Finally, Marius set down the last newspaper and glanced across the room at 
Armand. Armand looked like the perfect depiction of a petulant teenager, 
sitting Indian-style with his legs crossed; he picked absentmindedly at his 
sharp and shiny nails. There was a slight scowl on his face and his brows were 
tightly furrowed. Marius allowed himself to gaze at Armand for a moment longer.
He hadn't really been able to concentrate so well on the night's papers. He 
kept thinking back to Armand and Armand's behavior. Never before Armand had 
Marius known a person that wanted so much independence on the outside but 
begged so loudly for control on the inside. Before bringing the boy over to the 
blood, Marius had been able to hear his soul ask for such a thing, but now his 
attitude, mannerisms, and body language provided enough of a hint. He puzzled 
over how he might be able to give Armand both what he wanted and what he 
needed, Marius knew he wasn't always the noble, clear-headed senator when it 
came to his emotions with his fledglings. And Armand had been acting pretty 
foolish as of late.
"Amadeo," Marius used the name he had given the boy so long ago, "What exactly 
where you thinking when you joined up with that pack of mortal children?"
Armand looked tense for a moment and then spoke, "I though that I wanted to 
make some friends."
"With mortal children?"
"Mortal teenagers."
"Yes, alright. And you thought you would string them along for a bit, and 
corrupt them, push them past their bad habits of staying out late and eating 
junk food into staying out all night and doing hard drugs?"
"Master! It didn't start out that way," Armand had fire in his eyes as he 
glared at Marius, he was on the defense, his arms holding on to the edge of the 
couch in case he wanted to jump up and make a quick escape, "I just wanted to 
see what they were like, see if they could accept me as one of them. And they 
did, quickly. We just wanted to have some fun, and we were bored. They're fine 
now, they're with their parents!"
"Yes, with a new criminal record and a taste for the bad side of life. You 
might have created drug lords, pimps, murderers, and thieves out of your little 
friends."
Marius's ice blue eyes were cold in that moment, full of disappointment. Armand 
almost shivered, but the fire in him was too hot.
"No, No! They're fine. I can fix it, it won't be hard at all, I can read their 
thoughts and I can persuade-"
"I think you have done enough manipulating to last them a while, wouldn't you 
agree?"
Armand looked positively sick, as if he hadn't thought about the consequences 
of introducing the youth to all of that filth. Sure, it was something he would 
indulge in for a while here and there, but then such things would bore him and 
he would move on. Some people get a taste for those types of lives and stay 
with it - until the gritty end. But surely it couldn't be all that serious!
"Marius, you've got to be joking! It isn't all that bad. I just helped them to 
have a little fun, that's all!" Armand visibly rolled his eyes. Marius caught 
this little action and it fueled his own annoyance.
"A little fun would be taking them out for ice cream. Why didn't you use your 
powers to introduce them to good literature and art, take them out to museums 
and theaters?"
"Because that's not what they wanted! That not what I wanted…" Armand trailed 
off, feeling foolish and even angrier with Marius for making him regret his own 
actions. He was 500 years old for Christ's sake; he could make his own damn 
decisions!
"Marius, I do not want to have this conversation anymore. I thank you for 
picking me up last night, but I will not sit here and explain myself to you. 
Goodnight." Armand stood to leave but he was stopped once again by that firm 
hand on his upper arm.
"Oh no, young one, we are not finished. Give me the respect I deserve as your 
maker and stay until we are through." Marius was clearly not amused. He would 
not allow Armand to slip off for the night and pretend like this was no big 
deal.
"Let go." Armand turned to face Marius and tugged at his maker's grasp.
"You will sit down then?"
"Yes." Armand lied.
Marius let go and Armand began to bend his knees as if he were about to sit, 
then he lunged forward toward the kitchen. He could escape through the back 
door. Surely Marius wouldn't follow him?
Oh, but Marius would. Who was he kidding? Marius hated disrespect, and Armand 
had just lied to his face.
Armand found himself, just a few steps into his flight, pinned to the cold 
marble tile of the kitchen. Marius was quick, and Marius was strong. His arms 
were wrenched behind his back, pulled back so roughly he felt they might snap. 
Armand groaned and twisted his body, checking to see how much leeway he might 
have. But that turned out to be another mistake, and his torso and upper thighs 
were held down bodily by Marius' knees.
"I've had enough games, little boy. Do you enjoy pushing my buttons?" Marius 
didn't know what he was going to do, but his fingers itched to hold the switch 
again, like so many nights ago in the palazzo of Venice. His devil was back and 
he wished to drive him out.
"Yes and no." Armand's voice was muffled into the tile.
"Finally, an honest answer."
"I'm not a boy!"
"You act like one, you look like one. What else are you?"
"A man, an equal."
"Yes? Does a man act as you have been?"
"I don't know Marius…I suppose so, yes!"
"Does a gentlemen act as you have been?"
"Um…I suppose not. What does this matter? Let me up!" Armand bucked furiously.
"It matters quite a lot, my little one. Apparently my lessons of long ago have 
left your mind and the actions and thoughts of a foolish child have replaced 
them. I wish to educate you."
"Well,Master, I refuse your education! You can fuck off and go teach a rock 
manners for all I care. I like myself as I am and I don't wish for old world 
lessons in tea-time etiquette!" Armand now hoped to make Marius as angry as 
possible, he didn't quite know why. He certainly wouldn't be able to escape if 
he kept taunting the elder, but part of it just felt so good…and he didn't 
really want to leave, deep down inside.
"You remember how the teachers of my boys at the palazzo treated them if they 
refused to take their lessons, don't you?" Armand could almost hear the sneer 
in Marius' words. He remembered well enough.
"Yes, they were punished and probably sent to bed hungry or some other 
nonsense." Armand spoke sarcastically.
"No, never that. My boys always had their basic needs taken care of, including 
their education on respect."
Marius raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. No switch of the teacher 
would come slithering into the room on this night, but the desired effect was 
there. Armand was tense and knew exactly what Marius meant to do.
"Master, no! You can't! I am not a boy! I am a man. You have no right! You're a 
horrible demon!" Armand was frantic now, more afraid of the possible 
humiliation in the submission than the actual pain. He was dominant. Men are 
dominant!
"Or is it you who has become the demon, Amadeo?" Marius calmly asked.
Armand wrenched free at that moment and brought the sharp "claws" of his right 
hand into the hard preternatural flesh of Marius' left cheek. Four deep gashes 
appeared and blood spilled down Marius' cheek before the wound closed up in the 
next instant. Marius looked surprised for a moment before grabbing Armand in 
the blink of a mortal eye. He picked him up and carried him forcefully into the 
living room. He reached out and tore the wooden rod off one of the heavy blinds 
that sat in front of the windows, then tossed Armand, stomach down, onto one of 
the couch cushions. His couches were large and luxurious, and he was certain 
Armand would not hang off the edge too much. He placed his knee into the small 
of his child's back and began to whack rhythmically away at his backside and 
thighs.
Armand was in shock, one moment he could have sworn he had the upper hand when 
he had cut Marius' face but in the next he was pinned down again, this time in 
the living room on the soft couch. Marius was hitting him over and over again 
and he felt his breath catch in his throat. It didn't hurt all that much, he 
mused, he was wearing jeans and was a bit stronger than he had been as an early 
fledgling. Marius must have caught on to this because he began to whip harder 
and faster. Still, it felt like more of an annoyance than anything else. Armand 
laughed.
Marius knew it was not working as well as it had in the past, but now that he 
was actually doing something he was a little afraid of seriously hurting the 
younger vampire, he did not want to shred the skin or break any bones, even 
though they would stitch themselves back together. Then Armand laughed. Marius 
stopped the whipping and with one strong, white hand reached down and tore the 
pants right off of Armand's lower body. Armand was not wearing any 
undergarments this night, which was just as well. Armand gasped and then Marius 
resumed his task. Now it did not take long before Armand's breathing was 
quickened.
"Ah!" Armand cried before forcing his teeth together. He would not cry, this 
was a mortal's punishment and he could take it. But, he had forgotten that the 
punishment was between two immortals and Marius knew what he was doing. Each 
whip of the rod came harder now and he felt each blow more keenly than the 
previous. It bloody hurt. Each stroke broke through his preternatural guard for 
a split second of agony. All of the strokes combined together in such quick 
succession, he couldn't ignore the pain. Silent blood tears slid down his face 
and Marius began to lessen up.
"Amadeo, I want only the best for you. I want you to respect me so I can 
respect you. I want your honesty." Marius felt very sad in weary in this 
moment. He was not so sure what to say to get through to Armand. He hoped his 
actions would help, but it was equally possible that they might hurt.
"I hate to do this, but I don't know of any other way to get through to you, my 
love." Marius spoke a bit quieter.
He slowly lessened the intensity of the blows until he stopped completely. He 
was amazed at the sight before him; Armand lay completely limp on the couch, 
his backside reddened but not bleeding. Any open wounds had quickly healed, 
unlike the horribly broken skin he had monstrously created on Armand's mortal 
backside before he had given him the blood. Armand was crying silently into the 
cushion, and he made no move to fight, so Marius removed his knee. Armand lay 
there for a long moment, crying into the cushion and shaking. Marius watched as 
he slowly calmed down, and then turned over to face his maker. Marius was 
sincerely frightened, what face would he see? Would he see the face of his 
child ready to scorn him forever?
But he didn't see any scorn or anger. All he saw was sadness in the slightly 
furrowed brow and pouting lips.
"Master?" Armand raised his arms upward.
He wanted to be picked up? To be held? Marius couldn't be more ready to oblige 
him. He picked the younger auburn-haired vampire up and held him, moving to sit 
in one of the over-stuffed chairs. Armand wore only the t-shirt but neither of 
them seemed to notice. Marius looked at Armand's face, and it reminded him of a 
cherub, especially in this moment. His big shining brown eyes looked so 
innocent, and his cheeks flush from the past hour's actions seemed full of 
youthful beauty. His curls shone with a radiance unseen by mortal eyes - plump, 
full, and smooth. Armand wrinkled his brow and then looked up at Marius with a 
very serious expression gracing his countenance.
"Master? I am so sorry." Armand stumbled with the next words, "I was a brat, 
I…I guess I did it on purpose, well, some of it…okay, most of it. I don't know 
why I started it, I just wanted to experiment, I guess. I knew you wouldn't 
approve so I didn't tell you. I know you might not have necessarily stopped me 
but you would have voiced your disapproval and I was afraid of hearing your 
opinion. I could have used better judgment, I know. I felt rebellious, and a 
little bit scared. I don't know who I am in this new age, Master. I used to 
just be a survivor, but now that we live safer, more comfortable lives, I feel 
as if I am a mix between the happy boy I was in Venice and something much more 
monstrous. I am so sorry, Master. I didn't mean all those things I said 
earlier. You shouldn't have had to come get me from the jail, I could have 
easily been in control of that situation but I just…let it happen. I kinda feel 
like I was…asking for all of this.
 Thank you. NOT that I want a repeat session anytime soon, but, I wanted to 
thank you before you began to feel all guilty for treating me like a child. 
You've got that look in your eye."
"Oh, Amadeo." Marius let out a great sigh as he squeezed his child to him. "I 
just didn't know what to do, I could see you slipping away, your cry for help 
was all too evident. I noticed it weeks ago but it took me a while to remember 
that a physical correction works all too well on you…or at least, it used to. 
I'm afraid I can be foolish too. Right now I am just happy to have you in my 
arms again. Many years separated us, but the blood will always bind us to each 
other."
"I know, Master. I think you also needed a reminder."
"Yes, well, when I got the call from you in the jail I felt my heart jump in my 
chest. I'm afraid that happens all too rarely these days. I care deeply for you 
Amadeo."
"And I you, Master." Armand leaned his head over to rest on Marius' shoulder, 
"In this new age, lets help each other to rekindle the fire of so long ago. 
I've got time." Armand winked.
"Of all the horrible jokes," Marius' blue eyes twinkled happily, "Yes, well, I 
have time too." He kissed the rose petal lips, still just as soft and sweet as 
ever.
They sat there in the cozy living room, just holding each other for a while. It 
was rare for Armand to be so physically affectionate; Marius was going to milk 
this for as long as it would go. Later they would rise to feed, possibly, 
before the sunrise, and then bed down together for the day. Marius couldn't 
recall a time when he felt so in tune with Armand, and with this age. Armand 
felt safe again, something he hadn't felt for over four hundred years.
 

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