Note: Ya. I should be updating SN/GotBR and doing…other important stuff. But I just laid my eyes on probably the best MateusFirion picture ever and I was just inspired to write this. This will actually be a series of short stories, then the plot will reveal itself. So it won't all be PWP-ish. I'm trying to get back into writing because I don't want my skills to go stale, so your insights on how I can improve are much appreciated. Also, this fanfic is rated M for a reason. If you don't like yaoi, MateusFirion, Broken!Firion, or Master-Slave relationships, kindly return to the page you were viewing before you came to this. I will also post warnings before a chapter starts if it contains certain explicit materials.

He had broken him.

The once influential, persistent, and most dangerous man of the Fynn Rebellion Army against the Palamecian Empire was no more than a dog at his feet now. An obedient dog. A brainwashed dog. His dog.

It was just how the Emperor of Palamecia liked it.

The ruler had stripped the former rebel of everything; his possessions, friends, weapons, magic, skills…and he was flogged. Flogged until his whole body was numb. Flogged until the pain in his head drew him insane. Flogged until the pain brought him pleasure. This, the ruler thought, was what you got if you defied the Palamecian Empire. Captured, flogged, then executed.

But this one was special.

The Emperor didn't want to execute him.

He wanted him to suffer; suffer for all those times he foiled his plans. He wanted to play with him. Then when he grew bored of him or if he should regain his mind and memories at any time, the Emperor would hastily have him executed.

For now though, the boy was his toy. No longer a pestering insect, but a dog. His dog. An obedient pup, because of his age.

Currently, the pup sat obediently at his feet, body completely free of any clothing or accessories save for the anklets, armlets, wristbands, earrings, and rings that adorned his body. A gold-plated collar was around his neck, attached to a long, golden bead chain that the Emperor grasped in his hand. The Emperor thought about giving his pet a dog tag, but he figured that it wouldn't look well with him, and that people would already know who the boy belonged to after decorating him with jewelries from his personal collection. He also thought about giving him more piercings, but he didn't want to add anymore decorations onto his pet unless if he was sure that they would look good on him. The white mages had just finished healing the imperfections in the other's skin after the flogging, and he didn't want them touching his pet anymore than they had to. The Emperor was a zealous perfectionist that took attentive care of his possessions. If they belonged to him, they either had to be of high quality and beauty, or he would make them beautiful himself; shape them in his image, or an image he liked. The dog was no different. He had turned him into a work of art; art only he can touch.

"Mate…usuuu…"

"Hm?"

The Emperor looked down at the boy, who had situated himself between the ruler's legs. Golden, almost puppy-like eyes stared up at him. The Emperor knew that look all too well. It was the look he gave whenever he wanted something.

"What do you want, pet?"

"Uu…"

The boy pointed at the bowl of grapes that was in the Emperor's grasp. A bit of drool dripped from the edge of his mouth and down his chin. For a moment, the Emperor had forgotten that he was holding the bowl. It was his afternoon snack. Usually he would have a servant feeding him, but he wanted to be alone with his new pet. His pet's condition intrigued him.

"You want this?"

The Emperor held up the bowl of grapes, out of the boy's reach. The boy didn't attempt to go after it; he knew what would happen if he did. Instead he nodded eagerly and shifted in his spot between the Emperor's legs until he sat up straight, gazing at the other expectantly, as if waiting for a treat. The Emperor narrowed his eyes a bit at this act. He lowered the bowl, watching the boy's face light up momentarily. The ruler paused.

"…"

Shift, shift.

"…"

He frowned lightly and dropped the bowl at his feet, using his magic to keep the bowl from breaking and to keep the food from falling out. Just as the boy was about to scamper towards it, the Emperor stomped his foot into the bowl, crushing the grapes with the sole and heel of his boot. He watched as the boy's expression went from hopeful to crushed. The boy's eyes darted downward, as if wondering if there was something he did wrong. "Oi," the Emperor called. The ex-rebel looked back up at its master. Again, his eyes had a hint of hope in them. The Emperor lifted his boot, resting his leg on top of his knee. The boy tilted his head in curiosity. "Lick it clean. Then you can eat." The Emperor simply said, gesturing to his boot, which was now covered in the juices, skins, and stems of the grapes in the bowl. The boy beamed and moved forward slowly. He quickly got to work, opening his mouth and letting his tongue ravage the boot. Almost immediately, he got a small kick from the Emperor. "Gently, mutt," he heard the Emperor growl. The boy took the advice this time and instead, moved his tongue slowly across the boot, licking it sensually. The Emperor took note of this activity. The boy even licked the dirt that had accumulated in the recesses of the bottom of his boot during his morning walk. The boy kept going at his work and didn't stop until the whole object was licked clean. When he was done, he licked his lips and moved back a little, eyes gazing up at the Emperor for his confirmation and permission to eat. The Emperor took one look at his boot. He moved his foot, turning the boot over to get a good look at the whole thing. He scrutinized the whole boot, as if looking for one speck of dirt or grape peel that would give him an excuse to scold the boy. Another pause; longer than the last one.

"…"

He was…satisfied?

The Emperor scoffed at his own thought. There was no denying it, as much as he hated to admit it.

"Go ahead," he said, waving his hand lightly to dismiss the boy to his food. The boy's face lit up and he began to eat from the bowl of crushed grapes, being careful not to get any of his jewelry dirty. The Emperor simply stood by and watched, petting the other's head as he ate. Even though the Emperor showed the same arrogant look on the outside, on the inside he mentally smirked at his own accomplishment.

"Good boy, Firion…"