FicWad

Stoking the Home Fires

Disclaimer: I don't own and of the boyz. Lucky for them. Yes, realize that I have now shifted over into Yoroiden Samurai Troopers technically since I'm using the original names. Forgive me, I've been watching the original and it makes it difficult to go back. So if you didn't know, Ryo=Ryo (different pronunciation-like Rio), Sage=Seiji, Kento=Shu, Cye=Shin, and Rowen=Touma. Seiji POV.

I haven't seen Ryo in a week. This is not something I approve of. While I understand better than any of the others that he works insane hours, I don't believe it's right for him to be gone for a whole week. I dropped him off on Monday, knowing that he would be working so late everyday this week that I wouldn't be able to see him until tonight, but that didn't help.

My cigarette hangs in between my fingers, smoldering as I wait impatiently. I curse his boss. It's already 2:30 am Sunday, there's no logical reason for my kitten to still be inside that club: they closed at one. I look up into the rear view mirror and smile to myself as I see Ryo put his key into the door lock. He's finally finished.

Ryo walks over to my car and opens that passenger-side door without a sound. That wouldn't be a surprise most Saturday nights (we haven't gone to bed yet, therefore it's not Sunday), but we haven't seen each other in a while. After he sits, I reach my arm out to wrap behind his head, pulling him in close for a kiss. His lips are warm and pliant beneath mine, but there's no reaction on his part. I am displeased.

I run my fingers through his hair, glad to see that he has managed to take some care of himself mostly. His hair is clean and smells of his normal shampoo. I find myself sniffing lightly, ensuring to myself that yes, he smells like the body wash he loves as well. I pull away, giving him another kiss as I go and get a better look at him. His eyes are a little sunken in from lack of sleep. In fact, he looks like he hasn't slept in a week. I know from since his face resembles my own.

"Have you eaten?" I ask, holding my breath and berating myself for breaking the silence.

He nods his head a little, "yeah Seiji, I did. It's just been a while."

This tells me that he hasn't eaten in a day or so probably. I'm not happy at all about that. While Shin might hold the title of den mother, Ryo is my lover. I run a hand down the side of his face, making sure that he is indeed there and that this isn't one of my dreams. His warmth tells me this is real.

I turn away to start the car, we still have an hour's drive ahead of us. An hour to home, where he can eat, I can relax, and we can sleep. Our bed has been cold these last several nights; in fact, the whole room has been cold. Unsurprisingly, it seems that without my fireling there, Hell does freeze over.

Oddly enough, there is silence as I drive. Usually, Ryo is at least telling me how his day went. I glance over at him on a few occasions, trying to ascertain if he has fallen asleep on me, which wouldn't bother me since he has had a rough week. He is simply staring out the window though, facing away from me. I feel myself gripping the steering wheel tighter than before. I did not pick up my missing lover just to have him absent himself on me.

"When does Jiji-san want you back at work on Monday?" I ask. I curse myself; I don't want to think of him at work, and I sincerely doubt that he wants to think of himself there either. However, I do get a response from him, one that sounds a bit happy, even if it is subdued do to weariness.

"3:00 on Wednesday, he's closing the bar on Monday and Tuesday so that I can rest up a little more."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it," and the car ride resumes its silence. I grit my teeth, trying not to snarl at the quiet. Neither one of us is much of a talker, but this is ridiculous. The buzz of the noiselessness is driving me crazy, yet I refuse to put on the radio as well.

The clock in the living room announces the half-hour as we walk inside. 3:30 am and we're home. I find myself giving him a light shove over to the kitchen, encouraging him to grab something to eat. A moment later, he reappears, a cup of ramen in his hands. He must be hungry; he usually won't touch anything instant.

I'm standing on the steps leading upstairs and I see him head into the living room. I have to admit that I am more than willing to forego the "no food in the bedrooms" rule to have him with me where he belongs. I walk into the living room, wondering what's up and I discover that he is glued to the hockey game he had set the VCR to record earlier this week. I have never hated the game so much before.

He is somewhat startled as I wrap my arms around his neck and shoulders, as if he wasn't used to me doing this by now. I reached down and picked up the remote to turn off his game. He's hardly surprised by this; I think he was expecting it. I whisper into his ear, the tip of my tongue barely flickering over the shell of it, "come to bed Ryo."

He nods in consent and tilts his head back to look up at me, "Okay, I'm too tired to watch the game right now anyway. I feel a bit out of it." He leans into my arms just a bit, his eyes lidded and exhausted. I nod; I can tell he's not too with it. However, I can see several reasons for his state of being.

Sure, he's tired. There's more to it though than that. I like to think his absence from me is also affecting him, at least a little. Before us, he never really connected with anyone; now though, we're very close. So close sometimes, it feels as if one of us inhales the other's breath. It feels as if that connection has been lost to us because of this week. It's as if we are no longer in tune with each other. I coax him up out of the couch to come and follow me upstairs, he is surprisingly obedient and does so, padding quietly behind me, following my lead. Perhaps that connection is not gone as I feared, merely strained a bit.

When we're inside our room, I wrap my arms around him and hold him close to me once more, feeling the warmth of his body. He is still, calmly eating his ramen and waiting it seems. I have a feeling he wishes to humor me, waiting until he can sleep. He really should know better by now, I am not someone who can be humored easily, I expect too much of others, and myself.

His head is tilted downwards, making it easier for him to eat, but also easier for me to feed. He jumps just a little as I drag my tongue across his honeyed flesh, wetting it before lightly nipping at his nape. I can feel him shiver as always, having missed the sensuous way in which he will signal his own eagerness to be together. It's largely unconscious of course; Ryo is often unaware of his own desires and needs.

A harder bite brings a moan of protest, but I know better. He is no weak-willed light to be turned on and off at my whim alone, and is rather uncontrollable by someone else. If he wants or feels out of the mood, out of desire, he will tell me in his own way. It took me a while to learn to read him properly, but I have yet to be burned by him and I mean to keep it that way.

I still nip at his neck, replacing missing marks that have long since faded from his body. He bruises well, I learned a while ago, and I have been leaving hickeys on him ever since. I feel him pull away slightly and hear a moan escape past his lips. Many would interpret this as an attempt to leave my arms, but he's enjoying this too much to want it to stop right now. By pulling away, he's furthering the mark, deepening it to a darker shade of possession.

The slurp from his ramen breaks the mood temporarily, but in the long run, I will not be deterred. I sigh in a bit of agitation, knowing that it's my own damn fault that he's eating now, since I had insisted. However, this wouldn't have happened if he had actually taken care of himself. I smile, a glint of evil coming from my face, crooking the halo a bit to one side. Have you ever noticed that there are times where it's necessary to re-housebreak a cat if you haven't been there to enforce the rules?

"I'm glad you're getting your strength back Kitten," I whisper in his ear, recalling his attention to us. "You're going to need it to keep up with your chastisement."

The chopsticks in his hand click together, dropping the noodles that had held them separate. He turns in my arms, looking up at him. "I didn't do anything," he insists, pouting a little. He has missed me.

"You didn't take care of yourself kitten," I remind him, holding him close to me. He likes these games, and while I don't quite understand why, I'll give him what he wants, what he desires. "You haven't eaten in the last day or so, I can tell. And I know you haven't been sleeping like you should. When I tell you to do something, you do it. You know better, don't you?" I raise his head a bit from where he has cast his eyes down. "Don't you?"

"But Seiji-"a look from me stops the whine quickly. He knows it's something I hate but uses anyway. Doe-ish eyes bat at me in a flirting manner for a moment and I bite my lip, knowing that he's trying to get out of this through sex appeal. But things are always better when done in the proper order I feel.

A kiss binds our mouths for a moment. When I've had my first taste of him again, I pull away and look down at him. He thinks he has won this round until he feels my hands going down his body, stopping at his waist. My slender fingers make quick work of his belt, undoing the buckle and pulling it from the loops in his jeans. He shivers a bit at the sound of leather and denim rubbing together, knowing full well that in a moment he will be receiving a kiss from a lash. There are times I wonder about this unusual dance: do I lead and he follows, or do I respond to his steps?

He starts to fight with me a moment later, if he didn't struggle, I would wonder. He's already half-way undressed as is, and he knows he is going to be naked in a minute, so why is he struggling so? Ah, that's it: I feel cool air brushing against my skin; he wanted me at least partially exposed to his eyes. He has this hatred of my button down shirts that I will never understand, but he does like the fact that if he fights just a little, struggling will make the buttons pop, letting him look at him.

His eyes linger on me a moment too long and he is pinned beneath me on the bed. I hear him swear in cat-tongue; a strange combination of angry snarls and aroused growls. It doesn't take much to turn him over on his stomach; I do have height and gravity on my side after all. I quickly gather his small wrists into my hand, the other searching out for the silky cord I bought on Monday after dropping him off.

Once his wrists are bound behind him, it doesn't take much to wrap it around his arms and then tie it into a firm knot in the middle of his back. This way, when he tugs downwards, he won't harm his wrists at all. As I sit on his back, I can loop the other length of rope through the bars on the headboard and tie it to the knot that rests in the middle of his back.

He's calm below me, not quite sure what to make of this new element of our life. As I get off of him, I take the last bit of his clothes, his underwear. As quickly as I can, I bind his legs as well, tying them ankle to thigh so that he is bent up on his knees and can't kick out. This also conveniently raises his hips up, bringing his ass into the proper form for punishment.

I smack him once, drawing a gasp. I see him struggle with his bonds as I knew he would. After a moment, he stops: relinquishing his control to me. Ever so slightly, he dips his chest downwards, raising his rear up more as an offering to pacify me. I smile and pick up one of the other toys I have at my disposal: a cat-o-nine-tails, formed with medium soft leather strips with velvet on one side. Used either hard or lightly, it'll bring a sensation as he has yet to feel.

The cat fall and he cries out in pain, yet at the same time, he again lifts his hips in a way that is almost imperceptible. I let it fall as many times as I feel is right and by the end, while there are some tears, there are also little gasps of pleasure as a result of his now highly striped rear end. When I drag cool fingers along a red weal, I hear him wince and whimper, yet still arching into the touch ever so slightly.

The next few cuts with the cat are no longer meant to be painful, even though they are a tiny bit. The velvet side of the cat lashes flick out and nip my kitten's ass, turning it a uniform shade of rose. The welts stand out very nicely against the new coloring, a darker red amongst the now reddened caramel. My hands stroking down his backside and cupping his lower cheeks draw sweet moans from his carmine lips.

Satisfied that his punishment is complete, that he has learned as well as reconnected with this part of our world, I brush the back of his neck with my lips, letting him know he is "forgiven" for his "transgression". "You know," I whisper in his ear, "you were very quiet coming home. Tell me why."

As the last of his teas were wiped away by now gentle hands, my kitten shrugs as best he can with his arms tied behind his back. "I don't know, it's been a long week. I couldn't think of anything to say."

"Bullshit," I bite out as I rub his back. I can't let him know how much his silence bothered me; it would break the spell between us, for him to know the power he has over me. I get up, keeping the game on its toes and seek out something else I had retrieved for this evening. "I'll give you an hour to think about how to learn how to talk, by taking your voice away from you."

My kitten's eyes widen only a moment before settling down to regard me with wariness. We've played at gagging him before, it isn't a favorite game of ours, but I feel that this is the best way to make my point. He doesn't fight me on this, he trusts me to know what to do. I pull the gag in between his lips and tied it behind his head. It helps to prevent the growl of surprised as I blindfold him a moment later. He tosses his head, amusing me greatly, but I allow it.

After five minutes or so, when he's finally calmed down from the surprised of the blindfold as well as the gag, I continue with the point I'm trying to make. I want to hear his voice, the noise he can make, and it's very easy for him to remember how once his' ability to speak is taken away. I grab the studded vibrator and lube and caress his rear with it. He shivers a bit, startled and unsure as to what is going to happen to him next.

His legs are spread wide apart already, folded back on themselves in order to expose the tender bud I haven't touched in a week. I pour some of the lube between my fingers, the smell of peppermint assailing my nose as the oil drops on my fingers. It'll sting a bit, but it would hurt if he were scrapped inside.

When my fingers touch his entrance, he jumps and whimpers. Because of the gag, the sounds are softer, and he can't voice his fears as well as normal: as I had intended. My fingers press a bit more against him and he sighs in pleasure as they enter into him. I kiss his hot rear gently as I stroke him inside; pleased to see he is enjoying the little sting the oil and sudden stretching give him.

His hips arch as I stroke him, and he bucks up in surprise when my fingers brush against the spot that makes him yell in pleasure when I fuck him. I press a moment and let him just feel my fingers in him. While he's adjusting, I take the time to lubricate the vibrator that will be in him in a matter of moments. He doesn't know that at all of course, which makes it all the better to have him shivering and twitching around my fingers. As far as he knows, I could just be preparing him for myself. It's so much fun to play with him sometimes.

I withdraw my fingers out to the tips, still plugging him lightly. Spreading them apart as much as possible, I pick up the studded vibrator and start to push it inside him. He tenses immediately and whimpers, trying to pull away from the vibrator. Ignoring him, I push it up him as much as I can, watching him buck and listening to him whimper behind the gag. It has always intrigued me that while Shin and Touma enjoy vibrators of any size, my sweet kitten has never really enjoyed them: he'd rather have me plugging him instead.

The studded vibrator makes him shudder and whimper, twisting in his bonds in an attempt to rid his body of the little prods and touches inside him that drive him crazy. I think his dislike is due to his sensitive body, and that he'd rather that someone were inside of him to enjoy it rather than some soulless toy. And if not, it might be because the sensations overwhelm him a lot. For me, it gives me great pleasure to watch him writhe as his pleasures overtake his mind.

Of course, his twitching, shivering, and whimpering only get worse when the vibrator is actually turned on. At the first touch of the buzzing fiend, he arches his back and whimpers as loudly as he can, knowing it's a sound that will please me. His hips arch, needing more pressure, more involvement of my touch than just the knowledge that I am sitting behind him and grinning.

I shake my head in wonder, finding myself touching his hot rear as I kneel next to him, my breath on the shell of his ear. "I thought I told you to be quiet." I hiss out, seeing his sex trapped between his body and the bed grows only firmer. "Do you need to be reminded of your responsibility?" I grin to myself as I see his body tighten around the mad toy inside him and he rapidly shakes his head. With a love bite on his ear stoking his fires, I leave him as I pull back away to watch him.

I leave him like that some time later to go to get a drink of water for myself and him. As I glance at my watch, I know that some twenty minutes have passed since the vibrator entered him and that he has received no relief. His cock should be teak hard right about now. I know that he will be in greater need than before for my touch.

It takes no more than a moment for me to return to the room and my kitten, shivering badly in need from the torment he is suffering from. My heart catches in my throat as it dawns on me as I watch him that he is over stimulated and that by all rights he should have cum by now. My kitten has been waiting for me.

The moment the vibrator is turned off, his shuddering starts to slow, only to be replaced by near violent sudden twitches as he rests in my hands, forcing himself to hold back. I pull the toy out slowly and his whimpers come to my ears quickly as he's teased. Once the vibrator is removed, and the whimpers calm down, so does his severe shuddering.

I use a finger to keep him from fully closing, holding him open so that I may embed myself in his sweet heat. There is still plenty of lubrication in him, but he is tender from the vibrator so I make sure to add some more to my own sex. A moan grips my throat in pleasure as I slowly enter him, the tight heat of his body gripping me like a vise. The peppermint oil only adds to the hot and sweet sensation, making the burn sharper, heightening the pleasure.

We have to wait for a few agonizing moments, even I'm not sadistic enough to just start plowing into him. Besides, I find it very nice to just hold a moment and let the heated waves of pleasure roll over me. When I do start my thrusts, they are slow and deep, bringing moans of torturous pleasure to his throat. My kitten has been too teased to be able to handle this for much longer though.

A whimpering beg of need catches my ear and I concede this time, increasing my pace already. I fear we are both too close to really hold ourselves out for much longer. The pleasure that I feel is different from his, and I can only hope that he can sustain himself from exploding, as I wish to enjoy my ride for as long as I can.

Unsurprisingly, the needy, soulful, pleading, whimpers return to my ears. My kitten is close, yet he withholds himself, not wanting to incur my wrath if he cums too early. I let a hand stroke down his body and he half screams into his gag as my hand touches his overexcited sex.

His body tightens a great deal around me, the burning heat keeping my own sex more than slightly warm. The lubricating oil eases some of the pressure, but at the same time, the chill of the peppermint heats more than his body.

I stroke his body a few moments more, hearing him whimper and plead as well as he can. His panting and moaning reaches my ears as he bucks beggingly into my hand, needing me to bring him over the edge badly. He moans loudly as I grip his cock hard, preventing him from cumming anytime soon. The whimpering increases a moment later as I stroke into him harder, going as deep as I can and near bruising the spot that drives him crazy.

Deep gasps reach my ears as he edges closer and closer to his fall into the abyss of pure pleasure. I am kind in my power, relinquishing it back to him, releasing him. He screams into his gag, cumming hard into my hand. The tight heat of his body clamps down quite sharply, seizing my cock and near searing it. I bite down on his shoulder to keep from scream in shock as I fill him.

Moments pass to bring be back to my senses return eventually. I shake only a little as I withdraw from his body slowly. My cock is spent, though it is a trifle bit hot. Then again, I'd challenge any of the others to take my kitten (not that I'd let them) and not come back a little bit scorched. I breathe easily as I look at my exhausted kitten, stroking his back to return him to me.

He stirs ever slowly, but that is not surprising and he raises his head, making pleading noises from behind his gag. I undo this binds easily, untying him quickly. Rubbing the warmth back into his legs and arms returns the tension rather than releasing him from it, as he shivers in overwhelming exhaustion.

I remove the gag and blindfold quickly, raising his face to look at me. I can see where I bit his shoulder and I'm glad to see it is nothing more than bruised. His soft pants fill the air as he regains his breath, looking up at me slowly.

Lowering my head, I kiss him softly, relishing in the sweet calm that has settled into us. He nuzzles against me, quickly drifting off and I know that we are okay once more. He has accepted me all over again, reinstating my power over him, loving the break it gives him.


Oddly enough, I awake before noon. I glance over at my sweet kitten, still ensnared in his slumber and smile to myself. If I were to reach out and pet him at this instant, he'd nuzzle into my hand, seeking warmth and care. The previous night's evens flow over me and I get up, realizing that something else is quite warm.

Shu grants me with a smile as I come down the stairs, knowing that I will be relatively calm for a while. He has seen me in rare temper without my kitten nearby to douse my own flames.

Touma gives me a bleary-eyed glare from his cereal. He is a poor sleeper, and even with precautions, probably heard the commotion we made the night before. I nod my head, acknowledging the wrong, but no apologizing for it.

Shin is the last to see me, favoring me with a very nasty look. Oddly enough, for even though he tops from the bottom, he does not understand my relationship with Ryo very well. We have fought several times in the past over the likelihood that I could truly hurt my little fireling in some way.

Calmly ignoring him, I walk to the freezer atop the fridge and pull out an ice pack. When I retire to the living room and flip on the morning news as I sit. Placing the ice pack where it is needed most, I hiss at the chill as it runs through my crotch and up my spine. Oh well, 'tis a small price to pay for regaining that tight, hot body the night before. Ryo knows that he belongs to me, and the burn on my own body reminds me of my own servitude.