The journey itself, is freedom
by Ainzfern
23
Kyle Li's spacious apartment in the upper-mid levels of Eos Tower very much reflected the character of the man who owned it. Such a thing was not as unusual as one might suppose of Elites, especially in recent times.
For example, even Iason Mink, ever the splendidly cool and aloof Elite leader – at least under his public persona – kept an apartment which showed clear evidence of the surprisingly casual warmth of the lives that were lived there, little visual hints to personalities and activities. A black leather jacket, not yet attended to by a patient Furniture, carelessly slung over the back of the sofa nearest the main door. A small neat pile of Syndicate stamped documents, partly sorted and waiting where they were left beside a comfortable armchair in the main room. Here and there, cutting the muted and stylish grey/blue tones of the interior design, were flashes of richer shades in the form of elegant glass statues or soft plush throw rugs. Ruby reds and deep warm tones of autumn golds and browns, choices made by an 'unfettered' mongrel who wanted to see color, and embraced by an Elite who could appreciate with his perfectionistic eye for balance and detail the fact that the items did indeed make the place look 'nicer'.
In a separate apartment, resided in by yet another Blondie and his mate, the signs were different but nonetheless still visible. A chess board on the low coffee table, a game in progress yet left in situ until busy schedules allowed for continuation. Next to a mongrel's usual chair in the main sitting room, where a tall and uniquely handsome man would often read through technical spec manuals and review the latest terminal upgrade software, a gift was carefully placed. It was only a small thing, a little 3-dimenisonal puzzle, quirky and quite complicated, and just the sort of item that would allow for a few minutes of pleasant yet challenging diversion. Out on the broad balcony, planter boxes affixed in the correct location held a selection of Orchids, native to both Amoian and federation planets. They were tended, surprisingly enough, not by the resident Furniture but by his Elite Master who found the gentle beauty of the graceful plants to be both pleasant, and calming to an admittedly intense nature.
In Kyle Li's apartment, everything was streamlined and stark, with everything perfectly placed, perfectly balanced. Odd objects left lying about were quickly collected and returned to their shelves. Personal items were never left out to be seen, not the master of the apartment's, not his Furniture's and definitely not his Pet's.
Kyle was great believer in the adage that everything, everything, from object to life-form, had its rightful place in the overall order of the universe.
Things that did not adhere to this opinion left Kyle Li seriously out of sorts.
As he was right now, seated behind his desk in his scrupulously orderly home office and reviewing his departmental end of month report prior to submitting it to Iason's office. He had spotted a downward trend in efficiency in one of the department's sub-sections. It was admittedly only a small drop yet it was noticeable, nevertheless. It would require some manner of addressing, either in private or at the next section manager's meeting. He did, in fact, actually hold the section head – a Platina by the name of Gelane Dar – in some high regard both personally and professionally, thus in this instance he would most likely take the man aside at some point and question the matter, assigning a dead-line for improvements if required.
Kyle had to assume that the staff member Gelane had placed into a recently vacated and key position was not fully proficient in the role. Whether correcting this was just a matter of up-skilling or whether a more experienced individual needed to be placed into the position was a matter to be dealt with during his interview with Gelane; as would be, incidentally, the issue of mitigation for the down turn that should have been included in Gelane's report in the first space, sparing his department head the necessity of speculation.
Setting aside that particular section report summary Kyle paused for a moment, his cold blue eyes lingering upon the document and a tiny frown of vexation marring his usually smooth brow.
This issue of course, could ultimately be traced back to that ridiculous Sapphire, that overly-emotive creature Laron Tak, simply choosing to abandon his station, his duties, in a moment of childish pique over an ex-Pet, for goodness sake. Kyle honestly could not understand it. Shaking his head, he felt his frown deepen towards a scowl. Little whispers of rumor that Kyle had picked up from various areas in the department were suggesting that Laron's departure, the loss of such a remarkably organized and efficient sub-manager, had left a hole in the section that would need at least two people to fill it.
No. Kyle huffed a scathing little sound from deep in his broad chest. Laron might have been very competent, even for a Sapphire, but he was replaceable. Smirking a little, Kyle turned back to the bulk of his documents and selected the next sub-section's overview. Yes, Laron Tak had indeed had cause to discover that everybody, regardless of how special they might have thought they were, was replaceable. And, while Iason Mink might very well have censured Kyle – in his own inimitably subtle way of course – against repeating such actions moving into the future, the fact was that Kyle had already set a suitable retribution in place for the stubborn Sapphire by the time that interview had occurred. The notion that Laron was going to find it somewhat difficult to secure even the lowliest position in any department in light of Kyle's rather vocal public denouncement was one that rather satisfied him.
As much as anything could, of course.
A diffident clearing of a throat from the doorway of his office drew Kyle's attention away from his current musings. Looking up, he assumed his usual distant expression as he took in the sight of Deel standing there, head bowed as appropriate, awaiting his sanction to speak his piece.
"Quickly Deel," he murmured in a preoccupied manner, setting his pen down delicately at the edge of the blotter, "I am very busy, as you no doubt can see."
"Of course, Master Kyle," the Furniture replied with his usual exquisite courtesy. "I only wished to know if Sir would care for a light meal to be prepared."
"Not at this moment, Deel, no," he glanced down at his paperwork, distant frown still in place.
"Ah," Deel nodded. "And would Sir also wish for me to organize his Pets to retire for the evening as well?"
The Blondie looked up once more as he briefly considered it. "Actually... no," he replied softly, but with an undeniable tone of an order as was his habit when dealing with his household. "Keep them suitably attired and in waiting for now. I may wish to observe a performance later."
Deel bowed again, the faintest touch of relief at being able to perform some manner of service for his master crossing his usually impassive face. "Very good, Master Kyle." He withdrew from the doorway as silently as he had arrived.
Consciously dismissing his previous conjecture pertaining to a certain upstart Sapphire, who was no doubt beginning to regret his impetuosity, Kyle turned the full power of his massive intellect upon the task before him. As with so many time-consuming undertakings, the sooner he completed it the sooner he would be able to relax, renewing his energy and resilience with more agreeable pastimes.
Because, as odd a thing it was for Kyle to admit even to himself, being such a self possessed creature normally, he did have to accept that he felt in need of such relaxation more so than usual.
He felt... strained.
Merely weary. Kyle huffed a humorless little snort as he returned to his review of the reports before him. That's all it was.
Even Elites had to admit to it some time.
Through swirling eddies of steam and under rivulets of hot water, strong soap-slicked hands moved with exquisite care over stiff muscle under slippery skin. "How is that?" a deep voice, smooth as honey and soft as midnight velvet asked over the gentle pattering sound of showering water.
Katze groaned, propping his left forearm against the shower wall and resting his brow against it while Raoul worked carefully upon his right shoulder. "It's not too ba— Aarghh! Ow... fuck...,"
Raoul clucked his tongue, shaking his head. "The truth please, Katze, if you would."
A sullen sigh met the Blondie's comment. "It hurts."
"Burning or cold?"
"Burning."
"Sullen or sharp?"
Another sigh, another stifled yelp of pain as Raoul's strong fingers found a new knot in his mate's damaged shoulder. "Sullen."
"Then I don't believe you've caused any additional damage," Raoul continued kneading knowing, partly by training and partly by instinct, where to direct the massage to be at its most efficacious. "But you really should have told me you were having pain much earlier than this. We could have avoided the muscles spasm altogether had you just—"
"I fucking know!" Katze snapped sharply at him, before heaving another sigh, visibly composing himself. "I know that, Raoul. I do," he added in a more even tone.
Raoul Am was not offended at all by his mate's shortness. Pain, especially the intense pain that Katze's was suffering right now, did have a way of sharpening one's tongue. Hopefully, he would only need to keep manipulating the seizing muscles for a few more minutes before the cramping flesh would unlock and his mate would have relief. Until then, Raoul understood better than most, all bets were off. If his mate wanted to curse a blue streak, then that was perfectly fine with him.
Blaine Dal. Curse his posthumous spirit. He knew that Katze actually felt somewhat sorry for the Platina, despite his terrible mistreatment at the man's clearly crazed hands. And, he supposed it was to his mate's credit that he had such a forgiving nature. But for Raoul, there was no room for clemency there. Ever. Blaine had hurt Katze to point where the injury would now linger on for life and for that Raoul Am would never pardon him, even in death.
A blind spot...? Quite possibly, Raoul reflected as he continued working, his rich mouth curving into a slow smile when he felt the rigidity in his Companion's body beginning to relax, heard the relief in the redhead's sigh as the troublesome muscles unlocked and became pliant under his massaging fingers.
It was a character flaw that he was prepared to live with, however.
Of course there was always the amniotic tanks; corrective surgery followed by immersion. But Katze, stubborn creature that he was, was holding fast against the notion; not wanting to be immersed and cut off from his work or his mate for any extended period.
It was relatively safe to say that negotiations on the matter were continuing.
"Better?" Raoul changed the level of massage application, gentling his touch and beginning to work with slow strokes of his palms upwards over the shoulder again and again.
"Ohhh, yeah," Katze breathed his reply in a voice filled with respite. "So much better. Thank you." He snorted softly. "Again."
"You are quite welcome."
"Sorry for swearing at you." Another pause... another soft and rueful chuckle. "Uh... again."
"You cursed? I hardly noticed." Gently, Raoul eased his hands down to Katze's lean waist, turning the mongrel around to face him and looking down upon his naked and quite startlingly beautiful pale body with open appreciation. "Now...," he literally purred as he moved in and slid one soapy hand down to grip the warm flesh at the apex of Katze's thighs, "I believe, that before we were so rudely interrupted by your muscle spasms, I was approximately here... doing this." He began to gently knead his mate's reawaking cock, tenderly coaxing back the erection that had been lost when the pain had struck with such vicious suddenness.
Katze gasped, arching his head back and moving sinuously into the caress, the skin of his face and neck blushing a delightful hue as the warmth of sexual arousal flooded back through him. "Oh that's right, yeah," he breathed, his striking golden eyes growing heavy lidded and heated. "You were concentrating quite hard on that, weren't you?"
"Mmm," Raoul gave his Companion a sparking green-eyed glance of mock innocence. "I will have you know that I am merely ascertaining the anatomy in question is well washed, that is all."
"Ah. That's what you're – oh! – doing," Katze swallowed hard and lifted his arms, carefully, but with no hindrance to his movement, Raoul noted with pleasure. Those clever fingers sank into the sodden mass of the Blondie's heavy hair, twining in tightly and pulling him in and down for a deep hot kiss, a warm wet tongue tickling teasingly along his own.
Raoul would never tire of it. Kissing this man.
Pulling back a little, he tightened his hold around Katze's shoulders, bracing himself to support his mate as he sped up the milking motions of his other hand, skillfully bringing the redhead rapidly towards release. He watched Katze's finely built face closely, enjoying the sight of his pleasure, the deepening flush on his cheeks, enjoying the slow sweet pulse between his own legs as his own body responded to the arousing spectacle. A few more moments, a concentrated application of stroking and a final firmly applied thumb gliding back and forth over glistening glans and Katze shuddered and came with a low cry, his seed pulsing in smooth arcs from his cock as Raoul eased him through the paroxysms.
As he held him close in the aftermath under the soothing warm spray of water, Raoul smiled and pressed his lips to the warm wet skin of Katze's shoulder. His Companion was free of discomfort, and was now relaxed after his first climax of the evening. This, of course, generally put him in a most equable mood, sexually.
And the hour was still early.
Life, Raoul mused contentedly as Katze purred a deeply satisfied chuckle into his ear and slid those clever hands downward to grab a double handful of beautiful Elite backside, could be very good indeed.
Oh yes, very good indeed.
In a darkened bedroom in the mid-levels of Eos Tower, soft sweet words, compelling and arousing, filled the warm air with whispered and fervent urgency. Other sounds, just as soft, but no less fascinating, joined this quiet and intensely focused harmony. The shifting of long limbs moving over cool crisp sheets, a caught breath, a low gasp, the sweet slick slide of flesh moving within flesh, the sensual sounds of lovers engaged in the ages-old dance that would result in fulfillment and release for both of them.
Working hard for it now, his broad chest heaving and his dark cobalt hair damp with sweat, Laron Tak thrust in a solid rhythm, moving inexorably closer to climax. Esra's gentle hands glided over him, stroking his shoulders, his chest, kneading the powerful muscles that bunched and flexed under his pale skin.
Under him, impaled upon the hot hard length of his cock, Esra strained with him, shifting one hand down to stroke his own achingly stiff member in a counter rhythm to achieve that perfect moment, that shared pinnacle of release and deep physical gratification so intensely good that it almost hurt, and which bound them invariably closer to each other every time they coupled. The sight of him, the way he gave himself over to his physical nature, the way he so unquestioningly handed himself into Laron's care every single time without doubt or hesitation, simply trusting that the Elite would get him there no matter what convoluted sensual play he might indulge in on the way... it both touched Laron deeply on an emotional level and aroused him beyond belief on a physical one.
He simply loved loving his mate. And he cherished that Esra loved it just as much.
Laron's deep blue eyes blazed with lust and adoration as he lifted up on to his hands, bracing his upper body while he ground his pelvis into the cradle of Esra's thighs, deep and hard, fucking his young Companion towards orgasm as if it were the most important thing in the universe.
Which, from his own particular and quite focused immediate perspective, it actually was.
"Uhhh, yes..." he growled the words, his normally silky voice husky and low with effort and his own rising ecstasy. "Ah, you're coming, Esra... I can feel it."
Beyond words, beyond anything other than the helpless sounds of need and desire, Esra scrunched his eyes shut, his beautiful face flushing deeply as his pleasure crested and peaked within his flesh, his muscles clenching and releasing in the sweetest of paroxysms. He cried out, the sound of his joy clear and honest and reaching deeply into his Sapphire's heart to draw him even closer.
The sight of him lost in his climax, the sweet sounds that he made and the musky heady scent of his semen as it pulsed hotly from his cock was as much as Laron's faltering control could take. With a low groan that seemed to rise up from his very soul, Laron pushed deeply into the tight and welcoming heat of Esra's flesh and stilled there, clasping the ex-Pet to his chest as his orgasm flooded through him. He spent himself in long luxurious surges, trembling through the peak, his striking eyes closing while his world narrowed down to nothing more than the utter bliss and perfection of this moment.
Not a care in the world. Not in Esra's arms.
As reality returned, as skin cooled and the post-climax shimmers gradually faded from their flesh, Laron opened his eyes and heaved a contented sigh, smiling when he noted that, as usual, Esra's dark gaze was pinned upon his face, focused on him closely. The slight flush still evident across his smooth cheeks indicated that he'd very much enjoyed what he'd just seen. Oddly, although Laron had found Esra's habit of this a little peculiar at first he now truly appreciated it, even delighting in the fact that his pleasure could give his young mate such joy.
Still, Laron grinned almost rakishly and propped himself up on one elbow, deeply enjoying the feeling of his naked skin pressed so warmly and intimately to Esra's, a little teasing never went astray. "You were staring again, weren't you?"
Esra's eyes widened innocently, although the wicked little twinkle that remained rather ruined the effect. "Who? Me?"
Laron chuckled, a low and pleasant sound. He leaned down, pressing a few soft kisses along the curve of Esra's graceful neck. "You sincerely like watching my expression at that particular moment, don't you?"
Utterly unrepentant, Esra quirked a pale skinned shoulder and nodded. "I do. You just..." he smiled, his face filled with enduring affection, "You just make the most beautiful face when you come, that's all. I like to see it."
Laron felt his grin soften. "Ah," he nodded, one dark brow arching wryly. "And... if I were to make a face like a choking primate instead..?" Esra snorted gracelessly before bursting out into laugher, the joyous sound filling the room for a moment. He pulled in a deep breath and shook his head, composing himself again. "Y'know, I'd probably want to see that one, too."
Shifting, carefully pulling out, Laron snickered again as he rolled onto his back and easily pulled Esra over and up onto his chest. He tangled their legs together, stroking his fingers down the length of his mate's body and cupping that sweet little rump with both hands. "Hmmm. No doubt you would, you utter sensualist, you."
"Oh, look who's talking," Esra propped his chin on his hands, looking into Laron's face from the vantage point of his chest. "Seriously, I just love everything about you. Even the silly bits."
Laron felt his brows lift. "I have 'silly bits'?"
"Oh yes."
"Might I just remind you, young man," the Sapphire replied with massive mock-piety, "that I am an Elite... and Elite's don't have 'silly bits'."
"Yes they do."
Laron tilted his head. "You're sure?"
"You do."
"Ah. Well then, it must be true." Laron shrugged amiably before wrapping his arms around Esra's midriff, giving him a squeeze until he heard a soft and muffled 'ooph' issue from somewhere low in his mate's chest. Smiling, he released his Companion from the bear hug, but kept his arms around him nevertheless, just in case the urge came upon him again. "How do you feel?" he asked softly, stroking a lingering hand gently down Esra's back once more.
"Squished," came the somewhat muffled reply.
"I meant," Laron tapped the top of Esra's head with one long finger, smiling when his Companion raised his face and looked at him, "how do you feel about everything that's going to happen? About me taking over Tahna's department." He gave a rueful shrug of one shoulder. "I suppose I am asking because in my own enthusiasm over the notion, I failed to even ask you what your thoughts were."
Esra looked seriously at him. "I'm very proud," he said softly, even somberly. "And I have every faith that you will succeed, and..." he smiled somewhat drolly, "in whatever small way that I can, I will help you with all of my heart and soul to make this work."
Deeply touched, thankful yet again to have this astonishingly loving and patient young creature as his mate, Laron lifted one hand and touched Esra's face, delicately stroking the smooth skin. "Did I ever tell you, Esra, why I nicknamed you 'dear-heart'?" he asked gently.
Tilting his head to one side, Esra laughed softly as he always did when his heard his moniker. "No. Why?"
Laron felt his expression grow very tender, very sincere. "Because you are," he answered quietly. "You really are. Your support... it means everything to me."
"I love you, Laron," Esra whispered, laying his head down over Laron's heart, his arms slipping around the Elite's shoulders and holding him tightly, "and I am yours for as long as I live."
Returning Esra's embrace, but gently now, Laron tucked his mate's head in under his chin, cuddling him close, cradling him almost reverently. "I'm sure I've told you this before, but I am just as much yours, Esra. I am just as much yours."
Replete, content, quiet in this perfect moment of stillness they simply rested; listening to each other's breathing, soaking up each other's warmth, letting this moment strengthen and renew them for what they both knew would be long and potentially difficult days ahead.
As long as they had this, Laron reflected serenely upon the cusp of a light dose, his long fingers gently stroking through Esra's silky hair... he would be able to handle anything his brethren wanted to throw at him, just as long as he still had this.
"...So you really think Laron can do this?" Riki carefully applied a small amount of toothpaste to his toothbrush and began the obligatory nighttime scrub.
"I do," Iason, already wearing rather fetching ice-grey satin sleepwear, replied in his deep satin voice as he rested one lean hip against the marble vanity unit and watched Riki going through his ablutions with mild interest. "In fact, I genuinely feel that Laron may very well just be the start to uncovering a rather large and as yet untapped resource of Elite talent."
Riki rinsed and spat, placing his toothbrush back in its holder. "Just out there waiting for their chance?"
"Yes. Something along those lines." Following the mongrel as he padded barefoot back into the bedroom, Iason smiled a smug little smile as he reached for the ivory comb set out on his bedside table. "Certainly I feel a certain public vindication of the reformation process is about to be witnessed."
Riki snorted with good humor, arching a knowing brow at his Companion. "God you're so attractive when you're self-satisfied, Iason, did you know that?"
Iason gave him a bland little look, shaking his hair out over one shoulder and lifting his comb. "One of my more useful character flaws, I believe."
"Shit," Riki chuckled amiably. "C'mere. Sit down." He reached for the comb, crawling onto their bed and patting a spot on the edge. "I'll do that for you."
Smiling his appreciation, Iason did as instructed. "That would be pleasant. Thank you."
"Easy duty," Riki scooted up behind Iason on his knees and began to smoothly drag the wide-toothed comb through the silky length Iason's pale hair, being careful not to wrench or pull too hard but carefully working out the day's tangles. "I like messing around with this stuff anyway," he murmured, stroking one hand over the impossibly soft strands.
Iason huffed a gentle laugh. "You always did, if I recall."
"Hmm. Well... some things don't change, as they say in the classics."
Iason nodded. "And some things do," he stroked his chin thoughtfully with the long fingers of one hand. "You have developed quite a friendship with Laron's mate, have you not?"
"Yeah," Riki pushed gently at the top of Iason's head, silently directing him to drop his chin as he worked at a particularly stubborn tangle. "Both Katze and I have."
"Perhaps, in light of the relationship you've already formed with young Esra, it might be apropos to issue a casual invitation to Laron for him and his Companion to join us for dinner here." Iason glanced over his shoulder, closely watching for Riki's response.
His mongrel, as expected, smiled with genuine enthusiasm. "Why not? You've already got so much in common with Laron Tak, anyway. And as for Esra... well he's a real easy kid to like, Iason," the Elite clearly heard the warmth in his mongrel's voice, "and he is just so incredibly in love with his Sapphire."
Arching a wry brow Iason twisted around, his pale eyes narrowing wickedly as he watched Riki ease the tangle out. "And you are not incredibly in love with your Blondie?"
"Just a sec—" Riki muttered, struggling with the comb. "Ohhkay, gotcha... you tricky little—" with one final maneuver, the tangle was gone and the comb slid smoothly through the pale curtain of hair once final time. Riki set it aside and looked up, meeting Iason's expectant gaze. "What I feel for you, Iason," he answered the original question in a low and serious voice, "goes so far beyond 'in love' that it just isn't funny."
"Oh?" Oddly moved, Iason touched Riki's face with gentle fingertips.
Riki nodded, his dark eyes filled with a complex mix of affection and gravity. "I don't know if I can say it right, but... you're so far inside me now, y'know? In the places of my heart that I didn't even know I had."
Iason remained silent and still for a long moment, considering his mate's words. At length he nodded, his expression smoothing out into profound serenity. "I believe you have expressed the sentiment very accurately," he murmured, easing a little closer to the dark haired mongrel who now formed the very foundation-stones of his existence. "I will confess I feel exactly the same."
"You do?"
"Of course I do." Iason lifted one hand, placing it on Riki's shoulder and gently pushing the younger man down on to his back. "You are dear to me, simply the most precious thing in my life."
"Wow," Riki's eyes grew soft and defenseless for a moment. "That's... actually for an Elite that was pretty fuckin' poetic."
Always amused by his Companion's turn of phrase, Iason gave him a bland smile. "Well, I was inspired."
"Mmm," Riki flashed a sultry little smile at him, his skin warming and his dark eyes becoming heated as he slid one hand down between their bodies to cup Iason's burgeoning erection, chuckling smugly when Iason grunted softly and immediately hardened to full arousal. "Yeah, I'm feeling kind of enthused myself."
"Oh good," Iason hunkered back and slid his hands up under Riki's rather well worn sleep shirt, pushing the fabric up to expose the far lovelier sight of his sleekly muscled golden-skinned chest. "In that case, perhaps we can share a few motivational techniques as we go along?"
"You read my mind," Riki reached up and drew the Blondie back down to him, hooking one leg around the back of Iason's thighs and bringing their erection into delicious alignment. "You absolutely read my mind."
Venting another deep chuckle, Iason relaxed into his mongrel's warm embrace, giving himself over the complete and unparalleled joy of loving his Companion. Even as they began the first delightful steps towards physical completion, Iason found his formidable mind revisiting Riki's earlier words. It was very true. Riki was irrefutably intertwined with Iason Mink now, in his life, his heart and soul; in his very sense of self Riki was there. He simply could not contemplate life without his mate now, could not bear to think upon what a grey and lonely existence it would be.
Fortunately, to his profoundly deep and everlasting gratitude, he didn't have to.
In this unguarded and solitary moment Kyle Li sighed softly with a mixture of relief and weariness as he closed the report portfolio with a certain air of finality. He made a few brief notes in his appointment journal for later redress and rose gracefully to his full height. He tilted his head to one side, pondering his state of mind even as he stretched a little, placing both hands at the small of his long back and arching to ease the taut muscles there. For some reason that he really could not define, his earlier feeling of tension had returned to him. He felt irritable and even restless. But he could not put his finger on why, and this was inevitably leaving him feeling more out of sorts than ever.
Striding from his office, he crossed the main area of the apartment at a leisurely enough pace, heading towards the rear rooms where Deel generally kept an eye on Kyle's Pets while the little creatures amused themselves with whatever it was Pets did when they weren't performing their primary function of diverting their Elite Masters. He had three in the household at the moment; two previously purchased some few months ago and a recent arrival, a pretty little male newly released for sale by the Academy.
He was the first of what Kyle liked to think of as the 'new' category of Pet, the ones that had been trained for their role following Iason Mink's introduction of Jupiter's social reforms; the Pets that had been given a bit more education, who were aware that they had some rights, limited though they might be whilst under an Elite's ownership.
In truth, Kyle might not have even bothered with him but for the fact that his appearance had been so pleasing. Whether he would be an asset or a hindrance to the household during his time here would remain to be seen, the Elite supposed. There were still many of the earlier trained breeds of Pet readily available at Mistral. This one could always be returned.
Walking into the little common area at the far rear of the spacious apartment which connected the Pet's tiny private rooms, Kyle glanced around at them all, seated as they were here and there upon their low divans under Deel's watchful eyes; awaiting Kyle's pleasure, his orders or his indifference.
Surely it was all the same to them, Kyle mused, absently noting their perfection, their sullen little expressions so carefully assumed, each so alike to the other... noting their blandness.
Peripherally, a metallic glimmer caught his attention and he glanced sideways at Deel, where the Furniture had been carefully polishing and re-boxing the selection of stunningly bejeweled and vastly expensive collars that Kyle's stylish sense of aesthetics demanded his Pets wore on most public occasions. He noted a particular one, his sharp gaze taking in the delicate plait of silver interwoven with precious stones. It was, he could admit, quite a lovely piece of work.
It was also familiar. Jarringly so for some reason.
"Deel," Kyle frowned at the fragile looking thing, "that collar..."
In an instant, Deel was at his Master's side. "The silver braid, Master Kyle?"
"Yes," Kyle reached out with one elegant hand, picking up the beautiful item and inspecting it closely. For some unfathomable reason, he felt oddly compelled by the collar, by the fact that it had even drawn his attention.
"If Sir Kyle recalls," Deel offered diffidently, "this one was most often worn by your recently 'retired' Pet, Sash. He was partial to it," as always when discussing such matters, the Furniture's tone was quite indifferent.
Which was gratifying, Kyle thought as he turned to look at his ever-faithful and obedient Furniture. That was exactly as things should be.
Obviously noting his Master's silence and considering his interest in the object, Deel raised an enquiring brow at him, his expression politely questioning. "Ah. Would Sir Kyle like to see it on one of the other Pets?" he asked lightly. "Perhaps the newest acquisition?" he waved a hand at the lovely creature that lay draped across his divan, affecting an appearance of sensuality and sultry allure while the entire time, Kyle saw quite clearly, his dark eyes were unable to completely hide his anxiety.
Kyle looked at the boy, tilting his head in a vaguely puzzled way, as if he had never seen him before. He was exquisite. The Elite could not deny that. Dark eyes, dark hair, pale soft smooth skin. A beautiful body and a perfectly gorgeous face. Seeing him mounted and brought to climax by one or even both of Kyle's other Pets would indeed be a delightful performance.
If Kyle could summon up enough interest to care one way or the other, that was. Oddly enough, tonight the idea just did not move him. Nor did the comeliness of his newest Pet.
Nor did anything really, the thought inexplicably occurred to him.
"No," Kyle murmured at length, handing the collar to Deel. "No," he repeated flatly, nodding almost with distaste at the glittering object. "Get rid of it. Destroy it. It has no place here anymore."
The slightest whisper of surprise entered Deel's eyes, but he masked it well enough. "Of course, Master Kyle, I will see to at once. Do you require anything more?"
"No," Kyle cast one final sweeping glance over his Pets, that same little frown still creasing his pale brow. "I will retire for the evening. It has been quite a long day."
"Very good, Master Kyle."
The Elite nodded perfunctorily as he turned towards the door. "Ensure that I am not disturbed."
Once more, Deel bowed his head. "Of course, Sir."
Kyle swept from the room without further word, crossing the main area and entering the rather grand master bedroom. He approached the large bed that dominated the space, slowly unfastening his fine silk shirt, pulling the tails from his fitted black pants. Then he stilled for a long moment, staring sightlessly ahead at the far wall of the room, a deeply preoccupied expression on his flawless face.
Oddly, and most uncharacteristically, considering his normal iron clad composure, he was beset by the strangest feeling. It was an uncomfortable sensation, both nebulous and unfamiliar... the idea that somehow, he had overlooked or forgotten something.
That something important was... missing?
With a tiny grimace Kyle shook his head, dismissing the notion as the ridiculous fancy that it was. Nonsense... such thoughts. He was an Elite. He did not overlook details. Mere fatigue; that was all it was. The last few days, after all, had indeed contained their vexing moments.
A decent night of repose was all he needed.
Yes. Kyle nodded to himself, satisfied that he had found the answer to his unusual disposition. Rest. Undisturbed and tranquil. He needed nothing else.
Nothing.
The journey itself... – chapter 22 << >> The journey itself... – chapter 24