep masculine moan tore him from his thoughts.

Squall craned his neck in the direction of it, the adjacent room the duo retreated to.

It came again, a very audible, startling moan.

It came from Seifer's mouth. It was too deep to be Nida's.

Squall quirked a brow.

He curiously leaned forward.

He didn't want to think of where his curiosity stemmed from.

Another moan.

His arms were pulled taut behind his back and his neck craned as far as it could go in order to see what was going on.

And what he witnessed would be forever burned into his retinas.

His breath hitched in his throat.

The blonde stood with his trousers unbuttoned and his thick length protruding in all its glory.

Nida knelt before him and wrapped his lips around the throbbing length.

Seifer threaded his fingers through Nida's chocolate locks and shallowly thrust his hips into the boy's open mouth.

Squall swallowed hard.

He should have been disgusted; he should have turned away.

He was frozen in place, unable to turn his eyes away from Nida's lips around Seifer's member.

Squall could see the tightened flesh glistened with saliva as Nida's lips pulled off Seifer's cock with a pop.

Seifer moaned loudly again in his very masculine way and pushed Nida onto his shaft again.

Nida took it all so gracefully.

He was no amateur to the act.

This must have been a routine part of Nida's 'slave' training that Seifer provided.

Squall's cheeks burned.

Squall was no stranger to the act, but he had never been the voyeur before.

He had never witnessed the gentle cave of the cheeks that occurred from the suction, or the delicate flush that spread from the neck to the cheeks, to the tip of a weeping cock.

He felt anger; he felt offense; he felt embarrassment.

He was no voyeur, and yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

But it was human nature, these voyeuristic tendencies.

And he was only human.

He felt guilty; he felt disgusted; he felt intrigued.

Seifer's breathing picked up and both he and Squall watched as his thick shaft was sheathed and unsheathed by Nida's skilled mouth.

He felt hot, he felt panicked, and then he felt a pang of heat rush to his groin.

Squall furrowed his brows and shot a look down between his own legs.

He cursed his betraying body as his own length started coming to life and blessed his stars that he had the robe partially covering his lap.

He ground his teeth and whispered a litany of profane curses, while frantically trying to will his erection away.

This shouldn't be arousing.

This should be revolting!

And yet, he turned his eyes back towards Seifer's impressive erection as it twitched within Nida's hot mouth.

Seifer did not arouse him, not the man or the man's organ.

It was only natural that seeing such a sexual act would bring one to a state of excitement.

It was human nature.

And he was only a man…

Or so he tried to convince himself.

He blamed the blonde's perversions for his state of arousal.

He had manipulated him!

That was the litany he screamed repeatedly in his head while he watched with eyes wide as saucers Seifer's hips buck and seed spill into Nida's waiting mouth.

For a suspended second in time he gaped as Nida lapped at the softening cock. Squall then turned away, cheeks hot with shame.

Bastard…

He was disgusted with himself, confused by the conflict between his body and mind.

He suddenly felt small and vulnerable. The last person he wanted to confront was Seifer. He wanted to hide but those damned chains prevented him from escaping!

Fucking bastard!

The bastard that took his freedom!

A dangerous growl escaped his throat and he tugged ferociously against his bondage, pulling tight enough for the shackles to cut into his wrists.

Moments later Seifer emerged to the sound and arched a brow at Squall.

The boy's eyes were black and his chest heaved with the force of his hard breathing.

The boy was trembling. It was slight but Seifer noticed it.

A smug smile played on his lips.

So he was not all fire and rage…

This provoked him.

Hands on hips he stood haughty as ever.

" Did you like what you saw?"

Squall grimaced.

Seifer grinned.

" If you behave I'll grant you the same privilege." Seifer teased.

Squall violently lurched forward in his chains.

" You fucking pig!" He hissed.

That damn smirk reappeared on his lips.

" Nida, ask the servants to prepare some food. Squall and I must have a little talk." Seifer commanded without breaking eye contact with the brunet.

" Yes Master." Nida meekly replied and bowed before scurrying on all fours out the den and to the kitchen.

The sight was enough to make Squall audibly growl, and then he snapped his neck to Seifer who casually leaned against his desk, arms crossed over his chest and legs at the ankles.

" I want nothing to do with you."

Terse and venomous.

Seifer pushed off his desk and gamboled leisurely over to Squall.

" Ah, but on contrar." Seifer hummed happily, while crouching to become eye level with Squall once again.

Squall recoiled his limbs as far back as he could from the blonde, knowing, and fearing where it might lead.

And his fears were confirmed.

In one swift and merciless motion Seifer yanked the robe from Squall's lap, revealing the brunet's erect cock that jut from between his pale thighs.

" Well, well…" Seifer chuckled, his voice laden with lust as his eyes unabatedly soaked in the sultry sight.

Trembling with pure mortification Squall was forced to turn his eyes away from Seifer. His thighs tense and his muscles pulled taut in trying to close his legs and hide his humiliation between them.

Just watching the man watching him was too much.

And though his nerves were frayed, his rage sang.

" You disgust me!" Squall growled coarsely.

" Your body says otherwise." Seifer retorted arrogantly.

A brief moment of silence filtrated the room. It was the heaviest silence Squall had ever had to bear. Though his head was tilted away from the blonde, he knew the blonde's eyes were all over his most intimate areas.

Squall swallowed hard, the hairs on his skin rising.

Seifer hummed with a lick to his lips and broke that burdening silence.

" I could remedy this."

Squall's heart skipped two beats, one of fear and one of excitement. His body's reaction made his stomach curl.

At ends Squall tensed even more, his muscles quivering. He whipped his head around at Seifer.

" Don't touch me!" He made sure his voice was as adamant as his eyes.

However Seifer was the master at discerning details. And he caught the small sparkle of uncertainty in those dark glossy eyes.

And his took on the visage of a predator.

" No, I won't. I said I could, not that I would." Seifer's silkily sharp voice sliced through his accusation.

He leaned in to Squall, his lips grazing the boy's ear, " Only good boys get release." And delivered a light lick to his lobe.

Squall inhaled sharply and shivered from the overwhelming heat coursing through his veins.

His rage faltered.

It was hard to keep defiant when it felt so good.

His loins burned. Squall knew it was beyond a matter of pride. On a basic physiological level, he needed release.

However, he would never ask this man to grant him that. His body would suffer in his defiance.

Pulling away Seifer chuckled lewdly. He eyed the way the boy's pale skin was flushed, like a rash that had started at his groin and swept over his body.

" If you'd let me be the generous master I want to be with you I could show you the more enjoyable aspects that come with being a slave." Seifer spoke huskily.

Squall let his eyes slide shut, his body succumbing to his mind, though he fought it, valiantly.

" Like sucking you off?" Squall breathed harshly, eyes snapping open sharply.

Seifer stood to his full looming height and chuckled again.

" Nida volunteers himself for that. He is under no obligation to do so, just as he is under no obligation to stay here with me, but he does… why do you think that is?" Seifer goaded in his rich baritone voice.

" Because you've bewitched him." Squall snapped back.

Seifer laughed.

Squall fought to control his ragged breaths. This was a losing battle. And he was not ready for that. He settled for silence trying to separate the anger from the despair from the excitement. He closed his eyes to do so, but his ears remained alert.

They followed Seifer's retreating footsteps and taunting laughter.

He heard him rummage through his desk.

" I've given you too many liberties as of late. It's time you had a reminder of your place." The blonde proclaimed with only a hint of amusement edging his words.

" Because these shackles aren't reminder enough?" Squall spoke in a deceivingly steady tone.

Seifer hummed and pulled something from his desk. Squall heard his heavy boots ambling towards him once again and felt the gust of wind swept over his feverish body.

Seifer crouched in front of Squall.

Squall felt his shadow fall over his body. He shivered, unwilling to open his eyes and let the man catch him in a state of vulnerability.

The blonde's voice came out smooth and sultry, " Once you were able to claim release by your own hand, now it will be by mine and mine alone."

Squall felt hot heavy hands on his exposed erection.

His eyes nearly bulged from their sockets.

Those hands roughly slide something over the tip and rolled it down his shaft to the base of his straining cock.

His protests dyed in his throat as a strangled groan followed the pain that accompanied the strange device placed upon him.

The hands abruptly left him then.

His cock throbbed. The blood pulsated and turned his shaft an angry red.

" Your body belongs to me. This shall serve as your reminder." Seifer whispered gruffly, lust coloring his words.

Aghast, Squall looked at the painfully obtrusive object strangling his erection.

A black rubber ring hugged his shaft tightly. It pressed against the protruding vein on the underside of his member.

It prevented release.

Eyes still wide in shock, he stuttered a slew of incoherent words.

Seifer smirked darkly.

" This is the sign of my ownership over you." That deep voice dripped with desire.

Squall felt dizzy.

" Fucking bastard! Take it off! Take it off! Now!" Squall seethed in blood-curdling rage.

Seifer chuckled ominously and his knuckles stroked Squall's red-hot cheek.

Squall jerked away and lurched forward against his bondage. He yanked against his chains not caring that the cuffs were cutting into his wrists and small rivets of blood leaked down his arms.

He was ravenous.

He only saw visions of breaking Seifer's neck.

" Take it off!" The brunet screamed against the violent clanking of his chains.

Seifer merely smirked, a dark craving gleaming in his eyes.

" You will earn release from me. You will ask for it." Seifer said in soft passion.

" Fucking snake! I'll kill you! Let me go! Fucking let me go!" The brunet continued to roar.

" It is uncomfortable, I know. But it isn't enough to do any real harm to your organ." Seifer continued over the cacophony of curses and threats from the brunet.

Squall's heart was pounding wildly in his ears. He heard it louder than the metal shackles that clanged against each other and the wall behind him.

If he was cursing at Seifer he didn't distinguish it from the rest of the discordant sound in the room, but when Seifer spoke it cut through the sound like a blade, right into Squall's chest.

He was heaving and panting in his exertion.

He was panicked.

He felt dizzy.

How could this be happening? No… this was a nightmare. This couldn't be happening!

Why?

Why?

Why?

All the while hawk like jade eyes pierced through him. They watched him for a few moments. Scrutinizing, judging, allowing the uproar to continue. And then he snaked his hand out abruptly and roughly wound his fingers around Squall's neck.

His head was slammed against the wall in Seifer's forcefulness. Those fingers gripped his pale neck with bruising vigor, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. They curled tighter and tighter with a power that reminded Squall that he was at the mercy of this man. And so he was silenced.

Squall swallowed with some effort as his neck was craned up. Seifer could feel his Adam's apple bobbing under his palm. When all that was heard was Squall gasping roughly for breaths under Seifer's fingers he spoke.

" That's better." He spoke dangerously soft. " Now… you will always be half hard with this ring around you."

His burning green eyes dropped down to Squall's lap.

Squall squirmed but he was held firmly in place.

" I will remove it periodically, but conditionally." With the last word he looked straight into Squall's stormy silver eyes.

" My conditions are; that you must earn it, and that you must ask for it." Seifer said sternly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Squall wheezed violently through his teeth.

Seifer only tightened his hold and Squall stilled and silenced completely. The intake of air became impossible.

Seifer could hear the brunet's heart pumping vigorously under his flesh and bone. The boy's eyes became tiny pinpoints of black, the silver flushing the black away.

" Defy me all you like, but even the strongest of men have fallen to this restriction. You are only a man, and you need this freedom. Remember that." With that Seifer released his hold on Squall's neck.

The brunet fell forward like a broken rag doll held up only by his tattered strings. He coughed and wheezed violently, his lungs trying to compensate for the lack of oxygen in them. Small streaks of saliva fell from his lips and dribbled down his chin. His whole body drooped in trembling exhaustion. He felt phantom fingers curling brutally around his sore neck. He couldn't see the white imprint of a hand staining his skin.

Seifer watched as Squall's coughing fit dissipated into silence. He watched him still as he conceded to defeat and recognition.

His disheveled locks shrouded his wide eyes as he finally looked up at Seifer's dark silhouette towering over him.

" Do we have an understanding?" Seifer more demanded than asked.

For a moment it seemed as if Squall would concede and nod his silent consent.

However, that was just wishful thinking on Seifer's part.

" Go to hell." Squall hissed hoarsely, his throat stinging.

Seifer huffed and crouched down, grabbed a fistful of Squall's hair and yanked his neck back.

" We'll see…" Seifer promised in a menacingly low pitch.

Seifer was impressed to see that though the boy was visible shaken, his eyes held strong. Silver battled jade for dominance, neither yielding until a foreign voice interrupted.

" Um, Master." A timid female voice said.

Rinoa stood indecisively under the threshold of the door in a defensive stance. She couldn't hold eye contact with her irate Master as he snapped his eyes from Squall to her.

She nervously wrung her hands in her apron as she spoke, " Sir Kinneas requests an audience." She paused a fraction of a second, but it came out sounding like a stutter, " shall I show him up, Sir?"

She loathed interrupting her master, especially when it came to the slaves. She squirmed with discomfort towards the acts she witnessed, and acts of the past. Doing her job made her feel like a perverse voyeur during training sessions. And though she longed for that kind of attention from her master she was repulsed to watch it unfold upon others.

With every slave trained under his roof she felt a pang of betrayal wrench her heart.

She watched her master look on at her but say nothing for a moment. The hand still wrung in Squall's hair disturbing her. She felt utterly vulnerable under his strong gaze. His eyes then darted past her at Nida kneeling on the floor at her heels with a tray of food arranged orderly before him. His head bowed obediently. There was no telling how long he had been sitting there waiting for his master to summon him in.

The residual glaze melted from his eyes and he looked back to his servant girl with the proper reservation of a gentleman.

" Thank you, but no need. I will meet with him in just a moment." Seifer replied evenly with a hint of class distinction in his tone.

Rinoa nodded in recognition and turned on her heels to leave, however she clumsily ran into the hard body of Irvine showing himself into Seifer's den.

She let out a squeal of girlish surprise before regaining her composure.

" 'Cuse me ma'am." He drawled in his casual way, his hands on her shoulders to balance her before pushing her aside.

She frowned with apprehension. He wasn't given permission to enter, however she knew her master wouldn't fault her for his friend's brashness. Seifer's eyes met with Irvine's in silence disapproval but he gave no sign of showing the man out. Irvine stopped at the doorway seeing he was interrupting a serious matter, but grinned toothily nonetheless.

Sensing she was no longer necessary, Rinoa stalked off in her girlish stamp of petulance, but not without one last glance over her shoulder at her master. It crushed her to see that his eyes were immediately on that burdensome slave of his. And she cursed him.

Seifer's eyes locked with Squall's for a final moment, silently declaring his victory before releasing his hold on Squall's hair. The brunet's head roughly fell forward again. He bit back a groan of pain. He throbbed intensely at every end of his body.

Seifer stepped away from him and veered his body towards Irvine.

The blonde was visibly tense, his shoulders high and stiff and his lips drawn into a thin line.

He was in a mood.

And it amused Irvine to see him so engrossed in his training of the defiant brunet. He grinned warmly and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe in a relaxed manner, his violet eyes catching sight of the ring around Squall's wilting erection.

Irvine raised his brows and chuckled, "Impressive."

" Irvine." Seifer warned.

Irvine heard it loud and clear and put his hands up in mock surrender, " Your toy, I got it. I wasn't gonna touch him."

" The other room. Now." Seifer barked not waiting for his friend's response before moving towards the door.

He stalked out the doorway, stopping only briefly to speak to Nida, " feed him, you may give him some lenience if he eats, I'll be back momentarily."

Nida nodded and picked up the tray in both hands before entering his master's den now laden with the pungent smell of male domination and defeat.

He stopped in front of Squall and knelt once more. He placed the tray between his knees and the splayed knees of the brunet.

He waited for acknowledgment.

None came.

Squall simply stayed in place with his head sagging between his strung up shoulders.

Nida could hear his ragged breaths coming in angry rushes between his teeth.

The obedient slave pushed the tray closer to Squall until the edge of it tapped his thigh.

Slowly, the brunet brought his face up. The boy's hair was sloppily plastered against his forehead and swollen red cheeks. But between those fallen tresses were those red-rimmed eyes, like hard beams of light they shot through with pure malice. It startled Nida down to the very core. He'd never met someone so burdened with rage that a mere look could swallow the transgressor whole.

He shied away from that intensity of the glare, dropping his eyes to the tray of food. His slender fingers curled around a piece of fruit and brought it up to Squall's lips. Squall turned away from the fruit, and again as those fingers followed his lips.

They locked eyes and this time Nida held his gaze. He blinked with child-like innocence at his discovery there within silver eyes. He caught the slight quiver in those hard beams of light. And he pitied the boy.

Something must have shifted in Nida's eyes because silver relented to a soft gray and his lips reluctantly parted.

Nida pushed the fruit between plush lips.

As Squall continued to take pieces into his mouth Nida reached up and unfastened the weights on Squall's chains as his master gave him permission to do. His arms came crashing down to his sides suddenly free of the resistance. Squall stopped and looked around. He wasn't free, only given some slack to move his arms in his bondage. He should have been thankful, but it was all just a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. He shrugged his shoulders, silently working out the kinks in his limbs. He reached down and roughly rolled the rubber ring off his wilting erection with a hiss. He threw the wicked thing across the room then took his penis in hand and rubbed his thumb over the imprint it left.

He ground his teeth, a deadly fury coursing through his veins.

The silver was back, glinting madly in his eyes as he turned towards Nida. Though not all of it was meant for Nida. He just happened to be there.

Nida furrowed his brows at the look and finally voiced the question that seemed inevitable.

" Why do you look upon me with such disgust?"

Squall's upper lips curled in a gesture of revulsion and he bite back bitterly, " Because you do his bidding like a dirty lapdog."

Nida felt the sting from the bitterness of his words.

He gently closed his eyes for a moment before reopening them and answering calmly, " He is my master."

" He degrades you." Squall snapped.

Nida shook his head with a small smile and answered, " He does no such thing."

" He took your freedom!"

His voice rose and provoked Nida.

" He gave me a chance to live." Nida defended, taking the attack on Seifer personally.

" Under his lock and key?" Squall's tone was full of ridicule.

He was ridiculing Nida's logic. He was ridiculing Seifer.

Nida spoke with a tight jaw, " I have nothing else anywhere else. I would have died in my native lands."

Squall scoffed, " At least you could have died with choice."

This struck a chord in Nida. What gave this boy the right to speak like he knew? He knew nothing of Nida's life before Seifer.

His knuckles paled, " Choice of what? Steal or starve? Seifer keeps me safe from those choices. This is why my allegiance lies with him. You should consider yourself lucky to have his esteem."

" Why? I didn't want this!" Squall shouted hoarsely, rattling his chains for emphasis.

It was Nida's turn to scoff. He really did pity the boy.

" You don't even know what the 'this' is that you're fighting against. What else is there for you? Do you have a wife back at home? Children?" He paused, searching Squall's flushed face, " No…you're far too young for that. What is it then? Parents? Did they watch you get taken? Where are they? Why haven't they come for you?"

And Squall fell silent.

Nida expected an outburst. The silence bewildered him. The boy so boisterous just seconds ago couldn't seem to get his tongue out of cheek and that wounded look from his eyes.

And then it dawned on Nida.

" I see… An orphan." Nida said softly.

Squall's face contorted just slightly.

Nida felt pride brimming in his chest. He had the upper hand now. This was his chance to redeem Seifer. Maybe the boy would listen now. He felt he owed it to his master.

Nida spoke softly but smugly, " You are like me. What would you do out there by yourself? Did you even have anything? Or were you just surviving? He's a better man than most. He's given you a purpose. I too had an empty life. Now I live to serve. It's not all a selfish endeavor to hold slaves. Your master lives to serve you as you live to serve him."

Squall seemed to mull over this for a brief moment, but sharply cast an accusing glare at Nida.

" He's done nothing to help me." He sneered.

" You haven't let him." Nida snapped back.

Squall's face twisted and he snarled like a rabid animal, " You're fucked in the head."

Nida saw red.

" You're wrong! You're under the impression that we as peasants have a chance in life!" Nida shouted his eyes shining in earnestness.

" At least I could have had the chance to cultivate something!" Squall spat out, his face pinched in utter repulsion towards Nida.

Nida felt like he'd just been run through a brick wall. His chest hurt and his breathing picked up. And so he did what came to him instinctually, attack back.

" Cultivate? Cultivate what? A family? Search for love and labor and death? That's what you call living?!" Nida barked, his voice cracking under the weight of emotion behind his words.

And Squall did what came instinctually to him.

Attack.

With his hands coiled around Nida's throat.

* * *

Seifer made his way into an adjacent room in the hallway, Irvine in tow.

His friend flopped down in an oversized chair, draping a leg over the armrest. Seifer's back to him.

" I see you put the ring on him. You're getting desperate huh?" Irvine drawled thickly, his eyes glittering.

Seifer peered over his shoulder, " I think devious is a better adjective."

And he smirked brilliantly, the predatory façade dropped.

The pretense of tension vanished.

" You're trying to make him beg." Irvine's lips curved into their familiar smile.

Seifer raised both brows as he responded in mock thoughtfulness, " That's the idea yes."

Irvine knew his friend well enough to know the implications of adorning Squall with the ring. Yet still he posed the question with a slight edge of disbelief.

" You still haven't touched him have you?"

He eyed Seifer curiously.

The blonde began pacing, a telltale sign of nervousness. He was too proud to ever admit it but Irvine had spent more time observing his friend and business partners behavior to not pick up on his little quarks.

The blonde's hand shot to the back of his neck, scratching the tiny hair follicles that always seemed to itch at curious times.

" He hasn't given me permission." He said softly in all seriousness.

" Always the gentleman…" Irvine scoffed with sarcasm.

" Hardly. There's only so long a man can withstand wearing that thing." Seifer shot back with a small chuckle.

" You're skirting corners, he's only going to become more violent if you deny him release."

Seifer abruptly stopped pacing and turned towards Irvine.

" Did you come here to infuriate me?"

Irvine laughed. Terse and to the point, he'd caught the blonde on an uncomfortable topic.

" No, I came with a proposition."

"Speak it."

Irvine popped out of his seat in one swift motion and landed with his feet shoulder's width apart, his arms spread as if waiting for an embrace.

" I want to make merry!" He spoke with the sleaziest loop-sided grin Seifer had ever seen.

Seifer arched an eyebrow, his mouth slightly ajar. He closed his mouth and turned away from the gaping fool, scratching his furrowed brows.

" Leave now before I throw you off the balcony." He commanded before walking in the opposite direction.

His goal was to put as much distance between him and his foolish friend as possible, lest he really throw the man off his balcony, or worse, become involved in whatever he was scheming. He didn't put up much of a chase, as Irvine breeched the distance in a few leaps and clapped his shoulder.

" When's the last time we threw a banquet?" He drawled cheerfully, turning his friend around to face him.

Seifer was furiously rubbing his brow, " You want to host a banquet, in that harem of yours?"

" I want you to host it, being the gentleman that you are." Irvine smiled, poking Seifer in the chest.

" Thanks, but I want no part in this." Seifer replied in mock exuberance his brows knit in disbelief.

He pushed Irvine's fingers aside and attempted to step away from Irvine but the man blocked his escape route with his body.

Suddenly those violet eyes looked on him with seriousness, or something akin to it since the man was never serious. Either way he forced Seifer to a standstill.

" Seifer, think of it as a business endeavor. Invite all the pretentious bastards and display the slaves…"

" We have never had trouble selling our slaves…" He replied flatly, because that was a fact, there was no debate there.

He moved to leave again but Irvine stopped him by pressing a hand against his pectoral.

" Then think of it as a much needed celebration. Think of poor Nida, I'm sure he would enjoy the festivities after what he's been through." Irvine beseeched his drawl growing thicker with each syllable.

" This conversation is over." Seifer spoke stoically grabbing Irvine's wrist and removing it.

Irvine swayed his body and positioned it in front of Seifer's path yet again.

" I'm thinking in the best interest of Tidus, Zell, Raijin, and that hell cat you got over there."

Seifer snorted.

His friend was getting desperate.

He raked a hand through his disheveled blonde locks accepting that this was a lost cause to protest," Because Squall is the most social slave."

Irvine dared a curl of his lip, " No but it might be good for him to see what's out there, perhaps it'll humble him a bit."

He spoke like he was reason itself.

Though Seifer was slightly disgruntled that he was reluctantly sucked into this scheme, he could not help but be amused by his friend's antics.

He rubbed the rough stubble on his chin, briefly considering Irvine's suggestion.

His brows furrowed in discontent, " I'm not sure that he's ready for all those eyes to feast on him."

" You mean him or you?" Irvine was quick to quip.

Seifer shook his head, obviously not comfortable with the idea of Squall being on display for hungry bourgeoisie.

But the notion was interrupted by a gurgling, strangled cry that came from the other room.

Seifer's mind and body became one unit. His thought was his will and his legs carried him to the room mechanically.

He knew what had happened even before he got there.

He knew that Squall had turned his rage upon Nida even before he saw him trying to strangle the life from him with bare hands, even before he saw Nida's blood-shot eyes beseeching him to stop.

Seifer roughly yanked Nida away from Squall's grasp, though Squall let Nida fall from his hands.

Nida staggered back into Seifer's arms with a panicked gasp, clutching his throat and looking at Squall in horror.

The boy's metamorphosis was staggering.

His black, black eyes, pinched red scar, and vicious snarl bore more resemblance to an animal than a human.

He trembled in unrestrained rage.

Nida had never been more thankful for the metal chains that kept him bound.

Those unwavering black eyes turned to Seifer, who was crouched down next to Nida.

The moment their eyes met everything became heightened.

Nida could not function on the plane where the two of them ascended.

He could not fathom what elapsed between them, nor did he want to.

He felt his master's grip on his upper arm tighten unconsciously.

He could not see his master's face but when he spoke, he shuddered to imagine what it might have looked like.

" You will be punished for this…" Seifer growled sharp and dangerously low.

His only response was those black eyes tightening to pinpoints.

A heartbeat later Rinoa came fumbling through the door.

" Master! Are you all right! I heard an awful cry!" She panted breathless from her obvious sprint from wherever she was to here, hand on her heart.

Seifer slowly stood, his eyes frozen on Squall.

No one dared to breath until the moment he broke contact to look at Irvine.

His friend hung back, observing with a contemplative look.

An unspoken agreement transpired between the two of them.

" Rinoa, alert the servants and cooks. There will be a banquet tomorrow evening. We will prepare a feast." Seifer spoke with his usual air of dignity, yet it was slightly strained.

Everyone in the room knew he was fighting for control over himself.

Hyne knew what the man was capable of when provoked.

Irvine dared to crack a small half smile and tipped his hat in acknowledgement of Seifer.

And now he would return the favor.

" Miss Heartily would you care to escort me out." Irvine drawled and smiled seductively as he grabbed Rinoa by the elbow and led the two of them out of the room none too gently.

She stuttered in agreement, looking once more at her master.

But as usual his eyes were on Squall.

* * *

She walked along the cobblestone road of the marketplace in abject silence.

The rest of the servants had been thrilled to hear that the Almasy house would once again be the center of festivity.

It meant they all could get drunk by the end of the night to no consequence.

But she would be taking no pleasure in the festivities like the others would.

Not when she would be objected to watching her respectable master fawn over an undeserving boy slave.

The thought of it made her tighten her fingers around the wicker basket she was holding.

She prayed that there be a way to dispose of the boy.

He was the problem.

He was her problem.

And her master's, though he failed to see it that way.

She stopped in front of the butcher's stand. The pungent smell of raw meat making her nose crinkle.

" What can I getcha ma'am?" The butcher asked in a thick accent.

He leaned his palms against the table upon which a variety of cuts were displayed. He was chewing on something that made his cheek bulge out.

" Could you deliver ten pounds of chicken and ten of beef to the Almasy residence by tonight?" Rinoa asked sweetly, though distant.

The butcher spat out a wad of whatever he'd been chewing on behind the stand. Rinoa cringed with disgust.

He wiped his mouth and chuckled, " Young Almasy is having a feast now is he?"

" He is, yes." She answered tersely, put off by his grotesque behavior.

" Yea I can do that for ya. It'll be 500 gil." He held out his large hand stained with hyne knew what!

Rinoa dug into her wicker basket, pulled out the 500 gil, and cautiously placed it into his hand, trying not to touch him.

He smiled and tipped his head slightly, " pleasure doing business with ya ma'am."

She turned on her feet and scurried away relieved to be done with that part of the shopping.

She was so caught up mulling over the unpleasantness of the butcher that she didn't notice a man step out from the shadows of an alley.

" Well, what have we here." A deep voice behind her chuckled darkly.

She froze, the hairs on the back of her neck standing. The voice was so menacing even in laughter. Her heart began racing, but she lent herself courage from the fact that it was still broad daylight and she was still in the midst of a busy market.

She bravely turned on her heels.

A tall figure cloaked in black garb loomed over her.

He was strikingly handsome, but strikingly unsettling all at once.

She was immobilized under his gaze.

His black eyes seemed to penetrate into her soul and laugh at everything within her.

" I overheard that Sir Almasy is having a feast. That would make you one of his servants correct?" The ominous voice asked.

" Yes." She managed to choke out.

He flashed a brilliant white smile at her.

Her stomach curled.

She dropped her eyes.

" Your master has something that belongs to me. Something I would like back." The man spoke huskily.

Rinoa wrung her hands around the handle of the wicker basket anxiously. Thinking of a quick way to end this conversation and leave safely.

" My master's business is no business of mine." She answered hurriedly with half a mind to turn and run away right then.

However, he spoke again, " A slave boy, a little hell hound to be sure."

She snapped her neck up at him rapidly enough to cause whiplash.

He grinned deviously, " You know the one."

The image of a boy with unruly chocolate locks was vividly alive in her mind, taunting her.

She unconsciously wrung her hands around the handle of her basket even harder.

Her heart fluttered with the notion that this man was here to take Squall out of her life and her masters!

" Then you understand why speaking to your master would be of no avail, being that he's quite taken with this slave boy." He continued.

She was reminded then of how hopeless an endeavor it was. Seifer would never agree to separate from that boy.

She hung her head in defeat.

" I can do nothing to sway his mind on the matter." She uttered remorsefully.

" I'm not asking you to." The man replied quickly, confidently.

She brought her eyes back up to the man. She arched a thin brow curiously. She didn't understand the intentions of this man before her. Granted she was under no pretense that they were pure intentions, but that was of no concern to her.

This man was an answer from Hyne above to her prayers.

She saw the opportunity for what it was, and she seized it.

" What is it you're asking of me?" She questioned sincerely.

That wicked smile curled the man's lips.

" I see I have your attention now. Before we go any further let us not forget our manners. I am the Count of Monte Cristo. And I am so very pleased to meet your acquaintance."

* * *

TBC…

Next we have punishments, scandal, and betrayal!

So REVIEW, and tell me what you thought.


	10. The Calm before the Storm

Dedication: To Wolkje, we finally allied! And to my faithful reviewers; General Wyvern, slivershell, Ruid, I-Love-You-Kitty-Sou-Chan, OvenBased, sheartrigger, Tripliss, Chemotaxis, Akano, Sprocket, all of whom have been waiting patiently for some yaoi action! You guys are the reason I keep going! I love you all so much for your support, never think I don't notice all your signed reviews with fondness!

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Master of Slaves

Chapter 10: The Calm before the Storm

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He fought valiantly.

Like a lion.

Yet there he was, the ferocious lion, looking more like a nymph with spread knees that kissed the plank beneath him.

Seifer smirked lecherously, circling Squall like a stalking predator, admiring every inch of his handiwork.

It hadn't been easy, not in the least.

He had proof he mused as his tongue swept over his bloody lip.

But Seifer was an expert in the art of subduing.

The fiery rage that consumed him moments ago had smoldered into a thick lust.

It darkened his emerald eyes. The eyes that didn't dare blink, lest they miss an inch of exposed flesh.

The brunet was tied taut with thick ropes; expertly keeping his limbs neatly arranged where Seifer wanted them.

He had been striped of his robe and subdued onto all fours.

A metal bar kept his knees spread wide, leather cuffs linking onto the underside of each knee. His wrists were strapped into leather cuffs, an extension of the table; a table that made him feel more like an experiment than a prisoner.

Squall pressed his sweaty palms hard against the table, as if the straps on his wrists would give way if he tried hard enough. His arms trembled from the exertion. His head hung heavy between his tense shoulder blades, much like his manhood did between tense thighs.

Seifer's eyes greedily feasted upon the brunet's naked body, every inch of exposed flesh making his cock twitch and his fingers itch.

He flexed his gloved fingers, the leather creaking with the movement.

" All that show of defiance and what did it earn you?" Seifer mocked in a husky voice.

He took a step closer to the brunette, his chest level with the boy's upturned bottom. His eyes alight as they fell onto his rosy entrance.

" It's very curious, your actions." Seifer carried on, his voice deepened from the desire, but exhuming a confidence that left no question of who had the upper hand.

This was his domain.

This was exactly where he wanted the brunet.

At his mercy.

There was nothing Squall could do to challenge Seifer's authority.

Noting at all…

His gloved fingers gingerly touched Squall's silky thigh. The boy's muscles visibly tightened under the touch.

Seifer smiled and spoke, " You knew I would punish you, yet you still did it."

His eyes followed his fingers as he slowly traced the indentation of the boy's tightened muscle.

Seifer dragged them all the way to the curve of his hip and paused, " I think you really are a glutton for punishment." He whispered hoarsely placing his open palm onto the boy's smooth bottom.

Squall quivered.

In what?

Rage?

Fear?

Excitement?

Seifer chuckled quietly in silent assurance that whatever violent emotion shook the brunet would soon be broken by lust.

He removed his hand and turned away from the sultry sight, striding toward his shelf of instruments.

He curled his leather-encased fingers around a thick wooden paddle and he shot a wicked smile over his shoulder, " However, I know I'm going to enjoy this infinitely more than you."

He would have the brunet begging by the end.

Squall shuddered as he felt Seifer's heat settle behind him once again. His silver eyes darted frantically across the room. It had been a labor to hide his apprehension from Seifer, however, with the man standing behind him, he couldn't steady his jagged breaths.

" You've had this coming for a while now." That strong voice spoke with a promise of what was to come.

Squall screwed his eyes shut and braced himself mentally for the oncoming pain.

And then it came.

In the form of a paddle smacking his bare ass.

Squall jerked forward against his restraints and couldn't help the gruff grunt that forcefully pushed past his lips.

Before he could form a coherent thought the paddle was brought across his bare cheek once again.

He ground his teeth against the hot stinging pain.

It came down again, harder, on the other cheek.

Something between a feral growl and a gasp tore from his throat.

And again, he felt the heavy wood beat against his soft buttocks.

He curled his fingers against the wooden plank beneath him.

Seifer aimed again for the right cheek.

He tried to concentrate on sound of the paddle cracking against his skin to lessen the pain.

But once it cracked his left cheek, he panicked.

He huffed violently, his face contorted in angry agony.

His eyes began to water despite himself.

It hurt, it fucking hurt.

He'd taken a lot of beatings growing up, but never this.

His calluses extended everywhere except where Seifer mercilessly targeted.

He didn't want to show his pain, but it came through with every huff and grunt.

Beyond the pain he was utterly incensed by this humiliation.

He was humiliated to be exposed like a whore.

He was humiliated to be subjected to this punishment.

He was humiliated to be at Seifer's mercy.

Seifer's eyes were trained on Squall's every reaction. Every flinch, every, tremble, every sound, Seifer caught and absorbed with sick satisfaction. Those glowing green eyes swept across Squall's flushed body.

After a few more spanks for good measure he paused and held the paddle flush against the boy's abused butt. It was his way of letting Squall know that punishment was still a threat.

" Apologize like a good boy and I'll stop." Seifer demanded gruffly.

Squall grit his teeth. It hurt like hell, but he'd rather endure it over succumbing to the blonde's wishes.

" Over my dead body." He spat out venomously through clenched teeth.

Seifer arched a brow smugly, " over your sore ass you mean." And with that he smacked the paddle on both of Squall's cheeks, mindful of his balls.

It echoed through the room as did Squall's fierce yelp.

Just when Squall thought that Seifer had settled into a rhythm he could endure, Seifer sped up his pace.

The blonde bit the bloody bump on his lip as he set a furious pace of spanking his disobedient slave.

Squall shrieked pathetically for the first round. His own noises along with the utter degradation making his stomach curl in disgust with himself and with Seifer.

He fought his instinct with tooth and nail to withhold his screams. He bit his lip to keep his mouth shut, but the urge to cry out only built. A drop of blood splattered onto the wooden plank from his lip. And one by one they continued to splatter silently with every second Squall struggled.

He dug his nails into the wood beneath his palms.

His body rocked and jerked in a rapid, violent pace, rocking with each spank.

He felt his limp cock slap his stomach and his balls sway in time with Seifer's smacking.

His arms trembled with the effort of trying to keep him up.

This kept up for some time. He prayed to Hyne and any deity that would lend an ear that Seifer grow tired, and soon, because his will was faltering by the second.

There was only so much he could take.

He huffed and groaned.

His toes curled and his buttocks clenched.

A small whimper escaped him and Seifer increased his vigor.

The sound set the blonde off.

He was adamant on getting Squall to scream.

Squall's eyes widened impossibly large in shock. He couldn't fathom where Seifer found the strength to continue. The devastated brunet cried out reluctantly.

His cheeks were searing hot.

He screwed his eyes shut to the tears that began to fall.

His arms collapsed under his weight.

He couldn't break down, he couldn't, not so soon!

He snarled angrily, picking his head up slightly and staring straight ahead through sweat-plastered bangs.

" Say it Squall." Seifer's voice resounded over the sound of wood slapping skin harshly.

Seifer sensed Squall's faltering willpower.

This enraged the brunet even more.

He opened his mouth and amidst his own cries he mustered out a strained, " fuck you."

Seifer felt his adrenaline surge within his veins and he mercilessly let out a slew of spanks that made his own shoulders protest.

Squall's head snapped up and he screamed, his reluctant to show his pain no longer a thought in his mind.

He rocked with the force of Seifer's punishment.

This was unfathomable!

He shed hot angry tears, burying his head between his shoulders.

His mouth went slack and the groans of protest and pain left unabatedly.

He screamed like a wanton whore.

It needed to stop!

He couldn't stand it any longer!

" I-I'm sorry!" Squall screamed, his neck muscles bulging with the effort.

As soon as the words left his mouth the abuse stopped and Squall collapsed as much as his restraints would allow him into a shivering, sniveling mess upon the table.

Seifer's hard eyes feasted upon the sweat beads that gathered between his shoulder blades. Squall's skin glistened with the light sheen of sweat clinging to his body. Seifer wiped a bead of sweat from his own brow. His breathing slightly labored, but nothing compared to Squall's huffing and heaving on the table. He shrugged his coat off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He raked a hand through his disheveled golden locks and placed the paddle back on to the shelf, grabbing a vile of something on his way back to Squall.

He couldn't help it when his cock jumped at the sight of the tethered boy on the table. His chest resting against the table and his bottom propped high in the air. His skin was flushed a brilliant sanguine. His buttocks were ruddy and swollen. Seifer couldn't resist resting his gloved palm against a swollen cheek.

Squall immediately flinched and mouthed an incoherent protest; he was still reeling.

Seifer shushed him and gently kneaded the engorged flesh, " Shh, I told you, if you listen to me I will show you mercy."

Seifer wasn't entirely without sympathy for the boy. But he had to be taught a lesson. He had held back until the last volley of spanks to get Squall to submit.

This was Seifer's expertise – discipline. He knew how much pressure he could apply without causing serious bodily harm onto his slaves. All of his punishments were temporary. He would never inflict serious harm onto one of his slaves, especially not the beauty writhing on the table before him.

He was actually proud of the boy for submitting. He peeled his gloves off his fingers. With his teeth he pulled the cork out of the vile he had taken from the shelf and poured a generous amount into his palm.

He smeared the clear liquid onto Squall's sensitive cheeks. Squall sucked in air harshly and jerked away from his hand instinctually.

A muffled, yet strong, " don't touch me", came from Squall.

The boy was resilient as hell. He had to give credit where credit was due.

" Hush. This will help with the sting, unless you fancy a welted bottom." Seifer chuckled fondly as he continued his ministrations.

Skilled fingers gently massaged the salve into plump flesh. The glow in his eyes softened and a small smile curled his lips.

The salve took effect immediately. Squall shivered from the cool tingling sensation against his hot skin. He laid completely still as Seifer kneaded his tender flesh, silently disgusted with himself for appreciating Seifer cool touch against his swollen skin. His head still buried in his arms he wanted to laugh bitterly. And here he thought that Seifer would let his bottom bruise and blister. He was still reeling with rage internally, but he was thankful that the blonde was more brain than beast. The punishment was really only about the humiliation, not the pain. The pain was only the mean used to get him to submit.

Realizing this, Squall's shoulders shook with shame as the pain gradually ebbed away to a dull throb.

He abruptly shrugged away from Seifer's hands, dismissing the faded pain that moments ago compelled him to allow this.

The blonde's hands hovering over Squall and he chuckled amusedly, " hasn't anyone ever taught you not to bite the hand that feeds?"

Squall grunted in response and pushed himself up all fours. His left arm buckled slightly under the sudden weight. Apparently his body hadn't caught up to his mind. Embarrassed he started tugging against his wrist cuffs in a display of defiance.

Seifer watched with his tongue in cheek, delighted that Squall still had spirit in him yet, because he was far from done with the boy…

" Untie me." Squall huffed, wringing his wrists in his leather cuffs.

" You are in no position to demand anything of me." Seifer replied lightheartedly.

Squall balled his fists and slammed them against the table," Fucking untie me!"

Seifer stood behind him in still contemplation.

" Under one condition."

Squall bowed his head, admittedly ashamed that he was about to listen to the man's terms. He dreaded what they would be…

He dreaded the deep voice that followed.

" You ask me… nicely." Seifer emphasized the last word with a touch of venom that meant business.

Squall swallowed thickly. He swirled his tongue around his dry mouth. It already tasted bitter with the notion of conceding to the blonde.

" Untie me…please." He uttered caustically, the 'please' almost inaudible.

Behind him Seifer quirked a smug half smirk.

He was going to push it.

" Address me as master."

" Fuck you." Squall spat back and whipped his neck to the side.

He flinched when a hot hand connected with his tender buttocks in a resounding slap.

" These are the conditions, take it or leave it." Seifer stated, his hand hovering inches from the boy's butt.

Squall ground his teeth and blanched his fists. He wasn't about to play into Seifer's game. There was only so much of his pride he was willing to swallow in one night.

The air between them was ridden with a tight tension, one playful, and one fierce.

" Well…I'm waiting." Seifer spoke calmly after a silent moment elapsed.

" You'll be waiting a long time then!"

Seifer spanked him, playfully. It didn't have the force behind it that demanded compliance like the paddle did. And though he was thankful for that, it made his heart pulsate with quickly escalading anger.

He didn't like being toyed with, like some four-legged pet.

He was human Hyne-damned!

Another spank to his bottom ripped him from his internal struggle.

" You're only making this harder on yourself Squall." Seifer smirked, thoroughly enjoying Squall's defiance for once.

" Fuck you." Squall bit out.

This earned him another spank to his throbbing bottom. His initial flinch turned into a shiver as Seifer's palm gently caressed the imprint left on his cheek.

The combination of the tingling salve and the feather light touches evoked sensations that made him swallow thickly.

" I can do this all night." Seifer chuckled.

Squall grit his teeth in agitation but stood strong. He would be damned if he'd succumb to this humiliation twice!

His strategy was to endure in silent resignation the blonde's antics until he grew tired. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into the ground and disappear. He was still reeling with mortification from his previous submission. Since shouting at the blonde only encouraged him, maybe if he ignored him he'd grow tired of playing and leave him alone.

However, he underestimated the extent of the blonde's patience when it came to his favorite pastime.

Seifer continued to deliver light spanks to the boy's plumb bottom. Reveling in the way the boy's ruddy cheeks would shake and clench after each spank. Green eyes were glued hotly on the boy's backside. He was consumed by the feel of heated skin, soft as silk, under his palm. His eyes fluttered closed. The heat that had been pooling in his groin spiked and suddenly his pants were utterly restrictive.

He wanted nothing more than to bury himself completely between the meaty globes of flesh.

He licked his dry lips and slapped the boy's buttocks again.

But this was punishment…

A smirk that would make the devil uneasy curled Seifer's lips as he reopened his eyes.

He sensuously kneaded Squall's flesh, replacing the spankings altogether for the more enjoyable act.

And by the subtle arch of Squall's back…so did he.

" Stop." The brunet hissed through clenched teeth, betrayed by his bodily reaction.

Seifer licked his lips, aroused by the brunet's reaction and ran his hands up and down the gentle curved slope of Squall's hips.

" Not a chance little one." Seifer chuckled back in a voice taut with lust.

His hands delved deeper in their exploration of the boy's body, they spread those shapely cheeks, exposing a rosy puckering entrance, begging to be kissed.

This earned a growl from Squall.

Squall willed every spiteful thought out in order to steel himself from Seifer's ministrations. He cursed his body for enjoying the feel of hot hands on his bottom. His stomach churned but the rest of his body couldn't seem to understand his mind's opposition.

As a man he accepted that he was a slave to his own body, but he refused to let his body become slave to someone else's hands.

Especially those hot, demanding, dexterous hands massaging…

He bit his already split lip against the pleasure that suddenly dropped down to his member. He clenched his jaw tightly. This was not happening…

He opened his mouth to protest once again however his protest became a stuttering groan as he felt a hot tongue slowly lick his entrance.

Seifer smiled at the boy's reaction whilst licking that tempting hole.

" S-st…ugh…" Squall groaned again, the protest dying on his lips as Seifer's tongue probed his tight hole.

Squall's cock came alive under Seifer's hot tongue.

Utterly mortified by the blonde's audacious move Squall was slow to react like he should have.

" Stop!" The brunet forced out hoarsely his heart thudding wildly against his ribcage.

With wide eyes he felt that invasive tongue lick his entrance again and the residual saliva that chilled him once it met with the air.

Seifer's tongue lapped at the most intimate part of his body; a part reserved for lovers, and yet here this man was, basking in the embarrassment that came from his utter vulnerability.

Squall trembled with deep shame, not because of this abasement, but because he wanted it to continue.

Overtaken by arousal his logic was clouded.

He wanted Seifer to thrust his tongue inside of him. He wanted those hot dexterous hands touching him, inside of him…

Seifer could smell Squall's heady arousal. It made him dizzy to know the boy beneath him wanted this, wanted him. It made his cock swell as well as his ego.

But it wasn't without restraint that the brunet lusted. Seifer could tell by the way the boy's body tensed and the way he shivered was not just with lust, but with disgrace.

" This is a little taste of what good boys receive." Seifer whispered against Squall's puckering entrance, delivering one last long lick to it.

Squall emitted an animalistic protest of pained pleasure, caught between wanting more and wanting to gut the blonde.

Seifer abruptly pulled away from Squall. Before the dazed boy could conjure up a slew of curses towards the blonde he came back and rough hands were on his erect penis.

He flinched and writhed under those hands that expertly slid that restrictive black ring around his penis again.

More animalistic noises of dissent tore from Squall's throat.

" You will wear this and suffer the banquet like this to complete your punishment." Seifer spoke sternly.

Squall thrashed as much as humanly possible against the bonds that held him. Still dazed, but reeling with anger so fierce his tongue couldn't form words.

Seifer patted him lightly on the bottom before retrieving his fallen coat and exiting the room to help with the banquet preparations.

A crazed growl surged past Squall's lips.

He was livid.

How could the man just leave him here like this!

It was cruel, it was torture… it reminded Squall that this was punishment.

His mind was reeling so quickly his vision became blurry.

He'd been exploited, exposed, and degraded!

Yet this ended with him becoming overwhelmingly aroused.

The thought alone made him want to vomit, but then the knowledge that the blonde induced his arousal to punish him with it sent him over the edge.

He was confounded beyond comprehension of how the blonde affected him so strongly and why he allowed it.

He couldn't deny that he had wanted it, wanted it badly.

He was only human.

He hung his head in defeat. His knuckled blanched against his restraints.

He was finally alone. Yet for once, he didn't want to be. And that disturbed him.

He didn't want to go where his mind would take him. He didn't want to think. It was easier to live with in this situation when he was just reacting instead of thinking. He wanted that bold man back to make him angry, disgusted, intrigued, anything! Because this solitude shook him to the core.

He was exhausted, the heavy burden of self-loathing and anger like a milestone around his neck. It would drown him soon…

In the end his mind won. He bitterly sank into deep introspection, a reminder throbbing between his legs of the dreaded banquet yet to come…

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TBC…

A/N: I was going to include the banquet in this chapter but I figured this was long enough to stand on its own and that you guys deserved a late Christmas present!

If you liked the punishment let me know, REVIEW, yep, press that little button and gimme that great feedback to write more!


	11. Satyricon

A/N: The story of Encolpius and his lover Giton is loosely derived from Fellini's Satryicon and Petronius's Satyricon, this chapter homage to both. I absolutely adore the dynamic between the two!

I love my reviewers!

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Master Of Slaves

By: Baby Chiba

Chapter 11: Satyricon

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He refused to hang his head, defiantly meeting the beady eyes of hungry aristocrat as they passed him. The shame of revealing his face was almost more painful than admitting weakness.

This was a travesty.

The myriads of nude bodies in tow with noblemen and women alike pressed against one another blended like a sea of flesh.

The 'banquet' was merely an excuse for the aristocrats to flaunt their expensive 'pets' amongst one another.

And he was a human garnish.

Placed on a pillar of throne-like height Squall knelt, which put him eye level with the masses of nobility swaying to the song of wine. His arms were pulled taut behind him, forcing a slight arch in his back, which served both to expose his painful arousal and make a breathing statue of him.

He ground his teeth as the sadist blonde swayed into his periphery once again. Seifer had not left his side all night. Those keen peridot eyes vigilantly watching him, looking like he'd been bewitched. He could feel the heat from the other man and it made it impossible to forget the throbbing in his tender bottom and the trapped blood that stiffened his treacherous organ.

Being a performer in this theatre of decadence made his eyes dart fretfully from face to face. He felt sick with dread at being exposed. His throat constricted tight with anxiety.

There were too many eyes; there were too many faces.

From beside him a warm hand twined in his hair and massaged down his neck, cooing reassurances into his ear.

He shuddered against the hand as he leaned into it, loathing how the man could read him so easily.

He wanted to hate the walking contradiction of a man. The man who stripped him of his dignity and the same man who gave him the plushiest pillow to kneel on.

" My hands are the only hands allowed to touch you." Seifer whispered hotly against his ear, his hands massaging the tense muscles of Squall's neck.

Squall felt his body slacken slightly under those skilled hands.

And he frowned.

He heard Seifer chuckle in response.

Squall felt begrudgingly ambivalent towards Seifer tonight. He was reluctant to admit that he was grateful of the blonde's ever-persistent presence, and grateful that the blonde seemed as reluctant to leave his side.

One fool was better than a hundred.

Looking over to Nida serving as another embellishment surrounded by eager noblemen made him wonder why Seifer allowed them to touch Nida, but not him.

The man was possessive of those that he claimed to be his. He didn't understand the exception. He didn't want to dwell on it either though, lest he be struck down for questioning his good fortune and Seifer allow those grubby hands to molest him. He hated how dependant he was on the blonde tonight.

Bastard…

There was yet another slave that served to decorate the barren pillar, a boy of sandy hair and piercing blue eyes that Irvine had brought along. He vaguely recalled the name 'Tidus' mentioned in a rushed conversation between the two men. Squall felt no pity for the boy statue, not with the way he writhed and moaned against his bonds and begged those hands to touch him and taste him.

Tidus was a heedless hedonic, Eros incarnate.

The way he surrendered in wanton abandon made Squall nauseous.

He couldn't fathom all of those prying, poking, prodding fingers shamelessly upon him.

Seifer followed his line of vision, taking a moment to enjoy the self-indulgent display before chuckling darkly, " he's quite a sight isn't he? My latest little prodigy. I barely had to break a sweat in training him. He was so receptive."

Squall furrowed his brows and wondered when Seifer had trained the blonde boy. He hadn't seen any slaves aside from Nida in the past weeks he'd been there. He pondered over the intended meaning of 'barely break a sweat' before forcefully rejecting the thought. It wasn't something he should be concerned with. He felt ridiculous for letting his mind even conceive the irritating blonde's words in the first place!

Those hot hands moved from his neck to his sore shoulders. Seifer's thumbs prodded against pressure points and knots in the juncture between his shoulders and neck. Squall tried to shrug Seifer's hands off him, deciding he'd felt enough of those groping hands.

Seifer laughed lightly and leaned into Squall so that his face was pressed against Squall's ear.

" You are so spoiled."

At the comment he deemed highly ludicrous Squall turned slightly and glared but it did little to discourage the sharp smirk on Seifer's face.

" How many masters do you see tonight pleasing their slaves?" Seifer asked motioning to his guests with a sweep of his arm.

Scowling Squall's eyes landed on the men teasing Tidus. But he could hardly consider what those men were doing 'pleasing'. Scanning the sea of people his eyes skipped over various slaves performing for their masters, whether bowing at their master's feet, kissing their hands, or filling up their goblets, all were done for the master and the master alone.

Feeling his point proven Seifer added with a small grin, "There is a difference between a touch meant to be self-gratifying, and a touch aimed to gratify selflessly."

Squall's frown hardened. The idea of buying another human being was for self-gratification. Squall didn't understand where the notion of purchasing a human to selflessly please came from. It was completely illogical. Yet it was exactly what Seifer was hinting at. His pensive brooding distracted him from realizing Seifer had slipped his hands back over his shoulders gently, but then he spoke, and his touch became that much hotter.

" Those selfless touches tend to be fleetingly rare among the aristocrat. Consider this."

And on that note he let his hands fall off Squall's body, leaving Squall to angrily internalize what his words were saying…and what they weren't.

Increasingly perturbed Squall decided he didn't like a cryptic Seifer. He preferred it when the man was blunt and direct, despite the vulgarity.

The multitude of guests that approached the lord of the manor to thank him for his hospitality and shower him with false flattery quieted Seifer's caresses and gave Squall space to breathe. Then as soon as the company would part Seifer would lean in and divulge Squall on who said company was.

Squall didn't understand why Seifer indulged in the quiet gossiping with him, but he found that he didn't mind. It was distracting from his predicament and mind numbing in its triviality. He felt pathetic for indulging in petty escapism, however, gazing at the waves of ravenous, greedy aristocrat, he considered his options.

He was slow to warm up to it, but he gradually began to anticipate each interaction between Seifer and his acquaintances because Seifer had a rather colorful way of describing his guests.

The way Seifer secretly defamed the nobility and emasculated their validity struck Squall as odd and hypocritical, seeing as Seifer was among their ranks. However being the egoist he was, the blonde probably assumed himself beyond their shallow sphere of influence.

His shifting eyes were caught by an older man and young boy that seemed oddly removed from the rest of the nobles, and blissful uncaring on their circumstances.

The vigilant blonde caught Squall's curious look.

" That man on the couch is Encolpius and the scantily clad boy on his lap is his lover Giton." Seifer spoke softly so that only Squall could hear.

Squall's eyes softened at the sight of a young boy, much younger than himself sitting casually on a man's lap. The boy was smiling brilliantly his arms wrung loosely around his lovers' neck. The boy, Giton, had an innocently coquettish energy about him. With the way Encolpius's eyes glazed at Giton's smile there was no denying he was utterly enamored with the boy in his arms. It was the first real display of true passion he'd seen from any of the wealthy all night. But when Giton slowly slid between the man's thighs and knelt at the man's feet like a slave, Squall eyes turned stormy again.

" Why does he kneel before his lover?" He asked, his voice soft and sounding strangely shy in its lack of usual ferocity.

Stunned speechless at the first words uttered from the sulking man all night Seifer grinned like a fool before chuckling, " Because that is how obedient slaves act."

The frown that pulled at Squall's lips voiced all his confusion over the situation. How could a slave be a lover? How could a man who purchased a human being as if it were livestock also be the same man that held that human with such delicacy that it mirrored worship? Perhaps Giton's giddiness was all a ruse for the rest of the nobility to envy. But looking again at the doting Encolpius, Squall knew that wasn't the case. His behavior was unusual for a master. It seemed that Giton has his master tamed and responsive to his every gesture and touch, not the contrary. Squall felt satisfied with that thought. It made him feel strangely liberated to see a slave turning the tables.

" You see the man lingering in the shadows over there. He's been discreetly watching those two all night. He is Encolpius's confidant, Ascyltus, well former confidant anyhow." Seifer continued with an edge of seriousness creeping into his voice.

It piqued Squall's interest. The couple had already intrigued him and so he found himself waiting for Seifer's next words.

A quick glance at the feel of eyes on his face startled Seifer from his thoughts. A small smile graced his lips when he realized he'd roused his slave's curiosity.

" The two were very close until one night he vindictively wooed Giton into his bed, despite the love he knew his friend held for the slave boy. Heartbroken from the betrayal at both ends Encolpius succumbed to mental instability to the point that he was forced into an asylum. It was only after he had gotten word that Ascyltus had sold Giton to a traveling acting troupe that his mental stability returned. He scavenged the land high and low until he found his little lover and bought him back… for quite a handsome sum."

Squall's face pinched as he attempted to unravel the story and understand the motives of all parties.

" Why…?" He found himself voicing despite his better sense.

Seifer laughed lightly and replied with coy roguishness, " Why what? Why did he buy him back? Why did he accept him after his betrayal?" He paused, gauging his slave's reaction, which amounted to a slight twitch of his eye, and then continued with surprising earnestness, " Well, I suppose logic doesn't really hold up against the blinding yet unstoppable force of love."

Squall blinked and veered his neck to stare at Seifer incredulously.

However Seifer did not return the look as his eyes were drawn toward the magnetic couple on the couch and his thoughts residing on a much graver plane than Squall had expected.

" Knowing Encolpius he'd prefer to take the scars with an all consuming love than the bitterness of solitude for the rest of his days." His face void of any emotion Seifer spoke with a slight dismissive tone to his voice, hiding what he may have truly been thinking.

Arms folded lightly across his muscular chest Seifer added cynically, " The fool Ascyltus now only watches, taunted by the happiness he never had."

There was something left unspoken by the blonde, but Squall chose to ignore it and settled his eyes on Giton and Encolpius as they pressed against each other in a passionate kiss.

Grudgingly Squall realized that perhaps he was wrong in his assumptions about master and slave relationships.

Not all of course… the majority were tainted and debauched.

He narrowed his eyes at the wanton display of Tidus and Nida. By now Seifer's violet-eyed companion started capitalizing on the noble's insatiable desire for the blonde boy. He bodily blocked hands and tongues from Tidus while pointing to individual nobles as they called out prices and audaciously started waving money in the air. Irvine's eyes turned green. Disgusted Squall tore his eyes away.

He hadn't given the man much thought since being perpetually preoccupied with the blonde at his side, however, now looking at him, Squall found himself seething. He held utter contempt for the man. That man was the force that tore Squall from his native land and cast him into this life as a slave. Even though he meant no harm, even though he was ignorant to his transgressions, and even though he might have been a decent man, Squall couldn't help but hate him. He hated what Irvine represented: a faction of men who hunted humans and stole their lives from them, all for the value of a gil. It was because of this that his vision of the man would forever be tainted. Next to Irvine, Seifer seemed saintly. At least the exasperating blonde cared for his slaves. Seifer's only major transgression was disrespecting his humanity. Seifer didn't care for the money; he had enough. He did it because it fed his ego. He lived for the rush of power that filtered his blood like a high at dominating another. Somehow to Squall the matter of pride was more acceptable than the matter of greed.

To his dismay he noticed the violet-eyed man frolic towards them. If his unmanly gait didn't indicate his giddiness, then the blinding white smile should have.

Licking his lips and clapping the hand that wasn't holding a goblet of wine on Seifer's shoulder Irvine laughed breathlessly, "You won't believe the numbers they are throwing out for Tidus. That trick you taught him is the reason I'm going into early retirement."

Seifer gave a small half smile back in return meeting eyes with Irvine.

" You're too greedy for that."

" And you're Hyne-sent, come with me, you have a party to enjoy." Irvine replied without missing a beat.

Seifer blinked, taking a moment to search Irvine's face before replying monotonously; "I'm enjoying it fine from here."

Squall was taken aback by how standoffish the blonde was being towards his treasured companion and confidant, and apparently Irvine was too.

Irvine's brows arched and his smile faltered, " You've never been one to favor living vicariously, you can't expect me to believe you're starting to now."

" I've been dabbling here and there with my guests." Seifer spoke nonchalantly.

Squall knew he was lying, but Irvine called it.

" Bullshit, you've been loitering around this one all night. As if you're afraid he's going to vanish if you step an inch away from him." Irvine drawled thickly, his brows furrowed in earnest.

He sounded slightly insulted by the outright lie.

Seifer glanced shyly at Squall, seemingly embarrassed at having him hear the obvious. It was almost comical. Who did he think he was trying to fool?

Irvine snorted amusedly looking to the ceiling as if summoning the support of Hyne, " Seifer…he isn't going anywhere for Hyne's sake! It's all a matter of physics my friend!"

Seifer glared.

" However, you need to go and entertain your guests like a proper host." Irvine drawled, emphasizing his point by poking an accusing finger into the blonde's chest.

Seifer paused before a coy smile crossed his features, "But Irvine you're doing such a lovely job for me."

" Listen," Irvine began, the wine making his gestures very animate," there's only so many horny wives I can dissuade from cuckolding their husbands until temptation persuades my soul."

Seifer snorted, " Dissuading isn't remotely close to what I've been watching you do."

With a loopy grin Irvine leaned closer to Seifer and drawled in mock sweetness, " I would hate to defame your name with my liaisons…"

Seifer rolled his eyes, " I am in no way associated with those."

" But you are associated with me." Irvine replied immediately gesturing to himself and than drunkenly staggering back and catching himself with a loop-sided grin on his face.

Seifer's face pinched half in amusement and half in disbelief, " Is this bribery I'm hearing?" He laughed incredulously.

" Bribery is above what I'm promising." Irvine muttered, puncturing his statement with a sip to his wine.

Squall watched as Seifer's face went through the motions of digesting his friend's threat, and gauging the severity, to reserved amusement.

" I should cut your cock off." He said with finality.

" Don't pretend you're above yours." Irvine snapped back smiling.

" The false pretence game is your domain." Seifer retorted sardonically, a smirk curling his lips.

Irvine laughed and clapped his hand on Seifer's shoulder again, " Touché. But right now my intentions are pure in luring you away from this temptation over here before he leads you down the path of deviation."

He jabbed his thumb in Squall's direction. Squall's brows furrowed at being referred to in such a lewd manner and at the bizarre chain of conversation.

" You are the path of deviation." Seifer said seriously.

" So come, take my hand and let's romp off the beaten path." Irvine extended his hand and skipped around in a circle, wine spilling over the sides of his goblet onto the floor.

Seifer shook his head smiling, "And what would I stand to gain dear Mephisto?"

" My undying companionship of course." And the drunken man bowed.

Seifer rubbed the scar between his eyes with two fingers, " You make me want to drink."

Irvine smacked his hand on his friend's back and started walking and pushing the blonde along with him, " That a boy, there's someone I want to introduce ya to."

Seifer allowed himself to be dragged away, despite his reluctance to leave Squall's side, but trusting that Squall would be fine. He was confidant he'd done a well enough job establishing that Squall was his personal pet and off limits to all guests. If he would have turned around to spare Squall one last glance, he would have caught the panicked look that crossed his eyes.

Pride kept him from even considering calling out Seifer's name, even though he knew the blonde would not have judged him for it. With the blonde's absence he suddenly felt utterly naked and exposed. The air felt that much harsher against his skin and his chest constricted in apprehension. And then anger warmed his limbs. How dare the blonde expose him like this and then leave?

With a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes he met with the bloated face of a drunk noble smiling at him.

His stomach curled and silently prayed to be struck down by Hyne as the shapeless form of a man approached him.

" I wanted to get a closer look at the slave that has demanded all of the host's affection." The portly man chortled, licking his lips as his eyes raked over Squall's body. "And my, you are a beauty. How selfish of him to keep you all for himself. The man needs a lesson in sharing if you ask me." He finished his eyes landing on Squall's semi erect penis.

Squall's nostrils flared violently.

As the man reached a hand out in the direction of his groin Squall thrashed against his bindings and hissed, " Don't. Touch. Me."

The man recoiled his hand abruptly as if he'd been burned the words. His face went blank with shock before he recovered and cackled smugly.

" Well, quite the feisty one I see. Apparently Seifer has failed to impart to you the importance of obedience. I knew that boy wasn't the trainer he has been talked up to be. Perhaps I should do him the favor of disciplining you myself." He said with a glimmer in his eyes.

Squall's breathing became erratic but he forced himself to remain composed. Then the man circled around him and disappeared from his vision. Squall snapped his neck from side to side in an attempt to keep the man in sight. When he felt his bindings being pulled on he stilled and was overwhelmed with the urge to laugh out in blessed irony.

The fool was unfastening his binds! He really thought he'd be able to tame him. His limbs trembled with adrenaline. This could be his opportunity to escape. As fool-hearted as the attempt might be in a manor swarming with nobles he had to take the opportunity granted to him by Hyne.

It took every ounce of discipline he had to remain stoic as the man went about clumsily undoing the bindings, not wanting to give himself away.

As soon as he felt a tug on the ropes against his arms to dismount the pillar he did. The cold floor under his feet almost a surreal feeling. It shook his core and in that moment escape seemed real.

" Now boy, kneel before me!" The foolish nobleman demanded, tugging on the bindings that now were mere bracelets on his wrists.

Squall glared at the noble with stormy eyed glazed with madness. His lips curled into a sadistic smile before he lunged with a feral growl at the noble and forcibly took the rope from his hands and wound it around his throat.

A gurgled protest emitted from the nobles' lips and salvia spewed onto his chin and Squall's wrists as he continued to try and yell for help. They fell to the ground, Squall rolling them so that he was beneath the large thrashing man.

Squall showed no mercy. He forced the man against his chest and pulled the rope as tight as it would go around the man's neck. The course twine bit into the noble's neck, a purple imprint already visible when the man tried to twist out of Squall's hold.

Squall was consumed by the power, drunk from the taste of freedom on his tongue. He pulled the rope with the thoughts of revenge and justice searing his skull.

It wasn't until a shrill female scream broke his lust for blood that he realized he was about to kill a man. He loosened his hold on the man's neck, the noble gasping for air immediately.

Before he could conjure any semblance of a plan of what to do next he heard a familiar baritone voice booming through the crowd of nobles that was rushing towards them.

" What has happened here!?" Seifer shouted in unreserved anger.

Squall kicked out from underneath the man, pushing his overly larger frame away from him and scurried to his feet. His only thought to run from that menacing voice. However Seifer had already broken through the crowd, roughly pushing people aside his eyes wide at the sight before him.

Squall stood and fell backwards with the force of scurrying to his feet, but before his bare bottom could touch the ground, strong hands encircled around his upper arms. Darting his eyes to his left and right he saw the familiar faces of Raijin and Zell on either side of him, restraining him. He thrashed against their solid grips in vain. He'd been at the opposing end of their brute strength once before, there was no escaping them. Even if he did manage to weasel out of their grasps, he'd be chased down like a dog.

Huffing he snapped his neck back to the impending blonde, his heart thudding wildly against his chest. He was reeling from residual bloodlust, adrenaline still coursed through his veins.

Seifer's wide eyes locked with his fervently and then to the gagging noble kneeling on the floor.

" That beast of a boy attacked me! I demand his head for this!" The nobleman rasped out, spit spewing from his trembling lips as he clawed at his tender throat.

Seifer bent to pick up a piece of Squall's binding, examining that it had clearly been cut. His face went disturbingly blank.

" And how was it that he was able to attack you, Eumolpus?" Seifer asked rhetorically for it was evident from his angry tone that he already knew the answer.

" The insolent slave insulted me and needed discipline." The man named Eumolpus barked, oblivious to the anger being directed at him.

At his answer Seifer's eyes went alight with a feral madness. He clutched the binding in his fist and took a stride forward.

" And so you took it upon yourself to discipline my slave?" He asked dangerously low.

Eumolpus looked up at the figure towering above him in fear. He caught the dangerous gleam in his emerald eyes.

" I-."

" That is my personal slave," Seifer annunciated clearly, pointing to Squall, " He is not meant to be touched and tainted by your hands."

Squall was frozen in place. He was reeling with disbelief that Seifer was defending his violent attack against one of his own.

The noble staggered onto his unsteady feet retreating slightly from Seifer's form, " But he attacked me, certainly your allegiance-."

" He was protecting what was not yours to tarnish. This is the greatest affront you could have committed in my home." Seifer cut him off angrily taking a step forward again.

The room was aghast in hushed murmurs. Noblewomen held onto the cuffs of their husband's shirts, slaves hid behind their masters. Irvine appeared through the crowd a few feet behind Seifer, stopping altogether to witness the scene unfolding before them.

It was now that Eumolpus understood the gravity of his situation and succumbed to denial in a futile attempt to spare himself from the blonde's wrath, " I had no idea he was your personal sl-."

" You did know." Seifer hissed, his eyes narrowing into mere slits, " And for that, I cannot let this go unpunished." He finished in cold finality.

Gasps erupted and echoed throughout the vast chambers from guests and Eumolpus alike. Though this was the Almasy estate. And no one would fault the lord of the manor for avenging his family name.

" I demand the things you've affronted me with as retribution, your hands." Seifer announced somberly.

" Sir!" Eumolpus gasped.

Seifer snapped his fingers and two guards grabbed Eumolpus in the same fashion Squall has been grabbed. Seifer retreated towards the pillar Squall had been taken from. The two guards dragged the protesting man and forcibly stretched his arm out across the pillar. It took much effort on the guards are to restrain the thrashing man, dreading his fate.

Seifer then turned and locked eyes with Squall, a sadistic smile curling his lips. Squall felt his stomach lurch at the twisted chivalrous justice that Seifer felt was warranted. He unsheathed a dagger from inside his long coat and flipped it in his hand, the handle pointing towards Squall.

" Squall…I give you the honor of taking what belongs to me now."

Squall's breath hitched. The slaves at his sides forced his feet to move closer to the atrocity before him.

Seifer smiled at the disbelief in his slave's usually proud eyes.

" Go on, no one will stop you."

The hands at his arms released him. He stared at the handle of the dagger with wide eyes. This was all surreal. Sure he wanted the man's head moments ago but this was…too much. He heard Eumolpus whimper incoherent words at his side. At that moment he looked up into Seifer's feverish eyes.

" Such a gruesome display would surely spoil the mood of this wonderful event, don't you agree _Seifer_…" A foreboding voice chuckled darkly, commanding all heads to turn and acknowledge its presence.

Seifer flipped the dagger handle back into his hand as he veered to face the ascending figure of the Count of Monte Cristo. The sea of nobles parted as he advanced towards the display, but unexpectedly he stopped a few feet short of Seifer and company.

Seifer's fingers clutched the dagger tightly, itching to use it.

" You're not welcome here." He growled.

Squall looked into the dark orbs that should have been eyes in the Count. The man's soul was so dark you couldn't see into his eyes. It wasn't fear that made Squall unconsciously back into Raijin's broad chest, but the profound sense of unease that there was something unnatural about this man, a darkness residing in him that shouldn't exist in humans.

If Seifer felt the same, Squall didn't sense it, the blonde was probably too dense to sense that.

" And I don't want to be here. But it still stands that you have something that belongs to me." The Count said in amusement.

" I have nothing of yours." Seifer barked back, shifting to an offensive stance.

" Ah, but you do. I come here to give you one last chance to deliver what is owed to me before I forcefully take it from you." The dark man spoke in mock sincerity.

" I owe you nothing. And your hands will never touch Nida again."

" Ha. Keep the boy. But I will have what is owed to me Almasy. And since I've been so patient in waiting for your delivery, I think I'm well within my right to demand interest." The Count continued in an air of exalted arrogance.

" You have no right to demand anything of me. Now leave!" Seifer hissed venomously, his eyes glowing with bloodlust.

From one interrupted venture to another, he was on the verge of imploding.

The Count's lips sealed into a tight line. It room seemed to get colder as the Count's mood dropped.

" Give me that boy right there and I'll graciously take my leave." The Count stated in dark severity.

He pointed at Squall.

Seifer's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. The Count smiled at having exploited a weakness. Filled with a sense of confidence from the discovery the count dared take a step closer.

Squall's heart dropped. He panicked, assuming Seifer's silence meant his consent and why the Count dared step closer.

His instinct told him to run, but he was held against the broad chest of Raijin. Before the message could be sent to his brain to struggle, his nerves were quelled by that familiar voice.

" Take another step and I kill you. I stand to gain nothing by letting you live…" Seifer snarled with the ferocity of a beast.

In that moment Squall had never been more thankful for Seifer's ego.

The Count arched a dark brow that cruel amusement slipping back over his features.

" Hm. This was your last chance Almasy…" He smiled before turning on his heels in a steady retreat.

The room seemed able to breath again with the ominous threat of bloodshed gone. Seifer watched attentively until the Count was through the door before he snapped his neck towards the two guards still holding a pale-faced noble. The man seemed to forget that he was being restrained amidst all the tension, but as soon as Seifer turned to face him, he whimpered again and struggled vainly.

Jade eyes flickered to Squall his face guarded, but searching for something. Finding what he needed he then turned towards Irvine.

" This party is over." He stated grimly to his violet-eyed friend.

Irvine nodded his consent that he was responsible for clearing the estate out.

Seifer then turned on his heels and strode off towards the staircase but not before stopping at Raijin and Zell and stating, " Bring Squall to my chambers."

And again impossibly strong bodies dragged him along. He was too overwhelmed to fight; too overwhelmed by everything that had happened. He was at the mercy of whatever forces acted upon him. It was with this sense of resignation that he entered the bedchambers of Seifer and watched the man pace instead of struggling against the bulky slaves.

Running a hand through his short hair Seifer exhaled sharply, " Leave me with him and tell my servants to run a hot bath."

The burly slaves nodded and abruptly left with a quiet click of the door closing behind them.

Squall still felt the pressure in his arms where their hands gripped him. He massaged his sore arms. At this Seifer stopped his pacing and faced Squall in silent examination. He knew that the emerald eyes that danced across his face and body were not defiling. He felt no lust there. Instead at the anxious appeal in his eyes he knew Seifer was berating himself. He was searching for any harm done.

The earlier ambivalence he felt towards the blonde was replaced by gratitude. He found himself at ease around the blonde. He was thankful for the ordeal to be over and to be confined to the solitary presence of one man. And in a twisted sense, he felt appreciation for Seifer. Never in his life had anyone defended him so adamantly. In Seifer's world he could imagine the contempt that those of his rank held for him for committing such a strong taboo. He'd publicly defamed a fellow noble in his defense of a slave and threatened to kill another. He could have spared himself the trouble by simply letting the noble touch him or handing him over to the Count. Yet here he stood with grief-laden eyes, grieving for a wounded slave, not for his wounded pride.

Their eyes met in an unspoken treaty. Seifer unsheathed the dagger in his coat and breached the distance between them.

Squall made no move to run.

Seifer stopped a few inches in front of him and searched Squall's face one last time. He gingerly cupped Squall's wrist and sliced it free from the remaining twine bindings. He did the same to the other wrist, and then knelt to the ground to work on the bindings around his ankles.

All the while Squall stood still gazing at the bowed blonde head curiously.

The bedchamber door clicked open, the sloshing of water in pales indicating that the slaves had done their duty. Seifer neither moved nor looked to acknowledge the assembly line of servants that dumped steaming water into the bathtub in the adjacent room.

They left as Seifer had cut through the last of the twine around Squall's ankle. Seifer stood slowly to his full height with a grave look in his eyes.

" Go to the bath." He commanded lowly before ambling into the bathroom.

And Squall followed.

Entering the room Seifer pointed to the tub of steaming water, " Wash yourself then tell me when you're done."

Squall blinked in confusion as he stood at the edge of the tub. He glanced over at Seifer who had retreated the short distance to the opposite side of the room. He leaned casually against the wall, his legs crossed at the ankles, a distant look glazing his eyes as he looked down at nothing in particular. He didn't make any move to undress himself or direct Squall any further.

Refusing the luxury of a much-needed bath would have been ill conceived. Feeling the heat creep up his legs from the tub's edge Squall decided he could benefit from the soothing properties of the warmth. Gingerly stepping in one foot at a time he inhaled shakily as his skin was surrounded by heat. Submerging himself up to his neck in the water he allowed himself to close his eyes. He had never lain in a bathtub before. His baths always consisted of bathing in the river sources of using a basin and towel to wash off. Such decadence was beyond anyone from his village. He never knew the sensation of being surrounded by wet heat before. The indulgence was brief lived as he picked up the washcloth and soap next to the tub and began scrubbing himself clean of the grim on his skin. He removed the black ring around his penis, looking up at Seifer and surprised to see his eyes still downcast. Putting the wretched ring on the side of the tub he continued washing himself, thankful for the small liberty of freeing his semi-erect penis. It was painful to wash that area. He wanted nothing more than to release the trapped pressure in his organ, but he refused to succumb to a temptation brought on reluctantly by a sadistic blonde.

He watched as the clear water turned a murky gray. Once satisfied he looked over at Seifer, surprised to see the blonde hadn't moved his eyes at all. He stood up from the tub, a surge of water dripping from his body and gaining Seifer's attention. Seifer looked him over once, no doubt noticing the absence of the dreaded ring, but ignored it and threw a towel at him.

Briskly drying his body and hair he watched Seifer leave the room without stealing a glance at him. When he finished drying he stepped into the bedchamber, leaving the damp towel behind. His skin immediately felt cold in the drafty room. His eyes sought out Seifer in the dim lighting.

" There's salve on the desk, use it to soothe your bottom." His voice was hard.

Squall turned to see the man leaning against the edge of the bed, arms and ankles crossed, a somber gleam in his eyes.

Turning away from Seifer indifferently he padded over to the desk and picked up the vile of cream left there for him. Glancing back at the blonde who did nothing but watch he felt self-conscious under such harsh eyes, but decided that moving back to the bathroom might provoke Seifer to shackle him again.

With his damp back to the blonde Squall smeared a generous amount onto his fingers and reached behind him to rub it into the tender flesh. The cream cooled the throbbing immediately. Squall was able to reach most of the sore areas in an upright position, but feeling the welts that crept down his buttocks and reached his thighs it was necessary for him to bend over in order to reach those areas. Bending forward slightly and bracing himself with one hand on the desk he used the other to massage the cream into those difficult areas. Absorbed in the soothing sensation of the cream he didn't hear the succession of quiet footfalls behind him until Seifer was pressed firmly against his back. He groaned at the weight of the man against his tender flesh.

In a swift motion Seifer cuffed his wrists in familiar heavy shackles. Clenching his jaw he cursed the blonde for tricking him and ending his short-lived freedom.

Those same hands reached over Squall and dipped into the salve, forcing Squall to brace himself against the desk with both hands. Seifer removed his arm from around Squall and applied it firmly against his bottom. Squall tensed beneath him, willing himself to relax. There was a sense of urgency in Seifer's ministrations. Against everything that had occurred tonight Squall didn't want to chance his life at provoking an already enraged blonde or earning himself another set of shackles.

" You won't be punished for your actions tonight." Seifer spoke huskily as he continued rubbing the salve into Squall's skin.

Squall breathed a silent sigh and his shoulders visibly relaxed.

" Eumolpus deserved what he got. He is a pedant who prides himself on his poetry, though no one else can stand it." Seifer spoke gruffly in dry humor.

The blonde's breathing became more labored and the rubbing motions became frantic kneading of flesh.

Squall closed his eyes and clenched his jaw tighter his body beginning to betray him once again.

" I almost wish he would have licked you so I could have cut out his tongue to never hear that nonsense again." Seifer whispered hotly against his ear than delivered a light lick to it.

Squall flinched and swallowed thickly from the surge of heat that started in his groin and chest as Seifer's ministrations became more erotic.

It was painful to become even slightly aroused once more. His balls were heavy and burdensome between his thighs. They wanted to be emptied. They needed to be emptied.

Before he could push against Seifer and demand his distance, Seifer asked hotly, " do you want to come?"

Squall's eyes went wide and he tensed beneath Seifer.

Of course he wanted to! The man knew that! But begging was beyond Squall. He wouldn't shame himself by allowing the blonde to know that he needed release because of him. Squall snarled and went to push himself away from Seifer, the boundaries of their treaty beyond breached. Seifer anticipated this and moved his arms from beneath him, forcing Squall to slip forward against the desk. He pressed himself against Squall's back, keeping him trapped between the desk and his chest.

" You've earned it." Seifer rasped breathlessly, his hands kneading Squall's butt cheeks.

Squall bit his bruised lip, trying to deny the pleasure he felt at Seifer's hands.

Fighting for his footing to push off against Seifer, the blonde grabbed his swollen ball sacs in his fist. Squall groaned involuntarily at both the pain and pleasure of his sensitive balls being handled so roughed. He immediately stilled beneath Seifer.

" These need to be emptied. Let me." His voice was needy and demanding. It seemed he needed this as much as Squall did.

The hand squeezed his balls and a poorly stifled groan was forced from his lips.

That was all the incentive Seifer needed before he pushed Squall's hips forward while bending a leg and pushing it on top the desk in a less than graceful fashion. Then the blonde mounted over Squall on all fours and reached around to grab his straining erection.

Something between a strangled moan and cry tore from Squall's throat. He growled and bowed his head between his cuffed wrists.

He couldn't fight Seifer like this, he could barely move without it creating incredible pain throughout his body.

Seifer fisted the hot organ tightly, able to feel the flow of blood within it and gave it a firm stroke. Squall's hips involuntarily bucked even though he growled in warning again.

" You won't say it, but I know that's a yes." Seifer growled as he delivered a long lick to Squall's earlobe in time with another firm stroke.

Squall arched his back, which consequentially rubbed his butt against Seifer's crotch. The blonde emitted a gruff moan and pumped the slick flesh in his fist. Squall bowed his head in shame at his body's wanton reactions.

But Hyne it felt so good!

It was hard to think about anything at all when such intense pleasure coursed through him.

Seifer's hands were already slick from the salve, which made it easy to pump the organ comfortably. In no time at all the blonde had Squall leaking fluids, which added considerably to the slickness of his hand and the speed to which Seifer could fist the brunet.

Squall banged his head against the desk top, uttering a stream of incoherent curses. Seifer's eyes glowed with a feral passion as he made the boy writhe beneath him. He dipped his head and licked the light sheen of sweat that accumulated between Squall's shoulder blades. His tongue licked at any exposed flesh, he couldn't get enough. The pungent smell of arousal was intoxicating.

He felt like an animal.

Squall's hips began to rock against his hand and those little noises became louder. He was close.

Seifer swiped his thumb across the leaking slit roughly and Squall cried out in his low sultry voice.

It drove Seifer over the edge.

Sliding his hand back over his erection he pumped at a frantic pace, wanting, needing to make Squall come hard.

Breathing hard Squall thrust and rocked back against that tight fist, seeing nothing else in sight but release.

Seifer bit into his shoulder hard and it came over him, hard. His body tensed and he arched his back like a bitch in heat, his mouth falling open, but no sound came at first, delayed by the sheer force of the orgasm.

He shot his hot seed out with staggering force. It coated his stomach and Seifer's relentless fist. Seifer continued to milk the boy expertly of every drop. His seed dripped from his stomach and Seifer's fist onto the desk.

Squall's body broke into tremors, breathing heavily.

Seifer continued to fist the slowly softening organ while delivering hard kisses to his shoulder and back.

" Never." He pressed a hard kiss to Squall's shoulder, " Never again." He licked the bite mark on his shoulder. " Will someone else touch you", He breathed huskily against his back.

Reeling from the force of his orgasm Squall could do nothing but breath.

Seifer removed his hand from around Squall and licked it clean of the bitter fluid. Squall shifted and watched the abnormal display. It was an extremely intimate act. He never imagined Seifer wanting to share that kind of intimacy with someone, especially someone he considered his slave. But Squall was too delirious to put much more thought into it than that.

Picking Squall up, Seifer carried him to the bed and gingerly placed him there, then left for a moment and returned with his damp towel. He gently wiped Squall's stomach and his softened penis clean of his seed. Casting the soiled towel onto the floor Seifer stripped himself of his clothing and crawled into bed next to Squall. He needed to feel the boy against him, for his own sanity. Squall weakly protested but was soon lulled to sleep from sheer exhaustion, but not without one final jerk against Seifer before he drifted off into a deep sleep.

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TBC…

A/N: Oh my goodness that took forever to pump out! Some of the Giton and Encolpius story was fabricated but based off of both Fellini and Petronius's account of the couple.

Ruid I hope you're happy that I gave him a bath! I know it probably wasn't the erotic scene you were hoping for, but I promise more bath scenes are later to come!

If you tell me what you want to see in your reviews you might be surprised to see them answered…hehe!


	12. Dancing for Dollars

**A/N**: It is a good day on earth that **Miss Dincht** has risen from her grave and reviewed my story after she swore off fanfiction! I may die in peace now.

I told **Chemotaxis** that I'd update either when I had the time or when I reached 100 reviews, and it just so happened that they both coincided. Hooray to **Carabel** for being my 100th reviewer! And I want to say thank you to everyone who has continually supported my endeavors in tackling this epic!

I apologize for the huge delay on the chapter, but it was becoming too much of a chore too quickly to write this. I just needed a break, the last thing I want is to produce something contrived and forced. What I need is some fan love. Come on guys, tell me how much you love this story and want me to continue, or else I fear this epic may take decades to finish!

**Master of Slaves**

**Chapter 12: Dancing for Dollars **

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Beads of sweat rolled down his sleek forehead and past his moist lips. Lips that parted with every rushed exhale and jagged inhale of air. He hastily brushed his plastered bangs from his squalling eyes, eyes that were transfixed on the powerful blonde's body moving in front of him.

Seifer had never seen Squall's eyes so alight with excitement before.

It made him unhinge.

In a swift motion he breached the distance between them and met the hard resistance of Squall's wooden sword with his own.

The ensuing grunt of animalistic fervor that came from those plush parted lips made his blood pulse quicker betwixt his veins.

The animal was alive.

He could devour him.

With a lick of his lips Seifer delivered a fancy twist and slash.

The clanging of heavy wood against wood echoed through the vast outdoor atrium.

Squall stumbled over his footing trying to sneak a counterattack, his bare feet kicking up the sand. He swayed awkwardly, as did his marking of manhood between his legs.

Watching the flex of gently toned muscles in Squall's thighs and stomach reminded Seifer why he forbade his slaves clothing and why the ancient Galbadians were geniuses.

Despite the brunet's nudity, he was enjoying this almost as much as Seifer was…

While Seifer got the show, Squall got the opportunity to impart physical damage onto his captor, even if he had yet to score a hit.

The scar on the bridge of the blonde's nose crinkled as he smirked lecherously at the defiant brunet.

He wanted him… Hyne above hyne he wanted him.

With his gloved hand he beckoned the little lion. It was an emasculating gesture.

And Squall answered with an angry rush.

It was exactly what he wanted.

As anticipated the flustered brunet hastily delivered a sloppy attempt at a side-swing.

Seifer easily disarmed him, sending Squall lurking forward with his own momentum, and for good measure, smacked his bottom lightly with his sword.

" Rule one in sparring, never attack in anger. You must keep a level head if you expect to score a hit on your enemy." Seifer exclaimed smugly with a loop-sided grin.

Squall growled and kicked his weapon aside.

" The playing field isn't level!" Squall shouted coarsely, canines flashing beneath his lips.

Seifer arched his brow and straightened his stance.

" Are you accusing me of cheating?" The blonde remarked seductively.

" You have more experience. And clothing! I don't!" Squall huffed, pointing to the blonde's attire while still trying to catch his breath.

Seifer stared at the boy for a moment, and then slowly the most feral grin crept over his lips. It was enough to make Squall straighten up and take a step back.

" And you'd like to level the playing field?" Seifer asked huskily, licking his lips.

Stormy eyes narrowed suspiciously. However, he nodded.

" Very well. That's a fair enough request." The blonde answered succinctly.

Squall's brows knit in confusion as he watched Seifer stab his sword into the sand and shrug out of his coat.

He tossed his coat haphazardly across the sand pit.

Brows drawn and lips quirked in the most lecherous way Seifer captured Squall's gaze as he undressed.

Squall's eyes grew wide as he watched Seifer disrobe. The blonde's smirk growing as he watched realization dawn upon Squall.

Stuttering sounds of protest sat strangled upon Squall's lips, but died completely as the blonde's breeches slid down his thighs and he stood exposed in all his glory.

Eyes drawn down involuntarily Squall quickly looked away as he noticed the slight erect state of Seifer's manhood.

His thoughts immediately went to the image of Nida sucking off a very erect Seifer.

He looked like a Galbadian God. The golden rays of light flitting across the body that looked like the hands of Hyne had sculpted it.

He tore his eyes away and fiercely ground his teeth in anger, a slight tinge to his cheeks.

Seifer smirked hands on hips.

" We'll use hand to hand combat." Seifer proclaimed.

Squall looked up scowling at the irony of 'leveling' the playing field.

He forgot to account for Seifer's sadistic tendencies.

" No." Squall deadpanned turning his back to Seifer and trekking through the sand back into the manor.

" The ancient Galbadians did it…for sport. Using nothing but their bodies, no swords, no armor, just flesh on flesh and hand to hand." Seifer voiced against the complaints of the sullen brunet.

Squall stopped. A small shiver usurped his being at the implications of Seifer's statement.

With his back still towards the naked blonde he gave his final answer, " No."

Behind him Seifer's smirk turned something lustfully wicked.

" What makes you think you have an option here?" Seifer asked amusedly his eyes glued onto Squall's backside.

Squall stopped again clenching his fists.

" What makes you think I'd willingly fight you?" He spat out looking over his shoulder.

Seifer chuckled darkly, " Because you always do little lion."

And like something from a legend, as if the wind carried him across the sand pit, Seifer was behind him in barely a breath's time.

" And passivity doesn't suit you." He breathed huskily into his ear, then in a brisk motion snaked his arm around Squall's front and grabbed his limp manhood.

Attesting to his accusation Squall's instinctual reaction was to swing his elbow into the blonde behind him.

But the blonde had baited him and knew that was coming and easily ducked and skillfully played the momentum of his strike against him and led him to the sand with an easy shove.

" What'd I tell you?" Seifer laughed.

With a contrasting snarl Squall scuffled off the sand and charged into the blonde.

He aimed low knowing that was the only way he would be able to take the brute of twice his size down.

When the crown of his head connected with his lower abdomen a surprised chuckle came from Seifer as he was driven backwards and down into the sand.

Squall scrambled with ferocity to pin the larger man down but ended stomach down in the sand as Seifer rolled away and mounted his back.

The blonde was big but also agile.

Squall hadn't accounted for that either…

Seifer shoved a knee into the middle of Squall's sweaty back and twisted a flailing limb behind him, bringing him into submission.

" Look at where all that anger lands you. Not that I'm complaining, I quite like you in this position." The blonde taunted and sniggered lightly.

Every chuckle, every laugh scalded his ears and incensed him further.

He was laughing at him,

Mocking him,

Emasculating him.

His vision blurred red and a guttural growl ripped past his sand painted lips.

Calling upon some supernatural force he managed to throw Seifer's weight of balance and roll away from the offending hold.

Rolling into a low crouch Squall turned towards the blonde and watched, a deathly fervor glazing his eyes.

Seifer recovered into a crouch and leered at the predatory gleam in Squall's eyes that usually lay dormant.

The lion had come out to play.

Flexing his fingers the blonde steadied himself.

" How about we raise the stakes a bit? Loser does the winner's bidding." Seifer rasped his eyes melded with Squall's.

Gray eyes narrowed into slits.

" Fuck you."

And the lion charged, the muscles in his thighs and calves straining with the force of his lunge.

Two sweaty hard bodies collided into the other and commenced into a cyclic dance.

Rolling against the sand and sliding against the other's wet flesh one would gain the upper hand and then it would be stolen by the other.

Squall could feel the numerous places across his limbs where Seifer's large hands gripped with purpose. He knew tomorrow there would be bruises of all colors.

Grinding, struggling, and grappling against each other two bodies melded into one extension of indistinguishable flesh. Both so consumed in battle, both driven to wild abandon that neither realized their aroused states until both were on their sides, Seifer behind Squall, deadlocking his limbs. His arms wound around Squall's and forcing them up and over his head and his glistening thighs girding Squall's hips and legs entwined with legs.

Squall felt the power with which Seifer's muscular thighs gripped his hips, his own trembling with exertion. He felt Seifer's shallow breaths in his ear and a sudden chuckle.

" Feel that Squally-boy?" Seifer grunted out and ground his hips roughly into Squall's backside.

Squall thrashed against him but Seifer held him completely subdued. And so he was forced to recognize the feeling of a very erect penis rubbing against the sweaty cleft of his ass.

Squall growled in warning, chest heaving with exertion.

Seifer forced out a laugh, " Hypocrisy isn't very becoming of you."

Squall managed to rasp out an incredulous _'what'_ between jagged breaths.

Confused, he looked down as best he could and saw what Seifer was referring to.

He was also hard.

Fuck, Hyne above…

Denial cloaked his mind, his only reaction was a subsequent growl, and he resumed thrashing against Seifer.

His struggling served to only rub the blonde's erection harder and faster between his buttocks.

Seifer released a throaty moan behind him and bucked his hips against Squall, " keep it up Squall this is a win-win situation."

Sweaty and sandy Squall snarled, " Let go!"

Seifer leaned forward, his abdomen flexing in the process and he bit Squall's ear. Somehow he managed to lock both of Squall's hands in one and his newly freed hand took bold liberties.

In a firm grasp he took Squall's slick shaft in hand and gave it a firm stroke. The flesh twitched of its own volition.

Adrenaline surged through Squall's veins and caught in his throat, stealing his breath from him.

" Relax." Seifer whispered gruffly against his ear as he worked his fist up and down Squall's stiff organ.

The brunet bit his lip and tried to arch away from the offending hand, but only succeeded in pushing his butt into that pulsating erection behind him.

And it encouraged the blonde.

Feeling Squall's throbbing erection hot in his hand made him harder.

The predator was out to play.

He wanted to take him right there, claim him, mark him with his seed.

But his little lion was still unwilling.

As Squall continually thrashed and arched against Seifer in futility, Seifer laughed, a strangled laugh.

This was far more amusing than any other game he had ever played before.

" I know you want release, just submit and I will give it to you." Seifer bit out hotly, his face contorting in the efforts to keep the brunet restrained and continue to toy with his genitals.

Squall answered with a half groan half growl and willed his limbs to dance against Seifer's again.

Seifer knew most of the brunet's sounds by now, having been the one to evoke a majority of them. The brunet was close – and angry.

" Come on Squall, just say it." Seifer forced out against another wave of lashing limbs.

Sweet hyne above say it! Even with all his stamina the blonde was quickly dwindling.

Every arch of the brunet's back sent sweet friction through his loins.

He was beyond ready to explode.

And because of this sweet torture, Seifer was going to make Squall feel the same.

Pushing his hips up forcefully into the brunet's cleft, his erection slide between sweaty cheeks and his hand furiously pumped the stiff organ, trying to milk it.

Squall writhed against him in agonizing pleasure. He arched his neck and bit his lip to stifle the moan that he couldn't quite hold back.

The sweat against Seifer's palm mingled with rivets of pearly fluids that leaked from Squall's twitching cock and made a sloshing noise as he picked up his speed.

Suddenly Squall stilled, a choked growl joining his rapid panting. Seifer felt every limb he held tense and he knew he was about to bring the brunet over the edge. And so he released the pulsating organ and strangled the brunet's balls in his hand, pulling tight.

" Say it Squall." Seifer hissed, voice burning with lust.

Squall arched back painfully as his climax was withheld from him by violating hands.

Seifer closed his eyes against the sensations the arching sent to his cock, and bit into Squall's shoulder, but it was too late.

Tensing, he gripped with bruising force as his shaft twitched and his seed splashed between the clefts of Squall's cheeks and onto his lower back.

Seifer's moan came muffled against Squall's shoulder while the brunet hissed in pain at Seifer's python grip.

Squall felt light-headed from the adrenaline that came with feeling Seifer's sticky seed coat his back.

Panting harshly the blonde chuckled, released Squall's balls, and circled his thumb over the leaking tip.

" You want it so bad you're wet, just say it."

Utterly incensed by the pleasure the blonde gave him and the guilt that came with it, that finger teasing his overly sensitive head gave Squall enough adrenaline to somehow writhe an arm free from Seifer's grasp.

Still slow from the sensations of his ejaculation, Seifer couldn't catch the arm in time.

With lightening speed Squall forced it back into Seifer.

The elbow connected with Seifer's mouth, forcing his teeth to cut his lip.

Acting instinctually from the shock of pain waves Seifer moved on top Squall's back, twisting the arm behind him and pinning him on his stomach.

Cheek pressed roughly into the sand Squall grit his teeth and growled. He felt Seifer's knee slide down his sleek back, the combination of cum and sweat displacing it.

Squall wheezed with one last jolt of strength in trying to thrown Seifer off his back. Seifer quieted his struggle with an overly firm press into the back of his neck.

With his free hand he palmed his bloody lip, looking at the bright crimson smear. Licking his lip he tasted the bitter metallic of his blood.

He heard the blonde above him laugh coarsely, throat closed up with exertion.

" Though impressive, you will be punished for that." The amusement in his throaty voice was evident despite his wound.

He moved to stand, pulling Squall up by his arm, keeping him close and restrained.

" And you will not be granted release either." Seifer whispered hoarsely into his ear.

Squall jerked in Seifer's grasp but the blonde held him with hard purpose. Both men scuffled back into the manor with sand and sweat plastered bodies. Squall stubbornly fought him every step of the way, because they both knew he was entirely too drained to accomplish anything.

The weeks of remaining sedentary under chain and shackle had made him weak. He tingled with rage to think that he would actually stand a chance against Seifer if the blonde hadn't robbed him of his liberty to move freely.

The confines of the manor were cool compared to under the blaring sun and he immediately shivered upon stepping foot inside. He felt the smears of Seifer's bodily fluids drying rapidly on his skin and become disgustingly sticky.

It didn't make him want to hurl like it should have. And that worried him. How fucked in the head must he be to not feel anything but utter disgust against the ultimate degradation against him?

He had been marked!

And marked by the most sacral of fluids, most vile of fluids!

Letting his head sway in defeat he allowed Seifer to lead him through the winding corridors of his manor, dropping off into deep internal thought.

His hard-on slowly wilted as his mind became more removed from the physical.

Seconds later Squall looked up at the shrill female gasp that sounded, he could only assume it had to do with their appearances. Rinoa swayed on her feet at the sight of two naked men, one her beloved master, her hands cupping her nose and mouth.

Squall kept his eyes averted, his cheeks burning slightly, but none of his embarrassment was evident against his already red face. But thank Hyne his erection had disappeared.

Her initial shock wore off as she trained her eyes quickly back onto their faces and saw blood dripping profusely from Seifer's lip.

" Oh my! Master! Are you alright! What happened!? How-" She began in a fluster.

" Just some sport, follow me." Seifer silenced her in his all authoritative tone.

And she trailed behind them, in a bit of a daze, trying very respectfully to keep her eyes off her master's backside.

Seifer turned them sharply into a room with cobblestone floors, a water pump, and a large basin in the back. He released Squall and their forward momentum made Squall stumble slightly on his own feet before turning sharply to glare at Seifer.

" You will bathe here until I get back. Rinoa will tend to your wounds." Seifer spoke sternly though the amusement still held rein over his tone.

He smirked and though Squall should have taken comfort in seeing his handy work bleed down the blonde's chin, it seemed he barely succeeded in marring that infuriating smugness.

Without even a glance at Rinoa he turned and slammed the heavy wooden door behind him. Seconds later he heard a lock latching from the outside, locking the two of them in.

Sensing that escape for the moment was hopeless locked in a room of heavy stonewalls with iron bars across the windows, he resigned to his fate.

The two of them remained motionless for a few awkward moments.

Squall felt more awkward about his nudity in the presence of Rinoa than Seifer, which irked him more his vulnerable state.

From under fallen bangs he looked up shyly at Rinoa. Immediately the raven-haired girl averted her gaze to the ground and rubbed her arm.

Her nervousness made him slightly more uncomfortable. He had no idea what to say to her, nor much impetus to say anything at all.

They could have drowned in the awkward silence that elapsed.

Finally bored with the petty exchange of glances Squall let out a heavy sigh and moved to the water pump.

He pumped water and when the bucket filled, emptied it into the basin. He repeated this several times in silence, all the while conscious of Rinoa's silent gaze on his back. He wondered if she was staring at the translucent streak of cum dried onto his back.

He shuddered.

And then he felt self-conscious.

He glanced over his shoulder at her to see her indeed gazing in mild shock at that very thing.

He ground his jaw tight wishing that wrath of a thousand needles at Seifer. His idea of 'fun' always amounted to extreme acts of degradation where Squall suffered the consequences long after the deed was done.

This was just another example of how sadistic the master of the manor could be.

Being witness to this Squall could not understand Rinoa's seemingly undying loyalty to Seifer.

Stupid girl… he'd never understand.

Shuffling softly to the basin he stepped into it and slowly lowered himself into the room temperature bath. His body went slack as his tension was released. The cool iron of the tub lip against his back felt nice against his overwrought muscles.

His eyes slid shut and he allowed himself to enjoy the serenity of the silence that ensued, and the rare absence of a hotheaded blonde. A nagging pain began in the pit of his stomach, throbbing ever more prevalently. His face creased into a deep frown.

Blue-balls.

His hand unconscious went to his pelvic region. Though he was filled with a dull throb, he welcomed it over being humiliated by having spilled his seed by Seifer's cunning hands.

Quietly Rinoa padded over and knelt beside the basin, washcloth and soap in hand, and dipped them into the water.

Squall cracked one eye open to at the noise. Seeing Rinoa reach over to wash his arm he opened both eyes and grabbed her wrist.

They locked eyes, his tired and hers surprised.

" You don't have to do that." Squall spoke quietly, almost inaudibly.

Rinoa blinked, those large doe eyes huge with confusion and contemplation.

Squall let his hand drop back into the tub but continued to watch her reaction with unconcerned eyes.

" It is Master's wish that I wash you, so I will do as he requested." Her meek voice piped up.

Squall's shoulders made the barest of a movement with his inaudible scoff at her attempt to sound resolute, but failing miserably.

Too tired to argue or care he shrugged and let his eyes slide closed again while he felt the course fabric of the washcloth work up his arm.

For a time silence resumed it's place and Squall allowed Rinoa to scrub his limbs clean of the grim, when suddenly she spoke up again, in the barest of voices.

" Your defiance amuses him."

Slowly peeling his eyes open he arched a sandy brow, casting a lazily curious look at Rinoa.

Rinoa looked down sheepishly, retracting her hand from washing and putting them in her lap.

" My…Master Almasy is entertained by your defiance. It is why he keeps you around. You entertain him. " She spoke in a small voice, avoiding Squall's eyes as if she were ashamed.

Squall merely watched her, waiting for her to continue.

Looking up with urgent eyes she began articulating her meaning, " The more you obey the quicker he will become tired of you. And then he will release you… or sell you. Then you can escape."

It took a moment for her words to fully settle. And another moment for Squall to ponder how curious it was that a devout servant of Seifer seemed almost desperate for his escape.

" I won't admit defeat." He replied stoically.

She flinched at his sharp tone and fidgeted with the washcloth, her eyes growing wider with a heightened sense of urgency.

" You don't have to. Just…pretend." She paused, her forehead creasing in contemplation, "Don't you desire freedom again?"

Taken aback by her bluntness Squall furrowed his brows.

Of course he desired freedom! He felt insulted that she would even ask that! Who in their right mind desired a life of servitude?!

The answer clearly written across his troubled features, Rinoa's intense gaze softened.

" Then you'd be wise to take my advice, or he'll never let you go." The finality with which she spoke her words made Squall's limbs grow cold.

His eyes glazed as the gravity of the situation coiled around his being like a snake constricting to kill.

Returning her hands into the basin she wrung the cloth out and looked up at him, " Would you like me to wash the rest of you, or would you like to do the remaining parts?"

He yanked his gaze back to reality and forcefully took the cloth from her and began scrubbing himself like he was infesting with the plague.

She slowly backed away from the side of the basin and watched as Squall, in a semi-conscious state of awareness, tried to rip the skin from his limbs.

She folded her hands in her lap and nervously fidgeted with them, feeling increasingly guilty by the minute. Though her intentions were to do right by her master, she couldn't help but feel like she was also wronging him. She exhaled shakily and inhaled sharply, filling herself with steel determination. She knew what needed to be done; she could repent for her guilty conscience later.

But as if Hyne was warning her, the lock on the door was unlatched and none other than the man on her mind stepped in, smelling strongly of leather and linen.

Squall snapped his head up abruptly, his eyes burning with a newfound intensity, a thoughtful intensity.

His whole demeanor reeked of haughtiness. Stepping in cautiously he shut the door behind him and locked it. Shackles and a robe were tossed haphazardly over his right shoulder. A smug grin easily curled his lips in spite of the cut that seemed rather inconsequential now that the blood was gone.

And it made Squall's unconscious frown deepen.

" Master do you need anything? Is there anything you wish for me to do?" Rinoa was the first to break the silence.

But as usual when Seifer addressed her, his eyes were solely trained on Squall.

" Not that is necessary. Thank you Rinoa. You may leave."

The raven-haired girl hesitantly began to move towards the heavy wooden door, a look of sheer desperation shining in her doe eyes. For the first time Squall realized how utterly hopeless she was. A servant girl in love with her master, a master who loves only domination. She would never be able to conjure an emotional response from him.

He pitied her.

A fool caught in her folly.

He would rather be the bitter fool than the sweet one…

She left in a hurry, struggling to close the heavy door in her wake.

And then she was out of sight and out of mind.

Seifer took an advancing step towards Squall who remained motionless in his tub of grimy water.

Squall felt those lecherous eyes racking up and down his naked body. Squall gripped the edges of the tub firmly.

Cocking a small grin he tossed a towel to Squall who caught in just before it touched the water.

" Dry off." He commanded emotionlessly.

Tossing him a harsh glare Squall stood up from the tub and vigorously rubbed his skin dry, again trying to rid his skin of Seifer's markings.

Not even looking at Seifer he felt those emerald eyes hotter than the sun burning him. He felt more vulnerable in his nudity next to Seifer who was fully clothed. But he knew it would not have made a difference if Seifer was clothed or not, he would always be a wolf in sheep's clothing.

The appearance of the perfect gentleman with the prowess of a predator.

He stood tall, back straight and eyes hard as best he could considering he was the sheep who'd caught the wolf's eye.

And that wicked smirk that followed disarmed him.

" Did you enjoy your training today?" His tone was mocking.

Squall glared, hardly considering the events that transpired to be 'training'.

Seifer shifted his weight from one foot to another, as he seemed to be mulling over an idea in his mind.

He opened his mouth but then stopped short, his brows furrowing as he looked at nothing in particular. Then slowly closed his jaw and smiled a calculating and contemplative smile.

" Let's make a bargain." He uttered, his fingers rubbing the stubble on his chin.

In that moment Seifer transformed into the reincarnation of Mephisto. And Squall knew that nothing good could come from this bargain.

" It really is unfulfilling to practice against a shadow. So…" He drawled, tapping his chin with his finger and taking another step towards Squall.

The brunet wearily regarded Seifer.

" Every morning you'll wake early and train." Seifer spoke seductively looking Squall dead in the eyes.

Squall opened his mouth to vehemently protest.

" You'll train to properly weird a blade." Seifer finished.

And Squall shut his mouth in confusion.

Seifer watched the brunet's face shift from confusion, to contemplation, to consideration, and back to confusion.

" Irvine lacks respect and…grace with a blade. I need a sparring partner." The blonde added with a smile, a genuine smile.

Squall's eyes went alight. He was hopeful yet skeptical. There was so much amiss with the proposition, so much at stake for the blonde. Seifer was giving Squall the opportunity to best him in battle, and a chance at escape.

Seifer wanted to level the playing field.

He was offering him the chance to become his equal.

…He wanted him as an equal.

Squall wasn't sure where that fit in with the master and slave dynamic.

Seifer watched Squall's brows furrow as he frowned, considering Seifer's proposal. He laughed which snapped Squall from his mind and earned him a deadly glare.

" You can trust my word. Have you ever known me to renege?" Seifer chuckled, his eyes sparkling as he regarded his skeptical slave.

Squall's frown deepened as he realized Seifer spoke the truth. Anything the blonde said he'd do… he did. He had yet to lie.

The ridiculous morality of a monster…

Meeting sharp emerald eyes Squall nodded curtly.

Seifer smirked, " Settled. However, I have two conditions."

Squall sneered.

He knew there had to be a catch…

Seifer chuckled at the offensive sneer across Squall's face, " Now hear me out."

Taking a step closer and holding up one finger, " One is that you have to maintain my blades. If you wish to wield them, you must tend to them. You will polish and clean my collection after every practice."

Squall's sneer slowly dissipated, illustrating his approval of the first condition.

It was actually a favorable condition for him, if got to toy with the blades for long periods…perhaps he could…

" And two…" Seifer smirked, snapping Squall from his reverie, " You will willingly accept your punishment for that stunt you pulled today."

Squall's initial instinct was to spit in Seifer's smug face and hiss obscenities, however, he held his tongue when he realized what was at stake. The thought of submitting to Seifer in any respect made his stomach curl and his temper flare, however, he had to remind himself that this would benefit him if he could forget his pride for a time.

Seifer's smiling eyes were transfixed on Squall's shifting face as he weighed the outcomes in his mind.

Squall focused his eyes on Seifer.

No…he would have to forget more than just his pride…his humility, his dignity, his humanity.

He flexed his fingers, remembering the feel of the blade handle in his hands. He recalled the feeling of freedom in those moments when he wielded the blade, the sense of possibility, and the adrenaline!

He looked again at those emerald eyes, shining with sadistic pleasure.

Not forget…just pretend.

Just pretend…

Pretend.

" Okay." The word barely made it past his lips in the faintest of whispers.

But Seifer heard it.

And that lecherous smirk stretched across his face, " Excellent. We start now. Put these shackles on and I'll lead you to the weapons room. I have business to attend to in town, but when I return, I expect my blades to be shining, and you… to be ready for your punishment."

Squall swallowed his resistant impulse as Seifer threw the shackles at his feet. It made his body quiver.

He had just made a deal with the devil…

* * *

Irvine slammed his mug onto the wooden table, the contents frothing over the sides, " So let me get this straight…you're not going to train slaves anymore?" He barely hid the incredulousness from his voice.

" Correct." Seifer nodded calmly.

He hid the smile from his face as he watched Irvine's violet eyes roll around with skepticism.

" Isn't it a little early for retirement?" Irvine retorted with a grin, easily sinking back into his seat and reclining a leg on the tabletop.

Seifer leaned back as well, " I never did it for the money."

" No but you love to crack the whip." Irvine drawled and chortled bringing his mug to his lips.

" I did." The blonde corrected quickly, his face serious.

Irvine laughed, choking on the alcohol he just sipped and shook his head; " I call bullshit on this one Seifer."

" I wouldn't enjoy training any new slaves." Seifer replied in all seriousness.

Irvine scrutinized his friend's face for a moment, his brows knitting briefly before the light-heartedness that defined Irvine filtered through.

In that charming sort of southern Galbadian way that Irvine had, he drawled, " I'm guessing this has to do with that stormy eyed hell cat that almost got you in serious trouble last night."

" His name is Squall." Seifer deadpanned.

" Ha, so you finally broke into him eh?" Irvine clapped his hands and sat up in his seat. " Is that where all this misplaced sentimental bullshit is coming from?"

" No, I haven't." He folded his arms across his chest.

Irvine recognized the telltale signs of his friend becoming slightly defensive over Squall. And it floored him.

Mouth gaping he stared at Seifer again, " Time out, so you haven't fucked him…and…" He rubbed the stubble on his chin delicately, " you're serious about this kid huh? You really want to keep him." He finished with a quiet smile.

" So it seems."

And it did seem that Seifer did care for the kid that he dragged in from oceans away. However, Irvine was willing to wager that it was only a temporary lapse in judgment, which would be remedied soon enough.

Leaning back casually in his seat again Irvine sniggered, " Ah, I bet you'll be singing a different tune once you break his ass in."

" I bet I won't." The blonde challenged a loopy grin playing with his lips.

" Whacha wanna bet then lover boy." Irvine drawled out mockingly. " How bout this, if I'm right, you go back to being my business partner."

" And what do I get if I win?" Seifer goaded.

Irvine's eyes were shimmering with laughter, " Well that won't happen, but hell if it does, then you can turn my ass into a slave!" He launched into a fit of laughter.

" Deal." Seifer announced slamming his fist into the table and standing up.

" Fucking washed up tamer." Irvine whispered as he took another gulp of his beverage.

Seifer eyed him amiably, " This washed up tamer has a naked slave waiting for me to discipline, so if you'll excuse me."

He took two steps before Irvine stumbled forward in his chair and slammed his mug back on the table. He quickly swallowed his beverage, which burned his throat and made his eyes water.

" Hey, what am I supposed to do with the new shipment?" He yelled in half amusement half seriousness.

Seifer looked over his shoulder and smiled at the foam mustache his friend was sporting, " Send them back."

" Fucking hell Seifer, I can't do that." Irvine laughed nervously.

" Not my problem, I'm only the middle man."

* * *

**TBC…**

I need your reviews guys! Let me know you're still with me and you still want me to continue! I read every one of them and hold them close to my heart!

Come one come all, REVIEW!!


	13. The Point of No Return

**A/N**: I would like to thank everyone so much for waiting patiently for the next installment of my wannabe epic here. I'm doing my thesis this summer so everything has been really hectic. Let me just say that I fully intend to finish this story out, for those that have messaged me worried about that. I promise to finish this story, hopefully within 2010!

On another note, I think it's interestingly ironic that a puppeteer is also called a manipulator hehe ^.^

Enjoy!

**Master of Slaves**

**Chapter 13: The Point of No Return**

* * *

Strung up like a puppet.

With strings of chain link manipulated by a sadistic puppeteer, a manipulator.

The term couldn't have lent itself to more accuracy if Squall had coined it himself, especially with the twisted smirk that played across Seifer's lips.

That wicked smirk deepened his scowl and reminded him that he had sold himself to the devil.

Casting his eyes up for the umpteenth time he gazed at the elaborate craftsmanship from which his limbs hung suspended from the rafters. He vehemently cursed Seifer's ingenuity.

He must have committed genocide in a previous life or Hyne would have at least stuck him with a conventional master, not a fucking mechanical genius.

With his lower thighs clamped and thrown apart, his upper arms and wrists bejeweled with metallic cuffs connected to a pulley that Seifer controlled at will, he really did resemble a marionette.

Squall pulled his outstretched arms down against his metal restraints only to have them yanked back up by Seifer.

He snapped his neck up at the smirking blonde.

" Just testing." Seifer grinned wolfishly.

The blonde licked his lips, his tongue slowing over the angry red bump, testament to why Squall was here in the first place. But that sweet victory seemed cobwebbed in a past long forgotten now.

Seifer casually leaned his weight on the bundle of chains in his hands, causing Squall's arms to remain outstretched from the opposing weight.

The blonde's emerald eyes seemed to sparkle under the flickering candlelight.

" As entertaining as your antics were, you will be reaping the consequences of those actions."

Squall sneered, the candles playing with his shadows to look more menacing than they were.

Seifer grinned broadly and released the little tension he held on the chains. Squall's arms fell to his sides, a loud clanking of metal sounding.

" Comfortable?" Seifer leered.

Squall closed his eyes against the tremor of rage that tingled his spine. He twitched slightly restraining himself, remembering Rinoa's advice.

If he played the obedient puppet, his manipulator would cast him aside.

Playtime…

When he reopened his eyes the usual gray hue was smoothed over by a calm blue, like placid waves.

Seifer beamed at the subtle change in his lion's demeanor, " Good, let's begin."

With the grace that only a natural predator could possess he stalked away to retrieve a chair, then returned and slowly settled into it, sliding his long limbs out as if to entice his little marionette.

Squall tightened his jaw against the sudden surge of adrenaline in his chest.

Once settled in with haughty ease Seifer leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs at the ankles, " Now as per agreement you will be saving me this laborious effort by consenting."

A chastising snort erupted in the back of Squall's throat, " I doubt this is any bit taxing for you." He dared in a low voice.

Shadows flickered across the blonde's features and seemed to shift his face into something ominously sterile, " Hold your tongue." He spoke with controlled precision, " You're going to like what I have in store."

Fixating a glare on the blonde he waited for this animal in gentleman's guise to deal his worst.

" Touch yourself." Came the gruff order from Seifer's lips …and it knocked the wind from Squall's lungs.

The brunet blinked in disbelief.

Slowly Seifer's lips curled into a small smile, " Your punishment is to relieve yourself." He could see the wheels turning in Squall's brain as he tried to process the odd order and draw out all the possibilities of where this could lead to a forked road in which he would become cornered. So Seifer decided to spell it out plain and simple for him.

" You will touch yourself, and I'm going to watch." His baritone voice rumbled and with a flick of his thumb he unclasped the button on his tightening breeches.

When it all came together in his mind Squall's gut instinct was to lash out and try, though in vain, to inflict some sort of pain onto the blonde.

With quickened breaths he willed his heart steady and his mind to reason.

Yes, it was humiliating,

His lashes fluttered against his pale cheeks.

But no more so than anything else Seifer had subjected him to in the past.

At least this time it was by his hands.

An immense pressure throbbed behind his eyes as he forced the great wall of pride within to crumble.

Detaching himself from the blonde's ever prying eyes he felt his fingers curl around his penis before he realized he was complying.

The first stroke was the most humiliating.

His hand trembled as it slowly slid down the dry flesh of his shaft.

He snapped his head to the side, his hair covering his stained cheeks. This was such an intimate act, and he was left utterly vulnerable to the sadistic blonde.

" I didn't say stop." Seifer purred.

Through his bangs stormy eyes glanced up at Seifer's smug face.

Sadistic puppet master…

The only sound was his labored breaths coming through plush lips. That arrogant look plastered on Seifer's face incensed him and gave him the impetus over that last piece of prideful debris.

The quicker he complied the sooner this would only be a distant nightmare in the back of his mind.

Squeezing himself tighter in his fist he started pumping his penis to life. Gritting his teeth and screwing his eyes shut he tried to shut himself off from the outside world. But he could feel those intense green eyes burning through his lids and into his. There really was no escaping him… but was he really trying?

As if to validate that he was he snapped his eyes open and his vision was immediately overtaken by lust-laden jade. And he met those burning eyes with cold fire. Something in the way those eyes burned his flesh and boiled his blood added to his arousal.

It was fire feeding fire.

His breaths quickened into soft gasps from between moist lips.

The first drop of moisture from his angry red tip spilled over his thumb and though Seifer's eyes never broke from his, he knew.

" Slow down." The blonde commanded huskily.

Squall's breath hitched and his eyes widened just barely at the cruel command.

He forced his trembling hand still around his throbbing erection, and with heart thudding wildly in his chest he felt that drop of cum gracefully slide over his hand. His straining cock did not want to listen to his deliberating mind and twitched in his embrace. He grit his teeth with the staggering realization that he almost unhinged in front of Seifer…

He was to play the puppet, not become one. The ease with which he almost became Seifer's willing puppet sent cold fear dripping down his spine, however, that did nothing to quell the heat in his loins, and he wondered just how much control he still had over himself.

Seifer ate up the sultry sight before him with predator-like lust growling in his green eyes. Had breathing been voluntary he would have asphyxiated as he watched elegantly long fingers slowly work that glistening shaft.

He licked his lips as the hunger coursed through his veins like a disease. It took every ounce of will power he possessed to remain seated and simply watch; it was almost as much punishment for him as it was for Squall. But as he watched grey eyes flutter and narrow hips begin to shallowly buck into his working hand, it made it all worthwhile. He flicked the second clasp on his breeches open as his pants became relentlessly tighter.

That pale face pulled taunt in conflicted pleasure was the sweetest aphrodisiac Seifer had ever known. He wanted this to be the last image he saw before he died. So when he recognized the subtle contortions in Squall's face and the desperation in his frenzied pace, he had to stop him.

With a hard pull on the chains that rested under his boot he yanked Squall's slick hands off his organ and into the air.

A desperate groan tore from Squall's throat and wide grey eyes pinned him in fierce confusion. Seifer couldn't help but smirk at how he had martyred his puppet, with rigid sex and arms outstretched; even Hyne had to be weeping. He lavished in the way Squall's slick sex slapped against his taunt stomach and the way his stomach contracted with each heady breath.

He had no doubt that Hyne was weeping…

" One stroke. Only one." Seifer rasped, voice raw with unbridled need as he let the chains slowly descend.

Squall's flushed face contorted into incredulity. Overwhelmed by the heat pulsating through his loins, logic had taken a backseat to his rival lust and Squall heard nothing of what Seifer said. As his arms descended he grabbed his twitching cock and pumped himself feverishly. He had just enough time to throw his head back before his arms were roughly jerked away and arrested high in the air again.

He growled and jerked back against his restraints. The frenzied look in his eyes made Seifer glad that he was chained.

" I said one stroke only Squall." The blonde reprimanded but it rolled off his tongue like velvet.

And a silent battle ensued. It was in the eyes, always in the eyes. Grinding his teeth against the heaviness in his balls and the heat in his groin, the silent battle became a momentary reprieve for Squall. He recognized the predatory glaze over Seifer's eyes. One word echoed in his mind and it brought him back from the land of the lustful.

One solemn and staggeringly sobering word.

Puppet.

And so he would be…

He had to be if he ever wanted to see the outside world without metal bracelets.

Seeing the tumultuous grey smooth over into passive blue, Seifer released his hold on Squall's restraints once again.

Seifer watched the brunet's trembling hand as he gripped his throbbing sex with bruising force. Then blue eyes peered up through fallen bangs and he delivered one, slow stroke to his slick cock, never once breaking eye contact.

Seifer nearly unhinged. He cock twitched in his breeches and suddenly he felt stiflingly hot.

" Two strokes." He spoke hoarsely spreading his legs a little more.

Again that elegant hand pumped up and down his shaft, his stomach muscles constricting with the effort of controlling himself. Those eyes stayed burning into Seifer's, waiting for his next command. And the fact that he had Squall at his beck and call sent such an intense pool of heat rushing to his groin he couldn't resist touching his own needy sex.

" A slow, steady pace now." The puppet master purred.

Taking a slow and unsteady breath Squall stroked the hot flesh between his thighs. Consciousness half glazed over by his bodily needs he surrendered himself to the mind-numbing pleasure. After all, it wasn't very often that he actually felt compelled to relieve himself, too wound up with anger at everything.

Seifer rubbed the prominent bulge begging to bust out of his breeches and electricity surged through his body, curling his toes. He knew he was close and he had barely even touched himself.

Interrupting the sultry brunet seemed like blasphemy, however, Seifer never contested to being a blasphemer. Abrasively he tugged the chains and brought Squall's arms up into a mock crucifixion once again.

Squall bit his lip hard to stifle the pleading moan that inevitably came. Desperate angry eyes sought Seifer.

He was in exquisite agony. He was teeming with seed ready to burst through his engorged red shaft. Seifer's eyes hungrily followed a stream of moisture that leaked from his head down his flesh and fist, over his ruddy balls and between the cleft of his buttocks.

Seifer pulled his penis from the confines of his breeches and it twitched anxiously. Eyes clouded with lust looked up at Squall to see him staring at Seifer's enflamed member. He almost smirked. He would have had he not been so aroused. At this point he too was losing all sense and sensibility.

" You may only come after me." Seifer rasped out roughly, his heightened state of arousal making it difficult to speak.

Still staring at Seifer's impressive length he absently nodded, expecting his arms to be released, but they were not. Seifer kept a firm hold on the chains and a firm hold on his cock. In a death grip he stroked himself, slowly at first, eyes locked on Squall, studying the boy's reactions. When Squall unconsciously licked his lips and his member twitched against his thigh, Seifer unconsciously sped up. He couldn't remember ever being this aroused before. His limbs trembled with the thought of taking Squall right there. He wanted to, Hyne how he wanted to. But even through frantic arousal and temptation, he couldn't disregard his moral code.

He would not take Squall without consent.

His own fluids leaked over his shaft at an alarming rate making the wet slapping sound of flesh prominent as he pumped himself faster and harder. And he released Squall's arms.

Squall matched his frenzied pace knowing nothing else except the most basic of human needs, release. He was so close he could smell it, the pungent smell of masculinity heavy in the air. His whole body was flushed and writhing under his fist, hips bucking, thighs and stomach clenching. A small cry escaped past his plush lips. Hearing such a wanton sound threw Seifer over the edge, he grunted roughly twice before his entire body tensed and he came, violently.

Following suit, Squall squeezed himself even tighter in his fist and came with a strangled moan, bucking against his hand as he shot ribbon after ribbon of hot fluid.

Joining Seifer in his symphony of jagged breaths he swooned as he rode his high from heaven. His toes went numb and he could barely keep his eyelids open. He hung his head utterly spent.

Both men sat there motionless for a few moments, collecting their remaining wits. Seifer was the first to move. He stood tucking himself back into his pants and pulling something from his pocket. Squall moved his eyes only to look at Seifer as he advanced towards him. The blonde crouched down and looked up at him with the most vibrant green in his eyes that Squall had ever seen.

A silly half smirk pulled at his lips as he began unfastening the clasps at Squall's thighs. Squall lazily followed the motions, his head leaning on a chain for support still reeling. Then the blonde began wiping the seed clean from his thighs and stomach with the handkerchief he'd pulled from his pocket. Normally Squall would have fiercely objected however he allowed it this time. He rationalized that allowing Seifer to pamper him was also part of playing the puppet he had to endure if he wanted to see the light of day again.

Perhaps now that he'd been obedient he would get some reprieve from his wicked ways. And then Squall felt a familiar ring being rolled over his flaccid penis and a familiar pressure around his overly sensitive shaft.

There would be no reprieve.

Seifer chuckled softly at the sneer on Squall's face, patting his cheek as he stood to unhook his shackles from the rafters.

He was still too dazed to muster any real negative emotion even as the blonde led him away by the cuffs on his wrists like a strung up puppet.

* * *

" Hold out your blade." Seifer deadpanned, his own wooden blade limb in his grasp.

Squall glared though it paled in comparison to the sun's glare that had him squinting furiously.

Stealing a look up at his captor standing gracefully at ease there was a second, a tiny, incomprehensible second, of appreciation that entered and left Squall's unconscious mind. The sun was vengeful. Squall could feel his skin practically searing off his sweat-slicked shoulders. But Seifer seemed to feel none of the sun's wrath; instead he stood there, tall and confident, as if the light were there to illuminate his sun-kissed skin.

A modern day Adonis.

Grimacing, Squall held out his blade, pointing it straight at Seifer's throat. He wanted to mar that smooth tan skin.

Seifer casually knocked it out of his grasp, as if he had been swatting at mosquitoes, his face impassive.

Squall glared again as he bent down to retrieve his blade.

Seifer merely scratched one of his arched brows with his free hand.

Squall detested the mode Seifer assumed while training. The blonde was infuriating enough when his intentions were clear, but now with this stoic face Squall at a loss as to what the blonde was feeling or planning.

And there was nothing more dangerous than an unpredictable Seifer.

" Hold out you blade." He commanded again in a new tone that Squall was slowly becoming acquainted with.

Squall forcefully brought the blade up again, feeling the burn in his shoulders as he did so.

And was promptly disarmed again.

Squall hissed out a vile curse as he was thrown off balance by the momentum of Seifer's blade, which left his blade sweeping across the sand. He snapped his sore neck up at the blonde with a look that would have made a lesser man weep.

He was at his wits end.

All morning the blonde had him performing grueling tasks, from stretching to sprinting, to inanely holding his arms out in front of him until his muscles collapsed from exertion, and then again. He understood the value of some of the tasks, but now he was questioning whether the blonde was taking this training proposition seriously or if he was just using this to subjugate him further.

Chest heaving and sweat dripping down his temples this is what he silently demanded from Seifer.

Instead of cracking a wise-ass bit of sarcasm like he usually did, the blonde simply turned on his heels with the same stern look on his face since dawn this morning, and retrieved Squall's fallen blade.

In a violent mixture of confusion and frustration Squall watched Seifer walk away from him, retrieve the blade, flawlessly flip it in his hand, and hold the handle end out to Squall, gesturing him to take hold of it once more.

Squall merely stared down at the handle and up again at Seifer as if he'd lost his mind.

" We're going to do this all night until you learn how to hold the damn thing properly." Seifer explained sternly, urging Squall to silently take the blade handle from him.

He felt insulted that the entire day's lesson was dedicated to holding a blade. Meeting stern green eyes that sparkled with challenge, he found the impetus to rise to the occasion. Squall forcefully gripped the blade handle. Seifer's hand lingered a moment longer than necessary on the other end of the blade before returning to a blade's length away from Squall.

" Now, hold your blade out." And Squall saw the first hints of a smile pulling at Seifer's lips since last night.

And so the rest of the day went as promised until nightfall.

However, it did not stop at nightfall.

A different kind of training began when the stars were bright.

Also as promised by their pact.

Squall was beginning to think of it as a one-sided suicide pact.

Here he was once again made to mimic a marionette. And as he craned his stiff neck up towards the rafters to inspect Seifer's handiwork his stomach churned at his lack of resolve.

The fact alone that he had taken Seifer's proposition up was testament to how malleable he had become in Seifer's hands.

Dropping his head with a deep breath of dismay he wondered just how much more malleable he'd become before he could be rid of his chains. In that very moment hands roughly grabbed his semi-erect length and squeezed, forcing his head up and a hiss from his lips.

Cloudy gray eyes met with a fierce smirk, that smirk that meant so many different things to him. But all those things were driven from his mind as a large calloused hand delivered a firm stroke to his cock, and magically brought it to life.

* * *

The days came and went as such.

Blade by day, flesh by night.

And the distinction between reality and pretend meshed into a single mold of one-sided submission, one that Seifer held in the palm of his hand.

" Proper form is vital." Seifer belayed to Squall.

His naked chest was absent of any perspiration even though the sun beat down across his flesh, accentuating every taut line of muscle definition in his upper body.

" You hold poor form." The blonde began and with godly speed and precision his blade arm snaked out and knocked the blade right from Squalls grasp, making it look like child's play. " You have already lost the first battle." He finished with smiling eyes.

Those eyes that said they held an edge over Squall.

And it unnerved Squall how the blonde was always a step ahead of him.

In a flash of light against steel Seifer wielded his blade over his back in a fanciful display of talent, then pointed the tip of his blade towards Squall.

" Now, show me your offensive stance." Seifer voiced in challenge.

All the blood rushed to Squall's head as he heard the challenge. If there was one thing Seifer was master of it was getting Squall's competitive nature to emerge.

There was thick blood between them, good and bad.

Squall assumed his offensive stance, steely eyes biding Seifer to confront him. He watched as green eyes skirted his body, lacking all of the animalistic ferocity they held at night. These eyes were judgmental but honest, always honest.

" That…" Seifer motioned with his blade at Squall's pose, " I don't know what that is. Are you ready to waltz with that steel?" The blonde critiqued, using his blade as a pointer.

Immediately Squall felt his throat tighten. He narrowed his eyes in defense. Had he been a lesser man he would have struck while Seifer was not expecting it.

" Come on, spread your feet apart and hold your power in your thighs." Seifer began demonstrating, his tone highly didactic, which indicated to Squall that his intentions really were to teach and not humiliate.

Squall listened to that tone, because he respected it. In a distorted sense he respected that Seifer was teaching his captive the art of the gunblade. It was a highly reputable art form. Although it was part of their pact that Seifer teach him the blade, there was nothing but honor that kept him true to his word. Squall knew this. And it was from this knowledge that he came to respect the boisterous blonde. He became tolerable. And when night fell extraneous tolerability remained, and it scared Squall like nothing else.

Pretending turned tolerating. He became a prisoner inside himself, unable to muster up the hatred and anger, and unwilling to fight any longer. Of course he wanted his freedom, of course he still resented Seifer, but as the days came and went, he felt his control dwindling.

He was powerless.

" Being the best isn't about being the strongest, but the quickest. You have to know your opponents next move before they do." Seifer spoke, each word articulated with a pace back and forth.

Squall stood stretched out in a proper defense stance, watching, waiting for Seifer to emphasis his next point with a strike.

" You will learn to read your opponents body. Every offense step they take, which is their dominant arm, where their weakness lies. Every step, every muscle twitch, you will see it, and only then do you have a chance at winning." The blonde spoke with such enthusiasm Squall found himself engaged, strung along by mere words.

This was what brought Seifer to life.

The Gunblade.

It was evident in the way he spoke, in his walk, and in his eyes.

Those honest eyes now shone with a childish excitement, something pure and untainted by age and vice.

Seifer halted his pacing steps in front of Squall, " You have the time in which your opponent picks up their weapon before the duel begins to do that studying." He said earnestly, brows slightly arched. And then a small smile curled his pale lips, " So you must become proficient at it."

Without turning his back to Squall he retreated four steps. Squall barely had time to register the subtle shift in weight that indicated Seifer was on the offense, " Now…what's my next move?" And then he was upon the brunet in a billowing sandstorm of agility.

Squall clumsily parried the halfhearted slash and quickly recovered into his defensive stance. Seifer was already retreating and circling Squall with quick calculating steps, trapping him inside an invisible circle.

His heart thudded in his chest to the rhythm of Seifer's steps. His sweaty fingers flexed around the handle of his blade. He tried to anticipate the blonde's next move. He watched his feet, watched his hands, watched his eyes, and failed to foresee the premeditated attack. Seifer came at him with a spin and swing. Squall grappled to block the attack but the momentum of an afterthought swing threw off his balance. Seifer diverted the momentum of his swing as he saw Squall wouldn't meet his blade. But his steel came close to drawing blood. The near mishap made him slightly nervous and anxious.

" Come on Squall! Read my body! Where am I going next?" Seifer's authoritative voice boomed out over the sand arena.

Squall staggered back to his feet and wheeled his body around to follow Seifer's pacing steps again. He was becoming increasingly impatient with himself.

Dangerously narrowed eyes focused on Seifer once more. The blonde's eyes remained trained on him, the eyes of an experienced warrior. He was sizing him up, breaking his technique down, and formulating a strategy in his head all with one glance.

Squall was still reeling when the blonde came at him again, but it was a juke. Seifer stopped short and retreated.

He was testing Squall.

" Don't listen to me, watch me!" Seifer bellowed.

He felt he was on fire, the sun beating down on his skin, and the fervor of the fight devouring his senses.

He trained his eyes on Seifer's limbs. And there it was, the briefest twitch of his fingers over his handle, and time seemed to suspend itself as he prepared for the attack.

And when Seifer came at him Squall returned with a well-aimed strike in response.

" Yes! Focus, focus!" Seifer hollered enthusiastically holding up a clenched fist.

The small gesture brought Squall to life. If it was night that killed him, then it was day that revived him. In the day he could keep his integrity intact.

* * *

Squall was slow to bathe.

He was in no hurry to meet with what awaited him. The blonde usually watched him bathe, but not tonight. Squall wanted to take advantage of this rare privacy. Exhaustion weighed him down; it was evident in how slowly he dragged the sponge across his skin.

His muscles ached with an all to familiar burn, begging for the sleep he would get so soon.

However it was not soon enough.

Lowering his head in disgrace his bangs fell over his half-lidded eyes. He sighed deeply, trembling in the process.

Nothing was as it should be. Everything was backwards.

Everyday Squall witnessed just how capable the blonde was at wielding his weapon. And everyday he became a bit more disillusioned about his freedom. His previous plan of learning the craft from the enemy and plotting to use that craft against him seemed hopeless, and in the least, eons away. Seifer was a soldier, a warrior at heart.

Squall did not stand a chance as he was now.

The doors to freedom were slowly closing.

Sliding back against the cold porcelain tub he let his heavy lids drape close.

There was one last way in which he could secure his freedom.

_Puppet_.

Everything he had left was riding on this façade.

All that was left of him was this façade.

He swallowed against the tightening in his throat.

He had unknowingly slapped another shackle onto his wrists.

He brought his palms up to his eyes and pressed, pressed until all was black. Black. Black. Black. But the thoughts remained.

It wasn't the actual 'punishment' that he dreaded, it was how his body reacted. He lifted his head abruptly and his nostrils flared at the image of himself conforming to Seifer's hand.

Bile rose in the back of his throat at the thought of how masterfully Seifer had trained his body to obey his touch, his command. Even in his absence he felt the ghost of hot hands stroking him, prodding him, kneading him.

And his manhood stirred to life.

Cringing, he stared bitterly between his legs, cursing his traitorous flesh. Hot tears welled up in his eyes and threatened to fall.

He understood now Nida's submission.

He understood now the look held in the eyes of slaves in the playground.

He understood now why Seifer was known around Galbadia as the master of slaves.

Through humiliation and depravation, through cunning and deceit, Seifer had made him a slave to his own body, and in turn, had become master over him.

For all the pretending, and tolerating, and fighting, it amounted to nothing.

In the end he too had a hand in his enslavement.

If only he were a stronger man.

If only Seifer were a weaker one.

Swallowing hard he recomposed himself. The water was cold and Seifer never left his side for too long. If he couldn't have his freedom or his pride he wanted to salvage what little dignity he had left.

Standing from the bath, the cold water rushing down his limbs, he held his chin high, internally repeating the mantra that kept him going through the endless night.

_Puppet, Puppet, Puppet. _

After abrasively drying off he stepped under the threshold of the bath chamber door. Leaning seductively against the bedpost, arms and legs crossed was his master. It took Squall every ounce of discipline to not look away when carnal eyes caught his. Those eyes racked up and down his naked body, stopping over his erect penis. Something in the blonde's expression changed, he couldn't pinpoint what, much less be sure he saw anything, but he felt a change.

His heart dropped.

Squall limply held out his arms, a common practice after bath time to accept his shackles and be led downstairs into the cellar where his nightly 'punishments' were given.

Seifer lowered his arms and smirked, " There will be none of that tonight. I have a treat for you instead."

Squall's arms slowly returned to his sides. His heart skipped a beat. With furrowed brows he looked to Seifer for clarity.

The blonde pushed himself off the bedpost with unnatural grace, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Stalking towards Squall he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall off his muscular arms and float onto the ground behind him.

Squall glanced at the discarded shirt, full well understanding what Seifer intended.

He swallowed thickly.

_Puppet. Puppet. Puppet. _

Once Seifer reached him, their noses mere inches apart he utterly huskily, " Tonight I show you how generous of a master I can be."

All that Squall registered was the overwhelming masculine smell that was Seifer before lips were on his, hard and rough.

It was a violent semblance of a kiss, which didn't last long as those hot lips moved down to his neck and shoulder. Seifer's hand entwined in Squall's damp locks and pulled roughly. A small sound that resembled a moan came from the back of Squall's throat at the rough treatment. Seifer's grip grew tighter at the mistaken sound.

_Play the puppet. Play the puppet. _

Squall's eyes fluttered at Seifer's feverish aggression. And the battle of morality versus survival ensued. His integrity gone, his sanity compromised, he was forced into this submissive role. This disgustingly submissive role that excited him!

He was sick.

Seifer was sick.

But if this were what it took to end his bondage, then he would endure it.

Seifer roughly detached himself from Squall and threw him over his shoulder, hauling him over to the gargantuan bed. He was thrown down so forcefully onto the mattress he bounced up an inch before he settled, however, Seifer was over him too quickly for it to matter.

The blonde gripped Squall's lightly tanned thighs with bruising force and wrenched them apart, settling between them.

His eyes glowed with a hint of madness to them. It was the look of a ravenous animal about to consume its prey.

Squall's veins were exploding with heat. He was throbbing, anticipating, panting, and dreading all at once.

He tried to will his heart and limbs still. He had to accept this. This was the key to his freedom. And yet his brain was screaming for it all to stop.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this!

There was too much respect; there was too much resentment.

Towering over him on all fours Seifer lunged for his lips again. The lips that remained slack. He couldn't bring himself to react accordingly in time. Sensing something amiss, Seifer brought his head up, slowly.

With reddened lips slightly agape he looked down into his slave's eyes.

The storm was gone. There was no fight. There was no anger. There was only a look of broken fear, a look well aware.

Wanting more than anything to believe his eyes deceived him, he sat back on his haunches, hoping the candlelight was playing tricks.

When Squall slowly sat up he saw clearly those gray eyes weighed down with exhaustion. Those pathetic eyes were now just a mocking reflection of cold steel.

Wide-eyed he shook his head in utter incredulity.

" You don't want this." He barely whispered.

Seifer caught the flicker of reluctance across dead eyes.

His stomach churned.

He couldn't believe he'd been so blind. He was so preoccupied with Squall's seemingly successful submission that he hadn't stopped to think of any of it as a pretense.

Squall watched with trepidation as Seifer grappled with the realization. He felt like a child about to be scorned. He had been found out. His ulterior motives revealed in a single glance. He was crumbling as the seconds dragged on. He had lost his last thread of hope to escape. There was nothing left for him. He would never be free…

Seifer pressed a clammy hand against his forehead as he staggered off the bed, clumsily. His eyes glazed and unfocused. He braced himself with both hands against his dresser.

He had been played as the sweet fool. He had been foolishly devoted to a boy who was desperate to escape him. Seifer thought he'd vomit right there. The thought of his fierce little lion so utterly broken that he would allow Seifer to rape him forced him into sensory overload.

He almost raped him…

Biting his lip against the surge of bile in the back of his throat, he waited it out to gather what little composure he had left. He stood and turned towards Squall. Their eyes locked. For the first time Seifer saw just how close to breaking Squall had become. The boy had come a long way since his first days in his manor. The boy before him now with the heavy eyes was not the boy Seifer wanted. This boy could not be tamed. This boy could not be trained. This boy's spirit would break, and he was far too precious to be another husk of a human.

The weight of his transgressions against Squall ran through him like a dagger through the heart.

He could not be held guilty for this boy's death.

This boy could not be his…

Brusquely turning away he yanked open a drawer in the dresser and frantically rummaged through it, pulling out a set of keys. His fingers trembled with every motion. Finding the key he wanted he walked to another dresser on the opposite side of the room and shoved the key inside the lock. Ripping it open he pulled out a bundle of clothing and stuffed it under his arm.

On unsteady legs he stalked over to the bed and threw the bundle under his arm at Squall. Squall recognized them as his clothing. Disillusioned and confounded he looked up at Seifer.

The blonde regarded him with a grimace of anger and disgust. Squall hadn't expected such vehement emotions to be directed towards him.

" Leave my house and never come back." Seifer hissed, his face contorting.

Squall blinked, all logic shutting down. He feared he had become mute from shock. He searched Seifer's face, trying to make sense of this otherworldly happening.

At Squall's innocently prying eyes tinged with the slightest bit of hope, he tore his face away. Gritting his teeth against the violent emotions that threatened to explode. His nostrils flared and his breathing picked up.

He could not take Squall's presence any longer.

This begrudging guilt was relentless.

" Get out…" Seifer hissed venomously.

He braced himself against the bed frame. His knuckles turned white in their hold of the wooden crutch.

Having seen enough Squall scrambled to pull his old breeches on. The feeling of clothing against his skin was utterly alien. He hadn't arrived with a shirt or any shoes, but this was more than enough decency.

He scurried to the door, pausing just inside of it and throwing a weary glance at Seifer. He expected this to all be a test. He expected Seifer to lunge at him any moment and punish him severely for thinking he could escape. But when he glanced back, Seifer was still hunched over the bed frame, hands holding the wood and head downcast.

It was surreal. As he descended the cold stairs he expected himself to wake up from this reverie. His breathing picked up, as did his speed. He tripped over his own legs, still reeling from disbelief. He trembled with ecstasy. A shaky smile began forming on his lips. When his feet touched the bottom of the staircase he let out an exasperated laugh.

He was free.

His cupped his naked wrists, feeling like he would float away into the sky from his weightlessness.

As he pushed the heavy manor doors ajar and caught his first glimpse of the outside as a free man, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

He walked through the door for the first and last time as a free man.

* * *

Rinoa had seen Squall walk through the manor doors clothed, and so immediately assumed that Seifer had released him. She hoped he had released him. She needed to be sure. With giddiness in her step she scampered through the servants' quarters, up the staircase and to her master's bedchamber.

Peeping her head cautiously around the corner she saw her proud master hunched over his bed with a white-knuckle grip on the frame. The muscles in his arms were taut and though it was very dim she swore he was trembling, perhaps that was the flicker of the candlelight playing tricks on her eyes.

Stepping into the door with light feet she folded her hands in front of her gown.

" Sir?" Rinoa called timidly to her master.

" Leave me be." He barked out in a raspy voice.

He sounded close to tears.

She swallowed hard and tried again," Sir, I saw your slave walk through the-"

" I said leave me be!" Seifer abrasively cut her off.

She flinched and immediately retreated from the doorway, rounding the corner, but none too far. She leaned her back against the closed part of his chamber door, her hands clasped over her heart. She ached to hold her master and console him. She loathed seeing him in this state. However, she couldn't help but bite back a smile as she thought of the source of her master's misery. She'd done it! She'd won! Her master was hers once again. All hers. This she could beam over in the morning, there was work yet to be done.

Grinning like a fool she raced back down the stairs and through the servants passageway. She grabbed a lantern before exiting through the side entrance of the manor and into the black night.

* * *

Squall deeply inhaled the smell of the night, the wind carrying the scent of the sea. He blindly followed that scent trusting it would lead him to the port, the port that could take him home.

Home.

He had nothing to his name. Not even shoes for his feet.

But he could not recall a time when he'd been more thankful for anything in his life.

Deciding to trail off the beaten path he rounded a corner between two buildings and ran right into a strong chest.

Stumbling backwards but catching himself quickly he muttered his apologies to the person, but upon looking up his eyes caught with eyes blacker than night.

And he froze.

Pale lips curled into a malicious smirk. " Well, well, well, if it isn't the little hellion." The guttural cords of the Count of Monte Cristo hummed.

Two figures emerged from the darkness on either side of the Count. The Count's smirk widened impossibly large. Gloved hands flexed, the leather creaking and knuckles popping.

Squall staggered backwards in panic, his hands sliding over the narrow alley walls, searching for support. He turned on his heels to run, but two pairs of rough hands were on him, dragging him down and restraining him. He thrashed wildly on the beaten cobblestone. A hand yanked his head back by his hair; a knee thrust itself in his back. He yelled for help but a hand shoved a gag down his throat. He choked against it, spewing up hot bile. One of the goons picked his head up further by his hair and the other punched him in the face then slammed his head onto the pavement.

His screams were muffled in the gag. His cheek throbbed with excruciatingly sharp pain. He felt the trickle of hot blood soak into the gag and spill over his chin.

" Easy boys. Don't rough him up too much now. That pleasure is solely mine." The Count chuckled sinisterly.

Squall screwed his eyes shut and a strangled sob escaped him. In that moment he wished for death. From the servitude of one man's hands to another was Hyne's cruel irony.

The goons roughly picked him up from the ground once they had tied his arms ad legs behind his back.

Again from the darkness beside the Count emerged another figure, a much smaller one this time. One with raven hair and a heart shaped face.

Rinoa.

She meekly treaded her way to the Count's side, her eyes catching Squall's. She regarded him wearily.

" Good Evening Miss Heartily. A job well done. I thank you deeply for your cooperation." The Count chuckled, looking down at Rinoa with haughty amusement. " And as per agreement. Here is your pay." Digging into his coat pocket he pulled out a pouch that clinked and clanged as he dropped it into her open palms.

She opened the bag with nimble fingers and after seeing the glimmering contents snapped her head up with a greedy grin. The Count grinned in response.

Squall's eyes went wide.

This he couldn't fathom.

He'd been played and bartered like cattle!

Squall jerked in the hands that held him steady and barked beneath his gag. Rinoa snapped her head over at Squall, her grin falling into a frown. And though in her eyes there was resentment, she was a coward inching away from the consequences of her decisions. The goon punched Squall in the face again. This time it sent him reeling into unconsciousness. But not before he witnessed Rinoa slip back into the night like the snake she was and the Count's last words.

" Give my best regards to your master."

* * *

**TBC…**

Oh I know I'm evil aren't I? Haha! I've been waiting to reveal this forever!

As always I really appreciate any feedback. I'm trying to improve my writing abilities so if anyone has a real critique for me I'm all ears! Don't be shy! Anyone who has read my reviews knows that I am not shy with them! Constructive criticism only please though! Thank you again all my beloved readers!


	14. The Humbling River

A/N: Just a quick note about Rinoa's character. I've gotten quite a few reviews concerned about her bashing. First in foremost, I don't consider what I've written to qualify as bashing. Case in point, in the game Seifer throws Rinoa to Adel. Arguably this is a Seifer bashing scene, but no one thinks ill of the games' manufacturers. Why? Because sometimes people act irrationally or erratically when their emotions get the better of them. It's very realistic. Great people make cowardly decisions in life. I'm sorry if anyone is unhappy with my choices in this story concerning her. If this were purely for bashing purposes I never would have built on her character. That would be an effective waste of my time.

* * *

Master of Slaves

Chapter 14: The Humbling River

* * *

Despondent doe eyes stared blankly at nothing, hands nervously wringing her apron. She sat with soiled heart and soiled apron.

" Out!"

She shut her eyes against the tormented voice. Her ears saw the silver tray launch and clatter on the tiled floors and the scampering feet of frightened servants.

And tormented became tormentor.

It seemed there was nothing that could pacify her master.

No, it seemed there was nothing _she_ could do to pacify her master.

Amidst the scurrying of the servants in the house she heard the familiar voice of the head servant greeting a guest in the foyer.

"Sir thank you for coming." The old woman uttered, voice unsteady.

Rinoa turned slowly with glossy eyes to see the elegant sway of brown hair.

" Not at all my dear, what seems to be the problem with the young master?"

She would have recognized the sensual drawl of the young Kinneas anywhere.

" I cannot get him to eat! I've even made his favorite dishes two days in a row! He just sits in the dark all day brooding!" The old servants' matronly voice squabbled. Her jowls trembling in her earnestness.

" I see." The purple-eyed man muttered distantly as he folded his arms in contemplation. Then, " Where's the slave boy?"

" Gone. He released him days ago. You don't think this has something to do with him do ya?" She carried on, her arms waving emphatically.

Rinoa scoffed bitterly to herself, looking away. She had to swallow hard against the threatening tears.

With folded arms he tapped his pointer finger atop the bridge of his nose, " I think it may my dear."

" If he wants another slave can you not just bring him another?" The old woman suggested with zeal in her eyes.

Irvine breathed a knowing laugh, " I don't think that's the issue. Thank you Sirrah, I'll take it from here." He picked up her hand and placed his on top with a slight bow before walking off toward the master's parlor.

Rinoa quickly got to her feet, purpose in her strides. She had heard enough. Though it pained her to think that Irvine could do more for her master than she could, it also gave her hope. Hope that someone else could affect her master as deeply as the rebellious slave boy did.

She disappeared into the servants quarters as Irvine's boots stopped in the threshold of her master's parlor. She was nothing more than an apparition in the dark now.

Purple eyes strained to adjust to the pervading darkness of the parlor. And once they did, they softened at the desolate sight they beheld.

Irvine breathed a heavy sigh and leaned his shoulder against the door frame. It was in bad taste to brood, and to brood over the boy.

" So the cat got out huh?" Irvine drawled in his usual sarcastic undertone, yet his face betrayed none of his humor.

Morbid green eyes awakened from their reverie and looked up at Irvine. And Goliath fell from his throne.

He took a moment to respond. He simply stared with sharpened eyelids as if trying to cut through the gloom and into Irvine's soul. But then that faded too.

" Who invited you in?" His voice lacked all conviction.

The corners of his eyes seemed to be drooping downwards. And there was such bleakness in them that Irvine found himself ensnared in that same gloom.

Irvine took a tentative step into the parlor, waiting, watching. However, Seifer just sunk further into his seat and bowed his head as if his neck could no longer support him.

" I didn't think I needed an invitation." Irvine spoke softly his eyes trained on Seifer.

He took a seat on the sofa across from Seifer. He looked frail in the dim light. Even the light looked as if it lay limp across the blonde's sagging shoulders.

Irvine found his mouth had gone dry.

" Sirrah says you won't eat."

Seifer snorted bitterly, " I eat."

" She says you sit in the dark all day."

" She isn't with me all day."

Irvine cast his friend a long, hard look. He looked aged, the shadows making home in every crease and crevasse along his face.

And then finally he could keep silent no more, " Why'd you let him go?"

It was barely a whisper but it sounded a cacophony to the blonde's ears. Irvine could see the silent battle waging, from the sag of his eyes, to the furrow of his brow, and the crease of his forehead. And as his features melted from pride to prostration an inkling of clarity twinkled in his darkened eyes.

The look alone said enough. Irvine wished he would not speak.

" I couldn't have him." Dry lips moved on their own accord, not recognizing the words yet understanding all too well what was said.

How the mighty have fallen.

Restless fingers swept across Seifer's forehead. They trembled.

" Is he worth losing your religion to?" But those purple eyes asked so much more.

Eyes caught his, a green that had started to fade.

Irvine's chest felt heavy as he heard the sorrow-laden sigh of his companion. He felt he was looking at a stranger. He wanted reprieve from the stiff sorrow just as much as Seifer did.

" I have something that will ease your pain."

Bony fingers removed a long and thin wooden stick from the inside of his coat and laid it on the table.

Seifer paid him no heed.

He removed a vile of black oil resembling tar and poured the sickly sweat substance into a metal bowl protruding from the stick.

Seifer paid him no heed.

He pulled out a tinderbox from his pocket and sparked a flame that lit the tar in the metal bowl. It sizzled sharply. Watching his friend he placed the end of the pipe in his mouth and inhaled, filling his lungs with smoke.

Within minutes the sweat smelling smoke pervaded the air and Seifer had no choice but to pay his friend heed.

Opening his mouth a cloud of billowing gray spiraled towards the window and danced above their heads in twisted halos.

Irvine held the pipe out for Seifer.

Seifer looked between the pipe and Irvine with something akin to disapproval, but there was too much despair glossing his eyes to really judge. Irvine wanted to gouge the sadness from his eyes. He gestured more firmly for Seifer to grab the pipe.

" Come on." Little wisps of smoke escaped the cavity of his mouth as he spoke.

It smelled of sweet temptation; it whispered promises of respite. That was all he needed to yield to the magic of the poppy.

His body tingled as the wisps of magic coursed through his body with a purpose. His throat burned, sweet Hyne it burned. It punished his throat but he welcomed it, knowing it would heal him soon enough. He breathed it in until tendrils of gray were slipping through his nostrils. He released it in a slow, shaky breath. His eyelids slide shut and his limps instantly grew numb. The pipe dangled loosely in his open palm.

Irvine bent over and retrieved the pipe. He watched the transformation in Seifer's body as he slipped into comfortable numbness. But his eyes were still plagued.

Irvine took a deep drag and another cloud of smoke mingled in the air above their heads.

" You know there's an old Galbadian hymn." Irvine started to hum in a voice deepened with wisdom…

_Nature, nurture, heaven and home. _

_Sum of all and by them driven  
To conquer every mountain shown  
But have never crossed the river_

Seifer's bleak eyes shifted ever so slightly towards Irvine as the words fell from his lips and burrowed their way into his heavy heart.

_Braved the forest braved the stone  
Braved the icy winds and fire  
Braved and beat them on my own  
Yet I'm helpless by the river_

Time seemed to still, suspend over their heads in clouds of smoke.

* * *

_Angel, angel what have I done?  
I've faced the quakes the wind, the fire  
I've conquered country, crown, and throne  
Why can't I cross this river?_

Squall was forcefully thrown into a cellar in the Count's manor. The stone floor scraped his shoulder and thigh.

The light patter of the Count's footsteps stilled a few feet behind him.

" Stand up." The Count's words slithered off his tongue.

Squall lay there awkwardly tethered hand and foot feeling the floor cold and damp against his cheek.

" I said stand boy. " The Count ground his jaw as he spoke.

Squall lay there, trying to disappear. He felt eyes on him and lifted his heavy head. He meet with the wide unblinking eyes of a boy tied up like him. He heard the heavy footsteps of the lackey's approach, he felt them grip his upper arms with bruising force and hoist him to his feet, but he could not look away from those glossy brown eyes.

It had been so long since he had seen eyes like that.

Eyes that glistening in song, a song that serenaded him, implored him, begged him.

They begged him to obey; they begged for his safety.

" Strip him." The command cut through the thick air into his consciousness.

He snapped his neck around, his hair swinging wildly about his face. The Count caught the look and knew he had recaptured the boy's interest. He smiled wickedly, proudly. Squall closed his eyes against the sound of his breeches being ripped from his body. The cool air rushed up his legs with invisible hands and he shivered. He felt utterly vulnerable. Never had be felt so naked before, not even in the presence of Seifer…

He would not think of that. He could not. It was too much too quickly. Being transferred from hand to hand, master-to-master, all within moments of one another. So instead he concentrated on everything else, anything else but those thoughts.

He heard the crunching of loose morsels of gravel under the Count's boots as he advanced, slowly, calculatingly towards him.

His muscles tensed under the calloused hands of the goons.

A hot vile breath was on his face. It made his hairs stand on edge.

He wanted to continue ignoring, wanted to keep his eyes screwed shut, but his pride, what minuscule amount still existed, implored him to open them.

He opened them right into the black depths of a soulless shell. Squall was looking into nothing, just black, never-ending black.

The Count's fingers ghosted his cheek, lightly, and his soulless eyes followed. His fingers grew hungry and he cupped his chin with a vice grip and smashed his lips against Squall's.

Wide-eyed Squall tore away, violently taking a piece of the Count's lip with him. Nausea churned in the pit of his stomach, threatening to emerge at any second. He felt sick and violated.

The Count hissed as he pulled away, gingerly touching his fingers to his lip. Upon seeing the smear of red on his fingers his eyes narrowed and he smiled something wicked.

" You will be punished for that." He grinned, his lips painted scarlet with blood, " But not now, I prefer an audience."

He boldly advanced Squall again, stopping a breath away from his face, " In the playground."

A rage he had long thought had been extinguished ignited in his veins. He spat in the Count's face. He spat out his disgust, the Count's vile tasting blood that poisoned his mouth, the saliva that burned his lips. It landed right under the Count's black eyes and slide down his face, mingling with his blood-smeared smile.

He let out a cruel semblance of a laugh and licked the spit away.

" I will make you the coveted play thing of all the lords and ladies in the land."

Then with a swift fist he gripped Squall's jaw in his hand and squeezed. Squall fought back a shout as the Count maimed him through a pressure point.

" But first, we shall see just what you are capable of. On your knees." The Count hissed.

Squall fought to keep standing straight but he was forcibly brought to his knees. He wheezed through crushed cheeks. The veins in his neck became pronounced as he trembled with exertion.

"Edmond!" A foreign voice sliced through the hostility.

The Count stopped. Everything stopped. A cold chill seemed to slither from the Count's hand into Squall's body. His eyes smoldered. Those black abysses dilated and Squall saw the faintest traces of brown around the edges of his pupils. The hand that held his face captive started trembling uncontrollably as his eyes dilated from black to brown then black again. Finally the Count released Squall as if his face burned his hand. His fingers tangled in his hair and he stumbled backwards howling in pain. The two lackeys ran for the exit and did not dare look back.

" You! How dare you!" He cursed, his voice raspy.

He pointed at the boy with the captivating brown eyes. And just like that the Count was upon him, whip in hand and slashed his exposed flesh vehemently.

He whipped him, whipped him, and whipped him until the whip had stolen his voice to cry. The Count stood there gasping for air, blood dripping from the tail of his whip. He looked down at the sound of it dripping onto the stone floor with wide eyes, then back at the boy who stood slumped against his bindings. He dropped the whip as if he was just now witnessing his atrocities, as if he had been possessed by something else. He ran from the boy. He ran with fear in his brown eyes. He ran away.

Squall lay painfully on his bruised shoulder. He was reeling. His skin shimmered in sheens of cold sweat. Through matted bangs he looked up at his savior. The boy's dead weight dangled by his arms, it seemed his arms would pop out of their sockets at any moment. His body adorned with fresh welts. They too glistened under the candlelight. A drop of sweat rolled down the bridge of Squall's nose and down his parted lips. It tasted like a tear.

" Thank you." Squall breathed, it sounded like the whisper of a ghost in the vacant chamber.

The boy lifted his head. His lips, coated with snot from his running nose and tears from his red-rimmed eyes, curled into a small smile. Not the sadistic type of smile one would expect from a boy who had just been beaten within an inch of his skin, but a genuine smile.

Squall felt he was in the graces of a martyr. The saving graces.

He started inching his way closer to the boy's side, dragging his naked body like a worm on the ground. The stone peeled some of the skin of his shoulder, neck and side but it seemed inconsequential compared to the deeds of the martyr boy.

As Squall crept closer the martyr boy sniffled and whipped the snot from his nose on his bare upper arm.

With some effort Squall sat up and propped his back against the cobble stonewall next to the boy. He grimaced as his shoulder was pulled back at an awkward angles from his hands being tethered behind his back. He slumped forward to take the pressure away and cocked his head towards the boy whose brilliant brown eyes were already watching him.

" Why did you do that?" Squall asked of the boy.

" It's painful to watch others receive such a disservice." His voice had a masculine quality to it that his physical appearance lacked.

He was young, too young for these conditions. His face lacked the hard lines of age and experience that are commonly seen in slaves. He still had a boyish charm to his features. The faded scars and welts that protruded from his body told a different story though. It made Squall frown.

" What of yourself?" Squall posed firmly, his eyes lighting up passionately.

The boy emitted a small soundless chuckle and looked down at his dilapidated state. For moments he merely looked down at himself, or maybe at nothing at all. It was clear Squall would receive no answer either way.

" Who is Edmond?" Squall tentatively pressed.

He did not want the boy to stop talking. It was his only consolation down here in the bleak chamber of the Count. It was the only thing to take his mind off of…

The boy picked his head up slowly his lips drawn into a stern line, " Edmond was the man the Count was before he sold his soul to the devil."

Squall's brows knit together in question, but the boy continued despite.

" Rumor has it that the Count was falsely imprisoned for a crime in Chateau D'lf for thirteen years."

" Chateau D'lf? I've never heard of it." Squall spoke smoothly though he butchered the pronunciation of the place.

The boy veered his neck to look at Squall.

" That was the name it held during the reign of Adel the Great. You might know it now as D-District Prison."

Squall wondered again at this boy's supposed age.

" What were his crimes?"

" Treason." The boy answered abruptly. " Yet it remains as to if he was actually guilty. Guilty or not though, thirteen years there would make anyone go mad." He chuckled humorlessly, his eyes dropping away from Squall again.

Squall stared at him for a moment, deliberating, " You speak as if on his behalf."

" I do." Those brown eyes met firmly with his.

" Why?"

" Because a great disservice has been done to that man. I mourn for Edmond Dantes." He trailed off at Edmond's name.

Something flickered within his bright eyes and Squall watched as he battled with some memory, some epiphany perhaps before he began again.

" Edmond had a lover named Fernand Mondego. They were both sailors away at sea. Edmond quickly moved up in the ranks, from first mate to captain, while Fernand got no recognition. Fernand should have been happy but competition ran fierce between those two. Crazed with jealousy Fernand exposed a secret of Edmond's that would forever ruin him. It involved politics, insignificant really, but that landed him in Chateau D'lf. It was in Chateau D'lf that Edmond learned the love of hate. One can only imagine that things he thought up, alone. When he was finally reunited with his old lover, he murdered him. He has since been overwrought with grief." As he ended the tale the corners of his eyes seemed to sag.

Though his face was unreadable Squall was brooding over this tale. Suddenly the man who had only soulless black eyes now became human. Squall tried to imagine such unspeakable betrayal. Even through the hatred he harbored for his lover, he still loved him more than anything. If he hadn't the monster known as the Count would not exist.

" And who are you to know all of this?" Squall questioned, his eyes shining with genuine curiosity.

The boy smiled easily, " My name is Albert. Fernand Mondego was my father. The Count keeps me as a sort of poetic justice. I'm the last piece of Fernand that still lives."

Squall's heart thudded wildly in his chest. It was demented; it was sick. However, he felt the hatred he harbored dwindle into pity.

He pitied the Count of Monte Cristo. The savage creature was really just a broken man.

Albert watched Squall slip into a pensive state of silence.

" Rest assured tonight." Albert offered.

Squall looked up with furrowed brows.

The look made Albert's heart sink in his chest.

He answered softly with a rueful half smile, " he won't take you to the playground until tomorrow evening."

Dread quickly kindled through Squall's being. He fought back the bitter bile that had crept into the back of his throat.

" Do not fear him tomorrow." The advice was a command. " I will be with you."

Squall glanced over at Albert. The boy had saved his hind once already and he was positive that his martyrdom would not save him tomorrow.

No one could.

* * *

Deep within the confines of the Count's chambers a solemn sound sent the night phantoms cowering within their shadow temples.

It was a sound so disturbing the devil herself fell to her knees and wept.

The husk of the man that was Edmond Dantes howled into his trembling hands, his shoulder convulsing and his palms damp.

He wept so hard tears of blood fell. They littered the wooden desk he sat hunched over. In his wet hands he held a tiny artifact. A piece of black thread tied into a small circle.

It was a ring. The ring Fernand had made for him. They promised each other real rings once they became first mates. He buried Fernand with his silver band. Edmond never received his ring…

* * *

Rinoa stood slumped under the threshold of Seifer's parlor. The sun had slept and awakened since Irvine's visit and yet the young Master had done nothing. She had long thought he had turned to stone.

He looked on with eyes that did not see. He listened with ears that did not hear. He felt with heart that did not beat, not for anyone but the slave boy.

If only he would realize that she ached for him as he ached for the boy.

Cruel Hyne, she thought bitterly, who could not have birthed her in class any lower or higher to appease her soul but had to throw her in the midst of two worlds where she belonged to none.

She wanted to belong. She wanted to belong to her young master.

" What would please you my lord?" She begged in the softest voice that floated like a feather to her master's deaf ears.

Slowly he craned his neck to look at her. His glazed eyes did not see her. He did not see her disheveled raven tresses splayed out like ribbons across her face. He did not notice the transparent texture of her skin or the dark circles weighing down her big doe eyes.

He answered with silence.

She could bear it no more! She fell to her knees gracelessly and pressed her clammy forehead to the wooden floors.

" I give myself to you then. It is the only way I can show you how much I truly care." She sobbed her voice breaking pathetically.

It took a moment but the master's eyes focused fully on the display before him. He looked on aghast.

" Have you lost your mind?" He chastised.

Rinoa whimpered blissfully. It was the first time he had spoken like his old self in days! She wiped at her tears furiously, flinging her head up.

" Make me your slave. Have me! Body and soul. Train me, beat me, punish me, do whatever you will with me." She cried, clinging to his hands.

" Stop this madness!" He demanded rising from his seat, shoving her hands away from him.

" Please, you are my lord and master!" Rinoa implored wringing her trembling hands together.

" This is not the life you want for yourself." He took a step away from her.

Her feverish exhibition of fervor frightened him. He could not comprehend her wishes or her motivations.

" It is! I have wanted you for so long! Take me or not, I am but a humble servant girl, however I want nothing more than to serve you for the rest of my life." She groveled, scooting closer to him on her knees, her hands still pressed together in mock prayer.

His brows furrowed even deeper and his eyes regained their sharp edge at her confession.

All these years and he never realized her love for him. He had never cared enough to notice. It was not guilt that made him pity her but his obligation as her master to be observant of her health. This he had not done.

" Then be as you have been, a servant in my home." He spoke in a level and stern voice then began to stride past her.

She clawed at his shirt in profound desperation.

" You would deny me servitude to you? Even as I beg for it?" Her voice quivered along with her watery eyes.

He glared at her sternly for her inappropriate behavior but was in no mood to admonish her.

" I don't take slaves anymore." He replied brusquely as he shrugged her off.

She did not catch his eyes soften at the statement, but she knew he was thinking of Squall.

" Why must you pine after a boy who despises you?" Her voice broke into shrieks of fanaticism.

He whirled around on his heels, his eyes dark," You know not what you speak." His voice dangerously low.

" It was plain as day! You finally saw it! That's why you got rid of him!"

" Hold your tongue!" He hissed.

" He has ruined you!"

" It is I who ruined him!" Spit flung from his vile tongue as he screamed, the veins pulsating from his crimson forehead.

She cowered in silence her lips quavering and the tears spilling from her red-rimmed eyes. Never in all her years of service to the Almasy family had she witnessed him lose it as he had right then.

Seifer heaved from exertion. He ran a shaky hand through his hair frantically trying to quell his nerves.

That was all the convincing she needed. She had her answer.

Still on her knees, her hair thrown wildly across her face she blubbered, " Either way you're both ruined now. And if he wasn't, the Count shall remedy that."

He had not heard her entire admission but hearing the Count's name was enough to make his blood freeze thrice times over.

" What did you say?" He wheeled around on his heels, hand still lingering on the back of his neck.

His eyes were wild, utterly alive. The animal inside him had awakened.

Mouth agape she snapped her neck up. Her eyes glimmered with guilt. She could not stand looking into his eyes, eyes she knew she deceived with her secrecy.

" Rest in peace. His ruin won't be by your hands, but of the Count's." She whispered quietly as it pained her to speak the words at all.

Seifer grabbed her shoulders and shook her violently, " How do you know this?"

Tears sprang freely and soundlessly from her guilty eyes.

" It's the talk in the town. The Count plans to make spectacle of him at the playground." She forced out as her neck snapped back and forth like a spineless puppet.

Seifer's eyes widened and his pupils dilated, " Did you plan to keep this hidden from me? Did you think I wouldn't want to know this information!" He rasped out cruelly.

Rinoa offered him no answer but to look away in shame.

He pushed away from her and she fell down forcefully onto her side, her hair wiping around.

She peeked through her hair up at her master in disbelief.

He towered over her, the menacing master he was with not the slightest shred of remorse.

" I'll deal with you when I return." He promised in controlled rage.

Just like that she was beside herself again. The boy made him alive. The boy made him feel. She would never be that boy.

" When you return, I'll be gone." A single tear strolled down her cheek.

* * *

There had been very few times in Seifer's life where he had not thought and weighed every decision through. Now, he simply reacted. He acted on the basest of human levels, primal instinct.

Urgency filled his limbs, started as a quiver in the base of his spine and exploded in his chest. He sprinted through the vast corridors of his manor his boots skidding and screeching upon the different textured floors. Throwing the doors of his weaponry room open he ripped his gunblade Hyperion off its mount on the wall. The place setting ripped out with it throwing up dust and debris as the wall particles fell to the ground. He buckled the holster around his waist and sheathed Hyperion.

All thought went by like a whirlwind, like a violent squall had besieged the seas of his mind. He could think of nothing, no logic, no consequence, no action, nothing but Squall. The image of the boy burned from his mind into his retinas, blurring his vision and blinding him from all else.

Seifer burst through the threshold of his manor and the cold night wind lashed against his heated flesh. He ran down the cobblestone streets of the market, his footsteps clopping heavily against the wet pavement. His thighs burned and his lungs wanted to quit him, but he would not let them. He was master now. He was taking back control.

Though the revelation may have come too late, he hoped there was still time.

He prayed to Hyne that it was not too late.

And as he ran an old hymn echoed in the recesses of his mind.

_Pay no mind to the battles you've won  
It'll take a lot more than rage and muscle  
Open your heart and hands my son  
Or you'll never make it over the river  
It'll take a lot more that words and swords  
A whole lot more than riches and muscle  
The hands of the many must join as one  
And together we'll cross the river_

_

* * *

_

TBC…

Hey guy's I'm really sorry about the long wait! It has taken me forever to find time to work on fanfiction these days. I promised I would finish the story and I will you gotta have faith in me!

I am feeling kinda rusty guys, tell me what you think! As always I appreciate all criticism and compliments!

Thank you to everyone who sent me nice messages asking me to continue. It does give me motivation!


	15. The Distance Between Two Points

**Master of Slaves**

By**: Baby Chiba**

Chapter 15**: The Distance Between Two Points **

Run. Run. Run.

Primordial instincts possessed his limbs.

Run. Run Run.

Try as he may, he could not surmount to the Godlike grace that he so desired. He was a mere mortal struggling with the limits set by his muscles. He suffered the burning in his thighs, the tightening of his lungs, and the sinking of his heart.

As he breached the gaping mouth of the marketplace the masses of bodies parted as they saw his bulking form. He appeared predator in the streets, illuminated by fading light, but he felt like a prey, desperately navigating in this labyrinth of darkness.

The wind played tricks upon his mind as it burned his ears. He heard the cruel cracking of a whip. He saw the black leather slapping Squall's skin. He imagined the vibrant crimson welts bejeweling and rising to meet the hand that dealt them. He pictured the grotesque travesty of entertainment twisting Squall's face as he hung from his arms, helpless to hide himself from the parasitic eyes of the audience. He envisioned those lucid eyes contorted with panic as he endured his torments with screams that died on his tongue.

Seifer was wild from the images his mind conjured. He did nothing to suppress them. As Squall suffered, he desired to suffer.

He clenched his jaw and ran faster.

He was overwhelmed with images of slaves writhing in torment by his own hand. Suddenly his hand dealt the same atrocities the Count did. Every act of discipline he had dealt transformed into a crime against humanity.

Shackling Squall in his cellar.

Disrobing him and chaining him in his parlor.

Paddling him, touching him, kissing him!

They were all atrocities!

His body lurched violently with feverish need to dispel the contents of his stomach. His gunblade sheath clanked against the ground. He screwed his eyes shut as every rebellious internal organ worked together to push the bile from his cavity. The sour smell rose hot from the damp cobblestone street. He cringed as his body settled from the brutal onslaught. How he had ever deluded himself into believing that his 'disciplinary' actions were innocent?

He was no better than the Count.

But he continued to run. It was even more a reason to right the wrong. His running became more than just the act of atonement. Seifer felt he was running from his forlorn past. He had no choice but to run. He had to breech the distance between two points.

Squall reeled back and fell onto the wooden platform as the Count delivered a vicious slap. He cringed as he fell upon his dislocated shoulder. His wrists tethered in front of him prevented him from catching himself as he fell. His head hung over the sharp edge of the scaffold. His eyes sought refuge from the crowds that swarmed like moths around a flame. He refused to meet their empty eyes as if putting them out of sight left them out of mind. However, his eyes caught with Albert's. The boy was chained and kneeling below the side of the scaffolding. His eyes held enough pity for everyone in the playground. Albert's eyes foretold of his imminent torture.

He wasn't given the time to dwell. The Count kicked the bottoms of his naked feet. The veins in his neck bulged as he strained to keep the Count from hearing his pain. A trail of blood trickled from between his clenched teeth. Squall did not know if it was from biting his tongue or from the countless blows the Count delivered.

The extension of the rope that tethered his wrists together was yanked and he was forced to stumble to his knees and obey the twine master. Squall scurried upon his bruised knees as quickly as he could, but the Count pulled too rigorously and he fell upon his chin, ass in the air for all to gawk at.

" Get up!" The Count laughed caustically.

Those dark eyes were incapable of feeling any emotion on a human spectrum save for vengeance.

" Try a stunt like that again!" The Count was seething, ravenous with hunger.

The crowd laughed wildly at the spectacle. None of them held a distinguishable voice, they all just melded together into a distorted semblance of sound. The sound still burned his ears. In his periphery he saw mouths contorted in abstract geometrical shapes, the flickering light from the torches warping their images into something menacing. They all fed the Count's hunger, the endless hole that grew with the emptiness inside him.

The Count slapped him again and he fell to his side, repeating the same vicious cycle. He would have scrambled to his feet and fought, however the Count had rendered him helpless. From trying to escape earlier the Count had whipped the bottoms of his feet so severely that there was barely a shred of flesh left. He had maimed him; he had incapacitated him. Now he was trapped, a spectacle on this scaffolding for all to bear witness. He thought of Nida and the first time he had seen him on this very scaffold. The events of that day were but a blurb of memories from eons ago. His thoughts drifted to Seifer. Seifer had rescued Nida that day, the day he hung, a victim of the Count's maliciousness. He stopped the progression of thought at that. He would not fantasize of Seifer, a slave trainer in his own right, rescuing him like something from a fairy tale. Seifer had released him; he had no reason to come back for him. Seifer's former words surged forth from the confines of his mind.

_You've never seen lands like these before. Galbadia is cruel. You wouldn't last out here. _

So this is what he had meant. Seifer had known what awaited Squall beyond his manor walls.

_I never put you on display, nor will I ever…_

Squall trembled with the urge to laugh, but his stomach twisted with the urge to vomit. Did Seifer think he was doing him a service by keeping him captive?

_Galbadia is cruel._

Yes, yes it was. An imperial land where the definition is captivity is synonymous with charity.

" Now ladies and gentlemen, the spectacle you've all been eagerly awaiting! Prepare to witness the instant domestication of a severely disobedient slave. Behold how the whip delivers him!" The Count's deep voice roared over the cheering crowds.

Squall stifled a howl into the earthy smelling wood, but was given no time to wallow as he was just as soon hoisted into the air by the pulley system the Count devised. He was stretched out and exposed, the weight of his body felt in his arms. Hanging suspended from his wrists and looking out into the sea of hungry heads he knew what it was to be a true martyr.

It was hard to breathe with his arms so high over his head. He slowly spun in the air, round and round. As he came full circle he saw the Count disrobing. He shed his heavy coat, withdrew his arms from his sleeves and folded the shirt over his waist. Then with heavy strides he approached Squall, the thick black whip in hand. Squall tried to swallow but his throat was dry. The whites of the Count's eyes seemed to glow against the blackness centered there. The Count pressed himself against Squall's taut body. His eyes traced a line that his fingers followed down the side of his face, the corner of his lips, his chest, then grabbed his penis and squeezed with a brutal fist.

" Now the real fun begins my lovely. I will have you screaming in exquisite agony. You will accept me as your master." The Count breathed through teeth clenched in excitement.

Squall would have heaved all over the Count had he anything in his system. Despite himself he knew his limbs were trembling. The Count chuckled bitterly and licked a trail from his puckering nipple to his neck. It was then he felt the Count's erection pressing into his thigh. Squall snapped his neck to one side. His lips quivered and he screwed his eyes shut. He felt a hot tear hit his cheek. He had lost his faith in Hyne.

The Count brought the whip above his head. The crowd's response told Squall his actions. Squall braced himself. He wished himself dead. The humiliation was far worse than the pain would be.

The pain was secondary, but it was still very real and very threatening.

He heard the whip sail through the air. His muscles clenched as well as his eyes in anticipation for the blow. He heard it, a clanking of metal. It sounded off, but he was waiting, waiting for the pain. And… he fell to his knees onto the scaffolding. The rope from the pulley fell upon his head. His eyes shot open.

Time crept across his eyes, soundlessly, slowly.

The glint of a blade blinded his eyes as it lifted into the air from cutting his ropes and aimed towards the Count's neck. He recognized those fluid moves, the way tendons flexed under sun-kissed skin as it wielded the blade.

Seifer.

Then time caught up with him, and with mouth agape he pushed himself away from the scaffolding center, tugging vigorously at his bindings. But just as he reached the scaffolding edge, hands grabbed at him. He whipped his head around as far back as it would go, the Count' lackey's…

Seifer's warrior trained periphery also caught this. One eye trained on the blade prodding the Count's neck, the other on Squall.

"Let him go." There was such a feral quality to Seifer's voice that it made the hairs on Squall's arms rise.

The Count, with his chin tilted up from the blade, quirked a bitter smirk, his arms raised at his sides, the whip at his feet.

"You heard him, release the boy." He spoke in a deceptively steady voice.

His black eyes never left Seifer's.

The lackey's were slow to release Squall's arms, but once they did, Squall was quick to untangle his wrists from his bindings, Albert at his side.

The corner of the Count's mouth twitched into a semblance of a smile, "Come to admire my handiwork?"

Seifer pushed the edge of his blade into the Count's larynx, causing a gurgling of sound to spill from his lips.

Seifer made no pretense about why he was there. Spotting the drop of blood that ran down the Count's neck, he became incensed. He wanted more. He wanted to paint the scaffolding with the Count's blood. His nostrils flared as the image of Squall strung up and bruised came to mind.

"You have offended me for the last time, Count." The raspy words barely escaped Seifer's closing throat.

The Count's eyes flashed from black to brown.

"No." Albert whispered, eyes wide.

Squall snapped his neck up from working his bindings at Albert's plea. He registered Seifer's body language. He knew what carnage was about to unfold. He wanted nothing more than to see the Count's head roll, and… he did not know why he did what he did.

"Seifer! Don't!" The cry cut through Seifer's focus.

In a flurry of brain activity Seifer registered the sound, weighed out the demand against his own desires.

Squall watched Seifer's fingers twitch against the handle of his blade, and then he tore away with an exasperated growl. Face twisted in distress his eyes met Squall's, and he was beside himself. Squall was the reason he was here, not the Count. Turning his back on his bloodlust, he moved to help Squall out of his twine bindings. Squall watched, his eyes unbelieving of what was happening. He knew this was a milestone between Seifer and himself. The day the Master walked away from bloodlust, the bloodlust he knew Seifer craved more than anything at this moment. Though, perhaps not as much as his slave's safety… The blonde's descent was interrupted by a shrill cry from behind him. Seifer halted abruptly, teeth bared and face contorted. His hand went to his side and pulled away the color of sanguine.

The Count stood behind Seifer, bloodied knife in hand, smirking maniacally, " Come now Seifer, you aren't really going to refuse me this battle for the boy."

In that moment Albert had undone the last of Squall's bindings, " you're free."

With that Seifer dove down and gripped Squall's forearm, hoisting him to his battered feet.

"Run." Seifer commanded as he sprinted off the stage, a strong hold still on Squall.

A burst of adrenaline ravaged his body as his tender feet collided against the hard ground. It was enough to allow him mobility, past the swarms of intrusive eyes, past the shrieking voices, past the immorality of the playground.

With Seifer's hold still on his wrist, Squall blindly followed the flutter of the trench coat in front of him, two vagrants escaping into the solitude of night. Squall could hear cries behind them, distorted from the rush of the wind against his ears. He did not dare turn around.

They rounded a corner, through an alley, another corner, and another alley. Each step further into the labyrinth sent a fire up the sole's of Squall's feet. Overwhelmed by his injuries, Squall ungainly lost his footing, pulling Seifer with him and slammed into the jagged wall next to him. Seifer regained composure just as Squall curled up and violently emptied his stomach on the street. His trembling body slid down the wall, a thin sheen of sweat glistening his skin. With a pale face Seifer saw the shredded skin on the bottoms of Squall's feet. He looked down the alley to faintly see Squall's blood-splattered footsteps that led a path right to them. He swallowed the guilt that lumped in his throat, though he found it incredibly hard to breathe. Breath ragged he hurriedly shrugged out of his trench coat.

"Can you stand?" His steady voice held urgency.

Squall nodded and began to pull himself up. Seifer bent down to help, threw his coat around the trembling boy, then turned around.

"Get on my back." Came the austere order.

"No." Squall husked back, voice low with pain.

"Get on." Seifer demanded again, his patience dwindling.

Squall glared about to refuse again when his footing gave way and he fell into the blonde's broad back. Seifer hoisted him up, encountering little resistance from the feeble brunet, then briskly strode off, seemingly undisrupted by the added weight.

It was not long before they rounded a corner and a stopped carriage blocked their path. The drivers' identity obscured by the black cloak draped over his head. Squall's heart thudded wildly in his chest, thinking it was an adversary. Then the driver drew back his cloak; Irvine. He tipped his hat in mock salutation.

"You two lofty gentleman look like you could use a ride. Get in." He drawled thickly.

Seifer carried them to the carriage door, helped Squall in, gave the direction, " to my manor. Pull around back," and then fluidly slipped in beside him.

As soon as the carriage door shut, Seifer sunk into the leather cushioned seat and exhaled loudly, massaging the palms off his hands over his closed eyes. The silence that fell made Squall uncomfortable, as it was unexpected. He did not know what he expected Seifer to say, but he wanted, needed to hear something.

It had not occurred to Squall, until he glimpsed the hard lines around Seifer's eyes and mouth, that the man could be exhausted. He looked thoroughly worn, even through the haze of night. It was a strange look for the young blonde that contrasted sharply against everything he had come to know about the slave tamer. Was he the one that wore the relentless and persistent blonde out? His thoughts treaded dangerous territory as he wondered just what he meant to Seifer, and what Seifer would stand to lose by losing him, as a slave. He wanted to ask why Seifer came back. Why he risked his life and his reputation even after he had set him free? Unless Seifer had not really meant to free him... Instead, he gazed at Seifer's unflinching form, and clung to the trench coat draped around his arms.

And he felt something wet on the inside of the coat. Looking down he touched the dampness and brought his hand out from within. His brows furrowed, as the dampness he touched seemed to paint his hand black. He snapped his neck over to Seifer and dimly made out the same dark dampness staining his side. Blood.

As if he smelled the anxiety off Squall, Seifer's eyes easily opened towards the boy. He could only make out the wide whites of Squall's eyes as he was silhouetted by the moonlight, but he knew what was on his mind, and hand.

" Just a flesh wound." He said calmly, though he pressed his hand tight against the gash.

The carriage wheels gradually came to a stop. Seifer threw the carriage door open and slid out first. When Squall went to follow he saw Seifer standing directly in the doorway, his back to Squall. After a silent moment of deliberation on Squall's part, Seifer craned his neck towards the boy.

" You aren't walking, get on…last time." That familiar authoritative tone sent chills down his spine.

Fighting the blonde at this point was futile, with his dislocated shoulder and myriad of bruises and injuries; he would not have stood a chance. He reluctantly draped his arms and legs around Seifer's broad form. He could not help but blush at the feel of strong pectorals under his palms and cords of working muscle against his groin. The blonde was built like a workhorse. Even though he was injured he showed no outward sign of disability. His show of endurance silently impressed Squall, as he would never admit it.

Irvine jumped down from the driver's seat and only managed a half step before Seifer sent him an order as well, " Go fetch my physician."

"At this hour?" Irvine chuckled lightly, oblivious to their conditions.

" Go, Irvine!" Seifer bellowed. Squall felt the rumble in his own chest.

" As his majesty wishes…" Irvine scoffed and jumped back onto his carriage seat.

Seifer carried them through a side entrance, the servant's quarters, the passageway Squall tried to escape through once upon a time. Being back in Seifer's manor filled him with conflicting sentiments. He no longer dreaded it, but it brought back a taste of bitter resentment, a dulling resentment.

Seifer stopped at a servant's quarter and pounded on the wooden door. An elderly woman answered, her face distressed and confused.

" My apologies, Sirrah, would you run some bathwater up to my chambers please. There's been an injury." He spoke hurriedly yet still composed enough not to startle the elderly woman.

It was the first time he witnessed how Seifer treated his servants. And it was not at all what he expected from the blonde. Seifer spoke to his servants with respect. His tone was not that of an expectant master but of a humble master who understood that his servants did not have to do his bidding.

"Of course, at once Sir!" And with that she shut the door to make herself presentable.

As they strode off down the corridor Squall felt voyeuristic, like a fly tagging along on Seifer's shoulder, seeing a side of the blonde he wasn't intended to.

Once in his bedchamber Seifer deposited Squall onto the bedside, then strode off to shuffle through his drawers. His chamber still had the candlelight's flickering from earlier. Squall swallowed hard and pulled the coat tighter around him. He felt wholly vulnerable back in Seifer's chambers.

Seifer came back with breeches, a shirt, and another coat in his arms. He threw the shirt and breeches next to Squall, and shrugged into the other coat.

"They aren't yours but they'll have to do for now."

Brows raised Squall looked up at Seifer's unpredicted hospitality. His gaze seemed to make the blonde uncomfortable as he shifted and scratched the back of his neck, darting his eyes away. Squall blinked and looked down at the clothing that would no doubt be five sizes too large.

"Do, do you need help getting in them?" Seifer mistook Squall's inaction as inability and presumptuously took a step towards him.

Squall quickly shock his head, "No…"

Seifer awkwardly caught himself and retracted his step and aid. He lingered there hesitantly before asking, " Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

" No…" Came Squall's terse answer.

Seifer folded his arms and stood there looking like he wanted to jump out of his skin.

Sirrah interrupted in that moment with a basin far too large for her in hand and cloth tucked under her arm.

" Here Sir, I put some sea salt in the water." She waddled in and Seifer jumped to meet her at the threshold and grabbed the basin and cloth from her.

"Thank you very much Sirrah, I'll take it from here."

" Are you sure Sir? Is there anything else I can get for you?" She clasped her willowy hands in what was considered an obedient and sincere display to any master.

"No, no that will be all Sirrah. Go get some rest." Seifer insisted and turned to place the basin on the floor, under Squall's dangling feet.

Her mouth made a little 'o' as she saw Squall on the bed, half dressed in oversized breeches. She must not have caught him earlier hanging off Seifer's back.

"T-thank you Sir." She stuttered and bowed as she exited through the threshold of his chamber.

Squall looked down at the top of mussed blonde hair as Seifer knelt, saturating the washcloths in warm salt water.

He looked up and caught Squall's eyes.

" This will sting, but the salt will help cleanse away bacteria and infection." He waited, the statement also asking permission to continue.

Squall nodded.

The blonde gingerly touched the warm cloth to the sole of Squall's left foot. Squall hissed, as expected, it stung. His foot involuntarily twitched. He did the same to the right foot. Then motioned Squall to submerge both his feet into the basin. As he did he bit back a groan of agony.

Once in, Seifer cupped both Squall's ankles and squeezed gently, enough to steady his twitching feet and cut off some of the circulation, lessening the searing sensation of salt sucking out the bacteria in his flesh. It was a tender gesture. It added to the paradox that was Seifer. Things were easier when hate and anger were primary motivators.

After a few moments the water turned rusty and dingy. Seifer pulled Squall's feet out; they dangled over the basin. Seifer took one of the clean cloths and pressed it lightly against each of the soles of Squall's feet, collecting the excess grim and blood.

It felt odd to have Seifer fussing over him. It felt odd to be back in Seifer's manor, in his bedchambers, in a wholly different capacity. Perhaps the silence felt so thick because neither knew in which capacity they stood with one other. So much had changed since the last time they were together.

"Almasy?" A foreign voice came from the threshold.

Seifer let the cloth fall into the basin. He stood wiping his hands on his shirt before extending one out to the visitor. Irvine lingered behind in the threshold of the doorway, ankles and arms crossed.

" Dr. Kadowski, thank you for coming. I'm sorry about the intrusion." Seifer began in earnest but the Doctor's easy laugh silenced him.

" Please Dear, if I'm not used to your untimely episodes after servicing you and your family for this long, then I'm afraid I'm a lost cause as much as you." The wrinkles around her smiling eyes told of the myriad of times she'd dealt with Seifer's injuries.

Seifer cracked a tired smile at the doctor before stepping aside and gesturing towards Squall.

" I have an entire kit dedicated to the Almasy household in the event that something like this crops up." She continued as she knelt before Squall and dropped her leather case next to her.

Her smile came effortlessly and she had a matronly quality that made her easy to trust as she poked and prodded at Squall's tender feet.

" There's a flesh wound, and then there's a flesh wound." Irvine chimed in with his usual ill-timed quips.

Both the Doctor and Squall glared at Irvine, but the crude man was really only there for moral support for Seifer. Though the towering blonde was silent and barely registered him if only to snap at him, he knew he appreciated his presence. Just as he predicted that Seifer would do something heroically compromising in order to get Squall back from the Count's captivity. It was old friend intuition.

" The damage is done but not irreparably so. I'm going to apply an ointment and leave a salve with you to apply when the ointment dries up." The Doctor began as she pulled a jar of dark jelly like substance from her bag and began dabbing it onto his feet. " The ointment is to prevent infection and the salve is to cool the skin, because I guarantee you, this healing process is going to burn." She annunciated that last part by looking Squall dead in the eyes, much that same way Seifer did earlier.

She stood up and dusted her skirts off, " By decree of me stay off your feet, if you don't, the results could be regrettable."

Irvine chuckled at her informal yet authoritative tone.

The Doctor arched one brow playfully towards Seifer and Irvine, " You laugh but I can't tell you how many unnecessary visits the both of you have acquired by not listening to my _very simple_ instructions."

It was almost comical how the playful remarks made both men look like little boys who had just been chastised.

" Alright, is that all? How about you Almasy? Any injuries?" The Doctor inquired as she started collecting her things.

" No." Came Seifer's curt response.

Yes.

Yes he did.

Squall wanted to say as much to the Doctor, but Seifer was his own man. If he didn't think he needed medical attention, then he didn't. Squall wasn't about to henpeck.

The Doctor scrutinized him a moment longer, "…Alright. I'll be on my way then. Irvine, if you'd be so kind as to drop me off from whence you kidnapped me."

" Why certainly, for my favorite physician." He bowed and extended his elbow for the woman, who knocked him upside the head before continuing ahead of him.

"Aww, c'mon Doc, I'm needy." Irvine's voice flowed from outside the chambers.

And then it was just two, left again in heavy silence.

Seifer rubbed the back of his neck and turned towards the door, where the remnants of Irvine's voice carried.

" I suggest staying here for the night," Seifer began, then stopped and looked over at Squall with a glossy unfamiliar look in his eyes, " unless… you have somewhere else you'd like to go…"

Squall looked down and shook his head.

Seifer inhaled and nodded in response, his eyes finding solace in the ceiling.

" You stay here. I'll take the guest chamber."

" I'll sleep there." Squall interjected quickly, uncomfortable with the idea of displacing Seifer, and just overall uncomfortable.

" Don't move. You need to stay off your feet. Any more walking around and you are likely to get staff infection. Then there's really nothing anyone can do for you." He finished the last part with an ominous undertone.

Squall nodded dumbly. He knew Seifer was right. Again.

And then there was one. And he had never felt so utterly alone.

TBC…

Oh goodness! Again my sincerest apologies for taking forever to get this updated! Thank you to all my loyal and dedicated readers who have prompted me to get this out of my head! It's you guys that push me to continue! Really it is!

My career has been taking off much quicker than I anticipated and I've been swamped with work! 18-hour days, 6 days a week are not conducive to a healthy writing schedule. Thus is the film industry though…

Another update soon! Promise!

Check out The Glitch Mob – Between two points, it was a big inspiration to this chapter! Also an overall amazing song!


	16. A Modest Proposal

Master of Slaves

By: Baby Chiba

* * *

**Chapter 16: A Modest Proposal**

* * *

The war drums beat.

Soundlessly, Squall's eyes shot open. They strained against the lack of color. Only different shades of black could be discerned. He clutched at his hammering heart. Unsure of why it beat so veraciously.

But then he heard it.

Faint, though it was, it was there.

A strangled moan; an agonized groan.

It did not come from his lips.

He threw aside the duvet cover and stood with the intent to pursue the sounds, but was sordidly reminded of his maiming lacerations. He fell heavily to the ground and instinctively clutched his ankles, trying to choke the pain from his feet.

He heard the sounds again.

Pure adrenaline possessed him. He used his arms to slide his body across the floor since he could not walk. He would not allow the Counts acts to render him helpless. Once in the hallway he could decipher the origin of the sounds. The guest bedroom.

Seifer.

Squirming his way down the hall into the guest bedroom he conjured horrid thoughts, thoughts of the Count exacting revenge on Seifer.

Hyne. What if the Count had somehow overpowered Seifer and was torturing him? If he felt nothing else for the man, guilt would be it, if he were being subjected to torture!

Thankfully the guest bedroom door was left ajar. Squall had no idea what awaited him on the other side of the door, but he barreled his body through as if that nagging inclination to run the other way never existed. He pulled himself to his knees and waiting a moment for some extravagant reaction. When nothing happened his eyes scanned the dark room for shadowy silhouettes of any inhabitants. He found none, save for Seifer, groaning in pain. He shuffled on his knees along the floor, nearly toppling face first a few times, to the bedside.

"W-wh-wha." It was barely more than thrown together syllables in the semblance of a word that came from Seifer's lips.

The time for confusion was now.

"Seifer?" The name sounded foreign coming from his mouth.

No response.

He leaned in closer, his eyes adjusting in the dim moonlight.

"Sei-." He cut himself off as he touched Seifer's wrist.

It was ice.

He could see now that Seifer was shivering uncontrollably in a heap of cold sweat.

"What the fuck." He spat out.

None of this made sense. It housed a profound unease in him.

He pulled himself up onto the bed with Seifer and rolled in next to him. He gasped as his skin connected with Seifer's. It was fucking frigid and clammy, like a servant of Shiva's. Squall exhaled shakily, fighting against a string of shivers as he molded his stomach against Seifer's clammy back. The union did not last long. Seifer erratically elbowed Squall in the ribs and twisted away.

If Squall had not seen Seifer's eyes glossed over in milky oblivion, he probably would have punched him back. The blonde looked possessed.

He needed medical attention. First, he needed to last through the night. His chances were grim.

Squall grappled with Seifer's feeble flailing arms and a knee as he tried to mold against him again. However, with Seifer incoherently battling him, he could not get close. Squall threw his body on top of Seifer's, using his legs and arms to pin Seifer in a mirror position.

The blonde groaned harshly.

"Shh, Seifer. It's okay." He coaxed, trying to calm the blonde.

As Seifer stilled he applied less pressure on his limbs. Satisfied Seifer was calm he worked them into a position where Squall's body heat could benefit him most. Chests pressed against one another and legs tangled, an intimate position, yet a grave situation. Squall expected nothing less from their volatile relationship.

During the night the blonde would torque his body weakly, but Squall would coax him to stillness with reassuring whispers in his ear, until he was just a mass of shivering flesh. Squall pried his eyes open as they began to close, fearful of waking up next to a cold corpse.

Hyne help them both.

* * *

Hyne answered his pleas because Squall was awakened by a bronchial cough, followed by a string of incoherent curses and limbs twisting violently out of his hold.

"The fuck…" Seifer muttered.

At the first jolt of activity, he was stinted. There came that guttural groan he had heard last night, and Seifer recoiled into himself, holding his side.

He could not even muster a curse of pain. The agony silenced him. For someone with such a high threshold for pain, it wrought an unnatural anxiety in Squall.

Squall watched Seifer lay there stone still in a fetal position, and the tremors return before he said something.

" You need a doctor." It was almost inaudible.

Seifer acknowledged nothing. Squall was not sure he had even registered the words.

The brunet made a move to hop off the bed, but Seifer's hand snaked out and grabbed his wrist. Slowly, he brought his head up, forehead slick with sheen of cold sweat.

"What do you care?" It was more of an accusation than a question. The pain had made him bitter.

Or perhaps he always had been.

For once, Squall was looking down at Seifer. He had the upper hand. But he could think of only one thing. He didn't like it. Not at all.

"I'm not about to see you die." He bit back and went to slide off the bedside.

Seifer squeezed his wrist harder, his hand trembling in the process.

" Don't get on your feet." He husked breathless.

It was killing him to speak, but his pride would not allow Squall to see him completely unable. Though he scoffed in his head at the blonde's stupidity, he understood it. The situation was reversed not too long ago.

" I didn't see this coming." Irvine's voice shot through the tension.

Squall looked up to see Irvine standing in the doorway. Seifer did not move.

Irvine shook his head, vocalizing Squall's scoff, " Came to check on the kid, but he's babysitting you." Brows furrowed he stepped into the room, coming behind Seifer and putting a hand on his back. They both recoiled at the same time. Irvine shot a look over to Squall. Violet eyes alight.

" How long has he been like this?" He drawled; his octaves lower than normal.

"Hours." Squall breathed, looking down at Seifer, concern knitting his voice.

Irvine tsked a few times before shoving his hands in his breech pockets, " Should have let the Doc look at you last night."

"Irvine." Seifer pushed the faltering snarl from his throat.

Squall was not sure if Seifer was pleading with Irvine for help, or chastising him.

Irvine sighed, "I'll get the Doc. You stay with him kid."

Squall dumbly nodded as Irvine turned on his boots and strode out just as briskly as he had walked in.

The brunet turned his attention back on Seifer. The blonde had started to unfurl his body and lay in the bed, but he struggled with even that. Squall shifted closer to him and gently began assisting.

"Don't." Seifer spat out, though his throat choked off most of the word.

Hyne his pride…

A quiver escaped his lips as he forced his body to obey and lay on his back in the bed. A sliver of pity and admiration burned in Squall as he watched the proud blonde's face twist in agony.

He was resilient. He'd give him that.

The thought that Squall should be gloating right now crossed his mind. Weeks ago if he would have seen the blonde in this state he'd have a grin ear to ear. He would have thanked Hyne above for a punishment long overdue. However, in the face of his fantasies, there was no elation. He felt more unease with the fact that Seifer, who had come to epitomize strength and stubbornness in his mind, was now succumbing to an unknown aliment. A foe he could not fight off because he could not see or touch it. In that moment he realized the sheer fragility of his morality, and of Seifer's.

The tremors had subsided substantially from last night, but they were still present. Squall had a notion that Seifer was beating them back to save face…and losing energy fast.

Once Seifer was settled Squall assumed his earlier position to lie atop of the sweaty blonde.

And was immediately met with resistance, "Don't." He rasped, haphazardly swatting a hand in Squall's face.

Aggravated that he was being put in a position of helplessness, he grabbed Seifer's swatting hand, hard, " The body heat will help."

Seifer hadn't seen a storm in Squall's eyes like there was now for weeks. It was still intoxicating, even though he felt as if he would die any moment. And so he surrendered.

Swallowing hard he felt Squall's hard, hot body press against his. The irony that he'd wanted this to happen for weeks, and when it did, the circumstances had to be life and death, hit him hard.

Squall was right; the heat from his body was not only comforting, but also saving him from hypothermia.

They both laid there in silence, trying not to feel the utter absurdity of the situation.

* * *

"I swear boy, your pride will be the end of you." Doctor Kadowski chastised as she walked through the door.

She shot Seifer an interesting glare, mixed with pity. It spoke volumes to how much she understood Seifer and his past.

Her appearance was slightly more disheveled then last night, no doubt testament to her lack of sleep because of the untimely callings.

"Up, let me look at you." She motioned from Squall to roll off Seifer and for Seifer to present his wounds.

Squall did so wondering how Seifer would explain his invisible assailant to the Doc. However, Seifer said nothing. Instead he shot Squall an apologetic look before reluctantly pulling his shirt up, revealing, much to his chagrin, a very irritated laceration.

"Bloody Hyne above Seifer, why didn't you speak up last night!" Irvine voiced the words that Squall's frozen tongue seemed incapable of speaking in that moment.

Doctor Kadowski simply pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.

"Who did this to you?" Irvine continued, taking a step closer to inspect the gore, yet remaining a good distance away.

" The Count." Seifer rasped out.

It was ugly.

The wound rested right above his right hip, a gaping laceration that oozed slightly black looking mucus.

Squall did not understand how he could have missed it. Seifer's nightshirt had been stained by it, yet he still missed it…

Squall remained stone still on the opposite bedside of Seifer.

Seifer bowed his head. No doubt embarrassed that it had to come to this.

The Doc dipped her head to inspect the wound. Seifer flinched.

" Don't you dare, this was your doing, now deal with it." The Doc chastised, not missing a beat as she continued prodding at the wound with a medical instrument.

She smelled it before standing upright, her brows knit furiously. She looked confused.

" It smells like Malboro." Her voice took on a very grave tone.

The blonde chuckled bitterly and leaned the back of his head against the headboard.

"Fucking sadist…" Irvine drawled under his breath.

Squall was missing something.

Squall blinked, "What does that mean?" His voice was small and low.

"It means the dagger was coated with poison." Seifer bit out harshly, his voice wavering in what could have been pain or anger.

Squall's eyes widened ever so slightly.

He had meant Seifer to die. His intentions were very clear. Squall felt nauseous. He'd actually felt sympathy for the Count… but he really was just a monster.

" I can't just cauterize it, I've got to draw the poison out first." The Doc interjected in a somber tone.

Seifer let his lashes close lightly and gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. By the hardening lines in his face, he knew what was coming…

"It's going to be a hell of a detoxing process Seifer…" It was not reassurance, but the Doc needed Seifer to know what he had gotten himself into.

" Just do it." His voice was so strained the syllables rolled as one off his tongue.

Squall glanced at Seifer's hard face, his eyes unfocused and milky, a heavy sheen of sweat plastered his locks to his forehead, his skin drab. Squall wasn't sure Seifer was fully cognizant. He would have agreed to anything to get the pain to subside.

And after his consent, he remained silent.

* * *

The Doc had to go into town for some necessary items. She was gone only a matter of minutes yet for Seifer, and his silent sufferer, Squall, it felt like an eternity.

Squall did not know what he expected to see when the Doc returned. A magical potion that would cure the poison painlessly? A salve? An antidote? But a murky jar of slimy creatures was definitely nowhere in the line of possibilities. The liquid that housed the creatures inside the jar was a greenish-brown, the color of renounced lakes that remained stagnant for eons. Algae decorated the inside of the jar and tiny suctioning mouths cleaned the glass, the mouths of the most vulgar looking creatures. They were black and shapeless, with no eyes, and certainly no heart.

Chills ranked up Squall's spine as his mind concocted ways the Doc planned on using those creatures. The brunet mindlessly looked to Seifer's reaction, expecting distain, or at the very least distaste.

Seifer remained silent and passive. The only way he knew the man was alive was the rapid rising and falling of his chest.

"Leeches. They'll suck the life out of anything. But for our purposes, they will suffice for sucking the poison out of your system." The Doc explained, cradling the jar in her hands.

Suddenly Squall felt suffocated. He felt as if he were the one trapped inside that murky jar. He looked again to Seifer's reaction.

The man was void of any emotion, no resistance, no distain, no elation, nothing.

"Irvine, tie him down." The Doc commanded.

Irvine hesitated for only a moment, as he absorbed the surprise of the Doc's instructions. He rooted through Seifer's armoire and pulled out thick twine.

" No, something stronger. It has to hold him." The Doc interrupted.

Irvine craned his neck towards her, face still in shock, then put the rope away and drew out heavy chains.

At the sound of the harsh clanking, Squall clenched his jaw. His stomach churned. That old familiar sound was anything but harmonious to his ears. However, these chains were not meant for him.

The bitter irony of martyrdom.

Irvine looked to Seifer as he approached with the chains for any sign of resistance. Seifer gave nothing. So Irvine proceeded to chain Seifer, as he would have a slave, to the bed, wrists above his head, ankles to either bedpost.

The image of Seifer chained to his own bed, by his own devices burned in Squall's retinas. This was the image of divine justice. Hyne had answered his many pleas for revenge. A life for a life, chain to chain.

The Doc pulled on the chains, satisfied that Seifer was properly restrained she then proceeded. With one last look at Seifer, Irvine left the room.

The lid of the jar came off with a sickening pop. Squall swore from the other side of the room he could hear the little creatures sloshing around in their cesspool of algae. With metal tongs the Doc pulled a squirming creature out and placed it directly on Seifer's open wound.

The response was immediate. Seifer growled, his abdomen tightened and his chains clanked lightly as he fought against the sensation of tiny teeth clamping onto his exposed tissue. She placed another, and another and another, until the wound was obscured by black writhing creatures, greedily sucking away. With every leech the sounds it wrought from Seifer became more and more wretched. He fought valiantly to remain in control, but he was no God… As the leeches started drawing the poison out, he broke.

He arched painfully off the bed as much as his restraints would allow him. He twisted his torso in angles that should be anatomically impossible. His eyes darted across the room, searching for anything, something to act as a reprieve, a sheen of panic set in his dark emerald eyes as he realized, there was none. He would have to bear this all the way through, to the end, or die.

Squall watched Seifer's face contort with the excruciating realization. He wanted to offer some sort of solace, wanted to reassure Seifer that he would come through the waves of pain just fine. But Squall could offer nothing. He could only watch, a mortified voyeur, offering distant support. Even watching was unbearable.

Squall stood from his chair and took a step back from his place at the side of the bed. Then another. And another. His own pain forgotten by the morbid display before him.

Seifer was seething, screaming, grinding. It looked like he was seizing.

Squall backed up until the back of his thighs hit an armrest of a chair; he half fell in it, half over it. Tearing his eyes away from Seifer he scrambled to his knees, grasping the chair for support.

Every visible appendage and muscle on Seifer's body was strained and tight. A thick vein of purple protruded from his neck, it seemed to wind under his face then protrude back out in his forehead. The muscles in his arms and chest quivered and pulsated in time with the leeches.

This was too much. Squall felt unsteady. He would never have wished this on anyone…but in fact, he had. He was lightheaded.

Seifer screamed a blood-curdling roar, and frantically thrashed about in his bondage. His neck snapped side to side so violently Squall wondered if it would snap off.

" When will it stop?" Squall didn't realize he'd asked it amid the screams.

The Doc turned around to face him, unfazed by Seifer's reaction, " Not any time soon."

It was too much. He couldn't take it. He scurried on his knees out the bedroom door, covering his ears, trying to drown out the awful shrieks and screams. His own chest was rising and falling to a similar rhythm as Seifer's. The blood beat loud in his ears. He practically slid down the winding staircase belly first and crumpled into a heap of limbs at the bottom. He rolled onto his side and crawled to the front door. He needed to get away from the sounds. Just as he started pulling himself up the door handle to open it, it opened from the outside. He unceremoniously felt forward onto the cold cobblestone, looking at two immaculate boots. He looked up at Irvine's stoic façade with a hand on the doorknob.

Irvine looked down at Squall disinterested, brought his half finished cigarello to his lips and turned on his heels.

Squall pulled himself up and crawled over to a softer spot on the stone porch, allowing his ears time to adjust from echoing screams to the quieter sounds of the morning city.

Irvine slowly paced in front of his parked carriage as he drew the last few wisps of tobacco from his cigarello. He lazily flicked the butt onto the unpaved street in front of Seifer's manor and turned his attention to Squall, exhaling a cloud of smoke that spiraled elegantly into the sky.

"Get in." He commanded softly, motioning with his head towards his parked carriage.

Squall blinked, unsure if Irvine was addressing him. They stared at each other for a moment. Irvine's face was unreadable, but patiently waiting. He did not know why, but he obeyed, and slunk himself over to the carriage, pulling his own weight up the small metal stairs and onto the cushioned leather. Irvine made no move to aid him. Which was just as well, Squall would have refused it if he had.

Irvine stepped in after Squall and sat facing him. Irvine knocked on the wall beside him and the carriage slowly started to sway in motion. He could hear the clicking of the metal horseshoes against the stone street.

" I'd say let's go for a walk but that would aggravate your…warm disposition." Irvine drawled irreverently, looking down at Squall's shredded feet.

" I have nothing to say to you." Squall bit out gruffly.

The shock wore off and was replaced by his everlasting resentment for the man that brought him to this dreadful city.

" Then listen." Irvine snapped back just as quickly, yet devoid of bitter emotion. " Seifer is a very practical man, but when something, anything, catches his fancy, it compromises his logic." He paused, sizing Squall up, " He should have never released you. He acted on impulse and he was wrong."

Squall opened his mouth, but Irvine was faster.

" Hold your tongue a moment longer. I'm not suggesting he keep you as a slave…" Irvine looked out the small window at the passing activity in town, " he's beyond that." He trailed off, "but you need papers to pass through the city borders." One more look, this time Irvine's eyes trailed over his frame, it left Squall feeling vulnerable, " You'd never make it out without being picked up and traded among slave owners."

Squall drew in a thoughtful breath, unsure of Irvine's motivation. It went against everything he stood for. It made him weary.

" How do I get my papers?" He humored Irvine.

He was met with a sharp, " You don't. You are not a citizen therefore are not entitled to the same rights as one."

This was dead logic. Was Irvine trying to persuade Squall to stay with Seifer as a slave because the reality was, it was probably the best option?

"However… there are ways in which you could acquire papers." Irvine finished, a strange glint in his eyes.

He had Squall's attention.

" Become an indentured servant in the Almasy household, you'll be granted amnesty and given the rights of a partial citizen. You could report him if he abuses the powers granted him as a feudal lord."

He did not like the idea of servitude in any capacity. However, if there was an end in sight, perhaps it was tolerable. He mulled on it for a few moments.

He looked out the window at the passing street vendors and food stands, " How long?"

" A year and a day. After that period of time, you'll be a resident of Galbadia and free to travel within and outside it's walls whenever you wish." Irvine finished gently, an elbow propped on the back of the seat and his head resting against his palm.

Squall tried to play the proposal out in his head.

He scoffed softly, " He won't accept." He thought Irvine a fool for suggesting such a thing.

" You're right. He'll denounce the idea the second he hears it."

Squall frowned, floundered by Irvine's dead logic yet again.

" But…" A resounding possibility, " he cannot denounce you. Ask him and he will grant you."

Squall shook his head his eyes still steeled on the window, " He won't."

" Did he not run to your rescue when he found out the Count possessed you?"

" He did the same for Nida. It means nothing." Squall shot back, bringing his attention back to Irvine.

" Perhaps, but what have you to lose? You only stand to gain from this."

" What if he rides with me to the borders?" Squall asked, scheming alternate possibilities in his head.

Irvine chuckled, " You're a pretty thing. Someone will eventually pick you up, without papers; it will be a repeat of last night. And without citizenship or even residency in any nation, how much can you expect? Do you wish to be a vagabond for life?"

He was right. Captivity could happen in any nation. He had been lucky to dodge slave traders for as long as he did. Luck can only take you so far though.

Squall exhaled pensively. His eyes steeled over in thought. It was by no means ideal, but it was something. It was hope.

Irvine saw the gears turning in Squall's mind and silently smiled to himself. The seed had been planted. Now it was up to the kid to make the proposal. He opened the window behind him to speak with his driver," Loop around the city a few times." He paused and looked over at Squall, " unless you're eager to get back to that medical anomaly of a blonde."

Squall narrowed his eyes at Irvine; the pinpoints of his eyes would have been sharper than a hawk's talons if he had to make a comparison.

Irvine chuckled and shut the window, " It'll be a while, would you like some tea?"

Squall rolled his eyes and chose to ignore the man's dry humor for the duration of their ride…if possible.

* * *

**TBC…**

**A/N:** Hi guys! I always seem to begin these with incessant apologies for taking so long! I want to thank all the readers who have stayed with the story to this point. A special thank you to the readers that took the time to message me and plead with me to continue. This chapter is dedicated to you! I promise I will finish this epic. It is my love child, but life beckons.

I'm not sure how many literary geeks I have as followers but this chapter's title is an ode to Jonathan Swift's 'A Modest Proposal'. I think if Irvine could have met Swift, they would have gotten along smashingly!

As always please review, it is what motivates me!


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