[Yami no Matsuei] "A Masked Ball" (R)
Author's Note: Written for 
kink_bingo's "orgies / decadence". Featuring Muraki/Tsuzuki, and a lot of vampires, in an AU setting.
Whatever kept Muraki happy and contented, Tsuzuki was willing to do, whatever it entailed, or so he thought. And as soon as his keeper received the red-edged parchment invitation in its black parchment envelope, he could see the pale man smirking, his good eye glinting with anticipation, though his glass eye remained impassive.
"Something's got you happy, master," Tsuzuki said, watching from his place, kneeling by Muraki's feet, as his master sat reading the mail.
"Yes, a lady of the shadows, who calls herself The Contessa, has invited me to attend a gathering of the children of the night at her mansion," Muraki said. "And, I might add, she's requested a Plus One."
"Oooh, a Plus One? Can I be the Plus One, master? Please?" Tsuzuki said, putting up his hands like a begging puppy raising its paws.
Muraki looked down to him, the smirk growing dangerous. "'May you be the Plus One?', you mean. Proper grammar, pet," he said. "Still, you've been behaving and pleasing me at night, so you've earned your place as my Plus One. And I won't even make you be a Cinderella and sort through a pile of seeds before you can go to the ball."
"A pile of seeds? I don't remember that part in the story," Tsuzuki blurted out. Then the thought crossed his mind that now that he had brought it up, Muraki would make him pay for his ignorance.
"It's in the version by the Brothers Grimm, if you'd read it when I let you loose in the library," Muraki said. "That will be your assignment, before you can go to the vampire ball with me. You've a week to complete your assignment."
"I can do that, Master, I promise," Tsuzuki said.
A week later, on the afternoon of the vampire ball, Sakaki and one of the maids drew a bath for the master's pet, washing every inch of him, then rubbing him down with rough towels, till his light skin glowed. On returning to his bedroom, Tsuzuki found an ornate violet silk gown of a Gothic-Victorian cut laid out for him, along with a pair of heeled slippers made of a clear flex material and a black domino mask trimmed with iridescent black feathers and purple rhinestones. He eyed the garments questioningly, darting a look to Sakaki.
"The master told me to see that you put them on," Sakaki said.
"I guess when he told me Cinderella was my assignment, he wasn't kidding, even if he let me off easy," Tsuzuki grumbled, as the maid held up the gown to help him into it.
Once Tsuzuki was decked out, with the slippers fastened on his feet, someone knocked on the door; the maid opened it, admitting Muraki, clad in a black frock coat over a wine-colored waistcoat.
"And so our violet-eyed treasure is ready for the ball," Muraki said, looking him over with approval.
"I hope I'm dressed to your liking," Tsuzuki said, wondering if he should be kneeling. But Muraki crooked his left arm, offering it to him.
"Like a princess in a faery-tale," he said, leading Tsuzuki out into the hallway and down to the car that awaited them.
* * * *
The mansion which they drove up to, Sakaki's son driving them, looked like something straight out of the old Hammer horror movies Tsuzuki remembered in the 1970s, with its crenelated rooftop rearing up into the night sky, and its myriad windows flickering with candle light. A full moon arose over the estate and the strains of a waltz with a dark melody drifted from within. Once the car had pulled up before the steps to the front doo, a young footman approached, opening the rear door. Muraki got out first, helping Tsuzuki out and onto the gravel drive.
"Man, this Contessa must be loaded, to afford a place like this," Tsuzuki murmured.
"Mmm, living since the time of the Medici will help one amass a considerable fortune," Muraki said, leading the way up the steps, trailing the footman. "Now, not another word until I tell you to speak: I shan't have you making a fool of yourself in front of her court."
The footman flung open the doors, leading them into a spacious entryway which gave onto a sunken reception area, already crowded with couples in lush, dark garments. Gems glittered on tiaras and collar pieces, gowns of silk and of velvet whispered and rustled as ladies moved about, on the arms of their gentlemen, or with a pet blood donor in tow.
Tsuzuki hung back, trying not to stare at the gathering, though the mask narrowed his field of vision. Muraki tugged on him gently. "Come, they're likely to grow suspicious if you hold back," Muraki coaxed.
"Doctor Kazutaka Muraki and his ward," a tall, robust-looking manservant called out, announcing them. Ho boy, they were in for it now. More than a few pairs of silvery or golden eyes turned toward them, as Muraki lead Tsuzuki through the gathering. He might be fully dressed, his identity hidden by a mask, but Tsuzuki felt completely stripped, as if the minds behind those eyes that watched them had started to peel back his gown and throw off the mask, before laying him bare to despoil him. He thought he glimpsed fangs bared and tongues going to the corners of mouths.
Muraki quickened his pace, just enough to speed their path through the hall and into the ballroom, but not enough to tempt the more suspect members of the gathering. "They're drawn to you: I shan't have any poachers," Muraki grumbled.
They entered the ballroom, already awhirl with swirling couples dancing, a hall that put Tsuzuki in mind of a royal palace: the raised dais at the head of the room likely inspired the impression. On the dais stood several gilt chairs, each occupied by an especially beautiful or handsome figure. In the middle stood an especially large chair covered seat and back with velvet, on which sat a small, slim woman in a simple black velvet gown, her red hair falling in waves down her shoulders and back. As they approached to pay their respects, she eyed Muraki with interest, though Tsuzuki felt she gazed on his master on account of said master's companion.
"Doctor Muraki, you came as I requested," she said, in a soft, sweet voice that managed to penetrate the music and the whisper of polite chatter. Her gaze went to Tsuzuki, her eyes panning from his face and down his body to his slippers. "And this is your donor and pet?" she asked.
"Yes, my lady, I have been training this one for some time," Muraki said, bowing to her and nudging Tsuzuki with his elbow. Tsuzuki took this as a signal to kneel, letting the skirts of his gown fan out on the ornate carpet that covered the dais.
"How lovely, and such unique eyes," she noted, leaning closer, her chin resting on one lightly clenched fist. "Dare I ask, is this new pet so lovely that you must hide such beauty behind a mask?" she asked.
"Yes, and I dare say, this one has turned the eyes of your guests," Muraki admitted, with a hint of pride.
"Well then, for such beauty, this one should be punished," the Contessa said.
Tsuzuki gulped, darting a sidelong look at Muraki as best as he could with the mask covering his face.
Muraki chuckled in his throat. "Name the punishment, though as the master of this donor, I reserve the right to refuse the punishment and request another."
"Very well," the Contessa said, her golden eyes scanning up and down Tsuzuki's form. "In that case, I order this donor to be stripped of that gown. The mask may remain."
Ho boy. Had the Contessa read his thoughts and decided to act on them? Almost the same moment, Tsuzuki thought he felt Muraki tense a bit, then relax: the punishment could be worse. "Very well, as my lady wishes, it shall be done." And kneeling behind Tsuzuki, he set to work unfastening the lacings up the back of the gown. Muraki leaned over him, whispering in his ear, "They might gaze on you, but only I shall partake of you."
Muraki parted the halves of the gown, sliding them from Tsuzuki's back, pushing the gown to the floor. "Have him stand up and remove the gown," the Contessa ordered. Tsuzuki rose, keeping his head bowed, Muraki rising with him, pressing his chest against Tsuzuki's back, as he pushed the gown into a pool around their feet. A murmur rose from the gathered vampires, hisses of jealousy and hunger, even something like awe and fear, but none dared approach, not in this place, none challenged the pale man's choice of a donor. The gown must have been magicked to veil Tsuzuki's nature: They could see now what Tsuzuki was, not just what he appeared to be.
"They shan't challenge me now," Muraki murmured, and Tsuzuki could feel his keeper's arousal against his tailbone as Muraki pressed closer, arms about his waist, laying his mouth against Tsuzuki's neck. He felt the air warm about them as his master's energy tendrils enclosed them, then the sting of Muraki's fangs on his flesh as his master bit into him, marking him as his own. The vampires about them hissed, and he watched the shadows drawing back, accepting the energy feeder's choice in a donor...
Card can be found here
kink_bingo's "orgies / decadence". Featuring Muraki/Tsuzuki, and a lot of vampires, in an AU setting.
Whatever kept Muraki happy and contented, Tsuzuki was willing to do, whatever it entailed, or so he thought. And as soon as his keeper received the red-edged parchment invitation in its black parchment envelope, he could see the pale man smirking, his good eye glinting with anticipation, though his glass eye remained impassive.
"Something's got you happy, master," Tsuzuki said, watching from his place, kneeling by Muraki's feet, as his master sat reading the mail.
"Yes, a lady of the shadows, who calls herself The Contessa, has invited me to attend a gathering of the children of the night at her mansion," Muraki said. "And, I might add, she's requested a Plus One."
"Oooh, a Plus One? Can I be the Plus One, master? Please?" Tsuzuki said, putting up his hands like a begging puppy raising its paws.
Muraki looked down to him, the smirk growing dangerous. "'May you be the Plus One?', you mean. Proper grammar, pet," he said. "Still, you've been behaving and pleasing me at night, so you've earned your place as my Plus One. And I won't even make you be a Cinderella and sort through a pile of seeds before you can go to the ball."
"A pile of seeds? I don't remember that part in the story," Tsuzuki blurted out. Then the thought crossed his mind that now that he had brought it up, Muraki would make him pay for his ignorance.
"It's in the version by the Brothers Grimm, if you'd read it when I let you loose in the library," Muraki said. "That will be your assignment, before you can go to the vampire ball with me. You've a week to complete your assignment."
"I can do that, Master, I promise," Tsuzuki said.
A week later, on the afternoon of the vampire ball, Sakaki and one of the maids drew a bath for the master's pet, washing every inch of him, then rubbing him down with rough towels, till his light skin glowed. On returning to his bedroom, Tsuzuki found an ornate violet silk gown of a Gothic-Victorian cut laid out for him, along with a pair of heeled slippers made of a clear flex material and a black domino mask trimmed with iridescent black feathers and purple rhinestones. He eyed the garments questioningly, darting a look to Sakaki.
"The master told me to see that you put them on," Sakaki said.
"I guess when he told me Cinderella was my assignment, he wasn't kidding, even if he let me off easy," Tsuzuki grumbled, as the maid held up the gown to help him into it.
Once Tsuzuki was decked out, with the slippers fastened on his feet, someone knocked on the door; the maid opened it, admitting Muraki, clad in a black frock coat over a wine-colored waistcoat.
"And so our violet-eyed treasure is ready for the ball," Muraki said, looking him over with approval.
"I hope I'm dressed to your liking," Tsuzuki said, wondering if he should be kneeling. But Muraki crooked his left arm, offering it to him.
"Like a princess in a faery-tale," he said, leading Tsuzuki out into the hallway and down to the car that awaited them.
* * * *
The mansion which they drove up to, Sakaki's son driving them, looked like something straight out of the old Hammer horror movies Tsuzuki remembered in the 1970s, with its crenelated rooftop rearing up into the night sky, and its myriad windows flickering with candle light. A full moon arose over the estate and the strains of a waltz with a dark melody drifted from within. Once the car had pulled up before the steps to the front doo, a young footman approached, opening the rear door. Muraki got out first, helping Tsuzuki out and onto the gravel drive.
"Man, this Contessa must be loaded, to afford a place like this," Tsuzuki murmured.
"Mmm, living since the time of the Medici will help one amass a considerable fortune," Muraki said, leading the way up the steps, trailing the footman. "Now, not another word until I tell you to speak: I shan't have you making a fool of yourself in front of her court."
The footman flung open the doors, leading them into a spacious entryway which gave onto a sunken reception area, already crowded with couples in lush, dark garments. Gems glittered on tiaras and collar pieces, gowns of silk and of velvet whispered and rustled as ladies moved about, on the arms of their gentlemen, or with a pet blood donor in tow.
Tsuzuki hung back, trying not to stare at the gathering, though the mask narrowed his field of vision. Muraki tugged on him gently. "Come, they're likely to grow suspicious if you hold back," Muraki coaxed.
"Doctor Kazutaka Muraki and his ward," a tall, robust-looking manservant called out, announcing them. Ho boy, they were in for it now. More than a few pairs of silvery or golden eyes turned toward them, as Muraki lead Tsuzuki through the gathering. He might be fully dressed, his identity hidden by a mask, but Tsuzuki felt completely stripped, as if the minds behind those eyes that watched them had started to peel back his gown and throw off the mask, before laying him bare to despoil him. He thought he glimpsed fangs bared and tongues going to the corners of mouths.
Muraki quickened his pace, just enough to speed their path through the hall and into the ballroom, but not enough to tempt the more suspect members of the gathering. "They're drawn to you: I shan't have any poachers," Muraki grumbled.
They entered the ballroom, already awhirl with swirling couples dancing, a hall that put Tsuzuki in mind of a royal palace: the raised dais at the head of the room likely inspired the impression. On the dais stood several gilt chairs, each occupied by an especially beautiful or handsome figure. In the middle stood an especially large chair covered seat and back with velvet, on which sat a small, slim woman in a simple black velvet gown, her red hair falling in waves down her shoulders and back. As they approached to pay their respects, she eyed Muraki with interest, though Tsuzuki felt she gazed on his master on account of said master's companion.
"Doctor Muraki, you came as I requested," she said, in a soft, sweet voice that managed to penetrate the music and the whisper of polite chatter. Her gaze went to Tsuzuki, her eyes panning from his face and down his body to his slippers. "And this is your donor and pet?" she asked.
"Yes, my lady, I have been training this one for some time," Muraki said, bowing to her and nudging Tsuzuki with his elbow. Tsuzuki took this as a signal to kneel, letting the skirts of his gown fan out on the ornate carpet that covered the dais.
"How lovely, and such unique eyes," she noted, leaning closer, her chin resting on one lightly clenched fist. "Dare I ask, is this new pet so lovely that you must hide such beauty behind a mask?" she asked.
"Yes, and I dare say, this one has turned the eyes of your guests," Muraki admitted, with a hint of pride.
"Well then, for such beauty, this one should be punished," the Contessa said.
Tsuzuki gulped, darting a sidelong look at Muraki as best as he could with the mask covering his face.
Muraki chuckled in his throat. "Name the punishment, though as the master of this donor, I reserve the right to refuse the punishment and request another."
"Very well," the Contessa said, her golden eyes scanning up and down Tsuzuki's form. "In that case, I order this donor to be stripped of that gown. The mask may remain."
Ho boy. Had the Contessa read his thoughts and decided to act on them? Almost the same moment, Tsuzuki thought he felt Muraki tense a bit, then relax: the punishment could be worse. "Very well, as my lady wishes, it shall be done." And kneeling behind Tsuzuki, he set to work unfastening the lacings up the back of the gown. Muraki leaned over him, whispering in his ear, "They might gaze on you, but only I shall partake of you."
Muraki parted the halves of the gown, sliding them from Tsuzuki's back, pushing the gown to the floor. "Have him stand up and remove the gown," the Contessa ordered. Tsuzuki rose, keeping his head bowed, Muraki rising with him, pressing his chest against Tsuzuki's back, as he pushed the gown into a pool around their feet. A murmur rose from the gathered vampires, hisses of jealousy and hunger, even something like awe and fear, but none dared approach, not in this place, none challenged the pale man's choice of a donor. The gown must have been magicked to veil Tsuzuki's nature: They could see now what Tsuzuki was, not just what he appeared to be.
"They shan't challenge me now," Muraki murmured, and Tsuzuki could feel his keeper's arousal against his tailbone as Muraki pressed closer, arms about his waist, laying his mouth against Tsuzuki's neck. He felt the air warm about them as his master's energy tendrils enclosed them, then the sting of Muraki's fangs on his flesh as his master bit into him, marking him as his own. The vampires about them hissed, and he watched the shadows drawing back, accepting the energy feeder's choice in a donor...
Card can be found here