#aneirinxadrasia

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

closed starter for @adrasian

Now that Aneirin had settled into Krovs, he had finally decided what kind of birds would suit his suite. As much as he missed his chickens and his peacock, he didn't have the space to accommodate them- at least not yet, he was hoping to persuade the council to allow him some space in the greenhouses. Instead, he'd settled on a pair of lovebirds, which were enthusiastically preening each other on the coffee table in his lounge as he looked across at the celestial on the other sofa.

So far, he'd done nothing but bring him some tea, observe. Aneirin was curious about him, but his expression remained neutral, except for smiling, periodically, at the birds. He'd never seen a celestial up close before - had encountered one or two in passing, belonging to other vampires. His involvement in the second war, whilst deep, had largely taken place in offices, seats of government, making tactical calls and combing through intelligence reports, torturing a few high-profile faerie captures. His days on an active battlefield were long over.

Adrasia though, had a deep history with castles like these, and battlefields before them. Aneirin had combed through his profile with great interest. He was easily one of the most dangerous slaves they had wrestled into a collar, and as much as Aneirin longed to remove it and see those infamous wings, he'd be a fool to do so. Without ceremony, he collected the birds in his hands and returned them to the large, ornate cage in the corner. "Do you prefer this castle to your previous? Or is it much the same? Did you have friends there? Do you miss them?" He studied Adrasia's face, his expression still neutral. Perhaps the celestial had heard of him, recently or otherwise. He frequently sent slaves back down to the Undercroft hurting and humiliated. They must talk. "Have you made friends since you arrived here?"

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

@adrasian

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

Something had shifted in Adrasia. Aneirin could sense it. Gone were all those indignant protests, whatever divine resolve Adrasia might have had. That was Aneirin's curiosity about such alien creatures - at what point did they tip and become just as familiar and fallible as any man. Sex certainly seemed to do something to this one, as if it were some shadowy demonic mystery and not just a fact of earthly existence. Aneirin paused, let Adrasia's softening cock slip out of his mouth, licked his back teeth. The rumours appeared to be true. Celestials did taste sweet.

After barely a moment's still, he was reaching for his trousers, kicking them down his legs and off as soon as he had the zipper open. Then his fingers slid out of Adra and he was slotting himself inside, Adra perched over him in that ridiculous dress, looking so delightfully bespoiled it was a wonder Aneirin's cock hadn't dropped off with how hard he was. He groaned, collected Adrasia's wrists in one hand, the other perched on Adrasia's waist beneath the fabrics of the skirt. He grinned up at him, all teeth. "That's it. There's Daddy's perfect little girl. Goodness you were worked up, weren't you? You're behaving so well now, letting Daddy take care of you." The pace was mean in its slowness, teasing, barely pulling back at all, more of a deep grind. "All that backed-up gunk was making you very upset, wasn't it?"

He had no idea how long this newest round of torment lasted, Adrasia's chest heaving as a drop of sweat trickled down his spine, no control left over the desperate sounds that escaped the celestial as his fingers dug into the cushions beneath him. The room blurring around him, be it from strain or unshed tears and he trembled without stopping, trapped without chance of escape between Aneirin's coaxing mouth and the demands of the master's fingers and still trying uselessly to squirm away. It was good and it hurt and Adrasia could find no state of mind to comprehend how he could feel both. The master's next finger forced its way in, all three crooking into that spot that made all his muscles jump as heat danced across his skin, the angel's insides wringing tight around Aneirin's probing touch as a noise far too close to a sob wrenched out of his throat.

He wouldn't weep. Even as orgasm raked over him again, pins and needles spiking through Adrasia like a limb jostled out of sleep and he ground his teeth so hard his jaw ached, he refused. He spilled into the vampire's unrelenting mouth without a sound until the last pangs were over, exhaustion settled over the celestial like a heavy wet blanket as the stimulation still didn't end. There was a strange clarity in it, a numbing relief even as Adrasia whimpered regaining his breath, his cock trying again to soften despite Aneirin's efforts. His hole was barely resisting the stretch of those fingers anymore.

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

"You can." There was, perhaps, a ripple of persuasion in Aneirin's voice. He seldom used it, considered it a rather cheap, dirty trick when he had so many years under his belt as a torturer. That being said, Adrasia was rather more robust than his usual subjects. Aneirin had never tried his hand at cracking a full-blooded celestial before - and he was only helping Adrasia overcome what he felt were the psychological limitations he'd put on himself. Adrasia seemed, to Aneirin, to lack a comprehensive understanding of himself sexually. Perhaps he ought to have expected it from creatures that were often, naturally, celibate, or very near.

His fingers continued to press, steadily, insistently, inside Adrasia. His mouth was tight, if not as warm as living creature's. He had picked up more than a few tricks in his millennium of life: to lathe his tongue against the vein that ran along the underside of the cock; fit the point of it into the groove at the back of the head; swallow the whole thing down to the root, letting his throat constrict around it. It was addictive, despoiling an angel like this, fit neatly into Aneirin's other interests. As elegant and powerful as they were, there was something fragile about celestials. It reminded Aneirin of his birds. He wormed a third finger into Adra's tight insides, pressing against Adra's prostate, almost holding it down.

Adrasia's head had barely stopped spinning before Aneirin's fingers were gliding into him again, the reprieve he'd been granted while the master prepared himself proving devastatingly brief. Still, it was far from a torment at first, Adrasia still managing to pull in a few heavy cycles of breath, fingers clenching and unclenching as he sought enough lucidity to feel in control again. So much stimulation had almost dulled out the intensity of the touch, blurring the sensation into something huge and indistinct, a warm haze between his hips. Aneirin's words still penetrated that haze, targeted as they were, and Adrasia grit his teeth in pointed silence, turning his face into the cushion as if to stop himself from giving reply. He would give him no answers, not any more than he would beg the way Aneirin suggested. That resolve didn't stop the trepidation that rose in him at the very idea of every night. It was only a threat. It had to be.

His mind was swirling around that possibility when Aneirin's fingers withdraw again and the grip on Adrasia's wrists slackened, a faint bit of resolve flaring in the celestial again as he tried to lift himself out of his painful pose only for Aneirin to tug him into this new one. A moment's confusion and then Adrasia nearly choked, thighs jolting as Aneirin's mouth latched around him. It was far too intense, too quickly, especially when the slave had just come with no touch there at all. How could anyone find pleasure in this? The pressure of Aneirin's fingers inside him was forgotten entirely. "Too much," Adrasia gasped raggedly, trying to pull away continuously now, barely in control of the way his body twitched and shook to try and escape as if there was an electric current trapped under the celestial's skin, "I can't." The protest burst out on an instinct, never mind the tight coil of Aneirin's command refusing to release the celestial yet.

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

Taking advantage of Adrasia's orgasm, Aneirin used the opportunity to reach into the drawer beneath the coffee table and retrieve a bottle of lube. He wouldn't give Adrasia the satisfaction of even the faintest amount of pain. At least, not yet. He pulled his thumb back, uncapping the bottle with his teeth and squirting the contents over his fingers. It was rather messy, doing this one handed, but the sofa was leather for a reason. Aneirin had no qualms about getting messy if the situation called for it. There were already a few stains on the dress he'd put Adra in. He'd have to have it dry cleaned later.

He pressed a couple of insistent fingers inside Adrasia, setting a slow but firm pace, intent on milking him to yet another orgasm. Aneirin wasn't one to make idle threats. When he warned, or, in this case, promised, someone he was going to do something, he was always prepared to follow through. "How long is it that you've been a slave? I can't imagine there's too many people that have focused on your pleasure. Maybe a handful. I'll have to fix that. I could have you up here every night for another round of orgasms."

Aneirin paused, thinking, decided he preferred a different position. He withdrew his fingers briefly to reorient himself to lie on his back, hold Adrasia above him. The skirts fell, forming a curtain over Aneirin's head. He quickly had his fingers inside Adrasia instead and was suckling at the head of his spent cock, licking up Adrasia's cum, exactly as he had said he would.

Adrasia's head shook in fervent, silent denial, but it meant little in the end and accomplished even less. Aneirin's command tugged at him like a wave, a rip current determined to drown him out at sea, and by the time the vampire pulled his mouth from him the celestial was held fast within the grips of it, choking out gasps as the first pulses of undeniable release shivered through his limbs. Aneirin's voice came to him as if through water, distant and distorted, as Adrasia squirmed mindlessly underneath him, body frantic for enough stimulation to force the celestial fully over the edge. He buried a sound of pure desperation against the sofa as his cock throbbed powerfully and drooled a thick line of pre down onto the cushions.

All it took was the feeling of Aneirin's thumb caressing him from the inside, so solid and firm compared to the sinuous teasing of the master's tongue, to finally give in for the second time -- far more intense than the first. He didn't breathe once as it rocked him, the taste of copper welling in his mouth where he'd bit his own tongue, and once his climax had finally swept through him Adrasia wilted against the cushions, even as the pull at his pinned wrists only increased the ache in his shoulders. Aneirin's thumb slid that much deeper as the celestial went lax, a faint groan prying from the slave at the feeling. He'd only come twice and he could feel fatigue creeping in; Adrasia could barely organize his thoughts coherently enough to resent it or to fear the next round, managing one weak tug against the hold on his arms in token resistance. Perhaps he would pass out before Aneirin truly got into his stride.

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

"You can. You will." Aneirin's voice was a deep, harsh growl of command, his breath vampiricly cool against Adrasia's plaint flesh. It thrilled him, to order a celestial so, knowing that Adrasia had no choice but to obey. There was nothing that was more delicious to Aneirin than this kind of humiliation, debasement. He ought to have been a demon. His tongue continued its methodical assault as before, fangs grazing over the skin. Part of him wanted to bite, to rip into Adrasia's skin and tear it, smear his thighs with blood, but he restrained himself, knowing that Adrasia found some kind of relief in pain. He couldn't have that.

This time, when Adrasia's body seemed to be winding itself up for orgasm, he didn't reach for Adrasia's cock. Instead, Aneirin pulled back, pushed the blunt of his thumb into that open, but tight little hole. "That's it. You love it, don't you? All that protesting and you really, truly enjoy it. You're getting off. You like it when Daddy strokes your insides. Filthy little slut."

For a precious second, Adrasia felt the rush of adrenaline and a vicious stab of satisfaction to see the darkness in the councilman's eyes, that briefest of glimpses behind Aneirin's mask, and the celestial thought with a pang of bittersweet relief that he finally might have managed to provoke him out of his wretched game. The feeling did not last. He clung to it for a little while longer as the vampire manhandled him, just as effortless as posing a doll, and a sour anticipation rang through him. It vanished as Aneirin's weight settled over his back and the celestial went rigid at the wetness of that tongue flicking over his skin.

He might have been a statue for all he moved as Aneirin taunted him, lungs frozen in his chest. Torture by another name then, and Adrasia felt another hot rush of futile anger as the tug on his hair, gathering himself to try and wrestle his way out of this new contortion before Aneirin put his mouth to use again. Adrasia jolted, went nowhere with how tightly he was held, a shiver wracking his body at how easily his hole stretched around the probe of Aneirin's tongue after the vampire had already forced the little muscles there to surrender once before. "I can't," Adrasia said hoarsely, mouth agape against the cushions as he panted, "I -- won't." How many secrets did the celestial's vessel have left to hide from him, to surprise him with this awful willingness? Perhaps the weakness of this body without his heavenly stamina would be a blessing now in disguise, if he couldn't give Aneirin what he wanted.

It was a slow assault, just as persistent as the first one and Adrasia was truly sweating now, shoulders aching from how Aneirin was keeping him pinned. There was no steady climb of pleasure like before, he wasn't even fully hard again, but he couldn't keep himself from twitching as every muscle in his groin and hips went taut and unheeding to the celestial's attempts to hold himself still, canting away from the constant stimulation and back into it again if only because there was nowhere else to go.

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

Aneirin heard the slap before he felt it. His head swung sideways with some force, though it was really the surprise of it that disturbed him. When he turned to look back at Adrasia, there was a large, pink hand print over his cheek and a much, darker, stormier look clouding over the deep brown of his eyes - the kind of expression that would have put the fear of God into most slaves. Perhaps not this one. He snarled, fangs bared. "Well, I suppose if you're intent on being such a brat, we'll have to do something about that attitude of yours."

In a quick flash of movement, he forced Adrasia onto his stomach and pinned his hands behind his back, gathering both wrists in one of his hands. He folded himself over Adra, licked the shell of his ear before he spoke directly into it, mouth pressed against the flesh. "How about this? I'm going to bugger you senseless. I'm going to make you cum and cum and cum until there's nothing left inside you at all, just because I know it offends your sensibilities. Hell, maybe I'll even keep going after that and have you cum dry over and over again. You'll cum on my tongue, my fingers, my cock. I've got plenty of toys to keep you nice and stimulated if I need a rest. You're not going to get one."

He tugged on one of the bunches he'd put in Adra's hair mockingly. "And if you really can't take it, if you really want to beg me to stop, maybe I'll be kind enough if you tell Daddy that you're a sorry little girl who has learnt her lesson." Aneirin bit Adra's earlobe teasingly, then pushed Adra's skirt out of the way and put his mouth back on Adra's asshole, setting about doing exactly what he'd said he would.

A keen escaped from behind the celestial's gritted teeth as the last quivering shocks of unwanted pleasure gripped his body and he vainly tried to shift away from Aneirin's unceasing probing. He felt inescapably dirty, stomach slick with spend and far too wet between his thighs from the master's mouth, hot and damp at his hairline with a first glimmering of sweat. Adrasia jerked with a pained hiss at the dig of his nail and just barely avoiding kneeing his tormentor in the head on pure reflex. The shame curdling in his chest was thick and stifling, and when the councilman shoved those fingers between his teeth Adrasia was too focused on not gagging around them that he forgot to bite.

Adrenaline would not let him be lax in his shock for long, not with the threat that came in that richly satisfied voice. Next round? Adrasia's jaw ached from the pressure of Aneirin's fingers and it hurt even more to wrench himself free from that grip and spit the bitter-salt taste from his mouth, but dread and rage spiked through the celestial like a lance and without a moment's hesitation he surged up on an elbow and cracked his unbound hand across Aneirin's smug face, "To hell with your generosity," Adrasia snarled breathlessly, palm hot and stinging as he struggled to wrench his legs back, hiding far too deep in the refuge of his anger to feel much regret, "To hell with your games!" There was a tinge of desperation to the words, a wild look in the celestial's eyes. He would beg for pain instead if it meant a way out of Aneirin's charade.

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

Aneirin pulled back to drink in Adrasia's humiliation properly, his eyes wild, pupils blown wide and dilated. His neatly combed hair had tumbled free at the front from the enthusiasm with which he'd defiled an angel and Adrasia's stubborn fingers pulling at it, the dark strands hanging over his brow, the bridge of his nose. He gathered the skirts of the dress up in one hand, pulling them out of the way to watch Adrasia's twitching cock, the wink of his glistening arsehole. Aneirin's thumb reached to feel the tightening of the muscles, breaching just a centimetre or two.

"Now there's Daddy's beautiful girl." His tongue flicked over his crooked fans, a crooked grin to match them. His hand drifted up over Adrasia's cock, stroking it, a thumbnail pressing meanly against the sensitive head. Then, abruptly, he dropped the skirts to grip Adrasia's jaw bruisingly tight, force his lips apart to push his cum-covered fingers between them. "Taste yourself for me. Is it as sweet as they say? Don't say Daddy isn't generous. He's going to get a taste next round."

Adrasia felt unmoored, every breath dragging out of him as if forced. His grip on Aneirin's hair was useless but he clung to it the way he'd clung to countless other futile things, less trying to pull to the master away now and more holding on for dear life, fingers sore with the tightness of his grip. A whimper escaped the celestial finally, Adrasia shutting his eyes against the dizzying blur of the room but unable to escape the obscene noises of Aneirin's eager mouth playing him like an unwilling instrument. He ached from how hard he was, it made no sense, but he couldn't - it was impossible to come just from this. Perhaps the councilman could read his mind after all though, for as soon as he thought it, Aneirin's fingers curled around him again and he groaned as if he'd slipped a knife between his ribs instead, the beading wetness at the tip of Adrasia's cock leaking down in long, glistening strands onto the slave's stomach at the first firm stroke of Aneirin's hand.

The repetition of that taunting phrase roused some stubborn will still left to the celestial, his disgust at the idea of submitting to any of his desires, trying to brace himself as Aneirin licked into him again. The two pleasures melted together then, so gently overwhelming that he didn't even realize what was happening. A jolt went up Adrasia's spine, his heel digging hard into Aneirin's back as his peak slammed into him without warning, the panicked clench of his walls only intensifying the feeling of each rhythmic caress against them. There were full seconds of scouring sensation quivering through his limbs before he began to come in earnest, cock throbbing as he spilled over the master's hand and the scattered folds of the ridiculous dress, only cognizant enough to manage one last desperate "no--!" when it was already far too late.

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

Adrasia had gone quiet. It made Aneirin grin, sadistically, knowing he'd found something that was truly humiliating to Adrasia. His fingers pinched at Adrasia's thighs, hard enough to leave purple bruises where the digits rested. Aneirin had absolutely no technique he wouldn't sink to if it achieved the effect he wanted. He allowed himself to consider the possibility of getting tears out of the Adrasia, the idea delicious to him.

His tongue licked over Adrasia's velvety insides, the filthy squelch of it resounding in the air. His nose pressed against Adrasia's taint, moving with the back and forth motion of his tongue, rocking, nudging at him. Aneirin was incredibly thorough when he set his mind to something, knew that repetition yielded results. Right now, the result he was after was bringing Adrasia to orgasm. One hand trailed up from Adrasia's thigh to wrap around his cock, stroking it, slow, tender, his thumb swiping over the head.

For a moment, he pulled back, nipped at the meat of Adrasia's ass. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?" His mouth drew back to Adrasia's hole, focusing his entire attention on it.

Adrasia felt terribly exposed, contorted against his will, little arguing with Aneirin's strength and the pain that laced up Adrasia's back when he tried to twist out the position he'd been forced into. His outrage remained but it was growing progressively more difficult to make the shape of it fit words, to school the shock that must have been painted in broad strokes over the celestial's hot face.

His head jerked back against the cushions, gut twisting with dread, unbearable to look anymore. Instead of pain there was awful intimacy, the celestial's memories of more forceful indignities only amplifying each stroke of the master's tongue where his entrance spasmed against him. But Adrasia's flesh refused to listen to his mind's repulsion and the onslaught was a tender one, foreign pleasure creeping insidiously through his limbs at the slick, persistent stimulation.

Adrasia had nothing to say to the other's taunting anymore, refusing to dignify Aneirin's madness with words. His thighs tried in vain to spasm shut once more, an almost animalistic growl forcing its way from his throat at the rub of Aneirin's thumb as Adrasia's nails dug into the councilman's scalp. In the end, he only choked back a far more vulnerable noise as that tongue suddenly plunged inside of him at the cost of literally biting his own, a reflexive shiver crawling up the slave's spine. He would have prayed for Aneirin's fancy for this torment to pass soon, if he didn't feel too filthy in the moment to even pray.

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

Aneirin had to suppress a cackle. All this time as a slave, and he'd still managed to find something that Adrasia was unfamiliar with - and what a thing for it to be. He pulled back for a moment to look at Adrasia's expression, admire the shock of it. "Has no one ever done this for you? What a terrible shame. Don't worry. Daddy will show you how good it is."

He lowered his mouth again, licking with a firm pressure over Adrasia's exposed hole. The goal, at first, was just to get it nice and pliant for him, ready to open itself to a gentle pressure. Aneirin was single-minded in pursuit of what he wanted and right now, what he wanted was Adrasia weeping beneath him and his clever tongue. His hands continued to grip at Adrasia's thighs as he pressed on with his assault.

Only when he felt Adrasia start to loosen did he venture further. He took a brief pause, stroking over the muscle with his thumb. "Ever so wet, aren't you? I think you like it." Then he was diving back in, his tongue folded to form a blunt spear, thrusting inside Adrasia.

The only mercy of being wrestled down was that the celestial couldn't glimpse himself dressed so in that long mirror anymore, weak as a kitten under Aneirin's greater strength. There was a brief moment where he could have taken full advantage of the position and snapped his foot against the vampire's skull, but it was just drastic enough an action to second-guess himself and the opportunity vanished just as quick as it it had come, Adrasia quivering at the sudden strain in his thighs as Aneirin nearly bent him in half against the cushions.

He could barely hear the other's cooing over the rush of blood in his ears, the furious hammering of the celestial's heart in his chest, but what he did hear only inflamed him further. In this position Adrasia could only try to jab his heel into Aneirin's back, and even that was at too poor an angle to express anything but impotent frustration. He knew how this ended from years past, when the violation had still been new and he'd fought it bitterly: no matter the slave's protests, Aneirin would get what he wanted in the end. But anger had always made the celestial reckless once it got its teeth in him. "You disgust me," Adrasia hissed, "I may have to endure you but I do not have to--"

He choked on the words before he could speak them, hips stuttering as if Aneirin had shocked him, the patient drag of the vampire's thumb over his cock no less electric for being simple touch. Adrasia was nowhere near fully hard but a hot rush of panic flooded the celestial's veins still. "Don't touch me," His voice was hoarse and tight, the hands that Aneirin had left free digging into the vampire's hair and defying the uselessness of the slave's protests, fingers wrenching at his locks as if he had any chance to dislodge the other's eager mouth. There was no way he could have anticipated its destination and Adrasia jolted unthinkingly as Aneirin laved his tongue over that tight furl, a high gasp forcing its way past the dryness of his throat, "What are you-?"

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

Aneirin continued to stroke Adrasia's cock beneath the skirts, his face breaking in a broad grin as Adrasia said his peace. He'd heard rumours about just how hard it was to break Adrasia's composure, and he could see it cracking. He'd always loved a challenge. He caught Adrasia's foot with his free hand, lifted it high, onto his own shoulder, to spread Adrasia's legs obscenely wider. "Oh you are. You are pent up. Don't worry, Daddy's got you."

He turned their bodies sideways, pressing Adrasia down onto the sofa on his back. The venom in Adrasia's words wasn't doing him any favours, it was only scratching the itch inside Aneirin's brain that loved a brat, loved to be resisted. He flipped the skirts up onto Adrasia's stomach, throwing Adrasia's legs over his shoulders, and settled on his own, his body shifting lower down, his weight resting on Adrasia's thighs. "I think you like it when Daddy plays with your clit, don't you? Look at that. Look at how wet you are." He pressed his thumb against the head of Adrasia's cock, changing the motion of his hand to more of rub, a circular motion.

His other hand also trailed over Adrasia's groin, just as his face nuzzled against the inside of Adrasia's thigh, the juncture of his leg and pelvis. "Are you finished? Are you going to let Daddy take care of you?" His fingers moved along the cleft of Adrasia's cheeks. The index found the furl of his hole and rubbed, gently. Aneirin trailed kisses down the inseam of Adrasia's thigh, moved perilously close to Adrasia's cock, before the wetness of his tongue moved along the path his fingers had forged and licked a stripe over Adrasia's hole. Adrasia was welcome to spout whatever ethical treatise he wanted, but Aneirin would do his best to make those clever words stutter.

For a long, unsettled pause, Adrasia nearly considered going limp and letting it happen. It was maddening without his full strength; when Aneirin forced his mouth on him, the celestial couldn't even manage to wrench his head away from the kiss. He squirmed under the Aneirin's grip anyways, as close to outright fighting as he could get without aiming a true blow, just to cringe as the vampire squeezed his cock far too tightly for pleasure, unwanted or otherwise. A volatile mix of emotions coursed hot through Adrasia's body: fury and disgust and frustration all at once, but also a flicker of keen triumph at that smallest hint of sadism. Aneirin had given up his act just long enough for the celestial to see that he could be provoked into punishment after all. He was still that kind of monster, as much as the rest of them.

In that moment, the celestial welcomed pain if it meant there was a way out of this farce. His dark eyes gleamed angrily when the councilman pulled back to croon to him more, Aneirin's mocking praise met with the celestial's fingers scrabbling at his neck and face, Adrasia's back arching to gather the leverage to push him even a single inch further away, "You're - mad," He yanked one leg back high enough to try and force a wedge between them, bare foot scrabbling for purchase at the crook of Aneirin's hip. A thousand unvoiced rebukes to other masters rose in his throat, wrenched out by his humiliation, the vivid memory of the bruises he'd seen on other slaves. "Mad or just exhausted from the efforts of beating innocents!" The celestial's lips were wet and shiny from the vampire's crude treatment, words heavy with the fervency of his condemnation, "Or is this what you try only after you've gotten bored?"

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

Aneirin's hands quickly broke Adrasia's grip and found his cock, pushing his thighs apart. He squeezed it a little too tightly for a long moment, then loosened his grip to stroke him properly. "Of course you're my girl. I don't want to hear you telling lies like that. Has Daddy not given you enough attention? Is that it? Are you all pent up?" He batted Adrasia's thighs wider, his free hand tugging a knee to one side. "Don't worry we can fix that. Daddy's going to spoil you rotten."

He felt compelled to break Adrasia's composure. He'd clearly already rattled it, was moving along the right track. With his free hand he cupped Adrasia's chin, pulled him in for a deep, sloppy kiss, pushing his tongue into Adrasia's mouth. "See. There we are. You're such a good girl for me. You look so pretty in your little dress. Daddy's going to reward you, make you cum and cum and cum until there's nothing at all in that pretty little head of yours."

His had was moving at an even pace, thumb rolling over the head of Adrasia's cock. There was something about knowing he was debasing something divine, something that made Aneirin delighted, fill up with a manic kind of glee. He grinned, licked his tongue over Adrasia's mouth again. He'd feed from him eventually, but not right now. The hand on Adrasia's cock was picking up speed. "Good girl. Such a pretty girl for me."

Greater trepidation rose in Adrasia's throat as Aneirin disappeared again, already unsettled by relative harmlessness of the brush. The celestial's eyes went once more to the pretty caged birds in the vampire's absence, fighting the urge to smooth his hair back the way he preferred it. He wasn't foolish enough to expect Roland's brand of seduction from this one (and some part of him was selfishly relieved at that), but Aneirin still had yet to fully show his hand. Perhaps he was only holding back on the sadism, hoping to lull the slave into a false sense of confidence...

With that in mind, Adrasia was baffled by the garment Aneirin produced for him, only deciphering exactly what he was being dressed in when the thing was already half-wrapped around his body. It could have merely been experience with being manhandled by masters that kept him pliant as Aneirin primped and styled him, but there was also a dimension of true bewilderment loosening the celestial's limbs. He had been groomed for masters before, those who liked gold on his eyelids or red paint on his lips or to drape him with fine chains. But this was no pageantry for a war trophy and Adrasia couldn't help the way he jerked in the vampire's grip as Aneirin forced his gaze to the mirror, the first shocked swell of aversion sour in his gut.

The groping touch went too far when paired with such provoking words and Adrasia darted to grab at Aneirin's wrists and hinder those wandering hands, sudden indignation flaring hotly within him. "I am not your girl, councilman - " The celestial hissed back through clenched teeth, still valiantly fighting for an expression close to dignified, "If this is what you seek, you are in the wrong place." It was an impotent anger, as useless as the way he instinctively squeezed his thighs together under the ridiculous skirts as if that would keep Aneirin at bay -- but this role stretched past what the celestial's pride could possibly allow him to play. He was stuck fast in the knowledge that he could hardly fight back in full, but surely that didn't mean he had to take such treatment without protest?

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

Aneirin had caught the wobble of uncertainty in Adrasia's expression. He didn't expect gentleness, clearly, was suspicious of it. That was a start - Aneirin had found a thread to pull on. He made a slow circle around Adrasia, fingers skimming over his shoulders, the dip of his clavicle. He found himself unreasonably delighted with the freckles. They made Adrasia look younger, sweeter, somehow, despite the passive pout on his face.

"Maybe I will do something about that now," Aneirin said, curling a lock of Adrasia's hair around his finger. It was smoother now, untangled, but Aneirin wasn't quite satisfied. He held his own chin a moment, thinking, then disappeared again, leaving the hairbrush on the table. When he returned, he was carrying a pink, gingham baby doll dress with far too many ruffles. Sophia had had a couple of them stashed in his wardrobe when she organised his suite for him. It had made him laugh finding them. He'd worn that one in particular for her on a couple of occasions. It slipped easily over Adrasia's head, Aneirin guiding his arms into the sleeves. Then he tied the bow at the back.

"Better. But I think we can do better still." He sat down on the sofa, pulled Adrasia to sit in front of him, then picked up the brush again, separating his hair into two neat bunches. He slipped the matching elastics off his wrists and around Adrasia's dark locks. He gripped Adrasia by the chin again, turning his head to look at his own reflection in the floor length mirror. "What else do you think? Knickers with a bow? A pair of little white socks? Perhaps I should paint your toenails for you. You're such a lovely little girl for Daddy, aren't you?" He pulled Adrasia up into his lap, reaching a hand under the skirts to stroke him.

Adrasia blinked, unsure of what to make of the councilman's vague response. It seemed neither of them was willing to give the other much. "Very far, yes." The celestial replied after a moment, hiding his considering pause in a sip of tea, "It makes me wonder what would bring individuals like yourself to such distant places. Busy leaders, I mean." He could have said several far more cutting things about his thoughts on how the vampires chose to play out their governing, but that would deeply unwise and so civility it was. That first breach of the careful courtesy the two had been playing at came as Aneirin moved to sit much closer, the celestial's spine stiffening as the vampire's curious hands petted at his hair. The dark locks still fell in loose waves from the braid he slept in, grooming an afterthought for a creature who took little stock in vanity beyond what this shape naturally expressed. Adrasia knew what he looked like -- beauty was not necessarily moral, but it was certainly persuasive. If that had once helped him coax others to his side before, it was doing him little favors now.

He let out a slow breath as Aneirin left the room. He would not think of what he was going to fetch; Adrasia had stamina and disdain enough to endure anything a sadist could imagine for him. That made Aneirin's reappearance with a brush instead something of a surprise, Adrasia quickly composing an expression of mild interest to cover his distaste as the master looked him over like a show animal. The order to strip, at least, was a familiar one and Adrasia delicately pulled his face away from Aneirin's hand, happy to put some distance between them for now. The skin he revealed to the vampire was tanned and freckled despite the lack of sun, bereft of scars or the bruises that eager mouths had left not so long ago, only the faintest of marks left from someone's feeding still nestled in the crook of his neck. When he was done, Adrasia flicked his eyes back to the councilman's face. His gaze was flat and shuttered, absent any sense of searching for instruction or approval. "You are not the first to complain about the clothing," He remarked idly, "I wonder which of the masters will actually change them."

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

It was always the details that Aneirin was observing. He watched the rise and fall of Adrasia's eyebrows, the way his gaze lingered on the birds, despite the neutrality of his mouth. Celestials, certainly the older ones, seemed to have an incredibly dignified aura, like statesmen aware of the weight of their roles. Aneirin could appreciate that, could recognise himself in it. He doubted pain would affect Adrasia in the way it affected the humans he'd brought upstairs so far, but he was yet certain what would affect him.

"We are very far away from everything, aren't we?" Aneirin replied, not quite answering the question. He had been in a castle before, he'd been born in one, in fact, but not any of these post-second war pleasure palaces. He wouldn't have come at all, if it weren't for his role on the council. If he took the opportunity to make use of the amenities, that was neither here nor there. It was a wise move to have Krovs so isolated, built like a fortress. The human tendency to build metropolitan centres around seats of government was very troublesome indeed, in an age of guns and bombs, when indiscriminate, mass killing methods were so readily available.

He moved around Adrasia, his hand coming to rest on his shoulder. He stroked his fingers through Adrasia's long tresses. They weren't in the best condition, at least in Aneirin's opinion. He hummed, disappeared into another room to retrieve a hair brush and set about combing through the knots without a word of warning. His free hand took Adrasia's chin between its fingers, posing him, twisting him this way and that. "I don't like how they've dressed you," he said, briefly setting down the brush. "Take it off. Show me what you look like."

Adrasia had done his best to keep to civility in the midst of this introduction, the celestial sitting with as much dignity as if he had been invited to a social event with an equal. But Aneirin was no equal, that was certain. Adrasia knew the rumors about this man, had seen firsthand the aftermath of how he liked to enjoy himself. Oh yes, it had taken some time to ferret out exactly who had hurt Taliesin so badly, and other slaves besides. The celestial felt only grim acceptance at being summoned to his suite, almost eager to see the true face of the one responsible. Now that Adrasia was perched across from the culprit, he found himself searching for any hint of the malice he knew lingered underneath the vampire's courteous mask.

The presence of the brightly colored birds was a strange one. It was difficult to imagine the councilman desiring them just for beauty, but was that not one of the reasons the vampires imprisoned them as well? Observing the precious creatures sent a pang of bittersweet longing through Adrasia for his own flight. The celestial's brows pinched together at the almost physical weight of the emotion, the first flicker of anything beyond perfect composure -- how many years had it been since he'd trusted someone to preen his wings?

Shaking off such impossible thoughts, Adrasia had to turn his gaze away from the now-caged pair to look to Aneirin once more, pursing his lips at the onslaught of questions as he perched his tea on one knee. "It's difficult to compare the two," Adrasia said levelly, matching Aneirin's indifferent tone, "Krovs is certainly larger and has far more amenities. Amicable relationships between slaves seems to be more permissible here." That is all he would say on the topic of friends. A creature like this one did not deserve to hear anything of the ones Adrasia had been forced to leave behind, dead or worse. "Surely you will have also visited facilities beyond Krovs, councilman. What do you make of the castle so far?"