Part 3

He fought another yawn, knowing his Master wouldn't like it if he showed how tired he was. It was late, very late - long past the time when his Master usually sent him to bed. Perhaps he'd been forgotten? It would have been easy - he was almost out of sight behind the Master's chair at the table, where he'd been speaking with someone on the telephone for what seemed like forever. He squelched the urge to fidget. His Master had been so proud of him for his discipline - he'd said so. Pleasing the Master was everything.

Finally the Master hung up the phone. He stood and started to move away down the hall, not even looking to see if his newest and youngest slave would follow him.

He did, of course - not to follow was unthinkable. The Master hadn't excused him yet. He trotted along on his spindly little legs, needing to take three steps for each of the Master's just to keep up. He waited for the expected order to go off to his own bed for the night, but it never came.

They arrived at the Master's bedroom, where two of the female slaves were waiting to undress him and prepare him for bed. He stood uncertainly at the foot of the bed, not sure what he was supposed to do now. The Master ignored him, as though he wasn't even there, but that didn't give him leave to misbehave.

Finally the Master shooed the two girls out the door, locking it behind them. He came over to sit on the bed in his brocade robe, his not insubstantial weight making the bedsprings on the Western style bed creak. He patted the silk sheets beside him invitingly.

Uncertainly, the boy approached and was reassured by a nod. He tried to hop up to sit at the indicated spot, but the edge of the bed was raised even higher than most Western beds, and he couldn't get up. Chuckling, the Master leaned down and lifted him under his arms, bringing him up to sit on the bed. He stayed absolutely still, eyes wide - sometimes the Master patted him on the head or touched his shoulder when he was pleased, but he'd never been touched like THAT before. Did that mean he was very pleased?

"Speak to me, child," the Master commanded. "Tell me, do you like it here?"

"Sir?" he asked hesitantly, unsure what the correct answer was.

"Do you like it better than your last Master's harem?"

The answer to that was easy - even if he hadn't liked it better, it would have been wrong to say so. "Oh, yes sir! Much."

The Master reached out and stroked his hair, not ruffling it as he usually did but caressing the way his kaa-san used to do. "That's good. I want you to be happy here. You're a very special little boy, and I have great plans for you."

He basked in the praise, flushing happily and trying not to squirm with pleasure. The Master thought he was special! Special slaves got special treatment, just like his kaa-san told him so long ago - months and months ago, it was. He still missed his kaa-san sometimes, late at night in bed, but he knew she would have wanted him to be happy and please his Master.

"Very special indeed," the Master continued, moving his hand so that he was touching skin instead of hair. His hand stroked down the boy's cheek and back up the side of his neck, making him shiver. The touch was strange, unlike anything he'd felt before, and it made him a little uncomfortable. "You want to please me, don't you?"

He hesitated, not sure the command to speak was still in effect. "Yes, sir, very much," he finally ventured, and the Master smiled at him. He smiled back, glad he'd made the right choice.

"You would never disobey an order, would you?" he was asked, and he shook his head vigorously. The action displaced the Master's hand from his cheek to his shoulder, and the man started stroking his arm instead. "You're such a good boy. So eager and willing to please. Do you know what it is that the slaves do, here in my room at night?"

He shook his head hesitantly. He'd heard some of the older slaves talking about 'servicing' the Master at night, but he didn't know what it meant. He said as much, and the Master laughed.

"Well, it's a very special privilege. Only my very best slaves get to do it. Would you like to do it?"

"Oh, YES!" he said, eyes wide at the very idea. His kaa-san would be so proud, if she only knew!

"What a good little boy you are!" the Master exclaimed. "Now, it's going to seem a little strange at first. But you be a good boy and do what I say, and you'll be rewarded."

He nodded, watching with curiosity as the Master's hand trailed down from his shoulder to his chest. "Take off your shirt," the Master commanded, and he did so. He was dressed in the tight sleeveless shirt and tight pants the Master had given him his first day there, which he had been commanded to always wear unless he was told otherwise. "Good boy," the Master said. "Now take off your pants."

He had to stand to do that, sliding off the side of the bed after glancing at the Master for permission. Getting the pants off was a bit of a struggle, but he managed without even tripping like he usually did. The Master watched him avidly, dark eyes bright with some unknown emotion. He could feel the stare on him like a hot weight, heavy and a little disturbing. "Good boy," the Master praised, and his voice had gone oddly rough. "Now the underwear - you can't be wearing anything at all for this."

He wondered what on earth he would need to be naked to do - the only thing HE knew of that the slaves were stripped for was punishment, but the Master had promised that this was a privilege. He obeyed the order hesitantly, a strange fluttering in his gut starting when the Master reach out to touch his shoulder again.

"Back up on the bed, now," the man ordered, lifting him up again. His fingers lingered, sliding over his hips and stomach and making him shiver. "Kneel there, and let me look at you."

He knelt, tucking his feet under him properly, the pose a little bit difficult to manage on the soft mattress. He kept his hands at his sides, fighting the urge to cover himself from the Master's eyes. It was silly - the Master had ever right to look at or touch him whenever he wanted to. There was no reason to be frightened of it - this was a special privilege!

The Master's hands reach out once more, trailing all over his chest and thighs, making him shiver because it tickled a little. "So soft," the man exclaimed in wonderment. "Such a shame your last Master had no care for you - your back should never have been marred like this," he added, fingering one of the many scars on his back. "Ah well, no matter. Your front is perfect, and your demeanour more than makes up for any flaws you have."

He wasn't sure what all that fancy speech meant, but he got the idea that his Master was pleased again. He flushed with pleasure, smiling happily. "Yes, so pretty when you smile, boy," the Master nodded. "Spread your knees a little now - yes, just like that." His legs were nudged apart by the Master's large hand, until he felt even more exposed. The Master's hand trailed up the inside of his thigh, caressing over the place he went pee from. He shivered again, the rough callus on the Master's fingers feeling almost painful on the sensitive skin there.

"Now you just be a good boy, and hold still," the Master breathed, his voice tight and hoarse. He went still, holding every muscle in place just like he'd been ordered to. It stopped the shivers, but didn't make the fluttery feeling in his stomach go away.

"I'm going to show you something very special," the Master said, reaching down to undo the tie on his robe. It fell away, revealing that he, too, was wearing nothing. "Look, see the differences between us."

He looked, and saw many differences other than size. There was some hair on the Master's chest, not much but some. It circled around the two places that sometimes stood up when he was cold - 'nipples', the older slaves called them. The Master's were standing up now, even though it was warm in the room. The hair met in a thin line, and traveled down over his stomach to a much thicker patch, around the place where HE went pee. It looked funny - all hard and solid instead of soft and flexible, and it stood up away from his body. It was also dark red, like it was burned or hurt, and he stared at it in fascination.

"Isn't it pretty?" the Master asked, and he nodded although he didn't think it was very pretty at all. "Touch it."

Hesitantly, he reached out to run his fingers along it. It twitched beneath his hand, jumping like it was alive, and he snatched his hand back, startled. The Master laughed, and reached down to run his own big hand along it, stroking back and forth down the length.

"Someday I'll let you do this," the Master said, his breathing becoming ragged like he'd run for a long time. "I'll teach you how to touch it with your hands, and with your mouth, too. You won't like it at first, but you're a good little boy and I know you'll do your best. And eventually you will like it just as much as I do."

He continued to watch with wide, uncertain eyes, keeping himself from shivering by sheer force of will. He wanted to please his Master, he DID, but this just seemed so strange... but the Master said he would enjoy it, and the Master was always right. The alternative - punishment like what he'd seen happen to his kaa-san - was unthinkable.

The Master was grunting now, his face red with exertion. His eyes trailed over the slender, exposed boy sitting before him, his free hand coming out to touch him again. He stroked the boy's chest in time with the strokes on his own body, and then his face went tight all of a sudden and hot white liquid sprayed from his body.

At first he thought the Master had peed on him, and he was shocked. But the fluid coating his chest and stomach was thicker and heavier than pee, and a different colour. The Master reached out to rub the sticky stuff over his chest and thighs, spreading it all around on the boy's body. It started to cool almost immediately, congealing into a wet, disgusting mess. "So beautiful," the Master whispered, eyes still feverish. "So very beautiful. You will be the pride of my harem, boy. Now, come lie down here beside me. From now on you will always sleep here, with me, so that I may instruct you every night. You'll be a good boy and learn fast, won't you?"

He nodded as he crawled up to the head of the bed to lie down, wishing he dared wipe the awful stuff off of him. But the Master had put it there, and hadn't said he could remove it, so it would stay. The Master curled up behind him, pulling him against his much larger body so that he could feel THAT part pressed up against his bottom. It didn't seem as hard now, but it still made him uncomfortable. The Master slowly fell asleep, one hand possessively clutching the boy's naked hip...

For the second night in a row Schuldig was shaken out of his nightmares by terror, sending him bolt upright in the bed. He steadied himself with his hand on the headboard, panting and trying to gather his scattered wits. He slammed his shields up as soon as he realized what was happening, blocking out the flood of memories that followed that initial dream. The first nightmare had been bad enough, he didn't need to know the details of Nagi's Masters' perversions. The boy had only been four years old, for crying out loud!

As soon as he had himself under control, he slid out of the bed and ran for the boy's room. No way was he leaving the poor kid trapped in THOSE dreams any longer than he had to! He burst into Nagi's room, striding right over to the bed and reaching out to shake him, bracing himself for the push he knew was coming.

It was stronger this time, a strangled shriek escaping Nagi's throat as he woke abruptly and his powers flung Schuldig all the way across the room and into the wall. It stunned him, and he staggered for a moment. He realized from the way the boy was wildly eyeing the room that he wasn't completely awake yet, still trapped in the horror of the dream.

"Nagi, WAKE UP!" he snapped, backing the order by a burst of mental static to pierce the boy's fear. Nagi jerked his head around to stare at Schuldig, panting and trembling badly.

"Sch... Schuldig?" he whispered, voice ragged with tears and terror. His eyes filled, fat drops spilling over onto his cheeks as he cried. "Schu..."

"Shh, I'm here, you're safe," Schuldig soothed him, coming forward slowly to avoid startling him again. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, and gathered the sobbing boy into his arms. "It's okay. They can't hurt you any more. My god, those sick bastards - you were just a little kid!"

Nagi cried into his naked shoulder, sobbing his little heart out with all the pain he'd held inside for so long finally coming to the surface. Schuldig manoeuvred them so they were in the same position they'd been in the night before, him laying on his back with Nagi tucked up against him, head on his shoulder. He stroked the boy's shoulder soothingly, projecting reassurance and affection as strongly as he could manage. "It's okay," he told him over and over, vocally and mentally, as the tears flowed.

"It h-hurt..." Nagi stuttered, hardly aware of what he was saying but needing to get the feelings out. "It hurt so m-much, and it n-never stopped like he said it w-would..."

"It doesn't always hurt," Schuldig murmured, hugging him tightly. "Sometimes it can be good. Those bastards just never cared enough to make it good for you, that's all. And you were way too little for it when they started. You never had a chance, liebe."

The German nickname slipped from him automatically, but as he thought about it he decided it suited the boy. "Liebchen," he whispered again, stroking his hair. "I'll never let them do that to you again, I promise. Never!" He closed his eyes, feeling the determination well up in his chest, and sharing it with Nagi. "Just go to sleep, liebe. I'll be here to guard your dreams and keep you safe."

For the second night in a row Nagi fell asleep in his arms, face tear-streaked and oddly peaceful, and he reflected as he fell into his own slumber that could get used to this 'helping others' thing if he wasn't careful...

Schuldig reclined against the headboard, reading one of his German novels to the accompaniment of the clicking keys on the keyboard. Nagi was perched on his new desk chair, one that was high enough to put him at a comfortable height relative to the desk. His hands hovered over the keyboard, unmoving - rather than learning to type, he'd learned to use his powers to manipulate the keys. It was still a bit clumsy and slow, but considering he'd only had about three months of practice, he was doing remarkably well.

It had been Crawford's idea to have him use his powers to type - an exercise to help him improve his fine control, he'd said. Nagi had taken to using his powers like a duck to water, once he got over his initial disbelief of them. He used them for everything now - a small trail of floating items could frequently be seen tagging along after him when he went somewhere inside the apartment. It amused Schuldig to no end to watch him unthinkingly reach out to grab something all the way across the room, and have it fly into his hand. If it weren't for the fact that Crawford and Schuldig forced him to practice in physical training with them, and the fact that he wasn't allowed to visibly use his powers outside the apartment, he would have been in danger of becoming incredibly lazy.

In just the three months he'd been with them, his progress had been astounding, though his learning curve was starting to level out now. He'd finally managed to grasp the concept of 'wanting' something now - he could freely tell Schuldig what his preference was in certain cases. Of course his 'preference' tended to resemble what he thought his Master WANTED him to want, but sometimes the choice was clearly his own. For example, given free time and a choice between reading a book, watching a movie and working on his computer, so long as Schuldig made it clear that HE didn't care which the boy chose, Nagi inevitably spent every free moment on the computer.

He was finally starting to get aggressive in their physical training, as well. Crawford was teaching him to integrate his powers into his fighting abilities, and he was showing signs of becoming a very dangerous opponent. He was beginning to grasp the idea that he had skills and abilities that his teammates lacked, and that they genuinely wanted his input on plans and strategies. Crawford always had final veto, of course, but now Nagi was truly part of the team.

He still wasn't 'fixed', not by a long shot. It would take more than three months to undo the damage thirteen years of abuse had wrought. He still had trouble eating without explicit permission, and he never slept well unless he'd been told to sleep. Schuldig had given up the pretence of separate rooms by the end of the first week - he inevitably ended up in the boy's bed, soothing his nightmares, and he was tired of having to get up in the middle of the night to change beds. Nagi kept most of his clothes and his computer and books in his own room, but slept with Schuldig at night.

He also still took just about anything as a rebuke, so much so that Crawford and Schuldig both had to be extremely careful of what they said and did around him. One unintentional harsh look could send him back into meek silence for a day or more, and the one time Crawford had yelled at Schuldig in his presence Nagi had gone back to needing instructions for EVERYTHING for a week, afraid he would merit the same treatment.

Additionally, Schuldig had to be very careful to watch Nagi's mental reactions to some orders. Nagi would do anything he was told to do, no matter how much he personally disliked the activity - Schuldig could have told him to eat shit and swallow it and he would have, with no outward hesitation. But so long as Schuldig kept an eye on what the boy was really thinking, he was able to rescind or change any orders that truly upset Nagi.

Even now he still wouldn't initiate an activity, though he could and would go outside of the initial parameters to complete a task he'd been given. He'd taken to ignoring Crawford's presence almost completely - he would still obey any order given to him by the American, of course, but it was Schuldig that he looked to for praise and approval, and for instructions.

Schuldig glanced over to see what the boy was up to, and saw a black screen with dozens of lines of text. "What are you doing?" he asked curiously. He didn't know much about computers, but he recognized programming language when he saw it. As predicted, Nagi had picked up English almost as fast as he heard it, though he read and understood it better than he spoke it.

"Crawford told me to find out what 'hacking' was, and learn it," the Japanese boy replied, never taking his eyes off the screen. "It's fun - very challenging."

Schuldig snorted and shook his head. Presumably Crawford had been given some sort of vision about the boy's future usefulness to the team that prompted him to instruct Nagi to learn to hack. It shouldn't have surprised him, really - it was exactly the sort of thing Nagi's sharp mind was suited for. "Good luck," was all he said, returning his attention to his book. He was beginning to find that he relaxed better when Nagi was in sight, which was why he was in here reading instead of out in the living room with Crawford or sprawled on his own bed.

*Schuldig,* Crawford's voice came into his mind. *Bring Nagi out here. We've got a job tonight.* Schuldig perked up, interested. The American had been hinting for some time that he was thinking of bringing Nagi along to one of their assignments for Takatori, as part of his training. Schuldig wasn't certain the boy was ready for a step like that - he was still uncomfortable in the presence of anyone but the two of them - but Crawford would of course know whether anything would go wrong. Apparently tonight would be the night.

"Mission," he told Nagi, sitting up and putting his book aside. The boy glanced up, the fragile, uncertain look creeping into his eyes that he always got when Schuldig and Crawford left him alone to go to work. "Don't look at me like that," Schuldig added with a grin. "You're coming too."

Nagi's eyes widened in astonishment, but he obediently shut down the computer and trotted after Schuldig to the main room. Crawford was sitting there in his typical business suit, examining his 9mm pistol. He glanced up as they entered, and nodded for them to sit down. Nagi obeyed instantly, but Schuldig moved to retrieve his own pistols from the locked cabinet where they were kept. He loved his guns, loved the scent of gunpowder and heft of the heavy weapon, loved the feel of the silky metal barrel and the smooth grip.

Crawford shook his head, and gestured him away from the cabinet. "Not tonight," he instructed, and Schuldig glanced at him curiously. He always carried his guns, except when they were going to one of the BDSM parties. "I'll be the only one armed tonight - you and Nagi are for show."

Schuldig frowned at him, not liking the direction this was going. "Why?" he asked bluntly, coming to stand behind the couch and unconsciously reaching out to rest one hand on Nagi's head reassuringly. If he was about to get into another fight with the American, he didn't want Nagi panicking again. "Where are we going?"

"Shigeru's monthly party," Crawford answered calmly, his golden eyes betraying nothing of his thoughts. Nagi stiffened beneath Schuldig's hand at the name of his most recent Master, and Schuldig swore.

*What the fuck are you THINKING?* he hissed at the precognitive in disbelief. *You can't take Nagi to one of those parties! He's not ready for that shit yet! A conference or political gathering, maybe, but not that!*

Crawford's expression chilled by about twenty degrees, but it didn't intimidate the telepath in the least. "It is necessary for all three of us to be present tonight," was all he said, as if that should be the end of it. Normally it would have been - he was all but saying that he'd had an important vision of the night's events - but Schuldig was not just dropping this subject. Nagi still hadn't developed the necessary backbone to say 'no' to someone other than his Master giving him an order, and wouldn't for some time yet. He would be shark bait, and Crawford wouldn't be able to watch him constantly and do his job at the same time. Schuldig would be all but useless for protection, since he was a slave as well.

"You can't!" he exclaimed aloud, forcing his volume down when he felt Nagi jerk in reaction to his tone. *Crawford, you can't do this,* he continued mentally, struggling to stay reasonable. *He can't handle it. One order from one of those fuckers could undo every bit of progress he's made in the last three months. Worse yet, now that his powers are growing, if he panics or gets too confused he could blow half the room up!*

"It is necessary, and it is NOT open for debate," Crawford repeated, glaring back at him. "Nagi will handle it, and that is that." He stood and brushed at a piece of imaginary lint on his jacket, holstering the gun in one smooth motion. "Your outfits are in the boxes on the table. I'll be waiting downstairs - don't take too long."

Ignoring the furious - and rather creative, if anatomically impossible - curses Schuldig was projecting at him, he strode to the door and out into the hall, letting it close behind him. Schuldig gaped after him for a long moment, unable to believe the sheer temerity of the man. "Bastard," he finally growled, free hand clenching into a fist. "You're gonna PAY for this, Brad," he promised under his breath.

"Sch-shuldich?" Nagi stuttered hesitantly, bringing his attention back to the boy in front of him. Nagi had twisted to stare up at him with wide, frightened blue eyes, and he felt guilty for upsetting the kid so badly. "Wh-what's going to happen?"

"We're going to one of the parties," Schuldig told him, telling his voice to be gentle and amazed when it obeyed him. "It'll be okay, I promise. You just do what Crawford tells you, and stick close to me, and you'll be all right. You don't have to follow anyone's orders but Crawford's, okay?"

Nagi nodded, but he was shivering and scared. Schuldig cursed again under his breath, and took the boy's hand, tugging. "Let's go see what he's got for us to wear."

The boxes on the kitchen table were plain white, with no outward indications of what lay within. Schuldig pried up the top of one, and saw a mass of sheer black fabric. He shook out the first piece, and instantly knew it was meant for him - the nearly transparent shirt would have come to Nagi's knees. He dropped it again, and yanked open the second box.

He caught his breath at the sight of the leather inside, and added a few more curses and maledictions to his thoughts of Crawford. *Fuck you, you sadistic bastard!* he projected at the American angrily, hoping Crawford would pick up on the furious thought. The harness and briefs were similar to the outfit Nagi had worn on the night Crawford had first brought him home, all black leather and silver fastenings. The boy shrank back against Schuldig's side at the mere sight of it, shaking harder and clutching at the telepath's shirt.

"It'll be okay," he told the kid, but he knew his heart wasn't in it. He was absolutely livid that Crawford would put the boy through this - and even if it WAS necessary that they all three be there tonight, there was no excuse for making him wear this. He'd never required Schuldig to wear something so degrading - in fact he mostly allowed the telepath to choose his own party outfits, so long as they were appropriate.

Angrily, he dumped the contents of both boxes onto the table. A tube of copper body glitter tumbled out of his, and he understood why the material was so sheer - it would let the glitter underneath be visible. Cursing, he scooped up all the clothes and strode to his room, muttering imprecations in German and English under his breath as he moved. Nagi trailed along behind him, radiating fear and panic, and he tried to make himself calm down for the kid's sake.

He helped Nagi dress first, then directed him to sit on the bed while he got ready. He could see the leather-clad boy behind him in the mirror, and the sight infuriated him further, but he kept a tight reign on his temper. The telekinetic was silent, knees pulled up to his shoulders with his arms wrapped around them, and his eyes followed Schuldig's movements unfailingly.

Reluctantly, he had to admit that the outfit Crawford had chosen for him looked damn good. The copper body glitter smeared on thick and shimmering, and with the sheer fabric over top it looked like he was dressed in tightly interwoven copper strands. The only thing that saved him from total indecency was the solid band of copper material around his groin, in the form of a g-string. Thank god it was well into summer, or they both would have frozen! As it was, they'd both have to wear long coats until they got to the party, to be street-legal.

He projected reassurance as strongly as he could manage at Nagi as they grabbed their coats and headed out the door, burying his fury as deeply as possible. Oh, Crawford was going to get an earful when they were back and the boy was safely in bed, all right! Schuldig had been getting increasingly fed-up with his Master over the last year, and especially over the last three months, but this might very well be the last straw.

As if to add insult to injury, Takatori ordered them all to ride inside the limo with him, rather than trailing him in Crawford's car as they usually did. It was an excuse to let him drool all over Nagi, Schuldig knew, fuming as he tried to block out the waves of overwhelming lust coming from the powerful politician. The man was just disgusting, no question about it, and Schuldig hated being in his company more than anything else on earth.

The ride to the party was interminable, Nagi huddling in one corner of the front seat with Schuldig beside him, hovering protectively and trying not to glare at Crawford and Takatori on the other side.

"Well, it seems you've done wonders with your newest toy, Crawford-san," Takatori said heartily, eyeing Nagi like a rich dessert he wanted to eat. "Quite the quiet, obedient little thing, isn't he? You always seem to end up with the gems. I must admit I regret giving Schuldig up to you - the boy I chose to train instead didn't work out nearly as well." He switched his lascivious glance to the German for a long moment, and Schuldig suppressed a shudder at the memory of how close he'd come to being Takatori's personal sex toy. Only Crawford's intervention and his own mental manipulations had saved him.

"I don't suppose you're any more disposed to lending him out for a night than you were before?" Takatori continued, and Schuldig stiffened. It didn't matter whether the man was speaking of Nagi or Schuldig - neither was acceptable.

There was a pause that felt horribly long to Schuldig, before Crawford spoke - Schuldig shot him an incredulous glance when it seemed that he might actually agree. "No," the American finally said, much to Schuldig's relief. "It takes a difficult balance to train them both to be good slaves and to be competent bodyguards for you, Takatori-sama. I'm afraid breaking that training for even one night with you could prove disastrous."

"Ah, well," Takatori sighed, shrugging. "Next time you express interest in a toy, I'll just have to make certain to get it first, then!" He laughed, as if he'd made some colossally funny joke, his gut shaking with the motion. Crawford simply adjusted his glasses, giving Schuldig a cool look.

*Tell me you weren't seriously considering giving one of us to him,* Schuldig insisted, perturbed.

*If I had, he would have taken it as permission to accost you whenever he liked,* the precognitive replied. *That is unacceptable, and would endanger our true purpose here.*

Schuldig didn't like the underlying implication of that - that if it HADN'T put their mission at risk, Crawford would have agreed. *You had better not start fucking with me now, Crawford,* he warned the American in a dangerous tone of voice. *You swore when I agreed to go with you that he would never touch me, and you had damn well better keep that promise or I will blow your fucking mind out, shield or no shield!*

Crawford maintained his silence, but the glance he flicked at Nagi told Schuldig that it hadn't been the German he'd been considering giving up. *NO fucking WAY!* Schuldig snarled, fighting to keep his expression bland. *Takatori lays one finger on him, and I will shoot it off,* he swore. *You keep him and the other perverts OFF of Nagi, or I will go ballistic on you. Trust me, you do NOT want a pissed off telepath on your hands - I will make your life fucking miserable, do you hear me?*

*I hear you,* Crawford replied calmly, not seeming disturbed in the least by Schuldig's vitriolic threats. *Now pay attention to your job - we're almost there.*

The party was crowded and noisy, as all these events were. Shigeru, the host of the party, was almost obscenely intimate about the way his gaze lingered on Schuldig and Nagi's crotches. He had been Master to both of them in the past, and seemed to feel that still gave him some proprietary rights over them. Crawford wasn't as quick as usual with his cool rebuttals, and Schuldig was starting to worry that his Master really wasn't planning on defending his two slaves from the predators.

He couldn't figure out what had gotten into the American. Ordinarily he was always right on top of events, ready to defend Schuldig from any attempt by one of the other Doms to order him around. His power always let him know when an incident was about to begin, and he was always there to head it off. But now he seemed almost to be hesitating, considering all the possibilities before reluctantly stepping forward to rescue Schuldig - or, more frequently, Nagi - from the sharks. Nagi stuck to Schuldig's side like glue, as if he hoped he could escape notice by blending in with the telepath. For his part, Schuldig did his best to keep any of the Doms from even thinking about trying something with the boy, but it was hard for him to keep track of everyone around them all at once.

Crawford seemed almost determined to separate them, as well - he would order Schuldig to fetch drinks while Nagi stayed behind, or worse yet order Nagi to fetch something while Schuldig stayed behind. Schuldig ranted at Crawford mentally, but either he wasn't listening or he simply didn't care what the telepath thought of his actions. Nagi grew more frightened and withdrawn as the night progressed, reacting to the numerous pinches and pats he received by retreating into his shell.

Schuldig was absolutely livid, and hard-pressed to hide it. He'd promised Nagi that he would protect the boy from exactly this sort of shit, and here he was with his hands tied. He couldn't do anything to help the boy without his Master's permission, and that permission wasn't forthcoming. He scowled as he saw yet another man try to fondle Nagi as the boy made his way back from fetching the latest round of drinks, and sent a sharp stab of agony at the offending Dom. The man pulled back and frowned, puzzled as to why he had suddenly developed a throbbing headache.

It was giving Schuldig a headache, too, trying to keep his shields up enough to prevent him from being caught up in the sadistic lusts of those around him, while still reading enough to block people from going after Nagi. Sooner or later he was going to miss something, and he just couldn't understand why Crawford wasn't taking this more seriously. Anyone else MIGHT have thought Schuldig was making an empty threat - Crawford surely had to see that the future showed a major battle between him and Schuldig if he continued on this path.

"Schuldig," Crawford said, his voice smooth an unworried as always. Schuldig turned to him, still trying to keep one eye on the approaching boy. "I'm getting hungry. Go fetch some of the food from the table over there." He nodded at the sideboard on the far side of the room, and Schuldig gave him a hard stare. There was another table full of food just twenty feet away on the other side - in the direction that Nagi was in. The man was deliberately sending him as far away as possible - why? Those golden eyes were blank, his shield impenetrable as always, and Schuldig reluctantly turned away to follow the order.

He wasn't even halfway there when the wave of terror hit him, making him stagger a few steps. He caught his balance and shielded automatically, throwing up his strongest defences to keep from getting sucked into the panic. Glancing around wildly, he caught sight of Nagi a few feet from Crawford, trembling as Shigeru fondled his ass roughly. Schuldig's nostrils flared with anger, and he switched his gaze to see what Crawford was doing.

The American leaned back against the wall, watching his slave being accosted with a blank expression, as though he didn't have a care in the world. Nagi was frozen, unable to move away and unable to protest, only his mind shrieking his confusion and repulsion. Shigeru gestured obscenely, and Schuldig saw the boy nod his head mindlessly. The Dom unzipped his leather trousers, bringing his dick out, and Nagi dropped to his knees to take the pulsing length into his mouth.

Schuldig swore aloud as he felt the boy's mind begin to recede, retreating into the self-imposed mental prison he'd created to protect himself from his life. He could practically SEE the progress he'd made at drawing the boy out go down the drain. He didn't even realize he was moving towards them until he started picking up the shocked thoughts of everyone around him - he was disobeying an order, returning to his Dom empty-handed after he'd been sent to fetch something.

*Fuck you,* he projected viciously at the room in general, watching with satisfaction as the confusion bloomed on their faces. He focused on the movement of Nagi's throat as he worked along the length of the cock in his mouth, and on the look of lustful pleasure on his former Master's face as he neared release. *Crawford, so help me God, I will kill you if you don't stop them NOW,* he snarled, rapidly approaching the weird little tableaux. Crawford ignored him, eyes steady on the sight of his slave servicing another, his shield more solid than ever.

Schuldig reached his Master, and his hand shot out to grip the man's upper arm painfully. *STOP THEM,* he insisted, squeezing hard enough to grate the bones in the American's arm together. Crawford gave him a cool look.

"Remove your hand, Schuldig," he said aloud, ignoring his teammate's utter fury. "You will be punished for this insubordination."

Schuldig turned to see that Shigeru had clenched his fists tightly in the boy's hair, pulling in a way that surely hurt. Nagi's face was blank, but there was a broken, haunted look in his dark blue eyes. *Stop it,* Schuldig ordered him frantically. *Nagi, for fuck's sake, just stop!*

*You promised,* was his only reply, the thought so faint he could barely hear it even in the echoing emptiness of the boy's mind. *Schuldig, you promised, you said you'd keep me safe, you PROMISED...*

That broken, betrayed whisper was the last straw. His hand flashed out, closing on the butt of Crawford's gun before even he realized what he intended. He had the safety off and a round chambered without thinking about it, and the barrel was pressed tightly to the American's temple.

"Tell him to stop, or I will blow your fucking brains out," he growled, furious green eyes meeting inscrutable gold. "Tell him to stop, Crawford!"

There was dead silence around them, as the activity in the room ground to a halt. No one wanted to miss watching this little drama play out. The only sounds were his own breathing and the choked noises Nagi was making as he worked Shigeru.

"He is my slave to do with as I see fit," Crawford pointed out, apparently oblivious to the danger he was in. Schuldig's finger tightened on the trigger, lips pressed together in a thin white line. "As are you, Schuldig. Stand down."

"Fuck you," Schuldig bit out, he free hand coming up to tug sharply at the collar around his throat. The metal clasp at the back gave way under the strain, sending the thin leather strap tumbling to the ground. "I challenge you, you cold-hearted son of a bitch. For myself, and for Nagi. I have fucking had enough!"

They stared at each other, tension crackling between them. Against anyone else in the room, Schuldig knew that he would easily win a fight, but Crawford was another story. He couldn't use his telepathy to cloud the precognitive's mind, and the American's power let him anticipate any dirty trick Schuldig could possibly hope to pull. If it came to a fight, he was going to lose - but be damned if he wouldn't take Nagi down with him! He'd fry both their minds before he'd let the boy be subjected to this kind of thing again - he'd PROMISED.

"Nagi, come here," Crawford ordered sternly. Schuldig could feel the boy's hesitation - he wasn't finished with the task Shigeru had given him, but Crawford's orders took priority - but Shigeru solved the problem himself. He withdrew from the boy's mouth, apparently fascinated enough by the scene playing out before him that he was willing to forego his own satisfaction to see the results. Nagi stood and came forward to stand meekly before his Master, head down and eyes on the floor.

Crawford reached out and unfastened the clasp on his collar, catching the leather band in his other hand as it fell. Nagi jerked his head up to stare at him in disbelief, and Schuldig felt his own hand waver on the gun. He tightened his grip, wondering what the hell the other man was up to.

"I concede the challenge," Crawford announced, his golden eyes steady on Schuldig's. "The boy is yours - if you can keep him." He reached out and plucked his pistol from the telepath's suddenly numb fingers, holstering it and turning to walk away as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Schuldig stared after him, feeling like he was in shock. Crawford had just willingly given up all claim on them without a fight, as though he'd been planning to do so all along. What the fuck? In the two and a half years Schuldig had been his slave, he had never once mentioned any plans to free the German.

A whimper from beside him made him remember that he had more important things to worry about than Crawford's mercurial temper. He reached out and drew Nagi to him in a tight hug. "Don't worry, Liebchen," he murmured, stroking the child's hair reassuringly. "It's gonna be okay. I'm your Master now, and I won't let anyone touch you. I SWEAR it."

Nagi looked up at him with trusting blue eyes, obviously trying hard not to cry. He nodded, his hand clenched in Schuldig's shirt like he was afraid the world would vanish around him if he let go.

"It won't be quite that easy, I'm afraid," came the voice of the party's host from behind them. Schuldig glanced back to see that Shigeru had zipped himself up, but was eyeing the two of them now like an unexpected treat he'd just been handed. He wasn't the only one - several of the more aggressive Doms were crowding around them, already fighting amongst themselves for the right to claim them.

There was one very easy way to solve this - he needed to have more status than all of them. "I challenge you," he snapped at Shigeru, the man with the highest status present that night. He wasn't at the top of the city by any means, but defeating him would give Schuldig some breathing room.

"Challenge me?" the man repeated in an amused tone of voice. "You can't be serious. You're a slave, boy, and I've taught you humility once before. Or don't you recall what happened the last time you rebelled against me?"

"You can't set your goons on me in the challenge ring," Schuldig countered, lip curled back in a snarl. "You'll have to fight me yourself. Or are you refusing the challenge?"

The murmurs around them picked up in volume a bit at that. No one seemed certain whether Shigeru would loose more face by refusing the challenge and thereby technically forfeiting, or by accepting the challenge from a 'slave', effectively granting Schuldig Dom status whether he won or lost.

"I accept, on one condition," Shigeru finally decided, setting the crowd around them buzzing. "If I defeat you, you will once again be MY slave, as well as Dorei. And I reserve the right to punish you appropriately for your defiance."

"Done," Schuldig bit out, already moving towards the ring that was being set up. Nagi trailed along behind him, looking shell-shocked. Schuldig couldn't blame him - the very idea of a slave becoming a Dom was probably mind-blowing to the poor kid. "You stay here," he ordered, pointing to one side of the ring. "And don't let ANYONE touch you." *Use your powers if you have to, but try not to make it too obvious,* he added mentally. *I'd rather you were obvious than that you let them touch you, though. Can you handle that?*

*I... I'm really yours?* was the incredulous reply. *Really, truly?*

*Really, truly,* Schuldig replied, projecting a burst of affection and reassurance. *Now and forever. Now, can you handle that order?*

*YES!* Nagi answered, in a rush of wild relief. *Anything. Just so long as I'm yours!*

Schuldig ignored the tight feeling he got in his chest at that, concentrating on Shigeru who was just entering the ring on the other side. He sifted through the man's surface thoughts, checking to see if he was hiding any weapons. Sure enough he had a knife in one boot. He was remembering the fight Schuldig had put up the first time he'd tried to end his slavery - he'd very nearly killed six of Shigeru's best guards, and he had put three in the hospital. Shigeru was starting to reconsider how easy this fight would be, but he was still confident of his victory. All it took was one snap of my whip to cow the boy last time, the man reasoned. He may be able to fight guards and weaker Masters, but put him up against a REAL Dominant and he'll fold.

Schuldig snarled at him, gathering his power around him. He tightened his shields, and readied the burst of power that he would need to start messing with the perceptions of his opponent.

"No firearms, no outside help," the officiator declared. "You fight until one of you is unable to continue. Begin!"

Schuldig dropped into the defensive crouch he'd learned from Crawford, keeping his body balanced and his centre of balance low. Shigeru was no stranger to a fight - his stance was similar, up on the balls of his feet with his legs shoulder-width apart, a martial arts stance. They circled each other warily, feinting a few times to gauge each other's defences. Schuldig let his body and instincts take over the way Crawford had taught him, allowing the extensive training he'd had, but didn't remember, to guide his motions. It had been a long fight to get conscious control of some of that ability, but he was at the point now where he would never again have to worry about his fighting prowess deserting him in the middle of a battle.

Shigeru attacked abruptly, and Schuldig dodged him easily, retaliating with a kick of his own that landed solidly in the man's gut. The Japanese Dom fell back, gasping for air, but didn't drop out of defensive stance. He'd had some real training, Schuldig concluded, watching for another opening.

They sallied back and forth for a long few moments, until Schuldig could feel his breath burning painfully and sweat forming on his upper brow. Shigeru was in much worse shape, sweat soaking right through his shirt under his arms and at his back, and dripping into his eyes. He was obviously used to winning his fights right away - either that, or he hadn't been challenged in a while and had let himself start to get soft. Schuldig smirked at him, daring him to drop his defence long enough to wipe the stinging sweat out of his eyes.

Shigeru dropped his defence all right, but only to snatch the knife out of his boot. He brandished it as though it somehow guaranteed him the victory, smirking back at Schuldig who clearly could not be hiding any kind of weapon on his person.

Schuldig didn't let his superior expression waver as he reached out with his mind to touch that of his former Master's. He twisted, shifting the man's perceptions until any attack he made would be against thin air a foot to Schuldig's right. They parleyed back and forth like that for a while, Schuldig laughing in delight at the man's growing frustration. Finally tiring of the game, he convinced Shigeru's mind that he was standing still, while darting forward to snatch the knife out of his hand. He released his hold on the man's mind at the same moment, so that it appeared he had crossed the distance between them in an impossibly fast movement.

The crowd watching them gasped, caught up in the periphery of Schuldig's manipulations. He crowed his triumph, slashing out repeatedly with the knife to make several shallow cuts on Shigeru's torso. The other man scrambled backwards frantically, trying to evade the razor sharp edge of his own knife.

*This is for using me while I was helpless and catatonic in your possession,* he projected, eyes glittering at the man's startled exclamation. *This is for the hell you put me through when I woke up,* he added, slashing again and coming within an inch of castrating the man. *This is for all the times I was forced to FEEL your pleasure at raping me,* another slash at his crotch, *for all the times you gave me to bastards even more sadistic than you were,* yet another stab, *and for nearly selling me to Takatori, the most sadistic bastard of all.* He went for the throat this time, deliberately missing. Shigeru was shouting now, crying for mercy and trying to concede the fight.

"Oh, no," Schuldig growled. "I've waited three fucking YEARS for this, you sick son of a bitch. You are MINE." He snapped out with a low kick, crushing the man's knee joint and sending him stumbling to the ground. Pouncing, he held the larger man down with one hand on his hip, catching his mind up and forcing him to hold still. Slowly and deliberately, he slid the edge of the knife to the base of the man's balls. *And THIS is for what you've done to Nagi.* He jerked upwards, revelling in the man's incoherent screams as the knife sliced cleanly through balls and cock. Holding the bloody object like some grisly trophy, he leaned over and shoved the man's own dick into his mouth, nearly choking him. "Now you know how WE felt," he concluded, eyes shining. Placing his bloody hand in the ruin of the man's groin, he finished by stabbing the knife into his asshole, shoving it in to the hilt. He released Shigeru's mind, and he writhed about on the ground, crying jaggedly.

Schuldig stood, blood dripping from his hands and death gleaming in his eyes, and glanced around at the utterly silent crowd. "Anybody else?" he snarled, meeting each Dom's eyes in turn. Some looked sickened, most looked fearful, and a very few of the slaves looked vindicated. Nagi was watching him with a look of awe and adoration, his complete and utter trust radiating from him in waves. Schuldig shook his head when no one else stepped forward, and made his way back to his new slave's side.

Nagi fell into his arms gratefully, cuddling against him as though they were alone in the room and Schuldig hadn't just turned their former Master into a bleeding, crying mess on the floor. *I would've expected you to be frightened of me now,* Schuldig admitted to him, confused. *I thought you were terrified of violence.*

Nagi shook his head, eyes shining. *You did that for me,* he answered, his mental voice accompanied by all kinds of complicated overtones - joy, disbelief, relief, love, and happiness just a few - but there was no trace of fear in his mind as he buried his face in Schuldig's chest. *You did THAT for ME. I'm yours, and you'll never let them touch me. I'll never have to do that for them ever again - you'll keep me safe.*

Schuldig's eyes softened as he stroked the boy's hair again, wincing as he realized he was spreading blood through it. *I will,* he promised warmly. *I will always protect you. You're mine, and I will never let them have you.*

They stood like that for a moment, just enjoying holding each other in a way neither had ever felt before. The sound of someone clearing his throat just a few steps away brought Schuldig's head up to glare at the source - Crawford.

*If you two are finished, Takatori wants to leave,* he told them blandly. *He's quite impressed by your little display, Schuldig - he's agreed to increase both our salaries by a considerable amount.*

*Salaries?* Schuldig repeated, stressing the plural. This was the first HE'D heard about any payment for his work. He'd always just assumed that Takatori figured paying the Master was the same as paying the slave.

*Your money has been collecting in several investment accounts for you,* Crawford replied, adjusting his glasses in that habitual gesture of his. *Now that you've learned a little restraint with your spending, I don't see why you shouldn't have access to them.*

Schuldig's mouth twitched. *You've been planning this all along, haven't you, Brad?* He threw the last bit in to test the boundaries of this new working relationship Crawford was apparently trying to build between them.

The American winced. *I can't order you not to call me that,* he said stiffly, *But I would prefer it if you did NOT. Whether or not I was planning this is of no consequence now - this is the result, and this is what we have to deal with. I never wanted you as a slave in the first place, as you well know, and I'm perfectly happy to continue working with you as an equal. PROVIDED you remember that I am at all times in charge of our team, as I am the one who can predict the outcome of our actions.*

Schuldig nodded slowly, unable to fault that logic. "Let's go," he said aloud, turning and heading to where he could see Takatori waiting for them. The politician had a new wariness in his eyes when he looked at Schuldig - he'd learned tonight that he could not take the German man as lightly as he'd thought. Schuldig smirked in satisfaction, his hand searching for and finding Nagi's.

*You and me against the world, Liebe,* he murmured for Nagi alone to hear. *You'll always be safe with me.* Nagi sent a wave of trust back up the link between them, clutching his hand like a lifeline. They strode out past Takatori into the night together, and Schuldig was aware that this was the beginning of a new, better time in his life. He squeezed Nagi's hand, content, and faced the world with a smirk on his face that proclaimed that he, Schuldig, was not to be messed with.

|Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3|

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