“You don’t always have to beat your manservant with it,” the seamstress pointed out impatiently. “You can use it for direction or just for sensation play. Honestly, a realDom’mesquewouldknowthese things!” she added.
Lucy examined the crop some more and then hooked it to her side where it dangled by her thigh. She wasn’t going to use it if she could help it, she promised herself. Hopefully just having it would convince Mistress Shin’dara that she was aDom’mesque.
The seamstress, in the meantime, had turned her attention to making a collar and leash and some cock rings for T’zaren. The collar was black leather as was the leash that hung down from the front of it.
“I’m really sorry about this,” Lucy murmured, as she stood on her tiptoes to help T’zaren adjust it so it wasn’t choking him. “I know it can’t be comfortable.”
“Stop that!” the seamstress snapped before the big Monstrum could answer her.
“Stop what?” Lucy looked at her, surprised by her sharp tone.
“Stop apologizing to your manservant!” the seamstress exclaimed. “Stop treating him like an equal! That’s the fastest way to get yourselves killed or kicked out of the stronghold—Mistress Shin’dara will never believe you’re aDom’mesqueif you go on acting like that!”
“She’s right,” T’zaren rumbled. Catching Lucy’s hands in his own much larger ones, he took them away from his collar and placed them firmly by her sides. “You must treat me as you see Mistress Shin’dara treating the males of the stronghold when we meet her,” he told Lucy. “You must remember that I live only to serve and protect you and pleasure you and you mustnottreat me as more than a manservant.”
“But…but what if she’s being cruel to them—to the guards and the staff?” Lucy asked in a small voice, thinking again of the crop that dangled by her side. “I don’t want to hurt you, T’zaren!”
“If you must, you must,” he said firmly. “Lucy, listen to me…” He knelt before her suddenly, surprising her. Taking her hands in his, he looked into her eyes. “In the culture and tradition of my people, it’s considered anhonorfor a male to bear pain for the sake of hisS’rentha,” he told her earnestly. “I will not hold anything you do to me against you—wemustget thedimriel,no matter what we have to do or say to get it. Do you understand?”
Lucy bit her lip.
“I understand,” she said softly. “I’ll do what I have to do, no matter what.”
“No matter what,” T’zaren repeated, nodding. He turned her hands over and placed soft kisses in each palm. As he did so, he held her eyes with his golden gaze. “I will gladly receive either pain or pleasure from you, myS’rentha,”he rumbled. “For pleasure is good and pain is only a deeper pleasure when given by your hands.”
“Oh…” Lucy whispered. It sounded almost like a kind of motto or credo he was quoting. “That’s beautiful, T’zaren. Is…is that how youreallyfeel?”
“Absolutely.” He kissed her hands again and rose smoothly to his feet. “Now put on my cock rings,Dom’mesqueand treat me as your property, not your equal, when you do so.”
“All right.” Lucy took the black leather rings from the seamstress and strapped them around the base of his shafts—both of which were hard now, though she wasn’t sure why. Had kneeling before her and kissing her hands turned the big Monstrum on?
She did the secondary shaft first, since she was considerably more familiar with it and then the primary shaft, which was almost too large for the ring the seamstress had made. It still felt odd to be handling the big Monstrum’s body so intimately, but she reminded herself that he was her property in this scenario and she had to treat him as such.
T’zaren, for his part, stood silent and stoic, not saying a word. If it bothered him to let her stroke and handle him, he certainly didn’t show it. At last, Lucy got the second ring on him and then they were ready to go.
Not a moment too soon, too, because just as she finished fitting the second cock-ring around T’zaren’s large primary shaft, a knock came at the door.
“Yes, just a moment!” Lucy called. She was about to go open the door herself, but then she reconsidered. “Get the door,” she said to T’zaren, who nodded his head respectfully.
“Yes, myS’rentha,” he rumbled and went to open the door to the bedchamber.
Standing outside was one of the guards. In fact, it was one of the men who had let them into the stronghold and led them around yesterday, Lucy saw. But he looked considerably different today.
Instead of body armor, the guard had on a series of black leather straps criss-crossing his broad chest. He still wore boots but a black speedo had replaced his trousers. The brief undergarment had a hole cut out of it from which his cock—which was erect and bound by a cock-ring—protruded. There was a matching black leather collar with silver spikes on it around his thickly corded throat.
The poor guard had a desperately unhappy look on his face, Lucy thought, but he stood stiffly at attention and announced,
“Mistress Shin’dara requests the company of Mistress Lucille, her fellowDom’mesque,at breakfast. Will you be so kind as to join her?”
“Oh—of course.” Lucy ran her fingers through her hair and nodded. “I’d be pleased to.”
“Very good, my Lady,” the guard said. “Then please follow me.”
And he turned and marched down the corridor. Lucy was about to follow, assuming that T’zaren would be right behind when the seamstress hissed,
“The leash, my Lady! Don’t forget to hold his leash!”
“Oh, right—thank you.” Lucy nodded and quickly grabbed the end of the black leather leash which was attached to the big Monstrum’s collar. She and T’zaren exchanged a look and then they headed off down the hallway.