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Part 7 Schuldig kept his eyes lowered as he manoeuvred his way through the guests, making sure the tray he was carrying didn't tilt or spill at all. As he passed by, people reached out to pluck drinks from the lacquered surface, some also patting or pinching him in various places on his body. He didn't react, used to the treatment from his Master's guests. The delicate-looking chain that hung between his wrists tinkled merrily, creating a kind of music to his steps. Even after nearly half a year he still wasn't used to the sound - the death knell of his freedom. The chain was far stronger than it looked; not that he had tried to escape. He had no desire to find out what his Master would do to punish him for a second attempt at rebellion, and so he had learned to submerse his sarcasm and defiance in the proper subservient attitude. It had been difficult at first, but he had immersed himself in the minds of his fellow slaves in order to learn the skills he needed to survive. Now all that remained of whoever he had once been was the occasional nightmare of lifeless bodies strewn about his feet in a fancy ballroom, and the power that allowed him to read the minds of those around him. Perhaps 'allowed' was the wrong word - 'forced' might be more accurate. Every time his Master took him, or allowed a guest to take him, he was forced to experience it through the mind of his rapist, enjoying every moment of his own pain. In the first few months, he'd often been sick after a 'play session', his body reacting to the roiling emotions within him in a physical way. Eventually that knee-jerk reaction had ceased, leaving him empty except for the emotions of those around him. He sensed his Master searching for him, and deftly deposited his tray on a table. Turning, he hurried over to the throne, still keeping his eyes carefully on the floor before him. It wouldn't do to accidentally look a Dom in the eyes and be accused of insolence - his back still ached from the last punishment he'd received for some trifling error. There was a cluster of men around the throne - politicians and businessmen, friends of his Master. He recognized them from past parties, and shuddered; their leader, Takatori Reiji, had very nearly killed Schuldig the last time he'd 'played' with him. The bastard had kept going long after blood loss threatened to make him pass out, with his Master and the others laughing uproariously in the background. He prayed he wouldn't be given to Takatori as a plaything tonight. "Ah, Schuldig!" his Master called as he scurried up to them and bowed low before the throne. "How do you always know just when I want you for something? I swear, boy, it's like you can read my mind." Schuldig remained silent, eyes on the ground, knowing he hadn't been given permission to speak. He pulled his mind in tightly, not wanting to feel the lecherous thoughts of the men around him before he had to. Something tugged at him, though - something out of place, a feeling of shock and disbelief. The 'feel' of the mind was both familiar and yet not. Tentatively, he snuck a look from the corner of his eye, through the fall of his shoulder-length red hair. He saw a tall gaijin staring back at him, golden eyes framed by steel-rimmed glasses. He got an impression of ascetic features and a smartly tailored business suit before he lowered his eyes again- one of Takatori's aides, perhaps? He was too young to be a contemporary of the powerful banker and politician. "Crawford-san, you see here the finest of my friend Shigeru's harem. Schuldig is quite the little slut - he loves it no matter how rough or painful you make it." Schuldig gritted his teeth at that, and with a flash of his old personality, he wished he dared tell the bastard off. *Lukas?* came a startled voice in his mind. Just another random thought that his powers picked up - except he had the oddest impression that this thought was aimed at him. *My god - Lukas is that you?* He ignored the voice as he ignored them all, waiting for his Master's permission to move from the crouching bow he was in. "Rise, Schuldig," the man finally said, and he stood smoothly. He kept his eyes on his Master's feet, but now he could get a better look at the new man from his peripheral vision. He looked to be in his early twenties, and he was indeed dressed in a very expensive suit, but the slight bulge under his left arm gave him away - he was packing a gun. A bodyguard, then. The man was still staring at him, looking as though he was struggling to control his shock. Why was Takatori, notoriously rude to all his servants and hired help, bothering to talk to his new bodyguard? "You seem quite enamoured with your new bodyguard, Takatori-san," his Master commented, echoing Schuldig's own thoughts. "I've never known you to be so civil to your hired help." The observation was barbed, a subtle insult, and Takatori didn't miss it. "Crawford-san is the best that money can buy, Shigeru-kun," the beefy man replied stiffly, deliberately using the honorific that would imply that he was above Schuldig's Master. "He's not just a bodyguard - he's in charge of all my security forces. Why, he's already ferreted out two traitors on my staff! Which is why he's here with me tonight - not as my guard, but as a reward. And to see if his tastes run similar to mine, eh, Crawford-san?" Takatori elbowed his gaijin guard in the manner of a man sharing a joke with a friend. Crawford nodded absently, shoving his glasses further up his face in a habitual gesture. "Of course, Mr. Takatori," he replied smoothly. His eyes never left Schuldig's face. *For God's sake, what happened to you?* Schuldig couldn't ignore the fact that the query was being directed at him. It had a power and cohesiveness behind it that was lacking in the thoughts he picked up from other people - this man knew what he was, and how to communicate with him. *Who are you?* he returned uncertainly, not quite sure that his reply would reach the strange man. He'd never tried sending a thought to someone else. The man's face had returned to that impassive blankness that all professional servants cultivated, but his eyes gave him away. He was startled and upset - obviously he had expected Schuldig to know him. *Don't you know?* Crawford asked, mental voice agitated. *No,* Schuldig replied shortly. He didn't like the strange ache that was forming in his chest at the sight of this strange man. Perhaps he had known this Crawford once before, in his previous life - but it didn't matter now. He was only Schuldig. Crawford continued to watch him as his master ordered him to serve the men - he scurried about getting drinks and snacks, long practice making him efficient at the task. *Why do you let him do that to you?* the American - he wasn't sure how he knew the man was American, but he was certain of it - asked him tightly. *Do you think I have a whole lot of fucking choice?* he snarled back, pointedly rattling his chains as he passed the gaijin. Something about this man brought back the emotions he'd been suppressing for so long, the anger and hatred at his situation. The other man frowned and said nothing, but continued watching him. Thankfully one of Takatori's companions expressed a dislike of gaijin, so another slave was chosen to 'service' the men. Schuldig merely had to keep their drinks full and fetch anything they required; though the reprieve did not save him from numerous pinches and pats and other more intimate touches, it did at least spare him the agony of his previous encounters with Takatori. He shut his mind to their lust as best he could, and to the pain of their playtoy. It was an effort, and he was trembling by the time they finished with the poor boy. His body was hard, his aroused state made obvious by the filmy outfit he wore. Crawford gave him a sharp look when he saw that. *You're enjoying this?* he asked in disbelief. Before Schuldig could snap back at him, he reconsidered his statement. *No, you're not. You're caught up in THEM enjoying this, aren't you? Why don't you shield them out? They're not projecting all that strongly.* *Easy for you to say,* he snapped in reply. *Maybe you'd care to give me a lesson some time? What I'm doing sure as hell isn't working.* The American fell silent again. "Well, Crawford-san, what do you think of our little entertainment?" Takatori asked his bodyguard, flushed and sweating with his exertion. Crawford had abstained from participating, though his golden eyes had appeared to drink in every detail. "Very interesting, Mr. Takatori," Crawford replied in his silky voice, "but a bit crude for my tastes, I'm afraid. I prefer a bit more participation on the part of my partner, as it were." Takatori laughed heartily, as though Crawford had made a joke. He appeared to have genuinely missed the distaste evident in the American's voice - then again, he was drunk enough to miss a herd of elephants stampeding through the room. "Well, there's no need for the boy to be trussed up like a chicken, of course. I prefer them a bit more active, myself. Take Schuldig, here," and he snagged the redhead by his waistband and dragged him over. Schuldig held still and tried not to retch as Takatori wrapped an arm around him and dropped one hand down to fondle his erection. Instantly the man's mind pushed at his, prying and invading and threatening to consume his own personality. "Schuldig is always happy to participate, aren't you, boy?" the politician asked him, giving him a harder squeeze to emphasize his words. Schuldig kept his mouth shut, knowing from past experience that if he answered the question his Master would punish him for speaking without permission. His Master had a small smile on his face as he eyed his friend and slave. "Yes, Schuldig is quite a gem. It's hard to believe he's been with me for over a year, now. He's managed to keep my attention long after others have lagged." Takatori expressed his surprise. "A year? That must be some kind of record for you, Shigeru! You have a notoriously short attention span. I don't suppose you'll be thinking of selling him any time soon?" The Master gave Takatori a considering look. "Perhaps. For the right price, and to the right customer. Are you interested?" Schuldig drew in a sharp breath, and tried to quell the shaking that had begun in his limbs. His life through this past year had been bad enough - he didn't want to contemplate life as Takatori's private slave. At least his current Master generally made sure his slaves were well taken care of when they weren't at parties; Takatori's slaves frequently wound up dead or worse. Silently, he prayed that his Master would decide he couldn't part with Schuldig just yet. *Would you consent to being MY slave?* Crawford asked him in a strained tone. Schuldig got the odd feeling that it almost physically hurt the other man to ask the question - certainly it was distressing to him. *Don't put yourself out on my account,* he replied sourly. *Takatori would just use me anyway.* *Not if I made it clear that my continued service in his employ was contingent on his not touching you,* Crawford pointed out. *He values me too much to risk losing me over a slave.* *Why the fuck do you care?* he snarled back, his fear of being given to Takatori making him even more terse than usual. *You're no kind of Dom - this whole thing disgusts you, I can tell. Why the hell should you put yourself out to rescue me?* *Because you are as powerful as I am, in your own way,* the American answered smoothly. All hint of stress was gone from his mental voice, as though it had never been. *My telepathic abilities are limited to conversing with other telepaths - I can't read the minds of non-psychics. My main strength is precognition - the ability to see the future before it happens. I agreed to go with Takatori tonight because my Gift showed me that something important would be revealed to me; I believe you are that something.* For the first time Schuldig actually tried to get deeper into someone's head - he sensed hidden meanings and agendas in the man's words. He found that he was blocked by a wall very much like the one he kept around him, but much stronger. Briefly he dipped into one of the other men's minds, just to prove he could; there was no such barrier in anyone else's mind. This was the shield that Crawford had spoken of, then. *You're not actually working for Takatori, are you?* he hazarded a guess based on the information he already had. The way Crawford spoke the man's name in his mind bore little similarity to the polite deference he gave the politician aloud. *And he doesn't know you're psychic, does he?* *No. I've been assigned to keep him alive while he carries out the purposes my superiors wish him to. You would likewise be working for me, and for them. They are called Esstet.* *Are they the people who taught you how to use your powers?* he asked, curious. *No. Esstet has been systematically destroying the consortium that found and trained me - they knew that I had been searching for a way out, and offered me a chance to work for them.* Schuldig scoffed. *You traded one set of masters for another,* he replied scathingly. *For now,* Crawford answered, unruffled. *You had best make your choice soon - Takatori is in the process of closing the bargain with Shigeru.* Schuldig started paying attention to what was going on around him again, and realized with a stab of terror that Crawford was right. *You swear he'll never touch me if I go with you?* he asked desperately, caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. *Neither he nor anyone else. You will be my submissive, but I have no wish to sleep with you. As a telepath, it would be just as distasteful to me as to you.* *Done! I'm yours, I'll do whatever you want me to... just don't let HIM have me!* Crawford interrupted his employer just as the bargain was coming to a close. "Your pardon, Mr. Takatori," he said deferentially. "You had promised me a request as a reward for my services." Takatori eyed him in surprise. "Of course, Crawford-san. What would you like?" Crawford adjusted his glasses again, and nodded at Schuldig. "I find myself curious to discover what it is like to have complete control over another man. This boy interests me, as a fellow gaijin." Takatori frowned, considering it. "I don't know," he replied slowly. "I've had my eye on the boy for some time now. Perhaps we could find you another?" *Help me,* Crawford commanded him. *HOW?* Schuldig snarled back, frantic. This wouldn't work unless Takatori agreed to the bargain! *Exert your mind on his. Convince him he wants to give you to me.* Schuldig wasn't sure he could do any such thing, but he was more than willing to try. Reaching out carefully, he let himself slip into Takatori's mind. It was full of plots and plans to grasp more power and influence to him - the man was greedy and a megalomaniac besides. He found the little circle of thoughts that was Takatori debating with himself over whether or not to give Schuldig up, and inserted a thought of his own. *After a year with Shigeru, the boy's probably just about used up, anyway,* he projected, hoping he was being at least somewhat subtle. *Let Crawford take the leftovers - I'd much rather find a fresh new boy and train him myself.* "Very well," Takatori finally concluded, to Schuldig's immense relief. "You may have him, Crawford-san - I find I'm more interested in training an unbroken slave from scratch, anyway." It gave Schuldig a little thrill to know that HE had planted that thought in Takatori's mind - the man had been thinking of no such thing before Schuldig had suggested it. Why, he could make anyone do almost anything he wanted them to, once he'd perfected and refined this ability! *That's right,* Crawford told him smugly. *I will teach you control, and then you will have the world at your feet. Between my ability to predict the future and yours to read men's minds, we will be a frightening force to contend with.* He savoured the idea, liking the feeling of power it gave him. Every moment of his life that he could remember had been controlled by someone else - his very thoughts and feelings had been dictated by the emotional state of those around him. But if HE could control THEM instead... He laughed silently as his manacles were removed and he went to stand by Crawford, his eyes shining with manic glee. He would submit to the American, because that was part of the bargain; but never again would he submit to anyone else, EVER. Never again would he cower at someone's feet, afraid for his life and his sanity. Instead he would be in control of those around him, playing with their minds the way a cat played with a mouse. And if his heart squeezed with an odd ache every time he caught sight of Crawford, he would ignore it, as he ignored everything else that might remind him of his life before he'd come to his Master's harem. That life was gone, and he figured he'd blocked the memories from his mind for a good reason. He was in control of his life now. He was powerful. He was untouchable. He was cold and uncaring. He was Schuldig. | |
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