tagBDSMXaxac Brigadon & Knights of Order Ch. 14

Xaxac Brigadon & Knights of Order Ch. 14

byCandiCame©

I gasped for air- restrained myself- and made it, floating through a foggy cloud back to our-(my?)-his bed and tried to stop choking myself- it's weird coming back like that- I coughed up so much water that air was very much like drinking, then cough, then glaze over and try to stay away long enough to take another drink- because you need it to survive. He was so worried... my master stayed by my side, awake, all night and slept with me all morning- but...

I really think that I was dead for a second... or... almost. I knew, I was supposed to be all cute and innocent and whatnot but no one is that stupid. There was way more to this unexplained "healing" thing then I was supposed to know about-then I was supposed to ask about. I was completely drained, starved- it was around 7:00am when I finally "awoke" into anything but a coughing, breathing for air stupor that I don't think I ever- EVER want to do again.

He was already talking to one of the little imps and pouring coffee for... both of us?

"So," he said calmly, pulling me to him, "We're never doing that again." I finally stopped shaking. That felt amazing. When I sat there, motionless and silent, he held me closer and I nuzzled into him- far more thoughtful then I had ever been in my life. I had no idea what to do. I really, really wanted to be alive- I hadn't really ever known that about myself before. But now it's one of the main tenants of my life- stay alive, and you have time to comeback from anything.

And I want to know why I get sick if I eat the same thing as other people, upper-class people; we had tried that once, and I had gotten really sick (apparently; I was young- I don't remember it). I want to know why I can heal- and I remember linking those two thing very closely somehow. There was something there... Fuck it- he had orange-juice that tasted burning alcoholic- and I drowned my doubts while I doubled my immune system.

And then I really, really wanted to go back to the stadium. I know that it seems like I was only going there to get more frost, but I was actually surprisingly pumped and energetic-and I really, really needed to burn it. He was shocked-he looked at a clock hung on the wall with intricate little clockwork creatures- 10:30.

"Don't you need more rest?" he asked, half-mockingly, patronizingly, in the way that I knew meant I was going back to bed. "You've only been asleep for... 3 hours or so."

Alive. I took a deep breath. Breathing. Eating. Drinking.

Alive.

I watched him sleep for some time, after breakfast before the dawn melted into midday and I could sleep again. I understood what he was trying to show me. If I had killed that fighter- it was the only life he had; the same as I. We were the same. I couldn't just destroy him like that... we were... valuable?

I awoke as I always did, moaning, but happily smiling, sliding back, pushing this time to the familiar girth of my master, who felt me wake up and acknowledged it with a nibble to my ear. I tried to align myself better, to struggle to my knees, but he was strong, and it wasn't worth it, so I just gave myself up- trying desperately to find some kind of relief; he was being gentle on purpose- watching me twist and whine. He held both my wrists in one hand easily and bore over me, forcing my face into the mattress, with his other wrapped expertly around my throat- and I remember thinking that this was one of my favorite positions- as he pumped steadily, slowly, whispering to me about how he knew I would do better- I could be a good boy- a good little bunny. I tried to nuzzled into him so desperately that he eventually lowered himself so that I could, even though he had to let go of my wrists not to crush me- he didn't realize how much I liked being crushed. My world had faded to the bright silver glow that I loved- the place where I could only feel and stopped thinking completely.

And it felt amazing. I gave up supporting myself when reason left me and slumped gradually, though I had, at first, tried to defy logic and fall upwards, into him. My body fell into a numbness that seemed to vibrate-canceling everything around it- and he fell across me, holding my chest now, forcing my face up a little as he moved to his knees.

When consciousness hit me again, full force, he was slamming into me, grinding my hips when they met- my face and arms were left on the bed, and I tried to prop myself up to match my kneel- but gave up before I could get started; he used his hold on my hips to literally flip me over- still impaled on his cock.

I gave up again as my body tensed without asking and laid back- like I always did. It did feel amazing- full and used and relaxed and tensed- on my back he loomed over me- I bit my lower lip and was-and still am, actually- for some reason embarrassed to be so hard that I was leaking. He slowed down and stared at me- I moaned and tried to match pace with him- but he had all but stopped. He laughed and put a powerful hand on my chest, holding me, gently but forcefully, still. I tried to stop whimpering, but he ran his hand, still exerting that same force, down until he reached the base of my cock.

Then he stirred- but only to turn me to get a better look. I moaned as he pulled me up and around by that death-grip and involuntarily thrust into him. He laughed again, and pulled back- so that I was afraid he was going to pull out, but kept his grip on the base of my cock. I grabbed the sheets- for lack of anything better to grab- but he only got so far as to tease me with just the head- the part I was afraid of- still inside me; before pulling me, one hand on my hip, the other still latched firmly around my cock; as hard as possible, slamming me against him, filling me up. He was moving with purpose, but it didn't seem to be to get off. It didn't matter- he still felt amazing-

And suddenly, his hands left me, though he was still buried so deep we were touching. He pulled me into his lap and sat against the pillows. I fell against his chest and he held me there, roughly, by the hair with one hand, while he brought the other to my lips. I kissed the part he held to my lips, and realized there was a liquid smeared there. Salty... sweet... my pre-cum. I blushed- I must've dripped all over him. I tried to lick everything from his hand and felt him thrust against me- I bolted up strait.

"Good little bunny!" he hissed, and I bucked- I was on top now- and suddenly realized that I could do that- and all he would do is guide me. I braced myself on his shoulders and rode, letting him fill me- one hand behind my back, the other, soon, guiding the head of my leaking prick as he tried to get me to spray. "So... what do we do to turn this tasty treat into real cum?"

"Cum inside me!" I begged without thinking- and then realized that I meant it- there was something holding my back that I knew feeling him spasm and unload would unleash.

He laughed again, a chuckle, the kind that forced him to wrap his hug up farther to stroke my hair- and then pulled my head roughly back.

"That's what you want?"

I smiled and tried to nod, but I couldn't so I made what I thought was an affirmative mewing noise.

"Alright then," he had begun to play with my balls during this exchange, and was now pulling gently on the sack and feeling my cock jump and drip between us, he switched back to gently stroking just the head of my cock and felt me twitch around him.

That didn't last long. But when he forgot about me and found his perfect rhythm, I felt myself falling into the trance I had been in almost immediately I found his hand guiding mine to my stiff, aching prick so that he could watch me, and his pace picked up instantly. I couldn't keep up with his constant shouts of "faster" that fell into background noise. He was slamming into me so hard that it hurt- so fast that it was rubbing me raw-and when he finally did cum, and pulled me so close that every muscle in my body wrapped around him and felt the contortions- I tried my best to milk his cock- to work at the base and follow the cum down the shaft and to the head with a massage of sorts... When I timed it and he came raging hard against my prostate I squirted all over us. He pulled me closer.

"Good boy," he kissed me on the forehead, "Good morning, Xac."

I panted- unable to get used to anything- covered in sweat- but more alive then I had ever been. He handed me the glass of orange-juice with fire and lay back with his arm around me.

"I decided I wasn't doing anything today now that I've finished my real estate deal," he said, and I automatically began to tune him out, just snuggling deeper and deeper into him, when he said, "So we're going to the arena tonight to watch the fights." Then he continued, murmuring on and on about things that I never paid attention to. And as I have done, so many times in my life, I passed the time between that morning and the time I saw my first cage-fight that afternoon in a drunken blur.

I vaguely remember getting there-to the arena in Satre- and have always gotten there and back better when I've been shitfaced drunk. But we went in the same way, through some back entrance and slipping through curtains that I could never explain, but I could probably take you through if I absolutely had to-and you would get me drunk. If I were there again. And we emerged as part of the crowd in the giant stadium I had seen before.

I'm really glad that this memory is fuzzy at best- because I didn't want to know the truth. Seeing it as an outsider kind of makes you admit what you are. And I don't like doing that. Reality and I... have a tentative relationship at best. I like to keep myself good and wasted and far, far away from all that jazz. I don't like watching the fights. But I remember the violence- my confusion at why I had been randomly selected as perfect for something I was obviously going to suck at- but mostly, my strong desire not to pay attention; to keep my drink- and my bloodstream-refilled as best as I could. It didn't prepare me because I didn't want to know.

My master was in another cold, standoffish mood- either because I didn't show any adverse reaction to the fights, or because I didn't pay any attention to them, I wasn't sure. I thought he was going to quiz me on something easy- even something as easy as "who won"- and I wouldn't be able to answer it. I was "barely-able-to-hold-myself-together-drunk". But he didn't- he tried, as best he could, to hide his contempt. He tried, as best he could, to explain the rules to me.

"The main rule to understand is simple. Do not die. The last warrior who remains inside the cage is the winner. They all enter with no armor or weapons." I nodded, honestly paying as much attention as I could- as out of it as I was.

"What did I say, Xac?" he asked, hopelessly.

"Don't die." I replied, and he brightened.

"Good!" There was genuine shock in his voice and he ruffled my hair as I took another drink. "There are only three ways out of the cage once we send them in. The most common way is Death." he paused, "But occasionally, there have been fighters who have been 'recovered' because they were on the brink of death. It's possible for your trainer to save you and forfeit, but it's hard to get in time." He looked down at me. "How do you lose Xac?"

"Death." I replied.

"And?"

"Doesn't matter," I sighed, leaning against him, rubbing against him, "It'll never come up. And I don't remember the other way."

"There are only 2 ways to lose," he sighed, "The third way out is to win. To be the last warrior standing."

I thought about that. You only had to live. I could do that. I had proven I could do that. That's what Tao liked me- because I could live through more then most people. Because I healed. I could probably do this- and get a lot of Frost- I'd had a dose promised to me when I showed up at any practice- and I couldn't imagine he'd let me go into the cage without it.

"Also," I said, only because I was calm, and drunk and in his arms, "the hottest fighter always wins- the one in the best shape..."

"You want to work out?" He asked, shocked.

I took a look at him- realized I said something I shouldn't have and put on my cutest bunny face as I sipped my bright orange drink, and asked innocently, changing the subject, "can we take one of those giant boiling baths again?"

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