Surrendered

  “It’s all right, sweetheart,” Neh’sa heard him murmur as he stroked her hair. “It’s all right. Whatever it is, get it out. Just get it all out.”

  It occurred to her then, in the midst of her pain, that she had never cried for Heloth’s death before. When it had first happened, she’d been too numb—disbelieving of the evil sequence of events that had torn her lover from her. And afterwards, she’d thrown herself into the clinic, into memorializing his memory and into her anti-cruelty and anti-pain collar causes. She’d worked herself to exhaustion almost every single night that first year after he was gone. All so she could fall into a dreamless, death-like sleep instead of facing the pain of her loss.

  Now it was as though ten years of grief had finally caught up with her. She buried her face in Thorn’s broad chest and sobbed, not caring that it wasn’t proper protocol to allow her slave to comfort her this way. It was as though the pain of Heloth’s death had been chasing her all these cycles and she’d been afraid to turn around and face it until now—until she had a pair of warm, solid arms to hold her and help her bear it.

  Thorn didn’t try to stop her weeping. He only held her close and stroked her hair, whispering soothing nothings, telling her everything would be all right, that she was going to be okay.

  At last, Neh’sa felt as though she’d cried herself completely out. She felt hollow inside, like someone had scooped out all her internal organs and left nothing but empty air in their place. Her head ached and her eyes felt swollen. In fact, all of her ached. Her body was letting her know she’d pushed it too far tonight, drained herself to the point of exhaustion and beyond.

  Goddess she was tired!

  Dimly, she was aware of Thorn sitting her down on the blue, fuzzy Gerna-grass mat that covered the bathroom floor which lived off the condensed steam and stray water-droplets that inevitably dripped on it after a bath or shower.

  This is it, she thought dully. Now he’ll leave me to myself to try and collect my emotions. Goddess, how could I have shamed myself so badly? I’ve ruined his training for certain this time. He’ll never respect me or want to submit to me as his Mistress again after the display I put on tonight!

  But to her surprise, Thorn didn’t leave. Instead he hummed softly under his breath as he ran hot water into the huge soaking tub. Scented steam began to rise and after a moment he came back to her and started taking off her clothing.

  “What…what are you doing?” Neh’sa tried to make her voice stern but it came out wavering and uncertain.

  “Giving you a bath,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I know I’m turning the tables here—you’re usually the one who takes care of me. But tonight I’m going to take care of you, Mistress. Because I think you need it.”

  He didn’t make it a question or ask if his actions were acceptable to her. Neh’sa tried to find it in herself to protest but somehow she couldn’t. She let him undress her in silence, not protesting a bit even when he scooped her up as easily as he might lift a child.

  “All right now, Mistress,” he rumbled as he lowered her down into the hot, sweetly scented water. “Let me know if this is too warm for you.”

  “No, it…it’s perfect,” Neh’sa whispered, finding her voice at last.

  “Good. Then just relax and let me take care of you,” Thorn ordered.

  And to her surprise, Neh’sa did.

  * * * * *

  She didn’t say a thing as he bathed her, Thorn noted. She just closed her eyes and allowed him to wash her in silence. He used the same synthi-sponge she always used when she bathed him, stroking it tenderly along her slender limbs and over her narrow shoulders and back and respectfully over her breasts and belly and thighs.

  Before washing her hair, he wrung out a cool facecloth in the sink and put it over her eyes, which were red and wet from crying. Her long, dark tresses rippled in the water and Thorn couldn’t help thinking how beautiful she was with her full curves on display.

  Gods, had he ever felt so much for a female before? Only once. And that had been long ago…so long he could almost make himself forget it. He’d never thought to have those feelings again but Neh’sa had changed all that. Somehow when his Mistress had touched his body, she had touched his soul too.

  Thorn made himself get on with the business at hand. His heart hurt for Neh’sa’s pain, but he was glad to have a chance to take care of her for a change. She was always so careful with him—washing and touching him without allowing him to return the favor. Now he relished the chance to pamper her and show her some of the devotion he felt by bathing her and washing her hair.

  When her hair was finished, Thorn allowed her to soak a little longer and then, when the water began to grow cold, he lifted her out of the tub and set her on her feet while he reached for a towel.

  The moment her feet touched the blue grass mat, she gave a little hiss of pain.

  Thorn looked at her sharply.

  “What is it, Mistress? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing…” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered in the cool air. “I’m just a little achy is all. When I use too much of my power…expend too much energy—” She broke off abruptly, as though this wasn’t something she felt she ought to be talking about—at least not to him.

  “Like I said, you nearly killed yourself.” Thorn frowned and added, “It’s all right—I can tell you’re not all Yonnite anymore than I’m all Kindred. You don’t have to tell me what you are—what gives you your power—if you don’t want to.” The Goddess knew he certainly hadn’t told her much about his own half-heritage.

  “I’m half Lylasian,” she said hesitantly. We have empathic abilities—well, full blooded Lylasians do. I can’t feel all emotions—only pain—the pain of others, I mean.”

  Thorn thought of how she’d told him he was broken inside when she first saw him at the auction—she must have somehow tapped into the pain of his past. The pain he took great care never to think of himself. And how difficult must it be for her to live on a planet like Yonnie Six where there was pain being inflicted all around her all the time?

  It must be like living in the lowest level of the Seven Hells, he thought grimly. It gave him new insight into her methods as a Mistress. She must feel every pain she inflicted as her own—it must certainly give her the unique ability to push a submissive right to the edge without quite going over, as she had done with him on several occasions.

  “Is that also what gives you your healing abilities? Your Lylasian blood?” he asked, choosing not to comment on her pain remark. It was too much to get into now.

  Neh’sa nodded.

  “My mother, who was full blooded Lylasian, was a much better healer than I am.” A sorrowful look passed over her face. “If I was the healer she was I could have saved…” she cleared her throat. “Could have saved so many people.”

  “Including the body slave who died? The one you dedicated your clinic to?” Thorn asked, deciding to take a chance.

  She frowned at him. “How do you know about Heloth?”

  “I don’t—don’t know anymore about him than that he died and you miss him.” He began rubbing her dry with a big, puffy red towel, admiring the contrast of the scarlet fabric against her pale skin. “You can tell me if you want,” he added, in as off-hand a tone as he could manage.

  Neh’sa frowned and lifted her chin.

  “No, as it happens I do not wish to tell you my private affairs, Thorn. Nor is it appropriate for you to ask.”

  “Too bad we’re not being appropriate tonight then,” Thorn murmured and swung her up into his arms.

  “Thorn? Wait—what are you doing? Put me down,” she demanded.

  “All right.” He carried her into the bedchamber and put her face down on the towels he’d had the house-droids lay out on the bed. Then he picked up a bottle of hisen-flower massage oil gel.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Neh’sa demanded. Now that the worst of her grief had expended itself, she seemed to want to go back to
being the cool and aloof Mistress she’d been for most of their time together.

  The trouble was, Thorn wasn’t going to let her. At least, not tonight.

  He squirted some of the lightly scented oil-gel on his palms and rubbed his hands briskly together to warm them up. Bending over the bed, he swept Neh’sa’s long, damp hair out of the way, gripped her by the shoulders, and began a firm massage.

  “Thorn, you really shouldn’t…ahhhh.” Her words ended in a groan as he found the pressure points on her shoulders and began to rub out the knots of tension he found there.

  “Oh my Goddess,” Neh’sa moaned as he continued to work on her. “Your hands are so big and warm. Where did you learn to do this, Thorn? I had no idea you had such hidden talents.”

  Thorn didn’t like to tell her he knew about anatomy from his study of paralyzing and killing pressure points. Instead he rubbed harder, running his hands down her arms and then her mid and lower back.

  “Mmmmm…” Neh’sa’s soft sigh of contentment did strange things to his shaft, still concealed behind the short black loincloth attached to his crotchless leather trousers. But he reminded himself he was trying to make his Mistress feel better—not seduce her. Still, it was nice to be the one touching her and in charge of her pleasure, rather than the other way around for once.

  He did her entire back, not neglecting her legs and feet, making her moan some more as he caressed and massaged her soft little soles—Gods, every part of her was lovely! Then he moved back up to the rounded globes of her ass, which he kneaded and stroked until Neh’sa gave another, different kind of moan and spread her legs just a little.

  Thorn raised an eyebrow Well, well—maybe his Mistress was feeling better than he’d thought.

  He took her silent invitation and began to rub and massage her inner thighs. Soon his fingertips were brushing against her outer pussy lips. He wondered if Neh’sa would stop him—if this therapeutic massage which had suddenly turned erotic was too much for her.

  But Neh’sa didn’t say a thing. She only spread her legs a little wider and arched her back as though inviting him in.

  The message was clear—she liked what he was doing and wanted him to continue.

  Thorn felt his cock surge. Gods, she was gorgeous, so naked and open for him. But he didn’t want to go any further like this, with the two of them pretending what was happening wasn’t happening. No, he wanted Neh’sa to acknowledge what was going on between them, however obliquely.

  “Mistress,” he purred softly in her ear. “As you said before I have…hidden talents. And one of those is a special massage technique I think you’ll like.” He gripped her inner thighs and squeezed, allowing his thumbs to spread her outer pussy lips, revealing her wet, pink center. “Would you like me to continue?” he murmured.

  “I…yes, Thorn,” she whispered after only a moment’s hesitation. “I would. But…what exactly does this special technique involve?”

  “A thorough massage of your feminine core, Mistress,” he told her, pressing gently with his thumbs, knowing he was stimulating the sides of her clit. His slippery fingers had slid inwards so that each time he squeezed them together he was opening her pussy more, baring more of her inner folds.

  “Mmm…and how…how exactly do you do that?” Neh’sa’s soft voice was breathless and her hips were rocking, responding to his gentle but firm caress.

  “Well, I have to have access to all of you—all of your pussy—to do it right.” Thorn cupped her soft, open pussy from behind in one hand and slid the tip of his middle finger into her heated folds. Gods, she was so wet.

  For a moment, Neh’sa stiffened against him and he froze, his finger just lightly stroking the tight little button at her center. His cock was aching and his mouth was watering to take this faster, further…but he didn’t want to rush her pleasure.

  Then she moaned softly and spread her thighs some more, silently giving him permission.

  Thorn circled her slippery clit with a slow, gentle caress designed to drive her wild. He leaned over her, letting her feel his bulk above her as he stroked her and murmured in her ear,

  “Does that feel good, Neh’sa? You like it when I pet your soft little pussy?”

  He saw a shiver run through her at his dirty words and felt her pussy clench as he continued to rub her.

  “Goddess,” she whispered unsteadily. “You…you’re to call me Mistress at all times, Thorn—you know that.”

  “You didn’t answer the question.” With his other hand, the one not busy stroking her pussy, he reached under her to cup one full breast in his palm. “Answer me, Neh’sa,” he growled in her ear as he rolled her nipple. “Do you like it when I stroke your wet pussy?”

  It was a calculated risk and Thorn knew it. Up until now, except the first night when she’d allowed him to make her come on his fingers, she’d been in complete control sexually. But he was betting she didn’t always want to be the one in charge. The fact that she’d had a body-slave in the past who was more than just a slave—who was an actual lover—made him think that maybe she’d be willing to switch roles sometimes and not always be the dominant.

  Neh’sa’s entire body stiffened for an instant and he thought he must have misread the signals he’d thought she was putting out. Then, with a little moan, she pressed her pussy hard into his palm and opened her thighs even wider for him.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I…I love it when you stroke my pussy, Thorn.”

  His cock surged again. God, he was so achingly hard her for her! He could feel the fire rising in him as his lust grew but right now it was the Kindred part of him that was dominant and what the Kindred part wanted to do was to taste her—to feel her sweet pussy pressed against his mouth as he drank her juices right from the source.

  “That’s good, Neh’sa—very good,” he murmured, stroking faster, circling her clit as she rotated her hips in time with his rhythm. “I’m glad you like it when I massage you with my fingers but I have a different massage technique I want to try on you. An oral technique.”

  Her breath seemed to stop in her chest for a moment.

  “Oral?” she whispered.

  “That’s right.” Thorn knelt at the edge of the bed and hooked his arms around her spread thighs. With a tug, he got her into position, her ass half raised and her pussy spread and tilted back towards him. Her folds were swollen and wet and the little pink pearl of her clit was on full display, begging for his tongue to take up where his fingers had left off.

  “Thorn!” Neh’sa gasped and began to struggle. But there was no way he was letting her get away now.

  “Don’t move, Neh’sa,” he commanded, putting a dominant growl in his voice. “I want to taste your pussy and you’re not going to deny me again. Now fucking hold still and let me lap your soft little cunt.”

  She moaned and ceased her struggling. Good—it was time she learned to give him control sometimes. Thorn’s natural, dominant nature rose inside him and he spread her even wider, squeezing her thighs possessively as he leaned forward and took a long, slow, hot lick of her quivering pussy.

  “Ahh!” Neh’sa gasped as he stroked his tongue over her wet folds. “Oh, Thorn!”

  “That’s right,” he growled, looking up for a moment. “That’s right—spread that hot little pussy for my tongue. Open yourself and let me taste you. Gonna make you hot, sweetheart—so hot you come all over my face.”

  “I…we…shouldn’t,” she moaned, but she was pressing back against him, opening herself for his tongue as he had commanded even as she protested.

  “Yes we fucking should. I’ve been wanting to taste your soft little pussy from the minute I first saw you,” Thorn growled, and took another deep taste of her sweet, honeyed folds. Gods, she tasted amazing! He was addicted to her taste, to the warm, feminine scent of her that filled his senses.

  Her answer was nothing but a moan which Thorn took as a sign to continue. Dragging her a little closer to the side of the bed, he pressed forward and go
t in deep, pressing his tongue into the soft, tight entrance of her pussy and thrusting forward, fucking her with his face.

  Her pussy responded to his aggressive move by gushing honey, which Thorn lapped up eagerly. Gods, he’d heard other Kindred males talk about how they needed to taste their females but he’d never understood it until now—had never understood the sheer sexual bliss of spreading a woman wide and ravaging her with his tongue.

  He never wanted it to end.

  * * * * *

  Neh’sa couldn’t believe she was allowing him to do this.

  It’s wrong, cried the little voice in her brain. First you cry all over him and then you allow him to take the upper hand sexually—stop it now, Neh’sa or he’ll never respect you again!

  But somehow she couldn’t stop the big Kindred—didn’t want to stop him. And besides, she didn’t think she could stop him even if she wanted to. He was so much bigger than her—so much stronger. Now that he had taken the upper hand, there was no getting it back from him. She was helpless to do anything but open herself for him, helpless to do anything but submit to his tongue in her pussy.

  “Ah!” she heard herself moaning. “Ah, Goddess, Thorn…that feels so good. Please, oh please.”

  She didn’t know what she was asking for—probably for him to make her come. Her mind was a jumbled mess and her pussy was throbbing against his hot mouth as he lashed her with his tongue one minute and then thrust it deep in her wet depths the next.

  Crying with need, she pressed back against him, blindly seeking the pleasure he was giving her, craving even more of his mouth on her.

  “Thorn!” she cried, reduced at last to begging. “Thorn, please—please make me come!”

  He pulled away for a moment, though his hand took the place of his tongue to keep up the momentum.

  “That’s right, sweetheart,” he growled in a hoarse, hungry voice. “That’s right, spread that pussy for me and ride my face. Gonna fuck you with my tongue until you gush honey for me. Gonna make you come…come so hard.”