Nyssa's Guardian

by Reese Gabriel

  “Probably,” the elder acknowledged. “But that won’t help you take care of her now, will it.”

  “She’s not my responsibility.” Theron stiffened.

  “The hell she isn’t!” Morax pounded the edge of the chair. Theron had never seen the man so impassioned. “My daughter is devoted to you. She worships the ground you walk on. Though she’s too damned stubborn to admit it.”

  Theron’s first impulse was denial. “If you’d seen what I have, Morax, you would sing a different tune.”

  “Bah,” he scoffed. “You are as pigheaded as she is. You are as in love with her as she is with you, though neither one of you will admit it.”

  “We shared sex, Morax. That isn’t love.”

  “It’s a damned good start. And sex isn’t just sex with primales. You know that full well.”

  “With obedients, yes. Not with fems, or whatever in blazes she is.”

  Now it was Morax’s turn to display the fury of the offended primale. “You may be younger and stronger, boy,” he pointed a still formidable finger, “but so help me, if you do not retract that statement, I will rip your heart from your chest where you sit.”

  Theron bowed his head. “I spoke wrongly.” He could feel the sting of tears behind his eyes. Curse these new emotions, bucket-loads of misery is what they were. “Please accept my apologies.”

  “Ah…by the Oath,” Morax slapped his thigh, “you always were too intense about everything. A finer primale…a finer man or officer I’ve never known. You need to lighten up, that’s all.”

  “Permission to speak freely, Sir?”

  “Yes…of course, Theron, anything.”

  “The leader of the assassins told me that Nyssa was not the only…variation on the norm. He indicated there was a program. A Project X.”

  “Yes, that is true.”

  Theron’s heart quickened. “But the natural order of society…”

  “The natural order is what it is because at one time it was decided that was how it ought to be. We live in a world designed to serve our needs. Those needs can change, Theron.”

  “I fail to see how we can need different kinds of people…”

  Morax sighed. “How do I best explain this? There is in our society a certain staleness today. We are getting stuck in a rut. And that’s not good. Things are going to happen and we have to be ready.”

  “What things?”

  “The Narthians, for one. We have beaten them back so far, but you more than anyone know their resources and determination. We primales cannot fight this war alone for much longer.”

  “You would put women on the front lines?”

  “I would have more energetic citizens. Just a few at first, to try out. New variations, as you put it. People like Nyssa, combining the best of the old types in new ways.”

  “But, Sir,” he appealed. “Think what you’re saying. Nyssa’s a human being. You can’t just try out a life to see how it will be.”

  “You are right, my son, and the universe forgive us for the trauma we have caused such a splendid creature. We made her in good faith, that is all I can say.”

  “It’s not enough, Sir.” Theron was surprised by his vehemence. There was something about Nyssa’s case that gave him a determination unlike anything else in the world.

  “You think we could do more?”

  Theron frowned. “I think you should have thought ahead, devised something, or else you should never have brought her into this world.”

  “We did think ahead, Captain. Eight years before she was conceived, as a matter of fact.”

  Theron stood hastily as Fem Dekalia entered the room. She was wearing a long green lounging robe. It was obvious she was naked underneath. “Forgive me,” he said gruffly, “I’ll make my departure.”

  “No, please stay.”

  Morax was more direct. “Sit, boy.”

  Fem Dekalia stood behind Morax, resting her slender, aging fingers on his shoulders. They made a handsome couple, he thought.

  “Aren’t you curious,” The High Councilor smiled, “as to what we did eight years before creating Nyssa?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Why, we engineered you, of course,” she laughed. “You are a genetic complement. I’d have thought you would have guessed that by now with that big primale brain of yours.”

  Theron’s stomach slipped over and under itself, and over again, forming a huge knot. “I don’t follow…that would make her my sister.”

  “Don’t even think such a horrid thing,” chastised Morax. “Nyssa has our genes, Dekalia’s and mine. Yours are different, but equally special.”

  “Nyssa was made to be your lifemate,” furnished Dekalia. “And you, Theron, represent the permanent protection you wanted us to conjure up for her. You were born to love and honor and cherish her until your dying breath.”

  “Which at the rate you’re going is coming pretty damned soon,” grumbled Morax, never one to mince words.

  “Has it never occurred to you?” Fem Dekalia pressed their case. “Why you excelled at every enterprise, every sport you engaged in with your fellow primales? Why war came to you so much more effortlessly, and every other effort of the human heart and mind?”

  “Yours really are the best genetics on the planet,” Morax affirmed. “With the possible exception of hers. You were designed with her in mind…and her for you. That’s why she responds to no one else.”

  “She responds to no one period,” he protested. “The woman is unmanageable.”

  “Then you’ll have to find a way, son. Or not. In either case, she’s yours.” He delivered the blunt truth.

  “But I don’t…” He was about to say that he didn’t want her, but that wasn’t entirely true.

  Fem Dekalia must have seen the pitiful look on his face. “Theron, you have what it takes. We know that you love her, and that she loves you. That’s what matters.”

  “How could you possibly know that?” he cried. “When I don’t know it myself?”

  “I heard it in your voices on the comm-link that first night,” said Dekalia. “When she was trying so hard to get you in trouble.”

  “And I saw it written all over you when you thought she was going to die,” said Morax.

  Theron shook his head. “This makes no sense. We’ve spent no time together. We’re the wrong genetic fit. All we do is fight…and make sex.”

  Morax grinned. “That’s all any good couple does.”

  Dekalia slapped his shoulder lightly. “Mind your tongue, Morax. If it’s any help, Theron, Morax and I will talk to her before you see her. I’m sure we can smooth the way a little.”

  And I’m sure you can’t, he grumbled to himself.

  “Absolutely,” the General concurred. “She has our blood. She’ll see the light of our wisdom.”

  Theron ran his hands through his hair. These people might be societal super overachievers, but in one way they were typical parents—totally oblivious to how willful and obstinate their child could really be.

  “You will see her tomorrow morning,” dictated Dekalia. “At ten.”

  “We will talk to her at nine and a half intervals.” Morax nodded with characteristic military precision. “It will run perfectly smoothly.”

  “Yes, Sir,” he said woodenly. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Oh, it was going to be perfect all right…a perfect disaster.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Theron was sitting in the next room when Dekalia and Morax gave Nyssa the happy news of her engagement. At least he assumed that’s what they were telling her judging by her vigorous reaction.

  “Over my fucking dead body!” the charming Nyssa could be heard to scream in conjunction with the crashing of a large glassite object against the wall.

  Morax was saying something about being reasonable. This launched her into a series of vituperative attacks against both parents. With plenty of “pleasantries” for Theron himself peppered in for good measure.

  “You’re all trying
to run my fucking life! You think I want to be chained down barefoot and collared to some primale goon? How dare you! You people don’t know me and you don’t own me. I’ve got a mind to just chuck the whole bunch of you and go back on the holo. Vonda never got treated like this! Better still, maybe I can go off and get myself captured by space pirates and sold into slavery. I bet that would make you happy, wouldn’t it?”

  Theron rose to his feet with a heavy sigh. For the first time in his life he truly understood what it meant to have a call. It didn’t mean that the job you were going to do was even remotely pleasant, or even that you had a clue how to do it—it was just that you were pretty darned sure that no one else did either and that if you didn’t at least try you’d never have a moment’s peace.

  The doors were old French style, double ones with blue curtains. He opened them together, presenting himself completely unannounced. It was Nyssa who saw him first.

  “You!” she hissed as though confronting the very devil. “I might have known you’d be skulking around my house. Who let you in?”

  “I was invited by your parents.”

  “Well, consider yourself uninvited!” She tossed her long mane of silky, pale aquamarine hair over her bare shoulder. The color was a perfect match to her eye shadow and thinly painted lipstick.

  Theron fought back a furious wave of lust. The curvy little fem was dressed as outrageously as ever—barefoot, in a tight, copper-colored brasserie-style top and a pair of tight, saucy matching shorts. She had delicious little bangs and gold hoop earrings. Tiny rings adorned her toes, along with one hooked through her navel. Her nails were a shimmery white-green that changed color with every movement.

  The fact that she was standing on a thick, purple fur rug, with a purple teardrop fur couch behind her—just right for tossing her onto or over—did little to keep his mind focused on the conversation.

  “Nyssa, that is no way to speak to your fiancé,” Morax attempted to rein her in.

  “Don’t you dare tell me how to talk.” She turned on him. “I learned just fine without you. Come to think of it, I managed twenty-seven years without both of you!”

  “Nyssa. Enough!”

  Nyssa moved to challenge Theron, but the words seemed to stick in her throat. Her split-second hesitation was all he needed to gain the upper hand, at least for this first round.

  “You will apologize to your parents,” he instructed. “And then you will kiss them goodbye.”

  Nyssa’s eyes moved left and right. Her parents were hiding their smiles. “I’m sorry,” she conceded with minimum civility to Dekalia and Morax. “But not to you, Theron, because I know this is all your fault somehow.”

  “Goodbye, dear.” Fem Dekalia kissed her daughter. “We’ll talk again in the morning.”

  “Be a good girl,” her father hugged her, “for daddy.”

  Nyssa looked a little piqued. “You’re not really going to leave me with him, are you?”

  “Why wouldn’t we?” asked Dekalia.

  “Because…because…” Nyssa faltered. “I don’t need a reason. I just don’t want him around me.”

  Morax shook his hand. “Good luck, son. You’re going to need it.”

  Dekalia hugged him. “Love,” she whispered, “conquers all…and a few good swats never hurt anything either.”

  Nyssa waited until they were gone to launch her attack. She had obviously been saving ammunition for this one. “You just humiliated me in front of my parents, do you know that? Now they think I’m your little slave girl. I’ll bet you think that too, don’t you? Sure you do, that’s why you think you can run all over the universe and never tell me a goddamn thing until I’m worried half to death.”

  “I couldn’t tell you where I was, Nyssa. I didn’t know who was after you. I had to keep a low profile until I got the bad guys.”

  “Did you?” she demanded.

  “I got the tentacles. But there’s a head somewhere I still need to go after.”

  She folded her arms across her chest, depriving him of a perfectly good view. “Just don’t expect a ‘thank you’,” she told him. “Not after everything you put me through.”

  “Put your arms down.”

  “What?”

  “Put your arms at your sides, flat.”

  “I will not!”

  He moved to spank her. The gesture alone was enough to bring her in line.

  Theron ogled his prize—heaving, unobstructed breasts, excited nipples tightening against the glittery, exotic fabric. “Good girl.” He praised her obedience, knowing how it would affect her. “I see you’ve remembered some of your training.”

  He could smell the instant release, the arousal she felt at being treated like an obedient.

  “It’s not training, sweetheart,” she bluffed, desperate to hide her vulnerability. “It’s just me, and trust me, what I’ve got, you can’t handle.”

  As if he hadn’t handled her plenty fine already.

  He stroked her cheek. “Tough little thing, aren’t you?”

  “You know it.” She winked.

  “So tell me, I’m curious. Who is it that can handle you? Would that be some of your mem friends like Jolando, or could it be you need a robot’s touch?”

  Nyssa’s eyes widened, trapped little doe that she was.

  “What’s the matter…sweetheart? Didn’t you realize I was amusing myself while waiting for you by talking with your robot?”

  “The robot lies. Its relays are faulty.”

  “They seemed in order to me.”

  Nyssa backed up, with an eye toward running. He held her fast, his hand in the waistband of her shorts.

  “Let go of me.”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you say no to me!”

  “I’ll say what I like. Take off your top, Nyssa. Or I’ll rip it off.”

  She tried to protect herself. He grabbed the material and yanked, severing it between her breasts. “Isn’t that better than strip games with a machine?” He waved the ruined top.

  She tried to squeeze her ample breasts between her fingers, blocking any access. Taking her by the wrist, he whipped her around. In a matter of seconds he had her hands tied behind her back, using the shredded top. She was cursing, but he could read her excitement, her red-hot heat. It would have been evident even to the dullest of mems, much less an aroused primale.

  There was no holding him back now. “On your knees,” he commanded. “Or I’ll kick your legs out from under you.”

  Nyssa moaned helplessly, lowering herself into the subjugation he knew she craved.

  “Use your teeth.” He pushed his zippered crotch into her face. “Take my cock out and suck it…all the way.”

  This was sheer domination and submission now.

  “Barbarian,” she spat, but she was rubbing her cheek against his erection. “Is this how you win your arguments with females?”

  “No, Nyssa…” he breathed her liquid surrender, “only with you.”

  “Mmmm…” she groaned, indicating that he had said the right thing.

  “Do a good job, sweetheart, or I’ll have your robot beat your ass while I watch.”

  Hungrily she bit down on the zipper. The sound was electric, ripping through the air as she tugged it down, parting the halves of his gray leather civilian pants. After just a few inches, his cock took its opportunity, and burst through the opening. He was still sheathed by the gray mesh underwear. Nyssa tried to pull the waistband down over him, but he was too big.

  She looked up at him, whimpering. Smiling in pure primale triumph he took out his cock for her. “Would the little fem like a treat?”

  “I’m half primale,” she reminded, though at the moment she didn’t seem very masterful.

  “Very well,” he shrugged, “if you feel your genetics are being compromised…”

  “No, don’t.” Nyssa devoured him before he could stuff his cock away.

  He chuckled, pulling her back by the hair to slow her down a little. “Easy, baby.
We have plenty of time.”

  “Yes, Theron.” She moved in reverence this time, like a penitent on her knees to a god rather than a starving little kitten. A single lick along the side of his dick to the very tip, and then along the bottom. She was playing the perfect obedient, though he had a feeling if he hung in there with her, over time, she’d teach him a trick or two.

  For now Theron decided to teach her something new, a little secret that he had kept from her up to now. Primales could not only expand their cocks by their own will, they could raise veins close to the surface. Not just one underneath, but two, as well as many smaller ones, delicately crisscrossing the smooth surface.

  “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered in awe.

  He had to laugh, stroking her silky, artistic hair, the latest product of her whims. “I’m not anything, angel, you’re what’s beautiful. I dreamed of you constantly while I was gone.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed. There was no stopping her from taking him all the way this time. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he helped her absorb his inches. Careful not to swell too much, he found his place in the warm cocoon of her mouth.

  A vise clamped on his heart. He could not imagine another mouth ever again. Only this one, so capable of sucking and sassing and arguing. He loved all three equally, that was the funny part.

  “Did you service your robot like this, you naughty little minx?”

  She nodded, as much as she was able.

  “I’ll bet you did,” he growled lightly, enjoying the silkiness of her tongue, the sweet, gentle suction along the contours of his aching cock. “But robots with attached dildos can’t keep you honest like I can. They can’t tell you if you’re doing it right. They can’t punish you for mistakes.”

  The bound Nyssa applied herself even more diligently, indicating that she wanted to please. Such a perfect little prize. Naked in her place at his feet, her perfect breasts proffered, nipples hard as bullets, fragrant sex, hot…and waiting.

  “Mmm…I can tell you’ve been practicing. Not any humans I hope?”

  Her eyes angled high, flickered back and forth for “no”. The acknowledgement of his own primacy heated his blood another notch. They might well never be able to work out an accord outside the bedroom, but in the sexual realm, things worked just fine.