Lissa licked her lips nervously. “I’d…make him go back and fetch it?” she asked, obviously hazarding a guess.
Lady Sha’rak threw her hands in the air. “And leave yourself unattended at a party? Unthinkable! You’d call another slave from your home to fetch it to you and in the meantime, you’d punish the one who forgot in the first place. Very publicly, I might add, to be certain he learned his lesson.” She sighed. “I’m sure I don’t know what they’re coming to on Zetta Prime when the young people don’t even know how to do such a simple thing as discipline a slave.”
“Forgive me,” Lissa said humbly. “As I said before, Saber has just always been so well behaved.”
“Not quite as well behaved as you think,” snapped their hostess. “He still doesn’t direct his eyes down where they belong. He still doesn’t greet you properly. And until you give him a little taste of pain, he’ll never learn. Now stand here, in the center of the room,” she directed Lissa. “And have your slave stand across from you.”
They arranged themselves as she demanded, standing in front of the black padded bench where their hostess was lounging as Llewelyn stood behind her at attention. Saber’s heart twisted in his chest as he looked down into Lissa’s lovely green eyes. He could see the anxiety this “training” session was already costing her and he only hoped she wouldn’t be too upset by whatever it was Lady Sha’rak insisted she do to him.
“There. Now look at the way you’re standing,” Lady Sha’rak said sharply. “Look at the way he’s looking at you—as though he’s your equal! He must keep his eyes down and never look you in the face unless you’re speaking to him. Slave—look down!” she snapped.
At once, Saber dropped his eyes and studied Lissa’s small feet instead of her face. She was wearing simple silk slippers a shade darker than her light green dress and they fit her tiny feet very well. But he couldn’t help letting his eyes trail up. The green dress was split high, like most of the other Yonnie dresses Kat had packed her, and her long, slender legs were fully revealed.
Likewise visible were the lace panties she had on, which went with the dress. They were trimmed in green but the tiny V of white lace in the center was what held his attention. It was so skimpy and translucent Saber swore he could almost see the outline of her plump little pussy lips through the thin material. In fact, the green lace border skimmed just along the middle of her mound and when she shifted uncomfortably, they pulled lower, revealing a neatly trimmed patch of blonde curls and the start of her slit. Goddess, what he wouldn’t give to kiss her there! To pull down her panties and plunge his tongue deep into her sweet, hot depths. To—
“There he goes again!” Lady Sha’rak exclaimed, breaking into his forbidden thoughts.
“What do you mean? He’s looking down, just as you said,” Lissa protested.
“Looking at you, more likely. And like a lover—not a slave. Why, he's practically eating you up with his eyes! It’s most improper.” Lady Sha’rak sounded scandalized. “Slap him, my dear.”
“What?” Lissa looked at their hostess, plainly startled.
“You heard me. Do not tolerate such insolence—slap his face this instant!”
“I…” Lissa looked absolutely miserable. “Must I?” She gave their hostess a pleading glance but Lady Sha’rak was glaring at her.
“If you don’t, I shall. It’s clear your body-slave is well overdue for this. As he himself said last night, he needs to learn pain as well as pleasure from your hand.”
Lissa looked up at him and Saber risked a quick look back. Then he leaned forward, lowering his head to make himself easier to reach. He didn’t fear a slap from his lady’s palm—he was a warrior and had suffered much harsher blows before. Indeed, the only thing that worried him was how bad Lissa was going to feel about hitting him. But there was no way around it—she was going to have to do it or risk offending their hostess and jeopardizing the mission.
A quick flick of her eyes showed him that Lissa must be realizing the same thing. She gave him a look full of apology and then reached up and slapped him.
Saber barely felt the blow—it was more like a pat than a slap and he was certain it wouldn’t leave a mark. Unfortunately, Lady Sha’rak seemed to come to the same conclusion.
“No, no!” she stormed. “Not like that—you have to show him you’re not to be trifled with. You must dominate him completely. Slap him, hard, Lady R’awr!”
Considering what Llewelyn had told him about secretly dominating his mistress, Saber considered her insistence that Lissa dominate him rather ridiculous. But he knew that if they didn’t do this correctly, things were only going to get worse.
“Really, Mistress,” he said softly, daring to look into Lissa’s eyes again. “Is that the best you can do?”
“He’s taunting you!” Lady Sha’rak was on the edge of her seat, her cheeks red with irritation. “This is too much, my dear—you must act!”
Lissa looked as though she was being pushed to the limit. Saber could see the determination building in her eyes and the tense set of her shoulders.
He leaned even closer and murmured, “Do it,” in a voice so low he was certain no one but she could hear.
“Fine!” Setting her lush pink lips in a tight line, Lissa pulled back her arm, and slapped him as hard as she could.
It was a respectable blow and Saber did everything he could to make it look even worse than it was. He let his head rock back as her hand connected and even put his fingertips to his cheek as though in surprise and pain. The tingling in his skin let him know that this slap would probably leave a mark—good, maybe it would satisfy their hostess’s lust for corporal discipline.
“Saber…” he heard Lissa whisper brokenly. “Your cheek…”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he took her hand—the one she had slapped him with—and pressed a soft kiss into her small palm.
“Mistress,” he murmured and let her hand drop as he stared down at her slippers, trying to look like a penitent slave. He ached fiercely inside—not from her slap but from the broken sound of her voice. A swell of hatred rose inside him—a deep antipathy toward their hostess, for making the female he loved so upset.
“Good, much more like it.” Lady Sha’rak sounded encouraging. “Look at him, my dear—you’ve almost put him in his place.”
“Almost?” Lissa asked in a quivering voice and Saber risked another glance at her troubled eyes. He wished again that he could comfort her but there was no way to do it without blowing their cover—not now, anyway.
“You cannot ignore the verbal taunts he made to you earlier,” Lady Sha’rak was saying firmly. “You must punish him severely this time.”
“So…you want me to slap him again?” Lissa sounded so upset at the idea that Saber felt his insides twist.
“Not necessarily.” Lady Sha’rak sounded thoughtful. “I would say you should give him the rod—nothing puts a slave in his place as quickly or as effectively. But the more I study him the more I see that your body-slave is much like my own.”
“How is that?” Lissa sounded uncertain.
“My Llewelyn isn’t much fazed by pain.” The ambassador cast a fond glance over her shoulder and she and her slave smiled at each other briefly. “I do punish him with it on occasion, of course, but I’ve found it much more effective to use pleasure to bring him into line.”
“Pleasure?” Lissa sounded honestly confused. “But…how?”
“You shall see. But first, I think we need some touch-me-not manacles. Llewelyn, be a love and get me some from the small cabinet in the corner, will you?”
The body-slave moved swiftly to do her bidding and before Saber knew it, Lady Sha’rak was slipping inch wide copper bracelets around his wrists. She adjusted them until they were firm and snug, though not painfully so, and then pressed a small copper remote, which Llewelyn handed her. Saber heard a small but ominous clicking sound from both cuffs and then Lady Sha’rak nodded in apparent satisfaction.
“There n
ow. That should do it,” she said, settling herself on the padded black bench again.
“What are those things you’ve put on Sa—on my slave?” Lissa demanded, looking upset.
“Nothing but a small deterrent, my dear. They will do no long term or lasting damage to your slave, I assure you. They will simply keep him from self-pleasuring. Until you remove them, he will be unable to gain relief unless you grant it to him personally.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Lissa said, frowning. “I thought the whole point of this…this exercise or whatever it is you have in mind, was pleasure. And how can you punish someone with pleasure, anyway?”
“It’s very simple, my dear. And it’s not pleasure so much as delayed gratification.”
“Delayed gratification?” Lissa repeated warily. “How does that work?”
The broken sound was gone from her voice, at least, which made Saber’s heart feel lighter. But he had a bad feeling about the thick copper bands locked around his wrists. Still, he was glad they seemed to be moving on to something that didn’t appear to involve slapping. Clearly Lissa felt the same—she would rather do anything than hurt him.
But Lady Sha’rak’s next words made his lighter mood suddenly evaporate.
“Cup his cock,” she said, looking at Lissa.
Lissa nearly choked. “I’m sorry…what?”
“You heard me.” Their hostess sounded impatient. “Do as I say and take his cock in your hand.”
Lissa’s cheeks were bright red but it was clear she didn’t dare disobey. Slowly she reached forward and placed her palm lightly against the bulge beneath Saber’s tight black trousers.
Saber fought to remain impassive but though she was barely touching him, he felt the light brush of her fingers against his shaft like fire. Gods! How often had he wished to feel her stroking him there! And now all that was separating them was a thin panel of cloth.
But Lissa’s timid gesture didn’t seem to please their hostess.
“For the Goddess’s sake, Lady R’awr,” she snapped. “You act as though you’ve never touched a male before! Do it right—reach into his pants and grasp his shaft.”
Saber knew for a fact that Lissa never had touched a male like she was being directed to touch him. She had spent the last several years living in a temple filled with women and before that, she’d been with only him. And despite their love, they had never gone this far, even though Saber had secretly wished they could.
Her lack of experience notwithstanding, she was going to have to learn quickly. And to her credit, she honestly tried.
Saber didn’t know which way to look as Lissa, her face now aflame with embarrassment, fumbled to get her hand down the front of his trousers. But they were too damn tight—she couldn’t manage. It seemed like she was about to give up when Lady Sha’rak spoke again.
“You, slave—why are you standing there like a lump? Open your trousers for your lady!” She gave him a glare. “And you’d better be very, very careful not to touch your equipment or I promise you’ll regret it.”
Saber obeyed at once, unfastening the magno-tabs that held the waist in place and unzipping slowly, being careful not to touch his own bare skin. To his embarrassment, his shaft was harder than ever—the minute his zipper came down it sprang free to stand at attention between his thighs like an exclamation point.
“Very nice.” Lady Sha’rak’s eyes raked over him and she nodded approvingly. “Now stand at attention, hands behind your back.”
Saber did as she commanded, feeling like some kind of prized beast put on display.
“I can see why you put up with so much, my dear,” Lady Sha’rak murmured to Lissa. “He’s very well hung. A shaft that size must give you considerable pleasure.”
“I…thank you. It…it does,” Lissa murmured in a voice choked with embarrassment. She didn’t seem to know which way to direct her gaze, but her eyes kept returning to Saber’s shaft as though she couldn’t look away.
Of course she can’t look away—she’s probably traumatized, he thought with a surge of irritation for their officious hostess. She’s never seen a male’s equipment before and I’m on the large side even for a Kindred. No doubt she’s scared to death right now!
Unfortunately, his anger didn’t make his shaft deflate in the least. Instead, it seemed to grow even harder, throbbing between his thighs as though begging to be touched…stroked…
“All right now that you can reach it, take it in your hand,” Lady Sha’rak was directing Lissa.
Lissa didn’t answer or protest this time. Instead she reached forward and rested her hand lightly on his bare shaft.
Saber bit the inside of his cheek fiercely to stifle a groan. Even this light touch was enough to make him crazy. Her hand, he couldn’t help thinking to himself. Her hand is on me! She’s touching me! And the Goddess knew he wanted her to touch him so much more…
But even this wasn’t enough for the relentless Lady Sha’rak. “No, no—take him firmly in your hand,” she told Lissa. “Wrap your fingers around his shaft.”
Her cheeks burning red, Lissa complied. Or tried to, anyway—her slender fingers couldn’t quite encircle Saber’s aching cock.
“Now…now what?” she asked Lady Sha’rak in a strangled voice.
“No, my dear, you stroke him.” Their hostess gave her a knowing smile. “Slowly but firmly—up and down. That’s it,” she continued as Lissa began a slow up and down caress as directed. “Excellent—now don’t rush it. Let him feel your dominance.”
But dominance wasn’t exactly what Saber was feeling. Instead he felt a hot rush of pleasure every time Lissa’s soft, slender fingers slid over his heated flesh. His cock throbbed in her little hand, his balls—still enclosed in the black trousers—ached and grew tight with the need to come.
Relax, he told himself sternly. Just relax and think of something else. But he couldn’t—couldn’t take his mind away when one of his deepest fantasies was becoming a reality. He stood with his legs braced apart, his hands clenched into fists behind his back, and his cock throbbing with each sweet stroke of her fingers, feeling like he was going to explode.
Goddess, it was shameful but her soft hand was too much for him. He was getting closer by the minute—what kind of punishment would their sadistic hostess make Lissa inflict on him if he came? And how traumatic would it be for Lissa if he suddenly shot his load all over her trembling fingers?
“Do you see the tension in his body? The way his jaw is clenched?” Lady Sha’rak demanded. “You’ve got him right on the edge—right where you want him, my dear.”
“Yes… I guess I do.” Lissa’s voice sounded almost dreamy. In the beginning, there was no doubt she’d been horribly embarrassed by what she was forced to do. But now…could she be…enjoying it? Surely not.
Yet, when Saber risked a quick glance at her face, he saw an expression of eager curiosity in her eyes. She likes it! he thought. She likes touching me—exploring me the way I want to explore her!
The thought was a revelation—since she’d never seen or touched male equipment before, Saber had been afraid she would be repulsed or frightened by him. But the look on her face made it clear the opposite was true. Lissa was enjoying this—not as much as he was, perhaps—but she was far from repulsed.
Knowing that she didn’t hate what she was doing—that she actually liked touching him—was almost too much for Saber. He could feel the hot cum building in his balls and his shaft grew even harder, threatening to erupt at any moment.
“My lady!” he gasped at last, in a strangled voice. “My lady, please!”
“Saber? Am I hurting you?” Lissa looked up at him at once, her eyes filled with uncertainty.
“No,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “No, but I…I can’t take much more. I’m about to—”
“Stop!” Lady Sha’rak interrupted commandingly. “Stop touching him this instant, my dear,” she told Lissa.
Reluctantly, Saber thought, Lissa pulled her han
d away. She looked at Lady Sha’rak. “Now what?”
“Now we wait for a moment.” There was a look of cruel amusement in their hostess’s blue eyes. “I think it’s a good time to practice how your slave acknowledges you in public.”
“It is?” Lissa looked troubled but their hostess nodded firmly. “I mean…now?”
“Absolutely.” Lady Sha’rak nodded firmly. “Now, start at the beginning: how do you have him show reverence to you when you go out?” she asked.
“He should kiss my foot.” Lissa looked relieved to know the answer.
“You heard her, slave.” Lady Sha’rak snapped her fingers imperiously. “Get down and kiss your mistress’s foot.”
Saber nodded submissively though he was boiling inside. He began to stuff his aching cock back into his trousers but a sharp shock to his fingertips made him curse hoarsely and jerk his hands back.
“Uh-uh-uh, slave. Did you forget about the touch-me-not manacles you’re wearing?” She gave him a stern frown. “You will be unable to touch your equipment without pain until such time as your mistress deems it time to remove them.” She gestured at Lissa’s small green slippers. “Now kneel at your lady’s feet and make a proper obeisance.”
Stiffly, feeling ridiculous with his throbbing member still exposed and his fingertips tingling, Saber got to his knees. He leaned low and pressed his lips to the top of Lissa’s little foot.
Offering the token of submission burned but again, only because it was Lady Sha’rak giving the order for it. He knew he wouldn’t mind doing this for Lissa—he wouldn’t hesitate for an instant if she was the one asking. He did mind, however, putting on a show just to please their sadistic hostess. Had he really thought to himself just the night before that she wasn’t as cruel as Lady Pope’nose? Clearly he had been wrong. She was a true bitch and it seemed his torture was far from over.
“Very good,” she said to Lissa as Saber raised up again. “And now, how does he show reverence to you when you are announced at a formal party?”