Sloane busied herself on the other side of the bar as far as possible from the commotion. The Fuhrer had arrived, and she was less than impressed. The manager and every stripper in the joint had quickly gathered around to fawn over him and vie for his attention. She was content to take care of the few customers who like her were not mesmerized by the arrival of the fabulous Fuhrer and his fair-haired lackeys. Roy Mustang had risen to power as Fuhrer five years ago and just the thought of him made her want to vomit. He had arrived thirty minutes ago with his guard dog Riza Hawkeye with her gun prominently displayed on her side. His other blond headed guard dog and doer of his biding, Edward Elric was with him as well. He was second only to Riza in the hierarchy of Roy's entourage.

"Hey, Sloane," Falman asked her, resting his hand on her behind. "You don't seem very happy that the Fuhrer is here."

"Should I be? Please, remove your hand from my ass, Vato," she requested, sitting down next to him when he moved it obediently. Everyone else was too busy begging and groveling at Mustang's feet to notice her anyway. "Why aren't you over there? You're one of his men right?"

"I'm not working right now. I'm on my own time. Besides, I haven't been dazzled by him in years. I know him too well and too much time has passed for that," he muttered grumpily, finishing off his drink. He knew why the bastard was here and it made him sick.

"You want another, doll. Or do you think you've had enough and should get home to the family?" she inquired, placing his empty glass on the tray with the dozen others she had picked up.

"You always take good care of me, sugar. That's why I come here. No matter how much I flirt with you, you keep me out of trouble," he said, reaching out to cup her cheek. She was a beautiful girl with caramel colored hair and eyes to match. She would be the only person he would even think about cheating on his wife with but she would not allow him to cheat with her or anyone else. "You're a good girl, Sloane. When are you going to leave here and get a real job?"

"Soon, I hope to leave Amestris completely. One of these days I hope to get out of this black hole that seems to keep sucking me back in," she replied, kissing him on the cheek as she stood up. "Go home, Vato."

"YOU!" the blond retriever named Edward Elric yelled, pointing directly at her.

"Run, baby," Vato warned, standing up so quickly his chair flew back into the table behind him. No - not her. The bastard could not have picked her for his companion of the night.

"What? What the hell is going on?" Sloane demanded, standing up slowly as the tall blond crossed the bar at an amazing speed.

"Run!" Vato yelled, pushing her toward the back door away from the blond man who was almost to them. He remembered when it was his job to be the retriever but all of the women had been more than willing to go home with Roy Mustang to be his sex toy for one night. He had seen too many broken hearts and shattered lives caused by that man. That was why he drank so much to numb the pain of the memories.

"Falman! What the hell is wrong with you?" Edward yelled, pushing the inebriated man out of the way.

Sloane turned to run but it was too late. She shrieked when the man with long blond hair who was at least six feet tall with two brawny human arms now, seized her around the waist. She struggled and kicked at him which caused him to squeeze her until she could not breathe. Finally her struggling ceased because she was weak from lack of oxygen, and she was afraid he would break her ribs.

"The Fuhrer has requested the honor of your company tonight," Edward whispered in her ear in a way that warned her there was not actually a choice. He relaxed his grip to allow her to breathe when she stopped moving.

"What do you mean?" she panted, trying to catch her breath.

"Fuhrer Mustang has chosen you to be his companion for the night. He wants you in his bed, my dear. You are a pretty one," he remarked, brushing the long wavy hair back from her face.

Sloane could not believe her ears. The Fuhrer had chosen her for the night? She was supposed to be not only happy but ecstatic about the privilege of being used by Roy Mustang for one night. What the hell is wrong with that man?

"No. I'm not even interested. That's why I wasn't even over there. He can pick one of the willing ones. I don't want to," she stated with resolve, struggling against Edward with renewed strength.

"Do you really think you can say no?" Edward asked. There was no answer for that question because it was a sarcastic retort. He tucked her under his arm like a football and carried her to his master.

"Come here, sweetheart," Mustang said in his deep almost kind voice. It was revolting knowing that he was such a pervert but could seem so friendly and innocuous.

Edward shoved her forward and she fell right into the arms of the black haired man. Sloane's furious golden brown eyes looked up into a pair of black ones that were emotionless and dark like a moonless night sky.

"Don't be angry. I won't hurt you," he assured her, running his fingers through her hair.

"I don't want this. I don't want you," she snarled through clenched teeth.

"That's all right. You will," he said, pulling her to her feet. He pulled her into his arms to hold her.

Sloane was caught completely off guard by this. It had been years since she had been held by anyone. Her body began to relax against his actually enjoying the feeling of his strong arms around her and his hard muscled body pressing to hers. She felt something being pulled over her and realized he was putting the black wool cloak he had been wearing around her shoulders. She was wearing nothing but a short black skirt that barely covered her behind and a bright pink tank top with thin straps. That was her typical work uniform.

"I don't want you to be cold when we leave," he explained, kissing her cheek as he turned to lead her out with his arm around her.

What in the hell just happened?

The ride to his mansion had been a quiet one with neither one of them saying a word. Sloane did not know what to say, and Mustang felt there was no need to say anything. She was confused and frightened. She was attracted to the man beside her, the man she was supposed to hate, the man she had been told to hate for so many years. For the life of her she could not remember why at this time.

Mustang had picked her because she was not interested and could have cared less that he was in that bar. He thought she was beautiful and despite where she worked she had an innocence and naïveté about her that he found compelling and unable to ignore. His loyal and longtime subordinate Falman had talked about her from time to time and that was what made him decide to go to that particular bar. He had fallen under her spell and he wanted her – not just as a sex toy but for something more.

The guard dogs were in the car and were staring at the Fuhrer and his new pet. They were dumbfounded. Typically, Mustang would already have the girl halfway undressed and be into to heavy petting at this time. Something very strange was going on here.

When they arrived at the mansion, Mustang assisted the woman who compliantly took his hand and allowed him to lead her inside. They could hardly believe this was the same woman who had fought Edward tooth and nail as if her life depended on it. Which in a way it had. They Fuhrer did not take rejection very well.

Curiosity became the overwhelming emotion driving Sloane. She had pushed past the hate, the anger, and then the fear. Curiosity killing the cat was not really a concern of hers. She knew he wanted something else from this pussy cat. With a wicked grin curling her lips, she suddenly realized she was in control because she had something he wanted and apparently would go through great lengths to get.

"You can take a shower in there. When you're done, don't bother getting dressed. Follow the trail that has been made for you when you are ready," he said, taking his cloak from her shoulders.

Sloane pushed open the frosted glass door that revealed a black tiled bathroom that was bigger than her apartment. Everything was black in the expansive bathroom except for the stark white grout between the tiles and the silver faucets and fixtures. She turned on the shower jumping back in surprise when water shot out of four showerheads including one hanging from the ceiling. While the water was warming up, she undressed. There were two black fluffy towels sitting on the counter along with an array of soaps, shampoos, conditioners, and lotions of all kinds on the counter. She sniffed and touched as if she were shopping in a store there were so many choices. After deciding on the cherry blossom and jasmine scented soap and shampoo, she stepped into the shower. The beating of the hot water on her skin felt great. Maybe being queen for a night would not be so bad after all.

One night. Roy closed his eyes as he lay on the black satin sheets of his bed waiting for her. One night had always been enough for him before. That was all he needed to get what he wanted from a woman and be done with her. Most of the time he did not even remember the name of the woman by the next morning and that was if he even bothered to ask for it to begin with. Most women were so thrilled to get that one night, to earn bragging rights that they had been gefickt* by the Fuhrer. Relationships were something he had never cared about before because he simply did not have time for them and they were too inconvenient in his ambition to be Fuhrer. Now he was here and all alone. Worse yet, it was if he were not only an emotional void but a vacuum sucking the life out of everyone around him. Something had to fill the void and his choice was pointless mindless sex just like it always had been. For some reason, this woman gave him hope that all of that was about to change.

Sloane took her time drying off then slathering on lotion of the same scent because it was always best to pick a theme when it came to scented products and stay with it otherwise the results could really stink – literally. She brushed her wet hair with what looked like a brand new brush. There was also a toothbrush and other personal items for use that had not expected to see. These people thought of everything. After testing and using many of the items on the counter to primp and prepare herself, she wrapped one of the towels around her body. She pulled open the bathroom door to see a trail of rose petals had been laid out on the floor. No wonder women nearly killed themselves to get his attention so they could be given this treatment. She followed the trail on the hardwood floor down the hall where it stopped at a set of heavy oak double doors. Her fingers were trembling as she pushed down on the gold door handle, surprised by how easily the door opened. The room was dark because it was decorated in all black and dimly lit. Once her eyes adjusted to the low light she could see him lying in the bed. She moved closer, mesmerized by what she say.

The Fuhrer's pale skin created a stark and quite beautiful contrast against the black silks sheets which seemed to have the same texture and sheen of his hair. He was lying on his back with his hands tucked under the pillow that cradled his head. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing deeply. He was asleep. She had played around long enough he had fallen asleep waiting on her. It was sweet and somewhat disappointing. He looked so innocent and harmless lying in the bed sleeping.

Sloane dropped the towel, sliding under the slippery smooth sheets next to him. She smiled when he groaned and moved after her body pressed against his side. Her smile widened as he turned into her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. The smile quickly fell from her face when she realized he was completely naked. It was stupid of her to expect anything else. However it seemed he was dead asleep and unaware he held a naked woman in his arms and not a big teddybear. She closed her eyes, attempting to find a comfortable position for sleep. She was completely exhausted and this whole situation was too surreal for her to even comprehend anymore. Her body relaxed in his embrace, and she soon fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

A soft, gentle touch like a feather grazing her neck brought goose bumps to the surface of her skin. The same weightless teasing sensation tickled her chest and then her nipple which immediately grew to a hard sensitive peak. She was being pulled from the bottomless depths of a really good sleep. A moan passed her lips as something warm and wet surrounded the receptive skin. She moaned again when a light sucking sensation was applied to her nipple. Arousal cut through the remaining fog of sleep, bringing her to consciousness. Her fingers sought to touch what was making her feel so good. Her hands grabbed fistfuls of smooth silky hair that she enjoyed sliding through her fingers. Her fingertips moved down to the face beneath the hair, stroking the cheeks that inverted slightly as they sucked harder on her nipple.

"Mmmmm," she groaned, kissing the forehead of the man arousing her tremendously. "That feels so good."

"You're awake?" he inquired, pressing his lips to hers before she could answer. His lips were soft like a child's and his kiss leisurely and unhurried as if he not only could, but would, do this all day. His smooth fingertips stroked across the other nipple that he had not given the wonderful tongue lashing to yet.

Sloane knew who she was with but kept her eyes closed. Just enough of the haze of sleepiness clung to her that it gave the situation a pleasant dreamlike quality which made it seem as if she were under a spell that she did not want to break.

"Roy," she whispered his name against his lips when he moved over on top of her.

"You're so lovely. I want you," he said, trailing kisses down her neck.

Each kiss was like a small sting that caused the ache of arousal to grow within her. By the time his mouth reached her other nipple to tease it she was in agony from the need for him and she was ready to beg. Somehow he must have sensed this because his hand slid between her thighs, carefully spreading her open and sliding into the hot, wet recess that was in desperate need of his attention.

Sloane threw back her head, arching into him as she moaned. She raised her hips, pushing his fingers further into her hungry body. Her fingers dug into his shoulders while his lips steadily moved down her body pressing kiss after kiss to her belly. He was setting her on fire and was about to make her explode.

"Oh, Roy!" she cried out when she felt his lips and tongue on her most intimate part. She raised her hips toward his face, grabbing a handful of his hair with one of her hands while the other grasped the pillow behind her head. Ecstasy coursed through her body with such force she screamed as he sucked on her small nub that was so terribly aroused and brought so much pleasure. His fingers moved in and out of her, mimicking intercourse while he continued to alternately lick and suck the sensitive little protuberance.

"Oh, oh, my god, Roy," she gasped, pulling his hair a little as she pushed herself at his face. Her body was trembling with pleasure as an orgasm threatened to overtake her and drown her in a sea of pure bliss. She released his hair, reaching behind her to grab the pillow that she threatened to rip completely in two as the symphony of pleasure finally came to a crescendo and played across every nerve in her body making her writhe and shake underneath his still hungry mouth that was on her body.

"Stop, please," she moaned, thrusting her hips spastically from orgasmic aftershocks. She was too weak to move or give any kind of protest when he lay on top of her as if she would have anyway because she wanted more. He had aroused her so successfully and the orgasm had been so satisfying, it only increased her appetite and need. A need for more – more pleasure, more of his touch, more of him.

Roy kissed her while positioning himself at her more than ready entrance. He knew she could taste herself on his lips and this excited him so much he almost ejaculated before he even pushed into her. He trembled as he forced his body to hang on to the sexual release it so terribly wanted. He panted as he slowly pushed into her, making her moan and thrash around under him. There was no way he was going to be able to sustain this for very long. He was so aroused during his oral pleasuring of her that he actually begun to stroke himself because he was hurting from the desire. 'Oh, the hell with it,' he thought as he rammed into her hard. He was not going to last beyond a few strokes so why bother going so damn slow? She felt good. Her body was tight and wet and oh, dear god she was clenching down on him using the muscles inside her body.

"Sloane, I'm sorry," he apologized, thrusting into her a few more hard times before he saw flashes of light burst into his vision like fireworks. He believed his brain exploded from the orgasm. His body spasmed uncontrollably continuing to push into her violently.

"Oh, Roy," she moaned, drawling out his last name like it had two syllables. "Keep moving like that and I'll come again."

Roy had no problem with that because he could not seem to stop from the mini-orgasms that kept coming and wracking his body with pleasure. Even if he wanted to stop he would not do it now because he wanted to make her shake and call his name again.

"Mustang, oh, yes, yes, YES! Dammit, Roy," she shrieked, clawing his back as she jerked and wriggled under him from another orgasm.

Before he could stop himself, he uttered a simple plea: "Stay with me."

Sloane slid her arms around his shoulders to hold him close when her body finally started coming down from its sexual high. She was not sure if she had heard him right or if it was a hallucination induced by the afterglow of great sex.

"Stay with me," he repeated a little louder and stronger this time.

"What do you mean?" she asked, pulling his head back by using a handful of his hair as a handle.

"Ow!" he hissed, squeezing his almond shaped black eyes closed. "Please stop that." Damn, she was a little on the rough side. That was surprising – and exciting. He opened his eyes back up and looked down at the gorgeous woman in his arms. "Let me take care of you. Live here with me. Be mine."

"Be your piece of property? A sex slave?" she inquired, quirking her eyebrow at him. If every time would be like this time that kind of torture would not be half bad. What would be the worst problem? Oh, please stop! Not another orgasm! However the look in his eyes hinted that he wanted it to be more than that. She was not quite sure what and neither was he for that matter. Maybe this would be a matter they would enjoy exploring together to see what enticing possibilities might be discovered.

*Gefickt – English translation starts with an F and rhymes with ducked. GUESS!

More chapters (and quite possibly if this fic stays up at all) will depend on reviews and if people express the desire to read more.