Читать книгу The Pleasure Palace - Evangeline Anderson - Страница 11

“From the moment you step foot on Syrus Six, you must attend your Mistress at all times. You will obey her every command, you will anticipate her every wish, you will serve her in any way that she requires and you will take pleasure in it.” Faron’s voice was as close to harsh as Tyson had ever heard it. The Glameron was standing in the center of the round central chamber and lecturing them both. Shaina sat in one of the comfortable real-wood chairs, but Ty was kneeling on the real-wood floor at Shaina’s feet—the only proper position for a slave, Faron insisted—and his knees were beginning to ache.

“Look.” Holding on to his temper with both hands, he shifted to try and get into a more comfortable position. “I know we have to be convincing, but is it really necessary for me to act so…I don’t know…”

“Slavishly devoted to me?” Shaina finished for him, holding one slim hand over her mouth. He knew she was trying to suppress a smile.

“You’re enjoying this entirely too much,” he shot at her through their symbi-link. She didn’t answer, only widened her green eyes and pressed her fingertips to her chest in a “who, me?” gesture. Ty grinned and shook his head.

“Master Tyson, it is absolutely essential that you are utterly and completely devoted to your mistress. You must give yourself to her body and soul without reservation and it must be obvious to anyone watching you.” Faron’s tone was emphatic. “It must be obvious because you have elected to present yourself as a Love slave.”

“A what?” This got Ty’s attention, and Shaina looked interested, too.

“A Love slave. You have refused to wear the pain-inducing collar most Masters employ to keep their slaves in check. Only a very trustworthy and loved slave, one who has proven his loyalty and worth many times over, can be trusted without the collar. A Love slave.”

“Love slave, hmm. That has definite possibilities.” Ty grinned at Shaina, who blushed and looked down at her hands

“It is no laughing matter.” The Glameron’s tone was sharp. “Please be serious, both of you. You must begin acting as Mistress and slave. Tyson, you will follow your Mistress everywhere unless she dismisses you. You will keep your eyes down and you will not speak unless spoken to. You will help her bathe and dress with careful attention to detail. You will eat on the floor at her feet and you will sleep in her chamber at the foot of her bed unless she requires your services.”

“Goddess…” This from Shaina, who was now nearly scarlet with embarrassment.

“Mistress McCullough,” Faron rounded on her. “This will never do! You must get over your embarrassment now. Tyson will be acting as your pleasure slave and as such he will service you sexually both in private and in public. Do you understand?”

“I…yes. I understand. But do they really…in public, I mean?”

“Child,” Faron’s voice was weary and infinitely gentle. “Yes. The Executor’s Palace is dedicated entirely to sensual and sexual pleasure. In every room, no matter the activity in progress—eating, gaming, sleeping—there is always the pursuit of sexual pleasure as well. Everyone you see will be engaged in these activities; and if you and Tyson do not, then you will appear suspicious. I understand that you want to preserve your innocence, but preserving your life and the lives of your partner, and Master Paul when you find him, must take precedence.”

Shaina bowed her head, taking the lecture in silence, and Tyson felt sorry for her suddenly. True, he wanted her, had wanted her from the first moment he laid eyes on her, but not like this…

“I don’t want your pity.” Her green eyes flashed at him and he sighed.

“Fine. I just don’t like the idea of something like this being forced on you. Maybe we can try and fake at least some of it.”

“Really? Do you think that’s possible?” Her eyes were softer now, filled with a tentative hope. She really was afraid of him, Tyson realized, at least in that way. He wished privately that he could make her understand that despite his D’Lonian heritage he wasn’t just some sexual animal that wanted to ravage and rape, that he would never do anything to hurt her.

“We’ll try.”

“All right.” Faron had waited patiently throughout their symbi-link exchange and Ty reverted to verbal conversation. “I understand the public display thing, but why did you say I would have to…uh…service McCullough in public and in private?” They both looked at Faron expectantly. The Glameron sighed and shook his head.

“Goddess give me strength. Because, Master, Mistress, no place is private at the Executor’s Pleasure Palace. There are surveillance devices everywhere. Why else would the Chancellor go to the trouble and expense of having you both injected with symbiotes? No matter how private your chamber may appear, be assured that your every move is being recorded. In fact, the most entertaining displays are shown in the viewing room on a continuous holo-loop. Do you begin to see?”

“I think we get the picture,” Ty answered for both of them.

“And can you do this? Goddess knows I would go myself if my face were not already known and entered in the memory loops there. My children”—Faron’s voice grew softer—“I understand how difficult this is for you both. When a dominant and submissive change roles in a relationship, it always makes for a difficult time.”

“Wait a minute. Who said anything about Shaina and me being dominant or submissive?” He shifted on the floor once again. Damn, it was really hard, but he guessed he’d better get used to it.

Faron laughed gently. “Would you say to me, Master Tyson, that you would rather wear the leash than hold it?”

“Well no, but who would?” Ty looked bewildered.

“Mistress McCullough would,” the Glameron answered softly, looking at Shaina with his endlessly swirling eyes. “She would wear the leash and submit to you. It would be far more suited to her emotional needs than it is to yours. If your roles could be reversed in this, then you might be a good deal more convincing. Then again, if you played your true roles in such a setting, for even a short period of time, I wonder if you would ever be able to relinquish them.”

“Ty may be dominant but I’m not a submissive.” Shaina turned red all over again and shifted in her seat, voice forceful.

“Say that through the link,” Tyson dared her, looking up from his seat on the floor to challenge her with his eyes.

“I…I don’t want to.”

“You can’t. You’re the one who noticed how hard it is to lie this way.”

“Get back to the business at hand.”

Shaina shifted in her seat uncomfortably again, the long, golden split skirt rustling as she moved. Tyson noticed that throughout their conversation she had been especially careful to keep her legs together and her arms down. He remembered how beautiful and full her creamy breasts had looked pushed up on display in the golden bustier, and his leather pants began to get uncomfortably tight as he wished he had sucked her nipples instead of just kissing the tops of her breasts. “Gladly, Mistress.” He scooted closer to her chair so that he could take her booted feet in his lap. Slowly, he began to ease the soft golden boots down her legs.

“Tyson!” she protested, trying to pull her legs away.

“No, Mistress McCullough, allow your slave to service you. His touch on your body must become as natural to you as your own,” Faron said sternly, watching their performance with a critical eye. “In fact, I perceive that the two of you are not nearly as comfortable with each other as you should be to play these roles believably. Stand at once, both of you.”

Shaina stood immediately. Giving the Glameron an unfriendly glare, Tyson did as well. He didn’t like being ordered around.

“Well?” he said when he and Shaina were standing side by side, looking expectantly at their instructor.

“Face each other,” Faron said. “Now, Tyson, touch your Mistress.”

Uncertain of what he was supposed to do, Tyson laid a hand on one slight shoulder. He felt Shaina trembling with tension beneath his touch, thrumming under his hand like a plucked string. Again he became aware of her fear and trepidation about getting too close to him, of letting herself be too vulnerable.

“Shaina, I would never hurt you, I swear.” He touched her other shoulder as well, wanting to ease her anxiety.

“I…I’m not afraid of you, Ty.” He could taste her desperate desire to make both him and herself believe it. Faron’s voice broke into their intense concentration.

“Touch her not as a stranger, Tyson,” the Glameron instructed sternly. “Touch her as a lover, as a part of your own body, for that is what she must become to you.”

“All right.” Tyson frowned briefly at Faron and then turned his attention back to his partner. “Sorry, McCullough.”

“That’s okay. Just…just do what you have to do.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and bit her lip as though trying to prepare herself for some savage sexual attack. The look on her face, the outright fear, squeezed Tyson’s heart. Instead of groping her body or fondling her breasts as she so clearly expected, he cradled her beautiful face in his hands and leaned in to give her a gentle kiss on the lips.

“What…?” Shaina’s eyes flew open at the tender touch and Ty stroked along the smooth white column of her neck, letting his fingers trail over her collarbones and shoulders in a leisurely fashion.

“Just following orders, sweetheart.” Smiling, he looked down into her ocean-green eyes. He ran his hands lower, grazing over the gold jacket she wore, feeling the hard little nubs of her nipples under the thin, scratchy fabric. Again she shivered beneath his touch but this time he knew the shiver, though still half fear, was also half pleasure. Still lower his hands traveled until he was stroking the stiff cloth of her outer skirt. Parting it at the center slit, he moved his hands inside.

“Ty…” She bit her lip again as his palm caressed the soft skin of her thighs, his thumbs brushing perilously close to the golden panties.

“Want me to stop?” She didn’t answer—couldn’t answer, he realized, and he took her silence for assent. Gently, he rested one large palm against the front panel of her panties, feeling the opening in the fabric and the soft, damp mound of curls that it revealed. Warm, wet heat pulsed beneath his hand and he couldn’t help letting one finger slide gently along her slit, dipping inward to caress her slippery flesh, gliding over her tender clitoris, making her jerk against him and cry out in helpless pleasure. God, her skin was so sweet and moist. He ached to drop to his knees before her, spread the pink outer lips of her pussy wide and tongue her warm, wet folds. To kiss her and suck her and lick her until she couldn’t stand the pleasure and begged him to take her, to make her his. He wanted to Bond with her so damn badly, to make her belong to him…

“Bond how? I don’t understand.” Eyes wide, her pupils dilated with fear and desire, and a look of confusion came over her face. Ty realized she must have caught his last thought.

“Nothing.” He abruptly dropped his hand and stepped back a little.

“That was excellent, Tyson,” Ty jumped Faron’s voice. He had forgotten the Glameron was even there. When he was touching Shaina, the whole universe narrowed down to just the two of them, to her warmth against him and their need for each other. A need she still stubbornly refused to acknowledge.

“It is Mistress McCullough’s turn now,” Faron said. Tyson watched his partner closely as she blushed almost as red as her hair.

“All right.” Tentatively, she reached out with one slender hand and caressed his dark hair back from his forehead. It was a timid touch and it made him impatient.

“I won’t bite, McCullough.”

“Don’t rush me! Close your eyes; this is too hard with you watching me.”

“Fine.” He did as she asked and after a moment he felt her hand return. She was more sure of herself this time. Shaina traced over his heavy brows and dark lashes with feather-light strokes that sent a chill of anticipation down his spine. She explored the bridge of his sharp nose and his high cheekbones and then he felt one curious finger tracing his lips. Ty opened his mouth and sucked the inquisitive digit inside, stroking it with his tongue and licking gently, hearing a long, low sigh fall out of her as he did.

“Want to lick you all over, sweetheart.” He opened his eyes at last to see her watching him, fascination and need written all over her sweet face.

“Ty…” Withdrawing her finger, she moved her hands down to caress his neck and shoulders, to feel the tense muscles under her palms. He had to close his eyes again as her fingers slid over his chest and nipples, flicking the flat, coppery disks lightly before continuing down his abdomen to the straining bulge in his tight leather pants.

“Go on, Mistress McCullough. He is your property. Every part of him belongs to you,” Ty heard Faron’s voice encouraging her. Still he felt her hesitate.

“Go on, Shaina.” He made his mental tone as gentle as he could although his nerves were in overdrive. “Touch me if you want to. Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid!” She rose to the bait as Ty had known she would and he felt her slim fingers tracing his shaft and then grasping him fully through the tight leather. He had to hold himself back forcibly as she stroked him, wishing he could make the leather between them disappear so he could feel her cool hand encircle his naked cock. He could hear her wondering if he was really that big. He was about to answer through their link when Faron interrupted them.

“That will do, my children.” At the Glameron’s voice, Shaina’s hand fell away, leaving Ty aching with need and frustration. “You are more familiar with each other now. Remember this lesson. Now you must make ready to go. Syrus Six is fast approaching.”

They stepped apart awkwardly and Shaina wouldn’t meet Ty’s eyes.

“What do you think, McCullough? Are we ready to go?” He tried to keep the mood light despite the rigid ache in his pants.

“Absolutely.” She risked a glance at his face. “Maybe…maybe owning a pleasure slave won’t be so bad after all.”

Privately, Tyson thought that being a pleasure slave might not be so bad if it meant getting to touch Shaina all the time and feeling her hands on his body as well.