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At the Feet of the Master

Posted: Thu Feb 22, 2024 8:43 pm
by Rivin
69 Ash, 123

The Lysanrin youth inhaled slow and deep, pulling the city into himself through his keen nose. He was alive.

Whether gods were watching out for him or not, two mages were. A friend and a mentor, though they were each both, really. Their roles blended and, of late, both diffused further into more than friends only, teachers only, into something at one boarder and more specific.

The Air had been cold for more than a year without yielding to the heat of Glade or Searing but Rivin was used to cold climes and knew how to bundle to keep himself warm even when he spent his nights atop the highest peaked roofs of the city.

Often he ran them alone, on business either his own or Aurin's, but tonight he was meeting the redheaded Magus. He was not the man's priority, and that was right, but they had a bargain between them, one written onto and carved into his flesh. He was to receive lessons in exchange for labor. Many types of lessons, many types of labor, but all of them willing, from his side. The Magus certainly did not seem to chafe at their arrangement and Rivin was careful not to ask for more than was his due. Tonight he had a new request, a slight loosening of the leash which he had readily placed around his own throat.

He had been training his Traversion only under the watchful copper eyes of his master since he had received it, and had not complained. The new magic was very different from that of Summoning and the guidance had kept him from dangerous mistakes and the panic he sometimes found himself falling into.

Now though, now he wanted to go somewhere he should not. Somewhere he was not welcome, at least. He could get there by subterfuge with Aurin's aid, walk in with a new face, a set of forged, or even legitimate papers, but that was not what Rivin wanted.

He wanted to get inside without permission, to be there in the darkness, to seek what he wished to know with no one the wiser. If he was denied he would wait, it was no reason to break his oaths, but he wanted it. So, he waited, patient, still and silent as the statues he crouched among atop the church to a god he hadn't bothered to learn the name of. Aurin would find him, he always would now.

Re: At the Feet of the Master

Posted: Wed Feb 28, 2024 5:50 pm
by Aurin
Aurin had ways of communicating with his people, whether they were under the aegis of Portions for Foxes or not. He had been traveling a great deal, wanting to reclaim little Arry, his golden dragon prince, wanting to stir up shit in the Imperium because chaos was a ladder, and wanting to play saviour to the witches and profiting off of the coalescing government of Zaichaer. Now that the pathways were set in the slipspace for him, it wasn't so great an effort to travel anymore, but he was still burning the candle at both ends. Perhaps that was why he couldn't seem to put on an ounce of healthy weight, why his jaw was as sharp as his smirks, his ribs as defined as a starving man's.

His apprentice had an appointment with him, and Aurin followed the thaumaturgical entanglement, strengthened by the pretty elf's sygaldry, and found him on the warp and weft of the slipspace. The Lysanrin had made a wise choice in master, for his "trick" had so advanced that he could launch himself from point to point without traveling through space with such precision, that there was barely a tremble in the slipspace nearby, and then he was upon him, arms closing. One took the crouching servant around the chest, and the other around the neck.

Coppery skin smelled of burnt sand and exotic spices, and an amused voice murmured hot breath against his ear.

"You summoned me," he stated, a smirk audible if not visible, "apprentice?"

Rivin was so worried about his former master, Aurin enjoyed showing him how quickly his new master could find him, claim him, and - it was implied - protect him.

And then they shifted as one. Rivin felt something as they passed through the wards embracing Torin's secret basement, but from within, he could not sense the larger slipspace. But the space smelled of earth, stone, metal, magic, Torin, and Aurin. It was a safe space. Safe or not, Aurin spun him about like they were dancing, the arm around his neck becoming a hand gently, but firmly pinning him to the wall by his throat.

The smirk was visible now. The bronze fox played jackal in Atraxian palaces.

"Have you been a good boy?" he asked, eyes critical, searching. The contract was binding, but he gave his apprentice quite a bit of leeway, all things told. It was probably terrible how Rivin's respect made him swing his metaphorical dick around, but it made him "the Magus," and that was who Rivin needed him to be.

Re: At the Feet of the Master

Posted: Tue Mar 12, 2024 3:43 pm
by Rivin
The arms closing around him were startling but not frightening. Lack of touch had been the plague of his raising, not violence. The apprentice's skin knew the touch of his master on some fundamental level, as though it had been Aurin's name that had been carved into him rather than his rune. This had not always been the case, the change had come with the initiation and while it had been unexpected, it was not unwelcome anymore than the touch currently was.

A hand came to wrap around the wrist that was pressing into his throat but it wasn't an objection so much as an acknowledgement.

"I did," He murmured in his accented Common, "Thank you."

Grey eyes shifted blue as they closed, the better to feel the slip space around them as they moved together. His own ability was currently limited to little jumps to spaces he could see, and he only did so in the presence and with the permission of his master despite how very badly he had wanted to disappear and reappear with every step as soon as he'd figured out how. Longer trips through the slip stream were always Aurin's, but this did not stop the Lysanrin from feeling it move around him, growing to know it as one grew to know the body of a sexual partner by touch. They passed through something different, something new, but then they were back in normal space with all its distracting sensations.

The place they were now seemed to be a large room with a variety of supplies on shelves to one side, otherwise empty. There were a few doors that led out of the room and a set of stairs leading up but no windows. The feel of the place, earthy, heavy, told Rivin that they were underground but this knowledge made him, if anything, more comfortable. He was spun and pressed against the wall, his neck wrapped in the redhead's strong hand. The positioning made him wonder what sort of lesson he was about to receive, but, so far, he had wanted, if not specifically requested, all that he was being taught.

The answer to the question was easy,

"No, I have not. I have broken into six noble houses, stolen from them in formation with my eyes and my ears." This he said almost stoically, but a glint of a grin showed in the low light when he added, "In none of them was I caught, and none know."

Knowing there was more to the question than an inquiry into his burgeoning forays into burgling he continued,

"I have not made use of the Traversion since you have left." He tried to keep the disgruntlement at this from his voice, for it was not Aurin's rules that irritated him. They were needed, they would keep him safe, but he longed to slip through reality at all times he was awake now and having to wait, however correct, tugged at him.

The last thing he would do, however, was anything to jeopardize his relationship with the man who would teach him, even if, confusingly, there was a part of him that wanted the harshness of punishment. He had always hated feeling The Doctor's displeasure, genuinely lived in terror of it, but it had been part of a system that he understood all the parts of. He did not know how it would go if Aurin became displeased with him and while that made him feel unsafe in one way, it was not something he was willing to risk what he currently had to know.

Re: At the Feet of the Master

Posted: Thu Mar 28, 2024 6:36 pm
by Aurin
Aurin sembled him as he reported, verifying his statements. He smirked at the discontent; as long as he was obeyed, that was all that mattered. He leaned in close, scenting the Lysanrin. His hand didn't cut off blood- or airflow, but he liked the thump of heartbeat against his skin. This was a living creature who belonged to him.

"Blink out of my grip, behind me, pull a blade from my person, and hold it to my kidney before I stop you," he ordered. After the first few simple tests, Aurin liked to give him practice in a form that ought to become instinct over time. His apprentice was going to be even more slippery when he was done with him, and he figured Rivin would like to know he could wriggle out of his old master's grasp and turn the tables on him with little to no effort.

The element of surprise was always important.

But he smiled—in his Aurin Kavafis way—and added, "Then tell me a secret from one of the noble houses. If you are successful and your secret is good, I will teach you something new. If you fail or your secret is worthless, I will bend you over and spank you. Positive reinforcement for good work, negative reinforcement for bad work. Then you will be a good boy even when you are doing bad things.

"Do you understand, apprentice?"

His grip tightened a bit around Rivin's throat, still not to a dangerous extent, but it underscored his words.

Re: At the Feet of the Master

Posted: Wed Apr 17, 2024 10:14 pm
by Rivin
The tiny glint of a grin over the Lysanrin's face blossomed into full, sharp joy just before he disappeared.

The world shifted, it took no time, yet, somehow, there was time for thought. The sort of thoughts that traveled faster than consciousness but the thought of doing exactly this was what had filled his every waking moment for months. When Rivin could not sleep he did not lay away and fear the Doctor anymore, now, he drifted the slipstream. Not with his body, not without explicit permission, but with his mind. Eyes open, he examined whatever space he was in until he felt like it was in him, just as much as he was in it. There was no difference.

He could not have explained what that knowing meant if he had been required to, and this irked him. Aether was science as much as any other form of energy, his lack of ability to explain how and why were a failing on his part.

So, even in this new space, he was able to find the lines that made up all things and when he blinked behind the Magus, he also hitched one of the knives he had felt under the man's clothes as they had pressed close to vault together. Thus, when he appeared, near enough to instantly that it made no matter, the blade was in his hand, its hilt pressed to Aurin's back.

The swear words, in his ancient native language, hissing out from between blue-tinged lips were almost entirely born of annoyance in his mistake rather than the pain of the razor sharp edge of the knife cutting into his palm and fingers. The Magus would know before he turned to look and there was no hiding the spilling of his blood. Not that Rivin would have tried, praise not earned was a worthless commodity. How could one learn if their teacher did not know of their mistakes?

Due to the circumstances the secret that came to his mind was quite specific and he gritted out,

"The heir to House Dahshida has an attraction to having his blood drawn, or to watching others endure the same. It is to the point that servants in his house are, at times, worried for him."

Re: At the Feet of the Master

Posted: Wed Apr 24, 2024 6:35 pm
by Aurin
Aurin's back disappeared as he blinked, replaced by his hand around the hilt of his own blade, his arms once more encircling his apprentice. With very little added pressure, he held the blade the Lysanrin's belly, the point painful to his flesh, but not parting it—at least, not the skin of his belly; Rivin's fumble had already cut open his hand.

"Solid blink," he said into Rivin's ear, "sloppy hitch, and interesting secret." His voice caressed the word interesting even as his breath caressed his peaked, blue-tinged ears. "Kudos for attempting the hitch when I only required you use your trick to blink."

He pulled the blade out of Rivin's hand and, his face still haunting next to the other's, he licked it clean of blood. Wiping his spittle dry across Rivin's side, he re-sheathed the blade, took him by the nape of the neck, and hauled him over where Aurin could take a seat upon a crate of unknown provenance. Bending Rivin over his knee, he carefully undid the button that closed the waist of his trousers while allowing a slit for his tail, he yanked them down and down until they were around Rivin's ankles.

"Unfortunately for you and for all of us... an ambitious, albeit sloppy hitch made you unsuccessful, and now I know you have secrets to spare. Your spanking will last until you share another secret, but..." The sharpness of the word contrasted with the soft contact of a warm hand to Rivin's bare buttocks. "...you need to prove you can hold onto your Magus' secrets. They belong to him, not to you.

"Do you understand, apprentice?"

His hand tightened around the nape of Rivin's neck, in a way that almost hurt, but was more reminiscent of some wild animal carrying its young to safety.

Re: At the Feet of the Master

Posted: Mon May 20, 2024 6:14 pm
by Rivin
Rivin blinked wide, color saturated eyes up at the Magus when the man 'turned' to face him. The knife pressed to his vital organs did not register as nearly as dangerous as the other aspects of his fox-faced teacher. The man had been terrifying from the moment they had met, it was a simple and accepted fact of their relationship now. The knife, while worth some consideration in case the Magus direct him to move it again, was never going to be what he feared from him.

The rasp of the tongue against the blade was so wholly unexpected that the Lysanrin stared down at it, fascinated more than horrified, but not lacking in either. The Heir to House Dahshida would have been straining against his breeches had he been able to observe. When Aurin moved him, he went, not limply, but accepting the change in position with more curiosity than anything. No shame appeared in his aura when he was laid across the man's lap. At least, no new shame, there were still linger wisps from his failed hitch. Even when he was laid bare from waist to ankles, the curiosity and interest in this new form of lesson only increased. Nudity had never bothered him and the possibility of pain, with this teacher, would certainly be something to learn from.

His ears literally pricked as he listened with all his attention, bleeding hand forgotten. At first, he did not understand, and thus did not answer right away. The turning of the clockwork of his mind was palpable as he ran the words through it several times until their meaning was fully comprehended. Even knowing that this lesson would be intentionally unpleasant, it was still a fascinating idea. Endurance was something he had learned very young, but enduring to a specific purpose, one other than simple survival, was a fascinating new concept.

Nodding with what might have been seen as an odd amount of enthusiasm he said,

"Yes, Magus, I understand." He considered warning his master about the red eyed being the lurked in his brain but he had done so already, in the past and did not suspect that Aurin forgot important things.

Re: At the Feet of the Master

Posted: Tue May 21, 2024 2:29 pm
by Aurin
"Good," he grunted, and then he slapped bare blue ass. It stung, but didn't hurt--not really. "This will end when you give up another secret." The reiteration was a reminder as he wove a bubble of warding against sound around them so the impact of skin on skin would not be heard, nor would any protestations or conversation, or secrets.

Slap.

It had occurred to Aurin that Rivin might be a prime subject to practice true torture upon. He didn't enjoy torture, not in the way some did. But it was a tool in his arsenal, and he knew it could be an art and a science. While he didn't want to hone his skills to the point where he made a point of practicing, but with Rivin's particular background, he might want to learn how to endure from experience and with his own agency, rather than how his previous master had treated him.

Slap.

Aurin was a master class in the idea of cruel to be kind, and he could imagine using the sharpest of physic's scalpels to practice doing as little damage while causing as much pain as possible. It made his blood run cold, but not from fear--rather, his mind became almost reptilian, or more akin to Rivin's clinical outlook. Rivin was a strange beast, but a greater part of why Aurin invested so much time and energy into him was a resonance, a recognition of similarities between them. The relationship was professional and utilitarian, while also being what most would consider something else entirely.

Slap.

He focused his mind back on the present. This too was a practice in torture, albeit a more intimate one. Rivin's cheeks were flushed a darker blue, and Aurin found that comely. The cold in his veins thawed. This was the sort of torture that could arouse him. While he was prepared for anything, he was also curious how Sivan's binding would work on the unnamed demon, whether he could force it out of hiding only to be tangled up in magical precautions. It would be important to know the limits of that cage; no cage could hold a demon forever.

Slap.

"No more secrets to share?" he teased.

Re: At the Feet of the Master

Posted: Mon Jul 01, 2024 6:45 pm
by Rivin
The Lysanrin found himself in a conundrum. The hitting was unpleasant but barely more than that, if it continued it would become more unpleasant but unless it changed greatly, it would never become beyond his ability to endure. His master had instructed him to give up another secret. His master had instructed him not to part with it easily.

These two factors were not enough to know what was wanted of him. If he kept his silence till the pain became enough to possibly draw the red into his eyes then he wouldn't be able to give up a secret, failing the first mandate. If he did not endure as much pain as possible he would be failing the second.

As the heat in his backside grew (his tail held up and to the side so as not to be in the way) he wondered if he was failing by concentrating so hard on trying to untangle the puzzle he was presented enough that he was not giving proper attention to the punishment. Punishment was intended to teach and he had asked, begged, to be taught by the Magus.

The world outside the careful confined of a laboratory was a confusing and always contradictory place. This lesson was obviously attempting to teach him how to consolidate some of those contradictions, wasn't it? Perhaps it was intended to simply force him to come to decisions when presented with such contradictions. Any choice he made could be wrong, but that was always true. He was bound in service, contractually and magically. The worst that could come of making the wrong choice was the Magus choosing to kill him as neither of them could otherwise exit their obligations. It was a much safer place to be than where he had been, at risk of losing his instruction with each incorrect choice.

Wiggling a little he tried to see Aurin but, unless he broke out of his position he couldn't really do so. He might open a small portal through which he could see the human's face but if he did so he could block his master's view of his target. Hm.

"I would not give up secrets you have," He winced as the next blow fell, and the next, breathing slowly to try and keep his tone even, "instructed me to keep. I would also not keep from you secrets you have told me to reveal. I must conclude that you wish to test my endurance and wish to prove it to you."

As he said this he noticed that there was something there, in the concept, that he... liked? The word was not exactly correct but the position? No, holding the position himself, so the Magus could hurt him, moved into a part of his brain that felt not 'good' but satisfying. A part of him wanted it in a way he hadn't recognized before but it also felt like an old way. He would have to spend time later analyzing the origin and application. Perhaps he could ask the Magus to include some sort of unpleasant endurance in their future interrogations.

Re: At the Feet of the Master

Posted: Tue Jul 02, 2024 2:54 pm
by Aurin
"If you were caught by your old master..."

Slap.

"Or someone hostile to me..."

Slap.

"Pain might be applied..."

Slap.

"To loosen your lips..."

Slap.

"To offer leniency for your betrayal."

No slap fell, but rather he rested his hand upon the bare skin, the warmth in his palm seeking the warmth of the blood rushing toward the surface on Rivin as well. It broke the rhythm, or else it was part of a larger rhythm.

"I wonder how much you would endure for me." Now he caressed that skin he had recently abused. "I wonder how much you could endure for me." His hand moved similarly to when he was helping the Lysanrin release sexual frustrations, but not quite the same. That was not his aim, though he knew Rivin would not deny him if he demanded use of his body even when those frustrations hadn't built up a pressure within his cold-blooded apprentice. "Perhaps you plan to be rid of me someday. Perhaps you will be. But I consider you a long-term investment. There will always be more that you can learn from me, and so you might always be my apprentice."

His hand tightened around Rivin's tail, his sembling trick searching, curious if there would be some primal reaction to that. Aurin had a knob at the base of his spine, but it was hardly a tail. There must be some psychology surrounding a limb he didn't have that he couldn't necessarily intuit.

"You might always be mine."

He paused once more, relaxing his grip, though he tugged, examining his apprentice with a critical eye.

"And so I must know your limits. I must know how secure my secrets will be when I allow them into the lockbox of your mind."

Slap.

Harder now.

Slap.

Faster too.

Slap.

"I enjoy this..."

Slap.

"Hurting you..."

Slap.

"Safely..."

Slap.

"Finding your edges and your boundaries..."

Slap.

"Soon nobody will know you better than your Magus."

Slap.

"Won't that be nice?"

Slap.

"And when we have learned as much as we can from this..."

Slap.

"Perhaps we will test you against other torments..." It probably ought to have worried Rivin that the man's voice sounded excited by that prospect.