Surrendered

Brides of the Kindred 20

Evangeline Anderson

Surrendered

Evangeline Anderson

PUBLISHED BY:

Evangeline Anderson Books

Copyright © 2017 by Evangeline Anderson

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This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to the e-book retailer of your choice and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

*Cover content is for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted on the cover is a model*

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*Author's Warning--there is a bit of rough sex here. I don't want anyone to feel upset so I'm warning you now.

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Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Epilogue

Cougarville #3: Stone Cold Fox teaser

Also by Evangeline Anderson

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Prologue

The clear green stone glowed in the dim room. It was the width of a human palm but as the surface cleared, small but distinct figures could be seen moving across its shiny surface.

“What is this?” Sovereign Ysldred X’izith of the Hive peered into the bright green depths. “What is the stone showing me?”

“I know not, my Sovereign,” the sentient scholar-worker beside him buzzed, grooming its antennae anxiously. “I know only that the E’lo stones will sometimes show scenes important to their owners—though why it is important is for you, my Sovereign, to decide.”

“I thought the Druvian E’lo stones were only meant to be useful for instant transportation around the universe,” Sovereign X’izith snapped impatiently.

“Regretfully, the transport stones we took are not yet functional,” the scholar-worker said apologetically. “But as you can see, my Sovereign, the seer stone appears to be functioning. It may give us an insight into the Kindred’s plans and motivations if we keep watching.”

“Maybe…” Sovereign X’izith rubbed at his empty eye socket irritably. He had been half blinded and maimed in a recent battle with one of the damned Kindred who had also stolen the female he had designated as his Breeding Queen. Concentrating on the tiny figures in the green E’lo stone with his one remaining compound eye made his head ache.

Still, the stone, which had been stolen from an upcoming sale of Druvian artifacts in the Toloth System, might provide a window into his enemy’s mind and movements. Taking it and the E’lo transport stones had been a risk but one which would hopefully pay off in the end.

The Hive had moved from their spot in the Blind to the arid, freezing mountains of Mars with the Kindred being none the wiser. There, the underground burrow the workers were constructing grew larger every day. Hive slaves that pumped oxygen, which the humans needed, had been put in place as well as the larger glow-bugs which generated heat and radiance. Soon X'izith would be ready to start abducting females from the small blue and white planet called Earth and implanting them with grubs.

But there the Hive had hit a snag. Though the smaller scouts—the ones no larger than Earth sized insects—had been able to get past Earth’s atmosphere to collect samples and data from the Earth females X'izith intended to take, the protective energy net the Kindred had placed around the planet kept out larger scouts and space craft.

Somehow X'izith knew he had to find a way around the energy net—a way to get to the females he needed to implant with both common and royal grubs that the Hive might survive and thrive and spread to conquer the entire rest of the universe.

That was where the E’lo stones came in—maybe they would provide a clue as to what the Kindred were doing and when, if ever, they relaxed their vigilant watch on the Earth.

“The Nameless Ones, Gods of Nothing, grant it shall be,” X'izith muttered to himself, bending over the glowing green stone again. “Show me my enemy’s plan,” he said, though he did not know if the stone could hear or obey him.

In its green depths, he saw the figure of a tall Kindred male—at least, X'izith thought he was Kindred. He had strangely mismatched eyes—one blue and one green. Glowing sparks like pinpricks of flame danced in each, seeming to betoken some hidden power. He was taller than the average Kindred—over seven standard feet—and his shoulders and arms were thick with muscle. X'izith could clearly see his physical power because he was fighting the green, scaly-skinned Horvath which was dragging him along at the end of a pain leash.

“Let me go, you bastard! I swear by the Seven Hells I’ll roast you alive!”

“Come,” the Horvath grunted, yanking on the leash which no doubt sent a charge of agony through his massive prisoner’s frame. “There izz no point in rezzisting. You are a zzlave and will be zzold no matter how you zztruggle.”

He appeared to be dragging the Kindred through a lavishly decorated hall. On one side of the hall a group of women dressed in severely cut suits were sitting. Their eyes were wide with surprise as the slaver struggled with his captive. On the other side was a display of precious stones arranged on one table. Some were as big as a fist while others were as tiny as a fingernail and they ranged in color from brilliant green to deep blue to vibrant purple.

With a start, X'izith recognized the Toloth auction house where his workers had gone to steal the E’lo stones in the first place.

“What is this?” he hissed. “Why does the stone simply show me its origin? This is useless! It shows the place it came from—nothing to do with the Kindred leaders and their plans!”

“My Sovereign…” The scholar-worker who had recommended stealing the stones in the first place had begun to groom its antennae nervously, almost compulsively. “Mayhap if we just keep watching…”

“No!” X'izith turned petulantly from the stone and limped heavily to a nearby fungus cluster growing from the wall of his new room. He sank onto it and reached with his three remaining arms to massage the aching, twisted mass of scar tissue that marred his abdomen and wrapped tight around the base of his breeding barb.

Even if he could get his claws on an Earth female suitable for implantation, he wasn’t certain that he had the strength to breed her just now. The very act of using his barb was certain to be tremendously painful which meant he would have to make each breeding count.

“Where are you, my Breeding Queen?” he muttered to himself, envisioning an Earth female with just the right DNA to carry a brood of royal grubs. “Where are you and how can I get to you?”

He would have to find a way. Even if the E’lo stones they had stolen were useless, he would have to find a way to get the perfect female and fly her back to his new base on Mars. Then and only then would the future of the Hive be secured.

The Nameless Ones grant it shall be so, he told himself wearily. No matter what happened, he would never give up. Not until the survival of his species was assured.

The Kindred and the humans alike would feel the cold shadow of the Hive spreading over their lands before he drew his last breath—Sovereign X'izith swore it.

And he never broke his word.

Chapter One

“There—all is in redinezz. You are perfectly dizzplayed for sale.” Greed’lik stood back and nodded approvingly at his handiwork.

“So you say,” Commander Thornx of the Kindred Elite Espionage Corps growled. “But I feel like a fool.”

“You are drezzed as all the other males zzlaves are.” Greed’lik’s long, forked tongue slithered out to swipe over one slitted yellow eyeball. The lizard-like humanoid was Thorn’s inside man on this job—posing as a slaver for the upcoming silent auction.

And the slave he was going to sell? Well, that would be Thorn himself.

Thorn didn’t like working with the slippery bastard—Horvaths weren’t known for their trustworthiness, only their avarice. But he’d not been able to find anyone else who had an in with the auction slave suppliers so he had to put his trust in the slimy alien whether he liked it or not.

And right now, he most definitely did not—Bad enough he had to go undercover and allow himself to be sold as a slave without looking like this.

He looked down at himself with a frown, taking in the ridiculous get-up Greed’lik had insisted was appropriate for the slave auction. He was bare chested, which didn’t bother him in the least, but the trousers he’d been forced to wear were tight black leather that molded itself to his long legs. They wouldn’t have been so different from the flight leathers that most Kindred wore when piloting except these particular trousers were missing a critical piece—namely the entire crotch.

Thorn grimaced when he looked at the way his shaft was completely on display. He supposed it made sense—the Mistresses who came to bid on male slaves at the elite Toloth action were buying a body-slave who would serve a sexual function as well as a protective one—they wanted to see what they were getting. Still, since they didn’t believe in allowing males to penetrate females on Yonnie Six, where most of the Mistresses were from, it didn’t seem like it would matter what size his endowment was. Maybe it was a matter of pride to have a slave with a large cock.

As it happened, Thorn had no problems in that area. Like all Kindred, he was extremely well endowed. But that didn’t mean he wanted his equipment hanging out in the open for all to see!

There was even a thick strap of black leather knotted around the base of his shaft. It wasn’t too tight right now but it would give him great difficulties if his cock should harden. The strap was placed in such a way that blood could rush into his organ but would not be able to escape again.

If Thorn allowed himself to become aroused, he would be stuck with a very large and prominent hard-on. A hard-on which he would be unable to take care of himself due to the fact that his hands were tied behind his back with another strap—this one made of unbreakable leather-steel.

The strap around his shaft didn’t worry him too much, though—he couldn’t imagine anything about this situation what would get him hard. In fact, quite the opposite. Though he had taken this assignment voluntarily, he didn’t like it. He was not, by nature, submissive. He didn’t fear bending his knee to a female or feel shame at pretending to be a slave, but he wasn’t exactly looking forward to it either.

You don’t have to like it, a little voice in his head reminded him. You just have to do it.

True enough, Thorn acknowledged. Arranging to have himself sold as a body-slave to one of the Sacred Seven, the Mistresses of Yonnie Six who held the keys to the Library of All Knowledge, was an important mission—possibly the most important of his entire life.

For within the Library was information about the Hive—a race of insectile alien beings that were known to be ravenous and tireless in their conquest of other races. And now the Hive had set their sights on Earth, the small blue and green planet the Kindred were currently protecting.

Of course, it would have been much easier if the Kindred could simply have asked for the information. Unfortunately, the Mistresses of Yonnie Six considered males inferior and refused to deal with them. So there had been no choice—someone had to go undercover as a slave and, knowing the gravity of the situation, Thorn had volunteered.

If he failed in his mission and was unable to gain access to that knowledge, the Kindred, as well as the entire human race would be doomed. So it didn’t matter what ridiculous outfit he had to wear or what he had to do, he must be bought by Mistress Neh’sanna—one of the Sacred Seven who were protectors and curators of the Library. And once in her service, he must do whatever it took to gain her trust until he could get access to the knowledge of the Hive. Only then could the Kindred know definitively how to defeat the hungry hoard of insectile aliens coming after them.

Reminding himself of the gravity of his mission helped settle him some.

Take it easy, he told himself. Even though it feels strange and new, this is no different from any other undercover assignment. You’ve been through torture before and never lost your cool.

It was true. He flexed his shoulders, as well as the leather strap that bound his hands would let him. The skin of his upper back was still tight and scarred from the fire whip that had been used on him in one of his other missions. And the blood snails of Tantor Prime…well, they didn’t bear thinking about. But through every form of torture, Thorn had held true and strong and had kept his iron control.

He had to be in control of himself—being half Enfuego, bad things happened if he lost it. His mind tried to take him back to that time, so many years ago, before he had learned to master himself. He had lost it then and there had been tragic consequences…

No—don’t think of that, Thorn commanded himself. Think of the mission. As soon as Mistress Neh’sanna bought him, he would be halfway to his goal. He knew there was a ceremony coming up very soon at the Library of All Knowledge. He had to be with her at that time so he could use her to gain access and then…

“Do you think you’ll be chosen?” whispered a low voice, interrupting his train of thought.

Thorn turned his head to see the slave standing on the auction block beside him. He was a tall male, though not so tall as Thorn, with long, dark tresses unlike Thorn’s own short brown hair. He too was dressed in the tight black trousers with no crotch but his phallus was already prominently erect.

Though he was speaking to Thorn, he was looking anxiously at the vast, rounded double doors that stood at the end of the auction room. The doors where the prospective Mistresses would enter in just a moment. They would bid on the males who were displayed on the circular stage in the center of the opulent gold-draped room, taking only the finest specimens.

“I don’t know if I will be chosen,” Thorn said neutrally. “Do you think you will?”

“I pray so.”

The male’s words surprised Thorn almost as much as the fervent, hopeful look on his face.

“You…do?” Thorn frowned. “You want to be a slave, then?”

“Would I be here if I didn’t? Would any of us?” the other male demanded, nodding at the dozen or so others displayed on the circular stage.

“But…” Thorn shook his head in some confusion. “Are you saying you—and everyone else in this room—are here voluntarily? That you want to be a slave to one of the Yonnite Mistresses?”

“Of course we do,” the other male snapped, frowning anxiously as he continued looking at the double doors. “The Yonnites are renowned for their dominance of males who wish to serve.”

“I’ve heard they’re renowned for their cruelty,” Thorn returned dryly. “I wouldn’t be too eager to be owned by one if I were you.”

Indeed, he was going into this situation expecting to be tortured in ways that rivaled everything he’d thus far been through during his long career in espionage. The Mistresses of Yonnie Six weren’t exactly known for their tender mercy to the males they took as slaves. When they weren’t sexually tormenting them, they used pain collars to stimulate their nerves to fiery agony. Oh no, this wasn’t going to be an easy mission—not that he couldn’t handle it. He could handle anything, he told himself confidently.

But the other male was giving him a scornful look.

“Why arrange to have yourself sold here at auction if you don’t want to serve a Mistress?” he demanded, frowning.

“Arrange to have myself sold?” Thorn raised an eyebrow at him.

“Of course,” the other male said impatiently.

“Why would I do such a thing?”

“For the same reason any of us did.” The male shrugged irritably. “For a change—a chance at a new life—a life you truly want.” He sighed. “I had a successful business on Te’kar Prime but the pressure of it was killing me. I sold it and came here hoping for a fresh start—a new existence serving instead of being served. I imagine most of the males here have a similar story.”

“Really?” Thorn muttered.

“Yes, really,” the other male said. He looked longingly at the door. “When do you think they’ll come in? Surely the sale of the Druvian artifacts must be done by now. It’s past time for the auction, don’t you think?”

Thorn didn’t answer him. Instead, he frowned down at Greed’lik who stood at the side of the round platform licking his eyeballs with his long, forked tongue.

The Horvath bastard hadn’t told him the slaves on sale were here voluntarily. In fact, he’d made a great show of hustling Thorn in past the Mistresses earlier while Thorn resisted as much as possible, shouting angrily that he refused to be a slave—that he was a free male and he would kill the scaly green slaver who had dared to capture him.

This had all been done on Greed’lik’s advice—a little show for Thorn’s soon-to-be Mistress’s benefit. According to the intelligence gathered by the Kindred, Mistress Neh’sanna took on only the biggest, the strongest, and the fiercest slaves.

Thorn had hoped that by catching her attention early with the angry display he and Greed’lik put on, he would make an impression on her.

“Zzhe will not be able to put you from her mind,” the Horvath had promised. “When the zzilent auction startzz, she will bid only on you, Commander Thornx.”

A show of defiance had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time but now the male beside him was telling him that the other slaves wanted to be here. Could that be right?

Thorn looked around at the other males on display. Almost all of them looked nervous or anxious but now he saw what he had missed earlier—their faces were also filled with a painful kind of hope. They didn’t fear a future under the rule of a Yonnite Six Mistress—they longed for it.

How strange! How could any male long to submit that way? He remembered the thick black strap-on phallus he’d seen Mistress Neh’sanna wearing in the holo Commander Sylvan had shown him before he had accepted this task. He hoped he wouldn’t have to endure penetration with that beast during his mission, though if he did, he would count it just another form of torture. But how could any male long for that? Long to spread his thighs and allow his Mistress…

His thoughts broke off when the attendant standing at the tall double doors that led into the slave auction space blew a single, high blast on a marrow-horn. The sweet, silvery note seemed to echo against the high ceiling and all the males shifted, getting into position for the entrance of the Mistresses.

Thorn saw most of them strike poses to better display their bulging muscles. The male beside him swept his long black hair over one shoulder as anxiously as any female getting ready for her first public ball.

Pathetic. Thorn simply stood there and waited. Though his hands were tied behind his back, his pose was relaxed yet alert.

Soon enough he saw her. He’d gotten only a blurred impression before but now he had to admit, she was a beautiful woman. Petite yet perfectly formed with lush curves, Mistress Neh’sanna came striding confidently through the double doors looking like she owned the place.

She was wearing a pair of tight white trousers and a flowing white shirt to match, open to reveal just a hint of cleavage. A black corset cinched her waist, emphasizing the fullness of her breasts and hips. It matched the black boots with impossibly high heels she wore.

Thorn found that he couldn’t stop looking at her. The holo Commander Sylvan had showed him didn’t do her justice. She had creamy skin and large, dark eyes fringed thickly with long black lashes. Her face was exquisite—like a doll’s face made by a master craftsmen, from her delicate nose to her full red lips. A waterfall of wavy black hair fell to the small of her back, swishing with her confident strides. Thorn’s hands, still tied behind his back with the unbreakable leather-steel bands, itched to touch those silky strands.

Stop it, he told himself harshly. She might look beautiful but she’s cruel, like all the Yonnite Mistresses. She’s as deadly as the blood snails they used on you on Tantor Prime.

He lifted his gaze and ignored her even as he saw the males around him trying their best to get her attention.

Mistress Neh’sanna would come to him. He had seen the wide-eyed looks of all the Mistresses as Greed’lik led him struggling and shouting into the auction room. Though he hadn’t gotten a very good look at Neh’sanna’s reaction to their little show, he knew she had seen him. He had made an impression and she was said to enjoy a challenge—she would come.

* * * * *

Neh’sa lifted her chin as she strolled into the grand auction hall. It was decorated in a most gaudy fashion with every spare inch gilded or draped in gold cloth, but she didn’t care about the décor. What she was here for was to find her next project—a male she could train to be a true, whole-hearted submissive.

It should have been a good day. She had already purchased some of the rare Druvian E’lo stones for her collection and the seller had promised they would be shipped to her in short order. Also, the choices at the silent slave auction were said to be uncommonly fine. But despite all that, there was a cloud on Neh’sa’s heart. There always was on the day she had to let one of her well-trained submissives go.

Lo’im. She sighed her latest submissive’s name to herself sadly. She’d had him for a year—she had bought him at this very auction an entire cycle ago. Because the slaves sold here were willing and eager to serve, it was the best place to find new submissives. And Lo’im had been one of the best she had ever trained.

Neh’sa only took on one male at a time and she was very particular about who she chose to train. The male she chose had to be a perfect physical specimen –both large and strong because he would be charged with protecting his Mistress’s life as well as serving her every whim. The ideal submissive must also be willing and eager to please—a male who longed to devote his life to one female alone and to serve her until his dying breath. He would be owned by her, body and soul, and he must have no shame or reservations about it.

Lo’im had been such a submissive—one eager to live and die for the right Mistress. Neh’sa had matched him with the perfect owner—Lady Tandy, a young woman of the upper class of Yonnie Six who had never owned a body-slave of her own before. She was quiet and shy but sweet—not a sadist like many Yonnite Mistresses who pushed the button on their slave’s pain collar the minute any little thing displeased them.

Neh’sa refused to sell to those kinds of women—the sadists or the jaded, rich snobs who only wanted one of her well trained submissives—“Neh’sa’s boys” as they were called—as a status symbol.

In the same way she took care what males she chose to train, she also took care which Mistresses they went to. And she made the women who got her trainees sign life-long contracts promising never to sell them and never to use pain collars or other agony-causing devices.

That was not to say that pain had no place in the training and maintaining of a male submissive. Neh’sa was no stranger to the whip, the crop, the flogger, and the cane. But there was a time and a place for such things—they must be used judiciously and in the proper way.

True devotion and submission came through love and loving punishment, not hatred or sadism or the bored and petulant application of the pain collar. True submission had to be earned.

Neh’sa loved all of her submissives in her way, though she never allowed her emotions to carry her too far. After all, she had only a single cycle with each one before he must be given to another so there was no point in losing her heart. Once, long ago, she had made that mistake and the pain she still felt when she remembered that time had been her reward.

It was better to train slaves for other Mistresses and not allow herself to get emotionally attached. Though she would miss Lo’im, she would be proud to give him to his new Mistress during the Devotion Ceremony later. The two of them would make an excellent couple.

Still musing over Lo’im and Lady Tandy, she strolled around the broad, circular stage, looking over the slaves for sale.

There were no more than twelve males assembled on the stage this time—a smaller number than the year before. Well, no matter—all she needed was one as long as he was the right one. But so far none of them was catching her eye, though many were trying to.

She saw how they posed, putting their muscular bodies on display, begging to be chosen. They kept their eyes cast down, barely daring to look at her modestly from under their lids as she passed them, making her way in a circle around the round auction stage. They were all prime physical specimens, their muscles bulging, their cocks long and hard between their spread thighs. Even the smallest of them was on the large side—the better to bring honor to a Mistress who wished to display only the finest male as her body-slave.

Neh’sa stalked around the stage, taking in the view, considering. At last she came to stop in front of the huge, wild-looking male who had been dragged in by the Horvath slaver, right through the artifact sale earlier. The way he had been shouting and struggling had really disrupted things, making a very disagreeable scene.

Now, however, the huge male was silent. Since the Horvath slaver who had brought him in was too busy licking his own eyeballs with a forked tongue to notice her, Neh’sa took a moment to study the slave.

He was by far the biggest male there. Though even the smaller slaves dwarfed her own petite frame, this male made her feel positively tiny, even in the high heeled black boots she was wearing which added six inches of height to her diminutive five foot two inch frame. Neh’sa estimated him at easily over seven feet tall with heavy musculature to match his impressive height.

The male saw her looking at him and didn’t look away or cast his eyes down modestly as the rest of the slaves were doing. Instead he stared at her almost insolently, as if daring her to buy him. He had direct eyes that were strangely mismatched—one bright green and the other deep blue. Both had bright motes dancing in their depths that reminded Neh’sa of sparks flying up from a fire. Dark stubble covered his strong jaw, giving him a rakish look and there was a defiant set to his impossibly broad shoulders that spelled trouble.

Neh’sa frowned. True, he was a fine physical specimen—possibly the finest she’d ever seen despite the strange eyes—but there was no place in her life for a rebellious male who had no wish to be owned.

Still, she couldn’t seem to look away. And as the slave didn’t drop his gaze either, they appeared to be caught in a staring match. Liquid black eyes warred with mismatched green and blue and neither appeared willing to concede defeat.

As Neh’sa watched, another perspective Mistress approached the auction stage.

“Oh this is a nice one,” she cooed looking up at the tall, defiant slave. “And so feisty too—look at how he dares to make eye contact with his betters! I like a little spice in a male.”

“Would my lady wish to take a closer look?” one of the auction attendants asked solicitously. He was dressed in a long, deep purple robe and curly-toed golden shoes as all the attendants were. “A more detailed inspection can easily be arranged.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I would like to have a better look,” the other Mistress said.

She had bright pink hair teased into a puffball around her narrow features and she wore a dress of the same shade, making her brilliantly monochromatic. Neh’sa knew her by sight – it was Lady Fauntleroy, an empty headed social butterfly who cared more about the latest trends than the state of her slaves’ health. She pitied the large male if he was bought by this particular Mistress.

The auction attendant extended a small step ladder from the top of the stage and held out a hand for Lady Fauntleroy who accepted it eagerly. She climbed up onto the auction platform and began to circle the tall slave in a predatory way.

“My my, such a fine specimen! But what’s this?” She looked down at the slave’s massive phallus which was still completely flaccid. “How is it that all the other slaves are excited to be here and you’re not my dear?” she asked the slave who did not deign to answer. Instead he kept his eyes locked with Neh’sa’s, completely ignoring the other Mistress even when she began to paw his body.

Neh’sa watched as Lady Fauntleroy seized the male’s shaft in a none-too-gentle grip and began to stroke. But though she rubbed vigorously up and down his considerable length, his phallus never even twitched.

“What’s wrong with this one?” Lady Fauntleroy demanded of the auction attendant. “Is his equipment not working? It appears to be broken. I can’t have a slave who is unable to achieve an erection – it would be a great shame and I would never be received in the right social circles again.”

“I’m so sorry my lady,” the auction attendant apologized distractedly. “I’m certain he was checked before we allowed him into the auction. I don’t know why he will not rouse to your touch.”

“I don’t know either,” Lady Fauntleroy said with a petulant jerk of her puffy pink hair. “I’m certain it’s not because he doesn’t find me desirable. I’ve never had a slave yet that didn’t want me – not that they can have me. Of course I don’t allow any sort of penetration but still a working phallus is a must in any body- slave. For display purposes only, you understand.”

“Of course my lady.” The auction attendant bowed his head respectfully as she exited the stage in a huff.

Through it all, the slave had remained completely still, not even twitching when Lady Fauntleroy had manhandled the most sensitive part of his anatomy. It was the strangest thing but Neh’sa had the feeling he had willed himself not to rise to the other Mistress’s touch—as though he had kept his body from reacting to the intimate stroking by the power of his mind alone—a thing she had never known a male slave to be capable of.

“I see you didn’t care for Lady Fauntleroy’s methods,” she said, surprising herself by speaking to him.

A low growl rumbled up from his deep chest.

“Is that her name? Nearly as ridiculous as her hair.”

Neh’sa privately agreed but she frowned at him reprovingly.

“You must never speak of a Mistress that way—it’s disrespectful.”

“Why should I respect her?” the massive slave shot back. “I don’t even know her.”

“Knowing her or not wouldn’t make a bit of difference if she bought you and put a pain collar on you,” Neh’sa pointed out, which was exactly what someone like Lady Fauntleroy would do.

“I don’t give a good Goddess-damn about her or her pain collar,” the slave rumbled. “Pain doesn’t bother me.”

Somehow, Neh’sa knew he wasn’t just boasting. Any male who could control his body’s reaction to pleasure could certainly control pain the same way. This slave would not be easily touched by anything—and such a male would be entirely impossible to train. She ought to turn and go this minute and never spare him another glance.

Instead, she ascended the steps the auction attendant had lowered for Lady Fauntleroy and came to stand before the massive slave.

Even in her highest heels she had to look up at him. In turn, he looked down at her, meeting her gaze unwaveringly.

“Hello Mistress,” he growled sarcastically. “Did you come up to examine the merchandise like your little friend did earlier?”

“Lady Fauntleroy is not my friend,” Neh’sa said quietly. “In fact, I quite despise her.”

Her words seemed to surprise him because his mismatched eyes widened, then narrowed.

“So why did you come up then?”

“I don’t know,” Neh’sa said honestly. “Perhaps to get a better look at those extraordinary eyes of yours. Are you Kindred?”

The slave frowned and shrugged his shoulders grudgingly.

“Part Kindred,” he agreed gruffly.

“Interesting.” Neh’sa nodded thoughtfully. “And what’s the other part?”

“None of your Goddess-damned business,” he growled and added, “Mistress,” with elaborate politeness.

Neh’sa frowned and began to walk around him in a circle, examining him.

“If you were mine, slave, you’d pay for your insolence.”

“Why don’t you buy me then, Mistress?” he taunted. “Buy me and punish me?”

“It seems you’ve already endured punishment—quite a lot of it.” There were marks on his broad back, just between his shoulder blades. They looked like burns but they had the shape and configuration of whip strokes. Strange.

Lightly, Neh’sa ran her fingertips over the scars. And though the massive slave hadn’t so much as twitched when Lady Fauntleroy had been yanking on his shaft, now he flinched from Neh’sa’s gentle caress like an animal expecting a blow.

He’s back shy—and no wonder, Neh’sa thought, withdrawing her hand. It looks like someone really worked him over.

Despite his insolence she felt a surge of pity for the big Kindred and a stab of fury at whoever had mistreated him so. He might have had the makings of a good submissive once. Often it was the angriest and most dominant Alpha males who most needed the emotional relief of giving up control to a firm but loving Mistress.

But this slave—this half-Kindred and half-whatever he was—had been ruined by mistreatment. It looked to Neh’sa like he had been tortured and not just physically. She could feel the pain inside him. Earning his trust and healing the raw, open wounds in his soul would be the work of a lifetime—not a single cycle which was all she had to offer.

“I’m sorry,” she said, walking around to face him again and looking up into those lovely, mismatched eyes. “Whoever did that to you should be punished themselves—there is no excuse for mistreating a slave so.”

A look of surprise passed rapidly over his sharp features but then his face hardened.

“It doesn’t matter. I told you—pain doesn’t bother me.”

“I think it does,” Neh’sa said quietly. Reaching up, she cupped his hard jaw which was bristly with stubble. It prickled her fingertips but the skin underneath felt soft, vulnerable. “I think it bothers you a great deal.”

She wasn’t talking about physical pain and from the startled look on the big Kindred’s face, he understood that.

“I…you…” For once he seemed to be at a loss for words. Looking into his eyes, Neh’sa saw that the sparks were flying faster, almost like a fire about to ignite. She wondered what the other part of his heritage was. But maybe it was best not to know.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” she murmured, looking up at the massive Kindred. She allowed her hand to trail down from his cheek, stroking lightly over the strong cords of his throat to the broad planes of his chest. “Beautiful on the outside…but broken on the inside.” She knew it was true—she could feel his brokenness—his pain.

Her words seemed to do something to him. He shivered under her hand, again reminding her of an animal that expected a beating. For just a moment his mismatched eyes were completely defenseless.

“I…I am perfectly fine,” he said at last, in a strangled voice.

“No…” Neh’sa sighed regretfully and allowed her hand to trail down to rest on one lean, muscular hip. Gods, he truly was a beautiful specimen! It was too bad he was too damaged to work with. “No, I’m afraid you’re not.”

“You…you can’t know that. You just met me.”

His deep voice had a husky, strangled sound to it and when Neh’sa allowed her eyes to drift down, she saw why.

Though Lady Fauntleroy’s stroking and fondling of his shaft had failed to arouse the Kindred slave, her own light touch seemed to have had some effect. More than some, actually—his shaft was now fully erect. It rose from between his muscular thighs like a club of flesh, the broad head angry and red and tipped with a clear droplet of his desire.

Neh’sa had the sudden urge to dip her head and lap away the small pearl of need she saw beading at the slit of his cock. It was an impulse she might have given way to if she owned a slave, though very rarely. But she would never let such an impulse carry her away with one she hadn’t even bid on.

And I’m not going to bid on him either, she told herself firmly. There was something about the big Kindred—something that got under her skin in a way she couldn’t explain. Standing this close to him, she could smell a warm, spicy male musk that must be his natural scent. It was heady—intoxicating in a way that seemed somehow dangerous.

Time to get away.

Reluctantly, she let her hand drop from his hip and stepped back from him. She turned to descend the steps and leave the stage.

“Wait!” His deep voice called her back. “Why would you talk that way to me? Why would you say…say what you said?”

Neh’sa turned to face him once more.

“I’m just telling you why I can’t buy you,” she said simply. “Why I can’t train you, as much as I’d like to. I need a whole slave—one who wants with all his heart to serve his Mistress. Not a rebellious one with a troubled past. I’m sorry.”

“But—” he began, his eyes widening.

“I’m sorry,” Neh’sa repeated “I don’t have the time or the means to heal you.”

Not for you—he’s not for you, she told herself firmly. She simply couldn’t take the giant Kindred slave—he was too hurt inside—too damaged.

Though it tore at her heart to do it, she turned and walked away.

Chapter Two

Thorn couldn’t understand her effect on him. What was it about her touch that had awaked the fire inside him?

And for him, that wasn’t just a romantic phrase or a euphemism for desire. Being half Enfuego—or Pyro as his people called themselves—he literally had a fire inside him—one he had worked for years to smother.

He hadn’t had a flame-up in more years than he cared to count now. Even under the direst torture or the most blatant seduction, he was able to remain hard and cold—impervious to both pain and desire.

But now…

With just a touch of her hand she woke me.

He looked down at himself, at the hard shaft throbbing between his thighs. When was the last time a female had had such an effect on him?

Never, Thorn thought. Indeed, he worked hard to keep his libido in check—it, like all strong emotions, was tied inextricably to the fire inside which meant it was dangerous to allow himself to become too aroused. Though he was able to rouse himself to perform with a female if the situation called for it, he was also able to hold that part of himself back—the dangerous part—the deadly part. The last time it had gotten loose…

No! Thorn pushed the old, bad memory away. There was no point in rehashing the past—there was no way to change it and anyway, he had to concentrate on his future and the future of the entire Kindred race.

And right now that future was literally walking away.

If Lady Neh’sanna didn’t buy him, he would never gain access to the Library of All Knowledge and if he didn’t gain access, he would never get the all-important information on how to defeat the Hive.

Realization hit him—he had completely misplayed this situation. He’d believed that she would be attracted to a challenge—a disobedient slave she could whip and punish to her heart’s content. But that wasn’t what Neh’sanna wanted at all.

“I’m sorry,” she’d said. “I don’t have the time or the means to heal you.”

Which was ridiculous, of course—he didn’t need healing. There was nothing broken about him—she’d only thought so because she’d seen the marks of the fire whip on his back. And as he had told her, pain didn’t bother him. Hell, he practically endured torture for a living—it was part of the job when you worked in espionage.

You know what’s a bigger part of the job? whispered a little voice in his head. Getting into position to do what needs to be done in the first place. And right now you’re fucking that up royally.

He wondered if the diminutive Mistress would choose another slave instead of him but she didn’t even glance at the rest of the males on display. Instead, she headed for the exit door of the auction hall, pushed through it and was gone.

If he didn’t do something quickly, his chance of getting into the Library of All Knowledge was going to be gone with her.

Quickly, he descended the steps, leaving the auction stage.

“Wait! Stop, slave!” one of the auction attendants called, seeing him go. “You are not free to leave until the bidding is complete.”

Thorn didn’t bother to answer. Though he still had his hands tied behind his back with the reinforced leather-steel bands, he was by no means helpless. When a guard tried to stop him, he kicked out, catching the male in the throat with the heel of one bare foot. The guard crumpled in a heap to the ground but Thorn barely saw him. All he knew was that he had to get to Lady Neh’sanna and change her mind before it was too late.

* * * * *

Neh’sa felt her eyes sting with tears for some reason as she left the auction. Why had the big Kindred affected her so strongly? Why did she wish even now that she could go back and bid on him?

Maybe it was his pain that called to her. Neh’sa wasn’t full blooded Yonnite any more than he was full blooded Kindred. Her mother’s people had come from Lylas, a planet in the Trilba system. Due to a chemical in the atmosphere there, the population were extremely empathetic, feeling the emotions of others keenly.

Neh’sa was only part Lylasian so she didn’t feel as much as a true native of the Empath Planet, or the Feeler and Healer world, as it was sometimes called, would have. But she felt enough to perceive and sometimes to heal the pain of others—it was part of what made her a good Mistress. And there was so much pain inside the big Kindred—some of it fresh but most of it buried under layers of self-concealment.

It would take immense strength to face such pain, to unearth it and work through it in order to become a good submissive. And though the Kindred slave had been massive and physically strong, Neh’sa didn’t think he had the kind of inner strength needed to face that deep turmoil—almost no one would have.

The unexpected tears made her vision blurry and she wobbled on her six inch heels. They made an excellent showing in the auction room but they weren’t so good for the diamond-cut razor gravel strewed in the parking area.

The gravel was supposed to deter thieves, though apparently it hadn’t worked—one of the attendants had confided to her that some of the precious Druvian E’lo stones had been stolen just before the auction.

At any rate, she needed to be careful—a fall into the ultra-sharp gravel would mean some nasty lacerations. The demonically sharp rocks would cut right through clothing and flesh to flay anyone unlucky enough to land on them to the bone.

Frowning, Neh’sa looked for her small but luxuriously appointed ship. Where had her driver-droid parked it? Most Mistresses on Yonnie Six kept several body-slaves at a time and used one as a pilot but Neh’sa preferred to have just one slave and devote her time completely to proper training. Anyone could hire a driver—but not everyone could get a submissive who would be loyal unto death. That was much more important than learning to fly a ship.

At last she spotted her ship, parked at the far end of the lot. Damn that droid—she needed to look into his programming! With an aggravated sigh, she quickened her pace, her boots crunching on the razor gravel in staccato irritation.

And that was when her ankle turned and the thin, stiletto heel of her boot caught on a piece of gravel.

Neh’sa gave a little shriek as the long, thin heel snapped in half. Before she knew it, she was falling face first into the pointed, deadly rocks. She put out her hands to stop her fall, well aware that her palms would be shredded. Still, better her hands than her face. And if—

The sound of running footsteps behind her cut off her thought. And then a broad, scarred back was between her and the gravel.

With a gasp, Neh’sa caught herself against the big body that had appeared to cushion her fall. She found herself dazed but unharmed, draped across the bare back of the huge Kindred slave.

“What…how…?” Slowly, she levered herself up and off of him. He was kneeling on the ground before her, his arms still bound behind his back, his face turned towards her.

“Mistress,” he said hoarsely. “Are you all right?”

“I…I think so.” She was still hanging onto him with one hand but now she let go, balancing awkwardly because of her broken heel.

He straightened from his crouching position, though he was still kneeling in the sharp gravel, and looked at her.

“How did you know I would fall?” Neh’sa asked, wondering if his mixed blood gave him some kind of clairvoyance.

“I didn’t,” he said simply. “I came to ask you to give me another chance.”

Neh’sa raised an eyebrow at him.

“Another chance?”

“I was rude back there in the auction hall. Disrespectful.” He bowed his head. “For that I ask forgiveness.”

Neh’sa sighed. “It wasn’t your incivility that caused me to pass you over, slave.”

“Thorn,” he said. “My name is Thorn…Mistress.”

“Very well, Thorn, then.” She shook her head. “But as I said, it wasn’t your rudeness but your pain and turmoil that made me decide not to bid on you.”

“If this is about the scars on my back—” he began.

“Those are only part of it and I think you know it.” Neh’sa frowned, looking him over. “Such self-deceit only makes your pain worse.”

“Pain doesn’t bother me,” he insisted. “Just look at me and you’ll know it’s true.”

Neh’sa did. He was cut everywhere from the razor gravel. It had shredded the knees of his tight black leather trousers and sliced into the skin of his broad, bare shoulders when he had knelt to bear the brunt of her fall. There was even a small slice high on one cheekbone where his face must have pressed against the murderously sharp rocks. And as for his feet, well, his bare soles were bloody from running through the sharp stuff. But though he had to be in severe pain, his face didn’t show it a bit.

Immediately her mind kicked into Mistress mode and she felt responsible for him.

This is awful! I have to get him home and heal him! Those wounds might become infected otherwise. I can’t have a slave under my care—

Suddenly she realized what she was thinking. She couldn’t do this, could she? Couldn’t take on the big Kindred as a submissive when she’d just been telling herself all the reasons having him as her new slave wouldn’t work.

But the look in those mismatched eyes tore at her heart. He was staring at her steadily, waiting for her decision. He had already borne great physical pain for her and allowed himself to be wounded for her sake and she hadn’t even bought him yet.

“Please, Mistress,” he said quietly. “Give me a chance. Train me—use me however you see fit. Only don’t leave me behind.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be a slave? That was what you were shouting when the Horvath slaver dragged you through the artifacts sale,” she remarked. “What changed your mind?”

“You did, Mistress,” he said hoarsely. “Your touch…” He swallowed hard, the Adam’s apple in his throat moving almost convulsively. “Your touch stirred me as the touch of no other female ever has.” He looked at her appealingly. “Please…take me.”

“Well…” Neh’sa could feel her resolve faltering even though she knew it wasn’t a good idea. But there was just something about him—something she couldn’t say no to a second time.

She looked at the big Kindred seriously.

“If I take you it will be on one condition,” she said, raising one perfectly manicured finger to make her point.

“Anything,” he agreed quickly. “Anything at all, Mistress.”

“Honesty,” Neh’sa told him. “I want you to be completely honest—both with me and with yourself.”

He took a deep breath and seemed to pale a little. Then, finally he nodded.

“Agreed,” he said hoarsely.

“There can be no lying. And you’ll have to be strong enough to face your pain—I think you know what I mean,” Neh’sa said sternly.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “But…I’ll try to understand.”

“I won’t keep you if you lie to me,” Neh’sa said sharply. “I don’t care how much I have to pay for you, I’ll turn you out if I catch you in an untruth. I’ve done it before.”

He nodded once, slowly. “I understand.”

“All right.” She sighed. “I’ll probably regret this but let’s go back to the auction house so I can bid on you and win you.” She frowned. “If we can find a way to get there. My heel is broken and your feet—”

“Are fine,” he finished for her quickly. “I’ll get us both there if you could just untie me?” He motioned to the leather-steel thongs that were lashed around his wrists, holding his large hands in place behind his back. “Damn things are unbreakable or I could have caught you in my arms instead of with my back.”

“It was good of you to sacrifice yourself for me,” Neh’sa said as she worked on the knots. Luckily years of bondage training stood her in good stead. There was almost no knot she couldn’t untie and the leather-steel thongs proved no different.

Thorn looked at her speculatively, rubbing his newly freed wrists.

“Isn’t it what any good body-slave would do for his Mistress? Sacrifice himself?”

Neh’sa frowned. “Is that why you did it? To impress on me what a good slave you’d make?”

“No,” he said at once, frowning. “I saw that you were going to fall and I couldn’t bear the thought of your soft skin being cut to ribbons on this damn gravel. I acted instinctively.”

He rose from his kneeling position and Neh’sa saw with some alarm the damage the razor-gravel had done to him. Both knees were bloodied and streams of scarlet were trickling down his tight leather trousers. His other cuts were likewise bloody, though luckily his shaft appeared unharmed. But his feet had to be in agony.

Somehow, Thorn seemed not to mind his injuries.

“Here,” he said, reaching down to scoop her up. “Let’s go back so you can buy me.”

His motion was unexpected and Neh’sa, who had been balancing precariously on her broken heel while they talked, gave a little gasp of surprise as he lifted her high into the air. Goddess but he was so tall.

“You shouldn’t carry me,” she protested. “The added weight will cut your feet even worse than they are already!”

Thorn snorted derisively.

“What weight? You’re light as a feather, Mistress Neh’sanna.”

“I am not,” she protested as he carried her, uncomplaining, across the parking area though the razor-gravel had to be shredding his soles. “And you may call me Mistress Neh’sa if you like.”

He inclined his head gravely. “Mistress Neh’sa.”

“I normally wouldn’t allow a new submissive this much contact,” Neh’sa informed him, somewhat breathlessly.

She wished he didn’t smell so good. The bewitching male spice that seemed to emanate from him along with his immense physical size and strength made him a little overwhelming, even for a seasoned Mistress like herself. Also, his Alpha tendencies and his obvious self confidence made him unlike her usual submissives, who were typically much more subservient.

She sensed she would have to earn his respect as well as his trust to make this work and in order to do that, she had to get to know him.

“I don’t understand you,” she mused as he carried her. “Do you not feel physical pain at all? Or is it muted in you somehow?”

“I feel it.” The tone of his deep voice was somewhat grim. “I feel it as much as any other male would. I just don’t allow myself to fear it or react to it.”

Neh’sa thought of the burn and/or whip scars she’d seen on his back. He might not react to most pain, but the way Thorn had flinched from her touch there, told her that whatever had made those marks had also made a deep impression on him.

Of course, whatever it was, she would never use it on him. Using the instrument that had wounded him so badly would be one of his hard limits, she was certain—a betrayal of the trust she hoped would grow between them.

So then how was she to punish him if pain was off the table?

Other Mistresses might have thrown up their hands but Neh’sa had been working with submissives for over ten cycles—she knew her trade. There were more ways than pain to make a slave behave.

She just hoped she didn’t have to use all of them on Thorn.

Chapter Three

What in the Seven Hells do you think you’re doing? Thorn asked himself as he climbed into the plush interior of his new Mistress’s ship and settled himself on one of the blast couches in preparation for lift-off. Swearing to her you’ll never lie when every damn thing you say to her is a lie? Pretending you’ll be truthful and honest when you’re with her under false pretenses right from the beginning?

Though it had been part of his job in the past, he didn’t particularly like lying and he really didn’t like it now. It rubbed him the wrong way to swear total honestly and obedience to a female he meant ultimately to betray. Even now Greed’lik had gone to prepare a rendezvous where they would meet once he’d gotten into the Library of All Knowledge and his mission was complete.

What would Neh’sa think if she knew?

It doesn’t matter what she thinks, he told himself fiercely, looking down at his bloody knees. And it doesn’t matter what you have to do to get the information about the Hive. The fate of the Kindred and the Earth depend on it. So get over your distaste and just do whatever you Goddess-damned have to in order to get this mission done!

The hum of the engines made him look up from his contemplation of his shredded knees. The damn razor-gravel had really done a number on him. Of course, Kindred healed fast but that didn’t mean getting his skin nearly ripped off his body in places was fun. Still, he’d lived through worse—he would survive.

I’m lucky the damn gravel didn’t get to my shaft, he thought dryly. That might have been a pain even I couldn’t ignore. But he’d carefully kept his knees together when he had slid into position to catch Neh’sa with his back. He’d had at least that much self-preservation left.

Speaking of his shaft, he’d been lucky that the knot of leather around it had been connected to the bands around his wrists which his new Mistress had untied earlier. He’d been able to slip it off along with the steel-leather thongs. Otherwise he might still be running around with a ridiculous and completely inappropriate hard-on.

Looking down at his still naked crotch, he hoped he would be given a pair of trousers without the air conditioning when they reached her estate on Yonnie Six.

“Are you settled?” Her low, feminine voice broke his silent contemplation.

Thorn looked up at her—though not very far. Though he was seated and she was standing, they were still nearly eye-to-eye due to their height difference.

She’d put on a new pair of boots, he saw—these had lower heels than the others which made her even shorter. Goddess, she really was a tiny little thing. Tiny and delicate and beautiful…

Stop it! he told himself sternly.

“I’m fine,” he said harshly and cleared his throat. “I mean, yes Mistress—I’m settled.”

“Alright then let’s get you cleaned up and see what we can do about those wounds.”

She left the small luxurious cabin for a moment and came back holding a large basin of steaming water.

“Wait, I can do that,” he protested as she knelt on the floor before him and picked up a sponge.

“No, you’re my responsibility now.” She looked up at him, her large dark eyes serious. “I own you so I have to take care of you. That’s part of being a good Mistress.”

A good Mistress? Thorn stared at her uncertainly as she began to sponge the blood off his lacerated knees. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing—her touch was gentle but firm and she was very thorough. Her hands when she touched him were warm—almost hot—but it was a soothing heat. For a moment he thought he saw a pinkish glow emanating from her palms as she touched him… but that didn’t make any sense. Thorn decided he must have imagined it.

It wasn’t her apparent medical knowledge that occupied his thoughts though—it was her words and actions.

Whoever heard of a Yonnie Six female caring about the state of her slave? All the horror stories he had heard made him wonder. He had expected to be bought by a sadist, put in a pain collar, and tortured within an inch of his life, in that order.

Instead his new Mistress was kneeling before him, tending to his injuries as tenderly as a parent might tend a child. Her actions put everything he knew or thought he knew about the Yonnite culture into doubt and Thorn didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Well, that razor gravel certainly did a number on your knees and feet,” Neh’sa said, frowning. “I’m afraid these injuries are going to be challenging to heal.”

“No they won’t,” Thorn said confidently. “I only need to clean them and they’ll be fine. Kindred are fast healers.”

“Kindred and what else?” She arched one perfectly formed black eyebrow at him as she sponged gently at the sole of one foot. “You never told me the other part of your heritage.”

“That’s right, because I was too busy being a disrespectful bastard. Sorry about that, um, Mistress.”

Thorn took a deep breath wondering how she was going to take what he was about to tell her. He considered lying to her but he had already done enough of that for one day.

“My mother…” He had to stop for a moment to clear his throat—he almost never allowed himself to speak of his past aloud. “My mother,” he forced himself to continue, “was Enfuego,” he said in a low voice, watching to see her reaction.

She frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that people.”

“From the Double Nerix star system,” Thorn told her, feeling a stab of relief. “We have…control issues at times.”

“Oh?” she raised an eyebrow again. “How so?”

Thorn shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not a problem I have. Or not one I’ve had for a long time, anyway.”

She stared at him intently for a long moment and he wondered if she was guessing at the “control issues” he’d had in the past. It didn’t matter now, though, he told himself. He’d kept the fire inside him in check for years—he wasn’t going to let it out now.

When Neh’sa spoke at last, her tone was deceptively soft.

“I can tell you have very tight control over yourself, Thorn.” She finished his feet and knees and straightened up to begin bathing the lacerations on his bare shoulders and upper arms. Her touch was warm…soothing. “You’re going to have to let some of that go if we’re going to make you into a good submissive.”

“Let go of my control?” Thorn gave an incredulous bark of laughter. “Believe me, Mistress, you don’t want that.”

She eyed him sternly.

“Actually, I do.” Her eyes softened as she finished cleaning his shoulders and dipped the sponge into the steaming basin again. “Look, Thorn, I can tell the idea of losing control—of giving it up to someone else—is frightening to you. But it can also be very freeing, especially for a male wound as tightly as you seem to be. You’ll see.”

Thorn made a noncommittal noise and then sat quietly as she cupped his cheek in her hand and dabbed lightly at the cut over his cheekbone. Once more he could feel a healing kind of heat radiating from her hands…and he could feel his body reacting to her gentle touch.

It disturbed him that he couldn’t seem to stop himself from getting hard when she was near him, touching him. Goddess, she was so close—her perfect face and those lush red lips…not to mention her scent which was driving him crazy…

“I’m already giving you more control than anyone has ever had over me,” he pointed out in a slightly strangled voice as she smoothed antibiotic cream over the small wound on his cheek. “I’ve never allowed another to tend my injuries since I was a small child.”

“There’s nothing childish about giving power over your body to another,” Neh’sa told him seriously. “It takes a very strong person to allow someone else to direct your fate. You might even say it takes more strength to submit than to dominate.”

Thorn could certainly believe that was true. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wishing she would stop touching him and wishing she would never stop at the same time. He could feel the fire, buried so long within him, flaring to life with each soft stroke of her small hands. Gods how he wished she would touch him lower! But that would mean giving up even more control because he was reasonably certain he wasn’t going to be allowed to touch her back.

He wondered how it would be to sit back and let her stroke him without touching or kissing or stroking her in return. The thought gave him an uncomfortable feeling—his natural male dominance rose up in him, making him want to take control of the situation, even in his imagination. But he wouldn’t be able to do that, Thorn reminded himself. He was going to have to get used to letting someone else—letting Neh’sa—call the shots, at least until he got what he needed from her.

From the time he had left his home planet at the age of eighteen cycles he had been in control of his own fate. But now, at least for a little while, his fate was in the hands of another.

Thorn frowned. Though he had told himself and others that he wasn’t worried about submitting to a female, he’d been thinking of the submission as another form of torture to be endured. He’d envisioned vicious beatings and forced penetration—not her soft hands on his face and skin, driving him to distraction with lust.

He shifted again in his seat as her gentle touch drew feelings from him he didn’t want to have. He didn’t know how he was going to bear his new Mistress’s tender ministrations if she kept this up—torture would have been so much easier. Why didn’t she just put a pain collar on him and be done with it?

Neh’sa seemed to notice the way he was shifting in his seat. She sat back and regarded the long, thick erection rising from between his thighs with a contemplative look on her face.

“Sorry,” Thorn muttered, feeling his cheeks heat. “I can’t…seem to help it. When you touch me…”

“It’s all right. The touch of your Mistress’s hands should bring pleasure and healing as well as pain and punishment at times,” she said. “Does it bother you that your body reacts to mine? Or is it more that your reaction is so obvious, dressed as you are?”

Thorn scowled. “Both, I guess. I’m not used to…”

“Being out of control?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to it. We have a long way to go, the two of us together, Thorn.”

“When are you going to put a pain collar on me?” he burst out, unable to help asking. “Isn’t that how Mistresses on Yonnie Six control their slaves? Are we waiting until you get home to find just the right one?”

Neh’sa frowned at him.

“First of all, I never use pain collars or harmful nerve conduction devices on my submissives. It damages sensitivity and it’s unnecessarily cruel. Secondly, you have to earn your collar from me, Thorn.”

“Earn it?” He stared at her incredulously. “Why would I want to earn a collar?”

“To please your Mistress,” Neh’sa said lightly. She cupped his jaw in one hand and leaned forward to brush a soft, teasing kiss over his lips. “And don’t you want to please me, Thorn?” she murmured, sitting back on her heels to look at him.

The fire rose inside him so fast and hard he could barely breathe. Every muscle in his body tightened and his cock surged hungrily. Gods damn it, why couldn’t he control his body’s reactions around her? He wanted to grab her and crush her to him—wanted to plunder her soft mouth and strip her naked and cover her sweet body his own larger, harder frame…wanted to fill her over and over with his shaft until she moaned his name and gave herself to him completely while he spurted his seed inside her.

But no, Goddess-damn it—he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t blow his cover or take her against her will. He would simply have to work harder on controlling the raging lust she seemed to have wakened inside him along with the fire.

“Yes, Mistress,” he heard himself saying hoarsely. “Yes I…I want to please you.”

“That’s good, Thorn.” She tilted her head to one side. “I don’t know what the motes of light in your eyes are but they’re beautiful—especially when you get upset.”

If only she knew how dangerous the sparks in his mismatched eyes truly were. If only she knew what they meant—that the fire inside him was getting closer to breaking free—she wouldn’t speak of them so lightly, he was sure.

Thorn didn’t tell her. Instead he shrugged his shoulders.

“They’re part of being half Enfuego,” he muttered.

“I see. Well, I think you’re as cleaned up as I can make you for now.” She stood and picked up the basin of now pinkish water. “I’ll do a complete inspection once I get you back to my building on Yonnie Six. But before I do, I have a Devotion Ceremony to attend to.”

Thorn frowned. “A Devotion Ceremony? What’s that?”

“It’s where a submissive swears his lifelong devotion to his new Mistress. It’s something I always do when I give one of my submissives to a new owner.” She looked sad and proud at the same time. “It can be very touching, especially if the two are well matched, as I believe these are.”

“So you don’t keep the slaves you buy?” Thorn asked.

Neh’sa shook her head, her long hair brushing against her shoulders.

“No. I train them for a year and then find a good situation for them with a Mistress who can understand them and give them what they need.”

“Sounds like you’re running some kind of a fucking animal shelter,” Thorn growled. “Finding the poor stray slaves a good home.”

She frowned reprovingly.

“I prefer to think of it as more of a matchmaking service. Most Yonnites have no use for males other than as sex toys and slaves. But just because males are the subjugated sex doesn’t make them weaker or less worthy of love than females.”

“That’s very big of you,” Thorn said dryly.

“It’s just the way I see things,” Neh’sa said simply. “Though we Yonnites do not believe in allowing a male to penetrate a female as they do in most societies, a male and female can still have a deeply committed and loving relationship.”

“What—with her penetrating him?” Thorn demanded. He couldn’t help thinking again of the huge leather strap-on phallus he’d seen his new Mistress wearing in the holo Commander Sylvan had showed him of her when they had been planning this mission.

“Penetration takes a measure of trust and commitment some slaves and Mistresses never reach,” Neh’sa said quietly. “But it can be very satisfying—it can deepen a relationship immensely in both intimacy and pleasure.”

“And are you planning on penetrating me?” Thorn heard himself asking, though he knew he probably shouldn’t. “Are you going to strap on a phallus and fuck me with it, Mistress?”

Neh’sa put down the basin of water she’d been holding and came over to stand in front of him. Locking his eyes with hers, she asked him quietly,

“Do you want me to fuck you, Thorn?”

“No! No, of course not,” he growled, scowling. He lifted his chin. “But I can take it if I have to. It’s just another kind of torture.”

“Loving and consensual penetration isn’t torture. But it is both the ultimate symbol of trust and the ultimate loss of control,” she said softly, still holding his eyes. “I promise you this, Thorn—for as long as you live with me, I won’t penetrate you and fuck you until you beg me to.”

“I could promise you the same thing, Mistress,” he growled softly, eyeing her lush, curvy form. “The minute you ask me to, I’ll be happy to penetrate you—as long and as deep as you want me to.”

Neh’sa’s cheeks went pink for a moment but she didn’t look away, though her breathing sped up a bit. “You know we don’t do such things on Yonnie Six,” she said, a bit breathlessly, Thorn thought.

He snorted derisively. “And we don’t do what you’re suggesting where I’m from. So I guess we’ll never get around to it either way.”

“We may not,” she said steadily. “But I hope in time you’ll come to trust me enough that the idea of giving yourself to me completely isn’t totally repugnant to you.”

“Give myself to you?” Thorn tried to make his voice scornful but somehow it came out sounding uncertain instead.

Neh’sa didn’t answer—she just looked at him. Gazing into the endless black ocean of her lovely eyes, he tried to imagine it—tried to imagine opening himself to her, spreading his legs and losing control completely as she filled him the way he lusted to fill her.

No, he told himself. No, I could never do that willingly—never in a million cycles. If she forces me, I’ll have to take it—that’s just part of this mission. But I could never ask for it—never actually want it.

But as he watched his new Mistress walk away with the basin of water, her full hips swaying gently with the motion, he couldn’t help the surge his cock gave or stop remembering the soft brush of her lips against his.

Chapter Four

Thorn was going to be a challenge to train and no mistake, Neh’sa thought as she strapped in for landing opposite her huge new submissive. He was Alpha through and through and not likely to submit easily. Add that to the fact that he neither feared pain nor craved it the way some submissives did, and his training was likely to be extremely complicated.

Well, she loved a challenge. But before she could start with the big Kindred, she had to attend to the Devotion Ceremony which was happening within the hour at her home. The guests were probably already arriving and Maximus, her faithful but ancient butler-slave, would be hard pressed to keep up with them even with the help of the house droids. Neh’sa would have to rush to get ready and make certain everything was just perfect before the ceremony began.

As if sensing her need to hurry, the ship sped through the brilliantly lit night skies of Yonnie Six, skimming easily over the chasm which surrounded Opulex, the capital city of the planet.

Neh’sa lived on the very top floor of the Zendreth building in the center of downtown Opulex. It was a towering, octagonal structure, one thousand and one stories high and Neh’sa owned the one thousandth and first story exclusively. There were other, lesser Mistresses on the lower stories below hers and then some businesses and boutiques and finally a lovely and expensive restaurant simply called First on the bottom floor.

Neh’sa rather enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the lower stories, mainly because they never intruded into her own tranquil realm at the very top of the building. As the ship swooped through her private entrance, over the heads of the restaurant patrons, and climbed steeply towards the top of the building, Thorn gave a low whistle.

“So this is where you live? Nice.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Neh’sa smiled out the window as she watched the hover-lifts, outlined in shimmering gold and pink lights, rising and falling between floors. There were balconies on many stories with tropical flowers and vines dripping over their sides. The riot of colorful plants took advantage of the huge skylight at the top of the building which allowed sunlight to pour in during the daylight hours.

On some floors she could see Mistresses dressed in their finest attire, getting ready to go out for the night. Most of them had at least one and sometimes two or more body-slaves following behind. Alas, many still used pain collars but Neh’sa was working to stop the inhumane practice and most of her own friends had come to see that trust between a Mistress and her body-slave was much more effective in the long run than nerve-shattering bouts of pain.

“Do you own the entire building?” Thorn asked her.

Neh’sa laughed at the idea.

“Goodness, no. Some Mistresses own their own buildings and I probably could if I wanted to live further out where prices are lower. But I like being in the center of town and besides, what would I do with so much space? No, I only own the penthouse floor at the very top—the one thousand and first.”

“Oh, only the penthouse floor, hmm?” Thorn muttered dryly. “Seems like the training and sale of slaves to other Mistresses is a pretty lucrative business.”

Neh’sa lifted her chin and stared down at him, despite the fact that he was so much taller than she.

“Thorn,” she said quietly. “I hope you know that money isn’t the only reason I train submissives. And if you denigrate my chosen profession again, you will be punished.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else but finally he simply nodded and murmured, “Yes, Mistress.”

“Very good.” Neh’sa nodded. As strong an Alpha as he was, it wouldn’t do to let him start disrespecting her. And as for punishing him, well, she’d consider how best to do that later.

The ship reached the top of the building and the door to her private parking area slid open. The droid pilot settled them neatly into the snug space and they were home.

* * * * *

Neh’sa went into motion immediately. Opening the door latch, she looked back at Thorn.

“Can you walk all right? Your feet—”

“Are fine, Mistress,” he assured her. Indeed, after her gentle bathing, the skin was already beginning to heal—even faster than he’d expected. The rest of his cuts and lacerations were also knitting together extra fast. It made him wonder if there was something in the water or the ointment she’d used that had caused his body to heal so quickly. Or maybe the pink glow he’d thought he saw coming from her palms wasn’t his imagination after all…

“If you can walk then follow me,” she said briskly. “I don’t have much time for a tour right now but at least I can show you where to stay during the ceremony.”

Thorn raised an eyebrow at her.

“So I’m not invited?”

“Most certainly not.” She frowned. “I never allow a new submissive to come out at a public gathering until he’s proved himself worthy and ready for display. I’ll want you to stay out of sight during the entire ceremony—is that understood?”

Thorn had taken orders from female superiors before so he wasn’t sure why it irritated him to take them now. Maybe it was the fact that his new Mistress “owned” him in a way none of those other females ever had. But for whatever reason, he felt a sharp retort rising to his lips. With some difficulty, he swallowed it down and nodded.

“Understood. I’ll stay away.”

“Good.” She nodded. “I’m glad you’re going to be amenable. I really don’t have time to devise a suitable punishment for you right now—there’s too much to do for the ceremony. I meant to be back here hours ago.”

“I guess our little incident in the parking area of the auction house delayed you,” Thorn remarked.

“Some.” She smiled a little. “But I don’t mind.”

She led him from the parking area into a tiny antechamber and from there into a lavishly decorated but still comfortable bed chamber.

“This is my room,” she told Thorn, motioning for him to sit on a padded stool at the foot of the immense canopied bed. “You won’t normally be allowed in here but for now I think it’s the best place to keep you out of the way during the ceremony.”

Thorn grunted an agreement and was about to ask a question when she came up to him and planted the toe of one boot right between his thighs, dangerously close to his still exposed shaft which had, mercifully, finally gone down again.

“Mistress?” He looked up at her uncertainly.

“Help me with my boots,” Neh’sa commanded. “Your training begins now, Thorn. A good body slave is always willing and able to help his Mistress dress and disrobe.”

“Oh, of course,” he said, feeling stupid. The new boots she’d put on in the ship when she changed out of the ones with the broken heel were high, soft suede that went almost to her mid thigh. They were fastened with a row of small silver buttons that ran down the inside of her leg and each had to be unfastened in turn.

Thorn felt unaccountably clumsy as he did the simple task. His hands seemed to be too large for the tiny buttons and the toe of her boot kept nudging gently but noticeably against his most sensitive areas.

He wondered if Neh’sa knew what she was doing but he couldn’t tell by her expression. If she didn’t stop he was going to get hard again—hard from her fucking boot touching his shaft! It made him half angry—half aroused. What was it about this female that he couldn’t resist?

At last both boots were off and then she allowed him to help take off her tight trousers, black lace-up corset, and the flowing white shirt underneath. At last she was down to some tiny, lacy underthings that showed off her full curves to perfection.

Despite her petite stature, Mistress Neh’sa was by no means a skinny woman. In fact, she was what Thorn had heard the Earth brides on the Mothership call “plus sized” which only made her more desirable in his eyes.

He loved a female with curves—there was so much more to hold on to.

“Well, Mistress,” he said huskily when she was naked except for the brief, lacy top which showed the hard points of her nipples and the tiny pair of white lace panties which barely hid her pussy. “Should I help you take off the rest of your clothing as well?”

Neh’sa gave him a long, considering look before shaking her head.

“I think not. You want to do it too much—we’ll save it for a reward later on.”

She didn’t wait for Thorn to reply but disappeared into a large, walk-in closet. When she came out again, she was wearing a long, sheath-like dress made of tiny, sleek red feathers. The feather gown clung to the curves of her breasts and hips, molding itself to her petite but luscious body beautifully. Just in the center of the dress, right below her belly, was a high slit which clearly showed the matching red lace panties which went with it.

Thorn couldn’t help himself—his eyes were drawn to the tiny, lacy things. The material was so thin he could see the plump lips of her soft little pussy clearly and the panties were cut so low it was obvious that she was completely bare of any kind of hair.

He could even see the top of her slit which made his mouth water. Like all Kindred, he needed to taste his female. Though he supposed that technically he was Neh’sa’s male rather than the other way around, he still felt possessive of her somehow. The fire burned brighter inside him and he wanted to grab her by the hips and drag her forward until he could bury his tongue in her tight little slit to make her moan.

Neh’sa seemed to see where his gaze had landed and guess his thoughts.

“Do you want to kiss my panties, Thorn?” she asked softly. “It is tradition, you know, for body-slaves to kiss their Mistresses there during formal functions.”

Thorn licked his suddenly dry lips. “Is it?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She gave him a slow smile. “And some Mistresses carry it further and make it a nightly ritual. It shows respect.”

Kissing her panties every night, getting to press his face to her soft, sweet pussy and inhale her maddening feminine fragrance—maybe this mission wouldn’t be as bad as he’d envisioned, Thorn thought.

“Is that right, Mistress?” he murmured, looking at her with half-lidded eyes. “And what if the body-slave wants to, ah show respect to more than just his Mistress’s panties?”

“Hmm, if he wants to pay obeisance to her pussy, you mean?” Neh’sa purred softly, taking a step towards him.

“Exactly.” Thorn’s mouth watered some more. Gods, he could almost taste her salty-sweet flavor on his tongue! Could almost hear her soft moans and feel her slender fingers tugging at his hair. She might be in the dominant position but he would be the one to make her beg and plead if he could only get his mouth between her legs.

“Of course, it’s not considered strictly proper to let your slave kiss more than your panties—at least, that’s what the prudes who run most of our society would have you believe.” Neh’sa gave a soft laugh. “But if your Mistress wishes more from you than just a good-night kiss on her panties, it’s easy to tell.”

“And how…how can you tell?” Thorn asked, his voice hoarse in his own ears.

“Because she’ll tug the front of her panties down to give you better access—like this.” For just a moment she reached down and pulled at the thin, red lace panties, baring her entire pussy slit for him. Then she widened her stance, letting him look his fill.

Thorn felt his mouth go dry as he saw her ripe outer lips spreading open to reveal the tight little button of her clit. She was glistening with moisture as though this teasing little game they were playing was turning her on as much as it was him.

The sight of her open pussy coated with her honey was almost more than he could stand. His cock surged to life and he was ready to sink to his knees before her when a mechanical voice suddenly intruded.

“Mistress Neh’sa, most of the guests are assembled. Butler Maximus has asked me to alert you that all is in readiness for the ceremony to begin.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Neh’sa promised the disembodied voice which seemed to come from some kind of intercom system. “Tell Maximus to have everyone arranged and ask Lo’im and Lady Tandy to get into position by the fountain.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the voice announced and with a metallic click, it was gone.

“Very well.” Neh’sa sighed and straightened her panties again, hiding all but the very top of her slit once more. “We can continue this discussion later. Right now I need to fix my hair before I go out to officiate.”

She crossed the room quickly and settled herself before a 3-D viewer which showed her from all angles. Looking into it, she met Thorn’s eyes.

“I don’t suppose you can do hair, can you?”

“Afraid not,” he rumbled. He would have loved to bury his hands in her rich masses of dark hair—bury his face in it too and inhale her feminine fragrance—but he’d never had any formal training in arranging female hair.

Neh’sa sighed. “A pity. Lo’im could have helped me but he has to be in place for the ceremony.”

Thorn felt a stab of jealousy, though he didn’t like to admit it.

“Lo’im?”

“My last submissive. The one pledging his devotion to a new Mistress today.” For a moment her dark and lovely eyes looked sad. “Come here anyway—you can at least watch and maybe you can help me next time. A good body-slave should be able to dress his Mistress’s hair as well as she can.”

Thorn frowned and shifted on the padded leather bench uncomfortably. The sight of her beautiful, curvy body and her soft, wet pussy had made him hard again and it bothered him to walk around with his cock exposed and at full attention.

Neh’sa frowned at him sharply.

“I said come here, Thorn. Are you bucking for a punishment already? You’re not behaving like a very obedient submissive.”

A low growl that was anything but submissive rose in his throat and he stood up abruptly.

“You want me to come? Fine, I’ll come, Mistress.”

He came to stand behind her, knowing full well she could see his shaft in the viewer behind her.

Neh’sa eyes grew wide and then she nodded thoughtfully.

“Oh, I see the problem. This really bothers you, doesn’t it—being exposed?”

“No,” Thorn growled, still standing stiffly behind her.

She met his eyes in the mirror.

“I think it does. But you shouldn’t be ashamed, Thorn. You have a beautiful body and a gorgeous shaft. The fact that you’re hard is a compliment to me, not a condemnation of your self control.”

There it was again—the all important control. At the moment, Thorn wished he had more of it.

“Can I help in any way, Mistress?” he muttered, ignoring her comment. He still wanted to touch her, even though the fire inside him was burning much higher than he liked.

“Come a little closer and just watch,” she directed.

Thorn obeyed and had to stifle a gasp when she shook out her hair and the long, silky strands brushed against his bare and aching shaft. Gods, was she trying to drive him crazy?

Neh’sa gave no indication that she’d noticed how she was touching him as she went about piling her long, dark hair into a mass of loose curls at the top of her head. With a few twists and some jeweled pins she effortlessly transformed her silky tresses into an elegant up-do which left the tender nape of her neck bare.

It looked achingly kissable and Thorn wanted to lean down and press his lips to the vulnerable flesh but he knew he wouldn’t be allowed. Gods, the more he was around Neh’sa, the more he wanted her! He wondered if he would ever be allowed to touch her or taste her at all?

He fucking well hoped so or this was going to be the longest mission of his life.

“All right now,” Neh’sa said, breaking his train of thought. “Help me into my shoes and I’ll be ready to go.”

Looking around, Thorn saw a pair of high heeled black shoes with open toes and long black ribbons attached to the heels. Apparently they were supposed to fit on his Mistress’s feet and the ribbons would tie around her slender ankles.

Kneeling stiffly because of his throbbing erection, he got into position before her and slipped the first shoe onto her impossibly tiny foot. He couldn’t help noticing that from the tips of her toes to the back of her heel, her foot wasn’t as long as his hand from fingers to palm. If he did ever get the chance to touch her he would have to be careful, he decided. She was so delicate a big brute like him might break her.

“Very nicely done, Thorn,” she murmured as he finished fitting the shoes and tying the ribbons around her ankles. “We’ll make a first rate body-slave out of you yet. Now I have to go officiate at the ceremony. Help me up.”

She offered him her hand and he rose stiffly and took it to pull her to her feet.

“Well?” Neh’sa twirled in front of him. “How do I look?”

Thorn frowned. She was gorgeous in the sleek red feather dress but he didn’t like how exposed she was. He’d been told how the Mistresses of Yonnie Six often dressed to accentuate their sexual assets but he hadn’t expected it to bother him so much.

“Exposed,” he said flatly. “Are you sure you want to go out there showing so much skin?”

Neh’sa raised an eyebrow at him.

“This is the latest fashion and actually, quite a modest one for Yonnie Six, especially here in Opulex.”

Thorn couldn’t help himself. “But if other males see you—”

“The only other males here tonight will be body-slaves and I assure you, I will be quite safe around them,” Neh’sa told him.

Thorn shook his head. “You wouldn’t be safe around any male in that outfit—body-slave or not. You’re too fucking tempting, Neh’sa—I mean Mistress,” he corrected himself. “I think you’re underestimating the force of a horny male’s sex drive.”

She frowned. “What are you saying, Thorn? You think someone is going to attack me in my own home?”

“I don’t know—I hope not. But I’d feel better if I was closer to you for protection. I’m your body-slave, after all. Shouldn’t I be near enough to keep you safe?”

She shook her head. “I told you, I don’t allow untrained submissives out in public functions. Your concern is touching, Thorn, but completely unnecessary. Please just stay in my bedchamber out of sight during the ceremony.”

Thorn didn’t like it—didn’t like it one fucking bit. He had all kinds of images in his mind’s eye of out-of-control horny slaves trying to touch his new Mistress. The very thought of that—of another male’s hands on her—made the fire inside him rise almost uncontrollably.

He had no idea why he felt so possessive and protective of her—they still barely knew each other, after all. But she made his body react in a way no other female had ever done and when she touched him…Gods, when she touched him, all he wanted was for her to touch him again and never stop.

It’s nothing, he told himself uneasily. It’s just that your whole mission depends on her. If something happens to her you won’t be able to get the information you need.

As he tried to convince himself it was true, Neh’sa swept from the room, her long skirts trailing behind her, leaving him alone in the bedchamber.

Chapter Five

Well, her new Kindred body-slave was a possessive one—there was no mistaking that, Neh’sa thought as she left her bedchamber. She would have to keep on eye on him and try to keep those Alpha tendencies of his in check or there was going to be trouble the first time another body-slave tried to show her respect or make obeisance to her. Of course the notion that she might be attacked in her own home was ridiculous, but the very fact that Thorn was so eager to protect her showed he had the right instincts, even if they were somewhat overdeveloped.

Really, she shouldn’t have teased him as she had by showing him her body. She normally didn’t do that with her submissives, preferring to defer the sexual aspect of their training to a time when she had either a female body substitute or the submissive’s new prospective Mistress involved. Lady Tandy had been invaluable in her training of Lo’im and she ought to wait until she found a good match for Thorn before she started the tease and denial part of his training.

But somehow she had wanted to do it herself.

It’s just because he’s a challenging submissive—I’m the only one I can trust to do it right, she told herself. He’d overwhelm almost any other Mistress, especially a shy one like Lady Tandy.

She did her best to put the big Kindred out of her mind as she came into the center of her home. The vast, round living-space was already buzzing with activity, she was glad to see. There were house droids everywhere, trundling back and forth, serving tall flutes of fizzing pink zazanberry wine and tumblers of pale blue Varoquein spirits. Mistresses were standing around chatting with their body- slaves in tow and nibbling the expensive hors d’oeuvres Neh’sa had ordered flown in from across the planet and Maximus, her butler-slave, was bustling about making sure everyone’s glass was full.

The living space was one of the rooms placed around the skylight at the top of her building. It was decorated in lapis lazuli tiles etched in gold. A brilliant shimmer-light chandelier hung from the high ceiling like a dying star, throwing sparkling radiance over everything. There were comfortable couches and chairs around the perimeter but in the very center of the room was a deep pool filled with carnivorous Banda fish fed daily on a diet of fresh meat. The tiny fish which strobed rainbow light through their slender silver bodies were as gorgeous as they were deadly.

In the center of the pool was a small golden island just big enough to fit three people. A delicate golden-filigree bridge led to it over the pool and Neh’sa saw that Lo’im and Lady Tandy were already in position there.

Lady Tandy was gorgeous in a pale pink gown of finest Xantham silk which was diaphanous enough to show her breasts and nipples clearly. Her skirt was slit in the middle and her tiny pink panties barely covered her plump pussy mound. Across from her, Lo’im knelt submissively. His dark head was bowed and he was wearing only a pair of tight white leather trousers which molded seductively to his firm ass and muscular thighs.

Neh’sa saw with a little twinge that her old submissive’s strong throat was bare. For almost the first time since he had come to her house, Lo’im was without a collar. During the ceremony, lady Tandy would put her own collar on him. Indeed, Neh’sa saw that she was holding a small flat golden box clutched nervously in one hand. No doubt the collar she would place on Lo’im was inside.

Neh’sa permitted herself a small sigh as she looked at the lovely picture they made. It reminded her of her own first Devotion Ceremony, almost ten years ago.

If only Heloth, her first body-slave, was with her now—if only he was still alive—how different her life would be! Though she had lost him so many years ago, the old pain still throbbed in her breast and she sent a prayer heavenward that his spirit was resting in peace.

“Ah, my lady has arrived,” Maximus exclaimed upon seeing her. “Please if you would Mistresses, let us come to attention for my Lady Neh’sanna who will officiate at the Devotion Ceremony of Lady Tandy and her new body-slave, Lo’im today.”

“Thank you Maximus.” Neh’sa inclined her head gracefully and traversed the little golden bridge to stand on the island in the center of the pool with Lo’im and Lady Tandy. The two of them glanced at her nervously and she could see the eagerness in both sets of eyes. But she had trained Lo’im well, he returned his gaze submissively to his new Mistress’s little pink shoes rather than looking up into her face.

The crowd in the living area grew quiet and all eyes turned to the island where the three of them were standing. Neh’sa lifted her chin and spoke in a low but clear voice meant to carry to the very back of the room.

“Friends thank you for coming,” she said. “We are here today for the Devotion Ceremony between my own dear Lo’im and the lovely Lady Tandy.” She looked fondly at Lo’im. “From the moment I first bought Lo’im at auction, I knew he was going to be one of the best submissives I had ever trained. He is kind, gentle, obedient, and yet I know he will be fiercely protective of his new Mistress.”

There were murmurs of assent and Neh’sa could see a flush of embarrassed pleasure rising along Lo’im’s high cheekbones. Truly, he was a lovely specimen of malehood, his dark good looks well matched to Lady Tandy’s blonde beauty.

“Lady Tandy,” she continued, “is a kind and patient Mistress. Though she has never owned a body-slave before, I knew the moment I interviewed her that she would be right for Lo’im. She has promised to never beat or mistreat him and to never use the pain collar or any other form of agony nerve conduction device on him so long as they both shall live.”

Neh’sa raised her head and looked over the crowd.

“This is a promise I extract from all my perspective Mistresses, for though our society considers males the inferior sex, this does not mean they should be hurt, misused, or abused,” she said. “A well tended male will be faithful and loyal to his Mistress all of his life, so long as she treats him right.”

There were murmurs from the crowd – some of agreement and some of dissent. Neh’sa knew that not all of her guests agreed with her views on how to treat body-slaves, but she never missed an opportunity to make her feelings known on the subject. It was important that her fellow Yonnites learn to see the intrinsic value of the males who served them and stopping the use of the pain collar, which was cruel and inhumane, was one of her main goals.

When the murmurs had died down Neh’sa placed one hand on Lo’im’s broad, bare shoulder.

“Lo’im,” she said, “I give you to this woman to be your Mistress. Will you pledge her your devotion? Will you promise to honor her, love her, pleasure and serve her willingly all the days of your life?”

“I will.” Lo’im looked shyly up at his new Mistress.

“Very good,” Neh’sa said gently. “Then you may go to her.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” Lo’im bent his head respectfully to place a chaste kiss against the thin panel of Neh’sa’s panties for the last time. It was a goodbye to his old Mistress and, as he leaned forward to place a much more passionate kiss on Lady Tandy’s soft little mound, he signified his allegiance to his new lady.

Lady Tandy bit her lip and shifted her hips, an action which tugged her tiny panties even lower, baring more of her pussy slit for her new slave. It was a subtle motion and one Neh’sa doubted anyone in the crowd could see, yet it sent a clear message to Lo’im which the body-slave reacted to eagerly.

As his new Mistress’s pussy came more into view, he wrapped his strong arms around her thighs and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her plump outer lips. His tongue slipped deep into her folds, tasting her hungrily, as Lady Tandy tried desperately to hold back a moan. Her legs trembled with the pleasure Lo’im was giving her and for a moment she was forced to grip one of her new slave’s broad shoulders to keep her balance.

Neh’sa smiled to herself. Oh yes, these two were well suited. They would probably spend the entire first night of their relationship with Lo’im buried between his new Mistress’s thighs.

It made her sigh with longing and remember her own first body-slave again—remember how they had spent so many nights wrapped in each others arms, loving each other. If only Heloth had lived! But then if he had, she would be a different woman with a different life and Lo’im and Lady Tandy would never have found each other.

At last the body-slave pulled back, his full lips shiny with his lady’s juices. He licked them slowly, as though savoring her flavor and dared to look up and meet Lady Tandy’s eyes. She met his gaze, blushing and trembling, before finally turning back to Neh’sa who resumed the ceremony.

“Do you, Lady Tandy, promise to treat your new body slave with kindness and compassion befitting a true Mistress all the days of your life?” she asked.

“I will,” whispered Lady Tandy, her cheeks going pink.

“Excellent.” Neh’sa nodded. “And do you have the collar?” she inquired.

“I… I do,” Lady Tandy murmured in a trembling voice. Fumbling a bit with the ornate golden box in her hands, she finally managed with a little help from Neh’sa to open it. Inside was a beautiful black leather collar with a single, heart-shaped ruby heart hanging from the center. It would sit just in the hollow of Lo’im’s strong throat and look magnificent there, Neh’sa was sure.

With hands that shook only a little, Lady Tandy fastened collar around her new body-slave’s throat. When she was finished, he took both her small hands in his much larger ones and kissed the palms.

“My Lady,” he murmured huskily. “I shall serve you gladly all the days of my life. I am yours.”

“Oh!” Lady Tandy’s cheeks got pinker than ever but Neh’sa could tell how pleased she was. She was fairly certain the two of them were aching to be alone together – there had been sparks flying between them from the first moment they met. Hopefully the after party wouldn’t take too long so they could spend their first night as slave and Mistress in blissful privacy.

Thinking of sparks made her remember the strange and lovely golden motes that often danced in Thorn’s mismatched eyes. She lifted her gaze but caught no sight of him—good, so he was staying quietly in the bedchamber as she had told him to do. Maybe he wasn’t quite so disobedient as she’d feared.

She watched Lady Tandy and Lo’im leave the small island in the center of her pool where the Banda fish flitted back and forth, their bodies making endless rainbow patterns in the water. As she followed them, several of the Mistresses she’d invited came up and told her what a lovely ceremony it had been.

“I declare each one is more beautiful than the last,” one older Mistress told her, dabbing her eyes with a blue suede handkerchief made of hedra hide. “I do hope when the times comes you’ll be able to find just the right body-slave for my daughter, Leda.”

“It would be my pleasure, Lady Thar’nus.” Neh’sa inclined her head graciously.

“And my Tilda,” another Mistress exclaimed. “I declare that daughter of mine needs some grounding—a good, patient, practical body-slave is exactly what she needs to pull her head out of the clouds.”

“I’ll try, but as you know I only train one slave per cycle—” Neh’sa was beginning when a strident, nasal voice interrupted her words.

“What we all need is just a little break from the propaganda about pain collars.”

Lady Malisha Wraith’neck, one of the foremost Mistresses on Yonnie Six, swaggered forward with a mean little smile on her thin lips. She was a tall, thin woman with rugged bone structure which made her almost as big as a male. Her natural height plus the six inch purple heels she was wearing made her positively tower over Neh’sa. Her dress was a vivid violet a few shades lighter than her shoes, with a sharp, elongated collar which stuck out on either side of her head. It looked apt to poke someone in the eye if she wasn’t careful—and Lady Wraith’neck wasn’t one to be careful.

Neh’sa suppressed a sigh. Lady Wraith’neck was a self-confirmed sadist who enjoyed making her slaves suffer. She was normally nobody that Neh’sa would want to be involved with. Unfortunately, she was also one of the richest and most influential people in all of Opulex. Refusing to invite her to the ceremony would have had disastrous social and financial consequences, although Neh’sa had hoped that the other woman would decline when she’d dispatched the invitation.

No such luck. Lady Wraith’neck was here and she looked ready to make a scene if Neh’sa didn’t handle her delicately.

“Hello, Lady Wraith’neck,” she said in a low even voice. “How nice of you to come to the ceremony.”

“Well I wouldn’t miss it for the world my dear!” Lady Wraith’neck cooed, her eyes flashing. “Another one of your lovely little ceremonies intended to show how docile and sweet males are without their pain collars? Why, every single one is the event of the season!”

“It’s very kind of you to say so,” said Neh’sa, deliberately ignoring the other woman’s jab.

“But my question is,” Lady Wraith’neck continued, “Why does anyone want a meek and docile male? Especially when the big mean angry ones are so much more fun.”

She clapped her hands and a huge male Neh’sa had somehow missed while she was performing the ceremony came shambling into the center of the room.

They were muted gasps from all the assembled Mistresses. The new male didn’t appear to be completely humanoid. He had large sloping shoulders and arms that hung nearly to the ground, his knuckles dragging across the lapis lazuli tiles. He was also well over nine feet tall and massive everywhere which was obvious, due to the crotchless leather shorts lady Wraith’neck had dressed him in. His shaft, a long thick club of flesh with a broad purple head as big as Neh’sa’s fist, rose from between his thick thighs and bobbed as he shuffled towards them.

The slave had on the thickest pain collar Neh’sa had ever seen – at least as thick as her wrist, it encircled his corded throat in a way that looked both painful and constricting. Knowing Lady Wraith’neck, it was the latest design in agony nerve-conduction technology.

Malisha loved to be on the cutting edge of cruelty.

When Neh’sa got done taking in the slave’s huge body, her eyes moved up to his face. What she saw shocked her. Lady Wraith’neck’s new slave had only one eye, set right in the middle of his forehead. It was a muddy purple color and it stared with dull resentfulness at its owner.

“A Clopsian?” she demanded, rounding on the other Mistress. “You brought a Clopsian to my ceremony? Do you know how dangerous they are? Some males are not meant to be tamed, Lady Wraith’neck—Clopsians are barely sentient. They’re more like beasts than rational beings.”

“Please, he’s not dangerous at all! Or if he is, he’s well-controlled by this new collar I just bought. Look – see it? It doesn’t just give painful electrical shocks, it’s also a medication delivery system,” Lady Wraith’neck bragged.

Neh’sa frowned. “A what? How does it give him medication?”

“Oh, there are a row of inch-long needles implanted on the inside against his neck,” the other Mistress explained. “I can drug him to a stupor with the press of a button or excite him to a fever pitch the same way. Watch.”

She pulled out a sleek silver remote control and pressed a tiny red button on it as she pointed it at the vast Clopsian. The collar around his neck seemed to flex and at once the huge creature came to life. A low angry growl rose in his throat and his thick meaty fists clenched at his sides.

“Oh Lady Wraith’neck,” one of the other Mistresses exclaimed nervously, “Are you quite certain that safe? He’s so big!”

“Perfectly certain,” Lady Wraith’neck declared pompously. Raising her voice she addressed the monstrous male she had brought with her. “Now Yandor, come here and make a bow to our lovely hostess.” She nodded at Neh’sa.

The Clopsian didn’t move. He just glared at his Mistress, malevolent hatred filling his single muddy purple eye.

Lady Wraith’neck frowned and lifted her voice.

“Did you hear me Yandor?” she demanded. “Come here and bow to Lady Neh’sanna at once.”

She pressed another button on the remote—clearly one that had a pain function—because the huge Clopsian threw back his head and bellowed angrily. Thick fingers pawed at the pain collar around his throat and Neh’sa felt her stomach fist with anxiety.

Clopsians were little more than beasts, despite their vaguely humanoid appearance. Though mostly docile on their home planet, they could be savage if provoked. And Lady Wraith’neck was doing everything in her power to provoke this one.

Worse, the auto-shock mechanism on the collar the giant wore clearly wasn’t working. If it had been, it would have delivered massive electrical jolts to his fingertips when he tried to pull it off. Or maybe it was working and he was just too strong to be deterred by the shocks. For whatever reason, Neh’sa was sure that if he got free of his collar, blood was going to be spilled.

“Drug him—calm him!” she exclaimed to Lady Wraith’neck. Though she would never normally advocate using any kind of pain collar on a slave, the Clopsian was a dangerous exception.

But Lady Wraith’neck had a mulish expression on her long, bony face.

“No! I ordered him to bow to you and he’s Goddess-damned-well going to do it! Yandor!” she shouted, pressing the pain button over and over. “Come here and bow to Lady Neh’sa now!”

She pointed angrily at Neh’sa which only had the effect of turning the massive Clopsian’s attention away from herself and onto Neh’sa. Angrily, he lumbered forward, both long, hairy arms outstretched as though to grab her.

Neh’sa gasped and took a quick step back, nearly going into the pool with the ravenous Banda fish. Carefully, she edged around the side of the water, trying not to slip in. The Banda fish were lovely but they were capable of stripping anyone unlucky enough to land in their pool to the bone in a matter of minutes.

Of course, this wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with a dangerous male. As a Mistress, she had experience with those which would not or could not be controlled. Accordingly, there was a stunner locked in the center drawer of the organizer cube in her office. But the huge, angry Clopsian was between her and the door that led to her weapon. Also, the pool of meat eating fish was directly behind her.

It was a bad position to be in.

“Lady Wraith’neck,” she said in a voice she tried to keep from shaking. “Control your slave! Drug him now!”

Finally Lady Wraith’neck seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. As Yandor lumbered forward, his sights set on Neh’sa, his Mistress stepped quickly out of the way, pressing another button on her remote control frantically.

“Lady Wraith’neck?” Neh’sa gasped as one meaty hand made a swipe at her gown, close enough to dislodge a handful of the red, downy feathers it was made of. She was trying to get away, trying to edge slowly around the side of the pool because she was afraid if she turned and ran she would only excite the Clopsian to even greater levels of rage and violence. But if he got his hands on her…

He’ll be the end of me, she thought numbly. He’ll break me in two! His fist is bigger than my entire head!

The Clopsian snatched at her again, this time ripping her dress down the middle to let her breasts spill out of the tight red feather fabric. Her nipples immediately tightened in fear and Yandor’s eye widened as he saw them.

Neh’sa gasped and tried to duck out of the way of his next grab but one huge hand landed on her shoulder and his thick fingers wrapped around her arm. With the other hand, he fisted his huge, pulsing cock. His single eye was glued to her bare breasts and his thick-lipped mouth fell open as he grunted one word.

“FUCK…”

“What? No!” For the first time in all her years as a Mistress, Neh’sa felt herself begin to panic. She couldn’t allow herself to be penetrated by this beast! He would kill her and even if he didn’t, the shame of being publicly taken by a male…it would be the end of her. She couldn’t—

“Get your hands off her you fucking bastard!” a low, hoarse voice growled.

Neh’sa felt her heart skip a beat and she looked up just in time to see Thorn rushing through the crowd, dodging around the bewildered, frightened party-goers to confront the massive Clopsian.

As tall as he was, the single-eyed beast had a good two feet and probably several hundred pounds of muscle on her new slave but Thorn didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward and punched the other male in the jaw.

The Clopsian howled angrily dropped her arm to grab for Thorn with both hands.

“Thorn!” Neh’sa gasped, not certain what to do.

“Get back,” he shouted, sparing her a single glance over one broad shoulder as he and Yandor circled each other. “Get someplace safe—I’ll handle this big bastard.” The motes in his eyes were whirling so fast his mismatched eyes seemed to be almost glowing and there wasn’t a trace of fear on his face.

Neh’sa bit her lip and ducked out of the way, getting away from the pool and the angry Clopsian. The other guests had also backed up, making a space with the two males in the center.

This is no good, Neh’sa thought wildly. Thorn may be brave and strong but the Clopsian is huge and Lady Wraith’neck has gotten him so angry he’ll want to kill. I have to get the stunner!

She ran for her office but a collective gasp from the assembled guests made her turn to see what was happening.

Thorn was landing a volley of blows on the big, lumbering beast of a male, who was howling in anger and pain as he snatched at the Kindred.

Neh’sa’s eyes widened. She had never seen anyone move so fast—Thorn’s hands were like a blur as he punched and danced away. A red blur. She frowned—were his fists actually glowing?

Before she could get an answer to her question, Thorn landed another punch, this one squarely in the Clopsian’s single eye. As the beast howled and clutched at his face, Thorn grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around so he was facing the ornamental pool filled with Banda fish. With a strong shove, he pushed the giant face-first into the pool.

Such a massive person falling into the water should have made a huge splash but in fact, the Clopsian was so big that his head hit the golden bridge and his feet were still on the lapis lazuli tiles at the edge of the pool. So in fact, only his midsection and exposed shaft went into the brilliant aquamarine waters, causing relatively little of the liquid to slosh out.

But that small amount of exposed skin in the water was enough. The Banda fish had scattered from the strange object splashing into their pool but the moment they smelled flesh, they all came swimming towards what must have looked like a long, meaty snake dangling down into their watery home.

The Clopsian howled and thrashed as he struggled to get out of the pool. It took him less than a minute to get away from the water but that was long enough for the sharp-teethed fish to do their job.

As the giant got to his knees and then his feet, still howling, Neh’sa saw with horror that he wasn’t just wet with water. Blood gushed from between his fingers as he clutched at his now empty crotch and the remains of his once-proud shaft still floated in the pool, being devoured by the ravenous rainbow colored fish.

Clearly Lady Wraith’neck saw the damage the same time that Neh’sa did because she gave a cry and ran forward, the remote still dangling uselessly in her hand.

“My slave! My Yandor! What have you done to my Yandor!” she screeched.

“Lady Wraith’neck, please—” Neh’sa began, stepping forward.

The other Mistress rounded on her.

“You!” she spat at Neh’sa. “You did this! I brought my perfect, lovely slave to a party you invited me to and you ruined him!”

She drew back her arm and slapped Neh’sa as hard as she could, the heavy rings on her fingers making it feel more like a punch.

Neh’sa staggered back, her eyes wide. Though she’d never liked the other Mistress and she knew Lady Wraith’neck didn’t like her either, she hadn’t expected the other woman to become violent with her.

She stumbled back another step, her head ringing, and her high heel caught on the edge of the Banda pool. With a gasp she teetered backwards. She reached out a hand, trying to find something to hold onto and she saw Lady Wraith’neck reach out as well.

But the other Mistress wasn’t trying to pull her back from the edge.

Instead her hand connected with Neh’sa’s midsection and she favored Neh’sa with a cruel little smile just before and she gave a strong shove.

Goddess! Neh’sa thought wildly, tipping backwards. I’m going to die! I’ll be eaten alive right here in the middle of my own home!

“Neh’sa!” A strong hand grabbed her and pulled her roughly back from the edge.

Thorn wrapped one muscular arm around her and pulled her close, keeping her safe from both the pool and Lady Wraith’neck’s fury. Then he strode forward, bringing Neh’sa with him and pointed a finger in Lady Wraith’neck’s angry face.

“Listen Lady, and listen good” he growled at her. “I don’t usually hit females but if you ever lay a hand on Neh’sa again you’ll be picking your teeth up off the fucking floor. Understand?”

“Why…I…you…” Lady Wraith’neck clearly didn’t know what to say to his threat. “Do you know who I am, slave?” she demanded at last.

“Don’t know and don’t fucking care,” Thorn growled. “Just stay away from Neh’sa. In fact, I think it’s time you and the big idiot you brought with you get the Seven Hells out of here.”

“Thorn, no!” Neh’sa shook off his heavy arm. Throwing another Mistress out of your domicile—no matter what mischief or damage she had caused—was a snub that couldn’t be ignored. If she kicked Lady Wraith’neck out it would start a feud of epic proportions—one which might well be fatal to both her social and her business standing in Yonnite high society. “Lady Wraith’neck—Malisha—”she began.

But Lady Wraith’neck’s narrow eyes were blazing—it was clearly too late to take the dis-invitation back.

“Don’t try to stop me, I’m going,” she exclaimed loudly. “I’ll leave at once. But first I want to know who this male is that you’re allowing to kick me out of your domicile, Neh’sa!” She glared at Thorn who glared right back, meeting her eyes instead of dropping them respectfully as a proper slave would have.

“This is Thorn,” Neh’sa answered as calmly as she could although inside she felt like screaming. “He’s my new submissive. I haven’t started his training yet,” she added.

“Clearly he doesn’t need training in offering offense,” Lady Wraith’neck declared. “How dare he speak to a Mistress without being spoken to and look me in the eye as though he was my equal?”

Thorn snorted derisively.

“As if I’d want to be considered your equal. You brought a dangerous, half-wild male into Neh’sa’s home and let him run wild and nearly kill her. Only an idiot would do that.” He glared down Lady Wraith’neck who gasped and looked at Neh’sa.

“I take offense to that!” she proclaimed. “You will hear from my barrister! And I’ll tell you something else, Neh’sa—I don’t believe you’re training this male at all. I don’t think he’s your new body-slave—I think he’s your new lover.”

A muted gasp rose from the assembled crowd. All eyes were fixed on the two Mistresses—all but the single eye of Yandor. The huge Clopsian had slumped in a heap to one side of the pool and the house droids were working to bandage the stump of his once proud male-hood.

Neh’sa drew in a breath—there was only so much she could forgive. Only so far she was willing to go to avoid a feud with the other Mistress.

“What exactly are you saying to me?” she asked in a low, even voice.

“I’m saying what everyone here is thinking,” Lady Wraith’neck declared. “I’m saying you allow this male to penetrate you. To fuck you like the savage beast he is!”

There was another gasp and some voices were raised in protest but Neh’sa said not a word.

“We all know what kind of a business you run,” Lady Wraith’neck continued, warming to her subject. “We know what these little ‘Devotion ceremonies’ are really about! You’re spreading your perversion to our community—to our society! You’re—”

“That’s quite enough.” Neh’sa’s voice was soft but strong and it carried to the furthest corners of the living area. “I will not stand here and be insulted in my own domicile any longer,” she continued coolly. “Lady Wraith’neck, I am formally dis-inviting you to my home. Please collect your slave and leave.”

Then she turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Lady Wraith’neck to splutter and gasp behind her.

Chapter Six

Neh’sa kept her cool admirably considering the circumstances, Thorn thought as he watched her walk out of the living area. Despite the fact that her gown was torn, exposing her breasts and the other Mistress had offered her what was clearly the worst insult possible in Yonnite society, she kept her head up and her shoulders straight as she walked regally out of the room.

The party was breaking up, the Mistresses shuffling around nervously with their body-slaves in tow. There were shocked looks on many faces and from the whispered remarks he heard, Thorn was beginning to get the idea that what had happened was more than just a spat.

Were there going to be legal repercussions for Neh’sa to deal with? Had he made the matter worse by his intervention?

But what the hell else could I do? he asked himself. That bitch, Lady Wraith’neck, had sent her massive Clopsian on a rampage—he’d been about to rape or kill Neh’sa. And after that, Wraith’neck had slapped Neh’sa and tried to push her into the pool of flesh-eating fish.

When he’s seen the nasty intention in the cruel Mistress’s narrow eyes as she shoved Neh’sa, the fire had risen so fast and hard inside Thorn he’d actually almost flamed-up—a loss of control so extreme he hadn’t experienced it in nearly twenty cycles. He had lost it a little while he was punching the Clopsian, but though his fists had heated, the fire hadn’t actually escaped—though it had come close.

Have to get control of myself! he told himself grimly as he watched the party guests leave in bunches until only the Mistress and her body-slave who had been joined in the ceremony remained.

Well, them and the giant Clopsian. The house droids had managed to stop his bleeding and had pasted tight pressure bandages over what remained of his shaft but he had slumped into a stupor by the pool and couldn’t be revived, no matter how often the ancient male who served Neh’sa as a butler patted his cheeks and begged him to rise.

At least the blood smeared on the big body hid most of the burn marks where Thorn’s fists had landed. He hoped the male healed fast or that the marks were just singes instead of actual deep burns. It was hard to tell—the fire inside him had been very close to the surface when he fought the Clopsian.

Again he reminded himself that he had to get back some of the control he had lost the minute Neh’sa had touched him—but how?

* * * * *

Somehow Neh’sa made it to her bedchamber before she lost her calm outer demeanor and started shaking and crying.

Calm—be calm, she tried to tell herself but she couldn’t help it—the tears came out, hard and fast as bullets and she couldn’t stop them—could only let them come.

Goddess, she’d nearly died. Would have died if Thorn hadn’t disobeyed her and come running to her rescue. It was something her first beloved body-slave, Heloth would have done and for a moment Neh’sa missed her old lover so badly she felt like she was being torn in two.

If only he was here now—if only she wasn’t all alone. She had kept herself so isolated since his death, only training body-slaves for other Mistresses and never taking one for herself. She’d learned to live a lonely, loveless existence because she couldn’t bear that pain again, the pain of loss, of love gone forever.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she sat on the vast, empty bed where she slept alone every night and let the tears come. She wept for the past and for the future—the vast, lonely future she saw stretching out before her. She was thirty-three cycles old but before she knew it she would be forty-three, then fifty-three, then a hundred and three and still all alone with no one to hold her at night, no one to love her…

Stop it! she told herself sternly. Stop this maudlin display, you’re a Mistress—a dominant female who doesn’t need anyone to be happy and fulfilled but herself.

Normally that was true—Neh’sa was actually quite content with the life she’d made for herself. But sometimes—times like this when something awful happened—she just wanted someone to hold her. Did that make her weak or less in control of herself?

Neh’sa didn’t think so.

“It just makes me lonely…so lonely,” she whispered brokenly. “Goddess, I wish…” But she couldn’t even finish the thought. The sad fact was, she had better get used to loneliness—it was part of her life and nothing was going to change it.

With a sigh, she swiped at her streaming eyes with the sleeve of her ruined dress. Time to get a grip. She would take a brief, refreshing shower, change clothes, and go back out to her living area. She was pretty sure most of the guests were gone—she hoped so anyway—but Lady Tandy and Lo’im would still be there. Neh’sa was certain of that because Lady Tandy had asked her for something in strictest confidence—something only Neh’sa could provide.

Sighing again, Neh’sa got off the vast bed and went to the waterfall shower in her private bathing room. She might be lonely but she was strong. She would make it through this and persevere just as she always had before.

She had to—there was no choice.

* * * * *

At last, after watching the butler and several droids try in vain for ten minutes to get the giant Clopsian up, Thorn went to help. Mistress Wraith’neck had left in a huff ages ago, taking the remote to his pain collar with her. They couldn’t have the huge male, who might become dangerous again, lying around the domicile.

“Oh thank you, er…” The butler-slave looked at him uncertainly.

“Thorn,” Thorn supplied. “The new, uh, body-slave.” It felt funny introducing himself that way although he supposed he ought to get used to it.

“Oh, of course. I’m Maximus, Lady Neh’sanna’s butler-slave these many years. I’m very grateful for what you did—saving her from this beast and from being pushed into the Banda pool,” the other male said.

“What else could I do?” Thorn said lightly. “Couldn’t let my new Mistress be killed—it would just be right back to the auction house for me, right?”

“I suppose…” Maximus looked at him doubtfully and shook his graying head. “But for whatever reason you acted, your actions were very brave. You saved our Mistress and I will be forever grateful to you for that.”

“Thanks,” Thorn muttered, feeling uncomfortable. “What are we going to do with him when we get him up?” He nodded at the Clopsian.

“I’ll go call a transport to take him back to his Mistress,” the butler promised and trotted off, leaving Thorn with the task of lifting the huge male.

As he took the massive Clopsian under one arm and started to heave him to his feet—Goddess but the male weighed as much as a small vehicle—his new Mistress finally came out of her bedchamber.

“Neh-sa? I mean, Mistress?” he asked, studying her as she came towards him. She was wearing a silk dressing gown of deep green that made her skin look soft and creamy. Her large, dark eyes were red-rimmed and Thorn wondered if she’d been weeping. His heart fisted in his chest at the thought but he couldn’t tell if she had or not from the serene look on her face. On one cheek was a dull red mark where Lady Wraith’neck’s slap had landed but Neh’sa still carried her head high.

“Thorn,” she said in that low, feminine voice which seemed to carry a hint of steel under the velvet. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get this big bastard out of your domicile.” He gestured at the Clopsian who sagged heavily to the floor the minute Thorn let go of him. “He’s deadweight though. I can’t tell if he’s drugged or just out of it from blood loss.”

“Possibly both.” She sighed and to Thorn’s surprise, stepped forward and placed one hand on the Clopsian’s broad forehead. For a moment he thought he saw a soft pinkish glow coming from under her palm. Then the giant’s single eye fluttered open and he gave a weak grunt.

Neh’sa stepped back and nodded.

“He’ll live,” she said. “And you’re right—we need to get him back to Lady Wraith’neck or she’ll have even more to charge me with.”

“Charge you?” Thorn demanded. “How can she charge you? She’s the one who brought a fucking wild beast into your house and set it loose! He could have killed you and everyone else here!”

Just the thought of that—of how close she’d come to dying—filled him with protective rage which he swallowed down only with difficulty.

Neh’sa sighed. “I’m afraid that Yonnite society is…complicated when it comes to such matters. Technically because her slave was injured in my domicile, she can charge me and possibly bring other grievances against me as well.” She shook her head. “I’ll find out what she’s cooked up with her barrister later on, no doubt. But for now if you could please just get him out of here?”

“That’s the plan,” Thorn growled. “Your butler went to call for a transport.” The idea of the other Mistress bringing legal charges against Neh’sa still angered and frustrated him, but as much as he found himself wanting to protect her, there was nothing he could do about it.

“Thank you, Thorn,” Neh’sa said gravely. She rose and hesitated for a moment before laying a gentle hand on his cheek. “And thank you for saving me. That’s twice you’ve come to my rescue and I haven’t even owned you a whole solar day yet.”

As always, her touch made his shaft rise and harden. Gods, she was beautiful!

“It was my pleasure, Mistress,” he said gruffly. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek as well—the wounded one—tenderly in his palm. “She hit you pretty hard here—are you all right?”

“No, Thorn…” Gently but firmly she removed his hand from her face and brought it back to his side. “The first rule you must learn—a body-slave is never allowed to touch his Mistress unless she tells him to.”

Thorn frowned. “Oh, but you can touch me whenever you want?”

“Yes,” she said simply and smiled that maddening smile at him. “Don’t worry—we’ll go over the rules later when everyone is gone and I have time to do a more thorough inspection. For now, though, I need to go speak to Lady Tandy and Lo’im.”

She glided away and he watched her for a minute, his shaft throbbing, before going back to the task of heaving the heavy Clopsian to his feet and getting him out of the domicile.

At last with the help of the butler and all the house droids, the job was finally accomplished. The massive beast was deposited in a transport headed back to Lady Wraith’neck’s domicile and Neh’sa’s home was safe again.

With a sigh of relief, Thorn went to find his new Mistress. He wanted to ask her what exactly she had meant by “inspection” and what the rules about who could touch who were. But when he finally located her, in her office, she was speaking quietly and intensely with Lady Tandy alone.

Thorn stood outside the door, watching the two females through the crack, thinking that he shouldn’t eavesdrop—he should just go back to her bedchamber and wait for her there. Lo’im was nowhere to be found—it was just Neh’sa and Lady Tandy in her office so it was clearly a private conversation. But then he heard something which made him stop, watch, and listen.

“Here,” Neh’sa said, pressing something into the younger Mistress’s hand. “If you wish to let Lo’im finish inside you, you must have him take these first. They’ll alter his seed so that only female children will result if you should…”

“If I should get pregnant?” Lady Tandy’s blue eyes widened and her voice sank to a whisper. “Lady Neh’sa, are you sure it’s all right to…to want this? To want to let my body-slave penetrate me?”

“The love between a male and a female is their own business,” Neh’sa told her firmly. “As a Mistress, you must do what you feel is right for you. I’m not advising you either way—I’m only giving you the means to have what you want without fear of retribution. If you and Lo’im should make love without protection and you conceive a male child, everyone will know you didn’t go to the conception center to be artificially inseminated.”

Lady Tady bit her full lower lip.

“I do want to let him penetrate me,” she admitted softly. “I…I’ve wanted it from the first. I don’t know why I have such perverted desires.”

“Nothing consensual is perverted,” Neh’sa said, lifting her chin. “And you’re planning to penetrate him too—why is this different?”

“I don’t know…” Lady Tandy looked down at the small packet of pills Neh’sa had given her and then looked up again. “Thank you for…for understanding and not judging me. You’re the only one in Opulex I could have told my secret to.”

“I’m happy to help you, my dear.” Neh’sa pressed her hand gently. “I’m just sorry that your Devotion Ceremony was ruined by the scuffle.”

“It wasn’t ruined, honestly it wasn’t,” Lady Tandy told her earnestly. “The ceremony itself was beautiful. And what happened afterwards, well…” She gave a little laugh. “Let’s just say it’s a memory Lo’im and I will never forget.” She sighed. “I just hope Lady Wraith’neck doesn’t make things too difficult for you now.”

“Don’t worry about me—you and Lo’im just go and enjoy yourselves and have a beautiful life together.” Neh’sa smiled at her and started to rise.

Thorn, who had been watching silently, completely mesmerized by the forbidden conversation, moved hurriedly out of the way. He barely got back across the large living area to the door of the bedchamber before he heard Neh’sa calling his name.

Turning, he tried to pretend he hadn’t overheard her conversation. He kept his face blank though his mind was whirling.

“You know we don’t do that on Yonnie Six,” Neh’sa had told him when they had been speaking about penetration on her ship—specifically of him penetrating her. Well, apparently they did do that here on Yonnie Six—some of the Mistresses anyway. And it was obvious that Neh’sa was helping them do it.

Lady Wraith’ neck’s angry accusations came back to him.

“We all know what kind of business you’re running here!”

Was this what she had been talking about? But why would Neh’sa go against her society’s beliefs to do something which was not only unconventional but very probably illegal? And how did she feel about being penetrated herself?

A sudden image came to him—his petite, curvy Mistress with her long dark hair spread out on the pillow and her thighs open wide for him. He could almost see her beckoning to him, her soft folds glistening with her honey—hot and wet and perfect. He would cover her small body with his own larger, harder one and sink his shaft to the root in her tight, welcoming pussy…

“Did you hear me, Thorn?” Neh’sa’s voice drew him out of the illicit fantasy.

“Hmm?” He blinked and looked up to see her frowning.

“You need to pay better attention—a good body-slave is always attuned to his Mistress’s words,” she lectured softly. “I said it’s time for your bath and inspection.”

Chapter Seven

The bathing room was the best money could buy, Neh’sa had seen to that. There was almost nothing she liked more than a long soak so she’d made certain that the tub she had installed was almost large enough to swim in. The large size came in handy now since Thorn was so big and muscular.

Neh’sa drew a steaming bath and had him strip out of the tattered leather trousers. As he did, she observed that his wounds from the razor-gravel were almost completely healed. Even with her healing touch that was surprising. He’d told her that Kindred healed fast but this was really quite amazing. She was glad though—glad he was no longer in physical pain, even though he swore it didn’t bother him.

She hadn’t been sure at first about buying him but the big Kindred body-slave had really proved his worth, she had to admit. She’d be dead if he hadn’t saved her from both the Clopsian and the deadly Banta fish. But though he had charged to her rescue, she couldn’t allow him to have the upper hand. An Alpha body-slave was a rare thing and could be very useful—as long as the Mistress in question was strong enough to keep him in check.

I’ve got to get a handle on him now, she thought, watching as he lowered his long, muscular form into her soaking-pool tub. I have to bring him in line before he gets completely out of hand.

“Gods, this feels good,” Thorn murmured, letting himself sink down in the water. His eyes closed and he sighed in contentment.

Neh’sa couldn’t help noticing he had extraordinarily long lashes for a male. It made his hard features look vulnerable somehow when they were relaxed, as they were now.

“Do you have any hair-cleaner?” he rumbled. “Think I might have gotten some of that big bastard’s blood in my hair. Need to wash it.”

“I’ll be washing you tonight, Thorn,” Neh’sa said firmly. “Your hair and your entire body. You’re not to do a thing.”

“Huh?” His mismatched eyes flew open and he frowned. “That’s nice of you, Mistress but I really don’t need—”

“What you need or want doesn’t enter into it,” Neh’sa told him, holding his eyes with her own. “I own you now, Thorn, and I’m going to take care of you. Later on you may be allowed to wash yourself but for tonight I want to take thorough stock of you.”

His eyes hardened. “You want to catalog your new property, Mistress? That right?”

“I want to know your body as I know my own,” Neh’sa corrected him, dipping a bio-synthi sponge into the water and squeezing until it produced some warm, fresh-smelling suds. “I want to know any place you have aches or pains, any place I should pay special attention to, any problem areas. That’s all part of being a good Mistress.”

“You keep saying that,” he murmured, watching as she began to soap the flat planes of his muscular chest and the round copper disks of his nipples. “About being a good Mistress. I didn’t think there was such a thing on Yonnie Six.”

“You thought we were all like Lady Wraith’neck, did you?” Neh’sa gave him a smile and she sponged his broad shoulders.

“I guess so.” He watched in apparent bemusement as she held one of his hands in hers and soaped down his shoulder and thick bicep, then stroked over his forearm and palm. He flexed his fingers slightly and she couldn’t help noticing how much bigger his hand was than hers. Physically she was no match for him—none at all. She would have to dominate him in other ways. Well, that wouldn’t be a problem once she established her authority.

“So if you thought all Yonnite Mistresses were cruel, why did you beg me to buy you?” she asked, finishing the other arm and starting on his abdomen.

For a moment she thought she saw a look flit across his face—was it guilt? She wished for a moment she could feel other emotions than pain but her empathy was limited. Then he gave her an intense look from half-lowered green and blue eyes.

“I told you why I asked you to buy me,” he growled softly. “It’s because you make me react.” He nodded down between his thighs where his shaft had risen, long and hard, to hover over his tensed abdominal muscles. “I’ve never had a female do that to me—make me react against my will.”

His words made Neh’sa smile. The loss of control, which he seemed so worried about, was also the reason he’d wanted her to take him on as a body-slave. Maybe his training wouldn’t be quite as complicated as she’d feared. Deep down she was certain the big Kindred needed to lose control—to let himself open up in a way he probably never had before.

“That’s good,” she murmured, squeezing the sponge so that a warm stream of lather showered down onto his broad chest. “And speaking of making you react, I need you to spread your thighs for me and let me wash you.”

“As my Mistress wishes,” he rumbled, his eyes growing heavy-lidded and hot as the sparks in them danced faster.

“Very good.” Neh’sa smiled at him and leaned over the tub to reach him. Deliberately, she allowed her full breasts to dip into the bath water which soaked two spots right over her nipples as she scrubbed his long shaft gently with the soapy sponge. She watched Thorn watching her, his eyes taking in the way her green robe gaped open, showing her breasts and the now dripping nipples, and didn’t make any move to cover herself.

Why am I doing this? Why am I making his training sexual before I bring in a body substitute? She didn’t know—she only knew it felt right.

“Fuck, Mistress,” Thorn groaned softly, eyeing her exposed nipples. “You’re beautiful—you know that?”

“Thank you, Thorn,” she murmured. Tease and denial was an important part of her training program. Though, she usually waited until she had the female body substitute to begin it, this was a good start.

She didn’t actually use her hand on him—not yet—that would come later. But she did clean thoroughly with the sponge around his shaft and balls before reaching lower between his legs.

Thorn stiffened and started to pull his thighs together but Ne’sah shook her head. “No, I have to wash you everywhere,” she told the big Kindred firmly.

“But I don’t like—”

“You don’t know what you like,” Neh’sa corrected him gently. “But I’m going to teach you. We’re going to find out together. Now keep your legs open and let me wash you, Thorn.”

He squirmed uncomfortably but did as he was told, relaxing visibly when she finished with that area and moved on to washing his legs and feet. By the time she had him sit up so she could scrub his broad back, he was a little more at ease. And by the time Neh’sa washed his hair, he was almost asleep under her hands.

Good, he would need to learn to take both pain and pleasure from her touch, especially if they were going to push some of his limits to make him a good body-slave.

Neh’sa got him out and dried him off with a large, fluffy red towel, before leading him naked to her fitting room. It was a round area with viewers on every wall and rows and rows of drawers. She opened one to reveal a velvet lined cushion with several different leather collars on it.

Thorn eyed them dubiously.

“Is one of those for me? Did I already earn my collar?”

“By saving me, you mean? No.” Neh’sa shook her head. “You earn your collar by being obedient.”

“All right.” He nodded. “Then why are we here?”

“For these.” Opening another drawer, Neh’sa took out what she wanted—two thick bracelets made of dull copper metal. As she fastened them around his wrists, Thorn looked on with a frown.

“Are these some kind of pain manacles?”

Neh’sa nodded. “In a manner of speaking.”

“What? But I thought you didn’t believe in using agony nerve-conduction,” he protested.

“These will only shock you if you try to touch yourself.” Neh’sa nodded down at his still-erect shaft. “Go on—try it.”

Frowning, he reached for his shaft, only to give a hiss of pain and yank his hand away when his fingertips made contact.

“Gods! That hurts!”

Neh’sa resisted the urge to laugh. “I know you said you don’t care about pain but I’m guessing you care enough not to want to be shocked in that particular area.”

“Of course I don’t want to be shocked there.” He glared at her. “What’s the point of these things anyway?”

“To keep you from stroking yourself and coming, of course,” Neh’sa murmured. “Your orgasms, like your body, belong to me now, Thorn. You won’t be allowed to come until I say so and until you learn to submit and mind your manners, your orgasms are going to be very few and far between.”

“That’s not very fucking fair,” he growled. “Especially when you know you drive me crazy, Mistress.”

“Do I?” Smiling, she slipped out of the deep green robe—which was still wet across the front—and opened another drawer to get a different one—red this time. She watched Thorn’s eyes devour her hungrily—her full curves uncovered except for a thin pair of lace panties—before she belted the new robe around her waist. She liked those mismatched eyes on her—liked them possibly too much.

“You know you do,” he said hoarsely. “I feel like I’ve been hard for a fucking week already, Mistress and you just bought me today.”

“Then you’d better take to your training quickly,” Neh’sa pointed out. “And you can start by coming into the training room.”

She led him, naked except for the non-contact bracelets, into an adjoining room which was a perfect octagon. The eight walls were lined with equipment including a spanking bench, a whipping post, an agony cross to tie slaves to while she punished them, and a cage for confinement. The red velvet walls were covered in hooks and brackets which held various instruments of torture from floggers to whips to canes to electrified Branthian pain wands.

Thorn’s mismatched eyes widened as he took in all her equipment.

“Good thing I don’t mind pain,” he remarked dryly.

“Actually, it’s going to make your training somehow difficult for me,” Neh’sa told him. “Since most of my usual equipment won’t make any impression on you. However…” She shrugged. “I’ll find other ways. And besides, you aren’t here to be punished tonight. As I said earlier, I just want to inspect you.”

She led him over to the center of the room, opposite the 3-D viewer, and brought out a kneeling bench that consisted of leg rests without a seat. Adjusting it to the right height, she instructed the big Kindred to settle on the bench which supported his shins and the backs of his thighs while leaving his ass, shaft, and the rest of his body exposed.

Thorn settled onto the bench well enough, which put his large, muscular body within reach for Neh’sa—a must since she was so petite and he was so huge. He didn’t seem discomforted until she used a hook to pull some chains with leather cuff manacles down from the ceiling and fastened his hands over his head. But when she also cuffed his ankles to similar chains coming up from the floor, he began to get restive.

“Why are you doing this?” he demanded. “I can hold still no matter what you do to me. I have enough control.”

“I know you can,” Neh’sa said soothingly. “But I want you to let go of some of that control—give it to me for a little while, Thorn. You have so much tension inside you—so much pain. There are two ways to release it— through pleasure or through pain. The question is, can you do it? Can you let yourself release?”

She walked around to the front of him and cupped his face, scratchy with stubble, in both hands. Normally she liked her slaves shaved clean but in Thorn’s case she decided she would leave him as he was—she rather liked the roughness against her palms.

“Release my tension? Give you control?” He met her eyes challengingly but his voice was slightly tight. “I don’t know if I can do that, Mistress.”

“Try,” Neh’sa leaned forward to brush a feather-light kiss against his full lips. “Just try, Thorn. Can you do that for me?”

“I…suppose so.” He didn’t look very happy about it but she was pretty sure he would at least try to give what she was asking for so she nodded approvingly.

“Good. Now first, I want to get to know your body.”

She stepped back and took a pair of sleek black leather gloves from a nearby drawer filled with fetish wear and gags. She pulled them on and smoothed them over her palms and fingers before turning back to him.

Where to begin? Truly, he was a visual feast with his muscular arms stretched over his head and his broad chest put on display. His abdominals were bunched with tension and the big muscles in his thighs looked tight. His shaft was only half hard, as though he wasn’t certain if he liked this or not.

“It’s all right,” Neh’sa murmured, going back to caress his face again. “I’m not going to hurt you, Thorn.”

“Already told you, I don’t fear pain.” But he shivered under her light caress, maybe in response to the cool, black leather of her gloves against his cheeks.

“No, but you’ve had a lot of it, haven’t you?” Neh’sa murmured. She stroked over the cords of his strong throat, squeezing briefly to restrict his breathing for a moment and see how he reacted.

Thorn’s blue and green eyes widened for a moment but he didn’t try to fight her. He just held her eyes with his until she loosened her grip. Then his chest heaved, taking in a deep breath.

Neh’sa was pleased by his response. So he was able to give some control over to her, though it clearly wasn’t easy for him. Well, they would have to work on that.

“Let’s have a look at these arms first.” She stepped between his thighs and reached high to run her hands up his muscular arms. This placed her full breasts, barely hidden by the thin red silk robe, right in his face.

Thorn’s big body stiffened and he seemed to be holding himself in check somehow. Neh’sa felt the change in him and smiled to herself. Good, she wanted to see how far she could push him.

Deliberately, she shrugged her shoulders, causing the red robe, which was only loosely belted, to come open. Her full, bare breasts were completely revealed and she pressed them against his face as she made a great show of reaching higher.

She was aware that she was doing something she generally didn’t do with her submissives—getting much closer than she ought to. But somehow she couldn’t help herself when it came to Thorn.

“You seem to have some scars here,” she remarked, pretending not to notice that the creamy slopes of her breasts were rubbing against his scratchy cheeks. “Care to tell me what happened?”

“I’d…rather not,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

“Thorn, when I ask you questions, I expect answers—truthful answers.” She traced the small, round weals as big as her thumbnail which he had on both biceps. The scars looked old but not too old—they were still pinkish rather than white.

At the same time, she made certain her left nipple was rubbing right against his full lips, tempting him…teasing him in a way she normally didn’t tease submissives—especially not new ones. She told herself she just wanted to see how much Thorn could take but she had a feeling that she was testing herself as well.

The big Kindred stiffened against her. She could feel his entire huge, muscular body tensing against his bonds and the chains that held him in place chattered together as he tried to hold himself back.

Then with a low groan of, “Mistress!” his will seemed to snap and he sucked her ripe bud deep into his hot mouth.

Neh’sa entire body surged with pleasure and for a moment she allowed it to happen—allowed the big Kindred to suck her nipple and tease it with his tongue. She even pressed forward to let him take more. His deep suction caused sparks of pleasure to go straight from her breast to the throbbing spot between her thighs. Under the sheer lace panel of her panties she felt herself getting wet and hot.

At last, however, she pulled back. Thorn reluctantly allowed her tender peak to slip from between his lips and looked up at her. The burning sparks in his eyes were dancing faster than ever and he was breathing hard.

“Thorn…” Neh’sa made her voice stern and reproving though she still made no move to cover her bare breasts. “Didn’t I tell you that you’re not to touch your Mistress’s body unless she tells you to?”

“Yes Mistress,” he growled hoarsely. “Forgive me. I…I tried not to. I’ve never done such a thing to a female unasked before. It’s just that you…your touch…affects me so damn much!”

“That’s very flattering but I must insist that you follow the rules.” Reaching down, Neh’sa took the flat copper disks of one of his own nipples between her thumb and finger and twisted sharply.

The big Kindred let out a groan.

“Gods, Mistress!”

Neh’sa allowed herself a small smile. So, he wasn’t quite so immune to pain as he thought, was he? At least, not to sexual pain.

“That’s a little taste of punishment, Thorn,” she murmured, releasing his nipple and leaning down to soothe it with a soft lick of her tongue that made him groan again. “Be good or I’ll have to do it again.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he growled hoarsely.

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other. Now—back to the scars.” She leaned up to touch them again, once more pressing her chest to his face.

This time Thorn refrained from tasting her through an obvious effort of will. Good—he was learning.

“The scars on your arms? What are they from?” Neh’sa insisted, looking down at him.

“Blood…snails,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “They used them on me on Tantor Prime.”

Neh’sa was aghast. “Who used them on you? Another Master or Mistress?”

“Rather not say,” Thorn growled, his face going hard. “Let’s just say I was tortured and make an end to it.”

Neh’sa sensed he wasn’t ready to share more at the moment. Instead of pushing, she stepped away and circled him to stand at his broad back.

“Now these,” she said, tracing the scars between his shoulder blades she’d seen for the first time at the slave auction. “They’re very strange—they have the texture of old burns but the shape is more consistent with whip marks.”

As before, he flinched from her light touch but when he spoke, his voice was light and mocking.

“You have a good eye, Mistress. Those marks were made by a fire-whip on Rigel Seven.”

“A fire-whip, hmm…” She continued to stroke over his broad back and shoulders until he stopped flinching and simply relaxed under her touch. “That’s horrible, Thorn. It must have been unbearably painful.”

He shifted uncomfortably and she noticed that he didn’t give his usual response about how pain didn’t bother him. At last he said, haltingly, “It didn’t feel good, anyway. That’s for damn sure.”

“So I take it this torture was meant only for pain?” Neh’sa noticed how tight the whip-burn scars were—she needed to spread some balm on them to help loosen him up. “There was no sexual sub-context?” she asked him.

He barked an unhappy laugh.

“Sexual sub-context? Hell no—they just wanted it to hurt like the Seven Hells. And…” He cleared his throat. “In that case, at least, they fucking-well succeeded. Still don’t like being hit there.”

Neh’sa didn’t blame him—anyone would be back-shy after such a savage beating. She’d never used a fire-whip herself—they were considered too extreme by most Mistresses even for the harshest play. But there were some punishment houses in downtown Opulex—places where a well-heeled Mistress could rent exotic equipment—where they were available.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said quietly, still stroking his back and running her fingers through his thick, light brown hair soothingly. “I won’t use a whip on your upper back—we’ll consider that a hard limit.”

“A hard limit?” He met her eyes in the 3-D viewer which was on the wall opposite them. “What in the Seven Hells is that?”

“A line you absolutely won’t cross,” Neh’sa told him. “And as your Mistress, I promise I won’t cross it either.” She came around to face him again and looked into his eyes directly. “That’s my vow to you, Thorn. I give you my word I won’t whip or strike your upper back in either punishment or play—that area is off limits.”

His eyes went wide and then softened somewhat.

“Thank you, Mistress,” he murmured. “That’s…kind of you.”

Neh’sa could feel the emotional turmoil talking about the scars had brought up for him. Though he claimed that pain didn’t bother him she could tell it did and he had a lot of it—so much pain—bottled so tightly up inside that big, beautiful, muscular, scarred body.

Wanting to comfort him, she rubbed her right nipple against his lips—an open invitation this time.

Thorn frowned, not taking the bait.

“Are you testing me again, Mistress?” he demanded, his deep voice suddenly hoarse.

“No, comforting you. And rewarding you for telling me something that was hard to tell.” She stroked his cheek and looked into his eyes. “Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me, Thorn.”

“You’re welcome, Mistress. Thank you for caring.”

He parted his lips but instead of sucking her nipple, he sent out the tip of his tongue to swirl around her tight peak, making Neh’sa moan softly with pleasure. Thorn’s eyes grew half-lidded with desire and he took her pink nub very gently between his teeth and tugged before at last, sucking her hard and deep into his mouth.

Neh’sa gave a little gasp and reached up to tangle one hand in the thick hair at the back of his head. Gods, his mouth on her felt good!

When was the last time she’d used her own body as a training tool for a new slave? Honestly, she couldn’t remember. She normally called in a body substitute when she wanted to allow a submissive to practice pleasuring his future Mistress on actual female anatomy. But somehow it felt good—right—to allow Thorn to practice on her own body in this case.

It’s only my nipples, she told herself, feeling breathless as he released her right peak and began on the left. He’s only sucking my nipples. I’ll call in the substitute for everything else—especially when I want to assess his oral skills.

She could just imagine how dangerous letting Thorn get his tongue between her legs would be. The big Kindred had already expressed an interest in tasting her there and in her experience the males who genuinely wanted to go down on a female were the best at it. Such pleasure could easily get addictive and cause her to form an emotional attachment—something she definitely didn’t want since she was going to be selling Thorn to another Mistress at the end of his training cycle.

“That’s enough.” She heard the breathless note in her own voice as she withdrew from him at last. Looking down, she saw that both of her nipples were dark red from the suction of his hot mouth and shivered. Enough indeed.

“Thank you, Mistress for comforting me.” Thorn’s eyes were heavy-lidded with lust and his voice had a cocky note in it.

Neh’sa could practically read his mind.

He thinks because he got such a reaction from me he now has the upper hand. Thinks he’s the one in the driver’s seat, even though I have him chained up.

It was that damn Alpha pride coming out again—she would have to do something about it. Time to take her new sub down a notch.

Leaning over, she reached between his thighs and grasped the long, hard club of his cock in both hands. She needed both hands to encircle it—though the Kindred wasn’t as freakishly huge as Lady Wraith’neck’s Clopsian had been, he certainly was on the extra-extra-large side. Neh’sa couldn’t even imagine trying to take such a huge shaft between her thighs—just the thought of it made her shiver.

Then she realized where her mind was going and she frowned. Why was she even imagining allowing the big Kindred to penetrate her? She hadn’t allowed any male but Heloth to do such a thing and that had been so long ago, before she learned the hard way that such forbidden pleasure led to deep attachments and love…as well as unbearable pain when that love was taken away.

Thorn’s big body shivered under her touch and he let out a low groan as Neh’sa stroked him, the cool leather of her black gloves whispering over his straining flesh.

“Gods, Mistress—are you punishing me again or is this another reward?”

“Neither.” Neh’sa smiled at him. “I just wanted to gauge your reaction. And this is part of your training—a good body-slave must get used to having his Mistress’s hands all over his body any time it pleases her to touch him.”

“It pleases me too,” he growled as she reached lower to cup the heavy sac of his testicles in one palm and weigh them considering. “Feels fucking amazing and those leather gloves are driving me crazy.”

“Hmm…” Neh’sa nodded. “So you like giving up control of your body as long as I’m bringing you pleasure.”

He shrugged, as well as he was able with his arms still chained above his head.

“I guess so.”

“But what if the pleasure is not so…comfortable? Not so familiar?”

Going to another drawer in her equipment dresser, Neh’sa pulled out a small tube of clear ointment and tucked it into the pocket of her robe. Walking around to Thorn’s broad back again, she began to stroke him from his shoulders all the way down to his tight, firm ass.

He tensed at first and looked at her warily in the 3-D viewer as her hands traveled over his body.

“What are you up to, Mistress?”

“This.” Neh’sa adjusted the kneeling stool he was on to widen his stance and raise him up a little for easier access. Then she began kneading his buttocks, which went hard as a rock under her fingers.

“Uh, Neh’sa…” he began, his deep voice sounding uncertain.

“Mistress,” she corrected him sternly. “I notice you seem to have some trouble remembering that at times, Thorn, but I am always your Mistress. It’s not proper for you to call me by my first name without my title before it.”

“Well I don’t think what you’re doing back there is very proper either,” he growled as Neh’sa squirted a dollop from the small tube she’d tucked in her robe pocket onto one gloved finger. “What are you doing, anyway?”

“Inspecting you. Unclench, if you please Thorn.” She stroked along the furrow of his ass, causing him to clench even harder.

“Mistress…” His voice sounded deeply uncertain.

“Thorn…” She met his eyes in the viewer before them and made her voice gentle but stern. “I just want to touch you. Have you ever been touched here before? Has someone hurt you in the past?”

“No. Never that.” He shook his head and she could tell he was telling the truth. So no past sexual abuse—that was a relief, especially after seeing how horribly he’d been tortured with the blood-snails and the fire-whip.

“In that case,” she said, “I really need to touch you here.”

“Why?” he asked stubbornly, frowning at her in the viewer.

Neh’sa sighed. “You know that the Mistresses of Yonnie Six often penetrate their body-slaves. Some do it for pleasure, others use it as a form of punishment—we call it ‘giving a slave the rod.’”

“I know they do that here,” he admitted grudgingly.

“So you know that you’ll have to endure it—have to get used to it eventually.”

“You swore to me you wouldn’t penetrate me—wouldn’t fuck me—until I begged for it,” he pointed out harshly. “And I’m not begging for it, Mistress—not one damn bit.”

“Which is why I’m not going to fuck you tonight, Thorn,” Neh’sa murmured in his ear. Though he claimed to hate the idea, she could feel the shiver that went through his big body at her soft words and her warm breath against the side of his neck. “But I do need you to get used to at least being touched here.”

“You…do?” he asked haltingly. “And that’s all you’ll do? Just…just touch me?”

“I promise,” Neh’sa purred softly. She thought of how he’d said penetration was just another form of torture he could endure if he had to. But she didn’t want her new slave to think of it like that. She wanted him to give his body to her freely—this was the first step on that long, long road. The question was, would he be willing to take it?

“Well…” Thorn muttered.

Neh’sa could feel his resolve weakening and his buttocks weren’t quite so tightly clenched.

“Please, Thorn,” she whispered in his ear. “Let me show you that I don’t intend to hurt you. Give up just a little of your control and let me touch you. Trust me.”

With a low groan he at last relaxed his lower body.

“All right, Mistress,” he murmured, his voice slightly ragged. “Touch me.”

“That’s good—very good, Thorn.”

Gently, Neh’sa reached between his firm cheeks and found the tight, puckered rosebud there. She rubbed the slippery ointment around and around, tracing the little ring of muscle and watching Thorn’s face in the viewer as she did so, gauging his reactions.

At first there was a muscle in his square jaw that jumped and tensed but after a time, when she kept rubbing without doing anything else, his strong features smoothed out some.

“Good,” Neh’sa murmured again. With the hand that wasn’t caressing his rosebud, she reached around his muscular body and grasped the long, hard shaft of his cock.

Thorn groaned as she began to pump him while she continued to stroke his nether-entrance.

“Gods, Mistress—that’s not fair!” he groaned.

“I’m just showing you how pleasurable this particular part of your body can be, Thorn,” she murmured in his ear. “And there’s even more pleasure to be had if I do this.”

Gently but firmly, she inserted the tip of one gloved finger into his entrance.

The muscle in his jaw clenched again and he bucked against her hand and gave a muffled noise of protest.

“It’s all right,” Neh’sa murmured soothingly. She continued to stroke his shaft with her left hand while she held the right one still, with just the tip of her finger within him. “It’s all right—that’s just me inside you. Not very far but you’ve loosened up enough to let me in. That’s very, very good.”

“Uh…I guess so,” Thorn muttered uncertainly. “How…” He cleared his throat. “How long are you going to, uh, touch me like this, Mistress?”

“Why do you ask? Does it feel bad?” Neh’sa inquired.

“Not…exactly,” he admitted in a strained voice. “Feels strange but it doesn’t hurt.”

“There’s something I’d like to show you,” Neh’sa told him, pressing her finger just a little further into his tight entrance. “A spot inside you that’s going to feel very, very good when I touch it. But I have to go deeper to find it—can you let me do that, Thorn?” She kissed his cheek gently. “Can you give up enough control to let me make you feel good?”

For a moment he closed his eyes and simply breathed, his broad chest heaving with emotion. Clearly he was gathering himself—trying to decide what answer to give.

Neh’sa waited patiently—this part of his training absolutely could not be rushed. She’d broken many new body-slaves to the act of penetration before and it was never easy—especially not with Alphas who always felt they ought to be the ones doing the penetrating. If Thorn denied her further entrance she would withdraw and they would try again another time.

But she hoped he wouldn’t deny her. She wanted to see the uncertainty on his face change to pleasure as she brought him to the peak—wanted to watch him shoot his cum as she stroked him from both inside and out and he gave up his control to her at last.

At last, he nodded.

“All right,” he said, his deep voice hoarse. “I can stand it—I can take anything you can dish out.”

“I don’t want you to just ‘take it’—I don’t want to torture you,” Neh’sa told him. “I want you to give yourself willingly. Can you do that, Thorn?”

“If…” He took a deep breath. “I think I can if you keep stroking me.” He nodded down at her gloved left hand which was still caressing the rigid length of his cock. “It helps somehow, I don’t know why.”

“It’s a more familiar sensation—a more familiar pleasure than the one I’m about to give you,” Neh’sa told him. She sped up her tempo and at the same time, allowed her gloved finger to sink deeper into his hot tightness.

Thorn shifted uncomfortably but didn’t try to pull away as she slipped further and further inside him.

“Mistress…” he began and then Neh’sa found the spot she’d been searching for and his words were cut off with a low groan.

“There,” she murmured in his ear, still stroking his cock with her other hand. “Right there is the spot I told you about.” She pressed hard, massaging it, rubbing it just the way she knew would stimulate him almost unbearably.

“Gods!” he groaned, thrusting into her fist as she continued to milk him. “That’s…I’ve never felt anything like that! I think…think I’m going to…”

“Come?” Neh’sa breathed in his ear. “That’s good, Thorn—that’s what I want. I want to watch you come while I stroke you—while I open you. Come for me now.”

As she spoke, she tightened her grip on his cock and rubbed extra hard on the special spot inside him—the gland that helped produce his seed.

With a low, hoarse shout, Thorn jerked in her fist and began to come. Neh’sa watched in satisfaction as his hips jerked and rope after rope of thick, white seed splattered across the black leather mat of the training room floor. Either Thorn hadn’t had a physical release in a while or Kindred were heavy producers. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d milked so much seed out of a submissive. It was damned sexy.

Of course, she was usually standing back, giving the orders to have another do the milking. The fact that she was doing this to Thorn herself—allowing herself to get so close to him—made the whole act even more erotic. Neh’sa felt the high of giving pleasure as he spasmed in her grasp and loved it, just as she had used to with Heloth.

At last he finished and sagged, going limp in his chains, his broad chest heaving.

“Gods,” he muttered. “Can’t…can’t believe I just let you do that.”

Neh’sa withdrew her finger and stripped off the black leather gloves, tossing them into a wash-bin. Coming around to face him again, she looked into his eyes.

“Now,” she whispered softly. “Was that so bad? Was it torture like you thought it would be?”

“No.” His mismatched eyes were wide and wondering and for the first time since she’d seen him, Neh’sa saw that the brilliant sparks in their depths were almost completely still. “No, it…it wasn’t bad at all. It actually felt fucking incredible.”

“I’m glad you thought so.” Neh’sa smiled at him. “I’m so proud of you, Thorn. You gave yourself to me beautifully. For just a minute, you gave up some of that control that’s so important to you. Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome, Mistress,” he breathed. “I…I don’t think I could have given control to anyone else. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“Oh, Thorn…”

His words—so open and unrehearsed—touched her to the core. Impulsively, Neh’sa slanted her lips over his and drew him in for a kiss—a much deeper one than the light, barely-there brush of lips to lips she’d done last time.

Thorn surprised her by kissing her back hungrily. Though his arms were still above his head, he surged forward, invading her mouth with his tongue, taking her lips and learning her mouth as though he owned her instead of the other way around.

The ravenous intensity of the kiss shocked Neh’sa and for a moment, she felt herself giving in to it—allowing Thorn to plunder her mouth and dominate the action between them in a way that shouldn’t have been possible after the way he’d submitted just moments before. He ought to be all wrung out—his cock as limp as a week-old stalk of jentha grass after the way she’d milked him. Instead she could feel his shaft surge to fresh life, pressing insistently against her inner thighs as he tried his best to claim her with only the power of a kiss.

Then she got hold of herself.

What are you doing, Neh’sa? You can’t allow this to continue. His Alpha tendencies are coming out again and you have to get a handle on them. He’s got such strong dominate instincts it will be impossible to keep him in check if you don’t get control of yourself and him right now.

Reluctantly, she withdrew from the kiss and told herself it couldn’t happen again. Such deep physical intimacy led to emotional intimacy which she could ill afford. She couldn’t let herself become attached to the big Kindred—not if she hoped to be able to sell him and stand at his Devotion Ceremony to another Mistress with anything approaching clarity and calm.

But just the thought of that—the thought of watching Thorn kiss another woman’s panties and vow his eternal love and devotion to her—made Neh’sa’s stomach clench unhappily. The idea of him with someone else was unpleasant—deeply unpleasant—which told her she needed to back away right now before she started getting too attached.

Of course, she would give him some aftercare—that was important, especially after what was essentially his first submission. But she couldn’t let herself become emotionally involved in it.

“All right,” she said briskly, stepping back. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Training is over for now.”

Chapter Eight

As she unchained him, Thorn still felt dazed from the incredible orgasm she’d drawn from him. His new Mistress was amazingly skilled—there was no doubt about that.

He still couldn’t believe how easily he’d submitted to her. Well—it hadn’t been easy at first of course—but after he’d made up his mind to try and be open to what she wanted from him, the whole situation seemed to become much simpler. And then when she started stroking that spot inside him…

“I said, are you all right, Thorn?” Neh’sa’s soft voice cut through the confusion in his head and he looked up to see that she was staring at him anxiously.

“Uh…yes. Thank you, Mistress. Just fine,” he muttered as she unchained his hands and ankles. She did leave the non-contact bracelets on him but Thorn hardly noticed. He felt strangely dazed—not quite himself.

Inside his head, he kept reliving the scene that had just played out between them.

I gave it up for her—gave up control, he admitted to himself. He’d been afraid if he loosed the iron grip he had on himself, even for an instant, the fire inside him might blaze up. Instead, for the first time since she’d touched him at the slave auction, he felt completely at peace—the fire banked and quiet—at least for now. Was that due to the earth-shattering orgasm she’d given him? Or was it simply the by-product of letting someone else have total control of his body for a while?

Thorn had no answers and his brain still felt fuzzy. He allowed Neh’sa to get him dressed in a long pair of black silk sleep trousers and drank the electrolyte replenishment shake she insisted he needed. Through it all, he felt like he was sleepwalking—like he wasn’t fully awake somehow. The sensation should have bothered him but for some reason it didn’t.

What’s wrong with me? he thought woozily. I’m behaving like a drunk idiot—not a member of the Espionage Corps. No one would guess I’ve been on over forty successful missions the way I’m acting.

But still the sensation persisted. He responded to Neh’sa’s questions and allowed her to lead him into her private sitting area to relax on a large, comfortable couch in front of a blue and green thistle-flame fire, but still he didn’t feel quite himself.

“Thorn,” she said to him, frowning. “Are you certain you’re all right? You’re very quiet.”

“Fine, Mistress,” he replied, making an effort to rouse himself. “I feel…fine.”

Neh’sa was still frowning. “I just—”

Just then the mechanical voice of the house information system came over the speaker in her room.

“Mistress Neh’sanna, you have an urgent call on the vid-screen.”

“A call from whom?” Neh’sa snapped. “I really don’t have time for any of Lady Wraith’neck’s nonsense. So if it’s her barrister, let her know—”

“It is from M,” the information system informed her.

Neh’sa’s face paled. “M? But why would he be calling? It’s not my night for duty.”

“I only know that he says he needs urgently to speak to you. Will you take the call?” the system inquired blandly.

Neh’sa sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

“Yes, all right. I’ll take it on the vid-screen in my bedchamber.”

“Understood,” The information system said. “Routing the call now.”

It cut out and Neh’sa jumped up, looking more agitated than Thorn had yet seen her, and went quickly into the bedchamber.

Curiosity cut through some of the strange, drugged sluggishness Thorn was feeling. He stood and made his way to the door that connected the sitting room to Neh’sa’s bedchamber.

Putting his eye to the crack in the door, just as he had earlier at her office, he saw Neh’sa—her robe now tightly and modestly belted—looking into the flat, rectangular vid-screen mounted on her wall. There was a male in his mid thirties with long black hair and pale amber eyes looking back at her.

“…really can’t come tonight,” Neh’sa was saying to him. “Can’t this wait?”

“I am afraid not, Mistress Neh’sanna.” The male frowned. “This is a grave injury—I fear without your touch I will not be able to heal it.”

Neh’sa bit her lip. “Of course I want to help but I’ve already used my touch several times today and I fear—”

“It’s a child,” the male told her. “Barely eight cycles old. Please, my Lady.”

“All right.” Neh’sa nodded. “Of course I’ll come.”

“The faster the better. I fear he’s slipping away even now.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Neh’sa promised.

The vid-screen clicked off and she ran quickly to her walk-in closet, shedding her robe along the way.

Thorn frowned at what he’d seen. Where was she going? What was all the talk of her “touch”? And who was the male who had compelled her to come to him?

This was the kind of puzzle he was normally used to solving. If his head hadn’t been so fuzzy he felt certain he would have known at once what was going on. As it was, he was barely able to make himself go back to the couch before Neh’sa emerged from the bedchamber, dressed in a somber dark-gray cloak with a hood that nearly hid her face.

“I have to go out, Thorn,” she told him. “I’m sorry—I don’t like leaving you alone on your first night with me but this is an emergency.”

“It’s all right, Mistress,” he heard himself say dully. “But…where are you going?”

“No place you need to know about,” she said briskly. “Now listen—your room is the smaller one adjoining my bedchamber. You’ll find a sleeping platform and a closet stocked with clothing in your size. Well—we’ll get it stocked tomorrow, anyway. I think it’s best you go straight to bed and get some sleep. You’ve had a very tiring day.”

Thorn frowned at her, feeling irritated.

“I’m fine, Mistress,” he growled although to be honest, he still felt off somehow. “I’ve done everything you asked. Are you really going to send me to bed early like a naughty child?”

Neh’sa looked taken aback.

“No—no of course not,” she said, frowning. “I only meant—” She shook her head. “Look, I’m sorry Thorn. You may, of course, have the run of the domicile. The only room off limits is my office. I’ll be back in a few hours—I hope.”

Then, before he could ask anymore questions, she was gone.

* * * * *

Neh’sa rode down her private lift, her mind full of questions and concerns. She hadn’t liked leaving Thorn alone after his first submission. Such things could be traumatic, after all. But when Matmon called, she had no choice – she had to go.

Her private lift took her all the way down to the bottom floor and opened onto the outside of her building rather than the inside. Neh’sa drew her cloak around her tightly, shielding her face, and walked briskly down the main street. Soon enough she turned into a small side street and then an even smaller alleyway.

A crumbling brick wall shielded the entrance to her destination. This was the main reason she chose to live in downtown Opulex – because it was so close to this place which was like an extension of her heart.

The minute she walked around the wall and rapped her knuckles on the sagging wooden door, she felt her heart left a little as it always did when she came here. The door creaked open and she was at once enveloped in controlled chaos.

The front of the building, which was an empty dream gas warehouse that had been repurposed, was like a makeshift waiting room. It was filled with long wooden benches where rows and rows of injured males sat waiting for treatment. Some of them were body-slaves and some were simply down and out males with no one to care for them. But though they had no Mistresses and no way of knowing where their next meal was going to come from half the time, they were still envied by some of the males who were owned.

“So I told her, I said to her, my Lady I can’t take no more of those pain bracelets. Not if you want me to be able to carry your fine Fruckian plates without dropping ‘em all over the place,” Neh’sa heard one male telling another as they waited for their turn to be seen. “And what does she do? She shocks me again! Now I can’t feel any of my fingers – it’s like I’m wearing gloves all the time. I’m just hoping they can help me out a little bit—I keep dropping things and my Lady is getting very angry with me.”

“Even though she’s the one as did it to you,” the other male said sympathetically. Mistresses are cruel bitches, make no mistake about that.”

“You said it brother!” The other man said. At that point both men seem to notice Neh’sa walking through the waiting area. They gave her unfriendly glances from the corners of their eyes and one of them muttered to the other, “What’s she doing here? I thought this was an all-male safe space.”

“This is the lady who pays for this place and all your treatment,” a deep male voice spoke up. “You’d best pay respect and be glad she cares for your wretched hides.” It was Matmon striding towards her and Neh’sa was concerned to see blood splattered across the front of his pale blue smock.

“Oh Matmon,” she exclaimed. “Please tell me I’m not too late! I came as quickly as I could.”

“No I think you may be just in time if we hurry,” the large male told her. “But it’s going to be touch and go. Come on!”

Neh’sa followed him through the swinging double doors that led to the back part of the clinic. Here there were several spaces devoted to triage where other med techs, mostly trained by Matmon, treated patients of all ages. But there was one thing both patients and techs all had in common – they were all male.

She had founded the clinic soon after Heloth had died in the male-uprising riots ten cycles ago. A safe space for mistreated males, of which there were many here on Yonnie Six. It was her tribute to him – a lasting legacy of their love – and Neh’sa tried to spend at least two or three evenings a week here helping Matmon out with the more difficult and dangerous injuries.

Not that she had any medical training – other than a few first-aid courses. But she had the healing touch, something that was passed from mother to daughter in her family. It was limited in her, as was her empathic ability.

Her mother had had a much greater gift – she had been able to read a whole range of emotions and heal a whole range of injuries with ease. Neh’sa could only feel pain and do her best to heal it.

Still, it was often enough, especially with Matmon, who was a skilled surgeon, at her side. Neh’sa felt very lucky that she’d been able to attract him to Yonnie Six in the first place. Her planet certainly wasn’t the most welcoming to males from other places. Or males at all for that matter.

But her head surgeon had seen the need and had been willing to come, for which Neh’sa was grateful. It was important to have a male in charge of the place because anti-female sentiment ran so high, especially in the slave classes.

Of course, Neh’sa didn’t blame the males who came to her clinic for their hatred of females. They were a repressed and subjugated sex and the majority of Mistresses on Yonnie Six had no idea of the proper treatment and care of the submissive male.

Neh’sa had been working for years to try and correct the ignorance and cruelty she saw all around her, but some days she felt like things were going backwards. Like today for instance – with Lady Wraith’neck and her huge Clopsian. What a travesty! What was she going to do about the charges the other Mistress planned to bring against her?

Before she had much time to brood on the matter, they came to the main surgical suite.

“He’s already sedated,” Matmon told her. “He got caught and dragged under the wheels of a carryall. Even if we can save him, his spinal column’s been crushed. He’ll need a permanent stimulator implanted if he’s ever going to walk again.”

“Let’s just worry about saving him first,” Neh’sa said. “And I’ll pay for the stimulator myself if you’ll put it in.”

“Of course I will my Lady.” Matmon made an abbreviated bow and then led the way into the operating suite. “Come – let us save him.”

The boy who lay on the operating table was a street urchin – he wore no collar or bracelets or marks of ownership of any kind. His little legs were twisted and mangled and there was blood so much blood… Neh’sa caught her breath at the sight of it. No matter how many awful injuries she saw, they were always worse when the victim was a child.

“I’m afraid this is going to take a while,” Matmon told her. “If you could please scrub in and stand on the left side of the table. I’ll be working on the right, if you can apply your touch while I do surgery?”

“Yes of course.” Neh’sa nodded quickly and went to the scrubbing station. She quickly scrubbed in and irradiated her hands, getting rid of all germs and bacteria, before putting on a tight fitting set of second-skin gloves and going to stand beside the tiny crumpled form on the operating table.

Matmon joined her quickly. Hooking an OPTi wire loop over one eye and choosing his instruments carefully, he looked up at Neh’sa.

“Ready?” he asked.

Neh’sa nodded wordlessly and closed her eyes doing her best to draw from the reserve of inner strength which she had already used much of today. This was going to be a long night—she just prayed to the Goddess they would be able to save this small life.

Chapter Nine

Thorn knew he should get up and go to bed but somehow he couldn’t make himself do it. A strange lethargy had taken hold of him and all he could do was sink further into the couch and stare at the dying embers of the thistle-fire which burned blue and green and purple as it crackled quietly on the hearth.

His earlier brain fog seemed to have lifted but it had been replaced with so many contradictory thoughts he almost wished it hadn’t deserted him. Again and again his mind went back to the scene in Neh’sa’s training room. The way she’d touched him…taken him…

Gods! Thorn squeezed his eyes closed briefly. He could still feel her in him, stroking him, opening him, making him come. Before this mission, he’d thought of penetration as just another form of torture to be endured. But now…well, maybe it might not be so bad.

Then he thought of the thick black phallus he’d seen Neh’sa wearing in the holo-image Commander Sylvan had showed him of her when they were planning the mission.

Did he really want that inside him?

I can take it if I have to, he told himself grimly.

Yes, but what if his new Mistress somehow got him to want to take it? There was no shame in enduring torture—he’d done it many times. But he’d never begged for it—never opened himself and asked to be taken, asked to be fucked…

Stop it! Thorn told himself sharply. Just fucking stop it! What’s wrong with you anyway? You’re acting like you’re really her body-slave—like you’re here for the long term and you know that’s not true! The ceremony at the Library of All Knowledge is coming up soon. The minute that happens—the minute you get inside and get a copy of the Hive information they have stored there—you’re gone. Greed’lik will be waiting to pick you up and Mistress Neh’sanna won’t have any idea where her precious new slave went. So stop acting like this is forever—it’s not and she’s not. You’ll be back to the Kindred Mothership with the intel before you know it.

The pep-talk should have made him feel better but somehow it didn’t. Nothing seemed to help or to draw his mind for long from what had happened in the training room.

She took me and I let her—I gave it up willingly. Hell, I enjoyed it—best orgasm of my life. What’s wrong with me? What must she think of me? Why do I care what she thinks, anyway?

But somehow he did. Though he had known her less than an entire solar day, Thorn found he cared desperately what his new Mistress thought of him. He felt connected to her as he had never felt connected to any other female in his life. Which was foolish, considering what a short time he’d known her. But still—he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were somehow entwined.

He couldn’t help wondering where Neh’sa was now—with that male who had appeared on the vid-screen? Who was he, anyway? Her lover? Would she take a male lover? She had appeared to speak to him as an equal. But no males were equal to females here on Yonnie Six. So who was he?

Endless questions looped inside his brain and the fire burned down to smoldering embers. Thorn began to feel cold—chilled to the bone—but he had no energy to get up and feed the fire or even find a blanket to put around himself.

Shivering, he closed his eyes and for a time drifted into a thin, uneasy sleep.

He dreamed and saw his new Mistress standing over a bloody table, her eyes closed as she concentrated hard on something. Thorn didn’t know what it was but somehow, in the dream, he knew this was a matter of life and death.

Her hands were emitting a soft, pinkish glow and he knew that if he touched them, he would feel the same healing warmth he’d felt flowing through his own body when she’d bathed and dressed the wounds he’d gotten from the razor-gravel.

The touch, whispered a voice in his head that didn’t sound like his own. She has the healing touch. But when she uses it, she gives of herself and it drains her…

Thorn could see the weariness in her eyes, the hollowness in her lovely cheeks as she poured herself into whatever lay on that bloody table. It was killing her to give so much and yet she kept giving—depleting herself—driving herself to the point of exhaustion and beyond…

Then the scene seemed to change and he saw her on the street—no, in an alley. She was nearly staggering with weariness, all alone in the dark, dangerous place. An easy mark—prey ripe for the plucking for any predator who just happened to come along. Gods, why was she out there undefended?

Because you didn’t go with her! whispered an accusing voice in his head. Because you sat on the couch and stared at the fire like an idiot instead of insisting on going with her, on protecting her!

He woke with a start, worried about Neh’sa. A glance at the expensive indigo crystal chronometer on the wall showed she’d been gone for hours. Was she all right? Why had he let her leave and go into the Goddess alone knew what kind of danger all by herself? He ought to be out there protecting her right now.

Though his body felt stiff and cold, and his limbs didn’t want to move, Thorn forced himself to get off the couch and go staggering towards the door. He would wake up the butler and demand to know where Neh’sa could have gone. He would go out looking for her himself. He would—

The door opened and Neh’sa wobbled into the room. Her face was gray and her cheeks were hollow—she looked on the point of collapse.

“Mistress!” Thorn’s voice came out in a croak.

“Thorn?” She looked up dully, took a step towards him, wobbled, and started to fall.

With a low cry, he rushed forward to catch her in his arms.

She looked up at him, her eyes dull with weariness.

“Catching me…you’re always catching me.”

“Because you’re always falling,” he growled, but his voice came out hoarse and uneven.

Neh’sa frowned and put a hand on his bicep.

“Goddess, you’re ice cold! What’s wrong with you, Thorn?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, too tired to lie and pretend he was fine anymore. “All I know is that I’ve felt…strange since our, uh, time together in the training room.”

“Strange?” Her voice sharpened and some of the dullness left her eyes. “Define ‘strange.’ How exactly have you been feeling?”

Thorn shrugged his shoulders.

“Dazed, hazy—almost drugged. My thoughts are fuzzy but when I do think, all that comes to my mind is you. I was so fucking worried about you, Neh’sa—where did you go?”

She didn’t correct him for not calling her Mistress. Instead she frowned and put a hand to his forehead as though assessing him in some way.

“I should have noticed this before. Goddess, how could I not?”

“Noticed what?” Thorn asked but she only shook her head.

“Put me down. You’re barely strong enough to hold yourself upright—let alone me. I’m not exactly thin, you know.”

“You’re curvy and perfect,” Thorn growled. “And…” His voice dipped a little. “And I don’t want to put you down. Holding you makes me feel better.”

What he didn’t say was that having her touch him—put her hands on him—made him feel better still. Not because she was using that strange, healing magic—the healing touch whispered the voice of his dream—but because her touch to him was like water and sunlight to a plant. Because he craved it—craved just to be near her, to feel her skin against his, no matter how briefly.

Gods, what was wrong with him, thinking like this? This female wasn’t really his Mistress, no matter what she thought. He was a spy on a mission and he would betray her and leave her in a matter of days.

But somehow none of that mattered. Not when he wanted—no needed—to touch her so badly.

“Let me hold you, Mistress,” he said in a low voice, looking into her big, dark eyes. “Just let me hold you for a little while and I’ll feel better.”

She studied his face for a moment.

“Yes, I believe you will. Come on then, Thorn. Take me to the bedchamber and we’ll hold each other.”

* * * * *

The big Kindred carried her into the bedchamber, holding her as lightly as though she weighed no more than a doll. Inside Neh’sa’s head a little voice was shouting that this was wrong—that it was risky. She never let submissives sleep in the bed with her—it was a dangerous blurring of the line between Mistress and body-slave. It was bad training—it would encourage his Alpha tendencies even more—make him want to be more dominant—give him the wrong idea…

Every reason she shouldn’t do this flew through her head like shooting stars and Neh’sa ignored them all.

It’s my fault he’s in this state, she told herself, attempting to shut up the shouting voice of reason in her head. I didn’t give him enough aftercare. I cleaned him up and made him get dressed and gave him the nutrient replacement shake but I didn’t give him any tenderness—didn’t care for him or stroke him or reassure him. Goddess what’s wrong with me? I’ve been a terrible Mistress—a terrible Dominant tonight.

Though the long surgery at the clinic had depleted her inner reserves too much for her to have any of her healing touch left at the moment, she sensed that physical healing wasn’t what Thorn needed from her. No, what he needed was emotional—physical. He needed skin to skin contact—needed it so badly he was shivering and aching for it. She could feel his pain—though the touch power she’d inherited from her mother’s people could be depleted, her empathic senses never completely dulled.

“Help me undress,” she told Thorn. “Then come under the covers with me.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Eagerly, he pulled off her cloak and the clothes she had on under it, baring her skin at last. When Neh’sa was naked, he looked at her in the dim light of the dying fire spilling in from the other room and groaned hoarsely. “Gods, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Come to bed with me,” Neh’sa whispered, feeling her breath catch in her throat and her pulse pick up despite her weariness. When was the last time she’d said that to a male? How long had it been? Not for ten long, lonely years—not since Heloth had been alive.

With a hungry growl, Thorn did as she said, lifting the heavy Verru-satin counterpane and sliding them both between the silky, gossamer-fluff sheets. Then he wrapped his big, muscular arms around her and pulled her close, holding her like a drowning male might hold onto a spar in the ocean, trusting it to keep him afloat.

“Oh Thorn,” Neh’sa whispered, putting her arms around his neck and carding her fingers though his hair. He was so big she felt completely surrounded by his muscular body. She could feel his face pressed close to her throat, breathing her in, scenting her as though he was trying desperately to memorize her personal aroma and she stroked his hair and let him do it.

What was it about this male? It wasn’t that he reminded her of Heloth—he was much bigger for one thing and Heloth had been more soft spoken. But there was a feeling when he held her in his arms—a feeling of safety and trust so tender it almost stung her with its sweetness. Her whole body felt like it had been numb for years and was just now coming back to life, tingling like a hand or a foot that has fallen asleep and is prickling with pins and needles as it awakens.

Speaking of coming to life, she could feel the big Kindred’s massive erection pressed against her thighs. Though he still wore the black sleep trousers she’d given him, Neh’sa herself was naked—completely naked and pressed against her new sub—who was also dangerously Alpha. She was acting in a way she had never allowed herself to act before and yet she didn’t want to stop.

“Mistress,” Thorn murmured, his breath hot against her neck. His big body was warming up, now that they were touching, all cuddled together under the covers. Neh’sa could feel life returning to him and it was a good feeling. “Mistress, please,” he muttered hoarsely.

Neh’sa knew what he was asking.

“Here.” She tugged at his head, pressing his face down to her full, naked breasts. “Only this,” she told him breathlessly, her voice panting and uneven as he took one of her nipples into his hot mouth and began to suck eagerly. “Only this and nothing more.”

He looked up for a moment, letting her nipple slide from between his lips.

“Can I touch you? While I do?”

“Touch me…how exactly?” Neh’sa demanded, wishing her breathing would calm down. But somehow it wouldn’t and she just kept sounding more and more breathy.

In answer, his big, warm hands explored her body, caressing from her shoulders down the length of her back, lingering briefly in the dip of her waist before cupping the curve of her ass and squeezing possessively.

“Gods, Mistress I love your curves,” he groaned and then he was sucking her nipples again, tugging hard and nipping gently until sparks of pleasure flew through her body right to the spot between her thighs, which was getting wet, so wet…

Thorn seemed to sense her wetness or maybe he just wanted to touch her everywhere. Before Neh’sa knew it, one big, warm hand was sliding down her trembling belly to cup her pussy.

“Thorn,” she protested and though she meant to use her stern Mistress voice what came out was more like a plea than a condemnation. “Thorn no—you mustn’t.”

“Mustn’t what, Mistress?” he growled softly in her ear. “Mustn’t cup your soft little pussy in my hand? Mustn’t spread your sweet pussy lips and pleasure you?”

“I told you—a body-slave never touches his Mistress’s body—especially not intimately—until she tells him to,” Neh’sa said, trying to sound firm.

“Tell me to, then.” His mismatched eyes blazed down into hers and Neh’sa saw that the lovely golden sparks in them were glowing in the dimness of the room. “Tell me to spread your sweet little pussy and just show you how I’d touch you and pleasure you if you’d only let me.”

“Just…show me?” Neh’sa whispered.

Slowly, he nodded. “Just show you once. I’m supposed to be learning how to pleasure my Mistress, right? Well let me show you how I’d do it.”

Her stomach fluttered and her pussy was so hot and wet it felt like she was pure liquid heat between her legs.

“Yes,” she heard herself whispering. “Yes, all right—but only for a moment. Show me.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he growled softly.

With a nudge from him she parted her thighs and then his long fingers were opening her sex. Neh’sa gave a low, breathless moan as she felt his fingertip—blunt and gentle—stroking over her wet folds and then circling her clit. Then he slid lower and she felt just the tip of his finger nudging into her entrance.

“Thorn!” For a moment her eyes grew wide and she almost drew back.

“What’s the matter Mistress?” he murmured. “Don’t you like penetration?” Why don’t you let me show you how good it can be—the way you showed me?”

“You shouldn’t,” she protested, trying to shut her legs, though not very hard. “I shouldn’t let you. I’m your Mistress and you’re my body-slave—my submissive. This is…this could derail your entire training.”

“Not training now,” he argued softly, stroking up and down, around and around her throbbing clit but always coming back to her entrance. “Not a Mistress and a slave. Just a male and a female holding each other—making each other feel good. Please, Mistress…” He ducked his head to kiss her gently on the lips. “Please let me make you feel good.”

With a low groan, Neh’sa gave in. Letting her thighs drift apart, she allowed Thorn to slip two long, thick fingers deep inside her pussy. Immediately the pleasure of penetration—the pleasure she’d denied herself for ten long years—flooded her body like a drug.

The broad pad of Thorn’s thumb began to slip back and forth over her slippery clit while his long fingers pressed hard and deep inside her.

It was too much. Neh’sa found that she was suddenly at the edge of orgasm and then over it, moaning helplessly the pleasure rushed over her and she allowed Thorn to make her come until she thought she would die of pleasure.

“Thorn!” Arching her back and pumping her hips, she moaned, giving voice to the emotion overflowing within her. “Thorn—oh Goddess, that feels so good!”

Thorn leaned over her and captured her mouth with his—kissing her until she couldn’t breathe—swallowing her moans hungrily as he continued to pump her pussy.

He rode out her orgasm, his fingers busy between her legs, until he felt Neh’sa go limp and relax. Then, slowly, he withdrew. Looking into her eyes, he sucked his fingers into his mouth, cleaning away her honey with obvious pleasure.

“Thank you, Mistress,” he growled softly. “For letting me pleasure you. For letting me open you as you opened me.”

“You’re welcome, Thorn.” Her voice still sounded breathless in her own ears. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Much.” He licked his fingers again, his eyes heavy-lidded. “But you look tired, Mistress. Why don’t you lay back and let me pleasure you again—this time with my tongue?”

For a moment Neh’sa was tempted. She hadn’t allowed a male to go down on her since Heloth had died and something told her that Thorn would be very, very good at it.

But then sanity reasserted itself. She’d already gone much farther with her new slave than was advisable. Had already fed his Alpha tendencies when she ought to be discouraging them instead. This had to stop now or there would be no stopping it.

“No, Thorn,” she said firmly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that. I’ve already allowed you much more freedom than I should have.”

He nodded respectfully.

“All right, I understand. But allow me one more freedom, Mistress—let me hold you tonight. Please.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say no—she never let slaves sleep with her. But she remembered the state he’d been in when she first came in. He’d experienced a fairly severe case of sub-drop and it had been her fault for skimping on his aftercare. She couldn’t allow it to happen again.

“All right,” she whispered at last. “But nothing else of a sexual nature must happen between us. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he rumbled. Pulling her close, he fit her into the curve of his big body. “As long as you’ll just let me hold you, I promise to behave myself.”

Neh’sa sighed. She was too tired to fight about their sleeping arrangements and the big Kindred’s muscular form felt too good against her own to want to fight anyway.

“Good night, Thorn,” she whispered, allowing herself to relax against him. “Sleep well.”

“Very well, with you in my arms, Mistress,” he murmured.

But almost before she heard his last words, Neh’sa had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter Ten

When Neh’sa woke, it was with a sweet, lazy feeling of well-being she hadn’t experienced in years. She felt warm too, which was unusual for her. Generally, no matter how many covers she piled on at night, she woke freezing cold. But this morning she was toasty warm. Why?

Her mind went over the hazy events of the day before. The auction…the Devotion Ceremony which had been nearly ruined by that horrid Lady Wraith’neck…the urgent call to the clinic where she’d expended nearly all of her inner reserves…and then coming home to find Thorn in an awful state…

Thorn!

The memory brought her wide awake and as she thought his name, her huge new Kindred body-slave murmured in his sleep and pulled her closer. The reason she was so warm was because her back was pressed to his front and he had one long, muscular arm draped over her possessively.

Oh Goddess, what have I done?

She’d completely abandoned protocol. Not only had she allowed her new submissive to touch her and penetrate her with his fingers, she’d then curled up in his arms and slept with him as though he was a lover instead of a slave. Those Alpha tendencies of his which she’d been trying to curb would be completely out of control now—she’d very possibly ruined his training forever.

What’s wrong with me? Why am I acting like this with him? No one watching my actions last night would have any idea I’m a seasoned Domme who has trained dozens of submissives. I’m acting like an inexperienced first-time Mistress who’s never owned a slave before.

She was, in fact, acting like she had with Heloth, who had been the first body-slave she’d ever owned—the only one she’d allowed to pledge his devotion to her.

But Neh’sa didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that she was acting as she had when she’d allowed herself to fall in love.

“Mmm…good morning, Mistress. You awake?” Thorn’s deep voice seemed to vibrate her entire body as he spoke.

Neh’sa stiffened and answered carefully.

“I am but I thought you were still asleep.”

“Felt you tense up—I think that’s what woke me,” he rumbled. “I seem to be…very attuned to you.” He frowned. “Don’t know why that is…”

Neh’sa sat up and pulled the sheet up to cover herself before turning to face him. Normally she wasn’t shy about showing off her body—putting on a sexual display was part of Yonnite culture—it was equated with wealth and power. But somehow she felt vulnerable being naked with her big slave just at the moment—maybe because of all the things she’d allowed him to do that she shouldn’t have.

“I’m fine, Thorn,” she said, struggling to regain her composure. “But I need you to understand something—what happened between us last night can not and will not happen again. I only allowed you to sleep with me because you had a severe case of sub-drop last night and I was truly worried about you.”

He propped himself up on one elbow and frowned.

“Okay, putting aside the fact that I’m not allowed in your bed…Sub-drop? What in the Seven Hells is that?”

“A psychological condition which can have physical effects,” Neh’sa told him. “It’s the temporary depression and chemical imbalance that can happen to a submissive after a particularly intense interaction with his Domme.”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“An intense submission, such as the one you experienced yesterday, can release all kinds of pleasure chemicals into the brain,” she explained. “When it’s over and your body is no longer producing those chemicals, you can experience a steep drop in your mood—a low to match the high, so to speak.”

“So…it’s almost like my body went into withdrawal?” Thorn rumbled, looking at her. “And…you’re the drug I was craving?”

“In a way, although I didn’t expect it to be such a problem for you.” She frowned. “I should have though. You’re extremely Alpha and you have dominant tendencies of your own. Giving up enough of your control to let me penetrate you—even just a little—must have been extraordinarily difficult.”

“It wasn’t easy,” he admitted gruffly. “Afterwards I felt so fucking strange—almost in a daze. And all I could think about…” He cleared his throat. “All I could think of was you, Mistress. And what you must think of me after I let you…”

“Take you?” Neh’sa asked softly. “Yes, that’s a symptom of sub-drop too. No matter how much a submissive enjoys what was done to him, he can still feel horrified later when he considers it without the pleasure chemicals flooding his brain.”

“I’m not horrified,” he denied, frowning. “Maybe more just…surprised.”

“That it wasn’t torture? That you didn’t hate it?” Neh’sa asked when he fell silent.

“I don’t know.” He frowned, looking away from her and she saw that muscle jumping in his jaw again. Clearly he was still conflicted about their encounter the day before.

“You did well, Thorn,” she said, putting a note of authority into her voice. It was time to get back to protocol and train him right. “And you’re going to do well today too, I’m certain.”

“Why?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you have planned? More training?”

“Yes, but not exactly like yesterday,” Neh’sa told him. “I just want to put you through your paces and see what we need to work on. If you do well, you’ll earn your collar and I’ll take you with me to the banquet at Club Carnivorous at the end of the week.”

“Club Carnivorous? What the hell is that?” Thorn growled.

“And exclusive, members only club in downtown Opulex for the wealthy elite of Yonnie Six.”

“Of which you’re one?” He smirked. “But you don’t even own your own building—doesn’t that make you barely middle-income by Yonnie Six standards?”

Neh’sa saw that he was being sarcastic and she started to reply in kind before she realized what she was doing. She was falling into easy banter with him—treating him again like a lover instead of a sub.

“My financial matters are not your concern, Thorn,” she said sternly. “What is your concern is earning your collar so you can accompany me at the end of the week to the club. Do you think you’ll be able to do that?”

He lifted his chin and the motes in his blue and green eyes began to dance more quickly.

“Beyond a doubt, Mistress,” he growled.

“You must submit to me in all things. Remember—you’re a representative of me when we go out in public. If you misbehave, you’ll damage my reputation.” Neh’sa spoke sternly.

“Yes, Mistress—I understand.” He nodded firmly.

“Good—then let’s get started.”

* * * * *

Neh’sa seemed to regret what had happened between them the night before because the moment they got up, she was all business. Apparently she had ordered clothing in Thorn’s size the night before at some point because that morning the closet in the room she had designated as his was stocked.

Thorn pulled on a fresh pair of tight black leather trousers—crotchless again, he noticed with a grimace as he fastened them.

“Do you dislike your new trousers?” Neh’sa asked sharply, probably seeing the face he was making.

Thorn cleared his throat. “I was just hoping for more, uh, coverage after the auction, Mistress.”

“Here—you may wear this, at least while we’re at home alone together.” She gave him a small black loincloth that matched the trousers. It hung over his shaft and balls, hiding them from view—barely. “I have to have complete access to the more sensitive parts of your anatomy during your training.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Thorn said as he fixed the cloth in place. “So I suppose I’ll have to take this off when we’re in public?”

“I’ll need you on display when we go to the banquet,” Neh’sa told him. “The size and erectness of a body-slave’s shaft can either shame his Mistress or bring her honor.” She eyed the bulge under the black loincloth. “I believe you’ll do the latter with no problem.”

“Why thank you, Mistress.” Thorn smiled at her sardonically. “I’ll do my best to please.”

“Make no mistake, Thorn, the only way you will ‘please’ me with your shaft is by displaying it when we go out in public,” she said sharply. “It’s time you started behaving like a proper body-slave. Eyes down and follow me.”

Thorn felt a soft growl rising in his throat and he tamped it back down with difficulty. It wasn’t so much that he minded taking orders from her—it was that he didn’t mind enough. That was what put his back up. Not that he actually wanted to be submissive—he didn’t, it was just part of this mission he couldn’t avoid. Still, a little voice in the back of his mind wondered if he would have avoided obeying even if he could. Neh’sa was so fucking sexy and confident when she was giving orders…

The idea filled him with a maelstrom of confusing emotions and he remembered of what she’d told him about “sub-drop.” Had that really been what was wrong with him the night before? Had he somehow enjoyed allowing her to penetrate him—to dominate him—so much that the sudden withdrawal of his Mistress had caused the state of depression and mental fogginess, not to mention incapacitating him physically?

Surely not, he told himself. I must have had some kind of short-acting virus, maybe a reaction to the Yonnie Six air or atmosphere…

But there didn’t seem to be a reason why the only thing that had made him feel better was the touch of his Mistress’s body against his own. Gods, he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to do it again but the feel of her soft curves pressed against him had been amazing. And the way she had spread her legs and let him touch her—let him make her come as he sucked her nipples—had blown his mind. Thorn couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such an intense sexual encounter and he couldn’t help longing for her again…longing for more…

Stop it, he told himself fiercely. You’re here undercover—you have a job to do. And even if you weren’t, you know you can’t ever allow yourself to become too deeply involved with a female. It’s not safe. You might hurt her!

“…have another piece of equipment to fit you with.” Neh’sa’s voice broke into his illicit thoughts as she brought him to the training room. She opened a tall cabinet which held an array of long black leather harnesses and straps and deliberated before choosing one. “This should fit you—it’s the largest one I have.”

She put the criss-crossing leather harness on him and adjusted it until it was tight. It made a black leather X across his chest and back while leaving most of his muscular form bare.

“There—that’s good.” She nodded in approval.

“What about shoes…Mistress?” Thorn asked, looking down at his bare feet.

“You’ll remain barefoot while in my domicile. When we go out, you’ll be given appropriate footwear,” Neh’sa told him. Opening another cabinet, she picked out a long, black flexible crop. “Now turn to face the viewer and look at yourself. We need to work on your posture.”

Thorn hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with his posture but he turned to face the 3-D viewer anyway and stared at himself. A tall, muscular male with mismatched eyes and tight leather trousers stared back at him.

Thorn’s heart clenched at the sight of himself dressed in the leather fetish wear. Did he look more like a body-slave than he had at the auction yesterday? And was it really just yesterday that Neh’sa had bought him? It seemed so much longer…

He let his eyes slip from his own large reflection to his Mistress’s much smaller one. Today Neh’sa had dressed herself in a short black leather dress cinched tight at the waist and open in the front to show a pair of red lace panties. Thorn could see the outline of her plump pussy lips under the thin material and his mouth watered when he remembered how soft and wet she was…how good she tasted…

“Chin up!” Neh’sa barked, using the flat end of the crop to tap sharply at his chin. “Shoulders back. Hands behind your back and legs spread for inspection.”

Inspection? Thorn wondered what she was inspecting as she stalked around him, her thigh-high black boots tapping lightly with each step. Every once in a while she would touch him—either stroking him with the flat end of her crop or running one small, soft hand over his body in a way that made him shiver.

Gods, she was gorgeous—so tiny and yet so fierce! He wanted to scoop her up into his arms and take her mouth as he had the night before—wanted to kiss her breathless and then take her to bed where he would cover her petite body with his own larger one and fill her completely…

“What are you thinking, slave?” Neh’sa demanded, meeting his eyes in the viewer.

Thorn cleared his throat. “You, uh, probably don’t want to know, Mistress,” he said dryly.

“Of course I want to know. I can tell it’s something interesting because those bright sparks in your eyes are dancing all over the place,” she purred. “Now tell me—what exactly were you thinking just now that put that smirk on your face when you were supposed to be standing still for inspection?”

“I was fantasizing about penetrating you, Mistress,” he growled, letting his eyes go half-lidded with lust. “About how good it would feel to have you under me while I filled your sweet pussy with my cock.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Is that right? Well Thorn, I think such naughty fantasies must be punished. Assume the position!”

“What?” Thorn looked at her, frowning. “What position?”

Neh’sa put a hand between his shoulder blades and pushed him closer to the viewer until he was only a few feet from it.

“Bend forward, hands flat on the viewer,” she told him harshly. “Then spread your legs.”

Wondering what was coming next, Thorn did as she said. If she thought she was going to spank him with that little crop of hers—well, she was welcome to do it. But such a small pain wouldn’t faze him in the least. In fact, nothing short of another fire whip to his scarred back could do that. He wondered if he ought to at least pretend to be in pain when she struck him—to keep up the illusion that he was an obedient slave. Of course—

“You think I’m going to spank you or paddle you, don’t you?” Neh’sa demanded in a soft, silky tone that made Thorn instantly wary.

“Well, it had occurred to me, Mistress,” he said cautiously.

“But you’ve told me time and again that pain doesn’t bother you,” Neh’sa reminded him. “Except between your shoulder blades but we’ve established that as a hard limit, so I can’t go there. I can, however,” she continued before he could replay. “Go here.”

Without warning her small hand shot between his legs from behind and suddenly she was holding his balls in her hand in a very firm grip.

“Mistress!” Thorn’s voice came out sounding hoarse.

“Hmm—I dare say this is a pain that will bother you. At least a little,” she murmured sarcastically and for just a moment Thorn actually thought she meant to squeeze and bring him to his knees. Because she was right—there were some kinds of pain a male simply couldn’t ignore.

Instead, though, Neh’sa released her grip on his sac and began to tickle the sensitive area, using just the tips of her soft little fingers. Then she reached further between his legs and stroked his now-hard shaft several times, drawing a low groan from Thorn’s throat.

“Now you see the reason for the special trousers,” Neh’sa murmured, still stroking him.

“So you can jerk me off any hour of the day or night?” Thorn demanded through gritted teeth. Though he didn’t like to admit it, this situation was turning him on—he’d never had a female push him up against a wall and stroke him this way before. It was fucking sexy, especially since, if he’d wanted to, he could have thrown her over one shoulder and carried her straight to bed to have his way with her. But he couldn’t do that—he would never take a female against her will.

Also he didn’t want her to stop what she was doing.

“I’m not jerking you off, Thorn,” she whispered, still stroking. “In fact, you had the last orgasm you’re going to for quite a while yesterday during your first training session.”

“What?” Thorn demanded. Her soft little hand was enflaming him—his shaft was so hard it felt like he could fuck through a plasti-steel wall—he was dying to come. And now she was telling him he couldn’t?

“You heard me—I control your orgasms now. You’re going to have to earn them, Thorn.” She smiled at him. “Which means you need to be very good and very obedient if you want one.”

“I…” He licked his lips. “I don’t—

“And if you’re thinking you’ll help yourself—well, just try.” Using the long crop, she twitched the loincloth to one side and nodded at his throbbing cock. “Go on—try to touch yourself.”

Thorn reached for himself, almost reflexively. But the moment his hand touched his erect shaft, he felt a sharp, electrical shock in his fingertips.

“Ow!” Grimacing, he pulled his hand away. He had forgotten the non-contact bracelets.

“I think you can see the hope of touching yourself again is useless,” Neh’sa told him sternly. “I want you, as much as possible, to be in a constant state of arousal. Which is why I’ll do this…” She grasped his thick shaft again and stroked several times—long, slow strokes that went from the root of his cock all the way to the flaring crown. “Anytime I want,” she concluded.

“Mistress—” Thorn began hoarsely.

“I might even do this.” Leaning over him, Neh’sa put out her small, pink tongue and swiped delicately over the broad head of his cock. The soft, hot heat of her mouth made Thorn’s hips jerk with need.

“Gods, Mistress—you’re a fucking sadist!” he growled.

“No—I just have to find a way to control you besides pain,” Neh’sa told him, looking up into his eyes. “And pleasure is the next logical option.” She straightened up. “Welcome to the world of tease and denial, Thorn. Follow me.”

Cock throbbing, Thorn took his hands off the viewer and straightened up stiffly, well aware of the awkward tent he was making in the black loin-cloth. Gods, did she really want him at this level of arousal all the time? It would fucking kill him! And it made the fire inside him so much harder to control when he was aroused.

Where was the sweet Neh’sa who had let him hold her and pleasure her the night before—who had knelt before him and treated his wounds? Somehow she had disappeared to be replaced by Mistress Neh’sanna who was every bit as ruthless as Thorn had imagined she would be when he had first agreed to take this mission.

And yet…despite his irritation and sexual frustration, he couldn’t help admiring her. She was tougher than he’d thought. Despite her petite size, she wasn’t afraid to take him on, even though he was so much bigger than her. And the touch of her small, soft hands still affected him in a way no other female’s touch ever had.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself sternly. Doesn’t matter how she affects you—it’s better to ignore it. Ignore the feelings she raises inside you. Don’t let her get to you—you’re only here to get the information from the Library of All Knowledge and as soon as you do, you’re leaving.

He’d allowed his new Mistress to get under his skin, Thorn admitted to himself. For a little while during that first night, he’d been acting like a true body-slave and had almost forgotten his real purpose here. Well, he wouldn’t let it happen again. He made up his mind to consider everything she did to him as just another form of torture, the same as the blood snails or the fire whip which had been used on him in his former missions.

He wouldn’t let his heart be touched again.

Neh’sa seemed to have made the same promise to herself because she kept up the persona of the strong, remote Mistress perfectly and he didn’t see the soft, vulnerable female who had allowed him to take her to bed and pleasure and cuddle her again.

At least, not for almost a week…

Chapter Eleven

Sovereign Ysldred X’izith paced around the small, irregularly shaped room which seemed to be made of some kind of reddish rock. He was the leader of the Hive, an insectile race of beings from beyond the Void, and Brynn found herself watching him now, with the same horror as the first time she’d seen him without his disguise.

But how am I seeing him? she thought, shuddering. And why?

She had no answers—just the image of the Sovereign pacing around the red rock room in slow, measured strides.

In Earth terms, he most resembled a cross between a cockroach and a wasp, with the long hard shell-like wings of the former and the narrow waist and stinger of the latter. His head, bulbous and triangular, resembled that of an ant with its curving, serrated mandibles, mobile, twitching antennae, and huge black, soulless eyes. His entire body was shiny black slashed with crimson and his long, chitinous legs were lined with coarse, wiry hairs and tipped with gripping claws.

Now he was missing one of his long, thin arms and when he turned his head, Brynn could see that one eye was only an empty socket. The long, insectile abdomen at the bottom of his body was twisted with scar tissue and the black breeding barb he had longed to sink deep inside her appeared withered. But for all his injuries, he was alive…still alive, Brynn saw with horror.

On a raised stone platform beside him sat several gem-like stones. Two were small and purple—about the size and shape of the Earth candy called M&Ms which Brynn’s new friends had given her to try. The third stone was bigger—the size of a human palm. It glowed green with some strange, alien energy that made Brynn shiver for some reason.

“My Sovereign,” came the buzzing voice of one of the Hive’s sentient workers. “My Sovereign, good news! Good news!”

“What is it?” Sovereign X'izith snapped in an angry tone as the worker came into view. It looked like a slightly smaller version of the Sovereign himself although its wings were longer and lighter—more like a dragonfly’s wings, Brynn thought numbly.

“It has to do with the latest scouting expedition we sent out.” The worker groomed its long antennae excitedly. “One of the scouts brought back the most extraordinary sample—”

“What good are samples to me?” X'izith demanded. “When the females they are getting samples from are forever out of my reach behind the energy shield those blasted Kindred have erected around Earth?”

“But my Sovereign we have found such a female—”

“I need more than one female and you know it!” X'izith’s tone was surly. “Not that I will enjoy breeding them with my barb in this state.” He gestured to the withered husk of his once long and sleek breeding barb. “It will be agony but I must do it—the royal grubs must be implanted in order for my successor to be born. In order that the Hive may live forever.”

“Yes, my Sovereign but what if I told you we had found a female who can be bred more than once?”

“What are you talking about?” X'izith demanded. “No female can be bred more than once. They cannot stand more because the grubs kill their hosts as they eat their way out after gestation. That is why we need many of the Earth females—hundreds or thousands. But we cannot even get one!”

“But what if I told you we had found a female whose genetic results suggest she could withstand the gestation of the grubs and birth them naturally?” the worker asked excitedly. “This same female could be bred over and over—she could be used for years or at least until we find a way around the energy shield the Kindred Mothership is generating around the Earth.”

Sovereign X'izith’s antenna perked up.

“The ten’sora?” he asked. “You have found a ten’sora? I thought such females were only legend.”

“This legend is true, my Sovereign!” the worker nodded rapidly. “We have tested her DNA—the ten’sora exists!’

“Say you so?” X'izith buzzed. “And can this female be used for the royal grubs?”

“Both royal and common, my Sovereign,” the worker promised. “The ten’sora is able to bear multiple litters of both. So she is the only one we need to transport—at least for now.”

“But how are we to transport her? Getting even one female past the shield—”

“Will be possible as soon as the scholar-workers have finished their study of the E’lo transport stones and are able to make them work.” The worker came forward and groomed the stump where Sovereign X'izith’s fourth arm had been, nibbling it tenderly with his mandibles to stimulate blood flow.

“They have told me they are close to such a revelation,” X'izith said, musing. “I thought it would do us no good as the stones are able to transport only one. But now, if what you say is true—if there truly is a female who can bear brood after brood of grubs without being destroyed from the inside out…”

“It is true, my Sovereign,” the worker promised, ceasing his grooming for a moment. “As soon as the stones are working, we shall have the ten’sora —the only female we need for now. I swear it.”

“The Nameless Ones, Gods of Nothing, grant it shall be,” X'izith buzzed. “That the Hive shall live forever…”

That the Hive shall live forever…that the Hive shall live forever…

The words seemed burned into Brynn’s mind. They rang in her head, tolling like a giant bell, tolling out destruction and doom and death…

“Brynn? Princess? Wake up, little one—wake up.”

A big, warm hand was shaking her and Brynn opened her eyes to Varin, her lover and mate, leaning over her. He was looking at her anxiously, his pale bronze eyes filled with worry as he stroked her cheek.

“You were shaking the whole bed,” he told her. “It must have been an awful dream.”

The bed—we’re in bed together. Safe in our suite in the Mothership, she suddenly remembered.

“Yes, safe—you’re safe here with me,” he murmured through their link, his mental voice comforting. “Everything’s all right, little one. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Oh, Varin!” She threw her arms around his neck, a sob caught in her throat.

He pulled her close and stroked her trembling back and shoulders with his big, warm hands, caressing her as gently as though she was made of crystal and might break if he was too rough.

But Brynn needed reassurance that he was really there—that he was really real. She clung to him desperately and pressed her face against the side of his neck, breathing in his spicy, masculine scent. She could feel the warmth of his big body through the thin, silky nightdress she wore but still she needed more.

“Tight, Varin,” she whispered pleadingly. “Hold me tight.”

In response, his massive, muscular arms tightened around her in a gentle squeeze. Then he sat up in bed and lifted her into his lap, cradling her close against his broad, bare chest, surrounding her with himself.

“Want to tell me about it, little one?” he rumbled softly. “Was it a really bad dream?”

“It was but…” Brynn shook her head, her long black hair brushing against his chest. “But I can’t remember it now. All I know is that it was…” She shivered against him uncontrollably. “It was about Sovereign X'izith.”

“Just a nightmare,” Varin murmured, stroking her hair soothingly. “That’s all it was—a nightmare.”

“No,” Brynn shook her head anxiously. “No, it was real—it was true. I don’t know how I know that but I do—I know. Varin…” She looked up at him, tracing his familiar, sharp features in the dim glow of light coming from under the fresher door. “He’s still alive. We thought we killed him but we didn’t—he’s alive!”

Her mate didn’t try to contradict her. Instead, he held her close, cuddling her and soothing her, rocking her as though she was a lost child he wanted to comfort.

Brynn, for her part, closed her eyes and tried to absorb some of the comfort he was offering.

“Varin,” she sent through their link. “It was awful—so awful I don’t even want to think of it. But at the same time I wish I could remember what it was so I could tell someone—maybe Commander Sylvan or someone else on the High Council. It seemed so important but I can’t remember any details now—just the Sovereign standing in a cave with some weird, glowing stones.”

“That may be enough to give Commander Sylvan some information.” Varin’s mental voice was thoughtful. “At least now we know our suspicions are correct and the Sovereign is still alive. It’s a good thing Commander Thornx went on his mission to get the information on the Hive from Yonnie Six.”

“Didn’t you tell me he had to get himself sold as a slave in order to get it?” Brynn asked timidly. Slavery was something her mate knew much about.

Brynn had grown up a princess on Galen, a planet far from the Mothership and Varin, who was a Vision Kindred, had been her slave since birth. For years he had been unable to touch her because of a band he wore around his wrist which gave him jolts of agony if he made even the least amount of skin-to-skin contact with her.

But though he had been forced into his life of slavery, he had been devoted to her from the first. Their love had grown against all odds and now they were the only two people left of her home world. But though being a slave was in Varin’s past, Brynn knew he still had bitter memories of it.

“He did allow himself to be sold as a slave,” he said now, aloud. “I thought it was a poor idea myself, but as I am not part of the Kindred High Council and was only testifying about the Hive, my thoughts were not much taken into consideration.” He sighed heavily. “Even worse, I’m afraid the Yonnite Mistresses who own only male slaves are supposed to be a cruel and brutal bunch. I saw a holo image of the female Commander Thornx was going to be sold to and she looked…” He shook his head. “Well, let’s just say he’s not going to have an easy time of it.”

“What do you mean?” Brynn asked. Then she caught a mental image from her mate’s mind—a petite female with long, wavy black hair and a stern look in her dark eyes. She was wearing a tight leather outfit and between her legs was strapped… Goddess, what is that?” Brynn wondered.

“It’s a phallus.” Varin’s mental voice was grim. “It’s used for male penetration.”

“Male pene—” Brynn broke off and stared at him, wide-eyed in the dark. “But why…why would a female want to…to do that to a male?” she asked, feeling her cheeks get hot with a blush.

Her own entry into the world of sex had been filled with confusion and pain, due to her people’s cruel and archaic customs and a dose of the blood honey she’d been given when she had been a prisoner of the Hive. Only now, with Varin’s loving patience, was she beginning to feel less conflicted about her normal sexual urges. But surely the urge for a female to penetrate a male couldn’t be normal—could it?

“It’s normal on Yonnie Six, apparently,” Varin murmured. “Normal enough that Commander Thornx will quite probably have to endure it. He will be a slave, after all—he will have no say in the matter.”

“That’s awful,” Brynn whispered. “What if I had wished to do such a thing to you when you were my slave? You would have hated me!”

“I could never hate you, Princess.” Varin stroked a lock of hair away from her eyes and kissed her lightly on the lips. “And if you wished to penetrate me…well, my body is yours to do with as you please.”

“Really?” Brynn looked at him, wide-eyed. “You’d really let me do…do that to you?”

“I do it to you all the time,” he pointed out with a soft chuckle. “And you don’t hate me for it.”

“That’s true,” Brynn admitted, blushing. “But we…we do that because we love each other.”

“Well, a slave may grow to love his Mistress,” Varin remarked thoughtfully. “I suppose Commander Thornx may feel for his Mistress as I felt for you all those years, though I could never touch you because of that damn inhibitor band I wore.”

“I just don’t know if you could have loved me if I was…was penetrating you like that.” Just the thought made her blush again, her cheeks growing warm with the mental image of herself dominating and taking Varin as he so often took her.

In fact, she and her mate made love often. Due, perhaps, to traces of the blood honey left in her system, she needed to feel his shaft inside her, breeding her long and hard, on a very regular basis. Just thinking of it made her pussy feel hot and tingly and needy but she didn’t like to say anything about it since Varin had filled her multiple times just before they’d gone to sleep that night.

“I’d love you no matter what,” Varin whispered, kissing her again. “Even if you wished to penetrate me, Mistress. My body is yours to command—yours to do with as you wish—you know that.” He stroked her cheek. “Which means you shouldn’t feel shy to ask for what you need right now.”

Brynn shifted in his arms, biting her lip. It seemed wrong to her that she should always be asking Varin to service her sexually though he never seemed to mind. Possibly because she’d been raised in a convent with no knowledge of sex other than the vague idea that it was wrong and immoral, she still had problems asking for what she needed. But, Goddess—she did need it so badly. Needed to feel her mate inside her, filling her up, thrusting his thick shaft deep in her pussy to stretch her inner walls and open her completely before he spurted his seed deep inside her hungry womb…

“Then ask me for it.” Varin’s mental voice was rough with lust and Brynn realized, with embarrassment, that he’d heard everything she was just thinking.

“You know I want to,” she murmured, drawing aimless patterns on his broad, bare chest with her fingers. “It’s just hard for me. Hard to ask for what I… for what I need.”

“I love to give you what you need, Princess,” he protested.

“Even though I need it over and over again?” Brynn asked timidly.

“Even though,” he agreed, kissing her gently on the mouth.

“Olivia thinks I need you to make love to me so often because my body craves your seed – because it wants to have your baby,” Brynn said. Liv, who was a nurse, was one of the few people she dared to confide in about her insatiable appetites.

“That could be,” Varin murmured. His big hand drifted down to cup one of her breasts through her thin nightdress. Idly, he teased her nipple, sending a hot rush of need through Brynn’s entire body. “What do you think?” he asked her. “Do you want me to give you big belly… To fill your wet little pussy with my seed and make you pregnant, little one?”

Brynn felt a shiver of desire run through her and his soft, dirty words.

“I… I don’t know,” she murmured. “I just know I always feel like I’m asking you for more and more. But I thought it was the male who was supposed to do the asking, the wanting.”

“Oh, I wanted you plenty, Princess,” Varin growled softly. He pulled down the top of her nightdress, the better to stroke and tease her bare breasts. “I just couldn’t touch you for so long because of that damn inhibitor band I wore.”

“Then touch me now,” Brynn begged. “Show me what you wanted to do to me… How you wanted to take me all those times before we could actually touch.”

“You want me to take the lead?” Varin asked her, his pale bronze eyes glowing in the dimness. “Want me to show you how much I want you, little one?”

“I want you to use me,” Brynn whispered breathlessly. “Use my body for your own pleasure, the way you’re always telling me to use yours. Take me, Varin—please.”

“As my princess commands,” he growled, and took her mouth in a hungry kiss.

Brynn felt herself melting against him, her body opening for his. Goddess, she loved him so much! She could never get enough of his body against hers, his big hands on her skin, his mouth and tongue tasting her all over.

As if reading her mind, Varin pulled her nightdress the rest of the way off, leaving her completely bare. Then he laid her in the middle of the bed and spread her thighs wide.

But when he started to kiss his way down her trembling stomach, Brynn tried to stop him by tugging at his hair.

He looked up at her. “You’re stopping me already? I thought you wanted me to use you, Princess – to do whatever I wanted to with you?”

“I do.” Brynn could feel her cheeks burning. “But… well… I mean, we made love so many times right before we went to bed. I’m still kind of… messy down there.”

“I know you are.” He gave her a slow, hot smile. “I’m the one who made you messy, Princess. So shouldn’t I be the one to clean you up?”

“But… you don’t mind?” Brynn asked.

“Hell no, I don’t mind,” he growled. “I’m going to lick my come out of your pussy, baby. Lick you nice and clean so I can fill you up again. And you’re going to lie still and let me do it.”

Brynn felt her stomach quiver with desire at the soft growl of dominance in his deep voice. She let her body relax and her thighs drifted apart, waiting for his tongue.

“Yes Varin,” she whispered breathlessly. “I’m yours – do whatever you want with me.”

“I will,” he promised in that same dark, dangerous voice. And then he was between her legs, spreading her inner folds open with his hot, wet tongue, tasting her, licking her clean as he had promised.

Brynn gasped and buried her fingers in his thick hair. This was the act she was still too shy to ask for, although she loved it when Varin went down on her. He did it with such enthusiasm, such hunger, lapping her pussy with long, slow strokes of his tongue one minute and then lashing her clit with rapid little flicks that drove her crazy with lust the next. Brynn thought she knew why he enjoyed this so much—her new friends Olivia and Sophia had confided to her that Kindred males needed to taste their mates.

“It’s not just a preference or an inclination like it is with Earth guys,” Olivia had told her. “It’s an actual biological imperative. Kindred males actually need to go down.”

“And they love it too,” Sophia had added with a giggle. “If you could see all the bite marks I have on my inner thighs… Of course Sylvan is a Blood Kindred. Not all of them need to bite – but all of them do need to taste their mates.”

It certainly seemed like a need to Brynn. The way Varin wrapped his long muscular arms around her thighs to split her wide, the way he pressed his tongue as deeply into her as he could, lapping from her well, before sucking her clit into his mouth to torture it sweetly with the tip of his tongue. It seemed to be fulfilling his own desire as well as hers.

“Ahhh, Varin!” she gasped, bucking her hips up to meet his mouth. She was already up and over the edge of pleasure as she moaned his name, her first orgasm rushing over her in a warm wave. He could always make her come this way, come so long and hard. But though she felt her pleasure overwhelming her, Brynn still longed to have him inside her. To feel his long, thick shaft pumping deep to fill her with his seed.

Her mate must have felt her need, because he finished lapping her pussy and moved up to cover her smaller body with his much larger one.

Brynn moaned softly, loving the feel of his big hard body pressing her into the mattress. They didn’t often use this position because Varin worried that his muscular bulk might crush her. He most often had her ride astride him, looking down into his face as she straddled him and took him deep inside her from above.

But tonight he seemed to be taking her at her word, using her the way she wanted him to, taking what he needed. Brynn was more than happy to give it to him.

“Are you ready, little one?” he growled hoarsely. “Ready for me to fill your little pussy with my cock and pump my come deep in your belly?”

“Yes Varin,” she whispered breathlessly. “Are… Are you going to try to make me pregnant? Are you going to breed me deep?”

“As deep as I can little one,” he growled. “Just want to make sure you’re ready for it.”

“I am,” she promised eagerly. “I am Varin – take me. Breed me. Breed me deep.”

“Gods,” he groaned. “I love to hear you beg for it like that little one. Love to hear you beg for my cock inside you.”

Then he spread Brynn’s thighs and pushed them back almost to her chest, putting her calves over his broad shoulders and nearly bending her double.

Brynn gave a low gasp—this was a new position for her and she’d never felt so open, so vulnerable to her huge, muscular mate before.

But though Varin was so much bigger and stronger than her, she didn’t fear him. She only wanted more.

“This is going to let me get really deep inside you,” he murmured hoarsely and she felt him lining up the broad head of his cock with the soft, vulnerable entrance of her pussy. “I’ll be able to plant my seed right against the mouth of your womb. Better chance of giving you a big belly that way.”

“Yes Varin—yes please,” Brynn heard herself moaning as his thick shaft slid all the way into her. She loved the feeling of being completely helpless under her mate, of being completely at his mercy as he did what he wished. And, oh Goddess, he was getting into her so deep. Already she could feel the broad head of his shaft kissing the mouth of her womb but she wanted more – wanted to feel him moving inside her, taking her, fucking her, breeding her.

“You like this, little one?” Varin growled as he began to move inside her. “You like to feel me taking you… filling you up… breeding your sweet little pussy?”

“You know I… know I do,” Brynn moaned. “Take me Varin— take me as hard as you want to… as hard as you need to. Make me yours and fill me up the way you wanted to for so long before we could touch.”

“Gods, your sweet little pussy is so tight around me,” he groaned. “I used to think about it when I stroked myself, used to wonder what you would feel like wrapped around my shaft, even though I knew it was forbidden.”

“Because you were my slave,” Brynn whispered breathlessly.

“Because I was your slave,” he agreed. “Because a slave can’t pound his Mistresses’ pussy… can’t fuck her and fill her with his seed… can’t get her pregnant with his baby.”

He leaned forward, pressing her knees hard to her chest and kissed her ruthlessly making Brynn want him even more.

“I’m still your slave, Brynn,” he murmured hoarsely, his pale bronze eyes blazing into hers. “But I’m fucking you anyway and soon I’m going to come deep in your pussy. Going to fill you with my seed and give you a big belly, my Princess.”

“Goddess, Varin!”

She reached for him, wanting to tangle her fingers in his hair. But Varin captured both of her small wrists in one of his large hands and pressed them over her head.

The message was clear – she was to hold still and submit to his fucking. She was his now, his completely to do with as he wished and she loved it – loved the feeling of being so completely owned by her mate.

Suddenly the delicious feeling of being penetrated so deeply was too much. Brynn felt herself coming again, coming even harder this time, her inner wall shuddering and quaking around his thick shaft, milking him, trying to get his seed.

“God’s Brynn, I can feel you coming… Coming all around me,” Varin groaned. “It makes me want to come too, to fill you up.”

“Do it,” Brynn begged him. “Do it, Varin—fill me with your seed! I want you so much, need you so much!”

With a low roar, he did as she begged. Pressing forward, he thrust until the broad head of his shaft was directly against the mouth of her womb and then Brynn felt pulse after pulse of hot wetness as he filled her as he had promised.

Her pleasure crested again, the orgasm overtaking her once more and going on and on in a seemingly never-ending flow that left her breathless and aching beneath him. She had never felt so used before, so taken—it was a delicious feeling, addicting. One she felt she could never get enough of.

At last Varin finished and released her. He withdrew slowly and took her in his arms, cuddling her close to his broad chest. Brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead, he kissed her tenderly.

“Was that all right? Was it too much?” he asked softly.

“No.” Brynn shook her head and gave a soft, satisfied sigh. “It was just right. Just what I needed. I think I can go back to sleep now and hopefully I won’t have any more of those awful dreams.”

“We’ll tell Commander Sylvan about your dream tomorrow,” he promised. “But for now let’s rest and sleep.”

“Yes,” Brynn agreed, snuggling closer to him. Her body felt deliciously worn out, and her pussy was filled with his hot cream. It was a comforting sensation—a feeling of permanence and belonging that she couldn’t find anywhere but in his arms. “I love you, Varin,” she whispered, kissing his rough cheek. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too, little one,” he growled sleepily. “Rest now.”

With a sigh of contentment, Brynn closed her eyes and did as he said.

But the last thought that followed her down into her dreamless slumber was of Commander Thornx and his mission to Yonnie Six. How was he doing, she wondered. And could he ever learn to love his Mistress as Varin had come to love her?

Brynn didn’t know and before she could begin to formulate an answer, sleep took her and she knew no more.

Chapter Twelve

The whole next week Thorn was an exemplary slave. He had to be because Neh’sa had decided to demand perfection in all things. She had to overcome their bad beginning and train him correctly, she told herself. Had to make certain they were following protocol.

He learned to walk on a leash a few steps behind Neh’sa, to keep his eyes downcast when speaking to a Mistress, rather than meeting her gaze challengingly with his own, how to serve at a banquet, and various other duties a well-bred body-slave must know.

Neh’sa continued to bathe him and dry him and wash his hair and in time, Thorn stopped protesting that he could do these things for himself. She also rubbed healing balm on his back every night to loosen the tight scars the fire whip had left on his skin.

Neh’sa loved to rub and stroke the soothing balm over Thorn’s broad shoulders and use her healing touch on him, though her slight power worked better on fresh wounds than old ones. Still, she could tell that the tight scars were beginning to loosen some in response to her treatment. It gave her satisfaction to erase the marks of cruelty from his back and take away some of his pain.

It was the quietest part of their day together and often Thorn would pull one of her feet around to massage it with his big, warm hands while she worked on his shoulders. Sometimes they talked and sometimes they were silent but Neh’sa found herself looking forward to their quiet time together more and more.

The big Kindred asked more than once to be allowed to bathe her and rub her with soothing lotion as well, but though she allowed him to help her dress and undress, Neh’sa preferred to bathe herself instead of allowing Thorn to help. Somehow the idea of having his big hands all over her body again, especially while she was wet and naked in the tub, seemed like a dangerous idea.

Of course, bathing him, caring for him, and healing his old wounds was just a way to get him used to his Mistress handling his body.

Or Neh’sa she told herself.

But in fact, she came to cherish the time they spent every evening before bedtime with her sitting in a comfortable chair before the fire and the big Kindred sitting between her legs. It brought a kind of bonding she had never felt with any of the other slaves she’d trained—not that she would admit it, even to herself.

During the day she continued his sexual training, teasing him in order to keep his cock constantly hard. She told herself it was necessary to help him practice giving control of his body to his Mistress—and it was, though she’d never taken sexual training so far with any other slave before. But since pain didn’t work on Thorn, he had to be punished and kept in line some other way—didn’t he? Neh’sa told herself he did and continued to push him—and push herself in ways she never had before.

She made certain she was always wearing clothing that was sexually stimulating—thin, silky robes that showed the outlines of her nipples or short skirts which allowed her new body-slave to see her panties as well as the more traditional tight leather clothing which molded to her curves.

In addition to these visual displays, she included manual and sometimes oral stimulation. Often she would take the big Kindred by the cock and lead him from room to room, or stroke him until precum flowed freely from his shaft. Sometimes she would even lap away the salty liquid or take as much of his shaft in her mouth as she could while she made him watch but she never, never let him come…

“Gods, Mistress!” Thorn groaned one day when she had him manacled and helpless to the agony cross in her training room with his legs spread and his shaft exposed. “You’ll be the death of me. Please—I need to come.”

“Begging won’t help you,” Neh’sa told him sternly as she stroked the long, thick shaft and lapped at his broad, leaking head with her soft pink tongue. Goddess he looked gorgeous on display like this—all his masculine beauty spread out just for her. “You’ll just have to endure in silence. You’re lucky I don’t lock your cock away in a cage the way some Mistresses do to their slaves.”

“Why don’t you?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Is that not sadistic enough for you?”

“Cock cages keep a body-slave from getting hard at all,” Neh’sa lectured softly. “I want to see you always erect, Thorn. Always in need. That way I know you’ll always be a good and compliant submissive.”

“So a slave must be always kept in a state of sexual agony?” he demanded. “You don’t think he would ever obey his Mistress out of any other motivation? Out of love?”

The word hung in the air between them and for a moment Neh’sa couldn’t think what to say. Heloth had loved her—he had died for her. What good was love when it only brought pain?

“No,” she said sharply, frowning at the big Kindred as she took a firmer grip on his cock. “No, I don’t believe there can be love between a Mistress and her slave. Only obedience and submission which is what I expect of you, Thorn.”

“I see.”

The big Kindred hung his head as he watched her stroke him—her small hands starting at the thick root of his cock, sliding upwards to the flaring crown, and then down again. His wrists were fixed above his head at the corners of the large X shaped cross and his ankles were bound below—he was helpless in her hands and Neh’sa knew he knew it.

“Gods, Mistress,” he groaned softly. “Do what you will with me—I am yours.”

“That’s very good, Thorn.” Neh’sa was pleased with his submission until he looked up at her, mismatched eyes blazing.

“But I’m warning you, Neh’sa,” he growled, his tone changing from compliant to defiant in an instant. “If we’re ever away from here—away from this fucking planet where males are forced to be submissive—it’s going to be another story.”

“Oh?” Neh’sa raised an eyebrow at him and looked at him coolly though her heart was drumming against her ribs for some reason. “And why is that, Thorn?”

“Because if I ever get the chance to turn the tables on you, I fucking well will, Mistress.” His voice was a low, sexual rumble that seemed to do things to her insides. “Then you’re going to be the one submitting and I promise you, it’s not going to be pretty.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re never leaving Yonnie Six,” Neh’sa said as lightly as she could. “Now, no more talking, Thorn. Just hold still and take your punishment like a good slave. I’m going to show you some new knots I learned recently.”

She got out a silky black cord and began wrapping it around his heavy balls and the base of his cock as she continued stroking him, making sure he was painfully hard. Thorn was silent and uncomplaining as she tied him, though his big, muscular body was tense, every muscle tight with the sexual torture she was inflicting. The strange sparks danced frantically in his eyes as he watched her.

But though he spoke not another word, Neh’sa could still feel his eyes on her and his words kept echoing in her head. They stirred something inside her—some desire which she’d thought was dead after Heloth died in the riots. There was a game she’d used to play sometimes with her first and most beloved body-slave—a game they simply called “switch.” When they played, Heloth was the Master and Neh’sa was the slave to be held down and tied up, to be dominated in whatever way her Master saw fit…

Neh’sa pushed the illicit memories away. She had been young then—young and stupid and not sure of what she wanted. Now she was an established Domme and a Mistress who had trained many, many slaves in the proper ways of submission and she liked it like that—liked being in charge. She had no desire to submit anymore.

None at all, truly—or so she told herself…

Other than that one exchange, Thorn learned his lessons very well. And despite her departure into more extreme sexual training, Neh’sa retained her stern Mistress demeanor and otherwise kept strictly to the training protocol she had established over so many years as a Domme.

Well, except when she allowed him to kiss her panties every night before bed, she admitted to herself. That had gotten completely out of hand.

It was partially her fault, she had to acknowledge. Though she’d told herself she was just training Thorn to be a good body-slave, she’d also enjoyed teasing him. But she hadn’t realized how close he was to snapping when she did…

The first night she’d decided to allow him to kiss her goodnight, she’d worn a pair of panties that were fairly modest—by Yonnie Six standards, anyway. They were pale peach, covering most of her pussy mound but leaving just the top of her slit peeking above the lacy boarder. She’d put them on specifically for the purpose of testing the big Kindred, thinking that it would be a good trial of his control.

She hadn’t realized it would also be a trial of hers.

“Thorn!” She had left him in her small private sitting room where she’d been rubbing the healing balm on his shoulders. Letting him kiss her panties was a spur of the moment idea—they’d been together for three or four days at that point and it seemed like a good thought to let Thorn get used to paying obeisance to his Mistress in this intimate and time-honored Yonnie Six tradition.

Neh’sa had gone to change for bed and had put on the pale peach panties on the spur of the moment. Her heart hammered in her chest and she put a note of authority in her voice as she called him to her bedchamber.

“Thorn, come here at once,” she told him.

“Yes, Mistress?” He’d turned, eyeing her warily. Clearly he wasn’t sure if what was coming next was good or bad—exactly the way she intended him to feel. Anticipating and dealing with his Mistress’s moods was part of what made a good body-slave excellent at his job.

“You’ve been working hard today,” Neh’sa told him as she stood in the doorway to the bedchamber. To go with the panties, she was wearing a silky peach robe, which clearly showed the ripe points of her nipples, and nothing else.

The two of them had been calm and relaxed after her nightly ritual of rubbing the balm into his wounded back. Now Neh’sa felt a surge of excitement as she saw Thorn’s eyes widen and the bright motes started dancing in their blue and green depths as he took in her outfit.

“Thank you, Mistress,” he said hoarsely. “I’m doing my best to learn to be your body-slave.”

“You won’t belong to me—you’ll be going to another Mistress when I find one who’s suitable for you,” Neh’sa told him sternly.

Although where she would find a female dominant enough not to let the big Kindred run all over her was a mystery. Not that she really wanted to—more and more she wished she could keep Thorn all for herself. Which was foolish. A thought she must put from her head. But Thorn’s next words didn’t make it easy.

“I’ll always belong to you, Mistress,” he told her, his eyes flashing. “And to no one else—no matter where you send me.”

Neh’sa felt her heart give a little thump in her chest but she tried to ignore it.

“I want to reward you for your hard work,” she told Thorn. “So you may kiss me goodnight—kiss my panties, you understand. As we discussed earlier, when you first came here.”

His eyes flashed again and his voice dropped to a hoarse growl.

“It would be my pleasure, Mistress,” he murmured, coming forward. He towered over her, his mismatched eyes burning down into hers, making Neh’sa feel small and fragile in a way she wasn’t used to.

“On your knees,” she ordered, wishing her voice didn’t sound so breathless. “You can’t kiss my panties from all the way up there.”

“As you wish, Mistress.” The big Kindred dropped gracefully to his knees before her and put his big hands on her hips. “Gods, been wanting to do this from the minute I first saw you,” he growled and then he was pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her peach panties.

Neh’sa gasped as she felt his hot tongue tracing the slit of her pussy lips right through the thin fabric. This wasn’t supposed to be happening—he was only meant to press a brief, chaste kiss to the fabric of her panties and then pull back—not try to tongue her open right through the thin material!

She knew she ought to stop him but Goddess, it felt so good. She didn’t even reprimand him when he moved a little higher and slipped the tip of his tongue into the top part of her slit, which was showing just above the lace boarder of her panties.

“Thorn!” she exclaimed breathlessly when his tongue sought to travel further down.

“Yes, Mistress.” He looked up at her, his eyes half-lidded with desire. “Do you want me to stop?”

It was the last thing Neh’sa wanted and yet she knew it was necessary. If she let him, the big Kindred would strip her panties down, spread her thighs, and go down on her all night. She couldn’t have that—couldn’t allow him to take charge of the situation. He was already too damn dominant as it was. So she made herself nod her head.

“Yes, that…that will do for tonight,” she whispered breathlessly. “Good night, Thorn.”

He’d licked his lips hungrily. “Good night, Mistress.”

Neh’sa had told herself she wouldn’t repeat the mistake and yet, the very next night she found herself standing in the doorway of her bedchamber wearing an even smaller pair of panties. These had a V-shaped cut in the front which showed almost all of her slit…and gave easier access to her throbbing clit.

She’d told herself she shouldn’t do it, but when she saw Thorn’s eyes go half-lidded with lust at the sight of the tiny pale blue panties which barely hid any of her pussy, she knew she couldn’t help herself.

“Come here, Thorn,” she’d ordered him yet again. “Drop down and kiss my panties.”

He dropped to his knees obligingly and crawled across the floor as sinuous as a great cat. When he got to her, he grasped Neh’sa’s hips and pressed his mouth low to the fabric of her panties.

“That’s good…very good.” Neh’sa could hear the soft breathy tone in her own voice but somehow she couldn’t help it.

“Thank you, Mistress.” Raising his eyes to hers, Thorn allowed the tip of his tongue to start at the v-shaped top of her panties and trace upwards along the exposed slit of her pussy.

Neh’sa couldn’t help moaning as she felt his tongue slip inside her folds to slide gently over the pulsing button of her clit. This was more than a panty kiss and she knew she ought to stop him. But somehow she couldn’t seem to make herself do it.

“Mmm…Mistress,” Thorn growled hungrily, his deep voice throbbing with lust. “I love kissing your panties but I can’t help thinking it would be better for both of us if your pussy was spread open…just a little, while I did it.”

“What…what do you mean, Thorn?” Neh’sa murmured breathlessly. “You…you’re supposed to be kissing my panties—not…not other things,” she pointed out.

“Yes, but the true meaning of the kiss is to pay respect to my Mistress’s feminine core—her pussy,” Thorn argued softly. “With your pussy lips closed, I can’t pay proper respect. So please Mistress, would you part your lips for me and allow me to kiss you again—properly this time?”

His words and the hot look he was giving her were enough to make Neh’sa feel molten below the waist. Goddess, it had been so long since she’d allowed a male to go down on her! Not since her beloved Heloth had died had she felt a male’s tongue between her legs.

And I’m not going to allow it now, she told herself sternly. I won’t really allow him to go down on me—to taste my pussy fully and completely.

Still, letting the big Kindred to kiss her panties—even with her pussy spread open for maximum contact—wasn’t really allowing him to go down. It was just Thorn being a respectful slave, she argued with herself. That was all.

“All…all right,” she heard herself saying. “But only because you asked so nicely, Thorn. And please remember you’re supposed to be kissing my panties—not my pussy.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he growled, his eyes hungry as he watched her slip her fingers down to spread her pussy lips wide—wide enough to reveal her slippery inner folds and the throbbing button of her pink clit.

“Gods, you’re gorgeous,” he rumbled, eyeing her exposed flesh. “Your soft little pussy is so wet, Mistress…so ready for me.”

“Just…just do as you’re supposed to, Thorn,” Neh’sa commanded, rather breathlessly. “Just kiss my panties as a body-slave should.”

“With pleasure, Mistress.” Obediently, he went back to kissing just the fabric of her panties but somehow the tip of his nose kept nudging her exposed clit until Neh’sa felt like she might scream with frustration. She wondered if Thorn was doing this on purpose—maybe getting her back for all the tease and denial she’d been putting him through during his training.

It was entirely possible. Though another body-slave might have been cowed into subservience by her training, Neh’sa had an idea it only inflamed the big Kindred, though he hid it well enough behind a façade of obedience. He would probably welcome the chance to turn the tables on her—in fact she knew he would—he had told her as much. Which was why she really ought to stop this right now…

But before she could end their encounter, his hot mouth moved up and he was kissing her inner folds, just above where the brief panties ended.

“Thorn!” she gasped as he placed a wet, sucking kiss over her throbbing clit and circled it with his tongue. “No—you mustn’t!”

He kissed her a long moment more—drawing out the act before finally allowing her throbbing clit to slip from between his lips.

“Sorry, Mistress.” He looked up at her, his eyes dark with lust. “I just wanted to show my devotion to you—what better way than to worship your soft little cunt with my mouth?”

“You…you’re only supposed to be kissing my panties,” she lectured again. “Not my pussy. I think this was a bad idea—we’d better be getting to bed.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He grinned at her hungrily. “I think that’s an excellent idea. If I take you to bed, it’ll be much easier to spread your thighs and get my tongue deep in that hot little pussy of yours.”

“Thorn, you know that’s not what I meant!” For the first time, Neh’sa struggled to put back on her Mistress persona. For some reason her mind kept going back to her time with Heloth, to the switch game they had played…She could see the sparks whirling in Thorn’s mismatched eyes and she couldn’t help wondering what it might be like if she let him…

But no. She pushed the thought away and ordered the big Kindred to his own bedroom. Then she stripped off the skimpy panties and promised herself she wouldn’t wear anything so revealing again when next she allowed him to kiss her…

Accordingly, Neh’sa had worn a pair of panties that covered her completely the next night. They were made of a thin, see-through silky white material that showed her pussy but kept it covered—exactly what she should have worn, she told herself, from the start.

When she called Thorn to kiss her goodnight and pay obeisance to his Mistress, he did so eagerly—too eagerly in fact.

Pressing his face between her thighs, he’d breathed her in, inhaling deeply as though he couldn’t get enough of her scent. Then he pressed forward hard, lapping and sucking her pussy hungrily through the thin material until Neh’sa gasped and put her hands on his head, though she was unsure if she was trying to stop him or to drag him closer.

“Thorn,” she gasped. “I don’t…don’t think…”

“Need to taste you, Mistress.” He looked up at her, his eyes blazing, the bright motes in them flying so fast they looked like sparks about to catch fire. His shaft was long and hard between his legs, dripping precum and throbbing for release. Looking at that long, angry shaft, Neh’sa couldn’t help thinking that she’d been particularly hard on him that day, edging him closer and closer to orgasm but never allowing him to get there.

She’d strapped him to a chair with his legs spread wide and had spent at least an hour in his lap, pressing her bare breasts against his face as she rubbed her panty-clad pussy against his aching cock. Once or twice she’d allowed him to suck her nipples and she’d even pressed down to allow his rigid shaft to part her soft pussy lips through her panties.

It was much, much farther than she usually went with her male submissives but somehow Neh’sa hadn’t been able to stop. Thorn had groaned and thrust against her until the thin fabric of her underwear had been soaked with both her juices and his precum but she had never allowed him to orgasm…

All these thoughts flashed through her mind and she wondered if she had pushed the big Kindred too far. But before she could say anything, Thorn ripped down the sheer white panties baring her pussy completely.

Pressing his face between her legs, he started taking deep, hungry licks of her wet inner folds, dragging his tongue over her sensitive clit and making Neh’sa gasp in unwanted pleasure.

“Thorn, stop!” she exclaimed. “Stop at once!”

He looked up, but only for a moment and this time she thought the sparks in his eyes had turned to actual flames.

“Not stopping. Need to taste all of your pussy,” he growled, the hunger clear on his face. “Need to bury my face between your legs and feel you coming on my tongue, Mistress.”

“Thorn, no—no!” she gasped but it was too late. One large hand fisted in her panties and he ripped them completely away. Then the big Kindred grasped one of her legs and raised it, putting it over his broad shoulder. Pressing her hard against the wall, he shoved forward, his tongue lashing her sensitive clit over and over before dipping down to invade the tight, wet entrance of her pussy.

“Thorn! Oh Goddess!” Neh’sa gasped. She’d never lost control of a male sub like this before but then, she’d never tried to dominate one that was so intensely Alpha. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to orgasm as he sucked her clit into his hot mouth and teased her ruthlessly.

But she knew she couldn’t let him make her come—not like this, not without her express permission. It would undo days of training and give Thorn the idea that he could take the upper hand whenever he wanted to.

Though part of her was dying to give up and just orgasm on his warm, wet tongue which was currently lashing her helpless pussy, Neh’sa knew she had to be strong. Digging her fingers into his thick hair, she yanked sharply, pulling his head away from her open pussy as well as she could.

“No!” she said, making her voice come out strong and dominant. “No, Thorn! I do not give you permission to make me come. Stop this at once.”

Neh’sa wasn’t sure if it was the hair-pulling or her strict tone that got through to the big Kindred. But for whatever reason, he finally stopped and pulled back.

“Mistress,” he growled, his mouth and cheeks wet with her juices. “Mistress please—you’re pushing me too fucking hard. I feel like…like I might snap at any moment. Either I need to come or I need to make you come. Please.”

Neh’sa realized with a start that his eyes were actually glowing—the flames licking through their mismatched depths so brightly she could see them clearly even in the dimness of her bed chamber. The sight gave her an uneasy feeling and she wondered what it meant. Clearly, Thorn needed a release. Still, she tried to keep her voice firm.

“You haven’t earned an orgasm, Thorn,” she lectured sternly. “In fact, I ought to punish you, not reward you for what you’ve done. You didn’t have permission to lick my pussy and you know it.”

“I know it, Mistress,” he growled hoarsely. “But please, if you’re going to punish me, use pain not pleasure. I can’t fucking be responsible for how I’d respond right now if you pushed me to the edge and didn’t let me come again. The way I’m feeling that would be fucking dangerous.”

Neh’sa was startled to realize he was telling the absolute truth. The sexual tension inside him had reached a breaking point and he was about to tilt over the edge into…what? Violence? Rape?

She didn’t believe that. Despite the way he’d ripped off her panties and tongued her so desperately, she didn’t think the big Kindred was the kind of male to try and take a female against her wishes. But still, it was clear he was on the edge of some event which would be bad—possibly disastrous if it happened. That event, whatever it was, had to be circumvented at all costs.

The question was how?

“How can I use pain on you?” she asked sharply, frowning at him. “You’ve told me yourself it doesn’t affect you.”

“Whip me—use a whip on me. On my back where I was whipped before.” He spoke through gritted teeth with narrowed eyes. “Do it, Mistress.”

Neh’sa was shocked that he would ask for such a thing—ask her to violate one of his hard limits.

“No,” she exclaimed, frowning. “No, absolutely not, Thorn. But I’ll tell you what we will do,” she added, having an idea. “Come with me.”

Taking his erect shaft in one hand, she led him to the training room and forced him to lie over the spanking bench, so that his knees were on the floor and his legs were spread wide. She cuffed his hands and legs in place so he couldn’t move and then stood back to admire him.

Goddess, he was beautiful—so big and muscular and completely under her control. She would have to teach him a lesson about disobeying her—the thought made her pussy throb where he had licked her.

“You’ll come,” she told him severely. “But on my terms and I promise you, Thorn, it won’t be easy or pleasant.”

“What are you going to do to me?” His eyes blazed and he rattled the chains she’d used to lock him in place. “Going to penetrate me again, Mistress? Going to strap on a cock and fuck me this time?”

“Do you want me to?” Neh’sa demanded, just as she had the first time he’d asked this. “Is this what you want, Thorn?”

Going to her supply drawer, she got out her largest phallus—the black one that strapped into her penetration harness—and shoved it in his face.

“Is this what you want?” she demanded.

For a moment his eyes grew wide and then they narrowed again.

“Fuck no, I don’t want it.” He lifted his chin. “But I can take it if I have to, Mistress.”

“Wrong answer.” Neh’sa put the phallus back and reached into another drawer for a much smaller, slimmer device with a wide base at its bottom. She saw Thorn eyeing it uncertainly. It was long and sleek and silver and it looked more like a weapon than an instrument of sexual pleasure.

“What is that? What are you going to do to me?” he demanded. “I asked you to use pain.”

“What kind of release you get isn’t up to you, slave,” Neh’sa told him, deliberately making her voice harsh. “And believe me, there will be pain—you’re going to come so hard it will be painful.”

“You going to put that inside me? That silver thing?” Thorn demanded. His muscular form strained and the chains creaked.

For a moment Neh’sa thought he was going to break free of the spanking bench. If he did—Goddess, what would she do? She was able to physically dominate the big Kindred because he allowed her to. But he was so much bigger and stronger than her that if he got loose and decided to turn the tables on her…

Maybe I should go get the stunner, she thought but rejected the idea immediately. No, she didn’t need the stunner. She needed to get hold of herself and get hold of Thorn as well.

She had been acting out of a place of anger and also fear—she wasn’t certain what was going on with the big Kindred but whatever it was she saw in his strange, burning eyes, it scared her. That had to end now—she had to master this situation before it spun out of control.

Taking a deep breath, she put a soothing hand on Thorn’s straining back. He might claim he could take penetration if she chose to dish it out but clearly the idea of it still upset him—especially if she was using a foreign object instead of just her finger.

“Thorn,” she said, stroking him like she might stroke a huge, wild animal she was trying to tame. “Look at me. Just look at me.”

Slowly he raised his eyes to hers and she saw the flames were still there, dancing faster and faster in those beautiful mismatched depths.

“Neh’sa,” he growled hoarsely. “Mistress…”

“Thorn,” she said again, softly. “I need to punish you. You were disobedient—you know you were. You deserve this.”

“I know.” He shifted restlessly, making the chains creak warningly again. “I know that, Mistress. I just can’t…I don’t want…Where are you going to put that thing, anyway?” He nodded his head jerkily at the long, slim silver wand in her hand.

“It’s going inside you,” Neh’s told him calmly. “But it’s not really going to hurt, although it will feel very intense.”

He eyed the wand mistrustfully.

“Hell of a lot longer and bigger than your soft little finger, Mistress,” he growled.

“I know that, Thorn, but I need you to take it for me.” Neh’sa stroked his back again. “I know we’re pushing a limit here but I promise if you trust me, I’ll help you have that release you need so badly. Can you trust me and open up?”

He looked at her, the flames dancing even higher in his eyes for just a moment. Then, with a low, shuddering sigh that was almost a groan, he nodded.

“Yes, Mistress. I…I’ll try.”

“That’s good. So good, Thorn.” Stroking his shoulders soothingly, Neh’sa reached for a tube of the slippery ointment she used to ease the way when she broke a slave to penetration.

Squirting a generous amount on her finger, she stroked it over his rosebud, feeling his big form quiver beneath her touch.

“It’s all right, Thorn,” she murmured as she stroked him, loosening him up just a little. “Everything is going to be all right.”

“Hope you’re fucking right,” he growled. When she put the blunt end of the long silver wand against his nether entrance he jumped. “Seven Hells, that’s cold!”

“It’ll be warm in a moment,” Neh’sa promised him. She pressed a button on the wand’s wide, flaring base and at once it began to warm until it was body temperature. When she pressed it against him again, Thorn didn’t jump, though he did shift uncomfortably.

“When are you going to…” He let the sentence trail off and Neh’sa stroked his back again.

“When you’re ready,” she murmured. “Do you trust me, Thorn?”

Another long, harsh sigh and then he nodded.

“Yes, Mistress—I trust you. Do it.”

Slowly but firmly, Neh’sa pushed the long silver wand inside him. It was warm now but she knew it would still feel strange to the big Kindred to have a foreign object in such a sensitive area. At last she had it in place.

“All right,” she told Thorn, stroking his shoulders. “The wand is inside you.”

“Yeah, I can feel it.” He gave a shaky laugh. “Now what? You going to jerk me off while you fuck me with it?”

“I won’t have to jerk you off to make you come this time,” Neh’sa purred softly in his ear. Reaching around him, she pressed another button on the base of the silver wand. With a low hum, the motor inside the slim device kicked on and began to vibrate.

“Gods!” Thorn’s eyes widened and his big body seemed to freeze in place for a moment. “Gods, Neh’sa!”

“Mistress,” Neh’sa corrected him. She went around to the drawer where she’d gotten the case and took out a small silver remote. Then she went to sit in front of the big Kindred. She wanted to watch his face while this played out.

“Mistress,” he groaned, his body shaking. “This fucking thing you’ve got inside me—it’s hitting that spot. The one you rubbed before.”

“Yes, I know.” Pressing a button on the remote, Neh’sa turned up the power, watching as he writhed in his bonds. “How does it feel, Thorn?” she murmured, cupping his cheek in one hand. “Look at me and tell me how it feels.”

“Fucking intense.” His eyes locked with hers and Neh’sa found she couldn’t look away—didn’t want to look away.

“Does it hurt?” she asked softly, still stroking his rough cheek. “Do you want it to stop?”

“No!” The word seemed to be ripped from his strongly corded throat. His eyes narrowed, the flames in them dancing faster and faster. “Gods, no, Mistress. I can barely fucking stand it but…but I don’t want it to stop.”

“That’s good,” Neh’sa told him softly. “Because I’m not going to stop it. I’m going to turn it up and make you come, Thorn. And I want to watch you while you do.”

“Mistress!” he groaned and she wasn’t sure if it was a protest or a plea. She pressed the remote again and watched as his eyes widened and his big body stiffened. Every muscle was tight and his broad chest was heaving like a bellows as the pleasure suddenly became too much to bear.

He didn’t need to tell her he was coming—Neh’sa knew. And as the first jet of his hot seed hit the ground below the spanking bench, she leaned forward and took his mouth in a kiss, swallowing the big Kindred’s shout of agonized pleasure eagerly although she knew she probably shouldn’t.

She kissed him passionately and he kissed her back, eagerly, hungrily as he continued to come, spurting again and again to the black leather floor covering below. His body shook with the force of his orgasm and it seemed he couldn’t get enough of her mouth. A low sound somewhere between a growl and a groan was rising ins his throat and his entire body was strained to the limit as he pleasure took him.

At last, Neh’sa reluctantly broke the kiss. Though Kindred males were supposed to be multi-orgasmic, she decided to only let him come once. Pressing the remote once more, she turned off the wand and removed it carefully.

Thorn was still breathing hard, his eyes closed, his big body limp for once. When Neh’sa touched his back, he looked up reflexively and she saw that the flames in his eyes had died away to sparks and the sparks were resting quietly, not dancing and swirling as they usually did when she was teasing him or training him.

Clearly, whatever event Thorn had been afraid might happen, had been averted. Good—that was good, right?

Neh’sa wasn’t entirely certain but she felt relieved anyway.

“Thorn,” she murmured, stroking the big Kindred’s heaving shoulders. “It’s over now. Are you all right?”

“Yes, Mistress.” His deep voice was ragged and when she stroked his cheek, he nuzzled against her palm as though seeking more of her touch. “Can you unchain me now?” he asked.

“Of course.”

Mindful of his previous experience with sub-drop and the intense vulnerability the big Kindred felt after being penetrated, Neh’sa took her time with the after-care that night. She gave Thorn another bath, although he’d already had one that day, then patted him dry with a towel and took him to her private sitting area.

She pulled Thorn onto the couch with her and rested his head in her lap, stroking his hair gently and tenderly, letting him know she was proud of him for submitting and honored by his trust in her. He was so big she felt like she was stroking a huge beast and yet she loved the sensation of closeness with him.

At first the big Kindred lay stiff against her but then with a low groan, he wound his arms around her waist and pressed his face against her belly.

“Mistress…” he whispered. “Gods, Mistress what are you doing to me?”

“Training you,” Neh’sa murmured. Loving you, whispered a soft voice in her head but she pushed it away.

“You’re breaking me.” He looked up at her with something like wonder in his eyes. “I thought nothing could break me but you are—you’re doing it. And more…you’re making me want to be broken.”

His hoarse, ragged voice touched Neh’sa deeply and she felt something in her heart loosen—something which had been tight and hard and frozen inside her since Heloth had died began to thaw. Had she ever felt so much for a submissive before? Not since Heloth, she had to admit. It was dangerous—wrong to feel so much for a male she was ultimately going to place with another Mistress.

Dangerous and wrong and beautiful.

“Oh, Thorn,” she whispered, holding him close, carding her fingers through his hair and bending down to kiss his rough cheek. “Oh, my sweet Thorn, sometimes we have to be broken before we can become whole.”

And in that moment she was speaking not only of him, but of herself as well.

He groaned and pulled her closer, burying his head in her lap, his arms tightening around her possessively while Neh’sa stroked his hair. Her heart overflowed and for the first time she wondered how she could bear to let him go.

The thought of giving him to another Mistress simply seemed too much to bear—so she didn’t. She pushed it away and let herself simply enjoy this moment of intimacy and quiet with her slave. With your lover, whispered the same little voice.

Neh’sa tried to ignore it but she couldn’t quite manage it…not this time. She simply felt too peaceful and good—too right holding Thorn this way. Her eyelids slipped closed and she told herself she would only rest for a moment before putting him to bed…

They fell asleep with his head in her lap but somehow, their positions shifted. When Neh’sa woke in the middle of the night, she found she was no longer sitting. Thorn must have pulled her down beside him because she was lying beside the big Kindred, cradled in his muscular arms with her head pillowed on one of his biceps.

For a moment, Neh’sa allowed herself to enjoy the closeness. The fire had burned down to embers but there was still enough light for her to trace Thorn’s strong features with her eyes. Goddess, he was beautiful—a mixture of dominant and submissive, Alpha and Beta as she was, perhaps, herself.

She thought of how he’d snapped and pressed her against the wall, ripping away her panties and tonguing her pussy so hungrily…and then of how he had submitted to her on the spanking bench, trusting her to give him the release he so desperately needed. She’d never had such a challenging submissive before, Neh’sa couldn’t help thinking. Never had one who pushed her limits as she pushed his.

Her heart squeezed in her chest…never, in the ten years since Heloth had died had she had a submissive that made her feel so strongly for him.

“Thorn,” she whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

Even in sleep, he turned towards her touch and drew her closer with a low, contented rumble. His cheek was rough against her palm but his lips were soft, so soft when they brushed her skin.

Neh’sa felt sleep dragging on her. It was so warm in the big Kindred’s arms. So warm and safe and peaceful. For a moment she wanted to cuddle closer and go back to sleep, pressed against the hard, muscular wall of his chest.

But she knew she couldn’t do that. Things had already gone too far with Thorn. She was getting too attached to him—too involved with the sexual aspect of his training. All of this emotion and tension between them would end badly if she wasn’t careful. If she didn’t guard her heart.

I’ll call Lee’Lah tomorrow, she promised herself.

Lee’Lah was a Mistress and a friend, the one she most often called on when she needed a female body substitute to train her submissives sexually. The other Mistress was more than willing to be practiced on, especially when it came to honing a slave’s oral skills.

Things had gone too far with Thorn this time—it was time to let him practice on another Mistress. Time to start breaking the strange bond that had somehow formed between them.

Neh’sa didn’t like the idea of the big Kindred with his head buried between some other woman’s legs—in fact it made her stomach knot up and her hands fist at her sides. But it was necessary—the next step she had to take before things got even more complicated between them.

Reluctantly, she slid from the circle of Thorn’s arms and went to her cold, empty bed alone. There, she tossed and turned for hours, thinking of calling the other Mistress and telling herself it was for the best—that it was better this way.

It was a long time before she got back to sleep.

Chapter Thirteen

“Thorn, this is Mistress Lee’Lah. You will treat her with the same respect you treat me,” Neh’sa announced when he entered the training room the next day.

Thorn wasn’t sure what to think—what the addition of a new Mistress added to the equation between himself and Neh’sa. She’d fallen asleep with her head pillowed against his chest but he’d woken cold and alone, twisted awkwardly on the couch with empty arms. She must have deserted him during the night.

Then, that morning she’d been nowhere to be found in the domicile. There had been none of the usual training or teasing and he found he missed it, even though it made him half crazy. He was worried about her, wondering where she’d disappeared to and then, suddenly in the late afternoon, he was summoned to the training room.

He drank her in as he stood there. She was wearing a severely cut black leather suit which covered her completely, while clinging to her full curves, and her long hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the back of her neck. Compared to the skimpily dressed blond female beside her, her outfit was positively modest. Was she trying to tell him something? Trying to send him a message? And if so, what in the Seven Hells was it?

After the intense scene between them the day before, Thorn felt stiff and uncertain—his heart bruised in some indefinable way. He’d nearly snapped with all her teasing, had felt the fire rising inside him and had almost lost control and had a flame-up. He’d been certain at one point that it was going to get away from him—that he would burn the whole fucking one thousand and one story building down around their ears.

And then she’d used the long silver wand on him.

No—you let her use the wand, corrected a small, sarcastic voice in the back of his head. She’s tiny—you could break her in two with one hand if you wanted to. Instead, you submitted to her—let her chain you down and penetrate you again. Not only that, you enjoyed it. Gods, what in the Seven Hells is wrong with you?

Thorn had no answer for that.

I had to let her, he tried to argue with the voice. I’m on a mission here. I have to act like the perfect body-slave—have to do whatever it takes to get the job done.

The little voice didn’t speak up again but Thorn thought he could hear it sneering in the back of his head. Was it the voice of his conscience…or simply his masculine self-pride? For what male in his right mind would enjoy what Neh’sa had done to him the night before—enjoy it and crave it again?

Not that penetration was all he craved from her. Part of him—the dominant part—wanted to take her hard and long. Wanted to fuck her into submission—to break her the way she seemed intent on breaking him.

But that wasn’t going to happen. He was going to use her to get into the Library of All Knowledge and then he would leave and never see her again. He had to keep telling himself that—had to keep reminding himself that this situation wasn’t real or it really would fucking break him. He felt on the edge all the time now—the fire always burning hot and close to the surface.

Well, except for right after she made him come, Thorn admitted to himself. Then he felt a peace so all-encompassing it was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

It was strange to be feeling so much after years of repressing all emotion. Strange to feel so fragile and raw inside after all the long cycles of being frozen. Neh’sa had thawed him against his will—her touch had forced him to react—to feel—and now it seemed he couldn’t stop feeling.

The situation reminded Thorn entirely too much of when he had been a young male, before he’d learned his iron self control. Reminded him of the time when the fire had actually gotten away from him and the deadly consequences when it had…

No! He shoved the bad memory aside ruthlessly. He couldn’t allow himself to go there, not in this situation. Not if he wanted to retain his sanity. And he had to stop himself from feeling so much for Neh’sa. When he felt too much for a female—when he felt too much love, too much protectiveness—that was when bad things happened.

Never, whispered a little voice in his head. Never let it happen again…

“Thorn, did you hear me?” Neh’sa demanded and he realized he’d allowed himself to get trapped in his own head, mired in the misery of the past. In the labyrinth of guilt and sorrow that twisted inside him, so deep he could easily get lost in it if he allowed himself to start down that dark path…

“Forgive me, Mistress,” he said smoothly, making a deep bow to her and the tall, blonde female standing beside her. “My mind, as always, was consumed by your beauty and I failed to hear your words.”

“A liar,” murmured the blonde Mistress. She had sharp green eyes and a triangular face which reminded Thorn very much of the Earth animal called a cat. “But such pretty lies he tells.”

“Thorn has proven to be straightforward and truthful.” Neh’sa spoke strongly, defending him. “He has given me no reason to doubt him.”

Inside, Thorn felt his heart twist with something like misery. Gods, if only she knew the levels of deception he had sunk to. But what else could he do with the future of his entire race at stake?

“Well, if you say so.” The blonde Mistress shrugged, a fluid, cat-like gesture. She was wearing a close fitting sheath of a dress in shimmering pale green that brought out her eyes. The dress had a deep v in the front which showed her plump, bare breasts and a similar one below which showed her panties—nothing more than a series of strings which outlined her pussy rather than covering it.

She looked like she was dressed for easy access.

Thorn frowned. Even for a Mistress of Yonnie Six, this was a provocative outfit. What was the purpose of this new female? Did Neh’sa simply want to show off his training?

His questions were answered by Neh’sa’s next statement.

“Mistress Lee’Lah will be…” She cleared her throat, as though the words choked her. “Will be taking over your physical training from this point on,” she went on in a flat voice, as though forcing herself to speak. “She…she will assess your oral skills and take over your training in sexual submission.”

“What? No!” The words burst from Thorn’s lips before he could stop them.

The blond Mistress was pretty enough—beautiful in fact. Her breasts were full and her pink nipples were puffy and enticing, not to mention the fact that her pussy was already wet. But she wasn’t Neh’sa and it was to Neh’sa he had given himself. The idea of being with another female sexually wasn’t just distasteful to Thorn—it actively repelled him.

Both Neh’sa and the other Mistress were frowning at his outburst.

“I see we’ve got some serious work to do here,” the blonde Mistress Lee’Lah murmured. “I thought you said he was generally obedient, Neh’sa.”

“So he is.” Neh’sa frowned. “I’m not sure what’s going on now.”

“Slave!” The cat-like Mistress Lee’Lah raised her purring voice, making it crack like a whip in the quiet of the training room. “Come here at once and service my pussy!” She spread her legs wide, standing in the center of the room, showing her soft pink folds with just a dusting of delicate blonde curls at the apex of her mound. “Do it now.”

“No.” Thorn held his ground. How could he get out of this? What could he do or say to convince Neh’sa it was a bad idea? Because he couldn’t go with the blonde Mistress—he couldn’t. Everything within him rebelled at the very idea.

“Thorn,” Neh’sa said, breaking into his uneasy thoughts. “There’s no need to be reluctant—Mistress Lee’Lah won’t deny you. You have my full…” She stopped and cleared her throat again as though continuing was somehow painful. “My full permission to demonstrate your, uh, considerable oral skills to her.”

“With respect, Mistress, my oral skills are reserved for you,” Thorn answered in a low voice.

Neh’sa frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been doing some research on your kind, Thorn. I know that Kindred males have a biological need to orally gratify their females. I’m offering you the chance to fulfill that need.”

“Mistress Lee’Lah isn’t my female.” Thorn felt the growl rising in his throat and tried to push it back down. “You are, Neh’sa,” he said, looking her directly in the eyes.

“Well!” Mistress Lee’Lah seemed shocked at his statement. “You didn’t tell me he was so possessive, Neh’sa. And do you allow him to call you by your first name like that instead of Mistress? Not to mention meeting your eyes instead of dropping his gaze as a proper body-slave should!”

“Most certainly not.” Neh’sa’s frown had deepened. “Thorn,” she said. “You’re being very disobedient.”

“And I’ll continue to be disobedient as long as you’re trying to violate my limits,” Thorn said, frowning back.

“What?” Neh’sa looked taken aback. “Who said anything about limits?”

“I did.” Thorn held her gaze with his, willing her to understand. “Mistress, you said you did some research on my kind—on the Kindred. If you did, then you should have run across the fact that Kindred males are unfailingly monogamous.” He shook his head. “I cannot orally service or engage in sexual practices with another female—not while I belong to you.”

Neh’sa looked at him uncertainly.

“Thorn—” she began but he wasn’t done.

“When you first touched my back and saw the scars, you promised not to whip me there for either pain or pleasure. You called it a ‘hard limit,’” he reminded her earnestly. “Well this is a hard limit too, Mistress. Please, I’ll do almost anything else—let you do anything else to me. I…” He swallowed hard. “I think I proved that last night. But I cannot be with another female. Not when I have given myself to you.”

“You didn’t give yourself to me. I bought you,” Neh’sa reminded him sharply but was there something like relief in her voice? Thorn thought there was.

She doesn’t want to see me with another female anymore than I want to be with one, he thought.

“Even so, Mistress,” he said evenly, still holding her gaze. “I think we both know that no amount of money could have made me submit to you as I did last night. I gave myself to you in a very real and permanent way. I am yours—I don’t want to be anyone else’s.”

Part of him was shouting that this was wrong—that he shouldn’t be making such declarations when the true reason for him being here had nothing to do with submitting to her and everything to do with his mission. But somehow the words rose up in him and Thorn couldn’t keep them inside.

It was true—every bit of it was true. He had given himself to her—opened himself in a way he couldn’t have borne to do with any other female in the universe. Though his reasons for being here might be false, his devotion to her was real. He couldn’t have allowed himself such vulnerability otherwise.

“Please, Mistress,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t cheapen what’s between us by asking me to share it with someone else. You’re the one I want—the only one I want.”

“Thorn…” she whispered and her lovely dark eyes filled with tears. Then she turned quickly away. “Go to…to the food prep area and tell service droids I want tanza-brew tea for both myself and Lady Lee’Lah. Go quickly and tell them now.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Thorn bowed, though her back was still to him, and left the training room.

He thought he had made his point. Neh’sa’s tears, however, were unexpected. They tore at his heart although what they meant, he couldn’t say.

* * * * *

“Neh’sa, are you all right?” Lee’Lah was looking, uncertainty written on her lovely features. “What just happened? What’s going on with you and this new body-slave?”

“I…I don’t know.” Neh’sa swiped hastily at her eyes, trying to still the emotion that threatened to overflow inside her. “I…I can’t explain it.” She looked up at the other Mistress. “I should have brought you in for his sexual training ages ago—should have let you oversee it as I have done with my other body-slaves. But somehow I…I couldn’t.”

“You wanted to keep him for yourself? Well, that’s certainly understandable.” Lee’Lah sent a look over her shoulder at the retreating Thorn. “What a perfectly gorgeous beast! Truly, I think he’s the most handsome body-slave you’ve ever had. Well, other than Heloth, of course, although this one is considerably more rugged than Heloth was.”

But Neh’sa found she couldn’t bear to hear her old lover spoken of in the same breath with Thorn. Not when she herself kept comparing them, kept remembering that the last time she had felt so strongly for a body-slave had been those ten years ago when she’d been young and happy and in love…

In love? whispered a voice in her head. Are you actually so foolish as to allow yourself to start thinking of love again after all these years?

Neh’sa pushed it aside. Of course she wasn’t falling in love with her new body-slave. Despite the magnetic attraction between them, she’d only had him for a week. Such thoughts were foolish and weak and she had to stop thinking them.

The thing to do, whispered the practical part of her brain, is to insist that Thorn work with Lee’Lah. To give him no choice. Call him back at once and force him to do as he is ordered and service her orally.

The thought made her stomach clench like a slick fist at the thought. She opened her mouth and heard herself saying,

“Lee’Lah I’m so sorry but I think we’re going to have to cut our training session short today. Perhaps you’d better go.”

“What?” The other Mistress widened her lovely green eyes. “Neh’sa, tell me you’re not going to let him get away with this…this insolence?”

“What would you have me do?” Neh’sa demanded, turning on the other woman. “You know my feelings about respecting limits.”

“Oh, please.” Lee’Lah made a shooing gesture. “No male has limits when it comes to a ripe and ready female. They’re all nothing more than beasts in heat. Just let me shove his face into my crotch and he’ll soon lose any idea of ‘limits’ and be contented to taste my honey.”

Neh’sa frowned. Though she liked Lee’Lah, she was well aware that the other female didn’t exactly share her views. Lee’Lah wouldn’t use a pain collar on a slave but neither did she consider males to be equal with females, either intellectually or emotionally. To her, the other sex were just barely sentient beasts who lived to fuck, eat, and sleep. She didn’t believe any of them was capable of much more than that.

But Neh’sa had seen the sincerity in Thorn’s eyes when the big Kindred had begged her not to share what they had with another.

He was telling the truth—he really doesn’t want to be with another female, she thought and somewhere inside her, a knot loosened.

To be perfectly honest, she’d been dreading watching the big Kindred with Lee’Lah. The other Mistress always put on such a show when she was having a slave eat her pussy—moaning and bucking, scratching their shoulders and pulling their hair… Neh’sa was relieved she wouldn’t have to witness that spectacle now.

“I’m sorry,” she told the blonde Mistress firmly. “But I need more time to work with Thorn before we can proceed.”

“You mean you want him to work on you.” Lee’Lah gave her a scathing look. “I never thought I’d see the day when you went soft over a slave, Neh’sa.”

Neh’sa gave her friend a frosty look.

“Thorn is my body-slave and I’ll train him in whatever manner I find to be appropriate. Right now I think it’s best if you leave.”

“Careful, Neh’sa,” the blonde Mistress hissed. “That sounds an awful lot like a dis-invitation and after what happened with Lady Wraith’neck, I don’t think you want to offend anyone else. You need all the friends you can get right now.”

Neh’sa’s stomach clenched again. Though she hated to admit it, Lee’Lah was right. Neh’sa still had no idea what Lady Wraith’neck’s plans for vengeance were but the more time that went by without hearing from the other Mistress or her barrister, the more anxious she got. She couldn’t help wondering what Lady Wraith’neck was going to do.

“I’m not dis-inviting you, of course,” she said, keeping her voice even with some effort. “I’m just saying that I don’t feel now is a good time to continue Thorn’s sexual training.”

“You mean you don’t think it’s a good time for me to continue it,” Lee’Lah snapped, clearly still upset. She was spoiled, as were most Yonnie Six Mistresses who had been born into privilege, and she was acting as though Neh’sa had offered her a particularly delicious bon-bon and then pulled it away at the last moment before she could bite down.

“I’m sorry,” Neh’sa said again, firmly. “I promise if I want to move in that direction, I’ll ask you to return.”

“Don’t bother.” Lady Lee’Lah was already collecting her things. “I’m leaving.” Nose in the air and a miffed expression on her pretty, pouty face, she swept out of Neh’sa’s domicile without another word.

Neh’sa sighed as she heard Maximus’s wishes for her good health as the butler-slave bowed her out, and the slamming of the door behind her. Well, there was another friend she had lost which wasn’t good. As spoiled and petty as she was, Lee’Lah had been a strong ally in the treacherous world of Yonnite high society. You had to watch your back around the other Mistresses, most of whom could be as sweet as sandoon honey to your face and as venomous as a xiven viper otherwise.

I need to get out of here, she thought. I need something to distract me from all this.

As if reading her mind, a mechanical voice came over the speaker system telling her that the clinic was calling. Apparently there were multiple injuries to deal with.

“Tell them I’m on my way,” she told the house information system, before going to change. Maybe losing herself in the world of healing would help her forget the old wound in her own heart for a while.

Chapter Fourteen

Where in the Seven Hells is she going? Thorn dodged into another doorway, making sure to keep his Mistress from seeing him even as he followed her on her mysterious errand.

Whatever it was, it certainly had her preoccupied. She was walking with her head down, barely looking where she was going as she led him on what appeared to be a tour of all the darkest alleys and seediest backstreets in all of Opulex. As before, she was wearing the dark gray cloak that covered her face and hair, making her just another shadow in the deepening shadows.

But that still doesn’t mean it’s safe for her to be out by herself like this, unprotected and alone, Thorn thought, angrily. What was Neh’sa thinking, going off into this dangerous part of the city by herself? Why hadn’t she taken him with her?

Maybe it was you she was trying to get away from, whispered a little voice in his head. Remembering the tears in her eyes before she’d sent him away to fetch tea which she hadn’t touched, Thorn thought it might be so. But whether she wanted him by her side or not, he had been determined to follow her when she left. He’d had a feeling she might be going someplace dangerous—maybe the same place she’d come back from so depleted on their first night together.

Accordingly, he’d waited until the private lift returned from her departure and got in, intending to find out where she was going and why—and to protect her at all costs if necessary.

On the long ride down to street level, Thorn had been afraid he would lose her since he had to wait for the private lift to come back to the one thousand and first floor before he could go after her. Luckily, though, her sweet, feminine scent was burned into his brain and Kindred were good trackers. He picked up her trail in no time and now he was keeping out of sight as he followed her through the narrow, dark streets.

Despite his size, going unrecognized wasn’t difficult. There were plenty of males on the streets who didn’t appear to belong to anyone. Plus, he’d thought to grab a gray cloak of his own from the storage unit by the door so his big form was mostly hidden.

After several twists and turns, they came to a crumbling brick wall that hid a warped wooden door. Thorn watched carefully, and when Neh’sa opened the door, he caught a quick glimpse of what looked like some kind of waiting area. There were rows of benches with males sitting on them looking expectantly towards the back of the room. Some of them threw unfriendly looks at Neh’sa as she stepped inside but this didn’t seem to deter her. She shut the door firmly behind her and Thorn could see no more.

He waited for a count of ten, although it was killing him to leave her alone in a room full of strange males, and then walked into the place himself. He wasn’t sure where Neh’sa had gone but he’d be damned if he’d leave her there with no protection.

A dozen pairs of hostile eyes greeted him. The men sitting on the benches look tired and worn down and Thorn couldn’t help noticing that most of them appeared to be injured in one way or another.

A male with thinning red hair and stooped shoulders hurried up to him.

“Now then, what can we do for you, Brother? What seems to be your problem?”

“What is this place?” Thorn growled. “What’s going on in here?”

“Don’t you know, Brother?” asked one of the men sitting on the benches nearest to him. “It’s a free Mercy clinic – run for those of us as don’t have Mistresses—or don’t have ones who cares enough to treat us when we’re ill.”

“And for those of us as have Mistresses that like pain play and don’t care to treat the injuries afterwards,” growled another male. “See?” He turned around showing the marks of what appeared to be a savage beating on his narrow back. Perfectly parallel bloody marks marched in neat orderly rows from the top of the shoulders, just below the thick black pain collar he wore, all the way down to the small of his back.

Thorn was taken aback. “Your Mistress did that to you?”

“Aye, that she did,” snapped the other male. “Mistress likes the cane. And if I could but get this Gods’ damned pain collar off, I’d take that same cane and lay it across her pretty face. Then we’d see who needed medical attention.”

“No point thinking about that,” the male beside him pointed out. “You’d be captured and have your balls cut off before you could even lay a hand on her.” He winced and shifted uncomfortably on the bench he was sitting on. “Now my lady, she favors the rod for her dirty work. Fucked me for nigh on in hour t’other night, using bigger and bigger rods to do it until I thought I’d split in two. I’m still fucking sore.”

“Now then. now then…” The male with thinning red hair, who had first approached Thorn, said nervously. “You lads know well enough we’re not meant to speak ill of our Mistresses here. The Mercy clinic is a place for healing, not fomenting rebellion.”

“And why is that, Perchin?” the male with the bloody back demanded. “Because some rich Mistress runs it? She doesn’t give a damn for us—she just wants to soothe her conscience.”

“Because the whole clinic could be shut down if you’re heard talking like you’ve been against your Mistresses,” the man with red hair who was apparently named Perchin said sharply. “We’re beneath the notice of the Yonnite Magistrates for one reason only—nothing but healing comes out of here. No bombs or blasters or rebellions. But if that changed—if even one plot could be traced back to our waiting room, well…” He shrugged his skinny shoulders. “We’d be shut down in a heartbeat and then where would you go for chill packs and soothing salves and healing when your Mistress gives you the rod or gets too happy with the cane?”

The two males muttered angrily at this but Thorn could see they saw the sense of Perchin’s words. There was no more open talk of rebellion although he could tell why there had been in the first place. What in the Seven Hells was wrong with some of the females here, using and abusing their slaves in this way?

To be honest, it was no more than what he had expected when he had first volunteered to be sold as a slave on Yonnie Six. But after days spent with Neh’sa, who could be strict but was always careful to treat him with respect, the apparent abuses and cruelties perpetrated by some of the other Mistresses on their slaves couldn’t help but shock him.

Speaking of his Mistress, where was she?

“I’m looking for Mistress Neh’sanna,” he told the red-haired Perchin. “I think she went in the back. I’m her body-slave,” he added before the other male could ask.

Perchin frowned. “Her body-slave? But Mistress Neh’sanna never brings her slaves here.”

“I brought myself,” Thorn snapped. “This neighborhood isn’t very fucking safe and I didn’t like the idea of her being out here alone. Now are you going to take me to her or am I going to go find her myself?”

The male raised his hands in a placating gesture.

“Very well, I’ll take you but you must be quiet. She and Doctor Matmon have just started a very long and complicated surgery. A group of resistance fighters set off a bomb and injured a great many innocent bystanders.”

“I’ll be quiet—just take me to her,” Thorn said.

“This way.” Perchin took him through a doorway that led to a much larger treatment area. Everywhere Thorn saw curtained off areas and males being treated for injuries, large and small. Then they came to a smaller area which was more enclosed.

“These are the surgical suites,” Perchin told him. “You can’t cross the sterile field but you can watch through the viewing window as Doctor Matmon operates.”

He took Thorn into a small, dark room which held several industrial sized sinks with foot pedals to work them and some hand irradiators as well. There was a long rectangular window on one wall and through it Thorn could see the same male with long dark hair who had called Neh’sa on the viewscreen during Thorn’s first night at her domicile.

The male, who must be Doctor Matmon, was draped in a pale green surgical gown and his long hair was held neatly in place in a club at the back of his neck. He was wearing a mask over his face and working busily on a patient who lay stretched out on the table.

Neh’sa, dressed in a similar outfit, was standing across the table from the male with a look of intense concentration on her lovely face. Thorn saw the same pale pink glow he’d observed several times before emanating from her hands.

The healing touch, whispered a voice in his brain and he understood that she was helping to heal the patient on the table as surely as the male surgeon was.

“Many of our patients wouldn’t survive without the Lady Neh’sanna’s touch,” Perchin remarked, his voice soft and reverent as he watched through the window. “She founded and funds this entire clinic and she comes in as often as she can to help, too.” He looked up at Thorn. “You’re lucky indeed to have her as your Mistress.”

“Yes…” Thorn cleared his throat. “Yes, I guess I am.”

“The only difficulty is in keeping her from doing too much.” Perchin sounded worried. “She pours so much of herself into this place and sometimes at the end of the night, she looks so tired—all used up, almost. Especially if it’s been a heavy surgery night.”

Thorn didn’t like the sound of that. He well remembered the gray cast to Neh’sa’s face and her extreme weariness that first night when she’d come home to him.

“Why does she do it?” he asked. “Do you know?”

Perchin shrugged.

“Not really. Some say it’s to salve a guilty conscience but I don’t believe that’s true. Lady Neh’sanna is a just and fair Mistress and doesn’t mistreat her slaves—well, I’m sure you could tell more about that than I can.” He looked up at Thorn expectantly.

“Yes, she’s fair,” he said shortly. Though Neh’sa had steadily pushed his limits past anything he would have believed would be possible for him, he didn’t feel she had treated him cruelly. It was more like she was opening a door to a part of him—a part he hadn’t even known existed before she bought him.

Thorn still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about discovering this new part of himself but he couldn’t wholly blame Neh’sa for it. After all, if it hadn’t been inside him in the first place, she wouldn’t have been able to make him aware of it.

“Anyway,” Perchin went on, “some also say she funds the clinic as a memorial to a former body-slave who died tragically.”

Thorn felt his heart lurch.

“A body-slave that died? She must have cared for him a whole hell of a lot to dedicate an entire clinic to his memory.”

“Some say she didn’t just care for him as a kind Mistress, though.” Perchin looked mysterious. He dropped his voice to an almost whisper, as though afraid his words might be overheard. “Some say she loved him—as females love males on other planets. Other planets where there are no Mistresses and everyone is equal. If you know what I mean.” He gave Thorn a significant look and raised his eyebrows.

“You mean he was her lover, not just her slave,” Thorn said bluntly but the red-haired male was quick to shush him.

“Not so loud! It’s only a rumor though I must say it would make sense. The Mercy clinic is a labor of love and no mistake. Mistress Neh’sanna pours all of her resources into it. Some say she spent most of her fortune on it and she’s generally here as many nights a week as she can manage. Well…” He coughed. “I need to get back to the front but you’re welcome to stay here and watch the surgery as long as you don’t interrupt.”

“I thank you,” Thorn said, really meaning it. Not only had the little male given him valuable information, he had also given Thorn some interesting insight into his Mistress’s character.

As Perchin bustled out importantly to get back to his business of minding the front of the clinic, Thorn turned to the large rectangular window and studied Neh’sa.

His Mistress’s lovely face was tight with concentration and the steady pinkish glow coming from her hands seemed to bathe the areas with the worst wounds as the surgeon worked.

Who are you, Neh’sa? he wondered as he watched her. Who are you, really?

* * * * *

It was a long and draining surgery—even longer than the one for the little boy who’d had his legs crushed by the caryall earlier that week. By the end of the fourth hour, Neh’sa began to feel weary and weakness crept through her bones like an insidious invisible foe.

If only the patient’s injuries weren’t so extensive she might be able to catch her breath. But he’d been the one surviving victim of a male resistance terrorist bomb that had gone off in a public square. The blast had blown off a leg and badly damaged his internal organs. Matmon was working as hard as he could just to save his life.

The details of his injuries hurt Neh’sa’s heart. It reminded her too much of Heloth and thinking of Heloth made her think of Thorn and his refusal to touch another female.

Could he really care so much for me that he wants nothing to do with another Mistress? Even one younger and slimmer than me like Leeh’Lah? she wondered as she strove to keep the healing energy flowing steadily from her hands. And if so, is it just a cultural thing—something to do with being Kindred? Or does he truly have genuine emotions for me?

It was a foolish line of thought and she knew it. Thorn wasn’t hers to keep—she was just training him so she could find him a home with a suitable Mistress.

But how could she find him a Mistress if he refused any female but her? Of course there were some Mistresses, like Lady Wraith’neck, who would slap a pain collar on him and force him to service them. But the idea of selling the big Kindred to such a cruel Mistress made Neh’sa cringe.

In fact, if she was honest with herself, the thought of placing him with any other Mistress—even a kind and loving one like Lady Tandy—made her feel like someone had hollowed out her heart.

Don’t be foolish, she lectured herself. You’ve only had him a single solar week. There’s no way you could have become so attached to him in that short time.

Except somehow she had. And now the thought of letting him go was almost more than she could bear…

The strident beeping of the cardiac monitor broke her concentration and she looked up to see a grim expression on Matmon’s face.

“We’re losing him.” He nodded at the monitor where the steady blip, blip, blip had become a steady, ominous, droning. “My Lady, can you try to give him a little more of your power?”

“I…I’ll try,” Neh’sa replied faintly. Her heart fluttered and she felt tears prick her eyes.

Those words…We’re losing him—he’s fading fast. I’m sorry, my Lady—there’s nothing we can do… They echoed in her head, bringing back a past so painful she’d spent years trying to forget it. Oh, Heloth…

She began to feel dizzy and the surgical lights set up around the room doubled and then trebled in her vision. The ground began to feel unsteady under her feet.

No—I have to hold on! He’ll die otherwise. Die just like Heloth!

Though she knew she was reaching her limit, she took a deep breath and redoubled her efforts, pouring her healing power into the dying patient… willing him to pull back from the edge…willing him to live…

“No, damn it! He’s going! Gods damn it all to Hell!” Matmon’s usually dispassionate nature turned fiery when he started to lose a patient. Neh’sa suspected the surgeon had his own reasons for personally resenting every life that was stolen from under his hands.

Through her blurred vision, she saw him bent over the patient, working frantically to try and halt the inevitable. He was far too engrossed in his work to see that she was at the end of her strength, to notice that she was falling…

A pair of strong, muscular arms caught her before she could hit the floor.

“Wha…who?” Neh’sa looked up into a familiar pair of mismatched eyes filled with dancing sparks of fire. “Thorn,” she whispered faintly. “What…what are you doing here?”

“Taking you home,” he said and his deep voice sounded angry. “Before you kill yourself trying to save a dead man.”

“He’s not dead,” Neh’sa insisted, hardly knowing what she was saying. “Heloth isn’t dead—I won’t let him be!”

“Heloth?” Thorn frowned. “Name on his medi-chart says Gager. Who’s Heloth?”

“No one. No one…anymore,” Neh’sa whispered and felt her eyes fill with tears. Goddess, she was so tired. If only she could close her eyes and rest for just a minute…

“Who are you? And what in the hell are you doing in my operating theater?” she heard Matmon demanding. “Put Lady Neh’sanna down at once!”

“So you can try to kill her again, having her use herself up on a patient you can’t save?” Thorn demanded. “I don’t think so. She’s coming home with me.”

“You can’t just take her,” Matmon snapped. “We’re in the middle of a surgery.”

“No, you’re in the middle of a funeral. And I’m not going to let you make it Neh’sa’s funeral too,” Thorn said firmly.

Neh’sa wanted to protest again that Heloth wasn’t dead—that she could save him. But just as she had on that awful night, she heard the steady drone of the cardiac monitor signaling that there was no heartbeat and the dull thrum of the brain wave observer telling the sad fact that the patient brain activity had ceased completely.

No! she thought frantically. No, I can save him—I have to!

With the very last bit of her strength, she reached out a hand, trying to send just one more wave of healing into the patient, into her beloved, into Heloth…

“Time of death—” she heard Matmon begin and then the world went gray and fuzzy and she couldn’t hear anything anymore.

Chapter Fifteen

Neh’sa came back to consciousness slowly and unwillingly. The gray mist which enveloped her was so much easier. There was no pain there—no loss—no memory of a love gone forever that could never be regained. She wanted to stay in the gray mist always and never leave it.

But the deep male voice calling her name wouldn’t let her. It forced her to leave the mist…forced her to open her eyes. She was someplace familiar—her bathing room back at her own domicile. But how had she gotten here?

“Neh-sa? Are you all right? Neh’sa—come back to me!” the voice demanded.

When she finally looked up and focused, Neh’sa saw Thorn looking down at her anxiously.

“Thorn?” she whispered as memories began to come back to her…

Standing in the surgery feeling more and more unsteady…but Matmon said he was dying and I couldn’t let him die…couldn’t let Heloth die…then I started to fall but Thorn caught me…

Thorn. Goddess, had he carried her all the way home? He must have—how else could she have gotten here? And now he was holding her close, cradled in his arms as though she was a sick child.

“Thorn?” she whispered uncertainly again. “Where…how…?”

“I followed you to the clinic,” he growled, frowning. “Watched you through that whole damn surgery while you kept on looking worse and worse. You damn well nearly killed yourself, Neh’sa! What in the Seven Hells were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I could save him. But I couldn’t—I couldn’t. I tried so hard but he died anyway…” Neh’sa felt a sob rise in her throat and knew she wasn’t talking about the patient from tonight.

Oh, Heloth…

Why did being near the big Kindred bring back these painful thoughts and feelings? Why couldn’t she put her pain away, bury it, the way she’d buried her heart so many years ago when she realized she would never know love again?

The sob she’d been trying to swallow came out anyway. And then another and another until she was crying uncontrollably, sobbing like a lost child in his arms.

She expected Thorn to pull away and she wouldn’t have blamed him a bit if he had. Most slaves would have been extremely discomforted to see their Mistress behaving in such a shamefully emotional manner. They might have feared reprisal for daring to look on their owner in a moment of such extreme weakness. Any other slave would have left her alone, respectfully closing the door behind them, in order to let her cry in peace and privacy.

But Thorn didn’t react like any other slave would have. Instead of putting her down and walking away, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her tight and rocking her gently.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” Neh’sa heard him murmur as he stroked her hair. “It’s all right. Whatever it is, get it out. Just get it all out.”

It occurred to her then, in the midst of her pain, that she had never cried for Heloth’s death before. When it had first happened, she’d been too numb—disbelieving of the evil sequence of events that had torn her lover from her. And afterwards, she’d thrown herself into the clinic, into memorializing his memory and into her anti-cruelty and anti-pain collar causes. She’d worked herself to exhaustion almost every single night that first year after he was gone. All so she could fall into a dreamless, death-like sleep instead of facing the pain of her loss.

Now it was as though ten years of grief had finally caught up with her. She buried her face in Thorn’s broad chest and sobbed, not caring that it wasn’t proper protocol to allow her slave to comfort her this way. It was as though the pain of Heloth’s death had been chasing her all these cycles and she’d been afraid to turn around and face it until now—until she had a pair of warm, solid arms to hold her and help her bear it.

Thorn didn’t try to stop her weeping. He only held her close and stroked her hair, whispering soothing nothings, telling her everything would be all right, that she was going to be okay.

At last, Neh’sa felt as though she’d cried herself completely out. She felt hollow inside, like someone had scooped out all her internal organs and left nothing but empty air in their place. Her head ached and her eyes felt swollen. In fact, all of her ached. Her body was letting her know she’d pushed it too far tonight, drained herself to the point of exhaustion and beyond.

Goddess she was tired!

Dimly, she was aware of Thorn sitting her down on the blue, fuzzy Gerna-grass mat that covered the bathroom floor which lived off the condensed steam and stray water-droplets that inevitably dripped on it after a bath or shower.

This is it, she thought dully. Now he’ll leave me to myself to try and collect my emotions. Goddess, how could I have shamed myself so badly? I’ve ruined his training for certain this time. He’ll never respect me or want to submit to me as his Mistress again after the display I put on tonight!

But to her surprise, Thorn didn’t leave. Instead he hummed softly under his breath as he ran hot water into the huge soaking tub. Scented steam began to rise and after a moment he came back to her and started taking off her clothing.

“What…what are you doing?” Neh’sa tried to make her voice stern but it came out wavering and uncertain.

“Giving you a bath,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I know I’m turning the tables here—you’re usually the one who takes care of me. But tonight I’m going to take care of you, Mistress. Because I think you need it.”

He didn’t make it a question or ask if his actions were acceptable to her. Neh’sa tried to find it in herself to protest but somehow she couldn’t. She let him undress her in silence, not protesting a bit even when he scooped her up as easily as he might lift a child.

“All right now, Mistress,” he rumbled as he lowered her down into the hot, sweetly scented water. “Let me know if this is too warm for you.”

“No, it…it’s perfect,” Neh’sa whispered, finding her voice at last.

“Good. Then just relax and let me take care of you,” Thorn ordered.

And to her surprise, Neh’sa did.

* * * * *

She didn’t say a thing as he bathed her, Thorn noted. She just closed her eyes and allowed him to wash her in silence. He used the same synthi-sponge she always used when she bathed him, stroking it tenderly along her slender limbs and over her narrow shoulders and back and respectfully over her breasts and belly and thighs.

Before washing her hair, he wrung out a cool facecloth in the sink and put it over her eyes, which were red and wet from crying. Her long, dark tresses rippled in the water and Thorn couldn’t help thinking how beautiful she was with her full curves on display.

Gods, had he ever felt so much for a female before? Only once. And that had been long ago…so long he could almost make himself forget it. He’d never thought to have those feelings again but Neh’sa had changed all that. Somehow when his Mistress had touched his body, she had touched his soul too.

Thorn made himself get on with the business at hand. His heart hurt for Neh’sa’s pain, but he was glad to have a chance to take care of her for a change. She was always so careful with him—washing and touching him without allowing him to return the favor. Now he relished the chance to pamper her and show her some of the devotion he felt by bathing her and washing her hair.

When her hair was finished, Thorn allowed her to soak a little longer and then, when the water began to grow cold, he lifted her out of the tub and set her on her feet while he reached for a towel.

The moment her feet touched the blue grass mat, she gave a little hiss of pain.

Thorn looked at her sharply.

“What is it, Mistress? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered in the cool air. “I’m just a little achy is all. When I use too much of my power…expend too much energy—” She broke off abruptly, as though this wasn’t something she felt she ought to be talking about—at least not to him.

“Like I said, you nearly killed yourself.” Thorn frowned and added, “It’s all right—I can tell you’re not all Yonnite anymore than I’m all Kindred. You don’t have to tell me what you are—what gives you your power—if you don’t want to.” The Goddess knew he certainly hadn’t told her much about his own half-heritage.

“I’m half Lylasian,” she said hesitantly. We have empathic abilities—well, full blooded Lylasians do. I can’t feel all emotions—only pain—the pain of others, I mean.”

Thorn thought of how she’d told him he was broken inside when she first saw him at the auction—she must have somehow tapped into the pain of his past. The pain he took great care never to think of himself. And how difficult must it be for her to live on a planet like Yonnie Six where there was pain being inflicted all around her all the time?

It must be like living in the lowest level of the Seven Hells, he thought grimly. It gave him new insight into her methods as a Mistress. She must feel every pain she inflicted as her own—it must certainly give her the unique ability to push a submissive right to the edge without quite going over, as she had done with him on several occasions.

“Is that also what gives you your healing abilities? Your Lylasian blood?” he asked, choosing not to comment on her pain remark. It was too much to get into now.

Neh’sa nodded.

“My mother, who was full blooded Lylasian, was a much better healer than I am.” A sorrowful look passed over her face. “If I was the healer she was I could have saved…” she cleared her throat. “Could have saved so many people.”

“Including the body slave who died? The one you dedicated your clinic to?” Thorn asked, deciding to take a chance.

She frowned at him. “How do you know about Heloth?”

“I don’t—don’t know anymore about him than that he died and you miss him.” He began rubbing her dry with a big, puffy red towel, admiring the contrast of the scarlet fabric against her pale skin. “You can tell me if you want,” he added, in as off-hand a tone as he could manage.

Neh’sa frowned and lifted her chin.

“No, as it happens I do not wish to tell you my private affairs, Thorn. Nor is it appropriate for you to ask.”

“Too bad we’re not being appropriate tonight then,” Thorn murmured and swung her up into his arms.

“Thorn? Wait—what are you doing? Put me down,” she demanded.

“All right.” He carried her into the bedchamber and put her face down on the towels he’d had the house-droids lay out on the bed. Then he picked up a bottle of hisen-flower massage oil gel.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Neh’sa demanded. Now that the worst of her grief had expended itself, she seemed to want to go back to being the cool and aloof Mistress she’d been for most of their time together.

The trouble was, Thorn wasn’t going to let her. At least, not tonight.

He squirted some of the lightly scented oil-gel on his palms and rubbed his hands briskly together to warm them up. Bending over the bed, he swept Neh’sa’s long, damp hair out of the way, gripped her by the shoulders, and began a firm massage.

“Thorn, you really shouldn’t…ahhhh.” Her words ended in a groan as he found the pressure points on her shoulders and began to rub out the knots of tension he found there.

“Oh my Goddess,” Neh’sa moaned as he continued to work on her. “Your hands are so big and warm. Where did you learn to do this, Thorn? I had no idea you had such hidden talents.”

Thorn didn’t like to tell her he knew about anatomy from his study of paralyzing and killing pressure points. Instead he rubbed harder, running his hands down her arms and then her mid and lower back.

“Mmmmm…” Neh’sa’s soft sigh of contentment did strange things to his shaft, still concealed behind the short black loincloth attached to his crotchless leather trousers. But he reminded himself he was trying to make his Mistress feel better—not seduce her. Still, it was nice to be the one touching her and in charge of her pleasure, rather than the other way around for once.

He did her entire back, not neglecting her legs and feet, making her moan some more as he caressed and massaged her soft little soles—Gods, every part of her was lovely! Then he moved back up to the rounded globes of her ass, which he kneaded and stroked until Neh’sa gave another, different kind of moan and spread her legs just a little.

Thorn raised an eyebrow Well, well—maybe his Mistress was feeling better than he’d thought.

He took her silent invitation and began to rub and massage her inner thighs. Soon his fingertips were brushing against her outer pussy lips. He wondered if Neh’sa would stop him—if this therapeutic massage which had suddenly turned erotic was too much for her.

But Neh’sa didn’t say a thing. She only spread her legs a little wider and arched her back as though inviting him in.

The message was clear—she liked what he was doing and wanted him to continue.

Thorn felt his cock surge. Gods, she was gorgeous, so naked and open for him. But he didn’t want to go any further like this, with the two of them pretending what was happening wasn’t happening. No, he wanted Neh’sa to acknowledge what was going on between them, however obliquely.

“Mistress,” he purred softly in her ear. “As you said before I have…hidden talents. And one of those is a special massage technique I think you’ll like.” He gripped her inner thighs and squeezed, allowing his thumbs to spread her outer pussy lips, revealing her wet, pink center. “Would you like me to continue?” he murmured.

“I…yes, Thorn,” she whispered after only a moment’s hesitation. “I would. But…what exactly does this special technique involve?”

“A thorough massage of your feminine core, Mistress,” he told her, pressing gently with his thumbs, knowing he was stimulating the sides of her clit. His slippery fingers had slid inwards so that each time he squeezed them together he was opening her pussy more, baring more of her inner folds.

“Mmm…and how…how exactly do you do that?” Neh’sa’s soft voice was breathless and her hips were rocking, responding to his gentle but firm caress.

“Well, I have to have access to all of you—all of your pussy—to do it right.” Thorn cupped her soft, open pussy from behind in one hand and slid the tip of his middle finger into her heated folds. Gods, she was so wet.

For a moment, Neh’sa stiffened against him and he froze, his finger just lightly stroking the tight little button at her center. His cock was aching and his mouth was watering to take this faster, further…but he didn’t want to rush her pleasure.

Then she moaned softly and spread her thighs some more, silently giving him permission.

Thorn circled her slippery clit with a slow, gentle caress designed to drive her wild. He leaned over her, letting her feel his bulk above her as he stroked her and murmured in her ear,

“Does that feel good, Neh’sa? You like it when I pet your soft little pussy?”

He saw a shiver run through her at his dirty words and felt her pussy clench as he continued to rub her.

“Goddess,” she whispered unsteadily. “You…you’re to call me Mistress at all times, Thorn—you know that.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” With his other hand, the one not busy stroking her pussy, he reached under her to cup one full breast in his palm. “Answer me, Neh’sa,” he growled in her ear as he rolled her nipple. “Do you like it when I stroke your wet pussy?”

It was a calculated risk and Thorn knew it. Up until now, except the first night when she’d allowed him to make her come on his fingers, she’d been in complete control sexually. But he was betting she didn’t always want to be the one in charge. The fact that she’d had a body-slave in the past who was more than just a slave—who was an actual lover—made him think that maybe she’d be willing to switch roles sometimes and not always be the dominant.

Neh’sa’s entire body stiffened for an instant and he thought he must have misread the signals he’d thought she was putting out. Then, with a little moan, she pressed her pussy hard into his palm and opened her thighs even wider for him.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I…I love it when you stroke my pussy, Thorn.”

His cock surged again. God, he was so achingly hard her for her! He could feel the fire rising in him as his lust grew but right now it was the Kindred part of him that was dominant and what the Kindred part wanted to do was to taste her—to feel her sweet pussy pressed against his mouth as he drank her juices right from the source.

“That’s good, Neh’sa—very good,” he murmured, stroking faster, circling her clit as she rotated her hips in time with his rhythm. “I’m glad you like it when I massage you with my fingers but I have a different massage technique I want to try on you. An oral technique.”

Her breath seemed to stop in her chest for a moment.

“Oral?” she whispered.

“That’s right.” Thorn knelt at the edge of the bed and hooked his arms around her spread thighs. With a tug, he got her into position, her ass half raised and her pussy spread and tilted back towards him. Her folds were swollen and wet and the little pink pearl of her clit was on full display, begging for his tongue to take up where his fingers had left off.

“Thorn!” Neh’sa gasped and began to struggle. But there was no way he was letting her get away now.

“Don’t move, Neh’sa,” he commanded, putting a dominant growl in his voice. “I want to taste your pussy and you’re not going to deny me again. Now fucking hold still and let me lap your soft little cunt.”

She moaned and ceased her struggling. Good—it was time she learned to give him control sometimes. Thorn’s natural, dominant nature rose inside him and he spread her even wider, squeezing her thighs possessively as he leaned forward and took a long, slow, hot lick of her quivering pussy.

“Ahh!” Neh’sa gasped as he stroked his tongue over her wet folds. “Oh, Thorn!”

“That’s right,” he growled, looking up for a moment. “That’s right—spread that hot little pussy for my tongue. Open yourself and let me taste you. Gonna make you hot, sweetheart—so hot you come all over my face.”

“I…we…shouldn’t,” she moaned, but she was pressing back against him, opening herself for his tongue as he had commanded even as she protested.

“Yes we fucking should. I’ve been wanting to taste your soft little pussy from the minute I first saw you,” Thorn growled, and took another deep taste of her sweet, honeyed folds. Gods, she tasted amazing! He was addicted to her taste, to the warm, feminine scent of her that filled his senses.

Her answer was nothing but a moan which Thorn took as a sign to continue. Dragging her a little closer to the side of the bed, he pressed forward and got in deep, pressing his tongue into the soft, tight entrance of her pussy and thrusting forward, fucking her with his face.

Her pussy responded to his aggressive move by gushing honey, which Thorn lapped up eagerly. Gods, he’d heard other Kindred males talk about how they needed to taste their females but he’d never understood it until now—had never understood the sheer sexual bliss of spreading a woman wide and ravaging her with his tongue.

He never wanted it to end.

* * * * *

Neh’sa couldn’t believe she was allowing him to do this.

It’s wrong, cried the little voice in her brain. First you cry all over him and then you allow him to take the upper hand sexually—stop it now, Neh’sa or he’ll never respect you again!

But somehow she couldn’t stop the big Kindred—didn’t want to stop him. And besides, she didn’t think she could stop him even if she wanted to. He was so much bigger than her—so much stronger. Now that he had taken the upper hand, there was no getting it back from him. She was helpless to do anything but open herself for him, helpless to do anything but submit to his tongue in her pussy.

“Ah!” she heard herself moaning. “Ah, Goddess, Thorn…that feels so good. Please, oh please.”

She didn’t know what she was asking for—probably for him to make her come. Her mind was a jumbled mess and her pussy was throbbing against his hot mouth as he lashed her with his tongue one minute and then thrust it deep in her wet depths the next.

Crying with need, she pressed back against him, blindly seeking the pleasure he was giving her, craving even more of his mouth on her.

“Thorn!” she cried, reduced at last to begging. “Thorn, please—please make me come!”

He pulled away for a moment, though his hand took the place of his tongue to keep up the momentum.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he growled in a hoarse, hungry voice. “That’s right, spread that pussy for me and ride my face. Gonna fuck you with my tongue until you gush honey for me. Gonna make you come…come so hard.”

Then he pressed his face back between her legs and Neh’sa felt his tongue dive deep into her pussy as he circled her aching clit with two fingers.

Oh Goddess, she thought incoherently. So good…feels so good…

It was too much…and just enough. In a warm, overwhelming rush like a tidal wave, she felt her orgasm overtake her and pull her out to sea. Crying and gasping, she pushed back against his seeking mouth, giving herself to him as she hadn’t given herself to any male in over ten years.

“Thorn,” she moaned. “Oh, Goddess, yes—I’m coming…you’re making me come so hard.”

* * * * *

Thorn was in fucking heaven and it wasn’t just his Kindred side responding to the situation. The Enfuego part of him had also awakened and with it a fierce possessiveness like nothing he’d ever known. He’d tasted her twice before this but only briefly—this was the first time he’d licked her to the peak and tasted the honey of her orgasm. Most males didn’t understand it but the special nectar a female’s pussy made at the moment she came was filled with hormones which Thorn’s Enfuego half responded to with intense possessive fire.

Mine, growled a voice in his head and he felt the fire inside him rising dangerously high. Neh’sa was his now and if any other male tried to lay a hand on her, the fire would emerge to protect the female his body claimed as a mate.

Dimly, Thorn realized this wasn’t a good thing. After all, Neh’sa was his Mistress, not his lover or his mate. He had no control over her actions—over where she went or who she saw. But it didn’t matter to the fire inside him—all it knew was that Neh’sa was his now, his to protect and his to claim. No other male had better come within touching distance of her or they would pay the price.

Neh’sa continued to writhe and moan against him and Thorn licked her to orgasm several more times, savoring her sweet juices as they flowed with each one. He loved the feeling of her velvety pussy clenching around his tongue and fingers, loved the hot, helpless sounds she made and the way she begged so brokenly for him to make her come.

The last orgasm he forced from her.

She was moaning by that time and twitching her hips, whispering in a broken voice that she couldn’t take anymore. Thorn couldn’t help remembering his own, similar words—his pleas that she would stop whatever sexual torture she was performing on him because he couldn’t bear another moment. And when Neh’sa started saying the same, he treated her as she had treated him.

“Be quiet, sweetheart,” he growled, still lapping her spread pussy idly, teasing her quivering little clit with the tip of his tongue. “You’re not done coming until I say you are. Now be a good girl and ride my tongue again. I want to taste your sweet nectar gushing for me and hear you moaning one more time and then I’ll let you go.”

“Thorn, I’m your Mistress—” she started to protest but he sucked her clit between his lips and lashed the tender little bud with his tongue, making her gasp and buck against his face.

“Not right now, you’re not,” he growled, releasing her. “Most of the time you might be my owner but right now your little pussy belongs to me. And I’m going to make it gush honey for me one more time before I stop.”

After that, Neh’sa seemed to give up the idea of taking charge of the situation. With a soft little moan of resignation, she pressed back against him, spreading her tender pussy once more for his lapping tongue, submitting to his mouth on her.

This time, Thorn couldn’t help himself. He unwrapped one of his arms from around her thighs and reached down to twitch the black loincloth to one side. From the time she’d brought him to her domicile, Neh’sa had taken charge of his orgasms, deciding when and where he should come.

Part of him liked that, in a way—liked giving her control of his body to tease and torment sexually—he had to admit it. But tasting his Mistress had caused the fire inside him to go into overdrive. He could feel his eyes heating as the sparks dancing in them turned to flames. It was an unsafe situation—he needed a release.

He still couldn’t touch himself because of the non-contact bracelets. But the mattress of the bed was firm and the sheets covering it were silky. As Neh’sa cried and gasped her pleasure and pressed her wet, open folds to his seeking tongue, Thorn pressed his long, achingly hard shaft against the bed and began to thrust. When she came again, her pussy spasming around his tongue, he felt his cock begin to jerk. As she moaned his name he pressed hard against the mattess and, short, hard spurts of come jetted from the tip of his shaft—a release almost painful in its pleasure.

It was intense—so intense that Thorn was fucking glad he was kneeling on the floor. If not, his legs might have given way. He felt surrounded by Neh’sa—by the sight of her, the scent of her, the sweet feminine taste of her pussy and the soft, broken sound of her moans.

Mine, he thought again, almost deliriously. She’s mine and I’ll never let her go.

It was unlike anything he’d ever felt with a female and he never wanted it to end.

It did end at last, though. Neh’sa sagged in his arms and he remembered how terribly exhausted she’d been when he brought her home. Had he pushed her too far?

Anxiously, he rose from his knees and got on the bed with her, gathering her small form into his arms.

“Neh’sa sweetheart? You all right?” he asked, looking down into her lovely face.

“I…I think so,” she said faintly. “Goddess, I lost track of how many times you made me come.”

“Five or six.” Thorn licked his lips. “Last one was the best.”

“Definitely the most intense.” She sighed, her eyelids fluttering closed. “We should…should talk about this. But I can’t right now. So…tired.”

“Sleep then, Mistress,” Thorn murmured, reverting to her formal title. “Sleep in my arms tonight.”

“Shouldn’t,” she murmured and yawned. “Told you…I don’t…we can’t…”

“Yes, we can,” he said firmly. Lifting the covers, he slid them both beneath the sheets and curled her small body into the curve of his much larger one.

Tomorrow they could deal with how Neh’sa felt about what he’d done. Tonight he just wanted to sleep with her in his arms, to feel her close and know she was safe and they were together.

Together, whispered a little voice in his brain. But for how much longer? The ceremony at the Library of All Knowledge is coming up soon. And then you’ll have to betray her—betray your beloved “Mistress” and leave her high and dry, not even knowing where you went.

Thorn pushed the troubling voice away. He couldn’t think about that now. He needed to sleep and to hold Neh’sa in his arms, feeling her small, soft body with its lush curves pressed against him.

Neh’sa seemed to need the same thing. With a soft, contented sigh, she settled back against him and they drifted off together.

Chapter Sixteen

Goddess, I did it again—only this time it’s so much worse! was Neh’sa’s first thought on waking in the big Kindred’s arms.

Yet, despite the shame she felt at submitting to him and the knowledge that she had done the exact wrong thing, there was a part of her that wanted to stay where she was, safe and secure, held snugly in the curve of his big body. That traitorous little part whispered that it wasn’t so bad what she’d done—it had felt good, felt right to let Thorn take control for once. And his arms felt so deliciously warm around her. Why couldn’t she just close her eyes again, snuggle closer to his broad chest, and go back to sleep?

Because you’ll lose the upper hand completely if you do, Neh’sa told herself sternly. Because you’ve already done enough damage last night when you cried in his arms and allowed him to comfort you. Not to mention afterwards when you let him to take the upper hand. No Mistress should ever behave so with her body-slave and you know it!

Her mind drifted back to Heroth…but no. Thorn wasn’t Heroth and she was older and wiser now than she had been during that first relationship. Old enough and wise enough to know that allowing a male body-slave—especially one she’d had for less than a full solar week—to take control sexually was a bad idea.

Forcing herself wider awake, Neh’sa shrugged off his heavy bicep and sat up, putting some distance between herself and the big Kindred.

Thorn was instantly awake.

“Neh-sa?” he murmured, looking up at her with a questioning expression in his mismatched eyes.

“I have told you before, Thorn, you are to call me Mistress at all times.” Neh’sa made her voice crack like a whip in the stillness of the bedchamber. “And you ought to be sleeping in your own assigned space—not invading mine.”

His eyes opened wider and a look she couldn’t interpret passed over his face. Anger maybe? Irritation?

Now he’s going to argue and complain and point out that I didn’t object to our sleeping arrangements last night after he held me down and pleasured me with his mouth, Neh’sa thought, dreading the inevitable debate.

It was beneath her as a Mistress to argue with a body-slave. She would have to discipline him or possibly even use the stunner on him to bring him back into line and she really, really didn’t want to do that. It represented a fundamental loss of control on her part if she had to resort to physical intimidation to compel his submission. If she had to use the stunner on Thorn, she’d be no better than Mistresses like Lady Wraith’neck who used a pain collar or an agony-prod

Goddess, this was all her fault! She had ruined his training herself and there might be no way to get it back on track. Why hadn’t she stuck to the proper protocol? Why had she been so weak and needy and allowed him to take the upper hand?

But then, as suddenly as the anger crossed his face, it was gone again. Without a word of protest, he slid from the bed and knelt beside it, his head bowed.

“Forgive me, Mistress,” he rumbled. “For taking liberties.”

Neh’sa stared at him in surprise. Was he really being compliant even after last night? And if so, why?

“Well…” she said, uncertain how to proceed since his actions were so different from what she’d anticipated. “I, um…think it’s time for First Meal. We have much to do today—it’s time we got moving.”

“I’ll instruct the food prep droids to begin your First Meal at once,” Thorn murmured. “Do you know what you’ll be wearing to the banquet at Club Carnivorous tonight?”

To be honest, Neh’sa hadn’t even thought about the banquet. Now it occurred to her she’d promised Thorn he could come with her but only if he earned his collar through obedience.

Goddess, what was she going to do? She couldn’t appear at the most prestigious social club in town without a proper body-slave but how could she reward Thorn’s actions of the night before with a collar? He’d snuck out of her domicile to follow her to the clinic, had carried her back home, then taken control sexually and refused to stop, even when she begged him, until he made her come over and over again.

Yes and you loved every minute of it, the accusing little voice in her head pointed out.

Neh’sa tried unsuccessfully to push it away as she answered Thorn’s question.

“I…have a dress which I specially ordered for the banquet,” she said.

“Very good, Mistress,” he rumbled. “And what will I be wearing?”

“I haven’t said if you’re coming with me,” Neh’sa said sharply. “I…I haven’t decided yet if you’ve earned your collar.”

She expected Thorn to argue with her about that but he only arched an eyebrow at her.

“Where is Club Carnivorous located anyway?” he asked.

“Downtown,” Neh’sa said, frowning. “Actually only a few blocks over from the clinic where you followed me last night.”

“Then I’m going.” The sparks in his blue and green eyes were whirling like tiny specks of fire. “There’s no way in the Seven Hells I’m letting you go down there again without protection.”

“You’ll go if I say you can go,” Neh’sa said, glaring at him.

“I’ll follow you if you try to leave me here.” There was fire in his eyes but he spoke in a quiet tone that went strangely with his rebellious words.

Neh’sa realized with some dismay that he wasn’t actually rebelling—he was simply stating a fact. He absolutely would not allow her to go alone into a place he felt was dangerous without him.

“Thorn—” she began but he cut her off.

“You’re mine now, Mistress. After last night, you belong to me as much as I belong to you. And if you know as much about Kindred nature as you claim to, you’ll understand that I cannot let you go into a dangerous situation if I’m not there to protect you.”

He rose from his knees—he had been kneeling all this time—and Neh’sa couldn’t help thinking all over again how very huge and muscular he was.

“I’ll submit to you, Mistress,” he told her, opening his palms in a gesture of supplication. “I’m yours to command in all things. But don’t ask me to leave your side when there might be danger anywhere you go. I’ve seen the way repressed and owned males look at females here and I’ve heard about the resistance gangs that roam the streets, looking to cause trouble. Besides, don’t you think Lady Wraith’neck is going to be there tonight? What if she brings another Clopsian with her?”

“Thorn…” she began and then trailed off. Everything he’d said was true. Of course, it was also true that she’d been going to the clinic by herself for years now and nothing bad had ever befallen her. Not because she didn’t want it to, though.

I’ve been tempting fate for ages, Neh’sa suddenly realized. Wishing I might be killed in some quick, violent way—anything to take away the pain of Heroth’s loss.

And now, suddenly, she found she no longer wanted to take that risk.

“Thorn,” she began again, but was uncertain how to continue. She licked her lips, which were suddenly dry.

“Please, Mistress—don’t ask me to leave you in danger. Don’t ask me to choose between obedience and my protective instincts because my instincts will win every time.” He came over to her—she was still sitting on the edge of the bed—and bent to take her small hands in his. “I have to come with you tonight,” he murmured, searching her eyes with his own. “I fucking have to.”

“I…I suppose you’ve earned your collar,” Neh’sa heard herself saying. “You did submit very well when…when I used the silver rod on you.” She didn’t add that she had submitted to him as well—to his tongue in her pussy—and Thorn didn’t bring it up either.

Instead, he turned her hands over and laid soft kisses in each of her palms. Then he looked at her again and said simply, “Thank you, Mistress.”

“You’re welcome, Thorn.” Neh’sa wished her voice didn’t sound so breathless but she couldn’t seem to help it.

For a long moment their gazes locked and she felt something hot and needy unfolding in her lower belly, like some kind of neglected flower unfurling its petals. Then the big Kindred nodded and released her hands.

“I’ll go see to your First Meal, Mistress,” he said and left her bedchamber.

Neh’sa watched him go, wondering what she was going to do.

Chapter Seventeen

Club Carnivorous was in an even more dangerous part of the city than Neh’sa’s Mercy Clinic. More dangerous because it was crowded with a substrata of the entire Opulex population, both high and low, and all of them seemed to be milling around the club.

Bonded body-slaves fitted with pain collars hurried down the packed streets, their eyes downcast, clearly out on errands for exacting and impatient Mistresses. There were also free males who belonged to no Mistress. They wore ragged clothing and scowling, resentful looks on their haggard faces. Most of them were homeless, Thorn recalled, from his research into Yonnie Six, and none of them had any hope of moving up in a society where males were considered less than dirt beneath a wealthy Mistress’s feet.

Mingled among the males both owned and free were street urchins—also all males, Thorn noted—who dodged in and out of the press of adults.

In front of the club itself were six or seven huge, heavily muscled armed guards which looked to have been cybernetically enhanced. Bouncers to keep the male riff-raff away from the well-heeled Mistresses. The high society females were emerging one by one from their luxurious floating hover-cars leading one or two or sometimes even three body-slaves on long leashes attached to collars.

Thorn reached up reflexively to feel for the collar which encircled his own neck. Of course, it wasn’t a pain collar like most of those poor bastards were wearing. His was plain black leather without even a clip for a leash—Neh’sa believed that a proper body-slave should follow his Mistress of his own free will and be where she needed him at all times. The collar was unremarkable to look at with just a tiny square in the center with Neh’sa’s family crest stamped on it in pale blue and gold.

But the Spartan appearance of the collar belied its true value. It was made of vadin hide—a rare predator which lived in the northern mountains of Jarvel, an ice world in a different solar system from Yonnie Six. The hide had to be aged for no less than twelve cycles and then tanned in a process that took another twelve cycles. It was then dyed with an expensive indelible pigment made from black pembla-flower blossoms. A thousand flowers had to be plucked, winnowed, and crushed in order to make enough of the pigment for one collar and their cost was extraordinarily high.

The result of all this labor, time, and effort was a butter-soft leather which was as pliable as silk and as strong as plasti-steel. It was so thin Thorn felt he ought to be able to rip it off his neck like it was made of paper. But after tugging on it—Neh’sa had invited him to do so—he realized that his head would come off sooner than the collar would.

“This collar will remain around your neck for as long as I own you,” she told Thorn, sealing the black leather around his neck with a heated laser key which she then hung on a chain around her own neck. “No blade or flame can cut it from you—only by my hand will you be freed.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Thorn had been kneeling to allow her to place the black collar around his neck. It gave him a strange sensation to feel it close around his throat—the strongest feeling yet of being owned by her.

Somehow, he didn’t mind.

You will mind when you can’t get the damned thing off after this mission is over, whispered a practical voice in his head. But Thorn chose to ignore it. Right now the end of the mission seemed very far away. All he could see was his Mistress’s lovely face when she placed the collar around his neck and marked him as hers. All he could feel were her soft hands and, as her sweet, feminine scent filled his senses, he briefly wished he could never leave her side.

Which was foolish, Thorn reminded himself as they waited in their hover coach for their turn to step out onto the plush purple synthi-grass carpet which had been unrolled from the huge double doors of Club Carnivorous. He was only here to get information on the Hive from the Library of All Knowledge—he had to keep his end objective in mind and not allow himself to be swept up into some fantasy where he and his Mistress fell in love and decided to run away together or some damn thing like that. He—

“Oh, dear.” The dismay in Neh’sa’s soft voice drew Thorn out of his contemplation.

“What is it, Mistress?” he asked.

“Just look.” She nodded at the line of hover coaches that snaked down the block, waiting their turn to disgorge their passengers onto the purple carpet. In the coach directly ahead of theirs, Thorn thought he saw a familiar face.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered as the door opened and a long, skinny leg appeared, “That’s—

“Lady Wraith’neck,” Neh’sa said and sighed again. “I wonder what trouble she’ll cause tonight. If we’re fortunate she’ll completely ignore us.” She shook her head. “Unfortunately, I doubt we’ll be that lucky.”

“What in the Seven Hells is that creature she has with her?” Thorn asked, frowning.

For instead of leading a regular body-slave out of her hover coach, Lady Wraith’neck had the strangest thing Thorn had ever seen at the end of her leash.

It was tall and thin—taller than him, he was certain—with a skeletal frame and odd, bony protuberances extending from the ridge of its spine. Its skin was a pale, ghostly white and it didn’t appear to have any eyes at all—just a round, bulbous head with a mouth full of long, needle-like teeth.

The teeth were only partially hidden behind a tytano-frame muzzle and its freakishly long arms were strapped to its sides as well. This kept its long fingered hands, all tipped with deadly looking claws, from reaching for anyone—though Thorn saw them opening and closing in frustrated fists, as though the creature was angry at its forced captivity.

“What is that thing?” he asked again, “It doesn’t look very fucking safe to bring into a crowded club—that’s for damn sure.”

Neh’sa’s dark eyes were wide and she shook her head uncertainly.

“I’m not sure what it is.”

“Well can she bring it into the club with her?” Thorn demanded. “The bouncers aren’t going to allow that, are they? If that thing gets loose—”

“Unfortunately, as long as she has it properly restrained, she’s within her rights as a high-ranking Mistress to bring any kind of male body-slave with her she wants—even into public places.”

Neh’sa didn’t sound too happy about being in close proximity to the strange white, bony beast with its needle sharp teeth and clawed hands and Thorn didn’t blame her one damn bit. He was doubly glad he’d insisted on coming with her tonight.

“Well, it’s definitely male,” he growled. For between the strange creature’s legs rose a long phallus, shaded a dull, angry red and roped with veins. At the base of it, a thick black band was placed to constrict around the creature’s member and keep it erect.

Thorn knew he himself would have to wear something similar tonight. In fact, Neh’sa had it with her in the small, beaded purse she carried which matched the gorgeous blue and green and turquoise sequined gown she wore. It was called an “everlast constrictor,” but she had declined to put it on him back at her domicile.

“I’ll put it on you in the readiness room at the club. You shouldn’t have to wear it too long,” she told Thorn as she was dressing for the club earlier that evening. “Just during the banquet and the announcement and naming of the new member of the Sacred Seven.”

Thorn’s ears had pricked up at that.

“The Sacred Seven?” he asked carefully, trying to sound casual. “Who are they?”

“The keepers of the Library of All Knowledge,” Neh’sa told him. “It’s a vast repository of learning located on Villala—the smallest of Yonnie Six’s moons. I am one of the Sacred Seven myself, which is why I cannot miss tonight’s banquet.”

“So what are your duties—as one of the, uh, Sacred Seven?” he asked with studied off-handedness. “Do you have to go in and look around every once in a while—make sure the place is being run right?”

“Oh, it’s not a library that’s open to the public.” Neh’sa had sounded shocked at the idea. “Only the Yonnite Council of Mistresses can visit it—along with any female scholars who have applied for entrance that they deem worthy. In fact, for most of the time it’s locked tight and no one can get in or out without the retinal scan and fingerprint of one of the Sacred Seven.”

This was news to Thorn, who hadn’t been able to find out exactly how to access the library. He’d had an idea that maybe Neh’sa had a key of some kind which had been entrusted to her as one of the Sacred Seven. But now she was telling him her key was her body.

It gave him a very uncomfortable feeling to realize that in order to get into the library, he would have to force her to let him in. It would have been so much easier if she had a key or some other opening device he could steal and use on the day of the Ceremony he knew was coming up at the Library itself…

However, now wasn’t the time to think about that, Thorn told himself. Tonight he had to concentrate on keeping Neh’sa safe during the banquet—while parading around with his cock out and hard.

Gods, this planet was so thoroughly fucked up.

“Well, it looks like the guards are allowing Lady Wraith’neck’s new slave to accompany her.” Neh’sa sighed. “Get ready, Thorn—we’re up next. We’ll go straight into the club to the readiness room to put on your everlast.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He watched with a frown as Lady Wraith’neck tugged on what was obviously a reinforced leash to force the tall, bony white creature to follow her, hissing and spitting, into the club. And then Neh’sa’s hover coach moved into position and the door whooshed open.

“Come, Thorn.” Neh’sa slid from the coach and straightened her dress, which fell like a waterfall of blues and greens, clinging lovingly to her full curves and outlining her lush ass.

Thorn couldn’t help staring at her as she moved. The dress, which she wore with ease, seemed designed to torment him even as it showed off her assets to perfection.

The front of it had a low, rounded neckline which bared her breasts, though the tips of her nipples were hidden with fingernail-sized golden modesty patches which didn’t extend far enough to hide the dark pink circles of her areolas. The bottom of the dress was cut to match, clearly revealing tiny golden panties which were no more than a series of triangles arranged in an artful pattern which hid her pussy lips while leaving her slit in the center bare.

Thorn had to admit he was looking forward to the moment of Neh’sa’s announcement into the banquet for then he would be allowed to kneel before her and kiss those tiny panties…and maybe more.

Gods, he really shouldn’t have let himself go down on her last night! It had awakened all kinds of instincts in him—instincts that were purely male and in no way rational.

The Kindred part of him was telling him that he was already halfway to claiming Neh’sa since tasting was usually a part of the Claiming Period most warriors went through with their mates. The Enfuego part was insisting that he keep her locked up somewhere no other male could steal her. Just the thought of anyone else being near to his Mistress made the fire inside him rise, which was going to be a problem if any other male got too close.

Keep it together, he lectured himself sternly. You went almost twenty cycles without a flame-up so you can go another two hours, no matter how crowded it is in that Goddess-damned club.

But his self control, once as hard as rock and as cold as ice, had been eroded little by little by Neh’sa’s training. From her first touch his control had started crumbling until he wasn’t sure what might happen if she was threatened in any way.

I’ll be fine, he told himself uneasily. I have to be.

And he followed Neh’sa through the vast double doors, painted the color of dried blood, into the club.

Chapter Eighteen

Inside it was dim and cloudy and fluorescent lights strobed to the heavy drumming beat of bone-jarring music. There were bodies gyrating on a dance floor which seemed to be made entirely of clear green glass bricks. Tiny holes in some of the bricks periodically shot out powerful jets of air. Every once in a while one of the dancers—most of them Mistresses but also some body-slaves as well—would be lofted ten feet in the air via the air jets and blown into a heavy-duty net positioned at the far end of the room.

Shrieks of laughter and shouts of rage greeted the results of each new blast of air but always the Mistress or slave who had been carried away simply struggled out of the net and went on dancing. Thorn thought some of them looked almost manic, their eyes so wide you could see the whites all the way around and their mouths grimacing with frantic glee.

“Watch out, we need to stay off the dance floor,” Neh’sa spoke in his ear, rather louder than usual to make herself heard. “They’re using spiked dream gas in the blowers. It heightens sensations but it also kills your reality perception. We don’t need to be drugged at the banquet.”

Thorn had to agree with that. They needed to stay sharp to get through tonight—especially with Lady Wraith’neck and her bizarre pet in attendance.

Instead of turning into the main room, they threaded their way down a narrow corridor which housed freshers—a grand one with marble and gold fixtures for the Mistresses and a much smaller and plainer one for the body-slaves—as well as a few other dark rooms.

Some of these rooms had the same gear Neh’sa had in her training area at home—agony crosses to tie a submissive to, whips, canes, paddles, spanking benches…but there were also new pieces of equipment Thorn hadn’t seen before.

In one room he saw a submissive male crouching in a spiked cage with the spikes facing inward. When his Mistress threw a handle on the side of the cage, one wall of spikes slowly inched inward, forcing the hapless slave to skitter to the other side of his iron prison while trying to keep away from the spikes which stuck out from that wall.

It was clear to Thorn that the slave would eventually lose this contest. Hopefully he would only be scratched when the spikes inevitably touched his skin. But if his Mistress was a sadist, well…there were some dark marks on the floor beneath the spiked cage that looked an awful lot like blood.

In another room they passed, Thorn saw a male body-slave bent over a spanking bench with his legs chained wide apart. His Mistress was in the act of inserting a long, thick phallus with painful looking metal knobs imbedded in its surface. Protruding from the end was a series of feathered plumes like a bird’s tail.

To Thorn’s surprise, he recognized the body-slave—it was the male with long, luxurious black hair who had been on display beside him at the auction almost a week ago. The male who had admitted he wanted to submit to a stern Yonnite Mistress.

Thorn wondered how much he was enjoying his submission now.

“Now hold still, Yarks,” the Mistress was telling her slave as she worked to press the thick, metal studded phallus into his nether entrance. “This is just the thing to wear to the banquet tonight. All the other Mistresses will be so jealous.”

“But Mistress, I’ve never had anything so large in me before,” the male protested. He jerked his head so that his long hair wouldn’t hide his face and stared over his shoulder at her appealingly. “Please, Mistress! Perhaps a smaller tail—”

“Shush!” Absently, his Mistress pressed a small silver remote which was attached to her wrist with a slender black cord.

The body-slave gasped and every muscle in his body went tense and jerked in a kind of seizure for a moment.

It was clear to Thorn that his Mistress had activated his pain collar and sent a jolt of agonizing pain through him for daring to disagree with her.

At last he went limp and lay panting over the spanking bench once more.

“Now then, Yarks—who is in charge of which kind of tail you wear tonight?”

“Y-you are, M-m-Mistress,” the body-slave gasped.

“Good. Now that’s established, hold still so I can put this in you. The banquet is about to start and I don’t want to be the last one announced.”

She went back to screwing the metal-studded phallus into her hapless slave’s ass while he bit his lip, clearly trying not to cry out.

“Thorn, come.”

Neh’sa’s voice jerked him out of his contemplation of the scene in the small dark room. Thorn realized he had gotten caught up in watching and hadn’t kept up with his Mistress’s step.

“Forgive me, Mistress.” He strode forward, cursing himself for a fool. He couldn’t let himself get distracted like that—especially when he was here to protect Neh’sa from all the freaks in this place.

“Got caught up in watching a tail insertion, did you?” Her dark eyes danced just a bit as she regarded him.

“I knew that male. He was right beside me at the auction,” Thorn said, not answering her remark about the “tail insertion.”

Neh’sa shook her head. “A pity for him he was bought by Mistress Hell’waist then. She cares for nothing but appearances and doesn’t give a damn if she has to hurt her body-slaves to achieve the desired ‘look’.”

“Why aren’t you making me wear a tail?” The words burst from Thorn’s lips before he could stop them.

Neh’sa arched one perfectly shaped brow at him.

“Do you want to wear a tail?”

Thorn scowled. “You know I don’t.”

“But you would if I wanted you to.” Her voice grew softer. “Which is one reason I won’t ask it of you. Your willingness to serve and submit is enough for me, Thorn—I don’t need physical proof of it. Besides,” she added, reaching up to stroke his cheek, “you had enough trouble with the silver wand I used on you and that was only inside you for a few minutes. I don’t think you’re ready for prolonged penetration yet.”

Prolonged penetration. The thought sent a cold shiver down Thorn’s spine. Gods, no matter how pleasurable it was when Neh’sa penetrated him, he still didn’t think he could ever imagine himself asking for it.

“What is this place, anyway?” he demanded gruffly as they continued down the long, dim corridor. “I thought this was a club, not a Goddess-damned torture chamber.”

“These are just play rooms where Mistresses can try out new and exotic equipment they don’t have at home,” Neh’sa explained. “They—”

But just then a door on their left swung open, revealing a scene that hit Thorn like a blow to the gut.

A body-slave about his age was chained to an agony cross, his arms and legs manacled to the four corners of the X shaped equipment. Behind him was a Mistress holding a whip. But not just any whip—the end of this whip hissed and sparked, tongues of flame licking along its long, snakelike surface.

Thorn bit back a curse. A fire whip—they had a fucking fire whip here!

As he watched, the Mistress flicked the whip with an expert motion of her wrist, causing the end of the fiery lash to lick across the broad, bare expanse of her slave’s back.

The slave howled in agony and a bright red burn mark appeared between his shoulder blades. The Mistress drew back her arm again, a cruel smirk twisting her red lips. Clearly she was just getting started.

“Gods,” Thorn whispered hoarsely. Because of his Enfuego nature and the fire inside him, outer burns were somehow much more difficult to bear than almost any other injury. The pain of his own whipping when he’d been tortured during a past mission came back to him tenfold.

The crackling flames… the hiss of the whip… the faint stench of scorched flesh…the agonizing burn as the lash licks my skin again and again…each blow as painful as a lightning strike…

“Oh Thorn, I’m sorry!” Neh’sa put a small hand on his arm to urge him along the corridor.

But for a moment, Thorn felt frozen in place. He literally couldn’t move—he was too mired in the past. Too stuck in the labyrinth of his own brain.

The whipping was horrible but it was no more than I deserved. A payment for the sins of my past. The last time the fire got loose in me, the last time it overflowed…

“Come,” Neh’sa urged him again. Maybe it was her soft hand on his arm or the loving concern he heard in her voice but finally Thorn found his way out of himself and turned away from the room where the fire whip was being wielded.

“I’m…sorry,” he said haltingly, his voice sounding hoarse and strange in his own ears. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m the one who should apologize,” Neh’sa said. “I knew they had fire whips here but I never dreamed we’d run across someone actually using one. They’re such a sadistic form of punishment. Almost as bad as a branding iron!”

“Which they also have here, I’m guessing?” Thorn said dryly, beginning to recover his composure.

“Well…yes.” Neh’sa sighed. “Of course, some submissives enjoy such extreme punishments. But they aren’t the only ones who get whipped and branded, unfortunately. There are many, many unwilling participants in Yonnite society. We have a very…unequal distribution of power and wealth.”

Her words surprised Thorn.

“Would you have it otherwise?” he asked, frowning.

“Yes. Does that surprise you?” She looked up at him.

“Frankly, yes. You’re at the top of this pyramid, Neh’sa—I would expect you to want to stay there.”

For once she didn’t correct him for calling her by her first name. Instead, a thoughtful look came over her lovely face.

“I wasn’t raised completely on Yonnie Six, you know. My mother inherited this position from a great aunt and moved us here when I was just ten cycles old. She thought it would be good for me since I was already exhibiting extremely…shall we say dominant personality traits.”

Thorn grinned at her.

“You were a little brat, weren’t you?”

“I was more what you would call ‘bossy’ I suppose,” Neh’sa said thoughtfully. “I was always the head of any group, the president of any club, the leader on any imaginary expedition…” One corner of her lush mouth quirked up. “I used to organize games where the males had to crawl on the ground like yola-hounds, fetching sticks for the females, who were their masters. Things like that.”

“I can see why your mother would think the life of a Yonnite Mistress would be a perfect fit,” Thorn said dryly.

“It is…in a way.” Neh’sa sighed pensively. “But I’ve never forgotten my early upbringing. Lylas is a much more fair and even world, you know—probably because everyone can feel everyone else’s emotions.”

“You’d have to be a sadist and a masochist to want to hit someone with a fire whip if you could feel their agony as your own when you did so,” Thorn growled.

“Lylasians feel mostly emotional pain but still, it is enough to make you want to avoid causing that pain if you can help it. It’s one reason I try to be careful of what punishments I use,” she said seriously. “But I don’t avoid them altogether— Pain can be used as a tool—not just a weapon.”

Thorn frowned. “How do you mean?”

She shrugged her slim shoulders. “Just that sometimes physical pain can help to release emotional pain.”

Thorn couldn’t argue with that. He remembered the feeling of needing an intense physical release the last time the fire had almost gotten away from him. Neh’sa had strapped him to the spanking bench and used the silver wand on him then, but would a fire whip across his shoulders and back have worked just as well to contain the flames within him?

Thorn was pretty sure it would have.

Sometimes the inner turmoil grew too great—it had to have an outlet. At least that was how he felt ever since Neh’sa had melted the emotional shields he’d held in place for such a long time.

“Tell me, Neh’sa—do you feel every pain you inflict?” he asked curiously.

“Oh yes. And some I have not inflicted.” She reached up and cupped his cheek in her small, cool palm. “Thorn, I felt the conflict in you when you saw that other slave being lashed. And I had a very strong feeling that you thought it was your fault somehow when you were whipped the same way. That you somehow…deserved it.”

Thorn frowned and jerked away from her hand, straightening up to his full height so she couldn’t reach him.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Mistress,” he growled.

“Yes, you do,” Neh’sa said quietly. “And if you ever want to talk about it, Thorn…I’m here.”

“Speaking of here, is this the readiness room you were talking about?” he asked abruptly, indicating a small room at the end of the long corridor which appeared to be more brightly lit than the punishment areas they’d passed along the way.

Neh’sa sighed. “Yes, it is. Let’s go in so I can put on your everlast. Then we’ll go around to the grand archway to be announced.”

Thorn was glad his change of subject had worked. Despite Neh’sa’s kind offer to talk, he had absolutely no wish to relate his sordid past. Most of the time he was able to hide it, even from himself. It was just that sometimes, certain things brought it up. The fire whip—

But no. Thorn pushed it from his mind as they walked into the small room which looked like a last minute dressing area for Mistresses and their body-slaves.

There was already a Mistress there, wearing a bright green and silver dress which showed her breasts and panties. She was primping anxiously in front of one of the many 3-D viewers that lined one entire wall, trying to get her elaborate hairdo—which had been sculpted to look like an immense ocean wave—just right. Beside her, wearing a thick green collar which matched his Mistress’s dress, was a slave. He was sporting a fully engorged phallus constricted by a matching green band.

“There, Milty—I think we’re ready,” the Mistress said to her slave who looked up at her adoringly. “Are you prepared to kiss my panties?”

“Yes, Mistress,” her slave murmured. “I’ll be pleased to serve you in any way I can.”

“Such a good body-slave.” The Mistress stroked his hair affectionately and he responded by rubbing against her hand, almost like a pet begging for attention.

So apparently not every slave here was unhappy with his lot, Thorn thought as he watched the two greet Neh’sa and then exit the readiness room. There did exist loving and committed relationships in this strange society. They just weren’t often on display.

“Now then,” Neh’sa murmured once they had privacy. “Let’s see what we have to work with.”

She had Thorn stand in the middle of the room and removed the black loincloth he was wearing over his crotchless leather trousers as usual. Unfortunately, the scene they had witnessed in the punishment room with the fire whip and the sadistic Mistress had completely drained him of desire. After watching that, he felt like he might never get hard again.

“Hmm.” Neh’sa frowned as she took his length in one small hand. “What we saw really bothered you didn’t it?” She looked up at Thorn speculatively. “Well let’s see if we can fix that.”

“I can fix it myself if you’ll let me, Mistress,” he said quickly. He knew how important it was for a body slave to display an engorged phallus and he didn’t want to shame her in any way. He started to take himself in hand but the shocks of the non-contact bracelets stopped him. Even if they hadn’t, Neh’sa was already shaking her head.

“No Thorn, I’m your Mistress. Allow me to take care of you.”

“Yes Mistress,” Thorn murmured, wondering exactly how she was going to “take care of him.” He expected her to stroke him to engorgement, and indeed her soft little hands on him were incredibly arousing.

Instead, Neh’sa dropped to her knees before him, heedless of her lovely gown. She looked up at him through the thick fringe of her black lashes.

“I want to feel you grow hard in my mouth,” she said softly.

“Gods, Mistress! You don’t have to—”

She shook her head, silencing his protest.

“Relax Thorn, and let me make you hard.”

Thorn had to bite back a groan as she opened her lush mouth, glossy with deep red lip stain, and took his entire length between her lips at once. Her soft warm tongue bathed his cock, swirling around and around his shaft until he thought he would go crazy from the pleasurable sensation.

Of course he didn’t stay soft for long. All thoughts of the fire whip and his tortured past faded and he felt a rush as his shaft began to fill. Soon he was achingly hard and Neh’sa was left sucking only the broad head of his cock.

“Gods Mistress,” Thorn groaned again, daring to reach down and stroke her soft cheek as she sucked him and swirled the tip of her little pink tongue around his throbbing tip. “That feels incredible. Do other Mistresses do this for their body slaves?”

“Not in public they don’t,” she murmured withdrawing at last. “Though I know many who indulge their… shall we say less than correct fantasies in the privacy of their own domiciles. But you may have noticed by now that I’m not exactly the typical Mistress.”

She leaned forward again and pressed her lips to the side of his aching shaft, leaving a clear imprint of her lush lips in the red lip stain she wore.

It’s like she’s fucking branding me, Thorn thought. If so it was a brand he would gladly wear.

“There now, I think you’re hard enough,” Neh’sa murmured.

Rising, she reached into her beaded bag and withdrew the everlast band. It fit around the base of his cock and twisted around the base of his balls as well, making both feel sensitive and vulnerable.

On display, Thorn thought with a mixture of pride and shame. No male should be so willing to be exploited just for the pleasure of his female and yet he couldn’t help himself – he wanted Neh’sa to be proud of him. Wanted to make a good showing before the other Mistresses in order to please her and bring her status.

“You look lovely Thorn,” Neh’sa told him with a smile. “I’m so proud to have you at my side.”

“I’m proud to be here,” Thorn told her and it was true. “You look lovely too, Mistress,” he added, taking in her nearly bare breasts and the opening in her panties that showed the naked slit of her pussy. “If you’d just given me a minute to look at you in that dress, you wouldn’t have had to suck me.”

“But I wanted to suck you,” Neh’sa purred. Taking his shaft in her hand, she stroked from the root of his cock all the way up the broad head until a single bead of precum appeared on his slit. Leaning down, she lapped it away with a single stroke of her little pink tongue. “I enjoy your flavor.”

“As I enjoy yours, Mistress,” Thorn growled, his cock throbbing in her hand.

Her cheeks went pink, but she ignored his reference to the night before when he’d taken control and tasted her pussy until she came for him—came over and over until he finally allowed her to stop.

“Come,” she murmured. “It’s time we were announced and entered the banquet. The sooner we get this over with the better.”

She swept from the room, leaving Thorn to follow in her wake.

Chapter Nineteen

The large golden arch which led into the banquet hall of Club Carnivorous was located down a long set of stairs and around a corner from the readiness room. There was no way to see what other Mistresses might be waiting to be announced—which was how Neh’sa had the bad luck to turn the corner just as Lady Wraith’neck and her strange pale, bony beast were next in line.

She might have peaked around the corner—might have thought to check first before coming out into the open by the golden arch. But her mind had been full of the little scene she’d just played out with Thorn—the strong, salty taste of him filled her mouth and his presence at her back filled her mind. She hadn’t been lying—she loved his flavor. Not to mention the way he groaned in the back of his throat when she took him in her mouth…

But I didn’t only do it for my own gratification, Neh’sa told herself. I wanted to try and take his mind off the Mistress with the fire whip.

Indeed, the internal pain she’d felt coming from him and the look of mute horror on his face had been enough to freeze her in her tracks. And that feeling—so strong and relentless—that he’d deserved the pain. That he was somehow atoning for something…but what?

The feeling had shaken Neh’sa to her core. She usually just got more general sensations of pain or emotional upset from those around her and mostly only when she “tuned in” to them. With Thorn, she seemed to be tuned in all the time. And this time it had been hard to bear.

What happened to him in the past that made him feel he deserves to be hurt? she wondered. He’d been tortured before by his own admission yet he never seemed to want to talk about it. Also, he’d been prepared to allow her to do things he didn’t want done to his body…until she’d shown him sometimes that which is fearful can also be pleasurable.

Was he trying to make up for something—allowing himself to be hurt over and over? Was he—

Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as they rounded the corner and found themselves face to face with Lady Wraith’neck and the hideous pale beast she was passing off as a body-slave.

“Well, well—hello, Neh’sanna.” Lady Wraith’neck sounded extremely pleased to see her. “I’m so glad you could make it tonight.”

“Of course,” Neh’sa heard herself saying through numb lips. “The announcement of a new member in our ranks—the ranks of the Sacred Seven. I couldn’t miss it.”

“Of course not—being one of the Seven yourself.” Lady Wraith’neck’s thin upper lip curled. This was an honor she professed to care nothing about yet Neh’sa could feel the painful jealousy welling out of the other woman’s pores like poison sweat.

Or maybe it was the new perfume Lady Wraith’neck was wearing that she was sensing. It was an odd, very unpleasant musky scent which made her wrinkle her nose.

“I wonder who the Yonnite Council has chosen to take the open chair,” Neh’sa said, deciding to make small talk since the other Mistress was acting civil for once. “Madam Thrust’much has had a difficult decision to make after Lady Gret’long stepped down as our seventh.”

Madam Ulala Thrust’much was the Grand Dame of the Council as well as the judge and arbiter for all of the inner fights and squabbles between Mistresses. She oversaw Yonnite high society with an iron will and no one dared to disobey her.

“Yes indeed, Uly has a difficult choice.” Lady Wraith’neck smirked, as if she knew something Neh’sa didn’t. “I was telling her so just the other day when I had her over to my domicile to try a proprietary new dream gas blend. She was quite taken with it—it’s rather addictive but so lovely.”

“Well, I—” Suddenly Neh’sa gave a little shriek—something ice cold had stroked over the back of her calf.

Looking down, she saw the hideous pale beast had dropped to its knees and was snuffling around her feet and legs. Its long arms were still strapped to its sides but somehow it had gotten a thin, forked tongue through the metal and crystal of its muzzle and had managed to lick Neh’sa’s leg.

“Get the hell away from her, you fucker.” Thorn planted one booted foot in the center of the creature’s chest and kicked, hard. It flew backwards, the momentum dragging against the leash in Lady Wraith’neck’s grip and nearly yanking it out of her hands. The beast landed sprawling on its spiny back, hissing and spitting.

“Watch what you’re doing, idiot!” Lady Wraith’neck said sharply. “You’ve already cost me one expensive slave—I won’t have you ruining another before I’ve even prosecuted your Mistress for the loss of the first one!”

“Thorn was just trying to protect me,” Neh’sa protested.

“Oh, yes—I know all about that brute’s methods of protection,” the other Mistress snapped. “And never fear, Neh’sa—I’ve been telling everyone of my acquaintance what a savage he is and how he can’t be trusted.” She arched an eyebrow at Neh’sa. “I think it might have affected your fine reputation as a slave trainer. Losing control of your body-slave the way you did and letting him run amok.”

That, of course, was precisely what Lady Wraith’neck had done but Neh’sa knew the other Mistress well enough to be certain she would have twisted the story of what happened at the Devotion Ceremony into a narrative where she herself was the ill-used heroine and Neh’sa was the neglectful hostess with the brutish, half-wild male who had injured Lady Wraith’neck’s own body-slave.

She also knew there was no point in fighting about it. In fact, another conflict—especially in full view of all the most powerful Mistresses in Opulex—was probably exactly what Lady’ Wraith’neck was after.

So, though she heard the low, warning growl rising from Thorn’s throat, she ignored the implied insult and changed the subject.

What is that thing on your leash, anyway?” she asked. “Surely it can’t be sentient.”

“It’s a night-slinker from Nightmare Seven in the Hell System.” The other Mistress lifted her chin proudly. “They don’t need eyes there, you know.” She nodded at the creature’s round, bulbous head which had no organs of sight of any kind that Neh’sa could see. “The entire planet is almost always in blackness. That’s why their sense of smell is so acute—it helps them track prey. But as for your question, they are semi-sentient—enough to be trained as body-slaves.”

The night-slinker had already gotten back to its feet and was sliding towards Neh’sa again. The slits of its nostrils opened wide as it scented her and its long black tongue snaked out between nonexistent lips to curl around the edges of its muzzle.

Almost like its tracking me! she thought and shivered.

“Oh dear—he’s got your scent now and he appears to be quite taken with it.” Lady Wraith’neck tittered most unpleasantly. “What a shame.”

“What…what do you mean?” Neh’sa asked, hating the catch she heard in her voice. She really didn’t like this thing—it gave her the cold chills.

“It means he likes you, my dear Neh’sanna.” Lady Wraith’neck smirked at her. “I’m afraid once one of these magnificent beasts decides it finds your personal scent alluring it won’t stop tracking you until it finds a way to get you alone.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Thorn demanded, putting himself between Neh’sa and the night-slinker. “Are you threatening my Mistress?”

Lady Wraith’neck’s yellowish eyes flashed malevolently.

“Of course not. I would never dream of threatening the eminent Lady Neh’sanna—she of the saintly non-cruelty causes and the private Mercy clinic which helps all the poor, downtrodden males that no one else in our society cares for.” She made exaggerated kissing noises at Neh’sa. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe it’s my turn to be announced. Come, Slinker.” She tugged on the leash, forcing the night-slinker—which still seemed much too interested in Neh’sa—to come to heel at her side as the herald at the door announced her.

“Lady Wraith’neck is now in attendance!” he boomed. This was the point at which her body-slave was supposed to kiss her panties but Neh’sa didn’t see how the other Mistress would compel the strange, pale beast on the end of her leash to do such a thing. Or indeed, why she would want to. The needle-sharp teeth that lined its gaping maw looked much better suited to ripping out throats than making a tender obeisance.

She saw the other Mistress yank on the leash again, forcing the slinker to kneel forward on its long, awkwardly jointed legs until its face was nearly at her crotch. Its slitted nostrils flared and it yanked backwards, clearly repelled by her in some way.

Maybe it was reacting to the new perfume Lady Wraith’neck was wearing. That odd, musky odor wasn’t very attractive but then, nothing about Lady Wraith’ neck was attractive, Neh’sa thought.

“What was that all about? You think she was trying to give you a message?” Thorn demanded in a low voice. His mismatched eyes blazed as he watched Lady Wraith’neck make a bow to the assembled Mistresses and go to find her seat at the low tables scattered around the banquet floor.

Neh’sa sighed and shook her head.

“I have no idea—anything is possible with Lady Wraith’neck. I think the most likely thing is that she’s going to try and sue me somehow. Actually, I’m surprised I haven’t heard from her barrister yet.” She looked up at him. “I think it’s also safe to say she’s been spreading some pretty nasty rumors about what happened at the Devotion Ceremony—about you in particular, Thorn.”

He snorted. “Yeah, that’s what it sounds like. Don’t worry, Mistress—we’ll prove her wrong.”

“We have to,” Neh’sa told him earnestly. “And you mustn’t lose your temper, no matter what awful things Lady Wraith’neck says. She wants to make a public scene. We can’t let that happen.”

“I’ll be the perfect body-slave,” Thorn promised her gravely. One corner of his mouth twitched up in a charming, lopsided grin. “Aren’t I always?”

“My Lady,” whispered the herald, before Neh’sa could reply. He was an older male who had been announcing for the club for as long as Neh’sa had been a Mistress. “Are you and your body-slave ready for your announcement to the banquet?”

Neh’sa straightened her dress with both hands and ran her fingers through her hair. Rather than making her long, dark tresses into an elaborate updo for the banquet, she had decided to let her hair fall naturally around her shoulders and down her back.

“Are you ready?” she asked Thorn, feeling just a flutter of nerves, as she always did during her first announcement with a new body-slave she was training. “You remember the protocol?”

“Perfectly, Mistress,” he growled softly. “Don’t worry, I can manage.”

“Good. Then let’s do it, just the way we practiced.” She looked at the herald and nodded her head. “We’re ready.”

“Very good, my Lady.” The herald bowed his head respectfully and then lifted a silver, twisted mula-horn to his lips and blew a thin, echoing blast. “Please come to attention for one of the Sacred Seven—Mistress Neh’sanna,” he called importantly.

As Neh’sa stepped beneath the golden archway which led into the grand banquet hall, she was keenly aware that all eyes were not on her, but rather on Thorn who was standing behind her.

She was certain there were all kinds of rumors about her new Kindred body-slave—not many of them complimentary. Lady Wraith’neck would doubtless be trying to paint him as a brutal, untrained savage who disrespected other Mistresses and refused to be submissive. Much of Neh’sa’s reputation as a trainer would be riding on how Thorn behaved tonight.

Thorn seemed to be aware of this fact because he ignored the scrutiny of the crowd of Mistresses and dropped gracefully to his knees before her.

“Mistress,” he rumbled with just the right note of submissiveness in his deep voice. “May I make obeisance to you?”

Neh’sa was relieved at how well he was playing his part and she couldn’t help the fluttering she felt around her heart when she looked down into those lovely, mismatched eyes.

“Yes, Thorn. You may,” she murmured.

She spread her legs slightly, allowing him enough room to get between her thighs and kiss the golden materials of her panties.

But when he pressed his lips to her flesh, it wasn’t her panties he kissed. Neh’sa was surprised to feel his hot mouth first on her left thigh, and then on her right. Goddess, what was he doing?

Looking down, she realized that the big Kindred was pressing kisses to her body in a kind of pattern—hips, thighs, belly…he was slowly and reverently moving inward, showing his utter dedication to her as he did, by taking his time to get to her panties.

Neh’sa wanted to make him stop but somehow she seemed to lack the willpower. Besides, she told herself, if she tried to stop him, it would seem as though this display was not her idea and Thorn was being disobedient. Whereas if she allowed him to continue, his actions would appear to be a display of devotion.

Right?

Oh, Goddess—right. That has to be right, her mind moaned as the soft, gentle kisses continued to work their way inward.

This was nothing like the hungry, almost animal way he’d gone down on her the night before. The burning desire was still there—Neh’sa could sense it in the tight set of his shoulders and the possessive way his big hands cradled her ass. But the burning was now tempered with respect and gentleness.

She couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to let Thorn taste her while he was in this mood—this sweet, tender mood where he seemed determined to show her how very much he cared for her through these slow, heated kisses.

And then, abruptly, she didn’t have to wonder. Because finally, after kissing his way all around her thighs and placing his lips on the mound of her pussy, Thorn at last pressed his mouth to the center of her panties—which was bare, clearly showing her naked slit.

“Thorn—” she started to protest involuntarily but her breath was stolen by the sweetness of his kiss.

Softly, gently, he kissed her—almost as though he was kissing her mouth. Then he teased along the edges of her slit delicately with just the tip of his tongue, as though asking for entrance.

With a low moan she couldn’t quite contain, Neh’sa gave him permission by spreading her thighs, just a little wider.

The first, slow slide of his tongue into her pussy made her bite her lip and grasp his broad shoulders for support. Oh Goddess, she shouldn’t be allowing this! And yet how could she stop him without making him look disobedient and casting shame on her own reputation as a trainer?

Can’t help it, Neh’sa told herself, gripping his shoulders even tighter for support as the big Kindred continued his slow, lingering and increasingly deepening kiss. Just have to let him finish.

But Goddess, it seemed like he never would! His long eyelashes had fluttered down and his grip on her ass and hips was firm and unbreakable as he continued to kiss deeper and deeper, his tongue swirling expertly around the tender bump of her clit, sending electrical tingles of pleasure through her entire body. He had the look of a male completely immersed in an intensely pleasurable activity—one he might never want to stop.

Never should have worn these panties, Neh’sa told herself deliriously. Not after finding out how Kindred need to taste their females.

Though she would have thought that the marathon session the night before would have at least blunted his desire, Thorn showed no inclination to stop tasting her. Neh’sa could feel the tip of his tongue sliding deeper, seeking to find her entrance and then sliding up again to bathe her clit with his warmth and desire.

“Oh!” she moaned aloud—she couldn’t help herself. “Oh, Thorn…” If he didn’t stop soon, she was going to come—come right here in public! She was certain of it…

Her voice seemed to waken him from a trance he’d somehow fallen into. He blinked and looked up at her, pulling away at last.

“Forgive me, Mistress if I carried my obeisance to you too far.” His deep voice was hoarse with passion and his lips were shiny with her juices. “You taste so good—I couldn’t help myself.”

“That…that’s all right, Thorn,” Neh’sa murmured faintly. In fact, she sort of wished he hadn’t stopped. Though it would have been embarrassing to come in public, at least it would have eased the tension she now felt between her thighs. Her pussy ached like it was bruised—desperate for more of his hot mouth on her, of his tongue sliding into her inner folds to caress the innermost parts of her…

No, stop! Get hold of yourself, Neh’sa and get to your place in the banquet, she lectured herself sharply.

With a deep bow to the assembled Mistresses, who had all gone completely silent as they watched Thorn make his obeisance, she left the golden arch and went to find her place in the room.

* * * * *

The Yonnite Mistresses were buzzing as Neh’sa found her spot at a low table near the center of the banquet hall. Thorn could feel their eyes on him and he caught snatches of conversation as he followed her, two steps behind, as a proper body-slave should.

“…not nearly as savage as Lady Wraith’neck made him out to be.”

“…thought he was supposed to be wild and untamed? But look at how perfectly he behaved while making his obeisance.”

“…as I always say—Lady Neh’sanna is a miracle worker! She can turn even the wildest slave into a perfect submissive.”

Thorn was glad to hear that his Mistress’s reputation was intact but he was angry with himself for going too far. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to kiss Neh’sa’s pussy again—especially not so deeply. Every time he tasted her the primal feelings of possessiveness grew and the fire inside him rose a little higher.

Need to keep my hands and mouth off her, he told himself firmly. But even as he lectured himself, he couldn’t help licking his lips to catch the last faint traces of her honey. Gods, she tasted so damn good. And the way she moaned and gripped his shoulders when he put his tongue inside her—as though she would collapse from the pleasure if she didn’t have someone to support her—it was enough to drive a male crazy with desire!

Neh’sa settled herself at a small round table, on a large, puffy blue cushion embroidered with golden thread. The floor beneath the table had a sunken area which Thorn assumed was a place for Mistresses to put their feet. That was, until he saw several of the body-slaves crouching in the small area with their heads buried between their Mistresses legs.

Hmm, and I thought Neh’sa said it was considered improper to orally service your Mistress—but maybe all of them are just “kissing panties.” Much like he had just been doing. Thorn wondered if Neh’sa would require him to kiss her there again as she ate her supper.

Part of him longed for it—wanted to get between her thighs and lap her pussy until she moaned and writhed at the table. But a larger part knew that would be foolish—the fire was already too near the surface. Even now he could feel the heat growing and the flames dancing in his eyes. He didn’t need to do anything else that would strain his already rapidly deteriorating control.

“Mistress,” he murmured as Neh’sa settled herself. “What would you have me do? Where should I be?”

“Just kneel beside me, Thorn and feed me tidbits as we practiced,” she whispered. “There’s no need for any, ah…further service.”

Though he was disappointed at not being able to taste her again, Thorn knew this was probably for the best.

“Yes, Mistress.” He knelt beside her, on her right side, his knees spread wide and his aching shaft jutting out in front of him.

Gods, he hoped Neh’sa would give him some relief when this damn banquet was finished and they went back to her domicile. He still wore the non-contact bands around his wrists, making self pleasure completely impossible. But after tasting her and having her taste him earlier, he felt like he might explode if he wasn’t allowed to come soon.

He looked around the room, trying to distract himself and get the lay of the land at the same time. There were perhaps fifty Mistresses gathered in the banquet hall, all of them sitting at their own private tables. The tables were close enough, however, that each Mistress could carry on a discrete conversation with her neighbors.

Unfortunately, Neh’sa’s immediate neighbors were Lady Wraith’neck, who was still holding tight to the leash of the night-slinker, which she had forced down into the shallow well beneath her table, and Lady Lee’Lah, the blonde Mistress whom had taken offense when he had declined to taste her. She was doing her best to ignore Neh’sa, and Lady Wraith’neck was busy fighting with the night-slinker, which was prowling restlessly at her feet. Not that Neh’sa would want to talk to either one of them, Thorn thought grimly.

The banquet was a long, boring affair during which several Mistresses rose from their places and spoke to the room at large about Yonnite values and society and other high-flown, lofty concepts which didn’t mean much of anything as far as Thorn was concerned.

Circulating among the tables, which were like tiny islands dotting the landscape of the banquet hall, were serving slaves bearing trays of various sweet and savory foods. Thorn took it upon himself to offer each dish in turn to Neh’sa and scoop some onto her plate if she nodded.

Quite a few of the Yonnite dishes appeared to include living things. There was a bowl full of red and green grains that moved and shifted—apparently these were honey grubs from a distant land. Quite a delicacy, or so the serving slave assured him. There were also bright blue worms as long as his arm and beetles as large across as his palm with shiny, iridescent shells which had to be pried off so that the guts of the sluggishly struggling creatures could be sucked out with a glass straw.

Neh’sa refused all of these dishes with a shiver of distaste and only nodded when the platter or bowl being offered contained purely vegetable or fruit matter.

Thorn had observed this about her before during their meals together—she was what people from Earth would have called a “vegetarian.” He wondered if her refusal to eat meat had anything to do with the way she could feel the pain of others. Then again, did her ability to feel emotions include animals? He was making a mental note to ask her when an elderly Mistress who looked to be nearing her hundredth year rose from her place in the very center of the room and began to speak.

“Now then, Mistresses—welcome to the two hundred and twentieth annual Sacred Seven Banquet.”

Despite her ancient appearance, she was dressed as grandly as any of the younger females in a silver and black gown. Her white hair had been shellacked into a glossy wave that parted down the middle, making it look like each half of it was trying to fly off her head in different directions.

“That’s Lady Ulala Thrust’much,” Neh’sa whispered to him. “She’s the Grand Dame of the Yonnite Council of Mistresses and the arbiter of all disagreements among Yonnite society members.”

“She’s the one who’s supposed to pick a new member of the Sacred Seven, right?” Thorn murmured, offering her a pale lavender blossom which was coated in a thin, brittle layer of blue sugar.

“Exactly.” Neh’sa nodded and allowed him to place the delicate flower between her lips where it melted away almost immediately. “She wields a great deal of power because she’s generally believed to be incorruptible.”

“Why is that? Because she’s richer than the Goddess herself and can’t be bought?” Thorn kept his voice low, meant for Neh’sa’s ears alone.

She gave him a small smile. “That and the fact that she’s too old to care what anyone else thinks of her.”

“Who do you think she’s chosen to be the new member of the Sacred Seven?” Thorn was genuinely curious. He had come to the banquet tonight not just to protect Neh’sa but also hoping to identify the other six members of the group which held the keys to the Library of All Knowledge.

“Rumor has it that Lady Nick’wrist over there in the far corner is a shoo-in.” Neh’sa nodded at a plump, pretty Mistress who was dressed in a bright green and pink dress. “She’s very active in our community and she’s also been extremely helpful to me with my anti-pain collar cause.” Neh’sa nodded approvingly. “Lady Thrust’much doesn’t approve of wanton cruelty or Mistresses who misuse their power—she tends to reward restraint and thoughtfulness.”

Which was doubtless how Neh’sa herself had gained such a high honor, Thorn thought. He listened with more interest to what the ancient Mistress was saying, though it mostly made him uncomfortable. She spoke at length about what a grand undertaking it had been for the Mistresses of Yonnie Six to assemble such a vast array of information and how protecting it was a sacred trust so that no foreign power could ever break in and steal the knowledge contained within.

Uneasily, Thorn considered how it would look when he had to force Neh’sa to help him open the doors of the sacred Library. Her reputation would be ruined afterwards—her status among her peers lost.

No, he thought, shifting uncomfortably on his knees as he fed Neh’sa more sugared blossoms. No, surely it won’t be that way. They’ll understand that I tricked her—that it wasn’t her fault.

But what would it say about her judgment that she’d been so completely fooled by a male—a member of what these people considered the inferior sex? Would anyone ever trust Neh’sa to train a body-slave for them again? And if they didn’t, how would she live? The red-haired male he’d met at her Mercy clinic had told him Neh’sa had poured almost all of her fortune into it. How could she keep on funding the clinic—which was obviously vitally important to her—if she had no more clients?

These and other questions continued to plague him until Lady Thrust’much said, “And now, I wish to announce the newest member of the Sacred Seven who will be invested with the powers accorded to her rank and station here tonight.”

A wave of whispers swept over the banquet hall. This was the highest honor a Yonnite Mistress could aspire to and Thorn could see hope on all the assembled faces. Everyone wanted to be the one chosen and all of them thought they had a chance, no matter how slim.

“And the new member of the Sacred Seven is…” Mistress Thrust’much paused dramatically, a frown playing around her wrinkled mouth. To Thorn, it looked like she had a mouthful of something sour she wanted to spit out but couldn’t. “The newest member is…” The old Mistress coughed and took a drink of some pale blue liquid that might have been alcoholic in nature. “Is Lady Malisha Wraith’neck,” she said at last in a flat voice.

For a moment there was dead silence in the banquet hall. Then all the Mistresses began talking at once. Many glances were thrown in Lady Wraith’neck’s direction as well as the hapless Lady Nick’wrist who sat at her tiny table looking shocked and upset.

But Thorn only had eyes for Neh’sa. She didn’t say a word but her face had gone very pale and her full lips had compressed to a thin, white line of disapproval.

“Mistress?” he murmured, feeling worried about her. “Neh’sa?”

“Excuse me.” She rose suddenly, shaking out the creases in her gown.

Thorn started to rise too but she motioned him to kneel back down.

“No, Thorn. I’m just somewhat startled, that’s all…I need a little time alone.”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” he protested. “Not in a place like this.”

“I’m not going to the dance floor or anywhere outside the club,” she told him. “I’ll just take a little trip to the fresher. It might help me clear my head. You couldn’t follow me in there anyway.”

“I suppose not.” Thorn sank unwillingly back to his knees.

As Neh’sa was preparing to exit the banquet hall, Lady Wraith’neck was also standing. She shot Neh’sa a look of pure, malevolent triumph. Clearly she was about to make some kind of a speech of acceptance. Thorn wished he didn’t have to hear it but as Neh’sa had practically ordered him to stay put, it seemed he had no choice.

“Don’t leave yet, Neh’sanna,” she said, sneering as the other Mistress passed her. “I have a gift for you—for all my fellow Mistresses who are part of the Sacred Seven. Here.”

She thrust something like a long metal poker with a flattened end into Neh’sa’s hands.

“What…what is this?” Neh’sa murmured, still looking shocked and deeply troubled.

“A self heating branding iron of course. All you have to do is press the button on the handle and you’re in business.”

Lady Wraith’neck smirked at her and demonstrated with a similar iron she was holding in her hand. One press of the button and the flat bottom which must be the brand grew suddenly cherry-red with heat.

“For branding those troublesome slaves who don’t respond to the pain collar. I had this one made especially for you—your family crest is the brand,” Lady Wraith’neck purred with malicious satisfaction.

“You…I…” Neh’sa shook her head, clearly at a loss for words and Thorn couldn’t blame her. Lady Wraith’neck’s “gift” flew directly in the face of everything Neh’sa believed in. Finally she just shook her head and took her leave, the hateful branding iron hanging limp in her hand, as though she didn’t know what to do with it.

Lady Wraith’neck lost no time in handing out more of the personalized self-heating branding irons to the other members of the Sacred Seven and even bestowed one on Lady Thrust’much herself.

“Thank you, Lady Thrust’much for this exquisite honor,” she began as Neh’sa stepped quietly beneath the golden arch and disappeared from view. “I’m so touched by this appointment though I must say, I think it’s been a long time in coming…”

Thorn tuned her out as she continued to boast, his thoughts turning to Neh’sa instead. Was she upset? Well, obviously but how upset was she? He knew she disliked Lady Wraith’neck who was a truly toxic bitch. And now she would have to work with her as one of the Sacred Seven—with the ceremony for the Library of All Knowledge coming up in only a few days.

Thorn wondered if the sadistic Mistress would bring her night-slinker body-slave with her to the Library or leave it behind. He couldn’t imagine how they could conduct a ceremony with a beast like that roaming around…wait.

Thorn frowned. Speaking of the night-slinker, where was it?

He looked under Lady Wraith’neck’s table but it wasn’t there anymore. It wasn’t at her side, either. In fact, as he scanned the banquet hall, he realized it wasn’t anywhere in the huge room.

He scooted closer to Lady Wraith’neck’s area, wanting to get a better look into the shadowy well under her table and make sure the night-slinker wasn’t just balled up down there and hiding.

The beast was gone but what he saw gave Thorn a cold chill down his spine—there were several pieces of metal and leather lying loose in the floor.

The first one he recognized as the strap the night-slinker had worn around its arms to keep them fastened securely to its side. The second thing was its muzzle.

Thorn began to get a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach and within him, the fire blazed up. Neh’sa was all alone in this fucking club and Lady Wraith’neck’s predatory night-slinker was unbound, unmuzzled, and missing.

What in the Seven Hells was he going to do?

Chapter Twenty

Neh’sa wandered down the long, narrow corridor that led to the Mistresses’ fresher, feeling blindsided by Lady Thrust’much’s strange decision. What could possibly be going on with the Grande Dame of the Council? Why would she make such a move—confer such an honor on someone like the sadistic, reprehensible Lady Wraith’neck?

She glanced down at the personalized, self-heating branding iron which bore her crest on it—a scripted, curving capital N in the center surrounded by glyphs for self-control, open-mindedness, and justice. These were the things Neh’sa believed in—not the heedless, petulant, sadistic form of punishment which would lead her to brand an unwilling body-slave. As if she would ever even consider using such a thing!

Neh’sa was tempted to throw the hateful brand from her and she almost did but then she considered where she was. Club Carnivorous was packed tonight and the building that housed it was old and probably had more than a few code violations. There was alcohol everywhere, not to mention the highly flammable spiked dream gas floating above the dance floor.

In short, the place was a tinderbox waiting to be lit and the stupid self-heating brand was a fire hazard. Reluctantly, Neh’sa kept hold of it.

She finally reached the Mistresses’ fresher, and turned slowly into the pink marbled area, gilded with touches of gold and Vrian velvet. She didn’t actually have to relieve herself, she just wanted an excuse – any excuse – to get away from lady Wraith’neck and her horrible gloating. Sinking down onto a gold and velvet couch, Neh’sa dropped the hateful branding iron on the cushions beside her and put her head in her hands.

What was she going to do? The ceremony for the re-dedication of the Library of All Knowledge was just two days away. It was a cause she had worked for and truly believed in, in the past. But now the addition of Lady Wraith’neck seemed to sully it. Just the idea of appearing in public with the other Mistress and having to acknowledge her as one of the Sacred Seven made Neh’sa’s stomach turn. How could she align herself with such a woman? How could she ever…

A soft hissing sound cut through her thoughts and made her raise her head. Was there a dream gas leak somewhere? But how could that be this far from the dance floor? But if it wasn’t a leak, what could be making the strange sound?

Neh’sa had thought she was alone in the fresher but now she rose slowly and craned her neck to try and peer over the tops of the pink marble stalls to her right.

“Hello?” She called uncertainly. “Is anyone there?”

The hissing grew louder. It appeared to be coming from the stall furthest from her. For some reason the sound gave Neh’sa a very bad feeling. She felt the short hairs along the back of her neck begin to rise and her stomach clenched like a slow, slick fist.

“Hello?” She said again, this time backing up instead of walking forward. “If someone’s in here, let me know. Are you all right? Are you sick? I can get you some help…”

Her words died away as the stall door slowly swung outward. Crouched inside the plush necessary room with its seat of velvet and its walls of shiny pink marble was the strange pale, bony beast Lady Wraith’neck had brought as her body slave.

“Oh…” Neh’sa breathed, uncertain of what to do.

The blind bulbous head turned towards the sound of her voice, the nostril slits flaring to show a red lining that pulsed like blood through an artery. There was no muzzle on the creature now and when it opened its mouth, it seemed that its teeth had grown. The long, thin needle-like fangs were at least the length of Neh’sa’s index finger and when the creature’s lipless mouth stretched into a grin, they grew longer still.

Horrified by the sight, Neh’sa bit back a gasp and took another shuffling step back. At once, the creature’s head jerked up, its nostrils flaring again as though it was tracking her.

Oh my Goddess it’s hunting me, she thought. It seemed that her heart had lodged itself right in her throat, blocking her airway and making it difficult to breathe.

What is it doing out of its restraints? How did it get off the muzzle it was wearing?

She had no answers but she was about to have plenty of problems if she didn’t get away from the night slinker before it found her.

Neh’sa wondered if she was agile enough—quiet enough—to sneak around it and out the fresher door. After all, it was blind. She took a slow step to the right, trying to be as noiseless as possible.

But the blind white head jerked up again, still clearly tracking her location. Slowly it raised itself to its full height of nearly 8 standard feet tall and hissed again—a low, somehow horribly curious sound. It seemed almost to be staring right at her, even though that was impossible because it couldn’t see. Could it be that its other senses were so acute there was no hiding from it even though it was blind?

Neh’sa certainly hoped not. Though Lady Wraith’neck had claimed that night-slinkers were semi-sentient, she saw nothing but animal cunning on the strange alien face. Nothing but the blind hunger of a predator searching for its prey, and she was that prey.

Goddess help me, she prayed, feeling sick with fear. What am I going to do?

The iron, whispered a little voice in her head that didn’t sound like her own. Remember the branding iron. You left it on the couch behind you. It’s your only weapon – use it.

Heeding the voice, Neh’sa took another step back towards the pink velvet and gold sofa. The night-slinker tracked her alertly, its head moving in quick jerking motions almost like a bird’s as it registered her movements.

Heart pounding in her chest, Neh’sa felt blindly for the long metal pole of the branding iron, not daring to take her eyes from the pale beast even for a second. She had an idea that it would spring the moment it didn’t think she was looking. It made no sense really, but she couldn’t help thinking it. So she kept her eyes glued to Lady Wraith’neck’s pale beast, hoping against hope that it would leave her alone. But she couldn’t forget the other Mistress’s words:

“I’m afraid once one of these magnificent beasts decides it finds your personal scent alluring it won’t stop tracking you until it finds a way to get you alone.”

Was that the problem? Did the night-slinker like the way she smelled? It certainly hadn’t seemed to like the way Lady Wraith’neck smelled – that was, if the way it had jerked away from her every time it got near her was any indication. Neh’sa remembered the strange, unpleasant, musky perfume the other Mistress had been wearing. Perhaps it was some kind of repellent? Some way to keep the strange beast she had brought from fixating on her?

Neh’sa’s thoughts were interrupted when the night-slinker took a slow measured pace towards her, its blind head cocked to one side as though listening intently. Its long, snaky black tongue with the forked end slithered out, as though tasting the air.

Looking for me, Neh’sa thought numbly. It’s tasting the air to see if it can catch my scent.

She gripped the heavy metal branding iron tightly in one sweating fist. She had to get out of here, slip past this thing and get back to the banquet hall. She had to…

At that moment, the night slinker launched itself at her.

It happened so fast, Neh’sa almost didn’t see it coming. One moment she was staring up into the strange blind face with its long snaking tongue and slitted red nostrils, and the next it was flying through the air directly towards her.

Its mouth gaped wide, its needle sharp teeth as long as her hand now. There could be no doubt about its intentions. It was going to take her head off with one monstrous bite.

She was going to die.

No, I can’t die – I won’t!

Neh’sa swung the iron, almost reflexively. If she had taken time to aim it, she probably would’ve missed. But her protective instincts kicked in and her body seemed to go into automatic mode. She saw her arm draw back and swing the heavy metal brand at the creature rushing her. Then she felt, rather than saw, the brand connect with its blind white face.

It made a hissing scream and jumped back as though it had been burned.

Which it hasn’t, because I forgot to turn the damn branding iron on, Neh’sa thought semi-hysterically. What the hell is wrong with me?

She fumbled at the handle looking for the button to turn the brand on but she was almost too late. The creature, still clearly intent on having her for dinner, sprang at her again.

Neh’sa swung as hard as she could but the brand was only half hot when it connected with the thin, white shoulder.

It gave another screaming hiss, its nostril slits wrinkling in rage. Crouching in the corner of the fresher, it prepared to spring again.

Clearly it wasn’t giving up any time soon.

That’s all right, Neh’sa thought grimly. Neither am I.

The iron was red-hot now, the metal a glowing rose-gold that reminded her of the flames that grew in Thorn’s eyes when he got angry or upset.

Thorn, she thought, her heart squeezing painfully in her chest. If only I’d let you come with me to the fresher like you wanted to. If she had, she might not be fighting for her life right now. The night-slinker was strong and horribly fast but Neh’sa had an idea the big Kindred would somehow be able to handle it.

Of course, she would never know because she had foolishly come to the fresher by herself.

“Come on,” she said to the crouching white beast, its blind head turned towards her, its maw wrinkled in a hissing scowl. “Just come on and try it.”

The slinker sprang at her a third time, but this time Neh’sa was fully ready for it. Instead of swinging, she crouched and held the burning hot iron at an arms length, gripping it tightly with both hands.

The night-slinker ran right into the iron, its bony chest connecting with the heated surface of the brand as its hideously long teeth snapped in her face.

Neh’sa cried out breathlessly, the sound torn from her by fear. And then the alien face was gone as the slinker yanked back from the burning brand with a shriek.

But it only disappeared for a moment, just long enough for the heavy branding iron to sag in Neh’sa’s grip. Then, suddenly, it reappeared, the knife-like teeth going straight for her throat as it pushed her over backwards.

Somehow, though she was flat on her back, Neh’sa managed to keep her grip on the branding iron. She shoved it, one-handed, between the gnashing teeth, wedging it as far back in the night-slinker’s gaping maw as she could.

It screeched at her, its dagger-like teeth grinding against the metal. Then it yanked the hot iron from her hand and slung it away with a jerk of its bulbous white head.

The branding iron clanged on the marble and came to a stop in the corner of the fresher, glowing like an abandoned star. Neh’sa stretched out her fingers, reaching for it desperately, but the brand was far beyond her reach.

The night-slinker pinned her shoulders to the ground with its claws and hissed in triumph. Despite its bony appearance, it was horribly strong and heavy—there was no getting away from it. As she stared up into its nightmarish face, Neh’sa could have sworn it was grinning.

“No…no,” she heard herself whisper in dismay. She was weaponless now—completely unprotected. Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest for a long moment, as though it was afraid to keep pumping. A cold sweat had broken out all over her body and she felt completely numb.

Bet that numbness won’t last for long, a sarcastic little voice in the back of her head whispered nastily. I bet it will wear right off the minute that thing sinks its teeth into you.

As though to prove her point, the night-slinker struck again—its ghastly mouth stretched wide to reveal the razor-sharp teeth and a long black tongue which drooled weird, blue saliva.

Neh’sa closed her eyes, unable to watch her death coming at her, not wanting to see the moment it ripped off her head.

Please, Goddess, she prayed fervently. Please, just let it be fast…

But though she felt the heat of the creature’s gaping mouth and smelled the fetid, rotten-meat reek of its hot breath blowing in her face, the teeth didn’t touch her. Neh’sa heard them click together angrily, but they closed over empty air.

What in the Goddess’s name was going on? Was the monster teasing her?

Slowly, Neh’sa opened her eyes and saw that two strong, long-fingered hands were wrapped around the skinny white throat. Thorn was behind the night-slinker, looming over its shoulder, with a look of fierce concentration on his face. The sparks in his blue and green eyes had grown to flames—the fire dancing higher than Neh’sa had ever seen it before.

“Neh’sa” he growled when he saw her looking at him. “Try to…roll out from under when I…pull it back. Hurry—it’s fucking strong.”

The paralysis which had somehow gripped her limbs suddenly eased. When the big Kindred gave a mighty tug, every muscle in his body straining with the effort to lift the creature off her, Neh’sa rolled away, her dress slithering on the cold marble floor as she scrambled to get free of the night-slinker.

It hissed and writhed crazily in Thorn’s grip, slithering like a snake, snapping and clawing wildly to get free. Somehow it managed to twist around so it was facing him but the big Kindred refused to loosen his grip. Grimly, he held on despite the way its razor-sharp talons raked his broad chest, leaving bloody gashes in his smooth, tan skin.

“No, you fucker,” Neh-sa heard him growl. “You’re not going anywhere. You don’t get a second chance to hurt my female.”

The night-slinker hissed and writhed, its long talons finding his face and leaving ugly, bloody scratches down one high cheekbone.

“Gods damn it!” Thorn snarled. “Son of a bitch!”

Suddenly, something strange happened to his eyes. The flames which she’d seen so often dancing in his mismatched irises seemed to spread outward, licking down his cheeks to the sides of his corded throat and then to his broad shoulders. Neh’sa watched in disbelief as tongues of fire stroked down his muscular arms and forearms, encircled his wrists and suddenly burst from the tips of his fingers.

“Oh my Goddess,” she breathed, scooting back against the wall, her own eyes wide. What was happening? How was he suddenly on fire? Was it some kind of spontaneous combustion? But he didn’t seem to be in pain, at least, not from the fire.

From the face and shoulders down, Thorn’s big, muscular body was wreathed in flames. But though the fire licked all over him, bathing the dim fresher in a savage, flickering light, they didn’t consume him—didn’t even hurt him as far as Neh’sa could see. It was like being on fire was his natural state or fire was his natural element.

The same couldn’t be said for the night-slinker. Scorch marks were appearing on its white hide like black fingerprints. It began to shriek—a high, unearthly, piercing sound that made Neh’sa clap her hands over her ears, fearful that it might burst her eardrums.

Still Thorn held it and wouldn’t let go.

“Die, you fucker,” she heard him growling in a deep, beast-like voice. “Die for daring to threaten my female. She’s mine, damn you! Mine!”

The last word ended in a roar and the fire licking from his big hands began to engulf the night-slinker’s head. It screamed and thrashed harder as its white hide turned black and shriveled up, its long, clawed feet kicking wildly, trying to disembowel its captor.

Somehow Thorn managed to avoid the kicking legs—he kept squeezing and burning until, as Neh’sa watched wide-eyed with horror, his strong hands crushed right through the creature’s wind-pipe and the intense heat of the flames severed its neck in a gout of black blood and ashes.

The night-slinker’s still burning head rolled across the fresher floor to come to a rest in the stall it had originally been hiding in while its long, bony body slumped to the floor, still twitching and spouting the foul, midnight-colored ichor it used for blood.

“Goddess,” Neh’sa breathed, her heart pounding. “Oh my Goddess.”

Thorn was kneeling on the pink marble floor, his eyes still burning, his arms wreathed in flames. He looked at her beseechingly and Neh’sa felt a great wave of painful terror and self-loathing rush through him.

“Neh-sa,” he whispered hoarsely. “Mistress, help me—I can’t turn it off. Can’t quench it on my own.”

* * * * *

It was the first flame-up he’d had in years and it was a bad one. Thorn could feel the fire starting to spread. If it engulfed his entire body it would have no place else to go but the building around him.

She’ll die, he thought desperately, staring at Neh’sa who was staring back at him with wide, horrified eyes. She’ll die because I tried to save her, to protect her. Just like before…

The memories of his past, which he had so often blocked and suppressed, began to flow like lava, seeping through the cracks in his conscious mind, making him feel sick and helpless to stop the fire, giving the flames that lived inside him the upper hand in his struggle to control them.

“A release,” he told Neh’sa desperately. “I need a release. It’s too much—I can feel it spreading…building up. If I can’t fucking control it, the fire is going to explode like a bomb!”

“A release?” She stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment. “Thorn I can’t…I don’t…don’t even have any equipment with me here. The silver wand I used last time is at home. I—”

“Fuck the wand,” he growled, hearing the desperation in his own voice and not liking it a bit. “It’s not pleasure I need now—it’s pain. I need something to focus me—something to help me regain control. Please, Neh-sa!” He stared at her with his burning eyes. “I’m going to burn this fucking club down around us if I can’t reign in the fire. I don’t…don’t want to do that. Don’t want to hurt you.”

Her eyes grew wide with understanding.

“This is what you were afraid of when I asked you to lose control,” she whispered. “This is what you feared would happen the last time when I used the wand on you.”

“Yes,” he ground out. Gods but the fire was strong! And so hungry. He hadn’t let it out for years—for over a decade. And now it was escaping the net he’d built around it, seeping out, getting away, hungry to consume everyone—to consume her.

Just like it did last time…no! Thorn tried to push the toxic memory away but it wouldn’t go. Every moment he felt his control slipping more…

“I’ll help you if I can.” Neh’sa’s voice cut through his anguish. “But I don’t know how.”

“The whip…the fire whip.” It was the only implement he could think of that was painful enough to do the job of re-caging the fire. “Flame…helps control… flame,” he ground out as Neh’sa started to shake her head. “Get the whip and use it on me—use it on my back.”

“I can’t do that!” she protested. “Your back…your limits—”

“Fuck limits,” Thorn growled hoarsely. “You think the fire inside me recognizes any limits? It’ll fucking burn this club and everyone in it to ash if it gets the chance. Please, Neh-sa—I can’t hold on much longer!”

By now he wasn’t even sure he could wait for the time it took her to run get the fire whip. The flames were spreading down the sides of his body, trying to take over.

Suddenly, his wildly searching eyes fell on the branding iron, lying abandoned in the corner of the fresher. It was still cherry-red with heat. Just looking at it made the fire inside him recoil…which was how Thorn knew he had found his answer.

“The iron,” he said hoarsely, pointing one flaming finger at it. “Neh’sa, there’s no time for the whip—use the branding iron instead. Hurry!”

Her eyes followed his and slowly—much too slowly for Thorn’s taste—she walked over and picked it up. She stared at the glowing brand at the end, a look of distaste coming over her lovely face.

“Thorn, I can’t—”

“Do it!” he roared at her. “Do it before the fire kills you! Before it kills you the way it killed her!”

A look of understanding and horror, sorrow and pain, passed over Neh’sa’s lovely features. Then her expression hardened into a determined stare and she stepped forward, the iron held in one hand. She spoke one word.

“Where?”

“Here.” Thorn turned from her, baring his back where he could feel the flames licking, trying to take over. But though they were spreading down his sides, and lapping around the back of his neck, there was still a cool spot between his shoulder blades—the scarred place where the fire whip had fallen during torture.

“I don’t want to do this,” he heard Neh’sa say, her words squeezed tight with tears.

And then the searing pain of the hot iron branding his back drove everything else out of his head. Thorn let out an agonized roar as the fire abruptly went out, fleeing back inside him as the burning catharsis of the brand forced it to retreat.

Gods, he thought, feeling his stomach fist into a knot as cold as the fire had been hot. Now she knows what I really am—what I’m capable of. Now she’ll hate me.

* * * * *

Thorn collapsed on the floor, panting and spent. The supernatural flames that had been threatening to take over his entire body had gone out as suddenly as they had ignited.

He was right, Neh’sa thought with a distracted kind of horror. He did need a kind of release in order to control them.

But it was a release she would have denied him if she could have—not because she didn’t want him to find relief but because she’d felt the wave of pure agony that went through him when she placed the hot brand.

She pulled the glowing metal away from his body, noticing with a kind of sick horror how her crest was now stamped into the scarred skin of his back. Those scars which had started to fade and loosen with her nightly application of salve were nothing compared to the angry, red, raised lines of ownership which marred his flesh now.

Goddess, what have I done? she thought, feeling ill. What have I done?

But she’d had to do it—right? He’d said the fire would spread, that the whole club would burn. And he’d been right—if it had spread to the dance floor with the flammable spiked dream-gas…

“What have you done? My night-slinker! My body-slave!”

Lady Wraith’neck’s piercing shriek jerked Neh’sa out of the dreamy horror she’d somehow fallen into. She looked up to see the other Mistress, along with several other attendees of the banquet, staring at the carnage left on the fresher floor.

“I…he…” She motioned helplessly with the still hot branding iron at the body of the night-slinker which lay twitching in a pool of black blood.

“Your fucking “body-slave” attacked my Mistress,” Thorn growled, raising his head and Neh’sa could see the bright sparks in his eyes beginning to dance threateningly again. “I barely got here in time to save her.”

“Liar! How dare you lie to me, slave!” Lady Wraith’neck exclaimed, turning red in the face. She glared at Neh’sa. “I can see what really happened here—you and your savage beast of a body-slave came in here for some pain-play and my poor Slinker got in the way. So you had your Kindred cut off his head just for fun—just for the sadistic pleasure of killing him!”

“No!” Neh’sa exclaimed, feeling sick. “No, I would never—”

“Then why is the branding iron in your hand and your brand burned into your slave’s back?” Lady Wraith’neck demanded. A slow, cruel smile curved her thin lips. “You claim to be so sweet and kind and tell everyone that pain collars and branding irons are wrong but look at you now, Neh’sanna—your secret perversion is finally exposed!”

“No!” Neh’sa gasped again. The branding iron fell from her nerveless fingers to clang on the fresher floor and she backed away from it, the way she would have backed away from a venomous animal. “I swear, I wouldn’t—”

“Except you did!” There was a vicious kind of triumph in Lady Wraith’neck’s yellowish eyes. “I never thought you’d use that branding iron when I gave it to you, Neh’sanna—not with your pious, goody-goody, saintly ways but it looks like you’re just like the rest of us. You couldn’t wait to mark that big brute as your own, could you?”

“It’s not like that,” Neh’sa protested. “I wouldn’t—”

“She didn’t brand me because she wanted to—I begged her to do it.” Thorn’s deep voice cut through the babble of raised female voices as more and more Mistresses from the banquet crowded into the fresher to see the awful scene. He rose from his crouched position on the floor and faced the crowd fearlessly.

“You what?” Lady Wraith’neck narrowed her eyes. “You lie! No slave asks to be branded. They hate and fear it.” She smirked. “That’s half the fun of it.”

“I’m not lying.” Thorn glared at her, staring her straight in the eyes as a slave was never supposed to do. “I wanted to be marked by my Mistress—to be owned by her completely. Because—”

He stopped abruptly and Neh’sa saw his big hands, so lately wreathed in flames, clenching and unclenching at his side.

“Because…?” Lady Wraith’neck prompted. “Do go on, slave. You’re weaving such an entertaining tale—you must let us hear the end of it. Why would you possibly ask your Mistress to brand you?”

“Because then I knew she couldn’t sell me,” Thorn burst out. “I knew no other Mistress would want me once Neh’sa’s permanent brand was on me. And I…” He cleared his throat. “I would rather die than be parted from her. The pain of the brand was a small price to pay to be certain I would be hers forever.” He walked over to Neh’sa and dropped to his knees before her. “I’m yours, Mistress,” he murmured, bowing his head. “Yours forever now.”

“Oh Thorn…” Neh’sa felt tears stinging her eyes, though she knew he must be putting on an act for Lady Wraith’neck’s benefit.

He looked up at her and for a moment, her certainty that he was acting was shaken. The expression in his mismatched eyes was so earnest, so heartbreakingly real.

“Mistress,” he whispered. “Neh’sa…I don’t deserve to be owned by you but still…I’m yours. Will you have me?”

Neh’sa opened her mouth, not certain what would come out. But just then, a new voice rose above the murmuring of the crowd.

“What’s this? What’s all this commotion?” Suddenly Lady Thrust’much was pushing her way into the crowded fresher. For an older female, she certainly was vigorous, Neh’sa thought wryly.

The Grande Dame of the Council narrowed her faded blue eyes as she took in the carnage on the pink marble floor, now stained red and black with blood from both body-slaves.

“What happened here?” she demanded. “What in the Goddess’s name went on?”

A rush of competing voices rose to try and explain but Lady Wraith’neck’s was the loudest.

“She had her body-slave kill mine! My poor Slinker who I had owned for just a few days. And Lady Thrust’much, this is the second such incident to happen in barely a solar week! This same body-slave also maimed my Clopsian at one of those ridiculous Devotion ceremonies Neh’sanna is always holding at her domicile.”

“Untrue!” Neh’sa protested, raising her voice. “Both times in question Lady Wraith’neck lost control of her body-slaves and they attacked me. Look at that creature—” She pointed at the corpse of the night-slinker. “She brought it in here in restraints because it was so obviously dangerous. Where are the restraints now? Somehow it got free and came stalking me!”

“Lies!” Lady Wraith’neck bugled. “She lies with every word she speaks! Lady Thrust’much, I demand a private hearing on this matter. Neh’sanna owes me hundreds of thousands of credits for the property damage she has cost me this past week!”

“I never—” Neh’sa began but Lady Thrust’much’s voice cut her off.

“Enough, the two of you!” She glared back and forth between Neh’sa and Lady Wraith’neck. “I want you both at my domicile tomorrow at midday—don’t be late. We’ll settle this once and for all. Until then, say and do nothing to each other. I will decide this matter.”

Without waiting to hear their replies, she swept grandly from the room and, at one imperious gesture of her hand, most of the other Mistresses followed.

Soon only Neh’sa, Thorn, and Lady Wraith’neck were left in the blood-smeared fresher.

“Well, well…I suppose we’ll see what happens tomorrow.” Lady Wraith’neck was smirking as though she’d already won the conflict.

It occurred to Neh’sa that she didn’t look nearly so outraged and offended now that her audience was gone. In fact, she had a smug, complacent look on her face. Like a feline that had gotten the laska cream.

“I suppose we will,” she said grimly. Gods, so much had happened she felt completely worn out! Looking at Thorn, she realized she needed to get him home and take care of him. There were long, bloody scratches down his broad chest, both thighs, and his high right cheekbone.

Not to mention that ugly brand on his back, whispered a nasty little voice in her head. The one you gave him.

Neh’sa didn’t want to think about that, even though she could feel his pain—the sharp, stinging ache of a deep burn that won’t be soothed.

In addition to treating his injuries, she also needed to get some answers. Things had happened in the fresher tonight that she had no reasonable explanation for. Clearly there was more to her big Kindred than met the eye. She needed to know what he was hiding.

“Come, Thorn,” she said tiredly. “We must go home.”

“Yes, go home, Neh’sanna,” Lady Wraith’ neck sneered. “Enjoy the company of that brute of a body-slave of yours. We all know what you’re going to do with him once you get him alone.”

“I’m going to heal the wounds your creature put on him while he was saving my life,” Neh’sa snapped. “Now get out of my way.”

She pushed past the other Mistress with Thorn behind her, glaring at Lady Wraith’neck, a low growl rising in his throat though he said nothing.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Lady Wraith’neck called after her. “Have him as many times as he can rise for you tonight because it’s going to be your last.”

Her words troubled Neh’sa, but she refused to rise to the bait.

“Come, Thorn,” she murmured, ignoring the other Mistress. “Let’s go home.”

Chapter Twenty-one

“All right, Thorn—it’s time we talked.”

Those were the words Thorn had been dreading but he couldn’t say he was surprised to hear them. Neh’sa had seen things tonight—things which demanded an explanation.

The question was, exactly how much should he tell her?

I can’t tell her about my mission, he decided firmly. That secret is not mine to tell. But there are other things she must know.

Things he had kept buried and hidden even from himself for years. He felt them, floating to the surface of his mind like the corpses of murder victims that refused to stay dead.

“In fact, I think it’s past time you offered me some answers,” Neh’sa said sternly, interrupting his morbid thoughts as she sponged blood off the long, ragged claw marks on his cheek and chest and began to heal him with her power.

She had put him straight into the bath as soon as they got home, which surprised Thorn—he would have thought she’d be afraid to touch him after what she had seen. But his Mistress was courageous as always.

It’s one reason you love her—her unfailing courage, whispered a little voice in his head. Thorn pushed it away. He couldn’t love Neh’sa, no matter how brilliant or brave or beautiful she was. His mission didn’t allow for love—only for duty.

So then why did his heart ache when he looked at her? Why had the possessive fire burst forth and almost consumed him and everything around him when he saw her threatened?

“You told me you were part Kindred and part Enfuego.” Neh’sa’s voice was sharp. “Did you lie?”

“No,” Thorn said, shifting in the bathwater. Gods, he ached everywhere and the brand on his back burned like fire. Which was no more than he deserved.

“Thorn—”

“But I didn’t tell you the whole truth either,” he continued. “Enfuego is what we call ourselves. But what the rest of the galaxy calls us is…” He looked up at her. “Neh’sa, I’m half Pyro.”

“Pyro!” She half recoiled from him, her eyes going wide in shock. “But those…those are the people who live in the hearts of stars. How can you even be here?”

“That’s a myth, actually,” Thorn said mildly. “We can fly into the heart of a star and survive—or so it’s said. I’ve never tried it myself—though I’ve been tempted a few times,” he added darkly.

“But how is it even possible for you to be alive? I mean, how could a Pyro mate with another species of humanoid like the Kindred?” Neh’sa demanded.

“It’s not often done,” Thorn admitted. “But it does happen on occasion. It’s easier when it’s a Pyro female with the male of a different species, as happened with my parents. My mother was a Pyro and my father was a Kindred explorer who came to our planet. He was a Blood Kindred but his father’s father had been Pyro. The Kindred are genetic traders—they’re always interested in looking for new trade partners,” he added, seeing Neh’sa’s look. “Sometimes they’re willing to overlook obvious flaws to be with someone they love.”

“Obvious flaws like bursting into flame in public?” she remarked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, like that.” Thorn looked down at his hands. “Anyway, my mother was a genetics specialist whose father’s father had been a Beast Kindred. My parents had a lot in common because of their shared ancestry and heritage. She helped him find out more about his Pyro relations and, well…” He shrugged. “They fell in love.”

“And had you,” Neh’sa said softly.

“And had me,” Thorn said grimly. “Though they didn’t really want me. My mother cried when she found out I was a son instead of a daughter.”

“What?” Neh’sa frowned. “Why?”

“Because a half-breed Pyro has a much more difficult time controlling the fire that lives inside us,” Thorn explained heavily. “For some, it’s nearly impossible—such children are often locked away for their safety and the safety of others.”

Neh’sa shook her head. “I don’t understand. If all Pyros have a, uh, fire inside them—”

“All male Pyros do,” Thorn corrected her. “Female Pyros don’t have the fire. And until they bond with a male Pyro, they’re vulnerable to it.” He shook his head. “My mother cried when she found out I was a male because she knew she’d have to give me up.”

“Did they lock you away?” Neh’sa asked softly, stroking the long shallow cuts on his thighs where the night-slinker’s hind claws had raked him.

Thorn could feel the warming heat of her healing power and see the pink glow of light that came from her palms as she healed him, just as he had when she healed his chest and cheek. It felt so good he wanted to push her away—he didn’t deserve to feel good right now or ever again.

“No—but maybe they should have locked me up,” he said grimly, holding still under her touch with an effort. “The authorities wanted to, in fact. But my mother’s father swore he could teach me to control the fire. So I went to live with him and my mother’s mother.”

“That must have been difficult.” Gently, she trickled water over the brand on his back, squeezing it from the synthi-sponge over the burning area.

Thorn hissed through his teeth but didn’t flinch. He deserved this pain like all the rest. He was glad she didn’t try to heal him there.

“Some,” he said when she was finished. “My parents came to visit me often. I burned my mother by accident so many times as a child…” He sighed. “It used to make both of us cry. I remember it well—the ache of causing pain to someone you love so much you’d rather die than hurt them. But she never stopped coming and finally, by the time I was in my teen years, my father’s father had succeeded in teaching me control.” He shook his head. “It didn’t come easily to me, you know. Full blooded Pyros have a kind of wall inside them—a wall they can throw up around the fire and cut it off at any moment. But I don’t have that.“

“What do you have?” Neh’sa sounded interested.

Thorn raked a wet hand through his hair, making it stand up in spikes.

“The best way I can describe it is as a kind of net—a net I keep around myself at all times. Of course,” he said dryly, “A net isn’t nearly as good as a wall, especially when you’re trying to keep something from leaking out.”

“But it did leak out, didn’t it?” Neh’sa asked softly. “Not just tonight—at another time—in your past.”

Thorn frowned. “How did you know that?”

“Besides the pain and guilt I feel coming from you? You told me yourself tonight. You said, ‘Do it before the fire kills you! Before it kills you the way it killed her!’ You shouted it when you were begging me to brand you,” she reminded him.

“Gods…” Thorn put his face in his hands. “I guess I did, didn’t I?”

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Neh’sa asked gently.

“Tell you about it? Tell you the worst, most painful and fatal failure in my life?” Thorn demanded. “Hell no!” He sighed and looked at her. “But I will. You should know what I am…should know what you’ve taken into your house.”

“Thorn, if you’d rather not—”

“I was eighteen cycles old and full of myself,” he interrupted. “I hadn’t had what we call a ‘flame-up’ where you lose control of the fire, in almost three years. I thought I was invulnerable—that I could never lose control again. And so I allowed myself…” Gods this was hard to tell. “Allowed myself to love,” he said, forcing the words out. “Her name was Loreinalla but everyone just called her Lori. She was a year older than me—both our parents hoped she’d be a steadying influence on me.”

“And was she?” Neh’sa asked simply.

Thorn nodded. “Oh yes. Because of her, I learned a trade early. So that we could afford to be joined and bonded. I wanted no one else from the moment I saw her.” He sighed. “My father said that was the Kindred part of me. That when you find the right female you know it and you don’t want any other.”

“What happened?” Neh’sa asked. “I mean, did it happen when you…penetrated her?”

“No.” Thorn shook his head. “It’s the act of penetration—of bonding—that forms a protective barrier around the female—any female a Pyro mates with—and keeps her safe from his fire. In fact, if we had made love early, Lori might still be alive. But she wanted to wait—it’s very important to be a virgin on the joining night on my home planet—on Pyralis.”

“So then how…”

“We went on a trip together. A post-joining trip. The idea is for the male and female to spend time alone together after their joining day,” Thorn explained. “The people of Earth, the planet the Kindred Mothership is currently protecting, call it a ‘honeymoon.’”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Neh’sa murmured.

“It is—in most cases. In our case, we decided to go to the Chalian woods. It’s a huge forest on the northern continent of Pyralis and Lori’s parents owned a small domicile there—a cabin.” He raked a hand through his hair again. “It was going to be perfect—spending our first night as a mated couple together in such a quiet, beautiful remote place.”

“What happened?” Neh’sa asked.

“We got settled in the cabin and like a fool, I left her alone.” Thorn gave a bitter laugh. “I went to gather some shalla blossoms for her. They’re a common little pink flower that blooms everywhere on Pyralis and it’s tradition for a male to bring some to his new mate. I went to get her some but on my way back…I heard her screaming.”

He closed his eyes, remembering that awful sound—the piercing shrieks coming from the little greenish-brown cabin built of the same Chalian wood that grew in the forest. He remembered crushing the bouquet of blossoms tight in his fist and running as fast as he could, rushing to the door of the cabin where he saw…

“What did you see?” Neh’sa whispered and he heard an echo of the pain he felt himself in her soft voice.

“There were…three males. I don’t know if they lived there or they were just passing through but they must have seen Lori through one of the windows. Seen her and decided to take what they wanted.”

Thorn’s voice had gone harsh and he found the words harder and harder to get out. The memory of the three of them—those bastards—and Lori between them, screaming and struggling but pinned, unable to get away…

“Thorn…” Neh’sa’s voice was awed. “Your bathwater…it’s boiling.”

“Gods, damn it!” It was the fire inside him, wanting to get out again. Once you had a flame-up it was so much harder to control.

Thorn closed his eyes and concentrated, forcing himself to breathe deeply and get hold of the raging inferno that lived inside him. Slowly, the water in the deep soaking tub stopped bubbling and he was able to speak coldly and dispassionately again.

“They were hurting her—taking her against her will,” he made himself say. “When I saw that—saw what they were doing—the fire rose inside me. Strong emotions, especially when it comes to a cherished female, make it worse—harder to control.”

“So the fire came out—”

“And killed them all. Oh yes,” he added, seeing her puzzled look. “The fire of one male Pyro can kill another. It just depends on whose fire is strongest. Perhaps because of my hybrid heritage, I have a stronger fire than most.” He sighed deeply. “But I lost control of it. It spread to the cabin. I shouted for Lori to run, to get out but she…” He cleared his throat. “Instead of running out the door, she ran deeper into the cabin. She ran into the flames.”

“Oh, Thorn…”

“I know why she did it,” he went on, wanting to get it all out. “She wanted to die. After what those bastards had done to her. After I failed to save her.” He looked up at Neh’sa. “I went in after her—tried to get her back. But by the time I got her out of the fire it was too late. She was…was gone.”

“Thorn, that’s terrible.” The compassion in Neh’sa’s dark eyes was more than he could bear. He shook his head.

“I deserved to lose her. And I deserved everything that came after I left Pyralis too. The fire whip…the blood snails…every other torture I ever endured. I went through them to prove nothing could ever erode my self control again.”

“You went through them to punish yourself,” Neh’sa said softly.

“What if I did?” Thorn demanded. “I deserved the pain. I should have protected her. I should have saved her. Instead I let her burn…” He looked into Neh’sa’s eyes, willing her to understand. “I let her burn.”

“Thorn, darling…” She took his face in her small, cool hands. “What happened to you was terrible but you’ve paid enough. Let the past go. Let me heal you.” She let one small hand slide around to the burning brand between his shoulder blades but Thorn shrugged her off.

“No!” He rose dripping from the bath and snatched for one of the long bathing sheets by the side of the tub to wrap around his waist.

The past was bad enough but right now all he could think of was the way he would have to betray Neh’sa to gain the knowledge he had come to get. What a monster he was! He’d failed to protect and save the first female he ever loved and now he was going to deceive and ruin the second one.

Because, yes—he loved her—loved Neh’sa to distraction. Though it had been only a week she’d somehow gotten past his shields and found her way into his heart. A heart Thorn had once prided himself on being as hard and cold as stone. He’d thought nothing could touch him, nothing could crack his armor. But Neh’sa had done it—she’d forced him to submit not only his body but his soul.

She owned him and not just because she’d bought him at that damn auction.

And look what he was about to do to her. He was going to force her to let him in to the Library of All Knowledge and probably ruin her reputation as a trainer in the process. He was going to betray her and leave her—leave her to run into the flames, as surely as Lori had run into them those many years ago.

What a shit I am, he thought dismally. Gods, I should be killed but death is too good for me. It would put me out of my misery which I damn well don’t deserve.

“Thorn…” Neh’sa’s soft voice was strained and her dark eyes were full of the hurt he felt. “Goddess, your pain—you have so much pain both inside and out. Please…” She took a step towards him. “I could order you as a Mistress but I don’t want to. I want you to come to me as an equal and let me heal you—or at least try to anyway.”

“No.” Thorn evaded her reaching hand. “No, you don’t know everything about me, even now and I can’t…can’t tell you.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve any more healing and I don’t want it either. I would rather…” He cleared his throat. “Would rather go to my room and be alone.”

“You mean you’d rather go be in pain,” she said softly.

“Yes,” Thorn said shortly.

He didn’t even merit her company, he told himself. He shouldn’t have anything that could mitigate the misery he so richly deserved.

Neh’sa looked about to protest but then she simply nodded.

“Very well,” she said quietly. “Try to get some sleep. I’m afraid we’re going to have a hard day tomorrow with Lady Wraith’ neck and Grande Dame Thrust’much.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Thorn said dully. He bowed his head in a gesture of respect and then left her standing there, left with the brand burning on his back, glad of the pain it caused.

Glad because he deserved it and would never deserve any better.

* * * * *

Neh’sa watched him go with an ache in her heart. Goddess, the agony inside the big Kindred was almost too much to bear even for her and she was only feeling it second hand!

How could he keep such an awful secret bottled up for so many years? Especially when he blamed himself completely for the terrible tragedy that had befallen his beloved.

She longed to take him in her arms, to soothe that awful ache she felt inside him. No wonder he willingly endured torture and pain—he was trying to atone for what he perceived to be the sins of his past.

He needs to be released of this pain—of this guilt, Neh’sa realized and knew it was true. The big Kindred needed badly to feel relieved of his internal torment, but how?

She had no answers.

There’s nothing I can do for him, she realized. Not now. He has to want to be forgiven and relieved of his burden. And right now he’s still clinging to it. Why?

“You don’t know everything about me,” he’d said. Had he done something else? What other guilt was he carrying?

Neh’sa didn’t know—could never know unless he trusted her enough to tell her.

Goddess, she wished he did. She couldn’t forget the way he’d flamed-up to save her. The words he’d shouted at the night-slinker—“You don’t get another chance to hurt my female! She’s mine!” And then later he’d knelt and said he was hers, even though he didn’t deserve to be.

Could it be that the big Kindred had developed some sort of…feelings for her?

And can it be that you feel for him too? whispered a little voice in her head. Can it be that you love him as you haven’t allowed yourself to love any male since Heroth died protecting you in that riot?

It was a foolish thought—a wrong thought.

And Neh’sa couldn’t shake it, no matter how hard she tried.

Chapter Twenty-two

“Now then. I’ve reviewed the facts of this case and I’m ready to hear your suggestions as to a resolution to this conflict,” Mistress Thrust’much declared.

This was typical for the Grand Dame of the Council. She would hear both sides of an argument and then ask for the plaintiffs’ thoughts and wishes before making a ruling.

But this time, for some reason, Neh’sa felt uneasy as she stood before Mistress Thrust’much, who was sitting in a high, straight-backed chair made of black wood and silvery-gray upholstery. Everything in the Grande Dame’s domicile was decorated in white, black, and gray, which gave her living area an austere kind of beauty.

Neh’sa felt uneasy because, during the entire hearing, the older Mistress hadn’t stopped once for clarification, even when Lady Wraith’neck was spouting the most obvious falsehoods and outright lies. She’d simply kept quiet and let her go on and on about how Thorn had ruined two of her best body-slaves and she was owed hundreds of thousands in compensation.

Lady Wraith’neck, on the other hand, had that smug, contented look on her face again as though she knew she had already won.

What’s going on? Neh’sa wondered uneasily. Does Lady Wraith’neck have something on Mistress Thrust’much? It seemed impossible to believe—the Grande Dame was believed by everyone to be completely incorruptible. But maybe…

“Lady Neh’sanna’s barbaric body-slave has cost me two perfectly good body-slaves of my own, worth almost a million credits,” Lady Wraith’neck began, cutting into Neh’sa’s train of thought. It was a preposterous amount and clearly untrue. Neh’sa couldn’t let it stand.

“Wait a minute—if you think I’m going to pay you a million credits when it was your body-slaves who threatened my life—” she began.

“I wasn’t done yet,” Lady Wraith’neck snapped. She turned back to Mistress Thrust’much, who was watching her with sharp eyes. “I was going to say that I know poor Lady Neh’sanna can’t afford to pay me so much since she pours all her monetary resources into that stupid Mercy clinic of hers and practically has to live from hand to mouth.”

“Enough insults, Malisha,” Mistress Thrust’much said sharply. “What is your suggestion to mitigate this problem?”

“I suggest that since she owes me two good quality slaves and can’t afford to pay me back, Lady Neh’sanna should give me one of hers.” Lady Wraith’neck’s small, yellowish eyes flashed malevolently. “Specifically, that brute of a Kindred who did the damage in the first place.”

“What? No!” Neh’sa exclaimed. At her back, she could hear Thorn growling and her heart was pounding. She was only just beginning to understand what she felt for the big Kindred—she couldn’t give him up now. Especially not to a sadist like Lady Wraith’neck!

“It’s only fair!” Lady Wraith’neck insisted. “In fact, it’s more than fair. She’s essentially getting two slaves for the price of one. And the one I’m taking off her hands isn’t even trained properly!”

“You’re not taking Thorn anywhere!” Neh’sa rounded on the other Mistress. “I’ll die before I let you get your claws on him!”

“Oh, you’ll die all right. Socially at least—if you don’t agree to my terms,” Lady Wraith’ neck snapped.

“Are you threatening my Mistress?” Thorn demanded, taking a step forward. “If you lay so much as one fucking hand on her—”

“See what I mean?” Lady Wraith neck appealed to Mistress Thrust’much. “He’s not even trained. In fact, it’s my belief he’s completely untrainable—he ought to be put down in the interest of public safety.”

“You can’t be serious!” Neh’sa stepped in front of her big Kindred protectively, as though she could shield his muscular bulk with her own, much smaller body. “Never!”

“Calm down, Neh’sanna.” Lady Wraith’neck gave her a condescending smirk. “I didn’t say I would put him down—I’ll just train him a little harder than you’ve been doing. A lot harder, actually.” She looked at Thorn appraisingly. “I think I have a pain collar that will fit him, even though he is such a large specimen.”

“You’re acting like your proposal has been accepted,” Neh’sa said, lifting her chin. “Which it has not. I won’t give Thorn to you no matter what you say!”

“Is that right?” The other Mistress’s eyes glittered maliciously like cheap jewels. “I didn’t want to do this but I think I have something here that might change your mind.”

With a flourish, she withdrew a small rectangular receiving device from the voluminous pink and purple cloak she was wearing.

“Watch this,” she commanded Neh’sa. “You too, if you please Mistress Thrust’much. I think we all need to see what Neh’sanna has been up to.”

The small screen flickered to life and a holographic image appeared above it. Neh’sa recognized herself, sitting in her private office at her domicile. Her stomach dropped in surprise and outrage.

“How dare you!” she exclaimed. “Have you been recording me in my own domicile? That violates privacy rulings!”

“Indeed it does, Malisha,” Mistress Thrust’much sounded grave.

“Which is the only reason I haven’t brought this evidence before the Yonnite Mistresses Council before this,” Lady Wraith’neck said smoothly. “But please continue watching, Mistress Thrust’much. I think you’ll see some much bigger laws than just the privacy rulings are being broken.” She pressed a button and the holo-recording resumed.

There was a knock on the office door and Neh’sa watched with a sinking heart as her friend, Lady Tandy, the Mistress she had matched Lo’im to, came in and sat down.

“Lady Neh’sanna,” she began, “I need to ask you for help of a very personal nature. Now that Lo’im and I are together I have some…questions.”

Neh’sa felt sick as she saw the entire conversation from the day of the Devotion Ceremony replayed. Lady Tandy asking her for help so that she could allow Lo’im to penetrate her and Neh’sa giving her the necessary medication to mask the source of her pregnancy if one should occur.

It played through to the end and she couldn’t think of a single thing to say in her own defense. What she had done—what she had been doing for years now—was highly illegal and also considered completely immoral on Yonnie Six. The Grande Dame of the Council was known to be especially strict about prosecuting such cases.

“There—do you see?” Lady Wraith’ neck shut off the device and returned it to her pocket triumphantly. “Do you see what Lady Neh’sanna has been engaged in, Grand Dame? She is aiding and abetting male penetration! She’s telling females to treat their body-slaves as equals—making a mockery of everything we stand for here on Yonnie Six!”

“Yes, I see,” Mistress Thrust’much gave Neh’sa a deeply disapproving and disappointed look. “My dear Lady Neh’sanna, what can you have been thinking?”

“I was thinking that people ought to do as they wish with their own bodies in the privacy of their domiciles,” Neh’sa said, her voice wavering only a little. “I spent my first ten years on Lylas, as you may know, where males and females are equals. I know Yonnites believe differently but I cannot see anything so very bad about males and females being equal in the bedroom, at least.”

“Males are the inferior sex!” Lady Wraith’neck exclaimed. “Fit only to serve. Everyone knows that!”

“Only on Yonnie Six,” Thorn growled, joining in the conversation. “Most everywhere else in the Galaxy—hell, the entire universe—people believe the sexes should be equal.”

“Look at that—he speaks to us as though he was our equal!” Lady Wraith’neck pointed a finger at Thorn. “The nerve! The unmitigated gall! Is this how you let him speak to you at home, Neh’sanna? In between bouts of allowing him to penetrate you?”

“Thorn has never penetrated me,” Neh’sa denied, feeling her cheeks get hot. Well, except for his tongue and his fingers. But those didn’t count, surely.

“I’m sorry to say I just don’t believe that.” Lady Wraith’neck’s voice had taken on a tone of false pity. “I’m afraid having this subversive body-slave has corrupted your mind, Neh’sanna. I think he ought to be taken away from you for your own good.”

“No!” Neh’sa exclaimed. Why did it always come to this—taking Thorn away? Why did Lady Wraith’neck want him so badly?

She wants him because she can tell you care for him, whispered a shrewd little voice in the back of her head. Because she can see you love him and she wants to hurt you in the worst way possible—by taking that love away.

“Ladies, ladies!” Mistress Thrust’much raised her voice to make herself heard. “Let me speak! No—not another word until I’m finished, Malisha,” she added, pointing at Lady Wraith’neck who had her mouth open to protest. “Let me hear you both say you’ll listen attentively.”

“Yes, Grande Dame,” Neh’sa murmured numbly.

“Yes, Grande Dame.” Lady Wraith’neck sounded impatient.

“Now,” Mistress Thrust’much continued when all was silent. “I must say, I’ve heard and seen some very shocking allegations today. I’m very, very saddened and disappointed in what I’ve learned. Of course,” she went on, frowning at both of them. “The recording we saw was taken in violation of privacy statutes so it cannot be admitted into any kind of public record. But I feel there must be some punishment involved. Therefore, despite the fact that I feel Lady Wraith’neck is actually in the wrong in her claims of damages, I must agree with her suggestion and give Lady Neh’sanna’s body-slave to her in compensation.”

“What? No!” Neh’sa gasped. “No, please Grande Dame! She’ll be cruel to him! She’ll—”

“I’ll go.” Thorn’s deep voice was so quiet it almost didn’t register with Neh’sa. But when it did, she felt like her heart had stopped beating in her chest. “What?” she asked, turning to face the big Kindred.

“I said, I’ll go with Lady Wraith’neck.” There was an unreadable expression on his face.

“Of course you’ll go, slave. You have no say in the matter,” Lady Thrust’much snarled.

“Yes, but I do have a say in how I’ll behave.” Thorn gave Lady Wraith’neck a predatory grin before looking at Mistress Thrust’much. “I’ll go with Mistress Wraith’neck here and I’ll be the perfect body-slave on the condition that she destroys that recording and neither it nor any other illegally obtained recordings of my Mistress are disseminated to the other Mistresses of Yonnite Six.”

“Thorn, no!” Neh’sa exclaimed. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Actually, he does. I have ruled.” Lady Thrust’much raised her chin, her faded blue eyes flashing. “The body-slave will go with Lady Wraith’neck and you, Neh’sanna, will cease all illegal activity at once.”

There was a finality in her words that told Neh’sa nothing would change the Grande Dame’s mind. Thorn was going to be given to Lady Wraith’neck, no matter what she said or did.

But she wasn’t prepared to just hand him over to be tortured and raped—there had to be something she could do to mitigate this awful development!

Suddenly, she knew what it was.

“All right,” she said, her voice shaking. “I…I’ll give Thorn over to Lady Wraith’neck. But when I do, she has to sign the same contract I have all prospective Mistresses sign when they buy a body-slave from me.” She glared at Lady Wraith’neck. “She has to promise never to use a pain collar or any other agony causing nerve conduction device and she has to swear not to abuse or mistreat him.”

“What?” Lady Wraith’neck exclaimed. “I’ll do no such thing! I treat my slaves however I deem appropriate! I won’t have anyone else dictating my behavior.”

“In this case, yes you will, Malisha,” Mistress Thrust’much said, weighing in on Neh’sa’s side, much to her surprise.

“But—” Lady Wraith’neck began to protest, her face purple with rage.

The Grande Dame held up a hand to stop her.

“Malisha, we all know you’re a bit—well more than a bit—of a sadist,” she said sternly. “And it’s clear Neh’sanna truly cares about this slave.”

“Of course she does—he’s her lover,” Lady Wraith’neck spat. “She probably lets him fuck her every night!”

“Please! No more foul language here!” Mistress Thrust’much pursed her lips in distaste. “No matter what perverted acts Mistress Neh’sanna has allowed this male to perform on her body, it doesn’t change the fact that she is handing over a much beloved and cherished slave. Though I believe she should be punished for her illegal actions, she deserves to know this slave is being well cared for and not unduly abused.” She leveled a glare at Lady Wraith’neck. “Therefore you will promise not to use nerve conduction agony devices such as pain collars on this slave for as long as Lady Neh’sanna lives.”

Lady Wraith’neck’s face was nearly puce with rage but she nodded stiffly.

“Very well.”

“Good. Then we’ll draw up the contract of transference and do it right now, at once.”

“What?” Neh’sa exclaimed. “Now? Won’t I even have a chance to…to…” She had been going to say ‘a chance to say goodbye,’ but she could tell by the looks on the other two Mistresses’ faces how that sounded.

They think I’m obsessed by Thorn—that I’m in love with him and I’m not thinking clearly, she realized.

They’re right, whispered a voice in her head. You’ve allowed yourself to become much too attached to him. This is probably a good thing—they’re taking him away before you can get in any deeper.

But if it was a good thing, why did her heart feel like it was being trampled on? Why did she have the same sinking, unreal feeling she’d had when she knelt over Heroth’s bloody, unmoving body and knew he was gone for good?

“I’ll give you a moment to prepare your body-slave for his transfer to a new Mistress,” the Grande Dame said at last, a look of pity on her face. “You may use my guest bedchamber.” She pointed to a pale gray sliding door enameled in black. “Please don’t be long.”

“Thank you, Grande Dame,” Neh’sa whispered. Numbly, she motioned for Thorn. “Come.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He followed her into the small bedchamber, which had a bed with a white spread. The pure white spread had black designs on it that looked like flying birds. At that moment, Neh’sa wished she could fly away herself—fly away from the mess her life had become and never come back.

“Thorn…” she began and then stopped. She had no idea what to say. How did one bid goodbye to a body-slave who had somehow become so much more? How could she tell him what he meant to her when she hardly knew herself?

“Thorn—” she started again but he cut her off.

“It’s better this way,” he said.

“What? How can you say that?” Neh’sa demanded. “She’ll beat you and…and…” She shook her head, unable to go on, unable to think of the unspeakable things—things which could have been pleasurable with the right Mistress—that the evil Lady Wraith’neck would do to him.

“It’s better this way,” Thorn repeated stoically.

“Why? Because you want to be tortured some more? You think giving yourself over to that evil bitch without complaint will help you expiate your past?” Neh’sa could feel herself losing her composure but she couldn’t seem to help it. “Thorn,” she said. “I can’t…can’t just let you—”

“Remember I told you that you don’t know everything about me?” he said quietly. “Well, you don’t. Believe me, Neh’sa—this is for the best.”

“I don’t…don’t see how.” She didn’t realize she was crying until he cupped her cheek and swiped away the tears with his thumb.

“Come here.” He pulled her towards him and Neh’sa found herself in his arms with her hot face pressed against the broad, muscular plane of his chest.

She couldn’t understand why she was doing this—why she was acting this way. She hadn’t allowed herself so much emotion since Heroth had been alive. But somehow she couldn’t seem to help it—she buried her face in his chest and sobbed.

“Neh’sa, don’t. Please don’t grieve over me.” He sounded truly distressed as he stroked her hair and shoulders, trying in vain to comfort her. “I’m not worth it. You’ll see that soon enough.”

She shook her head but couldn’t stop crying long enough to answer him. Goddess, what was wrong with her? Once again she was acting like anything but the proper Mistress.

Except I’m not his Mistress anymore and I never will be again!

The thought almost brought on a fresh storm of tears but somehow she remembered where she was and more importantly, who she was.

Grande Dame Thrust’much and the evil Lady Wraith’neck are both in the other room—no doubt listening to me carry on, she reminded herself. I am Lady Neh’sanna of Yonnie Six—I do not allow myself to become overly emotional.

Or not anymore than she already had, anyway. With an effort, she stopped crying and got hold of herself.

“Thorn,” she whispered, wiping her eyes with her fingers and looking up at him. “I’ll miss you. I….”

She stopped, surprised to see there were tears standing in his mismatched eyes. Suddenly she understood that he was as upset—as undone—by their parting as she was. Now that she had mastered her own pain a bit, she could feel his agony at the loss that racked them both.

“I’m going to miss you too, Mistress.” His voice was low and hoarse with the unshed tears. Slowly, he sank to his knees before her and put his arms around her waist. “I meant what I said before—I don’t deserve a female like you. But you own my heart forever, even if my body is somewhere else. Please don’t ever forget that.”

“Oh, Thorn…” She stroked his hair as he had stroked hers, giving comfort as she had taken it just moments before. What was it about the big Kindred that touched her so deeply? That hurt so much?

Just then someone started hammering on the door.

“Hurry up in there, Neh’sanna! You’d better not be letting that big brute fuck you one last time or Mistress Thrust’much will have to call and inform the authorities,” Lady Wraith’neck called.

Neh’sa ignored the other woman’s crude words and looked into Thorn’s troubled face. She didn’t know what else to say so she simply kissed him, bending down a little to take his mouth with hers.

At first he didn’t respond—as though he didn’t think he deserved to. Then, suddenly, he kissed her back so passionately Neh’sa felt her entire body light up with desire. He tasted like salt and tears and need.

Delicious, forbidden…and gone forever.

The hammering on the door resumed and finally drove them apart.

“Thorn,” she whispered, stroking his cheek.

“Don’t forget me. And forgive me if you can,” he murmured. Then he rose and went to open the door.

Lady Wraith’neck was standing there in the doorway, holding a signed parchment in one hand—the transferal of ownership document. When she saw Thorn, she practically gloated.

“Well, well—my new slave.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Thorn said heavily, eyes downcast. “What can I do for you?”

“I think a more appropriate question is what can I do to you?” Lady Wraith’neck purred throatily. “Oh my, I am so going to enjoy breaking you in, you big brute!” She looked at Neh’sa and held out a hand imperiously. “I’ll need the key to his collar, Neh’sanna. I have a new one he can wear.”

Suddenly something inside Neh’sa snapped. She strode over to the doorway, wedged herself between Thorn and Lady Wraith’neck and thrust her finger in the other female’s face.

“Listen to me, Malisha,” she snarled. “You may not know this but I am half Lylasian which means I can feel the emotions of others.”

“Ugh—why are you bringing up your half-blood status now?” Lady Wraith’neck wrinkled her nose. “What is your point?”

“My point is, I have a connection to Thorn. So I’ll know if you break the contract you signed and use a pain collar or anything else like that on him.” Neh’sa narrowed her eyes and glared at the other woman. “I’ll know and I’ll make you pay.”

For a moment Lady Wraith’neck looked incredulous. When she saw Neh’sa was serious, her expression became one of defiant anger.

“Oh? And how would you do that Neh’sanna? You have no friends in high places—not now that the Grande Dame knows what kind of illegal activity you’ve been up to.” She smirked.

“I don’t need friends in high places,” Neh’sa snapped. “I have other resources. Have you ever stopped to think, Malisha, how many downtrodden, starved, and mistreated males come through my Mercy clinic on any given night? And how grateful they are for even just a little bit of kindness—a bit of care their own Mistresses are too busy or too harsh to give them? I believe we’ve treated slaves belonging to you many times.”

Lady Wraith’ neck frowned.

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand. Are you threatening not to treat my slaves anymore? Because frankly, I couldn’t care less. Let them die—I can always buy more.”

“I know you don’t care about anyone but yourself but many others do. And the males who come through my clinic are appreciative—so appreciative, in fact, that if someone was to suggest they find a certain Mistress with an especially sadistic nature—one who has hurt several of their number over and over again, well they might just—”

“Stop!” Lady Wraith’neck was wide-eyed with shock. “How dare you? I can’t believe you’d threaten me!”

“I haven’t,” Neh’sa said coolly. “I’m just telling you what could happen if I feel Thorn’s pain and know a pain collar is responsible for it. I’ll be watching you.” She removed the key to Thorn’s collar, which she wore around her neck on a chain, and thrust it at the other Mistress. “This collar had better be replaced by one just as painless or I’ll know,” she said and swept from the room before the spluttering Lady Wraith’ neck could frame an answer.

She didn’t look back at Thorn although she wanted to so badly her stomach twisted in knots.

He’s gone, she told herself. Gone out of your life as surely as Heroth is. Forget him now, Neh’sa—all you can do is forget him.

But somehow her heart refused to listen.

Chapter Twenty-three

“I am pleased to announce that we have a new member of the Sacred Seven to help care for and protect the legacy of the Yonnite Library of All Knowledge.” Grand Dame Thrust’much’s voice rang out across the vast marble porch which encircled the massive building the Library was housed in. A crowd of Mistresses and their body-slaves filled the courtyard around the large building to overflowing. Apparently the investiture of a new member of the Sacred Seven was a prime social event.

Thorn watched the ceremony unfold from the back of the porch in stoic silence. His back was a mass of bruises and welts and the rest of him was pretty fucking sore as well. Lady Wraith’neck had had some fun with him the night before. Fun from her point of view anyway…

“Well, well. I’ve been wanting to get you alone from the first moment I saw you,” she purred the moment she got him back to her gaudy, overly decorated home. She didn’t bother with a formal living space Thorn noticed. Her entire domicile appeared to be dominated by dungeon equipment and accoutrements.

She brought him inside and took him straight to an agony cross where she chained him up.

“I may not be able to use a pain collar on you,” she hissed in his ear. “But there are so many more ways to have fun—don’t you think?”

Thorn didn’t answer—nor did he cry out despite the various implements she used on his back and the rest of his body. This was more like what he had been expecting when he’d agreed to take the mission to Yonnie Six. It was comforting, in a way. Being tortured was something he understood—something he could withstand.

Lady Wraith’neck’s touch didn’t cause him to react the way Neh’sa’s had. Through the entire session—which lasted hours—the fire within him didn’t even come close to the surface. She could do what she liked to his body but she couldn’t touch his heart or draw any kind of reaction from him—a fact which clearly irritated the sadistic Mistress.

After hours of using everything she could think of on him, she threw down the bloody cane she held with a petulant curse.

“This is ridiculous! How was Neh’sanna able to train you at all when you’re so clearly impervious to pain?”

“Neh’sa trains… with love.” Thorn spoke with difficulty. Enduring the physical pain had enabled him to take himself away, into a mindless place where no thought was possible. Bringing himself back from that place required an effort.

“Love?” Lady Wraith’neck scoffed. “What sort of nonsense is that?”

“I wouldn’t…expect you to understand,” Thorn still spoke haltingly. “You have nothing but…hatred and cruelty in you. Which is why….Neh’sa will always be the superior Mistress.”

“Silence!” Lady Wraith’neck snapped. “I won’t tolerate such talk, especially not from a slave!” She began to pace angrily back and forth. “What you need is a good jolt from a pain collar! Damn that Neh’sanna and her soft-hearted ways!” She glared at Thorn. “I don’t believe she really has a link to you. I ought to put a collar on you anyway and turn it up to maximum to find out.”

“Do as you please with me, Mistress,” Thorn growled stoically. “But I warn you—Neh’sa does feel my pain.”

He closed his eyes, trying not to remember the echo of his agony in her lovely dark eyes when he’d told her of his past. How she could treat him with such compassion after hearing how badly he had failed the only other female in his life he’d ever loved was beyond him.

“That’s part of what makes her such a good Mistress,” he added.

“Ridiculous!” Lady Wraith’neck raged again, but he noticed she didn’t make any move to put a pain collar on him. “I own a slave but I don’t really own him,” she went on to herself, still pacing. “I’ll never truly own the big brute until Neh’sanna is out of the way.”

This got Thorn’s attention.

“If you hurt her—if you so much as touch a hair on my Mistress’s head—” he began.

“I am your Mistress now, you big fool!” Lady Wraith’neck stormed. “But don’t worry,” she went on. “I won’t touch her. Not personally anyway.”

Her words troubled Thorn but he told himself that after the ceremony at the Library of All Knowledge it would be a moot point. As soon as she was invested as one of the Sacred Seven, he would be using Lady Wraith’neck’s print and retinal scan to help himself to the information on the Hive. He would transmit it instantly back to the Kindred Mothership and then he would leave Yonnie Six behind forever. And once he was gone, there would be no reason for Lady Wraith’neck to wish to harm Neh’sa. He hoped…

As he stood in the cloudy atmosphere dome which housed the Library of All Knowledge and watched the ceremony of investiture, he thought that the multiple bruises and lacerations on his back and body were a small price to pay for not having to betray Neh’sa in the awful way he had been dreading. He was so glad he wouldn’t have to force her to use her print and retinal scan to get him the information on the Hive.

Lady Wraith’neck, on the other hand, he had no problem using. Then, after he had transmitted the information, he would be on his way.

Looking out into the crowd, he saw a reptilian form standing on the fringes. Greed’lick—his ride home.

Catching the alien’s eye, he nodded once—All is going according to plan.

The huge lizard-male nodded back. I’ll be waiting.

There were some other males who looked like they didn’t belong in the Yonnite crowd as well. They didn’t have the downtrodden air of the males of Yonnie Six who were either owned and abused on a regular basis or were free but so poor and hopeless that they could scarcely hold their heads up.

No, these males—there were three of them in all—looked…different. Thorn frowned. What were they? Not Kindred but not far from it either. Havok maybe? The genetic cousins of the Kindred race, the Havok had branched off years ago and had no need to call females as their mates. In fact, their motto was, “We do not Bond.”

And these disreputable-looking bastards certainly didn’t seem the type to bond with any female—or to respect and revere them as the Kindred did either. The one who was standing a little ahead of the other two appeared to be the leader. He wore a black Cybernetic patch over one eye. Thorn wondered if it had special properties. Some such enhancements could show all spectrums of light as well as allowing the user to see in pitch blackness.

His contemplation of the three disreputable-looking males was interrupted when Mistress Thrust’much announced that it was time to go inside the Library of All Knowledge where only the Sacred Seven and their body-slaves were permitted and finished the investiture of Lady Wraith’neck.

This is my chance, Thorn thought. My only chance – I’d better not fuck it up.

He turned obediently when Lady Wraith’neck yanked on the long leather leash attached to his collar and followed her into the library. He could feel Neh’sa’s gaze on him and knew she must be cataloging his injuries.

He tried not to catch her eyes, so filled with pain and pity for him. It would only make things harder to think of what he had lost, of what might’ve been between them if only the circumstances have been different.

I must complete my mission, he told himself dully. That’s all that matters now.

And he had to wait for just the right timing to do that.

He knew, from hearing lady Wraith’neck speak to one of the ceremony planners that morning, exactly what would happen next. She would be brought to the scanning booth located in the middle of the library and her fingerprint and retinal scan would be recorded in the files of the Sacred Seven. From then on, all she had to do to access any information was simply go to a stack where the data was stored, press her finger to the receptacle, and look into the scanning portal. The information could then be transferred to any device she wished for her later perusal.

Or any device I wish, Thorn thought. He had every intention of feeding information straight to the transmitter he carried which was linked to the Kindred Mothership. The whole thing would take only a matter of moments—he just had to get Lady Wraith’neck alone to make it work and he thought he knew exactly how to accomplish that.

Pinned to her sleeve, the sadistic Mistress wore a priceless brooch, the centerpiece of which was a large natural Timbrian emerald set in Valenite. The proceeds of the brooch, if it were sold, could probably fund Neh’sa’s Mercy clinic for at least five standard years. It was a piece of jewelry even the obscenely rich Lady Wraith’neck would mind losing—a family heirloom passed down from mother to daughter for generations which proved her legitimate birthright as a Mistress on Yonnie Six. If it went missing, she would certainly search for it.

And Thorn fully intended for it to go missing.

“And now my good Lady Wraith’neck, you must press your finger to the glowing red receptacle and look into the portal at the same time.” Grande Dame Thrust’much indicated the glowing red pad and small round aperture which irised open when Lady Wraith’neck leaned towards it. She pressed her finger to the red pad and looked into the aperture and in a moment it turned green and there was a soft chiming sound.

“Very good, very good.” Grande Dame Thrust’much nodded approvingly. “Now you have the power to access all the many years of accumulated knowledge in our vast collection. Not many are granted such an opportunity. Use it wisely to enrich yourself with learning, so that you may pass it down to other Yonnite sisters when the time comes.”

Of course, Lady Wraith’neck had no intention of doing any such thing, as Thorn was well aware. She had only wanted the honor of being one of the Sacred Seven as a kind of feather in her cap – a status symbol she could wave in the faces of other Mistresses to make them jealous. She had no more interest in learning than she had in running a Mercy clinic, but now she could count herself as one of the highest of the high—a member of the true upper echelon of Yonnite society.

For now, at least.

Thorn wondered how her status might change after he forced her to help him get the information he needed. A Mistress who couldn’t control her body-slave wouldn’t be held in very high esteem. It made him glad all over again that it was Lady Wraith’neck he would be using to get the information he needed, not Neh’sa.

More than anything he just wanted to finish his mission and get away from this damn place. It was too painful, and every time he looked at Neh’sa, all he could think of was her hands on him, her soft voice in his ear, the tears in her eyes when she bid him goodbye…

Enough of that, he told himself angrily. You’re never going to see her again after you get this job done and it’s just as well. You’re no damn good for her – for any female. She’s better off without you, so just forget her.

As unobtrusively as he could, he got a little closer to his new Mistress’s side while she preened and talked loudly about how pleased she was to be one of the Sacred Seven.

“…an honor richly deserved though long in coming,” she was saying, while the other six members of the Sacred Seven looked vaguely nauseous. Thorn saw a few of them cast looks at Mistress Thrust’much. Doubtless they were wondering what the Grande Dame of the Council had been thinking when she chose Wraith’neck to be one of their group.

Thorn actually knew the reason for this—Lady Wraith’neck had bragged the night before about getting the Grande Dame hooked on a type of spiked dream-gas only she could supply. She was, in effect, Mistress Thrust’much’s dealer. Which in Thorn’s opinion, didn’t really leave the Grande Dame much room to make accusations as to the illegality of Neh’sa’s efforts to give out contraception and aid the evil act of male penetration.

But none of that mattered right now. The main thing was that all eyes were on either Lady Wraith’neck or Mistress Thrust’much—no one was watching what a lowly body-slave was doing. Thorn, of course, being the lowly body-slave in question.

Despite the collar and leash he wore, his hands were unbound and so he was able to reach up and gently unfasten the priceless brooch from his new Mistress’s sleeve. Concealing it in one hand, he backed slowly out of the small crowd gathered around the scanning booth, and then headed for the slave’s fresher, located further back in the data stacks.

Thorn was surprised that the Library of All Knowledge even had a male’s fresher but he supposed the fine Mistresses of Yonnie Six couldn’t have their slaves pissing in the bushes around the building. It wouldn’t look nice.

Luckily, though the building was huge, the fresher was located very near the data stack he needed to access. Thorn dropped the brooch there, out of sight, half-hidden beneath the stack, and went back to join the main party which were now taking a tour of the Library.

“There you are!” Lady Wraith’neck hissed at him. “How dare you wander off? I let go of your leash for one minute—”

“Sorry, Mistress. Had to use the fresher.” Thorn shrugged.

“Well don’t leave again! Or I’ll be certain you’re sorry later,” she snapped.

“Lady Wraith’neck, did you hear what I said?” Grande Dame Thrust’much was glaring at her. “This data stack contains all we know about the various stars in our galaxy, their types, classifications, intensities, and the number of planets they may or may not have orbiting around them. Are you even listening?”

“Of course, Grande Dame,” Lady Wraith’neck muttered rebelliously. “Forgive me for my momentary lapse—I had to chastise my slave.”

“Chastise him on your own time. We need to move this tour along so we can get to the reception being held in the adjoining atmosphere dome,” Mistress Thrust-much snapped.

Lady Wraith’neck nodded meekly enough but the look she shot Thorn let him know she had plans for him later.

Well, that was all right—he had plans for her too.

“Excuse me, Grande Dame, but I’m afraid I need to leave the tour a bit early.”

Thorn’s head jerked up because it was Neh’sa’s soft voice speaking. Though he had been avoiding meeting her eyes, he couldn’t help it now. She was looking right at him, though she was speaking to Mistress Thrust’much. Her large, dark eyes were troubled and her small hands were curled into fists at her sides.

She’s afraid for me—worried for me, Thorn realized. She’s wondering what awful things Lady Wraith’neck has planned to do to me next. He wished he could reassure her—let her know everything was going to be all right. But there was nothing he could do or say, especially in the present company. So he simply gave her a little shrug and looked away.

“What? Why would you need to leave the tour?” Mistress Thrust’much demanded.

“I’m afraid I am…unwell,” Neh’sa said. “Forgive me but I must beg to be excused.”

“Well, if you must…” The Grande Dame didn’t look very happy about it but Neh’sa really did look pale and unwell. Thorn wondered if she’d gotten any sleep at all the night before. Probably not.

“Thank you.” Neh’sa inclined her head and turned to go. She was the only Mistress without a body-slave in attendance, so she walked out of the huge, echoing marble Library alone.

Thorn watched her go, wondering if this would be his last sight of her. Her brand between his shoulder blades burned fiercely. It was the only part of him Lady Wraith’neck hadn’t beaten, whipped, or in some way abused the night before—but only because she had plans to obscure Neh’sa’s brand with her own once it had healed a bit and the skin could take new branding.

That was never going to happen, of course—he would be out of here before the next solar hour had passed. But he never intended to remove Neh’sa’s brand, even after he was gone and the mission was over.

Why bother trying to remove her brand from his skin when it was stamped permanently into his heart?

For a moment, as he watched her pass silently out the broad double doors of the Library, he had a bad feeling. An intuition that something wasn’t right…

But then Lady Wraith’neck gave his leash an especially vicious jerk and he was forced to follow her deeper into the data stacks as Mistress Thrust’much continued the tour.

It wasn’t until the tour had concluded and the Mistresses were preparing to leave for the reception that Lady Wraith’neck finally noticed her priceless brooch was missing.

“Oh!’ she gasped, looking down at her sleeve. “Where is it? Where is my Timbrian emerald brooch? It’s the birthright of my family!”

“Don’t know, Mistress,” Thorn drawled, looking unconcerned. “I think you had it when you came in.” He was relieved she’d finally noticed—he’d been afraid he would somehow have to bring it up himself, which would have looked fucking suspicious.

“Of course I had it when we entered the Library! I was showing it to Lady Rest’well!” she stormed. “I must find it! Help me look for it at once!”

If it had been any of the other Mistresses belonging to the Sacred Seven who had lost some valuable trinket, especially one so vital to their standing in Yonnite Society, Thorn was certain all the rest of the group would have offered to stay and help look for it. However, Lady Wraith’neck was not well liked. Her coarseness, cruelty, and abrasive personality were plainly disgusting to her colleagues. Not even Grande Dame Thrust’much, who had appointed her to the position, wanted to stay and help her.

“Well, Malisha,” she said, shrugging in apparent unconcern. “Your print and scan are keyed into the system. You can stay and hunt for your lost brooch as long as you like—just be certain to lock up the Library of All Knowledge when you leave. We’ll see you at the reception.”

“But it will take ages to search all by myself!” Lady Wraith’neck pouted. “This place is huge.”

“I’m sorry, Malisha—I would leave you one of my body-slaves but they’re both needed during the reception,” Grande Dame Thrust’much said, frowning. “I’m afraid you’re on your own.”

She turned without another word and the other Mistresses turned with her. Leaving a fuming Lady Wraith’neck behind with only Thorn for company, they exited the Library.

“Hmm,” Thorn remarked as the vast double doors clicked shut behind them, “Seems like they might not like you very much, Mistress.”

“Shut up!” Lady Wraith’neck tugged hard on his leash again. “Just help me find the brooch!”

Thorn searched diligently, like an obedient body-slave, taking his time to make certain the crowd around the Library had time to clear off to the reception in the next atmosphere dome. His Mistress continued to fume in silence and vent her feelings by yanking as hard as she could on his leash. Thorn endured this treatment stoically, biding his time and waiting for the right moment.

At last he was certain they were completely alone—the noise of the crowd outside had died to complete silence and there was no sound but the hush of the air purifiers which kept the data stacks clean and Lady Wraith’neck’s own angry breathing.

“Mistress,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Do you see that? There’s something bright over there.” He pointed towards the data stack containing the Hive’s information.

“What? Where?” She jerked her head up like a hunting canine, intent on finding its prey. “Where is it, you idiot? Show me!”

“Here.” Thorn led the way, though she kept a tight grip on his leash until they were standing in front of the tall, thin data tower which rose to the vaulted roof. “I believe it’s right under that stack.” He pointed to the place he had hidden the brooch.

“Well get down there and get it then, slave!” She yanked down hard on the leash, trying to pull him down to floor level.

But this time Thorn held his ground.

“I wonder if you realize, Mistress,” he growled. “That the leash you’re yanking on isn’t attached to any kind of a pain collar.”

“Of course I know that,” she snapped. “That idiot Neh’sanna forced me to sign a contract saying I wouldn’t use one on you.”

“I think you’re missing the point.” Thorn leaned in close, pushing his face into hers. “Which is that you have no way to control me. No fucking way.”

“What are you…are you threatening me?” Lady Wraith’neck drew back, a look of outrage mingled with uncertainty on her long, bony face. Clearly she was so used to being in charge and doing anything she wanted to slaves who didn’t dare complain, she didn’t know how to handle this situation.

“Most certainly not, Mistress.” Thorn gave her his most intimidating grin. “There’s no need to threaten you because you’re going to do exactly as I say.”

“I will not!”

Lady Wraith’neck started to walk stiffly away from him—even now she didn’t seem to realize the danger she was in—but Thorn caught her by the back of her gown, spun her around and unclipped the leash from his collar. With quick, economical movements he tied her hands securely in front of her while she struggled and screamed. Then, for good measure, he lashed her to the long support spindle of the data tower.

“No—how dare you? Let me go at once or I’ll have you beaten! I’ll beat you myself, come to that!” she shouted angrily.

“Shut up,” he said harshly, giving her a quick shake so that her teeth clicked together sharply. “Just shut up and this will all be over before you know it.”

“All be over? You…you’re not going to penetrate me, are you?” Her yellowish eyes were wide and her mouth trembled.

Thorn felt his stomach do a slow forward roll. What a disgusting idea! In the first place, he was no rapist. And in the second, he couldn’t think of another person in the entire galaxy he would rather have sex with less that the evil Lady Wraith’neck. Still, if the idea kept her in line…

“How many male slaves have you penetrated against their will?” he demanded, shaking her again. “How many, Mistress?”

“I d-don’t kn-know,” she stammered. “None that didn’t deserve it. Males are the inferior species—they’re meant to serve and be used as we deem fit.”

“You know, you might not want to say that while you’re tied up in the power of one of those ‘inferior males’,” Thorn growled. “You’re the inferior one now, Malisha. What if I decided you were fit for nothing but penetration and torture, as you decided about me?”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Her yellow eyes narrowed but Thorn thought he saw fear far back in their depts.

“I might,” he said casually. “It depends on if you give me what I want.”

“If you think I’m going to let you ram your filthy shaft down my throat—”

Thorn barked a laugh. “It always comes back to sex with you, doesn’t it? And since you don’t know anything about love or tenderness, all sex equates with torture.” He shook his head. “I’m actually sorry for you, Malisha. But no—I don’t want my shaft anywhere near your mouth. Or any other part of you for that matter. What I do want,” he continued. “Is for you to help me access the data in this stack.”

He pointed to the stack with the Hive information stored in it.

“What?” Lady Wraith’neck looked at the data tower uncomprehendingly. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ll make it simple for you. Help me get the information I need and I might not kill you.”

“But I—”

Thorn was tired of her talk. He took her firmly by the back of the neck and pointed her face at the irising aperture which did the retinal scan.

“Put your finger on the pad,” he instructed, nodding at her hands which he had bound in front of her. “And then step back and let me get the information.”

In less time than it had taken to tie her up, the information about the Hive was stored in the tiny transmitter chip he had implanted under his fingernail. He began the transmission – in just a few minutes all the information would be on its way to the Mothership.

“See now?” Thorn smirked at the fuming Lady Wraith’neck, who was still sputtering in impotent rage. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“You…you planned this!” she accused him at last. “All along! You pretended to be a slave but you’re not!”

“You’re smarter than I thought,” Thorn remarked dryly. “And you’re absolutely right, Mistress. I only came here to get this information.”

“You…I can’t believe you!”

Thorn barked a short laugh.

“You think I wanted to come here be some kind of Goddess damned slave for sadistic females like you?” he demanded. “Hell no, Mistress. This information was my only interest in Yonnie Six and now that I have it, I can’t wait to get the Seven Hells out of this fucking crazy place.”

There was a low gasp behind him. Thorn turned, startled, and saw Neh’sa standing there. Her large, dark eyes were wide with shock and betrayal.

Thorn felt frozen in place—he didn’t know what to say. He reached out a hand to her.

“Neh’sa, I –”

She didn’t say a word. She just shook her head and hurried away from him, heading for the exit. Thorn wanted to run after her and try to explain, but if he moved now the transmission would be canceled. He needed to make sure the information was on its way to the Mothership before he did anything else, he told himself – his mission was the first priority. He looked after Neh’sa feeling like his heart was about to burst – he would catch up to her in just a moment and explain the situation. He had to make her understand somehow.

Suddenly he heard low, ugly laughter coming from Lady Wraith’neck, who was still tied up on the floor with the leather leash.

“What’s so fucking funny?” he demanded, glaring down at her.

“Why you are, Thorn!” She sneered at him. “I thought it was all a big act – but you really do love her. And you’ve just exposed yourself as a fraud. Neh’sanna will never trust you again – not that she’s going to be in a position to trust anyone in the very near future. ”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Thorn snarled. “What are you saying?”

But Lady Wraith’neck didn’t answer. She just kept shaking her head and laughing nastily to herself.

“Tell me what you’re talking about – tell me, damn you!” Thorn grabbed her by the shoulders and shook hard.

“It’s just too delicious.” She was still smiling that knowing smile Thorn didn’t like a bit. “I mean, when I concocted the scheme, I just wanted to get rid of her so I could do what I wanted with you – so I could torture you. But now I can see there can be no greater torture than knowing that you’ve lost her forever.”

“I haven’t lost her,” Thorn denied, though the words tasted like dust and ashes in his mouth. “I can go after her, I can explain –”

“Maybe you could if you could find her,” Lady Wraith’neck said, raising an eyebrow at him. “But I think that’s going to be a bit difficult, seeing as how the Pirates I paid to take her promised to sell her in a distant galaxy where there was no chance of ever getting home.”

“You what?” Thorn demanded. “You wouldn’t…” But suddenly a picture of the three disreputable looking males he had seen in the crowd during the ceremony popped into his head. Goddess, they must be the ones Lady Wraith’neck was talking about – the one she had hired to kidnap Neh’sa.

Without another word, he turned and ran for the doors. Maybe he could catch them in time. Maybe he could save Neh’sa before she was taken away forever.

“Wait a minute! What about me? You can’t just leave me here like this,” Lady Wraith’neck shouted after him. Her hands were bound and she was still tied very securely to the data stack with the leather leash.

Thorn didn’t even bother to answer. She could rot in the lowest of the Seven Hells for all he cared. She would be stuck in the Library of All Knowledge until one of the other members of the Sacred Seven decided to come in and look something up. Until then she was going to get pretty hungry – unless, that was, she liked the taste of leather. He was betting it wouldn’t take long for the leather leash to start looking like a four course dinner.

Enjoy it, you evil bitch!

But enough about Lady Wraith’neck. He hit the huge double doors of the library running and shoved his way out onto the broad marble porch. He scanned the surrounding area anxiously, looking for Neh’sa and the three rough looking males he had spotted earlier. But the area was completely empty.

Neh’sa was gone.

Chapter Twenty-four

“There she is!” a rough male voice shouted. “Get her!”

Neh’sa looked over her shoulder in surprise and was shocked to see three huge males bearing down on her. None of them wore a pain collar or had the look of slaves about them. They wore tight fitting leather trousers and loose, colorful shirts of turquoise and green and gold. One of them—the leader she thought, since he was leading the charge, had a black cybernetic patch over one eye.

She vaguely remembered seeing them during the first part of the ceremony and wondering who they were. Maybe some kind of strange emissaries from a distant planet that Mistress Thrust’much had invited? She did, occasionally, reach out to worlds where males were considered equal to females but only when she felt they had something very rare or important to offer in the way of trade or information.

Now Neh’sa wondered how she could ever have thought such a thing. Clearly these males were no emissaries or diplomats. They were pirates or slavers or something of that sort and they were coming for her!

“Get back!” She had to fight to make her voice strong. Tears still stung her eyes after the stunning revelation she’d had in the Library. Thorn…wasn’t who he’d said he was—he wasn’t even close. He was some kind of a spy, sent here to rob Yonnie Six of knowledge. He had no interest in her or in submitting to a Mistress—in submitting to her.

No interest in loving you, you mean, whispered a mean little voice in her head.

Neh’sa tried to shove it away and concentrate on the matter at hand. She had to get out of here! Get back to her ship before it was too late!

But still her stubborn brain continued thinking about the big Kindred. Was his name even Thorn? Was the tragic story he’d told her of his past true or was it all one big, elaborate fabrication?

“Get her!” one of the pirates shouted.

Automatically, Neh’sa reached for her piercer—and came up short. With a start, she realized she’d left it in her ship. She usually carried the tiny but deadly weapon with her everywhere when she was between body-slaves but she hadn’t believed she’d need it on the small moon where only Mistresses with their trusted body-slaves and foreign diplomats were allowed to land.

“Looking for a weapon? Don’t think so, girly.” The male with the eye patch grabbed her by the arm. “You’re coming with us.”

“No! Let me go!” Neh’sa demanded, struggling with all her might—but of course he didn’t listen and his grip was like unbreakable plasti-steel.

She looked wildly towards the landing area where the various ships of all shapes and sizes were parked. But there was no one she could call for help—no one but a tall, scaly Horvath who was leaning against the shiny silver side of a moon-duster and licking his eyeballs with a long, forked tongue.

For some reason the lizard-like alien looked familiar.

“Help!” Neh’sa called to him. “These males are taking me against my will!”

The Horvath shrugged his scaly shoulders.

“Thisss isss nothing to me,” he hissed.

Knowing well that Horvaths only cared about wealth, Neh’sa tried again.

“I’m a prominent Yonnite Mistress—I’ll make it worth your while. Help me!”

At last the Horvath began to look interested. He straightened up from his slouching stance against the shiny silver ship and looked at her speculatively. For a moment, Neh’sa thought he was going to draw some kind of a weapon.

“I don’t think so,” the man with the eyepatch growled. He nodded at one of the other males who drew a handcannon blaster and jabbed it in the direction of the hesitating Horvath.

“Keep your place, my friend,” he growled.

“The lady is ours to do as we please with,” the leader with the eye patch said. “Don’t interfere—no matter what she offers you, it’s not worth the price of your life.”

The Horvath appeared to consider this, then he nodded and allowed himself to slump back against the silver ship again.

Neh’sa understood what that meant—no help there.

“Help!” she shouted, raising her voice as loud as she could, trying to attract attention from the next atmosphere dome over, where the reception and party were being held. “Somebody help me! I’m being kidn—”

A heavy hand clamped over her mouth and an arm wrapped around her waist at the same time.

“That’s enough of that, girly,” the male with the eye-patch growled in her ear. His breath reeked of some strong, almost medicinal liquor, and his arm around her waist was horribly powerful. “You’re coming with us and no more caterwauling,” he informed Neh’sa. “Now come on.”

And before she could say or do anything else, he was forcing her up the plank that led to a later model star hopper. She wanted to fight—to resist. But all three of her captors were armed to the teeth.

“Say goodbye to Yonnie Six, Mistress,” the pirate growled in her ear. “Next stop, Berroff Prime. The Supreme Krine is going to love you—you’re just what he’s been looking for.”

Berroff Prime? Neh’sa stomach felt she’d swallowed a lump of ice as the name registered. There were stories about Berroff Prime and its ruler, the Krine. Stories about his son and the things that had befallen him on Yonnie Six…

But no—surely not! Those were just stories…weren’t they?

Neh’sa had no answers and the pirate captain shoved her roughly up the plank. Before she knew it, she was inside the cramped interior of the pirates’ ship in what appeared to be a cargo hold. The door clanged shut behind her with a finality that made her heart drop to her shoes.

She was trapped and there was no getting out again.

* * * * *

“Did you see her? Did you see my Mistress?” Thorn demanded, rushing up to Greed’lik, who was leaning against the ship waiting for him.

“Sssee who?” The other male licked one yellow, slitted eyeball in a desultory manner.

“Mistress Neh’sanna—the female who bought me!” Thorn exclaimed impatiently. “You sold me to her at the auction barely more than a standard week ago—surely you remember!”

Greed’lik shrugged. “Perhapsss—all of you fleshers look the sssame to me.”

Thorn tried to control his impatience.

“She’s beautiful—tiny and curvy with long dark hair and big dark eyes? Did you see her or not, damn you?”

“Oh her.” Greed’lik straightened up from his slouch. “Yess, she came thisss way.”

“She did? Well, where did she go? Where is she now?” Thorn demanded.

The Horvath shrugged again.

“Don’t know. Wherever the three males who had her took her, I suppossse.”

“What?” Thorn exploded. “You just stood there and let them take her?”

“What elssse could I do?” Greed’lik demanded, sounding peevish. “There were three of them and only one of me. Alssso, they informed me they would kill me if I interfered. I prefer not to die—it isss a peculiarity of mine.”

“Ha-fucking-ha,” Thorn growled. “We have to follow them before it’s too late! We have to try and find their trail.”

“No need.” Greed’lik pushed away from the ship and pressed the opening mechanism, causing a set of steps to detach and descend from its silver side. “I heard their leader sssay where they were going. Berroff Prime—I believe it isss in the Xrandosss System.”

“Berroff Prime?”

Thorn felt his gut clench. It was a planet of barbarian space lords—a place where males reigned supreme as surely as females did on Yonnie Six. A savage land where females were trodden down like dirt beneath the males’ feet. Neh’sa had a strong will but she was tiny and delicate and the Berroffs were huge—bigger than Thorn. The Goddess alone knew what those filthy bastards would do to her.

“Gods,” he groaned. “This is fucking terrible! We have to stop them before they take her there!”

Greed’lik frowned. “You said nothing about pursssuing piratesss into dangerous territory when we made our deal. This will cossst extra.”

“I don’t give a good Goddess damn what it costs—just get us in the fucking air and hail that ship before it’s too late!”

The Horvath shrugged his scaly shoulders.

“Asss you wish. Come.”

Chapter Twenty-five

Much to Thorn’s relief, the pirate ship was still in deep orbit around Yonnie Six. If the pirates had taken the nearest wormhole to Berroff Prime, it would have been too late to stop them. But as it was, he felt like he still had a chance—a slim chance but a chance nonetheless.

“Hail them,” he told Greed’lik, who was piloting. “I want to talk to their leader face to face.”

“Hold a moment.” The Horvath sounded bored but he worked efficiently. After a moment, the face of the male with the cybernetic eye-patch appeared on the viewscreen.

“Who are you?” he growled at Thorn. “And what do you want with us?”

“I want the female you just took from Yonnie Six.” Thorn saw no reason to delay. “She’s mine and I want her back—now.”

“She’s not yours.” The pirate gave him a shrewd look. “She’s a Mistress of Yonnie Six. They do not allow themselves to be claimed by males.”

“Nevertheless, I claim her,” Thorn said, frowning. “I’ll challenge you to any kind of physical duel or contest you want—or if you’re not feeling combative, I’m happy to pay for her.”

“Sorry.” The pirate shook his head. “This little female is already bought and paid for.”

“I’ll pay you double then—triple!” Thorn couldn’t help the desperation creeping into his voice. “Whatever you want but I have to have her!”

For a moment the pirate captain looked tempted. Then he shook his head regretfully.

“Wish I could help you, Brother. You look like you’ve got some Kindred or Havok blood in you and I hate to turn away kin. But this little female is a special delivery for the Supreme Krine of Berroff Prime who swears he must have a Yonnite Mistress this very night. He’ll have my head if I don’t bring her in—it’s not worth my life to hand her over to you.”

“Gods!” Thorn felt like tearing his hair out by the roots. “They’re savage and ruthless in their treatment of females there. What does the fucking Krine want with her?”

The pirate shrugged.

“Don’t know. Look—if you want you can follow us there and challenge for her. The Berroffs might be barbarians but they always welcome fair conflict. Who knows, you might even win her back.”

Thorn saw it was the best offer he was going to get. He couldn’t threaten to blow the pirate ship out of the sky because Neh’sa was on it. All he could do was follow them to Berroff Prime and pray the Krine was in the right mood to deal.

“All right,” he said heavily. “Can I see her at least?”

The captain jerked his head in affirmation and called to one of his subordinates.

“Hey, Tharn—bring up the little female. She has a call.”

In a moment, Neh’sa was standing before the viewscreen. The sight of her made Thorn’s heart squeeze in his chest. Her face was as pale as paper except for two spots of color burning high in her cheeks but she wasn’t crying or begging. She looked as composed as he had ever seen her, though her eyes were wide with fear.

“Neh’sa,” he said. “Mistress, I—”

“Don’t call me that.” Her voice was cold. “I was never your Mistress—not truly. I see that now.”

“I had good reasons for doing what I did,” Thorn protested. “And none of that is important now—do you know where they’re taking you?”

“Yes, I—yes,” she said and pressed her lips tightly together into a scarlet line. “But I don’t know why…why they want me.”

“I don’t either but I’m coming after you to find out,” Thorn told her. “I’m going to try to get you out of there but I don’t know how long it will take. Now, listen to me, Neh’sa…” He leaned forward, looking into her eyes, wanting to make his point. “The Berroffs don’t have the best reputation when it comes to females. In fact, they pretty much treat females the way you Mistresses treat males on Yonnie Six.”

Her eyes widened and for a moment Thorn was afraid she was going to cry. Instead, she simply nodded wordlessly.

“You have to be careful,” Thorn told her. “Don’t make them angry—don’t try to fight. Let me do the fighting for you. Understand? You’re going to have to do what I did when I put myself up for sale at that damn auction—you’re going to have to submit. Can you do that for me, Neh’sa?”

“I…” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “I…I suppose I can try.”

“Do it,” Thorn told her earnestly. “Do whatever it takes to stay alive. I’m coming for you, Neh’sa—I swear I am!”

He felt the fire rising inside him, the flames dancing in his eyes as he spoke. He wondered if she could see it over the viewscreen. For a long moment she was cold and silent. Then she spoke one word.

“Hurry.”

“I will—I am,” Thorn promised earnestly but before he could say more, the guards were hustling her away and the pirate captain took her place in the viewscreen.

“Well, that was a touching exchange,” he said dryly. “Are you certain the lady wants you to rescue her?”

“I’m sure of it,” Thorn said grimly. “No female wants to be stuck on Berroff Prime.”

“Follow our wake then.” The pirate shrugged. “And may the Goddess of Fortune favor you.” He made as if to turn off the viewscreen but Thorn stopped him.

“Wait! I have one request of you. Will you swear, on our shared blood that neither you nor any of your crew will harm or molest Mistress Neh’sanna while you have her in your custody?” he asked.

“That’s an easy vow to take,” the pirate captain said. “The Krine specifically said that the Mistress we brought him was to remain unpenetrated and untouched—it’s part of the deal.”

Thorn felt the tiniest bit of relief, though he couldn’t help wondering ominously why the leader of the Berroffs would specifically want a Yonnite Mistress who was untouched.

“Thank you,” he said harshly. “We’ll fall into line behind you and follow your trail to Berroff Prime.”

“You do that.” The pirate winked his one good eye at Thorn. “And good luck to you, Brother.”

The viewscreen went dark and there was nothing more Thorn could do but plot a course to follow the other ship to Berroff Prime.

* * * * *

Neh’sa thought she had never felt so all alone in all her life as she did in the pirate ship—not even after Heroth had died. Utter desolation filled her.

At least her captors didn’t try to molest her. Instead, they locked her away in a small metal cell and left her to herself with nothing to do but think.

And all of her thoughts seemed to be of Thorn.

Why was he coming after her? Did he really care that she’d been kidnapped and was headed for a fate worst than death?

Neh’sa thought again of the strange story she’d heard about Beroff Prime. About their crown prince, the Krineling and how he had been—but no. She refused to think of that, refused to let her mind dwell on it and the awful possibilities it raised in her mind.

Instead she thought more of Thorn—of his words to Lady Wraith’neck.

“You think I wanted to come here be some kind of Goddess damned slave for sadistic females like you? Hell no, Mistress. This information was my only interest in Yonnie Six and now that I have it, I can’t wait to get the Seven Hells out of this fucking crazy place.”

Thorn hadn’t been a willing participant in anything she’d done to him. He’d only submitted because he had no choice—because he wanted access to the information in the Library of All Knowledge.

The realization made Neh’sa feel angry—both at him and at herself. She was furious at Thorn for making a fool of her, for making her feel so deeply for him when it had all been a game of subterfuge he was playing.

And she was angry with herself for not realizing he wasn’t a willing participant.

Though most Yonnite Mistresses wouldn’t give a damn about their slaves’ feelings, Neh’sa took her role and her actions as a Domme very seriously. She thought of all the ways she’d pushed Thorn’s boundaries—or what he’d made her believe were his boundaries.

She’d thought he was simply too Alpha to allow himself to give in to her easily—now she realized he must have been faking any desire he felt.

Of course, he couldn’t fake his orgasms but she’d forced those from him—forced them in the belief that he was willing to allow her to take him to a higher level, a place of openness and submission most people never reached.

I should have known better, Neh’sa told herself bitterly.

Some males just weren’t made to submit. Thorn was obviously one of them. And yet he had said that he cared for her.

But does he care for me in the way I care for him? Neh’sa wondered. Or is his caring more…conventional?

She knew many Yonnite Mistresses who preferred a relationship that was less kinky. In fact, it was many of these whom she had given the contraception which would make them get pregnant with only female children even if they allowed their body-slaves to penetrate them. These females wanted to be hugged and cuddled and to have regular sex without chaining their body-slave to the agony-cross and flogging him first.

Neh’sa had known the pleasure of conventional sex with her first body-slave, Heroth. She had enjoyed it too—the sweet weight of her lover’s body covering her own, the soft kisses and tender endearments whispered between long, slow thrusts. The deep welling of orgasms that came from the heart as well as the place between her legs.

But though that kind of sex was sweet, it wasn’t all she wanted—all she craved.

Her mother had been right to move them to Yonnie Six when she was just a child. She needed the kink that was at the heart of Yonnite society. The power play—the rush that being a Mistress brought.

And if she was honest, she needed the rush being the submissive brought as well.

Neh’sa remembered the “switch” game she and Heroth had played. She had enjoyed binding him and teasing him and fucking him…but she’d loved it when he did the same to her as well. Had loved being able to give it all up on occasion and allow the male in her life to take control sexually.

I opened that part of myself to Thorn—at least a little, she thought, remembering the way she’d allowed him to hold her down and taste her. I allowed myself to submit—I showed him that needy, kinky part. He knows what I need—both sides of what I need. What must he have been thinking when I tied him down and penetrated him…or when I let him hold me down and do the same to me with his tongue and fingers?

She knew well enough what other cultures thought of the Yonnite sexual practices. “Sick,” they were called. “Disgusting. Perverted. Wrong.”

Was that how Thorn thought of her now?

How he must despise her! The way he’d played her for a fool, leading her on, making her believe he really cared…

“You don’t know everything about me and I can’t tell you…Please don’t grieve over me—I’m not worth it.”

Neh’sa frowned. Yes, Thorn had said those words too. Had he been trying to warn her he wasn’t what he seemed? But why? Was it possible he did care for her? Well, why else would he be coming after her?

She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything anymore.

Drawing her knees up to her chin, Neh’sa wrapped her arms around herself and hid her face. She was kidnapped and on a spaceship headed for the most brutal, male-dominated planet in the sector where the leader himself wanted her for some unspeakable fate. The male coming to save her was one she couldn’t be sure of—she couldn’t be sure of anything.

Goddess, what was going to become of her?

Chapter Twenty-six

“Supreme Krine, we have visitors.”

“Hmm…yes, so we have.” The deep, gravelly voice sent a chill of fear down Neh’sa’s back.

The palace of the Krine of Berroff Prime was built on a strange, floating ball of rock, suspended somehow between two craggy peaks that rose thousands of meters into the air from the frozen dessert below. And the inside of the palace was scarcely less intimidating than the outside, including its inhabitants.

Neh’sa tried not to stare but the male sitting on the roughly hewn stone throne in the middle of the great hall was huge. In fact, he reminded her of Lady Wraith’neck’s Clopsian in both size and shape.

At least he has two eyes instead of just one, she thought.

And then a third eye—a long, lashless lid that looked like a cut in the gray, granite-like skin of his forehead—blinked open and stared at her.

Neh’sa felt sick all over again. Gods, this creature was a monster. Ten feet tall at least and his gray skin looked like it had been carved out of rock. One of his closed fists was larger than her head. What was he going to do to her?

Whatever it is, please Goddess, let it be over quickly! she prayed.

“Supreme Krine,” said the pirate captain who had captured her—Neh’sa had heard his crew calling him Valoth. “We have brought an untouched and unpenetrated Yonnite Mistress, just as you ordered. Now we ask the payment you promised and that you remove the threat you made against us.”

“First I will see that what you say is true,” the Krine rumbled. “To make certain you didn’t just dress up a female as a Mistress to try and pass her off.” He motioned to Neh’sa with one huge gray hand. “Come.”

Neh’sa didn’t want to go but she remembered Thorn’s words—you’ll have to submit. Where was the big Kindred anyway? Had he changed his mind about coming to try and free her?

“Come!” There was a touch of impatience in the gravelly voice and Neh’sa realized she was just standing there, staring up at him. Even seated on the gray stone throne, he was a great deal taller than she.

Hesitantly, she took a step forward and then another and another until she was standing right in front of the huge male. She said nothing, only bowed her head as a proper body-slave would do on Yonnie Six, trying not to anger her captor.

“Very good,” the Krine rumbled. “But look up at me—I wish to see you.”

Mutely, Neh’sa looked up. She had the feeling when he said “see” he wasn’t just talking about looking at her with his physical eyes. Indeed, his two normal eyes were closed when she looked up at him but the third eye—the one in the middle of his forehead—was trained directly on her. It had a whirling purple iris, unlike his other eyes which were a dull gray like his skin, and it seemed to pulsate as she stared into it.

At last the Krine nodded and opened his regular eyes again.

“Very good. She is as you have said—a true Mistress of Yonnie Prime.”

“She is,” a new voice rang out in the vast stone chamber of the throne room. “And I claim her.”

“What? What’s this? Who is that?” The Krine straightened up on his throne, a frown creasing his granite-like face.

“I am Commander Thornx of the Kindred Elite Espionage Corps.” Thorn came into view, pushing past the guards though they all had two or three feet in height on him. “I have come to claim what is rightfully mine—Mistress Neh’sanna of Yonnie Six belongs to me.”

The Krine glared at him, all three eyes blazing.

“You lie! The Mistresses of Yonnie Six do not allow themselves to be claimed by males. They claim males for their own—this is why I wished one brought here to me.”

“I do not lie—she is rightfully mine. See me and you will know.” Thorn stepped closer, looking up into the huge male’s face fearlessly.

The Krine’s two regular eyes drifted closed and the purple third eye focused on Thorn for a long moment. Then he nodded and opened the other two eyes.

“Very well—I believe you when you say this female is yours.” He frowned. “But I perceive that you are somehow hers as well.”

“I was hers,” Thorn said harshly. “Look—look at what she did to me.” Pulling off his shirt, he turned to show his bare back where the angry red lines of Neh’sa’s brand stood out between his shoulder blades.

“This little female did that to you?” The Krine growled, sounding angry. “Branded you as her own—put her mark upon you?”

“She did.” Thorn turned to face him again. “Among…other things.”

Oh Goddess…Neh’sa felt cold all over. Could it be the only reason Thorn had come after her was to get vengeance for the way she had dominated him? But surely not—Thorn must just be playing a part. She hoped.

The Krine nodded.

“Very well, I see now that your claim to punish this female is at least as great as my own. However, my vengeance has been delayed long enough. It must be fulfilled today for this is the twentieth cycle marker since my son was taken from me.”

Neh’sa felt her heart sink. So the stories about the crown prince—the Krineling—and what had happened to him on Yonnie Six, were true. And now his father wanted vengeance.

And I’ll be the one to pay somehow, she thought dismally. Goddess help me!

But Thorn clearly wasn’t ready to give up.

“If you will not give her up then I challenge for her,” he said, glaring up at the Krine.

The big male looked surprised.

“You think to challenge a Berroff?” he demanded. “You may be large among your people but you are nothing to us.”

“Nevertheless, I challenge,” Thorn said strongly, lifting his chin. “Bring your strongest warrior and I will best him and claim Neh’sanna for my own.”

The Krine nodded thoughtfully.

“I respect your spirit. I will allow you to challenge for the right to vengeance.” He raised his voice. “Let Judoth step forward.”

Out of the ranks of the guards, which encircled the massive stone throne room, stepped possibly the biggest male Neh’sa had ever seen. He was even bigger than the Krine and bulging muscles stood out like boulders from his arms and chest. He wore only a kilt-like garment made of many leather strips. Between the strips she could see a shaft longer than her arm swinging down between his knees.

Gods, he’s huge everywhere! The thought made her sick with fear though she tried not to show it on her face.

“I am here, my Krine.” The gigantic male’s voice was like thunder, echoing in the vast room.

“Judoth—finest of my warriors—you were the chosen instrument of my vengeance. Now another challenges you for that place. Will you risk your life and your honor to retain your position or do you yield?”

“Yield?” The immense warrior laughed so loudly the echoes rang in the vast stone room. Neh’sa was forced to cover her ears. It was deafening. “No, my Lord Krine—I will not yield,” he said at last.

“Then you must fight this Kindred.” The Krine indicated Thorn, whose face was absolutely impassive.

“As the Supreme Krine wishes,” the warrior rumbled.

“Very well—then let the challenge commence.” The Krine clapped his massive hands together, making a painfully loud echo in the vaulted room.

“Wait,” Thorn said quickly. “Let me move my female back to safety before we exchange blows.”

“As you wish.” The Krine inclined his head.

Thorn gripped Neh’sa by the arm and walked her swiftly back to the edge of the circle of guards surrounding the huge room. Behind them, the huge Berroff warrior loosed another deafening laugh.

“That’s right, little male,” he called to Thorn. “Take the female away to where she cannot see you being bested and torn limb from limb.”

Thorn ignored him.

“Listen to me,” he muttered in Neh’sa’s ear. “I’ll try not to but I might have to flame-up. You need to stay well back in case that happens.”

“What?” She looked at him uncertainly. “But…but can you control it?”

“I don’t know.” Thorn sounded grim. “But this entire room appears to be made of stone. So it’s not like that damn club where I was afraid I’d burn it to the ground with everyone inside it. Just stay well back and hopefully everything will be all right.”

“Fine. I’ll try.” Neh’sa looked at the huge Berroff guards towering around them like tall gray, muscular trees.

Thorn must have seen her discomfort because he steered her towards the captain of the space pirates who had brought her here in the first place.

“You—” He poked a finger in the pirate captain’s chest. “You brought my female here—now keep her safe while I fight for her.”

The captain nodded gravely.

“As you say, Brother. And I would not have brought her if the Krine hadn’t compelled me. Kidnapping females isn’t to my taste.”

“Fine. Just stay well back and put Neh’sa behind you if things get rough,” Thorn instructed.

He turned back to face the huge Berroff warrior who was watching with a look of apparent amusement on his lumpish face. He dwarfed Thorn, towering at least four feet taller than the big Kindred and his shoulders were fully twice as broad as Thorn’s.

“Well,” the pirate captain murmured in Neh’sa’s ear, “Your male’s got balls—I’ll give him that. I wouldn’t want to go up against that brute barehanded. Or even with a handcannon blaster for that matter.”

“Thorn will be fine,” Neh’sa said through numb lips, hoping it was true. “You’ll see. He’ll be just fine.”

But would he?

* * * * *

Thorn faced the huge Berroff warrior and tried to get a sense of the other male’s weaknesses. Well, he was big—his size might make him slow. Other than that, Thorn had an idea that the third eye all Berroffs seemed to have might be vulnerable. Although this warrior’s eye wasn’t open as the Krine’s was. In fact, none of the other warriors had third eyes which were open more than a slit. Thorn wondered what the significance of that was. Was it—

And then an immense gray fist was coming at his head, effectively cutting off his train of thought.

Thorn dodged quickly out of the way of the first blow and then the second one. He’d been right—the giant was slow—though not nearly as slow as he’d hoped. Also, there was only so much dodging he could do. Eventually he would have to get close enough to strike a blow of his own and the other male had a much longer reach than he did. Still, he had to chance it.

Thorn danced around behind, forcing the Berroff to follow him, turning clumsily. He needed to finish this quickly and get out of here with Neh’sa before the Krine changed his mind about releasing her.

He turned again, then dodged to the left. When the other male took the bait, he rushed him, head down, and plowed into the Berroff’s midsection.

He’d been hoping to knock the giant off his feet—to bring him down to size so he could reach him. But though the huge male let out an “Oof!” and doubled over, he didn’t fall as Thorn had hoped. Worse, he shot out an arm and got it locked around Thorn’s throat.

“Now, little warrior,” he growled in Thorn’s ear, as he straightened up, his grip growing tighter, cutting off Thorn’s air supply. “Now we shall see who gets the female.”

“Get…off me!” Thorn growled, aiming a kick behind him. It connected with the Berroff’s rock-hard thigh but the other male didn’t even stumble.

“Oh yes, she’s a pretty little one,” he rumbled, squeezing even harder until Thorn felt like his fucking head was going to pop off. “So pretty and so tiny. I can’t decide whether I want to fuck her or make her suck my cock first. Of course…” He thundered laughter again. “She’s so little once I get my cock up in her, it’s likely to fill her from cunt to mouth so she can do both at once!”

The thought of Neh’sa in the arms of another male—the idea of this big brute taking her—forcing himself on her, inside her—was more than Thorn could stand. He could feel the sparks in his eyes turning to flames as the fire inside him started to rise.

“You’ll…never…touch her,” he choked out, grabbing at the huge arm locked around his neck. “Never!” Gods, he was going to die! He couldn’t breathe.

“Oh yes I will, little warrior,” the Berroff laughed again—that deafening trollish chuckle Thorn was beginning to hate. “I’ll fuck her inside out while you watch—if there’s anything left of you to watch, that is!”

It was too much.

“The hell you will!” Thorn choked as the fire rose inside him. “I’ll see you in the lowest level of the Seven Hells before you touch her!”

And then the flames were spreading from his burning eyes, licking down his neck and shoulders to coat the rest of his body.

This time Thorn had no fear of burning down the structure he was in so he let the fire go. Let it go as he hadn’t done since that fateful night so long ago when he’d come back to the cabin in the woods and found his mate being assaulted. He allowed the flames to engulf him completely from the top of his head to the tips of his toes and Gods, it felt good, so good to finally ease the never-ending pressure inside him and let the fire burst free.

With a roar of pain, the giant Berroff at last released him.

“What in the name of the Father Gods?” he gasped as Thorn turned to face him, still blazing.

“Come on!” Thorn shouted, his rage rising to meet the fire that engulfed him.

A jet of flame shot straight up in a pillar above his head and all the Berroff guards in a circle around the throne room muttered uneasily and drew back.

“Are you afraid to come after me now that the fight is more even?” Thorn demanded.

“Never!” The giant warrior narrowed his eyes, his lumpish features twisting in rage. With a low roar, he rushed at Thorn, both arms outstretched as though to knock him to the floor.

Thorn ducked and spun away, jabbing two burning fingers into the other male’s slitted third eye as he did so.

“Arrrgg! My eye—my sacred eye! He’s burned it—burned it!” the giant screamed, sinking to his knees.

“Get up!” Thorn shouted at him, consumed with fire and rage. “Get up and fight me like a true male. You said you’d fuck my female—now you know the truth. You’re the one who’s going to get fucked, you bastard. Fucked with my flame. Get up!”

His taunting got the giant Berroff to his feet. With a deep-throated cry of rage, he rushed at Thorn again, arms swinging wildly.

This time Thorn ducked low and met him with a bear-hug. His flame burned hot enough to scorch to the bone—they would see how long the other male could stand his deadly embrace.

It didn’t take the Berroff warrior long to find out he’d taken on more than he could handle. When the long, leather strips of his kilt caught fire and the flesh of his arms and chest began smoking, he screamed and backed away.

With an effort, Thorn let him go. There was part of him that wanted to hold on—wanted to burn the other male to a crisp. But if he did that, the fire would have not just control of his body, but of his soul as well. He had to control it—had to reign in the destructive force that lived inside him.

And so he let the Berroff back away without following, watching as the other male howled and beat at himself, smothering the flames that licked at his flesh.

At last the giant had completely extinguished himself. He looked up at the Krine, who had all three eyes wide open in surprise.

“My Krine, I thought you said he was a Kindred.”

“So I am,” Thorn answered him in a low, dangerous voice. “But I am also half Pyro. And I swear by all the Gods that ever were I’ll burn you to dust and ashes if you touch my female or even speak of touching her again.”

The Berroff warrior looked at him uncertainly and then back to his ruler.

“My Krine…” he muttered. “I cannot fight such an opponent without the use of weapons. My flesh is burned and my sacred eye may never be the same.”

The Krine looked extremely displeased but nodded his head.

“Very well, Judoth—go and nurse your wounds. You have disgraced yourself before me and the other warriors assembled here today.”

Head down, the defeated warrior left the circular stone throne-room with one hand still clapped over his third eye.

Thorn let out a breath of relief. Now, at last, he could hopefully take Neh’sa home.

He let one last blast of fire loose—allowing a gout of flame fifteen feet tall to shoot from his head. And then the unstable element inside him seemed sated and he knew it was time to pull it back in.

Slowly, slowly…like reeling in a line with something huge hooked on the end, Thorn pulled the fire back inside himself. Little by little the blaze began to extinguish itself until at last, the only flames on him were the ones dancing in his eyes. He brushed off his clothing, which was unharmed, due to the personal shield exuded around his body during a flame-up, and approached the throne.

He came to a stop in front of the Krine who was still watching him with a frown on his face.

“I claim the female, Neh’sanna,’ he said in a low, carrying voice. “She is mine to do with as I please.”

“Your claim is heard and acknowledged,” the Krine rumbled, still frowning. “But you will not do with her as you please, Warrior—you have not won the right to take her yet.”

“What are you talking about?” Thorn demanded. “I won the challenge which means I won my female.”

But the Krine was shaking his stone-gray head.

“No. You have only won the right to vengeance—my vengeance. Which means before you take her, you will do to her as I please.”

“What does that mean I’ll do with her as you please?” Thorn felt frustration building inside him. “What are you talking about?”

“You have won the right to be the instrument of my vengeance—I thought you understood that.” The Krine was scowling at him. “Vengeance for my son who was taken and used twenty cycles ago, just as you yourself were used.”

Thorn still wasn’t sure what he meant.

“You mean you want me to take vengeance for you because of something that happened to your son?”

“He was taken—taken by a slaving party unawares in his sleep.” The Krine’s voice rose to a rumbling roar as he spoke and his third eye turned a stormy dark purple which was nearly black. “Taken and sold to a Mistress on Yonnie Six.”

“Excuse me, my Lord Krine.” Neh’sa’s voice rose high and clear in the echoing stone chamber as she stepped forward. “Forgive me for speaking in your presence without leave but I have heard the stories of what befell your son, the Krineling and while I am very sorry such a thing happened on my planet, you must know that I am not the Mistress who enslaved him.”

“I don’t care!” the Krine shouted, his voice echoing like rolling thunder from the domed stone ceiling. “Do you know what she did to him? This Mistress, she took a proud warrior who cared for nothing but fighting and fucking and war and she broke him! She made him wear a leash—she penetrated him as though he were the female and she the male. And do you know the worst of it?”

He leaned forward, glaring at Neh’sa so venomously that Thorn felt compelled to put himself between them, even though the Krine was still seated on his throne.

“Do you know?” he demanded. “This Mistress, this harlot somehow made my son love what she did to him. She brainwashed him! When my warriors finally found him to bring him back home, he didn’t want to go. They had to bring him back by force.”

He paused for a moment, rubbing his third eye like a male will rub his temples to rid himself of a headache. Thorn didn’t speak and neither did Neh’sa—what could they say?

“He didn’t want to go,” the Krine repeated at last, wearily. “And when he was finally brought back home, all he wanted was to go back to her—to go back to his Mistress.” He spat the word like a curse. “When I wouldn’t let him, he renounced the throne forever. He lives now as a hermit on the other side of Berroff Prime. He has refused to ever see me again.”

The Krine looked up at Thorn, his eyes hard and dry yet so filled with sorrow they made Thorn ache.

“He gave up his place on the throne and left me without an heir—all for love of a female who used him like dirt,” he said, his voice harsh and cold. “I want vengeance for that—my soul cries out for it. And I will have it before I die. I will have it on this very day.” He pounded the arm of his stone throne for emphasis, all three of his eyes blazing.

Gods, what a mess! Thorn didn’t know what to say. He could understand the other male’s hate and animosity but what happened to his son hadn’t been Neh’sa’s fault. How could he persuade the Krine to let her go?

He could flame-up again but Neh’sa wasn’t bonded to him so his personal shield wouldn’t extend to her—he would burn her if he got too close. Plus, his flame was an effective weapon but the blasters he saw the Berroff guards wearing were also effective and had a longer range. He and Neh’sa would be blasted into so many pieces and shreds before they could get back to the ship where Greed’lik was waiting for them. If only—

“What do you need in order to right this wrong?” Neh’sa’s voice rang out, soft but clear in the stone chamber.

Thorn couldn’t believe her.

“Neh’sa,” he muttered. “Don’t—”

“What manner of vengeance do you seek?” she said, ignoring him and speaking only to the Krine.

“What kind of vengeance? I’ll tell you, Mistress…” The Krine leaned forward on his stone throne, his eyes narrowed with anger. “I want to see done to her—to you—what that Mistress did to him. You shall be tied and flogged—made hurt and helpless. You shall be held down and penetrated until you beg for mercy. For I know the ways of your people—you don’t allow males to penetrate you. So the humiliation you feel and the pain you suffer will be a just punishment—a righteous vengeance.”

Thorn opened his mouth to say he would never do such things to the female he cared for. Taking control and going down on her had been one thing. But he had no wish to tie her down and beat her or to humiliate her or savage her sexually. He didn’t want to hurt her. Didn’t want to—

“I will submit to your vengeance,” Neh’sa said, breaking into his frantic thoughts. “As long as it is enacted by Thorn and no other.”

“What?” Thorn looked at her, his mouth suddenly dry. “Neh’sa—”

“You’ll submit, you say?” the Krine demanded, glaring at her. “Even to penetration?”

“Yes.” Neh’sa hung her head. “Even to that. Not only because you want vengeance but because…” She swallowed and looked up at Thorn. “Because I deserve it. For the things I’ve done. For the boundaries I’ve broken and the lines I’ve crossed. I will submit.”

Thorn at last found his voice.

“I never asked that of you,” he told Neh’sa hoarsely. “I never blamed you—”

“Maybe I blame myself.” She looked up at him, her eyes flashing. “Maybe this is what I deserve. Just as you think you deserve pain for your own past—maybe the Goddess brought us here on purpose that I might atone for my sins.”

“Neh’sa, I don’t think—”

“Will you do it or not, Warrior?” the Krine interrupted, glaring at him. “I would think you’d be glad of a chance to get your own vengeance. Isn’t that why you came after this Mistress of yours in the first place? Because she took you as no female should take a male? Because she branded you?” He motioned at Thorn’s back. “Isn’t that why you challenged to become the instrument of my vengeance? If you wish to relinquish the place you won, I have many other warriors besides Judoth who wouldn’t mind taking turns penetrating this female and making her pay for her crimes against males.”

Thorn realized he was stuck. They couldn’t leave this place without the Krine’s say-so. And until the aggrieved Berroff leader got what he perceived to be his “vengeance” he wasn’t going to let them go. Worse, if Thorn refused to hurt and use Neh’sa, some other, much larger and rougher male or males would be appointed to do it.

There was no way they were getting out of the Krine’s palace without a very serious encounter. He looked at Neh’sa who was looking up at him.

“Thorn,” she murmured and there was a depth of pleading in her lovely dark eyes that he’d never seen before. “Thorn, please…”

“I don’t want to do this to you. Don’t want to hurt you like this,” he protested in a low voice.

“Better you than anyone else. Please.” Her eyes were intense—fearful.

He couldn’t deny her, though he badly wished he could. Couldn’t say no because if he refused to do this—refused to hurt and humiliate and take her, he would be leaving her to the tender mercies of the huge Berroff warriors.

There was nothing else he could do.

Looking up at the Krine, he spoke.

“And if we do this for you—if I do all the things to Neh’sa which were done to your kin to your satisfaction—then you’ll let us go?”

“When my vengeance has been had, I will at last be able to rest,” the Krine growled.

Which wasn’t exactly the specific promise that they would be allowed to leave that Thorn was looking for, but it seemed to be the best they were going to get.

“All right,” he said heavily. “I’ll do as you ask. Goddess help me, I’ll do it.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

The Krine must have been planning his vengeance for some time, was Neh’sa’s first thought on entering the smaller room which had been set up like a dungeon. It had some of the best equipment she’d ever seen and all of it looked unused.

There was an agony cross, an array of floggers, whips and canes, plenty of rope for bondage, collars and leashes, and a flat, padded table with a cage built in underneath. The walls were draped with red velvet curtains, all except for a shadowy alcove with a chair which very much resembled the stone throne in the circular throne room.

It was on this chair that the Krine seated himself, placed so far back in the shadows that only his three eyes could be seen, gleaming in the darkness. Apparently they were going to give a command performance for one.

Neh’sa knew what she had to do. She could feel the dread coming from Thorn in waves. He didn’t want to do this—didn’t want to hurt her. But nothing less than her full submission to a male would please the angry Krine.

It’s a good thing I’m dressed for the part.

She was wearing a formal gown—the same one she’d put on what seemed like hours ago for the ceremony at the Library of All Knowledge. It was black lace with a high neck that opened to a wide diamond of bare flesh which showed the inner curves of her breasts. Her nipples were barely hidden below the thin, stretchy material. It was slit high to show her panties, also black lace, and she had on delicate black strappy heels that wound around her ankles to match it.

It was the perfect outfit for allowing a slave to kiss her panties—it was also perfect for what they had to do here today.

Neh’sa felt her heart skip a beat as she turned to face the big Kindred. Though the circumstances were different, this scenario reminded her of the games she’d played with her first love so many years ago.

Admit it, whispered a voice in her head. You’ve been wanting to play those same games—the switch game—with Thorn almost from the moment you bought him.

It was true and she couldn’t deny it. She loved being in charge—loved mastering a slave and dominating him sexually.

But she also, on occasion, loved being dominated.

Her nipples tingled with anticipation and her pussy felt wet and swollen beneath the thin panel of her panties.

“Kneel to your Master,” the voice from the shadowy alcove commanded. Apparently the Krine wanted to direct the action. “Kneel in the way a female should kneel to her male—as they do here on Berroff Prime.”

Slowly, she sank to her knees before the big Kindred.

“Master,” she said clearly, looking up at him. “I am yours…do what you will with me. Punish me for my sins.”

“Neh’sa!” Thorn looked like he didn’t know whether to be shocked, upset…or turned on.

For far back in those mismatched eyes, Neh’sa thought she could see the shadow of desire—the dark need to dominate which she also had inside herself.

It surprised her not at all. She had always known that Thorn was an Alpha—a Dominant by nature. What had surprised her was how he had allowed himself to be dominated in turn.

No—that was all an act. He didn’t really want it, she reminded herself bitterly. But she didn’t want to think about that now—couldn’t think about it if they were going to put on a convincing show and win their freedom.

And anyway, she knew that this at least, Thorn wouldn’t have to fake. He could dominate her quite well if only he would allow himself to rise up and embrace the dark need inside him.

“Neh’sa…” he said, frowning down at her. “You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do,” she insisted in a low voice, meant for his ears alone. “This is the only thing that will satisfy him, Thorn—you know it is. You have to take me as I have taken you—you have to make me pay for my sins.”

A hard look came into his eyes and he gave a short, sharp nod of his head.

“If that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I need,” Neh’sa whispered, and she wasn’t lying. Sometimes the need to submit was as strong as the need to dominate and it had been so long, so very, very long since she had given in to her submissive side.

“Suck him!” the Krine commanded from his alcove. “Suck your Master’s cock and show him how sorry you are for your crimes.”

Thorn didn’t speak. He simply opened the tight black flight leathers he was wearing, exposing his long, hard cock. Lady Wraith’neck must have removed the non-contact bracelets at the same time she removed Neh’sa’s collar because he handled himself with ease.

Neh’sa had touched him and handled him also, many times—but always on her own terms. Now she knelt before the big Kindred and opened her mouth for him submissively, ready to take whatever he chose to give her.

“Take it,” Thorn growled, thrusting his shaft in her face. “Suck as much as you can.”

He was extremely large so this was a big request but Neh’sa did her best to obey orders. Leaning forward, she captured him in her hand and drew a long line with her tongue from the base of his cock to the tip of the broad, flaring head. She opened her mouth as wide as she could to take him in—his dark spice invading her senses as she did so. She swirled her tongue around the wide head, tasting the salty droplets of his precum.

“No,” the Krine’s deep, gravely voice insisted. “Take him deeper—suck your master as you should!”

It had been years and years since Heroth but her first body-slave had been well endowed too—though not so well endowed as Thorn. Still, Neh’sa had learned a skill she thought might work with the big Kindred—if she could still do it.

Taking a deep breath, she took more of him in her mouth, did her best to relax her throat muscles, and swallowed.

She heard a low curse from Thorn and then he was sliding down her throat. Goddess she felt so full of him! She could only imagine what it would feel like when he penetrated her lower…when he shoved his thick cock deep in her pussy.

The illicit thought made her wet, as it always had. The Mistresses of Yonnie Six didn’t allow such forbidden behavior. They believed it was wrong for a female to spread her thighs and allow a male to penetrate her to the core, but Goddess, she wanted it so badly. It had been so long…

“Gods, Neh’sa…” Thorn’s deep voice was hoarse as he tangled one hand in her hair and thrust slowly and carefully into her mouth. “Gods, can’t believe you’re taking all of me.”

Neh’sa wondered if he would come in her mouth—just the fact that she was helpless to stop him if he chose to made her feel hot and cold all over. Her submissive side—the side she’d kept buried for ten long years—was coming out and there was nothing she could do to stop it—not that she wanted to.

“Fill her!” commanded the low, growling voice from the shadows.

Neh’sa jumped a little. She had been so involved in submitting to the big Kindred and taking him deep down her throat, she’d almost completely forgotten the reason they were doing this in the first place.

“Fill her,” The Krine commanded again. Though all they could see of him was his eyes flashing in the darkness, Neh’sa could tell he was getting pleasure out of watching their display. “Give her a belly-full of your come,” he ordered Thorn.

Neh’sa gripped the big Kindred’s thighs and looked up into his eyes. He had both hands buried in her hair now but he wasn’t completely lost in his own pleasure. Or if he was, he seemed to want her to share it. As their gazes locked, she felt his thick shaft flex.

But instead of continuing to fuck her deep, he withdrew, sliding out until only the head of his cock was in her mouth.

“I’m going to come now, Neh’sa,” he told her, his deep voice hoarse. “Going to shoot my come in your mouth and down your throat. Can you be a good girl and swallow it for me? Can you take it all and not spill a drop?”

Neh’sa felt a flutter low in her belly. Nodding, she slipped the broad head of his cock from her mouth just for an instant.

“Yes, Master,” she managed to whisper. “Yes, I think I can.”

“Good. Then suck me some more. And get ready to swallow,” Thorn commanded, his eyes flashing.

Obediently, Neh’sa took his thick length back in her mouth. Goddess, what was happening to her? How had she gotten to this point—on her knees before her own body-slave, sucking his shaft and getting ready to swallow his come?

And yet part of her—the part she’d suppressed for so many long years—loved it.

Thorn took a fresh grip on her hair, holding her tight, and thrust in and out of her mouth. Neh’sa felt him flex again and then he was coming—flooding her mouth with his salty essence, filling her with himself above as she knew he soon would be below.

She shivered again at the hot, illicit thought and swallowed eagerly, taking every drop as he had instructed. He tasted like the sea—like salt and tears with a hint of bitterness—utterly delicious. Utterly Thorn.

“Good girl, Neh’sa,” he groaned as he came. “Such a good girl to suck your Master’s cock and take it all in your mouth—such a good girl to swallow all my come.”

The words of praise made her even hotter. Between her thighs, Neh’sa could feel her pussy gushing. Goddess, it felt good after all these years to submit! But she needed more—needed to come…

At last Thorn finished and withdrew from her mouth. He was still hard—Kindred males were capable of being multi-orgasmic so his continued erection didn’t surprise Neh’sa.

What did surprise her was the way he pulled her to her feet, wrapped his arms around her, and gave her a passionate, searching kiss. It was almost as though he was trying to taste himself on her.

After a breathless, surprised moment, she kissed him back, opening her mouth to him, giving him what he wanted. Despite the fact that his deception was still in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help giving in to the kiss completely. His big body felt so good against hers—so hard and hot—and the scent of him filled her head. She felt like she couldn’t get enough of him—like she never wanted the kiss to end.

“Gods, Neh’sa,” Thorn groaned when he finally pulled back for some air. “Can’t believe—”

“Enough!” growled the voice of the Krine from the shadows. “You are meant to be punishing her! My vengeance is by no means complete.”

“Fine.” Thorn turned to glare into the shadowy alcove. “What would you have us do next?”

“Collar her,” the Krine replied. “Collar and leash her as the Mistress who took my son did to him.”

There was a board with various sized collars and leashes hanging from it to one side of them.

Thorn took a collar and looked at her. “Neh’sa,” he murmured and there was both question and need in his deep voice.

Mutely, Neh’sa lifted her hair, answering his question, offering her throat. This was part of it too—part of her submission. Letting him do to her what she had done to him. Wearing his collar the way he had worn hers.

“Good.” The Krine sounded pleased. “Now lead her on all fours to the whipping cross. Tie her there and whip her—punish her as she punished you.”

Of course, Neh’sa hadn’t whipped him, though she could tell by the marks on his big body that Lady Wraith’neck certainly had. Still, she dropped to her hands and knees and crawled obediently by Thorn’s side as he led her to the agony cross. She had done other things to Thorn without his true consent—things which he probably had hated and resented her for.

Now it was time to pay.

“I don’t want to hit you too hard,” he murmured in her ear as he cuffed her wrists to the cross pieces above her head. “But I’ll need to leave some marks to satisfy the blood-thirsty bastard.”

“Use the cane,” Neh’sa advised him in a low voice. “It makes welts that should please him.”

“Welts?” He frowned and shook his head. “Hell no, sweetheart—I don’t want to do that. The cane fucking hurts—I ought to know, fucking Lady Wraith’neck used it on me enough last night.”

“I thought you weren’t bothered by pain,” Neh’sa pointed out breathlessly.

“There are different kinds of pain and you damn well know it,” he growled, making certain the buckles around her wrists were tight. “I can take physical pain all day long but that doesn’t mean I want to inflict it—especially on you.”

“Why not?” Neh’sa demanded. “Don’t you want revenge for what I put you through—for the way I made you submit, Master?” She looked at him challengingly. “Don’t you want vengeance for the things I did to you—things you never wanted in the first place?”

His face went hard and the sparks of flame danced faster in his mismatched eyes.

“You trying to get me to hit you, Neh’sa? You want to be punished?”

“Maybe I should be,” she murmured. “For being so stupid. For believing you wanted to be a slave—that you wanted to submit to me.”

“Damn it!” he growled, his voice thick with frustration. “Don’t tempt me, Mistress. I may not use the cane on you but that doesn’t mean I won’t paddle your soft little ass until it’s redder than a Fandarian sunset.”

“Do it,” Neh’sa taunted him. She wasn’t quite certain why she was doing this—maybe she was lashing out the only way she could because she was angry at him, angry that he had fooled her so completely. That he had made her think he truly cared…

“Goddess damn it, you asked for it!” Thorn growled. Grabbing the back of her black lace dress, he ripped, tearing it right down the middle and exposing her bare back and panty-clad ass.

Neh’sa shivered as she felt the cool air touching her bare skin but she made no move to stop him. Instead, she pressed her ass outwards, taunting him with a target.

“Do it,” she told him again. “Go on—do it, Thorn! Pay me back for what I did to you.”

“Pull down her undergarments,” the Krine commanded from his seat in the shadows. “There should be nothing to stop her pain—bare her before you beat her!”

Thorn obliged. Neh’sa felt one big hand tangle itself in the back of her black lace panties and then he was ripping them down, baring her ass and her pussy, which was opened by the way her legs were spread and bound to the agony cross.

Goddess, had she ever felt so helpless? So vulnerable? Even with Heroth when she played the switch game they hadn’t gone this far. But Neh’sa found she didn’t want to stop—she pressed her ass outwards some more, offering herself, her pussy feeling wet and swollen as she waited for the first blow.

She didn’t have to wait long. Grabbing a thick, long-handled black paddle from the peg board near the agony cross, Thorn swung it at her bare bottom.

“Is this what you want? he demanded. “Is this what you need?”

Neh’sa couldn’t answer in words. She gasped as she felt the flat, hard surface connect with her soft, unprotected flesh. A stinging pain ran through her—a sharp, bright sensation that seemed to light up her entire body.

“Ah!” she gasped, but she didn’t try to pull away. Instead she pressed her ass out even more, showing him she wasn’t afraid, taunting him, willing him to punish her, to take back the control she’d taken from him for so long.

Thorn swung again and again—not hard enough to break the skin but certainly hard enough to redden her ass, to make her pay. Soon Neh’sa lost count of the strokes—she only felt the bright, stinging pain and the warm, gushing pleasure it brought with it. She was losing herself in sensation…losing herself in the pain and the pleasure and the need that threatened to overwhelm her…

She was barely aware that there were tears running down her face as emotion overtook her until Thorn threw down the paddle and took her face in his hands.

“Goddess damn it, Neh’sa.” His voice was hoarse and low with something that sounded like regret.

“It…it’s all right,” she somehow managed to tell him. “I’m all right. I just…I just…” But she couldn’t say what she was or what she felt—couldn’t put it into words. It was too much—too overwhelming.

But it wasn’t over yet.

“Enough of the punishment,” growled the Krine from his alcove. “Her ass is red enough. Now it is time for the penetration.”

Thorn didn’t answer. Instead, he unfastened her ankles and wrists from the cross with quick, jerky motions. Then he pulled Neh’sa into his arms and carried her, torn dress and all, to the padded, waist high table in the center of the room.

It was the perfect height for what he had to do, Neh’sa saw. There were wrist and ankle cuffs on each of its four corners to hold a submissive in place.

But before he put her down, Thorn held her for a long moment, cradling her to his broad chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “So sorry, Neh’sa.”

“Don’t be. I deserved it—deserved the beating,” she whispered back.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did.”

Thorn sat her stinging bottom carefully on the cool leather of the padded table and cupped her cheek in his hand, searching her eyes.

“Neh’sa, I…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything. Just do…what you have to do.”

She got shakily to her hands and knees and placed her wrists in place so he could fasten the leather cuffs. Then she looked up at Thorn, waiting for him to tie her down.

“Go ahead—do it.”

He shook his head.

“I’m no rapist,” he growled, frowning at her. “I know you don’t allow yourself to be penetrated.”

“I…haven’t in a long time,” Neh’sa murmured. “But I did. Long ago…”

“The slave you loved so much,” Thorn guessed. “The one you dedicated the Mercy clinic to.”

Slowly, she nodded. “It’s been…a long time.”

“At least I know you’re not a virgin.” He scowled. “But I don’t like this. Don’t like this big bastard telling us what to do.”

“Do it,” Neh’sa whispered urgently. Her ass felt hot and tender and her pussy was throbbing with need. “It…it’s the only way we’ll get out of here.”

“I don’t know if he’ll let us go even if we do as he says,” Thorn growled softly. “He seems to like having his own private sex show a little too much for this to just be about vengeance if you ask me.”

“We have no choice,” Neh’sa reminded him. Then, seeing that he needed reassurance, she murmured, “Thorn, please—I want you to do this. I need it—need you in me.”

“Gods, Neh’sa…” His eyes softened and he stroked her cheek. “Never thought I’d hear you say that. Never thought I’d hear my Mistress beg me to fuck her.”

“Don’t call me that.” Neh’sa looked away from him. She couldn’t believe she’d admitted her forbidden desires—her illicit needs to him. “I’m not the Mistress in this situation,” she reminded him. “You’re the Master. And I’m your slave—tied down and helpless—waiting for you to use me however you see fit.”

“Gods!” Thorn’s low groan of lust seemed to go straight to her core. “I want you so much, sweetheart. Want to fill your sweet pussy with my cock and fuck you!”

“Do it then,” Neh’sa whispered. She folded her arms and lowered her forehead to the padded tabletop, spreading her legs even wider to bare her pussy—surrendering herself completely. “Do it, Master—fuck me.”

With a low growl, Thorn did as she asked. Taking her hips in his big hands, he guided the broad tip of his cock to the slick entrance of her pussy.

Neh’sa tried to bite back a moan as she felt him slip over her swollen folds. Her clit was throbbing like a second heartbeat between her thighs and she felt like she would go crazy if he didn’t fill her soon. She had given in wholly to her submissive side now—the cool dominant Mistress she usually presented to the world was completely out of reach. She had been reduced to a quivering puddle of lust and she couldn’t help it—didn’t want to help it.

She just wanted Thorn.

“Please!” she moaned at the same time the Krine ordered,

“Penetrate her! Do it now!”

With one long, hard thrust, Thorn filled her completely.

“Ah!” Neh’sa couldn’t help gasping. It had been a long time since Heroth and she could feel her inner walls stretching to the limit to accommodate the big Kindred’s immense shaft.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Thorn’s voice was hoarse and strained, as though he was having a hard time holding himself back. But he stayed where he was, waiting for her, wanting to make sure he hadn’t hurt her.

“I…I think so,” Neh’sa whispered. “You’re just…really big and it’s been a long time for me. A really long time.”

She shifted her hips some, trying to get used to the feeling of being filled so completely, of having Thorn’s shaft in her to the hilt. Though it hurt some, it was a good pain—the feeling of being filled and owned by a male she wanted so badly she would do anything to have him.

Anything at all—even let him dominate her.

How pathetic is that? whispered a little voice in the back of her head but Neh’sa pushed it away.

“I’m all right,” she told Thorn. “You…you can move now. You can…can fuck me.”

“Gods, sweetheart—if you’re sure you’re okay. Can’t hold back anymore.”

He pulled almost all the way out of her and thrust in again. Neh’sa moaned at the deep pleasure/pain that accompanied the motion and pressed her hips back to meet him, loving the feeling of being owned so completely.

There was no room in her head now for doubt or self-recrimination, although she was aware they would certainly come later. She couldn’t concentrate on the way she was shaming herself right now or on the way she was giving herself to a male who probably wanted nothing else to do with her when this was over.

All she could feel was the thrust and push of Thorn’s thick shaft inside her quivering pussy, all she could hear was his labored breathing mixed with her own panting and the slapping of their flesh coming together. The musk of sex was in the air and his long fingers bit into her hips, adding another small pain to the overwhelming pleasure.

Neh’sa didn’t care—didn’t care about anything but the delicious sensation of him filling her, of his thick shaft opening her again and again. He seemed to be reaching for her heart with each long, deep thrust and all she could do was spread her thighs wider and take it as she tried to be open enough for him, open enough to take him all.

“Ahh…Goddess, Master,” she moaned aloud, unable to help herself. “Yes, take me—use me! Fuck me—make me yours!”

“You’re mine now, Neh’sa—mine,” Thorn’s voice was a deep, possessive growl. Leaning over her, he covered her entire small body with his much larger one until Neh’sa felt completely surrounded by him—held in a cage made of his muscular arms. Lapping and sucking the side of her throat, he waited until Neh’sa turned her head to the side, giving him complete access to her vulnerable neck… and then he bit her.

Neh’sa gasped as she felt the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of her shoulder, just where it met her throat. The extra stimulation was almost too much—she moaned helplessly, delirious with pain and pleasure and lust—loving the feeling of being helpless beneath the male she cared for so much. Beneath the male she…loved?

Do I love him? she wondered hazily. Is that what’s wrong with me? Does he love me? Or did he mark me to pay me back for branding him?

“That’s good—good,” the Krine growled greedily, interrupting her lust-hazed thinking. Hearing the lecherous note in his gravelly voice, Neh’sa thought dimly that Thorn was right—there was more than the need for vengeance motivating this little display.

“Very good,” the Krine told Thorn as the big Kindred finally released Neh’sa’s neck from his teeth. “Now fuck her harder—fuck her and fill her with your seed!”

Those words, spoken in the grating, harsh voice suddenly penetrated the haze of lust that was clouding Neh’sa’s brain.

Fill her with your seed? But he can’t do that! He hasn’t had the special medicine that will ensure any pregnancy will result only in a female child. Kindred mates almost always have male children. He could make me pregnant—pregnant with a boy! And then everyone back home would know what I have done!

“No!” she gasped, finding her voice at last. “No, Thorn—you can’t! Can’t come in me. You might make me pregnant!”

“I might,” he agreed, but he didn’t stop or slow the pace of his thrusting. “Might give you a big belly, Neh’sa, when I come in you.”

“When you come? No—no!” she gasped.

For the first time she tried to wiggle free but he had fastened her wrists and ankles to the corners of the table with the restraints very firmly—there was no getting loose.

“Hold still, Neh’sa,” he growled, leaning forward to talk in her ear. “I have to come inside you. I can’t explain it now but I fucking have to.”

“No,” she moaned again, thinking of the shame—the shame of going back to Yonnie Six with a male child filling her belly. A child everyone would know was the result of spreading her thighs and allowing a male to penetrate her.

But Thorn wouldn’t stop. His pace increased and his grip on her hips tightened. With every rough thrust, she felt his heavy sack slap up between her spread thighs, stimulating her swollen clit in an almost unbearably pleasurable way. Though she didn’t want to orgasm, she could feel herself getting close to the edge.

No, she told herself despairingly. No, I can’t come! That will only draw his seed in closer to my womb! I can’t have an orgasm—I can’t!

But her body didn’t appear to care about what she could and couldn’t do. As Thorn thrust deep inside her for the last time, the head of his shaft kissing the mouth of her womb, she felt her inner walls begin to spasm around him and a deep wave of pleasure washed over her.

“Oh!” she cried, squeezing her hands into fists as the blinding wave of sensation swamped her. “Oh Goddess, no, Thorn!”

“Yes,” he growled. “Yes.”

And despite her last, moaning cry, he pressed even more deeply into her and Neh’sa felt his long shaft swell inside her. Then heated spurts, jets of warm wetness, were coating her inner pussy, filling her so completely that she felt his come running in wet rivulets down her thighs.

Gods he was doing it—coming inside her—doing his best to plant his seed in her womb. What would she do if he succeeded?

How could she ever go back to her old life now?

Chapter Twenty-eight

Thorn hated himself for what he’d done, but there was no choice—and it wasn’t just because the Krine had commanded it. He had his own reasons for flooding her womb with his seed.

He just hoped his plan had worked.

“Neh’sa?” he sent, trying to communicate with her through what he hoped was a newly formed bond. “Neh’sa, can you hear me?”

“What?” She spoke aloud, sounding confused and also as though she might be crying. Damn it, Thorn hated to be the cause of her pain but his first priority had to be keeping both of them alive and getting out of there.

He pulled out of her and she moaned softly as he withdrew. Yes, she was definitely crying—Gods, he hated himself.

“Can you hear me?” he repeated patiently. “In your head? I’m trying to communicate non-verbally—so the Krine can’t hear us. Think back to me if you can.”

“I can hear you.” She sounded amazed and confused. “But how—”

“Never mind that now. First we have to get out of here.”

Thorn unbuckled the restraints that held her wrists and ankles to the four corners of the padded table. She tried to sit up but her arms and legs gave out and she ended up on her side—had he really been that rough with her?

A look at the ten finger-shaped bruises forming on her generous hips and the red, angry bite mark on her shoulder gave Thorn his answer.

Gods, I’m a shit.

“No—you’re a Dominant,” Neh’sa whispered in his head, surprising him. She could apparently overhear some of his thoughts. Thorn made a mental note to try and shield himself.

“Come on,” he said aloud and pulled her into his arms.

She struggled weakly.

“Put me down!”

Thorn frowned—he couldn’t blame her for wanting to be away from him.

“All right,” he said, setting her carefully on her feet. “But don’t get too far from me.”

“Just leave me alone.” She stepped away defiantly and he saw that there were, indeed, tears standing in her lovely dark eyes. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me—how you got into my head—but after what you just did, when I begged you not to—”

“I swear I’ll explain everything,” Thorn sent her urgently. “But we have to get out of here first. Don’t you want to go home?”

“Home?” she sent back furiously. “As if I could go back to Yonnie Six after this!”

“You can’t just—” Thorn began aloud but at that moment the huge figure of the Krine rose from his place in the shadowy alcove. He looked like a god of darkness emerging from the depths of the Seven Hells and his three eyes were watching them with unblinking intensity.

“Well done, Kindred warrior,” he growled in his deep, gravelly voice. “You nearly fucked the life out of the little Mistress.”

Thorn had to agree with the Krine’s assessment, although it made him hate himself to admit it. But he could hate himself later—right now he had to get himself and Neh’sa out of here.

“I have done my best to honor your wishes and exacted your vengeance, oh Krine,” he said, bowing his head in a formal gesture of respect. “Now I will take my female, as we agreed, and leave this place.”

“You will do no such thing,” the Krine rumbled. Moving much more quickly than any being so large should have been able to, one long gray arm snaked out and grasped Neh’sa by the shoulder. “For I find that I like seeing my justice enacted upon this Mistress.” All three of his eyes gleamed in the dim room. “I like it so much that I plan to keep her and allow various other warriors to punish her even more.”

“No!” Neh’sa struggled against his grip on her shoulder but the Krine only laughed and held on tighter.

Thorn felt the possessive Rage that all Kindred feel when their bonded mate is threatened begin to rise in him and with it, rose the fire.

This was exactly what he had been afraid of—that the Berroff ruler would renege on their deal. Still, he tried to keep his voice even and emotionless.

“That was not our agreement, oh Krine,” he said, glaring at the other male. “You agreed that if Neh’sa submitted and I dominated and penetrated her, she would be free to go.”

“I never said anything of the kind,” the Krine said. “I choose to keep the little female—you, however, are free to go. You will be escorted from the palace by my guards now.”

As he spoke two doors on opposite sides of the dungeon chamber opened and four of the huge, muscular Berroff guards entered the room.

Thorn saw Neh’sa’s eyes widen. He was attuned to her now—he could hear her heart, pounding as fast and light as though she was a small, trapped animal caught in a snare.

“Thorn?” she sent, speaking through their new bond. “Thorn, what are we going to do?”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” he sent back grimly. “Just submit and get ready to run when that big bastard loosens his hold on you even a little.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered but he had no time to explain. The Berroff guards were fingering their weapons eagerly. Doubtless the Krine had promised all of them a chance to “punish” Neh’sa. Just the thought of that made Thorn so angry he could feel the sparks in his eyes turning to flames again.

Instead of trying to suppress the fire inside him, he called on it, pulling it towards the surface. His eyes began to feel burning hot.

“Goddess,” Neh’sa whispered aloud. “Thorn, your eyes—the fire…I can see it!”

“You’re going to see a lot more of it before we’re through,” Thorn told her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart—we’re bonded now.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“I’ll explain later,” Thorn told her. “I need you to trust me on this, Neh’sa—there’s no more time.”

Indeed the guards were closing in, a hungry light in their dull gray eyes.

“Stay back,” Thorn warned them. “Or I’ll burn the lot of you.”

“And what of your little Mistress here?” the Krine growled, nodding at Neh’sa. “If you burn us, you burn her too, and I do not think you will do that. You seem to care for her, despite the way she used and branded you.”

“Yes, I care for her,” Thorn said evenly. “I care deeply.”

The Krine’s craggy face darkened like a thundercloud.

“You are under her control—under her spell. You claimed to want vengeance but you lied—you are no better than my son!”

“It sounds to me like your son was in love and you fucked it up for him because you couldn’t understand it,” Thorn growled. “I’m warning you all, don’t come a step closer or you’ll be sorry.”

“It is you who will be sorry,” the lead guard snarled. “You may have bested Judoth with your flame but you cannot best us all.”

“Watch me,” Thorn growled.

Taking a deep breath, he let the fire out, allowing it to envelope his entire body in a heated, blazing rush.

* * * * *

Neh’sa watched in disbelief as he went up like a torch—before the spread of the fire from his eyes to the rest of his body had been slow, controlled. This time the big Kindred let it go completely, allowing the flames to cover every inch of him in less than a second.

She winced instinctively back from the flames, aware that all around her the Krine and his guards were doing the same. Still, they held their ground and the Krine’s hand remained heavy on her shoulder—which happened to be the one Thorn had bitten. Gods, she ached everywhere but she was almost too frightened to know it.

He’s going to go and leave me here, she thought, watching as Thorn took a step towards the nearest door. It would be the ultimate payback for the way she’d forced him to submit.

“Hell no, I’m not going to leave you, sweetheart!” he sent suddenly through their strange new link. “You’re coming with me.”

“How? You’re on fire!”

“My flames can’t hurt you—we’re bonded, which means you’re a part of me now.”

Neh’sa wasn’t sure how to feel about that. And did he actually expect her to run into the fire to be with him?

Suddenly the Krine began to laugh—deep, trollish laughter that hurt her ears.

“You claim to care for this female and yet you burst into flames. You may go yourself but you cannot take her with you—not without burning her to a crisp.” He made a motion with one hand. “So go on—go, little warrior. Go and leave your Mistress here for us to punish.”

“You son of a bitch,” Thorn growled. “Get your hands off my female now!” Lifting a palm, he shot a fireball straight at the Krine’s broad chest.

The Berroff leader gave a low gasp and stumbled back, raising both hands to beat out the flames on his chest.

For a moment, Neh’sa was free.

Thorn looked at her, his eyes flaming. He held out his arms.

“Neh’sa—come now!” he shouted.

Goddess… Neh’sa looked at him, at the burning pillar of fire he had become. Could she really rush into the flames to be with him and not be hurt?

“Trust me,” he sent urgently through their link. “You won’t be burned, I swear it! Come to me now before they grab you again!”

The Krine had batted out the flames and recovered himself. He straightened up, blood suffusing his face, his three eyes filled with rage.

“How dare you attack the Krine?” he bellowed. “Now you will pay—both of you. This little female will be the first to feel my wrath!”

He reached for Neh’sa and she ducked out of the way just in time to avoid his huge, gray, grasping hand. She gave a panicked glance around the room. The Krine was behind her and his guards were surrounding them on three sides. Thorn was in front of her, blazing like a torch. She could feel the intense heat of his flames—it was like standing too near a furnace set to full blast.

Could she do it? Could she trust him?

What if he’s lying? What if he’s wrong and his flames can hurt me? What if—

“Neh’sa, now!” he roared, holding out his arms.

Taking a deep breath, Neh’sa took a literal leap of faith. As the Krine reached for her again she thought, Goddess help me! and launched herself into the big Kindred’s arms.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Neh’sa passed through the fire and Thorn caught her. She felt the flames close around her and for a moment she couldn’t breathe she was so afraid.

Then she realized that though she could feel the warmth of the burning inferno surrounding her, it wasn’t unbearable. Indeed, it wasn’t nearly as hot as it had felt from the outside as she stood and watched the big Kindred burn.

“Told you you’d be all right, sweetheart.” Thorn cradled her to his chest as he glared defiantly at the Krine and his guards. “It’s like I said—you’re part of me now and I’m part of you. My flames can’t hurt my bonded mate.”

Neh’sa wasn’t sure how she felt about being bonded to him but there was no time to discuss the matter. They still had to get away from the palace in one piece.

And from the look on the Krine’s face, that wasn’t going to be easy.

“What manner of witchcraft is this?” he bellowed. “Is the female a Pyro too? How can she burn yet not be consumed?”

“She is bonded to me now—I have claimed her,” Thorn growled. “No other male can touch her or they will burn—burn with the fire of a thousand suns. I will see to it personally.”

“My Krine,” one of the guards said uneasily. “What if he speaks the truth? See—the Yonnite female flames as much as he does himself. What if he had transferred some of his powers to her?”

“Powers be damned,” the Krine shouted in a voice like thunder. “Kill them! If I cannot have the Mistress, none can have her! My will is being disobeyed—kill them both for this blasphemy!”

The guard raised his blaster but Thorn lifted a hand and a stream of fire that looked white-hot, like the plasma center of a star, shot out. The moment it hit the blaster, the weapon was transformed into a dripping, glowing mass of melted metal.

“Ah! My hand—my hand!” the guard shrieked, shaking his hand frantically. Droplets of the molten metal flew out, hitting the other guards in the face and eyes, causing some of them to drop their weapons as well.

“Stay back, I said,” Thorn roared. “I’m leaving now and I’m taking Neh’sa with me!”

“Never!” The Krine himself was suddenly blocking their path. “No male comes to my planet and refutes my will! Both of you will die.” He grabbed a thick, spiked cane from the nearest rack and raised it over his head.

He never got a chance to swing. Thorn shot out a hand again and this time the stream of white-hot plasma was aimed directly at the Krine.

This was no warning fireball to be put out by a few quick slaps. The plasma coated the Krine, sticking to him like glowing jelly. In a split second, the ruler of Berroff Prime was a shrieking, flailing torch.

Thorn dodged out of the way, keeping himself and Neh’sa out of reach, as the other male spun around wildly, seeking in vain to put himself out.

The Krine blundered into some of the heavy red velvet drapes which covered the walls of the dungeon room. They caught at once, the flames racing around the circular room until the entire space was bathed in flames.

The guards were shouting and scattering, trying to get away. Their shouting brought others running but when they got to the door, they stopped short, their eyes open wide in disbelief as they saw what had become of the dungeon.

The Krine, still screaming, had gotten himself entangled with the agony cross. He fell with the heavy piece of equipment on top of him and writhed like a burning bug beneath it, his bellowing wails filling the air and echoing over the hungry sound of the flames. The air was thick with smoke and the stench of roasting flesh, making Neh’sa want to gag.

She didn’t want to see anymore. She wasn’t one to turn away from a crisis, but in this case, there was literally nothing she could do. She had to trust Thorn to get them through this, to get them out of this awful situation without getting killed.

He still held her tightly to him as he approached the knot of guards who had gathered to stare helplessly into the dungeon room.

“Stand back,” he growled, glaring at them. “Let us pass or I swear by the Goddess you’ll all burn. Stand back!”

His threat seemed to make a big impression—the guards scattered, running away as if the demons of the Seven Hells were after them. Which might not be far from the truth, Neh’sa though faintly.

Thorn carried her through the long, twisting stone corridors of the palace, occasionally threatening someone to let them pass. At last, just when Neh’sa had been certain their journey would never end, she heard Thorn murmur through the strange, mental link they somehow had.

“Its all right, sweetheart. We’re back to my ship. We’re safe now.”

She opened her eyes and saw he was telling the truth. They were standing in the docking area, a vast, U-shaped walkway of metal as big as a field but floating in the empty space between the two jagged peaks where the palace was located. Metal ramps connected various ships, which were docked around the silver metal U, to the surface of the floating platform.

Then she got another shock of fear.

Standing to their left, was the pirate crew who had kidnapped her and brought her here. Their leader—the one with the cybernetic patch—was looking at Thorn in awe.

“Brother,” he said at last, managing to recover his voice. “How…what happened in there?” He nodded at the palace behind them.

Looking over Thorn’s broad shoulder, Neh’sa saw the entire huge structure now had flames shooting from many of its windows. It might be made of stone but there were obviously plenty of flammable materials within.

“The same thing that’s going to happen to any male who tries to touch my female again,” Thorn growled, giving the captain a meaningful look. “The Krine and many of his guards are dead. I advise you to get the Seven Hells out of here before the rest of them mobilize and come looking for revenge.”

“But we didn’t even get paid!” one of the pirates complained.

The pirate with the eye-patch shook his head.

“Our pay this time is getting out with our lives. Come, lads—we’re leaving before this Pyro bastard decides to burn the whole fucking world down around us.”

Neh’sa didn’t understand how it wasn’t burning right now—specifically the metal platform they were standing on. She’d seen the way Thorn’s fire had melted the metal blaster in the guard’s hand—why wasn’t it melting through the U-shaped docking platform?

“Because I’m able to control how hot it is now—I was never able to do that before,” Thorn sent her and she realized he must have heard her thoughts through their strange new link. “And being able to control and direct my fire…I could never do that either. Not until we bonded.” He looked into her eyes as he carried her over to a ship which was presumably his. “You’ve changed me, Neh’sa.”

Neh’sa thought of the shameful way she’d submitted to him…and the way his seed might even now be taking root in her womb.

“You’ve changed me too, Thorn,” she said and couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of her voice. “I can’t go back home now—not until I know…” But she couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t say she wouldn’t be able to go home until she learned if she was pregnant or not and what the sex of the child might be if she was.

“I’m sorry.” They had reached the ship and his flame abruptly went out. He sat her on her feet as he reached to palm open the door-lock. “I didn’t plan to bond you to me. But there was no other way to extend my protection to you from my fire—no other way to get you out of there. And there was no way to bond you without filling you with my seed.”

Neh’sa looked away from his searching eyes.

“I’m grateful, of course. Grateful you came after me and rescued me. Though I still don’t know why you did it.”

“Don’t you?” he demanded. “Neh’sa, how could you think I would leave you to be taken by those bastards?”

“I don’t know—maybe the fact that you lied to me about your reasons for wanting to be my slave in the first place?” she shot back, feeling put on the defensive. She didn’t know who she was anymore—the cool, collected Mistress who had ruled her life for so long seemed to be gone. In her place was an uncertain woman, frightened of the future and shamed by her actions.

I begged him to take me—to dominate and use me, she thought, feeling a surge of humiliation rush through her. I offered myself in ways I never had before—not even with Heroth!

“Neh-sa—” Thorn began.

“Sscaners indicate a party is coming from the palace and they do not appear to be happy,” a low, hissing voice interrupted. “Logic dictatesss that the two of you should come aboard so that we can depart asss soon asss possible.”

“He’s right—come on.” Thorn led the way into the small space ship and Neh’sa saw the same Horvath who had declined to help her earlier sitting at the controls.

“What’s he doing here?” she asked, frowning.

“Flying the damn ship so we can get out of here. Go!” Thorn motioned at the lizard-like alien who licked one slitted eyeball with his forked tongue and gunned the engine of the little silver ship.

“Ssstrap down,” he advised them. “To evade pursuit I mussst use a wormhole that is lesss than stable. It isss apt to be a bumpy ride.”

Chapter Thirty

Thorn brought her back to the Mothership with him. He didn’t know where else to take her—what else to do. He told himself she could at least stay until it was time to take a pregnancy test, which would hopefully be negative, and then he could take her back to Yonnite Six.

The thought of that—of losing her—was almost more than he could bear. But he had bonded her to him unwillingly and he couldn’t keep her if she wanted to go—which she very plainly did.

Thorn couldn’t say that he blamed her. He hadn’t just had sex with her there in the dungeon on Berroff Prime—he had sexually savaged her. Neh’sa had the bruises and the bite mark to prove it.

Gods, why had he been so rough with her? Was it some lingering anger inside him at the way she’d made him submit?

Or maybe it was the way she made you want to submit, whispered a dark voice inside him.

Thorn didn’t know. He only knew he ached to take her in his arms and apologize—to make her understand how he felt, how much he loved her. He’d even thought it might be possible for her to love him back. She’d trusted him, after all—had leapt into his arms even when the fire completely covered his body. She had overcome her natural fear of being burned because he’d assured her she would be all right. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

Apparently not. The more he tried to reach out to Neh’sa, the more she withdrew from him. She wouldn’t even let him put healing salve on the bite mark he’d left on her. At last, he left her alone in the back of the small ship’s cabin and went to call Commander Sylvan on the viewscreen.

“There you are, Commander Thorn!” Sylvan greeted him heartily. “We got the information you sent—very good work!”

“I hope it helps,” Thorn growled. “You have no idea what I had to do to get it.”

Sylvan sobered immediately.

“I’m sorry, Brother,” he said, his voice going soft and serious. “I take it the price you paid to save us all was high.”

“Very fucking high.” Thorn sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, Commander Sylvan, I’m going to be bringing someone back with me to the Mothership—a Yonnite female.”

“Really?” Sylvan sounded surprised. “Is she some kind of a prisoner or…”

“It’s Mistress Neh’sanna—the female who bought me,” Thorn explained. “And she’s also now my bonded mate…although she doesn’t want to be.”

Sylvan frowned. “I assume there’s a story behind that. Do you want to talk about it?”

Thorn shook his head. “No. But I think it would be good to have some females come to greet us when we dock. Someone Neh’sa can feel safe with. And…” he cleared his throat, feeling shame well up within him. “And she needs some…medical attention. I wounded her when I bonded her to me.”

“I see,” Sylvan said quietly. “Well, I’ll bring my mate, Sophia and her sister, Olivia who is a nurse. Will that be sufficient?”

“I hope so.” Thorn sighed. “She just needs someone to talk to and she sure as the Seven Hells isn’t talking to me.”

“It will be all right, Brother,” Sylvan said. “The Goddess has her hand in this situation—you’ll see.”

“Thank you, I guess.” Thorn looked away from the viewscreen. He didn’t know what to think—what to say. Sylvan seemed to sense his mood because he wrapped up the call, promising to have the fold in space ready at the agreed upon time and place so Thorn could get back to the Mothership quickly.

Thorn thanked him again and as the viewscreen went blank, he thought of what Sylvan had said.

“The Goddess has her hand in this…” Could it be true?

But if so, how?

* * * * *

“Hi there, you must be Mistress Neh’sanna.” A woman with blonde hair and gray eyes greeted Neh’sa as she walked down the gangplank of the small silver ship which had docked inside the much larger Kindred Mothership. Beside her was a woman with a very similar face but dark brown hair and green eyes. And beside her was a girl with creamy brown skin and lovely amber colored eyes.

The third woman was holding a tray of…something. Some kind of food, Neh’sa thought and her stomach rumbled when the rich, sweet smell reached her nose. It reminded her that she hadn’t eaten anything in well over twenty-four hours at this point. She’d been too upset and frightened earlier to notice it but now she had to admit to herself she was really hungry.

“Hello,” she ventured, pulling Thorn’s spare shirt closer around herself. Beneath it she still wore the ragged remains of her once-lovely, black lace formal gown. Between the gown and the shirt she was completely covered but she still felt somehow naked and vulnerable in this new place with these strange people.

“I’m Olivia—Liv to my friends. And this is Sophie, my twin sister and Lauren, our cousin.” The woman with blonde hair indicated her companions. “We’re kind of an unofficial welcoming committee. So welcome to the Mothership.” She smiled.

“Um…thank you,” Neh’sa said uncertainly. “I just…” At that moment, Thorn walked down the gangplank to meet a tall Kindred male who had blond hair and pale blue eyes. As he passed Neh’sa, he said nothing, but gave her a long look.

For a moment she thought he would try to contact her through their newly forged link, but Thorn’s mental voice remained silent. There was just that look…and then he turned his back and began speaking to the blond male whom he referred to as, “Commander Sylvan.”

“Whew!” the girl with brown hair murmured, clearly catching the tension between Neh’sa and Thorn. “What’s the story there?”

“She might not want to say, Sophie,” Liv said, frowning. Then to Neh’sa she said, “Why don’t you come with us? We have a guest suite all lined up for you and some fresh clothes too.”

“Thank you,” Neh’sa said again. She was a little taken aback at their open generosity. The Mistresses on Yonnie Six mostly regarded each other with wary hostility—even friends could become enemies in a heartbeat if circumstances turned and the friendship was no longer convenient. “You’re…very kind,” she added.

“You look like you could use a little kindness, hon,” Liv said frankly. She smiled at Neh’sa, “Come on—your suite is this way.”

They led her down several twisting metal corridors to one of many doors. Liv had Neh’sa place her palm on the metal surface so it was keyed to her touch and told her no one else could open it without her permission.

“You’ll be safe in here,” she told Neh’sa, eyeing her shoulder.

Neh’sa realized the collar of Thorn’s shirt had slid open, revealing the place he’d bitten her. She couldn’t see it herself but it must look pretty bad from the expression on Liv’s pretty face.

“Thank you,” she said, pulling the collar closed quickly.

“Come on in and we’ll show you the amenities,” Lauren, the girl holding the small, sweet-smelling confections, said. “It takes a little time to get used to living on the Mothership.”

“I don’t expect to live here forever,” Neh’sa said quickly as they went inside the small but snug guest quarters. “Although…I’m not sure where I can go,” she added. “Especially if it turns out I’m…I’m…” Her voice faltered and the last word came out in a whisper. “Pregnant.”

“Oh, hon…” Liv put an arm around her shoulders and Neh’sa realized she was crying. What was happening to her, she wondered as the other woman led her to a plush sofa and seated her. She had somehow become a whole other person.

She was no longer the self-possessed Mistress who was used to having her every word obeyed, the female who kept her calm no matter what. Now she was a blubbering fool who couldn’t stop crying. She had to stop showing such weakness! Back home on Yonnie Six allowing oneself to become emotional in front of others was considered a sign of fragility and mental infirmity.

“I…I’m sorry,” she managed to say, swiping at her eyes as she struggled to get hold of herself. “It’s just, in the past twenty-four standard hours I’ve been betrayed by the one I thought I loved, kidnapped, forced to submit sexually for the pleasure of an angry male, and somehow bonded to the one who betrayed me in the first place. And…and I haven’t had anything to eat either,” she added, suddenly feeling sick and faint as her stomach twisted with hunger pangs.

“Oh my God, you poor thing! And here I am with a whole plate of cupcakes and I never even offered you one,” Lauren exclaimed. She pushed the plate with its sweet-smelling confections towards Neh’sa eagerly. “Here you go—please take one.”

“Take them all,” Sophie said, anxiously. “There’s nothing like a batch of Lauren’s delicious homemade cupcakes to make you feel better.”

“Especially if you have low blood sugar,” Liv added. “Which you probably do if you haven’t eaten in so long. Here—try the salted caramel,” she said since Neh’sa was hesitating, uncertain which of the small confections to try first. “It’s amazing and it should perk you right up.”

“None of them contain meat or the flesh of any animals, do they?” Neh’sa asked, picking up the small cake and sniffing it. It smelled delicious.

“Oh, are you a vegetarian or a Vegan?” Lauren asked anxiously. “None of them have meat but I’m afraid you can’t make my famous butter-cream frosting without butter.”

Neh’sa didn’t know what “butter” was but as soon as Lauren assured her there was no meat in the small cakes, she took a bite.

It was amazing—sweet and creamy and moist and there were little salt granules sprinkled over the frosting that crunched between her teeth as she chewed.

“Mmm!” she couldn’t help moaning, her eyes fluttering closed in culinary ecstasy. “Goddess above, this is amazing.”

“Have another one,” Lauren urged her and Neh’sa realized she had finished the first one already, even down to the strangely chewy wrapper around the bottom part of it, which was the only part she didn’t especially like.

“Um, you can take the cupcake paper off first,” Liv said tactfully, peeling it off a small pink cake and handing it to Neh’sa. “That part isn’t supposed to be, uh, edible. Try this one—it’s strawberries and cream supreme.”

The second small cake was just as good—better actually, without the wrapper which was apparently not meant to be eaten. Neh’sa finished it off and then tried a deep dark devil’s food fudge cupcake and after that a blueberry surprise which turned out to have sweet purple-blue jam in the center.

Finally, she began to feel more like herself again.

“Goddess,” she said, taking a sip from the glass of water that Liv offered her. “Thank you so much. I don’t think I realized how hungry I was.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry for my behavior earlier. I’m not normally so…emotional.”

“Completely understandable. Having all those stressful events you mentioned happen and then low blood sugar on top of it would mess with anyone’s emotions,” Liv said firmly. She raised an eyebrow at Neh’sa. “Speaking of which, Commander Thorn told Sylvan when he called that you needed some…medical attention. I’m a nurse—a medical professional,” she added, seeing Neh’sa’s wary look. “Will you let me look you over?”

“I…don’t know.” Neh’sa drew Thorn’s shirt tighter around herself. She suddenly felt embarrassed all over again. Of course, she was used to wearing revealing clothes in front of others—it was part of the Yonnite culture. But she couldn’t help wondering what these kind females would think of her if they knew all the things she’d let—no begged—Thorn to do to her.

“We can leave if you want, so you and Liv can have privacy,” Sophie offered.

She and Lauren started to get up but Neh’sa held out a hand to stop them.

“No, stay,” she said, uncertain of why she was saying it. Maybe it was just that they were the first kind faces she’d seen in what felt like forever. She considered herself to be a fairly good judge of people—or she had before she’d let Thorn fool her—and she thought they seemed kind and understanding.

“We’ll be happy to stay, Mistress Neh’sanna.” Sophie smiled at her warmly and she and Lauren settled back down on the couch.

“Neh’sa—please call me Neh’sa,” Neh’sa said. She didn’t usually extend that invitation to any but friends but though she had known these women such a short time, they already felt that way to her.

“Neh’sa, then. Would you please remove the shirt?” Liv asked gently. “I think I need to look at that shoulder.”

Neh’sa let Thorn’s spare shirt pool around her waist in a puddle of red fabric. The torn lace gown still covered much of her breasts but her panties were gone so she made certain to cover herself there while Liv looked at the bite mark on her shoulder.

“Did Commander Thorn do this?” she asked, frowning as she began to disinfect the bite with some kind of liquid that bubbled and fizzed when it touched the broken skin.

“Yes,” Neh’sa said in a low voice. “When he…when he took me.”

“Was that against your will, honey?” Liv asked in a low, firm voice. “Because I have a rape kit in my bag.” She nodded at the large black bag she’d been carrying over one arm which appeared to hold all her medical supplies.

“No,” Neh’sa said quickly. “No, it…wasn’t like that. I…” She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “I wanted him to take me,” she admitted at last. “Wanted him to penetrate me.”

“That’s a big no-no where you’re from, isn’t it?” Sophia sounded sympathetic. “I mean, on Yonnie Six? We’ve never been there but we’ve heard about it—how women don’t let men, uh, penetrate them. Is that right?”

“That’s correct.” Neh’sa looked down at her hands. “I am usually quite dominant—I am a Mistress which means I do the penetrating. But we were put into a situation where Thorn…had no choice.”

“Well he didn’t have to be so rough about it.” Liv sounded disapproving as she carefully smeared some medicinal smelling salve on the bite mark.

“Maybe he did, though.” Sophie sounded thoughtful. “I mean, what kind of Kindred is he, anyway? I didn’t see any fangs but is he a Blood Kindred?”

Neh’sa shrugged and winced when the gesture hurt her wounded shoulder.

“He has some Blood Kindred ancestry and also some Beast Kindred blood as well. But he’s also half Enfuego.”

“Oh—a hybrid,” Lauren exclaimed. “I wondered about those eyes of his when I saw him.”

“Maybe it was the Blood Kindred part of him that made him want to bite you when he bonded you to him,” Sophie said. “That’s typical for them—they can’t bond without biting. I should know—my husband Sylvan is Blood Kindred.”

“I don’t know if it was his heritage that made him bite me,” Neh’sa said in a low voice. “I think it’s more likely he was asserting his dominance over me.”

“Dominance?” Lauren frowned. “You said Commander Thorn is part Blood Kindred, part Beast Kindred, and part something else…Enfuego, right?”

Neh’sa nodded. “Yes.”

“Well are the Enfuego people anything like the Scourge? In their, uh, sexual appetites I mean.” Lauren coughed. “What I’m trying to say is, are they into BDSM?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Neh’sa said, shaking her head.

“Bondage and domination or discipline and sado-masochism, right?” Sophie asked, frowning.

Lauren nodded. “I’m just asking because, well, my husband Xairn is Scourge and they’re heavily into that. I mean…” She cleared her throat. “I guess I should say we’re into it. I mean, playing those kinds of games in the bedroom, you know?”

Neh’sa was interested.

“‘Those kinds of games,’ as you put it, are part of the culture of my planet. We Mistresses dominate our male body-slaves but we do not allow them to dominate us in turn. Well…” She could feel her cheeks getting hot. “We’re not supposed to, anyway.”

“But you let Thorn dominate you?” Liv asked quietly.

“I did, yes.” Neh’sa twisted her hands in the red fabric of the shirt in her lap. “It is…a great shame among my people. And I don’t know if…if Thorn can ever respect me again.”

“But you dominated him too, right?” Sophie asked candidly.

“Of course I did—but that is the normal way of my people—the female is dominant,” Neh’sa explained. “Though I know the…playing of such games, is not considered ‘normal’ in many cultures.”

“It is for us because my husband, Xairn, is Scourge,” Lauren said. “But in our case, he’s the Dom.” The corner of her mouth twitched up in a smile. “Not that I mind—it’s pretty amazing and intense, you know?”

“I…I found it to be intense as well…being dominated,” Neh’sa murmured, feeling her cheeks get hot again as she remembered the deeply possessive way Thorn had taken her.

“So why wouldn’t Thorn respect you just because you guys, uh, switched it up for a change?” Liv asked. “Honestly, he’s probably wondering the same thing about you—if you’ll respect him after you dominated him. I know it seems weird considering the culture you come from, but in our world, it’s often the men who do the dominating and a lot of them would feel, uh, emasculated if they let a woman take control sexually. You did say you dominated him, right?”

Neh’sa nodded. “Quite thoroughly. On several occasions. But now…” She sighed. “Now I feel like he probably didn’t really want to be dominated. Most Mistresses don’t care about the willingness of their slaves but I do—I only take slaves who wish to serve a Mistress.”

“I can see how you would wonder about that,” Sophie remarked. “I mean, Sylvan told me a little about Thorn’s mission—he was supposed to go to Yonnie Six and pose as a slave and do anything he had to do in order to get the information he needed. Including submit to the Mistress who bought him.”

“That’s another problem.” Neh’sa squeezed her hands into fists. “He lied to me. He told me he wanted to be my slave—that my touch stirred him as no other female’s ever had. And then…” She sighed. “And then I found out the truth. He never wanted to be with me—never truly cared for me. He only wanted to get information from the Library of All Knowledge which the Mistresses of Yonnie Six curate and protect.”

Liv nodded sympathetically.

“Lying is hard to get over. I don’t know if it’s any consolation to you, but Thorn was actually acting very bravely. I think he thought he was going into a kind of torture situation and he was doing it in order to get information on how to stop the Hive.”

Neh’sa frowned. “The what?”

“The Hive. They’re this race of giant, sentient insect-like creatures and they’re awful. They use humanoid-type women as gestational vessels for their grubs.” Sophie shivered. “We’re trying to keep them from taking over Earth and basically our entire solar system.”

Neh’sa frowned. “I didn’t know that was what he was after. Why didn’t he just ask me?”

“Well…we were pretty sure that Yonnie Six wouldn’t want anything to do with a society where males and females are equal,” Liv explained. “We’ve sent people to your planet before, you know. And, well…present company excluded but most Yonnite Mistresses aren’t exactly very friendly.”

“We can be a contentious bunch,” Neh’sa agreed with a sigh. “But I wish Thorn would have trusted me enough to tell me what he needed instead of pretending to be something he was not.”

And pretending to want something sexually he didn’t really want, she mentally added. Not to mention pretending to care for me.

“But I do care for you, Neh’sa—I care for you deeply!” The mental voice in her head startled her so much she dropped the remains of the blueberry surprise cupcake on the floor.

“Neh’sa, are you okay?” Lauren looked at her anxiously.

“I know that look—someone is bespeaking her,” Sophie said. “Is it Thorn?”

Neh’sa nodded. “It’s still so strange to hear him in my head. He says…he says he cares for me.” She could scarcely get the words out—her throat had gotten tight with emotion.

“And how do you feel about him?” Liv asked gently.

“I…I don’t know. I felt betrayed when I found out he was pretending to be my body-slave under false pretenses. But now…” Neh’sa shook her head. “I just don’t know.”

“Just let me come and speak to you,” Thorn begged softly, through their link. “Let me try to explain.”

“Let me think about it,” Neh’sa sent back. Aloud she said, “He wants to come speak with me.”

“And do you want to speak with him?” Liv pressed a soft white bandage over the bite-mark on her shoulder and taped it in place. “Do you feel comfortable being alone with him? Do you want one of us to stay with you?”

Neh’sa realized the other woman still thought that Thorn was abusive.

“I feel perfectly safe with him—really I do,” she told her new friends earnestly. “I just…need some time alone to think.” She grimaced. “And I’d like to get cleaned up and changed into fresh clothing too.”

“Tell him that, then,” Lauren urged her. “Tell him you need a little time for yourself.”

“I will.” Neh’sa closed her eyes. “Give me a day to recover myself, Thorn. I need some time to consider matters before we meet again.”

“I understand.” She could feel his impatience but there was respect in his tone. “May I come to you tomorrow evening, Mistress?”

“Don’t call me that if you don’t mean it!” Neh’sa snapped.

“I meant everything I said including that I care for you,” Thorn responded quietly. “But I’ll leave you alone until tomorrow night if that’s what you want.”

“Yes. Give me some time,” Neh’sa told him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mistress.”

And then he was gone and she found herself alone in her own head again.

“Well?” Sophie’s eyes were shining with anticipation.

Neh’sa sighed. “I agreed to meet with him tomorrow night and hear what he has to say.”

“Good.” Liv nodded decisively. “You’ll feel more clear-headed about things once you have some time to yourself to relax and unwind.”

“I recommend taking a nice long swim in the bathing pool,” Sophie said. There’s a clean, soft robe in the fresher and I’ll send you some new clothes to wear—unless you feel like going shopping?”

Neh’sa shook her head.

“I’m certain I’ll be happy to wear anything you send me, Sophie.”

“Well, I think red is your color.” Sophie smiled. “I’ll be sure to send you several things to choose from.”

“And I’ll send you some meals,” Lauren promised. She laughed. “Something a little more filling and nutritious than cupcakes. And don’t worry—I’ll be sure it’s all vegetarian.”

“You’re all so kind to me.” Neh’sa looked at them in wonder. “On my planet, females are always fighting for position and trying to best each other. No one remains friends for long. I hope…hope it’s not like that here aboard the Mothership.”

“Never,” Liv said firmly. “We’re friends for life here—living on the Mothership is about sisterhood and solidarity. We’re like one big happy family.”

“A happy family,” Neh’sa murmured, thinking of how long it had been since she’d had such a thing. “That would be…nice.”

“It’s wonderful,” Sophie said, smiling. “We actually have a whole group of women who are friends up here. We’d love to introduce you…if you stay.”

“Well, I guess that will depend.” Neh’sa bit her lip. “How long…how long does it take for a Kindred pregnancy to show?” she asked.

“You mean if a Kindred is the father?” Liv asked. “Not too long after you, uh, have the encounter, actually. Maybe a day or two.”

“Then…I may be contacting you soon and asking to take a test. You do have such things here on board?” Neh’sa asked.

“What, a pregnancy test? Oh yes.” Liv nodded. “The Kindred pregnancy test is actually really adorable because you put in your blood sample and then you get a flower that tells you what’s going on.”

“A white flower means not pregnant,” Lauren said. “A pink flower means a girl and a blue flower means a boy.”

“But watch out if you get a blue and a pink flower,” Sophie added, laughing. “Because that means twins and let me tell you, mine keep me hopping!”

“So…have you all had children with Kindred males?” Neh’sa said.

“Well, Kindred and Scourge,” Lauren amended. “But my guy has some Kindred DNA too. So, yeah, we have.”

“What…what are they like?” Neh’sa asked.

“Excellent fathers,” Liv said decisively and the other two women nodded.

“The best,” Sophie said. “Very patient with the kids—sometimes I think Sylvan is a better mom than I am!”

“It sounds…nice. I was raised by my mother but I do remember my father a bit,” Neh’sa murmured. “He died when I was very young, before we moved to Yonnie Six.” It had been one reason her mother had decided to move them when she inherited a place as a Mistress in Opulex.

“You could do a lot worse than to have kids with a Kindred,” Liv told her, pressing her hand. “They’re certainly better than human men.”

The other two girls nodded in agreement.

“When I think of some of the jerks I dated back on Earth…” Lauren shook her head.

“I’m sure…” Neh’sa began but her words ended in a yawn. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said to her new friends. “I’m just…suddenly exhausted.”

“After the day you’ve had, no wonder.” Sophie smiled at her understandingly. “Is there anything else we can do for you before we go?”

“No…no thank you.” Neh’sa yawned again. “Oh, excuse me.”

“No excuse necessary, hon,” Liv told her. “Come on, girls—let’s let her get some rest.”

“We’ll send everything we promised over to you,” Sophie told her. “But don’t feel like you have to wait up for it. There’s a one-way delivery slot at the foot of the door. People can leave packages for you that way and you can get them whenever you want.”

“Thank you—all of you—for everything.” Neh’sa looked at them gratefully. “I can’t tell you how much better it made me feel to…unburden myself to you.”

“Girl talk always helps,” Sophie said, smiling.

“And we’re available for more of it anytime you want,” Liv promised. She leaned over and gave Neh’sa a spontaneous hug. “You know, I think you’ll like it here if you give it a chance. I hope you decide to stay.”

“Well…thank you.” Neh’sa, who was unused to such displays of friendly affection, found she liked the gesture. Tentatively, she hugged Liv back.

“I hope so too,” Sophie reached around to hug her and then Lauren did as well.

“I’ll send you more cupcakes along with the other food,” she murmured in Neh’sa’s ear. “I notice you seem to like them.”

“They’re pretty much the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Neh’sa admitted with a laugh which surprised even her. “We have nothing like them on Yonnie Six.”

“You have to tell us more about your home planet when you get a chance,” Liv said as they all got up to go. “I mean, we’ve heard stories but never from an actual Mistress who lives there. You must lead a fascinating life.”

Neh’sa thought of her life—which mostly consisted of training slaves, attending social functions where most of the other Mistresses might be out to discredit or hurt her, and working long hours in her Mercy clinic out of guilt for the lifestyle she led and sorrow for her loss of Heroth.

“I don’t know about fascinating,” she said at last. “But it was…satisfying. In some ways, at least. Though often frustrating and saddening as well.” She put a hand to her mouth just in time to catch another yawn.

“We’d better let you go. We can talk about it another time,” Liv said. “Come on girls—Baird is going to be wondering where I got to.”

“I have to go pick up the twins and meet Sylvan for supper,” Sophie said. “What about you, Lauren?”

“I’ve already got something going in the taste-cooker,” Lauren replied. “But Xairn usually waits for me to get home before he’ll eat.”

Neh’sa thought their domestic situations sounded perfect if somewhat strange. She was used to having droids and servants do much of her domestic duties although she had learned by her mother’s side to do them herself when she was a girl. She tried to imagine herself working and cooking and raising children on the Mothership with Thorn at her side, not as a body-slave but as an equal, a partner…

The idea was surprisingly easy to imagine but Neh’sa doubted that it could ever become a reality. There were still lingering doubts in her mind…worries and sorrows that could not be easily overcome.

I need to rest—need some time to myself, she thought as she waved to her three new friends and watched them leave.

But would time to herself help her decide if she could believe Thorn’s claim that he cared for her?

After his betrayal and everything she had been through, Neh’sa just didn’t know.

* * * * *

Though he tried not to eavesdrop, Thorn could feel her wondering, through their new bond, whether she could ever trust him again. Whether she could forgive him and believe that he cared for her.

Can you blame her for being doubtful? whispered a little voice in his head. You misrepresented yourself to her—lied to her for so long. And what was the one thing she said she couldn’t tolerate when she first bought you at that auction?

“Dishonesty,” he said aloud, staring into the empty darkness of his private quarters. He’d hoped to bring Neh’sa here—instead she was installed in one of the single guest suites across the ship. Not that he blamed her for wanting time away from him. After the way he’d treated her during their bonding…

He closed his eyes, hating himself, wishing he could have done things differently—that he could have told her the truth.

The secret wasn’t mine to tell, he argued with himself. I couldn’t jeopardize my mission and the possible fate of my entire race for love.

It was true but all the same he felt uncomfortable. He could hear Neh’sa wondering if anything he’d told her was the truth—if he hated her for what she’d done to him…

Wait a minute.

Thorn had been lying on the sleeping platform but now he sat up, frowning. Did Neh’sa really think he hated her for the way she’d dominated him? Did she think he’d faked all his emotions, that he didn’t want that kind of relationship—the kind she craved?

Well, how did he feel about it? Thorn asked himself honestly. He’d gone into his mission on Yonnie Six expecting it to be torture to give himself sexually over to a dominant woman. Instead he’d found…love. He didn’t want to be dominated all the time but then, he didn’t think that Neh’sa wanted to dominate all the time. What if they just…took turns?

And what if she turns you down flat and doesn’t want anything to do with you ever again? whispered a pessimistic little voice in his head. You couldn’t blame her if she did.

No, but he was hoping she wouldn’t. He had to give her a reason to see that he loved her—a reason to trust him again, Thorn thought.

Suddenly, he had an idea. Would he be able to find the equipment he needed on board the Mothership? And more importantly, would the idea work if he did find the necessary gear to accomplish it?

Thorn didn’t know. He only knew he had to try—it might be his last chance to win Neh’sa’s heart. And he was willing to do anything to make that happen.

Anything at all.

Chapter Thirty-one

“Mistress, I beg you to take me.”

Neh’sa looked down in surprise as Thorn knelt suddenly at her feet.

She’d slept late and spent the day in quiet reflection, mostly soaking in the bathing pool. It was beautifully warm and the water seemed to have some kind of conditioner in it that made her skin and hair extra soft. When she finally stepped out of it and went to look at the clothing Sophie had sent her, she’d felt entirely relaxed.

Maybe that was why she’d chosen to wear the soft red gown with thin straps that clung to her breasts and flared out around her full hips instead of any of the other, more modest clothing. There were red silk panties to match and even a pair of black high-heeled slippers to go with it.

When she’d put the outfit on, Neh’sa had been thinking it was the closest thing in the pile of clothing to what she usually wore on Yonnie Six. Now she wasn’t certain it was such a good idea.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, looking down at the big Kindred still kneeling at her feet.

“You told me once you wouldn’t take me—wouldn’t fuck me—unless I begged you to.” He looked up at her. “I’m begging you now, Mistress. I want to serve you in every way. Look.” He held out a red bag with a pink and purple logo on the side that looked like a pair of pursed lips. “I went today to get the necessary equipment.”

“What?” Uncertainly, Neh’sa took the bag from him and looked into it. Inside was a thick black leather phallus and a harness to strap it on with. The equipment reminded her of her own gear back home—although it wasn’t of the same quality since hers had been handmade specifically for her by a master craftswoman.

“Put it on. Wear it.” Thorn’s mismatched eyes were blazing with intensity. “Use it on me. Take me—fuck me. Dominate me the way I dominated you in the dungeon of the Krine.”

“Why? So we can be even? No!” Neh’sa threw the bag onto the couch where the contents flew out and lay on the cushions looking obscene. “I won’t take you that way, Thorn—not ever,” she said, frowning. “Not now that I know you don’t want that kind of treatment—that you never wanted it.”

“You’re wrong.” He rose to his feet, frowning. “I didn’t think I wanted that—didn’t think I wanted to be dominated. But you…you taught me differently, Mistress.”

“Stop calling me that,” Neh’sa said angrily. “I’m not your Mistress!”

“But you can be, if only you’re willing. Neh’sa, please…” Thorn captured her hands in his and looked at her earnestly. “Please, I don’t want you to go. I…I love you.”

Neh’sa sucked in a breath. He’d said he cared for her before—cared deeply. But this was the first time the big Kindred had said he loved her.

“Do you?” she asked, searching his eyes with hers. “Do you truly love me, Thorn?”

“More than my own life.” His deep voice was hoarse with emotion. “I’ll swear it by the Goddess if an oath is necessary to satisfy you of my sincerity.”

“I love you, too,” Neh’sa admitted, unable to hold back the words. “But I thought…thought what you felt for me might all be an act.”

“Because I had to lie to you on Yonnie Six.” He sighed in apparent frustration and ran a hand through his hair. “I hated like hell to do that, Neh’sa, but the secret wasn’t mine to tell. And I had to get that information. Even now my people are preparing for an attack from the Hive.”

“I understand your people are in danger,” Neh’sa told him. “But I promise you, if you’d told me everything on Yonnie Six I would have helped.” She frowned. “You wouldn’t have had to force me to cooperate the way you did with Lady Wraith’neck.”

“I should have trusted you,” Thorn admitted. “But Neh’sa, I’ve been in the Espionage Corps for a long time—most of my adult life—and I’ve never compromised a mission.”

“Not even under torture, right?” she asked dryly.

“Not even under torture,” he agreed. His voice softened. “What I told you that night you used the wand on me was true. I’d never been broken, no matter what the bastards who caught me did to me. But you…you broke me with love.” He cupped her cheek in his hand and Neh’sa felt her heart flutter. “You made me want what you did to me, Mistress. I still want it—still want you.”

“I want you too, but…” Neh’sa looked at him uncertainly. “But I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.” She walked across to the couch and picked up the thick, black leather phallus and harness he’d brought for her to wear. “This tells me you don’t know.”

“What?” Thorn frowned. “Why not?”

“It’s huge for one thing,” Neh’sa said, frowning. “Much bigger than the silver wand I used on you last time. I would never force you to take something so large unless you’d trained for it and I thought you were ready for it.”

“Well…” He shifted uncomfortably. “It was the biggest one they had. I thought…”

“You thought you would like having this thing shoved inside you?” Neh’sa demanded, shaking it at him before she tossed it away.

He scowled. “Well, no. But I thought you might enjoy putting it there.”

“How could I enjoy hurting you like that—forcing you to take something you’re not ready for?” Neh’sa raised an eyebrow at him. “Admit it, Thorn—you picked this out as a kind of self-punishment. You thought I’d feel better if I fucked you the way you fucked me in the Krine’s dungeon.”

“I’m trying to make up for what I did to you—the way I bit you and penetrated you so roughly,” he growled. “Not to mention bonding you to me against your will.” He shook his head, eyeing her shoulder where the bandage covering the bite mark was clearly visible under the thin straps of the red dress. “You have the healing power, Neh’sa—I don’t understand why you didn’t just heal yourself of the bite.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to,” Neh’sa said softly. “Maybe I wanted to wear your mark.”

“The way I wanted to wear your brand,” he said roughly. Then he shook his head in frustration.

“Look, this is all beside the point. I’m offering to let you penetrate me—offering to submit to you completely. Isn’t that what you want?”

Neh’sa shook her head.

“No,” she said quietly. “At least…not all the time.”

“Then make me understand.” Thorn took her hand and drew her over to the couch. “Tell me what you want and I swear by all the Gods I’ll do my damndest to give it to you, Mistress.”

Neh’sa bit her lip.

“To start with, I don’t always want to be the Mistress,” she murmured. “There was… a game that Heroth, my first body-slave and I, used to play.”

“The one you loved so much.” Thorn nodded. “What kind of a game?”

“We called it…’switch’,” Neh’sa said. She took a deep breath—she’d never admitted this to anyone before. But she had to clear the air with Thorn before they could move forward. “It was when…he played the Master and I was the submissive for a while. We didn’t always play it—probably only half the time we made love. But…I enjoyed it.” She shrugged. “It’s shameful to admit, but I did.”

“What’s wrong with switching it up sometimes?” Thorn asked reasonably. “That’s exactly what I was thinking last night when I was wondering how to bring you back to me. Why can’t we take turns being in charge?”

“So…you like that too?” Neh’sa asked uncertainly. “Because sometimes people from different cultures think that what we Yonnites do is…disgusting or wrong.”

“You mean dominance games?” Thorn grinned at her wolfishly. “I love it, sweetheart. Never thought I would, but you seem to have woken up a part of me I didn’t know I had. I love submitting to you…” He stroked her cheek. “And I love dominating you too.”

“You…you do?” Neh’sa could hardly believe it but she could feel the sincerity coming from him through their bond.

“Hell yes, sweetheart. Just wish I hadn’t been so rough last time.” He frowned and stroked a finger over the white bandage that still covered the bite mark on her shoulder. “I’m sorry about this—more sorry than I can say.”

“I forgive you for marking me, so you should also forgive yourself,” Neh’sa murmured. “Sometimes pleasure comes mixed with pain—that’s one of the principles of the way we Yonnites make love.”

“It won’t happen again,” Thorn swore. “I mean…” He frowned. “Unless you… want it to?”

“I might,” Neh’sa said lightly. “There are many things I might want…slave.”

The golden sparks began to dance in his mismatched eyes and his voice dropped to a low, lustful growl.

“Tell me what you want, Mistress. I am yours to command.”

“You can start by kissing my panties.” Neh’sa settled herself more comfortably on the couch and pushed the phallus and its harness to one side. They would definitely not be using it tonight. But there were other ways to have fun. And now that she knew Thorn felt the same way she did and was willing to switch roles back and forth, she was in the mood to play a bit.

“I’m glad because I’m in the mood too, Mistress,” Thorn growled through their link. “Always in the mood for you.”

He was already on the floor between her spread legs and now he lifted the hem of the red silky gown to reveal the little scarlet triangle of her panties.

“Mmm…then what are you waiting for?” Neh’sa purred. “Kiss me, Thorn.”

“With pleasure, Mistress.”

He leaned forward, his broad shoulders splitting her thighs wide. But instead of kissing her panties, he rubbed his rough cheek against them, growling with desire, and then inhaled deeply.

“Gods your scent drives me fucking crazy.” He looked up at her, his eyes filled with heat. “The way you teased me when you were training me…are you going to keep doing that?”

Neh’sa gave him a slow smile.

“Who said your training was finished, slave? I have more to teach you—much more.”

“I was hoping you’d say that, Mistress.” Leaning in, he placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss over the thin silk of her panties. “Mmm, I can tell you’re already getting wet and hot for me. I can smell your heat. Fucking delicious.”

“A good body-slave is always attuned to his Mistress’s body and her needs,” Neh’sa lectured rather breathlessly. She shifted her hips, spreading her legs a little wider. “Right now I need to come.”

“And I want to feel you coming—all over my face.” With a low, animal noise in the back of his throat, Thorn tangled his long fingers in the thin strings at the sides of her panties and ripped them off her, leaving her pussy completely exposed.

“Thorn!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Those were a new pair of panties you just ruined.”

“I’m sorry, Mistress.” His eyes were molten with lust. “You can punish me later. Right now I just want to taste your sweet pussy.”

“All right, I’ll defer punishment so you can get back to making me come.” Neh’sa beckoned to him. “I’m right here, Thorn—what are you waiting for? Taste my pussy.”

“Gods! Love it when you talk like that—love it when you order me to pleasure you, Mistress.”

He lowered his head eagerly and would have plundered her pussy with his tongue but Neh’sa tangled a hand in his thick hair and held him back.

“Slowly,” she ordered in her best stern Mistress voice. “Gently. I only want you to lick along my slit—just trace it very lightly with the tip of your tongue.”

“Gods…yes, Mistress,” Thorn groaned.

From the thick bulge in the crotch of his black flight leathers, Neh’sa could tell her orders were making him almost desperate with need. For that matter, she was feeling extremely needy herself, especially as she watched just the tip of his tongue trace delicately along the open slit of her pussy. Her clit was throbbing for attention and when his tongue dragged lightly over it, she jumped and moaned. Goddess, she wanted him!

But on her own terms. She decided to continue the game.

“That’s good, Thorn—very good,” she murmured, running a gentle hand through his hair. Reaching down, she parted her pussy with two fingers, spreading it wide to show her slippery, pink inner folds. “Now, do you see my clit?”

“Gods, yes Mistress—I see it.” His voice was hoarse with lust. “I want to kiss it—want to suck it until you moan.”

“In a moment. First I want you to trace it with your tongue, like you did my slit. Just very lightly around and around and…”

Her words died off into a moan because the big Kindred had leaned forward eagerly and was already doing as she had commanded, gently tracing her throbbing button over and over with his tongue.

Neh’sa moaned as the gentle strokes of his tongue pushed her pleasure higher. Already she could feel her pussy getting wetter and wetter with need—soon she was going to overflow.

Well, not if Thorn did his job right.

“Thorn,” she ordered, cupping his rough cheek in her palm. “You’re doing a good job—so good my juices are going to get all over this couch if you don’t lick them up.”

“Gods, Mistress,” he groaned. “I love to taste your honey straight from the source. Do you want me to put my tongue deep in your pussy to lap up your juices?”

Neh’sa gave him a lazy smile.

“That was my idea exactly. Yes, slave—you may.”

And then she was moaning because the word “yes” was barely out of her mouth before the big Kindred had his head between her legs with his tongue buried deep in her creamy pussy.

He moaned low in his throat as he licked her out, tasting her to the fullest while Neh’sa gasped and tangled her fingers in his hair, urging him on. Somehow the broad pad of one long finger found her sensitive clit and Thorn resumed the circling motion he’d been doing earlier with his tongue.

Oh Goddess! Neh’sa thought deliriously. It’s too much…too good! I can’t hold out much longer.

”Good,” she heard Thorn send through their link. “Because I can’t wait to feel you come in my mouth, Mistress. Come for me now while I tongue-fuck your sweet pussy.”

His hot, dirty words and the feeling of his tongue and fingers stroking her simultaneously was too much. Suddenly Neh’sa felt a wave of pleasure rolling over her and her hips bucked up as her inner muscles squeezed tightly around his invading tongue.

“Thorn!” she wailed, putting on a very un-Mistress-like display—not that she cared. “Oh Goddess, Thorn—that’s amazing.

“That’s right—come for me, sweetheart,” he growled in her head. “Love to feel you coming so hard on my tongue…”

Neh’sa moaned and bucked against him but she knew they were only getting started… They had a lot of catching up to do, now that she knew for certain Thorn honestly wanted to make love the way she needed to.

* * * * *

Thorn lost count of the times he made her come that night. She rode his face shamelessly and he loved it—loved her cool, commanding Mistress tone and the way she ordered him to do certain things to her…delicious, forbidden things.

After she got as much as she wanted of his tongue, she sat him on one of the high-backed chairs in the food-prep area, tied his hands behind his back, and pulled down his flight leathers to let his straining cock spring free. By the time she straddled him, he felt nearly ready to explode.

“Now don’t move, slave,” she ordered, her voice sounding breathless with need. “You’re not to so much as twitch while I take your shaft inside me.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he growled but he couldn’t help the groan that rose in his throat as she eased down onto him, taking his cock deep into her willing pussy while he tensed in frustration, unable to do anything but watch.

“That’s good, Thorn,” she gasped. “Gods, you’re huge! So good to hold still while I take you.”

“Is this what you like, Mistress?” he growled as she lowered herself slowly onto him. “You like the feel of me penetrating you? Filling you with my cock?”

“I love it,” Neh’sa admitted. Bracing herself on his shoulders, she eased down the final few inches until he was buried to the root in her tight, wet pussy. “Goddess, I love it so much.”

“Then show me how much, sweetheart.” Leaning down, he took her mouth in a hot kiss, sharing her own secret flavor with her. “Show me how much you love having my shaft buried inside you. Fuck yourself on me—fuck your hot little pussy on my cock.”

“Goddess, Thorn—I love it when you talk like that,” she moaned, lifting herself so that a few thick inches slid out of her tight, wet sheath and then lowering herself back down. “Love it so much.”

“I love the way you moan,” Thorn told her as she continued to move up and down on him, rolling her hips to take him as deep as possible while he forced himself to hold still. “Love to hear those soft, helpless little sounds you make when you come, Mistress.”

Neh’sa looked into his eyes.

“I want you to move now, Thorn—move with me, thrust in me.”

He’d been holding himself rigidly still, trying to be obedient to her order not to move but now he was glad to obey.

“Yes, Mistress,” he growled, rolling his hips upward to thrust deep into her pussy. Neh’sa was so much smaller than he was that her entire body was lifted by the thrust. She moaned and held onto his shoulders, gripping tight as he filled her again and again, giving her what she needed—what they both needed so badly.

“Thorn,” she gasped after an unknowable length of time. “Thorn, I’m about to come again. And I want you…want you to come with me.”

“How do you mean?” He frowned, still working his hips. “Want me to pull out and come on your belly?” Which might be somewhat difficult considering the fact that his entire length was entirely buried in her wet, sucking pussy and it felt like she was milking him with her inner muscles.

But Neh’sa was shaking her head.

“No,” she moaned. “Want you to come with me…in me. I want to feel you shoot your seed inside me again, Thorn. The way you did when you bonded me to you.”

“You sure about that?” he groaned. “If you’re not already, I could get you pregnant. And it would probably be with a son.”

“I don’t care!” Neh’sa said recklessly. “I want to stay with you here. If I get pregnant with your baby, daughter or son, I’ll be happy to bear it.”

“I love you,” she added through their link.

“Oh Gods, sweetheart—I love you too. So much!” Thorn sent. And with a last deep thrust he was filling her, spurting deep inside her willing pussy to plant his seed in her…his Mistress…his lover…his mate forever.

And as he felt her inner pussy eagerly drinking him in, he knew they would never be parted again.

Chapter Thirty-two

“So you got a white flower?” Liv seemed disappointed at the result of the pregnancy test.

“Well, it’s not for lack of trying.” Neh’sa grinned, her cheeks getting a little warm. “And besides, we have plenty of time to try again since I’m staying here permanently.”

“You are?” Sophie gave a girlish squeal of joy and gave her a spontaneous hug which Neh’sa returned with ease. She had only been living on the Mothership a week but she was getting used to receiving and reciprocating affection from her new friends.

“Yes, I’m sorry to leave Yonnie Six, in a way.” Neh’sa sighed. “It’s been my life for so long. But you know, I realized I wasn’t really happy there. I think because I wasn’t raised there as a child. Deep down I believe I’ve always longed to go back to a society where males and females are equal.” She frowned. “I will miss my Mercy clinic, though. I don’t know who’s going to fund it now that I’m gone.”

“Don’t worry about the clinic,” Thorn said, coming in from the food prep area and handing her a drink.

They were “hanging out” as Liv called it, in the suite of another new friend—a full figured woman named Kat with gorgeous auburn hair. She was joined to Twin Kindred called Deep and Lock who were currently with Liv and Sophie’s mates in the food prep area. But Thorn, who had been talking to the other males, apparently couldn’t stay away from her—not that Neh’sa minded.

“Why should I not worry?” she asked, frowning at him. “What did you do?”

“Oh, I just happened to come upon an extremely valuable item—a Timbrian emerald brooch.” He grinned at her. “So I sold it and sent the proceeds to your doctor over on Yonnie Six. He seemed to think it would keep the clinic doors open for quite some time.”

“Lady Wraith’neck’s emerald brooch!” Neh’sa’s eyes widened. “But that brooch was her family’s birthright! Without it, she’s not a proper Mistress. She won’t be able to buy or sell slaves or even attend any social events! She’s going to be a social outcast on Yonnie Six.”

“And that’s a bad thing why exactly?” he murmured dryly.

Neh’sa couldn’t help laughing. “Thorn, you’re too much.”

“I just want you to be happy…Mistress,” he murmured, giving her a smile that seemed to melt things low in her pelvis. “And I knew you’d feel bad about leaving the clinic with no funding.”

“You think of everything.” Neh’sa smiled at him.

“Does my Mistress find it pleasing?” he asked softly, the golden sparks in his eyes beginning to dance.

“Very pleasing,” Neh’sa purred.

“Okay, break it up,” Kat said, laughing. “I get that you’re newly mated and you can’t keep your hands off each other but my kids are asleep in the other room—or they’re supposed to be asleep. You never can tell when the little boogers are going to wake up and come running out here. So let’s keep it PG, all right?”

“Sorry,” Thorn said, grinning unrepentantly. “We’ll try to behave. It’s just difficult when my Mistress is so fucking gorgeous.”

“Duly noted, doll,” Kat said, grinning. “I just don’t want to have to explain the facts of life to my boys if one or all of them wake up and come out of their room. That is not a conversation I’m ready to have yet.”

Liv frowned. “Is Shadow still having those night terrors?”

“Afraid so.” Kat sighed. “He must have heard Deep and Lock and I discussing the Hive because he keeps having bad dreams about ‘the giant bugs’.” She shook her head. “We have to be more careful around him. War and Peace are pretty much oblivious but Shad picks up on everything.”

“Well, he’s a shadow twin so he’s more sensitive, right?” Sophie asked. “I mean, aren’t they supposed to have precognitive powers or something like that?”

“The only power that kid has is the most active imagination I’ve ever seen,” Kat said firmly. “That and the fact that he’s way too perceptive for his own good.”

“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about the Hive being anything other than a nightmare,” Liv said. “With the information Commander Thorn sent us, we know what to do—just keep the shield up around the Earth and under no circumstances let them get their disgusting claws on any humanoid females.”

“Especially not the one special female—the Hive information calls her a ten’sora,” Sophie added.

“A what? What’s that?” Kat asked, frowning.

“Well, according to the information, when the Sovereign—the head bad guy bug in the Hive—implants a female with his grubs they…” Sophie made a face. “They chew their way out when they’re grown—killing her in the process.”

“Ugh!” Kate exclaimed.

“Sorry, but it’s true.” Sophie shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, that kills the host and so each girl can only host, uh, one batch of grubs.”

“This is truly horrifying,” Neh’sa murmured, feeling sick. “No wonder you were so desperate to get information on how to defeat these evil creatures!”

“It gets worse,” Sophie said. “I know—I’ve been studying the information along with Sylvan every night.” She shrugged. “He can’t keep himself from bringing his work home. Anyway, this ten’sora is a humanoid female—one in a billion supposedly—who can withstand the gestation of the grubs. I mean, her womb produces a certain kind of hormone or chemical that keeps them from biting their way out.”

“So what…they come out the normal way?” Liv shivered. “Not that there’s anything normal about giving birth to a batch of grubs—yuck!”

“Exactly.” Sophie nodded. “Which means the poor girl—whoever she is—can go on gestating batch after batch of grubs for the Hive.”

“How horrible!” Kat exclaimed. “Do we know who this poor girl is? This ten’sora?”

Sophie shook her head. “It could be anyone—any of the billions of females down on Earth or even here in the Mothership. The point is, we have to keep the Hive from getting even one female. Because if they somehow got their claws on a ten’sora…”

Kat gave a long, low whistle.

“Then it’s bye-bye baby,” she remarked. “If they start breeding, we’re done for.”

“It’s not going to happen,” Sophie said firmly. “The energy field the Kindred put around the Earth when the Scourge were attacking has been ramped way up. Nothing bigger than a bee can get in or out so the chances of one of those huge flying scouts Brynn and Varin told us about getting through is absolutely zero.”

“Who are Brynn and Varin?” Neh’sa asked.

“Friends you haven’t met yet,” Liv told her. “They’re newly mated too—they had some actual run-ins with the Hive and they’re the first people who warned us about them.”

“You’ll love Bryn—she was a princess on another planet and Varin was her body-guard slave,” Kat told them. “You guys should have a lot in common.”

“Well, I don’t know that a Mistress is much like a princess but I’d love to meet them,” Neh’sa said.

“But we’re sure the Hive can’t get anyone in or out past the energy shield?” Liv asked, a troubled look on her face. “I mean, they don’t have anything like the Scourge’s molecular transfer beam, do they?”

“If they did, don’t you think they would have already started using it?” Sophie asked reasonably. “Don’t worry, Liv—the Hive can’t get past the shield to snatch any Earth girls. And no girls means no grubs. No grubs means they’ll die off eventually—we just have to wait it out.”

“All right.” Liv sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just the stories Brynn told us are so awful and I know you said she told Sylvan she had a vision that confirms the fact the Sovereign of the Hive is still alive and kicking…”

“Mommy! Mommy!” Suddenly a little boy with a thick shock of snow-white hair and large, black eyes came running into the living area. “Mommy, she’s in trouble!” he gasped, throwing himself into Kat’s lap.

“Who’s in trouble, Shad?” Kat caught him and held him tight. “What are you talking about, honey? Did you have another bad dream?”

“The pretty lady. She’s in trouble!” There were tears in his large, dark eyes, Neh’sa saw with concern. Whatever he had dreamed seemed to have really affected him.

“What pretty lady?” Kat asked, smoothing back his snow-white hair.

Really, Neh’sa thought, he had remarkable coloring for a child. His features were almost as pretty as a girl’s but there was an underlying bone structure that spoke of the handsome male he would one day become.

“The pretty lady,” the child insisted, tears spilling over and running down his flushed cheeks. “She has skin the color of Auntie Lauren’s and eyes the color of your favorite earrings.”

“The jade ones?” Kat asked him and he nodded vigorously.

“Yes, those! Anyway, I saw her in my dream—she’s in trouble! She got stung and now she’s in trouble.”

“Stung by what, honey?” Kat lifted him as she talked, cradling him to her as she walked back to the bedroom he’d run out of. “Stung by a bee?”

“A mean, green bee,” Shadow said. “Mommy, we have to help her! Please, can’t we go to her?”

“You’re not going anywhere but back to bed, little man.” Kat kissed him on the forehead. “But I’ll sit with you a while to make sure you’re all right.”

“But—but the pretty lady!”

“It’s all right, honey—it was just a dream,” Kat soothed. And then she carried him into the bedroom and shut the door.

“Poor little thing—he seemed so upset!” Neh’sa remarked. “And what dramatic coloring he has.”

“Yes, he’s a shadow twin,” Liv explained. Usually when Twin Kindred mate with a woman, she has twin boys, like her mates. But sometimes a third is born—a shadow twin.”

“They have it kind of rough because they don’t look like their brothers and they don’t have a twin of their own to grow up with and call a mate with,” Sophie added. “As for the hair and eyes, Kat told me around puberty, they’re supposed to change completely.”

“Oh?” Neh’sa said. “Will he have auburn hair like his mother? Or black or brown hair like his fathers?” She had met Deep and Lock and liked them both.

“None of the above.” Sophie shook her head. “Supposedly when the hormones hit, they’ll change his hair to black and his eyes to white—a total switch. Weird, huh?”

“That would be interesting to see.” Neh’sa thought of the little boy’s gorgeous bone structure. “He’s going to be a very striking looking male when he grows up.”

“Undoubtedly,” Thorn murmured.

Just then, Kat came out of the sleeping room and shut the door softly behind her.

“All right…” She sighed and sank back down on the couch. “He’s mostly asleep again. I tell you, I wish these dreams would stop—they make him so upset. He went on and on about the ‘pretty lady’ and how she needed our help.”

“Do you think there could be something to it?” Liv asked. “I mean, it’s strange but we’ve all seen strange things since the Kindred came to Earth. Do you think there’s some girl somewhere we ought to be looking for?”

“I don’t know.” Kat frowned. “I don’t think so but right before Shad closed his eyes, he said the strangest thing.”

“Oh? What did he say?” Sophie looked interested.

“He said, ‘Don’t worry, mommy. The Goddess says it’s all right if you don’t believe me—she’s going to let me help the pretty lady myself when I grow up.’” She shook her head. “Isn’t that weird? I swear, when he started talking about the Goddess I got chills.”

“Maybe it was some kind of dream about his future,” Liv said thoughtfully. “They do say shadow twins have special powers, right?”

“I’d rather not think about it, okay?” Kat looked at them pleadingly. “It’s hard enough for Shad as it is, not having a twin like his brothers. He doesn’t need to feel singled out in any other way, you know?”

“I know, honey.” Sophie put an arm around her comfortingly. “It’s going to be all right. He’s such a bright, special little boy. He’s going to find his way—you’ll see.”

Kat sighed. “From your mouth to the Goddess’s ear.” She leaned over and picked up the drink she’d abandoned earlier. “Hey, let’s stop talking about depressing stuff, okay? This is supposed to be a party. So let’s have some fun!”

Neh’sa agreed with the sentiment completely—she wanted to have fun with her new friends and her new mate whom she loved so much.

But she couldn’t help letting her eyes drift to the bedroom door…couldn’t stop seeing the little boy and hear him crying,

“The pretty lady, Mommy—she’s in trouble!”

Epilogue

“All is in readiness, my Sovereign.” The sentient scholar-worker groomed his antennae eagerly. “The scout is dispatched and it carries with it one of the Druvian E’lo stones.”

“And you’re certain it will work?” Sovereign X'izith demanded. “You’re certain the stones are functional?”

“We made many trials, my Sovereign,” the worker buzzed, nodding. “The stones will work.”

“Test her once more before giving her the stone,” the Sovereign instructed. “We must make absolutely certain—we do not wish to bring any but the ten’sora back to the Hive.”

“The test shall be made and you will see, my Sovereign—this female is the one. The answer to all our prayers to the Nameless Ones,” the worker promised.

“You had better be right or I will rip off your head and eat it,” the Sovereign muttered savagely.

The scholar-worker began grooming his antennae nervously—almost compulsively.

“That will be unnecessary, my Sovereign. You will see—this is the female and soon she will be ours.”

His certainty satisfied X'izith.

“Very well.” He rubbed the twisted scar tissue around his breeding barb restlessly. Soon he would make use of it again—he would impregnate this special female with grubs as many times as it took for his successor to be born.

Soon there would be grubs enough to fill the royal and the common nurseries alike, which now stood empty and waiting. Soon there would be workers and drones and guards and warriors—all the components they needed to take over this little solar system and after that, the entire galaxy!

Soon it shall be done, he promised himself. By the Nameless Ones, Lords of Darkness I swear it. The Hive shall live forever.

The End…?

Nope! There is always another Kindred coming. Look for Kindred 21 in the near future but before that, you'll be seeing a Kindred novella called Seeing with the Heart, hopefully coming out in September. Here’s a blurb to give you a taste:

Seeing with the Heart: a Kindred Tales novella

Braxx is a Beast Kindred with a painful past. A traumatic crash stole his brother and his bride from him and left half of his face horribly scarred. Desperate to avoid the pitying and disgusted looks he gets whenever he goes out, he takes a job as a scout, travelling across the universe to find new trade partners and power sources for the Kindred. He thinks he'll never love again until he comes back to Earth and meets Molly.

Dr. Molly Reynaud has a doctorate in Cultural Anthropology. She's also completely blind and has been since a car accident took both her parents and her sight at the age of sixteen. When she is chosen to do a field study on the elusive Tal'ossi people from Tal'os Trenta, she doesn’t expect to have feelings for the Kindred warrior who is supposed to guard her there. But she can't seem to help the instant connection she feels to Braxx and she knows he feels the same for her.

Though he wants Molly desperately, Brax is scarred on the inside too--such a perfect female isn't for him, he's certain. If she knew his past, if she could see his face, she wouldn't want him--or so he tells himself.

Then the unthinkable happens--Molly is kidnapped by the Deep Dwellers of Tal'ossi and taken down to the subterranean depths as a bride for their leader. Braxx must go after her and suddenly the idea of claiming turns from a wish to a necessity.

Can Braxx overcome his tragic past and save the woman he loves? And can Molly convince him they belong together? Both of them will have to practice Seeing with the Heart or they will be parted forever…

Hugs to you all, and thanks, as always, for reading. Now read on for a taste of Stone Cold Fox, the third book in the Cougarville series.

Evangeline

***PS--If you've enjoyed Surrendered, please take a moment to leave a good reivew HERE. Good reviews are like gold for an author--they let other readers know it's okay to take a chance on a new series which means I can keep writing for a living to feed your Kindred cravings. ; ) Hugs, Evangeline

* * * * *

Stone Cold Fox: Book 3 of the Cougarville series

Cougarville's mechanic, and resident Alpha fox, shelters a mysterious woman who ignites his protective animal instincts when evil forces try to tear them apart.

Jo Ferrell has been cast out of her home for reasons she doesn’t understand. The grey streak in her hair is gone, her body is younger, and there’s an ominous shadow chasing her. With nowhere else to go, Jo finds shelter in a shed whose owner she wants nothing to do with—but he’s too much to resist.

Reese Cooper has never felt a pull towards a woman like he does towards Jo and his Fox is desperate to claim her as their mate. After offering her a place to stay, Reese finds it difficult to resist his beautiful new roommate. But when dark magic threatens their happiness, Reese will use all of his strength to protect the woman he loves…if he’s not too late.

Read on for an excerpt and to see the sexy cover… ; )

Stone Cold Fox by:

Evangeline Anderson

Prologue

Jo ran blindly through the forest, the blackness of night pressing against her eyelids as heavy as felt. Her heart thundered in her chest and her breath tore in her throat—heavy and hot—and still she could hear the thing right behind her. The shadow creature that had been hunting her these past  nights had finally decided to take her.

Only Jo had no intention of being taken.

It must be a demon of some kind, Jo thought as she crashed through the underbrush and ducked under a low hanging limb. She could feel its darkness—its hunger to consume.

And her magic was useless against it.

She’d felt it behind her for weeks—ever since she’d been forced to leave Avalon, the only home she’d known for years. It kept getting closer and closer and that night she’d decided to take a stand.

Using the implements she’d managed to take with her before the Elders escorted her to the gates and put her out for good, Jo had cast a circle around herself—a circle of warding and protection. She was a Third Level Wiccan and she knew what she was doing—she’d been confident that the circle would protect her.

But the shadow creature had walked right through it, as though it wasn’t even there.

How? she wondered wildly as she ran, trying to keep from falling. How could it get past my magic? She practiced strictly white magic  and lived by the Wiccan rule of three that stated any energy a witch put out into the world would return to her three-fold. A creature of evil shouldn’t have been able to break past the magical boundaries she’d set and the shadow thing was most definitely evil—Jo could feel it in her bones.

Maybe the Elders were right. Maybe my magic is turning dark, she thought. But that couldn’t be—she’d followed the path her mentor, Miranda, had set out for her so carefully all these years, always avoiding the temptation to seek greater power through dark channels. She’d even stopped herself from seeking retribution from those that had wronged her—though she had been very greatly wronged before she found her way to Avalon.

And now she was trying to find her way away from Avalon and away from the shadow creature chasing her.

Please Goddess, she thought, sending a prayer heavenward. Please, help me get away! Help me find safety somewhere—anywhere!

As if in answer to her prayers, the clouds parted and she saw a break in the trees up ahead. The moon overhead was new and thin but it shone as brightly as it could to help light her way.

There! Jo gulped in a breath and somehow pushed herself faster, running full tilt until she thought her heart would burst with the effort. The shadow creature was right behind her, she could feel it reaching for her—one clawed hand scrabbling at the ragged back of her dress. Its cold fingers sent ice down her spine and she knew if it caught her it wouldn’t just eat her body—her soul was what this thing was hungry for.

She reached the edge of the forest and saw a smooth expanse of lawn with a big Victorian house in the middle of it. There was a ramshackle old shed behind the house.

Jo’s heart quickened—she was mostly a Hearth witch, meaning her powers strengthened inside a home where people dwelled.

The shadow creature’s fingers tightened on the back of her dress, causing the skin of her back to ripple helplessly into goosebumps.

Goddess! she prayed again. Help me!

Suddenly the thin sliver of the new moon seemed to glow even more brightly. A beam of its light stabbed between the pines and maples that made up the borders of the forest and found the creature that was trying to consume her.

Jo heard a low hissing sound and then the strangling pressure at her throat was abruptly gone as the thing loosed its hold on the back of  her dress.

She staggered out of the forest and ran, sobbing with exhaustion and fear, into the shelter of the shed. She threw a glance over her shoulder before she went in, fearful that the shadow thing was following her—she didn’t want to be trapped in  the shed, cornered  with nowhere to go.

But mercifully, the thing stayed just within the borders of the forest. Jo could see it sliding back and forth like a dark wind in the trees, hissing and muttering angrily to itself.

She felt a rush of pure relief so intense it nearly made her faint. The creature couldn’t get to her. Safe—she was safe in here.

But for how long?

Want to read the rest of Stone Cold Fox? You can find it HERE.

Pre-order your copy now to see it pop up on your Kindle August 1st. Hugs and Happy Reading!

Evangeline

Also by Evangeline Anderson

**Please note--these are Amazon/Kindle links. If you have a Nook or other reading device, please check my website for links to all other formats**

Brides of the Kindred series

Claimed  (Also available in Audio and Print format)

Hunted   (Also available in Audio  and Print format)

Sought   (Also Available in Audio and Print format)

Found    (Also Available in Audio and Print format)

Revealed  (Also Available in Print format)(coming soon to Audio)

Pursued   (Also Available in Print format)

Exiled    (Also Available in Print format)

Shadowed  (Also Available in Print format)

Chained

Divided

Devoured  (Also available in Print)

Enhanced

Cursed

Enslaved

Targeted

Forgotten

Switched (Also Available in Print)

Uncharted (Also Available in Print)

Unbound (also Available in Print)

Surrendered (Also Available in Print)

Mastering the Mistress   (Brides of the Kindred Novella best read between Enslaved and Targeted)

Bonding with the Beast (Brides of the Kindred Novella best read between Unbound and Surrendered.)

Born to Darkness series

Crimson Debt (Also available in Audio)

Scarlet Heat    (Also available in Audio)

Ruby Shadows (Also available in Audio)

Cardinal Sins (Coming Soon)

Alien Mate Index series

Abducted (Also available in Print and Audio)

Protected (Also available in Print and Audio)

Descended (Also available in Print and Audio)

Severed (Also available in Print and Audio )

The Cougarville Series

Buck Naked  (Also available in Audio)

Cougar Bait (Also avialable in Audio)

Stone Cold Fox (coming August 2017 in e-book and Audio)

The Institute series

The Institute: Daddy Issues

The Institute: Mishka's Spanking

Compendiums

Brides of the Kindred Volume One

Contains Claimed, Hunted, Sought and Found all in one volume

Born to Darkness Box Set

Contains Crimson Debt, Scarlet Heat, and Ruby Shadows all in one volume

Stand Alone Novels

Purity (Now available in Audio)

Stress Relief

The Last Man on Earth

Anyone U Want

Shadow Dreams

Mastering the Mistress

Hunger Moon Rising

Cougar Christmas

Planet X (Also available in Audio)

Deal with the Devil (coming August in e-book and Audio)

YA Novels

The Academy

About the Author

Evangeline Anderson is the New York Times and USA Today Best Selling Author of the Brides of the Kindred, Alien Mate Index, Cougarville, and Born to Darkness series. She is forty-something and lives in Florida with a husband, a son, and two cats. She had been writing erotic fiction for her own gratification for a number of years before it occurred to her to try and get paid for it. To her delight, she found that it was actually possible to get money for having a dirty mind and she has been writing paranormal and Sci-fi erotica steadily ever since.

You can find her online at her website www.evangelineanderson.com

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Table of Contents

Surrendered

Evangeline Anderson

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-two

Epilogue

The End…?

Seeing with the Heart: a Kindred Tales novella

Evangeline

Stone Cold Fox: Book 3 of the Cougarville series

Read on for an excerpt and to see the sexy cover… ; )

Stone Cold Fox by:

Evangeline

Also by Evangeline Anderson

About the Author

Table of Contents

Surrendered

Evangeline Anderson

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-two

Epilogue

The End…?

Seeing with the Heart: a Kindred Tales novella

Evangeline

Stone Cold Fox: Book 3 of the Cougarville series

Read on for an excerpt and to see the sexy cover… ; )

Stone Cold Fox by:

Evangeline

Also by Evangeline Anderson

About the Author