Kriss activated the release mechanism and out of the ceiling dropped a hemp rope, the softest kind—even a droid’s artificial skin needed careful handling. Jago took her wrist and directed it toward the loop in the rope. He met no resistance from her. Whatever her face was telling him, her body was still his to command, and she knew it.
The pulley drew her arm up, locking her elbow straight above her head.
“Part your legs,” he said.
More negative ambivalence spread across her face. But her legs spread an appropriate distance apart. Kriss reached down and activated the floor panel. Two coils of rope snaked their way around her ankles and anchored her to the spot on the floor.
Kriss fetched the zapper—an innocuous-looking device with a smooth handle and a thin rod that measured no longer than his arm. She gazed at it with wide open eyes.
“A cane?”
Jago had no clue what she meant by that word. “It’s used to administer a sting line. It’s self-regulating.”
“What does that mean?” When Kriss moved forward to conduct an assessment, she leaned away from it.
“Keep still,” Kriss said impatiently. “Remember your free hand must agitate your nub and make it come again.”
“There is no way I can orgasm strung up like this.” She glared at him for a second before turning her head toward Jago. “Please, sir. I’m not lying. This isn’t natural for me.”
Jago rubbed his chin. He was torn between complying with her wish and doing what his rock-hard cock wanted. Like Kriss, the sight of a real woman coming, the gush of essence and plume of heat around her throat, which no droid could ever mimic properly, was addictive.
“Put the zapper on a low setting,” he told Kriss. “Highest level of feedback, too.”
Kriss shrugged his disappointment and carried out the order—brothers they might be, but Jago outranked him militarily.
“Feedback,” she stuttered, swaying her body away from the tip of the zapper.
“Yes. Clever thing. It has sensors along its length and it will determine the most suitable quantity of pain to deliver to your ass. It can deliver multiple zaps in succession, each tailored to your responses. The purpose is to ensure your skin is left intact—can you imagine Kriss here, armed with a stick, lashing your behind with his thick muscles? He might mark you permanently, and unintentionally. This way is controlled.”
She eyed the zapper. “I think I would prefer the other way, on the floor,” she said. “Machines go wrong.”
He laughed. “You must have faith in the apparatus.”
Kriss stood next to her, allowing himself the privilege of seeing both her front and back. He slowly positioned the zapper, choosing to place it across the middle part of her bottom. She flinched.
“It’s reading.” He waited. “Intensity two.” He pulled a face. “I was expecting one.”
“Which is worse, one or two?” she asked, trying to stand on tiptoes.
“It goes up to ten. So you’re not going to be tested too hard,” Jago replied. He moved to stand in front of her and tipped up her chin. Her lips continued to tremble, and her breathing was labored and fast. He captured her spare hand in his and lowered it, making sure she followed his direction.
“Here, Shayla.” He tapped her fingers against her slit. Slowly, he drew her hand up and her fingers trailed behind, dipping between her wet folds, still dripping from her last orgasm. “There, yes?”
She gasped. “Yes.”
“You can do this,” he said quietly. “I think you want to do this. You need the orgasm, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“It calls to you.” He maintained his grip on her wrist, but the second time he angled her hand down, she molded her fingers into the folds of her sex and used the tips to seek out her clitoris.
Jago nodded at Kriss.
She screeched. Kriss had activated a sequence, probably one that grew in intensity from zero to two, the maximum it would inflict until she learned to take more. Her breasts jiggled right in front of him and to his delight, she rubbed her clit. He let go of her wrist. She didn’t need his help.
Kriss lowered the zapper a fraction, resting it against her skin, and the device assessed a fresh area. She rocked onto her toes, her raised arm tensing in anticipation.
Jago couldn’t resist testing her mettle. “Ask to be punished, Shayla.”