Checkmate (9 page)

“Some sense of strategy, anyway,” Raje commented. “Let’s see
what else they’ve got.” He charged toward a machine that was marginally closer
to him than the others. As he approached, all of the machines pivoted. A small
tube emerged from the side of each, all pointing at Raje. A few steps farther,
the one closest to him and the one next to it both emitted humming sounds and
then burped more loudly. Raje yelped and jumped backward. “Yeoowch.”

“What happened? Are you hurt?” She charged toward him.

“They bite.”

“What?”

“They throw off some kind of charge. Electrical, I guess,
since it feels like a shock. Not serious, but it stings.”

They watched the machines for a few moments, wondering what
to do. But the robots themselves made the next move. They began to roll toward
them again. Not wanting to be shocked, Raje and Devonne retreated toward the
one side that wasn’t blocked off. After a few steps Raje stopped. “They’re
trying to force us back to the wall where they can corner us against it.”

“Not a good idea. Guess we see how bad they can zap us.”

“Let’s go.”

Running together they sprinted for the nearest gap between
two of the machines. Devonne was still surprised by how quickly they turned and
aimed, but only the two on either side of the gap fired at them. A burning spot
on her leg signaled where a beam had connected with her. It would take quite a
few of those to cripple her.

The machines turned and came after them, of course. The two
humans spent a few minutes running around the field being chased by the robots.
The crowd cheered and jeered.

“We need a better strategy,” Raje said as they stopped to
gather breath. He looked down at the rod he held. “They gave us these. There
must be something we can do with them.”

“Smash the things? They look pretty resilient.”

“Yeah.” Raje studied the machines and then the questionable
weapon he held. “There’s got to be a reason these are metal. I’m guessing
there’s some place you can touch on those machines that will make them arc and
short out.”

“Finding it won’t be fun. Take turns?”

“I was going to suggest you try to divert them.”

“No way and it won’t work.”

He shrugged. “Ladies first then? I’d suggest starting low.”

Devonne took the first try, lunging toward the nearest of
the robots and quickly scanning the surface for any place that looked like a
possible weakness. She jammed the rod toward a seam in the plating as the
machine zapped her. The touch of the rod had no effect on the machine.

She expected it to work on the very first try? Well, yes.

She jumped backward before it could shock her again. Raje
had no more success on his first foray.

Ten minutes into their efforts, the shocks grew stronger.
They’d also tried out every likely spot on the bottom two-thirds of the
machines. Those zaps could get bad enough to cause serious trouble if they
didn’t stop the machines soon. Raje’s expression turned grim.

In fact, it took almost fifteen minutes before Devonne found
the vulnerable spot on the machines, almost by accident. After a jolt knocked
Raje off his feet, she ran forward to help and used her rod to knock away the
turret turning toward them. The pole slid down the bottom of the protrusion and
knocked against the opening in the casing below it. A loud buzzing and a shower
of sparks preceded the machine shutting down entirely.

“Damn,” Raje said. “Good shootin’, Tex.”

“Thanks. It’s right beneath the little turret that fires at
us.”

They wasted no time in disposing of the rest of the machines
and accepted the applause of an appreciative audience afterward.

* * * * *

The next day was a repeat of the sixth day, but with the
roles reversed. She got to be the dominatrix this time. Instead of a word to
get from him, her goal was to induce him to crawl across the platform, bringing
her a shoe—in his mouth. She laughed out loud at the mental image the words
conveyed. He wouldn’t like it. She did. The dominant role suited her much
better than the submissive one.

Devonne loved the outfit they provided for her this time—all
black leather, with solid, body-hugging pants, spike-heeled knee boots and a
top that was nothing but a few straps just barely covering her breasts.

“Look out, Raje, here I come,” she said to herself as she
stepped out onto the field. The sight of him approaching drew a sharp breath
from her. “Oh, my.” He wore nothing but a thong and the same cuffs circling
wrists, ankles and neck she’d worn when playing the submissive role. As she’d
expected, he didn’t look happy about it, but that might have been in the
interests of the show more than letting his true feelings come out. She
suspected his reactions were more real than he’d let on. The exhibitionist
showman didn’t care for being anyone’s whipping boy, and it showed, though he
tried to make the performance flamboyant anyway. Giving up control didn’t come
easily to him.

The equipment provided was the same as the day she’d played
submissive. She ignored the chair and led him straight to the metal frame where
she released his wrists so she could lift his arms and attach the hooks to the
chains dangling. “Are you okay?” she asked him quietly in the process.

“Hell no. But I’ll manage. Feel free to hit as hard as you
like. Might be good anyway. All for the show.”

“Same deal as last time. ‘Too much’ makes me pull back.”

He gave a small nod. Devonne went to the table and picked up
one of the more sensuous looking floggers. It had a handle with a fall of a
dozen or so leather tails eighteen inches long. She tried it on her own palm
and found it less stinging and more just tingly than she expected.

She couldn’t resist kissing him and running her hands down
his body before she did anything else. The tiny scrap of fabric that covered
his erection bulged in a way that proclaimed his arousal clearly enough. She
loved the solid feel of him, the body that had pleasured hers so often. She
loved the man, too, with all his strengths and weaknesses. Too bad some of
those likely stood in the way of anything more between them.

Having him at her mercy like this aroused her, bringing the
heavy tension to her cunt. She could have him in any way she wanted, do
anything she wanted with him. A dizzy shiver passed through her as she
considered the power she had. Might as well enjoy it now since it was destined
to be very temporary.

That thought brought enough frustration to lead her to step
back and try an experimental slash with the flogger across his chest. He
watched her steadily with no show of reaction, not even a jerk or wince, though
the tails left faint pink trails on his flesh. Several more slaps brought
little more emotion. He winced when one of her strokes caught his nipple.

She stopped and said, aloud, “You know what service you’re
supposed to do for me?”

He nodded. “Something about crawling to you.”

“And bringing a shoe. Are you ready to do it?”

His smile combined anger, disbelief, and defiance with a
pure erotic challenge that left her breathless. “Not likely.”

“Then I’ll have to be more convincing,” she answered.

“If you can.” The challenge was open and deliberate.

It’s all about the show
, she reminded herself. It
didn’t stop the frisson of annoyance and determination that made her straighten
her back.
If I can, indeed
.

She struck him harder across the chest, leaving a few light
welts. Moving behind him, she assailed his back and buttocks until the flesh
there had a pink tinge as well. The crowd roared approval.

She set down the flogger and tried one of the leather
paddles. It made a much louder
crack
when it hit the skin and raised
welts easily. The noise and its effects on him concerned her. Despite his
goads, she worried about actually hurting him. She needn’t have.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he jeered after a few more smacks
of the paddle. “You’ll be a long time convincing me to do anything.” It drew
cheers and laughter from the audience.

She recognized what he was doing and still reacted. She put
back the paddle, picked up the crop and swung it hard. It made a nasty
thwack
on his buttocks and left a pink line that rose into an impressive weal.

Raje actually sucked in a sharp breath. “Closer,” he said.
“But still not there.”

He really wanted her to hit him harder? It had to be hurting
him now. Memory teased her. When the positions were reversed, he’d combined the
pain with sexual teasing. It had brought her to the point of madness.

Payback was going to be fun.

She set aside the crop for a moment and plastered herself up
to his back. Reaching around, she played with his nipples for a bit, tweaking
and twisting them until he groaned. The uniquely personal aroma of Raje filled
her nostrils, and his silky dark hair brushed against her face. Her own
internal temperature level was climbing. His breath hitched when her hands slid
down his chest and along his stomach to his groin. She cupped the bulge under
the front of the thong and worked it with her fingers.

It took an effort to make herself stop when she realized he
was on the verge of coming.

She moved him to the bench and laid him on it, faceup with
his arms and legs pulled down at the sides and held there by chains linked to
the cuffs. Using a knife she found—rather alarmingly—on the table, she slit the
band of the thong and pulled it off him. His cock spring free. Devonne selected
a heavier looking flogger than the previous one and approached him, eyeing his
erect penis. A sharp breath sounded almost like a sob. It wasn’t acting,
either. He hadn’t bargained on this.

“Are you ready to consider crawling?” she asked.

“Only after you.” He tried for cocky and didn’t quite bring
it off this time. The genuine worry in his tone indicated concern about what
she intended. His erect cock showed he was turned on by it as well.

“You’ll do better than that.” She moved to stand over him.

The expression on his face slammed into her with devastating
effect. Light green eyes met hers, and in them she saw apprehension…and trust.
His lips curved into that wicked, goading grin. “Make me.”

She held the flogger over his chest and let the ends trail
over his pectoral muscles and nipples. The leather strips brushed along his
abdomen to his cock. He sucked in a harsh breath as it moved down to his balls,
left open to her touch since his legs were spread apart by the bench.

Elation surged through her yet again. The crowd began to
chant something, apparently becoming impatient.

She raised the flogger and slapped it down across his chest.
He drew a sharp breath. A network of pink weals formed. She leaned over him
with the pretense of licking his nipples but took the opportunity to tell him
quietly, “Less stoicism. More yells.” Acknowledgement came as a slight nod.

The next time she struck his belly with the flogger, he did
indeed shout. It wasn’t terribly convincing to her but the crowd bought it.
They cheered gleefully.

Moving down, she flicked the insides of his thighs, then
rubbed the pink spots left with her palm. He groaned and squirmed—much more
naturally this time. She trailed the ends of the flogger over his penis. Sweat
had begun to form on his face and strain pulled his features tight. She touched
the top of his cock and ran a finger down it to his balls. It drew a loud moan.

“Are you ready to crawl yet?” she asked.

“No.”

She sat in the chair for a couple of moments, doing nothing,
letting him cool off. Then she rose and picked up the crop. His eyes widened
and he drew a deep breath as she ran it down his chest to his cock. The tip of
the crop brushed up and down its length. She raised it and slapped it down on
the inside of each thigh, then again, moving higher each time. It left a ladder
of pink welts climbing each leg. His fingers curled into fists and his body
tensed. He groaned and yelled. Then she tapped his balls with it, just a light
slap, but he shouted—as much from fear as pain.

Several harsh breaths made his chest heave when he saw her
next target. She struck his abdomen, just above the tip of his cock and held
the crop poised a couple of inches lower for several seconds before she flicked
it down. He bucked and shouted. She followed it up by leaning over and tonguing
the area she’d hit.

“Ready to crawl yet?” she asked, straightening.

He shook his head.

Annoyance mixed with admiration for his courage. How far
would he push her?

More torment for him. Bending over, she put her tongue on
the inside of one knee and began to nip and kiss her way up the hairy expanse
of his inner thigh to his balls. She licked the marks left by the crop and bit
between them. Just before she hit the soft sac, she started again on the other
side. When she reached the top and flicked her tongue over his balls. His body
arched up from the bench. He muttered, “Powers and Flames, Devonne. Powers and
Flames, you’re driving me mad.”

“Ready to crawl yet?”

He hesitated, then shook his head again.

Damn the man.

She tapped his cock and balls steadily with the crop, not
hard enough to jolt or hurt him, but delivering numerous little stings. They
should drive him close to insanity. Occasionally the crop diverted to his
nipples and slapped them smartly or she would run it down onto his thighs. She
continued until he could no longer lie still and he groaned continuously.
“Please,” he begged loudly. “I can’t stand it. Please. Let me come.”

“Crawl for me,” she demanded.

“Yes!”

She released him from his bonds and watched him shakily get
down on his hands and knees. Making no move to help him, she pointed to the
shoe that had been left at the far side of dais. “Go get and bring it to me. No
hands. In your mouth.”