Surrendered Read online

  This had all been done on Greed’lik’s advice—a little show for Thorn’s soon-to-be Mistress’s benefit. According to the intelligence gathered by the Kindred, Mistress Neh’sanna took on only the biggest, the strongest, and the fiercest slaves.

  Thorn had hoped that by catching her attention early with the angry display he and Greed’lik put on, he would make an impression on her.

  “Zzhe will not be able to put you from her mind,” the Horvath had promised. “When the zzilent auction startzz, she will bid only on you, Commander Thornx.”

  A show of defiance had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time but now the male beside him was telling him that the other slaves wanted to be here. Could that be right?

  Thorn looked around at the other males on display. Almost all of them looked nervous or anxious but now he saw what he had missed earlier—their faces were also filled with a painful kind of hope. They didn’t fear a future under the rule of a Yonnite Six Mistress—they longed for it.

  How strange! How could any male long to submit that way? He remembered the thick black strap-on phallus he’d seen Mistress Neh’sanna wearing in the holo Commander Sylvan had shown him before he had accepted this task. He hoped he wouldn’t have to endure penetration with that beast during his mission, though if he did, he would count it just another form of torture. But how could any male long for that? Long to spread his thighs and allow his Mistress…

  His thoughts broke off when the attendant standing at the tall double doors that led into the slave auction space blew a single, high blast on a marrow-horn. The sweet, silvery note seemed to echo against the high ceiling and all the males shifted, getting into position for the entrance of the Mistresses.

  Thorn saw most of them strike poses to better display their bulging muscles. The male beside him swept his long black hair over one shoulder as anxiously as any female getting ready for her first public ball.

  Pathetic. Thorn simply stood there and waited. Though his hands were tied behind his back, his pose was relaxed yet alert.

  Soon enough he saw her. He’d gotten only a blurred impression before but now he had to admit, she was a beautiful woman. Petite yet perfectly formed with lush curves, Mistress Neh’sanna came striding confidently through the double doors looking like she owned the place.

  She was wearing a pair of tight white trousers and a flowing white shirt to match, open to reveal just a hint of cleavage. A black corset cinched her waist, emphasizing the fullness of her breasts and hips. It matched the black boots with impossibly high heels she wore.

  Thorn found that he couldn’t stop looking at her. The holo Commander Sylvan had showed him didn’t do her justice. She had creamy skin and large, dark eyes fringed thickly with long black lashes. Her face was exquisite—like a doll’s face made by a master craftsmen, from her delicate nose to her full red lips. A waterfall of wavy black hair fell to the small of her back, swishing with her confident strides. Thorn’s hands, still tied behind his back with the unbreakable leather-steel bands, itched to touch those silky strands.

  Stop it, he told himself harshly. She might look beautiful but she’s cruel, like all the Yonnite Mistresses. She’s as deadly as the blood snails they used on you on Tantor Prime.

  He lifted his gaze and ignored her even as he saw the males around him trying their best to get her attention.

  Mistress Neh’sanna would come to him. He had seen the wide-eyed looks of all the Mistresses as Greed’lik led him struggling and shouting into the auction room. Though he hadn’t gotten a very good look at Neh’sanna’s reaction to their little show, he knew she had seen him. He had made an impression and she was said to enjoy a challenge—she would come.

  * * * * *

  Neh’sa lifted her chin as she strolled into the grand auction hall. It was decorated in a most gaudy fashion with every spare inch gilded or draped in gold cloth, but she didn’t care about the décor. What she was here for was to find her next project—a male she could train to be a true, whole-hearted submissive.

  It should have been a good day. She had already purchased some of the rare Druvian E’lo stones for her collection and the seller had promised they would be shipped to her in short order. Also, the choices at the silent slave auction were said to be uncommonly fine. But despite all that, there was a cloud on Neh’sa’s heart. There always was on the day she had to let one of her well-trained submissives go.

  Lo’im. She sighed her latest submissive’s name to herself sadly. She’d had him for a year—she had bought him at this very auction an entire cycle ago. Because the slaves sold here were willing and eager to serve, it was the best place to find new submissives. And Lo’im had been one of the best she had ever trained.

  Neh’sa only took on one male at a time and she was very particular about who she chose to train. The male she chose had to be a perfect physical specimen –both large and strong because he would be charged with protecting his Mistress’s life as well as serving her every whim. The ideal submissive must also be willing and eager to please—a male who longed to devote his life to one female alone and to serve her until his dying breath. He would be owned by her, body and soul, and he must have no shame or reservations about it.

  Lo’im had been such a submissive—one eager to live and die for the right Mistress. Neh’sa had matched him with the perfect owner—Lady Tandy, a young woman of the upper class of Yonnie Six who had never owned a body-slave of her own before. She was quiet and shy but sweet—not a sadist like many Yonnite Mistresses who pushed the button on their slave’s pain collar the minute any little thing displeased them.

  Neh’sa refused to sell to those kinds of women—the sadists or the jaded, rich snobs who only wanted one of her well trained submissives—“Neh’sa’s boys” as they were called—as a status symbol.

  In the same way she took care what males she chose to train, she also took care which Mistresses they went to. And she made the women who got her trainees sign life-long contracts promising never to sell them and never to use pain collars or other agony-causing devices.

  That was not to say that pain had no place in the training and maintaining of a male submissive. Neh’sa was no stranger to the whip, the crop, the flogger, and the cane. But there was a time and a place for such things—they must be used judiciously and in the proper way.

  True devotion and submission came through love and loving punishment, not hatred or sadism or the bored and petulant application of the pain collar. True submission had to be earned.

  Neh’sa loved all of her submissives in her way, though she never allowed her emotions to carry her too far. After all, she had only a single cycle with each one before he must be given to another so there was no point in losing her heart. Once, long ago, she had made that mistake and the pain she still felt when she remembered that time had been her reward.

  It was better to train slaves for other Mistresses and not allow herself to get emotionally attached. Though she would miss Lo’im, she would be proud to give him to his new Mistress during the Devotion Ceremony later. The two of them would make an excellent couple.

  Still musing over Lo’im and Lady Tandy, she strolled around the broad, circular stage, looking over the slaves for sale.

  There were no more than twelve males assembled on the stage this time—a smaller number than the year before. Well, no matter—all she needed was one as long as he was the right one. But so far none of them was catching her eye, though many were trying to.

  She saw how they posed, putting their muscular bodies on display, begging to be chosen. They kept their eyes cast down, barely daring to look at her modestly from under their lids as she passed them, making her way in a circle around the round auction stage. They were all prime physical specimens, their muscles bulging, their cocks long and hard between their spread thighs. Even the smallest of them was on the large side—the better to bring honor to a Mistress who wished to display only the finest male as her body-slave.

  Neh’sa stalked around the stage, t