Surrendered Read online

  “Frankly, yes. You’re at the top of this pyramid, Neh’sa—I would expect you to want to stay there.”

  For once she didn’t correct him for calling her by her first name. Instead, a thoughtful look came over her lovely face.

  “I wasn’t raised completely on Yonnie Six, you know. My mother inherited this position from a great aunt and moved us here when I was just ten cycles old. She thought it would be good for me since I was already exhibiting extremely…shall we say dominant personality traits.”

  Thorn grinned at her.

  “You were a little brat, weren’t you?”

  “I was more what you would call ‘bossy’ I suppose,” Neh’sa said thoughtfully. “I was always the head of any group, the president of any club, the leader on any imaginary expedition…” One corner of her lush mouth quirked up. “I used to organize games where the males had to crawl on the ground like yola-hounds, fetching sticks for the females, who were their masters. Things like that.”

  “I can see why your mother would think the life of a Yonnite Mistress would be a perfect fit,” Thorn said dryly.

  “It is…in a way.” Neh’sa sighed pensively. “But I’ve never forgotten my early upbringing. Lylas is a much more fair and even world, you know—probably because everyone can feel everyone else’s emotions.”

  “You’d have to be a sadist and a masochist to want to hit someone with a fire whip if you could feel their agony as your own when you did so,” Thorn growled.

  “Lylasians feel mostly emotional pain but still, it is enough to make you want to avoid causing that pain if you can help it. It’s one reason I try to be careful of what punishments I use,” she said seriously. “But I don’t avoid them altogether— Pain can be used as a tool—not just a weapon.”

  Thorn frowned. “How do you mean?”

  She shrugged her slim shoulders. “Just that sometimes physical pain can help to release emotional pain.”

  Thorn couldn’t argue with that. He remembered the feeling of needing an intense physical release the last time the fire had almost gotten away from him. Neh’sa had strapped him to the spanking bench and used the silver wand on him then, but would a fire whip across his shoulders and back have worked just as well to contain the flames within him?

  Thorn was pretty sure it would have.

  Sometimes the inner turmoil grew too great—it had to have an outlet. At least that was how he felt ever since Neh’sa had melted the emotional shields he’d held in place for such a long time.

  “Tell me, Neh’sa—do you feel every pain you inflict?” he asked curiously.

  “Oh yes. And some I have not inflicted.” She reached up and cupped his cheek in her small, cool palm. “Thorn, I felt the conflict in you when you saw that other slave being lashed. And I had a very strong feeling that you thought it was your fault somehow when you were whipped the same way. That you somehow…deserved it.”

  Thorn frowned and jerked away from her hand, straightening up to his full height so she couldn’t reach him.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Mistress,” he growled.

  “Yes, you do,” Neh’sa said quietly. “And if you ever want to talk about it, Thorn…I’m here.”

  “Speaking of here, is this the readiness room you were talking about?” he asked abruptly, indicating a small room at the end of the long corridor which appeared to be more brightly lit than the punishment areas they’d passed along the way.

  Neh’sa sighed. “Yes, it is. Let’s go in so I can put on your everlast. Then we’ll go around to the grand archway to be announced.”

  Thorn was glad his change of subject had worked. Despite Neh’sa’s kind offer to talk, he had absolutely no wish to relate his sordid past. Most of the time he was able to hide it, even from himself. It was just that sometimes, certain things brought it up. The fire whip—

  But no. Thorn pushed it from his mind as they walked into the small room which looked like a last minute dressing area for Mistresses and their body-slaves.

  There was already a Mistress there, wearing a bright green and silver dress which showed her breasts and panties. She was primping anxiously in front of one of the many 3-D viewers that lined one entire wall, trying to get her elaborate hairdo—which had been sculpted to look like an immense ocean wave—just right. Beside her, wearing a thick green collar which matched his Mistress’s dress, was a slave. He was sporting a fully engorged phallus constricted by a matching green band.

  “There, Milty—I think we’re ready,” the Mistress said to her slave who looked up at her adoringly. “Are you prepared to kiss my panties?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” her slave murmured. “I’ll be pleased to serve you in any way I can.”

  “Such a good body-slave.” The Mistress stroked his hair affectionately and he responded by rubbing against her hand, almost like a pet begging for attention.

  So apparently not every slave here was unhappy with his lot, Thorn thought as he watched the two greet Neh’sa and then exit the readiness room. There did exist loving and committed relationships in this strange society. They just weren’t often on display.

  “Now then,” Neh’sa murmured once they had privacy. “Let’s see what we have to work with.”

  She had Thorn stand in the middle of the room and removed the black loincloth he was wearing over his crotchless leather trousers as usual. Unfortunately, the scene they had witnessed in the punishment room with the fire whip and the sadistic Mistress had completely drained him of desire. After watching that, he felt like he might never get hard again.

  “Hmm.” Neh’sa frowned as she took his length in one small hand. “What we saw really bothered you didn’t it?” She looked up at Thorn speculatively. “Well let’s see if we can fix that.”

  “I can fix it myself if you’ll let me, Mistress,” he said quickly. He knew how important it was for a body slave to display an engorged phallus and he didn’t want to shame her in any way. He started to take himself in hand but the shocks of the non-contact bracelets stopped him. Even if they hadn’t, Neh’sa was already shaking her head.

  “No Thorn, I’m your Mistress. Allow me to take care of you.”

  “Yes Mistress,” Thorn murmured, wondering exactly how she was going to “take care of him.” He expected her to stroke him to engorgement, and indeed her soft little hands on him were incredibly arousing.

  Instead, Neh’sa dropped to her knees before him, heedless of her lovely gown. She looked up at him through the thick fringe of her black lashes.

  “I want to feel you grow hard in my mouth,” she said softly.

  “Gods, Mistress! You don’t have to—”

  She shook her head, silencing his protest.

  “Relax Thorn, and let me make you hard.”

  Thorn had to bite back a groan as she opened her lush mouth, glossy with deep red lip stain, and took his entire length between her lips at once. Her soft warm tongue bathed his cock, swirling around and around his shaft until he thought he would go crazy from the pleasurable sensation.

  Of course he didn’t stay soft for long. All thoughts of the fire whip and his tortured past faded and he felt a rush as his shaft began to fill. Soon he was achingly hard and Neh’sa was left sucking only the broad head of his cock.

  “Gods Mistress,” Thorn groaned again, daring to reach down and stroke her soft cheek as she sucked him and swirled the tip of her little pink tongue around his throbbing tip. “That feels incredible. Do other Mistresses do this for their body slaves?”

  “Not in public they don’t,” she murmured withdrawing at last. “Though I know many who indulge their… shall we say less than correct fantasies in the privacy of their own domiciles. But you may have noticed by now that I’m not exactly the typical Mistress.”

  She leaned forward again and pressed her lips to the side of his aching shaft, leaving a clear imprint of her lush lips in the red lip stain she wore.

  It’s like she’s fucking branding me, Thorn thought. If so it was a b