Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Yes Master, My Master ❯ Part 9 ( Chapter 9 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Spider_Queen 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): / Hentai / Drama / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.20.2001 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.0K | Visits: 559 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): / Hentai / Drama / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.20.2001 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.0K | Visits: 559 | Status: Completed
Quicker than it had appeared, Gabriel's soft, wistful side shattered, leaving the cold hard demon that Quatre knew so well in it's wake. He rose smoothly to his feet, and looked down at Quatre with something nearing anger entering his expressive eyes. "But that doesn't matter." He nearly growled, making Quatre want to shrink reflexivly beneath the bed covers. "Come on, stand up. There are things to do today."
With difficulty, Quatre forced away the frown that threatened to break past his mask away, as he stood slowly. Had his sadistic master already found a new victim for Quatre? Or did Gabriel have something different in mind that the blond Arabian could not possibly guess?
Gabriel strode away from the large bed to one of the large tapestries that Quatre had yet to glimpse behind. The blond watched with some apprehension as Gabriel pulled out several things, and turned back to Quatre. As he started over, Sandrock's pilot could see that Gabriel now held what appeared to be leather garments. "Here," Gabriel said, as Quatre uneasily accepted the offered clothing. "Get dressed," ordered Gabriel as he passed Quatre to sit cross-legged on the bed. Quatre turned as the older man passed him, keeping his eyes on the hollow of Gabriel's throat the entire time. "Cassiel is visiting from Italy, and will be here later in the day."
"Cassiel?" Quatre asked, his voice sounding small to his own ears. His eyes slid down to the dark bundle of supple clothing in his hands, as though unsure what to do with it. He'd never thought to wear such stuff, but dare he oppose Gabriel, his Master? Trowa....no, he'd not oppose him. He slowly set the pile on the floor and drew out the pair of tight looking pants. Gabriel was watching him, expectance and impatience written faintly on his face, obviously waiting for Quatre to dress. Hesitantly, Quatre stepped into the tight pants and pulled them up.
Gabriel shifted as he watched his pet dress himself in the revealing clothing he'd provided. "Cassiel," he started once Quatre was dressing as directed. "Had the same Master as I did-he was much like an older brother." An older brother...an older brother sharing an abusive father-had this Cassiel been corrupted and turned sadist, as Gabriel had? Quatre frowned slightly and concentrated on buttoning the pants up. At least he'd have a break from torture, right? Perhaps Cassiel would be more humane, kinder...
"I haven't seen Cassiel in years," Gabriel was continuing, oblivious to Quatre's thoughts. "It should be an interesting meeting." Dark eyes focused on his pet and the eyes' owner stood, obviously looking Quatre over.
The young Arabian clenched his jaw tightly, feeling worse dressed in the tight, black pants then he did naked at this point. He felt much like a piece of dressed up prize or powered poodle, for sale, or display. He closed his blue eyes tightly and took a deep breath.
Fingers fumbled at his throat, and, startled, Quatre looked up into Gabriel's eyes. Gabriel smiled slightly-something like a smirk, but with a twinge of kindness in it, and held up the end of a leash he held. A leash attached to a collar. A collar fastened around Quatre's neck. Gabriel was claiming the Winner boy to be his...and Quatre was letting him!
With his usual, uncanny ability to read his captive's mind, the dark haired man leaned closer to Quatre, so close that the sandalwood oil Gabriel used clouded Quatre's nose and made his head spin slightly. He felt vaguely sick, but he swallowed hard and forced the feeling away. He had been through much worse in his time with this man-much worse than a leash and collar. He had killed, he had tortured-he could bear what Gabriel was now putting him through. He could bear it for Trowa.
"Be good while he is here, little one," Gabriel whispered, running a finger down Quatre's face to tap the leather collar he wore. "Cassiel is much stricter than I-you'll not want to anger him, my pet."
For a moment, Quatre stared at his master, with some fear. He'd always found Gabriel hard, nearing evil-his sadism; his cruelty had always made Quatre's heart ache. But now he would meet someone worse? Someone that Gabriel warned him not to anger, someone Gabriel seemed to respect, in an almost affectionate way, yet fear at the same time? Is this what Gabriel's "training" had entailed? More fear, more pain than even Quatre's own torturous experience.......
Quatre lowered his eyes, focusing on the soft velvet that carpeted the ground, his head downward so that he could feel the stiff collar cutting into the soft skin of his neck and under his chin: an unpleasant reminder of what, and who he now was.
He really wasn't Quatre Winner any longer-he could see no furture in which he was the Winner heir or piloting a Gundam. He would not be rescued-his hope had finally, truly died. He would either become what Gabriel meant to mold him into-someone who caused pain for others, though he'd not let himself enjoy it; or he'd die soon. Which was worse-to live in constant torture, or die and let someone else take his place? Gabriel seemed not like the type to give up after a few failures-he had said as much, hadn't he? Were Quatre to die, the lifetime of pain would only be passed on to some other innocent, and the kindhearted boy didn't feel that he could let that happen either...
Gabriel gave the leash a sharp tug. "Come now, little one. We're not going to greet Cassiel in here, and he ought be here soon."
"Yes Master." Quatre whispered, and followed the older man as he left the room.
Post note: Okay, a not on names here. Gabriel and Cassiel are both named what they are NOT because it rythmes (Goddess forbid) but because both names belong to angels. Gabriel was one of the archangels, and well known, while Cassiel is the angel of sorrow, amung other things. Don't you just LOVE irony?
With difficulty, Quatre forced away the frown that threatened to break past his mask away, as he stood slowly. Had his sadistic master already found a new victim for Quatre? Or did Gabriel have something different in mind that the blond Arabian could not possibly guess?
Gabriel strode away from the large bed to one of the large tapestries that Quatre had yet to glimpse behind. The blond watched with some apprehension as Gabriel pulled out several things, and turned back to Quatre. As he started over, Sandrock's pilot could see that Gabriel now held what appeared to be leather garments. "Here," Gabriel said, as Quatre uneasily accepted the offered clothing. "Get dressed," ordered Gabriel as he passed Quatre to sit cross-legged on the bed. Quatre turned as the older man passed him, keeping his eyes on the hollow of Gabriel's throat the entire time. "Cassiel is visiting from Italy, and will be here later in the day."
"Cassiel?" Quatre asked, his voice sounding small to his own ears. His eyes slid down to the dark bundle of supple clothing in his hands, as though unsure what to do with it. He'd never thought to wear such stuff, but dare he oppose Gabriel, his Master? Trowa....no, he'd not oppose him. He slowly set the pile on the floor and drew out the pair of tight looking pants. Gabriel was watching him, expectance and impatience written faintly on his face, obviously waiting for Quatre to dress. Hesitantly, Quatre stepped into the tight pants and pulled them up.
Gabriel shifted as he watched his pet dress himself in the revealing clothing he'd provided. "Cassiel," he started once Quatre was dressing as directed. "Had the same Master as I did-he was much like an older brother." An older brother...an older brother sharing an abusive father-had this Cassiel been corrupted and turned sadist, as Gabriel had? Quatre frowned slightly and concentrated on buttoning the pants up. At least he'd have a break from torture, right? Perhaps Cassiel would be more humane, kinder...
"I haven't seen Cassiel in years," Gabriel was continuing, oblivious to Quatre's thoughts. "It should be an interesting meeting." Dark eyes focused on his pet and the eyes' owner stood, obviously looking Quatre over.
The young Arabian clenched his jaw tightly, feeling worse dressed in the tight, black pants then he did naked at this point. He felt much like a piece of dressed up prize or powered poodle, for sale, or display. He closed his blue eyes tightly and took a deep breath.
Fingers fumbled at his throat, and, startled, Quatre looked up into Gabriel's eyes. Gabriel smiled slightly-something like a smirk, but with a twinge of kindness in it, and held up the end of a leash he held. A leash attached to a collar. A collar fastened around Quatre's neck. Gabriel was claiming the Winner boy to be his...and Quatre was letting him!
With his usual, uncanny ability to read his captive's mind, the dark haired man leaned closer to Quatre, so close that the sandalwood oil Gabriel used clouded Quatre's nose and made his head spin slightly. He felt vaguely sick, but he swallowed hard and forced the feeling away. He had been through much worse in his time with this man-much worse than a leash and collar. He had killed, he had tortured-he could bear what Gabriel was now putting him through. He could bear it for Trowa.
"Be good while he is here, little one," Gabriel whispered, running a finger down Quatre's face to tap the leather collar he wore. "Cassiel is much stricter than I-you'll not want to anger him, my pet."
For a moment, Quatre stared at his master, with some fear. He'd always found Gabriel hard, nearing evil-his sadism; his cruelty had always made Quatre's heart ache. But now he would meet someone worse? Someone that Gabriel warned him not to anger, someone Gabriel seemed to respect, in an almost affectionate way, yet fear at the same time? Is this what Gabriel's "training" had entailed? More fear, more pain than even Quatre's own torturous experience.......
Quatre lowered his eyes, focusing on the soft velvet that carpeted the ground, his head downward so that he could feel the stiff collar cutting into the soft skin of his neck and under his chin: an unpleasant reminder of what, and who he now was.
He really wasn't Quatre Winner any longer-he could see no furture in which he was the Winner heir or piloting a Gundam. He would not be rescued-his hope had finally, truly died. He would either become what Gabriel meant to mold him into-someone who caused pain for others, though he'd not let himself enjoy it; or he'd die soon. Which was worse-to live in constant torture, or die and let someone else take his place? Gabriel seemed not like the type to give up after a few failures-he had said as much, hadn't he? Were Quatre to die, the lifetime of pain would only be passed on to some other innocent, and the kindhearted boy didn't feel that he could let that happen either...
Gabriel gave the leash a sharp tug. "Come now, little one. We're not going to greet Cassiel in here, and he ought be here soon."
"Yes Master." Quatre whispered, and followed the older man as he left the room.
Post note: Okay, a not on names here. Gabriel and Cassiel are both named what they are NOT because it rythmes (Goddess forbid) but because both names belong to angels. Gabriel was one of the archangels, and well known, while Cassiel is the angel of sorrow, amung other things. Don't you just LOVE irony?