Sesshoumaru's Slave

II: The Bath
10,400+ words [posted 11/26/10]

Sage watches the servant's well hidden surprise at Master's orders. He's used to being carried about as much as he's used to long, forced marches. If Doki could make noise, he'd probably purr, he thinks, as his fur accepts the adjusting that is done in the lifting and standing and holding, without ever losing contact with Master's fur. A bath. That will be nice. The hot water will hurt his back at first, but it will also help it heal faster, he knows. And hot water itself...he knows it will be hot because Master has said he is bathing, too, and that he will bathe Sage and no Master likes cold water unless it is a hot day.

The guard expresses respectful obedience and sets off to inform his favored bathing servant. Sesshoumaru closes the door and turns Sage in his arms, his fur moving away from his bare back, and sees lash marks, old and new, other scars. He snarls softly, the mistreatment of the bastard that rightly belongs to him--and to his father. But apparently no others knew this secret until he has discovered it now, with Jaken's help. He goes to the door again, tells the remaining servant that healing ointments will also be needed and disinfecting soaps. His voice is calm but gruff to his ears. At last he returns to his chair. "Do masters fuck that which is still filthy and wounded?" he asks, a foolish question that exposes him more than he would like. Again he speaks before he thinks with this one. Ah well, his power is assured no matter what he says or does, he reminds himself.

"Yes, Master," he says, ducking his head in as much of a bow as he can while Master is holding him. "Some...some prefer their slaves that way." He pauses. "Not so much filthy, but there are some." He shivers again, Doki clinging to Master's fur. He is very comfortable, actually. This room is warm, Master's hands are gentle and his fur...and Doki...

He nods with a sound of derision. "I like myself and my possessions to be clean. And in good enough health to use as I wish." He enjoys a good beating, spanking, bondage, truth be told--to hear the cries of his playthings, to use them well and exhaust himself in the effort. But not like this. "Do you...hurt, Sage?"

His dark brows knit together as he tries to process the question. "Hurt...how Master?"

"Do these wounds, your neck, your fur -- do you ache?" Why is he asking a slave if he is in pain? This is absurd. "The bath will soothe you," he quickly continues. "And then we will see how skilled you are as a slave, Sage."

"Oh, yes. They hurt Master. They were meant to." He smiles, though. "Yes, hot water will hurt first, but I always heal better if I can wash my ouches in hot water." As for the skill part, he flushes and chews his bottom lip, looking down at his hands, still smiling. "I hope Master will be well pleased with me," he says.

Sesshoumaru fights back a smile. Damn the boy is tempting: sweet, delicious and inu-fragrant despite his status and his wounds and poor cleaning. At least he seems in good health overall. He wonders if the boy has healing abilities like his father. Not to heal wounds, obviously, but to keep infection at bay. Not being borne of his most poisonous and lovely mother, the boy will not have toxic defenses such as he has. "While we wait for the bath, boy, you may show me some of your talent." He slides the boy to the floor on his knees, and opens his hakama. His cock is not as hard as it was when he was kissing the boy, but it is not soft either.

Sage kneels up obligingly, interested in seeing what he'd already felt, and his eyes widen appreciatively. "It's beautiful," he breathes, something he would have never dared voice to any other Master. Doki thrashes behind him, apart from the other fur and not happy about it, but Sage only has eyes for the cock in front of him. He begins with licking...tasting because the cock isn't all hard yet and it gives him a chance to get to know Master's cock before he gets down to the business of a proper blowjob. His hands rest on his thighs; he's been taught to only use his mouth and never his hands for this sort of thing.

Sesshoumaru swells, mind and cock, at the praise. He does love being told he's beautiful, though rarely would he let someone so easily rouse him so. He does love control. Yet, his fur loves sensation more than control and wraps the boy and pulls him in.

Sage makes a contented sound as the pretty youkai cock swells up under his mouth and Master's fur wraps around him again. He's seen and taken all kinds of cocks, including inu cocks but this...ohhh and the way the skin is so smooth, and the way the top is pointed and blunt and how it swells out in the middle then narrows again before it gets to the base. He wonders if it knots.

Sesshoumaru's wayward fur suddenly can't stay away from the wounds on the boy's back, gently hovering over them, protectively, or something. It doesn't disturb him much, though he notes the strangeness even as he basks in the warm, wet attention. Small mouth, nimble though...and curious. "You smell as though you're enjoying it," he says, encouraging the boy with a hand in his short, black hair.

He shivers at the touching...barely there touching on his lash marks. His own fur doesn't bother them overly much so he's not surprised to find Master's fur is the same. "I am," he says as soon as his mouth is free. "I like to taste things," he explains. "And I want to please you," he says shyly, pushing his head up into the hand in his hair.

"Why?" he asks, enjoying the sound of that small voice. He reaches down to place the boy's hand on his cock. The nails need cleaning, but soon enough. He'll endure the dirt for now, ignore it as best he can, because the touch is so good. There is urgency or he'd already have been repulsed by how necessarily antithetical Sage's condition is to his own personal grooming habits.

Sage takes his mouth off Master's cock when his hand is placed on it as he strokes the slippery fluid with his hand. "Why? I don't know why I like tasting things so much. I like licking things...being licked. And..." he runs out of words, stroking carefully.

"I am glad you find pleasure...in life," he says, enthusiastically sincere, enjoying the feel of that curious hand on his cock. He is delightfully hard and his hand returns to stroking the surprisingly soft head. The guard knocks, and he is hesitant to rise, for just a moment. But then, the pleasures of the bath need not be delayed. A nice clean slave with an enjoyment of "tasting things" will make the evening pleasant and perhaps even memorable.

He not only hears the knock but feels Master's slightly aborted attempt to rise, and without being told or asked he removes his hand and sits back on his heels, hands on his thighs, head bowed.

That already he cannot imagine Sage attempting to run away he knows immediately is a bad sign. He will keep aware, though he will also enjoy. He takes the boy into his arms again, fur wrapping and twining with Sage's instantly, and it is far too much because he does not wish the guards to see his injuries and mock them -- even silently. It is what he wishes to do, so he does it; that is all anyone need see or know. "Come," he tells Sage, even as he is already in his arms, and he opens his door and takes him to the bathing chambers below. His servant will no doubt have robes and towels and all they need, though he will need to demand a clean, appropriate robe for his small slave, too.

"Yes, Master," he says obediently, even as he's lifted into Master's arms. Even as Master's fur wraps around him. He feels the guard's eyes on him even though he keeps his face and eyes down. He'll have to settle into his place in the household soon enough. Aside from figuring out what a new Master wanted, figuring out his status in a new household was the most difficult part of a new sale.

"Do you wish to know where the baths are, Sage? You may ask questions, if you wish. I will tell you if I have had enough of them." He is a fool, showing off his castle to this little slave, this brother who does not know he is a brother, this bought-and-sold property that enjoys tasting and has far too many scars on his back for one so young. A flare of anger rises in him at his father, the daiyoukai who spreads his seed too easily. He keeps the scent down, away from Sage who will no doubt think it is aimed somehow at him and will reflect it back in his own scent. He prefers him curious, eager, sweet.

"I...it...," he mumbles a little into his chest. "Yes, Master. I..." he swallows. "It is a big castle," he offers. He can tell...the walls echo around him, and there are lots of servants and guards in just this hall. "Where will I live, Master?" Sometimes he was kept closer to the Master, and sometimes he was bedded down with the other slaves.

Sesshoumaru stops walking a moment. Freezes is the more honest term, he admits reluctantly to himself. Where will Sage live? He has no idea. In his bed. His chambers. A cage at the foot of his bed. In slave quarters. He grinds his teeth. Damn him for telling the boy to ask questions. "I have not yet decided," he decides to say. "That depends on your behavior...your value." More truthfully? Right now his fur is not only telling him but insisting the boy will stay very, very near. He descends the stone stairs to the lower floor where the bath chambers rest atop underground hot springs. He smells the familiar scent of the minerals in the water and his preferred soaps.

"Yes, Master," he says. His nose sniffs, and he can feel the dampness. "Ohhh...you are built near a hot springs," he says. He likes hot springs...they smell so good, the water is mineral-rich and constant hot water is nothing to sneeze at. "I...I will behave," he says. He doesn't have a collar and is double branded. He has to stay close to Master, as much as he can so that his owned status is not in question, for now anyway.

"If you could choose only one," he says, entering the chambers where his familiar bathing servant--pretty in a boyish way and deceptively strong and capable for her size--sits on her heels, head bowed, waiting. "A collar or a bed to sleep in this night, which would you choose?"

He thinks about that. He's slept plenty of nights outside beds. His hand touches his bare neck as he considers the question. The bathing chamber is beautiful, too. The bath is huge and steaming and the walls are opulent and the floor and...the servant is not a slave. "I don't know Master," he says honestly.

Sesshoumaru enjoys the honesty and isn't sure himself which is more important to him at the moment. "Midori," he says, commanding the servant to rise and serve. "I have acquired a slave. I will bathe him myself, though you may wash my hair as usual. First, though, find him a suitable robe in which to return to my chambers, and prepare ointment and soaps to treat these cuts and bruises, and perhaps to reduce the swelling and irritation at his neck and throat. As you can see, the slaver was clumsy with his property. We will not be so with mine, will we, Midori?" He trusts this one. He fucks her occasionally, too, though right now that is far from his thoughts.

Midori bows properly. "Of course, my Lord," she says. She is minor nobility and very happy with her place in Lord Sesshoumaru's service. She takes in the little slave with an experienced eye. Child, hanyou...inuhanyou by the smell of him. "If you will excuse me, my Lord, I will see to your first requests right away, then return to wash your hair, as you wish." She smiles at the little slave. "Indeed, my Lord. You care well for those in your service."

Sage's eyes widen a little, and he hides his eyes afterwards. He's very good at sussing out what grade a servant is and this is a very high grade servant. A robe? Medicines? He takes a breath and does his best to settle his floofed fur. He has to do better than this.

Sesshoumaru nods. "Yes, thank you, Midori." He puts Sage down and points at the vast tub. "The closer end is shallower. The far end allows me to submerge entirely. I like the water hot, and it will likely cause you pain at first. You may stand in the shallowest end until you are used to the temperature, then we will wash that ruined back of yours." He slips neatly out of garments he would usually have a servant remove and hang for him. But he is no infant needing tending to every moment. He stands naked before Sage and stretches, then strides gracefully to the tub and walks in without hesitation. The water is neither overly scented nor oiled, just as he likes it. He hopes it will not burn Sage, for he knows the slave will not withdraw, even if it does. He is prepared to take him out of the water at once if need be. He holds out a hand and beckons. "Come, Sage."

The servant leaves. And he realizes that he's naked for the first time. He knew that Master had taken his clothes off but he hadn't realized how naked he was, not really. Master is so beautiful is his next noticing as Master tells him what he is to do. He steps into the shallow end and walks towards Master's hand without hesitation. It's hot. So hot. His skin reddens at once, but he doesn't stop walking despite how hot it is on his skin.

Sesshoumaru watches, smells, notes the obedience, the calm, the way his pale skin flushes. But he can also suddenly smell what he can only call pride. Not pridefulness or arrogance--he knows that scent well and exudes it frequently. But one who is determined to succeed. He resists the urge to take him out of the bath and let him get used to it more slowly by dunking beneath the water to feel the heat all over him. He rises, breaking the water with a small splash and tossing his thick, sliver-white hair, then steps back to Sage and smoothes back his hair from his small oval face.

He stops, the water up above his hips and then Master's hands on his face stops him, and he's grateful. The water licks at his welts and he breathes, a little shakily. His head is light from the heat and the steam, but he feels steady enough as he looks up at Master. He swallows and looks down at the surface of the water. "Master...your bath servant..."

"What about her, Sage?" He passes a hand over the dark little face, wet and warm, gentle. He lets the boy soak, watches to ensure he does not get burned or pass out.

Doki dips his end into the water, a little at a time as he closes his eyes when Master's hand moves over his face. And he realizes that he is asking Master a question he has always asked other servants and slaves in the past, and he flushes from his toes to the top of his head. Why is he even thinking about asking these questions? These weren't questions you asked a Master. They don't concern themselves with the hierarchy of servants. "She is very pretty," is what he says. It is the truth, even if it is not what he had been going to ask.

Sesshoumaru cocks his head a little. "Pretty" is not a word he would use for Midori. Sage is pretty. Midori is boyish, takes a fuck like a man, and knows how to be gentle like a woman when washing him. She's a healthy blend and he likes her slender, curve-less body. "Is she," he replies. "Yet that is not what you were going to say." He's certain of that. "Does the water hurt too much?" It suddenly hits him that he is interacting with Sage as a child, when in truth he has no idea how old he is. Perhaps he will ask.

"She is, Master." He gnaws his lip when Master shows he's as observant as Sage had noted before and he sighs unhappily. "It hurts Master," he says, "but not so much." He hesitates, then does his best to distract Master from his omission of what he was going to say with another truth. "I'm afraid to get my back wet."

Midori smiles at the guards as she makes her way back to the young Lord's bathing chamber with a small, soft robe that her sharp eyes assured her would fit the young slave well, even allowing for that pretty little fur. And a variety of healing ointments, salves and balms to try on various different wounds. She had noted at least three different types on different parts of his body obviously caused by different traumas. A rub wound would not respond best to the same salve a whip wound, after all.

The honesty feels good, all through him. "I understand." Truthfully, he does not. He endures everything and anything he must or wishes to. He faces no hardship, but his father's punishments -- as well as his rewards -- can be grueling. But he has no desire to see Sage in pain, and if it troubles him to note this, it is also a pleasure to so easily care for him and to have one so vulnerable in his ownership. So many pleasures a sensitive boy can experience...of so many varieties. He lifts Sage out of the water a moment; just up into the air in his arms again, careful of his back. And he sees Midori. "How shall we soothe his wounds best?" he asks her, unashamed not to know such things, for they are not, generally, his concern.

She sets down the little robe by the large one for her Lord and lines the salves and ointments on a nearby shelf before removing her own short robe and moving over to the tub to kneel at the edge. "Well, the first thing we should do is clean them well. It will hurt, but there is no way to avoid this pain. The guards informed me he would need cleansing soap, and now that I can see his wounds I can see we have everything needed to get them started healing properly, my Lord." Goodness the child is small and dark next to Lord Sesshoumaru's brilliantly beautiful paleness and vividness. "If my Lord will allow me, I would also check his hair and fur for parasites, which he no doubt has."

Sage looks down at his body right against Master's skin, and he can see where the water level on his body ended as his skin is hot and red and interesting. He listens to the servant, who speaks so clearly and so familiar with Master. She speaks with the confident air of someone who knows her place and her Master.

Parasites. Sesshoumaru wants to drop the boy and get out of the tub. Immediately. He has never...kami...parasites. He fights back a shudder, but his fur staunchly refuses to let go of its new best friend. Sesshoumaru nods with a barely audible sigh. "I knew you would know precisely how to care for him, Midori. I should have had you prepare a cooler bath. Can you do so in the next chamber, or perhaps he needs water this hot to open up some of those cuts to be cleaned? I..." He hesitates. Clears his throat to avoid seeming to have hesitated. "I can hold him as you clean him." He turns the boy to his chest and encourages him to wrap his arms and legs around Sesshoumaru's own waist and shoulders, then walks them to the edge where Midori waits.

He can smell the disgust and his head drops miserably even as he obeys Master's nudges to put his arms and legs around him to hold on. He does, and wraps Doki up around his neck and shoulders to keep him out of the way. He can't help that he has fleas and lice, though he can tell Master does not have to worry about them migrating to his fur or hair. Fleas and lice after all live off warmbloods and Master's body was so very obviously toxic.

"The warmer the water he can stand, the better, my Lord," she says as she watches her Lord move the boy around. "We can prepare future baths to be cooler of course until he builds up the ability to stand hotter temperatures." Her fingers are gentle as she touches the child's back. Yes, these were lash marks, recent ones on top of older ones. "He is strong," she comments as she wets a new sponge and lets it sit in the air for a few moments to cool as she arranges herself so she may better wash the little slave. Gently she squeezes the water over his back, wetting him down, his hair as well as his skin, but avoiding the fur for the moment.

Sesshoumaru feels words pulled out of him, someplace he was not aware of until the words come. "Of course he is strong," he says firmly, "and it is not his fault he has been mistreated." He can smell and feel Sage shrink even as he obeys. Yes, he is strong. As he must be. He is the child of the Lord of the West. Neither heir nor youkai, but not weak or worthy of abuse. "Once clean, Sage, you will never be permitted to descend to...to this state again." It is a command, a promise, so many things. He feels that dominant energy surge again, and enjoys it, even as he wishes he were not holding a boy full of parasites.

"Yes, Master," he whispers, holding very still for the second person who has touched him with such gentleness. He can tell as she begins to clean him just how gentle she is being. He buries his eyes in Doki though because it hurts so much, his breathing harsh and panting as she works steadily.

Midori smiles at that, her eyes sparkling as her Lord shows a side that very few people ever see. She truly enjoys her place in his service and would not trade even a "good" marriage or mating for this position, ever. And she will keep the evidence of other parasites to herself for now, but make certain to get a proper dosing so the child's body may clean itself out. She speaks in a low, soothing voice as she cleans, words of encouragement and comfort, focusing on her job entirely.

Sesshoumaru's fur wraps his bottom as both he and Sage are calmed by Midori's energy. The servant is a wonder, his father has said a dozen times. Of course, in part that is because she is the first woman Sesshoumaru fucked and he knows his father was fearing his son would be forever a virgin, despite the many many MANY times he came in Papa's hand and his mouth and wherever else an inu boy can come for his Papa. He nudges Sage's face up and licks his mouth again, a gesture that just seems right. "Shall I keep you from thinking too much about pain?" he asks softly in Sage's small ear.

Sage trembles a little with the effort of holding still until he is distracted by Master's nudging and tongue and quiet words. He is already distracted by that and he nods gratefully, not trusting his voice. Please Master, his eyes say, though.

Midori notes well the double brand...a longtime slave and a troublemaker? She does wonder what prompted Lord Sesshoumaru's purchase of a slave, but she can hardly blame him. The puppy is very beautiful for a hanyou slave and the inu is very strong in his blood. She takes the pitcher and dips it into the bath and gently pours the water over the wounds, sluicing off the soap and the remains from the very worst of them and being as gentle as she possibly can be. His fur too will require a gentle touch, though Lord Sesshoumaru did express his desire to bathe his new slave himself, she will have to instruct him on the proper use of the parasite shampoo.

Sesshoumaru kisses Sage then, more gently than in his chambers, but firmly and with open and dominant mouth. There is something arousing about knowing Sage's pain will flow from his back to his mouth and then into Sesshoumaru's own. Feed it to me, feed your pain to your master. Oh the thought of ownership is good, and will be even better when any thoughts of parasites can be banished permanently. For permanently is what he intends.

He whimpers into the kiss and his arms tighten around Master's shoulders, even as Doki loosens but still keeps out of Midori's way. Oh it hurts, but oh Master's mouth is so good...he wants to please him and having lice and things does not please Master at all, he can tell. His cock, pressed against Master's smooth, hard belly twitches with interest, though it does not harden more than a little bit.

"There, that is much better I think," Midori says finally. The slave's back is quite pink from her efforts, and several of the welts are open and bleeding a bit, but that is good. That will help the salves and ointments take that much better. "My Lord, if you think the pup can handle it, dunking him to wet him all over before you clean his fur and hair might be a good idea."

Sesshoumaru reluctantly breaks the kiss, grateful for Midori's work. "Can you handle it, my Sage?" he asks, so easily using the possessive, knowing the boy can handle it...and has perhaps handled more pain than Sesshoumaru ever has or will. "Let's see how my little dark slave looks when he is sodden."

"Yes, Master," he says. His back feels raw in the way that a good scrubbing of wounds does when it is needed. And it was done with hot water, so it won't hurt overly much. He is warm where he is pressed against Master, but he suspects the over-all wet warmness will feel good, even if it stings some.

Sesshoumaru slips slowly into the water, bending, crouching, then leaning back with Sage on his chest until the boy's back is submerged. He kisses him again when he feels him tense a little, swallowing his discomfort in the arousal of possession. Pulling back gently, he murmurs, "Hold your breath," and takes them both under.

He obeys, grateful for the slight distraction, grateful even more for the kiss itself. Has he ever craved such kisses before? Not so soon, he is certain. He holds his breath as the water covers his head. The moment he realizes he has no control over getting back to the surface of the water and to air, he panics a little as only one who has been punished by having his head held underwater can panic. The part of his brain that knows better is clamored down by the panic. Doki thrashes in slow motion and his claws scrabble, trying to get up, up to air, please...

Midori waits and frowns a little as they go under and there are signs of struggle already. Had she misjudged what his skin could handle?

Sesshoumaru grips Sage tightly, afraid somehow the slave will hurt himself far more than concerns for his own body, and bursts from the water. Sage claws him, rips with blunt talons that cannot do him overmuch harm but are not meant to. "Sage," he says, his voice an unignorable command, one arm around him and the other pressing at his shoulder, shaking him firmly to get his attention.

Sage gulps in air, and a little bit of water and coughs, shaking his head and trying to clear it. When Master speaks however, he freezes. Oh. Kami...what has he done? "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it, I'm sorry Master!!" He closes his mouth before he begs to not be punished...rightly he ought to be punished for such an act! For shame, he scolds himself!

Midori forces her calmness. Breathe in seven counts, hold seven counts, then out. It is clear the slave is frightened. Such things happen, she knows. But it is not her place to decide what must be done with the little slave, so she waits, patiently, her bare legs still dangling in the water, waiting.

"Sage," Sesshoumaru says, disliking the feeling of suddenly having to be owner, protector, parental figure. Sage is a child, a frightened child. This is not what he expected, not what he sought. But then, what was he seeking? He pushes the question away and turns Sage into his arms like the frightened child he is, the way his father held him so many times. "Are you all right?" He looks down at the shaggy, downturned head, coughing, the red back, so full of marks he wonders how one so young earned so many lashes.

Sage nods; he cannot speak clearly just yet. He's okay. He is. He swallows and turns his head away so as to not sully Master with his inability to control his body. Once he's settled enough so he's not coughing and choking on water he answers properly. "I am unharmed, Master. I am sorry for displeasing you and behaving in such a disgraceful manner." It is the best apology and contriteness he knows. Whether it saves him from a lashing or not, he is sorry. He knew this Master...his new Master was not punishing him, and he panicked as though...as though he did not know better. He is ashamed of himself.

Midori arranges the soaps and the parasite shampoo as her Lord addresses his slave. If asked, she will advise with what little experience she has that may help. That the slave had been frightened was obvious. He had not been frightened at the prospect of going under the water, so she reasons it is not fear of the water, nor is it a pain reaction. But slaves, depending on their backgrounds, former masters, and an innumerable amount of other factors often did things that made little sense to normal people.

Sesshoumaru has no doubt the boy is sincere. Though he doesn't relish the caretaking role, he has no doubts Sage feels shame and wishes not to displease his new master. Why so much fuss? "Did you swallow water?" He cannot understand exactly what happened, and what he wishes for more than anything else is for Sage to calm down so they can enjoy their bath. He frowns a bit, wondering how many other facets of slave ownership will bring him frustration.

He had, but that wasn't..."Yes, Master, but only when you came up," he says in the subdued manner of a slave resigned to his failure. He swallows again, and surreptitiously makes sure his airway is clear so Master may have no need to worry about his wellbeing. Already he has treated Sage better than any other Master to his memory. He remains still, in Master's arms, calming himself with long practice.

"Well, if everything is all right then, perhaps my Lord wishes to begin to clean his new slave?" Midori smiles. "I have just the thing for his fur and his hair, my Lord, to begin with if you still wish to wash him yourself. Or I can wash your hair, my Lord, first if you wish?"

“In a moment, Midori.” Sesshoumaru feels almost itchy, disliking Sage's discomfort and attempt to control himself. Is this what slaves do, force themselves to still when they are upset? The scent is...off. Wrong. Unnatural. Perhaps others slaves he has known that have not belonged to him did not affect him this way because he was not so close to them - in proximity or relation? He is unsure, and he seeks sureness. Confidence. True calm and not this strange semblance of obedience. "Are you all right?" he asks, tipping up that little face with a careful claw once more. "Why did you panic, Sage?"

"Yes, Master," he says automatically. It's true. He is all right. The second question, though...he does not want to answer that. Master so far has not been anything but physically gentle with him. And he dislikes the idea of giving ideas for punishment, especially one that is so terrifying. But he must answer. "Other Masters..." Oh how he does not want to say this! "Sometimes I was punished by having my head held underwater, Master." This...was not like that he wants to say. This...he wasn't frightened...he wasn't!! Not when the bath servant suggested it, not when Master said they would do it. Not until the water closed over his head. He does his best to put his head down, tipped up as it is by a sharp claw. Master's claw.

"Of course, my Lord," Midori says, more than prepared to wait. And while she does, she uses her eyes, her ears, and her nose.

Sesshoumaru nods, calmly. He feels disgust rise for those who lack the power to control what is theirs without abuse. Certainly, he has used his poison to attack, his claws and his fangs as well as his sword. And he will no doubt do so many, many more times during his lifetime. "I am your master now. You will obey me because I am your master, tell the truth when I ask for it, and have no fears of punishment--especially of so weak a sort. Do you understand, Sage?" The name, so foreign, sounds right in his mouth. A long-voweled morsel, a perfect savory bite.

"Yes, Master," he says, very very softly. He knows he will obey, or at least he knows that right now he believes he will. Slaves obey, mostly, but even when they do, masters punish if they wish. The truth is easy, even when it is frightening. The habit of being truthful is ingrained in him, after being spelled by various collars or other magical restraints in addition to the iron or leather ones. He is confused, though. All masters punish. All slaves do something to bring on punishment, whether they do so out of ignorance, or in his case deliberately. He's not sure what to think about Master's words about having no fear of punishment. He does not fear punishment so much that he obeys out of fear...it is confusing.

Midori practices the name in her head. She is not at all certain she can pronounce it the way Lord Sesshoumaru is; and it is a name she has never before heard.

"Very well. Let's get you washed, then. Midori, I will be the only one to wash Sage's fur, unless he washes it himself. Do not touch it, any more than you touch mine, without permission. I say this, I have no doubt you know, not because his status is worthy of such consideration in this castle, but because his fur, like mine, is sensitive. I know you understand." He reaches out for the soap, and leans against the tub, Sage still in his arms.

Midori bows, her legs still in the water. "Of course, my Lord." She hands him the parasite soap, and warns, "It is strong, but it must be used and well lathered to the skin. Do your best to not get it into his eyes or yours." She tips her head, considering, then rises and fetches a weighted stool for purposes that are like these. "Perhaps if you placed this on the bottom of the tub and had your slave stand on it, then he could hold the side of the tub, and you will have both your hands to work the soap in, my Lord?"

He...likes being held like this, he realizes. There's something very different about this Master, Sage thinks again to himself. Something very different and he is afraid he is beginning to like whatever it is.

Sesshoumaru nods, hating to be told what to do, but accepting it from Midori almost always, somehow. She is respectful, honest, and keeps her opinions to herself. He takes the stool and puts Sage up on it. "Good enough to eat," he murmurs, then winces a bit at the strong aroma of the soap. "Or perhaps not quite yet," he adds, feeling an odd mix of burden and pleasure. This is all so very new, and he is determined to master it -- as well as Sage. "Let us get you clean enough to enjoy," he says quietly, and begins to gently -- as if it were his own fur -- lather Sage's little pelt.

Sage stands, surprised again. Perhaps of the many Masters he has been owned by, three took any kind of interest in his grooming. One had been a frog youkai, and one other had been a human who, according to the servants in his home, had some kind of mental sickness concerning cleanliness. His toes grip the edge of the stool and his hands the edge of the tub, examining up close the tiling of the tub itself and the floor and Midori's nearby leg. He puts his head down soon enough because this...cleaning brings tears to his eyes. Not of pain, but no one has ever touched Doki so. He cannot reach all of his fur himself, and Doki himself is showing how well he is enjoying being treated thusly. Of course, the soap is also strong and the fumes make his nose run, so the tears in his eyes are likely from the same source. Still it feels...amazingly good. Ouch...a little sharp on the skin when it gets there, but not even enough for him to think of flinching.

After a few moments, Midori takes a bucket of clean water so she may wipe her Lord's face every so often, knowing how strong the fumes are. She slips into the tub to stand beside him, not touching the slave, only wiping away what the fumes produce in her Lord's nose and eyes and skin.

Sesshoumaru makes an unwitting hum-rumble in his chest and throat as he works, even as he blinks away the fumes. His fur wraps his own wrists, both longing to touch and shying from the strong soap. "Thank you," he tells Midori, then, "Would you ensure my slave does not suffer as I do from the fumes?" He feels no parasites, but he knows they may be nearly invisible to the eye. The pleasure of openly touching another fur this way, not Papa's, not his own...it is exquisite, precious. Were it for pleasure other than to wash it clean of infestation, he would enjoy it even more...and will in future. "I chose my slave well, do you not agree, Midori?"

She bows her head, "Of course, my Lord." She wrings out the cloth and dips it again, gently wiping the slave's little face after tipping it up. "There...it's all right. That's better." He really is a pretty little thing. She looks up at Lord Sesshoumaru and smiles. "My Lord has exquisite taste, if I may say so. And he is young...should you choose to keep him you will have the pleasure of ensuring he grows as he has begun." She notes a few, small scars; one beneath his left eye, a few others in less noticeable places and then goes back to wipe Sesshoumaru-sama's face again. "I confess, it has been many years since I saw such furs outside of your father's family, my Lord. For a hanyou, it is unusual indeed. You will doubtless be the envy of many." She wipes both faces again, and then fetches more clean water to rinse the fur with. "When you rinse, my Lord, it is best to pour with one hand, and work out the soap from the top down, if possible. Once it is all rinsed out, then perhaps his hair, and then you can turn to more...pleasant tasks."

Sage is grateful for the soft cloth and gentle touch of the bath servant. He hears the conversation, and notes the way the servant addresses master even more. So very respectful, but very easy as well.

Sesshoumaru fights back resistance, wanting to tell Midori he is Lord, he knows what he's doing. But, of course, he doesn't. He wonders if he's ever bathed anyone else this way. No. Of course he hasn't. Why would he? And her mention of their family and the furs. His own fur writhes a little in response. She is only too right. Does she suspect? And, indeed, why is he not telling Sage of his heritage from the first? He opts to follow her instructions and to trust his instincts. She truly is a treasure, now as always. His skin begins to recoil from the soap, for it is sensitive despite the poison beneath the surface. "Perhaps you will pour, Midori, while I work the soap out?" He turns to Sage. "Does it hurt?"

"Of course, my Lord." She obeys, trickling the water through the slave's fur, beginning at the shoulders and smiling as her Lord's hands work the harsh soap through and out. She has bathed many a reluctant, bug-ridden slave in her past...this is almost a pleasure. Everything with her Lord is a pleasure of course...but being de-flea'd and deloused is not fun for anyone.

Sage keeps himself still. "It stings a little Master, but...I have scratches, I suppose." He does not wish to elaborate on his personal habits, scratching what itches when he can.

"It is not your fault you have been mistreated," Sesshoumaru says in a low, quiet voice. He finds pleasure in touching Sage so freely, even if there are strong-scented soaps and harsh treatments to endure in cleaning the boy. But he wants the slave's own scent to return to its former state of eagerness and curiosity, even arousal. A thought occurs as he finishes cleaning the fur and turns to his hair. "My slave will look beautiful sleeping bare on my white fur floor coverings with his dark skin and black hair and pelt, will he not, Midori?" Suddenly, the question of whether he can transform comes to mind, but he puts it away for later.

"My Lord has such exquisite taste," Midori says, eyeing the slave with a practiced look over. "He would indeed be lovely surrounded by soft, white fur." Carefully, she wets the slave's hair again, and lets Lord Sesshoumaru treat it the same way as his fur, with no input from her. She merely goes back to wiping away the results of the fumes.

Real white fur? That would be nice. Much nicer than anything in a slave quarter sleeping place or just about anywhere else. Better than sleeping on the floor in a Master's room without either blanket or fur to soften and keep the cold from the floors from seeping into him. And he hears Master's words: it is not his fault he has been mistreated. Even if that were so, he is a slave. Slaves are property and those who own them may do as they wish with their property.

Sesshoumaru feels as Sage relaxes a bit, trusting him and Midori not only because Sesshoumaru is his new master but because he responds to their treatment, their voices and scents. He is as sure of this as he can be, and he trusts his sense of smell and the way Sage so easily gives himself into Sesshoumaru's aura. Or so it feels, a hand-in-glove sort of settling. It pleases him, as an obedient servant like Midori pleases him, though this is far newer. He cleans Sage's hair with the soap, wanting to touch more of Sage's body with his own than he is, but waiting until the dreadful stuff is washed out. "Have you ever openly misbehaved, little slave?" he says, voice as mischievous as the question. He has himself never been well-behaved, and the desire to own this boy and train him to obey only his commands, to be troublesome as his father's bastard should be with all other's but him...it is a delicious thought.

"Yes, Master," he says, his eyes closed as Midori had warned him. Despite the best care, even she whose main job was to bathe, sometimes got soap where it did not belong and this soap was strong and slippery. Yes, he deliberately disobeyed, quite a lot. He tested his boundaries, his Masters. When he was younger it seemed the only way to do so. He took the beatings he earned not without screaming and tears, but without complaint at least. When he had been branded the second time, though, he had to shift his thinking. He still disobeyed when he could if the Master was...it was hard to explain even to himself and he's long since given up trying. But the spells stopped him from doing quite a lot that he used to do, and his most recent disobediences came in the forms of driving away would-be bidders, and fighting things he was meant to do while in the slaver's possession.

Since her Lord is nearly done with the soap, she climbs out of the tub and moves over to where she had set the gentle soaps, and some very light almond oil for the boy's hair and fur. That parasite soap will dry him out some.

"It is so difficult to tell whether a slave so young is scarred so because he has been ill-used by a violent and overzealous master or if he has incessantly done wrong," Sesshoumaru continues, almost to himself. So much to contemplate, from brands and scars to his panicking when submerged. He hopes the boy has as much spirit as he speaks of, though he will not tolerate open disobedience. He is Lord, and the boy will know it...and worship his new master, if he has his choice. His cock hardens a bit as the last of the soap is finally removed, and he carries the boy to the far edge of the tub, not dipping him further than his shoulders into the warmth. His fur wraps around the slave eagerly, "Come, Midori," he calls quietly, watching her at work with various vials and ornate containers. "Come lavish me and my little slave with the talents of your hands."

"I think it was both, Master," Sage says thoughtfully, then shuts his mouth hard. He didn't mean to say that out loud! All he knows is if he obeyed...he was beaten. If he disobeyed...he was beaten. Once, an old youkai slave who had treated his lash marks when he was smaller had said a thing to him. That he was hanyou. Without the usual disgust that youkai and humans both used in their voices or scents. You got it comin' and goin' youngster, had been what the old youkai slave had said, and nothing more, except to come back to be washed again in three days. His nose wrinkles. He smells all...strongly of that soap now, but he has no doubt that the fleas and lice even now are exiting his fur and hair.

Midori slips into the tub and stretches herself. "What would my Lord like first? Shall I wash your hair my Lord, or do you wish to wash your new slave's body properly now that the most pressing matters have been taken care of?"

Sesshoumaru faces his own selfishness in Midori's words. He considers himself exceedingly generous to even stay in the tub, still touching the lice-ridden slave, still remaining in this tub and not insisting a new, clean bath be drawn for him while Midori -- or some lesser servant -- tends to Sage. And why, indeed, is he so generous? He is a creature of habit, and clean habit at that. So why now does he continue to hold and pamper this admittedly disobedient buggy little bastard slave? Is there even a point to asking? "Help me to ensure he suffers no ill effects from that horrid cleansing, Midori," he says in a commanding tone at odds with the generosity of his words. He turns Sage away from him, leaning him against the tub wall and truly looks at that ravaged little back. His poison recoils. "Never force me to add to this portrait of your past," he says, voice low and rumbling.

Midori brings out a new, much finer softer sponge and prepares it with mild soap. "If you would like, clean him all over...everywhere except his fur and hair with this soap. Gently will be enough, even his back can stand another gentle wipe-down. He is small, but very well behaved I see. His neck also, my Lord."

Sage lowers his head at Master's words and order. He wants to say "Yes, Master" but he does not know this Master yet well enough to know what may or may not happen. "My collar is gone, Master," is what he all but whispers.

Ah, his neck. Both Sage and Midori remind him of its bareness, and the markings and rough, irritated flesh the removal of his collar means. He tends to the rest of Sage's body first, passing the sponge and his fingers where he will, from back to belly to genitals to thighs, spreading them and watching and smelling for his response. "His collar was foul with spells and enchantments, Midori. It spoke of weak and ineffectual mastery." Only when the boy's scent is calm and receptive to his touch and his whims does he return to his throat, touching it gingerly and passing the sponge around and around it. He brings his lips close to Sage's little angled ear. "My collar will be a reward, slave." He envisions it as he speaks. "Soft leather, bearing my seal; you will long for it, and when I give it, you will wear it with pride."

Midori cannot help herself. She makes a face. Spells and enchantments...that explains much. "Please forgive my forwardness, my Lord. I know there have been circumstances where such things have been necessary, usually for the person or slave's safety from himself or from others. But to do so to a child slave..." She has no doubt the hanyou is yet a child. Older than his years certainly...he shows it in many ways. But he also responds to Lord Sesshoumaru in ways one close to adulthood would not. Spells and enchantments would have effects, used long-term sometimes there is no telling the eventual effects. But though she herself is no witch or spell caster she knows that the first, most effective way of removing such taint after removing whatever held the spell is water.

Sage is as quiet as he can be, though small whines and whimpers and sounds come from him as he is washed, gently all over. His prick stirs a time or two...more than stirs when his ass and prick are washed again. As Master's voice murmurs into his ear, his head tips back. It will be good to have a mark of ownership around his neck again. Until he does, any interaction with the staff and slaves of this castle will be hard. The first week is always the hardest, and the first month is when he must make his own status. But as a slave, his collar will speak for what his slave status cannot.

"Just so, Midori. We clean the boy of more than parasites and ill-healed wounds with this bath. And from bath to my bed. He will be freed of his past and made anew. For me. My will, my pleasure." He washes, touches, his voice hypnotic even to his own ears. What in Sage brings this forth? Is the boy even aware of how he calls to his elder brother, summons his need to possess, to own?

"As you say, my Lord," she says with her sincere smile. The slave is as clean as he will get this first bath; time for the oil. The heat will help it take properly, and she hands the cut glass phial to Lord Sesshoumaru. "This is for his fur and hair, to counteract the harshness of the soap you had to use. And then, if my Lord will permit me, I will give my Lord his proper bath?" Her lovely, wide dark gray eyes smile up at her Lord. She knows she is built more as a boy than a woman...her breasts are small, and her hips narrow...but she has learned that need not be a deterrent for her sexual attractiveness. And it was helpful in her work as well. She considered herself blessed by the gods themselves that Lord Sesshoumaru was pleased enough with her to grace her with his cock now and again.

Sage is very near a dreamlike state. The hands on him are gentle and warm...all around him is warmth and comfort. His hurts are distant, their sharpness dulled, their pain diluted.

Sesshoumaru nods, takes the oil, and turns to lean against the wall of the tub, moving Sage once again to lean his back and fur against Sesshoumaru's chest. He applies the oil soothingly, learning and claiming the boy with a confident yet gentle touch. "How easily he adapts," he says softly, then beckons Midori with two fingers aloft. "Bathe me, Midori." He closes his eyes as he oils Sage's scalp and the base of his fur with care. Midori's skilled touch will please him well in this state.

"Yes, my Lord," Midori says. And she is well skilled with what she does, massaging the proper, preferred pale scented soap into her Lord's hair, rinsing it well, then washing that beautiful, powerful body with hands that know every inch, every muscle, every finger and toe. And as with the child -- she cannot even think of pronouncing such a name correctly! -- she makes soothing words and sounds, and when she sees her Lord coming to the end of his attendance to the little slave's fur and hair, she pushes over the ointment for the child's back with the warm, gentle instruction to rub it in well, even though the skin appears quite raw and the newer lashes are painful looking. It will soothe much more than it will hurt, she explains, even as she concentrates on washing her Lord's legs.

Sage has never...ever been bathed nor treated like this. He knows this. It is entirely new, and so is his response. He is never this relaxed with a Master...not any Master. Even when he obeys and endures he does not feel this way...this relaxed...this cared for.

Sesshoumaru relishes the soft little sounds the hanyou slave makes, and finds himself echoing them with a rough hum in his chest, not unlike that which his father made for him as a pup. Just like that, it emerges from him, sweet and familiar, though it comes from his own body. He will most certainly need to watch his attachment to the little slave. It is new and exciting, but a slave is a slave, regardless of the fact that he is also a half-sibling. "Ah, Midori, your touch is incomparable." It is, most certainly, and it is also a useful distraction from losing himself in the pleasures of touching and inhaling Sage's contented submission.

"You are ever kind, my Lord," she replies as she rinses, sluicing off water with her hands as she does so. "And it is always a pleasure and an honor to serve you as well." She can smell the both of them well, and while she does not pick up on the kin-scent, that there is something primal that has attracted her Lord to this dark little slave is very clear. "If my Lord is nearly done, I will prepare towels and robes as well as combs and the very light oil for my Lord's hair?"

It's so warm...has he ever been so warm before? Not hot and sticky like summer...but warm and wet and comfortable.

"Yes, Midori, please do so." His voice is thick with gratitude for all Midori has done to ready his slave for him, to ease this first bath and its challenges. He can take Sage to bed this night more easily now. Not that he could not have before, but there is far less likely to be the surprise of fleas in his fur (he shudders) or filth in his silken bedlinen. He lifts Sage and considers his desire to dive beneath the hot water's surface, but this is too much. With the soaps and ...other things in the tub, not matter how large, he feels proud at having not fled some time ago. "Have I put my slave to sleep?" he asks, grinning inside.

Sage yawns hugely, and opens his eyes. Oh he feels relaxed. Touched all over, a little tingly in nice places and tired. But the good kind of tired, not the tired when he's been worked all day, fucked all night, and then put back to work the next morning. "Master bathed me," he says with a sleepy smile. "It feels gooooooood..."

Midori, having already climbed from the tub and put her short robe back on after a quick dry brings two, soft fluffy bathsheets over. "Shall I take him while you exit the bath, my Lord, or do you wish to set him on the counter and dry him yourself?" She still has the ointment for his neck, but that will go best on dryer skin.

Sesshoumaru would suspect Midori is teasing him for his attentive possessiveness if he did not know better. "You may take him," he says abruptly, determined not to look the fool, even before one who would never think him such, no matter what he did. Midori is a special servant, and Sesshoumaru may be young, but he is not immune to appreciation of all she offers. He climbs from the tub and takes the sheet she offers, ensuring he stands in the glow of nearby candlelight as he dries himself, that both his servant and his slave may see him at his most attractive.

She takes the little one in her towel-clad arms and wraps him up. Oh, much better. The smell of the parasite soap is faint, and will remain for a few days, but it will do its job. And the little slave is heavier than he looks. "Shhh...it's all right, see?" She turns him so he can see Lord Sesshoumaru. "Your Master is right there." She is gentle, drying him off, combing his ragged hair but not touching the fur. When he is all dry she dresses him in the warm, soft robe and directs him to sit on the bench there while she anoints his neck. "This will sting, but only a little. Dear me, that collar did not agree with you at all! Too large in some places, too small in others and the spells were very clearly clumsily applied. No wonder your neck is so sore," she coos. She can't help it...the child is adorably sleepy but watching Lord Sesshoumaru. "There now, in a day or two it will be ready for a new collar, I think. My Lord? Is there anything else you wish me to do for your new slave?"

Sesshoumaru fights back a one-note laugh at Midori's motherly tone and care. "You have done so much and so well," he says, watching her with Sage. He holds out his arm for Sage to come and waits. Pretty wet little thing. Come to me, he thinks. Come.

It's so steamy in the room. But he knows a cue when it's given, even when he's been beaten to within an inch of his life, starved, so ill he barely recognizes anyone. Right now, he's warm, clean, his ouches are much less ouchy and Doki under the robe is soft and comfortably wrapped around his thin little waist. He fights the yawn. So much warmth and good feelings, even the memory of panic, even the knowledge that he doesn't really yet know this Master. He rises and walks over to Master, stumbling only a little at a joining in the tiles.

Midori cannot help her blush as she bows properly. "Your pardon, my Lord...he is so easy to fuss over when he is so sleepy like this; though I don't doubt the much cooler air of the halls will rouse him from his stupor."

Sesshoumaru's fur wraps the boy before he can get an arm around him. As he exits, he takes the ointment for his back along. "Will you repay your new master's kindness by being no more than a well-scrubbed decoration on his furs this night? I had greater ambitions, little slave." The boy looks as if he is sleepwalking.

He blinks up at Master. It takes him a moment to process properly. "I...Master..." He swallows a yawn, but not the sleepy smile. "I want to please Master."

"And how would you like to please your master, my slave?" His lip curls into a near smile as he watches Sage attempt to stay upright. How comfortable the boy must feel to fear no reprisal for his sleepiness. When it seems he may stumble over the runner in the hall to his chambers, he scoops him into his arms--where his fur can enjoy him more fully--and carries him the rest of the way. He weighs little but he is sleeping-weight in his arms. An odd sensation to keep carrying the boy. His father would no doubt scoff at the pampering...until he recognized his own bastard offspring. And then what?