Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The one rule Sonic lived by was when it came down to fight or flight; always choose flight.

A lesson ground into him at an unfairly tender age. He was the only one of his kind, the only one could get away if he ran. And so, he was meant to run. Standing ground meant losing any advantage and losing your life. Running meant surviving to fight another day. It was not the coward’s way out, his guardian had explained. ”The bravest fighter counts for nothing when they’re dead.”

So he lived by that. Even if he had nothing at all, he had his freedom. He had the ability to run when others could no longer do so, and that was something he learned from a young age to never, ever take for granted. He often watched people struggling around him, who would look to the sky and beg for somewhere else they could flee to — to be like the avians that ruled Babylon — unable to understand that sentiment.

”Why?” he’d asked. ”Why wish for wings when you haven’t got any? I’ll run, on my own legs, for as long as it takes.”

Those bewildered looks, the jaded elders and hopeful youngsters. Most of them dead, now, probably. And he’d failed them, by being here.

Everything he knew, every rule he’d lived by, was meaningless now.

“I said hold him, soldier!”

“I’m— I’m trying, Captain, Sir!”

“If His Highness sees us struggling with this ingrate like a bunch of clowns, we risk our reputation as his most trusted guardsmen!”

“OW—! He— he fucking bit me!”

The doors to the Prince’s viewing chambers swung open — too early — just in time for the Captain of the guard to land a vicious backhanded blow across the hedgehog’s mouth. It was the sort of blow that sent most larger men flying onto their back. For the hedgehog, it sent him momentarily staggering sideways, but he did not fall. He returned upright, something defiant glittering in his gaze. Infuriated by what he saw there, the Captain slapped him again.

A thin thread of hysteria threatened, and he had to remind himself to stay in control, or this would be over all too quickly. He had enjoyed the Captain’s irritation, in the same way he had — perhaps masochistically — enjoyed the blow.

Blood welled from his newly cut lip; the Captain wore rings on his fingers.

“Bring him to His Highness’s feet,” the Captain spat.

There was a renewed struggle, now. The opulence of the royal viewing chambers dizzied his senses. The air was thick with good-smelling incense, and he was used to the wide, plain open land of sand and dunes and drab-colored buildings. Here were too many colors, and everything was patterns on patterns on patterns. There was nowhere for his eyes to rest, not even on the tiled flooring, which had small, brightly colored jewels in every connecting corner of the hall.

“Here he is, my Prince,” said the Captain with a flourish and a bow, pride swelling his words. “It is the nuisance who has thwarted your grand efforts for years. The Blue Phantom— and we have caught him in your honor.”

It had taken half the guard on patrol to wrangle him, and he resembled more a wild horse they’d snagged and dragged quite literally kicking and screaming than he did of the infamous rebel leader Prince Jet had assumed the phantom to be.

As a boy, Jet had once stood in awe as his father had ordered an untamed Arabian stallion trapped and brought in to be broken in for his personal use. It had reared, screamed, and broken bones with its hooves. Right now, Jet recalled that memory. Lashed by many ropes, the hedgehog rebel thrashed again when his furious green gaze met the Prince’s, and he tugged two men down with the motion in a burst of frantic activity.

A hedgehog of his size and stature should not have been this difficult to hold— but most hedgehogs didn’t possess the unnatural speed and strength this one appeared to.

“Stop that!” the Captain shouted, as if he could simply shout the hedgehog into submission— not that it had worked this far. “Before I dequill you right here for the amusement of the Prince!”

The rebel stopped, only because he’d been jerked sideways back into proper viewing position once the two fallen guards righted themselves, the yank to his lashed arms and body vengeful. Ears pinned and teeth bared hatefully, those eyes flashed with indignant anger at the Captain once more, breathing ragged and harsh. He said nothing, but then again, he didn’t need to; the look he gave was killing.

Righting himself, the Captain returned to bowing before his Prince.

“If it pleases you,” he said, “this one is called ‘Sonic.’ Certainly an unimaginative name,” he muttered the last, receiving a quiet snarl from the hedgehog.

Perhaps related to the current situation laid before his feet, it did not go unnoticed by Jet that the Captain’s favorite riding crop was snapped in half, dangling at his hip, or that one guard was nursing a bleeding mark on the top of his hand, or the dirty shoe print that was left on the front chest of his uniform.

“What would you have us do with him, my Prince?” He turned with a sadistic glee to sneer at the hedgehog. “His pelt is unlike any color that occurs in this region, almost as brilliant as yourself, my Prince. It would fetch an incredible price, if you did not wish to keep it among your own trophies.”

“Hedgehogs are not particularly common here either, my Prince,” said the one nursing a nasty bite, spitefully. “The quills may be worth even more than the skin.”

A new lunge, the guard letting out a little scream and scrambling back, dropping his end of the rope when the hedgehog shot toward him. The others shouted, half at their captor, half berating the negligent guard when they almost lost their hold as a result. The hedgehog was leering at the cowering guard with a vicious glee.

“…At any rate,” the Captain said, grimly, “It is good that he’s been brought in. As a flight risk, I highly suggest deciding on a course of action, soon.”

Jet sighed deeply, as if to show off his boredom in the potential face of danger. Rumored as he was, to have the Blue Phantom in the flesh in front of him should've been a massive moment to anyone around. This was the thing that was famous for the aura of mystery around it, only flashy unnatural colors and stories of mild acts of good around the poor whispered around the streets. Too quick for most to catch with an untrained eye, and it looked like the rat behind the mask had finally slipped up.

As the Prince of Babylon, it was his duty to run the lands. And having something so unpredictable was dangerous for the kingdom. It was unruly, irresponsible. A potential for power to rise up unexpectedly, and that was how kingdoms fell. Especially when there was already a resistance unhappy with his reign. Ugh. Jet had his best guards on the case to shut it down, and it seemed that this blue blur had finally came to a halting stop in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Now he was in Jet's talons, with fire in his eyes as if that was enough to start a spark and send the palace burning to the ground.

"A hedgehog, of all things. I had figured you weren't avian for your lack of flight, but I guess that explains why you've been such a prick in my side."

The prince mused as he uncrossed his legs to step out of his throne, coming closer to the wild captive even if the concern looks his guards gave him silently advised not to.

"You're probably just a bastard child who got told too many fairytales and now your head is in the clouds. Is that right? Perhaps if you beg I'll take mercy on you. Your speed is rather intriguing as it is... give me a reason I shouldn't heed my men's advice." He leered forwards, still out of attacking range but close enough to give the writhing body a good up and down.

Taking that lavish blue fur for his wall would be quite boastful. It suited something like the gifts and riches from neighboring kingdoms he had received before, but breathing live before him. And those eyes... Jet cracked a wide grin. He was too pretty for the vigilante life.

The hedgehog — Sonic — did not take well to being approached. He evidently held no regard for royalty, or perhaps he was showing Jet exactly what he thought. His teeth were bared, tilting up an arrogant chin, the prideful set of shoulders not hindered much at all by the rope restraining his upper body nor by the blood trailing down his chin. He met Jet’s stare, hard, saying without words, I’ll take you on, just take off the ropes.

“He isn’t much of a talker, this one,” one of the irritated guards muttered.

“That’s what you think,” said the guard with the shoe print on his chest. “You weren’t there when we first caught him. It was like he was trying to talk us to death.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the Captain snapped, whirling on his men. “This vermin knows better than to speak to his betters. My Prince—“ Returning his attention, “—I would not try to coax words out of this mongrel, he’s the most uncivilized animal we’ve ever caught, even amongst the rebels.”

“I don’t think it can talk,” drawled one of the older guards. “I think it’s broken.”

“Says you! This ingrate said things about my mother that no dignified person should ever say!”

While the guards squabbled, attentions swung away, Jet’s only warning was the briefest bunch of Sonic’s muscles before he lunged. The speed and suddenness of the way he threw himself dragged them bodily, and they tried to throw their weight back to stop him once they realized, but it was already too late—

He’d headbutted the Crown Prince.

It resonated with a loud crack in hall, servants screaming as if Jet had just been killed, every guard posted lunging to attention with furious outrage.

Sonic was smirking down at him, apparently unfazed by the brutal hit to his own head.

“I’ll tell you what you can do with your ‘mercy,’” the insolent hedgehog said, grinning. “You can use it in place of your Captain’s horse whip, and screw yourself.”

Pandemonium.

“You,” the Captain seethed, stepping in to protect his Prince, “Insolent—“ He reached for the belt of the nearest guard he saw, filching the crop he found there and cracked it across his own thigh before pointing it at the hedgehog, “—Vapid creature! It’s death to lay a hand to the Prince! Hold him!”

It seemed he was planning on taking Sonic’s suggestion with the horse whip, approaching him, red in the face and rearing back to strike that sneering, pretty face—

But Sonic was not afraid of something like a whip. With the temporary confusion and activity his little stunt erupted in the hall, Sonic took advantage and did the one thing that made catching hedgehogs nearly impossible. He curled up, twisting and shredding through the ropes with his quills, which rendered his arms freed. With them pulled taut before it had been impossible to move his body, but the slack provided by the confusion gave him the only opening he needed.

Forget this palace, forget the Prince. I’ll be gone before they can even kiss his forehead better.

There was a deafening crack that echoed throughout the hall, servants leaping out of his way and guards fruitlessly throwing themselves to try and stop him, but he was too fast. Grinning, adrenaline pumped— Once he was free, there was nothing that could stop him.

He burst through the doors of the viewing room so that they nearly broke on their hinges. He could almost smell the fresh air of the outside before he even got out of the palace. Freedom was within his grasp; told himself it had never been out of his grasp.

Jet yelped in pain as the fool had the nerve to make a break for it, hands covering the blow to his head as his vision blurred for a minute. Holy shit. But he wasn't quite down for the count yet, stumbling back as one of the guards helped him stay on his feet.

"Get him! If he leaves it's your lives on the line!" He shouted as he was held back to receive medical care. As much as he would've liked to hop on his board and ride after him... he'd do that another day.

Being brought back to his throne, he groaned, pinching between his eyes.

"Lucky bastard. Bring him to me no matter what it takes. Alive." An odd request for someone who just made an attempt on a royal's life, but Jet wanted to personally be there to see to his fate. Death by a guard just wasn't good enough, not for him.

"Your highness, he's already made it to the gates it seems-- he's the Blue Phantom. It won't be long until he vanishes." The guard next to him spoke, and Jet would've thrown something out of anger if his head didn't pound so bad.

"Are you stupid? Send in our own hedgehog then, damn it!"

Somewhere deeper into the catacombs underneath the palace, Shadow trailed his fingertips over the latest shipment of equipment.

He was checking for irregularities, imperfections, quality…and of course, taking proper care to put each tool in it's place for when it would be put to use. Leathers and twines, waxes and iron rods.

Such primal tools. Things that anyone could use, but only someone specialized could take to their fullest advantage.

His peace was interrupted as footsteps quickly padded along the stone floors, and a lone ear turned towards the scuffle of shoes before the rest of his body did.

"And what could be so important as to interrupt my work..?" Shadow drawled on first, raising a brow at the two guards panting in effort in front of him.

"Our apologies, Master Shadow, but you're needed at the gates. A prisoner is escaping and he's quite fast, he might be gone by now even. It's the Prince's orders, he asked for you to take care of the situation. We're sorry..!"

Shadow exhaled a little too strongly out his nose as he waved a hand up, brushing off their urgency.

"Tch. I really wish his Highness would hire some more competent help these days,” he complained, picking something else off the table he was previously leaning over. A golden emerald, seemingly glowing off the candlelight in the dimmed room. 

"Very well. As he commands.”

He dismissed his out of breath company, and with a whisper of a spell, evaporated into nothing but light.

When he reappeared the very next moment, it was outside. Now what on earth was going on..?

A blue streak caught his eye, and Shadow smiled.

The Prince had his grips on the Blue Phantom, here in the flesh. No wonder they called for him. His annoyance drifted away as he debated the worth of the task. This might actually be amusing work, for once.

He quickly dashed into action, his boots lighting up with magic underneath him to help push him forward. Right next to this blue streak, making out the body leading the front of it.

Shadow didn't say anything or give himself an introduction to his target. He merely dived towards the ground and steadied himself a mere few inches in front of the other hedgehog, and using his upper body to hold himself against the grass, used the entirety of his upper body to send the blue streak tripping. And that would easily allow him enough time to subdue his prey.

Run. No matter what, you have to keep running. Do not stop to fight, do not stop to—

A wretched yelp escaped Sonic as he tripped. At the velocity he was going, he landed hard, and the ground burned where his body slid quite some distance before he knew what was happening. He was agile, he was perceptive— he didn’t trip. He’d been focused, had only seen the endless stretch of land the moment he’d escaped from behind the gates, so what could he have possibly missed?

Experience told him to roll rather than lay there and parse out what happened, to avoid whatever attack typically came after one’s enemy tried to incapacitate you. He was back on his feet in the blink of an eye, a motion anyone would have missed.

Anyone except for the hedgehog who had, against all odds, caught up to him. Sonic righted himself slowly, quite a bit of distance between them, but if this person could match his speed somehow, was no distance at all.

The stranger’s body was almost imperceptible in the dark, if not for the flashes of red denoting there was someone there, and not some phantom. And in his hand— a glittering, massive jewel that seemed to pulse with energy. That very energy sang inside his own body, responding to it, beckoning, despite the danger its wielder posed.

Green eyes were wide with the briefest moment of fright and confusion, until that fear was shoved firmly back with sheer, impossible willpower. Speed or no, magic or no— this stranger was just one of many obstacles to his freedom. Sonic couldn’t afford to be taken in by the grandeur of his sudden mystifying appearance.

His eyes narrowed viciously and he took off again, kicking up a violent burst of sand that flung back onto the black hedgehog. Sand was possibly the worst terrain to run on— and it was what he’d spent most of his life running on. It accelerated him on solid ground, but he still had gone untouched even on the worst of grounds.

At least, he had before tonight.

Impressive, was the first thought through Shadow's head at the sheer recovery time the other had. His next move would not be so simple.

Before the sand could land back on the ground or onto his fur, he disappeared and reappeared again— this time in a lunge directly into the other hedgehog. If sending him rolling alone would prove useless, then Shadow would take it upon himself to roll with him until he stopped moving.

The velocity and their impact meeting in a loud crack to anyone else, and Shadow braced his quills as he predictably tumbled backwards, emerald safe in his quills as he gripped his claws into a peach-furred chest. After quite a roll down a dune, Shadow used his strength to shove the other hedgehog beneath him, and his weight to keep him there.

His energy was…interesting. Even more so than the show of power he held. As if it were its own power source. That could serve useful to his research on energies and wielding them to his will.

The next thing Sonic would see is crimson eyes glaring down at him skeptically, as Shadow quite literally worked his magic to weaken him.

"I do hope the prince isn't dead set on killing you," Shadow spoke, his voice low and warning. Though he hadn't said exactly why.

Another inaudible spell, and Shadow took his captive back to the palace. A few guards jumped at their sudden appearance, weapons drawn in case of another breakout attempt.

"Relax," Shadow called them off, light working around fingertips as he somehow sucked the very force out of Sonic, working them in a chained link around his wrists and ankles. "He's subdued. You're welcome."

"…What the hell..?" Another guard looked skeptical.

"Temporary inhibitors. I'm using his own force against him. They'll wear off when he does."

Shadow didn't like to have to explain his actions, but it was the best way to keep wariness off his back about it. He wanted to get out of here, and present a job done to the green pest that sent him out in the first place.

The rogue hedgehog had thrashed and growled angrily under Shadow, indignant and furious at finding himself trapped again. What the hell? he wanted to scream. Who was this guy?

He wouldn’t have a chance to even make a snarky comeback— his body went abruptly limp under Shadow, like the breath had been punched from his chest. Fatigue hit, and all the fight drained from his body. What…the hell…

Sonic had never before blacked out, but today was proving itself to be a day of firsts. He struggled to hold onto consciousness, but perhaps it would’ve been better to not be aware of his own return back to that wretched palace, with that wretched Prince Jet.

He groaned quietly, twitched and tried to wriggle free, and while he could resist to an impressive degree considering Shadow’s ability to use his own body’s power against him, he only succeeded in wearing himself out further, dropping heavy and limp against him once more. His breathing was heavy, but it did nothing to help his situation.

I should never have left the compound today, he thought dreadfully. If only I’d…

No. No point in regretting now. He couldn’t save himself by dwelling on what he’d done wrong. He had to keep his head and stay calm. There was no cage, no situation he’d never escaped from before.

…He’d also never dealt with arrogant Princes or their witchy hedgehogs before, though. And currently, keeping his head was proving difficult. Every little ache hurt, from the beating he’d gotten by the guard, to the lines of deep bruising caused by the too-tight bindings, and then getting pummeled into the dirt not once, but twice.

He blearily recognized the palace tiles underfoot, groaning again and making a renewed struggle; which, in his state, could only be achieved by flexing a little, a weak attempt at thrashing his body that went nowhere. When he saw the boots of the prince again, he could’ve laughed, if he’d had the energy to.

"The runaway, your Highness. He shouldn't be able to hurt you know, but once he passes out my hold on him will disappear, so make your judgements now."

Shadow lightly bowed his head as he was having to hold their hostage up on his feet, one arm around his back and the other firmly holding onto his upper arm.

Jet however did laugh, softly as he winced. There was a good sized lump forming in the middle of his skull now from the blow Sonic gave him.

"If anyone could, Shadow. You'll be rewarded for your troubles, of course, of course..."

Stepping around the two hedgehogs, Jet seemed to take a moment in thought. Punishments; sentences, likely.

The easy go-to was death. It didn't matter particularly how. Sonic has indeed warranted it from his escape attempt and battery on the bloodline. But.. there were fates worse than death.

Death was a release. The Blue Phantom in particular, had been popular with rumors of a free kingdom, one where the people governed their own destinies, for life and for freedom.

So how ironic would it be for him to pull this stunt?

Jet wanted to make an example out of that pretty blue mess of quills. He wanted to see the legend at the bottom of his throne, forgetful of the rebellion of his past life and what he stood for, once upon a time. He wanted those emerald eyes cast to the floor, only peering up when the prince gave him the opportunity to be held by him, and how much adoration he'd hold for the hawk in those moments.

Something so dangerous made into his personal pet. The itch Jet felt for collecting rare treasures nagged at him, what would be more priceless than this particular rebel moaning his name on silk sheets?

"He's rather pretty, isn't he? Just look at that color, wouldn't you agree?" Jet dared to pet his hand over a wilted blue ear, watching it twitch under the attention.

"...Yes, your Highness. You don't often see such bright tones here in the desert," Shadow replied flatly. "Are you to have him taxidermied, perhaps?"

"Geezus, Shadow." Jet shook his head. "That's not only morbid, but kind of creepy. I guess I shouldn't be surprised when it comes to you, though." His hand traveled underneath Sonic's chin, holding the heavy head up and smirking at his sorry state. His skull felt better already. "No. In fact, I want him alive."

"Color me surprised. Where shall his place be? For the speed and strength I was shown, he'd do well as a messenger if made agreeable."

"I want him at my feet," Jet cooed as he turned away, letting Sonic's head woefully drop back down in his tired spell. "I want him in my bed."

He sauntered back up his throne, taking a seat back down.

Shadow merely watched the bird prance around, seemingly unbothered.

"My prince," He said firmly. "Jet. You cannot be serious. You're lucky to not have had your skull shattered, and you want to make a bed mate out of him?"

"But isn't that the point?" Jet marveled back, his objective set. And it was hard to talk the stubborn prince out of something he had his desires set on. "Something so powerful... brought to his knees, with only the knowledge to beg for more. You can't tell me I'm crazy for that, I see how you get hungry for power yourself."

"I..." Shadow scoffed.

He really couldn't argue with that, even without the consideration of royal status preventing him to. So he simply dropped his rejection of it. If it went poorly, then the hedgehog would be put to death. Simple as that. But now that meant someone would have to break him in, and...

"I assume you're not just going to let me return to my duties after this, are you?"

Jet hummed in affirmation, easing back into his seat.

"Who better than my most trusted slave trainer? Not to mention the very one to actually be able to get a hold on the Blue Phantom. The grip will get easier the less slippery he becomes, or something convoluted you say like that. So go forge up some documents for him. I trust you won't disappoint me with your work."

A single hand shooed them away, and Shadow bowed his head once more as he turned to leave.

"Do I have a time limit?" He paused as he asked, still facing away from the lax prince.

"As long as you eventually bring him to me with the promise to reliably bed him, then no. Do what you will, as you must. You're a treasure to me, Shadow."

The dark hedgehog held back rolling his eyes. It was presumable that Jet would put more of a burden on his already full hands, but…this time, he wasn't sure if he minded it.

Sensing the energy radiating off the cuffs he had forged on his newest slave, it wouldn't prove an entire waste of time, he supposed.

Chapter Text

Forging ownership papers was easy enough, just busywork. Shadow sat in one of the underground chambers where he usually dwelled, the ambiance rather comforting to him when it was just the dark and his handiwork.

He was filling out the forms for Sonic-- one of the guards had mentioned his given name --to be processed into the kingdom, documenting his citizenship as Jet's property, and the kingdom of Babylon. He'd have to fill out the rest of the spaces like age, height, and weight later when he woke back up from the cot Shadow had laid him in once his energy gave out entirely to rest. But he had a suitable amount of information on a physical description at least to get things started.

Hedgehog-- young adult, male. Short furred in a striking blue color, peach accented on the chest, muzzle, and arms. Mid-length tail, (at the time of capture;) Six counted long, sharp quills. All downturned. Two standard back quills. Seemingly in good health, if a bit malnourished. Strong muscle build, yet sleek for aerodynamics. Strength is focused in the legs.

Shadow leaned back in his chair as he studied the sleeping hedgehog across the small room, then scribbling more back down at his notes.

Long nose. Thick eyelashes. The skull is streamlined for breaking wind, giving a more feminine appearance.

...and in another booklet, he wrote down for himself.

He's weird. His life force feels... self-sustaining. He's very much wild, but not like a crazed feral-- wild like something naturally unrelenting, like a harsh wind. It feels... headstrong. There was shock and there was only a few seconds of fear, but an explosion of warmth-- determination? --after such emotions. He's going to prove to be difficult to break, I can tell.

The rogue hedgehog took a long time to reawaken.

He did so slowly once he finally began to stir. The fatigue continued to thread through his body, perhaps due to the beating of the day before, perhaps due to the fact that he never got anything to eat like he’d planned when he’d been captured in the market, or perhaps it was due to some stranger in the night sucking all his energy out of him.

Recollecting everything, Sonic’s body jolted, but he was still incredibly slow to properly wake. Every sense before sight registered his new surroundings— somewhere dark, quiet, the air a little dank. His nose twitched, scenting it, ears swiveling back and forth as he called upon his uncooperative muscles to just move his damn body already.

The bed under him — a cot? It was a higher elevation than he was used to sleeping at — creaked when he pushed painstakingly onto his hands and knees. Every quill bristled, and his eyes finally opened, blinking rapidly.

Fear temporarily jumpstarted his heart, eyes bouncing rapidly around the room. Room….that wasn’t right. This was the dungeon of the Babylon Palace.

He was quick to jump off the cot, the air of the dungeon too-cool. Quickly, before anyone could see him, he could escape. If the door was locked — which was likely — he simply had to wait for whoever the dungeon master was to return. Sonic was confident he’d have little issue overpowering them.

That was until his frantic green gaze fell on his new keeper. That strange, dark hedgehog.

Sonic bared his teeth, everything bristling, but he wasn’t so eager to immediately attack like he would have been otherwise. Warily, he searched the desk for where that strange gem might be when he didn’t see it in his hand.

The hedgehog who can move just as quickly as me. No…maybe even faster. Who is he?

He didn’t speak, but a little growl raised itself in his chest. His quick inspection of the room had revealed only a single exit, which was expected of a dungeon, and Shadow blocked his path to it.

Shadow sensed his company waking up before he glanced at him-- but only acknowledged him when he looked back up from his paperwork, his body language not very highly alerted even if his quills were raised. That should've said enough on his own.

"Good evening," He spoke again, "Congratulations on avoiding the death penalty."

Shadow stood up from his seat, walking around the front of the table so Sonic could visibly see him, unarmed.

"My name is Shadow, but you will be referring to me as 'Master' or 'Sir' from now on. The prince was... enamored, by the little show you put on trying to get out of here. That thick skull you bumrushed has nothing behind it sometimes, I think." He chuckled darkly, though he made no move to approach Sonic quite yet, merely crossing his arms over the patch of fluff on his chest.

"I know your name. I know the rumors about what you are to the townsfolk, Blue Phantom... I am aware of what you're capable of. But lucky me, I get the honors of training you for the rest of your days in servitude to Babylon."

And now Shadow dared take a step forward, just one.

"I have no agenda to bring you harm unless you've earned it, and I promise to you now that any punishment given will be survivable. I don't agree with typical tactics you hear about-- beatings, and the like. I don't stand by defacing the value of such unique property, which includes those like yourself. That being said, I will do what I have to do to complete my work, and how stressing that is on you is entirely in your hands. Do I make myself clear?"

Shadow finished his spiel, his gaze half-lidded at the end of his sentence as he kept his eyes on Sonic to make sure there wasn't any more lucky breaks.

He didn't expect for Sonic to nod and give him a 'yes, master' like he was supposed to, either. They never did when they first got here. But this would be telling of how well a read he could get on his personality, and exactly what he could do to whittle it down to be remolded again.

Sonic’s expression had gone through a few different transformations as Shadow spoke, starting with the usual trepidation, and then an incredulous widening of his eyes — Shadow practically hearing the ’Seriously?’ when instructed to call him Master or Sir — and then, by the end, all of that wiped clean, the face almost blank as he stared steadily back at him.

He didn’t give ground when Shadow stepped toward him. He drew himself up, not seemingly bothered by his injuries or by his clear disadvantage. That arrogant gaze actually looked Shadow up and down, the hedgehog shifting his weight and then cocking his head, as if his appraisal of Shadow didn’t lend itself to the authority being asked of him. His entire attitude said, And how are you gonna make me?

“No,” was his single worded answer, not shouted in fear or spat in fury. It was simple, incredulous, like it was obvious. Crossing his arms, Shadow’s unstoppable force met with Sonic’s unbreakable wall. Stagnated.

“I am no slave,” he said, as if this idea was exactly as outlandish as a hedgehog capable of breaking the sound barrier to most others. “And I won’t be answering to any self-serving, arrogant princeling, either.” Green eyes narrowed. “Or his magician lackey.”

Shadow sighed again (he'd figured he'd be doing a LOT of that from now on..) and calmly drew power up in his hand, a vague red glow simmering over his left glove as it manifested in a slightly curled palm.

"I understand your reluctance... but I am not here to offer you a choice."

And with a snap of his fingers, the red energy dispersed and regathered around Sonic's neck, something similar to what Shadow had placed on him before with the cuffs. Just another inhibitor spell while they were still getting to know each other. But.. a collar this time, heavyset around his throat.

"This magician lackey is your best shot at keeping that fire of a spirit you have, lest you be broken down into an empty shell. Or worse. A lot of royals would pay a pretty penny for tapestry such a shade of blue you've been born with, and the prince has quite a greed streak in him." Another snap of his fingers and suddenly a loose tie stemmed from the collar around Sonic's neck, flowing over gracefully and weaving between Shadow's fingers.

With a harsh yank, Shadow turned towards the door with property in tow, opening the door and walking Sonic down one of the many corridors of the dungeons. Even without the inhibitor spell, the hallways could all look dangerously the same if you didn't have an idea of where to go and how to get there, which Shadow knew almost every crack and crevice of the underground like the back of his hand.

"They wanted to dismember your quills and sell them for their value." This was his idea of small talk as he led Sonic into yet another room, this one with a stone table with straps on each corner, and a small furnace for at best would be used for warmth. The addition of prongs, livestock branding equipment, and various other things like knives and hand-held sheers made the room a bit less.. appealing, though.

"Speaking of which, since you've proven you can't be trusted with those, you've quickly arrived at your first trial to slavery. I guess you are fast at something."

It didn't matter if Sonic wanted to run. Shadow had a hold on him tight, and there was no physical way out. Especially with Shadow locking the door behind them anyways.

This part was always the worst. As a hedgehog himself, the idea of getting blunted struck Shadow somewhere he would deny if somebody called out his feelings about it. A hedgehog's spines were not only their looks, but a part of their body like a mobian with long fur being sheered clean, or even a bird much like the prince being defeathered. It was their biology, a last bodily defense in the case of potential predators, and a weapon in a cinch.

They would grow back, yes... but never overnight. It was an unnoticeable growth, new quills replacing old ones seamlessly with time.

So as awful as it was, Shadow did his best to take it slowly whenever given the task of blunting a slave's spines. Especially with Sonic designated as a pleasure slave, keeping his aesthetic and general prettiness that would usually play a huge part in getting such a role was of utmost importance. He would dull them, shorten them only a little bit... if Sonic played nice.

"It won't hurt if you stay still. And if you try to run, I will drain your energy dry and do it with your unconscious body, so I recommend you cooperate.”

Sonic’s indignant yelp was involuntary at the snap, the forceful rearranging of energy into — surprise, surprise — more restraints. His hands came up automatically to tug at the immaterial collar, but there was nothing he could tug loose, twisting his head. He should’ve seen that one coming…If Shadow had noticed Sonic go a little pale at the mention of his pelt, he thankfully didn’t dwell on it out loud.

The entire walk (or rather, drag) to the next room was a fight. Sonic didn’t try to reason with this insane new captor of his; clearly these people were not of sound mind. His resentment was however angled primarily at a certain insufferable, feathered Prince, who surely would have been the one to order this treatment. Said resentment manifested in digging his heels sharply into smooth stone floor, really achieving little else besides getting yanked forward intermittently and generally causing a ruckus in the otherwise silent halls. It was like trying to teach a wild horse how to show walk like a pony. You simply couldn’t.

This next room was more cause for dread than the restraints had been, or even that stupid riding crop the Captain had seen fit to apply to certain areas on his person, promptly before Sonic had snapped the instrument clean in half between his teeth. His split lip reminded him of that little victory over the other man.

But this place was not somewhere he could simply get away from by making a break for it, and Shadow did not appear at all like he could be provoked into a blunder. Two of Sonic’s most tried and true methods of escape, dashed.

The fight had abruptly left him, not out of obedience, or even fear, but a freeze instinct to not go near that table. His spines, blunted…This could not be happening.

The idea was beyond mortification. It wasn’t even simply a pride thing. If — when — he did finally escape, he would be almost entirely defenseless. His spines were his only reliable weapon and protection, the final layer between him and the rest of the world should his legs fail him for any reason. It would be laughably easy to do anything to him without the risk of getting a hand cut off.

He almost preferred death, to that.

Almost.

He swallowed audibly and wide green eyes flitted from the…restraints on the stone table back to Shadow, meeting his gaze. He didn’t plead, exactly, because no words left him. He seemed unwilling to say much at all except in defiance. But his eyes were clearly communicating the quiet begging clear enough. Don’t do this to me. Not that he thought it would work.

He was no longer throwing his weight against the inhibitor, at least. He wasn’t sure if he preferred maybe being unconscious or not, and decided very quickly to rule that as a choice out. No. If given the choice, he would never choose to be caught unaware. No matter what happened, whatever this twisted place decided to do, he couldn’t allow it to happen without him at least being present.

“I…” He seemed like he tried to say something, but he stopped, because he didn’t know what he would’ve said anyway. There were no words that would get him out of this situation. Begging wouldn’t do anything for him, and besides which was so far beneath him he didn’t even consider that course of action.

”The bravest fighter counts for nothing when they’re dead.” He reminded himself of those words.

Looking away from the other hedgehog, he didn’t submit himself necessarily, but he had at least decided not to be killed for his efforts. A muscle slid in his jaw, ears folded back stubbornly in a dogged refusal to acknowledge Shadow’s words verbally.

"...Good." Shadow wasn't a man of many words himself, nodding towards the table for Sonic to sit upon. "I won't have to restrain you if you come easy. If it's any condolence, I don't take pleasure in this either, and the damage done will be minimal if you get up there yourself."

If it was just because Shadow had taken every possible short-term hope away that he backed Sonic into a corner with this, then perhaps that would set the status-quo for the rest of his training. Then he would see it wasn't all so bad, and start to become willing. Then real rewards could be introduced, when his natural behaviors were agreeable.

The leash in Shadow's hands vanished as he walked towards the wall of tools, selecting a small pair of clippers that would be able to adequately do the job. They were clean, simple things— one end to take the sharp tip of a quill and blunt it via removal.

Perhaps taming this 'Blue Phantom' wouldn't be as bad as he was expecting... but he would have to stay alert, in case he tried to pull something again. But on the other side...

He's young. He's probably scared, and unfamiliar with how the kingdom handles things other than with brutality. It was so easy to make the resistance sound good on paper..

"You won't get in trouble for conversation." In fact, sociability was highly sought in some bed slaves. Jet had his moods, but he needed someone able to listen and hold up talking about himself, even minimally. Another thing Sonic was lucky for... Shadow had done work for a few of Jet's neighboring kingdoms on recommendation, and he had to deal with royals who liked their bed toys silent.

Shaking his head clear of dark thoughts, he turned his attention back to Sonic.

"Where do you originally hail from? If you remember, that is. I have a feeling you've been on the run for most of your life, correct?" The kingdom of Moebius, perhaps? They had a king there that superficially resembled the hedgehog, himself…

Perhaps fully within Shadow’s realm of expectation, he got no verbal answer from the hedgehog. Sonic gave him a wary stare, but his eyes glued themselves once more to the stone table — until the clippers were brought into view.

Ears dropping slightly, he actually did take a step back this time. He balked at the stone table, shaking his head imperceptibly.

He glanced behind him again and quickly back to Shadow, but it was as he’d already known— He was locked in here, and Shadow held the key. Most confusing of all…why was he trying to talk to him? What was he trying to gain by feigning niceties?

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t sit obediently and let himself be blunted in this way. Sonic’s hand went up reflexively to touch his own neck, no restraining energy there, siphoning away his strength. Like a lead weight dropping in the pit of his stomach, his hazy, pain-addled memories of the aftermath of being caught by Shadow had come back to him during the journey here, and now it fully dawned on him their purpose in coming here.

I want him in my bed. Those words, spoken by that noxious Prince Jet, when he’d been in such a stupor he hadn’t fully comprehended what was being said. They’d spoken like he wasn’t even there…like he was just a thing.

It was cruel, how the impulsive whims of a single, spoiled prince could change his fate forever. It wasn’t fair.

“I don’t know,” he said in reply, which while clearly distracted, had been honest enough. His body tensed, those defiant quills flexing. The new awareness of his rapid change in situation making panic spike his pulse. He reacted outward, turning the questioning on his captor. Very consciously he removed his hand from his neck, trying not to draw attention to the motion.

“Who are you? What are you that you were able to catch me?”

Shadow could tell he was getting nervous, rightfully so. Perhaps he would have to restrain him anyways..

"I believe I already introduced myself to you. And according to your own words, I'm but the magician lackey of the prince, I suppose."

Shadow smirked, if only in amusement at his own wisecrack. There was a dark gleam in his eyes as he approached Sonic, stepping towards him a bit too calmly.

"But you will call me your master, from now on. So I'm not going to ask you again."

If he had to, he'd come up behind Sonic as he stood and do it. It was natural to be curious, but Shadow already wanted it to be over for himself. He wasn't afraid of being attacked by any means, there was no way out of here but by his lead.

"Sit."

He commanded Sonic like a feral dog, his tone practiced and powerful. The process in itself would take a minute or two tops, and he still needed to give him a physical to check his data and health. And it would be improper to measure his quills for his official documents pre-blunting, not to mention unprofessional. And then he would need to draw up a bath, and depending on Sonic's wariness to wearing things of ownership, a collar of some sort would be fitted, or an ear tag.. at worst, a branding. But hopefully by then Sonic would come to his senses of self preservation.

Even if Jet allowed him the grace of no time limit on his results, he still needed progress to make said results. And he was not going to waste his time with getting them, either.

What stung most of all was how…convincing that order was. His entire attitude commanded the kind of respect and obedience Sonic had felt the crown prince himself lacked, perhaps a simple gap in experience, or perhaps the prince did not have a penchant for enjoying the hard work part of bringing people under his heel. He’d already guessed, but by now it was clear he was not dealing with any sort of opponent he’d known until now.

Shadow was practiced at what he did; and what he did was break people. 

His pride revolted at that order, unable to fully keep the look off his face. He had nowhere further he could step back to, except into the wall, but that didn’t stop his eyes from glancing around, seeing where he could go, what he could use. 

If he could just be fast enough, get at one of those tools before Shadow worked his magic, he could have a weapon, something to use against him. Even if he only subdued Shadow for a moment, seconds would be all he’d need to grab the key and run. 

It was probably the glance behind Shadow’s back that gave him away, to the wall where many tools hung. Even though it was a reckless gambit, it was all he could think to do. Shadow was hesitant to kill or severely maim…that much was obvious. Whether it was his own personal rule or he’d been ordered by the prince not to damage him too much, it gave him a slight opportunity.

In fact, so far the hedgehog hadn’t actually laid a single hand on him, or truly hurt him — not counting the fall from his escape attempt, made painful by his own hurdling momentum. That didn’t mean Shadow was going to be merciful on him, and he wasn’t deluded enough by hope to think so. 

To his credit, hungry and low on energy as he was, he’d moved just as fast as usual out of pure desperation— approximately five feet behind Shadow before he’d felt it. It was instantaneous; collapsing onto both knees on the hard stone floor with a jarring impact that clacked his teeth together painfully, gasping like he’d been hit. He hadn’t been touched.

Surprise. What else did you expect? 

Shadow did not drain him, but simply restrained him there, Sonic half kneeling, one hand coming up to grip the edge of the stone table. His entire body trembled with the effort, trying to pull himself up. Swearing to himself, he looked up to see the trainer, looking entirely unfazed by an attempt on his health and exuding very little effort in subduing him so completely. 

“No,” he groaned, the protest sliding out against his will, gritting sharp teeth and pinning his ears. You can’t do this!

Except…he could. And he only needed one prince’s permission to do it. 

Struggling briefly, it was clear he would wear himself out dry if he continued, and very carefully forced himself not to. Breathing hard, his ears and quills drooped from the drop in control over his body, and he hated that this particular hedgehog had to see it happen.

"Come," Was Shadow's next command, unafraid as he briefly knelt to pick Sonic's sapped body up from his sides, hoisting him up over the cold smooth stone and lying him belly down. Walking over to each of the restraints on the table, he cuffed Sonic's ankles and wrists so he was spread out, sighing as he went for Sonic's top head quill with the shears. 

Clip. Clip. 

Two movements of his wrist, and sharp edges fell to the table around the body they were once attached to. The first merely blunted the quill Shadow was carefully grasping, the second clip shaped it back to a proper tip for aesthetics. 

"I know.." Shadow murmured as he continued his work, as if he was clipping thorns off roses. "It'll be over soon," were the only words of comfort he offered as he gently held Sonic's head, clipping his two back quills when it groggily shifted from side to side.

Nothing hurt but his pride. Not yet, at least. His hand ghosted over the small dip of Sonic's back, briefly closing his palm around a stiffened blue tail as he pulled his hand through.

Shadow had originally suggested making Sonic a messenger, but he couldn't deny that he would make a very pretty toy.

Clipping the last quill on Sonic's head, Shadow reached to the wall for another instrument-- a large, coarse file. He held it in front of Sonic's wary gaze, flipping it around to show what it was capable of. 

"We can be done now, or if you would like, I can polish off what I had to take away from you. Your quills aren't sharp now, but I can make it less noticable. They'd be dull but pokey, at best. Yes or no?"

The stone table chilled Sonic’s body where he was laid, ending up right in the humiliating position he’d been determined to avoid. So much for his pride. 

Properly restrained, his own energy was no longer used against him, and beyond the first reflexive instinct to tug at them, he had little other choice than to simply lie down and bear it. 

When flexing his spines didn’t work, every instinctual urge proving only to work against him currently, he flattened himself instead, ears and quills drooping low, Sonic’s face scrunching up in displeasure.

The sensation was…negligible. Shadow didn’t pull or tug or twist at them, not even when he got to the many little stray quills that got just as quickly snipped down. It hurt nothing except for his pride, and the sound set his teeth on edge. 

Finally, when the clipping came to a stop, he forced his eyes open, having squeezed them shut during the ordeal. When he seemed to realize he wasn’t going to be hurt, green eyes flicked with uncertainty from the new tool to Shadow’s face, and back again. The question struck him as funny— that he was given a choice in this forced procedure might as well have been a slap. 

But it was still something. Miserably, his gaze shifted away, landing somewhere in the corner and he replied with the tiniest of nods. He could at least not look humiliated, even if he felt it. 

Aesthetics…that’s what his body was intended to be good for, now. Not at all what it was meant to be— a tool of his own right, primed for defense. The worst part was already done, so he might as well cling to what little allowance he was being offered. 

He hated the gentle hand on his head, between his ears, the care with which the trainer slid it over his body while he worked. He felt rather like some prized racing dog or show horse, and he resisted that gentleness more than he would’ve resisted violence.

Stretched out as he was, and with no way to hide, his body was less hidden by his mess of quills than it had been previously at this viewpoint. Now Shadow could count ribs, which expanded and contracted a little quickly every now and then. Too thin for a royal pleasure slave. But not weakened— muscle rippled under the dusty blue coat in the moments his body underwent resistance, which was frequent. 

By the end, he’d gone flat again and yielding, at least having the wherewithal to not try and thrash about while his quills were being tended to. It was the first true moment of subdued resignation, ears occasionally twitching erratically when the sound of the file started up again, but this treatment he was more accepting of than the blunting, at the very least.

"Good boy." Shadow accepted the meek nod, naturally praising him for complying. As he worked on shaping the quills back from suddenly snipped edges to rounded but unharmful points, Shadow made a mental note to make sure denial of food wasn't a punishment for him. Not until he could afford to be potentially starved, not that his new slave wasn't used to skipping meals, most likely. In fact, maybe a prescribed diet would be acceptable... 

Not one to mind silence, Shadow broke it anyways.

"The one thing you can look forward to is that the food is good here." A hand trailed up those ribs, counting the bones with every bump. "We can get you a proper meal after a bath, yes?" 

Eventually Shadow had filed the last quill, Sonic looking not much different than before-- just shorter, with less strays sticking out of place. He undid the cuffs, giving a small rub to where each link held him down as if to soothe the skin underneath, allowing Sonic to sit up as he swept up the cut off remains to one side of the floor. 

"Come with me.” And the leash was around Sonic's neck again, the two hedgehogs leaving this room for the next. 

It was rather dreary, a lone drain in the middle of the room as smooth stone was the entirety of material making up the walls, floor, even up to the ceiling. A large washtub stood close to the drain, a few buckets and pails hanging off hooks and a faucet. 

It wouldn't have to be like this every time. Once Sonic was cleared to go above ground, arrangements like baths and the like would be rather lavish, usually sharing the same space as the prince or even the hot springs they had, tiled pools and space to relax. 

But for now.. this was it. Shadow took off his gloves to set them aside, waiting for Sonic to follow his lead.

Pitifully, not long after the mention of food, the rebellious hedgehog’s stomach complained audibly, growling. He winced as it happened, as if he were to be ashamed of letting on that he was hungry — not that it was something he could possibly have any control over. 

Sonic was quick to sit up from the table, running his hands over his own ungloved wrists. Those, dirtied and torn, had been taken from him, but his shoes he’d been allowed to keep. So far. The skin was only a little irritated, but not terribly, the restraints having been mercifully padded. 

He was slower to follow, lacking any and all enthusiasm, but he seemed to be experiencing a bit of a stupor after the blunting. Noticeably dispirited in a way the beatings and the confinement had not elicited, Shadow experienced a token moment of resistance before the hedgehog followed. He did secretly look forward to food, but getting bathed didn’t dawn on him until they reached the dungeon wash room. 

He froze at the entrance, eyes going a little wide. He looked between the tub and the trainer, and briefly cursed his consideration of even trying to flee again. This time, for entirely different reasons. 

“Can I…” He hesitated. He hated that he had to even ask this. Eyeing Shadow’s bared hands, he swallowed and tried speaking again, apparently finding words difficult when he wasn’t insulting royalty or telling guardsmen to go fuck themselves on their own riding crops. 

“Can I wash myself?”

Shadow was already filling buckets to fill the tub, warming the pails with a small flame in the palm of his hand so it wouldn't be absolutely ice cold. When he turned back to look at Sonic, though.. a new kind of fear was behind his eyes, and his body language had considerably frozen up.

Irrational. Like a child who didn't understand something wouldn't hurt them, yet. 

...But even this, he could turn into a lesson. 

"..Ask me again, properly, and I'll consider it," Shadow said as he dumped the first couple buckets into the larger tub, continuing his work as he waited for a response. 

Of course, he'd still have to take a hand in making sure Sonic was ready and prepared-- so he wouldn't be washing alone, despite the odds. But, he'd allow him as much comfort as he could, if he would bend a bit for Shadow. As was the expected dynamic between living property and owner. 

Though this adverseness to bathing was just another thing to note in his documents, he'd have to explore it some.

Agitation flitted over the face, his newfound agreeability apparently not limiting his arsenal of bitchy expressions. Still, there was something there, beyond just pride. He was pale, eyeing the tub distrustfully. 

“I don’t know how to do that,” he said, frustrated. He didn’t know what the hell Shadow wanted from him. Slave speak? As if he would know what that was. “I just…”

Whether it was knowing Shadow could sap his resistance and do whatever he wanted regardless, or whether it was the quill blunting, but between his outburst this morning and now, he’d apparently developed an understanding of circumspection. Instead of going off, like he clearly wanted to, he reined his anger in and considered his next words. 

“Just. Not the tub,” he said, tearing his eyes away from the offensive receptacle and down to the floor, something oddly strapped down in his voice. “Please.”

There it was. His first real plea. It was forced out, carefully with distaste. 

Still dirt and dust-coated as he was, one would think he would be eager for a warm bath, something to soothe the aches and pains and feel clean again. Perhaps he’d grown accustomed to never going a day without experiencing a thin coat of sand all over — surely the debris dulling that brilliant blue from what it could be — but there was none of that desire to do so. 

Warily, unsure of the correct words, unsure if Shadow would even be responsive to it, he glanced up at him again.

Shadow's expression fell flat as Sonic seemed to be going through some sort of internal struggle, denying his given instruction in feigned ignorance. It wasn't that hard, and Shadow had told him twice already on how to address him. 

From their first meeting, Shadow figured Sonic would've appreciated less hand-holding, less strict domestication. But he apparently needed it, if his brain was of no help to him or his survival in this new place. 

"Please, what?" Shadow practically led him to the next step in his sentence, that commanding tone he used to order him to sit peaking through his sternness.

When you are asking something, who are you asking it to? Who has the power to grant your requests? Power over you? 

He paused in his action to let Sonic respond. This was a make or break moment for his humility, and what Shadow would do from there. Part of him wanted to drag his body to the tub anyways, find out more about what fueled this scared behavior and how he could utilize it.

Ironic that a legend based in the desert would have a dislike towards water... it was interesting, and Shadow wanted to analyze it under a glass and pick him apart because of it. 

It would be better though if Sonic would let him, after some allotted time, though. So there he was, with another choice.

Shadow could see, could feel the awful frustration mounting in his new captive, those blunted spines raising a little, green eyes like cut glass shooting up to look at him. Although he’d been subdued, his whole attitude still had a weary readiness that told Shadow to remain careful, despite his undoubtedly temporary obedience. His eyes said, for now. 

Swallowing down what likely would have been a very colorful protest, the hedgehog did not look at Shadow when he replied, resigned. 

“…Can I please wash myself,” he asked, “Sir.” 

It was not ‘Master,’ but it was one of his two given options. Clearly, he’d chosen the one that sounded just a little less servile. Even that much was a huge concession, Sonic clearly resenting himself for even saying it. What he resented even more than saying the words was the way he automatically glanced up to look for approval or displeasure on the trainer’s face.

And there in fact, was a small nod of approval, a hum of pleased acknowledgement Shadow gave Sonic.

 "..You may. But I will need to make sure your cleanliness is up to standards myself." It was a start. 

Beckoning Sonic over with another quick tilt of his head, Shadow picked up another bucket— this one holding bars of soap, bottles of oil and the like. "Come, then. I can tell water might not be your element, so let's get it over with." 

See? It's not so hard. Shadow made quick work of cleaning over that blue fur, the color gaining back a true shine to it now that the dust and grime matting it down were being washed away by the warm water, even more so when Shadow rubbed up a bar of lather between his hands to cascade and rub over the spines he had just blunted. 

He had silently handed the bar to Sonic to take for himself, holding true to his word that he would let Sonic wash himself. But he was there to be sure to take care of any blemishes or spots he might've missed, especially at such a fast pace. 

"Asides from privacy," Shadow rolled his eyes — he wasn't going to get much of that anymore when it came to his body — "Is there a reason you don't like this? Most slaves that come here end up relieved to have clean water."

There was a definite minute where Sonic clearly balked at being scrubbed down, like he was some kind of incapable animal. He tensed and pulled away at times, but didn’t try to run, even if he acted miserable as water was dumped over him.

In response to Shadow’s questioning, Sonic said nothing, but he shook himself, even that movement Sonic-fast and flinging soapy water everywhere. It made his fur and quills disarrayed, but he actually seemed a little pleased when he got to step away and tend to himself. 

He didn’t want to give this hedgehog any reason to use this against him. Even if it was…silly. The lathered soap was actually quite nice, not something he’d had in who knew how long, and never this nice smelling, or luxurious as it thickened his short fur with suds. He consciously sidestepped away a little further. 

He wasn't self-conscious about the bathing itself, or the fact he was completely bare in front of another person. Having this bizarre hangup brought up, however, brought him up short when he reached down to cup a little warm water in his hands, frowning down at it briefly. 

He threw a look over at Shadow, and used his cupped hands to bring the water to his body and wash off the suds. It was a much slower process than if he were actually in the tub, but he appeared to not be at all tempted to do so. 

“I’m not against bathing, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he said, a little tartly, closing his eyes briefly as he splashed warm water over his face and scrubbed at it, and then took his time on his ears, shaking them after.

"No," Shadow shrugged, filling another bucket to heat as each time he approached Sonic he made sure to glance him over to make sure he was cleaning himself to a better standard. "I know what fear looks like. You seemed a lot more scared walking into here than you did in the previous room." He referenced back his observations of Sonic's behavior during the blunting process. It wasn't just an unwillingness to submit, or the unknown certainty of harm coming to him. 

But here, there was a second of fragility he had caught when Sonic had caught on. The way he asked to wash himself, to not be in control of this in particular. 

"Besides, the more I know about you, the more I can help. It's part of my duties to keep a tab on you personally, things you like, things to avoid... I do not want to stress you out any more than what's required. Especially if anyone else comes to aid me in your training. Not everyone treats your kind as living beings." 

Shadow ran another trail of lather around Sonic's lower back, claws trailing over the skin and digging out the dirt underneath. There was nothing intended behind the touch, the hand gone as quick as it came as he dumped another bucket down Sonic's body. 

"I'm not just here to discipline you. I'm your trainer, yes, but also your master." He might've been a bit too close over Sonic's ear, another clawed thumb massaging up behind his shoulder blade and untensing the knot in the muscle.

"I plan to take care of you, as well. That includes avoiding causing you discomfort when I can." Building a trust relationship you go to on instinct, he noted silently. "And spoiling you, if it calls for it." 

Some of the partial reason slave training took an appeal to Shadow was the nurture versus nature aspect, being in charge of protecting and nourishing something incredibly rewarding to him. Some people found that in gardening, others had common pets like chao to scratch that urge.

Shadow found it here. He enjoyed the power, enjoyed the challenge. It was watching his hard work pay off in real time with every conversation, every interaction. The notable ways he would garner a respectable reputation with the slaves around the kingdom, and the ability to give them a master who was strict with his rod, but was to be respected via the way he chose to use it.

Most trainers that took 'breaking in' slaves with a literal sense became confused on how brunt force was shortening life spans, basically killing off the entire point of a servant. 

Loyal company who cared of their own volition. That was how you got a good slave.

Or else be at risk for mutiny, or death on either side.

Sonic’s skin jumped when Shadow touched him, making a muffled sound when more water was dumped over him. Not liking the feeling of being drenched, he shook himself again, ears flat sideways as water dripped from their tips. 

Soaking wet, his fur clung even more to his body, accentuating the too-prominent rib cage, and his fur spiked up randomly where it was too short to lay down well. Yet at the same time, the soap was really doing wonders to bring out a new luster in his coat, not that Sonic seemed to care much about that. 

He didn’t seem to know how to take Shadow’s words. He was listening, even as he bathed wordlessly during. His lips pressed together, not happy at having his one and only irrational fear pinpointed, and Shadow could feel that displeasure rolling off him in tangible waves. To avoid answering right away, Sonic lathered the lower half of his body, washing off the phantom touch of the bastard captain, who’d waited until he was restrained, pulled out his riding crop and dragged it— 

He scrubbed between his legs briefly with a sudden vigor, not lingering as he tucked his tail down and worked on his legs. At least he’ll think twice before using that again. Next time I see him… 

Sonic righted himself once more, staring down at the nearby bucket of water, his voice oddly strained when he spoke again. 

“I don’t need to be taken care of,” he said. It wasn’t petulant, exactly, but stated simply as he stepped away and crouched down, pouring water over his pelvic area and legs, tail flicking. 

But if Shadow was being true to his word, really only wanted to help him…Well, as hard to believe as he found that sentiment, it was at least true that the only reason Shadow was doing this at all was because Prince Jet had ordered it done. 

Yeah, and Shadow chose this profession, he reminded himself, giving another full-bodied shake that rid his fur of excess water. It was also true that Shadow had not forced him into the tub, regardless of his plea, like he’d expected. Like surely anyone else might have. He eyed Shadow from a few paces away before his gaze fell away.

Play along for now. Until I can finally get out of here…no need to get yourself killed, or punished for no reason.

This would be a waiting game. Sonic had escaped captivity before (granted he’d never been held longer than a few minutes at any given time), he could do it again. But this time he couldn’t rely on just his speed and strength; he had to navigate the Babylon Court, and every social minefield it came with. 

“…I don’t like water, okay,” he conceded. He made a vague motion with his hand, as if to wave it away, and turned away, too vulnerable already to let Shadow see his face as he busied himself picking through the bucket of oils and soaps, none of which he planned on using. “Not something I have to deal with every day in the desert. I would rather not…have to wade into my bath.” 

He didn’t mention that were someone to take him out in deep water and drop him there— he’d drown. On solid ground, nothing touched him. But water did not obey nor care about his abilities. It would swallow him up just the same, and his first experience with that feeling had left him freezing up near any body of water, big or small. 

All of this went unsaid. He just hoped Shadow wasn’t deceiving him and jotting it down to be used as torture against him later. Or, god forbid, he tell the prince. He really would be dropped into a river and left to die, then. 

That was why despite the parched heat of the desert, despite the gritty feel of sand dusting his coat, he’d grown accustomed to these minor discomforts without fuss. He did not revel in the same relief of finding a pond or a river to drench himself in to relieve the heat. He would drink, and not step foot inside. 

After a brief stretch of silence, he made a sound of dry amusement, not quite a laugh.

“And I find it hard to believe the person making me into a slave actually cares for what I do and don’t like.”

Shadow was rather pleased at the confirmation of his suspected fear of water, he would have to take special care of that going onwards. Now that he actually got Sonic talking, he didn't want to stop. 

"A valid point. Most don't." He shrugged, satisfied with Sonic's work of cleansing himself. He picked up a towel from a nearby hook to dry himself off, looking inside another bucket that had a variety of old brushes and combs.

"I do. I'm sure you've seen it's not a very popular opinion, but I believe even if slaves are property, they're still people. That's what makes them desirable, is it not?" 

He handed another towel to Sonic for him to dry with, waiting until he was damp enough to approach him with the brush, extra loose fur gathering between the bristles as he smoothed out the patchy bits and the tufts that stuck every which way. It was a gentle movement, and Shadow seemed very honed in on his work as he did so. 

"Do you have a favorite food in particular?" He asked innocently. He knew about something Sonic disliked, now he wanted insight on what he enjoyed. "I'd like to reward you for your cooperation, and you need something to eat regardless while I finish the rest of your papers." He paused, then smirked again. "I assure you it won't be drugged or otherwise tampered with."

Sonic wasn’t sure he appreciated the brushing down. Not being a dumb animal, he gave Shadow a faintly acidic look sideways, but tolerated the treatment. Even if it wasn’t unpleasant by any means, he instinctively tried to squirm away from handling. 

It wasn’t only clear to Shadow that he wasn’t used to being touched in a somewhat invasive manner; it was clear Sonic was not used to being touched at all. Even the most inoffensive hand made his skin twitch, and he tensed with an inherent distrust that Shadow suspected applied to anyone and everyone, not exclusive to residents of the loathed Babylon court. 

Regardless of how gentle Shadow’s hands were, or how amiable his conversation, Sonic wouldn’t be taken in by it. His guard was perhaps up even more than it had been before the blunting. It was all he could do, with no means of escape and little to no recourse on how to handle himself in this foreign world of court politeness and slave etiquette. 

A favorite food…good food was luxury enough when you were a rebel, nevermind taking the time to want for a favorite meal. His favorite food was something hot and immediate, right now.

“Not really,” he replied, reluctantly. An idea did occur to him though, hoping for something sustainable, after his only meals for the week had been leftover dry rations and whatever fruit he could steal. Deciding to push his luck with Shadow’s amiable mood, he perked ever so slightly and asked, “Maybe something with meat in it?”

Would he be allowed the luxury of meat as a slave? Even most of the common people struggled to find it for their meals, usually selling their livestock for something more useful than eating. But he would most definitely start to weaken soon if he didn’t eat something substantial, and he wasn’t keen on losing his energy all on his own without Shadow’s weird inhibiting power to aid it. 

To dampen his somewhat rising spirits, Shadow had to mention papers. Like he was a cow, or a piece of imported furniture. 

Well, better to be a cow than to be dead in the dunes, he supposed. He could handle that — for now.

"I think I can arrange that," Shadow said as he finished up his attention on Sonic's fur. He could've been there for hours, collecting balls of blue fluff in the brushes and going back in, but he didn't want to pull out any clumps that might've been hanging on by mere threads either. 

"You've gotten through the worst of it, now. Good job, thank you. I'll have a meal brought down for us and you can eat while I make sure you're in good health, yes? The rest is just simple questions and overview of things, like how heavy and tall you are,” he informed Sonic, glancing briefly back to the door. Part of him wanted to ask if leashing him again was an option he wanted to pass up on... but no, they hadn't gotten there yet. Not quite. 

Finishing up their activities here, Shadow once again was leading Sonic out of the room back to where they started, making a stop by a local guard on duty to pass on the request of food. And then they were at square one, with Shadow arranging out papers on his desk and motioning for Sonic to sit back down on the cot he woke up on.

The leash dematerialized from his hand again as the door locked behind them. 

"So, let's start simple. If I may ask your age and birth date," Shadow gazed over the empty spaces on Sonic's documents, "And then I don't suspect you've been ill with any serious disease? Allergies, anything else vital of note..?" 

Aquaphobia, He filled in one of the spaces. Seems strongest around bodies of water.

Sonic had pulled a face at the leash, the sensation always dragging him down, like his own body being used against him. But hunger outweighed a need to pull any more stunts for now, and he followed. He didn’t walk well, often stopping and requiring a few tugs to get going, that inquisitive gaze landing on anything and everything as he strained to take it in. He did get there eventually, although he didn’t seem pleased to be back in this particular room. 

He didn’t sit on the cot— he instead opted to stand, looking around, unnerved by the multitude of…tools laid out. There were so many things he had never seen before, most of which he wasn’t sure what their function even was. There were the obvious ones; long whips, short riding crops, chained manacles, a particularly nasty-looking in-spiked collar that he hoped he wouldn’t be on the receiving end of, another pair of blunting clips, a spreader bar… Others he wasn’t too sure of, and dreaded the day he would surely be educated on them. 

He glanced down at his feet, which were a little cold against the stone floor, digging his claws in slightly as it struck him that his shoes had been left in the bathing room. Anxiety spiked in him a little, but he pushed it down. Ears flicking at the questioning, he frowned a little, eyeing the papers. 

“I…don’t know,” he said, blankly. It was a blanket answer to all of it. And for once, it wasn’t stubborn petulance— it was true. He hadn’t even known his own parents, and had no living relatives as far back as he could recall. He couldn’t even say where his original place of birth was. Anticipating this wouldn’t be adequate to the trainer, he followed up; “I mean, no, I’ve never been seriously ill, but…I don’t know the other stuff.” 

It was a little embarrassing to confide that he didn’t know his exact age. It…wasn’t something anyone had ever kept track of. When he’d been found, they hadn’t known how long he’d been on his own, and then he’d been passed between so many guardians, age just wasn’t something that mattered. All that had mattered was him being useful at the soonest possible age. 

“I think…” He tried to think back, squinting, recalling what had been loosely passed down to him some years ago. “I think I was first found shortly after the Eastern Civil Conflict, in the aftermath.” 

Not that Sonic had known, but that would have placed him at roughly eighteen to nineteen years, assuming he’d been born during the conflict. Shadow of course was well versed on this history, knew it was a very infamous takeover of what possibly was Sonic’s homeland by Prince Jet’s father, the King. He’d taken the region near the border of Babylon and Mobius with the intention of expanding his own glory, and he’d washed away the bloody history, rewritten it as a successful and largely peaceful conquest. 

Standing there before him however was living proof of otherwise. Uncomfortably, Sonic shifted, looking away. 

“That’s all I know.”

Shadow raised a brow at the minuscule information he was given, but after seeing Sonic think back on it, he figured he was telling the truth. There was nothing in his tone that would've given him away, no family being recalled or anything. 

How interesting. Shadow hadn't grown up with much family either, but he at least had the honor of having an older sister to love him when the parental side of things was rather ugly. She had died some long years back, but. Shadow had that much, when he was younger.

This hedgehog.. didn't have anything. The Blue Phantom was an ally to the rising resistance, but now it turned out he didn't even have any ties to keep him there. 

Putting down his best guesses for what he needed to know (even though he hated leaving spaces filled out with 'unknown'), Shadow continued his overview. 

"Okay. And just because it pertains to you in particular and the role you've been so graciously assigned—" There was sarcasm laced in his tone, something he thought might click with the hedgehog sitting across from him. "I'm guessing you're virginal? Or perhaps some townsfolk were so grateful with what the Blue Phantom did for them, they might've offered themselves up in reward?"

It was an obvious tease, Shadow licking the tip of his gloved thumb as he flipped a page over to its backside. 

He could've guessed from his background what the answer was likely to be, but oh... schematics and all that. He would be thorough in his work, as always. 

"Even if you've never had a partner before, have you been sexually active?" Whether it was verbally informative or hands-on lessons, Shadow would have to educate him one way or another.

Initially relieved that Shadow had believed him — he truly couldn’t foresee any good reason to lie about such a thing — that relief quickly dissipated into nothing at the very next question. It was the first time Sonic appeared openly caught off guard, so completely. 

“What?” he blurted, actually taking a step back. Chaos. What was wrong with this place? And why did that even matter? His eyes dropped down to the papers Shadow was filling out, wondering what the hell kind of forms would require that kind of information. He skipped over answering the first question and instead addressed the last, flustered. 

“I. Obviously, yeah,” he said, blinking as he latched onto his answer, quills bristling. He was definitely a little pink in the ears, folding his arms over his chest. “Not that I think it matters. But yes, I have.” 

This line of questioning had taken such a sharp turn that he felt definitively off kilter. Even worse, it brought attention to a new threat in his status that he hadn’t previously felt was real. Now, it laid him out, newly vulnerable. Unnerved, he turned away, the itch to run somewhere strong. He paced, instead. 

“When can I have my shoes back?“ he asked, suddenly.

If Shadow had any surprise to take from that, he didn't show it. Perhaps his joke was a little too close to the mark, then.. that means he would need to give another exam to Sonic before they started his proper training, to make sure he was clean. 

"You'd be surprised how much it matters. You probably haven't heard of many kings dying from sexual diseases, do you? There's a good reason many bed slaves start out virgins, asides from the whole 'taking innocence' thing.." Shadow scribbled down more notes, putting down his pen when Sonic asked for his shoes. 

He hadn't particularly planned on giving them back. They were filthy, for one— falling apart with overuse and time. But secondly;

"There's not much use for clothes when eighty percent of your job is focused inside." It was implied, and Shadow wanted to say more when a knock interrupted them from the door. 

Motioning Sonic to stay put, Shadow accepted the delivery of two plates in his hands, thanking the guard outside and closing the door shut with a light kick. Spiced sausages, with brown bread and a tomato based sauce. He figured that would be a welcoming enough meal, or some sort of comfort food for his new charge. He placed the plates on the desk (away from any important files..), nodding to give Sonic permission to eat. Sitting back down in his chair, Shadow sighed. 

"Though you wouldn't be the first to mention something about wanting to cover up for comfort when you aren't in use. And Jet does use his eyes first when he wants something, so it would probably be doable to give you some things to wear to pretty you up."

Sonic’s ears twitched back with poorly disguised annoyance, having hoped Shadow might be amicable to returning them. If not, he was going to have to find a way to find them on his own… 

He didn’t mention that he needed them to run fast. He could only get to a certain speed and for so long before his feet would burn up, and he almost never removed them for exactly that reason, except when he was cleaning himself. 

Distracted briefly by food, his ears perked up, not at all following Shadow’s order to stay put, coming up alongside him to get a look at what was brought. The scent hit him immediately, stomach hurting from how hungry he was. He could ignore his hunger for a long time…but with food right in front of him, it was all he could focus on, now. With or without permission, he would’ve dove in anyway. He hadn’t had a hot meal in weeks, and nothing this substantial in longer. He went in gracelessly, as if to specifically undo the work of his earlier bath. His first bite was experimental— and then he couldn’t stop. He ate like Shadow might take it away any second. 

He thought that he did have a favorite food, now. 

Sonic paused only long enough to address Shadow’s words, swallowing, and giving the trainer a slightly withering look. He hadn’t requested shoes because he wanted to be pretty. He wanted them because walking barefoot anywhere was out of the question. 

“In use?” he said, flatly. “Chaos.” He didn’t hide his derision. He wasn’t a plow. “I just want my shoes back. I’m not asking for jewelry or fancy new gloves.” 

Turning back to his meal, already half gone, he went back in to finish before Shadow changed his mind, inhaling the sausage first. With the biggest part of the meal now happily in his belly, he nibbled at the bread, liking the spicy sauce that came with it.

He wasn't surprised at the manner Sonic ate, Shadow knew that being on the run probably did some things to food security for him.. but he really had his work cut out for him with this one... 

Doing his best to suppress another sigh, he merely took up the bread on his own plate, breaking a piece off with his fingers into a sizable piece before eating. 

"I'm sorry to say that the dirt stained pieces of fabric you came in here wearing won't be returned to you." If you could even really call them shoes, anymore. "But if it's your feet you're insecure about, something more along the lines of what you could get are stockings, perhaps sandals.." He moved a finger under his chin, as if already flipping through a catalog in his mind. 

"Your activities are focused on the recreational, the pleasureful. You are not a kitchen servant or even a field worker," Shadow felt like he was talking to a child with the way he had to explain these things. He's not even a messenger like I had suggested, hmph.

"But if you were to take up something like dancing, I'm sure there's a type of 'real shoe' I could get for you. If you've earned it." 

He didn't mention the part where that in itself would take much longer in the ever growing checklist of things Sonic would have to master first in his primary role before taking on other hobbies for the prince's enjoyment. Just a little dangle of a carrot on a stick, potential motivation to get through what he had to and succeed. 

Twirling his finger in the air, the inhibitor around Sonic's neck evaporated, Shadow doing so while he was busy finishing off his food. He wouldn't mention that, either... just as a small test to see how long he could go without noticing, or if he would be compliant enough without Shadow having to cap him. 

"Feeling better?" Shadow asked him. There were only a few more things to do before he could leave Sonic to the slave chambers to get settled in. "What do you say..?" He prompted gently.

Sonic did feel the change in his energy flow, pausing briefly after a minute when he realized. Carefully, he didn’t draw attention to it, and polished off the last of his food. 

His mood had, somehow after getting blunted and bathed, declined even further when he realized he wouldn’t even be given the courtesy of something as basic as shoes. Surely whatever they allowed him wouldn’t stand up to the kind of use he needed. 

He shot a frown at his keeper, shoving away the plate and stepping away from the desk, resuming his pacing from before. Forget his shoes; he’d run his feet raw before he opted to stay here. At his first chance, he was out of here. 

…But that meant cooperating so he could leave this dungeon. He had no shot at freedom if he was chained down here every day. He had to make it to the surface, first. Reluctantly, something somehow more concerning than his captivity nagged at him, and he crossed his arms self consciously, his dulled spines in a constant state of agitated tension.

 “…Do I…” He cut himself off, uncomfortable bringing any attention whatsoever to the topic, but it couldn’t be avoided. “Is there really nothing else I could do?” He paused in his pacing, unease flickering in his gaze. “This is really what the Prince wants? I…I could be useful in other ways.” 

Anything short of pleasure slave— I’ll do it. 

In reality, it shouldn’t have been more damning than being any other kind of slave. But this type of forced submission lent itself to an entirely new arena of indignity that Sonic had never in his life considered would be a possibility. He could handle any kind of violence they had for him, but this…degradation for the sake of degradation. It was the worst possible outcome, and it had come at him sideways. He’d expected a flogging, and then possibly an execution attempt. 

He had no blueprint for how to navigate this kind of captivity, or how to stay sane during it. 

And making this worse was Shadow, his new keeper, was not bending him over in ropes and chains and ordering him to be used by half the guardsmen to ‘break him in.’ He was gentle, and considerate (as well as he could be, he supposed), and had not even suggested this fate for him upon his capture. It would’ve been easier that way. He could’ve dissociated from his situation, endured pain that would just be the same as any other pain he was accustomed to. He could have festered his hatred and anger for Shadow until he could escape, and enact a little revenge on his way out. What the hell was he supposed to do with this logical trainer, coaxing and reasoned? 

Setting his jaw, he pushed down the weakness in him that had prompted that question in the first place, and let his resentment of the arrogant Crown Prince grow steadily instead.

Shadow ignored the questions Sonic had for him, not having been answered first. 

"I said, what do you say?" Shadow wasn't holding a riding crop, but he might as well have been with how he was staring Sonic down. "It does not matter what it is, when you are given something, or the permission to do something, you always thank your master. So," Shadow held his chin up with woven fingers, leaning forward expectantly. "What do you say?" 

There was no talking out of this. Shadow was patient, amazingly lenient even, but they were still on different ends of the leash-- quite literally. 

Even if a transfer was possible, which it wasn't, Sonic would be getting absolutely nowhere without basic conversational manners. Slaves considered in the best positions were pleasure slaves, typically, due to the closeness of the royalty they accompanied and pampered lifestyle compared to one who worked day and night in the gardens or scrubbing floors. But dignity and regard towards the ones in charge remained the same between all of them. 

And painstakingly, it was Shadow's job to keep it all in line. From actions, to etiquette, to the sparing glances and everything between. Though, there was something fulfilling about catching Sonic off guard, the brief moment of disbelief he gave Shadow, a culture shock to everything he knew. That was okay. He'd rewrite that.

Sonic had initially not listened, and so he took a moment before he realized what Shadow was prompting him for. His lips parted in a little ‘o’ of realization, the self-conscious agitation melting away somewhat as he sighed, shoulders dropping a little.

“Oh,” he said.

Of course. Sonic wasn’t totally lost on basic mannerisms. He’d always thanked people for food. He just typically didn’t have other things occupying his mind.

“Thank you, for the food.” There was a brief stretch of silence, and all it took was a slight raise of Shadow’s brows at him before he sighed again. “…Sir,” he added, with a noticeable dip in his tone of gratitude. 

He gave Shadow an expression of expectation, as if to ask, ’Well? Is that good enough?’ He only just resisted saying it out loud, but he said it with his entire body, instead. He was grateful for food — really, really good food, at that — but it wasn’t lost on him that he rather felt more like a pet that required feeding than a person receiving a meal.

Sonic realized he was going to have to seriously work on his deferential act if he was going to get anywhere, dropping his arms and letting his gaze fall away, because it naturally had a challenging edge whether he realized it or not. 

“It was good. You…asked if I had a favorite, before. I think that might be it.”

The corners of Shadow's mouth twitched up in satisfaction, the motion so light it could've been missed. That alone was proof Sonic could improve as a slave. The lack of eye contact afterwards was a nice touch. 

"Oh?" He mused, apparently his guess for a choice of first meal was right on the mark. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind," Shadow said, quickly writing down an extra note on one of the stacked papers as if to make a point of it. And all on top of that, he pushed his own cooling plate with the sausage Shadow hadn't touched himself in front of Sonic. 

"You can have that, if you want. I'm not a 'large meal' person myself." He offered, moving topics quick. "I assume you would prefer a collar, though you don't have to wear one. Your other options are a tag or tattoo, as it stands currently." 

They didn't often tattoo slaves or worse— brand them, unless they were a repeat runaway or if volunteered. Not to mention a collar was customizable as an accessory, the only downside being that some royals didn't like the placement around the neck or even wrists... sensitive places some found important.

One of Sonic’s ears turned toward the slide of the plate before his gaze followed, glancing at it with some hesitation. Just a moment’s hesitation. And then he decided to take the offered food after all, hungry enough to finish off almost an entire second helping of the meal. He licked at the spicy sauce on his fingers — Shadow took note that under his gloves, the little claws appeared slightly overgrown — and pulled a face at his ‘options.’

Any permanent mark was most certainly out of the question. To think of being reminded for the rest of his life of this awful captivity made his stomach roil. 

“Uh,” he said, awkwardly. “Definitely the collar.” Now full, and heavily satisfied, he pushed Shadow’s plate away from himself, and gave him a wary look. “Who exactly are you, that you end up here, training people to be slaves of all things?” That inquisitive gaze was flicking everywhere, looking for that bizarre jewel he’d seen Shadow use. Whatever it was, it had allowed him to move just as fast as him. No, not just that— faster than him. “I mean…wouldn’t you have more useful things to do with the kind of power you have?” 

There he went again. It seemed his good behavior couldn’t go for more than a few minutes at a time without some very un-slavelike insolence rising back to the surface.

Shadow debated on ignoring the questions again, but he had a sense that they wouldn't quit until at least a little bit of that curiosity Sonic had was sated. So, he indulged him.

"My family had business with the kingdom here when I was younger. Someone I knew..." Shadow drifted briefly, "..she taught me how others should be treated. And I simply saw that the way the world handled slaves was unjustified. But some are content with their masters, and it would be unfair to rid the system as a whole to the owners who actually care." Shadow could name a few, even more recent pairs he had trained for coming to his mind's eye. 

"So I decided I'd like to do something about it. I proved myself capable of providing fruitful and faithful servants for royalty, using methods other than fear and violence. So when I say you are quite lucky to have fallen under none other than my hand, Sonic, I mean it." He opened a narrow drawer underneath the desk, rummaging briefly around for something as he continued, "I don't just train slaves, but rather their masters learn by my example on how to treat their property. Does that make sense? Hand, please." He held out his hand expectantly, a small pair of clippers in his other. 

A glorified relationship counselor, then. Perhaps with a warped sense of morality, but Shadow had made it his life's work, to give whomever he could a shot at happiness, master or slave. The only exceptions that didn't take kindly to his work were far and few in between, sick royals drunk on taking out their power on those they believed lesser, or slaves already too far gone from various abuse that they were only alive in the physical sense.

Shadow had chosen to stay in Babylon to help steer a kingdom to stay on the correct path, the prince in particular having a knack for materialism. Which left unchecked could turn ugly, and Jet had been perceptive to Shadow's ideals about having a content kingdom through acting via peace, rather than force. Of course, if force was called for, it was used, but people would point out blood faster than they would a slightly higher tax.

With another sigh, Sonic extended his hand — tried not to feel like a dog responding to ‘give paw’ — and let Shadow clip at his claws, which were admittedly longer than he himself liked. It was at least not so dehumanizing a task. 

He was a little chagrined by Shadow’s answer. He’d expected…He didn’t know what he’d expected. For Shadow to admit he liked feeling superior? He enjoyed training the will out of a person? Or hell, simply because the Prince paid well? It would’ve been easy to scoff and have his own image of Shadow confirmed for the worst. Instead, the answer came obliquely.

Sonic of course still disagreed on an entirely fundamental level — there was no mercy, no true care to be had in slavery, Sonic was certain of that — but he wisely kept these thoughts to himself. 

He fell silent as Shadow worked his claws, mindlessly drawing it back to himself and extending the other without prompt, agreeable to treatments that actually seemed to aid him. He curled his toes against the cold floor and wished for his old shoes back. He could even bear a collar without complaint if he could have that. 

"Thank you," Shadow softly said when Sonic willingly gave his hand to him, the notion not taken for granted. He maintained the natural shape of the claws best he could, his thumb thoughtfully rubbing over the tendons in the back of the recently ungloved hand before it was pulled away. 

Sonic’s silence lasted until the clipping was done, and his hand remained outstretched, palm down after.

“You mentioned…sandals, or something of the sort,” he said, pulling his arm back belatedly. “Can I really not have anything to wear?” There was a beat, and green eyes meeting his, diabolical as he added with charitable believability, “Sir?”

"I can get you new gloves, those are acceptable. Footwear usually doesn't make much sense on a bed, does it now? Hence why bed slaves don't wear such things. But I can get you socks for inside wear and sandals for the rare times you might find yourself outside his chambers if you rather cover up." Shadow suggested, glancing up at Sonic's face for any sort of reaction. 

"Though, please keep in mind... any clothing you do have on you will probably need a wash after your duties, if not taken off first beforehand. And you'll probably only have the one pair, especially when you start out. So you might find yourself without any articles of clothing anyways, but I don't see a reason why to deny you them, as long as it's in good taste." 

That itself might conflict with the recent discovery of Sonic's adverseness to bodies of water if he wanted to keep them clean, but.. that was a bridge to cross later.

"All that's left is to fit you with a collar then, and then I'll bring you to your sleeping quarters down here where I'll be training you until seen fit. You can rest until tomorrow where we'll begin officially on your training. Yes?" Shadow stood back up from his seat, stacking the cleaned plates on his desk and setting them aside.

Despite being a little dampened at the reminder to his new purpose, it was at least good to know that Shadow was open to negotiation, given Sonic abided by his rules. So he tucked that knowledge away and gave a reluctant nod, although it did not go unnoticed that his ears dropped a little sideways in response. 

“Gloves would be nice,” he conceded. Following Shadow with his gaze, he decided to follow him for now, standing to come around, wondering if his sleeping chambers would at least be a little more…comfortable than this room. And hopefully less tools hanging on walls. And preferably no restraints. 

He was halfway into his first day of captivity and already he longed to be outside. Asking if he could get some fresh air seemed pretty fruitless; Shadow had already stressed that he would virtually never leave the palace as a slave. Hell, lucky to leave the Prince’s bed. The idea was maddening. Again, hysteria threatened, but he carefully didn’t dwell on that before his grip on his senses was lost all too early in the game. 

Surely training would be simple? Say ‘sir,’ give paw, don’t threaten the royal bloodline, roll over when asked… 

He could do all of that. He didn’t dwell on the fact he’d have to endure getting fucked by a total stranger, but at least that might not happen for a while. Plenty of time to bide his time and conserve his energy for when he was finally above ground. If he was lucky, his shot would come before he even had to deal with that.

The rest, luckily, was a cinch. Shadow was once again bringing Sonic to various rooms down below, pleased that he was now following him without a lead lest he get lost within the hallways. He had fitted Sonic with a nicely woven collar, light blue in color with the Babylonian kingdom's crest in golden thread on the back where it locked with a key mechanism to prevent unauthorized removal. 

And of course, a small metal loop dangled from the collar for the matching leash Shadow was winding around his hand. For transportation, or other use Sonic would just have to find out about later on. Shadow stowed the key away in his quills, this time leading Sonic out of the room leashed up for the show of it as he brought them to another set of quarters of sorts. 

He'd have to get used to the feeling, anyways. 

To his credit however, Sonic would be relieved to see the odd plainness of the room Shadow had made their final stop. It wasn't quite as dingey as a prison cell, kept clean and the queen sized bed looked moderately comfortable if not misleading for just the use of one slave. (A sizable training space, in Shadow's eyes.) There was a full bodied mirror to the side of the room, and a smaller sized desk that looked similar to the wooden one Shadow had all his work splayed out on. 

No explicit torturing tools lined the walls, so that was a plus.

"I know it's not very homey, but this is where you'll be staying for the majority of our lessons that aren't overall general manners and behaviorisms around the kingdom. You'll be sleeping here as well. And I," Shadow motioned to himself as he unhooked the leash from around Sonic's neck, "will be just around the corner. I have my own room in the palace, but I find myself too invested in my work to go up there very often. So if you need anything, I won't be far." It was a warning as much as an offer. 

So if you try to run, I'll know before you can so much as open the door. 

"Don't worry. I will be taking you above to the palace so you can get a feel for things, learn from some of the other slaves here." Maybe he'll make a friend. Or start a fight. Whatever comes first, Shadow thought to himself, good influences might be ideal to have around.. but he would have to take the risk of Sonic trying to start a revolt from inside that way, too.

Not that he would be going anywhere anytime soon without Shadow's permission.

"Is there anything else you have for me before I leave you tonight?"

Sonic tolerated the collar fitting— but only barely. He’d had to fight not to wriggle away, twisting his head when it was locked into place. He’d immediately felt the desire to buck free and lash out. It wasn’t tight, not enough to choke him, but the feeling of anything enclosed around his neck was excruciating. 

This would take a lot of getting used to. While he couldn’t hide the extreme displeasure rolling off him in waves from Shadow, he at least said nothing, following — and committing every brick, room, and corridor to memory as they went — even if he balked slightly from the tug at the leash to his new collar. This was completely degrading… 

He did slightly perk up at the mention of going above ground and meeting others. He didn’t like being lumped in with the others. The other slaves. Sonic realized he wasn’t sure if he would ever get in the headspace to truly consider himself a slave. In his mind, this was all temporary. 

As if in a daze, he took in his surroundings, the room nicer than he’d expected. And he wouldn’t even be restrained here. Even if Shadow’s subtle, polite threat lingered, ensuring that he’d stay in place. 

Initially when Shadow had unhooked the leash, he’d shaken his body reflexively and stepped away, needing a distance more favorable than the short leash he’d been on. After his examination of the room, he ended up in the middle of it, turning to face Shadow again. 

He felt odd being left alone, now, in this strange place. Shadow felt like his tie keeping him grounded. And immediately— he resented that line of thought. He couldn’t look for guidance in the person working to enslave him. He’d been poked and prodded and violated all day. Blunted and touched and degraded like he’d never been in his life. Even if Shadow had been kind to him through it all, it didn’t change the difference in power when Shadow ordered him to sit.

And, despite his mixed feelings, more than anything else, he just wanted to be left alone. 

Even though his body drooped a little, and his edges had been clipped and polished off, he still only appeared like a groomed version of the wild animal that had been brought in lashed and beaten the day before. 

“No,” he said, and turned away, standing warily by the bed, not getting in while Shadow was still there. “I’m fine.” He would be. He’d always been fine; even when he was alone. He was alone now. He could do this.

Shadow nodded as he let Sonic check out his new chambers like a feral rodent getting used to a new cage. The comparison might not be too far off the mark, now that he thought about it.. 

"Very well. I'll be coming to wake you tomorrow morning so that we can actually get started. And I'm going to ask you now to not destroy anything, even though you've shown excellent restraint tonight." Shadow concluded, pleased as he could be in the history of their events so far. 

"Good boy." He praised as he turned to leave. "Good night, Sonic." 

Even if he had shown strong values tonight, Shadow sighed as he locked the door behind him. They would for sure have a long day ahead, the moment he couldn't be bribed with food or shown leniency in his speech, anymore.

Chapter Text

As the sun began to rise, Shadow went through his morning routine. Making himself look presentable, finishing up any last minute work he set up for himself the night prior, gathering his list of usual tasks today..

Which all now consisted of training one legendary blue hedgehog. Of course.

Making a round to the kitchen, Shadow picked up some more sausages for his new charge. These smaller and of the breakfast variety, along with a spicy omelet and a piece of toast. Sonic had seemed receptive to food, and Shadow needed to fill out more muscle in him anyways. So hopefully the meal would put him in a good enough mood to get through their introductory lesson today.

Walking back down through the catacombs with food in hand, Shadow unlocked the door without knocking, inviting himself inside and glancing towards the bed. Was he still sleeping?

When Shadow entered the new captive’s sleeping chambers, he was in fact, asleep. He was, predictably, exhausted from the day’s events prior, the capture and treatment having only been an ending to whatever the Blue Phantom presumably got up to on a regular day, running around and thwarting feathered princes, invoking guards, and being a general menace to all upper society on principle. The hedgehog was curled up completely in a prickly, unwelcoming ball in his slumber, which he’d done on top of his sheet, rather than under it.

Shadow watched the blue ball of dulled quills flex in response to the sound of him entering, everything curling tighter briefly before either the sense of duty or the smell of food encouraged him to unfurl, like an unpleasant flower in the sun.

It was probably the smell of food.

Sonic had slept, but did not appear all that rested. He’d slept, probably dreamed about enacting revenge and attaining his freedom all night, and now Shadow had the distinct feeling he was probably back to square one after leaving the rebel to ruminate in his resentment all night.

Except the collar was still on, and it didn’t appear to be frayed like he’d attempted to claw it off, or cut it with some dull edge. So perhaps square two.

A black nose twitched with interest, green eyes blinking awake as he zeroed in, predictably, on the breakfast Shadow held.

And it begins, thought Sonic. Day one of his training. Or, more accurately, day one of captivity before escape. He set his sights on that goal and mentally latched onto it with everything he had. It was the only reason he sat up calmly and looked at his new keeper, rather than attacking outright and bolting for the door.

"Good morning to you," Shadow greeted him gently as he approached the skittish hedgehog on the bed, coming over to sit on the mattress next to him. A part of him briefly wondered how he would turn someone like this into a slave that someone could wake up next to on lazy days after long nights, how receptive he would be to a frisky morning to help start off his master's day...

No matter. They'd get there, no matter how long it would take.

The lack of immediate response didn't deter him either as he still kept the plate of food on his own lap instead of handing it over, another example to be made out of it.

"Whenever you first see your master it's proper to greet him, especially if he greets you first. It's pleasant on top of being proper." Shadow then took one of the sausages from the plate, biting off half of it for himself. After swallowing, he continued speaking. "Can you take a crack at asking for breakfast, for me?"

It was simple enough, all he was asking of Sonic was to be polite and address him correctly. That was hardly slave work, to have common manners.

After the meal, Shadow had just more things in order to make sure their training could continue without error... since Sonic had told him last night he wasn't virginal, a medical exam would be in order. They'd get that over with today... and then hopefully that would break the initial humiliation for the rest of the things Shadow would have to train him on later, so he could abandon the idea of private dignity there.

Sonic’s ear tilted toward him as he watched Shadow eat, those eyes, once awake, wide on him and tracking every motion. They only faltered when he briefly flicked them down to the plate in Shadow’s lap with the kind of hunger this hedgehog clearly reserved for food, and not, say, any activity regarding his intended purpose.

Sonic took a moment to take in the request, and decided, carefully, that he would have to pick his battles wisely. This was just breakfast.

“Good morning, sir,” he found himself saying, meeting Shadow’s gaze again. “Can I have some of that?”

Briefly, he wondered if he’d ever be allowed to simply call Shadow by name, and knew instinctively he wouldn’t. They were no longer considered equals. He was partially surprised he himself wasn’t simply referred by slave, or pet. While degrading, he at least got the impression Shadow treated him like a person with sound mind.

As if to accentuate this request, his stomach growled, noisily, making blue ears fold back a little. Normally going without food wasn’t an issue, but now that he’d broken his fast on a little too much good food, his body was demanding more of it, regularly. That would take some getting used to.

Deciding for now, so long as too much wasn’t asked of him, to obey Shadow’s requests, he applied, for the first time, some real tact when he spoke up next.

“Can I ask you a question?” It was spoken between thumb and forefinger, clearly not used to tiptoeing around his words. “And, uh— do I have to ask to ask a question?”

"Depends." Shadow hummed, examining the half of sausage left between his fingers. "The dynamic between a master and slave is all about reading the room, it's very contextual. Like if you notice your master is feeling tense, perhaps it would be wiser to ask if you can test his patience. Or, if you were to offer a service of some sort to help relax him. That's what your position is all about, truly."

Shadow looked over at Sonic, offering the half-eaten piece close to Sonic's muzzle, but still holding it himself.

"And that goes both ways, such as your master noticing how hungry you might be, or if you're feeling bored or lonely. So it's safer to ask to ask if you're unsure, does that make sense?" He nodded slightly, allowing Sonic to take the piece however he would like.

"You also need to be specific. You run a risqué kind of work. The more vague you are about what you want—“ Shadow's other hand came to briefly trail two gloved fingers under Sonic's chin, scratching briefly as if he were a domesticated kitten. He gently pulled their faces closer together. "The more others might assume for you."

Shadow then dropped his hand under Sonic's jaw, allowing space between them once more as he picked up another sausage.

"So ask me again, what would you like?"

…It didn’t go past Sonic the innuendo of his ‘master’ holding out a sausage, presumably for him to bite into. He weathered the offering with a dry stare, clearly not in an amorous mood at all.

The touch under his chin made him jump slightly, his annoyed expression morphing into wide-eyed surprise, jerking back belatedly after the little scratch. Those gloved fingers touching him, so gentle and coaxing, sent a violent shiver down his spine, ears shooting forward in alarm at the reaction in himself. Paired with that voice, Shadow oozed authority that demanded the kind of obedience he was clearly aiming for from Sonic.

His heart rate jumped up several paces. Such a simple gesture shouldn’t have made him tremble like that. Chaos, was he going to be able to handle this?

Sonic grit his teeth, flexing his jaw as he took a deep breath to calm himself.

I know I just committed myself to picking my battles, but he’s really testing me.

It annoyed him that such a simple request could be misconstrued in such a way, and it made him second guess the ease of his training. Surely not everyone thought the way this trainer did…?

Without glancing at the sausage, Sonic heroically called upon his instinct of self preservation and did not bite Shadow’s hand directly, asking again with admirable calm;

“Can I have some breakfast, from the plate. Sir.“ He tacked on the honorific with the precision of one fastidiously sifting through trash.

Shadow looked smug for some reason. Not because he was doing his job, no, that was to be expected. But it was obvious how even if Sonic had experience before, he was new to a soft kind of intimacy entirely. It was cute.. and he could practically hear his heartbeat from how close they were together.

"You may."

He held out the sausage again, whether for Sonic to take or to feed right from his hands there. Either way, he had earned it.

"The omelet here has bell peppers and spices in it, I thought it might appeal to you," Shadow commented, that light satisfaction still seeping through. After Sonic took the piece of meat in his hand he went ahead and slid the entire place into his lap instead, receding back into his own thoughts.

It was almost laughable, how Sonic seemed to forget the kind of slave he was made to be. And you could rack it all up to nervousness, as any captive or prisoner would be, but he wasn't coming at Shadow with violence, either. And he wasn't entirely hopeless, unless he would've already broken by now.

So... something just wasn't adding up.

After Sonic had finished eating, Shadow merely pulled the leash back out from his quills and hooked it to the matching collar he wore.

"Come, today's just going to be a physical to see about your health, and perhaps a start to your training if we have enough time before lunch."

Besides, Shadow was familiar with how physical exams could turn into a spontaneous lesson under the correct circumstances. It would be asking Sonic for a lot, but it was just another thing he'd have to wait and see.

The spicy omelet did appeal to Sonic, and he was unreasonably annoyed that Shadow would know this about him. But finally being allowed to eat, he kept his complaints internal until he was finished, feeling pleasant and begrudgingly willing to admit that this was one major upside of the palace.

Sonic didn’t however avoid a stifled groan when his collar was hooked up to the leash, easily the new worst part of captivity after the blunting. But it was better than whatever the hell magic Shadow had used to restrain him before, so he withstood the leash with mild annoyance, wondering if he could use some of that slave charm Shadow mentioned to talk him out of using it one day. One day soon.

He followed, mildly interested in the mention of a physical.

“Physical?” he said, coming to walk naturally as he would, beside Shadow rather than behind him, rendering the leash somewhat — entirely — purposeless. Huh. A physical, and possibly only that for the day? If he could get out of training, then a little exam was nothing. Height, weight, make sure he wasn’t rabid…he could do that. He hadn’t had a proper physical since he was a kid. Typically he was just patched up and declared ‘good to go,’ and then promptly sent back off to once again injure himself. Such was a day in the life of Sonic the hedgehog.

“That’s not so bad,” he thought aloud. “I don’t think I’ve actually had my height or weight taken down since I was…”

Ah. He didn’t have any ages off the top of his head. Mentally he shuffled seasons around in his head.

“I dunno. A kid, I guess. I’ve always been in good health, though.”

Thoughtfully, he paused. Allowing himself a little insolence, he glanced over at Shadow and noticed they were roughly the same height— except Sonic didn’t have his shoes anymore.

“We might be the same height, actually,” he said, Shadow surely not missing that very slight curl of amusement in his voice. If you ignored the leash and the voice and the poise that all made Shadow seem so much bigger than he was, he really was just an average flesh and blood hedgehog, like himself.

He wondered if Shadow could be persuaded, slightly, given some time. Clearly he was not Sonic’s intended master. Shadow seemed surprisingly amiable to a little compromise, seemed almost to enjoy the pushback he got from Sonic. He wondered if, maybe, he could work on his resolve and convince Shadow to help him out of here.

Or at the very least, turn a blind eye, just once. Thirty seconds of unsupervised time was all he’d need.

…The idea felt exactly as far fetched as it sounded, but it was all he could think toward, faced with the realization that getting out of here solo was likely impossible no matter how much he hated it. His reality was he relied on this hedgehog. Maybe with enough displays of obedience, Shadow could have a little heart and help a guy out. In the meantime, Sonic figured he could get away with a little disobedience disguised as his learning curve.

"Then I suppose you're well overdue for one, yes?" Shadow added as they reached the next room he would pull them into, closing the door as per usual and unclipping the leash. Motioning to the table in the room, covered with a simple cloth for 'comfort' (or easy sanitation, perhaps?) it was clear that's where Shadow wanted Sonic to go next.

It wasn't built like a normal desk like any means, the top having rounded edges and even a little pillow on one end. Next to it was a stool and a smaller tray with a drawer, presumably holding tools and the like. The rest of the room had various other equipment, like a scale and measurements engraved into the wall.

Once they were ready to begin, things proceeded as normal as they could've been. Shadow had peered inside his ears, tested his eyes with a chart of shapes and colors to name, made sure his physical reflexes were up to par— the simple tap against his knee causing his leg to almost hit him square in the chest if not for Shadow's own quick reaction to jump out of the way. He tested Sonic's taste and looked into the back of his throat and tonsils to make sure they were clear of infection, made sure none of his teeth were rotting or any issues with the gums..

For someone who had been on the run all his life, Sonic had somehow managed to avoid most health problems the usual person would run into.

There were no doubt signs of past injury on his body. Shadow noticed that his fur didn't tame down the correct way merely due to a lack of grooming; patches of fur had grown back after being cut or damaged one way or another, the healing skin scarring over in various patterns all over his body...

Sonic was built much like the warrior the Blue Phantom name upheld him to be.

But luckily, whatever bones that had potentially cracked before or muscles that bruised seemed to have healed on their own without much issue other than the odd (but harmless) misshape, barely noticeable unless one was looking carefully for it.

After taking his height and weight, coming in at 3'3 and 68 pounds, not only was Shadow correct about his obvious assumption about Sonic being underweight, but he felt a lot more confident at just how much he needed to gain, now. And with Sonic's newfound love of protein and carbs, that wouldn't be very difficult at all...

All was relatively painless, but now Shadow was done with the general look-over, which only meant misfortune for Sonic as he directed him back to the table. And in classic fashion, he was blunt with his wording as he pulled on a different pair of gloves— these made out of some sort of rubber material rather than cloth.

"So, you mentioned you weren't a virgin, if I recall correctly? How many partners have you had?" His voice was detached from the sensitive information, as if he was truly bored than trying to pry. It was his job, after all…

Sonic had been surprisingly cooperative, as he seemed with most things that weren’t overly invasive or outright meant to be degrading. He let Shadow maneuver him this way and that, opting to do so himself to limit their physical contact, skittish of prolonged touch as he seemed to be, which was…inconvenient, to say the least, considering his reprised role in society. All in all, he got through the examination with the bored, distracted air of one not particularly interested in what was happening, but not bothered by it either.

Satisfied that he was in fact in decent health — glancing at Shadow curiously when he took note of his weight in a somewhat odd tone — he’d hopped down and was ready to, hopefully, go back to his room and not have to deal with much else for the day. He was a little wary to approach the table again, and he had one hand resting on it when the gloves came out.

The sound of the rubbery snap made Sonic’s ears shoot backwards, eyes widening. At the question, he paled, mouth falling open.

“I…huh?” He suddenly wasn’t so sure about this. “I don’t know…a few? Does that matter?”

That nervy energy of before returned, tenfold. It was almost like the bath, again. Pulling his hand off the table, he eyed Shadow uncertainly.

Had he inadvertently expedited the exact thing he’d been trying to delay?

“Um. Physical’s all done, isn’t it?”

Shadow merely stared Sonic down, in expectant to keep up the prime behavior he had shown before and get back up on the table.

"Should I check your memory too? You seem to keep forgetting the fact you're a pleasure slave. Why are you surprised?"

He wasn't an idiot, and he didn't believe Sonic was either. Whether he had expedited the process or not, it was merely inevitable either way, with no possible escape from.

Neverminding all that, he waited for a moment to let Sonic comply. The air grew tense as he didn't let his eyes off him once, taking a single step towards him in implication.

"A few," he mused. The way Sonic had said that..

You just keep piquing my interest and regretting it later, don't you, hedgehog?

"Your oral check came back fine, so I doubt this will get painful for you. But since you've had sex before, even if you can't remember who or even if they were male or female, checking on your sexual health is only natural. Besides, it's nothing I'm not going to get familiar with as your master anyways, so back up on the table, please. You may lay preferably on your back or your front."

Shadow had his suspicions, but it never hurt to check.

For now, the ball was in Sonic's court. Shadow felt his spines raise slightly in preparation, in case he decided to make a run for it.

Sonic felt the bottom of his stomach fall out, and he mentally kicked himself. Hard.

Of course. Shadow had just mentioned the day before about most pleasure slaves remaining virginal for a reason… Fuck.

He could feel Shadow’s anticipation, readying for the moment Sonic would make a break for it again. And he was tempted. Green eyes shot nervously toward the door, the very tips of his ears trembled in an effort to keep them upright. But just as Shadow before had simply incapacitated him and strapped him down for the quill treatment, he could do the same now. Except this was somehow even more invasive than the blunting…

Shadow watched Sonic struggle with his decision, and previously easygoing mood promptly dissipated as, with great effort, the hedgehog turned back to the table and stared at it. His expression was faintly reviled, pinning his frustration on the inanimate object.

With an obvious discomfort, he lifted a knee onto it and pulled himself up. Every quill was raised a little, reflexive in his fear, and not at all a deterrent for anyone any longer. It would be worse to watch Shadow while he did it…So even if lying belly down felt weird, it was at least a position he felt slightly less vulnerable in. That soft underside down, quills outward. The impudent little tail was tucked firmly down, and he couldn’t completely control that, either.

So far nothing had been as bad as he’d anticipated, so surely Shadow wouldn’t let him down now. Maybe it would be quick, painless, just kind of awkward. But Shadow had alluded to ‘male or female’ partners, which likely confirmed Sonic’s suspicion of the use of new gloves.

Unable to keep the nervousness out of his voice, resting his arms under his chin, he asked;

“You said male or female…does it matter which?” He was perhaps foolishly hoping he might be able to wriggle his way out of an examination that involved anything his tail was currently hiding.

"Not unless you'd like me to get more graphic about my guesses about your past. Or is that something you'd perhaps be into?" Shadow darkly chuckled, and maybe for a moment Sonic could wonder if he truly did enjoy humiliating others.

Even if his voice didn't reflect it, the way Shadow handled him was still with the weirdest sense of gentleness Sonic could find in this place. Trailing a hand up his flank as a pre-warning to get used to the touch, Shadow used his hands to prop Sonic's hips up so he could get a proper look at his legs and what was nestled between them. He nudged the thighs open with the back of his hand first, a slow thumb intimately trailing up to the crease of there his pelvis connected together.

Using one hand to slightly move Sonic's tail to the side (though not all the way up, surprisingly) he held it pinned against his right leg as he used his other hand to find what he was looking for with expert precision.

"Something I do care to note, though. When was the last time you had sex, if you can recall? And was there any pain involved, any particular substance that seemed like a good lubricant but you regretted later..?"

Shadow prodded over the hidden slit of his pouch as he parted the thicker protective fur, finding it all too quickly as he felt it over for any odd ridges or injury.

Infection or disease was the main thing he was looking for, and this would be the first time he'd get to see how Sonic would react under his hand. How submissive or defiant he would be, or if he had any weak spots in particular. He'd spare his dignity as much as he could for now by focusing on what was in front before trying to force that tail any higher.

Sonic’s previous aversion to touch made this nearly impossible to sit through, and it was obvious to Shadow in the incredible tension strung throughout his body. A body forged by battle and conditioned from fear, broken and reshaped again and again for the purpose he’d been given by others. Not meant for this.

And yet, he was a hedgehog, not a phantom, and a young man, at that. His body was not literally the weapon he’d forged it into being. Naturally, he reacted to the touch between his legs, and the fact that Shadow was being so gentle, and was talking to him in that fucking voice wasn’t helping matters. Sonic felt like he was going to fall apart from that brief touch alone; did Shadow not realize the effect he was having on him?

“I…”

Sonic was distracted. What had Shadow asked him again? He felt his body breaking into a sweat, his heartbeat racing. This was mortifying. The unfamiliar sensation of blood rushing down south made him twitch and pull away from those prodding fingers, clawing at the table. Blue ears pinned back in distress, humiliated at the immediate feeling of his sheath becoming a little fuller. And Shadow hadn’t even done anything to him.

“I dunno—“ He said in a rush, body jerking away from that touch again. This felt dangerous, moreso than the dequilling had. “Um, a while, I guess,” he strained, closing his eyes and trying hard to think of anything extremely unattractive.

Calm down, stupid body! You hate this guy, remember? Think of large bodies of water, or of the Captain again…

"I can tell."

Shadow kept the gentleness in his tone, starkly contrasting to how tense he could feel those muscles twitch and strain under his fingertips. The really impressive thing was the fact Sonic hadn't fallen over yet, or tried to kick him out of instinct. He kept brushing his thumb over the rising slit, firm and predictable as he watched the other hedgehog squirm and fight to keep under control.

Over sensitivity..?

Or just a liar, Shadow thought to himself lightly, part of him wondering what would happen if he used his tongue instead of his thumb to press over the growing pouch, but he held back. Surely that would come later in his training... and if he pushed Sonic too far now, he might never be able to be held down like this without restraints again.

Keeping it professional was Shadow's specialty, after all.

"You don't have to be shy about it. If anything, I would have to ask you to expose yourself anyways. It's ideal when it comes down to it."

The pad of his finger then massaged in a circle over the poor slit a mere couple of times, and Shadow's ear twitched in consideration.

Sonic would've made an excellent messenger, he was sure. But he was awfully cute like this, giving into Shadow's treatment but fighting it internally. Perhaps if he had been born into the kingdom properly he would've been a fine pick for a bed slave, regardless.

That and, Shadow allowed himself a little bit of unprofessionalism just this once. He returned to the brushing motions over Sonic's pouch, leaning a little bit closer than he had to as he exhaled slowly, breathing heat onto the teased slit before running over it again.

Sonic felt like he was losing his mind.

His body felt unstable, being played in a way he wasn’t used to. Beatings, and violence, and harsh treatment— all of that he could take with a smile on his face. Anything else was a luxury in his life. But this…he couldn’t call it luxury. This was a new kind of torture that he’d completely underestimated, and Shadow was the evil mastermind behind it, tugging at invisible strings in Sonic’s gut.

“Is this really necessary—“ he protested, before an unexpected heat brushed over that sensitive flesh and he jerked, a little more roughly this time, away once more. “Shadow!”

Not his proper title, but his name, blurted out of panic. The motion of his hips jerking forward in an attempt to escape the attention only encouraged exactly what he hadn’t wanted; a moistened, flushed tip, pushing out of that protective pouch.

He was beyond degraded. His head dropped between his shoulders, body trembling slightly. He couldn’t comprehend the pleasure coursing through him, why the touch from this guy in particular was having this effect on him, and why it didn’t seem very dissuaded by the fear striking through him. The fear of Shadow realizing he hadn’t been honest, and the fear of what he knew would come next.

“Is that enough yet?” he asked, legs trying to pull together, clearly resentful of the fact that his cock was slipping out against his wishes.

Please let it be; I don’t think I can sit through any more.

Unluckily for Sonic, he didn't have a crying chance.

Shadow's hands immediately corrected him back into place when he had moved, the hand pinning his tail to his leg quickly snapping over and pulling Sonic back by the base of his tail and sliding back down to hold shaking legs open.

"I'm going to give you a choice, Sonic."

Shadow's voice had slipped deeper somehow, the same commanding tone he used to order him to sit yesterday peaking through as he spoke.

"You can either tell me the truth about your sexual experience, or I can take it upon myself to not make you a liar, anymore."

Shadow purred as he laid a kiss on the inside of Sonic's thigh, a sharp fang nipping across the skin before he left it alone again. That would be suitable punishment for the misuse of his name. But whether he was properly punished or not, Shadow had seen right through him, and regardless he was going to make Sonic melt.

Pushing up on the front of his lower abdomen, Shadow encouraged the shy length to come out the rest of the way. It would be a lot easier to sexually subdue him given the use of his mouth with both his hands occupied like this.. but he knew he was already treading dangerous waters. He had to get Sonic to break on his own, with his guide, not by his own use of force.

The kick Shadow had anticipated before landed square in Shadow’s chest. It wasn’t terribly painful, which seemed to make it clear it had been a reactive move rather than a purposeful one, and Sonic tore himself away, lowering his haunches and fisting the cloth on the table between his hands.

“I lied,” he hissed, head bowed. “Obviously.”

The hedgehog’s chest was heaving, and he was fully roused now, with not even much effort on Shadow’s part, and it was clear he was humiliated. He was the Blue Phantom, damn it. Sonic had never been subject to this kind of treatment in his life, and it was cracking his mind open to be experiencing such a total and complete revision of everything he knew. Everything he understood. Sonic had stoically buried any thought, any urge, any desire for this kind of thing under the crushing pressure of the resistance, and he’d alienated the needs of his own body to the point he felt betrayed by its natural reactions.

He’d hardly even fed himself, not obeying even to the call of hunger. To feel this out of control— he would’ve cried, if he allowed himself such a weakness as tears.

“I’ve never— what you said, about receiving favors from the people I help. I would never do that.”

Shoulders trembling, he lifted his head, putting effort into the motion, having to face his tormentor. His incredibly skilled, gentle tormentor.

“So can we stop now?” Please, he didn’t add, because he already felt low enough, getting aroused by this. The worst part was knowing it wasn’t entirely instinct, either. That coaxing voice was doing something to him, and he wanted it to stop now.

If Shadow went further, he was not going to be able to sit still for it. Even if he wanted to, even if he tried, he was afraid of the next step— and afraid of that curling enjoyment in Shadow’s attitude, the part of him that Sonic now understood seemed to be the key to all his successes.

He couldn’t endure that hot, firm grip around his tail again, or to stand having those fingers actually touch his dick directly, or he might actually die, he felt. Sonic had never dared fantasize about any specific person before, but this—

Shadow was surely going to haunt him, and not by way of nightmares. And here he was, forcing himself to remain ashamed and trembling on the table, senses completely overloaded, instead of jumping off and making a mad dash regardless of consequences or losing his chance at freedom. Maybe it would be better to be rendered completely helpless; at least he wouldn’t feel complicit in letting this happen to him.

He almost begged for the restraints in his mind, just so he could fight them, just so he could say he’d tried everything. Just so he could ignore the nagging, traitorous voice that said, just endure it, just please him, and you’ll get your chance to run.

Shadow coughed slightly as the wind was kicked out of him, a flash of anger washing through him as he thought his chest was made to be the launching pad for Sonic to start running. But...

When he opened his eyes again, Sonic was still on the table, cowering instead. Shameful, embarrassed. And obeying— he finally came out with the truth, his voice shaking like he was on the verge of tears. Any snap reaction or emotion Shadow might've felt immediately melted at the sight, and he used his forearm to push his chest fur back in place as he felt over the bones. If he was anyone else, that might've been a lot worse... and once again, Sonic was doing nothing but impress Shadow, over and over again.

"...You know, when you first said that, I was surprised that such a noble 'hero' would take advantage of the people he saved like that. I had my suspicions... but I strongly advise you stay honest with me. If you had simply told me you were a virgin from the start you could've avoided a lot of trouble."

He still would've needed a brief sexual health exam, but nothing invasive. It was a good thing Shadow had gone after his pouch, first.

But now they were at a whole new situation. And Shadow still needed to at least look him over.

He approached Sonic again, slowly.

"But, now that you've fessed up, there's no reason I'd have to put anything inside you, so you've gotten your way out of that. However, I do still need to make sure you're clean, not to mention functional." The way he phrased it made Sonic seem like a toy, which legally he was now, but it still felt off for someone like him. It was.. suggestive. Functional.

There was no way Sonic was leaving this place untouched.

A single, daring hand trailed up around Sonic's lower back, petting the fur in a soothing motion.

"I doubt it'll last very long if we get it over with. If you behave for me, I'll bring you to the kitchen so you may pick out your own lunch, given you stay obedient."

Shadow offered the reward, his hand making lingering circles in blue fur as his touch traveled over his rear, ghosting over the tucked tail again before rising back up to the dip of his spine.

“Functional,” the rebellious hedgehog echoed, his muscles hard as stone under Shadow’s hand, tension strung throughout him like a drawn bow. He sounded dispirited at that word choice, but he gave a little shaky exhale at the hand petting down his back.

He’d avoided anything invasive, at the very least. That was cause for victory, right? He could handle…this.

His muscles twitched as his rear was brushed over, turning his head to look back at Shadow, ears twitching back. Still, his length throbbed insistently between his legs, hot and aching in a way that had never been so bothersome before. Was this just what it was like to have another person touch him? Would it feel like this if it were anyone else?

Resentful that Shadow had drawn out this reaction in him, he forced himself to stay where he was, swallowing thickly as he tipped his head forward again, letting his forehead rest on his arms.

Shadow at least wasn’t unreasonable, to a degree. He wouldn’t be punished for speaking honestly — although he might be discouraged from doing so in front of the Prince when it came time.

“I thought maybe you’d just…skip this part, if you thought I knew what I was doing.” It sounded just as ridiculous spoken aloud as it did in his head, but it was all he’d thought of when Shadow had asked him that question. Are you virginal?

“I just— panicked, I don’t know—“

Was Shadow going to…what was he planning? He was already out, and by now fully agitated, and very distracting to Sonic, who was trying to think past the thoughts of more. But he didn’t even know what he wanted more of. Chaos, should he just let Shadow touch him? It was already kind of beyond that point.

“Are you— what are you gonna do?”

But it was also mortifying to think of Shadow taking him the rest of the way, forcing him into pleasure that he didn’t feel at all prepared for.

While Sonic's anxieties were understandable, the actions he took caused by them were laughable. For someone to be said with such strong values of freedom, you would think he would know more about what it was like in slavery. He was uneducated, naive. Apparently down to the point of his physical biology.

"How endearing. Have you ever even touched yourself before?" Shadow was back to where he started before Sonic had kicked him out of reflex, words sickly sweet in Sonic's ears. "I won't do anything you won't want me to."

Suddenly this had turned into a trust exercise, somehow. Shadow could work with that.

"Go ahead and push yourself back up," He instructed, hand patting down his thighs again. "Legs apart, please. Nothing will go inside you."

Yet, Shadow finished in his head. No, he would have to save that for another time. This was plenty of progress for the first day. While he waited for Sonic to comply, he did reach into one of the drawers to bring out a jar of lubricant, dipping his fingertips into it.

"Being a bed slave may be about giving pleasure, but half of that is also about receiving pleasure as well. It's an enjoyable position to have, an equal exchange of give and take if done right. And I think, your fear of the unknown aside..."

Shadow finally met Sonic's wild gaze, knowing.

"…You're dying with curiosity, aren't you?"

Sonic nearly protested — of course he’d touched himself, and he was not endearing — but it seemed counterproductive to argue over such a thing with Shadow, who would of course, have loved to hear every detail of Sonic’s experience.

Which…wasn’t much, to put it kindly. It was kind of hard to get in a mood when you bunked with no less than a dozen other strangers, and spent most nights nursing new hurts. He gritted his teeth but did as he was bid.

It was weird that he found himself trusting Shadow’s word. He didn’t have a reason to believe he’d trick him like that— so he raised himself up again, his tail held stiff and straight out rather than tucked feebly between his legs again. To be examined this way, so closely…it was unthinkably jarring.

But Shadow’s words made his thoughts gutter and flicker out, eyes going a little wide as he stared ahead, his breathing coming quickly.

Curiosity? Is that the reason he was actually letting this happen? He wasn’t broken, not even close to it— and his obedience was only present out of convenience rather than the need to take orders. He’d fought every other treatment, so why not this? Perhaps that accusation held a kernel of truth, as nauseous as that idea made him.

Upon hearing those words that had damned him — the Prince saying, I want him at my feet — his only image of what a slave in his position looked like was being handed around the palace, for even the guards to run through until he became boring to them. A thorough breaking in, so that he’d be unresisting for the Prince. It hadn’t been this. Shadow, his keeper, his captor, coaxing pleasure out of him, trying to learn about him, offering him rewards for just letting himself be touched.

It hadn’t been him, kneeling here, staying still for it.

“You won’t do anything I don’t want?” he strained, with a slight laugh. “I don’t suppose that applies to anything besides this, huh?”

Such as letting me go? he thought, sarcastically. But he did hold onto those words. He’d need them to cling to if he was going to leave this room sane.

“And I suppose you know what I want, then?” It was a half-hearted protest, because he wouldn’t have had an issue with kicking Shadow’s face in. Perhaps Shadow had been a little closer to the mark than he was willing to admit.

He shuddered as his cock throbbed again, Shadow’s direct stare a little too much to take in at the same time.

Even as Sonic presented himself, Shadow still avoided touching him directly yet, petting around that stiff tail and massaging over tense muscle.

"Anything you won't want," He corrected him, "And I do."

He was confident that Sonic was clean now, nothing to fear in the means of infections or anything concerning. And peering at what Sonic was so embarrassed of all this time, there wasn't anything in particular to note. But if he was oversensitive that would have to be taken care of unless proved desirable, and well..

Finally, at last, with the hand he gathered the lubricant with, he slowly reached around Sonic's tip, hot flesh meeting the cooler gel on his fingers. Using his thumb to grasp around the shy cock and sliding his palm down the base, Shadow merely held him there and occasionally squeezed, testing the reactions he would pull.

Surely as the time passed Sonic would grow more needy, more wanting. And if this was truly enjoyable for him, then Shadow would have an easier time introducing more and more to him in their training together, the pleasure itself a reward for Sonic. It wouldn't be long until he was grinding down into his hand, moving those hips in desire, blunted quills naturally flattening in submission.

But being hasty could end up with Sonic fearing him, hating what his body did afterwards. So Shadow persevered by starting slow and gentle like always, sliding his hold up around Sonic's length before moving back down.

"That's not bad, is it?" He encouraged, his free hand stroking up the underside of Sonic's tail. "Just breathe. I'll take care of you."

Sonic despised how confident Shadow was. He despised more how stingingly accurate he turned out to be.

His spines didn’t lay down flat, but instead flexed and relaxed in a rhythm Shadow began to predict with equal accuracy, the seconds he would allow himself to stop fighting before a new wave of tension hit him. He didn’t realize he was rocking his hips a little, his eyes squeezed shut.

He perked up when Shadow spoke again, opening his eyes with a frustrated flush coloring his face. He glared half heartedly around himself at the trainer, but he shuddered with an audible little sound, which sounded as agonized as he was pleased by the touch under his tail. The little appendage lifted of its own accord, and Sonic didn’t think about it, think about how revealing that gesture was.

I’ll take care of you. Those words felt like a jab— but he knew, in his own twisted way, Shadow meant them. Even if this wasn’t exactly what Sonic would call taking care of someone. It still made heat unfurl in his core, another tremble wracking his body, his body giving up a new little rush of fluid from the tip of his cock against Shadow’s hand.

“Stop,” he groaned, his breaths coming faster, feeling something peaking quickly in him. “Stop— talking to me—“ He knew what it was, and he was trying to stave it off, panic making his pulse race again, but it was too late to avoid it. “Fuck, I can’t…”

He tried to follow what Shadow told him, and breathed, but they were shallow and loud, hips jerking back against his will into that torturous touch.

There was a brief hesitance in Shadow's touch when Sonic said 'stop', lasting a single moment before only continuing after he finished the rest of his plea. Shadow was already picking up on the little quirks and nuances that made him leak a little more in his hand, a pretty easy task when Sonic was just handing the information out to him.

And their position could be better, by far. Shadow let go of Sonic without warning, smirk across his muzzle as he too, stepped up on the table and draped himself over Sonic's back, trapping that little blue tail with his own hips as he reached back down to finish what he started.

"Can't what? Grind your hips back a little further into my hand?" He said, knowing exactly what he was doing to Sonic, going so far as to run the flat of his tongue behind his lowered ear.

All of his movements were calculated, slow. Shadow was tuned in to focus on what would push him to the brink, his touch a fire meant for nothing but to reduce Sonic to warm putty in his hands to remold however he'd like.

"The way your voice breaks, you make very pretty noises." Shadow beckoned him, his own breath a bit heavier than before. The hand on his cock sped up, rubbing up around the tip where he noticed it made Sonic the weakest. "Make more of them for me."

Sonic made a startled sound, lilting in a questioning tone before he jerked under Shadow, but had nowhere to go except face-first off the table and onto the floor. His spines raised reflexively at having someone on top of him, but they only prodded Shadow harmlessly.

He groaned with a glare aimed down at the table, hips twitching back despite his resolve to not let Shadow’s words work on him. The feeling of his body being pressed against another’s like this, Shadow’s hips fitting unselfconsciously against his own, pressing exactly where Sonic had been nervous about before—

“I don’t—!” he snapped, but the effect was lost when he felt a violent pulse of pleasure weaken him after the lick behind his ear — was that necessary? — arms feeling like jelly and dropping his upper half against the table, arching and doing exactly what Shadow had bid him to do. He swore loudly into the cloth of the table, quickly covering his mouth with his hand to try and stifle any more unwanted sound. Shadow’s ears caught the sound of his name, ground out half in fury between bared teeth.

He made a strangled noise, like he was trying to say words— but Shadow had no time to interpret them. The proof of Sonic’s pleasure hit his hand in hot, strident fluid, too soon, Sonic clawing at the table and bucking into his fist, mindlessly chasing his climax now that it was too late to stop it. He protested uselessly, shuddering as he was brought for the first time to orgasm by a hand other than his own.

Of course he worked him through it, waiting until Sonic stilled under his hold to let him go. Even then he lingered for a few lasting moments, feeling the blunted quills under his chest fall limp with fatigue. Leaving a kiss behind the same ear, only then did he pull himself off of Sonic. He carefully climbed back down to the floor as he turned his gloves inside out and disposed of them, pulling his cloth ones back on.

"Room for improvement is a given, but for your first day I'm rather pleased. Good boy," Shadow said, satisfied in his work as he pulled out a different cloth to clean Sonic off, having caught most of the mess in his hand but making sure there wasn't any accidental residue was just standard practice.

Besides, there was nothing out of the ordinary about Sonic's biology, fit for a clean bill of health. That and Shadow had been able to get a good look at (and a little bit more) his size and hotspots he would have to note down for the future...

Folding the cleaning cloth in his hands and setting it aside to wash later, Shadow gave the tail one last pet before circling around the front to meet Sonic eye to eye.

"Need a minute..? How are you feeling?"

He kept a close watch on him, but also remained out of biting distance— he had heard what Sonic had done to one of the guards during his capture, and he wasn't particularly interested in gagging him. Yet.

Hearing Shadow walk about and talk about his performance, like that was a perfectly normal thing to do after something like that.

After oh-so-casually just giving Sonic his first ever sexual experience. And that absolutely infuriating little praise at the end of it all. It pissed him off, but pleasure was still coursing through him at the same time, confusing all his feelings and mixing them up.

He endured the cleaning only because he was too stunned still to do anything about it, remaining in a half-kneel on his elbows and knees, everything drooping and drained. It was only when Shadow brushed his tail again that he twitched to attention, quills slowly raising again when Shadow stopped in front of him.

How was he feeling.

How was he feeling?

Sonic's head lifted, his ears folded back, and his gaze was sharp on his captor. He felt a little better with his...dignity tucked away once more, and he was quick to jump down from the table, his feet on solid ground again with some relief. He was quick to put a table's distance between them, not trusting himself around Shadow right now. He looked as irritated as when Shadow had been dumping buckets of water unceremoniously on him in the bath.

It was a good thing Shadow thought to keep his distance...his teeth were slightly bared.

"I'm fine,' he snapped, his flush still ever present, self consciously running a hand over the slightly mussed fur of his chest, gaze landing everywhere but on Shadow. "I just...I need a minute. Of no touching."

He wasn't particularly focused on food again just yet...but it was at least something to think about that wasn't this. He just needed to get out of this room— if his damn legs would stop trembling.

Shadow allowed him the space, watching Sonic all the while. He was oddly relaxed, and if Sonic had looked, there would've been a small motion of Shadow's own tail briefly wagging behind him. Shadow was deeply intrigued by Sonic's behavior, by his actions, watching him like he was the best entertainment he had experienced in awhile. Which was true, he supposed...

He had trained all sorts of slaves from all sorts of different backgrounds, but he had never seen such submission paired with active defiance.

And after he orgasmed, he stumbled like a newborn baby deer.

Unmoving from his position, after a minute or so Shadow brought out the leash from his quills again. He clinked at the metal clasp at the end, the noise meant to get Sonic's attention.

"If you're recovered, I'll take you to the kitchen when you're ready, if you would like. I keep my word. Or I could take you back to your room for now?"

It was clear he wanted Sonic to come up to him, to willingly submit himself to being leashed rather than Shadow coming to him first. Just another dig at that unwillingness, just another way to show it wasn't so bad, was it? Everything Shadow did almost seemed like Sonic had given him permission to, the lightest persuasion used to make it feel like Shadow was the one giving into Sonic's whims.

It was a reason the dark hedgehog was just so damn charismatic, like that.

Sonic's ears flattened sideways somewhat at the clink of the leash, green eyes staring at him with flat indignation for a long, drawn out moment in which he said nothing. He actually did come close, slowly, with his eyes on Shadow and his lip curled slightly. He prowled more than he walked, eyed the hand with the leash like he was going to lunge forward and sink his teeth in at the offending appendage after all.

He seemed to weigh the consequence of acting out on that particular urge with the benefit of staying somewhat obedient for the moment— and obedience won out.

This time.

His lips flattened again, hiding sharp teeth as he slid his gaze petulantly away and tilted his head ever so slightly, presenting the collar to Shadow, although he stopped just short enough so that Shadow had to step forward to close the remaining distance.

Just that slight insubordination, taking it where he could.

"I want to go up," he answered, taking Shadow up on the bit of exploration he was allowing. At the very least, it gave him a break from this drab dungeon, and a look at possible routes out of this place.

Now his newfound docility was faintly laced with shock. He felt...changed, by what had happened. His body tingled everywhere Shadow had been in contact. His ear flicked with the phantom feeling of a hot tongue leaving its trace there, and his sheath held onto the electric warmth of his recent orgasm. Shadow's fingers were still there, opening him up.

No. It wasn't him that was changed; it was his situation that had changed.

Even with all of Shadow's warnings, this particular threat had still felt far fetched; unreal. Now he was forced to face his new reality, and as shocking as it had been, he only dreaded being handed over to the Prince all the more. From what little he knew, he was certain Prince Jet would not be as lenient nor as understanding as Shadow apparently was.

Shadow remained unintimidated as he clipped the leash to Sonic's collar, a hum of approval acting as soft praise for his compliance. Food was currently another reward he was using and surely that would turn Sonic's mood less sour, at least while he ate.

Though he was going to keep a close eye on him, the slack around his wrist looped up and their connection from Sonic's neck to his hand kept short. Perhaps there would be a day he could be trusted to freely roam, never straying too far behind Shadow as they walked but... those days were far from arrival for now.

Before they even moved to leave the room however, Shadow gave a slight tug at the leash, corrective in action.

"You want to go up..?" Come, now. He knows what he's missing.

"Remember what I said about being vague?" Shadow knew regardless, though he made a show of it. "Because I'd suppose I could take you up to my bed chambers in the palace, if that's where you'd like to continue your training. So tell me," Shadow was flaunting his control over him as he felt over the ridges of the leash wrapped around the back of his hand. "Would you like that? Or did you want to come up and have lunch with me first?"

Sonic could be insubordinate all he wanted. Shadow would throw his follies right back in his face, if not do worse with them.

Sonic was regretting not biting him.

He actually scoffed quietly, giving himself a moment to let Shadow know how absurd he found all this, before he rearranged his expression carefully, crossing his arms.

“I would like to go up to the palace for lunch,” he said, flatly. Although he couldn’t hide the way his cheeks heated up again faintly at the suggestion, but Sonic was now strictly off limits for the rest of the day. “Is that adequate, sir?”

Part of him was still hung up on those earlier words. Room for improvement.

Improvement on what? Coming on command? Being acceptably servile? How did one improve upon doing nothing and being touched? He was irrationally annoyed by it, and tried not to connect any pesky dots telling him it was because he thought perhaps Shadow had found him disappointing.

He didn’t care what Shadow found disappointing or not. Sonic wasn’t going to be a sex slave. It didn’t matter what he thought.

Really. It didn’t.

"Much better." Shadow approved, Sonic's annoyance practically not even there. And to anyone else, he might've rewarded with some sort of physical affection, a pat on the head or scratch under the chin, but just because he was ignoring Sonic's irritation doesn't mean he didn't know it was there.

And he didn't want to have one of his fingers broken possibly. So he merely looked at Sonic with a sort of contentment in his eyes, and began to lead the way out of the dungeons below.

Chapter Text

The hallways seemed to take forever, turning this way and that before finally leading to a larger staircase that brought them to the palace inside. The walls turned from drab stone to a lighter brick, the steps under their feet turning smoother and more well-kept like tile. And it was considerably brighter as Shadow opened the final door, keeping Sonic close all the while.

"When you're trained properly you'll spend more time in common areas like these, whether you're entertaining or simply lounging about. It's quite a perk not to be stuck in one spot officially, even though you will be mostly in beds by nature," Shadow mildly explained as he noticed Sonic take it all in, the daylight really doing favors for the color in his fur to stand out unlike below ground.

Things seemed relatively normal again, the past tension having dropped as Shadow made their way towards the kitchen area. Other servants and noblesmen were strewn about, eating at low placed tables with pillows as seats on the floor, some taking their meals to an outside patio area not too far off.

"What would you like? Something spicy with meat again, I presume?" Shadow looked over at his charge as he led them to the line to put in their meal requests.

Sonic despised that his first trip back up to the surface was on the end of a leash, but at least he got the trip at all. He followed without fuss, eventually coming to walk beside Shadow rather than behind him, brightening considerably upon the change in scenery.

All these dizzying colors and patterns again. The intricate tiles set with precious gems just to be walked on — really, what a gross display of wasted wealth — and the bright greens, blues, golds, and purples everywhere he put his eyes.

He finally tore his eyes away to acknowledge Shadow’s suggestion, a little surprised by it.

“Oh— uh, yeah. That sounds good, again.” He was distracted. They’d come well into the part of the palace that was populated by courtesans. And accompanying nearly every single one— slaves.

No, not simply slaves. They were pleasure slaves. Pets.

While most went without clothes of any kind, they generally went about doing inoffensive tasks, simply keeping their adoring masters company, feeding them or fanning them or simply serving as glorified lap dogs. They were clearly examples of what Sonic was meant to strive to emulate; pampered, mild mannered, attractive, and pliant.

This was Babylon; kingdom of honeyed poison. Everything luxurious, dripping with the excesses of the earth. This was the political climate he was now expected to navigate.

Sonic’s improving mood plummeted, ears twitching at some increasing sound from somewhere he couldn’t pinpoint.

He stopped abruptly, the leash pulling tight, but he didn’t budge. His eyes had gone wide, and he strained against the leash to investigate despite his growing mortification.

Of all the sights laid out before him in this overripe palace, this one was simple; sex.

Except, it seemed too kind to call it that.

There was a pleasure slave, but he’d heard all the sounds before he caught sight of the slave themselves. Off against the far, windowed wall of the open room, there was one young male being used in every way he could’ve been used at one time.

Surely, to Sonic’s understanding, a slave only had the one master they were given to. So what the hell was he seeing?

“What…”

It was the worst, but he couldn’t look away. There were three men who didn’t see fit to wait their turn; one gripped his ears, keeping him crouched on his knees on the tile, using his mouth. The long, feline tail was gripped and held aloft for the use of the man behind him, who was unambiguously fucking him right out in the open. And gripping one of the slave’s hands, the third used his fist on himself. While obedient, the slave clearly struggled to handle all three at once, and yet had no recourse for protest.

When he finally got a good look, whatever hope Sonic had of overlooking the horrifying public display flickered out; he knew this slave.

He knew that fighter.

“What the hell!” Sonic shouted, tugging against the leash now, all but snarling, blunted quills raised high, baring his teeth. “Slinger!” he called, lunging away from Shadow, pulling. “Let him go!”

The slave reacted to his name, a large ear swiveling his way, but he wasn’t let up until the courtesans using him were finished. Strong as Shadow was, Sonic pulled viciously. Slinger made a sound, and he thrashed briefly as the man behind him finished inside, and was quick to stride off with a nasty glare at Shadow and his unruly charge.

“What did you say,” the canine at Slinger’s mouth growled, pulling away, “slave?”

Sonic had been hitching for a fight since he’d arrived; and here was where he’d get one. He ignored Shadow and jerked at the leash, focusing his loathing gaze on the courtesan.

“Sonic?” It was Slinger’s voice, rising from the floor, covering his mouth — likely to hide the mess there — and staring at him and Shadow with rounded eyes.

“I said,'' Sonic repeated, “To get your filthy paws off my friend! Can’t you do that in private? He’s a person for Chaos’ sake!”

“Sonic, stop—“ Slinger spoke, but was quickly hushed by one of the courtesans nearby, who appeared to be his real master. An older gentleman, who placed a protective hand between his ears and dabbed at his mouth with a handkerchief he produced seemingly out of thin air. Slinger bowed his head for the treatment, but he was flushed, and his eyes darted desperately back to Sonic, where the provoked courtesan was approaching him, producing a riding crop from his belt.

“Kneel, you fucking rat,” the fox snarled, cracking the crop in the air as warning. “If your master won’t bring you to heel, then I will.”

Sonic eyed the crop as the complete non threat that it was, almost insulted. His grin was sharp and dangerous. This joker had nothing on what he’d already been through by Shadow’s hands— who did not need to flaunt around a riding crop to threaten.

Shadow, meanwhile, scolded himself for not being surprised. Of course Sonic was prone to a little pulling, but he had managed to drag Shadow along despite choking himself out, or the link between them breaking. He hadn't particularly counted on Sonic running into a familiar face in the court, but he should've known better.

It was only when Sonic seemed set on declaring war with some of the nobles that he had to step into true action, snapping his fingers and restraining Sonic with a stronger leash— one he should be familiar with by now.

He forcefully stepped between his project-in-training and the cranky fox, glaring daggers not at Sonic, but at the man who had dared threaten him instead.

"He's mine. He's not fully trained yet, so you have my apologies," Shadow said dangerously, eyes narrowed. "I hope you have it in yourself to forgive him. But if you so punish him without permission I might not have it in myself to forgive you."

And he turned to leave it at that, giving the glowing strand in his hands a harsher than needed yank to pull Sonic closer, when another voice spoke up to address him.

"Oh, so this little troublemaker is your new plaything, is he, Shadow?"

The man who held Slinger on his lap now called over, as if the rabble amused him. An octopus, clothed in black silken robes.

"I've been meaning to thank you for some time now. The Prince certainly has you busy making quality product all the time, for good reason." He ran a tentacle down the cat's back, their relationship clear.

"Mimic," Shadow acknowledged his words simply, keeping half his attention on Sonic still. "As much as I'd love to stay and catch up with you, you're correct. I am very busy. Thank you, but I—"

"Him," Mimic interrupted the excuse before the hedgehogs could get away, pointing a finger towards Sonic who was still quite rageful. "Do you know him, my pet?" The question was directed at Slinger, a mild nod given for his permission to reply.

Sonic was the picture of bristled annoyance when that familiar restraint was used on him again. He didn’t outright collapse from it— but it did knock the air out of him in the moment, shooting his keeper a glare. Not that he should have been surprised.

But he was focused on Slinger again, who couldn’t find it in himself to ignore everything happening, even with his impeccable training.

But the ocelot was encouraged to reply, which he’d looked itching to do regardless. Lifting himself up from Mimic’s lap, his bright eyes settled on Sonic, tail curling primly around himself as he sat up.

“I do,” he answered his master, but he and Sonic were watching each other. Bashfully, Slinger smiled. “Hello, old friend. I…never expected to find you here, of all places.”

It was clear that Slinger was not so subservient that he could hide the fact that Sonic seeing him like this had been a blow to his pride. And yet…Sonic couldn’t fathom what was going on. His friend held that familiar, cunning glint in his gaze, and he spoke openly, frankly. And yet he’d been obedient.

“Sonic— that is still your name, right? They call you that?”

Sonic blinked, confusion flashing across his features.

“Of course. That’s my name— what else would I be called?”

Slinger exchanged a glance with Shadow. A few things, the glance said, but he didn’t say this aloud.

“Nevermind. It’s good to see you, my friend, truly. While it never befitted you to be here…” He was allowed that small bit of insolence, clearly unpunished by his doting master, who kept a proprietary hand on him. “You’re in very good hands with Master Shadow.”

“How long have you been here?” Sonic asked, looking stricken. “It’s been over a year since you disappeared— have you been here?” And then, he did the one thing Shadow could’ve told him not to do; he turned his hot gaze onto Slinger’s master, Mimic, letting his disgust show openly.

“And you. You took him, and now you just…” He sneered, balking at even saying it aloud. “You just let those mangy fuckers use him like he’s nothing? What kind of master does such a thing!”

Slinger flushed, sliding his gaze away, his long tail flicking with uncertainty.

“Sonic,” he said, hushed, “You’re very new here still, aren’t you?”

"Yes," Shadow spoke for him, drawing more energy from Sonic after his outburst. "He is. One day, to be precise. I had believed he had earned the right to pick his own meal here, perhaps get some fresh air, but it seems I was mistaken." His gaze flickered back to Slinger, softening if only for the moment. As if he was glad to see him doing at least fairly well.

"Your ways of handling slaves is something I could never wrap my mind around." Mimic raised a brow at Shadow's lack of punishment, merely just subduing the blue hedgehog instead of using any real rod or whip on him. "But I have to say, whatever you do, you make it work. Perhaps it would help your little problem pet if they caught up? I haven't yet eaten myself..."

"I don't think that'll be needed, I shall decide what to do with him later as his trainer," Shadow insisted, scowling as Mimic waved his hand at him.

"Slinger, dear heart, would you bring your master back something to eat? Go with them, I'm sure Shadow would love to make an example out of you."

Mimic ran his hands though the fur on Slinger's chest, scratching the skin underneath.

"Isn't that right, Shadow? Who am I to deny some of your best work to be of use to you?" He chuckled, malice laced underneath the lightness of his breath.

Shadow knew that Mimic was only there to spur on a possible situation of some sort, dumping the potential chaos on his hands instead while the octopus watched. A slight headache settled right between his eyes from the stress.

This could be bad, but also, what else was he to do? If he dragged Sonic back underground now, he had a feeling he would fight tooth and nail in false determination to 'rescue' his friend. That, or slowly rot away as Shadow would be forced to keep him at minimum energy until there was nothing left.

Gritting through his teeth, Shadow pulled Sonic up to face him.

"If I allow Slinger to accompany us for lunch, will you behave?"

Sonic barely refrained from rolling his eyes, feeling like he was going to be sick at the display. Slinger had enough dignity left about him that he appeared a little embarrassed, with Sonic there— the only other unbroken slave in the hall, and the only other one who'd been a part of the resistance with him. The only one who knew intimately why he was called Slinger. Now here, reduced to a plaything for the pleasure of a master, and evidently anyone else the master felt like sharing him with.

But Slinger was practiced and poised, leaning into the doting touch despite the flush under the pale fur of his muzzle, tail flicking lazily as he was petted. Despite the absolutely toxic energy Sonic felt radiating from this despicable noble, there was something...sickeningly genuine in the affection Slinger accepted, the way he returned it with a subtle nuzzle into the hand before he obeyed. When he lifted himself up, every movement seemed perfectly attuned to his master's viewing pleasure; pleasing and poised at all angles.

He was allowed gloves, ones that left his fingers exposed, but just as Shadow had accurately explained to Sonic before, he had no shoes. Not that he'd need them. The pads of his feet were tough as was a trait for all cats, and so he was unbothered by the hard tile or the heat from the areas that were quite hot from being exposed to the sun.

Sonic grit his teeth right back at Shadow, although his glare fell a little short, his energy trapped as it was. It was the only way he appeared even marginally slave-like, the forceful drooping of his quills, the tired tilt of those upright ears. But his eyes said it all to Shadow; that 'troublemaker' had been an accurate description by Mimic.

"...Yes," he muttered, and he meant that. "As long as people keep their hands to themselves. What kind of place is this? You didn't tell me—"

He'd been whispering, but Slinger sidled up beside them, causing Sonic's mouth to snap shut, which was a first.

"It's not so bad, my friend. Master Shadow—" He dipped his head low, respectfully, bright eyes reflecting his smile when he straightened again. "It's a pleasure to finally accompany you again. Sonic," he addressed him plainly, like the equals they were. "Let's go, we shouldn't keep our masters hungry."

Sonic frowned, wanted to say, he's not my master, but he could already feel Shadow's hold on the leash, and he had a feeling Shadow might've hauled him out by his neck like a dog if he said that out loud, so he just bore the humiliation and let Shadow drag him along. Slinger fell in on Sonic's other side, trapping him between himself and Shadow. Unintentionally acting as a buffer to assure that Sonic would be behaving.

Shadow was very clearly displeased, forced into a corner of his own making. Ignoring Sonic for now, Shadow decided to feed them both information first, by catching up with his prior student.

"I'm glad to see you in good health, Slinger. I assume you've been alright? I know Mimic isn't the most.. monogamous owner. You know if he's mistreating you, I'll help you." He peered over to the ocelot, noting the shine of his coat against the light, even the currently sticky parts around his thighs.

Truth be told, when he had first been assigned Slinger, Shadow had treated him largely the same as Sonic. A fighter's background, skilled and in his prime. But Slinger had met a much more terrible fate at the hands of the very man that destroyed his home, who he was to call master by the end of his training. The poor cat had been a lot more emotionally broken through the loss, something Shadow could relate to and reach out to him through...

Shadow had enjoyed his time with Slinger well enough. Slave status asides, he considered them well off friends in the rare times they got to see each other. And he seemed to tolerate Mimic well enough, the tentacled bastard..

But what he himself was particularly interested in was how he had evoked this much of a reaction from Sonic.

"When did you two meet, if I may ask..?"

The subject was cause for tension between the two old friends, Sonic going stubbornly quiet, every part of his body communicating his own displeasure. Slinger coughed quietly into his fist, awkwardly. Still, he peered over at Shadow fondly. Secretly, he slid his hand down Sonic's arm where nobody would notice, giving the hedgehog's hand a brief squeeze of reassurance.

"I'm not sure it's a subject that would interest you, master," the ocelot answered softly. It was his polite way of tipping off that it was an uncomfortably delicate memory. But it wasn't in his training to ignore a direct question, so he answered as best as he could.

"Sonic and I go back roughly a year before...well, about year or so before my service here. It's the longest either of us ever got to be acquainted with another. Usually you know someone at best for a handful of weeks, if all goes well."

It was of course no surprise to Shadow to hear the slightly forlorn way he reflected on that; even more notable than Slinger's bittersweet answer was Sonic's complete lack of one.

Slinger sensed this, and being quite good at what he did, he sought to turn the tide of the conversation. Always cool-headed and plucky, he smiled and walked a little ahead.

"I wasn't being flattering before, Sonic, when I said you were in good hands. I know better than anyone here where we came from— you've come to a place of privilege, here."

Sonic's jaw tightened, and he appeared less willing to outright fight Slinger compared to his resistance to Shadow, but he still looked entirely unconvinced.

"Privilege?" he echoed. "You call what I saw privileged?"

To his credit, Slinger didn't take open offense, laughing quietly.

"It's not always like that." Perhaps with some slight self consciousness, his long tail flicked to rest strategically just behind his rear, held low and surely hiding most of the evidence of what had happened. "And every master is different. Whoever you're intended for, it's likely they will not want to share you in such a way. Sonic, you know me. Believe me when I tell you that here, it's...a relief, to not fight every day just to make it by."

Sonic opened his mouth, most certainly to protest— but Slinger conveniently took his hand and interrupted him.

"You should come with me to get Master Shadow his meal, for practice. You're...very new." It was a kind word for essentially ‘unmanageable.'

Shadow felt some of the stress in his shoulders ease as Slinger seemed to actually be someone Sonic would mildly listen to without a struggle, thanking his past self for doing such a great job with him in the first place. Perhaps Sonic would benefit from some example this way.. but he still wasn't going to allow any of Slinger's progress he had worked up over the year retract because of Sonic. The slack on his leash was still short, and he wasn't planning on taking off the energy restraint until they were back deep within the dungeons.

He continued to let the two slaves have their back and forth as he escorted them back to the eatery, falling back into his usual solemn silence to see if Slinger would be able to throw something at Sonic that would actually stick.

An idea bubbled up to the forefront of his mind as they walked, and Shadow motioned the cat closer, oddly handing him the physical light blue leash Sonic had attached to his collar. The glowing strand in Shadow's hand disappeared off, mild light still shining from underneath the fabric collar Sonic wore— the restraint still present nonetheless.

"Your master might be onto something about you being a good influence on him. I will be watching, but do me a favor and show him the ropes, please. I believe Sonic could learn a lot from you." Shadow didn't trust Sonic to immediately run off, but he did trust Slinger, someone he knew was grateful to serve the kingdom here.

If he was correct about the feeling in his gut, Sonic would naturally ease up without the immediate presence of authority, even if it was for his own protection. And if he wanted to utilize Slinger as much as he could, he needed to step back for it to really sink in, so Sonic would be able to believe he wasn't just coerced, but truthfully devoted to his position.

"Return to me once you're done. Do you understand? This is an order for the both of you."

Sonic appeared apprehensive of having his lead handed off — which was silly, he was apprehensive of being on a lead at all — but his eyes flickered between Shadow and Slinger. It wasn't the physical leash that would stop him, but the one glittering immaterial under his collar.

"Of course, Master Shadow," Slinger replied courteously, the dip of his head elegant and polite. Sonic nodded awkwardly in acknowledgement.

For a moment, he was hesitant to leave, momentarily unaware of what would happen if out of Shadow's immediate protection. His pride was lashing its tail at that train of thought— he didn't need Shadow for protection. In fact, he was more than capable of handling that mangy fox on his own. So he made a point of stepping away, closer to Slinger. He wondered if Shadow was angling at some game, if he suspected Sonic wouldn't give his old friend trouble if he put Slinger in charge of him.

After all, if anything happened, Sonic was positive he wouldn't be the only one punished. Slinger's safety and reputation was on his own actions, and he resented the way that stayed his urge to run.

"Let's go," said Slinger pleasantly, opting to let Sonic walk with him rather than tug him along like a master. Sonic let his eyes linger reluctantly on Shadow, communicating something in his gaze, but he didn't stay long enough to let it be interpreted.

Sonic's little outburst from before had, predictably, drawn the attention of virtually the entire hall of the palace. Now that the strange, rebellious new slave was separated from the dungeon master, people let their gazes linger, and he didn't appreciate the ribald comments that began to come their way. Slinger, for his part, seemed used to the attention, unbothered by the leering or the occasional teasing beckoning toward some bored courtesan. Even half the guard weren't above staring, and Sonic let his annoyance known by meeting their eyes head on.

And yet, as Slinger paid his obeisance to the staff and made their requests, Sonic noticed that Slinger did not respond to the random jeers or offers. He doubted their hesitance to put their hands all over him was because of him, unwelcoming and prickling at Slinger's side. No...there was something else. But he couldn't pinpoint it.

Slinger put in his request, only ordering a single plate.

"Sonic?" he waved in front of him, getting his attention. "What would Master Shadow like to eat?"

"Uh." Sonic blinked, noticing the lack of options laid out before him. Was he just supposed to know what kind of food they prepared? He fell back on the only dish he knew. "There's something with spiced sausages and brown bread. I need two plates of that." Slinger blinked, cocking one large ear.

"Master Shadow's getting two plates?"

"No," Sonic frowned. "One's for me."

Slinger's eyes rounded a little. Although, he'd known Sonic from their time together before, and didn't appear entirely surprised by the insolence being shown during his first day of real training.

"Masters generally like to share their plates with their pets," he explained. "It would probably please him a great deal if you brought him one plate to pilfer from. Within reason, of course."

"But—" That was absurd, and somehow he couldn't quite strike up the image of Shadow letting himself be fed, not like these lounging, decadent royals with nothing better to do than filch grapes from the mouths of their slaves.

"One spiced sausage plate," Slinger turned and ordered, pleasantly, "Please, sir." And then, he nudged Sonic. "The staff here should also be addressed by superior honorifics. Go on."

This was ridiculous. He couldn't thank anyone here like a normal person; every interaction was going to be a practice in submission. But Slinger was watching him expectantly.

"Thank you, sir," he said, at least finding that easier than referring to Shadow— who would have coaxed that out of him with that infuriatingly calm smirk.

Slinger led them away to wait together, gesturing for Sonic to join him in kneeling on a floor cushion, for precisely this purpose. Sonic did so, but he wasn't relaxed, at all.

"Sonic," Slinger was saying, quietly as to not be overheard, now. "How on earth did you get captured? This...this place doesn't suit you."

"No kidding," Sonic hissed under his breath. "How can you look happy to be here? I'm getting out of here— you should come with me."

Slinger looked down, his lips thinning. Sonic felt dread rise in him as the big ears drew back.

"I can't do that. This is where I belong, now."

"That's not true, and you know it," Sonic said, raising his voice slightly, lowering it once more when Slinger looked up again sharply, hushing him. "This place is a nightmare, Slinger. You're telling me you're happy to be here, passed around to be used like—"

"What I like," Slinger shot back, "Is not having to scrape by the skin of my teeth every day just to survive. I like being able to lay down at night and not worry about being killed in my sleep before the sun rises. I like not worrying about when my next meal will come, or if the friends at my sides are going to be shot dead at my feet." He drew in a breath, looking down. "I appreciate the certainty of living here."

"I would rather fight on an empty stomach every day than submit like that," Sonic muttered. Slinger was shaking his head.

"It's not what you think, Sonic...Mimic has his tastes," he said, and it didn't go by Sonic that he referred to his master by name when he could get away with it. "He wanted me. But Shadow is thorough— he wouldn't have taken me on, or handed me over if he believed I was going into dangerous hands."

Sonic felt a hot new emotion settle in him; it was heavy and sticky, and twisted in his chest.

"So Shadow did train you." It wasn't a question.

"He did," Slinger said. "Is it so hard to believe? You and I have probably had very similar experiences, starting out."

"Not helping, Slinger."

"What I'm saying is, Shadow does care. I don't need to tell you that much— you've seen it, haven't you?"

Sonic met his friend's stare. His immediate response was to protest, but Slinger watched him steadily. The feline eyes were sharp and cunning, daring Sonic to lie. This was indeed the very same indomitable spirit of his friend, the best sharp shooter the resistance had ever known. He had chosen to submit himself here, but there was nothing truly broken about him.

It confused Sonic all the more.

"I don't understand," he said honestly, dropping his gaze.

"You won't," Slinger said quietly. "Probably not for some time. But I am a product of Shadow's training; you can see me, now. I'm not unhappy, Sonic. Submitting doesn't mean giving up. Giving up is allowing yourself to be broken. That's how most of the slaves here end up."

The cat tilted his chin some direction behind Sonic, indicating for him to look on and observe. He did so, and couldn't deny it. Slinger was nothing like these empty-headed pets, who were lovely and tame and charming, but had little else going on behind their eyes except to strive to please their masters. He tore his eyes away from a female slave who dozed in her mistress's lap, her exposed belly stroked as she slept and her mistress smoked and talked idly to another courtesan.

"Shadow will ensure you go to someone good. Trust in his judgment."

Sonic closed his eyes and steadied his uncertain heart.

"Do you know who I'm being trained for?" He said, meeting Slinger's inquisitive gaze. "I'm going to be given to the Prince."

And then, dead weight. The warm air of comradery between them dropped by several degrees, Slinger frozen as he stared back at him.

Sonic didn't understand the reaction, but he felt it settle like lead in his gut. Slinger was suddenly unable to look at him directly; he shut his eyes and took in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry."

Like a punch to the gut. Sonic swallowed.

"Why are you sorry?"

Slinger didn't answer him. He stood abruptly, called forth by a servant who brought them their meals on gilt plates. Slinger bowed low, respectful, but Sonic stayed where he was on the floor in a stupor.

What was going on?

Slinger beckoned him to stand and accept his portion, and Sonic felt odd taking it knowing this was meant to be an offering for Shadow, and not for himself. Slinger whispered to him as he ushered him back, the leash held loosely in his hand. His gaze on Sonic was rueful and slightly glazed over. Sonic was no longer concerned with the leering gazes of the lazy nobles, who raked their eyes over his body.

"Be careful, Sonic. If you truly are meant to join the household of the Prince, you have to watch yourself."

"Why?" he asked, keeping his voice low. "What's gonna happen to me?"

"I don't know," he said, regretfully. "I don't know. But I can tell you this much; you and I are not the only resistance fighters who have been captured by the palace. We're just the only ones to have been made into slaves." He glanced around briefly. "The Prince has allies, one in particular to the West who's helping him turn the tide of this conflict. If you're going to become his, it's possible that—"

Sonic strained to hear the rest of what he said, but Slinger had snapped his mouth shut. They were now within earshot of Mimic and Shadow. He swallowed and turned his eyes back onto Sonic, smiling, but it just seemed sad.

"Stay safe, my friend. Listen to Shadow, and follow his guidance. If you understand or trust in nothing else— trust in him."

Slinger left his side, leaving Sonic with more unanswered questions buzzing through him. The ocelot knelt with practiced, perfect form by his lounging master's side, offering the gilt plate of various spiced meats, cheeses, and fruit. Sonic understood now why he'd insisted on the one plate— Mimic hand fed a morsel of cheese to him, which Slinger took between his sharp teeth harmlessly. He let his lips brush teasingly over Mimic's fingers, rewarded for his good behavior with a hand under his furred chin.

Sonic couldn't imagine doing such a thing with Shadow.

The uncertainty of his conversation with Slinger had him almost craving the familiar company again. With Shadow, when he was uncertain, he could expect guidance. Even if Shadow planned to punish him later, even if he was furious, Sonic at least knew what he could expect from the other hedgehog. He couldn't say the same for anyone else in this palace.

Attempting to mirror Slinger's example, somewhat, he replicated a slightly less amorous version of the gesture, offering Shadow the one plate. This wouldn't have felt as servile as it did if Shadow hadn't just had his hands all over him earlier.

"For you," he said, green eyes glancing up at him and not looking down as what would have been most appropriate, checking for approval. "Sir."

Shadow had been watching them all the while, ignoring the majority of Mimic's tries for conversation as he waited. Whatever they were talking about, Shadow had been right about Sonic being more susceptible to it. And coming back with the single plate... he had no doubt that was Slinger's suggestion.

He made a mental note to get something to Mimic for the ocelot to have, later, as thanks.

"..Very good." Shadow took the plate from Sonic's hands, the same entrée as last time. He would have to mention his own preferences to Sonic sometime, when he wasn't being such a handful. He was acknowledgeable at best, and now had to decide whether he wanted to keep Sonic up here and learn a bit more now that his mood had simmered, or if he should save it for later and bring him back downstairs.

But he also wasn't an idiot.

Sonic had already turned his fate in a certain direction today, now he could decide how quickly he met it.

"So? Whatever it was you two talked about, what did you think of it? Do you think your friend made sense?" It was a way for Shadow to gauge how open Sonic was to the very concept of what he was to become, how intense he needed to be when it came time for the consequences. "Be honest."

The tension between Shadow and himself was unmistakable— he knew better than to think he’d gotten out of whatever consequence he’d earned himself for his outburst before. But at least he wasn’t subject to the invasive leering of the other courtesans, this way.

He settled in beside Shadow. Clearly, whatever they’d talked about had shaken the hedgehog, and he didn’t appear particularly keen on opening up about it, either. He eyed Mimic and Slinger to the side, and he looked for all the world that he’d not have taken that morsel with as gentle a mouth as Slinger had.

“I…don’t know,” he answered, honestly as Shadow had asked him to. “I can’t understand it, not completely.”

He couldn’t stop thinking of earlier, for some reason. When Shadow had played his body, he had seemed to pull out every unwilling reaction from him. Even now, Sonic felt his body nearly tingling from the phantom touch. It had barely taken anything at all for Shadow to have him exposed— but could he still be so aroused if he was being used, the way Slinger had?

Shadow, doing…that to him.

He looked determinedly everywhere but at the darker hedgehog, his heartbeat kicking up a few notches.

“I mean— the way he said it, I suppose it made sense. I get why. I just don’t know if…”

I don’t know if I have it in me. He didn’t say that part aloud, but he felt that Shadow would probably understand it regardless. And that was a strange thought. Knowing Shadow would know. The feeling that he’d be understood.

“I know what you want me to say,” he said, in a quieter voice, at least having the wherewithal to not be loud about it with others around. “But I can’t just say what I don’t mean. I believe Slinger when he told me he was…content, here.”

Shadow paused, obviously in thought. He hadn't expected Sonic to be so dormant about it, perhaps it was the restraint on his neck keeping him meek. But regardless, this was nothing like the snap of true anger Sonic had drawled out before towards the fox or even Mimic just a few minutes ago.

There was some level of defeat he held, the ideals forced in front of him unwilling to budge even if they did not meet Sonic's own morals. And objectively, he obviously understood it, even if he didn't realize how realistic they were put into practice.

And more practice was certainly in the cards for them.

Shadow picked a sausage off the plate, eyeing it before mirroring what he had done this morning, taking the first bite off the meat first before offering the other half in front of Sonic himself. Not if he would take it, but how.

"It's good to see you have some rationality in your head. And unlike other trainers, I would only want you to say what you mean. Talking the talk is worth nothing if there's no thought backing it up."

It was clear Sonic wasn't much of a talker, anyways. He was very action based, his body language giving it all away for him. The physical exam, the bath, and now this just enforced it. If Sonic was to become a fulfilling slave, Shadow would have to make sure that he would jump in without thinking, retrain the trigger muscle in him to please instead of punch.

He already knew what might be best when they went back down to the dungeons, but for now he would let Sonic enjoy the daylight while it lasted. At least until they were finished with their meal.

Shadow continued to feed Sonic bits and pieces off the plate as they properly sat down somewhere, always taking a bite of his own first before holding his fingers out for Sonic to collect the remainder.

"Do you believe I'm going to hurt you?" He asked plainly, legs crossed in his seat.

Sonic took the morsels offered to him gingerly between his fingers. It would be a long time until he’d be eating out of anyone’s hand — if ever, Shadow had to consider when contended with the hedgehog’s stubborn refusal to be treated like the pet he was meant to be — but he accepted the feeding this way. Once or twice his eyes roamed the hall, lingering on the forms of the other slaves, clearly trying to imagine himself in their place. And failing, by the way he drew himself up tighter and looked back at Shadow.

“I believe you could,” he responded. “I don’t believe it’s beneath you to hurt me, if you needed to.”

He wanted to say, you already have hurt me, and didn’t. The first night they’d met; his capture. His eyes met Shadow’s, lacking the distinct anger of before that had burned in him, that had him pulling at the leash to rip apart men twice his size he’d believed had been hurting someone. Even settled by Shadow’s side, leashed and collared, Shadow saw an exaggerated similarity in him with Slinger; a distinct dignity that he’d probably never lose, even if he fully submitted himself. Except that ideal seemed so far-fetched in the hedgehog that hadn’t seemed quite so in the ocelot.

And still, Sonic was sitting of his volition, sharing food with him. It could’ve been the ease of two friends, were they social equals, for surely a master and slave did not engage in intellectual exchanges this way.

“I think you would if you thought it would teach me something.” He said it frankly. “But it wouldn’t— so you won’t waste the effort trying. No, I’m not afraid of you hurting me.”

I’m afraid of gentleness. He paused in the moment before he consumed the last of what was offered to him, wordlessly.

"You're correct. I want you to keep that in mind, tonight."

Shadow alluded to the consequences he would surely enforce, not saying anything else after the fact. He silently got up, leaving the discarded plate for a cleaning servant to retrieve as he pulled Sonic up with him by the leash. 

Chapter Text

The trip back down through the hallways and into the dungeon was silent, the daylight fading behind them as the sound in the stairway that grew smaller and more grungy echoing off the stone walls and pebbled floor. Shadow was excellent at the stoic act, no emotion to be traced to give way to anything he was potentially thinking about even as he merely dropped Sonic back off in his proper room, clipping off the leash and finally-- the glowing restraint around his neck disappearing into thin air as well.

"I will be back." Was all he said as he left Sonic alone, locking the door from the outside. Back when? In a few minutes? Hours? The next day?

Shadow sighed as he turned around, blowing past his office and into another room to gather the supplies he needed. However long it would take him, he supposed. He was just thankful they had broken the physical barrier between them earlier, he would've hated to have a punishment be the first time Sonic would remember his touch.

If they had left the palace just upstairs during daylight, night had definitely fallen by now. The walls grew colder than usual, any background noise around the catacombs before dying down into silence as guards left their posts and the graveyard shift ones began their shift alone rather than in pairs.

And Shadow was finally walking back to Sonic's room, a decently sized messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He had plans for how he wanted Sonic's punishment to go tonight, and he knew Sonic wouldn't be compliant like he had been on the examination table in the morning, taking it without restraint. Maybe some day, but far from now.

The only warning Sonic got for his presence was the sound of the key unlocking the mechanism in the door, his boots making minimal noise on the stone floor as he locked them back in. He didn't bother to greet Sonic yet either, lighting a few candles he had brought around the room so Sonic could properly see him.

Sonic had waited in as the already dim light of the dungeons became darker, and the temperature dropped. There was nothing else he could do but wait.

Despite the easy exchange between them upstairs when Shadow had wanted honest answers out of him, he knew what was coming now.

Not what exactly was coming, but something.

He’d been curled up on the bed in a half ball, after he’d paced restlessly for over an hour, expecting Shadow back sooner. Normally when he was bored, he’d just go run somewhere, find somewhere private outside to nap, away from the distress… He couldn’t have that anymore. Not here. But it meant he was alert when Shadow did return.

Good as his senses were, Shadow was astonishingly silent, Sonic’s ear not twitching to the sound of his arrival until the door was already open. He sat up warily, eyes gravitating toward the bag, with nervous anticipation curling in his belly.

He watched Shadow wordlessly move around, slowly sliding down until his feet hit the hard floor. He’d known this was coming, and he felt insane that he waited here for it. A punishment he didn’t feel he deserved.

Gritting his teeth, he decided to face it head on. He’d always chosen flight over fight, but now he had nowhere to run.

“Sir,” he addressed him, tense. “Is this because of Slinger?” Shadow knew what he meant; because of his interruption, his threat to a courtesan. Sonic squared his shoulders, preparing for whatever was coming his way.

It wasn’t that he trusted Shadow not to hurt him. It was a calm assessment of what he believed he knew of the trainer. But even still, doubt tickled at his mind. Shadow could still hurt him, and would have virtually nothing stopping him in this locked room.

But Sonic could’ve handled pain. He wasn’t so sure that’s what Shadow had planned for him, and that was what made him nervous.

"No," Shadow stated quietly, setting the bag he carried down on the table and rummaging around the inside contents. "On the bed, please. Face up." He ordered, waiting for the commands to be followed before making any more movements.

Even death seemed like it could not be an escape from this place, unyielding and grim. As soon as Sonic had lied down on his back, Shadow was over him, tying a black cloth around his eyes first before chaining four leather cuffs to the end of each corner of the bed, and then taking each of Sonic's wrists and ankles and binding them in the restraints. The grip was tight around his skin, only biting if he pulled against it.

"No," Shadow had repeated again, only now taking the time to answer Sonic's previous question. "No, no... this is because of you, and your behavior."

Footsteps. Shadow had stepped away from the bed, the sounds of various objects rolling and scraping against the wooden bedside table becoming the loudest noise until Shadow would speak again, delicately. It was clear he wasn't having a conversation with Sonic, or lightly scolding him, or even correcting him.

This was Shadow exuding power over Sonic, an amplification of the power imbalance between them.

"You were so good this morning..." Something tapped across the wood, a few flat smacks. Rustling. "Perhaps I had misjudged you. I know it's been a lot for you to take in, but something about you... you don't belong in a place like this." Like I do, was implied. "I understand. The air down here is stuffy, it's cold, it wears on your psyche."

Something then lightly tapped and dragged down Sonic's chest, trailing down his sternum to the bottom of those ribs, highlighted by the way his flesh pulled naturally with the gravity. The object should've been familiar enough for Sonic to place it, a simple riding crop tracing along the patterns of where peach fur met blue.

"There's a good reason for that. It's to break people down. A denial of things like a breeze of wind, or sunlight. It's depressing. So I give you an inch, undeserving as it may be. You've hardly done the bare minimum of getting by, but what more should I expect from someone who bites like they were feral? I gave you an inch,"

Smack!

Shadow repeated himself, the lightest of swats landing over Sonic's chest, the force behind it not nearly enough to cause legitimate pain. Only surprise-- to grab his attention, make sure he was listening.

"And you took a mile. Typical of the Blue Phantom, tch." He clicked his tongue in his mouth, distasteful. "You didn't just disobey me, or disregard my orders. It's a lot simpler than that. You just refused to listen, that's all."

Then the riding crop dipped lower, across Sonic's stomach and over his pouch, moving in tiny circles between his legs.

"Remember when you told me the truth, this morning? About your virginity?" Shadow's voice took on another element, reminiscent on Sonic's body under his hand. "What if I had refused to listen to you? Continued the plan of what I wanted, because it's what I thought was correct? No matter how much you would ask me not to otherwise, if I had entered you forcefully because I wanted to? You were already melting under me. What if, Sonic, I had taken a little more, because I just had you there."

The tip of the crop pushed down on the underside of Sonic's tail, daring to slide up towards the base where it connected to the rest of his body if it dare moved away.

Sonic’s body was rigid from the moment he’d climbed onto the bed. He’d done it with his eyes fiercely on Shadow, like he was the one doing the testing. Curious what Shadow would do. It was somehow more defiant than if he’d attempted to run. He tried hard to glare from behind the blindfold, which he’d jerked back from reflexively, not liking having something over his face in such a way.

The tension hit him even harder as Shadow spoke. Swallowing thickly, unease threaded throughout his body. The slide of that infuriating tool, his skin twitching fractiously in response to the stroking. That flat chest rose and fell harder, the clink of restraints ringing as he jerked.

He wasn’t hurt…not yet.

As if in response to the word, feral, he bared his teeth, but still he said nothing. This was a completely different Shadow than the one he’d come to know over the past two days. The air had become thick, suffocating. That level voice was controlled, domineering in a way the Captain of the guard, or the Prince, or that idiot courtesan could only beg to replicate, and it was working to send a violent shiver down Sonic’s strung up body.

His first sound— a choked off whimper, quickly snapped shut between his teeth when it was applied between his legs. His lower body jerked, his breathing audible now, his nerves heightened tenfold by the fact that he couldn’t see.

“No,” he gasped, unable to hide himself this way, mortified that Shadow was probably looking under his tail. Not that he could see it for himself. “That’s—“

This wasn’t what he’d expected. Then again, he’d had virtually no frame of reference to even guess at what Shadow would plan for his punishment, but this was beyond his expectations. His wires were all crossed— trepidation and excitement and fear and arousal were all miscommunicating with each other.

Sonic forced his body flat against the bed, trying hard not to react again, but he was infrequently calm even under the best of circumstances, a fractious and restless thing except only in sleep. His knees tried to pull together, and couldn’t.

“Is that what you’ll do,” he asked, voice unsteady. “Because I disobeyed you?”

"Do you think that's what I should do?" Shadow immediately quipped back, the riding crop lifting up again and giving Sonic another light swat over one of his inner thighs, Shadow watching the muscle underneath twitching at the touch.

Shadow walked around to the other side of the bed, the light sound of gloves being pulled off and softly dropping to the floor. He traced the tips of his well-kept claws just barely down Sonic's side, counting the ribs once more, the dip of his waist that jutted out into his hip bone.

"If that's what I want to do? Because I thought you deserved it? Or maybe I believe I'm entitled to you as nothing but property, something to fuck and throw away when I finish inside you? Because after this morning, I'm convinced that you would probably enjoy it anyways. You'll take whatever master, whatever cock you can get at, I bet."

The bed suddenly shifted with weight, and something new and heavy on the mattress.

"After all," Shadow pondered out loud, bare hands drawing up Sonic's thighs but never actually coming close to touching directly between them, "To take without consideration, mindlessly, is to be selfish, is it not?" He asked him as he sat down between Sonic's legs, grabbing ahold of the riding crop again to brush over where he knew something growing was hiding. "And pleasure is nothing but selfish."

Leaning down over Sonic's body, Shadow ditched the tool aside to finally place a hand on him, using a similar method from the physical earlier. A single thumb brushed up the blue fur, exposing the slit and antagonizing the sensitive flesh with slow, repetitive strokes.

"That's why your body feels so hot against my touch, why your hips buck up like you're in heat towards me. The minute something feels good, you want it and you take it without self control. Am I wrong to assume all that about you? Answer me."

Sonic’s reaction was violent. He pulled hard against his restraints — later, there would be angry red welts there, if he kept it up. The sound he made was agonized and high pitched, blood flushing his cheeks hotly under the blindfold.

Shadow’s words terrified him, as equally as they roused him fiercely. He did begin to panic, now. The idea that Shadow would use him and degrade him like any common slave, and would wash his hands of him after—

“You’re wrong!“ he cried out, even as his sheath filled with blood, swelling and growing hot. It was too early to break down like this, so he called hard on his self control, but that idea was as impossible as flying without wings with Shadow’s bare hand exposing him. “I’m not like that! I’m not like them.”

The thought of those three, strange courtesans doing to him what Slinger had done to him…it genuinely churned his stomach to the point of nausea. He would have kicked and bitten had they tried to touch him, even if they’d been more pleasant than they had with Slinger. It contrasted heavily with his experience this morning— Stubborn and angry as he’d been, it had been his confusing and considerate keeper.

If Shadow threw him to strangers like that, he wouldn’t be able to handle that.

“Not like that,” he said, panic spiking his voice. “Not to throw me away. Not as punishment—“ He fought again, tipping his head away, pressing into the belly of his underarm, the tip of his shy length glistening at the entrance of his pouch. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me—!”

And it would hurt if Shadow ever tossed him away like that, defiled his body for no reason other than to defile it. Not like this morning; going all the way hadn’t been necessary. He had no medical reason to bring Sonic off in his hand like that, or to crawl up behind him and lick his ear. It had weighed heavy on his mind all day, but he believed now with absolute certainty that Shadow had done it for other reasons entirely. He’d done it because he wanted to, and that at least was not exclusive to a master and slave. That was something anyone could’ve done. Something Sonic could have done, if he’d ever had the chance before now.

"And why should I listen to you? We hardly know each other. And unlike you, I can do whatever I desire without consequence. So really, I get why you disregarded my conditions on bringing you up there. We owe each other nothing." Shadow pushed his palm a bit harder against the pouch, keeping the pressure there, threatening to continue the assault.

Reaching his other hand up, Shadow hooked his fingers around the edge of Sonic's blindfold and pulled forward, ripping the dark fabric away from his face as he looked up at the bound hedgehog.

"..unless." Shadow then sat back, taking his hands completely off of Sonic, but remaining where he was between his legs, able to go back at any given moment. "You can admit you were exactly like the men taking your friend in the court today. Not in the literal, or even moral sense, but in nature."

Red eyes narrowed in the dim light, dilating with the flickering flames from the corner. "I could care less about you disobeying me. I do not care about how hard a fight you put up, or how strong you pull against the leash. You disregarded me, you had no self control. You took advantage of my generosity, recklessly, even though you clearly understand the kinds of things I could subject you to if I simply wanted it."

Shadow leaned against the side of one of Sonic's open legs, nudging his muzzle against him so delicately, it was out of place. The action felt far too loving, too sincere for everything he had put Sonic through so far. A sense of yearning, almost. Like Shadow wanted to bring himself to believe Sonic's pleas, but was unsure on how much trust he could put in them.

"I could make you do anything I wanted, in this place, at my whims. Do you think you're capable of taking responsibility for your actions? Of a genuine apology? Answer."

Sonic had begun shaking his head, yelping quietly in surprise when the blindfold was ripped away. His eyes were huge down at Shadow, and in the dim candle lighting, they were glassy. His breathing was frantic.

Shadow had ripped away all kindness he’d shown him throughout his imprisonment so far— except for the muzzle to his thigh, confusing him. He squeezed his eyes shut and chewed his lip. His cock was partially exposed, humiliating him. And yet the fear of what Shadow was implicating was real.

“How?” he gasped. “I was trying to help him! I’m not— I didn’t know!”

He hadn’t known. Not until Slinger had opened his eyes to the unpleasant, ugly truth of his own willing submission.

What Shadow was insinuating…that ate him up something awful.

“Don’t do this to me,” he said, more quietly. He said it in the same way he’d said, not the tub. “Shadow— not you.” He almost winced when he said it, forcing his eyes open again. By now he’d broken out into a sweat, and arousal swam in his head, along with the misery of what Shadow was now putting him through. “What do you want me to say?” he cried out. “That I’m ignorant? That I’m arrogant?”

Sonic had heard that one before. His pride his most crippling vice; his own self assured arrogance the cherry on top. Never had he seen these things as wrong. Until now.

Shadow gave him that same smirk, that damned smirk, curling the one corner of his mouth up as the other edge of his lips pressed against his thigh, still. "No. But I think you already realize you agree. That you made a mistake, that you intentionally threw away any respect for me the moment it became inconvenient for you."

He then lightly pressed a kiss a bit higher up on his leg, keeping eye contact with Sonic all the while. "You've been awfully inconvenient for me these past days. Or have you taken me for a fool? By the way you're acting, did you think of me any different? You told me you weren't afraid of me hurting you. Was that fact expendable to you?"

Arrogant? Absolutely. Ignorant? Without a doubt. Sonic would have to learn how to function in this new world, and Shadow was his only guide, the only one there to hold his hand through the darkness. He had to chisel away at him, knock the Blue Phantom down a few pegs to truly open up his mind, to let himself go into submission at Shadow's hands. To be able to think with safety and not just heroism in his mind, to recognize the ways people functioned around here unless he be killed.

He had to realize Shadow was here to help. But not in the way he might've wanted, but needed.

"I don't want to hurt you, Sonic." Shadow said, lifting his head away from using Sonic's thigh as a pillow and sitting up properly again. "But for me to give you permissions, to trust you, to show you what a relationship between a master and slave should be like, I need you to not abuse the kindness I give you. Are you listening to me, now?"

Now, the sound of the chains of the restraints were rattling; Sonic was shaking all over. His breathing was hitched and uneven, as if he were crying without tears. With an audible swallow, he nodded slowly in answer to Shadow, his eyes focused on the ceiling.

His fists were clenched so tightly that his claws would have drawn blood had Shadow not clipped them yesterday. Bruising was already blooming around his wrists, red and bitten.

Sonic’s thighs trembled around Shadow, and he was blinking rapidly now, ears pressed flat against his head.

“I didn’t…that isn’t what I meant to do,” he said, his voice hoarse. Shadow was right, and that’s what stung most of all. Sonic had absolutely taken for granted that Shadow would tolerate anything from him under the guise of a learning curve. He hadn’t even thought of him when he’d spotted Slinger. He’d simply reacted. That was chastening.

Squeezing his eyes shut again, because he felt beyond overwhelmed, Sonic swallowed a whine that threatened to escape his throat.

“I’m sorry.”

His first apology. He’d never said it, because he’d never felt it since being here. He’d felt allowed his own frustration, his own resentment. But now he didn’t know where to aim all of that, or where it fit alongside the conflicting feeling of wanting so badly to trust the very person who had captured him. It was breaking his mind apart trying to parse it out.

Sonic opened his eyes, dark green gaze sliding back down to Shadow, refusing to let the tears fall. He’d be beyond degradation if he cried in front of him, now, but he felt close enough.

Ah. There it is.

It wasn't a perfect apology by any means, but it was a start.

"I am your master as it stands, Sonic. You shouldn't be afraid of me, but you cannot last here without me, either. This will only be as painful as you make it out to be." Shadow climbed up over Sonic, wiping the welled up tears in the corners of his eyes away before kissing over his cheek.

"Shh.. you're alright.." He hushed him, brushing his lips down parts of Sonic's body as he dipped his head back down to eventually climb between Sonic's legs again. Wherever the riding crop had chastened, Shadow laid a kiss, like the gesture was his own apology in a way for the mild abuse.

He took extra time getting over Sonic's belly and below, gradually becoming less and less modest with the initially comforting touches as he was kissing large circles around that ever so forgotten pouch, dancing around what called for his direct attention again. But Shadow truly was following the path he had carved out with the crop earlier, dipping even farther down to run the flat of his tongue against the underside of Sonic's tail. He quickly gave the little hole there a little peck, bobbing his head back up and hovering over the half-exposed cock, waiting.

Shadow thought about asking for explicit consent.. but this was still part of the punishment, so to speak. He had gotten Sonic to at least realize where he went wrong, and even if there was no title attached to the actual apology, he had wrung it out of him towards the near end of crying about it. There had to be so much turmoil inside Sonic right now that Shadow had worked up, and it was the perfect time to get more in his head with physical affection when all those natural defenses were crumbled in the moment.

"If you're ever going to be selfish, it should be like this. With me." Shadow glanced up at Sonic one more time before descending his mouth around the half-length, engulfing the slit in it's entirety as he opened his jaw up around him.

Sonic’s cry came from a deep place in him, his body thrashing again when Shadow’s mouth applied itself directly onto him. That length, with nowhere to go, slipped further, deeper into Shadow’s wonderful, hot mouth.

“Shadow!” he yelped, in a voice like he’d been struck, the restraints rattling dangerously. He was barely contained by them, a small spill of fluid washing over Shadow’s tongue, a prelude.

Sonic had experience in handling pain, extreme pain. He’d been burnt, he’d had bones broken, he’d been beaten until blood vessels gave way under his skin, he’d been tortured. He’d learned from a young age how to tolerate pain, had it beaten into him by his less than kind guardians to not give his captors the satisfaction of his suffering.

But this…he had no recourse for how to handle pleasure.

His cock throbbed in Shadow’s mouth, too much pleasure, too much everything at once, the entrance to his body still warm from the shocking press of lips there. Shadow was overwhelming him with so many new sensations he’d never even fantasized about, this type of stimulation not something he’d considered having done to him. Particularly not by Shadow.

He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to admit that he wanted this, but something about that felt like signing his death warrant.

“Please,” he said on a choked exhale, unable to be still even if he’d tried, and he was trying. “Shadow, I’m sorry,” he said again, and he didn’t know what he was apologizing for anymore. He just felt sorry.

Sonic wanted Shadow to show him more. He wanted to take a hold of the selfishness Shadow would allow, from his position of subservience which was prescribed to be forcibly selfless. To serve others…he was used to serving others. His entire purpose had been dedicated to others, protecting them, feeding them, anything he could do. And now Shadow would break him down, remold him into an entirely new world of service he didn’t understand.

Encouraging the rest of Sonic's length to come out and pressing the tip around his soft palette for a moment, Shadow slowly pulled back up and off to talk. On the complete opposite side physically, Shadow was calm, collected as he normally was, bringing a hand up to grasp around and stroke up the shaft while his mouth wasn't on it. 

"When we're done with this, I will forgive you. I don't expect perfection from you, especially this early on, but I do expect you to be able to learn. Any owner worthy of a slave will be appreciative of a servant who admits their faults." Shadow swiped a thumb over the leaking tip, purring a low hum of approval at the way the flesh bobbed back in his hold. "Such behavior should be rewarded. Just as if your master took responsibility of his own to you. Pleasure is selfish, but you cannot take without someone else to give."

Give. Give in, giving a gift, giving up. It was a strange concept, something so one-sided yet with two different parties participating. And Shadow was quickly noticing that Sonic took physical experiences the best, that putting the hedgehog under him through something literal that forced him to see things in a different light stuck the most. It showed this morning in the exam, it showed when Slinger had talked to him and Sonic had brought Shadow the single plate to share for lunch. And it was showing now, with the way his back arched up against the blankets they were on top of, how a little more pre dribbled down Shadow's hand.

And Shadow was taking as much as he could get, taking Sonic back down into his mouth and down to the back of his throat, wrapping his tongue around what he could as he sucked him off. Even if Sonic was bound to the bed, Shadow's hands still came up and pushed his thighs out just a little wider, adding tension to the sensitive flesh as he swallowed down the excess saliva gathering in his cheeks.

Sonic would learn, he had no doubt about that. What it meant to be a bed slave, what the position really meant from the inside. How he would have to learn how to use his body, to be able to withstand what Shadow would put him through, testing his limits far beyond the likes of a soldier or rebel. Shadow would just have to show him through example, and then see if he could replicate it.

Sonic facilitated between pressing himself flat to the bed and thrusting up against that teasing mouth, as much as he could. He felt like Shadow was torturing him, and now the wetness in his eyes squeezed out in the corners when he shut his eyes tightly. The sight of Shadow bending down, taking it into his mouth was too much to handle.

He wanted to hate him for it. He wanted to scream at him, resent him for forcing this kind of pleasure out of him. Sonic had been fine before with never getting to know this. He’d been content even in the self denial, comfortable in the exclusion away from normal contact and normal relationships. He’d never felt that a part of him was missing, even if he’d sometimes ached at night alone.

And Shadow had ripped all of that away from him.

Was this how Slinger broke down? Had Shadow touched him like this? Played his body so gently when he expected violence? Sonic had thwarted the whip, not expecting a mouth to take its place.

That devilish mouth. Sonic hadn’t even dreamt of this kind of pleasure, how unbearably good his tongue was and the tightness of his lips. His cock throbbed incessantly, already feeling close, his inexperience making him ready to spill. But he was nothing if not stubborn, trying hard to hold back. He wasn’t sure why…perhaps the last of his resolve to not be played by Shadow so effortlessly, or perhaps to prolong the act, beside himself from how good it was. The self loathing couldn’t catch up to him, not yet.

He was moaning now, loud and unable to stop it.

“Oh, fucking Chaos—“ he whimpered. How was he supposed to get used to this? How could anyone last long? Was it just Shadow, or his inexperience? “Is this a reward or a punishment?” he strained to ask.

Now he had the restraints he hadn’t had this morning, when he wanted them as an excuse to have something to fight against. Now he had them, and yet instinct was telling him to get his hands on Shadow and exact revenge.

There was a questionable glint in Shadow's eyes as he nuzzled himself down all the way until his mouth met Sonic's pelvis, only following his movements as he tried to pull away and taking it shockingly well when the rest fucked back up towards him. But even Shadow had to breathe some time, a heavy gasp breaking from his lungs as he pulled back up again.

Even when his voice was a bit raspier than usual when he spoke, it was the same tease Sonic had to become familiar with by now, the smugness it carried all the same.

"You'll find that those two things can be interchangeable with each other, contextually. A double edged sword--" Shadow grunted as he cleared his throat properly, still finding ways to stimulate Sonic as he talked whether it be with his hand or with long licks of his tongue. "--a punishment for disregarding your master. A reward for owning up to your wrongdoings. Pain and pleasure are two veins from the same arm, my pet." He was edging into possessive territory, a different kind of darker toned desperation he was hiding from Sonic that was not so excessively lewd.

Shadow then briefly turned his head, as if to exaggerate his point, sucked a deep hickey onto Sonic's thigh, intentionally making a mark that would last as he nibbled over the skin with his teeth, pinching slightly as he dragged himself back up with a pop, edging Sonic a little bit longer this way. He could tell he was close, the way Sonic's entire body was tensing up like a spring under pressure waiting to snap, the thrum of his heartbeat under that too thin chest, the way his breath was hitching and catching on lost words…

"I thought about what I would do to you, for your mistakes. I know I wanted you to apologize, but I knew I wasn't going to get that out of just conversation." Shadow took two fingers and spread the wet fur he had marked to see the love bite underneath he had just made bruising, giving it one more suckle before he was satisfied with the color. "Your official punishment was me touching you, physically gutting it out of you." Another thing he was only right about, Sonic knew that. His attention then turned back to the weeping cock in front of him, and if Sonic was listening close he could've heard a quiet moan before Shadow finished his sentence.

"Your reward is that you get to cum for me."

Predictably, Shadow sank his mouth back down over Sonic one last time, letting him wretch and writhe under him, the clink and pull of the cuffs on the bedposts only spurring Shadow further to milk him for all he was worth. He wanted Sonic tired and shaking, unable to find anywhere else suitable to rest than back into Shadow's hold.

The way Shadow’s roughened voice laid it all out was leaving Sonic in shambles. His lust-addled head spun with it all, certainly feeling that Shadow was right about punishment and reward feeling one in the same. In the way that Sonic hadn’t minded the use of the crop by Shadow’s hand the way he’d minded it from the Captain of the guard. The Captain, too, had seen to it to drag the instrument over interesting parts of his body, once he’d been largely immobilized by the rope restraints of his men.

He’d stepped in close, perhaps hoping to intimidate, and pressed the end between Sonic’s legs before dragging it back up to tilt his chin up with it, wearing a sneer—

And then Sonic had twisted his head and snapped it clean in half between his teeth. He’d earned himself a blow to the mouth, for that, but he’d liked the satisfaction it gave him.

In Shadow’s hands, the crop was transformed somehow, might as well have been the light smack of a hand, or trailing fingers, its use less crude and instead achingly sensual. And just as punishment and reward blurred, so seemed pain and pleasure to, also. The red, bruising weals at his wrists and ankles didn’t seem to detract from what was being done with him. The bite at his thigh throbbed, tart pain traveling over his skin when Shadow pressed his fingers over it, and yet that seemed enhanced by the throbbing between his legs, which the two spots did so in tandem. He flushed, darkly humiliated— a mark.

“Shadow—“

If he hadn’t apologized, would Shadow have left him here? Would he have brought him this far, made him this twisted up with need? Would he have left him for so long that pleasure melded only into pain? He turned his head into his arm and stifled a sound like a dry sob, wanting so badly to cum suddenly — like Shadow might change his mind, leave him dangling here — in a way he’d fought this morning with Shadow’s hand. Now he chased orgasm, encouraged by the lovely, sharp-edged voice that had taken on some body-shuddering tone he couldn’t pinpoint the emotion of. It was dark; darker than he’d ever heard anyone speak, and it caused a trickle of fear like a trail of sweat down his back.

And then any other thought was obliterated; Sonic came, harder than he ever had in his life. He didn’t have the self control or the mindpower to sit still. He did as Shadow bid, acting out selfishly without even dreaming of self restraint at the paramount of his pleasure, spilling down Shadow’s throat.

His cry was all animal, at the last second wrenching his eyes open to glance back down to Shadow from his vantage with his face still half hidden into his arm, green eyes entirely black in the dim sleeping chambers.

Bitter saltiness flowed over Shadow's tongue, a near instinct to collect what he could in his mouth and swallow the excess as his hand grabbed up and made sure every last drop spilt out of his partner. He briefly wondered if he should make a show of the mess, rubbing Sonic's face in the aftermath in every sense but literal.

Most likely he was going to be tired out, perhaps a bit hazy in the mind. Shadow decided no, there would be other times to leave Sonic a mess, and he felt like keeping the clean up to a minimum right now.

Swallowing the rest, Shadow made sure to clean up any trickle that might've spilled out past his mouth, licking everything clean and sitting back up only when he was satisfied with his work. He uncuffed Sonic's ankles from their cuffs first, letting the limp limbs hit the bed before he released his wrists as well, taking a gentle moment to kiss over the crease of skin that had been rubbed raw-- a silent apology.

"Thank you," A ghost of a whisper left his lips, whether from his own discretion or the abuse of his own throat, it was probably both.

Reaching over for his bag on the bedside table, Shadow pulled out a small jar of salve and a roll of bandage, making space for himself on one side of the bed as he quietly took one of Sonic's wrists to start and went to work on the aftercare process. After tending to his other hand as well, he sounded a lot more like his usual self the next time he spoke.

"You are forgiven. I hope in the future, you can come to me with an open mind." The rest was implied. Have you learned your lesson?

Sonic’s limbs twitched with every shackle unlocked, struggling to try and sit up even with his exhaustion, every reaction unusually sluggish. He appeared, for some reason, a little surprised when Shadow tended to the self-inflicted abrasions.

Being pulled slowly from the high of climax, Sonic watched him curiously, although he was looking everywhere but at Shadow’s face.

…It was so not fair how normal Shadow sounded, again, while Sonic was still breathing raggedly, his heart still jackhammering in his chest. His fingers twitched a little as his wrists were wrapped.

“Okay,” he rasped, coughing quietly, his voice more roughened than he’d anticipated. Pulling his wrapped wrists back, he looked it over, the gesture…unexpectedly kind, even from Shadow. He’d expected to be left with them as reminders. Perhaps the wrapping was that reminder.

Sonic’s eyes finally drew themselves back up, meeting his gaze. His ears were tense, but his quills, for once, were lax.

“What Slinger was doing, with those men…” he said, slowly, “All of them, and out in front of everyone like that…I don’t think I can ever do that, even if you made me unafraid of—“ He gestured, vaguely, to their general surroundings, and to Shadow, indicating what had just happened. “—all of this.” His ears fell, uncomfortable talking about this, but Shadow wanted his honesty, didn’t he?

“And I’m certain that you’ll still end up…” Being disappointed. He didn’t say that. “…I don’t know,” he finished, lamely, not able to say with his whole chest what was on his mind. He slid his gaze back down, looking over the bandages.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said instead, determined to hide the weakness that had made him say such a thing, lifting up one arm.

"I didn't," The smirk Shadow wore before melted into a smile, if only for a moment. "But I wanted to." He took Sonic's arm to slowly lower it back down, like if he moved too quickly it would cause more harm. It was bizarre how he noticed Sonic could take quick peaks of him when he was down between his legs, but the second it was over he got embarrassed like he didn't want to be in the same room together, anymore.

Like it was an uncovered fragility Sonic himself was unaware of, unsure how to cover it back up. So the best he could manage was pretend it wasn't there, and force normalcy anyways.

"Slinger?" Shadow thought back, taking a moment before he realized what Sonic meant. Oh. "You caught Slinger like that because Mimic's a bastard, if you ask me." He laughed, scooching closer to Sonic on the bed so he could bring the blue hedgehog to rest on his chest instead. "Don't tell him I said that. But don't stress over it much, that's not a common case. Mimic has... odd tastes about how he enjoys Slinger. I only handed his ownership papers to him on the condition that he treats my work with respect." If he wanted a loose whore, he could grab one from off the streets. Shadow sighed, lazily petting a hand over Sonic's quills with practiced caution as if they hadn't been blunted prior.

"I doubt the prince has expectations to share you like that. He's far too greedy to make an open spectacle of you like that." Shadow thought of the possibilities, not that he let Sonic know of any of them. There were only a few situations he could see Jet having Sonic perform like that, and they were far and few between reality. "I wouldn't worry about it for you. And besides, you have a lot of time before you would be considered able to perform in public, if you were."

Sonic was uncertain about being held— he was a little stiff against Shadow’s chest, but it struck him suddenly, as Shadow spoke, that in the time he’d been here, he had never touched Shadow. Not directly. It was always the other way around; being touched, being handled, and him avoiding it where he could. His forehead was pressed into the downy white softness of the hedgehog’s chest, and it was unexpectedly…not bad. Even if Sonic still shied at the touch of others — it made his skin crawl to think of being turned over to strange people to be used — he consciously made himself relax. The hand on his quills was foreign, not used to being petted, particularly not on his spines. Though, blunted as they were…he supposed they were nothing more than aesthetic on him, now.

Still, Shadow’s answer seemed little comfort to him. He stared down at nothing as Shadow held him, a position he felt he’d probably need to get used to, and ever so slightly, hoping it would go unnoticed, he pushed his muzzle slightly deeper into the thick fur. Experimentally, he tested the gesture. Still not bad. If bizarrely out of his comfort zone.

I’m sorry.

Slinger had said that to him. Had seemed confident in Sonic’s well-being until he found out who he was going to. Jet; that noxious feathered Prince, ordering the Blue Phantom brought under his heel. Slinger was trying to warn him of something. Something Shadow either wasn’t telling him, or didn’t know about.

Could he protect Sonic? Could Sonic rely on him, knowing something lurked beyond his knowledge in the Prince’s service?

Sonic wanted to resent Shadow, even now. And yet — he shut his eyes, realized he’d never taken in another person’s scent in like this — he found himself aiming it all at the Prince.

If Shadow were free to act against Prince Jet, would he have freed him? He would never know. It ate him up alive to think about it.

“I don’t want to go to the Prince.” He spoke even more frankly than he usually did, after learning he had to be somewhat careful about what he said. This wasn’t careful. His words were slightly muffled against Shadow’s chest, open and raw as he felt, Shadow’s administrations having flayed him open. “I can’t think of anything worse.”

"There are far worse people out there than him, I assure you." Shadow scratched behind Sonic's ears one at a time, tracing figure-eights over his skull from one to the other. "I would not work under him otherwise. I was offered higher ranking positions in other kingdoms for my work, and I turned them down because I found the rulers behind them disgusting. I occasionally still have to deal with them, but they are not my highness." Shadow's nose wrinkled briefly as he thought back on offers he still got from gross kings with jagged grins and scars to match. Even if Prince Jet still trades with them for goods and services.

"I do not let any of my slaves go to owners who do not show the same values I train with. I hope that puts you at ease, if only a bit. Even if they are spoilt royalty." Shadow tucked another chaste kiss on Sonic's head as they settled, and if Sonic listened closely he would be able to hear the lightest of content rumbles coming from the chest he was pressed against.

Shadow had his other hand cascading up and down Sonic's side, lazy and innocent compared to how he had worked his body only a few minutes ago. He was waiting to see if Sonic would fall asleep, from fatigue or otherwise. But if he did, then he would know Sonic trusted him on some subconscious level or another, and that's what he was after.

In the meanwhile, he talked the night away with him.

"The Prince is not as much of a brute as he seems. He likes treasures, he's a collector of the rare and odd first and a ruler second. And he wants to keep me in good favor under his wing, so he lets me advise him when he needs it." Jet was a show-off, power hungry and wildly self-conceited. But he at least knew the value of company, even if he used others as stepping stones sometimes...

Sonic wouldn't have to worry about all that in his bed chambers, however. It was natural to be nervous in his position.

The gentle, clawed hand combing over his ears was working on him. His mind still fought with whether to trust Shadow or not, but he had to contend that Shadow had yet to give him a reason to think he’d try anything without preparing him first.

The pointed ears fell somewhat, this time not in any dejected fashion, but relaxed as he grew incrementally heavier against the other hedgehog.

“You must have a lot of power, to influence a prince,” he said, finding suddenly that the thick thatch of white fur served as a pillow-like rest. And maybe he deserved to rest after everything. His voice, when it came, was a little far away. “As long as I don’t go to Mimic,” he muttered.

It took a long time for Sonic to truly relax. In that time, he said little else besides noncommittal sounds; he simply listened to Shadow talk to him. It was probably the most peaceful he’d felt since his capture, the day — and his orgasm — weighing heavy on him. He fought sleep, waiting to see what Shadow would do, when he would leave, but it hit him abruptly anyways.

Gradually, he stopped acknowledging Shadow’s words. When he didn’t budge at Shadow’s gentle prodding, it was the slightest sound, giving him away— a soft, sleepy snore.

He had fallen asleep.

Chapter Text

The next day, Sonic would wake up as if nothing ever happened, everything gone except for the bandages around his wrists. The blanket was also tucked over his shoulder as he slept, chest fluff pillow long gone since the sun had risen.

Shadow had snuck out during the night obviously, never giving himself a break to rest almost. (Something that Sonic could feasibly wonder when he did sleep, if at all) But today was a new day, and his master was kind enough to allow a lazy morning for their start. The next time the door unlocked was when Shadow came carrying a plate of lunch inside, this one a simple platter of cold cut cheeses and meats.

It would be a while before Shadow would take Sonic back upstairs again. Maybe only for special occasions, if one ever came up. But no matter, there was plenty they could work on together down here.

"Afternoon," Shadow watched Sonic stir from the bed, figuring he'd be a light sleeper after the life he'd lived. The bag from last night was slung around his shoulder again, but this time he put it down to pull out a jug of water to hand to the other as he came back into the waking world. "Did you sleep well?"

Today would be simple; he felt a lot better about initiating their training now that Shadow had slipped Sonic a taste of what this world would be like for him as long as he stayed complacent. Not that it would be all sex, all the time either-- just another thing Sonic would probably be surprised about.

A blue ear swiveled in Shadow’s direction as soon as he entered the room, his captive stirring without trouble. Not appearing so weary around the eyes as the previous morning, he arched his back in a stretch, flexed his spines and shook himself out after. Somewhat gingerly, he avoided a few loose quills that fell out in his sleep, brushing them aside.

“Morning,” he said on a yawn, eyeing the food, predictably, before focusing on Shadow once more. He was considerably less tense than yesterday after waking. He’d at least put the thought of bolting for the door out of his mind for now, it seemed. And perhaps also helping was no longer being so in the dark about the kind of training that lay ahead.

Even still, tension was a natural state for Sonic, not something that would be easily stricken out of him. But he consciously folded his legs, making himself comfortable over perching precariously on the edge of his bed.

“A bit,” he said, understating how thoroughly knocked out Shadow had made him. He cocked an ear and asked, “Is it customary to share breakfast? Or, all our meals, I guess?”

Shadow gave a little 'hmph,' sitting down on the bed and placing the plate down between them. "I see you catch on quick. That's good." He snuck a few slices for himself first, a wave of his hand the silent permission for Sonic to take part as well. "It's more common than not, a sign of affection from both ends. Giving something of your own for your partner to enjoy is a simple enough concept. Things like food, entertainment, conversation... they're all quite neutral gifts. And for me in particular, I don't eat excessively, so I rather appreciate the help." He added on to the end, a quick wink sent over Sonic's way before he ate another slice of cheese.

On another note, he figured it was finally time to address the slack Sonic needed to pull. "We do need you to work on your titles. I wasn't concerned with it much last night, because if there's any appropriate time to call your master by name it would be in the thralls of passion, but honorifics are important to respect anyone above you." Shadow overexplained, though he wasn't stressing over it much for now. "So you would greet me with something akin to 'good morning, master' or the like. Am I clear?"

It was only a joke, but Shadow leaned in, climbing over on the mattress as he invaded the space he had allowed Sonic when he first sat down. "And I will be listening for that. Unless you want another punishment again..?"

Embarrassed to be reminded of last night — Sonic could only imagine how humiliating he’d looked, how thoroughly Shadow had cracked him open and exposed vulnerable insides — his ears tipped back and he glanced away, feeling heat rushing to his face.

Only amplifying it by moving closer, Sonic reflexively moved back slightly, gaze snapping back to him at the overt teasing. He wanted to say, I can give you a taste of what I gave the Prince, but begrudgingly reminded himself that he needed to pick his fights wisely. And it was… He wasn’t sure what it was. There was a new, easier feeling to Shadow’s company. Annoying, sure— he was loathe to be reminded of his lesser status. But he was beyond thinking lashing out against the trainer would do him any favors, nor did he want to actually hurt him. So long as Shadow retained the carefully cultivated respect he’d shown so far.

But he was still processing last night, and as effectively as Shadow could work him, he didn’t want to find himself falling into another position like that just yet.

But since when did ‘never’ become ‘not yet?’

“No, sir,” he said, voice only slightly uneven. “I’m trying to avoid punishments.”

Rewards, however. Maybe that was on the table? As much as compromising on his servitude made him want to halfway crawl out of his skin, it felt…okay, with Shadow. He could deal with this until he found a way out. Preferably before he ended up handed over to his intended master.

“So,” he began, trying again. “Titles, fine, got it. I don’t suppose I’m gonna be let up back into the palace again, am I, sir?” He had a slightly hopeful edge to the question. It was far fetched, but Shadow had been right when he’d let Sonic stay for the day up above, even as harrowing as the experience had been.

He missed the sun. As much as he’d cursed it so many days, he’d really underestimated the impact it had on his mood, on his outlook on things in general. What upstairs had lacked however was a fresh gust of wind. Even a hot breeze would be welcome. Even the grit of sand in his fur would be welcome. Just a single glimpse of an uninterrupted view of land would be welcome.

But Sonic knew he’d ruined that for himself yesterday, even without being told. Still…the isolation would be getting to him soon. Even seeing Slinger again had been a reprieve from the oppressive dungeon, as upsetting as the result had been. Next time he’d get it right, though, if only for his own sanity.

He took up the offer of food, carefully filching for himself all the little bits of meat Shadow left, finding the quality better than any he’d had on his own time, nibbling on a bit of cheese and bread after he quickly polished off the sliced meat.

"Not anytime soon, no. Not until you can prove to me you'll be well behaved. And granted, I probably shouldn't have taken you up there so early, not for something so trivial." Shadow sighed, truly wishing things would've gone different. He wanted Sonic to make a good impression of himself, to hopefully not have this part of their training be so drawn out. And it was lazy of him as a trainer, to take something that large and use it as a menial reward for the bare minimum back.

The other slaves he had trained up until now had never been so stubborn, usually self preservation kicking in for the fastest route to comfort. It's what made Sonic worth the effort almost, what kept Shadow attentive on him instead of falling into an auto-pilot regimen. But now, after this advancement they had made last night... things could start to change.

"For now, I think it'd be best to balance your training out until you're actually ready." Shadow quickly grabbed his bag, bringing back over on the bed as he pulled out a wooden board with dips carved to hold small glass stones. At the start he could teach Sonic innocent things like parlor tricks and games, everything he would need to entertain the Prince without sexual use of his body. And it would help him get to know Sonic a little better to, an important thing for their bond as trainer and slave when it would grow later into the day.

Because when Sonic was able to be comfortable around him normally, and the last of this starting awkwardness had diminished, all he was really doing was teaching Sonic the manners of courtship without any of the strings. Without the context they could've been new friends enjoying each other's company, if this was an equal playing field.

"Do you like games?" Shadow brought their collective attention over to the board he was setting up, innocent. He wasn't sure if Sonic had ever heard of this one, but he would teach him regardless.

Sonic’s ears lifted with interest. Even though he was slightly disappointed, he hadn’t been surprised by the answer. He ignored that annoying, nagging little voice that told him, you disappointed him.

Pushing that to the back of his mind, Sonic focused on the new challenge set in front of him.

“Games?” he echoed, green eyes lighting up with curiosity. He shifted so that he was sitting facing Shadow. It was the last thing he expected, but this sounded way easier to master than some of the other stuff he’d been asked to do. “Yeah— what are we playing?”

Sonic was used to playing small games in the downtime he had, in between missions, when you just wanted to distract from the upcoming losses. Usually he ended up doing so with small children, finding a way to entertain them amidst the destruction and rubble of their homes. He usually taught them the few games he knew; sometimes, they made stuff up and called it a new game, changing the rules from kid to kid. It pulled a real smile at his lips to think about doing so with Shadow, now.

He’d never played anything that looked so sophisticated as this, however. He picked up one of the beautiful glass game pieces, turning it over in his palm, wondering how one played with pieces that looked so fragile.

Seeing the natural excitement flow back into his energy made Shadow grow that smirk again, as if to say, see? Being a pleasure slave isn't all bad, equally dividing the pieces into the little cups they were made for.

"Mancala," Shadow explained, crisscrossing his legs as he sat up proper. "The goal is to gather as many of the pieces into your home." He pointed to the slightly larger space at either end of the small board, "We take turns placing the stones like this," Shadow picked up all of the stones he had placed in one pit, dropping one down each into the next until he ran out. "We take turns moving in a circle until all the stones are in one of our homes. We then count the total and see who has the most. It's easy enough, you'll get it."

A children's game, but it was strategic in nature. Not as complicated as chess, but fast paced and entertaining.

"I propose we bet on it, make things more interesting, yes?" Shadow reset the stones, knowing he had Sonic's attention by now if not before. "If you win, I'll put a process on getting you some proper shoes, despite being a pleasure slave. And if you lose.." Shadow trailed off for a moment, debating his prize.

"..I get to see how well you fair at kissing," He decided, not too heavy for the name of the game.

Predictably, Sonic looked a little surprised at the prizes laid out. He came off slightly starry eyed at the prospect of shoes, and wasn’t even deterred by Shadow’s condition if he lost.

Kissing… That was shockingly tame compared to everything else Shadow had already made him do. But at the same time, this wasn’t really part of training, either. Or perhaps it was? Sonic wasn’t quite wrapping his mind around it. Shoes were something he was more than willing to gamble for…and if he lost?

He didn’t find the punishment of being kissed by Shadow to be much of a punishment.

Sonic nodded, a daring gleam in his gaze. Rather than shy away from the conditions, he seemed all the more eager to try his hand at this new challenge.

“You’re on,” he said with a grin— the most open Shadow had seen him yet. “Oh, sorry. I mean, you’re on, sir.”

He actually allowed himself a little playful insolence, reaching forward to gather the pieces he needed. Even if he couldn’t have the outdoors, or free reign above ground, a little entertainment went a long way. It was clear that boredom had largely soured his time; like Shadow himself, the hedgehog required stimulation to not go mad, or stew in his resentment when left alone to his own devices.

“Can I start?” he asked, palming one of his pieces, eyeing the board, determined to figure the process out and come out on top.

Shadow nodded, motioning to the board to let Sonic have the first move. It was cute, his eye for equalized engagement paired with the clear attempt to follow Shadow's wishes. Watching Sonic was half the fun as they moved the stones in their lines, collecting and only taking brief moments to think which pile to grab next.

What would be most rewarding. Which gather of stones would take them the farthest, which would force the other to make a less desirable move. Sometimes massively advantageous, sometimes just petty. Of course, Shadow had no intentions of letting Sonic win. There was still a chance for a fluke, and Shadow would hold his word accordingly. But not if he could help it. And considering Shadow had played this game many times over before, and Sonic was just a newcomer to it..

It wasn't very long before Shadow had dropped the last stone in his side of the board, and they had to count them up. Although, the counting could be spared for this round. It was painfully obvious who had more stones in their goal.

"I believe that means I won." Shadow said, a bit triumphantly for victory of a kids' game.

And when Sonic might've expected something intense or surprising from Shadow, something that would wrap him up in something he just didn't know what was next-- all the black hedgehog did was lightly bring himself over and quickly peck Sonic's lips, calling that enough.

"Rematch?"

Sonic was startled at the gentle peck against his lips, not having expected that. He’d expected more; Shadow drawing it out, kissing him deep, making him flustered. The peck left him slightly pink in the ears, regardless, sitting back and looking down with some disappointment at the board.

He was nothing, if not determined.

“Rematch,” he agreed, emboldened. He’d gotten the hang of it near the end. In his overeagerness of the new game, he’d played mostly based on impulse, but now saw how Shadow had outplayed him, methodically and calculating. Maybe that wasn’t necessarily Sonic’s strong suit, but he could learn, and take his time.

This time, the game lasted longer. He still lost.

He eyed the two extra glass stones Shadow laid out, and felt he’d played right, if slightly less calculating than Shadow. This time, the kiss didn’t surprise him. He didn’t lean back from it, and it lingered a little longer than the first one had. He actually did try to emulate a kiss back, the hesitancy lasting in the first few moments before Shadow felt the slightest press back.

It was just because he didn’t like being passive, he told himself that. If he was going to have to do this, he might as well not let himself be some passive virgin, terrified of something as innocuous as a kiss.

And it definitely had nothing to do with the fact that he was only okay considering such a thing with Shadow.

“Rematch,” he said again, determined to win himself some shoes. When Shadow allowed it, he felt a little bolder while playing. This time, he used his new knowledge of the strategy without the hesitancy of his previous game, overthinking his every move. He moved deliberately, already attuned to what kind of plays Shadow would make.

And by the end of their third match, he’d claimed victory, with one extra stone.

He made a little noise of delight, holding up that one small, winning glass piece.

Shadow didn't know why he was surprised. He had come in here with the notion of Sonic being a fast learner when he was motivated, after all. But clearly as Sonic held his tiny little piece of victory, he couldn't help but feel proud of him somehow.

"Very well. I suppose I'll put in a request." He admitted, able to take the hit to his winning streak with grace. It wasn't a condition he could fulfill immediately, but he'd have to be reminded next time he went around for clothes.

But the quick seconds he had felt Sonic return his kiss confirmed that he was getting comfortable, which was exactly what Shadow wanted. Because Sonic getting comfortable meant that he could do things like this without scaring him.

Even though he had lost, Shadow brought himself forwards again to kiss Sonic one more time, this one a lot more what Sonic was used to. Slow, sensual, the lightest slip of the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip. Barely pulling away, Shadow just brushed their lips over each other as he let Sonic decide if he wanted to pull away or not.

"And that's a reward for you, as well."

The flush now was darker after the kiss, which was a lot more sensual like he’d expected. The tongue was new, and even being as slight and non invasive as it was, it still sent a shudder down Sonic’s body.

It was surprisingly pleasant, Shadow’s description of it as a reward fairly accurate. They were still close, close enough that Sonic’s slightly heavier breaths ghosted his mouth, his heart beating harder in a way that was becoming too regular around the other hedgehog.

He felt like he was losing control of himself. His lips were still warm, and he realized suddenly he was being faced with a choice. Shadow was hovering. Waiting. Watching him.

It was his first time being given an explicit choice in something. He could choose to pull back — probably would have this time yesterday — or he could do as his trainer bid him to do last night. Be selfish with me.

“That was my first kiss,” he finally spoke up, “before.” He pulled back just enough to lick over his lips, nervously. “But you probably would’ve guessed that.”

"Then I think it would be wise for you to learn more, no?" Shadow's voice lowered to a whisper at the end, tempting him. His first kiss... Sonic was right, he wasn't surprised.

Sonic was already very familiar with how talented Shadow could be with his mouth, whether it was natural talent or just learned skill for his work. Given the benefit of the doubt, Sonic's lack of experience in intimacy might as well have nothing to do with it for how effective it was. Even his voice naturally had some sort of hushed sensuality to it.

He could probably work his way through anyone with sweet words and soft kisses, and Sonic would be no exception.

Shadow briefly glanced down at Sonic's own muzzle, looking back up at his eyes. It was things like that, too. Small notions that planted an idea or an image in Sonic's head, even if Shadow hadn't even said anything, it was like he was mentioning it anyways.

"Would you like me to show you..?"

Swallowing, Sonic glanced down briefly, willing himself to answer properly. Again, here there was choice. And when shown kindness, and choice, he seemed more amiable to things asked of him.

He chewed his lip a little, reaching up perhaps subconsciously to touch his collar, a mindless gesture he did often, too aware of the weight and fit of it. When Shadow had said, I want to see how you fair at kissing, the answer was ‘not all that well.’ He could at best mimic whatever Shadow did, but this was the first willing admission of just how in the dark about intimacy he’d truly been during his lifetime. Briefly, absurdly, he thought, Shadow has his work cut out for him, I’m hopeless.

Letting his usual stubbornness take a back seat to curiosity, Sonic nodded, green eyes settling back onto Shadow.

“Yessir,” he answered, settling himself— the confirmation sounding a bit more like an eager student than a subservient slave in training. There was less of the trepidation from when Shadow first touched him; or the nervous resignation of falling asleep against him last night.

Besides, it was just kissing, right? This seemed like the last thing he should back down from. And — impossible — a tiny part of Sonic wanted to show him, I’m not bad all the time.

At least, when he felt like it.

"Don't be shy, then.." Shadow trailed off, just inching back closer to Sonic but waiting for him to actually close the gap between them again. Even if it was unruly for the slave to make the first move most of the time without alluding to it first, Shadow wanted Sonic to push back. Wanted him to want this.

When those lips met his own again, he treated them well with a pace Sonic could catch up at. Mouths barely open against each other, shyly meeting and pressing together in a predictable way it wouldn't take long to emulate. He wanted Sonic to realize he'd have to learn how to breathe through his nose to keep going, how effective it could be to lightly pull away if only to come back for more.

He could feel the heat blooming up on Sonic's muzzle with how close they were, the game between them quickly forgotten as Shadow moved the board away with a single hand so he could climb closer to Sonic, tilting his head ever so slightly more and deepening their kiss. He introduced his tongue once more, with intent of taking it further if he could push them into that territory.

Perhaps tonight's lesson would be sped up to the present, if he got Sonic hot and bothered enough with just this.

Shadow steadily climbed his way into Sonic's lap, hooking a finger underneath the collar he had locked around his neck to pull Sonic closer to him while his other hand massaged over one of his shoulders. Even if it wasn't the most traditionally dominant position, straddling his hips like this, Shadow was getting rougher every time Sonic had shown he could take it. He wanted Sonic's head spinning as something that had started so small sparked into a roaring fire between their bodies.

Shadow took Sonic's lip between his teeth to plump up the flesh before diving in to continue the kiss, relishing every quiver under his fingers or shaky breath he heard him pull. Not a word had to be said between them like this, lust would naturally take its own course.

Shadow was playing Sonic’s body with such accuracy, knowing exactly what would make him tick with the ease of a long time lover. But this was no long time lover; this was his trainer, thrusting him once again into a new arena of inexperience.

Sonic was kissing back, his expression adorably concentrated, trying to keep up with what Shadow was doing to him. He felt any thoughts obliterated when Shadow introduced tongue; sly and wet and impeccably skilled. Sonic’s tongue, considerably clumsier, lacked shyness as Sonic pressed determinedly forward.

Accompanying that daring tongue, Shadow felt a hand pawing at his fluffy chest, and then curling his fingers, fisting it. He made a soft, yielding sound at the teeth to his bottom lip.

“Sha—“

He was cut off with another kiss, but he didn’t complain, beckoned by the fingers curled under his collar. That seemed to drive him to act, pushing back against Shadow as he felt mortifying, newly familiar heat curling, swelling, rousing him.

Within the realm of Shadow’s expectations, Sonic’s teeth captured his lip in turn, nibbling with biting force. At the same time, the rebellious slave under him twitched, hips shifting with a slightly distressed sound at the first stirrings; a slow, steady swelling between his legs.

Sonic’s signature stubbornness presented itself in an entirely new manner. His trepidation between the first kiss and this one had melted, attacking Shadow’s mouth with all the fierceness that he expected from the slave that had tried to claw him alive the night he’d been captured.

Even with the lack of experience, Sonic was eager once made agreeable. With the hand tugging on his chest fur, and the sheer passion he held now in their kiss alone, Shadow would be lying if he had tried to say he wasn't getting a bit swept up in the moment himself. He gyrated down onto Sonic encouragingly, letting Sonic rut against him if he felt so inclined.

Shadow leaned his body forward, pushing Sonic backward to fall on the bed flat as his hands moved to reach for those bandaged wrists, pinning them to the sheets as he briefly pulled away to catch a well needed breath. A slight trail of saliva connected their lips for a few seconds before breaking, catching down on Shadow's chin.

"Mmm," Shadow purred, "I enjoy the way you taste, Blue Phantom.."

An odd compliment, but sincere as Shadow continued his onslaught over Sonic's jawline and down his neck, the collar mildly getting in the way between Shadow's kisses and Sonic's skin. Not ideal, but Shadow skipped over the fabric to trail over Sonic's collarbone instead, placing kisses all the way back up to his muzzle.

If Sonic could focus enough, he would be able to notice a bump similar to his own pressing against him, not fully there yet but undeniably present nonetheless.

"You're proving to be quite a natural. Are you sure that was your first kiss, before?" He teased him lightly, though it was quite obvious to Shadow anyways. Sonic just picked up his examples fast, was all.

Sonic let himself be pushed back, if only because he was so currently overwhelmed with everything that he didn’t have it in his mind to push back. That mouth was reminiscent of last night— as lovely as it was fiercely scathing, as capable of making his skin burn up with kisses as it made him jump from the feel of teeth. Just like Shadow could praise, and degrade with his words.

His wrists twisted, and although he did not attempt to thrash wildly free, he fought the hold on them by principle, green eyes blown nearly black with pupil. He thought, impossibly, that he’d felt evidence of Shadow’s arousal, too. But that idea seemed so far fetched.

With Shadow, he always seemed to be dealing with a mind fully engaged, and a body somewhat aloof. To think of Shadow being aroused by him was impossible.

“You know it was,” he wheezed slightly, his chest moving with exaggerated breaths again. He was red when Shadow kissed his muzzle, not a gesture he’d expected. Was this going to be another lesson in training? He’d said he wanted to see how he was at kissing, but he was pretty sure a bed wasn’t required for that.

He squirmed because he couldn’t help it, but again, there was no angry, heated fight. Just his own embarrassed reluctance to be exposed and vulnerable this way. It was only twice before Shadow had roused him, but his own traitorous body was already becoming expectant when the other hedgehog was close to him, a pesky habit he could only fight off with so much success.

“What—“ He paused, hating how unsure, how painfully inexperienced he sounded, regardless if that’s what he was. “What are we gonna do now?”

We. Not you. It was the smallest change of word choice, and yet implicated so much. Sonic’s stare was wary, but not wholly distrusting, nor resentful.

Shadow hummed as if he was in thought, so much potential running through his head. Sonic wasn't necessarily struggling, if albeit squirming underneath him like he didn't know whether to push Shadow off or pull him in for more. And even without the telling swell he was sitting on, Shadow would have to be an idiot to not recognize the signs of arousal over the rest of his body.

"Did you want to continue the lesson..?" Shadow finally said, implicating much behind those words. But there was still the option of choice, since this hadn't been exactly what Shadow had planned from them today, not so early. After all, there were still plenty of innocent things in his bag he could use to pass the time with. A deck of cards, materials for drawing or even writing if Sonic was literate enough...

Of course, there had also been supplies for the night. Lubricant, select toys, the cuffs from last night if he so needed them. But with how Sonic was under him now, he wasn't so sure if that last thing was going to be used or not.

"Or would you rather bet another game on it?" He offered instead, taking how well Sonic had used their last challenge so well. It was amusing for Shadow too, admittedly, to work this way with his training. Sonic was quickly shaping up to be like no other slave he had trained, resistant yet giving in to what Shadow wanted of him. He was weak to challenge, reward focused and enjoyed pleasure, clearly. It was fresh and new for Shadow to train someone like this-- but it also had made it fun for him to break Sonic down in the palm of his hand.

Rolling his hips forward, Shadow took the chance to dangerously sway Sonic's answer in his direction. He just needed to spark that burning curiosity inside Sonic, to bait him enough to fall forwards into the pleasure Shadow could offer him, if he allowed it on his own terms.

A look of bewildered curiosity flicked across Sonic’s face at the option presented to him, clearly surprised by the response. He looked to be seriously considering which way or the other, clearly enticed by the idea of another game.

He opened his mouth to give an answer, and then Shadow rolled their hips together and his vision momentarily became useless to him. He inhaled sharply with a small moan, and he twisted his hand against Shadow’s chest fur, arching.

Perhaps he would’ve opted out, if he couldn’t currently feel between Shadow’s legs, a subtle, growing hardness that was stimulating his own arousal. He would be made a liar if he said it didn’t intrigue him; what would Shadow have him do?

“Chaos,” he whined, and that spark was successfully set ablaze— He opened his eyes and in his stare there was challenge. As expected. “I want to see what you,” He glanced down between them, already in danger of revealing himself, sheath swollen, “clearly have planned, here.”

Once again, when given the option of choice, Sonic seemed pleasantly surprised. He would have fought him, no doubt, had Shadow pressed him down and ordered his obedience. And now, given an out, he weighed his own fate, and the answer depended entirely on how curious he was.

"I can work with that." Shadow nodded, the board game next to them on the bed long forgotten as he dove back down to kiss Sonic again, deep and wanting. It felt odd, treating him more like a lover than someone he was supposed to be teaching. But, if that's how he was going to get to him...

And the hand clutching at the soft fluff on his chest was driving him a little bit mad, the pull against his skin only serving more to silently excite him. It was good Sonic was feeling out the natural ropes in being able to touch someone else, to spur them closer together...

Shadow rolled their hips together again, mutual pleasure burning them both up as he let a single hand trail down Sonic's side, over his leg to guide the limb up and out so he could press their bodies closer together. The next time he pulled away from kissing him Shadow softly panted over his lips, sinking his hand down between them to palm over Sonic's pouch, waiting for what he was looking for to slide right out into his grasp.

"How are you feeling..?" He checked in on him, pecking over Sonic's cheek while he stroked over the newly revealed length, warming him right up for what was to come. "You're doing very good for me, so far." He added, thumbing over the tip as if to reward him.

Perhaps reminded of last night, the touch spurred Sonic on to spread his legs a little further of his own volition. Shadow’s accusation before held a seed of truth; still so new, and so overwhelmed by this, he chased pleasure selfishly when within his grasp. With time, with experience, he would be able to turn the tables on any lover, Shadow was certain. Even now he showed that potential.

After all, it was Shadow’s answering arousal that drove him, and Shadow’s approving sound at the rough grip of his fur that made him tug again. He didn’t have the knowledge of all the ways to stimulate a lover, or where erogenous zones were on the body — all knowledge Shadow had long ago mastered, and taught slaves how to master — but he had instinct, and his intuition paired well with his dogged determination not to be caught out. As a result, Shadow was met with eyes like cut glass, not diminished even by the furious flush of his face.

Briefly, the leg Shadow grabbed jerked instinctively in his grasp, unsure how he felt about that motion until he understood the intended purpose, wrenching a newly desperate sound from the hedgehog.

“Um,” he answered, swallowing, grasping for words. He had no elegant phrase for what he felt. He just felt. “Good, yeah— it feels good.”

While half of him railed against how embarrassingly easy it was to be roused — glancing between them, his expression curious and expectant, but Shadow wasn’t yet showing like he was — he also couldn’t deny that part of it must have had to do with the trainer’s skill. He’d…seen things, had fantasized about things he himself hardly understood, hazy and vague approximations of what his body craved in his rare moments of isolated indulgence. He’d even thought to himself when he found others attractive, but his knowledge hit a mental barrier when he thought of much beyond kissing.

But even still, no matter how lovely he’d thought someone had been, or how he thought to ache for the kind of intimacy he was not permitted in the resistance, he’d never been so easily inflamed this way.

With his heart in his throat, the back of his mind told him you’re supposed to hate him, even as he experimentally mimicked what Shadow had just done, arching his body so that their hips rolled together again. That shock of pleasure made his vision go dark, and he thought, that’s good, I want more of that. The hand working him was even better.

“Shadow,” he said his name like he was going to say more after, but he hesitated, eyes squeezing shut and tipping his head back.

The simple call of his name had Shadow back to running his mouth all over under Sonic's jaw and chest, so openly exposed for him to spread more hickies over. Perhaps... he would have to take a little more of a direct lead, as pleasant as it was having Sonic submit to him like this.

"You don't have to be shy," He panted as he let go of Sonic's length to continue the grinding pattern they were falling into, taking his hand to take Sonic's own and take it down across his own body. "You can touch me, too." He let it hover just over his midriff, deciding to let Sonic take the chance if he felt so inclined. To see if he would take it upon himself to help them roll along, how bold he could be underneath Shadow's attention.

It was adorable how he didn't have the language to describe the pleasure Shadow gave him, the clearest thing about him being how his tail flicked up, how the small of his back arched towards his touch. A silent plea for more, and now all Shadow had to do was work him into begging for it with his words. Maybe, if tonight went well enough, there would be a lesson on denial play in the future..

Shadow suckled the skin on one spot as he felt those trimmed claws brush against his pelt, hesitating, waiting to gauge what Sonic would do. Would those fingers trail down his fur, sleek and thick as they searched for more? Would they just freeze there, unknowing until Shadow stepped in again? Or perhaps they would even try and hurt him, such a soft area open to attack if he really wanted to.

Shadow felt his own heart rate spike in anticipation and arousal, heat flushing his muzzle as he brought himself back up to kiss Sonic's lips again, throwing them both back into the moment no matter what would transpire next. Just a little lower, that's all it would take for Sonic to realize the reality of how his master was fairing above him, despite his calmer composure.

"Are you scared..?" He asked him, wondering if that was the issue for the wait. Being nervous was expected.. but if he pushed Sonic too far, too suddenly, that could only serve for more trouble down the line. And that shouldn't be the problem at all, especially considering their advancements last night, but it was only the right thing to do.

"It's okay," Shadow's voice was a raspy whisper, maybe teetering on the edge of impatient desperation himself. "I want you to touch me."

Scared. No, that wasn’t it. Green eyes widened at Shadow’s words, mouth parting slightly.

Maybe Sonic had been too nervous, or unsure of what he was allowed to do (this one seemed unlikely, as Shadow’s experience told him that Sonic seemed rarely to care about what he was and wasn’t allowed to do). Either way, Sonic was emboldened.

He never thought this hedgehog could want him in return, didn’t think a trainer would get anything out of this. But this— this was not the actions of a slave and his mentor. Sonic fisted that plume of white fur hard, and finally occupied that other hand, pushing fingers through luxuriously soft black fur. So much nicer than his own, years and years of royalty-quality shampoos, pampered indoor softness. He combed his ungloved fingers through it, hand traveling up and around Shadow’s abdomen to pause as it slid around to his back.

Shadow could tell what he was feeling. Those fingers slowed, and he felt the dull sensation of his back spines being gently traced over. Sonic knew how to navigate them, even if they weren’t his own, even if he fiddled blind with them. The touch stroked to the razor sharp tips, Shadow retaining the deadly edge that was the pride of any warrior hedgehog worth his salt.

Pain, subtle and brief, flashed across Sonic’s eyes— that deeply degrading treatment that stripped him of the pride the hedgehog above him still radiated. The pride he still had simply by being unaltered, unfettered, the way Sonic had been only days ago.

When he drew his hand back, blood smeared across his palm, but Shadow hadn’t seen the sign of him cutting himself, had not seen the flinch he would’ve seen on any other face. Sonic bared his teeth, but there wasn’t anger in his expression. It was something complex, mingled with this newfound pleasure Shadow was putting him through. He watched the exact moment Sonic threw his caution aside, and swiping his bloodied hand across the bedspread beside him, his other hand left Shadow’s chest to fly downward in a reckless motion, palming over the very swollen, hot bump between Shadow’s legs. At the same time, he drew forward, teeth bared— and he dug them into the hardened muscle of Shadow’s shoulder, biting.

If Shadow wanted him to take what he wanted, then he’d take it.

While unpracticed, it didn’t take a master skilled hand to stoke a fire like this, a finger at first accidentally dipping inside the slitted, damp opening of the pouch. Realizing this, he did it again, deliberately, mimicking that circular motion that Shadow had used on him the first time to drive him crazy. He felt the first little bump against his palm when he flattened his hand over it, his breathing ragged. Pulling back, his voice was roughened when he spoke.

“Come on,” he panted. “Come on.”

Shadow sucked a sharp breath through gritted teeth, hissing in self-denied pleasure at those teeth sinking into his skin. Sonic had been noted to be a biter, so he wasn't super surprised that his first instinct was to go for Shadow with his mouth first.

What did surprise him was just how erotic he sounded afterwards, the slight scent of iron in the air compelling them both forward into depravity. Masochism, on a slight level perhaps..? He wondered, a quiet moan leaving his throat at the unexperienced hand tending to his pouch. Shadow wanted to be open with him about it, so he would know what felt good and what wasn't working too well, the fastest way for him to keep doing what he was doing well.

"I said that you could touch me," Shadow spoke, stern but not making any more to discipline Sonic on his actions. "So impatient." The way he said it was exasperated, but could be sidled for desperation given the way he was moving along with Sonic's hand, encouraging his own body to give in just to see what Sonic would do with it once he had it.

The line between master and slave grew ever thinner the moment Shadow finally dropped out of his pouch and into Sonic's waiting hand, pressing their bodies harder together as he sighed in relief. He'd never really been so literally hands on with a slave before, this particular "training session" feeling more like a private moment he'd share with a hushed lover behind closed doors instead.

Which he'd never really indulged in, anyways... the idea of sex for his own benefit something being something Shadow never particularly cared much for. It was nice, but it became predictable and mundane in his type of work. Especially being surrounded by the pleasure slaves he usually had made of his own hand... it sounded like it should've been a single man's paradise, but reality was different.

Just like how Sonic was different, burning up beneath him, looking up at him with a wild stare that challenged kings. That alone...

Shadow shuddered as a bead of pre already procured itself over his tip, his excitement clear on display. Taking back the initiative, Shadow leaned down and kissed Sonic once more, distracting him with what was happening up there while he maneuvered his hand to wrap around them both, pressing their fronts together and adding his own hand to hold their lengths, slowly stroking in unison. He wanted to get Sonic close... close enough so that he'd easily roll over when asked.

Despite the slight admonishment in Shadow’s voice, he didn’t push Sonic away, so he kept going. He was rewarded by the wet slide of the length into his hand. It almost startled him, gasping quietly around the flesh trapped between his teeth. His hand stalled, uncertain.

Here he felt the want that Shadow didn’t display openly on his face. He was stalwart and focused as always, save for the slight heat in his muzzle. But this— it didn’t lie. The way Sonic’s own traitorous body didn’t lie. Even if it was purely physical, even if this meant nothing (or worse, it meant something nefarious), Sonic enjoyed his first minuscule hand of power in this backwards new reality he was condemned to. He wanted to see Shadow unravel, if only out of a sense of revenge. He wasn’t sure what exactly drove his desire for that, so he clung to revenge.

But still, he was glad that Shadow took over, his hand dumb and still on the foreign length, taking in the feel of another cock. It was heavy and the ridges weren’t the same as his, and he wasn’t sure if Shadow was actually bigger or if he just felt like it. When Shadow ground their lower bodies together again, his vision swam.

“Ah—!” he hissed. Frantic with new sensation, he jerked his hips under Shadow, mouth finally opening with that sound and relieving the tenderized flesh of Shadow’s shoulder of sharp teeth. “Oh— fuck—!”

Even though the hedgehog reacted like a wild cat under his touch, he at least wasn’t fighting him. Sonic felt an abrupt buildup, newly familiar but still just as startling.

“Shadow,” he panted, and suddenly claws were raking down Shadow’s vulnerable sides. “Shadow, stop—!”

It was the only way he knew how to warn him, but it was too late still. The noise he made was unguarded, stiffening under his trainer as his legs drew up, subconsciously gaining leverage to rock his hips upward so that their lengths slid together in perfect, pleasing tandem in the moment before his cock pulsed against Shadow. He came hard between them, turning his head away shamefully.

Biting his lip hard, his moan trailed off into a choked off whimper. His ears fell, opening his eyes again.

“I—“ He paused to focus on breathing, closing his eyes again, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I tried to stop— I just. I couldn’t.”

Perhaps it was wildly uncalled for, but Shadow laughed.

Yes. A lesson in denial play was absolutely called for, later.

And Sonic was apologizing, right off the bat. What a lucky day. Shadow used the semen he had caught with his palm as a sort of lube as he continued slowly moving just as he had before, interested in just how fast a refractory period Sonic held. He was a young hedgehog in his sexual prime, oversensitive to touch and easy to rile up in the first place. So if his guesses were correct.. it wouldn't be very long at all until they were right back where they started.

"It's quite alright," He bit back a pet name, as much as it would've been fitting. The burning lines down the curve of his waist by blunted nails a reminder to just how desperate he had been, the sound of his name echoing back in his ears, filled with need... "Who said anything about stopping?" Shadow reassured him, pleased and with a heavy tension in his voice as he rutted against Sonic between strokes. It was probably a good thing anyways, with the endurance difference they had to get over anyways.

Shadow would much rather have Sonic climax multiple times while he was inside him, than never being able to meet him for one. It showed promise he would excel at coming untouched, as well if it was that easy for him to bust with an assisted hand.

"Tell me when you feel close again, if you can. Even if you can't stop it." Because it would be extremely attractive to hear, coming from someone like you. Shadow purred. "May I bring you a new kind of pleasure..?" He asked, even if he technically didn't have to. He could've continued, told Sonic to hold on and wait it out if he hated it. It was the inevitability of being a pleasure slave, after all. He lightly kissed the corner of his mouth, waiting for an answer anyways.

A gauge of how much trust Sonic would put into him, orgasmic clarity aside.

Sonic was clearly embarrassed, even more so when Shadow laughed. He groaned, passing his hands over his face, ears burning. When he removed them, the glare he shot Shadow was hot— if a little halfhearted compared to his usual killing look. Even still, he seemed a bit relieved at the kiss to his muzzle, a hand coming up to somewhat tentatively run over the scratches left behind on Shadow’s flank.

At least he wouldn’t be punished for it. Not like he could’ve helped it. His cock halfway retracted, but never quite made it all the way back. It was momentarily over sensitive, almost too much. He squirmed as Shadow continued to touch him, the lightest touch leaving him breathless.

“There’s more?” he groaned, bewilderment lilting the question. He felt like if Shadow put him through much more that he’d simply die. He’d asked it in the seconds before realization dawned.

He’d have to be fucked, eventually. Was that what Shadow was referring to?

Tension hit him again, his face inflamed at the thought of it, the touch coaxing his arousal back to full hardness distracting. That insistent touch clouded his mind, making him think, what would be so bad about that?

Sonic’s heart pounded, frantic and hammering, and it had less now to do with the hand on him. Suddenly he was over aware of Shadow’s weight spread on top of him, hovering, engulfing his vision. A brief tremble shook him. That was…different, from being touched like this. It was the one thing he’d worked to avoid at all costs, had lied about and lashed out with hostility at the first touch to discourage Shadow from the idea.

Swallowing, that kiss to the juncture of his lips told him that Shadow would guide him. His experience told him Shadow would be good at it. But was a moment’s selfishness worth the blow to his pride?

Would it be a blow to his pride?

Shakily, he exhaled and nodded.

“I can try,” he said. Coming again was that instinct to tuck his tail, nervously. As mortifying as it’d been for Shadow to discover him from his sheath, this went beyond that. Even with his nervousness, his cock was still throbbing back to life under Shadow’s attention. He still wanted more, even if his racing mind could only sprint laps around his thoughts, never landing any of them. So he went with instinct since his logic was failing him. “I can try, sir,” he said again, properly this time, deliberate and daring, the honorific still coming off halfway as challenge, as a slightly smug facade. It was so at odds with his demeanor, and yet getting this wildfire personified to concede just that much was enough to make blood run hot.

"Perfect." Shadow praised him briefly, giving one last squeeze between their lengths before regrettably dragging his hand away, and getting up and off Sonic entirely. It was only the moment-- to safely move the forgotten board game onto the floor somewhere, and quickly collecting the one vital thing they needed to continue from his bag.

No time was wasted as Shadow shucked his soiled gloves off, dipping his fingers into the jar he set aside on the nightstand and diving back in to his previous spot over Sonic, distracting him first with another kiss before trailing that prepared hand down. As cute and pathetic that last defense of a curled tail was, it was something easily pushed past as Shadow merely circled two fingers around the delicate hole, never pushing in quite yet. He wanted Sonic to get used to the feeling, used to his touch first. He could practically feel the tension preventing anything from going further against the pads of his index and middle fingers, so even if he wanted to rush it, haste would make nothing good of the situation.

But no sacrifice was without reward. Shadow ensured Sonic would be busy with his mouth, brushing their tongues together rather sweetly for what was going on. His clean hand travelled down to slowly add that lost pressure back around his shaft as well, just hardly teasing as he didn't want another premature accident quite literally on his hands.

It seemed they stayed like that forever, or however long it would take before Sonic's body started to ease up, maybe the tip of a single finger barely nudging in before circling around the lubed up rim again underneath that quivering tail.

Pulling back for a moment, Shadow looked over Sonic to see how he was holding up. The way his pupils were dilated, the flush on his cheeks, the slight puffiness of his lips Shadow had bitten over time and time again now.. Shadow took a moment to gather himself.

"Tell me if anything hurts, yes? This shouldn't be painful at all for you. Understood?" It was another command, but something softer underneath. Kinder. A silent promise of I'll take care of you, and tell me if I need to stop. It felt.. weirdly intimate, even if that was the standard for how Shadow trained via his morals.

Probably because there was an aspect to this encounter that all of the others Shadow had ever gone into always lacked. The natural escalation of a scene.

But he would think back on that later, for now he had a job to do. Which meant lightly pressing a single finger in past the tight ring of muscle, up as far as it would go.

Sonic couldn’t relax if his life depended on it.

The choked off whimper he made wasn’t of pain, but he hid his face under his arm, curling his hands into fists. Blood dribbled just out of sight from his hand that gripped the sheet of the bed. This vulnerability was reminiscent of the dequilling— but it was worse. He felt self conscious in a way that even getting his sheath prodded at the first time hadn’t elicited. There was nothing he was ashamed about necessarily, but suddenly the thought that a total stranger could end up doing this to him at any time during his servitude made his belly flip.

It was uncomfortable. He knew instinctively that to relax would help him, but that idea sounded completely outside his capabilities at the moment. His breathing was too rough considering Shadow had simply pushed a single finger in. His insides immediately fought the intrusion, squeezing and pushing.

It didn’t hurt, just like Shadow had said it wouldn’t. It wasn’t terrible. It wasn’t all that good, either. It was just foreign and embarrassing, and for the life of him he couldn’t fathom how Slinger had handled more, and in public no less!

“Ugh,” he grunted, feeling the moment Shadow took advantage of his brief moment of relaxation to sink deeper. He realized, with half his mind, that he was down to the last knuckle. There was no way he could do this. He’d gladly fight every guard in this palace with his hands tied, but this was a feat beyond him. “It’s…”

Sonic didn’t have the idea in him to lie to Shadow about it. It wasn’t in his own interest, nor was it something he thought Shadow would even buy.

“It’s weird, I don’t know if I like this.” It was a kinder way of saying, there’s no fucking way anything bigger’s gonna fit. Surely this was…not out of the norm. And yet why in the world did anyone do this for fun? This was nothing like the swelling heat of Shadow touching his length, whether it be with his hand or his mouth or his own body. This was a type of intrusive intimacy he wasn’t sure he could get used to.

“Is it supposed to feel good?” he asked, maybe with a slight trepidation. What if it was him? Would he still have to go through with serving the Prince or whoever even if it hurt him?

Relax, Sonic, it’s just one stupid finger. Stop being a baby. He focused on trying to relax. Maybe it’d get better, even if he only managed it in waves. The feeling of it moving inside him made heat burn his muzzle. It was a good thing Shadow kept him somewhat distracted, his cock not retracting completely only because of the teasing, glancing touches keeping it interested. Against the back of Shadow’s ungloved hand, that small tail twitched whenever Sonic’s lower body tensed, not that he could use the tiny appendage to preserve his dignity at this point.

Sonic's impatience proved itself even after he submitted himself, and Shadow couldn't help but find the little stubborn wrinkle of his nose a bit alluring. He would be the one to change that expression, get Sonic to realize a world he'd been so adverse to every time it came up.

"Maybe not immediately," He answered truthfully, keeping his hand still until there was noticeable give in the twitching muscles around him, a sign that Sonic's body was slowly getting accustomed to the intrusion. He slid his finger out to gather a generous amount more of lubricant before pushing the one back in, sufficiently coating all around the insides he could before daring to try and peek a second finger in. "The more you ease up, the easier it is for me to make you feel good." Shadow said, just like everything else.

And what he was after shouldn't have been far out of reach anyways, curling the one finger in and up inside Sonic, slightly adjusting the placement of his wrist until he knew he found what he was looking for, slipping in the second finger in the moment his entrance had a bit more give, relaxing after drawing taut.

"I think you need to trust your master a little bit more before you jump to assumptions." Shadow's tone was knowing, as if he was calculating Sonic's reactions better than how Sonic would know himself. Which was infuriating, because it held a mild truth. Everything he performed on Sonic screamed trust me, which meant placing Sonic in a position where he had to let go of what he knew for himself in order to learn. But even if it was just for survival... there wasn't many options left that weren't outright violent for him to take.

Shadow was back to placing love bites just below Sonic's collar as he worked him around his fingers, giving him another sensation to hold on to while simply teasing that newly discovered g-spot inside, his movements slow but precise like everything he did.

"How's that..? Better..?"

Sonic’s reaction to having that new, wonderful spot inside him touched was aggressive, giving an uncharacteristically high pitched sound, his body jerking and his arm flying away from his face to reveal wide eyes. His chest moved quickly, his flush creeping down his neck.

“What the hell was that?” he cried out, but he notably didn’t pull away, eyes flying down to where Shadow’s fingers were working him. Working him so well while he tried to ground himself, eyes fluttering and expression scrunching up with another soft exclamation when he felt it again.

“Chaos— fuck! What is that?” And why did it change how everything felt? He was once again faced with the familiar feeling of being bested by Shadow’s better knowledge. It was disquieting as usual, as well as humbling. Years of honing this body to be an objective weapon, hardening it so that it could survive anything he put it through; obey every harrowing feat he demanded of it. All of it, meaningless now. Shadow was reducing him to a useless, leg-shaking mess, and somehow he was making this foreign, humiliating sensation feel incredible.

Sonic rocked his hips, chasing the new sensation. He balled up his fists against the sheets, ears swiveling forward with interest.

“Better, so much better, do it again—“ he panted. His cock throbbed with a renewed interest, slipping out another inch as he squeezed around the two fingers, curling and amazing. He wanted it faster, wanted Shadow to speed things up. Biting his lip, he tried to convey this without words, eyes flickering up to his, wincing at the rhythmic pleasure coming at him in waves.

The shock overcoming Sonic's face as the rest of his body gave into the pleasure was exactly what Shadow wanted out of him, his agreeability rising at almost concerningly rapid speeds the moment something new felt curiously good. It was adorable, the eagerness he held versus holding a grudge against it.

"That," Shadow pressed his fingertips into the spot again, rubbing a generous circle around it. "Is your prostate. It's a part of your sexual anatomy." He removed his hand from Sonic's cock when he felt it pulse under his touch, denying him anything faster to improve upon his stamina. The fingers inside seemed to serve well enough alone now to keep Sonic interested, keeping his hand hooked in as he started to move his arm back and forth in entirety.

It was left unspoken, but a third finger occasionally prodded at the opening, not pushing in quite yet but brushing against the tense entrance. Shadow continued to handle Sonic so casually, watching together with him as his hand disappeared underneath that twitching tail (which flicked suddenly from side to side when Shadow had pushed in the deepest he could, he noticed) and back out again, the little show in itself exciting Shadow as that third finger did eventually make its way in with a little bit of pressure.

"Do you realize now why being a pleasure slave is so sought after?" Shadow mused, spreading his fingers out and teasing around the edge of the slicked up hole. He was eating Sonic's reactions to everything he did right up, wanting to see the unique signs of how his body was fairing before climax. He would have an easier time pushing Sonic to the edge and bringing him back from it if he knew where the lines were drawn first, where they naturally landed with what he liked.

Firmly pushing against his sweetspot once more, Shadow humped up against Sonic's thigh as he arched towards his touch. "Do you feel close at all..?" He checked in just to make sure, not wanting to spoil the rest of their night by going too far.

When the third finger breached him, Sonic hissed, hips bucking a little at the sting of discomfort. It toyed with the edge of pain, but pulled back just short of it. It throbbed and made his ears flick back, but that touch against that spot — his prostate — distracted from most of the sensation. He was…disconcertingly full, now. He shifted more incessantly, now, facilitating between rocking back into Shadow’s hand or wanting to pull away, relieve himself of the unfamiliar stretch.

This felt like pushing it. There was no way another person’s cock would fit. Generous as his mentor was with the lubricant, what he was packing seemed much too challenging for Shadow to be so optimistic about making this painless for him.

Despite the anxiety, his body was fully primed again, his length jutting out in its full glory, even though he’d just cum once not so long ago. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, brows furrowed. He tried to concentrate on anything that would help stave off his orgasm, his drawn up legs twitching as he felt the impossible sensation of Shadow rutting against him. His own breath hitched, part of him yearning for it; another part of him, a little terrified. Threatened by it.

“I can…see why people do this,” he conceded between his teeth. Knowledgeably, of his own free will? He wished he’d done this sooner. Or…maybe he wished the circumstances of him and Shadow were different. Past the bizarrely intimate air between them, Shadow was his master. More accurately, he was his temporary master, priming him for someone else. Sonic could delude himself in the moment into believing there was more, but the ugly truth was just beneath them.

He wondered, not for the first time, how he would’ve liked Shadow if, say, they’d met in the resistance. Maybe he would have taken advantage of those rare nights of privacy in the bunkers; tumbled with this person who in the morning, would be fighting at his side.

Sonic dismissed those thoughts, as they weren’t useful to him. Just focus on the now. You’ve already gone this far. Play along. But since when did playing along become so enthusiastic? When had the facade of obedience turned into an earnest need to be closer?

“I’m not sure,” he answered, uncertain. “It feels…different. Not like before. I think I’m okay for now, though.”

Sonic forced his gaze back onto Shadow, but it was harder, looking at him like this. It felt harder to hold onto resentment, harder to deny the evidence of Slinger’s reassurances.

”He cares. But you’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

“But…” His gaze drew down, a little drunkenly. It fell on the full, agitated sex that Shadow was grinding against his fur. “That’s not gonna fit inside me,” he said, a little breathlessly, worry tinting his voice. What in Chaos was Slinger made of?

Shadow smirked. It was natural to be nervous, of course... he didn't have it in himself to blame those feelings for any doubt. But feelings were feelings, and he was the one in control here. At least Sonic had connected the dots in his head where this was headed, and well.. there were no plans of stopping, either.

"You'd be surprised," He replied, keeping his slow pace for a reason. Sonic's body was tight, truthfully virginal as he said. And he was fine with teasing Sonic for as long as it would take, cycling between playing with that sweetspot up towards the front of his pelvis and pushing deep until his palm could curl over the open slit of his pouch, letting his body get used to the size. He would loosen up eventually, and getting Sonic even more desperate and dizzy with pleasure would only speed up the agonizingly slow process of warming him up.

That and while he was silently flattered about Sonic's concerns of his size, Shadow didn't consider himself to be some sort of monster. Comparatively, he was maybe only a little bit thicker than Sonic when he had been stroking them together, but it wasn't overasking by any means. He would be fine, just like how he could fit that third and final finger inside.

As a last resort, if their night truly brought them nowhere-- Shadow was prepared for that, too. What kind of pleasure slave trainer would he be if he didn't have access to his fair share of dilators and other toys among the bunch?

"..you know," Shadow mentioned after a few more minutes, curling his fingers against that spot again. "If it's really that large a concern to you, it would be considerably easier if you were on your front with your hips up towards me." Pun aside, he rolled his eyes. A position change like that might feel a little less personable to Sonic, and it would have Shadow giving up a huge advantage to how he could really touch him. But the gravity would help, if he was open to it. And if he mounted him from behind... those twitching blue ears were fair game, remembering how Sonic had lost it when they were paid attention to back on the examination table.

He would have to write that down in his notes sometime, a less than common erogenous zone but a fun one to take advantage of nonetheless.

Shadow presented to choice to Sonic anyways, a shy lick dragging over the side of his muzzle in suggestion. "But if you much rather stay like this until I open you up, that's fine too. I get to see all the lewd expressions you make when I do this--" Shadow slightly positioned his hips over Sonic again, softly rutting the tips of their cocks together with a small controlled thrust.

Sonic was having difficulty focusing on what Shadow was saying to him, ears twitching to Shadow’s voice as his hips rose and fell. He was so calm, while Sonic was struggling to breathe right, and half the time when he opened his mouth to try and say something, little embarrassing sounds came out instead.

“O-oh,” he breathed, considering that. It would be easier to not have to look at Shadow while he did this—

But then he wouldn’t be able to look at Shadow while he did this.

He flushed, his gaze stuck on Shadow’s face, squirming at the lick to his muzzle. But the slide of their lower bodies together again made him throw his hips up with a desperate gasp, pawing once more at Shadow’s chest fur. He met that motion with an answering thrust of his own, and then stopped before it became too much.

“I— oh shit,” he moaned. He’d rather die than admit he liked being face to face with him like this. It should’ve annoyed him for Shadow to bring up his expressions, which were out of his control, and it did embarrass him.

…Maybe turning over was a good idea, after all.

“As, uh, as good as it is like this,” he said, unsteadily, “I think I’m too close, like this—“ It was humiliating to admit out loud, but honesty worked well with Shadow, so far. And he was really hoping he could save face in any way. Drawing his knees up, he once again thought that this would’ve been easier, restrained. If Shadow was like the asshole Captain. Instead of smooth, considering, and so damn convincing.

"Tempting as it is to make you cum on my hand again," Shadow thought out loud, sighing deeply when Sonic's body was all too happy to meet his movements. He considered having Sonic cum again, maybe loosening him up a bit more that way.. but he decided against it, bringing Sonic to a different sort of desperation a lot more fun. "I agree. Let's get you comfortable, mm?"

Shadow was the first to get up, pulling away and off of Sonic entirely so they could reposition. He slowly dragged his fingers back out, watching the little hole retract without anything to hold on around. Cute.

"Like this," He instructed, falling back into a familiar, more suited role of control. He helped roll Sonic over onto his front, wrapping his hands around those warm thighs as he pulled his rear up, a momentary palm pressing down on Sonic's upper back to keep his chest low against the mattress. "Is that okay for you? You can breathe unobstructed, nothing straining?" Shadow gave him a once over before crawling closer.

Sonic would look nothing short of beautiful in ropes, he thought, with knots tied around his body in intricate patterns and highlighting the subtle curves he had in his form, softly masculine but not exaggerated enough to be overly feminine. Lust wormed its way best into things that were denied to eye or self-- clothes that were meant to excite and tease, hiding what people were made curious about just under a sheer cloth. Or tears that fell when a slave was oh, so close to release but unable to breach that last bit of pleasure they needed by themselves.

Sonic seemed to tease without aid, his complex personality doing all the work for him. The way he denied himself first, prolonging a chase that was only inevitable to his eventual submission, and discovering that all Shadow would give him wasn't worth fighting against when he could feel so good. How that would develop from losing his virginity into budding with experience, though...

Shadow could easily see Sonic becoming a pleasure seeker, using his own wiles as bait for his master. He might be more dangerous than he was when he was but a legend, Shadow snorted lightly through his nose.

"The only thing I can see being a problem for you is your irresistibility," It was a compliment through and through, red eyes landing on that shy little tail again.

"You're quite a natural at temptation, you know that?"

It was tucked down, hiding exactly what Shadow wanted to see. Shadow smirked wider, bringing himself up to Sonic but not mounting him like he had before quite yet. He instead had brought his face up close to his tail, using a hand to keep Sonic still while his tongue snuck out to lick around the base of the appendage. He didn't just stop there, either.

Shadow didn't need to see the color in his cheeks to know how Sonic was taking this kind of treatment, the flat of his tongue exploring practically anywhere it could. The underside of his tail, the slit of his pouch, the base where his shaft revealed itself, the little dip of skin right before his hole. Shadow watched the little drips of pre hit the sheets below him, trickling like beads of honey off the tip of his cock.

He softly moaned as he finally stopped beating around the bush and licked around the lubed up rim waiting for his attention, the hand on Sonic's hip sliding up to pin his tail up and back against the curve of his spine to keep it out of the way. Shadow shut his eyes as he licked up the inside, pushing the bulk of his tongue in without problem.

To say this new position was demeaning was an understatement. It seemed like the better idea in his head. Quills out, body down, it was technically a more comfortable and instinctual position to take. But his rear was up, and his tail no defense at all— not that he was necessarily trying to defend anything at this point, it just felt vulnerable to have it pulled up this way. With his upper half angled down against the bed, his quills were more than out of the way for Shadow to do his work.

Naturally tempting. Sonic didn’t think he was doing much, not consciously. Restless with need, his body rocked under Shadow’s touch, the muscles hard with tension but incrementally, relaxing. He rested his forehead against his arms, his face inflamed by the words spilling out of his trainer’s mouth.

Shadow was newly contextualizing all the ways Sonic was thinking about his body. If he were honest, he’d never given it much consideration as far as looks went. What was there to consider? He’d always been rather utilitarian, resenting when his body gave out on him, or when a nagging, itching heat between his legs hit him randomly the older he got. Sexual appeal was certainly not something Sonic had ever been concerned about.

Over time in captivity, the too-lean body would fill out well with food, Shadow was sure of that. But already his condition was better than the first night; the wonders of a luxurious bath and regular meals. Even as much as he’d fought and detested the blunting, the removal of the dozens of little haphazard stray quills all along his head and back had shaped him nicely.

Sonic made a strangled noise between a yelp and a moan when that tongue touched him where frankly, he never thought a tongue would touch, startled and pulling so that Shadow had to hold him still.

“Fucking hell..!” he gasped, Shadow feeling the muscle there flex, but he was stretched enough for the sly tongue to push in without difficulty. He clawed at the sheets, and was grateful Shadow couldn’t watch his face. The teasing of before was one thing, the mouth on his sheath making sense, as wild as that had made him. It was…weird, but the more Shadow opened him up, the less he could deny how good it felt. His moans were shyer, half muffled against his arms as he fought to remain still.

There was a quiet litany of ‘oh god’s and Shadow’s name and whatever profanity popped into his head, falling in nonsensical mess from his tongue. His cock throbbed, though not yet in danger of coming again just yet. The tongue kept his body thrumming on a steady buzz of pleasure that, once past the initial shock of what Shadow was actually doing, was not as overwhelming to him as the mouth sucking him off before.

It did however succeed in stoking the little spark of desire for this particular pleasure, that Shadow was going for. It had gone from foreign, to uncomfortable, to scarily good— and now there was just enough sensation to have him wanting, but not quite satisfying. He squirmed again, willing that tongue to go deeper, to somehow grow bigger, to hit that spot inside where he needed it.

Sonic’s spine arched under Shadow’s hand, and Shadow felt the first press back against his mouth; accompanied by a new, needy sound, almost a whine (though Sonic would have denied it).

“I truly,” he panted out, “know nothing about anything.” He actually made a strained, breathy sound like a laugh, the first Shadow heard from him yet.

Shadow was far from the timidness Sonic held when it came to being vocal, knowing that with every sigh and murmur of his own would only serve to stimulate Sonic that much more with his mouth pressed against him like this. He could feel the tail he was holding down twitch underneath the press of his fingers, his other hand trailing up the inside of one of Sonic's thighs before he let two fingers join his tongue inside, the little push of Sonic's hips back saying more than enough of what he really wanted.

Dragging his tongue out for a moment, Shadow let a small bridge of drool pour back into the hole he was slowly opening before going back in with renewed vigor, moving his fingers in sync accordingly.

"That's okay," Shadow panted between licks, curling his fingers down this time whenever he pulled his head away to speak. "I'll teach you." 

Chapter Text

Eventually he was able to fit three fingers in there after long enough, back to where they were before. Shadow was balancing Sonic between the discomfort and the reward of more, and he thought about trying to fit in a fourth finger if he dared see just how far he could push the limits of what Sonic's body was willing to give. But.. he had to keep in mind it was still Sonic's first time. So.. another thing for later, it seemed.

Shadow had been quite right about the positioning-- with Sonic like this, he definitely felt more compliant not just by mood but physically when Shadow stretched him open. He was hot and wet on the inside thanks to his efforts, the quivering muscle around his fingers easier and easier to pry around without harm. And Sonic's body was giving him nothing but encouragement in return, meeting his hand on the way in, and Shadow no longer found it necessary to hold that little tail back, it raised up and away all on it's own when he released it.

"Would you rather me continue this for awhile still? Or do you feel ready enough to move on?" The next big step was the last thing Shadow had to get out of the way, a selfish part of him wanting Sonic to show some of that neediness back onto his own hips rather than his mouth, how it would feel like to finally reach the deepest he could inside of him with their bodies pressed flat together. But that could only happen if Sonic was ready enough, if Shadow had done enough to tip the scales between common sense and pleasure in his favor.

Sonic’s body was reacting favorably to the change in position, feeling that Shadow was somehow hitting slightly deeper now. Now, even the third finger didn’t hurt at all. Instead it felt so good. That awkward stretch he’d thought impossible to adjust to was now a stretch he was craving. Sonic’s moans came unbidden, loud even half muffled into his arm. It felt like Shadow was trying to eat him alive.

Spurring him on were the other hedgehog’s sounds; the soft moans, the sighs of pleasure, the breathy way he spoke. As if he were somehow taking pleasure in this; in giving it.

With Shadow rubbing that spot inside him, tongue teasing, his tail wagged indecently, but it remained upheld, obedient to Shadow’s unspoken whims. He was rocking his hips back now, trying with half his mind to fuck himself onto something, anything substantial.

And Shadow was offering just what he wanted. Sonic just had to realize it.

His body trembled briefly, his breathing hot and heavy against the bed as he weighed what Shadow was asking him.

Sonic wondered, not for the first time, if he should stop overthinking things. He already lost his dignity before this.

Flushed, Sonic’s head turned and he raised himself up slightly, looking back at Shadow, pointed ears trembling slightly. He didn’t know if he was ready, didn’t know if he would regret doing this after the haze of lust faded. Maybe he’d hate himself, maybe he’d hate Shadow for making him hate himself.

But stronger than the need to guard the fragile pride that was being whittled away day by day, was the need to feel good. In a way he’d never felt before, not even when he was free.

Nodding, Sonic’s gaze met Shadow’s. Perhaps he might have expected the glassy eyed stare of a blissed out drunk; instead, sharp and deliberate, Sonic’s gaze flicked from his face down, between Shadow’s legs.

“I can take more,” he said, meeting his gaze again. It had the same quality of when he said, rematch. “I won’t break, promise.”

Shadow's ear flicked with interest at that change in demeanor, his eyes half lidded with lust as he knew where Sonic was looking. Where had that stubbornness gone, that insecurity, the little flicker of fear in those eyes..?

All abandoned in dedication to Shadow's direction, as ever changing as the wind. He knew it was his job, but he couldn't help but feel a little bit flattered.

"Oh, I'll make sure you won't." Shadow removed his fingers from inside, giving one last circle around the rim in longing before reaching back for that jar of lube-- generously lathering more over his own length and a bit around what Sonic was so kindly offering to him now.

He climbed back up and over Sonic, finding a comfortable position to rest between blunted spines as his arms slid perfectly around the curve of his waist, head resting to the side of Sonic's own. His length slipped easily between those blue thighs, nervous trembles no longer a problem as they were now spreading just a little more for him in excitement.

Shadow kissed up the side of Sonic's face as he ground his hips against him, making sure he got a feel for what was about to go inside him before it ever pushed in. Just barely hovering for a few seconds, Shadow's mouth was on one of his ears again, his voice that same husky tone he had while he was prepping him up.

"And if you do ever break, it'll be because you asked me to."

That served as Sonic's one and final warning before Shadow finally angled himself right, sinking down into Sonic steadily until he had nothing left to give, his hands now holding onto Sonic's hips in assurance he wouldn't fall. Shadow growled, forcing self control to not move until Sonic was ready for him to... he nipped a fang at those wilting ears, taking a deep breath to focus.

Sonic was amazing. He had taken him in so well, his body tense with desire instead of fear-- something Shadow could push through, twitching and quivering around his cock just like how he had around his fingers and tongue. And with the excess of lube it felt like Sonic was melting inside, inviting and warm, just for him.

The sound Sonic made when it finally happened— when Shadow breached him, when he pushed inside—

He made a sound like the very breath in his body had been punched out of him. He tensed up, but that couldn’t be helped. It was way more than three fingers.

Sonic’s shoulders trembled, head dropping down as he gasped, fighting for breath. It felt like Shadow had pushed all the way up into his chest, the tip of him residing there, lodged and changing his insides.

And Shadow’s words, wracking him violently, almost as much as his cock was. His ears flickered back, tried to make sound but it only came out as a wheeze.

“I…”

Shadow was inside him. This hedgehog who he’d only known for a handful of days, who had wrangled him from the wild and brought him kicking and screaming into service for his enemy— was inside him.

It didn’t hurt, exactly. Shadow had promised it wouldn’t. More than anything, it was overwhelming. He felt like Shadow had crawled inside him and laid there with his full weight. And everything throbbed, his mind unable to discern if it felt good or not. His heart pounded hard, the way it had when he’d reached top speeds, or successfully infiltrated his target location to thwart the Prince.

“Um,” he whimpered, unable to stop his trembling from the sheer magnitude of what he was doing. “It’s…it’s a lot…”

Sonic reached back with a hand, slowly, gripping at whatever he could reach— Shadow’s thigh outside his own, pressed flush. They were closer even than before, not something he’d thought possible. For a moment, he thought even their hearts beat in tandem, the way Shadow throbbed in time with his body.

“Fuck,” he whispered, digging his claws into Shadow’s flesh. “Fuck. Shadow— please, move. I’m gonna suffocate if you don’t do something.”

"Are you sure?" Shadow asked, the little streak of pain up his leg straining him further. He could hear how shallow he was breathing now, he had been expecting to wait again like how he had during their foreplay. Staying in place until Sonic relaxed a bit, getting used to the feeling and focusing on what felt good. But..

On the flip side, he had just bottomed out so suddenly, since that's how much Sonic's body had let him in for. So he could chance it to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"How's this..?" Shadow seethed, barely pulling back an inch or two, then slowly plunging back into Sonic where he had started. Something that would keep him stretched for sure, but give him a bit of friction too. Hearing the breath being pulled from his lungs was rather addicting as well, Shadow knowing how that could send the world spinning on it's own.

"You're being so good for me," Shadow nuzzled his cheek against Sonic's skull, the light physical affection paired with the praise meant to be comforting. He continued fucking Sonic deep, feeling the light flick of his tail pressed up against his front as he did so. "No pain?" He waited for a response, pulling back a little more when he felt Sonic reply with the lightest shake of his head.

He liked the way Sonic gasped out his name, clung onto his thigh a little harder when he moved. Sonic was hopelessly adorable, and Shadow released one of his hips to swipe over his length, bringing a bit of distraction to the slave.

While the praise shouldn’t have been all that comforting, it was. Shadow’s words, as usual, were a balm, smoothing over the discomfort and the embarrassment, his hurt pride. Shadow made him feel…desirable; something entirely new to him. He’d never known what it was like to be wanted this way, underestimated the effect of Shadow’s own pleasured sighs and straining body would have on him.

With each new movement now, Sonic’s gasps were coming out louder, morphing into moans he had no hope of stifling. He could feel that spot inside him from before being pressed against with every movement, and it was somehow more intense than when Shadow had been attacking it with his fingers.

“Haa,” he gasped out, pushing his hips back. “More, faster.” He threw his hips forward into Shadow’s hand with a sharp cry, pulled from two different directions. He pushed his head against Shadow’s nuzzling, the whimpers he was trying to hold back audible to the other hedgehog this close together. No sound, no reaction would go unnoticed by his trainer.

Baring his teeth, Sonic turned his head so their mouths almost collided together, hissing out a breath against Shadow’s lips at the same time he squirmed back against his hips, cock throbbing.

“I’m— I’m close,” he blurted out, even though it embarrassed him to say. “I don’t think I can—“ A loud, shaky yelp, flinching at the new knock against his prostate. “—stop it,” he finished on an exhale, desperately.

Right as he was reaching his peak, it all came crashing down into a sudden stop. Shadow pulled entirely out of Sonic, no words spoken aside from a sadistic chuckle from the bottom of his chest. He was truly eating Sonic up for all he was worth, every reaction taken in stride to drive him further up the wall. Which included pulling him away from that final moment just for now, releasing his hands on him to do something else entirely.

For a moment, maybe he had just misheard Sonic's words-- that maybe for a second it could've been implied Sonic wanted him to stop, the beg broken between moans. But no, Shadow had been more calculated than that. He had planned this from the start, actually...

Grabbing Sonic by one of the shoulders, he flipped him around suddenly onto his back, giving him hardly any time to think-- much less object anything Shadow had paused their romp for before he threw himself back on top of the other hedgehog, pushing back inside of Sonic one last time as he finally got to see that face twist up and call out his name.

"You didn't think I'd let you get away with hiding from me all this time, did you?" Shadow took Sonic's wrists and pinned them on either side of his head, one of his hands sliding up and intertwining their fingers together. "Now let me see what it looks like when you cum." He thrusted his hips forward faster like how he been so kindly asked, groaning at the feeling of Sonic contracting all around him.

The sound Sonic made when Shadow pulled away was indignant and furious, twisting his head with a snarl. What the fuck? He opened his mouth to voice just this when he was spun around, back hitting the mattress with a gasp.

Green eyes went wide, narrow chest heaving with his breaths, feeling the hot, pleasing buzz of an oncoming orgasm fading in the moments before Shadow pressed in again.

“What—“

Sonic’s complaint was cut off with a sound too loud, too animal to be a moan. His body arched and he tossed his head, blood thudding even harder than before as Shadow took him.

Gone was the slow, easing pace of a trainer prepping a slave. This was real fucking; selfish and hard and exactly what he’d wanted without even consciously knowing it. His bandaged wrists twisted in his grasp, blood welling from the new cut on one of his palms, but escape wasn’t truly in his cards.

“Oh Chaos, yes…!” he cried, eyes squeezed shut, his face darkly flushed. Suddenly, Sonic couldn’t remember why he’d ever tried to avoid Shadow doing this to him. Pure sensation obliterated any thought that wasn’t Shadow— his weight pressing down, his deep voice, his thick sex, the sound and smell and feel of him all over. And the sight of him too, when he barely forced his eyes open, staring up at him from under his lashes. Gathered on them were tiny, wet droplets, reflexive tears wrought out of him from sensation rather than any emotion.

They thickened as Shadow pounded that spot inside, without relief, and without mercy on him. He twisted and fought him on instinct— even if that instinct was to get closer to him.

His carefully cultivated image, the Blue Phantom, reduced to a moaning, bucking creature of pure bliss. Slowly, his drawn up legs fell open, almost one at a time, not even able to cling to tension any longer. He was well beyond further impertinence, finally dropping control over his body, thrusting it into Shadow’s care.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he nearly screamed. Shadow had carved a path deep in him, and now his own body couldn’t fight him back anymore, those stubborn muscles unlocking until his insides were yielding and open, if only for this moment.

“I’m close again,” he grieved, desperately. This time, however, he didn’t have a hand on his cock, helping stoke the fire. It throbbed uselessly against his own stomach, arms jerking harder in Shadow’s grasp to try and free one. “I’m so close again, please don’t stop again— just let me, Shadow, sir—“

With every struggle against his grasp, Shadow only held him down stronger, watching Sonic arch up off the sheets and cry for him doing something else entirely to his head. And it had doubled as something better for having him last, the only time that leaking prick getting any stimulation was when it rutted against his belly with each thrust.

"I bet you would be so, so pretty, coming undone beneath me," Shadow edged them both on, leaning down to kiss and bite on Sonic's lips again as he continued fucking him. Shadow worked on constants, not once wavering in uncertainty or delay. And even if it was torturous for Sonic to be brought up to that boiling point over time rather than intensity, there would always be the feeling that that was the point.

"Go on," Those sharp little fangs nipped at his lip again, chest heaving with exertion. "I won't stop, won't stop you, just give yourself over to me."

He had a sneaking suspicion that Sonic reacted well to anything oral-- sex, obviously, but he noticed the way Sonic seemed to crack just a little bit more when Shadow said certain things, or talked in a particular way. He was just trying to sleuth out whether it was what he was saying or how he was saying it. But he wouldn't be surprised if Sonic showed interest in something like praise or being degraded, or even just explicit descriptions.

With all the profanities Shadow was quite literally pushing out of him, just cursing might be a hot spot he would have to try.

"Don't you want to be good for your master? Show me how good you're feeling, with the way you're already moaning my name? You're so perfect like this. I want to see you make a mess of yourself because of me." Shadow tilted his hips back just slightly, angling himself where he noticed Sonic's tail would twitch when he pushed his way in entirely. "Sonic."

Sonic really was intoxicating like this, only giving more reason behind Shadow's own desperation. He wanted to feel Sonic climax, to see how his ears would pin back and how his legs would squeeze around his sides as his body pulsed. Watching that was by far enough (and then some) to have him excited. And he had so much give now, what was once taut and inflexible now proving to be practically made for Shadow.

Shadow wanted Sonic full, that little hole he had gotten so familiar with to be dripping out with his seed.

Give yourself over to me. Those words infiltrated Sonic’s mind and made heat lance straight down his body. It was exactly what he hadn’t wanted, to submit, and yet anything else seemed impossible.

He tried not to feel like he was submitting to his fate. More accurately— it was Shadow, beckoning him.

Certainly if Shadow weren’t holding onto his wrists, Sonic would have been clawing him up like an animal, the hand entwined with his squeezing with crushing force, the other balled into a fist. Sonic tried to kiss back, but he could hardly breathe as it was, and he answered Shadow’s nibbling with a slightly too-hard bite of his own, coinciding with a particularly hard hit against his sweet spot.

Part of him hated that Shadow could see his face like this, felt that he probably looked humiliating and ridiculous— the other part of him just hoped Shadow wouldn’t be disappointed. And he had to nip those thoughts in the bud now before he truly did go insane and start thinking like a real slave.

But he couldn’t stop the noises he was making just because he wanted to; couldn’t even fathom rebelling against the command to cum for him just out of spite. Shadow’s words were working on him, as they always did, but especially now with Sonic stripped down and newly vulnerable. Shadow’s name fell again and again from his throat, and when Shadow said his name—

It wasn’t ‘slave,’ or even ‘pet.’ But his name. Everywhere Shadow was touching him burned up, and he was hit with the overwhelming desire to get his hands on his trainer and act on some private fantasy of revenge.

But Chaos if it didn’t feel good to give in for once. And still he threw his hips back, though he was far from being capable of meeting Shadow thrust for thrust. Without a hand touching his cock, the buildup was slower, more agonizing so that he felt it creeping up on him every second. He tried to arch up so the press of their bodies would stimulate his throbbing length, muffling a sharp moan just from that small bit of teasing touch.

“Yes, Shadow, Sir,” he said, breathlessly, and he wasn’t sure where his words were going. They were just falling out of him. He used that title, Sir, maybe in hopes that Shadow wouldn’t go back on his word and stop again if he did so. “Just don’t stop, I’ll die if you stop again—“ He begged, even though Shadow had said he wouldn’t, the feeling of going abruptly empty and almost cold when Shadow had moved off him making him feel irrationally anxious that it might happen again.

At the last second, something awful compelled Sonic to look back up at him, and was hit with a red-eyed stare he hadn’t meant to meet. It was too open, too raw for him in the moment.

“Shadow,” he gasped, brows furrowing, baring his teeth, “I—“

He cut off with a harsh cry, crushing Shadow’s hand in his own and, as he predicted, his legs coming up to squeeze with a shocking, bruising force around Shadow’s waist. That newly yielding give of his body was eradicated again, becoming a vice around Shadow. He came in hot, strident pulses of pleasure, hitting harder than either orgasm before now. It was wet as it hit Shadow’s abdomen, coming into soft black fur.

It was blindingly good, almost too much as Shadow fucked him through it, and any amazing physical feat he’d accomplished before felt like nothing compared to this. If he could keep going — if he could even just stay awake — after this, he’d be impressed with himself.

"Fuck--!" Shadow swore as Sonic pulled him in so sweetly, ironically the pain coming from their hand hold being the one thing grounding him from entirely losing himself in the moment. But even better than the tight grip around him was the moment after, where Sonic became so soft and pliant under him trying to catch his breath. He could feel the tension in his body immediately dissipate under his wrists, the sticky feeling of release that wasn't his streaked up his stomach and soaking into his fur.

And inside was indescribably better, as Sonic slumped back into the mattress and became purely warm and wonderful pleasure for Shadow to use as he pleased until he reached his own end. He was all sleepy-eyed and fucked thoroughly out, drying tear marks on the top of those blushing cheeks.

Shadow leaned down to kiss him once more, his pace changing with the setting mood in assurance not to overstimulate him. Gone was the rougher, more brutal treatment that had been more or less demanded of him, and back was the gentleness that boggled Sonic's mind so much. Shadow was pressing deep and slow now, hips stuttering in his own infliction as he ground little circles into Sonic's prostate while his tongue reflected something more apologetic, licking carefully over swollen lips.

It was sudden as orgasm overcame him, the only tell-tale signs Sonic would be able to notice (if he even could in such a state) would be a sharp inhale followed by the trill of unlikely whimpers leaving Shadow's throat, any words muffled by him sliding his tongue over Sonic's own one last time.

That, and the more obvious results shooting up inside him, a small revenge for what he did to Shadow's front. Sure, it just added more to the inevitable clean up, but Shadow would potentially chalk it up to just another lesson in the aftermath-- and maybe a bit of his own extended pleasure, when he pulled out and got to feel the mess follow, bubbling out around his tip.

His recovery time was surely a hell of a lot better than Sonic's, only a given. So a minute or so later Shadow seemed back in full control, if not a bit smug. He glanced at Sonic's spent body once more, his eyes reading something along the lines of 'I-told-you-so,' but carried over to concern at the other fluid that had somehow gotten on the sheets.

Red. He knew he had smelt iron before, he should've stopped.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" It didn't quite add up in his head. Sonic only had been begging for more, no clear pain in sight, and a quick check between his legs only confirmed there was white leaking out of where he had abused him most. No red, not even a mixed pink. So thank chaos there wasn't any tearing, but then--

"Where?" Shadow asked sternly, thumbing over the bandaged wrists. He thought back on how tightly he had gripped them. He shouldn't have broken skin though, so how?

And then he saw the cut on the palm he hadn't been holding, a small sigh of relief passing through his lungs. Now how did that slip his eye..?

It wasn't a deep gash, at least. Shadow relaxed a bit more than he had before, sitting back up on the bed. "Don't make a habit out of worrying me like that. If you were injured, you should've said something."

Sonic could only hum some sound of blissed out contentment, chest heaving as he struggled to recover so quickly. Being fucked throughout his afterglow left him exhausted, lying under Shadow with a boneless quality. His cock had tried, valiantly, to stir again, giving up a new weak little streak of cum as Shadow had sweetly, and mercilessly, continued to stimulate him after his body had given up.

Now, Sonic merely glanced over to his injured palm, having completely forgotten about it. The one he’d cut on Shadow’s spines. It was a shallow slice, but it bled nonetheless.

“Doesn’t hurt or anything,” he said, flexing his hand. And it was the truth. The dozens of near-invisible lines of scar tissue that criss-crossed all over his body was a testament to how negligible it was, even if it was a long cut. “It’s fine, nothing to stop over.”

He flushed a little after he said it. He’d been too impatient, too eager to want to put a pause for something so trivial. He tried to sit up, but quickly gave up on that idea, squirming when he realized with slight mortification that Shadow’s cum was leaking out of him. The sensation was…strange, every movement pushing another little glob of it out of him. His tail twitched as it flowed lazily down the appendage.

The haze of sex was finally dissipating, very slowly. Sonic’s brain was struggling to get back on track. Then again, not much else seemed all that important at the moment. He drew his knees up, eyes landing up on Shadow, letting his arms lay outstretched beside his head. He remembered that new feeling, the rush of warmth inside him when Shadow had climaxed. Heard the barely-there hitch of controlled breathing, the soft giveaway noise of pleasure. All of that was inside him, now.

“Really, it’s fine,” he said again, eyes lowering away from Shadow’s face, embarrassed in the aftermath, but he still felt too pleasant to think to fight his way out from under him. “Actually, it’s your hand I’m worried about.”

Only a slight fib. He knew Shadow was probably not hurt much by him, reaching over to touch the top of the hand he’d been crushing in his grip, feeling the bone of knuckle and tendon. It was, of course, fine. Anyone else might’ve had their hand broken.

Shadow's spines relaxed a bit from the way Sonic looked up at him, no pain visible from his expression. He really wasn't hurt. Thank chaos. But he still got up briefly, stretching the weakness out of his legs as he gathered similar bandage wraps from his bag to tie around the cut on Sonic's palm. He did so slowly, the action somehow carrying the same strange intimacy from back when they were harmlessly playing games together earlier.

"You? Hurt me?" He slipping out of concern and back into familiar feeling banter, bringing the freshly wrapped cut up to his lips and gently kissing over the wound before setting it back down, and sliding up next to Sonic to hold him close as they took the time to simply rest. "That's a cute thought, but if you ever managed that, I assure you that you would know." It subtly implied the sheer consequences that would ensue, not that it was something to worry about unless Sonic had plans to bring harm to him...

Which after this, Shadow was leaning towards betting on the fact that Sonic would be a little more compliant as a pet, even if he had to be unexpectedly seduced into it first.

After an allowed few moments of silent enjoyment, Shadow turned his head to look back at Sonic rather than the ceiling, eyes trailing over a soft peach chest for a moment before meeting back up at his face. "So..? Not too bad a life to live, is it?"

He had a feeling that Sonic would still be reluctant at first, especially towards the prince who had him enslaved in the first place. But that was nothing that couldn't be changed with time. It was funny, actually now he thought about it. Sonic might end up being surprised about how much he and Prince Jet actually had in common, at least when it came to their love of competition. Shadow gave a little pleased 'hmph' to himself.

Sonic wasn’t so sure he appreciated the weakness that hit his body after everything. After some moments, he pushed himself up on his elbows, drawing up one knee at a time. It wasn’t pain that hit him, but a simple discomfort that had him pulling a face.

Green eyes watched Shadow, a slight wariness entering the contented expression, a slight knitting of his brows morphing the quality of the moment.

“Not too bad,” he conceded, with a slight smirk, but his eyes held a glint of challenge. “With you, I suppose.”

He still couldn’t imagine submitting to an entire life surrounding nothing but that. Reduced to only one primary function. It was difficult enough to put his trust into Shadow, and all the new mystery surrounding the Prince wasn’t helping to ease his nerves, either.

Still, he wouldn’t let the self loathing settle. If he had to submit to anyone, it might as well as been to Shadow. He let the easy, teasing air linger between them, pulling himself up to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. His whole body felt cramped up, the tension alone making him sore, and the fact that Shadow had held him down for a while…

The flush wouldn’t leave his face, a little embarrassed he’d let it happen like that. That he’d wanted it like that.

Sonic pulled himself off the bed, needing to be up and moving, even as he felt the slide of wetness down his thigh. The blue tail twitched and tucked downward, making a soft sound of displeasure when he realized. But muscle loosened and joints popped back into place as he stretched, quills briefly flexing as he raised his arms over his head.

“Ugh..” Sonic let his arms drop, feeling an entirely new stiffness in an area he couldn’t simply stretch and relax. With slight impertinence, he glanced over at his trainer, expression a little flat. “You look very happy with yourself. Is finishing inside a customary thing for masters, or was that your own inspired addition?”

With not enough self consciousness of any normal person, he reached down and touched the thick fluid that was trailing down his thigh, making a face as he brought it up to inspect.

Shadow rolled onto his stomach and simply watched Sonic deal with the aftermath on his own for a bit, curious to see what he would do. And Sonic was right, he was pretty happy with himself. Sonic was proving to be a wild ride so far, with the extreme ups and downs he made. But.. the more ups he had, the less downs there would be. That was the idea, anyways.

He flashed a smirk when those blue thighs trickled down with white, finally getting up and into action as he shoveled through his bag again-- some scraps of rags, and he dangled them in front of Sonic before beckoning him to come back towards the bed.

"Ha. You could say it's customary just because it's so common. Think of it like a bitemark or forming bruise. It's an intimate display of ownership... a special way of marking you as your master's. That is my spend coming out of you, after all."

When Sonic followed his call to come back to him, he led him by gently grasping around his arms and pulling him back down to the mattress. He laid Sonic down on his back again, cloth in hand as he gently pressed the back of his hand against those dripping thighs in suggestion.

"However, I believe it's only proper to clean up the mess I've made, after all. May I..?" His voice was breathy again, and he didn't honestly expect for Sonic to tell him no now.

But he could.

But he could.

Just like all the other times Shadow had ever presented anything to him, when Sonic was agreeable. He knew he had at least picked up the pattern, too. It wasn't a very hard concept to grasp. The real difficulty lay in rewriting all that nervous and mistrusting survival instinct Sonic had engraved so deeply in his brain. For his first thought to be to run back to his master, to trust that Shadow--his owner-- would keep him safe and away from harm, and would bring him nothing but gifts in pleasure in return.

And maybe those survival instincts counted for something, if they had played any part in his quick obedience, even if feigned at first. But they had well served their part in Sonic's life, and he needed to let go of them now. Because he was safe, he was safe with him. And Shadow would be there to take care of him, to mend his wounds, to clean him up.

It was difficult to override his own instinct to take care of himself.

Sonic had a moment’s reluctance before he climbed back onto the bed, letting himself once again be guided and tended to. If only now because Shadow continued to be the more knowledgeable one, and even with the sudden impulse to act up and refuse, he’d already let Shadow fuck him. It was nonsensical to deny letting him handle clean up.

But he couldn’t deny that while the sex could have been an act between equals, lying back to let himself be cleaned like a pet felt more servile than that.

He was too exhausted for tension, at this point. It would at least make sense to let Shadow do this so he could watch him, even if it seemed fairly self explanatory. Sonic’s hole was tender in a way he hadn’t ever considered it could be, unable to help squirming slightly. That slightly scrunched up expression returned when one of Shadow’s hands pressed down on his lower belly, the tenderest part of his abdomen that he didn’t generally like to be touched. That was a danger zone, delicate and to be protected at all costs— now, just another part of him that could be stimulated for the pleasure of a master. When pressed down upon, he squirmed again because it forced out more of Shadow’s cum from his body. Instinctually he helped push it out, although his muzzle was burning up.

This was…a bizarre new intimacy that brought him back to the awkwardness of first being penetrated by Shadow’s fingers. He absolutely refused to look at Shadow directly while he did it.

Already, Sonic was itching to get back up and move around. Being on his back for so long just wasn’t what he was used to, and he had to push down that nagging voice that was telling him, you’ve been idle for too long, and, danger, danger, you’re missing it, and, you’ve let your guard down and now they’re coming.

None of that applied here. He had to remember that. Closing his eyes, Sonic tried to relax. Physically, yes, his body was still lax, but his heart was thrumming with anxiety, and it wasn’t even being caused by Shadow or what was happening at that very moment.

How could he possibly be converted to a slave who remained in a bed for most of his days?

“Hey, Shadow,” he said, and then caught himself with a slight wince. “I mean, um, Sir. You know the Prince pretty well…”

This felt like a dangerous topic of conversation. But how much could Sonic say? It was all too easy to toe the line of treason when it came to royalty, and surely it was no secret to Shadow how the Blue Phantom, of all creatures, felt about the royal family. But Shadow had been rather loose-tongued about the Prince himself. It could be that he was allowed such impertinence as a close confidant to the Prince, but in the case that Shadow wouldn’t flog him half to death for speaking ill of him…

Now, the anxiety showed on his face, even though he did well in hiding it. As short as their time together had so far been, Shadow was capable of detecting it.

“Do you think he’d be the type to…you said before, that most pleasure slaves rarely leave their beds. You don’t think the Prince would really keep me confined there, do you?”

Sonic felt ridiculous to ask this. He wasn’t actually planning to remain a slave, at least not for very long. But it was good knowledge to have…just in case.

Shadow looked up from his work for a mere moment, his expression reassuring Sonic before any of his words possibly could. "That's true. I think you misunderstood, however." Shadow swapped out rags once he deemed one dirty enough, simply tossing the cum-covered cloth to the floor to deal with later as he wiped up any remains with a new, dry rag instead. "They aren't confined there by force. A bed is just usually the most comfortable object to do your service on. Does that make sense?" A single hand came up to gently cup the side of Sonic's muzzle affectionately, his thumb drifting over the side of his muzzle thoughtlessly until he focused back on his task.

"Of course, you'll probably only be allowed to wander his bedchambers at first. And if that intimidates you, it shouldn't. The bedroom alone is huge, nevermind any access you'll have to various bathrooms, loungerooms, perhaps the outside balcony if you're trusted to not jump. And once you prove worthy of being able to freely roam and come when you're called, I wouldn't doubt on the prince to deny you access to the common rooms, kitchen, gardens... but those are rewards, and your rightful place will always be the bed."

Shadow paused, glancing over Sonic's body and being pleased enough with the results, considered it done. "Understood?" He clearly prompted a titled response from Sonic from such an elaborate answer.

He felt the burn of his skin on his cheek when he had caressed his hand over his muzzle, Sonic's embarrassment paired with the realization of what his life was going to be like rather adorable to watch him come to terms with. "Don't be afraid. Prince Jet isn't as ruthless as he has them all say. In fact, with how much you enjoyed our little game before I think I can confidently say that you'll be able to take to each other in at least one thing kindly."

Tossing the rest of the rags to the ground, Shadow presumed his spot back down next to Sonic on the bed to admire him as he was. He shifted his arms open to suggest Sonic snuggle up into his chest like they had done before, silent promises of pets and light massages over muscle assuredly guaranteed with it.

Sonic understood the clear moment Shadow prompted him for a proper obeisance, giving a quiet “yes sir” when expected of him, and he tried not to dwell on his willingness to do just that.

Green eyes looked at Shadow. Not watching him, as Sonic often did, with the tracking assessment of one in unsure surroundings. But he simply looked back at him. No, Sonic did not have any of the easy candor that would usually be associated with a lover— but he had natural charm, and a willingness to explore. The manners and ease of familiarity would come with time, and training.

Rolling over onto his elbows, Sonic looked at him and there was the ever familiar presence of a considerate glint. He was thinking. Deciding on a course of action. And clearly, taking in Shadow’s open invitation, he was deciding on whether to indulge the cuddling or not. Having already gone this far, done this much, it was silly to refuse this. And yet he hesitated on principle, even though the open arms and offered chest (that little patch of thick fluff calling Sonic’s name) were in fact very tempting.

But Sonic was thoroughly fucked out and beyond further impertinence. After the moment he considered whether he’d prefer to jump off and exercise Shadow’s patience or to simply rest his sore body, he opted to do what he rarely had the chance to do in the resistance; to rest.

Sonic’s body came to rest alongside his, turning over on his side and once again experimenting with the feeling that nuzzling into soft fur gave him. The tense uncertainty of when he’d accepted the affection of before was replaced now, his resistance only token in nature. The lax spines and initiative to throw an arm over Shadow’s chest spoke to his increasingly improving mood, or maybe the simple fact that he, on some level, trusted Shadow.

Sonic hummed at the prospect of what the Prince was like. He tried to shake the kneejerk derision the thought inspired in him, but that wasn’t so easy to do. Perhaps Shadow had a good standing relationship to Prince Jet, but to him, the Prince only represented everything that made his life harder. And now, represented his captivity, even more so than Shadow did. Shadow was his keeper, yes, the one with the key to his collar; but Shadow too had a master.

He tried to wrap his mind around himself and Prince Jet getting along in any capacity, and experienced a total failure of imagination. All Sonic could hear was, ”I want him at my feet.”

Before that could sour the easy mood, Sonic turned his head so that his chin rested on Shadow’s chest and he was looking up at him. Before his time here, Sonic had never been petted in his life, but found that it felt too pleasing to really fight against.

“What about you?” he asked, quizzically. “What would you do with me?”

Again, his words toed the line of appropriateness. Certainly not the place of a slave to present such a scenario, particularly when he was technically royal property, and not Shadow’s. But he presented it nonetheless, curious.

“You said before you would’ve made me a messenger. What would you have done?”

"I'm not sure I understand your question," Shadow entertained him regardless. It was rather understandable Sonic would have difficulty growing used to having Shadow in his place of master suddenly replaced even by mere words, especially with intimacy being so new and the concept of servicing the prince even newer. Blasphemous as it might've been, it didn't matter as long as it stayed in the room. "I would've done exactly that. Considering your past skills, it would've made you very efficient in a delivery trade of some sort."

That steady hand smoothed all the way down Sonic's lower back, swiping over the natural curve of his tail before repeating over between his shoulderblades, massaging lightly into the muscle. "However.. I do think you are quite easy on the eyes. Not only attractive in physicality, but your spirit, as well. You did enjoy that little game we played so very much. Perhaps I would've given you the choice to become a pleasure slave if you ever grew tired of something so laborious."

Shadow's fingers went back to those sensitive ears, scratching behind them in spots he already noted Sonic was receptive to. A low rumble of a satisfied purr started in his own chest at the way he saw blunted quills quiver and then relax under his touch. Slowly, he would watch Sonic try to fight off the clutches of exhaustion and sleep, the cute way his eyelids would begin to droop and then blink back open defiantly.

A rebel to his own body's calls, down to the very end.

"You have shown me so much potential in tonight alone, Blue Phantom." Shadow tucked his head in to gently lay a single kiss on the top of Sonic's first quill, leaving the rest of their cleanup for tomorrow.

"I have to say, I'm quite eager to see what else your future with me holds."

Chapter Text

The next two months passed by as well as they could've gone, if he were to be honest.

The Blue Phantom's legends had rumored he was fast-- and Sonic proved to be just as fast a learner. For the most part. The weeks snapped by with Shadow keeping them on track, teaching Sonic of the ways to treat royalty and those higher than him in power, from mannerisms to speech and everything in between. And with Shadow, he proved himself capable of such things and even exceeded his expectations whenever it came down to simple services, such as games or party tricks.

Sonic really was built to entertain, to please. And under Shadow's eye, he kept himself tame and trustworthy. But he could tell how much yearning there was in the blue hedgehog for company, asides from the majority of the guards he grew familiar with in passerby with Shadow while he traversed the many catacombs with Shadow. And as a pleasure slave, what was there to be upset about if a lonesome guard struck up innocent conversation, or Sonic took it upon himself to learn about their duties and how their day was?

As opposed to how reserved Shadow was himself, Sonic was proving to be quite a socialite indeed.

So much so, that the next trip Shadow would take him to the surface wouldn't be far from now, surely. Sonic was earning back his trust, and they certainly were advancing in their personal relationship as well as the one they had as slave and master.

Not to mention all the lovely times they had shared together in the night, where Shadow continued his job in expanding Sonic's sexual knowledge and experience. The entire other aspect of Sonic's position, where it was Shadow's job to have him master all the various ways of giving and receiving pleasure by hand, mouth, or otherwise. And oh, how he exceled in that, too.

Of course, as quick to pick up talent as he was, there wasn't any area without fault. Part of the reason why Sonic was so good at adapting was his natural flow of overcoming something and embracing it, and then once he was comfortable, he could be casual with something that used to be foreign and strange. This was excellent when it came to sex, conversation, games, even dance.

But chaos, was he awful at respecting authority. Forgetting titles and names, acting a little too interested instead of docile and submissive, cracking jokes around strangers who didn't take kindly to a slave not cowering under their presence. All things Shadow had to make up and apologize for, and the excuse of 'he's still learning' was running dry now almost nine entire weeks later.

This latest incident had been towards the Captain of the guard, who had entered Shadow's office to ask for a new riding crop. Sonic had of course been in his company at the time, and the mild-mannered mood he had been carrying before immediately soured when the Captain had walked in.

The defiance was something Shadow could understand. But the undeniable growl and bristling of blunted quills when their guest had stepped a bit too close could not be overlooked.

"Why doesn't that thing have a muzzle on it," The Captain jeered over Shadow, using his height as a powerplay even if he was technically lower in power. "You know it bites, right?"

Shadow quickly handed over the new crop to rid the goon from his business here, a scarily calm nod as he nudged the larger babylonian towards the door. "Thank you for your unneeded input. Return to your post, and I'll return to mine, yes? Good day."

As soon as the Captain was gone, Shadow's eyes narrowed dangerously at his disobedient charge.

"I know you have no reason to take a liking to him, as do I. But I recall teaching you basic manners, did I not?"

Sonic thought he’d been doing very admirably in captivity, and even around the most detestable members of high society.

The Captain of the guard, however, was a step above the rest. He turned his displeased expression on his keeper, though the raised quills lowered mindfully— somewhat. The presence of that particular man had set the hedgehog on edge, in a way Sonic hadn’t been in quite a long time now.

“Yes, but maybe you’d feel differently if that guy violated you with a riding crop instead,” said Sonic, tartly, and turned away, frowning back down at the map Shadow had been letting him study.

He hadn’t spoken to Shadow like that in a long time, either. He and Shadow had a mutual respect for one another, and certainly respect was hard earned from the blue hedgehog, as evidenced with almost every interaction with a stranger around the palace. Still, while a little too casual, a little too unslave-like, he’d never been outright hostile against anyone since the incident with Slinger. Shadow could tell sometimes when his politeness was forced— but Sonic had always forced it, for Shadow’s benefit.

Propping his elbows on the table — more bad manners, that particular one Shadow was finding to be a struggle to dissuade him from — he looked back at Shadow.

In all the weeks that had passed, Sonic had yet to call Shadow by the title of Master. It wasn’t a defiance thing, Shadow felt. But the title was inherently at odds with Sonic’s innate confidence and self-sustainability. He’d at least gotten using Sir down, for the most part. It usually only took a glance or lift of brows from Shadow to prompt him should he ever forget it when needed.

At this point, Shadow struggled to imagine him ever saying that word of his own volition, even for the Crown Prince.

It had never taken him so long to break in a slave, and yet if any other master had been in his shoes, Sonic would have left them hogtied and eating their own whip after any period of time alone together. Sonic wasn’t broken, he probably couldn’t be, but he was far better trained than before. He was polite (when he wanted to be), obedient (again, when he wanted to be), and had a natural charm to him that made even his slight offenses seem alluring.

Though growling at the Captain of his Prince’s guard was certainly not a slight offense.

Sonic’s lips thinned as he looked at Shadow, and then his gaze slid away, sensing that he’d failed in the moment.

“I won’t do it again,” he muttered, by way of apology, though he personally didn’t feel at all sorry for it. The Captain was a handsy, perverse bastard, who hadn’t cared that Sonic was technically a free man when he’d seen fit to violate him. He would’ve been happy to do more than show his teeth if given the chance to be alone with him.

The foreshadowed punishment Sonic wouldn't be allowed escape from was already swirling up in Shadow's thoughts, consequences fitting to such actions still being decided on. He knew Sonic well enough at this point to pick up on what he truly meant with such half-assed regrets, not remorseful for his actions but rather the fact Shadow had called him out on it.

"You won't do it again while you think I'm not watching, or you won't do it again at all?" Shadow's glare stayed on Sonic as he approached him, going so far as to grip under his chin and pull Sonic's attention back on him. On top of all of that, there was still no honorific.

"Sonic. Your behavior as my pet reflects on my behavior as your trainer. And yes, while you are the single-handedly most stubborn case I've ever had to deal with in my years, things like this ruins the trust the kingdom puts in my servitude. How you act isn't just about you. Even after your training is considered complete and you spend your days up in the palace instead of my workspace down here." He bore into him sternly, letting go of Sonic's jaw as he picked up the leash hanging from the wall instead.

The more he thought about it, perhaps it was lacking of him as a trainer to keep such a short leash on Sonic-- literally. It was a rare occurrence they ever spent any time apart, Shadow always keeping a close eye on him these past months through his progress and downfalls. What might've been needed at first was now overshadowing the weak points in Sonic's behavior overall, especially if Sonic was only worth his salt when Shadow was an arm's length away. And in times like these when he chose to act out, it was mild only because Shadow was there.

He knew exactly what to do now, for punishment.

"I'm going to ask you again for that apology, please." Shadow's thumb clicked the metal clasp on the end of the leash mindlessly, the sound echoing in the room. How well Sonic would fare now would depend how rough the treatment Shadow would deem fit for him during the punishment he had planned in his head.

It had been an unforeseen concern— Sonic’s obedience to Shadow’s authority had seemed like a well rounded victory. But now presented a new problem. Sonic was almost perfectly behaved for Shadow. But when it came to others, his obedience left something to be desired, to say the least. He often brushed off or ignored direct orders from others in higher status, and while Shadow had ensured him he was not to partake in sexual activity without his master’s direct approval — as if Shadow had any worries, there — he was subservient to the rule of nobility and courtesans, given that their orders were not beyond his designated tasks.

And Shadow corrected him where necessary, when Sonic shirked duty to the court in favor of pledging his loyalties to Shadow alone. It was problematic, if slightly flattering.

It also resulted in situations exactly like this one. A rankled guardsman who reported directly to the Prince was not the kind of person Sonic wanted to anger. After all, even if Jet was not his Prince, he was going to be his master, and he could be punished for offenses entirely unrelated to his service should the right mouth crow about it to Jet.

And Prince Jet wasn’t unreasonable, but Shadow knew he wouldn’t tolerate any member of his household embarrassing his rule; least of all a pleasure slave.

Sonic’s demeanor shifted when Shadow’s hand gripped him, and while it would take some more time yet for Sonic’s reflexes to not swing directly into violence when he felt threatened, it was an improvement that his spines only raised briefly at the sudden grab, and then fell promptly, no intention of attacking Shadow. His petulant expression adjusted itself, looking more properly remorseful, as it did whenever he seemed to disappoint him.

Sensing the oncoming punishment, Sonic felt rather dispirited. While frequently corrected, he’d only suffered real punishment twice before now. The first being the incident concerning Slinger, the second being when Sonic had reflexively struck out against a young noblewoman who’d reached out to stroke him and had startled him. He’d been regretful at the scratch his claws had left behind on her hand, and Shadow had shown him some leniency, explaining to the courtesan his origins as a fighter and saving Sonic from a much more dire punishment by public flogging. The lady’s eyes had sparkled with wary awe and seen Sonic in a new light, dissuading the guards from punishing him harshly for the major offense, sympathetic to the hedgehog when he’d put on a very convincingly apologetic show of lowered ears and kneeling down at her feet.

Both times, he’d had the leniency of being brand new to his training. Now was a little different, and Sonic bristled, because he hated the Captain. A part of him rebelled, hurt, that Shadow would not take his side against him, which was of course absurd. Shadow wasn’t here to take sides, but to teach Sonic subservience.

Still, he couldn’t hide the slight indignity in his face.

Admittedly…he’d been trapped here longer than he’d anticipated. He reminded himself daily that his real goal was escape, not quivering with worry over Shadow’s reputation. And yet he felt the real sting of shame that he might embarrass the only person here who treated him kindly, like a thinking, feeling person with a will of his own. It went against his own principles to betray someone like that.

“Sir, I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it this time. “You know what I think of you. It’s just— the Captain—“ He bit off the words, distastefully. “The Captain is a snake. He’s not a good fit for the Prince’s household. Does a reputable palace guard violate prisoners he takes in custody?” He couldn’t help the slight bite to his words. Though not for Shadow, they were aimed at him, without the object of his disdain to throw them at.

"Good boy," He accepted the apology as he clipped the leash to the metal loop around Sonic's collar, tugging softly with no discomfort to begin his lead. Shadow's voice was kept low as if who they were talking about might still be lingering nearby, walking in pace with Sonic to yet another room down a winding hallway that went even deeper into the ground.

"You raise a quite agreeable point, but for what it's worth-- the Captain has held his position before Prince Jet took a more powerful position on the throne. Things were much different in Babylon, and while I am above him in rank, he holds a seniority over even one such as myself." Shadow explained as he trudged open another door, lighting the torches on the walls with a wave of his hand.

Sonic wasn't the only one with words of disdain to give as Shadow closed the door behind them. "Slaves were less 'trained' and simply 'broken' those days. I do not believe he sees the give and take of slave and master as equal, nor does he want to. With how many riding crops he burns through, it's a rather disgusting display of his starvation for a gross abuse of power."

Speaking of which, Shadow merely led Sonic to a pair of standing wooden stocks, unlocking the mechanism on top and opening the thick oak shackles with a dreary implication.

"Come. You're familiar with the way I use my power over you by now, aren't you? I can't tell you it'll be quick, but you don't have to be afraid."

Sonic’s heart sank as soon as they came into the new room, eyes landing on the offensive wooden receptacle.

Stocks. Sonic had been very fortunate in avoiding flogging as a punishment thus far. He knew it to be largely a public type of punishment, and had been lead to watch one such display by Shadow, to some poor slave who had committed some crime against their master. He’d watched the young man writhe and cry out.

Sonic also knew that flogging was a punishment that men, with difficulty, endured. He knew it would not kill him — it probably couldn’t, not that Shadow would ever go that far on anyone — but he might simply be in a great deal of pain. It was a punishment that was tricky to perform on certain Mobians, such as himself. The defensive spines prevented the upper half of his back from being touched, even blunted as they were. But that didn’t mean everything below them wasn’t fair game.

Sonic took in a breath. Probably worse than whatever pain he received, it was going to be a blow to his pride. It was a punishment designed to strip the dignity of the victim. You couldn’t take it with your head up, or your shoulders set. That, he knew, was Shadow’s intent behind this particular choice of reprimand.

Sonic approached it like a man nearing a cliff edge, feeling the sturdy wood of it first, getting acquainted with the loathsome device before he was forced to bow down for it. It brought color to his cheeks, because his new status as a pleasure slave recontextualized what it meant to be bent over like this. But this wasn’t the amorous setting he’d become acquainted with, and that tail tucked firmly down, saving himself just that tiny fraction of dignity as the stocks closed over his neck and wrists. Sonic had to stretch his neck uncomfortably, the wood catching on blunted spines until he curved his neck to relieve himself of the discomfort. It wouldn’t have been possible pre-blunting, but now he was defenseless against the restraint around his neck.

Sonic kept his breathing calm, and reminded himself that Shadow had no interest in marring him too much. If not for the sake of his health, then for the sake of his looks. New scars wouldn’t appeal to the Prince.

His hands curled into fists, and he resisted the desire to jerk against the humiliating restraints, knowing it would only show Shadow his further impertinence, and prove nothing.

“I’m ready, Sir,” he muttered quietly, eyes fixed on the wall ahead of him, clenching his jaw.

Sonic's suspicions were in the right place-- Shadow could feel Sonic's gaze on him as he picked up a larger flogger hanging from one of the nails in the wall, harmlessly dragging his fingers through the leather straps that dangled as if to straighten them out before use. He tested it gently on his own thigh, steadying his leg up on the wall as his wrist flipped back and forth.

Satisfied with the sensation he was going to inflict onto his slave, Shadow then approached Sonic calmly. "No need to be so tense.." Was the confusing reassurance, as if he was rescuing Sonic from the stocks rather than having been the one to lock him in them. Walking a circle around him, Shadow stopped behind Sonic to where he was most exposed. Without being even in his peripherals, Sonic wouldn't know how or when he would strike him like this, left at guesswork and Shadow's mercy.

But he was always at Shadow's mercy, no matter his position, no matter the time.

Shadow laughed softly as instead of coming in with the flogger first, he trailed his hand up the inside of Sonic's thigh, watching his body twitch rather intensely at the touch. His palm rode up the entirety of his leg starting from his knee, coming to cup up around his pouch rather warmly and pressing higher before swiping up where that timid little tail was tucked, and repeating up from the other side.

If Sonic's body was taut and braced, he would just have to go harder on him. Which was.. unnecessary as he saw fit.

Next he merely dragged the flogger's straps over Sonic's lower back, letting him get a mind's image of just where Shadow was keeping the tool.

"When you first came to me, I made you be honest about your virginity. I know that you were first caught by the royal guards before I was the one to chase you down, finish their jobs where they could not. But you also speak of how the Captain violates his captives. So tell me, Sonic." Shadow's hand ran quickly up Sonic's thigh again, this time on the outside.

He squeezed up the muscle in warning before hitting it once with the flogger, the sound much harsher than the actual pain that followed it. "Did he violate you?"

Sonic’s skin jumped predictably at the blow, although it was more startling than it was painful. It took him out of the unexpected pleasure when Shadow touched between his legs, delicately, stifling a quiet noise, followed by the gasp after the first strike.

The restraints rattled briefly, though he didn’t jerk so much as jump slightly, settling after, the sting radiating and then dropping off. Sonic’s breathing quickened, and he continued to stare ahead of him, confused by this new line of questioning. He swallowed before he answered, truthfully.

He recalled the troubling memory. The Captain in all his smug satisfaction at capturing him, the Blue Phantom, and bringing him under heel. Recalling too how Shadow had pulled the unwilling truth from him about his sexual experience, he saw no point to lying. Somewhere along the line, he’d begun to trust Shadow’s intentions.

“They caught me in the market,” he said, voice almost a whisper. He hadn’t spoken about that day. Even trusting, liking Shadow even, it upset him too much to dwell on the day of his capture. Shadow could sense this, the blue body briefly trembling under his hand. “I was…just trying to find something to eat. They claimed someone in the market sold me out to the Prince but…I didn’t believe it. I mean, who knows, maybe.” His fists clenched, tight. “It took half the guard to get it done. They had me, all tied up and everything, and I expected to probably be killed outright.”

Sonic’s body twitched again at the drag of the flog’s tendrils, though he didn’t recoil from Shadow the way he had from the Captain.

“He didn’t use his hand,” he said, reluctantly. “Not directly. He…like I said, he used the crop.” Sonic had shied so violently from Shadow’s coaxing, encouraging touch, he could only imagine how the rebel hedgehog had reacted to the violation by men he perceived as threats to his life. That thrashing, indignant anger, driving his hatred of this kingdom and those associated with it. That hatred that Shadow had worked hard to overrule.

“You know the feeling, when you try to force something in there? If you try and reach in before it’s ready?” Shadow would know it well. Had to train out that desire in masters to forcibly pull unwilling slaves from the confines of their sheaths, because the pain it caused counteracted whatever pleasure the master was trying to elicit. “It was like that, with the whip.” Sonic exhaled, and then laughed quietly, humorlessly. “I mean, until he got it close enough to my face so I could snap it.”

Shadow continued to lazily drag the bristles over the small of Sonic's back and thighs as he talked, silent as he listened. It amused him how someone so unruly could still be so good at the same time, his self defense only to be expected from a warrior. His hand toyed around Sonic's tail before forcing it up like he had so many times before, drifting the straps of the flogger over Sonic's rear and lowering the base of the grip just beneath it.

There was no pressure to push in, of course, he just held it there. A simulation of before, by the story he was recalling. "I see. How crude. And yet, your actions saved both of your hides. Could you have imagined if he had gone through with it, and defiled your value even before the Prince designated you as a pleasure slave? He should be thanking you for your struggles."

Even if his words were praising Sonic, Shadow let go of his tail and let itself protect what little it could again before quickly snapping another two smacks of leather against the tender flesh, one for each cheek. Shadow's other hand then smoothed over one side, spreading Sonic wide for a moment to examine his work before letting him go again.

"I think I would've liked to have seen his face when that mouth of yours broke his crop in two. It would've been amusing to see someone put him in his place so unexpectedly." Shadow smirked to himself, letting the flogger tickle over the insides of Sonic's thighs again absentmindedly. "I'm glad to hear that I truly got to be the first one inside of you. I must be lucky. Or perhaps..."

And then, another hit to the inside of his thigh, and Shadow cupped over the tingling skin again to feel the rush of heat circle around the area. He ran his warm fingers back up around where Sonic's pouch lay, letting the pain and the pleasure mingle together and dissipate before repeating on the other side, keeping a balance.

Another question. "Do you think I'm lucky to be your master, or that you're the lucky one to be my slave?"

Sonic could’ve blamed his body’s eager reactions on some fucked up Pavlovian response to Shadow’s conditioning, but it was nothing so complicated as that. It was quite simple; Shadow, and everything he did, spoke to Sonic’s desires. Desires he hadn’t even known he could harbor.

The tangle of pain and pleasure was usual of Shadow, particularly when he was punishing him. He rocked in the restraints, that still-shy little hole when it was revealed by his tail being forced up twitched at Shadow’s touch. Sonic’s face burned hotly at the idea that Shadow could take him like this. Fully restrained, he would be able to do nothing about it if Shadow wanted to. That too was the lesson Shadow was always teaching him, even if he’d always provided Sonic the choice when it came to intimacy.

Sonic’s mind was having trouble focusing, eyes fluttering. His pain tolerance was extremely high, as Shadow knew. To truly hurt him, one would have to go very far to do it. Further than Shadow ever planned to go. Just a taste of pain, just the presence of discomfort was enough for his purposes. As expected of the rebel, the subjugation of his pride was far more effective. Even if Shadow lashed him bloody and raw, it would never teach someone like Sonic a real lesson.

Sonic couldn’t help arching into the touch to his thighs, his tail even raising incrementally as his sheath was touched. And yet it wasn’t enough to truly please him, too brief and too light. As if subconsciously asking for more, that body arched, tail raising briefly of its own volition as a faint throb of heat pulsed between his legs.

“It’s a trick question, Sir,” he gasped out, his rear tucking in on itself at the newest blow. “Either way I’m flattering myself, or I’m sucking up to you.” He let out a little breath and strained to turn his head, but he couldn’t see anything beyond the stocks.

“I think,” he considered, “That I’m lucky you took me on, and not anyone else, Sir.”

"Good answer." Was all he said as he removed his hands from Sonic entirely. Shadow gave him one last whip over his rear, the hardest one to come as he considered himself finally finished. He hummed to himself in satisfaction as he looked over the awkwardly standing tuffs where fur had been brushed out of place, the skin underneath pinkened and flush, sensitive and hot to the touch.

The sound of his footsteps walking back to the wall were the next thing heard as he hung the flog back up to its rightful place, and Shadow examined over Sonic in the stocks as he came to a pause in front of him.

"And you know how you can keep me as your master?" He said all too innocently, leaning forward to bring their faces closer together. That smug smirk was still plastered all over his muzzle, quite pleased with himself and the noticeable blush on Sonic's cheeks. And before he could answer, he did that for him, as well. "By being a well-behaved pet, even when I might not be three feet away from you."

Instead of stepping forward to release Sonic from the stocks, Shadow turned away, glancing over his shoulder as he grabbed hold of the door.

"A slave's behavior shows through how their master treats them, whether it's seen or not."

And without any more reassurance when, or even if he would be back or not, Shadow left, the heavy door closing shut tight behind him.

It wasn't often Shadow used space as a device to let Sonic simmer on his thoughts, but it had been two months now. Surely he'd learned something humble, he hoped. If he came back to the stocks being knocked over somehow or otherwise broken, then he'd know exactly where to place Sonic on his loyalty not just towards Shadow, but in his training.

And if he came back to see Sonic right where he left him, then tonight would call for reward. He did sincerely hope for the best, that Sonic could take Shadow's commands of being good while having the open option of being left to his own devices, to choose his master's will. Not just to avoid further punishment, but he wanted Sonic to show him dedication.

Dedication he definitely was more than capable of, especially when it came to everything else he did as a pleasure slave.

At first he had thought sex would be their biggest task to overcome, with how adverse and scared of it Sonic was before. Which wasn't the case now so much, but he'd yet to ever call Shadow 'Master'. One day he'd realize there was more to that word than the power dynamic it represented.

As he walked back up the hallways, Shadow thought back on the times Sonic's behavior had stood out to him. Moments where he had shown interest in what Shadow was teaching him versus being tricky until Shadow proved to him it wasn't so bad. Those were key in getting Sonic to be wholeheartedly trustworthy in him.

Usually it had been with learning different kinds of games, or little things about how the kingdom worked or how the prince was. But there was, among all those lessons, one time that stood out unlike all the rest.

Like with most intimate acts since first breaking the ice with him, Sonic had taken very eagerly to new experiences that felt good. While probably not yet ready to roll over for his Prince with his tail wagging in the air the way he did with Shadow, he was certainly beyond the fearful shyness of being touched. The most evident moment of Sonic’s promise of potential being the first time he’d taken real initiative of his own.

As was the usual beginning to their lessons, it began with Sonic under Shadow, the devilish mouth of his mentor kissing him. Sonic loved kissing, Shadow learned. He seemed enamored with all things concerning Shadow’s mouth, and he quickly picked up on it, none too shy about replicating the moves of his master— and improvising them, sometimes. While some choice masters would find the spontaneity off putting, a too-eager pleasure slave not appropriate, Shadow knew his Prince well enough to know that it was well within his tastes, and saw no need to correct Sonic for it.

It all stemmed from the natural charm that shined, slowly, through the defensive shell. The fact that his idiot Prince had been enamored by the Blue Phantom headbutting him and slandering the royal family name was testament that he would in fact enjoy the slightest bit of unslave-like impertinence here and there.

Sonic had stared up at Shadow with something new and glinting in his gaze. His stamina was improving surely, lasting longer and recovering faster. It instilled a confidence in him, embracing an unfurling sexuality Sonic hadn’t thought feasible in himself before. So when the thought came to him to get experimental, he acted on the whim that told him to flip Shadow onto his back, pinning him.

Grinning down at him, they could’ve been sparring, instead, with the way Sonic glowed with victory when Shadow did not immediately reprimand him or shove him back down. Sonic’s hands ran down the fluffy chest and he glanced down at the emerging, glistening sex between Shadow’s legs, his own having slipped out long before. He’d gotten enough handle over himself by now that Sonic could withstand being aroused without immediately chasing relief, though he still harbored an impatience that Shadow was whittling through.

And almost always, Shadow applied that sly, wonderful mouth on him, driving him crazy. When the idea struck, Sonic moved on impulse rather than obedience, not stopping to be embarrassed at the idea. He’d yet to return that kind of favor, to try and use his mouth that way, and yet it felt like something he needed to try, out of his own desire.

Lying belly down to the sheets, green eyes flickered up to Shadow’s face, gauging his leniency with Sonic going off course like this, satisfied instead by the smug adoration he saw there.

Face to face with it, Shadow seemed a lot bigger when he considered taking it into his mouth versus when it was inside him. It was intimidating— but Sonic had never backed down from a challenge before. In reality, he was close to Sonic’s own size, proudly curved and jutting, darkly flushed. When he touched it, he encountered the familiar texture like hot silk, sliding his thumb over the pronounced ridges of the underside.

Sonic only briefly contemplated how exactly he’d get it to fit, and found that agonizing over the mechanics was a useless endeavor. With his eyes on Shadow, he took the first exploratory press of lips, and enjoying the experience of that, unfurled his tongue there. With some experience now of being on the receiving end, Sonic followed memory and drew himself up to bring the curved tip into his mouth, suckling just there.

It was impossible that he was doing this; the Blue Phantom, sucking his cock. And that’s what he was doing, now. Pulling back, his own eager breath left him in an exhale as he observed the new wetness at the tip of Shadow’s cock, pleased with it before he went back in to apply his tongue again.

Granted, Shadow's curiosity of where Sonic would take him was stronger than anything else that could've gotten in the way, the only commands given wordless and pleasure seeking between both their bodies. So when Sonic tucked himself sweetly between Shadow's legs, there was only an urge to go on, just to see what he could do.

He let Sonic grow familiar with himself, a soft 'ah' escaping his lips as ebony spines softened and lowered. Shadow pulled up a hand to place on Sonic's head, not to move him in any forceful way but to softly rub at one of those turned ears in praise.

This isn't even what he meant to have played out that night, but Sonic had taken him by surprise and just went for it, stepping into the role of pleasing his master like it was what he was made to do. And that shy tongue wrapping around and licking up just under the tip, finding the spots that left Shadow the hottest and had him moaning softly into the air…

The look Sonic gave him when Shadow peered down at what was happening between his legs, wanton for approval and cheeky because he knew he was doing a good job, daring to push his limits further for Shadow as that hot mouth tried to suckle him down to the root. Even if it only lasted a few moments, it got the desired effect with Shadow's hips twitching up helplessly, offering more just as much as his master's body demanded more.

And it didn't go unnoticed, the mild wet spot of Sonic's own excitement on the bed, drooling down from his own cock as he serviced Shadow. That giving pleasure like that also had Sonic in his own sense of euphoria, every twitch and pulse of the length in his mouth telling him what a good job he was doing enough to spur him on.

Clearing his throat, present-day Shadow brushed off the stirring arousal of the memories as he pressed on walking down the catacombs. If only he could get Sonic to experience pleasure like that doing any kind of service for anyone, but that would require him to open up to a master who wasn't himself. Maybe toys, or some other lesson in forgetting humility would be next on their teachings.

Present moment Sonic was not so wonderfully lax and amorous.

He’d been mortified that Shadow was actually leaving him there. Even calling out to him hadn’t worked. When the polite please of ‘Sir?’ didn’t sway him, he called him by name, and still, Shadow left him.

Worry momentarily spiked his pulse as he twitched in his restraints and jerked. If he really put his whole body into it, he could probably break free. While he’d be hard pressed to get enough momentum at a stand still in this awkwardly bent position to spin free, he could probably do it.

With a growl of frustration, he cried out Shadow’s name again and pulled hard against the stocks.

“Shadow!” he snapped, but as his previous complaints, his voiced echoed uselessly in the room, landing on no ears but his own. “Damn it,” he hissed, and settled again. His back was going to hurt like this— not to mention his entire upper body, confined this way.

He was at least left alone long enough for the embarrassment of his position to wash over and off him, silently resigned. Like he’d done on many boring, lonely nights in his room, he counted bricks ahead of him.

Damn you, Shadow. Do I really deserve this?

And the bastard had even teased him before he’d gone, the low, simmering heat between his legs not going anywhere. He wasn’t hard, or swollen yet, but the insinuation of more had his body interested. Sonic sighed through his nose and let his eyes fall shut, without even anything to prop his head up comfortably. The sting of the flogging throbbed mildly where he’d been stricken, though Shadow had far from really harmed him. Shadow was nearly endlessly patient— and he took that for granted, sometimes. Yet now Shadow showed how cruel he could be.

“Ugh…”

Sonic regretted snapping back at him, though he couldn’t promise it would never happen again. Shadow was, at his core, very no-nonsense, even if he let things slide here and there. And Sonic was yet again learning this the hard way.

He was so entrenched in his thoughts that he didn’t register the subtle sound of approaching footsteps until the door swung open, letting in a little more light.

“Shadow?” he perked up, relieved. “Sir?” he corrected himself, automatically, his drooped body rising slightly.

But the footsteps were too heavy. The gait was too lumbering, Sonic’s senses making the hair on his body raise before the visitor spoke.

“Well, if it isn’t the Prince’s bitch.”

Sonic froze, going hot with anger and cold with dread all over, heart spiking and body going rigid as stone. His spines raised slowly— but they were no defense at all, now.

Sonic whispered a colorful swear under his breath, hearing without seeing that the Captain was in here with him, shutting the door behind them.

He didn’t scream. It wasn’t in his programming, and there was no one to hear him besides which. He readied himself for a fight, if it came to it, but recalled that he was trying to behave for Shadow.

“Wrong room, buddy,” he said, carefully not struggling, as to not alert that he was actually left here alone like this.

The Captain didn't seem to care he might've been interrupting something, a deep scowl on his face with just how casually this lowlife slave talked to him. "That's an awful lot of rudeness coming from something in stocks, you runt. Are you all confident now that your kissass excuse for a trainer isn't here to keep you in line?"

Freshly new riding crop in hand, the Captain swatted it against the meat of his palm a few times to intimidate before approaching Sonic. "Is this his sorry excuse of a punishment for you? No wonder all the slaves nowadays don't cower as they should." He muttered, a bushy eyebrow quirking up as Sonic met his stare eye-to-eye.

"You know, I was surprised when I saw him take you down here... I was even more surprised when he told me to come in here to teach you a lesson myself. Since you fucking growled at me like some sort of feral blue rat."

The look on Sonic's face was like hearing the sound of glass breaking, the sheer moment of disbelief followed by deniable confusion enough to make the Captain toss his head back and laugh, spit noticeably flying out of his mouth as he did so. "That's right! Nothing like salt in your own wounds, you prickly little shit."

Then came the riding crop, the same one Shadow had handed him just earlier-- striking down harshly on Sonic's behind, over sensitive skin that Shadow had flogged prior. But the Captain's strikes were nothing like the precise, controlled and teasing whips Shadow had given. There was too much anger and power behind these, harsh red lines swelling up behind blue fur with potential to bruise.

He only stopped when that crop nudged against Sonic's tail, trying to push under it with renewed purpose. "Maybe I should finish what I started before the Prince spared your sorry life. You're a pleasure slave now, right? You'd probably get off on it, whore."

No. No fucking way.

Mortification left Sonic temporarily speechless, color draining at the idea that Shadow had sent him here.

He was lying. He had to be, right? Surely, after everything he told him— after every confession he’d coaxed out of him—

Betrayal made his chest hurt, and nervous sweat made him hot and cold all over. The words had taken him so off guard that he let out an unrestrained yelp of pain at the strike— and then it fell again, and again, and Sonic gnashed his teeth together fiercely to stifle any more sound.

At least until that instrument nudged under his tail. Sonic thrashed violently, the stocks holding him straining dangerously despite his deceptively slight build. That tail tucked firmly down, stiff and hard to prise away hands free.

Torn between righteous anger and the worry that he might be directly opposing Shadow’s orders, Sonic swallowed a miserable protest in his throat. Shadow…wouldn’t have called for this, would he? He’d been good. He wasn’t the most obedient to strangers, but— damn it, he’d been learning, hadn’t he? He’d been trying!

Desperately, he tried to mentally grasp onto how he could save the situation without violence, even if images of bloodied revenge were all he could focus on with any sort of clarity.

“I’m being saved for the Prince,” he said, a little too loudly, hoping that would be good enough reason to persuade him to back off. The pads of his bare feet slid dryly across the cold stone floor as he fidgeted, trying with every straining muscle to pull away, unable to go further than a few inches.

The burning red welts were on fire against his skin, but they were negligible in the face of this new threat. He wasn’t virginal any longer, no…but that did not mean that being raped like this wouldn’t hurt. It didn’t make him any less nauseous to consider just because he’d gotten used to intimacy with Shadow.

“He’d be very displeased if you did anything to me,” he added, quickly, his chest moving too fast. From what little he knew of Prince Jet by rumor alone, he clung to the hope that invoking the bad temper of the young Prince would work in his favor.

"Then you better stay tight after I'm done with you, and they won't execute you at the gallows for seducing the stunning Captain of the Guard, eh?" He flattered himself as he cackled, the riding crop sparing Sonic for now as a large hand grasped around Sonic's waist, forcing him into position.

There was just one problem. Even with the Captain keeled over the stocks Sonic was locked into, he would either have to hold Sonic's lower body off the ground the entire time to actually fuck him, or squat down on his knees which would inhibit his ability to thrust. The height difference between them was too great, bound like this.

Cursing once again, the Captain grabbed some heavy chains and cuffs hanging off the wall with the rest of various equipment, quickly undoing the stocks and yanking Sonic's neck and wrists out of their holds as he wrenched his arms to be bound behind his back.

"You want it, don't you? You really are a whore, you're so eager to fuck, you're practically letting me do this." He didn't waste time on locking Sonic's cuffs in place however, one hand under blunted quills and scruffing him tight by the nape.

Even if Sonic was glaring pure hatred at him, it didn't deter him from shoving a gag in Sonic's mouth and clasping that around his head, not taking any chances of being bitten in his wicked plans.

"I think I liked it better when you struggled."

The Captain then hoisted Sonic up under his arm, leaving the room entirely to search for a chamber with an actual bed. Eventually he did find one not too far off, not even bothering to lock the door behind them as he more or less tossed Sonic onto the mattress and clambered over him, strong hands spreading blue thighs apart. "I'd prepare you, but I think your blood should make you wet enough on my dick just fine."

Panic was fully set in, now. Sonic had hoped that going Shadow’s route would help him out of the situation without disobeying— but clearly, that wasn’t going to work, here.

The words caused pinprick fear to needle him, nervous sweat breaking out over his back. He hadn’t feared the beatings, or the lashing, and he hadn’t even feared Shadow when he’d overcome him the first night of his capture, using that strange jewel to inhibit him. But now he thrashed, though disbelief over the progression of events had him react too late to avoid the new restraints.

Even still his mind whirled. Shadow, you wouldn’t have ordered this, would you?

Was it worth being obedient, even for Shadow, if he had?

Once he was horizontal again and on a bed, he decided no, it was not.

Just over two months since his capture, and Sonic had lived a newly luxurious, almost pampered lifestyle. He hadn’t even gotten to run free anywhere, and no chance at exercise. And of course, no need for fighting. Trimmed down and edges blunted, he wasn’t quite so threatening at first glance, anymore.

And yet, a lifetime of merciless conditioning by battle rendered over two months of inactivity absolutely moot. It was not even long enough for callouses to heal. Every violent instinct that Shadow had been methodically training out of him came alive in desperate, vital need. Self preservation won out over the idea that this might be Shadow’s true punishment. Probably not this part, no…he couldn’t fathom it. But being visited by the very Captain he’d disrespected? Possibly.

There was no world, no scenario where Sonic could lie back and allow this to be done to him, Shadow’s reputation on the line or not. And the Captain was big; he wanted to hurt Sonic, and he would achieve that very easily.

Sonic snarled behind his gag, and though his hands were bound, the Captain hadn’t bound his legs, which were his best weapon if he could use them. His hedgehog’s flexibility made it easy to curl up and bring them up, kicking out, viciously, the hit against his chest hard enough to break bone— though he couldn’t quite get the momentum he needed to do that much damage, on his back like this.

When that pushed the Captain back, successfully, he risked getting his legs caught when he kicked out a second time, aiming for his jaw this time. He didn’t have a plan beyond that— his movement was extremely limited with his hands bound behind him. He’d lose balance and fall before he ever got to a running pace. He twisted his head, trying fruitlessly to free his mouth of the gag, but no amount of biting or pushing against it could dislodge it.

Shadow, he thought, as the Captain regained his bearings, too big, too burly to be as injured as Sonic needed him to be, Take this back!

"You slimy fucking BITCH," The Captain seethed, yanking Sonic back towards him by the ankle and shoving the limb high towards his head as he flipped him around. The nightstand next to the bed tipped over in the struggle, the frame under the mattress creaking loudly with the shifting weight.

Even from the upper level of the dungeons, there was a clatter. Not too unusual, but something in Shadow's gut retched where he stood, immediately chaos controlling back in front of the room where he had left Sonic.

Opening the door, Shadow's eyes widened and then narrowed. The stocks Sonic was once in was open, all remains of the blue hedgehog gone. The noise he must've heard was probably him breaking out of the restraints, making an escape attempt when Shadow had left him alone again without much other thought.

Where did he go wrong? Shadow cursed softly to himself as he inspected the carnage left behind.

"Such a frisky thing, you are.." Shadow smoothed his hands over the stocks, surprisingly undamaged. He shouldn't have underestimated Sonic's rebellion, his strength, his nature. Perhaps he was a fool for spending so much effort on him, teaching him not how to submit but how to waggle that silver tongue at him and ease Shadow's defenses low enough to slip through the ever growing cracks.

Then, he stopped. Red eyes gazed upon the presumably broken lock, only to find the thing entirely intact. Sonic had played sheer magic on him, having somehow slipped out of the wooden stocks effortlessly when he had been sure he was stuck before.

Another crash came from a room down the echoing halls, and Shadow gasped in alarm.

"Damnit..!"

His skates burst to life under him as he shot down the hall towards the ever growing noise.

Wasting no time to reach the source, Shadow swung open the heavy door as if it weighed nothing, the black in his pupils narrowing to deadly slits as the color around them glowed a sharp crimson.

There it was in front of him, the Captain of his Prince's Guard, over Sonic as he carelessly spread him apart.

He didn't think, he just moved. He was already present in the room, but Shadow disappeared in a flash of light and reappeared right behind the Captain's head, a solid skate alit with magic kicking the rest of his sorry body to hit the wall.

"Ma-Master Shadow! Sir, my apologies, this slave seduced me with his--" The Captain heaved against the wall, head pounding and unable to finish his words before another kick to his mouth blew out his teeth. The tiny bones clinked against the stone floor as blood splattered against the wall his skull was thrown against, the only thing he was able to choke out next a cry of anguish comparable to the people he publically tortured.

Shadow was burning with rage, red wisps of power flickering over the black fur of his body as he pressed his foot onto the chest of the Captain, Sonic's attacker, and spoke all too calmly as he listened to him wheeze.

"I could tell you all the ways you slipped up. How you dare look, nevermind touch something that is not yours. That I have been waiting for a moment to do this, for all my slaves I have seen you abuse without consequence. I work in pleasure, Captain, and the way I see you take yours is nothing less than vile."

Shadow began to apply pressure where he stood, his skate burning up once more as he pressed it forcefully down into the Captain's chest, branding and melting the flesh underneath with a horrible scent as Shadow continued mercilessly, ribs cracking and the crushing of his lungs silencing his victim's noises to pitiful whines and cries.

"There is no rehabilitation for someone as sick as you. I hope the devil grants you no rest for your soul, and all the lives you have ruined and ended see to your eternal torture personally. And when I die? You'll wish I'll be there, because I work swiftly," And then there was the sound of Shadow's skate pushing all the way through, meeting the rock underneath, wet and squishy noises meeting the harsh scrape of metal and bone. "But I will not. Simply because I don't believe you are worth anything, including my time."

A dying breath, and nothing.

The cold in the room seemed to chill further than physical as Shadow seemed to relax, red energy fading down back into his body as he removed his skate. Mildly digusted, Shadow shook his leg free of most of the mess-- up to his knee still soaked in blood and Chaos knows what else.

The ebony hedgehog turned quietly towards Sonic, still gagged at the other end of the room. He had been watching.

Shadow's voice lost all aggression to it as he spoke in a way Sonic would find much more familiar, dark in ways that weren't so lethal.

"Are you alright..? May I... approach you, Sonic..?"

If the situation hadn’t been what it was, Sonic’s wide eyed expression could’ve been almost comical when Shadow had burst in, like he was surprised Shadow had shown up at all.

After all, Sonic never had anyone to look out for him. When he’d kicked the Captain in his chest, he’d been fully convinced that it would be entirely up to him to save himself. Shadow’s arrival was…it wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

On the bed, Sonic hadn’t moved an inch. He was watching Shadow with unrestrained mortification, ears back, his chest heaving. Part of it was the humiliation of what had nearly happened, that he’d been seen so vulnerable. The rest of it was because of what Shadow had done as a result of it.

Truthfully…Sonic wasn’t keen on being touched again, and he was in a daze over what he’d just seen. But…Shadow would never hurt him. He knew that much, despite the blood. Warily, he nodded, granting him permission to come closer. He lifted his chin, requesting the gag to be removed first.

He immediately cringed and coughed once he could breathe normally again, licking around the inside of his mouth, flexing his jaw, relieved of the intrusion. This time, his docility was faintly laced with shock as he sat still for Shadow to undo the bindings on his wrists, Shadow able to hear the raggedness of his breathing, see the evident, strident red lines littering his pelt from his lower back, to his rear, to the tops of his thighs. Slowly, as if not realizing right away that his arms were freed, he pulled them back in front of himself, observing too the new bruising where he’d fought the cuffs, hard.

His voice sounding slightly far away, he said, “You killed him?” He drew his eyes back to the unmoving body of the Captain. It wasn’t a judgement, but…surprise. Sonic had killed. Had hurt. He’d had to do what he needed to survive in an unforgiving world. It wasn’t that Shadow had killed that surprised him. It was that he killed the Captain of his Prince’s guard.

Finally, Sonic turned his eyes back onto Shadow, confusion still marring the expression.

“You didn’t…send him, to punish me?” he asked, the question unsure, and coming out slightly meek, as off-balance as he felt.

"If he survives that somehow, then I'd say your attractiveness even tempts the powers of necromancy." Shadow snorted, the grim joke doing little to lighten the mood. There was no doubting the Captain had met his demise, the corpse with a gaping hole in the chest slumped against the wall telling no lies.

Unlike the very one that spit itself out of Sonic's mouth. "What?" Shadow gasped, apologetically shaking his head for such a startling noise when Sonic was so clearly on edge. "No, I would never. Is that what that bastard told you?" Shadow glared at the bloody remains as if he hadn't done him enough wrong.

"Never. I am more than capable of taking care of what the Prince entrusts with me." He said first, but then Shadow sighed. "Although.. I have failed you in that exact regard today. I'm sorry I left you alone like that and it escalated to this point. The pain he caused you.." Shadow frowned, the red lines on Sonic's body open wounds of his lack of care. "It's no one's fault but my own. I am your master, and I let that snake slide by my care for you. I apologize."

Shadow made sure not to overwhelm Sonic any more than he already was, not liking the way he trembled and shook out of shock. "I can only ask for a chance for you to rebuild your trust in me, what little of it's left, I imagine. If you'll have me." He was so tender here, so gentle. Like the hedgehog crouched here over Sonic's wounds and the one responsible for the blood up his leg were two entirely different people.

But nevertheless, he was the same master.

"Will you allow me to heal you? Would that be okay?" He asked Sonic again in the same, careful tone.

Sonic was drawn to that kindness, perhaps even more so because of what had just happened. What had almost happened. He nodded quietly, and then turned his head, though he couldn’t see what his back looked like.

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” he said, in that same slightly dazed voice. Shadow couldn’t quite tell if he was consciously lying or not, but he didn’t resist Shadow’s offer.

“It’s…” He swallowed, putting his hands in his lap, concentrating, forcing his spines to relax, which he only managed halfway. “It’s not your fault. He was probably waiting nearby, like the asshole he was. It’s not like…”

The truth was, Sonic did feel the fracture in his trust. Logically, he knew Shadow couldn’t be at fault. And he didn’t blame him, but their relationship was built on every exercise in trust, every moment Shadow had held Sonic in his hands and not betrayed him. Everything they did, and everything they didn’t do either strengthened or hurt that trust.

But this time, it had been an outside factor, straining it.

Sonic steadied himself, trying to relax, wondering how Shadow would heal him, except perhaps to take him back to his room where his medical supplies were. He wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t fall apart; nothing had happened.

“You don’t have to treat me like I’ve just been broken,” he murmured, forcing a tiny smile, aiming it down at his lap. “This place hasn’t broken me yet, and it’s not gonna start now.” He trailed his fingers over the back of his other hand. “He didn’t…hadn’t done anything. Just scared the shit outta me. But you got to him.” He turned, then, under Shadow’s hands, his eyes open and earnest, even though he was fighting now to not lose his trust that Shadow had worked so hard to build.

Sonic was willing to put himself back into Shadow’s hands, giving him another chance. “You got to him.”

"It is my fault. I should've been more wary of those around you." Shadow took it upon himself again, but then stopped the pity in favor of taking a breath to focus.

Sonic might've had good reason to feel alarm as Shadow's fur rustled softly, a magical light blue glow travelling over his gloves and wherever he ran his hands over any injury Sonic had left on him.

A slight tingle ran over wherever it seeped from Shadow's nurturing fingers to the wounds and aches on Sonic's body, the bruising welts and angry red lines easing back and disappearing as if they had never even happened in the first place.

It couldn't erase the pain caused or felt, but the reminders and anything that lingered was washed away, Sonic's body left good as new when he was done.

"Is there anywhere else I missed?" Shadow looked over him with concern, magic fading in his touch as he finished up. When there truly was nothing left, he sighed.

"You defied him before. I saw the stocks I put you in were completely undamaged, even the latch. He took you here himself. Why didn't you fight back like before?"

Sonic couldn’t help the slight gasp, but he did well to stay still during the process, the sensation….strange. It was uncomfortable and yet was almost pleasant, at the same time.

When he moved again, testing his back, he experienced no new twinge of pain. He reached back behind him, touching the tender area that had been covered in bleeding, red welts, was smooth once more.

He swallowed down his awe, wanting to ask how that was even possible, but Shadow’s questioning caught him out, going still again. Something embarrassed made him go quiet, mouth falling open as he turned back away from Shadow.

“I…” He didn’t want to think about the answer to that, turning his head away, ears turning backwards. “I could’ve broken out of them,” he said. “He just…took me by surprise, is all.” Pausing, he exhaled, shakily. “No, that’s not…completely it, either. I guess it got to me when he said you’d sent him. I thought…I could get out of it, by talking, if that was the case. If he really was going by your orders, I’d be defying you, wouldn’t I?” Sonic drew up a knee, and propped his chin on it, frowning down at the sheets. “I guess I was waiting for you to waltz back in, and ask me if I’d learned my lesson. And then he just took me.”

Wincing, he tried not to feel pathetic at that. That he’d let anyone like that even get so far, it was beyond what he ever would have tolerated before. Beyond what he would ideally tolerate now. But…

“I guess the real answer is I didn’t want to disappoint you by running away. And then I didn’t have a choice.”

Shadow watched him intently, a small pang of guilt sinking into his chest. Sonic had risked getting hurt for him. Sonic...

...Sonic had shown the exact thing Shadow was asking of him. He had been misguided, but he had trusted Shadow's supposed commands, just by the drop of a name.

He smiled.

Shadow mirrored his sit, the bed creaking as he slowly rested his head on Sonic's arm. "You just keep surprising me. Two months, and sometimes I still feel like I filled out your paperwork just yesterday."

Letting the moment pass, Shadow gently took one of Sonic's hands in his own, running his thumb over the back of Sonic's knuckles as his fingers curled around his palm. "I want you to know," With his other hand, he ran it across Sonic's muzzle to make sure he paid attention to his words, bringing Sonic to look at him as he spoke.

"You are a special kind of property. You belong to the crown Prince of Babylon, and are entrusted in my possession and mine alone. And I deeply apologize for not being clear before, I did not think this would happen. But if anyone, anyone, ever tells you I have sent them in my place to punish you? Or that I have given them permission to use you as they please? Those will be lies. If someone truly does come to you, sent by us? You will know, first. It won't be a surprise. Do I make myself clear?"

Sonic was a little embarrassed that Shadow felt the need to comfort him, but…it did feel kind of good.

It also felt good to know Shadow hadn’t sent that guy at all. That he wasn’t so brazen with Sonic’s confession of mistreatment, wouldn’t use that against him just to make him behave. He felt a little stupid for even considering Shadow would have done such a thing.

He nodded, muttering a quiet ‘Yes sir.’ After a beat, he said, “I’m sorry I believed that. You hated the Captain, just like I did.” Recalling Shadow’s words from before, all the abuse that countless slaves had suffered under his hand…

It made Sonic nauseous to think that the Crown Prince should employ such men to do his bidding. Whenever thoughts of anxiety about his future master crept up, Sonic drew closer to Shadow, trying to rid those thoughts.

“You won’t be angry with me if I fight back to protect myself?” he asked, wanting clarity. “Even if I hurt someone?” He’d held back, stupidly, from the Captain, and had let himself be taken off guard. “I mean, if I really have to. Like with the Captain.” What had always rankled him most in captivity, even beyond the submission, was the idea that he could not be self-sustaining, or do much of anything at all for himself. Independence had always been his strongest trait, and it showed in his shock when Shadow had come to his rescue. He truly hadn’t expected anyone.

There was no hesitation from his reply, "If you find yourself in another situation such as this, I absolutely give you permission to do what you must and immediately find me. Just because you're a slave does not mean you are subject to anything cruel." It was the reason Jet saw Shadow as the best fit to take over such work, and now the reason Babylon was known for such loyal and upkept slaves in the trade.

It disgusted Shadow that people would abuse their positions to take advantage of those they saw as lesser, overlooking the very worth of why a slave was desirable in any kingdom. Those who did were nothing less than pathetic.

"You proved you placed your trust in me even if you didn't understand. And I hope now you may trust I would never act cruelly on you as such."

Shadow kissed the side of his muzzle, a chaste but lingering peck.

"I think you're about ready to finally present to the Prince, with that."

When Shadow kissed his muzzle, he turned his head, taking in his words, ready, and then he leaned forward ambitiously to kiss Shadow on the mouth. It was chaste, lingering, a giving of himself now that he felt a little more confident again. With stalwart control, he crushed down the weakness of before that had made him falter in fighting back.

When he pulled back, he finally nodded in response to Shadow’s conviction. More than nervousness, more than uncertainty, Sonic was more determined than ever to not be crushed under the foot of the Prince. He was steadfast, ready for the dreaded reintroduction, since the first had resulted in him causing injury to the singularly most important person in the kingdom, and with his own capture.

This time, things would be different. Sonic’s goals hadn’t changed, even if he’d been distracted. Even though, feasibly, he could’ve made the escape attempt today, when Shadow had left him alone. It had been within his power to break the stocks…so why hadn’t he, really? Had this place, Shadow, gotten so thoroughly to his head?

He settled instead on a more comfortable explanation; that without shoes, he couldn’t pick up the speed to outrun Shadow when it came down to it. He had to wait for the ones being ordered for him. Sonic just had to reach that point alive and whole. And now he’d been given reassurances that he could defend himself should anyone else threaten that. Still, Sonic let himself settle comfortably beside Shadow, pushing back down the urge to kiss him again, for no apparent reason.

“Can we go somewhere else, now?” he asked, eyes flickering past Shadow, and he wouldn’t need to guess at what Sonic was looking at.

"Hmph," Shadow mused as he got up, paying no mind to the carnage of the room or anything else in it as he squatted down to hoist Sonic up in his arms bridal style, the fur on his leg stiffly dried and uncomfortably crusted now. "Agreed. We could both use a shower." He let Sonic cling onto him as they left it all behind, quills softly bouncing with each step.

Chapter Text

After that, Shadow let Sonic have a day without a lesson or schedule to follow, letting him idle around his office freely and wherever else he might've had to run an errand while taking care of the paperwork side of the mess they left in their wake. Job postings were not his responsibility, but keeping the kingdom calm about the Captain of the Prince's Guard sudden retirement and disappearance were just mere damage control.

The following day, Shadow had woken up Sonic with a breakfast of spiced sausages and orange juice, watching him chow down as he brushed through his quills— picking out dead quills on the verge of falling out, or anything duller than the rest of his coat.

"It's okay to be nervous," He reassured him, but it was almost like Shadow was saying that for his own comfort than Sonic's. "He's really not that bad, just a bit immature. Maybe a bit rash sometimes, but he's not stupid, so you can trust him to treat you in a similar way I do. Just don't pry his temper and as long as you refrain from trying to concuss him again, you will be fine." Shadow pulled out another dulled blue quill to the pile he had gathering on the pillow near where he sat, overlooking his work as he did so.

"You are going to behave yourself, yes?"

Sonic endured the grooming, never particularly taking pleasure in it, and yet had long now gotten used to the treatment. He was obediently still as Shadow preened through his quills, the sensation negligible, only the occasional twinge of discomfort at a dead quill still slightly too embedded once pulled free, but it was too minuscule for complaints. As Shadow worked, Sonic observed the unrolled map Shadow had left out on his desk. It was good to have an idea about the structure of Babylon— even if it was dizzingly huge and confusing at first glance.

“Of course, Sir,” he replied, Shadow able to hear the grin in his voice though he couldn’t see it, Sonic propping his chin on a wrist, eyes dancing over the map. He sounded more confident than he felt, honestly. “If you think I’m ready, then I’m ready.”

They both lingered, Shadow disposing of the dead quills, taking longer than necessary to look him over. All a delay, possibly their last moments where it would only be the two of them.

When Shadow clipped the leash to his collar, there was a faintly morose air in the room.

The path above ground was by now a familiar one to Sonic. While he still wished for shoes, it was late enough in the morning that it had warmed considerably and the stone wasn’t so freezing on the bare pads of his feet, which had become slightly tougher over the months of walking around on them. The change in temperature was immediate out of the dungeons, and Sonic faced familiar, intricately tiled halls.

Now, too, Sonic had become familiar with the regular courtesans of Prince Jet’s court. Slinger he saw often padding around, though almost always without his master within sight, always stopping to engage in a short conversation, or simply smile at them on his way if he couldn’t. Other slaves were regular outgoers, it seemed, too. There was a lovely yellow shorthair, some tempting female cat who was always with her mistress, though it seemed she spent half her days dozing off rather than doing much of anything productive at all. One of the courtesans who regularly engaged with him like a real person instead of a mindless animal was a noblewoman seemingly well acquainted with Shadow, though she never had a pet of her own to drag along when he saw her. She was fond of Sonic, addressing him plainly rather than with any slave title, though he was reassured to always mind his manners around her regardless of her casual banter.

Lady Rouge, Shadow had told him once, didn’t usually find the kinds of slaves that came along to her tastes. Sonic may have been the closest to it, with his lean muscle and fighter’s background, although; “You’re still a little on the skinny side for me, though. No offense, honey.”

“None taken, my lady,” he’d said, cheerfully.

“Not everyone has a taste in pets who can sweep the ring like you do, Rouge,” Shadow had said at that moment, dryly.

“Ah, but we do have such tastes in common, don’t we?” She’d winked diabolically in Sonic’s direction after a lascivious look Shadow’s way, and he’d tugged Sonic firmly along their way.

He liked Lady Rouge. A prominent treasure hunter like His Highness, she evidently had an extremely sought after trading business, but she was always surprisingly pleasant and down to earth, and not at all as snooty as her superficial looks suggested. She also didn’t seem too fond of slaves as a concept, to which he liked her all the more for. She was always kind, and persuading Shadow into leniency with him, and Shadow was quite terrible at denying when both of them gave him those faintly pleading looks.

If left alone with Lady Rouge, Shadow was sure they would be in quite some danger of stirring up unimaginable trouble for him and the Prince.

Above ground, Sonic’s physical progress truly shone through. Perhaps even more drastic than the behavioral changes were the bodily ones. In the natural sunlight of the palace, his consistently cleaned fur free of dust and debris was in fact as brilliant as Shadow had anticipated it would be once given proper attention. It was brushed down sleek and softened from its coarse state with nobility-grade conditioners. Groomed as he was, it even hid some of the old scarring better, and the messy forest of razor sharp flyaway spines had been trimmed and reshaped back into an attractive shape. But more important than all of that was how he’d filled out.

No longer did he resemble the starving and ragged rebel with flesh pulled taught over ribs. Sonic had a healthy appetite — so much so that Shadow would soon have to begin regulating his meals much more closely — and while not at the ideal weight just yet, he at least wasn’t as thin as a stray dog.

All of this Shadow took notice of, and of which Sonic took very little notice of himself. It was typical. He behaved well, in perhaps a less talkative mood than was usual for him. The change became more noticeable the closer they drew away from the public court and further inward, reaching the grand double doors of the Prince’s viewing chamber, lightly manned for once for only this purpose. The two guards posted outside were ones he recognized, who nodded at him in wordless acknowledgement, and bowed their heads for Shadow.

Recalling the last time he’d been in this room, he’d been lashed and beaten and dragged here against his will. Now, he was walking here of his own volition. As the double doors closed shut behind them, he lifted his gaze to have them land on the Prince.

Young and handsome in his own right, Prince Jet lounged insouciantly with all the self-serving importance of a royal. That intolerable blue gaze, watching him back, to which Sonic carefully made himself not react to. He knew his type; lazy, arrogant, spoilt. Like a too-ripe fruit, representing all of the too rich excesses of his kingdom.

Carefully, like he’d been taught over and over and over again by Shadow, he knelt down, one knee to the floor, though he lacked the pliant, experienced ease of a fully broken slave in the motion.

Dislike and distrust of Jet roiled within him. Most infuriating of all was that now, with a clear head, he could admit that the Prince was very attractive, and it made his unbearable attitude all the worse. Though it rankled his pride to kneel, part of it was recovered when he knew Shadow would be proud of him.

Briefly genuflecting in front of the Prince himself, Shadow motioned to Sonic with a motion of an arm, presenting him proper and true. And he had proven capable of kneeling through it as he spoke, which had him very pleased indeed.

"My Prince, I bring you a new addition to your court, as per gracious request; this is Sonic, and I thank you for the time generously allowed for me to prepare him for you. He's—"

"Pretty," The hawk interrupted Shadow's spiel, this hedgehog looking nothing like the blue-tinted scraps his guards has once pulled in.

Shadow merely snorted in light amusement. That was the Prince, alright. He continued, unbothered.

"Yes, indeed. I also think you'll enjoy him in gambles and games, he shares the same competitive nature as you when victory is on the line. Careful what you bet with him," A pinch of pride was already shining through Shadow's voice as he talked Sonic up. "He's social, and talkative. I think you'll appreciate the daring nature he has in conversation." It was a very nice way to put Sonic's instinct to give his brazen opinions, sometimes unasked for.

"Oh, really?" Jet's tailfeathers brushed down the cushion of his seat as he shifted lazily, looking down at Sonic with a wild grin on his face. "Then he can talk to me himself, yeah? Hey, Blue Phantom," He referred to him by the legend he once stood for, the very principle of what he made into his willing bed slave.

"How are you? How has Shadow been to you? Good, right?" It was a genuine ask, unexpectedly more down to earth than how most royals treated him.

Shadow briefly tugged on Sonic's leash as a prompt for him to stand upright, nodding to give Sonic permission to speak before he could return any words.

Some instinct in Sonic was very good at appraising a person, a situation, and determining how much he could get away with. He was intuitive and cunning in that regard, and it was that very thing that kept Shadow on his toes, even when he trusted Sonic to not be outright belligerent.

That appraising gaze looked unflinchingly back onto Jet, not at all like the slaves Shadow often broke in who were so deeply conditioned to not look a royal highness in the eyes. Sonic seemed to come to a conclusion and he smiled, though it was slightly more of a smirk.

How’s your head? he was tempted to ask.

“Very good,” he said in confirmation, carefully not looking back at Shadow as he said it. He stood with his shoulders squared, pointed ears upright, though it wasn’t a defensive stance. It was the natural pride Shadow hadn’t attempted to train out of him — simply because he doubted it could be done, at least not without extreme measures being taken. And besides…he knew his Prince’s taste. Such pride would not be undesirable to him, like it would to most masters who would be put off, even threatened by it.

But, like Lady Rouge, there was a reason Jet did not parade around pets of his own kingdom.

This observation interested Sonic, and he took in Prince Jet’s ostentatious presentation; his fine quality sandals that exposed the talons that the royal birds of prey took pride in, the precious jewels set in rings on his fingers, the golden circlet that framed the proud crown of his feathers, and the family Babylonian crest worn in a solid gold medallion around his neck. He was almost tempted to reach up and touch the golden plate on his own collar, with that same crest.

He felt it now, heavier than ever, seeing him in person after all this time, that he was owned by this person.

“I can see why he’s the one you’ve entrusted to train your slaves,” he continued, already trying to gather information on his new master. Innocently, he asked, “You have other slaves, don’t you, my prince?”

Shadow held his breath and bit the inside of his cheek to steady himself, gracious that Sonic had not forgotten a title at the end of his sentence. Thank the gods, he did have some sense in him.

"I do," Jet conversed with Sonic, normal as ever. "It's been awhile since I've taken in a personal one, however. Lucky you. Most of them end up serving for kingdoms of my allies, or I find ways to make use of them here. My kingdom has an outstanding reputation for our servant quality, and I have Smiles over there to thank for that," He obviously referred to Shadow, whose quills bristled at the tease. But Jet noticed the smirk that reflected on Sonic's face, if only lasting a moment.

"Your Highness," Shadow glossed it over, any damage already done. "It's an honor to put you in good image."

"And it's an honor to reap the benefits, Shadow!" Jet clapped his hands together in good spirits, rings clinking together as he stood up and approached the two hedgehogs. "It's exciting to have you finally come to me with him."

Shadow then extended the palm that had Sonic's leash wrapped around it, and let it slip into his prince's hand.

"Likewise. I hope you enjoy each other."

Jet raised a brow towards Sonic, his prize, and gave an experimental tug on the lead. Harsher than Shadow had been, to direct his attention and entice him.

"Awh, you're fond of him, aren't you?"

The question was directed towards Sonic, but Shadow found himself biting his tongue to stop an answer as Jet's grasp crept up the length of the leash, making the slack shorter and shorter until Sonic had to step closer to prevent tension.

"Don't look so upset, Shadow'll still be taking care of you when I'm not around. Besides, even if you were perfect, there's always be room for improvement. Ready?"

Sonic had been staring somewhat morosely down at the leash being transferred, eyes sliding back to his trainer when the tug succeeded in drawing his attention back. It was testament to Shadow’s excellent work that this hedgehog, who was the same rebel who’d provoked the Captain of the guard into brute violence in front of the Prince and had headbutted him, did not so much as balk at the exchange of his lead. Clearly hesitant to leave Shadow’s side though he was, Sonic responded to the silent command to step closer to Jet.

His words provided some optimism, by the way his eyes went a little brighter, flicking ever so briefly toward Shadow and back again. So I’m not cut off from him after all.

That should not have been the immediate comfort that it was. Shadow’s presence was as good as iron manacles for him, the only force in this palace capable of stopping him, of catching him, of subduing him. It would be easier to escape under the attention of this pampered indoor princeling, who was apparently confident enough to not even have guards within the viewing chamber.

Instead of methods of escape immediately filing through his mind, he felt relief. Relief that Shadow would still be a presence.

Although, right now, he wouldn’t be. Sonic knew that much. Now was the ultimate moment he’d previously been determined to avoid; servicing the Prince. And yet his main worry was how he’d perform, slight anxiety curling up his spine.

But he had to perform with a confidence he didn’t quite feel. Straightening his spine further, he stepped in, and tried not to dwell on how different Jet was from Shadow, his only frame of reference in this arena.

“I’m ready, my Prince,” he said, “If you are.” He’d gone for a cordial tone of voice; it came out like a bit of a dare, instead.

Jet grinned wildly at Shadow, it had only been two seconds under his hand and he already was starting to understand what the slave trainer meant by his daring nature.

This night promised fun, no matter the turn out.

"I'll let you get back to your work, or brooding, whatever it may be. Thank you, Shadow." His eagerness was hard to tame.

Shadow took his dismissal in grace, a hand scratching behind Sonic's ear a few times. He said nothing, but his face said it all-- an unspoken trust, and a silent promise to see him again.

"Your Highness," He acknowledged before turning to leave, a slight nervousness creeping up his spine as Shadow closed the double doors behind him. Sonic was alone with the Prince, now. Things would hopefully go swimmingly, and he would hear blissful reviews from the hawk by morning.

Or, he would wake to the palace in flames, and with Jet's head on a pike in Sonic's hands. He forced himself to keep walking the other direction.

On the other side of the doors, now that they were alone, Jet really gave Sonic a full up and down, a uncertainty filling the air between them.

"Hah, the Blue Phantom. Leashed in my hand." Jet's hand slid up the short length of leash, his fingers dusting over Sonic's neck, briefly tucking up under his chin to hold him there. "Captured or outlaw, you still somehow managed to take out the head of my guard. You really are a wild one."

Sonic’s eyes widened slightly when Jet mentioned the guard. He carefully made himself not look toward the door again, his heartbeat kicking up slightly.

Was the Prince…pleased? Or was he biding his time now that he was alone with his new slave so he could punish him? He didn’t shy from the touch to his chin, letting it tilt up slightly. This close, Sonic realized that they might have been the same height, if Jet weren’t wearing boots, and he weren’t barefoot. With that in mind, Jet had an inch or so on him, barring the standing feathers on his crown.

Green eyes searched all over Jet’s face, appraising him back. There was a possibility Sonic had inadvertently slighted his new master by defying his Captain, so he had to tread carefully. Yet he wasn’t a kiss ass, either.

“He wasn’t a good fit for your household,” Sonic said, tilting his head up. “But everyone was told he retired, my Prince.” Frowning slightly, he added, because surely the Prince was no fool and had found out somehow, “What made you think he’d been taken out, or that I was responsible for it?”

He didn’t deny it exactly, but he was curious. Execution would be the only end result if a slave had brought any harm to a member of the royal household, and yet Jet was here, holding his leash, looking at him with a fascinated glint in his eyes.

"Who do you think approved that little story to go out to the crowds?" Jet gloated, grin standing strong throughout. "I keep Shadow in high regards not just for his work, but for his ethics. Do you think I really don't know about what goes on in my own kingdom?"

He shrugged next, releasing Sonic's chin and letting the leash grow slack again between them, dangling loosely.

"I agree, though. That old man had been there since I was a child, and was present through my father's rule before I took the throne. And his seniority made it hard to replace the guy while he was alive, so you could say I was kind of waiting..." He trailed off ominously, but that was the end of that. He then turned on his heel in the opposite direction Shadow had left, automatically leading Sonic to follow him deeper into the palace, deeper than he'd ever gone before.

"So really, I should be thanking you. Ironic, isn't it?" Jet mused as he brought Sonic down spacious corridors, lavish and decorated for as much of a contrast to the catacombs Sonic usually traversed with Shadow.

And with that metaphorical elephant out of the room, Jet moved on as quickly as he had approached the topic.

"So! Tell me about yourself, then! 'Sonic' is your given name, yes? And from what I know from Shadow, you hate water, you like spicy foods, and now, apparently gambling, too." That all was from what he remembered off the first glance of Sonic's file, at least. "Anything else he forgot to add?"

Sonic followed without issue, though the leash occasionally pulled a little taut when he strained to look around himself, eyes widening as they took in the increasingly ostentatious decor, the excessive colors and patterns that denoted the status of the resident of the chambers. It was unmistakably the personal chambers of a prince, the tapestries and tile and intricately carved furniture was beyond exquisite. For a single chair, Sonic couldn’t imagine the cost of it. The cost of the dyed Eastern silks alone was not a number Sonic had ever seen in person.

And Prince Jet was at home in this world, the stunning green of his plumage contrasting attractively with the reds and purples and golds that surrounded him, marking him out as a stand-alone eye catch; the only emerald in a sea of amethysts and rubies. And Sonic, the only spot of bright blue in the room.

“You actually want to hear me talk about myself?” he asked, lifting his brows, a smile quirking at his mouth. Already, the Prince was…unexpected. And yet he found Shadow’s description of him accurate. Arrogant, greedy, talkative…Sonic thought they might not be terribly different, at least in some regard.

Though a blue ear twitched slightly at the mention of water — of course Shadow had told him about his fear — he found himself a little surprised that Jet wanted to bother to know him at all, aside from what he could do on his hands and knees.

“I’m pretty capable at combat,” he said, casually as he leaned his weight to one sided putting a hand to his hip. A severe understatement, though not presented as a threat— though Jet would know, already. His gaze on his master was lidded. “I…did like the games that we played together. Being in…” He paused to choose the words with consideration, clearly something he’d acquired under Shadow’s tutelage. “Service,” he plucked it out, instead of ’imprisonment,’ “Is too leisurely for me. I get bored easily.”

Enticed by the unexpected turn of events, Sonic dropped the hand on his hip and dared a step closer of his own volition.

“I’m also a quick learner, too. It’s handy with fighting, and learning mission plans,” said Sonic, slowly. “Among other things.” After a beat, he added, “My Prince.”

Jet listened to Sonic list off his abilities, and it did make sense given his background. That didn't stop him from rolling his eyes in exaggeration at his words.

"You're already my slave, I don't need your resume. I meant stuff like your personality, your interests... not just what you can do. I can already make you do anything, you know?"

Jet made haste to throwing himself down on an elongated loungechair, deep red plush velvet cushioning the golden frame.

"Oh, and you can cut it with the titles and stuff when we're alone, if you want. I love it when people treat me like their god, but it feels less personal when you're an object of desire and worship twenty-four seven. Just 'Jet' is fine."

Opening his legs up to make space between them, Jet patted the cushion in front of him to let Sonic decide on joining him or to continue to just stand in front of him.

"Like when I was a kid, I'd race around the palace walls and see how fast I could lap the entire place. I still like to give my record a shot, every once in awhile. What kinds of games has Shadow taught you? He's not exactly known for fun, if you can believe it." Jet prattled on as if he was catching up with an old friend rather than someone who was a mysterious threat to his kingdom and livelihood, just a couple months ago. He was so.. strangely relaxed.

Sonic’s first reaction was a faintly derisive snort, but he followed Jet with his gaze, puzzlement making its way to his face despite himself, not so well-trained as to hide it.

He turned his body to follow his eyes where they settled on Jet sitting, and he eyed the cushion with some consideration. Once again, in his own way, Jet was providing him a choice. Perhaps Shadow had indeed rubbed off on him.

Sonic’s ears perked up to attention at the mention of racing, and in the same way he wasn’t able to hide his confusion, his eyes lit up. Finally, that seemed to tug him forward, letting his legs fold under him on the cushion in front of Jet.

If only Shadow could hear him say this, he thought with an internal laugh, just imagining Shadow’s face paling when he heard his slave in training refer to the Prince of the kingdom without any title or honorific at all.

“You race?” he asked, with some unrestrained surprise, latching onto that topic. Wondering how much was safe to say, he judged that Jet probably wouldn’t find his words too suspicious as he said, “He’d never let me do something like race, but before, I’ve never met anyone who could match me. I can hit mach 2 in sixty seconds flat, and then break it.” Just the thought of doing such a feat again made him perk up, never having dared to talk about this sort of thing with Shadow, who was of course focused on things like obedience and staying put, and would have been immediately suspicious should Sonic start prattling on about how fast he could go. Wilting slightly, he added, “Though, I probably wouldn’t give you much of a run for your money, now. Not without shoes.”

Sonic’s mind was snagged now, eyes drifting slightly. Two months was the by far the longest he’d ever been confined for any reason, and he was reminded that he’d not had any opportunity to be active— with the exception of sex, of course.

“It’s not that I would run just because I had to,” he went on, bringing up one of his knees, slinging an arm around it. “I like it, more than anything. When you race— you do it for the speed, yeah? That’s what I knew about myself, before anything else.”

And then other people decided what my powers should be used for, he thought, and didn’t say this aloud.

Just as easy as Jet had offered him something of a choice, he was already pulling at Sonic's leash again to bring him closer, to have Sonic leaning over on top of him where he was splayed out on the chair. The white feathers on his chest brushed against Sonic's own, confident even from below. "We get it, you're very impressive. Mach 2, woooow." He crooned, blue eyes soaking up Sonic's body in this position.

"I race on a board. Sometimes with wheels, but I've been learning magic for that, too. Birds are supposed to fly, after all," came his own boast, the headpiece around his fauxhawk shifting slightly as he raised his chin up proudly. "I'll have to get you one and we'll see who's better, sometime."

He wasn't stupid. Jet wasn't just about to give the guy known for busting the sound barrier the ability to do so again. Not without a reason, anyways.

No, now was about reaping the rewards of all the patience he had sat through since he sent Shadow away with him. Enjoying the way he had been tamed for him, something he could flaunt once he picked out where he was lacking.

Wrapping an arm around the curve of Sonic's waist, Jet pulled his weight further onto him as he pet over his side.

"Go back to that 'fast learner' thing again for me..? I take two and some months probably feels like a blink of an eye like that, doesn't it? But feel free to show me what you know." The next time his hand stroked down Sonic's side, it briefly dusted over his tail before returning innocently.

Another invitation, this one much more intimate. It was basic to ask essentially what Sonic had learned in his time with Shadow, but he was also thrusting Sonic into a situation he wanted him to initiate. Something Jet could react to before taking the lead, naturally, instead of just outright shoving Sonic down to the bed and having his way with him.

It felt.. oddly equal, despite the literal power struggle between them in nearly every which way there could be. Green feathers swished impatiently up between Sonic's legs, dark tips of soft tailfeathers ever so lightly brushing against blue fur.

While Jet had distracted Sonic with the talk of racing and boards — would he really teach Sonic how to ride one? — he hadn’t expected to be pulled suddenly over him, surprise making his eyes go a fraction wider as he followed the silent command.

Getting shoved down and the Prince having his way was what he’d expected coming here, honestly, by the way he’d been so eager to get his leash out of Shadow’s hands.

Now, he found himself shockingly with little recourse for what to do. He’d thought surely all his time with Shadow had prepared him for every possible scenario, and yet Jet had already thrown him a curveball and he went still, his body tense when Jet touched him. Anticipating the promise of servicing a new master was one thing; having that new master actually touching you after only being accustomed to the touch of Shadow was another. Particularly when his only experience being touched by someone else had been that loathsome Captain.

Anticipate what your master will want. It’s your job to read his mood.

Well, Shadow, that was easier said than done. He’d been trying to learn what exactly that meant for the duration of his training, and still fell a little short in understanding it fully. How to practically apply it, after he grasped the theory. Sonic had been waiting out the moment Jet would push him onto his back— and now he was the one hovering over his master, instead, and it made the cogs in his brain come to a screeching halt.

Chaos, Sonic, do SOMETHING. Don’t just stare like a moron!

Another tinier, darker part of Sonic had not seriously prepared for this moment out of the expectation that he’d have escaped here before now. Please don’t let Shadow be mad with me.

Cautiously, Sonic forced himself to move, begging his muscles to relax, but that was impossible with the new feeling of feathers tickling him. The problem wasn’t even Jet’s looks — Sonic could’ve been handed over to some horny, ancient geezer with a taste for young males — but he just didn’t know what to expect from him.

The feeling of soft white plumage under his ungloved fingers was surprising, silky smooth, even more so than fur ever could be. So enamored with the sensation, he did it again, momentarily fascinated and carefully not dwelling on who exactly he was touching. In addition, Sonic was stumped at the hard, sharply curved beak of the prince, and how kissing even went with avians, if it did at all. Shadow, couldn’t you have given me some pointers on birds before you brought me here? he thought, dreadfully. But he was nothing if not bold, so he improvised as best he could.

Sonic was no sweet master of seduction, that much was obvious, but Shadow had been confident he was ready for this much, so surely he’d shown some sort of promise to the trainer. He experimented with the feeling of feathers under his lips, finding the avian skin beneath much better protected by them than fur as he applied his mouth to Jet’s neck. At the same time, he brushed his hand down from the fluffy white chest to Jet’s hip, remembering Shadow’s guidance to not go directly for the kill, to coax your partner into being ready first. He hoped that advice held true for Jet, who seemed intent on tripping Sonic up in every way just by being the way he was.

Wondering if Jet would even feel it or appreciate it, he brought his face up to press a kiss to the hard edge of his beak, right on the seam of top and bottom jaw. The hand that had backed off from his hip this time did graze lightly between the Prince’s legs, the feathers there thick and soft.

Okay, his panicky mind supplied, not too bad, right? This isn’t horrible. Different, but not terrible. Please don’t execute me if I can’t get you hard.

The feathers under Sonic's fingers were prickling up, naturally flustered as Jet tilted his head back to simply let the other explore. And the skittish touches of hopeful guesses were pleasant, the lavishly fluffy chest of the prince rising and falling with a contented sigh. He raised his hips up toward that curious hand, firmly meeting Sonic's palm and feeling the heat seep down to the skin underneath.

"Nervous?" Jet smirked up at him, knowing he had thrown Sonic off of whatever plans he had been imagining for their grand reunion. It gave him a little kick, forcing a genuine kind of humiliation out of him versus letting him go into a practiced submissive role. He was daring Sonic to get a little more bold, go a little faster with his movements, not give him any time to second guess an action like he might've with Shadow's lessons.

It wasn't just practice anymore. And when Jet moved, even if it might not be the best or most correct thing, he always saw it through. Like when he slid his hands up Sonic's sides and over his shoulders, up to cupping his muzzle and bringing their faces close like a mirror to their very first meeting where Sonic had ever so politely tried to concuss him. This time instead, Jet was the one to close the space, bringing him into a kiss that quickly devolved from something more chaste to open mouths and brushing tongues.

"Don't be," Jet murmured between breaths, a single hand running down blunted quills on his back and tracing around that shy tail, massaging around his tailbone before wrapping around the short appendage and giving it a squeeze. "It's only the crown Prince of Babylon you're meant to service, no big deal.." He had the gall to laugh, clearly leagues more comfortable getting intimate with a practical stranger considering he was the one who ordered such.

Where Shadow might've been clear and concise about his communication of Sonic's body language and where he lacked, the jab Jet teased him with was sarcastic, lightening the tension as if to say I understand.

"You can keep going," Jet encouraged him on, turning his head to the side and exposing his neck to him again, another invitation for Sonic to take. "I don't mind any bruise I consented to."

The grip to his tail made Sonic gasp quietly, that small appendage twitching lightly in his grasp. He tried not to dwell on the inevitable, getting fucked by the prince, and met Jet’s challenge with his own.

The exposed neck wasn’t what he’d expected, but he wasn’t going to pass up if Jet was explicitly letting on what felt good. It was odd, being in this position, in the back of his mind wondering if this was an echo of how Shadow felt, reading him. He bent down and decided that if Jet wanted him less careful, he’d get less careful.

“Only the Babylonian Prince,” he huffed against the feathers, feeling some of the tension leave his body. That Jet was even bothering to try and put him at ease was surprising, and…he recognized it, even if he privately found it absurd after everything. He nipped with pointed teeth at the tender neck, enough to irritate the skin.

“Only my captor,” he said, voice lowered, licking over the spot he’d bitten, and then applied his hand all the more firmly between Jet’s legs, fingering the feathers there, parting them and wondering if he could expose Jet like he could do to himself, or to Shadow. “My tormentor.” Dipping his fingers, he moved to pin Jet’s thigh with his knee, digging in to keep those legs parted and easier for him to access between them. “My considerate nemesis.”

He grinned up at Jet finally, sitting up so his weight settled more firmly, his other hand having worked its way up to one of Jet’s wrists. Not truly restrained like this, because he wasn’t trying to, yet it was still rougher than any slave would dare be with any master, nevermind their prince.

He’d liked the kissing. No, he didn’t have the soft lips that Shadow teased him with, but he had to kiss with tongue and intent. Enjoying the experience so much, he ducked down for more, pushing his tongue along the hard seam of the beak until it opened for him, finding the prince to taste slightly sweet, like some sugary delicacy he’d been indulging in for breakfast. On some impulse, he caught Jet’s tongue between his teeth, gently, and sucked on it, chasing that taste.

Finding the hidden slit moistened under his finger tips, he pushed at it, going a little breathless at how much wetter it felt then before.

That was more like it. Now Sonic's true appeal was showing, just how Jet dreamed of it when the hedgehog was first dropped at his feet. There was something so attractive about having someone who was once so powerful be devoted to his pleasure like this, holding him down and open but for all the right reasons...

Jet made an approving noise as he let Sonic keep surprising him, moaning softly into his mouth as he finally found what he was searching for. His free leg gladly opened up and to the side, encouraging Sonic to keep prying at the slowly emerging cloaca. And Sonic was correct with his findings, it was wet. There was a slight give to the slit, alluding to the peculiar hole having more to it in hiding, as something pressed forward against Sonic's hand.

A firm tip was starting to peak out, a drip of slick forced out with it to catch on peach fur.

This.. was to be expected, surely. Any two partners coming from different groups of species had to work around nature's given equipment, and perhaps Shadow had taken that for granted when training Sonic. Because when everything paused for just that moment, Jet tilted his head back to pull away and actually look at what was going on-- and the second of brief confusion on his slave's face was something he was glad he didn't miss.

Jet grinned up at him wildly, a sort of pridefulness about himself still showing through everything else as he craned his head up to gently tuck into and teethe at Sonic's shoulder, that once sucked on tongue lapping over places he preened softly with the hook of his beak. The rest should've gone without explanation anyways, when it came to sex, it shouldn't've been difficult to figure out.

And as wonderful as this was, Jet was also excited to find out what made Sonic tick— the places that would get him to unfurl at his touch, that he could entice Sonic with the notion of sharing that specific kind of pleasure again with a single call. The time for that would come, but for now they could focus on exciting each other like careless young lovers.

Which was the whole grace of having pleasure slaves, in his most formal opinion. Something to take the edge off of all his daily duties and stresses of royal life, to go back to relationships that were so simplified without the worry of business or honor. Jet nudged the underside of Sonic's collar up, his grin falling into a smirk as he licked and sucked over a still healing mark that presumably was Shadow's work still fading on him. Which probably meant he had liked the attention there, from what Jet could gather.

Sonic found himself suddenly overwhelmed with a few different things at once. One was the peculiar entrance he found between Jet’s legs, accompanied by the emerging pink cock sliding hard and perfect into his palm.

The attention to the old lovebite under his collar made him groan softly, not finding it so easy to tilt his head aside like Jet did, but he did tip his chin up a little.

He wrapped his fist fully around the prince’s length, his heart skipping a beat at how different he was from Shadow. It was smoother, slicker, not quite his trainer’s size, but well proportioned and justifying Jet’s radiating pride. When he gave the first experimental stroke, he found he liked the sound Jet made, immensely. He was the pet here, yes, but in this small way Sonic could wield control.

He decided to dive in, working him fast, the pads of his fingers rough on the slick shaft. Arched over Jet like this, this felt surprisingly more intimate than he’d expected, coming in here, not quite used to the position of being on top like this. He’d only tried it a time or two before, with success enough…

Sonic gave up his hold over Jet’s thigh and wrist so he could throw a leg over, straddling. He ignored the light anxiety that spiked, looking down at him like this. Clearly, Jet was more willing to give up control than he’d thought, and he underestimated how direly Sonic needed to take back some of it.

The hand not holding Jet’s cock slid upward, cupping none too gently around his throat. He peered down dangerously at him, ears tipping forward. When he rolled his hips, his sheath pressed against Jet’s length, disturbing and wetting the blue fur there.

“You like dangerous games, don’t you?” he said. “Shadow said you were enamored after…oh, ‘I bumrushed that thick skull of yours.’ I think those might’ve been his exact words. He thinks quite highly of you, apparently.”

Jet only looked back up at Sonic questionably when that hand came around his neck, judging how much immediate danger he was in. But then he tossed any alarm to the wind when Sonic rutted against him, which he gladly reciprocated to add to the slippery friction between them. Pressing Sonic's hand more against his windpipe, Jet made an example of himself.

"I do, and he does. I've always appreciated Shadow for seeing me for more than just my status or title. A lot of people think they gotta treat royalty a certain way no matter the time of day or year, y'know?"

The same could easily be said for the slaves on the other end of the social ladder, but that much was at least implied true when it came to Shadow individually. Jet ground his hips in tempting circles, slowly dragging himself over that growing arousal to entice Sonic even further, and it could be questionable in that moment exactly which one of them had been literally trained for this. All chalked up to eagerness, of course.

Compromised as his position was, Jet's hand came up to lightly tug at the grasp around his throat to pull it away after the moment had passed, softly moaning as he brought those lovely fingers up to his mouth and licked over them.

"I wanna see you prepare yourself for me," Jet purred, the image already clear in his mind's eye. "Touching yourself, finding all the ways that make you weak and denying yourself climax for me, oh. I think I'd like that even more."

The idea of the Blue Phantom writhing under his own touch to the thought of the Prince was a fantasy he wanted to bring to life, the real thing lying temptingly in front of him as something to look at, but not touch until he could take it no more. The feeling of how satisfying it would be for Sonic to work himself up so intensely before sinking himself down onto the slick length, needy and tight and hot—

Jet was drooling over Sonic's fingers at the very thought.

The culmination of everything seemed to lead to this moment. Sonic stared at him, more flushed than before and hating that he even got such a reaction. A large part of him even when following Jet in here had expected himself to revolt at his touch, unable to conceptualize himself in Slinger’s place, serving total strangers.

But Jet was not a stranger to his mind. Jet had been relentlessly plaguing his mind from the day he’d arrived here, even if only in fantasies of revenge, idyllic grandeur of a spoilt and cruel dictator, morphed into dreaded curiosity of what he would like in bed thanks to Shadow. He was a stranger only in the sense that he knew little about him personally.

In another sense, the anticipation of finally seeing him again had been building up over weeks, always pushed to the back of his mind, but growing in that dark little corner.

Sonic curled his fingers, petting that sly tongue with them, coating them generously. Spit alone wouldn’t do for opening himself up — this Shadow had drilled rather seriously into him, to not skimp on proper lubricant not only for his own sake, but for the Prince’s — but it would do for something else.

So Jet wanted a performance. He’d been at least prepared for the possibility. Though he’d been tremendously embarrassed trying it the first time, Shadow had gotten him comfortable with playing with himself. In his mind, Shadow was here with him, guiding, as he pulled himself free of Jet entirely to press himself to the other end of the lounge, leaning back against the arm rest.

Though Sonic still didn’t quite get the practical application down of all of Shadow’s theory of erotic attraction and performance, such practiced show would have felt out of place here regardless with this spontaneous, unpredictable prince. Sonic leaned back and let one leg slide off the edge of the lounge, the other drawn up and pushed out against the back cushion. His body was slightly shyer right now, surely due to his nerves, but chasing pleasure was what he was good at.

All trace of his first blushing, bumbling attempts to touch himself for an audience — Shadow, previously — was gone, now. Sonic shot Jet a look that said in every way without words, get back, as he brought his saliva-coated fingers down to his bothered sheath. He traced his finger over the partially hidden slit of a pouch, the muscle of a thigh twitching briefly at how sensitive he still was. Licking his lips, his mouth parted in a soundless little motion, eyes drawing down to himself. His ear flicked as he imagined Shadow’s words the first time he tried this, close by but not touching him as he said, ’You’re a natural at this, just do what feels good— you’ll please anyone that way.’

Shuddering briefly, he did just that, lifting his hips to grind his palm over it firmly, the muscles all over his lower body seeming to constrict in response, unlocking again when that sheath relaxed, and his cock slid free into the open.

Jet made a soft cooing noise that burbled in the back of his throat, seemingly in awe of what he was watching. His patience having proven worth something, and his eyes immediately took in the trained confidence of Sonic's face and then swiped down to what exactly he had dared to hide from his prince all this time.

Sonic was... perfectly endowed, in his rightful opinion.

He had to hold himself back from jumping his bones right then and there, eager to grind their bodies together in a hot, wet mess. But he had asked for a show, and he had already waited this long. What was a little more time burned, especially if there was promised entertainment? Jet instead sat back to mirror Sonic's lewd pose on the other end of the couch, drawing one of his own legs up and trailing his own hand over his exposed cock.

Whereas lubrication might've posed a bit of a problem for Sonic, it flowed naturally from the teased cloaca as Jet ran his fingertips over the rest of the giving flesh, clear and shiny across the tiny plumage of feathers creeping up to his inner thighs. But he wanted to mirror Sonic as a whole, refraining from doing anything more than that as he wrapped his hand around himself and matched the pace of his slave's lead.

And it would show Jet exactly what he liked, just where and how to touch him. The way his hand stuttered when his thumb rubbed just underside of the head, how those telling ears wilted back from the steadily growing feeling of need.

But as he continued to watch Sonic, something was breaking the lust induced trance Jet was trying to fall into. Playing with himself was usually of no issue, but aside from the occasional drop of quickly drying precum, he was having a significantly harder time with the slide of things.

No matter. They weren't two stable boys with nothing else at their disposal, after all.

"Keep going," Jet panted as he waned off his movements, his eyes lingering on Sonic for as long as he could while he got up. Not minding the odd drip hitting the floor in a trail as he walked aways somewhere, it was only a minute or two before he returned in a hurry— something small and golden held in his hands.

Paying no mind to Sonic's confusion, Jet clambered back upon the lavish cushions as he let Sonic catch a glimpse to what he was exactly holding. A fancy bottlenecked vial, rounded at the base and skinny towards the top, made from patterned blown glass. Popping off the cork top and tossing it to be forgotten somewheres on the floor, Jet made an overtly showy scene of holding the bottle much higher than it should've likely been over Sonic's body and started to pour out the yellow liquid inside.

Warm oil splashed down over his abdomen, gravity helping to pool the excess down his lower body and below. There was no care for how it might've ruined the couch they were lying on, only the pursuit of bodily pleasure on Jet's mind. He straight up emptied the bottle over Sonic's body, the last of the oil dripping directly down over where his hand held his cock.

Though the prince touching himself while watching him shouldn’t have come as a surprise, for some reason, it did. Sonic couldn’t hide the flush of arousal, the slight shock of what he was doing and seeing, but it was easily dismissed as his body riling up, naturally.

His eyes tracked Jet’s movements as he moved around the room, biting his lip as he stroked himself. When the spill of oil came, the muscles all over his body tensed, gasping a little at the unexpected sensation.

It made everything so slick. The added oil to his cock made his eyes flutter, tilting his head back. His own hand was almost too good with that added slickness. Hazy green eyes looked up at Jet, a daring gleam in his gaze as he formed his hand into a fist and rocked his hips up, fucking into it. He could, of course, only keep it up for so long less he risk coming too soon, but it was worth it to watch the Prince’s cool blue eyes draw downward toward the motion, and dilate with desire.

But this oil was for another purpose. He removed his hand from his pulsing dick so he could slip the oil coated fingers down further, adjusting himself. Blue thighs spread a little further apart, sliding down onto his back in the lounge so he could more easily access his entrance. Come on, Sonic, don’t get embarrassed, now.

He doggedly pushed back whatever self consciousness he could possibly still cling to, blue tail flicking to the side and out of the way as he pushed two slick fingers into himself at once. Consistently prepared and trained by Shadow, he could usually jump into two fingers right away now. And to think, only one had seemed insurmountable before.

Shadow had assured him that his noisiness was, at least for the Prince, a desirable trait. Sonic could think of a few masters he’d met over his time here that would certainly beg to differ, liking their pets quiet and obedient, but Jet was very clearly not like any master that was typical of the kingdom. He wasn’t sure if it was due to Jet being the crown prince or if it was because he was Jet, but he could feel how favorably he reacted to his own reactions.

Sonic groaned openly as he curled his fingers in himself, tail flicking reflexively again and again, not quite a wag, the oil making everything even hotter as it heated up to his body temperature.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, with a raised brow, the question coming out a little impertinent versus seductive. To emphasize, he raised his hips slightly at the same time he spread his two fingers, thighs flexing with a hitch of breath when he brushed his prostate.

"Very much," Jet chirped in agreement, and either he hadn't noticed Sonic's less-than-submissive tone or didn't mind it. He ran a hand down the middle of Sonic's chest to collect some of the excess lubricant on his fingers, that proud elongated tail swishing out from underneath him as Jet seated himself back again to mindlessly touch himself as he watched Sonic.

His own lust burned within him as he naturally grew impatient, stilling his hand around himself to tease. Jet wanted to get inside his new toy so badly, his feathers rustling in display of his tireless excitement at the thought. He wanted to hear Sonic moan for him, because of him, proudly announcing his consummation and pleasure to the Prince.

If not one of his noblesmen commented to him about the noise come tomorrow, he might be disappointed.

"You don't have to be shy," Granted, today was just the beginning. But Jet was imagining that same flustered arousal on Sonic's face now, only by the foot of his throne as he only was able to get off per his command, forced to sit upon a toy of some sorts that specialized in hitting where he was made weakest. Paying no mind to the rest of the court as they were both made to wait, Jet having to deal with trivial duties and meetings as visitors came and went, Sonic not allowed to release until the business of the day was finished or if Jet grew tired of the denial and made him service him on his throne with his mouth.

Whatever happened first.

Sonic’s thighs were tensing in rhythmic fashion, having, with some trial and error, learned how to find that spot inside him that felt so good. Though Shadow had watched him while he made Sonic learn how to pleasure himself, there was always a perfunctory, mostly professional air about the trainer (except in the cases where Sonic’s impulsive behavior led to spontaneous and decidedly less professional lessons) that made him feel like a thing to be examined and judged. Which had its own arousing appeal, loath as Sonic was initially to think such a thing.

Being watched by Jet was different. Sonic wasn’t getting himself off, or learning any lesson here. He was preparing himself, a task not typically delegated to himself, and the prince looked like he wanted to eat him alive. It was a bizarre feeling, the strident evidence of another person’s desire for him, not something he was used to aside from the one person to touch him until now.

Jet’s impatient anticipation reflected so much of his own nature that it was much more riling than he ever thought it would be. He actually had prepared for the probability that he’d have some difficulty getting aroused at all, with how nervous he’d be to service a prince he’d spent his entire life hating. Instead, his dislike and the challenge presented seemed to amplify everything. Seeing Jet aroused and holding back from jumping him just yet— it wasn’t at all like the cold mortification of realizing the Captain had wanted him. Not wanted him, but had wanted to break him. To seriously hurt him.

Jet’s intentions were so much more frank, so much simpler, and sensing an echo of his own selfish pursuit of pleasure in the Prince, Sonic took another gamble when he sat up and wiped his hand unceremoniously on the lounge.

Not being a dumb animal, Sonic could’ve taken his own leash off, which had dangled forgotten. Now, he gathered it in his own hand and flung the length over his shoulder. He only didn’t unclip it and toss it away because of some instinct that told him that the illusion of tamed pet would serve him better for the liberties he was about to take.

Pushing Jet back by the chest, Sonic’s shove was firm as he straddled his hips, knees sinking into the thick cushion on either side of Jet’s body. The forgotten leash was held in place behind him between his back quills, the handled end dangling, tickling the Prince’s hip slightly.

He’d only tried this position exactly once before. And while not terribly expert— he liked the control it afforded him. Testing his newly building knowledge of Jet’s preferences, green eyes narrowed down at him in challenge as he experimentally tilted his hips back until the Prince’s cock nudged his tail.

Jet's eyes grew wide for a moment before they reflected the forwardness Sonic had. He was so bold, so relentless that it served to be extremely arousing when he found himself on the other side of it. His hands naturally settled on Sonic's sides, petting down the blue fur and stopping to hold his hips steady. Aligning their bodies together perfectly, Jet pressed his tip against that slick and waiting hole that was daring to give into the pressure any second.

And that was all he did as he waited, and let Sonic take the first move to sink himself down on it.

Sonic painted such a pretty picture for him, willingly impaling himself down on his cock for pursuit of pleasure, flushed cheeks and ears topping off the whole package. Jet moaned when Sonic's weight rested on him in full, and he used his hands to guide his body as he rocked Sonic back and forth on his cock to test the waters.

Jet trusted in Shadow's training that Sonic wouldn't be obligated to fake pleasure if he didn't feel it. Slaves that were taught to beg and writhe no matter what was being done to them was insulting, and Jet would rather eat his own feathers than be blindly inadequate. He wanted Sonic to genuinely become unable to stop himself, what his face truly looked like when he was cumming instead of worrying about aesthetics.

So in his most selfless act of the night, he had Jet's full attention as he moved Sonic around on his cock, shifting his own hips up and seeing just where his expression faltered, or where he could feel those soft walls tense and flex around him.

Jet would prove to this fated legend just how good he could make him feel.

"I like how strong you are," Jet complimented him, "It suits you."

Sonic thought there might be some lingering shame, or awkwardness that would make it difficult for him to do this. Yet the moment he sank fully over Jet’s cock, his breath left him in a rush. The Prince felt suddenly so much more real than he’d seemed to Sonic all this time. A flesh and blood person, with baser desires even a rebel like himself could empathize with.

He flushed at Jet’s words, and balanced himself, one hand gripping the soft plume of feathers on Jet’s chest, the other sinking into the cushion beside Jet’s shoulder.

“That is what you wanted me for,” he said, panting softly, raising his hips before slamming down again, satisfied at the smack their hips made. The Prince was built differently from Shadow, but he curved perfectly against his prostate, and his tail was moving incessantly again.

The handful of months of training had improved his stamina tremendously. He was far improved from coming only moments after being touched, able to hold out— though he still tended to cum a few times before Shadow finished. But his pride was no longer interested in preserving virginal dignity; he wanted to give the Prince a run for his money. He would show this arrogant young prince that the slave he’d roped and tamed wasn’t going to roll over and mewl like a pet.

“You better hold on, my Prince,” he said, and leaned his weight on Jet’s chest as he really fucked himself on him.

Sonic rode him hard, squeezing tight around him every time that cock brushed that sweet spot inside him. It was good fortune that Jet preferred him to not hide his sounds, because he couldn’t have if he wanted to. His cock throbbed, every drive downward pushing him perilously fast toward his end, eyes slipping shut and ears tilting back as he became, as he always did despite himself, lost in feeling. Even despite his impeccable training, he continuously lost himself in sensation, his nature impatient and impassioned.

And while not in any way a typically suitable pet for the run of the mill noble, Shadow had known exactly what would appeal to Jet in encouraging Sonic’s reckless pursuit of pleasure.

“I—“ he blurted out, flushed, pushing the words out despite his reflexive embarrassment, “I’m gonna cum—“ He met Jet’s eager thrusts, feeling a little more like this was some impromptu romp between himself and a strange lover than a slave submitting to his Prince. His quills bristled as he ground his hips down, thighs tensing as Jet’s cock pressed perfectly where he needed it.

On the contrary, Jet was no true comparison to Sonic's prior experience-- (his only experience, mind you) --but instead an intriguing contrast on the other side of the scale, enjoying himself all too well as he drank it all in. Sonic was active, not just in this position Jet had guided them towards but as a whole. The way his body begged for more, wordlessly before his mouth did, no fear or even a second guess of doubt in any action he did.

If he ever did slip up, it was made to be passed off as intentional. A moment where Sonic's rhythm faltered and he rested down on him, circling himself temptingly before getting back right where he left off. His hands briefly pressed down on his feathery chest and made him wheeze, and his palms pushed right off him to caress over his own shaking frame for Jet's viewing pleasure before putting his hold back, softer this time.

"I wanna see it," Jet moved one of his hands around to grip around Sonic's weeping cock, his own throbbing inside him as a warning of his own end. The backside of his tail was dripping wet with slick, Sonic's weight bouncing on his lower half forcing dribble after dribble out as his body only produced more. "Chaos, you are so enamoring," Jet pressed Sonic's dick up against his own stomach as he let him fuck into his hand, wanting to avoid getting something shot in his eye when the moment snuck up on them.

"And you feel even better, fuck, fuck-!" He loved the way Sonic's back arched into a curve when he pressed back into his prostate, the tightening walls around him pulling him moments away from his own orgasm. Then it was happening before Jet could announce it, liquid heat spilling all up into Sonic as Jet scratched down his hips to keep him still, not wanting Sonic to pull back up and away again. He needed him around him, white cum trailing down the sides of his shaft and out back onto his body where Sonic sat.

The hedgehog’s frantic pace was brought to a sudden halt as the Prince came inside him, green eyes widening briefly before total pleasure wracked his body. The hand working his cock was the last bit of stimulation he needed, his body squeezing tight as a vice.

“Ah— god!” Sonic gasped, eyes fluttering shut. “Fuckfuckfuck—“

If Jet’s pride had wanted the guardsmen outside his chambers to be well aware of the consummation with the new rebel slave, the unabashed moans that spilled one after another from the trembling, writhing hedgehog on top of him left no room for curiosity. The angle the prince pinned his throbbing cock at meant he came up his own belly and chest, shivering with every pulse of cum forced out of him.

One hand clutched Jet’s shoulder hard, nails biting a little into flesh, the other twisting in the cushioned lounge. His tail twitched and his head dipped down, flushed as Sonic felt the hawk’s spend inside him, leaking out. He let his weight fall, resting fully on Jet’s hips, wincing slightly at the momentarily overstimulating feeling of his prostate being brushed against immediately after coming, breathing ragged. Belatedly, he released Jet’s shoulder from his hard grip and let his gaze settle down on the blissful prince, peach chest heaving.

How would the Prince react in the afterglow? Would he bring him in to cuddle, like Shadow had gotten him used to, or would he simply kick Sonic at the foot of his bed, only to later nudge him again when he required him?

Slowly, Sonic raised his hips until the softening cock slipped out of him, a generous bit of the stuff sliding out and dripping down when he did so. Now, he was on his knees over him, hovering, holding his breath.

Perhaps it was a bit all too fast, but Jet never let go of Sonic's hips, hands sliding down his flanks and squeezing the strong muscle there. When Sonic pulled up off him, he was just too tempting to leave alone for long. Jet dragged him up over his chest, guiding Sonic to crawl up over his face as a trail of spend dripped in a line over Jet's chest.

And when he didn't sit back down again, Jet curled a hand around that blue tail to seat him down in the crook of his open beak, starting with his tongue as he licked him clean from the inside out.

He wanted to hear more of that voice echoing off the high ceiling, starting slow with the still sensitive flesh with each slow drag of his tongue. Jet was careful not to scratch him with the crook of his beak, the hooked tip alone enough incentive to keep Sonic from thrashing too much less it did accidentally graze him.

Jet moaned into the softened, dripping hole, kissing up against the skin before driving his tongue inside again and again in repetitive, shallow little dips. He wasn't quite done with his proper introduction yet to his new toy, his hands pulling Sonic down further onto his face to push his tongue deep.

Even if he had been trying his best to avoid it, the tiniest of scratches scraped across Sonic's lower belly in his movements, irritating the skin underneath but not quite breaking the surface.

With the added stimulation, Sonic’s cock kept itself hard even after coming once, a little hiccup of breath choking him when he felt the first dip of a tongue inside.

“Oh, god,” he moaned, spines bristling again, and it felt so different from the time Shadow had done this. The Prince’s beak was sharp, but he didn’t even mind the way it prodded and scratched when that tongue was doing wonders on him— and in him, filching out his own cum from his pet’s body. “Jet!” His body jumped as a new pulse of arousal shot through him, making his weary cock throb back to life, hands reaching down to clutch at the proud feathers he found there. The movement knocked the Prince’s circlet off, not that he cared, if he even noticed.

He just rocked his hips slightly, little tail twitching where Jet held it captive in his hand. The hedgehog was seated fully, trying to resist the urge to touch himself when arousal fully primed him again in all its hot, febrile glory.

“Not—“ he panted, gathering his thoughts, all manners Shadow had drilled into him deserting him in a rush, “Not what I expected from a p— shit— pampered prince.” He paused to whine softly again, a loud moan torn from him at the hot, still strange feeling of that wriggling tongue moving inside him.

Reaching back, Sonic opted to return the favor. If not out of a desire to genuinely serve, then most certainly out of the simpler desire to simply not be the only one taken apart. He palmed the hawk’s spent, pink cock, the rough pads of his battle-worn fingers adding friction when they glided over the slick surface.

Jet hoped he had felt the grin he pulled at his words, enjoying the familiarity Sonic's curtness brought to their romp. Shadow probably wouldn't be pleased with how easy Sonic was to forget his role of 'pet', but if it meant surprising Jet by being proactive with being on the giving side of things, Sonic could bash their heads together again if he wanted. He should've expected someone from such a wild background to not have a smidge of fear in them for touching royalty so brashly, even if it was their job.

And the edge of those toughened hands sliding over him only intensified the feeling, both heightening his giddiness of having acquired such an exotic thing and the physical pleasure that came with it. He liked the way his name sounded on Sonic's lips, his tone entirely different than the forced formalness he had heard from him before.

He pulled Sonic just barely off him, enough so he could get a few words out without being muffled. He gave the little hole one last generous lap with the flat of his tongue before peering up at him through lustfully narrowed eyes, breath hot against wet skin.

"You want another ride? Or maybe I'll see if you can cum again with only my mouth," Jet pondered aloud, though it was obvious he was presenting a choice. "Anything to make you say my name again like that." He liked his ego being stroked just as much as his dick did, though it made him unreasonably happy Sonic wasn't tired after just one.

That had... served an issue for other pleasure slaves he had before, when he was younger. Jet still needed some discipline of his own to not take everything so fast paced, even if he could recover quick anyways. But it was his nature, as much as it was Sonic's. It promised Jet that he wouldn't be frustrated, or worse; bored.

Overexcited, easily riled— it was a perfect combination for the hedgehog rebel, who would be able to cum from just a mouth on him alone. But Sonic felt the same issue here as the first time he’d done something like this with his trainer. The tongue instead was good, and served in rousing him again in no time at all, but it left him greedy for more. And living up to Sonic’s expectations, the Prince was greedy, too.

“Then fuck me again,” he said, tilting himself back to grin down at him, making a fist around Jet’s cock. He squeezed lightly, green eyes dark on Jet before he decided to say fuck it and throw out all pretense of caution.

Sonic had never tried this before, but how different could it possibly be from riding normally? Pulling away, the hedgehog briefly mourned the loss of the tongue on him before he turned himself around, throwing a leg over so that he sat straddled facing away from Jet. A little more preoccupied with figuring out the logistics of this new position had him slightly on the aloof side of things as he raised up his hips, blue tail flagging.

The leash that had been carelessly flung over his shoulder now dangled down past his hip, fully within the Prince’s reach should he be tempted to really stretch the illusion Sonic made of pet.

Sonic rested a hand on Jet’s thigh, leaning his weight there slightly as he rose onto his knees. Reaching back with his free hand he captured Jet’s prick again, gripping it so that he guided the tip into his prepared entrance. Slick with oil and the hawk’s cum, he slipped in easily, tail stiffening as he slid down over it.

“Chaos,” he groaned, raggedly, and removed his hand to balance himself slightly forward so that the prince had an unimpeded view of a twitching tail and tensing thighs when he dropped down to take him the rest of the way.

Jet moaned as he watched himself sink into Sonic again, sitting up and wrapping his arms around the small of his waist to grab around his cock. It was nothing less than encouraging, letting Sonic fuck into his fist again with every movement while he raised himself up and back down on him. The beak that had scratched into the soft pudge of his lower belly was now cradled over his shoulder, teeth behind nipping the skin and junction up to where it met his neck.

The blunted quills that pressed into his feathers were of no threat, perhaps a little discomforting but nothing harmful. It gave Jet full access to lean all the way in, his other hand coming up to play with the oil drenched fur on Sonic's chest and tracing over anything that stood out. The curve of his ribcage, old battle scars that had healed along the skin, until his fingers settled and were playing with one of the usually hidden buds of his nipple that were usually hidden by the peach fur.

"I thought speed is what you were known for," Jet pulled his mouth away from his shoulder finally, leaning back a bit to let Sonic take some leverage back. "Give me a little taste of that, mhhmm?"

About two stories below, the room was strangely quiet as Shadow held his head in his hands.

He had been mad enough to consider Sonic ready for the crown prince, and now it was all up to him to prove that Shadow hadn't lost his sanity within the months Jet had assigned him charge of the Blue Phantom. Of Sonic. One of the toughest cases he'd trained perhaps in all of his career. Now that the leash was out of his hands and out of his sight, anxiety nipped at his heels with every step down back to his office in the dungeons.

By the time he closed the door behind him, and there was no chatty blue hedgehog to converse with or scold, he couldn't help but feel a little nervous. He had to trust his work, he had to. Sonic had made great improvements from when they first met, and had progressed through trials of trust and loyalty to make his way up to where he was supposed to be. In the Prince's chambers, in his bed, under service and happy to please.

Shadow ran his fingers up over his ears and pulled at two of his head quills. What if Sonic wasn't ready? The fact he wasn't entirely sure was making him go further back on his doubt. Had he trusted his heart too much? Why was his heart in this job at all? It never had been before. It was enough to make a man go mad. He had gotten used to Sonic's presence around him like no other slave had, the blue hedgehog refusing to be meek and quiet and blend in to the walls unless noticed first.

So now without him taking up space in the room, Shadow couldn't help but feel like he hadn't done his job right. He had violated so many typical protocols just to get through to that thick, disobedient skull. Sonic hadn't even properly called him 'master' yet, only sticking to 'sir' and his name when appropriate.

Chaos, what the hell had he been thinking? If Sonic was incapable of using a proper title other than 'prince', he just wondered how badly things could go if Jet took offense to someone in such a low role playing with his title so casually?

Calling a guard from the outside over, he didn't dare to go back to the palace upstairs. He was surely overreacting, just nervous for a presentation he could not control, that was all. If he was sure enough to go through with presenting Sonic to the Prince, then there surely would be no worries, right? He had a tea set called for him, chamomile and clove spiced tea to ease his anxieties with as he sat back down to fill out more busywork. He was actually thankful for the mindless drawl this time, and without Sonic around to distract him, maybe it would pass in an instant.

When the time finally came and Shadow sat back down at his desk to settle, and he picked up one of the fine porcelain cups however, the accidental nervous force he held the handle with had it break clean off. The liquid contents and white chipped pieces shattered on impact to the floor.

A bad omen, nothing less.

God, he hoped Sonic was doing okay.

Chapter Text

Sonic couldn’t have been doing any better.

Jet wanted speed? Well Jet was getting speed. The hands that had caressed him, tracing old scars and pinching his nipples had his quills bristling in pleasure and ready to accept the Prince’s challenge. Jet’s view was of a hard, muscled back as he shifted to lean back instead— his hands planted themselves on Jet’s chest, impudent little tail wagging at the wonderful new angle and, yeah, he’d definitely be adding this position to his growing arsenal of sexual ‘save for later’s. The slender tip of the hawk’s cock was perfectly positioned to nudge right up against his prostate, so much so that even if he simply ground down he could cum easily.

“Almost hard to tell which is the pet between the two of us,” he teased with a quiet snicker, rocking his hips. “Who knew the Prince of Babylon was such a whore for rebels.”

But he was ready to take up the challenge Jet threw down, and so he gladly indulged the prince in a display of speed to go along with his tireless energy. And Sonic was tireless, the pace he set as hard as it was fast, never faltering except for when a hit directly against that sweet spot made him tighten up and see stars. He got to fuck himself exactly how he wanted it, without reserves and without the nervous trepidation of anyone else who might’ve been too afraid to work him this hard.

And the sounds he made were nothing short of debauched, helpless to stop them. Blue ears folded back, his eyes slipped shut in a daze as the descriptor of whore couldn’t fully fall on the Prince alone, not with how recklessly good he felt at the electric danger of insulting a prince while getting fucked.

Sonic wouldn’t have fathomed his ability to do this just a few months ago. He’d wondered if he’d even be capable of getting hard for his new master, and now he was fucking himself in his lap, every heightened cry and moan sounding so far away that he almost didn’t realize he was making them.

“Fuck me,” he gasped out, reflexively, though he was already doing just that. “Fuck me, fuck me, yes—“

"If begging for me to make you cum is your idea of 'rebellion', then please," Jet thrust his hips up when Sonic threw himself back down, as if he could get deeper inside him somehow. "Feel free to overthrow my throne." What other royals would've perhaps taken as too far or worth punishment was clearly something Jet enjoyed entertaining, whether it was simply part of Sonic's appeal to him or that he liked the guts it took to degrade him so openly.

The idea was far too attractive in concept, when put like that. The brief thought of taking Sonic in front of not just his court, but the entire kingdom to see was a rather delicious one indeed, a depraved show of lust for no reason but for selfish enjoyment. The Prince, seen for how lax he truly was in the bedroom, and the Blue Phantom loudly begging for his cock in front of whoever made up the snobby little resistance troop that he had came from. Something that could never happen due to just too many things that it would put in jeopardy, but the image in his mind's eye took him far.

Jet moved his hand away from Sonic's chest to tug at one of the blunted head quills, strong enough to yank his head back and make his back arch in a pretty curve but not enough to intentionally hurt.

"Who knew that such a ragtag little freedom fighter would love being filled up so much?" He mirrored his own words back at him lightly.

He would really have to thank Shadow when he eventually came around for his report. That, and rub it in his face about Sonic being an excellent addition to his bedchambers. He would have to agree with that now, surely.

Though Jet was a show off first, and a prince second. He was as loudly vocal as his pet was with every minute passed, coherent thought slowly washing away into fuzzy white static in his head as he openly moaned out his pleasure, grinding up into that sweet spot when Sonic tried to pull back up and get away. "Fuck, don't stop. Chaos, don't stop, I'll— I'm— shit..!" He was so close, his cloaca throbbing in the acuminating puddle of slick underneath him.

Another rush of fluid was shooting up into Sonic as Jet pulled him down on his cock in need, riding out his next orgasm as he suckled a new hickey onto Sonic's shoulder, muffling his cries into blue fur.

Sonic’s head tipped back and his cry was harsh and ragged as he was tugged down fully again, coming moments before the prince so that his body clamped down in a sweetly vicious grip around the cock inside. It sent Jet over the edge after him, Sonic gritting his teeth and almost struggling to hold himself up from falling back onto Jet as liquid heat flooded him again.

It felt unbearably good, the flood of pleasant endorphins this time making his knees go soft. He let his weight drop so he sat fully, hissing pleasurably at the bite to his shoulder, the ear closest to him swiveling to catch Jet’s moans.

“Jet,” he gasped out, shivering, as his climax finally resolved itself, leaving him ready to collapse down again, chest moving hard. “Fuck..”

It was the quickest he’d ever gotten pulled into an immediate second round, hole well stretched and twitching around Jet until the hedgehog pulled himself forward. Mirroring the initial way he’d positioned himself, he lifted up his hips and made an inconspicuous noise like a whine when Jet’s cock slipped free. That little hole closed again, dripping. His own cum had shot onto the chair, and he let himself settle on his knees, grabbing Jet’s for support as he caught his breath.

Sonic turned to glance over his shoulder back at the blissfully spent hawk, considerably less bristly and nervy as he’d been when they’d first entered the chambers, blue coat sweat-dampened and quills attractively rumpled, the green eyes dark. Still, though, breaking the illusion of mild-mannered slave was his toothy grin.

“Okay,” he said, between breaths. “I get why you don’t have other slaves, now.”

Though a little awkwardly full, still, Sonic left Jet’s lap to let himself fall belly-down into the cushions beside the prince, his guard finally down, and attitude pleasantly sex-drunk. He had no idea if the prince was a cuddler like Shadow was, but it was what he was familiar with, so he nuzzled right up against him. Sonic’s lust-addled brain dipped on remembering that he was technically lying with the enemy — or maybe that made it better, in some twisted way — when Jet was so…shockingly pleasant to be near.

His attitude was unbearably cocky, exactly as he’d predicted. But it was born of a place of well-founded confidence— or so, Sonic was interpreting. He’d often entertained fantasies of the prince being a baselessly cocky figure, impotent and with no real skill in anything besides sitting pretty and wearing jewels. As it turned out, the Prince rejoiced in the sport of racing, had hated that loathsome captain of the guard, and enjoyed Sonic’s brand of unslave-like impertinence.

He could’ve done worse.

"Hands on learner, are you?" Jet teased at him, taking a moment to catch his breath as his feathers rustled back into place, arousal dying off for the relaxation of the afterglow. When Sonic fell into his arms he only encouraged it, his leg hiking up Sonic's hip and resting there comfortably as the rest of their bodies pressed close.

He wanted to know more about him. Shadow could only document so many things, the real experience coming from getting to know his little rebel. His crude manners and casual talk, little mannerisms he would get to see here and there the more time they spent together. Jet compared him much to himself in the way. If there was a proud hawk between the title of 'prince', then surely there was something else behind the legend of the Blue Phantom.

Something promising, from what they had just done.

This was just the introduction, and he was already a rightful mess. His circlet had fallen to the ground somewhere, long forgotten. His thighs were sticky and growing cold, the dampness of the seat underneath him now feeling a little gross to continue putting his weight on. Whatever else lied in store for them only excited him at the thought.

"Other than totally satisfied and starstruck by my performance, naturally—" Jet was talking himself up and he knew it, overexaggerating his suave facade of overconfidence, "How're you feeling? Want a drink?" He was a surprisingly good host, though you had to be in royalty to survive through parties and functions with other kingdoms. As if indulging in the cuddly mood, the tip of his beak preened gently around one of Sonic's ears, an affectionate gesture even if a slightly odd one.

Distracted by the gentle preening to his ear, his weak spot, Sonic hummed some noncommittal sound as his eyes slipped shut. He’d never before in his life purred before he’d met Shadow, and still he felt self conscious about the reflexive noise, and felt dangerously close to doing so now. Sonic tilted his head slightly, encouraging the attention to his ear, blinking heavy eyes back open.

He wasn’t at a place where he’d fall asleep on the Prince, yet. Thoroughly enjoyable as the sex was, it would take some time yet before he’d be that comfortable. The hedgehog had the impression of walls halfway lowered, but ready to shoot up again at a moment’s notice.

“Totally starstruck,” he echoed playfully, a grin twitching at the corners of his lips. “I imagine I feel half as good as you do.”

It endlessly fascinated him how bizarrely the Prince’s mind worked. Surely he’d been intended for execution when he was caught. Any sane leader would have done so on the spot the moment he’d head-butted a member of the royal family. And yet, accurate as Shadow’s crude retelling had been in the beginning, Jet had indeed been enamored by him. How absurd! But it made Sonic all the more fond of him now that they had finally met.

"A drink sounds good. Later, though.” He felt too boneless to move, or to be dislodged by Jet moving, either. A strange thought struck him suddenly, stilling beside Jet.

The King had died years ago. It was a short enough time that Jet hadn’t fully cemented his rule since then, and yet he’d only just realized that the Prince was still just a Prince. He was referred to by the lesser title, ‘Highness,’ rather than ‘Majesty’ as his father had been. Sonic mentally shuffled seasons around in his head, but he hadn’t even kept up with his own age, nevermind someone else’s whom he didn’t know.

“I just realized I don’t know how old you are,” he said, the topic seemingly random, though it had flowed naturally in his own mind. Just as I’ve realized I know nothing about you at all. As much as he didn’t want to move away from the preening beak, he rolled so that he was lying halfway over Jet so he could look up at him.

And was faced by his visage. He’d only seen Jet’s father from a distance, across a battlefield, and he’d been younger then. And yet, how old had Jet been when he’d lost the last of his family? Sonic had rejoiced at the King’s death when the news came, as had all the rebels, with little thought of the prince left in his stead.

Not yet allowed to go against the King of Babylon, no matter his speed, and yet resenting as he’d watched his makeshift family of rebels fall to his sword and to his men. Sonic never got to see the King up close, and could only catch the gleam of golden armor, and yet he remembered distinctly the proud crown of green feathers protruding from the vicious-looking helm. At the time, he’d assumed they’d been decoration. But looking down at the Prince, he knew now they must have shared a lot in common in appearance.

Absentmindedly, he traced one of those feathers, realizing his golden circlet was gone. Jet could’ve been any other ordinary young man after a romp, if Sonic let himself believe it. He thought of the disrespectful Captain of the guard, and Shadow’s awful retelling of how things ran under the King’s rule, and Slinger’s paranoia about serving the royal family— and things were starting to come together in his mind.

“Shadow says I’m nineteen,” he offered. Perhaps Jet was his age, maybe twenty? That meant it wouldn’t be long until his coronation at twenty-one, if that was the case. And then he’d be a king’s slave. How dizzying to think about.

"Oh," Jet flowed with Sonic's jump in topics, easily staying in pace with him where such leaps and bounds from subject to subject before had caught the likes of Shadow off in conversation. "Do you not know your birthday? I turned eighteen not long before you stumbled into my court," Jet made mindless little circles on the small of Sonic's back with his fingertips, right above where that little blue tail rested. "I've known about you since I was fifteen, though. Kind of had to, with all the trouble you were causing back then." The hawk laughed, once stressing memories now faded to something comical.

The blue blur he had once cursed out in vain as a child was now the very same thing resting by his side, tired from riding his cock and rumbling happily from his affections. Life was so strange, that way.

"Don't look at me like that, the crown adds like, five years, I'm sure." He cawed at him, but carried on.

Jet continued to talk about himself, proud to boast how far he had come as a young royal with all his authentically grown character and trials he had gone through to get the respect he had from his court. "The king — my father — passed on when I was fourteen, and my mother had felt so much grief from this place she left for new adventure." Unlikely that a kingdom would turn a blind eye to the willful disappearance of their queen, but Jet might've been telling a slightly sugarcoated version of the story.

"I ended up getting all of this way before I was supposed to. Babylon wasn't happy their new appointed leader was a teen, and the whole place definitely would've gone up in flames if it hadn't been for Shadow. His father did work under mine, and it helped a lot to have someone else know my grief and stress handling this entire kingdom that had suddenly fallen into my hands." Jet's grin had faded into a bittersweet smile, briefly looking towards the wall rather than back at Sonic.

Then he was right back up on it, "I told him he could have any position he wanted in my court. And he said people would like me a lot better if I wasn't just like my father, but better than him, and that we should start where people were the smallest. So I was like, 'yeah sure, if you wanna be the slave handler or whatever, go for it', and it worked? A lot of senior generations didn't like it, but turns out, people will want to be part of your country when it treats them well. But I am constantly cleaning up the blood my parents left behind,"

Jet was motioning with his free arm as he spoke, a lot of emotion packed into his story.

"The resistance is fucking annoying because it's a lot of miserable old geezers who were mad at my dad for killing a bunch of people. Which I get it, but they're too stuck in their ways, and if it meant the monarchy ceased existing, they would've crushed my egg before I even hatched." Jet turned to Sonic then, feathers finally resting back into place as he took a moment to calm down. "Anyways. How was your childhood?"

Sonic had been silent as Jet spoke. Not merely out of politeness— but because it was so much more than he’d expected Jet to tell him. And maybe Sonic was slightly humbled to be faced with how wild his misconceptions of the Babylonian Prince really had been all this while. It went against his entire life’s purpose— Jet was the enemy to the Resistance, and supposedly he’d been trying to make things better?

It was an impossible pill to swallow, but swallow it he must. He searched all over Jet’s face as he spoke, filtering through his words for lies, but the blue eyes were earnest and showed everything. He wanted to believe it all to be untrue, because the only other option was that the people who had raised him and instilled purpose in him had lied about the enemy.

And yet, in the actions of the old Captain, and in Shadow’s loyalty, and now with his own eyes, he saw all the ways it was true.

Naturally, Sonic’s first instinct was to defend the resistance. And it wasn’t Jet’s status as his master that held him off from doing so, but the heaviness of his own chest.

“Not much to say,” he said, with his head on Jet’s chest, the words sounding a little stilted. He idly plucked at a flyaway feather on Jet’s chest as he considered what to say. Not that he had anything to hide— it was remembering anything that gave him pause. “I really didn’t have one.”

Sonic didn’t hold warm memories of a time before war, or before loss, the way Jet could. He had no trouble at all picturing a young, toddling green hawk, trailing on his father’s coattails around the palace. Sonic had no view on what the Queen had been like, but through Jet, he imagined in his mind that she’d been warm, and at least had loved Jet before she left. In the same way he’d imagined his own mother might have been, had hoped on his weakest nights that she’d held him when he was an infant and protected him. He imagined his father to have been brave, and kind, the kind of leader that would’ve opposed the King. The kind of leader who wouldn’t have lied to him, or used him for his own gains.

Sonic couldn’t so easily imagine himself running around so innocently. In that respect, the Prince was even more foreign to him than by birthplace. He envied him that. Even just a handful of years before he’d been mercilessly thrust into conflict by people who were supposed to care about him, and the root of it all was right under him—

Not Jet, but the legacy he was carrying. A legacy he was, against all odds, trying to improve. Their past was like an open wound between them, bleeding out on each other. Sonic had never dared to humanize the Prince in his mind, because he knew killing him would become impossible should he ever come to know him. But knowing him was what he wanted, now, curiosity burning.

It wasn’t in Sonic’s nature to open up like this. He’d never done so, not even to Shadow, who he didn’t want to burden with such a thing. He felt it all spilling out of him, now.

“I guess you’re right, in a way, but the resistance isn’t just full of old geezers. They’re the ones in charge, sure, and they weren’t…too kind, to say the least. But they taught me everything I know. I didn’t really get used to anyone, though. I just remember an endless revolving door of people I didn’t know, telling me what to do, how to be, what to think. Telling me it was good the King was dead, telling me the Prince deserved it next.”

It was too much for a slave to say. But all thoughts of being a slave had fled his mind in a rush, and he spoke frankly, with too much honesty, hand stilling on the feathers of Jet’s chest.

“I was glad when he died. I don’t know much of anything about where I came from, or even who my parents were, but I know he—“ Killed them. He didn’t say it, as open as it was between them. Pushing past the sudden blockage in his throat, he said, “All I know is I was discovered after the Eastern Conflict, somewhere in the rubble of that place. And then I was brought here.”

Sonic turned his head again so they were looking at one another, his green eyes unreadable.

“I expected you to kill me on sight, with the kind of bounty on my head. I didn’t expect this.”

I didn’t expect you, was what he meant. Settling his chin on Jet’s chest again, his gaze slid away, returning to carding through his feathers.

"I do love a good bounty," Jet smirked, but he shook his head. "I was just so... interested in you. Hearing about you for years, cleaning up your messes and then — bam — you're right in front of me, subdued and barely able to hold yourself up. I'll admit, I thought 'really?' when I first saw you, because you weren't this big-talk legend anymore that people only saw rare sightings of, or some hero to the people who hated me."

Violence may have been his father's first course of action, but Jet was a different kind of ruler. Babylon had stayed just as greedy for riches and power, but Jet didn't like to squander his riches as if it wouldn't matter to him if they one day ceased to exist. Jet was a collector of the rare and lavish, the kind to rest atop his pile of gold and jewels to truly treasure it, rather than flaunt it all by blowing it all meaninglessly somewhere.

"Your worth to me didn't stem from killing you. I think that's just stupid." Jet put it in layman's terms, his hand trailing up Sonic's back and around where the clip of his collar resided, pulling up the once forgotten leash and wrapping the slack around his hand. "Imagine obsessing over this one thing for years, and then mindlessly throwing it away the moment it fell into your hands. Was it ever really worth anything, then?"

He had heard the guards speak of selling that bright blue coat for spoils, dequilling him and defacing the original product to make quick riches. The thought of shattering a jewel to sell for smaller quantities was almost enough to sicken him, the thought process behind such acts small minded and selfish to an excessive degree.

"You came to me, and I saw that you were just like me. We all have our names and titles, but if I cut you, you'd bleed. Your value drops to almost nothing if I had just sent you away to be executed." It was extremely ironic that Jet was being the one to equalize them, and not even on a base level of personhood versus power like Shadow had.

Pleasure slaves were meant for companionship, but Jet was awfully lax with those he was clearly comfortable around. Like the fact he was the Prince meant nothing when he was talking with you, though it was clear he still hadn't forgotten the respect royalty was owed by everyone underneath his power. He went on;

"No, I wanted to own you. You were a treasure I sought for before I knew you, I don't really get why people were shocked when I wanted to keep you close to me. All your feats, all the power you clearly displayed— and god, you're super attractive, too. Why wouldn't I want to have that?"

Sonic stared at him, a flush slowly creeping up his face as the Prince spoke, every word more unbelievable than the last. That word stuck out to him, obsess, and he found it impossible to believe. The thought that the Prince had been in pursuit of him, but not at all for the reasons Sonic had been pursuing him, was a little overwhelming.

It was that Jet valued him for reasons entirely unrelated to servitude. He wasn't prepared for the weird flattery of it— that the Prince actually desired his power, his rebellion, all the things that had only made him an enemy to his kingdom. Green eyes slid away, a little embarrassed, reaching up to rub at his nose.

"I should've expected you would be insane," he said, burying his face into the white feathers of Jet's chest, the tips of his ears warm. It was all the more poignant the fact that he currently had this very guy's cum leaking out of him still, his huff of breath disturbing the feathers around his nose. He rolled over, minding his quills even though they were blunted and harmless, looking up at the ceiling rather than directly back at the Prince, nestled in the crook of Jet's arm.

"You're surprising," he said, letting one of his hands rest on his chest, the other outstretched lazily across Jet. For a moment, he wondered what Babylon would've been like had Jet been ruling all this time instead of his father. Or his father before that, and before that, if war would have been avoided, if slavery would even be a thing— but such thoughts were useless to him. "I know Shadow told me you were different, but..."

His ear twitched briefly, wondering if Jet would reprimand him for using Shadow's name so casually, a tiny smile tugging at his lips as he stared up at the decorated ceiling.

"Is that why you don't have any pleasure slaves of your own?" he asked. "I can't imagine anyone else insane enough to not be afraid of you." He smirked, because of course he didn't fear Jet, but he knew he was the exception and not the rule. "But, besides that, I mean...you don't need another servant. You've got a whole kingdom under your thumb. There's nothing I could offer you as a servant you can't get from anyone else."

Companionship...Shadow had mentioned that was a goal among pleasure slaves, and yet they needed to work as companions, didn't they? From all Jet had opened up about to him, he knew instinctively that the hundreds of meek and obedient pets of the court couldn't offer Jet what he was looking for.

"Well, of course I've gotten offers from all around. Other kingdoms seeking to make trades, or solidify an allyship or something rather. But as I've said before... Babylon is known for its servant quality the best. Nothing anyone outside could give me could compare, and everything I found inside my kingdom's walls was boring." The cost of being fickle was that Jet was hard to please, and something that might work for him one day might lose his interest the next once he had his fill of it.

And even with Shadow in charge of the training processes and all that, slaves were still... just that, to Jet. Something stable that had always been there from his childhood, and he was expected to have as he grew into adulthood. A given factor rather than something new and spontaneous like other kinships he formed with neighboring kingdoms, places he knew nothing about but was eager to learn from.

So in that regard, Sonic was almost right. If he wanted someone to do his bidding, anyone would. There was nothing special about being served when that was literally his entire life, with other people doing everything for him. A good reason Jet loved to race around the palace— it was a thrilling activity that was his, setting his own records and throwing himself into action over hearing about how someone else did it in his name.

Not to mention, he was the Prince. Even Shadow held a barrier of royal respect for him, though Jet liked prodding at the dark hedgehog until he got so exhausted with him it dropped. Naturally, as well intended his slaves around the palace were, were trained under some degree with the same morals, and held the same respect.

He knew it was a good thing, but it left Jet feeling like he was on the outside looking in, normalcy he would never have. He wasn't born to have it.

Which made it all the more appealing to crave.

"You were right, about the whole rebel thing before. I love being worshipped, don't get me wrong, but I like it better when I've proven I've earned it to someone who doesn't believe I do. That, and..." He blushed lightly, laughing it off. "I haven't met anyone who I'm 'too much' for, yet. Is all that stamina you have from years of fighting?"

Jet reached around to pull Sonic back up onto his chest, squeezing their bodies together as he held him tight, enjoying the little trickle of their aftermath that dripped down from below Sonic's tail onto his own.

"I'm glad you attacked me that first time, actually. I feel like I would've been disappointed if my beloved Blue Phantom had just taken my sentencing for him lying down," He grinned mischievously. "Among other things."

Sonic shook his head a little as he let himself be pulled back onto the hawk’s chest.

“In your dreams I’ll take anything of yours lying down,” he snorted, because he knew he could get away with it. “The fighting is a part of it,” he said, shrugging a little. “But I was running before I was fighting. Don’t ask me where it comes from— I don’t know. But the people who were looking after me figured out pretty early on. I was walking before I was supposed to, and then running. I guess if I didn’t have weird stamina to go along with weird speed, I wouldn’t get very far, would I?”

It made him crave freedom so much more. Without his spines, Sonic had been stripped of his weapons. But without his speed, Sonic felt stripped of his very sense of self. He longed more than anything to see an uninterrupted stretch of land, to feel a breeze in his pelt that wasn’t merely through sitting by a window in the court. He enjoyed the daily baths he got, but he would happily embrace the grit of sand in his fur, wouldn’t even complain of the scorching heat if it meant running again, with only the sun as his oppressor.

“Lucky for you, I suppose,” he added, with a little tilt of his head, his lidded gaze meaning to be teasing sarcasm, and coming off a little flirtatious instead. “The real reason the Prince of Babylon doesn’t keep pets. Because he can’t keep them. He’s too greedy, too insatiable.”

How exhilarating it felt to be able to tease the crown prince this way, the joyful insults not unlike how he’d bantered with friends before. And on rare occasions when he was particularly lenient with Sonic, with Shadow as well. But Jet not only tolerated it; he actively encouraged it, by the way he grinned and his eyes brightened, the arm around him holding him a little tighter.

Sonic was stupidly fond of the Prince already, more than he had any right to be. It occurred to him now in a way it hadn’t at the time of discovery; that he’d been wrong about the types of people Jet employed under his rule. The Captain had not been instated by Jet, whom the Captain hadn’t even respected enough to resist putting his hands on the very Blue Phantom the prince had ordered brought to him. How much more poison lurked in this kingdom that the hawk had simply had the misfortune of inheriting?

Sonic threw a leg over Jet’s waist and let himself be held there, thinking privately that if the prince wanted to test his stamina— he didn’t think he’d mind all that much.

“At any rate—“ He stretched himself out, closing his eyes as they lounged. “Thanks for not killing me,” he said with a smirk, not with particular gratitude. Not that Jet would have expected any such gratuities from his disobedient pet regardless.

Jet reflected the sated, confident aura that was radiating off of Sonic himself as he brushed his beak forward against Sonic's lips.

"You made all the time I waited to have you worth it," He measured, thinking of the weeks and eventual months that passed by when he had badgered Shadow for an update on the Blue Phantom, only to be met with a stern 'not yet' or a reminder of the time he had allowed Shadow to complete such a project. As long as it would take, and all that.

Speaking of which, however, he wasn't keen on letting their time end so shortly when they had only just begun, scratching the surface of what their relationship would develop into. Jet kissed Sonic properly, long and deep before urging them both to sit back up, sliding off the ruined lounge chair they had consummated Sonic's ownership on and standing up.

"Does the rebel in you want to infiltrate my chambers, curious as to what he might find so deep inside the castle?" It was innuendo as much as it was an invitation, Jet turning and spinning lightly on his heel, the swish of his tail meant to playfully entice his slave into enthusiastic consent for what he suggested next. "Are you good to follow me to a proper bed, or is your backside in need of an escort already?"

He crouched over, teasing as he put his hands on his knees and beckoned Sonic closer.

"Come on, Blue Phantom. Can you keep up with one of the self-proclaimed fastest royals in the universe?"

Sonic’s eyes had been tracking the Prince’s movements all the while, his own body recovered, and evidently Jet’s as well. Ears and quills raising in anticipation, he met Jet’s challenge with a sly look. He felt more than ever the Prince’s need for challenge, for a bit of fun in this backwards place, and threw away any recollection that he was meant to be a pet serving.

Rolling himself off the lounge, Sonic held his head high as he followed him deeper into the chambers, where his actual bed would be.

Just as he did all things, Sonic went headfirst, and fearless.

It must have been very, very late by now.

The Prince rejoined his side, completely bare of anything at all at this point, feathers rumpled, jewelry discarded, the lighting in the room much darker than it was several hours ago. There was only the lamplit orange glow here and there, and Sonic could hardly remember either of them stopping long enough to light them, unless the discreet servants had slipped in at some point and done it for them.

The hawk flopped soundlessly beside him, reflecting Sonic’s own state; thoroughly wrung out. There was no use counting how many rounds they’d gone, on and off all through the day and evening, pausing to snack on platters brought in and drink goblets of water or wine while they rested. All the while, Sonic had ridden him; had been pushed down and fucked; put his mouth to the Prince’s cock; had by the end rested lazily on his side and let the Prince pull his tail aside and lift his leg to grind inside him. And oh so wonderful had been the one time Jet had pushed him back by the shoulders and said, “I can’t wait anymore,” and had slid that unexpected little entrance over Sonic’s straining cock. It was a sensation unlike anything he’d yet to experience with Shadow; to be inside someone.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t lasted long, writhing and almost ready to beg from the overstimulation as Jet rode him into two orgasms while inside.

Wrung out was the correct term, for sure.

The bed was so much more comfortable than anything he’d ever been on, and could have fallen asleep there, despite his reluctance to do so. Jet was still too new to him, not quite someone Sonic could be entirely at ease around, but the temptation was there.

Sonic hadn’t bothered to ask what he’d gotten up to do, merely lowered exhausted quills as Jet threw an arm across his lower back and preened at his ears, which he did lazily. But sometime later, after Jet had gone still, it became obvious; a servant came in, quiet as to not be too disturbing, but announcing herself respectfully. Her eyes were kept determinedly down to the floor as she came to the edge of the bed chambers and bowed very low.

“Master Shadow is here to retrieve the slave from you, my Prince,” she said, gently.

Sonic found himself a little surprised, and equally pleased, a blue ear swiveling toward the servant girl’s announcement, forcing a heavy eye open. The Prince, exhausted, waved him away, but he was smiling into his pillow. Most certainly a promise of next time.

It was a hard time, getting all his limbs back in working order. Standing was a miraculous feat, immediate soreness shooting through his body. He padded quietly, but unevenly, across the soft rugs of the bedchamber, too tired to do anything but obediently follow the girl out.

Waiting on the other side of the entrance to the royal wing, was Shadow. Riddled with anxiety and more nervous than he had felt in years. But, the palace wasn't in flames, and as far as he knew, Jet was still alive. It was standard for a check in after the first night to see how a slave would acclimate to a new relationship, but it hadn't even been a full twenty four hours yet.

But it was deep into the night, and Shadow was restless at his desk. The penmanship of his notes was beginning to become sub-par to what it usually was, messy and heavy handed with ink. So what was the harm in coming a few hours early anyways, especially if they were done for the night? He didn't want to take any chances that Sonic might have a change of heart, warrior born and raised, seeing the sleeping hawk next to him helplessly on the bed—

At best, he was protecting Babylon from losing another ruler so soon. At worst? He'd walk in on something that meant Sonic was trustworthy with his call.

So when the doors opened again and he saw the same blue hedgehog he dropped off this morning, he couldn't help the wheeze of relief that left his lungs.

"Sonic," Shadow called to him, taking the last few steps forward so he could slump into his arms. He looked absolutely debauched, sex-dazed and on the verge of falling asleep again. "Apologies for gathering you so late, you must be tired." It looked like there was nothing to really worry about, after all. A small buff of pride swelled in his chest. "How was it?"

Sonic let himself be gathered into Shadow’s arms, and he was immediately reassured by the familiarity of him. And his scent, like cloved spice and the peculiar, stony smell of the dungeon. He slumped against the soft chest, humming quietly. His leash had long ago been removed, but for once, Shadow probably wouldn’t need it.

“Mmm,” he mumbled, his eyelids heavy, ears and spines lax. “M’ so tired,” he complained, swaying slightly when he straightened himself, ears a little sideways, his eyes heavy lidded.

“It was alright,” he said, with a small smile, reaching up to subconsciously touch his collar, which was slightly askew. Clearly, an understatement by the state of him. His fur was beyond rumpled and sticking up oddly from dried sweat, one of his ears folded slightly from how he’d been laying on it, half asleep.

Waking slightly, he reached up, touching the patch of fur on Shadow’s chest, still a little out of it from his strange time with the Prince.

“Were you worried?” he asked, knowing Shadow had been, and with total reasoning. As it were, though, he was thoroughly exhausted, and well beyond further impertinence. “Though I’m not sure if you were worried about me, or the prince,” he laughed, letting himself slump against Shadow once more, his tail wagging a little.

It felt odd to welcome Shadow’s presence again. He weirdly missed him, as enjoyable as it had been to go without needing to use titles, or act entirely like a slave. After the initial terrifying realization that he’d be alone with his greatest enemy, it had become strangely relaxed. He was still in that state of relaxation now, not quite ready to return to his image of dutiful pet just yet.

"Worried?" Shadow repeated the word, treating it like the mere suggestion was utter nonsense. He didn't try to deny it however, considering he was fetching Sonic now and not later. Though he would have to hear the whole tale when Sonic was feeling a little more up to par, a bit unusual to see him so out of energy. "You never cease to surprise me. Come, let's get you cleaned up."

Slipping around Sonic so he could pick him up, Shadow carefully slid his arms securely under his back and knees, hoisting the slack weight of spent hedgehog effortlessly away from the royal chambers.

If he were a little more coherent, Sonic might've expected him to take him back downstairs to the catacombs where they spent the mass majority of their time together, everything they could possibly need at their disposal. But instead of going down a flight of stairs, as the pillars passed them, he continued walking to the other side of the wing, placing Sonic down temporarily to open up yet another large door that led to another room.

Smaller than the Prince's quarters, of course— but still breathtakingly rich and spacious, this was Shadow's room up above. In stark contrast to his office in the dungeons or even the very bedroom Sonic had just stumbled out of, this one looked more like an important guest's room. Hardly lived in, the bed perfectly made. If there weren't servants to keep the place tidy, there for sure would've been dust and cobwebs on the various filled bookshelves that lined the walls.

He had mentioned his place in the palace once in passing, hadn't he..? It didn't fit the aesthetic Shadow prided himself on, and it reflected just how little time he truly spent here. But, it had a much more inviting bathroom connected to it than anything Sonic was used to down below, and if there was any time to use such a thing, Shadow figured it would be at a time like this.

Setting Sonic down comfortably somewhere nearby, Shadow enjoyed the soft silence between them as he turned on an oil wick burner underneath a large basin, waiting for the flame to heat the water inside to start drawing a bath for him. Hell, the tub in here was big enough to fit them both, if he felt like joining.

Sonic made a soft noise of puzzlement when he was settled onto a lounge in the room, finally taking notice that they were still within the palace, and now below ground. Curiosity was, as it always was, enough to stir him, eyes opening to glance around, taking in the new area.

“This is yours?” he said, posed a little less like a question and more like a realization. He hissed softly as he tried to sit up a little better, more tender than he’d ever been before. He was almost tempted to ask why Shadow didn’t take advantage of such luxurious living quarters, and didn’t. Sonic knew instinctively it was probably for the same reasons he wouldn’t use such a room himself.

His ear turned toward the sound of a bath being drawn, putting the slightest damper in him. Most of the time, Shadow let him get away with simply washing himself with small buckets, preferring to sling the water over himself and wring his fur free of soap. Just two or three times did Shadow manage to ease him fully into a tub, most certainly not his preferred method by a long shot.

It was useful for the purposes of getting over his fear, Shadow had reassured him, and the first time Sonic had only managed a few minutes— immediately tapping out and leaping from it, dripping, when he’d slipped and his head went below the water line. It had taken a long time to convince him to try it again, and he still needed Shadow close, or he wouldn’t go near one. Sonic had gotten a little better, since then.

So while he slightly dreaded it, he wasn’t scurrying from the room like a dog. Sonic waited there, for once not trying to argue that ’I’m not even dirty, see?’ because he was in fact, filthy. Inside and out he felt thoroughly wrecked, tacky with dried sweat and oil and any number of bodily fluids. The prince was messy.

When beckoned, he called upon his reserves to get him the six paces into the washroom, managing to do so upright, eyeing the hot water with predictable trepidation.

“Could you…” He hesitated, as he always did when he had to ask for anything, not looking directly at Shadow as he asked it. “Maybe help me, again?” It was a little vague, but only because he wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted. Did he want Shadow to help him step inside it? To clean him? Or to even sit inside with him? All of that was still too embarrassing to ask, knowing he was alone in his weird, irrational hangup, of which he couldn’t bear letting someone like Jet see for himself.

"Of course." Shadow reassured him as the tub filled up soon enough, stripping from his own gloves and footwear without another word. It seemed he intended on joining him, then.

"I know you'd much rather a shower, but this'll be faster if I have you soak." The key was to get Sonic to rest as soon as he could, so he could hear his experience with the Prince in detail later. Lastly, he threw in some oiled salts into the bath, a tinge of sweet aroma steaming off the top before he walked over to hoist Sonic back up into his arms again. The only things left on Shadow's body were the golden rings that slightly hung off his ankles and wrists without the cuffs to properly keep them in place, the ones around his feet making a small clinking noise against the walls of the tub as he stepped in.

Sonic's tail was the first thing to dip below the surface of the water, heat seeping deep into sore muscle and the salts Shadow had added coaxing out grime from his fur.

The actual "tub" wasn't anything below, not just a glorified bowl to rest in but more akin to a personal sized swimming pool, three steps leading down to where it was deepest so one could hypothetically stand up still submerged to the shoulders. Shadow gently pecked one of the lowered blue ears comfortingly as he settled them both in, water sloshing against the walls as he slowly sat down on the last step with Sonic still in his lap.

He could feel how tightly Sonic was clinging onto him for safety, and he allowed it as he moved his hands over Sonic's fur. There was a sheen of dried whatever that felt like a light layer of slime stuck into him, not that Shadow was squicked by anything he washed away.

"You did so well for me, and you're doing so good for me now. Just breathe. I promise you I will not let you drown." Shadow murmured to him comfortingly, unveiled claws tracing over his skin and every inch of Sonic's body. "Okay..?"

Sonic was consciously trying to not breathe weird, though his anxiety went up as he was lowered in, halfway submerged but held steadfast by Shadow’s arms.

He’d been so out of it that it only seemed to just now hit him, the familiarity of those calming reassurances, that he was truly back with Shadow. Just that morning, he’d wondered if he’d ever get to be alone with him again, and here he was— getting bathed, just the two of them.

He nodded at Shadow’s words, consciously forcing himself to relax by a fraction, and at least he was doing leagues better than the first time he’d been forced into a bath. Whether Shadow had his own methodical exposure therapy to thank for that, or the Prince for thoroughly wearing out his slave beyond further rebellion, Shadow wasn’t sure. It likely didn’t matter that much.

“Shadow,” he said quietly, like a realization, and he leaned in to bury his nose into the damp fur of Shadow’s chest, distracting himself from the water. “Were you waiting all this time?”

Intent on not focusing on the water, he let Shadow’s hand run over his body, for once completely relaxed when typically he was tense while being touched, whether it was from nervousness or pleasure. It felt good to be cleaned like this, too worn out to be roused in his state, even as he was tended between his legs. Sonic had to be gently coaxed into letting his limbs be maneuvered, but he let his legs be nudged part.

“I didn’t expect to be brought back yet,” he mumbled, almost dozing off, if not for the presence of the water around him keeping him awake. “Was kinda nervous I wouldn’t see you for a long time again.”

Shadow let out a sound of amusement, focusing mostly on making sure Sonic stayed in a calm state as he dragged his claws through that stunning blue pelt, more saturated than ever since the first day of his capture.

"Perhaps I was. But if you were anyone else's slave, then yes, it would be a longer separation, usually due to relocation and time for travel. You don't have to do any of that when you're only two floors above me, though."

To distract him next, Shadow brought him in for a slow, deep kiss while he slightly dipped Sonic back, still holding him tight to his chest to press their bodies together while he quickly washed over Sonic's shortened quills. He pulled him back up before he pulled away, evaluating his blind work after.

Thank the gods Sonic was so tired, he wasn't sure if the slave in his usual state would've let him get away with that.

"You're a very special case. It's only been a few months, you have an entire history of your life before, just because you've proven yourself you're agreeable with the Prince doesn't mean you'll cease all training only this far in." He pecked over those slightly drooped open lips again for his own self pleasure this time, no purpose but to praise him with. "You must not be too upset about that fact, from the sound of it."

The rest of the bath smoothed over rather quickly after that, though it came to a halt when Shadow mildly drifted his palm over Sonic's pouch and the backside of his tail after that.

"No pain? Just a little tender?" He checked, using the pads of his fingertips and nothing else to wash over the sensitive area. Even if Jet hadn't meant to hurt him, Shadow had a topical medicine to help Sonic not be so sore when he woke up again that he could apply when they were out and dry again.

Sonic found the effect of the hot, scented water to be working on him despite himself. The salts were soothing and made the skin under his fur slightly tingly, heat melting away the aches and stiffness of the day. He’d never become so relaxed around water in his life, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed at Shadow for once again proving the impossible to be possible.

“No pain,” he said, affirming the words, adding, “Just a lot tender.”

He shifted his hips slightly, just so, wincing a little, though most of the discomfort had melted. Being sensitive as he was still after these months, it was surprising he did little more than twitch mildly at the gentle touches between his legs. If he’d been in his right mind and not half asleep, Sonic would’ve been mortified being cleaned like this. But as it were, just mild embarrassment tinted his expression as he closed his eyes and grew heavier against Shadow.

When Shadow lifted them out of the water, his tail flicked, dripping. The bed beckoned him, and he wondered with half his mind if Shadow was only bathing him here and then taking him back below ground. There was no slave pallet anywhere in sight, and only the one bed.

Sonic tried half heartedly to aid in drying himself, though Shadow was doing a much more proficient job at it than he was, and he mostly remained rubbing his ears dry in lazy circles while Shadow took care of the rest, longing to finally go to sleep.

“Where am I sleeping?” he mumbled, looking about their surroundings. “Do I still go back to the dungeon with you?”

"Hm?" Shadow made an inquisitive sound, wrapping Sonic in a new warm, fluffy towel as he deemed his fur dry enough before picking him up again. A towel of his own was tucked around his waist (a human custom he had picked up in his younger years) as he brought Sonic out of the bathroom, a waft of steam following behind them as he gently placed Sonic down on the luxurious bed in front of him.

"Don't worry about it. Your job is done, I have you now."

Technically it was his, but it was so rarely slept on it maintained its condition of being practically brand new. Only slightly smaller than the Prince's own bed, the frame didn't creak like they would in the dungeons when it took their weight, even after he crawled in after Sonic. He pulled back the neatly made duvet, leaving their towels on the foot of the mattress and motioning for Sonic to come close.

The next time he would likely see the dungeons would be explicitly for training purposes, rather than an abode like Shadow treated it since he had got here. Shadow mused to himself quietly as he thought, perhaps he would finally have reason to get use out of this room, now he had someone to use it with him.

"Come. We'll leave the rest for the morning." Shadow said, his tone smooth and beckoning towards the other hedgehog as he pulled him close.

All the pillows available to choose from, and yet he didn't mind that Sonic tucked his head perfectly on the white patch of fluff adorning his chest. It was only a minute or two before he was blissfully gone to the clutches of sleep, comfortable and tucked in to rest.

Shadow continued petting down Sonic's slowly rising and falling back as he stared up at the ceiling, and eventually he might've accidentally ended up dozing off, too.

Chapter Text

Sonic came to himself the following morning in stages.

Over the course of several minutes, his deep slumber finally lightened — and that was always how it was with him. If he wasn’t as good as dead to the world, then he was barely asleep at all, the drop of a pin across a room enough to cause an ear to flick, even in the dead of night. Those carefully honed senses, and all. He usually slept that lightly more often than not, unless Shadow had ridden him hard into exhaustion from training. All night, he hadn’t stirred once.

Those twitching blue ears always came alive before the rest of his body did. Catching quiet sounds all around him, judging his immediate safety or danger, and deciding when to stir based on that. As it were, he determined himself not only safe, but supremely comfortable and reluctant to wake at all. But the day was closing in, now very late into the morning, and was pressing in on him. Finally, he was moving, green eyes blinking blearily open as he called upon his wonderfully lax muscles to come alive with the rest of him.

Soreness was prevalent, though not terribly. He realized as he stretched languorously outward that the other side of the massive bed was empty. It was instinct he didn’t realize he had to sit up and look around for a dark hedgehog, eyes finally landing on him, awake and perfectly groomed and dressed and already working.

It was so unfair. It was rare to see Shadow in any state other than impeccable presentation, even during training. He was brushed down and every accessory in place, looking like he’d been up for hours already. Sonic realized it was possible he had been up for hours already. The hedgehog almost seemed to never sleep.

“Morning, sir,” he said by way of habit. He punctuated this sleepy greeting with a stretch more cat-like than hedgehog, but this lengthy routine of stretching too was an older habit. Remaining limber to prepare his body for whatever duress he’d put it through that day was something he’d gotten used to, finding out the hard way that with incredible speed required incredible preparation, less he risk tearing muscle or ligament.

Though he wasn’t doing any running, it felt good to keep up the routine, just in case. When joints stopped popping and everything fell back into place, he tested every muscle, stretching any stiffness he felt, spines flexing when it felt good. Though, the slight stiffness under his tail couldn’t really be dealt with. Feeling more awake, and more hungry, Sonic was motivated out of bed by the sight of food, already waiting.

Discreet and impeccable servants tutted about, and it was already far different from what Sonic was used to in the dungeons. In the palace, it was always bustling with activity. The servants came and went automatically unless otherwise ordered not to, and Shadow paid them no more mind than he would to furniture as they flitted to and fro, taking the towels from the night before, replacing oil in the lanterns, bringing Shadow his requested papers, and replacing a fat-bellied pitcher on the small table where a gilded plate of breakfast waited. When he looked inside, it wasn’t wine, but water.

Sonic drank greedily straight from it, not bothering with the goblet, and was more ravenous than he could recall being in a long time. He’d snacked on morsels of sliced meats, fruit, candied nuts, and cheeses yesterday, but nothing substantial. A serving boy paused with a nervous little gesture, unable to quite hide the look of slight horror as he watched Sonic tip up the silver pitcher and drain it nearly halfway. When Sonic finally paused with a loud ahh of relief, he shot the serving boy a look and grinned, sheepishly.

“Could I get some more of this?” he asked. A servant required no honorific, just as the servant didn’t need to avert his eyes from a slave, but he was still clearly wide-eyed that a slave was requesting anything directly. Sonic lifted the pitcher, gesturing at him with it. “Water, please.”

“O-oh, yes, I—“ The boy paused, clearly torn between how exactly to address him, and realized belatedly that he wasn’t required to. “Right away,” he said, regardless, because Sonic was a royal pet. Though he held no title of his own, his rank was technically a complicated one. Slighting a royal pet could be viewed as a slight against the Crown Prince, and any mistreatment was as good as neglecting the master of said pet. Sonic watched the boy scuttle off, a little quickly, and wondered with some surprise how old he was, seemingly terrified to look in Shadow's direction.

Shrugging to himself, he lifted up the pitcher again and glanced Shadow’s way while he less desperately drained the remainder of the pitcher, turning predictably onto the food waiting for him. No longer hot, but he wasn’t complaining.

"...At least you said please." Shadow commented lightheartedly from his seat at the desk by the side of the room, scribbling one last note off a paper before bringing his head up to meet Sonic's gaze. "Good morning to you. Don't fill up on too much just yet, we'll be having an early lunch with the Prince now that you're awake." The plate of breakfast there was for Shadow initially, though he'd neglected it in favor of getting ahead of the reports he would have to fill today to send off to the rest of the servant pipeline. He didn't mind if Sonic mooched from it, even if he ate the whole thing he would bet that his stomach would have room for more.

"Sleep well, I take it? You were corpse-like when I pried you off my chest at sunrise." Shadow clasped his hands together contentedly, briefly thinking back on how Sonic had immediately curled back into the nest of blankets and pillows once Shadow had slipped away to start the day, a small smile on his muzzle while he slept soundlessly. It was an adorable sight, something he couldn't help but lean over and peak over his cheek for.

Speaking of which however, now that Sonic was coherent enough to absorb thought, he held up a single hand as he generally motioned towards the room around them.

"This is technically my room, by the way. I don't stay up here for long very often, but you are more than welcome to use it as your own now that you're officially in service to the Prince. You should be available for him whenever he calls, and having you on the other side of the wing is much easier than a couple floors down."

Truthfully, he was a bit prideful for just how far Sonic had come. The scrawny, frightful skin-and-bones fighter he had tripped up in the dirt all those months ago was now happily been snoozing away into his chest just this morning, his body gaining some of the weight it was supposed to have back and filling his natural curves out beautifully, the brightness and shine of his fur reflecting how well nourished and healthy he really was, now. Pulling out a new report sheet to fill out for Sonic had him rereading over old ones over the past months, an odd sense of nostalgia washing over Shadow as he looked back on his notes.

'Biter. Possibly an oral fixation?' One of them had read, and now he could confidently feed Sonic straight from his palm if he wanted to.

Mentions of his stubbornness, his ability to adapt. Quick wittedness that might need a damper on it if his attitude persisted. Sonic had surely blossomed into a worthy pleasure slave for the Prince overall, when the idea was only laughable before.

Shadow abandoned the papers on the desk to give Sonic his full attention, walking over to Sonic to cup his face, two fingers coming underneath his chin to scratch mindlessly. "You said it was just 'alright', last night. Care to elaborate, or was that all you really have to think about that?"

Sonic was used to Shadow touching him like this, but he still felt a little bashful whenever he reacted to the wonderful scratching under his chin. He was a little dazed to think that this room was for him, and wondered with amazement if he would remain here— unrestrained. He hummed quietly, tilting his chin up slightly.

He flushed slightly and his eyes averted elsewhere to some spot behind Shadow’s head, feeling himself growing warm all over.

“Oh, uh…”

It hadn’t just been alright. It’d been so good. More so than he could possibly prepared himself for, having been convinced he would hate anyone’s touch besides Shadow’s. He still basically thought that— just, with exceptions, evidently. If he found them agreeable enough.

Not that Sonic still had it in his mind he’d have to get used to it. But still.

If he didn’t tell the truth now, Shadow would coax it from him eventually.

“It was…” Sonic sighed, tilting his cheek against Shadow’s hand, avoiding having to look back at him. “It was better than alright. He was…surprising.”

Snorting softly, it was clearly an understatement. Sonic had loathed the idea of the Prince, and for him to come out of a day with the Prince this agreeable — and with Jet in possession of all his limbs — it must have gone very well.

“Cocky, just like you said he was. And arrogant, and self-congratulating, and greedy…” It was testament to the poignant truth of these words that Shadow didn’t correct him for saying them. Sonic was smiling a little, regardless. “And he liked me for me. I kind of hoped all this while the Prince would be fumbling and foolish during sex, but he…uh.” Chaos. He wasn’t used to this. Having sex was one thing, talking about it was another. “Well, he surprised me, is all. And was kind of nice.”

The harder truth of his night was the newfound belief that were their situations any different, he and Jet could’ve gotten along as friends.

"That's good to hear. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself with him and vice versa it seems. In my time spent with you both I definitely could see some similarity in you two." Shadow mused, holding Sonic's head in his hands as he continued to pet over him like he was properly domesticated. It was a low form of subtle affection, and Sonic was letting him do it by second nature, he noticed. That pleased him further.

Maybe it was just their age range, but the more he thought about it the more it made sense. Both Sonic and Jet had been raised with a certain set of ideals in place, on opposite ends of the spectrum albeit. But Jet had strived to rule with a kindness that broke records of his bloodline before, and Sonic had known only a world of violence and strife before this, doing what he believed would change it.

And even further, both of them had Shadow's guidance to better themselves, all based upon what someone made out of pure love had sent Shadow down such a path in the first place. He gently placed his lips down on Sonic's forehead as he hugged him towards his chest, hiding the reminiscently sad twinged smile against his skull. She would've been so proud of him.

He shook off the moment before it could really get to him, releasing Sonic from his hold and watching him eat from the platter again. "I fear to see what will happen when you two share a game of any kind. You might find yourselves in rematches upon rematches for hours." That was a much more lighthearted thought to voice instead, though he circled back immediately.

"You can say what you will without fear of treason, even though I know you would speak your mind regardless if it put your life on the line," Shadow picked off a small bunch of grapes off the platter Sonic hadn't polished off yet, popping one in his mouth himself. "Can I trust you with the same ease to serve as his pet, as much as you consider yourself mine? I know it's only been a night, so your answer may change, but. For the now?"

Sonic nibbled at breakfast, trying to be mindful that they’d be joining Jet soon to eat properly, and it gave him some seconds of distraction before he had to answer.

It was a complicated situation to consider. It went against his nature to serve, and that wasn’t something that could be so easily rewritten in a few months, which Shadow was surely aware of. And while he’d grown accustomed to Shadow, it was the trust they’d built over their time that had resulted in Sonic opting to obey him. So far, he hadn’t had that with Jet.

So it came down to a choice. Sonic was certain if he chose to rebel against the Prince, he would be taken back down to the dungeons, and return to business as usual. Until he was ready to say yes. Shadow knew he couldn’t be broken into obedience, so now he weighed his options, chewing thoughtfully.

After a pronounced pause, Sonic nodded, turning his eyes back to Shadow.

“I like him,” he answered. “I was…comfortable around him. I don’t think I mind it.”

It was an enormous concession. To give in even that much was something that had been impossible nine weeks ago.

While all of what Sonic had described had been accurate, Sonic believed now in an inner kindness Jet seemed reluctant to be open about. The more the prince let himself be open with his pet, the more his pet would be open around him, and the more of his obedience he would receive. It wasn’t the typical dynamic of a master and slave, but it was what had to work for them. Sonic was just relieved Shadow would guide him, still.

Sonic glanced sideways at the table, which the servants were setting, preparing for three seats. Tilting his head with some confusion, he said, “I think the servants are setting for the wrong room. Aren’t we meeting J— I mean, the Prince for lunch?”

"Yes, I... thought so?" It was a rare moment to see Shadow just as confused as he was, but before his master could pull one of the servants aside to ask what they were doing, the situation explained itself clearly.

The silhouetted form briefly concealed before the door opened revealed one proud royal hawk, circlet adorning his headfeathers and just as stunning as the day before. It was hard to imagine such a clean image reduced down to the tired yet demanding prince Sonic had spent the night with before, but sure enough— that was the same person, alright.

Even though it was probably into the first hour of the afternoon by now, Jet still greeted them like the day started when he did. "Good morning, the both of you." He stepped into the room, silent servants making quick of the rest of their work and automatically closing the door behind them when they left to leave the three of them alone together.

"Your Highness," Shadow bowed his head in automatic respect, shooting a look towards Sonic to at least do the same. "I thought we would meet you in the dining room, this is unexpected."

"I figured I'd return the favor. Since you left such an unexpected gift of your own to me, last night." Jet said triumphantly, eyeing Sonic up and down just as he did when Shadow had first presented him to him. "I gotta say, I was a little bummed out about my empty bed in the morning when I thought I had shared it with someone all night."

Shadow was strangely solemn in response, like he was trying not to let himself be caught off guard again so soon.

"...I apologize, my liege. I was eager to know how your first meeting went." He said, though his ears perked forward when Jet only met him with bustling energy.

"Eh, don't beat yourself up about it. I'd wanna know what he thought about me, too." Jet grinned at Sonic as he approached them, sitting down between the two hedgehogs at one of the cushioned seats the previous servants had rearranged. "You were amazing, by the way."

Jet was acting familiar with him like they had known each other since the start of their lives, a strange sense of entitlement to Sonic's body as he leaned into his personal space, so close that their shoulders knocked together. Which made sense, considering he owned him, and all.

Sonic stared with some unrestrained shock, though he was probably less taken aback than Shadow was, who was much more used to strict protocol. It was a little funny, actually, to see the composed trainer appear so out of his element, even if just for a moment.

“I,” he spoke, dumbly, not expecting this, “Uh.”

All of his attention swung now to the Prince, who he had wondered what he’d be like outside of bed— though it appeared mostly the same. Sonic gave a slightly bashful laugh, one ear twitching as Jet leaned against him, casual touch not something he was used to by others. But what was he supposed to say to that? He knew what he’d say to Shadow, but this was different.

“Thank you,” he decided on, unable to hide some slight smugness, recalling how Jet had moaned his name yesterday— many times. Remembering they weren’t alone, he added, “My Prince. You weren’t so bad, either.”

He glanced toward the plates of food, stomach still growling, but knew it was etiquette to wait for whoever was superior in rank to begin eating, first.

It was a little odd now, Jet being so flirtatious, with Shadow being right there. He could feel Shadow’s disapproval at his response, grinning as he, with some delight, didn’t look at the trainer as he settled his arm on the table, propping his cheek against his hand and gazing back at the Prince.

“I shouldn’t be surprised you’d like to hear me talk about you. If you must know— your trainer got good feedback. I assumed he probably knows all about how you are with pets.”

Idly, almost without realizing he was doing it, he waited to eat by fiddling with the nearby goblet of water, fingering the stem as his mind automatically wandered back to yesterday, hoping that the Prince wouldn’t really try to pry it out of him in front of Shadow.

"I would hope so, considering I have a cart full of bedsheets that would disprove anything otherwise if you for some reason wanted to lie about it." Jet actually nudged him with his elbow then, implicating more than enough to be left out in the open. It was an indirect sort of immodesty he carried, flaunting the fact they had slept together yet not actually saying anything explicit about it.

Not that there was anything to hold back or be ashamed of, naturally. Shadow still held a professional front, even if this is what all that time spent training Sonic was meant for. To be suitable enough for Jet, for the Prince's bedchambers. It would be far more crass to be filthy with words outside of those chambers or even a scene, and while Jet teetered on the verge of 'too far' sometimes, it was never a big enough deal to start a beef with. Especially not with the crown prince.

That was just something Sonic would have to get used to as they spent more time together, domestically like this. There was no way Shadow could train familiarity between the two, it just had to grow on its own course.

"Actually, I haven't taken in a pet of my own that wasn't given to me in..." Jet tapped the lower part of his beak as he thought back, blanking on an answer. "...Huh. You must be the first one I've picked out myself."

He shrugged, the fact not posing that big a deal to him, clearly. It could've been mildly concerned, his words suggesting there had been others before Sonic— but none had stuck around, obviously.

Shadow caught the look of questionable concern on Sonic's face and immediately gave context, Sonic the only one there that wasn't up to date on Jet's history.

"I'm just a glorified matchmaker, as it stands. It's not exactly my fault you lose interest so quickly, my Prince. I do what I can with whatever other kingdoms spare to give me. I'm sure you at least thrilled at least a handful of the new masters with bestowing them with 'royalty standard' property."

It was a silent reassurance, meant to comfort Sonic in the fact that his fate would not be so grim if things didn't work out. If the worst of it meant a new master, Sonic would probably belong to Shadow by default if Jet ever stopped showing interest in him.

But none of those pets had been years-long legends in the making, nor were any of them packed with so much personality and color as Sonic proved to be.

"If anything, I have more confidence than ever that you two won't bore of each other."

In the time Shadow was talking, Jet had gone ahead and began picking off his plate as he listened, but Sonic still had to wait for Shadow to take a piece off of his before he was allowed to touch his own.

Sonic tried to push down the uncertain twinge as Jet began to eat, going quiet upon a realization he hadn’t considered before. The idea that the Prince would grow bored of him hadn’t occurred to him, and it ideally would have been something he should hope for. And perhaps a few days ago, he would have hoped for exactly that. Instead, a weird anxiety stirred, knowing he’d be…disappointed.

After everything Jet had confessed to him the day before, it would have been very disappointing indeed if the prince decided that the Blue Phantom, declawed and dequilled and at least semi willing, was not all he’d hoped he would be. Sonic would have tried that approach if he could’ve ever stomached feigning total submissiveness, in hopes Jet would become bored by him. Now, the idea made him bounce his leg slightly, feeling restless. More than the sex, or the backwards privilege of being a pampered royal pet, Sonic liked Jet’s attention. He liked the competitive streak they shared, and he liked the fact that the Prince was absurd, and reckless, and headstrong.

Sonic reluctantly admitted that he liked that Jet liked him for how he was, rather than what he could be.

It was then his stomach complained, noisily, and he silently shot Shadow a look sideways, begging him to eat so he could follow. He was dangerously close to plucking from his own plate regardless, watching Jet eat with slight envy.

“I suppose I should be flattered?” Sonic ventured, tipping the goblet up to drink from it. “Or just grateful Your Highness is exceptionally eccentric?”

"Eccentric," Jet repeated the word, smiling as he set about plucking up a small orange and peeling it, dropping the skin against the patterned fancy plate. "That's a new one. I like that." Perhaps if he had just waited a moment longer Shadow would've properly taken the time to start polishing off his own meal, but the strange grumble from right beside him urged him to do one thing regardless of status or manners.

Instead of bringing the clementine slice up to his own mouth, Jet turned slightly and held it up to his pet's, prompting Sonic to eat off of his hand; his food.

"You don't gotta wait for Shads, he's been intermittently fasting longer than I've been in power."

It was a special kind of power trip, making both hedgehogs between him blush. How the edges of Sonic's muzzle flushed pink under peachy fur and his ears twitched, a visual cue of his brain processing the information and emotions that came with it. Shadow recovered quicker than Sonic however, finally grabbing one of the thick slices of oranges that were garnished on his plate.

"Apologies I'm not one for gluttony," he jabbed back at Jet before taking a bite to excuse himself from saying anything more.

"And you never involved yourself with lust before, but here you are." Jet gave him a questionable side eye as he plucked up another ripe slice for Sonic, holding the fruit back up for him to take. "Say, how was he when he took your virginity?"

"Jet—" Shadow choked, the acidity of the orange's juices burning the back of his throat when he failed to swallow. He couldn't even correct himself with usage of his title, reaching for his own drink to wash it all down and get his voice back. He should've known Jet would bring something up like that, he should've been prepared for it. Even with pleasure slaves it never involved himself in this context until now, and other than morbid curiosity he had no idea why he would even ask that.

Sonic’s mouth hung open, eyes rounding with surprise at the words. None too slowly, he felt heat suffuse all over his face, listening to Shadow nearly choke on his food.

“What—“

His eyes zeroed back in on the fruit held just in front of his lips. Feeding from the Prince’s hand…It could have been a show of submission. But as all things seemed to be between them— it was another exercise in daring. And so when Sonic leaned in to filch the bite from the Prince’s fingers, he did it with his eyes on Jet’s.

Chewing gave him the stall he needed to get over the initial shock of the question, and he could not imagine Jet was serious. And yet, he watched him back steadily, expectant.

“My Prince,” he said after swallowing, leaning back slightly to consider him with a bashful grin. “It’s not appropriate for a pet to kiss and tell.”

Now that he’d fed obediently from the hand, his gaze shifted down and he decided he’d earned himself a minor act of disobedience as he reached over to pilfer a slice of orange straight from Jet’s plate.

“I shouldn’t be surprised he told you I was a virgin.” What Sonic didn’t know — and Shadow and Jet had known very well — was that it was not protocol for a trainer to engage sexually directly with a slave, beyond perhaps the use of a hand every so often. Sonic hadn’t known how unusual his training was, not the full extent of it. And so it was inadvertently that he immediately sold Shadow out when he said, “Good enough to get away with it with all his limbs in place,” and he tossed the slice of orange into his mouth. “Why? Aren’t you familiar with how he is?”

Jet laughed at such a suggestion, letting Sonic steal whatever he'd like if he kept this up.

"Me and Shadow? Nooo." He shook his head, the usually broody hedgehog in question finally clearing his throat a bit too roughly. He didn't dare interrupt the prince, however, but his eyes said everything, including how dangerous that question was for Sonic to ask.

"My Prince, if I may—" Shadow tried, but Jet held up a hand to quiet him again, blue eyes still intently on Sonic.

"Nah," He shushed him effortlessly, focusing back on what he considered important. "You assumed a little much, there. I simply couldn't tell you. But I'm serious! I wanna know— between your first time with me and your first time with him, who would you rather repeat?"

Shadow resigned to rubbing the tension out from his temples, wishing he could be in disbelief but he could only chastise himself for not seeing this coming. Maybe eventually he would've been prepared for it, but not so soon. It was a huge oversight on his part. In reality, he hadn't even expected Jet to read through all his notes and reports on Sonic, but he was the Blue Phantom, and Jet had been mildly obsessed.

"I appreciate you looking out for decency, Sonic." Shadow groaned, grateful that Sonic at least was sparing details, if only for his own sake and not his master's. That was all but the wrong thing to say, however, Jet shook his head again.

"To hell with decency! It's just us, come on. We've both had a turn with you, I just want to know how I add up, one-to-one. You think I'd ask if I already knew for myself?"

Sonic’s eyes flickered between his prince and his trainer, sensing that he’d misstepped somewhere, heat growing as Jet wouldn’t stop pursuing the topic.

When Sonic considered such a question, and he did consider it, he was at a loss of what the truth was, and what was the right thing to say. Ideally, it was probably best to compliment the Prince, and appeal to his ego— massive enough for ten men as it was. But Sonic failed to come to any genuine conclusion at all to determine if he’d be lying or not.

Like he always did, he spoke his mind, regardless of potential consequence.

“How am I supposed to answer a question like that?” he asked, incredulously. “It’s a trick question. And besides, you two are nothing alike.” He waved his hand, averting his gaze, because Chaos this was weird to even be discussing. One on one was one thing, but like this?

Shadow couldn’t guide him in what to say in a weird situation such as this, not that Sonic had the foggiest clue what Shadow even would coach him to say.

It did still slightly please him to please Shadow, even if he inadvertently piqued Jet’s interest with his carelessness.

Flushing, facing both of them, he could never have imagined this situation for himself when stepping foot into the city those months ago.

Sonic weighed his options, and concluded that discretion was the better part of valor, and said, “I’m afraid that’s my answer. I can’t really judge something so…subjective. And, at any rate—“ He reached for his goblet, desperate for a distraction. “You two are my only points of reference. Who’s to say I even know what’s objectively good or not?”

It was a bone to throw as a distraction. He didn’t earnestly believe the words; even someone as woefully naive as him had known Shadow was beyond excellent at what he did. And even if Shadow had been underwhelming, Jet was certainly leagues above such a low bar himself. Sonic drained his goblet of water, a little nervously, wanting to shut himself up for once.

"You know because we are your points of reference." Jet said like it was obvious, clearly enjoying the back and forth he was having with Sonic rather than him just spitting out an answer for him to be okay with. It was exactly that kind of free thinking that kept Jet's interest pinned on him, even with a topic such as this. It was out of the box while neglecting to beat around the bush.

Yet he was so indecisive still. There had to be a ways of remedying that.

So the moment Sonic placed down his cup, Jet leaned in quick to kiss those still wet lips, indulging in a chaste yet lingering spur of the moment decision. He held Sonic's face in his hands to keep him from immediately pulling back, only letting him go when the surprise had melted away and Sonic considerably relaxed. And if that wasn't enough, instead of paying him mind Jet immediately turned to Shadow with a motion, beckoning him close.

"Now you," He implied, and Shadow blinked slowly.

"Is this really how you want him to compare us?" Shadow said at first, getting up from his seat as his prince had asked of him, coming around to Sonic's other side so now their pet was surrounded on both sides.

"Just kiss him," Jet commanded anyways, and what else was he to do but comply?

Instead of the sudden, excited kiss that Jet had given him, Shadow was much more thorough than the hawk was, two fingers sliding up the side of Sonic's jaw in contextual warning, making eye contact with Sonic for the brief moment before he closed the space between them, soft and tender and everything else that would sweep Sonic right off his feet.

He was pleased to end the kiss when Sonic was left breathless, a sharp smacking noise annunciating between their lips when they separated.

"Are you sure you want to ask him again for comparisons, my Prince?" Shadow practically rolled his eyes with nothing but his words, calm and collected as he usually was, maybe more so than before. Something about doting on Sonic, even if ordered to, had put him back in his masterful element rather than feeling like a half-rate babysitter.

Jet pouted, it growing on his nerves how Shadow dared upstage him.

"How am I supposed to compete with that?" He reached out to pull Sonic by his shoulders to face back towards him, the crook of his beak nudging against Sonic's muzzle before he brought himself in to kiss him again. Much more like Shadow's set example this time, slow yet with the same enthusiasm he held from last night. Jet's tongue peaked out to slide over Sonic's bottom lip, the faint taste of oranges rewarding his efforts.

When Shadow kissed him, it felt like it had been forever since he’d done so, though reasonably Sonic knew it had only been a few days at most, the last days having been focused primarily on etiquette than anything else. He melted against him with a yielding anticipation of pleasure, the same way he tensed with the anticipation of the unknown with Jet. It was whiplash when he was flipped around again and kissed by Jet a second time, his attempt to speak thwarted before he could get the first syllable out.

Sonic felt the tips of his ears burn with the weight of his trainer’s gaze on his back, making a soft sound of surprise as he brought his hands up to grip the Prince’s shoulders unsteadily. He moaned, quietly, the deft tongue working to open him up. He tasted the sugary concoction of sweetmeat and fruit of breakfast, heart beating a little faster when he realized he was being thrown out into entirely new waters. Being watched while doing this was not something he was used to, nor was it something he was ever convinced he’d become comfortable with.

But it was exhilarating knowing it was Shadow. Just as it had sent a little thrill through him to be kissed in front of the Prince, who just as surely had been watching. He couldn’t imagine Jet was intending to go further than this with company present, but when they parted, Jet had that newly familiar febrile glint in his blue eyes, making Sonic’s pulse kick up.

“P-pretty good,” he said, stupidly, brain still trying to catch up on what Jet’s goal here was. It couldn’t possibly be… Not in front of Shadow. “But you…both kiss differently. I like it.”

He couldn’t resist turning his head slightly to shoot Shadow a faintly pleading look, embarrassed and looking for help, though Jet was quick to bring his attention back to him. Nervousness and the thrill of something new created a confusing expectation in him, half of him balking at the idea of the Prince possibly wanting to do more with Shadow present, and the other half of him wondering how he would enjoy it.

"Yeah?" Jet murmured, taking the opportunity to nibble and lick up the crook of exposed skin of Sonic's neck that peaked right above his collar when he turned his head. He obviously didn't care for Shadow's presence or perhaps he wanted to purposefully make a scene out of it, most likely the second option. "Describe them. How do they feel?"

And while the collar around Sonic's neck was lovely and a prideful thing to look at and all, Jet really found it annoying to work around, unable to properly kiss and suck up the tender skin of his neck underneath the tough fabric. He could've ordered it for it to be taken off and replaced with an ear tag or something of the sorts, but he'd put up with it for now until Sonic himself warmed up to the idea of what the rest of his life would be like.

Shadow had leaned slightly back in his chair however, watching both of them intently. Much to Sonic's dismay, Shadow seemed perfectly content to observe from the sidelines, again a feeling of clinical or even educational motivation behind his stare versus something more loosely perverted. Even if he stepped in like those emerald eyes suggested he wanted him to, what was he to do if that was what the Prince wanted? And on top of that, it was Sonic's role to serve, to submit, with an audience of none or a dozen.

Actually, Shadow shoved down the weird pit of jealousy in his stomach to act a little bit devilish himself, deciding that if Jet was going to make him watch him pull at Sonic's strings, he'd at least be the one controlling the show from above. It was a complete betrayal when he spoke again, seeing the begging hope dissipate in Sonic's expression when he sold him out.

"You should try pulling at his quills, my Prince." Shadow suggested, far from innocent when Jet immediately grabbed at one of the blunted head quills and pulled Sonic's head further back. "You should've picked up from your one night together that he doesn't very much favor being treated like he could break. Quite the opposite, really, he usually gets very loud when he's pushed to the point of nearly shattering."

Jet pecked back up to capture Sonic's mouth with his own, breakfast on the table long forgotten and growing cold while the skin under his feathers fluttered and grew warm, breaking away with a gasp that left a momentary bridge of saliva connecting them both still. "Is that so?" He crooned, the way he looked at Sonic an obvious cue that his inquiry was for him to answer. But Sonic wasn't given the time to confirm or deny such things before Jet was dead set on throwing them all deeper into the weirdly lusty tension that was climbing rapidly in the room.

"I don't know, Shadow. He's not very loud right now," Jet said plainly, wicked ideas in his head brewing plenty instead of any and all work he might've had to do today— this was far more important to him now. "Care to give me an example? You know I'm a visual learner type."

Sonic had been unsure how exactly to answer Jet’s prompting question regarding the kiss, stumbling over words, before he’d nearly whipped his head around in disbelief at Shadow’s words. But not before Jet took Shadow up on his helpful suggestion, Sonic unable to help the yelp of surprise as his head was pulled back, the Prince able to feel the flexing tension in the spines.

A hard flush hit his muzzle, made worse after the messy kiss Jet subjected him to, and his sudden shortness of breath and slightly doe-eyed look said it all. Most importantly, noted by Shadow, was the lack of an immediate retaliation from the rebel pet, which had to be carefully trained out of him, that automated instinct that had him jerking an elbow or a knee in response to being surprised. Shadow endured some accidental hits here and there, but he was made of a lot tougher stuff than the Prince.

“You can’t be for real,” he said, flushing redder, a little mortified at his own reaction. It rankled slightly that Shadow’s assumptions about his openness to thrill were fairly accurate, because his heart was beating a little faster, blood pumping harder, and he hadn’t even really been touched yet.

It was so unlike the pets Jet had experimented with in the past, who were trained in an almost Pavlovian manner to respond to authority. Sonic was already the most impassioned slave he’d ever had, his own desires overriding all else, which would have been a killing blow to the longevity of his service to anyone but the Prince, whose own desires lined up attractively with his. And Shadow, well knowing as he was, facilitating this new and unexpected interaction, saw no real fight or flight in Sonic’s response to Jet’s handling.

Already, he was so on the edge— so much so that if Shadow touched him now, he was sure he would simply die. On principle, he wanted to act out against being made a spectacle of, and in part, his lack of polite manner or slave-like begging for his masters was his own form of disobedience, because outright fighting free wasn’t on his agenda. Not when Jet had done the one thing Sonic couldn’t resist; he’d thrown down a challenge.

And there was a look of daring now, his eyes saying, make me, when they turned back from the Prince to Shadow, his head craned back and peach chest moving with shallow breaths.

Even in the most ridiculous and wild of situations, Sonic still proved himself to be incredibly endearing in these kinds of moments. Considerably, without Jet's direct order he would've still had the urge to reward him with his touch like this, it just happened to work out that Jet wanted to see Sonic melt under Shadow's hands.

And he was nothing but a good man of the hawk's court, of course.

Pulling Sonic into another kiss, Shadow brushed his tongue slowly up against Sonic's own while his arms came out to drag him up from his seat and onto his own lap, tracing healed battle scars over his skin delicately with his fingertips as he stole his slave's breath away. One of his arms snaked around his lower back, black and blue fur meshing together as he waited for Sonic to grow impatient and begin to squirm around as he always did, teasing him with his own desires rather than with deliberate action.

On the other side of the chair, Jet was eager to watch Shadow ravish Sonic like how he had ravished him all of last night, this little peak into what their world was like without him for the past couple months incredibly erotic to experience first hand. Pleasure slaves were always no big deal to indulge with in public settings if the master was comfortable enough with the amount of privacy or lack of thereof. Even in his own court, it wasn't uncommon to see his courtesans and people enjoying the very servants Babylon was known to produce, but it had never gotten him any much more than lonely before.

Nevermind hot and bothered like this, his arousal growing from the soft noises of steady breaths, or lips meeting and parting. The occasional huff or sigh of relief Sonic released, or even Shadow's low toned purrs of enjoyment was getting to him under the collar.

"More," Jet ordered, "Touch him directly," His impatience showed as the feathers around his cloaca began to ruffle and dampen first, a small wet dot on the chair soaking through where he sat.

Shadow nodded in acknowledgement to the Prince's demands, though the next time he pulled away to let Sonic breathe he checked in on his wellbeing. Sonic didn't seem overwhelmed in a bad way, but it was a lot to ask this much, this early, so soon. Usually Shadow would take his sweet time pulling Sonic apart bit by bit, unraveling the tension in his body one string at a time before trying to press anything up against or into him. He wondered how quickly they had gotten to desperation yesterday, after he dropped Sonic off..?

"Sonic, my pet," Shadow brought them both back down to the room, hand travelling around his side and hip, twisting down and holding around his inner thigh while his thumb drifted back and forth close to where the limb connected to his pelvis. "May I?"

Chaos. The way Shadow kissed him always left him dizzy, warm and buzzed with arousal, and the way he talked to him in that voice…

My pet. Only some weeks ago, such words would have greatly annoyed him, offensively so. And maybe on principle it should have still— but by now he knew how Shadow meant them. Sonic was not merely a toy, or a thoughtless, warm thing to shove his cock into. When Shadow uttered the words, implying himself as Sonic’s master, it was a request of trust.

Sonic had half a mind to be embarrassed getting aroused in front of company, but that didn’t seem to matter. Not when now all he could think of was Shadow getting his hands on him again. And just maybe, he wanted to know how Jet would react, too.

Nodding with slight stupor, Sonic brought up his hands, now that he’d finally recovered from surprise. He fisted that fluffy thatch of fur he could abuse with less worry than Jet’s more delicate avian feathers. He angled one of his thighs outward, where Shadow was thumbing it gently, offering him access.

“Yeah,” he said, licking his lips, though the tips of his ears burned. “Yeah, touch me— please, Sir.”

The honorific was more for Shadow than for the Prince; though the slight twitch of his lips upward signaled the harmless mischief, the desire to see how Jet would react to his disobedient pet choosing to mind his manners for his trainer.

And true to his bold nature, Sonic leaned in to kiss Shadow of his own volition, making a soft sound of unrestrained delight as that hand moved, his small tail twitching helplessly from side to side.

"As you wish," Shadow briefly peeked over Sonic's shoulder to glance at Jet, his words applicable to both of them. Looking back at Sonic, he smirked before taking his arms up underneath Sonic's rear and hoisting him up effortlessly, carrying him over to the perfectly made bed they had only abandoned a few hours ago. There was plenty of hidden strength in that lithe frame, even if Sonic was a close match to his size he had lifted him up like he weighed only a feather's worth.

Jet was so on board with this, a third person view and a front row seat to see Shadow remind Sonic of his rightful place. Though he noticed that Sonic was being a lot less cocky than he was with him, properly addressing his master, for one— but Jet had told him to drop it when it could be just them. It could be just coincidence, but the way he said it felt deliberately showy.

So he was still being cocky. Just... subtly, this time. For now. Jet wondered if he had ever called Shadow a whore for enjoying him, but he was rapidly discovering that the two held an entirely different dynamic than what he found appealing in Sonic himself.

Which started when Shadow let Sonic fall from his hold and back onto the bed, taking care to not harshly knock the wind out of him but following his own words of not treating Sonic like glass. Immediately he was all up on him, kissing around his chest and down his sternum, idle hands making quick work of pulling up blue furred thighs over his shoulders as black and red quills moved downwards, lower than ever before. Shadow knelt on the floor by the edge of the mattress, pulling Sonic's hips close to his face while the rest of him was supported by the bed.

Quite unusual, but Shadow worked in uncommon specialties. If Jet hadn't known any better he could've easily imagined jewelry or even a circlet of Sonic's own resting upon his head, with Shadow being in the place of a silently alluring slave born to please his king's every desire. This was the way he planned to show Sonic off to him, not impressing him with skill or gifts but with the way Sonic was, putting him on display for Jet to consume, not to make a judgement of.

"Be a good boy and don't hold anything back." Shadow ordered, his breath hot over Sonic's sensitives to tease what was to come, and it came fast. The flat of his tongue running up from the base of the underside of his tail, over the unprepared hole and sliding past it entirely to lick over the swell of his pouch, the tip of his tongue flicking up over the top of the slit that held more inside. He immediately repeated the motion, feeling those legs lock behind his quills and drag him in closer.

The rebel hedgehog was the picture of blissful compliance, his role under the methodical, skilled hand of his trainer markedly different from with his daring Prince. Sonic’s slightly wide-eyed look of surprise was comical when he’d been effortlessly plucked up and carried — he always forgot how deceptively strong Shadow was, when he exercised it.

The familiar moniker of good boy was a little embarrassing to him now, feeling how heavy Jet’s eyes were on them, and he flushed. The picture Shadow made, actually on his knees for him, was strange and made him throb inside his pouch, sheath swelling already. He was used to Shadow using his mouth on him a few times before, but not physically lowering himself in this way, and not so quickly, either.

He let out a little ‘Ahh!’ of surprise, and he wasn’t so mild mannered for Shadow as to not raise his hips toward his mouth, resulting in two strong hands coming to hold them still against the bed.

“Shadow, oh Chaos,” he bit out, Jet’s order making Shadow far more direct, blasting past the teasing portion of his usual methods. That tongue teasing the hot, sensitive insides of his slit was unbearably good, throbbing before his cock even emerged. Fisting the elegantly silky sheets of the perfectly made bed, he twisted them to avoid snatching at Shadow’s ears like he wanted. Even after his training— he was still new to the world of carnality, and still had a touch of overripe sensitivity to him, every reaction earnest and strong and accompanied by a slightly frustrated embarrassment that couldn’t be coached. Whatever act Jet would expect from another slave, it wouldn’t be seen here.

Sonic still had the green excitement of an overeager young partner, like any number of colleagues Jet could have tumbled for a pleasurable few hours if he grew bored of lackluster pets. When that wonderfully thick, pink-tipped cock slid free against Shadow’s tongue, his tail wagged properly now, swishing indecently against the sheets with delight.

“Oh god,” he groaned, trying to arch again, stopped by Shadow’s controlled hold on him. “More, sir, please— in your mouth, I need it—“

"You'll take what I give you and nothing more," Shadow dragged his tongue up from the base to the tip, teasing the already leaking slit and lapping up the salty beads of pre that gathered there. "So greedy, so impatient... right in front of the Crown Prince, no less." Shadow kissed down the overeager shaft, feeling the edges of Sonic's hips press into his palms in desire. Holding him down against the bed only made it worse, spurring him on rather than submitting lifelessly to the sheets.

"What do you say, your highness?" Shadow didn't move his gaze off Sonic, yet he brought Jet into their scene as he pressed yet another kiss to Sonic's entrance, ignoring his cock entirely in favor of circling the rim of the hole with the tip of his tongue as if daring to dip inside any second. "Shall I reward his blunt shamelessness?"

Jet saw now, this was an entirely different side to Sonic than the supposed slave he had met before. Even while being so vastly different, Sonic's behavior didn't become any less genuine, merely reacting off the strong role having Shadow for a master led him with. And he had never seen Shadow so into something like this, his tone far more than educational or practical like he was used to hearing him. His voice was legitimately masterful, stern yet alluring, seriously immersing them both in his position of power.

So when the question had been directed at him, it had Jet a little flustered himself. He stood up from his chair before his legs grew too weak, walking over to the other side of the bed before climbing up on the mattress with Sonic to observe him where he lay. There was plenty of space still for him to watch, lying back on the magnificently carved headboard as he looked over Sonic's writhing body.

"Use your mouth, but not for what he asked." Jet's eyes were glued to the cock he had rode himself only a few times nearing the end of their night, watching it twitch with want. "I wanna see it drool, first."

Red eyes peered up between Sonic's legs in acknowledgement, Shadow's eyes fluttering shut before gathering what saliva he had in his mouth and using it to wet over Sonic's hole before properly pushing his tongue forward and repetitively licking over the flesh until he was dipping inside with each new lap. Shadow moaned lightly against him, hands holding Sonic still as ever as he continued relentlessly to Jet's wishes.

Sonic stared down, fully inflamed now and impatiently so, reacting to the presence of the Prince when he came to settle beside him. His eyes flickered from Shadow up to Jet, nervous and anticipating. And perhaps there was a wordless hope there too that Jet would find sympathy for him, order Shadow to use his mouth on his cock and relieve him— but that wasn’t what happened.

“That’s—“ he gasped, gripping the bedding with a whine, “—not fair.” And yet as badly as he wanted to reach down and touch himself, to relieve his cock, there was in this incredibly willful hedgehog an earnest desire to rise to the occasion. Perhaps if there were only one of them, and not two, he would have disobeyed and reached down. But with them both here, it made something in Sonic strive to please, to exercise a criminal amount of self control.

Sonic was not obedient the way a royal pleasure slave should be, but he was good in his own right, keeping his hands at bay, enduring the hotly humiliating experience of being made a spectacle for the first time. His every reaction was strong with the inexperience of what he was— a freshly caught, isolated rebel. And it was testament to Shadow’s impeccable skill with even the most willful and stubborn slave that Sonic was this compliant. Though without that little kernel of darkly lustful intent inside him, Shadow’s training would have meant nothing if this pursuit of pleasure didn’t exist within him.

Without the trust and the odd friendship he’d forged with him, no amount of conditioning would have saved either Sonic or Prince Jet. If not for Sonic’s utmost trust in Shadow’s judgement, it was most likely that one of them — either master or slave — would not have survived the first meeting.

When that deft tongue dipped inside the entrance to his body, Sonic keened wonderfully, and the hand nearest Jet shot out to grab at whatever he could reach— his arm, gripping the curve of his elbow. Blue thighs twitched and fell further apart, spreading. And his fingers curled around Jet’s arm, a silent begging.

“Shadow, he bit out, shuddering. Green eyes went a little unfocused as his lashes fluttered over them. His head flopped back, panting into the open air as he endured the most wonderful form of torment.

The sounds were obscene like no other, Shadow denying Sonic any type of rest as he continued working him open with nothing but his mouth. His hands ran up and down Sonic's thighs comfortingly, feeling the strong muscles underneath his touch tense and relax.

"He must really like you," Jet didn't notice the curious glance Shadow peaked at him through barely open eyes before returning to his task, "I don't think I've ever seen him so enthusiastic before."

Emphasizing his point, or maybe just to lash out at the remark, Shadow dropped his jaw a little wider and properly pushed the most of his tongue inside, the way Sonic's hand tightened around Jet's arm enough vengeance to sate him in the moment. Jet thought nothing of it as he pried Sonic's grip off of him, intertwining their fingers instead for him to squeeze.

"Look at him, he's being so generous to you." He motioned with his free hand down to Shadow's head between his legs, leaning over as he spoke to Sonic. "You wanna show him some gratitude?"

Pulling his mouth away from Sonic for a moment, Shadow's ears perked forward at those words.

"My Prince, I'm preparing him for you. I'm flattered, truly, however.."

"However what? It's your name he's calling, isn't it? Just look at him," Jet reached over to grab Sonic from under his arms, pulling him more centered on the bed and putting him perfectly on display for Shadow's eye level.

Even if this order wasn't exactly right, there was little he could do to deny his prince. If watching Sonic be ravished by someone else was in his desires, then Shadow was far off to even think about rejecting such an idea. Shadow rose off his knees to kneel up on the mattress with them instead, the sturdy bedframe hardly making much of a sound as it supported all three of their combined weights.

"...Then please, allow me to—" Shadow started, interrupted by Jet once more as the hawk crooned into Sonic's ear.

"You want him to fuck you, right?"

Shadow watched in silence as Jet pulled Sonic up to lean back between his legs properly, trademark mischief on his face as he spoke.

"Surely he taught you to ask for it, right? Go on, show me what you've learned. Ask him for what you really want."

Sonic looked slightly dazed to be pulled out of the moment, and into a new moment, green eyes shooting up to Jet. The way the Prince spoke of him, the way they were both speaking of him, almost like he wasn’t even there— it caused a new flush of emotion that was as humiliating as it was arousing. He let himself be pulled against Jet’s chest, giving him a wide eyed look when he was expected to now beg for what he wanted.

“You—“ he blurted, glancing between them, his chest still moving quickly from out breathless he felt, “You can’t be serious.”

Oh, but he knew he was. With a quiet groan, he settled back, unsure when teasing Shadow had somehow turned onto teasing him instead. The feeling of Jet’s feathers against his back was just foreign enough still to cause a little thrill at the strangeness of it, of him, when faced with the familiarity of Shadow between his legs. He could feel Shadow subtly trying to grapple for control, to make the sudden transition from slave in training to royal pet easier for Sonic. And Jet — that attractive, feathered bastard — wanting to tease instead.

“Do you want me to show you what I’ve learned, or show you what I want?” he dared, because they were certainly two different things, though he was needy enough for it to still sound halfway like a plea.

It felt perverse in a way Sonic had underestimated, leaned back against Jet while looking at another kneeling in front of him, knowing what was expected of him. But begging while he was still cognizant was still difficult for him to do, usually requiring quite a lot of teasing to get him to that point. But the unfamiliarity of this new position seemed to heighten everything, making him want with a near overwhelming urge to—

What, please? To be pleased? His cock was heavy and aching already, and he hadn’t even been allowed to touch himself. Not like before, when Jet had wanted to see him do it. The crooning voice in his ear, beckoning, was making him dangerously close to being as recklessly wanton as Jet wanted him to be. He reached up behind himself to clutch at Jet’s thighs, his flushed face on Shadow as he let his legs fall open one at a time so that he was spread out, giving the impression of succulent acquiescence. It was just that— an impression. The way he arched his body slightly, the presentation less practiced than it was mindless, shattered the image of broken pet. He decided to ask for what he wanted.

“Please,” he said, swallowing his pride, fingers digging into Jet’s thighs, “Just— fuck me, anything, I need someone to just touch—” He bit off his last words with a quiet whine, ears twitching back a little.

There was a small sound of a jar's lid being uncapped, perhaps unnoticeable to anyone else without such fast reflexes before Shadow was all up on him, coldly lubed fingers quickly making way between where his tongue had just been.

"So well behaved," Shadow commented in his own brand of teasing, slipping one, then testing two fingers inside Sonic already, pushing them in to the knuckle and feeling just how much give his body was willing to offer so soon. "Are you sure this is really the pet I've been training for months?" He leaned in and dragged one of those blue ears between his fangs, scratching the thin skin underneath and then licking over the spot with his tongue afterwards.

"Desperation is so good on him, isn't it?" Jet added from behind him, running his hands around his sides and toying with his chest in idle. One of those hands dared slide up even further to Sonic's neck, pulling his chin high as Jet's palm settled over his adam's apple and his fingertips rested on one side of his tendons. "I can feel how fast your heart's racing," He felt over the quickened pulse, a steady beat under his touch.

In a different context, Sonic's life might've actually been on the line. Caught between the crown prince and his right hand man, restrained with no where to run, no space to fight. Especially with Shadow so close to his front and Jet pressed up against his back, he was hopelessly sandwiched between them when it came to his survival, his wellbeing resting in the nimble wishes of Jet's hand at his vitals.

The baren instinct of fear flashing through those emerald eyes was all Shadow needed to see before he pushed his fingers up at an angle and curled them deep, knowing practically by heart where that one spot inside him lay. His other hand came to rest on top of one of Sonic's own on top of Jet's thigh, his thumb slowly rubbing over Sonic's in a soothing motion. It felt like it could've been contradictory, a silent comfort when he was nothing but prey here.

Trust in me. I will not let you fall.

Shadow nodded to Jet behind him, a curious motion before he closed the gap between him and his pet, softly taking Sonic's lips with his own and kissing him tenderly as he drew his hand back out of him.

And when those fingers sank back inside to curl back up at his prostate again, Jet's hand tightened around his throat and closed his windpipe for a few moments before releasing the grip to allow Sonic to breathe again, Shadow's fingers pulling back out as he did so. It was a merciless repeat of just that, Shadow eventually fitting three fingers inside instead of two, with Jet testing different levels of strength to hold Sonic down with.

Sonic felt like he was being tossed into deep waters, but in the best of ways. He was restless, the low sound he made when fingers curled against his sweet spot was all animal, a guttural whine. That eager tail was twitching again, hole flexing happily around the intrusion.

The hand at his throat made his already rapid pulse spike even faster, sucking in a breath before the hand squeezed gently, pressing down just enough to deny him, but not to hurt. His eyes snapped open and shot up to Jet, uncertainty and the instinct to pull away evident there, particularly by the tension that hit his body like a strung bow on the cusp of snapping.

But stopping his natural reactive urge to kick out was the knowledge that had Jet truly wanted to hurt him, he could’ve done it last night. He could have ordered guards in the room, or even to have Shadow restrain his energy again to make him helpless. But the way his fingers relaxed, let him breathe, and tightened again in a rhythm, Sonic was sure Jet had been anticipating the effect on his arousal it had. The danger shouldn’t have been so attractive, but it was.

“Fuck,” he rasped when he was allowed breath again, his voice rougher than it had ever been, his jaw tightening and eyes rolling a little in pleasure when that hand descended again. This time, he tipped his head back, offering his throat in an impossible display of unabashed want. It was impossible before one considered Sonic’s love of thrill, and his security in knowing his life wasn’t truly on the line. The pronounced tendons of his throat flexed and his Adam’s apple bobbed, throwing his hips up in delight as three fingers tortured him wonderfully, the muted moan of breathless pleasure felt by Jet’s hand.

One on one, he’d never been so thoroughly dominated like this. The way his coat began to get patchy with sweat, the brilliant flush from his ears to his chest, the way drool slipped perversely down the corner of his mouth— and he hadn’t even been fucked yet.

Gasping slightly for air again, Sonic’s words came out in a rush. He’d been trying to warn them earlier, but his throat had been squeezed and unable to relay his desperate message.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry—!”

He couldn’t even say what he was apologizing for, because it was already happening. Hot, strident cum shot out from his completely neglected prick, squeezing his eyes shut in mortified pleasure at coming so quickly. The stretch of just three fingers alone and the incredible thrill of the Prince at his front, touching is chest, squeezing his throat— all of it too much. He thrashed briefly in their hold, not the first time he’d cum too soon, but certainly coming as a surprise when it had been a question of him even enjoying being toyed with this way.

Sonic’s chest heaved, eyes refusing to open, embarrassed. He knew he would remain hard still, and he certainly did, cock throbbing with the last of his orgasm, but not flagging at all.

“Sh-shit,” he whispered, a little overwhelmed, slowly unclenching the vice grip he’d had on Jet’s thighs, enough to cause bruising. “Sorry, I…fuck.”

A little tit for tat, the possible strained marks on his thighs reflected the blooming marks on Sonic's neck where his hand had squeezed over the collar and skin, though if the consequence of bringing his slave to overwhelming pleasure like that was a bit of soreness in his legs, he'd enjoy it all.

"Sorry for what? Being so unreasonably attractive when you cum?" Jet kissed down the side of his head, watching while Shadow slowly removed his fingers and gathered some of the cooling release on Sonic's stomach to web it testingly between his fingers.

"I believe we'll have to see just how effective restricting your breathing is on you alone later, if you're that into it. Does that mean you'd like other kinds of restraints while being pleasured, too?" Shadow's words were very detached, but the feeling behind them meant everything. That he wasn't all in it to just write down data to turn in on him, but that there was something in it for him to propose such an idea. That he would like to see Sonic lose control of himself over and over again until he could exploit the slightest pinprick that would get him struggling under his grasp just like he had now.

"But for now.." Shadow pecked Sonic's cheek before analyzing how he was going to do this. He sat back briefly before pulling Sonic up with him, off Jet's lap and easily turning him around, leading Sonic by his hips and everything else following his lead.

"Allow me to give you a better view of him like this, my Prince."

Sonic was guided onto all fours, Shadow's strong hands holding him by the crook of his hips in preparations to be mounted. The chest Jet once played with was pushed low to the bed, Sonic's eye level perfectly lined up with the hawk's spread legs, watching his Prince in turn become more and more aroused by the show put on right in front of him. The cloaca was ruffled and wet already, the tip of his prick barely peeking out in his hardly concealed excitement.

Sonic's newly appointed job would be to have to watch, every twitch and leak Jet made in response to him visually while Shadow took him from behind.

One of Shadow's thumbs pinned Sonic's tail up and out of the way, lining their bodies up and rutting his swelling sheath against his prepared hole. Like this, given enough time and tease he would most likely slide right out of his pouch and into Sonic effortlessly.

The idea of being restrained fully wasn’t one Sonic knew for sure he’d be comfortable with, and yet the idea was planted in his mind, intriguing and causing a hot flush of desire to saturate his limbs. But he was too overwhelmed to seriously answer, no time to consider it before he was being moved. Sonic let Shadow maneuver him, slightly jelly-limbed and tightly strung all at once, offering no resistance in his afterglow, letting Shadow gently push his chest down against the sheets and staying there, tail twitching a time or two under Shadow’s hand.

He moaned softly into the sheets at the feeling of Shadow rutting against him, flushed and huffing hotly just thinking of the image Shadow was probably making for Jet. How debauched both of them must have looked. Sliding his eyes open, his gaze zeroed in between the Prince’s thighs, ears twitching forward with interest at what he saw there.

Truthfully, yesterday’s introductions had been such a whirlwind. They’d barely taken time, with Sonic primarily taking his cock, except for the time he’d sucked Jet off, and the one time Jet had ridden him, a first for Sonic. He was faced now with the unfamiliar anatomy he hadn’t gotten acquainted with before. It was probably wildly indecent to just…stare, but what else could he do? That little opening was unlike anything he’d ever seen before, and he slightly regretted bypassing it last night to deal with what he was more familiar with.

Sonic had assumed the Prince to not want it touched, the lack of all direct order to do so seemingly cementing this, but clearly it was as capable of arousal as his cock was, which emerged inch by inch. He recalled that singular time Jet had forced himself on top and sank down over him, engulfing and hot… by then, Sonic had been so overstimulated, so far beyond cognizant thought from an entire day of having orgasm after orgasm fucked out of him, he had only registered the shocking sensation of something new. And yet Jet had still held his control, setting the pace, riding him hard. And now, sitting back, Sonic could act if he wanted, still somewhat level headed as he was.

And perhaps he communicated this silently up at Jet when green eyes met icy blue, even as he rocked his hips back to meet Shadow, panting openly at the feeling of that familiar cock slipping free of Shadow’s pouch, sliding against his tailhole. Sonic pulled himself slightly forward, not to escape Shadow’s attentions, but to bring his own toward Jet. He decided his boldness had rewarded him so far— so why not?

Keeping his succulent, open presentation for the hedgehog behind him, Sonic reached forward to slip his arms around Jet’s thighs, his breaths heavy and excited the nearer he drew himself toward Jet’s body. He went for the pink cock first, curved and smooth and as attractively proportioned as the rest of the hawk. If Jet wanted to make him fall apart, Sonic could do the same.

He gave the prick only token attention, however, his real target something completely new— and his breath ghosted hot and heavy across the flushed, wet cloaca before that clever pink tongue darted out and tasted him for the first time.

Jet's eyes widened in surprise at Sonic's forwardness, though by now he should've known to expect the unexpected from him. His entire shtick was based on how much he differed from your average slave, and with himself being so exposed so nearby... he cooed encouragingly, his face openly showing just how subdued Sonic had him like this.

His cloaca had never really been explored much, before. Unless he was particularly excited or loosened up it was normally far too taut and tense to really fit anything in there, no matter how deep an itch he craved to scratch. Last night he had ended on riding Sonic for a reason, as much of on an whim it was. It leaked his own natural lubricant, the more excited he was the more would flow unrestricted as the muscles inside produced and loosened the thick slick down and out of him.

But now Sonic seemed intent on throwing himself literally headfirst into Jet's unique equipment, his tongue feeling like living heaven striking up into him and over his folds.

"Holy fuck," Jet wretched, slightly sliding down more onto his lower back and raising his hips eagerly towards that mouth. He was very on board with this, soaking the entire lewd situation in above him, and if Sonic continued, he would certainly quickly soak through the sheets he lay on below him.

Shadow only took this opportunity in stride to make a scandalously teachable moment out of it, one of his hands coming to strike down on the side of Sonic's flanks before gripping the flesh and pulling him open, his cock sliding under his twitching tail perfectly.

"Language," Shadow chastised him, "Such vocabulary is unbecoming of someone to be respected... how dare you." If only he had known how Sonic had openly called the Prince a whore when it was just them. Obviously he wasn't going to truly stop it, enough of this situation already more improper than a sentencing could count. No, instead this would be rather interesting for how it worked out...

Pushing his hips forward finally, Shadow gasped as he sunk into Sonic, hot and pliable around him as he took him to the root and ground a little bit further in after that, relishing the feeling of those insides tensing around him. And as expected, the shove into Sonic's body had pushed him a little forward in a domino-like effect, nudging his face a little harder between Jet's legs as he was forced to move with Shadow's tempo or be jerked around as a result.

Which made a lovely introduction for Jet's experience with this type of oral, not only on the receiving end but with something licking and sucking up at the pulsing cloaca right under where his prick protruded out. Something small and hot pushing inside him like a glowing ember trying to spark up inside him for something more.

"F-fuck, it feels so good.." Jet pressed himself back on Sonic's tongue whenever it rhythmically came to lap up at him, in time with the mild sound of Shadow's thrusts. He could feel himself opening up and gushing, wetting Sonic's chin with bridging strands of clear fluid whenever Shadow dragged him away again.

Sonic had been uncertain how good of an idea it would be to dive into a new act he was entirely inexperienced to. It wasn’t like sucking a cock, and yet his gamble seemed to pay off by how wonderfully, desperately the Prince seemed to want more. He tasted experimentally at first, almost shyly, unsure if he’d even enjoy it. But Jet’s slightly acidic, musky taste was addicting in a way he wondered was normal for other pleasure slaves, or if it was just his own proclivities at work. Similarly to trying cocksucking the first time, it was surprisingly good.

Enjoying the experience so much, he let his tongue unfurl and dip inside, mirroring Shadow’s treatment from before, every so often raising his head to lick up the growing length of his prick before returning back down. Jet was a sopping mess of stuff Sonic had never enjoyed before, but he was newly determined to make his Prince cum like this.

Deceptively strong arms tightened around Jet’s thighs so that he wouldn’t be jostled too much out of place, though Shadow’s rhythm had him pushing slightly into Jet each time. He was totally obliterated by the combination of sensations, never before experiencing taking and giving at the same time. Every shameless moan was muffled right up against that hungry little opening, moments where Shadow moved a certain way that forced the hedgehog to pull back and pant hard, catching his breath.

“Th-there, shit!” he cried out, jerking back, ears folding back and pushing his hips against Shadow when the other struck his prostate, pleasure like liquid honey seeping in every limb. His fingers tightened around Jet’s thighs, trimmed claws digging in slightly, and though from this position Shadow couldn’t see his face, there was no way to hide the expression from Jet. He felt so perverse, needy and begging wordlessly for more by the way his thighs spread slightly further and an impertinent blue tail wagged.

But Sonic was beyond self consciousness. This time, he stroked the Prince’s cock when he lowered his mouth to his cloaca again, eating him out with all the inexperienced vigor of a natural learner, impassioned and artlessly enthusiastic in a way that could be trained into a slave.

Perhaps his expression was hidden away from Shadow, but the wanton need on Sonic's face was just as easily reflected on Jet's own, both of them getting lost to the mindless feeling of heat and sex. Even like this, Shadow could see just how they were both so similar in approach, impatient and needy for more, more, more.

A wicked idea bloomed in his head as he mimicked that wonderful angle Sonic had begged him for, sliding in deep and grinding little circles into Sonic as if to help widen him out from the inside. At the same time his hand came up to filter through the slow-growing quills he had blunted what felt like so long ago, still harmless under his hold as he pushed Sonic's head down back between Jet's legs and held him there mercilessly.

Whereas Sonic's muzzle was muffled, Jet was free to voice anything he wanted. Including the resulting scream that ripped from him when there was no break, his cloaca tensing dangerously around the tongue that had no where else to go but inside him.

"Yes, yes...! More, deeper—" Jet whimpered when Shadow pulled Sonic's head back by force, making his back arch into a pretty 'c' curve while lodged between them. It allowed the blue hedgehog a moment to breathe, to try and catch whatever bearings he could while his trainer tugged at his quills.

"Well? You heard him. Don't keep your master waiting." Shadow cursed lowly to hide his own strained pleasure, trying to remain in control for the three of them but his cock couldn't lie, a moan slipping from his usually sealed lips as he felt himself pulse and twitch inside Sonic. Before anything could be used to distract him though, he pushed Sonic's head back down to continue servicing his prince, slowly releasing the hold on his quills to go back to setting a steady pace for them both. "Go deeper." He ordered Sonic to fulfill Jet's pleas, though no matter what he did Jet looked like he was on cloud nine.

"G-god, I've never— mmn, it's never—" Jet stuttered, tripping over his words as his breathing escalated suddenly, "I think I'm gonna cum again, it's so weird, but don't stop, it's— haah!" Sonic should've been more than familiar with the way he was winding up on the verge of release, uncalled orgasm retching out of his body like usual.

The new feeling was that it was sided with a flood of liquid rushing out of that tried little hole, not as viscous as what his cloaca normally produced but far more thinned and runny. It escaped him in repeating mild pulses, warm wetness trickling down Sonic's muzzle where his mouth overflowed or didn't quite catch.

"I'm sorry," Jet was flushed redder than ever before, his hands clasping over his beak as he trembled. His dick was painfully sensitive now, neglecting to release on its own while everything else found climax. "I've never... wow,"

Even when being smothered, or maybe even because of it, Sonic’s tail moved faster, his moans heightened against Jet as Shadow moved deeper in his body. The tips of his ears burned hotly, the new desperation to Jet’s voice spurring him on further to go deeper and lick up as much of his slick as he could keep up with.

At least, until shocking wetness hit him suddenly, causing his head to jerk back, reflexively squeezing his eyes shut when— stuff squirted into his face. Ears twitching, Sonic swiped a hand over his face, struggling to comprehend what was going on when he was so thoroughly overwhelmed by the perfect stretch of Shadow inside him. When it became clear that Jet had cum somehow, Sonic shuddered at the first moment of true embarrassment that seemed to bloom onto the Prince’s brilliantly flushed face. And was he apologizing?

“Sorry for what—” he gasped out, but bit off whatever he was going to say when he dropped his forehead against Jet’s thigh and tried to muffle his cry, feeling more thoroughly debauched than he could recall ever feeling before, his scream half aborted through clenched teeth as he came messily into the sheets. His hips jerked as Shadow worked his sweet spot without relief, aware that he was covered in the Prince’s release, as he rocked helplessly and flagged his tail in approval, thighs sliding further apart. Sonic let Shadow bear the burden of holding his lower half up when his limbs became temporarily useless as orgasm rolled over him.

“Sir, fuck—!”

This time, rather than clutch the hawk’s thighs with brushing force, he gripped the sheets on either side of Jet’s hips until he could focus again. Green eyes blinked blearily as his cock twitched still, not quite done.

“Don’t stop,” he begged, openly now, reaching back to clutch at Shadow’s thigh with one hand, the other arm still shoved under Jet’s thigh. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” The barely restrained pleasure of the dark hedgehog was always something he sought after, enjoying the fleeting moments he relinquished control to simply let himself feel.

Seeing that Jet’s cock was still hard, he took it upon himself to bring it into his mouth fully this time.

Cracks began to show in Shadow's carefully crafted image of control, not immune to the lust swirling heavy in the air all around them, especially when Sonic's voice reached that kind of desperation where he was past the rebellious outer shell. The way he trusted Shadow entirely with his body, given that he could wipe anything else but overwhelming arousal and release away. He felt it in his weight going slack as there was nothing else but to succumb to what Shadow gave him, and that stoked an even brighter passion in him better than how his insides pressed up against his cock.

He'd like to hear his name called in that tone, devoted and unstable with need, to draw Sonic closer and quite literally fuck it out of him. That alone would've excited him enough to push him over his own edge. But unfortunately, Sonic had gone back to servicing Jet in front of him. Dare he had done too good a job with his training..?

Instead he settled to throw Sonic into slow, sweet overstimulation, dragging in and out of him with special attention to that one spot that his body flexed around him and then got a little heavier in his hold immediately after when he pulled back while Sonic seemed to milk Jet for all he was worth. It was such a weird sense of pride, seeing Sonic's oral skill pay off in real time.

Shadow rewarded him by finally filling him up, pulling Sonic's tail close to him as he keeled over his back and bit into his pet's shoulder, his own muted noise hard to hear over Jet's whines and whimpers but close enough for Sonic to pick up on if he was coherent enough to register the vibration of Shadow moaning into his flesh.

It was wet, salty with a slight tang, no doubt what Jet had let seep into and on Sonic's fur. He licked the spot clean.

At the same time, Sonic was getting a proper mouthful of the stuff, it not taking very long at all for Jet to be coaxed into another proper orgasm with that talented tongue brushing up against him.

Sonic tried to moan Shadow’s name, but could only do so muffled around Jet’s cock in his mouth. The tug at his tail as Shadow came in him was nearly in time with Jet coming down his throat, squeezing Shadow and Jet’s thighs at the same time, trimmed claws digging in.

Pulling back to breathe, cum dripped down his open mouth as another spurt landed before he could swallow, gasping out Jet’s name, and then breathlessly, Shadow’s as he registered the bite to his shoulder and the tongue soothing over that tender spot.

It felt like they went on forever, his own body lax, but rhythmically tensed, coaxing as much out of Shadow as he could offer. His own cock ached tenderly, still willing to give, as high strung as the rest of him.

“More,” he moaned helplessly against the sheets, turning his head so that his cheek was pressed down and he could see Shadow behind him in his peripheral. Even though they’d both cum, had outlasted him through two orgasms, he felt on the edge of one more. With a shamelessness he’d be humiliated by in his right mind, Sonic tried to thrust, rocking his hips to try and rub his prick against the sheets, seeking just that last tiny bit of stimulation needed. “Please, just one more, I can do one more—“

It wasn’t the place of a slave to beg for his own pleasure once his master was sated, but it wasn’t something these two would punish him for, either. He did so, bringing his hands up to grip the sheets by his head, still compliant to the unspoken rule to not bring himself off with his hand, thrusting again into the bed. He couldn’t remember begging like this before, so brazenly, and wondered if something was wrong with him to feel even more desperately flushed with the presence of the Prince who had encouraged Shadow to take him like this.

Sonic watched the other hedgehog from the corner of his eye, remaining with his chest down, still obeying Shadow’s command to lie down, even as he recklessly chased pleasure for himself.

Jet looked up at Shadow, both silently deciding what to do with Sonic between them, the sounds of their laboured breathing mixed in with his needy whimpers and moans. Naturally, Jet made the executive decision by tucking his hands under his legs, spreading himself even farther to show that slick coated cloaca on display, tired cock in the afterglow of release resting on top of it all.

"C'mon, give it to him for me." A quiet request, the lax hole Sonic had softened up with his tongue gathering a heavy drop of cum before it slid down to his tailfeathers.

Shadow nodded and complied, releasing Sonic's shoulder from his jaw and moving to sit back up, his hands wandering from Sonic's hips to his chest to pull the other hedgehog back up with him so they were both kneeling in front of Jet.

"He's made such a mess out of you, look at yourself— I can taste him on you." Shadow licked over Sonic's cheek, more of that salty acidity gathering on his tongue as he did so. He carefully slipped out of him at the same time, one hand going down to help ease himself out with unfairly controlled precision, letting gravity take care of the rest as hot cum streamed down Sonic's thighs with nothing to hold it back any more.

Shadow used his palm to scoop some of his own release up, then slid his messy grip over Sonic's cock, holding it but refusing to move his hand for him.

"Another one. How greedy of you, Sonic. You're in the presence of your masters, coated from the inside and out. The least you could do is return the favor."

Sonic’s whole body was taut as Shadow pulled free and maneuvered him, biting off a quiet whine of approval when his hand came down to grip his cock. Kneeling in front of the Prince now, sated and reveling in his own afterglow, Sonic was helpless but to look anywhere else as Shadow guided him.

Automatically his hips bucked, seeking out that friction that Shadow was forcing him to chase rather than relieve him by his own hand. One hand reached back to grip Shadow by the hip, steadying himself, feeling the urge to fall forward into Jet and resisting doing so. His cock throbbed like nothing he’d experienced before, aching and sensitive to the touch and just needing that last little bit before he could allow himself relief.

Shadow’s words caused hot, flustered need to saturate all over, his face exhaustedly flushed and it hit him— masters. Plural. The idea that these two could simultaneously own him, fuck him, give him this kind of pleasure was not one that had seriously occurred until that very moment. It should have been twice as infuriating, and instead made his knees go soft with the immediate yearning to stir such want in both these men for him.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, shakily, bracing himself as he rocked his hips. “Fuck, yes, please—“

Most tempting of all was how Jet had spread his thighs again, presenting that little cloaca as if to offer it up for Sonic’s cock. That thought was so stunning that temporarily he could think of nothing else. When Jet had ridden him last night, it had been quick and dirty and both of them already out of their minds with nearly-sated lust. Sonic had never been on top of anyone in his life, but suddenly he wanted nothing more.

He fucked Shadow’s fist in a whimpering, jerking rhythm, his eyes flickering between watching Jet’s face and watching him down below, pretending Shadow’s tight fist was the entrance to Jet’s body instead, wanting so badly to take blissful revenge on the Prince for all the pleasure he’d tortured Sonic with. The thought of fucking the Prince into proper submission made him want to pull free of Shadow and sink down into him anyway, but he wouldn’t last a second if he tried, already reaching his peak.

“More, more,” he cried, feeling the edge of orgasm rolling more slowly over him this time, drawn out, set by his own pace with which he bucked against Shadow’s fist. He wanted cum inside, but was held back, raking his nails across Shadow’s hip as he came, nearly tugging the other hedgehog along with him from the force of his final thrust longingly toward Jet’s body. Sonic hissed, ears pinning as he did as he was bid, coating Jet’s waiting hole, fluttering around the fluid that landed there.

“Oh god— Jet! F-fuck!”

Shadow had to hold him up now, less he fall in blissful, boneless exhaustion on top of the hawk, everything trembling as tension crested and then fell, body going slack and wonderful.

Jet seemed to be on very much the same page as Sonic above him, a pleased clicking noise stemming from the back of his throat when he put on such a pretty show, his mind stuck on thinking about those bucking hips fucking into him instead of the air or even Shadow's hand around him. Greed mixed with lust overwhelmed him when Sonic finally had gotten what he'd asked for, and immediately Jet reached down between them to gather the lot of it on his fingers.

He wasn't even sure that Sonic was watching him in his post-orgasm daze before pushing the cum that had settled onto his feathers actually inside with his fingers, drunk on the sticky-sweet feeling it gave him. The way that he had screamed his name had been enough reason to want the brief feeling of aftermath like they had gone all the way. Though they could save that for a proper night of fornication, surely, rather than a spur of the moment orgy...

"So?" Jet sighed contentedly in his exhaustion, his body slowing to a stop finally and enjoying the feeling of doing nothing after so much exertion. "Who's better?"

Shadow groaned as he pulled Sonic off of Jet's chest and more onto his side, spooning him as they all caught their breath.

"You cannot be serious. Are you still thinking about that?" He supposed that's why all this started and that's how they ended up like this, unprofessional as it was all stemming from one inappropriate suggestion, but. "Not to begin anything new, but I was the only one who went inside—"

"Yeah, yeah, but he was screaming my name, and I've never cum like that before," Jet rolled onto his side to snuggle closer to Sonic, pecking over his lips in a blink as he spoke to him directly rather than over him. "You're so amazing...you wanna go for another?" Now that he had a moment to collect his bearings, Jet was ready to take it all for himself. They could go all day at that rate just like their first meeting, and there was such a bad itch ebbing inside him to have that cock inside him the next time Sonic came. And he spoke just as shameless as he felt, desires running high as he snuggled close. "I wanna feel it shoot inside me."

"As lovely as that is, your Highness," Shadow was back to using his proper language, despite the desire need of a bath they all were. "We have things to do today, and I don't believe I've ever coached him on the other side of the bedroom."

Sonic was silently grateful for Shadow’s intervention, even if his body tried valiantly to rouse again at the Prince’s enticing suggestion. Jet wanted him to fuck him.

Jet wanted him to fuck him. It was enough to cause a new burn across his cheeks, burying his face into the bedding as he helplessly purred, the clicking sound a little rough, almost a growl if one didn’t know better.

“I can’t move,” he said, blissfully, which was the truth. His own natural stamina spoke on its own, but he wasn’t yet experienced in the kind of marathon sex Jet wanted a repeat of, and striving to do such two days in a row wasn’t possible.

Not yet, anyway. That thought snagged and caught in Sonic’s mind.

He came to a similar conclusion as before; that measuring a ‘better’ between two such as Shadow and Jet was not only impossible, but rather pointless. His ears twitched lazily as the other two spoke above him, more than happy for once to let himself sink down and let Shadow do all his talking for him, just so he could take a nap, letting his eyes slip shut. His mouth quirked into a small grin, enjoying Jet’s little streak of competitiveness that had him challenging Shadow on such an obsolete scale.

Coaching him…what would that entail? Sonic rolled so that he could sit up, doing so gingerly, and could feel all over him the physical evidence of Shadow’s crude words. Coated from the inside out. That much was true; he reached up to swipe at the slowly drying stickiness along his face, but cleaning it all with nothing more than his hand or the edge of a blanket was impossible, not to mention the cum leaking from him. It appeared despite Shadow’s reserved exterior that Jet could inspire some daring effect in Shadow, who typically didn’t cum inside to make cleanup easier. Except from time to time, such as now.

“You might have to carry me to the washroom,” he said to neither of them in particular, flopping back again, letting his arms fall beside his head, exhausted. His body was used to strain, just not of this variety, and it protested despite the desire in Sonic to fulfill what Jet wanted. And by now, his prick had retreated back into his sheath. Ruffled fur glinted slightly with sweat, sticking up in odd places where it was carelessly disturbed. “Or leave me here to pass out, maybe.”

Jet pouted, denied his request but at the cost of succumbing to the physical exhaustion that came with coming down from the high of arousal. The adrenaline in his veins was coming down, instead of pumping back up for another round and the feeling of satisfaction was starting to sink in as he made no effort to move or help Shadow with cleaning up.

"Would you get in the mood again if I brought you into the bath with me?" He teased one more time, but the smirk on his beak dropped when he saw Shadow shaking his head behind Sonic. "Oh, wait, that's right, you don't like baths."

"Not to be confused with the idea he doesn't like getting clean," Shadow vouched for Sonic before he could speak, maybe a soft urge to protect not just his own pride but Sonic's as well, since it reflected them both. The darker hedgehog sat up from his edge of the bed, sliding off the mattress to walk over to a simple water basin from their table before and soaking a nearby cloth in it.

It was more obvious on his jet black coat, the drips of drying white clumping onto the sleek fur of his thighs prominent and telling of all. But instead of wiping himself off first, surprisingly, he came over back to the bed to start gently cleaning the mess underneath Sonic's tail and between his thighs with careful, precise swipes of the wet towel.

"Maybe you would benefit from a proper bath after all, with how much fluid you managed to get in your fur." He crouched over him, noticing the ways the little tufts around the sides of his muzzle dried sticking up and crusted in every which way.

"My bad," Jet laughed, holding his open hand up as if to admit proud self-blame. "I... hooof, didn't know what I was capable of, clearly. What was that?"

"Nothing abnormal," Shadow shrugged, bringing a clean bit of the towel in his hand towards Sonic's face. "Just a different type of release, considering how he was stimulating you." Yeah. There was far too much of whatever in Sonic's fur to just wipe it off and call it done with. He tried his best anyways, since Sonic seemed to be enjoying the attention.

Rather than head for another cloth, once Jet willed himself up he left Sonic with one last kiss to those salt-stained lips, grinning at Shadow approvingly before he jumped off the bed and stretched with a sated groan. After something like this he'd rather just let hot water run everything out of his feathers, and he nodded towards the entrance to the bathroom expectantly.

"Well? Work is just gonna have to wait for today until we're clean enough to be presentable for it, right? Come on!"

Shadow rolled his eyes at just how spontaneously childish the prince could be, setting the towel down in favor of hoisting Sonic up in his arms bridal style to follow Jet into the bathroom. He supposed he had a point, anyways, and working late nights was nothing new to him if it meant Sonic had done his job accordingly.

"...Yes, coming, your Highness."

Chapter Text

It was, to Sonic’s surprise, actually a bit more relaxed after his introduction to the Prince whereas he’d expected controlled chaos.

On one hand, the palace was considerably more hectic than the boring peace of the dungeons below. It was constantly bustling with activity, even when there was nothing going on— which there almost always was something going on. The concept of privacy was evidently not applicable to servants or slaves, who were too low in status to be considered intrusive as they flitted about their days, fulfilling every duty imaginable. Sonic bounced between two primary chambers; the unused sleeping chambers of Shadow, or a pet suite that was connected to the Prince’s private quarters. He was of course its only inhabitant, unless Jet — or occasionally Shadow — joined him. Servants did everything, from fluffing the cushions of his sleeping palette, to bringing him food or snacks or anything he requested, refilling the water basin, to even attempting to groom him in the mornings.

While not the worst of his treatment by far, it unnerved him to be treated like a trinket of the Prince’s, and resisted the grooming, to the point where mild mannered slaves were forced, embarrassed, to tell Shadow that he wouldn’t sit still for them when he asked by Sonic looked as unkempt as if he’d just rolled out of bed. He had done just that.

The lecturing didn’t stop, even if he didn’t live in the dungeons anymore. There was always some new rule Sonic was breaking, some idiotic slave etiquette he’d yet to master, or frankly ridiculous procedures he was expected to sit through. Such as the grooming. Or, even worse, was when they’d tried helpfully to prepare his bath, and were tasked then with catching their runaway charge before the Prince could be told of a blue hedgehog bolting down the corridor.

It wasn’t the worst transition, but it had its ups and downs.

Truthfully, he was bored more times than not. Sonic had expected the Prince on him nearly every hour of the day, with how insatiable he was, but reality was a lot less exciting. Over the week or so that had passed, Jet really only had time to spare early in the morning, or very late at night. Even his lunches were filled with political meetings or the constant to and fro of every imaginable type of guest who either had a bone to pick with the Prince, or were seeking some kind of favor. Sonic had become very well acquainted with his new living space in that time.

Most unbelievable was the day, seeing his charge bored half to death, Shadow acquired permission for Sonic to explore the palace freely— wherever a slave of his status was permitted. Though Shadow had spared a lazy afternoon touring the maze-like palace with him, it was the equally bizarre reality that Sonic was not Shadow’s only obligation, and had to return to normal work now that he wasn’t training Sonic nearly every hour of the day. Shadow still never slept, or so it seemed to Sonic, so that was at least unchanged.

It was one of these lazy afternoons Sonic was wandering. Usually, half the palace slept through the hottest part of the day, pets and insouciant nobles alike, and Sonic took up doing the same. He found the nearest window and splayed himself wherever the tile was cool, and slept there until the sun crept back into his space, and he was awake late into the night for when Jet was finally discharged of his daily obligations. Now, though, taking advantage of the largely empty halls, Sonic was mapping out the palace, retracing the path Shadow had taken him on.

Sonic was quite good with direction, and despite the confusing and sprawling plan of the magnificent building, every room and corridor was unique and easy to earmark.

Being excellent at navigation, Sonic was as good at sabotage and scouting as he was because he only needed to explore a path once to memorize it. Now, without Shadow, he took in the grandeur of Jet’s home with wordless awe. It still struck him as a massive waste of wealth, the glittering excesses of this kingdom, but Jet fit in here. He belonged, in a way Sonic — and Shadow — did not.

He couldn’t say for how long he wandered like this, passing mostly undisturbed, only the occasional servant scurrying about, lounging pet, or pair of guards his company. It was nearly a full minute before he even heard sound that his instincts began to tingle, unease threading through him the further he moved. His unease was proven well-founded as he heard the increasing sounds of a hushed struggle, and though the immediate course of action for any slave or pet would have been to run to a guard— Sonic’s was to begin to run toward conflict.

Turning the corner, Sonic’s blood beat hard at the sight presented to him. There was either a female slave or a servant of some kind, struggling against the grip of a hand at her arm, but clearly trying not to draw outside attention. She wore plain dark clothes, not quite the garb of any servant Sonic recognized. Whatever the conflict was, it was hushed, both figures whispering harshly to one another. While the pale wolf was clearly a subservient, the other was unmistakable; he was clearly of noble birth, a dark furred jackal Sonic did not recognize.

In case he was misinterpreting the scene as he had with Slinger, Sonic held back from announcing his presence— until the moment the jackal reared back and slapped the girl hard across the face.

“Hey!” shouted Sonic, and he lunged into the corridor, earning himself a fierce glare from the yellow-eyed jackal — but no, one of his eyes was blue, a trademark feature Sonic took note of for later — before the girl was then shoved into the floor with a harsh thud of her body hitting the hard tile. “Get your hands off her! She’s a palace worker!”

If there was one thing Sonic had come to learn about Babylon, it was that servants and slaves offered their obedience in exchange for perfect treatment. It was a contract, and a person of such status who could not defend themselves was never to be mistreated for their submission. Sonic was still working on that obedience part, but found he himself was not exempt from this rule, even as an ex rebel.

“Is that what you think?” said the jackal, baring his teeth, and Sonic felt the fur rise all over his body. “Crawl back into your master’s bed, slave, and forget what you’ve seen here. It’s better for your Prince if you do.”

And the jackal turned and reached down to heave the girl up by her shirt with both hands, a glint in his menacing gaze that told Sonic that should he heed his advice and turn his cheek, this girl would not be seen again.

He didn’t think. Didn’t even hesitate. He had no shoes, but it didn’t make his reflexes any less quick, or his hit any less damaging when his foot collided sideways into the jackal’s rib cage, followed up by a fist into the nearest part of him he could reach; that sensitive snout. The jackal however didn’t immediately crumple in pain the way Sonic expected him to. His mouth curled in a vicious snarl, baring sharp fangs, and now nursing a nose gushing with blood. Sonic didn’t know if that was what tipped him off right then, but he understood suddenly that this was no palace noble, and that there was a reason he didn’t recognize him.

“Don’t—“ the girl whispered, her voice strained as she pulled herself up from the floor. “Spare him, please—“

She was talking to the jackal. Not to Sonic.

“I don’t think I will,” he said, too pleasantly, and reached inside his robes, and everything tensed on Sonic’s body. His spines, uselessly blunted and no help for him here, puffed out in threat and he prepared to go in again, not appreciating being taken so lightly—

“Hey, you! Don’t move!”

Guards. Just one, initially. And then two, and four, six.

“This guy, he was attacking—“ Sonic opened his mouth to say, but it wasn’t the jackal being taken, it was him. And not only him, but the girl, too.

“Sir,” said the oldest of the guards, bowing his head deeply toward the jackal. “Have you been injured? These slaves will be taken at once.”

The jackal let his robes drop, pausing in whatever he’d been reaching to grab. He dabbed, delicately, at his freshly bleeding nose, sniffing slightly.

“Yes,” he answered, his voice low, and dangerous. “These two ingrates attacked me. This one—“ he pointed menacingly at Sonic, “Helped his little slave friend after she directly disobeyed an order.”

Sonic shot his eyes over at the she wolf, who had allowed herself to also be taken into custody, her ears dropped and her expression pinned, eyes shut. She said nothing in her own defense, or in Sonic’s.

“Liar,” Sonic spat, venomously, but he followed the girl’s example, and did not bother fighting the hands holding him hostage. He wondered why such an over abundance of guards for a single slave— and then recalled how he’d initially been taken captive. Purposely, he made his spines drop and didn’t struggle even as they used extra force than necessary to hold him.

“Be quiet!” the guard addressing them snapped. At the very least, it was Sonic’s turn of luck that this time he wasn’t hit for the insult, the man leading the arrest not the old captain of the guard. Sonic simply let himself go uncharacteristically quiet, his distrusting glare settling on the jackal, who looked quite pleased.

“The attack was on you, my lord,” said the head guard, bowing once more. “In the absence of their masters, it’s whoever has been slighted who may choose if a punishment is to be made.”

The jackal narrowed his eyes.

“Take them both to the flogging post,” he said, and Sonic felt his stomach drop.

One of the guards was sent as a runner to fetch the Prince, the other slave evidently having no assigned master yet to alert, and was hauled out of the palace along with Sonic, wordless. Sonic could’ve fought; could’ve escaped, too. But he walked on, his heart pounding.

Sonic would go first, it was decided.

He only truly balked once they arrived at the walled in outdoor courtyard, this one meant not only for training for the guards and soldiers, but also for this. Punishment. The flogging post stood as a single, ominous trunk of wood that jutted gracelessly from the ground, not at all looking like it belonged in the palace. He was not put in stocks, but was strapped to this post, his wrists tied, his feet left untethered. He was good as held, regardless.

Everything tensed, dread coursing through him, but he still looked sideways over at the wolf, who was watching him with watery blue eyes. He mouthed at her, it’s okay.

She stared back at him, confused and shaking her head.

“For your crimes against a guest of His Highness, you will be given fifty lashes,” said the handler who walked around the front of the post to face Sonic. At his hip was coiled a long whip. It wasn’t like the riding crop. This was an instrument meant for breaking people. It broke slaves, guards, and soldiers alike.

“A guest?” was his response, frowning.

The handler narrowed his eyes.

“Yes,” he said, sternly. “Sir Infinite is a visiting mercenary of a King.” Seeing Sonic’s stunned expression, the older falcon shook his head slightly. “Yes, indeed, slave. You picked the wrong man to show your rebellion to.”

“Let me talk to my prince,” Sonic grit out, glaring.

“You will say nothing more in your defense, as slaves do not have one.” The bird narrowed his eyes and then tilted his chin at a guard somewhere off to the side. “Gag him.”

Sonic didn’t fight the gag, but he continued glaring even as the wooden bit was placed into his mouth, and then tied around his head with cloth. The whip would not fall on his back, however, until the prince and Sonic’s handler — Shadow — arrived to facilitate the punishment.

Sonic rested his forehead against the wooden grain of the post with a silent exhale through his nose, shut his eyes, and simply…waited.

The passing minutes might as well have felt like hours, when it came to interrupting the Prince's tight schedule and Shadow's work, much to the dismay of the roaming guards to track Sonic's masters' down. Of course the most troublesome slave in the palace was owned by some of the highest honored nobles and royals in the kingdom.

Sonic could've told by the sound of bowing heads and respectable murmurs that one of them had finally entered the room to collect him-- Jet showing first, identifiable by the gentle jingling of the golden circlet that swayed on his top headfeather.

Whereas someone like Shadow might've been visibly disappointed or upset, Jet seemed cocksure as ever as he stepped forward, twirling his finger in the air first before pointing at the two bound slaves.

"Um," he began, audibly confused. "Well, what did he do?"

"We apologize for bringing your out here in the middle of your day, Prince Jet. We—" The main guard in charge knelt briefly, fist over his heart in shame.

"It's whatever, don't worry about it. Gives me an excuse to get some fresh air. So why am I here, then?" Jet peered curiously at the scene again as the guard in front of him stood back up, ignoring the solemn attitude entirely.

"They attacked Sir Infinite unprovoked, my liege. He requested they be flogged for their unchecked aggression towards him." One of the other guards answered him immediately, and Jet nodded precariously in return.

"Infinite?"

"He's here today for a check in on a slave he took an interest to a couple months back."

Jet turned his finger to the wolf restrained next to Sonic, "Is that them?"

"No, my prince. She was brought in for an equal exchange. The slave Sir Infinite is after is also a wolf. She serves as payment, sir."

Jet's feathers flicked and rustled as he shrugged, having heard enough to make a decision. Perhaps it might've been appealing in a more... private environment, something about seeing his Blue Phantom gagged up and tied down to a post made him feel off about the whole thing. He waved his hand like he was shooing the entire situation away.

"Alright then, then let the bargain continue uninterrupted. Let them go, and then...I dunno— Shadow will take care of them, I'm sure."

The guard faltered, glancing between their jackal guest and the prince. "I— not to question your command, your highness, but are you sure? They drew blood,"

A new voice entered the room then, boots scraping against the ground with another set of padded footsteps in tow.

"He'll walk it off," Shadow sighed, the sight of blunted blue quills side by side with the pillar one he wished he was surprised to see. "For all that talk about not being weak, a bloody nose is really the least of his worries. Isn't it."

Right behind the trainer trailed another wolf, one with a bright red coat that rivaled the healthiest of roses. His leash linked to the gather of length in Shadow's hand, silently respectful as Jet walked by both of them in passing.

"My apologies, your Highness. Would you like me to see to the both of them?" Shadow said in a softer tone just between the two of them, and Jet patted his shoulder in assurance.

"I trust your judgement. It was nice getting out of one of those stuffy meetings for a minute."

"As you wish," Shadow replied simply, the responsibility of the situation passed off to him as multiple gazes set onto his frame, disgracefully. The spotlight was truly never meant for him. He approached the hooded jackal with a sense of apathy, bowing his head out of obligation rather than true respect.

"Thank you for your troubles. Sorry about the blue one— he's the prince's newly beloved troublemaker. He keeps things lively around here. Prince Jet has overruled your flogging in favor of... specialized, consequences by my hand as their trainer. I assure you I will see to it they will not go unpunished."

It was not the mercenary, Infinite who appeared most displeased by this lack of public punishment, but the falcon handler, who openly showed his disapproval toward Shadow. But regardless, Shadow outranked him, and was sanctioned by the crown prince, so he had no choice but to order the hedgehog untied from the post.

“You will do well to grovel at your masters’ feet for their supreme mercy on you,” he said, sternly, as a dispassionate guard untied the bit from around Sonic’s mouth. Sonic barely resisted rolling his eyes, only because the handler’s gaze on him was severe. He realized belatedly that he was waiting for his answer, abject and proper.

“Yes sir,” he mumbled, casting his gaze downward. After a long stare, the falcon deemed this acceptable, and allowed both him and the wolf to be turned off.

Sonic glanced sideways at her, wanting to reassure her— but there was something about her that made him curious. She didn’t have the manner of a slave, not at all. She was like him. Pretending niceties, and not very good at it. In fact, where Sonic had mastered a little manipulation in himself for navigating this court, the other slave was unbearably stiff and awkward, her bowed head and slumped posture born not of submission, but of a desire to disappear. Sonic understood now what he hadn’t understood before. It had not been fear that kept her from sputtering excuses and pleas for them both, but pride.

“Shadow won’t hurt you,” he whispered to her. She looked up at him, startled, and apprehensive. Sonic went on. “He won’t punish you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“And you?” she whispered, so soft he could barely catch her words. Sonic shrugged.

“I attacked a mercenary,” was all he said.

He truthfully had no idea what Shadow could plan for him, if anything. Surely by now, he trusted that not only Shadow but Jet, too, knew him well enough that the accusation of an unprovoked attack was complete bullshit. But making a scene here and starting a new fight wasn’t an option.

“What’s your name?” he tried, but received no answer, further talk between them cut off regardless as they were prodded by the butt of ceremonial spears to move forward.

Sonic did not grovel, but the way nearly every member of this morbid audience glared at Shadow, promising his trainer yet again a hard time for seemingly not being able to get a handle on his wayward charge— he felt he probably should’ve.

Infinite was glancing between Shadow and Sonic, the bloodied nose of course little injury to a mercenary like him. Rather, his displeasure melted into a perverse kind of fascination, his gaze lingering — too long — on the Prince’s favorite pet. Predictably, Sonic met his stare, his eyes implacable.

“How mercifully lenient,” he said, slowly, the words as backhanded as they were praising. “How very fitting of such a…gracious prince to spare his slave the fifty lashes such an attack would call for.” The eyes finally tore themselves off Sonic, who appeared even less amused than he had tied to the post. “I do hope Babylon is not so subservient to its own slaves as to give him a lighter sentence. Tell me, Shadow— you do have expertise in torture, do you not?” Infinite smirked. “I for one would enjoy watching a great deal.”

When the red wolf leashed at Shadow’s side paled, Infinite laughed gently and reached out to trace a claw over a wilted ear.

“You have nothing to fear, my pet. Ensure you are more well behaved than this one, and you will only receive praise from me. I am not unreasonable.”

"I don't particularly like to make exhibitions when I'm teaching any slave a lesson, you'll have to forgive me. Gadget here will dote on you wonderfully, however, so please," Shadow glanced at the young wolf with a reassuring confidence as he handed the gather of the leash over to Infinite's reached palm, handing him over in every possible sense. "I have no doubt you'll find his behavior leagues beyond what you've unfortunately experienced so far."

As if to amplify his point, Gadget tucked his skull under the hand his ear was pressed under, warm and inviting already even towards a less than easy arrangement. Perfectly trained and well mannered, even a small swish of the fluffy tail behind him showing his eagerness towards his new master.

"Thank you for choosing me, master. Please forgive the hedgehog slave, I can see why he might've been intimidated by you. I look..." Gadget peered up at Infinite, testing his words before he said them. "I look forward to becoming yours." He settled on, a little snaggled tooth peaking behind his smile.

Shadow's chest might've puffed out a little bit more when it proved his hard work paid off. Motioning Sonic closer to him, when he stepped by his side Shadow quickly smacked one of Sonic's flanks with his hand just the once.

"Take notes, and perhaps I won't have to torture you like our dear visitor is suggesting." It was all but an empty threat, but still a valid point. He would have to get the full story from Sonic when they were alone, but even if his submission was just for show, it would leave them all in much better standing if he could just stuff it in front of anyone else in the kingdom.

"If I may," Gadget spoke up again, a bit quiet until the others waited for him to speak. His eyes were on Sonic as well now as he only meant well. "I think it's very uh... attractive, for you to be so collected despite the possible danger. Your lack of cowardice is awe-inspiring, even if ignorant." It felt like another backhanded compliment, but he looked so genuine while saying it. "Only because it seems my new master is just as interested in you, maybe it doesn't have to be punishment as your consequence..? Maybe, if it's all well and right, my masters, he could accompany or join us when we—"

"Ah." Shadow stopped him there with a single word and a shake of his head. "It looks like you two have some opportunity to get to know each other better. Infinite, you'll show him not to be so nervous, yes?"

Sonic’s reaction to the light smack had been negligible, only shooting a brief look at Shadow of mild annoyance, and he resisted protesting verbally. Shadow could only imagine how belligerent Sonic would’ve been three months ago at being hauled off and tied to a flogging post.

His reaction to the other slave’s prosaic suggestion, however, was not quite like anything he’d seen on the hedgehog, before. Sonic flushed, the attention of the other slave unexpected, and not sure how to react to it. The smile he’d leveled at Gadget before, hoping to reassure the wolf that Shadow would not in fact be torturing him later, formed instead a little ‘o’ of shock.

While the slave he’d gotten in trouble with stiffened from behind them, Infinite’s smirk grew, his eyes glittering when he settled them on his new slave. He petted the small wolf, adoring.

“What a bold thing you are,” he said, affectionate, leagues different from the mercenary who had tried to attack the girl before. “But that’s a desirable trait to me. Shadow, it seems my dear pet does have very good eyes.” As he scratched under Gadget’s chin, proprietary and already doting of his new pet, he eyed Sonic. “I agree, it is attractive.” His smirk, showing teeth now, became unpleasant to Sonic. “If misguided. Nothing a firm hand cannot correct. Shadow, I insist you lend him to me. Let Gadget here show him a few manners.” He turned back to his new pet, his attention rapt. “Would you like that, pet?”

At Gadget’s slightly starry eyed expression, Sonic awkwardly averted his gaze, at first elsewhere. However, Infinite gave a gently tug at Gadget’s leash to move with him the few paces toward Sonic, a clawed hand reaching out, permitted by Shadow or not, to grab at his chin, and Infinite was encouraging Gadget to do the same.

Whether it was the presence of a dispersing audience, or his Prince in the vicinity, or Shadow beside him, or Gadget’s harmless admiration— whatever it was, Sonic stoically endured it, his eyes widening slightly, and it didn’t go past him the way the small wolf’s tail twitched when Sonic leveled his gaze on him.

The girl from before was quickly grabbed and taken by the falcon handler, because she’d reacted, itching to jump in, but Sonic spared his attention just long enough to give her a tiny shake of his head. This moment passed unnoticed by their guests, Sonic forced back into the moment when Gadget put a tentative hand on him.

Sonic’s gaze shot pleadingly toward Shadow, his gaze saying, stop them, before I stop them myself.

“What do you think, Gadget?” Infinite was saying, removing the hand from Sonic’s face to run it down between red ears. “Do you know who this one is? He is — or was — a Resistance fighter. Quite exotic even for the Prince.” That hand trailed down to Gadget’s back. “He is at the very least more substantial than the willowy pets that typically come through here, delicate and waifish. I think you two would pair quite well, though his temperament isn’t ideal for a passive role.” He nosed at one of Gadget’s ears, looking over his head at Shadow. “But you are not the type to be on top regardless, are you, my pet?”

"Oh, no sir. Not even during my heats," Gadget confirmed, taking the blunt question without hesitation considering he was the one who started such a lewd track of conversation. "An ex-rebel makes so much sense for you." He squinted down at Sonic, and perhaps if they were alone he would've confided more in him. How before he ended up in Babylon they had tried to shove a weapon in his hand as well, how hurting people — anyone — had been the last thing he'd ever wanted to do, and it had landed him with a collar around his neck and a lead in someone else's hand.

That he genuinely didn't mind the hot meals that came to him every day and the release of responsibility off his shoulders felt more of a blessing than a restriction. Gadget was a prime example of Shadow's belief in the slave trade— there were good owners to provide, and slaves just as happy to give back their good fortune.

All of that still did nothing to deter the blush of his muzzle at what the jackal had suggested, the image of this rugged, strong hero pulling his hips back and pushing into him while their owners watched attentively.

The daydream shattered when Shadow stepped between them, pulling roaming hands off Sonic's body and guiding him a step back away from the canines.

"Unfortunately, I can't lend him to you in good conscience for what the Prince might think of it," was the excuse, though on the inside he was surely thinking even if he was all mine to give, there would be no way I'd let you have him. None of that had an inch of showing on his face however as he continued.

"Perhaps another time," Shadow was quickly bringing this interaction to a close before things could go to far, knowing by the twitch of Sonic's ear and the slight bounce of his leg just how fast he was approaching to another situation that would fall onto his hands if nothing was done about it. "Besides, I am terribly busy with everything going on, and I'd want to supervise him if he was ever invited into another bed. You wouldn't want another bloody nose situation, yes?" It was so professional and matter-of-fact as he said it, but it was truly a jab at Infinite's expense under all the dressing.

Turning on his heel, Shadow ordered the guards off with the girl to be brought down into the dungeons to start on her files and assign her a role within the kingdom to fulfill, snapping his fingers for Sonic to follow him closely as he booked it for the door.

"Enjoy your time here, you two, and as much as I'd love to stay— I cannot. Sonic, come."

Infinite, for his part, didn’t let his disappointment show openly. Rather than be put out, his intentions of making Sonic uncomfortable had been successful, and he wound up Gadget’s lead around his hand and murmured something into his ear, only for him to hear, causing a new brilliant flush on his slave’s face, and tugged him along the opposite way, out of the courtyard and back inside.

Sonic breathed a little easier when he followed Shadow away, too eager to get out of the courtyard and away from that ominous flogging post and the unpleasant handler.

No immediate excuses came, even when they became relatively alone. He followed, unusually silent. It wasn’t the brazen groping that had turned his mood, or even the other daring slave’s suggestion that could’ve easily landed him in hot water had Shadow not been around to save him. Again.

He was unnerved by everything before that. Once again, his instincts to help others only resulted in more punishment. But this time he had been justified— he was convinced of that. Infinite would have done more to that girl, and he shuddered to think what could’ve happened uninterrupted.

She’s just a palace worker. That’s what he’d said.

Is that what you think?

Sonic couldn’t wrap his head around what the mercenary had meant by that. Who was she, then, really? Who was Infinite?

Why did he feel like he’d just landed in tar, and that every struggle would sink him further?

Bringing up a hand to rub between his eyes, Sonic sighed. Thinking in circles about it was succeeding less in gaining clarity in more in gaining himself a headache. Nothing made sense, somehow even less so than before. He felt the truth just at the edge of his grasp, eluding him. When that became too confusing to dwell on, he turned his attention to what was familiar, instead, turning toward Shadow.

“Is the Prince angry?” he asked, reluctantly, having been unable to see the reaction of the hawk, strapped with his back to the palace as he’d been.

Shadow merely looked at Sonic from the side while they kept walking, not answering his question right away. He let the uneasiness build now that he was in full control of it, in full control of how far he'd push Sonic out of comfort here. And it was looking like Sonic's guess might've been accurate, considering how familiar their scenery around them was changing from tiled palace floors to descending staircases, to once again facing the door that only held more stone steps behind it where the air grew colder and the noise bounced off every surface.

Though it spoke wonders when Shadow could have Sonic follow him down here without a leash or even the use of restrictive, draining chaos magic like he had when they first met. It wasn't even the fact he was trained, but it showed that they had trust in each other that only grew stronger each time it was tested.

Like how it would be a relief for Sonic to hear his words when Shadow finally did feel like speaking, only when they finally reached the bottom of the entryway to the dungeons.

"Actually, he was childishly pleased with you. Not for your actions, but for getting him out of one of his business meetings to fool around for a while. So in that case..." He trailed off, walking back to one of the main cells that Sonic had called his bed chambers during the majority of their early training.

"How about we start with you telling me everything that happened up there, and then I find a suitable punishment for your actions, mm?"

Shadow hummed to himself as he shut the door behind them, a mild idea of a thought popping into his head if things went well. Perhaps…

Sonic wasn’t particularly pleased to be back down in the dungeons. Not that he expected torture, of course. But coming back to how it all began felt like he’d failed, somehow, progress sliding back instead of forward.

But this wasn’t like the petulant anger of when he’d slighted the Captain down here. This time, Sonic knew he was right.

Gaze sliding over the all too familiar little room, he took a moment before he answered, eyes settling on Shadow. Despite the dreary surroundings, he was mostly relaxed— but still there was a thread of unease in him that had been building since the bizarre attack, not from the prospect of coming down here. It was subtle but there, enough so that Shadow, being very good at reading him by now, could read it.

“He attacked a slave,” was the first thing he said. “That girl, from before. She wasn’t even fighting him back. It’s against Babylon palace rules to raise a hand to a slave for any reason.” Sonic’s frown was small, but there, disquieted by more than just the violence. “I didn’t know who he was.”

And that was the truth. Mistaking Infinite for one of Jet’s courtesans had been a blunder, but he couldn’t honestly say he would’ve held back had he even known. And what king out there was sending mercenaries here, with captured slaves in tow?

“I didn’t draw first blood,” Sonic said, quieter this time. “Will you at least tell the Prince that?”

He said it with the anticipation that he might be held here for some time. That maybe his behavior had landed him back to sleeping down here, if temporarily.

It wasn’t like the situation with Slinger. Sonic didn’t regret his actions, not this time. He’d been given carte blanche to defend himself in any situation where he’d be in danger, since the incident with the Captain. But it wasn’t in his nature to let others be hurt if he could protect them; and that wasn’t a trait that would ever be trained out of him. As such, Sonic didn’t beg for Shadow’s mercy, or make excuses. He didn’t lower his eyes, either, his expression somewhat unreadable, and resigned.

Shadow listened silently as he absorbed all of this new information, his arms crossing comfortably over his chest as they often did. As usual, Sonic was trying to be the hero, at any cost of his or Shadow's expense as the Prince's personal pet. Nothing else would fly through his mind than the gut instinct to help who he believed needed it most in the most fleeting moment.

Jet found it amusing because it released him from the drawl of royalties. Shadow found it irritating to work with, but admirable at its purest form. Even if he could benefit from some critical thinking skills on occasion...

"...I'm not actually sure if this warrants any typical punishment they'd want me to give you. I believe you when you say he struck first." Shadow's voice then turned dry, "And I'm not particularly fond of Infinite himself. He's deserved a bashed nose for quite a while, if we're doing things based off personal feelings."

That said, there was still action to be had. He'd brought Sonic down here for a reason, and now it was a matter of how dangerous Shadow wanted to particularly make things for himself.

Contradictive of his words, Shadow stepped towards the lone desk in the room and rummaged through one of the drawers.

"I think I'll have you do something considerably heavier than just enduring fifty lashes." He found what he was looking for in the next few moments, slowly pulling out the rod of a riding crop and riding his fingers down it from the handle to the leather tip. Normally when Shadow reverted to physical punishment, he would've instructed Sonic to get into position or the like, restrain him somewhere so all he could focus on was the example given that his body couldn't escape from.

"You're excellent at submission, but only when it calls to you. You clearly have a natural talent embedded in you to not just save, but to lead. Every day you make your own decisions rather than wait for your master or his instructions of how he would like you in that hour." Shadow approached Sonic again, twisting the length of the riding crop around in his hold and offering it out for him to take. "I'm going to try to see if those instincts are more than just the impulses engraved in you as a child. I want to see if they come from your heart."

It was a lot, to put himself in such a position. Shadow was flipping the roles between them, the butt end of the crop wavering in the air as he waited for Sonic to take it. If he desired control, he would have to shoulder the responsibility that came with executive order.

"I'm a slave trainer. The resistance would rejoice over my head on a platter. Even so, I've held my position here in the kingdom of Babylon for a considerable amount of time, and you still see visitors and even old guards stuck in their ways treat those considered lesser than them unfairly. That's my fault, isn't it?"

Shadow waited until Sonic actually took the riding crop from his hand before looking directly back at him, using the edge of one of his fangs to pull the clean gloves he usually wore off his hands by the middle finger. He undressed himself silently while watching Sonic simply watch him, stepping out of his boots and placing the discarded clothes by the bedside table there.

The soft clink of heavy set rings around the weaker support of the cuffs of his socks and bare wrists was the loudest thing in the room as he waited for Sonic to take action, like he'd displayed so many times before.

The tool in his hand felt foreign, and strange to hold. Sonic watched Shadow steadily, his expression morphing into confusion, and that confusion becoming something more distracted and appreciative as Shadow undressed.

His lips parted slightly, connecting what Shadow was wanting from him with the crop in his hand. He cocked his head slightly, curiously.

“You’re giving me this to punish you?” he asked. The riding crop was incongruous in Sonic’s hand, and he waved it slightly. He padded forward, for once, both of them as bare as he was, but the way he approached was slightly cautious, feeling up the short whip in his hand.

Lead. Sonic hadn’t seriously thought of himself in such a position— he’d only ever just followed his own instincts. Sometimes to the chagrin of his superiors. Such as now.

They were standing close now, and though he’d never been tempted to hold the crop himself, he reached out with it, touching the end under Shadow’s chin, curious how he’d look. To have their roles reversed like this…Sonic wasn’t experienced in this way, but his natural curiosity was a given. He thought back to when he’d wanted to bury himself inside Jet, had only been held back from doing so by Shadow’s hold on him.

Surely, that wasn’t Shadow’s plan for him? But Shadow was just standing there, waiting for him.

“I don’t know if you deserve punishment for that,” he said, wondering if Shadow would have been so lenient with any other slave besides him. To offer him something like this instead, certainly not a punishment. “I saw Infinite’s pet. He was perfectly trained. Are you saying you failed?” A pause, and then; “Or do you just always take responsibility for everyone else?”

Shadow couldn't help the quick smirk when Sonic had picked up what he had put down for him with minimal hesitation, tilting his chin up perfectly with the edge of the crop in challenge.

"A bit of both, I suppose. I'm not responsible like how the Prince is responsible, but as long as someone ignores to heed my word because it challenges their way of life, I will never truly succeed at changing this kingdom. I am responsible for as many people who choose to listen. And Gadget was a very excellent listener."

He stood there, waiting to see if that crop would wander anywhere else before continuing.

"Then there are people who only listen when it benefits them. Those might even be more of a failure considered they seek to take advantage of me, but are just as ignorant as the ones who refuse to hear me speak."

He held his tongue in pointing out that Sonic himself dangerously toed that line, obedient until it was something he didn't like. The only reason he didn't entirely fall onto that group was because his reasons for lashing out were usually compelled by selflessness, always breaking rules for others rather than his own self enjoyment.

It was... strange, being on this end of the relationship. Shadow felt an urge to take the whip back, to turn Sonic's back to the bed and regain his grasp of the scene, but he withheld himself to see where the other hedgehog wanted to take them. He had asked for punishment, he shouldn't fear it as a result.

"I feel as if it reflects poorly on me when the slaves under my charge are punished or troubled. It makes my work look sloppy, untrustworthy for my position here."

Sonic’s eyes were unwavering on Shadow as he spoke, trailing the end of the crop very slowly down his neck. He wasn’t all that sure about using it on Shadow, but he was using it in place of his hands— because he could feel how impatient he was. He wasn’t methodical and slow the way Shadow was, but he knew Shadow preferred to take time.

“You’ll go mad taking responsibility for everyone,” he said, half a chastisement as it was a genuine statement. He paused his exploration as the end of the crop dipped into fluffy white chest fur, the end disappearing in the thickness of it. “What about taking responsibility for yourself?”

Sonic was only allowed so much boldness because Shadow had handed him the crop. Whether he would use it now was up to him.

“Especially if you try to take responsibility for me.” He allowed himself a smile, then, green eyes flicking back up to Shadow’s face. “All this time, you’ve been showing me what I could want— but what about what you want?” He pushed forward, nudging Shadow backward, toward his old bed.

Shadow’s knees hit the bed, and not for the fist time, Sonic wondered what it would be like had they met as equals. As both free men, how it would’ve happened between them. While Sonic couldn’t be sure how, he only knew that it would have happened. In the same way he’d wondered in the aftermath of that strange, three way fuck between Shadow and the Prince how he and Jet would’ve gone about it. His own desire to climb over the hawk and take him — that same desire that told him he could’ve willingly taken Gadget — rose in him now, as he pushed Shadow gently down by the shoulders.

Sonic of course was not experienced at this reversal of roles. But it never took much to pique his curiosity, and Shadow had suspected this underlying dominant streak in his wayward charge before Sonic had ever considered it.

The way he was talking to him now, stripped of titles or slave niceties, Shadow couldn’t be sure if he was embracing the new role Shadow was handing over, or if he was simply acting as he always wanted to.

“You never really tell me what you like for yourself, just what other masters will like from me.” Sonic forwent the crop for the moment to lean down and brush his lips against Shadow’s, not quite a proper kiss. “It seems to me that this is less about punishment, and more about curiosity, Shadow.”

"Perhaps," He replied, a heated buzz under his skin where Sonic trailed either with his mouth or tool, ignoring the fact Sonic had so blatantly called him out in favor of falling into the role he had assigned to himself instead. Half lidding his eyes down, letting Sonic push him down the rest of the way until his quills stiffened and then softened under the give of the sheets.

He stretched for his viewing pleasure, heaving a sigh as his muscles ached favorably.

"I would be lying if the idea hadn't just crossed my mind, but has been outright proposed by practically everyone else around me. I figured I'd give you a shot."

It was in there. For sure, by the way those green eyes were slowly alighting with ideas and desire, Shadow was only compelled to stoke the embers into a full fledged flame between them. But not a servant to avoid critique, Shadow circled them back around to his original point.

"I like it when others do as I tell them, and show me respect as to stay out of my way. I'm not afraid of being challenged, chaos, no-- but only when it promises to be fruitful. I hate being left unsatisfied," Shadow listed off, and the next time the riding crop drifted over his cheek he pressed a kiss to the rod. "Does that answer satisfy you, sir?"

He knew exactly what he was doing with that word, tacked on to the end of his sentence, by the way his gaze darkened dangerously up at Sonic when he said it.

He briefly wondered if it hit something in Sonic by handing him the same thing that had been used against him so many times, if he would even have the gull to properly strike him with it or not. How far would he have to go to invoke that route in him, something petty if not outright vengeful in the ex-rebel.

Shadow suppressed a shudder at the thought. It enticed him, the idea of getting Sonic to that point just as much as it did when he cried his name, begging for more when he fucked into him mercilessly. Something so different than what he was familiar with, testing his limits. He needed to see them all.

Sonic was indeed enjoying this new view of Shadow, watched the length of his body stretch out for his benefit, and he resisted crawling immediately over him.

But then he visibly paused, eyes snapping up to Shadow’s face with open surprise at the sir. His face flushed, in a similar manner he’d flushed when Gadget had been looking at him with open adoration. It had the air of slight self consciousness, unused to that kind of attention.

“I find it difficult to think you’d do anything just because someone else suggested it,” he said, trying to shake off the slight embarrassment. The bed dipped slightly as he put his knee onto the mattress, green eyes focused unwavering on Shadow as he settled beside him, kneeling over him. “You’re too prideful to be swayed like that.”

The only exception being, perhaps, Prince Jet, for obvious reasons. But Sonic wondered if Shadow had been curious since the incident with Jet, or if it went back further than that.

Then again, if this was coaching like Shadow had suggested before— he doubted he would be getting told to reverse their roles down to the control. He was certain Shadow wasn’t intending for Sonic to step in as role of master over the prince, which confirmed to him his suspicions that Shadow was doing this for entirely unprofessional reasons.

Not that Sonic was a stickler for professionalism.

Finally, he’d spent months fantasizing about getting his hands on Shadow and enacting revenge for everything. And now, Shadow was handing him that opportunity, and Sonic felt the nervous sweat under his fur at his chance. Something he’d thought about over and over, yet he had no actual sure plan of how to do it. So he swallowed and decided not to think, and just follow his instincts.

“I haven’t left you disappointed before; don’t plan on it now.”

Finally, he could act on his desires not as a slave, but as an ordinary hedgehog. He kissed Shadow proper this time, unable to resist doing so any longer, leaned over him as he prodded Shadow’s lips with his tongue. The hand not gripping the crop came to rest on Shadow’s chest, fisting the fur there as he devoured his mouth.

Usually when they kissed, Shadow held control over it like most things in their relationship. Each movement, the escalation, how often his tongue slipped out to tease at the other's and work Sonic's lips like trained magic. Even in the times it was needy and full of breathy moans, a clash of teeth and claws grabbing each other close, he still had some form of control like a mental leash to push away or pull him over the edge together, precise like everything he did.

This was a stark contrast to that. Shadow was truly letting Sonic lead, characteristically matching wherever Sonic wanted them to go. He kissed him hard, arching his chest up towards his hand as he mutually pulled the sides of Sonic's head down with him. He let his tongue drag up the side of Sonic's own, a little pleased noise escaping his throat while heat festered between their bodies.

Anything he did, he waited for Sonic to give the first notion before indulging in it further, even if he subtly  made all his wants obvious. From the way his hips opened towards him to the contented swish of his tail, his thighs tilting up and welcoming for Sonic to slide between them— Shadow was as good in the role as much as he taught others to enjoy it, reactive and trusting in the moment to leave everything in Sonic's hands.

"So does that mean," He pulled between kisses, one of his fingers trailing down to nudge the tip of the riding crop in Sonic's hand, "You're sparing yourself the chance to find me at fault for everything tonight? Such generosity you're showing towards me, if that's true." Shadow knew Sonic to be a kind individual, perhaps too kind. That is how he got in this particular situation, after all-- working with honey rather than vinegar would make sense for him. "Should I be thanking you, then?"

Sonic snorted quietly at the question, even though his muzzle was warm. He kept kissing Shadow between his words, reveling in every soft smeck of their lips as they parted again and again.

I feel as though I should be thanking you instead, thought Sonic, nibbling on Shadow's lips. He felt the nudge to the riding crop, could feel Shadow guiding him even now when he was submitting to him. It was clear Shadow wanted him to use it--

But for Shadow's punishment, or for Shadow's pleasure? Or did he think it would be for Sonic's pleasure to use it for once? Taking pleasure in getting revenge on the trainer who'd subdued him all these months?

Sonic adjusted his grip on the crop, the instrument foreign in his own hand. This loathsome object, a petty and insignificant tool in the hands of men who wished to enact violence. But this was not violence.

"Don't thank me," he said, and in the next moment he used the element of surprise to flip Shadow bodily until he was belly down against the bed. Though it would've been easy for an unbroken slave such as him to begin whipping Shadow angrily, to abuse the reversal Shadow had granted them, there was a hand running warmly up his lower back, pressing down slightly there on his spine to encourage him to arch his back. Presentation. Something he'd done so many times for Shadow, and wasn't used to being on the other end of it.

It sent hot, startling desire through his limbs, and the same way he'd wanted to sink into the Prince when the hawk had presented for him was returning now. The end of the crop was used to lift up his tail and pinning it up momentarily.

"Why don't you be honest about why you want this," said Sonic. Smack. "Without using the pretense of coaching me as your excuse. I don't think you're planning for me to do this to the Prince." The strike had been an experimental one, and was naturally wary. Sonic wasn't one to want to use such a tool-- though that wasn't to say he wasn't one to cause a little pain pursuit of pleasure. Teeth and claws were his weapons during sex, leaving Shadow clawed up even with his nails trimmed as they were and impressions of teeth embedded in his skin. But his strength was innate, and the smack was considerably hard enough to cause the first sting of heat.

Shadow expertly kept his arched position after he had tempted Sonic enough to finally hit him, the strike more surprising than anything even close to discomfort or the likes of pain. His ears perked forward and twitched to the side in interest, the only show of weakness being the careful droop of his tail trying to protect the sensitive area between his legs. He was a perfect picture of slavelike obedience if you disregarded that, however.

"Definitely not the Prince," Shadow confirmed, voice unfairly controlled and clear. "And it's not an excuse. I wanted to put you on the other end of the crop, I wanted to see how you would use it." Shadow inhaled another slow breath, an inch of that unsure black tail raising up, showing his true intrigue. "I wanted to see how you would use it on me." It felt like that last bit held double meaning in his words. Shadow had asked him outright for punishment, suggestive and strangely eager for Sonic to take anything out on his body like this.

It would most likely be considered whorish to show such blatant want for Sonic to hit him again, the anticipation building under his skin as he prepared for it and shooting heat down to gather around his pouch. Shadow's thighs pressed together, the muscles tense as he hid himself for an instinct of humility-- or maybe he just wanted Sonic to work for it, either or.

Shadow rested his head on his forearms while he waited patiently. Not challenging, like how Sonic often was in such a position like this. Somehow, even with his back arched and his body made for Sonic's viewing pleasure, Shadow still held an energy of being condescending in just how spotless and gracefully each of his movements were. How he never stuttered or stumbled, lost posture or gave into the intimidation he should've been feeling. He was just as rebellious as Sonic naturally was in this kind of sense, sharing the reluctance of submission between them. It would have to be worked for, rightfully earned before being given.

Sonic's heart beat harder in his chest, his suspicions confirmed even without the words to back them up; Shadow wanted the crop, wanted the pain. It was a little — or a lot — unfair how perfectly Shadow slipped into this role. He wasn't like Sonic, whose stubborn pride made submitting a near impossible feat to achieve.

He was as poised and perfect as if he'd been born into the role, and not the master on the other end of the leash all his life. The way his hips canted slightly upward and his tail lifted, the curve his back perfectly angling his body for Sonic to do with what he pleased. This ease of access played further into the impossible fantasy of slave. If Shadow were a slave — if Shadow were his slave — he would be ready for Sonic always. Always willing, always acquiescent. Sonic knew instinctively this was the very lesson the trainer had wanted to instill in him for months.

But there was something in Shadow that Sonic had seen an echo of in Slinger; an innate pride that somehow did not sit at odds with his submission. His poise was unselfconscious, still somehow mastering Sonic even when presenting his body to be whipped and used. It annoyed him unreasonably, which only inflamed his own desire to satisfy him all the more. And to break down Shadow's composure, so purposefully at ease and saying, look at where you fail, and where I can succeed.

"My seductive and cruel master, craven for punishment," said Sonic, with a slight laugh. The whip came down again, and this time it was hard. The sound of it was loud in the room, causing a stripe of disturbed fur along the curve of Shadow's buttock. "Maybe you'd rather be Prince Jet's pet rather than his slave trainer?"

It was a jab, though it came from a place of curiosity. He didn't smooth his hand over the hot stripe left behind from the crop, the way Shadow had done to him. He instead ran it down the small of his back until he wrapped it around the black tail and pulled it even further up and out of his way. The weight on the bed behind Shadow shifted as another two stripes landed, each hit harder than the one before it.

It thrilled him to know that Shadow enjoyed this. That he was asking for this. It was not something Sonic ever thought anyone could actively want, and yet Shadow was once again proving that he truly knew nothing about anything in this arena.

Teeth scraped past fur to agitate the already sensitive skin under Shadow's fur, and Sonic used the end of the tool to slide it between Shadow's shut thighs and prod it against Shadow's swelling sheath. In the same moment Sonic acted on the same impulse he'd had before with the Prince, and unfurled his tongue over his exposed entrance.

It was not until the third strike that Shadow's hands held onto the sheets below, gasping when the rod pressed up against his arousal. It hurt, but not in the normal way it should've. The pain drew him tight and the blood under his skin rushed and left his skin tingling with the feeling, Sonic's tongue feeling almost cool in comparison to the heat radiating off his body.

"Oh, I'd find myself in trouble if that was the case," Shadow purred, the tail in Sonic's hand twitching-- it would've wagged if allowed movement. "I believe I would only submit to those hardworking enough to catch me." He tucked his head over his shoulder to look back up at the other hedgehog, his gaze half lidded and wanting. They really were more similar than most cases like this.

Turning his head back away, Shadow had the audacity to laugh at the thought.

"I believe I'd make a most awful pet, really. Imagine if it was I tied to the wood stocks, sentenced to fifty lashes." He shuddered, a sweet moan squeezing out of his throat as the slit of his pouch began to split and leave him exposed, color rushing to his face from being made to be so vulnerable. It was under his allowance, but so unfamiliar nonetheless. He had been on the other end of this a fair amount of times, but being the one who was left to writhe and seek for more touch rather than deliver such a service put him a bit out of his element as it was.

"I'm not sure if I'd make it to fifty in tact, sir." Shadow shoved his muzzle back down into his arms, steadying himself as his limbs wobbled. He stopped himself from the urge of self defense, swallowing down the instinct to throw Sonic off him and regain the upper hand. But he wasn't the only one experiencing such a vastly different perspective, here.

"I don't believe the Prince could deliver on that. You saw him back there, after all. I need a stricter hand.." Just like how you need my hand. "And maybe now you understand how it feels if someone unworthy would take it upon themselves to chastise me, rather than by your own discretion?"

Sir. That word gave Sonic pause, drawing back slightly so he could stare up the length of Shadow’s back. Everything about him was beautifully proportioned, to an almost unfair degree. Sonic couldn’t even imagine him as an awkward youth, with too-long limbs or a cracking voice the way he’d been when he was younger.

He could however imagine him as a pet, like this. Shadow was putting the thoughts in his head, he knew this, when he called him that. Sonic didn’t crave authority like that. But it gave him such a necessary feeling of freedom. Sir. He could only imagine if Shadow was a pet, and he was the master. If Shadow belonged to him. He would—

What would he do? First he had to imagine himself as a master, and he couldn’t do that. Not entirely. But he didn’t have to be a real master. Shadow was handing him the fantasy in a way he could exercise, and Sonic ran his hands up against the grain of Shadow’s luxuriously soft fur on his thighs.

“Would you cum by fifty lashes?” asked Sonic, smirking a little at the idea. Of Shadow being so without self control, so shameless as to reach climax from being punished. “I think you might. That doesn’t sound like much of a punishment, to me.”

Chaos, was there some kind of sadistic streak in him? At Shadow’s impertinence, he swatted his thigh, the same way he know he would have received should he be in Shadow’s position.

“You’re shameless, Shadow.” It felt good to have the freedom to say his name openly like that. Stripped of titles, stripped of power. It reduced him, thoroughly, and that made Sonic’s body rile up even further.

He wrapped his hand around the part of Shadow’s cock was barely peeking out, his touch encouraging it to slide the rest of the way, coaxing. Kissing again under Shadow’s tail, he fully delved back in, tongue prodding and pushing inside as Shadow’s cock fully hardened within his grasp. Playing him with his hands and mouth, in a way he never had before. It was enough to make himself fully exposed without even touching himself, and the effort to resist doing so was making him pant hotly against Shadow.

“Get your oil, and hurry up,” Sonic panted, pulling back, though he kept that stroking hand on Shadow’s cock. “And if you’re fast enough, it won’t be a full fifty lashes.”

"Shameless," Shadow repeated, reluctant to move away so the attention between his thighs wouldn't be interrupted, but he reached forward obediently for the drawer of the nightstand anyways as he'd been instructed. "But not shameless enough to directly oppose your orders, sir. If your guess is correct I might find it tempting to earn the same lashing you've proposed me with."

Oil was a luxury most royals held above, which there was none of in any of the drawers in the dungeon rooms. Not that it deterred Shadow in the slightest, knowing exactly what he was looking for here. Instead he clutched around a small jar with a slick jelly, a fine lubricant on its own accord. He wondered if Sonic hypothetically would be the kind of master to nitpick on such a detail.

Settling himself back into position, his cock falling heavy into Sonic's waiting hand like before— Shadow moaned softly as he offered the jar back to him. "There's no oil here, but this'll do." His tail flicked up again, eager— maybe he was shameless. He narrowed his eyes to look back at Sonic, restraining his hips from moving back against that wonderfully tight palm.

There were other things among that drawer, if Sonic dared to look. Things like toys and smaller hand-tools like featherers, even a flogger for different types of play and punishment. Shadow smirked silently, maybe another time. They could be down here all night if that were the case, and he had a feeling Sonic was enjoying his break from being 'pet' all the time.

"I trust you know what you're doing with me by now? Or would you find it more enticing if I prepared myself for you?" He was already more than plenty excited by that sly tongue, the wafting air cold where saliva had wet silky fur. "I wouldn't blame you if you find yourself unable to keep your hands off me."

Sonic narrowed his eyes down at Shadow's face, left ear flicking in a telltale sign of his budding aggravation. It was minor, of course, a mild annoyance that Shadow was holding up so well when the trainer often had him so thoroughly wrecked when he was under his hands. Even here, Shadow was pulling the strings. It was an illusion of submission.

But Sonic wanted to break that. He wanted to break down Shadow's seductive arrogance, and really get him desperate. Sonic wasn't skilled the way Shadow was in the art of eroticism; but he wouldn't need skill. He just needed determination.

"I'm not so sure pets are supposed to be this cocky," Sonic said with a pointed look at him, but he resisted using the crop again-- that was for the latter part of his plan. And his plan was formulating, though he would still do what he usually did. He was going to wing it.

"Keep your hands down on the bed." Sonic dipped his fingers into the jelly, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger briefly before his gaze shot back down to the view under a lifted black tail. Sonic settled himself comfortably behind Shadow's hips, circling a finger slowly around the hole that glistened with his own spit. His own cock, already hard, pressed against a warm, black thigh. "And lemme hear your voice, Shads."

He was slightly pushing it now, with the nickname. He smirked from behind Shadow and pushed in the first finger, curling it.

Another soft moan slipped from Shadow's lips when Sonic was finally showing that urgency to take charge, though his submission wasn't undoubtful yet. Besides, an order was an order. If Sonic wanted to hear him, what else was he to do but let him?

"My apologies. If it's any condolence, I think you have a very good commanding tone, sir." He apologized how he normally would, but there was still that little bit of snark left in his words, but it could've been passed off for how Shadow usually carried himself. "It's enticing." Shadow held steady through the bend of the finger inside him now, knowing exactly what Sonic was doing in attempts to try and take him apart.

So fine, he'd play.

It was more burbling murmurs of contentedness than raw pleasure being pulled out of him like how he often did with Sonic when the roles were in their normal positions-- but even if it was just for his master of the night's auditory satisfaction, Shadow was being honest with his reactions to every curl and press inside him the best he could while still maintaining grace through the entire process. It was a very different sort of expressed enjoyment than Sonic's loud begging and pleading, desperate to reach just one more orgasm when every sense was already being overloaded.

Whoever's fault was that, to condition him to such a thing, Shadow couldn't imagine. He rolled his eyes at the thought.

But if he was paying close attention, Sonic would have to notice the seconds where Shadow's hands would grip a little tighter at the sheets where he'd ordered them to stay, and where the whispered hums and exhales would cease for a moment and seize up in deathly quiet.

Shadow's silence was the loudest thing in the room to the darker hedgehog during those times, his nerves growing with each time he seemed to get away with it right under Sonic's nose, under the wonderful twist of his fingers pressing up into his sweetspot, under his eyes to soak it all in. A strand of pre cum dribbled from his tip on the next curl, stringing down on the bed so picture-perfect while his cock drooled.

Even with his own lack of experience, Sonic sensed that Shadow was a tough read compared to most lovers. What in another person might be a helpless moan or a toss of their head was in Shadow a single sigh, or the slightest twitch of his body. Sonic was primed to catch every reaction. Blue ears strained to hear every quiet hitch of breath, the sounds soft and fleeting. And even more, the silence when everything tensed around Sonic's finger, perhaps the biggest tell, even more so than if Shadow had broken down and screamed.

A second finger stretched Shadow open, spreading them slightly the way he recalled being done to himself. His other hand, battle-toughened by callouses, wrapped around the pulsing cock, thumbing the tip.

"I want to know," Sonic murmured, leaning over him now, as comfortably as he could with his hands occupied. "I want to know how often you do this. Not with slaves— but in general." Teeth scraped sharp and poignant across the flesh of his shoulder. "Or maybe you've only fucked yourself?"

It caused a tiny spasm of jealousy in him that was completely uncalled for. He would have assumed the Prince, if anyone, but Jet had already denied that he and Shadow had ever been intimate in such a way before their spontaneous time together. He could not imagine that Shadow would ever submit like this to anyone, yet surely someone of his experience would have something.

He impatiently added a third, tongue laving over the bite mark against his shoulder as he curled his fingers, touching upon that spot inside and began to stroke it with a merciless rhythm. If he was rougher than was strictly necessary, it was because he knew Shadow could handle it. And maybe, too, it came from a place of his own built up frustration over the months, and a desire to see Shadow under him for once.

"I— ngh." Shadow faltered, trying to answer the question but choking up on the onslaught of sensation, hot and throbbing in Sonic's hand and around the fingers dipping inside him. It was proven he had Sonic beat when it came to stamina, but it didn't mean he was in any less danger of succumbing to his touch. He took a moment to focus himself.

Sonic had obviously learned quick on how to inflict everything he'd been given before back on his master without struggle, at least physically with his own sense of sensuality. He played rougher than Shadow, clearly-- and it felt so good, with his body rocking back deeper onto his hands to fuck himself deeper, press a little harder against his prostate, then fucking forward against the tight hold of Sonic's fist around him, growing wetter and wetter with his own excitement.

"That's a very accurate guess, mm," Shadow took a pause again, shuddering quietly before taking a deep breath and trying his answer again. "I've turned down plenty of offers prior. I like to work alone. That also applies when part of my job is learning about the body and all it's limits," He wanted those teeth to run over his shoulder again, feeling the agitated red lines raise under his fur. Shadow moaned again, pretty and wanton as he finally answered. "Which includes masturbation and anything else you'd think of. I don't indulge myself very often like this, if that's what you're wondering."

So his unusually high stamina was natural, then. What a befitting yet unfair gift, but it silently accounted for a reason why Shadow never pleasured himself as often as most probably did. He liked being efficient, and writhing on his own hands for awhile struggling to reach that tipping point took far too much time out of his day, and he got to teach that pleasure all day in his work. Seeking a partner for his own pleasure wasn't on his to-do list, and he'd been content with that for years.

But the way this ex-rebel was failing to tire, taking care to intensify every stroke, every push that made Shadow want that cock pressing against his thigh inside him instead, oh. He could get used to that, too.

Shadow wasn't a shaking, blubbering mess under Sonic quite yet, but it showed it was possible for him to get there. The sudden quivers that overtook him, the sweat soaking down his fur and the heavy, concentrated breathing Shadow had to pause to take more and more, cracks began to show in that masterful way he carried himself all the time.

Shadow’s answer was almost enough to stop Sonic in his tracks, a sweet disbelief washing over him. Shadow had never… with anyone? Sonic’s exhale was hard against the fur and flesh he trapped between his teeth, his fingers only giving brief pause before they curled all the more sweetly against his prostate.

He could taste sweat now, could feel the increasing frequency of Shadow’s shuddering, which the trainer attempted each time to bring under his hard control. When an almost blindly lustful desire rose in him to see Shadow unable to stop them any longer— he thought perhaps he understood the point to this scene, now. Oh, how horribly stubborn he must have seemed to Shadow before. If not for the situation he’d been in, Sonic almost pitied the Shadow of the past. Almost. What Shadow had spent months breaking out of him Sonic would now attempt to do in a single scene.

Of course, context mattered. Shadow wasn’t fighting the sexuality itself— but the control. No, Sonic knew well enough Shadow had no issue reaching climax, wouldn’t fight it tooth and nail the way he had. That wasn’t the barrier Sonic was trying to push past. It was…something else.

Was it trust? The idea that Shadow, his captor, his benevolent trainer, was placing a trust in his unruly slave to have his body that he hadn’t given out to anyone else was enough to cause a new twist of emotion in his chest. Again, similarly to how he’d been puzzled by Slinger, by Infinite, by the strange slave girl, by the surprisingly delightful prince— he was puzzled by Shadow. His head swam with what it meant, if it meant anything at all.

“But do you push yourself like I want to push you?” he asked, voice unusually roughened, and because Shadow had reacted so well to the bite from before, he did it again. Teeth embedded in tender flesh; his hand squeezed around the tip of his cock; fingers made a come here motion inside. But in a rush, those hands were off him. Sonic backed off him, his body heat gone, the press of his own hard cock against Shadow gone.

“Keep count, Shadow,” said Sonic, in the moment before the crop landed with a loud crack! just under his black tail.

Shadow wanted to keep up conversation, really, but Sonic knew exactly what being in this position was like. Leaving him tonguetied with desperation so that nothing coherent could leave his lips, melting his brain the moment he'd asked him to use it. Bastard.

The best he could manage was to at least follow the instruction given to him. That was the ease of having a master, to let go of that decision making and just feel and follow. He had maybe a second to recognize Sonic pulling himself off his body before the strike of pain shot up his spine, the sting residing into a wonderfully sore ache that kept his cock excited for a repeat.

"Fuck," Shadow slipped, the quietest obscenity escaping him after the crack of the whip. The deepest smirk curled on his muzzle as he lifted his chin from the bed, and began to count.

"One, sir." And just to rub it in, crimson eyes never seemed so innocent as he looked back up behind him. Even if his muzzle was flushed heavy and he was panting, he was still composed enough to challenge his master for the night back. "May I please have another?"

It so wasn’t fair. How was Shadow still leading him around by the nose, even when playing at submission? It made Sonic all the more determined to give it back as good as he got it— he met Shadow’s composed, slightly smug expression with a narrowing of his own eyes, and the crop landed again.

Sonic wouldn’t have to keep count. He’d make Shadow do it for him. And if he lost count? Sonic would make him start over.

Sonic wasn’t sure he’d really go all the way to fifty, and that certainly headed into severe punishment territory, but he’d go as far as he thought Shadow wanted it. He wouldn’t try to hurt him, but Shadow was made of tougher stuff than most. Like him, it would take a lot to truly inflict intolerable pain, so even as lick after lick left strident red lines under black fur, he knew Shadow wasn’t ready to tap out.

Ten, fifteen, twenty…he took his time, every so often threatening Shadow’s exposed cock with it, tapping the oversensitive organ or simply sliding the end of the crop along its length before returning to his ass and thighs which were forming a nice little collection of small welts. By tomorrow, they would be practically invisible under his midnight black fur, but Sonic would know.

Chaos, his own prick was throbbing. He thought maybe he’d be a little put off by the punishment, not something he’d ever particularly wanted for himself, but Shadow was another case entirely. Sonic had never before fathomed that one could possibly get off from being hit, but his trainer was evidently full of perverse secrets he’d still yet to show Sonic until now, because that dark cock between his legs was hard and dripping as it was before.

On the other side of things, Shadow knew what he was asking for. Knew exactly what he was doing by showing off an attitude specifically meant for Sonic to beat out of him, and he liked what he saw in result, too. He could afford to be a little reckless with the aftermath, and if anything ever got too out of hand he could surely heal himself up just fine with chaos magic. But the entirety of his backside and inner thighs were burning hot, the tender skin underneath where his coat softened and thinned whipped raw and threatening to break if it was going to continue being treated so harshly.

And fuck, it felt amazing. Shadow wouldn't consider himself an outright masochist, the pain he enjoyed primarily starting out sexual rather than pain becoming sexual itself. The drag of claws down his shoulder blades, the stretch and squeeze of muscles contracting in pain just like they did in orgasm, fangs scraping against his skin and sensations that made your toes curl— that kind of pain was key to his sexual desires.

So it was around the thirty-ish mark he really began to lose his grip on things, his thighs trembling slightly as he held himself up with stunning resilience. His chest had lowered to rest against the mattress while his hands still tight at the sheets gripped out in front of his body, and the next time the crop came to tease at his cock, Shadow whimpered.

"Thirty-two, sir," The leathered end was flicking against his tip, collecting the obscene amount of pre and smearing it down his length as it dragged back up through the underside of his raised tail. He was certain it was thirty two. Or at least pretty damn sure of it. Shadow didn't doubt himself. But instead of asking for more like he commonly did every couple of whips, he stopped.

It was against his given orders, technically, but he shifted his weight to one side to briefly squeeze his thighs together. Everything pulled hot and tight, leaving Shadow to waver there, making him take a moment before slowly positioning himself again properly. It could've been left unsaid, it both felt and looked more than obvious what he'd narrowly avoided by a thread of self focus.

But he was here to make a good example, and he really didn't want to miss out on the feeling of the heat of Sonic's hips meeting his own, splitting him open even further than if that crop ever did draw blood. So lifting his head around so he could hear him well, Shadow took a breath before it could be pulled out of him. "I'm close. If we go to thirty-three, I might cum."

He was still so unfairly put together, at least for the first few seconds until the end of the rod dragged back down against his entrance and dared near his cock again. Shadow sharply inhaled again as he broke into soft whimpers, fast and urgent.

"I'll cum, I'll cum, I'll cum, I'll cum--"

Shadow didn't want to break here, not over a prolonged whipping. It shouldn't've been that easy, for Sonic to unknowingly knock him off an edge with neither of them expecting the wiser. His fate rested in Sonic's hands now, whether he would grant him mercy for a little longer and wait to hold out, or commit to letting him fall apart and make a mess of the bed.

When the crop lifted up and off Shadow's body, Sonic also pulled away. It was as much to give Shadow a moment to come back from the edge as it was for himself. Sonic dropped the crop to the bed and his hand flew to squeeze the base of his own cock, desperately, his breathing uneasy.

Shadow's voice, pleading not to make him cum yet, and Sonic felt his own fur rise at the memory of his own humiliation, crying out, I'm going to cum, I can't hold it, I'm sorry! And part of him wanted to push Shadow cruelly over the edge like he would off a cliff, with both hands. He wanted to see the burn of embarrassment on Shadow's brilliantly flushed face, to give back just a fraction of the indignity he'd put Sonic through.

But Sonic wanted even more to fuck him. He'd never wanted this reversal so badly like he wanted it now, to the point that if Shadow turned around and called the scene off, took back control— Sonic would probably fight him. He'd say, no, and throw himself against Shadow. And he didn't pause to be disturbed by that train of thought. He instead gave into a sudden impulse. Once he was positive Shadow had regained enough control to not cum on the spot, he reared his hand back and with his own bared palm smacked it cross the brutally welted rear. After, he ran his rough, padded fingers across the hot skin under disheveled fur.

When he could finally trust his voice not to give out on him, he said, roughly, "Thank you," as he was back on Shadow again, his tail wagging, his breathing picking up. "Hold out for me— don't cum yet, that's my only order for you now."

Sonic wrapped an arm tight around his trainer's slim waist, his breath hot and heavy against a twitching black ear as his cock slid across his hole, open and ready for him.

Sonic wouldn't lie...he was slightly nervous. But his trepidation of how he'd fare on top was heavily outweighed by his overwhelming desire to do just that, make Shadow feel even half as good as he was sure he would feel. With the breather giving him the control he needed not to cum instantly, Sonic angled himself, a position he had not dreamed he'd ever be in while serving as a slave, and pressed against him.

"Let me in," he breathed, and the tip pressed past the tension of his body. "Let me in."

It wasn't like with the Prince, when he'd been so far gone and oversensitive that he'd barely comprehended what it was like. Now he felt every tensing muscle, every inch he sank into another body. It was like the very breath was being forced out of his chest, overwhelmed similarly to how he'd been when he'd been entered for the first time. Green as he was to the experience, he gave way to the uneven whimper that rumbled in his throat and he couldn't resist— he threw his hips the rest of the way so that he was fully buried with a low moan.

"Shadow," he breathed out, dragging his claws down Shadow's thighs and gripping him, gritting his teeth as every blissful twitch around his cock felt like it could be enough to push him over the edge. "Shadow— oh my god," he said, "It feels so good."

All Shadow could do was nod silently for fear of humiliating himself even more, taking a deep breath and then releasing it to force his body to relax for the length that was slowly opening him up so sweetly. Every inch until the heated skin of the back of his thighs met cool blue fur felt like pure pleasure striking inside, and he considered himself lucky he didn't cum the moment Sonic pulled him down the rest of the way.

They probably could've stayed there forever like that, mutually melting together with only the slightest movements bringing them closer to the edge they were trying to skirt around. Heaving chests and twitching cocks until one of them would give out and pull the other one into orgasm with them. Shadow strained as he twisted himself slightly to reach around, his hand sliding up around the side of Sonic's head to bring their faces closer so he could kiss him proper.

Brushing their lips together, Shadow purred sated and deep, the corners of his mouth quirking up briefly in the usual smirk he wore.

"You feel so good," He corrected, moaning softly afterwards and relaxing back down. It was the honest truth, and he hadn't expected the night so far to turn out like this if you'd asked him. But he was the farthest thing from disappointed, the late realization hitting him that he hadn't felt this way during sex in a long time, if ever. He'd already mentioned he didn't often indulge in self pleasure, but this in itself was supposed to be a lesson. Jet had suggested Sonic be on top during their impromptu threesome, so naturally the next course of action would be to make sure he was actually good at it.

And then he felt Sonic press into him harder and grind circles against his rear like he could push deeper inside him somehow, which had Shadow swallowing the excess of drool pooling underneath his tongue. Holy shit, was he good at it. The prince could probably do without the scratches down his skin or the punishment style foreplay, but it was good to know Sonic was capable of utilizing all that, too.

"You should consider... yourself lucky," Shadow reached a hand down to squeeze around the base of his length, still fighting to wane off that taut pressure in his gut that was left throbbing without release. If Sonic moved too fast, he'd either cum dry or end up begging again at this point. "...You're more special than they say." He didn't want to think about the double meaning of those words right now. Jet could do whatever he wanted as prince, but Shadow wasn't supposed to sleep with slaves in training, much less share anything like this with them. It'd never been an issue until those brilliant blue quills he'd had to clip down, or until he'd had his power challenged by a flash of those fangs he wanted to sink into his flesh.

Quite special, indeed.

Sonic, for his part, was doing his best to keep himself under control. But that was difficult. Shadow was exquisite under him, his shining black fur attractively rumpled and sweat slick. And even with his quills retaining that warrior’s sharpness— they were lax and lowered against him, no threat even with Sonic mounted from behind as he was. 

The kiss was a good distraction, at the very least. Whatever Shadow was saying was falling on uncomprehending ears. Shadow felt good; he gleaned that much. With a few experimental, shallow thrusts, Sonic determined himself safe from an early climax as he once again seemed to exceed insurmountable odds as he took hard control back over his body. 

“It’s—“ He pulled back, peering down long enough to watch his cock sink back in, disappearing into Shadow’s body. “It’s tight, Chaos, Shadow.” 

When his hips met Shadow, he felt the strident heat of his abused rear against his own fur and flesh, and briefly Sonic tilted his head away from Shadow’s face to lick over a folded black ear in silent apology. Working himself into a proper rhythm, this new role getting some used to, he was determined to wipe any trace of Shadow’s smugness away. He had the rough, eager movements of the inexperienced, and he was just as incapable of holding back his sounds on top as when he was on bottom. Every thrust was like a new smack across Shadow’s battered rear and thighs, the heat building instead of being relieved, even without the use of the crop. Sonic’s hips were still pronounced, having not filled out enough to smooth over their sharp edges, and Shadow felt them hitting him more poignantly than even when his own hands were gripping them.

Sonic had half a mind to reach down to tease Shadow’s cock, but he knew better. And besides, he was finding himself slightly overwhelmed even when it was him bottoming out versus Shadow inside him. It was all he could do to clutch Shadow’s waist and try and do the impossible; outlast Shadow.

“Shadow,” he moaned, pressing his cheek against the side of Shadow’s skull, moving recklessly fast. He would take advantage of every second he had in freedom to use Shadow’s given name over a title. Running a hand up the heaving belly and hard chest, clutching and tugging at the white fur there, he thought he didn’t mind Shadow calling him Sir. The idea, though, of Shadow calling him something like Master made his fur stand on end and his belly flip, uncertain why that thought had even crossed his mind. “Shadow, Shadow, fuck. It’s so good, I can’t stop—“ 

He was aware Shadow was perilously close, just as he was. It made him fuck Shadow harder, not gentler. He couldn’t slow down, couldn’t stop if his life depended on it. He didn’t have the kind of self restraint his stalwart trainer exercised. The idea of pulling out for any reason made his brain melt, and he pressed his belly against Shadow’s back, between his spines.

“How do you— how do you ever hold yourself back?” he gasped out, softer with a breathless little laugh against Shadow’s ear. His breath hitched and his pace faltered, falling out of rhythm briefly. “Shit, I’m close.” He growled, softly. “But I’m not coming before you.”

"It's effortless most of the time," Shadow gasped back, the conversation helping to pull him back in control of himself even if he was outwardly struggling. "But you like to make yourself an exception, chaos.." He swore at the end, everything resurging to the top and threatening to push him over.

Shadow almost laughed with him, or at least he had wanted to. It was moments like that where his heart was beating against his chest for entirely different reasons, strange and fluttering with admiration and a form of respect for the other hedgehog. How he challenged him in the weakest moments, refusing not only to submit in defiance but to anything he wanted to best out of simple things like fun or leisure.

If anyone deserved to be inside Babylon's esteemed dark and broody slave trainer, a mystery who mastered and made the concepts of desire and connection-- it was someone who respected Shadow but also disregarded his given power to see through him. Potentially to a core that was hidden away from anyone else in the world. Sonic was also someone he was learning just as much from by simply observing how he was. He admired his stubbornness just as much as he begrudgingly put up with it, and that included moments like now.

"I like that you, oh, gods. You take after calling my name." Shadow could pinpoint exactly why, but it also made Sonic feel more than what he should be. Not a pet, not even an owner in this scene, but more like a long term lover making up for all the lost time of years they hadn't spent together before meeting. He had no way to truly tell what was going on in Sonic's mind, but the very same word, title, was dangling on the tip of his tongue pondering if he'd say it outright. "What did you want me to call you when I cum..?"

His wrist ached from holding the same tension for too long, but he didn't dare trust himself enough to let his grip loosen around himself. He was far too close to orgasm for that, even if he wanted nothing more, Shadow starved off them both. Not yet.

It was far from easy, but it would be worth it. He still rocked his hips back against the uneven thrusts, more moans spilling out of his mouth as he tried to get back a hold on himself— keyword being tried.

"Fucking hurry, because fuck me I wanna cum on your cock so bad, please."

Blue ears pinned back as Sonic exerted himself. Words were becoming gibberish even in his own head, and he was afraid the next time he opened his mouth it would just be a torrent of utter nonsense.

Shadow, outright begging him now. Sonic thought striving to perform as an obedient pet was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but that was obliterated by the concentration it was taking not to cum from his words alone. Beckoning and salacious, reducing Sonic’s entire purpose to one singular point.

“Whatever feels good,” he managed, the words strained, his voice newly rough. “Whatever feels right— call me that.”

The truth was, Sonic wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face what he wanted to hear. He shoved his fate into Shadow’s hands, wanting to know what Shadow would say of his own free will. That, Sonic felt, would tell him so much about him. Whatever twisty logic made up the intricacies of Shadow’s mind— Sonic wanted to blast through it. He was taking a sledgehammer to Shadow’s defenses, beating down his walls. There was no slave here, no master of the dungeons. There was just whoever the hell they were, now.

Blue Phantom, ex-rebel; but did that describe him anymore? Was that accurate? Shadow, the Prince’s closest retainer and tamer of slaves. That didn’t mean anything to Sonic when it came down to it. Shadow squeezing his own cock and begging for him, getting off on getting whipped said a lot more to him than any title. Sonic grasped whatever purpose he felt he held in the moment, because his past sense of self had been successfully lost in translation.

Shadow felt Sonic’s hand around his own, feeling for his fingers. And then Sonic was ripping his hand away from his cock, pinning it to the bed forcefully. Where their fingers entwined, Sonic squeezed hard, so that Shadow was left vulnerable and without defense against oncoming climax.

“Then cum for me, Shadow,” he hissed just before he buried his teeth into the back of Shadow’s shoulder, his cock throbbing — dangerously close — inside him.

Even if he hadn't bitten him or finally broken skin, the tang of copper stinging onto Sonic's tongue from the force— the hand alone would've been enough, and Shadow felt his body seize up uncontrollably. The most embarrassing thing was the mild sound of his spine popping with the next arch of his back, Sonic's cock inside him pushing ridged against everything else that wanted to wrap the tightest heat around the pulsing length as he followed the best set of orders a master could ask from a slave— to finally cum, a show of shared passion that made both of them lightheaded with desire.

Everything went at light speed and slow motion all at once, his orgasm hitting him mercilessly as he was frantic to say something. Sonic had told him to go with his heart when it came to titles, something Shadow couldn't stress enough as a trainer. If they were sticking with this scene, he should call him master, no time less appropriate for such. But... Sonic hadn't even sincerely called him that, nor Jet as far as he knew. It was supposed to be what was right, but it felt... wrong.

The problems Shadow dealt with when Sonic was just around or directly interacting with anyone could all be whittled down to just one thing; equality. It was one thing to strive for the master and slave dynamic Shadow was so passionate for, taking it upon himself to rewrite the 'by the book' standards for those who serve for their owners. But Sonic..

Sonic, Sonic, Sonic, Shadow wasn't sure if he was just thinking that, or crying out his name out loud now. His hearing blanked out and left him deaf, lust and overwhelming pleasure taking over his senses for the moment. He could barely put a cohesive thought together, the only thing he was mildly aware of was the jolt of his hips thrusting forward in attempts to release into something, only to meet nothing but the mattress below. White specks and flicks danced across the blacking corners of his vision, visualizing into wet, hot streaks of cum that caught in his belly and chest fur before the lot of it splattered and soaked into the sheets.

Sonic was difficult to train, because that's just who he was. He could play the part only when he wanted to, but the nights of laughter, shared dinners, conversations and games didn't make him feel like an accompanying servant or even the fulfilling companion he should be. He didn't even feel like another royal in the palace, no power to hold over others that had gone to his head and made him a bit conceited.

Shadow bit his tongue as he whimpered pathetically, the lightest thrust that pushed past the tightness of his body prolonging how long he came. Clear fluid oozed out of his tip with no more release to spare. Cotton pushed out from either side of his claws digging into the poor mattress, damaging the bed instead of something that could've likely been Sonic's back, had he been turned around.

No, Sonic had worked his way up to someone who felt like he'd known forever in the few months they'd spent together, or a lover he'd had a connection to in a past life, perhaps. He was troublesome, he was tiring, just as much as he had seen him persevere through whatever Shadow would throw at him. Cunning as the first day of his capture, and he had seen it with his own two eyes how the fire in Sonic's eyes burned with determination for what he'd thought was his surefire escape.

Now, he wasn't so sure what it was. But that same spirit had never so much as flickered out, and if life was a battlefield, he knew Sonic would be the type to die with his heart where he wanted it to be, no matter the consequence otherwise, no matter who would try and make him submit. No matter how hard any master would try and make him submit. He couldn't help but respect him for that.

Sonic had told him to call him whatever had felt good, what felt right. So that was exactly what he did, and as soon as feeling returned to his limbs he pulled his arm back to hold Sonic on top of him as close as he could again, forcing out an estranged growl of all things.

"Mine," Shadow seethed, his backside aching in the best of ways as he threw his lower body up against Sonic's weight pressing down into him, a spring of near-delirious tears gathering at the far corners of his muzzle. "You're mine."

Mine.

Sonic couldn’t believe the words he was hearing. Just as he could hardly believe any of it; the fact of Shadow’s well-hidden masochism, his desire to take pleasure this way rather than give it, the deafening and succulent chorus of Sonic he was almost shouting into the mattress as he came, perhaps without even realizing he was doing it.

Shadow’s body became a vice grip of the most delightful kind, a strained cry of yes! wrung out from him. He gave in of himself, almost going blind with it. He was squeezing Shadow’s hand with a crushing force, his other arm wrapped tight around his waist, keeping him close and largely immobilized except to fuck himself back against him.

“Yours,” he gasped out. “Yours, fuck—“ It wasn’t that he was mindless when he said it. In fact, Sonic’s head felt clearer than it had in months. He understood. He saw. Even if that possessive growl, sharp as a knife’s edge, should have disturbed him, it didn’t. It was so much more than my pet.

Sonic should have dismissed it as trainer’s arrogance. He should’ve reminded him that he was Prince Jet’s. He should’ve said, I belong to no one. But he leaned into that hand that reached back to grip him possessively by the ear, the closest part of him Shadow could reach and moaned.

Everything narrowed down to the point where they were connected. His whole body trembled, finally free to stop holding back. His head tilted so he leaned into that sharply possessive grip. It felt almost anguished, almost angry, almost…sorry, and Sonic couldn’t explain why or how he felt all that if he was asked. He could just feel every unspoken emotion, even before he noticed the wet salt of unshed tears. He licked over the broken skin of the bite at Shadow’s shoulder.

“I’m coming, Shadow, Chaos, I’m coming—“

Coming inside Shadow was not something he thought he’d ever do, and everything in his mind screeched to a halt as he did just that. It was different from coming against the sheets, or on his own belly. His hips stuttered and fell out of rhythm as he spilled inside.

His weight fell heavily on top of Shadow. Though being behind him like this should have felt less intimate than being face to face, he somehow felt closer than possible this way. Every inch of them from hips to chests were pressed flush together, sweaty fur mingling together.

Mine, he thought in return, though this he didn’t dare say out loud. He thought of his cum, filling Shadow, spilling out of him, and purred contentedly against Shadow’s back, thinking, you’re mine now, too.

Shadow shuddered out a final moan, that lasting feeling of release shooting up into him perfectly siding with the rewarded exhaustion he felt. What was even more satisfying was the neediness in Sonic's words, and even though his body ached around the length buried inside him, their dynamic didn't change with their swapped positions in the slightest.

He'd got to hear Sonic say it essentially unprompted. He might as well have called him his master.

"Gods, there's so much," Or at least it felt like it. Shadow weakly laughed, a poor decision that ended up with some of Sonic's cum dripping out around his cock and down his inner thighs. "You might've enjoyed that more than I did, and I..." His hand was back where it was originally, trying to intertwine with Sonic's fingers again now he was done clutching the sheets within an inch of his life.

"Chaos. I never doubted you would fail, but.. you were far from lacking. You really ran a number on me, hm?" Shadow peeked his head back best he could, a low hum of a purr vibrating from deep in his chest with his back pressed up against Sonic's own.

Now that the threat of climax wasn't on the very edge of presenting itself to Shadow, the resonating feeling of aching pain was shooting up his nerves. The inflammation of irritated skin, the swell of future bruises discoloring the abused muscle underneath dark fur. He would absolutely have to heal himself, but he'd like to keep a mark or two if he was to continue being selfish.

"The Prince surely doesn't have to worry about a thing," Shadow shrugged, reassured in his main 'lesson' tonight. As long as Jet didn't make him watch. The potential idea of voyeurism wasn't the thing to squick him out, but now he was certain that since he knew now what it was like to take the cock he'd love to tease, ignore, and overwhelm with pleasure until it just couldn't handle it anymore, he wasn't sure if he would be impervious to jealousy of all things if he had to watch someone else have it, now.

Putting that thought away to deal with later, Shadow tested their physical connection by gently swaying his hips from side to side, feeling that liquid warmth spill deeper and deeper inside him. He could wring this out, just a little longer.

"How would you like me to clean this up, sir..?"

The purring against Shadow’s back was interrupted by a quiet groan as he was jostled lightly, falling heavy and trying not to grow entirely limp on top of him. He felt more thoroughly wrung out after a single orgasm than he ever had before, except perhaps his very first time on bottom. He could hardly make out what Shadow was saying, tired blue ears twitching slightly to catch the words.

It was somehow possible for him to blush still, even while inside his body. Sonic made a soft sound against the back of Shadow’s shoulder, and he decided it was time to end things. Settling a hand on Shadow’s hip, he pushed Shadow away from him at the same time he pulled back, exhaling sharply at the wet sound that seemed extraordinarily loud in the quiet of the room. Sonic sat back on his heels, resting his hand on top of Shadow’s abused buttocks, just above his tail. He was a little fascinated by the lewd way the small entrance flexed and pushed his cum out— and flushed hard, recalling what Shadow had told him before about ownership and spilling inside.

Mine. Shadow had called him that. Was it possible to claim someone, even when dripping with their cum? Had Sonic been thinking about this all wrong? What did that say about what Shadow was to him?

Sonic turned Shadow over until he was on his back, and the trainer was faced with his wayward slave kneeling over him, green eyes nearly pitch in the low light of the dungeon and pupil blown wide with lust. Sonic noticed the faintest glisten of unshed tears at the corner of Shadow’s eyes, reflexive tears Sonic himself had been at the mercy of controlling before. It changed everything about Shadow’s expression into something Sonic had never faced before. By some instinctual impulse, he leaned down and gently licked away the salt of moisture gathered above his cheek.

It was an uncivilized, barbaric, peasant-gesture that was not practiced by anyone of decent birth or social standing. It wasn’t a major behavior, but Sonic wouldn’t know that it was an expression no snobby noble in the palace would let him live down. For him — for his people — it had been an acceptable gesture of comfort. After, he let himself fall chest to chest with Shadow, a hot, sweaty mess of matted fur and disheveled quills. And he hadn’t even been whipped.

“How?” he murmured, deciding to cling to their reversal for as long as he was allowed. With a hum, he rolled off of Shadow and onto his back beside him. How far would Shadow let him push this— let Sonic humiliate him? Would someone like Shadow even be humiliated? Green eyes stared over at him, and one hand reached over to swipe a rough, padded thumb across his lips. “Clean me with your mouth.”

Shadow wheezed lightly as Sonic's weight rolled off of him, the lightest flick of his tongue swiping the small gather of tears that hadn't spilled yet a strangely sweet gesture. Soft, careful, compassionate. A lot of firsts were being had tonight, between the both of them. He'd wanted to think more on it until he'd received his next order, and who was he if not to oblige? His own tongue darted out to lap over Sonic's thumb when they grazed over his maw, a small taste of what was to come.

He couldn't quite mask the wince of pain stinging up his backside as he sat up, quickly turning back around to face Sonic as he carefully crouched himself low over him. "As you wish," Shadow said, like how he'd reply to Jet commonly, dutifully with respect. Shadow straddled himself over Sonic first, tiredly settling their hips together as he leaned over to start 'cleaning'.

It would be a lie to say he was humiliated, but the embarrassment was impossible to avoid as Sonic's own spend inside took to gravity and dripped out of him back onto matted peach fur. Warm thick droplets trailed down from his lower belly to between blue legs as Shadow moved down, the flat of his tongue dragging against Sonic's neck and then his chest in proficient, repetitive motions to gather as much mess as he could in an area before moving on.

Inch by inch, Shadow licked and kissed Sonic's pelt clean, looking up at him with a lazily suggestive gaze while he followed the line of his sternum to the cinch of his waist with his mouth. Now he was getting to where the real mess was, his pace slowing way down to take extra care of any spots that were slicked up until the fur brushed clean against his tongue. Shadow lowered himself carefully off the edge of the bed so his head could comfortably reach and rest between Sonic's legs, step by step making sure he was uninterrupted in his work.

Shadow let his tongue and mouth do most of the work, picking up cooling strands of cum off Sonic's fur and making sure he saw the white against pink, kissing areas clean and swallowing what remained without complaint. The salty taste of sweat and bitterness meant nothing for the exchange of watching those green eyes widen and dilate for him, because of him. Spontaneously he'd brought up his hand, two fingers collecting a gob of release up off of Sonic's inner thigh and he'd licked those clean as well, all for show before returning to finish the job.

Once there wasn't a trace of anything asides from Shadow's saliva on his thighs, he panted a hot and heavy breath over what he'd been saving for last. He'd been characteristically near silent this entire time, but now Shadow took it upon himself to take a moment to wet his lips before licking a torturous stripe up the half-hard cock that had just been inside him minutes ago, that devilish tongue teasing at the tip as if making sure there was truly nothing else left to give.

"Tell me how it was," Shadow pressed his lips up against the shaft, humming quietly. "Being inside me. Did I do well for you..?" He knew he did. He'd just wanted to throw the shamelessness of what he'd asked for back in Sonic's face, explicitly bringing them both to face it. "I was so full..."

Sonic let his head tip back and he exhaled harshly, hazy green eyes watching Shadow from under his lashes. He should've seen this coming. And perhaps he did. Sonic raised his arms above his head to grip lightly at the sheets, letting his thighs fall apart as Shadow attended him.

Attend me. That thought made Sonic's heart skip in his chest as he watched Shadow's tongue clean him, feeling it slide over his oversensitive prick.

"It was good," he breathed, brazen and honest in a way that he could only be after sex. Stripped bare. Raw. "It was tight." A hand descended to settle itself between Shadow's ears, a thumb stroking over his forehead. His cock jumped slightly, his breath hitching. His body had potential to strive for more, but he lied back instead and let exhaustion seep into his limbs. "I didn't expect..." He paused, released a quiet breath of laughter, and continued. "I didn't expect you."

It was a generic statement, but it held so much. It could've meant anything. The muscle of Sonic's thigh jumped and he closed his teeth with a click and swallowed down a whine as his cock throbbed weakly, that talented tongue torturing him sweetly. His green eyes never left Shadow's face, even as his lids fluttered.

"You look good under me," he said, and petted over one black ear as his hips twitched slightly. "And you? How was it for you?" He smiled a little. "I don't mean me, specifically. But...in general. Not being on top for once."

Shadow smirked back at him, being bold enough to try and work Sonic into a potential second round against his common sense. He bobbed his head down, wrapping his lips down around the base of Sonic's cock and swallowed around it, pulling back up and catching anything his tongue might've missed while lapping up around the thing. The way it pulsed forward tiredly in his mouth was cute, but he didn't persist when the exhaustion won out over another feverish bout of fucking.

Shadow circled back to the idea of stamina in his head. It was funny, how usually Sonic would be the one begging for just one more, determined to feel that initial burst of orgasm again before settling down, but now he had seen just how tiring topping could be. It made Shadow snort in slight amusement out his nose, and he left Sonic's tip with an audible pop while he sucked and drew off it.

"Hmm," He pondered out loud, climbing back up over Sonic on the bed. The reigns were being handed back to him now, and with a deep breath in and out one last time he fell over next to Sonic, positioning himself like usual to not ruin all the hard work he just ran his jaw sore for— but to also let that white fluff on his chest act at Sonic's personal pillow again, ruffled as it was for all he had gone through. Shadow waited until they both shuffled into a more usual position before mindlessly running his hand over those blunted quills, solidifying Sonic's role return as pet.

"I'm glad I suggested it. I believe we both.. learned a lot, from that." He laughed, a trickle of cum pushing down the underside of his tail accidentally. "I honestly thought I would have a little more tact going into it, but I suppose that's normal for handing over absolute control. I said before I don't ever really indulge myself often. I think I'll be satisfied for a good while, after that." He failed to mention how he'd most likely think about it from time to time from now on, if the mood ever struck him again.

Or the inherent possessiveness he was coming to feel over Sonic would manifest in helpless jealousy, in need of any outlet he could grasp at. That.. hadn't been planned for, none of this had— and it had Shadow kicking himself mentally, shoving those feelings way down so he could work through them on his own time if repressing them wasn't enough. Sonic was practically his in every way but legal, and the question he wanted to ask Sonic laid thick with treason in his mind.

He'd already gotten his answer, anyways. Yours, the word rung and echoed in his ears. Yours.

Shadow grit his teeth, and perhaps he looked troubled for a single second before that usual, confident and calm demeanor washed over him again. "I saw what I wanted to see from you. I hardly had to guide you at all, through that. If I really was your slave, I think you'd be an excellent master." It was a compliment, a hidden pass at him if the circumstances had been any different. Then came the critique. "So you obviously understand how this works. I expect you to act so, at least in public and guest view. Do you think you're capable of that?" Shadow looked over at him, the rest silent but heavily implied.

Would you do that much, for me?

Sonic's eyes had closed as he settled against Shadow's chest, feeling the outside world pressing in. The world was realigning itself once more, their roles set neatly back into place. Except it didn't feel neat. They felt...altered. If before they had been perfectly placed jigsaw pieces, now there was a tooth in each of their shapes missing. They could be settled into place by banging them flat, or else sit haphazardly atop the rest of the puzzle.

He sighed quietly and deeply, a smile tugging at his lips. He'd overwhelmed Shadow. He'd impressed him. More importantly, he'd pleased him. This satisfied something in Sonic that he knew, instinctively, had nothing to do with their standing as master and pet.

Opening his eyes, he tilted his head up to meet his gaze, sitting halfway up. He observed Shadow's face, as though to memorize the features there. He'd felt for a moment what it would be like to bed Shadow as an equal. If they'd met under different circumstances...Sonic was sure Shadow must have thought of it, too.

He wanted to cling just slightly more to this moment, before he had to give it up.

"You should indulge more often," said Sonic. He was toeing the line dangerously toward treason, speaking aloud what Shadow felt but had the tact to keep to himself. But Sonic didn’t want this to be the only time this happened. If Shadow asked for the whip again, Sonic would give it. If Shadow tired of him, tired of mastering him and asked to submit instead, Sonic would take control of him. If Shadow craved this equalizer between them, in the privacy of the dungeons, Sonic would not disappoint him.

And giving into some impulse, Sonic leaned down and pressed their mouths softly together. He lingered there for long moments, and pulled back again. The moment was leaving, as it was always meant to. Shadow was no longer his slave, or his equal. Shadow was his master, again.

And the expected post-lesson lecturing was back, as well. It was enough to make Sonic smile, for once.

"I'm capable of anything," he said, with total and charming arrogance, "Master."

Shadow suddenly paused, audibly gasping out of pure reaction. He should've expected Sonic to throw that one at him when he least expected it, but it made too much sense for him to come back after dominating Shadow to happily snuggle up next to him and dote like the loyal pet he needed to be. Regardless, that was the first time any title had sounded so effortless and genuine from him, as well as being the first time Sonic had called him anything other than 'sir'. He would get to relish the stunned look of disbelief on Shadow's face while it lasted.

Master. He had called him master. It was the standard title, socially acceptable with everything it meant behind it. The implication of ownership, belonging to another that Shadow had never cared to feel so personal about. Master was in his job title, for chaos' sake. People of all ranks call him that, from the slaves he trained to royals visiting around the world, even Jet when he had to be formal.

From day one, when he had informed Sonic of how to address him, he had never picked 'master' like any self respecting rebel would. Always doing the bare minimum to get by, fighting it all by tooth and nail and rejecting the idea of not just being the Prince's property, but everything that came with such a responsibility. But it wasn't that Sonic had lost respect for himself, or gave up on what gave him the ideals of another rebel against Babylon. With his head tucked up against Shadow's chest and their bodies keeping each other warm by wanting to keep close, he knew it was out of respect earned.

Shadow was getting through to him by breaking nearly every rule he'd set in place for them both. That wasn't what bothered him.

Following Sonic's suggestion to let himself indulge, he took his last bit here by tilting Sonic's chin up by nimble fingers, chasing after another kiss. This is what bothered him, the way their interactions felt so personal, how his heart fluttered when their tongues shyly met for the first time over again as if they didn't know each other well, or the deeply gutted feeling of belonging and trust Shadow knew they both felt. Alone in the dungeons, just individually them.

Finally pulling away, Shadow knocked their foreheads together while they both caught their breaths.

Capable of anything. Except for maybe one thing. Just trying to think of Sonic had he been submissive from the beginning, in line with all the other slaves who saw the luxury of being taken care of and leading a contented life, or sought out a master after years of loneliness that were eager to have a home, or even just the self preservation of avoiding harm being enough drive to be open to a new way of life and living-- no, he wasn't capable of that. If he had done any of that, Shadow wouldn't be in the predicament he was, or would have to face the consequences of showing favor to a slave that didn't belong to him. It was almost enough to make him laugh again.

"You've already done the impossible," Shadow murmured against his lips, pulling Sonic close over him and holding him tight. "Show me more."

Chapter Text

Babylon Palace. Extravagant with towers that winded up high into the sky, balconies far out of peasant reach. Home to Prince Jet far too early, the young hawk given an entire kingdom to rule over far before any proper age of coordination or maturity.

At least he wasn't as awful as his father.

When Tangle had heard of the king's passing, she was far too young to truly celebrate it. All she knew is that her elders were overjoyed, and that a very bad man was now gone. The queen wasn't in the picture either for much longer after that, grief-stricken and weak. How Babylon didn't fall during that shaky period of youthful leadership astounded her now as an adult, just as much as looking up these high pillars did.

Just because birds could fly didn't mean they were above everybody else, just because they might literally be above everyone in the sky. She huffed and doubled down on her inner thoughts. The Prince might not be as war-hungry or bloodthirsty as his dad had been during his reign, but he was still a massive jerk. Greedy in nature, and simply ignorant towards the lower class below. Slavery ran thick in Babylon still, mercenaries and traders treated like guests for feeding into the system.

Like many rebels, Tangle would much rather have a free death than a bound life.

So that night when the sun set pass the oceans of sands, the usual dessert heat dropping into the dark cold, the resistance would make their move.

Clothed in black and her tail swaying closely behind, Tangle leapt from bush to bush as she approached the back of the palace. The luckiest thing was how the old Captain of the guard had been retired down, a bulky albatross promoted to take his place. So loyal to his king, he was easily distracted by whatever diversion the decoys in their team threw in front of him, creating minutes of gaps in security for their rescuer groups to slip on by.

Herself leading one of them, groups snuck through the open mapped courtyards and gardens before ducking inside the doors. Dimmed lights and torches lined every other pillar, the halls long and daunting for their escape. There was no going back now. They needed to find the catacombs that led to the slavekeeping quarters.

Even while it was the dead of night, perhaps breaching closer to early morning, they kept quiet once they found the staircase that turned from polished tile to drab stone the farther they descended. Their surroundings told it plain and blunt; they were in the right place. Splitting her group into individuals, they made quick work of the outside locks to chambers and cells to release and collect new slaves and captured innocents alike.

Picking the next lock to another room over, Tangle slowly creaked the heavy wood open and peered inside.

"Don't be afraid," Was her soft greeting, fitting her lockpick back in her satchel. A frail looking wolf girl, curled in on herself on the poor excuse of a cot. "We're here to free you. Come on," Tangle nodded in the dark, arms out and open for comfort. "Follow me. We're gonna get you outta here, what's your name?"

She'd been left here on her own for days.

So far, the worst that had happened was the hedgehog that had written up her papers. She'd remained stalwart, stubborn. It was difficult to ease words out of her, and Shadow only received basic information; weight, height, species, and Shadow's best estimate of her age and origin. In the end, she wasn't much more cooperative than Sonic had initially been for him. He'd also gotten her name.

"Whisper," said the she-wolf, quietly. Her eyes peered open in the darkness of the little room she resided in. Any and all trepidation she might have initially felt was eradicated as her big ears tilted forward, her nose twitching. With a jerk, she shot up out of the cot, and it was immediately apparent to Tangle that this wolf was no mere slave.

In fact, she wasn't a slave at all. She hadn't even been fitted for a collar.

"You're Resistance," Whisper gasped, not minding her bare feet on the cold stone, or that her usual garb was stripped. Even protected as her body was by thick fur, she still hadn't been there long enough to grown accustomed to the feeling, particularly when faced with a fellow rebel. Whisper's ear twitched as she glanced to the door behind the lemur, and she whispered with urgency, "I didn't expect anyone to come for me. We have to hurry."

She knew how these raids went. She'd been an asset on many of them in her lifetime, and so she let Tangle lead the way. It would be vital to let someone actually operating the reconnaissance to take charge, even if Whisper hadn't worked on a team since—

"Are there others that you're trying to save?" Whisper asked breathlessly as they ran, silently down the dark corridor of the dungeon, making their way up and out toward the mouth of the entrance. No guards within them, only Master Shadow, who didn't appear to be around. Whisper's heart thudded in her chest. Escape was within grasp. Not even that bastard jackal would succeed in enslaving her. Now if only she could find the red wolf she'd been traded as payment for...

"The Prince's slave," Whisper said suddenly, keeping her voice down as they navigated the halls, Tangle pausing on the way to search for other slaves. "The Blue Phantom is here. He helped me— we have to get him out of here too--"

Though they'd successfully avoided colliding with the fallen bodies of the guards posted outside, in Tangle's overexcitement, the heavy metal door to the underground dungeon slammed shut behind them with a deafening clang! It was loud enough to echo throughout the entire hall, if not half of the entire wing. Whisper's heart leapt into her throat.

"He'll have heard that— please, we have to hurry."

"The Blue Phantom is here?!" was Tangle's hushed reply back, though their stealth was falling apart by the passing seconds. "Maybe we can find him, though this place is huge. We just gotta keep running, okay?" She grasped Whisper's hand tight within her own, the end of her tail pulling the cloak around her neck loose so she could swoosh it over her newfound partner for comfort. She looked like less of a slave, that way.

They booked it down the tiled halls, the noise spiking high as guards came to alert around them. Turning her head sharply, Tangle gave up on stealth entirely when both her recruits and rescues had ran deeper into a hall that should've been their exit. Instead, it was blocked with guards, and intricately designed concrete walls that only let their potential freedom peak through the shapes and grown garden vines.

This was no longer a mission that they needed to keep their heads low on. Babylon Palace had been invaded, and it was time to officially call an attack.

"The people of these lands revolt against the bullshit hierarchy that keeps us caged! We are not your pets to domesticate, and we will die free with our families! We are the Resistance!"

She screamed it at the top of her lungs, the sounds of swords and weapons alike unsheathing from both sides before the cries of battle overcame them next.

Yanking a spear from a guard's hands, Tangle twirled it around her hands before tossing it to the closest companion nearby— Whisper.

"Take this, you look experienced. Lucky me, huh?" The lemur turned her back against the other girl's, a snarky little grin on her face even though it was clear she was stressed. "Name's Tangle, by the way. Nice to meet you, Whisper! Uh, I got your back, but I hope you fight good!" Tangle reached for the double daggers around her belt, her stance tensed in a fighter's position.

Back down underground, it was the unprecedented slam of the dungeon's door rattling the stones in the walls that caused Shadow to stir. Black ears perked up first, raising his head from his desk as he caught his bearings. How could he have dozed off..?

Squinting down at his work, Shadow scowled at the trail of scribbled and smeared ink that had transferred from his pen to over his desk and some splotches on his glove. He had been transcribing papers for the newest group of slaves, files and data to be collected... and there was something warm on his lap.

From his seat, his other arm had rested heavy over the top of Sonic's head, fallen limp in mid-pet slumber. He had gotten so relaxed, he supposed...

Though he wasn't sure of the time of day, but by the cold creeping in it wasn't daylight. And the sound of yells and many footsteps above him raised his concerns, and his quills with alarm.

Shaking Sonic awake off his lap, Shadow stood up nervously.

"Sonic," He called his name seriously, listening out still for any other sounds. "Sonic, I need you awake. We're in trouble." It sounded like an attack, and while he was just thankful his office hadn't been raided, that would've been the least of his concerns.

"Sonic, the Prince."

He didn't bother leashing the other hedgehog, words short and urgent enough for him to follow close.

Shooting up the stairs, Shadow wiped the sleep tenderly out from between his eyes. He needed to prioritize Jet's safety first and foremost, and after that he would deal with the apologies to whatever guests that were here this night…

"...Slinger, love."

Mimic nudged the edge of his beak against his pet's shoulder, his tentacles still wrapped around his property tight. Considering the whooping and scuffling he'd heard from outside their door, it was best to be alert.

"Wake up, dearest. Our vacation might've just come to an end."

And it might permanently if we stay here, was the implication behind the rest.

Mimic was no stranger to the sounds of battle, and even if it had been awhile, he knew that type of stuff was engraved deeply into his kitten. The palace had clearly been compromised, though it was amusing to think about. What plucky group of rebels was it this time that thought they could interrupt the peace?

Slinger came awake near instantly under Mimic’s hands, snapping quickly out of his slumber, only blinking blearily for some seconds under him — just a moment’s breath where he stared bewildered up at Mimic — before his body was responding automatically. He rolled out of bed with his master, rubbing at his eyes as the last of sleep vanished the moment the reality of what was happening hit him.

A full scale raid. Such a thing had never been attempted directly on Babylon’s Capitol before, right in the royal palace. It was too fortified, too inconvenient for outsiders to navigate. Even the uppermost levels of the spiraling structure were heavily modified to resist aerial attack, designed with traditional avian Babylonian offense in mind. It made the walls virtually impossible to scale, and meant only ground attacks could even be attempted. But then, it was so ostensibly guarded that no rebel group had ever attempted it. So how…?

The ‘how’ didn’t matter. Slinger was up on his feet and following Mimic’s footsteps, the rush of adrenaline sobering Slinger in seconds as the door to their bed chambers swung open. It was dangerous to go out, but it was foolish to imprison yourself in a room with only one viable exit. Even with rebels storming the halls, they stood a better chance of escape this way.

It was simply bad luck that the fight happened to move right into this wing when Mimic and Slinger spit themselves out into the corridor from where they came. The battle was moving like a wildfire, flames in the form of expertly trained Resistance fighters stopping here and there to cause as much damage as they could now that their cover was blown. Slinger was well aware of this tactic. It had just never been so brazenly attempted in the very heart of Babylon’s palace before.

The fight was on them.

Masters and pets who were used to dignified sloth and carelessness afforded by the excellent royalty-standard guards now ran in panicked twos and fours. Slaves who had no training whatsoever fell at the first confrontation, terrified and screaming. These were palace slaves; they had no alliance to the Resistance the way the majority of the country did. They were afraid, clutching to their masters and mistresses. Every so often, a noble became the victim of the bolt of an arrow to the throat or head, though the guards were their main targets. The slaves, even less equipped than their owners, sometimes got in the way.

Slinger tried to shout in warning as a female pet, as if mad with hysteria, threw herself at her mistress to save her from the stroke of a sword— and fell. She folded soundlessly to the tiled floor, a motionless heap of silky bed clothes. The rebel who had made the blow swore, violently, and similarly cut down the wailing mistress, angry that there was no slave to be saved for his efforts.

It left Mimic and Slinger as the last pair in the corridor, and the new primary targets as the guard numbers dwindled around them. The image of the pet dying for her mistress burned itself into Slinger’s mind, as he grabbed the dagger belonging to the body of a guard near his feet. Lightning fast, as if Slinger had not gone without fighting in well over a year.

Slinger wasn’t the other pet. When he moved to protect Mimic from the gleaming edge of a rebel’s blade, he didn’t get cut down himself. The rebel fell to his knees with a wet choke, the dagger cutting a crude red mouth over his throat. Slinger didn’t celebrate the killing.

“Take this,” said Slinger, tossing the bloodied blade to his master before he turned instead to pilfer what he really wanted from the fallen fighter. Strung to his back, a plain but well made, familiarly forged bow and arrows.

This was Slinger’s element. Rather than panic in the midst of utter chaos, Slinger calmed when armed with the right weapon for his abilities. There was no time to admire the craftsmanship of the bow, only enough time to filch an arrow for himself and turn on a dime, already drawn.

There was no target within distance that would survive with Slinger armed. Though he wasn’t a close combat fighter, his keen eyes made his sharpshooting the one thing his enemies tried to prevent him from gaining enough distance to kill with. Slinger kept away those at the appropriate distance, while Mimic could easily handle whoever had come too close within range for Slinger to pick off. The kind of fighting neither of them had done in ages. It came again so naturally, now. As if they were back to being equals— allies in the field, long before Slinger’s enslavement.

The first blood came with a sharp, grating hiss of pain that likely would’ve downed any other pet who had taken a hit. A lucky arrow from an opposing Resistance archer, embedded shallowly in his arm. It had luckily missed anything vital.

“Fuck—!” shouted Slinger, and reached to find his arrows depleted entirely. Glancing down, where blood trickled thick and hot down his arm, he only spared a second before reaching for the protruding arrow and pulling it free with a sharp yank. The groan of pain was muffled between his teeth, but he wasn’t dissatisfied; he had one more arrow.

If another arrow let loose, it could’ve very well hit Mimic at this range. Slinger stepped bodily before his master, arm drawn back. There was perhaps a little outrage kindled in him now, the lashing of the pride of his past to have a hit like that landed on him. It made enduring the pain through the strain of drawing the bow worth it to see his own mark land perfectly when released; not an arm, but the throat, before another lucky shot could take him or Mimic out.

He didn’t pay mind that he was killing Resistance members. He couldn’t pay mind to it if he wanted to fight effectively. All Slinger thought about was survival.

Mimic was almost too confident as they strided out, a close eye on Slinger all the while saving his own skin from rageful rebels stupidly throwing themselves into the wages of war. It was unbecoming of a pet of any kind, but he could see something more ticking behind Slinger's eyes. It wasn't a delight in bloodshed like he might've had, but a thinned, pinprick focus that slitted his pupils down dangerously.

Something thumped behind his chest. Chaos, his kitten rivaled old goddesses of beauty incarnate when he looked like this.

He'd taken the knife from Slinger graciously, a soft smirk coming over his face as he covered both of them from any close attacker. It was nice to stretch his tentacles again, and there was a sense of pride to be taken in what a sharp shooter Slinger was with those arrows. A change of scenery around them and they might as well had been transported to the past.

How nostalgic, Mimic thought as didn't bother holding back now like he did back then, ruthlessly tearing into resistance member after resistance member that dare approach them.

His ears were attuned to the rapid sound of their breathing together and any footstep that came a bit too close, the scuttering of Slinger's now empty quiver against his fingers. Stepping forward, Mimic shot his tentacles out towards the closest fallen body he saw, stealing a new set from the archer's freshly set corpse and turning to return the favor for the dagger from before.

Mimic noticed Slinger's pain first. While the scent of blood was thick in the air, he felt stupid for not having noticed it before.

"Love, your arm, now."

There was a lack of concern in his voice; instead it was a snapped command in this moment. It was nothing life-threatening, but his master bit his anger back while he ripped a shred of drapery off his robes and tied it tight around Slinger's bleeding wound. He kissed it lightly when he was done with the knot, the blood seeping through the dark fabric and staining onto his lips.

"Whoever did this to you will pay their pound of flesh in hell."

Mimic licked his mouth clean before turning on his heel again, dangerously coiling up in preparations to shoot himself out and around the room now for a proper bloodbath. After a few beats, the room was still and silenced with death, the attempt to infiltrate the wing on this side of the palace a gruesome failure. It was time to move on.

Side by side, Mimic led them both towards the next hallways down, making quick work of any poor animal that thought a battle cry would call their friends to come save them. Mimic restrained his prey and cut through skin and bone with the same swipe of his knife, soft fur bleeding red onto the pristine tile floors while the bodies trailed off and piled up. They worked well as a duo as they always had, the flat palm of Mimic's hand sliding across the small of Slinger's back and holding him steadfast and close.

They weren't the only two in the room now with a sparing amount of grace and chemistry alike, on the other side of the battlefield. Up against a fallen tabletop, Tangle guarded Whisper from behind while the wolf proved her skill with a discarded crossbow. She was an impressive marksmen, the rush of adrenaline doing nothing to shake them both off when it came to in the moment war. The saddest thing was the amount of losses they were taking... not just from their side, but their mission falling apart with every sobbing cry of dying slaves.

Slaves who had been in this wicked system for so long, they'd given their lives for it. Pets who deliriously protected their masters who had put them through so much, who had objectified them and denied them an entire livelihood. Denied them families, denied them freedom and love. It made Tangle choke back down the lump in her throat, but that was exactly why she did what she did now. It was the loudest cry for help she could ever experience, watching that meaningless sacrifice time and time over again.

Peaking just over the tabletop again, Tangle bent back down below their wooden shelter and steadied herself.

"Whisper, they have a mercenary in here. Your ten o'clock. He's got his pet with him, I think. Be careful incase that slave jumps out to save him."

It was a fair warning as any. Tangle swallowed back her dry tongue as she watched Whisper load and prime her crossbow back again, a silent countdown between them to spring up.

Whisper's hair raised all over to hear that word; mercenary. Her first thought was that horrible jackal, Infinite, the one who'd kidnapped her from the compound she'd been staying out. Everyone else slaughtered around her, only her spared. 'You're useful to me,' the jackal had said with a wicked laugh in his voice. 'There is someone very interested in seeing you alive, indeed.'

Whisper's eyes met Tangle's. She felt moved by the lemur's presence in a way Whisper hadn't felt since her team was annihilated, and if Whisper's tears hadn't dried up years ago, she might've been moved to cry. She trusted her with such an overwhelming sense of relief, but she swallowed back the choked up feeling that rose up. She simply nodded. She'd taken out mercenaries before. Without being taken by surprise — with support in the form of Tangle at her side — she could do it again now.

The wolf leapt up in tandem with the lemur with a perfect timing that was reserved for allies who had known one another for years, not minutes. Everything bubbled up in her, every repressed feeling she'd been stoically pushing down all her life. The unfairness of it all, the injustice, the pointless bloodshed. She let this rage build up so that the string of the bow quivered from the force with which she drew it back, aiming for her ten o'clock, right for the head of that jackal bastard—

And it all crashed down over her.

"Mimic!" was Slinger's voice, shouting, automatic at the first glint of an arrow tip. Just as automatic was his own bow raising, drawn back. And stopped.

Blue eyes met light pink across the impromptu battlefield of the corridor. It wasn't Infinite, or the red wolf.

"Slinger," Whisper's voice gasped out, almost imperceptible. Tears she'd thought had dried long ago welled up now, disbelieving. "No."

Slinger's entire body was trembling. He was facing away so Mimic couldn't see his face from this angle— stricken and pale with horror. It was like seeing a ghost. Almost synchronized, their bows wavered and lowered an inch or so, just taking each other in. Here Whisper was, alive, when Mimic had said he'd killed them all. Mimic had killed everyone. His entire team, slaughtered in a night while Slinger had slept off an injury, drugged and unaware, never knowing that the friend he'd made in the Resistance had in fact been the threat curled up like a sidewinder right next to his bedroll. He'd seen the bodies, the blood, the horrible stench of death—

Except he hadn't seen Whisper's body. He'd been delirious and out of it, stumbling out of his tent with sleeping powder coursing heavy through his body, but he'd recalled the bodies of Smithy and Clair vividly with a horrifying clarity. But not Whisper. He'd only assumed she'd been elsewhere, cut down, evidenced by the blood all over Mimic.

"Whisper," Slinger said, his breath catching. Whisper seemed pulled out of her stupor by his voice, as if he'd somehow confirmed that he was him, in the flesh, alive. Not dead, like she'd surely assumed. Never in her life had she guessed this had been Mimic's real goal behind his creative, cruel ruse. To take her friend, kidnap him and make him into a slave. She raised her bow again, flashing her fangs.

"Don't!" Slinger cried, raising his own in response, though he knew...he knew he'd never be able to kill her. Even if she pierced his own body, he couldn't strike her back. He didn't even know if Whisper could kill him, after everything. "Don't do it, Whisper."

"Move aside!" she screamed, her voice louder and stronger than he'd ever heard it, his own heart falling to the floor at the anguish he felt there. "Slinger, move and let me kill him! Mimic is our enemy!"

"I can't," was his answer.

It wasn't shouted, or anger It was just...factual. A statement. His ears fell, trembling, but his aim did not waver.

"I'm sorry, my friend. I can't let you do that."

There was so much he wanted to say.

How are you alive? Where have you been? How did you escape death that night?

There was so much he wanted to say to Mimic. But now was not the time.

Just behind Slinger, Mimic himself had a few words of his own gathering in his mind. He wouldn't admit having been so genuinely caught off guard by the sight of someone familiar in this place, in such a position. He knew Whisper had run off that night, but perhaps it was foolish to count on the outside elements to finish his job for him. There was always a chance, and this was just his luck.

Though...

It would be easy to pull apart Slinger's fingers from the arrow. To hold the bow steady with his tentacles so their shot would not miss, to kill off their history just like that in a few sparing seconds. But.. there were clear consequences to that shown by the hesitation between both of them, and it did boost Mimic's pride a disgusting amount to see his pet protecting him with his life from an old friend.

He stayed behind Slinger, barely peeking out so he wouldn't jeopardize his safety here, but just enough to eye the standoff for himself. His hands placed themselves securely on the dip of Slinger's waist, trailing down his hips in minimal show.

"Just your enemy," Mimic said softly, though loud enough to hear between them. Inappropriately placed as it was, his thumbs barely brushed over Slinger's lower body, implying enough without words. "His master. I don't spare lives often, Whisper. Run now, run like you did before and I won't finish what I started all that time ago." It was flattering that Slinger was willing to put himself between them, but Mimic knew him well enough. He could practically feel the refusal oozing off Slinger's frame, that his drawn bow and arrow were empty threats. They were pleas, rather, asking Whisper to quietly stop.

The air grew heavy, oppressing for both pairs across they room while they flirted with the edge of snapping, life and death hanging in the balance.

"Whisper," Tangle nervously eyed between the two, knowing their window of strangely given grace was closing the longer they aimed at each other. "I don't know what history happened here, but—" A loud explosion and the sound of cracking concrete echoed through the high ceiling, along with the jeers of more voices closer to the gardens. That was probably minimal damage to the emotions running loose here, but they would deal with that later. When they were alive. Tangle was getting out of here with at least one survived prisoner.

"However you know them doesn't matter right now. Take his offer, we need to leave." Tangle tugged at Whisper's shoulder, backing up a few steps while still facing their enemy. There was no saving that poor cat, not with bloodstained tentacles crawling all around him. He was different than the usual untrained slave, giving up their lives to save their master. He hadn't given his life in the moment— he had given everything up to his master a long time ago.

"Whisper, come on!" She insisted, pulling at her arm again, fresh tears mirroring the ones she saw in her friend's eyes. This felt awful, but their lives came first, now.

Mimic rested his chin on Slinger's tensed shoulder, white eyes fixated on both girls as Tangle forcibly pulled Whisper back and away. He gently pecked over the side of Slinger's muzzle, his next words so quiet only his pet would hear.

"You may say goodbye, Slinger." There was a laced malice in his low voice, suggesting that he would not be so generous again if someone came between them a second time.

Slinger’s breath hitched sharply as he reconciled the feeling of Mimic’s possessive tentacles around him at the same time he was presented with a ghost of his past. His future, chaining him here.

Goodbye.

It was the goodbye he’d never had all that time ago. Goodbye to his past life, goodbye to the Resistance, goodbye to his only living teammate of the extinct Diamond Cutters.

As Tangle pulled her back, Slinger let his own weapon drop, hit with a sudden weakness that nearly made him want to drop it altogether.

“I’m sorry,” Slinger pushed out, his chest incredibly painful with the horrendous weight of the truth once more crashing over him in the same way it had when Mimic first betrayed them all. When he’d first awoken, stripped and disoriented. Partially declawed. “I’m sorry, Whisper. I’m so very glad to see you— but this is goodbye.”

It shouldn’t have felt like any kind of mercy to be given the moment, or to see his friend left alive to escape. It was by far the very least Mimic could afford him. But still he…he was grateful for it. Even as badly as it hurt, like twisting the knife that had long ago been embedded and healed over by scar tissue, springing new agonizing pain.

It was better than no goodbye at all.

“Slinger, no—!”

But Tangle was right. It was too late for them, and if they didn’t escape now, she risked giving up her own chance as well as having this girl killed for her efforts. Or worse.

Whisper dropped the bow and quiver with a clatter, weeping soundlessly as she let the lemur drag her into a new direction for escape. She kept her eyes trained on her old friend as long as possible — the tentacles of that deceitful, vile bastard around the ocelot, proprietary hands touching his body, responsible for death and enslavement — before he disappeared from her sight.

Whisper clasped a hand tightly over her mouth to muffle the sob she wanted to choke out. In her grasp, her hand tightened ever more on Tangle’s.