Nyssa's Guardian
Page 6
“Lick.”
Nyssa dabbed her small tongue hungrily. Her passion was craving it—the drama, the intensity, the sensation. She wet the crop down, every part of it he would give her.
“If you were an obedient,” he said, “and you had done what you did tonight, you would have gotten this right off. You would have been chained up naked, hands over your head on tiptoe, and you would have been thoroughly lashed…ass, back, breasts, and belly. Even your pussy.”
“I couldn’t have endured it,” she said hoarsely.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Nyssa.” He slapped the crop lightly on top of her clit, making her scream. “If you were an obedient, you would have begged for your punishment. Whatever the reason for displeasing me, you would come on your knees, naked. You would offer me the crop, and you would have no peace until it was done.”
“Tell me more,” she hissed, seeking entry into that dark, forbidden place.
“An obedient,” he lifted her chin with the tip of the crop, “is the extension of her dominant. He adores and treasures her above all else. He will accept nothing less from her than everything.”
Nyssa tensed. She heard the grate of the match lighting, the brief smell of sulfur. Once before, at a live performance she had seen one of those quaint devices. It had been used to light a candle. Candles were made of wax. Wax that softened when hot…
“And everything is what she gives. It is the deepest form of love. Stronger than any feat of primale strength. We would all do well to humble ourselves in the face of what obedients are capable of.”
Plink, came the first drop on her belly. Not burning, but hot enough. Nyssa gasped. “Theron?”
Drip, drip, two more, tiny tears of wax, splashing upon her defenseless body. Nyssa writhed in response. Theron continued the application, silent and thorough. Over her breasts, in the hollow of her belly button…and at the apex of her thighs, just above the soft pink folds of her sex.
A finger hooked inside her. Nyssa shivered. “Need to…”
“Come?” He supplied the missing word.
Plink, another drop. More wax? No, this dribbled across her thigh. By the universe, now he had the ice. He put it to her lips, wetting them.
“Mmm…”
Quickly, he slid the ice down to the hollow of her neck. Now he alternated, hot and cold, hot and cold. At a certain point, she could no longer tell the difference. Her body undulated in rhythm to the erotic assault. Skillfully, wickedly, he played her on the razor’s edge and then, when she was sure she could take no more, he withdrew his attentions.
Nyssa’s heart slammed in the blindfold-imposed darkness. She strained to hear him, some sign of his continued presence. “Theron?” she dared to whisper at last.
Nothing.
Emptiness, aching, terrible need. Tears filled her eyes. “Theron,” she called again.
He put his finger to her lips. “Hush.”
Her body leaped to his touch. “Yes…” she sighed, grateful.
Theron went to work again, playing with her body. Slow, steady massaging, picking up where he’d left off. “Do you enjoy that, Nyssa?”
“Yes, that’s it, don’t stop,” she pleaded shamelessly.
He withdrew his wet hand. Stars—how much more was she going to have to go though?
“I give the orders,” he waved his fragrant fingers under her nose for reminder, “and you submit.”
Nyssa inhaled her own heat. Her own desire.
“Open,” ordered Theron, giving Nyssa her own liquid to clean off his fingers.
She suckled hungrily, anxious to prove herself.
“Maybe I will let you come now,” he thought aloud. “Yes, in fact, I will.”
“Oh, thank you, Theron,” she said, jumping the gun.
“You might not want to thank me yet.” He tucked a few errant hairs behind her ear. “I intend to orgasm you with the crop.”
Nyssa swallowed hard. “The…crop,” she whispered.
“Yes.” He slashed the black crop through the air. “I will strike your pussy until you come for me.”
Nyssa recommenced struggling, the actions quite useless against her bonds. “You’re insane, Theron…you wouldn’t dare.”
“Lie still.” He delivered a single hit, measured, controlled, light, but more than enough to get her attention.
Her labia zapped as if electrified. Her pussy muscles clenched and unclenched, shamelessly accepting the stimulation, no matter what it was.
“You whipped my pussy, you asshole,” she swore at him, returning her ass back down flat to the bed as ordered.
Nyssa tried to comprehend the reality of it all. He’d done it…he really had, violating her in the most intimate way possible. And she was throbbing, unable to help wanting another in spite of the terrible sting.
Theron rubbed the tip of the crop lightly over her thrumming sex. “Before I am done,” he countered, “you will beg for it.”
“Never,” she vowed, instantly regretting her bravado.
Theron removed her blindfold. She squinted, readjusting to the light. The first thing she saw was the intensity of his features. It was a warrior’s expression, the look of a man who always got what he wanted, but appreciated a challenge when he could get it. “Tell me, Nyssa, do you consider the tongue a weapon?”
“With anyone else…no.”
His lips curled ever so slightly. Was it a sign of humor…perish the thought? Was there something under there after all—something human?
“I am going to remove the clamps now. You will feel some pain as the blood returns. Squeeze my hand if you like.”
“No.” Her sympathy for him evaporated on the spot. “I’ll handle it on my own,” she said stubbornly.
“As you wish.” Theron moved quickly, efficiently releasing one of the clamps. Nyssa shouted, stretching her fingers in his direction. He gripped them tightly.
“It’s all right,” he whispered in her ear.
She jerked her head away. “Stop trying to make me like you.”
Theron removed the second clamp. He was watching her closely. She could swear he was enjoying himself.
“Arrggh!” she protested. “Bastard!”
Theron applied his lips to the offended nipple. Nyssa’s breathless scream turned to a moan. He was awakening things in her that she never knew existed. How could this cold fish of a superman do more to her sexually than any of her hip mem playmates?
“You won’t be the same,” he promised, “after this.”
She already wasn’t the same.
Leaving her nipple exposed and wet, he moved to the other, kissing away the throbbing. Her pussy was in so much need it hurt and her nipples felt so much residual pressure it was more like a kind of cold ecstasy. He had played her so many ways by now—the ice, the wax. His hot hand. His cock.
“Theron, I need your cock… I’ll do anything,” she croaked.
“You will do anything already, Nyssa. Haven’t you figured that out?” Theron’s tongue dabbed at the valley between her breasts. Warm and teasing.
“Oh, baby…” she crooned.
He licked down her stomach, blazing a trail like invisible, cool fire. Her every nerve opened, surrendering. If only she could reach up to him, show him her needs, her desires. Not to mention how well she could please him.
“Theron, untie me… I’ll be good,” she pleaded.
“I think we’ll leave you as you are.” He patted her pussy. “You’re quite good like this.”
“Oh, stars,” she moaned. “Touch me, touch me more…do things to me.”
Theron obliged, though she was quite sure things were still on his timetable not hers. She bucked at the prickling sensation of his tongue parting her lips, tentatively parting them like a tiny cock.
“Remember,” he told her, “if you want to climax, you know what you have to do.”
She did? Theron flicked at her clit with his rolled-up tongue and it came flooding back to her. The crop. He intended to make her orga
sm with the device. If she wanted relief, she would have to take it with the stinging and degradation of the crop.
“Theron, if you let me go, I will let you do something to me,” she sought to bargain. “It’s something many men desire…but which I guard very closely.”
“If you are referring to your anal charms,” he paused, leaving her in the lurch yet again, “I got a good look at how you like to ‘guard’ them back at the Gas Emporium.”
Oh, hell. She had wanted Jolando in her ass when Theron had come barging in. How could she tell him it really was something rare, that she was only feeling horny that way because of the things he had stirred in her body? She didn’t dare give him any more power over her than he was already claiming.
“Besides,” he said smoothly, “do you think you could withhold from me anything I desired?”
He let her think about that as he lightly suctioned her clit between his lips.
“You…fucking…cocksucker,” she cried.
“You know what you need to do,” he repeated stubbornly, abandoning her.
“Stop doing that! Stop starting and stopping!”
“That is the idea of sexual torture. Tell me, Nyssa,” he seemed genuinely puzzled. “Why do you fight this so hard? There is no shame in admitting your defeat to me. I am primale, and I will take from you exactly what I wish. Owning and controlling the sexuality of females is in my nature.”
Now he’d done it, thrown down a gauntlet. “Not this female, buster.”
Theron caressed her full, aching breast as if it had been formed for his touch. He was not forceful or overbearing, but there was no mistaking the possessiveness of the touch. “Any female, Nyssa. You may be fem outside the bedroom, but in it, you are only another woman…to be tamed.”
He spared her the obscenity, moving to her lips for a kiss. It was a searing brand, molding to her, intensely deep, reflecting his more intimate having of her. Indeed, he knew her far better now, her body and her responses, strengths and weaknesses, and he was telling her this. She could only imagine what it might be like after knowing her a few more days…a week…a month.
Her breathing settled yearningly into his. She felt if he released her, she would die, but that was part of the game. The tease.
“Say it, Nyssa.” The words were breathed a bare millimeter from her face. Immediately, he took her mouth again.
This time penetrating her mouth. She let her tongue fence with his. The only part of her not tied down. A few precious seconds of playing, of secret communication and passion, the raw energy of nature, and he disengaged again.
“Say it,” he repeated.
Her head pounded with blood. Her whole body pounded. She was an enormous itch of need. Confusion and sheer wanting—any kind of stimulation now was better than none. “Wh…” Her mouth opened, forming the syllable.
“Tell me, Nyssa.” His eyes were expectant. How she longed to know what was behind them. To find some way to draw closer to his soul, even as she craved his flesh.
“My pussy,” she replied in utter sensual obliteration. “Whip my pussy.”
Theron sat up. With one hand grazing her nipple, the other gripping the crop, he began to tap down her belly. Her flesh undulated—good, tight, healthy motions along her genetically sculpted flesh. Every part of her itched and burned and shivered at once. She would have done anything, betrayed anyone for contact with her cunt. Her whole world was consumed with needing an orgasm. Her god, this primale who had vowed to push her to the very brink of oblivion.
“This is your moment of truth,” he declared, settling the crop over her crotch. “Time for you to open yourself…”
“I am, Theron, I couldn’t be more open,” she promised.
He slapped her pussy with the crop. Almost immediately the burning sting gave way to even deeper hunger, inducing a groan.
“You will hold nothing back,” he informed her.
“I’m not, I swear…”
A second thwack reduced her to crying whimpers. Her body was so confused, so utterly lost. What was good? What was bad? She knew only that she must have his attention—his further abuse, even, so long as he did not leave her alone.
“You are holding back,” he insisted. “It is written all over your face.”
“There’s nothing…”
Theron struck her breasts. “Lies mean pain, Nyssa. We can’t afford lies between us. A lie could cost your life. What if someone is really trying to kill you? How will I protect you?”
“What do you care?” Her eyes teared up, the emotion unexpected, complicated. “You hate me, anyway.”
“No. It is you who hate me. Why?”
“If you must know,” she spat, “my dearest cluster sister was an obedient. I watched a primale take her away, turn her into a robot.”
“Was she unhappy?”
“Of course she was. No woman wants to be dominated like she was. It was demeaning, humiliating. He treated her like…like a dog.”
“The primale way is to love with utter, complete devotion. As for domination—are you sure women hate it so?” He delivered a reminder swat with the crop.
“This doesn’t count…it’s under duress. Oh, fuck,” she groaned. “Why are you toying with me? Letting me fight you one minute and the next…”
“Overpowering you?” he supplied. “Perhaps I am teaching you something.”
“Yes…to be your little slave girl,” she retorted, the vehemence of her own emotions catching her off-guard.
“Does the idea repulse you?”
Nyssa flushed red, head to toe. “Of course it does, you pig…how can you even ask?”
“I misread your sexual responses, then?”
Another hit, a smooth efficient blow to make her pussy throb like mad. She had no immediate answer to this. She was aroused, that was the hell of it. But what was she upset about exactly? Did she want him to be less than a Master to her—a mere acquaintance or polite friend, or did she want something more, something intimate and romantic?
“You want to know why I toy with you?” he replied to her earlier question. “I might tell you it is part of your training. But that would not be the only reason. I do this, Nyssa, because I can. And you endure it, because you must.”
There was no apology in his voice, no hesitation. No boasting, either. It was a statement of fact, pure and simple. For the first time, she grasped just the tiniest bit of Theron’s true nature.
And it made her hornier than anything in her whole fucking life. “I really don’t stand a chance with you, do I?” she whispered, well aware that she was staring down a lion now, in dread fascination.
“In this arena? No.”
Her breathing was deep and full. “Take it from me, primale.” She arched her back, acknowledging his power. “Take it all…”
Chapter Six
Nyssa held her breath. The universe suspended itself. Now she’d gone and done it. Given him everything…
Theron had no problem receiving the offering. The crop came down in slow motion. A quick tantalizing snap. Followed by another and another after that, delivered across her pussy and inner thighs.
“In the morning, when you awake, what will you do?”
Nyssa knew what he was driving at. “I’ll…obey,” she panted. Her teeth gritted as she waited for another hit. Just a few more hits and she would be there. What was the bastard waiting for?
A fresh slap. Only one, not enough to finish it damn it.
“No,” he countered. “You’ll submit.”
“Yes, yes, I will…”
“For all intents and purposes, you will be an obedient.”
“An obedient…” she promised. “The most submissive ever.”
“When I let you climax,” he instructed, “you will writhe for me…you will show me Vonda.”
“Yes.” Did he like Vonda? she wondered. Or was he merely trying to humiliate her further? She wasn’t sure why she cared, but for some reason she did. “I’ll give you all…”
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nbsp; Theron applied the crop, simultaneously suckling her nipple. Her spine contorted to a picture of pure sex. Switching nipples, he cropped her again. She was feeling the tremors, on the verge of unstoppable.
“Now?” she asked.
His reply came in the form of a kiss, his tongue devouring and holding her completely. At the same time he moved his thumb for the coup de grâce. Nyssa saw the stars of the heavens, the galaxies, the light of every dome in the world. A constellation of exploding sex, living, pulsing sex, every bit of her tension and energy and frustration siphoned off, catalyzed and converted into body-rocking bliss.
He fucked and fucked with his hand. Her nerves coiled and uncoiled, the heat pooling in every soft and vulnerable part of her. The orgasm had no beginning, it had no end…it was everything.
She could never feel this with a mem. She could never trust one enough, never trust herself enough. She might end up dissipated, spilled into the void, never to find her way back. But he was there, standing with her, and over her. Fucking her without fucking her, being inside her head.
Nyssa continued to moan softly as the largest eruption passed. There were aftershocks, but the real damage was done. The real ripping open of her consciousness. How much of this would stick? Would she be stuck following his will like a zombie, after all?
For starters, would he release her from her bonds and maybe back off a little? Not that it mattered, as drowsy as she felt. Truly, she could melt into him at this point and feel none the worse for wear.
He stroked her hair, a benign enough gesture. After that, he worked on untying her ankles. What a figure he made as he moved. She took in his every motion in complete awe. The way he bent, the way his muscles worked, that little crease in his forehead as he concentrated. His hair was so completely inviting for female hands to run through. His nipples so in need of kissing. Tight, downward curling lips, so naturally begging for sweet, soft love to win them over…
But she shouldn’t think like this, she shouldn’t want him that way. Really, this whole night should not have happened.
Theron knelt over her and tenderly rubbed her ankles, making sure they had enough circulation.