Toymaker's Pet (Dark Star Doms Book 2)

by Ivy Barrett

  Slade looked at Bryce, his chest as tight as his groin. They had hired test subjects before, many of them. Still, the thought of denigrating Bryce by making her a sexual object of study clawed at his gut.

  “Her former employer logged a glowing recommendation before he died,” Slade muttered.

  “Was she with him when he passed beyond?” Matthias wiggled his bushy eyebrows. “That’s how I want to go. Damn. She’s gorgeous.”

  “She’s also telepathic.”

  “Are you sure?” Matthias moved his chair closer to the observation window. “Why didn’t she list her abilities on her application?”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Slade glanced at Matthias. He owed the ornery old man more than his life. He owed Matthias his sanity. How could he refuse him anything? Slade sighed and turned back to the observation window. Bryce sat quietly, her expression inscrutable.

  “She scanned me so fast I barely got my shields up in time.”

  Matthias turned his chair toward Slade. “Is she empathic?”

  “My gift doesn’t work like that.” Bryce knew what she was getting herself into. He’d made their expectations clear. If it didn’t bother her, why should it bother him? “The strength of her scan about knocked me backward, but I’m not able to detect the nature of her abilities.”

  “We requested an empath.” Matthias heaved an audible sigh. “Why would she try to hide that from us?”

  “Give me a few minutes and I’ll find out.” Slade raked one hand through his hair. The choice should be simple—loyalty to his best friend or protecting a woman he’d just met. So why did he feel torn? “If she doesn’t have a good reason for the deception, I won’t bother with the rest of the assessment.”

  “Now that would be a waste. Can’t you confront her after the final phase of the interview?” Matthias asked with a wicked grin.

  Chapter Two

  Petra stood in front of the surveillance grid in her plush office on the upper level of the Dark Star. A top-down view of the entertainment floor dominated the display. Eight smaller scenes edged the top, and an additional eight lined the bottom. She had a top-notch security team supervising all activities, but she liked to keep an eye on things as well. Twenty years in the pleasure industry had honed her instincts to a razor’s edge.

  Pleasure Master Twelve had a new client bent over a padded bench. Her wrist cuffs were secured to the frame and her ankles to the floor. He’d been working her for several hours, pushing her harder than a first visit usually warranted.

  “Display station six.” An image of the couple filled the screen. Petra studied the woman. Her face was deeply flushed and cream coated her inner thighs. She didn’t appear to be in distress.

  Opening a compartment in the side of the bench, Twelve withdrew a butt plug. Twelve was one of her most popular Masters. Why was he being so extreme with this woman? He turned the base of the plug and beads of lube appeared. Petra activated audio, listening in on their hushed conversation.

  “Did you let him fuck your ass?” He held the woman’s cheeks wide, positioning the toy.

  “I let him do anything he wanted, you son of a bitch.” He shoved the plug home. The woman moaned, her ass cheeks flexing. “How is that different than what you do to all these women—and men?”

  “This is business.” He sneered. “How did you think I pay for all your—”

  The door behind Petra hissed and she muted the security feed. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Thorne amble into the room. “Twelve is using the entertainment floor to iron out his domestic disputes.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” He turned back toward the door.

  “That’s not why I paged you.” She turned back to the screen. Twelve had released the flexible tube from the other side of the bench. He pushed the sculpted tip deep into the woman’s pussy and activated the thrusting mechanism. If he’d brought her here against her will, Petra would have to fire him. She’d hate to lose him, but there were no exceptions to house policies. Vibrating the tiny audiocom attached to his wrist, she paged the Pleasure Master.

  He looked up, suppressing the anger in his expression. “Yes, Mistress?”

  “Let me speak with your client.”

  He lowered his wrist toward the woman’s face.

  “All guests of the Dark Star participate willingly. Would you like to be released?”

  “Fuck no!” she panted. “I’ve waited years for this.”

  “Punishment often involves pain. Are you requesting a full demonstration of your partner’s skills?”

  “Yes, damn it. Let him do his worst!”

  “Is that acceptable, Mistress?” He sounded a bit smug.

  “Carry on.” Returning the security feed to a wide perspective of the dungeon, Petra turned back to Thorne. “What is Matthias up to? He has Slade. Why does he need another assistant?”

  Matthias had insisted on complete privacy when he’d negotiated his contract eleven years before. She’d sent remote surveillance ’bots into his subterranean lair twice, but Matthias’ sensors had detected them. The second time, he’d stormed into her office, insisting she was in breach of contract, and threatened to move his operation. She hadn’t attempted to bug his level since.

  “Perhaps the assistant is for Slade.” Thorne stepped up beside her, his hands clasped behind his back. “He may seem repressed to you, but Pleasure Mistress Six has told me some stories you’d find hard to believe.”

  “Slade subs for that vicious bitch?”

  “No. She subs for him.”

  Petra narrowed her gaze on his profile. Was he serious? Only complete pain junkies requested Pleasure Mistress Six. “Why would my most brutal dominatrix sub for that…wimp?”

  “Change of pace? Maybe he’s hung like a horse.” Thorne shrugged. “I only know what I’m told. For the past two years, Slade has been utilizing her services—or rather, she’s been utilizing his.”

  “Is this on the books?”

  “No, ma’am. She goes to him after her shift ends.”

  “Back to the original question. What does the Toymaker need with a new assistant?”

  “I escorted three finalists down, but he sent two back up almost immediately.”

  She arched her brow “Who did he keep?”

  “Her name is Bryce, and she may be the most delectable piece of ass I’ve ever seen.”

  “Could you be a little more specific?”

  “Raven-black hair, big blue eyes shaped like a cat’s, nice round ass and pert little tits. Like I said, infinitely fuckable.”

  She crossed to her desk, her curiosity turning to concern. “Was she processed through personnel? Why haven’t I seen her file?”

  “Her background workup was transmitted directly to Matthias. I haven’t been able to trace the source yet. He’s paying her salary out of his private account. She isn’t technically an employee of the Dark Star.”

  “I don’t like this. Whenever that old goat turns secretive, it spells disaster for me.”

  * * * * *

  Slade left the inner office, walked through the lab and into the corridor. From the inner office he could access any of the project’s six main rooms. The inner office was a central hub from which Matthias controlled the entire level.

  Opening the door to the outer office, he waited for Bryce to look at him. “This way please.” Bryce glanced at the door through which he’d left earlier then stood and followed him into the corridor. “My business partner suggested I allow you to complete the interview process before I confront you about your omission, but I’m feeling unusually tolerant.”

  Their gazes collided, suspending them in time. Beneath her stubborn composure, he sensed a vulnerability nearly opposite from the untouchable façade she presented to the world.

  She dragged her gaze away from his and continued down the corridor. “I never reveal my gift until I know what I’m getting into. My parents were killed by a religious cult who thought psychic abilities were of the devil.”
<
br />   “I’m sorry for your loss.” He wanted to touch her, assure her she was safe, that no one would hurt her here. He paused beside the lab door. She spoke in a soft monotone. Was she reciting lines, or had she repressed all emotion associated with the tragedy?

  “I was eleven. I had no other relatives, so I became a ward of the state.” Bitterness bled through her casual tone. “The trainers routinely swept the group homes, looking for orphans with specific qualifications. I had just turned thirteen when I was chosen to be trained.”

  The hint of emotion soothed Slade’s suspicion while his heart rebelled against the life she described. The Dark Star, with all its decadent offerings, never coerced participation. “Did they realize you were gifted, or was it just your physical beauty that attracted their attention?”

  “Empaths make ideal trained companions. We’re able to sense exactly what pleases our employers and respond accordingly. My physical appearance was incidental. Faces can be altered, bodies sculpted, but empathic sensitivity can’t be induced.”

  “Actually there are programs that have managed, with varying degrees of success, to create psychic abilities. Still, I understand your point.” He scanned open the lab door.

  “Why do you need an empath for this project?”

  “The project is highly classified. I’ll explain everything—”

  “As soon as I pass the assessment.”

  She smiled, and blood rushed to Slade’s groin, hardening his semi-erect cock. Shit, if her smile gets me hard, how am I going to survive once she undresses?

  “Are you able to repress your abilities?” He ignored the conspicuous bulge in the front of his trousers and led her farther into the lab. Long counters and cabinets lined two walls. A fully adjustable procedure table dominated one end, and doors to the adjacent rooms completed the arrangement.

  “If I concentrate, I can tune everyone out, but when I get distracted, emotions creep back in.” She chuckled. “I suspect this project will be very distracting.” Slipping her hands into the seam pockets of her dress, she gazed around the room.

  “Is empathy your only ability?”

  I can communicate telepathically. Can you?

  Her thoughts slipped past his shield with such agility that Slade gasped. “Are you able to transmit emotions as well as thoughts?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

  “You’ve attempted to influence others and failed?”

  “I think anyone with psychic abilities experiments with their range. Have you never tested the extent of your power?”

  “This isn’t about me.” He studied her impassive face, his respect growing alongside his concern. What other surprises did she hide behind her reserve?

  “I’m surprised you could hear me. My parents are the only ones who—”

  “I thought your parents were murdered by religious fanatics.”

  “They were.” She sounded sincere, but she would no longer meet his gaze. “My abilities didn’t develop over time. To the best of my knowledge, I was born like this.”

  “Is your empathy spontaneous, or do you have to intentionally scan for emotions?”

  “It’s definitely spontaneous, but I’m able to garner more specific information if I scan. Very strong emotions often translate into images in my mind, but I’m unable to read specific thoughts.”

  Unless they’re sent to you?

  She smiled. “Yes. Is this a problem? Your posting requested an empath.”

  “No problem. I just want to understand the specifics of your abilities.”

  “Fair enough.” Her gaze returned to his. “What now?”

  Fortifying himself with a long, steady breath, he directed, “Undress and put your clothing in that locker.” He pointed to the bank of compartments recessed in the wall on the far side of the table.

  She averted her face as color burst across her cheekbones. “This is where I kiss my modesty goodbye?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Are you going to get naked too?” She kicked off her shoes and crossed to the lockers.

  Desire twisted through him. She had no idea how much he wanted to do just that. “I already have the job.”

  Without another word, she methodically stripped away her clothes, leaving only the golden choker encircling her neck. Slade grasped for his professional detachment with each garment she removed. Her legs were sleekly muscled, hinting at some form of physical conditioning. A sculpted abdomen confirmed his theory. Her dress had built-in support for her high, round breasts, but her panties were separate. She bent from the waist as she removed the panties, presenting Slade with a spectacular view of her firm ass. She closed the locker and turned to face him, her arms at her sides. Her feminine curls had been neatly trimmed into a perfect triangle, leaving her delicate folds visible.

  “Now what?” She managed to sound casual, but uncertainty and resentment shone in her eyes.

  He started to tell her she didn’t have to do this, but Matthias’ image appeared within his mind. She did have to do this, and so did he.

  “Open the locker on the end and choose a toy.”

  Understanding dawned in her expression, and her breasts heaved with her ragged breath. She combed her fingers through her long hair and nodded silently. With unbelievable poise, she walked to the locker and opened the door. She made her selection and closed the locker. He was about to give her further instructions when he saw her sultry smile.

  She held a slender dildo in one hand and a fingertip vibrator in the other. “Why don’t you roll that stool right up to the foot of the table so you can see exactly how well I respond to stimulation?” Despite her practiced smile, her gaze glassed over, concealing her true emotions.

  He swallowed hard. He’d seen that look so many times on the entertainment floor, people so jaded they felt nothing at all. Obedient without being overtly submissive, wasn’t that what her employer had expected? Slade hooked the stool with his foot and sat. She hopped up on the table and spread her thighs wide. Her folds parted, revealing her rosy cleft.

  With a siren’s smile curving her lips, she slipped the vibrator onto her index finger and went to work. She traced her lips and trailed her finger down the slender column of her throat, drawing his attention to the graceful symmetry and flawless skin. Circling each breast in turn, she had her nipples hard before she touched them with the gently humming toy. She arched her back, licking her lips as she teased her nipples.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to help me, sir?” Her voice purred, making him squirm. “I’d love to feel your mouth on my breasts, tugging and nibbling.”

  Slade groaned, adjusting his position on the stool. She eased her hand between her thighs, spreading herself wider, displaying the pearly essence already coating her folds. He wanted to drape her legs over his shoulders and thrust his tongue up into her creamy core. He’d lick and suck until—

  She’s not here for you, Slade! Give it up.

  She lay back, pulled up her legs and placed her heels on the edge of the table. It would be so easy to open his trousers and step between her widespread thighs. She waited, tormenting him with an unobstructed view.

  “Continue.” The word sounded choked and desperate.

  She traced her slit with the tip of the dildo, up and down, up and down, pausing to rub against her clit at the top of each stroke. “This is rather awkward, sir. Won’t you please help me?”

  “Just make yourself come, so we can go over your contract,” he snapped. His balls ached and his cock threatened to burst his pants open. He’d thought the Dark Star had desensitized him, taken him beyond this urgency.

  She pushed the dildo into her wet passage and left it there while she moved the vibrator to her middle finger. Intrigued by the adjustment, he followed each movement with his gaze. She held herself open with her outer fingers and circled her clit with the vibrator. Her employer must have liked to watch. She had definitely done this before.

  Dragging the dildo completely out, s
he hesitated a full second before plunging it back in. She gasped and lifted her hips off the table. Open, wet, aroused, her body arched, her breasts quivering with each firm thrust. Slade clenched his fists so hard his nails broke the skin on his palms. He couldn’t look away. Hard and fast, she fucked herself with the dildo. Her finger moved over her clit with the same frantic rhythm. Cream coated the toy and trailed down into her ass crack. She gasped and panted, her hips pumping.

  She cried out sharply as an orgasm burst within her. Pushing the toy deep, she flicked her clit with the vibrator until every last spasm of pleasure ran its course. Her legs shook, her ass clenched and cream dripped onto the table. With a ragged sigh, she relaxed. Her legs remained open, the base of the dildo a taunting reminder of what she’d just done.

  Slade pushed to his feet, shocked by the shaking of his knees. “The toys are disposable. Take a moment to dress and compose yourself. I’ll be waiting in my office.”

  Chapter Three

  Trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, Bryce listened to the pompous jerk cross the lab. Take a moment to compose herself? Yeah, right. If he thought this little demonstration had rattled her cage, he underestimated her resolve—and her desperation.

  She waited to move until the door closed behind him. Dragging the dildo out, she got off the table and tossed the toys in the recycler, slamming the lid closed. She crossed to the lockers, pausing for several deep breaths.

  She fingered the thrall collar circling her neck as hatred washed over her in scalding waves. Her fictitious past was remarkably similar to her real past. Akim had arranged it that way so she could keep her story straight. The only real variation was her parents. They were very much alive and living in relative comfort after selling her to the potentate.

  Shuddering, she opened the locker and retrieved her clothes. Her parents, Akim, Thorne, even the famed Toymaker were all the same. She was a commodity to be consumed and forgotten. Disappointment twisted through her.