Pleasure Masters

by Jaide Fox

  He gave her a lingering look, then picked up a length of rope. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  Orcha swallowed, trusting that she’d not done something to earn punishment. She reminded herself that she’d asked for this—that he thought she wanted it.

  She obeyed him, but despite this, she felt tension tighten the muscles of her arms and neck. “What are you going to do?”

  Torin took the rope and looped it around and around her wrists, binding them firmly—but not overly tight—together. He moved her arms and tested his knot, then went to gather more rope. “When I am not being compelled to put to death the incarcerated, I enjoy practicing an ancient erotic art of binding women. You would not have heard of this. It is from a solar system far from here. It is known as kinbaku. When I saw you, I knew at once that you would be my ultimate subject. Many have come to witness my art.”

  She frowned, allowing him to push her toward the thick post. “Art?”

  “We are more than mindless berserkers and killers, dear Orcha. Life cannot be only about death. There must be some beauty. We will practice, and then you shall see just how many enjoy my particular art form.”

  He turned her back to the post and grasped the front of her corset, unhooking the black clasps holding it together. She sucked in a sharp breath, feeling her heart pound against her ribs.

  Seeing her rising tension, he crooked a smile. “I will not hurt you. I give you my word.”

  She nodded, feeling doubtful, but despite her reservations, she was intrigued to see what he would do. Keeping his eyes fixed on hers, he unhooked her corset to the bottom and drew it around her waist and dropped it on the floor. He crouched in front of her and pulled the matching bottoms down her legs, leaving her nude. His face was so close to her bare mound, she could feel the waft of his warm breath on the sensitive skin. She thought for a moment he might kiss her there, but he stood and pulled a long length of rope around the back of her neck.

  Twisting the rope into a simple braid, he rested the braid between her breasts then tied that around her back and back and forth around the tops of her breasts and underneath until he’d made a frame around each breast. Her nipples pebbled in the cool air of the room and the constant brush of his gaze as he worked around her chest.

  Orcha attempted to remain aloof and clinical, but the blood rushed to her skin, turning it pink as she flushed.

  He looked up at her face and cocked a thick, black eyebrow. “It’s not too tight, is it? You are coloring. How must it feel for your skin to betray your emotions…” he trailed off.

  She shook her head, wishing her pale skin didn’t show excitement and embarrassment so easily. “No. It’s fine,” she said, counting inside her head to try and distract herself from what was going on. She wasn’t timid about showing her body off—that wasn’t the problem.

  Then why did she feel this growing sense of arousal when he was doing nothing more than tying her up with rope?

  “Good. We’ve hardly begun,” he said in a quiet voice, gathering another length of rope. With this one, he tied her waist and pinched it in just enough that she couldn’t take a deep breath, then bound her to the post behind her back. The rough wood centered her, allowing her a brief distraction as he bound her shoulders to the post as well.

  Torin stood in front of her, his chest inches from her bound breasts. He cupped her jaw, holding her face still so that she couldn’t look away from his intense eyes. “You’re blushing,” he murmured. “Can it be that you are enjoying my ropes?”

  Her pulse throbbed in her breasts and throat and lower, centering in the core of her womanhood like dull thudding. Would he kiss her? Did she want him to? She parted her lips and licked them, searching for an answer that would satisfy him without surrender.

  Why did she feel this insipid, creeping desire for him? She fought it off, remembering her misery and suffering, whipping her mind for her crimes if he would not beat her.

  She closed her eyes, but it could not block out the exotic scent of his masculinity or the touch of his rough and warm hands.

  Orcha cursed her weak disposition.

  Slowly, he peeled his fingers free from her jaw, and she watched from the corner of her lowered lids as he pulled the rope between both hands. She felt the roughness skitter down her stomach and move around her hip and the small of her back. He bent, only slightly, keeping his eyes on hers as he looped around both hips and then the insides of her thighs. Straightening, he pulled it firm against the crease of her legs, parting her sex just enough that she could smell the faint scent of her arousal creaming her folds.

  He tied off the rope and dropped to his knees—his face so close to her pussy, she knew he could see and smell her arousal. Orcha bit her lip, tightening her lower belly in anticipation of stimulation of some kind. Instead, he took the longest length of rope and looped it around the balls of her toes, heel, and ankle. He then recreated his tie on the other foot and stood, moving behind her.

  The rope around her feet went as taut as her belly.

  Orcha gasped as the rope suddenly zipped through the iron rings, and her feet lifted off the floor until her knees pointed outward.

  The bindings on her chest and waist tightened. Her pulse throbbed beneath the surface of her skin.

  The pressure increased in her breasts and legs, making her keenly aware of her splayed open vulnerability.

  He returned to her with knotted lengths of black cloth strips. These he wound around her waist and bottom like a thong, pulling the ends through her slit. He took a step back and then another, tugging at the strips that sawed silkily through her wet labia. A knot moved past her clit. He pulled the other side and sawed it against the nubbin, back and forth with gentle precision.

  Orcha arched her head back against the post, trembling all over. She wanted to cry out for him to stop, but words failed her. She’d come this far—how much more would he toy with her?

  A gleam entered his eyes as he moved the knotted cloth back and forth from her clit to her pussy hole. Her belly jumped as the rough stimulation worked the tension knotting her muscles tighter and tighter. He flicked his wrists faster, drawing the cloth around his hands and moving towards her. Closer. Closer, until the harsh breaths he took brought his chest against the pebbled peaks of her breasts.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his mouth inches from hers. The knot tickled her clit again for emphasis.

  “Yes. No,” she said.

  “Which is it? Do you want more?” he asked, loosening the slack and stopping the delicious friction that had her climbing the precipice.

  Orcha gnawed her bottom lip, nodding. He dropped a hand and pushed the knotted cloth inside her. She could feel them move one by one into her channel as he stuffed it in. It seemed to swell inside the clutch of her body, absorbing all the moisture.

  Torin bent and bit her bottom lip. She jerked against the ropes as he pulled the strip with aching slowness from her body. Every knot made her pussy clench around it.

  He pinched her clit as he pulled the full length from her body, then started again, pushing knot after knot inside her, until she felt stuffed full.

  He nipped her lips, making her breathless as he pulled one knot free from her achy body. He was torturing her a different way, she realized that now.

  “Put me out of my misery,” she said on a gasp, jerking against the ropes.

  He smiled, rubbing cream around her clit in a maddening, teasing circle. “I wondered how long you could hold out before begging me to stop. You’ve lasted longer than most.”

  She swallowed, wanting to scream as he pulled another knot from within her. “I don’t want it to stop, but I need to come,” she said, ragged and breathless. “I can’t move or I’d do it myself.”

  He bared his teeth, his eyes dark and glittering. “And we come to the crux of the matter.”

  “I could kill you for this,” she ground out, struggling against the ropes.

  “You were a willing victim, but I will
allow you your little death, Orcha,” he said.

  Torin pinched and rolled her clit, keeping his eyes locked with hers. The knotted cloth he left inside her, filling every inch of her pussy as he rubbed her love button. Tension climbed higher within her, growing into an ache that she couldn’t fight or ignore. Her breath came faster, in hard little bursts due to her binding. Her legs throbbed. Everything pulsed and attuned to the movement of his fingers against her slippery nubbin.

  Just as she felt her body climbing over the precipice, when the tightness binding her insides was at its highest and she could feel herself falling over, Torin yanked the knotted cloth free from her pussy.

  Orcha screamed at the sudden stimulation, hearing the sodden cloth slap against her inner thigh as it was freed and left her pussy clamping and clenching on nothing but itself. And still, the orgasm was so intense from the stimulation, she thought she might black out. Spots dazzled her peripheral, and then Torin was there, claiming her mouth in a kiss she hadn’t expected or wanted.

  Hot and wet, his tongue ravaged her mouth, swallowing her screams as she came on his hand and cream gushed from her insides. Tears studded her eyes, burning, but she couldn’t fight him—didn’t want to.

  She sucked his tongue, devouring him until the waves wracking her body finally subsided into a dull tingle along every muscle.

  Torin ripped away from her mouth, breathing as heavily as she. He rested his forehead against hers. He unwound the ropes until he could lower her to the floor on her knees. The bindings on her hands were the last to be removed, and once she was free of all encumbrance, she collapsed on the floor, welcoming the cold tiles against her feverish skin. Torin drew her into his lap, brushing her thin, white dreads back from her forehead. He reached behind him and dragged the blanket down to cover her naked back. Somehow the warmth of his hard muscled leg and rough, caressing hand felt good to her. She knew his race had little tenderness about them, and so she enjoyed the moment while she could.

  “I believe I will enjoy taming you, dear Orcha,” he said in a quiet voice she almost couldn’t hear.

  Chapter Four

  Orcha shoved off of Torin’s lap and glared at him. “I am not a dog. I cannot be tamed as if I were some common animal.”

  “But you can be punished like a beast?”

  “That is different. If my body feels pain, perhaps I can learn to live with myself,” she said.

  “Taming, training, the words are interchangeable and mean the same,” Torin said, standing and looking down on her.

  Orcha stood and lifted her chin, facing him head on. She’d allowed him leeway with her body and realized her mistake. If he thought he could bend her to his will so easily, he was badly mistaken. “To you, perhaps, but you don’t live in the real world. This place caters to your whims, keeping you and your kind happy prisoners.”

  “Are you not also a prisoner? You committed a crime. I would think you would be grateful for being selected as my mate.”

  Orcha willed her rising blood pressure to calm down with deep breaths. She could feel heat scorching her skin in a flush. Keeping her temper in check had always been an arduous task for her. “I allowed you your game. I will continue to allow you this simple pleasure, but if you think I will do any more than that, you are mistaken. You can bind my body and give or take pleasure, but you will never break my mind, claim my heart, or own my soul.” She waved her hand. “You know nothing of women.”

  Torin’s jaw clenched. Even beneath the thin black beard, she could see the tension and anger on his face held in check.

  A beep came from a table that sat beside the door. Torin turned from her and walked to the table, picking up a small black tablet. He scrolled down, reading, then returned his gaze back to her.

  “The Antarians are holding a party in celebration of our mates. They’ve requested our presence and a demonstration of kinbaku before dinner.”

  Orcha pulled the blanket tighter around her chest. “And?”

  He set the tablet back on the table. “I’ve mentioned their interest in the art. Don’t you wish to have the admiration of those around you?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I could care less. I’ve never considered myself to be some kind of beauty.”

  “Not in a conventional way, but no one will be able to look away from you once I’ve bound black and red all over your ivory skin. Go and shower and make yourself ready for the festivities. You will find the shower to the right as well as a robe and gown.”

  She raised her eyebrows, turning in the direction he pointed. “Were you so sure of your skills that you prepared for victory beforehand?”

  He cocked a smile at her. “Unlike some of the other ShadeShifters, I’ve had female companionship. They enjoy my ropes and ties.”

  “Of course,” she said through a tight smile.

  Torin’s lips twitched. He raised an eyebrow, as if surprised. “Is that jealousy? Did you think me a virgin?”

  Orcha chose not to answer him, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and dropped the blanket to walk naked across the suite to the bathroom. So what if she was indignant at the prospect of wearing something another woman had worn before her? Beggars could not be choosers.

  She could hear his chuckle from the other room as she closed the door to his obnoxiously attractive laugh.

  As the hot water cascaded over her tired body, she vowed to better control both her anger and her emotions. Realizing that she would need to submit to the whims of Torin and the people—for now—was not any easy revelation.

  Her pride mingled with guilt, making it difficult for her to come to terms with the change in her position. They’d turned her sentence over to a sentence mated with Torin. She could look at it as punishment, or she could learn to accept the consequences for her actions and move on with her life.

  The problem was, she didn’t want to move on from her guilt and what she’d done.

  The spiral on the small of her back itched. She scratched it, feeling an unnatural heat radiating from her skin. She wondered just how powerful the inhibitor would be in restricting the virus that flooded her being. She still retained her rapid healing ability, unfortunately. There would be no easy escape for her.

  ***

  After showering, Orcha pondered her reaction to Torin’s ministrations. The last time she’d experienced ecstasy, she’d shifted and murdered. She’d never expected to feel pleasure again—not without turning into a monster.

  She also hated to admit that coming had lifted a tension within her. How could a climax ease her mind and body so easily?

  Was she just that weak minded that the touch of another man could wreak havoc on her sensibilities?

  She was also disturbed that he’d managed to arouse her without traditional lovemaking. He had not touched her in love, though it was obvious that with binding her, he had been aroused. For him, it seemed almost as much as if she’d touched him with her willing hands and lips.

  She’d heard tell that his kind enjoyed sexual pursuits, but it was more mythos—she’d thought—than anything with any truth to it. Having experienced just a taste of what he had to offer, she was curious what else he could do. She also wondered why he had not satisfied himself. Surely he would tonight?

  The thought was enough to make her stomach flutter with nervousness.

  Orcha mentally kicked herself for being a weak willed female with only fucking on the brain. She was better than this—better than the wants and desires of an achy pussy.

  It took time for Orcha’s fine dreads to dry. She idly twisted them under the heat blower, ignoring Torin’s movements as he readied himself for the party. It seemed other than fighting gladiator games, his kind had little else to entertain themselves on this strange planet.

  She should pity him and the others. If she could be bothered to care.

  Orcha recognized the change in her personality and despised it, but the death of her lover by her own hand had scarred her forever. Thoughts of revenge on the man who’d infect
ed her were ever present in her mind—along with guilt. There was not much in the world that could alleviate either from her heart, and she couldn’t be bothered to even try and move on. For her, happiness ended when she changed into a monster and destroyed the man who loved and trusted her.

  Elgir deserved to die for what he’d done to her and caused her to do.

  She knew he was responsible for her infection. He was obsessed with her. She’d spurned him repeatedly, and yet, he’d persisted on harassing her at every opportunity.

  Orcha had become sick after Elgir mandated everyone that worked for him receive a nanoshot for immunization. She thought the weeks of illness she’d suffered had been a result of her body adjusting. It could not be a coincidence that she shared the lupine virus the same as he—they all knew he and others of his clan could change into wolfmen.