Private Peeping Parsa

[Luca Caldogne]

PROCOPIA
Arrik Parsa
​

Life was a funny little thing full of surprises.

One day you were busy with paperwork and the next you were hungry. There were days when you had to apply discipline to yourself. You couldn't very well go out and eat in the middle of Fondor, Coruscant, or any other civilized world. No, there was procedure to follow. Precautions to take. You had to be careful and precise. That was the only way to separate yourself from the animals and beasts among you.

Luckily Luca Caldogne was hungry in his ancestral home.

He had been born here. Thrived here. And if the eternal universe willed it, he'd also die here. The halls were stately and exquisite. Tasteful artwork from many Tapani eras, flowers to freshen up the atmosphere, artifacts that covered tables and cabinets.

By all accounts this was Old Money.

"What to pick, what to pick..." Luca murmured as he looked down on the collection of sentients gathered calmly in a row in front of him. They were private retainers. Their families well taken care off and here for the... short run. "You, today." A calm finger pointed at one particular man crouched down on his knees. It was clear said man was having second thoughts as he looked at the relief of the retainers leaving the room post-haste.

"M-my sister?"

Luca smiled thinly.

"Yes, scholarship fully paid for and already on the first shuttle to Coruscant. She will remember you fondly, Tamas. I promise." That made the burly man smile at least. That was good, because the happy had exactly the kind of aftertaste the mood currently required.

His hands rested softly on Tamas' shoulders. They closed their eyes. Gasps. Pure ravenous pleasure. And all was going so well, until a sound reached Luca's ears. His head snapped to the side and started straight into the eyes of Arikk Parsa. It wasn't really his fault. Little did he know he had annoyed Luca's mother enough to send him straight into Luca's arms. It was quite rude of her, but Luca would have to deal with that later.

The door slammed shut behind Arrik at the gesture of his fingers.

Tamas dropped face-down into the carpet. The poor man was twitching as the duo of tendrils slid back into Luca's face.

"Well... well... well. What do we have here?" Murmured like honey as his attention centered entirely on the would-be paramour.

 

[Arrik Parsa]

"Please forgive me, My Lord," Arrik Parsa, or rather Julien Granau conceded with a deep, formal bow that he did not rise from, "I have disturbed you."

Disturbed from what, was another question. His immediate assumption was licentious bedroom rituals; the obscenely wealthy could and did get away with literal murder.

The Nagai's stone eyes had absorbed enough in the scant few seconds since he had stepped upon the spider's web. The sudden gaze of one Luca Caldogne. The strange appendages that retracted into the face of nobility. The vacant expression upon the face of the other man as his body fell, limp yet fitful. The sound of the door slamming shut behind his back. Memories and minute details all stored for later appraisal.

"Julien Granau."

He remained bowed, placid and submissive, traits often enjoyed by those of Luca Caldogne's station. Fear was held only in thought, not in body although Arrik could have been forgiven for delving into dread as a son being disturbed by his mother's toyboy was hardly ideal circumstance, interrupting strange sexual ritual notwithstanding.

"Please allow me to remedy my faux pas, My Lord," Arrik offered with his head still bowed, internally loathing the prostration that was a necessary evil in such high stakes affairs, his back remained arched but the young man's head glanced upwards, eyes searching and sincere, "in any way that I can."

 

[Luca Caldogne]

Arrik Parsa

Luca was as if frozen in time.

Body unnatural silent and unmoving in the moment. There was still a rush running through his veins, the euphoria interrupted, but processed far enough that sweet Tamas was already decaying behind him. His mind slipping away from mortality towards... who knew? He took it all in- the submissive stature, the tone and words, but also the smell that lurked just skin-deep.

What would Luca find if he went digging into this mind? Something as beautiful as the face? Something just as exquisite?

"I know you... Julien Granau." His voice sotto. "My... mother's latest attraction." And for all the restraint the man was currently employing he couldn't help but lick his lips. The euphoria was subsiding and only once Luca knew for certain that he had it under control, did he move.

Silently and stalking towards the man in front of him.

Until his hand rested on Arrik's shoulder.

"You have seen something few have in their life." And two fingers tipped the young man's head up by his chin. "I should say, have seen and maintained their lively complexion." There was no attempt to ask if Arrik understood. Of course he did. It was all over his body, etched into pretty marble. He breathed in slowly and smiled.

"Did you know that fear has a particular smell? Some say it spoils the... meal, but I find it offers its own little delicate rewards."

His grip on Arrik's shoulder increased as he pushed him back against the door.

"My mother must be growing weary of you, if she send you here at this hour of the day. But perhaps you can be of use to me instead. Would you like that, Julien?"

 

[Arrik Parsa]

Parsa remained passive and pliable as his predator approached, the hand upon his shoulder doing nothing to soothe the dread hidden away from outer perception as his gaze caught the growing stillness of the body upon the floor.

Eyes were forced upwards by the fingers upon his chin, the expression offered to the nobility entirely subdued, which sat perfectly upon his delicate features. His own debasement was a necessary evil for an unfortunate situation, and while Arrik held little pleasure in playing the part of paralysed prey he understood the unwritten rules of these social hierarchies.

His heart skipped a beat when he was pushed up against the door.

Honest fear mingled alongside fraudulent disappointment as the young man wore Julien's feelings upon his features. In truth, Arrik was not only fearful for his own life but also irritated that Luca's mother had deigned to play such silly games with him, it suggested he had made a misstep and that suggestion was not appreciated.

"The pleasure would be mine," he answered, eyes flitting upwards to meet Luca's before being cast downward once more to show the appropriate reverence, "use me as you see fit, My Lord."

That old bitch.

 

[Luca Caldogne]

Arrik Parsa

"It is always better to ask for permission first instead of forgiveness afterwards, no?" Quietly as his fingers locked into Arrik's hair and pulled his head back with a tight grip.

Exposing his throat, the undersides of his eyes, but most importantly... his nostrils.

Wait, what?

"I do apologize for her," Luca murmured to the tune of Arrik's thoughts. "-it was incredibly rude of her to send you here. Do not worry, I will have a long conversation to ensure such things don't happen in the future." Sometimes rudeness was called for and the baron assumed that this was one of those moments.

He didn't know Arrik, of course. Not personally anyway.

But what does a young boy, beautiful, but reeking of deceit have on his mind when he sniffs around a woman so many times his age? It could be something real, certainly. It wasn't always to take advantage. But one such as he, Luca Caldogne, who took advantage at every opportune moment could sniff that out all the same.

"I know my apologies aren't much comfort to you now, but believe me when I say I will always... keep you... in mind."

Things slowed down as his grip on Parsa magnified. At the exact same moment the Anzati's trading card, the tendrils of life, slid out of their hide spots and immediately jerked up towards their targets.

Some violent delights were worth the interruption.

 

[Arrik Parsa]

Arrik remained still as his head was forced upwards, his fear rising upwards from hidden depths and sinking into his skin, causing muscles beneath delicate porcelain to knot with tension. Soft lips parted and from them escaped the tremble of an exhale.

The Baron spoke to his thoughts, his sense of loathing for the man's mother who had deliberately directed him into such a trap, his life seemingly forfeit upon an old crow's whim. Were he to have one last moment before falling victim to her son Arrik might have confronted her, so he could have spat upon her face for such an affront. To be deceived like this, the role reversal was a great slap in the face.

Luca's grip hardened, and thin proboscis unfurled like twin-harbingers of an untimely demise but yet the scoundrel remained outwardly pacified, even in the face of such alien threat.

"My Lord," he pleaded, weaving and layering a sedate inflexion into his voice. It was an attribute that his species was known to possess, the ability to manipulate their vocal range to influence others, "I beg of you to spare me."

The tendrils approached flared nostrils as the young man still did not physically struggle, instead, he persisted in wielding words, influencing them further with the weight of strange vigour.

"I can be so much more."

 

[Luca Caldogne]

Arrik Parsa

His first words did nothing to sway him.

They felt pleasing to the ear. Much like an instrument, finely-tuned and ready to play, but to Luca that was no reason to stop. Instead perhaps it was even a reason to continue. What other noises would this sweet little prince be able to make under fine regiment? No, the tendrils continued their path, until they froze at the last sentence.

"My... oh... my." Luca whispered in awe. "You are truly a rare kind."

And just for a moment Arrik might even believe that he had actually done it.

That the mad lad pulled it off and was home-free. Just a bit more groveling and this old decrepit creature would let go of him. Whatever those tendrils are, whatever Luca was into, Arrik certainly wanted no part in it.

"I haven't had a force sensitive in a while." Luca suddenly hissed and lung forward. Before Arrik could make any other sound, the tendrils shot upwards to dig into his face and began the process of ... soup... making. It was a strange euphemism, but in a way also entirely accurate. Luca's eyes closed as he let himself drift on the waves of their connection.

And this one... truly tasted exquisite. Maybe even well enough to keep?

Brows furrowed.

It would depend on how much punishment the young Parsa could manage.

 

[Arrik Parsa]

There was a glimmer of hope there; that the power of his words was enough to grant him his life. One might have thought the moment was enough of a scare to set the young man on a better path but subconsciously he was already preparing a new identity for the next circle of witless elites.

But he had counted his tip-yips before they had hatched.

Before he could even comprehend being force sensitive Luca thrust himself upon him, the strange appendages finding swift passage up Parsa's nostrils and into the inner workings of his skull. All that Arrik could do was grab onto his attacker as a peculiar and unpleasant sensation rippled through his entire being causing grey eyes to judder upwards and his grip to twitch then slacken.

It wasn't painful, strangely enough, yet it was still entirely torturous as if his entire nervous system had begun to malfunction, synapses lighting up at random and creating a cacophony of confusion within his entire body. He tried to speak, to beg for his life but nothing came out of his open mouth beyond soft guttural croaks.

Amongst the blinding white and high-pitched buzz in his ears Arrik could feel himself growing emptier, a cold vacuum beginning to form in the centre of his head that seemed to grow in size with each passing second. The young man's grip soon began to falter, his body beginning to relax into the clutches of Luca Caldogne as a small bead of saliva began to trickle down from his bottom lip. Slacker, weaker, emptier, colder.

He didn't want to die.

From some unknown depths, Arrik gathered scraps of discarded will and with it tried to break free although all that the man actually managed to do was give the Baron's wrist a small squeeze.

 

[Luca Caldogne]

Arrik Parsa

Beyond all ironic realities this one was the most funny:

It was that little small squeeze that saved Arrik's life.

Luca first thought he forgot how amazing it was to drain a force sensitive. The moment he inhaled? It all came back to him and more. This kind of experience you couldn't get anywhere else. Nothing compared to it and Luca was lost in it. His grip hardening over Arrik's body as his gaze turned to starlight and all he saw was the infinite of the galaxy.

The thought of sparing him forgotten, because why worry about future pleasures, when the purest pleasure was right here? Right now?

But that squeeze brought him back an inch. An annoying distraction that made him open his eyes and see Parsa's almost ashen face. He growled, it had been too soon, too fast, but-

The tendrils detached and disappeared back into his face.

Then he dropped Arrik like a sack of potatoes, because holding him was like holding pure starlight in your arms. The last remnants of soup was glittering to him even now. He could see it shining beyond his eyes. Luca licked his lips and even as he had taken several steps back? Now he was taking a few more towards Arrik.

 

[Arrik Parsa]

The assault stopped.

Arrik fell to the floor, limbs limp and useless as the man's brain scrambled to recover from the harrowing ordeal. It took a few seconds for his central nervous system to reboot, eyes unfurling from the back of his skull as he returned to this realm with a great shuddering gasp.

The back of his skull tingled with a muted euphoria that sent strange pinpricks over his scalp and neck and if it weren't for the sheer empty terror that pervaded the man's entire being.

Legs and arms clambered and Parsa instinctively scrambled upon hand and knee to try and get away, his movement uncharacteristically uncoordinated and sluggish. He groaned, his soul and senses drained as a sliver of crimson dribbled forth from his nose. It felt like being gripped by potent black market tranquilisers used for sedating behemoths for surgery.

Deep footfalls came for him.

"Muh-muh," he babbled incoherently, mind evidently left glazed so soon after the attack as he crawled over to the warm corpse of Luca Caldogne's previous victim, "baaah..."