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Mar. 9th, 2012 05:01 pm[When Alois' hand hits his cheek again, it takes all of Claude's willpower to restrain himself from moaning out loud.
They have been contracted for nearly one year, but he still hasn't gotten used to how intense the passion of this child can be. He still praises himself for having been able to discern that sparkle of burning fierceness inside of this soul; even though it was originally hidden by that revolting, apathetic, vulgar Jim Macken facade.
Alois is still in his nightgown, having spent nearly the whole day in bed, recovering from a very rough night with Lord Trancy (Claude watched their intercourse from the ceiling, as usual. He might even be partly responsible for Lord Trancy's sudden burst of intense lust. When it comes to manipulating the human mind, he tends to get carried away sometimes.) Claude had just started to dress him when his Master suddenly had a rage fit. One stocking is halfway rolled up his shapely right leg. To Claude, nothing is more arousing than watching his Master's left bare foot stomping on the floor, as Alois slaps him over and over again. It's pure bliss. He wonders if he could trigger his Master to do much worse. Whether he'd be strong enough to restrain himself from orgasming all over if Alois went as far as whipping him or gouging his eyes out.
But right now they don't have the time for these pleasant games.
Today is a very busy day for the both of them. They need to work on Alois' dependency issues (or current lack thereof). He made sure the other butlers and Lord Trancy would leave Herr Doktor Faust and Die Kleine Prinzessin Eloise to their private devices all day long, and Alois' hysteria attack is the perfect start for their impending working session.
Claude's only regret is that for obvious reasons he's unable to wear an actual doctor white coat, and to carry a notebook. Pity. He'd take so much pleasure in writing down all of Alois' symptoms and progresses in neat little colums. Current state of the patient: hysterical. Main cause: emerging claustrophobia. Treatment: mental manipulation.
He knew this moment would have come. Alois, for as softened as he was by the sexual abuse and Claude's consistent princely courting, still withholds some irritating delusions of independence and freedom. He wanted to go out, he claims daily with that preposterous, aggressive, masculine tone that still carries the odious signature of Jim Macken. He wants to visit London. He wants to meet new people.
In Claude's opinion, it sounds more like he wants to wander for the streets of a bigger city like a common rat, letting the disgusting influence of lesser souls tarnish his essence, losing whatever sort of gentleness and delicacy Claude managed to instill in him in the past nine months, with the joint efforts of Prince Charming uniforms, skin-softening lotions, seduction practice, kimono, fairy tales and etiquette lessons.
Still, that passion. The potential is all hidden in that pulsing red soul. All Claude has to do is strain out every imperfection Jim Macken's personality still taints Alois Trancy's with. He wants to craft this child into a perfect doll, fulfilled by one single person (demon), rather than too many. The process is rather straigthforward. The passion, the raw material, is all there. Claude simply needs to channel it to the right places, and so far he's been successful. Alois' hatred towards Sebastian, and his virulent seductive powers towards all the nobility and the clergy of England (a very expensive whore). Yet the most tender part of his soul is still going adrift. Alois still thinks of finding out there, in the big, smelly, dirty, contagious world, what he already has right next to him. Do you think we might meet a fairy in London, Claude? Like those in fairy tales? I want to visit a tea room so much.
He needs this ten year old's (nearly eleven) point of view to shift until he realizes that no tea room would ever have pastries as delicious as the ones Claude makes for him everyday, simply because only Claude can balance the ingredients by pulling them out of Alois' subconscious and mixing them according to the delicate needs a tongue marked by his own symbol. No fairy would ever bring roses to Alois and bow before him like the most gallant of princes. The fulfillment of all of Alois Trancy's dreams can be found in one single person: Claude Faustus.
Claude wants Alois to need him as much as he himself needs Alois.
That is why he wills himself to speak when Alois stops hitting him to catch his breath. He would like to savor this moment in silence, enjoying the bliss of that faint stinging feeling on his cheek and salivating over the way Alois' tiny body shakes with anger, but he cannot afford to be indulgent.]
Master, We should play a game.
They have been contracted for nearly one year, but he still hasn't gotten used to how intense the passion of this child can be. He still praises himself for having been able to discern that sparkle of burning fierceness inside of this soul; even though it was originally hidden by that revolting, apathetic, vulgar Jim Macken facade.
Alois is still in his nightgown, having spent nearly the whole day in bed, recovering from a very rough night with Lord Trancy (Claude watched their intercourse from the ceiling, as usual. He might even be partly responsible for Lord Trancy's sudden burst of intense lust. When it comes to manipulating the human mind, he tends to get carried away sometimes.) Claude had just started to dress him when his Master suddenly had a rage fit. One stocking is halfway rolled up his shapely right leg. To Claude, nothing is more arousing than watching his Master's left bare foot stomping on the floor, as Alois slaps him over and over again. It's pure bliss. He wonders if he could trigger his Master to do much worse. Whether he'd be strong enough to restrain himself from orgasming all over if Alois went as far as whipping him or gouging his eyes out.
But right now they don't have the time for these pleasant games.
Today is a very busy day for the both of them. They need to work on Alois' dependency issues (or current lack thereof). He made sure the other butlers and Lord Trancy would leave Herr Doktor Faust and Die Kleine Prinzessin Eloise to their private devices all day long, and Alois' hysteria attack is the perfect start for their impending working session.
Claude's only regret is that for obvious reasons he's unable to wear an actual doctor white coat, and to carry a notebook. Pity. He'd take so much pleasure in writing down all of Alois' symptoms and progresses in neat little colums. Current state of the patient: hysterical. Main cause: emerging claustrophobia. Treatment: mental manipulation.
He knew this moment would have come. Alois, for as softened as he was by the sexual abuse and Claude's consistent princely courting, still withholds some irritating delusions of independence and freedom. He wanted to go out, he claims daily with that preposterous, aggressive, masculine tone that still carries the odious signature of Jim Macken. He wants to visit London. He wants to meet new people.
In Claude's opinion, it sounds more like he wants to wander for the streets of a bigger city like a common rat, letting the disgusting influence of lesser souls tarnish his essence, losing whatever sort of gentleness and delicacy Claude managed to instill in him in the past nine months, with the joint efforts of Prince Charming uniforms, skin-softening lotions, seduction practice, kimono, fairy tales and etiquette lessons.
Still, that passion. The potential is all hidden in that pulsing red soul. All Claude has to do is strain out every imperfection Jim Macken's personality still taints Alois Trancy's with. He wants to craft this child into a perfect doll, fulfilled by one single person (demon), rather than too many. The process is rather straigthforward. The passion, the raw material, is all there. Claude simply needs to channel it to the right places, and so far he's been successful. Alois' hatred towards Sebastian, and his virulent seductive powers towards all the nobility and the clergy of England (a very expensive whore). Yet the most tender part of his soul is still going adrift. Alois still thinks of finding out there, in the big, smelly, dirty, contagious world, what he already has right next to him. Do you think we might meet a fairy in London, Claude? Like those in fairy tales? I want to visit a tea room so much.
He needs this ten year old's (nearly eleven) point of view to shift until he realizes that no tea room would ever have pastries as delicious as the ones Claude makes for him everyday, simply because only Claude can balance the ingredients by pulling them out of Alois' subconscious and mixing them according to the delicate needs a tongue marked by his own symbol. No fairy would ever bring roses to Alois and bow before him like the most gallant of princes. The fulfillment of all of Alois Trancy's dreams can be found in one single person: Claude Faustus.
Claude wants Alois to need him as much as he himself needs Alois.
That is why he wills himself to speak when Alois stops hitting him to catch his breath. He would like to savor this moment in silence, enjoying the bliss of that faint stinging feeling on his cheek and salivating over the way Alois' tiny body shakes with anger, but he cannot afford to be indulgent.]
Master, We should play a game.
