Nyssa's Guardian

by Reese Gabriel

  Un-suctioning her before he could give into the urge for immediate release, he made his inquiry. “Your bed, Nyssa, where is it?”

  Her pale, blue-green lips were wet with saliva. It took a moment for her mouth to form the words. “Up the stairs.”

  Theron glanced at the circular crystallite staircase in the middle of the room. Colored sunlight shone on it from various prism-shaped portals. “And your objectifier?” he inquired.

  Her voice trembled just a little. “In the corner, over there.”

  He smiled. She was imagining the sort of things he might make to torture her with. “I will be up those stairs in a quarter interval,” he informed her. “I expect to walk in and see you ass up, facedown on the mattress.

  She lowered her head, her hair falling over her breasts, her hands still bound. “Yes, Theron.”

  Stars—he wanted her badly. “Wait,” he commanded.

  The kiss was intended as a prelude, a tease, something for her to think about while he prepared himself. As it was, it proved a profound reintroduction, the speaking of two souls. Nyssa melted against him on tiptoes, body obediently and lustily pressed, giving full indication that he was her man, as much as a free spirit like hers could belong to any man. His own body accepted every bit of her, as did his soul. Rejecting her, turning her away was not in his bones.

  Or his genes, at least according to Dekalia and Morax. For a split second he envied Nyssa for being able to know her biological parents. Who had sired him? He knew only that his was the best blood, the finest of genetic combinations. He’d been made for destiny—made for Nyssa.

  “Go,” he ordered, gently enough.

  She pleaded with her eyes. She wanted to be fucked now. On the couch, on the floor, whatever he might choose.

  “No,” he said, indicating he knew her thoughts. “You will obey me.”

  She drew a ragged breath and attached herself in protest, her open mouth suckling his breast, teeth nibbling, the full measure of female power. Admittedly it was difficult, but self-denial had its rewards. Including the punishment of disobedient little fems.

  Leaving her in place, he cupped his hand for a swift, low smack, on the curve of her ass, just beneath where her tied hands were fretting, fingers interlaced. Another spank for good measure and he had her attention.

  “Where do you belong right now?”

  She grimaced slightly from the pressure of his thumb and forefinger, pinching her warm ass cheek. “In bed…”

  “In what position?”

  “Ass up,” she panted, “face down.”

  “Does this hurt, Nyssa?” He twisted his fingers a tiny bit.

  “Y-yes.”

  “Makes your pussy drip, too, though, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes…”

  “What are you going to do when I let go?”

  “I’m going…to bed.”

  “Correction—you’re going to run to bed.”

  “Yes,” she promised.

  He decided to give her a dose of her own medicine first, lowering his head onto her nipple. She screamed from the sensation as he showed her how a primale suckled, tasting, devouring, chewing, biting, taunting, arousing. The nipple drew itself into his mouth. His…

  “Go,” said Theron when he had taken his fill.

  Nyssa staggered, flush, bound, a hickey on her left breast. One final stern look told her to move fast, in spite of her wooziness. He made a point of enjoying her ass jiggling up the stairs, her breasts shaking. Were she his woman, he would never let her wear clothes inside.

  Then again, she was his woman, wasn’t she?

  Theron went to the beveragator on the wall next to the objectifier. Scanning the selections, he chose a bourbon blueberry beer. He hated these retro drinks, and personally he doubted that the ancients had ever put all their alcohol types together into single beverages, but the choices were limited. He needed a little something to still his nerves. And keep his orgasm at bay. He wanted to enjoy Nyssa his first time back and at this rate he would be coming in ten seconds flat. The woman was just too hot, too entirely sexually stimulating for him.

  The bourbon tasted like shuttle lubricant. Where the fuck was the blueberry? Sighing, he moved to the objectifier. He had some special items in mind, a few goodies he was pretty sure Miss Nyssa had never experienced. Before this day was done, he vowed, he would turn her inside out.

  Then they would handle the tough part. Talking about the future.

  * * * * *

  Nyssa’s submissiveness lasted until she got to the bed. One look at the soft, comfy surface, her sanctuary away from all the troubles and demands of the world reminded her of what was really at stake here. This wasn’t about her pussy. It was mind control. Theron teaming up with Morax and Dekalia to chain her down and make her into whatever they wanted her to be.

  Theron’s mate. What a nightmare. There would be no end to it—being told what to eat and think and wear. The man was an egomaniac! She couldn’t let her loins trick her. Sure, it might be hot to imagine Theron ordering her about like an obedient, treasuring and possessing her like the ultimate female pet, but that was hardly in her best interest in the real world. How could they expect her to be a strong, free-thinking Councilor, anyway, if she was matched with a man who could make her crawl and beg at his slightest word or gesture—a man whose life, whose soul was coming to feel more and more entwined with her own, and she was finding it hard to know where he left off and she began?

  She would have to make a stand. Here and now. For starters, she would free her hands. She gave herself a minute to wriggle. No go. Okay…so he was good with knots. There were laser scissors in her bureau, though. And failing that, the utility laser in the hygiene room. If she could find a way to grab it with her hands. She was working on opening the bureau drawer with her teeth when Theron walked in.

  “You really don’t learn, do you?”

  She froze. Her mouth over the knob. He sounded amused enough, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of mayhem over her poor little body. This could all have been avoided if she had left her room in another style—say modern Zalotian, which featured vertical spikes, sharp as knives. Then she would be free by now, and out the window.

  “Or should we assume that you are further refining your oral technique?”

  Nyssa let go of the knob. “Don’t play with me, Theron. If you’re going to punish me, just do it.”

  That really wasn’t a smart thing to say, she decided.

  Theron hooked a finger directly into her pussy, pulling her back. She shuddered, moving along the carpeted floor. “I blame myself.” He turned her around to face him.

  She gasped at the sight of him splendidly naked. She had missed him so much, his body, the way he smelled, the perfect lines of his muscles. No finer man had ever been designed. And according to her biological parents, he had been designed with her in mind. For maximum physical and mental compatibility.

  Shows you just how fucked up genetic science can be.

  “I allowed you too much freedom,” he continued, running his hand lightly but insolently down her body. “Naughty little fems like you shouldn’t have too much freedom, should they?”

  Any resistance she might have offered died as he found her clitoris. He could make her do or say anything now. “No,” she whispered.

  “They need bondage. And discipline.”

  “Yes,” she sighed, betraying herself.

  Theron freed her hands, child’s play to a primale. “There’s a collar on the bed,” he instructed. “And a leash. Fetch them.”

  Nyssa did as she was told, not stopping to rub her tingling wrists. There was no option of delaying his will. This was sheer control he was exercising. Direct mind fuck. Her knees nearly gave out when she saw what was on the bed. A metal-studded leather paddle. A series of silver clamps with dangling chains. A bit and bridle, woman-sized. A horsehair tail, attached to a handle. Scratch that—attached to a plug, like the one she’d had in her ass. And a thin, leather, dia
mond-studded collar attached to a delicate silver leash. It was exactly the sort of thing one might use on a poodle.

  “I’m waiting, Nyssa.”

  Reaching out, she snatched the collar. She half-expected it to burn in her fingers. Seconds later, she was presenting it. To him…the man engineered to complement her heart. And possess her flesh.

  “Arch your neck.”

  Nyssa exposed her delicate throat. Theron’s powerful hands, large, capable and more than a little arousing, closed in, holding the collar. He affixed it, buckling the strap. She held her breath as the sensations traveled down her torso. Tickling. Mildly constraining.

  Theron dangled the leash between her breasts. The handle grazed her vulva. Instinctively, her pussy muscles clenched.

  “You look pretty this way,” Theron praised.

  Nyssa hated herself for drinking in the humiliating compliment, for needing more.

  “On the bed,” he ordered, “on all fours.”

  Nyssa put herself in place, facing the wall. He made her wait in silence. She could hear him behind her, but she couldn’t see. His soft, full breathing filled the air. Was he doing something? Or just looking at her? She shifted, squirming. The room was cloyingly hot. Sweat collected on her skin. Her thighs were miserably slick. She was painfully aware of her pussy lips—painful and cum-soaked—a total invitation to Theron’s worst depravities.

  He must think I want this, all of it…

  “There are a lot of things you don’t know about primales,” he said, his hand suddenly on her ass, caressing it. “Intimate things. Were you an obedient, you would have been trained.”

  Nyssa relished the irony, even as she melted at his touch. For all intents and purposes she was an obedient. At least to him.

  “Primale sexuality is designed for lifemating.” He ran a finger around the edge of her throbbing pussy and then her puckered asshole. “We can find relief prior to that, but we don’t mature until we are matched. Part of maturation involves multiple orgasms. When I am inside you, Nyssa, I will climax consecutively, three, maybe four times.”

  Nyssa grew weak. She would never hold up to that kind of assault.

  “In order to achieve this level of build-up, we must feel the complete submission of the partner.” He smacked her ass. Hard.

  She rocked forward, moaning, as if penetrated.

  “You will do that for me. You will submit. Even as you take your punishment.” He had the paddle. It was as long as her lower arm, about two inches wide, an inch thick. She shivered as he dotted her spine with the studs, running it down the length of her back. She arched expectantly, like a cat being scratched.

  The hard thwack on her ass caught her off-guard, reminding her quickly just how little control she had. He hit her twice more. Pure pain. Then he took her cunt with his hand.

  “You feel what I want you to.” He explained the lesson. “You trust me where your sex is concerned.”

  Oh, stars, did she dare?

  He reached around and tapped the paddle on her belly. The leather and the studs made her cringe with arousal. When he slapped the sides of her breasts she went into orbit. “You’re trying to hold out,” he laughed. “Don’t you realize I haven’t even started?”

  “Theron…it’s difficult…”

  “No, it’s not.” His fingernail found her clit, isolating it. “It’s pretty fucking simple. You give me everything you have, and after that I find even more.”

  Her fingers clutched at the mattress. She shook to the core, giving in to the small, but toe-curling, orgasm. The paddle exploded somewhere in the middle, between the bursts of pure, womanly passion. “Did I say you could come?”

  “N-no.”

  He was pulling back on the leash, pressing the heel of his hand into her spine. “Orgasms are mine. You have them with me, when I say.”

  She thought of the belt and the iron grate. The way it had made her feel. At once so violated and protected. Such a complicated mix. And come to think of it, why was he talking about things like they were going to have a tomorrow…like they were going to do this ever again?

  “Too much freedom,” he hissed. “Still.”

  Now it was the bit inserted into her mouth, the harness over her head, secured by leather straps. She shook with fury and rage…and fucking horniness. He whacked her back into line with the paddle. Deprived of voice, she whimpered for him to finish her off. Shove his cock into her, to make her his beloved possession, his sex slave.

  But Theron had only begun his sadistic games. “Open wide,” he teased, pushing the horsetail up her shapely posterior. To her shame, she took it all the way, her anal opening clinging, drawing it in.

  “Good girl.” He patted her down.

  The horsey idea gave her a wicked thought. She couldn’t call him a fuckhead—but she could sure show him. And what better way to get into the game than by bucking?

  Even the paddle didn’t slow her. She just took the pain, working it into her contortions. And when he finally gave up and pushed her facedown, she outwitted him yet again by plunging her own finger into her pussy. She would show him she was a woman, a fem, still, and not any silly, mindless girl…

  The stolen orgasm felt good…almost as good as knowing she had defied the all-powerful primale. Again. Oh, she would pay for it, but that would be fun, too.

  Theron flipped her over, onto her horsey ass. Straddling her middle, he said the fateful words. “Take them.”

  By this he meant the clamps…

  Hands on either side of her head, as docile as if she were chained this way, she waited for him to affix the nasty silver devices. They were like the clothespins, only colder. He had the added advantage of the connector chain, which he could pull.

  She chomped down on the bit as he stretched her sensitive flesh.

  “I didn’t only dream about you, you know,” he chose this opportune moment to tell her, “I masturbated over you.”

  His hard cock was resting on her belly. She could feel its heat. She wanted it inside her. That was all the “punishment” she needed.

  “I’ve never done that over any other woman.”

  She had masturbated for him, too. Long into the night, after the robot had done its best to slake her seemingly unquenchable desire. Her weakness and devotion for Theron was something she could not admit, though—not to him, or to her parents.

  What a position she found herself in. Too afraid to admit just how far gone she was for the man, and yet completely unable to ever let him go. The very idea of him being with another woman, in fact, filled her with a rage the likes of which she had never known.

  “There was so much I imagined doing to you,” he licked his lips, “this was one of those things.”

  Nyssa forced herself not to resist. He had no idea what a test of will this was for her. He was putting the second set of clamps on her labia.

  “Oh, yeah…that’s it.”

  She shook her head…no this was not it.

  “So fucking hot…” He tugged both chains at once.

  Nyssa writhed, experiencing meteor showers of sex-pain.

  “Orgasm for me,” he commanded. “Show me.”

  His words touched her like a cattle prod. He didn’t need to be in her pussy. Just his orders, the feel of the clamps, and his irresistible body above her were enough. And the whole time she was soaring, cutting through the black air of desire, he was talking to her, telling her his deep-space fantasy, which he was about to realize.

  From the heaviness of his breathing and the rubbing of his cock on her belly, she knew he was getting off as he spoke.

  “In your ass,” he groaned, “with your pussy and sweet nipples clamped down, on your belly, fucking helpless, I take you in the ass. I pump and I pump. You’re so fucking tight. Your ass…so fucking perfect. Your body, so creamy smooth…you’re just lying there, taking it for me, and I come and I come, all that hot semen for you, only for you…shot right up your asshole, until you can’t hold any more.”

 
Nyssa couldn’t stand it. Just do it, she thought. Do what you dreamed…use me like you want. She begged with her eyes, wild and willing…beyond abandon.

  Theron’s eyes turned to raw fire in recognition of their mutual desire. “Yes…” he vowed. He couldn’t flip her over fast enough. Pulling the horsetail out of her, he scooped some of the liquid from her pussy. Using this as lubricant, he forged the way for penetration. “Wanna…fuck you…so bad,” he declared in stabbing breaths.

  Nyssa delighted in his loss of articulation. She had him right where she wanted him—out of his mind with lust. For her. “My ass, Theron…fuck it…” She might well have added only my ass, never anyone else’s again, but he probably understood that.

  Not that she could be held later to anything said now in the heat of the moment.

  Theron entered her, crying out in savage delight. Even in his mad passion, however, he was careful to reduce the size of his cock so as not to hurt her. That was how she knew she could let go and scream for him to do his worst—because she was so sure that he would never, ever harm her.

  Ravishing her, however, was another story. Grabbing her hair he pushed down, as much as she could take. The clamps, meanwhile, bit into her nipples and pussy lips. Her entire body was lit with fire—filled, invaded, under glorious primale attack. His execution was flawless, moving just slow enough to go deep. Nyssa gave him the space, opening her body in infinite trust. He pushed her to pain but not beyond—never more than exceeded the countervailing pleasure.

  Pulling back halfway, he pushed down again. Taking more. The decision was not hers. How long she would be fucked. How deep. Her pussy liquefied all over again at the realization. She was his erotic prisoner.

  In and out, again, still staking territory. Oh, stars, she groaned, this was only the beginning. The man was only warming up. His cock was getting bigger, too, giving her no quarter. A man like this could fuck ten fems like her in a night. A sobering thought, and a little nerve-racking. Lucky her, she had been made the focus of his energy. Born that way, in fact.

  Like a lion, he began to roar. She feared he would push her through the mattress, but again he knew exactly how much force to apply. Just enough for her to know he was a man and she was a woman. A man fucking like a piston while she pushed her ass up for more. He responded by spanking her, taking her to the next level of nirvana.