CHAPTER FOUR - PUNISHMENT OR PLEASURE

Seventeen years later ...

Anarion's hazel eyes flew open as he rocketed upwards in bed. His heart felt like it was trying to beat out of his bare chest. He ripped off the thin sheet that was sticking to his sweat-soaked skin and his hands thumped down onto the bunk beneath him. That was when he knew that he wasn't in the Council Chambers hallway, but instead on a space ship, ages away from that terrible day. The rumble of the U.S.S. Armageddon's engines vibrated up his arms. It felt like a cat purring under his palms.

He wasn't that grubby little child any more. He was Lieutenant Anarion Gray now. Twenty-seven years old and a Point for the Xaxon Ruin Jumper division of the Earthian military. The Jumpers were the ones to land on rediscovered Kin homeworlds and retrieve Tech. The Points were the first of these and at the front of the line all the way to the end. They were supposed to have ice water in their veins and normally Anarion did, but the dream ...

More like a nightmare.

He raised a shaking hand to his forehead and wiped away a layer of sweat. He wished he could wipe away as easily the memory of his mother's wide, frightened eyes and mouth opened in an 'o' of horror and hold onto the feeling of Lord Abaddon's arms powerful arms around him, stopping him from ripping out her throat, and his velvety voice whispering to Anarion that it would be all right.

Don't worry, tareth, I will fix it. I will make everything better ... The memory of Abaddon's voice hung in the air like frost.

But the image of his mother burned just as bright as the man that had won Anarion's heart before he was old enough to understand what was happening to him. He didn't know when he was ten that love for the Kin Commander would be like a dagger in his body, sinking deeper with each year.

Even though I haven't seen the damned man in seventeen years. Haven't heard his voice. Haven't caught a whiff of his scent. He promised to take me with him on the Abyss, but he didn't. Because I lost control. Because I revealed what a complete freak I am ...

Anarion shivered and looked across the room to his best friend and roommate's bunk, Nico Flavian. Even though the room was pitch black, he could see quite easily. The ability to see in the dark that he had told Lord Abaddon about had progressed until night and day had no meaning for him. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that the bunk was empty. Nico must be on duty in the Medbay. Though Anarion's nightmares had become old hat for the MedTek, Anarion hated waking him and seeing Nico stumble around in the dark to get to his side.

He waived one hand over the sensor chip planted in the back of his left hand and his cron appeared. There was still a few hours before they arrived at Talos IV. It's real name had been lost in the mists of time along with everything about the alien species existence until the last thousand years.

"The Kin's history has been snuffed out. All that remain are the homeworlds that we discover one by one," Sergeant Crosley had explained during his basic training five years ago.

"What happened to the Kin, sir? Why don't they remember their past?" Private Oakland asked. He was pale with a prominent Adam's apple and a splash of zits across his narrow face. The other Jumpers called him Straw, because he looked like someone had tried to suck him up through the top of his head.

Sergeant Crosley crossed his huge arms behind his back. He was only 5'8", but he was packed with muscle. He walked stiffly as if his own bulk kept him from moving easily. "That's the question, ain't it. If I knew that the Kin would be fucking bowing to me." He paced in front of the line of new Jumpers. "All we, and they know, is that something happened about a thousand or odd so years ago that blew their minds, leaving only those onboard their vessels alive, but wiping every other Kin out of existence."

"But if they don't remember anything, how do they know where to find their homeworlds?" Oakland scratched at a red splotch on his chin.

"The Kin search through old data on their ships and find likely locations for places they settled and then we go there. The Ruin Jumpers. We land our sorry asses on those goddamned planets and strip them of their Tech," Crosley said.

"But how is their Tech now still so much better than ours if they can't remember anything?" Oakland asked. His forehead was furrowed.

"The Kin bloody live forever, Oakland. Even you could figure some things out if you lived a thousand years," Crosley barked.

The other Jumpers snickered. Oakland turned a hot red and looked down at his booted feet.

"QUIET! All of you. Though Crosley's the unfortunate fuck who asked these questions, I bet some of you were wondering the same damned thing, but too pussy to ask!" Crosley roared. "Now listen up. There's a lot of crap out there about the Kin and their ways." His eyes slid to Anarion.

Anarion's shoulders stiffened. He was referring to Tranis, of course. The years hadn't wiped out his father's crimes even as Tranis had rotted in a maximum security penetentiary on Mars. Tranis' reputation had followed Anarion around like a shroud everywhere he went. But he'd ignored the jibes as he'd made his bones at Fort Railian and now was poised to become a Jumper, working with the Kin instead of against them for the Resistance.

"But that's what it is: crap. You're going to have to ignore all the hoodoo tales you've heard about them and listen up!" Crosley barked.

"Then it's true we're having a Kin trainer, sir?" Anarion asked.

Crosley's pale blue eyes pinned him in place. "That's right, Gray. And if I see anything but the same respect you fuckers show me towards him, all of you are going to have the shit beaten out of you. Jumping on a Kin homeworld isn't like just landing a spaceship on some heap of rock. If you even make it to the surface, past the Overworld Defense Grid, you'll then have the ground defenses to deal with. We lose on average one Jumper a mission. The likelihood is that ten of you are going to die in the next five missions."

The Jumpers looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes as if they could someone see who it was going to take the hit. Anarion stared straight ahead. He knew he would survive. He had to. He was meant to. He had to live and be damned successful, too.

"So the Kin cities are-- uh, no one's in them? Or -- ah, I mean, who's running the defenses?" Oakland asked. He tugged at the top of his uniform.

He's already sweating just thinking about going down on the planet. Why'd he sign up for this gig?

"The defenses are run by a variety of virtual intelligences. They switch on and go all nasty when anyone tries to even put their little pinky finger within the walls of one of the cities," Crosley said. "Getting past them and to the Central Command Center, there's one in every city, is your job. Once you get to the Triple C you need to hack the system and take it down."

"And that's just the beginning," a voice had come from the corner of training room.

Anarion turned his head and had caught sight of a gleaming black Teklan suit. His breath had froze in his throat. He saw long hair and a firm body coming into the light. Was the hair red? Were the eyes green?

Abaddon ...

But it hadn't been. The Kin trainer had pale blond hair and silvery eyes that flickered with humor and anger alternately.

"My name is Dorn Raneff. Follow my orders and live. Ignore what I say and ... well, you get the picture," Dorn said with a grin.

That was five years ago. Anarion thought he was going to hate the Kin trainer for not being Abaddon. He'd feared secretly that Dorn would hate him because of who his father was. But neither had been the case. Dorn had put Anarion through his paces. He pushed until Anarion's bones ground together, his heart was ready to give up its beat and every muscle in his body screamed for release. But it had all been worth it. Anarion hadn't been one of the many Jumpers to die and now he was Point. Shockingly, Oakland hadn't died either. He was part of Anarion's Jump team. He was a grunt and carried the packs, but he'd survived when a fair few had not. Anarion smiled as he thought back to those early days. That smile died quickly. His friendship with Dorn had soured after the end of his training. He shifted his shoulders. Dorn didn't even train anymore. Though it was probably giving himself too much credit, Anarion sometimes wondered if Dorn's decision to go back to active Jumping had something to do with what had happened between them.

Maybe I'll find out. He's supposedly on the Kin's Ruin Jump team for Talos IV.

Not wanting to think on that any more, Anarion's eyes strayed to the handles of the duffle that stuck out from the bottom of the bunk. The blood suppressors were in there. It had been Abaddon's solution to stop him from attacking others like he had his mother. It dulled his need for human blood, but the hunger never truly went away. The treatment had made him into this thing: neither human nor Kin, but instead, something inbetween with no place in either world. He would inject himself with them nearer the time for launch. Otherwise the hunger would flood him on planet and that wouldn't be good.

The sheet shifted over Anarion's bare body. His cock was still half-hard from the memory of Abaddon. And the blood. Blood and Lord Abaddon are the magic combination to make me hard, he reminded himself with a grimace. I definitely should get up. Get ready for the Jump.

But it was so rare for him to have the room alone. He couldn't trust his control to jerk off when Nico was there. Arousal and the scent of Nico's blood in one closed room would be too much. He might attack the other man. So he either took advantage of being alone and hard or he didn't.

His right hand drifted down over his muscled stomach. The crinkly feel of his pubic hair tickled his fingers. His cock pulsed with need. He wrapped his hand around its hard length and gave one long upward pull. He let out a soft gasp as soon as he touched himself then bit his lip to keep the cries from spilling out. This was the only thing he could have: his own hand on his cock. It had to be enough or he would lose control and bite someone.

Unless it was a Kin, but I already found that the only one I want, the only one I need, is the one who left me. Left me in the Starn with fucking blood suppressors to stave off the hunger. Damn you, Lord Abaddon, my Kin, Anarion thought, but his bleak feelings towards the Kin commander did not make him go soft. Never. Thoughts of Abaddon always made him hotter than hell. His fangs extended. His jaw ached.

The Abaddon in Anarion's dream always had his hair down. It was no longer bound back in a demure long plait. Instead, Anarion imagined those red locks spilling over Abaddon's muscled chest. He envisioned them being as soft as silk. And always, always, Anarion imagined Abaddon's green eyes glowing with that strange emerald fire as he hovered over Anarion's body.

"Are you mine?" Anarion imagined Abaddon asking as the Kin Commander shoved the young man's legs apart and pushed his groin against Anarion's exposed ass. "Are you mine, Anarion?" He rubbed his hard cock against Anarion's perineum. "Have you missed me? Have you wanted me?"

"You know I have," Anarion whispered to the empty room.

He imagined Abaddon's lush mouth curling into a cruel smile. All the warmth and compassion that Abaddon had shown him as a child was blasted away in these fantasies. It was too painful to imagine those things here and now.

"You're my slave even without my presence in your life. I own you," the imagined Abaddon said as he leaned down and captured Anarion's mouth in a hot kiss. When he nipped Anarion's lower lip he drew blood and lapped it up.

Anarion cried out and his cock surged in his fist as he tasted his own blood when his incisors sliced into the tender flesh. Pre-cum welled at the tip of his penis. He gathered it up with his thumb and used its slickness to coat the rest of the shaft so that his hand slid more easily.

"I need you. I'm yours," Anarion confessed to no one. "Do whatever you want to me. Just -- just don't leave me!"

Only after he said those words would his fantasy allow a hint of tenderness in Abaddon's expression. The Kin Commander kissed his forehead then his eyes and cheeks. Featherlight kisses meant to comfort not inflame. This was Anarion's favorite and most hated part, because it seemed so intimate. It hinted at so much more of what he wanted and needed, but could never have. Abaddon then moved downwards. His kisses followed the column of Anarion's throat, pausing at the divet where his neck met his chest. The Kin's supple tongue snaked out and lapped at the beads of sweat that collected there.

"So sweet. So very very sweet," Abaddon whispered. Then he slid down further between Anarion's pectoral muscles, licking and nipping as he went.

He lingered on Anarion's stomach. His long fingers traced the hills and valleys of his stomach. This dream Abaddon seemed to love to make his stomach jump with the anticipation of what would happen once he slipped lower. Anarion gasped when the fantasy had Abaddon gripping some of his pubic hair in his teeth and tugging almost playfully. The slight pain was good. It tamped down the agonizing arousal.

"Do you want me to use my mouth to get you wet or take you dry? Punishment or pleasure. Your choice," Abaddon offered.

"I -- I ..." Anarion's breath was coming in heavy pants now. He let one hand leave his cock to toy with his opening, imagining it was Abaddon's fingers at that entrance. Planting his feet firmly on the bed, Anarion pushed the tip of his pointer finger inside.

Dry and rough? Or wet and slow? I want -- want his mouth, Anarion acknowledged. "Your mouth. Please. Please."

"You think that'll make you cum? My mouth on your hungry hole? Hmmmmm?" Abaddon asked with a low laugh. "You won't cum until I let you and I haven't decided whether I will or won't. It depends on how much you please me."

"Tell me how to please you!" Anarion cried out. He shut his eyes tighter then. He didn't want to see the empty room around him, mocking his desperate need for the Kin Commander to actually be there.

"It's not a thing that can be told or taught. You just have to know," Abaddon's voice sounded almost distant then.

Anarion felt the familiar sting of tears in his eyes. "I will please you! I'll find out how to!"

"Of course you will."

His imagined Abaddon ran his hands up and down Anarion's trembling thighs. He made a soothing sound to steady Anarion's thrumming body. Then Abaddon dipped his head down to hover over Anarion's erect cock. Anarion could almost feel his hot breath on the tip. Abaddon inhaled Anarion's aroma. His tongue came out again and swiped across the top of Anarion's cock.

"Fuck!" Anarion yelled and arched his hips as if to press them against an invisible mouth. But even in his dream, Abaddon didn't let him inside.

Anarion envisioned his semen as a white stripe across the Kin Commander's tongue. Abaddon's eyes would flutter shut as he absorbed Anarion's essence.

"Sweet is an understatement," the Kin Commander whispered.

Abaddon trailed his tongue down Anarion's cock, sucking in one ball then the other into his mouth. His fangs lightly brushed against the furry sacs. Anarion whined and spread his legs farther apart. Then Abaddon continued lower. With a push of Abaddon's hands, the Kin Commad rolled Anarion almost onto his shoulders.

"Yes, please. God, please!" Anarion pleaded.

Anarion imagined Abaddon's smile then. It was a possessive smile. The Kin Commander's fingers slid over the pink pucker. It pulsed.

"You're aching for my cock in you, aren't you, little boy? Want me to fuck you until that's all you feel. Pain and pleasure and all are mine to give or take away," Abaddon hissed softly. "How this pleases me."

Anarion let out a strangled sigh.

"I'm going to eat you out, Anarion, til this hole of yours is quivering even more. And once I do this, you'll be ruined for everyone else," Abaddon promised.

"I already am," Anarion responded with a half-sob.

Abaddon spread Anarion's cheeks open and began to lick and bite at the small opening. Anarion shook. His Kin's strong tensile tongue pierced him deeply. Abaddon's green eyes went almost black. Only a thin ring of jade rimmed the pupils. His long needle-sharp fangs rested almost on his lush bottom lip.

"Do you know how hard it is to not just sink my fangs into you and drink?" Abaddon's voice was so husky as to almost be unrecognizable.

"What's stopping you?" Anarion asked. His cock drizzled a steady amount of precum all over his belly.

"Would you like that? To become a part of me?" Abaddon whispered as he placed a kiss over that pulsing pucker.

"Yes, please, yes," Anarion moaned and thrashed his head from side to side. He wanted nothing more than that.

Which is why this is only a fantasy.

Abaddon's large cock slipped inbetween Anarion's cheeks while Anarion's wet, dripping cock was pressed between their bellies. When Abaddon started to rock forward, Anarion gasped. It felt so real this time. Like Abaddon was truly there. On top of him. Giving him what he so desperately needed. Even as he jacked himself off fast and furious with one hand and plunged his fingers inside of himself with the other, he longed to reach up and wrap his arms around the body he desperately wanted to be there.

But then something happened Anarion didn't expect.

Abaddon pressed his mouth to Anarion's ear. "Don't you know the truth, Anarion?"

Anarion grimaced. He didn't want talking. He wanted to be fucked. Why wasn't his mind doing as he told it to?

"Don't you know you're already a part of me? Just like I'm a part of you?" Abaddon murmured.

"What? No, I -- give me release!" Anarion cried out.

"The treatment that made you like this," Abaddon's voice seemed to be in his head and not in the room. "It was a gene therapy, Anarion."

"Don't talk about that! C'mon, please, I want to cum!" Anarion begged, but the voice in his mind went on.

The voice which hardly sounded like Abaddon's at all rustled in his brain like the crackling of dry leaves or the sifting of sand. It said, "The treatment was made with my DNA, Anarion. So I am already inside of you. Inside every molecule of your being."

Anarion felt tears spring into his eyes even as his cock pulsed in his hand, spraying semen across his taut belly.