Felix sat perfectly still, elbow propped on the chair arm and holding a glass of wine, leaning back casually with his head canted downward and free hand resting loosely on one slim thigh. He moved not at all except for the occasional sideways flick of his eyes; in those same eyes lurked twin fear and expectation.

"Very nice. As long as you keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, you could almost pass in respectable society." Malkar's voice was biting, cruel. "Straighten your back, darling. You know how I loathe that slouch of yours." Felix straightened. Malkar smiled. "Better. Now. What is your name?"

"Felix Harrowgate." He concentrated on the enunciation of the vowels. He'd gotten better at it, but when he wasn't thinking sometimes he would slip. And he didn't want to slip.

"No, darling, that won't do. I ask your name, and you say "I am Lord Felix Harrowgate" and for god's sake get rid of those awful vowels."

Felix flinched and repeated, dutifully, "I am Lord Felix Harrowgate," trying to put some easy arrogance into his voice. "And for god's sake get rid of those awful vowels."

Malkar cuffed him and he barely caught himself on the arm of the chair. "Don't be cheeky, darling. It doesn't suit you." His voice was still a malevolent purr.

"Yes, Malkar." He lowered his eyes. "I am Lord Felix Harrowgate."

"Better. Again."

Felix looked up. "Must I really-"

Malkar's eyebrows rose precipitously. "Are you questioning me?" He froze, breath catching as he briefly met his master's eyes before glancing down. "No, Malkar."

He crossed the distance in two strides and forced Felix's head up. "Look at me when you speak to me, darling," he purred, "At my face. Nowhere else. Say it again."

"I am-" He looked up at Malkar, forced himself to meet his eyes, and then fell silent. A whimper might have escaped. Malkar's slap hit him full across the face and he was flung back, violently, some of the wine splashing out. "You worthless slut," he said, voice still reasonable and calm. "You weren't even worth the purchase price." He stepped back and walked away. "Drink your wine before you spill anymore of it."

Felix raised the cup to his lips and sipped it, hand trembling a little before he stilled it. To his surprise, the wine did not taste of phoenix. He drained it slowly anyway, watching Malkar warily.

"Set the glass down." Felix obeyed almost without thinking and Malkar turned, examining him. "There's wine on your shirt."

He looked down. "I'm sorry," he breathed, flinching at the bright purple stain on the fine white cloth.

"You're sorry? Witless whore. Get rid of it!"

Felix hesitated a bare moment. It was enough. A hand wrapped around his mind and squeezed, sending brutal, fiery pain down his nerves. Get rid of it, Malkar's voice roared in his mind, and this time it was more than a command. Felix was on his knees trying fruitlessly to scrub at the stain with both hands, shaking, before he was aware of making the choice to go there.

Malkar laughed cruelly. "Very nice. You may stop." Felix stopped and took a shuddering breath, pushing himself to his feet.

"Malkar…"

"Asking for something, my sweet?" his smile was sharp as knives and Felix flinched away from it. "Take off your shirt. I will burn it." He hesitated a bare moment and Malkar's voice was sharp as a whip crack. "I'd sooner not repeat myself. Take off the shirt." He pulled it off, unbuttoning it, fingers clumsy and the silk slipping too fast through his fingers. He felt unsteady.

Then Malkar came to him.

"You're drunk." That seemed wrong. He hadn't had nearly enough wine for that. And there hadn't been phoenix in it. He took a deep breath and tried to stop his head spinning. "You know I detest it when you come to me drunk."

"Yes, Malkar," he said, faintly. Malkar's fingers brushed his jaw and he heard himself whimper, feeling fire follow his touch. "Please…"

The touch lingered on his lips before it was replaced my Malkar's mouth, warm and hard and demanding. He closed his eyes and shook, fear and desire in equal quantities. Malkar's hands wandered down to his ass and squeezed. And just as suddenly he pulled away, his backhand crack throwing Felix sideways into the chair so he nearly fell, his head ringing, Malkar towering over him. "Say it," he snarled.

"I – I am –" His breath fled. He stared gasping up at Malkar, fear threatening to swamp him. "Please, don't, don't, I swear I'll be good," he tried to plead. And too late heard his own voice, vowels slurred and indistinct. He went cold and cringed, shivering. Malkar was laughing.

"You'll 'be good?' We'll see about that. Come." His voice was a whip crack. Felix heard himself make a small noise in his throat and couldn't make his legs work. "Come, Felix." A command, this time, man to dog, and Felix came like a well trained dog, limping at his master's heels.

They didn't go the bedroom. How many times had Malkar said he wouldn't soil his bed with filth? There was another room, a quiet room, a locked room. A workroom. He almost balked, entering after Malkar, but couldn't quite make himself resist. Not with the command to follow burning in his veins. The door shut silently behind him and locked and he stood in a room of bare concrete.

Then the blindfold settled over his eyes. "Don't fight, darling," Malkar's voice purred in the sudden darkness as his breath caught. "You know you can't fight me. Right?"

"Yes, Malkar," he breathed, shaking more. He tried to stay still, tried to contain his fear. Malkar knew him too well for that.

"Frightened, darling?" His master's lips brushed his as his hand ran down his chest, so lightly. It left him cold. "You asked for this. You want this." He cried out as Malkar's fingers closed like pincers on his nipple and twisted, hard, his back arching. "Just say no. All you have to do…is say no…"

"No," he gasped, breathlessly, as Malkar mercilessly pinched his sensitive skin, "No, no, god no-"

Malkar laughed, and Felix heard him step back as he pulled off the blindfold. Felix kept his eyes closed, though his head fell limply back and he could hear himself whimpering "Is that so hard?" He shuddered and swayed, feeling about to fall. Then his voice was an order again. "Strip."

Felix forced his eyes open and looked up, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "You said-"

Malkar's smile was cruel and mocking. "I lied. Strip." Felix could think of nothing to do but obey, feeling sick as Malkar's eyes raked over his body. "What a beautiful little whore you are." One hand pushed the hair back from his face before seizing it and forcing his head down for another kiss, savage, hard, merciless, tongue pressing against Felix's lips. He moaned and opened his mouth, feeling his body slacken in surrender even as other parts hardened. Malkar's hand grabbed at his ass again and he could feel his master's hardness as that hand pressed their hips together. Then Malkar shoved him away.

"Down," he said, panting as he yanked off his shirt and set to work on his pants. Felix hesitated, and Malkar's hand seized the back of his neck, shoving him down to his knees and further, pressing a knee in the center of his back. Felix cried out and Malkar dragged his head back by his hair. "You know how I hate your noises. Do I have to gag you?"

Felix whimpered and Malkar laughed, standing. Felix made no effort to move, panting and shaking, squeezing his eyes closed as Malkar bound his feet to two small posts in the floor, forcing his legs apart. He left his hands free this time and knelt behind him, hand slipping around to caress his cock almost tenderly, slipping something onto him before drawing back. He drew a gasping breath.

"What-?"

"You ask too many questions, darling. I think I will gag you." He slipped the strip of cloth in his mouth as Felix tried to protest, tying it tightly. He bit down on the ball between his teeth and nearly gagged at the strain in his throat. He couldn't turn his head far enough to see Malkar, but he could hear his heavy breathing as he knelt again.

You can't fight him, Felix tried to remind himself. Don't fight. Just relax. Relax. The floor was cold beneath his face; he felt sick in the pit of his belly but more pressing was the height in his groin and he almost whimpered again, nearly choking on the ball gag.

Malkar shoved two fingers inside him and he cried out, choking, body jerking with surprise and pain. Malkar ignored him this time, pushing another finger in, coating him in the thick oil. He tried to focus on something, anything else, but he could still hear the little whimpering sounds he made, could still feel-

His entrance threw Felix against his chains and he would have screamed. His hand closed on the back of his neck, forcing his head down, pressing his face against the stone floor, grunting with exertion. A shiver of pleasure and pain ran down his spine, pain on the back of his legs as he strained-

Malkar thrust again, other hand finding his nipple again, tugging, twisting. Felix tried to thrash, clawed at the stone floor. No, no, no, he wanted to cry, but the gag choked his cries in his mouth and all he could do was whimper feebly into the stone floor, the friction painful and arousing, sick humiliation surging. Malkar's teeth bit at his shoulder, his hand twisted and Felix cried out plaintively, wanting, wanting.

Again, again, his movements more rhythmic as he pounded in and out roughly and Felix twitched and squirmed and writhed, a fist steadily tightening around his genitals until he was only aware of blinding white pain and a small, continual whimpering sound. Malkar's climax hardly registered.

He tore the gag free and Felix heard himself sob, desperately. "Please, please – please – it hurts, it hurts-" Malkar struck him again and his head cracked against the stone floor.

"Be quiet, slut," he snarled, but when his hands began to move Felix's back arched and he fell, screaming, the very touch agony, sensitive skin on fire. He screamed and Malkar hit him, then again when he wouldn't shut up.

His sight went blank for a moment. When it came back, Malkar was shaking cum off his hands, face twisted in disgust, and Felix was trembling, limp, panting, still almost sobbing, his entire body aching. His voice came out as a whimper. "Malkar?"

"Pull yourself together," he snapped, standing and going over to wash his hands. "Go clean yourself. You look a frightful mess."

Felix forced himself to stand, feeling wobbly as a colt. He locked his knees and prayed that he would stay upright. "What…" he licked his lips. Malkar turned and looked at him and Felix quailed, eyes dropping.

"You ask too many questions, darling. I don't want to hear them. Who are you?"

Felix swallowed. His throat felt raw. "I am…Lord Felix Harrowgate," he said, not quite hesitantly. Malkar turned and came to him, and the blow came as a surprise. His lip split and he stared at his master, surprised.

"You're no lord," Malkar said, scornfully, "You're an upjumped little whore."

His knees trembled. He wanted to fall. His head rang like a bell. "Yes, Malkar," he said, breathlessly, and Malkar laughed. It was a dark and terrible sound.

"Then show me what you're good for," Malkar said, and kissed him. Felix went limp with a small noise, a mouse in a hawk's talons.