“You won’t. And anyway, the other Mistresses won’t be as interested in your speech as in the demonstration you’ll be giving of one of the devices for sale tonight.”
“Wait a minute—we talked about this before and I told you I don’t want to try out any kind of pain collar or cattle prod or anything that might hurt you!” Nikki protested.
Malik sighed. “But you must, I’m afraid. If you don’t, the other Mistresses will know you are not the real Hellenix.” He reached over and placed a hand reassuringly on her thigh. “Look, Nicole, whatever you have to do to me, I promise it’s nothing that hasn’t been done before. I’ll be fine.”
“But what, uh, device am I even going to be demonstrating?” she asked. “I’ve seen all the weird things in Mistress Hellenix’s BDSM bedroom and I wouldn’t know how to work half of them.”
“We won’t know until the head vendor tells us,” Malik said, a touch grimly. “My Mistress never wanted to tell me ahead of time what she was going to use on me—she liked my reaction to be authentic and un-rehearsed.”
“Well, I still don’t think—” Nikki began but just then the ship dipped below the level of the bubble and Malik piloted them into a large circular hole in the side of the building.
“Landing now,” he said as the ship followed a lighted path through the parking garage and into a berth between two others that looked very like it, except that one was painted a shimmering gold.
Or was it actually made of gold? Nikki couldn’t tell. It seemed like an impractical and incredibly expensive material to make a space ship out of, but who knew how much money these Yonnite Mistresses had to throw around? They might all be richer than God, if Mistress Hellenix was any indication.
Malik got out and came around the ship to open her door and help her down.
“Ah, I see that Mistress Tangle-Skank is here already,” he remarked, looking at the gold ship as Nikki descended. “You’ll want to be careful around her. She’s got a sharp eye and she’s one of my old Mistress’s main rivals.”
“She is? Why?” Nikki asked curiously.
“They have always run in the same social circles and been rivals in the elite society of Yonnie Six. But I think a large part of their rivalry is because of me,” Malik answered.
“Because of you?” Nikki looked at him in surprise. “How so?”
He looked thoughtful.
“Well, I entered myself in the Blood Circuit and made a name for myself specifically to attract Mistress Hellenix’s attention because she was the only person I knew of who had dealings with the Knower—the only one with any hope of penetrating Uriel Two. So when the time came to auction me off, I told the auctioneer to be certain I went to her. Unfortunately, Mistress Tangle-Skank was bidding on me at the same time. When she lost the bid, she was extremely jealous of my old Mistress.”
“I could see why,” Nikki murmured. She would have been upset to lose someone as valuable and unique as Malik too, she thought. “So now she has it out for me? Or rather, for Mistress Hellenix?”
Malik nodded. “She’ll trip you up if she can. So just be careful.”
“I will. What does she look like?” Nikki asked as they made their way towards a lighted pathway that led up to the bubble-covered roof.
“Like that,” Malik murmured, nodding at the path ahead of them. A rail-thin Yonnite Mistress was making her way towards them, an inquiring look on her sharp features. She had a long nose and small, beady black eyes that reminded Nikki of a rat. Her dishwater blonde hair had been streaked with blue and turquoise and purple strands and braided into a wide fan almost the size of a peacock’s tail that rose a full three feet above her head.
What in the world was keeping it in place? Nikki wondered—it looked like it ought to flop over at any minute but somehow it didn’t. She was relieved to see that the other Mistress was dressed in a similarly revealing fashion to her own outfit, though.
Mistress Tangle-Skank had on a purple dress with a plunging neckline which clearly showed off her boney chest and artificially rounded breasts. The gown had a slit running up to her navel which showed purple, sparkly panties that looked like they had been bedazzled by about a million tiny diamonds.
Well, if she’s looking for an attention grab, she’s got it there, Nikki thought to herself. Those sparkly Cartier-type panties are unforgettable. Looks like she’s wearing a jewelry display on her crotch!
Walking respectfully behind Mistress Tangle-Skank was a bodyslave with dark hair and blue eyes. He was naked and had an exposed, erect shaft which bobbed and jingled in front of him with every step, due to the fact that it had been criss-crossed with a red ribbon which was hung with many tiny gold bells. There was a blank, impassive look on his face but Nikki thought she could see misery far back in his dull blue eyes—poor guy!
“Oh, hello, Velka!” Mistress Tangle-Skank exclaimed, coming towards Nikki.
“Velka?” Nikki was glad she’d asked Malik to keep the privacy bubble in place around the two of them. It was invisible but they would be able to talk without anyone hearing them, as long as they were in close enough proximity.
“That is my old Mistress’ first name,” he explained, speaking from behind her, in her ear. “And Mistress Tangle-Skank’s first name is Tacky.”
“Seriously? Her name is Tacky Tangle-Skank?” Nikki half turned her head to see if he was joking but Malik only frowned.
“It is a family name, I believe. Why—does it surprise you?”
“Tacky just means something else where I’m from. And so does Skank for that matter.” Nikki shook her head. “I’ll explain later.”
“Hello, Tacky,” she said, speaking up as they reached the other Mistress and her slave. “How are you tonight?”
“Perfectly well except for my Manfredo keeps being clumsy. He’s not the brightest flare in the bunch, unfortunately—I bought him for the size of his shaft, not the size of his brain.” She sighed and frowned at her slave peevishly. “But I swear if he doesn’t straighten up I’m going to give him the rod!”
“Um, yes. You’d better do that. There’s no excuse for clumsy slaves,” Nikki said, nodding. “Are you looking forward to the banquet?” she asked.
“Of course I am!” Mistress Tangle-Skank’s beady eyes gleamed. “I’m especially intrigued about what kind of device you’ll be demonstrating for us tonight. Word around the city has been that it will be some new kind of rod. Can you tell me?”
“I’m afraid not,” Nikki said, trying to smile though inside her stomach was suddenly knotted into a fist of tension. A new kind of rod? She didn’t want to use anything like that on Malik—not after hearing what he had gone through with the real Mistress Hellenix! “You’ll just have to wait and find out,” she said.
“Oh you—always so secretive, Velka!” Mistress Tangle-Skank gave her a sharp, shrewish smile that was more like a grimace. “I’m your oldest friend—you can tell me! Besides…” She leaned in closer and breathed, “I made a bet with Yasmy Redbottom that you’d tell me. So come on—I don’t want to lose the wager.”
“I’m sorry but I really can’t tell you,” Nikki said firmly, hoping this was how the real Mistress Hellenix would have handled the situation. “There are still a few, er, kinks to be ironed out. I’m sure you understand.”
Two white dents appeared on either side of Tacky Tangle-Skank’s long nose and her beady eyes narrowed.
“What I understand is that our friendship apparently means nothing to you! Why, I wagered an entire floor of my best downtown building. If I lose, that awful Yasmy Redbottom will move her whole slave-milking operation in there and I’ll have to see them extracting male seed every day as I go up and down from the penthouse! How can you betray me like this?”
Nikki didn’t know what to say but luckily, they had reached the top of the winding lighted pathway and were coming out onto the rooftop terrace enclosed by the vast bubble. She caught a whiff of air from the roof and thought it smelled strangely sweet—like some kind of exotic
spice. The scent seemed to make her feel lightheaded for a moment and she almost stumbled, but then she regained her balance.
Strangely, her body seemed to react to the spicy air as well. Her nipples tightened into hot little points under their layers of punishment dust and her pussy suddenly felt wet and swollen.
“Hmm,” she heard Malik murmur behind her. “So they’re pumping lust-dust through the circulation system—no wonder they wanted the atmosphere dome.”
“Lust dust?” Nikki asked.
“A mild aphrodisiac, Mistress,” he murmured. “It will not impair your judgment—though it will heighten your sexual desire considerably.”
“It will? But I don’t want to walk around horny all night,” she started to protest but just then they came to the end of the lighted path.
Standing at the end of the path was a slave dressed in elaborate scarlet and black livery, holding a long silver instrument that appeared to be a cross between a guitar and a trumpet. Or that was what it looked like to Nikki—it was about three feet in length and it had three long strings strung between the mouthpiece and the wide silver bell at the end.
Beside the slave was a kind of platform that had four steps leading up and four leading down on the other side. It was just big enough for two people to stand on at once.
“Ah, Mistress Tangle-Skank and Mistress Hellenix,” he said, bowing low. “So good to see you both tonight. Which of you shall I announce first?”
“Me!” Mistress Tangle-Skank pushed rudely ahead of Nikki and mounted the small platform with her slave in tow. “You’d better do a good job kissing my panties, Manfredo, or it’s the rod for you!” Nikki heard her mutter to the hapless bodyslave.
“Yes, Mistress.” He nodded dully and Nikki thought he really didn’t seem very bright. Then Mistress Tangle-Skank made am imperious motion to the slave in the livery.
“Proceed! And make certain my introductory notes are especially loud. I want all eyes on me.”
“Yes, Mistress Tangle-Skank.”
The slave in the livery strummed three reverberating notes on the strings of his instrument and then raised it to his lips and played a strident blast. The rooftop terrace—which had enough tropical plants in it to look like a garden—was filled with Yonnite Mistresses and their slaves. All heads turned at the sound of the guitar-trumpet and everyone watched expectantly.
“Announcing Mistress Tacky Tangle-Skank, a leading Mistress of the Yonnie Six Slave-Subjugation Club,” the slave in livery said in a loud voice—almost a shout, really.
“Thank you.” Mistress Tangle-Skank nodded regally and widened her stance, clearly waiting for her slave to pay his public obeisance to her.
With a jingling of the many tiny bells fixed to the ribbon around his straining shaft, Manfredo dropped to his knees before his Mistress and pressed his face into her crotch.
But just as quickly, he jerked away again with a muffled cry of pain.
Nikki wasn’t sure what was going on, but then she saw tiny scratches around the slave’s cheeks and mouth and understood that the many tiny, sharp diamonds on Mistress’s Tangle-Skank’s elaborate panties must have cut him.
Mistress Tangle-Skank must have realized the same thing but she obviously didn’t give a damn about the fact that her slave was injured—she was simply mortified that he had jerked away from her instead of kissing her as he was supposed to.
“Manfredo!” she hissed, grabbing at his hair. “Get back here! What is wrong with you?”
“Sorry, Mistress but your pussy bit me!” the slave protested loudly.
Though Mistress Tangle-Skank was trying to drag him back between her thighs, he was resisting and since he was twice as large and probably many times stronger than her, he was winning. The result, Nikki thought, was like a kitten dragging at a Great Dane who wasn’t budging.
“Come back here! Come…kiss…my panties!” Mistress Tangle-Skank insisted.
But Manfredo was rapidly shaking his head.
“Nu-uh,” he protested loudly. “Don’t like it, Mistress. Your pussy bites! Don’t wanna!”
Amused titters and a few audible guffaws came from the watching audience. Clearly, this was not at all how the ritual was supposed to go. Mistress Tangle-Skank’s face went from red to almost the same shade of purple as her dress.
“I’ll give you the rod!” she threatened. “I’ll sell you to the Blood Circuit or the mines and you’ll be dead within a solar month! Or I could just set off your pain collar right now.”
Manfredo got a mulish expression on his dull face.
“Don’t care. Don’t like your biting pussy!” he insisted shaking his head vigorously. “Even the pain coller’s better than that!”
At last Mistress Tangle-Skank had to give up.
“Never mind,” she hissed, heading for the stairs going down. “Just follow me. I’ll decide what to do with you later, you miserable idiot!”
Snuffling but still defiant, Manfredo shambled down the stairs after her, the tiny bells on his shaft still jingling loudly.
“Well that was kind of a mess,” Nikki murmured to Malik. But it was the slave in livery who answered her.
“Oh my yes, I’m afraid so! I haven’t seen such an inauspicious entrance since Mistress TatterAss tripped over her helium heels and fell down the steps flat on her face. And they talked about that for cycles,” he murmured. “I do hope you and your slave can do a better job up there, Mistress Hellenix.”
“Count on it,” Malik growled from behind her. “Come, Mistress—it’s time to make your entrance,” he said to Nikki.
They climbed the steps together and Nikki tried not to look out and see the crowd of Mistresses and slaves that were all staring at her. But somehow her eyes kept returning to the sea of faces, all watching her intently.
We have to get this right, she thought. Literally everyone in this entire place is watching!
Including the red-faced Mistress Tangle-Skank, who was standing at the back of the crowd with a scratched and bleeding Manfredo behind her.
“Widen your stance, and raise the skirt of your dress” Malik murmured to her.
“All right.” Taking a deep breath, Nikki opened her legs and raised the shiny black skirt to well above crotch level, even though flashing her panties to a crowd went completely against her shy and modest nature.
And yet, it didn’t feel quite so wrong as it would have back on Earth, she had to admit. After all, nobody knew her—not the real her—here and she wouldn’t have to worry about ever seeing them again. Also, the spicy lust-dust was making her feel hot and naughty, like some kind of a porn star about to put on a show. A new thought floated into her head.
I look damn sexy in this outfit, with my nipples and panties on display and Malik about to get between my thighs.
It was true, Nikki realized, and what was more—she felt sexy too. Could this be a whole other side of her that had never had a chance to come out before? Was there a wild, wanton woman hiding inside of her just waiting to be released?
She had a feeling she was about to find out.
“Are you ready, Mistress?” the slave in livery asked.
Nikki nodded. “Go ahead.”
The slave made a little bow of acknowledgement and strummed another few notes on the guitar part of his instrument before blowing a clear, silvery blast.
“Mistress Velka Hellenix of Yonnie Six, head of the Board of Directors for BleakHall Prison and Chairwoman for the Society to Promote Pain-Training for Slaves,” he announced loudly.
On cue, Malik dropped to his knees before her and pressed his face eagerly between her legs.
In that moment, Nikki was profoundly glad they had practiced having him kiss her the night before. If she hadn’t gotten used to the feel of his hot mouth branding her pussy so much and so often, there was no way she could have stood there in public and let him go down on her while everyone watched.
As it was, she could hardly hold still because Malik seemed determined to do a much bet
ter job than the last slave had. Pressing between her thighs, he put his mouth to the slit in her panties and tongued open her pussy with practiced ease. Nikki moaned softly as he lapped upward, bathing her throbbing clit with his tongue over and over as he lavished deep kisses on her “panties.”
“Oh…Oh, Malik,” she couldn’t help moaning as he lapped her. She had to put one hand in his thick hair and brace the other on his broad, bare shoulder to steady herself—the pleasure he was giving her made her weak in the knees.
Oh God, good…so good! she thought incoherently. She took in another deep breath of the spicy, lust-dust laced air and thought she could feel her heartbeat at the tips of her nipples and the sensitive little nub of her clit. Malik’s mouth was driving her out of her mind.
And then she felt him lifting one of her thighs.
“Malik,” she gasped, looking down. “What—?”
He looked up, his mouth shiny with her juices, his silver eyes blazing.
“Trust me, Mistress,” he growled hoarsely. “Let me open you so that I may kiss you more deeply.”
Nikki hardly knew what to say. She was aware that they were still being watched and that many of the Mistresses had envious looks on their faces. After all, they could force their slaves to kiss their panties, but how many could boast of having a slave who actually wanted to perform the intimate service—wanted it so badly that he didn’t want to stop?
None of them, I bet, Nikki thought hazily. I bet there are some Mistresses on Yonnie Six who have good relationships with their slaves, but this is the Banquet of Pain—all of the Mistresses here like to beat and torture their slaves. I bet none of them has a slave that actually wants to give them pleasure and cares about them the way Malik cares about me.
The thought gave her a warm glow inside and she caressed the big Kindred’s hair tenderly. Then Malik propped one of her thighs over his broad shoulder and drove every other thought out of her mind by pressing his tongue directly up into her pussy.
“Oh!” Nikki moaned—who could have told that he had such a long tongue? It felt amazing! She held onto his broad shoulders, moaning helplessly as he tongue-fucked her, completely forgetting for the moment about all the people watching. God, the way he was eating her was driving her crazy. It was even better than last night because this time he was giving her some penetration to go along with the way he was stimulating her clit. Which was supposed to be outlawed on Yonnite Six but apparently it was okay since it was only his tongue and not anything else sliding deep into her pussy.
Twisted: Brides of the Kindred 23 Page 23