Chapter Four
Ajax
My new Mistress was a tiny little thing, but I could feel her power. Master Kieran fell somewhere below Abbott’s top five people, and yet he was nearly as strong as the former Master of Maryland. My former Master.
And Gwen was nearly as strong as her husband.
Position three meant I was holding her with her legs open, but she clearly knew the positions as well, because she put her legs up so her knees were at her shoulders, and I only had to wrap my arms around her legs and her torso without the need to manhandle her into position.
Once I’d cradled her and supported her, she let her knees relax so her legs bent down, over my arms.
“Today, you’ll torture her nipples while I make her feel good.” Kieran switched to telepathy. If you don’t hurt her enough, you’ll spend a few hours in a ball crusher.
He’d explained earlier how this was going to work.
There’d be times Kieran would want me to hold my mistress while he tortured her, and that there’d be times he’d want me to hurt her while the vampire made his wife feel good.
And there would be times the two of them would torture me together, of course.
My hips wanted to move to readjust the chastity device.
I hated it. My former master hadn’t bothered with using cold steel to control my cock.
My mind had to be completely focused on driving him and protecting him.
I wasn’t a sex slave, so I wasn’t taught to get horny at the drop of a hat.
Instead, I’d been harshly trained not to get aroused when sexual things were happening in the back of the limo.
I’d been taught to do my job, no matter what.
During my first round of sex slave training, I’d had to learn to get hard on command.
However, my later focus training undid all of that, and I’d never been required to do it again.
My former Master would go into my head and make my dick hard if one of his associates wanted to play with me.
The Vampire Master of a neighboring state often sent his second in command when he was invited.
Her name was Valerie, and she was a bitch on wheels — and she always asked for me.
She’d been given the true death while I was still a slave, and I’d been severely punished for silently rejoicing in her demise when I found out.
Of course, I’d done so around her people, so I hadn’t given my Master much of a choice.
I didn’t know much about my new Mistress.
Would she be cruel? Why was her husband keeping us apart by not allowing communication?
It wasn’t my place to question him, and yet, I couldn’t help but wonder about his reasons.
It was at this moment I realized living on my own had fundamentally changed me.
Once upon a time, I’d have never considered questioning motives on this level.
Observing general temperament and responding with your owner’s mood in mind is self-preservation, but questioning long-term orders, even silently, isn’t healthy for a slave.
Was Master Abbott right? Would I eventually be more servant than slave? Had it already happened?
“I expect that, even blindfolded, you know where to find a woman’s nipples?”
Master Kieran’s voice brought me back to the present, and I rubbed my hands up the Mistress’s round curves, found her breasts, and pinched her nipples between my forefingers and thumbs.
Her moan was a mix of pleasure and pain, and she arched her hips, as if begging her husband to pay attention to her pussy.
Was she shaved? Would she be bare? You never knew with the old ones. Sometimes they like to follow trends, but sometimes they get all snobby about keeping things the way they’re used to doing them.
I caught myself, again, at calling an old one a snob. Not because it’s untrue, but because slaves simply don’t think this way. I’d been with Kieran nearly a month and had seen myself as his slave during our feed-and-fuck sessions. Why were things suddenly different with his wife here?
I focused on the two of them, but as an analyst and not a sexual partner.
An erection would be painful in the cruel steel chastity device, so it was best I didn’t get hard.
I concentrated on Mistress Gwen’s reactions.
When her husband had her on the edge of an orgasm, I was especially cruel to her nipples.
From what I could tell, he spent a great deal of time using his mouth and tongue on her pussy, then he used fingers and possibly some tools, but nothing that vibrated.
He alternated between her pussy and her ass, though I only knew it because of the difference in her scent.
She smelled more like a horny woman when he was in her pussy, and a great deal more subservient when he was in her ass.
She enjoyed both, but she’d likely been born into a time when only those without a choice had to give up their ass.
Finally, he fucked her, and once again went back and forth between her pussy and ass. From what I could tell, he did so without warning. Since vampires don’t shit, there’s never a mess when you use their ass.
Four times, I thought he’d worked her up to her final orgasm, certain he’d exhausted her sexually.
Each of those four times, I hurt her breasts and nipples until her screams communicated both extreme pleasure and intense pain.
It felt necessary to hurt her a little more than the last time, during each cycle.
And so, when she was finally limp and exhausted in my arms, her poor breasts and nipples were warm, despite the fact vampires don’t make their own heat. If she’d been a human or a shapeshifter, they’d have been on fire.
“Turn her in your arms, Ajax. Position thirty-three, so she can have another drink.”
I’d learned five positions a day, and been quizzed on them extensively with a large rag doll. Electricity to one’s cock, balls, and ass provides a lot of incentive to learn a lesson quickly.
Number thirty-three wasn’t a sexual position, but a nurturing one. Like holding a baby, except her mouth was higher so she could drink from me while I cradled her to me.
In this moment, I decided to stop trying to figure out what Master Kieran wanted from me.
He was in charge, and I only needed to follow orders.
He clearly didn’t want me to be on friendly terms with his wife — he’d forbidden both of us from speaking to the other, and he’d just ordered me to torture a specific part of her body.
And yet, now he had me treating her as one would a treasured child.
Or an injured vampire.
The entire episode reminded me that slaves only need to follow orders.
Nothing more. Nothing less. Do as you’re told, when you’re told to do it.
You don’t need to understand why. Bodyguards must use diligence to keep the Master safe, but I’d learned how to do my job without stepping out of my role as slave.
My body went on alert but I remained relaxed.
Gwen sank her fangs into me without using painkiller, but she sent plenty of the feel-good stuff into my veins and arteries while she took long, hard pulls from my neck.
I suppressed a pleasured groan. This dichotomy of pleasure and pain from the same act was one of my favorites.
She took a lot and I grew a little lightheaded, but I wasn’t worried.
I wanted her to take more. And more. These were the moments that addicted slaves to their Masters.
I’d have given anything to live in that moment forever.