Sister Katherine (30 page)

Simdow leaned over her, his still clothed body making contact with hers.  Despite her anxieties, Katherine softened under his kiss.  His lips played over hers, his tongue tasting her with delicacy.  In contradiction to the exquisite near daintiness of the kiss, violent passion surged through Katherine.  She jerked against the warmth of the strong frame covering her.

Simdow rose up to look at her.  His fingers stroked through her hair, and he lifted a handful of curls to examine the golden tresses.  He put the soft tendrils against his face, inhaling and rubbing his cheek against them with a smile of pleasure.

Next, he rubbed his thumb lightly over her forehead, tracing the light worry line that moved across it.  His lips brushed along the length of that, as if he would kiss away the events that had placed the crease there.

The Dramok examined Katherine’s face minutely, memorizing each detail.  The intensity of his gaze when it found her eyes made her close them.

“No, Katherine.  Look at me.”

The command in his voice gave her no escape.  She squirmed but obeyed, feeling just as exposed with him looking into her eyes as with all the secrets of her body disclosed.

Simdow stared for some time, forcing her to endure the probing look.  Katherine felt as if he could read her every thought.  She discovered that being naked wasn’t something that could happen with just her body.  It was as if she lay bare to the soul itself.  She almost wished he would do something to hurt her instead.  Pain was more easily borne than this profound contact of the eyes.

After what was probably no more than two minutes but felt more like two centuries, Simdow smiled and kissed her lips.  “Good girl,” he praised.  “That was difficult for you, but you won through.  I am pleased.”

Tension fled Katherine’s body, to be replaced by a glow of happiness at his approval.  She didn’t question the sense of accomplishment, not when Simdow acknowledged her success at what on the surface would seem a simple thing to do.  All that mattered was his proud smile.

He continued to examine her.  Having his eyes on her throat, shoulders, and upper chest didn’t concern Katherine.  She shivered at his kiss on the hollow of her throat, delighting in the chills it gave her.  The scratchiness of his tongue traversing the length of her collarbones excited her too.

Simdow moved down to her breasts, and she flushed with renewed embarrassment to have something so personal available for his scrutiny.  Yet it wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as when he’d stared into her eyes.  Katherine frowned at herself.  How could that be so?

The discomfiture lessened even more as Simdow touched her breasts.  He cupped his large hands around them, as if to test their weight against each other.  His touch was incredibly warm and the heat sank into her flesh, burrowing deep into the mounds.  It somehow traveled downward from there, pooling in the well of her belly.

The Dramok squeezed slowly, his gaze rising to her face as he did so.  The simmer in her guts rose in temperature as the demanding touch tightened.  When his grip made her flesh ache, Katherine caught her breath.  A little whimper escaped, and Simdow held that tension, neither loosening nor clutching harder.

“Does it hurt?” he asked her.

“A little.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Katherine thought about that.  She was completely under his control, unable to defend herself in any way.  Simdow could hurt her if he chose to.  Katherine didn’t mind pain.  She dealt it to herself through scourging, enjoying the release it gave her.  The endorphins that rose to combat the pain made her feel floaty and serene.  The tiny discomfort Simdow offered now went beyond that.  It made the lava bubbling in her guts roil all the more.  The question was, how far might Simdow go?

The more important consideration was that telling him to stop might make him think she didn’t trust him.  Katherine felt sure she did.  The only way to prove that to herself and Simdow was to abdicate all control.  To completely surrender herself to him.

Katherine held his gaze.  “I want you to do whatever you think is best and will make you happy with me.”

One eyebrow lifted.  “I might test you on that, my Matara.  Dramoks as a rule like to master their sexual partners.  They like their command over the others proven.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words.  The sensation of boiling within her stomach increased, bubbling over until her juices spilled out of her sex.  A throb of purest want stole any resistance from her consciousness.

“I am yours,” Katherine whispered to Simdow.

His grip on her breasts tightened, his fingertips dimpling deep into the giving flesh.  The smarting gave way to distress, and Katherine moaned.  Even as she suffered her back arched, offering the alabaster mounds for his punishment.  Moisture surged from her womanhood, confirming her delight at being Simdow’s for the taking.

Anguish pulsed from her breasts before Katherine uttered a cry of real pain.  Simdow immediately stopped, easing off just enough for the throbbing to return to a more delightful level.  Katherine panted, awash in exhilaration.  It hurt and felt so right at the same time.  She couldn’t have explained why even if Simdow had demanded to know in that new commanding voice. 

“Look at you,” he whispered, his smile deliciously wicked.  “Eyes dilated and glazed, your cries filled with pain and pleasure all at once.  My Matara, I knew you were a gift.  I did not realize how much of one until just now.”

She whimpered in disappointment when his grasping hands eased their exacting demands.  Simdow stroked the aching orbs then traced the line where they met with her ribcage.  He also sketched the reddened outlines of his handprints on her flesh.  Katherine shuddered with delight.

“It makes me wonder about your practice of scourging,” Simdow mused.  “You do seem to enjoy pain for pain’s sake.”

“I thought about that before now.”  Miv’s voice brought Katherine partway out of her haze.  He and Vadef had been so quiet while Simdow played with her that they’d faded to the background.

Simdow considered his clanmate.  “What have you been thinking?”

“Katherine is dedicated to the belief that her god is all-loving and forgiving.  In that light, it makes no sense to me that she should take such drastic steps to expunge her sins as self-flogging.  I think she does it for the pure enjoyment.”

Simdow tilted his head as he looked at Katherine.  “My Matara, is there any truth to Miv’s suspicions?”

Katherine swallowed.  Would they think her mad for her need for pain?  She attempted to fudge the truth.

“Just because God forgives all does not mean I shouldn’t be punished for my sins.”

“You should also be punished for not being forthright with your Dramok,” Simdow said.  The severity in his tone made Katherine wince.  Not because he frightened her, but because she’d disappointed him.

He prodded her.  “Try answering my question again.”

She shrank into herself, but it never occurred to her to not give him the truth this time.  It was the humiliation of admitting what was truly in her head that made her cringe.  “I like the pain.  It takes me out of my head.  I think it’s the endorphin kick.  It’s like when you bite me, but not as powerful.”

“There is nothing wrong with that.”

Katherine checked his expression.  Simdow had made his statement matter-of-factly, and displayed none of the disgust she’d expected to see.  “You really think so?  I’ve never heard of anyone enjoying pain before.”

“Many do.  All three of us do, to differing extents.”

Miv chuckled.  “I don’t know of any Nobek who doesn’t like pain.  We feed on it.  It sharpens our minds, makes everything more focused.  We have a saying in fact, a mantra we repeat when we are in torment:  ‘Pain is my friend.  Pain gives me a challenge to show I have overcome and will continue to do so.  I worship my pain, and I invite it to give me strength.’”

Vadef grinned at him.  “No wonder your opponents in the fighting circle never submitted.  You had to knock or choke them unconscious.”

“Pain is no excuse for surrender.”  Miv returned the grin.

Simdow kept his attention on Katherine.  “You see?  Our reasons for liking pain may not all exactly match, but they are all valid.”

“I thought you’d believe me crazy for wanting hurt.”

Simdow shook his head.  “Not at all.  In fact, it will allow me to test your surrender all the more, and I like that.”

Katherine’s eyes widened, and her sex spasmed in excited reaction to his words.  More than ever, she felt how Miv and Vadef held her helpless for Simdow.

He nodded, as if guessing her thoughts.  His fingertips swirled around her areolas, making the peaks stiffen.  Watching her with those searching eyes, Simdow captured the taut nubs in the pincers of his grip.  He squeezed slowly, letting the pressure build to an ache and then pain.  Katherine gasped as the initial sting turned to a scorching flash that drove straight to her clitoris.  It made her insides seethe.  Her cry rang out, and Simdow eased the grip.

Katherine moaned that he had stopped.  She was beginning to find that strangely quiet place that torment always drove her to.  More than that, the sweet rhapsody of bliss was joined by carnal provocation.

“More, my Matara?” Simdow asked.

“Please.  Please, my Dramok,” Katherine gasped.  “Much more.”

“Simdow, before you continue on, may I make a suggestion?” Vadef asked.

Katherine could have cried at the interruption, but Simdow paused to let the Imdiko have his say.  “Go ahead, Vadef.”

“From the wounds on her back when we first met her, I think perhaps Katherine might actually be somewhat masochistic.  Just because she cries out does not mean she has reached her limit.”

Simdow considered.  “I agree.  Much pain can be delivered without actual damage.”

Vadef smiled at Katherine.  “My Matara, the Kalquorian word for ‘stop’ is
sholt
.  We will stop well short of harm to you, but there may be a limit to the torment you enjoy.  If you reach that limit, you must say
sholt
so there will be no doubt you are ready for us to halt whatever we are doing.”

Miv added, “That way, your enjoyment of the pain we offer will not be interrupted by our worry for you as you respond to rougher handling.”

“
Sholt
,” Katherine said, testing her pronunciation of the word.  “I can do that.”

Her sex gushed in anticipation.  They would give her the physical trials she craved, the odd delights of pain without true danger.  She saw the three men respond to her desire, their eyes growing darker.  Their fangs appeared behind parted lips.  She could have cried with the joy that they not only would indulge her strange needs, but they wanted her to have them.  They wanted to be the ones giving her the drugging sweetness of sumptuous agony.

Simdow pinched her nipples again, sending spears of anguish through her until Katherine screamed and bucked as much as Miv and Vadef’s grips would allow.  Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes as he held the cruel tension, making the tips of her breasts throb and sizzle.  Her feet kicked at the air as her body rebelled against the misery.

However, the sensation of her mind uncoupling from her body and escaping the trials being placed upon it had begun.  Even as Katherine writhed and cried out, a sense of peace stole through her senses.  Beyond that came a new understanding, one that had never presented itself in her self-inflicted exercises.

She felt safe.  Her clan had her in its arms, making her secure even as her Dramok lovingly tormented her.

Euphoria enveloped Katherine.  When Simdow released her swollen nipples and blood rushed into them to bring a fresh wave of pain, her wail seemed far away.  Far from the sound of agony, her cry filled with pleading for more.

The Dramok’s open palm cracked against the side of one breast, sending stinging delight through Katherine.  The other breast received like treatment.  He spanked the rippling mounds until they were red and heat pulsed continuously.

Katherine never spoke the Kalquorian word for stop.  Quiet ecstasy filled her.  The knowledge that they were only getting started made her eager to know what greater pleasures lay ahead.

Her mates were enthralled by her delight in punishment.  Hidden by black pools of their pupils, almost no hint of their purple irises remained as they watched her respond to rough play.  An occasional growl drifted to her ears.  The air filled almost chokingly thick with the cinnamon-like perfume of their arousal. 

Simdow sat back to kneel between her splayed legs.  His tone firm with inarguable demand, he told Katherine, “I will now examine your pussy.  I am going to look it over very carefully, and you will not attempt to hide yourself from me.  You will let me look without complaint.  In fact, you will remain silent and utterly still the entire time.  Do you understand me?”

Katherine was abruptly reminded of how exposed she was, held wide open by Vadef and Miv.  They could all see everything.  A small tendril of resistance tried to lay hold of her, but bliss continued to permeate the greater part of her being.  She thought if she behaved as they wished, they would treat her to more of the exacting entertainments she’d already enjoyed.

“Anything, my Dramok,” she breathed in a soft, joyful voice.

He smiled.  In another state, Katherine might have seen the dark, lustful threat in Simdow’s expression as frightening.  Right now, it only sent her further into the heavy veil of rapture brought about by the men’s control and discipline.

“Be a good girl, my love, and I will punish you in ways you never imagined possible.”

She groaned with expectation at the promise.

Simdow bent to her wide-open sex.  His fingers spread the outer lips as far open as they could, his gaze drinking in the many hues of red and pink.  Miv and Vadef also crowded close, looking at her too, scrutinizing that secret flesh.

The Dramok perused every inch of her.  Katherine’s inner, more delicate petals were parted so the men could see everything.  Simdow’s fingers probed the wet environs, watching to see what made her gush additional honey, what inflamed her sensitive tissues, and what made her flesh blush with increased circulation.  He carefully drew back the hood that protected her clitoris, inspecting the nubbin of flesh that emerged.  He touched it to send sparkles of delight to dance over the maelstrom of need already churning in her gut.