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Nyssa's Guardian Page 4


  “You will keep the count,” he told her. “Repeat the numbers after me.”

  “Just get it over with…” He had her so helpless, her body bridged, her head down, her hair lying over the carpet in a corona.

  “One,” announced the primale, as his hand rose and fell, cracking efficiently down on her already tingling ass.

  “Ow!” she cried. “Fuck it, Theron! That hurts!”

  “We’ll begin again,” he announced with the patience of a pedagogue. “This time you will remember to count. One…”

  “One,” she grimaced, tears in her eyes.

  “Much better. Congratulations, that was your first act of obedience.”

  She wanted to tell him where to shove his obedience, but he was delivering another spank. This one erupted like fire all across her backside. “Two,” she cried.

  “Good girl.” He gave her ass a condescending little pat.

  “I’m not a girl.” She pushed her ass up at him.

  “My apologies.” Theron landed another smack to bring her back down. “Three…fem.”

  “Three,” she moaned, wanting desperately to say more.

  “We’ll go to ten and then you’ll be bound for the night.”

  “Oh, goodie…”

  “Four.”

  “Four,” she repeated, scarcely aware where three had left off and this new one had begun.

  His hand vanished again, only to return, just as fast, this time with a whole rake of fire slashing across her skin. “Five. And just so you know. With each offense, Nyssa, your punishment will only increase, should you ever be tempted to defy me again.”

  Something happened at five. Even as she was reciting back the number, the surface agony in her flesh was sinking deeper, mingling with the already present aching in her pussy. Combine this with the mental image of herself, open, exposed and sexually vulnerable to the man’s every whim, and she was suddenly feeling things more complicated than pain.

  It was hard to put into words—part of it was because it was this particular man doing it…so very controlling, so totally able to take possession of the female. Another part had to do with a dark secret, long-buried, something known only to her, to her closest cluster sister Estriana—an obedient—and to Kilak, the primale to whom Estriana was betrothed.

  Like all clusters, Nyssa’s was balanced, an equal number of fems and obedients. It was thought that each could learn from the other, forming a stronger whole. In most clusters, fems and obedients tended to segregate. Nyssa and Estriana were a notable exception.

  “Six,” said Theron.

  Nyssa moaned. She could feel the heat pouring off his hand. So much power under such tight control. Those hands could bend steel, tear a Narthian limb from limb, and yet he was applying only as much force as was needed to spank her. To punish and dominate her.

  Dominate…

  The word made her pussy spasm almost as much as what he was doing to her. She was being dominated…like an obedient.

  “Six,” she hissed, adding in the same breath. “Theron, please, I can’t take any more.”

  “You should have considered that before running off.”

  Nyssa squirmed in response to his damnable primale logic.

  “Hold still,” he ordered, giving her a punitive smack.

  “Seven,” she gulped.

  “Don’t bother,” he informed her, “that one didn’t count.”

  Nyssa was a mess of hot need by now. Her nerve endings were so confused. She didn’t know if she wanted to be touched, left alone or both.

  “This one, however, does.”

  “S-seven,” she winced in response to the extra-hard blow.

  “After this,” he paused to resume lecturing, “you will see why it behooves you to follow my instructions to the letter. Rest assured, they are for your own good. You will keep to my schedule and you will see no one without my approval. We will travel alone.”

  “But I need my staff,” she whined.

  “Floatels have grooming robots. Any of the holotheaters you’re going to will have their own staff as a backup.”

  “Theron…this is mean.”

  “Eight. And no more sex-making, either. Not without my approval.”

  Nyssa forgot the count. “You can’t do that!”

  “I just did. Eight.” He slapped his hand back down on her jiggling flesh.

  “Eight,” she spat back. “You miserable—”

  “Nine.”

  Nyssa cried out, her protest cut short. “Nine,” she responded reluctantly.

  “And ten.”

  “Ten,” she gasped, never so thankful to have heard that number in all her life.

  Theron raised her up off his lap. “Remove your clothing,” he said.

  She stared at him, a little unsteady on her feet. “What for?” she asked, her vision obscured by her mop of disorganized, silver-blue hair.

  He arched a brow. “Are you looking for another spanking so soon?”

  Nyssa quickly pulled the little white blouse over her head and undid the little white skirt. One fiery ass-beating a night was quite sufficient, thank you very much. “I’m not disobeying, I’m just asking a question.”

  Theron waited until she was standing before him naked to respond. “I’m not obligated to answer questions,” he informed her. “In this case, however, I will tell you. Primales bind their women nude and no other way.”

  Nyssa moved her hands to cover herself, suddenly flushing. “I’m not your woman, and I am not going to be bound.”

  “You are a woman, though. And you are under my discipline for the present.”

  Hating herself for her sudden lack of resolve, she switched to a different tack. “Theron, I don’t want to be tied up. Please don’t do that to me.”

  Stars and planets, listen to her. She was practically whining.

  Unmoved, like a monarch in his infernal chair, Theron snapped his fingers. “Go to the bed, Nyssa. Lie on it facedown and wait for me.”

  She met his gaze for all of half a second. There was something in it she dared not defy. “Yes, Theron,” she heard herself say, staring down at her toes.

  Her knees were like poli-rubber as she went to do his bidding. The truth echoed through her mind like a hot, perverted whisper.

  I’m obeying a man. I’m obeying a man. Going to bed naked, at the snap of his fingers…to be tied.

  It came as a chant, the very same tune of nine solars ago. Only then it had been Estriana being taunted. She had just been introduced to Kilak, who was to be her primale dominant. Both had obtained their eighteenth solar passing. The period of courtship would take several months, but the changes in Nyssa’s cluster sister were immediate. No more laughing and joking with the mems, no more doing anything without checking with her betrothed first.

  Almost invariably, he’d told her no. The primale coming between her and her cluster sister had angered Nyssa. Indeed, though he was posted on the far side of Celex 7 as a cadet at a reconnaissance base, he might as well have lived in the room Nyssa had shared with Estriana for his power over her. One night, after Nyssa had returned from a party that Estriana had been forbidden to attend, she’d found the beautiful blonde obedient naked in the sanitizing chamber. She was standing against the wall, pushing a large cyber dildo inside her asshole. She had a gag in her mouth and clamps on her nipples. The warm, red cleansing beams were pouring down on her as she moaned through orgasm after orgasm.

  Nyssa had asked what she was doing and she’d said that Kilak liked her to do things to herself, the kind of things he would do in person. The very next time he’d come for a visit, Nyssa had confronted him, calling him a bully. Kilak had dismissed her, telling her that she was just jealous of the attention Estriana was getting.

  “You wish a primale would want you,” he’d told her. “But none ever will, because you’re a fem.”

  Ever the hothead, she had slapped him in the face. “Liar.”

  The slap had had no effect. “Prove me wrong, then. Show
me you’re not in heat.”

  Nyssa had clamped her slick thighs. “I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

  He’d raised his hand, oath-style. “Lift your skirt, then, and I’ll check for myself.”

  Her breathing had been ragged and she had been as weak as a rag doll. She’d known she would fail the test, so why had she been prepared to let him? To risk so much just to feel his touch? She would likely be spoiled forever for another man, left aching and unsatisfied the rest of her days, unable to enjoy the only sex-making available to her—that of mems and fems.

  And what of Kilak? What had he risked? He’d had a future, a career, and a golden-haired beauty to worship him.

  It was Estriana herself who had saved them from their fate. Entering the room and seeing what was about to unfold, she’d gone to her knees, begging Kilak’s touch upon her womanhood instead.

  The young primale had stood paralyzed a moment. “Get out,” he’d growled at last to Nyssa.

  She had heard the screams behind the closed door. Kilak had taken Estriana ahead of the official bonding ceremony. By that evening, she had been his—as much as a woman could ever belong to a man. Estriana had packed her things and had been escorted promptly to newlywed quarters.

  “I’m sorry, Nyssa,” she’d apologized, though she’d had nothing to be sorry for.

  “It’s all right.” Nyssa had embraced her one last time, though it was a long time before she would allow anyone to talk about Estriana without becoming cross. Eventually she had realized that it was her own jealousy still at work. She’d sought Estriana’s forgiveness and had been promptly granted it.

  Nyssa made it as far as the bed, crawling up onto the mattress before the tears came. She felt like such a little fool, embarrassing herself this way. Burying her head in the pillow, she had no choice but to let it all out. She wasn’t even sure why or exactly where they were coming from. She had always been so strong in front of everyone. Her cluster sisters had always turned to her for everything, like when their pet gleenat had died or the time the girls at their rival cluster, White Roses, were giving them all that trouble.

  Now it was the whole of the nation turning to her, absorbing her performances, looking for diversion, for hope, for entertainment.

  “Nyssa?” Theron touched her shoulder. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”

  “Of course I’m hurt,” she cried. “You hurt me…and I hate you! You’re nothing but a bully.”

  She heard him sigh. “Nyssa, what I did was for your own good. You’ll see that soon enough.”

  Her anguish turned instantly to rage. “You don’t know what’s good for me!” She turned to face him. “You don’t know anything about me, so why don’t you get the fuck out of my life? Go find a nice little obedient girl-slut to get your rocks off!”

  Theron’s jaw tensed. “I’m getting tired of your insults, young lady, and if you persist in this childish behavior, I will gag you until domelight.”

  That was all Nyssa needed. “Not if I scratch out your eyes first!” She was on him like a wildcat, all claws and naked flesh. Unfortunately, this was a primale she was attacking, which meant the battle was over before it began.

  Theron pinned her, wrists overhead on either side of her body. He was on top of her, his chest inches from hers.

  Nyssa was breathing too heavily to speak. She should be protesting, objecting, doing something, but all she could do was look into the man’s eyes—the eyes of desire, the eyes of male need as she had never seen it before. So very fierce and intense—the power of faraway suns burning in the black cosmos, mountains, liquefying on far-off worlds. By all the stars and planets, why hadn’t she seen this before? The invincible primale, underneath his armor and intellect, his readiness for every situation, was…lonely.

  “Theron,” she spoke his name, and then it was too late to turn back.

  Chapter Four

  The woman beneath him was not his own. Painfully as his cock might strain, as deep as his heart might yearn, as much as he might be enslaved by her unparalleled beauty and desirability, he could not, must not take her. Not here, not now, not ever.

  But the way she said his name, pronouncing it as no one ever had, as if she were prepared to journey inside him, to know what all others feared. And to do this…she would surrender all.

  “Theron…” she was saying it again. “Take me.”

  “Nyssa,” he croaked, “no.”

  Her lips reached toward his. “Yes,” she defied.

  The touch of her was more than water to a thirst-maddened Bedouin, more than food to a starved beggar, more than wine and more than life. Mouths pressed, exploring—her small body offered up. Theron’s tongue plunged, just as it was primed to do. This was his programming. No hesitation. No mercy.

  Nyssa had opened the door.

  Theron shifted his grip, gathering both her wrists in one of his hands. With the other he began to explore. Nyssa shivered as his fingers played across her rib cage to her tremoring belly. Every inch of her fascinated him. The million-trillion responses she might be capable of, eyes fluttering, delightful womanly expressions dancing across her face. If he could make this last forever…

  Desire had other ideas though, as her panting indicated, and the rise of her scent in the air, and the way his hands itched and could not wait to expose the center of his need…

  Like the wolf, he nibbled at her ear, squashing her breasts. Her legs separated as naturally and gracefully as any obedient. The zipper on the exo-suit gave way and his cock came out into his hand—so ready, so far beyond ready.

  Nyssa’s mouth opened in a sigh of wonder as she felt him against her hip. “The-ron…” She said his name in two syllables as she pleaded inarticulately. He knew what she wanted, knew what she needed right this instant, and in other ways too that he had not yet begun to examine.

  “Nyssa,” he felt obligated to warn, “I’m large. Not all women can take a primale.”

  Her teeth were clenched. She shook her head, dismissing his objections. “Shut up, Theron…for once. I want it in me, just put it in… I’m a big girl.”

  He didn’t need to be asked twice. Her labia parted as he lowered himself tentatively. She encouraged him with little moans, bit-by-bit, ever deeper into her pulsing canal.

  By the Oath of the Guardians! Nyssa was so wet, so warm…she was like…home.

  He sheathed himself, his body making the descent slowly and steadily. Exact.

  Her legs wrapped around him like they were made for this, to lock ankles behind his clenched buttocks, and deliver weak, hot half-kisses along his neck, wherever she could reach.

  “Please…” she whimpered, wanting him to move, to begin the thrusting they both craved so badly.

  He could feel the fire of her yearnings…almost bottomless. Could it be her heart was as empty as his? Despite all the glory of her position, and the brightness of her future?

  There would be a price for this, warned the voices in his head, stern voices of elders and commanders. He was fucking the wrong kind of woman. He was ruining them both.

  How could he care, though? With this body so tight to him, this person so close?

  “Is this what you’re looking for?” Using another of his super gifts, Theron clenched and unclenched the muscles in his cock, willing its expansion. He made it just big enough, and then stopped, giving her mind a chance to blow safely.

  “Oh, my fucking fem soul.” Nyssa made a deep sighing sound. She arched her back like a cat, feeling her way around him, accommodating, getting herself used to primale cock. Under different circumstances, a primale might torture a woman all night long with his erection, but there would be no holding out tonight.

  Theron’s explosion was too close to the surface. Too closely woven into the fabric of all their interchanges so far. It had been sex between them from the very first second he had laid eyes on her. The way she had sassed and taunted him.

  “Come on, baby,” she sought to urge him into motion. “Let
’s do it.”

  “Beg me, Nyssa.” His teeth went for her nipple. This sweet little body was fucking his. He had swatted this hot little ass and he was inside this hot little pussy—this woman they all wanted on the hologrid, this defiant little fem.

  “Please…”

  “That’s not begging.” He chastised her with a sharp bite, the rubbery, swollen nipple yielding to the vise of his carefully applied teeth.

  “You…motherfucker,” she stifled a scream.

  Theron withdrew his cock nearly to the tip. “I said beg.”

  “F-fuck me, Theron!” Her tune changed to a pliant pant. “I-I need it… I’ll fucking do anything.”

  “You already do plenty…for your mem friends.” Stars…listen to him, he was sounding like her dominant wannabe.

  “They…they aren’t anything.”

  “You asked for this,” he reminded, though they were both guilty here, a mutual disaster.

  “Theron, I’m begging you…make me come.”

  “You’re a fem,” he reminded, to little point. “I’m primale.”

  “I need to fucking come,” she whined. “Pretty please, with sprinko cream on top of it.”

  Theron slammed his cock to the hilt. “That’s enough, woman. The next sounds out of your mouth had better be moans.”

  “Yes…yes,” she concurred, the sounds coming in stabs of breath.

  Theron pulled out and thrust again. Even here, she’d defied him. “Yes is a word, not a moan.”

  She reached up to bite his shoulder. He gloried in the feel of her sharp little teeth. This was a woman, all right—like a she-cat off the veldts of Sirius Seven.

  Releasing her wrists, he placed both palms down on the bed on either side of her. It was time to devour, time to fuck for real. Nyssa took advantage of the opportunity to reach with both hands, blue syntho-tipped nails digging into his upper arms.

  She wanted blood, this one.

  Theron’s rhythm made the bed scream out before it did Nyssa. He hoped the syntho-brass would hold up. Nyssa clung to him as he lifted again and again, driving her down. It was like float-forming, or bari-sailing. Except with pleasure, two bodies clinging. Was her ass stinging? It sure was red from where he’d disciplined her. Nothing like a good hand spanking to stir the primale juices, or so his mated colleagues had told him.