Mastering the Mistress (3 page)

Solar was in a tight spot and he knew it. But there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it—not right now, anyway. Lyra, the snub-nosed sadistic little shrew had him at gunpoint—or collar point to be more exact. She had the remote to that damn pain collar and as long as she did, he was stuck. His whole body was still tingling painfully from the last jolt she’d given him and that had only been at the medium setting. He didn’t even want to imagine what the highest setting would feel like.

Probably crisp my brain and cook my balls like fried eggs,
he thought grimly. No, he was going to wait until Lyra laid down the remote or left the room for a moment to try and make a break for it. Kaylee, with her long, golden-red hair and big blue eyes, seemed much more hesitant about using the damn thing. Solar was willing to bet she wouldn’t be able to make herself push the button which might buy him time to escape.

Unfortunately, Lyra showed no signs of abandoning the remote or the premises. She herded him in front of her, pushing Solar past a vast living area filled with expensive furniture, opulent decorations and the latest in high-tech entertainment systems. Then they reached a large, glass-walled elevator.

Lyra reached around him and pushed the up indicator. Apparently the “dungeon” they were taking him to was on the top floor. As Solar stepped inside the mirrored walls of the elevator, he caught a glimpse of himself in the glass. He was a sorry sight indeed, arms bound behind his back, the spiked pain collar choking his throat, and the tight black leather trousers constricting his shaft.

Behind him, he could see the small, steely eyes of Lyra, still holding the remote on him like a gun. Behind
her
, Kaylee entered the elevator last. She was nibbling her lush lower lip and there was a look of uncertainty on her pretty face. Solar stared at her and she looked up, meeting his gaze in the mirror. Their gazes locked and for a long, breathless moment they looked into each other’s eyes.

She’s beautiful,
Solar admitted to himself reluctantly. In fact, under different circumstances, he might have asked to buy her a drink. Unfortunately, they weren’t exactly standing side by side at the friendly neighborhood space port bar. He was currently her property—bound and collared and subject to her every whim. It kind of put a damper on a male’s mood.

Which didn’t explain why his shaft was stirring in his trousers. Suddenly he remembered the sight of her plump little pussy, just inches from his face and the warm, feminine scent which had teased his nose when his head had gotten trapped under her ridiculously short skirt. He wouldn’t mind playing sexual games with this little female—not a bit. If
games
were all they were. But being tied up and sold as a slave was no game or joke. And Kaylee wasn’t the only one he had to worry about. There was also Lyra to contend with.

He continued to stare into Kaylee’s eyes in the mirror. Her lips were slightly parted and her cheeks were flushed. Solar expected her to drop her gaze and end the intense staring contest at any moment but she seemed frozen—an animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming craft. He narrowed his own eyes and licked his lips slowly—the implication was clear.
I’m going to eat you up, little female. The minute I get free of these damn collar and cuffs you’re in trouble!

He wanted to discomfort her and put her off her guard and it worked. Kaylee’s eyes widened and she took a step back, her rounded posterior bumping against the mirrored wall of the elevator just as it emitted a soft chime and came to a halt.

Suddenly Lyra looked up and realized what was going on.

“None of that, slave.” She prodded Solar sharply in the back with the remote. “You’ll keep your eyes down. A slave must never dare to meet the gaze of his betters,” she explained to Kaylee.

“Oh,” Kaylee murmured faintly. She had a hand pressed to her chest, right between her full, soft breasts. She was still breathing hard as though she’d just run up a flight of stairs instead of standing quietly in the elevator locking eyes with Solar.

They all stepped off the elevator, Lyra still right behind him with the remote, and marched up to a tall, padded, red leather door. Solar stared at it narrowly.

What the hell is this?

He was soon to find out. At a word from Lyra, Kaylee swiped a magni-key over the door panel and the blood-red door swung silently open. At more prodding with the remote, Solar stepped past it and into the weirdest room he’d ever seen.

Everything was black. The walls and ceiling were black padded leather similar to the door, and the floors were made of some black polished wood which gleamed in the dim red lights placed in the corners of the huge room. The center of the room was dark and filled with indistinct shapes that looked like furniture—at least Solar thought it was furniture until Lyra raised her voice and demanded, “Lights, medium.” When the interior of the room was illuminated, he stared in dismay.

To start with, there was a large, rectangular waist-high table which doubled as a cage, with bars where its legs should have been. Then his eyes moved to a black wooden cross with manacles dangling from its crosspieces and from there to a long, flat black padded bench, also with manacles dangling from its corners.

A machine which looked like an inclined plane caught his eye—some kind of a spanking or whipping bench? But attached to the lower half of the plane was a machine with a piston arm clearly intended to drive forward and back in a steady motion. Attached to the arm was a large, black phallus which made Solar’s eyes widen.
What in the Seven Hells?

Not a whipping bench then—a
fucking
bench, if he was interpreting its use correctly. He swore to himself he wouldn’t be strapped down and penetrated by that damn phallus. Pain collar or not, he’d make a break for it if the sadistic Lyra tried to put him in that position.

But to his relief, his captors led him around the penetration bench and straight to one of the few pieces of equipment in the room that wasn’t black. It was a huge silver X which towered above everything else. Wrist manacles and ankle restraints were affixed at each corner.

Lyra pushed a release button and the cuffs around his wrists fell off with a clatter. This was what Solar had been waiting for but the moment he started to raise his numb hands, Lyra shocked him with the collar again, driving him to his knees. Solar clenched his teeth as jolts of pain ran through him, making him feel like he was being electrocuted. His muscles contracted painfully, his back arched in a perfect bow of unbearable agony.

On fire, Gods, I’m on fire!

“Just in case he gets any ideas,” she told Kaylee when the other girl protested. Finally, she stopped the pain and Solar went limp, panting. “Stand up. Arms up over your head,” she barked at him. “
Now
or you get another jolt!”

Solar glared at her with real hatred. He had never treated another being in such a fashion—he wouldn’t wish this on his worst enemy. But Lyra seemed to be enjoying herself. What kind of a sadistic witch was she?

He rose slowly when she pointed the remote at him again. What else could he do? As long as Lyra held the controls to his pain collar he was trapped.

“Manacle his hands to the whipping cross,” Lyra snapped, speaking to Kaylee this time.

“What? Why me?” Kaylee looked near tears. Clearly she had a much more tender heart than her friend. Not that that excused her in Solar’s eyes. He still intended to make his new mistress pay if he ever got out of this nightmare.

“Because you’re too soft to push the button,” Lyra said, stating the obvious. “Fasten his wrists to the posts with the metal cuffs. Do it
now
, Kaylee.”

“All right.” Kaylee couldn’t reach his wrists until Lyra pointed out a small wooden step stool in the corner, obviously used for this exact task. She dragged it over and stood on it, trying not to look him in the eyes as she clicked the metal cuffs around his wrists, fixing them securely to the corners of the huge metal frame.

Solar stared at her, keeping his eyes trained on her face. His vocal chords, which had been frozen by the chemical the slaver had injected into them, were beginning to thaw and he could feel a low, rumbling growl building deep in his chest.

You’ll pay for this, little mistress. Oh, you’re going to pay…

* * *

Kaylee wished her new slave wouldn’t keep staring at her that way. And was he actually
growling?
She couldn’t help remembering the way their eyes had locked in the elevator and the implied threat in his green and gold gaze. Goddess, the way he looked at her was so
intense.
It seemed to promise she would get back everything she and Lyra were dishing out with interest if only he could get free. The thought made Kaylee shudder and not just because she dreaded his intended retribution.

For some reason the way her new slave stared at her reminded her of the stash of illicit porn vids she’d found in the back of one of Aunt J’s closets. Vids of males dominating females instead of the other way around, the way nature intended. There were even some of males
penetrating
females with their shafts—an unheard of taboo. It made her wonder if Aunt J had been some kind of a sexual pervert. Or maybe she was just willing to try anything at least once. That seemed more in keeping with her dare-devil character.

Though she was shocked and dismayed by the illicit images, Kaylee hadn’t been able to stop watching them. They made her think of stories she’d heard of the Kindred—the race of males who were genetic traders and traveled the universe in search of females to bond with. Of course, her new slave was a Havoc, not a Kindred but still… The disturbing scenes gave her a strange, throbbing, tingling feeling between her legs which she had never felt when viewing other, more standard pornographic material with females dominating males…

Her new slave’s deep growl was becoming more menacing. It jerked her out of her illicit memories and made her blush when she realized he was giving her that intense stare again.

Stop it—stop thinking about it when you’re so close to him,
she told herself as she fastened the cuffs around his wrists with trembling fingers.
What if Havoc males can read thoughts somehow?
She’d heard it said that their genetic cousins, the Kindred, formed a telepathic bond with the females they mated. Could it be that the Havoc had a similar talent? Kaylee didn’t want to find out.

She bit her lip and looked away quickly when their eyes caught and held for an instant again. She had the absurd urge to apologize to him. To tell him it wasn’t her fault—that this whole thing had been Lyra’s idea. But she was pretty sure
she
was the one he was blaming. After all, it was
her
credit that had bought him and
her
dungeon he was currently being cuffed up in.

Speaking of the dungeon, she’d never gotten such an intimate look at it before. Her mental picture of Aunt J as a kindly and benevolent person was somewhat stretched when she looked around at all the strange torture equipment, not to mention the paddles, whips, floggers, and crops hanging from the racks on the walls.

Ha—as if you’re any better,
a little voice in her head sneered.
Just look at you, chaining your own personal body-slave up so you can…
Can what? Kaylee had no idea what Lyra had in mind for the poor male, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

“Good.” Lyra nodded approvingly as Kaylee finished with the Havoc male’s second wrist and stepped down from the stool. “Now we’re ready to begin. Kaylee, take off his trousers.”

“What?” Kaylee turned to her, aghast. “What did you say? I thought you said to take off his trousers but you can’t really mean for me to—”

“Of course I do,” Lyra snapped. “A large part of training any good body-slave is the sexual component. And you want to make sure his shaft is as big as it seems in the trousers. Some slavers will stuff a slave’s crotch to trick prospective buyers. You can’t be absolutely certain until you look.”

“But…but I don’t
want
to look at male organs,” Kaylee protested, even as she remembered uneasily how much time she’d spent doing that exact thing while viewing her aunt’s porn collection.

“You’re not just going to look at them—you’re going to touch them,” Lyra snapped. “Now go on—get those trousers off, Kaylee. Or would you rather I shock him again and see if we can train him using pain alone?”

Kaylee knew she couldn’t stand to see her new slave in agony again. She hated the pain Lyra inflicted on him every time she pressed the remote to the pain collar. But her friend seemed more than willing to use it as she demonstrated by pointing the small black rectangle at his broad chest, her finger hovering over the buttons.

“All right, all right,” she said quickly. “I’ll take off his trousers.” She stepped forward, trying not to see the glare on her slave’s face or hear the growl rising in his chest.

“Silence, slave,” Lyra barked. “Or you’re going to get another jolt for insolence.”

The growl died to a low rumble and Kaylee made herself reach out and touch the tight, black leather trousers. After fighting with the magnetic tabs at the front for a moment, they parted suddenly and a long, thick, semi-erect shaft sprang free.