Saiyuki is property of Minekura Kazuya. No copyright infringement intended, and no money is being made from this story.
A/N: Written for Xcerpted at the LJ 7th Night Smut anonymous giftfic exchange. Prompt was: Prince Kami-sama and his sexually abusive royal tutor. Who he adores, of course.
6 Years ago:
"I should tell you about the young master," the woman in front of him said, as she walked quickly down the narrow hall. "It's no secret, but it's not something that gets talked about, either. You want to watch what you say, and to whom, as some are touchy about the whole thing."
The man smiled faintly at her back. It seemed that his appointment here might be interesting, after all. In truth, he had not been very happy to receive the letter that had brought him here, but when kings call, commoners answer. It is the way of things everywhere, and this visitor to a foreign land was certainly no exception.
"Now, I'm not one to go throwing my opinion about, especially as concerns my betters, but it's a pity, what goes on."
He smirked, now. This woman would be a fount of information if one only asked. It was always the ones who made a point of their discretion that ended up being the easiest to break. He filed this away for later reference, should he need it.
"In truth, the young master is a prince, though this is never acknowledged in company." Here she turned, fixing the dark-haired man with a pointed stare. "Mind you remember that now, or there'll be no end of the trouble it'll cause." The woman - Coombs, that was her name - slid her glance down over him and back up, then pursed her lips with a truncated sigh and turned away.
"His Highness did some travelling in his youth. He returned with the first of his concubines and a babe. For many reasons, Lady Kiku could not become His Highness' wife, but she is an official concubine. Thus, Master Geoffrey is a prince, even if no one says it out loud."
"Why," the man interjected, "does no one acknowledge him? I understand that the child is not legitimate, but is it not the custom that the children of official concubines are still treated as royalty? After all, none may know what the future brings, and heirs - legitimate or otherwise - are precious."
Mrs. Coombs stopped once again, turning around to look at him. Her face pinched up, covering the light of excitement that flickered briefly in her eyes.
"That, Mr. Tetsooya, is none of your concern," she stated flatly.
The man pushed his glasses up on his nose in what he hoped was a disarming gesture. "It - it's Tetsuya," he stammered, to reinforce the bookish image, "Nakajima Tetsuya. Forgive me, but in my country, the family name is placed first, so it would be Mr. Nakajima. Please excuse my interruption."
Mrs. Coombs, looking distinctly unimpressed, nonetheless gave him a curt nod. "My apologies, Mr. Nakajima," she muttered. "In any case, I am quite certain that you can fulfill your role as Master Geoffrey's tutor without that knowledge. Or will we be requiring another?"
"Please forgive my rudeness, Mrs. Coombs," Nakajima said with another bow, "Of course, you are correct."
She gave a soft 'humph' of disapproval, but turned and began to walk again. "Your suite of rooms is in the south wing…"
Nakajima Tetsuya decided that perhaps this appointment might even be enjoyable.It was, as things turned out, simple beyond Nakajima's wildest dreams. His young charge was the only son of King Geoffrey and his most favoured concubine, Lady Kiku. Intrigues and jealousies in the women's wing, coupled with the fact of the boy's mixed parentage and his place as the first of the King's sons, had led to his being separated from the other children. In order to keep peace among those in the palace, it had been decided that he would be entrusted to the care of a tutor; Lady Kiku had insisted that he be educated on the language, history and culture of her homeland. Thus Nakajima Tetsuya, carefully placed within easy notice of the court, had been chosen.
The prince was but eight years of age when Nakajima entered the service of the King, and ripe for the careful attentions of his tutor. The entirety of the boy's education and discipline was put under Nakajima's purview. Naturally, this chance did not go to waste, being so perfectly suited to both Nakajima's own ambitions and the orders with which he had been sent.
From the beginning, the young prince seemed to feel a connection to his new teacher; being young and so ostracized from his siblings and peers, it was a simple matter for Nakajima to insinuate himself into the boy's affections. Pet names, gentle words and 'innocent' contact worked their magic and, before two years had passed, the child was entirely under Nakajima's influence.
On Prince Geoffrey's fourteenth birthday, Nakajima Tetsuya drew the finishing stroke on this masterpiece of manipulation, taking his pretty, young pupil into his bed. Ever cautious, he allowed his true nature to show slowly, that it might not frighten the prince and lead to discovery. Nakajima continued to teach, but his lessons became suspicion and the appreciation of pain, distrust and a need for submission. Every day the prince grew more dependent upon his beloved tutor, never knowing the extent to which he had been enslaved.
Nakajima sat alone in his study, cigarette in hand, awaiting the arrival of his errant student. This simply would not do. Years of planning and careful manipulation sat now upon the edge of a knife, entirely due to that brat and his mouth. It would come to nothing - Nakajima was nothing if not cautious - but the fact remained that the boy had caused him some difficulty. Tomorrow Nakajima would answer to the king; tonight, the prince would answer to Nakajima.
He ran a hand through thick black hair, his eyes tracing the path of smoke as it ducked and wove in the disturbed air. It was not in his nature to become angry, though he did feel a certain amount of annoyance mingling with that odd sensation of anticipation for the confrontation to come. A familiar pressure had begun to build in his groin and he smirked around his cigarette as he considered his options. Briefly, he wondered if perhaps he had done too good a job on the boy. It would certainly explain the frequent, small rebellions of late. Nakajima doubted that this incident fell under that category. The prince should be frightened of the type of punishment his tutor would mete out for such a thing. Of course, should did not necessarily translate to would.
Taking another drag and exhaling grey smoke into the lamp-lit air, he glanced down to the large drawer at the foot of his desk. It was, as always, securely locked against the prying eyes of the servants. Nakajima rubbed his chin as he contemplated the question of whether to use the key in his pocket now, or to wait. The contents of that drawer were special, only ever used in cases…well, cases like this one. Figuring that it would be much more effective if he waited, he leaned back in his chair and reached down to adjust his semi-hard sex.
Nakajima stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray, immediately reaching for another. He would be loath to admit it aloud, but this situation was somewhat troublesome. Oh, defusing the king would be easy enough, but dealing with the prince was another mater entirely. If he was looking for punishment, then Nakajima was going to have to ensure that the boy got more than he had bargained for. It was, after all, something that he did not want repeated. No, this was going to have to be an experience that would make Prince Geoffrey regret his indiscretion.
As if in answer to his thoughts, the study door opened and the prince sauntered in. After closing the door behind him, he turned to face Nakajima. Though he tried to keep his face blank, Nakajima saw the faint traces of a smile pulling at the corners of his young pupil's lips. Anger hardened in Nakajima's stomach like concrete. Oh, this was simply not to be borne. Prince Geoffrey had smirked his way into a punishment unlike any he had ever experienced.
"Good evening, Sensei," the prince greeted, using the word for teacher from Nakajima's native language. It was one of many things that the tutor used to create intimacy between them, to foster feelings of dependency and trust.
"Geoffrey," Nakajima responded, his tone as rigid as iron. All traces of the prince's smirk abruptly disappeared.
"Why are you calling me that?"
Nakajima took a long draw from his smoke as he stood. Looking down as he put it out with one hand, he beckoned the prince with the other. He obeyed, crossing the room with steps grown hesitant. When he stood directly before the desk, Nakajima walked around to meet him. Teacher and student stared into each other's eyes for a long, silent moment before Nakajima reached out to lay a ringing slap across the prince's face.
Prince Geoffrey's hand flew to his cheek, shock registering in blue eyes that filled with tears. They were not a result of pain, Nakajima knew. No, it was the fact of the slap, the humiliation and surprise, the feeling of betrayal that the boy must now be feeling. Before now, it would never have crossed his mind that his beloved tutor would ever raise a hand against him.
"What right have you, Geoffrey, to expect intimacies from me, after you have betrayed me?" Nakajima watched as the shock in the prince's expression gave way to a kind of horror and not a little fear. It pleased him to see this, though he did not allow it show.
"But - but, I didn't mean -" the prince stammered, reaching out for Nakajima, who abruptly slapped his hand away.
"You didn't mean to run you idiot mouth? Do you have any idea of the trouble you've caused me?"
"I'm sorry! I - I just wanted to…" the boy trailed off, dropping his gaze and hanging his head.
Nakajima waited a moment, though he knew that the prince would not continue. The tension built as the silence deepened between them. The faint ticking of the small clock on the desk seemed to become deafening in the still air.
"You wanted," Nakajima stated flatly, "to push me. Well, you have succeeded. Now, what shall I do with such an unruly student?"
"I don't know, Sensei," the prince said softly, still staring at the floor.
Nakajima leaned close, to speak into Prince Geoffrey's ear, "Of course you do." He pulled back, and then reached up to lift the boy's chin. Blue eyes lifted to meet his gaze. "Now tell me, what did you hope to achieve by your disobedience? What should I do with you?"
"Punish me, Sensei," Geoffrey replied through trembling lips. His eyes still shone with unshed tears. Nakajima wanted to see those tears fall, clinging to long black lashes and leaving shining tracks on soft cheeks. A dark tendril of lust coiled through his gut, settling in his groin, and he nearly smiled.
"Tsk, tsk. Where are your manners?"
Geoffrey swallowed hard, briefly closing his eyes before responding, "Sensei, please punish me."
Now Nakajima did smile, an expression that was equal parts indulgence for his pupil and predatory baring of teeth at his intended prey. Though punishment was what the prince had desired, Nakajima knew that he had not prepared himself for what was to come. He could practically feel the fear rolling off the thin body before him. It was time for a conciliatory gesture.
"Of course, Kaoru-chan," he said. Geoffrey's eyes brightened a little at the sound of the name his mother had given him. Nakajima had begun using it almost immediately upon meeting the prince, explaining that the honorific -chan was an endearment. It had produced precisely the binding effect that the tutor had intended, and doubled as a rather effective weapon with the emotionally unstable boy.
Nakajima reached into his pocket and drew out a key. It flashed in the light of the lamp on his desk. The prince's eyes grew wide again, as he recognized it, but he said nothing. Nakajima placed it firmly in the boy's hand.
"Open the drawer, Kaoru."
After only a brief hesitation, he obeyed, walking around his teacher and the desk and bending down to turn the key in the lock. The dry sound of wood sliding against wood filled the air, momentarily drowning out the ticking of the clock. Kaoru straightened, handing the key back when Nakajima held out his hand for it.
"Now, take everything out. Put it all on the desk." Nakajima was enjoying himself, now. Thoughts of anything beyond the study faded, dismissed for the more engaging game within. In actuality, he only wanted a few of the items from the drawer, but this way would be far more unsettling for the prince.
Once everything was laid out across Nakajima's desk, he had Kaoru come back around to the other side. He went behind the desk himself, settling himself comfortably in his high-backed chair. For long moments, he simply stared across at the boy, letting the anticipation build until he could practically see the thin body begin to tremble. Then:
"Strip for me, Kaoru." Once again, the name caused the prince to brighten, and he set about doing as he was told. Nakajima watched calmly as Kaoru divested himself of his clothing with barely-repressed enthusiasm. When he was finished, he stood, naked before his teacher's gaze, slightly flushed and with evident excitement. For being only fifteen, the prince had quite a stunning body. Nakajima rather enjoyed looking at it, his cock straining against his trousers as he did so.
With care and a measured pace, Nakajima picked up two long strips of leather from the desk and set about fastening them to two metal rings attached to the underside. Kaoru watched silently, goose bumps rising on his skin. The air in the study was warm, but the exposure coupled with watching these preparations were likely to be causing him some distress. That would play nicely into Nakajima's plans. At last, the tethers were secure enough for his taste, and he beckoned to Kaoru.
"Lean over the desk," he ordered, though he kept his voice soft. The prince did, and Nakajima reached out for one of his wrists. He tied first one, then the other, adjusting the tethers so that they pulled the boy to lay flat across the surface of the desk. Kaoru lifted his head to look at Nakajima, who grinned wolfishly at him. "Comfortable?"
Without waiting for a response, Nakajima stood, grabbing two more strips of leather before walking around to stand behind Kaoru. The sight of the prince's slim body - tied down and nearly helpless, his sweetly rounded ass so vulnerable and inviting - nearly overcame him. For a split second, Nakajima considered forgetting all of the accoutrements and just burying his cock inside Kaoru. He shook his head quickly, trying to drive the urge away. He managed to master himself, and knelt down beside the boy's leg.
Quickly now, his lust spurring him on, Nakajima tied one of the leather thongs to the leg of his desk. The other end, he wrapped around Kaoru's ankle. Afterward, he moved around to tie the other ankle in the same way. Oh, now that was a beautiful sight. Bent over his desk with legs spread wide and waiting, Kaoru was a temptation beyond sin.
Giving in just a little, Nakajima stepped in behind Kaoru, dragging fingers up the backs of his thighs before reaching between to grip his hard length. He leaned forward, pressing his hips against Kaoru's ass for the delicious friction it provided. Lowering himself along his captive's back, Nakajima reached out to pick up two more of the items laid out on his desk. He heard the sharp intake of Kaoru's breath as the boy saw what he took. He smirked as he straightened, pressing harder than strictly necessary into the body before him. Kaoru's back stiffened, and he instinctively pushed back, trying to prolong the contact as Nakajima pulled away.
"Well, now…don't you look delicious, all laid out and waiting for me," Nakajima purred, using his thumb to pop the top from the vial he held in one hand. "I'll wager that you expected a bit of a whipping and a nice, hard fuck for punishment, didn't you?" When Kaoru didn't respond, Nakajima demanded, "Answer me."
With a tiny whimper, Kaoru nodded, "Yes, Sensei."
"You miscalculated."
Kaoru squirmed a little against the desk, which made his ass gyrate in a most pleasing way. Nakajima watched, wanting to lay a sound smack on the boy, but his hands were full. He had to content himself with the anticipation of what he was going to do next. He dribbled the oil from the vial he held onto the object in his other hand. When it was fairly coated, he reached out and tipped the vial again, letting the contents slide into the cleft of Kaoru's ass. Punishment it might be, but it need not be damaging. Nakajima would hate to lose his pretty toy, just because he was annoyed and careless.
Without warning, he placed the object against Kaoru's entrance. The rounded tip pressed in, and the smallest of the bumps along it's length slid past the muscles easily. It was, after all, quite modest in size. Kaoru whimpered again, attempting to push back, to get more pressure. Nakajima let him buck and gyrate, simply holding the object lightly, so that there was nothing against which to push. It was sublime to see, though. He smiled just a little bit.
When the prince gave up his attempts and lay still once more, Nakajima began again, pushing lightly, watching Kaoru's body stretch to accommodate the next, slightly larger section. The boy moaned as the widest point entered him; the muscles of his thighs were rigid with the effort he exerted, not to fight for more.
"Very good," Nakajima praised him, "you always were a fast learner, Kaoru."
As a reward, he pulled the instrument almost all the way out before pushing it back in, enjoying the tiny sounds of loss and pleasure from his captive pupil. The third of the bumps, larger still than the second, gave some resistance, but slow and steady pressure soon wrested a cry from Kaoru as it slipped inside. The prince panted, his groans deeper now, more ragged and plaintive. He refused to ask, but those sounds were a plea that Nakajima understood quite clearly.
Ignoring them, he pushed again, Kaoru's grunts filling his ears like notes of music. This last part was the widest of all, stretching the prince's body to it's limit as it slid slowly forward until it was firmly seated inside of him. The base settled snugly against Kaoru's flesh, and his hips bucked again as Nakajima released it. In time, he stilled, realising that he would get no relief from his tormentor, choking back something that might have been a sob.
"Aw," Nakajima cooed, "what's the matter, Kaoru? I rather thought you were enjoying that." He paused for response, which came as a kind of low whine from the prince. "Come on, you can do better than that," he encouraged.
"Please, Sensei," Kaoru ground out through clenched teeth, "please…"
Nakajima waited, but the boy said no more, just dropping his head gently to the desk.
"Oh," he intoned with exaggerated sympathy, "I'll take that as a request for more. You know I don't accept incomplete answers." With a grin, he reached across the desk once more, taking hold of the last piece of leather laying there. Both wide and thick, this was no tether. It was designed for one thing only, and that was pain. Kaoru, watching with wide eyes as it was plucked from his view, was unable to restrain himself. He whimpered, moaned and squirmed, knowing what was to come next.
"Shhh, it's all right. It will be over soon."
"Sensei…"
Nakajima swung the strap, Kaoru's words turning to a sharp cry of pain as the leather connected with his flesh. A red swath immediately appeared across the boy's enticing buttocks; the tutor's groin pulsed in response, and he swung again. Again, Kaoru cried out, too loudly.
"You must not be so loud, my prince," Nakajima chided, "We don't want the servants talking, now do we?"
"N-no, Sensei," Kaoru responded, his voice heavy with the trembling caused by his tears of pain.
"Very good."
This time, when he slapped the leather against the waiting flesh before him, the only sound was a strangled grunt. Kaoru bit his lip to keep his voice from rising as the strap stung his flesh again and again. Nakajima stopped now and then to caress his heated skin, amused at the way the boy struggled to press tighter against his cool hand. Welts rose where the leather touched, stripes of white against red skin. When Nakajima leaned over to see his charge's face, he smiled.
"You're beautiful when you cry, Kaoru-chan," he said, relenting just a little, that the prince might draw strength from the endearment. "Your tears are like diamonds, sparkling in the light. They please me."
Kaoru squeezed his eyes shut, his body struggling in vain for release from his torment. Deep imprints from his teeth marked his lower lip, but he made no sound. Nakajima smiled again; this kind of play was making it very difficult to restrain himself. His cock was positively aching, straining against the fabric of his clothing, and he was nearing the end of his patience. The sight of the bound prince was simply to tempting to ignore any longer. He had never meted out such punishment before, had never made the boy cry like this. It should be enough.
He dropped the strap on the floor and reached for the fastening of his trousers. Once opened, they joined the leather, pooled about Nakajima's feet. Gripping the object that he had inserted, he pulled slowly back, watching as the bumps appeared, stretching and then releasing the muscles as he extracted it. Kaoru's low moan drove right to his cock, making it jump in anticipation. With a deliberate calm that he did not feel, Nakajima thrust the instrument back into Kaoru's bound body, again and again. When almost all resistance had faded, he pulled it right out and placed it on the desk.
Kaoru was quivering now, his legs tired from holding his position and quaking with the aftermath of his tears. Nakajima reached out to trail fingers lightly along the boy's back, and was rewarded with a hiss as he shivered under the touch. Perfect.
Stepping in behind, Nakajima gripped his cock, positioning himself at Kaoru's entrance. He waited for the inevitable attempt to push back, then pressed forward quickly, seating himself in one smooth motion. Kaoru's body surrounded him in a fluid kind of heat, smooth and tight. Nakajima groaned, and Kaoru cried out.
"Quiet!" Nakajima hissed, leaning for ward to press a hand to Kaoru's mouth. He was taller than the prince, but it was still a bit of a stretch; it changed the angle of his cock, and he clenched his jaw to keep from making noise, himself. The other hand, he snaked up to fist in Kaoru's hair, pulling the boy's head back. That eased the tension of the other arm, and he tried and experimental thrust.
Kaoru moaned and wriggled against Nakajima, pressing still-heated skin against his abdomen. That was the finishing stroke to Nakajima's control, and he fell to the task of fucking his pretty pupil with everything he had. Thrust after thrust, his hips snapping forward over and over, he listened to Kaoru's sounds of pleasure, muffled behind his hand. Mercilessly, he used the hand in the prince's hair to pull him back, to increase the power of his thrusts, to make those sounds come more, louder, harsher. At some point, Nakajima's finger slipped into Kaoru's opened mouth; it made no real difference, as the prince bit down, closing his lips around it in order to stifle himself.
The thick slap of flesh on flesh grew, gaining a new edge as sweat rolled down Nakajima's abdomen and groin. The wet heat around Nakajima's finger matched that surrounding his cock, doubling the pleasure of each sensation. The grunts and pants of Kaoru beneath him drove him on; he felt his climax rising. Not much time, now. Pulling away from the prince's mouth, Nakajima reached for the knife he used to open letters, sliding it under and slicing the tether holding Kaoru's left hand.
Lightning-fast, Kaoru's free hand shot down, under the desk to grip his own hard cock and begin pumping a hard and fast rhythm. Nakajima reached up again, to wrap his fingers around the prince's slim throat, still using the other for leverage. Kaoru's muscles tightened around Nakajima's length as he built toward his own release, taking his tutor with him. Just a few strokes more, and Kaoru's over-wrought body gave in, spurting thickly over his fingers and down the front of the desk.
Nakajima, his voice harsh with his efforts to hold himself back, rasped out, "Kaoru…lick it off."
With a deep moan, Kaoru obeyed, twisting his head so that his teacher could see his tongue snaking out to lap at the come that coated his fingers.
Nakajima's teeth ground together, and it seemed the world exploded. He came with a ferocity that he had never experienced, snapping his hips against Kaoru's ass with a stuttering rhythm that proved his loss of control, a barking cry of release tearing from his throat. Eyes rolling back into his head, he collapsed across Kaoru's back.
After they had both caught their breath somewhat, Nakajima pulled away to cut the ties that still bound the prince. Then he placed a sound slap on Kaoru's ass.
"You're forgiven, this time. Don't forget where your loyalties lie."
Kaoru squealed with delight and practically jumped on Nakajima, throwing his arms around his tutor's neck and stealing a kiss.
Nakajima, for his part, had already begun planning what new things he would have to procure, in the event that this kind of thing ever happened again.