Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“If you must, you must,” he said firmly. “Lucy, listen to me…” He knelt before her suddenly, surprising her. Taking her hands in his, he looked into her eyes. “In the culture and tradition of my people, it’s considered an honor for a male to bear pain for the sake of his S’rentha,” he told her earnestly. “I will not hold anything you do to me against you—we must get the dimriel, no matter what we have to do or say to get it. Do you understand?”
Lucy bit her lip.
“I understand,” she said softly. “I’ll do what I have to do, no matter what.”
“No matter what,” T’zaren repeated, nodding. He turned her hands over and placed soft kisses in each palm. As he did so, he held her eyes with his golden gaze. “I will gladly receive either pain or pleasure from you, my S’rentha,” he rumbled. “For pleasure is good and pain is only a deeper pleasure when given by your hands.”
“Oh…” Lucy whispered. It sounded almost like a kind of motto or credo he was quoting. “That’s beautiful, T’zaren. Is…is that how you really feel?”
“Absolutely.” He kissed her hands again and rose smoothly to his feet. “Now put on my cock rings, Dom’mesque and treat me as your property, not your equal, when you do so.”
“All right.” Lucy took the black leather rings from the seamstress and strapped them around the base of his shafts—both of which were hard now, though she wasn’t sure why. Had kneeling before her and kissing her hands turned the big Monstrum on?
She did the secondary shaft first, since she was considerably more familiar with it and then the primary shaft, which was almost too large for the ring the seamstress had made. It still felt odd to be handling the big Monstrum’s body so intimately, but she reminded herself that he was her property in this scenario and she had to treat him as such.
T’zaren, for his part, stood silent and stoic, not saying a word. If it bothered him to let her stroke and handle him, he certainly didn’t show it. At last, Lucy got the second ring on him and then they were ready to go.
Not a moment too soon, too, because just as she finished fitting the second cock-ring around T’zaren’s large primary shaft, a knock came at the door.
“Yes, just a moment!” Lucy called. She was about to go open the door herself, but then she reconsidered. “Get the door,” she said to T’zaren, who nodded his head respectfully.
“Yes, my S’rentha,” he rumbled and went to open the door to the bedchamber.
Standing outside was one of the guards. In fact, it was one of the men who had let them into the stronghold and led them around yesterday, Lucy saw. But he looked considerably different today.
Instead of body armor, the guard had on a series of black leather straps criss-crossing his broad chest. He still wore boots but a black speedo had replaced his trousers. The brief undergarment had a hole cut out of it from which his cock—which was erect and bound by a cock-ring—protruded. There was a matching black leather collar with silver spikes on it around his thickly corded throat.
The poor guard had a desperately unhappy look on his face, Lucy thought, but he stood stiffly at attention and announced,
“Mistress Shin’dara requests the company of Mistress Lucille, her fellow Dom’mesque, at breakfast. Will you be so kind as to join her?”
“Oh—of course.” Lucy ran her fingers through her hair and nodded. “I’d be pleased to.”
“Very good, my Lady,” the guard said. “Then please follow me.”
And he turned and marched down the corridor. Lucy was about to follow, assuming that T’zaren would be right behind when the seamstress hissed,
“The leash, my Lady! Don’t forget to hold his leash!”
“Oh, right—thank you.” Lucy nodded and quickly grabbed the end of the black leather leash which was attached to the big Monstrum’s collar. She and T’zaren exchanged a look and then they headed off down the hallway.
“Good luck,” my Lady!” the seamstress called after her. And then in an undertone as though she was talking to herself, Lucy heard her mutter, “You’ll need it!”
THIRTY-FIVE
LUCY
“Well, well—good morning! I’m so pleased to have you as my guests on this lovely morning,” Mistress Shin’dara purred when the guard announced Lucy. “It’s always nice to have another Dom’mesque around. And one with such a fascinating manslave too!” she went on as she eyed T’zaren. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a male with two shafts before!”
She looked nothing like Lady Twa’linda, Lucy thought, and yet, there were definite similarities.
For one thing, she had the same pale white skin as the other woman, though her lips had been painted blood red instead of pale pink. Her hair was also pure silver like Lady Twa’linda’s, though it was swept up in a severe but elegant twist at the back of her head rather than hanging loose around her shoulders. At least, Lucy thought it was—the back of the Twainer’s head was hidden from view by a long white veil that was only visible when she turned her head.