The Wildling

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The Wildling Page 7

by Treva Harte


  "No, Mistress. Let me tidy this room up for you. It's about as bad as I thought." She watched him scoop up a scattering of trash from the floor and then remove his vest to use for dusting off the thick dirt coating that lay on the chair.

  Salla wrinkled her nose. These were not the accommodations she was used to. Then again, neither was a night out in the bush. She looked dubiously at the coverlet on the lumpy bed a second before Primary whisked it off and began to shake it outside the half-opened window.

  Then it hit her. Primary was completely bare-chested. She certainly had seen most of him behind that vest but somehow just looking at the complete picture—the masculine pelt of hair that curled enticingly, the small, dusky pink, male nipples, the hard muscles that rippled…Salla swallowed hard.

  It made for a very delectable picture. Even if, especially if, he was still angry. She watched his movements, which were just a bit too emphatic. Yes. For some reason Primary was angry.

  Why did that make her want to provoke him more?

  "You really are a very useful sort of pet," Salla said. "An excellent attendant for a lady. You bathe her, clean her rooms—would you dress me in the morning when I wear something formal with lots of little hooks in the back?"

  Primary's jaw stiffened.

  "I attend to whatever my mistress requires. She's never worn such a thing but if she did, of course I would do what she needed."

  "Oh, yes. The wonderful Mistress Arness." Salla suddenly felt a little prickle of something ugly inside. "The paragon of womanhood according to you and my mother. What makes her so wonderful?"

  Primary's face softened from its tight lines. Salla felt another little prickle of unwanted and ugly emotion. The mysterious Arness, even in her absence, could make Primary forget his annoyance.

  "She's a wonderful mistress. She rescued me from my past life and taught me everything. She does that for others. She's firm but kind, thoughtful and patient. She cares for all her pets but she's come to depend on me. It's an honor." Primary stopped, blinked and then mumbled. "I talk too much. Mistress, the top of this coverlet is fairly clean. I suggest you don't pull the sheets and coverlet over you tonight. I can't guarantee what is underneath. Do you require anything else?"

  "What was your past life?" Salla ignored his attempts to ease away.

  "When I was a young man I was captured and sold to a pleasure house. Rented out by the night or week. I learned a great deal about the many whims wealthy females had. I learned how displeased they could become if you did not attend to them perfectly. Mistress Arness came to the house when she was younger and saw me after a particularly unpleasant punishment from a dissatisfied client." Primary swallowed. "She took every unit she had from the sale of her first capture and bought me. Took care of me until I was strong enough again to help her. I've never seen her hurt a pet under her care. When she punishes, it's because she must and I believe she grieves more than the foolish male does."

  Petty spite forgotten, Salla reached out to touch Primary. Her hand brushed against his broad male chest.

  "You were hurt? I am so sorry, Primary."

  "It was ten years ago, Mistress. The hurt is gone now." There was a slight tremor in Primary's hands as he slid his palms up and under hers.

  Salla wondered if it was an almost-caress, a need to have his hands touch hers, or the subtlest of refusals. Did he not want her to touch his bare chest? A pet couldn't say no.

  An enlightened female ought not to press a pet. Especially a pet who might be unwilling. But Salla found herself reaching as high as she could to touch Primary's jaw-line with her finger. She could feel the beginnings of stubble. Male facial hair felt different. She'd never before touched a male like this.

  "You're very attractive, Primary." Was that her voice, breathy and excited?

  "Thank you, Mistress." His voice had a catch in it, too.

  "Why were you so angry with me downstairs? And with Adan?"

  "I wouldn't presume to be angr…" His breath caught as her hand slid against one of those interesting male nipples. She rubbed it, experimentally, with her finger and watched it tighten.

  Did that mean what it did with females? Salla looked at Primary. His hands had fallen down to his sides, pressed against the wall behind him.

  "Don't fib, Primary. You were angry."

  "I was jealous."

  "Of…Arness? Adan seemed upset over her."

  "Yes. No." Primary shut his eyes as Salla teased his nipple to an ever-harder peak. "I have no right—Mistress, please stop. I can't think."

  "Pets don't think very well. So you say." Salla smiled. "But surely what I do can't make an experienced pet like yourself forget to think?"

  She felt him shiver just slightly. The room was warm. The saloon didn't run to expensive fans. So she must be making Primary shiver. How wrong of her. How provoking. How—

  "Delightful." Salla gave in to her next urge and leaned forward to lick Primary's chest. It tasted salty and…male.

  "Mistress, I am someone else's personal pet. " Primary's voice sounded almost agonized. "If you continue, I'm afraid where this will take us."

  Salla stopped short. What had she been doing? She wasn't some sensualist who gave no thought to anything but her own desires. She stared at the hand she held against Primary's chest. She felt his heart pound hard against her palm.

  She was forcing some man? Oh, my word. Hastily she took her hand away.

  "I'm bound. Mistress Arness has the monogamy leash on her personal pets and I couldn't dishonor her. " Primary swallowed. "Forgive me."

  "Has she done a formal ceremony?"

  "A what?"

  "Of course not. It's a new ceremony back in the city. A silly one, really, made to keep pets happy, I suppose. And an excuse for a party." Salla felt uncomfortable. Why was she continuing with this topic? She ought to dismiss him. But she went on anyway. "When you take on a personal pet, you dress yourself up. Then someone oils your pet to make him look his best and leads him out with a real leash to symbolize the monogamy leash he's entering. The owner accepts the leash and then there's a large party."

  "Oh. That doesn't sound so bad. It's a public acknowledgment of your pet's importance to you."

  "Yes, it is bad! It's demeaning, really. You see the leash isn't attached to a collar at his neck. It's…um…there is a collar and leash elsewhere."

  "Oh." Primary grinned suddenly and his voice turned lower. "Are you afraid that my collar and leash would slip off if I were given to you? I can assure you that it wouldn't. Not for you. Not during the ceremony. Not after. My cock would stay hard until you took care of it."

  Salla couldn't help her blush. What was the man about? Hadn't he just warned her off not two minutes ago? But now he was making her feel wet in places…

  "Easy to say. You're bound elsewhere." Salla knew she sounded distinctly cross. Maybe even sulky.

  "I needed to warn you. I needed to remind myself. You're the first female who has truly tempted me to ignore my mistress." Primary swallowed again. "There is pleasure I am allowed to give other women. Up to the limits of my leash. If that woman desires it."

  "Why should I want some limited half-pleasure?" Salla shook her hair back.

  "I would not allow my restraints to limit your pleasure, Mistress Salla." Primary spoke almost formally, but his words and the look in his eyes made her teeth clench together against the sudden rush of desire.

  "I won't, " Salla said.

  Primary blinked.

  "Not unless you want to," she added.

  "Mistress, haven't you listened? I've said as much as any male is permitted to say about his wants." Primary lowered his eyes again. "I will be happy to do as you wish, Mistress. As far as I am able."

  "Oh, stop that stupid subservience! I preferred you angry and jealous!" Salla stamped her foot. "That seemed real."

  "It's all real, Mistress." Primary raised his head. "But I think I understand what you want now."

  He lifted her up and placed her on the bed.
She looked up, seeing his arms braced on either side. My word. Those muscles were so powerful. So…male. Salla licked her lips.

  Then his mouth was on hers, his tongue tracing the path her tongue had just taken. A bold, clever tongue. One that didn't ask permission.

  Hands began to ease off her rough working clothes. Then that tongue followed the hands. Salla could feel alternate waves of heat as he touched and then cool stings of disappointment when he paused. Was he waiting her permission or trying to drive her into a frenzy? Salla wasn't sure. Soon she didn't care. She realized that if she whimpered or twitched or scratched—as if she could help what she did by now!—the pauses became less frequent, the caresses longer.

  Her legs moved more and more restlessly, her hips rising and falling. He'd done right to warn her. Primary must be some kind of sex demon, able to turn her into a mindless puppet, writhing mindlessly. Then she realized her movements weren't mindless. They did mean something, something the male above her could interpret perfectly. His head moved lower and she could feel the patterns his wet tongue made on her thighs. That tongue was pulling her into deeper and deeper delights.

  Finally his hands teased at the opening to her vagina. She tensed and relaxed as his finger brushed against her clitoris. Primary knew what to do. She needn't fear. The finger played with her swollen clitoris, providing just the right pressure. Salla sucked in a deep breath that ended with a gasp.

  At the sound, his finger slipped inside, probed. Both of them could now feel how moist and warm she was. The finger paused briefly, exploring her inside. Salla heard a moan. She thought it was hers. Perhaps it was Primary's. Her eyes opened just briefly to see the almost pained look on his face. Then she shut them again.

  When he withdrew the finger, Salla wanted to protest, but he gave her no time. His hands, swift and sure now, spread her legs, tucked them over those delightfully strong male shoulders. Salla knew she was opened for any kind of pleasure Primary chose to give her.

  His choice was direct and strong and intimate as he fastened his mouth over her opened entrance. He sucked and nibbled, licked and rubbed. The pull of his mouth pulled deep at something inside her. Salla would have screamed but for his hand, which hastily moved from other more erogenous parts of her body to clap over her mouth. Her legs tightened hard around his back instead.

  The final pull of his mouth dragged her into ferocious pleasure.

  Goddess. Goddess. Goddess. She wanted more. But if she got it she might die from the overwhelming sensation. Then, amazingly, she hit a final, breathless peak and crested to completion.

  "Ahh, mercy." The clenching unclenched at last, leaving her quite bonelessly relaxed. Her legs slid from Primary's shoulders. Her fisted hands loosened. Salla sighed. "That was wonderful."

  "Yes." Primary still looked pained, but he had a large smile on his face. "I can see you enjoyed yourself."

  "Enjoyed?" Salla thought over the word. "A bit more than that."

  His hands eased her into a more comfortable spot on the bed, then efficiently bundled her into a long, shapeless shirt that she brought for sleeping on the trail.

  "What wonderful hands you have, Primary," Salla said, sleepily. She turned to kiss the nearest one. "So relaxing. So ruthless."

  "Thank you, Mistress. Go to sleep now." She heard him shrugging on his vest. His clothing rustled. His footsteps hit the floor softly as they moved from her room.

  She had almost completely drifted off when a sudden thought hit. What pleasure had he received?

  Before she could worry over the idea, she was asleep.

  * * * * *

  "D'you think you might be ready to discuss what we're to do now, pet?" Adan grabbed him by the shoulder as Primary leaped the stairs almost two at a time.

  "No! Goddess damn it! Get out of my way!" Primary snarled and straight-armed the younger man as he ran.

  He'd been noble. He'd done the right thing. But now he had a hard-on that felt like he could fuck a roomful of females and still be ready for more.

  What was getting increasingly more likely was that if he didn't get some privacy soon, he would have to pleasure himself and not care who walked by or watched. Other pets did that. Such delights weren't to Primary's taste.

  But tonight he could make an exception.

  He hit the semi-privacy of the stables and an empty stall. Primary sank against the wall with a sigh of relief, already fumbling with his leggings. Goddess, Salla had looked so fragile—her nipples were so pink—she'd sighed when she came—she tasted…

  Primary groaned as the first spurt of his semen came shooting out. He imagined her small, curious fingers on him and felt like the insides of his balls would hollow out as he came even harder.

  Done. He'd come faster than he had since he was a young, untried male. Primary let out a sigh and rested his head against his knees.

  He imagined Salla staring at him after his performance, her eyes wide, and realized he wasn't quite as done as he'd expected. His cock rose, almost as hard as if he hadn't taken care of the issue seconds ago.

  "Perdition. What's wrong with me?"

  "You know what it is. Personally, I don't care." Adan's voice spoke from the other side of the stall. "The men have a campfire set up. We need to figure out how to rescue Arness. Soon."

  "She's the Mistress to you and all of us." Primary spoke carefully, trying to ignore his cock. Adan, curse him, was right. This was no time to turn overly male and think only of his lusts. "I'll join you in a minute."

  As soon as he was sure he wouldn't be the jest of every man in the group when he was seen in public. Primary carefully stood. Adan waited on the other side of the stall, looking irritatingly patient, with his arms crossed over his chest.

  "Now?" Adan mouthed.

  Primary gestured a suggestion that made the other man laugh.

  * * * * *

  Salla woke up, choking a bit on saloon dust but, except for her lungs, feeling quite wonderful. She realized it was dark outside and, unbidden, she thought of Primary. Primary and what they had left unfinished. The darkness reminded her how hidden and private they could be if she happened to see him.

  Not that she would torment him. She'd never do that. She was down in the saloon before she had time for second thoughts.

  The saloon boys were nuzzling against a different group of women this time. Salla decided to ignore them rather than possibly cause an uproar. She headed directly to the saloonkeeper, who was pouring out glasses of cheap white wine. Several women would have headaches in the morning.

  "My pets?" Salla asked. "Where are they?"

  Mistress Babs pointed outside. Salla saw the glow of a campfire not far away.

  "Nice looking ones," the other woman acknowledged. "Bet you don't offer to set them free, do ya."

  Salla scurried out, followed by the sound of the woman's barking laugh. She sounded as uncouth as some of the men when they lapsed into their own primitive language.

  * * * * *

  "Gimme."

  The men gobbled and chewed, all pretense at manners gone now that no woman saw them. Dinner was over in minutes. There were a few comfortable belches as the meal settled. One or two of the men scratched.

  Time for after-dinner small talk. The silence stayed comfortably intact for several minutes.

  "Arness? Huh. Whacha like?"

  "Hands." One panted a little. "Good hands."

  Yips and howls filled the air.

  "Ohyah. Mowth, too. Grrrr. Gooood mowth," Garic spoke dreamily.

  More howls of agreement reverberated.

  Primary shifted uncomfortably. Thoughts of his own mistress jumbled confusingly with that of the woman he'd recently left asleep. He felt disloyal and horny and worried all at the same time. Maybe the reversion to manspeak made him unable to control himself. Whatever the reason, his cock kept twitching at the thought of a small, well-bathed and sleepy Salla in bed.

  He sighed and scratched his balls like the rest of them. That helped a little.

&nb
sp; The other men grunted and slapped their hands on their thighs at the talk of Arness.

  Adan spoke up. "Justa woman."

  The other men moved restlessly at the comment.

  "No." Primary closed his mouth again. Too late.

  "No?" Adan asked, a little more aggressively.

  Once again Primary forgot to shut up as he snapped out a defense of his mistress. Justa woman indeed! He switched back to the civilized language of his mistress to make his point. Nothing else could catch all the nuances of a female.

  "She's…she's poetry. When you're inside Mistress Arness she is able to get every drop of pleasure from you and her both. The rest of the men here know that. Even if a pet never gets that far with her, he senses she could make sex that way for him if she wanted. That's why all of these men can't forget her, new capture. That's why no man can."

  Primary thought he heard Adan swallow hard, but wasn't sure because someone else broke in, also in civilized language.

  "I remember when she captured me. She dragged me out of the needle bush I was fool enough to jump in to hide. Then she pulled each one of those needles out herself," the man recounted. "Perdition take me, but when she was done I almost wished I'd had more to take out."

  As male amusement rumbled into laughter, Salla blinked hard against tears, and moved away unheard. She didn't want to know more.

  Salla clenched her fists. She wasn't here to try to have sex with a stupid male who thought he belonged to someone else. She was here to rescue that someone else.

  She'd plan out the rescue and when it was over she'd be done with all of them.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  "Hello, Secondary."

  Secondary was half-slouched on the windowsill, looking outside, when he saw who his visitor was and ducked his head. Then he winced.

  "Still twinges, eh?" Morgena snorted. "Idiot."

  "I am aware of my idiocy, Mistress." Secondary kept his eyes down. "Especially since I failed my mistress. I should be trying to rescue her."

 

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