Author's Note: This story contains very explicit male/male sex and some bondage. If you aren't comfortable with such things, don't read it. And this is the last time I take even a pseudodare from all you hentai types over in TOC-Chat. ~_^;;;;;;;;;

As usual, Sailor Moon and associated characters do not belong to me, yadda yadda yadda.

Direct any feedback to eliddell@dark-kingdom.de.

Phantom lips brushing across mine, a phantom body underneath me, pressed against me, skin to skin . . . it was a kind of satisfaction that I found only in dreams. No visible face. I couldn't even tell at first whether my phantom partner was male or female. All I could see was a pair of green eyes. Emerald green. Poison green. Familiar.

When will I stop dreaming about him? Him that I would never have. The moment I completed his training, he would be the fourth King of the Dark Kingdom, and any such relationship between two of Metallia's highest officers was absolutely forbidden. I could never let myself touch him. Never. Except in my dreams.

I rolled over, lifting him up on top of me, feeling the weight on my chest as he settled himself and leaned forward for another kiss, and I . . .

. . . woke up. Or did I? I was still lying on my back in total, perfect darkness. And there was still a weight on my chest, and a warm mouth pressed against mine, and emerald green eyes mere inches from my own.

A quick mental twitch summoned light. Normally, a twitch of my hand would have accompanied it, but I couldn't lower my arms. When I tried, I could feel a pressure against my wrists, as though someone had tied them up above my head. And . . . I tried to kick, but couldn't. Yes, my legs, too.

"Stop struggling, please, Kunzaito-sama. You'll only rub yourself raw against the ropes."

Of course I would. After all, I was the one who'd taught him how to tie a truly secure knot.

"Zoisaito . . ." I stared up at that vision, and shook my head. He was completely, gloriously nude, his body slender and pale and perfect. He'd let his hair loose from its normal ponytail, and it spilled down over his shoulders, framing a delicate, chiseled face that was just ever-so-slightly flushed . . . with embarrassment? With desire? Certainly the latter had to be a factor. He was certainly aroused enough. Not the largest I've ever seen, but more than adequate, oh, yes . . . Stop that. I licked my lips. " . . . why?"

"Because I didn't think much for my chances of wrestling you into submission while you were still awake." He scooted himself backwards until his buttocks were pressing against my penis. I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood as I felt my traitor body react to that pressure.

Stop that. He isn't yours. He can't ever be yours. Not even if he wants to be.

"That isn't an answer." It was an effort, but I managed to keep my voice level and even, my face expressionless. I can't let him know what he's doing to me . . .

"Because of all my teachers, you're the only one that I've ever wanted, and the only one who's never wanted me. Who's never just taken me. The Ice King. Lord Kunzite. Beautiful and utterly cold." He bent down to kiss the edge of my jaw, then worked his way lower, trailing his lips down my throat and across the hollow at my collarbone to reach my shoulder.

"You're my student. More than that, you're supposed to become my peer." I couldn't keep still any longer. I had to move, even if it was only a little shift of my torso, wriggling my hips down and away from him so that he was no longer touching that most sensitive part of my anatomy. "Raping you would have been a fool's game. I'm surprised that none of the others ever understood that."

He very deliberately sucked a fold of my flesh into his mouth and bit down. I closed my eyes. "Oh? What was it that you told me about sexual arousal? 'It's a physical need just like any other. If you can, you sate it as quickly and thoroughly as possible. If you can't, you ignore it.' Well, they needed me, or thought they did. And now I need you. And . . . mmmm . . ." I could feel his fingers groping at my erection. "It does seem that you need me, too, doesn't it, Kunzaito-sama? So why don't you be a good boy and pretend to enjoy it?"

I turned my head to one side, but couldn't keep myself from opening my eyes again. Enjoy it? Oh, Zoisaito, you have no idea . . .

He was moving further down my body now, his knees between my thighs, his erection pressing against mine as he bent forward to lick at my nipples. My breathing quickened. I couldn't help it. Despite my reputation, I wasn't made of ice, or of stone. I had a body, just like any other man, and that body had its needs. Normally, I took care of those with some youma, or just with my hand, but I hadn't done either in quite some time, and Zoisite was good. Why shouldn't I enjoy myself?

Because Metallia will flay me alive if she ever finds out. No. Best go on pretending that this is rape. Then, just maybe, she'll never find out . . . find out that I . . . that I . . .

Zoisite took the tip of my penis into his mouth, and I involuntarily loosed a little moaning cry. Hot . . . wet . . . That feels so good . . . I could feel the internal pressure building, and knew that this particular phase of my student's torture--yes, torture, that's a good word, just have to make myself believe it now--couldn't possibly last much longer.

"Oh no you don't." He lifted himself away, turning around so that I could see his back and buttocks as he bent forward and picked up something that had been lying between my bound ankles. A jar. Oil, I realized. Is he going to . . . ?

I watched as he dipped his fingers and snaked them around behind himself, up between his buttocks, and kept on watching as he slipped first one, and then another, inside himself. Then I forced myself to close my eyes, but the image of what his fingers were doing was imprinted on the insides of my eyelids, so I opened him again, knowing that fantasizing about those pale, wonderfully round cheeks was just going to make matters worse. Reality was better. Marginally better.

Then he turned back around, dipping his fingers a second time and rubbing them along my shaft. I could feel myself tensing in anticipation as he coated me in warm, slick oil.

"Damn you," I breathed as he positioned himself on top of me. Damn you for one of Metallia's cousins, dearest student. Do you have any idea what it's going to be like for me to work at your side for the rest of my life, knowing what I'm missing, and never able to touch you?

Then he was pushing himself down on top of me, and as I slid into that hot, slick, tight channel, I lost all ability to think, or to do anything much except moan and mindlessly push upward, impaling him more deeply. He had his head flung back, and the look on his face was transcendent.

"Kunzaito-sama . . ."

"Damn you," I whispered again as he moaned my name and began to move. "Damn you, damn you, damn you . . ." It became a chant spoken in time with his movements. "Damn you, damn you . . ." Sticky wetness splattered all over my stomach, and his insides tightened around me as he convulsed with pleasure. "Damn you!" I snarled it as I pumped my seed into him, then lay there, panting and trying to weave the tattered rags of my thoughts back together.

"Kunzaito-sama, I'm sorry," he whispered as he leaned forward to kiss me again, "but I had to. I had to find out how it would feel. I'll accept whatever punishment you feel is appropriate."

I smiled. His eyes widened. I don't think he had ever seen me smile before.

"Any punishment?" I asked. "Are you sure? You don't know what torture is, Zoisaito. Not yet. You see, there's one lesson that I haven't yet taught you: that pleasure can, in and of itself, become remarkably exquisite pain . . ." And I rolled over, pinning him underneath me, feeling him freeze as I did so.

It had been difficult to talk while focusing my magic on the ties that held me to the bed, but it had been worth it for the shock value.

Once the surprise wore off, he tried to struggle, but I was bigger and heavier than he was, and there was no way that he could have thrown me off. I made flagrant use of my magic, binding his arms and legs in place, not with anything as crude as rope, but with spells that anchored his flesh painlessly but unbreakably to thin air. Then, finally, I had him exactly where I wanted him: spread-eagled on his back, with his pelvis tilted slightly upward for easier access, his feet floating a foot or so above the surface of the bed.

Now it was my turn to straddle him, to kiss him, to slide my tongue between his unresisting lips. The only difference was that he returned my kiss as I had not done with his, eyes wide, obviously unable to believe his luck.

I stroked his penis. He was already recovering, hardening again, and my gentle touches speeded his progress quite nicely. I kept on doing that for several minutes, until I judged that he was ready. Then I circled the base of it with my thumb and forefinger, squeezing. Just so tight and no tighter . . . yes . . .

I lifted my hand away, my smile widening as Zoisite realized that I wasn't touching him anymore, and yet he could still feel the constriction my fingers had imposed.

I leaned forward and kissed his face, then whispered in his ear.

"You see," I murmured, "that's just tight enough to keep you from coming until I dissipate the spell. Can you imagine what it's going to feel like in an hour? Or two? Or three? How long will it take for the frustration to change to pain, Zoisaito?" I kissed him again. He writhed underneath me, struggling--too late, far too late . . . "I'm going to want you for the rest of my life," I whispered, "and it'll mean my life if I ever have you again . . . and so I'm going to torture you just as badly as you have me. Do you understand yet?"

"K-Kunzaito-sama--"

I brushed my fingertips across his throat, casting a paralysis spell. "No more talk."

I took my time. It was fifteen minutes before I even got down past his shoulders, and all the while, he was wriggling and panting, robbed of his voice by my magic. I ran my fingers through that gorgeous, wavy, honey-coloured hair as I'd been longing to do all night, licked the elegant line of his jaw, used my teeth and my nails as much as I thought I could without driving him over the line from pleasure to pain. I rubbed some of his oil on his nipples, and then licked it off. I traced patterns on the insides of his thighs with my fingertips. Then, finally, half an hour later, I got down to business and began lapping at his erection. By that time, he'd exhausted himself, and was only trembling, not really struggling.

I took him all the way into my mouth and proceeded to nibble and lick gently up and down his length. I could feel his member throbbing under my tongue, even though it was still helplessly constricted. Ten minutes of that, give or take. Then I sat back on my heels and reached for the oil again.

He shuddered as my fingers slid inside him. I rubbed his prostate, firmly but gently, then glanced up at his face.

There were tears rolling down his chin, but there was still a strange light in his eyes. On impulse, I brushed my free hand back across his throat, releasing his voice.

"--Thank you," he husked. "I'll remember this for the rest of my life. Thank you, Kunzaito-sama."

"I'm not done yet," I said.

The oil was still warm as I coated myself for the second time. I sighed with satisfaction as I slid inside him. He was still hot and tight and felt very, very good.

Then, unexpectedly, the muscles of his abdomen rippled and he tightened even more.

"How's that?" he asked.

I reached up to grasp his throat, and he froze, knowing that his life was in my hands, that I could snap his neck like a twig.

"You should be fighting me," I said.

"Why?" He sounded genuinely puzzled. "I love you, Kunzaito-sama. I can tell that this is giving you pleasure, and I want you to be happy. I don't care how many hours you keep me pinned here. Do whatever you want."

I love you.

The sound that burst from my throat was all wrong for a whimper, but not loud enough for a scream.

I cursed him in all the languages I knew, releasing all my spells at once. The sudden tightness around my member as he came brought me off again too, and I hated myself for it.

I love you.

Zoisaito, how could you do this to me?

"Get out of here!" I snarled, throwing him off the bed.

"Kunz--"

"Get out!"

Not until the swirl of sakura blossoms that accompanied his teleport had faded away did I bury my face in my pillow. Or at least, that's what I tried to do, but the bedclothes all smelled of him, and of sex. I ended up ripping them off and throwing myself down on the bare mattress.

He's killed me. I'm dead. Because I knew that I would never be able to resist him, or him, me. He had created a chink in my armour of ice, a breach that emotion would inevitably enter through. And emotion makes people make mistakes. I would make mistakes. And in the Dark Kingdom, mistakes are inevitably fatal. We would meet, and make love, and eventually, one of us would slip up and Metallia would find out . . .

I'm dead.

Zoisaito . . .

I tore the mattress and the blankets to shreds, and then attacked the bed itself with my bare hands.

It didn't make me feel any better.