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The trunk was large and heavy, carried between four blank-faced Fereldan templars. Danarius sipped his wine thoughtfully, then held the glass out to be refilled by his pet 'little wolf', looking questioningly at his guest.

"A precaution," his guest said with a vague gesture, and the templars sat the trunk down. It was locked from the outside. "My countrymen ask less questions of large boxes than they do of apprentices wandering outside the tower. Irving thinks we're on a bit of a research trip into the woods near Amaranthine."

"This is the boy you spoke of?" the magister asked, as the trunk was unlocked and opened by the templars. He sat up a little in his chair, peeking over the edge of the container at the barest hint of pale skin. "Did you make the preparations I instructed?"

"Of course," Uldred's tone was silky, "and our agreement?"

The boy in the box slowly got to his knees, blinking hard in the light. Despite his time spent locked away, he was immaculately clean -- Uldred's other thralls had seen to that a short ways away from their meeting place.

"Bring him to me," Danarius set his wineglass aside, and gestured lazily at his bodyguard, who stepped forward to obey. One gauntleted hand fisted in the boy's white-gold hair and hauled him upright, guiding him roughly into stepping out of the trunk, and bringing him forward. Danarius smiled at this, eyes half-lidding. His little wolf knew how to fetch.

"Here, on my lap," he patted his thigh, and was pleased when the thrall straddled his legs without making Fenris position him further, sinking gracefully onto his lap once the guard released his hair. The boy was more muscular than most mages his age in the 'free' countries, but Danarius already knew that Uldred had encouraged the young elf's fitness. It suited him; he wore the bulk of added muscle with the sleek grace of a jungle cat. To make him lose that muscle would have meant marring his beauty.

"Master," the boy murmured rather demurely, vivid blue eyes properly downcast. He didn't feel particularly heavy on Danarius' thighs, and the magister ran the fingertips of one hand over his borrowed toy's exquisitely smooth skin, tweaking a nipple in passing. It immediately pebbled, though the boy didn't so much as twitch. He just sat, passive, legs spread to straddle Danarius', all pale perfection atop the magister's dark robes. Even his cock, which was appropriately hard, was pleasing to the eye and yet quite easy to ignore, because the boy didn't fidget or shift in place.

Remarkable, considering where the boy was from. At his age -- late teens, wasn't it? -- even a house-bred slave from Tevinter would have been pressed to remain quite so still. That this was a reasonably fresh thrall... ah, well, boys like this one only proved that some people were simply born to be owned. This one had clearly been created with abject servitude running thick in his blood. To deny him the pleasure of being owned would be a sin, indeed.

"You have trained him quite well, Uldred," Danarius picked up his glass and took a thoughtful sip, "and in so little time. Once I've stripped and bound his memory properly for you, I daresay he will be perfection itself. Fenris..." it was in the same lazy, pleased tone, "I wish to see you rut him."

Danarius parted his thighs to make the boy's spread further in turn, smiling with pleasure as his little wolf immediately moved to obey, drawing himself out of his clothing and half-kneeling between Danarius' boots. The magister toyed with his wineglass as he watched the boy's face; watched his eyelashes flutter as he blinked, his lips part a little as he breathed... and his breathing hitch just so as Fenris unceremoniously thrust up and in with a soft grunt, sheathing himself to the root inside the boy's already-lubed entrance. Fenris was blessed with a lovely bit of cock, Danarius knew... it was quite blunt and thick, perfect for taking some of the pretense out of a too-lovely boy.

"Continue, little wolf," Danarius crooned, twirling his wineglass lazily between his fingertips, "fill him for me. And it would please me if you could make him cry out." And to the boy, he added, "I will make you regret it if you cry out, my borrowed pet. I will make you regret it most painfully. Do not disappoint."

The magister leaned back in his seat and nursed his wine, enjoying the animalistic growls and snarls from his little wolf as he savagely fucked the blond boy, who didn't even flinch when Fenris' gauntlets closed around his hips and the sharp points dug into his pale skin, drawing rich drops of blood. No, all the other elf did was tip his head back to bare his throat to Danarius, countering each of Fenris' thrusts just enough to keep the force of it from jarring Danarius' wineglass.

"It's almost a pity one of them isn't a girl," Danarius sighed to Uldred, as though they spoke of their favorite horses, "I would breed them, they are so lovely together. Your boy is a natural... he is simply wasted as a mage."

"Indeed," Uldred smiled a nasty little smile at the picture presented, "well, you'll have him for two weeks. If you have a female slave you favor, feel free to put him to stud. I don't care."

"Oh? Splendid," the magister mulled, already thinking of prospects and how quickly he could possibly get some of them shipped over from Tevinter. This little meeting was taking place in Amaranthine, in secret, and the trip was a long one. A pity. "Don't throw this one off the tower, Uldred. I will pay you his weight in gold when you retire him. This is a rare little creature you have tamed."

They spoke for a while longer, hammering out the details of their current deal, and then Uldred left. Danarius took some of the wine from his glass and flicked it into Fenris' face over the boy's shoulder. The slave snarled with effort redoubled at the unspoken command, the lyrium brands flickering with light, boosting his strength as he spilled himself inside the thrall in a series of teeth-jarringly savage thrusts.

The boy cried out, loudly, crystal clear in the large room.

Danarius smiled. "We are going to have such fun, you and I."

- - - - -

"Shhh, shhh, it isn't that bad, now is it little skylark?" Danarius asked softly, even though the thrall wasn't resisting his torture. "I asked you a question."

The thrall was on the table, his limbs bound in an excruciatingly lovely position by only the thinnest gossamer strings. If he so much as twitched wrong, or relaxed a single sublime muscle, they would snap. He trembled with effort, a fine sheen of sweat gleaming on his pale skin. "No, Master," the thrall's tone was soft, "thank you, Master."

"Mmm, so well-behaved," Danarius ran a fingertip down the thrall's impossibly-arched stomach, stopping just short of the hard, swollen cock that stood up and out with appreciation, "I truly don't want to give you back, little skylark, little... Tannusen..."

Ah, his name made the thrall suck in a small, startled breath, as though he'd thought Danarius wouldn't know it; wouldn't know who he was in polite society despite his low status as a Circle apprentice. As though Uldred would not have filled him in on all the pertinent details, and quite a few others besides. Danarius smiled, leaning down as if to sample the scent of a rose, giving the boy's pristine cock a slow, deliberate suck. The thrall trembled harder, almost hard enough to break the strings, and Danarius tongued his slit thoughtfully before straightening back up.

"I am told you cannot climax without an order from your Master," he said conversationally, "that would be me right now, would it not?"

"Yes, Master," the boy whispered.

"Do you want to come, little skylark?" Danarius gave the tip of his cock a hard flick with his fingertip, watching it sway from side to side and twitch with blood-flow. "Hmm?"

"No, Master," the thrall's whisper was a little ragged, now.

"Truly?" the magister considered this information, then leaned down so that he spoke right in the boy's daintily-pointed ear, "Do you wish to never come, my pet?"

"Please," the boy's tortured, soft voice was full of the most delicious reverence, "never."

"Elaborate for me," Danarius was admittedly intrigued, and he ran the back of a finger up and down the underside of the thrall's cock, amusing himself with the way it pulsed and twitched, obviously right on the edge of climax and unable to attain it. Ah, but it had to be getting quite painful.

"I wish to serve," said the thrall, his voice choked with pleasure-pain as Danarius wrapped his fingers around him and stroked, fast and hard, "I live to serve my Master! My torment, my pain, for you."

"My goodness, but you've been taught well," the magister paused to thumb the tip of his prize, gathering the drops of precum. He beckoned Fenris over, and fed the droplets to the armored elf, who placidly licked his thumb clean for him in a few swipes of his warm, soft tongue. "Don't you agree, Fenris?"

"Of course, Master," Fenris agreed, expression neutral. As much as he openly adored his Master, ordinarily, he often grew shuttered and quiet whenever Danarius indulged with another. Perhaps it was time for his little wolf to be taken down a peg, as well...

"Taste him, my pet," the magister ordered, sliding his hand around behind Fenris' head and pulling him forward and down, toward the thrall's over-stimulated cock. He watched intently as Fenris lapped at the other's shaft, making the boy shiver in place. Would he break the strings? "You can do better than that, Fenris," Danarius chided him, letting go of the back of the warrior's head. "I will make you a deal, my pet. Make him break his bonds, and I will give you a treat."

Fenris' ears twitched at that, and Danarius smiled broadly, stepping back. "That's right," he crooned, "your training versus his in a little... competition. Go on, my dear. Make me proud." And he settled into his chair to watch, pleased with his own ability to manipulate his bodyguard. He didn't need to thrall Fenris, the elf was so pliant, so easily molded to his whims.

And that boy, the thrall... Danarius watched his face as Fenris licked his length, watched him breathe in and out as slowly as he could to avoid breaking the spiderweb-thin strings. Just holding his position, curled backwards over his own limbs, was excruciating without any support... how much torture was it to have Fenris' skilled tongue swirling over his tip?

And it was a very skilled tongue, of course. Danarius would have it no other way. He smiled fondly at his servant, shifting his attention back to Fenris' task as the warrior took the thrall in his mouth properly, sliding the flared head of the boy's cock slowly between his lips...

He was a pleasure to watch at work. Danarius poured his own wine, content to let his guard continue his task uninterrupted. The magister toyed with the glass for a while, watching Fenris swallow the thrall by half-inches; the blond boy shivered and trembled lightly, but the only real movement was his throat as he swallowed, hard, as Fenris took the rest of him.

"He has an exquisite mouth, doesn't he?" Danarius asked, pleased to note the flash of pride in his wolf's expression as his master conversed with the thrall. "Very supple, and so warm."

"Yes, Master," came the whispered reply, the boy obviously not trusting himself to speak louder.

"Speak to me at a normal volume, little skylark," Danarius chided, "I've named you for a songbird; I wish to hear you sing. Now, what was that?"

"Y-yes, Master," the boy's voice was choked with concentration and... ah, there it was, like a sweet aftertaste all of its own: pain. Just as Uldred had claimed, just a glimpse of the boy's anguish was delicious. The pleasure of peeling back his defenses to find more of it was going to be payment all in itself. And there was no mistaking it; the boy's perfect obedience was a defense all of its own. If he didn't have to speak, he didn't have to think, and if he didn't have to think, he didn't have to accept any of what was happening.

Danarius smiled to himself. Uldred had found and trained an excellent toy, but it was Danarius who would make a proper thrall of him. "Describe what it feels like, my pet," he prompted with deceptive gentleness, "my wolf should hear how you appreciate his work."

"It feels... good?" the thrall tried, though he had to gasp in a shallow breath mid-way through the sentence, as Fenris began to bob his head, his cheeks hollowed with suction and his eyes gleaming with an almost hostile intensity. A pity the boy couldn't see it, arched like he was... Fenris had truly gorgeous eyes, and they were simply stunning when he was being aggressive.

"You can do so much better than that, little skylark," Danarius scolded, rising from his seat and approaching, enjoying the brief look of apprehension on the thrall's face. Good, he should be wary when he made a mistake. "In detail, if you please. Describe how what he is doing to you feels. Are his lips soft? Tight? Is his tongue hot? Is it pressing just so?" The magister ran a fingertip down the smooth column of the thrall's arched throat, lowering his voice, "...How does it feel whenever you slide into the back of his throat, hm?"

"It... ah..." the boy's voice was ragged with pleasure-pain, "his mouth is so w-warm, Master. H-his tongue is like fire--!" he all but yelped the last word, and Danarius glanced over to see that Fenris had slipped a gauntlet off his hand and inserted a finger halfway inside the thrall's entrance, still slick with the slave's own earlier spend.

"I didn't give you permission to finger him, Fenris," Danarius scolded gently, "remove that at once."

The warrior obeyed instantly, which made his current prey gasp in a sharp breath at the sudden absence. Danarius stepped around the table to Fenris' side, examining the results. A few drops of Fenris' seed had spilled from the thrall and onto the table due to the slave's actions, despite the tight clench of the boy's hole.

The magister slid his fingers into Fenris' soft white hair and pulled him away from the thrall's cock, which was revealed to be slick and quite clearly painfully hard from Fenris' efforts... it had swollen further than earlier. Danarius eyed it thoughtfully as it twitched in the air, and then pushed his slave's face against the table. "I won't have you staining the table with your sloppiness, Fenris. Clean that up."

If Fenris slid the side of his face between the boy's delicately-bound thighs and stretched his tongue enough, as he was doing now on Danarius' order, he could just barely lap the drops of his own cum from the wooden surface. "Good boy," the magister cooed, "that's a good little wolf. Now, back to your work..."

The slave did as he was told, swallowing the thrall's cock back down again in one swift movement that had the boy gasping, jerking once in surprise and -- yes -- snapping several of the strings over his body.

"Oh, good Fenris," Danarius chuckled, "very clever of you to surprise him like that. Would you like your treat now?"

The slave released his prize again, looking quite proud of himself. "If it pleases you, Master," Fenris' voice was a little rough from taking the thrall's cock down his throat. As deep as his voice usually was, the added roughness suited him marvelously.

"I thought to have you fuck him again," the magister mused aloud, reaching out to idly run his fingertips up and down the blond boy's stomach. To his credit, the thrall hadn't tried to move despite several of his ties breaking, even though he had to be in excruciating agony from holding his position for so long, "but looking at him after he'd had you sucking on him... I think it would be a waste to not make use of his cock. Don't you agree, Fenris?"

"As you say, Master," Fenris had the grace to not sound dubious, at least. Danarius smiled fondly at him.

"Strip and prepare yourself on the bed, my little wolf," the magister ordered, snapping the strings across the thrall's body one by one with a fingertip. The skin under his touch was silk-smooth and trembling. "You may relax for a time," he said to the blond, "we wouldn't want you cramping up in the middle of this, now would we?"

The thrall obediently rearranged himself to ease strained and exhausted muscles, not daring to get off the table. Danarius wrapped his fingers around the boy's cock and stroked, slowly, smiling with pleasure when the elf gave a pained whimper at the over-stimulation before he could stifle the sound.

"There's no need to hide your pain, sweet skylark," Danarius crooned, still stroking, "it makes me burn so. And you owe me a description," he slowed his hand, squeezing harder, his grip slicked by Fenris' earlier work. "Tell me how this feels, you lovely creature. Sing for me."

"It hurts," the boy gasped, his eyes wide. "It's t-too much, Master please--"

"Hm?" the magister prompted, his free hand slipping finally to the ties of his own clothing, parting the exotic silks of his robes and drawing himself free. It was gratifying to see the thrall's eyes widen, a little, as he finally got a glimpse of his Master's cock. A little bit of magic and a few dead slaves had, many years ago, enhanced Danarius, because what was a man's cock if not the symbol of his power?

"Please, Master," the thrall whispered, squirming under the magister's still-stroking hand, "i-it's like you've tore the skin off me, it hurts so much... please..."

"Please what?" Danarius smiled lazily, and glanced over at Fenris on the bed he'd had brought into the great hall upon arrival. The slave had obeyed orders, and lay on the bed naked and prepared, watching intently as his Master tortured the other elf.

"Don't stop," the boy gasped, as Danarius squeezed him hard enough to hurt even under normal circumstances. At his words, the magister released him, and the thrall slumped in place on the table.

"Go," Danarius ordered, pointing at Fenris. "On the bed with you, worship him."

The thrall climbed off the table on wobbling legs and stumbled to the bed, crawling on and immediately nuzzling at the slave's inner thigh, licking and kissing his way up along smooth skin and embedded lyrium alike, making Fenris hiss in a breath and spread his legs further in invitation. The slave's cock was hard and pristine, throbbing gently with his heartbeat.

"Someday," the magister mused aloud as he watched them, sitting back down to finish his wine, "I will own you both. Won't that be nice, Fenris?"

"O-of course, Master," Fenris agreed instantly, naturally.

"If you're a good boy, maybe I'll give him to you when I grow bored of him," Danarius said thoughtfully, the hand not touching his wineglass stroking slowly at his own cock. They were a lovely sight, these two. "Wouldn't you like to own your own thrall, Fenris dear?"

Fenris had to agree with his Master, of course. His actual thoughts on the matter were irrelevant, assuming he even had any. "Yes, Master," the warrior groaned softly as the thrall sucked on the sensitive skin where a lyrium line crossed a nerve on the inside of his thigh.

The boy was very, very good. Whatever Uldred lacked in imagination in training his thrall, he at least made up for in making the boy practice his work until it was perfected.

"Ass in the air while you work, little thrall," Danarius took a sip of his wine, his stroking slow and languorous. "Display yourself for me."

The blond did as ordered, even going so far as to reach back with a hand and grab one buttock, pulling it to the side to better show off his clenching little hole to his Master. Danarius stroked himself a little faster, staring intently at the tight little ring he'd soon wring himself dry within.

"Continue," he breathed, setting his wineglass down. Fenris spread his own legs wider with a soft moan as the boy worked his way up higher, balanced precariously on one arm as he lowered himself further to lave his tongue against the slave's tight sac. "Ahh, beautiful," Danarius whispered to himself, watching Fenris' hips shift and rise as his stomach clenched in time with the thrall's tongue against him.

Wine completely forgotten and cock finally hard enough to begin to throb in his hand, Danarius rose from his seat and approached the bed, sliding his hands over both elves' bodies as Fenris strained and arced and Tannusen, the pretty little skylark, pleasured him.

"Enough foreplay," Danarius sighed, climbing onto the bed himself, finally. He brushed the thrall's hand away from his ass, gripping it in his own instead and squeezing both halves. It was delightfully firm. "Make love to him, my pet. Slowly."

A far cry from Danarius' order earlier in the day to have Fenris rut the thrall, his order to the boy was meant to draw things out. Slower and hotter and -- ah, of course, agonizing for such an over-sensitive cock being stroked by Fenris' delightfully-tight entrance. The boy seemed to realize this too, shuddering from pain mixed with pleasure as he lined himself up with Fenris' oiled hole and pressed slowly, slowly into him, hissing in a breath between his teeth as he did so.

Fenris tipped his head back against the pillows, throat working as he swallowed, lifting his legs off the bed to make himself easier to slide deeper into. He had to know the torture his own body provided the boy, too. Did it excite him, like it did Danarius?

Not that it mattered, because oh, did it excite Danarius. The thrall continued to slide, agonizingly-slowly, into the bodyguard, and the shudder turned into a soft tremor. Danarius leaned closer to hear the oh-so-quiet whimper from the thrall's throat. That he was still so amazingly hard meant that it wasn't all pain, which would have rendered him useless, but it was obviously mostly pain, swollen and flushed as he was. The mixture was delicious.

"All the way in, my dear," Danarius crooned, "it will take all of you to even hope to pleasure my slave, you worthless slut."

At that last word, the boy gasped, his hips jerking forward the last inch. Interesting. Danarius slid forward and pressed himself against the boy's ass and back, keeping him from backing out, enjoying the way he trembled back against him. "You like being spoken to of your place, don't you, little skylark? Truly?"

"Yes, Master," the thrall gasped out. "Truly."

Danarius said nothing, sliding his hands down the boy's sides, then up and around in front of him, enjoying the play of his strong abs under his fingers as the thrall trembled between Master and slave. The magister's cock was also trapped, with soft silk of his clothing on one side and the firm but even softer flesh of one of the boy's buttocks on the other. The elf was very warm, even on the outside. And so smooth.

He positioned Fenris' legs himself, nearly bending his lithe bodyguard in half, and then pushed the thrall down over him. The change in angle tore a quiet sound from the boy's throat, shuddering with the intensity of even the smallest stroke.

Danarius was slow to harden, but not in the habit of denying himself once he was there. Now that he was firm and throbbing, he wouldn't wait further to feel the inside of his borrowed toy. He slid a hand between himself and that firm, smooth rear, and guided his tip to that clenching little ring. And clenching it was. If the boy stopped deliberately doing so, he'd make a mess, and he was already well-trained enough to know better than to make a mess.

After all, he was still full of Fenris' seed from earlier.

What marvelous control he had over himself, for a creature with ultimately no control at all.

Danarius thrust forward with a grunt, feeling the resistance of that ring trying to keep him out and then the moment when it failed and he slid gloriously in; the way still slicked from being rutted by his little wolf. The magister thrust halfway in and then paused, enjoying the way the boy's hole protested and resisted by squeezing him in little, unintentional pulses.

"Continue, little lark," Danarius ordered quite softly, holding still, "show me you are at least good enough to pleasure my slave."

The thrall moved obediently, pulling back -- and impaling himself further on Danarius' cock as he did so. But he was smart enough not to stop, and thrust gently forward again, filling Fenris once more and then back, slowly fucking himself on his Master even as he strove to service a mere slave.

"Worthless little thing," Danarius cooed, sliding his hands over the boy's back, enjoying the smoothness of young elven skin. The thrall was in his late teens, he knew, but he was in such wonderful condition. Did Uldred make him bathe in oil? Every bit of his skin was smooth and soft, stretched over taut, firm muscle. He didn't particularly want to give him back at all, truth be told, but Uldred was a valuable source of information who was worth more than even the most pleasing toy. For now. Keeping tabs on what the Fereldan Circle -- and thus the Fereldan branch of the Chantry -- was doing had real, tangible use far above and beyond a lovely young body to wrap around his cock.

The boy continued to obey, rolling his hips in a sinuous motion that had Fenris gasping raggedly and curling his toes, large green eyes starting to truly glaze over with pleasure. Danarius didn't reward his little wolf with such a treat often; he had such a delightfully sensitive hole that he usually reserved it only for himself, and only occasionally at that. It seemed a waste to use it too often and spoil the novelty of it.

Every back-thrust continued to impale the boy on Danarius' own flesh, slow to stir and slow to climax at his age, but that only made these games all the better. The boy hadn't even taken all of him in yet; Danarius was patient. He leaned back a little onto his shins to watch that tight, abused ring sliding around him, running his hands over Tannusen's smooth hips and then gripping tight enough to hamper the rolling motion that had been driving Fenris mad.

Not so patient after all, perhaps. "Take all of me, little skylark," Danarius ordered. The boy obediently began pressing back against him, trembling. The tinniest of little whimpers escaped his throat, and Danarius smiled lazily. "Does it hurt, pretty lark? Am I too much for your little hole? Why... you aren't even leaking from earlier, you grip me so tightly."

"Y-yes Master," the boy was practically sweating from the torment, between his over-stimulated cock being gripped by Fenris' hole and the considerable, exaggerated size of Danarius pressing into him, he was very nearly overwhelmed. "Th-than you, Master." So very well-trained in servitude, he was.

"You will take far larger than me, before I return you to your owner," Danarius decided to inform him of some small portion of his fate. The dread would be sweet, especially while he was wrapped around the magister's cock. "I am going to unravel that pittance of blood magic in your mind and replace it with something much more potent. And do you know how we cast the most potent of spells, sweet lark?"

"No, Master," the boy was breathless with his task. "I know nothing."

Danarius tightened his hold on the thrall's hips and pulled, seating himself fully inside the blond elf. The boy cried out, sharp, in both pain and surprise and... yes, a note of pleasure even still. He was meant to be used, and Uldred had stamped that firmly into his mind. But still... "With the help of demons, of course," Danarius ground forward into him, enjoying the tight ring's little clenches and shudders around his girth.

"In fact," the magister purred into his pale, pointed ear, "I'm going to let a demon mount, you." The magister found himself groaning softly, delighting at the way the boy clenched up at the words, like a vice around his cock. Dread, anticipation, and best of all... fear. It was sublime. "More than one, perhaps," he added with a lazy smile, pressed almost affectionately into the side of the boy's neck, "Whatever it takes to... satisfy my end of the bargain."

Fenris was watching them both, eyes widening. Danarius smiled at him over the thrall's shoulder. "Won't that be fun to watch, my pet?"

"Of course, Master," Fenris averted his gaze, ever the proper slave. It made Danarius quite proud, and reminded him that they were in the middle of rewarding his prized possession. He released the thrall's hips and settled into place to watch.

"Back to work," he ordered lazily, "my little wolf is still hungry, aren't you, Fenris?"

"Yes, M-Master," the blond resuming his movements had such an immediate effect on Fenris, and Danarius cooed his approval at them both, enjoying the tight slide and ripple over his own length with every move Tannusen made to pleasure the young warrior. Grinding back against Danarius' hips with every back-thrust; sliding that tight ring partially down his length with every roll forward, and then back up again. The angle rubbed his shaft against that swollen lump inside the boy, already so extremely over-stimulated. If Danarius shifted like so... ah yes, the boy whimpered, high and sweet, but did not cease striving to please the slave beneath him.

That earlier clench of fear and horror, though... that was what Danarius enjoyed most when he took someone like this pretty little thrall. Now that he'd had a little taste, he was loathe to deny himself more. Slowly, caressing those rolling hips between his hands all the while, he mentally reached into the boy and found the threads of lesser blood magic that Uldred had woven around his mind. It was decent work, if one wanted it to be temporary, but not lasting. A pluck here, and a tug there...

The thrall gasped in a sharp breath, going still. Not a thrall any more, for the moment, he was just coming out of the fog to find himself in his current predicament. How much did he remember about the last few hours? The last few years? Danarius gripped the hips in his hands and pulled most of the way out before thrusting back in with enough force to make the stunned boy seat himself in Fenris to the hilt. Back out, pulling him with, and then forward again, groaning luridly into the room as he began his own rhythm.

"Wha--" Oh, the boy was starting to resist. Clenching up around him, trying not to move.

"Fenris, dear, take his hands and make sure he can't take them back," Danarius purred, thrusting home just a bit harder this time, "our pretty lark is having second thoughts."

"D-don't--" Tannusen gasped, trying to pull away from Fenris as the warrior obeyed, closing strong fingers around the young mage's wrists. Pulling back from Fenris, of course, pushed him up into Danarius, who wrapped an arm around his waist to keep control of him, forcing the boy down under his weight, driving him into Fenris at an increasing pace.

"Go ahead and struggle," the magister laughed, wrapping his other hand around the boy's throat. "Go on, beg me to stop. I order you to fight me until I fill you."

The boy was obedient, of course, whether he wished to be or not. He struggled, and squirmed, and shoved, and at one point even bit the elf beneath him, and none of it mattered at all. It delighted Danarius, who made it his goal to wring every cry and curse and oath he could out of the boy. He didn't start begging for Danarius to stop until after his body had done as it must in his state without blood magic to hold it back, and climaxed hard, deep into Fenris. The boy sobbed as he came, and Danarius only fucked him harder after, pounding into hyper-sensitive, abused flesh.

A touch of blood magic to the boy's cock kept him hard -- and in shrieking, pleading, mind-numbing agony -- so that the motion continued to bring the slave under them both pleasure as well. "P-please stop, please..." his voice was even sweeter when it was choked in pain and terror. Danarius shut his eyes to listen closely as he took him. That little hitch of hopeless despair made his balls feel tighter and hotter. "S-stop, hurts... no... n-no..."

"Open your eyes, Fenris," Danarius ordered, re-opening his own eyes once the boy's words had faded into only the sound of crying. "Look at him. This is what freedom does to someone who was born to serve. So very sad, isn't it?"

"Y-yes M-Master," Fenris' eyes, opened, locked on the boy. Danarius was holding him up, by this point; all the fight was drained out of him already, just a pliant toy between them, moving only how Danarius drove him to with his own hips.

"Think of how happy he will be once I've fixed his mind again," Danarius purred at the slave, "and come."

The slave obeyed, gasping and arching his back, and Danarius drove the boy into him harder and faster until it wrung a cry from both elves, one of release and the other of sweet, piercing agony as he was gripped so very hard. When the magister shoved the young mage down onto the warrior, chest to chest, the skin between them was slick with Fenris' seed.

"Hold him while I finish up, Fenris," Danarius cooed, "comfort him. After all, he may be yours one day."

Fenris obediently wrapped his arms around the blond's body, murmuring something inaudible to him in a low, quiet voice. The boy barely seemed to hear, just sobbing silently into Fenris' shoulder while Danarius took a new grip on him, spreading his buttocks apart with both hands to watch how he was gripped even now, so tight and delicious. A dozen or so more thrusts, seasoned with the way the boy trembled with pain and fear around him, and Danarius finally let out a long, low groan that filled the large hall with his voice, spurting deep inside the helpless young mage.

Only once he began to soften did he withdraw and stretch out beside the two elves, drained. It almost wasn't worth the effort to slip the threads of weak magic back around the boy's mind, but he did so anyway. It would keep him under control, and from being a nuisance. He even took some slight pity and released the hold his magic had on the boy's cock, letting it finally begin to soften where it had remained seated deep in Fenris. It wouldn't be proper to damage him unduly.

Tannusen immediately went lax and quiet when the magic found its target, once again the compliant toy.

Danarius reached over to card his fingers through Fenris' hair. "Good boy," he praised the slave, whose pleasure at the words and gesture was plain to see. The warrior leaned up into the touch and smiled. Danarius smiled back, slow and lazy, and then rolled onto his back to let his servants clean him up, dozing off soon after with thoughts of all he would do with the boy over two weeks of time. He would need to buy some local stock, too... the boy was too lovely to pass up the opportunity to breed him.