Sesshoumaru's Slave

III: The Meal
6500+ words [posted 11/26/10]

The air starts to rouse him when Master lifts him up. He rubs his eye, turns his head to yawn, then in a more awake voice answers. "However Master wishes."

"Have all your masters known just what they wish at all times, then? No commands simply to rouse or entertain them?" So pliant...and yet so many wounds that show he has not always been so--will not always be so, surely.

"Sometimes. Sometimes they would want something I could not do just to punish me, or make me try. But yes, I know how to...entertain without being given direct instruction usually. Sometimes I get it wrong or sometimes if I don't like..." he closes his mouth on that. No. This is a MASTER you are addressing. Stupid!

"Don't like?" Sesshoumaru asks, pausing just around the corner from the door to his chambers. "So, even slaves have tastes and preferences. Or is it only the slave I have chosen who thinks of such things as what he likes and does not like?" He inhales Sage's scent. Still the soap lingers, but does its job as it must. Beneath it, though, he smells the sweet animal musk. He leans in and inhales at the place where the pelt meets the boy’s dark skin. So sweet, so right. And it will be even better as the harsh cleansers are no longer needed, as he heals, and as Sesshoumaru provides him with the kind of mental and physical stimulation that will rouse the dog in him.

"Of course, Master. All...well many slaves have likes and preferences and stuff. Some don't...they're too beaten down. But those who survive learn to do what they're told whether they like it or not. I am hardly unique in this, Master," he says quietly, though Doki shows how he likes the scenting by making happy ripples.

"Ah, perhaps my limited experience with slaves is showing." He nuzzles the neck and nips at it, fangs hungry but controlled. "Of course, that makes me no less demanding or formidable." He offers a soft growl of possession, and continues on his way to his chambers. He wants to be alone with the boy now. Naked, alone, and in possession of his new slave. The night will be a good one. He feels both young and fully grown in ways new and arousing.

"Slaves endeavor to hide such things from Masters, Master." He shivers at the nuzzling nip, panting at the quiet growl. "Yes, Master," he breathes.

"Do not hide anything from me, Sage, especially not yourself. I know what I have purchased and I want all of it, all of you." Such a simply made statement, but its meanings and implications are not so simple beneath. They arrive at the door and the guards open it, eyes turned downward but smelling of a curiosity they will no doubt express in the servants' quarters among themselves later. "Have tea, sake, and fruit brought." He pauses. This is all he ever orders, and rarely finishes. Toxicity of blood renders the pleasures of the table cold comfort for the young Lord. "Rice and fish, too." He will not indulge the slave in choosing his meal. The balance between responsible ownership and overindulgence must be carefully managed with this one, he decides on whim and enjoys the decision-making.

"Yes, my Lord, at once," the senior guard responds, bowing as fits his station.

"Yes, Master," he replies when they enter the chambers. He'll do his best...he thinks he will. He doesn't know enough yet. But so far he has been treated with gentle hands, albeit firm. If his new Master were not so certain in his status, Sage could not feel so comfortable. Those who feel they have something to prove often do so by beating up those who cannot defend themselves. Some of his scars are for stepping in on a few of those occasions. A good Master does not beat a loyal, skilled slave woman like Zilla had been for no reason. He was lucky that time; it had been the Master's son doing the beating, and the Master himself had not been pleased. Still, like this...it was an unusual situation. Another Master would have killed him for what he had done in defense of Zilla. The lashing he did get was well worth his actions.

Sesshoumaru enters his room and the large door is closed behind him. He places Sage down in the white furs beside his bed as he has been imagining him for the past hour, removing his robe neatly and replacing it with another fur from his bed. Very nice. Though he can think of few things he would rather do than indulge himself in exploring the boy's abilities and vulnerabilities, his mind is as hungry as his body. He lies back in his enormous bed, tossing his robe aside and offering the slave opportunity to see his master bare once more. The stripes at his wrists, hips, and cheeks seem blood red in the candle light, his flesh pale and glowing with just the hint of fiery yellow-green that speaks of the poison beneath.

Sage wonders, as he's put down -- kneeling automatically -- what animal the fur on which he sits came from. He's never seen nor felt the like. He pulls it around his shoulders, the one that replaces his robe, not to hide anything, just to keep it on and watches Master. He had been beautiful in the bath, Sage remembered. How can he be more beautiful now? Some Masters were beautiful. They were made that way. He'd had a snake youkai master whose skin/scales glinted like a rainbow captured inside them. Beautiful. But not as beautiful as this Master. Doki wraps around his waist and he lowers his eyes and head when he realizes he's been staring and that is usually not a good thing.

"Tell me about yourself, Sage," he asks, enjoying Sage's gaze upon him. Vain, of course, but he also loves the curiosity in those sharp eyes. "Do you know your mother? Did you have a life before you became a slave?" He remarks the boy's eyes turning down. Delectably brave and out of his element. Off-kilter. He likes it.

"There was a fire," he says quietly. "I remember a little. Only a little. Someone told me more, later. She didn't die saving me; everyone thinks that when I say anything about the fire. She got me out first. I remember the wet blanket she wrapped around me and the smell of smoke and burned fur and meat...and she told me to stay and she went back in. Later, when someone who knew what happened crossed paths with the Master I had then, she told me Mama had saved four more people before the fire consumed her and everyone else trapped inside. The last two she saved she literally threw out a window." His voice is quiet, and mostly emotionless. "Everyone who cared for me lived in that house. I had no father, and no one was interested in taking care of the hanyou son of a whore. So I was purchased and branded. I don't remember much else, Master."

Sesshoumaru listens quietly, still, taking in the sincerity in the boy's scent as he wraps himself in the fur. So small, so vulnerable, yet so self-aware. At the end of his tale he nods, understanding as much as anyone can. Such is the way of the world for most. A whore's son. Papa and his whores. Not even some daughter of a distant noble, then. His brother the hanyou slave, child of a whore. The reminder of the brand is what most irks him. He wonders how such might be removed, whether it is even possible. He wishes suddenly that he would have been able to claim the boy before he was marked in that way. "How does your back feel? I have more ointment." He cannot deny he wants to be touching the boy. Why does he delay the gratification?

He wriggles his shoulders and Doki obligingly rubs over the wounds. "Much better. Cleaner. Like they want to heal proper now." He bows, this time appropriately into the fur. "Thank you, Master." Actually, he feels much better overall. He is a little tired; all that time in the hot water and the scrubbing and stuff...but he's not so tired that he's in danger of falling asleep. At least not now.

The guard knocks at the door. In addition to what Lord Sesshoumaru had asked for, there is a small bottle with a sealed note from Midori.

Sesshoumaru nods for the tray to be placed on the table beside his bed and then for the guard to leave. The green tea smells good, the sake is always inviting - though useful too, should the slave feel pain and need rest. The rice, faint enough, but the fish? Not to his liking, though he can tell it is well prepared. "Are you hungry now, slave?" His mouth waters not with the desire to feed himself, but with the pleasure of knowing he is treating this little son of a whore better than anyone perhaps ever has.

"Yes, Master," he says, rising from his bow and watching the tray of food. It's all fresh. And none of it is leftover from something else. Also no natto. He'll eat it; he'll eat pretty near anything and has, but he just never developed a fondness for the fermented bean curd.

Ah, he likes that. Hungry now. Sesshoumaru sits up and puts fish neatly over the bowl of rice. "The look in your eyes tells me I should perhaps have given you plainer fare. A spoiled child is difficult to unspoil." But he doesn't mean a word of it. A lifetime could perhaps not spoil this one, he decides; though he reminds himself again to be wary. There is a reason for the double branding, the welts, however undeserved his status. He begins to hold the bowl out, then pauses, sliding back onto his bed. "Come sit with me." Feeling entirely unparental, he nonetheless will hold the chopsticks and feed his slave. "Come be my pet, little hanyou pup." He cannot resist a hint of a grin, but banishes it quickly. The sparkle in his eye remains.

Sage crawls out from under the fur around his shoulders to Master's feet, not sure if Master means for him to sit with him on the bed or at his feet. "Yes, Master. I...I am grateful for whatever you see fit to feed me, Master."

Sesshoumaru cocks his head a fraction of an inch. Has all playfulness been beaten out of him? A true shame if so, but he doubts it. "Climb up and let me feed my pet and stroke his soft fur. The fish no doubt smells better to you than to me. Come on then, I don't want to keep smelling it when it could be doing better for both of us in that scrawny belly of yours."

That seems to be clear enough. He climbs up onto the bed...ohhh...soft and smells so nice and bows his head a little bit while he processes Master's scent and tone and words before looking up with a little smile. A pet. Master wants to feed him.

"And what is that smile for?" he asks, tossing back his damp hair and sitting on his heels. He takes the bowl and chopsticks and holds a bite out. "To whom do you belong, little slave?" he asks, an obvious prompt for which the correct answer will merit an edible reward.

"The smile is because Master wants me to please him and I like that." He watches every movement of the chopsticks, and pauses. The word "Master" is so ingrained into his responses that he has paid little attention to those who address him as Lord...Lord...oh Kami he doesn't know Master's name! "I belong to you, Master," he says, hoping Master does not wish him to be more specific. Stupid!! You're too comfortable!!! But he's good, the other voice in his head reasons. He hasn't hit you, he's bathed you, personally, and treated your wounds and touched you gently. Yes, perhaps be on a little guard, but it seems as though This Master wishes more than mere obedience. He's used to the voices...he doesn't think they're mad voices...they're the reason and warning voices.

Sesshoumaru brings both the chopsticks to Sage's lips and his own lips to the boy's ear. "You belong, little one, to Lord Sesshoumaru."

He takes the bite, carefully with his lips not his teeth and barely chews it before swallowing and repeating, "I belong to Lord Sesshoumaru...Master."

Sesshoumaru watches the boy inhale the food. "Little pet, chew the food before you swallow it. If your belly aches later and you keep me from rest, I will have to have you sleep elsewhere, and you wouldn't like that, would you?" How pleasant this is, in its strange way. Little slave boy, pet...little toy. And he has no desire to be rid of the responsibility of him at the moment, though his parents both love to tell him he is without patience. Ha, if they could but see him now. He holds out another bite.

"Yes, Master. I mean, No, Master, I wouldn't want to sleep elsewhere, please. I mean..." he closes his mouth and sits up prettily on his knees, his hands flat between his thighs, Doki happy at his back. This is me, being a good boy, a good pet. Right? Please?

"Eat, pet," Sesshoumaru says softly, voice a delighted purr. Mmmm, the obedience looks so well on the dark-haired little creature. Child of a whore and bastard hanyou he may be, but he is so damn pretty. "Once you are full, we can play."

That brings a happy smile from Sage. He hopes it means what he thinks it means: he will get to please Master even more. Doki positively wags in anticipation. He opens his mouth again, and this time chews the bite offered more properly.

"Is the food to your liking, little hungry slave?" He cannot help but be curious. Even his more submissive servants are not so reserved as this one. He wants more response. And then it strikes him that his impatience has not abandoned him. He leans over and points. "Sake or tea, pup?"

"Oh yes, Master, it is wonderful!" It is, too. The rice is fluffy and a little sticky, just as he likes it, and the fish is sweet and flavored with something he is not familiar with, but tastes good and makes him feel good, too. He looks up, to where Master is pointing. Sake...or tea? "I...I..." He looks up at Master's face trying to figure out which is the right answer. In truth, he enjoys both in their ways. And he is thirsty, so if he chooses sake he will drink too fast, too much, but if he chooses tea and Master wants him to drink sake instead... "I do not know Master."

Does not know. That means, once again, he wishes to do right. How good it will be to deprogram the boy then imprint him with his own needs…flavored with Sesshoumaru's own preferences, of course. Sadly, not enough can be done before his father returns, and he must decide whether and how to handle telling the boy who his father is...but not tonight. He sighs, turns back to Sage. "Tea then, first, so the food settles well." He reaches to hold the cup to the boy's lips; then instead brings it to his own and takes a small warm mouthful. Perfectly brewed as always. He brings his mouth to Sage's and feeds it to him in a kiss.

"Yes Mas--" but his rote answer, though he means it when he says it...or has since being purchased by this Master...is cut off as the tea (and oh the tea is so fine and obviously expensive too!!) is fed to him in a kiss. He is well trained enough to not let any spill, though his eyes are wide when he swallows. He tends to pride himself on not being taken by surprise too often, but this Master is so different to any others in his memory. It is not unpleasant, but it is unsettling.

Sesshoumaru feels the boy swallow and releases him from the kiss. "Tea is one of my few culinary pleasures. Your mouth brought new flavor to that pleasure, Sage." He holds out the cup. "Take another sip and give me your kiss."

He takes the cup in steady hands and bows his head over it, breathing in the tea, then taking a sip carefully, and just as carefully holding the cup with both hands but leaning up to press his mouth to Master's.

Sesshoumaru leans in and sucks the kiss and the tea greedily from the boy, hoping to evince a whine from those pretty lips. Feel your master's power and desire. Accept my dominance but treasure it as a gift, too. A lot for one sip of tea, but the newness of being a slave owner has him in its grip. He finds the cup and puts it aside as he continues to kiss then scoops Sage into his lap. He ends the embrace in savoring the boy, licking his mouth and cheek. "I could devour you," he says, voice low and rumbling, though there is no intention of threat.

He moans his little high-pitched moan as he's drunken from and then pulled into Master's lap and held and kissed and licked. Master's desire is strong and his dominance is strong, too. Sure of itself in a way young Lords almost never are in Sage's experience. He looks up at his new Master...really looks. He knows he courts a punishment, even banishment, but he does what he must, anyway. His fingers reach up and touch the cheek of Lord Sesshoumaru, beneath one golden eye. And now he can see more clearly. The eyes are more yellow than true gold, but a dark ring of amber surrounds the colored part. He feels fur that is not there, poison that is controlled, danger and desire and power...and he is confused and yet not. His confusion is less about his place now, and more about his reaction to this...this power, this Master. He wants...what this Master wants. Truly. Not to avoid a beating or for fear of displeasure. It is not a new feeling, but one he thought long dead in him.

"Brave little slave," he says, blinking down into the tawny eyes and not moving as he is touched. Why does Sage risk such insubordination, just to touch his master's face, to look into his eyes. He smells the curiosity, and perhaps something more. Can the youkai in him be somehow interpreting, reading his master? He does not sense that the child recognizes blood shared between them, but then, he is only guessing himself. A likely guess, to be sure, but still. He cannot be certain. Papa will be. That much he knows. "Tell me what you have learned before I decide on punishment for your lack of discipline."

He pulls his hand down and turns his own much darker yellow eyes down. "I knew I would probably be punished or worse," he mumbles miserably. "But...I wanted to see more...Master is so different to other Masters...I could see your eyes better...the yellow and amber and the fur that is not there and poison that is controlled and danger and desire and power and dominance. I wanted to know why...why I want what Master wants. Not because I am afraid or fear of beating or or...normal things." He lowers his head further. "I'm sorry, Master...but if I asked...I wouldn't see so clearly. I am sorry. Please punish me as Master sees fit."

So well he knows about punishment, so much more than Sesshoumaru ever will or need know. About when to obey and how to push and risk and pay the price. "I will not beat you," he says, drawing a claw softly across the little downturned chin. "It will have no meaning, especially not now, when you seek it as your due. You will cope with the pain as you have in past and you will be distant from me. It will give me neither pleasure nor power. I am more inclined to let you finish your meal in silence, then leave you in the servant's quarters this night to sleep apart from me. And yet that would punish me too, in its way." He leans back, Sage still in his lap, and folds his arms behind his head. "How do you think you ought to be punished for seeking to smell so much of a desire to belong to me?"

Sage folds his fingers together; the blunted claws...how he hates them. They will never grow back properly. He should be punished; he knows he should. But Master should not be punished because he was bad. Master should not suffer anything because he was... He breathes in and out. "Master should have what he wishes," he says honestly. "But if Master wishes me...how can I be punished without denying Master what he wishes?"

"That is precisely the question I ask you, my slave." He sits Sage next to him, then reaches over and hands him the bowl of fish and rice. "Eat as we discuss this. You are intelligent and articulate, so though we are master and slave, the discussion of punishment is beyond neither your abilities nor my interest." He makes himself more comfortable, leaning back and watching the boy who watches him so closely. "I cannot say it would not give me pleasure to hear you whimper and cry as I made that scrawny backside of yours fiery red in my name. Nor can I say that you may prove more trouble than you are worth if you give in to every curiosity, expecting a beating you can shut out emotionally even as it scars that little body of yours beyond healing. But right now? I want your company and I will have it. So, given this relative impasse in which my desire for your presence has cast us, I would have you tell me more of why you wished to see so much more of me than simply being mastered would show you."

He takes the bowl of rice and fish and the chopsticks and takes a bite while he listens to Master's voice and words and considers what to say, and what has been said before now. "Master said before...asked me before if I could not tell this is different. And it is. And...much of the difference I thought was Master. You are different. It is true. Very different from other Masters I have known."

"And why is it important whether I am different or not if you are my slave, regardless?" He watches the boy eat, admiring his skill at handling chopsticks. He is neither guzzling down food despite hunger nor making any mess. Neat, even graceful. Something Sesshoumaru values in himself. An inherited trait from their Lord Father?

He swallows before answering. "Normally, Master, it wouldn't. Masters are different in many ways." He chews his lip. "But many Masters or those who handle Master's slaves have the same kinds of reactions to things. Or similar. But the tolerance is always different." The words are coming difficultly to him, because he wants to be as clear as he can be...for himself and for Master.

Sesshoumaru scratches his cheek, listens. “Tolerance?" he echoes. "You wish to predict my reactions to avoid punishment? And yet you court punishment in order to make me more predictable to you?"

"It is my usual way of figuring out a Master. But I risked being punished because of how...how your desires...how you make me feel. I...I prefer to obey Masters. When I can. When it is right for me or for someone else's well being. And I want to please you. Before I even know what you wish." He looks up. "I wanted...I...I want what Master wants. I never...I never have felt this way. I don't know why," he repeats.

"You are a slave who thinks a great deal. Do you suppose that is unusual?" He points at the bowl, indicating that Sage should continue to eat. The conversation is engaging, but he will enjoy a more physical conversation once he knows the boy is full. He realizes the potential to put the boy to sleep; hence, he has not shared the sake yet. But even asleep he can enjoy getting to know the boy. He would not fuck a drunken, unconscious slave; but he would not hesitate to touch, smell, lick and probe one.

He is grateful for the permission to continue to eat. The rice is...and the fish...oh it's so nice. And he considers the question. "Well...most slaves think more than most Masters give them credit for. But many are simple, either because they are born that way, or they have become that way because it is easier. I was...I don't remember very much before I received my first brand. So I am not like slaves who are captured in battle or sold by parents who need coin. I think because I used to act or speak before I thought. I think." He frowns at the bowl in his hands. It is hard to make his thoughts come out into spoken words.

Sesshoumaru nods, listening attentively. Surprising to find the company of a slave so much more engaging--not only distracting but truly interesting–than so many servants, nobles, or even visiting travelers. Actually, it is as if Sage is a traveler, telling him tales of things he did not know he found interesting until he was hearing them. Yet he is also a slave--his slave--and as he contemplates this, his cock stiffens. "You are likely right. As with all classes of individuals, all species and types of being, there are some who think and some who do not, or cannot. I am pleased you can...and do."

He bows his head and upper body as much as he can without spilling what is left in his bowl, and blushes just a little. "Thank you, Master," he says in his soft but not exactly quiet voice. He finishes the bowl, neatly, and refrains from what his usual course of action would be which is to lick the bowl clean. Instead, he places the bowl on the tray carefully. He notices the little note and the little bottle but says nothing. The note is sealed, and he cannot read anyway. His belly is full, his wounds are sore but so much better, his body is clean and he hasn't been struck since early this afternoon. And he is naked. On his new Master's bed. With his naked Master.

Sesshoumaru reaches for the tea again and hands it to the boy...his boy. He frowns but takes up the note left for him. He does not wish to be interrupted this way, but if it were not important, the note would not be here. He opens and reads, watching Sage from the corner of an eye. Even how he holds the cup is of interest.

My Lord Sesshoumaru, reads the note, please make certain your new slave drinks the entirety of this small bottle before sleep and I will have another for tomorrow. He will feel much better for it. Your faithful servant, Midori

Sage holds the cup carefully in both hands and drinks the tea. It is...like the food...finer than any he has partaken of any time recently to his memory. Some Masters fed him bits from their plates, but never a true meal like this.

Sesshoumaru purses his lips. He trusts Midori without question, though he feels just a twinge at his own ignorance, not knowing how to clean and care for a slave. No matter, of course, as he has servants to attend to such matters and healers as well. Still. He uncorks the tiny flask and offers it to Sage. "Something from Midori," he says, unafraid to acknowledge her assistance. "She wishes you to be as healthy as possible, as do I."

He bows his head and sets the empty tea cup down upon the tray and takes the bottle. Oh. He knows this smell in general if not this specific smell. And Midori is quite right. "Thank you, Master," he says gratefully. "And if I may be so bold as to thank your servant, I would...I mean...I don't know..." There he goes again. He does not know his status in the household, whether it is proper to thank someone who is obviously a high-ranking servant. He swallows the sharp tasting medicine without reservation. It has been sweetened even, with honey to temper the bitter aftertaste and smooth the sharpness. In medicine! For a slave! "Thank you Master," he says again.

Sesshoumaru glows with the obedience, the gratitude. Perhaps he should rescue slaves from half-lives more often. But no. He knows he will not. This one is special. This one belongs to him. "In the morning, Midori will no doubt bring more medicine and healing aids. You may thank her yourself if it is your wish." He takes the small dish of fruit and holds it up for inspection. "Perhaps you would like to earn the taste of something sweet now, my slave?"

"Thank you Master," he says with a smile that very few people upon the death of his mother and his "family" he had with her have ever seen. It changes the entire character of his face, if only briefly. "Yes please...what may I do to earn something sweet, Master?"

Sesshoumaru notes the smile well. And the tone of voice. And the scent. "You are more contented in serving than being given unearned gifts, little one?" He takes a ripe plum into his palm and holds it up, palm flat. "Well, then, let us see. First, I would have you rise and display yourself more fully for my gaze. Show me how so young a creature can hold the eye of a powerful inuyoukai lord and I will reward you with a plum ripe and fresh from our gardens."

He blushes slightly again, then rises. "Yes, Master," he says, considering for a moment whether he should remain on the bed or stand on the floor. He opts for the floor. He's been told of his beauty often enough, it's part of his selling price, but he also knows he is well scarred and his hair is...unkempt. It grows naturally shaggily, but...well he knows it can look better than it does. And Doki distracts from all that and he well knows it. His fur floofs and settles, moving prettily, to wrap around one slim thigh. His body is still small, hairless, but he is not a small child anymore. He has grown, despite what the slaver used to spit in his face--and Master's eyes and desire and dominance are making his slender prick hard again. Eyes turned down and head down and tilted just enough so his eyes may be seen to be submissive, he moves slowly...not in a dance, but in a turning around that is meant to show off his assets, and yet not look contrived.

Sesshoumaru's eyes scan the boy possessively. And he knows well the slave watches him as he watches. Subservient Sage's gaze may be, but he looks back. Oh, that cock. It stiffens, slender and perfect, so much more ripe a sweet than any plum. And how his fur caresses him--so much a small dark version of his own. He could be better fed, a bit plumper and healthier, yes, but his small darkness is such a temptation--and one he may yield to, however he likes.

Sage strokes his hands down his chest and tips his head back as he does so, Doki rippling away from his thigh to wriggle and writhe from his shoulders on down his back and his legs. His hands stop at his hips and he feels the bones with a small, internal sigh that neither shows in his face or movements. If he can feel them this easily his ribs probably show too. Nothing to be done about that. Master seems to like what he is seeing and that is what matters. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and realizes for the first time he is bare. Truly bare. No collar, no chain, no shackles of any kind.

"My my," Sesshoumaru murmurs. The combination of working to please a master yet not be disingenuous is enticing; there is tension but not struggle. He wants to please yet he does not want to seem only to be wanting to please. Complex and beautiful in that complexity. "Touch your cock for me, my Sage."

He looks up at that, biting his lip, then bowing his head again and feeling his teeth settle comfortably into place. Watching his hand slip down his lower belly to his cock reminds him that his claws will not grow sharp again, but they were unable to blunt his fangs. Like his mother, he has double canines, the larger in the fore, the smaller right behind and strong, strong jaws. Masters have pulled them out; they always grow back. They could not be blunted, and it is gratifying to remember there is something they could not take from him that they had wished to. His head tips back again, though, as his fingers brush his prick...just barely touching at first. It makes him shiver and gooseflesh pop up all over his skin. He pulls up, pulling his foreskin which already covers the head still, even erect, taut.

"What is it you are thinking, little slave? It is not about your cock or my pleasure, pretty though your cock is and rich though my pleasure also is. I can smell something else...thoughts you have even though it is pleasing me on which all of your mind should center." He tosses the plum up gently and catches it. "Or this treat you are working to earn." He opens his palm again. "I would have all of your attention, slave, even as I give you mine."

He looks at Master, then bows his head down. "I am sorry, Master...I was thinking about my teeth," he says, entirely honestly. "I watched my fingers and they reminded me of my teeth and I allowed myself to be distracted from your pleasure, Master. I will not do so again. I'm sorry Master." He means it, even as his eyes watch the movement of the plum and the scent of Master's desire and dominance hits him again...hard. His body responds to it without his even trying! His arousal is still sometimes at the mercy of his age and requires more...coaxing to respond to a Master who wishes it. This is not like that at all. His body wants to react to Masters...and it does.

Sesshoumaru is baffled momentarily by the speed of Sage's train of thought. Teeth, watching fingers? But ah, his cock responds as does his scent to Sesshoumaru's displeasure. "See that you do not, Sage." He feels pompous and enjoys it. "Though I would have you tell me what about your teeth concerned you. Are you in pain? I have noted that your fangs are growing in. You seem old to be just growing them now."

"I..." Kami he is so hard. "No Master, not in pain. My claws have been blunted...permanently. And I saw them on my cock and it made me think of my teeth. They could not blunt them, and when they pull them out...they grow back. Every time. I have double fang teeth and a much stronger jaw than most full blooded inuyoukai. I remember Mama saying I got them from her."

Sesshoumaru hisses before he gains control. At some moments Sage is simply a slave, a plaything. At others he is their father's son, bastard or not, and the outrage of his mistreatment galls him...deeply. He cannot imagine having his claws filed, let alone blunted. His fangs…pulled? Such dishonor, disgrace. It disgusts him bodily. He breathes deeply and does not speak until he regains control, stopping himself from crushing the plum and tearing into his bed coverings. "Permanently?" he snarls, at last. He knows of torture, but only from a distance. His fur thrashes and he feels deep in his gut a need to touch the boy. "Come to me," he beckons through gritted teeth.

He stops stroking his cock and obeys at once. He cannot help but be a little frightened, though his instincts tell him Master is not angered at him directly. But that has never stopped slavers or Masters from taking their anger out on whatever was nearest. He stands before Master, head down...unsure what to do. Normally he would kneel and bow, but something in Master's scent makes him pause at his habit.

Sesshoumaru puts the plum down beside him and takes Sage into his arms. He holds out the boy's hand and looks at his nails. Permanently blunted. But...how? Who would want a slave who obeys only because he is made incapable of disobedience? Many, he knows, and the thought enrages him. He will summon a healer in the morning. Perhaps the damage can be undone or at least tempered. He lets the hand drop. "Open your mouth," he commands, needing to see those teeth, to see the fangs growing in, as they should. He knows his scent is probably frightening the boy, but that cannot be helped. Not until he is able to quiet himself.

He watches Master look at his hand and he can smell his anger. It is strong...close to rage if he were to make such a bold statement even inside his head. He opens his mouth as ordered. The bottom ones are nearly grown all the way in, the upper ones quite a bit behind. They had been pulled at different times. He holds as still as he can, Doki winding around his hands, in a gesture he knows from the fur to be both comforting and to hide what has so enraged his Master.

"Listen well, Sage," he says, regaining composure. "You are braver as a slave than any master who could mistreat you so. Should you use your fangs to attempt to do me damage or wrongly harm any under our kingdom's protection -- be they noble, servant, or slave -- you will be punished, severely. But they will never be pulled again. Fangs are..." He stops himself. The boy is looking at him, fearful, his fur wrapping his hands, his body tense. He takes a breath, reaches for the plum, and holds it out to Sage. "I will have a healer look at your hands tomorrow." He begins to wonder whether he can be the master this one needs. He is experiencing feelings he did not know he harbored. And he is certain they come from the connection he seems to share with the pale little hanyou.

Doki unwraps from around his hands to take the offered plum, as he looks up at Master. As his hand closes around it, what comes out of his mouth is not what he expects. "Please...keep me, Master. I want to stay with you. Please." Master had said nothing, indicated nothing that was otherwise and it is not the promise of a healer or that his fangs will not be pulled again that drives this plea. "Please...I promise I will be a good slave for you...I want to please you...I do!! I was pleasing you...I thought."