by Raye
Johnsen
*************
Ranma 1/2 belongs to Rumiko Takahashi,
not me.
*************
He shut the door behind himself with a sigh of relief, almost forgetting to reset the wards on it. Nobody would get through that door, save the ones he chose to permit to pass through it. Nobody would even notice it, if he chose not to let them.
Saotome Ranma smiled grimly as he walked over to a shelf set against the wall, pulling off an old, leather-bound grimoire. Who would have thought Kuno the idiot was right for once? he thought, quietly pleased at the irony. That Saotome Ranma really is a sorcerer?
His secret workshop didn't look a lot like the magician's workshops that he'd seen in films. For one thing, it wasn't dank and filled with smoke. Dirt got into spell components and played merry hell with results, and he had enough trouble with reciting cantrips without tempting a coughing fit in the middle of a summoning.
His walls were not dark, but instead painted a soft, tasteful shade of eggshell, just one pinkish shade away from white. True white would reflect the light, but this colour absorbed it.
It was also, given the... decoration... hanging on the right-hand wall, rather ironic. Ranma was amused by this also.
His workbenches were scrupulously clean. However messy he was out there, in here he was neat and precise in all his doings.
Out there... Ranma sighed at the thoughts of that place.
Genma was not the brightest, nor the most unselfish man, but he was truly gifted as a teacher of the martial arts. If he had been as gifted at other things, such as watching over his son and paying attention to his activities, Ranma would never have learnt half of what he knew of magic.
It had been the winter of his eighth year. The winter was bitter, too bitter to travel; Genma stayed at the temple because it would give him free room and board in return for odd chores around the buildings and grounds. Ranma at first stayed because it was fun, but then had grown bored with building snowmen and exploring the temple.
The old masters had always left the temple at dusk, returning at dawn. Ranma had noticed them, and in his boredom decided to follow them.
They had known he was there from the moment he sneaked after them. When he had lost the trail in the forest surrounding the temple, he had at first thought about heading back, but then decided to try to find them. He had been very startled to find them further down the track, waiting for him to catch up....
That had been the night of his first lessons in magic.
The old masters had given him a very fundamental base in the Arte of Magick, explaining everything simply and well, demonstrating use as well as reason. He wasn't the only young student, either; it was the first time he'd ever had to share a teacher.
Both he and they had known that he would not be staying beyond the spring thaw, so his training had been intense and concentrated on the principles rather than specific facts and spells. Knowing that he would probably end up being his own teacher, the priests had tried to give him the ability to measure possibilities and to create his own spells.
When Ranma had left that temple, he had been looking at an entirely new world, and his pack was heavy with three precious grimoire - specially made copies of the temple's three most fundamental texts, the ones the Masters themselves found themselves referencing and returning to, time and again. The seven-year-old Ranma couldn't understand most of what was written there, but as time went on and he read more and learnt more and came into contact with other masters, of both magic and war, the books slowly opened up to him.
Genma had never even noticed, crediting Ranma's rise in skill and his sudden increase in healing speed to his own talents as a teacher. Ranma was prepared to give him that accolade in martial arts.
There was a soft chink, and Ranma remembered where he was, and who else was there.
An all-senses illusion lay upstairs on his futon, snoring beside Genma, but his real bed was here. A low bed, two feet off the floor, upholstered in red silk, built into an alcove of the room. It was the one splash of colour about this place, specially made to withstand Ranma's... experiments.
He checked the page of the grimoire, one of his original three, to make sure he had the spells right. The binding was holding. Given that it had been made with consent, it would take death to sever it. Smiling, this time with satisfaction, Ranma shut the book gently - anticipation, anticipation - and replaced it on the shelf. He was rewarded with a soft sigh.
Now he turned to face the opposite wall, on this right hand as he entered.
Hibiki Ryouga hung there, held up by cunningly-placed pegs and platforms, kept in place by chains of force. The thin silvery ribbons of links festooning his body were merely there for decoration, because Ranma liked them placed so.
Ryouga lifted his head, his golden brown eyes burning as he stared at the face of his master. His mouth worked, but no sound came from his mouth. His hips moved - gently, gently now, for Ranma had been gone all day and there had been no relief, and yet he still had to move, for no position was comfortable as the one-inch-long plug sat between his buttocks, holding the entrance to his body open but giving no satisfaction or stimulation. His proud cock stood at attention before his body, held there by the cock-ring Ranma never took off, but had enchanted to tighten or release according to his wishes.
Ranma leaned back against the bench, watching his beautiful boy watch him, dark eyes begging.
He remembered the first time he had seen those eyes like that... so open in their need. It had been after Ryouga had lost his challenge to him....
It had been the end of the first week of school, and fourteen-year-old Ranma had decided, finally, to join in the daily melee at the sandwich line. Either he was late or there were fewer sandwiches today; either way, the sausage bread was the last piece available, and it was about to be flung to the mob.
Ranma quickly sprang into action, jumping to catch the bread.
"You!" snapped a voice behind him. He turned, to look into a pair of bitter-chocolate eyes that made him melt faster than an icecream. "That was my bread!"
"Your bread?" Ranma replied without thinking. "Didn't see your name on it!"
The other stalked off in a huff, and Ranma sucked in his breath. He'd never had such a reaction to anything. Better check the books when I get home.
The books did explain it.
A mage will show these signs when encountering one who is or has the potential to be the mage's greatest weakness, or has or can develop the ability to wield the mage's greatest weakness against them: increased speed, increased attention span, decreased thought processes, intense sexual awareness of the person and generally increased libido in general.
It is considered wise for the mage to attempt to 'tame' the potential danger by either killing the person or to develop permanent control of the person.
Ranma leaned back. Killing or controlling. Interesting.
Even at that young age, he had realised he had no real desire to kill another. And there were a number of things that were possible with a magically-bound slave that a mage simply could not do alone, as well as things that no sane mage would attempt with a partner who wasn't permanently bound to them.
Ranma found himself flipping to a part of the grimoire he had always passed over before. It had never been interesting before, but now, with thoughts of the boy with the beautiful brown eyes running through his head, Ranma got down to the serious business of studying the fundamental principles of sex magic.
The first stage, he decided, was to put the boy into the situation where he would accept the binding willingly. This would strengthen it beyond measure, and also ensure that, should it ever be broken or severed, it would regenerate.
So then he began to tease the boy; catching his bread, passing remarks, and just generally being a nuisance. It had the intended effect of irritating his target, but a few times a startled smile flashed across the boy's usually-sullen face. Ranma was rather surprised to find that he was usually looking for that smile. There was something special about it.
It took five days to irritate the boy to the point of issuing a challenge. Ranma was surprised he held onto his temper that long.
"That was MY bread! I, Hibiki Ryouga, challenge you!" The boy finally yelled that lunch break. "Meet me behind the school after last period!"
"Sure," Ranma returned. "I'll be delighted to kick your butt." Inwardly, he was thrilled. Finally! And now he knew his name! The last component of the spell, at last!
The fight was not as short as Ranma had expected. Ryouga wasn't as skilled as he was, nor as fast, but he was much stronger and he had a lot more stamina.
But, finally, he had him on the ground, pinned to the rocky dirt of the vacant lot.
"I win," Ranma panted.
"Yeah," Ryouga coughed.
"Now I get a forfeit," Ranma began. Tracing out the spell pattern in his head, he was pleased to see the lines he'd skipped last period to carefully draw in the dirt begin to glow around them. They hadn't obliterated any of them....
Ryouga nodded. "That's proper, but I haven't got anything with me."
"You have yourself," Ranma put forward daringly. Don't think, say yes, he prayed. Don't think, don't...
"Okay," Ryouga nodded.
The spell lines flared and spun, twisting in to focus on Ryouga. They ran up from the ground onto his body, twisting over his flesh, to form a collar of energy around his throat.
"Wha-"
Ranma didn't let him finish the word, but simply did as he'd been longing to do all week, and stoppered that beautiful, thin-lipped mouth with a kiss. It wasn't the best kiss, for it was both their firsts, but Ranma was too intoxicated with the scent and feel of this, his boy, and the delicate reins of force that held him so. "Mine," he whispered softly as their lips parted. "Mine to do with as I please, for the rest of eternity. Don't talk."
Ryouga's mouth worked, obviously trying to speak, but his vocal cords were obedient to Ranma's will and did not respond to their former owner.
Ryouga stared up at Ranma, eyes wide with fear. Ranma smiled at him, brushing a lock of heavy dark hair away from his eyes. "Don't be afraid. You're my property now, and I'll look after you." And with that, Ranma began to move his hands down Ryouga's body, and the pleasant process of teaching Ryouga obedience....
And now he hung opposite Ranma, waiting for his master to release him.
"You seem rather restless today, Ryouga," Ranma finally commented. "You don't seem to have rested very much."
Ryouga did not make any sound.
"That is rather a shame," Ranma continued. "Because, you see, I had a very frustrating day. And I'm gonna be taking it out on you."
Ryouga's eyes widened as Ranma gestured at the wall. The invisible bonds moved and twisted, so Ryouga found himself being laid down, gently, on the silk of the bed. Then they vanished.
Ranma, meanwhile, had taken a seat in the comfortable, dusty red velvet chair facing the bed. Ryouga sat up, and began to crawl towards him, only to be slammed down by an invisible hand in the small of his back. He sprawled, face first, in the bedclothes.
"I didn't say you could move," Ranma said flatly.
Ryouga was flipped over, and he felt several unseen hands - Ranma's hands, he could feel the calluses - beginning to run over his naked body, up and down and around his limbs.
"It all started when Akane presented me with breakfast, again. You'd think she'd get it through her head that she can't cook, right?"
Ryouga groaned as the hands began to concentrate on specific areas. One was massaging his toes, another was tickling the back of his knee, one was stroking his left shoulder blade, while another was pulling and stroking and pinching his right nipple. The cock ring was releasing and tightening rhythmically around his flesh, stimulating without any further touch.
"Then Shampoo came along on her bicycle. You'd think, if she really wanted me, she'd stop hitting me with that contraption, right?"
The hand from his toes walked slowly up his leg. The cock ring tightened once more, and didn't release.
"God, Kuno's challenge was a relief. But then we had stupid class, which was okay, 'cause I slept through most of it. It was lunch that was the real killer."
The hand was stroking his inner thigh. God, he hated it when Ranma went slow like this. In the flesh it was great, but when he was using just his power to drive him crazy, it really brought home that Ranma owned him.
Which was, of course, the point....
"First, Akane brought out a lunch she'd made for me. Which made Ukyou object, 'cause she was making me an okonomiyaki. And then Shampoo broke down the wall and presented me with her ramen. So all three of them got into a fight, and I didn't get anything."
Ryouga groaned loudly as the hand cupped his balls.
"It's always the same, every freakin' day. You'd think they'd get tired of it, right?"
The hand began to gently stroke his balls, index finger rubbing between them gently, thumb rolling one, ring and little finger pressing the other.
"Oh, but I haven't gotten to the good bit. You won't believe it. Walking home from school, Mousse and Tsubasa both attacked me, at the same time. I'd think they'd gotten the idea of mutual co-operation, if they hadn't attacked each other for attacking me first."
The cock ring began to relax and tighten again.
"Then Kuno charged in, because Mousse had gotten me with some cold water, screaming about his 'pig-tailed goddess'. Shampoo began trying to beat up Mouse for attacking me, and Ukyou charged Tsubasa. I booted Kuno, and Akane malleted me. On general principles more than anything else, I think. What a day."
Ryouga couldn't take it anymore. He came with a strangled shriek. The manifestations of Ranma's power vanished, and he collapsed, panting, against the red sheets.
Ranma smiled as he looked at the endearing sight that was spread before him - of the boy, body pale against the bed, his delicious release pale on his stomach. The creamy liquid gleamed in the light, and he was rather thirsty....
Ryouga came back to himself to feel a soft, warm movement on his belly. He looked down, to see Ranma licking up his seed. He looked up to meet Ryouga's eyes, and Ryouga felt himself stiffening again at the look in those sapphirine depths.
"Glad you're not really a wanderer," Ranma
said softly. "I'm glad I keep you here, when you're not out there.
Because if you were, then I couldn't do this." And then he took Ryouga's
length in his mouth.
It didn't matter how many times he'd done
it before, Ryouga still reacted the same way as he had the first time.
He stiffened and fell back, all his thoughts short-circuiting.
But this time, Ranma didn't suck him to completion. Instead, he stopped, and reached underneath the stockier boy's body. "And I couldn't do this," he whispered, pulling out the butt-plug.
"Nor this," he added, lifting Ryouga's hips and sliding deep into his body. Ryouga shrieked; Ranma hadn't used any lubricant, and even though the stretching from the shallow plug meant that he wasn't torn, it still was distinctly painful. His erection drooped.
"Close your eyes, relax into it," Ranma said unnecessarily. Ryouga reached up, wrapped his arms around Ranma's shoulders, and pulled the slimmer boy down to him, wrapping his legs around Ranma's waist. Breathing deeply, he tried to relax his muscles and quiet the pain.
Ranma looked down at the boy beneath him. In a world where everything he had that was his and his alone could be counted on the fingers of one hand, this boy was a valuable jewel that had fallen into his hands mainly because of luck.
He may have come to me through luck, but I'm not letting him go. You hear me Ryouga? I will never let you go....
Ranma's physical hands danced on Ryouga's sides, pressing the shiatsu points that would quiet the pain and enhance the stimulation. He was rewarded with the sudden presence of a stone rod poking into his stomach. Reaching down, he began to tug on it.
Ryouga rewarded him with a soft cry and a quick thrust of his hips.
It was as if Ranma were the one leashed, and had just been released. With a feral snarl, he reached over and gripped Ryouga's hips, canting them up up and holding them still. He began to thrust in, using his lover's body. He felt himself hit the prostate and began an intense assault on it.
Ryouga felt himself yelling, a babble of pleas for completion, for continuation, for anything except for this to end. He was Ranma's property; no-one else knew him, no-one else cared for him; Ranma was the only sun in his universe and he would do anything, anything, not to let it set....
It was sheet lightning behind his eyelids as he felt his orgasm hit. Ranma heard the beginning of Ryouga's delighted cry, and, suddenly relaxed, dropped them both onto the mattress. He pulled his eyelids open, because he loved to watch Ryouga in orgasm. He always looked as if he'd just discovered the mysteries of the universe.
Ryouga had a bare second to enjoy the feel of Ranma's seed spraying the inside of his passage before his own orgasm, much more intense than his first, hit.
When he came to, a heavy, familiar weight lay on his chest, and he could feel that Ranma, though no longer erect, had not yet left his body. He never did, anymore, not since a fifteen-year-old Ryouga had haltingly confessed that he liked recovering from orgasm with Ranma still inside him.
When he blinked at him, they both smiled. "Those two seemed pretty intense. You okay?" Ranma asked softly.
Ryouga nodded. "Mmm."
"I know it was a dirty trick to play, preparing you to go inside me, and then taking you myself."
"'Sokay. I don't mind. You know I like it both ways."
"Maybe we'll do it that way next time."
"Hmm. Hey, where am I now?"
"Akane got a postcard from Hokkaido yesterday."
"So I'm in Kansai?"
"Sounds cool to me."
"The souvenirs you send me off for are gonna bankrupt both of us."
Ranma chuckled. "I do have to marry the girl, wish I didn't, but family honour 'n'all. After we have the kid to carry on the name, I think I'll arrange for her to meet somebody and get swept off her feet."
"Any particular guy in mind?"
"Nah. She doesn't like boys any more than I like girls."
"Then maybe she's already taken care of it."
"If she had, she wouldn't be nearly as frustrated all the time. Nah, she's not getting any. A situation I will clearly have to rectify."
"So, do you have a girl in mind?" Ryouga asked, interested in spite of himself.
"A few. Can you think of any?"
Ryouga grinned back at his master. "A few."
And together they began to plan.
*****