Stoicheia 11: Mercury

by Tem-ve H'syan (tem-ve@gmx.de)



Title: Stoicheia 11: Mercury
Author: Tem-ve H'syan tem-ve@gmx.de
Pairing: whole series Q/O, this chapter X/Other
Rating: NC-17
Archive: MA and my own site

Summary: Xanatos has a night out in style, and makes an important phone call.

Notes: Direct sequel to "Arsenic", this one happens at the same time as "Carbon" and "Iron" on the Q/O side of things. Sort of a dark companion piece, you see? Ah, scrap the literary theory, H'syan, and get down to the smut and scheming... one more thing: I find it hard to believe myself, but this is my 60th slashfic in just over a year. Whew.

Warnings: Bondage. Gang-bang, but no rape. Rough sex, but no non-con. Delightful sexual torture ending in mind-shattering orgasm. Well, what do you expect when Xanatos plays it to the hilt? ;)

Disclaimer: Mekil the rent-boy is mine (is it just me or does he look a bit like Curt Wild?), the other lads are the property of Lucasfilm... not a penny made on this!

Thanks: to all those of you who've fb'ed me so beautifully on this series (Rose, Emila-Wan, MT... Force, I've got fans? Must be something wrong with the universe... :), and to Alex because her musings on mercury inspired me to start this whole blasted series. And look where it's got me!! ;)

It was the look of stunned, half-fearful amazement that always predicted a good night, like the first breath of a well-matured wine's aroma that made your mouth water. This was always the first step, the first move in a dance of wild beautiful delicious cruelty.

The look on the rent boy's face was priceless -- light grey eyes so wide open that the thick sultry kohl framed white all the way round, brows almost disappeared in the artfully messy fringe of bleached blond hair, soft pink mouth agape as if he'd just been offered a halfyear's pay for just one night.

Well, he had.

He was a high-class whore, this one, as Thanian streetwalkers went -- certainly pretty enough to be able to pick and choose among potential customers. Whipcord lean, tall and decadently elegant, this one could afford to be bitchy to commoners. He could afford to be expensive. It was precisely this prideful cocksure attitude that had drawn Xanatos to him. Breaking this one would be a delight indeed.

The pretty boy's mouth was still open in a small, moist 'o' that was slowly driving Xanatos' base instincts to distraction... but his cool grey eyes had begun to register doubt and suspicion at the stranger's generous offer. Who was this sharp-looking, raven-haired man that he had to walk around with two muscular, surly-looking bodyguards by his side? What could possibly make him offer such an unimaginable sum of money for just one night... he wasn't one of these holovid producers that he'd heard about, was he, the kind that buy a whore or a slave for one night and slowly torture them to death on film and then sell the last hours of his pitiful spasming bleeding life to slavering buyers, over and over and over again?

The stranger's voice interrupted his tumbling thoughts, improbably soothing and quiet. "Just the one night, as I said. No permanent damage, nothing that won't heal in a day or two. No further obligations, just this one night. Payment upfront." He whipped a credit chip from his pocket and hooked it up to Mekil's, held out on a trembling hand, and transferred a scary sum of cash without batting an eyelid. "I swear upon my name. Xanatos te Crion."

"N... no holovids either, r-right...?" The boy's voice trailed off as the name registered. This was Xanatos te Crion? The man who was said to own at least half the planet, or at least the bits above the surface that were worth owning... this was him? In eyeliner and... marvellously tight satin pants? Out here prowling the streets of Thani?

Well, that would explain the bodyguards and the fantastic sum of money he'd just offered. The boy blinked, then looked the man up and down, from the sharp polished boots to the thin masculine smile and back. He.... he would have been acceptable if he'd offered a Praldi curry in return for his favours. He was hot.

"No holovids," the quiet voice assured him with a hint of cool amusement in its velvet-over-steel tone, "my memory is good enough to do without poor pictorial representations of what I intend to be a night to remember. I can count on your consent?"

The boy nodded, dizzy. "Y-yes, sir. For your pleasure, for this one night. Call me Mekil." Xanatos smiled. "I promise, as soon as the sun rises, you'll be your own again. Until then, you are mine. Understood?" The smile was blade-sharp and yet incredibly seductive. "Understood."

"To your room, then, sweet thing. I'll follow. Oh, and, I'm sure you don't mind...", he'd caught the boy's curious and slightly suspicious glance, "if my two friends join in, do you? No damage, and I keep my word... Mekil, was it?" The boy 'mmh'ed assent, then relaxed a little. So that was what he was after? A gang-bang party? Or a good hard fuck with an appreciative audience? Whatever... he'd done that before, and it wouldn't be harder this time than it had been the last time. Especially as the two bodyguards weren't exactly repulsive creatures. Big, short-haired, dark-skinned men with well-kept smooth skin over their impressive muscles. No, Mekil grinned to himself, he couldn't see this being too hard. Actually, he could feel it getting a little hard already...

Less than a minute later, he found himself face-up on the table of his rented room, wrists pinned painfully under the heels of one bodyguard's hands while the second held his legs in the vice of his own mighty hard thighs and leisurely peeled the pants off him. His cock was half-hard and outlined beautifully in his tight shiny satin underwear, a warm throbbing delicacy the colour of precious metal. Mekil kept his gaze fixed on Xanatos, watching him watching Mekil as the two brawny guards roughly laid his body bare. A little wriggle, a little bit of the defiant captive maybe... and with a surprised gasp, Mekil thanked his Ghosts that he had remembered to prepare himself as the second guard's hard cock thrust deep into him without warning, wrenching a scream of pain from his throat, a scream that died down into a moan as the big guard stilled, anxious to have hurt what was his lord's property for the night.

But Xanatos only smiled encouragement, with a wicked glint in his eye that the guard knew only too well, and the next second the boy was screaming again as he slammed into him hard and ruthless, using him like a beast, and making him roar like one, whether in pain or in lust he no longer knew. Xanatos waved at the other guard, who had been leaning on Mekil's outstretched wrists, watching in greedy delight, a sizeable erection between his own thighs. "You may silence him." The guard grinned, switched hands and leapt up like a giant cat, landing gracefully on the table, straddling Mekil's throat while still pinning the boy's wrists down. Slowly, almost tenderly, he pulled the slight young man's arms up until he could grasp both wrists in one of his huge hands, then, with a moist greedy smile, undid his pants and let his cock spring free, big and hard and glistening with arousal. Humming soothingly, he ran a hand through the boy's hair, feeling the shudders running through his entire body, echoes of the savage thrusting his colleague was still dealing out, in time with the boy's hoarse screams... the hand tightened in the messy blond hair and pulled the keening young man's head close, thick hard cock sliding into screaming mouth almost naturally.

"Gmm-mhmmmpmmm!!" Oh yes, that was more like it. Much more. The muffled screams were turning into moans now, small rhythmic moans, and the boy had begun to thrust his hips back on to the guard's cock as he pistoned in and out of him. Such a beautiful sight, these two large strong men possessing the writhing pale boy and turning him into a twitching mass of need... Xanatos had begun to stroke himself through the taut fabric of his pants, purring encouragement to his men as they claimed and filled the writhing boy... "Oh yes, fuck him, fuck him good and hard, stuff him full of you... see how he wriggles, oh Gods I bet he wants more, don't you, little slut? What it harder? Faster? Want to be fucked raw until you scream... and you can't scream, dear boy, not gagged as you are with that marvellous piece of flesh. Oooh, and look how you're sucking. Good, it's so good, isn't it, little cocksucker? So good. Want more, huh? Look what you're doing to my man, lad, look at his face, he's close, so close... ah, but you can't, can you? Your face is buried in his curls, mouth stuffed with that mighty cock, and you love it, little whore, you love it. Look at yourself. Hard, huh? Gagging for it, your little cock standing to attention under that shiny thing... you like how the string digs into your arse, pulled aside just enough to let him fuck you, pants around your knees, shirt pushed up and two big cocks fucking you at both ends... yes, drink him, drink him up, little slut, suck him dry. Good, isn't it? Good... Suck harder, lick him clean, don't let go until you feel the heat inside your arse, now, now, fuck yes... stop. Stop!"

With mechanical precision, the two guards withdrew, one still shuddering from his orgasm, leaving a whimpering, half-naked and desperately aroused Mekil on the table. He tried to lever himself up on his elbows, but found himself pinned in place by invisible bonds. Horrified, he looked up at Xanatos, who smiled, the glint of desire in his eyes a sharper mirror image of his own.

"Would you prefer them real? Like so?" With a flick of his wrist, Xanatos called a long scarf to his hand, yanked his pants off and wrapped it around Mekil's ankles, tying them to the table legs, spread wide. With an amused grin, Xanatos looked up from his work and sniffed at the boy's raw pink opening. "I could swear I smell white vanilla here...", he murmured mischievously before darting the tip of his tongue against the sensitive pucker. Mekil moaned, writhing on the table, trying to get more of that tongue on him, in him, wherever. "Aaaah, methinks you're still too noisy, dear. Is that not so?" Another teasing lick to the boy's perineum, then Xanatos took the strap of the boy's g-string in his teeth and pulled it taut, letting it snap against tender pink skin. Mekil whimpered, loudly.

"Tut, tut. We don't want you waking up the neighbours, do we, boy? Remember, we're going to be here all night...". Seductively slowly, Xanatos pulled off his own belt, then prowled over to the head of the table. One cool strong hand closed around Mekil's wrist, blessed coolness to a body that felt like boiling over with unfulfilled need. Who was this man that his mere presence could make a simple artless fuck seem like pure heaven? What the fuck was he using on him, and when, oh fuck when was he going to let him come?

A silken curtain of black hair fell around the boy's face as Xanatos leaned down to capture his mouth in a savage kiss, sucking another breathless scream from the boy's lips as the belt slapped across his chest, leaving a stinging pink line across both nipples. He had... he had uncannily good aim too... ooooh... let me come...

Xanatos drew the kiss out a little longer, possessing the warm moaning cavity with his long hard tongue, biting the soft lips, licking the hoarse screams off as he gently slapped the end of the belt across the boy's nipples, just enough to sting and make him arch off the table, torn between writhing away from the pain and writhing into the touch, the improbable rush that every touch from that beautiful cruel man fed into his slowly overloading body. When the belt wrapped around his wrists, tightly, digging into skin bruised from the guard's assault earlier on, it was almost a caress, swamped by the heady attack of the man's kisses. He let himself be tied down almost shamefully eagerly, whimpering at the loss of contact as Xanatos stood up and surveyed his prize.

"Keen, are you? Oh, you should see yourself... my little feast. Spread, bound, ready to use, and gagging for it... hear yourself whimper for me, slut. Look at... this." With an evil smile, he grasped Mekil's cock through the stretched thin fabric of the thong he was still wearing, making the boy arch up and keen loudly. With a mock start, Xanatos drew his hand away as if he'd been scalded, then drew a short thin knife from his boot and cut the straps that were barely holding the boy's underwear in place. A pitiful rag of silvery-grey fabric slid off a beautiful rosy erection.

"Hmmm, a bit too eager, wouldn't you say? You can't possibly last all night with this, boy." With that, Xanatos dug his thumbs into the pressure point below Mekil's balls, making him roar in frustration as he felt his cock soften, the arousal dissipating into his entire body, making him twitch and tingle all over. Xanatos sighed theatrically. "All right, you asked for it. Didn't you?" As if thrown by magic, the silvery rag that had been Mekil's underwear zoomed up towards his face and stuffed itself into the moaning mouth.

"Mmmh-ggmmmmpphh!!"

Xanatos released Mekil's now-limp cock and sauntered to the top end of the table. "Yes, I'm sure you think so, lad. But let me tell you, you sound much nicer like that..."

The boy writhed fruitlessly in his bonds, trying to pull his hands up off the tabletop where they were still pinned by something more than just the belt, trying to spit out the gag that was held in place by one cool fingertip as Xanatos pulled something out of his back pocket and examined it leisurely, holding it up to the light as if he had forgotten what the shapeless black item was that he'd been carrying in his pocket all evening.

Thin warm leather settled on Mekil's face, pulled taut by deft hands and fastened at the back of his neck, very very tightly, but just not quite painfully. Not really... Mekil felt the pressure on the bridge of his nose, thin supple leather encasing his chin and cheeks, holding the blasted gag in place that filled his mouth with the faint taste of his own need... and now the warm scent of the leather filling his nostrils... he yelped as a second strap was pulled tight, this one passing into the inside of the mask at the cheeks and securing the gag inside his mouth, cutting cruelly into the corners and being pulled into another tight knot at the back of his neck.

The yelp was little more than a soft whimper, and Xanatos smiled indulgently. "Very pretty. Very pretty... gives you just the slightest avian touch. It suits you, boy. You should wear this more often. Oh, except when you're getting your beautiful mouth fucked, of course..." With that, Xanatos waved the small mirror over from the washstand and showed Mekil the vision he was presenting. Flushed, wide-eyed with need, the bottom half of his face covered in smooth black leather, from the bridge of his nose to under his ears. A small voice in the back of his head told him this was a construction that would be impossible to dislodge without the use of his hands. The rest of his mind just screamed for Xanatos to fuck him.

Xanatos chuckled, trailing cool fingertips over the thin leather, finding lips and drawing urgent muffled moans from Mekil's throat with the faintest touch... oh yes, this one was ripe. Very ripe.

Moving back to the other end of the table, Xanatos undid his pants, letting them slide to the tops of his boots, exposing long lean white thighs and an impressive hardness. The greedy moan from Mekil's gagged mouth was most satisfactory, and the boy's unruly cock was beginning to swell again too. Very well then. With a feral grin, Xanatos plunged inside the boy's heat, slick with white vanilla oil and his predecessor's seed.

"Mmmmmmmmmggghh!!"

"Yes, I bet you.... like that... don't you... little... slut...?" Xanatos' voice was low and liquid now, soaked with animal lust and punctuated by short and shallow thrusts that just barely grazed Mekil's prostate, making him arch and writhe for more, desperate for a harder touch, maddened with need already, groaning and whimpering for more, harder, please... the hand closed around the base of his cock again, dissipating the arousal into his whole body and keeping him from coming as he writhed on the tabletop shamelessly, watching from the corner of his eye as the two guards masturbated on the couch, delighting in his discomfort that was... oh... so good...

So good...

He had lost track of time, but the room had gone silent but for his own needy whimpers and Xanatos' deep measured groans as he thrust into him, harder now, but never quite hard enough, keeping an iron grip on his cock and keeping him on the edge of blissful oblivion for what seemed like hours. The red on the edge of his vision could be dawn... but it could just as well be madness, or ecstasy, or both... oh, and he needed, he so needed to let go, to come, to explode with all the arousal this man had pumped into him, steadily, smiling and pumping, possessing him totally... in a last-ditch effort, Mekil thrust his hips back onto Xanatos' cock yet again, moaning and pleading with red-rimmed eyes for more, for release, for anything now, anything...

And he got it. The thrusts got harder, faster, deeper, smooth hard belly slapping against hypersensitive balls, squeezing, hard cock raking across his prostate harshly, drawing wild moans from him, and then... then a hand touched his mind and poured white-hot quicksilver directly into his brain, overload, pure ecstatic overload...

"Ggmmmmm! Ggmmmmmm! Ggmmmhhhhh-hhhh-hhhh..."

He felt warm seed trickle down between his cheeks when sensation returned to his body, felt the bonds being loosened and undone, felt the gag being removed from a mouth gone slack with that last scream. Felt incredibly warm and liquid and overwhelmed, close to tears and laughter, little aftershocks zinging through his body, jerking his muscles awake as he stretched and sat up. This was no mere orgasm... this was... fucking incredible. And before him stood the man who had done this to him, the absolute incarnation of perfection. Oh Gods, this man...

Sliding off the table, Mekil dropped to his knees at Xanatos' feet, wrapping his slender arms around the man's half-dressed legs, nuzzling his face into his warm musky groin. "Oh, oh, oh... oh. Oh. Master...," Mekil swallowed as if searching for his voice, "Master. Keep the money. Just... take me. Take me with you. As your lover... as your slave, whatever. Need you... say yes, just say yes, please..."

Xanatos smiled, that thin blade-sharp smile, then slowly pulled up his satin pants. Oh Gods, but he was even more magnificent now, the full satisfaction of sex written on his handsome features... so adorable...

With a slight wave of his hand, he called his muttering guards to himself, fisted one hand in Mekil's hair and extricated himself from the kneeling boy's embrace. Looking down on the grovelling needy figure, he did the one thing that always gave him the greatest satisfaction on nights like this.

"No."


The flag light on his comm unit was on when he returned home long after dawn. Ah. The mission data. Trusty old silicon. Well, this would be the start of a long working day... the adrenaline in his system would be more than enough to tide him over until dark fell again.


"All I'm asking is that you let them go without letting it appear so, right? I assure you, they will not come to endanger the galaxy or your client's plans.."

"How cän you be surre of this, sirr?", an oily, heavily-accented voice interrupted.

Xanatos gathered his composure, putting a little steel in his voice. "Because one of them will be dead, and the other will be my captive, never to return to the world again. For your purposes, you may consider both of them dead."

"I don't like this plän -- if the ambässadors will be Jedi, as you say... then they should not be läft to go frree att all!"

"Oh yes? And just how were you proposing to do this?", Xanatos' patience was clearly at its snapping point after half an hour of the Trade Federation's vacillating and cowardice. Especially after a sleepless night. "Poison gas, eh? Well, I can tell you first hand that we... the Jedi can control their bodies to a stunning extent," a deep breath to clear his mind and reinstate the scowl, "so that won't hurt them one bit, sirs. Look, it's easy," he leaned in closer to the screen, lowering his voice theatrically, "all I'm asking is for you to pull that little poison gas number as you intended and then letting them get to Naboo. Let the droids do their bit, a little useful shooting and rushing around, and leave the actual killing to me, all right? I assure you upon my name, and what's more, my fortune, that these two Jedi will never be heard of again, sirs."

"I still don't like itt, but I suppose...," a longer pause, during which some meaningful grimaces were exchanged with another Neimoidian off-screen. Xanatos smiled. He was getting there. "I suppose we could feign ignorrance of the fäct that the ambässadors arre änything but orrdinary humans..."

"Very well you could," Xanatos encouraged, "you'll be quite blameless, and I assure you no trace of them will ever been seen again. Actually, I might leave you with the body of the younger one, if that makes the transaction easier for you..."

"Hmmm. Thät sounds good... too good to be trrue almost. If it was just forr us to decide, we might be tämpted... but our client... powerrful, you see?"

The look of dread that had crept on to the Neimoidian's face spoke volumes. Cowards to a man, Xanatos thought contemptuously. Or to a bug-eyed noseless green creature anyway. "All right, all right," he sighed, "so the promise of exclusive business opportunities with the Offworld conglomerate and toll-free shipping to Telos can't sway you, eh?"

"It is a verry fine offer, sirr, but we are not äcting upon our own orders in this mätter, and so...", the Neimoidian shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably, clearly pained at having to give up such a business opportunity for the sake of his own safety.

"Fine." Xanatos sighed theatrically, then straightened himself in his seat. "I, Xanatos te Crion, pledge my life to you or your shady client if you so wish, in case this venture should fail. Yes, that's how certain I am. And," with a smirk on his handsome features, "with a business empire like mine, I should not exactly be hard to track down, eh? Everyone knows me, sirs. I guarantee you, if but one of these two Jedi escapes with his life, my life will be yours to do with as you please." It's not going to be worth much to me any more anyway if Kenobi decides to wreak revenge, he added to himself.

More grimaces off-screen. "That sounds... morre acceptable, yes. One life to appease the escäpe of two..." -- "It would save ourr necks," the second Neimoidian cut in from the sidelines, "let's do itt." The Neimoidian on screen nodded at Xanatos. "Mäy we use the recorrding of this conversation as your plädge, sir Te Crion?"

"Of course you may. So it is settled, then? Good business, sirs. You won't regret this. Oh, and... go easy on the poison gas, right?" With a smug smile, Xanatos terminated the connection and leaned back in his chair.

Yes. Possibilities. Probabilities. The future. The future was like mercury... liquid, heavy, impossible to grasp. Toxic, even. And beautiful. Xanatos smiled. The future, like mercury, was throwing the image of his own face back at him. And it wore a wide blade-thin smile.

This time it would be failsafe. He'd managed to talk the Trade Federation into putting their ships down on swampy ground, smack in the middle of the Wegg forest, full of treacherous pitfalls and unexpected waterholes. Sure, the poison gas would be released and the battle droids would come after them, and if Kenobi managed to get himself mown down by one, so much the better -- but battle droids alone could not really be trusted to dispatch a team of two Jedi. No, it would have to be a smaller danger, one easily overlooked, one that would work in conjunction with the swamps, distract the Master for just those crucial minutes, leaving the pup in the water, fending off the droids zooming overhead... with his lightsabre ignited.

Yes. If he didn't manage to electrocute himself, he'd eventually get felled by one of the battle droids. His own incompetence, you see? Tough luck. And Qui-Gon will arrive too late, and will find his precious little Padawan floating face-down in the swamp. Bet you'll be disappointed, Qui, won't you? Taught him so well and all that... oh well, the more for me. Oh yes, rest assured I will comfort you. Broken Masters are my speciality.

A small danger. One overlooked in the face of large ones, but impossible to bypass. I've known you for too long, Master, to ever forget your soft spot for pathetic life forms. Just a little distraction... maybe I'll have you save its life, I'm certain it can be made to act clumsily enough for you to believe that. Oh yes, you'll defend yourself against the droids, you'll smash them to bits with their own blaster bolts, Master, I know that. But you'll get stuck trying to get rid of that bumbling swamp creature without being rude. Ever the diplomat, Qui.

And a minute or two of desperate politeness will do completely -- what the arsenic didn't do, the wholly more innocent water will achieve, and without you to defend him, he'll be easy prey, disarmed as he is.

Ingenious, isn't it? The future winks at me with my own eye, still smudged with antimony and glassy with the lack of sleep, but oh, what a victory this will be. So easy, so devastatingly clever and easy. I tell you, Master, the future is liquid. One little nudge and it'll flow in the direction you want it to. You'll see.

And I'll see too. Do you know I've been making a new stun dart, Master? Just for you. With carfa feathers. Soundless. And blue as your eyes. As they will be when you collapse at my feet, Qui-Gon, eyes wide open but unable to see. You'll see. Eventually. I'll make you.

And now excuse me while I take a nap. You know, my transport for Naboo is scheduled tomorrow morning. I'll be there, Master... I'm counting on you.

---The End---