Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction ❯ The Price of the Reckless ❯ A Fate Decided ( Chapter 1 )

„Begin.”

 

 

The deep voice rang out through the room, calm and collected, yet with an undertone that was expecting and forcing obedience on anyone and anything. Quite frankly, it could turn very gentle at times, but the slender brunette standing there fidgeting on the expensive carpet didn't get to hear it too often like that. His Master was still mad at him, it seemed.

 

 

Round, ocean blue eyes were turned towards the crimson carpet beneath his bare feet, white teeth with the slightest hint of a childhood overbite worrying a plush lower lip in nervousness, hands wringing in front of him. The thin body was clad in the most his Master would allow him, shorts of a thin black wool, ending just beneath the rounding of his behind, in the crease where rump met thigh, and a plain white shirt that ended several painful inches above the shorts' hem. It took all the boy's will to not tug at the shirt all the time. Sometimes Master allowed him to wear more, when he was going to show him off, but didn't want the possible straying eyes of his guests developing too much desire and jealousy. He was his Master's. Utterly and completely.

 

 

“Pet…”

 

“Master.”, came the mumbled voice, sweet in its youth still, and slender fingers began clumsily fumbling with the string that held his shorts to open them, then abandoned them in favor of pulling his shirt up. Slowly, hesitantly. No matter how many times he had to do this, it always frightened him. Azure eyes occupied themselves with looking around the room to take the boy's mind to other things besides stripping. Red was what he saw. Red. Red was the Master's favorite color, it seemed, as long as it was dark. The carpet he stood on, graciously, was a dark crimson color, threaded with delicate gold. The walls had a warm beige tone with the curvy, elegantly flowing lines of ancient scripture his Master liked so much … no matter what they meant, if they looked pretty, Master liked them. They looked like red plants, lianas ranking intricate patterns over the otherwise plain walls. The armchair his Master sat on, his long legs crossed at the knee idly, was of bordeaux velvet, the bed taking up the other side of the spacey room decked in satin, crimson sheets, a few black pillows between lots of red and orange ones littered the head of it. He knew the sheets' color by heart, even if a comforter of the same color scheme as the walls covered them. The fire that crackled merrily in the fireplace, it was almost winter after all, fitted nicely into the bedroom. The youth noticed that the flames had the color of his Master's eyes .. orange, but warm and smooth looking, not sharp and cold. Never had he seen his Master's eyes soften like that…

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

The Master of Hollow Bastion was pretty damn pleased with himself. It was a nice evening, to be enjoyed after the hard day work. He had lost his shirt some time ago already, the room was nicely warm by now, and the fumbling and shifting his pet did was enough to make anyone feel warm. A smirk settled over nude lips as the man inclined his head to rest against his knuckles, elbow proper on the armrest of his chair. The fire and it's shadows and light cast pretty golden effects on unruly brunette hair, and his own bronzed skin. Yes, Ansem was pleased.

 

 

After all, he did it, didn't he? He commanded over an army of Heartless, he ruled over all known worlds … vaguely he wondered if Aladdin had slit his own throat by now, if the Queen of Hearts still waited to end her trial? If Peter Pan was able to fly without happy thoughts, without his Wendy? Of course, the girl had nothing to do with anything. He had taken her only because he could. The last time he had seen the gentle brunette, her horror-wide eyes begged him not to do that as he closed the heavy iron door behind her, to sleep with the princesses. Without them, protagonists of all kinds weren't able to continue, stories that would have been told were never to be finished now. It felt good to have such power.

 

 

And of course … he had this. His Hollow Bastion, with all its wonders and secrets, it had been so cold without him … Ansem didn't like the cold. He had seen to it that the rooms he used to live in were made up to his liking. And this. The last battle had been fought, and won. For him, at least. The little one in front of him had given too easily into determination and enthusiasm, and he had lost.

 

 

“Sora, don't dream with your eyes open.”, he commanded, lifting a hand to brush his silver hair back. He chuckled as the boy jumped and nodded hastily, shirt pulled over the mob of insufferable spikes and pulled away, leaving the slender body almost bare in front of him. Ansem shifted, and relocated the growing arousal in his black pants. This was his.

 

 

His pretty, unwilling pet.

 

 

A good thing that the crown pendant that summoned the key blade was safely around his neck instead of the boy's. Now, all that decorated Sora's thin neck was a collar of black velvet, with his own symbol at the throat. A throat that already stopped showing the marks he had left there the last time he had summoned his pet.

 

 

Ansem was confident that both Sora and the boy he had once possessed, Riku, had already forgotten about their own princess charge. She was not to awake anymore, anyway. What a waste of time and body. Ansem did not like princesses, either.

 

 

“Come here, little one.”

 

For once, he let his voice soften. He was not mad at the youth anymore; he never had been, in fact. It wasn't Sora's fault that he had been send to kill him. It was the rodent's fault, and the rodent had been taken care of. It was only a matter of time until `King' Mickey shed the last bit of sanity he possessed in his dark, damp cell and gave him the information of where his own kingdom was. Power was addictive, and Ansem craved more of it.

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

Sora gave a soft sigh as he had followed the order his Master had given him and whined quietly as the man's free hand lifted and curled, beckoning him closer. He had to obey. He had to. He had pondered before, during the long hours in which he was allowed to wander the castle, hang out in the spacey library with an unresponsive Riku who never seemed to even see him as if he was a mere ghost of the past, that this wasn't so bad…his Master didn't have many orders for him, he was fed, basically pampered, but also, he could not forget the past. What had it been again? Memory seemed to fade at this place. He couldn't remember the girl's face or name anymore that he had come to save. Vaguely, he remembered two rather odd creatures, a talking duck…no, that was silly, there were no things as talking ducks.

 

 

He had also pondered that his Master was not too cruel, it could be worse. Sometimes he heard screams and loud groans of pain echoing through the castle, roars of anger and sadness, and then he wondered if there were other people here, besides him and Master, and Riku and the young woman that tended to the library. And besides the Heartless, of course. They didn't frighten him anymore.

 

 

“Sora.”

 

 

The brunette went forwards and let himself sink onto the man's lap, knees on either side of the strong thighs beneath him, nestled between muscle and chair tightly. For a long time, his Master did nothing, only looked at him, and Sora did not dare look back. He didn't dare to meet the fiery-cold gaze that he could feel trailing over his body.

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

Ansem decidedly loved it when Sora obeyed. It was nice, very much so. Watching the young body approach him, slightly crafted through weeks of adventuring to get here, he felt his mouth go slightly dry for a moment. The small weight on his lap ripped him out of his thoughts, and for the moment he was content with watching the slight muscles tense and relax again beneath the satin skin. Finally, the surprisingly dry palm of his right hand settled on the youth's back, which tensed up immediately. Soft…very soft. His palm slid up and his fingertips, slightly calloused, trailed a fine line from the top of the youth's spine, which he had given access to by the bowing of his head, over the back of one rather narrow shoulder, smirking at the delightful shiver that ran through the small body, the soft gasp that escaped plush lips.

 

 

“What a pretty little thing…”

 

 

A finger came to rest beneath the boy's chin to tilt his face up, eyes wide beneath the chocolate bangs, a blush painting his cheeks cutely. All Sora did was stare up at him, stunned like a bunny caught in the hypnotic gaze of a snake. Such pretty lips…soft, too, and pliant, Ansem knew. He let his thumb pass over them, and they parted obediently. Azure eyes fell shut as the digit passed between them and entered the steamy, wet cave that they protected. He loved the way the boy moaned. The soft lips closed around his thumb and talented little tongue brushed over the dry skin, again and again, in soft suckles and strokes until his thumb was positively drenched, only then the tapped the underside of the youth's chin to make him open his mouth. A thin thread of saliva connected the tip of Sora's tongue with his finger as the pink muscle followed the digit for a moment to rest just behind full lips. How alluring…

 

 

Ansem was amused and pleased at the fact the boy learned so quickly. As the thread of moisture separated, his other hand brushed it from the brunette's chin tenderly and while Sora was still distracted, the now free hand snuck down to fondle a perky nipple between one dry and one wet finger. The slender body arched into the hand with another soft moan.

 

“Yes, that's nice, isn't it, my sweet?” He got a small mewl of neither affirmation nor denial as his fingers squeezed the now wet, hard nub, along with a buck of narrow hips. The man took a moment to look the youth over. He knew Sora loved having his nipples fondled, so he kept up with it lazily to distract him. Delicious how his body writhed already, caught in the spell Ansem carefully wove around the young mind, how it arched into the fondling hand, eyes tightly closed and lips parted to let mewls and moans escape, the rosy blush painting his face. It stirred Ansem's arousal even more. Small hands were gripping his thighs, just in front of the boy's own, and he redirected them back to prop against his knees. The slender body was on nice display now.

 

 

“I decided to be rather nice to you this evening, lovely.”

 

 

Dark lashes fluttered at his words as if the boy tried to comprehend what his Master had just said, and Ansem brought him back down with a sharp pinch to the bud, to which Sora cried out and ripped his eyes wide open.

 

 

“Aw…I'm sorry…”, the man purred, but the wicked smirk didn't waver as he leaned forwards, one hand resting in the small of Sora's back and placed his lips against the trembling shoulder, skimming along the most sensitive parts of it sensually, delighting in the soft purrs reaching his ears. Sora threw his head back with a cry as the mouth suddenly reached the formerly unattended nipple, which quickly hardened and sensitized as his Master kept kissing and licking and nibbling it. Some sharp bites were delivered to it as well, which Ansem loved … he loved sinking his teeth in parts of unprotected flesh, not hard enough to bruise mostly, make the boy cry and moan and quiver for him. It made him want to bite harder, sink his teeth further, draw blood and feel it run down his chin, but it was the power to be able to do so, not the act, that made him lust after the youth with his soft skin and pliant flesh. How easy it was to play Sora.

 

 

Ansem brought his hands against the boy's waist again, just above his hips, to feel the small body tremble for a moment. “You've been a bad boy lately … didn't I tell you to not speak with the personnel?”

 

 

“You did…Master.”

 

 

“And why did you do it?”

 

 

“I was bored…ow!”

 

 

The white-haired man had sunk his teeth into the youth's bare shoulder, indents of rows of teeth now slowly fading on the satiny skin. “Bored, hm? I'll give you something to remember, so you won't be bored anymore.”

 

 

No matter what Sora said, it was twisted either for or against him, depending on Ansem's mood. The round blue eyes widened some more as he was flipped over to have his back rest against his Master's bare chest, large hands sliding the shorts off his hips, and along his thin legs, which he had to lift and bend his knees in midair for Ansem to get them off. They were thrown to join the shirt, somewhere in the room, and the large palms grabbed the undersides of Sora's knees, holding his legs up and apart while his pert rear slid to rest upon his Master's knees. With a squeak, Sora grabbed onto the armrests to steady himself.

 

 

“Leave them like that.”, came the low order against the shell of his ear, the warm breath washing over it made him shiver and the brunette complied, straining his muscles to leave his legs spread and up, even as Master's palms slid up his legs … or was it down? Right now, it was, Sora figured. Master stroked downwards, torturously slow towards his unprotected groin. Ansem gripped him where the leg of his shorts had sat a moment ago, stroking along the now invisible crease and around, making him mewl as fingertips danced and stroked mercilessly where thigh met body, all around, close enough to touch him where it throbbed already, despite his will to make it go away. Sora did not want to be aroused by this, he didn't want his Master's spell upon him that made him a willing pet, and quite the little whore if provoked right. And Master knew just how to do that. Through the pleasurable daze he felt himself griping his knees to hold his legs open, felt his chest and throat vibrate with the mewls he uttered as the delightfully skilled fingertips brushed his scrotum, stroked the underside of his young balls that had yet to grow hair to protect them from the scintillating experience of fingertips against vulnerable skin. The feathery touches traveled down, along the strip of firm flesh, pressed just the right spot in passing before delving into the now wide open cleft to stroke the tight entrance to Ansem's very personal heaven.

 

 

“You like that, little one … do you not?”

 

 

“Please, Master…”

 

“While you sound utterly delicious begging like that, I still think you need to be punished.”

 

 

 

The boy squeaked delightfully in surprise as he was lifted and flipped again, finding himself face to face with the carpet. His waist was held tight between the man's knees, his own knees resting next to his Master's thighs on the chair, shins propped against a strong chest and shoulders, and he grabbed at the carpet to keep himself from sliding further with a protesting mewl.

 

 

In that position, Ansem had all the access he needed. First he rested his palms on the pretty little cheeks, finding it delightful how each fitted perfectly into his large palms and squeezed them to draw a whine from the boy. His knees made sure that the youths groin was nowhere where it could rub against anything, the slender arousal swaying in free air with no chance of release. His fingers were leisurely kneading and massaging the soft yet firm flesh and he waited until he heard his pet moan in delight before raising one hand and bringing it down with force on the bubbly cheek it had just left. Ansem loved it when the boy squeaked like that.

 

 

“A bad boy, that's what you were.”

 

Smack

 

“I hope you learn from your mistakes this time.”

 

Smack

 

Moan…

 

“Hmmm. You like that, don't you?”

 

Smack

 

“What a dirty little thing you are.”

 

SMACK

 

All the while, the other hand had held the second buttock in a jealous grip and the smacking one only stopped when one side of the boy's ass was a flaming red. Red, his favorite color.

 

“Why, that looks odd…the other has to match, don't you think?”

 

Ansem grinned at the soft keen that answered him. The boy's hips were writhing, into the hand that still gripped him, and into the other as well, which began gently rubbing the abused globe, every now and then pinching it. Then the flaming one was held while the other was colored roughly and Ansem grinned proudly as he, afterwards, looked over his master piece.

 

 

The bubbly globes were covered in a deep blush, like the ones of the youth's face used to do so often. In the position he was in, the crease between them was stretched open just enough to see the quivering pucker between them. “Hm … you were a good boy just now. You earned a reward.” His hands grasped the small hipbones to draw the boy up, who squeaked again as he had now to stretch his arms far down to support himself with only his fingertips.

 

 

 

Sora whined again at the uncomfortable position. “Master…?” But his Master did not answer him, instead he felt soft breath between his hot cheeks. He still didn't know why the punishment had excited him like that, but his pre cum was dribbling steadily and equally steady made a mess on the chair and Master's knees. He wasn't allowed to touch himself when Master played with him, unless Master especially told him so. He couldn't have, either, or he would have fallen. The strain in his arms grew as something soft and wet loitered around the puckered hole, making him keen again…how cruel Master was…

 

 

“O-oh…”

 

“Mmmh…”

 

 

A soft chuckle behind him, Master's large, spanking-warmed hands kept his cheeks wide apart so he could comfortably torture the boy, only having to bow his head a little. Sora slowly pulled one hand up and propped it on Master's knee, then one of those warm hands pushed his upper body down so his chin rested on the other knee, but only barely. Long, slow strokes of a broad tongue, starting from the base of his balls upwards, through the ready-made path, tickling and flicking at the clenched ring of muscle, then further up to place a nip at his tailbone. And again. And yet again. Often enough to have Sora pant and moan and beg for his Master to do it faster, and harder, and touch him finally, but all Ansem did was teasing the youth into a delightful frenzy. The tanned man grinned as he let his teeth sink into one abused cheek first, then further down into the back of one firm thigh. Each bite made the boy jump and keen.

 

 

“Very good, little one.”

 

 

One hand left the addicting flesh to fiddle with the button and zipper of his pants and let his own, massive arousal spring free, hard and thick and tanned, throbbing and drooling for the cute little hole already. He leaned back against the plush backrest then, and luckily, his pet knew what to do or he would have to school him some more. Ansem watched the boy straighten and sit up, unsteadily, the right little hand sliding back between his legs and was grabbed by one of his own larger ones, guided further up, away from his cock. The man grinned again as he made two of those slender finger separate from the others, and pushed them into the by now pliant pucker, slowly. He was prided to see that the muscle had been teased into submission and opened pliantly, even as the boy hissed and mewled, but finally pushed back against his own fingers. His hand was guided to Master's familiar cock, which Sora fumbled with to align it with the wanton hole.

 

 

Although…Master could use some teasing as well, Sora decided. He kept the shaft in a tight grip, although his fingers did not reach completely around it, and sat up slightly on his knees, one hand supporting himself on one armrest as he slid the slimy head up and down the slit of his ass, moaning to it himself each time it glided over the trembling muscle hidden in it. Pride flowed through him as he heard the man behind him moan through clenched teeth.

 

 

“Sora…”

 

 

“Mmmh, Master…”

 

 

The boy yelped as his hips were grabbed as yanked down, the thick presence at once almost half in his body. Torturously, he was given no break, but pulled down further, slowly enough to feel inch after inch, well slicked surprisingly, sliding up into him. And down again. And up. Mmmh. Again and again, until Master's hands only rested on his hips, the tips of his middle fingers resting against the weak spot located where thigh met groin, a visible indent right now with his thighs spread apart like this. He was expected to move on his own.

 

 

 

The tall, tanned man tilted his head back with a pleased purr as the youth began. Up and down slowly first, then gaining speed, until Sora was all but bouncing on his lap, keening and moaning in that wanton, high-pitched voice of his. His fingertips were rubbing against the sensitive nerve bundles on each side of the boy's body which he knew drove the child mad. As much as he loved pounding the boy, into the mattress, the carpet, the wall, in each and every position, he adored having to do nothing for once, just sit back and enjoy the tight presence slide up and down his desperate arousal. But he could wait. Yes he could…

 

 

And so, after Sora had come with a squeal, Ansem only grinned and rested a hand against the slender, sweaty back in front of him and pushed the boy slowly, almost doubling him over, scooted himself some, and began to slowly lift and lower his hips, watching his slick, dark cock disappear between creamy cheeks, reappear, and vanish again, slowly, while the boy mewled in protest. He knew he rubbed right against the sensitive organ inside the boy, the tight, velvet walls were throbbing around him and the now weak muscle quivering as if trying desperately to get him out of there. Truth to be told, it only aroused him more. As soon as his pet's sex drive was up again from his relentless teasing, he let the boy bounce once more, and only after two more climaxes that left the boy limp and panting in his arms he allowed himself to come as well, deep inside his pretty pet.

 

 

“Mmmh. Good boy.”

 

 

A little kiss was pressed to a fading bite mark on a narrow shoulder as Ansem held the boy close, stroking back his sweaty bangs and dipping his fingers into the hot evidence of Sora's punishment, the last which he had forced out with his hands, stroking the poor boy's cock as long as it took to give the last he had. Sora tasted sweet, as always. Sweet with pleasurable suffering and delightful pain and exhaustion. Ansem carried the boy over to the wide bed, yanked back the comforter, and gently laid him down, finishing with a kiss to his forehead. “Sleep, little one.”

 

 

And Sora did. This was his life now, his fate…a strangely familiar face, a female one, appeared in front of his mind's eye but was gone as quickly as it had come. He would ask Riku about it in the morning. Although, it wasn't like Riku every answered him.

 

 

Sitting in his chair again, Ansem grabbed a book and still read as the boy's breathing had deepened and fallen calm.

 

 

~

 

 

Terrible? More? It's fun to write, but reviews make it even better. I plan on more chapters, but I tend to lose my drive without feedback…~hinthint~

 

 

~VSKitteh