Kukuluth watched the steady rise and fall of Kasander's chest. During sleep, the youth's peaceful face belied the devil within. During these quiet moments Kukuluth could almost forget the neverending anger that raged behind Kasander's eyes. Against his better judgement, his hand strayed from his side and brushed lightly down the boy's pale flank. Golden red eyelashes fluttered and a slender hand twitched. Gooseflesh raised itself over Kasander's skin, and Kukuluth drew his errant hand back before he actually roused the child.

A groan he had forgotten from earlier finally escaped and Kukuluth clenched his eyes and fists shut, trying desperately to gain control over himself.

It had been two weeks of torment preceded by a month of desperate anguish. Surely the Gods could sense his pain. Could they not see what they were doing to him? He had done as bidden by his father. He had slaughtered all that stood before him. He had pillaged the towns he came across. He had raped and razed. But those things he did to answer the driving urge within him. It was only sated when enough had died, when the lamentation for the dead and desecrated met some internal gauge only his father truly understood. He gained great pleasure from them, a pleasure exquisite and pure, but it was a fleeting delight. One that sent him fevered dreams in the night, of delight so pure mortals could not survive its touch. He awoke lying in sheets drenched with sweat.

The urge had been sated when his father had called him here. But he needed a release from its ghostly remnants. An escape from the pain and suffering. A coupling of pleasure. Usually he turned to Mad Maggie; she understood his need to release the torment. She was a willing vessel, the only one who could stand his touch without showing physical signs of discomfort. Some said she was too crazy to understand what he was truly asking of her. Others thought perhaps that the torment in her own mind was greater than anything he had done to her. But he had seen the light in her eyes as he'd flogged her for the first time. He heard his father's wife's voice as she screamed her delight to the stars above. He'd felt her gentle touch on his face as he lie sated in her arms. Perhaps Maggie was crazy. Or perhaps Maggie walked closer to Torment and the Fields of Anguish than other mortals. Whatever the answer, Maggie gave him what he needed.

Unfortunately, Maggie was far from this place. That left his pleasure slave. A pleasure slave who would not submit willingly. It wouldn't be a mutual giving, only a taking on his part. He had come too far to ruin what he had accomplished with Kasander. But it was getting harder everyday not to grab the youth and bury himself deep within the slender body, drawing the pleasure and release he needed from the form whether it was given to him willingly or not. As Kasander's Master he had the right to take anything he wanted.

He cursed and stood, turning his back on the compelling form. He didn't want to take release from Kasander. He wanted it given to him. He would have it no other way. With a final glance backwards, he strode across the room, and for the first time in two weeks walked the Palace halls once more.

Overhead exotic birds whistled and squawked to one another. Deep green foliage hid them from his eyes. Kukuluth surveyed the garden.

Garden didn't really fit the room he stood in. It was far more like a self-contained jungle. To his left a small waterfall crashed down into a clear pool from high above. Compared to the waterfalls in the Southern kingdom of Akada it was little, but it roared its might nonetheless. Standing next to it he could hear very little of the room's occupants' conversations. The sky overhead should have been dark with the night; instead, it seemed trapped in an eternal twilight. Dark enough to simulate evening, but bright enough to see.

He had wandered into this place hoping to find peace. Instead the urge to fight and fuck had only grown. His mind kept returning to Kasander. He had somehow managed to survive two weeks locked in a room with a naked pleasure slave. At first it had been easy. Kasander's emaciation had turned his stomach, but the food had begun working its magic almost immediately. The drive to find release had grown to the point he wasn't sure how much longer he could maintain his necessary aloofness.

He growled to himself and tried to think of something other than how wonderful Kasander's body would feel beneath his own.

Something heavy landed on Kukuluth's shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts. He spun with practiced ease and caught the intruder who had dared to touch him. With speed born of the Gods he moved across the room and slammed the form into wall closest to him. The neck held in his grip was soft and he wanted nothing more than to squeeze it until he heard that satisfying crack of the windpipe collapsing on itself. He wondered idly to himself if he would feel better or worse once he had. Without calculated thought he slid his thigh between his victim's legs, pressing himself against his victim's groin. Perhaps he could find release after all. He moaned in need and anguish, thrust his hips forward and squeezed harder.

The punch that sent him reeling backwards came from nowhere. In surprise he released his victim. He slowly stood and gently touched his lip. He was surprised to see a smear of crimson come away on his glove. There were few people in the known worlds who could harm him. Only one with gifts of speed and strength could accomplish such a feat. Lust swelled in his belly. It had been a very long time since he'd had a worthy opponent. He turned to his adversary.

He took in the golden brown hair, the oval face and deep blue eyes.

"Tabris." He acknowledged his foe. "I didn't know you had it in you."

Tabris' blue eyes seemed to glow with an inner light. "There are many things you do not know. But now you know I do not like being choked. Even by you, brother."

Kukuluth smiled ferally. Few people had the balls to proclaim themselves his equal, but that wasn't what had caught his attention.

"Is that all you didn't like?"

Tabris arched an eyebrow, and blue eyes regarded Kukuluth coolly. "Why should I tell you what I like?"

Suddenly Tabris launched himself at Kukuluth. Kukuluth blocked the rain of blows and laughed with glee as they parted.

"When I catch you, little one, I *will* know. I will know your every torment. I will torture you until you scream to your goddess for it to end. But only I will be able to give you the release you will so desperately need. If that doesn't suit you, Priest, leave me to my agony."

It was Tabris' turn to laugh. "What makes you think you will catch me, godling? When I catch you, I will show you the delights you haven't thought of dreaming of yet. You will call to your father to save you from the agony of pleasure. But he will not be able to spare you from my hand. Only at my whim will you receive the release you came here looking for."

Kukuluth grunted in acceptance of their mutual challenge.

He tested Tabris' defenses and found them to be weaker than his own. Then he put all his heart and mind into an attack that would give him his ultimate prize.

A hand slid through Kukuluth's defenses at the last moment and smashed him in the solar plexus. He fell back, gasping, trying to remember that he and the pain were one and that he breathed air only because it was easier than trying not to.

In a blur of motion, his prey ran into the dense underbrush. Kukuluth tracked the sound of the moving foliage and recovered his wind before rushing in after Tabris.

How long they chased one another, fighting when they found each other, Kukuluth couldn't be sure. He stood once more in the clearing trying to find his hidden foe. His breathing was ragged and he couldn't remember feeling more alive than he did at this moment. He turned slowly in a circle, allowing his sharp senses to give him all the information they could.

Out of the corner of his eyes he caught movement by the waterfall and spun, waiting for the attack.

From behind him, warm golden arm slithered around his waist. Trembling hands tugged at the strings to his pants. A warm body pressed against his back and hot breath brushed his ear.

He'd been caught.

"Let's jump into the pool and cool off, godling," Tabris' husky voice whispered from behind him.

Kukuluth submitted to the gentle hands. Tabris had won his challenge. He shivered in anticipation of what torment the child of Delight would put him through.

Kukuluth rolled over to his side and looked at the man lying nearby. His golden brown hair was still damp from their romp in the pool. Tabris' chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and Kukuluth wondered if the young man were asleep. It wouldn't surprise him, considering the nature of their activities. Somehow the page was as alluring as the keys around him, and for the second time that evening, Kukuluth found himself watching someone sleep.

His first urge was to pull the lax body closer to his own, to hold the vessel of his delight. But the page's motives were still indistinct, and he worked for a goddess Kukuluth did not fully trust. Instead, he decided it would be safer to leave before he came to regret what had happened between them. Careful not to disturb the sleeping man, he rolled to his stomach. But before he could stand, a soft voice stopped him.

"You don't have to go."

Kukuluth turned to the page. "I've already kept you from your duties for far too long."

"The needs of the Masters *are* my duties."

Kukuluth raised his eyebrows. "You do this for *all* your clients?"

A blush slowly crept over the pale-skinned youth's chest, but the blue gaze never wavered.

"Of course not. But not every Master is trying to heal a broken key."

Kukuluth sighed heavily, his mind once more directed to his pitiful key. He rolled away from the page, settling onto his back, finally breaking eye contact.

"You have not sampled your Key's many charms," Tabris stated simply.

"Have I let your Goddess down, yet again?" Kukuluth asked ruefully. He wondered if she would ever forgive him his transgressions.

"It was just an observation. You have disappointed no one."

"No?" Kukuluth's voice rose in question.

"No," Tabris stated quietly. "You have been cheated. You paid dearly for your Key, and instead of finding pleasure you have only found pain.

"It isn't your fault. You can't expect to heal over a thousand years of damage in two weeks."

The page plucked at the grass beneath him briefly before speaking again.

"He wasn't always like that, you know. I remember when he was little. He used to follow me around asking to be picked up. I did everything I could to protect him from the torment to come. To teach him the things he had once done wrong. But the older he got the more distant he became. The once beautiful child that called me brother and begged to be held had become someone very different. Someone I didn't know. Someone I wasn't sure I wanted to know. When I could wait no longer I finally released him to be a key. I could not have stopped him from becoming who he is; I only pray you can show him who he could be."

Kukuluth reached out and tipped the page's chin back, pulling his gaze from the grass. "Oniichan."

Blue eyes widened in surprise at the term of endearment.

"You did not fail him. If anyone has failed Kasander, it would be the Gods. Did they not punish him for a thousand years and never achieve his confession? Did they not abandon him to you? You have done all you could. Do not torment yourself so. It is my turn."

A beautiful smile slowly spread itself over Tabris' face, radiating his relief. Kukuluth basked in the page's glorious light and finally gave in to his first urge. Tomorrow he would agonize over his lost key. Tonight was meant for delight.

Kasander was disturbed from disjointed dreams of pain and pleasure by the sound of heavy boots on the marble floor. He watched with surprise as his Master closed the door softly behind him. Without a thought to feigning sleep, Kasander sat up, startled by this unusual development.

His Master strode across the room, discarding clothing as he walked, leaving an untidy trail between the door and the bed. He nodded his head as he passed Kasander, casually acknowledging his presence, but dismissing it as well. Without a word his Master stretched out upon the bed, his eyes closing in sleep.

The time stick glowed early morning, a mere ? away from the time his Master usually rose. Breakfast would be coming soon. He gazed over the edge of the bed at his sleeping Master, wonderment upon his face.

Where had his Master been?

Slowly, Kasander rose from his spot on the floor, unsure of how to deal with this turn of events. He picked up each discarded item and carefully folded it before putting it away. The last item, his Master's boots, led him to the edge of the bed. After carefully placing them in their proper place he turned back to the golden form sprawled on the bed.

He tried to think of the places that his Master might have gone for an entire night. While the Palace was built for catering to every known pleasure, it wasn't designed for them to be sampled alone. He knew better than most that the Palace was a very boring place when not with someone.

A frown creased his brow as he attempted to figure the puzzle out. His eyes roamed over his Master's nude form, looking for clues to where he had been. He returned to three long streaks that ran down the left side of his Master's back. They were pale and fading quickly. Kasander looked at the marks, running through the things that might have caused them. They didn't look like tree limb lashes; they were parallel to one another, not criss crossing. Rocks would have left scrapes, not scratches.

Slowly he raised his own hand and looked at his own recently trimmed nails before turning his hand over and spacing his fingers out over the long scratches. They matched exactly.

Kasander stumbled away from the bed, clutching his hand as if he'd been burned. His Master hadn't been alone. He'd spent the entire night *with* someone.

Shock quickly faded to shame. His Master had turned to someone else for pleasure, instead of using him as he was supposed to. The urge to cry welled up from within. Some part of Kasander rebelled against this idea. He was sure there was some unspoken rule about Masters sleeping with the staff.

/He's *my* Master! He's mine! It's not fair./ The first of his tears began to fall. What would happen to him if he couldn't please his Master's anymore?

As he stood reviewing the potential traitors, his eyes widened at a new thought. Perhaps it wasn't staff at all. What if his Master had been with another key?

The thought burned through him, searing away his shame and fears, replacing them with the intense heat of anger.

/No one takes what is mine! I won't allow it./

With his hands balled into tight fists, Fetim walked back to the bed and the sleeping form upon it. He had never seduced a Master before; he'd never needed to. They'd always stayed where they belonged, with him. He didn't enjoy the idea of starting now, but sometimes to win the war, sacrifices had to be made. The knowledge of what he would gain by this calculated manipulation helped to ease his bruised pride.

/Kings do not beg and neither will I. I only do this to retain what is mine./

He gritted his teeth and stroked a hand down the long golden flank.

Before he could comprehend what had happened, he was airborne. He landed with a whuff of expelled air.

"That's a good way to get yourself killed, Kasander."

Kasander turned toward his Master, still trying to figure out how he'd ended up lying in the bed. His Master's eyes were closed and if he hadn't heard him speak he would have assumed his Master were still asleep.

"Now what do you need?" His Master asked.

Kasander floundered for an answer. "I just..." His own breathy voice stopped him short.

Green eyes cracked open and peered at him through dark lashes.

Kasander felt his plans of seduction sliding away from him as he returned his Master's gaze. The voice screamed at him to do something, to kiss his Master, anything that would corral his wandering ways.

"You know the rules, Kasander. You are not allowed to touch things that aren't your own without permission." His Master's voice didn't seem to hold its usual edge. "Now find something to do and let me sleep."

Kasander intended to tell his Master it was an accident and that he didn't *want* to touch "things that weren't his own," with or without permission. It was what the voice was screaming at him to do. Instead words he hadn't even thought seemed to spill of their own accord from his lips.

"You were gone *all* night," he accused his Master, the betrayal once more bitter on his tongue.

His Master's sleepy eyes opened further.

"You aren't supposed to. Not without me. *I'm* your Key!" He spat indignantly. Hadn't someone told his Master the rules? Couldn't he see that what he'd done was wrong? "You were with someone else all night. That's not how its supposed to be. You just can't-" Kasander stopped before he finished his sentence and revealed too much.

"I can't what, Kasander? Find pleasure at the Palace? That's what the Palace is about. I'm not paying to be your whipping boy, your someone to hate. When I do find delight, you don't get to condemn me for it."

Kasander gasped at his Master's accusations. The tears he'd been struggling to control finally broke free and slid down his face.

"NO! It's not like that! I don't care what you do here. But you can't just abandon me! You can't just leave me for some..." Kasander searched for the appropriate words and, finding none, he improvised, "Gutter slut!"

He knew at once they were wrong and covered his mouth with his hands. How long would he have to wear the gag this time?

His Master's eyes hardened and Kasander closed his own, shielding them from the blows to come.

Suddenly laughter rang out around him. Kasander looked at his Master in startlement. He'd never heard him laugh before.

"M-m-master?" he questioned.

Finally, his Master's chuckles died away and Kasander was surprised to find his Master gathering him up in his arms, and pulling him closer.

Kasander gasped as his body came in full contact with his Master's. Sinewy limbs wrapped around his own, holding him in place as his Master gazed at him with an unreadable expression.

"What? What are you looking at?"

His Master's serious face never relented."You know, Kasander, if I didn't know better I'd say *your* eyes were the green ones this morning," his Master stated after a moment.

Kasander reached up to touch his cheek. Confusion swam through him. This Master never did the things he was supposed to do, and was always saying things that didn't make sense. "My eyes are gold, Sir," he stated simply.

His Master chuckled before answering. "So they are, little one. So they are." He easily turned Kasander over in the bed so that they lay back to stomach. Long arms wrapped around Kasander's chest, one hand lying gently on his collar bone, the other draped across his belly, calloused fingers brushing gently against his hipbone. A strong leg was thrown over his own and his Master's other knee part them slightly. The body next to him shifted a little and settled.

"You know, if you keep saying things like that, people are going to think we're in love." His Master's soft words were carried to him in the warm breath that whispered over his ear.

Kasander just lay against the solid body in shock. He wasn't in love with his Master. He didn't love anyone. By the time he thought of saying something, his Master's heavier breathing told him it would fall on sleeping ears.

With a sigh, Kasander shifted into the soft bed and warm body, letting them lull him back to sleep.