CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 21
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Enjoy, my loyal flock...
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Cloud knew, without needing to be told, when the day of the Conglomerate Ball had arrived.
The buzzing whispers that had once followed him and his captor's walking, now became fully vocalized greetings, the supporters of Sephiroth chorusing his name after him, chanting it like a mantra.
Even the normally stoical general himself appeared different, his spine held more rigid, his chin thrust out and his head held a little higher. He almost seemed to float rather than walk, and Cloud could have sworn that the man's face held a satisfied smug look to it.
There was a hive of activity going on in the corridors, with people rushing to and fro, their arms laden with heavy trays of prepared food, bunting, banners and ribbon. Cloud's eyes followed their hurried scurrying, his heart beat catching some of the excitement that emulated from all those that were bustling about.
His mind trailed back to recall happier times in his own life, to when parties had been organized, to when excited faces and voices matched his own at the prospect of the forthcoming merriment that was to be had.
A sharp tug on his arm brought him back to the cold reality of where he was now, and with a last wistful thought of a past seemingly long gone, Cloud lowered his eyes to the floor, and followed silently behind his master.
Several hours later saw him naked and in Sephiroth's bathroom, washing the general down in the large tub that easily accommodated the two of them. His hand dipped into the warm scented water, filling the sponge he had clasped tight in his fingers, lifting it to rub away the sweat and grime from the other mans shoulders.
Sephiroth sat facing away from the boy, his arms wrapped around his drawn up knees, his long hair washed and cleaned, the ends floating and swirling along the surface of the water. The boy's administrations were doing untold good to his tensed up muscles, and he felt himself beginning to relax.
"Higher...Lower...To the left, no, your other left..."
Once they had climbed from the bath and the long silver tresses had been dried, and the magnificent body of the general re-dressed in splendid clean black leathers, Cloud dropped to his knees, placing his hands behind his head, spacing his naked legs wide apart in the stance he knew was expected of him, silently awaiting any further instructions Sephiroth might issue before leaving for the night.
Cloud longed for some time alone. He was hoping that he might be able to hack into the general's computer and get a message out to his friends. For the past few weeks he had been taking careful note when the man signed in, lifting his lowered eyes up just high enough so he could see the pattern of the generals fingers as they flew over the keys tapping in the password, waiting for such an opportunity as this. He knew it would possibly take a few attempts to get right, but he was desperate to at least try.
That hope for freedom though was to be shattered, as a small white loincloth was tossed down to him, landing on the floor in front of his opened knees. Cloud stared down at it dumbly for a few seconds, before realising what it meant.
"I...I am to come, too?"
The general quirked his brows at Clouds question. "Was there ever any mention made that you wouldn't?" he asked sardonically.
Resigning himself for a long night, Cloud slowly stood up and attached the small item of clothing around his slim hips, his fingers trembling slightly, his shaky legs trembling even more so, as he reluctantly followed the general from the room with a sinking heart.
Big blue eyes opened wide in amazement and astonishment, as Cloud's gaze took in the splendour of the hall he was led to.
Warm creamy, honey veined marble had been used for the walls and floors, and it was cool to the touch on the bottom of Clouds bare feet as he padded slowly behind the general. He marvelled to see that the centre of the floor was decorated with a huge black marble mosaic of an eight pointed star inside of a circle, set within a square casing. It seemed to be an important feature of the room, and Cloud mused for a moment over what it could be there for, before looking around again.
Gold and silver were the main colours used in the decorating of the grand room, from highly ornate polished picture frames, to elaborate and elegant chandeliers that hung down low from the ceiling, the light from which were casting a shimmering, sparking glow of rainbow colours around the walls.
The roof of the hall itself arched upwards towards the middle into a glass dome, the window panes there etched with intricate pictures of angels and stars that stood out against the rapidly darkening night sky. The other long windows in the room, which led out onto well manicured gardens, were draped with thick gold velvet curtains. Clouds fingers itched to touch the richness of the fabric, but he didn't dare pause as he continued to follow behind the tall silver haired man.
The festive bunting that Cloud had seen being ferried through the corridors was now in place, draped around the walls, hanging down from the high ceiling, the colourful decorations adding to the splendour of the room.
There were long tables set against the length of one wall, and Cloud's hungry gaze lingered on the gourmet food displayed there. Canapés and sugared confectionaries tempted the eyes to feed the stomach, while whole salmon and stuffed ducks and pigs were artfully displayed and arranged, seemingly waiting patiently, placidly, for the first of the guests to come and enjoy ripping them apart, to eat and devour their cooked flesh, while their stolen tongues, neatly sliced and diced and arranged as delicacies on another server, made no sound of protest.
Sephiroth led the way to the furthest end of the hall, towards a raised platform where several large, thickly cushioned, throne like chairs had been positioned. Selecting one situated near to the middle, he gestured for Cloud to take his place at his side, pointing to the floor.
Knowing the stares of the other people that were gathering and milling about in the room were upon him, Cloud did so, kneeling down like an obedient pet beside the generals seat, and adopting the resting stance of opened knees, clasped hands behind the head, and lowered eyes. To add insult to his indignity, Sephiroth reached a gloved hand down towards him, and ruffled his blond hair in a parody of affection.
Cloud wanted to act like the dog he was being treated as. He wanted to snap at the hand that touched him, to bite at the fingers that threaded through his hair. But he didn't. Instead he just bit his lower lip and clenched his jaw, staring unseeingly at the floor, his vision blurred by red anger and humiliation.
The general, if aware of how Cloud felt, seemed not to care that the boy's cheeks had suffused with colour, that his sad face hung lower so as to cover his shamed eyes. Sephiroth, contented with his lot, simply shuffled himself into his chair more comfortably and crossed one long lean leg over the other, the toe of his lifted, booted foot lazily idling up and down his slave's naked chest.
Cloud knew better than to pull away from the man's administrations. He knew he had to suffer and endure in degraded silence the indignity and public humiliation of being used as nothing more than a 'thing' for the mans amusement. To do otherwise, to try and fight or resist in any way, would only incur the wrath of his fiery tempered captor.
And so he stayed there as if frozen in stone as the leather clad foot traced its way up and down his body, as the shod toecap deliberately nudged against his nipples, pushing slightly harder against the rosy nubs, lingering and causing them to harden and protrude against Clouds will.
That the embarrassing act was being done in front of others seemed not to matter one iota to Sephiroth, who appeared only too happy at seeing his prisoner being displayed almost naked and quietly submissive, and he looked around with contentment at the lustful leers from others in the room as they admired his blond captive. The boy was indeed a beauty. And he belonged to only one man. Him.
Leaning back in the soft cushions of his seat the general let his gaze drift about, taking in the smart black linen and gold buttoned uniforms of the recruits that were attending. He knew his own presence was attracting a lot of attention from them, and he was aware that the muted conversations that they held under cover of the softly playing background music revolved around him. And he couldn't stop a small smile of smug satisfaction from forming on his lips.
A body came and bounced into the empty chair on the other side of Cloud, a pair of strong hands reaching down to the sides of the seat, lifting and pulling it sideways noisily, dragging it closer towards where Sephiroth sat. Cloud closed his knees a little, afraid he was going to get crushed. He stopped moving when he felt the generals fingers tighten in his hair.
"Zack, must you sit so bloody close? You're squashing the boy."
"I'm nowhere near him," the dark haired man countered, looking down to check that Cloud did have enough room. Although a bit cramped, Zack reasoned that there was still plenty of space for the captive to present himself comfortably. "Anyway, I have to shufftie up closer to you, because you know as well as I do that once the music kicks off in here, we'll be hard pressed to hear one another over the racket." Zack flashed his winning smile, knowing Sephiroth wouldn't argue with his logic.
Sure enough, Zack's prediction about the loudness of the music proved true. Within less than an hour the hall had filled to overflowing, the large gold draped windows had been flung open to allow the cool evening breeze in, and the heavy, thumping musical tune of a military tattoo was filling the room, the deep loud notes that were being played seemingly bouncing and echoing off the walls in an ear busting composition.
As the night drew on, Cloud watched discreetly from lowered hungry eyes as people stood around him, or walked by him, holding plates full of delectable food and sipping chilled drinks from crystal goblets. His stomach growled in protest that it had not been fed since that morning. But the sound of his churning insides were drowned out and swallowed up by the ongoing tunes that were being played by the band, and the ever constant chatter and bursts of laughter from the guests that filled the room.
He fidgeted now and again, his arm muscles aching from being held in position behind his head, his knees sore and tender from being rested on for so long. He yearned to stand up straight and stretch his spine out, to reach his hands up to the ceiling and flex his fingers until the joints cracked. He was tempted to ask his master for permission to get up and be excused a bathroom visit. But he recalled what happened the last time he had asked for that privilege in a room full of people. The general had simply ordered him to relieve himself in the empty glass on his desk, and had then proceeded to force Cloud to drink his own urine.
Cloud shuddered involuntary at the memory, and kept quiet. He would rather suffer in silence, than ever be subjected to that mortifying humiliation again.
He closed his mind to the burning pain in his limbs and closed his eyes to the room he was in, thinking that if he didn't see the food, then his stomach would stop making such noisy demands to be fed.
He didn't realize that his lower body was moving in time to the loud music, didn't notice that his slim hips were shifting forwards and backwards minutely, swishing and swaying side to side, the catchy notes directing his unconscious dance.
And he also failed to notice the pair of hungry green eyes that followed his body's gentle motions with avid interest. But Sephiroth's hunger wasn't for food. As he sat and watched the young boy silently, the general's body was fervently craving... something else.