The Measure of a Man, 1/1, R, JA/JP (RPS)
Dec. 29th, 2009 01:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: The Measure of a Man
Author:
arliss
Pairing: nominally Jared/Jensen
Rating: R, for mature themes
Words: ~1300
Warnings: A/u, carries on forward from my story, A Changed Man. Deals with the idea of extreme body modification (castration).
Notes: I'm posting this for Arliss, as she has some concerns about the subject matter scaring (and scarring) the non-fannish people on her flist. She sent this to me yesterday, after first sending me some of the most incredible feedback I've ever been privileged to receive on a story. I loved where she took Jensen's character, and then encouraged her to post it, or to allow me to post it for her. Arliss, thank you :) Again, this isn't my story, I'm posting it for someone else. Don't credit me for writing it :) Thanks!
By Arliss
Jensen woke from a dream of riding. His bay stallion had carried him over miles of grassland, and both of them were pleasantly tired as they arrived at the gates of home. Jensen was dismounting, slapping the heavy-crested neck as he handed the reins over to the groom when he slid from dream to wakefulness. Dawnlight fingered into his room over the rooftops of the buildings across the courtyard, and once again Jensen found himself in a far different world than that of his dream. He stretched and yawned and, unwilling to linger awake in bed, slid to his feet and crossed the room to sit and empty his bladder.
His shrunken cock was permanently linked by the ring through the head of it to the ring just in front of his anus, so he was compelled to sit to relieve himself. The linking had been uncomfortable at first, before his cock had lost all ability to erect, and had begun to shrink. Now it was, he guessed, as he had not seen it for a year or two, half the size it once had been and permanently limp. There was no longer an uncomfortable stretch, as the empty skin of his scrotum had shrunk and flattened against his vacant groin. It simply was his reality, and he dealt with it as the price of his family's safety, and that of his people.
A basin of water, fresh last evening and gone cold overnight, sat on the table, a towel and a scraper beside it, and Jensen performed hasty but thorough ablutions, going carefully around his tender breasts and their nipples, stretched by the weight of the rings through them and the chain that linked those rings. He used the scraper on the round slope of his shoulders and noted the now-familiar smoothness where strong biceps used to bulge against the skin. He toweled roughly over his hips, wider than they'd used to be, and the larger curve of his ass, the soft thighs, his rounded belly, his captive cock, the linked rings, and his anus, then down to the knees, his still-strong calves, ankles, and feet that seemed all that remained of the man Jensen had been, not so long ago.
Dry, he slipped his feet into the simple sandals and pulled the single garment he'd won permission to wear over his head. Someone would come and empty the pot and the basin while he was out. He gave no glance toward the fabulously expensive full-length mirror that lurked in the corner, shrouded now.
The emperor had had it brought in to show Jensen his new body shortly after he'd been gelded: his cock still full and proud in front of his empty sack, his broad shoulders, strong arms, deep chest, rippled stomach, and tight, strong buttocks, he'd been adorned with gold rings in nipples, cock, and perenium, his eyes lined with kohl and lips shiny with oil. Jensen had been always naked then, and Jared had visited him often, touched him and whispered endearments and embarrassing compliments in his ears before he bedded Jensen, fingers in his ass stretching his hole, stroking that place inside him that shot sparks through his body and, for a while, hardened his cock. Jared had loved to suck on Jensen's empty sack, nibbling the healed seam where his balls had been stolen--no, not stolen. Given, as ransom for the safety of his home, his people, from Jared's raiding armies. Jared had called him beautiful, brought him to orgasm again and again, fingers playing in the decreasing spurts of clear fluid that pulsed from Jensen's cock as Jared pleasured himself buried to his own balls in his beautiful slave.
But the emperor had other toys that demanded his attention, he could not spend all his time with Jensen. And too, affairs of state took him away for months at a time. It was after such a span of months that Jared saw Jensen again, and noted the changes to his body. Try as he would, his fingers could not find that knot of nerves inside him; he could not bring Jensen to orgasm. Jensen seemed willing to please him, but Jared could tell he felt no pleasure beyond that of receiving attention, of being touched, as one would touch a friend, or a pet. Jared's visits grew farther apart, and when he did come, Jensen would pleasure his emperor with his mouth, dutifully, and even with some affection. But Jensen was no longer capable of passion.
Jared had known this time would come. He had hoped it would be a while longer yet, but that was not to be. He felt some regret, but he couldn't wish he hadn't accepted Jensen's tribute. His slave was still very pretty, if in a strange mixture of female with the male. It didn't kindle desire in Jared, but his pleasure in ownership was not diminished, and he felt some affection for his slave. So it was with more indulgence than he would have shown another slave that he heard Jensen's petition for occupation.
"I can't sit here idle day after day. Give me something to do."
"What would you? Sweeping out stables? Scrubbing scullery floors? You're here for my pleasure, pretty Jensen. You have no other purpose."
"Then I shall die," the slave said, with no note of threat or pathos in his voice.
Jared caught his jaw in a tight, vicious grip. "You end your life, Jensen, and you end our agreement."
Jensen's green eyes widened, hurt and betrayed. "The bargain was that I submit. That I surrender to you in every way. And that I have done, with only one small hesitation, and with my whole heart. I have not broken my bargain."
"And your home and your people are safe. I've kept my side, too. But if you leave me, the bargain is broken."
Jensen's hand came around Jared's wrist where he held the slave's jaw. Warm and gentle, it was not a plea for release as much as it was an acknowledgement of Jared's control. "I do not intend to end my own life, Jared," he reassured his emperor. "But without purpose I shall wither and fade. I do you no honor as a mindless leech upon your grace, bereft now of passion. I still have my intellect, my knowlege. Give me work to do."
Jared searched his slave's face, seeking subterfuge or deceit, and finding only honesty and pain and a plea for help. And so it was that Jensen was given permission to use the library, to use paper and pen and ink, to make inventories, and lists, and to order things so that they made more sense for use. And as he succeeded there, he was granted the privilege of reading old campaign records, studying maps and battle plans. When Jared found him there, they would discuss Jared's plans for battle, deployment of his armies, the strengths and weaknesses of the commands he had faced and the ones he would face in the times ahead.
Jensen was a battle veteran, and he offered his experience and expertise to his lord. After some trepidation and a period of distrust and wonder at Jensen's motives, Jared began to appreciate his slave's candor and vision. Jensen sometimes forgot his station in his enthusiasm for tactics, but Jared was so pleased at seeing him animated again he rarely corrected him. And Jensen always deferred to his master, even at a point on which they might disagree.
Outside the seraglio, Jensen was permitted to wear a garment that covered him from neck to elbows, to knees, and to wear sandals to protect his feet. In his quarters, however, he was expected to be naked, and so he threw a cloth over the mirror's face. If he did not see his reflection, he thought of himself just as Jensen, Jared's Jensen, who worked for his lord and was grateful for the privilege. The sight of his changed body was always a shock, sometimes it saddened him at what he had lost. Sometimes it revolted him in its softness and how wrong and unlike himself it was.
When Jared visited, of course, the mirror was uncovered, but at those times Jensen only saw Jared, so it then it didn't matter.
~fin~
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Pairing: nominally Jared/Jensen
Rating: R, for mature themes
Words: ~1300
Warnings: A/u, carries on forward from my story, A Changed Man. Deals with the idea of extreme body modification (castration).
Notes: I'm posting this for Arliss, as she has some concerns about the subject matter scaring (and scarring) the non-fannish people on her flist. She sent this to me yesterday, after first sending me some of the most incredible feedback I've ever been privileged to receive on a story. I loved where she took Jensen's character, and then encouraged her to post it, or to allow me to post it for her. Arliss, thank you :) Again, this isn't my story, I'm posting it for someone else. Don't credit me for writing it :) Thanks!
By Arliss
Jensen woke from a dream of riding. His bay stallion had carried him over miles of grassland, and both of them were pleasantly tired as they arrived at the gates of home. Jensen was dismounting, slapping the heavy-crested neck as he handed the reins over to the groom when he slid from dream to wakefulness. Dawnlight fingered into his room over the rooftops of the buildings across the courtyard, and once again Jensen found himself in a far different world than that of his dream. He stretched and yawned and, unwilling to linger awake in bed, slid to his feet and crossed the room to sit and empty his bladder.
His shrunken cock was permanently linked by the ring through the head of it to the ring just in front of his anus, so he was compelled to sit to relieve himself. The linking had been uncomfortable at first, before his cock had lost all ability to erect, and had begun to shrink. Now it was, he guessed, as he had not seen it for a year or two, half the size it once had been and permanently limp. There was no longer an uncomfortable stretch, as the empty skin of his scrotum had shrunk and flattened against his vacant groin. It simply was his reality, and he dealt with it as the price of his family's safety, and that of his people.
A basin of water, fresh last evening and gone cold overnight, sat on the table, a towel and a scraper beside it, and Jensen performed hasty but thorough ablutions, going carefully around his tender breasts and their nipples, stretched by the weight of the rings through them and the chain that linked those rings. He used the scraper on the round slope of his shoulders and noted the now-familiar smoothness where strong biceps used to bulge against the skin. He toweled roughly over his hips, wider than they'd used to be, and the larger curve of his ass, the soft thighs, his rounded belly, his captive cock, the linked rings, and his anus, then down to the knees, his still-strong calves, ankles, and feet that seemed all that remained of the man Jensen had been, not so long ago.
Dry, he slipped his feet into the simple sandals and pulled the single garment he'd won permission to wear over his head. Someone would come and empty the pot and the basin while he was out. He gave no glance toward the fabulously expensive full-length mirror that lurked in the corner, shrouded now.
The emperor had had it brought in to show Jensen his new body shortly after he'd been gelded: his cock still full and proud in front of his empty sack, his broad shoulders, strong arms, deep chest, rippled stomach, and tight, strong buttocks, he'd been adorned with gold rings in nipples, cock, and perenium, his eyes lined with kohl and lips shiny with oil. Jensen had been always naked then, and Jared had visited him often, touched him and whispered endearments and embarrassing compliments in his ears before he bedded Jensen, fingers in his ass stretching his hole, stroking that place inside him that shot sparks through his body and, for a while, hardened his cock. Jared had loved to suck on Jensen's empty sack, nibbling the healed seam where his balls had been stolen--no, not stolen. Given, as ransom for the safety of his home, his people, from Jared's raiding armies. Jared had called him beautiful, brought him to orgasm again and again, fingers playing in the decreasing spurts of clear fluid that pulsed from Jensen's cock as Jared pleasured himself buried to his own balls in his beautiful slave.
But the emperor had other toys that demanded his attention, he could not spend all his time with Jensen. And too, affairs of state took him away for months at a time. It was after such a span of months that Jared saw Jensen again, and noted the changes to his body. Try as he would, his fingers could not find that knot of nerves inside him; he could not bring Jensen to orgasm. Jensen seemed willing to please him, but Jared could tell he felt no pleasure beyond that of receiving attention, of being touched, as one would touch a friend, or a pet. Jared's visits grew farther apart, and when he did come, Jensen would pleasure his emperor with his mouth, dutifully, and even with some affection. But Jensen was no longer capable of passion.
Jared had known this time would come. He had hoped it would be a while longer yet, but that was not to be. He felt some regret, but he couldn't wish he hadn't accepted Jensen's tribute. His slave was still very pretty, if in a strange mixture of female with the male. It didn't kindle desire in Jared, but his pleasure in ownership was not diminished, and he felt some affection for his slave. So it was with more indulgence than he would have shown another slave that he heard Jensen's petition for occupation.
"I can't sit here idle day after day. Give me something to do."
"What would you? Sweeping out stables? Scrubbing scullery floors? You're here for my pleasure, pretty Jensen. You have no other purpose."
"Then I shall die," the slave said, with no note of threat or pathos in his voice.
Jared caught his jaw in a tight, vicious grip. "You end your life, Jensen, and you end our agreement."
Jensen's green eyes widened, hurt and betrayed. "The bargain was that I submit. That I surrender to you in every way. And that I have done, with only one small hesitation, and with my whole heart. I have not broken my bargain."
"And your home and your people are safe. I've kept my side, too. But if you leave me, the bargain is broken."
Jensen's hand came around Jared's wrist where he held the slave's jaw. Warm and gentle, it was not a plea for release as much as it was an acknowledgement of Jared's control. "I do not intend to end my own life, Jared," he reassured his emperor. "But without purpose I shall wither and fade. I do you no honor as a mindless leech upon your grace, bereft now of passion. I still have my intellect, my knowlege. Give me work to do."
Jared searched his slave's face, seeking subterfuge or deceit, and finding only honesty and pain and a plea for help. And so it was that Jensen was given permission to use the library, to use paper and pen and ink, to make inventories, and lists, and to order things so that they made more sense for use. And as he succeeded there, he was granted the privilege of reading old campaign records, studying maps and battle plans. When Jared found him there, they would discuss Jared's plans for battle, deployment of his armies, the strengths and weaknesses of the commands he had faced and the ones he would face in the times ahead.
Jensen was a battle veteran, and he offered his experience and expertise to his lord. After some trepidation and a period of distrust and wonder at Jensen's motives, Jared began to appreciate his slave's candor and vision. Jensen sometimes forgot his station in his enthusiasm for tactics, but Jared was so pleased at seeing him animated again he rarely corrected him. And Jensen always deferred to his master, even at a point on which they might disagree.
Outside the seraglio, Jensen was permitted to wear a garment that covered him from neck to elbows, to knees, and to wear sandals to protect his feet. In his quarters, however, he was expected to be naked, and so he threw a cloth over the mirror's face. If he did not see his reflection, he thought of himself just as Jensen, Jared's Jensen, who worked for his lord and was grateful for the privilege. The sight of his changed body was always a shock, sometimes it saddened him at what he had lost. Sometimes it revolted him in its softness and how wrong and unlike himself it was.
When Jared visited, of course, the mirror was uncovered, but at those times Jensen only saw Jared, so it then it didn't matter.
~fin~
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Date: 2009-12-29 05:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-29 07:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-30 02:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-30 03:28 am (UTC)Thanks for your kind comment.