Fic: The Shogun and the Nightingale
Jun. 25th, 2010 08:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
munninTitle: The Shogun and the Nightingale
Author: Munnin
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Bruce/Dick
Bingo card: AU. Historical: Feudal Japan. Card Masterlist.
Disclaimer: No ownership, no profit and no offence meant. Everyone is of the age of consent in their country and period of history
Author’s notes: 100% organic. May contain minor flaws and imperfections that beta-treated slash wouldn’t. Most of the research came from here.
The Shogun lingered in the doorway, easing the paper screen back silently.
In the centre of the garden stood his ward and heir, the beautiful Daiki who the men called Nightingale for the brightness he brought to even the darkest hour.
Though Daiki was not his by birth, the Shogun tended the youth as dear as blood and none of those in his command would ever think to dispute the youth’s right to inherit all the Shogun possessed, including his title.
The Shogun and his men had rescued Daiki when he was a boy. The band of Noh actors had been set upon by brigands on the road. Most of the travelling entertainers were killed before the samurai could reach them but the boy survived, fighting defiantly amongst the wreckage of his family’s ruined caravan.
Childless himself, the Shogun looked kindly on the boy, both for the bravery he showed and for his strange storm-blue eyes – a rare trait the Shogun too possessed.
Daiki proved to be an apt student and worthy successor to the Shogun, earning the respect of his men by being a fast learner and an earnest study. His great beauty and amiable nature made him popular with both the men and the women of the town and many desired his favour, though few had the courage to court it.
For the Shogun, though an even-handed and fair leader, was watchful over his charge and protective of the youth almost to the point of ferocity. Several who had courted the young man’s affections or come too near to overstepping the bounds of comradely found themselves facing their lord’s stony and formidable gaze. A most fearful sight. One young archer had, on bended knee, offered to take his own life after being caught pressing himself too close to the youth.
So fierce was the Shogun’s protectiveness that no man among his samurai dare offer himself as nenja though Daiki was well into his wakashū years. It was expected by now that the youth would be bonded to an older man to be taught martial skills, warrior etiquette, and the samurai code of honour. Though the Shogun insisted on teaching the youth himself, other aspects of the shudō relationship were absent - those of physical pleasure and love.
The samurai whispered among themselves that this was a great pity – youth was beautiful and should know the ways of pleasure but none dared speak out against their lord and master.
And so it came, against all tradition, that Daiki came into the beginnings of manhood untouched.
And as the Shogun watched his Nightingale, he came to know the great pity of it.
The young man stood in the centre of the garden, dressed in pants of midnight blue and crisp white kimono that framed too well the narrowness of his waist. His black hair was free of its usual top-knot and hung down the young man’s back in a long plait, writhing like a serpent to its master’s movements. A blindfold covered the Nightingale’s eyes as he danced, a silk fan with spokes burnished silver in each hand.
The youth moved with grace though the kata, the fans flashing brilliantly in the dying light as a breeze plucked at the cherry blossoms and twirled them in his wake. At the last move the Nightingale threw one of the fans into the air, dropping to his knees and let it fall, unseen, into his open hand.
The Shogun let a smile grace his stern face. “Well done.”
“Thank you.” The youth smiled, dropping into a low bow. He did not remove the blindfold or move to rise as the Shogun crossed the garden towards him. “Does my performance please you master?”
“Greatly.” The Shogun whispered, touching the youth’s jaw to draw him to his feet.
The breeze ruffled the youth’s hair, tangling the few strands that had fallen loose of the braid and settling white blossoms amongst the youth’s silken black mane. A flushed covered his high cheeks and his lips, red and full with exertion, parted softly.
His hand still on the young man’s jaw, the Shogun felt a great surge of need sweep though him. A need he greatly feared. Sharply he dropped his hand and turned on the stones to walk away.
“Master please?” The youth called, shrugging off the blindfold and following the Shogun. “Please do not go.” He saw the darkness in his master’s face and stopped, composing himself in stillness. “If I have offended you great Master, I offer my most sincere apology.”
“You have done nothing to apologise for, young one.” The Shogun said quietly. “It is I who have offended.”
“How so Master?” The Nightingale begged, stepping closer to his lord. There was a tension in his master’s stance that troubled him greatly.
“I have left it too long to select a nenja for you. You should be bonded and learning the way.”
“But you have taught me great Master.” Daiki begged. “And for that I am most grateful.”
“There are other things you must learn.” The Shogun tossed his imperious head, trying to shake off his longing. “At dawn you will leave from the village of Asakura, there you will be joined in shudō with my bond brother Kal. You will return when you are of age.” He turned to walk away, arrested by the sound of the young man falling to his knees on the fine stones.
“Have I displeased you my lord?” The youth whispered, his voice engrained with abject misery. “I beg your forgiveness.” His forehead touched the gravel.
The Shogun’s heart melted at piteous sight and he turned to kneel with the youth. “There are things you must learn that I cannot teach you.” He touched Daiki’s chin, raising the youth to face him. “Though I greatly long to do so.”
“What is it that I am too unworthy to learn from my great master?” The youth pleaded, his storm blue eyes damp with tears.
“You are by no means unworthy.” The Shogun scolded. “I tender you as dear as any child of my flesh and see you as my son.”
Daiki bowed again. “You honour me great master but-” He fell silent as the Shogun held out his hand.
“And as my son there are things I cannot teach you. My desire to do so dishonours us both.” He stood and turned away. “You will go to Asakura.” Though the thought of Kal touching his boy burned his heart with jealousy, he knew his bond-brother would teach the youth well and show him the care he deserved.
“Master?” the youth flew to his feet, catching the Shogun by the shoulder. “Master please? Let me speak and if your judgement still stands I will go to Asakura as commanded but please...hear me.”
The Shogun stepped back, steeling his expression. “Speak.”
“Master,” the youth started, the words tumbling like a waterfall. “That you tender me as your child honours me beyond reckoning. And I, so unworthy of that love, fall here at your feet and beg you to see me not so. For I, base as I am, would give up all honour I have to be bound to you in shudō and forgo all other lovers but for you.” He fell once more to his knees. “I have never felt desire for another as I do you.” He took a great sobbing breath and bowed his head. “I kneel at your feet and implore your judgment upon me.”
The Shogun felt his breath caught in his throat at this declaration and reached out once more to draw the young man to his feet. “My beautiful Nightingale...” He stroked away the stricken tears and smoothed his thumb over the youth’s cheeks.
Daiki came willingly, tilting his head up to meet the kiss as the Shogun drew him in, moaning softly into the embrace.
“There is so much I wish to teach you my sweet boy.” The Shogun whispered, trailing kisses down the youth’s throat and untangling the tie from his hair.
Daiki’s hair spread out like ink on water as the Shogun laid him down on the veranda, sighing his pleasure as the older man’s solid body covered his own. “Please Master, I beg you...” he breathed, pushing at the collar of the Shogun’s kimono.
The Shogun let his kimono slip open, naked beneath it but for the loincloth that covered his manhood. He held himself still as the youth’s hands ghosted over his torso.
“So many scars.” Daiki whispered in awe as he explored his master’s chest. “You are a great warrior.”
“You will earn your own scars in time.” The Shogun whispered, threading his fingers though the youth man’s hair to draw him back. “And you will have time to study mine later.”
“Of course Master.” The youth replied with a smile, well aware of both their mounting needs. He spread his legs around his master, tilting his hips up so his pants fell open as the Shogun loosened the knots. He whimpered as his master touched him where only he himself had touched, his eyes slipping closed as the Shogun stroked him. “Please Master! I will succumb too soon...”
“Give in, my little bird.” The Shogun soothed, teasing the youth with long and languid strokes as he pressed the youth down, trapping Daiki with his body. “There will be many pleasures yet to share. Let this first overtake you.”
Daiki moaned, sweet and high as nightingale for which he was named as the Shogun hurried his strokes, bliss pouring from him in great surges over his master’s hand. He fell limply to the boards. “Master...” he whispered, his body wracked with shudders of pleasure. “I know not how to thank you.”
“Hush.” The shogun soothed, leaning in to kiss him deeply.
The young man bucked up, groaning into the kiss as the Shogun’s hand, wet with Daiki’s release slipped lower between his legs. “Master?” The youth’s voice cracked with shock.
“I swear I will not hurt you.” the Shogun muttered, his voice determined but not unkind. “Relax and trust me to bring you pleasure.”
“I fear...ah...” The youth hisses as the Shogun’s blunt fingers pressed into him. “I do not know what I should...oh...”
“And the fault for that is mine.” The Shogun shook his head sadly, not wishing to let go of the youth but knowing he must. Such things could not be rushed or acted on with preperation. “Remain here.”
Daiki bit his lip in shame as his master rose and returned to the house. Clearly his inexperience had dishonoured and displeased the Shogun. The thought that he would be sent to another for this made his eyes dew with tears and he rolled onto his knees, facing the garden to compose himself. “Forgive me Master.” He whispered as the Shogun returned. “It was arrogant of me to believe I possessed the skills to please you.”
The Shogun knelt behind the youth, sliding aside Daiki’s robe to reveal the smooth planes of the youth’s shoulder. “You please me greatly my Nightingale.” He whispered, laying kisses over the young man’s throat. “And I wish to make this as pleasurable as possible for you.”
Daiki hissed as the Shogun’s fingers returned to probe his most intimate portal but now they were slick and smooth as entered him; without pain so much as a deep burn, warming the heart of him.
“Lean back into me.” The Shogun whispered, wrapping his arm around the youth’s waist and pulling him nearer as he worked his fingers slowly, patiently. “Breathe deep.”
The Nightingale’s breath came in starts, fighting to centre himself as the Shogun’s fingers grazed something inside him that made his blood sing and his manhood rise once more. “Master... I have heard others speak of this but never did I believe...oh!”
“Believe and feel my young prince.” The Shogun kissed him sweetly, mapping every curve of the young man’s shoulder and throat with the some constancy and thoroughness with which he did all things. “Rejoice in this pleasure as I rejoice in pleasuring you.”
“Please Master...” the youth panted. “Let me pleasure you?”
“You will soon enough beautiful one.” He scissored his fingers deep within the youth, stretching him open. “I must be sure this will no harm you.”
“I am strong.” The youth whimpered, thrusting back into his master’s hand. “You have made me so.”
“Indeed you are.’ The Shogun smiled indulgently. “But do not be so quick to invite pain.” Content that the youth was as prepared as he could be, the Shogun cast aside his loincloth and rest his hand on the Nightingale’s back. “Lean forward.”
The youth obeyed, dropping into a deep bow as the Shogun pushed back his pants and settled the great folds of his kimono around them, protecting them both from the chilled air of nightfall.
The last dying rays of the setting sun cast upon the youth and the Shogun felt his heart soar. His perfect, beautiful child stretched before him on his knees; a statue of alabaster and jet. “For this,” he whispered, pressing his manhood against the youth’s ready body, “I forswear the love of all others.” The youth moaned as he slid in, burying himself to the hilt to fit as the gods themselves must have made. “And gladly.”
The Nightingale shuddered, his body burning with pleasure, its very edges tinged with pain as the Shogun filled him completely. At once torn apart and made whole, he mewed softly as the Shogun stroked his back and neck, whispering gentle words of encouragement as the pain eased.
“My perfect love.” The Shogun soothed as he drew back, thrusting slowly and softly, allowing the youth time to grow accustom to the feeling. He wrapped his arm around the youth’s waist and drew him up, pressing his chest to the young man’s back. “My beautiful prince.’
“Master.” The youth gasped at the change of angle brought each pass to that place of pleasure within him. His manhood dripped with desire and he bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying out.
“No Nightingale.” The Shogun growled softly, brushing his nose though the youth’s soft hair. “Let me hear you sing.” He thrust deep, relishing the youth’s cries of pleasure.
“Master...” The youth moaned, his hands fluttering like sparrows, uncertain and skittish over what little skin he could reach. “Please?”
The Shogun caught hold of the youth’s wrists and brought his hands to stillness, pausing a moment to bring them both back from the edge. “Be still.” He whispered, kissing the side of the youth man’s throat. “Catch your breath.”
“Master I wish...I desire...”
“What do you desire my prince?”
The youth swallowed. “To bring you the pleasure you are bringing me.”
“You do bring me pleasure.” the Shogun promised. “Let me show you.” He slipped from the youth who whimpered with the loss, and laid him down on his back. The Nightingale’s hair cascaded around him like a watered silk and the Shogun lingered, kissing the youth’s cheeks and lips and brow before settling himself once more between the youth man’s thighs.
The youth’s moan broke the air as his master filled him. Free now to touch and take, his hands moved over his master’s skin, over the scars and hard muscle, over the sparse and coarse hair on his chest. He wrapped his legs around the Shogun’s waist, lifting with each thrust to meet his master’s body with his own. Trapped between them, his awakened manhood throbbed with need and he whimpered, high and broken.
“Let go my sweet bird.” The Shogun moaned, tangling his hands in the youth man’s hair as he thrust deep, his own rhythm growing erratic. “Let us reach the summit together.”
“Master!” the youth cried, his lithe body taut as the bow-string and rigid as the blade as the Shogun buried himself deep, each thrust driving the youth higher. He felt the peak come upon him and lost himself in a sea of ecstasy as the Shogun filled him with his release. The heat of his master’s seed and his own shattered senses were too much to bear and the youth fell limp in his lover’s arms.
The Shogun groaned deeply in his release, breathing heavily as he eased out of the still youth. “My perfect child. How such pleasure had broken you.” he whispered as the youth man’s eyelids fluttered.
With a moment’s adjustment, he lifted the Nightingale in his arms and carried him into the house. The old man who served him had already laid their futons out, side by side in recognition of their newly bonded status and a set a bowl of water and a cloth aside for them. Slowly, reverently, the Shogun cleaned the youth, pressing a finger to the Nightingale’s lips as he stirred. “Be still and rest.” He cleaned himself swiftly and shed his heavy kimono.
“Will you be with me when I wake Master?” the youth asked, his words heavy and slurred.
“Yes.” The Shogun promised, sliding in at his side. “Now and always.”
Author: Munnin
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Bruce/Dick
Bingo card: AU. Historical: Feudal Japan. Card Masterlist.
Disclaimer: No ownership, no profit and no offence meant. Everyone is of the age of consent in their country and period of history
Author’s notes: 100% organic. May contain minor flaws and imperfections that beta-treated slash wouldn’t. Most of the research came from here.
The Shogun lingered in the doorway, easing the paper screen back silently.
In the centre of the garden stood his ward and heir, the beautiful Daiki who the men called Nightingale for the brightness he brought to even the darkest hour.
Though Daiki was not his by birth, the Shogun tended the youth as dear as blood and none of those in his command would ever think to dispute the youth’s right to inherit all the Shogun possessed, including his title.
The Shogun and his men had rescued Daiki when he was a boy. The band of Noh actors had been set upon by brigands on the road. Most of the travelling entertainers were killed before the samurai could reach them but the boy survived, fighting defiantly amongst the wreckage of his family’s ruined caravan.
Childless himself, the Shogun looked kindly on the boy, both for the bravery he showed and for his strange storm-blue eyes – a rare trait the Shogun too possessed.
Daiki proved to be an apt student and worthy successor to the Shogun, earning the respect of his men by being a fast learner and an earnest study. His great beauty and amiable nature made him popular with both the men and the women of the town and many desired his favour, though few had the courage to court it.
For the Shogun, though an even-handed and fair leader, was watchful over his charge and protective of the youth almost to the point of ferocity. Several who had courted the young man’s affections or come too near to overstepping the bounds of comradely found themselves facing their lord’s stony and formidable gaze. A most fearful sight. One young archer had, on bended knee, offered to take his own life after being caught pressing himself too close to the youth.
So fierce was the Shogun’s protectiveness that no man among his samurai dare offer himself as nenja though Daiki was well into his wakashū years. It was expected by now that the youth would be bonded to an older man to be taught martial skills, warrior etiquette, and the samurai code of honour. Though the Shogun insisted on teaching the youth himself, other aspects of the shudō relationship were absent - those of physical pleasure and love.
The samurai whispered among themselves that this was a great pity – youth was beautiful and should know the ways of pleasure but none dared speak out against their lord and master.
And so it came, against all tradition, that Daiki came into the beginnings of manhood untouched.
And as the Shogun watched his Nightingale, he came to know the great pity of it.
The young man stood in the centre of the garden, dressed in pants of midnight blue and crisp white kimono that framed too well the narrowness of his waist. His black hair was free of its usual top-knot and hung down the young man’s back in a long plait, writhing like a serpent to its master’s movements. A blindfold covered the Nightingale’s eyes as he danced, a silk fan with spokes burnished silver in each hand.
The youth moved with grace though the kata, the fans flashing brilliantly in the dying light as a breeze plucked at the cherry blossoms and twirled them in his wake. At the last move the Nightingale threw one of the fans into the air, dropping to his knees and let it fall, unseen, into his open hand.
The Shogun let a smile grace his stern face. “Well done.”
“Thank you.” The youth smiled, dropping into a low bow. He did not remove the blindfold or move to rise as the Shogun crossed the garden towards him. “Does my performance please you master?”
“Greatly.” The Shogun whispered, touching the youth’s jaw to draw him to his feet.
The breeze ruffled the youth’s hair, tangling the few strands that had fallen loose of the braid and settling white blossoms amongst the youth’s silken black mane. A flushed covered his high cheeks and his lips, red and full with exertion, parted softly.
His hand still on the young man’s jaw, the Shogun felt a great surge of need sweep though him. A need he greatly feared. Sharply he dropped his hand and turned on the stones to walk away.
“Master please?” The youth called, shrugging off the blindfold and following the Shogun. “Please do not go.” He saw the darkness in his master’s face and stopped, composing himself in stillness. “If I have offended you great Master, I offer my most sincere apology.”
“You have done nothing to apologise for, young one.” The Shogun said quietly. “It is I who have offended.”
“How so Master?” The Nightingale begged, stepping closer to his lord. There was a tension in his master’s stance that troubled him greatly.
“I have left it too long to select a nenja for you. You should be bonded and learning the way.”
“But you have taught me great Master.” Daiki begged. “And for that I am most grateful.”
“There are other things you must learn.” The Shogun tossed his imperious head, trying to shake off his longing. “At dawn you will leave from the village of Asakura, there you will be joined in shudō with my bond brother Kal. You will return when you are of age.” He turned to walk away, arrested by the sound of the young man falling to his knees on the fine stones.
“Have I displeased you my lord?” The youth whispered, his voice engrained with abject misery. “I beg your forgiveness.” His forehead touched the gravel.
The Shogun’s heart melted at piteous sight and he turned to kneel with the youth. “There are things you must learn that I cannot teach you.” He touched Daiki’s chin, raising the youth to face him. “Though I greatly long to do so.”
“What is it that I am too unworthy to learn from my great master?” The youth pleaded, his storm blue eyes damp with tears.
“You are by no means unworthy.” The Shogun scolded. “I tender you as dear as any child of my flesh and see you as my son.”
Daiki bowed again. “You honour me great master but-” He fell silent as the Shogun held out his hand.
“And as my son there are things I cannot teach you. My desire to do so dishonours us both.” He stood and turned away. “You will go to Asakura.” Though the thought of Kal touching his boy burned his heart with jealousy, he knew his bond-brother would teach the youth well and show him the care he deserved.
“Master?” the youth flew to his feet, catching the Shogun by the shoulder. “Master please? Let me speak and if your judgement still stands I will go to Asakura as commanded but please...hear me.”
The Shogun stepped back, steeling his expression. “Speak.”
“Master,” the youth started, the words tumbling like a waterfall. “That you tender me as your child honours me beyond reckoning. And I, so unworthy of that love, fall here at your feet and beg you to see me not so. For I, base as I am, would give up all honour I have to be bound to you in shudō and forgo all other lovers but for you.” He fell once more to his knees. “I have never felt desire for another as I do you.” He took a great sobbing breath and bowed his head. “I kneel at your feet and implore your judgment upon me.”
The Shogun felt his breath caught in his throat at this declaration and reached out once more to draw the young man to his feet. “My beautiful Nightingale...” He stroked away the stricken tears and smoothed his thumb over the youth’s cheeks.
Daiki came willingly, tilting his head up to meet the kiss as the Shogun drew him in, moaning softly into the embrace.
“There is so much I wish to teach you my sweet boy.” The Shogun whispered, trailing kisses down the youth’s throat and untangling the tie from his hair.
Daiki’s hair spread out like ink on water as the Shogun laid him down on the veranda, sighing his pleasure as the older man’s solid body covered his own. “Please Master, I beg you...” he breathed, pushing at the collar of the Shogun’s kimono.
The Shogun let his kimono slip open, naked beneath it but for the loincloth that covered his manhood. He held himself still as the youth’s hands ghosted over his torso.
“So many scars.” Daiki whispered in awe as he explored his master’s chest. “You are a great warrior.”
“You will earn your own scars in time.” The Shogun whispered, threading his fingers though the youth man’s hair to draw him back. “And you will have time to study mine later.”
“Of course Master.” The youth replied with a smile, well aware of both their mounting needs. He spread his legs around his master, tilting his hips up so his pants fell open as the Shogun loosened the knots. He whimpered as his master touched him where only he himself had touched, his eyes slipping closed as the Shogun stroked him. “Please Master! I will succumb too soon...”
“Give in, my little bird.” The Shogun soothed, teasing the youth with long and languid strokes as he pressed the youth down, trapping Daiki with his body. “There will be many pleasures yet to share. Let this first overtake you.”
Daiki moaned, sweet and high as nightingale for which he was named as the Shogun hurried his strokes, bliss pouring from him in great surges over his master’s hand. He fell limply to the boards. “Master...” he whispered, his body wracked with shudders of pleasure. “I know not how to thank you.”
“Hush.” The shogun soothed, leaning in to kiss him deeply.
The young man bucked up, groaning into the kiss as the Shogun’s hand, wet with Daiki’s release slipped lower between his legs. “Master?” The youth’s voice cracked with shock.
“I swear I will not hurt you.” the Shogun muttered, his voice determined but not unkind. “Relax and trust me to bring you pleasure.”
“I fear...ah...” The youth hisses as the Shogun’s blunt fingers pressed into him. “I do not know what I should...oh...”
“And the fault for that is mine.” The Shogun shook his head sadly, not wishing to let go of the youth but knowing he must. Such things could not be rushed or acted on with preperation. “Remain here.”
Daiki bit his lip in shame as his master rose and returned to the house. Clearly his inexperience had dishonoured and displeased the Shogun. The thought that he would be sent to another for this made his eyes dew with tears and he rolled onto his knees, facing the garden to compose himself. “Forgive me Master.” He whispered as the Shogun returned. “It was arrogant of me to believe I possessed the skills to please you.”
The Shogun knelt behind the youth, sliding aside Daiki’s robe to reveal the smooth planes of the youth’s shoulder. “You please me greatly my Nightingale.” He whispered, laying kisses over the young man’s throat. “And I wish to make this as pleasurable as possible for you.”
Daiki hissed as the Shogun’s fingers returned to probe his most intimate portal but now they were slick and smooth as entered him; without pain so much as a deep burn, warming the heart of him.
“Lean back into me.” The Shogun whispered, wrapping his arm around the youth’s waist and pulling him nearer as he worked his fingers slowly, patiently. “Breathe deep.”
The Nightingale’s breath came in starts, fighting to centre himself as the Shogun’s fingers grazed something inside him that made his blood sing and his manhood rise once more. “Master... I have heard others speak of this but never did I believe...oh!”
“Believe and feel my young prince.” The Shogun kissed him sweetly, mapping every curve of the young man’s shoulder and throat with the some constancy and thoroughness with which he did all things. “Rejoice in this pleasure as I rejoice in pleasuring you.”
“Please Master...” the youth panted. “Let me pleasure you?”
“You will soon enough beautiful one.” He scissored his fingers deep within the youth, stretching him open. “I must be sure this will no harm you.”
“I am strong.” The youth whimpered, thrusting back into his master’s hand. “You have made me so.”
“Indeed you are.’ The Shogun smiled indulgently. “But do not be so quick to invite pain.” Content that the youth was as prepared as he could be, the Shogun cast aside his loincloth and rest his hand on the Nightingale’s back. “Lean forward.”
The youth obeyed, dropping into a deep bow as the Shogun pushed back his pants and settled the great folds of his kimono around them, protecting them both from the chilled air of nightfall.
The last dying rays of the setting sun cast upon the youth and the Shogun felt his heart soar. His perfect, beautiful child stretched before him on his knees; a statue of alabaster and jet. “For this,” he whispered, pressing his manhood against the youth’s ready body, “I forswear the love of all others.” The youth moaned as he slid in, burying himself to the hilt to fit as the gods themselves must have made. “And gladly.”
The Nightingale shuddered, his body burning with pleasure, its very edges tinged with pain as the Shogun filled him completely. At once torn apart and made whole, he mewed softly as the Shogun stroked his back and neck, whispering gentle words of encouragement as the pain eased.
“My perfect love.” The Shogun soothed as he drew back, thrusting slowly and softly, allowing the youth time to grow accustom to the feeling. He wrapped his arm around the youth’s waist and drew him up, pressing his chest to the young man’s back. “My beautiful prince.’
“Master.” The youth gasped at the change of angle brought each pass to that place of pleasure within him. His manhood dripped with desire and he bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying out.
“No Nightingale.” The Shogun growled softly, brushing his nose though the youth’s soft hair. “Let me hear you sing.” He thrust deep, relishing the youth’s cries of pleasure.
“Master...” The youth moaned, his hands fluttering like sparrows, uncertain and skittish over what little skin he could reach. “Please?”
The Shogun caught hold of the youth’s wrists and brought his hands to stillness, pausing a moment to bring them both back from the edge. “Be still.” He whispered, kissing the side of the youth man’s throat. “Catch your breath.”
“Master I wish...I desire...”
“What do you desire my prince?”
The youth swallowed. “To bring you the pleasure you are bringing me.”
“You do bring me pleasure.” the Shogun promised. “Let me show you.” He slipped from the youth who whimpered with the loss, and laid him down on his back. The Nightingale’s hair cascaded around him like a watered silk and the Shogun lingered, kissing the youth’s cheeks and lips and brow before settling himself once more between the youth man’s thighs.
The youth’s moan broke the air as his master filled him. Free now to touch and take, his hands moved over his master’s skin, over the scars and hard muscle, over the sparse and coarse hair on his chest. He wrapped his legs around the Shogun’s waist, lifting with each thrust to meet his master’s body with his own. Trapped between them, his awakened manhood throbbed with need and he whimpered, high and broken.
“Let go my sweet bird.” The Shogun moaned, tangling his hands in the youth man’s hair as he thrust deep, his own rhythm growing erratic. “Let us reach the summit together.”
“Master!” the youth cried, his lithe body taut as the bow-string and rigid as the blade as the Shogun buried himself deep, each thrust driving the youth higher. He felt the peak come upon him and lost himself in a sea of ecstasy as the Shogun filled him with his release. The heat of his master’s seed and his own shattered senses were too much to bear and the youth fell limp in his lover’s arms.
The Shogun groaned deeply in his release, breathing heavily as he eased out of the still youth. “My perfect child. How such pleasure had broken you.” he whispered as the youth man’s eyelids fluttered.
With a moment’s adjustment, he lifted the Nightingale in his arms and carried him into the house. The old man who served him had already laid their futons out, side by side in recognition of their newly bonded status and a set a bowl of water and a cloth aside for them. Slowly, reverently, the Shogun cleaned the youth, pressing a finger to the Nightingale’s lips as he stirred. “Be still and rest.” He cleaned himself swiftly and shed his heavy kimono.
“Will you be with me when I wake Master?” the youth asked, his words heavy and slurred.
“Yes.” The Shogun promised, sliding in at his side. “Now and always.”
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Date: 2010-06-25 11:04 pm (UTC)