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Chapter 12

Reflections

He had drifted off again. The smell of food woke him, his empty stomach responding by clenching painfully in a demand that even drowned out the ache in his shoulder. The kind but somewhat whiny voice only registered after his eyes had opened to try to find the source of the delicious aroma. His eyes focused slowly as he looked eagerly, and found not the food but the timid boy, young man really. The man was looming over him, too close, and he tried and failed to move away.

"No, let me help. Come on, now, let's sit you up."

He shook his head feebly, not in denial but in an effort to clear his mind. During his moment of confusion, hands grabbed and dragged despite his efforts to push away the body that was now practically pressed to his. He panicked, but the man moved away quickly, leaving Toshiro propped up against the headboard of the bed, a stack of pillows behind him. Trying to calm his nerves, slow his breaths, he watched the young man suspiciously.

"Please don't be nervous. I'm a healer. Well, an apprentice, anyway. I'm just here to help you get better. Anything you need, just tell me."

At least the adrenaline helped clear his mind for a moment. He remembered that the young man arrived with the healer. There was no advantage, then, to asking this one for help, either. By being friendly he may earn sympathy, information, even favors that could lead to an escape. But the risk was too great to take with a man he did not know. What he had seen of the prince told him that his owner was cautious, intelligent, and ruthless. Trying to escape or even gather information could ruin any chance he had of being anything but a body chained to a bed for the rest of his miserable life.

As he fought the haze inside his head to think this through, the young man had rolled a table to the side of the bed. He tried to relax, watching as the stranger placed a tray over his legs. Then the man again sat on the bed, transferring items from the table to the tray. His eyes locked on the steaming bowl and his stomach growled loudly as his hands started to reach for the source of the delightful aroma, so very close.

"Now, now, that's not a good idea. Just wait a second, I'll help."

He was irritated at the delay, at his hands being pushed back down. Hunger was all he knew, and he was sure that he could hold a spoon if he focused. He hadn't eaten since the meal where he had met Gin for the first time, and then had barely touched his food. And it was one more humiliation, sitting passive and being hand fed. The young man flinched, catching the heat of Toshiro's glare. But the first touch of rich stew on his tongue erased all annoyance, all thoughts of pride, and his eyes closed to just savor the moment that his body stopped clenching as the promise of sustenance was delivered.

"That's better. Just take it slow, now, the food isn't going anywhere. We don't want you to eat too fast, you might get sick."

Ugh, he was being treated like a kid, or a doddering old man. And it was deserved. Like a pathetic fledgling in the nest, he leaned in with mouth open, begging each time that spoon brought him another welcome step closer to relief. The stew was thick with fine grain, tender meat cut into thin shreds, and vegetables overcooked he assumed on purpose to make them soft and easy to swallow. He couldn't care less about the mushy vegetables; every bite was heaven, so pleasing that he didn't even complain about the string of encouragements coming from his new caretaker.

Before he knew it, his stomach was warm and content, the bowl empty, and a glass of cool water was held to his lips. He eyed the young man as he drank, thoughts already becoming hard to hold onto as his body sank back into lethargy. It would be easy to think of the youth as a boy, but he was likely older than Toshiro, only a bit taller, lightly built and rather soft looking. Big eyes and shaggy hair added to the innocent, harmless look, along with the timidity in his actions and speech. He was rather surprised to find such a man here, where he had heard all weak children were eliminated.

"Oh, I'm Hanataro, by the way. I'm the healer's apprentice. Oh, I already said that, didn't I? What's your name?"

His chin and lips were wiped for him, that's how useless he was. Despite the hopeful way the man tried to make conversation, the friendliness he radiated as he told Toshiro his name and asked eagerly to know his in return, Toshiro kept his mouth shut, well, when it was not hanging open begging like a dog for a treat. Perhaps he could manage polite conversation with this Hanataro later. But he could not be sure the drugs would not make him say or ask something indiscreet. More importantly, he did not know how his owner would regard anything like companionship.

"If you don't want to tell me, that's okay. Maybe when you're feeling better. Do you like tea? Maybe some juice? Oh, but Unohana wants you to drink more water so I guess I should just stick with that."

Silently, he observed the youth's attempts to converse, amused by the growing awkwardness, and let himself fade into slumber propped on the pillows.

ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo

It would have been ideal if he'd had the entire day free to dedicate to his new project. But, such was his life and it would only get harder from here on out to find any free time. He wondered briefly how his father managed. The king had been through two wives and had six mistresses. Admittedly, this was his first, a rather unique situation, and still in the lovely blush of a new dawn. Perhaps in time he would not find himself distracted every five minutes with highly inappropriate thoughts.

And there, sleeping half upright on a pile of pillows, was inappropriate thought personified. Mmm, what would it be like to walk through that door and be greeted by turquoise eyes that lit up with desire at the sight of him?

The healer's mousy, little apprentice jumped up from a chair on the far side of the room, dropping a heavy book with a thud. He smiled as the young man stumbled through his title and a clumsy bow. Hanataro was perfect for the job. Now he just had to convince the healer to let him go permanently. True, he could simply order it. But he should not have to. Force or persuasion, there were advantages to each.

"Hanataro, how is Toshiro?"

"Toshiro, highness? Oh, is that his name?"

He raised a brow, making the timid man shiver and lock his eyes on the floor. The terror was amusing, but it would get old quickly. He'd have to tone it down quite a bit. Or, he could just ignore it and the kid would either grow a spine or disappear into the shadows every time he came into the room. Yeah, the second option sounded good.

"Hanataro," he spoke slowly, deliberately, "how is Toshiro?"

"Oh, uh, h-he ate lunch. I m-made him wake up for water an hour ago."

"Good. And he's just slept?"

"Yes, highness."

There was a small desk near Hanataro, and the young man backed away a few steps as he walked over and took out supplies. He wrote a short note and offered it to the man. After three long seconds, he lost his patience waiting for any reaction.

"You enjoy reading. Take this. It gives you access to the royal library whenever you would like to use it. You are dismissed until dinner."

Tuning out the sputtering thanks was easy. He was done with the big puppy, and would pick him up by the scruff and toss him out in the hall if he had to. He stripped off his jacket, tossing it over the chair Hanataro had been sitting in and was still standing by, not showing his amusement when the stuttering ended in a high squeak. By the time he was sitting on the edge of the bed taking off his shoes, the healer's boy had scrambled out into the hallway. It was a good thing his hands were low when he heard the hiss of quiet laughter. By the time he had straightened and turned, he had stilled the impulse to strike whatever had managed to surprise him.

The smile was faint, barely a curve to the corners of that small, delectable mouth. Lovely, and those eyes, works of art flashing bright color through dark lashes. But what really went straight to his crotch was the laugh, not the sound itself but the meaning behind it. He recalled the way Toshiro had responded to the healer, his pride and defiance, and it was possible that his little treasure even felt defensive of his master. If it was not just drugged confusion, there had been a perceptive intelligence behind Toshiro's mirth, the way he picked up on the dynamics between prince, healer, and servant. And Toshiro had not spoken to his new servant, not grilled him for information, apparently not even told the man his name. Ichimaru had chosen very well indeed.

Too soon, he reminded himself firmly, it was far too soon to have earned or to give any trust at all. The boy didn't even have full control of his senses. All the actions that he had admired could point in another direction, that his birthday present was a very well-trained spy. Still, even that was an entertaining possibility, to win the spy over, steal his loyalty.

Leaning far over to be face-to-face with his pet, his hand coming up to cup a rounded cheek, his smile grew as he watched the other's smile fade. There was a flash of fear and defiance, welcome in their sincerity. Had there been no hesitation, no resistance then Ichigo would have known without doubt that the gift was not genuine.

Soon the drugs keeping his pet weak and compliant would fade. There was no point regretting the boy's current state, and it served the purpose quite well. But he found himself wishing things had been different, that Toshiro had come to him unmarred by the physical pain of the brand, alert and in full control of his thoughts and actions. Well, there would be plenty of time to get to know the mind. For now, the body was too tempting to resist any longer.

The fear in turquoise eyes had been locked away, the face inches away from his own becoming still and guarded. He let his fingers drift across the smooth cheek before settling again to lightly frame one side of the young man's face.

"I regret that you were hurt today, pet. Are you in pain?"

Familiar confusion took over Toshiro's expression as he slowly shook his head.

"Do you need anything, water, bathroom?"

The cheek started to move against his hand again, then paused.

"Water." Added as an afterthought, with a hint of a blush, "Please . . . master."

He leaned in swiftly, just a quick kiss, a light grab of the bottom lip between his own, and then he was moving away before Toshiro had a chance to pull back. He ignored the man on the bed, letting him think and decide how he was going to try to respond to whatever Ichigo might do. What a position to be in. The prince almost envied the slave, for while it must be terrifying, surely there was an incomparable thrill involved with being innocent and completely at another's mercy.

When he returned to the bed, he set the water on the nightstand. Next to it, he placed a clear glass bottle of pale amber liquid. The boy watched, distant and nonreactive. As he casually stripped off socks and pants, bare now except for boxers, he held back a chuckle as the boy's eyes widened with understanding. He smirked a bit at the way the panicked eyes turned from the nightstand, to his body, and back again. Then, a delicious combination of a gasp and a whimper as he pulled a thick cord at the side of the bed, parting the fabric at the top of the bed's canopy to reveal the clear mirrors running the entire length of the bed.

Ichigo had no intention of taking the boy tonight, not while he was still too heavily drugged to make an honest choice. But letting him get the wrong idea, then delivering more unconditional pleasure, it would all serve to make his pet frantic for the very thing he now feared. As he sat on the edge of the bed, he watched the pale throat convulsively swallowing as the boy tried to control his reaction. He took the water glass, scooting quickly closer. Toshiro fumbled, trying to push away and failing as his arms were still too weak to move his body efficiently. His arm pushed between the lithe waist and the pillows, pulling the boy smoothly to sit half on the pillows, half on his hip. His large hand easily spanned the small chest, a bit of pressure to lean the boy back against his chest despite the tired struggling.

It took a minute for Toshiro to stop squirming, though he still held himself tense and leaned against the weight of Ichigo's hand. His free hand brought the water glass up, and he felt the boy relax just a little as he placed the glass to lips stretched tight over clenched teeth. He waited, neither of them saying a word. When the boy relaxed a little more, he tilted the glass steadily, letting him drink the entire glass with barely a pause. Thirst had obviously not been a lie or a stalling tactic, and the white head rested against his shoulder with a content sigh, for a moment forgetting to fight.

An opportunity not to be passed over, he leaned his head forward and ran his tongue from the collar of the cream robe, halfway up the long neck before it jerked away and feeble struggles resumed. He chuckled as he held the wiggling form and carefully moved the glass back to the nightstand. His now empty hand stroked white hair.

"Shh, quiet now, darling pet. Have I done anything to hurt you?"

One harsh breath, air hissing as the youth stopped struggling, still rigid. A deeper breath, held and let out with the release of clenched muscles. He knew that his Toshiro had just talked himself into another surrender. What motivations drove the boy, he would very much like to know. Was it simply a need to survive? Was he following instructions from Gin, willingly or no? Was it curiosity, a step toward the lust he knew lay just below the surface? A combination of all that and more, most likely. He could not control his pet's every thought, but he could come close. Reward this surrender, and the next time the youth faces the same choice, he will give in that much more easily, and with the goal and expectation of pleasure that much more prominent.

Circling gently with the hand across the boy's chest, he leaned in again and pressed soft kisses where he had recently licked. The weakened muscles clenched again, relaxed again, and he smiled as the boy closed his eyes and let his head fall back. It could be difficult to remember that this was all new, everything a challenge to the senses. So he kept the kisses light, introducing gentle swirls of the tongue. His fingers teased through fabric until one small pebble began to harden in response, circling, easy and at least something Toshiro had felt before and could respond to without a fight.

He breathed across damp skin, watching smaller bumps rise as the boy shivered. He was not angry with his pet for resisting. Quite the opposite.

"Have I done anything that did not please you, my sweet Toshiro?"

He did not expect an answer, but was thrilled with the whispered, "No, master."

Pushing a couple of the pillows aside, he twisted and raised himself on one knee, lifting and lowering the delicate body to lie on its back, torso slightly inclined. His other knee came to rest on the opposite side of slim thighs, and he paused, crouched over the delicious little morsel for the first time, hand already resuming soothing strokes through silk hair.

Fear had returned to those wide, lovely eyes, and his lover was frozen in place. But it was not only fear. He was certain that what he fleetingly saw was an excitement, a barely restrained eagerness. His pet was not quite ready to be taken, but already the thought had occurred to him and not been completely rejected. Ichigo smiled gently and then slowly lowered his head. He continued petting while he worked the other side of the white neck, so pale that even these gentle kisses left pink marks that made him long to bite at tender flesh. Perhaps, just a little . . .

"Hnn," a tiny moan trapped in the throat he was sucking on. He shifted lower, creating another bruise where he felt the quickening pulse most strongly. "Ahhh!" Much better.

Shifting up to warmly kiss the clear forehead above eyes hiding their emotion once more, he let his hand leave the white locks, trail down neck, breastbone, to undo the tie on the robe. He met those remarkable eyes steadily.

"Let yourself feel, Toshiro. Let me guide you, and I will only seek to please you, my pet. There is so much you have yet to know; shall I teach you something new? A new pleasure we can share?"

His pet could draw no other conclusion than that Ichigo intended to fuck him, and he knew the boy would have some knowledge of just what that entailed. It would not be all pleasure, and it would be shameful to this creature so filled with reservation and inhibition, so unaware of his potential. Such a strange culture his pet must come from, to not understand something as basic as lust and its uses. So, he waited patiently for his pet to deal with a very big decision, one hand gently caressing the newly exposed stomach, lips drifting from forehead to temple to cheek. Still no response from the trembling beauty other than short, quick breaths, faint tremors, and tightly shut eyes.

Then, a moan not held back as his tongue traced down the shell of one dainty ear, and a most unexpected answer. The gorgeous face turned, soft lips closed on his cheek. He turned smoothly, catching those lips with his own briefly. A true, deep kiss would wait, an experience he wished to share with a clear-headed and willing lover. It was hard to resist, the beauty of that sweet gesture almost enough to break his will.

Lifting his lips away, he gave his widest smile and enjoyed the way his pet's stunning eyes brightened in response. Then that smile was moving, down the bruised neck to untasted territory, straight shoulders over those luscious collarbones, long overdue for nibbling and marking. By the time he had enough and moved lower, the boy was breathing heavily with scattered sighs and quiet moans.

Pausing just long enough for his pet to be aware of a change, he brought his hand down along the boy's left side with teasing feather touches. With the same gentleness, his tongue flicked around and then across the small, pink nipple on the opposite side. The svelte body shook in response, and a true, deep moan sounded, none of that quiet, timid panting. He smiled again, utterly beside himself with enjoyment as he rolled and sucked one precious nub after the other to win as many sounds of lust as he could from the innocent minx beneath him.

Speaking of lust, he needed to move on. The drugs and inexperience meant a short stamina for pleasure, and the young man was already straining. He wanted to take time to explore the dips between prominent ribs, to decorate the flat stomach with purple and red, to grip fine hipbones firmly between his teeth. But he had years to indulge such desires, and a goal to accomplish.

Toshiro's face was sin, glazed eyes opening when stimulation stopped, cheeks flushed, forehead sweating, mouth open to let short cries escape between gulped breaths. He licked his lips in anticipation, soaking in the view while he waited for his treasure to regain a little awareness.

"I want you to do something for me, pet." That woke the boy up, his eyes widening in alarm. He leaned in and over, tilting his head to speak into the boy's ear without blocking the view.

"Look up, my sweet pet. Watch as we sink into pleasure. Look up to Heaven, and let me show you how magnificent you are, darling Toshiro."

The long lashes fell and rose, then eyes turned obediently, slowly blinking again in an effort to focus. He watched the already reddened face grow darker, a steady trembling overtaking the thin frame as the boy truly looked at the delicious image that Ichigo so enjoyed. He grinned and moved, baring the marked neck and chest, the weeping and eager erection to the reflected eyes and hearing a gasp and a whimper, just as when he had first unveiled the mirror.

Distracted, his lover did not even resist when he moved down and parted the thin but muscled legs, running his hands up alabaster thighs as he made himself comfortable lower on the bed. When another gasp sounded from above and the legs made a weak attempt to close, he followed his hand with his tongue, up the right thigh.

Again, he had to center himself, pushing aside the desire to tease and recognizing that he had already pushed his partner almost too far. The boy shook and cried out as his flattened tongue dragged firmly over tightened sac and up the damp shaft. He sighed and pulled back for a moment to savor this first taste, and the reaction which would never again be quite so conflicted, so torn between confused shame and wanton desire.

"Look up, Toshiro."

The angle of the pillows made it easy for him to see the boy, and he waited until those eyes opened, clouded with pleasure and a riot of other emotions that would soon be forgotten as pleasure turned to ecstasy. His hands slid underneath thighs, winding around to hold and caress hips, the white legs now held quite wide, knees raised.

"Obey me, pet. Keep your eyes open. And tell me, do you want me to continue?"

Between his hands, hips shifted with need and with a faint groan his pet surrendered again, eyes fixing on the mirror image of debauchery laid out on wine-colored satin.

"Yes," a breathy sigh. "Please, master."

He kissed the wet, reddened tip before him and breathed across it as the small hips flexed again.

"So very good, sweet pet. Remember, keep your eyes open for me."

What could only be called a scream graced his ears as he suddenly took the hard length fully in his mouth, barely tightening for fear of making this end before it even began. A few quick, artless bobs of his head just to introduce his pet to the immense and primal pleasure men were built for, and he paused to hold and massage. As he moved slowly, letting his tongue press and caress on the way back up, he looked to see his pet struggling to obey, eyes seeking the mirror but clenching repeatedly shut between moments of control.

Thin hips in his hands tried to move, to thrust. The lanky torso twisted weakly and legs tightened and fell, tightened and fell away like butterfly wings. And then, as he teased with quick flicks of tongue, pushing in the slit and then suckling to make the musical voice fall into harsh whines and gasps, two small hands managed to find their way into his hair. The fine fingers tried to grasp, scratching his scalp lightly, as the chains brushed down against the sides of his face.

Oh, delightful! He would even forgive his pet for closing his eyes, the swan neck stretched back and taut. He moved to end it, using his arms to lift, to give his weakened pet the blissful feeling of participation, of penetration. Allowing, guiding the head to hit the back of his throat, and again as his hair was nearly yanked out by abruptly strong hands, he felt his lover's climax so close, heard the desperation in high shouts. Finally, he opened his throat and pushed all the way down to fine, white hairs.

"AHHH! Fuck! AH! God Da . . . damn! Mas . . . master . . . GAHHH!"

A string of profanities broke the illusion that this was a tender, innocent child as the pale body convulsed in his grasp. When he could not hold back a chuckle, the added sensation of his clenching throat was too much for the cursing beauty to take. He moved for his pet, rubbing the heaving sides soothingly as he swallowed and sucked until the struggling muscles went lax and the grunting shouts faded to satisfied pants. As soon as he released the spent cock, he made sure this moment made an impact.

"Now, look up." He moved to the side, leaving that lovely, licentious body fully exposed with legs open, hands fallen idle by panting ribs, sweaty, bruised skin glowing. "Open those marvelous eyes, Toshiro."

When his treasure obeyed, turquoise meeting reflected turquoise, there was a sharp intake of breath. His reward, the most sensual and breathtaking moan he had ever heard, filled with longing, shame, and just a hint of despair that he would have the honor of transforming into gratification and pride. He lifted the limp hand nearest to him, bringing it to his lips to kiss palm, fingers, wrist above and below the silver band. He turned his eyes to the mirror, too, watching and hoping that his precious treasure learned from this.

"So beautiful, sweetheart. So much power, the gods themselves would lay this world at your feet."

Tired eyes blinked in confusion, disbelief as they looked toward his own reflection. It may not be true quite yet. It may never be true if the boy was not as intelligent or fierce as he suspected. Time and careful training would tell if this jewel would be as strong as diamond, worthy of the praise he gave.

Pulling the edges of the robe that still hung open around his pet closed, he gathered the exhausted young man, careful of the wounded arm, the raw brand. He did not pull the sheet up, the day and the activity making the room quite warm enough. His chin rested in wild, white hair, arm draped over and holding, aching erection pressed close against buttock and hip, reinforcing the idea of pleasure withheld.

Toshiro was still, compliant, likely expecting him to go much farther, to take his virginity. He would need to leave in less than an hour, no time for sleep. But he closed his eyes and calmed his breathing, letting his pet relax and realize that nothing more was going to happen to him. Only once he was certain Toshiro was soundly sleeping did he open his eyes again to watch him breathe, gaze on the marks on the long neck, and eventually move away, pull the sheet up over his treasure, and slide out of bed to return to his duties, already counting the minutes until he could return.