Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sleep comes easily when you’re wrapped in strong arms. Much more easily and soundly than Konoe can remember at home in Karou. That seems like years ago now, though it can’t have been more than a few weeks.

When he wakes, Rai is already preparing for the day, adjusting his clothing and gear. I can still smell his scent on me, surrounding me, like a blanket. Konoe’s body is modestly covered with a sheet from the bed—a small kindness, but one that doesn’t escape his notice. He can’t help the warm feeling spreading in his chest—probably it just seems kind in comparison of recent traumatic experiences.

Though Konoe hasn’t moved, Rai seems to notice he’s awake right away. Maybe it’s one of his special abilities as a bounty hunter, thinks Konoe. Soft footsteps approach the bed, and even after having acknowledged those feelings of safety, he finds himself painfully shy. Konoe backs away from the large, lean body that sits down next to him on the bed, but he doesn’t escape the long slender fingers in his hair, fondling his ears.

“Did you sleep well?” The question is gentle, like the touch from those fingers. Konoe can’t bring himself to make eye contact with the cat before him—he can feel himself blushing fiercely. “Feeling better? The swelling in your ear has gone down quite a bit, though it’s looking a little pink right this minute. Maybe you’re just warm?”

Konoe can feel the blush creeping into his chest now, too. He hears a smile in Rai’s tone, but he can’t be sure, and he doesn’t dare look.

“You’ve slept away the morning, I’m afraid,” the silver cat continues. “It’s best to let your body rest and heal when it wants, at least for now.” Rai helps Konoe into his yukata as he’s talking. Before he ties the obi, he says, “Let‘s take a look at that brand.”

Konoe obediently rolls to his stomach, face reddening further, while Rai lifts the fabric of the robe against the back of his thigh. He feels cool fingers touching the outside of the burn, and he bristles his tail, a small hiss of pain escaping.

“I’m sorry,” Rai’s deep voice is quiet. “I just want to make sure you’re healing properly, and that you don’t get an infection. I’m going to clean the wound now.”

Konoe braces himself for worse pain, but it doesn’t come. Rai’s fingers are surprisingly gentle, working with a cool, wet cloth, quickly and efficiently. Konoe tries to ignore the excess water that drips between his legs—the feelings it arouses in him are confusing and strangely exciting, even (or maybe even because of) the slight pain stimulus. Rai applies medicinal herbs as well—Konoe’s recognizes the scent, continuing to lie still for the bandage application.

“This should keep dirt out of the wound for now,” explains Rai. “With this type of injury, however, you’ll want to keep it open to the air as much as possible,” glancing at Konoe’s face when he says this, which is heating up again, “but I understand that isn’t practical when we go out.”

“We are going out?” Konoe asks.

“It’s the final day of Antou,” Rai answers. “I thought you might enjoy seeing some of the sights. Bardo said you’d expressed interest yesterday.” Konoe relaxes, allowing Rai to pull him off the bed, straighten out his yukata, draping it carefully around his neck and shoulders, and tie his obi.

I feel like a doll, thinks Konoe.

Rai offers him a kuim, having remembered, it seems, that these sweet and sour fruits are Konoe’s favorite. He can’t help feeling a little pleased, as he slides his feet into sandals, and follows that swaying, bushy tail out of their room, down the hall and to the waiting room.

As Konoe bites into the juicy flesh of the fruit, purple juice drips down his chin. Standing in the doorway, the larger cat, turned toward him, watches him with an amused look, and leans down toward his face.

Konoe’s voice is slightly startled at the sudden proximity—and in such a public place! There are several cats in the waiting area. Rai’s large hands touch both sides of his face, and Konoe quickly squeezes his eyes shut, as though to hide. But that doesn’t stop the feeling of a warm, damp tongue trailing along the side of his mouth, down his chin to his neck. Konoe hears a gasp escape his mouth—he doesn’t know if it’s surprise, pleasure, or shame.

“You are a hopelessly messy eater, but dangerously cute,” comes a light chuckle, right next to his ear.

“Now, that’s a sight I’d never thought I’d see,” booms a cheerful voice—Konoe recognizes it as Bardo’s, and he’s sure his face must be the same purple as the fruit he’s been eating. “I know you’re in your honeymoon period, and it’s almost the season, but please—for the sake of the rest of us old farts around here—give it a rest, will you? That kind of display isn’t good for our hearts, man!”

Rai throws a scowl in Bardo’s direction, opens the door for Konoe, and they step out into the street.

The noise from outside suddenly makes a lot more sense, now that Konoe comes face to face with it. There are so many cats!—more cats than he has ever seen in his life combined. Cats crowding street vendors, cats selling food, masks, and other items, cats watching musicians and street performers, cats wandering from one location—often weaving a little—to the next.

He’s completely overwhelmed, and he shrinks back a little, unwittingly pressing his body against Rai’s. His thoughts of escape from the day before resurface briefly—there are so many cats around, it would probably be easy to lose himself in the crowd. But there’s something about this festival that puts him on edge.

Many of the cats wear costumes—not glamorous costumes, like he’d expect from a fancy city celebration—but instead, rather creepy ones. Many are disguised as devils (complete with horns and slithery tails), ancient shamans or healers, and even ghostly spirits. Konoe’s fur bristles in response to these—they give him an uneasy feeling, making his skin crawl.

He has to admit he feels safe next to Rai. Other cats give them a wide berth, making sure not to bump the silver cat as they pass.

Rai puts an arm around Konoe’s shoulders—not saying a word—and starts toward a row of stalls. Walking down the first aisle, Konoe’s nose twitches in delight at the delicious scent of cooked meat.

Again, without hesitation, Rai approaches the booth that Konoe just noticed—how did he know? Was I that obvious?—a blush appearing on his face again. Rai purchases two meat kabobs, and hands one to Konoe.

“Try it.” He’s using his not-a-request voice again. Konoe accepts the treat, and relishes it, finding its savory flavor delicious after the sweet and sour fruit he’s finished.

They continue walking between the stalls, Rai stopping to examine some foreign-looking weapons—giant battle axes, it appears—and Konoe’s eyes wander to other items in the same booth—strange items of made of fabric that he doesn’t recognize. Perhaps clothing? But they look too small to be practical, especially with the winter season approaching. The material shimmers in the afternoon sun, and he can’t take his eyes away. He realizes his hand has reached to touch an item that looks like a scarf, and it’s soft—it must be silk, but it’s almost sheer—a golden honey color—and it moves almost like water under his fingers.

The booth’s owner approaches him—an older burly cat with dark hair and spotted ears. He takes a long look at Konoe before he opens his mouth.

“I haven’t seen a companion cat before. You’re my first.”

Konoe is startled by the words and returns his hands to his sides. He looks up at the merchant cat, and thinks, Are the cats of Karou a small breed? Am I small? Why am I the smallest cat in this city? Why didn’t I know the rest of the cats of Sisa were so much larger than Karou cats?

“To be honest, when I first heard about the practice, I thought it barbaric. But looking at you, I totally understand the attraction.”

Konoe drops his gaze, and scans the surroundings briefly, looking for Rai. Is it just the piercing that is giving him away? Or is it something else?

“Oh, don’t fret, young one. I’m an old man,” the merchant approaches him a little more closely. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m just... a little curious.”

Konoe feels the silk scarf float around his neck. It’s nearly weightless.

“You’ve got great taste. This fine silk chiffon looks perfect with your eyes.” The scarf tightens slightly, as the merchant pulls him close. “I’ve never seen a cat with eyes like yours, and coloring like that.”

Konoe tries to duck his head, but can’t get out of the scarf. He can smell... something on the merchant’s breath, as his mouth gets closer to his face, and a sick feeling comes up in his stomach. He feels a hand on his ear.

“So this earring signifies your status, then?”

He feels a sharp tug—it hurts!—“Oh, is it new? Does that hurt?” But the spotted cat doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Pretty jewelry. If you were mine, I’d go all out, too.”

The merchant has pulled Konoe in front of a mirror, turning him around to face his reflection, with the larger cat’s hungry-looking face looming behind him. With a small sound of surprise, he’s shocked at what he sees. Konoe doesn’t recognize the exotic-looking cat staring back at him.

The cat in his reflection is dressed in an elegant robe—he thought the yukata was simple—but in the reflection, shimmering threads of gold and bronze silk are woven in with the cotton—in shades of taupe, brown, gold and honey. The obi is sky blue, which sets off the pattern, and strangely, his eyes, which look a little too big for his face. His eyes are a rich honeyed topaz, pupils large, lashes long and dark. Their color is highlighted by the scarf around Konoe’s neck, which is currently acting like a leash or collar, trapping him between the mirror and the merchant. His figure looks petit and trim, but perfectly proportioned. Though... the way the robe has exposed his collar bones looks strangely alluring. He’s lost even more weight than when he was in Karou—his cheekbones angular, chin gently pointed.

But what startles him most is his hair and fur. Its color isn’t right. Yes, he has white fur tipped with brown, and his hair has always been a muddy, ash blonde. But the cat in the mirror has fur and hair very unlike his own. It’s shiny, lush, and full—it looks silky—it looks like Rai’s fur, is the first thought that comes to Konoe’s mind. And his hair looks long and full—shaggy, spread out over his shoulders, begging to be touched. The hair on his head is so pale in color it’s nearly champagne, not the usual ash blonde—nearly matching the white on his ears.

A sparkle catches his eye—on the cat in mirror’s right ear, he sees a perfectly round hoop, silver in color, a large, sparkling stone set in it. Is that a diamond? Shit. Confused, he puts his hand up to the hoop in his ear and watches his reflection copy the motion. Is he walking around Ransen looking like this?

Behind him, the merchant cat licks his lips, bringing Konoe back to the real world—if that’s what this is. That sickening feeling sinks deeper into Konoe’s stomach.

“Haven’t seen yourself lately, have you? Your owner better keep you on a shorter leash, if he knows what’s good f—“

Before the merchant can finish, Konoe hears a familiar voice, relief washing over him like water.

“Cal, how’s business?”

It’s Rai, who appears behind the merchant’s shoulder in the mirror, making direct, aggressive eye contact, walking over with large, confident strides. Once he’s standing next to the merchant, Konoe doesn’t think the merchant looks quite as large as before.

“Looks like you found something of mine.” The merchant immediately drops his hands from the scarf around Konoe’s neck and takes a step to the side. Noticing the scarf, Rai says, “Oh, a congratulatory gift for my new pet?”

He steps behind Konoe, fixing the scarf gently—adjusting it just so, looking at Konoe admiringly in the mirror, which earns him a blush. I can’t help it, but the difference between Rai’s fingers against my neck and the merchant’s—Konoe feels a shudder run through him. He’s afraid it might have been visible in the mirror, and he’s even more nervous Rai felt him respond to his touch, especially after he feels Rai’s body press into him from behind right after. My knees feel weak.

“You have excellent taste, Cal,” Rai continues, and Konoe’s feels Rai’s lips brush over his pierced ear. “I’m guessing this is in thanks for the last bandits I saved you from?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” sputters the spotted cat. “And congratulations, he’s an excellent specimen. Myself, I’ve never really seen the benefits of companionship—but I totally get it after meeting him. You couldn’t have done better. Please, take the scarf with my most sincere gratitude.”

Konoe realizes he’s standing right there, being spoken of in the third person, as though he were some kind of object. He hates it. He’s relieved when they finally walk away from that stall.

He can’t get the vision from the mirror out of his head. Who was that cat in the reflection? What’s happened to him, to make him look like that? His hair is so pale, his body so much changed, the look in his eyes so different—it’s almost like he’s another cat. Or maybe even not a cat. He’s become something else—and as he looks around him, he becomes aware of other eyes on him, which make him nervous and uncomfortable.

I guess I’d stare at me, too. But what happened to me?

Rai leads him to watch a live theatre performance, which he’s never experienced. He’s seated on the grass, between Rai’s legs, feeling Rai’s hands in his hair, or his chin resting on his head or hugging him against his broad warm chest. It’s an epic heroic tale and love story—featuring a cursed Sanga and his companion Touga, four devils, an evil magician, and the end of the world. He supposes the story is supposed to be roughly historical—this is the story about what happened to the Void, which was overtaking the world, and how it was saved.

He finds the devils frightening, however—their costumes are too realistic—he can’t wrap his head around how the actors have hidden their ears in their horns. Especially the devil of wrath—the character’s name is Razel: everything about him is red and fiery. It’s almost as though the actor is speaking to Konoe directly, and he lowers his ears, cowering between Rai’s legs and pressing closely against him whenever Razel bellows his lines. Even when speaking softly, Razel is terrifying.

Rai is enchanted that his kitten is so taken with the play. The actors have indeed immersed themselves in their roles, but the way his young companion presses against him whenever the devils appear is adorable. He offers comfort, without being too obvious about it—perhaps he’s never seen a play, Rai thinks. There were traveling theatrical troupes that came through Setsura, but he couldn’t imagine they’d make it all the way to Karou.

Once the play ends, they wander past a few more stalls, and Rai picks up some warm drinks. After pressing the mug into the young cat’s cold hands, he watches as Konoe’s nose twitches first, before taking a sip. Konoe drinks all of the proffered beverage quickly—probably a little faster than he should have, based on how much he is swaying afterwards—but Rai doesn’t mind. They take the forest road back to the inn, now that night has fallen, wandering alongside the cheerfully bubbling stream.

Konoe walks along the bank, Rai watching from a distance. He seems more at ease now, away from the busyness of the street, the crowded marketplace. Rai wonders if he’d noticed all the attention he’d attracted. Watching him, even from a distance, and in this playful mood, Rai can’t quite understand the smaller cat’s captivating beauty. Rai feels relieved himself, finally enjoying in the privacy and quiet of the wooded area outside the city, away from other cats, away from prying eyes, away from the hungry looks raking over his companion.

Konoe has dropped down to his hands and knees, slurping water from the stream, in a very un-companion-like way, and the corners of Rai’s lips curve upwards in a smile. When was the last time he felt this happy? Had he been lonely? Was there something in the smaller cat’s manner, his straightforwardness, perhaps, that he craved? Or envied?

Instead of getting up from the stream, Konoe has suddenly stretched his body out on the grass, to Rai’s surprise. It looks like he’s gazing up the stars. I guess I’d better see what that kitten has gotten himself into this time.

Chapter Text

Rai’s nose prickles as he approaches. He’s watching Konoe, rolled onto his stomach, rubbing his nose in a small patch of flowers. Hmm. What strange behavior.

He didn’t think catnip grew in the wild anymore—especially not this close to the city. Surely, this was dangerous. Looking around, the smell only grows stronger.

Maybe it was incense, left out by another couple who’d bought it at the festival, and his companion had stumbled upon it? It doesn’t surprise Rai that with his small stature, he’d be so quickly affected. Catnip was known to have this intoxicating affect—and as he’d witnessed their first evening together, Konoe was more than sensitive to it, its effects lingering long after the initial exposure.

Rai didn’t mind Konoe’s response—not even a little bit—but he remembers Konoe’s brand on his thigh earlier, and he wants to be careful with his new companion. Keeping these thoughts in mind, he approaches, the scent cloying to his own senses as well, looking down at the form writhing in the grass. He doesn’t want to frighten the young cat—they’d had such a nice time today—as he knew his own response to catnip could vary widely.

The moon of shadow is waxing toward full, currently rising in the sky, offering pale light through the forest clearing. It reflects pale gold in Konoe’s soft hair, gently framing his face. Even his hair looks warm, Rai thinks, as he crouches down next to his companion, offering a hand to help him up.

When he sees Konoe’s face close up, however, his large eyes showing dilated pupils, framed with dark lashes, he notices a sly smile on the small cat’s lips. He’s quite bewitching when he smiles like that—he looks strangely seductive and sexy, not at all like the childlike cat he’d fallen for at first sight, when he’d seen the small cat asleep, curled up in the cramped cage at the auction house. It’s a little alarming, but not at all unpleasant.

“The grass feels so nice and cool,” comes a soft, purring voice—also nothing like the shy voice Rai expects. “I think you should come relax with me a while.” Rai feels small hands grab the collar of his shirt and give a surprisingly powerful tug. “Come on, take a load off.”

The larger cat nearly loses his balance, not expecting that sort of aggression, and he ends up atop of the smaller cat, straddling him, his face inches away from that warm gaze. His silver hair brushes over the small cat’s exposed collarbones and the top part of his chest. His yukata has slipped off his shoulders—was that deliberate? Is he taking off his clothes??—and he feels the smaller cat squirm beneath him, as the curtain of long, silver hair tickles him.

No—it’s definitely not a squirm. When this cat is tickled, his squirm feels like he’s trying to get away, trying to escape my touch. But Konoe isn’t moving like that now. This is more like a shudder or a shiver, and he ends up moving closer to Rai—he’s most definitely not trying to escape. And accompanying the movement is a sound—somewhere between a giggle and a sigh—filled with a beautiful longing. This cat’s voice does something to my ears.

Rai’s judgment is starting to cloud over from the scent of catnip surrounding them—I have to get him out of here—we can’t do this here—not now, not tonight, not with that injury—not with the brand that he has because of me. So he tries to stand up—but again comes the longing sigh, which pulls all of Rai’s attention. With it, the smaller cat’s body—the lower half, the parts not pinned beneath his—pushes up against his body in a serpentine wave.

Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it. The thoughts race through Rai’s head before he can stop them, as he mercilessly crushes Konoe’s lips against his own, pushing his lower body to the ground. He can feel and hear that sigh turning into a breathy moan in his mouth. This cat learns quickly, by the gods—and wow, I’ve got to remember he responds so well to catnip for future reference.

His tongue invades Konoe’s mouth, while Rai reaches his hands into pale gold hair and then to the silk scarf around his neck. He hardly feels a difference in texture between Konoe’s soft hair and the silk chiffon. Rai takes the ends of the scarf, and pulls it, pretty hard—and rather recklessly, considering it’s wrapped around the smaller cat’s neck. Konoe loses his ability to breathe for a moment and wheezes slightly—also into Rai’s mouth—but he doesn’t fight—and the fact that he’s submitted to Rai’s action is an incredible turn on. Thoughts start running wild before he can stop them: Doesn’t he realize he’s put his life in my hands by letting me play with him like this? But it’s obvious to Rai that the risk is highly seductive to the younger cat as well—at least from what Rai can tell from the younger body’s response, anyway.

Rai moves his body on top of the smaller cat, trying not to squash him against the ground when he hears a sharp intake of breath he instantly recognizes as pain. The sound snaps the older cat back to reality—out of the catnip-induced haze—and he jumps to the side.

“Did I hurt you?” Rai speaks lowly, his voice still sounds husky, not quite back to normal.

“I’m fine,” comes a small confused voice. “Just, I think I dragged my leg against the ground—“

“Ugh—the brand,” says Rai. “I apologize. I couldn’t resist, and I lost control for a moment, even after I said I’d leave you be till you were healed. Come. Let’s get you back to the inn.”

He’s on his feet in an instant and scoops the smaller cat up in his arms.

“Er, um—hah!” A gasp is squeezed from his chest as he’s pressed against Rai. “I can walk!”

“I know. Just... let me.” He feels Rai’s nose in his ears, nuzzling around softly, gently, apologetically.

They head to the inn, up the stairs, and to their room. Rai places Konoe on the bed as if he were something delicate, but he doesn’t meet his gaze. He gently pokes around in Konoe’s hair and ears for a few moments—oh, it’s the earring! He’s looking at the piercing!

He hears Rai’s soft voice. “I’m going to check your wound. The one on your leg. Lie down.”

Konoe complies, embarrassed—and realizes he’s unsure of what happened in the forest. He feels like he lost some time. They were walking home, and he wanted a drink from the stream—he’d been feeling so good—but then what happened?

He feels something tickle the back of his legs—soft and silky—it must be Rai’s hair, as he’s leaning down to inspect the wound—does he have look that closely? Konoe feels a blush budding in his cheeks, but he stays where he is, remaining very still. Well, it is long hair, after all.

Suddenly, he feels something warm and damp on his leg—it’s not cold, so it can’t be water from the basin. Plus, he hadn’t noticed Rai getting up. Uh—um. What is that? It feels a little rough, too—like... well—it kind of tickles, but that can’t be what I think it is, can it?—

“Ouch!” Konoe yells, as whatever-it-is directly touches the brand. He squirms to get away, but powerful hands hold him down—one against his ass (oh my god—don’t grab me there! It is not a handle!), the other behind his right leg below the wound. “Ow--shit!—stop—what are you—stop! Ouch! That hurts-sss!” The last word turns into a hiss.

Is Rai licking me? With his tongue? He’s fucking licking me?! What the hell?

The pain stops for a minute, but the weight pressing against his body doesn’t ease up.

“Stop struggling, and don’t tense your muscles like that. It’s pulling your skin unnecessarily, and that will make this hurt more than it needs to. Relax. This is the best method to help with healing. Just bear with it. You’d do it, yourself, if you could reach. So just relax your body.”

“W-what? I can’t, it feels weird. I don’t need you to do that!”

“Listen, you are my responsibility, and I want you to heal as quickly as possible. Shut up, and bear with it. It can’t be helped that it feels strange.”

The strange licking sensation starts again, and Konoe starts squirming helplessly, the panic rising in earnest now.

Rai's voice has a threatening edge to it. “Look, do you need me to make this easier for you? I can take away your choice if that is what you require. Because this is going to happen one way or another.”

Konoe gets an ominous feeling. Before he can even blink, Rai tears the yukata from his body, grabs the scarf from around his neck, and ties his hands behind his back.

Konoe gives a little yelp—but being naked is worse, and having his hands restrained makes him want to struggle even more. Honestly, his reaction comes as a surprise to Rai, based on Konoe’s actions in his catnip-induced frenzy, when he submitted and responded even enthusiastically to restraint. Of course—the incense is no longer floating in the air, but could his proclivities vary so much, hazy conscience or no? Maybe the young cat should be a little more honest with himself.

Rai really is trying to help the healing process—the medicine man he visited this morning spoke of licking the burn several times daily to increase the healing speed. And of course, Konoe can’t do it himself, because of its location. Rai doesn’t mind the particular location, or having to care for it himself: he quite enjoys this tender part of his small companion, in fact.

He is nervous about putting to much pressure or emotional strain on his companion so early on in their relationship, however. From what he’s gathered, during the first few weeks, while he should be firm with Konoe, he should work on building trust. Especially because of the younger cat’s age, his probable hardship(s) in life prior to capture, and the traumatic capture itself, the less violence used during the first month, the better. He would start training and discipline later. He could make use of professionals if behavior modification was necessary. But it seems strange how much the small cat is fighting him, and over this.

“Hey,” Rai stops for a moment, restraining the small cat’s kicking feet. “Calm down, and get a hold of yourself.”

He moves the length of his body over top of Konoe’s back, keeping his bound hands held loosely in one of his hands. Bringing his lips to the smaller cat’s ears, and running his other hand through soft hair, he whispers, “Take in a few deep breaths. Calm yourself. I’m not trying to hurt you.”

When he feels the cat beneath him inhale deeply, he soothingly combs through Konoe’s silky strands of hair and smooths them down. “When you get a burn, the best treatment is licking it several times daily. Isn’t that what Ribika do, or am I wrong?”

He feels a frustrated huff, and then hears, “But I don’t need you to do this for me.”

“Oh?” Rai moves to the side. “You can lick your own wounds, can you?”

“Yes. I’ve lived alone for a long time, and I’ve always done this. I don’t need any help from you.” The smaller cat is turned away, facing the wall. He sounds so very young. So young, in fact, that Rai feels a pang of guilt, having him lying nude in the bed next to him.

“All right, I’d like to see you.”

“What?”

“Lick your wounds.” Rai is down to the point, trying to sound matter of fact. He has released Konoe’s wrists. “I want to see you lick this wound.”

“Why?”

“... Humor me.” Rai struggles to keep the smile off his face. “Licking it several times a day will promote healing, right? So go ahead.” He turns to his stomach, props his face up in his hands, watching expectantly.

Konoe seems confused for a moment, and he’s realized he’s naked, and he doesn’t want to comply and risk exposing his body any further. A blush is rising—Rai can’t see his face, but his ears are pink.

Rai can’t help himself—he leans over and gives one of those adorable, fluffy, pink ears a sound lick. “Don’t be shy. I made sure not to light any lamps tonight—the only light is from the moon at the window.” He lowers his voice a little, making it suggestive. “You look good in moonlight. Besides, I won’t see anything I haven’t already seen.”

In response, Konoe makes a flustered noise and snaps his head around to meet Rai’s gaze, in what he supposes is an angry glare. It ends up looking adorable in the dim light, his fur all fluffed up like that, his face indignant.

Rai smiles now, genuinely and gently. “Go on. Show me how you can tend to your wounds better than I can.”

Konoe stubbornly sits up in the bed, using his tail to strategically hide anything he doesn’t want exposed—it works surprisingly well when it’s all fluffy and cute like that, Rai notices—and then the small cat bends in half, trying to reach the back of his thigh. As soon as he starts, however, Konoe realizes he may have spoken too soon before he thought things through carefully. There’s no way he can reach the brand himself.

Ribika are not built to lick the backs of their legs. Perhaps their four-legged ancestors could, Rai supposes. He’s impressed—Konoe sure is giving it his best shot—his tongue is surprisingly long, his body intriguingly flexible, but he just cannot reach. He looks ridiculous.

“Stupid cat,” Rai sighs. Konoe still refuses to give up. Rai brings the suggestive tone back into his voice. “If you wanted to watch so much, you only had to ask.”

His remark causes Konoe to look up from his efforts in surprise when Rai snatches him up in his arms once more. He drags Konoe toward him on the bed, lying on his back this time, pinning his right leg against his chest. The smaller cat lets out an indignant squawk, but that won't deter Rai.

Once his right thigh is pinned in place, Rai pushes his body weight against the smaller cat and hooks Konoe’s right knee over his shoulder. He smiles at Konoe—a friendly smile at first, but it turns devious when Rai lifts his eyebrows slightly—as the licking begins anew.

Now, Rai keeps his eye open, locked on Konoe’s, while he’s dragging his wet tongue across and all around the brand on the back of his thigh pressed against his chest, licking his lips lasciviously in between strokes. The sensation is completely different—the pain isn’t what it was since Konoe can’t tense the skin around the wound with his leg trapped like this. Plus, he is terribly distracted. At times, Rai’s tongue wanders a little too far inwards— between Konoe’s legs—which turns him a deeper shade of red.

The new position is both humiliating and embarrassing, and Konoe is completely flustered. But he finds he cannot look away. That pale blue eye is studying him, watching his reactions, calculating his next move, teasing him. Especially when he feels Rai’s lips dragging against his skin—they are so soft compared to his rough tongue—a small sigh escapes his lips—he can’t help it—and he sees Rai’s mouth curve up in a sly smile.

He is mortified, tantalized, and enchanted at the same time. Sometimes, he feels that tongue slip down lower than it needs to—toward his sit spot, where his leg and butt meet—and he shivers uncontrollably. His body is obviously responding to Rai’s touches—it’s healing, all right, but not that kind of healing...

At first, he tries to struggle, but he can’t move under Rai’s body weight. He wants to protest, but he can’t form the words. Does he really not want to protest? Why isn’t he fighting this more? Come to think of it, what exactly is that sound coming from him right now? Is that another sigh? Am I purring??

Gods, what are my hands doing? Konoe’s hands have reached out to comb through the shimmering silver mane brushing against his body, making him feel things he shouldn’t feel, remembering things he shouldn’t remember from two nights ago. Isn’t he supposed to be taking it easy this evening?

His breath is coming faster, his body feels hot, and his head strangely starts to ache. But then, Rai slows down his attack. He looks up into Konoe’s eyes, his hands caressing his face softly. Konoe hears his heart pounding in his ears.

“I love your enthusiasm.” Rai’s voice sounds oddly strained and husky, which only sends more blood coursing into Konoe’s hips. “I really do. But I think we need to take it easy on your body tonight.” Rai’s eye seems to be searching for something in Konoe’s face. “I don’t like leaving you all worked up like this, though.”

“Wait—leave me? You’re leaving?” Konoe returns to his senses with a jolt.

“Yes.” Rai doesn’t sound pleased. “The lord of Ransen asked me to take care of an urgent matter.”

“What urgent matter?” Konoe repeats, his tone falling slightly.

“I’ll only be gone several days,” Rai smiles softly, his voice gentle. “You will be well looked after.”

“Can’t I come with you?”

“This is no place for companions.”

“I’m a cat of Karou,” Konoe insists, sitting up for emphasis, forgetting his current state. “We learn to fight at an early age, and I’ve been caring for myself since I was very young.”

“I know,” Rai teases gently. “You just showed me how well you could lick your own wounds, don’t you remember?”

This earns him an angry glare, but Rai just smiles.

“Only because we are just getting to know each other, and you’ve got some recovery ahead of you,” he continues. “In the future, I intend to keep you with me, always. During our first year, there are... regulations to follow.”

Keep me with him always? Those words send a surge of gentle tenderness deep into Konoe's chest. Rai caresses the smaller cat’s ears, pulling him close.

“Regulations?” Konoe’s voice sounds strangely small, but he is undeterred.

“Indeed. There are things I may and may not do with you as a companion—for your safety, mostly.”

“My s-safety?” A slightly fearful stutter this time.

“The administration doesn’t want companions to be used for fighting, which is why you’re not permitted to come along. Don’t worry, little one. You’ll be in good hands.” Rai drops a kiss on the ears below him. “The lord of Ransen himself has volunteered to take you in while I’m... away on business.”

Konoe wonders if it’s a bounty, and if so, what kind. He’s always been a capable fighter, and he thinks he could help. However, he admits, he was caught by those bandits it the forest. Plus his strength isn’t up to par right now. He wouldn’t want to slow Rai down or be a hindrance. He struggles with feelings of inadequacy and doesn’t want to be “taken in” by anyone.

He must have stiffened up in Rai’s arms because he feels a comforting hand on his shoulder. Rai whispers in his ear. “It’ll be a few days, one week at most.”

The whisper startles him, and he jumps.

“I’ll hurry back—I have you to come home to, of course.”

Hearing his sultry tone, Konoe feels desire pooling in his belly. He doesn’t understand his body’s response: Rai is his owner—the cat who bought him—and yet, he feels an instant, deep physical attraction and near-desperate desire for him—so overwhelming it makes him crazy. Will I really have to wait a whole week?

Konoe hears a sharp intake of breath from the large cat holding him, and the hand caressing him freezes. Confused, as well as a little nervous, Konoe peeps his honey colored eyes out from under his bangs. What just happened? Did I do something wrong?

“What did you say?” The deep voice is husky again.

“What?” Konoe is confused. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh yes, you did. But—did you just say what I think you said?” A strangely hoarse voice comes from Rai. He has a mischievous smile on his face and is peering down at Konoe.

“Huh?” Konoe is utterly confused and feels a slight fear tightening his chest. “What are you talking about?” He really hadn’t said anything.

Konoe feels arms snaking around his body, around to his back. “I just heard you say, and I quote, ‘Will I really have to wait a whole week?‘“

“Eh? No!” Completely flustered, an incomprehensible utterance drops from Konoe’s mouth. There’s no way he actually said that out loud! It was just a thought—and a very private thought at that! He’d never say something like that out loud!

“You’re adjusting to the companion lifestyle much more quickly than I’d imagined,” Rai continues, his hands wandering a little further down Konoe’s body, coming to rest on his buttocks. “I’m so pleased to hear you’ll miss me!”

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” Konoe protests. “I really didn’t! It was just a-a private thought.” He can feel himself blushing, and he can feel his ears heating up. Rai notices that the furry brown tips turn almost purple when he’s really embarrassed.

“And a wonderful, bold thought it was, too,” comes a murmur—Rai is now distracted by Konoe’s chest, casually taking a nipple into his mouth. Wasn’t he planning on giving his cat a break this evening? What was he going to do with him?

Pleasured sighs escape Konoe’s mouth, but he struggles to push Rai away. I shouldn’t indulge in this. Even if I won’t be seeing him for a while, I can’t be exposing my feelings to him like this. This isn’t what I want—I feel like my body is betraying me—and again, more weird sounds are coming out!

Rai notices the smaller cat fighting his desire, and he looks up at Konoe’s face, his hair cascading over the smaller cat’s body.

“Don’t fight your feelings. That will only make you feel worse,” his voice murmurs, low and husky. “Mating season is around the corner. This is your body responding to the natural hormones of the season. Didn’t you learn what to expect, back home in Karou?”

“Hormones of the season?” Konoe echoes. “I don’t understand.”

“How are you feeling right now?” The pale blue eye is earnest, searching Konoe’s face. “Isn’t your body abnormally hot? Doesn’t your head hurt? Doesn’t your fur feel like it’s being rubbed the wrong way? Don’t you feel weak? Aren’t your ears ringing?”

How did he know? Konoe gasps in amazement. It’s like he’s reading my mind! “How can you tell?”

“These are symptoms of the heat when your body is at its peak. Mating season happens twice a year, and one of these lasts about 14 days, starting around Antou.” There’s a short pause. “A pair of cats often go into heat at the same time, if they are compatible.”

Wait—was Rai experiencing symptoms as well? Konoe looks at Rai more carefully. He can feel Rai’s strong heartbeat, pressing against his stomach—it is faster than usual. And his large body is definitely warmer than it felt last night. Was it even possible for two males to be compatible? Could Rai tell they would be compatible when he was… at the auction house?

“There is a way to... reduce your symptoms,” Rai pauses again before continuing, keeping his eye on Konoe. “Didn’t you feel much better, after our first night’s… activities?”

Konoe feels the blush return, and it creeps back into his ears. Rai can’t help reaching out to touch one. Ever so gently, he gives it a soft caress and feeling the soft downy fur inside, which has so much blood rushing through it that it’s turned a lovely pink shade. It suits the smaller cat, accenting his eyes with a rose-gold hue. He looks so innocent, Rai marvels.

Konoe actually did feel much better after that first night—but he assumed it was because the drugs he’d been given had run their course. “Wasn’t it because of the drugs? I mean, I assumed it was because I’d been given catnip and other drugs.”

“The catnip definitely increased your symptoms,” Rai admits. “But hormones were involved, too.” Rai continues running his hands through his soft silky hair and around his ears. The ears sometimes flick away, as if resisting his touch, but he ignores their resistance. “Last night, I wanted to make sure you got some rest, so you could heal. I was planning on that for tonight and the next few days as well. However, I wasn’t expecting to leave tomorrow, and you look so very uncomfortable right now.”

Rai moves his hands from Konoe’s hair and cups his chin, tilting the small face toward him. Konoe’s warm honey eyes meet his icy blue gaze. It’s strangely captivating.

“What do you want me to do?” Rai’s question is soft and earnest. “I can relieve your symptoms. Is that what you want, or do you just want to rest?”

Rai watches as the blush on Konoe’s face deepens slightly. Konoe doesn’t know how to respond, but he doesn’t look away. Rai’s offer is strangely tempting, but he’s afraid. He simply remains silent, at a loss for words.

“Let me make it better. You won’t have to lift a finger.”

Those words take the younger cat’s breath away, and his heart makes a giant leap. Who is this silver cat, to say things like that? He hears his pulse thumping in his ears—it’s so loud he’s afraid Rai will hear it, too.

“You,” the silver cat orders quietly, sending goosebumps down Konoe’s spine to the tip of his tail. “You lie back and close your eyes.”

Konoe feels a hand press against his chest, and he obediently lies back on the bed. He has to, actually, since all his strength has left him. He couldn’t refuse, even if he wanted. He closes his eyes as if closing them might also make him invisible to the cat before him. A deep embarrassment comes over him, and he feels that same blush creeping down his neck and chest. He’s completely exposed, leaving himself vulnerable to the silver cat above him.

Rai blankets his chest with kisses, from nipples to stomach—he can feel soft lips and that rough tongue leaving a trail—alternating tender kisses with gentle nips (with teeth!) against his skin. Keeping his eyes closed heightens his sense of touch, and desire continues to pool heavily at his waist. Blood rushes to the area—his ears pounding, his thoughts growing hazy, his reason fading.

Konoe tries to remain still, but he isn’t sure what to do with his hands. He runs them through Rai’s hair, the long silky strands that tickle his stomach, touching even softer fur of Rai’s ears. He suddenly feels a surprising wet and warm touch enveloping his cock—it’s both thrilling and suffocating—and almost too much. He cries out in pleasure and alarm—a noise he doesn’t recognize gushing from his body. He presses the back of his hand against his mouth to suppress the sound, but cries continue to leak out without restraint, control, or permission.

What was happening to him? A vision flashes through his mind—the strangely exotic cat, looking back from his reflection in the mirror at the marketplace—and how these strange, lewd cries could definitely belong to that cat. He feels a sudden stabbing sense of shame—but just as suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted by another new sensation.

Rai’s hand grabs his shaft, hard. His lips surround him, sliding up to the tip of his cock, where his tongue licks his slit—and not at all gently. Konoe melts—he can hear the cries change to provocative moans, and his hips rock up against Rai—moving on their own with the touch, and he can’t catch his breath. There’s a deep purr coming from the back of his throat he can’t control, and his body is moving without his consent. He doesn’t recognize his own body or the sounds radiating from him.

Lewd, wet, slurping sounds, heavy breathing, an occasional hum, and a low purr—almost a possessive growl—come from Rai. The more Konoe hears them, the lewder they sound. The less he wants to hear them, the more they excite him. The more excited he gets, the more liquid drips from his dick, which adds to the slippery sounds he doesn’t want to hear. My ears are getting fucked, and I think I like it—the thought scandalous.

He realizes that Rai—his owner, his master, the beautiful silver-haired cat, the majestic, too-successful bounty hunter—has willingly filled his mouth with his slave’s cock—for the sole purpose of making him feel good. Even more blood rushes to his dick and simultaneously into his brain. Can blood rush to two places at once, he wonders foggily. Isn’t sex just a bodily response, or does it actually have more to do with the mind? How much of a sex organ is the mind, anyway?

Rai grabs the base of Konoe’s tail with the other hand, trapping his hips between them. The slurping sounds remind him of the kisses earlier in the day next to the stream—but this is more controlling, more intimate, making him feel more vulnerable. While Konoe is technically fucking Rai’s mouth, the sounds are fucking his ears. Being trapped between Rai’s hands and in the larger cat’s mouth—being pleasured by him—there is nothing of himself that isn’t accessible to Rai right now. He is wholly at Rai’s mercy—his body, his mind, his very soul. How did I get here, or, more importantly, why do I want to be here? Am I fucking Rai, or am I being fucked? Why is he doing this for me?

Those soft lips feel so good—the tongue running along the length of his shaft, Rai holding and rubbing the base of his cock firmly—and Konoe still can’t get enough air. He’s never felt pleasure like this—he’s being serviced by the cat who purchased him. He’s overwhelmed with the sense of touch, more overwhelmed with his current emotional state—and it takes only minutes to bring him to his limit.

“Rai—“ Konoe desperately sighs, between the bewitching guttural noises coming from him, “R-Rai-s-s-ama… I am… I am c-close…”

He tries to pull away, but he can’t escape the firm hold. Rai increases both strength and speed, gripping the base of Konoe’s tail more firmly, rubbing the fur backwards, pulling it hard, enveloping his entire cock with his mouth, allowing Konoe to fuck the back of his throat, encouraging him to move his hips using the hand pulling and pushing at the base of his tail.

The purr in the back of Konoe’s throat deepens, and he opens his eyes. He thought he’d feel shame like he did earlier, but he doesn’t. When he looks down the length of his body, he can’t believe the incredible sight: between his legs is the most beautiful face he’s ever seen. Silver hair is scattered everywhere—like someone has poured liquid silver over his naked body—and the strands glimmer in the moonlight. Through the mess of hair, he sees an ice blue eye, watching his face with a gaze that looks almost hot to the touch: it’s full of desire—for him. No one has ever looked at him like this. He sees and feels vibrations of the loud, low purr from Rai’s throat. He looks like a wild animal—a crazed beast enjoying its favorite treat. It takes a second to realize that he (or at least his dick) is that favorite treat. Just a breath of fear runs through him then—and again when seeing how much bigger Rai’s body is than his own. He’s at this beautiful cat’s mercy. That’s the thought that sweeps him away to his climax.

White flashes before his eyes—and his mind goes blank—an explosion of warmth and pleasure starts from his hips and radiates outwards. He doesn’t know if it’s the physical sensation of being taken into Rai’s mouth or the very idea that Rai is doing this to him that is the catalyst behind this sensory experience—but fuck it! From those radiating waves, electric jolts of pleasure shoot through his body in shudders, one after another—leaving him shaking and shivering, feeling like Rai has literally sucked every last drop of energy from his dick. He squeezes his eyes shut—he doesn’t dare meet the silver cat’s eye in this vulnerable moment. He feels Rai swallowing, gently moving his tongue along his now oversensitive cock for every last drop as if the liquid were something precious.

The experience leaves Konoe weak and shaken, shivering in pleasure, and in complete and utter relaxation, as well as a strange profound joy. The joy is an unexpected feeling of belonging. To his surprise, it brings tears to his eyes, and a sob rises his throat and sneaks out. Konoe is suddenly overtaken with emotion—shivering, naked, sobbing—making Rai jerk up his head in surprise.

“What…?“ Rai is at a loss. “What is it, Konoe?” He moves from between his legs and takes the sobbing cat into his arms. Has he made a mistake? Maybe he should have left him alone, let him recover like experienced owners had recommended? Horrified, a heavy feeling comes over Rai, as he feels Konoe’s hitched breathing in between sobs. Rai’s own heart feels like it’s breaking.

Only moments before, Rai witnessed something amazing: he watched the smaller cat come completely undone in his mouth and in his arms—watching him melt, succumb to pleasure, submit and respond to Rai’s touches—and did he ever respond! It was a scene he’d cherish for lonely the week ahead of him, and probably for his entire lifetime. He couldn’t believe how quickly this cat had offered himself to Rai—he couldn’t believe that tender vulnerability. But now… tears? Had something gone wrong? Or was this perhaps an extension of what he’d just witnessed?

“Did I hurt you?” Rai is worried. If he’d broken their trust so soon, could he be forgiven? Could he have misinterpreted what he’d seen in the younger cat’s face? Was he simply moving too fast?

“N-no,” comes the broken voice, still full of tears. To Rai’s relief, it doesn’t sound pained or sad. “I’m o-ok. I’m f-fine.”

“Why the tears?”

“I-I-I…” The small cat has his head pressed against Rai’s chest. Rai lets him take a deep breath, and tries to calm him by holding him tightly. He takes several deep breaths of his own, letting the small cat listen to his own slowing heart rate. After a short rest, he cups Konoe’s chin in his hand and tilts it upwards, so he can see Konoe’s eyes.

“Tell me. Why are you crying?”

“I don’t know.” The honey-colored eyes are still glazed with tears, but Rai is relieved to see the sobbing has stopped. Suddenly, words spill out like water. “I feel relieved, I think. I don’t know. I don’t want you to go. I’m confused. I shouldn’t feel like this. I don’t want to be owned—I don’t want to be a companion—and I don’t want to feel like this. I feel like my body is betraying me. I don’t know why I feel like this, but I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to be separated from you.” His eyes look glossy and wet again.

Rai can’t help it, but a smile crosses his face. He can feel his own tail thumping against the bed in wide arcs, giving away more than he'd like. So he squashes it under his own leg. Konoe is going to miss me? He's crying because he is going to miss me? And he doesn't want to miss me? He's still stubborn, still doesn't want to submit to being a companion--and he did just that and loved it. Rai tries so hard to keep from smiling. He doesn’t want his companion to think he’s making fun. He isn’t. He’s just so pleased. Smiling just can’t be helped.

“What? Why are you smiling? Do you think it’s funny? Are you laughing at me?” His small companion is getting upset. He can feel fury building within the small cat, his previously relaxed body now stiffening. Rai really doesn’t want this. He wants the small cat to continue to feel like he felt just a few minutes ago. How can he increase those feelings?

Instead of responding verbally, Rai leans down, holding Konoe’s chin, wrapping his other arm securely around the angry kitten, and kisses him full on the mouth. Rai tastes the sweetness of Konoe’s mouth—Konoe tasting something slightly bitter—and Rai doesn’t let up. He kisses Konoe deeply, not giving him a chance to breathe, invading his mouth with his long tongue, which he strokes firmly along Konoe’s. Konoe can’t help comparing the soft touch of Rai’s lips against his with how they just felt against his cock—and, irritatingly, he feels something in his lower half twitch. He also feels a purr in his throat—but he can’t tell if it’s him or Rai. He's strangely swept off his feet by this kiss.

When Rai finally pulls his lips away, he’s pleased. Konoe’s fury has dissipated. He’s looking at his feet, looking for something to pull over his body, trying not to meet Rai’s eye. He looks adorable.

“Are the symptoms of the heat better?” Rai asks as he lies down, pulling the smaller cat toward to him. He wants, more than anything, to groom those funny ears for a while. Of course, he wants more than that, but he will wait. He has a lifetime ahead of him with his companion--an entire lifetime--how did I get so lucky?-- and his companion needs rest. He pulls a blanket over the both of them, the smaller cat’s back against his chest, snuggled up in the perfect position for grooming.

“Mmm.” The soft hum and purr come from the cat below him.

Rai notices the slight pinking up of the white fur again, and he just loves it. I could groom these all day. “You get some rest. Sleep.”

He gets to work on Konoe’s ears first, just like he did yesterday. Konoe has a little trouble relaxing. Last night, he easily relaxed into it, but tonight, his ears are twitching wildly. Rai isn’t discouraged and keeps at it.

“Relax.” He whispers right into one of the ears in front of him. “This kind of grooming is essential for you right now. Didn’t you learn about it in Karou?”

“Essential how?” The echo comes back to him, and the ears flick back in attention.

“Yes,” Rai explains, keeping his tone patient, wondering briefly what kind of sheltered life this cat must have led, no one bothering to explain the bare minimum of mating season. Did he really have no one in Karou? It makes his chest ache a little. “When a cat is particularly sensitive, I’ve heard he might have worsening symptoms of heat if he isn’t… well cared for after sexual activity.”

“Well cared for?” Konoe huffs suspiciously, and tries, unsuccessfully, to move out of Rai's reach again. His arms are really long!  They simply reach out and pull him close again.

“I mean with grooming. Just let me do this. It will keep you from being uncomfortable tomorrow. And I won’t be here the next few days.”

Konoe seems reluctant and continues flicking his ears down disobediently.

“I’ll worry about you,” Rai says, suddenly turning Konoe’s face toward him, meeting his eye earnestly. The questions turn from demanding to imploring. “This is a small thing I can do for you. Won’t you let me? I have an instinctual urge to do this. I can’t explain it, and it's useless for me to fight this urge.”

Rai glances at Konoe’s ears with what Konoe can only describe as a hungry look. He meets Konoe’s eyes once again, with an urgent gaze. With that direct gaze, his honest request, and after what he had just done for him (his ears are going pink again), how can Konoe possibly refuse?

Konoe lowers his eyes, turns his back to Rai, and submits himself once again. Rai’s beautiful bushy tail arcs widely once again--shimmering in the moonlight, and again betraying his feelings of relief and happiness, much to Konoe’s delight. That was awfully cute. He usually hides his feelings so well. 

“You. Sleep.” The words are spoken directly into his ear, and they give him goosebumps. Konoe tries to keep his ears still and forces his body to relax. Once he starts relaxing, it comes naturally. He finds he is exhausted, and the grooming actually feels amazing. It feels… right. It makes him feel like he belongs, like he is home.

But somehow, at the same time, it is also strangely heartbreaking, and he can't understand why. When Rai switches to his pierced ear, the grooming changes to a more tender touch, taking extra care not to pull the earring, cleaning around it gently and thoroughly, and the back of Konoe’s throat tightens up. Inexplicably, he feels a tear slip down his cheek. He keeps himself from crying, however, and he stays relaxed—and at home—in Rai’s arms.

Shortly afterward, basking in the warmth of the larger cat’s body heat, enjoying the rhythmic sensations of Rai’s tongue in his hair, he drifts off to a sound, dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

The lord of Ransen owned both a mansion in town as well as an estate on the outskirts. Rai dropped Konoe off at the estate on his way out, and this is where he finds himself. When Konoe was invited into the castle and shown to his chamber, he sees this single room is larger than his entire home in Karou. It has a fireplace, ablaze with a welcoming fire—luckily, a safe distance from the bed, as he is nervous around fire and avoided them when possible. He currently welcomes its warmth, as the chilly room has such tall ceilings. There’s also a walk-in closet, private bath, a large four-poster bed covered in deep red linen and soft pillows that could sleep four cats of his size, and several cozy chairs. The floors and ceilings are dark cherry, giving the room an elegant feeling. I’ve never seen such luxury!

Rai had seen him to his room, much to his relief. Konoe is understandably nervous. Am I a guest? What will be expected of me? He doesn’t know if he should ask, and if so, who should he ask? He looks at Rai questioningly, his tail restlessly swaying back and forth.

Rai seems pleased with the room and noticing Konoe’s nervous behavior, keeps his arm draped around the smaller cat. In a soft voice, he says, “You’re going to be fine. Look at this place.” Meeting his gaze, he adds, “I’ll be back in less than a week.” Then, he leans down and kisses Konoe chastely on the lips.

Konoe isn’t excited about being here alone. Only the butler is here—he introduced himself earlier as Sebastian. He is a serious-looking, straight-laced cat with black hair, black ears and tail, and red eyes. He has a sophisticated accent Konoe can’t place.

Apparently, the lord is out at the moment, and won’t be back from his duties in Ransen till the evening. “Why don’t you rest in your room until this evening’s activities? Our companion coordinator will come by shortly to introduce himself.”

Rai takes his leave, and Konoe watches him depart. Konoe settles into the window seat, pulling a blanket off one of the chairs and covering himself up with it. He feels a strange pull at his heart, watching that white tail and silver hair disappear into the forest.

The view from his second-floor window is beautiful and peaceful—he can see the wind blowing playfully in the trees, and he feels comfortable and cozy in his chair. And he’s alone. Strangely, he can’t stop himself thinking of Rai—hoping he will be safe on his journey, that he will be back soon. And he misses him.

There’s a knock at the door, and Sebastian enters carrying a tray. He’s brought hot tea and some biscuits, which he serves to Konoe sitting at the window. Apparently, I’m a guest?

“You may want some light nourishment,” Sebastian advises. “The companion coordinator can be... enthusiastic.”

He gives Konoe a sidelong appraising glance, which makes him uncomfortable.

“You look his type.”

“Excuse me?” Konoe is surprised by the offhand remark. “The coordinator’s type?”

“Yes. Although I understand now why you sold for as much as you did.”

Konoe’s eyes widen at this statement, and he feels offended. Why am I really here? What are the expectations of me? "What do you mean?”

”I don’t mean anything,” replies Sebastian.

"Were you at the auction?” Konoe asks quietly, trying to hide the shame in his voice. Wasn’t there a single cat in Sisa who hadn’t witnessed the most shameful night of his life?

Trying to meet the younger cat’s eyes, “No, I wasn’t.” Sebastian smiles. Konoe looks up at him. “I just try to be informed for my master’s sake. It’s my job. Just... be wary of that companion coordinator,” the warning in Sebastian’s tone deepens. “He can be unpredictable.” With that, the butler leaves Konoe in even more confusion and concern.

The tea and biscuits are delicious, and soon take his mind off his nervous thoughts, however. The tea has an unusual flavor—it is light and sweet, and a little minty. He finds himself pouring a second cup. It’s warming him up from the inside, and he feels quite relaxed after drinking it, his eyes heavy.

He barely makes it to the bed, in fact. Once he crawls up, he realizes the sheets are soft and smooth against his skin—are they satin? So luxurious—I wish Rai were here with me right now to enjoy this bed with me. I think he’d look nice against this color—it’s a beautiful ruby red. I bet it would make his pale blue eye really shine...

Konoe finds himself a little surprised to be thinking of Rai like that, sprawled on the bed in the middle of the day—literally—it’s probably noon—and his body feeling heavy, his pulse racing in his ears. This feeling is familiar—isn’t it similar to how I felt before the auction? Was there something in the tea?

He hardly gets a chance to think much about it, because he ends up drifting off into a restless sleep.

Chapter Text

The next knock at the door wakes Konoe from his sleep, a feeling of dread coming over him. The person knocking doesn’t wait for a response and simply enters. Konoe can barely move from where he is draped drowsily among the pillows, but he can’t miss the frightening figure entering the room. He’s a tall, striking figure, taking long strides toward the bed, as though he owns the space, sauntering over to the bedside.

The figure has short silver hair, messy and soft, like fur, and strangely, heterochromatic eyes—one gray, one green. He’s dressed in a daring outfit, revealing dark skin and lean, defined muscles of his chest, torso and abs. His black leather trench coat hangs open, trimmed with exotic fur and feathers. He wears gray fur chaps and boots, finishing his look with black gloves, as well as various gold buckles and belts.

The strangest thing about him are his ears and tail. At first, Konoe thinks they are black. But the shape isn’t quite right—in fact, they aren’t ears at all. They look like... horns. Are those horns?? Am I still sleeping? And his tail has no fur on it at all—it’s black, smooth and wiry, flicking back and forth wildly. He’s wearing a utility belt slung low around his hips, which carries tools of sorts—an assortment of cuffs, belts and collars, a whip, and other items.

As the creature comes closer, Konoe also notices a tattoo on his stomach—it looks like an abstract arrow. To be specific, it’s an arrow pointing downwards, and Konoe finds he can’t take his eyes away from what it’s pointing at. The creature looks frighteningly well endowed, as well as currently aroused, even through his clothing, and a blush rises to the young cat’s face when he notices this detail.

When the creature sees him staring, a wicked smile crosses his face, and he displays a gleaming white teeth with large pointed fangs. Suddenly, Konoe’s mind starts to work through the fuzzy haze it’s currently trying to fight:

This can’t be the companion coordinator, can it? Is he the person the butler warned me to be wary of? This is not a cat! What is he? Could he a be a devil? There’s no way the lord of Ransen would have a devil working for him, would he? Where is Rai when I need him? I thought I’d be in safe hands, and this person is definitely not safe!

Konoe tries to shrink back, but he cannot move. He remains frozen in place, helpless to do anything. Before he knows it, the large creature is in front of him, perching next to him on the bed, taking a good look at him. He even reaches out to touch Konoe’s ears, just like Rai does in that comforting gesture. This creature’s touch has the opposite effect, however, and sends an electric shock into his body and a wave of excruciating pleasure down his spine. He shudders in spite of himself.

“What beautiful ears you have—and look at that,” his voice murmurs, deep with admiration. “What a response! The rumors about you are true indeed, Konoe—it looks like that white kitty did indeed get himself a good catch. But you and I are going to have some fun together this weekend.”

He offers an exaggerated bow to Konoe.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Verg, current companion coordinator of the Ransen estate. I also happen to be the Devil of Pleasure. I’m ever so pleased to meet you.” Those mismatched eyes look up at him lasciviously. “And do I ever have a week of fun planned for you! I can’t wait to get started. In fact—let’s start with preparing you for tonight’s festivities. We need to have you looking your best!”

Konoe can’t escape his grasp.

“No, I’m afraid this won’t do at all,” Verg states, putting his hands on Konoe’s yukata. “It’s fine fabric, of course, and it’s very… Rai. This castle’s lord won’t appreciate it, and neither will tonight’s guests. It doesn’t flatter your... assets. I have something more appropriate in mind.”

Before Konoe can process what is happening, Verg has untied his obi and has slipped the yukata off his shoulders. Instead of simply removing the robe, however, Verg runs his hands across Konoe’s chest, down his waist, along his sides, over his back, across his butt—almost as if trying to become familiar with his shape. Is he sizing me up? Measuring me?

Konoe’s body pulls away from the feel of his hands—they are shockingly cold, like ice, and much broader than Rai’s, he can’t help noticing. The touch isn’t intrusive, and is more exploratory, as though Verg is appraising him. The touch makes Konoe’s skin crawl, and goosebumps rise on his skin’s surface, following Verg’s touch.

“Hmm,” the voice is a low whisper, directed toward Konoe’s ear. “You’ll become accustomed to my temperature soon enough. In your current state, I should think you will find it quite soothing, in fact.”

“Current state?” Konoe can’t help his curiosity.

“I’m the Devil of Pleasure!” Verg exclaims softly. “I could smell your scent from three doors down! I know you’re in heat, and it’s your first time, too, isn’t it? You should be glad I’m here to help you!”

A surprised gasp leaves Konoe’s lips. His scent? Didn’t Rai say something about it? Did he stink? He starts to get a little self-conscious and struggles a bit more.

“Relax.” The voice is sultry, full of lust. “You smell amazing—it’s intoxicating and sweet—unlike anything I’ve smelled before, in fact. Why do you think you were invited here?” He turns to face Konoe now. “In fact, why do you think your owner was sent on that little mission this week? Do you really think it was such a problem it couldn’t wait a few more days?”

Konoe’s mouth falls open in surprise.

“Oh, yes,” he continues. “I saw you in the marketplace with that silver kitty, drooling all over you yesterday. Well, I smelled you first, I suppose. That’s when I gave the lord the idea to send Rai away. He has some crazy idea about honor or some other bullshit. I knew he wouldn’t refuse.”

A flash of anger rises in Konoe’s gut.

“I knew when I laid eyes on you—oh, when I smelled you, too—that you must have been the kitten who sold for that exorbitant amount. I’ve never smelled a cat like you before.”

Why did he know this? Genuine confusion filled Konoe’s mind. How did a devil know this? Could what he says be true? Wasn’t he a guest of the Lord of Ransen?

“Oh, you’re the guest of honor! Don’t you worry. Are you afraid?”

Suddenly, Konoe realizes he hasn’t spoken anything aloud. Could this devil be reading his thoughts? Fear creeps into a corner of his mind, especially with this devil sitting so close!

Verg laughs loudly. “You’re a riot, Sensitive Kitty! I’m going to have so much fun with you!” He gives Konoe’s ass a squeeze, and takes his mouth with his own, which is still hanging open in shock.

Unlike his hands, which are cold as ice, Verg’s mouth is burning hot. When his tongue meets Konoe’s, there’s a feeling similar electricity—like when he touched Konoe’s ear—that runs through his body, sending a wave of nearly painful pleasure down into his body and into his hips—it’s nothing like what he has experienced with Rai. This reminds him of the auction house, when he was high on aphrodisiacs, and it feels like he’s being violated against his will. He struggles to break free of the kiss, but he’s frozen in place.

He can feel Verg’s lips breaking into a smile against his mouth in response to his resistance, and he feels a slight humming sensation. It feels oddly pleasant. Plus, the pleasure he feels pooling in his body, against his will, feels good, too—and it brings a purr from the back of his throat, also against his will. When he starts to purr, Verg finally breaks the kiss, keeping his face close to Konoe’s, peering into his eyes. Konoe doesn’t know whether to glare at the green eye or the gray one.

“Ah, you’re purring! You purr with this kind of stimulation!? How adorable!” He cups Konoe’s cheeks in his hands. A short moment passes, and Verg gets a slightly thoughtful look on his face.

“I’ve got it!” He shouts suddenly, frightening Konoe and making him jump. “I know exactly what I’ll have you wear tonight. No one will be able to keep their eyes off of you. Wait right here!”

He suddenly stalks out of the bedroom, leaving Konoe on the bed. Honestly, he’s a wreck—and ashamed of himself. He knows that was a devil just now, who’d laid his hands all over him, and even kissed him. Plus, that damned butler had laced his tea with something nasty. But he still felt terrible, like he had cheated on Rai.

Wait a second. Cheating? Me, cheating on my owner? That’s ridiculous! My owner bought me! He paid money for me. And he’s left me here, in this gods-forsaken castle with a crazy fucking devil, who has been stalking my scent! Rai was tricked into leaving me here! Who cares about him?! I should be much more concerned with what will be happening to me! But Konoe can’t really talk himself out of his guilt.

Within just a few minutes, Verg has returned with an assistant. The assistant is a cat, Konoe notes thankfully, carrying a bag and wearing an apron. The cat has gray ears and hair, is medium in size, and does not meet Konoe’s eyes.

“Sensitive Kitty, my assistant here is going to help me prepare you for this evening’s festivities,” Verg’s eyes are sparkling brightly. “First, why don’t you slip into these?”

He is holding something in is hand—it looks like liquid gold, actually—and Konoe takes it. It’s the skimpiest pair of underwear he has ever seen, made from a shimmering gold lamé fabric. Unwittingly, a surprised sound comes out of his mouth, and Konoe’s eyes grow large. He looks at Verg’s face. He’s got to be kidding. I’m not wearing this.

“Oh yes, you are.” Verg is confident. “I’ll even give you a choice, my lovely kitten. It’s those... or nothing at all. And just so you know: we are expecting a full—and handsy—crowd tonight, so my recommendation is that you wear something on that cute little body of yours.”

Konoe cannot suppress his shock or embarrassment, and he just glares at Verg. He glances briefly at the assistant for help, but the assistant looks at the floor.

“I can help you put them on, if you like?” Verg says suggestively. He leans against the window, hands on his hips. “Don’t worry, I’ve got some wonderful accessories to coordinate with those. You’re going to be gorgeous! You won’t be standing around in just your undies!”

Konoe is surprised at how embarrassed he is to change—he really doesn’t want to do this, but he doesn’t see any way out. So, he slides off the bed—the side furthest from Verg, of course—and quickly changes into the tiny piece of clothing. It leaves nothing to the imagination—he realizes that in addition to having very little coverage in front, there’s barely any fabric in back, leaving his rear open to the air as well. What the hell? Is this what they call a g-string?

“Oh, wow, perfect!” Verg is impressed. “Now move that cute little ass over here and let’s get started!”

The assistant takes a jar out of his bag, and two paint brushes. Konoe suspiciously walks over to Verg and the assistant, because he doesn’t have a choice. Also, he notices that he acting strangely compliant. Shouldn’t I be fighting this a little bit more? What would Rai want me to do?

“Oh, I’m sure he’d want you to obey, young one,” Verg says, into Konoe’s ear. Konoe flinches away from the large devil, not realizing how close he’d been. “Owners often send their non-compliant, disobedient companions to me for training, you know. I’m an excellent source of help in these areas. For example, if one won’t lie still when it’s time to clean his brand wound.”

Konoe feels as if cold water was just poured over his shoulders. He glanced up at Verg’s face. How did he know about that? Did Rai send him here on purpose? Konoe feels a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Up you go!” Verg suddenly lifts him in his arms, standing the smaller cat up on an ottoman, between him and his assistant. “I sure do hear a lot of details in this line of work. Now. Just hold my shoulders if you feel unsteady, darling. This should feel pretty good on your hot little body.”

Konoe feels something cool brush against his back—and simultaneously, over his chest. Stunned, he watches Verg dip a brush into the jar, and apply long strokes of shimmering pale gold onto his skin. It looks like paint. They are painting him a very pale golden color. Are they painting me? What the hell?

“What are you doing?” Konoe asks. The brushes tickle against his skin—they feel cool and smooth, leaving delicious trails behind them.

“The color suits you, just as I thought,” Verg says. “Just so you know, I don’t usually prep guest companions at the estate myself. This is usually the assistant’s job. I just have heard so much about you, I thought I’d come see to you myself.”

There’s a short pause, while the brushes keep working. One has moved down to Konoe’s legs now, brushing the back of his thigh—the one without the brand—and a small sigh escapes his lips.

“I’m glad I did,” Verg continues with a smile, “as there a few finishing touches that I’d like to add myself.“

Konoe feels the brush scrape over his brand, and he winces—grabbing on to Verg’s shoulders tightly in response to the pain. The cooling touch of the paint actually feels soothing, once applied, but the application itself is painful. Verg grins at Konoe’s response, pleased to have Konoe reaching out to him, and whispers into his ear, “Sensitive Kitty, reach out to me anytime. I’ll be your support this week while your owner is away.”

Offended, Konoe immediately releases Verg’s shoulders and drops his hands to his sides, and also drops his gaze. He sees his legs are covered in pale gold, and they shimmer and sparkle in the afternoon light. It hardly looks like his body anymore. Curious, he touches the paint on his thigh with a finger, and it smears slightly.

“Oh, no touching,” comes Verg’s low voice in a warning tone. “We have to let it dry first.”

With those words, Verg touches up the spot on Konoe’s thigh with his brush and then, he roughly grabs the tiny fabric covering Konoe’s shaft and moves it aside. Verg pulls a strange sound from the young cat’s throat as he simultaneously pulls the fabric tightly into his ass crack. Konoe flushes a bright red as Verg exposes him.

“No—stop it! Let go!”

“Well, we’ve got to get you completely covered, right?” Konoe feels the cool paint, brushing over his stiff cock, and he gasps at the delightful sensation. “You know, just in case the fabric slips?” That isn’t only a brush he feels against him—there are fingers wrapping around him as well, stroking him, feeling up the head of his penis, appraising him, measuring his response, pressing into his slit. A desperate sigh escapes his mouth. Verg is staring directly in his eyes.

“D-don’t—Stop it!” Konoe begs. “D-don’t look-k at m-me!”

“The hell I won’t.” Verg’s voice is calm but sultry. “You think I’d take time out of my day for this, and do all this with my eyes closed? Ha! Aren’t you cute?”

Konoe feels the brush and hands moving towards his ass, covering every inch of skin that never sees the light of day.

“I really d-don’t think anyone is going to look there—ugh—“ Another strange sound escapes Konoe’s throat. “D-don’t t-touch—“

Suddenly, and violently, Konoe’s neck is twisted sharply when Verg grabs his chin, and his gaze meets Verg’s blazing eyes.

“You. You are not to order me around. As a companion, your job is to take orders, not give them.” The wanton voice is razor-sharp and threatening, daring Konoe to defy him. “I can make things extremely… unpleasant for you, should you disobey.”

Verg licks his lips, and his eyes wander down Konoe’s body—now covered in pale gold paint, thanks to his assistant’s help.

“On the other hand—I am the Devil of Pleasure, after all. I can also make things very pleasant for you. I can make you feel things you’ve never experienced.” His voice has a lighter tone now. He eyes Konoe hungrily. “I’d wager that at the end of the week, you’ll long to return to me, and try to escape that vanilla kitty who purchased you out from under us.”

Was he the other bidder? The realization shocks him. Does Rai know? If so, why would he have left him here?

“Oh, he doesn’t know. The lord of Ransen uses a proxy for all his bidding. It wouldn’t do to let all of Sisa know how many sex slaves—er, pardon—companions—the lord actually owns, now, would it? He certainly had his eye on you, and he was most disappointed when he missed out. As was I, of course. But this is the perfect opportunity for us to take you on a trial run. I’m sure we can borrow you as much as we like after this week.”

Verg runs his fingers through Konoe’s hair—splattering a little gold paint through the tips, leaving a little sparkle—and then continues, “When we return you, soft, willing, and obedient, to your master, I’m sure he’ll allow you to visit us anytime.”

Terror creeps into Konoe’s heart when he hears those words. What exactly was planned for this evening, anyway?

“Max, would you set Konoe up to dry? We can’t have him be messing up his paint now, can we?”

The assistant, standing behind Konoe, snaps something onto both Konoe’s wrists. It looks like they are black leather cuffs. The cuffs have leads attached—gold chains—they must be brass; they can’t be gold, Konoe thinks briefly. His arms are pulled behind him roughly, and then pulled upwards, quite hard and suddenly, making a loud clanking sound. The assistant has attached the other end of the chains to the ceiling—there are hooks and pulleys up there—at least two of them, maybe more, spread wide apart. Then, the ottoman is yanked from beneath his feet, and Konoe is suddenly suspended in the air. When his shoulders crack, he tries his best not to cry out in pain, and fails.

A matching collar is placed around his neck, as well as cuffs around his ankles. His ankles are bound to the floor, similarly to the leads on the ceiling, preventing any movement. It’s terribly uncomfortable—being suspended like that from his wrists and ankles.

Verg smiles, and says, “The paint should dry pretty quickly, and I don’t want you touching any part of yourself for a while.”

He comes close to Konoe, makes some general paint touch-ups, and brushes the soles of his feet—which tickles terribly. He can’t escape the brush.

And then he dips a smaller brush in the paint, and paints Konoe’s face carefully, slowly—stepping just close enough to press his body against Konoe’s hardening dick. Konoe feels a deep shame fall over him. He closes his eyes and tries to turn away, but he can’t escape Verg’s gaze or touch. At this point, his body is out of his control.

“Oh Kitten, if you think it’s out of control now, just you wait,” Verg murmurs. “You’ve gotta admit—don’t you enjoy the feeling a little? It feels good like this, right? Don’t you feel good? You want it, don’t you?”

Konoe’s eyes are shut tight, but he feels Verg’s hand palming his groin, outside the shiny fabric. He grits his teeth against a moan that is trying to escape. I don’t want Verg. He tries to will himself against wanting Verg—and that very moment, Verg laughs.

“Hey, let me help you out a little.”

Verg is able to control the contraption that Konoe is suspended from—much to his surprise and terror. His eyes open wide as his upper body is lowered, metallic clinking noises from the chains in his ears, enough to bend him in half at the waist—embarrassingly, nearly over Verg’s lap.

“I think you’ll appreciate my special finishing touch—this is just for you. Hang onto it till this evening, and see how you feel when the guests arrive. Open your mouth.” Verg presses something cold against his lips, and Konoe growls and shakes his head. He refuses to open his mouth. He will not obey this devil.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said, open your mouth. Are you defying me?” Verg’s voice is low and incredulous.

Konoe gasps—as he suddenly feels something cold on his backside. The tiny fabric of his g-string is moved aside, and he feels Verg’s freezing hand on his ass, between his cheeks. He growls more loudly, but still does not open his mouth.

“All right, we can do this the easy way or the hard way—and it looks like you want it the hard way. That’s ok; I like it hard, too.”

There’s a hard smack on his ass—Konoe jumps and yelps in pain—and then he feels something intruding in his most sensitive part—no warning—Verg’s long, icy finger invades his asshole.

“Arrgh—mmfph?!?“ Konoe yells. When he yells, whatever Verg wanted to put in his mouth is roughly shoved inside. It’s cold, solid, and has a foreign mechanical taste.

From his ass, he feels something weird—almost like Verg is depositing something hot inside with his icy fingertip—but that can’t be, can it?

“It can,” says Verg in reply. “And yes, I can read your thoughts, as long as they have a deep emotion attached to them. I’ve given you an aphrodisiac. It’s a special… trick of mine, I’ll say. It should make you more compliant, I hope. And hey, thanks for opening your mouth. I just wanted you to get this little toy wet for me. I thought it would be more comfortable for you that way.”

He pulls the toy from Konoe’s mouth and his finger from his ass and inserts the “toy” in its place. It goes in easily, much to Konoe’s shock—and whatever it was that Verg had done to him earlier was making his head feel fuzzy and strange, as well as adding a lot of lubrication down there—he can feel liquid dripping from between his thighs.

“Now for the fun part. Look here,” Verg commands. Konoe looks at Verg’s hand, in which he is holding a small black rectangular object with a button. “When I push this…” He pushes the button—

“Ah-haarrgh!?” Konoe gives a surprised squawk and writhes in Verg’s arms—he feels a strange buzzing sensation, right against that interior spot that makes him see stars. It feels amazing—not unpleasant at all—only incredibly overwhelming at the same time. Because there’s been no warm up, Konoe isn’t prepared for this kind of intensity. Besides, Konoe thinks, it’s Verg who is making me feel this way, which is what is preventing it from really feeling good.

Verg presses the button again, and the sensation stops.

“Hah—!” Konoe is relieved to have the vibrations stop. His legs are still shaking. Verg manipulates the hook and pulley system Konoe is attached to, forcing him to stand, but Konoe is more hanging than standing since his knees are so weak.

“See, we can have all kinds of fun with this little toy now. Whenever I want you to do anything, all I have to do is press this button—“ And he presses the button gleefully.

Standing up, the sensation feels even more intense—Konoe can’t move from where he is, but writhes in place, trying to escape the sensation, trying to close his legs, and he can’t help the noises escaping his mouth. At first, he feels embarrassed, but now—he only wants it to stop. Or he needs to come and release this pleasure pooling deep inside him.

Verg presses the button. “Isn’t this a wonderful little toy? If I wanted, I could turn it on and leave you here to enjoy yourself  for two hours till the festivities start. In fact, I think that is what we’re going to do.” Konoe’s eyes open wide with fear and desperation. Verg gives him a wicked smile and presses the button again.

Konoe can’t stand it—it’s too much to bear, and he starts begging.

“Please, n-no—I c-can’t—I can’t s-stand—I c-can’t.”

“You can’t what, Sensitive Kitty? You need to tell me what you want.” Verg is watching him, eyes glowing.

Konoe’s entire body is quivering—his knees weak. He wonders if his blush shows through the paint. If it does, I’m sure it looks ridiculous.

“It doesn’t. It looks beautiful, like rose gold. That’s why I chose this pale gold color for you, so your blush would actually show through, darling. It’s adorable. ... What is it you want? I won’t know unless you tell me.” Verg sounds like he might actually be amenable.

“P-please, won’t you t-turn it-t off?” Konoe hates the sound of his pleading voice, but he can’t help it.

“No, Kitty, I can’t do that. Maybe ask for something else. Isn’t there anything else you want? I mean, your body is looking a little…” And he gives a low whistle.

Konoe starts to moan quietly and sigh, and he’s having trouble forming words. “I c-can’t.” He also can’t reach himself, since his arms are restrained and spread so far apart. Otherwise, he would take care of things on his own. “I-I n-need…”

“Yes, you look needy. What do you need?”

“N-need to c-c-come.”

“You need to come what?” asks Verg.

Konoe looks at Verg, his face confused. Then adds, “P-p-please. S-s-s-sir.”

“Please, sir what?” Verg is very close to Konoe now, stroking his cheek, stroking his chest. Konoe’s cock is dripping obscene amounts of clear liquid on the floor, soaking through the sad excuse for clothing he’s wearing.

“P-p-please s-s-sir, I—“ Konoe is desperate, stuttering, shaking, tears dripping down his face. “I want t-to c-c-ome.” He finally gets all out the words, relieved.

“Nice job, Pipsqueak,” Verg says. “Congratulations. I’m so proud of you. I’ll most certainly reward you—but not until after the guests arrive.”

A sick feeling rises in Konoe’s chest.

“Now, I’m going to teach you a lesson, so learn it well. Your job is to please me, and do whatever I require, when and until I require it. Right now, I require you prepare yourself for our guests. It pleases me for you to wear that toy till they arrive. So that is what you will do.”

Verg leans down and gives Konoe a kiss on the lips. Konoe feels a spark of electricity running through his body at the touch, and his breath hitches in a sob.

This is torture. He can’t take this kind of stimulation—he needs to get this thing out. In fact, maybe if he bears down just a little he can push it out—he gives it a try, just to see if it will work—and Verg slaps his ass, hard—taking him by surprise.

“Hey!” Verg says. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? You’re disobeying me already! Give me your eyes.”

He grabs Konoe’s chin, and in the other hand, he grabs a riding crop from his utility belt and shoves it in Konoe’s face. Konoe flinches at the sight. Verg’s voice has turned low and dangerous now. “I would love to punish you, if you’d prefer. I saw what they did you at the auction, and saw you learn your lessons well like this.”

Konoe shrinks back in fear—as much as he can in his restraints, anyway—still shaking from the continuing vibrations in his body—he just needs that thing to stop—the slap on his ass still stinging.

“Maybe, just for good measure…”

“No, please—“ Konoe begs with a small voice—as he feels the pulleys adjusting again—bending him, this time a little less than completely in half, raising his near bare backside to Verg, legs spread precariously. “I won’t try to disobey—I’m sorry—I was just overwhelmed, but I’ll behave now, I promise—“

“Oh, you will,” murmurs Verg, running his hand over Konoe’s smooth ass, pulling on the g-string just a little. “Especially when I’m through with you here.”

The beating comes quickly and soundly against his exposed bottom—starting right against his sensitive sweet spot, which is still sore and bruised from the caning at the auction house. The buzzing sensation is starting to feel like a part of his own body, with each blow, the intensity of the vibrations seem to increase. He cries loudly—tears flowing, sobs wrenching from his body. His ass was exposed already, and his skin overly sensitive from being brushed with paint as well as being overly excited from the vibrations from the toy inside of him.

Some of the blows hurt so much they strangely approach pleasure, which brings Konoe to despair. He’s confused by his feelings, and he feels disgust when his cock stiffens painfully. His cries of pain are mixed with anger, fear, longing, and an incredible, insatiable desire. He’s terribly confused—and desperate for release.

“Please,” he begs. “Please.” His breathing hitched, he begs, close to his breaking point.

When the beating stops, Konoe is terrified to his very soul. He can feel that large hand cold against his ass—smoothing its way to his cock—and it feels delightful. Konoe is shamefully aching for that touch, would love that hand to jerk him off right now. But he says nothing. He remains still, compliant. His heart thumps in his ears. He tolerates the vibrations in his ass, which are driving him crazy, every touch against his skin making him jump. He feels like he might faint or vomit, and he can’t help the noises that come out of him now.

“Hmm.” Verg sounds more pleased. “Your compliance is much better. Let’s see if you can remain like this till this evening. I’ll reward you if you can. I’ll send someone in later to finish preparing you.” He’s brought back to a standing position, arms lifted and feet attached to the floor, both spread wide, his ears twitching desperately, helplessly, when he hears the metal clanking.

Tears flow afresh when the door closes behind Verg, Konoe’s ears flattening against his head hopelessly, his body in utter confusion: aching with pleasure from the vibrations inside, still stinging from the whipping he’d received.

Two hours? I can’t do this for two hours! I’ll go crazy!

Chapter Text

As promised, Verg sends his assistant in later to finish preparing Konoe for the evening. Konoe can’t tell how much time has passed—the afternoon light has vanished however, along with the setting of the moon of light. The fire has burned itself out in the fireplace as well, leaving the chamber quite chilly. Konoe hasn’t noticed the drop in temperature, since he’s dripping with sweat—as well as other fluids—and he’s hot from hormonal heat as well.

When the assistant arrives, he stokes the fire to flame once more, warming the room, before he gets started. He doesn’t speak to Konoe and makes very little noise in general. Then, he approaches Konoe from behind.

He has a hairbrush in his hand and grabs Konoe’s tail at its base without warning. Usually, when holding a cat’s tail, their weak point, you grip it lightly—you don’t pull or tug. Because it’s a sensitive part of the body, you always want to warn a cat before you touch any part of his tail.

Max, the assistant, firmly grabs Konoe’s tail at the base, without a word, and hard, and starts brushing the fur of his tail quite roughly. It feels like the assistant is brushing his fur in the wrong direction, which is a painful sensation for cats when they aren’t aroused, and excruciating when they are. It’s a completely overwhelming feeling for Konoe at this moment, who is painfully aroused—he’s been suffering for close to two hours with Verg’s toy, his cock painfully stiff and dripping, sweat dripping from his forehead and the rest of his body as well, all his fur fluffed out on edge. As soon as he feels a hand on his tail, he draws his claws—but, restrained as he is, they are useless.

Konoe immediately tries to pull his tail away—he’s overwhelmed with the sensation, and he simply can’t take anything else. Of course, being restrained, he can’t pull himself away—he whips his tail around as best he can, but his energy level is waning, and his efforts are listless.

He cranes his neck, straining to look behind him, and cries desperately, trying to get the assistant’s attention, hoping to garner some sympathy. “Please, Max! Please, stop!”

But the assistant continues the brutal treatment, not caring about how rough he is with the smaller cat, treating him as though he were a piece of furniture—as though he were merely an object—and not a fellow cat of flesh and blood.

Tears fall freshly from Konoe’s eyes. What have I done to Max, to make him treat me like this? Why does he treat me so harshly? I’m only a cat like he is! Doesn’t he see how cruel he is acting? And so Konoe entreats him again.

“Please, Max-san, I know you—ouch!—have—ah!—a job to—ahh—do, and I will—ah!—cooperate with you—ow!” Konoe hates the nasal sound his voice makes when it’s full of tears. “I’m only—ah!—asking if you—ah!—can use—ah!—a more—ah!—gentle touch—ow!—The way you—ah!—are pulling—ow!—my fur—ouch—ah—ha—it just hurtsss—ow!!—it hurts so much!”

Trying to talk only makes his crying more unintelligible with each pull of the brush. The assistant simply ignores Konoe’s pleas at first. Then, he takes a moment to look at Konoe’s face, meeting his eyes, and hits him twice with the brush as hard as he can, right on his mostly bare ass.

Konoe responds with a loud yelp—the swats with the brush sting, as he was hit hard—and tears prick his eyes. Why did you do that? What did I ever do to you? But more than anything, Konoe can’t understand the motive behind the assistant’s actions. It’s as though he is angry with Konoe.

Then the assistant moves to his hair and the fur on his ears. He is unnecessarily rough with his hair as well, pulling it harshly. He deliberately brushes the ear with the piercing, pulling on the hoop, which makes him flinch. Konoe tries not to make a sound, clamping his mouth shut, wishing he could cover his mouth with the back of his hand, but, since his arms are restrained, he can’t.

Instead, to quiet himself, he presses his mouth against one of his arms to suppress any sound, but he receives three additional swift swats when he does—even harder than the first two. They really sting—probably partly because Verg’s toy has made him so sensitive. These cause him to cry out loud, and he sobs audibly at these, more tears falling despite himself. He can feel his ass heat up from the blows, and he understands now that the assistant doesn’t want him to hide his face in his arm, so he modifies his behavior and holds his head straight to keep his hair easy to access.

This allows Max to continue his rough brushing, which he does—but even with Konoe holding his head straight, the assistant alternates between rough strokes through his hair with sudden smacks to his ass. He can’t tell what he’s supposed to be doing differently, so he just submits to the punishment helplessly. Each smack gets a bit harder to take, however, and he can’t help himself from crying out. He doesn’t know if it’s from pain, or if it’s because he’s hurt that the other cat is completely ignoring his plight.

By the time his hair is finished, his ass is burning, Konoe is sobbing, and tears are flowing freely down his face. Max leaves the room, without having said a single word—which makes him feel even more like an object. What have I ever done to him? I don’t even know him!

Given little time to recover after that experience, Verg enters. Konoe can tell it’s him, from the way the air is sucked up when the door opens—he doesn’t have to look up. He keeps his eyes to the floor, his breath still coming in uneven sobs. He can hear the clicking of heels coming closer, and his stomach turns over nervously, and he flinches away when the huge shadow looms over him. But his body starts to sweat more, and it seems his cock responds to Verg’s presence, even if Konoe feels disgust.

“Ah,” Verg sighs, “this is what I want the guests to see when they meet you tonight, Little Kitty. This is you on display at your best.”

Konoe feels a hand reaching out to his ears—freakishly touching him the way Rai does, but making him even more uncomfortable—and he hates the feeling—except, this time, when that electric shock runs down his spine, it goes directly to his hips and stays there, bringing forth an oddly sexual sounding sigh from Konoe’s mouth, making him sound like he enjoys the touch, and longs for it. It must be because he's longing for release.

The noise he makes shocks him, making him open his eyes wide—and it embarrasses him—and he turns his head away in shame. But he stops suddenly, remembering the assistant’s beating earlier when he tried to suppress the sounds he was making. Konoe looks to Verg in desperation, not knowing what to do.

“Oh my,” Verg is enchanted. “You don’t know what to do with yourself, do you? I’m sure we can get you some help.”

Fresh tears spring into his eyes, and Konoe pleads with Verg, “Please—“

But he only gets one word out, before Verg has removed the leads from the hook and pulley contraption, and attached a chain to his neck. His arms feel amazing relief, falling to his sides, weightless. He is pulled forward roughly.

“I’d love to fuck you senseless, right here and right now,” Verg whispers into his ear, sending both thrilling waves of anticipation down Konoe’s spine and chilling terror through this mind. “But the guests—we can’t keep them waiting! They are dying to meet you!”

He grabs the chain, and Konoe hears metal clanking in his ears as he’s lead toward the door. He passes a mirror on the way out—he knows it’s a mirror because he recognizes the Devil of Pleasure reflected in it—but he doesn’t recognize himself. There’s Verg, who has apparently had a shower and fixed his hair and added some gold jewelry to his revealing outfit—including a ring in his belly button Konoe hadn’t noticed before. He looks sexually attractive in a way that Konoe hadn’t noticed before.

Verg is leading a stunning golden creature by a large brass chain. While it’s a small, shivering creature, cowering by his side, he can’t deny that the small cat next to him is stunning. His mouth drops open at the sight, and he stops for a moment to examine the reflection, Verg pausing in admiration.

Konoe’s white fur is fluffed out, looking nearly as long and as lush as Rai’s, both ears and tail tipped with pale gold, not his usual brown. His eyes are a golden honey, open wide and glassy, probably from tears, but they look beautiful framed with mink lashes, standing out against the pale gold painted on his face. He looks nude—or nearly so—exotic and strange—really not cat-like at all, but more like a living statue of a mysterious ancestor from the past. The expression on his face, his body, his posture—it breathes sexuality—and it’s shocking. The shimmering paint on his body accents everything sexual about him—his compact body, his defined muscles—and when his own scent floats into his nose, he realizes he even smells like sex, too.

Verg’s gleaming smile is visible in Konoe’s view, flashing white in the mirror, and he gives Konoe a seductive look. “Don’t I know what looks best on you? You have to admit, this suits you much more than that boring yukata you were wearing for your owner. What do you think he’d do to you if you could see you like this? He wouldn’t be able to hold himself back, would he? He’d eat you right up.”

When Konoe hears those words, though he didn’t think it was possible—he’s been trying not to think about the silver-haired cat since that hateful toy was placed inside him—he feels even more blood flow into his stiff cock, making him shiver and shudder. Watching his own reflection react to the thought of Rai is such a strange turn-on—and he watches his nipples harden in the mirror, and tries not to look at the bulge in his underwear.

What is that creature in the mirror? That can’t be me. His knees are shaking. Another shudder runs through his body, and a sigh comes with it.

“I had no idea you liked that white kitty so much,” Verg says, looking at Konoe’s reflection in the mirror. Does he sound disappointed? “Here, I thought you were some young, innocent thing. I suppose I could have guessed. Hey—can I tell you a secret about the paint? It’s a specialty of mine, too.”

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he meets Verg’s eyes in the mirror.

“See how you shimmer like that when you move? Makes you look so sexy! When you sweat, it brings out your natural scent even more, too. God, you smell good! The paint serves to enhance your scent—it’s not your imagination. And one more thing—“

Verg leans down suddenly, and licks Konoe’s exposed throat, sending another electric chill through his body, making him shiver—he tries to back away from Verg—but he finds he can’t—and he doesn’t really want to, either. He’s in a desperate state.

“It enhances your natural flavor—your taste... sweet, like honey, just like your coloring, actually. And the paint brings it out more. I bet you wish your silver kitty could try a taste. Are you thinking about it now?”

Konoe is reminded of something about Rai—doesn’t Rai taste like honey? When he gives him those deep tongue kisses? A sense of longing and sadness comes over him.

Verg is staring at him again. He reaches out to Konoe’s ears. “Hmm. Strangely, I saw him doing this to you in the marketplace the other day.”

In the mirror, Konoe watches (and feels) Verg’s hand caress the tip of his ear—the one without a piercing, gently, carefully, just like Rai does—again! Has Verg been doing this on purpose, to make him feel more trustworthy? A spark of annoyance and anger rises in Konoe’s gut—that they’d been seen, and that Verg had been manipulating his feelings—but it’s quickly overtaken by the electric spark that shudders down his spine.

“See, Pipsqueak,” Verg says, sweetness dripping from his voice, “It pissed me off that he’d show you off like that in public. It’s like he was rubbing it in our faces—‘see what I have and you don’t?’ But you see—don’t you think my touch has something more to it than that boring vanilla kitty?”

He grabs the chain attached to Konoe’s collar and pulls him close. A small sound comes out of Konoe again—he can’t help it—he’s purring again, but it sounds messy and wet in the back of his throat—and he begs again.

“Please. Please. Please.” Isn’t it enough? He hates Verg. He hates feeling like this. But he needs release.

“Not yet, not yet.” Verg sounds impatient. He pulls Konoe out of the door and into the corridor. “Let’s go meet the guests. Remember? Do your job well, and I’ll reward you. Do it poorly—well, I think you know what will happen to you.”

Verg pulls him down the hall to a large ballroom, where two sentries stand. Before they open the door for them, Verg turns to Konoe, pulling him close.

“You’re doing very well,” he whispers directly into one of his fluffy ears. The compliment makes blood rush to his face and ears, causing a new blush to form, though he isn’t sure why. “I’m very proud of you.”

The compliment takes Konoe completely off guard and confuses him. He isn’t sure what it means or how to take it, but he doesn’t have time to think about it since the sentries are opening the door.

Verg enters confidently, pulling Konoe along behind him.

Chapter Text

The ballroom glows with low, soft light—high ceilings, large glass windows looking out to the garden, lit with elegant torches dripping with crystals. Cats dressed to the nines mill around in clusters—many wear masks, much to Konoe’s surprise. 

He’s still overly distracted by the feelings in his own body: Verg’s toy, which has been vibrating for the past two hours has made his knees weak and his entire body quiver and glisten with sweat. The golden paint hasn’t come off, however—in fact, the sweat adds to its sparkle and shimmer, giving it extra dimension. The discomfort of the vibrations has caused the fur of his tail to bristle as far out as it can. While Konoe can scarcely believe he is still standing, curiosity about these extravagant new surroundings is overwhelming, so he tries looking around. There’s a heavy mood in the air—an unfamiliar sensation—adding to the sensations pooling his body.

Musicians play on one side of the room for dancers on the dance floor. The music is something the likes of which Konoe has never heard—a deep booming base rhythm, too loud for the space, beating in time with his heart. The melody is sweet and meandering, tickling Konoe’s ears—making its way through his body, sending delightful shivers down his spine. He was already struggling to walk, and now—with the music—he’s struggling even more. What is this feeling?

There is a large banquet table along the opposite side of the room, piled high with delicacies of vibrant colors and beautiful textures. The smell of the food is mouth-watering—it looks like a real feast! As he looks more closely, he is astonished to find cats lying on the table—nude, or practically nude—posing as serving platters. Those can’t be companions, can they? I sure hope that position isn’t in store for me this evening.

They lie perfectly still, bare skin covered with food from head to toe. There is no movement, except for slow, and measured breaths. Shockingly, he sees a guest help himself  using only his tongue. The server remains perfectly still, not even making a single sound—despite the fact that his thigh has just been licked by a total stranger! He can’t imagine being in that cat’s position. A sense of dread rushes through him—combined with a rather horrifying sense of yearning. His thoughts are confused and muddled; he finds it difficult to tear his eyes away, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to watch.

Konoe can’t believe what he’s seeing—what is this place? This room itself assaults his eyes, ears and nose in the same way Verg’s toy is assaulting his body. Just as he puts this realization together, that damned toy seems to vibrate a little faster—and he glances up at Verg, who is leering down at him with a villainous smile. He has that horrible rectangular box in his hand—he must have had it in his pocket—and while keeping his eyes locked on Konoe’s, he casually presses the button. The buzzing inside him comes to a complete stop.

A sense of unbelievable relief comes over the exhausted young cat instantaneously—tears reflexively fill his eyes, and he loses the strength in his body, collapsing toward the floor. Of course, Verg foresees this and easily catches his small body in his arms before he can hit the ground.

“How do you feel, darling?” Verg asks, and Konoe would love to rip the smile off of his face. “That was amazing. You know, you really don’t hide your feelings very well, Pipsqueak. You’re pretty new to this scene, aren’t you? I wonder—do you feel things differently than most guys? Look at your body--and your fur--and your tail. It looks... amazing. At any rate—you’re already the star of the evening. Haven't you noticed?” 

Konoe looks up from Verg’s arms, body still quivering, and immediately feels his face blushing deeply, which creeps into his ears and chest. Is everyone in the room staring his direction? Why? Why are they looking at me?

“It’s difficult for people to look away from the beautiful, sexy and fascinating. And they could smell that wonderful scent of yours from a mile away, too. Ah, and yeah—I see a friend I just have to introduce you to.” Verg carries him along as though he is weightless, and places him on the floor before this other person. All Konoe sees is a long black coat with an attached cape. But when the person turns around, he finds he can't catch his breath.

The person before him is another devil. He has slightly pointed ears, deep violet hair, long black horns at the top of his head. But what is so breathtaking is his pale handsome face, chiseled cheekbones and his eyes, which glow golden in the dim light. His outfit looks severe, though contemporary to the current times. He wears fine black leather from head to toe. To Konoe, it looks like a battle-ready uniform, and unlike Verg, he doesn’t expose any skin—not even his throat or arms. Oversized buckles are the only trim used to adorn his look—also very unlike Verg’s excessively ornate appearance.

While Verg's presence is overpowering, who dominates the space wherever he walks, this devil emits a completely different aura. He wears an almost mournful expression, Konoe notices, and his presence is much more subtle. It isn’t exactly as though this devil is indifferent—but it almost seems as though he doesn’t wish to be here, and perhaps he doesn’t even wish to be a devil. Konoe feels a heartbreaking grief grip his chest when the devil’s beautiful golden eyes meet his.

Much to Konoe’s surprise, the devil’s expression lightens when their eyes meet, and his grief-stricken face warms, turning into something different. When he smiles, even his eyes smile—and his face is even more becoming.

“Kaltz.” Verg’s tone is low and husky, but can easily be heard over the music. “Look what I’ve brought for you tonight. Kaltz, allow me to introduce you to the companion I mentioned to you earlier.”

What is one supposed to do when you meet a devil? Konoe wonders briefly. But Verg makes it perfectly clear when he pulls Konoe’s chain sharply, forcing him to his knees and pushing his head down, so he has to look at the floor in front of the devil’s feet. He has no choice but to comply, bowing down before this new devil. Konoe feels some resentment building in his chest.

Truthfully, I’d sooner bow to him than to Verg. He just seems so much more regal and composed, I guess. More worthy somehow. From his position on the ground, and making sure to keep his chin pointed at the floor, Konoe can’t help sneaking a curious peek through his gold-tipped bangs at the mysterious person before him. He finds that face captivating.

His second furtive glance gives him a better view of the devil’s figure. At first, Konoe thought him much smaller than Verg, but that isn’t true. He is lean, where Verg is brawny. But he has some definite height to him, and he doesn’t lack muscle definition. In fact, his legs are powerfully built—and remind me of Rai’s. Konoe’s eyes, intending to sneak another view of Kaltz’s face, have gotten stuck on his legs—thinking surprisingly lustfully how they might feel under the touch of his fingers. Would they feel like Rai’s? How might they feel differently?

Suddenly, an inhumanly cold hand brushes against his chin, light as a feather, and gently tips his face up. Feeling like his very thoughts have been discovered, Konoe is flustered and accidentally lifts his eyes up to the face desiring his gaze. The contrast between the smoldering golden eyes, the pale skin, ultraviolet hair and black horns is magnificent, and is impossible for him to look away from—Konoe is drawn in like a bee to honey.

In a quiet voice, soft and gentle, but not at all weak, Konoe hears, “Oh my. Verg, you have outdone yourself. What do we have here?”

“A gift.” There’s a shift in Verg’s demeanor around this devil, Konoe notices. Listening to his words, Konoe glances to Verg in surprise, a new sense of dread, laced with fear, inching up his spine. After spending the past two hours with Verg’s toy, Konoe was now well aware that his status as a guest on the lord of Ransen’s estate was not what he’d expected. But a gift? What did Verg have in mind? Surely, Verg couldn't give me as a gift?

Kaltz studies Konoe's face, tilting it left and right. Then, he pulls gently on Konoe’s collar, urging him to stand. He continues his visual examination of him. Konoe is suddenly painfully aware of how little he is wearing—nothing but gold paint, a collar, cuffs, and a why-bother thong. He drops his gaze to the floor, becoming embarrassed and shy. In some ways, dealing with the distraction of Verg’s toy was easier, because he didn’t have to think about being self conscious about being nearly naked in front of nearly 100 people.

“A gift. For me.” Kaltz’s voice sounds beautiful in Konoe’s ears, but it’s still covered in sadness. “He is a beautiful creature. But why would you go to such an extreme? I know he isn’t yours, Verg.”

The devil reaches out to Konoe, and touches his shoulder, bidding him turn around. Konoe starts to obey—Wait—what am I doing? I’m obeying him? I shouldn’t just do this. I should resist. He’s actively appraising at my body! But before he can resist, Verg cruelly yanks his collar and forces him to move, so he’s turned around regardless of what he wants.

“He isn’t. But I’ve been given custody of him for a week or so. I thought you might be interested. And... it’s his first season.”

“Oh? Is it. I find it hard to believe you have been given custody of him, Verg. Are you sure he isn't in the lord’s custody?” The two devils are discussing him as if he weren’t a living, breathing cat, standing right there.

Now, Konoe feels that cold hand on his back, drifting down his spine—it’s a gentle touch, like a feather, and it feels almost painfully kind—and it drifts down the curve of his spine to his lower back and buttocks. Konoe can’t help giving a little shiver. He is enjoying the sensation, much to his surprise, and this makes him feel ashamed.

“Think about it,” Verg approaches Kaltz quite closely, pressing against Konoe’s chest. Konoe feels uncomfortable like this, and becomes extremely nervous. If Verg moves much closer, Konoe is going to be pressed between two devils. How on earth did I get myself into this situation? “You, with your unique gifts, are particularly suited to cooling down kittens with ailments such as his, aren’t you? Plus, with my... experience, I think we could have an interesting experience together. Don’t you think?”

Kaltz isn’t backing away from Verg, but he isn’t intimidated by him at all. He runs his fingers along the horizontal stripes on Konoe’s ass—those fading marks were left from the caning he received at the auction house.

“Hmm.” There’s a short pause. And then, directly into Konoe’s ear, he hears a honeyed voice—delicious and sweet, unlike any he’d heard before. “You poor thing. You were beaten. They left you nearly scarred. It was unjust. You were mistreated.”

Another hand—also ice cold—hugs Konoe’s chest, and a delightful shudder runs through his body. He can’t help the sound that escapes his mouth. He’s been trying not to allow a single sound to escape. He thought it would be a sound of surprise or complaint of the cold, but it doesn’t sound like that at all. It’s loaded with desire, sexual desire, and yearning.

“What a lovely voice you have.” Kaltz continues to whisper in his ear, moving the hand from his ass around to the front of Konoe’s hip, placing his finger under his underwear, making him sigh again, and shiver violently at the same time. Then, so quietly Verg wouldn’t be able to hear, “I would love to hear more of that voice. I have a weakness for voices like yours. I'd hate for you to suppress it in my presence.”

“Kaltz.”

“What is it, Verg?” His voice is very neutral, but Konoe senses a change in the way he is being touched. Kaltz turns Konoe around again, using his hips to control him. When Konoe stands before the blue and black devil, he is much shorter than Kaltz, but Kaltz isn’t as large as Rai. There's another slight pain in his chest. I need to stop thinking of Rai.

“Just watch him for a while. Watch… and listen. He has an amazing voice. He is something special. Give him a chance. Then... give me a chance. You won’t be sorry.”

“You’ve said as much time and again, Verg. Why would I be interested now?” Again, noncommittal, but Kaltz’s eyes have changed, and it frightens Konoe.

“Because I've brought you something from your past. I think this is what you need to help you overcome it. I'll help you. You will love it. I've seen a lot of beginners in my lifetime, and never anything like this one. I mean—here: watch this for a second.” Konoe hears a clicking sound before he feels anything—and suddenly—he feels it. Verg has pressed that damned button again, and the toy has started up. A noise, this one closer to a scream than a sigh comes of out of his mouth, and Konoe’s legs start to shake and lose power.

“Stay standing,” he can hear Verg order behind him, but the order doesn’t put more power in his legs. He can feel himself collapsing. Unfortunately, he collapses right onto Verg, who insists on obedience. “I mean it. Stay standing.” And he slaps Konoe's nearly bare ass, and Konoe immediately tries to comply—after crying out in pain.

“Nope, I don’t think so, you're too late. Now, it’s punishment. You learn so well from physical punishment, it seems. It will help you to remember next time you want to sit down when I tell you to stay standing.”

“N-n-no—p-pleasssse?!” Again, the last word ends in a hiss, as Verg bends Konoe over his knee slightly and spanks his butt hard. 

With each loud slap, Konoe can feel that toy moving inside of him--it moves against that spot that makes him see stars--and he feels his dick getting harder, pressing against Verg’s thigh. He cries out in pain from the spank—and in pleasure from the feeling of the toy against his insides—and in resentment and humiliation because he's so frustrated.

He’s also attracting quite a crowd, and there are about 25 cats crowded around them now, and more looking their way. He can feel his face flushing pink, then red, and then purple. He can see the deep plum color on his chest, showing through in a deep rose gold shade through the paint. 

Konoe struggles to close his legs, hoping it will hurt a little less—Verg is aiming for his sit spot, which is still sensitive from the hairbrush punishment earlier that day. Seeing his move, Verg gets annoyed with him.

"Pipsqueak, this isn't working for me. We're going to do this a little differently. I think I’ll set you up for the other guests’ enjoyment for a little while—he did really well for a private warm-up for me, earlier.” That last part was spoken to the guests around them, loudly. Then, a little more quietly—spoken directly to Kaltz, “Later, we can enjoy him on our own time, together.”

Konoe is terrified, his heart sinking, so he can't figure out why his dick is getting even harder. Also, he notices a slightly desperate tone in Verg’s voice.

“Well, he is a beautiful creature,” Kaltz repeats. “Just stunning. I’m interested in seeing how he entertains the other guests.” There’s a deliberate pause, and then he adds, not looking away from Konoe, “At least."

Konoe can feel Verg’s mood shift as the room lightens up. He is thrilled in an adolescent way that Konoe has never seen. “Then let’s get this party started, so we can hurry to the main event!”

Konoe feels a damp sensation on the outside of his ear—Verg’s tongue, which is much softer and wetter than Rai’s (why won't I stop thinking of Rai?)—followed by a loud wet sound and another damp sensation, deep inside his ear, which sends a shiver down his spine. Then, a soft whisper:

“You’re going to help me bag the Devil of Grief once and for all this evening, Pipsqueak! If you succeed, you’ll be worth your weight in gold. Now, let’s see you can do!”

Verg grabs the struggling Konoe, his ass burning, and drags him to the other side of the room, in front of about 35 other guests, the audience growing larger.

Chapter Text

“You’re going to stay right here, and you won’t have to move a muscle.” Verg is speaking to me in a calm, husky voice, but I think he’s thinking of the Devil of Grief while talking to me. I can’t concentrate with that damned toy vibrating and stopping like this—my dick painfully hard and dripping, my skin covered in sweat, my breaths panting.

It’s a good thing I don’t have to do anything, I think, since I’m unable to. I was terrified Verg might be angry when he grabbed my arm—he hasn’t touched me so violently before. It really frightened me. I furtively steal a glance at his face, trying to gauge his mood and see what he wants from me. I’m a mess of emotion, close to tears. I just want relief—I want rid of this damned toy and I want to come—I can’t stand this prolonged pleasure. It’s been hours now, it’s pure torture!

He’s brought me to a raised platform with a table on it. I’m backed against it, so I can’t see what it’s for, but I’m terrified someone is going to lay me on that table, cover me in food, and lick it off of me. I can’t even imagine. Verg’s face looks somewhat more humane than it has earlier in the day—my guess is he’s thinking of Kaltz at this very moment—so I take my chance.

“Please, Verg.” My voice is small, quiet, careful, pleading with everything I’ve got. “Please—isn’t it enough? Won’t you please remove this... thing? It’s... painful. It’s been in since this afternoon. Please. I just can’t take it anymore.” I hate the sound of desperation in my voice. I never thought I’d be begging like this—where is my pride?

He looks at my face, grabbing my chin with one hand, and suddenly takes my mouth with his own. When he does, I can feel the vibrations speeding up and getting stronger. How the hell is he doing that? I can’t suppress the pleasured moan leaking from my mouth into his. His body presses into mine, and I feel his terrifyingly large erection press against my torso—he’s so much taller than me, larger in both size and stature—a bolt of fear shoots through me in a shudder. What is going to happen to me? Is he going to fuck me to death? Gods, where is Rai?? Does he know about any of this?

His tongue strokes along the top of mine several times, and I try to relax, trying not to choke. He touches my fangs with his tongue as well, running it along my top and bottom teeth, and I just submit, trying to keep quiet and failing. When Verg’s abnormally long tongue finally finishes exploring my mouth, he pulls away, and I hear cheers from the audience gathered around us. I’m utterly ashamed, but my shame strangely starts slipping away—it feels like Verg has done something to me—maybe with that kiss? I questioningly look at his face, and he smiles down at me, stroking my ears in the way Rai does—Stop doing that, please!—but I lean into the touch longingly, instead of backing away, unable to take my eyes off him.

“You are the entertainment, little one,” he explains. “Even with my assistance, you seem to be having trouble submitting. I understand.” Turning to the growing crowd, he uses a loud voice to address the crowd. “Folks, our special guest tonight, our beautiful golden boy, is Konoe. He’s the famed companion who broke all sales records. Fortunately for us, his owner is out of town, and has loaned him to us for the week. And it’s this young one’s first heat! You all could smell him when he came in, couldn’t you?”

Verg grabs my chain, forcefully turning me around, bending me over the table with a frightfully practiced motion. I do not need to think about that. He pulls my arms out to the sides, attaching each wrist cuff to one side of the table, so my arms are spread out. I’m unable to move my upper body, except for my head. He secures my ankle cuffs in the same way to the legs of the table, spreading them apart as well. This is a humiliating position—my ass exposed to half the room, while the other half sees my face, since Verg has pulled my hair, lifting my head off the table.

He presses the button on the remote, and I experience that amazing relief again—and I accidentally let out a loud sigh, dropping my head back down to the table with a loud thump.

Verg is talking to the cats in the room, but my ears are ringing—they are full of blood and probably so red they are nearly purple. I can’t understand a word. I feel a lump in the back of my throat, and my eyes sting. I simply rest my head on the table, my eyes facing the wall, so I don’t have to look at the cats watching my humiliation. I try to swallow, forcing that lump back down, so those tears won’t escape.

This is worse than the auction, I think. Would I ever enjoy watching someone suffer this kind of humiliation? I can’t imagine I would.

Suddenly, I realize Verg is addressing me in an agitated tone. “Pipsqueak!”

He grabs my hair and pulls—damn, it hurts!—but I still have no idea what he just asked me to do. I thought I wouldn’t have to do anything—and in this position, what can I do? The fur on my tail is fluffed out and my tail is drooping lifelessly.

He turns my head roughly, so my eyes face the crowd. I’m stunned—it seems that every cat in the room is looking at me now. Oh—he wants me to face the crowd. I suddenly recognize someone. In the front row, I see Verg’s assistant Max in a rather risqué outfit—though not as revealing as mine—he is provided a top and a bottom, as well as shoes—next to a well-dressed portly cat wearing a mask. Max is wearing a collar without a chain, and I notice he has a pierced ear, with a simple silver hoop. Could he be a companion cat as well? If so... why did he mistreat me like that? The tears in my eyes burn precariously.

I start understanding some of Verg’s words:

“... Do I have any volunteers?”

Oh, gods—what did he say? A volunteer? Volunteer for what? Fear strikes my heart.

I hear a commotion below the platform, footsteps shuffling behind me. My ears ring loudly, and even though I’m trying to pay attention to what’s going on around me, I’m feeling really weird, the edges of my eyesight going blurry and gray, my lips tingling and numb, a nauseating feeling coming over me. I feel like I’m going to be sick.

I glance behind me, and I see a medium-sized cat with brown ears and hair in the weirdest hairstyle I have ever seen: it’s in two long, spiral curls at either side of his head, styled perfectly like coiled snakes. His eyebrows are tweezed into thin lines, and he has a matching mustache, also shaved into a thin line. There is something oddly slimy and reptilian about this cat, and he gives me the chills when his brown eyes pass over my face to examine my body.

Embarrassed, I drop my gaze, and rest my head against the table again. I don’t want him looking at me. In this humiliating position, I am helpless. I can’t move, I can’t fight back, I can’t escape. I can’t do anything. My ears aren’t hearing correctly, and my vision isn’t clear, but at the same time, the claws on my hands are drawing slowly, subtly, as if my body knows I need to be on the defensive. Sweat drips from my chest, but the room is chilly against my hot skin. My body aches—and I don’t understand why. Why would Rai leave me here? Did he know this would happen? Did I displease somehow? Is this all the result of me not letting him clean my wounds?

My mind skips back to last night—it seems so long ago—and my body suddenly remembers the feel of his soft silver hair—and a delightful feeling courses through me. It feels even better than Verg’s stupid toy. With my eyes closed, I can see Rai, holding my leg against my body, and his soft smile, it’s almost devious, while he’s licking the brand. My chest hurts thinking of that icy blue eye, focusing on my face, watching my expression. He wasn’t angry with me—I know he wasn’t. He couldn’t have been. He was tender with me—because afterwards—afterwards, he....

My thoughts are interrupted by Verg’s voice, who is giving the slimy volunteer cat instructions, but I can’t understand the words. All I can do is wait—until suddenly, I feel the toy click on again. My entire body gives a shudder—from head to toe—and my back arches suddenly, making me to stick out my ass even further and raise up my drooping tail in exhausted ecstasy.

I can’t help letting out another cry at the sensation—it’s a horribly desperate sound—in response to the stimulus. I can’t do this anymore—when will it be enough? I squeeze my eyes shut against the tears that have been threatening to fall—I don’t want to cry in front of all these people—but I can’t help it at this point. I’m just so exhausted—and I hear a sob tearing from my throat. I successfully stop the next one, though.

“Your cries are beautiful, little one,” I hear a voice I don’t recognize. “Let’s hear you cry some more.” I also can hear the muffled sound of the crowd in the room making some noise at that.

I suddenly feel something hit my ass—hard. It’s not a hand, or a cane, or a hairbrush, or Verg’s riding crop. It feels wider, and firmer, and it covers much more area than the brush, cane, or riding crop did. And it’s so loud—the slapping sound startles me, bristles my tail, and makes me draw my claws fully, digging into the table. And then, all at once, the searing pain of the blow hits me—it starts at my ass, and then runs down my legs and even up into my tail. What the hell is that? The blow hits my body so hard it knocks me up against the table, too. My hip bones are going to be bruised.

I timidly look behind me—my ears must be lowered, I’m sure—but I can’t protect myself. There’s nothing I can do to defend myself. I feel so helpless. And I see that reptilian cat holding a large paddle in both hands, wearing a lustful leer on his face. What the hell? He wants to see me in pain? What kind of party is this?

I realize that after I was hit, I failed to make a noise—I was so surprised, I got the wind knocked out of me. A breathy sound came out, but no cry or yell. The volunteer cat looks disappointed, and says to me, “I want to see you cry. I want to see tears.”

What the hell? I don’t understand. I look around for Verg, who is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold. He is actually glancing between me, and a specific spot in the crowd. When I follow his gaze, it’s where the Devil of Grief is standing. Is Kaltz okay with this? He touched me in such a painfully kind way—and his words were so gentle when he saw the marks on me earlier. I can’t believe he’d want to see this—did I just misunderstand?

Anger and rage pool in my stomach, along with nausea—and that annoying desire that makes my legs shake. I want to scream at Verg and that damned snake cat who is beating me—I am tempted to yell—but I am afraid that will make this worse. What the hell did I ever do to him? I don’t know what to do. How can I get out of this?

While I’m desperately trying to think, another blow comes down, just as hard as the first—and it burns like nothing I’ve felt before. I thought the caning was painful—but this… I can’t do this. A scream tears from of my mouth, and the reptilian cat give a hearty chuckle. His husky voice says, “Oh, yes! That’s what I want to hear—let’s hear more! And more!”

And another blow comes down, followed by three more in rapid succession. I can’t think—tears flow freely, and sobs and screams rip from my throat. Once I get a chance to breathe—and I do—he is hitting me so hard he has to take a break to recover—I try begging, my voice full of tears.

“Please, I’m sorry,” I try, “I-i-i’m-m n-not even s-sure w-what I-i d-did. B-but I am s-sorry.” I am so desperate that the words are nearly unintelligible. “I-i c-c-can’t d-d-do this! P-please, s-sir. P-please. I w-will d-do anything.” The tears in my voice are making it hard to understand what I’m saying, especially with my uneven, hitched breathing, plus my head is bowed low against the table.

The crowd seems to love it, though. But the blows keep coming as soon as the slimy volunteer has recovered his strength. Every once in a while, I feel the volunteer’s hand against my ass—as cold as ice—and he’s a cat, I know he’s a cat, not a devil—massaging me, feeling me up, experiencing the fruits of his labor. My ass is swollen and red—and I know it’s probably purple, showing through the gold paint. I can feel him pulling on the g-string strap as well, which makes my dick respond, and dripping, wet and eager—I’m thoroughly disgusted with myself—why is this making me hard?—though I’ve been teased for the past four hours now, and I’m afraid no happy ending is in store for me tonight.

I moan when he touches me, I cry loudly when he paddles me, I plead and beg whenever he takes a break—I do as I’m told, trying to be obedient and submissive. I am absolutely desperate. But what I really want is my owner. Where is Rai? I picture his handsome face—that icy blue eye in my mind. And I feel anger in my very soul. Why has he left me here? Does he know?

The beating continues—strokes coming harder and faster, leaving me no time to breathe or collect myself in between. I’m yelling, screaming, sobbing—he wants tears, and he’ll get them! It hurts! When that horrible man with the snakes in his hair takes a break, I remember what Verg had said earlier about tricking Rai to go out of town this week, in order to get his hands on me. I suddenly am overcome with rage and lose control. When the blows start up this time, I brace my body against the table to take them without as much bruising to my hips..

“Verg,” I speak quietly—in between the blows—and it sounds weird, since the air is being pushed out of my lungs as I speak, and cries sneak in between my words. But I know he can hear me. My face is turned to the wall. I won’t look at him. “Does my owner Rai know this is what you were planning?”

Suddenly, the blows stop. I am surprised—I was braced for the next one—I even felt the breeze from the paddle when it suddenly stops before the expected impact. I hear the serpentine cat from behind me. “Did you say ‘Rai’? Is your owner Rai? The silver-haired bounty hunter?”

I consider looking up to meet his gaze, but I can’t find the strength to lift my face at this point. Instead, I nod my head, my breath still hitching from sobs. Even after the blows have stopped, my ass is still burning!

“Eh, hm. Verg, I think I’m about finished here.” His voice sounds strange. I feel his hand on my ass, petting me in a comforting way. “Verg, do you think you might be able to do something so this companion won’t remember my face, please? I’d hate to get on Rai’s bad side, you know. I didn’t realize he was Rai’s companion. I wouldn’t have been quite so enthusiastic if I’d known.”

The onlooking crowd shifts nervously as well. Verg looks at me with irritation.

“What the fuck? He put Konoe in our care this week. There’s no cause for concern. He’ll be so submissive by the time his owner returns, I’m sure Rai will allow him to return anytime! Plus, little Pipsqueak is in heat! Of course I’ll take care of it so he won’t remember any of you.”

Verg’s voice is angry now, and he approaches me. I am frightened, but I can’t take anymore of the paddle. Seeing this monstrous devil so close to me, however, is incredibly terrifying. Having him tower over me like this makes me cringe, as much as I am able to, anyway, since I can’t move. I lower my face back to the table, avoiding his gaze.

He whispers into my ear again, and his voice isn’t kind. “Don’t you remember our little discussion earlier this afternoon, about your role?” I feel his cold hand on my ass, and he’s gently toying with the strap of my thong. I don’t know if it’s a pleasant feeling or if it’s scaring me even more. “Your job is to take orders, not give them, darling. I don’t want you to do anything to interfere with my plans for tonight. I’ve waited years for this—the time is finally right. I just know it.”

I feel his cold hand against me again, and this time, he forces a finger inside me. I try squirming away, but I can’t escape. Gods, does he have to do this in front of all these people?!  I can’t prevent a shocked gasp from escaping. It doesn’t feel like there’s enough room for both his finger and that toy, and I find myself straining against it. But a strange pleasure starts rising from the area now—I think he’s done that thing he did before—depositing additional aphrodisiac—it feels like there’s something else gooey inside me. And he doesn’t immediately withdraw his finger.

While part of me wishes he would, there’s a strange hot feeling in my body that isn’t so anxious. In fact, I find myself responding to his internal caresses—and I think those sweet sighs I’m hearing are coming from my mouth. The rest of his hand fondles the outside of my ass. I try to pull my legs closed to resist the touch, but I can’t—I only struggle against the restraints. His large hand is stroking the area just in front of my asshole, and it’s so sensitive right now that a shudder runs through my entire body when he gives it a tiny stroke. I feel his thumb above my ass—and it feels like he’s surrounding me. It’s a delightful but suffocating feeling. But then, when his hand moves gently, with small practiced movements like he knows what he’s doing, it feels so good—at least my exhausted body feels that way. Another long moan comes out of my mouth, high pitched, full of desire, longing, and need—I’m so embarrassed! I thought I was tired of feeling sexual pleasure at this point. I still just want to come and be finished.

When that thought comes over me, more tears form and start to fall fresh. I just can’t do this. I don’t want to be on display like this, I don’t know why my body is reacting like this—it feels like everything around me—every sound, every sight, every smell, every sensation— is sexual and arousing. I can’t stand it anymore. I don’t think I can get any harder, and I can’t touch myself. I’m pressing my body—my dick—against the hard edge of the table—and while it’s painful, the touch also feels good, like it’s finally getting some attention. The leering from the audience is both humiliating and arousing, and I’m confused. What am I doing?

I hear Verg’s whispering voice behind me once more. “Don’t you know that your owner left you here for proper training?”

A surprised gasp leaves my mouth.

“Oh yes. He wants a malleable, submissive companion when he returns, one who knows his place. One who knows his job. One who willingly and immediately obeys him. One who knows how to please him.”

I don’t know what to think anymore. In fact, thinking is becoming difficult, probably because that aphrodisiac is taking effect. I am really afraid. I try opening my mouth.

“I’m sorry.” I really didn’t know I was such a failure, tears coming for more than just my own suffering, tears falling for guilt, for shame, for fear that it's my own fault for being left here. “I didn’t know I was such a problem.”

“I know he treated you well—it’s recommended that owners treat their companions kindly during their first months in order to build trust. Discipline comes later—or in some cases, from outside sources, like us experts.”

I lower my head down to the table in shame, not knowing what I should do. Though I feel the full effect of the aphrodisiac now, I can see my claws have not retracted. AM I here because I haven’t learned to submit? Even under heavy drugs, my body refuses to submit. I can’t retract my claws myself, even when I try—they are dug firmly into the table, frozen in fear.

“Don’t you want to know how you can make this better?”

I remain silent, trying not to move. I can still feel Verg’s fingers inside of me, his hand moving around pleasantly, in and around my ass, along with that damned toy. These feelings border on the edge of torture at this point. I press my lips together, afraid to make a sound. I am so ashamed, and I feel the heat in my face and ears.

“You could be the best companion Rai could ever hope to have—worth every penny he paid for, in fact.” There’s that reference to money again! At its mention, I can’t help glaring over my shoulder at Verg. Why does he keep bringing that up? Was I really that expensive? Does he have to bring it up in front of all these people?

“Oh, now, that’s not a very submissive expression, darling.” The hand in my ass straightens suddenly, and lifts my body off the table, making my feet leave the ground. It hurts, the unexpected motion makes me cry out. At the same time, Verg grabs the base of my tail, and pulls it toward him, pulling my body toward him as well, impaling me further on his finger—which causes me even more pain—at least I think it’s painful. It’s bordering on pleasure, which disgusts me, for some reason. I can’t stand this! I let out a groan, and I want him to let go.

“Let go of me!” I finally find my voice. “Isn’t this enough? Please, just let me go! Just fuck me already, or let me go! I can’t keep this up!”

I realize my mistake too late—I probably could have been contrary to Verg in the privacy of my own chamber, but I should never have dared in front of a crowd of onlookers—not when Verg was trying to impress someone. Sure enough, I watch his face look out to the crowd—he’s meeting the gaze of the black and blue devil, Kaltz, who is watching this display before he returns to deal with me.

Verg does several things in fast succession. First, he removes his hand from my ass, taking the toy with it. It sounds like he switches it off once it’s out of my body—I feel a strange sense of loss as well as relief when is it is finally gone—it had truly started to feel like part of me. Second, he releases my ankle cuffs from the restraints. My legs immediately close—and it feels amazing to be able to press my thighs together—it feels like it’s been hours, but it can’t have been that long. Next, he releases my wrists from the restraints, and my arms are finally able to fall at my side.

But before I can relish in this wonderful sensation of freedom, he stands me up, still facing the table, and swiftly yanks off my only item of clothing, the g-string, leaving me naked, in gold paint with black leather cuffs at my wrists, ankles and neck. I realize I’m now standing on a platform on display in front of 100 cats, completely naked, with the most persistent hard-on I have ever had in my life. He pulls me away from the table and turns me around, and my dick is dripping—and I hear cheers from the audience—it’s a nightmare! I hear a hopeless, despairing sigh, and realize it must have been me.

I can’t look at the audience, so I drop my eyes to the floor, and I see that fluid is not just dripping from my dick but also from in between my legs—it must be whatever it was that Verg put inside me earlier. My body is glistening and sparkling with sweat—the gold paint emphasizes the liquids in a way that looks incredibly lewd. It doesn’t look like at all like my body. I’m absolutely mortified, covered in shame—my body has been mercilessly toyed with since this morning, and I can’t help its response, but I can’t help feeling ashamed, either.

Tears spill down my cheeks and drip down my neck and chest. They leave a glistening trail down my body as I stand before the crowd, and I remind myself that this moment will pass. I try not to sob, keeping my mouth closed.

Verg is standing behind me, making sure I don’t try to cover myself or turn around. He runs his hands through my hair, stroking my ears, which both annoys and distracts me. I think he is talking to the audience again, but I can’t really hear him. He calls up another person—this time, it’s the well-dressed, portly masked man who has been standing next to Max. Seeing another volunteer makes me cringe, and I try to escape Verg’s hold. He keeps me in place with a hard slap to my sore ass, which makes me cry out, when I resist.

I can’t do this. I just can’t do this anymore.

The portly man comes closer, and lowers his face to my chest—I flinch, and I try to push him away from me—I’m not at all attracted to this guy, plus isn’t he here with Max? I may be feeling desperate to come at this point, but I’m not that desperate. I do not want to be fucked in front of all these people! But when I reach up to defend myself, Verg grabs my arms and pins them behind my back—and he isn’t gentle about it, either. My shoulders make a cracking sound when he does this, and I cry out in response.

This isn’t normal behavior—I don’t care if this sort of thing is regulated—i don’t want any part. When I see that cat’s tongue loll out of his mouth to lick my nipple, l feel bile rising to the back of my throat. Are they going to fuck me here, in front of all these people? What I am to them? Aphrodisiac or no, I’m utterly disgusted. Watching his wet tongue flick in and out of his mouth, it’s not attractive. It feels gross, too—slimy and wet—and shouldn’t Verg’s aphrodisiac be working at this point?

I wonder what would happen if I threw up on this guy. I hear Verg say something, but again, my hearing is fuzzy, and I only make out the words, “my lord,” in the sentence. Wait—is this guy the Lord of Ransen? Oh my gods, what if I vomit on him in front of everyone? Maybe I should give him some sort of warning.

“Verg—“ My voice sounds very weak and quiet, and I’ve stopped struggling. My stomach is flopping over inside my gut. My mouth is filling up with saliva, and I try to swallow delicately, fearing any sudden movement might upset my stomach further. “My lord? Please, wait. Verg, I don’t feel well.”

I notice my claws have finally retracted, and the strength has left my body—so much that I’m leaning my weight against Verg. The edge of my eyesight is graying out, and my field of vision has narrowed, as though I’m looking through a small tunnel. There’s a loud whooshing sound in my ears, and I feel panicked. Sweat prickles all over my body, but instead of the hot sweat I’d been experiencing earlier, this is cold and clammy.

I don’t hear Verg’s response, but his grip on my arms behind me loosens. I’m afraid he didn’t hear or understand my warning, and I fear what he will do to me if I accidentally embarrass the Lord of Ransen in his own home, guest companion or no.

I repeat myself, being careful of my tone. “Verg—I don’t feel well. I think I’m going to be sick.”

I feel a hand on my cheek—it’s very cold—the fingers are too slender to be Verg’s—and much colder. Ah, they feel so good! It’s such a relief, in fact, I let out a relieved sigh. I see a dark shadow—black and violet—is it Kaltz? When did he get up here? And then I hear his usually soft voice, speaking quite sharply.

“Verg! I think you’ve overdosed this kitten! How much have you given him?”

Verg mumbles something—his tone is a little ashamed, and I’ve never heard him sound this way, nor have I heard anyone speak to him like Kaltz just spoke to him, either.

“Have you learned nothing in the past two thousand years? Nothing about Ribika or their mating cycles? This kitten is just too small for repeated doses of your aphrodisiac, especially not during his first heat. Gods, Verg, you can be such an impatient idiot!” Kaltz is angry, but he keeps his voice even and calm. I see he’s removed his coat. I feel him wrapping it around my body. I expect it to be warm, so I resist (the thought of anything else warm touching my body is appalling (I don’t even care that I’m naked at this point) and threatens to release the bile in the back of my mouth). To my surprise, it isn’t warm at all. Strangely, it’s ice cold and incredibly soothing—so I settle into it and into his arms when he scoops me up. He feels like Rai, I think drowsily, and I feel even more comfort.

“This little one is finished for the evening.” The Devil of Grief is able to project his voice when he wants to, and he easily attracts the attention of everyone in the room.

I hear someone in the crowd say, “Aww, aren’t you just saying that so you can have him to yourself?”

“Even if I were, would you be able to stop me?” Kaltz hasn’t changed the tone of his voice even a little. “Find another companion for tonight’s festivities. This one has suffered enough.”

With those words, I feel myself carried from the room. I’ve never been so relieved to leave somewhere before! Between his cool temperature and his long, sure strides (they feel so familiar), I find myself lulled into an exhausted sleep, the moment we reach the hall. I relax against Kaltz’s cold chest, imagining it’s Rai’s arms carrying me away from this place. It doesn’t even cross my mind to be concerned that it’s a devil carrying me.

Chapter Text

I feel so strange when I wake up. I’m disoriented and confused. My body is aching terribly like I’m sick, but it isn’t exactly like a cold. My body feels hot, but the surface I’m on—it feels soft like a bed—is cold to the touch and feels amazingly soothing.

My ass is on fire—and my mind is struggling to remember where I am. It takes a few moments to remember that yes, I’m a companion now, and I’m at the Lord of Ransen’s estate. And Rai isn’t here—my chest aches when I remember that. Then, I recall the events of the evening with terrible shame.

I feel long, slender fingers touch my face, and it surprises me. Is it Rai? Has he heard my desperation? Has he returned to my rescue? My eyes fly open, and I see a pair of captivating golden eyes staring back at me, attached to a chiseled pale face, ultraviolet locks framing it perfectly. His eyelashes are the same ultraviolet color. They are beautiful, and he is so handsome.

His voice is warm, like fresh summer honey—so unlike the temperature of his fingertips. 

“How are you feeling, young one? Is your body cooling down? A cat’s first heat can be quite overwhelming, and I’m afraid Verg may have overdone the aphrodisiacs while playing with you.” The Devil of Grief is speaking to me kindly.

I open my mouth to speak, but my voice cracks, no intelligible sound coming out.

“Don’t speak. Let’s clean this paint off of you and let your skin breathe.” He looks over his shoulder. “Verg! I require your assistance.”

To my dismay, the brawny devil is also in the room and wanders over to the bedside.

“I’ve drawn you a bath. The water is warm, not hot, but it will feel cold to your body. During heat, your core temperature rises by several degrees. Please bear with it. It may be uncomfortable at first, but you will be soothed by the end of it, and we need to get this paint off of you. It isn’t healthy, as gorgeous as it looks on you.” Kaltz offers you a warm smile.

Verg lifts me gently off the bed and carries me to the bath, bridal style. This is not my room. This place is decorated in a dark color scheme—blacks, mostly. There are sconces on the wall, lit with candles, but no roaring fire in the fireplace. The room is chilly, which feels nice against my hot skin. The bed is round, raised only slightly off the ground, decorated with a canopy of beautiful white and pink flowers vining over the top. That must be the intoxicating scent I smell.

The bath is a large sunken tub, off to the side of the room, toward the toilet and closet. I notice I can see out of the floor to ceiling window while immersed in the tub. I wonder if Verg has ever spied on Kaltz taking a bath from outside those windows. I bet he has, the pervert. Verg glances down at me quite sharply, just as I finish that thought, and then laughs loudly.

Verg walks into the tub, down two steps—he isn’t wearing his boots, and his chaps are rolled up. He sets me down in the water carefully. The water feels freezing against my body, and I immediately fight against the cold, trying to escape, and make a huge splash.

Kaltz has followed Verg to the bath, and I notice he’s wearing only a robe. He disappears behind me for a moment. During my struggle, I can’t help noticing that robe dropping to the ground—I see pieces of it in my periphery since I’m struggling so much in Verg’s arms. To my surprise, right after I see the robe on the ground, I feel a second set of arms snaking around my body—ice cold, even colder than the water.

“Oh, don’t struggle so much, little one.” The honeyed voice urges. “I know it feels cold now, but you will feel much better once you get in and your body gets used to it. Your body is overheated with hormones, and those aphrodisiacs have only made it worse. This will cool you down—like cool water helps with a fever. Give it a few moments.”

I feel his cold arms wrap around me, and he pulls me against his chest. His body is completely naked—as am I—and that realization goes right to my groin. I also see Verg to the side of the tub. He is in the process of disrobing—and he’s doing it slowly, provocatively. He’s rather built, I notice. I’m not interested in the person responsible for my current discomfort, I try to tell myself, as I watch him slip his arms out of his coat. When I see the coat fall to the floor, I hear a sharp intake of breath behind me, which sends a shudder down my spine. The huff of breath tickles my ear. It’s Kaltz, of course, responding to Verg’s massive chest, now on display. It isn’t as though he hides his body—he likes to show off. But I feel something stiffen and enlarge, pushing right up against my ass—and it’s much larger than I expect. It’s shocking but incredibly arousing. 

I have seen Verg show obvious interest in Kaltz, but I wasn’t aware that the attraction went in the other direction. While that thought goes through my mind, suddenly Kaltz’s hands lower along my sides, and down around my waist. I squirm resistantly at first, but when I feel his large slender hand gently palm my dick, I lean back, and I can’t suppress a long, drawn-out sigh, combined with the purr in the back of my throat. Gods, that sounded so full of longing! The touch makes me feel like I’m melting into the body behind me.

I press the back of my hand to my mouth, hoping to stifle anymore sounds like the one that just came out. It was embarrassing, and I revealed too much need. And I was shocked that such a sound could come out when Rai wasn’t around—but the way Kaltz was touching me, the sound of his voice and the feel of his body was so reminiscent of Rai. I can’t help making the connection. Especially not in my current state—not after having so much done to me today.

Verg removes his pants as well, revealing that he has been without underwear all day—not a big surprise to me, I suppose, but at the same time, I wonder why.

“It’s for speed,” Verg explains, looking right at me with a wicked smile. “You know, just in case I’m in a hurry?” I forgot that he can read my mind if I’m particularly emotional. I’d better be careful. “Do you like what you see?”

My eyes drop to Verg’s cock, erect and ready to go. It’s huge, and not just because Verg is taller and brawnier than me. Chills run through my body, and I don’t know how to respond—it feels rude to stare.

“So—Kaltz, what shall we teach this young kitten first this evening? I think I’ll let you take the lead. We are in your chambers after all. Why don’t you call the shots? I’ll just assist. But, please let me know if you need ideas.”

“I see,” the quiet voice sounds behind me. “I am hoping he will cool down a little first. I think he needs to, for his own comfort. I haven’t sensed that he is particularly compatible with either of us, unfortunately, but his heat is so strong that it might not make that much of a difference.”

I feel his hand moving down south a little more, and he sensuously moves his body closer to mine in the tub, rubbing up against me in a way that I simply cannot resist.

Am I not compatible? What the hell is he talking about?

“I’m not into those things that the other cats were doing in the ballroom. I don’t find it pleasurable unless my partner finds pleasure as well. Do you understand what I’m saying, young one?”

His voice sounds so sweet, so tempting—and with his hands caressing my dick the way they are—he is using both of them now, and it feels so good! I mean, I’ve never even touched myself with both hands at the same time—I’m feeling like I’m melting away, right into his wonderfully soothing cold body behind me, which is curling itself around me, and he fits like a glove.

“Hmm. I want a response from you, sweet thing.” I feel him gently crush the head of my dick with one hand while rubbing its base with the other when he says that,—and my gods does that motion happen to meet a need of mine right this very minute—so much I can hardly breathe! Of course, I respond, vocally and loudly, and also by pressing my ass back against his torso. I try to say, “yes,” but it comes out sounding very strange—it’s a long, mewling sigh, starting with the first part of “yeah“ but ending with “ssss” like a hiss.

“I’ll count that as a positive response,” and he sounds very pleased.

Verg is naked, standing in the tub front of us now, arms crossed, looking between Kaltz and me with his jaw agape. He is speechless for a moment, but he looks confused and like he wants to say something. Finally, the words come out.

“Holy shit! What the hell are you doing to him, Kaltz? I have never heard a cat make that kind of sound in my life!”

Over my shoulder, Kaltz rests his chin on my shoulder, and I can feel his smooth, cool cheek against my burning face. That feels good, too. Wow—he is so cold and soothing.

“Verg, I have talents of which you know nothing,” the voice is teasing and sly, and surprisingly young and virile—all traces of the grief and sorrow have vanished. He sounds like a different person like this.

Just for a moment, his tone reminds me of Rai, just before he took me into his mouth—and thinking of that stirs up some amazing emotions in me, and also makes blood rush into my hips and waist like crazy—I mean—just the mere thought of him does. And then…

I realize Rai isn’t here.

I stiffen in Kaltz’s arms, sitting up a little straighter, and I realize Verg is staring at me, with that giant erection of his, bobbing precariously close to me. It strikes a chord of fear in me, and I’m not sure what to do, and I catch my breath. Where is Rai? And why did he leave me? Did he punish me on purpose? Am I supposed to be learning something here? Did he want me to suffer like I did upstairs? And this is only the first day! How am I going to make it through the rest of the week?!

I suddenly realize panic is setting in when I feel one of Kaltz’s hands moving up my back in a gentle stroke, and he makes a shushing sound with his lips.

“It’s all right. You’re going to be fine, young one. I feel your pain and your sorrow. How unusual to have such strong feelings for your owner so early on—it’s very strange.” I can feel him tipping his head—he must be meeting Verg’s eyes and looking at Verg, I confirm it. “I wonder, did your wavelengths match?”

“Wavelengths?” I ask quietly. I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“For the mating season,” Kaltz asks again. He waits a moment, and then deliberately floats around in front of me in the tub. “Oh—you know nothing of mating season, do you?”

Seeing Kaltz nude is something I could not have ever expected, nor is it easy to describe. He covers himself so carefully during the day, and now I understand why. The cats of the evening would never leave him alone if he dressed like Verg.

He’s tall and lean, with a fighter’s body. He looks so young—much younger than Verg, in fact—with flawless pale skin—and chiseled muscles suited more to a god than a devil. Did I mention, his chest is absolutely flawless? My mouth falls open as I see his six-pack abdomen and well-toned arms. He looks like slightly smaller than Rai without battle wounds.

I try not to notice, but he has the tiniest nest of ultraviolet hair circling his belly button, trailing down to his nether regions—and of course, it would match the hair on his head—but I’ve never seen ultraviolet pubic hair before, and it’s rather hard to pull my eyes away. In the water, it looks soft and silky, just like the hair on his head. Rai’s was silky, too. I want to reach out and touch it, but I would never dare. I put my hand to my mouth again.

Suddenly Kaltz grabs my hand and pulls it toward him, under the water. He is facing away from Verg, so as soon as my hand goes underwater, Verg can’t see what he’s doing. He also can’t see the mischievous expression on Kaltz’s face, which I can’t quite believe I’m seeing. I think I may be imagining it. He holds my hand in both of his and places it flat against his belly. Then, again with both of his hands, meeting my gaze boldly with his glowing golden eyes, he pushes my hand down, in the direction of that hair I was just admiring.

A blush comes up on my cheeks, and I make a small anxious sound. I’m so embarrassed, and his action seems so out of character that it throws me for a loop. “What are you do—?” I can’t even finish my question.

“You know, I too can read minds when a lot of emotion is involved. In your case, it seems to be… lust?” He gives me a wink with a twinkle in his eye. Then, in a voice close to a whisper, he continues. “So, is it as soft as your owner’s? I know he isn’t here, but we are going to have to do something with you before he comes back, or you are going to be an absolute mess.”

“What are you doing over there, you two?” Verg is getting impatient and doesn’t like being left out. He starts climbing into the water behind Kaltz. “Shit, this is fucking cold. You damn cats and your fucking heat. Can’t you just get him cleaned up and get him the fuck out of there? I want to play, too, but this is too damn cold for me!”

It is as soft as it looks, and yes, it is as soft as Rai’s. I’m too stunned to say anything, and so I just gulp quietly, and comb my fingers through that dark blue hair, hearing Kaltz make a quiet little gasp he hides from Verg. 

“Hmm. Let’s get this paint off of you. You’ll feel much better once your skin can breathe.” Kaltz grabs a cloth and some soap and starts to rub my hand and lower arm, removing the paint gently. To me, or maybe just to himself, he adds, “I can’t believe that oaf thought non-breathable paint would be a good idea during a cat’s first heat.”

“While we’re doing this, maybe I should find out what you know about mating season. Don’t be embarrassed. Most companions don’t know anything about it.” He continues speaking after moving up my elbow to my upper arm.

I shift around in the tub, allowing Kaltz access to my other arm. Already, being free from the paint on one arm makes a big difference in my comfort.

“Have you heard that mating season happens twice per year?”

“Yes, and this one is around Antou.”

“Correct. The other happens around our spring festival, Yuan Tan. And the length is about 14 days, but that’s the average. And your body isn’t in heat the entire time. There are individual differences.”

“Yes, Rai told me that there is some variation and that once you take care of things, you should feel better."

“That can be true, but tell me, didn’t Rai take care of you before he left?”

I pause for a moment. He did. Both the first night and then that other night when he… My dick gets painfully hard again at the thought—and I have to shift around to make myself comfortable. I catch Verg looking at me with a smirk on his face.

“I think I’d like to hear about that time.” I can hear Verg’s voice addressing me, husky, quiet, and interested.

“Some cats are more sensitive than others, and require a little more than only one… session.” Ignoring Verg, Kaltz meets my eye. “Or more than two sessions. And this is only your first heat. You are unusually sensitive, it seems. It’s likely your owner wasn’t aware, or he wouldn’t have left you, or perhaps the matter he is seeing to was deemed more urgent.”

He continues scrubbing the paint off my body and moves to my chest, which I find slightly ticklish. I look up and attempt to take the cloth from his hands, and he gives me a look that says I’d better not try that again.

“It seems your owner and you have matching wavelengths, which would have made you perfectly compatible. Your body is already wound up with hormones since it’s your first time—you’re ready for it if you get my meaning. Plus you’ve been given catnip, drugs, and aphrodisiacs, as well as had your body played with for extended periods of time.

“Generally, a cat in his first heat is pretty excited and doesn’t require any extra help. So by giving you these things, you’re going to only need more… activities and sessions over the next week. If you don’t get them, you may become very ill. 

“Your body showed signs of overdose in the ballroom just a short while ago. You will overheat like you have a fever when you get too much stimulation without a release. Everything may start to feel sexually stimulating. We need to make sure you experience release. Does that make sense?”

Release? What is he talking about? I’m slightly confused.

“Unfortunately, the lord of this estate is quite fond of prolonging things for his companions. He loves to see companions worked up to the point of tears, and he loves to hold off on their release. I’ve seen him tie companions up and tease them to near death.

“Plus, you tend to look quite charming when in pain, unfortunately for you. I’m afraid the lord witnessed that this evening as well. You should be well on your guard and make sure you’re on your best behavior around him.”

Best behavior? Is this some kind of warning?

“If needed, I may be able to help you with this. I notice that you have a strong rebellious spirit in you, which your owner might appreciate, but it certainly won’t help you here. I can help you if you need to submit and find yourself unable to. Come to me, and I can take that away temporarily. It won’t be pleasant, but you will be able to submit to the lord’s or the coordinator’s commands.”

This piques my interest. If I can’t submit, Kaltz can help me?

“I don’t understand. What do you mean, you can help me submit? You mean, you can make me submit? You can force me to?”

“No, it’s more like a spell or magic. I learned it before I became a devil, actually. I don’t use it often, but since I’m a devil now, the spell is quite powerful, and I can make anyone submit if it’s what they want.”

I can’t understand what that even would look like, or why someone would want to do this.

“I don’t get how that would even work. Why would I want to do that?”

“Would you like to try it out for this evening? I think if you try it, you’ll understand how it can be useful. I will release you as soon as the night’s activities are over. It will make tonight’s activities quite a bit more… interesting, I think.”

I consider it for a moment, and then I foolishly agree. Behind me, Verg laughs gleefully—he’s put on a robe for a moment—watching Kaltz continue to clean the paint from my body in the bath seems to be entertaining enough for him, apparently.

Kaltz waves his hands over me, my body still half-covered in golden paint, and then he whispers some strange words. I feel a strange sensation—like something leaking from my consciousness—and suddenly, I feel myself losing consciousness, right in the bathtub, falling right in the Devil of Grief’s arms.

Chapter Text

I regain consciousness almost immediately, awakening in the cool water, feeling strangely at peace in Kaltz’s arms.

“This is unexpected.” I hear his voice over my shoulder. “I’ve never had anyone lose consciousness before. Perhaps you’re just very… strong willed?”

I crane my head to look at his face, trying to read his expression. I make out a wry smile.

“Is it working?” Verg asks. He sounds anxious, perhaps excited. “I dosed him all those times today to help loosen him up, you know, and he would not let go of that pride of his or his control. I want to see if this spell of yours works.”

“It should since he complied willingly.” Kaltz sounds sympathetic to my plight, as he washes the paint from my body.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Try it out!” Verg is impatient. 

“Good things come to those who wait,” Kaltz says mildly. “Isn’t that a saying from your ancestors? First things first. We will be doing this at my pace, or you may excuse yourself.”

That seems to shut him up.

“Stand up, sweet thing, so I can reach your back side.” Kaltz’s voice sounds heavenly in my ears as though I’ve been waiting to hear from him my entire life, and I find myself obeying at once.

Bewildered, Verg looks at me, an astonished exclamation falling from his lips. I’m naked and exposed above the water level. But I didn’t hesitate when Kaltz directed me. He looks to Kaltz, astounded.

Kaltz tilts his head to the side in that way that he does, an almost smug look on his face, as he continues his task of washing me.

“Kaltz...” Verg coaxes. 

“Verg…” Kaltz’s tone thrills me—I know he’s teasing Verg in the mimicry of his tone. Yet he is full of allure and mischief, but so very subtle.

“Kaltz—that thing you did with Konoe—would it work on devils?”

“Oh, it certainly does.”

“Even if they are older and more powerful than you?”

“Even if they are older and more powerful than you,” states Kaltz, looking at Verg unswervingly. “It worked perfectly on Razel, for example.”

I see a mass of indecipherable emotion pass over Verg’s face at the mention of this other devil’s name. Is he a rival, perhaps? How many devils am I going to come across? Please, don’t let him be here on this estate!

“Y-you and Razel?” Verg sounds incredulous. “That old toad is the Devil of Wrath! I rule pleasure! W-why? Why would you— And with him?? How could you—?”

“Verg. You have no room to talk when it comes to sexual partners, from what I have heard—and even from your own mouth. I’ve been a devil, and alone, for over twenty years. I have my own needs. He was willing to meet my demands and needs at the time. That is all.” Kaltz pauses a moment, and then addresses me. “Sweetheart, would you lean your body against the edge if the tub? It may be uncomfortable to get the paint out of some of these places. I may require you to spread your legs a bit.”

I instantly comply. The concept of embarrassment has disappeared from my brain—even as I bend my waist over the side of the spa, and spread my legs. He didn’t order me, which I notice once I’ve obeyed. He asked politely. And yet, I still obeyed, without delay, despite the warning of impending discomfort and pain. Why? Plus it’s strange that I’m doing this in front of another cat, especially since that other cat is that pervert devil, Verg.

“Verg, are you perhaps envisioning a scenario you’d like to try?” I feel a cold hand cleaning paint from my still sore butt cheeks, long fingers slipping between them gently. The bruising and blistering is painful, and yet I hear breathy sighs spilling from my lips. I try to stifle them with my hand, but I hear a gentle whisper. “Please don’t stifle your voice. I want to hear it all. If it feels good or if it causes you pain, I want to hear. Let it all out.” 

“Will you work your spell on me?” Verg’s eyes are full of desire, unbridled lust, and I can’t tell if it’s for Kaltz or me. He approaches, towering over me, as I’m at the edge of the bath. “Will you treat me like a lover?”

“I wonder,” smiles Kaltz. “Do you dare submit yourself to me?”

“That’s what I want, more than anything.” Verg kneels before the slender devil.

Kaltz is pleased. “As you wish.” He waves his hands over Verg, speaking the same soft words over him. I watch as Verg’s face changes—I can actually see the pride and brawn leak out of his expression. What remains is simply an incredible handsome devil, who looks full of desire, and surprisingly, a little bit shy.

Kaltz says to him, “Take off that robe and join us. I need your help in cleaning up this poor cat.”

Verg complies instantly, even though he’d just complained about the water being too cold. He walks down the steps, picks up a bar of soap, and starts rubbing down my legs.

“Gently, please. This one is sensitive, and I don’t wish for him to become upset,” Kaltz warns. At his request, Verg lightens his touch. In fact, his touch becomes pleasing: light, circular motions with a little added soap to negate any friction. Now, I have both devils cleaning the paint off my lower body—Verg working my thighs and ass, and Kaltz my lower legs and feet, and I’m losing my ability to breath evenly. I’m hanging on to the side of the tub with everything I have, tears forming in my eyes—but I’m not sure where the tears are coming from.

Kaltz looks up from what he is doing, almost as though he heard my emotional confusion. He takes my chin in his hand and looks me in the eye reassuringly.

“Tears? Poor kitty. Are you still missing your master? I understand your loneliness very well. I promise you, we will make things more than pleasurable for you. I may not be Rai, but I will be gentle—like he is in those memories you are unable to suppress. Why not place that silver-haired giant in the forefront of your mind?”

No sooner are those words spoken—like a magical spell—Rai appears in my mind’s eye in all his beauty and… seductiveness. He is lying between my legs, exactly like he was when he was cleaning the brand on the back of my thigh, pressing my right leg against my chest, smiling down at me with that particular look in his eye. His hair is floating around his face, reminding me of freshly fallen snow, beginning to cover my body and gently tickling me.

“How did he manage to capture your heart within such a short time, hmm?” comes Kaltz’s voice. He is studying my face, brushing soap away from my chin. “Your face as it is right now—you remind me of someone I knew, long ago.”

As those words pass his lips, I feel an intense burst of sorrow and grief from him, and it physically pains me, a thin string wrapping itself around my ribcage and pulling itself tight. I realize that Kaltz, before he was a devil, was once a cat. Verg was never a cat. But Kaltz was, and he still retains a part of that self in his soul. He loved the cat of whom he so fondly speaks, and probably still does. I can’t help wondering about his story, but I don’t ask. I simply look into those glowing eyes, which are still watching me.

Verg’s hands reach the brand on the back of my thigh, which is still tender. Covered by the paint, it had been nicely protected. But now, the cloth rubbing against it, it burns freshly, and I let out a yelp of pain, and look behind me.

Verg has a smile on his face, on his knees in the water, covered with soap himself. He doesn’t seem to mind the work of exploring my body, it seems. He meets my gaze boldly as I glare at him, running the soapy cloth across the brand once more, watching me flinch. What is he doing? Is he purposely trying to hurt me? I notice he is still using the same gentle, circular motions, but it still burns and stings. 

I wonder if he is testing the limits of this submission spell. I say loudly, “Verg, that hurts! The brand—it hurts!”

“Young one, the paint has to come off somehow, doesn’t it?” Kaltz asks, tipping my chin toward his face again. “He is being gentle. And yes, he also enjoys watching you suffer.”

It occurs to me that as the so-called Devil of Pleasure, this action is inconsistent to what I understand about pleasure. What is he trying to do? I don’t understand.

I feel Kaltz’s cool slender fingers sliding against my forehead, brushing my hair aside. “Bring him to your mind again. I want to see your face when you imagine him.”

Immediately, Rai pops into my head—in the exact same position as he was earlier, the same seductive smile on his face—and my body instantly responds. It must be the heat. This time, however, when Verg runs the cloth over the brand, I can see Rai’s tongue edging across it at the same time, and the pain is so… very different. It still hurts—it does. However, the image of his long pink tongue brushing my thigh, pressed against my chest the way it is, floods my lower half with blood. My cock stiffens almost painfully, fluid beading at the tip, when I imagine what comes next. I can feel my formerly cooling body heating up. My voice activates again, too, and my shyness has disappeared, thanks to Kaltz’s command to release it.

Verg’s hands directly approach this non-neutral zone of my body. He’s soaping up my shaft, and I let out an uncomfortable noise and try to squirm out of his grip.

“Don’t move, sweet kitty.” Kaltz rests his arm on my shoulder, keeping his voice still and calm in my ear. “We need to get all the paint off of you. This will feel good.”

As soon as he says this, my body stops squirming, submitting to Verg’s ministrations. Kaltz is right—it does feel good. It feels amazing, in fact, as Verg’s hands run up and down my dick. I respond to his touch, even lean into it. A part of my mind is watching my actions, stunned at what I’m allowing to happen. This must be a result of Kaltz’s spell. It must be a total submission spell. I am doing whatever he suggests, and I don’t hesitate. It’s strange, and it’s easy. I wonder if I only respond to Kaltz’s voice, or if other people also have an effect on me.

Verg in enjoying my response immensely, and he’s surprised at my ardor. I hear him murmur quietly, “Come a little closer, Pipsqueak, and let me clean the rest of your back, too.”

I comply at once. That answers my question. Shit. I guess I obey anyone. But hey—hasn’t Verg also been given the spell? I should try it against him. I try to form words in my mouth, though it takes a few attempts, and say, “Verg, slower. Move more slowly.”

And he actually listens, slowing down his movements. Oh my gods, this is useful! I wonder if he realizes he’s responded to my request. However, once his cloth and soap come into contact with my ass, it’s another story. Since I am bruised and the skin is blistered from the beating I received earlier, the pain is excruciating. Kaltz was very, very gentle; Verg’s touches, not nearly so gentle. I don’t even get a chance to ask him to stop, and instead, his touches tear screams from my body.

Kaltz keeps a comforting arm around my shoulder, kissing my ear softly. This feels different from Rai’s rough style of grooming. His is a soft kiss, gentle and exploratory. “I’m sorry, young one. We must get the paint off of your wounds. It is bound to hurt, and there’s no way around the pain. Bear with it, please.” And softly—to himself, he continues, “I am sorry your screams and cries sound so beautiful."

His words force me to stand still, though tears flow and my cries keep coming. I shiver in place, my knees shaking, holding on to Verg's shoulders now instead of the side of the tub, allowing him to remove the paint. I’m sure he’s removing skin as well—at least, that’s what it feels like. My chest is hitching up and down uncontrollably, after I was sure I was all cried out for the evening.

I hear a gentle sigh—I can’t tell if it’s Kaltz or Verg—but it sounds quite pleased.

“During your stay, you would be better off if you could learn to control your emotions a little. Your tears are simply addicting. If you could withhold them, or learn to use them at the right times, you might be able to control what happens to you.” I think it is Verg speaking.

“It’s your voice,” Kaltz adds thoughtfully. “It has a certain musical quality I can’t describe. It feels nostalgic and familiar, which comes out most often in utterances like your sexual sighs, sobs, screams, or cries. It makes one want to take action. I wonder... do you have magic in your blood?”

Addressing Verg, “We may want to keep this one away from Razel.”

“I was just thinking the same thing, for his own safety,” Verg replies.

I’m getting ahold of myself, especially now that my hindquarters are being left alone. I look behind me, and tentatively run a hand over my ass. It’s a mess. I have blisters and a lot of bruising as well. The marks from the caning are still there, too. The cool water has helped, but I’m not sure what to do to make things better.

“Let’s get out and dry you off.” Just like that, I walk out of the tub and let Verg dry me.

“I love me a compliant companion,” Verg says, his tone full of awe, while he’s cuddling me in a soft towel. “Can you imagine what your owner would do if we left you with him while under this spell? He’d shit himself, I’m sure. I’m also sure he’d permit you to return to us anytime.”

The thought washes me through with horror—memories of the evening’s activities are quite fresh in my mind, and my ass is still on fire—but Kaltz looks at me and says, “I’ll remind you, young one, that you are to be thinking of your master right now. Keep him in the front of your mind. I want to see your feelings of him.”

My breath is taken away when Kaltz says these words, and they overtake all the fear Verg has instilled. I guess between the two, Kaltz’s words hold more power Verg’s, which I find comforting.

After I am dry, Kaltz leads me to the round bed, and he gently pushes me face down. “Lie down now and just relax.”

He addresses Verg, “I require your assistance.”

Both devils cover my body in a light lotion, which smells slightly floral and slightly minty, and it cools my body, soothing my sore skin. Kaltz’s hands are soft and smooth, and his touch, while gentle, is quite firm. He massages each joint carefully, even between the joints of my knuckles, pulling out the fingers of each of my hands. He examines my palms, massaging the stripes from the caning I received at the auction house, rubbing the lotion into them thoroughly.

Verg works on my lower body, also massaging firming—picking up my legs by bending my knees one at a time—the soles of my feet, rubbing firmly so his touch doesn’t tickle. He even pulls out each of my toes, one at a time, applying lotion in between. It feels amazing; I feel pampered and relaxed.

Kaltz’s voice floats dangerously close to my ear. “Are you still thinking of your master?” I keep Rai’s face in my mind. I think of him, imagining it’s him here, massaging me, taking his time with me, making me feel good, just like he did that last night…

Suddenly, Kaltz’s touch stops against my lower back, and his voice sounds different. “Oh ho...”

“What is it?” Verg asks.

“Just listen,” the blue devil suggests. And a moment passes. I wonder what they are doing as I return to my fantasy. I’ve just gotten to the good part, in which I’m watching Rai’s long tongue slip in between my legs…

“Oi! That silver kitty?” Verg sounds shocked. “He seems like such a conservative conventional type! Although, spending time with this little kitty would change anyone’s leanings, wouldn’t it?” He chuckles seductively. “What do you have in mind for this evening?”

“How do you feel about reenactments?” Kaltz is addressing Verg. 

“Hmm. I could definitely get on board with that—“ I’m abruptly flipped over onto my back, and my eyes fly open. My legs are yanked down hard, as I'm pulled toward the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing?” I’m filled with fear, as Verg towers over me. Even on his knees, he's a giant. As though awaking from a dream, I realize I’m naked on a bed with two devils, each more than twice my size. I’m hopelessly outnumbered. Plus I have an incredible hard-on, and I watch Verg’s eyes swivel between my eyes and… that. I feel a blush rising on my face, and it’s creeping up to my ears. “Please—please. Don’t make me do this.”

I can’t see all of Verg since he is kneeling beside the bed. But I remember the size of him—erect and raring to go—and I am absolutely terrified. Where has this fear been hiding?

“Konoe.” 

I hear my name in a silken voice, and I crane my neck, my body acting on its own, out of my control. The Devil of Grief doesn’t say my name very often. It sounds… like it belongs on his tongue. “Calm yourself. Relax. We aren’t going to hurt you. We want to pleasure you. Remember what I said earlier? It doesn’t please me when my partner isn’t feeling pleasure. It seems to help you when you keep the image of your master in your mind. Why don’t you imagine that Verg is your master?”

“Imagine that Verg is Rai?” I echo, a confused tone in my voice, feeling a little woozy—my eyes drifting from Kaltz, back to Verg, who is towering over me.

To my surprise, when I look back at Verg, the shape of his face starts to change in front of eyes—it’s the weirdest thing—morphing from a square jaw into a more angular shape, his nose becoming narrower and longer, his chin more pointed. His eyes lighten to a pale blue: icy blue, instead of their grey and green shades. His hair stays the same shade, but it grows in length, styled in a ponytail, pulled back off his face and shoulders. Even his skin lightens, from Verg’s tan to a very pale shade, nearly white. I can see the black hairless tail change grow fur—white, long, and plush. It changes in its overall appearance as well, looking much more feline. Finally, Verg’s horns turn into soft, rounded white ears.

He wears a seductive smile on his face, and the skin on his chest is smooth, without scars. As I remember my owner’s scars, so battle scars appear on Verg’s skin as well—it’s so strange. His entire body looks like it’s the right shape, too. I stare at the cat/devil before me, my mouth agape, and look back at Kaltz for an explanation.

“He still looks like Verg to me,” explains Kaltz. “It’s only your eyes that have been affected.”

Though I’ve never seen Rai’s hair styled like this, it’s an amazing likeness. I tentatively reach out my fingers to his ears. I wonder if they will feel soft, like I remember, or like the horns I know they are. To my surprise, they feel soft and silky, exactly how I remember. In turn, his hands reach out to my own ears, and he touches me, in the rough but soothing way he always does, and it feels like home. I push my body into his chest eagerly, and I hear him make a sound: it sounds like an eager growl.

“I think you know what to do.” Kaltz’s voice sounds like honey, as he’s speaking to this Rai imposter.

I feel this not-Rai pushing my body back down to the bed, as he lowers his mouth to mine. When his tongue strokes mine, I hear Kaltz’s voice, extremely close to my ear—he must have moved, “Sensitive kitty, let this cat substitute for your master, just for tonight. Think of him as ‘your Rai,’ when he takes you.”

When those words, “when he takes you,” hit my ears, my body melts completely—I hear the strangest noise, realizing way too late that it came from my own throat. I’ve missed him so much—his kiss, his touch, his body. He takes me like he owns me (which, I suppose he does), like he controls me, and I love it, I need it, I crave it. My body responds without hesitation, pressing up against his, and I snake my arms around his body, grabbing his hair with both hands, never wanting to let go.

While I’m absorbed in his kiss, I feel something around my ears—maybe Kaltz? Is his mouth touching them? Is he licking me? But he whispers—“I’m not even here, remember, it’s just you and your owner. Just relax into the sensations.” But I feel his hand reaching toward the base of my tail and grabbing it firmly. Another sigh gushes into not-Rai’s mouth, and he releases my lips.

Not-Rai pulls away, and looks at my face—his eyes are beautiful—I’ve never seen him meet my gaze with both of his eyes—in fact, I’ve never seen him without an eye patch. There’s nothing wrong with this cat’s second eye. He smiles, watching my expression as he lowers his hand over my groin, palms it, then begins to stroke me—and again, I melt. My eyes close half-way, but I want to see him—I’m afraid the illusion will fade, and I want to see him, I want to see Rai, the real Rai, my Rai. My heart aches with how much I miss him. I bring his face to mine again, holding it with both of my hands, and I kiss him deeply, diving my tongue into his mouth, and he returns my kiss.

“Such surprising enthusiasm!” Not-Rai says, and his voice isn’t quite right. But he looks right, I want to believe it. My body believes it. My body really believes it and becomes intolerably hot. I am short of breath, and that cool water in the tub is looking attractive. I suddenly feel desperate, not knowing what to do with myself. I’m confused.

I feel another tug at the base of my tail, and Rai lowers his face to my waist. I make a wild-sounding protest, trying to push his head away from me, not being able to bear a repeat of the perfect memory, currently running in my head. I hear another whisper in my ear. It’s Kaltz again. 

“Shhh—relax. Close your eyes. Immerse your body in the experience, and relax.” Another sharp pull of my tail tilts my body towards the devil who isn’t Rai. When he lowers his mouth against my dick, I feel a slender finger enter me from behind, just below my tail—making my back arch, forcing an obscene noise out of my mouth.

I cover my mouth with my hand, leaving only one in not-Rai’s hair. But it’s immediately pulled away, and replaced with Kaltz’s cold mouth. He’s somehow curled himself around me so he can reach both my mouth and my ass simultaneously, and from behind—which blows my mind—I just can’t picture it—or is that maybe not-Rai’s finger inside of me? Kaltz’s tongue is soft, smooth, and gentle, yet still commanding, like not-Rai’s was, too. I sigh into his mouth, feeling a rumbling purr starting in the back of my throat.

“That’s good,” he says when he pulls away. “Remember not to stifle your voice. I want to hear everything, young one. It gives me pleasure.” I feel hands in my hair, on my ears, my back—and I can’t tell which are his, and which are not-Rai’s, who has my dick in his mouth up to the hilt, and has added a second finger to my ass, gently palming my cheek, pushing me against his face, encouraging me to fuck his face.

I open my eyes just a peep—I want to know if it’s still Rai’s face, and it is—his hair still pulled back—a shudder runs through my body when I see him lying next to me, as he’s turned me to face him, lying on my side.

I hear and feel him humming—the vibrations are heavenly against my dick. It’s enough to make me come right then, and I let him know. “Aaaah! If you do that—ahh—mmm—I’m too close!” And then I see his hand close tightly around the base of my cock, preventing my climax. He keeps humming, moving his head up and down, making me fuck his face ever so slowly, keeping all the control and bold eye contact with me, while occasionally flashing his eyes over my shoulder at Kaltz.

I gasp when those fingers slide out of my ass in a sudden slick movement, and I’m immediately aware of another presence taking their place—this one much larger and different from anything I’ve experienced. At first, I think it might be Verg’s toy, and I’m gripped with terror. My body stiffens against the sensation.

Trapped in this position, between not-Rai, who has his hand squeezed around my cock, which is still ready to burst, and being held tightly from behind. The body behind me is very cold, so it was hard to identify as a living person at first. It must be Kaltz. I feel his arms snake around me, fingers running down my sides to my hips, and he bends my top leg up at a sharp angle to spread me wider.

Another lewd noise comes out of me when I feel extreme pressure from behind me. Kaltz is entering me—and he’s cold, an unearthly temperature, and it’s nothing like when Rai held me. It’s freezing, pushing my body apart, intrusive. Yet there is no pain, much to my relief. I feel his torso slick with cool sweat against my back, and, ever so slowly, he enters me up to the hilt. When my eyes open, not-Rai has released the firm grip around my cock, and is licking my shaft and gently stroking me with his hand. He wraps an arm around Kaltz’s waist, his eyes wandering toward the devil, watching him, his expression dripping with desire and longing.

Once Kaltz is completely inside me, I hear a satisfied sigh, breathily sounded directly into my ear. “I do miss the heat,” he says, voice overflowing with lust, which only heightens my own appetite. “You have such warmth surrounding you, young one. I’m sure that’s what your master sees in you. You certainly must please him greatly.”

Almost tenderly, Kaltz slowly starts to move, rocking his hips firmly, holding my hips still and close to his. I’ve only done this once before, but I know I like it hard, and fast, hard enough to knock the wind and breath out of me, and in no time I start to feel pent up and frustrated. I hear small chuckling from both not-Rai and Kaltz behind me.

“Impatient, are we?” Not-Rai’s voice floats up from my waist. I know I’d feel better sooner if Kaltz would increase his pace. I know I can take it, and I try to encourage him by moving my hips. I hear Kaltz chuckle again. “No, no, we are taking this slow, at my pace, young one.” My body instantly submits.

Suddenly, even at this slow, steady pace, I experience a mind-blowing sensation—white stars flashing on the backs of my eyelids because I can’t keep them open, an almost nauseatingly pleasure grips me, and a guttural noise is pulled from my lungs. I can scarcely catch my breath, and I see not-Rai’s stunned face in front of me, looking between my wanton face and Kaltz. 

“What the hell was that?” Not-Rai has backed away from me and is only watching, eyes filled with infatuation, fascination, and absolute ravenousness.

“I have skills of which you know nothing,” Kaltz’s alluring voice comes from behind me again, which, combined with his continued slow and steady movements--now that he's found his perfect angle--is enough to provoke that overwhelming sensation once more along with another unrestrained sound, which bursts from the inner depths of my being.

And right after it, one more—this one, leaving me shuddering, and the next one, my breath sounding more like, “nooooo—I can’t,” makes my toes curl, and the next, makes me bare fangs bare and draw claws. I’m afraid I might truly die of pleasure. I had no idea it would be the Devil of Grief who would kill me, however!

“Please—“ I’m begging, pleading. “Staa—aaaaaah, huh—pleeeeaa—aahh—uhhh…” Unintelligible sounds take over any actual words.

“Relax. This is pleasure. You are feeling pleasure. You are enjoying this.” Kaltz’s enticing voice and seductive words turn the torturous, near painful pleasure into something entirely pleasurable, and my lewdness increases ten-fold. I didn’t think I could get louder, but I do. Even without him increasing his speed—he is merely brushing along that sensitive spot inside me that Verg’s toy so heartily abused earlier today—I’m on the verge on exploding. I know I’m going to explode.

“Ugh—uh—ahhh—I’m going to—ah—come—“

“Please, please do,” encourages that honeyed voice, though it’s not at all as calm as it once was. I love the sound of Kaltz’s voice when it's filled with lust. That thought is all it takes to bring me to my limit. And I climax—without anyone touching my dick.

It’s as though all the pain, stress, humiliation, stimulation, excitement, and fear that built up during the day have found release with this climax. My vision flashes white—could I really go blind from this?—my back arcing, my inner body tightening around Kaltz. Pleasure that has been pooling, building, swirling in my waist, hips and stomach finally finds its release, and I watch not-Rai’s face as my dick explodes in thick ribbons of white, all over the sheets. I feel pleasure and relief that I haven’t felt in my life, shivering, quivering, and shuddering. I can’t even comprehend the sounds that flowed from my mouth during this climax—I know I was loud, but otherwise, I have no idea.

Kaltz comes right after me—that leisurely pace is all he needs, and I feel him release as soon as my body tightens around him, his seed feeling cold inside of me. His alluring sigh stutters just a moment--quite, calm, but so captivating. It makes me shiver. He relaxes for just a moment, stroking my lower back, and he gently pulls out. I let out another small sigh, overcome with both pleasure and exhaustion.

I feel him cleaning me up gently, with one of those soft towels, and he says, addressing not-Rai, “To keep this sensitive kitty from becoming overwhelmed, you must groom him.”

Not-Rai grooms my ears in that way he does—it feels like Rai is really here—and I sigh and murmur into his touch. I feel both devils curling around me as I relax my body around them. Kaltz is cool, which soothes me. Not-Rai feels like home and nostalgia. He grooms my ears and hair till I close my eyes.

But I’m not asleep. I hear him, talking to Kaltz. I am so exhausted I can barely understand the words.

“... never seen anything like that, and I’ve been alive for more than 3000 years. That was incredible.”

“Are you saying you want to give it try?”

“—Are you serious? Are you ready to go again so soon?”

“I’m the Devil of Grief. I never joke about sex. It’s one of the perks of being a twenty-year-old devil. But we do this my way.”

“Of course.”

“Then get over here. Do you require preparation? You seem the type to top more often than you bottom. Razel was like that, too. But he was also surprisingly open to... new experiences."

“Gods! Kaltz! No more about that old geezer. You shock the living shit out of me!”

“Verg, you are a devil. There would be a serious problem if you had living shit in you.”

What a weird conversation.

“Shh. The little pipsqueak isn’t asleep, yet.”

“That’s not a problem. Konoe, you will sleep deeply now, and dream of your beloved master. When you wake, you will feel refreshed and well.”

I do. But before I drift off, I hear one last thing from Kaltz.

“Verg, has it not occurred to you that you and I may have done this before?”

“What are you talking about? Done what before? Fucked? Of course, we haven’t. I'd never forget an experience like that. I’ve been after you since the moment I first laid eyes on you. You were still a cat, and you wouldn’t have me.”

“Hmm. That is only what you remember. However, what if I suggested you forget our time (or even our times) together, while you were under my spell? Has that thought really never occurred to you? ... Perhaps I enjoy your pursuit of me.”

“…!”

Chapter Text

I wake to the moon of light in that giant burgundy bed in my assigned room. I’m relieved to be alone. When I try to stretch out my limbs, I can hardly move. I’m unbelievably sore.

My legs can scarcely move, first of all. The muscles are weak and shaking. The backs of my thighs are painful, too—the skin is torn up, and the higher my hands reach, the worse shape my skin is in. I can’t even touch my ass it hurts so much. The bruising aside, I’ve been beaten with a cane, a riding crop, a hairbrush, Verg’s palm, and that paddle, and four of those yesterday! It’s no wonder my body hasn’t had a chance to heal.

The hair stands up on the back of my neck, and I shiver, thinking of the surreal experience in the ballroom last night. I miss Rai. I wish I could get him a message. The thought of his face brings tears to my eyes, and the door to my room abruptly opens.

It’s Sebastian, the butler. 

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” his accent sounds in the room. He enters like he belongs in here, closing the door behind him. “I thought you might sleep all day.”

He walks to the fireplace and stokes the fire to a reasonable height. 

I notice he isn’t carrying anything with him, strangely. It seems odd, but I don’t really understand what his job entails, either. I wonder if he might be able to get in touch with Rai, and I’m desperate for contact with him, so I ask.

“Interesting question, young one.” His response is direct. “Let me ask, why do you want to know?”

“I was hoping I might get him a message,” I say, keeping my tone light. “I just miss him, and I was hoping to ask him a question or two about why I’m here.”

“Oh?” Sebastian’s lips curve up at the corners slightly. “Do you feel as though you’ve been mistreated during your time with us? Perhaps treated unjustly?”

It’s almost as if he’s read my mind, I think. It frightens me a little, and I’m not sure how, or if, I should respond. Is he trying to help? I try to get a better read on the cat in front of me by focusing on his face when I notice he’s approached the bed quite closely.

He has pale skin—nearly as pale as Rai’s—and his ears are black and sharply pointed. His red eyes, which are very bright, almost glow, very much like Kaltz’s. In fact, there’s a lot of things about this cat that reminds me of Kaltz. His face is pleasing to the eye, but his eyes creep me out a little.

Upon second consideration, I decide against trusting him. There’s something not quite right about him. And where was he last night? Did he know what was going to be done to me? Why didn’t he warn me? I know he’s the lord of Ransen’s butler, but still. He’s a cat just like me. Wouldn’t it just be common courtesy?

I hear a soft laugh, which makes me look up from where I’m sitting on the bed. I realize he’s suddenly extremely close. When did he get so close to me? I back up a little, but I don’t have anywhere to go since I’m already pressing my body against the wall.

“What are you doing?” I ask nervously, trying not to appear intimidated.

“Your thoughts are such a mess, little kitty, such a jumble.” His voice is low. 

“What?” I’m shocked. What’s he saying? Is he really reading my thoughts? What the hell is he?

“I knew there was something special about you. I’ve known that silver cat for a while.... had an eye on him, you could say,” he continues. “You had to be something special to turn his head.”

A hand comes up to my chin and tilts it up towards his face. I don’t want to meet his gaze, so I immediately drop my eyes to the hands in my lap.

“Oi,” Sebastian sounds annoyed, and his claws draw against my chin. “Look at me.” He tilts my head sharply, forcing me to meet his eye.

When I do, I instantly regret it. There’s a roaring fire behind those red eyes of his. I realize that Sebastian is definitely not a cat. Those eyes are not the eyes of a cat—no way can they belong to a cat and no way he’s just a butler. Fear roils in the pit of my stomach, and I feel sick.

“You have such defiance in those eyes of yours,” his voice growls lowly. “You make me want to break you.”

His words send a shudder down my spine. How is this happening? Am I not even safe from the butler of this mansion? In the shelter of my assigned chamber? First thing upon waking? Isn’t there a safe haven in this entire mansion? I feel panic rising, and my body starts to shake.

“Why? W-what do you want with me?” And how can I get out of this?  “Please, don’t hurt me,” I add that last part quietly.

I bring my eyes up to this purported cat’s gaze in desperation. I have no idea what he has in store for me, but I know that whatever it is, I won’t be able to handle it. Not today, not now.

“Please. I’m begging you. Please don’t hurt me. My body is already is in terrible shape—I can’t take anything else—please.”

“What? You expect me to serve you in this house? Like the tea and biscuits I brought yesterday? For nothing? Do you think that was out of the goodness of my heart? I think you’re forgetting your role as a companion.” Despite his threatening words, his voice remains calm and steady, maintaining its odd musical quality, which frightens me even more.

He tilts my head again, then rips away the blanket covering my body. I realize I’m nude. Well, for all practical purposes, I’m nude. I’m still wearing the leather cuffs around my ankles and wrists, and the collar around my neck, thanks to last night’s activities. My whole body flushes pink in embarrassment with the sudden exposure, beginning with my cheeks, spreading up to my ears, and then down my neck to my chest. I can’t meet his eye.

Having him look at me, though—with the blood rushing through me like this has an unexpected effect. Blood rushing to my lower half, my cock stiffens slightly, just from having his eyes on me. That flusters me even more, which makes the blood flow more strongly, acting as a feedback loop. What is my body doing? What is the matter with me?

“So you like to be watched?” His voice is so smooth, like silk. 

“N-no—“ I stutter, embarrassed, keeping my eyes lowered. “I hate it—don’t look at me!”

“Would you rather I touch you?” I see his hand reaching out, and I dart away and manage to escape his grasp, rolling off the bed in the process.

“No!” I yell. “Stay away! Get off me!” The fear has taken hold of me now,  panic making me desperate. Really, though, where am I going to go?

The moment my feet hit the floor, I lose my balance. I have no power in my legs, due to last night’s excesses. My muscles are sore and aren’t responding. I also haven’t had anything to eat since those biscuits yesterday, so my body is weak from lack of nutrition. I promptly collapse to the floor in a quivering heap.

“Look at the poor kitty,” Sebastian says, voice filled with artificial tenderness, slinking up to my side. “You don’t even have the energy to run from me. Or is it, perhaps—“ He lifts me up into his arms and licks my ear, “that you secretly long for my attention? Your body yearns for me. Look! You’re already like this, and I’ve hardly touched you." I feel his palm pressing against my crotch, but I am determined to resist. "Why don’t you let me help you? We’d both be much more comfortable, and I can help you succeed as a companion.”

His deep voice sounds smooth and confident, and my body still strangely reacts to his ministrations. I cannot understand why. Is it something in his voice? Am I still in heat? I want Rai! Why did he leave me here?

“From what I understand,” his voice has lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, “you’ve grown more than a little attached to your owner, even in a short amount of time. I mean, I agree he is a hottie but is it more than that? Is there such a thing as love at first sight? I wonder.” Hearing amusement in his voice, I hate that he’s making fun of me.

“Sh-shut up! What are you?” I struggle to get away from him. “Are you some kind of d-demon?”

Another small chuckle comes from his chest, and he licks my ear again, which automatically flicks down in response. “Oh, sweet kitty! I’m simply one hell of a butler.”

“Please—put me down—please!” The begging and pleading in my voice quite literally disgust me.

“I will soon enough.” He brings me over to the chaise-lounge next to the fireplace, where he sets me down. It’s much closer to that fire than I would prefer, but I don’t have a choice as my legs aren’t working. I may have to do what he wants. I don’t see a way out of this.

“What do you even want with me? I’ve had enough—didn’t you see what happened yesterday?” I try to remember what Kaltz and Verg said to me last night, about my voice. Didn’t they say it had had some sort of effect on others? I try to use it to persuade Sebastian to leave me alone and let me recover.

“So, I did witness quite a bit of yesterday’s events. For example, the brothel owner beating you with a paddle to his content—or, nearly to his content—until you cleverly brought up the name of your owner to discourage him.”

Sebastian has me trapped on his lap—I’m still naked, and he is running his hands over my body, specifically over my ass, blistered and raw from yesterday's beatings. I wince every time he runs his hands over a particularly sore area. He’s got me facing his chest on my knees, sitting on my ankles. He easily pulls my body up and runs his hands along the back of my thighs. The brand stings terribly, too.

The way he describes the events from yesterday makes me sound so manipulative. It’s true I was desperate to get that cruel beating to stop—but it was horrible, and I didn’t think I deserved it.

“Why do you describe it like that?” I’m confused, and I squirm beneath his creeping fingers, my body still quaking with fear. I really hope he doesn’t want to continue anything like that, but the way he’s talking makes me think he has something similar in mind.

“Well, your master is quite competent at his profession. He could pose a threat to some cats.” Sebastian speaks those words directly into my ear. “There isn’t anything he can do to hurt me, however.”

Those words send a shudder down my spine, and I see my tail quivering out of the corner of my eye.

“What? Does that frighten you?” I hear something like joy in his voice. “You know, he will probably be out of town for at least a full week, perhaps longer. And yesterday was only your very first day. We took it easy on you last night, you know, thanks to the Devil of Grief.”

“E-easy?” My voice is quaking as much as my body is. But seriously, yesterday was easy? “I don’t even understand what I’ve been doing to deserve such harsh treatment in the first place!”

“It’s your attitude, of course.” Sebastian looks at my face directly. “You are full of yourself, you think you have rights, you deserve good treatment. You serve yourself first. When as a slave, as a companion, you ought to treat your owner as god, serving him in everything you do, treating his needs first, without heeding your own. If he sees fit to meet your needs, you will be thankful. Otherwise, you go without.”

“I go without,” I repeat. I think of the last time I was together with Rai, how gently he treated me, how he treated me like I was something precious, without even seeing to his own needs. Tears burn my eyes.

“I see you’re starting to understand. Finally. I can teach you how to do this for your owner, so you can be a better companion. Otherwise, he may look for a companion other than you, one who will meet his needs.”

“Another companion?” I’m shocked.

“Of course. A woman would be an excellent choice. Their wills are much more easily broken, at least from my experience. But all this is up to you, dear Konoe.” Sebastian looks at me again. “I think you have it in you to submit, and then you might become the perfect companion for your master. I’m only here to help you.” His voice sounds sincere.

“What do I have to do?” My voice is resigned, feeling dread in the pit of my belly.

“Whatever I wish,” Sebastian states smoothly. “And possibly foresee any other needs that might arise, needs I don’t even know I may have.”

“Whatever you wish,” I repeat quietly.

“Anything and everything.” Sebastian’s voice sounds hypnotic.

“Anything and everything,” I repeat, the dread sinking into my chest.

“And this will be how you keep your master pleased with you.” Sebastian runs his fingers through my hair, touching my ears. My ears flinch from his touch, reflexively flicking away. He sighs loudly.

“This will serve as our first example, right here. I wish to stroke your soft ears, yet you flinch away as if I were some terrible beast. Why not simply allow me to stroke them? It's not as though I'm trying to hurt you.”

A small noise is released from my throat—it sounds confused and scared, I think. I don't how to comply.

“Try it. Relax your ears, and allow me to touch them.”

I give it my best, lifting my ears away from my head. However, the moment Sebastian touches them, they instantly flatten against my head. They don’t obey my commands, even after repeated attempts. It’s ridiculous.

“Are you trying your best, Konoe?” Sebastian pulls his hand away from my ears and shines those frightening red eyes in my direction.

I really am. I don’t know why my ears won’t obey me, and fear is starting to build in my chest.

“Perhaps you need a little… incentive?” With those words, Sebastian changes how he is holding me without warning, flipping me onto my stomach against the chaise, pinning my hands over my head. He isn’t gentle about it either, I feel a burning sensation on my belly from the fabric of the chaise, and I think he may be sitting on me, straddling my back, which knocks a noisy breath out of me.

I hear a clicking sound overhead, and I watch his hands move away from my body, realizing that he has fastened my wrist cuffs to the chaise, restraining me. What is with this place? Is it designed for torture? Another shudder runs through me when I think of all the hidden areas in this house which are designed for use with these restraints. It truly terrifies me.

Because of the way I’m restrained now, my ass is nicely on display, due to the curved shape of the chaise, and how my head is at the foot of the chaise. Ugh. What is he planning? I feel those tears at the corners of my eyes threaten to fall, both from fear and humiliation. I am sure now I won’t be able to take another beating. I’m sure of it. So I do what I can, and start to plead and beg as best as I can, hoping Kaltz and Verg were correct about the sound of my voice.

“Sebastian, sir, please—I am trying to get my ears to stay still—but they just won’t do what I want. Please—I want to please you, I want to obey, but I don’t know how. Perhaps I just need a little more practice? Please, let me try some more? Please, just please don’t hurt me.”

As those pleas start flowing from my mouth, the tears start falling as well. I can feel a sob lurching in my chest, but I desperately hold it back.

“Ah, my darling kitten, I haven’t even done anything to you, yet.” He tries stroking my ear again, and now both are flattened against my head. That’s what my ears do when I am threatened and afraid. How wouldn’t he understand this himself, if he’s a cat, too?

My thoughts come to a grinding halt.

Wait. Perhaps he really isn’t a cat. Is this why he is obsessed with my ears?

As soon as I come to this realization, I can feel his hands—both of them—moving to my tail and stroking. It’s already fluffy from his earlier attentions, but this gentle stroking feels good. This, I will allow—but the thought remains in my mind—Sebastian is not a cat. And my skin is crawling.

“So, your tail. I’m permitted to stroke your tail.”

“Y-yes,” I manage to stutter. I think to add at the last minute, “You may do whatever you like to me, sir.”

“Oh yes, I know.” His voice sounds suddenly thick. It bothers me that I can’t see him. When I feel his hands exploring the crooked part of my tail, a strange sound comes out of my mouth, and my body suggestively rubs itself against the chaise, all on its own.

“Would you look at that?” He mumbles to himself. “You can feel in the crooked part.” He repeats the motion—brushing fur in the opposite direction—to see if he can elicit the same reaction, and to my dismay, my body moves again, in the same seductive way.

Closer to my ear now, “Is it a sexual feeling? Is that how it feels? Does it feel like that? Is that why you’re humping the chaise so indelicately?”

Gods, what is he asking me? I am so ashamed and embarrassed—but he is the one touching me like this. So why am I the one who is ashamed? He should be the one who feels ashamed! I feel myself heating up again, and I hear him laugh softly.

“Hmmpf—pink ears. So sweet. Did you show off these ears at the auction, I wonder? Perhaps that’s what grabbed the white kitty’s attention. It seems this innocent charm might attract him.”

He tries to touch them again, and I instinctively flatten them against my head. I don’t know how Verg touched them, except that he was quick about it, and he had been watching Rai. I think Verg learned to touch me by watching Rai.

I feel a sharp, hard yank against my tail—hard enough to lift my hips up off the chair, exact a popping sound from my spine, and wring a scream of pain from my throat. I’m forced to bring my legs up underneath my body to support myself. Tears are running down my face now, and the shock makes shivers of pain course up and down my spine. I slowly turn my head to glower at the person responsible, and Sebastian does not look pleased.

“I know you were beaten with a hairbrush and a riding crop before the party. Even Max, the Lord’s former favorite companion, went a round with you.” Sebastian is toying with my tail again, and seeing him even touch it makes my fur stand on end. “And I saw what Verg did to you—in front of all those guests—his fingers in your ass. The Lord was about to fuck you publicly when that ice devil came to your rescue.”

I feel his hand on my ass now, running over my cheeks smoothly, almost jealously. My gods, is he drooling?

“What did they do to you back in their bedroom, those two? That sex devil is obsessed with the depressed one, isn't he? But the devil of depression oozes his own type of sexuality, doesn’t he?”

I don’t answer—I’m not sure if it’s really a question, and I’m stunned at what he knows. I’m also terribly ashamed. He’s making me sound easy—like all of this was my choosing like I wanted to be used in this way. I feel my face and ears burning.

He smacks my ass, hard, and right on the sit spot. Because of the way I’m sitting, curled up on my knees, it burns terribly, even though he uses only his hand. I can’t help crying out in pain.

“I asked you a question,” he says. “You won’t let me stroke your ears, so the least you can do is answer my questions. This is part of your assignment. Tell me what they did to you.”

A small noise comes from my throat as I try to get it working again, and it turns into another cry as I’m spanked again.

“I will punish you and punish you soundly if you disobey me. So speak.” I feel his hand rubbing against my ass again, gooseflesh rising on my skin.

I clear my throat, lick my lips, and try to swallow my embarrassment. I manage to open my mouth, letting the words spill out as fast as they will come.

“Verg overdosed me on aphrodisiacs, I guess because I am in heat. Kaltz noticed my state and took me out of the room in order to save my life. They bathed me in cold water, rinsed off the paint, treated my wounds, and then they… fucked me.”

That’s as much as I can handle.

“Did they both fuck you?” I can hear his curiosity rising.

“Kind of?” I answer. “I was groggy, and Kaltz used a spell that took away my free will. He told me to imagine that Verg was my owner. And it seemed to work. So in my eyes, it looked like it was Rai was doing those things to me. And then Kaltz also joined in.”

“Oh really? How interesting. Was Verg also under the spell?”

“I believe he was, yes.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“…” I’m not sure how to answer this. If I answer the wrong way, will I offend this monster, and earn further punishment?

Smack!

Another direct hit on my behind leaves me shaking.

“Do you want another? It can be arranged. I think the question was simple enough.” His tone is very smooth and calm, but it frightens the wits out of me.

“Y-yes. I enjoyed it. I feel guilty about it today, though.” I commit to total honesty.

There is a short silence. “Guilt? What on earth for? Because you enjoyed yourself? That’s ridiculous.”

“No. Because I enjoyed thinking Rai was with me, but he wasn’t with me at all. It was all a lie.”

“But that was all for your benefit—it was a kindness. And yet you couldn’t enjoy it, and felt guilt instead?”

“No, that’s not it. I said I did enjoy it—when I thought I was with Rai, and also when I was with Kaltz. I didn’t feel guilty until afterward.”

Another small pause. And then out of nowhere—

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

“Ouch—ah—ouch!—please!” I am crying in earnest, now, tears flowing freely. My ass is so sore from the previous beatings, and my hips, bruised from banging against the table repeatedly during the paddling yesterday, are now being pushed against my body from these hard blows as well.

“I don’t understand! Please! Please stop!”

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

“Please—ah—won’t you—at least-ah!—Tell me—ouch!—Why?!” I try to ask during the punishment. I am trapped, arms restrained above my head, and how I am posed now, there is no protecting myself.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

The spanking stops all at once, the butler finally resting his hand on my still-burning ass. His hand feels cool to the touch. I don’t know how many times he spanked me. My breathy sobs are coming slower now, hitching, and I’m trying to calm them. A sense of utter despair floods into my body, into my heart, and into my soul—a dark muddy color—and I hate how it feels. I don’t know if it’s my own feelings of failure, feelings of loneliness, being misunderstood, or discouragement that has completely overwhelmed me, but this opulent chamber around me holds no appeal now. All I feel is sadness, pain, and fear, and I am helpless to make it stop.

“There.” It’s a satisfied sound, coming from the low voice behind me. “These feelings—the ones you are experiencing now—this is what a good, loyal companion must feel in order to serve his master well.”

I feel his hands in my hair, against my ears, which no longer resist his touch. He must have beaten the resistance out of me, quite literally. Fresh tears fall from my eyes, but I hold back the sobs.

“Don’t you appreciate what I have done for you?” His silken voice continues. “You can now submit yourself as a proper companion should. Maybe we should try some more activities before the Lord of Ransen comes to have his way with you.”

“The Lord of Ransen?” Oh no—not that portly fellow who was so rough, who was about to rape me last night, the cat who Kaltz rescued me from. “Have his way wi-“

“Oh, indeed. I could make him disappear for the day, however, for the right payment.” Sebastian’s voice sounds clever and full of ideas. “Keeping in mind, of course, that I’m currently in his employ.”

“What are you?” I ask timidly. I’m truly afraid of this Sebastian person behind me. I can’t see him from where I am perched on the chaise—I’m in a degrading position, arms stretched out to their full length in front of me, chest flat against the chaise, ass in the air, resting on top of my feet, my knees folded beneath my body. I can’t move, but my tail swishes back and forth nervously.

“I’m someone with whom you ought to be on friendly terms.” The answer is whispered directly into my ear, making me jump suddenly.

Smack! Smack! Another two blows to my behind, hard enough to bring fresh tears to my eyes—Why? Why did he hit me just now? What did I do?

“It’s for your fear of me. You needn’t flinch when I merely whisper in your ear. I’d like to train you out of that habit. It makes me feel like a… monster.” A small chuckle comes from behind me. “I’m sure your owner would appreciate it if you didn’t flinch from his whispers either. Especially when he means to be tender.”

It occurs to me that I didn’t ask the question out loud. Is he able to read my mind? Or is the expression just obvious on my face or my body somehow? I am beginning to think that Kaltz and Verg were lying when they said my voice held power. So far, I think it’s done nothing but get me in trouble today. It’s almost as though my voice has egged Sebastian on in his punishment.

“Oh, you’ve got that right!” The sudden whisper comes again—and I flinch again, and then ready myself for the upcoming punishment. Before he can hit me, the tears come, and I beg, “I’m sorry—I was just startled! I wasn’t trying to be rude. It's just I can’t see you, and your voice was on the other side before. I was just startled, that’s all. This all feels so intense when I can’t see you and I don’t know what to expect. Please don't hurt me anymore.”

No punishment comes—at least not this time—and there is a silent pause for a moment. I wonder if it’s finally over, and perhaps, the devils were right. Maybe I just wasn’t using my voice at the right time.

“You know, sweet Konoe, you’re right. It does feel much more intense when you can’t see, doesn’t it?” I suddenly feel something soft against my face, and then my vision goes dark. I can’t see anything. My body goes rigid in fear—I’m terrified. This is not what I wanted. All my fur stands on end, and I am terrified of what this cat/person/demon is going to do to me. I know he has it out for me, and I have no idea what to do to please him.

I’m exhausted, and my body is worn out. I am filled with terror. I do the only thing I know to do: beg and plead.

“P-please. Please. N-no.” The tears that flow from my eyes and sobs coming from my mouth make my words almost unrecognizable, so I try to speak more intelligibly. “Please. Let me go. Please release me. I don’t even know what you want from me.”

“Oh, I told you what I want. I want to teach you. And you wanted to learn. Are you changing your mind?”

My mind is working slowly now—my terror has taken over my functioning thought process. He’s teaching me something—what?

“T-to submit. T-to b-become a b-better c-companion for Rai.”

“Correct. However—“ And I feel another hard smack on my ass and cry out in response. “You should be referring to him as ‘your master,’ not so casually.”

“Yes-s-s-s, s-s-sir.” All those sibilant sounds in a row nearly turn into a hiss, but I desperately hold back for fear of reprisal.

“So, in submission, do you know what you’ve agreed to do for me?”

I pause to think a moment, which turns out to be too long for him to wait, and he smacks me again.

“Ouch! Ah—yes. I do know. I was only trying to c-collect my thoughts into w-words. I’m s-sorry. I’ve agreed to d-do anything y-you d-deem n-necessary.”

“Correct. And how do you think you are faring so far?”

“N-not very well, sir.” What kind of question is this?

“On what do you base your answer?”

“Well, m-my physical c-condition.” Is he going to make me say it?

A small chuckle from behind me again—the blindfold makes everything sound so much different—when he spanks my ass, it’s so loud in the room, and the feeling even more intense. When he isn’t hitting me, he’s rubbing his hands all over my ass, and that feels… much different from spanking. Weirdly, it feels disturbingly good. I hate it. I hate that I’m getting turned on by this. It must be the heat.

“Yes, I suppose that’s a good indication. I’m going to try some different things now. I want you to cooperate with me, Konoe. Do you understand? You will be punished if you don’t submit.”

Fear comes creeping down my spine, like a glass of ice water being poured on me. I swallow and nod. I get another smack on my ass, and I cry loudly again.

“I require an audible assent from you. I want to hear your voice, Konoe.”

“Yes, sir, I understand.” He wants to hear my voice? Why? Gods, my ass is killing me.

I hear the click before I feel the release of one of my wrists, and then I’m flipped over onto my back. My right hand is still above my head, my left hand is free, and I bring it in close to my body, sneakily giving my sore ass a quick rub. It feels hot to touch.

I feel a strange sensation above my waist—is it fabric?—and then I feel what I believe is his full body weight coming down and straddling me from above, on my thighs. That means he has a full view of me—and I’m sure he can see I’m half hard. I frantically try not to think about him staring at me, and I’m tempted to cover myself with my left hand. Even my tail floats above my private parts for just a moment. Then I hear his voice.

“Don’t cover yourself. I’m sitting like this so I can admire you. You’re a companion. You were purchased for your looks. You should be proud of how you look—especially nude. It’s fine if you’re a bit bashful—that innocent blush is lovely—but when your master wants to look at you, let him admire his purchase. Do not cover yourself.”

The way he says that—admire his purchase—it makes me feel like a toy, a thing, an object—and bile rises in my throat. I remember the humiliation of the auction, and I feel even more nauseated. I remember how I was treated in that place—how that gray cat pulled me aside for humiliation and beatings, and how he put his hands on me, trying (and succeeding) to break my spirit.

“Are those memories of the auction house?” I knew it! He’s reading my mind, just like the devils can do.

I can’t help the surprised sound that falls from my lips, but I follow it with a question. “Are you a devil? Kaltz and Verg can do that, too. They say if my mind is filled with emotional memories, it’s easy for them to read.”

A loud chuckle comes from Sebastian, and he says, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to just admit it, but yes. I’m a different sort than either of them. But yes, I am a demon. And keep that tail under control. It’s blocking my view.”

I grab my tail and tuck it underneath my body, to keep it safe, and I notice that my face is very hot. I wonder if I’ve been blushing this entire time, and if my ears are hot, too. I reach up to my ears, and the one I touch is burning up. And my chest is hot. I’m sure I must be pink. It’s a good thing he doesn’t want me to control my blushing because that isn’t something I could ever do—no matter how much I’m beaten.

I feel a touch against my ear again, and I fight to keep it where it is. The touch is startling—so my inclination is to flick it away, but I don’t. I keep my ears standing still, though I flinch a little, just from being startled. I worry the flinch will be offensive, so I try to breathe deeply—in and out—trying to tell myself I will be OK.

“That is better than before.” His voice is suddenly very close to my face. I feel something moist on my cheek—a tongue, maybe? He’s licking my jaw, from my chin upwards, and I fight all the instincts in my body to keep my body still.

“Very good. You want to try to throw me off, don’t you?” His voice is very low, almost like a growl.

“N-no. I w-want to please you.” I think this is what I want. What I really want is for this to be over, so he will get the fuck off me and leave me alone so my body will heal. Isn’t there a way to hurry this along?

I feel his body freeze over mine—everything gets very still—unearthly still—and I realize with horror he may have heard what I was thinking. My heart stops.

“Oh ho?”

Oh no. The dread and panic are piling up, and my heartbeat has become very, very loud in my ears. (At least my heart is working again.)

“Don’t you want to say that last thought out loud, my dear?”

“Th-that I w-want to p-please you?” I stutter desperately, hoping that will work.

“Not that, you idiot! I can read your damn mind!” I feel him grab my chin, and those claws of his come out against the soft skin on my face once more. “Tell me, out loud, what your last thought was!”

“I-I-I am j-just so t-tired from l-last night,” I try desperately to explain.

“I don’t want your explanation. I want to hear the last thought you had spoken out loud, or I will break your jaw, gods help me!”

From the grip he has on me, I really do believe him, and I am desperate, so I just whisper it as quickly as I can, guilty tears streaming down my face.

“I wished there was a way to hurry this along.”

“And there sure is! Let me tell you, there certainly is a way for me to hurry this along. I was only offering you a simple kindness, considering those activities that occurred last night. But if brevity is your single concern, well, I can meet those demands as well! Never in my life have I met such a demanding companion, by the gods!!”

Hearing his tone is really frightening, and I cower before him, wanting to hide in a hole. I'm filled with deep and terrible regret--but I just couldn't stop that thought in time. My fear is overwhelming. I’m desperate to appease him, and I try to do just that.

“S-Sebastian, sir, I’m s-so sorry. I w-was foolish. I d-didn’t kn-now. I’m t-tired, and m-my b-body is s-sore. I was b-being s-selfish, and a t-terrible c-companion, and I t-took advantage of y-your g-graciousness to h-help m-me b-better m-myself.”

The tears are flowing freely between my words, sobs nearly overcoming my ability to speak. I’m not sure if I’m desperate to appease him because I don’t know what he’s going to do to me—would a beating be better than whatever he’s going to do to me next?

“P-please h-have m-mercy on m-me. I d-don’t kn-now any b-better.”

I don’t know what else I can say at this point, but I can feel pure rage above me, which is terrifying, since this cat hasn't expressed any emotions at all so far, except for that little bit of drooling earlier, whatever that was supposed to be. I never even felt any desire before that, so that’s why I was caught so off guard by his attention. 

He lets my chin go, and I feel his hand sliding down to my throat, which he wraps his hand around, ever so slowly. The panic rises—I want to grab his hand with my free one and fight him off, but I know if I do, he will accuse me of not submitting, so I force my free hand down, and I grab my tail instead, to keep it in place. He starts to squeeze—lightly—putting even pressure against my throat. I realize he could easily kill me if he wanted to. Even if I fought my hardest, I wouldn’t have a chance with my dominant hand restrained. He probably wants me to realize that, and I do.

I become very still—trying not to move, trying to be as submissive as possible—but I can’t see his face, and I can’t see what he is doing, so fear and anxiety are becoming unbearable the longer this goes on. I feel tears falling down my cheeks, but I still don't move. He keeps his hand around my throat for a couple of minutes or so—but it feels like an eternity. Once he lets go of my throat, he grabs me by my tail again, and yanks, hard—hard enough to flip me over to my front again.

I scream out in pain—my tail is going to break with all this rough handling! It’s not meant to carry all my weight like this, and it’s already fluffed out and stiff. I feel the pop in my spine again, and it hurts so much!

“That’s good, I want to hear you—don’t stifle your voice.” His voice sounds remarkably calm, for as angry as I think he is. However, the way he’s grabbing me, pulling my tail to position me—back with my legs beneath me like before, and then spreading my legs wide from there—I yell again when I feel a pop in my hips—I’ve had so much trauma to my lower region, I dread what is coming next. I squeeze my eyes closed behind the blindfold.

And then—without any preparation, without any lubrication, without any warning—I feel his entire length tear into me. I feel like I am being torn apart—and the pain wrenches a scream from my innermost being. My drawn claws grab the chaise with all their might, and my fangs are bared, and my voice is at top volume.

He is violating me with all of his anger, all of his resentment, all of his negative emotion—and I feel them in the second thrust, as he pulls all the way out and thrusts back in, exactly like the first. It hurts even more than the first if such a thing is possible. A second scream tears from my throat, but I find myself at the edge of despair.

“Please!” I scream. “Please—no! Not so rough! I can't—“ and I don’t get a chance to finish because he’s thrusting in and out again.

“You’re so nice and warm—so tight—despite those activities from last night with those other devils.” His voice is covered with something that sounds like passion—he’s enjoying this—and my stomach turns over, and I feel vomit rising in my throat from the pain. In fact, I do vomit, over the side of the chaise onto the floor, around the fourth thrust.

I feel my breath being taken away with each thrust, and after the first half dozen thrusts, my blood starts to act as a lubricant—so they become a little smoother. Still incredibly painful, but smoother—and so he quickens his pace, which is torture in itself, and I don’t know how to handle the increase in tempo. I feel like my insides are on fire, though I'm not fighting him anymore. I can't. I just don't have the energy. The pain is too much, and I've lost the will to fight. I just let him do what he wants with my body, feeling my insides burning up. The thought crosses my mind, what if I'm ruined for my master, because of one, careless thought? I'm filled with regret.

What has happened to me that I’m now being raped by a demon? I hear small sobbing sounds in the room—crying, desperate sobbing sounds—and I realize that they are from me. They sound so pathetic and gross, and I am powerless to help myself. 

“No, those sounds aren’t pathetic,” his silken voice floats directly into my ears from behind me. “I love the sound of your cries. It’s a beautiful noise—like music to my ears. It soothes my very soul. As if your cries were made for me. I want to take you with me, so you can cry for me the rest of eternity.”

The thought fills me with absolute terror. I want this blindfold off—and I think of how I got here—how my stupid uncontrolled thoughts of trying to get out of this faster were a good idea—and sure enough—it’s not too much longer until Sebastian’s pace quickens even more, and then finally, I hear him say, “Not too much longer now. I could make it pleasant for you, you know. But you were the one who was in a big hurry.”

I snarl and snap back at him, over my shoulder. “I want for nothing but my master.”

“Oh ho? Is that the case?” I feel him change his angle slightly. I will not cooperate. My body is tense, all the way from my shoulders to my feet. I’m squeezing my eyes closed, despite the blindfold, to keep the tears in check, and I’m clamping my mouth closed against the sobs. My dick was half hard earlier, but it went soft immediately upon penetration. The pain was too much—all at once—it was way too intense. And I don’t understand why Sebastian hates me. I’m confused as to why he is hurting me like this. It’s so violent—this doesn’t feel like sex at all—it feels like a way for him to establish dominance and superiority. I already know that he is superior and dominant. Did he feel he needed to teach me another way?

I feel his dick inside me, trying to brush against my prostate—against that hidden part inside of me that can make me feel so wonderful—but I won’t relax. I want this over. I’m stubborn about this, and I want this done, and I don’t need to feel good. It feels like shit, and I would just feel confused if it ended up feeling good.

Suddenly, I realize what he’s trying to do. Oh no.

“We are going to stay like this all day, Konoe, until you let yourself enjoy this activity with me,” Sebastian says. His voice is neutral yet firm. He pulls all the way out, and then slowly pushes himself back in, dragging right along that spot I enjoy so much. I can feel my body quivering with need, but I force it down.

“Why do you do this to yourself, kitty?” I feel his hands on my ass. They even creep around and surround my dick, stroking me gently, as though he weren’t raping me, thrusting into me completely dry and without warning.

“I don’t know what you want from me!” My voice is small. I'm crying openly now, frustrated, confused.

“Of course you do, young one.” Now his tone is filled false sincerity, false loving tenderness. “You know I want you to be the best companion there is out there. There may be times your owner needs this kind of sex. He needs to rape you. What do you do? Pout? Hell no. Put out—which yes, you have. But you are withholding your love and kindness. If he offers something to you—anything—it could be a form of forgiveness (because you have offended him) or an olive branch (perhaps he did something that bothered you, which he should never need to do, as you are the pet), you should never ignore this. You must respond, immediately and with gusto. Lap up every ounce of attention you get from your owner because it may very well be the last you ever get.”

I can feel a growl starting in the back of my throat. Is he fucking kidding?

“Konoe, I am a demon. I can go all day if I have to. Can you? Your body is in pretty bad shape inside. If I had known how bad of shape you were in, I might have saved this lesson for another day, but I think you will learn this lesson that much more effectively. Do you know what you need to do? That sound I'm hearing had better be a loud purr and not a growl.”

To the best of my ability, I change it from a growl to a purr. Then, I try to relax my body, as best as I can, at least my lower body. And as soon as I do, I feel the hard, fast thrusting begin again—and gods! It’s so painful! Only Ribika herself could save me now. My ass is burning up—every time that monstrous dick enters me, I can almost feel the slimy gore coming out with it—he's flaying me alive, from the inside out.

“That’s just it—you’re giving a piece of yourself to me! Excellent.”

Commentary… Ugh—I try not to think about the commentary. Nothing good will come from it. But when I relax, I try to start concentrating on the feelings—and still, only pain—raw pain—is here. So I stay in the pain for a little while and then wait. As the pounding continues, I notice Sebastian starts to pick up the pace again, moving slightly with each thrust. I realize I’ll need to give him a hint when it starts to feel good, so I’m pretty quiet at first. When the first white flash sparkles across my vision—it’s so strange, since I’m blindfolded, and I see nothing—I cry out—or I try to—and he moves right past it.

I try again, “Sebastian, sir, when you…”

“Yes, kitty?”

“I just felt a very sensitive spot back there when you thrust in a particular place.”

“Did you?”

“Isn’t that what you were looking for?”

“Oh, I suppose it was something like I was looking for.”

“Oh.” I’m literally crestfallen. I sink my head into my arms, stretched out in front of me on the chaise. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. “S-sir?”

“What is it?”

“Would you like me to let you know when it feels good? Or would you like me to keep my noise to a minimum? I don't understand what you want from me.” It can’t hurt to be direct, can it?

“Hmm. Excellent question. It might be nice to know what feels good and what doesn’t. If I do something that hurts you, let me know. If I do something pleasurable, let me know.” It all hurts, asshole!

I can do that, and I nod. I get another really hard spank on the back of my ass, and I cry out again, in surprise—did he grow another hand? How can he fuck me and spank me and hold onto me like that, all at the same time? Whose hand was that??

“Remember to use your words, Konoe. I like to hear your voice. I bet your owner does, too. It soothes the soul.”

What does that mean? Soothes the soul. I grumble to myself. As Sebastian continues fucking me roughly, there are many more times that I am hurt than feel good, and it doesn’t feel like Sebastian is paying attention to any of this.

“I am paying attention. I just want to see how accurate you’re being, or if you’re being overly sensitive. That’s all.”

I guess that makes sense. But I am sure my insides can’t take much more. I hope I can come soon, that we both can come soon. And an idea pops into my head.

“Sebastian. Sir.” I lower my voice to the lowest pitch I can manage, but I struggle to find the sensual voice I’m trying to project—as each of Sebastian’s thrusts violently pushes the air out of my lungs, drowning out my desperate attempt to sound willing and eager. “Is there anything I can do that you would find more pleasurable? I realize you’re doing most of the work since I’m restrained. But what would you like me to do that will increase your pleasure? Is there anything that brings you to the edge?”

Sebastian stops his thrusting quite suddenly. I am a little frightened. After all this discussion about being responsive to my master’s needs, I’m pretty sure this is what he as talking about. But with my eyes blindfolded, I can’t see Sebastian’s expression.

I feel featherlight touch against my skin, and suddenly, my neck is pulled back at a painfully awkward angle. My lips are taken, quite violently but passionately—which is a huge relief from the violence I was just feeling. I feel Sebastian’s long tongue exploring my mouth—I think this is the first time he’s kissed me deeply—and he literally “takes me.” He is a surprisingly good kisser.

“Wow,” I can’t help sighing. Then, I add cleverly, “Verg says he’s the Devil of Pleasure, but how, when you kiss like this? Why didn’t you get that job?”

Apparently, that was the right thing to say, because I hear another sound of him sighing, “What a sweet thing you are,” before kissing me again, and then he says, “Come here.”

The movements are different now. They are much more gentle and considerate. I’m still very sore from the initial penetration (I am still not used to this kind of contact, plus our bodies differ a lot in stature), but the demon has slowed down, it seems in kindness or consideration. So I try to keep it up—using the only weapon I have at my disposal: my voice.

“Ah—mmm,” I sigh. “That feels good.” It doesn’t really feel that good. It’s just that it feels a million times better than whatever that violence was earlier, and I know I can’t do that again.

I feel him whispering in my ear again, “Tell me how you like it.”

“Slow—gentle—but like you mean it,” I say, without hesitation, and I arch my back into his touches to show my appreciation. I feel disgusted in my own actions raising its ugly head—I can’t believe I’ve humbled myself to this monster’s level, but I have to get out of this without being fucked to death, and I’m afraid he won’t stop otherwise. So I just play along. What’s the Two Cane saying? Is this what “fake it till you make it” means?

I sigh loudly again as if I’ve never felt anything better than this, and I realize I may have a small problem, as my dick isn’t responding, and I don't have access to it myself--at least not easily. The blindfold works to my advantage, however, and these more tender touches help me a little.

“Tell me what you want.” I feel his hands against my ass again, right where we are connected. It’s disconcerting. “I know I was hurting you. How do you want me to touch you?”

Uh—what? Is he serious? My ears flush bright red again—I know they are, especially when I feel something damp against the tip of one of them.

“You know, the jewelry looks amazingly sexy against your skin when it flushes pink like this. I love to fluster you, Konoe. It’s so unusual to find a companion who isn’t comfortable with his body’s responses, who doesn’t just embrace them, and I think your reactions are just adorable.”

Him saying that doesn’t help me. But I lick my lips, and I concentrate, pretending for a moment that Rai is behind me. I ignore the liquid I feel dripping down my thighs—pretending it’s Rai’s precome and not the blood from that violent treatment that it most likely is. I relax my body as best as I can, and I open my mouth.

“I like slower movement—teasing at first,” my shy voice manages to say. He starts moving slowly to my relief, so I add, “and maybe not in and out all the way, maybe not your entire length withdrawing—if you would, use slightly shorter strokes, please?”

He complies, to my disbelief. It starts to feel much better.

“What about my hands, Konoe?” I shiver when he says my name with that low voice of his. He is not Rai, but there’s something about it when he says my name. There’s a monster fucking me, and he’s allowing me to control this now, with only my words. “Do you want me to touch your chest, like this? Play with your nipples?”

I feel his hands reaching under my body, which is pressed hard against the chaise, and he finds my nipples and squeezes the tender flesh between his forefingers and thumbs—rolling them teasingly. He must have licked his fingers first because they feel cold and lubricated. It feels good.

“Ah—ugh…” I sigh. “I think I want you to touch my—“ Oh, crap, I can’t ask for this. And so I say, “That’s nice.”

I can feel him smiling behind me, and he stops—he stops moving, too. I look behind me, even with the blindfold on, knowing I can’t see anything.

“You were doing so well, Konoe. Try again, so we can keep this positive. One more time, hmm?” I feel his palm, flattening against my ass again, a threat.

Quickly, I realize this is the only warning I will get, so I rush the words, “My dick! I want you to touch my dick.”

“Ah, I see.” The slow movements start again, and he slides his hands down my sides, and one hand grabs my dick, palming my groin firmly, causing me to release a lewd-sounding sigh, much to my embarrassment.

“And maybe—would you stroke me?” I ask timidly.

“Gladly.” Using featherlight, teasing strokes, he strokes my dick, which makes it harden, but it starts to drive me insane. That is not enough stimulation, and he knows it!

“Please,” I beg. “Please—uh—ah…”

“I like that you’re being so respectful, Konoe,” comes the voice again. “But you need to be more specific. I don’t know what you want.” Even though I’m practically humping his hand, he can’t figure out what I’m saying? Frustration starts to build in my mind and in my body, and I lick my lips.

“Please—stroke me a little more firmly,” I ask, very quietly, into my arms in the chaise. I know my face is burning up. I feel him kiss my pink ears again.

“Adorable.” Another light kiss and lick to the outer part of my ear. “You’re coming out of your shell. Very good.”

I feel his other hand traveling down toward my very sore tail, and he starts to play with the fur on the tip. I think, wait—I could ask about this, too!

“Wait—Sebastian, sir—please—my tail—would you stroke the base of my tail? Firmly, but not pulling too hard?”

“That was very specific, and nicely requested, as well.” He rewards me with another kiss and also by obliging my request. I realize my body is finally responding, and I am melting into the sensations.

Sweet sighs are coming out of my mouth now—with every one of his gentle thrusts, as well as corresponding strokes to my dick and tail—I can’t help the look on my face nor how my pleasure is building. I don't care at this point, either.

I lick my lips again, and I manage to ask, “Is this pleasing to you? Am I pleasing to you? Should I do anything more?”

Sebastian laughs quietly and says, “No, just relax into the pleasure—I can feel your anxiety and shame from feeling pleasure like this. This is a gift from me to you. You need to feel it when it’s offered to you from those above you.”

Those above me? That makes my hackles raise, but the pleasure is making my mind fuzzy. And he’s controlling my mind with how I’m feeling right now. And I feel such shame for having asked for what I wanted. My face is flushing, and my chest is flushing, when suddenly he changes his angle of thrusting while keeping his pace slow and gentle.

“Waa—wait—ahhhhh!” It feels so good, but also overwhelming—it’s that secret spot inside me again, and I arch my body against his. The noises that come out of me are so loud that I cover my mouth with my arms against the chaise.

“Remember what I said about not hiding your voice, Konoe.” I feel a palm, flat against my ass, even while he is thrusting into me. I think it was the hand that was rubbing my tail... or else he really does have an extra hand?  “Don’t hide it. Let out your voice. I want to know how you feel.”

So I move my mouth away from my arm, tilting my head to the side, and let out those sounds free into the room, totally ashamed. He brushes the spot again, and the sensation electrifies my body. My voice seems to light up the room. I can almost see it, despite being blindfolded.

“I can’t hold on—if you keep—d-doing that!” I am desperate for release.

“Oh, I’d like you to wait till I’m ready, dear Konoe.” What? What is this? How can I wait?

“What? I don’t think I c—ahhhhh!” Another near scream is pulled from my body as he brushes the spot inside me again. Tears are flowing from my eyes. I don’t think I can wait. The change from extreme pain I was in earlier to this earth-shattering pleasure is nerve-wracking. I’m not sure how to handle it, and I do my best to hold on, hoping he will finish soon.

He speeds up his pace again, close to that brutal speed he was doing before—only this time, brushing that sensitive spot repeatedly, causing me to cry out and lose my breath each time. It’s such a strange sensation because my insides are definitely still sore, but the pleasure seems to overtake the pain.

I hang on as long as I can, but soon—I shout, “Soon, sir—I can’t—please!”

I’m begging and sobbing again—this time with pleasure as the cause of being overwhelmed, rather than pain. Or is it pain? Perhaps it’s painful as well.

“All right, go ahead and come.” The words are spoken, and I have never been so relieved. His hand on my dick lightens its pressure slightly, and I climax all over the chaise and in his hand.

It feels like all the frustration and tears I’d been experiencing this morning are released in a great wave of pleasure—a huge sense of relief from my hips—my body clenching around his dick inside me as I experience it. I can hear him stuttering as I come, so he must be experiencing his own climax as well—and my gods, he’d better be done with me, because I cannot take any more of this.

As I lie there, with my arm stretched out in front of me on the chaise, I feel him pull out of my body and climax on top of my ass. It burns since my skin is so tender and sore.

“Ah—look at that. All pink, the white mixed with your blood—so beautiful against your skin.”

I’m just glad I can’t see it. At this moment, I need to rest and relax. I don’t feel like I can move. When he pulled out, it felt like he might have pulled some of my insides with him, but I don’t want to think about that.

I need to bathe, and that’s going to be unpleasant. It’s going to sting. But I need to take care of my skin. I will as soon as I have the energy.

I hear another click, and realize he’s released the other wrist from its restraint. I pull my arm underneath my body, and curl my tail around myself on the chaise, remaining still.

“You look a mess, Konoe,” Sebastian says. “You must get cleaned up before someone sees you like this.”

“Can’t I please just rest a moment? Please? Just for five minutes?” I plead. The blindfold is removed, and I boldly meet those amazingly frightening red eyes. I’m so thankful he blindfolded me. “Didn’t I please you? Won’t you permit me to rest just a short while first?”

Sebastian lets out a short, exasperated sigh, rubbing my ears, which I manage to keep perfectly still. They do not flick down or out of his reach, much to my joy. He seems pleased with this development as well.

“All right. I will finish some work on this floor. But when I return, you’ll need to bathe. I won’t take any trouble from you, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you!” I stay right where I am, and close my eyes for a much-needed rest. My sore self doesn’t move an inch from the chaise—except for my arms being pulled close to my body and my tail, coiling around myself in a tight ball.