Each of those tiny lashes landed accurately. Her delicate tissue wasn’t damaged, neither was her tailbone or pussy folds. He merely tenderized her bottom hole and she knew what was coming next. More punishments. More amazing punishments.
“Good girls are allowed to have an orgasm.” The last lick came on that reminder.
She swooned with delight at the thought of her impending orgasm. The thought of it washed away all other negative emotions. He moved closer until the warmth of his breath cascaded down her back. Drawing her up, he snaked the whip around her, then kissed her neck from behind. He peppered her shoulder with a flourish of kisses.
“Beautiful. Beguiling,” he muttered between each one.
She heard the whip clatter on the floor, followed by the removal of his clothes. The oil trickled along her furrow and he smeared it into her hole with his fingers. First her pussy, then her asshole. She reached out and held on to the chains, using them to support her weight and bent her body, ready to mold herself beneath him.
“Good girl,” he said as he thrust hard into her wetness. “Come on me as soon as you’re able,” he said with another swing of his hips. “I want to see you come.”
Able? She could do it now, and she achieved an instant climax with a scream of delight.
The rest of her so-called punishment was a hazy blur. There were periods of vigorous activity when Galen was energized and rough with his handling, but never to the point she was afraid or in pain. Then, he switched, just as he had done with the whipping, and he slowed the pace and altered his touches to gentle and encouraging. She reciprocated when she could with her lips and fingers, exploring his rippling muscles, his dark locks of hair and solid buttocks. She reveled in being unfettered. Almost equal to him, but never free. Glory be! It was close to perfection.
On and across the bed, they tumbled until even he, the mighty Vendu alpha was tired. “Good, little human,” he murmured sleepily. “You’ll stay in here from now on, remember?”
“Yes, sir.” She had achieved it—lying in his arms as he slept on his bed.
The tattoo on his chest was the bear. She pretended to feel the soft fur as her fingertips ran along the proud muscles of his abdomen. A bear with beady eyes and a black snout that rose and fell in time with his breathing. Most unlike the little one in the room she’d abandoned.
She snatched her hand away from the sleeping Galen.
Yes, she’d taken a small step in the right direction. However, she’d abandoned her cuddly teddy bear, which felt like she’d abandoned her sister. She shouldn’t be in his bedroom just because she wanted to be. She needed to be there so she could further her secret mission. Without his support, how could she do it? She had to tell him about April.
Galen dreamt. He grunted and flared his nostrils without waking. The bear was slipping away as the inks rearranged themselves into a new pattern. Not the dragon that shot fiery breath when she sucked his cock, nor was it the stealthy wolf with his hungry eyes and teeth who made love passionately. It was the lion. The bold creature who ruled the pride with a fearsome roar and a crushing bite of his teeth. If he woke as a lion, would he listen to her?
She didn’t know him. How could she? He was a mystery to her as much as she was to him. They had little chance of finding common ground.
Tomorrow she would try to access the mail system again.
Zara turned onto her side and covered her eyes. She felt terrible. Wicked. She wasn’t a good prisoner, never mind a good lover. If only Galen was human; she would tell him everything and sleep easily.
Chapter Twelve
The next day, Zara returned to the study only to find a technician had been called to fully secure the console and surrounding furniture. Galen simply said it should never have happened and he hadn’t been aware that the desk was not suitable for housing such a console. She wouldn’t be able to use the same route to access the mail system. She tried to pretend it didn’t matter, but it did.
She focused on her studies and for the next few days she daren’t do anything that might arouse his suspicions. There had to be another computer system in the house, one used by Bisma or the other servants who came and went as required, but she needed to wait for the right opportunity to find out.
As for her duties in the bedroom, sleeping with Galen was restorative. Gone were the chains and he’d stripped away many of the other rituals. Her clothes and other personal items had been transferred over, including Mr. Cuddles. Although not surprisingly, Galen refused to have him in or even on the bed. Mr. Cuddles sat on a stool by the wall. When they had sex, she rather wished he was facing the other way so he wouldn’t see all the rude things Galen did to her. The demanding judge kept her occupied most evenings, and several mornings, too, and she wasn’t always comfortable thinkin
g about what went on between them. Much of it depended on her either being very obedient or a little naughty. She found a little bit of naughtiness worked well for Galen even if it meant a sore bottom on her part. As for the prescribed features of the ordeal, he seemed to have lost interest in the finer details. As long as she begged him to punish her from time to time, he appeared satisfied.
A week after her whipping she was putting the finishing touches to a report on snow generation at lower altitudes when her concentration was disturbed by the arrival of Bisma. And Doctor Sentaria. Zara sprang to her feet, as expected, and bowed her head, also expected when greeting a Vendu male.
Why was he here? She felt self-conscious and anxious. Would Galen sweep into the room and demand she strip, play with herself, or some other kind of erotic scene for the benefit of the doctor?
She moved around the table and crept toward the door.
“No, Zara, stay,” said Bisma. “Keep the doctor company while I fetch refreshments.”
To Zara’s astonishment, Bisma left her alone with him.
Sentaria wasn’t the least bit uncomfortable. He settled in an armchair and admired his fingers. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to touch you.” He smiled reassuringly. “My appointment is with the judge and so that I might observe him train a new tattoo.”
Slack-jawed, Zara ignored protocol and stared right at his face. “Train a tattoo?”
“Ah, this is so new to you humans. The concept isn’t much different from your own tattoos.” He waved vaguely in her direction.