Fetim lay quietly and listened to the sounds around him. He heard the sound of movement to his right and knew the Master was up andmoving around. Apparently, he'd grown bored of reading. The last time he'd awakened, all the furniture had been moved to the walls and the Master seemed quite pleased with the enormous bare spot in the middle of the room. He'd tried to find out what the man had in mind, but had simply received a hard look and a thin-lipped frown.

Of course he'd been forced to eat again till he thought he might burst, and sent straight back to bed. Fetim wasn't foolish enough to believe that the sleep that stole over him for such long periods was part of his digestion process. His Master was causing it.

He just couldn't figure out why. He had begun to wonder what the Master did to him while he slept. He didn't awaken even remotely sore. There were no marks or signs that the Master had touched him. Yet there had to be a reason that the Master was forcing him to sleep so much. His mind wrestled with the problem, but he simply couldn't think of a reason that made sense.

A light tapping sound startled him and almost forced him from his feigned slumber. He couldn't hear the door open, it was too well maintained, but he did hear the quick steps cross the room.

"Breakfast as you ordered, Sir," Melicar said, and silver chattered against the laquered table top.

"Thank you, Melicar," The Master responded.

"Is there anything else you need, Sir?"

"No, that is all. I believe I have everything we will need for today, but I will ring if I find I have forgotten anything."

"Of course, Sir." Clothing rustled as Melicar bowed. His shoes clicked lightly on the marble floor before the door softly closed.

The silver clattered again. Scents that made his mouth water, and his stomach grumble, wafted to Fetim's nose. He lie still, hoping the Master assumed he was still asleep.

For a long moment there was only silence, and Fetim couldn't begin to guess what the Master was doing now. The sudden voice in the quietness caused him to jump.

"Enough pretending, Kasander. If you don't get up your ransht meat will get cold and your oogla berries warm."

Fetim rolled over and opened his eyes. His gaze fell on the man leaning on the table. His arms were crossed over his chest, green eyes looking through him, lips quirked in humor. Fetim slid out of bed and padded to the toilet., surprised by the folded screens placed near the bathroom area. He quickly relieved himself, trying not to stare at the intricate embroidery that graced each screen.

He stared at the Master's back as he returned to the table. What was this man up to? No one had worried about privacy before. No one had been with him long enough to care. He remembered the Master's curt command to not stare at him while he bathed. Obviously this was one was a prude.

As he walked back across the room, he sank into the floor. He stopped and stared down at the ankle-deep plush crimson carpet. It was an exact duplicate of the rug under the bed. It filled the center of the room, soft and luxuriant.

He looked up at the Master. Why had he added the carpet? Why? There were so many questions and no answers.

The dark head turned and green eyes once more stared at him.

"Wonderful, isn't it? It's like red grass only better," The Master said before waving him towards the table. "Come eat. We can play on the carpet later."

"Play? Is that what it's called now?" The scornful words slipped out before he could stop them. Without thought he covered his mouth with his hands, wishing he had a way to retract them before they reached the Master. But once said they had their usual effect.

The green eyes that had been grinning at him hardened. "Depends on what it is you are refering to, Kasander. What I meant, I said."

Kasander knew he'd done it again. He was going to end up eating his breakfast off the floor again. The voice inside screamed at him to tell him which *it* he meant. Instead he averted his eyes to the floor and finished crossing the room.

/You're such an idiot! Tell him! Tell him the abuse he calls sex is the it you mean! Tell him the torment he calls pleasure! You weak-spined, sniveling man lover!/ the voice screamed.

The Master made a hrumphing sound and pushed back the chair next to his own.

"Sit."

It was a simple command, and for the first time since he'd became a Key, he sat in a chair like a man and not on the floor to eat his breakfast.

The fork shook in his hand as he picked it up to eat with. He looked at the meat and fruit. They were his favorites. He glanced at the Master and then back at the plate. One of these items was drugged.

/It has to be the meat,/ He logicked. /A berry has skin to keep it safe from something like that./

"Quickly, Kasander, we have much to do today," The Master said before spearing a piece of meat from Fetim's plate.

He watched in wonder as the Master ate the meat, apparently appreciating its flavor over the liquidy gruel with oddly colored lumps that he usually ate.

"Kasander, put food in your open mouth or I will feed you." The Master's words were light, but Fetim heard the warning in them.

He quickly put something in and chewed it, trying to understand this new puzzle. Without really tasting his food he did as he was told, wondering when the sleepiness would begin to steal over him.

He finished and pushed his empty plate away, and rubbed his full stomach. He groaned. It seemed the plates of food got bigger every day.

"Full?" The Master asked.

Fetim nodded and suddenly belched loudly. He glanced at the Master and covered his mouth with his hands.

The Master chuckled. "I'm pleased to know you appreciate your breakfast."

"What makes you..." The beginning of the sentence was out before he thought but Kasander quickly clenched his teeth together, trapping the rest of it in. Since he'd eaten, he was sure the Master would find a far worse punishment for him than kneeling to eat.

The Master shook his head in disappointment. "Whether you like it or not, you will eat three times a day. You will eat all the food you are given. If you refuse, you will be tied down and force fed."

"Why?" Fetim asked. /Why do you care?/

"Your emaciation disgusts me." Green eyes bored into Fetim.

He looked away. Eating wouldn't change anything. He had never carried weight well. He had *always* been scrawny. Food couldn't change that.

They sat in silence for a few minutes longer until the Master pushed back his chair and stood.

"Come, it is time for you to start your day."

"But what about..." He hesitated before adding /the drug?/

A frown pulled at the Master's lips.

Fetim got up and followed the Master across the room to the bathing area.

"Every day you will get up. You will break your night's fast. Then you will do a series of exercises that I will show you."

"Whatever for?" This was just getting stupid. "Beat me and get the fuck over how I look. You can't fix it. I'm cursed."

Suddenly he was propelled backward, a hard body crushing his against the cold marble wall. A muscled arm across his throat cut his air off enough that he couldn't speak.

"You will *never* speak to me in such a way again. Perhaps you have forgotten, but *I* am the Master, Kasander. You will not speak without being spoken to first. In those rare instances when you need to say something you will quietly say 'Master' or 'Sir' and wait for me to respond. Once I have acknowledged you, you will then ask your question or state your need. You will finish your remarks with 'Master' or 'Sir.' I will answer you if you need to know, or weigh your need against what I have planned.

"If you do not get what you want, you will *not* pester me.. Once you have recieved an answer, that is all there is. If you bring up the subject again, you will be punished. If you speak out of turn or say foul things as you just did, I will gag you, until I feel you can behave properly. If after I have gagged you, you continue to struggle to speak, you will be punished.

"My humor is your delight, and my anger your torment, Kasander. Do you understand me?"

Kasander nodded, unable to force words past the arm that pressed against his vocal cords.

"Never force me to remind you of these rules again."

He coughed and wheezed as the Master stepped away, and air rushed back into Kasander's aching lungs.

"Now as I was saying, you will exercise every morning." The Master paused.

Kasander nodded before remembering, "Yes. Yes, Sir."

"I will show you the exercises later. There are other things we will deal with right now. After you have exercised you will bathe and prepare yourself for the day ahead."

The Master spoke the word and the marble wall next to Kasander shifted overhead. A slit opened and the wall protruded bumpily under the slit, and he could feel the floor become grittier beneath his feet.

The next words caused water to start spilling from the slot and splattering on the floor at their feet.

"Set it."

Fetim nodded and gestured until the water was exactly the temperate he liked. Then he stepped into the waterfall, letting it cascade over his body.

The Master removed his vest and was working on his pants, when Fetim's irritation broke free once more.

"I can bathe myself. I don't need you to show me how to do it."

Green eyes looked up from their task, and he knew he was in trouble.

The Master reached out and opened a small chest that held Fetim's bathing supplies. He pulled out a metal bar with a small copper ball in the center. The bar curved around the ball. Black straps hung off both ends.

Before Fetim could think of an escape, a gloved hand grabbed him by the throat.

"Open your mouth."

He wanted to refuse the command, but couldn't stop himself from doing it anyway. He hated the geis that kept him from disobeying the direct orders given to him.

The cold metal was placed in his mouth, the ball resting heavily on his tongue. The straps were secured around his head until the curve of the bar pressed against his palate. Not painfully so, but he knew it could be tightened till it did.

The Master pulled off his soaked leather gloves and threw them on the floor in a sodden heap before staring to take off his leather pants.

For the first time since the Master had arrived, Fetim got to see the Master in a full state of undress. He hadn't been paying attention the first night.

The Master's skin was a smooth light bronze. It was perfect without a single mark to mar its surface. His musculature was heavier than a runner's or dancer's but fell short of stocky. While the muscles weren't overly large, they corded and bunched with the man's movements, showing off their tone. Small dusky nipples decorated perfectly sculpted pects. The Master's abs were also highly sculpted and Fetim could see the definition of each muscle group. The Master's wide shoulders tapered down to narrow hips. Rock hard buttocks flexed as the Master pulled his pants down long, well muscled legs.

Fetim looked away as the Master turned towards him once more, but not before he'd seen the Master's thick manhood. It was as perfect as the rest of the Master was.

Fetim shuddered. All too soon now he would know what it tasted like, what it felt like against his tongue. Soon he would know the agony of it having it shoved deep into his unwilling body.

"Let us try this again, Kasander." The Master's voice pulled Fetim from his thoughts.

Fetim stepped back into the waterfall and closed his eyes, blotting out the sight of the perfect body. A body he would have given anything to have, instead of the cursed on he was in.

"First you will clean yourself on the outside with this soap."

Fetim opened his eyes and looked at the soap the Master held out to him. He took the offered cloth with the other hand.

The soap was a pale pink color. He lifted it to his nose and was surprised at the faint scent of rose that tickled his senses.

"Don't worry, it doesn't leave behind its odor," The Master stated.

Fetim nodded and absentmindedly turned the copper ball in his mouth with his tongue. It clacked soothingly and he began to scrub himself with the soapy rag.

He jumped when another rag wiped over his back.

"Lift your hair."

Kasander obediently did as he'd been told.

In the same effecient way he cleaned himself, his Master scrubbed at Kasander's back. He leaned into the touch, unconciously moving so his Master could scrub all the itchy places he'd forgotten he had.

All too soon the rag disappeared and the blissful scrubbing with it. He sighed heavily and dropped his hair.

A warm chuckle caused him turn to look at his Master.

"If I scrub it anymore you won't have any hide left. I promise when we're done here I'll put some balm on the scars so they don't itch you so."

Fetim shrugged. He didn't care what the Master did. It wasn't like anyone would keep it up once the fool left.

"Now for your hair. You will wash it *twice* with this."

The Master took the soap and rag, carefully placing them in their places on the cabinet, then he handed Fetim a bottle.

Fetim pulled the stopper and again smelled what he'd been given. It was sweet and floral, but he didn't know the scent.

"Jasmine," The Master supplied. "And it will leave a scent."

Fetim gurgled a response about the scent of women and cursed the Master for forcing him to smell like a flower. It came out slurred and garbled, but he knew by the green eyes that bored into him that the Master had understood. He glared at him, daring him to do something.

The Master reached over to the cabinet and pullled out another gag. This one had a larger ball with two short metal shanks loosely attached. The ball chimed as it moved.

"Open your mouth."

He continued to glare, but Fetim was unable to resist the command. The first gag was removed and the second one replaced it.

The ball was heavier and weighed his tongue down. It pressed against the roof of his mouth and forced his mouth open slightly, while the metal shanks pulled on the sides of his mouth. He turned and the ball in his mouth chimed. The vibrations ran through his jaw, distracting him from his thoughts of murder.

The Master took the bottle and poured a generous portion into his hand. It was spread over Fetim's hair and worked into a lather. Strong fingers massaged it into his hair, rubbing at his scalp.

He tipped his head experimentally; the chime sounded and vibrated through his mouth. Kasander hummed the tone and closed his eyes enjoying the sensations of the water cascading down his body, the firm pressure on his scalp and the chime's vibration as he tipped his head side to side.

How long he stood there he wasn't sure, but he slowly became aware that the fingers that had been scratching at his scalp were missing.

"Rinse, small one, and we'll do it again."

Kasander shifted under the cascade, being careful not to expose his slightly open mouth to the rush of water. He didn't particularly favor the idea of drowning in the shower.

Once the suds were gone, more soap was applied and the process started over. He again stood under the water and his Master's hands for an undefined period of time.

The hands finally left him and he leaned back to rinse once again. Once the suds were gone he stepped forward and was handed another bottle. This one was blue, while the first had been red.

"After you've washed your hair you will apply this to it."

Kasander nodded and pulled the stopper. The unmistakable sweet scent of jasmine met his nose. He poured the liquid into his palm and spread it over his hair. The clear oil quickly turned his hair into a slick mess.

He turned to wash it out when the Master stopped him.

"You have to leave it in for a few minutes."

Irritation flickered through Kasander's mind, but he ignored it. He was too content to truly care.

Kukuluth watched as a calm Kasander tipped his head to the side. He heard the muffled chime of the ball in the youth's mouth. He waited till the count of three and watched as Kasander tipped his head to the other side.

He had expected to fight Fetim from beginning to end of the shower. For too long Kasander had been allowed to do what he wanted with only the threat of violence to curb his behavior. Unfortunately, violence and pain had long ago quit working as a punishment. It was simply something that happened to him. He knew it didn't really matter what he did; eventually his Masters would get around to beating him. Eventually the pain would come. So he no longer even tried to behave as he'd been trained. And the Masters' usual form of punishment no longer worked.

But this honey-eyed angel that was content playing with the gag in his mouth was an amazing transformation. One that Kukuluth hadn't expected. He replayed the morning over in his mind, trying to understand what could have brought this change on.

He shook his head and grinned ruefully. Delight worked in mysterious ways. Perhaps re-establishing the rules wouldn't be as difficult as he had first anticipated.

"Kasander."

Warm golden eyes gazed at him through dark lashes.

"Why don't you come over here and we'll do the next step while we're waiting on your hair."

The crimson head bobbed and Kasander walked to where Kukuluth pointed. He turned in a circle trying to figure out the next step before turning confused eyes back onto Kukuluth.

"Every day you will clean yourself on the outside and the inside."

Dawning understanding crossed Kasander's face. Anger boiled across his once calm countenance. Suddenly, the angel that Kukuluth had spent almost 20 minutes scrubbing, disappeared and Fetim reasserted himself full force.

He didn't have to be a mind reader to see the murder in Fetim's eyes or be a linguist to understand the garbled snarl that fought its away around the gag.

Kukuluth sighed. Apparently not even Delight's many wiles could subvert Fetim's unending rage. Kukuluth fought momentarily with his rising frustration. After seeing the contented angel that Kasander could be, Kukuluth found himself wanting to rip Fetim from Kasander's body with his bare hands. However, pain only strengthend Fetim. Only pleasure appeared to weaken the vulgar, greedy fiend that inhabited Kasander's body.

Kukuluth raised his eyebrows in challenge. "Either you can cooperate with my instructions or I can shackle you to the tub and order you to do exactly what I say. The choice is yours."

Kukuluth followed Kasander's thoughts as they crossed his face. Kasander didn't want to submit, but he hated helplessness even more.

"You will clean yourself every day on the inside as well."

Kukuluth picked up the odd mesh hose that was connected to the tub's spiget. He had already set the water.

"Come here," He commanded.

Kasander complied, but Kukuluth could tell it was only because the spell forced him to.

"Lean forward and place your hands on the wall." There was a long pause before Kasander did as he'd been instructed. Fetim was fighting with all he had.

"Now look at me."

Kasander turned his head and angry orange eyes bore into him. Kukuluth knew if looks could kill, he'd be nothing more than a dark smudge on the floor.

"You will place a little of this oil on the tip of the hose." He demonstrated what oil he meant and how much.

"Then you will insert the tip."

He ran the oil-slicked nozzle down the cleft between Kasander's ass cheecks, and rubbed the pucker hidden there. A shudder ran through Kasander at the light probing. Kukuluth gently pressed the small tip into Kasander's body.

He heard Kasander's hiss. Kukuluth looked at him with no sympathy.

"I told you not to fight. You're just making it worse on yourself." He paused. "Then you'll turn on the water."

Kukuluth turned the water on to a decent trickle.

"You *will* tell me when you're full." he commanded. He had no intention of being sprayed in revenge.

Finally, Kasander started gurgling something and Kukuluth shut the water off and removed the tip.

"You will wait until you can't hold it anymore, and then you will release the water in the toilet."

He gave instructions. He knew Fetim would follow them. He didn't have to threaten cleaning up his mess for Kasander to know that would be the punishment if he did anything foolish.

Many long minutes of glaring at one another went by before Kasander hurried to the toilet and passed the water.

Kukuluth held out the hose. "You will do it again."

More murderous looks followed, but Kasander repeated the steps Kukuluth had given him.

Once finished, Kukuluth motioned toward the shower. "Let's rinse your hair, now."

Kasander stalked angrily back to the shower and stood under the water, his arms folded across his chest in defiance.

"Well, aren't you the picture of brattiness," Kukuluth stated cheerfully before leaning in and kissing Kasander on the tip of his nose.

Kasander's eyes widened in surprise. Before he could recover his composure, Kukuluth slid his hands under the water and into the thick, red locks, vigorously rinsing the oil out.

The chime bing-bonged as Kukuluth relentlessly battled the badly damaged hair. Finally, he deemed the hair clean.

With a light swat to the bottom, he sent Kasander scampering from the shower. He made sure Kasander started to dry himself before turning off the shower, and prepared himself for the next battle in the reclaiming of Kasander's body.