Surface Tension

Manny hummed around the gag in content, always loving words of praise or affirmation. He couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing that he enjoyed pleasing others no matter what position he took. He knew what was coming next, yet he wasn’t at all prepared for one the strangest sensations of his life. With how long that ice had been inside him, it left the walls of his ass still numbed and frozen, however, he wasn’t completely lost of feeling. He could certainly feel Hadrian’s intrusion stretching the ring of muscle and further inside. The best way the shifter could describe it was a faint and chilly tingling ache. He wondered what it must have felt like for Hadrian on the other end. 

The slave moaned softly, his features contorting in mild discomfort and concentration for a moment as he only had a second to adjust to everything before the new enforcer went to work. No surprise, the friction from each thrust produced yet another series of tingling in his nerve endings. Manny couldn’t decide if it was more painful or pleasurable or a balanced combination of both. Once the mershark found his rhythm, the faster pace produced a bit more warmth and feeling as moments passed. Now he could safely decide this felt fucking incredible with every thrust brushing against his warmed up prostate. Out of habit, he tried to speak, begging Hadrian for more and more of what he was getting while he bucked his hips in time with the other man’s hand around his already leaking cock, but his words came out incoherently with the gag. 

Soon the enforcer’s efforts sent Manny’s brain into autopilot, the knot of arousal hot and tight in his lower belly completely taking over. His grunts and groans echoed in the room along with skin against skin, abdominal muscles tightening with every breath. Oh, it sure wouldn’t be much longer until he was climaxing as the slave practically sprinted towards that edge of sweet release and felt it ready to explode at any given moment. He whined desperately into the gag in hopes that Hadrian would understand his warning, as much as he was trying so hard to hold out until he received permission. 

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There was something so intensely sexy about a boy who knew his place and loved being in it. Despite the sounds issuing forth from Manny being wordless, Hadrian could tell a contented or pleasured sigh from a disdainful grunt any day of the week. His hips kept up their pace - his cock pounding into the shifter in front of him, quick for a moment before he’d slow it down; letting the other feel every inch slowly sliding across his prostate. “See. This is what good boys get. You’re gonna stay a good boy, aren’t you? No more claws? Right?” He punctuated with a deep thrust - his balls pressing up against Manny’s taint as his cock plunged. The tightness around him was lovely - and the friction of his thrusts was causing warmth to begin to spread; Hadrian had always been a fan of ice play but this was something he’d have to try again. 

Leaning over, his voice low and sultry - Hadrian whispered to the shifter moaning beneath him. “You’re glad you picked me, aren’t you?” He chuckled, thrusting against the other’s prostate - angling it so that the length of his cock would slide along that little bundle of nerves. “Much better than getting gangfucked by a bunch of limp-dicked guards, huh?” He tightened his grip on the other’s length - stroking with a slight twist to his wrist. Hearing those pleading whimpers around the gag - Hadrian chuckled to himself. 

“Cum if you want, slut. We’re not done.” At that, Hadrian picked up speed - the sound of his balls slapping into the Manny’s thighs filling the room. Hadrian’s hand not currently wrapped around the boy’s throbbing cock gripped his hip hard as he rutted. The boy had a wonderful hole and Hadrian could feel his own release approaching but focused on his job. He’d breed him once he had him in the sling. 

“Hm.” He hummed as he listened to what he was saying, if the slave was being truthful it did seem rather romantic. Of course, they would say anything considering the circumstances in which they found themselves to be in. Not that he thought he was lying, but perhaps it wasn’t the whole truth of it. Regardless, it had done some damage, though he didn’t think the ring was of any real threat now. From what he could feel the magic within the ring was low, as though it needed a recharge, suppose it was used often enough in this way. “It might have been used that way. Hard to really know the motive.” He continued to examine the ring itself, raising it up with his mind so he didn’t physically touch it. 

When he felt he had gotten a good look at it he put it down, standing up straight he turned to the enforcer, Arms loosely coming to cross over his chest as he began to see the worry cross his face. “Since you’re standing here, it’s very doubtful that you’re dead.” He’d say, a small smirk settling on his features. “It seemed the first person to touch it got the brunt of the curse. Though if you start feeling off in any way, let me know.” The reaction to which the other guard went through had him thinking that it was in some way to protect the wearer if they ever happened to be in trouble. The only problem with that is there were more than one people around to stop it from happening. 

“Not much, I’m afraid, depending on how powerful the caster is.” He shrugged, this seemed more like childs play to him, though that might not be the same sentiment to someone who wasn’t fully aware of such magic. “I can dispel whatever is left of the magic then it’ll be your normal ring that can be dealt with however you see fit if it doesn’t break in the process.” At least it was an easy fix to deal with, anything stronger would have taken him quite some time to deal with. Even with the collar off, magic was often some of the most complex things in the world, which makes it difficult to handle if unprepared. 

“I should be able to handle it with the collar on, no need to worry.” He said with a soft smile, he didn’t want to ruin an opportunity to get that drink… and anything else. Taking the ring from the desk he placed it within his palm, he looked at it once more for a moment before he closed his eyes. Muttering words under his breath the ring in question began to vibrate, the muttering continued faster as the ring moved even more until it stopped. The shadow of the magic seeped from the metal, moving above it for a moment before dissipating. “There. Should not be a problem any longer.”

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There was a way in the which the other went about explaining the magic in place that Hadrian appreciated. He didn’t dumb things down but neither did he try to unnecessarily show how intelligent he was. Just an explanation kept simple. Hadrian could indulge that. “I will admit - magic outside of elemental energies tends to allude me but I’m glad I didn’t accidentally blow myself up so thank you for assuaging that particular concern.” He chuckled, eyeing the ring with a little bit more respect now. If he had been careless - there was every chance he would’ve thrown himself through the window out into the sun and ripped his ring off. And who was nearby strong enough to stop him? A curse that brought about suicidal impulse was not something he wished to tangle with. 

When Emmett mentioned that he should be able to dispel what remained within the band without the need of removing his collar - Hadrian grinned. He liked confidence, even over the simple things. He watched closely as the man touched the ring - muscles tensed in case anything untoward suddenly happened. As the ring spun and shook in his palm and he watched shadows pull themselves free of the metal - curling into the air before fading away as if a light had been turned on inside the darkness; Hadrian offered an appreciative nod. “I...wow.” He said, shrugging slightly at the other’s proclamation that the ring was now nothing more than a bit of jewelry.

“That...was easier for you than I expected, color me impressed. Even if it wasn’t impressive, just pretend it was.” He smirked, taking the ring from his palm and spinning it on it’s edge at the tip of his finger. Tossing it in his desk drawer, he’d give it to one of the magical consultants tomorrow - let them see if there was any knowledge to be gleaned from it. “Well - with that all out of the way; feel like that drink? I’m done for today, got nothing else to do.” He took a step closer, his lips curling into a grin a little naughtier than the one before it. 

“For the most part.”  Mal repeated with a snort, sounding more amused than offended since he was more than sure that Hadrian didn’t at all mind his company.  The vampire settled back in his chair a bit more, swirling his drink around in the glass as he let his gaze roam along the bar before it settled back on the other man.  “Secretary, assistant, same thing at the end of the day to me.  But, yeah, I think you’re more than important enough to have one of those.”  He reassured Hadrian, grinning a bit.  “You think about it, you really only answer to the council for stuff, so you’re pretty damn high up on the food chain here.”  And not just because he also had the title of master.

A smirk slipped across his lips, eyebrows raising slightly.  “You’re not wrong.  Don’t think there’s many slaves down there that I’d let fuck me, anyway.”  With that, he could be a little pickier.  It’d take someone like Hadrian to get him to agree and there weren’t exactly a lot of slaves built like the man in front of him.  “Maybe.  Feel like every time I go down there, none of ‘em have really ever screamed top to me.”  A second later, the vampire nodded, his expression turning a little pensive.  “I guess that’s a thing for me too.  Not a big fan of just forcing myself on someone unless they’re some kind of eager for it.  Think we might be the odd ones out in a castle like this, though.”

“What, right here?”  He chuckled, though Mal was by no means a prude.  He’d lost any aspect of that centuries ago.  “Bold, but I wouldn’t say no.”

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He swirled the contents of his glass, eyeing his ink-stained hands through the drink as the other spoke - nodding silently to himself. “Yeah, I think it might be worth while. I might put out feelers for one, I dunno. I don’t really want a slave to do it but I also don’t want a Master. I’d need actual staff so I’ll ask around.” He was mostly just talking to himself, clucking his tongue against the inside of his cheek. 

He chuckled at Malcolm’s next comment, nodding along. “When I’m right, I’m right.” Glancing at the other man with a lifted brow, he idly knocked his knee into Malcolm’s. “I’m used to be the odd one out though. Was born one, have...mostly lived as one. Will probably meet final death as one at some point, who knows. I don’t mind it though. If nothing else - it helps keep up the right kind of hope. Not that they’ll...y’know, escape or anything but that they might get claimed by somebody who’s...nice? I guess? I don’t think I’m exactly...nice but...you get the idea. There’s a difference between a master like you and a master like uh...some of the Council, let’s say.” He grinned, sipping at his drink. 

“It’s all just a mindgame in the end. As fucked as that is.” Hadrian shrugged, turning a little bit on the couch to face Malcolm with a devilish smirk. He spared a glance around, at the number of people milling about the bar before looking back. “I mean...I’m not typically one for putting on that kind of show, I was more talking about getting out of here and heading back up to your room. But...if you want an audience for getting your back blown out, we could do that. A lot of people would probably be impressed by how hard you can take it.”

He could’ve cried with relief. “Yes sir…. No claim. Thank you…” The end was a little less than a whimper as he made his way in. He felt so damn hot, he peeled his shirt off, placing it on a chair not wanting to make a mess before he dropped his pants and leaned forward. Heat was strange. It made him offer himself up to people he hardly knew, and people he’d never met. Such as the instance in this moment.

It was tempting to stroke himself, already firm from the brief promise of being filled up that Taryn all but shuddered at the cool air meeting his skin while he closed his eyes and chewed his lower lip. He wanted to praise the other, thank him some more but his submission would have to do for the moment.

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Hadrian’s brows knit together as the boy practically ran into his office, pulling his shirt off along the way. It always tugged at him a little bit, seeing people lose themselves to their functions despite any wishes they might’ve had otherwise. There was a part of him that still found it unbelievably hot however and thus - he didn’t much complain. Stepping back inside his office, he shut the door and locked it. He heard the boy’s pants hit the ground behind him and he turned to glance over, giving an admiring whistle as the sight before him. 

Taryn had been wandering, for a multitude of reasons. Wandering to make himself occupied, wandering to avoid giving himself over to people he hardly knew. But this heat… it was searing through his veins and making him feel shaky. Weak, even. Susceptible to doing crude things far out of his comfort zone, and yet… He so eagerly needed someone touching him, riding him, inside him. He needed that closeness, that warmth that he couldn’t quite explain. 

And so as he wandered into a hall he’d never been down before, he felt nervous but hopeful that he could satiate himself in some way. Whether he do so privately or…. with another party. Still, he heard someone call out to him and wandered into the office, eyeing the man behind the desk and cleared his throat. “S-sorry, sir… I just.” His words got caught in his throat looking at hte other like a man starved for weeks. “I just need someone to….” 

Taryn was not easily able to express himself but he met the others gaze, hoping that his flushed cheeks and his moving from foot to foot would clue the other in. “I need someone. Anyone.”

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One hand still clamped to the door handle, the other bringing the cigarette from his lips - Hadrian looked the boy up and down as he approached. Shaky, flushed, stammering, sweaty. All the hallmarks of heat. For a moment - Hadrian considered just simply shutting his door and making his way back up to his suite, letting someone else deal with this but the poor thing did look miserable. As Taryn began to shuffle from foot to foot - mumbling to himself, their gazes meeting; Hadrian sighed. 

“You’re not claimed, correct? It’s...Bannon, right? Taryn Bannon or do I have you mixed up with someone else?” He didn’t think the boy had a master as of yet but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been a development on that front he simply wasn’t aware of. A lot of files passed his desk every day. 

“You should’ve made your escape a little sooner, then.  You’re stuck now.”  Mal couldn’t help but laugh at the way that Hadrian was grinning at him, settling back in his own seat.  The vampire hadn’t been joking, seriously considering stopping by Hadrian’s office later – if nothing else, then to have the company.  The other man was always good for that and more.  His eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at the corners of the master’s lips.  “How klutzy of you.  Maybe they should look into hiring you a secretary for that shit, huh?  Not dignified for the enforcer to be walking around with stained fingers.”  He teased, his smirk gentling for a moment into a small smile.

He shrugged, tapping his fingers lightly against his glass.  “Nah, mostly just to bug you.  Though i was thinking of asking for any suggestions you have in regards to slaves.  Afraid I’m getting picky the older I’m get.”  His smile was a little wry before a snort escaped the younger man.  “Believe me, Hadrian, not a damn thing about that night is fuzzy.  You’ve always known how to leave an impression.”

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There was the asshole part of Hadrian that wanted to book it the second Malcolm mentioned ‘being stuck’, but he clubbed it over the head with another sip of his whiskey and a chuckle at the joke. “Nah, ‘stuck’ implies I don’t like you. You’re fine...for the most part.” He grinned, winking at the other whilst he swirled the contents of his drink - almost empty and waved over the bartender. Ordering another for himself and a request that Malcolm’s be refilled when needed - he settled further into the couch. 

He glanced back down at his hands, an almost embarrassed smile on his features. “’Dignified’.” He said, the word feeling awkward in his mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called ‘dignified’ a day in my life. But...you’re probably right. I should get a secretary or...I dunno, an assistant? Important people have assistants, don’t they? Am I an important person? I feel like it’s more...necessary than important.” Hadrian had never considered it before - that he might hold an esteemed position. He was asked to be the Enforcer and he took up the mantle without question but it always felt like a job, not something to lord over others. 

“...Afraid I’m getting picky the older I’m get.”

Without missing a beat, Hadrian replied; “That’s because none of them fuck you the way you need.” Deadpan, despite the smile and lifted eyebrow. “Granted - we have some tops down in the pens but y’know, a real power-bottom like yourself needs a firm hand and a firmer cock...” He couldn’t help the stifled laugh that escaped out of him - not able to even complete the sentence without breaking. He gently slapped Malcolm’s arm, shaking his head. “Nah, nah - I feel you. Honestly...I...” He shrugged. “...I’ve always preferred men who want it? And granted - a lot of the slaves want it, trust me. But...you can never be certain? Well, I suppose mind-readers can be but that’s not my wheelhouse. I just hit stuff and fuckin’...what is it? Waterbend?” Sipping at his new drink, he smirked at the compliment. 

“Always willing to leave another impression, Mr. Rossi.” He winked. 

The slave in front of him had his head bowed and Hadrian looked him up and down. “It was not up to you to make that decision. If another slave is having a rough time, perhaps spare a moment to ask your master if he’d be willing to either let you help out your friend or to fuck ‘em himself. You don’t make those calls. Your master asked for isolation for one day. I’m granting that.” He nodded to the two guards who took the slave even as he mildly protested and strode out of the room. Sighing to himself, Hadrian leaned back in his chair - stretching his arms out and rubbing absently at his eye. 

At least he didn’t have to worry about Angel. Small blessings and all that. 

It was the last case of the day and shutting down his laptop, he flipped it closed and pushed in his desk chair. Lighting a cigarette, he made his way out of his office - noticing a shape heading down the hallway towards him. “Need something?” He called down to him with a half-wave. “Tell me before I lock this door because once it’s locked I am off the clock.” 

He’d felt lower than low, and a fear welled up within him when Hadrian dismissed the guards who’d brought him. Sucking in a shaken breath, lips would part ever so slightly to say something but to his surprise, he’d been lifted up with ease and the other was helping him with his clothes. He was confused, brows stitching together as he’d eye him closely, his heart beating hard within his chest. JJ would do as he was asked though, rushing to fix himself and make his way to sit on the opposite side of the desk across from the other. His head would hang low like a puppy that had done something wrong, but he’d slowly lift it, eyes now meeting the other’s own as he continued to speak. A part of him felt bad for having been so mean and sympathized, and the other part had disagreed. Still, he remained quiet until he was finished, a long pause of silence filling the empty while he tried to put his words together. “You’re not— You’re not despicable. I–” he’d shake his head, a hand reaching up to rub his temple. “I– I didn’t mean that. I….” he’d stand from the chair, and make his way back over, sitting on top the desk for a moment to collect himself. He was being risky sharing his secret but– he didn’t know who else to talk to or who would even listen to help but– he had to try. “I was mad, and that was mean of me. I’m sorry.”

Pulling a strand of his hair, he’d carefully take the other’s hand gently into his own, palm side up. Then placing the strand within his palm, he’d close it, fingers curling around it protectively. His heart was racing, and he was sure that his parents would lose their minds for doing what he was he was doing, but he figured it was best to explain. “I am not only fae…..it’s hard to pick up the other half, but I am also a spirit. Making me a Vila.” Though in the way the other had spoken, it would seem that Hadrian had been quite old enough to have possibly come across his kind. “Someone….in this castle has one of these, and they’ve used it to get to me and my family. I am–” he’d pause, dropping his head to calm himself. “I am giving this to you, so that you may help me find out who. Please. I need to know who killed my father. This will be my price.” JJ would pull his hands back to place within his lap. “I know I am a slave– and while I do not agree of the system that has been in place, I cannot hide who or what I am and– I’m trying. I just– I don’t want to be made to do something I don’t want to do. My whole life has been protecting myself of such things. I’ve lived this life, even before coming here, Sir.” His hands would ball into fists, and he’d peer up towards the other again. “You may think that simply following the rules, and abiding by the wants of a Master will keep me safe, but what I am, I cannot believe that. It only takes the wrong one to find out, and it’s over.”

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“You’re not— You’re not despicable. I–”

Hadrian held up one hand, a chuckle rising from his broad chest - a mirthless smirk settling onto his features. “No, no, no...” He protested, his voice low and simmering with amusement. “Don’t take it back. What is said in anger is most often the truth. You meant it. And...” He shrugged; “That’s...that’s fine. I am despicable. I’ll admit no one’s ever had the vocabulary to call me such but I’ll wear it, shit. Why not? You meant it. Don’t cover your tracks, you meant it. You said it with your chest and I can respect that. Not many people have the balls to look at my mug and start throwing around insults, you’ve got courage if nothing else.” He raised the cigarette to his lips and drew in a heavy breath, choked with smoke that flourished in his lungs. For a moment, Hadrian imagined he could feel the cancer trying to grow - killed off by his own already-dead nature. 

As the kid drew in closer, sat down on his desk in a show of apparent ‘comfort’ around Hadrian - he eyed him as he began to speak, fiddling with a lock of his hair. The Enforcer’s eyes narrowed as he plucked the hair from his head and placed the strands into his palm and suddenly - it made at least a little bit more sense. As the boy explained, Hadrian nodded along with a small smile. “Vila...” He whispered just as the other said it as well. 

A memory twisted in the back of his mind. Early Germany, shortly after the arrival of the Romans. He’d been studying with her. A witch in the woods - a wise woman of incalculable power. She’d been helping Hashut come to grips with his magic, learn how to summon the rain, how to manipulate the fluids of a person inside their own body. A Vila had stolen from her - a mirror. She had ripped out a handful of his hair as he tried to flee. 

The witch was not kind to him. 

“Your price for what?” Hadrian asked, his voice hard. He turned his gaze up to the creature before him, his brows knitted together in both confusion and frustration. He placed the hair on his desk, his head cocking to the side. “It is one thing to be a slavemaster. It is one to thing to claim ownership of someone else. It is entirely different to...” He looked back to the lock of dark strands. 

“It is different to hold the puppet’s strings.” He said finally. “However...you are property and if someone has a piece of you that gives them control they did not pay for, that will be dealt with.” Raising his gaze, he caught Jeremiah’s eyes with his own. “I will help you to the best of my ability to deal with this but it is not for you. It is for the sake of the property of Krovs castle and a potential security breach, am I understood on that clarification. Secondly...” He pointed to the strands. “That as well as any other hair found belonging to you that is not on your head will be destroyed. You never give away a strand of your hair again. Not even to me. Unless payment has been made and all the ‘t’s are crossed and the ‘i’s dotted, you never do that again. I have half a mind to shave you fuckin’ bald and burn all the hair I take off.” He knew his voice was harsh and Hadrian worked on softening his tone. Mellowing the frustration that this problem suddenly assaulted him with. 

   Angel looked to the piece of paper where his handwriting was scrawled small and neat across the page. Years of practice, years of study– showed in each stroke. It was all he had. Something to focus on. He didn’t mind Hadrian looking over what he had been working on; he had no reason to hide it from the other. It had been made clear that he could have his books and write as much as he pleased. It was almost relieving to use a real pen again, instead of the small pencils he could hide in his socks.

   The slave offered a kind smile, knowing that there were still things they didn’t always see the same perspective on. Angel had long ago settled himself to the idea of being lesser than everyone else. Hadrian was kind; kinder than most in this place. “I wouldn’t mind the help.” He told the man softly, accepting that offer.

   The slave listened to the man as he spoke, trying his best to not feel rejected when the man didn’t seem willing to take what he offered. Anyone else would have taken– he could only wonder why the other didn’t? He swallowed at the word. Love. The concept felt foreign, like something drank when you were a small child that you could not name.

    “I’m sorry…” He found himself whispering. “I’m sorry I can’t…” He took in a deep breath. “I’m trying.” He said then. He wished that he wasn’t as broken as he was; that he was somehow capable of giving his feelings away freely and without fear. “I don’t mind.. helping you– I don’t do it out of obligation.” Truthfully, he wasn’t prone to offering his blood as he just assumed they’d take.

.

“I’m trying.”

It wasn’t rejection and that was all Hadrian had asked for. A little piece of hope, a butterfly he could stick in a jar and place on a shelf. An acknowledgement that there was something more. That he wasn’t just another means to an end. That he wasn’t just singing for someone else’s supper. His arms tightened automatically around Angel at the admission and he had to remind himself to be gentle - that the other was fragile to compared to him. “I know you are. I know, baby...I know.” Hadrian said; voice as soft as leaves. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the Nephilim’s cheek - a long, lingering kiss he had meant for the other’s lips but decided against at the last second. 

He wouldn’t take. No matter what. He would not take from Angel. Not unless freely given. But even under such circumstances - as Angel was willfully offering up his own blood; Hadrian found himself pausing. The idea wasn’t a bad one but the thought of hurting Angel in that manner was a paralysis all on it’s own. “It’s not about helping or being obligated, Angel.” He said, reaching across the table and pulling the tray bearing the meal he’d prepared over. 

“It’s about...I swore to you that I would never hurt you or allow you to be hurt by anyone and I fuckin’ meant it. And...” Hadrian shifted so that Angel could have easier access to the plate in his arms. “...and that includes me. I’m...I’m not like other vampires, I don’t know if you’ve seen me when I’m...changed over but it isn’t a pretty sight. I...I’m not opposed to drinking from you, please don’t think that. It’s not that it’s just...I’m terrified of hurting you...” It felt strange to be so honest but when had liberation ever been a pleasant experience? 

Hadrian was better this way though. He knew that. He knew the forthright approach would always be his travelled path. “How about...” His voice became low, a whisper meant only for the other’s ear. “How about you eat and then...” He sighed; “And then we can try? I...I do admit the thought is fuckin’ tantalizing. Drinking from you, having you tremble beneath my hands. Feed you a few drops of my blood, kiss my way down your chest...” Nuzzling into the side of Angel’s neck, Hadrian breathed deep - fighting down the toothsome shark beneath his flesh that begged to be let free. 

Enough time had passed now that Mal had developed a bit of a routine around the castle when he wasn’t busy with work.  Hitting the gym for a few hours, picking out one of the slaves to spend the night with when he couldn’t find a fellow master or one of the staff to distract him.  Pickings seemed slim at the moment, though, so Mal headed toward the one place in the castle that reminded him a bit more of home – the bar.  He’d ordered himself a whiskey laced with some fae blood when he spotted a welcome, familiar face and grinned, picking up his glass to make his way over toward Hadrian.

“And to think, I was about to head down to your office in a little bit to bug you.”  Mal teased, dropping down beside the other man and taking a swallow of his drink.  A content sigh escaped the vampire and he rested his arms against the bar.  “How’d work go?”

​

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He could finish it tomorrow, right? Of course he could. Probably. Maybe? As Hadrian stepped out of his office and locked the door - he knew he’d already made his decision even as he worked it over in his brain. Paperwork wasn’t going anywhere and it wasn’t urgent. Could he have stayed to do it? Sure. Did he want too? Nope. Glancing at his hands, stained with pen ink - he sighed as he made his way to the bar, planning on nursing his pounding headache with a stiff drink. 

The place was mostly empty when he arrived and for that, he was thankful. Loud noises were the last thing he needed as he ordered a bourbon with a shot of O-negative tossed in. Throwing himself down onto one of the leather couches at the edge of the room, he leaned back and closed his eyes - willing himself to relax at least a little bit. His drink came and he gave a thankful nod as more and more people began to file in. As the noise was beginning to pick up - the sounds of laughter, discussion, a little bit of music as the volume on the speakers were turned up - Hadrian would about to make his exit when he saw the man approaching. 

Looking Malcolm up and down, his mouth held a wry grin as the other sat down beside him. “I could guess - it was why I was trying to escape but you caught me anyway.” His tone was dry but he gave the other a cheesy grin to let him know he was just joking. Sipping at his bourbon, he shrugged at the second question and held out his hands - stained blue. “I wrote so much I had to refill my fountain pen and because I’m a fucking infant - I spilled.” He chuckled, the mental exhaustion of the day evident on his face. For a moment, Hadrian missed the old days - where the only thing he had to worry about was pulling some fucker’s head from his shoulders. Now he has to do math. 

He hated math. He glanced to Malcolm with a lifted eyebrow; “You were only to coming to bug me or did you actually need something though? You’re a friend, I don’t mind helping you out if you’re in it. I did tell you I’d give you a hand if you needed one though that was before I ate you out so if some of the details are fuzzy, I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

Skye would open his mouth to say something, but he almost found himself at a loss for words. He didn’t know what half of the things were in the room, let alone enough to ask to use them. “I honestly wouldn’t know where to begin,” he’d manage an awkward but short chuckle. Not to mention, Skye had never claimed anyone before and didn’t really have a need for such things. Then there was the part where he’d remained untouched himself for years since the fall of his beloved. He was never quite the same after that. His eyes would peer about again at all of the instruments that could be used, but he did not fluster or react at the thought of the pleasures that some of the tools brought. It was only when the other finally turned to look at him that he reacted in kind, mild surprise and embarrassment, even as he tried play it off or pretend he hadn’t cared. Eyes would flicker from Hadrian’s to something else, and then back again, not sure where to look. He’d clear his throat though as the other made his way towards him, lips just slightly parted and eyes now glued to him with every passing movement. His breath would nearly hitch in his throat, unused to the closeness, let alone from a complete stranger, and yet he had not been scared. If anything he’d been drawn in, surprised at such a gentle touch from the other. Skye would swallow thickly and look away, trying not to get too lost in such a small moment. Eyes would close, his touch letting his mind wander. 

When he’d been completely locked in, he’d finally noticed his position, struggling just slightly to keep himself up, his body weight weighing him down. He’d wondered where his vampiric strength had gone, or if that it was there but at least he could somewhat still reach. His head would drop back to look up at his tied wrists, curiosity overflowing from him. When Hadrian spoke again, Skye would drop his head to look towards him, the very word of calling him ‘Daddy’ leaving an odd taste in his mouth. He’d never once uttered such a thing. Not even to Remus. “How does one displease another in this situation?” He’d ask rather curiously. The other would walk behind him and Skye could feel his chest tighten, uncertain as to what to expect but then– 

“One.”

Skye would clench his teeth tightly, sucking in a breath while hands would ball into fists or clutch onto the chains. 

“Two.”

He’d could tell he was not healing fast enough, his elongated teeth threatening to puncture his lips if he had not been careful. Eyes would bore into the wall in front of him, eyes narrowed and practically ready to kill someone. This was a different kind of pain than he’d been used to, and yet he still felt that emotional pain had been even worse. That wouldn’t heal as fast as his skin would. More lashes came, each one sparring no light hand. He’d twist just slightly with each one, able to take it for the first few lashes, but as the other kept going, a curse would finally illicit past his lips, and for some reason, he’d felt a sort of anger. Moreso because it was persistent, like getting a tattoo. It just made the rest of him tingle, but he’d also been in pain. What had been the lesson to learn other than to put his trust in the other in knowing what they were doing? He did not understand, but slowly his hands would unfurl even if it had hurt like hell. “Ha– Daddy–” He’d get out between gritted teeth just before another had hit him. He’d finally bite into his lip and wince, a soft hum of something escaping him. He hadn’t meant to, but his mind was blank at the moment anyway. A part of him was about ready to yank the chain from the ceiling, but he felt himself growing weaker as his body tried to keep up with healing, animal blood clearly not as potent as people blood. 

.

“How does one displease another in this situation?”

Hadrian didn’t answer immediately. Twisting the implement in his grasp, he spent a minute gathering his thoughts as he drew closer to the vampire. Rolling his jaw, he considered a variety of responses. Most were meant to intimidate. A sort of mindgame to play with the slaves who ended up in situations so very similar to this. But that wasn’t what this was. Having Skylar hanging from his ceiling was a different animal altogether. He settled on the truth then. “Sangfroid. Tears. Reticence.” He spoke, his voice low thought not threateningly so. “Were you to forget I gave you a choice and a choice you made. Were you to forget you asked for this. That would be very displeasing.” 

Once the lashes had begun, the atmosphere shifted. Each strike brought about a hiss, a twist of the shoulders, a shudder down the spine. Each reaction was beautiful in it’s own way - a little chorus to each half-muted breath, drawn in too quick. The marks left behind were vivid, red and raised, raw and organic. The studded twines did their work well - shearing flesh and raising the most wicked of welts. But what Hadrian found strange was their resilience. Vampiric healing was one of the many ‘blessings’ their affliction inured them with. It was a miracle, a marvel to behold and yet...the welts remained, the skin still split. Another strike fell and Hadrian’s brow knit together as the ends of the wounds only barely began to knit back together. 

It was quick to be sure but nowhere near what it should’ve been. Marks that should’ve healed in seconds were taking several minutes. The whip cracked out again and at Skye’s hiss of the word ‘daddy’, Hadrian stopped. The arm reared back for another strike but something churning. 

Something distinctly wrong. 

He tossed the whip aside, letting it clatter to the floor as he moved to the man. Raising a hand, he ran it over the expanse of his back - the air turning to frozen vapor in only a moment. A soothing cold, an ice pack to an injury. “I...” He began but his words failed him. With gentle fingers, as soft as snow - Hadrian took Skye’s chin and pulled his gaze to his own. “Animal blood is one thing but...” He glanced back to the marks, only just beginning to fade. 

Despite what his boss seemed to think of him he actually enjoyed doing his job, and when he was called upon to look at something strange he was eager to figure out the solution. He was given the run down of what had happened, a newly acquired slave had brought with him a tainted piece of jewelry, a ring that had caused a reaction in one of the guards. He was told that the ring in question was being held at the office of the Enforcer, and so he made the trip down to his office. As he went he thought about what could possibly have been the cause of it, wanting to see the very item himself to get a better understanding of what was happening. 

When he arrived at the appropriate door he knocked on it, stepping back a half step as he waited for the door to be opened. When it was he was met with a tall and larger man, the Enforcer was not someone he had met before, at least, not this one. After stepping inside he took the others hand to shake, “Emmett, it’s nice to meet you too. Maybe we can get that drink later.” He’d chuckle, heck, he would have rather this be a friendly visit and not a working one. If nothing else, once this was settled they could easily go for those beers or that fuck, he was open to it. However, he moved to stand behind the desk to show him the ring in question. The Nephalem came in closer, eyeing the small artifact closely without touching it. 

“Looks to me to it was used as a form of protection, cursed in such a way that whoever took it off felt that compulsion.” He stated, he had seen such a thing be used before, as a way to keep valuables from being stolen or lost. It could have been the case here, but he wondered if they had spoken to the slave in question. “Did you speak to the slave?” He said, his hand hovering over the ring now feeling the shadow magic that had been used. “Luckily for us, it doesn’t seem to be of demonic origin. Just a ring that has been imbued with magic, and not the best kind either.” With some luck he could try to dispel it, as much as he can with the collar around his neck. He had access to most of his abilities, but they weren’t nearly as strong as they could have been. 

“I should be able to return it back to it’s original state. You are positive no one else has touched this? Have you?” He looked over to the broader man, not seeing any clear signs of the magics taint on him, but he seemed stronger than most. He turned his attention back to the ring again, “I think this was some small attempt to get back at whoever captured this slave. Knowing it would be removed from his body as soon as he got to the castle.”

.

Just because he was working didn’t necessarily mean he went blind. He didn’t know what he had expected but the rather attractive man striding into office hadn’t quite been it. At the ‘maybe’ to getting drinks, Hadrian nodded - seemingly intrigued but let it drop for the moment as the other got down to business. As the Nephalem began to examine the ring, taking due care to not actually touch it - Hadrian pulled the iPad over from where he’d left it on the desk and began to pull up the necessary documents regarding the slave. 

“I spoke to him briefly. He claims he didn’t know it was spelled. Said he was given it by a man somewhere back in the Americas a few hundred years ago as a sort of...I dunno, ‘promise’? It sounded romantic in any regard.” He quickly scanned through the document. “Yeah, here we go. He was picked up in New York City, had apparently been there for a while. He’s a faerie so...maybe a witch cursed the damn thing as protection if that’s what you’re saying it’s for.” 

“...You are positive no one else has touched this? Have you?”

Hadrian’s eyes went a little wide at that and he looked up to the other man, deer caught in the headlights for only a moment. “I...uh, yeah I touched it. Am I dead?” Hadrian knew a bit of magic but it was ingrained, something he’d been born with and only relating to the sea and other water. Anything outside of that specific purview and he was as clueless as a child. He’d been a warrior, not a scholar. “Well, now...I touched it after the guy who got compelled did. I was the one who wrenched it off his finger, I feel fine. I don’t feel...any particular way towards the ring or wanting to put it on like he did. When he did put it on, as I said - he went hostile. Swung at me, swung at his partner who was holding the slave by the other arm. He drew his gun and put the barrel in his mouth...” Clucking his tongue against the inside of his cheek - the Enforcer’s gaze was drawn back to the artefact. 

JJ was taken aback, startled at the boom of his voice that reverberated through him, but the young Vila kept a rather confident front in the way he stood as tall as he could without cowering away. He did not grow in the life of a slave. He’d been born free and lived outside the walls, and despite being the youngest of the siblings, JJ still had his strength to speak his peace. His fists would clench tightly at his sides, nails digging into his palm to try and calm himself. Anything to not cry any more than he already had. He was quiet, the rise and fall of his chest giving away his rather young and inexperienced anger. The injustice he felt. It wasn’t until he was grabbed and ring taken did he finally react, a look of pure loss washing over his face. Eyes would blink in panic, fear, and hurt and tears threatened to overflow. A figure that had experienced his own loss, standing rather heartbroken in front of the other. The only love JJ had experienced had been familial, and there someone was, snatching it away from him. His breath had shaken, but he could not help his honest thoughts. Even if the other mocked them. “You are despicable,” he’d finally manage to get out, utter disbelief that someone could say things so horrid and to actually believe in them. “How can you sit there, day by day in your fancy chair and spelled castle, and be okay that we are treated as such? I was not there for your war. I did not do anything wrong, but be born in your reign.” The Vila would suck in a breath to calm himself, tugging lightly at his wrist. Even if he could not run, he would at least distance himself, not wanting to break completely. There had to be someone in the castle that understood. Someone who’d been gentle, was not meant to be here, and it became more and more evident the longer he stayed. “I am not a toy. I am not a thing, and for you to think that of me and all the others is wrong. Vampires might be dead, but surely they’ve experienced the fragilities of life at some point. No one is ever truly, that heartless.” He’d aggressively wipe his cheek that had gotten wet, not caring of the hole he’d dug himself into. He could not understand how someone could just stand there, and be the way he was. It was pent up emotions that exploded, even if he hadn’t meant to be so mean. It wasn’t like him at all. 

–but JJ would calm, the carefulness the other displayed in giving his father’s ring back to him making him want to sob all over again, though he would wait when he was alone. “Please, please listen.” He’d nearly weaken, practically begging for someone to just listen. It was more than just being taken and enslaved. It was that no one bothered to ask him what happened or even believed him. Believed in him. Yet, the other wanted JJ to believe. He couldn’t. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” He’d managed again, but this time, it wasn’t about what happened in the Undercroft. 

Standing rather defeated, he’d watch as the other retreated and once he’d gotten what he needed, he’d spoken up again, only to anger the other, causing him to wince. He’d stand beside the other, staring at the other as if a gaze could kill a person. He did not move right away, his thoughts moving a mile every second that he stood there. He’d wanted to protest, to deny the other of what was demanded of him. Everything was unfair, and he hated this so called ‘Enforcer’. JJ removed the article of clothing that was asked of him, and stepping closer to the other, his hand would rest upon his shoulder, now shaken at being exposed and his pride being taken from him. He’d had breathed short breaths to calm himself, and carefully he’d rather awkwardly fell into the other’s lap, his ass on full display. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to hold onto, or what was expected, but he’d curl just sightly at dangling in the other’s lap. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, but not in the hopes of getting out of the punishment, but for allowing himself to get worked up. 

.

“You are despicable,”

For a moment, Hadrian felt stand between his toes. For a moment - he stood, staring at the sea, feeling the water rush over his feet. He could hear the voice of his mother, he could smell her incense - cloying and rancid, nothing like the salt of the air. He could hear ask why he was not out on the boats. Why was he not singing? Why would he not beg his father the Ocean for it’s bounty. Would he not sing for her supper? Hadrian - child that he was shook his head - his voice aching and tired, his throat burning. ‘Despicable child.’ 

He didn’t let it show. He kept his expression passive, the mask of annoyance sewed firmly into the features of his face. He let the boy speak. He wanted to hear it, a part of him liked the rage. A part of him saw it for what it was and he knew this one would go somewhere. Maybe not to a good place but he’d make it out of the Undercroft one way or another. The mershark sent a silent prayer to the gods that it wouldn’t be in a body bag. He was tired of bodies. He was tired of death. As he was left to silence, he did not speak. 

And when the boy finally returned, when he was exposed and bent over his knee - it was like watching the tide go out. The rage - like all things - ebbed and flowed. The righteousness of the other’s ire broke against the insurmountable wall. He heard the apology and all the different definitions of the word that came with it. Hadrian didn’t move his hands - his face still shaped into the impassive mask. He looked up from the boy - to the two guards and jerked his chin towards them. “This is going to take a while. Clearly, several lessons need to be taught. You can both go - thank you for your help. Take the rest of the day off in fact. I’ll see this one back down myself when I’ve had my fill.” His voice was hard, it bore a cruelty borne of many centuries. 

The guards looked between themselves, looked to the Vila bent over the Enforcer’s knee and chuckled darkly between themselves, imagining the agonies. Both nodded and made their exit. Hadrian didn’t move until he heard the retreating footsteps. He didn’t move until all was silent. Reaching down - he gripped the boy by either arm and hefted him back into a standing position. With quick hands, he tugged JJ’s underwear back up to cover the boy and give him some modesty and then gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk. “Pull your pants up and sit down.” 

Once the boy had done so, Hadrian - now swiveled to the side in his chair - plucked a cigarette from the pack in his drawer and lit it. Inhaling, he eyed the Vila for a moment and his mouth quirked into a smirk. “I...am going to impart to you some wisdom. You are not going to talk back until I am finished. You are not going to argue either. If you don’t wish to follow what I say - by all means, do not and end up punished once more - I am only going to tell you this shit once.” Ashing his cigarette; he swiveled until he was staring directly at JJ, his gaze hard. 

“I...” His voice cracked, just slightly. “I am despicable. That was an apt word to use, you are correct. I am no good, horrible, low-down, vile sonofabitch. And so is everyone else here. It is wrong. You’re correct about that as well. What we’re doing is unforgivable. However - it being unforgivable does not and will not stop it from happening. You are a slave. This is not an opinion. It is not up for debate. You are a slave. Is that an unfortunate turn of events? Absolutely. Does that change anything? No. Is it unfair? One hundred fucking percent. Still changes nothing.” As Hadrian spoke, his voice got softer. He wasn’t yelling anymore and the rage had slipped from his features the moment the guards had left. 

“There is a system in place in the world that is bigger than you or I. You happened to end up on the shit side of that system and for that, I am sorry. I am not patronizing you, truly I do feel for you but there is nothing I can do. I cannot make you a free man. I cannot set you loose and let you run away into the hills. No one is coming to save you. I’m sorry if that stings but it is a truth we all must hear and learn from. I learned it millennia ago myself. I...” He swallowed, a bone-deep weariness aging his tone. “...I know you didn’t do anything wrong. Just like...so many others didn’t. But it is what it is. And there is hope. There is. It’s just a different shade that what you’re looking for. If you get claimed by a kind master, your life will be better than what it was when you were free. There are masters here that give their slaves more freedoms than they had before. Money, power, clothes, love, youth. Things people sell their soul for and it can be yours if you’re smart but you have to be smart. You have to be brave and when the time comes, you gotta shoot straight. You can’t...” Leaning back, he gestured to the office. 

Manny whined and whimpered as Hadrian took control fucking his throat. The whole sensation was uncomfortable for himself and his focus kept ping-ponging back and forth between the cock gagging him and the plug in his ass. His eyes were still wide as the new enforcer finally granted his front end some reprieve, the shifter coughing twice and clearing his throat. He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting the lingering flavor of Hadrian there just before he’d been given another order. Manny’s features twisted into something the other could read as disapproval with pursed lips in a slight pout at the sight of the gag. Aside from that, he didn’t verbally or physically fight his fate, opening his mouth again and biting down on the gag once it was settled between his teeth and firmly secure around his head. 

He lost sight of Hadrian once the taller man moved behind him and the loss of visual made the slave tense in anticipation. For what, he had no idea, however, he found out soon enough. Manny gasped and groaned into the gag as he was fucked by the toy, the pressure and stimulation further arousing him. Even against the cold, his face flushed with the heat of pleasure gradually melting that icy numbness away with the source of it gone. Not entirely though as the next intruder – Hadrian’s finger – still only produced a tingling feeling around the chilled area. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt the mershark’s thumb pressing a little deeper past the ring of muscle, hardly enough to be remotely satisfying and Manny’s pleas begging for the other to fuck him came out incoherent and muffled thanks to the gag.

.

There was something delicious in the noises Manny produced. The shamelessness of it or perhaps the desperation. Tracing the edge of his thumb against the boy’s hole - he clucked his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Good boy.” Chuckling, he stepped up further behind the Shifter - the tip of his cock just barely brushing against his entrance. 

Wordlessly, hand placed against the small of Manny’s back to keep him still - Hadrian slowly began to slide in. The iciness persisted inside, the plug having done it’s work well to chill the boy - numb him to some of the pleasure and the pain. Hadrian didn’t relent however and didn’t give way for a break. Inch after inch vanished inside - the Enforcer watching the sight with slightly parted lips at the interesting sensation.

As he bottomed out, the hand on Manny’s back moved to his hip and Hadrian gave one, experimental thrust. Part of him was interested in how this would feel for the other. His hips moved once more, giving the needy slut before him more of what he wanted. Another thrust and another followed and soon - Hadrian was building a good rhythm. Spitting once into his palm, he reached beneath the shifter’s thighs and wrapped his fist around the other’s length - stroking in time with each thrust. He’d make him cum from this at least once he’d decided by the position now that he was inside him wasn’t quite to his liking. 

Drumming his fingers against the edge of his desk, he sighed and lit himself a cigarette - waiting for the individual he’d sent for to arrive. Hadrian wasn’t a terribly social man, at least not on his own but that didn’t mean he didn’t keep up with everyone in the castle. He’d heard of Emmett before, hadn’t ever spoken to the man but a Nephalem was useful to have around - especially when it came to shit like this. 

He heard a knock at his door and called for the other to be let in. Standing, he moved to shake the other’s hand and gestured towards the ring. “Nice to meet’cha. I’m Hadrian, don’t think we’ve had the pleasure. Normally - I’d say let’s grab a beer or a fuck before we get into the nitty gritty but...” He dragged off his cigarette and moved back behind the desk, nodding towards the artefact. “So - what I know. This was found on a slave, newly brought in by one of our collectors. Enchanted somehow but I don’t know with what. We took it off the slave, everything was fine - the trouble started when the guard who took it off said slave was...compelled...to put it on. He did so, started hearing shit that wasn’t there and...things got...bad.” Hadrian snuffed out his cigarette, eyeing the damnable thing with no small amount of distrust. 

“Guard’s alive but recuperating. The ring seemed to try to make him hostile. It’s got some sort of shadow magic on it but I don’t know what, not my area of expertise. I asked for you specifically because isn’t it true you Nephalem can sorta...I dunno...shield yourselves from that kinda shit? I’d very appreciate it if you were able to tell me what the fuck we’re dealing with.” 

This wasn’t the first time Manny found himself such a position. Well, physically anyway. His master – or former one, he supposed – found all sorts of creative ways to up his game in the bedroom using restraints, costumes, and toys. A set of stocks like these the shifter was familiar with, not using his hands he’d learned to adapt. In only a couple years as Kris’ slave, this castle started losing the element of surprise on Manny when it came to many things the masters enjoyed. 

Course not everything was unsurprising. This was definitely his first time playing with ice and freezing cold shoved in his ass. Frankly, Manny had almost forgotten about it until Hadrian decided to give him a chilling reminder. “Mmf––” the shocked whine came out muffled around the mershark’s cock, the slave’s whole spine tensing and ass cheeks clenching around the plug. He visibly shivered underneath the enforcer’s gaze, sucking in a breath through his nose while he tried to ignore the cold wave passing through him combined with the heat of arousal from the stimulation. Motivated with the promise of a reward, the shifter did as told and swallowed as much of Hadrian’s cock as he possibly could until the tip of his nose brushed against the older man’s muscled abdomen. Manny held it there between hollowed cheeks, swallowing around the cock dipping into his throat until his eyes watered and he inevitably gagged around it. He swiftly jerked back less than an inch to a more comfortable position, glancing up at Hadrian apologetically as he resumed his previous pattern of bobbing, twisting, and sucking, occasionally diving back down in between breaths till the mershark’s cock slid into his throat. 

.

Oh, he liked him. Hadrian wasn’t an easy man to impress but the sheer determination was something to be admired if nothing else. His fingers tangled in the strands of Manny’s hair tightened their grip when the slave took him as far as he was able. The reactions he could illicit from simply twisting or turning the plug were delicious in all the right ways. Chuckling, he lowered one hand to cup around the slave’s throat - his hips giving small thrusts; grunts of approval passing his lips as he delved deeper despite the boy’s gags. 

When Manny had to relent, their gazes meeting - Hadrian gave him the smallest nod and withdrew entirely from him. A line of saliva glistening between the head of his cock and the boy’s lips but he kneeled down, looking Manny in the eye with a pleased smirk. “Open.” He commanded, holding up a ball-gag in one hand. “Just because I’m making you cum does not mean I wanna hear it...” His tone was teasing and a little bit insidious. Hadrian loved games when it came to making others reach release and he was definitively planning on making Manny very loud. Once fastened; he stood and strode around him - tracing one hand along the boy’s side, almost tickling in his touch.