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.”