henchweasel | duplicity: inbox

Oh, I could hardly hold that against you. A king should do as he wishes with his property. I only regret that I forgot myself and stepped out of line. And in front of so many people, too...

Do you? Well, a nice bath and fine jewelry does sound like a nice start... As a headache remedy, of course.

[ Is Fabian holding out for one more offer? Yes. Absolutely. He's a brat, after all.

(Come on, Caliban, he wouldn't be any fun if he wasn't!) ]

Edited (dissatisfied with the previous version of this tag shhhh) 2025-12-08 21:59 (UTC)

And yet, I have the distinct feeling it lingers in the mind. You were such a pretty version of yourself as well, Ah- true. You were the talk of the Grey Room during the festival. I had quite a few calls about you. All of which were denied, of course. But you did leave an impression, for what it's worth. Ah. I suppose you'll be wanting another shopping day? Ask no questions and buy whatever you wish without limits? To fix such a headahce?

[ An impression. Ugh. He still needs to face those people, with their smirking faces and the knowing looks in their eyes while he has to play at being gracious in their presence. Fabian can hardly stomach the thought. And yet, Caliban's words do have him feeling... some twisted validation. ]

Only in the way that a well taught lesson lingers. You gave me a lot to think about.

Are they still talking about me?

[ As much as he loathes the cruelty and public humiliation he endured, and he hates the thought of facing the patrons of the Gray Room, he'd still rather be talked about than forgotten. Sex and desire are powerful here, after all. ]

A generous offer, but my head simply hurts too much to make so many decisions. You may have to pick things out for me. Clothes and accessories befitting a pretty jewel.

A king's whore ought to look the part, after all.

[ Look, this is one part passive aggression and one part trying to own it so he can hold his head high around the Gray Room's members in spiteful defiance. ]

I suppose I did leave something of an impression when I was... in that mood. There are a few dominants who approached me about hiring you for a night, and I told them I don't share you with just anyone. That you are a rarity that I'm selfish with. Their talk continues but that show didn't just have them talking about you- certainly left a few talking bout me as well.
[ Which is as close as he was going to get to truly saying sorry unless the other pushes him on it. He wasn't mortal after all; his own morals were muddy at best. ]

I'm impressed you trust me enough to pick out such gifts and outfits for you- given what I'd desire to dress you in, my prettiest diamond. I suppose he should. A king's whore fucked and kept on silk sheets, none better than you. I'll find some...pretty things sto remedy ssuch a headache, princess.

[ For as wounded as he is it helps to be told that Caliban doesn't see him as something to pass around, at least. Makes him feel less disposable. ]

What are they saying about you?

[ And oh, Fabian knows he's taking a risk here, letting Caliban pick things out for him to wear. But he figures there's more opportunity to be had in leaning into this and owning it to some degree. After all, he still wants to be a rare treasure for others to covet.

And he wants to be Caliban's favorite. ]

Well, you do have exquisite taste. And perhaps I want to see myself the way you see me.

My king has such a way with words... Very well, I'll come home tonight. To recuperate, of course.

Do you wish to know? Mostly, that I was quite dominant, and the brutality of it has solidified into respect and fear in decent measure. Your tears certainly seemed to have brought more business to the Grey Room. Well, I'm glad you think so. Oh? Hm, I think I can make you the way I desire to see you. If you're so curious. Oh? Good. You belong here, Princess. And of course- I won't...require anything tonight.

[ It's clear even to him that pushing the other into some sort of sexual game too soon would be a terrible idea. He was going to find a few pretty clothes and jewels to order to the house for the other to have when he finally arrived. They were very, very slutty clothes, but the thought was there. There was a golden silk robe, a few more slutry underwear- from panties to tight red boxers to thongs. Long white shirts that buttoned in a way that exposed his chest, tight black pants, and even a shorter short skirt kilt. There were jewels of course- rubies on gold necklaces and even a few rings engraved with what seemed to be some sort of demonic symbol. The house of hell. Just another small sign that Caliban was claiming the other.

Boxes and boxes of goodies were stacked up on Fabian's bed for him to find.]

[ Hmm... He certainly has mixed feelings about that. That so many people got off on his suffering is... enraging. But ultimately, he decides to compartmentalize it and spin it as a good thing. ]

Good. It would be such a wasted opportunity if the whole incident didn't lift your standing in the eyes of the locals. People should fear and respect you.

[ He'll leave the conversation at that for now, though admittedly, Fabian does feel uplifted by the words you belong here. It certainly beats the rejection he's grown so accustomed to back in his world.

Once he arrives, he takes some time to sort through the gifts, pleased with what Caliban's generously provided him. Rubies and gold look quite nice when paired with the black collar around his neck. After a nice, relaxing soak in the tub, Fabian decides he may as well dress head to toe in the demon's offerings. The rings, a bracelet, two of the necklaces, the silk robe, along with... some lacy panties and matching stockings he'd never choose for himself.

It's his first time ever dabbling with the feminine, partially because Fabian's never had much interest in femininity, not in partners and not in himself. And the other reason is, well, he just figures it would look absurd on him. He's not some delicate slip of a thing, after all.

(Is that thinking mired in stereotypes and toxic masculinity? Perhaps. But he's not going to examine that.)

At least it looks good on him. The stockings particularly. One of the perks of having very long, well toned legs. In fact, he's just going to lay back on the bed and admire them for a bit.

Nice. His body really is a work of art. As long as he looks good, it doesn't much matter that he feels so wretched and ugly inside.

After a bit of time spent in his room, he steels himself to go and see Caliban for the first time since Tumenalia, wrapping the robe tight around himself before leaving his room.

(Ugh, he hopes Remmick isn't lurking about the house right now.)

His stomach's all twisted up with nerves when he enters his Dominant's quarters, which is really very silly and beneath him. But then, that's what happens when one confirms all of his worst fears and insecurities so cruelly, and in front of an audience. The sooner he can shake these feelings, the better. ]

My lord Caliban.

[ At least he can sound warm and sultry, while trying to tamp down his nerves. ]

Edited 2025-12-10 18:14 (UTC)

[ Caliban himself simply resting in a simple black pair of underwear that tight against his skin and bulge, and a black robe that was thown open as he sat at his desk near his bed, various spell books laid out open in front of him. His head turns as he heard that door open and his submissive stands before him dressed...well, for the demon, utterly divinely.

His face as absent of that pure cruelty that had show on his face druing the festival, when his worst aspects had bubbled up to the surface. Instead warmth and amusement mixed with the desire as he left those spell books to full focus on the mutant that had darken his doorway.

He stood up as he moved towards the mutant- his head tilting as there was littel glint in his eyes.]

I take it- this means you are feeling better?

[ Was he forgiven somewhat? He had noticed the other suddenly chosing to busy himself with others or find some excuse not join the Kings Table at the Grey Room. He noted that tied robe, however.]

Or do you wish me to find more gifts?

[ There's more than a little relief when he sees that familiar warmth on Caliban's face, and he relaxes, hands going to untie his robe, so the demon can see the lace and garters and panties. He has to admit, as ridiculous as he's certain he looks, it does feel nice against his skin... ]

Mm, it's a miracle: the headache's gone.

[ Though he wouldn't say no to more gifts, of course. But Fabian isn't looking to push it on that front. He leans in to kiss his Dominant, one hand sliding up Caliban's chest. It's a little more chaste than he normally would, since he's still not feeling up for, well. Everything. But still, he wants to put the mess of Tumenalia behind him. Stuff the trauma in a little box and bury it. ]

I wanted to show my gratitude in person, my king.

Oh?

[ Caliban can't stop his reaction as the other undoes that robe, and he's greeted with the sight of those lace, garters, and panties. The other might think he looks ridiculous, but the demon thinks he looks utterly divine. There was a hum of appreciation as his hand scooped around the other's waist and brushed along his side as he finally dragged his eyes back up to the other's face. The demon's strong body pressed against that hand and he returned that kiss, though he lets it linger a little more than the others chaste approach before he breaks it with an interested glint in his eyes.]

Praise be that particular miracle then. The last thing I want is you to be wanting for anything...

Something so precious of mine shouldn't be broken so.

[ And least by anyone who wasn't him. His other hand raised to brush his knucles along the other's jawline affectionately before tilting that head up to meet his eyes.]

I am happy you showed me such a sinful sight, Princess. You look divine.

Edited 2025-12-16 10:46 (UTC)

[ Does he half-expect ridicule for his outfit? Yes. The fact that it doesn't come, that Caliban seems to be really into it, is heartening. Maybe he should dabble in this sort of thing more often, if this is the reaction it gets...

The praise and sweet words isn't so dissimilar to how Fabian would probably act if he were in Caliban's position, but he has to admit it's effective. He's been starved for this sort of attention for years, before finding himself in this city, and so he soaks it up with a smile. ]

I'm glad it pleases you. [ He turns his head just enough to kiss the demon's knuckles. ] I really do regret leaving you feeling so... neglected, Lord. Though I'm sure you've had no shortage of eager volunteers to keep you company.

Such words feel something of an understatement.

[ He mused back as a smile danced along his lips as the other kissed along his knuckles.] I certainly had a few fun little playmates...

[ He wasn't about to deny that he was something who indulged when he got the chance. His hand does become a little firmer on Fabian's hip as he brushed his lips along the edge of the others ear.]

None of them, however, were mine. None were my pretty princess. None could inspire me to such...carnal need as you.

[ After everything that happened, he shouldn't enjoy this kind of talk. It may not be Caliban's intention, but all he can hear is a sweeter version of what was said to him on that stage. But still, there's something comforting in that. Pathetic as is it, he'd rather be desired and owned than the alternative.

He wonders if Caliban knows that. He must know. That's why he said what he said during Tumenalia. He can see the truth of Fabian better than most. ]

Good. I am yours. [ He reaches between Caliban's legs to stroke at the bulge in his briefs, before giving an affectionate squeeze. ] Play with whoever you want, my king. As long as you come back to me.

[ Tumenalia had simply enhanced his more negative traits, but it didn't mean that Caliban's possessive streak was dead and buried. Hell, it was those same words that had enchanted him so much at the king's table. It never crossed Caliban's mind not to utter them.

There's a soft gasp as that hand finds that bugle, and he feels himself twitch against the mutant's hand. Turned on by those simple three words as much as the others hand.]

Same to you, Princess. You may wander, but as long as you know who's collar you wear-

[ his hand dips long enough to brush along the other's arm before there's a show of demonic strength as he lifts the other up, letting others hips press against his and those legs slip around his waist.]

You may have that distance when you need it...for another headache. As long as you darken my door once again.

[ He pointed out as he peered up at the mutant, his eyes meeting his.]

Edited 2025-12-16 15:58 (UTC)

[ He has to admit, he loves when Caliban picks him up so effortlessly. Being as tall as he is, Fabian never got to experience this before. He wraps his legs around the demon, arms looped around his shoulders, a warm smile spreading across his face as he hold's the other's gaze. ]

I'm proud to wear your collar, you know. [ Which is true. It's not empty flattery when he says that. He's seen other submissives, with cheap collars, or collars that look like they belong on dogs, and knows how much he'd loathe every humiliating second of wearing one of those things.

Caliban's is beautiful, well crafted, the work of a true artisan, and it speaks to the power of his Dominant. If he has to be kept and collared, he can't think of any collar he'd rather wear.

He ducks his head to purr into the demon's ear: ] You own me, after all. I belong to you, and no one else.

[ That demonic strength makes holding the other up effortlessly and for the demon, he doesn't even consider *not* treating the other like some pretty little thing to pick up and move- to carry in his arms like a *princess*. ]

Oh? [ There was a warmth that spread through Caliban at those words- at the idea that the other was happy to wear his mark on him, the rune of hell carved into that collar in the various intricate designs that might scare off so many if they knew what it was. There's a soft growl of approval at those next purred words. It sends a spark right to that possessive nature of his soul. Perhaps he should be so easy to rile up like this- but his fingers become a little more intense on the other's ass and leg as he moves him towards the large, grand bed of the Master Bedroom.]

Next, you'll tell me that no one of your other little playmates compares...

[ He teased as he lowered Fabian to the bed shockingly gently, his lips moving to brush against the small of Fabian's neck where it connected to his shoulder, his hand smoothing up the inside of his leg as if he was admiring that outfit though his touch with a little soft groan.]

Princess...Sweet hell...

[ Often, Fabian likes things rough. He wants to be manhandled and even... disrespected, at least in certain contexts, without an audience. Who knows if it's a byproduct of his self loathing, or some pathetic kink he developed when he had to (metaphorically) lick Magneto's boots, or if it's just simple preference with nothing deeper to it. In any case, right now, he craves none of that. So, when Caliban carries him like he's something precious, and lays him down gently, it's exactly what Fabian needed.

He opens his legs to encourage that exploring hand. God... When did he go from hating that nickname, to grudgingly tolerating it, to actually enjoying it? Anyone else would make it sound like an insult.

There's just one sticking point for the moment, however. ]

Every inch of me is yours. I only ask that today, ah... We don't... My...

[ Hm. Trying to find the words is more awkward than he expected. ]

I haven't fucked anyone since... that night, you know.

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