Enabling

Author’s note: Have an extra long chapter and a double shot of smut!

After coming to some disturbing realizations after the miserable week spent in isolation with his spouse, Albel felt a burning need to distract himself and threw himself back into war business. He had never gotten so much work done before. But still his thoughts were plagued. For hours after all of his work had been completed for the day he would pace the floors, desperately groping about for some solution, praying for some answer to fall from the sky to aid him. No such divine answer presented itself.

There was only one option left open to him then. As much as it galled him, he would have to go and see Woltar. Perhaps the old man had some small bit of wisdom that he could benefit from hearing. Of course he would have to endure a great amount of useless prattle, but the boy was desperate.

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It was clear to Woltar when he laid eyes on his charge that Albel was deeply agitated by something. The fact that the boy had come to him told him that Albel was seeking help as well, though the young captain was far too proud to ever admit such a thing. They walked arm in arm through the palace gardens, making idle comments about weather and how fine the garden plants were.

After making their way indoors once more and into the count’s private den in his lodgings in Airyglyph, Woltar decided to address the issue. He ordered two cups of warm tea to be brought. Once the cups had been passed out and the door was shut securely he began.

“As much as I would love to believe you came simply to see me, I know that is not the case. Is the tea to your liking? Let us begin in a logical place; how are things progressing with you and the duke?”

Albel was silent for some time, concentrating on the warmth given off by the cup of tea clutched in his hands. He sighed at last, taking a small sip and then placing the cup to his side and slumping in his chair.

“The tea is fine.”

“I’m glad, I thought you would like something warm and sweet. Coffee has too much of a bitter taste in my opinion.”

Albel nodded. “My only taste for coffee is when it is the only ration left. I’ll tolerate it if I must.”

Woltar nodded mutely. He had learned to be patient. His many years caring for Albel had taught him the importance of patience and when with Albel he always used his lesson. If he tried to pull an explanation from the boy too hastily then Albel would clam up completely. The boy could be positively infuriating at times, but Woltar had learned how to have dealings with him. All the boy needed was some time to allow himself to open up.

They sat in silence. After so many years the silence were no longer awkward; neither of them was impatiently waiting for the other to speak. Woltar studied his charge, noting the slight discoloration under the boy’s eyes, hinting at lack of sleep. Albel had always been thin, but he was well built with muscles; however the count thought that he could detect the boy’s ribs. Had he not been eating lately? Perhaps the boy was stressed. Being in such a cold climate with snow clouds always filling the sky everyone had pale skin, but Albel looked particularly gaunt that day. His skin was almost translucent.

Albel let out a long, soft breath and the count sat up straighter, knowing that their conversation was about to start.

“What do you think of Vox?” the boy asked.

Woltar considered the question. “He is a strong man and a great tactician and leader. He leads his branch of the army very well and he has won us many battles. He is a bit reckless, as are you, and I do not agree with all of his battle strategies, but he is a man to be honored and recognized.”

“What do you think of him as a man?” irritation had crept into the boy’s voice.

“Of that I really could not say,” Woltar replied, taking a sip of tea and then putting it aside, “I do not often see Vox outside of military meetings. I can make guesses as to his personality, but that would not be a fair judgment of his character.”

That response did not please Albel. He growled, frustration starting to creep up upon him. He clenched his clawed hand and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The next question that passed his lips caused a great pain to rush through his body.

“Did you not know him when my father was still alive?”

The old man smiled softly, proud that the boy had allowed himself to ask such a thing. Glou Nox had become such a taboo subject with Albel, the boy could not even think of his father happily. It pained the count to see his charge forbid himself to remember his father lovingly. All Albel could see when reflecting upon his father was his miserable failure that had destroyed Glou. In Albel’s eyes it would have been much better had he been given to the dragon’s flames. No matter how many times Woltar had tried to make him see that Glou Nox had given life as a gift, Albel refused to see such a thing. Albel was convinced he was guilty of patricide.

Closing his eyes and recalling the past, the count tried to think of times when he had seen Vox with Glou. Vox had been second in command of the dragon brigade while Glou had been alive.

His mind was betraying him. Rather than focusing on Vox, he was digging up memories of Glou. An ache went through the old man’s heart. Glou had been very close to him, like a son. Albel’s protection and care had been left to him for a reason; Glou trusted no other more than Woltar. But apparently Glou had asked Vox to look after the boy as well.

Opening his eyes with a frown, Woltar fixed his charge with saddened eyes. “You’ll have to ask Vox about his past with Glou. I cannot recall any times when he and I had spoken.”

Albel cursed. He looked away abruptly, pushing down the painful welling of grief that had bubbled up within him. There was a reason he never thought of, much less spoke of, his father. He would not cry!

Sensing the boy’s distress, Woltar began a new string of conversation. “You’ve been married for almost a year now, I congratulate you. Marriage is a rather difficult field to navigate no matter if you love one another. The first year is also the hardest. I remember a hundred years ago when I was married.” The count broke off with a smile, recalling his youthful days and beautiful young wife.

Albel looked up at the man from under his thick bangs, frowning. Normally he would have made a cutting remark about how ancient Woltar was, but he remained quiet.

Woltar continued. “Love can be difficult as well. It’s hard, giving your heart to another yet remaining true to yourself.”

“So I’ve learned.” Albel commented dryly, glaring at the floor. “Since when does loving someone mean betraying yourself? Why should they come to expect that? Why should I feel guilty because I don’t want to do what he wants?”

The young captain stopped abruptly. He had said too much. Lifting his head again, he gazed at the aged count, gauging the man’s expression. Woltar looked upset.

After swallowing thickly the old man managed to force his words out. “You agree…so you do love him.”

Why had he come? Why had he opened his mouth?! Albel leapt up, gathering his cloak and throwing it over his shoulders. He stormed from the room, an angry flush on his face, and left the man’s quarter’s hastily. Woltar stood up, wishing to stall the boy for a moment, but Albel was far too quick. He was out the door and down the street by the time the old man had left the cozy den.


More questions had been raised in his meeting with Woltar than had been answered. When he dwelled on the interview longer, Albel thought that he really hadn’t found an answer to any of his questions. He growled. There was a reason he never visited the old man.

For days afterwards Albel had been lost in his thoughts. Unlike before, he could not turn his distress into useful energy. Papers began to pile up on his desk in his quarters, he lost interest in training the soldiers, he even lost interest in training himself. Albel panicked at his strange behavior that he sent in a formal request to be moved to Kirlsa for a time. Perhaps if he was back on his own turf he could regain his focus.

A grant came shortly after with some directions about what to teach the soldiers. Albel crumbled the letter and tossed it into the trashcan and went to work packing his bags for long stay at the training facility. Somehow word had reached his spouse about his sudden intended departure and a summons was sent with the grant. He crumpled that up as well.

Albel waited impatiently for his departure date. He dreaded having to see Vox again with his thoughts in such turmoil. The man would question him over the hasty departure and he would have no answer; he would have to reveal his troubles. What bothered Albel most, however, was the worry that Vox would have him pretend to be weak again.

His wishes were dashed when, the evening before he was to leave, a firm knock sounded on his door. Albel did not need to wonder who was knocking on his door at such a late hour; who else would it be? He answered the door with a dark scowl plastered on his face. Vox looked back at him with much the same displeasure.

Albel walked away from the door, returning to his bedroom and sitting down at his desk and pretending to work on some of the excess documents he still had to fill out. The duke shut the door with a loud bang and followed. He stood beside the desk, looking down at the boy. Albel felt the heavy gaze upon him, but he ignored it.

“You’re depressed.” Vox said at last, taking the quill out of his spouse’s hand.

Albel allowed the quill to be taken out of his grasp. He kept his eyes trained on the papers on his desk.

Albel’s strange behavior did not trouble Vox as much as it confused him. He pulled the boy’s chair out and had him stand. The young captain stood but adverted his eyes guiltily.

“Have you done something?” The duke asked, pulling Albel’s chin back towards him and looking into the boy’s eyes.

The boy looked back at him with anger. “No I have not ‘done something’, pig.”

The duke’s eyes widened a bit at the unprompted anger. A bit of agitation crept into his voice. “Don’t snap at me, child. I came to see why you ignored my summons.”

“Why should I have come?”

“Because I commanded you to.”

“I don’t follow your orders.”

“I beg to differ,” Vox said, gripping Albel by the shoulders and pushing him towards the bed.

Albel struggle wildly but the man grasped him harder.

“What has gotten into you?!” Vox demanded, digging his blunt nails into the boy’s flesh.

The question seemed to bring some clarity to Albel and he realized how ridiculous he was acting. He calmed, allowing his muscles to relax and no longer protesting the grip on his body. Once he was calm Vox loosened his hold.

“You’re acting quite strange, Albel.”

“I’m stressed.” Albel replied honestly.

“About?”

“Many things.”

The man snorted in amusement; he knew Albel would not offer an explanation to him. It would be best to allow the boy to work through his troubles on his own.

“I’ll allow you to puzzle over your worries on your own, but this move to Kirlsa will prevent me from checking up on you often.”

“That was the point.” Albel thought to himself angrily.

“I’d like a proper farewell before you depart. It will be good for you as well, to relieve all of this stress, if only temporarily.”

The notion of being relieved of his stress appealed to Albel immensely. He nodded his head once and Vox pushed him backward onto the bed. While Albel shed his clothing, the duke divested himself of his own, eager to use his young spouse. He grabbed up the bottle of lubricant Albel kept in plain sight and quickly spread the oil over his cock.

Had he more energy, Albel would have been fully engaged in their session of sex. At the time he was too tired. He lay back, spreading his legs in a most inviting way and surrendered himself completely. He could hate himself in the morning for being so docile.

Vox crushed his weight against Albel’s slim belly, claiming the boy’s mouth in a possessive kiss. The boy yielded to the assault, wrapping his arms about the man’s shoulder and bringing him in deeper. Pleased with how responsive Albel was being, the man bit at the boy’s lips playfully, then left to nip at the nape of his neck.

Letting out a soft moan, Albel shifted, grinding his hips against the heavy body above him.

“Are you so eager?” Vox panted in his ear, reaching a hand down to stroke Albel’s cock.

Albel responded with a loud groan, lifting his hips and arching his back. The duke chuckled against the boy’s neck, running his hand up and down the boy’s shaft, twirling his thumb over the tip and then moving his hand back down to fondle the boy’s sac. Albel threw his head back against the pillows, mouth open in a silent gasp of pleasure.

It pleased the man greatly, to see his young spouse so undone, so desperate for further attention. His own cock ached and throbbed angrily, desiring to be buried deep within that pliant body. He would not deny himself such a pleasure.

Vox took his hand away, moving so that he was kneeling between Albel’s spread thighs. Albel let out a soft groan of protest and lifted his head a bit so he could see what the duke was doing.

“Lay back.” Vox commanded, taking Albel’s legs in hand and forcing them into the air.

Th boy obeyed, falling into the pillows and taking steadying deep breaths. He felt the swollen head of his lover’s cock pushing against his entrance. It didn’t take long for the tip to slip in and the rest of the shaft followed quickly after. Albel gasped loudly at the sudden intrusion, arching off the bed. Vox allowed the boy’s body to adjust for a moment before he began a steady, hard rhythm.

With a firm grip about Albel’s ankles, keeping the boy’s feet lifted and hips elevated, the duke took of his spouse’s body. He drove in to the hilt, hitting that sweet spot that made Albel quiver and moan. He loved seeing Albel so helpless and lost in ecstasy. He would never tire of the sight of the boy powerless in the throes of his orgasm, body arched and tense, crying out desperately.

He lifted Albel’s feet onto his shoulder then, leaning forward and crouching above the boy. Albel cried out as the man shifted, pounding into his body deeper than before. Vox laughed in amusement, ramming into the lithe body beneath him, enjoying the clasping feeling of the tight walls that encased his cock. He groaned, putting more force behind his thrusts.

Beneath him, he could feel Albel begin to shake, close to his climax. With a breathy chuckle, the duke reached down and took Albel’s cock in hand, touching him with long, sensual strokes. It took only a few of those wonderful touches to send Albel over the edge.

The boy’s body clamped around his cock, pulling a groan from the man’s lips. He could feel the sticky substance of Albel’s semen on his stomach. Albel’s body went slack and he continued to thrust. Each time he hit the boy’s prostate Albel would moan softly and clench his muscles. A particularly rough jab caused the boy to clench hard and the feel sent Vox over the edge.

After spilling his seed deep in the boy’s bowels, he pulled out, lifted Albel’s legs off his shoulders and let him curl up on his side protectively. Vox sat beside the boy, leaning against the wall that the bed was pressed against, staring at the opposite side of the room in contemplation.

“Why did you allow Arzei to take the throne when you could have easily claimed it?” Albel asked.

The suddenness of the question caught the man off guard. He looked down at the curled form beside him and frowned.

“Does it matter?”

The boy shrugged. “I wondered.”

Vox sighed, training his eyes on the back wall once more. “I could have taken the throne, you are right. I had a desire to, but I also wanted to have a hand in the war, rather than dictate how it was to be run from the security of the castle. I had to choose between the two roles offered; in the end I chose to put my skills to use in the war. At the time the throne opened I was already your father’s second command; I had a fair amount of power over the dragon brigade, seeing as I could command small platoons. I’m sure I would have found that I would have been unhappy taking the throne. I joined the dragon brigade for a reason and it was not to sit about all day in the capital, I wanted to fight. I’m sure you know all about that feeling.”

Albel nodded slightly, pulling a pillow beneath his cheek. “Why do you fight so strongly?”

“To win the war, of course.”

“Yes, but you also seem to fight because of some personal hatred towards Aquaria.” Albel lifted his eyes towards his spouse. “Will you tell me why?”

There was a flash of anger in the duke’s eyes and the man’s mouth tightened. For a moment Albel thought he would yell, but Vox only growled and replied,

“That is none of your business.”

It was dangerous territory to tread, but Albel pushed forward. “I would think that it is some of my concern. We all have unhappy stories, can yours be any worse than mine?”

The boy’s petulant tone made the duke’s lip curl into a snarl. “If we all have such pain, then why do you wish to dredge it up? Do you like being reminded of your failure during the Ascension of the Flames Ceremony?”

“Was it a failure then?” Albel asked, ignoring the snide comment.

“No, it was a personal injury that those scum delivered onto me, are you happy now?”

“What kind of injury? I’ve seen no scar on your body.”

“Albel!” The man’s voice was angry and stern; there was threat within his tone. Albel closed his mouth, looking away, delving back into his own worries. Vox sighed, calming down and laying a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You need not know about the injuries I received when I was younger, though it is warming that you have such care for your spouse.”

Albel cringed. He didn’t care for his spouse; he was merely trying to understand the man’s motives. The thought sent a pang of guilt through him. Just that morning he had discovered that he had feelings for the duke that ran deeper than he had imagined and those feelings might even be love and yet he cared not about the man’s past hurts. He finally understood why his father had never taken another wife after his mother had died; love required more toil than the war did.

“What was your time spent with my father like?” Albel mumbled.

“Glou?” Vox was surprised that the boy had asked; usually Glou was never spoken of in Albel’s company. “Your father was one of the most respectable men I knew. I trusted him with my life and he trusted me with his. He trusted me with your life as well.”

Albel turned over to look at the man. “What do you mean?”

“He left you to the care of Woltar for good reason. Woltar was practically Glou’s father and Woltar also had time and the means to care for you. Glou realized that, in the event of his death, I would become the head of the dragon brigade, so leaving you to my care was out of the question. That and I made it no secret how I despised children.”

“I was fifteen at the time…that doesn’t explain how he trusted me to you.”

“He asked me to look after you.”

Albel looked at the man, stricken. “And that, to you, translated into the command to marry me?”

Vox laughed loudly. “I highly doubt that your father had that idea in his head. He talked eagerly of the future grandchildren he would have and your wife, but he also realized that you had shown no interest in finding yourself a mate. I married you because I want you and because our union could benefit you the way that your father desired.”

“My father wanted me to be happy.” Albel whispered harshly, thinking that the man assumed too much of what his father desired.

“Are you unhappy?”

“I might be.” Albel admitted after a pause.

Vox looked at the boy, his face curiously devoid of emotion. “I see, well, that would certainly explain your behavior, wouldn’t it?”

When the man made the move to stand, Albel, out of some inner instinct, shot his hand out and gripped the duke’s arm. Vox stopped, waiting for the boy to speak.

“I don’t want to be married.” The young captain said at last. The arm in his grip flexed in anger. “I like having my freedom. Being stuck with you for that last week was like torture to me. I can’t be an idle spouse or one who always gives up personal desires for his lover.”

“I never asked such a thing from you.” Vox hissed.

“No, but—”

“And what will you do when the war ends, Albel? There will be nothing for you to do. How will you cope with your boredom then? Will you simply end your life?”

“No! Arzei wouldn’t liquidate our army, I would still be training my men.”

“Yet you assumed that being married would take those responsibilities away from you, though I have never spoken of any desire for you to surrender your title as captain. It’s no wonder you don’t want to be married, you have twisted notions in your head of exactly what marriage is.”

Vox pulled away then, hastily putting his clothes on. He turned and fixed Albel with a scathing glare. “Take this time away to sort out your addled brain. If you return to me with these stupid thoughts still lingering I’ll give you what you desire and set you free. Might I say though, before I depart you, that you damn well should have had the courtesy to say something of these fears BEFORE I married you.”

Albel flinched, watching as the man turned and strode from the room. Vox paused in the doorway, not glancing back.

“If you do return with a clear mind you can count on receiving that session of discipline I have promised.”

Having said his piece, the duke left, slamming the door on his way out. Albel lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. That conversation certainly hadn’t gone the way he had desired it to. He had wanted time to sort his thoughts out before spilling them to his spouse. How was he to deal with being in love with the man and yet not desiring to be wedded to him? That did not even seem to make sense!

Vox had made several valid points, he admitted as he went over their meeting again. The man hadn’t asked him to give up anything, had not tried to dictate how he was to lead his life. Perhaps part of the reason why that week had been so miserable was because he had been forced into ‘hiding’ and they had been ordered away from the war. There was nothing of enjoyment for him to do. Vox had been content, but he had also been able to look over papers that pertained to the war. If he had been allowed to have the same kind of interaction the time might have been better for him.

“How am I to reconcile all of this?” Albel asked himself, putting his clothes on and pacing back and forth in his room.

He had come to the realization that it was not the marriage that had been at fault for ruining his week, but being away from his duties. If Vox did not desire him to abandon his duties as captain then there should be no problems with their marriage. He could love the man and be happily married because he would also be allowed to have his own life and freedom. What he had feared, Albel realized, was that he would be surrendering his personality. But Vox did not want such a thing, the man only wanted a little kinky role-playing during sex. After all, would he have wanted Albel if the boy gave up everything that made him Albel?

By the time he had sorted all of this out, the time was closing in on four AM. There were two hours before Albel was to depart. He could not leave with such troubled water between the two of them. He was not certain how long he would be gone and the longer the event stewed between them the harder it would be to reconcile.

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A soft knocking at his door roused the duke from his slumber. He had fallen asleep in his office, meticulously going over documents to clear his mind. Glancing at the clock, he wondered just who would be paying him a visit, but when he opened the door and saw his young lover at his doorstep he wasn’t as surprised as he felt he should have been.

“Do you need something?” He asked civilly.

Albel nodded, stepping forward into the room and leaning up to kiss the man eagerly.

The boldness surprised Vox and he pushed the boy away, taking his arm in a firm grasp and leading him away from the door once he had shut it.

“Now what’s gotten into you?” he asked, going to the center of the living room.

Albel followed. “I’ve thought—”

“Have you? I’m glad.” The man cut him off sarcastically.

“If you’ll just listen I’d like to clear this up before I leave.”

The conversation was long and angry words were thrown about often, but a peace was eventually reached. Vox held Albel in his arms, placing a kiss to the boy’s forehead. Albel had never seemed so human to him and he had a strange desire to protect the boy. Of course he knew that the moment the boy opened his mouth and insults started to spew forth he would once more want to throttle the little shit, but at the moment his urge was to protect. Albel grimaced at the kiss, but he was quite happy that they had reached an understanding. Surely Vox was laughing at him, thinking how childish he was with his fears, but so long as the air was cleared and they could live alongside one another without too much conflict Albel did not mind the gentle ridicule.

“You need to leave soon” The duke mumbled against the soft brown mass of hair Albel sported, “And you’ve not slept yet.”

“And I won’t. I couldn’t sleep for an hour anyway and…”

“And…? There is something more?”

Albel lifted his head, a faint flush covering his cheeks. “I want to forget this spat and to do that…I want you to punish me, like you promised.”

Vox raised his eyebrows, a grin making its way onto his face. “Is that what you want? Well, I should let you brood and worry over it, but sine you came to me I’ll reward your bravery and allow you to get your punishment out of the way.”

Albel nodded, knowing that his punishment was going to be a humiliating spanking, but unsure of exactly how Vox would go about it. Protesting would do nothing but make the man even more determined to punish him. So long as they kept this between the two of them Albel would allow it. Hell, he might even enjoy it; he was twisted enough to appreciate pain.

“Come to the bedroom.” The duke said, taking his arm and guiding him out of the room.

After having the boy shed his sarong, Vox took out a pair of shackles and clamped them around Albel’s wrists. The shackles joined the young captain’s wrists together and, rather than risk having Albel panicking and slipping away, he had the boy wrap his arms around the bedpost before shackling him. There was nowhere for Albel to go, all he could do was press against the bedpost and take his punishment.

“Bend yourself, Albel, it will be more comfortable for you. I’ll not risk hitting your back that way.”

He did as he was told, bending at his waist and presenting his rear to the man behind him. A hand touched him gently, running over the curve of his buttocks before giving him a playful smack. Albel yelped, body jumping.

The man chuckled. “Now that was only a warning, Albel. Some other time I will bend you over my knee and spank you with my hand, but tonight your behind will feel the bite of my riding crop.”

“What!?” Albel shot up, trying to look back at his spouse. “You never said such a thing!”

“I never specified, did I? So why did you assume I would only spank you?”

“So you’re going to beat me?!”

“Of course not. I’ll never flog you and the worst you will ever feel is my riding crop. The crop is much gentler than you think. Now, get back into position.”

With little choice in the matter, Albel leaned down once more, a small quiver passing through his frame at the thought of being whipped. He could handle pain, he was not afraid of it, but to feel it from an ally and his spouse nonetheless alarmed him. Especially when the tool his spouse used was one he knew caused pain. The act was obviously sexual, that much he was aware of, but he did not want Vox to get a taste for it.

Vox left for a moment, going to his study to collect his riding crop. When he returned he looked at the offered flesh and grinned. He ran the tip of the crop against the cleft of Albel’s ass, digging it into the boy’s entrance so he might feel intimately the tool that would be striking him.

Albel’s muscles clenched as the crop pushed at his entrance. He was uncertain whether Vox would try to insert the tool, but it was pulled away a moment later. He could hear the man plant his feet firmly on the ground and he prepared himself for the coming blows.

The first strike fell across the swell of his buttocks, leaving an angry red line in its wake. Albel let out a loud yelp and, knowing that the blows would only get worse, clamped his teeth on his lip. He would not humiliate himself by crying out and revealing his pain.

Vox took great pleasure in watching as Albel’s behind reddened from the blows he dealt. The boy was trying valiantly not to make any noise, but soft whimpers and moans were slipping from the boy’s lips. When he thought that he heard a truly pained whimper the man paused a moment, remembering that he had great physical strength. He did not wish to harm Albel, only punish him and bring him a small bit of pain to heighten his senses. Keeping those thoughts in mind, the man took up the crop again, raining lighter lashes on the boy’s backside.

Albel could feel the change is how the lashes were being delivered. His backside stung though, and with each blow he dug his nails into the bedpost, most likely leaving some charming scratches on the wood from his claw. Well, Vox deserved that.

“You look lovely, Albel. I’ll have to redden your backside more often. And next time I hope you will not restrain your voice. You make such beautiful sounds.”

The crop bit into his backside again and a soft moan slipped from his throat. Without having realized it, his cock had started to harden. Albel cursed mentally and shifted against the bedpost. Behind him Vox chuckled.

“I knew you were one who enjoys a bit of pain. I’ll relieve you soon.”

The whipping lasted several more minutes. Albel had applied such force to clamping down on his lip that he could taste blood. Regardless of the hot ache centered on his buttocks, he was still hard and wanted to be touched and pleasured. When Vox at last dropped the riding crop with an audible thud Albel let out a long held breath, the tension leaving his body. He was quivering a little, but he managed to gain control over himself quickly.

As Albel hung on to the bedpost, catching his breath, Vox came up behind him and rested a hand against the boy’s heated cheeks.

“Lovely, very lovely.”

A tart remark hovered on the tip of his tongue, but Albel swallowed it back, too tired to begin slinging insults about. He did not protest then when the duke parted his cheeks and rubbed the leaking tip of his cock against the puckered entrance to his body.

Albel gasped softly, surprised that he had not heard the man unzip his pants. “When did you…?”

“Hush, be silent and enjoy yourself. You’ve been punished, now you can feel pleasure.”

The duke pushed Albel back into a bending position, forcing himself into the boy with only a small sound of protest. He was quick about it, setting a fast, hard rhythm, pounding into Albel’s body as he gently stroked the boy’s throbbing cock.

It hurt, Albel thought, to have Vox ram into his body and brush against his heated, abused flesh. The man probably did that on purpose, so that he would feel even more pain, yet it was an enticing pain. The bite from the riding crop was slowly abating, but the stinging from the welts it had left made his skin tingle.

Albel rocked into the hand around him, moaning softly. The feel of the man’s hands sliding over his cheeks, squeezing the stinging flesh, heightened his pleasure. That he could be used so and enjoy it immensely surprised and humbled Albel.

When the man spilled his seed in Albel’s body he gripped the boy by the waist and held him steady. Albel gasped slightly, having come to enjoy the feel of his spouse shooting his cum deep into his body. With his own end reached, Vox continued to stroke the young captain while remaining buried in the boy’s tight passage. A few more gentle thrusts sent Albel to his climax, his semen coating the duke’s hand and dribbling down his shaft to mix with his spouse’s semen running down his thighs.

After he had pulled out, Vox undid the shackles, catching the weakened body and lying the boy on the bed. He sat beside Albel, idly running his hand over the red marks on his behind. The boy would flinch every now and then as spark of pain went through him as a wound was prodded.

“You did very well.” Vox said softly. Albel groaned. “I’m rather proud of you for coming to me to address the problem and for being so brave as to take your punishment now. I must say though, your ride will not be a comfortable one.”

And it wasn’t. Albel was continuously shifting in his seat, raising himself up so that he was leaning on his lum’s mane instead of seated on its back. With each lumbering step the animal seemed to take Albel was reminded of the soreness of his buttocks. Oh how he hated Vox.

He had come up with some solutions to his revelations and when they were presented to the man they were happily accepted, but Albel still had some reserves. He was intelligent, but even he could not solve his marital problems in a few hours of deep contemplation. Whereas he was not as panicked as he initially had been, he still knew that he did not want to be closely chained to the man. And he still was not completely convinced that the request to act weak was simply a bedroom kink of Vox’s. What if the man desired to have that subservience at all times?

What he feared most was losing his identity, yet he did desire to be with the duke. How he could care for someone but not want to be with that person was beyond Albel. Marriage had seemed so easy when he was not attracted to Vox. It irked him to think that he would not live with the man and raise children with him for some time, but then he thought how happy he was, to be able to get away from the pompous ass as well.

Albel shook his head as he rode, cringing at the ache in his behind. “We’re headed for an early divorce.”

~END

I hope you enjoyed! Some questions were answered, and others deepened. Albel’s confusion is contagious! I have few comments today, this chapter tired me out. Writing sex is the hardest part. I would be interested to see these pictures, anon. Does anon have a deviantart page or a website where I could view these doodles? If not I strongly encourage you to make a deviantart page. And random question time: do you come back and read parts of the story and if yes, which parts?