“Mistress?” he murmured again, stroking her cheek gently with the back of his hand.
Nikki bit her lip. Oh God, how embarrassing! He probably thought she was going crazy.
“I’m fine, Malik. I just had…some issues to work out. Maybe you’d better put me down, now,” she said, struggling to sit up.
He helped her up but seemed strangely reluctant to let her go. He just kept rubbing her back in long, soothing strokes and looking at her searchingly—which made Nikki extremely nervous.
“Honestly, Malik—I’m fine,” she said.
“Yes, Mistress.” He placed her gently on the couch beside him and looked at her. “Do you wish to have a refreshing bath in the soaking tub while I go to fetch your clothing for the evening, Mistress?
“Yes.” Nikki sniffed and sat up straighter, grateful that he was dropping the subject of her mini breakdown. “Yes, thank you, Malik—that would be lovely.”
“Very well.” He inclined his head to the vast marble tub of steaming water that stood in one corner of the bathing suite. “Shall I carry you over to the tub and put you in it?”
“That won’t be necessary—I can walk,” Nikki said gently. “But thank you for offering. Just…” She cleared her throat. “Just please make sure no other men—er slaves—come in here while I’m washing, okay? I’d like some privacy.”
“As you wish, my Mistress. I will post the privacy sign on the door.” He nodded gravely and headed for the doorway. He gave Nikki a long, searching look before bowing and closing the door behind him, leaving her to her own devices for the first time since she’d woken up in the tub of blood and found herself in this weird world in the first place.
Chapter Eight
Malik shook his head as he walked down the hallway leading to his Mistress’s main wardrobe room. That couldn’t be the real Mistress Hellenix back there—there was no possible way. Unless the bump she claimed she’d taken on the head had given her a concussion and changed her personality completely, he must have left a different woman from the one he knew so well back in the bathing suite.
He had thought he would test her and so he had—pushing her farther and farther deliberately to see how far she would let him go. And she kept showing him over and over that she wasn’t really herself.
The real Mistress Hellenix would never have asked for the other bathing attendant slaves to leave—she preferred to have an audience at all times—it was one reason she owned so many slaves. She also never would have allowed him to penetrate her—not even with his fingers. And most of all, the real Mistress Hellenix would never have curled up in a ball on his lap and cried as though her heart was breaking.
Malik squeezed his big hands into fists when he remembered her moment of weakness. In all the long cycles since the Yonnie Mistress had bought him, he had never seen her shed a single tear. She laughed a lot—a cruel, bitter sound that was most often heard during her torture of her slaves. But he had never once seen her break down and cry—had never seen her so intensely emotionally vulnerable as she had been just now.
Many males would have been put off by the display—would have sought to distance themselves from the extreme outpouring of emotion. But Malik wasn’t one of them. He was a Kindred, which meant he had an inherent desire to protect and defend and comfort females. Seeing his formerly cruel and heartless Mistress in such a defenseless position made his heart squeeze in his chest in a way he didn’t like at all.
For years he had desired her body while despising her soul—a dichotomy that nearly tore him apart at times. But at least his emotions hadn’t been involved in their twisted relationship—only his libido. He couldn’t afford to start having tender feelings for his wicked Mistress now. Not when he was so close to achieving his goal and restoring his home world. Not when she was due any day to get an invitation from the Knower—the AI that had wiped out all life on his planet—to tour Uriel Two and have a look at the facility that produced the SORs, the Simulated Organic Replicants.
If Mistress Hellenix visited Uriel Two, which was normally closed to all organic humanoid lifeforms, he would be with her. And then he would get his chance…
Don’t let her move you, he told himself sternly. It doesn’t matter that she cried for the first time—it’s probably all some kind of cruel hoax she’s playing. Don’t let her get under your skin—you’ll regret it!
He knew it was true but he couldn’t help remembering the soft, heartbroken sobs that had come from her or the way she had clung to him as though she was drowning.
No—stop it! Malik tried to push the memory from his mind and concentrate on something other than the feel of his Mistress lying helpless in his arms.
It wasn’t just Mistress Hellenix’s behavior that had changed—it was her speech patterns too—the new way she talked to him, he thought.
For the past three cycles she had ordered him here and there, never once saying please or thank you or apologizing when she was in the wrong. She treated Malik more like a thing—a clever appliance that was able to dress her and bathe her and give her a massage and make her come—no better than a living sex toy. But now she was so polite—so courteous to him in a way she never had been before. It just didn’t add up.
And what about the way she had reacted to his touch? Mistress Hellenix’s normal reaction to sexual stimulation was an almost bored indifference. She would often order Malik to lick her pussy while she had a glass of wine or just before bed at night to relax her but she never moaned and gasped and gave herself to his touch with total abandon as she had just now on the massage table.
Malik suspected that she was jaded and needed rougher treatment to get her off than he was willing to provide. That was where Ugger came in—the Dexian slave was often allowed to manhandle their Mistress in ways that turned Malik’s stomach. He couldn’t stand any kind of rape play—not when he believed to his core that a female was to be cherished and cared for, not hurt or taken against her will. As a consequence, Mistress Hellenix often allowed Ugger all kinds of sexual freedom with her body and forced Malik to watch as a punishment for his unwillingness to participate.
Such treatment was worse than if she’d used the pain collar on him, to Malik’s way of thinking. Though he despised her, he couldn’t help feeling possessive of his cruel Mistress. He had pleasured her too many times—had tasted and touched her too often—not to feel that she belonged to him in some twisted way as much as he belonged to her. Of course, she would doubtless laugh at such an idea and probably give him a jolt from the pain collar to punish such presumption.
Or maybe not…He couldn’t imagine the woman he had left back in the bathing chamber—the one who had reacted so strongly to his touch and had cried in his arms—doing such a thing. He remembered her big, dark eyes, fringed thickly with wet lashes, looking up at him as he held her. Gods, she was so beautiful it hurt his heart! Could she really be changing—becoming a whole different person somehow?
What was happening to his Mistress? And what would be the outcome of her strange change?
Malik honestly didn’t know.
* * * * * *
Nikki floated blissfully in the large hot tub that Malik had called a soaking tub. It had bubbling jets that felt wonderful and the water was almost, but not quite, too hot.
After the long massage, the intense multiple orgasms, and the emotionally cleansing cry she’d had, she felt all wrung out but in a good way. In fact, for the first time in ages she felt at peace.
There was no point in being worried about the future, she told herself. The few brief flashes she’d gotten from Mistress Hellenix seemed to indicate that the alien dominatrix was handling things in Nikki’s life, at least for the moment. And there was no way she could get home for several days. So for now, she should just enjoy living a life of luxury and ease—God knew she’d never have anything like it again once she got back to Earth and her family.
I need to store up all the happy memories of being pampered I can while I’m here, she told
herself dreamily as she floated in the pool. When will I ever get a massage with a happy ending from a seven-foot-tall Kindred again?
Never was the answer to that particular question and she knew it. But thinking of that made her remember being held in Malik’s arms while she cried. Why had he held her and comforted her that way? Was it just because he was being a dutiful slave? Or did he have feelings for Mistress Hellenix? Maybe he was secretly in love with her but he couldn’t show it because he was her slave. Maybe…
Suddenly an unfamiliar voice spoke behind her.
“Are you enjoying your bath, Mistress?” someone asked in a sneering, angry tone.
Nikki sat up at once, covering her breasts instinctively with her arms.
“Who…what…?” She turned to see three large slaves, all of them with huge erections sticking out of their leather trousers, staring at her from the doorway of the bathing suite.
“Hello, Mistress,” one of them smirked. He had dark hair and an angry smile on his face. He swaggered forward, followed by the other two.
“We heard you were having a little alone time, without that Kindred of yours to watch over you,” another one said. “He put up the do not disturb warning but we didn’t think you’d mind some company.”
“And we also heard that you’re not quite yourself, right now,” the third one chimed in. “Heard you threw Ugger in the hole on short rations when he licked your pussy without permission. Didn’t even cut his shaft off or string him up at the whipping post as a lesson to the other slaves.”
“What…what are you trying to say? Why are you here?” Nikki asked, trying to keep her voice steady and failing. She knew these men were supposed to be subservient slaves but they certainly weren’t acting that way—in fact, she felt distinctly menaced by the way they were looking at her.
She wished she wasn’t naked in the tub. They were all staring at her—their eyes devouring her bare body as though she was a feast and they were starving to death. She remembered Malik telling her that Mistress Hellenix controlled everyone’s orgasm in this place—how long had she been teasing these men? Prancing around naked or half naked in front of them, letting them kiss her panties, and refusing to let them come? They must be extremely sexually frustrated by now.
Of course, that wouldn’t excuse any violence on their part—nothing could. But Nikki was terribly afraid that some kind of violence was imminent here and she had no way to protect herself.
Their eyes were glued to her body in a way that seemed to support her hypothesis. The one in the middle—who had the most massive cock Nikki had ever seen—slowly reached for his throbbing shaft.
“Permission to remove my stay-hard band and pleasure myself to the sight of your beautiful body, Mistress?” he growled, raising an eyebrow at her.
“I’d like that permission too,” the second one said.
“And me,” the third slave growled.
Nikki wanted to tell them to get out and leave her alone—of course she didn’t want three strange men jerking off while they looked at her in the tub! But she was in fear for her life by this time. She didn’t dare tell them no.
“All…all right,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “I guess if you really need to…”
“Oh, I do need to. You haven’t let me come in nigh on an entire cycle, Mistress,” the first slave—the one with the truly massive cock—growled. “And I dream about your beautiful body every night, that I do!”
“And me,” the second man said and the third chimed in with an affirmative too.
All three slaves took the black bands from around the bases of their cocks and began to stroke, eyeing her body greedily as they did.
Nikki didn’t know when she had felt more frightened. Even Ugger’s attack hadn’t been this bad because it had been over quickly and Malik had rescued her before anything truly awful had happened.
Speaking of that, where was the big Kindred? Nikki wished desperately that she had some way to call him. When would he be back? Or had he decided—like these slaves apparently had—that his Mistress was going soft and now was a good time to make his escape?
Without Malik there, she felt helpless. All three slaves were much bigger and stronger than her and though all three wore thick black collars around their throats, she had no way to know if they were pain collars and if so, how she was supposed to activate them.
Was there some magic word she was supposed to say, like the word Mistress Hellenix had told her to use for Malik’s collar? Would the same word work for all the collars? But what was the word, damn it? Nikki still couldn’t remember except that she thought it ended in “ab” or “at.” So she had no way to defend herself and all she could do was cower in the water.
As the men stroked themselves, they came slowly closer to the tub, their eyes still fixed on her naked body, which Nikki was doing her best to cover.
“What’s wrong, Mistress? Why are you so shy all of a sudden?” the first slave asked, his voice thick with lust.
“Yeah—you usually love showing off your beautiful body to us,” the second said.
“You know how they say a Yonnite Mistress never lets a male penetrate her pussy her whole life?” the third asked. “Is that true, Mistress? Have you never had a cock in that tight little pussy of yours?”
“I…I don’t…” Nikki couldn’t even talk—her throat was dry with fear. She could see what was happening here—it was like watching a train wreck in slow motion and not being able to stop it. These three men were going to rape her if she didn’t find a way out of this situation—if she didn’t collect her wits and act like the real Mistress Hellenix would have.
“Would you like one now, Mistress?” inquired the slave with the huge cock. “Would you like me to stretch out that sweet little cunt of yours on my big shaft? I’ll be more than happy to do it for you—I’d love to be your first.”
Nikki’s heart was pounding so hard she could hardly breathe and even in the hot bathwater she felt cold all over. Still, she tried to keep her composure. Have to stay calm, she told herself. Have to act like the real Mistress Hellenix would in this situation.
“That is an inappropriate question!” she said, striving to make her voice sound firm and angry instead of weak and frightened, which was how she actually felt. “How dare you ask me that, slave?”
For a moment, a look of uncertainty and fear flitted over all three of their faces. But then the first slave—the one who with the huge cock—spoke up.
“If you don’t like it, why don’t you punish us, Mistress?” he taunted. “We got our pain collars on, same as always, as you can plainly see.”
“That’s right—can’t take the damn things off without being shocked within an inch of our lives,” one of the other slaves muttered angrily.
“Yeah, so why don’t you use them to punish us if you don’t like what we’re saying?” the first man asked.
“Because she has me to punish you instead!” a deep angry voice suddenly echoed through the bathing suite.
“Malik?” Nikki sat up and craned her neck hopefully, while still doing her best to keep herself covered. She couldn’t see anything because the three burly bodies of the slaves were blocking her way but she hoped it was him—hoped he was here to rescue her…
“What’s it to you, Kindred?” The leader of the three rounded on him and the others turned as well. The three of them walked towards Malik, menacing him the way they had been menacing her a moment ago.
Malik spoke not to them, but to Nikki.
“Mistress, please remove yourself from the tub and go find a dry spot to stand in.” His face was completely calm as he spoke but Nikki could see the tiny sparks of lightning cracking between his fingertips. Then she understood why he wanted her out of the tub. If that really was electricity he was generating with his hands, it wouldn’t do to be caught in a full bathtub when the shit hit the fan—or when the lightning hit the water.
She scrambled quickly from the tub and grabbed one of the thirs
ty black fur towels to wrap around herself before edging over to the corner of the bathing suite where she could take shelter in the massage alcove.
“You think you can take all three of us?” the first slave asked, sneering at the big Kindred. “Think you can take us all on when your precious Mistress won’t lift a finger to stop us?”
“I know I can,” Malik said evenly. “And she’s your Mistress too, Ranks.”
“Only ‘cause she bought me! I never asked to be bought by the likes of her. Cunt.” The slave spat angrily on the immaculate marble floor.
“You’re going to lick that up, Ranks,” Malik growled softly. “And then you’re going to go on your knees and apologize to your Mistress—all three of you are—and pray she has mercy on the lot of you.”
“Fuck you, Kindred,” one of the other slaves snarled. “Who’s gonna make us?”
“I am.” Suddenly Malik darted forward. The slave he was coming at swung with a closed fist but the big Kindred ducked under the blow and grabbed the other man by the throat. Just before he made contact, Nikki saw a bolt of lightning leave his palm and run down the other slave’s body like silver fire.
“Ahhgh!” The man gave a strangled scream and his entire body went rigid and shook like he was having a seizure as Malik lifted him easily overhead one-handed. After a moment his eyes rolled up in his head and the big Kindred dropped him to the floor and reached for another rebellious slave.
This one tried to dodge away but Malik caught him by the arm with the same results as the first. He, too, shook and seized and dropped to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the only one standing was Ranks—the slave with the massive cock. Although, Nikki saw with some satisfaction, it was considerably smaller and limper than it had been. Clearly he was frightened, though he didn’t want to show it.
“Hey,” he said uneasily, taking a step back. “What the hell? How did you do that, Kindred? Did the Mistress give you control of our pain collars or what? I always knew you were her favorite but this is fucking ridiculous.”
Twisted: Brides of the Kindred 23 Page 11