Darion sat in his study, reviewing the video files Fei had created. The categories were “Urgent”, “Important” and “At Your Leisure.” On a daily basis, he looked at the urgent files. The important ones he did every two days. The last group was usually seen, at most, one week after the events in them took place.
Fei tended to sort them properly. This time there was an exception. In the third section, there was one video in particular which definitely did not belong there. Darion could opt to assume the action was not intentionally taken. However, knowing Fei, it was likely that she had purposely misfiled the video. Now, seeing it, Darion was sitting up completely straight, glaring at the screen.
He watched as Halsam informed Tolrek about the QikMed units. He observed as Tolrek instructed Halsam to stroke him underneath the water. He viewed Tolrek getting out of the bath, fully aroused. Then he took a deep breath, doing his best to manage his anger. He knew that losing his temper could easily cause someone to get hurt, especially Tolrek, and Halsam would certainly not be spared.
He requested that Arjan bring him a glass of Myardi, one of his favorite Tildari red wines. He needed something to sooth him. The response from Fei was that Arjan was running an errand but Halsam was available.
“I do not want him anywhere near me now,” Darion informed her, coldly.
“Why is that?” Fei questioned.
“It’s in his best interests. Just send a servabot.”
“As you wish.”
“One more thing, Fei; do a better job of sorting my videos.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean!” Darion shouted, “My Pet being stroked by my servant is an ‘Urgent’ issue.”
“I apologize, Master Darion,” Fei responded.
Her tone was stiff, a sign that she was unhappy with Darion but he was in no mood to coddle his difficult computer.
“You’re not real enough to have true feelings,” Darion snapped. “Do not act wounded.”
Fei didn’t make a remark, realizing how angry Darion currently was. Further antagonizing him, no matter how much she wanted to do so right now, would only make things worse. She had learned that long ago.
Once, when Darion had become especially upset with her, he’d had her downgraded, reducing her personality to that of a Level 1 Entertainment Robot, a vapid machine that only sang cute songs in a very high-pitched voice. Now, sometimes, when she annoyed him, he’d play back the video of what she’d had to sing, piping the sound and images through the entire house. Fei found it insulting. So, the two had reached an understanding. Fei could show off her incredible life-like range, as long as she did not take too many liberties.
For about twenty minutes, Darion sat quietly in his study, sipping his wine. The images of Tolrek with Halsam played through his mind. Inside, he was aching but he tried his best to ignore the feeling. He was not ready to admit what it meant.
Sighing, Darion set his wine aside and then paged his computer.
“Fei, have Halsam come to me.”
“Yes, Sir Darion.”
Fei relayed Darion’s request and Halsam arrived a short while later. He was reluctant to enter, standing at the open door to Darion’s study. He could sense that something was wrong from the look on Darion’s face.
“Over here. Now,” Darion ordered, motioning to a chair next to his own. “Sit.”
Halsam sat and swallowed nervously. He was not sure what was causing it but he was getting an odd, negative vibe from Darion. A few moments later, he understood why.
“I’ll show you a video,” Darion told him. “Then, I want you to explain to me the events in it.”
He began to play the scenes he found to be offending. Soon, Halsam was squirming in his seat. He looked at the door several times, wanting very much to put some serious distance between himself and Darion. Yet, he knew that trying to run away would only make things worse. He endured watching the video, dreading what would follow.
“Did I imagine what I saw and heard?” Darion asked, when the video finished.
“No, Sir Darion,” Halsam whispered.
“When I told you to see to Tolrek’s needs, I was under the impression you could handle the task. I thought you would know that this kind of act is completely unacceptable.”
“I apologize, Sir Darion.” Halsam looked beseechingly at Darion. “It’s just that he can be so persuasive and—”
“I’m quite disappointed with you,” Darion announced, causing the servant to feel even worse.
“I understand, Sir Darion,” Halsam murmured. “Please don’t let my parents know what happened. Please don’t send me away.”
“Whether you have to return to your parent, it remains to be seen.”
Annoyed with Halsam’s rocking motion, Darion pressed him back against the couch, giving the servant a fierce look.
“I’m so sorry,” Halsam squeaked out.
There was a small tug at Darion’s heart. It was clear the young man was frightened. Still, he had to be taken to task for his actions. Darion sighed and dismissed Halsam from his chambers.
Dinner that night had a heavy atmosphere and only Darion, Fei and Halsam knew why. After the meal, Darion ordered Halsam to follow him to the study.
“Maybe I expected too much of you,” he began.
“No, please don’t think that!” Halsam exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you.”
“I know and that has made all the difference. You don’t have to return to your parents.”
“Thank you,” Halsam whispered, relief showing on his face.
“Don’t look so horrified. I’m not a tyrant, Halsam. I am aware that this is partial my fault. After all, Tolrek can be quite difficult.”
“I am sorry,” Halsam apologized again, as he stood to go.
“Of course, I know.”
Alone after Halsam left, Darion tried to tell himself that his reaction to Halsam and Tolrek’s breach was reasonable, based on well-accepted principles. No person was to take liberties with another’s Pet. More importantly, no Pet was to allow another to be in physical contact with him/her, unless the Owner had given permission. Underneath those formal rules, though, was what was crucial to Darion. He found that he could not bear to see anyone else touch Tolrek in that manner.
Darion brooded, trying to avoid acknowledging his deeper feelings. He wanted to calm himself enough to avoid boorishly throttling his Pet. When he felt he was ready, he left his study to administer the discipline Tolrek so richly deserved.
Relaxing on his bed after a most satisfying dinner, Tolrek thought back to the odd event at the end of the evening’s meal.
Darion, who’d looked livid throughout most of dinner, had instructed Halsam to meet him in his study. The servant, who usually was eager to do the negotiator’s bidding, had eyes filled with fear. Something serious had taken place and Tolrek was curious to know the details.
While Tolrek was in the middle of considering possible explanations for what he had seen, the door to his room slid aside and Darion was standing there. He was holding a riding crop.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what happened with Halsam,” Darion said, stepping into the room. Hiding his surprise, Tolrek sat up to face the negotiator.
“It’s not my household; so it’s not my business,” Tolrek responded, feigning nonchalance.
“I saw the video of him fondling you in the bath.”
“He was diligently seeing to my needs.”
“His actions went beyond the scope of his duties.”
“Oh come on, Darion,” Tolrek said, walking over to the other man. “It was only a joke to tease him. You’re upset about absolutely nothing.”
“I’m upset about you. So, you must be ‘absolutely nothing’. Correct?”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“You are my Pet. You’re not allowed to have someone else touch you in the way Halsam did.”
“Well, I’m so sorry, Sir Darion. If I’d been given a handbook on how Pets are to act I wouldn’t have—-”
A sharp smack with Darion’s crop momentarily silenced Tolrek, who rubbed his stinging thigh.
“I’m not an animal to be whipped with a crop!” he shouted.
“You’ll be whipped with anything I choose. Get to the Punishment Room.”
“Tolrek, either you go there with your own legs or I drag you,” Darion told him, his voice deceptively calm.
“You know what? I’ll go.” The daring streak in Tolrek caused him to respond in an obnoxious manner. “I’ll even pick out a torture implement for you.”
“That’s the spirit,” Darion remarked, drily. “I admire your enthusiasm.”
A few minutes later Tolrek was naked, with his arms and legs chained to the whipping post. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t resist goading the negotiator. He was having second thoughts about the wisdom of having agitated Darion, especially as he now looked again at the whipping implement he’d selected. It was a wide braided whip, with an end that branched off into four sections with thick, metal tips.
Darion had been surprised at Tolrek’s choice. In truth, the whip, along with a few other purchases, had only been intended for show. However, Darion decided to use the rebel’s ignorance of this to his own advantage.
“You just can’t seem to help yourself,” Darion said, voicing Tolrek’s thoughts of the previous moment.
“Maybe you’re easily provoked.”
Darion’s whip landed sharply on Tolrek’s ass, causing the rebel’s flesh to pucker and quickly redden.
“Is that the best you can do?” Tolrek mocked.
“Oh, I’m just beginning,” Darion assured his Pet.
Fourteen more lashes left their marks on the rebel’s back, buttocks and thighs. Another was on its way but Darion paused. When the expected pain didn’t arrive, Tolrek stopped biting down on his lip, curious and ready to stir up Darion, again.
“You lose your stamina?’ he mocked.
“Oh not at all,” Darion laughed softly. “You know, after doing some research on you, especially in relation to your Krezka training, it’s clear to me that you have a high threshold for pain. In fact, your ability to withstand pain is abnormal. There are, however—”
“You going to talk me to death or what? Get to the damn point!”
Darion chuckled at the impatience in his Pet’s voice.
“No, Tolrek,” Darion whispered in the rebel’s ear. “Things will go at the pace I choose.”
Tolrek stiffened as he felt Darion’s hands slide slowly down his back and around to his hips.
“As I was saying, Tolrek,” Darion continued, his nimble fingers making small circles on his Pet’s hips, “Some kinds of pain are quite difficult to handle.” His hands teased the silver curls of Tolrek’s crotch, causing his Pet’s cock to twitch.
“I thought you were going to keep whipping me,” Tolrek gasped out.
“I did too. Then I realized how appealing you are and I decided on two purposes, to torment you and to satisfy my curiosity.” As he spoke, Darion went around and faced Tolrek, dropping the whip at his feet.
“What are you doing?” Tolrek asked when Darion’s hands closed around his cock.
“Playing,” Darion murmured as he began stroking Tolrek. Tolrek did his best to resist showing Darion he was receiving any pleasure.
“This…this isn’t…isn’t punishment,” Tolrek ground out.
A secretive smile graced Darion’s face as he put his new plan fully into motion. The negotiator knelt, surprising Tolrek. The rebel’s already hard cock became even harder.
“Do you want me to be subservient, Tolrek? Is that the aim of your little rebellions?” The air from Darion’s words traveled onto Tolrek’s cock, causing pre-cum to appear at its tip.
Tolrek closed his eyes, trying to show restraint. He had imagined being swallowed by Darion time after time. Now his fantasy, albeit with bondage, was about to happen. His cock strained for Darion’s attention.
Seeing the rebel’s struggle, Darion laughed, making Tolrek damn himself. His frustration only became worse when the negotiator stood and pulled a black box out of his pocket. He stepped away a short distance from Tolrek and a sinister grin spread across his face. He opened the box before the bound Pet, revealing a gleaming metal ring. Tolrek knew what it was and where it would go. He determined not to fight it, wanting to keep as much of his dignity intact. Yet, deep down, a curiosity about Darion’s methods of punishing, of dominating, was steadily growing.
“Release,” Darion said.
The ring split apart and Darion put it around Tolrek’s cock, the device becoming whole again. He noted that the rebel had stood there passively, not fighting. Though he was bound, Tolrek still had room to make putting on the ring difficult but he’d stood there, just staring at Darion.
“Vibrate,” Darion ordered. The ring began a steady humming, sending pleasurable sensations through the rebel’s body.
“Every time I see you with a black box, I end up regretting it,” Tolrek groaned out. “I’m sure you mean to cause me some kind of harm.”
Darion only laughed softly. For the next ten minutes, he stroked Tolrek, making him wince and moan but never allowing him to come. Then, he left Tolrek there, still being sexually tormented by the cock ring.
An hour later, Darion returned. Tolrek was leaning against the post, shuddering. The vibrations of the ring and its denial of a release had taken their toll. The look in Tolrek’s eyes was a mix of anger and pain.
Darion steeled himself, not wanting to reveal how Tolrek’s expression was affecting him. Wordlessly, he unchained Tolrek. The rebel stood in front of him, staring directly into his eyes.
“I imagine you’re quite sore by now,” Darion said. There was no remark. Darion released the ring. “Go to the bath and take care of yourself.”
Tolrek left, walking with difficulty. Had he turned around for even a moment, he would have seen the regret in Darion’s eyes.
Two days later, the expression on Tolrek’s face directly after his punishment remained at the front of Darion’s mind. He was feeling guilt, an emotion that was rare for him. He hadn’t anticipated how much pain he would cause Tolrek. Seeing him limp out of the room had been difficult to watch. Now, his current goal was to remove the images. He went to the simulation room, wanting to be transported to a place where his insecurities were pushed away.
Activating his favorite scene, he soon began to relax as the sounds of quietly running water from a stream filled the room. He began a series of movements based on the Tildari martial arts techniques he’d started learning in his childhood. He wasn’t aware how much time had passed; he was only focused on enjoying his tranquil moments alone. However, the light above the simulation room’s door began flashing, alerting him that someone was at the door. He paused the simulation.
“Video panel, appear,” he said.
The video panel, which stayed hidden unless someone accessed it, revealed itself, showing who was outside the door. Tolrek. Surprised, Darion wondered what the rebel wanted. When Darion gave him access, he went straight to the point.
“I would never do anything with Halsam,” Tolrek said.
“Not even to hurt m—”
Darion stopped himself and Tolrek smiled, knowing what the other man was going to say.
“Not even to hurt you,” Tolrek said. “Anything I do to cause you pain is going to concentrate directly on you.”
Though the words were ones most people would not take joy in hearing, Darion found that he was pleased.
“I think you’re going to try to provoke me every chance you get,” Darion responded, returning to his exercises.
“Maybe,” Tolrek admitted.
“Do you plan on bothering me any further or—”
“Will you show me what you’re doing?”
“Are you actually interested in learning?” Darion eyed him suspiciously.
“I’m not up to anything,” Tolrek assured the negotiator. “I do want to learn.”
Darion stared at him, trying to determine what to do. He’d originally wanted to be alone but now seeing Tolrek, he found that he wanted to be near him.
“Follow me,” Darion said.
Tolrek stood a short distance from him. Darion began fluid movements, encouraging Tolrek to replicate the motions. Tolrek watched the negotiator until he understood the patterns and then copied them. Soon, he and Darion were moving in the same rhythm, enjoying each other’s presence.
Darion continued to coach Tolrek, impressed with how quickly the rebel was picking up the techniques.
“Let’s try something else,” Darion said. “I’ll show you a series of throws.”
The suggestion sounded innocent enough to Tolrek, just some methods Darion would teach him and nothing more. However, after the third throw, Tolrek was getting the sense that Darion was up to something. There was a bit more force in the negotiator’s throws than was necessary for just teaching. Tolrek tried his best to handle it and then eventually had to complain when he narrowly missed the wall.
“Is that the best you can do?” Darion teased, standing over Tolrek prone body. Tolrek looked up at him and scowled.
“I thought you were training me,” Tolrek grumbled.
“No. You’re just hurling me. That is not training.”
“You’re supposed to figure out how to sustain the least amount of damage. I’ve told you what to do.”
“I’m not going to learn everything in one day.”
“I know. In the meantime, you’ll keep landing as hard as you just did, until you get it.”
Tolrek stood up, rubbing different sore areas of his body.
“How about we try something else?” he requested.
“You’re not experienced enough. It gets much more technical after this.”
“Well then, let’s take a break for today.”
“You’re quitting already?” Darion asked, laughing. “I thought Krezka pilots were tougher.”
“I’m not quitting,” Tolrek ground out between clinched teeth. “I’m just tired of being thrown and—”
“It only happened 7 times.”
“It was actually 9. I know because I felt every single one of them.”
“Shall we make it an even dozen?” Darion asked, chuckling.
He took a few menacing steps towards the rebel. Tolrek found himself backing up, despite his reluctance to do so.
Why was it that Darion could so easily intimidate him? It wasn’t the negotiator’s size. Tolrek had been around others who were at least part Tildari. Darion was different though and Tolrek couldn’t completely determine all the reasons why. Being around him—or even thinking about him—caused Tolrek to get this strange prickling sensation across his skin, a sense of sexual excitement edged with a bit of fear. Now, as Darion moved even closer, that feeling was back again and even stronger than ever.
“Why are you shaking?” Darion asked.
“No, I’m not.”
“Of course you are.”
“I’m n—Okay, can we stop this back and forth?”
“You’re right. It’s time for something different.”
Tolrek, whose eyes were staring at Darion’s chest, suddenly focused on the negotiator’s face. He had the suspicion that Darion’s last words had more than one meaning. His belief was confirmed when the negotiator pushed him against the wall. He flinched from the pressure on his bruised body.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m ending the back and forth,” Darion said, bringing his mouth down against Tolrek’s. There wasn’t any resistance. The two played with each other, their tongues teasing one another. Amidst the kissing, Darion removed Tolrek’s shirt, throwing aside the rebel’s clothing. He was eager to feel his skin pressed against the rebel’s.
Darion’s strong hands slid into Tolrek’s pants, finding his cock, massaging him with deliberate strokes, soon making him completely hard.
Tolrek’s mind raced to find the right words but all he could do was get lost in the sensations that Darion was causing. Was it really him leaning his head against Darion’s chest as the negotiator continued to fondle him, making him moan? Was it really him now looking up at Darion, eager for some sign about what would happen next?
“You want to go further?” Darion asked, already knowing the answer.
Without waiting for the confirmation, Darion pulled Tolrek to the floor. He hovered over him, taking in the sight of Tolrek’s well-honed body. Years of training had made him a very enticing specimen.
Darion ran his fingers through Tolrek’s hair, across his jaw and down his neck to his defined chest and stomach. Then, one graceful hand arrived at the juncture of Tolrek’s thighs. Hearing the rebel’s heavy breathing, Darion reveled in the effect he was having on the person who did his best to be unreadable.
Darion moved between Tolrek’s thighs, pushing the rebel’s legs farther apart for more access. The negotiator’s long, dark hair contrasted with Tolrek’s rich, silver curls. Keeping his eyes on Tolrek’s face, he lowered his mouth to the rebel’s cock. A hiss escaped the rebel as he sunk into Darion’s mouth. Darion moved his head, slowly at first and then more quickly. Varying the speed, he made the rebel respond to whatever tempo he wished to set.
Tolrek ran his hands through Darion’s hair, encouraging him. Soon, unable to prevent himself, Tolrek completely gave in, arching his back. He came hard, coating the walls of the negotiator’s mouth with his thick, delicious fluids. When his last few spasms subsided, Darion rose above him, taking in the sight of his heaving chest, his sex-reddened skin and the remaining hunger in his eyes. Had he wished to, Darion could fully take Tolrek now but he wanted to wait. Something told him that with a little more time, entering the rebel would be that much more pleasurable.
When Tolrek realized Darion was stopping for the moment, he was annoyed. He turned his face away from Darion, a scowl on his lips. Darion laughed softly.
“What’s this?” he asked. “Shouldn’t I be receiving gratitude for that wonderful blo—”
“I’ve had better,” Tolrek grunted, moving out from under Darion.
The negotiator watched him, admiring the way the light played off his body, now slightly slick with sweat. When Tolrek reached to get his clothes, Darion stopped him.
“No, stay naked,” Darion said, separating Tolrek’s clothes from him.
“But I’m going to leave the room.”
“You’re in my home. Do you think someone is going to accost you here?” Mischief was playing in Darion’s eyes as he asked the question.
Tolrek thought back to Fei’s treatment of him using the force field. He stifled a shudder and started to exit.
Darion didn’t move. He just watched and waited until Tolrek was just past the threshold.
“Oh Tolrek, you’re welcome. And, next time, I’ll get bolder. You know what that means, right?”
Tolrek walked away, letting the words hang in the air and pretending they didn’t affect him.