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Sacrificial	By : trowacko Category: +. to F > Ai no Kusabi Views: 3971 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Ai no Kusabi, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Sacrificial
- 1
Title - Sacrificial

Author - trowacko

Archive - http://www.trowacko.com

Rating - NC17

Warnings - a little yummy, a little Iason/Katse

Spoilers - i'd say yes, but really, this series leaves much to speculation, and
this is prior to the actual anime.

Disclaimer: I don�t own Ai no Kusabi nor do I profit from this.
Katse stood outside the warehouse with his worn leather jacket pulled close
about his form to fend off the bitter cold. Behind him, the line extended well
beyond the next block, and Katse was sure that in front of him, the line was
probably another block long. He'd heard a faint call that had seemed outside
reality minutes ago, though the next time it sounded, he had no problem
distinguishing the word.
"Next!"
The line shuffled forward two steps.
The apprehension he'd felt earlier shrank in the frigid weather, and he
risked a glance behind him to view the other potential Furnitures. Men of
varying heights and hair color barely looked back at him. Each specimen lacked
a feature or quality to make them incredibly remarkable, though not a single
one wasn't beautiful in some way. Arresting eyes, sloped cheekbones, finely
carved nose, or lustrous hair. Mongrels who held a semblance of beauty, though
it wasn't a trait that would help them attain a better life outside Ceres. One
could become a whore alongside discarded Pets, or one could opt to vie for one
of the coveted positions of a Furniture as all these men had come to do.
"Next!"
The line shuffled forward again.
An interminable amount of time later, Katse was directed to a waiting area
where all the subjects had stripped down to their underwear. Without being
told, Katse followed suit, holding his clothes in front of him, and shivering
in the chill of the concrete building. He found himself herded down a hall into
warmer temperatures as the drab warehouse appearance gave way to a medical type
facility. Standing in a room with four other auburn-haired gentlemen, they each
dropped their respective bundles in front of them as ordered. The woman in
medical whites gave them a cursory inspection, pausing when she reached a man a
little shorter than Katse.
"You're dismissed," she advised, walking out the door without a
backward glance. The others regarded the rejected specimen of their number,
noting the twisted scar that snaked around his middle from a knife fight. His
eyes narrowed, yet he said nothing as he gathered up his clothes and stalked
from the room. A Furniture whose body could not complement the perfect beauty
of Pets had no place in being their keeper.
"-really, Iason," a voice broke through the new silence, "you
don't have to inspect them yourself, you know. I'm quite capable of
choosing-"
"I didn't say you weren't trustworthy. I said I wanted to choose the
next one myself," a quieter voice replied.
A shorter man walked through the door, his older appearance marking him as a
trader. The Blondie who strode in his wake further dwarfed his smaller form.
Peripherally, Katse could see the other three men stand straighter, as he did.
He didn't dare meet the cold glare that roamed over his body, though he wished
the cold had diminished much sooner to rid him of his half erection.
"Have them strip," Iason murmured.
"Remove your clothing," the trader advised loudly in the small
room, eager to comply with the Blondie's command.
Katse pushed his briefs down his cold legs, and let the cloth sit in a
crumpled heap next to his clothes. In a moment of defiance, he met the
Blondie's gaze, intrigued by the formidable beauty that glared back at him.
While his competition lowered their gaze and clasped their hands before them,
Katse stood straighter, though he'd finally dropped his own gaze. He didn't
dare cover himself; it may very well have been the last time he'd be able to
enjoy the mild pleasure of arousal, even if it did come more from the cold, and
he didn't intend to waste these last precious moments.
"He'll do," Iason instructed with a nod in Katse's direction. He
turned and strode from the room without waiting to see if his command would be
followed.
"Remain here," the trader advised the other three as he approached
Katse. "Come, you'll be among the finals in a private selection." He
led Katse down another hall and into a smaller room that contained only a small
bed. He told Katse to wait, and Katse stood stiffly against the wall. He
wondered if he should have grabbed his clothing before being whisked away from
the previous room.
Minutes dragged by without contact from the outside as to his fate or
selection. Katse took to pacing restlessly back and forth before the motions
threatened to add to the aggravation rather than alleviate it. He sat on the
bed while he contemplated the choice he'd just made in choosing to be a
Furniture. With no siblings to speak of, and no close ties to any of the gangs
that littered Ceres, his lone state was both beneficial and debilitating to
him. Beneficial in that he was free to act as he pleased without answering to a
leader or gang, and debilitating in that whatever he did act on was without the
backing of a gang who could defend him should a deal go south. Becoming a
Furniture was a logical transition to make in order to ensure his survival; it wasn't
as though he'd had an opportunity to have used the equipment he was about to
lose at any rate.
"Are you comfortable?"
The voice jerked him from the wanderings of his mind, and Katse sat up
straighter as the Blondie he'd seen before entered the room quietly. He didn't
answer right away, not quite knowing what the proper response would be; his
comfort was irrelevant.
"Yes," he finally settled on, "as well as can be
expected."
"Good," Iason answered, gesturing for Katse to stand. Katse did
so, closing the distance between them without being asked.
The Blondie intrigued him. He'd never heard of a Furniture going through
such an odd stage of selection; perhaps this Blondie was particular when it
came to his Furniture. "Turn around, I want to see the rest of you."
Katse complied without hesitation.
'He's looking at me like Blondies look at Pets.' The thought wasn't very
welcome; especially when he finished his turn to find the Blondie towering over
him. Before he could step back, he found both his hands clasped in a firm grip.
His arms were raised over his head, and he stumbled the few steps it took to
stand against the wall. He said nothing, though he knew the Blondie had to have
heard the gasp that he emitted when first surprised.
"Why do you want to become a Furniture," Iason asked in a low
voice as he studied the figure in his grasp. The man's body, while being that
of a mongrel, was finely sculpted and quite worthy of one of the more upscale
whorehouses in Midas. Losing the length that might have earned him more money
than being a Furniture was an odd decision.
"I do business for myself. Considering the longevity of most
occupations, that of a Furniture seems to be the wiser choice in prolonging my
existence," Katse replied coolly. If the Blondie wanted to test his worth
by prodding the limits where he'd submit, he intended to show it would take a
lot.
"At the loss of this?" Iason slid his gloved hand down Katse's
body, his fingers pressing warm trails until they grasped Katse's length. Katse
gasped and felt his body wrench under the touch. His legs clamped together as
nerves fired excitedly down his body. He couldn't pull his arms away from the
Blondie's, though he barely tried. His concentration was suddenly on the hand
that lightly pulled on his rapidly hardening flesh.
"What are you doing?" he gasped as he fought to reclaim control of
his body. He knew his eyes opened wider, but he didn't care. He wanted to
attribute the heat that had enveloped him to the room, yet it was a lie and he
knew it. It pulsed through his body hot enough to force the first whisper of
sweat to his limbs. His body had awakened under so light a touch that he didn't
have the means of controlling its animalistic lust.
"Answer the question."
'What was the question?' he thought with a dim sense of desperation.
"The question," the Blondie supplied as though he read Katse's
mind, "was why would you want to become a Furniture at the loss of
this." He ended the question with a few light tugs that sent spasms across
Katse's virgin flesh.
"Because," he answered loudly, as though the excess noise would
adequately cover the fact that he had become quite aroused by that point,
"one can't miss what one doesn't use." His harsh breath lightly
puffed a few stray hairs from Iason's face, yet the Blondie didn't even blink
as they tickled his skin.
Iason stopped his movements immediately. He'd never met a potential
Furniture who was still a virgin. Yet despite the younger man's insistence on
the position, it seemed such a waste that he should never have the pleasure of
passion. A lesser mongrel might have broken down by now, but this one held on
nicely, Iason thought as he toyed with the young man who might become his
Furniture, or a Pet if he proved to have the stamina.
"Interesting," he murmured to himself. It wouldn't be the first
time Iason took a mongrel for a Pet, although the previous mongrel had been his
for only a week before he released him; the man had been far too weak to handle
Iason's ministrations enjoyably. He touched their foreheads together, forcing
Katse to look directly at him. "You've never felt anything like this
before, then?" His fingers lightly kneaded flesh, moving down the rigid
length to touch the warm sac beneath. Katse shook his head.
"N-not really," he stammered. Where he knew other men indulged in
fondling themselves when they didn't have a pairing partner, Katse hadn't felt
any particular urge towards masturbation; indeed, he rarely felt attracted
toward any of the other people in Ceres despite the abundance of beauty. It was
another reason he had felt himself more than adequate to be a Furniture.
The cold flecks of blue bore into him, yet it was in this direct gaze that
Katse felt his control slip from him willingly. Freed in the way Iason's eyes
held him prisoner, Katse let a low moan loose as the sensations rode his body
higher and higher. The sweat he knew peppered his forehead had to have wetted
the Blondie's forehead, yet the taller man showed none of the annoyance Katse
would have expected. All the strength he'd counted on in proving his
superiority above the other candidates melted in the simple ministrations of
the Blondie pleasuring him. He wouldn't beg, he wouldn't ask for more, and only
his eyes would allow a plea to be spoken.
"What is your name?"
Katse moaned, his own name temporarily forgotten as his body logged away
every sensation that spiraled through it. He thought for a moment before he
answered, "Katse."
"Then remember this, Katse. And I will show you what you are giving
up." Iason's hand pumped faster, then slower, an erratic pace that didn't
allow Katse to anticipate the attack of the pleasure overriding his mind.
Light and dark flashed across Katse's eyes, and he closed them from sinking
too deeply in the Blondie's glare. He wanted to press his lips forward and kiss
the other man; he felt himself gasp uncontrollably, his body twisting as though
he could get loose of the iron grip on his wrists. His legs gave out beneath
him, and he felt himself lifted so the Blondie wouldn't have to bend over to
continue his torment. When the pressure became too great, Katse's eyes squeezed
shut and he knocked his head against the concrete wall when he released against
the pristine glove. He bit his lip to stifle the cry that threatened to break
free, and felt blood trickle down his chin. His body felt as though it had
released the majority of his life force, yet he wanted more. Even the pain at
the back of his head couldn't quell the desperate lust that racked his body.
When he felt himself half-carried to the bed, he didn't resist; he couldn't
even raise his arms to catch himself when the Blondie tossed him onto the bed.
"Kneel there, facing the wall," the same unemotional voice
commanded. Unable to allow thought to invade his mind, Katse obeyed, his
muscles still quivering in luscious fatigue. Out of the corner of his eye, he
saw the Blondie's robe fall to the floor, followed by a neatly pressed shirt.
'What the-'
The essence he hadn't bothered looking at on the Blondie's glove had lost
some of its warmth, cooling the slick feeling that slid over his skin, invading
the flesh that hid his entrance. A finger grazed the outer walls, sparking a
new set of sensations that gave Katse almost as much pleasure as it did when he
was jerked off. He felt his body invaded by two slick fingers that worked in
and out of him slowly. They plunged into him deeper, striking something within
him that nearly made him his mind shut down. He tried not to make a sound,
biting his lip in the process. Drops of red spread across the white sheets, but
it helped ground him back to reality. For about five seconds.
Iason watched the way the man resisted giving into the pleasure that had to
be all but monumental on the young virgin body. He watched the way the sublime
back had stiffened and arched when he had plunged deeper for a few seconds. The
way the muscles writhed and contorted was lovely. He continued working the
young man quickly while his free hand loosened his trousers. He pressed himself
against the slick entrance, letting the man feel his intention and giving him a
mere moment to decide.
"This is the only chance you have to say 'no'," he spoke quietly.
Begging might have been preferential sometimes, but Iason wanted to see Katse
surrender. To willingly give his body without pleas or threats. He smiled when
he saw he wouldn't be disappointed.
When Katse felt the pressure of something much larger than a gloved finger,
he knew what waited for him. In the mild numbness the Blondie's fingers had
given his entrance, he bowed his head, the only indication he could give for
his agreement. He wanted fire in his nerves again. He wanted the man's hands
touching him once more. He laid his body open for the taking, hoping somewhere
in the back of his mind that this wouldn't be the only time the Blondie touched
him this way. 'Make me yours,' a voice whispered in his mind, 'make me yours
and take me; break me if you have to, but make me yours.'
Air pressed itself from his lungs in time with the intrusion into his body.
The low moan felt as fluid as the feeling of being filled from behind. He
dropped to his elbows, arching his back as a cat would stretch while the slow
assault continued.
'Too much, it's too much!' Katse's hands clenched in front of his face, and
he bit the knuckle of his thumb as the overwhelming sensation bordered on
unbearable pain. Suddenly it wasn't as wrenching, and he let out a gasp at the
fullness his body embraced. His knees bent slightly, allowing the Blondie to
slide in deeper. A whisper ghosted over his ear as the taller man bent over
him.
"Now, Katse. Remember this when you see what you cannot touch. Remember
this when you gaze on bodies that can do what you cannot. This is what you're
giving up."
"I don't understand-"
"Silence, mongrel," Iason growled irritated. Despite affording the
young man a pleasure that would bring him solace as well as pain when he
remembered, it didn't mean that his gift lowered him to the mongrel's station.
This was as much a test for the man as it was a minor pleasure for Iason. One way
or another, Katse would be his.
Slowly, he pulled himself partway out before sliding deeper once more. He
let his body speak for him in what the mongrel could expect from the act, and
allowed himself a small smile at the way Katse nodded. He let himself push
their bodies further than what a virgin would be used to. He rode Katse hard,
his fingers held the slim hips in a crushing grip that already left dark pink
traces of new bruises. Every moan Katse loosed brought the desire to bring them
to a higher plateau, and Iason worked them toward that plane swiftly.
The rhythmic pummeling of flesh into flesh broke through the last barrier
Katse had to resisting. His fists balled tightly in front of him, and he buried
his face into the clean sheet. Every breath felt pushed from his body rather
than exhaled as though the Blondie regulated his every function, and perhaps
for those moments he did. With his face buried in the newly crumpled sheet,
Katse buried the groans and cries that wanted to beg the Blondie for his name,
his name, his name, and a future with him.
'I won't give it up, I won't give him up, I won't, I won't- ah, it hurts!'
Katse cried out at the pain that plunged into his midsection. He rose on all
fours unsteadily while he tried to work through the maddening sensations that
told him pain while the rest of his body screamed from the pleasure. The tight
ball released itself, and Katse felt his seed spurt onto the clean sheets.
Around his vision, he saw the long strands of blond hair cover him, adding to
the heat that covered his body in a sheen of sweat. If he looked behind him, he
knew he'd see the Blondie's face right next to his head. A hand covered his,
and he felt the man on top of him use the additional leverage to plunge deeper.
If his mind had any doubts of feeling that explosive ecstasy again, it
shattered when his body convulsed under another orgasm, leaving a haunting pain
in its wake. His voice ripped itself from his throat in the shreds of a broken
cry. He wanted to collapse, he wanted to be broken again.
Iason watched the torment the young man endured in knowing the pleasure of
this act. He plunged himself into the body again, filling it with his essence,
and marking the man as his. Katse, he knew, wouldn't disappoint him when it
came to the occasional bouts of coupling that Iason indulged in. He reached
around to the man's front, a ring glistening in his hand. He let his hand feel
the softened flesh with familiarity as it slowly slipped the ring up the shaft.
Before he seated it in place, he thought he heard a sob from the man as he
collapsed onto the bed. The tears of an unsuspecting virgin he had expected, of
course. Yet that moment of sorrow gave him pause, and he pulled the ring free
before he attached it. He rolled the man over, regarding the unconscious form
without expression. He didn't want to hear it, but he had to know. Lifting
Katse's head, Iason murmured softly.
"Will you remember what you're giving up, Katse?"
Katse groaned through the haze that invited him deeper. "Won't give
up," he managed groggily. His eyes half-opened to see the Blondie holding
him close. He reached up to touch the Blondie's lips as exhaustion claimed him.
"Won't give you up," he moaned thickly before blacking out. Iason's
eyes widened as he noticed the hold Katse had on his neck. He dropped Katse
back to the bed. The slumbering form lay sprawled and broken; he'd broken the
boy; laid claim to the exquisite body, and had inadvertently laid claim to the
boy's heart. Katse would be useless as a Pet, and a frown pulled at his lips at
the realization..
Pocketing the ring, Iason cleaned himself with the sheets. He dressed
himself quickly and left the slumbering Katse in the dark of his dreams. When
the young man awoke, he'd know for certain the path to take. He ordered the man
brought to his estate, and he'd finalize his selection, he told the trader. The
trader had said nothing. Being the golden son gave Iason greater liberties than
any other Blondie. It was, perhaps, one of the few reasons he indulged, however
rarely, in privileges outside what the other Blondies did. Let them have their
society parties and evenings of watching their Pets perform. Iason's tastes
were more refined.
He brushed a few errant strands of hair away from Katse's forehead. The
young man moaned for a moment, leaning into the warm touch before subsiding.
No, he decided as he strode from the room. A Pet with feelings toward him had
no place in his home. He'd give Katse two choices when he awoke - follow his
original path of becoming a Furniture, or have one more night with him before
being sent back to Ceres, defeated.
He fervently hoped that Katse would choose the latter and save him the
aggravation of keeping a firm reign on his heart. Even so, the look over his
shoulder told him that at least part of him felt otherwise.
Katse.
Katse fought the fog that enveloped his mind. It pulled him back into its
murky depths while offering him a taste of the pain that racked his body. He
groaned, hearing the thick sound that seemed to sink him deeper into the
darkness.
Katse.
His body didn't want to move, too sore to do anything more than offer a mild
twitch to signal that life remained in his body. The air loosened the tight
hold it had on his chest, and Katse could smell... flesh. However, it was skin
that wasn't his.
"Katse. Wake up."
Long fingers pulled gently through his short hair, and Katse groaned at the
touch. It was familiar somehow, and something he wanted more of. His head
turned toward the hand as it retreated from him.
"I said wake up, Katse."
More forceful than before, it dared to be defied. Katse opened his eyes
slowly, his mind reeling with the simple desire to sink back into
unconsciousness until his body was better prepared to deal with its abuse. Yet
the voice was one that wouldn't be denied, and Katse obeyed.
Above him, Iason literally towered over him on the bed. He lay on a large
bed covered in smooth, silky sheets and a thin grey coverlet. Iason's body was
next to his, his long blond hair tickling the flesh of Katse's bare chest.
Moments ticked by and Iason waited patiently while the memories clicked back
into Katse's mind. His lips wanted to twitch into a smile when Katse's eyes
widened in surprise and he looked up into Iason's dominant gaze.
"Do you remember," he asked simply.
"Yes," Katse replied as he sat up. "I remember... but I still
don't understand."
Iason held up a silver ring, bare of decoration, though it was obvious what
it was. "Do you know what this is?" Shock rippled over Katse's face
and he instinctively glanced down to see if a similar ring enslaved him. He was
still free.
"Yes," Katse repeated when he'd recovered. "Everyone knows
what a Pet ring looks like." He wondered if Iason felt anything like what
he'd felt in being taken. When his mind and body were at their weakest and
demanded Iason fill his heart as much as he filled Katse's body.
Iason watched Katse intently, his own face impassive as he nuzzled Katse's
ear. "It could be yours." The hand holding the ring slid down Katse's
body, singing the shiny metal down flesh toward Katse's penis. The echo of
metal against flesh hadn't abated before Katse's breath caught.
'He wants me as his Pet.'
"I-" he stopped. He what? Wanted to spend a few years in Iason's
keep, licking his boots to be pleasured by the Blondie at his whim? To be
discarded when he reached an age where Pets weren't kept anymore? Did he really
want to spend a few years of his life in the man's shadow pretending that what
they did was love? He'd spent his life keeping himself free of the gangs that
ruled Ceres, and in a single night he had been tempted to believe in love and
cast away everything. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. He
wanted, yes, he desired so much. He tentatively held a hand toward Iason,
hoping the gesture of affection would be returned.
"I have no need of your touch," Iason reminded him before Katse's
hand touched his cheek. He watched coldly as a fleeting emotion flitted across
Katse's face. The man seemed confused and conflicted on what he should do.
Iason watched the man mull over his options, his heart obviously desiring
something his mind hadn't succumbed to just yet. No, he didn't need Katse's
touch; no Blondie needed the touch of a Pet, let alone a mongrel.
Finally, Katse's head rose to meet the frigid glare with an equally cool
expression. "How do I serve you?"
'Good,' Iason mentally nodded. "Follow me," he ordered, rising
from the bed. He walked at a slightly slower pace than what he normally would,
taking into account Katse's previous exertions. Down the hall, a doctor waited
in front of a door. He smiled at Iason as they approached, giving him a quick
bow before he opened the door. Without hesitation, Iason led them through it to
a brightly lit room. "Lay there." He pointed to a thin bed, and Katse
complied.
He turned to leave, pausing before he reached the door. He returned, and
knelt by the bed. He could see the fear Katse kept under control as he waited.
He touched a cool hand to Katse's flushed forehead. "I'll be back to check
on you later," he advised quietly. No expression betrayed what he felt,
yet Katse smiled.
"Thank you."
"Iason."
"Thank you, Iason."
Weeks passed as Katse adjusted to a life as Iason's Furniture. The days
weren't bad at all, caring for Iason's various Pets, but the nights were often
haunted by nightmares of that fateful day and his one moment of copulation.
With the loss of the organs that held the memory of that day, Katse felt as
though the doctors had robbed him of the exquisite memory as well. It was with
a somewhat despondent disposition that he had walked into Iason's room without
changing his expression to one of neutrality. Iason, he saw, immediately
noticed and motioned him over. On the floor, a pair of Pets fondled each other,
both looking mildly frustrated that Iason wouldn't allow further contact than
their hands. But they weren't abused Pets, and they continued the
ministrations.
"Sit with me," Iason offered, gesturing to the low arm of his
chair. Katse hesitated; Iason had never before asked him to watch the Pets in
his keep copulate. It was always tidier to simply gather them and clean them
when Iason was finished with them. Obediently, he sat on the arm of the chair
and watched the Pets begin Iason's newest direction of intercourse.
"Tell me, Katse," Iason murmured over the low groaning emitting
from the floor. Katse shook his head to clear it; he'd been thinking of the
chores that came after Iason finished with the two young men rather than
watching their show.
"Yes?"
He gasped as he felt a hand snake around his waist. It rested on his hip for
only a moment before sliding into the valley of his legs, stroking the place
that had once housed his penis. Only an odd conglomeration of twisted flesh
made up what it had once been; completely removed at Iason's command.
"Do you remember? When you look at their bodies now, do you remember
what you gave up?" The fingers pressed deeper, imitating what might have
been light pumping had the fingers something to grasp. Katse jerked away from
the touch, subsiding when he felt a hand grip his elbow. All emotion drained
from his face, and he let Iason fondle him in time with the top boy's thrusts.
He could feel the pressure of the touch, he could feel the heat that the
friction caused, yet he felt nothing of the ecstasy that the two Pets drove
themselves to in front of him. A piece of memory flitted to the surface of his
mind, yet it mocked him and fled. He wanted to say yes, to claim he remembered
what he'd given up. A piece of flesh that no longer dictated his heart.
"No," he replied coldly, the lie frozen in his too wide stare.
Iason stopped stroking him, the same indifferent expression on his face. He
went back to watching the two Pets finish their show with Katse by his side. In
that moment, Katse hated him more than anything in the world. He wanted to hurt
the man as he'd been hurt. He wanted to take away that cold stare if it meant
he had one more chance in the man's arms as he had for a single day.
"Get rid of them," Iason suddenly spoke. "I don't want them
anymore."
The two Pets looked back at them, yet they didn't stop their frenzied act.
Katse watched Iason leave beneath the cloak of that same maddening arrogance.
Two more Pets to trade for new toys for Iason's pleasure. Two more when Iason
had already gone through a dozen since Katse had been his Furniture. He looked
at the two forlorn Pets; beautiful specimens of young men who had become part
of the select Pets that Iason had first bid on.
All the Pets that came and went, yet Katse remained by his side. The realization
struck him, and he knew the lie he gave was the answer Iason wanted to hear.
That in its utterance, Iason remained ensconced in Katse's heart, the presence
of each a painful reminder to the other. In one, an affection forbidden by
Jupiter's will and a constant test of his loyalty. In the other, a passion
forged into memory that would never again be reality. Discarded, while Katse
remained by his side forever unable to offer more than his mere presence and a
memory.
*just because it comes from the mind of a wacko, doesn't necessarily mean
it's insane*
- 1
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Sacrificial