Chapter 35 Braze
brAZE
Braze debated with himself as he stood outside the door to Kaitlyn’s suite. Should he go through with this? Why should he put himself through the pain?
He was almost certain he knew what she was going to say.
She was going to tell him their relationship could never be the same, after what had happened between them on Salimba Prime.
She might be nice about it, but he was sure he would see the pity and disgust in her eyes—the feelings he was certain he must have raised in her.
We went too far, too fast, he thought ruefully. Maybe if we’d had time together—a lot more time—we could have worked up to letting her fuck me.
If she’d wanted to, that was. It certainly wasn’t something he would have suggested to her or asked for if he hadn’t been under the influence of the Love Vine tea.
Of course, if she had expressed interest in it first, he most probably would have submitted, but that would have been weeks or months down the road.
If only they hadn’t been forced into it too quickly. If only—
His train of thought was cut off by the sound of the door to her suite whooshing open. He opened his mouth to speak…and shut it again. He was literally rendered speechless by Kaitlyn’s outfit.
She stood there, dressed head-to-toe in black leather. She wore a black bustier that laced up the front and pushed her breasts up like exotic fruit on the tray. Her nipples were hidden only by a thin fan of black lace, but still visible if he looked closely enough.
Below, she had on a short black leather skirt and thigh-high black boots with spike heels that made her a good six inches taller. Indeed, she was only half a head shorter than him now—nearly on eye-level.
Her long black and silver hair, which she usually kept back, was loose around her shoulders and she had her arms crossed and a stern look on her face.
Fuck! She’s gorgeous! Braze couldn’t help thinking. Though her outfit was unlike the flowing clothing of Yonnie Six, she somehow reminded him of the Mistresses who lived there. His cock was suddenly pressing hard against the fly of his black uniform trousers as he took her in.
For a long moment, they just looked at each other. Then she frowned at him and said,
“Well? What are you waiting for? Come in.”
She stepped aside and Braze found himself obeying her orders and marching into the living area of her suite.
He had been here so many times during their time working together that he knew the place by heart.
There was the overstuffed brown leather sofa where Kaitlyn loved to curl up and read.
Across from it was the flame-wall—a tall crystalline barrier that trapped the gold and blue flames dancing behind it.
Kaitlyn had turned the other lights in the living area down so that the flame-wall provided the only illumination. This cast the room in shadows and gave it a whole different feel—it seemed more mysterious and tempting—than the warm, comfortable space he was used to.
“Kaitlyn?” he said, looking at her as she came to stand beside him. “What’s going on here?”
“We’re going to talk,” she said simply. “And you may call me ‘Mistress.’ I haven’t given you permission to call me by my first name.”
Braze frowned but he felt a tingle of emotion at her words.
“Fine,” he said pointedly not using the title. “But there is nothing to talk about.”
“There’s a lot to talk about. Our partnership…the future…and the past.”
Her voice was cool and smooth—something about the way she spoke sent a shiver down his spine.
“The past?” He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “What do you mean by that?”
“Sit down and we’ll get into it.” She seated herself on the couch and Braze started to sit beside her, but she shook her head. “No. On the floor—at my feet,” she commanded.
A mixture of emotions rushed through him. Anger that she was ordering him around…but also excitement and pleasure at her tone of command. It reminded him of the way Mistress Lovelyone had spoken to him when she trained him to be the perfect bodyslave, so many years ago.
Still, he stood there, unsure of what to do. Should he sit? Should he acknowledge her power over him? Or should he turn and walk away, rejecting the part of himself that hungered for her…that craved to submit to her?
Kaitlyn seemed to see the struggle on his face.
“Sit now or walk out of here forever,” she said. Her tone softened. “I don’t want that, and I don’t think you do either. So come on—sit.”
Reluctantly, Braze settled on the floor. He had to sit with his legs spread—his shaft was rock-hard for some reason, though he hardly liked to admit it, even to himself.
“All right,” he growled, looking up at her. “I’m sitting. Now what the fuck do you want?”
Kaitlyn frowned at him.
“Language,” she said sternly. “Please watch how you speak to me. I won’t tolerate disrespect.”
Braze fought to keep the surprise from his face.
Was this the Kaitlyn he knew? She was usually soft-spoken—though he admired the way she almost always got what she wanted during negotiations.
But she didn’t usually speak this way to him.
Again, he was reminded of Mistress Lovelyone—she had been quite stern when she trained him, and secretly, he had loved it.
“Forgive me,” he said formally. “I did not mean to offend.”
“Thank you. Your apology is accepted.” She nodded regally. “Now, let’s talk about your time on Yonnie Six.”
“Yonnie Six?” Braze couldn’t keep the surprise off his face. He’d expected her to ask why he had stopped talking to her after she’d fucked him on Salimba Prime or maybe why he’d tried to dissolve their partnership without asking her first. Instead, she was asking about his distant past. Why?
“Yes, Yonnie Six,” she repeated. “Tell me all about it—I want to know everything.”
Braze’s stomach clenched into a fist, and he was suddenly swamped with a mixture of emotions—shame, fear, desire—they were overwhelming and he found he couldn’t get a word out of his mouth.
Again, Kaitlyn seemed to understand his struggle.
“How did you end up there in the first place?” she prompted gently. “Let’s start there.”
“I…my ship was captured. By pirates—outside the Frellian Sector,” he said, the words rising to his lips naturally now that she had asked him a specific question.
“I see.” She nodded. “And what happened to you after that? Did the pirates sell you to a Mistress?”
He shook his head.
“Not directly. They took me—along with a lot of other captives—to the Flesh Bazaar.”
“The Flesh Bazaar?” she asked, frowning.
“It’s this huge auction—where almost all of the Mistress of Yonnie Six buy their bodyslaves.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the Bazaar. The smell of leather and blood and sweat…the sounds of slaves crying and merchants calling their wares…the feeling of being bound and naked, kneeling on a pedestal where anyone could poke or prod him…
“Tell me about it—who bought you?” Kaitlyn asked gently.
“A Yonnite Mistress—Mistress Lovelyone,” he said.
He closed his eyes, remembering the touch of her small, cool hand on his heated flesh.
“I was bound…naked on display,” he went on, aloud.
“I’d been poked and prodded…had my shaft yanked on and my ass tested by so many fingers by then, I was caught in a snarl of hate and fury. But then…she came.”
“And what did she do?” Kaitlyn’s voice seemed to come from far away. He still had his eyes closed, remembering.
“Touched me…just touched me. But her touch was soothing—kind instead of cruel and teasing. She stroked my forehead and murmured, “Poor boy—they have used you ill indeed, have they not?” He gave a choked laugh. “She always talked like that—so fucking flowery. But…I liked it.”
“So she bought you and took you home with her?” Kaitlyn asked.
He nodded.
“Back to her tower in downtown Opulex. She was really rich—she owned a whole building herself. But she only lived on the very top floor—in the penthouse suite,” he added.
“I see. And how old were you when she bought you?” Kaitlyn asked.
“Nineteen or twenty cycles, I think,” he murmured. “And she was twenty cycles older at least—wise in the ways of the word. At least, wise in the ways of Yonnie Six.”
“And what did she do to you. While she kept you captive?” Kaitlyn asked softly.
“Trained me.” He shrugged, his shoulders rolling. “To be the perfect bodyguard and the perfect bodyslave.”
“What’s the difference?” Kaitlyn asked.
“A bodyguard keeps his Mistress safe and secure. A bodyslave serves her other ways…sexually.” His voice had dropped and gone gravelly as he thought of his training.
“She taught me to please her…to taste her.” He gave a mirthless laugh.
“It wasn’t hard to train me—I’m a Kindred and we already have a biological need to taste the woman we crave.
It’s one reason so many of us have been kidnapped to serve as bodyslaves to Yonnie Mistresses.
That and the fact that we refuse to hurt a woman—even one holding us in bondage. ”
“That seems really unfair—you must have been miserable,” Kaitlyn said.
Braze almost nodded in agreement…but he couldn’t do it. Something about this moment compelled him to tell the truth.
“No,” he said in a low voice. “I had a hard time adjusting to losing my freedom at first. But after that, I fucking loved it. Loved kneeling before her, waiting for her orders…loved the way she pushed my face between her thighs and ordered me to please her with my tongue.”
He closed his eyes, and for a moment, the scent of leather and Kaitlyn’s perfume was replaced by the memory of spiced incense and cool marble…