Azar's Prize

by Reese Gabriel

  Azar lifted him by the collar, suspending his entire body in the air. “I hope not. For your sake.”

  One by one, they searched them out. Azar knew already who they were, but he wanted to see if the man would lie to him. In the end, he dispatched a dozen, without ever touching the hilt of a sword.

  The first two sought to charge him with axes at the ready. He grabbed the handles mid air, snapping them. The men sought to run, but he grabbed them by the sides of their heads, crushing them together.

  The third had a laser weapon. Azar was too fast even for this. Ducking the bright red beam he delivered a kick to the midsection, knocking the man through the bulkhead.

  At this point two others attempted a cowardly attack from behind. He seized them in a bear hug, making them whimper for their last breath.

  The next one begged like a baby on his knees. Azar handed him a knife, with which to dispatch himself.

  Four more attacked en masse with swords. Azar cracked the blades, one by one. Then he broke their necks. The last two jumped into the airlock, in a crazed attempt to escape.

  With the death of his final adversary came a return to calm. Albeit with an unspeakable desire to lie beside Theryssa, to smell her sweet skin, to kiss her lips and neck, to hear the sounds of her surrender, to seal between them the sexual bond that he must have…or die.

  “You are second-in-command,” he deposited the bearded information provider back on the floor when the job was completed. “From this moment on.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” the man saluted, his intensity unmatched in pirate history. “You can count on me.”

  “I know that,” said Azar, his energy already shifting. To lust and conquest. “That is why you are still alive.”

  Vraka swallowed hard.

  “I’ll be in my quarters,” said Azar.

  “Very good, sir. Um…if I could ask a question, begging your pardon?”

  “What is it?”

  “The…uh…remains. What should we do with them?”

  “Launch the bodies of the traitors into space. Let the universe deal with them.”

  He saluted again. “Yes, sir.”

  Azar did not think he would have any mutiny problems again for a very long time.

  Unfortunately, his secret was out now. There was no mistaking he was more than a man.

  Word would spread to other ships. The other captains, lesser though they might be, could decide to unite against him if they suspected that he was really a primale, a former Guardian.

  He might well have to make a choice. Either surrender his command and flee to safer quarters, or else do what he had never been done before. Namely embrace both his primale nature and his pirate nature. This was what Theron was hoping for. That he would forge the pirates into a force worthy of battling the Narthians. Side by side with the Guardians.

  It would indeed comprise a splendid navy. Worthy of the finest traditions of the Guardians and the pirates alike.

  Now was not the time to face such decisions, however.

  Theryssa was waiting for him in his quarters. Theryssa, the one woman who stirred his blood and his loins like no other. Who felt in his arms like beauty itself…and truth, and destiny.

  A woman who was his equal in many crucial ways and who made up for her lack of male strength with cunning and a courage that outstripped that of anyone he had ever known.

  Himself included.

  The dynamics between them were subtle. Difficult to explain. It was interesting to watch Theron and Nyssa together. His authority as the male was quite evident, and he was quite sure that Nyssa yielded to him in all the appropriate ways. But she clearly had her own drive and she was not afraid to speak up and intervene when she needed.

  He saw how Theron respected that, how he knew to trust her and to bow to her grace and wisdom when needed.

  Azar would do the same with Theryssa, were he her mate. He would work carefully to be strong and not stubborn. Firm, but not pigheaded. He would take her submission to him as a gift, and he would never lose his humility.

  A woman like that would have to be a man’s partner.

  She would pose challenges for her mate that even Nyssa did not. She was of a more martial nature, like her father. She would always want to fight. But with feminine strength, he had often seem, came a secret need to yield to the right man.

  Theryssa responded to his power. She was turned on by his domination. Perhaps Nyssa found the same with Theron. Azar could hardly imagine Theron being less than a lion in bed.

  Certainly Azar himself had requirements. Needs. He could respect and adore Theryssa, but looking at her body, seeing the flame in her eyes, he could never not want her as his absolute sexual possession, moaning and writhing at his touch.

  In short, he would honor her as a queen in everything, but in bed, she would be his slave. All of this was a lovely theory, though. In reality, he could not see his life with her beyond today, let alone the rest of his days.

  Perhaps that was his pirate nature, living for the latest plunder, always knowing death could be around the next corner. Or maybe it was his old fears. About relationships. About love.

  Theryssa was not waiting for him in bed, where he had told her to be.

  And why should she be? She was willful and spirited. And a bit of a tease.

  Azar tried to hide his smile, affecting the serious countenance of the spurned Master. He found her still in the sanitizing chamber under the cleansing beams.

  His cock sprang to life at the sight of her under the golden rays. She was like a sun goddess. A nymph, her body arched, her hands caressing up and down her body.

  She was masturbating. Her mind and flesh lost somewhere far away.

  For a split second he thought of leaving her to her dreams. But that could never be. If for no other reason than that his own male urges were too strong.

  And not just for sex, but for bonding, too. It was literally implanted in his nature to lay hands on her such that she would forget every other man, to give her loving such that she could never lie with or even think of another.

  He must chain her with invisible links.

  Chains of the heart.

  Azar’s own heart swelled and ached with the implications.

  A man did not lock a female in a golden cage of love unless he was prepared to meet her every need, to be the hero of her dreams.

  She was so intent in her fantasy that she did not hear him approach from behind. One second under the rays and he was as clean as a newborn babe, the dead cells zapped from his body, his skin left tingling and refreshed, his cock twice as hard and a full two inches longer. Binding her arms to her sides, he cupped both of Theryssa’s breasts. “You are not in bed,” he whispered, grazing her ear.

  “I lost track of time,” she sighed, falling back against him.

  “Are you making excuses?” he asked, massaging her nipples.

  “No, Master,” she breathed, slipping perfectly into her role, “I disobeyed you. I should be punished.”

  “We have such a backlog already,” he teased. “I’m afraid I’ll grow old before we’re caught up.”

  “Worse things could happen.”

  Azar’s heart slammed in his chest. Was she saying what he thought she was saying?

  “Master…may I…” Theryssa had managed to work one tiny hand between them, her small fingers brushing his cock where it pressed into her ass cheeks.

  Azar let her turn and sink to her knees.

  “Forgive me,” she looked into his eyes, her own moist, “my Master.”

  She kissed the tip of his cock, treating it as an object of worship.

  “May I?” she asked again.

  He laid his fingers on her cheek, lightly drawing her forward. Theryssa opened her mouth, taking him smoothly inside. He expected her to stop, but she kept on going. Inch after inch after inch.

  By the gods, she was going to deep-throat him.

  Azar groaned, feeling himself suddenly captivated. If he had any hope
of holding on against her onslaught, it was blown to smithereens by her rapid-fire motions, sliding him out and then back in.

  Like a hungry bird, she bobbed her head, holding onto his hips for leverage. She wanted him to come quickly, and on her terms.

  She was going to get her way, too, for as much as he was supposed to be in control, this kneeling nymph was holding the key to his lust…and maybe his soul, too.

  “Theryssa…” he exhaled, feeling like a man stabbed. Gone was his usual restraint, his ability to stretch the sex out, molding the experience for his partner’s joy and titillation.

  He was just releasing, his muscles taut, his pelvis pushed forward. Hell, he didn’t even have to do the thrusting. Leaning his head back, he let loose with the cry of a warrior, a satisfied lion.

  His semen rushed into Theryssa’s mouth. She swallowed unabashedly. All of it, every last drop. He had so much of it, as though he hadn’t orgasmed in months.

  “Oh…baby. Sweet baby.” Azar was orbiting. Launching from one mountain to another, rockets inside his cock, shooting one after another. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady himself. No one had ever brought him off like this. No one. This whole situation was getting more complicated by the moment.

  Theryssa continued to suck him, getting the last available drops. Her mouth was like a vacuum, pure suction.

  Were he an ordinary man, he would have been spent for the night. Out of commission for hours. But Azar was not ordinary. Besides, he was on a mission.

  At last she released him, a catlike grin on her face. “I take it you accept my apology…Master?”

  She spoke the word with mild irony. Probing, testing. The power had shifted again, like a sand dune, sculpted by desert winds. He could not get enough of this interaction between them. It was as though his body was coming to crave it like some drug.

  Azar brought her to her feet and crushed the air from her with a kiss. By the time he released her, he had inhaled her very soul. She clung to him, whimpering, perspiring. From between her thighs, her wetness dripped. Her lips were puffy and needy. Above and below.

  “Do you feel that?” he asked.

  He meant his cock, pushing at her belly button, still rock hard.

  “Yes,” she panted, reaching for it with her hands.

  Azar took her wrists and held them over her head. “That cock is going to be in you and at you. Nonstop. For as long as I wish it to continue.”

  Theryssa saw in this no threat, but only a promise. “Oh, yes, I want you to, Azar, I do.”

  “You do now. But it will change. Soon enough there will be too many orgasms and too much intercourse. You’ll beg that the sex-making end,” he predicted. “And there is only way I will make that happen. Do you know what that way is?”

  She shook her head.

  “By exchanging the sex for torture, Theryssa. Yes, you will beg for torture. You will beg for the flogger. Or perhaps we’ll begin the other way around, by flogging you until you beg penetration. Do you think I could make you do that, Theryssa?”

  “Oh, god.” Theryssa shivered against him. Nibbling, caressing. She wanted to touch him everywhere at once. “Yes, yes to all of it. I fucking give in,” she groaned, barely able to articulate.

  Clearly his words had pushed her into a new place. A place of deep masochism. Azar instinctively knew how to treat her now to maximize the experience. Turning her about, he pushed her up against the smooth, rounded wall of the sanitizing chamber and entered her from behind. She was considerably hotter inside than the beams, her accompanying wetness in stark contrast to the dry, cleansing sensation.

  Keeping her hands against the wall, effectively pinning her breasts and belly, as he had with the conference table, he indulged in her pussy. Long, languid strokes—powerful, animal ruts.

  The rutting of a king, a lord of beasts. And why shouldn’t he feel the sheer passion and glory of this moment? After all, he had Theryssa, and he had her for all the time in the world with no one to oppose him in his enjoyment of her full feminine delights. All of them, her body, her mouth, her sighs, her blatant desire serving to heighten his sheer ecstasy.

  It was good to be a primale, able to fully exploit the situation. To have at Theryssa without the fear of losing control over his sexual releases. He could come now, and then keep going. And indeed, he would. “Theryssa,” he told her. “You are so fucking incredible. Do you know that?”

  “Oh, Azar.” She was pushing her ass out at him, practically daring him to push on, as far as his will would allow.

  In time…but for now, he made quick work of things, bringing Theryssa off to another orgasm, taking one for himself in the balance. It was a fast one, lean and low, just a few microbursts to whet his appetite for more.

  She was still twitching as he pulled out of her. “To bed,” he said.

  Azar scooped her up, cradling her. She clung to his neck, holding on as he tried to deposit her on the furs. She was no match for him, however, and he easily managed to lay her facedown.

  “Hold still.” He patted her ass with his palm.

  She clenched her buttocks instinctively, as though he had spanked her. Finding the pink folds irresistible, he pushed a finger into her pussy, hooking it.

  He had her, frozen.

  “Don’t move. No matter what.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Her breath was as still as her body. He had control, completely. “Theryssa,” he called her name.

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Come for me.”

  “Oh…yes…” She writhed wantonly, instantly obeying him, his little spy, horny, obedient. And in training.

  Mesmerized, he watched the motions of her body, her beautiful slit, the pink folds, the mysterious opening wherein his cock had found such pleasure. On and on, it went, her flesh dancing, lifting higher and higher to a peak of liquid bliss.

  He’d never been so happy as to be able to please a woman. And now it was time to take things a step further, to a new place.

  He waited until she had settled back down. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered.

  Azar went to the rack, retrieved a flogger—his favorite one, long and black, with a dozen strands of synthon, a material rather like suede, but with the advantage of feeling wet and liquid to the touch.

  Synthon had another advantage, which consisted of microscopic sensors that reacted on a cell by cell basis with the victim, conforming after the first blow to a pattern of personal, maximum tormenting.

  He also took a piece of ice—a small cube of it—from his beverage freezing unit. It was time to confuse Theryssa’s sensations a little bit.

  He sat down beside her. She tensed instantly. “That’s a good girl for waiting.” He ran his fingers down her back. He had the flogger in his lap, and the ice on the floor.

  “Thank you, Master.”

  He smiled down at her, building the anticipation.

  “Master?” She broke the silence.

  “Yes, slave girl?”

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  “That’s an easy one, Theryssa. Whatever I want to.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He reached back, caressing her instep.

  Theryssa startled, kicking out with her foot.

  “You were told to stay still.” He thwacked her, hard enough to leave a glowing pink patch. The next time would be worse, as the synthon learned her pain spots.

  “Ow,” she cried. “That hurt.”

  He spanked her again, on the same spot. “Were you given permission to protest?”

  “No, Master.” She gritted her teeth.

  “I didn’t think so. I want you to hump the bed,” he said, quite abruptly.

  Theryssa hesitated, as he knew she would. “Master? I don’t follow…”

  He spanked her again, inducing a stifled cry. “Of course you do, slave girl. You are to move against the mattress as though you were making sex with it. You’re to give me a little show.”

  “Yes, Mast
er.” Her voice shook with shame. He was pushing her to a new level.

  “You can do better than that,” he critiqued her first efforts, which were timid at best.

  Theryssa gave a little moan of frustration. Lifting her hips, she raised them in the air a few inches, and then lowered them, her pussy touching the furs once more.

  “A virgin humps like that,” he tapped her back with the flogger, “not a sex slave.”

  She moaned at the feel of the leather brushing across her flesh.

  “That’s right,” he confirmed her fears, “that’s the flogger. It owns you, and it’s quite hungry for your flesh.”

  Her breathing shallow and rapid, she began to make love to the bed in earnest. Her aroma filled the air as she writhed up and down, helplessly revealing her deepest carnal motions.

  She was like some exotic animal scratching an itch. All she needed was a little extra stimulation to put her over the top.

  “What do you think you’re going to do?” he demanded, lashing her ass cheeks with the flogger. “Come all over my furs?”

  “Oh, god,” she reacted, her cheeks vibrating and pinkening all at once, “what’s in that thing?”

  “It’s synthon. Special memory strands. It remembers what you like…”

  “I don’t…like this,” she protested.

  “Are you lying to me, slave girl?” Azar slapped her with the whip, strategically dragging one of the stinging strands across the crack of her pussy.

  Theryssa began to spasm uncontrollably. “Oh, my fucking stars.”

  “I’m thinking you do like this,” he teased her, whipping the back of her legs, lightly all the way down to her feet.

  She wriggled, trying to get up. He held her down, as he slapped the insteps of her feet. “Bad girl.”

  “I’ll be good, Azar,” she panted, desperately trying to dissuade him from using the flogger any more. “I swear.”

  “And obedient?” He lifted her face, tugging her head by the hair.

  “Yes…I will…I’ll be so obedient,” she moaned as he swished the flogger across her face, over her twitching lips and smooth cheeks.

  “I don’t know,” he feigned uncertainty. “How can I be sure you’re trainable?”