Eager to Please

Tipol is copyrighted to Sallie Drazzi

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Ash hadn’t particularly minded being called fucked up. He had argued of course, denied it, but internally he knew it to be true. He had endured days of innuendo and joking by several persons, Tipol not least of all.

But for some reason, when Tipol called him pitiful in addition to fucked up, it struck a different nerve in him.

Ash backed off and lowered his head, a submissive posture. His body, particularly his erection, protested the crouched posture, but he could ignore that well enough. He’d ignored heat and lust urges before, he could ignore this.

“Seriously, this is so fucking pitiful and totally aggravating my memories,” Tipol was pushing himself to stand, gracefully, moving like liquid, “So either I'm leaving so it no longer offends me, or I'm leaving and you're following so you can be taught the use of hand lotion.”

The young Shadow really had no idea why Tipol had made that offer. He could infer well enough that it had something to do with his state of arousal, given that Tipol had been a sex slave, but beyond that matters of things sexual eluded him. He could barely grasp what lotion was for certain.

On instinct, Ash looked to Jenii, his General, for instruction. However, if Jenii noticed the look, which he surely did, he was ignoring it. Ash grunted, that meant the General was testing his ability to think on his own. He certainly was not comfortable with that, making decisions in this foreign world among strangers, which was probably why it was a very apt test for Jenii to put him through.

Tipol had already gone from the room. Something within Ash compelled him to follow, for as much as he hated the Felinoid, he still followed him.

The Felinoid’s ear flicked backwards when Ash entered the hallway, and his paced slowed somewhat. Ash caught up to him just as he was entering one of the house’s bathing rooms.

Tipol immediately turned, those intense eyes focusing on Ash, “Let’s get something straight first.”

Ash felt that twinge he’d had before, the one that made him drop back into a crouch, “You hate me and take great enjoyment in my suffering?”

He was pretty sure that was true, he hated to admit it to himself, but he was sure of it. Why else would the damn cat constantly tease at him?

“No, I feel sorry for you and that's why I'm going to teach you this.”

Ash canted his head ever so slightly, surprised by that response. He wasn’t sure if it was any better than hating – or no, he did know that. Having Tipol hate him clenched a bad feeling deep in his gut. Having Tipol pity him, although dishonourable, did not feel so bad. His warrior pride told him that he would prefer to be hated, but he just… didn’t.

Tipol was continuing to talk, explaining almost as if to a child, the way he often spoke to Ash, “I've been in that position, but I didn't have my hands free, so I know it's not a fucking picnic. Besides which, if you're going to look down your nose at me and try and insult me for having had so much sex, you should know what a damn orgasm feels like.”

“I’d prefer it if you hated me,” Ash outright lied. It was the response dictated by his warrior pride, it had to be the right response. Gut reactions and feelings did not take precedent over proper warrior behaviour.

When Tipol had phrased it that way, looking down his nose at him, Ash felt bad though. He hadn’t meant to look down on Tipol in any way, in fact, some of the most amazing beings from his world consisted for the most part of sex slaves.

“I only insulted to try and get you to back off.”

That was not a lie. For hours upon hours he had sat there with Tipol debasing him, taunting him with innuendo he couldn’t understand. Ash at times had felt injured, and the one thing he could figure out about Tipol had been his only possible area of counterattack.

“It doesn’t work with me.”

Tipol’s long, prehensile tail snaked through the air, pushing the door shut as easily as if Tipol had reached out with his hand and done it. The Felinoid’s hands, however, were occupied with smearing some near-liquid substance on one another.

“I noticed,” Ash growled, watching those hands, the slender fingers moving over one another. Tipol had mentioned hand lotion, certainly that was the lotion of which he’d spoke.

“Stand up, for fuck’s sake,” Tipol ordered.

Ash pushed himself up obediently. He excused that it had been the tone, entirely the tone. That commanding tone was just ingrained in him to obey. He hadn’t done it because Tipol had asked, it had only been the tone.

“I've been insulted by people who were trying harder than you daily,” the Felinoid sighed as if he was greatly put upon by this.

The Shadow wanted to move back as Tipol approached, even if he wasn’t sure exactly why. He watched as Tipol’s hands loosened his pants, the fabric releasing some from outlining his arousal, then stretched again by Tipol’s hand moving down.

Ash couldn’t help but stiffen – his entire body – at the touch. He hadn’t wanted to display that sort of reaction to Tipol, so perhaps he could mask it by talking.

“I’m terrible at a great many things.”

Those subtle growls shifted from irritation to pleasure without him much realising it had happened. The feel of Tipol’s skin was at first cool, then warming, but somewhat soft and slick.

“But you seem to know that,” Ash finished, tensing against a very good sensation.

Tensing against pleasure, as if he didn’t want it. He did, but he also didn’t. He didn’t want to show Tipol that he was pleased, for whatever reason, thinking was becoming quite difficult. He doubted very much this was proper warrior behaviour, to find pleasure in a beautiful Felinoid touching him.

He could barely recall some of his early training that had dealt with control of heat lust They certainly promoted that, denial of sexual urges. Ash had apparently excelled in that, having so easily controlled himself until now. So easily, in fact, that he had no concept of touching himself for pleasure – something that was apparently infantile according to Tipol.

Tipol was speaking, but the words blurred together somewhat for Ash, “You can't banter, lack character and a few other long list of things, including being too stubborn to grow the hell up.”

The Shadow forced himself to remain perfectly still, tensing his muscles until they burned. Tipol was working his length of excitement in a steady rhythm, a motion that felt very good.

Then some part of Ash didn’t want to tense and deny that Tipol was pleasing him. This rebel part of him suddenly wanted to do something to please the Felinoid in return, some sort of approval perhaps.

“What exactly…” Ash had to carefully force out words between growls, watching every syllable for any pleased sounds that might try and slip past his defense, “would be a display of character?”

Ash hoped for a good answer. He wanted to learn, to show character to Tipol.

“Showing you can think for yourself. Or just think full stop.”

He was disappointed. He’d thought he’d done that when he’d decided to follow Tipol. Obviously it hadn’t been enough.

“That wasn't exactly encouraged among those of my rank,” he grunted.

“In case you hadn't noticed, this isn't the army,” the tone didn’t change, still snide and almost as if disgusted.

The cat’s other hand slid up under Ash’s shirt, over the rippled muscle of abdomen. Ash clenched and unclenched his fists, hands moving and hesitating, unsure of what to do with themselves.

He exhaled, forcing himself to relax somewhat. His warrior pride was demanding he not speak what he wanted to, but that rebelling part of him reared up again, trying desperately for some sort of other reaction from Tipol.

“I noticed, I just can’t adjust,” it was an honest admittance, his problem, his weakness. Tipol now knew where Ash was wounded, vulnerable.

“I can’t relate,” Tipol replied dryly.

Tipol’s nails danced their way up Ash’s abs, making each muscle shudder. Ash sucked in a breath when that titillation reached the arch of his ribcage, his entire body shuddering when the sensation peaked and centered around a nipple. Ash had had no idea that very small and ignorable part of his body could feel that damn good.

“You're supposed to be thinking of your sexual fantasies here, not talking to-“ Tipol paused, his expression remaining blank, “No wait, you don't have any, do you?”

The young demon churned that over in his mind, a very hazy mind, so it was a very slow churning before some thoughts of coherence were produced. He hadn’t known his thoughts should have been sexual in nature, he really had very little he knew of that was sexual that he could think about. For the most part, his was caught between the majority of warrior pride in remaining tense, and the rebellious urges.

It wasn’t as if he could outright admit that he was trying to win the Felinoid’s approval, his pride would certainly not allow that. The thoughts were by no means sexual, but they constituted something, at the very least a half-truth he could answer with.

Ash grunted, still carefully monitoring his speech, “You'd call it very pitiful and fragmented, since I know so very little.”

Tipol sighed, as if no more than bored, “Pitiful and fragmented is a start anyway.”

Although the tone had sounded the same, teasing, demeaning, Ash’s rebellious part gleaned a small bit of pride from the words.

The attention and rhythm shifted, a little faster, the pressure increasing. Just those small changes seemed to pulse so much more pleasure into Ash.

“And... it is not about the infant,” Ash forced, needing to make that clear.

So much teasing centered around that dark-skinned infant of Calm’s that had taken a liking to him. In honesty, Ash had wanted to admit his thoughts were swirling around Tipol, but his pride had cut him short of that.

“Hey, I don't care. Whatever man, woman, or child you have to think about to get your rocks off. Do you need some vocal help here?”

The demon forced one eye open, focusing on Tipol. Each wave of pleasure seemed to be building, it was taking all his pride to keep himself in control. He really had no idea what Tipol meant anyway, no point thinking over it.

“Vocal help,” the cat rolled his eyes.

Tipol’s scent hit him hard as the slender Felinoid leaned in closer to him. That personal musk and heat wrapped around Ash, suffocating him from the outside as the intense pleasure built from within. He had to close his eyes again, taking deep breaths to take it in better.

Then the sounds came. A first it was a slow, building pant, one after another. Gradually they poured themselves into lengthening moans, punctuated by sharp gasps.

Ash cut his growls off abruptly. He wanted to hear Tipol, every little sound.

The pleasure peaked white-hot, shooting through him, cracking through all the tense defenses and sparking spasms most every muscle in his body. His heart tripped, breath catching, and he was damn grateful he had silenced himself for fear of the sounds that wanted to rush out of him.

Tipol continued to touch him, stroking Ash’s sex as it diminished, easing him down from that intense climax. Ash gradually resumed his growling, unable to help himself. There was this overwhelming sense of calm, relaxation… something he’d never felt before. He felt… content.

The Felinoid slipped his touches away, pacing over to the sink to wash his hands, “Think you can handle that next time then?”

Ash fought his way up out of the haze, struggling for words. “I doubt so well…” he admitted, truthfully.

“Well, that's all I'm good for.”

The Shadow felt a twinge of hurt cut into the contentment. He hadn’t ever meant those words, he regretted he’d ever used them, but of course he couldn’t just say that.

“But you're good at something,” he tracked Tipol through barely open eyes. He felt better for the moment, Tipol was raised above him again – he who was good at nothing.

“Oddly enough, I don't consider being good at being a rebellious set of holes that much of an achievement in life.”

Tipol doused a wash cloth in the water, his tail holding it towards Ash. He didn’t even have to turn towards the demon. Somehow, by trying to praise him, Ash had insulted him again.

“Thank you... you're good at insulting me,” he tried, irritated at himself. Even his thanking hadn’t sounded grateful, even if he was grateful for several things.

“You make it too easy.”

“Because I have no character, I know,” Ash attempted instead to focus on cleaning himself up, fixing up his clothes.

Tipol replied with his same calm, snide tone that Ash was beginning to hate, “How fortunate, you're still a child and have time to develop one, or does Jenii have to order you to first?”

“Just because I find comfort in something I'm used to…” the words failed, dissolving into growls. He hated himself for admitting that he needed comfort.

“Find new things to get used to.”

Ash thought over that. He had been in this human world for a long time, and he had tried to adjust. He had no idea why he kept failing that, why he kept clinging to the warrior ways of a world there was no point returning to. He was lost, shut out of his home and all he knew, forced into this strange world he just couldn’t learn.

Tipol just shook his head, using his serpentine tail to open the door. “Anyway, I won’t tell Force-Calm that you were fantasizing about his child.”

For once, Ash appreciated the taunting. He could drag himself out of his thoughts and right into a quick, angry retort. Anger was safe, he knew anger.

“I was not!”

“You keep coming back here for something,” the Felinoid taunted, moving down the hall with an easy grace.

“It is not the infant!” Ash protested.

Tipol paused his step, twisting his slender form to look back at Ash. His face remained serious, his tone level, “Okay, I believe you.”

Even Ash could tell he didn’t. Just fucking teasing him again. Why the hell had he ever hoped, ever had those strange feelings?

“Drop dead,” Ash growled and stalked past him.





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Index