Lord Amherst's Commission (part 1 & 2, R, ~1 K words)
Title: Lord Amherst's Commission
Author: lilian_cho
Rating: R for unwanted touching
Fandom: Original
Pairing: Future m/m down the road...
Wordcount: ~1 K
Warnings: Unwanted touching, needles
A/N: Part of the
simulacra 'verse. Except this is the Landon storyline, not the Calico storyline ^^;; I'll aim for 500-word updates.
Part one answers holidaysmut's Roses challenge; part two answers Unique names challenge.
The wizard Aurelianus had seen his share of the rich and powerful-wealthy patrons used to having their every whim catered. He had extra incentive to make sure he followed all the specifications of his latest client’s commission, however; Rumors had it that the last wizard who disappointed Lord Amherst ended up a pile of ashes.
The selfsame lord now stood in the middle of his workshop, examining the pale creature sitting docilely on the thin mattress. The simulacrum was bared to his gaze, not even a scrap of cloth to cover its lap. Watching the blank angelic face, Lord Amherst ran gloved fingertips down its cheek. Pale eyelashes swept down and pink lips parted in a soft, soundless sigh.
“Sensitive, as requested,” Aurelianus said, breaking the silence. He tried not to use pronouns with his creations; you never knew what the owners would prefer. He grabbed a long needle from his metal tray and stabbed the simulacrum’s hand. The simulacrum frowned at the embedded needle but didn’t respond otherwise. “I also calibrated for higher pain tolerance.” He plucked the needle out carefully, a bead of clear fluid forming on the simulacrum’s skin.
Lord Amherst’s dark eyes raked over the simulacrum’s petal-soft skin, pink nipples and ash blond hair. He pulled at the simulacrum’s hand, and it followed the unspoken command to stand up. Gloved hands ran firmly over its shoulders and down its arms. The simulacrum didn’t say a single word. Its eyes-green with shots of gold-held the open gaze of a child.
The tall and imposing lord got down on his knees, ignoring the detritus on the dusty wooden floor. He circled his thumb and middle finger around the simulacrum’s right ankle.
“Only the rarest, most precious ingredients were used,” Aurelianus ran his mouth off. He had seen lords leering over large breasts and groping their new simulacrum’s ass, but none had made him as uncomfortable as Lord Amherst’s methodical examination. “I’m all out of virgin blood now; it’s not exactly an easy ingredient to find on the market…”
The simulacrum made a quick, abortive sound. Lord Amherst had run his hands up its legs and was now cupping its cock and balls, which lay soft and vulnerable against satin gloves.
“The simulacrum is like a newborn, in a sense,” Aurelianus launched into his spiel to all new simulacrum owners. “You can expect them to follow the most basic commands. With daily interaction you will see them adapting to all manners of situation with ease.”
Lord Amherst stood up and smiled. “Exquisite. I can see your reputation is well-deserved.” He took off his jacket and draped it over the simulacrum’s shoulder. “It looked every inch a beautiful young man, with skin as easily bruised as a rose.”
***
Joseph Amherst settled into his carriage seat and surveyed his latest purchase with appreciation. Inured to strange going-ons, his coachman hadn’t blinked an eye when Joseph helped the half-naked simulacrum step into the carriage.
Aurelianus charged ten thousand riah more than his competitors, but to Joseph’s discerning eye, the wizard’s creation was worth every single rahk. He was half-tempted to postpone his plans and keep the simulacrum for his personal use. The long pale eyelashes were exactly as ordered, but he didn’t expect the simulacrum’s brilliant, lifelike eyes. All the simulacra he’d encountered before always had sterile, solid-colored eyes.
Inside the warm carriage, the simulacrum appeared more alert and less doll-like. Green-gold eyes looked out the window, around the carriage and over Joseph himself. Returning the open gaze, he idly wondered what the simulacrum made of the horseless carriage. Strictly speaking, a coachman was not needed to direct the carriage. The coachman, just like the seamless sound of horse’s hooves, was merely part of this society’s Old World pretensions. He occasionally muted the carriage sound, which invariably unnerved his guests. Being the Third Earl Amherst entitled him to his eccentricities and his few…vices.
Those vices did not include dallying with simulacra sex toys. Little wonder, considering that his fellow noblemen’s simulacra unfailingly possessed exaggerated features. One had shocking red hair and rosy mounds that threatened to spill over its neckline. Another had eyelashes so thick and long they looked like hairy spider legs. The newest boy-simulacrum an acquaintance purchased was painfully slender and possessed a small, childlike penis. Joseph surmised that the owner had spent his entire life threatened about the size of his manhood.
His musing ended when the carriage pulled smoothly to a stop in front of his estate. The carriage door opened, letting in the soft afternoon light. The simulacrum sat up in its seat and looked at him for direction. He was suddenly struck with the notion that it behaved like a bystander in life.
For the first time, he spoke to the simulacrum directly:
“Follow me.”
***
Upon entering his bedroom, Joseph took off his gloves and placed it on a side table. He planned to accustom the simulacrum to acting the young gentleman as soon as possible. With daily lessons, he was sure he’d have it conversing with natural charm and flawless etiquette. If it came across as ignorant of matters of the world, well-ignorance had its uses.
But first, there was the matter of wardrobe.
He pulled a bell to summon his valet.
“Matthews, this young man has no suitable wardrobe” -or unsuitable wardrobe- “A visit to the tailor is in order. In the meantime, have some of David’s clothes altered to fit.”
Matthews’ eyes flickered over the half-naked figure sitting on the bed, noting sharp collarbones and hair too long to be fashionable.
“And he would need his hair trimmed. Tomorrow.”
Matthews recognized the dismissal and left the room with a half-bow.
Joseph turned to address the simulacrum. “You will address me as Lord Amherst.”
“Lord Amherst,” pink lips shaped the words carefully.
“You are staying here as my ward.” He ran a knuckle across its cheekbone. Pale eyelashes flickered as it dropped its gaze to his chest. “Landon. Your name is Landon Wilder.”
Author: lilian_cho
Rating: R for unwanted touching
Fandom: Original
Pairing: Future m/m down the road...
Wordcount: ~1 K
Warnings: Unwanted touching, needles
A/N: Part of the
simulacra 'verse. Except this is the Landon storyline, not the Calico storyline ^^;; I'll aim for 500-word updates.
Part one answers holidaysmut's Roses challenge; part two answers Unique names challenge.
The wizard Aurelianus had seen his share of the rich and powerful-wealthy patrons used to having their every whim catered. He had extra incentive to make sure he followed all the specifications of his latest client’s commission, however; Rumors had it that the last wizard who disappointed Lord Amherst ended up a pile of ashes.
The selfsame lord now stood in the middle of his workshop, examining the pale creature sitting docilely on the thin mattress. The simulacrum was bared to his gaze, not even a scrap of cloth to cover its lap. Watching the blank angelic face, Lord Amherst ran gloved fingertips down its cheek. Pale eyelashes swept down and pink lips parted in a soft, soundless sigh.
“Sensitive, as requested,” Aurelianus said, breaking the silence. He tried not to use pronouns with his creations; you never knew what the owners would prefer. He grabbed a long needle from his metal tray and stabbed the simulacrum’s hand. The simulacrum frowned at the embedded needle but didn’t respond otherwise. “I also calibrated for higher pain tolerance.” He plucked the needle out carefully, a bead of clear fluid forming on the simulacrum’s skin.
Lord Amherst’s dark eyes raked over the simulacrum’s petal-soft skin, pink nipples and ash blond hair. He pulled at the simulacrum’s hand, and it followed the unspoken command to stand up. Gloved hands ran firmly over its shoulders and down its arms. The simulacrum didn’t say a single word. Its eyes-green with shots of gold-held the open gaze of a child.
The tall and imposing lord got down on his knees, ignoring the detritus on the dusty wooden floor. He circled his thumb and middle finger around the simulacrum’s right ankle.
“Only the rarest, most precious ingredients were used,” Aurelianus ran his mouth off. He had seen lords leering over large breasts and groping their new simulacrum’s ass, but none had made him as uncomfortable as Lord Amherst’s methodical examination. “I’m all out of virgin blood now; it’s not exactly an easy ingredient to find on the market…”
The simulacrum made a quick, abortive sound. Lord Amherst had run his hands up its legs and was now cupping its cock and balls, which lay soft and vulnerable against satin gloves.
“The simulacrum is like a newborn, in a sense,” Aurelianus launched into his spiel to all new simulacrum owners. “You can expect them to follow the most basic commands. With daily interaction you will see them adapting to all manners of situation with ease.”
Lord Amherst stood up and smiled. “Exquisite. I can see your reputation is well-deserved.” He took off his jacket and draped it over the simulacrum’s shoulder. “It looked every inch a beautiful young man, with skin as easily bruised as a rose.”
***
Joseph Amherst settled into his carriage seat and surveyed his latest purchase with appreciation. Inured to strange going-ons, his coachman hadn’t blinked an eye when Joseph helped the half-naked simulacrum step into the carriage.
Aurelianus charged ten thousand riah more than his competitors, but to Joseph’s discerning eye, the wizard’s creation was worth every single rahk. He was half-tempted to postpone his plans and keep the simulacrum for his personal use. The long pale eyelashes were exactly as ordered, but he didn’t expect the simulacrum’s brilliant, lifelike eyes. All the simulacra he’d encountered before always had sterile, solid-colored eyes.
Inside the warm carriage, the simulacrum appeared more alert and less doll-like. Green-gold eyes looked out the window, around the carriage and over Joseph himself. Returning the open gaze, he idly wondered what the simulacrum made of the horseless carriage. Strictly speaking, a coachman was not needed to direct the carriage. The coachman, just like the seamless sound of horse’s hooves, was merely part of this society’s Old World pretensions. He occasionally muted the carriage sound, which invariably unnerved his guests. Being the Third Earl Amherst entitled him to his eccentricities and his few…vices.
Those vices did not include dallying with simulacra sex toys. Little wonder, considering that his fellow noblemen’s simulacra unfailingly possessed exaggerated features. One had shocking red hair and rosy mounds that threatened to spill over its neckline. Another had eyelashes so thick and long they looked like hairy spider legs. The newest boy-simulacrum an acquaintance purchased was painfully slender and possessed a small, childlike penis. Joseph surmised that the owner had spent his entire life threatened about the size of his manhood.
His musing ended when the carriage pulled smoothly to a stop in front of his estate. The carriage door opened, letting in the soft afternoon light. The simulacrum sat up in its seat and looked at him for direction. He was suddenly struck with the notion that it behaved like a bystander in life.
For the first time, he spoke to the simulacrum directly:
“Follow me.”
***
Upon entering his bedroom, Joseph took off his gloves and placed it on a side table. He planned to accustom the simulacrum to acting the young gentleman as soon as possible. With daily lessons, he was sure he’d have it conversing with natural charm and flawless etiquette. If it came across as ignorant of matters of the world, well-ignorance had its uses.
But first, there was the matter of wardrobe.
He pulled a bell to summon his valet.
“Matthews, this young man has no suitable wardrobe” -or unsuitable wardrobe- “A visit to the tailor is in order. In the meantime, have some of David’s clothes altered to fit.”
Matthews’ eyes flickered over the half-naked figure sitting on the bed, noting sharp collarbones and hair too long to be fashionable.
“And he would need his hair trimmed. Tomorrow.”
Matthews recognized the dismissal and left the room with a half-bow.
Joseph turned to address the simulacrum. “You will address me as Lord Amherst.”
“Lord Amherst,” pink lips shaped the words carefully.
“You are staying here as my ward.” He ran a knuckle across its cheekbone. Pale eyelashes flickered as it dropped its gaze to his chest. “Landon. Your name is Landon Wilder.”