Playing With Fire

by Sean Michael

  Playing with Fire

  Copyright © 2004 by Sean Michael

  All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, PO Box 4351, Grand Junction, CO 81502.

  ISBN: 0-9762384-3-8

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Torquere Press electronic edition / January 2005

  Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, PO Box 4351, Grand Junction, CO 81502.

  http://www.torquerepress.com

  Chapter One

  The hands dressing him were careful, only the most perfect of his pets allowed so close. The fiery silks were carefully draped against his skin -- the deepest reds closest to him, the colors slowly growing lighter in weight and shade.

  One soft hand was in his hair, carefully arranging the ebony curls into the illusion of effortless muss, another rubbed a lotion containing crushed pearls into his fingers and wrists. Fire rubies were added to his throat, ears, carefully hung in his hair.

  Honestly, the trials and tribulations of having to entertain were quite exhausting. Still, it was time that lordlings that he allowed to live on his lands paid him tribute and for that, he would appear in the salle and... mingle.

  "Lord Zujan?" His current favorite, a sweet boy with a quick mind and an eager mouth, appeared, dressed in a short, white tunic, legs bare for his touch, his brand just visible on the soft inner thigh.

  "Yes, Rall?" He sent a single firefaery over to flit about, just tease Rall with its heat.

  "The ballrooms are prepared, as you've requested. The tables are laid. Shall I have the harem prepared and presented?"

  He tilted his head, considering. "Have the harem decorated and bound and mounted on the walls as art in the dining room."

  There were the handiest crystalline phalluses mounted randomly, jewel-studded chains above to stretch the lovely bodies out. One must impress the gentry, after all.

  "All of them, Lord Zujan?" Rall asked softly.

  "You will serve me, Pet. And have a few scattered about as side tables, benches." With a click of his fingers, the firefaery dissipated, energy flowing back into him.

  Rall's eyes showed both disappointment and relief as the firefaery disappeared, his pet nodded though. "I will take care of everything, my Lord."

  "Excellent." He met the soft green eyes with his own. "Do not disappoint me, Pet."

  Fear flashed through Rall's eyes, but his Pet boldly promised that he would not be disappointed.

  "Is there anything else, my Lord?"

  "Mmm... have the kitchen send up something sweet, something to sate my hunger."

  "The kitchen, my lord? Or the harem?"

  He chuckled. "Cheeky. The kitchen. I will feed my other hungers from you."

  Rall bowed to him, eyes alight. "Yes, sir."

  Another bow and his pet left to do his bidding.

  Such a good boy. It would be a shame to lose him back into his father's arms.

  His other pets continued to fuss over him, pressing close, adoring him. He allowed it for a few moments, allowed the touches and soft kisses, the need and want pouring over him, warming him. Soon enough the snack was brought by a sweet little thing and he dismissed them all, allowing himself the luxury of solitude.

  There wouldn't be much solitude once he began to welcome his guests, each one would demand his time and attention. There would be gifts and simpering and fawning and as he'd invited them, he'd have to keep from frying too many of them.

  A few here and there served as a lovely reminder. Too many and one got a bad reputation.

  The firefaeries began to appear -- violet and blue, ruby and orange, dancing together, drawn to him, their laughter silent, their heat fierce as they stole bits and bites of pastry, tiny feet leaving smoldering marks on the dough.

  "My lovely ones." Zujan laughed with them, entranced, overjoyed as he always was at their flame, their beauty.

  The door opened, sending the firefaeries scattering.

  Rall came to him. "My lord, your guests are arriving."

  He sighed dramatically and stood, looking up into Rall's eyes. "Am I beautiful, Pet? Will I stun all I see?"

  "Yes, my Lord. There has never been anyone as beautiful as you."

  "Excellent answer, Pet." He nodded toward the door. "Come, let us make an entrance and I will fascinate the commoners."

  "You would fascinate them no matter how you entered, my Lord." Rall held out his arm.

  He slid his hand over Rall's skin, sending a frisson of heat into his Pet. "Of course I would."

  "Yes, my Lord." He got a smile from Rall and then they were through the door and he was being announced, Rall standing proudly next to him.

  The palace was beautifully decorated, his harem well-bound and mounted upon the blood-red silk-covered walls, the chandeliers all lit, flames everywhere.

  Perfectly lovely.

  The low chatter stopped, dozens upon dozens of eyes staring at him. "Good evening. Welcome to my home."

  There was silence for a very long moment and then someone, a Duke from just west of his demesne, bowed low. "Thank you, Lord Zujan."

  He dipped his head, moving gracefully down the long staircase and along the hallway to take his seat in the well-padded chair at the head of the hall. It rested on a pedestal, allowing him to meet every man's eyes.

  Rall sat at his feet, his pet obedient and sweet.

  The guests milled around, some of them looking with open amazement at the live decorations, others looking upon them in revulsion or horror. One by one, in no apparent order, they came to pay their respects. The smart ones offered gifts in an attempt to curry his favour.

  His fingers tangled in Rall's hair as he listened to the bevy of idiots drone on and on. Would the torture never end?

  King Blethin was announced. *King* Blethin. The man had a nerve. He was an older man, with a round wife and a princeling in tow.

  A young, strapping princeling who was entirely not his type. Tall. Muscled. Golden skin. Long hair the colour of wheat with shots of flame.

  And eyes like a midnight sky.

  Luscious. He needed another princeling. Honestly.

  He purred, the sound familiar enough to make Rall tense.

  "My Lord," murmured the king, bowing. His wife curtseyed, but the prince just stood there, watching him, defiant, head held high.

  "We have brought you the finest furs of our lands as a very small token of our friendship." A cloak was handed to him, black and soft, warm. "The rest of the furs were left with your staff."

  The fur was lovely, and he nodded happily. "You are a generous man. How kind of you to attend."

  And to bring your prince to me.

  "We are neighbors, my Lord. It was an honor to be invited." The king all but tripped over his own tongue to lick Zujan's boots. The prince however stood behind his father, still straight and proud, those blue eyes almost looking through him.

  This was a pound one. A strong one.

  "And will your companion introduce himself?" Come, lovely one. Speak to me.

  "This is my son, Wintras." The king made a hand gesture to his son, head jerking. "Bow to his Lordship," the man hissed.

  Wintras stood for a long time and then gave him a half bow, eyes never leaving his.

  He heard the shock ripple through his audience as one of his eyebrows arched and he tilted his head. "Wintras."

  "That's what my father said."

  Blethin's gasp was audible, the man going red at his son's words.

  "Attractive and observant. How very lucky you are, Blethin." His voice was cool, clipped. "Perhaps he is simply
overtaken by my beauty."

  "Maybe I just don't like having to give up our best furs to you on top of everything else you've stolen."

  The room went silent and he hid his smile as he stood, firefaeries appearing upon command. Poor stupid little fool. "You misspeak, boy. All I have is mine to take."

  The prince stood his ground, cocky and confident, arrogant. "I stand by my words."

  "Indeed?"

  An older man, an Earl hurried over. "Please, your majesty, my lord. The boy is young..."

  "I am the Prince of the Western Lands. When I take my father's place I will end your terror of my people."

  Zujan held out one hand, a flame appearing, the air in the ballroom going cold. "You have not yet learned terror, young one."

  Heavens and skies, he was having fun.

  "You think a few party tricks are going to teach me terror?" Those amazing blue eyes were steady, watching him, challenging him.

  "No." He turned to the Queen, smiling into her tear-filled eyes. "I will offer you the choice, Lady. Give your son to me or I will roast him where he stands."

  She fell to her knees, her husband joining her. "Please, your lordship, please spare his life!"

  "Get up," growled the boy. "Stop debasing yourselves."

  "Excellent." He snapped his fingers, his guards appearing immediately. "Take the Prince down to the dungeons and get him well-settled."

  "You can't just take me prisoner!"

  "Of course, not. Your family just offered you to me, in front of all my company." He waved his hand idly. "Take him away."

  "You intimidated them!" The Prince didn't fight his captors, glaring at him instead.

  Blethin had joined his wife in mewling. They? Were getting boring.

  He allowed the firefaeries to exercise their own will, watching as they moved in, swirling and heating. The play continued until attacked by worried nobles, at which point they attacked, stroking with their burning touch. He sat, enjoying the chaos, fingers returning to Rall's hair. "Are you enjoying yourself, Pet?"

  "Y...yes, my Lord."

  "Excellent. I am as well."

  "Stop this! You are a madman!" Wintras shouted at him from across the room as the guards dragged him away. "Rush him! There are many of you and only one of him! He's insane!"

  "They're so entertaining those first few days, don't you agree?" He smiled coldly at the king and his wife. "It is by his own lack of self-control that he goes. He will not be permanently harmed -- assuming he learns, of course."

  "Thank you for sparing him, your majesty," whimpered the queen.

  "You are merciful," added the king, jeweled fingers shaking.

  He nodded, in total agreement. Indeed. Most merciful.

  Amused and merciful.

  And the owner of some lovely furs.

  ***

  Wintras shivered and glared balefully at the walls. He hadn't thought Lord Zujan had actually meant a dungeon when he'd said dungeon. But it was a dark, cold, damp, smelly, underground stone prison. A dungeon.

  And they'd taken his furs, his finery, leaving him quite naked. Normally this wouldn't be a problem -- he far preferred his own flesh to the trappings of court clothes, but it was cold and damp. And smelly and dark.

  He'd been abandoned down here. No doubt left to die.

  An older man came to offer him a cup of water and a bowl of gruel, sliding them into the cell without a word.

  He went to the bars. "Help me."

  The man gave him a sympathetic look. "You made a foolish mistake at the feast, laddie."

  "Someone needed to stand up to him. If more people did he wouldn't be running amok over everyone and everything." He shivered as a draft slid over his bare skin. "Please. Help me escape, I shall not forget it."

  "There is no escape. Have hope, learn to control your temper and the lord will return you to your family in time. He is... mercurial, but often keeps his word."

  "I will never submit to him -- never!" He pushed the food back out, spilling it onto the stone floor.

  "They all say that, in the beginning, lad." The old man shook his head, retrieving the dishes and speaking to the ever-present guards. "No food or water for this one for a full day."

  "Don't bother bringing any tomorrow either -- I will not take his food and the water is likely drugged." He held his head high. He would die before he bowed to that monster.

  "As you wish, Pet." The low voice was rich with amusement and wicked pleasure, the mage himself standing quietly in the shadows. "He will have no sustenance lest it comes from my lips."

  He couldn't stop the shiver that went through him, though he told himself it was from the cold. "Then you break your word and will kill me despite what you have said to my parents."

  "Oh, the will to live burns within you, Pet, brighter even than your pride."

  "You don't know me." He would escape. He would get away. He would not submit to this monster who ruled by fear.

  "Ah, but I know you as well as you know me, Pet, and I will know you inside and out. Have faith." The black ringlets shone in the firelight, the small body seeming larger in the shadows.

  He stood his ground, though his instinct was to shrink into the back of his cell and let the cold stone steal the sudden heat from his body. "I have faith in myself, Zujan."

  "Excellent. I have faith in you, also." The dark eyes sparkled. "How lovely that we're in sync so quickly. It bodes well."

  "You try to turn even my own words against me, but I will not rise to your bait." In sync. As if the firemage knew anything about him.

  "No? Rall, Pet? Would you rise to my bait?" The near naked boy that attended the mage stepped around, kneeling before the man and nuzzling, buttocks clearly visible, exposed in the short tunic.

  He spat through the bars. "Pig."

  "Now, now. Rall is most lovely and not a pig at all." One hand stroked through the boy's hair, petting.

  "I meant you. Keeping humans as pets. It's an abomination." Damn the man, nothing seemed to affect him.

  "I assure you, Rall is well-cared for, most devoted. Do I hold you against your will, Pet?"

  "No, my lord. I live to serve you."

  Wintras snorted. "You mean you live because you serve."

  Rall didn't even turn at his words, the boy continuing to nuzzle Zujan's crotch.

  Zujan shook his head, eyes sure. "Rall's father offered his son willing, Rall is not a prisoner here."

  "Willingly. Like my father offered me?"

  "There was precious little hesitation on your parents' part, Pet."

  Was Zujan really serious? Was that how he saw things? All twisted up like that? "You told them you would kill me if they didn't agree -- you were already burning up half your *guests*."

  "The situation would never have occurred, had you kept your tongue."

  "I did not express any desire to speak to you, Zujan. You were the one who insisted on an introduction." The mage would not put this on him. True enough, he would not kowtow when asked to do so, but it was Zujan who had prompted the communication.

  One eyebrow raised. "And you haven't the self-control to answer politely."

  "You do not deserve any civility." He stood proudly. He could be as calm and unruffled as Zujan.

  "And what complaint had you with me ere you entered my hall?"

  "You rule by fear. You take whatever you want. It isn't right."

  "I take what I can and I have you, right or wrong." Zujan chuckled, freed the hard shaft, slowly feeding it into Rall's mouth.

  Wintras turned and went to the back of his cell, refusing to be taunted further. Bright lights began to hover about him, tiny sparks with curious eyes. Even in the depths of his cell he had no privacy! It was outrageous.

  He batted at them. They moved faster, coming closer. He backed into the wall, hissing as the cold stone hit his skin. The colors were dizzying, the flashes flitting about him, exploring, looking.

  He glared at them, keeping himself pressed back against the wall, but refus
ing to beg to have them removed, refusing to even ask for it. As he stayed still, the motions eased, the lights slowing, allowing him some space. He watched the sparks warily, trying to figure out how to escape them, how to destroy them. Perhaps he should have kept his water, that would have taken care of them.

  A low hum filled the air and his eyes shot over to the mage and the man who pleasured the thin body. The cry of pleasure had not come from the mage, instead from the kneeling slave. He was surprised, sure that the boy only pretended to be there of his own will, to do the things he did from want and need. Nonetheless, a well-gilt cage was still a cage. Still, the boy's hips were moving, head bobbing faster, muffled cries coming more and more often.