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White Canvas	By : Laryna6 Category: +G through L > Legacy of Kain Views: 1862 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Legacy of Kain, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-White Canvas
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
Disclaimer: I don�t
own Legacy of Kain nor make money for letting it live in my brain.

This was started at
2:30am because I had a desire to do something (besides RPing with the muse
Nemi), and none of the things I should be working on appealed, so she suggested,
when asked what I should write, porno in addition to SIn and Angel Harp. She
failed to specify pairing, and as I type this I don�t know the pairing myself.
Well, I�ll come up with something.

The actual sex scene
was RPed between myself and Nemi, who does much better smut & Vorador than
I, then edited. This will be a multi-parter.

-

The decision to seduce Vorador had not been made lightly. As
a human, he had frequently made use of whores: he had known his greatness even
then, and had no reason to deny himself the pleasures of the flesh. The problem
came when one allowed them to become one�s only focus, as Vorador had when his
leadership could have prevented the vampire race from dwindling to only the two
of them.

As Kain had still not been able to sire, it was fortuitous
that Vorador had survived, otherwise what would he have done for an army?

In any case, being a vampire meant that one did not have to
pay whores: in fact, drinking their blood enriched one instead of them being a
drain on the purse.

However, now he had an army to worry about. They had to have
the proper respect for their leader. And, among Vorador�s fledglings, there was
the firm opinion that sleeping with one�s victims was like a child playing with
their food: he had needed to quell jokes revolving around his habit of doing
so.

No, the consensus was that sleeping with humans was no
better than sleeping with goats. Ornery animals that didn�t know their place,
but animals none the less.

No, when his army wished to indulge their urge (which they
seemed to do at least once a night), they slept with other vampires.

Kain had to admit the prospect appealed. While he despised
the decadence Vorador had passed on to his fledglings, he had no doubt that he
had trained them well in such acts and they had decades of experience. Not to
mention that with vampires there was a small chance of intelligent
conversation, unlike with humans. Also, he presumed the relationship would
involve drinking the other�s blood, which tasted far better than human blood,
but he had no opportunity to do so since his encounters with Vorador�s brides.

However, he had been schooled in military science as a
human. Sleeping with one�s subordinates caused all manner of problems. Nor was
a relationship with someone outside his army likely to happen: vampires that
had rejected his leadership were clearly fools and not worthy of the honor of
being his bedmate.

That, in effect, left only one option.

It was, in fact, an attractive one: leaving aside Vorador�s
legendary experience, there was also his legendary status as Father of the
Vampires.

That depraved fool, Father of the Vampires while Kain was
impotent� he bared his teeth at the thought.

In any case, sleeping with a fledgling younger than him
would lower them to the fledgling�s level. Sleeping with Vorador, making it
clear that Vorador was the only one worthy to share his bed, would in fact
elevate his status in the eyes of the ignorant fledges.

There was, of course, Magnus, who Kain was well aware felt
that foolish emotion called love for him, but better to string him along, give
him fragments of hope than actually do the deed. Lovers who felt slighted and
were overemotional could cause problems, he had heard, even if they weren�t
women.

He had known it would not be hard to gain access to
Vorador�s bed: the fool had in fact tried to seduce him on his first visit to
Vorador�s mansion. As though he would render himself vulnerable in a house
where he had been attacked so many times! It had been an insult to his
intelligence.

He simply reminded Vorador of the offer and asked if it was
still open.

Vorador looked at him for a moment, and he saw wheels
turning. Vorador, due to his age, was the only one Kain regarded as near his
level of intelligence. He was wondering what had changed Kain�s mind.

Not to mention that even though Kain had proven his loyalty
to the vampire race, was the leader Vorador had failed to be, Vorador didn�t
trust him. Perhaps it was the madness that infected him: Vorador had learned of
his nature as Balance Guardian. Still, had not Kain proved he could control it
by now? He had been dealing with it since he was born.

Hopefully, this encounter and the following ones might cause
Vorador to feel one of those emotional connections people not infected with
madness at birth felt for others. Frankly, Kain was glad he didn�t feel them:
they clouded one�s judgment and made otherwise sensible people do utterly mad
things.

Vorador clearly wanted to use this to see Kain unguarded, to
be able to know him better.

Who would come out of this on top was to be seen.

Vorador led him to a bedchamber that was despicably
decadent: the mansion had been rebuilt more glorious than before. �Have you
slept with a man before?� Vorador asked, opening a cabinet with odd objects in
it.

�Of course,� Kain answered. He had a preference for brave
black-haired men with strength: those had been his choices for human bedmates
during the war, men unlucky enough to be captured in battle and catch his eye.
It was exciting when they tried to stand up to him, when their spirits broke.
He had briefly considered Faustus for this reason.

�I assume you were always the penetrator,� Vorador
commented, amused for some reason.

�Of course.� Submit to a whore or a human? Ha.

�Have you ever made use of any objects?� Vorador held out a
dildo.

�No.� Such toys were distractions from the main event.

Vorador chuckled. �My, do you have a lot to learn. Of
course, you have no sire, so you only learned about sex from humans.� He rolled
his eyes. �Humans breed themselves with less art than they breed cattle.�

�Well, at least the nobility does pay some attention to
bloodlines, but the peasants do as you say.�

"As do the vaunted nobility,
Kain. They care for little more than siring as many squalling filth
makers as possible upon their wives. They have no artistry. They
have no true appreciation for sex beyond thinking it a momentary respite."

He laid objects from the cabinet down upon a low table topped with cushioned
crushed velvet and a raised edge of lace like iron work. Dildos, and
objects he didn't recognize

"Whereas you are a master of the art."

"Such as there is.
Creativity is boundless, after all, and there are a few places I won't
venture."� He coiled a long piece of
dark leather which Kain did not see the significance of. It could not be
a restraint because it was already knotted heavily; each of the ten knots was a
bit larger than a shooter marble and spaced less than a thumb's width
apart.� "You will become very familiar
with my 'toys' I trust."

"I have never seen the point
of them, but I am sure in your hands I will soon learn," he said lightly as he sat on the edge of the bed. �He would have to tread carefully. From any
other he could demand due respect, but Vorador considered himself senior, and
he could not risk offending the creator of his army. He might have to be the
catamite, though if there was not reciprocation he would find another way of fulfilling
his needs.

"Ah yes,
unless you wish to become familiar with my hands," he held out his talons
smiling, "When there were more of us not all were so blessed"
Kain, like most of his army, had blackened hard, sharp nails. Vorador
presented three frighteningly sharp talons for the most part covered with
calloused green skin.

"Ah." He meant for preparation. Kain had rarely bothered with that.

Vorador dismissed
him with his eyes and turned back to his cabinet, fancifully shaped oil vials
like lady's perfume bottles. "I'd not trust your claws upon me nor
these in your claws until you gained some skill.� One need not use them, of course, but even
with my skill, Kain, it can be chancy if you squirm too much." And
he turned, oil and smallest dildo in hand, "And I do not wish to restrain
you."

So he was going to have to play the catamite. He stripped off his pants.
"How should I lie on the bed?"

He was not that aroused: Vorador was still clothed, and the prospect of being
the woman had dampened his ardor.

He sighed and the
very tips of his ears dipped downwards as he looked heavenward, "No art. On your back
Kain. I desire you to be unrestrained so I may fully appreciate your
reactions, if I cannot see your face then what is the point?"� He
would have rather Kain come to him, embrace, touch, begin the process while
allowing Vorador to hint that there were more than horizontal positions.
He put the items down on the table and picked up the tray that topped it. He set it down beside
Kain's hips and looked down upon the second oldest Vampire in existence (hah,
not even a century old and he was just that) with derision at his simplistic
positioning. And no arousal, proof enough Kain had no imagination.

Kain spread his legs wider, hoping Vorador would take the hint and get on with
it. "You will have to forgive my lack of experience, as I have only slept
with humans, and why learn art for their benefit?"

"Why not
learn for your benefit?" Obviously Kain took him for the same sort as humans.
Right to the point, and when his partner was not aroused? It was bad
manners to start on the ending before the other had even begun, and no fun at
that. Oh he could do what Kain expected and make him like it.� Vorador's highest art was making people like
what he wanted them to, even if he was extracting bone slivers from their ribs. But Kain needed to
learn art if he was ever going to deal with the ennui of centuries, and he
would not begin so crudely as fulfilling expectations. He traced razor claws
up Kain's inner thigh so carefully it felt like quill points.

Kain watched. "That is one of the reasons I sought you out for this."
The sensation was not pleasant, but pleasurable: he disliked the threat but it
tantalized.

Up, hand coming
to lay flat against his flesh as the tips of his claws touched against his
groin; the slight crevice where thigh joined his pelvis. And yet, and yet
he did not touch anything important.�
Close though, close as false
dawn to true dawn.

Kain supposed he should reciprocate. Part of the goal was to cause Vorador to
develop emotional ties to him, and implied being lovers instead of merely
sating a need with each other. Kain knew he inspired loyalty, even love, but he
did not know how it happened, other than approbation of his greatness and
vision.

How could he study what he did not feel? Sometimes, as much as he appreciated
the lack of the weak emotions he supposed was due to the curse, he wished he
felt them at least a little: he was sure he could learn to control them, and such
would help him better study them.

Slide up to the
top of his thigh, hand still flat, and then to the less sensitive outer thigh,
yet still some how compelling as he turned his hand so his knuckles lightly
brushed over skin.� The sensations focused Kain's attention, as they were meant
to do.� Faint touch when firmness was
expected, softness when strength was desired, the division is what drew
attention to these sensations that were barely there, a division that would
only increase as Kain became more aroused from Vorador�s art.

The impulse was to close his eyes to appreciate them more fully, but he needed
to watch Vorador, especially as he was so vulnerable here, with the Soul Reaver
leaned against the wall near the entrance, not ready to his hand.� Vorador slid down then, not up as was desired, but down to Kain's knee, claw touching
the underside briefly.

Normally anyone who made a threat to him was destroyed, but here the threat
seemed to increase the impact of the touch: strange, when Kain had always
craved to be the one inciting fear, not feeling it. Why did Vorador not make
the threats a reality?� Why
did it not feel like a threat, when his mind knew it to be one? He was well aware of Vorador's sadistic tendencies, after
all, and wondered when the threats would be carried out.

Now, at least,
Vorador's touch became firmer on his shin, but not painful. He framed the
bone and the hard muscle and tendon just around it between two knuckles, squeezed
and pulled down to his ankle.

The thing to do was probably to abandon himself to the sensation as much as he
could: Vorador would most likely not attack him (was that why he didn�t
register the threats?), and focusing on his paranoia was lessening his ability
to enjoy his first encounter in far too long. He should be watching and
learning, not watching for the blow to fall and the assault to begin: Vorador
knew Kain would have vengeance of Vorador dealt with him as he did with humans.

Down to his ankle
and squeeze there in places that felt completely good in a completely nonsexual
way.� Careful, purposeful massage done
with the blunt sides of blades.

This wasn't even increasing Kain's arousal, though it was relaxing him. Ah,
that was Vorador's intention to have him relax his guard and become more
amenable. Kain was willing to allow that.

Vorador's sharp
thumb claw pressed just above Kain's heel as he drove his knuckle into the
arch. "Your feet won�t change for several centuries yet, despite how
quickly you gained magical strength. It gives us more time."

So his hands would become talons? He certainly hoped he wouldn't become green.
And those ears! He liked his hands, black taloned, his pale skin and hair.� It was good, however, that already Vorador
thought there would be more time, more times between them.
�
He caressed
again, quills again, but also the other end, feather light and tickling.� Kain couldn't
utterly restrain his reaction to the tickling: he managed to not laugh, but he
shook the hands that held his thighs spread slightly, claws scraping them
and a couple drawing blood.

"Hmm,"
Vorador was surprisingly gentle when he urged Kain to bend his knee.
Leaning down in the new space and turning inwards he licked the droplets, his
ear extending upwards enough to give Kain partial decency.

Kain, on impulse, felt the ear, wondering at its softness, like kid gloves.� Thin
muscles extended along the leading edge. Not as mobile as a wolf, no,
about the same as the jokester boy who had shown off in Kain's youth. It
was only the size of Vorador's that made the movement seem large, the tips
were mobile though, for as Vorador lapped at Kain's clean thigh the tip folded
down over his finger.

That mouth so near him made him think of it wrapped around him, feeling hard
fangs press against him: as long as the threat was not carried out, it would be
quite invigorating.

Slide along his
thigh, the side of his muscles pressed into the bed, flick his jutting hip
bone.� The taunt stack of his abdomen, the cutting edges
of his claws going sideways at the very bottom of Kain's death scar.� Kain was already
growing slightly hard, and without a touch in the most important place!

Vorador looked up
at him, tongue paused and dully pink on pale skin, both wanting Kain�s
attention and sensing his own was desired.�
"Truly, I have been missing out on
much," Kain murmured. Vorador working to pleasure him, like a whore or a
broken soldier willing to do anything for money or mercy, gave him a feeling of
such power. He needed to see himself devoured by those green lips. "Is it
too early, or..." the pad of a finger touched the tongue carefully, not to
cut, "Might I be treated to the skills of this part of you somewhere more
central?"

Eye to eye he
slowly pulled his tongue back into his mouth, leaving a slight trail, knowing
the movement was followed utterly by Kain�s eyes. "Impudent,
impatient wretch," he said without heat nor chill, but rather some
amusement. "Though perhaps I should bless myself for the fact you
know more than one position."�
He reached out and lightly
flicked the head of Kain's growing erection.

Muscles tensed to hold himself from greater reaction, "Impatience is one
of the flaws of youth, and as you say so often I am very young," Kain replied, hissing at first, deeply
amused despite it.

"You are
second eldest," Vorador opened his mouth to set his lips around Kain's
knob. Unfortunately, it was not the one Kain desired him to work on.� Vorador had put his lips to Kain's bent knee,
carefully setting his incisors to the thicker, creased skin that not even
vampiric divinity could rid a body of. Vorador slowly ratcheted his mouth
closed, his teeth wetly moving over flesh, over each ridge and into each
groove. Kain's foot was flat on the bed and Vorador pressed his knuckles into the
hollow between tendons on either side.

Was this a sexual encounter or a massage? Though, 'massage parlors' were often
truly high-class whorehouses. And there was no whore higher than Vorador. Kain
smirked despite his deep displeasure at the brevity of the contact.

Vorador's tongue
was moving, wet and pressure, against the bottom of his knee cap. Soft
sensations that clashed with the maiming threat of his teeth and of a claw
running up the tendon like a barber's knife.

As the claw moved over the ridges of the tendon, the, the slight increases of
pressure as it moved through the valleys caused him to have to suppress shivers;
each time his body instinctively feared that Vorador would continue to dig in,
hamstring him, leave him helpless prey until it healed as Kain would love to do
to him. The threat combined with the deliberation with which Vorador did it and
Kain's rising anticipation made the simple touch as erotic as the previous ones
had been.� The threat still existed
though and kept Kain still. Perhaps this withholding of true intercourse was a
method of torment? Kain found the thought interesting: he would like to learn
to apply it. Of course, the problem was that the humans he had taken were
usually desperate to avoid intercourse, instead of wanting it. That was the
difference between rape and a willing partner, though rape certainly had its
benefits.

Vorador shifted
to a careless kneeling position with casualness and swiftly changed his
approach, seizing his hips suddenly and pulled him down over crimson velvet and
wine linen leaving Kain's head where his hips had once been. Vorador seemed
to take up more space, and he was dressed, the ends of his coat a rumpled pool
around and behind him while Kain was fully nude. He touched, lightly and yet with the heel
of his hands, the sides of Kain's chest. His touches went with the rib grain
and moving up a step at a time.� Claws
against the muscles that controlled his shoulder.

Kain, yielding slightly to impatience, tried to pull Vorador closer with his
legs.
Cloth, the finest
in Nosgoth for Vampiric weavers and tailors had centuries to perfect their art,
rubbed against Kain's inner thighs and calves. To his groin the folds
were a strange hell and a sought after heaven; but no erection strived towards
his own through the layers.

He scowled in impatience and pushed himself up from the bed, trying to push
Vorador down onto it. He wanted to make Vorador as aroused as he was, make him
the impatient one, though he knew it was most likely a fruitless endeavor,
given Vorador's millennia of experience in controlling his reactions and urges.

Vorador's eyes had been flat were amused once more. A hand to the
center of his chest to shove him back down moved swiftly, remaining in contact,
to the side and around to the center of his back, slitting open Kain's skin in
front. From the other side he pushed, drawing him closer, his other hand
gripped one cheek and hiked Kain further up. "Bend back," he commanded before dipping
his head to the blood.

At least that was some reaction, lust for blood if not flesh. Kain complied for
the moment, excited by the display of power.

Vorador licked,
he bent down enough that it was unreal for such an old spine, that it seemed
that, with Kain's hips hiked up around Vorador's waist, only a few more degrees
would bring...Just a touch on the pale jutting head.

He growled softly. Was he so unappealing that even his seeming powerlessness
failed to arouse Vorador to action? He was fully hard now, and he tried to pull
Vorador's head away from the blood to bite hard into his lips.

Vorador laughed against his mouth and shifted his lower hand free, holding
Kain to him with his wrist. Oil, and narrow glass pestle coming from the
bottle top. He could tease, but he wanted surprise.

Either memory understated the
taste of vampire blood or Vorador's was spiced with age and the power he had
attained through evolution: Kain moaned and bit again to keep the wounds open,
attention entirely focused upon the red nectar.� The
taste, the power, was enough to make up for the fact Vorador was humoring
him. The glass was smooth and rounded, Kain had a slight touch as warning
before it was pressed in.

Kain froze instead of jumped, tensing: this was the first time he had felt
something inside him. Still, he knew better than to move: humans could be
seriously injured like this, he'd often taken advantage of that.

Vorador look his
stillness as opportunity and pulled his mouth away from their lock and Kain's
teeth. He licked, kissed, almost affectionately around Kain's mouth,
cleaning his own blood up. "Really Kain, I'm going to have to get
more toys if you react this way--it's an inch long and the size of a child's
forefinger, if that." And he twirled it around on an angle inside of
Kain, pushing slightly against the inner flesh just behind the muscle grip.

"I was merely surprised, Vorador." He tried not to react: it was easy:
the sensation was odd, but not painful.

There was a slight dip in the bottom, a change between pestle and
handle. He edged it deeper to tease with the changing width, much smaller
till the handle pressed against the nerve laden entrance, and then back out. Vorador withdrew it and reapplied oil
before using it again, nuzzling near Kain's ears and watching over his shoulder
as he telekinetically readied the first dildo.

No, Kain thought, it was most
definitely not unpleasant, though still not at the level of pleasure he
associated with sex. ��As it went from
thin to thick and back again, it seemed to send a slight shock through him; he
moved slightly despite his desire to remain still the first time. The area felt
as sensitive as the tips of his fingers or more so, the glass warm, slick and
smooth within him.� What was Vorador
playing at?
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