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The Tale of the Demon Lord	By : Arianawray Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male > InuYasha/Sessh?maru > InuYasha/Sessh?maru Views: 56279 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or any of its characters, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
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XIII: Going Backwards
The prince would not be making an appearance for breakfast, Sesshomaru brusquely informed the servant in the dining hall who was arranging the cutlery at Inuyasha's place at the table.
The demon lord had personally pounded on his brother's door this morning, after hearing the repeated soft pleas of Natsumi, who was standing in the corridor and knocking gently on the firmly barred entrance of the prince's bedchamber.
At the sound of the heavier fist thumping against the solid wood, a coarse, snappish cry of "Fuck off!" issued from deep inside the room, and in fury, Sesshomaru had swept out of the corridor, his demon spirit-energy crackling almost audibly. Downstairs in the dining hall, he dropped into his chair at the head of the table and drank his tea in great, angry gulps.
How dare that ungrateful creature behave so petulantly and disrespectfully? Sesshomaru asked himself, quite forgetting that he had wished to see Inuyasha's personality as it truly was. He, supreme monarch over all dog demons other than his royal dam, king of all canine demons, and ruler of this vast kingdom populated by nearly every demon species, had been compassionate and tolerant, even tender towards this half-brother of his, and the brat was now refusing to show his face or even answer him politely?
This was outrageous. The boy deserved a slap on the face at the very least, and preferably a thorough spanking followed by some practical lessons on how best his uncouth, delicious mouth could be put to good use. If that still didn't knock sense into him, Sesshomaru had lots of other interesting ideas in his bag of half-demon-taming tricks.
The ingrate! He had shown him such consideration and restraint, given him a night to himself – which he had gleefully taken and then extended to a second night of his own accord, just because of some insolent servant's well-deserved punishment, even though he must have known that his lord brother would be desirous of his company. And this was how he was repaid? What a thoughtless brat.
As he finished his final cup of tea, Sesshomaru sent a servant to the library to inform Jaken that his student would not be attending his lessons this morning, then took himself off to his office, where he busied himself with work, but failed to completely take his mind off Inuyasha. Each time the boy's words of accusation, anger and bitterness sprang to mind, he slammed a drawer shut or thumped his desk, and generally behaved like a spoilt and demanding potentate who was letting his temper get the better of him.
His military and administrative staff steered clear of his office that day – the sound of his growls and the scent and aura of his anger filling the entire corridor were enough to make even the sentries on duty there wish they could sidle discreetly away from their posts.
Had Sesshomaru been able to govern his temper and lust as one who considered himself a great monarch and leader ought, the situation might not have deteriorated. Unfortunately, his seething anger grew when Inuyasha refused once more to appear for dinner, and his vexation was magnified by the quantity of wine he drank alone at table.
When he went upstairs that night and pounded on the door again, only to receive an obstinate silence for reply, that was when he allowed his anger to get the better of him and undo all that he had been working to achieve with his brother since bringing him home. In a cold voice harsh with disappointment and injured dignity, Sesshomaru snapped furiously: "I should have known better than to try and treat you well, you worthless, undeserving half-breed!"
The instant the words left his mouth, Sesshomaru knew that he should not have spoken them, that he did not truly mean them, and he had permitted his anger to speak for him – a foolish move for one who took such pride in having no master but himself. But it was too late. He could not take them back now, for Inuyasha had heard them only too clearly.
A deathly silence followed those painful words, only to be followed in its turn by the young prince's raging response at the top of his lungs: "So that's what you REALLY think of me – as if I didn't know before! At least you can stop pretending to care about me now, you screwed-up fuckhead!"
The guards along the corridor of the royal wing wanted nothing more than to shrivel up and vanish on the spot, because they could not believe the outrageous rudeness they were hearing, directed from their prince to their king, and they almost shook from the terror of anticipating Sesshomaru's reaction. Their demon lord had claws filled with venom, which he had in the past employed at the least provocation, and it was looking as if they were currently in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But Sesshomaru did not blow up or melt down everything in sight. He did not even answer the prince, or pound on the door again. He merely stood there in silence for several unnerving moments, then turned on his heel and swept into his own bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.
He might have chosen not to continue the argument, but the demon lord was not prepared to repent. His stubborn pride reigned though he knew full well that he should not have said what he did to Inuyasha, no matter how much the boy had angered him. Instead, he elected to drown his unease and unhappiness, and wash away his tension in the manner he best knew how – by summoning all his bath servants.
~ - ~
He still did not know their names. He remembered one or two here and there, but had never bothered to match them to their faces. He only knew them as "the one with gold hair", "the salamander demon with the bronze skin", "the dog demon girl with the blue eyes", "the tall one with the good hands" and whatever else distinguished them. Those far-from-comprehensive descriptions were all he had ever needed to summon whichever servants he wanted – those in attendance would always collect and deliver the right ones to him somehow.
He had in fact never remembered Natsumi's name in all the years she had served him, referring to her instead as "the quiet racoon girl". He had made a point of finding out what she was called and committing it to memory only when he identified her as the best personal attendant he could choose for Inuyasha; from that time, he had not forgotten it.
These servants, however, who fell over themselves to delight and arouse him while remaining suitably quiet, were still one multi-limbed mass of more-or-less nameless faces and bodies, a perfect contrast to the reluctant half-demon who had barricaded himself into his room.
Sesshomaru lapsed easily into his old ways as they fawned wordlessly on him in the bathroom, soaking up all their adoration and attention without having to say a thing to them, or to concern himself about how they were feeling, or wonder what they were thinking. It was marvellous not to have to care about any of that. After six days of delicately manipulating Inuyasha and puzzling over how to conquer the lad without breaking him, he had almost forgotten how to mindlessly indulge in nothing more than physical pleasure.
He leaned back in the sunken bath with his body and long legs in the water, and his head and arms draped over the warm, slightly rough stone tiles that paved the floor and edged the bath. The gold-tressed fox demon girl knelt on the floor behind him and skilfully massaged a herbal solution with a pleasing scent into his scalp and every inch of his long, silver hair; while the tall, good-looking and exotic tiger demon lad worked the kinks out of his right shoulder and arm, firmly pushing his strong fingers – claws well retracted – into all the appropriate acupressure points. He would move over to the left arm soon, and afterwards to the rest of Sesshomaru's body.
The blue-eyed dog-demon girl sat across from him in the water, resting on one of the stone seats that were built into the sides of the bath. His right foot was in her lap, and she was massaging the sole, toes and lower leg before she would go on to his other foot and his thighs. In the meantime, the sleek little salamander demon, who could breathe underwater, was making himself most useful deep inside the bath by diligently applying his mouth and the seductive strokes of his clever fingers to that part of Sesshomaru's anatomy which had been aching for Inuyasha's hands, Inuyasha's lips, Inuyasha's ass, for two entire days now without any relief.
Another pair of slender, flexible snake demons with gleaming silver skin contorted themselves into bizarrely erotic positions, and caressed, licked and aroused each other on the other side of the bathroom, providing visual entertainment for their king whenever he chose to open his eyes and glance over at them. A lizard demon in the corner played background music on a string instrument.
And they all served him with pure eagerness and openness to him, baring their bodies and accessorising their perfect submissiveness with perfect smiles.
Yet, as Sesshomaru immersed himself in these mindless pleasures, stimulated in countless ways at once, the name that kept intruding on his mindlessness was Inuyasha, Inuyasha, Inuyasha. The image of his beautiful, childlike face, wide-eyed as he lay beneath Sesshomaru in his bed, flashed in his head, and suddenly Sesshomaru was ejaculating into the salamander's skilled, eager mouth, climaxing quietly, with little more than a throaty exhalation of breath, but in his imagination, he was crying out his brother's name, burying his face in his hair, seeking out his appealingly soft-furred ears with his lips.
A while later, and he was still thinking of the half-demon, even when he had turned over in his bath so that he now rested his head on his arms over the warm stone as the tiger demon slipped easily into the water with nary a ripple and started massaging his back. The salamander boy was assiduously licking and lapping at the sensitive zones of his chest from below, and his hair had been gathered up to one side and was being carefully rinsed from the scalp down by the fox attendant. The blue-eyed girl dipped into the water in the centre of the bath to knead the backs of his thighs, coming up every now and again for air.
Sesshomaru was growing physically aroused again – the snake demons had slithered across the room to be within his line of sight, and the male, who had not one but two penises, as was common among his species, was now forcing his female partner down on her back, arching her over a bench, spreading her legs wide and thrusting deep into her with one long, thick member while the other pushed into her posterior orifice – and the sight was turning Sesshomaru on all over again, filling him with a sexual aggressiveness he had suppressed for a good while.
The salamander's attentions were not enough this time. He did a good job as always, but after several minutes Sesshomaru shoved him away, seized the blue-eyed attendant, heaved her halfway out of the water, pushed her face-down over the edge of the bath, and without any preamble penetrated her roughly. She cried out from the suddenness and violence of it despite her desire to please him; her cries only aroused him all the more, appealing to that cruel streak in his nature that had never quite died even after he did his best to subdue it upon realising the full extent of his tree-godfather's disapproval.
He came inside her without fear of impregnating her and eventually producing some bastard pup, for this dog demon girl had been born sterile, yet had developed into a flawlessly beautiful creature with a deceptively ripe and nubile appearance – rendering her perfect as a pleasure servant. Stirred up by the violent motions, the bathwater lapped in sharp waves around his hips, and as they died down he pulled out of her. He abruptly felt weary and sick of this whole circus surrounding him.
"Get out," he ordered in a low voice that bristled with fatigue. "All of you."
With perfect obedience, all seven took their robes and withdrew swiftly from the bathroom in seconds, watched by the guards at the chamber door as they crossed the bedroom floor, dripping wet.
Sesshomaru remained in the bath for a few more minutes to wash off the traces of his most recent act of copulation, and waited until the muted sounds coming from his bedroom indicated that the room attendants had almost finished their job of wiping up the trail of water left on the wood flooring by the bath servants.
A single word from him was enough to bring one of them to the bathroom door, bowing deeply. Sesshomaru ordered him to find Natsumi and send her here. He waited until all the room servants had left and the racoon demon had arrived, and the guards had shut his bedroom door behind her. He stepped out of the bath, thoroughly soaked from the top of his head down to his toes. Without having to be told, Natsumi immediately picked up a set of clean towels and started to dry his hair and body, first pressing as much water as she could out of his lengthy mane. He sat down on the bench the snake demons had used and let her go about her work quietly, not saying a word to her.
When his hair was as dry as the towelling and gentle wringing could get it, and she was starting to comb it, he asked: "Has he opened his door or windows at all?"
"No, my lord," she replied quietly.
He rose and allowed her to tie a soft bathrobe about his body before he walked into his bedroom, followed by Natsumi armed with combs and more towels.
He seated himself on the edge of his bed, and indicated with a minuscule toss of his head that she was permitted to kneel on the bed behind him in order to continue combing his hair. Her gentleness soothed him, but also brought to mind Inuyasha's reticence whenever he was in this bedroom with him – a reticence that was the complete opposite of what Sesshomaru realised was his true nature. He had wished to see the boy's natural behaviour, and now he was seeing too much of it, complete with foul language, a hot temper and an ungovernable attitude.
By the time Natsumi was done with his hair, and he dismissed her, he was a good deal calmer inside – he supposed that being in contact with his brother's personal servant was the next best thing to having the boy beside him. But Inuyasha was still not here in his bed, and that would keep him unhappy for as long as this ridiculous situation dragged on.
~ - ~
On the other side of the wall, Inuyasha had seethed through the evening. If he had known that it was going to come to this – that he was going to end up locking himself into his room and screaming abuse at Sesshomaru – he would have told the creep to fuck off right from the start.
After all, Sesshomaru had only said that he had to come back to this stupid castle and stay here – he hadn't said anything about obeying him in every single other way, had he? So, considering that he was now confined to his chamber and had hugely pissed off the demon lord, he might as well have done that from the beginning instead of submitting quietly to the bastard's perversions. It would all have ended the same way anyhow – with him locked up somewhere or other and Sesshomaru regarding him with the contempt with which he had always looked upon him.
Half-breed. Sesshomaru had never called him that to his face before, but it must have been how he had thought of him before he was born, while he had been a child, and when he had lived away from the castle. He had heard the derogatory term all his life – from demons and humans who despised him for being neither one thing nor the other – but he had always brushed it off because those who mocked and cursed him knew nothing about him, and had never pretended to care.
However, the elaborate act that the demon lord had put on to convince him that he actually cared about him as a lover and brother had very nearly persuaded Inuyasha that he somehow meant something to Sesshomaru, and he now perceived the words coming from his brother's mouth as having an exceptional sting to them. Well, that demon sibling of his could end his pretence now – it had obviously been no more than a pathetic, sick way of keeping him quiet enough to take to bed with minimal fuss. Deep down, what Sesshomaru had thought all along was just what he had said: worthless, undeserving half-breed.
A part of Inuyasha – that part of him which remained the cowed, intimidated child tiptoeing around the castle – wanted to cry. But the other half of him – the stronger, wary, more cynical half – hardened his heart and mind against Sesshomaru and protected his feelings by thinking of the demon lord as no more than a lecherous tyrant who deserved not a kind thought from him. He took out his mother's hair ornament and Bokusen'o's leaf, and put them onto his folded fire rat robe, then lay down on his bed with those comforting objects on his chest, drawing courage from them as the sounds and smells from next door intruded on his privacy.
Of course the pervert was indulging in his old pastimes again with his bath servants, going by the noises that came through the walls, and the scents of arousal and sex that wafted through the finely worked slats of his window shutters and under his door. He was probably releasing all his tension after getting turned on by what he had done to that idiot Mamoru. That stupid boy had always been a horrible bully and thoroughly unpleasant, but even he didn't deserve that sort of treatment. Sesshomaru got off on that kind of thing?
What a creep.
When things suddenly got completely quiet next door, Inuyasha wondered if Sesshomaru had abruptly melted down all his servants in a toxic pique. But he soon heard scurrying feet along the corridor, and caught Natsumi's scent later. All seemed calm, so he guessed the servants had survived.
He nibbled on one of the rice-and-seaweed biscuits he had stashed away in his desk drawer after Jaken had told him to take them with him after their lesson the day before yesterday. The bites staved off his hunger pangs, but he was not particularly worried about having nothing else to eat, for there had been miserable times in his past when he had lived through several days without anything that remotely resembled edible food, and he could do the same now.
He would find a way out of here somehow without compromising the safety of his human friends. And then he would never have to see Sesshomaru again.
Before that thought could cheer him, however, Sesshomaru's voice rang out again in his mind: worthless, undeserving half-breed. And Inuyasha was still enough of a child to bury his face in his pillow and shed some angry tears over it.
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The Tale of the Demon Lord