Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Sugar & Whips ❯ Chapter 3

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Sugar and Whips

Part 3

Treize's fingertips tapped against his desk as he flipped once again through the thin folder with Zechs' contract and personal information. Trowa could tell that the master's patience was wearing thin. He was just about to offer to go and check what was taking Quatre so long, when the phone on the desk rung.

The duke picked up at once. “Yes.”

“We are ready now, Sir. Do you prefer to come downstairs to see him, or would you like me to bring him up to your study?”

“Bring him upstairs.”

“As you wish, Sir.”

Treize hung up the phone. He closed the folder and rose from his high backed leather chair. His face didn't betray what he was thinking as he walked to the window and stared into the night sky. But Trowa knew the man for long enough to read even the smallest gestures and hints. And right now he could read interest and anticipation behind that calm façade; something he hadn't seen in quite a while.

###

Quatre slipped his phone back into his pocket and turned toward Zechs. The tall, young man was still sitting on the bed.

“Are you ready?”

“Would it make any difference if I'd say `no'?” the platinum-blond asked impassively.

Quatre shrugged. “Not really.”

“I guess, then I'm as ready as I'll ever be.” As Zechs rose he felt instantly overcome by a wave of dizziness and nausea. He closed his eyes and waited for the vertigo to dissipate.

“What's wrong?”

“I feel lightheaded.”

“You probably still have some of those drugs in your blood. Take a few deep breaths.” The younger man suggested. “You will feel better soon. Walking should actually help.”

“Can't you at least unshackle my hands? It's not like I would try to run away…in this outfit.”

“Out of question,” Quatre shook his head resolutely. “But don't worry. I'll be right next to you. I don't let you fall onto your nose.”

“I guess I'll have no choice but to trust you.”

“That's right. Trust, you will learn, is very important around here. Can we go?”

Zechs nodded.

“Maybe I should give you a few tips and pointers before throwing you into the lion's den.” Quatre said as he led the young man upstairs. “Most people would probably tell you that Duke Khushrenada is a very strict, demanding and unforgiving master. Which is true. But on the other hand, he is also very generous and caring. I guess it all depends on the circumstances.”

“Duke?” Zechs echoed.

“Yes, he comes from a long line of aristocrats. He inherited the title and his fortune after his parent's death.”

“So, what happened? Too much money and nothing left to buy; so he started to `invest' in people?”

Quatre gave the other man a sharp look. “You might want to change that attitude before you meet him. I don't think Master Treize will appreciate your sarcasm. Remember, you only have one chance to make a good first impression. If I was you I'd be on my best behavior. You should comply if he gives you any orders and don't speak unless you are spoken too. Understood?”

Zechs nodded, even though he wasn't quite sure why it was necessary for him to make a good first impression.

“Alright, here we are,” Quatre announced as they stopped outside a room on the second floor of the mansion. The young man knocked at the heavy oak door. “Sir, its Quatre. May we come in?”

“Yes, please enter,” a deep, smooth voice answered.

Zechs swallowed. He felt apprehension and nervousness mixed with just the slightest touch of curiosity as he stepped across the threshold. There were two people in the room; a young brunet about 18 or 19 years old was standing by the door, while the second man, somewhat taller and with ginger-colored hair, stood by the window. He turned as to face them as they entered the study.

Zechs was surprised to say the least. After what he had been told he had formed a picture in his mind of the man Quatre called `Master Treize'. He had imagines someone a lot older, short, overweight and with a receding hairline, in short an all-around rather unattractive person. He most certainly did not expect somebody only a few years older than himself.

###

“I'm sorry for making you wait, Sir. The drugs Ventuno gave him took a while to wear off.” Quatre apologized.

Treize just nodded vaguely, hardly taking notice of him, as his attention was immediately drawn to the slender, young man at his side.

The duke was barely able to suppress a gasp. The blond was incredibly handsome… no beautiful. He was probably in his mid-twenties, with cream colored skin and fine, pale-blond hair that reached all the way to his lower back. His face was handsome, with high cheekbones, exquisitely formed lips, and his eyes a brilliant ice-blue. He was without a doubt one of the most magnificent creatures Treize had ever laid eyes upon.

“How is he holding up to your expectations, Master?” Trowa wanted to know.

“I'm impressed,” Treize admitted, his eyes never leaving the blond's face. “You truly didn't exaggerate when you told me that he was stunning.”

The duke stepped closer. When he raised his hand to brush away a few strands of silvery hair that obscured Zechs face, the blond jerked his head away and glared at him. Treize gave a somewhat amused sound.

You've still got spirit. Good, I like that. That will make it all the more interesting.

He let his gaze wander over the young man's body. Zechs' wrists were shackled together behind his back and connected to his collar with a short chain.

“Remove his handcuffs?” Treize ordered. “I have the feeling he is intelligent enough not to try anything foolish.”

“As you wish,” Quatre nodded. He unlocked the chain and removed first it and then the wide metal cuffs around Zechs' wrist. “Anything else, Sir?”

“No, that's it. The two of you can leave now. I'll call you when he is ready to be taken back downstairs.”

With another nod of acknowledgement both Towa and Quatre left the room and Treize turned his attention back to his newest `possession'.

“Turn around,” he demanded.

The young man complied, allowing the duke to take a good look at him from all sites.

“Excellent,” Treize commended. It wasn't clear if he was praising Zechs' compliance, or his physique. “Let me see your teeth.”

What am I, a horse? Zechs hesitated but finally shrugged and opened his mouth.

Treize nodded, satisfied with his inspection, and then took a couple of steps back. “Now, take of your pants, I wasn't to see the rest of your body.”

Zech's eyes widened. He has got to be kidding.

The blond didn't move and Treize's brows narrowed slightly in irritation. “I realize that this is very new to you, so let me explain you how things work around here. I give orders and you follow them. Otherwise there will be consequences. And believe me, you won't like them. Did I make myself clear?”

Zechs swallowed.

“I've ask you a question. Did you understand what I just told you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“One more thing. I don't like to repeat myself. So don't try my patience.” The duke delivered those words calmly and without the slightest trace of anger or malice in his voice. But the unspoken threat in his eyes sent a shiver down Zechs' spine.

“Now, take of those pants, or would you rather have me call somebody to do it for you?”

“No, Sir.” The young man pressed through his teeth as he slowly begun to undress. He didn't like it, but he was no fool. There was no way that he could go against this man right now. So for the time being, he decided, it was probably better to take Quatre's advice and `behave'.

Propped against the large mahogany desk, the duke watched Zechs fumble with the leather lacing that held his pants together.

“Would you like me to help you?”

“I can do it myself,” the blond growled. Moments later the leather pants dropped to the floor and he was left wearing only his chest harness.

“Turn around, slowly.” Treize demanded. With a soft smile on his lips he beheld the young man's magnificent body. He admired every inch of soft, flawless skin, the lean back ending in the firm globes of two delicious looking buttocks and those long, muscular legs. He let his eyes roam over a well-built chest with two small, rose-colored nipples, and a perfectly chiseled abdomen. His gaze dropped to between Zechs, thighs and lingered for several moments on the large cock and heavy balls nestled within a patch of soft, blond curls. When he looked up the duke noticed the shade of crimson staining the blond's cheeks.
“You have no reason to be ashamed,” he spoke softly. “Not with a body like this.”

Pushing away from the desk Treize stepped toward the young man, raised his hand and softly traced his thumb over Zechs' full lips, and then brushed his knuckles over his `pet's' soft cheek.

Zechs blinked; a mixture of confusion and amazement in his eyes.

Treize's hand moved deeper, down the young man's neck, two fingers tracing Zechs' collarbone. They roamed over his chest, barely brushing the soft skin, until they found one of the young man's pink nipples. One finger circled the little nub. He could feel a shiver running through Zechs' body.

How delightfully sensitive! The duke smiled softly as he watched the little rosy bud perk up and harden under his fingertips. And so responsive too.

He let his finger slowly wander down the blond's torso, drawing a little circle around his navel that elicited another shiver from the young man. His hand moved deeper, but when it reached the pale-blond curls just above the slave's manhood Zechs jerked away.

“Don't!” he hissed, eyes wide in shock.

“Excuse me?” The duke raised one eyebrow in a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“Don't…touch me!”

 

Treize smiled softly. “I think you really don't understand your situation. But that's alright. You seem fairly intelligent. I'm sure you will learn quickly.” The duke's eyes locked with his Zechs' as he continued, his voice gentle but authoritative like he was talking to a stubborn child. “When you signed that contract you, you put yourself up as collateral for the loan you received. In other words…Your body belongs to me now. And until you have worked off every penny I spend on you, I can do with it whatever I desire. I can touch you if I wish and I can punish you if I consider it necessary. And you can do absolutely nothing about it. You did read the contract before signing, did you not?”

“I was desperate. I needed the money.”

“That doesn't exactly answer my question. But…” Treize strolled back to his desk. He settled into the into the leather chair, draped one leg over the other and crossed his arm in front of his chest. “It does bring up another one. What did you need the money for?”

“Quite frankly,” Zechs glared at him. “I don't think that's any of your business.”

“But it is,” The duke told him softly. “I invested a lot of money in you. Of course I want to know if you have some kind of drug… or gambling addiction.”

“I assure you, it's nothing of that sort. I don't drink, I don't smoke and I don't do drugs. I don't gamble either, aside from an occasional game of poker or pool with friends.”

“Fine,” Treize shrugged. “For now I'll be satisfied with that answer. It's getting late. We should call it a night. Get dressed. I'll call somebody to take you back to your room.”

###

“Try to relax and get some sleep.” Quatre had suggested when they had brought him back to his room in the basement. But that was easier said than done. Zechs mind was still reeling and he wasn't sure if the queasy feeling in his stomach was still a result of the drugs he had been given, or caused by anxiety.

He finally decided that a hot shower might help him to relax, and walked into the bath. The room wasn't very large, but held everything he needed - a small shower with a shallow porcelain basin, a toilet and a sink built into cherry-wood cabinets. A shelf filled with bottles of shampoo, soap, lotions and even after-shave hung in the corner by the shower, a set of clean crimson-red towels lay near the sink and there was even a bathrobe for him in the same warm color. Next to the sink lay an electric shaver. The young man grimaced.

Electric! Doesn't he know those things can be so irritating on your skin? I can't say that I blame them though, for not trusting me to use blades. Zechs thought sardonically. Getting blood out of those cream-colored carpets has to be a bitch, especially the amount of blood you would end up with when you slash someone's throat.

As he turned to lock the door he realized that it didn't have a lock. Zechs gave an annoyed snort. I suppose privacy is one of those things I'm not entitled to anymore.

The young man turned on the water, stripped and stepped into the shower. He closed his eyes and let the hot water run over his head and back for a long time. The massaging effects of the powerful stream relaxed his muscles but they couldn't wash away the feeling of uneasiness.

After a while the water was starting to cool off. Zechs sighed and opened his eyes. He reached for a bottle of shampoo and opened it. It smelled like roses, a little too sweet and too strong for his taste. He picked a different bottle. Sandalwood; that was more like it. Zechs washed and rinsed his hair, leathered his body twice but somehow he still didn't feel thoroughly clean. He stepped out of the shower, dripping wet. Water pearled off his cream-colored skin, collecting in small puddles around his feet. He reached for a towel and started to dry off his hair. In one of the drawers under the sink he found a hairbrush. Still wearing nothing but his birthday suit the young man committed himself to brushing out any and all tangles from his long, pale-blond mane.

He had found that it was much easier to deal with them while his hair still was damp. Hair as long as his could be difficult to deal with and very time consuming. More than once he had considered cutting it, but somehow Relena had always managed to convince him otherwise. His sister had loved his long hair ever since she was a little girl. When they were younger she used to sit and comb his hair, while he was reading stories to her. Zechs could not help but smile at that memory.

Relena! That's right. I promised our parents the day we put them into the ground that I would take care of her, always. She still needs me. So I can't just give up. Somehow I'll have to find a way out of this.

He continued to run the brush his long stands of silver. By the time he was finished Zechs felt a little more relaxed and his spirit had risen slightly. He picked up the bathrobe and slipped into it before he walked back into the bedroom.

###

“What took you so long?” Quatre was already in bed when Trowa entered the room. The blond stifled a yawn and gazed at the clock on the nightstand.

“Sorry, I had to finish up tomorrow's client schedule for the club. We got lots of reservations. You know he wants to have it on his desk first thing in the morning.”

Yes he knew. Master Treize was very particular about that kind of stuff. Quatre yawned again.

“Silly, Cat,” his lover reprimanded gently. “Why didn't you go to sleep? You didn't have to wait for me.”

“I can't sleep without you.”

“Spoiled, little brat,” Trowa laughed as he grabbed a pair of boxers from the dresser and walked into the adjacent bathroom, leaving the door open behind him.

Quatre could hear the water running. He rolled onto his back. With his hands interlaced behind his back he stared at the ceiling. “So, what do you think about him?”

“The new one, Zechs you mean?” his lover's voice came from the bathroom. “I think he will make a wonderful pet when the master is through with him.”

“Hmmm…”

“You don't think so?” Trowa appeared in the bathroom door, toothbrush in hand, frowning.

“I think he is hiding something. I'm not sure what it is, but there is definitely something. He mentioned something about not being able to stay here, because he has something to take care off.”

“Take care of what?” The brunet went back into the bathroom.

“I don't know. He didn't say...”

There was a long moment of silence until Trowa walked into the bedroom again.

“You're worrying to much, Cat.” he said as he climbed into bed, stretching out next to his lover.

“You think so?” Quatre turned to face him.

“Yes, I do.” Trowa confirmed, his fingers playing with the hair on Quatre's forehead. “Just let the Master deal with him. It's none of our concern.”

“Trowa?”

“Yes?!”

“What would you do…if Treize would let you out of your contract? Would you leave?”

“What a silly question is that?” he whispered, before dipping his head, capturing the young man's mouth in a tender yet passionate kiss. “Of course not.”

“What if I wasn't here?” Quatre traced his lover's full lips with the tip of one slender finger.

“Are you thinking of leaving me?” Trowa asked as playfully nipped at him.

“Never!” A delightful shiver ran down Quatre's spine as the brunet softly suckled at his finger. His other hand wandered down Trowa's chest and abdomen. He gently cupped his lover's manhood through the fabric of his boxers before his fingers slipped beneath the waistband.

Trowa took a sharp breath. “Why did I even bother putting those on?”

“Good question.” Quatre grinned. “You should have known better.”

“I thought you were tired.”

“Not that tired.” Quatre's blond head disappeared beneath the covers. He tugged at his lover's boxers, and the young man raised his hips, allowing him to pull them down.

A gasp escaped Trowa's lips when something wet and warm enveloped his manhood. “Cat, oh god…” he whispered.

Quatre took him deeper into his mouth. He let his tongue run along the throbbing shaft and circle the mushroom-shaped tip, while his fingertips gently massaged the heavy, velvety ball sacs.

Trowa squirmed. His fingers dug into the bed sheets beneath him as he arched his back. His heartbeat raced and his breathing turned to panting. Garbled words of sweet nothing pooled from his lips as he his lover brought him closer and closer to the edge with every lick. One of his hands found his way beneath the covers. Long fingers buried themselves in soft, golden-blond hair.

“Cat…I'm going to…”

A hoarse cry escaped him as he came; spilling his seed into his lover's eagerly waiting mouth. Trowa collapsed breathlessly. He wrapped his arms around Quatre, pulling him close. For a long time he just lay there, eyes closed, basking in the aftershock of his orgasm. When he finally opened his eyes he looked directly into Quatre's blue orbs. The blond was smiling softly.

As Trowa leaned forward to capture his lover's mouth in a tender kiss he could taste himself on those passion swollen lips. His cupped the back of Quatre's head with one hand. His tongue slipped between willingly opening lips.

Quatre closed his eyes and moaned as his own tongue sparred with the intruder. Both men were panting breathlessly when they finally broke their kiss

With an impish smirk Trowa suddenly rolled over and flipped his lover onto the back, pinning him down with his superior weight. “My turn,” he announced huskily.

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T.B.C.

 Author's Note: Some parts of this chapter might sound familiar to people who read “Chained Angels”. Since I abandoned that fic, I'm `recycling parts of it, and use them in this story where they fit in.