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Pale Imitation

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The guards shove Jiang Wei to his knees, and he hits the ground in front of Sima Yi with a stifled yelp. He knew when he began this mission that it would involve hardship, but now that he's here, with Wei soldiers restraining him and their commander watching him with open disdain, Jiang Wei finds his determination beginning to waver.

"Have you come to beg for forgiveness, you despicable little traitor?"

"Hardly." Jiang Wei glares up at him, defiant even on his knees. "You know what I'm here for, Sima Yi. You've got something of mine, and I'm here to take it back."

"Oh, are you now?" The older strategist laughs, raising an eyebrow. His gaze is cold and sharp, and it pierces Jiang Wei like claws. "And what would that be?"

The younger man looks beyond Sima Yi, to the closed doors of the chamber behind him. He's so close now, its nearness almost tangible. "You've stolen a statue of the Prime Minister." He brings his eyes back to Sima Yi's, meeting them unflinchingly. "It belongs to Shu, and I intend to take it back."

"Stolen? How absurd." The older man folds his arms, regarding Jiang Wei with obvious contempt. "If you valued the statue that much, Jiang Wei, then why did you abandon it when you fled? Was that carelessness, or simple cowardice?"

Jiang Wei smirks. "Well, a dead Kongming scares away a living Zhongda-"

Sima Yi slaps him, hard and lightning-fast, and seizes hold of his throat. "I have something you want, and yet you continue to insult me? You really are as much of a fool as your master, aren't you?"

Jiang Wei is silent. The hand gripping his throat tightens just enough to cut off his breath, but the young strategist holds his nerve. He stares up at Sima Yi, resolute and still, even as his body is clamouring for air. The older strategist's eyes burn into him, like a distorted reflection of his mentor's gaze; the same sharp intelligence lights up Sima Yi's face, but where the Prime Minister's eyes held vast, cool depths, Sima Yi's gaze is a seething tempest of menace. It chills Jiang Wei even as it arouses him, but the young man is determined to withstand that vicious glare no matter what. Finally Sima Yi releases his grip, and Jiang Wei sags forward, swallowing hurried breaths with as much dignity as he can muster.

"Leave us." Sima Yi commands, dismissing the guards with a wave of his hand.

By the time Jiang Wei has composed himself, the older strategist has opened the chamber doors wide. In the shadows of the room beyond, Jiang Wei can just make out the figure he has been yearning for, searching for, for so long. The dim light of the surrounding lanterns picks out the curve of the chair's wheels, the folds of the figure's robes, the rigid lines of its face. All of the strength Jiang Wei had intended to show seems to desert him when faced with the sight of his mentor's image, and he stumbles to his feet gracelessly.

"You… you're going to let me take it back?" Jiang Wei takes a few faltering steps, his gaze fixed on the statue. Even rendered in wood, the Prime Minister's face summons a tempest of feeling in him, and he falls to his knees.

"Perhaps." Sima Yi closes the doors, shutting out all but the faintest light from the room. "If you satisfy certain conditions of mine."

He'd been prepared for this. Having studied under Zhuge Liang, having been warned at length about Sima Yi, having heard every story and rumour that circulated about the Wei strategist, Jiang Wei is hardly surprised at the trade he's being offered. If it earns him possession of the statue again, then giving himself over to Sima Yi briefly is a trifling sacrifice.

He remains on his knees, and looks up at the older man, meeting his eyes steadily. "Then what are your conditions?"

"A demonstration of how you intend to put this statue to use."

Jiang Wei is silent. His cheeks burn, and he tenses under the strategist's gaze. "What do you mean?"

Sima Yi laughs, loud and sharp. "Oh, come now, Jiang Wei. You're too old now to play the innocent, as charming as that is." The older man's hands grip Jiang Wei's shoulders, squeezing them lightly. "My men have examined this statue thoroughly. I know every detail of its specifications. I know precisely what Kongming must have had in mind, when he commissioned these to be made."

The young strategist looks away, turning his gaze back to the statue. In the dim light, it looks more realistic than ever; the hard lines of its face seem to soften as Jiang Wei looks upon them, and the layers of fabric draped over its limbs seem almost to stir as if moved by real, breathing flesh. It's an illusion, the young man knows, a testament to the statue's brilliant design and to the fine skill of the craftsmen the Prime Minister had engaged to work on it. But nevertheless, the sensation of being almost, but not quite, in the presence of his mentor again is too intoxicating to resist.

"Very well," Jiang Wei answers, quietly, and rises to his feet. His hands are moving deftly over the fastenings of his robes when Sima Yi rebukes him.

"Don't be so hasty, boy," the older man orders, his voice rich with amusement. "Undress as you would for your master's pleasure. Take your time, and make it worth watching."

Jiang Wei pauses, struggling with the urge to turn and flee. Sima Yi intends to heap humiliation after humiliation on him, that much is clear, and yet the young strategist can't deny that the torment is worth it; any amount of embarrassment would be a fair price, for the chance to take home one of the last mementos of his teacher's presence. Steeling himself, Jiang Wei turns towards the statue, and keeps his eyes fixed on the likeness of his lord's face, as he begins to undress again.

His hands move slowly this time, carefully removing and putting aside each piece of clothing, until he stands bare-chested before the statue, just as he had so many times before his mentor. Then, with the same careful deliberation, Jiang Wei turns and faces away from his audience as he strips away the last few garments. He pauses for a moment, naked and still, as if waiting for his lord's command. Then, pushing the thought aside, he turns to face the statue once more. He resumes his kneeling position, keeping his eyes low, striving to ignore the sensation of Sima Yi's gaze on him.

"Prime Minister…" The young man murmurs, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the statue's knee. The robes covering it still carry the scent of his lord's favoured incense, and he can almost hear the Prime Minister's voice, ordering him to breathe in the fragrance and surrender to its embrace. So many times, Jiang Wei has revelled in that scent and the pleasures that accompanied it; his body reacts immediately, and he bites back an instinctive little moan of anticipation.

"Don't be shy, Jiang Wei." Sima Yi's voice drips with contempt. "Show your master how much you want him."

The older strategist's goading affects Jiang Wei more than he cares to admit, and as he slides one hand down to touch himself, the young man tries valiantly to focus solely on the thought of his mentor. "My lord…" he says softly, his voice catching as his fingers curl around the shaft of his cock. "My lord, I…"

"That's better," Sima Yi says, not letting the young man forget his presence for a moment. "But don't be selfish, boy. Give your master some of that attention."

Keeping his eyes resolutely closed, Jiang Wei does as he's told, and reaches up to rest his free hand on the statue's lap. Even though the robe's fabric, Jiang Wei can feel the hardness of the statue's cock, and he can still remember his embarrassment when the Prime Minister first disclosed this aspect of the statue's design. His cheeks burn only slightly less now, as he slips his hand inside the statue's robes to stroke it. The contours of the leather phallus are so familiar, cool and firm and so perfectly sculpted, that Jiang Wei can't help but buck his hips in response, thrusting forward into his hand.

"Unfasten his robes." The older strategist orders, breaking Jiang Wei's focus once more. "Don't hide what you're doing, boy."

Jiang Wei obeys, pushing down the surge of instinctive excitement that follows the older man's order. Cringing at his own wantonness, Jiang Wei strokes himself in time with the movements of his fist over the statue's shaft.

"Prime Minister…" Jiang Wei leans forward and brings his lips to the tip of the statue's cock. The taste of the leather is just as he remembers it, smoky and bitter against his tongue, and he slides his lips smoothly down the length of it until the dildo fills his throat. With the weight of the leather shaft pressing against his tongue, it's easy to imagine that the gaze scrutinising him is the Prime Minister's, not Sima Yi's, that his mentor is watching his performance with that familiar quiet warmth, that at any moment his lord's hands might finally take hold of him and pull him close.

"Kongming really did train you well, didn't he?" Sima Yi laughs, and Jiang Wei can hear his footsteps as the older man circles him. "Look at you, almost worshipping it… What a lascivious pupil you've turned out to be, Jiang Wei. But you won't be satisfied with just that, will you?" The older strategist takes hold of Jiang Wei's wrist, and presses a small vial into his palm. "Ride him, boy. Show me what a good little catamite you can be for your master."

Jiang Wei leans back, breathing hard through his now empty mouth, and pours out a handful of oil. He can't deny that this is what he really came here for, what he's been yearning after for so long, and as he slicks oil along the length of the statue's cock he can't suppress a groan of hunger. His fingertips brush lightly across cleft of his ass, rubbing the last drops of oil into the delicate puckered flesh, and he can feel his hands trembling as he prepares himself. It's been far too long since anyone touched him so intimately, and Jiang Wei knows he won't last long.

Sitting astride the statue's lap, the young man positions himself carefully, shifting and angling his hips until the head of the statue's cock brushes against his ass. The sensation of it sinking into him, rigid and unyielding, stretching his neglected flesh and spreading him wide open, is too sweet to resist. Jiang Wei moans in satisfaction, unable to restrain himself, and the older strategist's laughter echoes through the room.

"Oh, Jiang Wei, how long has it been since anyone enjoyed that body of yours?" Sima Yi taunts him, circling around to stand behind the young man. "You can hardly wait to take it, can you?"

Jiang Wei doesn't respond, but the mixture of scorn and desire in the older man's voice sends a shiver through his flesh. He shouldn't be affected so easily, he shouldn't allow Sima Yi's words to excite him, he should focus entirely on the memory of the Prime Minister. Clinging to the statue's neck, Jiang Wei moves slowly and smoothly over its cock, sliding along the length of the leather shaft in a steady, languid rhythm matched by the strokes of his fist over his own cock. "Prime Minister…" He murmurs against the statue's shoulder, muffling his groans against the soft fabric of its robes. "My lord…"

Every stroke of the young man's hips pushes him closer and closer to the precipice. The feeling of the statue's cock impaling him, filling him, cool and hard and deep, is just too much after so long without feeling the touch of another man's flesh. Biting his lip, Jiang Wei stifles a desperate groan and begins to work his hand faster, riding the statue vigorously as he feels the tension beginning to build in his stomach.

He hears Sima Yi's laughter, and at the back of his mind Jiang Wei knows it means trouble, but the sudden grip of the older man's hand around his throat still surprises him. Jiang Wei yelps in shock as Sima Yi hauls him off the statue and throws him to the floor.

"Did you really think I'd let you have everything your way, boy?" The older strategist's voice is rich with bitter enjoyment. "How foolish."

Jiang Wei pushes himself up to his hands and knees, but before he has a chance to stand, Sima Yi puts one foot on the young man's back and holds him in place.

"You'll have all the time in the world with your precious statue, once you're back in Shu." Reaching down, Sima Yi grabs the younger strategist's ass roughly, squeezing the curve of his rear hard enough that Jiang Wei can feel the bite of nails against his skin. "But today your pleasure belongs to me."

"Villain!" Jiang Wei hisses. "I'd never-"

"Is that right?" Sima Yi takes his foot from the young man's back, and circles around to stand before him. "Then you can leave empty-handed, boy."

The threat is no surprise; the surprise for Jiang Wei is how little he believes his own protests. Sima Yi's cajoling and taunting is so different from the way the Prime Minister treated him, and yet each vicious word seems to inflame him more and more.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of the statue until the next time you come to take it back." The older man folds his arms, looking down at Jiang Wei with obvious amusement. "And you will come back. It doesn't take a genius strategist to predict your movements, does it, Jiang Wei?"

The young man lowers his eyes, not wanting to meet the gaze that seems to see through him so easily. He can find no words of protest that would be anything less than blatant lies, so he keeps quiet and fixes his eyes on the floor in front of him.

"But you aren't going to run away, are you, boy?" Sima Yi laughs, and his voice is full of such venom that Jiang Wei can't suppress a shiver. "It seems you're more amenable to my methods than you expected."

He knew he would have to give himself up to Sima Yi before he even began, but he'd planned it as a calculated surrender, a purely pragmatic arrangement. Now, on his knees before the older strategist, Jiang Wei finds his plans disintegrating around him. All thoughts of pragmatism have deserted him, and in their place the young man simply has an inescapable attraction. Sima Yi's intellect, as cruel and sharp as it is, lures him like a glittering blade; Jiang Wei knows one touch will undo him, but the temptation is too great, and it's all he can do to refrain from grasping this chance with both hands.

"Kongming spoke of me often, didn't he?" Sima Yi reaches down, and takes hold of Jiang Wei's chin, tilting the young man's head up.


"And what did your master tell you about me, boy?"

"He said…" Jiang Wei licks his dry lips, faltering under the older man's gaze. "He said that you were the only one who could truly understand him. That you…"

"Go on."

"That you and he were the same, in essence."

"The same!" Sima Yi laughs. "No wonder you've come to kneel before me, boy. You wanted this from the start, didn't you?"

Jiang Wei doesn't respond, but he knows the answer is clearly shown in his eyes, as plainly stated as if he bowed to the floor and begged. His silence buys him a vicious slap, and he reels back from the blow, breathing hard.

"Answer me, Jiang Wei." Sima Yi takes hold of the young man's hair, gripping it tightly. "Surely the Prodigy of Tian Shui isn't ignorant of his own desires? Or perhaps you simply need more encouragement to loosen that tongue…"

Another slap cuts across Jiang Wei's cheek, and a backhanded blow follows it, hard enough to wring a cry from the young man's lips. Sima Yi grabs hold of his hair and shoves his head down, forcing Jiang Wei's face against him. The sudden touch of Sima Yi's arousal, hard and hot against his cheek even through the layers of cloth between them, is impossible to ignore; Jiang Wei moans softly against the fabric beneath his lips, unable to control himself any longer. Clinging to Sima Yi's legs, steadying his trembling body, the younger strategist gives himself up at last to his desires.

"Only a fool could deny something so obvious." Sima Yi yanks Jiang Wei's head back, forcing the young man to meet his gaze. "You want it, don't you, boy?"

"Yes!" Jiang Wei cries out, as if the admission is being dragged out of him by that cruel hand.

With a triumphant laugh, Sima Yi drags the young man over to the statue and throws him at its feet. "Here, boy. Look up at his face, while I give you what he no longer can."

Jiang Wei clings to the statue's legs, bracing himself against the sturdy wood, as Sima Yi begins to fuck him. He cries out at the feeling of being filled again, of his oiled flesh yielding to the older man's cock so easily, of the heat and hardness inside him once more. His cheeks blaze with embarrassment as his body reacts so hungrily, revelling in being fucked on his hands and knees by his mentor's nemesis, and as he looks up helplessly at the image of the Prime Minister's face, Jiang Wei finds the sight only excites him more. The thought of being watched by his teacher, of the Prime Minister witnessing every jerk of his hips and every arch of his back, sets Jiang Wei ablaze with humiliating pleasure.

"My lord…" The young man moans, grasping the statue's robes tightly as he pushes back against Sima Yi.

"That's right, tell him how good it feels, boy." Picking up his pace, the older strategist grips Jiang Wei's hips firmly with one hand, and reaches around beneath the young man with the other, taking hold of his cock with a mercilessly firm grasp. The sudden tightness of Sima Yi's hand around him, coupled with the vicious thrusts of the older man's cock, push Jiang Wei abruptly to the brink, and he throws his head back, crying out in abandon.

"It feels… So good…" The words spill incoherently from his lips, and he writhes in Sima Yi's grasp, striving to feel more and more of that tight fist manipulating him, wanting more and more of that hard flesh impaling him. The pleasure overwhelms him easily, and he shakes and bucks beneath the older man, clinging to the image of his mentor with all the strength he has remaining. His own climax seems to pull Sima Yi along with him, and as the convulsion wrack his body, all Jiang Wei can hear is the sound of the older man's victorious laughter, rich with pleasure and bitter with mockery, inescapable and merciless.