Solania screamed, orgasming with each spank. Her pussy clenched him tightly, the helpless spasms driving him onward to more and more punishment. Twice he came inside her that way, until her ass was red and twitching between blows.
“Clean me,” he ordered her.
Eagerly, Solania fell to the task, the words “Yes, Master” pouring hotly and submissively from her lips.
Azar steeled himself against the power of the memories. Something about Theryssa was making him feel it all again, like it had just happened. What was going on here? If he was supposed to be in charge, why did he feel like he was losing control by the minute?
And this was with Theryssa on her knees in front of him, his erection deep in her mouth, silencing her willful tongue. How much worse would it be in a more equal position?
Time to find out.
Consider it another round of testing. The seasoned pirate primale and former Guardian against the up-and-coming superwoman. No holds barred.
And may the better person win.
* * * * *
Theryssa was only sucking Azar’s cock under duress. She wasn’t really enjoying it. And she was going to tell him that, at the first available opportunity. The fact that he tasted so wickedly pungent, so totally male and salty sweet meant nothing. As did the fact that she was stuffing him down her throat, trying to inhale him like a greedy little eager-to-please obedient, her pussy on fire and demanding a fresh injection.
If anything, she was being ironic, sarcastic even, showing him how totally opposite such behavior was to her true nature.
In truth, she hated his pulsing heat, the way he was playing her, sliding in and out, controlling how much she got of him at any given moment. If he thought to break her, he had another think coming. She was a free woman, a Guardian, with a fine lineage, and she would never beg a man for anything sexual, least of all a pirate.
Hate was a bad emotion, though. It was the flipside of another—the totally wrong one to have here. She decided to refocus on feeling neutral. This was a mechanical act and she was going through the motions. Just like they practiced going through Narthian bug torture.
Granted, Azar was no bug. He was more like a god dropped from the depths of space into her lap.
His hands were at the side of her head. He had her hair insolently twisted in his fingers. No man had ever dared to treat her this way, using her precisely as he wished, for his own pleasure. Even the primales she had known treated her with kid gloves. For while it was not generally known who her parents were, it was clear she was someone special.
The first female in the Corps. That distinction came with a certain aura. To top it off, she was primale herself, which meant she fought for control in every encounter. Her primale lovers, though few in number, tended to direct her to the weaker brand of males, the mems. These were more than happy to bed the beautiful Theryssa, though they promptly found themselves in over their heads.
Most ran like hell, though a few enjoyed it. Theryssa, however, was profoundly frustrated to find herself taking on the dominant role. Having a man on his knees in her presence was not a particularly great turn–on. Although her rage at the moment made her more than a little anxious to turn the tables on Azar.
The question was, could she actually manage the feat? When the time came to make her move, would he fold to her primale strength, or would he reveal himself as what she suspected him to be—some kind of rogue primale himself.
She was pretty much convinced of the fact. No natural-born male should be able to keep up an erection like this. Nor should he have been able to shoot her full of what felt like a gallon of sticky, hot cum inside her. The way he was keeping hold of her head, too, gave her this uncanny feeling of a whole lot of latent power.
Plus there were the intangibles. The way he stood here, expecting her to pleasure him, as though it was his right, as though she had no hope of real resistance.
Theryssa was fighting strong emotions in the process. The idea that she might be a real prisoner right now…a slave, even…was making her pussy drip. He had told her he wanted her again. And he sounded like he wasn’t going to let anything stand in the way.
She remembered the time when she was eighteen and she had inadvertently discovered her friend Urella pleasuring a mem in the back of a dimly lit orbiting dance club. Urella was a fem and not an obedient, but it was clear enough she was able to give in to some pretty deep female surrender urges as she had taken her lover’s cock all the way to the back of her throat. The mem had been pumping her like mad, his fingers wound around her long blue hair, manipulating her mouth like a pussy.
Urella’s face had been lit with pure bliss. Her jaw had been slack and her hand had been between her legs, underneath her short skirt. She’d been making herself come, even as the mem had worked her.
His eyes had been closed and his teeth gritted, and Theryssa remembered being so jealous because at that moment he had been so completely into Urella and she into him.
A few moments after the tall blond mem had ejaculated inside Urella’s mouth, they’d switched positions, so he could eat out her pussy. It was at this point that Urella had looked out and seen Theryssa.
Theryssa had run off, all the way home. She’d never spoken of the incident again, and when Urella had pressed her to talk, she’d stopped seeing her.
Theryssa had always been that way. Stubborn like her father. Her mother knew this, and had given up dealing with both of them years ago.
Azar stopped Theryssa’s rhythmic motions, breaking her reverie. Removing himself from her mouth, he helped her back to her feet. “Tell me,” he said. “What you want now.”
“From you? Nothing,” she lied, squeezing together her throbbing, engorged pussy lips.
“Your nipples are hard,” Azar noted. “I assume that’s just another mechanical reaction?”
“Yep. I’m cold,” she replied, tightlipped.
“But you’re sweating.”
“Must be space flu.”
His lips angled into a rakish smile, one part gorgeous, two parts infuriating. “Got that flu in your pussy, too?”
“Fuck you.”
“Pinch your nipple, Theryssa.”
The order took her aback. “What for?”
“I don’t have to explain my orders, young lady. But if you must know, it’s punishment. For being disrespectful.”
Theryssa wanted so badly to say something even worse. Instead, she said, “No.”
“If you don’t, Theryssa, I will.”
Theryssa took hold of one of her aching little buds, figuring she would get off easier that way. “There? Are you satisfied?”
“No, I’m not. Do it harder.”
Theryssa applied a little more pressure.
“More.”
“That’s enough,” she said, wincing.
“Pinch it for real, Theryssa, or I will put you in chains for the night.”
The blood left her nipple. She brought a whimper to her own lips. “Azar, please.”
“You may apologize.”
“I’m sorry.” Theryssa’s pussy flooded afresh. The man was being so strong with her, so firm and…masculine. He was tolerating nothing, just as if she were his obedient, mated and fully submitted.
“You may let go,” said Azar.
The release of her nipple brought a fresh wave of pain, hot and pulsing and sexual.
“You may thank me for disciplining you.”
“Thank you,” Theryssa whispered, her eyes fixed intently on his feet.
“Is your pussy wet?” he wanted to know.
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
Theryssa moaned softly. Under his command, her fingers moved to her own opening. She tremored, collecting the required evidence.
“Taste it.”
Hot and helpless, weak as a kitten, Theryssa sucked her fingertips.
“What do you taste?”
“M-myself,” she said, stuttering for the first time in her life.
“Speak up.�
��
“I taste myself,” she declared, his stern tone making her startle.
“You taste your come?”
“Yes…I taste my come.” The word made her feel invaded, taken by the man. Far from wanting to fight, however, her body was craving more. Like the moth that hovered dangerously close to the burning power of the fire.
“What do you want?” Azar repeated his earlier question.
The lesson was not lost—of Azar’s power in the situation. And her lack of it. “I want to make sex,” she said, giving him a better answer this time around.
Or at least what she thought was a better answer.
“You speak in Council euphemisms, Theryssa. I want to hear you spell it out, in plain English.”
“I want to fuck,” she corrected.
Azar remained unsatisfied. “Do you wish to fuck, or be fucked? There is a difference.”
Theryssa swallowed hard. Damn straight there was a difference. Fucking meant equality, being fucked was something else altogether. “I guess you’re looking for me to tell you how I want you to fuck me…”
“Do you?” He was standing half a breath away, his eyes intense upon her—cool and clear, like a predatory cat. He was acting as though he had all the time in the world and not a bit of desperation to contend with.
She, on the other hand, was a mass of need, her confidence evaporating, her will melting in the heat of her passion. “Azar,” she pleaded, “don’t make me…”
“I’m not making you do anything, little one. If you have no desire to continue our time together, I can put you in irons, or remove you to a cell. The choice is yours.”
“Azar, you know I’m aroused…” She put her palm against his chest, barely grazing his smooth skin—a velvet covering to rock-hard muscle.
He grasped her wrist. His grip was like steel. Could she break it? Her head was swimming. Of course she could. She was just getting a little delirious.
Azar held her arm over her head. “It doesn’t matter what I know or don’t know. I asked you a question, and I want the answer.”
Theryssa felt as if she might faint. If he were to let go, she would slip to the floor, weak as anything. What was going on here?
“Yes,” she whispered, her chest rising and falling under the man’s imperious gaze.
“Yes, what, Theryssa? I do not want to play games with you.”
“Yes, I want to be fucked. By you.”
Azar released her. “Describe it. Tell me, exactly.”
Her mouth was dry as a desert planet. Why was he doing this? “I-I just want you to fuck me with your cock.”
“More,” he demanded.
“I want your cock in my pussy,” she supplied. “I want…I need it inside me.
“Touch yourself. Tell me how badly you need it.”
“Yes, Azar…” She moaned softly as her finger tips traveled down her tingling flesh, over her undulating belly to the delta of her thighs. “Oh, god, yes.” She flicked the tip of her swollen clitoris. “I need it very badly. I need it fast and hard.”
Azar reached for her nipple and gave it a punitive tweak. “You’re not talking about my cock. Tell me how you want my cock.”
Her moan turned to a half-groan, peppered with pain. “I want…your cock.” She arched her back, thrusting her breasts out masochistically. “I want it…pummeling me. So hard and fast. Filling me…driving me into the ground. I want it to own me and brand me and mark me…”
Azar showed no mercy. Grabbing the other nipple with his free hand he pressed her even farther. “Make yourself come, Theryssa, and tell me how badly you want it.”
“I’ll do anything,” she cried, her fingers racing up and down her slit. “I’ll crawl for you, Azar…I’ll beg.”
In the back of her mind somewhere, she thought of Galina. The princess who had turned slave. Was this the same road that other women had traveled with Azar?
“That’s it, little one,” he encouraged, manipulating her pinched nipples. “Give it to me. Give it all to me.”
The things you will never take, but which I will freely give…like my pride. Isn’t that what you mean?
Theryssa shook her head, attempting to resist. Azar broke her with a kiss. Hot and hard and punishing. As she yielded her mouth to his plundering tongue, she found herself giving way below. Whimpering, sweat pouring down her forehead, she took the only option left, riding the overwhelming outpouring of sex, fingers stuffed obediently in her pussy.
Never before had she experienced a climax as a complete and utter act of subjugation to another’s will. It was his command, and therefore his fingers inside her. The fact that he was not orgasming, but merely manipulating her at his leisure, only re-enforced the feeling of being controlled.
And then there were his fingers playing with her nipples, squeezing and releasing, tantalizing, raising her high and bringing her low, mixing the pain and pleasure into an indescribable soaring.
There was no mistaking it as his own recipe, a unique blend against which Theryssa stood not a chance of keeping her freedom. Up, over the mountaintops, through the atmosphere and into space. Out to the nearest star for an explosion, a supernova blast—enough searing heat to melt matter.
Never had she masturbated like this. Never had she breathed like this.
When it was done, she could not bear to be released. Sucking on her lip, nearly to the point of drawing blood, she fell against him, shivering. It was not a matter of craving release now, but one of holding herself in one piece. Body and soul, she felt like she was falling apart. Drifting away on a cloud.
She needed his touch to be reminded she was real. And she needed his cock to be sure she was still capable of feeling anything.
“Touch it,” he whispered, his breath hot in her ear, his teeth lightly nibbling at the lobe.
Theryssa did not need to be told what it was he was requiring her to touch. She drew a sharp breath, holding it. Her fingers moved in slow motion, down to Azar’s cock.
Oh, god, he was throbbing. And so big and hard. Much bigger than before. She retracted her fingers, as though electrocuted.
“Touch it,” he repeated.
Theryssa returned her fingertips to where they belonged. Tentatively, luxuriating in the feel of him, she ran them up the length, all the way to the base.
“Wrap your fingers tight.”
She did so, marveling at his thickness. The vein underneath pulsed, responding to the pressure. Azar remained impassive, a study in utter self-discipline.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice bearing only the slightest edge, husky and sexy as hell.
It was their third go-round with this particular question and this time she was more than ready to give him a down and dirty answer. “I want to be fucked, Azar. I need you to fuck me like an animal. I need you to make me scream, and fuck me into submission.”
Azar ran his fingers through her hair, tilting back her head. “I am going to take you harder than I have ever taken a woman, Theryssa.”
“Yes…I want that,” she croaked. “I need it.”
“On the rug,” he said. “I am going to have you on the rug.”
“Yes…” It was perfect. He would subdue her and fill her and possess her. Exactly as he pleased. Not on any civilized bed, but on the surface of an animal fur, as soft as it was barbaric. “On the rug…”
His eyes never left hers as he made his move. One hand behind her back, supporting her as he lowered her to the floor. With the other, he was already staking his claim, running his capable, strong fingers up and down her torso, sending rivulets of pleasure up and down her spine.
Theryssa was on the verge of another orgasm.
She cried out softly as her buttocks touched the thick, absorbing surface of the white animal fur. Azar had set her down perfectly, with the grace of a dream. But there was no mistaking the ferocity of his intent.
“Mine,” he loomed above her, his hand moving between her thighs.
Theryssa felt the spa
sms deep inside. Foreshadows of climaxes to come. “Yours,” she replied, opening her legs. The statement was acknowledgement and surrender and foreplay all at once. As admissions went, it did more to turn her insides to jelly, head to toe, than all the touches of all the men before her in her life.
She had but one purpose now, one goal.
Azar’s cock.
“Please…”
He possessed her in a single motion, using his hand to guide himself home. Either his erection had shrunk back down or she was much more open and ready this time, because it was an instant, easy fit. She had expected a much tighter fit, given how large he had appeared earlier.
Once again she was reminded of the power of primales to change the size of their erections at will, in the same way mems could direct their chests to puff out or recess into concavity.
Was that what was really going on with Azar? Could he really be a superman in disguise? The evidence seemed to be mounting.
That was as far as her thought processes were allowed to go. Azar had her occupied with other things.
Gathering both her hands into one of his, he pinned her wrists over her head. “You will not come without permission,” he dictated.
Theryssa arched her spine, attempting to free herself. He pushed her back down. Was she trying her hardest? Was he? It was all so hazy. Which one of them held the real superiority?
For the moment, Azar did, at least as far as the sex went. Her body had its needs, its cravings, and those were leading her directly into submission. The fact was, having her wrists held down was exciting, all the more so for how it would have made her furious any other time.
So was having her body so intimately controlled. This man had dared to take away her most fundamental right—that of orgasming as she saw fit.
She would have to get permission…
The idea scandalized and thrilled her.
“I want to come now,” she declared, deciding to test his power.
“Permission denied.”
Bastard. Would he really try to stop her? Assuming such a thing was really possible if she wanted to badly enough. And what would he do if she disobeyed?
“What must I do to get permission?” she asked.
Azar shifted position, managing to sink his cock even deeper inside her pulsing sex. “You must tell me who sent you. And what you are here for.”
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