“Now then, Mistress—let’s make this quick,” he said in a businesslike voice. “Spread your legs for me, please, so I can reach you.”
Nikki didn’t know when she’d been more embarrassed. Was he going to shave her right here and now? But she knew if she objected, she would be outing herself as an imposter. Biting her lip so hard she tasted blood, she opened her thighs, feeling both embarrassed and insecure.
“Now then—this is a new cream I’ve been saving,” Malik told her. “It should dissolve the hair follicles completely and painlessly in a matter of moments.” He looked up at her. “Shall I put it on you?”
“I…yes. Yes, I…I guess so,” Nikki said. Her voice sounded high and squeaky in her own ears but there was nothing she could do about it. It was like something out of a porn movie, she thought, but what could she do but hold still and let Malik spread the cream on her?
“Very good,” he murmured. Squeezing a dollop of pale pink cream out onto his fingers, he began to rub it into her pussy mound with a firm but gentle motion that was almost like a massage. “It has to be rubbed in thoroughly to get to the follicle root,” he explained when Nikki made a little sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan and shifted her hips in protest. Gary had never done anything like this for her—no man ever had. She hardly knew how to react and she could feel her cheeks getting hot with a blush.
She was glad she shaved the rest of her pussy regularly and that he was confining his attentions to the top of her mound. She could only imagine what those long, strong fingers would feel like rubbing lower, stroking her pussy lips and maybe slipping inside her folds to touch her throbbing clit…
No—don’t think like that! You can’t let yourself think like that! she told herself sternly. But she couldn’t help it—the sight of the big Kindred kneeling at her feet and the feeling of him massaging her pussy mound was making her all kinds of hot and bothered. It had been so long since a man had touched her there! She tried to remember the last time she and Gary had made love that included any kind of foreplay and couldn’t do it.
Mostly whenever they did it, the act lasted less than two minutes. It consisted of Garry rolling on top of her, pumping for a short time until he grunted in her ear, and then rolling off again and going to sleep. Afterwards Nikki usually took care of herself—if she wasn’t too tired to care, that was. It was hard to want sex when she was worn out from holding down a job and doing all the work at home as well. Mostly all she felt was relief that Gary was done. There was no anticipation, no teasing, and no cuddling afterwards. It was strictly wham-bam-thank you ma’am—no frills sex.
After what seemed like forever, the huge Kindred stopped rubbing and wiped her mound gently with a warm, wet towel he had also brought with him.
“There, Mistress—all clean and smooth, just as you like it,” he murmured. Then, to Nikki’s surprise, he leaned forward and planted a hot, soft kiss to the center of her mound, just above her slit. When he looked up at her, his eyes were heavy-lidded. “Are you pleased, my Mistress?”
“Oh, yes—-yes, very, uh, pleased,” Nikki blurted out. “That, uh, didn’t hurt a bit. Thank you, Malik.”
“I live only to serve your every whim, Mistress,” he rumbled. “Perhaps later you can reward me with a taste of your sweetness. But for now, the slaves await inspection. So let us get you into these panties.”
Nikki stepped into them and allowed the big bodyslave to draw them up her legs. She was really glad she’d shaved them recently—although she might think about using some of the cream the next time. It really had done a wonderful job on her mound.
And letting the big Kindred slave serve her seemed to be doing a job on her head as well. As Malik smoothed the tiny red triangle over her pussy, the heat of his hands and the gentle but knowledgeable way he touched her sent shivers through her body. She couldn’t help remembering Mistress Hellenix’s words—“I let him lick my pussy—Kindred love that!”—and wondering how it would feel to have his mouth on her instead of just his hands.
“Spread your legs if you would, please Mistress,” he murmured, looking up at her. “The string of these panties is made to pleasure you with Desire pearls but they must be placed against your clit to function properly.”
Biting her lip, Nikki did as he asked, spreading her legs wider so that he could slip the bottom string of the panties—which was, indeed, studded with tiny, smooth black beads—between her pussy lips.
Malik never actually touched her clit himself but he came awfully close to it as he adjusted the desire pearls so that they lay against her tender little bump. When they touched her, Nikki felt a little tingle of pleasure—almost like a barely-there vibration—run through her sensitive folds.
“Oh!” she moaned softly, shifting her hips to try and get used to the sensation. It wasn’t strong enough to bring her to her knees, but it was definitely noticeable—a constant low buzzing that teased her swollen clit, making her feel wet and excited in a way she hadn’t felt in what seemed like years.
“Does it please you, my Mistress?” Malik murmured, looking up at her.
“Yes,” she whispered and somehow she found that she was stroking his shaggy mane of hair as he held onto her hips. “Yes, Malik, it pleases me very…very much.”
“Perhaps later you will allow me to put my tongue where the Desire pearls are now?” he growled softly. “Perhaps you will allow me to taste your sweet juices and lap your hot little cunt, Mistress?”
“I…um…” Nikki felt herself blushing but at the same time, his dirty talk was turning her on almost unbearably. She had always wanted to be with a man who knew just what to say to make her hot and the big Kindred was pushing all the right buttons. She was so used to being with Gary, who couldn’t find her clit with two hands and a flashlight and whose whole idea of dirty talk was inarticulate grunting during their two minutes of sex that she couldn’t help feeling flattered and hot when Malik spoke such sensuous words in that deep, growling voice of his…
Then she realized what she was doing—she was letting herself get carried away into fantasyland when the situation she was in was actually life and death.
Stop it, Nikki, she scolded herself. Don’t forget you’re only playing a part and if he finds out you’re not her, he’ll kill you! So stay focused!
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin and determined to do just that.
“Maybe later,” she said, taking her hand away from his hair and lifting her chin. “For now, I think we’d better do that inspection.”
“As you wish, Mistress.” Malik nodded and then led the way out of the massive BDSM bedroom.
Chapter Five
Something strange was going on with his Mistress, Malik reflected as he strode down the hallway of graven images, where the statue slaves spent much of their time. She had seemed…different ever since her rejuvenation treatments.
At first she had acted as though she didn’t know him—then she had asked that he not look at her body when she normally delighted in showing herself off to him and teasing him with her luscious curves.
It was a conundrum and a constant torment to Malik that though he despised Mistress Hellenix, her body continued to draw him. She was an ugly soul in a beautiful vessel and though he hated to admit it, he desired her even though he loathed her.
Be patient, he told himself. It’s not forever. As soon as she has her meeting with the Knower on Uriel Two, you’ll have your chance.
The thought of going back to his old home world—which he hadn’t seen in over ten standard cycles ever since the AI called the Knower had taken over and killed all organic life—seemed to open a hole in his soul. It was an old wound—one which still ached and burned when he thought of his family and friends, all of them killed in a single sweep. He had only been spared himself because he had been off-planet at the time and he had lived with the guilt of being one of the only survivors ever since.
But I have a way to make it right, Malik told himself fiercely. If only he could
gain access to his old home world—and Mistress Hellenix was the key to that. She was the only one Malik had been able to find who had the nerve to deal with the Artificial Intelligence who had made a genocidal sweep of Uriel Two, killing every living being on its surface.
Which was why it concerned him that she was acting so strangely.
She stepped into the first pool and let the blood cover her head as she always does…and then came up acting differently, Malik thought. Almost like a different person—what happened?
If he hadn’t been watching her every minute during her treatment, he would have assumed that someone had somehow switched her for an exact duplicate. Perhaps one of the Simulated Organic Replicants the Knower had been manufacturing. Mistress Hellenix had commissioned one in her assassination attempt on Commander Sylvan of the Mother Ship but it had failed, thank the Goddess.
But though the Knower continued to refine its Replicants, they still weren’t convincing enough to pass for completely humanoid. And anyway, how could a Replicant have been placed in the tub while his real Mistress was whisked away under his very eyes?
It was impossible.
And yet…impossible or not, something was definitely going on and Malik didn’t buy his Mistress’s explanation that she had hit her head.
Not only was she acting differently but Slinker, her pet gnasher, had growled and hissed at her. Slinker had as nasty a personality as his mistress and was an excellent judge of character, Malik had found. If a person had a good heart and was generally kind and decent, Slinker hated them with a passion. But the little gnasher adored sociopaths and killers—he was always passed from lap to lap whenever Mistress Hellenix had her fellow mistresses over for one of the elaborate entertainments she often hosted, which mostly consisted of torturing slaves while the Yonnite women looked on and laughed.
So what does it mean that Slinker suddenly can’t stand her? Malik wondered, casting his eyes back to see if Mistress Hellenix was following him. She was, but she was walking in a stiff, self-conscious kind of way and she kept adjusting her gown, trying to get it to cover more of her breasts and panties.
That was unlike her too. If there was a word besides sociopath and sadistic that described his Yonnite mistress, it was exhibitionist. She absolutely loved to show off her beautiful body—in extreme ways that defied even the already revealing fashions of Yonnie Six. It was her practice to keep all her slaves either in chastity with cages around their shafts, or in a rampant state of readiness. None of them—Malik included—was allowed to come without her express permission which was almost never forthcoming. She adored keeping them all in a state of sexual starvation, with herself as their only nourishment.
In fact, nothing pleased Mistress Hellenix more than to parade around her vast mansion wearing a skimpy, barely-there outfit and allowing her multitude of male slaves to kiss her panties—teasing them and denying them sexual release. That was the whole reason for the weekly inspection—that and the fact that she delighted in punishing any slave who displeased her in any real or imagined way.
Knowing all this, Malik had been surprised that she had ordered full coverage panties instead of split ones which would show a tantalizing glimpse of her soft little pussy to her slaves. But he’d been even more surprised that the springy black curls he had removed only the day before had somehow regrown on her soft little mound. How was that possible? And why was his Mistress acting so ill-at-ease and fidgeting with her clothing, paying almost no attention to the statue-slaves instead of preening and parading—putting on a show as she usually did during the inspection?
Her manner had changed completely. He had tested her in the bedroom—daring to lay hands on her when she hadn’t asked him to. When he cupped her bare breast and teased her nipple, she had looked shocked but she hadn’t spoken the pain word to activate his collar. She had, at last, asserted herself, but only after he had pushed her far past any limit he had dared to approach before.
What was going on?
Malik didn’t know but he resolved to keep watching his Mistress and see if he could find out. After all, his entire plan to save his old planet hinged on her. He hadn’t allowed himself to be bought and tortured for so many cycles for nothing—he had a vested interest to protect here.
Resolving to keep a very close eye on her, Malik turned to his Mistress at the end of the long corridor where the slave statues posed. He bowed and opened the door which led to the rest of her mansion.
“If it pleases you, my Mistress, the rest of the slaves await your inspection,” he murmured.
The old Mistress Hellenix would have tossed her head, letting her shiny black hair swing like a curtain of silk, and paraded past him without even acknowledging his words. This new Mistress, however, ducked her head shyly and nodded appreciatively.
“Thank you, Malik,” she murmured, tugging at the neckline of her gown nervously. “I’ll, um, go inspect them then, I guess.”
Malik frowned and nodded for her to pass through the doors, which she did. As he watched her walk, his frown deepened.
Something was definitely wrong and he intended to find out what in the Seven Hells it was.
* * * * * *
Nikki couldn’t believe how huge her evil twin’s lair was.
She must be some kind of billionaire businesswoman, she thought, gazing in awe at the luxurious surroundings.
Instead of red and black like the bedroom, the main part of the mansion was decorated in gold and black with black ceilings and walls outlined in what appeared to be solid gold wainscoting and trim. The floor was black marble veined with some golden mineral that glimmered richly and there were vast, elaborate chandeliers made of some topaz-like gem shedding jewel-toned light over everything.
There were more of the golden statue-slaves as well, Nikki saw, all posed in elaborate ways and all with rampant erections poking out obscenely. Cutting her eyes to the left to examine the nearest one, she saw that he had a kind of black band around the base of his shaft which stood out against the gold paint. So that was why all the slaves were hard! But wasn’t it dangerous for them to maintain erections for so long?
She thought about asking Malik but then stopped herself just in time. The real Lady Hellenix wouldn’t give a damn if the cock rings she put on her slaves caused any kind of medical problems. Nikki would just have to hope they were okay, although she couldn’t help feeling worried—she didn’t like to see others in pain.
The black interior of the main hall would have made it seem small and cramped anyplace else. But the fact that it was so large helped offset the grand but gloomy décor. It did, however, give Nikki the feeling of walking through a haunted palace.
There was a raised dais in the center of the room with a large, luxurious chair that was almost more of a couch right in the middle. It was covered in what looked like long black fur but when Nikki climbed the stairs and petted it, she saw it was a kind of grass instead. Cool and ticklish, the individual blades of black grass caressed her palm and twined around her fingers, as though eager to touch her.
Eww! She pulled away quickly. No way was she sitting on that thing! It was way worse than the thirsty bath towel because the blades of grass were so long and wiggly.
“Mistress, do you wish to receive the obeisance of your slaves here or shall we continue the tour?” Malik asked.
Nikki bit her lip—she really wanted to see the rest of the palace or mansion or whatever it was, but she also wanted to get the “obeisance” part over.
“Maybe we can do some of the slaves down here and then continue the tour?” she suggested.
“As you wish, my Mistress. I will call the slaves of the downstairs areas to come to you here and you can see the upstairs slaves when you ascend to the upper level,” he said, nodding respectfully.
“That sounds fine to me.” Nikki nodded but Malik was frowning at her.
“Well? Are you not going to seat yourself on your pleasure throne to greet them as you always do?” he asked.
“Oh, of…of course.” She nodded quickly.
So then, though it was the last thing she wanted to do, she was forced to sit on the weird grassy couch after all.
Nikki settled carefully on the “pleasure throne” and then gasped when the ticklish blades of grass caressed her behind. When Malik gave her a sharp look, she tried to turn the gasp into a cough and look unconcerned. Of course the real Mistress Hellenix wouldn’t be shocked by sitting on her own sofa—or pleasure throne. So she tried to adopt a nonchalant attitude as she lounged on the grassy surface.
But next she felt the long, ticklish grass strands somehow making their way into her panties. She stifled another gasp as they stroked languidly over her mound. What the hell? Was the grass actually supposed to act like this? And how could they be getting through the fabric of her dress?
Looking down and spreading her thighs as inconspicuously as she could, she saw that the slender strands had somehow penetrated the fabric of her red panties, the way grass will grow through a screen outside if it’s allowed to. She would have thought that they would get tangled up in the desire beads but if anything, they seemed to be working with the beads to tease her.
Unfortunately, her new position spread her open in a way that allowed the ticklish grass to get better access to her pussy. Nikki had to bite back a moan as she felt the slender black strands spreading her outer lips and reaching in to caress her clit, adding considerable stimulation on top of the faint vibration of the beads.
Oh my God, this couch is fondling me! What the hell? Where did Mistress Hellenix even find this thing?
She wanted to jump up and get away but she felt frozen to the spot, mesmerized by the sight of the black tendrils invading her panties and under them, her pussy.
“Ah Mistress—I see you are ready to receive obeisance,” Malik remarked.
Nikki jerked her head up and realized that she was just sitting there with her legs spread watching as the weird alien couch molested her.
Twisted: Brides of the Kindred 23 Page 7