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)
“You mean when I was worshipping your soft little pussy with my tongue?” His golden eyes were suddenly half-lidded and his voice had dropped to a lustful growl.
“Well…yes.” Lucy felt herself blushing again, her cheeks getting hot at his direct words. “Like I said, I’m sorry I scratched you and…er, pulled your hair.”
T’zaren looked at her intently.
“It was my pleasure to bear pain for you, my S’rentha,” he said softly. “I would rather have pain from you than pleasure from anyone else.”
“Oh…” Lucy took a hasty gulp of her cinnamon drink, trying to steady her nerves and think what to say next. “I’ll still try to be more careful in the future,” she offered at last.
T’zaren shook his head.
“You might not be able to. Who knows what Mistress Shin’dara will require from us in order to make the deal for the dimriel?”
Lucy frowned stubbornly.
“I don’t care what she says, I’m not going to hurt you! Not going to treat you like she treats those poor guards!”
“I’d rather bear a little pain and humiliation than come back to the Mother Ship empty-handed,” T’zaren said simply.
“But the way she treats them! Making them kiss her boots and thank her for punishing them!” Lucy protested. “What if she asked me to do something awful like that to you, T’zaren?”
He looked her in the eyes.
“Then I would submit to my S’rentha and do whatever she commanded,” he said calmly.
Lucy shook her head.
“How can you talk like that? Surely you can’t be serious about submitting to…to that kind of abuse!”
T’zaren gave her a level look.
“I would do anything to save my home—to save the Mother Ship. Anything. Please remember that when Mistress Shin’dara expects you to act like a real Dom’mesque and don’t hesitate to do what she requires.”
“But—” Lucy began, frowning.
“Anything,” T’zaren interrupted her. “Do whatever she demands. We must complete our mission—the entire Mother Ship is counting on us.”
Lucy wanted to protest again that there were some things she just wasn’t willing to do—some lines she wouldn’t cross. But just then the door to the Banquet Hall opened and a guard stuck his head in.
“Excuse me, Lady Lucille, but the Loyalty Ceremony is about to start in the Throne Room and Mistress Shin’dara has requested your presence.”
Lucy nodded.
“All right—we’re coming.” She turned to T’zaren and took the end of the black leather leash which dangled down his broad, bare chest in one hand. “Let’s go,” she said.
“As you wish, my Dom’mesque.” T’zaren nodded his head.
Lifting her chin, Lucy led him out of the Banquet Hall and down the corridor to the Throne Room. She knew that the big Monstrum behind her was committed to finishing their mission, no matter what. And Lucy was committed, too.
But she couldn’t seem to help it—she had a bad feeling as they approached the Throne Room where the sadistic Mistress Shin’dara was waiting for them.
A very bad feeling indeed.
THIRTY-NINE
LUCY
The Throne Room of the stronghold looked completely different than it had when they had entered it the day before. Somehow all the sparkling white marble had been turned to black and all the pastel flower arrangements had disappeared. Even the white, feathery, floating chandeliers had been changed. Their feathers were gone and something that looked like black leather bat wings had been attached in their place.
The throne itself, where Mistress Shin’dara sat, was different too. Instead of the many pillows and cushions, there was an overlay of spikes on the seat and the back of the throne. It looked incredibly uncomfortable, but the Twainer was sitting there in apparent ease, her leather cat suit stretched tightly over her voluptuous body. Her back was still completely hidden by the long, white veil which now seemed to be stained red in places.
At Mistress Shin’dara’s feet crouched a miserable looking male who Lucy recognized as one of the guards. He was completely naked and the Twainer was using his as a living footstool.
“Wow,” Lucy murmured as the guard announced her and they stepped over the threshold. “This is…different. And not in a good way.”
“Changes have certainly been made,” T’zaren murmured.
Lucy would have said more but she saw that Mistress Shin’dara was beckoning to her.
“There you are! Come and watch the ceremony,” she called to Lucy.
Lucy ducked her head in a bow and made her way between the rows of assembled guards to the seat which had been saved for her—a leather wingback chair that would have looked at home in a study or private library back home. It was sitting right beside the throne, close enough that she and Mistress Shin’dara would be able to talk if they wanted to—which Lucy didn’t.
She wanted to keep her distance from the Twainer—especially after what T’zaren had told her—that Shin’dara might have a third form which was deadly-dangerous. Unfortunately, keeping her distance wasn’t an option—not if she wanted the dimriel. So she smiled politely and settled herself on the leather chair while T’zaren stood at her side.