damned_institute | Nightshift 33: Disciplinary Therapy Room 4 (M-U for Shadow)

"I see you have some manners." Dyran snorted. "I have shown to much lenience. I have allowed my son to afford you luxuries no miserable human should be allowed. It is time you learned your place. And time he learned your place as well - at his heels, not in his bed."

Shadow licked his lips as he knew where this was leading, his mind rushing to find ways around the el-Lord's temper. He'd been in this position before though he had managed to avoid alerting Lord Dyran's attention to his relationship with Valyn. If the way he had reacted the last time he opened his mouth to defend Valyn then he was in for a rough night.

"My Lord," he said softly, though he didn't dare look away. He was afraid of Dyran but he wouldn't back away from a challenge. "Lord Valyn can make his own decisions which includes who invites to his bed. My place is wherever he deems it should be."

"My son is a fool." Dyran bent, narrowing his cat slitted green eyes at Shadow. "Who doesn't understand how your kind should be treated." He loomed over the slave, appraising him, sizing him up.

"Though I suppose I should be pleased his tastes are at least aesthetically pleasing." One of Dyran's hands moved to brush at Shadow's hair, deceptively gentle. "You are a fetching thing. I imagine you'd be wearing a concubine's collar had the boy not snatched you up."

Shadow did his best to pull his head out of Dyran's reach but the straps held him firmly. "I suppose I should be thankful that he took a liking to me first," Shadow replied, watching Dyran's every move. "I would rather be his servant then a concubine. Although, I do enjoy your own harem so I suppose the life of a concubine wouldn't be that much of a stretch for me."

Dyran wasted no time in hitting Shadow, slapping him across the face soundly.

"You will learn your place," he repeated, much as the doctor earlier had as well. He grabbed Shadow's chin in his hand, forcing the slave to look him in the eye.

"I am your Lord, even if my son fancies himself your master. And you will remember that. You submit to my will."

His head jerked to the side, his cheek stinging with the force of Valyn's slap. Shadow knew that it was coming. His adventures in the harem was a sore spot with the el-Lord but he couldn't help but point it out. It would get him hit yet it felt as though Shadow had won at least a little ground.

"I remember, my Lord," Shadow said, his voice strained. "I've had that fact beaten into many times."

"And yet you too often forget." Dyran's fingers squeezed the boy's chin. "If my son wishes to keep you as a pet, then you will be his pet. Not his equal. And he will learn to....share."

Dyran's fingers moved over Shadow's cheek, stroking lightly.

A sliver of fear buried into his belly as Dyran's fingers brushed against his cheek. Even after all of the beatings Shadow had never thought that Dyran would think to share him. He never wanted to see that side of Valyn's father. Shadow doubted that it would be anything remotely enjoyable.

"I didn't think I was to your liking," he replied. "Especially since I lack certain aspects the women in the harem all possess."

Dyran snorted, his fingers sliding into Shadow's hair with deceptive fondness. "I am willing to deviate in order to teach my son a much needed lesson. But I prefer my slaves more...agreeable. The time has come to recondition you, boy."

Shadow's eyes widened and lost all of the composure that he was clinging to. "That's not necessary," he said quickly, struggling against the straps that held him down. "I am agreeable, my Lord. I know my place. Whatever you wish me to do I... I'll do."

He turned his head and kissed Dyran's palm, hoping to distract the elf from his plans. He was desperate now.

Dyran chuckled, allowing the boy to make his meager offers.

"And have you not promised before?" he asked, his voice silken and deadly as he stroked and petted Shadow like a lover. "And has not my son promised to keep you in line? And yet you continue as you are, a mere dog allowed to sit at his master's table and mount his master's bitches. No more. My decision is final. You will be returned to the young Lord when you have been properly reconditioned."

"Please, my Lord," Shadow begged, continuing to slide his lips against the parts of Dyran's skin he could reach. "I have been trained well despite what you think. If you recondition me all of that will be lost."

"Training!" Dyran removed his hand and laughed. "What training? Do you think I don't have eyes and ears? Do you think I don't see what you are allowed to do in my absence? Bed my women, lay hands on my weapons, speak insolently to my overseers...."

Dyran cracked his knuckles, the sound of gathering his magic audible in the room now.

Shadow's heart began to pound as he could feel the air thicken around him. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was as close to death as Shadow had ever become and he couldn't control his fear. Was this what Valyn had felt stepping into that tent? Ancestors, he wished he had left a note for him, some sign, some message. He hadn't even seen him one last time.

"My Lord," he said, taking deep breaths. "El-Lord Valyn is of your temperament. When he sees that I have been changed he will be displeased. Will you risk angering your son into something drastic?"

A flick of Dyran's hand and Shadow's body jerked, hit with a mage lash.

"Enough out of you. A slave does not argue with his Lord. A slave is grateful that his Lord does not decide to feed him to the gladiators or hunting hounds. A slave is thankful for whatever life his master allows him!"

Shadow cried out as he was struck, the pain familiar and yet still unwelcome. But Lord Dyran hadn't begun to recondition him yet. If only he could keep him distracted perhaps the night would end and he'd wake up, safe in his bed.

Had he been thinking correctly he would have laughed at how ridiculous it was to feel safe at Landel's.

"I am grateful," he snapped. "But it is not you who gives me mercy. Master Valyn is the one who I choose not to argue with, who I thank the Ancestors every day that he doesn't turn me away. He is the one whose word I will follow. Not yours. He's nothing like you. He actually makes the Hernalth name a proud one to bear."

"Enough!" Dyran moved out of Shadow's line of vision, returning with a leather band in his hand. A slave collar.

"You forget that my son answers to me. And he is young. He will realize how poorly he has acted in regards to you. When you are fixed and behaving as fitting, he will realize."

Another mage lash, for good measure.

Shadow cried out even though he clenched his teeth to muffle the sound. The sting of the mage lash left him feeling raw, his skin tingling from where he was struck. He should stop now, he knew that. Keep his mouth shut before Dyran decided he wanted to get rid of Shadow more permanently but the sight of the slave collar renewed his struggle. He couldn't just give up. It wasn't in Shadow's nature.

"How little you know your son," he shouted at Lord Dyran. "He will destroy you! I saw it happen. You're dead. You don't even exist and it was your own son who causes it! If you recondition me you'll only speed your own demise."

Another mage lash, harder than the first two.

"You have overstepped your boundaries." Dyran advanced, clicking open the collar and holding it poised to snap onto Shadow's neck. "And I will tolerate your insolence no longer. You have only proved that I am correct. You were improperly trained, snatched up and tied to Valyn's side far too young."

The lash struck against already sensitive flesh, causing Shadow to scream loudly, thrashing against the straps that held him down. He leaned against the bed, his breath coming in pants as he gazed up at Dyran. He spat in the elf's face, wanting one last sign of rebellion.

"Son of whore," he gasped, not caring that he'd crossed a line he'd never be able to return to. "You've no idea what you're about to cull. What's been sleeping underneath your nose all this time. Do it, then! Get it over with. I'm ready."

Dyran flew into a rage. His hands came down on Shadow's face, his chest, beating him with his bare fists, the metal edges of the collar cutting into him. The elven Lord's face was white with rage, and once he had satisfied his temper....

"I know exactly what I am about to cull," he hissed. He leaned in, mouth at Shadow's ear. "Do you think I would not recognize my own blood, as tainted and twisted as it has become with human filth?"

There wasn't anything Shadow could do to defend himself from the flurry of blows. He cringed, trying to curl into a ball but the straps held tight and he had to take each punch, pain blossoming all over his face and chest. He heard a crunch and a horrible, throbbing pain radiated from where his nose had been. He grunted and groaned, trying to get away from the violent outburst.

The blows stopped, giving Shadow a small reprieve. The whispered words made him forget the physical pain, his eyes wide with fear. "How...?" he whispered.

"Because I am not a fool." Dyran's voice was deadly again. "I know your birthright. How does it feel? To hate me, but be of my own kin? How does it feel to be such a depraved animal, you rut with your own flesh and blood?"

Shadow gritted his teeth together but he couldn't stop himself from responding, letting his mouth move before thinking about what he was saying. "Ask your son," he blurted out. "Or are you suggesting he was unable to turn my advances away? I've heard no complaints."

"My son is a fool who suffers the same weaknesses we all do," Dyran snapped. "He is weak to his pleasures. He is young and foolish and easily blinded. I have no doubt you seduced him."

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