He wanted to discomfort her and put her off her guard and it worked. Kaylee’s eyes widened and she took a step back, her rounded posterior bumping against the mirrored wall of the elevator just as it emitted a soft chime and came to a halt.
Suddenly Lyra looked up and realized what was going on.
“None of that, slave.” She prodded Solar sharply in the back with the remote. “You’ll keep your eyes down. A slave must never dare to meet the gaze of his betters,” she explained to Kaylee.
“Oh,” Kaylee murmured faintly. She had a hand pressed to her chest, right between her full, soft breasts. She was still breathing hard as though she’d just run up a flight of stairs instead of standing quietly in the elevator locking eyes with Solar.
They all stepped off the elevator, Lyra still right behind him with the remote, and marched up to a tall, padded, red leather door. Solar stared at it narrowly.
What the hell is this?
He was soon to find out. At a word from Lyra, Kaylee swiped a magni-key over the door panel and the blood-red door swung silently open. At more prodding with the remote, Solar stepped past it and into the weirdest room he’d ever seen.
Everything was black. The walls and ceiling were black padded leather similar to the door, and the floors were made of some black polished wood which gleamed in the dim red lights placed in the corners of the huge room. The center of the room was dark and filled with indistinct shapes that looked like furniture—at least Solar thought it was furniture until Lyra raised her voice and demanded, “Lights, medium.” When the interior of the room was illuminated, he stared in dismay.
To start with, there was a large, rectangular waist-high table which doubled as a cage, with bars where its legs should have been. Then his eyes moved to a black wooden cross with manacles dangling from its crosspieces and from there to a long, flat black padded bench, also with manacles dangling from its corners.
A machine which looked like an inclined plane caught his eye—some kind of a spanking or whipping bench? But attached to the lower half of the plane was a machine with a piston arm clearly intended to drive forward and back in a steady motion. Attached to the arm was a large, black phallus which made Solar’s eyes widen. What in the Seven Hells?
Not a whipping bench then—a fucking bench, if he was interpreting its use correctly. He swore to himself he wouldn’t be strapped down and penetrated by that damn phallus. Pain collar or not, he’d make a break for it if the sadistic Lyra tried to put him in that position.
But to his relief, his captors led him around the penetration bench and straight to one of the few pieces of equipment in the room that wasn’t black. It was a huge silver X which towered above everything else. Wrist manacles and ankle restraints were affixed at each corner.
Lyra pushed a release button and the cuffs around his wrists fell off with a clatter. This was what Solar had been waiting for but the moment he started to raise his numb hands, Lyra shocked him with the collar again, driving him to his knees. Solar clenched his teeth as jolts of pain ran through him, making him feel like he was being electrocuted. His muscles contracted painfully, his back arched in a perfect bow of unbearable agony.
On fire, Gods, I’m on fire!
“Just in case he gets any ideas,” she told Kaylee when the other girl protested. Finally, she stopped the pain and Solar went limp, panting. “Stand up. Arms up over your head,” she barked at him. “Now or you get another jolt!”
Solar glared at her with real hatred. He had never treated another being in such a fashion—he wouldn’t wish this on his worst enemy. But Lyra seemed to be enjoying herself. What kind of a sadistic witch was she?
He rose slowly when she pointed the remote at him again. What else could he do? As long as Lyra held the controls to his pain collar he was trapped.
“Manacle his hands to the whipping cross,” Lyra snapped, speaking to Kaylee this time.
“What? Why me?” Kaylee looked near tears. Clearly she had a much more tender heart than her friend. Not that that excused her in Solar’s eyes. He still intended to make his new mistress pay if he ever got out of this nightmare.
“Because you’re too soft to push the button,” Lyra said, stating the obvious. “Fasten his wrists to the posts with the metal cuffs. Do it now, Kaylee.”
“All right.” Kaylee couldn’t reach his wrists until Lyra pointed out a small wooden step stool in the corner, obviously used for this exact task. She dragged it over and stood on it, trying not to look him in the eyes as she clicked the metal cuffs around his wrists, fixing them securely to the corners of the huge metal frame.
Solar stared at her, keeping his eyes trained on her face. His vocal chords, which had been frozen by the chemical the slaver had injected into them, were beginning to thaw and he could feel a low, rumbling growl building deep in his chest.
You’ll pay for this, little mistress. Oh, you’re going to pay…
* * *
Kaylee wished her new slave wouldn’t keep staring at her that way. And was he actually growling? She couldn’t help remembering the way their eyes had locked in the elevator and the implied threat in his green and gold gaze. Goddess, the way he looked at her was so intense. It seemed to promise she would get back everything she and Lyra were dishing out with interest if only he could get free. The thought made Kaylee shudder and not just because she dreaded his intended retribution.
For some reason the way her new slave stared at her reminded her of the stash of illicit porn vids she’d found in the back of one of Aunt J’s closets. Vids of males dominating females instead of the other way around, the way nature intended. There were even some of males penetrating females with their shafts—an unheard of taboo. It made her wonder if Aunt J had been some kind of a sexual pervert. Or maybe she was just willing to try anything at least once. That seemed more in keeping with her dare-devil character.
Though she was shocked and dismayed by the illicit images, Kaylee hadn’t been able to stop watching them. They made her think of stories she’d heard of the Kindred—the race of males who were genetic traders and traveled the universe in search of females to bond with. Of course, her new slave was a Havoc, not a Kindred but still… The disturbing scenes gave her a strange, throbbing, tingling feeling between her legs which she had never felt when viewing other, more standard pornographic material with females dominating males…
Her new slave’s deep growl was becoming more menacing. It jerked her out of her illicit memories and made her blush when she realized he was giving her that intense stare again.
Stop it—stop thinking about it when you’re so close to him, she told herself as she fastened the cuffs around his wrists with trembling fingers. What if Havoc males can read thoughts somehow? She’d heard it said that their genetic cousins, the Kindred, formed a telepathic bond with the females they mated. Could it be that the Havoc had a similar talent? Kaylee didn’t want to find out.
She bit her lip and looked away quickly when their eyes caught and held for an instant again. She had the absurd urge to apologize to him. To tell him it wasn’t her fault—that this whole thing had been Lyra’s idea. But she was pretty sure she was the one he was blaming. After all, it was her credit that had bought him and her dungeon he was currently being cuffed up in.
Speaking of the dungeon, she’d never gotten such an intimate look at it before. Her mental picture of Aunt J as a kindly and benevolent person was somewhat stretched when she looked around at all the strange torture equipment, not to mention the paddles, whips, floggers, and crops hanging from the racks on the walls.
Ha—as if you’re any better, a little voice in her head sneered. Just look at you, chaining your own personal body-slave up so you can…Can what? Kaylee had no idea what Lyra had in mind for the poor male, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.
“Good.” Lyra nodded approvingly as Kaylee finished with the Havoc male’s second wrist and stepped down from the stool. “Now we’re ready to begin. Kaylee, take off his trousers.�
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“What?” Kaylee turned to her, aghast. “What did you say? I thought you said to take off his trousers but you can’t really mean for me to—”
“Of course I do,” Lyra snapped. “A large part of training any good body-slave is the sexual component. And you want to make sure his shaft is as big as it seems in the trousers. Some slavers will stuff a slave’s crotch to trick prospective buyers. You can’t be absolutely certain until you look.”
“But…but I don’t want to look at male organs,” Kaylee protested, even as she remembered uneasily how much time she’d spent doing that exact thing while viewing her aunt’s porn collection.
“You’re not just going to look at them—you’re going to touch them,” Lyra snapped. “Now go on—get those trousers off, Kaylee. Or would you rather I shock him again and see if we can train him using pain alone?”
Kaylee knew she couldn’t stand to see her new slave in agony again. She hated the pain Lyra inflicted on him every time she pressed the remote to the pain collar. But her friend seemed more than willing to use it as she demonstrated by pointing the small black rectangle at his broad chest, her finger hovering over the buttons.
“All right, all right,” she said quickly. “I’ll take off his trousers.” She stepped forward, trying not to see the glare on her slave’s face or hear the growl rising in his chest.
“Silence, slave,” Lyra barked. “Or you’re going to get another jolt for insolence.”
The growl died to a low rumble and Kaylee made herself reach out and touch the tight, black leather trousers. After fighting with the magnetic tabs at the front for a moment, they parted suddenly and a long, thick, semi-erect shaft sprang free.
“Oh!” Kaylee jumped back in surprise. She’d never seen male sexual organs up close—only in Aunt J’s vids. But even to her unpracticed eye, the Havoc male seemed to have an especially large one.
Lyra barked a laugh.
“Well, well—it looks like the slaver didn’t stuff his trousers after all.” She motioned at Kaylee. “Don’t be afraid, you ninny—it won’t bite! Pull his pants down the rest of the way and get them off.”
Kaylee didn’t like this but Lyra was still holding the remote on her new slave like a weapon, which she supposed it really was. Feeling put-upon, she tugged the tight leather the rest of the way down and got the trousers off his large feet and ankles. Then she stood back and took a deep breath in awe.
Standing naked and stretched spread eagle on the vast silver X which Lyra had called a whipping cross, the slave really was an amazing sight. He was so big for one thing—his shoulders were twice as broad as any other male's she'd ever seen and his hands would swallow hers—if she were going to hold his hand, which of course she wasn’t. His broad, muscular chest had a fine mat of light brown curls right between the flat, copper disks of his nipples. A trail of the same wiry hair led down his rippling abdominals like an arrow pointing to his shaft. He had long, muscular legs which were also dusted lightly with hair but Kaylee’s eyes kept returning to what was between them.
Goddess he’s so big, she thought. Unbidden, the images from her aunt’s porn collection rose in her mind’s eye again. Only this time instead of anonymous actors, the male wore the Havoc’s face and the female wore hers. What would it be like to have something like that inside you? Something so thick and long and hard? She was still using the same little pleasure wand she’d gotten as a coming of age gift to relieve her sexual needs, but it wasn’t nearly the size of her new slave’s shaft. Not even close.
Stop it, she told herself. What’s wrong with you, Kaylee? Get hold of yourself for Goddess’s sake! But she couldn’t banish the images completely, they kept intruding into her mind, making it difficult to think. Difficult to do anything but imagine what it would be like if she…
“…in your hand.” Lyra’s voice intruded on the illicit fantasy.
“I’m sorry, what?” Kaylee blinked, realizing she’d been tuning out everything but her new slave’s considerable endowment.
Lyra frowned. “Honestly, Kaylee, pay attention—this part is important! I said now you have to take his naked shaft in your hand.”
“I what? But why?” Kaylee could feel her cheeks burning at the very idea. She squeezed her hands into fists at her sides even though she secretly wanted very much to know what that long, thick shaft felt like. Would it be hard and cold like a block of ice or marble? Would it move if she touched it or stay perfectly still?
Lyra blew out an exasperated breath.
“I told you the sexual component of training is important. Essential, even.”
“But…then why can’t you do it?” Kaylee demanded. “Since you know how.”
“Because I’m not his mistress. He has to be submissive to you,” Lyra said impatiently. “He has to know that you can handle and touch his body at any time you choose and there is nothing he can do about it. Nothing but submit.”
“But I…I don’t want to hurt him.” Kaylee wasn’t sure how delicate a male’s organs were, but she’d heard they could suffer intense pain from the maltreatment of their equipment—especially the egg-shaped testicles that hung below the long, thick shaft.
“You wont’ hurt him just by touching him,” Lyra motioned with the remote. “Now go on—do it! Oh, but wait—get some of this first.”
Never lowering the remote, she reached over and picked up a small bottle of reddish-gold oil which she tossed to Kaylee.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Kaylee looked at the bottle uncertainly.
“Oil him up, of course.” Lyra made it sound like no big deal. “Pretend you’re getting him ready for a feast and you want to show him off.”
“But…but I…” Kaylee tried to protest but Lyra had her stubborn face on.
“I’ll ask you again, Kaylee—would you rather train him using only pain? It can be done but it’s not a pleasant process.”
“No, I guess not,” Kaylee said reluctantly. “All right, give me a minute.”
She squirted some of the golden red oil in her palm and cupped it for a moment, letting it warm to her body temperature. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to spread oil over her new slave’s most private, intimate places?
It seemed that she was.
Stepping forward, she dared to look up once into his green-gold eyes. They were narrowed as the Havoc glared back at her. He seemed to be almost daring her to touch him.
“I…I’ll try not to hurt you,” Kaylee whispered, addressing him directly for the first time. “I don’t know what your name is but I’m not a bad person. I just--”
“Stop apologizing and do what needs to be done,” Lyra interrupted. “And his name is whatever you want it to be. He’s yours now, to name and tame and treat however you want. So get to it, Kaylee and stop acting like you bought a wounded animal at the shelter instead of an expensive piece of property that has to be properly broken in.”
“I’m sorry,” Kaylee breathed for the slave’s ears alone. Then she reached out and slid her hand lightly over his thick shaft. “Oh!” She bit her lip, surprised at how warm he was—even hot. His skin was much softer than she’d supposed too—the texture of flower petals under her fingertips.
This close to him, she was aware of a spicy, dark scent that seemed to rise from his big body and invade her senses. It was warm and rich and unlike anything Kaylee had ever smelled before. Masculine, she thought and knew that was it. Somehow his scent was the very essence of whatever it was that made him male. It was nothing like the sweet, floral perfumes that females wore—it was wilder, more dangerous—much like the Havoc himself. To her surprise, she liked it.
She took a deep breath, pulling more of the rich scent into her lungs, and held her new slave more firmly. As she touched him, his thick shaft went from semi-erect to rigid in her palm. She gasped when it throbbed in her hand.
“Look at that, you’re having quite an effect on him,” Lyra cackled, breaking her concentration.
Kaylee looked up and saw that her prisoner was looking at her again. His eyes were half-lidded now and the rumble in his chest was rising to a growl again. Goddess, had she hurt him? Was he angry with her?
“I…I should stop,” she said, drawing her hand away.
“No, you shouldn’t—you’ve barely gotten started,” Lyra snapped. “Now cup his balls and give them a good squeeze—let him know who his mistress is.”
“I…” Kaylee looked uncertainly at the rounded testicles hanging below his rigid shaft. “I don’t know.”
“Do it!” Lyra demanded, gesturing with the remote. “This is his weak point so use it. Let him know he can expect both pain and pleasure from your hand!”
Biting her lip, Kaylee reached under his massive shaft and cupped him gently in her oiled hand. She didn’t care what Lyra said—she wasn’t going to squeeze or twist or give him pain. But she had to admit she did want to touch this most delicate part of him. He seemed so strong and huge and muscular—it was appealing, somehow, to be able to hold his weakness in her hand.
As she stroked him lightly, the slave gave a low groan and his shaft twitched. A small bead of clear fluid appeared at the tip of the broad, plum-shaped head.
“Oh? Did I hurt you?” Kaylee asked anxiously, forgetting she wasn’t supposed to talk to him.
His only response was another deep growl but he didn’t seem to be pulling away from her touch. In fact, if anything, he was moving into it. Hesitantly, Kaylee wrapped her other hand around his oil-slicked shaft. Just as she’d seen the female do in the porn vid, she began to stroke him up and down as she fondled the sac between his legs. The slave groaned again and his hips began to pump, moving in time to her hesitant stroking.
* * *
Solar groaned as Kaylee continued to stroke him. Now his new mistress had all of him—all of his malehood—cradled in her hands. If she was the kind of female Lyra was, she could cause him spectacular pain. But instead of twisting or squeezing his balls like her sadistic friend demanded, Kaylee seemed more interested in exploring him…in teasing him, Gods damn her!
Mastering the Mistress Page 3