Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

Sesshoumaru's Slave	By : salomewilde Category: InuYasha AU/AR > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 9768 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha nor profit from borrowing some of its characters for my fanfic.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
VIII: The Garden
~7500 words
Holding Sage's leash loosely, Sesshoumaru pauses as he exits his chambers to advise a guard to have his bed linen changed and his furs aired, given the medicine and fleas or lice (dead, he assumes) that might litter them. He does so in a quiet, firm voice, not mentioning why to avoid shaming Sage. He watches the guards attend and bow, and keeps his smell sharp for their response to Sage. Curiosity, yes, but neither malice nor envy, for the guards have positions of stature in the castle and are carefully chosen for their confidence and trustworthiness. He walks on, Sage keeping up well, his scent concerned but not overly so. Perhaps just nervous and excited. It is difficult to read at present, and he wishes to keep them moving rather than to turn and observe further.
He is excited but a little flinchy, too. The castle is much bigger than he thought, having seen the little he has, and there are guards and servants and dogs everywhere. One particular bitch pauses from whatever she was going to do to sniff him very completely, and he doesn't dare return the favor. He has rarely seen dogs such as these: mostly white and big...very big. And servants bow, but he can smell their curiosity in some instances and feel their pointing, if not literally then figuratively when he passes them. He walks as close to Master as a proper heel permits, just to be safe.
Sesshoumaru pauses as Eiki sniffs Sage. He could intervene, but she is a good first meeting for him. She is wise, as her name suggests, one of the castle's oldest and most trusted beasts, often found on her own, observing, protecting, and sharing the scent of her calm wisdom through the castle. There are several such proud alpha bitches in his wing, and he loves the way they walk with strength and grace. Eiki has been alive longer than he has, and his scent--though dominant to the core--makes plain his respect for this beautiful dog. He can tell, too, as they pass, that she smells something unique in Sage. He strokes her as she passes and heads on her way. He could explain some or all of this to Sage, but he chooses not to. Already, he can tell that this is so new to him as to confuse when he does not mean to do so. Simple, direct: this is how he will be with his brother-slave for now. "Beautiful, isn't she?" he says over his shoulder as they descend to the main floor and head to the northern garden, where his favorite fruit trees stand.
Sage responds quickly and honestly, "Yes, Master," because the dog is indeed beautiful. He finds Master's scent odd when he pets the bitch, but it is not his concern except to remember that he must treat this particular dog, at least, with proper respect should he see her about again. Doki floofs a bit as a guard passes behind them, but then the guard is gone and he can begin to smell sunshine, though they haven't yet left the inside. There is far too much here to learn in one day or week or month. He really must focus on Master in order to make any sense of anything. Master is the most interesting of all, anyway.
As they take the steps together, one in front and one, as proper, behind, he enjoys the aura of the curious yet tentative slave. "Have you spent much time in the sun, Sage, or have you mostly been kept indoors?"
"Mostly out of doors Master, at least the last few years. Sometimes I stayed long times indoors, other times I was kept with the other slaves. Or sometimes I was more a house slave and other times more of...not a house slave." It is difficult to explain, he finds. He has spent quite a lot of time out of doors, but almost never in ideal conditions. Whether it was because he was penned up with other slaves or because he was put to working fields or other outdoor tasks or because the slaver he was with traveled, it was never to enjoy the sun. He has been also kept inside for other things. And usually they crossed over one and the other. Just because a Master wanted to fuck a slave didn't mean he didn't get thrown back out into the pen when Master was done.
He turns. "You realize you have likely seen more of life than I have, little one." He smiles warmly, a rich feeling of pride in having his own slave simmering through him. He turns and walks on, gently pulling the leash, turning toward the doors that open on the walled garden. "But I am certain there is much new I can teach you here, nonetheless."
"I...I don't understand, Master." He has no idea what Master means by him having seen more of life than Master! Masters aren't supposed to know about how to fight for the best spot for sleep or how to get the most food you can without losing any of what you already have, or how to soothe a very very young, new slave into quiet so they don't all get punished because the young one is frightened and confused. But he is looking forward to learning new things. Learning is the best part of almost anything. Learning to keep what he had learned to himself was an altogether different lesson, but he had learned it well, and early enough. "Yes, Master."
He turns, bends, and kisses Sage, tugging on his lip with his teeth after. It will catch his attention and stop the thinking. The slave does think, as does Sesshoumaru himself, perhaps too much. He tips up his chin with a claw. "I have lived much of my life in this castle. There will come times when I wish to hear about what you have seen, slave." He rises and pushes open the door to the garden.
He submits to the kiss, surprised as he is, and he is also undeniably pleased at being kissed and spoken to and touched, and he listens. "I will tell you anything you ask, Master," he promises. How odd. The sensation of not being spelled into obedience or honesty is still so novel, nearly as much as the desire to obey and please this Master. But then the door opens and the sunlight silhouettes Master and the smells assault his nose and he is literally dizzy from the concentration of scents from Master and what he does not know yet is a walled garden. His eyes water and his nose runs and he sneezes as his brain begins automatically to sort the deluge of information coming in through his very very sensitive, acute nose.
Sesshoumaru turns, concerned. "What is it, pup?" Such a strong reaction. Sesshoumaru considers himself a being of sensitive senses, but could it be this one is even more so?
Sage rubs his eyes and then his nose just a little bit and shakes his head to try and clear it and sneezes again. "I am sorry Master...it is just a lot of smells, all packed together and the wind is blowing them right at me and there's so much of them and lots new my nose doesn't know yet. I am sorry, please forgive this slave, Master. There is nothing ailing me, Master." He just has to adjust to the overload and the brightness of the sunlight, too. The sneezing always seems to make the sun brighter somehow, which he knows does not make any sense.
Sesshoumaru, inexperienced with caring for pretty much anything other than himself, lifts Sage into his arms and brings him into the shade of one of the larger trees. His legs fold under him and his fur takes it upon itself to wrap the boy in his lap. It feels strange and unnecessary, and he likes it.
Sage is breathing through his mouth by this time, and makes a surprised and aborted yelp as he is lifted up and then settled in Master's lap, while Master's fur wraps itself around him. Doki responds at once. After Sage manages to clear his face with his obliging fur, Doki dives into the fluff of the much larger, elegant fur. "Forgive me, please, Master," he says automatically. "I am grateful, though unworthy of such consideration." Also automatic, but heartfelt. He keeps his face turned away, to guard against stray sneezes, and his watering eyes close as his brain sorts things out and his body adapts. It won't take long, and he is used to being forced forward into situations similar to this, though he has never been so pleasantly overwhelmed. He sniffs, doing his best to clear everything out as quickly as possible so Master need not be inconvenienced anymore than Sage has already inconvenienced him.
Sesshoumaru chuckles at the humility, the subservience, the frequent sincere apologies. It's all as new to him as that which makes Sage twitch and sneeze, no doubt. "I will let you know when you're unworthy, have no fear."
"Yes, Master," he replies and finally manages to clear his eyes while his nose is still busy sorting. Under a tree. Grass. His eyes flick upwards and he sees a nearby stone wall, a high one. If there are walls all around, and his other senses tell him there are, that would explain such a concentration of everything. It is very bright though, and warm, though he privately thinks that perhaps the sun cannot compare to Master in brilliance and beauty. He rubs his eyes again on the sleeve of his robe, satisfied that they have stopped watering, and, before he looks around, he checks to be as sure as he can be that there are no hidden sneezes lurking and looks up at Master. He has never seen Master outside, in the sunlight, and his mouth opens slightly. His nose is still busy with everything else, but Master in the sunlight..."Oh Master," he breathes. "You are so beautiful!"
Sesshoumaru smiles down at the boy about whom he was thinking very similar yet perhaps more lascivious thoughts. He has never doubted his own beauty. But he can never be told too much of it. "Thank you, my slave."
He bows his head properly, his brain and body finally having adjusted to the assault of the walled garden. Now he can sort things out...fruit trees with ripening fruits, flowers, bamboo, corners with shrines or fountains, a small, vivacious brook complete with a miniature waterfall running all through it, paths and that barely seems to scratch the surface. At one end of the brook is a deep pool with more flowers, this time ones properly suited to such a thing with brightly decorated koi fish. All this and he has yet to actually look around at the large, beautiful garden.
What is it that drives him to want to show the boy everything...though he has likely seen gardens aplenty. Perhaps not as beautiful as this, but he has seen much for one so young. "Have you had the chance to pluck ripe fruit and eat it from the tree?" Absurd how much he hopes the boy has not.
He bites his lip and shrinks slightly. "I...I have never been...allowed...to eat ripe fruit I have picked."
Oh yes. Couldn't be more of what he hoped to hear, and he won't scold himself for enjoying the moment. His slave. His ability to give pleasure. And take it. He rises, Sage in his arms, and carries him to the plum tree nearest, heavy with fruit. "Do you know how to determine which will be sweet, little one?"
He looks up at the plums, breathing them in. "Yes, Master...usually I can smell...but there are other ways." He frowns slightly and tries to remember what they are.
"Would you like one?" He holds him up to pick.
His eyes open wide. "May I, Master?" His hand hovers near his body, not certain that is permission or not.
"You may. I may even sample a bite from your hand." The last is a gift in itself, though Sage will likely not recognize it as such. Sesshoumaru eats rarely and only a limited variety. Plums have a flavor he enjoys, though digestion is another matter.
He smiles, excited, happy...thrilled even and the thought that Master might taste what he chooses makes his selection even more important. He puts his nose to work and his hand flutters over various ripe and less ripe plums before selecting one that has lazy bees hovering around and carefully twists it from its stem. Instead of having to drop it into a bag across his body or into a basket, he savors the weight of the fruit and the feeling of the smooth skin against his hand, and cups his other hand to hold it reverently and look at it. "Master..." he whispers.
"Well chosen, Sage." He can feel and smell and sense in so many ways how deeply this pleases Sage. "How does it feel in your hand? Full and heavy, juicy and ripe-smelling?" His mind flits to the weight of a lover's sac in his grip, but Sage is more cherries than plums, and this moment is richer even than sexual pleasure. He watches Sage's face and inhales his awed scent: so much sweeter than fruit.
"Yes, Master," he breathes. "Warm...and sweet and ripe and smooth...smells of sunshine and and...Master, thank you...thank you..." He's surprised to find his face is a little wet. He doesn't cry...he's not used to the feeling.
"Sage," Sesshoumaru says softly, passing his tongue across the unexpected tears. They taste of fighting back expectation until it barely exists, of seeing much and enjoying too little—or is he projecting? How quickly the slave has captivated him. "You are most welcome," he says, experiencing strong emotion of his own.
He looks up at the swiping tongue and does his best to explain. "I am not unhappy or ungrateful Master, I promise!!"
He makes a shushing sound to ease the worry. "You are anything but ungrateful, pup. Why would you think your Master would not know?" He licks his lips and nods. "Will you taste the fruit, then?" He watches covetously, desiring a glimpse of those growing fangs. How sharp they could be—will be.
"I'm not used to crying, Master," he gulps and tries to explain. He looks down at the fruit, then back up at Master. "Yes please, Master," he smiles. He brings the fruit to his nose and mouth to smell and feel against his lips. He looks up again to make certain it is all right, and then opens his mouth and takes a bite and it explodes in his mouth, sweet, juicy...wonderfully warm and fresh as it over spills his mouth. The expression on his face is one of surprise and..."Ohhhh..."
"I am not one to cry either," he says quietly, watching Sage enjoy the fruit. He leans in again and swipes his tongue across the small face, this time to catch the juice droplet about to drip from his chin.
He has to smile at the tongue on his face again. He does so enjoy being licked. "Thank you, Master," he says, and then holds up the plum, still cradled in both his hands to offer it to Master. He isn't...entirely sure how to offer anything like this to a Master...any Master. Masters don't eat slave food, but this isn't slave food and Master said...he did say he might want a taste, and so before Sage has another bite, Master should be offered the fruit. But any words in his head sound wrong, so he just holds it up, hopefully.
Sesshoumaru bends and takes a small bite of the offering, licking Sage's fingers greedily in the process. Sweeter than any fruit, this little slave is.
He watches Master bite and taste and he giggles as his fingers are licked, then just as quickly eats from where Master's mouth had just been. Was it just yesterday he was his old master's high-profit slave, being driven and dragged in a chained line with other high-profit or quality slaves? Had it only been yesterday that he was shoved in the early morning chill into a chillier stream to be washed then beaten when he protested? He shivers a little bit, looking at the thick, high wall of the huge garden as he takes another bite. He has no idea how long this will last; nothing is certain ever, he reminds himself. And nothing is forever, except perhaps his enslavement. But even that will end one day when his life ends. He licks the pit, even though there is still plenty of plum flesh to be eaten; he likes to taste the not quite woody taste of the large seed in the middle of the fruit.
"It tastes well in your hand," Sesshoumaru says, swallowing the pulp and hoping it will not disagree with him. Life has been a struggle when it comes to nourishment, from his earliest days. He wonders how the slave will take to seeing him feed from wet-nurse servants.
"It does, Master?" He looks up, pausing from taking another bite.
"I taste your pleasure...or I sense it, smell it, and taste it through your scent. It makes the taste more…palatable to me." He ponders further explanation. But does one explain oneself to a slave?
Sage cocks his head to one side, and thoughtfully takes another bite out of the fruit. It IS juicy and sweet and the flesh is just the right firmness and softness and the skin just the slightest bit tart and he thinks over what Master just said. "Pleasure does taste good, Master," he says when he swallows, agreeing after turning it over in his head a few times. Master doesn't smell as if he dislikes plums exactly, or the taste really. But he took only a small bite. But he is Master, so whatever Master does is the right thing and not his place to question.
"Kiss me, and let me taste pleasure again," he murmurs, knowing well there is no need to seduce one who is already so entirely his to possess, but enjoying the dalliance nonetheless.
He obeys, pressing his mouth up to Master's mouth, his lips wet and a little sticky with the juice of the fruit. How does Master make the fruit taste so much better even though there is none in his mouth right now?
Sesshoumaru prolongs the kiss, then relents. Let the poor boy eat, he scolds himself. "We grow not only fruit in this garden but the leaves of flowers that can be brewed into fragrant teas I sometimes enjoy." A breeze winds through his hair and he delights in it.
You can make tea or soup out of almost anything, he knows. Get hungry enough and you can eat nearly anything, though he found early on that he could eat things other slaves simply couldn't stomach or chew for that matter. But he's heard of flower teas and lots of herbs are brewed into medicine. "Do you like lots of different tea, Master?" he asks, then proceeds to denude the plum pit of the rest of its fruit.
Sesshoumaru watches him neatly eat every bit of fruit, wondering if he thinks there will be no more. "I do enjoy a variety of teas, yes," he answers, reaching up to pluck a small, dark and ripe plum and hand it to Sage. "That was a small one. You may eat or save this one for later, as you wish."
He takes the other plum reverently, tucking the plum pit into his cheek for a moment so he can smell the fruit Master picked for him, before he puts it into his obi for safe keeping and spits the pit back into his hand so he can thank Master. "Thank you, Master!" Doki's end tip brushes over where the plum hides briefly before burrowing back into Master's fur. He has no idea what to do with the now very clean plum pit or his sticky fingers, though. Normally he would eat the plum straight away, but he had a good dinner last night, and breakfast just a little while ago. His belly is surprisingly full, and though he would stuff it past capacity without hesitation usually, he doesn't want to eat Master's plum yet. Not yet.
He enjoys the choice his slave makes, trusting that he may savor the plum later, that it will not be taken from him. Earning his trust is somehow rich, fulfilling. "Rosebuds are gathered there," he says, pointing to bushes in full bloom, though many ripen. My Lady Mother loves to look upon them and to smell their heady fragrance. And their petals can later be used. But I like the subtlety of the buds, dried and steeped briefly." He does not pause to wonder why he tells this to Sage. It feels right to speak, that is all.
He is careful not to touch Master with his sticky hands or face as he follows where Master points. "Roses make fruit too, Master," he says seriously, though his nose is taking in every variety of rose that it can since that is what Master is showing him. The collar is loose around his neck and he shivers suddenly as a quick breeze ruffles Doki against his robe. Such an odd sensation!!
"I suppose I am a creature more of flower than of fruit, and of bud more than blossom," Sesshoumaru says with a laugh. There is no way the boy will understand him, but the thought amuses him. He is dominant, powerful, and never weak of will or without poison, but he is also victim to his own toxicity. And at this moment, he is fascinated with the budding boy on his lap.
Sage doesn't understand, but he tucks it away for contemplation later, looking up at Master's laugh and smelling his poison. The sun makes sparkles in Master's hair and shines off Master's fur even though it is so fluffy. His tongue touches his own teeth in a gesture that is habitual...just checking...as he looks around some more. There is a small forest of well tended bamboo...and irises over there...wet everywhere and stone and green and colors. "It is a very big garden, Master," he observes.
He nods. It is an ample castle garden, true enough. And he has spent much time here, and in others of the castle's walled outdoor spaces. But he has also flown and seen just how small the gardens are, the whole castle is. "I like the fountain," he says, pointing. The way the water trickles over the rocks. The sound soothing to ears worn out from diplomatic meetings.
"It is a beautiful fountain, Master," Sage says, having seen some very ugly representations of fountains. And clean and well tended, though he does not say so. Everything he has seen or smelled has been clean and well tended. Not all nobles are...clean or well tended.
"I like the quiet of this garden especially. Apart from my Lady Mother and my Lord Father, no others except those who tend it may enter without my permission." His pride pours from him. "I am glad you like it." He looks up at the bright sun, again feels the wind in his hair.
Something clicks into place. "Ohhhhh..." Maybe that's another reason why it was so overwhelming at first!! There aren't very many people or animal smells in here at all. Only the manure used in the soil and the fish and insects; the people smells are faint.
As the sun touches him and the breeze stirs him, he thinks further about Sage. Though he is bastard and not pure of blood, is not the castle in part his, too? If he wishes to bestow it. If his Father does. He cannot deny his pleasure at being the one true son and heir of his Lord Father...and yet...his father did not hesitate to mate with someone other than his Lady Mother. Did she know? Certainly not of Sage but of his Lord Father's proclivities? Are there more like Sage? Jaken has not said so, but he wonders.
"Master?" He hesitates to ask, but now the sticky is starting to bother him. "Master? May I...may I...what must I do with the plum pit?"
Sesshoumaru frowns. Give it to a servant to plant or grind or dispose of? He can't say that to Sage. He holds out his hand. "I will...dispose of it." Somewhere.
He can do nothing but obey, so he carefully puts the well cleaned pit into Master's hand. "Yes, Master, thank you Master." He pauses again. "Master?"
"Yes, little one?" he asks, genuinely interested in the question that might be coming, another stimulation to a mind too accustomed to the familiar.
He hesitates, but he has to do something. "Master, may I clean my hands, please? Maybe...in the brook?" Certainly not in the fountain!! "They're sticky," he says then shrinks a bit. He prefers to be clean, but more than that he doesn't want to make Master unclean...and he wants to be able to touch Master at least a little. Maybe.
Sesshoumaru's eyes light. He shifts and places Sage at his feet. Then he takes the small sticky hand into his own and begins to lick and suckle each slender digit with obvious pleasure.
He is surprised that Master does not say anything, but he is even more surprised when he finds himself on his knees in the grass and his fingers are being sucked clean in Master's mouth. By the second finger he is panting and flushed with pleasure and warmth in his belly. "Master..." he can't help moaning. It is so very much not what he had expected that the surprise is half the pleasure!
When he finishes with one little hand, a final swipe across the palm for good measure, he looks with bright and knowing eyes into Sage's. "It seems Master and slave get along particularly well." He takes the other hand into his own, and the knowledge strikes him with unalterable certainty that when he fits the collar on the boy, he will tell him of his parentage. He sucks contentedly.
Sage whimpers softly. "Master treats me so very kindly," he manages to stammer out.
Sesshoumaru at last releases the second hand. "Never think I am generous," he says softly. His selfishness is undeniable. For instance, he is choosing to sit in the sun with his slave rather than attending to the many trivial tasks expected of him by his father. He will likely bathe with his slave before bed. The collar will come when it is done. The tailor will come after their afternoon meal. Sage does not seem hungry. He sighs. His fur toys with Sage's contentedly. Perhaps they can just remain where they are.
Sage wavers. On the one hand, it is never his place to contradict Master. On the other...Master has been more generous to him than any person since his Mama was killed. He sits quietly at Master's feet, content to do so, licking the back of one hand briefly just to taste Master on him. He wants to tell Master...but he knows he cannot.
Sesshoumaru stretches. He often naps in the garden, but always alone. And not so early in the day, before he has attended to paperwork and decisions to be made about matters significant and mundane. Still, no one has come to gently and respectfully remind him of his duties...especially with Jaken gone. He will enjoy this respite. He strips off his haori and lies down on the bench in the sun. "Perhaps my slave would like to continue tending to my needs? My shoulders are tense."
"Oh yes, Master," he says, happy to be given direction and happier still to feel the leash/collar around his neck still when he does. He is careful to move Master's hair, and careful not to touch his fur yet. Instead he grips Master's neck from beneath and closes his eyes and makes short, gentle tugs. He knows from experience this feels good and will help relax Master's shoulders. His hands are strong and with his claws blunted he doesn't have to worry about accidentally cutting Master. He never saw an upside to that before.
Sesshoumaru sighs and moves into Sage's skilled little hands. The sun warms him and he enjoys his escape from responsibility, the scent of his brother-slave enticing as he works.
He smiles a little as he feels Master begin to relax, and he begins to firmly massage and hold pressure spots to relax muscles further. When he thinks he has done all he can there, he moves to Master's shoulders again, firmly and without hesitation on one shoulder, the other, very very gently feeling how Master's fur is attached to him. Is it the same as his fur? Not exactly, but it is obliging about moving so he can find the way to relax Master's shoulders without hurting his fur. Doki moves to snuggle into Master's fur again as he works. "Does that feel good, Master?"
Without opening his eyes he answers: "My fur enjoys your touch, as does all of me. And your fur seems rather taken with its new Master as well." He stretches again, lithe and sinewy, enjoying the impact he has on Sage as well as the pup's skilled touch.
"Doki is much harder to make do what he should do without the collar and spells, Master," he says honestly. "He likes your big fur." Sage likes the big fur, too, but he is very careful around it, nonetheless. The last thing he wishes is to cause that kind of pain to Master. He would deserve every stripe he got if he did. His strong little hands work over Master's chest then down the arm that had not gotten massaged earlier.
"Doki?" Sesshoumaru asks, eyes opening.
He flushes under his tanned skin. "My fur, Master," he says, his eyes sliding away, but his hands, massaging down Master's strong arm never pause or falter.
He frowns, pondering, turning onto his side to look into Sage's eyes. "Does your fur...speak to you?" He hadn't considered that the child might be mentally unbalanced.
"Of course not, Master. Doki doesn't have a mouth," as though that were perfectly obvious.
"How do you know your fur's name then?" This is puzzling...and interesting, to say the least. He is impressed, meanwhile, with the boy's skill in massage. He seems to know musculature, pressure points, areas needing balance. A lot for one so young, especially a slave.
He is careful with Master's elbow. It is clear this is Master's sword arm. "I don't know; it's what I have always called him, Master." As though in response, Doki unwinds from the larger fur and returns to curl around Sage's midsection, tail end slipping into his robe to touch his skin.
Sesshoumaru holds out his hand but does not otherwise move. "I am your Master too, Doki," he says firmly, quietly, waiting to see if the fur will come to him.
Sage trembles a little, even knowing Master's touch on his fur does not hurt, has not hurt and if it does it is Master's right. He tries to encourage Doki to go to Master. Doki never has. And he drops to his knees when Doki makes it clear that his alliance is first to the hanyou he is attached to. Sage hides his face in his hands as his fur wraps around and around him, unwrapping and stroking his skin, trying to soothe him, he knows...but the fur does not go to Master's hand. Tears leak out AGAIN. This will displease Master, and he will be punished and he might as well run away now if he couldn't obey such a simple directive. He cannot even voice his apology to Master, and still Doki will not leave off trying to comfort him instead of going to that strong, elegant hand.
Sesshoumaru dislikes being disobeyed, but of course this was no real test, merely an experiment. His own fur does not obey him, let alone anyone who might wish to command it--though no one ever has (even if his father does know how to coax it). "Do you wish Doki to obey me, Sage?" he asks, ignoring the tears for the moment.
"I tried, Master...I did...I didn't want to disobey you...I didn't want Doki to disobey you...I didn't..." He struggles to keep the tears back and Doki floofs and for once, he cannot suss out why exactly. His errant fur wriggles beneath his hands to soak up the traitor tears and he wants to hug his fur the way it likes at the same time he wants to scream at it to obey Master.
"I cannot ask for more than that, can I? My fur rarely obeys me either. But I worry over these tears, little one. Do your best, always. And if you must be punished, you must. Surely you have taken worse than I will ever give you." He cannot resist but taking the boy into his arms. He is so resilient yet so vulnerable. And...his kin. His fur wraps the boy and wraps around what Sage calls "Doki" to get at those tears. "I confess I don't think my fur would let me punish you right now even if I chose to!"
His face is hidden in fur, his and Master's. Master doesn't understand. Master doesn't understand that "doing your best" is never good enough. Master doesn't understand how new it is to want to obey, to please a Master. He doesn't understand how frightening it is to think that maybe he didn't want Doki to obey exactly even if he didn't want his fur to DISobey. Punishment is unavoidable. He knows this. But punishment when you want to obey and please is so much different than when no one cares whether you are still breathing in the morning, if you are sick or starving as long as you make a profit for whomever is selling or buying you. Masters can always, ALWAYS ask for more than a slave may be capable of and punish them for not doing it no matter how much they try to do their best. And he doesn't like to cry. He screams often enough when he's being beaten, though he can take quite a lot before that point, but crying like a baby...he forced that part of himself out before he got his second brand.
Sage's scent is a complex mess Sesshoumaru simply cannot sort out. It draws and repels, mostly compels. Time is needed to learn the boy, who he is, why he is not easier to read. Are all slaves so? He doubts it, just as he doubts that he would feel as he does about any other slave but this one. "Sage," he says tasting again the foreign name in his mouth. "I would get no pleasure from punishing you right now. I wonder what I should do about that." He tries hard to smile, to lighten the mood. But he is concerned...no ordinary slave would please him so much, rouse him so deeply, but this will not be a simple matter of enjoyment and dismissal when he is busy. Sage may be a bit more to handle than he anticipated.
His breath hitches in his chest as he struggles to stop the tears, and after a few more moments, he is successful. He is not calm, not inside by any means, but at least he is back in control of himself on the outside. He sits quietly in Master's arms, his fur, his head down as much as Master's fur will allow. "I am sorry, Master." Good. His voice doesn't even tremble. "I will be a better slave for you now, Master." Please...
His tears taste more foreign, perhaps, than anything else about him. Not only of the lesser hanyou mix of his heritage but of a life so foreign to Sesshoumaru as to be positively exotic. A life as heir to the West has given him access to diverse peoples through diplomacy and even the spoils of war, but even that does not touch what it is in Sage that draws him. He sighs as he holds the strange little slave. "I know you will, little one."
He is grateful for the reprise to calm himself further. Master is warm and...and...comforting. Something no Master or Mistress has ever been. He does not doubt he will be punished, if not for this transgression then for something else. That's all right, though. It will be something familiar at least. His head stays down though as he asks, tentatively, "How may I serve you, Master?"
Sesshoumaru smiles. "You know, I've half a mind to give you a sound spanking, just to assure you that I can and will punish you for misbehavior. You seem so very concerned about it, though I can't imagine I smell of anything but curiosity and enjoyment of the newness of having a slave. So...before I hike your behind and make it cherry red, pup, tell me how you understand my scent at this moment. What does your master smell of?"
He tips his head slightly to one side and breathes Master in. "Curiosity and enjoyment, yes, Master. But also...concern and...and...concern?" He chews his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Like...Master does not know exactly what to make of me. I am too different or...or..." He shakes his head and then says shyly, not coyly..."Master does smell as though he enjoys touching me. I'm glad for that."
The old gardener grumbles to himself. Not a messenger rat, no, he is NOT. But unless there were a dire emergency guards were not permitted to set foot in the Lord's favorite garden. He had given that youngster a piece of his mind, so he had.
Sesshoumaru's grin broadens. "I enjoy when you are honest, and forthcoming. I know it is new to you, but it will become familiar." He kicks off his soft boots to have Sage rub his feet. He rarely lets them be touched, for he trusts few with their tenderness. A vicious foe he may be, but his feet need the softness of silk and a careful touch. He knows Sage will know how to touch them. He ponders the comment about concern, for of course he is. Serious but not worried, for he has confidence in his abilities and his choices. Sage is a good choice.
Sage kneels in the grass gladly, then shifts to sit so that he may cradle the foot in his lap as he begins to stroke the top of Masters foot, feeling through it before beginning his massage. He finds a problem straight away in Master's ankle and looks up. "Master? Your ankle..." He hesitates. He can tell it is not paining Master, and it is a small thing but..."It needs a small adjustment, if Master will allow? I...I do not know that it will be entirely...comfortable but Master will feel better for it..." His voice trails off as he bends his head over Master's foot.
Guards, thought the gardener, had big heavy feet and big heavy heads and not enough sense to step carefully in a garden so carefully brought to fruition and tended with such love as he and his staff did. March into the walled garden to announce a wolf prince indeed!! Perhaps when he died and his body was feeding the cherry trees, would he allow such a thing!!
Sesshoumaru frowns a little. His ankle? He had not noticed anything...well...perhaps he had, but was used to it. His father often admonished him for not allowing healers or others to examine and keep his body in alignment. But his slave...this special slave...yes. He will allow it. "You have my permission."
Sage dips his head further over the lovely foot. "Thank you, Master," he murmurs as his fingers move back up to the joint. They are gentle and then firm when he assess what exactly the problem is and how to fix it, which he does with a quick twist, a small crack and then a stroking, soothing massage down Master's calf to the ankle to guard against any offended muscles or cords. He breathes in and out, slowly and purposefully as he does so.
Sesshoumaru winces, disliking even this show of weakness in response to the small pain, but it was unexpected, sudden. And his claws instantly react. But he holds back a moment, and quickly regains perfect control. And his ankle... He rotates it in Sage's grasp. "You are quite a wonder, Sage. I've killed men for giving me less pain than that." But he smiles, and knows Sage will pick up the scent of his pleasure.
The old squirrel pauses to take a breath before he gets to the garden doors, his small fingers grooming his fluffy tail calmingly. He is not a messenger boy. But he would hardly trust this to one of his younger staff. Skilled and enthusiastic they may be...but the garden is his pride and joy and the Lord's enjoyment of it is his enjoyment. Though there is more than a touch of grey in his hair and atop his round tufted ears and plumed tail, his liquid black eyes are as sharp as ever.
Sesshoumaru smells the approach of an unwanted visitor. It is merely the old gardener, but he wanted this space for himself and Sage. "What is it?" he calls over his shoulder, though the man is still far from them.
He doesn't flinch from the sudden appearance of the claws or Master's scent of poison. It is more important that he keep his hands doing what they are meant to be doing now, and Master's scent smiles again soon enough and he smiles at Master's words. "Master is very patient with his slave," he says, looking up for a moment then going to work on the rest of Master's foot. He can tell it takes a careful touch. The person Master is talking to is of no concern to him, he can smell at once.
That boy...he cannot help but smile to himself. Grown into a fine young Lord he has. He pushes the door open and makes his way over to the large bench where the young Master is seated being serviced by one he does not know. He kneels and bows though, more gracefully and fluidly than his apparent age would seem to indicate. "My Lord, I have been sent to inform you that young Prince Kouga from the Mountain Wolf Tribe is here and wishes an audience with my Lord Sesshoumaru." He pauses and frowns a little, trying to remember what all the guard said and he shakes his head. "The guard, he were in a right tizzy, my Lord...wantin' to send one or five of his heavy footed clods into your garden." He blinks the big, black eyes typical of his people and asks, "How does my Lord wish this old gardening servant to proceed?" That at least sounded right proper. He isn't used to having to stand on ceremony even for the Lord and Lady!

Sesshoumaru huffs, but leaves his foot in Sage's capable hands. "You did right to keep those monsters out of my garden, Risu." He can just imagine the fussy squirrel stomping and flailing his arms at them. "Tell the Prince he may come, but he must leave his guards in the Hall. Or send those ravenous wolves to the kitchens. That will keep them occupied." He inhales, surprised at Sage's concentration, his ability to keep to task and restrain his curiosity. Not that Kouga will allow that to continue, of course. But he will enjoy showing off his little prize to the mangy cur.
"Just as you say, my Lord, thank you. Last I knew those two yahoos who are always hangin' around with him and the four-leggers were playin' with the dogs. But send 'em all to the kitchen, I will." He bows again and rises, pausing once to pull an errant weed, and again to check the lilies in the koi pond and then makes his way back to the Great Hall to relay Lord Sesshoumaru's message.
Wolf prince. The gardener smelled nicely of soil and nuts and fruits. And he was a squirrel. That was interesting, too. He works carefully on his Lord's toes while he thinks. He wishes he had his collar, but at least Master has his leash collar.
He enjoys the scent of Risu's petulance. Never varies, and he's smelled that way for all of Sesshoumaru's life. He relishes new challenges and excitement, but the familiar has its own importance. He enjoys the way he describes Kouga's pack, too. Then he picks up Sage's scent...mild curiosity, a bit of concern... He reads what might be insecurity and takes up the leash, tugging just a bit so Sage will feel it. I have you, pup. You are owned.
Sage tips his head up at the tugging, just a bit, his eyes closed with a little hint of a smile somewhere on his face. "Thank you, Master," he whispers as he continues his devotions to Master's toes. Nearly done with this foot...
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Sesshoumaru's Slave