Diriel reached across and pulled Mozenrath into his lap, forcing him to lie across the legs like a cat. He reached down the sorcerers naked, freshly washed body and began to stroke him up and down the spine. He had learned much about his new toy over the last few weeks, enough to make him the most interesting play thing he'd had in centuries.

First of all, Mozenrath was decidedly cat-like both in appearance and mannerisms. To begin with his long, leans body was capable of arching and writhing in so many flexible positions that it was mind boggling. Diriel was still discovering new and amazing ways to twist the soft, warm body to his own. Another thing was how Mozenrath simply could not stand to be dirty. Though he did not lick his own skin, he did preen, or rub if he felt filthy. Of course the sorcerer only did this when he thought Diriel was not looking.

Why?

Because any display of something so submissive and feminine seemed to drive the demon wild with lust. He would take Mozenrath on the spot, forgetting that he was dealing with a mere human.

Well…not exactly a human. He had figured out that much. No human could have withstood the amount of pain Diriel forced on him the first night. No human had the capacity for as many hours of raw play as Mozenrath had been made to endure. No this beautiful, cat like creature must have had some demon or elemental blood within him to take and take and take and still not crumble.

That also meant that Diriel would have to be exceptionally careful. Nothing was more deadly than a beaten, cornered, and frightened daemon.

Ever since he'd realized this, Diriel had been very careful with his actions over the pretty Mozenrath. Oh he had not stopped his use and abuse of the body, but was careful to give enough time for recuperation afterwards. He had even managed a small band of trust in the shot time they were together. Everyday, no matter what mood Diriel was in, he would bathe, feed, and decorate the sorcerer to his hearts content. This showed the sorcerer that he would be cared for as long as he was compliant. He had even been so kind as to repair the skeletal hand he had snapped on their first night together.

Oh and how compliant Mozenrath had been. The first time had not broken him completely. It had taken eight days of non stop, brutal penetration to finally cow Mozenrath too him. It was not until the pale lily had, on sundown of the eighth day, lain in a pool of his own blood and begged Diriel to stop that the demon relented.

And now.

Mozenrath lay quietly on the daemons lap, the soft feeling of pressured, strong hands petting down his spine felt quite good. No one had ever indulged his feline tendencies before. Destain found them repulsive and uncivilized. The vulture had finally tried to break him of it one day when he was caught preening himself after their coitus. He'd worn a leash and been made to crawl about on all fours for a solid month, eating off the floor, defecating on the dunes outside.

Repulsive and uncivilized.

Well fucker you certainly knew the meaning of those words. Mozenrath mused and sudden felt as his ass arch high in the air. He groaned, the daemon had found his spot. Right above the cusp of his rear, where a tail might have been sticking out, was a little invisible circle. Any touch there made him raise up like a queen cat presenting. Mozenrath turned a bright pink and instinctually nuzzled his face into Diriel's golden thigh.

"Oh my…what an adorable little display…" Diriel cooed and began to stroke the spot again and again.

"Please…" Mozenrath whined. The oddest little sensations were creeping up and down his body. He began to rub his cheek against the warm body, his chest rumbling in an awkward purr. His hands stretched out gingerly and began to kneed at the soft weave of the carpet under them.

Diriel chuckled, but his eyes were glowing red. "You know Mozenrath… you look decidedly fuckable right now…" He growled out and bent down to Mozenrath's back, putting small nibble marks along his neck line. The sorcerer could only arch again as the extreme enticement of his feline self was played with. Diriel had yet to discover all of the little hot spots that made up his slave, but he would take exact delight in figuring them out.

The daemon chuckled softly and pushed Mozenrath down onto the floor. The sorcerer muffled his sobs into his arm and allowed himself to be positions exactly how the daemon wanted. He didn't have the strength to resist right now. Just letting it happen would be better. Mozenrath controlled his breathing and relaxed his anal muscles, preparing to let in his masters length and girth.

Diriel frowned. His toy was becoming too willing. He didn't enjoy that…no not at all. It was no fun to take what would be easily given. True Mozenrath would find no more enjoyment out of it than before, but for the sorcerer to lay so placidly went against the grain.

How could he do that? Diriel wondered silently. How could he lay down and take this again and again and not be broken. The body was broken to him but Mozenrath… some shred of the sorcerer clung on with giant claws. He would catch sometimes, as he lay atop Diriel, forcing the young wizard to look at him. Diriel could see fire…burning, hateful fire in the back of those dark eyes.

But how to quell the blaze?

He could torture him…it would be delightful to hear how loudly he could make the pale, beautiful being scream. But then again he would run the risk of over exerting the half demon…making him more dangerous to deal with.

He smiled suddenly, an idea creeping into his mind that just couldn't be resisted. With a soft hand he slowly rubbed against Mozenrath's shoulder, gripping down firmly. "Little kitten…"

Mozenrath gasped and jerked around, facing what he had thought was Diriel. But no, laying now atop him was much worse. "Des…Destain!" he cried and pulled away. The psyudo-Destain laughed, eyes glowing red and Mozenrath grimaced against it. "No…please… Diriel please." Mozenrath whimpered. "Haven't I been doing as you wished? Haven't I been obedient?"

"Yes indeed. But your beginning to ignore me little kitten. I like my victims writhing against me, enveloped in their own ceaseless, blissful agony." Diriel in Destain's form said. "So if you've become too used to me as myself…I'll just have to use other methods of making you wail."

Mozenrath gave out a prolonged whine and covered his face. He didn't know how much longer he could stand this. "What can I do to keep you from doing this?" Mozenrath asked from behind his fingers.

"You will bend and cleave to my will if I wear a thousand faces at once." The Destain thing said. "What should it matter if it is this face or that face that you must look at? Why should it matter?"

Mozenrath shook his head, unwilling to give up more information. Daemons were adept at using yourself against you.

"Why?" Diriel thundered, his great black horns sprouting from his head again, eyes blazing. "Why does this face hurt you more?" Mozenrath still did not answer, but curled more into his own body. The daemon raised his arm, bringing a hard back hand to Mozenrath's cheek.

The sorcerer screeched and held his face, the sting traveling across his lips. He looked down into his palm, a small trickle of blood leaking from where the claw had cut. "Why does this infuriate you master?" he asked mockingly with his last bit of bravado.

"How dare you...you little whelp." Diriel snarled out and wrung his fingers around Mozenrath's neck. "I'll wring the secret from your skinny little neck!" he threatened, but Mozenrath, for the first time in days, gave a little smile.

"Kill me and you'll head right back to your abyss." Mozenrath whispered and suddenly found himself thrown against a pillar, his back cracking backwards.

He earned it right for that one. By the time dawn had come around Mozenrath could no longer feel his jaw or rear. He coughed violently, a mixture of white and red gunk coming up from his raw throat and landing on the sheets. Mozenrath whimpered and rubbed his head lightly. Two small patches of hair had been ripped out from the sheer violence of it and his neck ached. He looked over his shoulder lightly. Diriel was sound asleep back in his magnificent golden fleshed form.

Mozenrath sneered and sniffed himself, making a face. He stank of sex and blood. He knew he wasn't allowed to leave the bed without Diriel's permission, less the demon wake up in a mood and not have anything to take it out on. But he just felt so dirty. And he, even as Mirage's son, was not cat like enough to bend and lick everywhere he wished to clean. Nor did he really want to.

If Diriel woke up and caught him he'd plead that he merely wished to be clean for his master. He couldn't stand this sensation any more.

Mozenrath was surprised, and a little bit proud of himself as the warm water flowed into the large tub. He wasn't allowing the daemon any more than he had to. His body was forfeit, he couldn't avoid that no matter how he tried. But his mind and spirit (however damaged) was still his own property. As long as Diriel did not figure out how to control those, he had some hope of resisting.

Mozenrath slipped into the warm, steamy water and let out a low moan. He dipped his head under and emerged, automatically feeling better. He scrubbed and scoured his body until the first few layers of skin had disappeared and rubbed his long, curly black hair till it shone in the candlelight.

A sense of relief flooded him and he sank down under the surface, closing his eyes and holding his breath. He was feeling a little better now, and opened his eyes, watching the patterns of white light dance across the inside of his large private tub. The smell of sandalwood and lavender permeated even through the water and Mozenrath could 'smell' it. It was Diriel's choice, this strange feminine mix. He preferred something like green tea and mint.

Mozenrath closed his eyes and felt his stomach churn. He suddenly felt very…odd…like he was being pulled deeper. He rose his arms to find the edge of the tub and pull himself up. But it was not there. He turned around. There was no wall of smooth porcelain behind or beneath him. Mozenrath looked above and saw a great, blazing light.

The sun.

How was that possible?

He swam towards it and breeched, looking around in what seemed to be an ocean, boundless and forever. A screech caught his attention and Mozenrath turned as a great shadows flew overhead. Before he could dive the massive claws closed around him and lifted him from the waters. Mozenrath writhed within them like a sea snake, turning twisting, the sharp talons cutting into his skin as he tried for freedom.

But the more he tried, the harder the golden eagle clutched him. Finally his back was slammed down hard against rock and the wild red eyes glared down hungrily at his body. Mozenrath screamed as the craw opened wide to swallow him whole.

A hand gripped Mozenrath from under the water and he came back from his vision, forcefully pulled above the water. Mozenrath choked and gasped for air, his vision a little fuzzy. He turned and jerked away, recognizing Diriel's figure leaning over the tub. "M…m-master." He stuttered out and Diriel chuckled softly.

"You know I don't like you to leave me in bed Mozenrath my love." Diriel said softly, his ruby eyes shimmering.

"I'm…I'm sorry master. I wished to be clean for you." Mozenrath fumbled for his excuse and pulled away from the daemon, intending to get out of the tub.

"Now now. No need to rush things." Diriel smiled and slipped into the water, warms stretched out to give Mozenrath full view of his magnificent, inhuman body. He took a bottle of soap and flicked it between two fingers casually. "Come now Mozenrath, bathe your master."

Mozenrath gulped but did not refuse, taking a wash cloth from the counter. Diriel tsked him.

"Use your own body…and please, take your time." He commanded and handed Mozenrath the bottle.

The sorcerer closed his eyes and pulled out the cork, pouring some of the thick liquid soap into his hands. Diriel wanted a show. He wanted to see Mozenrath humiliate himself again. And so, with no options left to him, Mozenrath stood there, wet hair clinging to his cheeks, water just barely covering his no-longer-private region, and soaped himself down.

When the suds had begun to bubble Diriel took Mozenrath by the hand and used Mozenrath like a human wash cloth, forcing the sorcerer to rub seductively across his body, washing every last inch till it shown as brightly as a flame. Mozenrath whimpered as a hardened erection touched his back, demanding attention. He looked back at Diriel and the daemon nodded.

Mozenrath closed his eyes and pressed his head to the creatures chest, taking the erection in his hands and stroking it reluctantly. But Diriel was not done with Mozenrath. "Down." He ordered, ignoring Mozenrath whimper. "I said down slave…"

Mozenrath gasped as he was pushed to his knees, his lip even with the hardened cock. "Please…Diriel…" he choked back and Diriel grabbed a handful of his hair and pressed him closer. Mozenrath took a deep breath and opened his mouth as best he could. He was still too sore and hoped that his master would not press in too deep.

Diriel chuckled as Mozenrath's warm tongue began to work over his shaft, his plush, accommodating lips providing excellent suckling action. "Excellent." He whispered, stroking Mozenrath's hair. He hummed and began to thrust slowly inside Mozenrath's mouth, his firm grip on the young wizards head keeping it still. Mozenrath felt his jaw lock up again and tears squeeze from the corners of his eyes. He was forced to tilt his head back, taking the massive shaft deep into his throat and breathing frantically through his nose.

When Diriel finally ejaculated into his mouth, Mozenrath knew better than to spit it out. He snapped his lips closed, avoiding the urge to vomit and swallowed the thick seed. He gave a distasteful shudder and wished desperately to be left alone.

"Well done." His master said above him and picked the sorcerer up. "I have a surprise for you my Mozenrath." He kissed Mozenrath's cheek tenderly. "A gift for performing so well tonight." He said.

"Master Diriel shouldn't have." He murmured and felt loathsome inside. I'll die before I take pleasure at the thought of your gifts like a harem girl. He mused inside his own head.

Diriel hummed and sat Mozenrath down on a stool in front of the mirror. "Now, close your eyes, and no peeking until I say so." He ordered and Mozenrath obeyed.

The touch of cold, hard metal soon slipped around his curved waist. Mozenrath's waist was almost too slim to be male. He had kept his figure, through the disorienting days where Diriel had starved him into submission, and rewarded him with over indulgent amounts of food. More metal came around his wrists and ankles, then his neck and hair. He moved, uncomfortable with the sudden weight and heard little bells jingle around him. The soft tissue of his ear lobe was grabbed and forcefully thrust through with something sharp. Mozenrath did not even yelp at the pain. It was nothing by comparison.

"Now…you may look." Diriel said with an amused tone.

Mozenrath opened his eyes and looked at himself in the full length mirror. Gold dripped from his body wherever it could hang. When he moved it sounded like birds singing outside the window. Any other being on earth would kill to have such ornaments bedeck their body. But to Mozenrath they were just shiny reminders of his imprisonment and slavery.

"Well…" said the daemon Diriel with a strange sounding voice. "Do you like them?"

"Master…is…kind!" With the sound of glass breaking Mozenrath fell to the ground, clutching himself in sobs.

Diriel began with a low, callous laugh. "Whatever is the matter my dear…my love? Do you think you'd prefer silver…bronze…" with each naming the metal on Mozenrath's skin changed. "Or perhaps just go with good old fashioned iron." Mozenrath looked down at his body, the hard, crude gleam of shackles and manacles now all over him. He shook as though having a fit and began to swing his head side to side.

"Now you see…" Diriel spoke softly, caressing back Mozenrath's hair from his pierced ears. "You are a slave here. My slave…"

"No!" Mozenrath reared back, unintentionally baring his teeth like a ferocious lion. There were canines, small, but fangs none the less, proof of his heritage. He stretched his fingers, revealing small, devilish claws from the tips. "No! I will never be a slave again!" he hissed. "I will never be under another's will! You can force my body Diriel, but you can not make my mind and soul bow to you!"

"Oh? Can't I?" Diriel laughed and advanced on Mozenrath. "Did I come here of my own accord?" he asked. "Did I speak the spell and open the portal to bring myself here? No. A human must be the one to do that. A human must open the paths ways for my kind to enter this world. I did not ask to come here…I never do."

"What do you mean by this?" Mozenrath asked, eyes wide and frightened.

"It's your fault you stupid little idiot." Diriel said finally. "You summoned me…not even fully knowing what I was…what I could do."

"But…but…but…" Mozenrath stammered.

"You brought me here…you were stupid enough to let me escape…You couldn't even resist me when I tried to give you my love…" Diriel accused in a confident voice.

"No. that's not true! I resisted you! I fought back with everything I had!" Mozenrath snarled and took a slash at Diriel. The taller daemon caught his hand and tossed him to the ground.

"But not well enough. Tell me Mozenrath…is your failure my fault…or your own? I took you…but who allowed himself to be taken? I petted you, but who allowed himself to be petted?" Diriel stroked Mozenrath's silky hair away from his face. "I gave you gifts…" he snapped his fingers and the manacles once again became gold jewelry upon Mozenrath's body. "And did you refuse it?"

"You'd have killed me if I did…" Mozenrath muttered, but his confidence was becoming weaker.

"If I kill you I go back from whence I came.' Diriel shrugged. "You and I both know that."

"This…this is not my fault…" Mozenrath slapped his hands to his bleeding and sore ears. "This is not my fault!" he yelled.

"Denial ain't a river in Egypt love." Diriel snapped cruelly. "What are you to me little Mozenrath?"

"I'm your harem girl…" Mozenrath said with sudden realization, looking down at his gold. "Your concubine…" he spoke it so softly, as if in a trance. Diriel gave a hearty laugh…so loud it was almost a roar. "Master…"

"How your ego astounds me!" the daemon slapped a hand to his forehead and looked bemused for an instant. "A harem girl…concubines…these are people with status Mozenrath. You are nothing but a skinny stripling of a wizard who defeated a pitiful old man out of his power. You have no birthright to this land or this Citadel." Diriel ran a finger under Mozenrath's cheek and made the sorcerer look at him. "Your nothing…but a whore."

"N…" Mozenrath started to protest, but in his own head he stopped. Hadn't he used his body to get what he wanted? Destain had made his apprentice bend more than once, but towards the end, as his power was growing, Mozenrath had given his body willingly. He had come to Destain at night, letting himself be fucked, and then shyly asking to know 'such and such spell,' or 'how to do this particular incantation'.

He was a whore.

Diriel knew human emotions, where was their strength and weaknesses. "There there my Mozenrath." He cooed and tucked the weeping man into his encompassing arms. "You may be a whore…but you are my whore. And I will not give your body to another. You are mine and mine alone."

Mozenrath stammered out a 'thank you' through his own sorrow. After all, what other kindness could a whore expect from his master? I'm…I'm sorry if I've been disappointing my master…" he said…and the terror of it was that he meant it. "I will try…very hard…to please you better."

Diriel nodded. "Good boy." He said. "Continue to please me…prove your loyalty…and I may marry you…" Mozenrath closed his eyes and, without thinking, pressed his lips to Diriel's. The daemon seemed shocked for a second, but soon pushed back with fervor, slipping his warm, rough tongue into Mozenrath's mouth.

It was many hours later when Diriel looked back over at his whore and spoke to him. "I have decided…that this shall be my kingdom." He arched a brow, waiting for the response he expected. But Mozenrath merely shook his head in a 'yes master'.

"It is better that it is yours." Mozenrath stated when asked. "After all…what does a whore know of kingdoms and dominions?"

Diriel's eyes narrowed in pleasure. "Very good. Of course it will need a great deal of fixing up before this diminished place can be presentable to the other lords of the Seven Deserts." He ran a golden finger across the wall of the master bedroom. "There is dirt here an inch thick."

"I could clean it…I have had to clean before…" Mozenrath offered in hopes of being useful.

"No my love." Diriel sighed. "I shall have to raise a small army of ifrits to make this place suitable."

"M…more daemons…my lord?" Mozenrath bit his lip.

"None like me Mozenrath. Two lust daemons in one kingdom…I shudder at the thought. Besides, didn't I promise to keep you as mine and mine only?"

"Yes master…forgive me." Mozenrath said and prostrated himself before Diriel.

"You are forgiven." Diriel said absentmindedly and looked out over the balcony towards the west. There was a golden topped spire climbing high into the clouds from a tower of white. "There…" he pointed far off in the distance and Mozenrath looked. "What is that city?"

"That? That is Agrabah my lord…" Mozenrath said with a small trace of disgust in the back of his mouth.

"Agrabah…yes. Seems like as good a place as any to start." Diriel did not catch the tone of his slaves voice but saw Mozenrath's questioning look. "I will reach out my hands in peace to the Seven Deserts." He explained. "I do not enjoy war…"

"A lover not a fighter." Mozenrath said and ducked, expecting reprove.

Diriel merely laughed. "True enough. Besides, I have conquered this land…and it's whore…" he smiled at Mozenrath, his great daemon fangs showing as though he would bit flesh from Mozenrath's body. "They will not question my power." He waved his hands and a small, grayish ball of light burst forth.

"An air ifrit!" Mozenrath exclaimed as he viewed the tiny, whipish creature within the glowing sphere. It had large, black eyes and a body that seemed to be made of ever moving vapors.

Diriel puffed up his chest slightly. At least this time he had someone who appreciated good magic. "Take a note to Agrabah's Sultan. Tell him that the old lord of the Black Sands is conquered and the new master here wishes a friendly audience to discuss a possible treaty between our neighboring lands. I will hold a banquet in his honor in two weeks time."

The ifrit gave a low hiss like tea boiling in the pot and wafted out the window towards the sunset.