Kukuluth held Kasander's lax form as the boy dozed. The child was so unfamiliar with his own orgasms that they seemed to exhaust him. After each one the boy always slept peacefully, content to snuggle with Fetim's sworn enemy. He hoped that when Kasander awoke, he would find his arms full of honey-eyed angel yet again. He already knew the first thing they would have to deal with upon rising, whether it be an angel or a demon that awoke.

Finally, after an indeterminate amount of time, Kasander began squirming, signaling his wakefulness. Kukuluth gently pushed damp crimson hair off Kasander's forehead, while his other hand leisurely drew abstract pictures on the soft skin of Kasander's back.

Something soft flittered against his neck, and Kukuluth knew Kasander had opened his eyes. Now would be the moment of truth. Had he infuriated Fetim by intimately touching Kasander's ass, or had he simply finished sating his so far insatiable slave?

Unable to wait for the inevitable outcome, Kukuluth rolled them until they both lay on their sides. He raised himself up and looked down at the pale form lying next to him on the plush carpet.

Amber eyes looked at him sleepily, and a small smile played at the corners of Kasander's lips. His slave sighed contentedly and his eyes fluttered closed.

Silently, Kukuluth thanked Delight for her continued gift and pressed small, chaste kisses against Kasander's face. He covered Kasander's forehead, nose, eyes and cheeks with them, begging his father and his father's wife for their continued blessing, wordlessly promising to cherish their gift if they could only help him hold on to it.

Slender hands tentatively moved over his back. Kukuluth appreciated the gesture and fought to control the tears that formed under his eyelids. He placed his last kiss against Kasander's warm, lax lips, ignoring the knowledge that Kasander had yet to return a single one. He knew it was simply to much too ask of the abused child so soon.

He pulled back, unsurprised by the strange sound of their chests ungluing from one another.

However, Kasander's eyes widened and he glanced down to where their skin was still stuck together by their mutual fluids.

Kukuluth chuckled. "I would suggest we bathe now."

Kasander nodded and watched in awestruck fascination as Kukuluth slowly peeled them apart. It was slower going as they got lower, they each had a sensitive organ that simply disliked being stuck to anything. With expert hands, he gently removed their flaccid cocks from each others bodies.

Kasander's blush rose from his toes as his sleeping cock began to awaken under Kukuluth's gentle touch.

Kukuluth let it go, noting to himself that perhaps assuming he'd sated Kasander had been an ill-considered choice of words.

Finally, they were apart. Kukuluth stood and held out his hand to Kasander.

"Why don't you run us some bath water, little one, while I call Malicar for a light snack? I don't know about you, but all this play has made me a little hungry."

Kasander blushed at the word "play," but nodded his head before tentatively accepting the hand up.

Kasander glanced down at his sticky chest as his Master wandered across the room, to the bell pull hidden next to the bed. He touched the gunk stuck to him with trembling hands. It wasn't just his Master's. It wasn't just his own.

He remembered what he was supposed to be doing and wandered over to the tub. He turned on the water, adjusted it to his Master's liking and dug through the bathing cabinet. He pulled out his Master's favorite salts. They smelled of amber, heady and musky with a touch of lemon grass to freshen the scent. He threw the satchel into the water. As an afterthought he added some of his own jasmine oil to the mix. He wondered what their scents would smell like together.

He waited until the salt satchel floated to the top, quickly snagged it out of the water and put it up so Malicar could refill it. Now with his task done, his mind was left to wander.

None of his Masters before had cared if he'd found pleasure. He'd only worn their seed upon his chest. The few times he'd been allowed, cruel hands had pulled and tugged at him until his body finally gave out and released the white fluid from deep within it. There had been very little pleasure in the act, and the Master usually seemed disgusted by the warm liquid that he'd forced from Kasander's body. But this Master hadn't cared. He'd begged Kasander to come on him, between them. He'd called him beautiful.

This Master didn't seem to do anything his other Masters had done in the past. If he hadn't seen the key with his own eyes, he might have thought the man had somehow ended up in the wrong room.

"Are you going to get in?" A husky voice next to his ear pulled him from his thoughts.

"Yes, sir, I am." He slowly stepped into the enormous tub and waded in to his mid thigh. Five purple spots on his thighs caused him to pause. Four of them were on the outside of his thigh and one was on the inside. He reviewed his day, trying to figure out where he'd gotten them.

"I'm sorry about that, Kas. I guess I got carried away." His Master was looking at the marks as well.

Kasander splayed his hand over a set of the bruises, understanding where they had come from. His Master had quite the grip.

"It's okay, Sir. It didn't hurt." It mustn't have since he couldn't remember when his Master had done it.

He glanced up, and then tucked his head in shame. "I'm sorry for the bite, Sir. It looks painful."

Water splashed behind him, announcing his Master's presence in the tub with him.

"There is nothing to be sorry for, little one. You cannot hurt me anymore than I let you. And I happen to find great delight from that torment."

As his Master said this, strong arms wrapped around him. Kasander pressed back against the solid form behind him, as unreasonable tears prickled his eyes. He glanced down at his stomach, and found leather-clad fingers playing with his belly chain.

He looked at them oddly. Why had his Master worn his gloves into the bath? He never wore them when he bathed alone.

A sense of wrongness tickled at the back of his mind, stirring fear in his gut.

He caught a hand and tugged at the offensive glove. "Master, you forgot to remove your gloves. You'll ruin them if you get them wet."

Instead of laughing and helping him, as Kasander had hoped his Master would, the hand was pulled from his grasp.

"I didn't forget, little one. Don't worry about them. I have many more."

Kasander's guts clenched tight, as the voice he hadn't heard all day began to whisper in the back of his mind. There had to be a reason his Master hadn't taken them off, yet he couldn't think of any. He removed them when he bathed himself. He had removed them the first time he had bathed Kasander. Yet today he wore them into the water.

A horrible thought pushed itself forward out of the murkiness of his fear.

He turned towards his Master and tried to catch one of the black-gloved hands. His Master seemed to sense his thoughts, and pulled them away from Kasander's questing fingers.

"Kasander, leave it," his Master ordered.

But he couldn't. He had to know. He relaxed, behaving as if he'd given up on catching one. His Master lowered his arms and moved to pull him to him.

Kasander quickly grabbed a wrist and tugged insistently on the fingers, trying to remove the glove before his Master could react. The stubborn leather refused to release his Master's hand, and all to quickly his own wrist was seized in an iron grip.

Hard green eyes bored into him, and he knew he'd angered his Master. But he had to know why. Was his Master scarred? He didn't care about that. He only wanted to feel his Master's skin against his own. Couldn't the man see that?

"Kasander. Let. Go." His Master's voice was harsh with anger.

He did as he'd been commanded. He didn't have a choice, the geas wouldn't let him.

It wasn't scarring. His Master wasn't a vain man. He knew that. He'd spent too much time with him not to. No. There was another reason. One Kasander didn't want to believe was true. It made his insides ache, and he suddenly wished the voice were back to tell him what to do. Instead there was only silence. He'd been abandoned by even that. Somehow that thought cut him worse than his Master's obvious rejection of him.

"Why?" He moaned to the man before him. "Why can't you stand to touch me? What have I done? I swear I'll never do it again, if you'll just touch me."

Gloved hands caught his chin and pulled it up so he was forced to look into his Master's green eyes.

"I am touching you, Kasander. I've spent all day touching you." His Master's voice was soft. And Kasander knew he should be reasonable and let it go, but the hurt inside refused to just be forgotten.

He pulled away from the hated gloves and pushed the body next to him, stumbling backwards and sloshing water over the edge of the tub when it wasn't his Master but his own body moved by the force of his push.

"No! You're not! I want you to touch me with your hands, not your gloves. I want to feel you touch me. YOU! Just you!" He paused for breath, too angry and hurt to care what punishment his Master thought up for his outburst. "Am I that repulsive to you?" He fought the tears that threatened. "You said I was beautiful. You said…" His voice broke and he stopped.

Suddenly he didn't want to know his Master's answer. He just wanted to be away from here, away from his Master, away from the pain. He quickly strode to the side of the tub. He would run across the room and hide under the guillotine's black drape. His Master never followed him under there. He would hide until it didn't matter what his Master thought anymore. He'd hide until the Gods finally let him die.

Strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him from the edge before he could step out.m

"No! Let me go! I hate you! I hate you! I don't care. I don't want to know! Let me go! I hate you!" Kasander struggled ineffectually against the crushing arms. He fought until black dots swam before his eyes and his sides heaved as he tried to pull in air that refused to fill his lungs. He slumped in his Master's grip, unable to fight any longer.

The arms that kept him from breathing eased and the world that had almost gone black swam lazily back into view. Slowly he realized his Master was speaking to him.

"Sssh, it's not like that." His Master's lips ghosted over the back of his neck, raising the small hairs there. "I would give anything to touch you with my bare hands. Great Torment, Kasander, it's what I want more than you can begin to understand." His Master's breath brushed against his ear, and Kasander couldn't stop the shiver that ran through him. "But I can't, little one. I can't. You've already been through so much torment." His Master licked the backside of his ear and he became aware of his Master's gloved hand rubbing his stomach, chest and thighs beneath the water they were in. "I won't do that to you."

"But why?' his voice sounded high and thin to his ears, but he didn't care.

"Sssh, just relax, Kasander." His Master soothed him with his voice and hands. His Master remained silent until he finally gave himself over to Master's gentle caresses. His legs were spread apart until they crossed over his Master's thighs and dangled on the outside, no longer pinned by his Master's.

Warm water came in contact with intimate regions, causing him to shudder as unseen hands traveled lightly over the skin of his inner thigh. He sighed and wished his Master had let him die. This horrible ache had to be worse than the cold silence of death.

"Why… why… why…" he mumbled to the blurry world around him.

"Because I do not wish to become your greatest torment. When you look upon me, I only want you to see delight." Warm lips brushed the side of his neck and an even warmer tongue gently laved at the cool skin. "Every one of your screams of agony haunts me. I wake from your dreams shaking and crying. How could I add to them? I could not live a moment longer knowing I had deepened your anguish. Not now."

Teeth grazed his shoulder, nipping lightly before gentle kisses were pressed to the worried spots.

"How could touching me skin to skin harm me any more than this?" he asked, not sure if he'd said it out loud or only thought it.

The still-gloved hands pulled him closer and the arms around him tightened.

"I'm sorry, Kasander. I never intended to hurt you. I just needed you to stop… I needed you to listen…"

Slowly the arms relaxed and the hands began their light caresses.

"Hate me if you must, Kasander. You have every right to do so. I would never tell you how you must feel. But know that if I could touch you skin to skin, I would. I can't touch you with my hands, their…"

Silken threads fell over his shoulder, tickling his sides and front as his Master rested his forehead against Kasander's shoulder.

His Master still hadn't answered the question, but under the steady onslaught of his Master's expert hands and soothing voice, tinged with an unexpected sadness, Kasander wasn't sure he cared anymore. He just wanted to forget it and finish their bath. He wanted to recapture his Master's mischievous mood. He wanted to remember their now forgotten play.

Without thought he caught one of the dark locks that had fallen over his shoulder and was now fanned out like a dark cloud between his legs. He dragged it through the water, watching it swirl and spiral around itself with the movement. He lifted the dripping piece and brushed it against his own skin. A little shiver ran down his spine.

The weight of his Master's head lifted from his shoulder. Kasander sighed and leaned back against his Master. He twirled the lock in his fingers before running across his own chest.

"It's my curse, Kasander."

Kasander blinked open his eyes, the soft words slowly coming to mean something through the fuzz that seemed to be seeping into his whole body.

"I can't touch anyone skin to skin with my hands without creating torment." His Master sighed heavily. "For some it is little more than an uneasy prickling on their skin, but for most it is an intense pain. I have disfigured and maimed permanently with my touch. I can't risk you that way, Kasander. I won't."

His Master paused, and with his silence came the cessation of the gentle stroking his Master had maintained throughout his entire conversation.

"Please, Kasander." His Master paused again. "You will have to trust me, little one, if I could touch you safely… knowing it brought you delight…"

Kasander slowly turned in his Master's arms. There were many things he had expected to see, but silent tears that slowly ran down his Master's face was not one of them.

He raised a wet hand and wiped one of the wet trails away. He watched in wonder as his Master closed his agonized eyes and pressed his cheek into the caress.

"Master," he sobbed, unable to stop the tears. His Master was imperturbable. It shook him to the core to see him weep so.

He cupped his Master's face and pressed his lips to his Master's. Then he kissed each spot that his Master had only minutes earlier, returning the gentle gifts he'd been given. Perhaps he didn't understand all the why's of it, but he knew he'd do anything to drive the anguish from his Master's eyes.

Finally, his Master caught his hands in his wet, leather-clad ones and removed them from his face. He clasped them together and kissed each one.

"Don't worry about me, little one, I came to terms with it long ago. It need not bother us ever again."

Kasander nodded before turning back around in his Master's lap, resuming his position of before.

"I'm sorry," Kasander whispered.

"It is forgotten," his Master replied before nibbling on his neck.

Kasander squealed in surprise and tugged on an errant lock of his Master's hair.

"Malicar should be here soon with your snack, Master, there is no need to nibble on the help."

His Master sighed dramatically. "I suppose we should get some bathing done while we are in the tub, yes?"

"That is why my Master sent me here, yes," Kasander replied solemnly.

"Where did you hide the sponges, little one?" His Master asked as he searched the tub around them.

Kasander giggled and wiggled out of his Master's grasp before climbing out of the tub and retrieving them from the cabinet.

"You'll never find them in there," he teased.

"Come here, rascal, and bring those with you."

Kasander quickly did as he'd been told. Soon his body was being cleaned with efficient strokes that both scrubbed and caressed. He knew his Master might wash his genitals, but he wasn't sure he wanted his Master to find his stiffening body. Not so soon after their disagreement. Would his Master think it had been just an act?

"Master, I…" He wasn't sure what to say. He only knew he couldn't keep the gentle touches from stirring his sleeping manhood. He squirmed in his Master's lap, trying to find a way away from his Master's expert touches. "You shouldn't… I can't…" He finally gave up and just sputtered indignantly.

His Master paused in his ministrations and dropped his sponge on the side of the tub, before his hands returned, appearing to feel for what the problem was. "What is it, Kas? Did I miss a spot?"

"No. I just thought I could…" His sentence went unfinished as his Master's hands finally ran into his interested cock. It hadn't completely awakened under his Master's bathing techniques, but it was enough that Kasander couldn't hide it. The words "finish myself" became a long moan.

His Master chuckled. "Again? Ah, to be young and enthusiastic."

Kasander could feel his face heat with a blush. He seemed to be doing a lot of that recently. "I'm sorry, Sir. I tried not to… I just… it…"

"Sshh. Never try not to, Kasander. There is nothing I find more beautiful than your delight. I do not mind. Perhaps there will be times when I choose not to do anything about it immediately, but never regret it."

His Master's hands wrapped around him, and Kasander found himself for the third time in one day burning with delight. His Master did not seem interested in controlling his release and let him find it at his own speed.

Soft words of encouragement washed over him as the pleasure quickly built. He reached down and grabbed his Master's legs, anchoring himself to the man who held him so intimately. His Master's fingers brushed over his sac, gently rolling their contents before moving his hand back even further to the sensitive perineum behind it.

He arched his body and screamed his delight into the room around them. All too soon the pleasure erupted up and out, ending his sweet torment.

He awoke to his hair being gently brushed. He glanced up at his Master's face. They were sitting on a bath sheet next to the tub, their feet dangling into the water. His Master was combing his hair with his fingers.

"I'm glad you've awoken. I was afraid I was going to have to start nibbling again. Malicar came while we were distracted. He left the tray of goodies on the table, and I'm famished."

Kasander rolled his eyes heavenwards, knowing there was no putting off feeding his Master any longer.

Together they rose and padded across the room to stuff themselves on rich treats. Sated from their feast and tired from their playing, Kasander joined his Master beneath the silken crimson sheets of the bed. He hummed a contented good night and was asleep before his Master finished settling them to his liking.

Kukuluth had expected sleep to claim him swiftly. Instead he found himself wandering the halls of the Palace, driven from his bed by a restlessness he could not explain. But he'd found years ago that there was no denying the strange urges that set him into motion, not knowing where he'd end up.. Ignoring them only made them stronger.

He was deep within the Palace, much deeper than he'd ever been before. The dark stone walls spoke of age that rivaled his own. The corridor he was in joined several others to form a large hall. It ended with a massive wooden door that was darkened by time, but shone with a deep luster. Someone had spent long hours polishing the ancient timber.

Kukuluth reached out and pulled on the massive wrought iron handle. He knew that for a mortal the door was probably almost impossible to open, but once started, it swung easily on its hinges.

Bright light spilled over him, welcoming him into the heart of the ancient building. Frescos of Delight and Torment in their many incarnations danced erotically on the walls. Beneath his feet, mosaics of cool ceramic displayed Mother Earth and Sister Water nurturing all things upon and within them. Above him Father Sky and Brother Fire destroyed all things, bringing the cycle of life to an end, so that it could begin again. In the center of the room, an altar of pure faceted crystal stood solemnly. Candles adorned its base and clung to its sides, cascading the walls with fractured light.

Deep in the back of the room, an enormous dais stood, with a throne larger than any other he'd seen. A tiny figure dropped off it, and slowly made its way towards him.

The ruffling of feathers pulled him from his mesmerized stare. Coal black eyes stared into him expectantly before blue-black feathers were pulled through a sharp yellow beak.

"Raven," he said as he bowed slightly at the waist.

"Kaw," the large bird responded before resuming its preening.

Kukuluth smiled at Raven's response. Finally, indeed. He supposed he should have expected it from his father's servant. It seemed everyone knew the weave of things before he did.

It didn't surprise him when Tabris finally stopped on the other side of the massive altar. Instead of his usual leather vest his chest was bare, his pale skin reflecting golden candlelight. Gone also were his tight leather pants that Kukuluth had taken so long to tie back onto him. This evening his legs were swathed in a soft, heather-blue cloth that seemed to flow with his movements. A long drawstring was casually tied in a single knot, the ends hanging down to his knees.

Part of Kukuluth wished he could walk around the altar and find out if the material was as soft as it looked. He wished he could worship the smaller man again. To have Tabris take control and make the world disappear behind his delight. But he knew his mind and body were pulled too thin by his long day with Kasander, and he would never be able to do the things Tabris would request of him. His patience was non-existant, and he didn't want to delight others. He wanted to destroy them. He wanted to hear the satisfying crack of things breaking. He wanted others to know torment as acutely as he did.

No, he would not be touching the smaller man tonight.

"You have finally arrived," Tabris stated.

"So Raven has said," Kukuluth answered.

Tabris' blue eyes flickered to the large bird that was now ignoring them completely. It stopped momentarily to return Tabris' gaze before flying past him to land on an enormous phallic statue.

"Why did you call me here?" Kukuluth asked.

Light eyebrows raised in humor. "I did not call you. I was simply tending to the Temple. I have been busy with the details of the Palace and have let my duties here slip. Delight woke me from a perfect sleep to remind me."

"If you did not call me, then why am I here?" Kukuluth asked the figures upon the walls.

Tabris turned to the couple that copulated enthusiastically around them.

"I hear you are a miracle worker. That the cold and aloof Fallen Dragon submits willingly to his Master's attentions. Have you mended his torn wings, son of Torment? Will he soar the winds of Delight once again?"

Kukuluth turned his attention back to the youth that stood casually a few feet away.

"I have mended nothing. He has yet to admit that he was once a golden child of the light, that he has ever soared on his mother's blessings. I have only reminded him what it is to fly. And when he realizes how hard it truly is, he will turn back to his former ways."

Kukuluth turned away, unable to look at the young man across from him anymore.

A cool hand on his shoulder startled him.

"Do not despair. You have accomplished more than any other man, more than your father, more than me."

"That does not ease my torment, Priest."

He was turned and an angry blue gaze bored into him. "Look at me. Can you stand in this place, look me in the eyes and call me that? Do you truly believe me to be nothing more than a lowly priest?"

Kukuluth wanted turn away from the hard eyes, to deny what he knew. But Tabris was right, in this place it would be a sacrilege.

"No, my brother, I do not. I have known from the moment I set eyes on you whose child you were. I have always known you were out there, somewhere. Sometimes it was the only thing that kept me from turning to the Fields of Torment and leaving this mortal shell behind.

"I did not wish to return to the Mother until I had seen you at least once. You are everything I had hoped to find. Surely your labor has not been in vain, and your mother is proud of all your efforts. The Palace is a place of great delight."

Kukuluth took his brother's hands in his own and pressed them against his face. "I did not mean to offend you, godling. It just seemed the ruse was simpler than forcing you to admit your strange relationship to me."

Tabris ran his thumbs over his older sibling's smooth cheeks.

"To deny you, would be to deny myself. Though I carry none of your blood nor you mine, we are of the same weave, you and I. You are the son of Torment and a mortal woman, conceived of a woman's anguished need to carry on a piece of her dead husband. I am the son of Delight and a mortal man. My mother carried my in her body born of fire and water for you, so you would not have to traverse this world alone.

"I have spent a thousand years preparing you a home, a palace worthy of the son of Torment."

His brother's green eyes darkened to almost black, and the look of longing that Tabris had just seen there disappeared behind a rage fueled by a vast torment. It lanced through Tabris when he touched his sibling.

As if Kukuluth could sense Tabris' pain, he pulled away.

"I am not worthy of such a gift. You do not understand the things I have done, the curse I carry."

Kukuluth's gaze dropped to his dark, leather gloves. Tabris followed his brother's gaze and cursed himself. This was the source of his brother's torment. His mother had told him of the 'curse' that afflicted Kukuluth. It wasn't a curse at all, no more than his own, but his foolish sibling had never learned to control his gifts. He had ignored the dreams and covered his hands with leather to protect those around him.

He felt the urge to thump his brother soundly until he saw the truth, but Tabris knew that, like the Key his brother held, it would do him no good. He decided instead to follow his sibling's amazing example.

He caught his brother's wrists and held out the tightly clenched fists.

"I do know. Your abilities neither offend me nor change how I view you." He tugged at a glove, smiling as it began to slip from his brother's hand.

Before he could get it completely off, it was pulled out of his grip and the glove was fit back on.

"I won't remove them for Kasander, and I will not for you."

Something clicked in Tabris' mind.

"Kasander tried to remove your gloves?" Tabris questioned.

His brother nodded, putting his hands behind his back.

"He wanted me to touch him skin to skin, to have no barriers between us. But there are things that he wants that I cannot give him. With my denial, the seeds of hate have been planted this night. Fetim will do everything in his power to ensure that they grow within the boy's heart. It is only a brief time before he despises me as much as I despise myself. I will not have you despising me as well."

Tabris wanted to shake Kukuluth. There had been many denials in Kasander's life. There would be many more. It was the fate of a slave. The boy would not despise him for it. And it would take much more than his brother's touch to elicit such a reaction in himself. Kukuluth knew who Tabris was, and yet seemed to view him as he did other mortals.

It was time to destroy that notion.

Using speed gifted to him by his goddess mother, he grabbed his sibling's arm, pulled it forward and removed the offending leather.

Green eyes stared in surprise, but Kukuluth had enough wherewithal to attempt to get his hand back. Tabris refused to let go of his prize. Using all his strength he pulled the hand to his body until the warm skin touched the cooler skin of his stomach.

Kukuluth stood stunned.

"Did you actually think that a child of Delight would be unable to handle any torment that her husband has created? Have you forgotten your lessons so easily, Kukuluth?" He shifted the hand higher on his chest, revealing unmarred skin. "I am your greatest delight," he reminded his sibling in a whisper.

A crystalline tear slowly slid down Kukuluth's face. He pulled his ungloved hand from Tabris' grasp and fell to his knees.

Tabris quickly followed him to the floor and pulled the unresisting body into his arms. He held his brother's larger form against his own until the worst of the sobs were past, then he lifted Kukuluth from the floor, placed him upon the altar, and joined him there.

He felt the warmth of his parent surround him, and he pulled his sibling into his arms once more, kissing away the tears, and started on the years of loneliness and pain. The torment tore at him and he offered it up to his mother as a gift from her lover's son.

Raven watched as the pale forms, swathed in golden light, gently floated above the altar's hard surface. The altar glowed with an inner light that was swirled with impenetrable darkness. It hummed and chimed softly, reacting to the power of the godlings above it.

She clicked her beak and lifted herself to the heavens. Her Lord would be pleased. The balance within the Palace was still very off, but Torment's heir was already remedying the issue. Delight's seed was learning the true anguish of Torment, and perhaps he would finally be able to bring Torment's lost son back to the golden light of Delight.