The Wildling

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The Wildling Page 6

by Treva Harte


  “He understands just fine.” Nara sounded blissful. “Here. Let’s see to you.”

  Nara was her dearest friend. They’d always known everything about each other, including what they found sensual. When they couldn't afford to buy a pleasure pet, they'd helped each other out in several sweaty, satisfying sessions. So when Nara’s fingers began to pinch her nipples, Tanja could feel them tighten hard, erotically. When Nara began to stroke her clitoris, Tanja knew she got wetter yet. Tanja's breathing sped up as she stroked Nara's neck. Nara knew ways to make her edgy.

  But being aware that Four was watching her as she and Nara fondled each other, hearing him pant as she shuddered, drove Tanja over the edge. When Nara sleeked her hands over and under Tanja's thighs, close to Four's own restrained thighs, Four moaned.

  Nara sighed, happily.

  "That feels so good against my clit," Nara said. "Moan again, pet."

  The next moan was loud and long. A split second later, Nara moaned, too. Four tensed. Goddess, he hadn't come yet. That was when Tanja knew she'd go insane if she waited one moment more. She needed the feel of that cock well inside her.

  “I have to, Nara! I have to!” Tanja impaled herself on a hard, very impatient cock. “Oh, Four!”

  * * * * *

  Salla woke to hear Primary's shout and then what sounded like a small roar and clanging downstairs. She decided not to give herself time to wonder how she reached the bed from her bathtub. She preferred to hurry and see what emergency had hit.

  By the time she had scrambled into her clothes, she heard her mother's voice downstairs and the clamor gradually subsiding. By the time she got downstairs, Morgena was conferring with Dorinda. No one else—other than her mother's ever-present Garic, of course—was in sight.

  Salla cleared her throat. Morgena looked up.

  "Ah. Dinner. Yes. I'm sure it's ready. We'll join you in a bit." Morgena's voice was dismissive.

  But Salla wasn't a pet to be dismissed.

  "What's happened?"

  "There's been a bushwhacking. Perdition. I'd hoped we'd cleaned out the last nests of those viperous scum, but that's an impossible task. It's been so long, though, that I never thought to insist on some guards for Mistress Arness." Morgena turned to Dorinda. "Bring me my bullwhip and the darts. My walking boots, too."

  "You can't go with the rescue party!" Dorinda protested. "When is the last time you've been in the bush?"

  "Ten years. Maybe fifteen." Morgena scowled. "What difference does it make? Someone has to lead them. Primary is a cursedly good pet, but they need a woman."

  "I'll go," Salla offered. "Not that a woman is absolutely necessary, I'm sure."

  The two older women looked stunned.

  "I may not have been in the bush for fifteen years, but that's more than you've been, girl," Morgena said. "Of what use would you be?"

  "Perhaps none. But you said you needed a woman. I'm that. I'm also young, strong and perfectly capable of walking long distances. I did that to get back to the ranch this week." Not that she had the faintest idea how one rescued anyone from bushwhackers or led males or anything else. But she wasn't going to have her mother going.

  "Primary asked if Adan might be part of the rescue party," Dorinda said.

  "Ridiculous!" Morgena paused and looked at Dorinda.

  "They'd get to know each other better." Dorinda smiled, a bit slyly.

  Salla had the feeling they didn't mean Primary and this other person. But she had no idea why the two women were looking so smug.

  "He might run away." Morgena sounded considering, despite her words.

  "Who do we have on the ranch who is strong enough and clever enough to watch him constantly with Primary and Mistress Arness gone? You have too many other duties. He says he won't escape."

  Morgena snorted.

  "He never said that before," Dorinda persisted.

  "Goddess help poor Arness! What a motley group I've assembled to help her." Morgena studied her daughter without much favor. "A girl with no more out-country sense than a city kitten and a half-wild pet who longs to escape."

  "I'll manage. If I don't, Primary will see to us." Salla had no idea why she was sure of that, but she saw some tension ease from her mother's face.

  "True enough. Primary is almost female sometimes with his abilities. Arness picked wisely with that one at least. Then again, Arness is an exceptional woman in all ways. I hope we can rescue her." Her decision made, Morgena began to walk toward the door. "I'll go tell Primary who the leader is for this expedition. I'll tell him to select pets Arness has brought to the ranch. They'll be the most eager to help. Go get ready, girl. If you leave now, you may get a few hours on the trail before sundown."

  Salla thought of her dinner but knew enough not to say anything aloud.

  Instead, after Morgena left, Salla turned to Dorinda.

  "Who is Mistress Arness?"

  Whoever she was, Morgena spoke of her far more admiringly than she did her own daughter. Rescuing her must be a coup that even her mother would acknowledge. Salla suddenly realized she wanted to prove to her mother she was worthy. She had for a long time.

  * * * * *

  “Goddess! He still hasn’t come?” Nara yawned, waking up from her sleep as Tanja and Four gave a particularly violent shaking to the huge bed. “His tongue alone wore me out. All that groaning and panting and licking. Why don’t you just rest? You must have come at least three times so far.”

  Nara was wrong. Tanja had already come four times.

  “I think they used special staying oil on his cock.” Tanja spoke as coherently as she could.

  . Tanja rubbed her own breasts, both for her pleasure and to watch Four’s face as she did. His delight was hers, but his exhaustion was becoming hers too.

  He had to come. She wanted him to come. Her climaxes had been good, very, very good, but she wanted still more. Having one with Four would be the best.

  Oh. Besides, she needed his sperm. She'd almost forgotten why she was here.

  “Goddess. I always thought staying oil was a myth.” Nara raised herself on one elbow, absently beginning to masturbate as she watched. “But if any place would have the real thing, this ranch would. Oh my. The pet looks like he’ll die if he can’t come soon. Oh well, if he's going to take that long, I'm using the vibrator.”

  Four could hear his heart hammer, his breath rasp. The other female was talking—he couldn’t try to understand now. All he could attend to was the softness of the first woman, the grip she had on his cock, the feel of her rubbing up and down on his length.

  When he'd entered the room the ranch women had rubbed something on his cock. When it hardened, feeling randy but strangely numb, the group tied him up. While he was helpless they'd laughed and told him to be ready for anything.

  Four had thought he was going to be tortured. Tortured with sex.

  The Miss Triss bent down and kissed him again with her tickling tongue. He whimpered into her mouth.

  He'd been right. This was torture. But now he wanted the torture to go on. He didn't care if he did die from it. He wanted—he wanted—

  He heard the other woman making those broken sounds that meant satisfaction. Four wanted to make satisfied man sounds. He had a feeling his howls would reach throughout the ranch.

  “Four, you’re so close!” he heard the woman over him coax. “Please. Please.”

  Please. He must please her. He had seen her gasp and groan and cry over him. He had pleased her. He had to please—

  Please. Please. Please.

  His balls were drawn up so tight against him he wondered if they were still there. He couldn’t breath anymore.

  “Pliss!” he screamed, pulling himself up, feeling his restraints bite into his wrists and ankles. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

  Nothing but the feel of hot cum spewing up and out, the initial relief turning into coursing joy. This was worth everything. What others had whispered to him, what he hadn’t understood before, all became
clear. He was born for this. She'd claimed him and he was meant to service his female. His cum, his body, everything was for her.

  He heard her call out, high and excited. He felt her body tighten around him demandingly.

  Four yipped out his happiness as he poured all of his seed into his mistress.

  CHAPTER SIX

  He was a pet. Just a pet.

  "I'm trusting you to take care of my daughter as well as your mistress." Why had the patroness whispered that as they left? The burden of responsibility left Primary fiercely scowling.

  At least the males of the group knew their business. Even Adan walked quietly and quickly down the trail after One. Perhaps the wildling wouldn't be trouble.

  "How long will it take us?" Primary asked.

  "I-I got lost a little, but I think no more than one and a half days. Maybe two days if some can't keep up." One glanced at the slight female in the rear of the group and then looked away.

  "So close to the ranch? Perdition, they're bold." Primary scowled harder.

  "They're even closer to town," another pet in the back ventured to say.

  "I'd forgotten about the town. The mistress never has us stop there."

  "No reason for her to stop. There's no money there." The speaker laughed a little. "It's a Goddess-forsaken place. It only keeps going because of the saloon and because the patroness helps the poorest townsfolk when times get really bad."

  "How far is it to get there?" Primary glanced back at Mistress Salla, struck by an idea.

  "Another five miles at most."

  "It's on our way?"

  "Close enough." One looked puzzled. "But why stop there? We could make a few more miles before it's too dark."

  Primary glanced back in line without saying more and One blinked, then nodded. Already the mistress was lagging a little further behind with every step. They would have to stop soon and Mistress Salla would be more comfortable in a town, even a Goddess-forsaken town, than camping in the out-country.

  Surely his responsibility to Mistress Salla wouldn't harm Mistress Arness overmuch. Primary vowed they would wake up that much earlier tomorrow. Mistress Salla would be rested and ready to walk then.

  * * * * *

  Salla bit her lip to keep from groaning as she slid onto the bench at the saloon table. She might have saved herself the trouble. Primary immediately knelt before her and began to ease off her shoes. How did he know her feet felt like two massive blisters?

  "Saloon-keeper, get some hot water in a basin!" Primary snapped. "The mistress needs it. Now."

  One of the saloon boys ran off to the back of the building at the command. Meanwhile Adan strode forward.

  "Why do we wait here?" he demanded, harshly. "Your mistress needs us as soon as possible."

  "Your mistress needs to be attended to first," Primary snarled back.

  "I'm not his mistress," Salla protested. "I don't own him."

  "She's not my mistress," Adan said at the same time. "No one owns me."

  Salla's mouth hung open.

  "Mistress Salla, perhaps your pet was not properly introduced to you." Primary snatched the basin from the goggling saloon boy and placed her feet in it. The warm water, though a bit dirty, felt wonderful. "This is Adan. Your welcome home present."

  "Mama wouldn't—Oh, my word. Of course she would." Salla stared up at the ferocious looking male before her. He was almost as tall as Primary, though built on leaner lines. His white-blond hair was the epitome of all that most females would find attractive in a pet. Avoiding Adan's angry gaze, Salla looked directly in front of her…at the cloth he wore to cover his genitals.

  Well, very likely that, too, would be attractive.

  Primary, brown-haired and equally browned by the sun, grunted as he saw where she'd glanced. He turned his attention to Salla's feet.

  "Well, any female would look!" Salla protested, then clapped her hands to her mouth. Why was she explaining herself to him?

  She went back to looking at Adan's face.

  "You're very attractive, but I don't want a pet," Salla told the blond man standing before her. "I don't believe women should own men."

  "Good. Because I don't either." The ferocity didn't ease from his eyes or mouth.

  Her hearing hadn't been faulty before. She'd finally found someone in agreement with her views. Wouldn't it be just like Mama to give her a pet who believed in everything she thought? That also explained the smug looks that she and Dorinda had given each other.

  Well, if Mama thought she was somehow going to change her mind with this little surprise— "Ow! That hurts!"

  Primary's hands were a little less gentle than usual suddenly.

  "Sorry, Mistress." He sounded as if he were speaking through gritted teeth, though he didn't look up.

  "What are those bedraggled looking pets over there doing?" Salla pointed over at the bar where a few males, none of them half as attractive as her group, smiled flirtatiously at some oblivious females. Those females clearly agreed that Salla's males were better to look at.

  Then again, the women themselves were none too beautiful.

  "Trying to create some business for their owner," Primary answered. "They're saloon boys. You've heard of such things. Why do you want to know, Mistress? Are you looking for some new pets?"

  "Ohhhh. They look rather thin and unkempt for that job." Salla pulled her feet out of the water. Primary was being unnecessarily forceful in his work at the moment.

  "Obviously being a saloon boy in Desolation is not the most prestigious job. They're probably lucky the owner has enough units to feed them."

  "That's disgusting," Adan said.

  "Right. Disgusting. Poor things." Salla frowned. "I wonder how much it would cost to buy them."

  Primary got to his feet and Salla blinked at the look that crossed his face. Surely he wasn't angry!

  "Not much. Any one of us would probably be worth more than the whole lot together. Neither One or I can be put up for sale but I suppose you're free to do as you wish with the others. Do you want to trade?" Primary turned his back to her. "Yo, saloon boy! Take the water away. The mistress is done with it."

  "No, not at all. I just wondered. Perhaps I could buy them and free them. I got some units for my graduation." Salla reached out and grabbed the dirty vest of the saloon boy who had scurried forward to take the basin. "You, um—pet."

  "Miss Triss?" He couldn't speak as well as her pets.

  Not that she owned pets.

  "Would you like to be freed?"

  Eyes widening, the saloon boy backed away.

  "Free? What would they know about freedom? They've probably spent all their lives domesticated. They couldn't go back to the bush. What use would they be if they lived here and weren't owned?" Primary still sounded angry.

  "They could find out." Adan spoke up again. He looked down at Salla. For a moment he didn't look so angry. "You would free us, Mistress?"

  "That's my goal in coming back here." Salla said her plan aloud for the first time. "To put theory into practice."

  "Hey!" A loud female voice spoke up. A stout, gray-haired woman in a tattered apron walked out from behind the bar. "What do you mean, coming here and upsetting my pets? Trying to put ideas in their brains, are you?"

  "Are you speaking to me, Madam?" Salla asked, with her best Academy-taught hauteur.

  "Yeah. You. The one who has my boy there all a-twitter." She jerked a thumb toward the saloon boy who appeared to be wringing his hands at the corner of the bar. "What are you asking him questions like that for? As if he'd be able to answer! You know, we have ways to deal with sissified women like you here in the out-country. All your kind does is stir up trouble."

  Salla suddenly realized there was a large hunting knife in the woman's hand. My blessed word! She'd shed the belt that held her weapons when she sat down. One of the pets had tidied it away immediately.

  She heard what sounded like growls from both Primary and Adan. Both men moved to shield her with their bodies.
My word again! They, of course, had no weapons either. Did they intend to guard her with their bare hands?

  Salla looked wildly around. She'd read about a makeshift weapon in another remnant of the old artifacts she'd read—there it was. Just like in Shanna. An empty whiskey bottle, carelessly left on the table where she sat.

  She stood, grasped the bottle and slammed it hard on the wood. It shattered noisily, leaving a jagged edge.

  "You care to dispute my opinions with me, Madam?" Salla asked, holding the bottle like a weapon.

  The other woman looked at the two men, both of whom stepped forward, and then at the broken bottle.

  "Uh…I might've been a bit hasty. I don't want to argue."

  "No arguing? Excellent. Because I would rather buy rooms tonight for my pets and myself at your fine establishment." Salla smiled, sweetly.

  "Rooms? For pets?"

  "We'd like to be stabled with your pets, if you don't mind, Mistress Saloon Owner," Primary interrupted, though he did so with his customary obedient tone. "The mistress will want your best room, however."

  "Call me Mistress Babs." The woman smiled, showing darkened teeth. "Goddess, you're a big 'un! Loyal to your mistress, too, if a mite foolish about risking your skin. Then again, what can you expect from a pet?"

  "May I make the mistress' room ready?" Primary asked, still sounding polite, though not acknowledging her words. Salla had to admire how neatly he did it.

  "Shouldn't you be planning out what we'll do tomorrow for your mistress?" Adan interrupted this time, far less politely. "I have some thoughts on the matter if you have time for them. Pet."

  "I can do that alone. After Mistress Salla is cared for. I know my job as a pet. Better than some here. Capture."

  "If you could just show me to a room, Mistress Babs, I would, of course, be happy to have Primary's help." Salla had the distinct feeling she needed to separate the two males, though she wasn't entirely sure what was going on.

  She was almost positive she saw Adan bare his teeth in a snarl as Primary followed her up the stairs to the rented room.

  * * * * *

  "Is something the matter with you?" Salla asked as Primary shut the door behind him rather firmly. It would be too much to say he slammed it, but there was a noticeable noise when the door closed.

 

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