Dragon Slave (Xellos/Filia version)

Dragon Slave
by Zanne Chaos

Chapter Five


Filia climbed the stairs, keenly aware of Xellos close behind her. When she reached the top landing, out of sight from everyone else, she felt his hands rest securely on her hips. It was only then that she realized how much she craved being near him, and altered her stride to slow down, stepping closer, almost pressing up against his body while they walked.

Xellos reached past her, opening a door and pushing it wide, gesturing to the bedroom. "After you." She entered the room and walked over to the lamp hanging from the ceiling, turning the handle to increase the flame, and in turn the illumination. "Are you tired, slave?" he asked after he locked the door behind them.

She turned around, looking across the room to where he stood, far enough away from the lamp that he was partially in shadow. "Not terribly so, Master," Filia replied.

"Wonderful!" he said, beaming a cheerful smile. "Remove your clothes. I will be back momentarily."

"Mas--?" Filia stopped speaking as she looked around the now-empty bedroom. Feeling unsettled, she removed her headdress and gloves, setting them aside. He returned just as she finished that, and Filia recognized the case in his hands.

"Continue, slave," he said cheerfully, setting the box on the table. "Do you need assistance with your dress buttons?"

"Please, Master?" Filia looked over her shoulder to him as she pulled off her cloak.

"Very well. In a moment. Remove your boots and garters in the meantime.."

Her cherished mace was carefully set on the chair, and she watched Xellos open the case and examine the contents while she pulled off her white boots. She was about to tell him she was finished when he turned to face her, waiting expectantly for her to pull her hair aside and allow him access to the buttons.

She expected him to pull the dress from her, but he moved away after the buttons were undone, leaving her to finish the task of disrobing. Filia felt a bit ill at ease under his calm scrutiny, and crossed her arms.

"None of that, now," he said before she even finished locking her arms together, and she blushed furiously, lowering her arms.

"When I have you disrobe, you are not to cover yourself until I give you permission to do so, is that understood, slave?"

"Yes, Master," she whispered.

"Good, good." He gestured to the bed. "Sit down, slave, and part your legs."

Filia tried to ignore the rising heat in her cheeks at the command, and paused by the bed when she realized she was uncertain to the extent of his orders. He had the case. The Voice might come back, she knew. It was better to obey to perfection than to risk the Voice again. "Do you want my feet on the floor or should I sit further back, Master?"

His smile twisted into a smirk. "Good slave. Feet on the floor, for now."

She smiled slightly, feeling thrilled at the praise, and took the ordered position, resting her hands on her parted thighs.

Xellos approached the bed, hitching up one leg to sit on it in a way that allowed him to face her, with his other foot resting on the floor. He was close enough to touch, but made no move to do so. "I am going to ask you some questions, slave. This should go without saying, and I will never again say this, so you had best remember: I do not tolerate lying. I never have, and any lies will be met with punishment. You will answer me as honestly as you can, is that understood?"

"Yes, Master," she whispered meekly, watching out of the corner of her eye.

"Good. In the meantime, play with yourself."

She blushed deeply. "M-master?"

"Touch yourself. Put your hand between your legs and let me see you stroke yourself while I ask you questions."

Filia closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip anglingling her face away from him while she tentatively slid a hand between her legs, feeling terribly shy and awkward.

"Are you nervous?" he asked. His tone sounded so indifferent, so businesslike that she almost flinched, and barely managed a tiny nod. "You have no reason to be, slave. There is no one else here, just you and I." She couldn't bring herself to look up as her fingers brushed the soft, dry folds of flesh between her legs. "Look at me while you touch yourself."

Filia swallowed hard and forced herself to look up, opening her eyes, only to immediately gasp in sudden shock and a bit of fear. He was staring at her, eyes open, unnatural slits of amethyst glittering in the lamplight, a wicked-looking smirk twisting his lips. Every nerve felt as though lightning raced along it, and she couldn't decide if she hated the sensation, or loved it.

"Now, slave, for the first question." His eyes never left hers, but she felt him tap her arm, just a bit sharply. "I did not tell you to stop." She swallowed nervously and began moving her fingers against the flesh, which was slowly becoming less dry to the touch. "Did you enjoy being whipped?"

She struggled to keep herself from averting her gaze, shivering a bit in embarrassment. "S-sometimes," she stammered quietly, barely able to speak.

"Sometimes?" he pressed. "When? Was it related to any particular task, or to a specific flogger?"

"I...I don't know..." she stammered again, her voice cracking slightly. "There wa... was more than one? I mean two? I don't know."

Xellos reached up and gently cupped his hand against her cheek, stroking her with his thumb. "Slave, don't forget to breathe. Calm down. There is nothing you should be ashamed of, or embarrassed about." His words were like a balm, and she felt some of the adrenaline taper off. "There were just two that were used on you. Now, continue, slave. Tell me what you do know."

"It wasn't all the time," she replied, her voice soft, but steadier. "Sometimes... sometimes it hurt, it burned in my mind and it made the room spin away from me."

"Mmhmm." He continued to gently caress her cheek, and her nerves were slowly lulled into a calmer state. "Go on. When did you enjoy it?"

"Sometimes it didn't hunot not at ait jit just...it was nothing... not like the whipping that made the voice come into my head and make the room spin, nothing like a cane." A warmth began to gradually blossom low in her belly, and her nerves tingled pleasantly as she recalled the sensations. "It almost hurt, but it didn't. It felt...it was warm. It made everything... it made... I don't know how to put it. Maybe I just liked it because it wasn't the one that scared me."

"Something scared you? Tell slavslave."

A little shiver ran through her as she remembered it, and her hand grew still. She crossed an arm over her stomach, trying to quell the panicked flight-or-fight reaction rising up inside her. "Confusion, it was just confusion," she whispered, and it grew increasingly hard to breathe. "It was all so loud. I...it was loud, I couldn't think, couldn't hear... It...it was..." She couldn't control the terror that crashed into her, smothering her. She drew her arms and legs up, starting to curl into a ball, trembling and gasping. "Stop make it stop make it go away no more please no more I can't--"

"Slave!" His tone was sharp enough to cut through the haze, anchoring her into reality. Xellos was holding her tightly, but it was with a tightness which felt safe, not painful. "Look at me. Focus on me," he ordered, touching her cheek, turning her face toward his. "Who am I?"

"Master," she whispered, struggling to catch her breath again, to breathe, looking into his eyes.

"That's correct. I will not allow harm to come to you, slave. You have nothing to fear, no reason to be afraid. The whip cannot harm you again. Not like that." He moved his hand under her hair, to the back of her neck, holding her with a gentle, firm grip. "You are safe, slave." His tone was softer now, and his fingers stroked her skin. "Resume touching yourself. Keep looking at me, and describe what the whip did. You are no longer there. It can no longer harm you."

Filia whimpered as tears stung her eyes. She uncrossed her arms, lowering her legs and resuming her prior position. "I'm sorry, Master," she whispered. A dim and distant thought in her mind noted the absurdity of it all, trying to -- no, eager to please him. Him. Xellos Metallium, priest of the Beastmaster. Absurd. Why should it sting so deeply inside, the thought that she might have displeased him?

"It is quite all right, slave," he said quietly, reaching out with his other hand, gently petting her hair for a few moments. "Just remain calm, and remember I will not allow you to be harmed."

That was why. The distant thought was silenced. He would keep her safe, protect her. She wanted to be with him, belong to him, revel in the security he provided. Security which would protect her even from them. Filia resumed stroking herself slowly, and attempted again to follow his instructions. "It was like hearing something too low to actually hear, something you hear in your bones," she whispered, "and it hurt. I couldn't breathe, but it was only when the whip hit."

"That would be the training whip," Xellos said, still rubbing the back of her neck with that possessive grip. "You enjoyed the other times, yes?"

"I think so," she whispered, gazing up at him in adoration. There was something to his touch which delighted her. The knowledge he could snap her neck with his hand's position easily, the certainty that he wouldn't, and the animalistic possessiveness of it, claiming her as his.

"We'll find out soon enough. As I'm sure you noticed, I took their tools." He smirked, casting a glance to the case on the table.

She watched him, feeling edgy and nervous. A question, a plea was trying to form on her lips, begging him not to bring back the Voice. She would do anything, just so long as he didn't bring it back.

His eyes met hers, and the smirk deepened. "I will not be using the training whip, slave," Xellos said, reaching up to touch her cheek. "I do not need it for you."

"No, Master," she whispered, agreeing readily. Filia closed her eyes, pressing her cheek against his hand. When he pulled away, it felt as though she'd lost something important.

When she looked at him again, he was watching her, sitting back, propped on his hand, a smirk still lingering on his lips. "You've never done this before, have you?"

Filia hesitated, feeling uneasy. "What do you mean, Master?" She shivered a bit, wondering if she were doing something wrong.

"I mean you've never touched yourself before for pleasure, have you, slave? You've never played with yourself," he clarified, and she shook her head. "I want you to answer my questions with words, not gestures."

"I'm sorry, Master," she quickly apologized. "But no, I haven't."

"Then I will tell you what to do. Are you wet, slave?"

Filia bit her bottom lip hard, closing her eyes as a heated blush exploded over her cheeks. Her breath caught in her throat, and she stammered, struggling to form an answer. "S-somewhat, I think, yes."

"Push your first two fingers into yourself, gently."

Filia felt certain that she was blushing enough to melt into a puddle, preferably one that would slip through craccracks in the floor and disappear. What was she doing? It felt wrong, shameful. Punishable.

But she complied nevertheless, even it was with barely just the tips of her fingers.

"Push them deeper," Xellos ordered. "Then withdraw them, and push them back in. Continue with that."

She felt torn. Part of her wanted so desperately to obey -- he did know what was best, didn't he? He proved that, and he took her away from the humans. He would keep her safe, he said so. But touching herself, she felt unclean. In the back of her mind, buried deep in her memories, she could still remember her lessons, her teachings from the temple with a crystal clarity that flooded her with shame.

She did as he ordered, struggling against the tears she could feel welling up inside. She mustn't displease him; what if he tired of her, threw her back to the Elders? A storm of 'what-ifs' bombarded her thoughts, almost drowning him out, shutting away the room, and there was no pleasure, only fear and guilt.

"Are you afraid?" he asked, his voice cutting through her inner thoughts.

She froze up, staring at him, wondering what her answer should be. "I...yes, and more," she stammered under her breath, trying not to panic.

"More?" He reached up, brushing her bangs out of her eyes, then touched her cheek. "Talk to me, slave. Why are you crying?"

"I don't want to displease you, I don't want you to throw me away," she whispered. "I don't want to go back there."

Xellos arched an eyebrow. "Back where? The town?"

Filia shook her head. "No, Master. The Temple."

Xellos' smirk disappeared, and she shivered, watching him study her with those open eyes, his expression almost frightening in its complete lack thereof. Then he brushed his hand through her hair, and she almost nuzzled him, choking down a sob of relief at the soothing touch. "Don't worry about that, slave," he said quietly. "What else are you feeling?"

She hesitated, not wanting to answer, but she knew she must. "Embarrassed," she admd.
d.

He leaned closer, and she felt his lips on her neck, his teeth nibbling her gently, his tongue tracing her ear. Her nerves caught on fire, and her breath lodged in her throat. "In time, that will fade," Xellos whispered. "What else is there?"

Filia could barely make her voice work. "Shame," she whispered.

Xellos drew back just enough to look in her eyes, his face mere inches from her own. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "And tell me, slave, why do you feel shame from obeying your Master?"

She almost flinched, shaking her head slightly. "It's not that, Master. It's... I... the Temple..." she stammered.

He touched her cheek. "They are no longer a concern of yours. Whatever was said and done, it is in your past. I our our future, slave."

"Yes, Master, my future," Filia whispered, nuzzling his hand.

*****

Xellos slipped his arm around her, and she immediately snuggled close to him, purring quietly. He was pleased to note that she did not cease following his orders even then. The thought of a Dragon actively seeking out his company, his touch, his approval, feeling safe with him -- it amused him.

She had known all along for certain who he was, and still turned to him. In her own words, she had ultimately chosen to remain with him rather than rn ton to her temple and her duties. But that had been a choice borne from fear, a choice which had Xellos as the far less dangerous, and more acceptable path.

He frowned slightly as he considered that. He knew the clan which Filia belonged to was led by hypocrites, but he had never stopped to wonder just how deep that hypocrisy ran. Xellos sincerely doubted that they lacked any knowledge of the town which they had just departed, but knew for certain that Filia had honestly no clue about what she had insisted on walking into.

They had placed a heavy burden on a Dragon who was barely an adult, and he would not be surprised to discover if she had been a novice until only recently. They sent her out among humans with virtually no awareness of what she might encounter, and from her reactions, would undoubtedly punish her for any errors that absence of information might lead her to make.She She was a child, and had not been chosen for this assignment for any deep understanding of the prophesy which she spoke so often about. She was sent out to find someone, to bring them back, aer cer confidence was in actuality false bravado.

If it were all truly as important as the Elders claimed, why then, he wondered, did they choose someone so young and untrained for such a crucial task? Certain facts were not adding up, and he had a feeling she was merely a pawn in a larger game.

Beastmaster had no real choice but to grant Hellmaster his request, and Xellos had not enjoyed being kept in the dark, following orders blindly. He enjoyed it even less when he realized that Phibrizo was moving them all around like pawns on a giant chessboard, and felt no regret when he met his fate at the hands of L-sama herself. But he had the years and the experience and the guile to keep on top of things for the most part. Filia's faith was as blind as a child's and fueled by inexperience, naïvete, and fear.

She wasn't that intolerable, now that she had quit berating, insulting, and fighting him at every turn. She was just a woman-child, painfully insecure and frightened. Normally, Xellos would not have even thought twice about it, but his loyalty to his own master was from the belief that she wouldn't arbitrarily stab him in the back and leave him for the wolves -- proverbial or otherwise. If he failed her, displeased her, then perhaps. But otherwise, so long as he took care to remain in her favor, he trusted that would not be the case. While he had no idea if Filia had displeased the Elders, the blind determination which she had shown before suggested that she was obedient.

The notion that they might have merely chosen her as a disposable pawn for no other reason than because she was obedient enough to make it easy to do so angered him. If that were the case... She was his, and they would not get away with it.

He looked down at the blonde, and studied her face, with her closed eyes, the faint flush on her cheeks, and the tiny, contented smile curling her lips. Part of her allure before had been her spirit and her temper, and perhaps in due time, he could allow them to return.

But if the training should fall apart, he wondered if she would blame him for it all, and turn on him. It was likely. There was a chance she wouldn't, but it was too high a risk to take. Once he was certain of her loyalty, then he would allow it. But he had given his word to keep her safe, and if that meant it had to include keeping her safe from herself as well, so be it. Only by remaining with him could he guarantee her security.

Xellos nuzzled her ear gently, then pulled away, getting up. She opened her eyes and looked at him with such a curious blend of hope, adoration, and rejection that he couldn't help but smirk slightly. "Move onto the bed and lay back, slave. Spread your legs."

She quickly complied, and began to follow his new orders as he instructed her to continue touching herself, and to stroke her breasts with her other hand. He watched her briefly, considering what he wanted to do.

There were two kinds of loyalty. One was derived from fear, and the foundation was not the most solid. The other stemmed from devotion, and that could only be broken if the one who had been granted that loyalty and devotion chose to break it personally. This he knew from experience.

A little bit of reward could go further than any mind-alteration magicks or fear ever would.

Xellos knelt at the foot of the bed and willed his clothes away. She watched him, parting her legs slightly in anticipation, but he had other plans in mind. Lowering his head, he gently licked her inner ankle before delivering a sharp nip to the same spot. Her shiver evolved into a gasp, and he slowly worked his way up, alternating between her legs, never giving her any pattern, any way to anticipate which touch she would feel next, a lick or a bite.

By the time he was tracing up her inner thigh with the tip of his tongue, she was trembling, breathing unsteadily, and arousal had brought a pleasant flush to her face and chest. Her hand grew still as he kissed the back of it, and she quivered slightly. But he continued on, lazily drawing his tongue along where her hip met her thigh, only to deliver a quick, sharp bite just inside the rise of her hipbone.

Filia cried out softly, a tiny, shrill gasp. He kissed his way up her stomach, and her flesh quivered whenever he grazed it with his teeth, stirring up an anticipation that he might bite. He never did, preferring to remain unpredictable, to leher her guessing, wondering.

Xellos held himself up over her, between her legs, looking down her. He felt her calf rub against his thigh lightly, and smirked.

"I control what you may have, slave," he said quietly. "And right now, I have another use for you. Place both of your hands on your chest." She did so, watching him curiously as he moved up further, shifting position to straddle her hips, pinning her down. Then without warning, he gripped her wrists and held them above her head, forming binds over them to secure them in that position.

She looked up at him, fear at war with trust, and the adrenaline-flavored thrill of confusion was delicious. Xellos smirked, moving back to support himself teasingly between her legs once again, and lowered his head. He dragged his tongue over a nipple before suckling on it lightly. Filia purred, writhing under him at the contact. Without warning, he bit down just hard enough to elicit a flash of pain, and was already licking it soothingly before the brief spark diminished. He repeated the process over and over, moving between one nipple to the next, blending pleasure and the mild application of pain so seamlessly that Filia could no longer tell which was which.

She was wet, radiating the heat of arousal against him as he moved his hips, teasingly rubbing against her folds, heightening her desire without any fulfillment. Finally he pulled away, moving back on the bed. She whimpered in frustration, pulling against the bind, but they held fast.

No one would hear her, of this he was certain. It required a bit of his power to create a soundproofed shield, but it was well worth it.

Xellos smirked down at the naked Dragon and lazily brushed his fingertips over her stomach, watching her flesh quiver in need. Then he teleported, moving far too quickly for her to process what was happening, to react, to anticipate, and reappeared between her legs. Xellos wrapped his arms around her thighs, pinning her hips to the bed, reaching up, squeezing her nipples between his fingers, and raked his tongue over her clit before burying it in her.

Filia screamed, but the sound lacked volume as all the air had left her lungs just a moment before. Her hips strained against his arms on reflex as a powerful shudder ripped through her body. Xellos did not ease up with his attentions on her increasingly sensitive pussy, pushing her over the edge into one orgasm after another without ever letting her come down from the previous one.

Then just before he drove her into unconsciousness from the prolonged pleasure, he swiftly moved away, moving above her, and entered her with a powerful thrust. She shuddered and her body strained against his as her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, eagerly trying to match his thrusts with her own, craving him. Filia's eyes were bright in arousal, and she licked his bare chest, nuzzling him.

Xellos moved his hands under her body, wrapping his arms around her as he bit her neck, holding her to him securely. Even with her arms bound, she clung to him in every other way coulcould, gasping his name -- her title for him -- as she breathlessly fell into her final climax, the prolonged extremes of pleasure dragging her down into unconsciousness.

Xellos drew back; while sexual gratification was no less enjoyable, he was hardly a mortal creature of flesh, and there was no true drive behind it. Besides, his goal was accomplished. This had been for his pet, her reward. He gently brushed her sweat-soaked bangs off her face, and stretched out on the bed beside her, drawing her close to him while he waited for her to wake up.

to be continued...