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Bath Time

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The Castle of Uruk's master bathroom was exquisite in every detail; the painted walls, the racks upon racks of oils, ungents, and bath salts surrounding the sunken bath large enough to accommodate a dozen mortal men. Rose petals floated on the surface, their scent almost but not entirely masked by cedar and sandalwood. Servants scuttled to and fro through the steam, dedicated to their master's pleasure.

Through it all, Lord Set strode with the pride and poise of a king, seemingly oblivious of his attendants' work. He smiled to see those select few waiting by the edge of his bath - so honoured, so nervous. A single word and they would bow to his every whim.

He gestured at them. "Go."

There was some amusement in watching them flee, scrambling over one another in a desperate race to quit the room. When the last one had vanished, the smile slid from his face. Set's shoulders slumped, his hands unclasped, and a softer look suffused his features as the mask fell.

He disrobed slowly, yet efficiently, free of the weight of eyes on him. Set was known to be beautiful, the dark god carrying temptation in his wake. It made it easier to control people when all he needed was a laugh, a smile, a subtle hint of a half-promise in the right place. So easy, yet so wearying. They all wanted him, he knew. Everyone from the lowest slave to his most worthy ally thought of Set being theirs. He could see it in their little minds, but never in their hearts.

Set shook off the heavy thoughts. He would not let thoughts of his inferiors mar this taste of freedom from them. He stepped into the bath, the hot water prickling his skin, and lay back with a contented sigh. He let his eyes fall closed, intent on shutting out everything but the here and now. The bathwater lapped against his shoulders, heat suffusing through him after the cold stones of the castle.

An idle thought sent his hand dipping below the water. He was here for his own pleasure after all.

Set's body always conformed to his will. He idly ran a finger between his labia, not bothering to stifle the little gasp when he brushed against a sensitive spot. There was no one to hear him whimper at his own touch against his clitoris, nor to see his mouth fall open in an expression of perfect bliss.

He slid two fingers inside himself, curling them against him. Set's breath hitched as he rocked against his own hand. His face flushed from the heat of the water and the heat building inside of him. He twisted his fingers roughly, pressed his other hand against his pubic mound.


Set froze, listening out for any approaching footsteps. Silence. No one had heard his cries.

He worked another finger inside himself, fangs biting down on his lower lip to stop himself from crying out again. He wriggled, whined, keened, arched his back. Pangs of pleasure made his fingers curl, press inside of him all the better.

Set's eyes closed and he shivered, letting out a choked whimper as he came. His tensed muscles slackened, his fingers slipping from him as the god lay back in the water's embrace. Heart racing, but at ease, Set let himself enjoy this small slice of paradise.