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Chapter Text

He couldn't do it.

He wouldn't do it.

Katze stared again at the seemingly unassuming stack of clothing, if it could even be called that, carefully placed on his desk. His insides clenched and panic clawed at his control.


Katze was quite proud that his voice remained void of the turmoil he felt. He worked to school his features into some semblance of placidity, wondering if he was successful.

Iason was unnaturally perceptive after all.

Wether he realized the extent of the havoc his demand was creating in his employee or not, Iason remained unmoved.

" You will." His rich voice brooked no discussion and long hair swept the air in a graceful arc as he spun towards the door. "Now come."

And just like that, he walked out of Katze's darkened room. Expecting total obedience, the arrogant fucker.

Katze hesitated for a full ten seconds. What if he simply didn't follow? For a mad moment, Katze basked in imagined resistance. He could deal with the pain of Iason punishing him. The tall redhead had no illusions, he would pay dearly if he refused to be manipulated. Long fingers lightly traced the stiff tissue marring his left cheek.

The problem was that Iason was right. Katze's keen mind could see how the solution the Blondie proposed impeccably solved the problem. It was brilliant, logically.

It was too fucking bad that Katze's own dark demons didn't care for logic.

He was so screwed.

With a small desolate sigh, Katze turned to follow his master.

"Do not forget the disguise." Iason's voice resonated down the hallway.

Fucking omniscient Blondie.

Katze allowed himself to cringe at the slinky feel of silk caressing his palm as he trudged unusually heavily down the carpeted corridor.


The ride in the aircar to Iason's penthouse was deathly quiet.

Not that Iason particularly minded. Humans and their pathetic need to fill the silence with meaningless chatter were tiring. Iason had always appreciated his ex-furniture's habit of only speaking when he had something significant to say.

He rested easily on the soft seat, internally pondering the enigma that was Katze.

As the shifting lights of Midas colored the interior of the car in alternating streaks of artificial hues, Iason shifted a side gaze to the slim mongrel currently perched as far as he could from him on the seat.

Katze was normally very rational; today's resistance was unexpected. Obviously he could see the merits of Iason's plan, the Blondie had seen the flash of understanding in those strange eyes when he had outlined it. Almost immediately after, such a tumult of emotions had swirled in those depths that even Iason hadn't been capable of deciphering them all. Sadness, anger, shame, a hint of annoyance with wry amusement, maybe even hatred.

Long-lashed lids had swept down, preventing further indescretion.

The dealer had followed him though, and was now staring sullenly out the window. Almost motionless. Katze's control was impressive for a human.

But his lounging pose was too contracted, as though he was subconsciously trying to take up less space. Every muscle was coiled tight, base instinct to fight or flee activated. His fingers twitched minutely, and a pink tongue flicked out to wet pale parted lips.

With a sigh, Iason gestured graciously. "Light one of those disgusting inventions, if you must."

Katze's eyes studied the patrician profile beside him for a moment. The Blondie hated the smell of smoke, could never understand how both of his mongrels were addicted. Never before had he encouraged Katze to indulge, especially not in the closed confines of the car!

So... he hadn't been successful at hiding his emotions from Iason then.


No use pretending any longer, it seemed.

Opening the window fully, no need to aggravate the Blondie any more than necessary, the unhappy dealer relaxed minutely as he set the comforting smoke to his lips.

Both occupants of the car pretended not to notice how his hands shook so that he had to try twice before lighting it and finally inhaling the fragrant poison.

Warm summer wind whipping through the cab, the rest of the ride continued in tense silence.


Katze had wordlessly allowed himself to be led into Iason's opulent bathroom. Nodding at Cal, he had politely declined a bath and now stood stiffly under a scalding spray of water. Katze always made a point to be kind to Furniture, aknowledging their presence and answering them directly.

A kind of tacit nod to his prior status.

As steam curled around him, Katze allowed tense shoulders to droop.

Fuck but he hated himself. It was always there, had been there for so long the wound wasn't even acutely painful anymore. Just a bitter truth embedded at his core. His self-worth had been annihilated years ago during his training as Furniture.

Katze was proud of his work, of all he had gained in his years rebuilding the Ceres black market. He was respected, admired and feared.

But he had long given up hope of one day being actually proud of himself.

Roughly sweeping tense hands down his abdomen, he squeezed punishingly around his mutilated flesh. A sudden sob shook him, quickly suppressed.

Fuck no. He wasn't going to indulge in self-pity now.

Straightening, Katze washed himself with efficient control.

It was all Iason's fault, he thought. Ruthlessly opening deep wounds, ripping years of blanketing numbness from the ache of having his manhood destroyed, all with one nonchalant demand.

Enjoying the sharp sting of suds in his eyes, Katze fervently wished he could hate his boss. Except he was right, as usual, and Katze couldn't pretend not to know it.

Iason was selflessly putting himself in danger to destroy those offworld gangsters. Their crude attempt at seizing control of Pet traffic was pitiful. But too many of their attempts at hijacking transports had worked recently, as had their plan to hike prices by creating rarity. They had cost money, and ressources and were sufficiently bothersome that Jupiter wanted them gone.

Their gang leader, though, was a paranoid power-crazed lunatic. Unapproachable, never leaving his shielded ship headquarters.

The fact that he had grown brazen enough to invite Jupiter's Chosen to a private Pet party would be the end of him. There was the minor detail that no security at all would be allowed. The gall of the man, to think Iason would be stupid enough to attend under such ridiculous demands! And he was even more stupid if he thought the android was defenseless without a gaggle of guards.

Still, the First One going in by himself, and unarmed too, was tempting trouble. Limbs were itchy to grow back, not to mention the delays that would need to be allowed for recovery.

Stepping from the shower, Katze squared his shoulders. Cal bowed low, handing him a towel with averted eyes.

Katze shook the damp fringe from his eyes as he rubbed himself dry. He shouldn't be this upset that Iason wanted him to play the role of his Pet and attend the party with him.

Knotting the sash of the thick white robe too tightly, Katze sat on the stool Cal respectfully pulled out. He tried to breathe deeply, smiling softly at the tight bar of restriction around his lower ribs. Good. Being seated made the minor discomfort worse.

The red head lost himself in thought as Cal began brushing the knots from his hair.

Playing at being Iason's Pet.

Katze's stomach roiled at the thought. He should have laughed at the irony, but the hurt cut too deep. Years of unrequited love, of carefully contained yearning slowly stagnating to hopeless muck. Carefully erected walls smashed in one breathless second. As if Iason would ever care, would ever look on him with desire.

Proof of this was in the fact that his Master had brought him the garments of a female Pet. Further belittling his already broken plaything in a cruel parody of his deepest unnamed desires.

Closing his eyes briefly, Katze kept his face blank as Cal tugged at his hair, deftly wrapping strands around the heated iron. Nausea made him dizzy, and he swallowed thickly against bile that burned his throat at the thought of the evening to come.

Letting go of one perfectly bouncy curl, Cal started on another.

The Furniture gazed furtively at the white face in the mirror before him. Katze was soooo upset right then, his sharp features a blank mask that made Cal's heart twinge in sympathy.

Hands working busily to create lush waves in the dealer's soft hair, Cal ached for him. Katze's lips thinned and his jaw clenched, a light sheen appearing on his forehead. So much violent emotion that he swallowed down stubbornly.

"He... He's not doing it on purpose, you know." Cal spoke softly, hesitantly, with all the courtesy his position had imbued into his tone.

Katze's eyes flashed open, amber pits of heated hurt who's gaze the Furniture couldn't hold. A moment passed, the soft sizzle of auburn strands being heated into submission the only sound.

"Defending your Master, Cal?" Katze eventually responded with a sardonic twist of his lips.

The boy behind him blushed but his shoulders hunched stubbornly. "They don't know. The others. What it's like... What they do to us." Small fingers clutched at his tunic front for a second, the gesture surprisingly vulgar. Large blue eyes finally rose and held Katze's defiantly.

"To always be broken, not even allowed to enjoy pleasure like others. Even the lowliest mongrel in the slums is entitled to sexual release! And now... Master Iason wants you to pretend to be the absolute opposite...a pampered Pet."

Cal shuddered, going back to the work of impeccably coiffing the red head. "I don't think I could."

Katze's shoulders jerked in a sharp spasm and he coughed. How he wished for a cigarette then, to mask the bitter taste of self hatred. He didn't answer the servant. What use would it be to admit that he didn't think he could either?

The scarred man stoically remained in his seat, waiting patiently for Cal's gentle hands to finish their job.

In a bold move, small fingers squeezed Katze's shoulder hard, offering fleeting comfort before the door swished shut behind the Furniture.

Cal paused briefly, wincing at the harsh sound of retching as Katze vomited violently behind the privacy of the closed door. The servant was surprised to feel himself wanting to cry, since Katze clearly couldn't. With a sigh, he headed to the kitchen to see about preparing drinks.

There was comfort in knowing one's place, knowing what was expected.

Katze had made a new place for himself after he was pulled from his role as Furniture. Years of work. And now Iason was cruelly unrooting him again, even if it was for a night of pretending. Cal promised to take extra care brewing the dealer's favorite coffee the next time he came.

If there was a next time, Cal's mind whispered doubtfully.

Chapter Text

Katze was composed again when he ventured into the living room where his ex- Master waited. Padding soundlessly on naked feet, he stilled just outside the doorway. Pressing his forehead against the hard wall, he tried to brace himself for the experience to come. Despite a quiet moment of concentration, the human's hands were clammy with sweat and dread lumped in his throat.

Shit. His attempt at calm didn't help.

He found himself frozen anyway, halfway into the shadowy living room, caught in a cold blue gaze.

Gods but Iason was handsome, impossibly tall and strong. Katze's lonely heart twisted painfully in vague longing, quickly squashed.

The Blondie sprawled, long legs crossed and platinum mane falling about him, on a square white settee. His stupid hair glowed, even though the light was dim. He didn't say a word, one sculpted eyebrow rising at the sight of his mob boss in a fluffy robe.

Katze's steps faltered until he was motionless, trying to will himself to go forth and finding he couldn't. Despite the pep talk he had given himself, some deep instinct of self-preservation was preventing the castrate from tearing his fragile emotional balance to pieces. Fear cut slimy through him as Iason silently waited, grunting in annoyance when he failed to immediately dress in the chosen outfit.

It was a stand off.

A minute passed, maybe two.

An eternity.

Iason regarded him expectantly and Katze fidgeted, staring at the twinkling city lights to his left. So close, yet so far away; a living landscape framed behind the wall of windows.

He couldn't, he couldn't...

Even if his mind was coldly telling him to stop being such a baby, courage failed him. The nausea started to creep back, and the tall mongrel wondered idly if Blondies were physically capable of throwing up.

Jupiter, he needed to get a grip. It was just clothing. He had been around Pets enough when he was Furniture to know what behavior was expected from them. He wasn't actually becoming a Sex Toy. It was just pretending.

Just faking it.

It would never be real for Katze. Could never be real.

A loud banging cracked through the silent apartment, followed by an energetic blur of movement that was Ricki strutting in.

" You would not believe what that idiot in Midas tried to do!" Ricki exclaimed, throwing his leather jacket onto the couch: his words trailed off as he took in the tense atmosphere in the room.

"Okay, what the fuck is wrong here?" The dark-haired mongrel's eyebrows scrunched up in worry. It was quite endearing, Iason thought fondly.

A few more seconds of quietly analyzing the scene and he rushed to Katze.

"Man, what happened?" Dark eyes slid over the mostly naked dealer, searching for a wound.

Glaring suspiciously at the seated Blondie, he adressed Katze again. "What did he do now?"

"Ricki -" Iason's displeased growl was cut off by Katze's soft voice answering.

"It's fine. Don't worry. Just an... unsavory... mission I have to complete."

Ricki was clearly not placated. Crossing his arms, he went so far as to tap his booted toes impatiently.

" Someone better explain. Because you..." he poked Katze in the arm, "are pretty much freaking the fuck out and I have never seen that before. And it's fucking worrying is what it is."

"Language, Ricki, language..." Iason chided.

The Blondie continued primly " I merely proposed a solution to the issue of going unguarded into the pirate's domain. He..." Iason indicated Katze with a dainty sniff of his straight nose. "Is being difficult."

Ricki snorted, obviously not impressed by Iason's attitude.

"And how does Iason mean for you to do that? Do you have to eat your own kid or something?" he asked Katze. Clearly he hadn't thought the impossibility of that statement through, but the sentiment was clear.

The red-head floundered, finally admitting with a wince "He wants me to be his Pet for the evening."

Which, frankly, was just plain awkward.

How did you tell Iason's Pet,to his face, that you didn't want to be Iason's Pet?

Watching Ricki's mobile features close down, Katze knew that, of course, he had taken it the wrong way. Great.

"Well now, how terrible for you..." Ricki's tone dripped venom. "No wonder you look like you're going to puke!"

He tugged on one of the ringlets framing Katze's cheekbone. Hard.

" At least it explains this!"

Dark fingers glided down the exposed skin over Katze's sternum. "And why you're wearing my bathro-ugh. Ow. Fuck Katze, let go."

Impertinent fingers had slid into the robe, aiming for a hidden nipple. Suddenly, Ricki found himself bent in half, trying to accomodate a wrist neatly twisted at an unnatural angle.

"Ow, Damn it." Ricki wriggled ineffectively, trying to decide if it was worth getting his ass pounded for a few good punches. It would be most satisfying to feel his fist colliding with Katze's annoyingly hard flesh. If he put his mind to it, Ricki was truly talented at close combat. It was just that Iason would surely intervene and the punishment in the bedroom would certainly take far longer than the brawl.

Just as he was deciding to risk it and swing, Katze abruptly shoved him away. With quiet dignity, he bowed deeply.

"Forgive me, Ricki. I didn't mean offense."

"Like fuck you didn't!" Ricki countered hotly, rubbing his wrist. "How awful to be me! Fuck you, Katze, I... Just... fuck you."

It wasn't very imaginative but at the moment Ricki was too worked up to invent a more colorful insult. Ricki had made an uneasy sort of peace with his Pet status, but this disdain... it hurt, surprisingly so. Especially coming from a man he knew and trusted, even viewed as a friend.

"No!" Katze's melodious voice was strained. "Ricki, no! You got it all wrong! I didn't... What I meant was... I would love to be you. Truthfully."

Ricki's dark eyes flicked up to Katze's face in anger, expecting to find mocking there. Instead, he saw pure unguarded earnestness. A bitter retort died on his tongue and he waited in silence for the dealer to continue.

"I can't... Ricki, I'm not like you. I will never be!"

On the couch, Iason listened intently.

"You're so beautiful Ricki. So vibrant and passionate and alive. So hot, smoking sexy hot... Iason wants you, Ricki. He wants you enough to destroy us all for you." Katze's soft voice trembled as the words poured out, uncensored.

He snorted loudly. "Not me though. I'm just a toy. A joke. I'm... Broken."

Katze's voice cracked then; he finished in a whisper. "Noone wants me... No one has ever wanted me like that. Ever."

His slim throat bobbed as he swallowed visibly.

"It doesn't bother me, usually."

Getting angry at the dawning pity in Ricki's expression, Katze bristled. " No, stop, it's not like that. I have my work, and I'm independant. I'm not a servant anymore. Don't be sorry for me, Rick. I have a lot more than most. I don't need intimacy. It's just... This touches an old old issue. I was... hurt, and degraded, just for the fun of it."

Citrine eyes grew far away, Katze's memories of his past closing him in. Straight white teeth sank into his bottom lip and Ricki felt a kind of morbid curiosity. He vaguely recalled rumors of how Katze had been stripped and beaten by a gang of punks when he was returning from the market in his early days as Furniture. Maybe violated even worse. It was also said those same men had been the first to die when Katze started in the black market. Apparently their pained shouts had echoed for days.

A warning.

A revenge.

Katze shook himself, focusing on his current predicament and meekly finishing his tirade. "Anyway, I'm sorry but I can't deal... I can't tolerate being humiliated once more. Even in jest. I just can't... I'm trying, but... I'm sorry... I made a mess of it all."

"Oh Katze..." Ricki's voice was gentle, like one might use to tame a small animal. It made the dealer smile wryly. He hadn't even known Ricki was capable of such warmth; usually his tone was hard and sarcastic, comments barked angrily.

"You're not ugly... Really. You're beautiful." Ricki looked helplessly to Iason, who's face was a strange mixture of understanding and annoyance.

A quick evaluation immediately made it clear in Ricki's mind that he needed to intervene if he hoped for any kind of happy ending. Iason might understand Katze's plight, thick oaf that he was, but he was still haughty and cold. And it was unlikely he would retract his demand for something like petty human emotions.

Poor Katze was too intimidated by his Master to really refuse, yet obviously too fragile to continue unaided. He would flay himself alive rather than let Iason down, damn martyr complex.

Proud asses, both of them.

It was up to Ricki the Dark to save the situation.

As usual.

And if it involved mind blowing sex, well... what an interesting fringe benefit.

Chapter Text

Decided, Riki prowled closer to Katze. The dealer watched him approach with narrowed eyes, resigned nervousness making his jaw clench.

On the couch, Iason was suddenly paying much more attention: he recognized that look on his Pet's face! It usually meant some new game, mischief of the sort that would require strict retribution.

In the bedroom.

For hours on end.

Until they both collapsed in exhausted pleasure.


Thus far, Iason had only thought of Katze dressing the part of a Pet. Katze was... Katze. Devoted. Dependable. Asexual. Iason had never even really considered him a man. He was just... Katze.

Clearly, Riki had plans to change that perception.

He was currently leaning waaayy into Katze's personal space.

Not really touching, not yet.

But close enough that Katze could feel the heat radiating from the other male. Riki's scent of spice and stout was enticing up close. Katze couldn't help dragging another lungful in, savoring it.

Warm breath washed over his scar, as Riki leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"You are so hot, Katze. I can't believe you don't know it." Riki's nose nudged into fragrant auburn strands. "I'm going to show you."

Jupiter, he had certainly never adressed Katze in such a way, with sultry roughness filtering into his voice like a dirty promise.

Riki was panting wetly along Katze's neck and it was making the fine hairs at his nape stand up. The dealer couldn't decide if the lust was for show, or if it was genuine. He held himself stock still, trying not to shiver. Damn.

"You smell amazing..." Riki echoed Katze's own thoughts. His continued presence -too close and yet not close enough- was straining at Katze's nerves.

He felt vulnerable in his half-undressed state. A good suit with ample layers created an impression of strength, of bulk he was sorely lacking. And the curly hair-do was annoying. Katze was used to hiding his destroyed face with a fall of bangs. Having his hair all twisted about made it almost impossible, adding to the queasy feel in his gut.

Iason could see how tense the red-head was, and he wondered if Riki might get kneed in the balls for pushing him. Unless he got kissed out of his mind. The cards were still in the air at the moment, but it wouldn't be much longer.

Something- someone- had to break.

Iason recognized the first heavy pooling of desire deep in his belly, and frowned. Well. His dick was clearly rooting for the humans to take this further.

"God." Riki's voice cracked and suddenly his eyes shifted to the side, staring straight into Iason's. The Blondie inhaled sharply, since moaning would have been undignified. His Pet was aroused. Oh yeah, there was no doubt about it. Fire burned in his heavy-lidded gaze and settled straight into Iason's cock.

Mmmmm. Iason didn't usually like his lover playing with someone else.

But this was Katze. He was... Non threatening, Iason realized. And Riki so obviously craved more...

An excited thrill slithered down Iason's spine. Riki, out of his stubborn mind with lust... Iason could afford to be generous tonight. Anything for Riki.

"I want you." The seductive whispers continued. One of Riki's hands rose, hovering close to Katze's hip, not quite touching. It trembled a bit, before balling into a fist and being brought back to Riki's side.

"Please let me..." he trailed off, ghosting his lips along the alabaster column of Katze's neck.

Katze swallowed thickly.

Fuck, he wanted to believe, needed to believe. He wouldn't be able to bear it if this was just one of Ricki's sick games. It wasn't a game to Katze.

Too much was at stake.

His last shred of doubt was torn when Riki jerked backwards and let the dealer read him. Rumor had it the eyes were the window to the soul. Riki allowed the dealer to dive deep. Deep behind his usual sarcastic front, behind the angry walls he kept. Forced himself to hold his gazed, unguarded. It made him want to squirm, survival instinct from the slums roaring at him to protect the fragile spots inside. Katze understood the gift Riki was giving him, opening up like that. The moment was sacred, too intimate; connection shimmered bright between them. Katze broke it with a gasp when he couldn't bear it anymore, turning his head to the side.

Iason couldn't see Riki's expression, but whatever fascinated Katze there was enough.

Riki wasn't faking.

Katze gulped, blood still rushing in his head, a sound like water in his ears.


Yes, he wanted this. Wanted to destroy status quo, the familiar distance that protected him. So alone. Sooooo alone for soooooo long.

Katze decided he would play along today. Gods, he hoped his mangled heart survived the ride.

Dark curls brushed a pale cheek as Riki whispered, hardly more than a caress of air. "We'll make him want you too. Drive him fucking crazy..." Katze jerked at the comment. Was he really that transparent? Riki's voice was low enough that a normal human wouldn't have heard it from across the room.

But Iason wasn't a normal human.

His enhanced ears caught his Pet's breathless chuckle and filthy promise. "Man, I can't wait."

And then, fucking finally, they were kissing.Gloriously deep and wet, unrestrained.

Iason shifted on the couch. Two imperfect mongrels, tangled in a kiss. It shouldn't have affected him as much as it did.

They were visually striking, that was for sure. The aesthetic contrast of light and dark, short and tall, willowy thin and stocky with muscle: it was certainly most pleasing to the eye. They were really getting into it, writhing together with their eyes firmly closed. One of them was making little mewling sounds that blended into the slurps and rough exhales.

Still. Iason shouldn't have been fully distended yet, uncomfortable in his fine pants; so far he had languished mostly forgotten on the couch, untouched. Rather unacceptable, that. Tossing his head, the Blondie refused to adjust himself out of stubborn annoyance. Riki was winning this round, but Iason would not concede defeat.

Stealing himself, Iason unfolded gracefully from his seated position. The pressure in his groin intensified into pain, then diminished as the unpleasant sensation dominated the erection reflex. Good.

The soft swish of Iason's clothing as he walked to the bar reminded the humans of his presence. With a cough and a thump, they seperated. He could feel them looking at his broad back as he unhurriedly poured three tumblers of fine brandy.

Katze watched him return, wary and with a defensive twist to his thin lips. Riki, incorrigible, stared him down with open interest. Cocky bastard never learned. It was at once one of his greatest qualities and the cause of much of his Master's frustration.

Prefering not to spook Katze into unresponsiveness, the tall Blondie merely handed both men their glasses. Up close, his precise nose could smell the hunger in the air. Mostly Riki's familiar blend of musk and sweat and deodorant, but Iason thought he detected a new scent. Something crisp and cool. Delicate. Like a fine white wine, peaches and pears. With a hint of something citrus, lime perhaps?


As Iason turned to move back to the sofa, of course Riki would step directly into his path with sparkling challenge in his naughty brown eyes.

It was entirely his fault if in the next second he was crushed to a hard body, yanked up onto his toes. Iason's dick throbbed at the contact, and he plundered Riki's gasping mouth possessively.


Pushing him away, Iason would have felt slightly silly for the posturing. Except Katze held his gaze seriously, and bowed respectfully.

Riki was Iason's.

He knew that.

They all did. Even if Riki sometimes claimed to forget.

Master and Pet were exclusive in their relationship. Except...

It seemed the Blondie would let them play anyway.

For the first time in his life, Katze actually looked forward to sexual interactions.


It was a night for firsts then.

Chapter Text

Riki shook his head when Iason dropped him unceremoniously, trying to unscramble his thoughts. His ears were burning, and he could still taste the alcool on Iason's smooth tongue.


With one kiss, the Master had reduced his Pet to a throbbing mess of want. Riki hated it, with fierce intensity. Hated Iason's effortless hold over him.

Riki curled his toes in his boots, then consciously relaxed them.


Clench... Stretch...

It was a silly trick, a child's game to focus the mind on something other than the urge to sink to the floor at Iason's feet. Slow tight clench.



It helped the tripping thud of his heartbeat.

A bit.

If only it were so easy as that. In truth, Riki couldn't hate Iason, no matter how he tried. What Riki hated was how his body responded to the Blondie's touch.

The ultimate betrayal.

Riki's body lusted and burned for the Blondie. Iason effortlessly created sensations so intense that any other thought imploded. Riki hated the loss of composure passionately, and craved it just as fiercely.

Riki rarely ever felt calm. The fire of passion that defined him smoldered inside his belly, always. It was so hard sometimes to hold onto his temper, to quiet the need to shout at the double moons of Eos. Back in the slums, Riki used stout and bike races to quell the ardent urges that itched just under his skin. It helped.

A bit.

With Iason though... It had taken years to reach the point where Riki could admit, in the silence of his heart, that Iason actually helped with the jittery rage. The jagged spikes of passion that twisted uncomfortably inside Riki could, under Iason's patient guidance, bloom into the rarest flower of surrender.

The things Iason did to him...

Unlike anything or anyone else Riki the Dark had ever encountered, Iason Mink outmatched him. He overpowered Riki; in stubborness, in intelligence, in arrogance, in physical strength. Iason had etched this truth into Riki's trembling flesh, time and again.

And that simple fact ignited Riki's rebellious need to constantly challenge authority. The inevitable surrender after hours of giving it his all was an addictive rush, a sparkling shower of relief.

With patient determination, Iason had broken Riki's walls.

Then battered them down when he had rebuilt them.

And done so again.

And again.

And again, and again,


Riki sighed.

Sure, there was more to the Blondie. Riki had seen the passion, those rare times when Iason had slipped. Riki had also glimpsed emotions and attachment that grew where they were never designed to. Could guess at certain weaknesses Iason possessed. Their relationship burned right through to the core... for both of them; Pet knew his Master just as much as the opposite.

Still, the Elite was at the top of the food chain. He knew it. Riki knew it -even if he wouldn't admit it, and instinct still had him putting up a fight usually.

Iason had proved that resistance was futile. Fun, sometimes; desperate at others. But always, in the end, useless.

Iason played Riki achingly perfectly.

Until the chatter in his head stopped.

Until the physical torment silenced the shame that still lingered in the corners of his mind.

Until redhot flared so bright it washed out into radiant white.

Until he sobbed and begged.

Until he forgot to be Riki the Dark and simply was...

Iason's Pet.


The Blondie's grin was positively feral as he watched his Pet struggle for control. His gloved fingers lingered a bit under Riki's chin, feeling the tiny movements of his teeth grinding.


Riki still fought him.

Iason fervently hoped he always would. Such a fierce little bomb, so much agression coiled tight. So much more stimulating to break than the vapid Academy bred Pets. Iason did not need someone who lived solely to please him. The entire planet brimmed with variations of this theme for the Chosen First One.

It was refreshing to be challenged. The novelty of it had been enough to hook him at first. And now, after years of careful grooming, there was so much more to Riki that fascinated Iason.

More depth, more beauty.

More personality.

More love.

Iason refused to embark on this dangerous train of thought at the moment. He blinked, made himself fully let go of his Riki.

Riki dared to raise his eyes again after Iason swooped away.

His breathing was all shaky and it was annoying.

He could tell how close Iason had been to diciplining him moments ago.

Tonight was not about him.

Not yet anyway.

Now was for Katze.


The dealer had watched the exchange with narrowed eyed. Who knew what he'd thought of it! Concentrating fully on the red-head helped Riki suppress the intensity that brewed between himself and Iason.

It was different with Katze. Different and yet... This budding thing with Katze was a slippery slope too.

Riki had often appreciated, in a rather idle fashion, the unusual beauty that Katze possessed.

And now, in their short kisses, Riki had felt how easy it would be to slide into total decadence. There was a carefully contained fire in Katze too. Riki had nearly touched it, simmering just below the surface. A cry for total possession, for raw uninhibited passion. Riki wanted to break Katze.

In a good way.

Fracture the veneer of impassivity and reassemble the pieces.

It brought a head rush, this feeling of... Possibility. Potential. If only he could get Katze to let go.

At the moment, Katze still clung to calm self assurance, but Riki knew better.

He had felt the energy crackling between them, the shudders that the red-headed tried to contain. The barely-there curling of slim hips, an instinctive search for friction. The quiver in his breath, and how he fisted his hands into the fabric of Riki's t-shirt. A careful touch here, a sensitive spot there...

Riki wanted to learn just where to push to make Katze scream in ecstasy. Was this how Iason felt about him? he realized in a rush of curiosity.

One thing was sure, Katze was out of his depth.

So many years without...

Riki had never heard of Katze taking any sexual partners.

Surely he wasn't a virgin?

As his blood steadied a bit, Riki's thoughts turned practical. Katze was ex Furniture, a castrate. But how exactly did that work? Did he have no testicules? No penis? If he still had the organ, could he have an erection? An orgasm? So many questions...

Riki's inquisitive mind loved a good mystery!

He intended to answer them all before the night was over. Should he just wait and find out?

Watching Katze's slim fingers carefully pulling a strand of red down over his cheek, Riki decided that honesty was his best bet.

Downing the brandy in a fiery gulp, he croaked a bit at the burn of the liquid in his throat.


Wiping his mouth roughly with the back of his hand, he blinked hard. Watery vision revealed that Katze had barely touched his lips to the liquor, afraid to set the nausea off again.

Right, then.

Enough waiting.

Grabbing both their glasses, Riki hurried to place them on the end-table near where Iason sat. He couldn't resist petting a soft strand of blond that spilled over the side of the sofa.

The sound Iason made was not exactly a growl, but it came close. Like a big lazy cat waiting to pounce, the Blondie observed Riki. Iason regarded his Pet intensely, face unreadable, then lifted his own drink.

Content to let him lead. This was Riki's game.

For now.

Amber liquid caught the light in thick crystal as the Blondie swirled it slowly, visually appreciating the clinging film of alcool that licked at the inside of the glass.

Riki smiled for him then, a full blown curl of lips that even flashed white teeth.

Innocent gratefulness and genuine happiness.

Iason's plastic heart impossibly stumbled in his synthetic chest.

"So.." Riki ambled back to Katze, who was frowning at him.

Three sets of eyes watched dark hands trail down the collar of the robe, lazily meandering to the tight knot holding it shut.

"How does this work then?" Riki's voice had grown gravelly again, fuck it.

Katze simply blinked at him, rather dazed.

Riki's index lightly traced the contours of the knot, swirls of fabric pulled tight. Katze huffed air through his nose, alarmingly aware of Iason on the couch. Anxiety and longing twisted inside him, an unstable roll of emotion. His abs jumped at the proximity of Riki's hand.

Letting the knot be for now, Riki slipped his palm flat under the robe, carefully baring a pale shoulder. He chewed on his lip, tamping down impatience.

Katze needed slow.

The smaller mongrel stepped closer again, revelling in the tension that immediately sang between Katze and himself. Fuck but his dick was already hard, a stiff line pressing uncomfortably against his jeans.

Unable to resist, Riki dragged his pink tongue on the ivory expanse of skin he'd revealed. Growing bolder, he licked and kissed all over that shoulder, nipping his way to the base of Katze's neck. The taller man slowly melted into the caress, his posture slumping a bit. Riki worried at a bumpy knot of bone with his nose, then kissed it better. Broken clavicule, healed crooked.

Reaching the inviting stretch of Katze's throat, Riki couldn't help sinking his teeth in. Not enough to hurt, but a firm bite that drew a soft moan. Katze arched into it, his hands rising to cling to Riki's biceps.

Sucking on sweet skin, Riki swirled his tongue, tracing random patterns on fiery nerve endings.

Licking up Katze's jaw, Riki nibbled along the firm edge.No stubble, no beard; only soft skin pulled tight over hard bone. When his lips moved up though, Katze yanked back with a gasp.

His fingers cupped protectively over puckered skin, hiding the scar from view.

Oh yeah.


Riki decided it was time for distraction, pushing both sides of the fabric robe down decisively. After a brief hesitation, Katze obediently pulled his arms out of the sleeves. Gloriously naked from the waist up, he quivered under Riki's hungry gaze.

"Hhmmm. Beautiful."

Riki repeated his earlier words, but Katze wasn't really sure he was even aware he spoke aloud.

"Indeed." Iason's deep voice made them both jump.

He evaluated Katze's physique critically. "Rather frail, do you not partake in sufficient nourishment?"

He continued speaking over Katze's incoherent stammering. "Neverless, it is quite pleasing; it creates a somewhat ethereal quality." Now Katze blushed furiously, twisting his hands into the loose panels of the robe bunched at his waist.

Riki rolled his eyes, unimpressed.

Iason and his flowery speach...

It was just that they had grown used to the broad shouldered silhouette Katze's voluminous suits imposed. No need to be so... analytical... about seeing the dealer naked.

Finally tugging the belt loose, Riki ran his hands down the harsh red indent in Katze's skin. Knotted too tight, he observed. Had to have been uncomfortable.

Riki's hands were warm, soothing as they circled along his sides, Katze noticed. His face was still flushed, he knew. Having two gorgeous males appreciating his much-ignored form was unsettling to say the least. Katze could feel the heat in his cheeks, silently cursing his fair complexion.

He stood in his underwear, plain white boxer briefs. On display and not really sure he liked it, yet faking confidence seemed like his only option at the moment.

Riki's gaze ate him up. Tight nipples called, as did those defined abs. Riki's eyes moved down. Started at a knobby knee and followed up muscular thighs, then tried to pierce through tight underwear.

Katze expected the comment, could see the curiosity written all over Riki's face. Yet he still had to give the guy credit for his honest style as he asked "So, man, what do I have to work with here? Do you, like, have... no dick? Cause I can totally lick your ass, bro. No problem."

Iason snorted. Only Riki would phrase such a delicate question like that.

Katze blushed even more, but his voice was steady when he answered. " I have a cock, Riki. Just..." his voice grew a bit strained as he warned. "It's not really, you know, something to be proud of." He held his fingers a couple inches apart to illustrate his point, chin jutting in angry defiance. As if Riki would laugh at him...

He didn't.

The mongrel's gaze darkened and he dropped to his knees with the practiced ease only a Pet could possess. Eyes closed, Riki pressed his face into Katze's crotch, breathing warm air through the thin cloth. It was a strange sensation, reminiscent of pissing himself, and Katze shifted his weight uncertainly from one foot to the other.

"Wanna suck it..." Riki slurred, licking a shivery stripe under Katze's navel.

Katze couldn't help but groan at that, hips rolling forward. Yes. A fierce pit of wanting opened in Katze's middle.


Katze pressed his lips tightly together to hold the words back.

Please, yes.

Riki's hands were rough as they hooked into the waistband of Katze's boxers and yanked them down. He stared avidly, greedily. The soft pink curve of Katze's penis called him. It was a bit strange not to have hanging balls behind, but it was not unpleasant. It had been neatly done, the incision scar hardly visible... Unlike the one on his face.

"Gorgeous." Riki clarified, breathless with a rush of desire.

Such wide brown eyes staring up at him forced Katze to swallow another moan. Sooooo many sinful promises simmered there...Katze wondered if it was Pet training or if Riki had always possessed that decadent gaze.

"Will it get hard if I suck you?" He asked.

Katze had to exhale sharply, grab another deep breath, before he could answer. His skin felt too tight, his face flaming again.

"Maybe." Clearing his throat, Katze made himself articulate precisely. "I... I can get an erection, sometimes. It's a lot of work, usually I just don't bother."

"Oh my God, can you cum? Tell me you can cum!" Riki's stricken expression was morphing into anger, like he would personally take a knife to the medtechs who had done the procedure on his friend.

A flustered Katze was spared answering by Iason.

"Removal of the testes will induce a significant drop in testosterone levels. Side effects would include stunted puberty, little to no pilosity, a higher voice register, reduced libido and of course an under-developped penis."

The clinical explanation continued, and Katze wasn't sure if being described like an experiment was better, or worse, than having to explain it himself.

"Theoretically, orgasm is possible though obviously there would be no semen. The feelings of pleasure can be induced mentally, and through prostate stimulation. So yes, my Pet, it is probable Katze is capable of orgasm."

Iason sounded smugly satisfied, settling more comfortably into the couch.

Riki shook his head, laughter glinting in his eyes. He rolled his eyes, hidden from Iason's view, and Katze's embarassement fluttered away. Blondies...

"Thanks. Now can I suck it?" Riki's tone was just this side of impertinent and Iason's gloved hand clenched the armrest hard enough to make it creak.

Discipline would be needed. Again.


His Master's answer stilled Riki inches from his prize. Katze chewed on his lower lip, trying to subdue the frustration of being denied. He reflexively rose his eyes to the annoying Blondie.

Iason did not seem any happier than Katze to stop the blowjob. His eyes glinted coldly and there was a frown line between his perfect eyebrows.

" There is no time for prolonged play before the party. Katze needs to get dressed."

Iason added, a tad too hastily, "We can pursue this later, when we return."

Riki groaned, and Katze resigned himself to waiting.

Damn. He kinda wondered if he really could orgasm from Riki's ministrations. Katze couldn't remember ever reaching the sexual peak. But he had not been very motivated to try long enough by himself. And he did not trust others enough to let them try, not since getting assaulted.

The high-pitched yelped that escaped Katze was easy to excuse. Riki had suddenly darted forward and swallowed his dick after all. A single wet swoop, all the way to the base, followed almost instantly by the contrast of cold air as Riki pushed himself up.

"Sorry. Couldn't help myself." Riki's mutter really didn't sound apologetic.

"There will be consequences for disobedience of a direct order." Iason didn't even seem angry.

"Yes, Sir." Riki's head bowed, properly submissive, and Iason's dick twitched.

"There is no time now, Riki. As you well know." His tone indicated that the Blondie fully knew his Pet was goading him on purpose.

"Yes, Sir. I will wait." Riki shivered in anticipation, and Iason let the subject drop. For now.

Katze had gotten goosebumps from all the implications of that exchange. The thrill of forbidden, the darker aspects of Pet play glimmered just out of sight.


Riki's stride was awkward as he fetched the small pile of lingerie from a side table. He could practically feel the cuffs biting into his wrists, imagined he could hear Iason's dispassionate voice whispering, feel that massive penis splitting him in two. The erratic lurch of shame and arousal made his cock rigid and walking was uncomfortable.

"Remove your shirt."

Riki obeyed the order smoothly, Pet training obvious in his languid grace.

Iason was toying with him, Riki could hear the domination in his voice. His Master was aroused. Riki longed to drop to his knees, wanted to choke himself trying to pleasure his Master. The relief of not-thinking beckoned. It would be so easy. Just...


Iason watched Riki's back ripple as golden skin appeared. His Pet was in a compliant mood now. It was a pleasant surprise, one he wanted to take advantage of. The Blondie was tempted to have him strip fully, but the enthusiastic throb in his groin forced him to refrain. Two lovely naked humans at his disposal would prove too much to resist and there was still work to do.


Oh, indeed.


Iason knew how to be patient.

Chapter Text

Somehow, none of the men had imagined that Riki dressing Katze would be so intensely sexual. It did not seem logical that doing the exact opposite of what normally preceded intercourse would painfully arouse all of them.

Yet it did.

Riki knelt at Katze's feet, still troubled by Iason in the corner. He began by sliding regulation Pet panties up Katze's legs. Katze grabbed at them somewhere around mid-thigh and tugged them into place with altogether too much haste to be seductive.

The snug grip of fabric was reassuring. Katze breathed softly, something deep and anxious inside unknotting when he was properly covered.

Riki frowned at Katze radiating self-consciousness. He proceeded to compliment him profusely on how the sheer black fabric made his ass appear truly phenomenal. Katze's lips twitched at Riki's exclamations before settling into a tiny smile. The dealer knew he was too slender to have any sort of real booty, yet even his bony ass was indeed deliciously framed by the hi-cut G-string. Whoever designed Pet garments knew their thing!

Riki rose heavily, then straightened with a quick shake, torso gleaming in the low light. His dark jeans pulled tight over his own butt as he instructed Katze on how to wiggle enticingly. Katze played along, imitating Riki's sinuous moves as best he could. Getting into it, the two mongrels giggled. It was rather fun, this friendly ass-shaking lesson, in a sarcastic, tongue-in-cheek way.

Although there was no way in hell Katze would slap his own ass.

Even if he could sorta see the appeal of Riki doing it.

Hell no.

Iason was amused when Riki bent in half, demonstrating proper Pet display techniques that he normally vehemently refused to take.

Show off.

Katze blushed prettily, but he proved quite flexible. All the martial arts training he'd done gave him the balance and self awareness to hold the pose easily.

Hhhhmmmm. There was something about Katze when he did it... Riki was too compact, or maybe not flexible enough, for the position to really work for him.

The taller mongrel though...

Infinite legs spread in an enticing V.

The soft curl of fingers around his ankle.

Auburn hair falling haphazardly over his pointed face.

He would be just the perfect height for Iason to tug that dark strip of panty aside and sink right in. The Blondie idly wondered what kind of sound would tear from the so-far-untouched human at the intrusion.


Iason shook the hair out of his face irritably; his body was betraying him again, painfully aroused from visual stimulation only. There was no doubt Riki had achieved his objective. Iason was having sexual thoughts towards his ex Furniture. In fact, he was having a hell of a time restraining himself.

"Lick him."

Riki froze at the order.

It wasn't that he was opposed to licking Katze.

It was just that he didn't know where he was supposed to lick; fucking Iason was in full-on top mode and Riki was going to get punished if he didn't mind-read Iason's exact desires but he couldn't really be expected to just, like, know, right...

Lick him... Should he just dive for that luscious ass? What if Iason wanted a slow tease?

It made no difference for a Pet, did it, what was possible and what wasn't? His master's cold voice had warned, he'd commanded and Riki was keeping him waiting ohfuck. Adrenaline spiked, heady. Riki panicked, mind blurring; lick him, wheeeerreee? no good answer, fuck he was so going to pay for the hesitation and man, at the same time he wanted to get punished, throbbed for it.

The couch creaking was Riki's only warning Iason had moved.

Unthinkably fast, he joined the humans. One second he was sitting, and the next his fingers were yanking Riki's head back by the hair hard enough he could feel the strain in his throat.

"I said lick him." A quiet order... Repeated, fuck. Always, Iason's voice remained calm and composed. Always.

It turned Riki's insides to liquid.

Iason's tongue snaked out, a wet line right up his Pet's face.

Primal. Paradoxical, considering Iason never lost his refined air.


Not meant to be pleasant.

Riki didn't even flinch, fingers twitching at his sides as he dangled from Iason's grip.


Nonchalantly, Iason threw him to the floor. Riki went easy, crumbling into a heap. Relief flushed through him now that he knew what the order implied. Start low.

The burn at his scalp slowly diffused into a spreading heat as Riki pressed his tongue to the tendon behind Katze's ankle. Riki wouldn't look into Katze's upside-down eyes, so close-right there and instead focused on following his Master's command.

Saliva sparkled softly as Riki nibbled his way up a taut calf. He laved enthusiastically at the dips behind Katze's knee, causing a sharp flexing spasm, quickly straightened.

Gods, Katze's skin was soft. Almost totally hairless. Riki could feel the stretched fibers of muscle sliding under it, barely quivering with the strain of holding the position. Or maybe in response to Riki's tongue, who knew?

By the time he was biting softly at that spot where thigh swerved into ass, Riki had really gotten into it.

Lick him.

Riki's whole universe had pinholed down to filling the order. His own need was reduced to a dull ache, to be satisfied only at Iason's bidding.

Which was why Riki totally did not squeak when Iason hauled him up again by the hair.

He melted immediately, limply smashed with his back to Iason's front.

Pleasingly pliant.

How long it had taken Iason to reach this point!

At the Blondie's scent that slammed into his sinuses, Riki's knees weakened instinctively. His head rolled back, resting heavy on Iason's hard chest. Bracketed by the soft fabric of his Master's clothing, Riki tried not to squirm. He could feel the thumping resonnance of Iason's heartbeat through his back.

"Spread him for me." the Blondie whispered.

Iason's chin pressed into Riki's shoulder as he leaned them over, hair swishing as it fell forward.

Mother fuck, Riki's hands were shaking again.

Slowly, carefully, he touched the cool skin of Katze's ass. Hot greedy fingers dug into the flesh, kneading a bit.

Iason stared intensely, expression carefully impassive. Calm and composed. Always.

Face burning hot, and not only from his upside down position, Katze felt Riki get a firm grip and tug his ass cheeks apart.


So exposed.

Katze felt vulnerable. He sould have been ashamed, but he... wasn't. The couple who played with him was not embarassed. They were not disgusted. Katze had no doubt the act was not meant to degrade him. He could feel their appreciation of the sight and it melted the frozen knot of shame to fleeing silver rivulets, quickly sucked up by the greedy ground of arousal

Riki made a frustrated little noise. Damn panties were in the way!

Katze had to bite his lip at the sharp tension of the panties being pulled up and to the side.

Fabric cut into his thigh crease, and wetness seeped from his soft dick-head at the almost-friction.

Riki hardly dared to breathe, baring Katze's hole to Iason's hungry gaze.

Small and pink, it twitched.

Iason growled softly,and his hands on Riki's hips tightened. Holding his pet in place, Iason firmly pressed his erection against Riki's lower back. It would have been quite lovely if he could grind against his ass, but it was impossible. Even if they had both been naked the height difference was just too great.

And anyway, Iason wasn't grinding.

In fact, he was carefully containing the tiny hitches of his pelvis.

A Blondie did not rut like a vulgar Pet.

Mercifully, Riki had no such qualms. Wriggly thing.

Breathing choppy, Riki's brown hands closed together, hiding Katze's hole. Then spread, far -further- thumbs pressing in and up. Trying to stretch Katze without actually sticking a finger in.

Trying to imagine Iason's giant dick sinking in.


The garbled scrap of sound that caught in Riki's throat tore through Katze, slicing like a hot knife. Fuck fuck fuck.

Iason's white-gloved hand reached around Riki and landed high on the rounded top of Katze's ass. Just rested there, heavy and present.

Now it was Katze's breath that hitched.

Time suspended it seemed; ballooned into a swollen distorsion of anticipation. Seconds, or maybe years later, who the fuck knew, Iason pulled back.

His hand moved to grope decisively at Riki's crotch, feeling for the push-back of his Pet's hard on. The moan that sounded then was pure unfiltered pleasure. Riki couldn't help twisting under his Master's touch. Iason kneaded his cock through his pants, long fingers squeezing just right.

Fuck yes, he could come. Just like this, caught between his hungry Blondie and a trembling, upside-down Katze.

Which, of course, wasn't happening. Riki knew it, he knew it, but he couldn't help the almost-snarl when Iason pulled away.


Dream state cracked open, Katze unfolded back to a standing position.

It was fine, for him, Riki thought, still trying to get his lungs working right. A true Pet would have held the position until he was instructed to shift.

A quick glance backwards showed Iason in the shadows, back on the couch. His face was obscured by the distance, but Riki saw how one hand rested on his strong thigh. Nonchalantly, but too high, too close to his crotch, to be really proper.

Riki shuddered.

Iason's dick must be really really throbbing for him to allow this near-break in decorum. He knew it was. Riki had felt it mere seconds ago, fat and poking his back hungrily. Riki longed to appease his Master.

Except the Blondie unhelpfully refused to give in to his urges.

Body clamoring annoyingly for release, Iason clung to his principles. Work first, pleasure later. Gods.

He gestured imperiously towards the pile of clothing, registering Riki's deception in the loosening of his posture.

Sweet Riki, who didn't know how to deal with the situation. Pet training meant he needed to relieve his Master. Who was giving the opposite order, maintaining himself in frustrated denial.

The contradiction tore at Riki, an uneasy friction of what he wanted, what he needed clashing with what Iason wanted, what Iason needed. Despite what his intimate knowledge of Iason clamored he should do, Riki must follow the direct order.


Time to dress Katze.

The slow unrolling of black silk stockings was next. One long leg at a time, creamy skin gradually obscured by sheer material. Katze really did have amazing legs, firm and lightly muscled but soooo long and slim. Almost coltish.

It was no wonder Riki panted and his hands caressed under the pretense of smoothing the stocking. He went so far as to press a kiss to the soft skin inside Katze's thigh, but Iason let it slip. He didn't think this time the breach had been on purpose. His Pet was clearly extremely worked up at the moment, and so far he had been behaving unusually well. A tender kiss to truly delicious looking skin, right above the lace band, could be forgiven.

However, when the mongrel sank his teeth into Katze's instep rather than unroll the stocking on the other leg, Iason cleared his throat in warning.

Ricki swallowed and concentrated.

Get Katze dressed. Yes.

Forcing himself to be gentle with the gossamer fabric, Riki pulled it up over a bony knee. Up, up, up until the thigh's swell began to curve inward. He fussed with the stocking, chasing imaginary wrinkles just to indulge in the smooth glide beneath his fingers a bit longer. He would have loved to drag his tongue over it, but Iason was unpredictable when aroused. Best not to push him.


Lust made Katze dizzy. He ached with new sensations, allowing himself be man-handled into a short black corset by Riki. Never before had Katze been treated like this; like something precious. Something special.

Something desirable.

And Gods was there desire.

Riki was coiled tight with pent-up need and Iason radiated it from every pore. Even Katze could feel beginning flutters low in his crotch. He was sure that if he touched his dick, he would get a mighty fine erection in seconds. Katze felt swollen, his small member heavy with blood. Not rock hard like Riki clearly was, but not the placid-barely-noticed presence Katze was used to.

The urge to stroke his sex was strong, he recognized. He had occasionnally felt similar engorgement as Furniture, when he'd been forced to keep a disobedient Pet on edge for hours.

Diffuse ache-y throbbing. Potential.

Nothing would come of it if he ignored it.

Except in the current situation, Katze did not want to ignore the burgeoning warmth in his body. He was an active participant today, not merely a means to an end.

Just to prove it, Katze ran a hand along the panty front, whisper-light. A shy caress that resulted in a clenching pulse. Katze's wondering fingers pushed into his slight bulge, feeling again that answering pounding.

Well fuck.

Riki was busy at his back, he had not seen Katze.

Iason had.

The simple touch hadn't even really been sexual. Yet it stirred Iason. There was wonder in it, an innocent air of discovery. Like someone who looked upon the ocean for the first time.

Vast waters of pleasure, waiting to engulf him.

Then Riki was back in front, threading emerald silk ribbon through metal-rimmed holes with unsteady hands.

When Riki had laced the half-corset up, Katze tried to inhale deeply. His lower ribs were constricted, and his back was kept straight. It made him feel... safe, of all things. Contained, supported.

The stiff garment stopped a few inches below his nipples. The rosy disks were hard little points and Riki earned himself another warning when he rolled one lightly between thumb and index.

It was worth it, he decided, just to hear that weak cry from Katze's bite-swollen lips.

The opera-length dark green silk gloves were trickier to put on. Riki's hands were impatient, and Katze's were clumsy with nerves. Finally, it was done.

Riki left the thick gold choker were it rested on the carpet.

Instead, he helped Katze into the knee-high shiny leather boots. The spiked heel was partially compensated by the thick sole at the front, but still... Walking would be a challenge at first, for sure. Black leather, with a zipper that got hidden behind the numerous silver buckles.

Never-ending buckles -fuuuuuck.

Riki's features grew more and more stormy as strap after strap refused to cooperate, metal clanking softly.

Fucking fuck.

Riki wanted to lick, to suck, to kiss - not battle stupid footwear. His balls ached and he knew he wasn't getting any for hours. And now the buckles that pulled buttery leather tight over a rounded calf wouldn't cooperate and he just couldn't...


A shy touch at his temple froze his frustrated jitters, offering comfort. Leaning his head into Katze's open palm, Riki closed his eyes for a second and centered skittish angryred thoughts.

He pressed his lips for a soft kiss to the racing pulse in Katze's wrist before bending back to the task of fastening the boots.


Iason nodded to himself as he observed the interaction. Katze had effortlessly calmed the fiery Riki. A quality that might prove useful in the future.

Realization that they had forgotten the black mini-skirt had the humans in giggling fits again.

Iason allowed a small smile at the careful contortions required to settle it around Katze's hips.

Ok, next piece.

Riki stroked the dark glitter that adorned the mask absent-mindedly. It was quite a genius idea, actually. Sensually mysterious, it could easily pass as a Blondie Master's eccentricity. It also obscured most of Katze's face, including his scar. He could have been anyone, any pretty plaything.

That arrogant pirate would have no clue he was letting the head of Ceres's Black Market into his domain.

Finally done dressing Katze, Riki turned expectantly to Iason.

And gulped as the Blondie rose to his full stature. Pale hair cascaded over strong shoulders, sliding shiny down his back as he emanated quiet authority.

"Well done, my Riki."

His approval washed over his Pet in a cascade of warmth. Basking in the instinctive response to his Master's praise, Riki reverently presented the gold choker to him.

The metal glinted dully in the ambient lighting and Katze shrunk into himself at the initial sensation of cold metal settling round his neck. Iason's gloved fingers brushed at his nape, working the hook. Then one strong index traced along the collar, dragging confidently around to the dip of his collarbone.


Katze shivered.

Before he had the time to begin feeling embarassed in the outrageous get-up, Iason instructed Riki.

"Presentation time. Take him to the hall."

Katze wasn't really sure if Riki grabbed his hand out of excitement, or to help his balance in the heels, but he was secretely glad either way.

Riki backed him towards the full length mirror, fussed with the skirt's hem then pushed a strand of hair back. Finally, he stepped back to his Master.

Katze's insides twisted jealously at the absent-minded way Riki was tucked against the taller man's side. He curled up against his Master's warmth, practically purring contentedly.

Iason's strong arm wrapped around his waist, briefly hugging him tight. Bitterness filled the Dealer, and loneliness clenched tight in his throat.

"Well done, my Riki." Iason praised again.


The last order was for Katze, who was suddenly overcome with nerves. He really really DIDN'T want to look, he discovered.

It was the excitement bubbling in Riki's brown eyes that incited Katze to slowly spin. That, and the flash of warning in Iason's.

Katze gaped at the vision framed by gold giltwork.

It wasn't him.


That sultry creature was not Katze the Ceres Boss. And much less Katze the Furniture.

Katze squinted, trying to reconcile the image with himself.

Fiery curls caught the ambient light in auburn twists. The black masked figure was exotically fascinating, a pink tongue licking pale lips.

His pink tongue.

Iason had chosen the outfit well, which was annoying. Couldn't the Blondie mess up anything?

Katze's porcelain skin appeared even more delicate when offset by dark green and black. Despite the skirt and the corset, the whole effect was not truly feminine. It was an intriguing blend of androgynous that suited Katze's willowy form perfectly.

And the stockings, the boots. The shiny black boots that had nearly driven Riki crazy made Katze's face flame behind the mask. His legs were suddenly transformed into decadence itself.

Katze took a deep steadying inhale, watching his own chest rise and fall in the mirror. He wondered if Iason had meant for that thin vulnerable sliver of belly to peak from beneath the corset, or if his slim waist had meant the skirt rode lower than intended.

Blushing again, Katze touched a tentative fingertip to the only spot of color between the corset and the collar. His nipple puckered in response and he swallowed a moan.

Riki smiled, hugging himself to Iason's side. He could see Katze taking in the transformation, absorbing how enticing he was. Riki rolled his erection restlessly into Iason's thigh.

Riki wanted.

Fuck but he wanted to see what else he could do to Katze. Wanted him panting and undone in his bed. Wanted to see what Iason would do to him, wanted whatever Riki would be made to do to him.

Just as Katze wanted -even if he wasn't fully conscious of it yet.

Iason's instincts screamed at him to fulfill the silent longing. That ass begged for a slap. Those nipples needed to be sucked. That long neck wanted to be twisted by a hand fisting those neat ringlets.

Iason quivered to give him what he needed.

And he would.

They just had to get through the evening first.

Temptation flared; just one word from Iason and they would all be relieved. He was an Elite. The pirate would wait. Lust surged like a kick to the balls.

Suddenly, Riki's proximity grew unbearable to Iason.

Shoving his grinding Pet sideways irritably, the tall Blondie allowed himself of moment of quiet contemplation.

Resting the heel of his hand over his cock, he stood perfectly immobile. Breathing deeply. Reigning himself in.

"Pp-please." Riki's desperate whisper echoed in the shadowy space. He spoke the word that neither of the others would.

Iason's hair cascaded down around their faces as he bent to press his lips to Riki's forehead.

"Soon, my Riki. An unsavory mission awaits us first." Voice rough, he parodied Katze, who flushed red again.

A Blondie who joked.

And a castrated sex toy.

What had the world come to?

"Yes, Sir." Riki nodded, jaw jutting in determination. "I'll wait."

He squeezed his hard-on over his pants, making Katze go hot all over.

"Oh God, Iason. Make me wait. I won't... Please. I want to wait."

Iason's eyes were cold grey as he lifted his hand and tugged the glove off.

Wordlessly, he adjusted the ring on his finger.

Ricki gasped, fingers digging into his thigh. Teeth bared, he convulsed in pain.

"You will wait for me. Be ready." Iason's haughty intonation faded behind the ringing in Riki's ears. Pure agony licked up his spine and he listed sideways.

And suddenly the intensity dropped.

Silence buzzed, Riki's gulping breaths the only sound.

Katze stared, wide eyed.


Riki glared sullenly, wiping at his wet eyelashes.

Iason was mocking him now. The Pet ring was still uncomfortably tightened, as the fucker knew.

But at least the fiery pain was gone. And more importantly, Riki wouldn't be able to ejaculate by accident. Ricki had been asked to wait.

He would wait.

He would be ready.

Slumped in a defeated kneeling position on the hard floor, Riki watched the tall couple exit the apartment. He drew feeble comfort from the fact that neither Katze nor Iason wanted to wait any more than he did.

Yet they would.

And Riki would too.

Struggling to stand, Riki thumbed his belt unbuckled.

He needed a drink of water.

And a dildo.

Riki would wait.

And fuck would he be ready.