In My King's Harem

by Ari Maxwell00909

Fayt was sold into slavery, and bought by a rather sadistic Lord, and then stuck in his harem of nothing but perfumed women. And he hates it, but his Lord may not be so bad, underneath the coldness. [AlbelxFayt]

1. My King's Harem

Title: In My King's Harem

By: Ari Maxwell! Oh yeah, that's right!

Disclaimer: Um...I don't own the Star Ocean characters, or even the title of this fic. Warnings: S+M, swearing, sexual themes, I torture them so...Oh, and OOCness?

Note's: I don't know what I'm doing! Why am I writing yet ANOTHER chapter fic? I think I'm f-ing crazy. Help me...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 1:

My King's Harem

There were rows and rows of simple, white, cubicles. To most people, of our time, they would look like showers. White, plastic walls and a glass door. The only difference is that the glass door is six inches thick and doesn't open. You get in and out from the back, through a locked door. There is a small sign, near the middle of the glass, that had a series of numbers on it. Looking something like this:

13-4-11-95

2978234978345948904

1,500,000

Which translates to something like:

13 years old, 4 feet tall, 11 inches, 95 lb.

The person's serial number

The cost of purchase in G's

Unfortunately, most people don't pay attention to these signs. The only thing they really think or care about, is the person inside the cubical that they're considering buying. These cubical like rooms all hold one or two people for sale. If there are two people in one cubical, they are sold together, normally, this happens with twins. There are both male and females up for sale, and both male and females come to purchase.

Fayt wished he was anywhere but here.

It was raining, pouring actually, and the cubicles don't have ceilings, and the thin clothes he was dressed in really didn't keep him very warm. Not that it matter, because no one cared. Truthfully, it was better when it was raining, the customers like it better because they could see their bodies better when the clothes were wet.

Fayt had been here for a while now, in the slave cubicles that is. His parents had sold him when their raining lord took their house and livestock. He had been sent here, and he had no idea what had happened to his Mother and Father, but that was a few years ago. He was getting older now, if he wasn't bought soon, he'd be sent to the docks, where he'd be worked to death by grueling manual labor. Is it crazy that he prayed every day to be bought as a slave?

He knew his card by heart, it was really the only thing he had to look at besides the people walking past. He knew his top set: 19-5-9-148, his serial number: 1235320978575645342, and cost: 1,000,875. Yes, his price was low because of how long he'd been there.

Fayt sat cross legged on the ground, watching the people in their fancy clothes with their fancy jewelry and their fancy servants dressed in fancy, but not quit as fancy as theirs, clothes. Do you see a trend? I hope so.

"Hm...ain't he a pretty one..."

Fayt glanced up at the most disgusting sight he'd ever seen. A man, old enough to be his great great grandfather, stood with his face pressed to Fayt's glass. He had tiny eyes, and dirty teeth, and there were sweat stains under his arms on his silk shirt. Flanking him were two women, dressed in thin, gauzy, layers of cloth that covered only what absolutely needed to be covered. They looked cold, but the man didn't seem to care or even notice them as long as they kept the rain off of him with their umbrella's.

"I couldn't agree more..." a cold voice spoke up from behind him. Another man came up and peered into Fayt's cubical. He was very thin, and wore a long skirt with pants underneath. His shirt was cut off at about his ribs, and his hair was long. He dressed more like a girl than a man, and he had no attendants with him to keep him dry, so his hair hung heavy with water around his eyes.

The old man jerked his head toward Fayt's card. "Yeah, but he's old. What do you think is wrong with him?"

Fayt barely contained a scowl at his rude words. Just because he was older than thirteen, that didn't mean there was anything wrong with him! He sat a lot more stiffly on the ground, glaring up at the old guy.

"I don't think he likes you very much, Sir Falk." the skinny man smirked down at Fayt from above, like he was better than him, sneering and chuckling.

Falk let out a hearty laugh. "I do believe you're correct, Lord Nox."

Lord Nox spun and glared at the fat man. "Lord Nox is my father, Falk. What have I told you about that?" his voice was icy and commanding.

Falk jerked nervously and bowed low. "My sincere apologies, Lord Albel." Falk glanced down at Fayt again, his eyes narrowed a little more than before. "If he's been here that long, there must be something wrong with him. Best not to waste your money, Lord Albel."

Fayt watched as the man named Falk lumbered away, his women hurrying behind him, trying to keep the umbrella steady and completely over the old man, their silks clinging to their legs and backs as they hurried. Fayt turned back to face the Lord still standing in front of his glass and his eyes narrowed for a split second, but the Lord obviously noticed it and smirked some more.

"Ooh, spunky..." Albel turned away, calling over the nearest seller. Fayt watched them talk for a while, both making gestures in all directions, though mostly towards Fayt. Finally, after about ten minutes, Albel dropped a money pouch in the man's out stretched palm, and the other man hurried off in quite a hurry. Albel walked back over to the glass and glanced down, giving a little laugh as Fayt scowled up at him again. "You're mine. I bought you."

A few seconds later, a door opened and three sellers stood in front of him, one holding a long, leather whip, another holding a rope, and the third a ring of keys. The one with keys knelt down and began unchaining Fayt roughly. First the collar on his neck, then the cuffs on his wrists, and then on his ankles, and lastly the belt and chain around his waist.

It had been a very long time since Fayt hadn't felt the weight of his chains, and he stood hesitantly, unsteady on his feet. His body felt so light, and he relished the free feelings, he didn't care that he was still in a cubical, and that there was a man with a whip. He hardly noticed when the second man snapped a much lighter ring around his wrist and lead him out like an animal, he was too busy staring into the cold, cruel, and laughing eyes of Albel Nox.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Can you ride a horse?" Albel asked just as they reached the edge of the slave block. Fayt didn't answer, his wrist was being rubbed raw and Albel had done nothing to slacken the tautness, even though the Lord must have noticed the redness and Fayt's winces of pain every time Albel gave a rather hard tug. Albel whipped around suddenly and his palm backhanded him across the face, snapping Fayt's head to the side. Fayt could feel his cheek stinging, but all he did was glare at the Lord who glared down at him. "You'll answer when I ask you something."

Fayt continued to glare. "Yes, Sir." Fayt mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Albel's glare hardened, yet he didn't slap him again. Instead, he spun back around and gave a sharp tug on the chain, sending waves of fire down Fayt's arm.

"Well, I hope you can ride, otherwise your ass will hurt," he turned a little and smirked over his shoulder. "And we can't have that, now can we?"

Fayt didn't answer, and Albel didn't seem to care.

After some more walking, Albel stopped again to turn and address Fayt. "We have a few stops before we go back to the palace. I'm sure you won't mind, not that it would matter even if you did." Fayt didn't answer again, and Albel promptly snapped his back with the thin chain hooked to his wrist. The blue haired man winced at the stinging, but forced himself not to react.

Albel stopped at many shops in the town, talking hurriedly to all the shop keepers who groveled and kissed ass to the Lord. And yet, he didn't purchase a single thing, not once did he bring something back from all the shops he stopped in, and Fayt was starting to wonder what the hell they were doing.

Twenty minutes later found Fayt sitting a top a huge brown mare with a tough mouth, and she seemed to enjoy jerking Fayt around in the saddle. At that present moment, he wished he was still walking.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fayt followed, well, was dragged, through a set of winding halls, and Albel didn't really seem to care that Fayt's wrists felt like they would fall off and his ass hurt so badly he winced with every step he took, but Fayt still refused to say anything to the long haired, pompous Lord. When they reached a large set of oak doors, Albel pushed them open and grimaced as soon as he looked inside and Fayt could, for once, understand him.

The room was large and halfway across the room the floor rose up about a foot, creating a higher floor for effect. There were thin, gauzy sheets of fabric draped from the ceilings, walls, and furniture. Large, plush, pink squish sacks were sprinkled around the room, some of them with girls lounging in them. The air was hot and heavy and the smell of perfume and incense saturated it, stinging and itching Fayt's nose. Large windows, with embroidered drapes took over two of the four walls, but Fayt could see the thin bars on the outside of them.

As soon as the girls and women noticed them, they gave a squeal and jumped up. Each of them dressed similar to the women attending Sir Falk. Skirts of thin gauze hung low on slim hips, bare ankles had bangles clinking around them as they ran. Loose shirts, many which bared their stomachs fluttered up, showing just a hint of breasts underneath. Their hair had ornaments in them that gave off an tinkling bell sound, and necklaces lined their throats. Each one had matching leather wrist bands decorated with thin gold and with a small ring dangling from them, and Fayt figured they were for leashes. Some of the girls wore thin, transparent, veils over their nose and mouth that matched their skirts and tops, but they were useless since they were see through.

Albel pushed Fayt into the room, and he stood awkwardly where he was as all the girls surrounded and fawned over Albel. Cooing and sighing, reaching out and rubbing his arms and back, neck and legs. They pushed up close to his arms and body, pressing their chests to him and cooing in low or whiny voices, trying to get Albel to notice them. Fayt figured he was the only person, besides Albel, who noticed how irritated the Lord was with the women.

"Get off, you stupid wenches." he hollered. "The next bitch who touches me gets thrown to the brothels."

Every girl suddenly jumped back, dropping to the floor in low bows, their heads touching the floor. Fayt, embarrassingly, noticed that their clothes were pretty transparent when pulled tight to the body, and he could clearly see each of the girls butts now. One of the younger girls, she looked about thirteen or fourteen, skirt was a little to loose, and could see the tiny indents of dimples on the upper ass.

'Great,' Fayt thought in exasperation. 'I'm checking out a thirteen year old prostitutes butt dimples.' Fayt was really starting to worry about himself in these moments.

"Oh, get up. You're all my pretty, blood soaked, cherry blossoms. I can't have you getting dirty on the floor." Albel rolled his eyes, clearly irritated. "Just go back to doing whatever whores do in their free time."

Slowly, they all rose and went back to what they had been doing before, and Fayt glared at him. These women were only trying to please him, yet he treated them like dirt. Fayt decided to ignore the fact that they sold themselves to men for now, and he wasn't surprise when Albel's hand cracked against his cheek once again for glaring at him. If Albel kept hitting him, his face was going to seriously bruise.

"You." Albel snapped, jerking his head at a woman with long black hair. She stood quickly, bowing a little towards him. "Is the new plush here?" he asked, not even bothering to look at her, preferring to scan the room instead, snarling a little at what he saw.

The woman nodded. "Yes, Lord Albel. Over there." she held a hand out in a general direction and Fayt's eyes landed on one of the large, squishy sacks in blue. It had had several things piled on it, and Fayt's name was embroidered in the side of it.

"At least they were on time, unlike normal." Albel mumbled, as he stalked over to the sack. He grabbed the pile, which Fayt now noticed was the same silky cloth, and offered them to Fayt. He took them, a little confused at what he was suppose to do with them. "Put these on, I'll be back later to get you, to announce your arrival here to my Father." he glared at Fayt's befuddled look. "The women will help you if you have trouble." and he stalked out, gratefully closing the large door, leaving Fayt with a dozen women in an overly perfumed room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Yay, another fic that randomly popped into my head, that now won't leave. I hope I have quicker updates with this one than with some of my other fics, how embarrassing...

And I hate the words women and woman! They sound different, but are pretty much spelt the same! I have so many problems with remember which is which!

women plural

woman single

Please review. This is actually a story I thought up a long time ago, but never actually wrote it before. I've always wanted to write a Harem story, so here it goes. Sorry for any OOCness, I'll do my best to keep it minimal.

REVIEW!