[ Lucilius watches Belial undress, just as perfectly still and unmoving, a cold, hard gaze boring into him, as if to keep him in place. The way Belial rushes to follow the order sends a quiet thrill through him, even knowing it's only Belial's own hedonism that makes him so exceptionally obedient this time. He lets his gaze run down his body as Belial divulges himself of more and more of his clothes, once again finding himself pleased with his own work and the fine design, but also finds his eyes drawn to every newly exposed flash of bare skin, until Belial's full body is before him, bared and exposed, the stretch of pale, flawless skin over his finely-designed, shapely form. And then, finally, he drops down to his feet.
Yes— there it is. Much better. Belial on his knees, at his feet, stripped naked, in a display of such pure, enthusiastic obedience and submission that makes another thrill run through him, a rush of power and satisfaction over feeling in control again. Lucilius wants to explore that body again, sink his claws into his skin, into his scalp, to grip and tug his hair. Instead, he takes the cup of tea and saucer, crosses his legs, sits back, and waits for it to cool for a bit before sipping at it.
He lets time pass like this, in silence, letting the tea cool for a bit before sipping slowly, taking his sweet time finishing his cup. A few minutes pass; then another few; he lets his mind wander into idle areas, sitting as if he had forgotten Belial was even there. When he does finish, finally, after what could have been five minutes or ten&mdash he hadn't been counting— Lucilius stands up, not even looking at Belial, not acknowledging him any more than he would a piece of furniture, takes the pot, and pours into the half-filled cup until it's as full as his has been. He sits down, and, the exact same way, takes his time as he finishes, sip by tiny sip, all in perfect silence, as another few minutes pass that could be anything from five to ten to fifteen.
And then, finally, he speaks, suddenly breaking the silence as if he had just remembered Belial was even there. ]
It is clear to see that you have grown arrogant in my absence, and forgotten your place. However clever I had designed you to be, you are still, at your core, nothing more than a beast, playing at being an intelligent creature. [ He leans back and crosses his arms, thoughtfully stroking his chin. ] Whatever am I to do? Terribly bothersome as it is, I see no other choice but to re-train you.
no subject
Yes— there it is. Much better. Belial on his knees, at his feet, stripped naked, in a display of such pure, enthusiastic obedience and submission that makes another thrill run through him, a rush of power and satisfaction over feeling in control again. Lucilius wants to explore that body again, sink his claws into his skin, into his scalp, to grip and tug his hair. Instead, he takes the cup of tea and saucer, crosses his legs, sits back, and waits for it to cool for a bit before sipping at it.
He lets time pass like this, in silence, letting the tea cool for a bit before sipping slowly, taking his sweet time finishing his cup. A few minutes pass; then another few; he lets his mind wander into idle areas, sitting as if he had forgotten Belial was even there. When he does finish, finally, after what could have been five minutes or ten&mdash he hadn't been counting— Lucilius stands up, not even looking at Belial, not acknowledging him any more than he would a piece of furniture, takes the pot, and pours into the half-filled cup until it's as full as his has been. He sits down, and, the exact same way, takes his time as he finishes, sip by tiny sip, all in perfect silence, as another few minutes pass that could be anything from five to ten to fifteen.
And then, finally, he speaks, suddenly breaking the silence as if he had just remembered Belial was even there. ]
It is clear to see that you have grown arrogant in my absence, and forgotten your place. However clever I had designed you to be, you are still, at your core, nothing more than a beast, playing at being an intelligent creature. [ He leans back and crosses his arms, thoughtfully stroking his chin. ] Whatever am I to do? Terribly bothersome as it is, I see no other choice but to re-train you.