fic: White Butterfly 26
Title: White Butterfly 26
Author: Seraphim Grace
Archive: http://www.geocities.com/taliasen1256.html, http://www.Seraphim-grace.livejournal.com. If you want it ask.
Feedback: Always appreciated and replied to.
Rating: 18.
Pairings: Crawford x Ran others to be notified later.
Warnings: Het, yaoi, vast cast.
The Aya no Bara was sat with his head in a bowl into which water poured and then trailed over into a drain, as his hair was combed. It was a relaxing thing as Naoe ran the comb through his hair. It was still shorter than he had once worn it but now hung loose around his neck, long enough for this kind of luxury. Naoe knelt over him singing softly under his breath because this was as relaxing for him as it was for his master. The water was a zen sound, softly bubbling and warm, running through his fingers as he softly combed Aya's hair. When it grew longer it would take two to comb it like this as it was done in long slow strokes to prevent breakage. It made his hair shimmer and hang like a waterfall. Although it was still short from where Crawford had hacked it away, it was long enough now for a rudimentary top knot.
Naoe was straddling his hips as he ran the comb through his hair, and Aya was almost asleep feeling the gentle gestures of Naoe's hands and the sexless rubbing of his hips against Aya's stomach. All his life he had had Baba care for him, but now knew he wouldn't swap Naoe for the world.
Fuji opened the door and came in, “Crawford wants your presence with the interrogation of the elf's prisoner, he thinks that having you there might shake some information loose that might not have come out otherwise.”
Naoe swung off where he rested on Aya's hips and moved to get a piece of soft cotton, which he then wrapped about Aya's hair and pinned in place quickly. “Oh, Naoe,” Fuji said with a laugh, “what would it take for me to steal you away?”
“Become Crawford's concubine.” Naoe said tersely. “I belong to him.” His expression was completely still.
Fuji's smile didn't falter even though Naoe's mien was firm and cruel, “ah, but I could pay so much more.”
“I have no use for money.” Naoe said softly. He turned to Aya, asking “Would you like me to accompany you?”
Aya paused for a moment, “actually, I would rather that you helped Ken with Baba's chores.” Naoe nodded and as he walked past Fuji, he reached back and pinched Fuji's bottom.
Fuji laughed, “he's a priceless little demon.”
“Yes,” Aya said, but his expression was a still lake, “I would not trade him for the universe.”
“You shared a lot in the House of Sleep.” Fuji said, his expression that same mocking half smile, “it gives strange bonds- such magic.”
“I was not with him, his price was his alone.” Aya said calmly, “now I believe I was requested.”
Fuji said nothing else as they walked through the house to the prison cell at the end of the hidden walkway.
The prisoner was in the oubliette and was little more to Aya than a head in a hole, but the elf was sprawled against a wall, picking at his teeth with a knife. Fuji took a place beside the door and Crawford stood like a statue. “As I was saying,” the elf said, “I think we should use the flechettes, I brought them all the way from Italy and there is nothing for making people talk like a set of flechettes. Peel off a couple of inches of skin, into a flap and then pull, he'll tell us everything he ever knew.”
Schuldig went a little pale. “It is not the way in Nihon,” he said, “I know our nature says to poke and prod and pull and twist with sharp implements but in Nihon they are more patient.”
The elf snorted. “If we can crucify our god I say we can disembowel him, he will tell us everything. I will do it if none of you have the stomach for it.” He smiled, “pun definitely intended.”
“We can restrain him.” Yohji said, “I know the fundamentals, I know the knots, we can tie him and wait for Tezuka.”
“Suspension.” Crawford said finally, “we shall suspend him over the pit, so make the knots secure. Are you sure that you can do it, Kudou?”
Yohji nodded, “I've done it before.” He said, and from the shelf behind him took a length of hemp rope, “the hooks and winches are here already,” he said, “It should be fine. Elf, will you fetch him?”
The Elf reached into the pit and grabbed the man, who was stoically silent, by the back of his collar, and dragged him up. “I can make him talk,” the elf said quietly.
“No doubt,” Crawford said blankly, “but it is hard to decipher the words when the subject has no tongue and will tell you anything just to stop the bleeding.” He looked at the Elf critically, “we'll try it the old fashioned way first, and if he doesn't talk then you can use your wiles, I am not in the mood for blood today, it gets into everything and I rather like this robe.”
Fuji stood behind Aya, his chin resting on his shoulder looking at the prisoner. Yohji had bound him quickly and deftly, if not with art, leaving him dressed and twisted into a position, held there by the ropes. “Tell me, Aya-no-bara,” Fuji whispered in his ear, “for it is of no consequence to me or to you, what is is that has you so flustered?” He ran his fingertips along the seam in the back of Aya's kimono, “is it the tying? Or the being tied?”
Aya said nothing and just went to push past him, but Fuji stopped him with his softly mocking closed eyed smile, “just imagine,” Fuji said, “the image of yourself bound with brightly coloured ropes, letting the light from the lamps find different parts of your skin to cherish, open and held for his pleasure, suspended like him,” he gestured with his head to the man hanging from the ceiling, “a toy for him to play with.”
Aya made a disapproving hn noise.
“But Crawford's tastes do not run so, if it is your wish, you will have to be blatant.” And with a quick lick to Aya's ear, to tease him, Fuji left.
Although Aya did everything in his power to exile the thoughts that Fuji had given him he was drawn again and again to the images of the rope on the prisoner. Shibari was an ancient form of torture. A prisoner was tied into a position his body did not willingly hold and left there, then after several days the bonds were released and he was negotiated into a new position, one equally uncomfortable, but now with the strain of muscles locked into place by inanition.
Aya had heard, though he had never seen it personally, that men could go mad under the ropes.
Yet he also knew there were places in Edo and Kyoto where, for a price, a pretty girl or boy could be bound, not as tightly as in torture, for the consumer's pleasure. They had all manner of purposes, he remembered nights giggling with Sano at the thought of a girl bound over and tied to form a low table, or a footstool. He had laughed at the very perversity of it, but had given it no more thought than that.
Now he found himself laughing again, under his breath at the mere thought.
For a second he thought of Crawford tied and then, despite that the twins were now looking at him askance, he laughed out loud. Crawford was like a force of nature, he could not be bound by simple ropes, or held in place by knots. The image was ridiculous and he would be sure to share the joke with his master later.
Besides, he also knew that if he tied Crawford he would have no idea what to do with him, as Crawford had always been the aggressor in their liaisons.
Then, as he toyed with the tea in his bowl, swirling it around the edges in thought, he imagined himself tied and bound. Naked. There would be a rope around his throat forcing his obeisance, and he would be displayed, unable to stop Crawford doing anything he wanted.
His cock thickened in his hakama.
He swallowed his tea angrily and went in search of other amusements.
Ken carried a large bundle of futons for Baba to have them aired in the dry clean air that was rolling across the lake. He bent over to lay them on the table that had been set there before he could hang them over the line. “A nice day for it,” Kudoh said from a chair on the lake beach, there was a fishing line in front of him, but he seemed more interested in Ken, specifically in the line of Ken's calves.
“It is still a bit brisk, Kudoh-san,” Ken said politely with a bow, “but the futons do need airing, did you leave yours out this morning?”
Kudoh frowned for a moment, “certainly,” he said “but surely there are other things we can talk about, I mean, both Crawford and the Aya no Bara dominate your time and in all the weeks that we have shared a house I can't remember us having a simple conversation. I barely know you.”
“I'm a servant,” Ken said politely, “and you're an imperial messenger. I can't imagine we'd have an awful lot in common.”
“We are both servants, in our way.” Kudoh said, standing up so that he showed off his height. “We both serve the same master.”
“You serve the Aya no Bara too?” Ken asked and threw one of the futons over the line.
Kudoh bit his lip, but quickly composed himself and swept his hair back from his face. He wore a pair of blue eye glasses that covered some of his face had Ken cared to read his expressions. “I serve Crawford,” he said, “and I will be going on to Kyoto before the main house arrives there. But I wouldn't mind at all showing you the sights of the city. There are wonders in Kyoto available for anyone with money, and I do have that.”
“It's fine,” Ken replied calmly, shaking out the last of the futons, “I don't really have interest in things like that, if I go to the Noh or the summer dances,” Ken looked proud that he had heard of these things, because he was just a simple country boy, “it will be to help the Aya no Bara with his tea or candies.”
Kudoh decided to take another tack. “I have some lovely prints.” He said, “of things like the Noh, and the summer dances, and some of the most famous courtesans, I can show you if you like.”
“That's fine,” Ken answered calmly, “Baba has other chores for me, perhaps later.” Kudoh gritted his teeth but said nothing, “but I help Fuji-sama with his prints, I clean the woodblocks for him. I see lots of art that way. He's some funny stories. You could ask him to tell you.”
Kudoh adjusted his hair and then his glasses. “I'll talk to you more when you're not as busy.” He told him and then walked back towards the house.
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Author: Seraphim Grace
Archive: http://www.geocities.com/taliasen1256.html, http://www.Seraphim-grace.livejournal.com. If you want it ask.
Feedback: Always appreciated and replied to.
Rating: 18.
Pairings: Crawford x Ran others to be notified later.
Warnings: Het, yaoi, vast cast.
The Aya no Bara was sat with his head in a bowl into which water poured and then trailed over into a drain, as his hair was combed. It was a relaxing thing as Naoe ran the comb through his hair. It was still shorter than he had once worn it but now hung loose around his neck, long enough for this kind of luxury. Naoe knelt over him singing softly under his breath because this was as relaxing for him as it was for his master. The water was a zen sound, softly bubbling and warm, running through his fingers as he softly combed Aya's hair. When it grew longer it would take two to comb it like this as it was done in long slow strokes to prevent breakage. It made his hair shimmer and hang like a waterfall. Although it was still short from where Crawford had hacked it away, it was long enough now for a rudimentary top knot.
Naoe was straddling his hips as he ran the comb through his hair, and Aya was almost asleep feeling the gentle gestures of Naoe's hands and the sexless rubbing of his hips against Aya's stomach. All his life he had had Baba care for him, but now knew he wouldn't swap Naoe for the world.
Fuji opened the door and came in, “Crawford wants your presence with the interrogation of the elf's prisoner, he thinks that having you there might shake some information loose that might not have come out otherwise.”
Naoe swung off where he rested on Aya's hips and moved to get a piece of soft cotton, which he then wrapped about Aya's hair and pinned in place quickly. “Oh, Naoe,” Fuji said with a laugh, “what would it take for me to steal you away?”
“Become Crawford's concubine.” Naoe said tersely. “I belong to him.” His expression was completely still.
Fuji's smile didn't falter even though Naoe's mien was firm and cruel, “ah, but I could pay so much more.”
“I have no use for money.” Naoe said softly. He turned to Aya, asking “Would you like me to accompany you?”
Aya paused for a moment, “actually, I would rather that you helped Ken with Baba's chores.” Naoe nodded and as he walked past Fuji, he reached back and pinched Fuji's bottom.
Fuji laughed, “he's a priceless little demon.”
“Yes,” Aya said, but his expression was a still lake, “I would not trade him for the universe.”
“You shared a lot in the House of Sleep.” Fuji said, his expression that same mocking half smile, “it gives strange bonds- such magic.”
“I was not with him, his price was his alone.” Aya said calmly, “now I believe I was requested.”
Fuji said nothing else as they walked through the house to the prison cell at the end of the hidden walkway.
The prisoner was in the oubliette and was little more to Aya than a head in a hole, but the elf was sprawled against a wall, picking at his teeth with a knife. Fuji took a place beside the door and Crawford stood like a statue. “As I was saying,” the elf said, “I think we should use the flechettes, I brought them all the way from Italy and there is nothing for making people talk like a set of flechettes. Peel off a couple of inches of skin, into a flap and then pull, he'll tell us everything he ever knew.”
Schuldig went a little pale. “It is not the way in Nihon,” he said, “I know our nature says to poke and prod and pull and twist with sharp implements but in Nihon they are more patient.”
The elf snorted. “If we can crucify our god I say we can disembowel him, he will tell us everything. I will do it if none of you have the stomach for it.” He smiled, “pun definitely intended.”
“We can restrain him.” Yohji said, “I know the fundamentals, I know the knots, we can tie him and wait for Tezuka.”
“Suspension.” Crawford said finally, “we shall suspend him over the pit, so make the knots secure. Are you sure that you can do it, Kudou?”
Yohji nodded, “I've done it before.” He said, and from the shelf behind him took a length of hemp rope, “the hooks and winches are here already,” he said, “It should be fine. Elf, will you fetch him?”
The Elf reached into the pit and grabbed the man, who was stoically silent, by the back of his collar, and dragged him up. “I can make him talk,” the elf said quietly.
“No doubt,” Crawford said blankly, “but it is hard to decipher the words when the subject has no tongue and will tell you anything just to stop the bleeding.” He looked at the Elf critically, “we'll try it the old fashioned way first, and if he doesn't talk then you can use your wiles, I am not in the mood for blood today, it gets into everything and I rather like this robe.”
Fuji stood behind Aya, his chin resting on his shoulder looking at the prisoner. Yohji had bound him quickly and deftly, if not with art, leaving him dressed and twisted into a position, held there by the ropes. “Tell me, Aya-no-bara,” Fuji whispered in his ear, “for it is of no consequence to me or to you, what is is that has you so flustered?” He ran his fingertips along the seam in the back of Aya's kimono, “is it the tying? Or the being tied?”
Aya said nothing and just went to push past him, but Fuji stopped him with his softly mocking closed eyed smile, “just imagine,” Fuji said, “the image of yourself bound with brightly coloured ropes, letting the light from the lamps find different parts of your skin to cherish, open and held for his pleasure, suspended like him,” he gestured with his head to the man hanging from the ceiling, “a toy for him to play with.”
Aya made a disapproving hn noise.
“But Crawford's tastes do not run so, if it is your wish, you will have to be blatant.” And with a quick lick to Aya's ear, to tease him, Fuji left.
Although Aya did everything in his power to exile the thoughts that Fuji had given him he was drawn again and again to the images of the rope on the prisoner. Shibari was an ancient form of torture. A prisoner was tied into a position his body did not willingly hold and left there, then after several days the bonds were released and he was negotiated into a new position, one equally uncomfortable, but now with the strain of muscles locked into place by inanition.
Aya had heard, though he had never seen it personally, that men could go mad under the ropes.
Yet he also knew there were places in Edo and Kyoto where, for a price, a pretty girl or boy could be bound, not as tightly as in torture, for the consumer's pleasure. They had all manner of purposes, he remembered nights giggling with Sano at the thought of a girl bound over and tied to form a low table, or a footstool. He had laughed at the very perversity of it, but had given it no more thought than that.
Now he found himself laughing again, under his breath at the mere thought.
For a second he thought of Crawford tied and then, despite that the twins were now looking at him askance, he laughed out loud. Crawford was like a force of nature, he could not be bound by simple ropes, or held in place by knots. The image was ridiculous and he would be sure to share the joke with his master later.
Besides, he also knew that if he tied Crawford he would have no idea what to do with him, as Crawford had always been the aggressor in their liaisons.
Then, as he toyed with the tea in his bowl, swirling it around the edges in thought, he imagined himself tied and bound. Naked. There would be a rope around his throat forcing his obeisance, and he would be displayed, unable to stop Crawford doing anything he wanted.
His cock thickened in his hakama.
He swallowed his tea angrily and went in search of other amusements.
Ken carried a large bundle of futons for Baba to have them aired in the dry clean air that was rolling across the lake. He bent over to lay them on the table that had been set there before he could hang them over the line. “A nice day for it,” Kudoh said from a chair on the lake beach, there was a fishing line in front of him, but he seemed more interested in Ken, specifically in the line of Ken's calves.
“It is still a bit brisk, Kudoh-san,” Ken said politely with a bow, “but the futons do need airing, did you leave yours out this morning?”
Kudoh frowned for a moment, “certainly,” he said “but surely there are other things we can talk about, I mean, both Crawford and the Aya no Bara dominate your time and in all the weeks that we have shared a house I can't remember us having a simple conversation. I barely know you.”
“I'm a servant,” Ken said politely, “and you're an imperial messenger. I can't imagine we'd have an awful lot in common.”
“We are both servants, in our way.” Kudoh said, standing up so that he showed off his height. “We both serve the same master.”
“You serve the Aya no Bara too?” Ken asked and threw one of the futons over the line.
Kudoh bit his lip, but quickly composed himself and swept his hair back from his face. He wore a pair of blue eye glasses that covered some of his face had Ken cared to read his expressions. “I serve Crawford,” he said, “and I will be going on to Kyoto before the main house arrives there. But I wouldn't mind at all showing you the sights of the city. There are wonders in Kyoto available for anyone with money, and I do have that.”
“It's fine,” Ken replied calmly, shaking out the last of the futons, “I don't really have interest in things like that, if I go to the Noh or the summer dances,” Ken looked proud that he had heard of these things, because he was just a simple country boy, “it will be to help the Aya no Bara with his tea or candies.”
Kudoh decided to take another tack. “I have some lovely prints.” He said, “of things like the Noh, and the summer dances, and some of the most famous courtesans, I can show you if you like.”
“That's fine,” Ken answered calmly, “Baba has other chores for me, perhaps later.” Kudoh gritted his teeth but said nothing, “but I help Fuji-sama with his prints, I clean the woodblocks for him. I see lots of art that way. He's some funny stories. You could ask him to tell you.”
Kudoh adjusted his hair and then his glasses. “I'll talk to you more when you're not as busy.” He told him and then walked back towards the house.
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