...

Caprice

Chapter XIX

He had been halfway up his horse when someone said, "Mr. Portgas, I've been looking for you."

He dropped from the saddle's right stirrup back down to the ground and turned, his eyes widening. "Oh, Admiral X Drake. It's been a while…"

Truthfully, he didn't quite know what to make of the man, especially since he was not wearing his naval uniform. Instead he wore the plainest brown shirt and a tweed jacket, and a pair of trousers that had rips near the knees and threadbare hems. The only thing of resemblance to his old self was the strange hat he wore that concealed his forehead from sight. He certainly did not look like the man of power Lord Portgas had taken him to be during their first meeting many months ago during the duchess' frivolous event.

It had been many months. Campaigns to anywhere took many months, this Lord Portgas knew well. Still, he was surprised that Admiral X Drake would seek him out, of all people. And outside of Trafalgar's home? Surely he was looking for the doctor, not him.

"It has been a while indeed," the man replied tersely. "But you should not call me admiral any longer. I've left that post far behind me. I've come to…ask you questions based on rumours I have heard. Reputable rumours, mind you."

"Did you come to see the doctor as well?"

"No, just you. A blond man told me I would find you here when I visited your estate and you weren't around."

Lord Portgas nodded at the mention of Marco, not entirely sure what to say. He waited for the other to get down to the meat of the matter, as he did strike Lord Portgas as the business type.

"The duchess sent me to see you, and I think you know why that may be."

The lord's lips grew thin as he frowned. "I suppose I know what she wants."

"Do you?"

"Yes. Are you working for her now?"

"No. But she would tell you otherwise."

Lord Portgas cocked an eyebrow at the man who'd just admitted he had plans to betray the gluttonous witch's trust. "I see." He stared at the rather pensive looking animal Drake had standing quietly behind him. The horse looked well-groomed and well-bred, certainly not a horse to be rented out.

It told him a lot.

Drake had come from the duchess' estate. That was her horse, he was sure of it. No one else would have such a fine animal, and he knew Drake did not keep animals on his estate, which he had heard about fleetingly by word of mouth whenever the navy came up in conversation. To avoid keeping animals was the norm for sailors anyway. They were gone far too long to require them.

"We should ride back to my estate and have our discussion there," Lord Portgas said quietly. He received a nod and watched Drake mount the duchess' steed before doing the same. His own black charger was a misbehaving brute as usual, and during the ride back he noted the precise gait of the one trotting next to him. Carriage horse, born and bred. Only the duchess would require such an animal.

Upon arrival Marco appeared in the yard and took their horses to the stable, seeming to feel the tension in the air. Lord Portgas didn't protest to this, though on any other occasion he would cool his horse down himself. Today, however, he hoped that Marco would keep a reasonable distance. There was something off about this sailor.

They were inside the manor when Drake chose to finally speak again. "I see you obtained that painting."

Lord Portgas looked up at the painting of the Moby Dick crashing through the ocean waves. "Yes, it used to belong to Duchess Jewelry."

"Before that it belonged to me, but I have less interest in paintings than in the ships themselves."

Lord Portgas' heart thumped faster. "You know about the ship in this painting?"

Drake gave him a long, reproachful look before answering. "Yes."

"Tell me about its history. In far exchange for anything you may want to know."

He could see Drake turning over this rather odd request in his mind, calculating the bargain. At last he nodded and they proceeded to sit across from one another in the nearest room.

"First, let me say, I have travelled the seas to see you," Drake said, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back fully in his chair, completely at ease.

Lord Portgas stiffened. He was certain he'd heard those words, or their like, before. He stayed silent contemplating this until Drake spoke again.

"I've become a pirate, because there are things I need to get accomplished in my lifetime that were unavailable to me whilst I was at my previous post," Drake divulged. Lord Portgas could only nod at that and purse his lips. He had to admit he was somewhat surprised to hear the man say it aloud without a flinch or a wavering of his voice. His character, he supposed, knew no fear.

Kind of like his own. He could respect that, certainly.

"A certain Monkey D. Luffy has been causing some upsets in the New World," Drake said suddenly, catching the lord off-guard. "He landed on an island of…natives that were being trafficked as slaves to Marijois and claimed it as his own land. Destroyed the navy's port there, too, and drove ships back out to sea with a revolt of the natives led by members of his crew. Is he mad or is there a method to his whimsical passions?"

Lord Portgas blinked. "This is the first I've heard of the event."

"I'm not surprised. It's one of the navy's secret strongholds that has been obliterated, so it's being hushed up. Regardless, I thought it best to warn you that you will most certainly be getting a visit from Commodore Smoker, and perhaps even Akainu, though he's more interested in speaking with Sabaody's elites on matters he was loath to discuss with me. Though I know the duchess is included on his agenda."

"…This isn't really what you've come to talk to me about, is it?" Lord Portgas asked.

"No, not at all. I just thought it fair to warn you of that man's foolishness. I heard you to are acquainted in some way. At least that's the report the navy has on you, and why Smoker will appear on your doorstep, likely in a matter of days." Drake brushed a finger over his chin, where his scar was a reminder of a fight in the distant past. "I've come to ask you what you know of the One Piece. It's location, specifically."

He saw Lord Portgas' eyes dart around the room before settling on a painting of the Moby Dick. "Of course I will tell you all I know about that ship."

"Ah, no, it's not that…"

"I get it. That man, Monkey, has already come to see you and you've already given him the information I seek from you now."

Lord Portgas laughed lightly, his stomach churning. "No. It's the fact that I don't know its whereabouts that is the problem. Luffy is my brother and he came to see me because we were close childhood companions, not because he desired answers to the questions you probably want to ask me now."

Drake was obviously surprised. "You're brothers?"

"Not by blood, but yes. We are."

"Ah, that explains his visitation here…"

Lord Portgas fixed the man with a serious look. "How is it that the navy knows of my brother's actions during his time on Sabaody? Of me as well?"

"There were people tracking his progress. People interested in what I'm interested in. Believe it or not there are people other than me out there that know who you are."

Lord Portgas swallowed thickly. He did not like the implications of that. Who else would be willing to come all the way to Sabaody to interrogate him about his blasted father's secret treasure? Already he had a witch at his back and an ex-admiral turned pirate lounging in his drawing room. The duchess he felt he could outsmart, but the admiral he could see was quick-witted and wouldn't hesitate to drive a sharpened stake into his heart if he found it fit. That was the predatory vibe he got from the man.

"You really know nothing. Somehow I find that rather hard to believe," the man continued brusquely.

Lord Portgas shrugged, trying his best to calm his racing heart. "I have nothing to hide. You must believe me that I have no intentions of finding the treasure for myself, and that my father has left no clues as to its whereabouts, at least where I am concerned."

The man wouldn't be sated by empty words. "You have nothing to hide. Then you wouldn't mind my looking about this estate? The estate of the Pirate King?"

He had no delusions that the man knew who his father really was. That he was no dog of the king's, but one of the king's most fierce enemies brought to justice only by a decision he himself made. Many of the higher-ranking officers in the navy knew, and some of the oldest were in the king's presence when he gave the orders for the execution.

"I don't mind," the lord conceded, "but you have yet to tell me the story I wish to hear."

"Why would you wish to know such a story? If you don't mind me asking…"

"Curiosity's sake," the lord returned, a little quicker than was subtle. He saw a flicker of distrust in those dark eyes across from him, but that faded away when he pointed at the painting. "Twenty years ago, something happened to that ship, and from what I've heard it was carrying innocent people."

X. Drake snorted. "Innocent people, huh? I'm sorry to inform you that the majority of those people were either escaped slaves or pirates led by a man who fiercely opposed the kings of every land that did business regarding the selling of human labour. The day the Moby Dick was sunk was a great day for our navy, and other countries have looked to our navy as an example of how best to deal with pirates."

Drake cocked his head to the side, looking pensive and a bit humouring. "Of course, what isn't so commonly known is that Whitebeard put his ship in such a position that, though it would spell his doom, it would be possible to sink the majority of the navy's fleet with cannons on all sides. A fleet of warships lost to a man and his crew of slaves and pirates. Incredible, isn't it? One would almost think it was more than luck for that man."

"Hmm," Lord Portgas grumbled. "Is there more to this story? You were there to witness it, right?"

"Of course, though I was not an admiral then. And there is always more to a story. What more do you wish to know?"

"The fate of those aboard the Moby Dick?"

X. Drake shrugged his stiff shoulders. "M'Lord, have you ever heard of the Buster Call?"

Lord Portgas' eyes widened and he felt his jaw go lax.

"It was used then," continued Drake. "Complete annihilation of the enemy. The Moby Dick was surrounded save for her port side, which was up against nothing less than a rock face. The ship sunk and claimed the lives of many men, especially those that were foolish enough to try and escape to the water; they were caught in the undertow."

"So none survived," the lord whispered, his mind conjuring up an image of a young, blond-haired boy in tattered rags. "None at all?"

"When the wreckage was examined later it was noted that there was a nook in the rock face, so it was examined. Sure enough, there were but a handful that escaped the waters in time, but they were hunted and executed in the midst of Sabaody. I was not present for that, however."

Lord Portgas tried to keep his voice steady. "By hanging?"

"Yes, by hanging. For what other way does a pirate go?" Drake asked ruefully.

Lord Portgas drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. He still had many more questions to ask Drake, questions concerning the slaves that had been saved by Whitebeard, but it occurred to him that Drake had gotten nothing for his time. Besides, he had enough to sate his curiosity for now.

"You know, it's rather unusual for one to have an interest in pirates," Drake suddenly piped up. "What do you gain with this knowledge?"

"A better appreciation for those paintings," the lord replied, having already prepared this answer in advance. He knew Drake would ask for the why soon enough. To tell him he wanted to know more about the man he loved, once a slave from a foreign land, was folly. Though Drake could not draw the law from his belt like he could his sword, it was certain that he would store the information away in case it became useful. He did not trust Drake to keep a secret if he were given a good reason to divulge it.

He decided now was a good time to change subjects. "You do know the duchess is a dangerous woman, right?"

"A witch," Drake affirmed curtly, "and a rather moody one at that. But, make no mistake, her powers are limited and when we sail the crew I have assembled will know who they answer to."

"Then why include her?"

"She has money, and her status allows me to pass nearly undeterred from these seas to those in the New World." Drake's already narrow eyes narrowed further at him. "I trust you to keep this a quiet matter?"

"Of course. She is as much a thorn in my side as she is a volatile variable in your plans to find the greatest treasure of all."

Drake bowed his head, his eyelids drooping along with the corners of his mouth. "You really know nothing?"

"Nothing at all. I have no inheritance from my father save for his accursed blood."

"I see," Drake said solemnly. Then he rose and, without saying another word, departed.

-oOo-

There was an insistent hand upon his rear end and heavy panting in his ear.

"If you would back away and give me the chance to unlock my door we would both benefit," Dr. Trafalgar growled to his dog-like follower. He thrust his hips backwards to enunciate his request, but upon having his hips return to their former position found that Lord Eustass' hand palmed his buttocks ever tighter. "Really now. You're getting on my nerves."

"Don't be trying to get rid of me," the lord teased, giving that which he was palming a light, playful smack. In response Trafalgar jumped and the key that he had been fiddling with dropped from its lodgings in his door's lock. It hit the stone porch with a soft ting and bounced away, quite out of Trafalgar's limited reach.

"Now look what you've caused," said Trafalgar, shoving the lord backwards in an attempt to gain his freedom. Shove returned shove, and Trafalgar found his cheek pressed against his door, along with the rest of his body sandwiched between flesh and wood.

"I think I shall take you right here."

"Try it and I shall carve your eyes out with a scalpel."

"Feisty, feisty. But I do like you feisty."

Trafalgar snorted and tried to free himself, twisting his body in such a way that forced Lord Eustass to back off. The man no longer pushed against him, and for the first time since they'd embraced on the bridge, he let the doctor go and move about freely.

The doctor wasted no time in unlocking the door and pulling Lord Eustass into his rather humble abode. A locked door meant Shachi was out, and he wished for the privacy to last as long as possible. He figured he had at least an hour, if not more, before he would have to explain himself to his boggart.

Not that Shachi would bother him once he caught the scent of his company.

His mind thought of many uses for that hour, all of them containing the redheaded cambion whom was standing and looking about his home with a stupidly blank expression. It occurred to him then that the lord likely wasn't used to visiting other people and seeing how they lived their lives.

"What do you think of my home?" asked Trafalgar, casually wandering off while Lord Eustass stood there in a daze.

"It's…it's smaller than I thought it would be."

"I live a humble life," Dr. Trafalgar lamented. He leaned against the dining table, waiting for the lord to decide what to do next. He had not been expecting this pause, especially not when the lord had been fondling him the entire time they'd walked back through the forest together. His confidence had been at a peak then, but now he appeared nothing short of submissive. "Mr. Eustass?"

His quiet call brought some fire back into the man's eyes. "Dark in here, too. How the hell do you see anything in here?"

"I have very good eyes," the doctor answered with a smirk. He would not tell the lord he could see perfectly well in complete darkness just the same as during the day. Let him figure it out another night, Trafalgar thought. Or, perhaps, their previous encounters had already hinted that fact enough to the lord, and he had momentarily forgotten what meagre information he had on the doctor. It was hard to tell what the lord thought sometimes, though Trafalgar did try to pick his mind on any and all occasions.

Lord Eustass finally shuffled closer, though Trafalgar caught the weary glances and pieced together what he imagined the man's thoughts to be. "There is nothing here but you and I. My housekeeper is out. My steed, too."

"The bear," the lord whispered, more to himself than his companion. Trafalgar fancied that the lord was quite against thinking of his fluffy white steed as harmless, so he said no more on the matter.

Lord Eustass stopped in front of him and raised a hand, fingers splayed. Trafalgar thought he would cup his cheek, but rather the man's thumb pressed against the underside of his stubbled chin. With just his thumb the lord tilted Trafalgar's face up and captured his lower lip between his own, tugging it away until the suction let off and separated them. Trafalgar's tongue darted out and he moistened his lips, awaiting the man's next move while enjoying the scent of his flesh.

The familiar streak of dominance that characterized Lord Eustass' play returned and Trafalgar was pushed backwards onto his dining room table, the lord's weight falling on top of him. His lips were forgotten momentarily and his neck became the area to be pleasured with searing kisses and none-too-gentle nibbles. He dug his fingers into red hair and pulled, keeping a steady pressure that he knew the lord enjoyed feeling.

He couldn't access much more than that, as the lord was still clothed. His own clothing was being ripped from him and for a second he felt like a virgin about to be deflowered by the way his heart began to flutter and nervous goosebumps started to dot his skin. Lord Eustass was doing something to him, something he couldn't put his finger on but which felt like a high all the same.

The blood that had spilled down his chin and neck had hardened and was now cracking and flaking away, probably accounting for his euphoria. At least that was his initial hypothesis.

"Take off your clothes," Trafalgar ordered as Lord Eustass' coat painfully chafed his bare chest. He still had his arms in the sleeves of his coat, but as soon as the lord straightened to escape the fabric covering him, Trafalgar similarly rid himself of his coat and undid the button on his trousers. It was Lord Eustass who removed them, tossing them on the floor and rubbing his rough hands up and down the tops of Trafalgar's thighs.

Scent poured into Trafalgar's nose. It was not the scent of blood, but something just as sweet if not sweeter. He sniffed the air as Lord Eustass' naked body again covered his, thumbs brushing over perky nipples and following up with tongue and teeth.

He sagged and let the lord do what he wished with his body, but the scent that had aroused his interest earlier returned to his nostrils with greater force. His body grew rigid, just as much as the lord's hard cock that was nudging the area between his parted legs. He gasped when he felt wetness on his skin, and it dawned on him that the smell that was captivating him was none other than the cambion's unique essence.

He chuckled, and the lord pulled back from his task suckling the hollow of his neck, eyes darting across Trafalgar's face. Using his elbows, Trafalgar raised himself up and pecked the lord' cheek, feeling giddy in the seconds before he spoke.

"As a vampire, I'm very good at sucking," Trafalgar whispered, the curve of his mouth suggestive to other activities.

Though the suggestion was entirely in his favour, Lord Eustass caught the gleam of a fang that was poking out of Trafalgar's smile. "With your teeth, I don't think it would be wise of me to let you down there."

"O'ho, he thinks wisely, like Eustasius the Monk," Trafalgar mocked, bringing a hand to his face and letting his fingers dance in and around his mouth, touching his fangs and spreading saliva over his pink lips. "I wouldn't bite you down there, not even accidentally. Listen, though I may appear to have a small mouth, I assure you that my jaw can be quite…accommodating."

"That so."

"That's indeed so, yes. Vampires have to be able to flex their jaws at many different angles and stretch them quite wide to take advantage of, well…"

"Prey." Lord Eustass' eyes lit up, illuminating his masochistic side.

"If that's what you want to call yourself." Trafalgar chuckled and pushed his body off the table. "Follow me."

Surprisingly, Lord Eustass obeyed, and ultimately he was instructed to sit down on a chaise longue. Trafalgar made it very clear that he would be the one assuming control and positioned the lord as he liked, leaned back on the single arm and backing of the chair, with one leg propped up and the other hanging off the chaise. The position gave access to what was between Lord Eustass'.

Trafalgar could see the apprehension in the lord's eyes as he knelt next to the chaise and viciously seized the lord's thighs with his nails. It earned him a jolt, and he laughed darkly. "Now you know how I feel being grabbed suddenly like that."

Lord Eustass' gaze hardened, as did something else. He could feel the tip of his cock moistening some more with this act of dominance. "So this will be an act of revenge?"

"Oh, of the best kind my dear," mocked the doctor. He scratched his way down the man's bare legs, slowly grinning and exposing his fangs. He could see there was a wet spot forming near the top of the lord's cock, and watched a bead of white slowly flow down that peak. "You know, we could play a game."

"A game with you sounds dangerous," the lord growled, admiring the way the daylight coming through the windows fell on Trafalgar's bare shoulders and long, sinuous arms. The light cast a shadow on one side of his face, reminding the lord of the man's seemingly dual nature. Indeed, a game with Trafalgar did sounded like it could have a fatal end if he wasn't careful.

"You are afraid of me?" asked Trafalgar, caressing the man's thighs.

"I am not!"

"Good. Then wait here. I'll be quick."

Lord Eustass watched the doctor scurry off, his pale skin disappearing down a nearly invisible stairwell. There was no noise at all save for the wind picking up outside, rustling the branches of trees nearest the house. Lord Eustass drew both of his legs up onto the chaise. He didn't like feeling so exposed, but a part of him was curious as to what the doctor wanted to try to do to him in such a position.

He was rightfully leery when Trafalgar returned with his medical bag over his shoulder. Lord Eustass couldn't help but note the doctor's half-erect state, and concluded that whatever was about to happen to him would be nothing short of his host's fetish. Or, perhaps if he was incredibly unlucky, his collection of fetishes.

"What's in the bag?"

Trafalgar slung it around in front and peered inside, his eyebrows raised and a playful smile upon his face. "A couple coils of rope, some medicine, a few needles, a few different ointments, bottle of ink, mortar and pestle, hacksaws of differing lengths and girths, an eye surgeon's scalpel set and dental mummifying paste; though I don't use those last two much anymore since I've started carrying pliers with me. They work good when you put a bit of muscle behind them."

"…I didn't want to know that much," Lord Eustass finally said, his eyes glued to the bag.

"You did ask what was in my bag. I felt obliged to tell you the truth."

"None of that you will use on me," the lord declared. "Especially anything to do with needles and the other things that followed them."

"So you might be willing to let me truss you up with a bit of rope? I do believe we had some fun the last time I had you in ropes."

The reminder of awakening to find himself tied up and helpless to a vampire in the middle of the night brought a warm pink blush to the lord's cheeks.

"Don't make me coerce you using my body," Trafalgar said, all at once dropping his bag and grabbing hold of the lord's most sensitive organ. Lord Eustass yelped and went to reach for the source of the discomfort, but Trafalgar made it clear that he would inflict increasing amounts of pain if Lord Eustass dared try to swat him away. And so the man was left to watch himself grow impossibly harder in his captor's grasp, unable to move his arms as that made Trafalgar clench his hand into a fist. It was an agonizing move.

The doctor really was a demonic fiend.

"Can I tie you up?" Trafalgar asked cheekily, brushing his thumb over the lord's slit and smearing the drop of fluid that had gathered across the head of his member. "Well?"

Lord Eustass groaned and his head fell backwards, exposing his thick neck. With every haggard breath brought on mostly by his anger at being handled this way Trafalgar found his own breathing becoming more laboured. He continued to caress the man he had, quite literally, within his clutches, though it was more an absentminded meditation than teasing to him. The reason for his fogginess he attributed to how erotic the lord's neck appeared, how utterly perfect it was for a quick nibble.

He stopped his train of thought and refocused himself. He was not going to snack in between meals. Not yet. He was instead going to make the lord suffer long and hard, then bring him to such an immeasurable climax that he would henceforth be inextricably bound to his every word.

He grinned the smug grin of a cat that had a squeaking mouse backed into a corner. Lord Eustass was no tiny grey mouse, but with a certain amount of pressure Trafalgar found he could make him utter the appropriate noises of one.

Without severing their connection or stopping his smooth caresses, Trafalgar sat himself down on the chaise and stuck out his leg to fish for his bag. He hooked it delicately with the tips of his toes and brought it to his side, reaching down to grab a long length of metallic beading that shimmered and wriggled as if it were some sort of living snake. He spun it so it coiled around his wrist loosely and then asked, once again, "Can I tie you up with my special rope?"

At the same time he began gently jerking his other hand. Lord Eustass let out a soft groan made ever louder by the quiet of Trafalgar's household.

"I'm taking that as a yes." With that he stood up and let go of the lord, moving quickly to secure his hands in his own. The coil of beads that were as dark as Trafalgar's eyes slid down his wrist and around the left wrist of Lord Eustass.

The coil tightened immediately. By now the lord's head had snapped back up and he watched, wide-eyed, as the beaded rope was threaded through the intricate woodwork on the back of the chair and then around the lord's other wrist. Fast as could be, which shouldn't have surprised the lord as much as it did given that Trafalgar probably stitched patients faster than that.

"Bind."

The entire arrangement grew taut at Trafalgar's command. Lord Eustass felt his stomach drop and recognized this change in heart as panic. His arms were ripped backwards by some invisible force that he was powerless to resist and melded to the back of the chair.

He opened his mouth to shout, only to get Trafalgar's palm smothering him. "Shh, there's no need to be alarmed. This is an enchanted chain of a rope, one I got from a certain witch by the name of Boa Hancock after I saved the life of her beloved. I can get it off of you whenever I want." He leaned down to plant a wet kiss on the lord's lips the second he removed his hand, then rose to retrieve his medical bag from the floor. He withdrew a length of black cloth and held it up.

"I'm sure you don't remember this cloth, but I know you remember how you ruined my favourite coat. Well, as punishment for that I'm going to use a remnant of my coat to blind you…"

"You bastard! I never consented to playing a game with you!"

Trafalgar put an index finger to his mouth, tapping his lips lazily. "Shh, because you have only two options really. I can blind you, or I can blind you and gag you. What do you prefer?"

It was then that he moved out of the reach of the lord's powerful legs, which he decided wouldn't be so much of a threat so long as he had enough threats left to pull out of his arse. "Don't even think about kicking me in this position."

Lord Eustass gave him an ugly glare but settled his feet with his knees bent, looking to Trafalgar as if he were contemplating whether or not folding up to protect his most sensitive place would look weak or not. Trafalgar didn't voice this amusing observation, but it was dreadfully obvious that the lord was on the brink of being frightened of him. It brought a rush to his blood, and his fingers itched to touch the man and bring him down a notch. He certainly deserved it.

"You think you've turned the tables on me," the lord growled. In response Trafalgar only chuckled and walked around the back of the chaise, letting his fingers drift along the top of the backrest. He noticed that the lord's member was flopping a little to the side, not nearly as stiff as before, and like a cat he reached down and swatted it playfully. This made Eustass utter a noise that was half a groan of submission and half a snarl.

"Oh, I know I have reversed our roles." Trafalgar took his fingers off the backrest and reached down to flick at the tip of the lord's engorged member once more, making it sway back and forth and producing a hiss from its owner. It surprised him, however, that the lord would not draw his knees up to his chest. He was much too proud to take that sort of shelter.

He went around to the lord's head, crouching behind the chaise so that it was almost impossible to see him at all, even with the lord's neck twisted around. He admired the shimmering beads that were more than strong enough to hold down wizards with a great deal of magical expertise, never mind a hot-headed and narrow-minded cambion. Only with great difficulty was the lord able to gain leverage enough to see over the side of the chaise, and Trafalgar noted his pupils were no more than a pinprick, but holding constant. He wanted nothing but a pure, milky white in those orbs.

"Relax," he cooed, fingers delving into the man's long hair. How he liked to run his fingers through anything soft. After several minutes of playfully petting his captive, it was clear that the lord could do anything but relax. Even after the lord had reverted back to a more comfortable position the tension was still present in his body language. He leaned in to the man's ear, breathing warm air on the skin there and hearing a sharp intake of breath.

"Relax. I'll let you in on a little secret: I'm not going to hurt you." His whispered words worked to take out some of the tension from the man's muscles, but what remained was greater than what left. "I'm going to give you a good sucking, and then I'm going to release you."

His tongue curled and slid along the shell of the lord's ear, and then trailed downwards until he was kissing his neck, inhaling the sweet smell of sweat and blood boiling beneath the skin's surface. While he did this he took the blindfold and fastened it, which surprisingly did not earn a verbal protest. With the blind in place Trafalgar returned to the lord's neck, opening his mouth and dragging his upper teeth along the skin there, causing convulsions to ripple across the skin. His fangs were not so sharp that they immediately penetrated – it was only with force that he was able to sink in. He held off despite his desires, and eventually he drew away and walked around the backside of the chaise once more, arriving on the other side by the lord's chest, which was out of reach of any kicks.

There he rested a hand on Lord Eustass' kneecap, for his legs were still drawn up, and then glided it down the inside of his thigh and back up again, gauging the other's reaction by the turn of his mouth, as he could no longer see the lord's eyes. It was still unfavourable.

"Is this your idea of torture?" asked the lord, blunt as Trafalgar's fangs.

Trafalgar held his laughter in. The lord had no idea of the intensity of torture the doctor could employ, and he had no desire to ruin the moment explaining it in great detail. So he simply replied, "No, it is not. Now spread your legs for me. Take the position I left you in before. Wider. Don't be afraid."

There was no satisfaction in using brute force; obedience was the greatest reward that Trafalgar sought. However, he did not view physical coaxing as an example of force, and so let the tips of his fingers tickle the area just beneath his throbbing member, playing with the loose skin that was gradually drawing upwards towards his body and encouraging a spreading of the lord's legs. As he expected, his affections were well-received, and soon he was allowed access to the lord's most intimate area. He could see the flush that had started in the man's cheeks had spread downwards like wildfire, igniting his neck and the topmost part of his previously pale chest.

As far as Trafalgar was concerned, he was ready. He brought his lips down and kissed the tip of the man's member, then took it into his mouth, widening his jaw to make a necessary accommodation for the sheer girth of it. His first taste made the muscles in his shoulders tense, and he felt a familiar lift up into the clouds. Indeed the same lightness invaded his head when he was feeding, but only on this particular man.

The sharp taste of him became more pronounced as Trafalgar sucked his seed out the tip, his sweetness nothing less than vampiric candy. He hadn't realized just what a difference this man was from others when he was being taken in the meadow, but now tasked with pleasuring the man he could see that there was definitely a pronounced difference between regular men and his playmate. The thinness in consistency and amount expelled he had noted before, but the taste, now that was something that he found himself losing his head over.

The tips of his fingers tingled as he drove them under Eustass' balls. He felt the extension of the man's cock beneath his skin and out of sight, felt a long tubular muscle flex and began to massage that area with his thumb and index finger. He was content to give Eustass a deep tissue massage in this area, occasionally using his tongue to lap at his balls. Otherwise he teased the head of his cock in swirling motions, enjoying how the more he massaged below, the more delicious cum spurted from above. He was in raptures tasting his partner, and almost felt himself sink away into a dark place in his mind.

He ripped himself from his task and recovered, taking in air and pumping the lord with a hand slicked in his own saliva. The beautiful fluid oozed down to meet his hand. He was grateful then that he'd decided to apply the blindfold, for he could feel the drool et al running down his chin, making him quite the sight to behold.

He grinned at himself and returned to his work with more vigour than before, egged on by soft moans that turned to into grunts every time Trafalgar gently dragged the soft sides of his bottom fangs along the thickly veined underside of the lord's member. He felt that same vein continue down deep and out of sight, and decided he couldn't ignore it as Eustass' previous partners likely did. He wasn't ignorant, he knew anatomy, and he was reassured of his prowess by the thick moans he got when he pumped that length of cock that wasn't visible to the naked eye at the same time he sucked the length that was.

While he did this, his fingernails on his opposite hand scraped against the lord's chest, leaving tiny railway tracks of red in their wake. The doctor's motions became more erratic as his mind muddled, and soon he was giving pleasure for the sole purpose of receiving it himself. He became lost in a tempestuous sea, and what he began to feel under his hands, his trembling captive, was what snapped him back to solid ground and reality. He grasped Lord Eustass' hips sharply, triggering his release.

Trafalgar choked and pulled back, watching the ensuing eruption with hooded eyes. Never had he felt so lustful that he'd lost all intelligible thought, and he blinked stupidly at the cause of his elation. His fingers were still deeply embedded between Eustass' balls and he felt the ejaculation through the pads of his fingers.

Then he began to giggle softly, muffling it only when he wiped the fluids from his face with his forearm.

"You don't doubt the sucking abilities of a vampire now?" Trafalgar brazenly asked, his words somewhat garbled, reflecting the state of his mind. All he got was an unintelligible mumble, though the darkening of the man's cheeks silently told him what he had wanted to hear spoken aloud.

A.N.: Apologies for the lateness, as always. *hangs head*