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Phoenix by Raye Johnsen Chapter 3 Raoul was not in the most alert of states as he entered his rooms. He allowed the servitor to remove his outer garment and guide him to his dining area without any thought to the man. All his attention was focussed on Katze and the future meeting. How do I convince him I don't intend to compromise on leadership here? I'm in charge, at his request. I am not going to be his puppet! A soft sound made him glance up. The two Pets he'd purchased earlier that day at the auction, that he'd ordered for entertainment at dinner, had begun their entertainment. They were in a small nook to one side of the area, carefully designed and lit so that all sitting in the dining area could see the occupants, but anyone actually in the entertainment area couldn't see out of it. Raoul found that this often lessened the selfconciousness of performers - they couldn't see the audience so they didn't always remember it was there. This certainly seemed to be the case tonight. The taller Pet was kneeling before the smaller, kissing him deeply and holding his head down, while his other hand moved in delicate, fluttering patterns over the other's abdomen. The smaller's soft cry had roused Raoul from his reverie. The taller released his partner's head, moving down his body. The other flung his head back, crying out, "Tir... oh, Tir..." The taller - He must be Tir, Raoul thought - lifted his head from the smaller's chest. "Why, Kirel," he purred, "I thought you enjoyed that. Don't worry, instead I'll do - this..." Kirel cried out, half articulating words of mingled appreciation and protest at Tir's deliberate misunderstanding. Raoul found himself caught again in fascination, staring at the two Pets as Tir plundered Kirel's willing flesh. One part of him recognised the actions as a relatively ordinary demonstration of pleasure dominance; but another part was intrigued by Tir's concentration as he pleasured Kirel's nipples, then began to lave his sternum. As the smaller Kirel writhed under Tir's deft handling, Raoul felt as though he were wrapped in a cocoon with the two. Tir was concentrating solely on the boy who stood before him, an intensity in his actions that Raoul had never seen in any Pet before... but he had seen it before... where had he seen it before? Iason, he suddenly remembered. Iason had that look, whenhe spoke to or of Riki - he was that intense. Iason and Riki were lovers. For some reason, the fact, intellectually accepted for some time, now truly impacted. Perhaps because of the Pets before him, Raoul suddenly saw how it must have been - the gentle touches, sweetly tortuous, the whispered words, intense in their impermanence, the intimacy, all the more powerful for being forbidden. All combined, the temptation was nearly irresistible, and for the first time, Raoul didn't blame Iason for his weakness, but began to understand the quixotic strength of a lover. He began to imagine himself in the same position as Tir - perhaps reaching down to grip the cock of the man beneath him while whispering sweet endearments in his ear. The notion of doing that to Katze, the juxtaposition of soft words and cruel handling, appealed in a way he'd never anticipated... Katze? Surely, he was thinking of a Pet? Even Iason had never stepped that far beyond the boundary, limiting his activities to Riki, a Pet which he had control over. Not absolute control, of course - Riki had not been tamed till he was adult and no animal, if it spends its juvenile years in the wild, ever becomes completely tame. But Iason had desired Riki's wildness as much as anything else about that unusual, unique Pet whose existence was such a flagrant exception to every accepted standard. A Pet was safe - he could be taken, kept, tamed, as Iason had with Riki. Katze was a completely different case. He held power and position - he couldn't simply disappear without a serious disruption to the peaceful running of Tanagura. Raoul couldn't agree with that. Besides, Katze was not just the chief of the black marketeers, either. He displayed the manners of the inhabitants of Eos, while wearing the garments of a Ceres mongrel. He spoke in the tones of the elite while moving in the graceful patterns of the trained fighter. Whatever he is, it is more than he has said. In the words of the philosopher, 'I am all that I state - I have not stated all that I am'. I won't fall into that trap. But the mental image of himself with Katze still wouldn't go away. Katze smiled proudly, even as he gunned his way down the freeway. Various other drivers made their displeasure with his flagrant disregard of road signs, speed limits and general driving etiquette known with a variety of horn beeps, foul language and obscene hand signals. They were all ignored as Katze sped toward Ceres through the evening traffic. While he roared back towards his own territory, scattering mayhem, chaos and minor traffic infractions in his wake, he grinned. In its way, he supposed, his original plan - to create the leader the city needed - had succeeded admirably. Living with that leader is going to be a different thing altogether. But why was he musing on Raoul's clear blue eyes? He had plans to make, options to examine and initiate or discard, a partnership to build. There was no time to muse on how the Blondie's height and broad shoulders made his own respectably-tall body seem almost as petite as a Pet's, or how the blank mask Raoul's face had smoothed into seemed so out of place on his charming features. He is, in his own way, more beautiful than Iason ever dreamed of being... Katze stamped down on the treacherous thought hastily. He had a meeting to prepare for.
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