“Frankly, yes. You’re at the top of this pyramid, Neh’sa—I would expect you to want to stay there.”
For once she didn’t correct him for calling her by her first name. Instead, a thoughtful look came over her lovely face.
“I wasn’t raised completely on Yonnie Six, you know. My mother inherited this position from a great aunt and moved us here when I was just ten cycles old. She thought it would be good for me since I was already exhibiting extremely…shall we say dominant personality traits.”
Thorn grinned at her.
“You were a little brat, weren’t you?”
“I was more what you would call ‘bossy’ I suppose,” Neh’sa said thoughtfully. “I was always the head of any group, the president of any club, the leader on any imaginary expedition…” One corner of her lush mouth quirked up. “I used to organize games where the males had to crawl on the ground like yola-hounds, fetching sticks for the females, who were their masters. Things like that.”
“I can see why your mother would think the life of a Yonnite Mistress would be a perfect fit,” Thorn said dryly.
“It is…in a way.” Neh’sa sighed pensively. “But I’ve never forgotten my early upbringing. Lylas is a much more fair and even world, you know—probably because everyone can feel everyone else’s emotions.”
“You’d have to be a sadist and a masochist to want to hit someone with a fire whip if you could feel their agony as your own when you did so,” Thorn growled.
“Lylasians feel mostly emotional pain but still, it is enough to make you want to avoid causing that pain if you can help it. It’s one reason I try to be careful of what punishments I use,” she said seriously. “But I don’t avoid them altogether— Pain can be used as a tool—not just a weapon.”
Thorn frowned. “How do you mean?”
She shrugged her slim shoulders. “Just that sometimes physical pain can help to release emotional pain.”
Thorn couldn’t argue with that. He remembered the feeling of needing an intense physical release the last time the fire had almost gotten away from him. Neh’sa had strapped him to the spanking bench and used the silver wand on him then, but would a fire whip across his shoulders and back have worked just as well to contain the flames within him?
Thorn was pretty sure it would have.
Sometimes the inner turmoil grew too great—it had to have an outlet. At least that was how he felt ever since Neh’sa had melted the emotional shields he’d held in place for such a long time.
“Tell me, Neh’sa—do you feel every pain you inflict?” he asked curiously.
“Oh yes. And some I have not inflicted.” She reached up and cupped his cheek in her small, cool palm. “Thorn, I felt the conflict in you when you saw that other slave being lashed. And I had a very strong feeling that you thought it was your fault somehow when you were whipped the same way. That you somehow…deserved it.”
Thorn frowned and jerked away from her hand, straightening up to his full height so she couldn’t reach him.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Mistress,” he growled.
“Yes, you do,” Neh’sa said quietly. “And if you ever want to talk about it, Thorn…I’m here.”
“Speaking of here, is this the readiness room you were talking about?” he asked abruptly, indicating a small room at the end of the long corridor which appeared to be more brightly lit than the punishment areas they’d passed along the way.
Neh’sa sighed. “Yes, it is. Let’s go in so I can put on your everlast. Then we’ll go around to the grand archway to be announced.”
Thorn was glad his change of subject had worked. Despite Neh’sa’s kind offer to talk, he had absolutely no wish to relate his sordid past. Most of the time he was able to hide it, even from himself. It was just that sometimes, certain things brought it up. The fire whip—
But no. Thorn pushed it from his mind as they walked into the small room which looked like a last minute dressing area for Mistresses and their body-slaves.
There was already a Mistress there, wearing a bright green and silver dress which showed her breasts and panties. She was primping anxiously in front of one of the many 3-D viewers that lined one entire wall, trying to get her elaborate hairdo—which had been sculpted to look like an immense ocean wave—just right. Beside her, wearing a thick green collar which matched his Mistress’s dress, was a slave. He was sporting a fully engorged phallus constricted by a matching green band.
“There, Milty—I think we’re ready,” the Mistress said to her slave who looked up at her adoringly. “Are you prepared to kiss my panties?”
“Yes, Mistress,” her slave murmured. “I’ll be pleased to serve you in any way I can.”
“Such a good body-slave.” The Mistress stroked his hair affectionately and he responded by rubbing against her hand, almost like a pet begging for attention.
So apparently not every slave here was unhappy with his lot, Thorn thought as he watched the two greet Neh’sa and then exit the readiness room. There did exist loving and committed relationships in this strange society. They just weren’t often on display.
“Now then,” Neh’sa murmured once they had privacy. “Let’s see what we have to work with.”
She had Thorn stand in the middle of the room and removed the black loincloth he was wearing over his crotchless leather trousers as usual. Unfortunately, the scene they had witnessed in the punishment room with the fire whip and the sadistic Mistress had completely drained him of desire. After watching that, he felt like he might never get hard again.
“Hmm.” Neh’sa frowned as she took his length in one small hand. “What we saw really bothered you didn’t it?” She looked up at Thorn speculatively. “Well let’s see if we can fix that.”
“I can fix it myself if you’ll let me, Mistress,” he said quickly. He knew how important it was for a body slave to display an engorged phallus and he didn’t want to shame her in any way. He started to take himself in hand but the shocks of the non-contact bracelets stopped him. Even if they hadn’t, Neh’sa was already shaking her head.
“No Thorn, I’m your Mistress. Allow me to take care of you.”
“Yes Mistress,” Thorn murmured, wondering exactly how she was going to “take care of him.” He expected her to stroke him to engorgement, and indeed her soft little hands on him were incredibly arousing.
Instead, Neh’sa dropped to her knees before him, heedless of her lovely gown. She looked up at him through the thick fringe of her black lashes.
“I want to feel you grow hard in my mouth,” she said softly.
“Gods, Mistress! You don’t have to—”
She shook her head, silencing his protest.
“Relax Thorn, and let me make you hard.”
Thorn had to bite back a groan as she opened her lush mouth, glossy with deep red lip stain, and took his entire length between her lips at once. Her soft warm tongue bathed his cock, swirling around and around his shaft until he thought he would go crazy from the pleasurable sensation.
Of course he didn’t stay soft for long. All thoughts of the fire whip and his tortured past faded and he felt a rush as his shaft began to fill. Soon he was achingly hard and Neh’sa was left sucking only the broad head of his cock.
“Gods Mistress,” Thorn groaned again, daring to reach down and stroke her soft cheek as she sucked him and swirled the tip of her little pink tongue around his throbbing tip. “That feels incredible. Do other Mistresses do this for their body slaves?”
“Not in public they don’t,” she murmured withdrawing at last. “Though I know many who indulge their… shall we say less than correct fantasies in the privacy of their own domiciles. But you may have noticed by now that I’m not exactly the typical Mistress.”
She leaned forward again and pressed her lips to the side of his aching shaft, leaving a clear imprint of her lush lips in the red lip stain she wore.
It’s like she’s fucking branding me, Thorn thought. If so it was a b
rand he would gladly wear.
“There now, I think you’re hard enough,” Neh’sa murmured.
Rising, she reached into her beaded bag and withdrew the everlast band. It fit around the base of his cock and twisted around the base of his balls as well, making both feel sensitive and vulnerable.
On display, Thorn thought with a mixture of pride and shame. No male should be so willing to be exploited just for the pleasure of his female and yet he couldn’t help himself – he wanted Neh’sa to be proud of him. Wanted to make a good showing before the other Mistresses in order to please her and bring her status.
“You look lovely Thorn,” Neh’sa told him with a smile. “I’m so proud to have you at my side.”
“I’m proud to be here,” Thorn told her and it was true. “You look lovely too, Mistress,” he added, taking in her nearly bare breasts and the opening in her panties that showed the naked slit of her pussy. “If you’d just given me a minute to look at you in that dress, you wouldn’t have had to suck me.”
“But I wanted to suck you,” Neh’sa purred. Taking his shaft in her hand, she stroked from the root of his cock all the way up the broad head until a single bead of precum appeared on his slit. Leaning down, she lapped it away with a single stroke of her little pink tongue. “I enjoy your flavor.”
“As I enjoy yours, Mistress,” Thorn growled, his cock throbbing in her hand.
Her cheeks went pink, but she ignored his reference to the night before when he’d taken control and tasted her pussy until she came for him—came over and over until he finally allowed her to stop.
“Come,” she murmured. “It’s time we were announced and entered the banquet. The sooner we get this over with the better.”
She swept from the room, leaving Thorn to follow in her wake.
Chapter Nineteen
The large golden arch which led into the banquet hall of Club Carnivorous was located down a long set of stairs and around a corner from the readiness room. There was no way to see what other Mistresses might be waiting to be announced—which was how Neh’sa had the bad luck to turn the corner just as Lady Wraith’neck and her strange pale, bony beast were next in line.
She might have peaked around the corner—might have thought to check first before coming out into the open by the golden arch. But her mind had been full of the little scene she’d just played out with Thorn—the strong, salty taste of him filled her mouth and his presence at her back filled her mind. She hadn’t been lying—she loved his flavor. Not to mention the way he groaned in the back of his throat when she took him in her mouth…
But I didn’t only do it for my own gratification, Neh’sa told herself. I wanted to try and take his mind off the Mistress with the fire whip.
Indeed, the internal pain she’d felt coming from him and the look of mute horror on his face had been enough to freeze her in her tracks. And that feeling—so strong and relentless—that he’d deserved the pain. That he was somehow atoning for something…but what?
The feeling had shaken Neh’sa to her core. She usually just got more general sensations of pain or emotional upset from those around her and mostly only when she “tuned in” to them. With Thorn, she seemed to be tuned in all the time. And this time it had been hard to bear.
What happened to him in the past that made him feel he deserves to be hurt? she wondered. He’d been tortured before by his own admission yet he never seemed to want to talk about it. Also, he’d been prepared to allow her to do things he didn’t want done to his body…until she’d shown him sometimes that which is fearful can also be pleasurable.
Was he trying to make up for something—allowing himself to be hurt over and over? Was he—
Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as they rounded the corner and found themselves face to face with Lady Wraith’neck and the hideous pale beast she was passing off as a body-slave.
“Well, well—hello, Neh’sanna.” Lady Wraith’neck sounded extremely pleased to see her. “I’m so glad you could make it tonight.”
“Of course,” Neh’sa heard herself saying through numb lips. “The announcement of a new member in our ranks—the ranks of the Sacred Seven. I couldn’t miss it.”
“Of course not—being one of the Seven yourself.” Lady Wraith’neck’s thin upper lip curled. This was an honor she professed to care nothing about yet Neh’sa could feel the painful jealousy welling out of the other woman’s pores like poison sweat.
Or maybe it was the new perfume Lady Wraith’neck was wearing that she was sensing. It was an odd, very unpleasant musky scent which made her wrinkle her nose.
“I wonder who the Yonnite Council has chosen to take the open chair,” Neh’sa said, deciding to make small talk since the other Mistress was acting civil for once. “Madam Thrust’much has had a difficult decision to make after Lady Gret’long stepped down as our seventh.”
Madam Ulala Thrust’much was the Grand Dame of the Council as well as the judge and arbiter for all of the inner fights and squabbles between Mistresses. She oversaw Yonnite high society with an iron will and no one dared to disobey her.
“Yes indeed, Uly has a difficult choice.” Lady Wraith’neck smirked, as if she knew something Neh’sa didn’t. “I was telling her so just the other day when I had her over to my domicile to try a proprietary new dream gas blend. She was quite taken with it—it’s rather addictive but so lovely.”
“Well, I—” Suddenly Neh’sa gave a little shriek—something ice cold had stroked over the back of her calf.
Looking down, she saw the hideous pale beast had dropped to its knees and was snuffling around her feet and legs. Its long arms were still strapped to its sides but somehow it had gotten a thin, forked tongue through the metal and crystal of its muzzle and had managed to lick Neh’sa’s leg.
“Get the hell away from her, you fucker.” Thorn planted one booted foot in the center of the creature’s chest and kicked, hard. It flew backwards, the momentum dragging against the leash in Lady Wraith’neck’s grip and nearly yanking it out of her hands. The beast landed sprawling on its spiny back, hissing and spitting.
“Watch what you’re doing, idiot!” Lady Wraith’neck said sharply. “You’ve already cost me one expensive slave—I won’t have you ruining another before I’ve even prosecuted your Mistress for the loss of the first one!”
“Thorn was just trying to protect me,” Neh’sa protested.
“Oh, yes—I know all about that brute’s methods of protection,” the other Mistress snapped. “And never fear, Neh’sa—I’ve been telling everyone of my acquaintance what a savage he is and how he can’t be trusted.” She arched an eyebrow at Neh’sa. “I think it might have affected your fine reputation as a slave trainer. Losing control of your body-slave the way you did and letting him run amok.”
That, of course, was precisely what Lady Wraith’neck had done but Neh’sa knew the other Mistress well enough to be certain she would have twisted the story of what happened at the Devotion Ceremony into a narrative where she herself was the ill-used heroine and Neh’sa was the neglectful hostess with the brutish, half-wild male who had injured Lady Wraith’neck’s own body-slave.
She also knew there was no point in fighting about it. In fact, another conflict—especially in full view of all the most powerful Mistresses in Opulex—was probably exactly what Lady’ Wraith’neck was after.
So, though she heard the low, warning growl rising from Thorn’s throat, she ignored the implied insult and changed the subject.
What is that thing on your leash, anyway?” she asked. “Surely it can’t be sentient.”
“It’s a night-slinker from Nightmare Seven in the Hell System.” The other Mistress lifted her chin proudly. “They don’t need eyes there, you know.” She nodded at the creature’s round, bulbous head which had no organs of sight of any kind that Neh’sa could see. “The entire planet is almost always in blackness. That’s why their sense of smell is so acute—it helps them track prey. But as for your question, they are sem
i-sentient—enough to be trained as body-slaves.”
The night-slinker had already gotten back to its feet and was sliding towards Neh’sa again. The slits of its nostrils opened wide as it scented her and its long black tongue snaked out between nonexistent lips to curl around the edges of its muzzle.
Almost like its tracking me! she thought and shivered.
“Oh dear—he’s got your scent now and he appears to be quite taken with it.” Lady Wraith’neck tittered most unpleasantly. “What a shame.”
“What…what do you mean?” Neh’sa asked, hating the catch she heard in her voice. She really didn’t like this thing—it gave her the cold chills.
“It means he likes you, my dear Neh’sanna.” Lady Wraith’neck smirked at her. “I’m afraid once one of these magnificent beasts decides it finds your personal scent alluring it won’t stop tracking you until it finds a way to get you alone.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Thorn demanded, putting himself between Neh’sa and the night-slinker. “Are you threatening my Mistress?”
Lady Wraith’neck’s yellowish eyes flashed malevolently.
“Of course not. I would never dream of threatening the eminent Lady Neh’sanna—she of the saintly non-cruelty causes and the private Mercy clinic which helps all the poor, downtrodden males that no one else in our society cares for.” She made exaggerated kissing noises at Neh’sa. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe it’s my turn to be announced. Come, Slinker.” She tugged on the leash, forcing the night-slinker—which still seemed much too interested in Neh’sa—to come to heel at her side as the herald at the door announced her.
“Lady Wraith’neck is now in attendance!” he boomed. This was the point at which her body-slave was supposed to kiss her panties but Neh’sa didn’t see how the other Mistress would compel the strange, pale beast on the end of her leash to do such a thing. Or indeed, why she would want to. The needle-sharp teeth that lined its gaping maw looked much better suited to ripping out throats than making a tender obeisance.
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