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At no point had Emet-Selch actually discussed their arrangement, as two men willing to actually admit they had a relationship might do. He simply swanned in as he pleased and made overtures to the Crystal Exarch, and the Exarch could either deny them or do his best to ad lib.
(The Exarch almost never denied him.)
He probably could have told the Ascian to stop the entire affair. The Ascian might even have listened.
(Maybe he wouldn't. The Exarch tried not to let that thought arouse him.)
Despite knowing how easily these trysts left them open to sabotage that could ruin centuries or eons of careful planning, they again and again fell into each others' arms. For all that they stood on different sides of a war so long, so massive, so complicated that even the Exarch himself could not fully comprehend its scale, they both shared a bone deep loneliness. And perhaps, though the Exarch was loathe to accept it, a shared fondness for drama as well.
"You and your kind came by the Allaghan Eye through conjuring, as I understand it" Emet-Selch was running his fingers over the Exarch's closed eyelid, pressing just firmly enough against it to make the danger known but not enough to cause pain. "Not through something as crass as having it bred into you. Shame. If your ancestors were anything as debauched as you are, they'd be begging for the chance to be some Allaghan noble's lap pet."
"Is that how you see me?" the Exarch said quietly, his own fingers tracing the delicate lines of Emet-Selch's cheekbones. "Your lap pet, Emperor?" His other eye was half open, watching the way Emet-Selch's lips twisted in disdain at the use of his title.
"Hmph." The fingers against his eyelid moved upwards, pushing his hood back and gripping at the roots of the Exarch's hair. "Hardly, you're a feral and warped thing like all the rest. A mere beast." He ran his fingertips down the shard of scintillating blue that marred the Exarch's cheek. "But all that glinting crystal on you would have made you quite the prized commodity during my last Empire."
Emet-Selch snapped his fingers and suddenly the cool air of the Umbilicus shocked the Exarch's skin into goosepebbles as his clothes vanished. In Emet-Selch's hand was a collar, scarlet and black with a round magitek device in place of a brooch. The device's display lights were glowing like tiny sapphires.
"Bend," Emet-Selch ordered. With polite grace the Exarch lowered his head to accept the collar's embrace, even curling one leg as if he were delivering a formal bow. He knew what the collar was - even if he weren't already a scholar of Allag before his ascendency, he'd seen enough of the tower's technology to recognize such a cruel creation.
Emet-Selch's gloved fingers ran over the bumps of the Exarch's first few vertebrae, sending shivers all the way down his spine to the rising fur of his tail.
"A neurolink collar at full capacity would turn you into no more than my puppet, you know," Emet-Selch gloated, pulling the Exarch's head up by his greying hair again and extracting a gasp of arousal and pain from him. "A body as fully responsive to my commands as any drone. But it's more fun when I can see you trying so hard to pretend you don't adore this."
The Exarch tried to respond and felt a sudden twinge at his throat, a warp and press that felt like he'd swallowed too large a bite of food. When he tried to speak again only soft mewls came out, to Emet-Selch's smug pleasure.
"We've had enough of your monotonous attempts at pompous, defiant statements, I think," Emet-Selch said, patting his ear condescendingly. "But I will have your moans regardless, my pet."
Emet-Selch rose, taking the Exarch with him as he did so with one hand still clenched in his hair. The Exarch felt the delicious tremors of terror quake through him - not the despair and dread he battled on a daily basis, that nearly crippled him on his worse days, but sharp and exciting fear. This man was utterly untrustworthy, with aons of manipulation and cruelty behind him. And that, sadly, was part of the appeal of letting Emet-Selch use him at will…the rare moments he could put his burdens down and let himself be used.
"Stand, pet."
The Exarch let out a pliant mewl as Emet-Selch removed his gloves and ran bare fingers down his chest, across where flesh met azure stone laced through with gold latticework. "All this crystal, but you're still warm and wet in the places it matters. Open."
The Exarch let his jaw go slack, widening as Emet-Selch's fingers quested inside, pressing until they hit the back of his throat.. So many of his body's functions had been taken from him by the tower - hunger, fatigue, aging.
Gag reflex.
Another snap and they were suddenly on the floor, their weight cushioned by an abruptly manifesting pile of velvet pillows. Emet-Selch was clad now in ample red robes that the Exarch hadn't seen since his Studium days, and then only as archeological reconstructions based on carvings and corpses. Strings of gold chains hung from Emet-Selch's neck and curved around the round shell of his ear, his fingers were adorned with fillagreed rings. His trousers were gone, leaving his erect cock framed by the plush red fabric of the pillows.
"Down, pet."
The Exarch drew in a shaky breath and crawled on hands and knees to get his face into position. His lips parted, delicate and careful, but before he could decide on an angle of descent Emet-Selch's hand had slammed onto the back of his head and forced him all the way down to the root in one movement.
"I said down. Know your place, my elegant toy."
The degrading monologue continued onward but the Exarch couldn't hear it over the rushing of blood in his ears, the insistant throbbing of his erection against the pillows. His attempts to relieve himself were met with a swat to his side, and the sound of snapped fingers preluded the abrupt sensation of metal loops manifesting around his cock and sac. The abrupt coldness of it made swallow hard by reflex, and Emet let out a debauched groan.
"For all your pretty crystal, you really are just a brute beast," Emet-Selch mused. "And beasts must be leashed and muzzled. Your cock is as much mine as the rest of you, and what it does is my business alone."
A faint burst of humming vibrations left the Exarch whining against Emet-Selch's spit-slick member, giving the Ascian all the more opportunity to plunge deeper into the Exarch's warm mouth. As he bobbed the Exarch realized the pattern - drawing his head up left him assailed by teasing vibrations without relief that only stopped once his master's cock was fully contained within him. Stark conditioning for a pet who was to be trained for one very specific set of needs.
By the time Emet-Selch had his fill of the Exarch's mouth there were tears at the corners of his scarlet eyes. Emet-Selch leaned in and delicately flicked one away with his tongue, as if even the inconsolable state of the Exarch's nerve endings belonged to him.
A snap of his fingers, and a small bottle appeared in the Exarch's hand. Emet-Selch lounged back into the pile of pillows, looking every bit the regal Emperor save for his glistening wet erection bobbing in the air before him. The Exarch worked his sore jaw and coughed.
"You know what to do with it by now. And do make a show of it, won't you? I don't have you here just to not look at you."
The Exarch mewled his agreement,like a pliant and adoring coeurl kitten. He reared back, legs falling apart to expose his hole. The Ascian's eyes burned as he watched the Exarch fingering himself open, the barest tip of his tongue cycling across his stern lips. There was a hunger there that could consume the Exarch whole, and if not for his mission he'd welcome such destruction.
His mission. Hells, he didn't want to think about the Warrior now, or the future, or his own true nature. The Exarch threw his head back and forced his mind into his role just as he forced his fingers deep into his body. Just a pet, just a servant, just a warm set of openings for his master to use at will. His hips jerked as his fingers plunged deeper, tail lashing, ears tucked back tight, his yowls echoing off the Umbilicus walls.
"Enough."
The ornate Allaghan noble's robes were shredded into tatters as Emet-Selch leapt upon him. His hands came down on the Exarch's wrists, pinning him backwards with his legs still spread.
"You are mine. You are mine," his sharp voice hissed, and in that moment the Exarch could see right through him. The Exarch was not the only one who ached for a lover long gone, who craved that which he could not touch. The Exarch could at least pity such a state...he was not yet sure if he could empathize. Not after how how he'd fought to keep even more blood off Emet-Selch's hands.
But none of that, now. Let him be owned and let that be the end of it.
The sharp jerk of the Ascian's cock thrusting into him terminated that line of thinking. The Exarch threw back his head and screeched like an amaro as Emet-Selch pounded into him, breathless half-insults tumbling from his lips. Pet, slut, slave, degrading this pathetic wretch for finding the horrors of the past a fertile ground for his debauched fetishes. What a blessing that his master had removed any need for his pet to reply to the accurations, and the ability besides.
A hand grazed across the Exarch's belly - pne more hand than there should have been in the mix, but who cared to count. "A shame this isn't crystal, that I can't see the gifts I give you filling you to the brim," Emet-Selch said between hard breaths and harder thrusts. "Maybe I'll take you with me, when my current project reaches its finale. Reshape you to what I need and breed a new Empire out of this pretty crystal and flesh."
The cold metal embracing his cock vibrated again, keeping the Exarch on the edge but never letting him find his peak. His whole body felt lightning-charged, every muscle tensed as he howled his bliss. His mind was a blissful blank, wiped clean of all but the sensation that only the Ascian's power could evoke from his slowly necrotizing body.
Emet-Selch bent over him, chanting 'mine' at each thrust, fingers leaving bruises on flesh and smears on crystal. At the moment his teeth sunk into the soft meat of the Exarch's throat the metal released, and the Exarch came with a jerk so violent Emet-Selch was nearly thrown clear, screaming to the cold, unfeeling stone around them.
When the sensation of the neurolink collar finally vanished from his throat, replaced by his robes re-enfolding his body, the Exarch licked his lips and murmured the words 'thank you' to the cool air. But Emet-Selch was already gone.