Submissive (29 page)

Gillian expected to see the hot seed spill over the queen's tormenting hand, but before that happened, Marianne released him. She slid the hem of her gown upward, slowly revealing every curve of her shapely legs. She wore no hose tonight, Gillian saw, and the skin was creamy; her thighs ample and flawless. Marianne's hand now dipped between these lovely pillars, and her hips moved ever so gracefully as she stroked herself.

“Your mouth,” she ordered softly, “love me with that divine mouth—and perhaps the whipping I give you later shan't be so ardent!”

The youth's mouth glistened as he nodded, and he got down again and crawled over the cushions between her legs. Onto his belly he dropped, and carefully spread her knees. Gillian heard his wet kisses upon Marianne's secret flesh. The queen stroked his hair wildly while her cheeks suffused with color and her hips swayed up and down to meet his attentive mouth.

Gillian hardly heard her own jealous moan until the king abruptly snatched the length of her hair. She let out a mortified shriek. He pulled her to him, clamping a hand about her mouth. Her whole body went numb as he pulled her close. Yet, even half-paralyzed with fear, her aching desire was only exacerbated in his restraining arms.

“Ogling is ill-mannered, my dear,” he said in such a way she couldn't tell if he was angry or not. His breath singed the side of her throat for a moment or two, then suddenly he let go of her mouth and spun her about on her knees. His arms laced about her waist. Pulling her close, he kissed her. His pungent sweetness took away her breath. How sorely her body craved him now. She felt like a crumbling vessel of sand in his arms.

All the same, she rued this overwhelming lust. She envied the slave with Queen Marianne. The queen was humane as well as sensual. These characteristics were wedded upon her very being, attributes that Gillian respected. Her lust-possessed body felt a twinge of grief to know that once this night was over she might never see Marianne again.

With that thought she felt the king's arms stiffen and his lips grow cool. He released her body and grasped the ends of her hair tightly. She raised her eyes timidly, and knew by the stony regard she met that he had perceived her feelings only too clearly.

A moment later she heard the Mistress speak anxiously, “I should get your betrothed to bed now, brother. She needs to recuperate from the trials faced these last days, and let to slumber for a night or two without stimulation. It will help her become one with the lessons learned in the Disciplinary.”

He studied Gillian a moment longer. But she could see that despite his jealousy he was trying to stay rational. His expression softened a bit, and he touched the ends of her hair now to his cheek.

“Yes,” he replied thoughtfully. “Make sure she rests for two days, and then bring her back to me.”

As the Mistress said good night to the other guests, the king embraced Gillian roughly. He kissed her, and the virile taste of him and the firmness of his lips weakened her. In a delirium of acute, mindless desire she watched as he handed the leash over to the Mistress.

The Mistress gave the leash a little tug that brought Gillian to her feet. As they left the dais Gillian thought of Queen Marianne. As much as she wished to, she didn't look back at the veils or the table. Her heart and body were raw with need, but which demanded the most she dared not wonder.

D
uring the trip back to the harem court, Gillian could feel something was not quite normal with the Mistress. But she said nothing to Gillian at all, not even as she turned her back over to the care of the Master.

The others who had not returned from the banquet, or had remained behind, were already asleep in their narrow beds as the Master took Gillian to the bathroom and helped her to undress. Gillian was so tired. She was surprised to find that she felt little embarrassment for this particular male to see her naked. Very gently he deflated the phallus and removed it, and once she was undressed entirely, washed away the oil that had driven her mad all night.

As Gillian lay in bed, she thought of Marianne again. The thought of the queen leaving the king's domain frightened her. With Marianne's departure, Gillian might be forever lost in this world with its underground halls that led always to new and more forbidding doors.

And as she drifted to sleep she thought of the Mistress briefly, and pondered over what could have had prompted the dark woman to whisk her away from the king. The Mistress had obviously perceived that her brother could read Gillian's troubled emotions. She had saved Gillian by subverting his wrath with her quick thinking. As much as Gillian feared her, she couldn't help but be grateful for the woman's gift for observation.

Later Gillian was awakened by the sense of someone kissing her throat. For a moment her drowsy conscious thought it was Bruce kneeling by the bed, and her heart leaped with joy. She turned over eagerly and her arms opened to his stalwart embrace. But it was a mouth flavored like anise and ambergris that enveloped her own and made her unspent passion burn hotter than ever. Hands, firm in the softest way, pressed her shoulders back down on the mattress.

“Sweetest Disciple,” the Mistress crooned in her ear. “I am your ally, never forget!”

Gillian was too astonished to speak. The Mistress pulled the blankets aside, and shy goose bumps spread across Gillian's flesh. Her eyes began to make out the Mistress's familiar features, and she lay silent as the Mistress stroked her belly, gliding a finger over her hips and again up her belly. Gillian could feel her inflamed juices dampen the mattress. In the darkness the Mistress couldn't see her blush, and it was all Gillian could do to force her hips from making some inadvertent movement.

The Mistress rose to her feet then. As she crawled into the bed, Gillian saw that she was naked. Her hard nipples were black against her shadowed flesh. She kissed Gillian's brow, and lifted Gillian's hand and pressed it to one of the great dusky breasts. She smelled of honey and spice to Gillian, and her lips curved in a soft smile. With a hand she skimmed the surface of Gillian's stomach. Her fingers delved into the thatch between her legs, and just the touch of her hot fingertips over her vulva made Gillian's sex singe.

Gillian could feel the Mistress grow hotter, too, and the air was thick with her Dhjinn musk. When the Mistress kissed her, Gillian's mouth was electrified. The woman's lips were succulent, with a taste like the exotic fruit. And then she released her, and giving Gillian's nose a fond little stroke, turned about on the mattress. She straddled Gillian's middle and Gillian admired the sensuous length of her back and firm buttocks. The Mistress lay down then over Gillian, and with her fingers unburied her sex beneath the nest of curls between her thighs. She parted Gillian's hidden folds and pressed her lips to the hood of Gillian's clit. Her tongue roamed over the unveiled flesh, and this the Mistress kissed, too, sweetly, so lovingly. It had been long since Gillian had felt such tenderness. Warmth spread through her that soothed her soul as much as it excited her body.

Gillian clasped the firm thighs above her shoulders, and kissed the dark flesh. Above her face the Mistress's arched pelvis moved back and forth in faint rhythm. Her long, crimson pussy glistened under its black pelt, and Gillian's mouth watered to taste it. Shyly Gillian tugged the Mistress's thighs, and to her relief the woman's hips nestled down so that she could lick the beautiful nether mouth. She kissed the lips as the Mistress had kissed her own, and relished the taste as her tongue wandered over the heated folds and darted into the tight seam.

And then the Mistress drew Gillian's clit into her mouth; she sucked it until it was aching hard. Gillian's legs strained and her hips went taut, and she felt then the Mistress's tongue encircle the organ, suck it again, nibble it. Gillian moaned deeply and in turn devoured the Mistress in the same way.

“Aahh,” the woman moaned and suddenly stopped what she was doing. She peered back at Gillian, and her face was contorted with pleasure.

“No, you must stop,” the Mistress whispered.

Gillian wanted to continue to lavish affection upon the succulent flesh, but the Mistress's stern look stopped her. She was panting, her heart racing; but she lay obediently as the Mistress returned to her own feasting. The woman's face moved back and forth slowly, as her tongue lapped now at Gillian's clit, now stuffed her hungry orifice. Gillian's legs strained and her hips twisted, and her moans sounded low and pitiful in the night. The Mistress's cherry-red clit peeked out of her jet curls with the rocking of her thighs. Gillian hungered for one last taste of her. Moaning, she turned her face against the Mistress's thigh. Her lips fell open against her, and when at last a climax spirited through Gillian, she screamed hopelessly into the smooth flesh.

She was half-blind with sensation as the Mistress lapped the juices that squirted out of Gillian's pulsating sex. The dark woman turned about and crept up beside Gillian. She kissed Gillian's mouth, her temple, her hair.

Her voice was loving. “Now you may sleep well, precious disobedient one.”

With the last ripple of ecstasy coursing through Gillian's pelvis, the Mistress enfolded her in an embrace and lavished kisses over her face. Gillian returned these timidly, relieved the woman allowed herself this affection. Gillian couldn't understand why the Mistress had held back and denied herself that same satisfaction she'd given. At least she allowed her to play with her breasts a little and stroke the dusky nipples until they were hard under her fingertips. Gillian kissed her again and her tongue probed deep into the Mistress's mouth. Gillian heard her make a sound much like a purr. Gillian's arms glided about her and took delight in the woman's solid warmth against her face. Like a dusky panther, the Mistress seemed to Gillian now…a fierce and beautiful creature demanding of respect, yet feral and unswayable in her devotions.

At last the Mistress got up from the bed, and bending down once more, kissed Gillian's brow.

“Sleep now,” she whispered. “When you wake you shall find your heart's desire. Not me.” She padded away in the night as soundlessly as she'd come.

For a long time Gillian stared into the shadows behind, wondering what she meant. Never again would she begrudge the Mistress's discipline. The Mistress had dared disobey her brother to relieve Gillian's frustrated desires, without demanding solitary devotion back. It was the kind of selfless affection Gillian had thought alien to the Dhjinn-E'nochs.

“Things are not always what they seem,” she said quietly to herself.

Gillian's thoughts turned to the masterful king; not of how his almost sinfully delicious scent and looks had incited her, but of the time when she'd been alone with him in his private chambers. He'd taken her so wildly then, and in several ways. He had succeeded in making her orgasm with a force that could properly be termed volcanic. And yet, she recalled, for all his possessive passion, he had not climaxed—or at least, not allowed himself to. It made no sense, this restraint of the Dhjinns. But there was a reason for it, though she cared not what it was. This, she was as sure of as the contours of her true lover's face.

Suddenly she was overwhelmed by the single desire to be with Bruce. In anger her tears flowed and she visualized the Mistress coming to her again, and listening with sympathy and compassion as Gillian shared her most earnest plea. It was the only thing Gillian ever wanted to ask of one of these creatures, and if she didn't say it now she feared she would never again have the chance.

Her whispered voice shook with emotion. “You may be a free Dhjinn, Mistress, but you are a Dhjinn all the same. Please, if I mean anything to you, grant me this one request—let me be with Bruce!”

She was enveloped in darkness, the kind of darkness that seemed to have a life of its own. Gillian whispered the petition again and again, until it became a mantra on her lips. And after a time she perceived some shift in the pulsating void. There was a gradual softening of the darkness, and Gillian felt a warm breeze against her face. The air smelled different, too; imbued with freshness, and a whiff of the sea and of flowers. She heard the distinct sound of a distant tide, and was aware that the soles of her feet touched earth.

She was nude and divested of every ornament of the Dhjinn king's claim. Above her, a great orange sun broke through heavy ivory clouds. Several gulls passed overhead and they called to one another with fervent cries. The breeze tossed Gillian's loose hair over her eyes, and as she pulled it back she now saw that she stood upon a beach. There were great rocks strewn down the shore, and the light of the new sun glinted hazily upon their uneven surface. Gillian stepped toward the shore, delighting in the feel of the cool sand. With the next tide the water lapped over her feet, immersing them in foam that was as white as the sea was turquoise. She wondered if she was alone, and the sea offered silent assurance that she was also free of the Dhjinn King.

Gillian was overcome with gratitude. The Mistress must have taken mercy on her. Although she did not know where to go or even where she was, as she turned to breathe in the beautiful fields of flowers beyond the shore she had no fear. One way or the other she would find a way to face whatever trials this wild new land had in store.

As this assurance settled over her Gillian noticed a movement in the distance. She lifted a hand over her eyes and peered over the stretching beach. A figure was running toward her, bathed in bronze by the morning sun. And as it drew closer she made out the familiar stalwart physique; the warm, manly smile; the dark and ravishing eyes. Gillian's heart leapt. With a joyous gasp all thought of the Dhjinn washed away like the withdrawing tide. She forgot about the king and even her gratitude toward the Mistress. Memory of their realm and the sensuous trials there disappeared. She could see the eager smile on Bruce's face, and, laughing, she sprinted across the sands.

They rushed into one another's arms, and Gillian's body immediately melted into the contours of Bruce's strong embrace. His mouth was at her ear, his voice a feral purr.

“I have missed you so much.”

Gillian showered his neck and face with kisses. Her heart raced with the exhilaration of being one with the man she loved. They were together, and she was exactly where she wanted to be. All the worries she'd ever known were worlds away. She cupped Bruce's face and contemplated on the love in his shining eyes.

“How I love you. Oh, how I love you.”

Bruce drew her down onto her knees and his scorching lips covered her trembling mouth. She felt his hale heartbeat against her breasts, and with her hands she loosened his trousers. His cock was hard and urgent, and as he laid her down into the warm sand, she held to him fiercely. Parting her legs, he drove into her. He thrust greedily, his large hot cock filling her perfectly. Bruce's hips rocked swiftly, filling Gillian with ravishing sensation. She felt his last, ardent thrust, and heard him cry softly as he climaxed. In its wake Gillian's pleasure reached its zenith.

“Oh, yes!” she gasped, reveling in the intense waves. “Yes!”

Bruce captured her wrists and pressed them to either side of her head. He watched, smiling, as the pleasure coursed through her. His face glowed with pride and tenderness.

“I love you, my little slave,” he whispered. “In this world and the next. No matter what may come.”

Gillian looked at him through heavy lids. This was the man who had aroused her most intimate passions, who had delivered her to the fruition of her wildest fantasies. The love she felt for him was more poignant than even the pleasures they brought one another; stronger than any force that dared attempt to separate them. She lifted her face and kissed his lips, relishing their salty taste. His strength sated her entirely.

Bruce kissed her mouth again. The eternal sea roared and the reassuring golden rays of full morning light drenched their flesh. This is heaven, Gillian thought, and she closed her eyes and clutched loving to this man; her true angel and only Master.