One Direction One Shots (all ships) Vol II

Ziall - Just Politics

New, young President of England leaves for week long holiday only three days after taking office.

Niall was watching the newscast anxiously, tapping his knees with his fidgeting fingers. Little did the news know that it wasn't a holiday per say. It was much more formal than that. More political. It was more like a...rite of passage. They were on some tiny island with a small party, mostly security and political figureheads from his country and Zayn's. Niall was there to be given to Zayn as a present, to start off the young lad's new lifelong term as President on good terms.

Niall's father, the ambassador to Ireland, had jumped at the chance to have Niall be the country's gift to the young man. It was an honor; one Niall was praying he didn't screw up.

He'd spent years preparing for this, ever since he started to grow into the changes in his body. Ever since Zayn had come out when he was just a boy. When Mr. Malik died and left his country to Zayn, his training was pushed into overdrive. He'd stretched himself with toys larger than most in case Zayn was big, but worked on coming with very little in case Zayn was small. He'd practiced bringing himself close and holding off because Zayn would always be the one to tell him when he could come.

He'd had a trainer. Taught him proper etiquette, told him what to expect, even whipped him a few times so he'd know what it felt like, just in case. He was ready for his life as Zayn's sex slave. But he was so nervous.

"Niall," his father called. "It's time."

Niall nodded and wiped his sweaty palms on his thin shorts one more time before standing and following his father and their two guards across the lavish wooden huts that had served as their hotel for the two days they'd been here so far, and would serve as Zayn and Niall's private oasis for five days after the ceremony.

When they got into the large room where Niall would soon no longer be his own, Niall's mouth fell open at the set up. There were lit candles all over the room and in the center left were four large velvet curtains that boxed in a wide, unseen area. On the other side of the room was all of Zayn's people: his mom, sisters, advisers, and guards, but no Zayn.

Niall was led to the other side where he knelt about three yards from what looked like a throne, except it was made of glass and seemed to be iridescent. Moments later a dark shadow formed from the shadows behind Zayn's family. The figure became clearer the closer it got until Niall was looking up at an impeccably dressed, polished, imposing Zayn Malik.

If Niall weren't already on his knees he would have fallen just then. Zayn sat on the glass throne and looked over the entire group of people before his eyes fell and landed on Niall's mostly naked form. Niall couldn't tell if he was breathing or not, but his heart was surely pumping because he could hear it in the silence.

One of Zayn's entourage, dressed in a slick, navy suit spoke first. "Niall Horan, Mr. President, for your pleasure."

Niall shivered at the declaration. It's true he was here for Zayn's pleasure, and if Zayn didn't find him pleasurable then he went home with shame thrust upon his family's name. His father would surely lose his job, his mother her dignity. It all rested on the next hour or so.

"Come," Zayn ordered and Niall rose to make his way to kneel again right in front of Zayn's feet. Zayn raked his eyes over Niall's body slowly, catching every detail- and every flaw- with his knowing eyes. He stuck a foot out and tucked it around Niall's small waist to pull him closer. Niall's chest was pressed to Zayn's knee and he was breathing like an asthmatic. Zayn dropped his foot again and spread his knees, which Niall hoped was a sign to come even closer because that's what he did.