Treva Harte
The Wildling
1
Certain images contained within this e-book have been digitally marked by Digimarc Corp. If you purchased this e-book from a source other than Ellora’s Cave or one of its known affiliates, contact
[email protected] immediately. Please note that reading this e-book without first purchasing it through legitimate means is illegal and can result in heavy fines. As always, our authors thank-you for your support and patronage.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
2
Treva Harte
The Wildling
3
The Wildling Treva Harte MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-84360-265-2 Mobipocket (PRC) ISBN # 1-84360-266-0 Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned): Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), & HTML (c) Copyright Treva Harte, 2002. All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave. Ellora's Cave, Inc. USA Ellora's Cave Ltd, UK This e-book may not be reproduced in whole or in part by email forwarding, copying, fax, or any other mode of communication without author permission. Edited by Jennifer Martin Cover Art by Darrell King
Treva Harte
The Wildling
4
Warning: The following material contains strong sexual content meant for mature readers. The Wildlings has been rated NC-17, erotic, by three individual reviewers. We strongly suggest storing this electronic file in a place where young readers not meant to view this e-book are unlikely to happen upon it. That said, enjoy…
Treva Harte
The Wildling
5
CHAPTER ONE "Come along, my wildlings." Since the words alone wouldn’t be enough for all of them, Arness whistled. Those who hesitated before moved forward at the sound. Even her newest captures had learned the whistle's meaning. "Not a bad lot." Arness turned to Primary, with a smile on her face. "A good thing, too, since this means my year's earnings, more or less. Would you like a nice new collar when we go into town?" Primary touched the rather worn leather collar at his neck. "Whatever you wish, Mistress," he answered. Primary shot a sideways glance at her. "I'm partial to a deeper shade of blue." Before she could answer, he ran forward to yank at the chain of one of the faster wildlings. "Slow there!" He snapped the command in his deepest voice. He spoke harshly, with none of the deference he paid to his mistress. "Keep in line." Arness mentally shook her head. She always had to remember the latent violence that existed in all these creatures—even in her wise Primary. "Gentle! You're yanking the chain too hard—the beast won't be able to breathe!" Arness called. "Remember he doesn't understand all the word commands yet." "He'll learn fast enough," Primary growled, then lowered his eyes. "I know he's capable of following orders. You're too soft with them. They'll take advantage." Arness actually shook her head this time. Primary had been trained to speak quite fluently, but sometimes he forgot not all wildlings had his abilities. Arness thought his conversation was quite a testament to her training as well as his own intelligence. She might be partial, but she was also sure he was much further advanced than most pets. "Don't remind me of who takes advantage of my generosity." Arness kept her tone cold. "I gave you an order." Primary was perhaps a foot or more above her in height but he looked stricken as he bowed his head. "Mistress." Arness wanted to sigh. Not even Primary agreed with her methods of dealing with wildlings. How could she help it? All her wildlings were such beautiful, sleek creatures. They were a delight to look at, a pleasure to train. Perhaps Primary was right that she was over-gentle with them. But when you were camping in the out-country for months on end with nothing but half-wild beasts for company, you forgot they were chattel to be sold for a profit…unless you kept a few for your own entertainment.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
6
Speaking of which— "Sec! Secondary!" Arness called. Primary was hulking. Over the years his brown hair had developed a few strands of gray at the temples. She kept him for his endless strength, vast experience and complete loyalty. Secondary was just the opposite. He bounded to her side, all but wiggling with excitement. Arness laughed, just looking at his hopeful air. He was all youthful eagerness and expectation. She kept Secondary to amuse her. "I suppose you are expecting a treat whenever I call, eh, my little pleasure glutton?" She hooked her little finger into the nipple ring he'd insisted upon during their last town visit and twisted slightly. "Have you been watching your half of my wildlings?" Sec's eyes half-shut with delight at her touch. "Yesss," he breathed out. She swatted him on his rear. "Then keep watching," she advised. "I don't want to see you off seeking your own pleasure instead of doing your duty." Sec grinned at her before ducking his head obediently. "Of course, Mistress." Arness looked at the familiar landmarks. They were almost to Patroness Morgena's ranch. Whenever possible, Arness liked to start the rounds of trading there. The patroness knew her end of a deal, Arness knew her potential buyer's preferences in future pets and, best yet, there was water. "We've reached the creek!" Arness called to her two personal pets. "We'll camp here for the night and do the grooming." Water. That was a rare find in her part of the world. What was even more rare, the patroness had granted her free access. Most water owners were far less amenable. Thank Goddess the patroness was so kind. It was hot. Aridzone was always hot. Arness knelt and trickled the cool liquid through her fingers, enjoying the sensation. Reluctantly, she stood up. There was more hot work to be done. "Shall I pull out the fairer wildlings, Mistress?" Primary asked. He knew the patroness' preferences, too. "Might as well. They'll get an extra-special going over. But do them all. D'you hear me, Secondary?" Arness turned to him, aware who might shirk in this pair. "You never know what guests are at the ranch. We might find someone who wants some of the others." Primary turned and gestured to Secondary to go forward. Arness paused to
Treva Harte
The Wildling
7
watch. She did enjoy watching the two of them go through their paces. Expertly, they unchained and pulled forward the four blondest of the group. Before they could react, the fair ones were thrown into the creek. Yelling, making strange guttural sounds of displeasure, they bobbed up and down. Arness paused. Some of them would know how to swim. Others would not. You could never tell from their outward appearance which would be expert. She eased out her bullwhip and the darts, just in case someone thought now would be the time to make a break. This group, though, posed no problem. They merely stood, looking a little miserable, while they were groomed. Primary reached and ducked each one under water, scrubbing thoroughly with soap and a loofah. Primary knew where to concentrate—the hair and genitals. Breeders like Patroness Morgena were particular about those areas. Some who bought wildlings as pleasure creatures had other interests, but that wasn't what Arness was concerned about for tomorrow. When Primary was done, he passed the first capture up onto the bank where Secondary briskly dried the wildling's body and then began to comb out his hair. "Shall I shave them?" Sec called. "No, we won't waste the effort on these," Arness said. "The patroness doesn't care." They could save the shaving and trimming for those last on the market, when special gimmicks became important. Arness moved forward when Secondary finished fluffing out the top hair of the first one. She rubbed the special oil on her hands and smiled at the look of fearful anticipation on the capture's face. He was still feral, but he'd learned to trust her and to associate her hands with pleasure. The wildling walked forward, a little reluctantly, but still he came. "Excellent, Four. Come to me," Arness crooned to him. "You'll enjoy this rubdown." The oil gleamed in the sun as she held it in her hands; it would gleam just as brightly and enticingly on their bodies. Arness spread his feet apart and began to rub up his legs. It made a nice contrast as her light brown hands splayed against his paler thighs. She didn't have time to admire the sight long before the male let out one of those guttural cries again and tilted his pelvis forward. "Yes, Four," Arness laughed. "It's fortunate all you wildlings have such urges. I doubt any of us could capture and keep you otherwise." She ran a hand once teasingly over his cock. It twitched and he thrust against her hand. Four was already getting hard, an excellent omen for Patroness Morgena and her breeding farm. "Not yet, though. We'll save that for the last." She patted him reassuringly on
Treva Harte
The Wildling
8
his rear and knelt to finish the calves and thighs. Four cried out again but waited, trembling. Arness smoothed her oiled hands over his almost hairless chest, spreading out the streaks to cover his shoulders and arms. She began to slide her hands down again, stroking one nipple. She smiled when she heard the sucked-in breath that signaled he wanted more than a thorough oiling. Arness teased her fingers down while she continued her work on Four. His stomach muscles tensed as she reached his balls. His cock swelled to an almost impossible length. The problem was, should she relieve him or not? Arness paused. A potential pet who displayed eagerness during a sale—and this patroness would undoubtedly test for that—was far more likely to be bought. Perhaps she shouldn't take the edge off his hunger. But a wildling who showed he knew and understood such play and welcomed it was also important. Would continuing his grooming be more beneficial or harmful for tomorrow? "Pliss." Arness paused to stare. "Four! You spoke?" His eyes pleaded, though he stayed as still as a man who was trembling all over could. Arness felt a glow of pride. She'd managed to teach one of her newest captures to speak. Of course he was highly motivated at the moment. Thoughtfully, she ran a finger against the length of his erect penis, testing the few drops that leaked out as she toyed with the reddening head. "Yes. Pliss. Pliss." The man shut his eyes. "Miss Tris." "Another almost ready!" Secondary called. Damn that Secondary. He always got jealous when she did necessary training for the wildlings. He did have a point though. At least three others needed attention. When she stopped moving her hands, Four's eyes opened. She couldn't ignore those desperate blue eyes. Or that desperately hard cock. Damn, she was too generous and indulgent with them. "Mistress, the third one is out of the creek now!" Sec called. "Finish yourself, Four." Not a bad compromise, she thought, seeing the fleeting look of frustration on his face as she gestured what she meant. He didn't try to protest her command, despite the unhappiness. She almost laughed. She knew her wildlings. For a moment she watched as he began to work his shaft steadily with his own fist. She could see he was already too close to climax to do anything but hurry. Excellent. He would be eager tomorrow when he was tested by others, but
Treva Harte
The Wildling
9
not too eager. His skin gleamed and glinted as he worked his fingers over his cock. Lovely. He was as perfectly groomed as any handler could make him. Arness glanced over the nearly ready cock and nodded. Yes, that should fetch a nice price once it was displayed. She turned to Six, a slighter and younger male. His head was already bowed, though the chains had been taken off for the grooming. Arness shook her head. Each one was different and each required different treatment. Some wildling handlers never learned that, or missed the nuances needed with a particular capture. Six was a bit shyer than the others. He blushed as Four groaned and spurted, an act which caused the others to laugh and nudge each other. Arness absently patted Four's haunches in approval as he recovered himself, licking her lips a bit as she saw his seed spill out over his cock and hand. Four was a tasty sight. If she wasn't so busy she might… Well, she hoped the patroness saw what a fine potential breeder Four was. Meanwhile she had more work to do "Six." She made her voice even more gentle and seductive. She held out her hands, palms stretched open. "Here, Six. Come." He was shy but he was as male as the others. His cock twitched for a moment as he obeyed her. Thank Goddess. Sometimes you discovered you'd captured one that couldn't be bred or even used for pleasure because they had no interest in females. There were markets for that, too, but Arness rarely trafficked in them. Watching males cavort with other males might be some patroness' particular bent, but there weren't enough to make it worth Arness' time. "Six, take the oil and put it on your body." She gestured, making sure he understood. The young wildling placed the oil on his chest and thighs and waited. He didn't look eager, though his cock was now slightly stiff. Curse it. He was still more fearful than excited. She'd neglected him in favor of some who were more forceful in their bids for attention. Hopefully she had time to rectify that problem before tomorrow. After all, he was a pretty thing—a bit delicate perhaps, but plenty enjoyed such beauty. "Sec, work more carefully on the other two," Arness called. "This one will take a bit longer." Arness put her hands over Six's. She saw the flush come over his neck and cheeks again. Gently she began to guide his hands over his skin. Sometimes her wildlings had been captured before only to have been released or escape later. She could tell by their behavior if they were used to women. Some had been treated badly, others perhaps a little too well.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
10
But Six had not. She would lay a wager that he was a virgin. She couldn't swear to a few of the others in this particular group, but Six was untried. Untried and afraid. Perhaps even shamed. She could feel it in his responses to her. How Six tried to cover his erection with one hand instead of obeying her. His shame was deeper than his obedience. Arness hissed a little with displeasure. Six stopped his rubbing motion completely, staring at her. "Come." She pulled him behind some shrubbery. For now he couldn't be displayed in public. That could make things difficult but she'd see what she could do to accustom him to his role. Six trembled, as Four had, but for a different reason. She tilted his chin up to face her. She was a tall woman and usually preferred pets who were taller. Six was her height, almost exactly. Well, that had its compensations. She stared into his eyes, long and deliberately. Then, just as deliberately, she stroked his oiled body as she put her lips on his. She absorbed his startled cry into her own mouth as she flicked his lips open and inserted her tongue. He jerked but she placed her hands behind the small of his back and pressed him closer to her. She could feel him begin to swell more forcefully now. Excellent. She had to make enough time to show him how erogenous it was when a woman stroked and petted him. She pulled her head back. "Six, tilt your head so." Puzzled, he tilted his head to the side. She bit at a tender part of his neck. He flinched but she could tell he was interested. She licked the bite gently and he made the first pleased sound she'd heard from him. Yes. A little domination, a little pleasure…that was what this one needed. Unbidden, he tilted his head to the other side. Arness almost laughed. Instead she pinched one male nipple and he yelped. But his nipple grew hard and firm. Better yet. He couldn't be allowed to expect a certain caress. He must learn to respond to a range of possibilities. "Six. Take your cloth off." His eyes grew wider as he understood. Captures were dressed usually in nothing but a cloth over their genitals—perhaps some leggings if the weather was bad or the underbrush too heavy. Six had kept his covering on despite his bath and grooming. His fingers trembled, but they obediently stripped his body of that one remaining protection. Arness took the oil flask and slowly dripped it over his pubic bush and cock. With each drop, his cock grew more eager. She watched his erection swell and then begin to bob as the oil hit. Six licked sweat from his top
Treva Harte
The Wildling
11
lip. Now he was more eager than shamed. Arness dropped to her knees. There were different requirements for each potential pet, after all. Holding his rear firmly, she placed her mouth directly on the head of his penis. He let out one sharp, surprised cry and then seemed to forget how to breathe. She lingered a little at first, allowing him to absorb the sensations that she could almost feel humming inside his body. Her first long smooth glide, taking his cock down her throat, had him clutching his hands into her hair for support. Then she paused to lick the throbbing vein in his cock. Outside the shrubbery came the loud sounds of the other captures splashing in the water, yelping as they were readied for market. Inside, silence reigned except for the sounds Arness' tongue and lips made as she licked and sucked. Shame and inexperience couldn't hold out for long against experience and desire. Six reached back to cling hard to a rock at his back as Arness sucked him hard and deep. He broke within minutes, coming hard in her mouth, crying harshly as he did. He slid to the ground. She stood and bent over him as she finished oiling the top of his body with an almost-caress, comforting him as he stopped shaking. When his body finally lay still beneath her, she patted his head. "Didn't you enjoy that?" she asked. She wished she had more time to be tender with him. He looked shattered. "There will be more from your permanent mistress. You're a handsome fellow and she'll see you are pleasured often. I'm sure of it." Slowly he got to his knees, still with a bowed head. Suddenly, unexpectedly, Six bent his head still lower and kissed her boots. Arness bit her lip at the unexpected gesture. He'd make someone a lovely pet. A different pet than Four but equally fine. "Mistress, can you not help now?" This time Primary called. When he cried for help, it was needed. Arness pulled Six out of the shrubbery, looked at him and stifled a sigh. Oil and desert sand didn't mix well. Six's knees and ass were dirty. "Primary, clean him up again." Exhausted, touched by Six's untutored tribute, Arness made short work of oiling Three and Five. They needed little urging, though, since they'd seen what had gone on with Four and, despite the lack of display, there was no missing the rare smile on Six's face—or his sandy legs. "Tether them all. Make sure their hands can't get free." Secondary and Primary looked at each other. All of them knew why the wildlings weren't to be
Treva Harte
The Wildling
12
allowed any possibility of self-pleasure. Each one's manhood would be evaluated tomorrow.
***** "You're tired." Primary brought her a bowl of the endless camp stew. Arness tilted some down her throat, forcing herself to chew and swallow. Ah well, tomorrow there would be delicacies to savor. Patroness Morgena had an excellent cook. "Yes." Arness refused to allow herself to slump, even before her most treasured creatures. One didn't show weakness before them. Primary went behind her, kneading her shoulders with clever fingers. He knew her weaknesses after their years together even without her displaying any. "How long has it been, Primary?" Arness asked. "Since you became my pet?" "Ten years, Mistress." She didn't doubt his calculations. "You were still a new trader then." She had been twenty, finally allowed on her own. Those first years had been arduous, risky and poverty-stricken. "And you were young enough to be my secondary pet. That is, if I could have afforded two." "I was grateful you thought me experienced enough to be your primary personal pet despite my age. I was even more honored to be your only pet." Primary bent over the calves of her legs, massaging intensely. How had he felt when she took on Secondary? Arness frowned at the thought. Most traders had a whole string of personal pets, culled from the best of their own stock. She'd never wanted to take on the permanent care of more than a few…it was expensive and emotionally costly. Not many others felt that way, though. Having just one for years had made her a curiosity among the women she met. But Primary—he'd been her sole source of amusement and comfort for a long time. Perhaps it was ridiculous to think a pet might have such delicate feelings, but she wondered if he might have felt some jealousy when she took on another one. Arness shrugged away the thought. He seemed to cope with what feelings he had without difficulty. Pets were used to being one of a group. Most probably liked the companionship. "I'm tired but excited, Primary," she admitted. Primary smiled, just briefly. "I know, Mistress. It has been ten years. The grooming always excites you. I remember times when you almost wore me out."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
13
Arness smiled, too. She remembered a few of those nights. "You never did wear out though." "Not then. I have help now, though. Thank Goddess. You're quite a woman when you get going." He slanted another glance at her and stopped his massage. "Secondary!" Sec squatted down between the two of them. "The mistress will require both of us tonight." Arness smiled and decided not to reprimand Primary for giving such a command. He was right, of course. "Strip for me." She began to take off her leather vest as she watched. Both Primary and Secondary knew how to make a show of their disrobing. A lovely show. As her personal pets, they wore laced leggings and vests to cover themselves. Their clothing showed enough of their bodies to display her good taste, but not enough to make a free show for other women. She watched their fingers slowly unlace and uncover prime male flesh. Finished with her own stripping, Arness stood, thoughtfully comparing her two. They posed before her, fully exposed, letting her look. They were a lovely sight, together or separately. Primary, huge, shaggy, powerful, could make her wet when she put her mind to his body rather than his ability to work or converse. During sex he could go on forever, always seeing to her pleasure before his own. Goddess, how she enjoyed that. Secondary, thinner, his face more sculptured, his emotions never completely under control, was insatiable. Seconds after he climaxed, he was ready for more. She enjoyed that, too. "Primary, come to me." She spoke the command she had given so often today to the captures. "Secondary, in a moment." Primary needed no more instruction to stand in front of her. His callused hands began to stroke her breasts and she shut her eyes at the roughness against one of the softest spots on her body. Unbidden, Secondary soon crowded behind, cock already stretched hard. He shamelessly rubbed himself against her rear as he reached around to move his fingers against the curls of her pubic hair. Arness briefly wondered if the captures could see them, outlined against the dying fire, right before she lost all worries, all concerns other than the four hands and two tongues that were working their way across her body with the sole object of giving her pleasure. Ahh, this was why one took on the trouble and expense and care of pets. For moments like these. Primary dropped on his knees before her, using his skillful tongue against her clitoris. Secondary was already moaning at the back of her neck, but taking his turn at caressing her nipples with one hand and gently
Treva Harte
The Wildling
14
massaging the puckered entrance to her ass with the other. She allowed herself to slip into sensation, into pure enjoyment of the waves of heat surging through her body, the weakness growing in her legs. Arness took pleasure in the sounds Secondary was making, the wordless pleas he groaned against her skin. She delighted in the sweat beads forming on Primary's forehead. He never pleaded, never gave in until she told them— "Now. Now!" Primary leaped to his feet. Then he groaned, as he slid firmly home inside her. Secondary, with more care, pushed himself into the entrance he had been making ready. They all paused for a moment, savoring the sensation. Full. Delightfully stretched and as full as any woman could be. Nothing could be better than two hard cocks pushing together. Arness wondered, briefly, what the others felt when they were inside her, but then had no time to wonder about anything but the almost blinding pleasure that began to jolt through her as Primary and Secondary, working with precision, began to slide themselves in and out. Primary's fingers, already slick from his previous explorations, moved gently against her clitoris. Secondary's fingers pinched her nipples, much harder than his respectful caresses before. Arness lost her footing then, held up by the two males squeezed against her. Fire no longer came in waves but completely engulfed her. "Ahh!" Arness groaned and gave herself up to her first climax, dark-red and burning hot. The two men barely paused before they began to send her on to her second trip to ecstasy. She heard their pants mingle with her own, felt their hearts thudding along with her heart as they moved as close as they could to her. Where did one end and the other start? Arness had no idea. She reached out her legs and clamped them around Primary's. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders. Secondary was already draped around her from behind. She came a second time, short and sharp, before Secondary broke. "Sorry! Too goooood," he moaned as she felt the first splash of his cum inside. "Worthless young—" Primary grunted, still hard, still urgent, still pushing hard and strong inside her. "No. You, too." She gave in, gave permission as her third climax began to overwhelm her. She felt herself clench, felt her whole body spasm. Her moan was echoed by the male before her. The gush of Primary's seed inside her left her completely drenched. They all fell to the ground as they disentangled, landing together, with Secondary cradling her fall and Primary's large arm heavy between her breasts. Secondary's snore soon rumbled in her ear.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
15
She shut her eyes and dimly was aware of Primary tucking a light blanket about her. Sweet pet. He knew the desert night grew too cold for her, even when their three bodies cradled together. Primary's collar briefly bit into her arm before he resettled himself against her. She settled her leg over his thigh as she usually did "Thank…" she managed before falling into a sound sleep.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
16
CHAPTER TWO "Get him!" One voice yelled. "Damn it, hit him low and hard." The next instant Adan felt a burning pain in his groin. He crashed hard to the ground. Stunned, he lay quiet, gasping for air. "Got him." Another voice filled with satisfaction. "It's not another of his tricks, is it?" a third asked, suspiciously. Adan got a sudden harsh boot to the ribs. He grunted, gasping again. "Naw. It's real. Tie him, then." "Bastard was tougher than you'd think from looking at him." A fourth one's voice was a bit muffled. He'd had a few teeth removed at the start of their bout. Of course that one tied him. Cords sliced into his wrists. They began to haul him back. His head slammed against a fallen branch as they hustled him along. "Bastards! How can you do this to your own?" Adan yelled as they threw him into the small room where he'd been not three hours before. "Patroness will be pleased to get him back," was the only reply as they walked back down the hall. "Wager you he'll get some special training after this," Adan heard another say. "Mistress Arness is due here soon. Wonder if she'll take him on?" Adan's breath caught. He told himself it was the lingering pain in his ribs. Arness. The men at the ranch were always babbling about her, but he'd heard of the trader even before his arrival. Who in the out-country hadn't? Escaped captures whispered her name first when they spoke of powerful pet traders. Arness. Head throbbing, stomach still churning, Adan rolled himself to one side, his hands still bound behind him. Blast it, there was no need to worry. He'd escaped before. Just give him a little while to recover and he'd do a better job of running next time.
***** Arness slapped her wide-brimmed hat against her side, clearing the trail dust from it before she stepped over the patroness' threshold. The fans whirled almost silently inside, their motion and the thick mud walls of the house giving a measure of relief from the sun outside. Her boots sounded noisy against the polished wood floors. Arness took a deep breath, trying to accustom herself again to the delights and nuances of civilized behavior. "Mistress!" The majordomo of the household, Dorinda, stepped into the hall.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
17
"We were delighted to hear of your arrival." She'd sent Secondary on ahead so that the household would be ready for them. "I'm delighted to be here." Arness tried the formal response on, slowly remembering the correct phrases. Of course it helped that she truly was delighted. "It's a pleasure to see the household again." "Mistress Arness!" The patroness herself appeared. "Welcome." It was always a shock to remember Morgena was short. She carried herself with such authority that one forgot until confronted with the reality again. Arness inclined her head respectfully. "I'm honored." "The honor is mine, I assure you." The two of them stopped, staring at each other, unsure what to say next. "Enough formality." Morgena let out a loud laugh. "I truly am glad you're here. Have you any pretty toys for me?" "They may look like pretty toys, Patroness, but they're more than that." Arness paused. "You'll see that for yourself, of course." "Ah, as always, you'll have me overstep my budget." The patroness shook her head sadly. "I can't resist your wildlings." "You drive a sharp enough bargain for a woman unable to resist." Arness allowed herself one quick grin. It was too early to begin the barter, but it was something Arness enjoyed as much as Morgena did. "My wildlings are prime and they're already well on their way to becoming pets." Why did she have the feeling Morgena wanted to say something more? Morgena never waited to say whatever was on her mind. "Patroness! Patroness!" A burly blond man ran into the hallway. "We got him! He's trussed up and safely back." "You're interrupting my conversation," Morgena said, mildly enough, but the giant looked horrified. "Forgive me, Patroness. You said to let you know as soon as possible." He bowed low, the glint of metal on his carefully wrought collar gleaming as he moved. Morgena sighed and turned back to Arness. "I'd hoped to ease into this discussion. So much for finesse. I never had the flair for it anyhow." She looked at Arness. "I would like to hire you for a particular task. I think you have the talent to succeed where those on my ranch have failed. Shall we discuss it while we dine?" Arness inclined her head again. "Delighted, Patroness." Sometimes the forms of politeness were useful, particularly when one wasn't sure what to say.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
18
***** "Shut the door after me," Arness said. "Are you sure?" One of the three men who came with her asked. "He's clever. Sly." "I'm sure." Despite her words, she didn't like the sound of the heavy door clanging shut behind her. Arness squatted down and let her eyes adjust to the half-light in the room. It was cooler in here than outside but still uncomfortably warm. There were no fans in this part of the ranch. The huddled figure before her was imposing but oddly still. Arness squinted. "Goddess! You're still tied!" She jumped to her feet. Pets were too valuable to mishandle. From what Morgena said, this one had cost more than any of the others by a considerable sum. "I probably got a bit carried away. But this is a gift for my daughter who is coming home for the first time in years. Thought he'd be a fine start for her own breeding farm if she chose to use him so. Or one hell of a pleasure pet." Arness hissed her displeasure as she saw the pet's hands and legs were tethered far too tightly together. She didn't know how long they'd been so, but the wrists were already swollen. She began to use her machete against the cords. As the first ties loosened, the man's arms dropped heavily. She knew the pain must be intense as blood began to recirculate. He grimaced, let out one pained grunt, and turned his head away from her. She wished she could see him more clearly. His hair was longer than what was allowed for most domestic pets. Arness could see why he hadn't been groomed. It was beautiful hair, silvery white and flowing down to his shoulders. It covered his face as he bent over. He looked young, hard-muscled, long-limbed. Wide-shouldered, narrowhipped. She mentally ran down her trader's checklist of desirable pet attributes, saving the best for last. Ah, yes. She looked carefully. Well-endowed. Amazingly so, in her professional opinion. Well, Morgena was no fool. When she paid top dollar for a pet, everything had to be perfect. Everything, apparently, but the pet's attitude. "I got him from a trader I never used before. He cost me plenty but less than you might think for a prime piece like that. Now I know why. The damned idiot has tried to escape three times since I bought him a month ago. I'm at my wit's end with him. I don't believe in breaking a pet's spirit. If I did, he'd be no good for my purposes. My Salla is as high-spirited as he is. She'd have no use for a docile male since she has odd notions of her
Treva Harte
The Wildling
19
own from that fancy education I bought her in the city. What she needs is a pet who will test her mettle, keep her interested. This one could if the fool would just settle down enough to be ready for training." She saw he wore no collar. A month here and he still refused to wear one? The creature remained more wildling than pet. Arness shook her head. How was she going to settle him down? "Water!" Arness called out the door. "Bring water!" He had to be thirsty. His legs had stayed curled in almost a fetal position this whole time, so when she turned back, she began to massage them. The pet jerked away and grunted in pain again. "Don't be foolish," she said and went back to a deep stroke against the ankles and up the calves. He had good, firm leg muscles. Arness would have liked to admire them, perhaps let her hands linger a bit, but she knew he must be hurting. Apparently he thought better of his bravado because he quieted. Arness frowned at the bruises on his arms and ribs. Unruly pets were often paid back by the others—at least if the others were hurt by the pet's escapades. She remembered the blood and bruises on the group who had announced his recapture. From the signs, this one probably had fought ferociously. Arness stifled a sigh. Morgena hadn't promised her a hefty fee for an easy job. "I'm here to look you over," Arness announced. "You're lucky I bothered to check you out today before I started marketing the other captures. It might have been a while before anyone deigned to free you." The pet didn't look up. Probably he didn't understand the language, but he might well be stubborn enough to refuse to acknowledge her. Arness went to the door and picked up the bucket of water that had been left there. Deliberately she took some in her cupped hands and put it to his lips, forcing him to touch her hands as he drank. He was too thirsty not to, but he kept his eyes shut as he did. Arness almost smiled. He refused to look at her? This capture was amazingly stubborn. Why was she so amused by his resistance? "Adan." She thought he twitched a little. He knew that word at any rate. "I hear you've been named Adan. We're going to get to know each other very well. I intend to learn a great deal about you." She let her hands linger at his mouth a little longer than necessary. "Don't touch me." "What?" Arness was stunned. This pet had snapped out an order. He looked at her then. Burning blue eyes glared into her dark ones. Intelligence and anger gleamed there. This Adan was handsome. Sensual lips,
Treva Harte
The Wildling
20
lean face, high cheekbones. The sweat and blood on his face didn't detract from the impact. He had a fighter's face, not a pet's. "Don't touch." Arness' mouth went dry. She wanted to touch that face, to stroke the rest of that sculptured body. Goddess! She hadn't been so affected by a male's looks since she was a teen. She pulled her hands away, afraid they might give away her unwanted emotion. "Why not?" she managed. She looked down his body and was reassured. "You like my touch. We can both see that." Adan shifted his body away from hers again, but she'd seen what he wanted to hide. His cock didn't want her to stop touching any more than she’d wanted to stop. "I know a great deal about you already, Mistress." She finally registered two important points through the sudden flare of lust his stare had sparked. First, he didn't use her title with the respectful tone it deserved. Second, he spoke as fluently as her Primary but far more fiercely. "Over half the men on this ranch are captures because of you, but they still speak your name with awe and longing. They wait for the times you visit this prison. You sold them but they don't care. You've enthralled them with your body, with your voice, with your attention. Obviously you're a dangerous woman."
***** "You're a brave woman, Salla." Georgette draped herself over the bedpost as Salla finished shoving the last dainty sash into her trunk. "Why do you say that?" "You're going back to a ranch. A rustic, primitive ranch." Georgie shuddered. "I've never heard of anyone voluntarily going to one." Salla laughed. Georgie was a city girl. "Other people go back to their homes after they graduate from school." Salla stared at herself in the mirror. She was still dressed in her white organdy underwear. Graduation tradition dictated a corset, just like women had worn hundreds of years ago on Earth. It cinched in her waist, made it even smaller than usual. At least the rest helped to plump up her breasts. Salla would never admit it, but she'd always secretly wanted ample sized breasts. "You haven't been back in five years." "I wasn't asked to come back." Salla tried not to let the hurt from that show. She wouldn't have returned even if invited. She'd been busy absorbing her studies, inhaling the sounds and excitement of the city. "Not that taking a double major allows you much time for a vacation. My mother knew that."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
21
"She's formidable." Georgette giggled. "She has wonderful taste in pets, too." Her mother had arrived faithfully every Visiting Day, accompanied by a brace of strikingly handsome blond males who catered to her whims—and those of the other women in the Academy. For days after Morgena's visits, Salla had been forced to endure the giggles of the other students, the silent displeasure of some of her favorite professors. Was it her fault that her mother kept a breeding farm? That many of the mothers who came to visit left with the men Morgena brought with her? Morgena had no problem selling her stock while also seeing her daughter. Salla was sure Morgena saw it as a combination business and pleasure trip. If Salla herself disappointed her, there was always the profitable compensation of selling off some men. "Men. Not pets. Will you forget everything we studied now that you have your diploma?" Salla let some of the confusion, the hurt, the anger out as she snapped the question. She glared at her friend. "You always studied that radical stuff much more closely than I did." Georgette shrugged. "Now me, I'm sort of looking forward to earning my first permanent pet once I start work. That is, if Mama doesn't give me one for graduation." "Georgie! You'd forget all those years of training Mistresses Stephanie and Tina and Katherine instilled in us?" Salla gasped, genuinely surprised. "Oh, Salla!" Georgette looked equally surprised. "That's all theoretical. I plan to live in the real world. Men are pets. Maybe in some historic past, on some other planet, they were different. But this is now and we've all moved on to Prosperity. This is our home and our life." "But—" Georgette began to laugh as she moved forward, pulling the white graduation gown over Salla's head. "Don't tell me you plan to go home to your breeding farm and still hold on to your notions!" Georgette saw her friend's face and swallowed the last of her giggles. "My word, you do!" "Of course." "You're still a virgin, aren't you." Georgette paused in her task of doing up the hundreds of tiny buttons that ran up the back of Salla's gown. "So are you." Salla put her chin up and glared again, even while a sudden faint heat on her cheekbones betrayed her. There was no shame in virginity or believing in principles. One didn't force men to service you. That had been taught to her since she first entered school and began her studies in ethics and philosophy. Georgette pinned the corsage, a gift from Morgena, at Salla's neckline. She studied the effect for a long moment, unmoved by her friend's scowls.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
22
"Not for long." Georgette stepped back, her last task for Salla done. "During our graduation weekend everyone shows they're adults. I intend to show my adulthood as quickly as I can." "You mean groups of drunken, silly females run out and sexually attack men who aren't allowed to resist. Men who are shipped in by well-meaning but illinformed mothers for just that purpose. You know how our teachers warned us not to succumb to that! Men aren't just sexual objects." "They won't be our teachers anymore. I, for one, will enjoy myself in the traditional way. Some pet is going to be working on unbuttoning my graduation gown tonight." Georgette chuckled again. "The flowers were a nice touch, Salla. I wonder how you can resist any present your mother sends you. She has beautiful, beautiful pets. If you don't use all her presents, may I?" Salla looked through her school closet. Nothing was left there. Her packing was done. Her graduation gown was in place. "There won't be any pets for me. I informed my mother I don't want any such present. And I intend to go home right after I get my diploma to avoid that part of the celebration." Salla placed the lock on her trunk and shut it, firmly. "It isn't right." "Don't you want to use a pet?" Georgette asked, horrified. "Don't you like men?" "I—" Salla thought about some of the pets, males, she'd seen, many of which her mother owned. Bare shoulders, bare butts, eager eyes. Strong. Attentive. They'd do anything the girls asked of them when they came to visit the Academy. Anything. Pets adored being caressed. She'd witnessed how much they enjoyed female touch. Pets weren't inhibited and soon many of the presumably virginal students weren't either. Goddess, the things you saw and heard when pets entered the Academy! Hands lingering a bit too long on intimate areas. Moans. Sighs. Rustlings in a corner. Perhaps it was fortunate that her mother's visits had always been short. More heat washed over Salla’s face. "Salla?" She cleared her throat. "Of course. They're very attractive." Attractive, yes. Until you saw the collared necks and submissive bows. None would meet a woman's eyes. No. She couldn't enjoy a slave. She simply couldn't. That's all they were when you came down to it. Sexual slaves. "So you're going to stick to our teacher's principles while on the breeding farm!" Georgette looked a little stunned. "You are brave, Salla. I could never resist all that temptation. It's unnatural." "Come and visit, Georgie." Salla knew her friend never would even as they hugged and clung to each other with a sudden wash of tears. City people rarely ventured out as far as ranches on Aridzone unless they were in desperate need or
Treva Harte
The Wildling
23
trouble. Out-country was too far away. "You'll be surprised at what I do once I get home." "Ladies?" The cool tones of a professor broke through the emotion. She surveyed the two embracing. "Enough of that sentimental foolishness. It's time to enter the Academy Hall. Your graduation ceremony is starting."
***** "Come…Six, is it?" Morgena beckoned imperiously. Six hesitated, looked over at Arness. "He's shy." Arness felt compelled to speak up after meeting that gaze. "A private chamber would be best for his inspection, Patroness." "Shy?" Morgena raised one eyebrow. "Haven't seen a truly shy one in years. Dorinda—and you, Primary! Take the other three off. They'll go to the doctor tomorrow to check for soundness and disease. I'll take that lot if they check out. But I'm not so sure about this one." The crowd cleared the hall, leaving just the three of them. Under Morgena's assessing stare, Six uneasily shifted his feet. "He's loyal. Pretty. He's just a bit young." Arness knew Morgena would care for Six better than any of her other buyers. That is, if she could just convince the woman. Morgena had a soft spot, softer than Arness' in some ways, for males, especially young ones. "Certainly he's fair enough." "Indeed. I know you like them that way." "I like 'em well enough. But I chose fair pets so people would remember me and my ranch. It makes for a nice gimmick. Sometimes I think it would be easier to get a few others that look different." Morgena moved forward. She held out her hand. Her voice gentled. "Come, boy." Six stepped forward, hesitantly. "Good fellow. Now I'm going to inspect you. Understood?" She placed her hands on his shoulders. Arness prayed Six would understand. His future rested on his present behavior. Six lowered his eyes, then spread his legs and arms apart, as the others before him had done. Arness felt the tension between her shoulder blades ease. He did understand. He didn't flinch when Morgena ran her hands over his chest, slid her hands up his thighs. He only let out a small sigh when the patroness cupped his balls. Arness kept her face grave but she saw Morgena's absorbed face and wanted to smile. Morgena, too, wanted Six to pass inspection.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
24
Morgena kept her touch light and slow. Arness inwardly cheered. The breeder knew what she was about. Of course she did. She'd been at her work almost twice as long as Arness had been at hers. Breeders knew what was required to breed. Six shifted again, but no longer with uneasiness. He sighed again, his eyes half-shutting. His cock twitched under Morgena's hands then began to swell. It kept swelling. "Good boy," Arness mouthed softly. She'd felt his cock in her mouth. His size shouldn't have been such a pleasant shock. Arness barely realized she was creeping closer to watch. Six's hips thrust forward suddenly, sharply. He knew some of what he was missing now and his body wanted it again. Morgena laughed. "I should have known you wouldn't trick me, Mistress." She stepped back. "This one is tempting enough to finish off before the doctor certifies him. But I'm old enough to wait. How much do you want for him?" Deprived of touch, Six forgot his obedient stance and looked up pleadingly. He cupped his own balls this time, ran a finger down his engorged cock, trying to tempt the woman to finish. Morgena laughed again. "He's eager, too, once he gets warmed up." Absently, she resumed caressing him. "How much?" "Fifteen thousand." "Fifteen! Ha! He's pretty but he's not Adan. Five." The capture moaned, almost pitifully, as he came close to climax, bucking hard under her fingers. "Ten. Look how strong he is." Six came, hard, spurting long and plentifully. "Oh, perdition. Nine thousand units. You're a damned good trader, Arness." Morgena wiped her hands with the towel she had at her belt. "Go. Follow the others, boy. I'll have to give you a real name soon." Arness inclined her head, hiding her triumphant smile as Six obeyed his new owner. "You have an uncommonly good eye for wildlings, Patroness." "You're dangerous, Mistress. I always end up poorer after seeing you." Dangerous? Adan's ridiculous words rang in her head for a moment. She glanced over at Six, who had a beatific smile on his face and his hands on Morgena's shoulders, steadying himself. He was more than ready for a collar to be slipped on him. Nonsense. She was born for this work. "I'll be back to see to your Adan once I market my last two captures. From what you tell me, Patroness Lavinia has a need for a few workers. One and Two
Treva Harte
The Wildling
25
should be quite suitable for her needs." Arness spoke briskly, the niggling bad feeling gone as she planned ahead. "A week. I can give you a week. I don't know how quickly m'daughter will be able to get back home, but I want her present as close to ready as you can make him when she arrives." Morgena tapped her finger on her belt buckle. "But—" Arness weighed the training fee she would get versus the possibility of not selling her last two captures. "Yes, of course. You may need to keep an eye on your other stock. Adan has created some bad feeling amongst them with his escape attempts." "Have they hurt him?" "Not badly. But they have no desire to pamper him, either." "I'll have someone take charge of his care. Goddess! That renegade's a fulltime job." "Let my Primary take him on. You can trust him." "You'd give up your pet?" "Only until I get back. He's a very steadying influence, too. He almost has Secondary in line." Morgena laughed. "Then I'd hate to have seen him before! That secondary pet of yours is a scamp." Morgena hesitated. "You'd do well to keep an eye on him." "What? Has he been making trouble?" Arness knew Secondary could run wild when there were females about. He'd never break the monogamy leash but he could come very close to trying if another woman encouraged him. "No. No more than being born to trouble." Morgena shut her mouth tightly. "I'll take him with me to herd the captures. That should keep him out of mischief." "As long as you're back soon to start training." Arness thought of a certain untrained male's angry looks and hard muscles, his refusal to properly submit…and his intent awareness of her. He had kept his body turned from her but she knew when a cock was aroused. She'd seen enough of them. "Oh, I'm looking forward to it."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
26
CHAPTER THREE Arness had already strapped on her knife and was filling her canteen in final preparation for her trip when Dorinda tapped her shoulder. "The patroness was pleased," Dorinda told her. "Your captures were brought back early to the ranch. All the wildlings were certified by the doctor." "I try to see that they're healthy before I start herding them, but it's good to know for sure." Arness looked at Dorinda. "That's why the patroness isn't here this morning?" "She's begun working with one of the new pets already." The two exchanged grins. "She does especially enjoy your picks, Mistress Arness." "Excellent. By the way, where in perdition is Secondary?" He often grew lax when they were guesting at a patroness' home, but he'd never been this late in attending her. "Shall I send your other pet to fetch him?" Dorinda offered. "Yes, please. While I wait I'll have one last look at the patroness' Adan. I don't want him to forget who I am while I'm gone." Arness flexed her feet in her travel boots, testing for comfort. "Eh, that one's worth more than one last look!" Dorinda laughed. "Worth a slap and tickle if you can get close enough. He's skittish, though." "Skittish? He's cursed contrary. Hostile. Patroness Morgena has given me a large task with him." "But you'll train him." "No doubt." Arness strode from the hall, her boots loud as they struck against the floor, once again forgetting her civilized manners. Mentally she was already thinking of her life in the bush for the next few days. Pampered luxury was all very well, but something about the out-country called to her. She got itchy if she was gone from it too long.
***** "I'll be away for a few days. A week at most. When I get back, we'll start your training. The gentling comes first." Arness used a low, soothing tone. She reached out to stroke his hair. A wildling needed to get used to touch. He needed to understand his orders were not going to be heeded. The female's wishes were all-important. "We'll start with this. You can think about how good it feels to you." Adan might not want to respond, but every time she touched his hair, his breath caught. She thought that might be progress. Arness cautioned herself not to be too hasty, not to read signs of submission
Treva Harte
The Wildling
27
in his quickened breathing. Her own increasing desire might be making her too hasty. Goddess. Was her work making her perverse? Adan's refusals were unnatural. Why was his resistance making her more interested every moment? Still, Adan kept his head turned away from her. The swelling in his wrists and ankles had gone down, but the fading bruises still looked a bit ugly. "My Primary will be seeing to you while I'm gone. He'll see you aren't harmed." "Yours?" The word was bitter. "You own him?" "Of course. He's a good fellow. We take care of each other. " "As if he had a choice." Arness kept herself from sighing impatiently. These ideas were going to interfere mightily with his breaking in and she had no time now to argue or coax or demonstrate how much a male needed to be owned. At least she'd roused his temper enough to make him talk to her, if not look at her. His sullen refusal to speak had almost been intimidating. "It's more complicated than you make it sound, Adan, but of course he had no choice. He's male. So are you. Men are born to submit and obey. Given a good enough mistress they love to submit and obey. Why are you fighting your natural destiny?" "Because—" the rest of the angry sentence stopped as the thick door creaked open. "Mistress!" Primary sounded as upset as she'd ever heard him. "There's trouble with Secondary." "Goddess, is he hurt?" "Yes. No. Come with me. Please. Forgive my impatience." Despite her distress, Arness checked for any means to escape before she hastily followed her pet outside. She found none. Whatever catastrophe had occurred elsewhere, allowing a valuable pet to escape would not help matters. "Is he badly injured? What happened?" They began to stride hastily toward the main house. "He'll recover. As to what happened, I believe he ought to tell you." Primary looked uncomfortable. Hubble-bubble filled the main hall. Pets and the patroness' female employees rushed about, gabbling excitedly. When Arness entered the hall, silence fell again. Arness looked at the worried faces, her throat closing up in sudden fear. Dorinda walked to her, looking nervous. "I put him in your guest bedroom, Mistress. I hope that wasn't the wrong thing to do. But he needs to be kept still for a bit." "What—” Arness followed Dorinda and Primary down the hall to where she always stayed while visiting. Amongst the fine ruffles and linen on the bed, Secondary lay, huddled and
Treva Harte
The Wildling
28
unnaturally quiet. Arness gathered her composure again. More upset wasn't going to help matters here. She walked forward to see what wounds Secondary had. When she saw, she gasped. "Who in perdition did this to you?" Arness demanded. Secondary shook his head slightly and winced. "He won't say," Primary explained. What had Secondary gotten himself into? Arness gently touched one of the still oozing gashes and winced herself. They looked extraordinarily painful. "What's going on here?" Morgena arrived in the bedroom, wearing a brocaded purple dressing gown, looking rumpled and annoyed. Six followed at her heels. "I don't know yet." Arness scowled. "No one seems interested in explaining." Morgena bent over the bed. "Ha!" She turned to the crowd who had gathered outside the door. "The rest of you, clear out. Dorinda, fetch me some salve. Primary, get some hot water and clean cloth." Six looked at her. "Oh, you can stay, pet. Go to the corner and keep quiet." She touched Six's hair briefly, tenderly, then pushed him much more roughly toward the corner. Sudden quiet reigned. Morgena looked at Secondary's back and shook her head, saying nothing. "Why in Goddess' name won't you tell me who did this and what happened?" Arness demanded. "Please, no, Mistress," Secondary whispered. Morgena held her hand up and Secondary stopped. "I was afraid of trouble. Not this bad, but it's no surprise." Morgena looked at Arness. "Don't you understand?" "Understand what?" "He won't tell you who did this to him—and curse the clumsy oaf who didn't know what she was doing—because he wanted this. He was whipped because your boy is a pain-pleasurer."
***** "I'll go with you, Mistress." Primary disposed of the bloody water in the basin with tight lips. "He won't be able to travel for another day or two." "No. You'll do what I wanted you to do in the first place. D'you think I'm incapable of handling two captures alone? I was taking Secondary mostly to keep
Treva Harte
The Wildling
29
him out of trouble." Primary lowered his eyes respectfully. "As you wish, Mistress." "I thought I knew my pets inside and out." Arness voiced the thing that she was truly upset over. "I missed the signs entirely with Secondary." "How could you know? He always did what you wished for sex, Mistress. He admires you too much to tell you he had additional urges." Primary still kept his eyes lowered. "But you knew, didn't you. Just like Morgena did." "He had no need to conceal himself from me, Mistress. He doesn't want to earn my approval." "Nonsense. He respects you." "Not the way he does you." "He'd lie to me about his sexual needs because he respects me so much?" Arness cinched the belt a little tighter on her waist. "Nonsense." "Truth, Mistress." Curse Adan. Now she had a new question. The stupid thought never would have come to her head without his drivel. "Do you lie to me about what you want, Primary?" "Mistress?" Primary's head snapped up. "I want what you want. That's how most men are. We need to obey." "Truly? Or have you been taught to think and say that?" Arness paused, not wanting to continue this discussion but unable to stop. "I don't understand." "Never mind." Arness whistled to the two captures who had been brought up for her. "It's not important." Primary stood, frowning, as he watched Arness make the two ready for travel. "Hey, there, my pets. No need to feel downhearted about not being selected first thing. It's not your fault this patroness has particular requirements. I expect good things from both of you, understand?" She crooned to the two of them. Primary ignored the uneasy feeling he had about leaving her on her own. She was right. She'd have no trouble with her captures on the way. They were already under her spell, both listening intently, eager to begin the journey with her alone. Still, it just didn't feel right, not being there to protect her. But then again, he shouldn't put his own judgment above hers. Primary touched his collar as he pondered, torn between his conflicting urges. And what did she mean by such odd questions?
Treva Harte
The Wildling
30
***** "Come on then." One of the other pets shook Four awake, roughly. "A convoy of females are coming to be bred." Four sat up, bewildered from sleep. He promptly cracked his head on the bunk above him and howled. The other pet roared with laughter. "Best hope you don't get a lump on your head. No woman wants a pet with a swelling there." He hit him on the shoulder. "Save your swellings for other places, Capture." "Females?" Four asked, shaking his head. "Yeah. This is your lucky day, Capture. Sometimes we have to wait weeks before the next group shows up. But one may pick you this morning and then you'll be initiated in the delights of being a breeder pet." "What if not picked?" Four felt desperation wash over him. He had some idea what delights awaited him and wanted to know them more fully. "You may have to wait still longer. Worse yet, Martine may get you first. The ranch women are supposed to wait for the paying guests' leavings, but if Martine wants you she'll have you. You'll know better than to tell." For a moment the other man looked fearful and then he laughed. "Look your best, Capture." Four stared down. Traces of oil still clung to his body, glistening. The mistresses had seemed to like it on him. He touched his forehead carefully. It hurt but there was no lump yet. He hoped he'd look well enough. "Hurry up, sluggards!" Dorinda entered the bunkhouse and clapped her hands impatiently. Four was pleased that he could follow everyone's words. He was becoming better at the mistress' language. The impatience also told him how urgently she wanted them to move. "They're here!" Four saw men hastily clutching and rubbing their genitals as they ran for the door. Most deliberately unrolled their leggings, letting their pants ride low. Many were already displaying prominent erections. Four hastily began to stroke himself under his breechcloth. He wasn't going to be left behind or taken by Martine—apparently a bad fate, though being used by any woman sounded wonderful to him at the moment.
***** "Patroness!" There were some thumps. A breathless laugh. Then came a long pause. "What now?" Morgena's distinctly irked voice came from the bedroom. "Can't the household be run for a few hours without my help?" Dorinda tapped her fingers on the doorframe but knew better than to try to
Treva Harte
The Wildling
31
enter right then. The patroness hated to be interrupted when she had a new pet. Instead Dorinda spoke loudly to the closed door. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but it's your daughter. She's arrived with a group of women wanting to be bred." "Perdition! Give me a few minutes. Go entertain her, see her trunks are taken to her room. You, lad, help me with my dress." "As if I didn't know how to do my job." Dorinda sniffed and made her way down the stairs to the hall. What the patroness needed was fewer pets and more vibrators. Dorinda had long since decided sex toys required far less effort than captures. Not that males weren't worth a few bouts now and then once they were properly seasoned, but for a quickie in the daytime, nothing worked like her own favorite mechanical wand. Dorinda walked down the stairs to the hall as quickly as one could if one wished to remain dignified. "Dorinda!" "Mistress Salla," Dorinda inclined her head. "How delightful to see you again! You're grown into quite the gentlewoman. Please sit down and rest while I get you something to eat and drink." "Mama won't see me?" "She will very soon, Mistress. She's had an unavoidable delay." Vibrators really were the answer. Dorinda kept thinking about how much more quickly the patroness could have been refreshed. Quick enough that Patroness Morgena would have been in the hall now herself, greeting her own daughter. The daughter who suddenly looked desolate.
***** "I'm nervous," Tanja whispered to her friend. "You've had pets before." "Not ones like these," Tanja murmured, looking at the rows of males before her. There were so many hard muscles and harder cocks. They were all blonde, all huge, all with eyes cast down as the women cooed and patted and looked over the lines. The pets waited quietly, letting the women touch and discuss what they would. Only their twitching erections showed the pets' eagerness. "Not one that I had to decide would be the right male to father a child." Nara licked her lips. "I'm only here for fun and to help split the cost of a topflight pet. But I could be nervous too, if I let myself think about how big these brutes are." She leaned forward to tickle the head of one cock with her finger. The pet
Treva Harte
The Wildling
32
braced himself but grunted at her touch. "Oh, look! He really is ready!" Nara held up one glistening drop of cum. "Maybe too ready," another woman said. "You want a good long sweaty ride before he breaks." The other woman went down the line, prodding and stroking. Nara was ready to turn to someone else but Tanja saw the pet look up just then. He met her eyes. The intensity of need he showed in his face dried her throat. He hastily lowered his gaze again. "Wait." Tanja held her friend’s wrist. "I might want this one." The pet slumped his shoulders in abject obedience now. Tanja moved closer and paused, intrigued. "Look, he has no collar!" She ran a finger over his neck. The pet seemed to stop breathing. The woman named Dorinda moved forward and murmured, "He's new, mistress. We haven't had time to fit him with one. Also, we usually don't allow a capture the honor of such a symbol until he's had his first female." "He's not had a woman before?" "None that we know of. He was just brought to the ranch yesterday." "Ohh." Tanja realized she was even more intrigued. "He's practically a wildling, then." "If he's new, you don't know his potential as a breeder, Tanja," Nara warned. "We can't afford to visit here more than once in a great while." "Should a mistress fail to breed she is welcome to return again for one reduced price visit." Dorinda spread open her hands. Tanja forced the pet's chin up with his fingers. He lowered his eyelids against her gaze but she saw a strong chin. Trembling lips. He was trembling all over with desire. She was sure it was desire and not fear. "This one," Tanja said. "I want to breed with this one." "Very well." Dorinda snapped her fingers. The pet stepped forward obediently. "I understand there will be two of you?" "Yes. I'm the only one who will breed, though. I heard the cost is less if I split with another guest." "Indeed. We do allow that as long as at least one of you is here for breeding. We're not a pleasure house, after all. The fee will be a bit more for a doubled visit, but since you share that cost it will be cheaper for each of you than using two pets. Mind you, as I said, this capture is new. He may not fully understand how to pleasure a guest without breeding." Nara shrugged. "If Tanja wants this one, fine. I'm sure we can teach the capture anything I
Treva Harte
The Wildling
33
want him to learn. This visit is mostly for her sake, anyhow." "Have your pick take your luggage to the Breeding House. We have dinner ready for the women guests. Afterward he'll be waiting for you in the Red Room downstairs. I'm sure he will satisfy you both." Tanja watched the capture lick his lips at Dorinda's words and almost said she would forget dinner and have him satisfy her now. Only the thought of how Nara would laugh at her eagerness made Tanja merely nod and follow her friend to the dining hall in the main house. She had already started on her way there when she paused and turned. She walked back to the pet. He looked up, startled, at her approach, forgetting to lower his gaze. Was he that fearful? “Your name?” Tanja asked. “What are you called?” He processed her words and then gave a wide grin. “Four. Called Four. Miss Triss.” He had a nice smile. It seemed almost guileless until you saw the sensual curve in his lips. She might not be able to afford him, but Tanja suddenly longed to have the new capture all to herself. What a pity she couldn't afford a personal pet like that. She'd probably wear him out in the first week. She hoped that he could last the weekend entertaining both Nara's and her demands.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
34
CHAPTER FOUR "You allow yourself to be a personal pet?" The hulking man before him stopped in mid-stride. He cocked his head at Adan with what looked like remarkably patronizing patience and said, "Yet another strange question. What do you mean by that…Capture?" "You look like more of a man than that." "Man. Pet. It's the same." The giant uncovered the food he'd brought and nodded to it. "Eat." Adan began to shovel the food in with his hands, pausing for a half-second now and then to speak through the mouthfuls. "If you think it's the same, then I'm sorry for you. Being someone's pet isn't a position any man should be in." "I'm Mistress Arness' pet," Primary said. "I can't imagine any better…position. But then you wouldn't know anything about that. Not cooped up in here. Wait until the mistress has been about your training for a few days. You'll wish you were me." The slow, sensual smile he gave after saying that made Adan ready to growl like a wild beast. He didn't want to think about why the idea of Arness with this overgrown excuse for a man made him so angry. He just knew he'd been ready for a fight with Primary ever since she had first spoken so highly of him. "To be Arness' personal sex toy and slave? I don't think so." The next moment Adan found himself up against the wall with the other man's arm hard against his windpipe. Adan glared back, refusing to be cowed by Primary's strength. "You speak of Mistress Arness with respect when you speak of her at all, little boy." The man spoke pleasantly, but his teeth were bared in what was more a snarl than a smile. "She's worth more than you or I put together. I've been with other women as their sex toy and slave. She saved me from that. I won't tolerate anyone sneering at her for that reason alone. But she's more. The mistress is an amazing woman. A wonderful teacher. Perdition, she's even capable of shaping you into a pet worthy of some female." "I never asked for that." Adan tried to speak steadily through the pressure on his throat. "Then you're fortunate enough to get something you haven't asked for." The man looked him up and down. He gradually eased up his grip. "You're young and you're pretty. Let Arness teach you and maybe in a few years you'll be worth something more than that to a woman." "You're not young or pretty. Are you worth anything to your mistress? Besides threatening men who'd be beaten for fighting with you, I mean." Adan told himself to stop but something stronger than good sense kept the ugly words
Treva Harte
The Wildling
35
coming to his lips. Primary laughed this time. "No. I'm not young or pretty. But I've learned enough tricks to keep the mistress happy. If you're lucky, you'll learn some before you age." Adan bit his tongue. How did the man know that he'd been dreaming of what might interest a woman? Ever since Arness had touched him he'd wanted more. More of her touch. More of…everything. He'd never gotten so hard so often at just the thought of her. Hard enough to even think, for just a moment, what it might be like to give up his freedom just to service a female. Over and over again. Curse his cock. Adan could feel it tighten a little, just at the thought. He could almost feel her hands caressing him in spots he hadn’t even known wanted the feel of her. Blast it! He wasn’t the insatiable animal women thought all men were. This overgrown lout did have a satisfied look to him, though, especially when he spoke about Arness. Curse him and her too.
***** "Mother." Salla knew it was foolish to feel hurt that her mother hadn't been just sitting and waiting for her, but there was a twinge of injury anyhow. Dorinda had given her tea and efficiently seen to her mound of luggage, but it had taken almost a half hour before her mother appeared. Salla had checked the length of time by the large clock in the dining room. Morgena arrived in a rush, swooping her up. "Back at last! It's been years, girl." Salla thought for a moment her mother might cry. Even worse, for a moment Salla felt tears stinging under her eyelids, threatening to fall. She refused to cry in front of her large audience. As always, when Morgena appeared, a group of males trailed respectfully after her, waiting to be noticed. "Mama." Salla kissed her mother's two cheeks, Academy fashion. "It was a beast of a journey but it's done. Thank you for the males you sent to help with the luggage." If Morgena had meant them to do more, Salla refused to acknowledge it. "They spend all their time here breeding and eating. Might as well have a few of 'em make themselves useful." Morgena looked carefully at her. "You look all dainty and citified, child. But pretty enough." Salla wasn't overly fond of her diminutive frame and even less fond of being told she was petite, tiny or even dainty. "That's what you paid money to make me become, Mama." "True enough. We have plenty of time to see what else you've become since
Treva Harte
The Wildling
36
you've been away. Meanwhile you're probably dusty and tired. A bath before dinner?" "That sounds wonderful." Salla had dreamed of a decent bath during the entire trip. "Fine. Which of the pets would you like?" "What?" "I'm going to see to dinner. Just tell Dorinda. There's a nice selection right here. Just pick one. Or two." Morgena bustled away. One of the blond males standing about broke away from the rest to follow Morgena. "No, no, la-Garic. Let Salla get a look and decide if she could use you," her mother told the male firmly. Morgena turned to call over her shoulder. "That one's new, Salla. Just named him, but I believe he knows what he's called already. He's become quite attached." Salla realized the young blond man looked a bit distressed even though he stayed as bidden. Salla opened her mouth to ask for more clarification, but Morgena had long since disappeared. She'd forgotten how quickly Morgena could move when she chose. "Very well. Which one do you want?" Dorinda asked. "There's plenty here to choose from and more outside if these don't suit." That was when, a little too late, Salla remembered the ranch custom. She'd been too young to have the pets attend her bathing before she left, but such baths were an accepted fact of ranch life. Salla took a deep breath. It seemed a bit early to set everyone straight about what one should and shouldn't do with males. Especially since these males were under orders to attend her. "None, really." Why had she said she wanted to bathe? Why hadn't she remembered in time? "I can do it alone." "Then who will take up the hot water for you?" Salla opened her mouth to say she'd have a cold bath. She paused, swallowed. Salla looked at all the expectant male faces waiting for her decision. Principles were easier to hold to when others didn't get hurt by them. It was also much easier to be strong when you weren't back in your mother's house, feeling about five years old again. "Any of them would be honored to attend to the patroness' daughter," Dorinda said, softly. My word. Now she'd be seen as rude when she said no. None of these people had any authority to change house customs. The person she needed to set straight had gone to the kitchen to see Salla had a homecoming dinner. The only thing that would happen if she said no here and now would be a useless argument. Dorinda would be distressed to see Salla being treated improperly
Treva Harte
The Wildling
37
and insist on doing her duty. My gracious word. What to do? Salla looked desperately around. There was one huge pet in the background, leaning with his back against the wall and arms crossed as if he had no stake in her decision. If she had to pick someone, surely she could dismiss someone like him quickly. "Him. I'll take him." Salla pointed. He straightened up in surprise, his disinterest vanishing as he stared at Salla. Dorinda looked troubled. Salla had the feeling she'd done the wrong thing. What pet could possibly be off limits to her? "I don't know—" The majordomo turned to the man. "Do you think Mistress Arness would mind?" He immediately lowered his eyes in that ridiculously subservient manner of all pets, his surprise covered up with unnatural docility. His obedience looked all the more out of place because he was such a large male. "I am sure she would insist on having me honor the daughter of the patroness and her choice." He might be too humble, but he spoke perfectly. The deep rumbling voice combined with the beautifully articulated words aroused a tiny flutter of interest. "I'm sure you're right." Dorinda seemed relieved when she turned to Salla. "As you can tell by the shade of his collar, he's not one of ours. His mistress left him here for a few days. But Primary knows everything there is to know about attending a female." "I'm only an out-country pet." Primary inclined his head again, this time to Salla. "But I will do my poor best." What had she gotten into? Salla smiled, a little nervously, as the huge bear of a male disappeared to ready her bath. The other men refused to follow his example, however. They seemed to be incapable of budging from the hall. Did they think she was going to take her mother's suggestion and pick an additional one? "Thank you, everyone. You can go now," Salla said, crisply. My word, now she was ordering them about. Not that any of them seemed to pay attention. "Stop your gawking. The mistress has made her choice. Have you no work to do? If not, I can find some!" Dorinda clapped her hands. With that dismissal, the crowd of males dispersed almost instantly. Dorinda winked at Salla. "Primary won't break the monogamy leash, of course, but from what I've heard, he's remarkably good with his hands and his attentions. After all, those
Treva Harte
The Wildling
38
older ones have plenty of experience. You made a better choice than most city girls." Dorinda sounded pleased. "I suppose you have your mother's eye for male talent." Oh. My. Word.
***** Salla ducked under the froth of bubbles as the man easily hauled up another bucket of water. The bath was the perfect temperature—not icy cold but not too hot for such warm weather. Clearly he was experienced in such matters. Not that she had the least intention of letting him continue to show he was remarkably good with his hands and attentions. "I really can manage on my own now," she said. "Surely you can't reach the small of your back properly. I know how my mistress aches after a long journey." Before she quite knew how it happened, his hands, strong and slow, were kneading at the tight muscles in her back. Heavenly. "Really, I can…manage." She managed not to whimper with delight. "Better?" His voice rumbled at a spot behind her ear. As he spoke, little puffs of air tickled her skin. "You were very sore." "Yes. But—” Her head lolled back as he began to massage her neck. She realized she was tilting her breasts a bit far out of the bubbled water and hastily sank further down into the tub. Primary wasn't stepping anywhere outside the bounds of respect and she was feeling remarkably…relaxed…around him. If there was just a little insistent tingle of awareness of how strong those hands were—well, she was only human after all. "You weren't used to pets at your Academy, Mistress Salla?" "Not really. I mean, why do you say that?" "You seem a bit more shy than most mistresses. I hope I'm not making you upset." Her nipples were hardening. She hoped it was from the water but she feared she was wrong. "No. Oh, no! Not in the least. Your hands are—I mean, your massage is perfect." She bit back a moan as he eased into working on her shoulders. Slick fingers soothed and teased. No. Not teased. She was imagining things because she wanted— No. She didn't want. Salla's eyes shut.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
39
"It's a pity you haven't learned your place," she said, half-asleep. "Am I being disrespectful, Mistress?" "No. I mean your rightful place in the world. You're too clever to want to stay so submissive." Salla yawned. "I learned that at The Academy." "Indeed." He began to lather her back with soap. "I'm merely a male, Mistress Salla. I'm born to obey." "Nonsense. No one was born for that." A spark of her usual zeal made her open her eyes though she yawned as she said the words. "In fact, I've studied the role of the genders in history. In ancient times there is reason to believe women were subservient." The hands rubbing over her skin paused. "No." "Yes. I have been privileged to research a historical artifact from our past life called The Flame and the Flower. I did my honors project on it. The work is incomplete, naturally, since the crash destroyed almost everything from Earth, but if my translation of the archaic English is correct it seems conclusive that men often dominated ancient society. Anyhow, I'm sure that in the manuscript women were slaves. Chattel. Sexual objects." Salla's head drooped, rested against the side of the tub. "And rather stupid." "You think this is how the world should operate?" Salla smiled a little at the horror in his voice. "Of course not. I just think nothing is unalterable among people. No person is born to be or act a certain way. I think males are people too." Primary watched her eyelids fall and stay shut. Very gently, aware she was too deep in sleep to be embarrassed, he lifted her from the tub and patted her dry with a towel. That was one of any bath-giver's tasks, but he suspected Mistress Salla would have refused to allow him to do his proper job had she been awake. He looked down at her diminutive but very feminine body. Her breasts rose and fell as she breathed deeply in sleep. Ha. Mistress Salla was a very delectable little morsel. She spoke so firmly and then acted so shy. Primary had the odd notion she was more uncertain than she allowed herself to appear. A shy, uncertain female hiding under the assertiveness expected of women? He wondered how a woman who combined those traits would treat a pet in bed. Unexpectedly, he felt his cock spring to life at the idea. Primary adjusted his leggings to ease the sudden discomfort. What was he thinking of? Primary knew he had a secret weakness for small women—perhaps because he was such a large clod. Perdition, if he wasn't already bound— But he was. Despite his own mistress' recent odd questions and this mistress' even odder reading material, he was bound. Unalterably.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
40
Perhaps the discussion of women as chattel and sexual objects was what made him want to crawl next to this woman and teach her what her proper role was. For a moment longer he let himself stare at a naked woman who hadn't allowed him the right to look. That was completely against the rules. And more arousing than he wanted it to be. Primary wasn't sure how long it took him to remember how wrong it was. Of course his hesitation merely reinforced the common knowledge that a pet's mind and will were weak and easily led by his cock. Right now that knowledge was almost reassuring. The words of this mistress hadn't changed his true nature at all. Eventually though, he forced himself to cover her naked body with a light coverlet, sternly refusing to allow himself to linger more over the task. He was almost done when he heard a yell from downstairs. Mistress Salla stirred uneasily and he paused, still holding the fabric against her, his two hands on either side of her body. What would she do if she saw them like this? Perversely, he was almost disappointed when she eased back into sleep. There was another yell. Primary sighed. This household was more volatile—and noisy—than most large ranches. "It's Mistress Arness!" He heard One's voice cry, even through the bedroom door. Primary threw open the door to run to the stairs. "What's wrong?" Primary forgot himself enough to yell down the stairs in his most booming voice. "What has happened?" One sounded almost hysterical when he replied. "She's been bushwhacked!"
Treva Harte
The Wildling
41
CHAPTER FIVE Adan almost jumped when the man cleared his throat. So far the fellow had said nothing to him since that first visit. He had grown accustomed to the silence. "I won't be back for a while. I'm leaving you enough food and water to last until tomorrow. My mistress has another pet who can see to your needs. If he is unable, the patroness will take care of it." "Aren't you pets sworn to obey your mistress? Has she told you to stop?" Was this part of her training plan? Did she want to teach him to fear that she would withdraw her protection if he didn't cooperate? Adan fought the strange sinking in his stomach that told him he did fear that. A little. He'd thought about the woman too much lately despite his efforts to stop. How she looked, her voice, even her scent. Her absence made him edgy. Adding a mystery to all that was just unfair. He was compelled to show his curiosity about her. "No. She can tell me nothing. That's why I must go to her. Her need is greater than my strict obedience." The man stood after refilling the water tray, clearly ready to hurry away. "Wait! Arn-your mistress is in trouble?" Clearly she must be for such a domesticated pet to voice such an amazing sentence. What need could be so great? "I'm sure of it. On the road back to this ranch a band of bushwhackers attacked her and her one remaining capture. She protected the capture, but was overwhelmed. Thank Goddess, One had the sense to return and tell us. We'll go back to where she was taken as soon as the patroness gives me leave to take some of her pets to save my mistress." "Let me be one of them." Adan didn't even question the words that burst forth. "I've lived in the bush most of my life but for these past few months. I can track these bastards down." "You?" The other man paused at the door, looking skeptical. "Mistress would never allow it. Or the patroness. You'd run away." "I'd never run away at such a time. I give you my word I would never abandon Mistress Arness to bushwhackers." "Your word?" Primary's voice was more skeptical than his look. "You're a pet. Maybe worse—you have no collar even yet. You're really still a wildling after all this time. Who are you to give your word?" "I am a man. I mean what I say." Adan wanted to shake the stupid male in front of him. "Do you not mean what you say?" The man looked confused. "Yes. Of course. But—” He moved, unexpectedly. In the middle of the
Treva Harte
The Wildling
42
sentence the man opened the door, shut it behind him. The lock creaked shut. Adan was tempted to try to bang the door down though he knew from past experience it was useless. Fool of a pet! Adan knew he could rescue Arness if he were temporarily freed! The voice came from the other side. "Don't try to confuse me. I will ask the patroness what to do."
***** “Your pet is ready.” One of the female workers opened the door to the Red Room. “Since this is his first time, we suggest that you keep the restraints on him as a precaution.” "He's tied?" Tanja was just drunk enough to feel amused rather than alarmed by the words. Aroused, too. Dinner had been oysters and champagne, spicy tidbits and little finger foods that aroused all kinds of appetites. She felt relaxed and eager at the same time. Nara raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who wanted a half-tamed breeding pet,” Nara commented. “I’m tired of the cowed, domesticated ones that I can afford to keep,” Tanja answered, defensively. “I think ones that haven’t been generations in captivity are healthier and smarter. Those are the genes I want for my baby.” Nara waved her hand. “Fine, fine. I see you’ve bought into the advertising this ranch does. Me, I just want to see what a wild pet can do for my sex life.” Once in the room Tanja immediately focused on Four, spread-eagled on the canopied bed. He should have looked foolish stretched out on the lacy red sheets or subdued with the red cuffs on his legs and arms. Tanja swallowed. He looked dangerous. Suddenly she wanted dangerous. She wanted Four. Tanja began to take off her fancy dining shift, her eyes on Four’s strong frame, fascinated by how tightly his fingers gripped his restraints. Goddess, he looked powerful! If the restraints had been any less, she was sure he would have snapped them off. “He does look delicious,” Nara said as she began to pull off her shift. “But make sure he’s tied down—at least until he figures out what we want from him.” Poor Four. Nara was right. He wasn't only dangerous. He must be afraid. He would have no idea why he was being held down. Naked, except for her high-heeled shoes, Tanja hurried to Four’s side.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
43
“It'll be all right,” she murmured. How much did he understand? He couldn’t speak the language well yet. “Miss Triss will—hurt?” Four swallowed hard. “Mistresses will feel good,” Tanja answered. “Two of us.” Four’s eyes darted over to the stripped down Nara. Nara was smallerwaisted than Tanja, though Tanja had been trying to eat right and exercise to get ready for motherhood. Nara had a nicer ass, too. Four’s eyes moved back to Tanja. The fear that lingered in his eyes left as he looked over Tanja’s body. Then his look heated up. Tanja could feel the wetness begin to trickle in her cunt. Four wanted her. He wanted her more than Nara. “Is he hard enough yet?” Nara asked, shaking her dark hair loose from her hairpins. Tanja looked. “Oh yes,” she said. His shaft was sticking up high and stiff. So were his male nipples. Tanja moved closer, ran her hands over the hair on his chest and then let her fingers trail down to his groin. Four whimpered. “This time—pliss?” he asked. Tanja frowned, then realized what he meant as clearly as if he could tell her exactly how hungry he was and why. “Others have teased you?” she asked. “Just teased and stopped? Sexually?” “Yess. Good tease. But more this time. Pliss?” “Tease me instead.” Tanja didn’t hesitate. She already felt as if she were dipped in warm water, the heat swirling up and around her, hotter and hotter. Four’s cock quivered. Then Tanja swung one leg over Four’s body, letting her pelvis touch just the tip of his cock. Four whimpered again. Strained upward another half inch and relaxed back, frustrated. “Hey! What about me?” Nara asked. “Hurry,” Tanja said, through gritted teeth. “I really want him.” “You’ll both really want each other more if you wait for me,” Nara said, unconcerned. She walked forward, stopped, rested her hand on one hip as she surveyed Four. Four turned his face toward her. Tanja saw the glazed look, the quick breathing. She slipped forward just a little to run her aching clitoris against his shaft. He jerked as if she'd hit him. “Tanja! Greedy!” Nara slid one leg over Four’s head, letting her vulva rest
Treva Harte
The Wildling
44
tight against his mouth. “We’ve shared pets before. Wait for me.” “I don’t know if I can,” Tanja said, truthfully. “For Goddess’ sake, hurry.” “Lick me, pet.” Nara jiggled her body impatiently. “He doesn’t understand—“ Tanja began and then saw the smile on Nara’s face as she began to rock herself forward and back. “He understands just fine.” Nara sounded blissful. “Here. Let’s see to you.” Nara was her dearest friend. They’d always known everything about each other, including what they found sensual. When they couldn't afford to buy a pleasure pet, they'd helped each other out in several sweaty, satisfying sessions. So when Nara’s fingers began to pinch her nipples, Tanja could feel them tighten hard, erotically. When Nara began to stroke her clitoris, Tanja knew she got wetter yet. Tanja's breathing sped up as she stroked Nara's neck. Nara knew ways to make her edgy. But being aware that Four was watching her as she and Nara fondled each other, hearing him pant as she shuddered, drove Tanja over the edge. When Nara sleeked her hands over and under Tanja's thighs, close to Four's own restrained thighs, Four moaned. Nara sighed, happily. "That feels so good against my clit," Nara said. "Moan again, pet." The next moan was loud and long. A split second later, Nara moaned, too. Four tensed. Goddess, he hadn't come yet. That was when Tanja knew she'd go insane if she waited one moment more. She needed the feel of that cock well inside her. “I have to, Nara! I have to!” Tanja impaled herself on a hard, very impatient cock. “Oh, Four!”
***** Salla woke to hear Primary's shout and then what sounded like a small roar and clanging downstairs. She decided not to give herself time to wonder how she reached the bed from her bathtub. She preferred to hurry and see what emergency had hit. By the time she had scrambled into her clothes, she heard her mother's voice downstairs and the clamor gradually subsiding. By the time she got downstairs, Morgena was conferring with Dorinda. No one else—other than her mother's ever-present Garic, of course—was in sight. Salla cleared her throat. Morgena looked up. "Ah. Dinner. Yes. I'm sure it's ready. We'll join you in a bit." Morgena's voice was dismissive. But Salla wasn't a pet to be dismissed.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
45
"What's happened?" "There's been a bushwhacking. Perdition. I'd hoped we'd cleaned out the last nests of those viperous scum, but that's an impossible task. It's been so long, though, that I never thought to insist on some guards for Mistress Arness." Morgena turned to Dorinda. "Bring me my bullwhip and the darts. My walking boots, too." "You can't go with the rescue party!" Dorinda protested. "When is the last time you've been in the bush?" "Ten years. Maybe fifteen." Morgena scowled. "What difference does it make? Someone has to lead them. Primary is a cursedly good pet, but they need a woman." "I'll go," Salla offered. "Not that a woman is absolutely necessary, I'm sure." The two older women looked stunned. "I may not have been in the bush for fifteen years, but that's more than you've been, girl," Morgena said. "Of what use would you be?" "Perhaps none. But you said you needed a woman. I'm that. I'm also young, strong and perfectly capable of walking long distances. I did that to get back to the ranch this week." Not that she had the faintest idea how one rescued anyone from bushwhackers or led males or anything else. But she wasn't going to have her mother going. "Primary asked if Adan might be part of the rescue party," Dorinda said. "Ridiculous!" Morgena paused and looked at Dorinda. "They'd get to know each other better." Dorinda smiled, a bit slyly. Salla had the feeling they didn't mean Primary and this other person. But she had no idea why the two women were looking so smug. "He might run away." Morgena sounded considering, despite her words. "Who do we have on the ranch who is strong enough and clever enough to watch him constantly with Primary and Mistress Arness gone? You have too many other duties. He says he won't escape." Morgena snorted. "He never said that before," Dorinda persisted. "Goddess help poor Arness! What a motley group I've assembled to help her." Morgena studied her daughter without much favor. "A girl with no more out-country sense than a city kitten and a half-wild pet who longs to escape." "I'll manage. If I don't, Primary will see to us." Salla had no idea why she was sure of that, but she saw some tension ease from her mother's face. "True enough. Primary is almost female sometimes with his abilities. Arness picked wisely with that one at least. Then again, Arness is an exceptional woman in all ways. I hope we can rescue her." Her decision made, Morgena began to
Treva Harte
The Wildling
46
walk toward the door. "I'll go tell Primary who the leader is for this expedition. I'll tell him to select pets Arness has brought to the ranch. They'll be the most eager to help. Go get ready, girl. If you leave now, you may get a few hours on the trail before sundown." Salla thought of her dinner but knew enough not to say anything aloud. Instead, after Morgena left, Salla turned to Dorinda. "Who is Mistress Arness?" Whoever she was, Morgena spoke of her far more admiringly than she did her own daughter. Rescuing her must be a coup that even her mother would acknowledge. Salla suddenly realized she wanted to prove to her mother she was worthy. She had for a long time.
***** “Goddess! He still hasn’t come?” Nara yawned, waking up from her sleep as Tanja and Four gave a particularly violent shaking to the huge bed. “His tongue alone wore me out. All that groaning and panting and licking. Why don’t you just rest? You must have come at least three times so far.” Nara was wrong. Tanja had already come four times “I think they used special staying oil on his cock.” Tanja spoke as coherently as she could. . Tanja rubbed her own breasts, both for her pleasure and to watch Four’s face as she did. His delight was hers, but his exhaustion was becoming hers too. He had to come. She wanted him to come. Her climaxes had been good, very, very good, but she wanted still more. Having one with Four would be the best. Oh. Besides, she needed his sperm. She'd almost forgotten why she was here. “Goddess. I always thought staying oil was a myth.” Nara raised herself on one elbow, absently beginning to masturbate as she watched. “But if any place would have the real thing, this ranch would. Oh my. The pet looks like he’ll die if he can’t come soon. Oh well, if he's going to take that long, I'm using the vibrator.” Four could hear his heart hammer, his breath rasp. The other female was talking—he couldn’t try to understand now. All he could attend to was the softness of the first woman, the grip she had on his cock, the feel of her rubbing up and down on his length. When he'd entered the room the ranch women had rubbed something on his cock. When it hardened, feeling randy but strangely numb, the group tied him up. While he was helpless they'd laughed and told him to be ready for anything. Four had thought he was going to be tortured. Tortured with sex. The Miss Triss bent down and kissed him again with her tickling tongue. He
Treva Harte
The Wildling
47
whimpered into her mouth. He'd been right. This was torture. But now he wanted the torture to go on. He didn't care if he did die from it. He wanted—he wanted— He heard the other woman making those broken sounds that meant satisfaction. Four wanted to make satisfied man sounds. He had a feeling his howls would reach throughout the ranch. “Four, you’re so close!” he heard the woman over him coax. “Please. Please.” Please. He must please her. He had seen her gasp and groan and cry over him. He had pleased her. He had to please— Please. Please. Please. His balls were drawn up so tight against him he wondered if they were still there. He couldn’t breath anymore. “Pliss!” he screamed, pulling himself up, feeling his restraints bite into his wrists and ankles. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but the feel of hot cum spewing up and out, the initial relief turning into coursing joy. This was worth everything. What others had whispered to him, what he hadn’t understood before, all became clear. He was born for this. She'd claimed him and he was meant to service his female. His cum, his body, everything was for her. He heard her call out, high and excited. He felt her body tighten around him demandingly. Four yipped out his happiness as he poured all of his seed into his mistress.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
48
CHAPTER SIX He was a pet. Just a pet. "I'm trusting you to take care of my daughter as well as your mistress." Why had the patroness whispered that as they left? The burden of responsibility left Primary fiercely scowling. At least the males of the group knew their business. Even Adan walked quietly and quickly down the trail after One. Perhaps the wildling wouldn't be trouble. "How long will it take us?" Primary asked. "I-I got lost a little, but I think no more than one and a half days. Maybe two days if some can't keep up." One glanced at the slight female in the rear of the group and then looked away. "So close to the ranch? Perdition, they're bold." Primary scowled harder. "They're even closer to town," another pet in the back ventured to say. "I'd forgotten about the town. The mistress never has us stop there." "No reason for her to stop. There's no money there." The speaker laughed a little. "It's a Goddess-forsaken place. It only keeps going because of the saloon and because the patroness helps the poorest townsfolk when times get really bad." "How far is it to get there?" Primary glanced back at Mistress Salla, struck by an idea. "Another five miles at most." "It's on our way?" "Close enough." One looked puzzled. "But why stop there? We could make a few more miles before it's too dark." Primary glanced back in line without saying more and One blinked, then nodded. Already the mistress was lagging a little further behind with every step. They would have to stop soon and Mistress Salla would be more comfortable in a town, even a Goddess-forsaken town, than camping in the out-country. Surely his responsibility to Mistress Salla wouldn't harm Mistress Arness overmuch. Primary vowed they would wake up that much earlier tomorrow. Mistress Salla would be rested and ready to walk then.
***** Salla bit her lip to keep from groaning as she slid onto the bench at the saloon table. She might have saved herself the trouble. Primary immediately knelt before her and began to ease off her shoes. How did he know her feet felt like two massive blisters?
Treva Harte
The Wildling
49
"Saloon-keeper, get some hot water in a basin!" Primary snapped. "The mistress needs it. Now." One of the saloon boys ran off to the back of the building at the command. Meanwhile Adan strode forward. "Why do we wait here?" he demanded, harshly. "Your mistress needs us as soon as possible." "Your mistress needs to be attended to first," Primary snarled back. "I'm not his mistress," Salla protested. "I don't own him." "She's not my mistress," Adan said at the same time. "No one owns me." Salla's mouth hung open. "Mistress Salla, perhaps your pet was not properly introduced to you." Primary snatched the basin from the goggling saloon boy and placed her feet in it. The warm water, though a bit dirty, felt wonderful. "This is Adan. Your welcome home present." "Mama wouldn't—Oh, my word. Of course she would." Salla stared up at the ferocious looking male before her. He was almost as tall as Primary, though built on leaner lines. His white-blond hair was the epitome of all that most females would find attractive in a pet. Avoiding Adan's angry gaze, Salla looked directly in front of her…at the cloth he wore to cover his genitals. Well, very likely that, too, would be attractive. Primary, brown-haired and equally browned by the sun, grunted as he saw where she'd glanced. He turned his attention to Salla's feet. "Well, any female would look!" Salla protested, then clapped her hands to her mouth. Why was she explaining herself to him? She went back to looking at Adan's face. "You're very attractive, but I don't want a pet," Salla told the blond man standing before her. "I don't believe women should own men." "Good. Because I don't either." The ferocity didn't ease from his eyes or mouth. Her hearing hadn't been faulty before. She'd finally found someone in agreement with her views. Wouldn't it be just like Mama to give her a pet who believed in everything she thought? That also explained the smug looks that she and Dorinda had given each other. Well, if Mama thought she was somehow going to change her mind with this little surprise— "Ow! That hurts!" Primary's hands were a little less gentle than usual suddenly. "Sorry, Mistress." He sounded as if he were speaking through gritted teeth, though he didn't look up. "What are those bedraggled looking pets over there doing?" Salla pointed
Treva Harte
The Wildling
50
over at the bar where a few males, none of them half as attractive as her group, smiled flirtatiously at some oblivious females. Those females clearly agreed that Salla's males were better to look at. Then again, the women themselves were none too beautiful. "Trying to create some business for their owner," Primary answered. "They're saloon boys. You've heard of such things. Why do you want to know, Mistress? Are you looking for some new pets?" "Ohhhh. They look rather thin and unkempt for that job." Salla pulled her feet out of the water. Primary was being unnecessarily forceful in his work at the moment. "Obviously being a saloon boy in Desolation is not the most prestigious job. They're probably lucky the owner has enough units to feed them." "That's disgusting," Adan said. "Right. Disgusting. Poor things." Salla frowned. "I wonder how much it would cost to buy them." Primary got to his feet and Salla blinked at the look that crossed his face. Surely he wasn't angry! "Not much. Any one of us would probably be worth more than the whole lot together. Neither One or I can be put up for sale but I suppose you're free to do as you wish with the others. Do you want to trade?" Primary turned his back to her. "Yo, saloon boy! Take the water away. The mistress is done with it." "No, not at all. I just wondered. Perhaps I could buy them and free them. I got some units for my graduation." Salla reached out and grabbed the dirty vest of the saloon boy who had scurried forward to take the basin. "You, um—pet." "Miss Triss?" He couldn't speak as well as her pets. Not that she owned pets. "Would you like to be freed?" Eyes widening, the saloon boy backed away. "Free? What would they know about freedom? They've probably spent all their lives domesticated. They couldn't go back to the bush. What use would they be if they lived here and weren't owned?" Primary still sounded angry. "They could find out." Adan spoke up again. He looked down at Salla. For a moment he didn't look so angry. "You would free us, Mistress?" "That's my goal in coming back here." Salla said her plan aloud for the first time. "To put theory into practice." "Hey!" A loud female voice spoke up. A stout, gray-haired woman in a tattered apron walked out from behind the bar. "What do you mean, coming here and upsetting my pets? Trying to put ideas in their brains, are you?" "Are you speaking to me, Madam?" Salla asked, with her best Academy-
Treva Harte
The Wildling
51
taught hauteur. "Yeah. You. The one who has my boy there all a-twitter." She jerked a thumb toward the saloon boy who appeared to be wringing his hands at the corner of the bar. "What are you asking him questions like that for? As if he'd be able to answer! You know, we have ways to deal with sissified women like you here in the out-country. All your kind does is stir up trouble." Salla suddenly realized there was a large hunting knife in the woman's hand. My blessed word! She'd shed the belt that held her weapons when she sat down. One of the pets had tidied it away immediately. She heard what sounded like growls from both Primary and Adan. Both men moved to shield her with their bodies. My word again! They, of course, had no weapons either. Did they intend to guard her with their bare hands? Salla looked wildly around. She'd read about a makeshift weapon in another remnant of the old artifacts she'd read—there it was. Just like in Shanna. An empty whiskey bottle, carelessly left on the table where she sat. She stood, grasped the bottle and slammed it hard on the wood. It shattered noisily, leaving a jagged edge. "You care to dispute my opinions with me, Madam?" Salla asked, holding the bottle like a weapon. The other woman looked at the two men, both of whom stepped forward, and then at the broken bottle. "Uh…I might've been a bit hasty. I don't want to argue." "No arguing? Excellent. Because I would rather buy rooms tonight for my pets and myself at your fine establishment." Salla smiled, sweetly. "Rooms? For pets?" "We'd like to be stabled with your pets, if you don't mind, Mistress Saloon Owner," Primary interrupted, though he did so with his customary obedient tone. "The mistress will want your best room, however." "Call me Mistress Babs." The woman smiled, showing darkened teeth. "Goddess, you're a big 'un! Loyal to your mistress, too, if a mite foolish about risking your skin. Then again, what can you expect from a pet?" "May I make the mistress' room ready?" Primary asked, still sounding polite, though not acknowledging her words. Salla had to admire how neatly he did it. "Shouldn't you be planning out what we'll do tomorrow for your mistress?" Adan interrupted this time, far less politely. "I have some thoughts on the matter if you have time for them. Pet." "I can do that alone. After Mistress Salla is cared for. I know my job as a pet. Better than some here. Capture." "If you could just show me to a room, Mistress Babs, I would, of course, be happy to have Primary's help." Salla had the distinct feeling she needed to
Treva Harte
The Wildling
52
separate the two males, though she wasn't entirely sure what was going on. She was almost positive she saw Adan bare his teeth in a snarl as Primary followed her up the stairs to the rented room.
***** "Is something the matter with you?" Salla asked as Primary shut the door behind him rather firmly. It would be too much to say he slammed it, but there was a noticeable noise when the door closed. "No, Mistress. Let me tidy this room up for you. It's about as bad as I thought." She watched him scoop up a scattering of trash from the floor and then remove his vest to use for dusting off the thick dirt coating that lay on the chair. Salla wrinkled her nose. These were not the accommodations she was used to. Then again, neither was a night out in the bush. She looked dubiously at the coverlet on the lumpy bed a second before Primary whisked it off and began to shake it outside the half-opened window. Then it hit her. Primary was completely bare-chested. She certainly had seen most of him behind that vest but somehow just looking at the complete picture— the masculine pelt of hair that curled enticingly, the small, dusky pink, male nipples, the hard muscles that rippled…Salla swallowed hard. It made for a very delectable picture. Even if, especially if, he was still angry. She watched his movements, which were just a bit too emphatic. Yes. For some reason Primary was angry. Why did that make her want to provoke him more? "You really are a very useful sort of pet," Salla said. "An excellent attendant for a lady. You bathe her, clean her rooms—would you dress me in the morning when I wear something formal with lots of little hooks in the back?" Primary's jaw stiffened. "I attend to whatever my mistress requires. She's never worn such a thing but if she did, of course I would do what she needed." "Oh, yes. The wonderful Mistress Arness." Salla suddenly felt a little prickle of something ugly inside. "The paragon of womanhood according to you and my mother. What makes her so wonderful?" Primary's face softened from its tight lines. Salla felt another little prickle of unwanted and ugly emotion. The mysterious Arness, even in her absence, could make Primary forget his annoyance. "She's a wonderful mistress. She rescued me from my past life and taught me everything. She does that for others. She's firm but kind, thoughtful and patient. She cares for all her pets but she's come to depend on me. It's an honor." Primary stopped, blinked and then mumbled. "I talk too much. Mistress, the top of this coverlet is fairly clean. I suggest you don't pull the sheets and coverlet over you
Treva Harte
The Wildling
53
tonight. I can't guarantee what is underneath. Do you require anything else?" "What was your past life?" Salla ignored his attempts to ease away. "When I was a young man I was captured and sold to a pleasure house. Rented out by the night or week. I learned a great deal about the many whims wealthy females had. I learned how displeased they could become if you did not attend to them perfectly. Mistress Arness came to the house when she was younger and saw me after a particularly unpleasant punishment from a dissatisfied client." Primary swallowed. "She took every unit she had from the sale of her first capture and bought me. Took care of me until I was strong enough again to help her. I've never seen her hurt a pet under her care. When she punishes, it's because she must and I believe she grieves more than the foolish male does." Petty spite forgotten, Salla reached out to touch Primary. Her hand brushed against his broad male chest. "You were hurt? I am so sorry, Primary." "It was ten years ago, Mistress. The hurt is gone now." There was a slight tremor in Primary's hands as he slid his palms up and under hers. Salla wondered if it was an almost-caress, a need to have his hands touch hers, or the subtlest of refusals. Did he not want her to touch his bare chest? A pet couldn't say no. An enlightened female ought not to press a pet. Especially a pet who might be unwilling. But Salla found herself reaching as high as she could to touch Primary's jaw-line with her finger. She could feel the beginnings of stubble. Male facial hair felt different. She'd never before touched a male like this. "You're very attractive, Primary." Was that her voice, breathy and excited? "Thank you, Mistress." His voice had a catch in it, too. "Why were you so angry with me downstairs? And with Adan?" "I wouldn't presume to be angr…" His breath caught as her hand slid against one of those interesting male nipples. She rubbed it, experimentally, with her finger and watched it tighten. Did that mean what it did with females? Salla looked at Primary. His hands had fallen down to his sides, pressed against the wall behind him. "Don't fib, Primary. You were angry." "I was jealous." "Of…Arness? Adan seemed upset over her." "Yes. No." Primary shut his eyes as Salla teased his nipple to an ever-harder peak. "I have no right—Mistress, please stop. I can't think." "Pets don't think very well. So you say." Salla smiled. "But surely what I do can't make an experienced pet like yourself forget to think?"
Treva Harte
The Wildling
54
She felt him shiver just slightly. The room was warm. The saloon didn't run to expensive fans. So she must be making Primary shiver. How wrong of her. How provoking. How— "Delightful." Salla gave in to her next urge and leaned forward to lick Primary's chest. It tasted salty and…male. "Mistress, I am someone else's personal pet. " Primary's voice sounded almost agonized. "If you continue, I'm afraid where this will take us." Salla stopped short. What had she been doing? She wasn't some sensualist who gave no thought to anything but her own desires. She stared at the hand she held against Primary's chest. She felt his heart pound hard against her palm. She was forcing some man? Oh, my word. Hastily she took her hand away. "I'm bound. Mistress Arness has the monogamy leash on her personal pets and I couldn't dishonor her. " Primary swallowed. "Forgive me." "Has she done a formal ceremony?" "A what?" "Of course not. It's a new ceremony back in the city. A silly one, really, made to keep pets happy, I suppose. And an excuse for a party." Salla felt uncomfortable. Why was she continuing with this topic? She ought to dismiss him. But she went on anyway. "When you take on a personal pet, you dress yourself up. Then someone oils your pet to make him look his best and leads him out with a real leash to symbolize the monogamy leash he's entering. The owner accepts the leash and then there's a large party." "Oh. That doesn't sound so bad. It's a public acknowledgment of your pet's importance to you." "Yes, it is bad! It's demeaning, really. You see the leash isn't attached to a collar at his neck. It's…um…there is a collar and leash elsewhere." "Oh." Primary grinned suddenly and his voice turned lower. "Are you afraid that my collar and leash would slip off if I were given to you? I can assure you that it wouldn't. Not for you. Not during the ceremony. Not after. My cock would stay hard until you took care of it." Salla couldn't help her blush. What was the man about? Hadn't he just warned her off not two minutes ago? But now he was making her feel wet in places… "Easy to say. You're bound elsewhere." Salla knew she sounded distinctly cross. Maybe even sulky. "I needed to warn you. I needed to remind myself. You're the first female who has truly tempted me to ignore my mistress." Primary swallowed again. "There is pleasure I am allowed to give other women. Up to the limits of my leash. If that woman desires it." "Why should I want some limited half-pleasure?" Salla shook her hair back.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
55
"I would not allow my restraints to limit your pleasure, Mistress Salla." Primary spoke almost formally, but his words and the look in his eyes made her teeth clench together against the sudden rush of desire. "I won't, " Salla said. Primary blinked. "Not unless you want to," she added. "Mistress, haven't you listened? I've said as much as any male is permitted to say about his wants." Primary lowered his eyes again. "I will be happy to do as you wish, Mistress. As far as I am able." "Oh, stop that stupid subservience! I preferred you angry and jealous!" Salla stamped her foot. "That seemed real." "It's all real, Mistress." Primary raised his head. "But I think I understand what you want now." He lifted her up and placed her on the bed. She looked up, seeing his arms braced on either side. My word. Those muscles were so powerful. So…male. Salla licked her lips. Then his mouth was on hers, his tongue tracing the path her tongue had just taken. A bold, clever tongue. One that didn't ask permission. Hands began to ease off her rough working clothes. Then that tongue followed the hands. Salla could feel alternate waves of heat as he touched and then cool stings of disappointment when he paused. Was he waiting her permission or trying to drive her into a frenzy? Salla wasn't sure. Soon she didn't care. She realized that if she whimpered or twitched or scratched—as if she could help what she did by now!—the pauses became less frequent, the caresses longer. Her legs moved more and more restlessly, her hips rising and falling. He'd done right to warn her. Primary must be some kind of sex demon, able to turn her into a mindless puppet, writhing mindlessly. Then she realized her movements weren't mindless. They did mean something, something the male above her could interpret perfectly. His head moved lower and she could feel the patterns his wet tongue made on her thighs. That tongue was pulling her into deeper and deeper delights. Finally his hands teased at the opening to her vagina. She tensed and relaxed as his finger brushed against her clitoris. Primary knew what to do. She needn't fear. The finger played with her swollen clitoris, providing just the right pressure. Salla sucked in a deep breath that ended with a gasp. At the sound, his finger slipped inside, probed. Both of them could now feel how moist and warm she was. The finger paused briefly, exploring her inside. Salla heard a moan. She thought it was hers. Perhaps it was Primary's. Her eyes opened just briefly to see the almost pained look on his face. Then she shut them again.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
56
When he withdrew the finger, Salla wanted to protest, but he gave her no time. His hands, swift and sure now, spread her legs, tucked them over those delightfully strong male shoulders. Salla knew she was opened for any kind of pleasure Primary chose to give her. His choice was direct and strong and intimate as he fastened his mouth over her opened entrance. He sucked and nibbled, licked and rubbed. The pull of his mouth pulled deep at something inside her. Salla would have screamed but for his hand, which hastily moved from other more erogenous parts of her body to clap over her mouth. Her legs tightened hard around his back instead. The final pull of his mouth dragged her into ferocious pleasure. Goddess. Goddess. Goddess. She wanted more. But if she got it she might die from the overwhelming sensation. Then, amazingly, she hit a final, breathless peak and crested to completion. "Ahh, mercy." The clenching unclenched at last, leaving her quite bonelessly relaxed. Her legs slid from Primary's shoulders. Her fisted hands loosened. Salla sighed. "That was wonderful." "Yes." Primary still looked pained, but he had a large smile on his face. "I can see you enjoyed yourself." "Enjoyed?" Salla thought over the word. "A bit more than that." His hands eased her into a more comfortable spot on the bed, then efficiently bundled her into a long, shapeless shirt that she brought for sleeping on the trail. "What wonderful hands you have, Primary," Salla said, sleepily. She turned to kiss the nearest one. "So relaxing. So ruthless." "Thank you, Mistress. Go to sleep now." She heard him shrugging on his vest. His clothing rustled. His footsteps hit the floor softly as they moved from her room. She had almost completely drifted off when a sudden thought hit. What pleasure had he received? Before she could worry over the idea, she was asleep.
***** "D'you think you might be ready to discuss what we're to do now, pet?" Adan grabbed him by the shoulder as Primary leaped the stairs almost two at a time. "No! Goddess damn it! Get out of my way!" Primary snarled and straightarmed the younger man as he ran. He'd been noble. He'd done the right thing. But now he had a hard-on that felt like he could fuck a roomful of females and still be ready for more. What was getting increasingly more likely was that if he didn't get some
Treva Harte
The Wildling
57
privacy soon, he would have to pleasure himself and not care who walked by or watched. Other pets did that. Such delights weren't to Primary's taste. But tonight he could make an exception. He hit the semi-privacy of the stables and an empty stall. Primary sank against the wall with a sigh of relief, already fumbling with his leggings. Goddess, Salla had looked so fragile—her nipples were so pink—she'd sighed when she came—she tasted… Primary groaned as the first spurt of his semen came shooting out. He imagined her small, curious fingers on him and felt like the insides of his balls would hollow out as he came even harder. Done. He'd come faster than he had since he was a young, untried male. Primary let out a sigh and rested his head against his knees. He imagined Salla staring at him after his performance, her eyes wide, and realized he wasn't quite as done as he'd expected. His cock rose, almost as hard as if he hadn't taken care of the issue seconds ago. "Perdition. What's wrong with me?" "You know what it is. Personally, I don't care." Adan's voice spoke from the other side of the stall. "The men have a campfire set up. We need to figure out how to rescue Arness. Soon." "She's the Mistress to you and all of us." Primary spoke carefully, trying to ignore his cock. Adan, curse him, was right. This was no time to turn overly male and think only of his lusts. "I'll join you in a minute." As soon as he was sure he wouldn't be the jest of every man in the group when he was seen in public. Primary carefully stood. Adan waited on the other side of the stall, looking irritatingly patient, with his arms crossed over his chest. "Now?" Adan mouthed. Primary gestured a suggestion that made the other man laugh.
***** Salla woke up, choking a bit on saloon dust but, except for her lungs, feeling quite wonderful. She realized it was dark outside and, unbidden, she thought of Primary. Primary and what they had left unfinished. The darkness reminded her how hidden and private they could be if she happened to see him. Not that she would torment him. She'd never do that. She was down in the saloon before she had time for second thoughts. The saloon boys were nuzzling against a different group of women this time. Salla decided to ignore them rather than possibly cause an uproar. She headed directly to the saloonkeeper, who was pouring out glasses of cheap white wine. Several women would have headaches in the morning.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
58
"My pets?" Salla asked. "Where are they?" Mistress Babs pointed outside. Salla saw the glow of a campfire not far away. "Nice looking ones," the other woman acknowledged. "Bet you don't offer to set them free, do ya." Salla scurried out, followed by the sound of the woman's barking laugh. She sounded as uncouth as some of the men when they lapsed into their own primitive language.
***** "Gimme." The men gobbled and chewed, all pretense at manners gone now that no woman saw them. Dinner was over in minutes. There were a few comfortable belches as the meal settled. One or two of the men scratched. Time for after-dinner small talk. The silence stayed comfortably intact for several minutes. "Arness? Huh. Whacha like?" "Hands." One panted a little. "Good hands." Yips and howls filled the air. "Ohyah. Mowth, too. Grrrr. Gooood mowth," Garic spoke dreamily. More howls of agreement reverberated. Primary shifted uncomfortably. Thoughts of his own mistress jumbled confusingly with that of the woman he'd recently left asleep. He felt disloyal and horny and worried all at the same time. Maybe the reversion to manspeak made him unable to control himself. Whatever the reason, his cock kept twitching at the thought of a small, well-bathed and sleepy Salla in bed. He sighed and scratched his balls like the rest of them. That helped a little. The other men grunted and slapped their hands on their thighs at the talk of Arness. Adan spoke up. "Justa woman." The other men moved restlessly at the comment. "No." Primary closed his mouth again. Too late. "No?" Adan asked, a little more aggressively. Once again Primary forgot to shut up as he snapped out a defense of his mistress. Justa woman indeed! He switched back to the civilized language of his mistress to make his point. Nothing else could catch all the nuances of a female. "She's…she's poetry. When you're inside Mistress Arness she is able to get every drop of pleasure from you and her both. The rest of the men here know that. Even if a pet never gets that far with her, he senses she could make sex that
Treva Harte
The Wildling
59
way for him if she wanted. That's why all of these men can't forget her, new capture. That's why no man can." Primary thought he heard Adan swallow hard, but wasn't sure because someone else broke in, also in civilized language. "I remember when she captured me. She dragged me out of the needle bush I was fool enough to jump in to hide. Then she pulled each one of those needles out herself," the man recounted. "Perdition take me, but when she was done I almost wished I'd had more to take out." As male amusement rumbled into laughter, Salla blinked hard against tears, and moved away unheard. She didn't want to know more. Salla clenched her fists. She wasn't here to try to have sex with a stupid male who thought he belonged to someone else. She was here to rescue that someone else. She'd plan out the rescue and when it was over she'd be done with all of them.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
60
CHAPTER SEVEN "Hello, Secondary." Secondary was half-slouched on the windowsill, looking outside, when he saw who his visitor was and ducked his head. Then he winced. "Still twinges, eh?" Morgena snorted. "Idiot." "I am aware of my idiocy, Mistress." Secondary kept his eyes down. "Especially since I failed my mistress. I should be trying to rescue her." "That sounds like Primary. I bet he laid into you before he left." Morgena sighed. "Yes. But he was right." Secondary's voice became a little less formal, though he still sounded miserable. "Of course he was right." Morgena reached forward and touched him very gently on the shoulder. "Doesn't mean you were all wrong, either." "I feel wrong. I feel slimy." Secondary cleared his throat. "I don't know how to stop, either." "Which do you feel worst about? Failing your mistress or why you failed her?" "Both. Why, mostly, I suppose. Because it's something I need. I'm disgusted with my desires but I still crave pain. If I had to do this all over again I might chose my partner a little better but I'd chose pain again." "Would you let it interfere with your duty to Mistress Arness again?" "No. Never. I wouldn't have the first time if I'd known what was to befall all of us!" Secondary looked up and for a moment tears glittered in his eyes. "Then we'll have to see what we can do to help you, bucko. After all, Mistress Arness and Primary failed you, too." "No!" "They didn't want to see your needs so they didn't teach you what to do about them. Safely." Morgena rubbed her chin. "I can. If you wish to learn." Secondary studied the older woman. The patroness knew everything. Everything about men. Maybe even more than the mistress. That's what the pets on the ranch said. Many said it with a laugh and a nudge. Some just smiled. Secondary touched his tongue to his lip. "I belong to Mistress Arness." Secondary said, slowly. "I'm her personal pet. That comes with responsibilities." "You were concerned with that when you sought out a pain partner?" "Yes. No. I never left my monogamy leash." "And you think I don't understand what you are bound to and how? My
Treva Harte
The Wildling
61
dear boy, please. I've been handling pets since long before you were born." Secondary slowly and painfully got on his knees. He lowered his eyes again. "Then teach me. Please. I have to know." "An excellent start." Morgena's voice grew sharper. "Now that you accept my teaching, I have a question you must answer." "Yes, Patroness." "Was it Dorinda who did this to you?" "No! I mean, I don't wish to…No, Patroness." "Careful, bucko. You almost treated my question with disrespect. Disrespect means punishment." From the corner of his eye, he saw her draw a small riding quirt from her belt. She slapped it against her boots. "Yes, Patroness." Secondary felt a familiar sexual excitement begin to course through him at the sound. "I will explain myself to you once. After that you will do exactly what I say when I say. I didn't think Dorinda a fool or inexperienced. It would've distressed me to discover I was wrong, since she is the only woman I find indispensable on my ranch. Now you need say no more on the subject. I'll find out the rest for myself." Secondary quivered at the grimness in her tone, even though it wasn't meant for him. "I understand, Patroness." He knew—in his soul, in his brain and, most especially in his already hard cock—he'd finally found the right taskmistress for him.
***** "Arness." The word was almost noiseless, a mere vibration of sound, mingling in with the crickusts that hummed noisily in the scrub and mesquites. Arness opened her eyes. Faint though the voice was, she knew who spoke. What other man would dare call her by her name alone? She knew not to say anything. She just nodded her head once and thought she could hear the slightest of rustling that meant Adan was disappearing back into the night. There were too many renegades to attack directly. Arness knew Morgena had many men but no one would have anticipated close to a hundred bushwhackers, of both genders, armed with plenty of knives, whips, darts and machetes. Morgena would be foolish to risk the lives of her pets for an immediate rescue once she realized the scope of the problem. Arness just hoped her own
Treva Harte
The Wildling
62
pets weren't rash enough to risk an attempt. She could wait. She hoped. Then again, if it had been Adan, perhaps he'd escaped and was alone. Given his feelings, he'd be insane to risk anything for the woman who was attempting to domesticate him. If he was smart, he wouldn't tell anyone but head back into the deepest parts of the out-country. Had he whispered to her to taunt her? No. No man risked discovery from a band of cutthroats just for that. Arness willed herself to calm. She had to wait and see. What other choice did she have? Impatience now could only do harm. "Yo!" Another familiar voice, louder and rougher than usual, boomed over the campsite. Sleepy sentries scrambled toward the sound. Others sat up in their bedrolls, startled, reaching for weapons. Two large men, men she knew well, stepped out of the shadows. Both of them were as naked as wildlings. The smaller of the two giants spoke. "Where's the boss?" Adan sounded unconcerned, almost friendly, despite a machete being stuck under his neck by one zealous guard. "Fucoff," the guard growled. Arness had never bothered to learn manspeak before, but when what your captors said could mean life or death, she'd had much more incentive to learn what the strange grunts meant. Now she strained to hear more. "Who're you?" Merdeath strode from his tattered leader's tent, bullwhip coiled and ready. Arness carefully eased herself to one shoulder to get a better look. Merdeath was no pleasant sight at best, but now, his dark hair flying, standing almost as tall as Primary in his boots, he was chilling. Adan merely smiled. "We bagged this—" One, eyes wide and terrified, was pulled from the background, shoved suddenly in front of the campfire. "Want him back?" Merdeath picked up the far from small One, dangling him in the air like a disobedient puppy. Low growls rumbled through the camp. "We do. But why should you care what we want?" Merdeath fingered the handle of his whip as he enunciated in the civilized language. He liked to intimidate the wildlings of his band with formal speech, and Adan looked closer to wildling than anything else despite his language. Merdeath dropped One back to the ground. The capture landed with a thud. "We'd like to trade." Adan spoke as formally as Merdeath. Even as Adan spread out his hands innocently, showing his absence of weapons, Arness felt a knife slicing into the bonds that tied her hands behind her. The knife was then placed in her cupped hand. "Come now." A new feminine voice whispered in Arness’ ear. Arness gingerly tested her wrists to see if they would support her and then
Treva Harte
The Wildling
63
began to ease ever so slightly away from the fire. Her guards were gaping at the show by the main bonfire just like everyone else in camp was. Primary belched, ignoring the machete prodding at his back. Arness stopped. She’d forgotten he would be recognized. “Danger,” Arness whispered. “Got to save them—“ “You can’t. Go.” The woman almost hissed. "Shaddup." Adan easily moved away from the machete held near him to shove at his partner. Primary fell forward a little, just out of reach of the blade that poked at him. "Forgive me. My partner only understands manspeak." Maybe they’d be wily enough to escape anyhow. Both of them were already precious inches further away from the weapons held against them. Arness bit her lip. "I see. What do you want for this capture of yours? Capture of mine, actually," Merdeath asked, his eyes fixed on Primary and Adan. Almost as an afterthought, he kicked One, who was huddled on the ground. Nobody paid attention to the pet's yipe. Adan shrugged. "We're tired of living in the bush. We want to join you." "Do you think that’s your decision? Do you actually believe you are allowed to choose what is yours and what is mine? That you can do whatever you wish here and leave? We don’t allow visitors to come in or out of our camp so easily, wildling," Merdeath sneered. Primary put his foot on One. "Mine.” Primary scowled and hit his chest. His guard moved closer to him again and held her weapon threateningly. "Shall we slit their throats, Master?" The woman holding the machete to Adan's neck asked. "Why should you?" Adan answered. Merdeath laughed before he slapped Adan hard enough on the shoulder that Adan took a half step back. The guard looked at her leader and put the machete down. "Good answer. You've got some guts." Arness disappeared into the bush at that point, but was close enough to hear the next words. "I permit you to sit down and tell me why I shouldn't kill you." The small hand pulled at her wrist, silently leading Arness further away. Arness knew the other woman was right. The best help she could be would be to get out so they could all escape quickly. Primary at least wouldn't leave until she was gone. Arness concentrated on being as silent as she could as she moved further into the bush. She could hear rumbles of laughter. A few yips and howls. Then only the rise
Treva Harte
The Wildling
64
and fall of voices in the distance. Soon she was far enough away that she could hear nothing more. "What—" Arness began "Quiet. Patrols." Arness scowled. She knew that. But she also needed to know what was planned next. She wasn't going to leave three of her pets in that viper's nest. A loud scream, loud enough to be heard from where they sat, shattered the quiet. Then another. Arness slid the knife into her palm. If she had to go back for them, she would.
***** "How do you feel now?" The voice came, reassuringly calm through the darkness of the blindfold. Secondary thought about his response carefully. "Fine." Better than fine. His body was humming with anticipation. Somehow the lack of sight heightened all the other sensations the patroness was giving him, just as she had promised it would. The tight clasp of what she'd called a metal noose held firm against the base of his cock. The metal had been cold when it first went on, gradually warming against his skin while Secondary stood, as commanded, bent over a chair. The noose gripped him firmly, like a tight hand. He wasn't quite sure what else it would do except that wondering had made him hard and its grip kept him so. He stood, waiting to find out what more would happen. "I won't inflict pain on you, Secondary. Not this time. You're still not recovered from what the careless fool did to you—and you'll have some nasty scars to show for it, by the way. But I will instruct you." He didn't know what to expect from her words. He wasn't quite sure if he should believe them. Patroness Morgena could be ruthless. After their first talk she had gone to what was jokingly referred to as "The Hen House"—the building where her female employees and women who wished to be bred were housed. Secondary hadn't been told how, but in less than half a day the patroness identified the woman who had beaten him. Martine's wails had been heard all over the house before the pets had marched her away. They'd been ordered to dump her belongings into the bush outside ranch boundaries. Tenderly, the patroness ran her finger down his spine. Secondary trembled as the finger slowly came to rest near the base of his back. "Have you ever had a man's penis in you?" "Sometimes, patroness. When Mistress Arness bids us to join her that way."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
65
"How did you like it?" Secondary wasn't sure what to say. Would she think he craved men? He didn't, not really, but— "Speak, pet." "It felt good, Patroness. Tight." "Have you ever had such sex except when your mistress bid you?" "No." Not that he hadn't toyed with the idea once or twice. But he knew Primary had no interest in doing so outside of their threesome sex play. He didn't have the units or the courage to approach any male in town and Secondary wasn't going to use an unpredictable capture. "But you wanted to. I can tell. Relax, Secondary." The finger went further down, rested on the opening of his anus. Secondary forgot to breath as she began to slowly circle the hole. "There are new sensations to be had here, too, pet. If you're careful. Nothing is to go inside unless you've been well greased and protected. Is that understood?" "Yes, Patroness." Primary had told him so long ago. He braced, legs apart, for what would happen next. A finger, gloved and lubricated, began to slip inside. Secondary reminded himself there would be some pressure. It slipped in deeper and he could feel himself begin to sweat. Too slow. He needed more— The finger found the small bump inside and began to circle it. Secondary jerked hard. Once or twice Primary had found that same area by accident but this—oh, Goddess, the motion was deliberate and overwhelming. "Ahh!" Secondary gasped. The finger withdrew itself slowly at the sound. "Did I not say you would speak only when spoken to? Maintain silence, pet. Concentrate." He was ready to weep at the finger's absence but knew better than to make anymore sound. He concentrated. He could hear sounds that he was unable to identify. Clicking sounds. The roughness of the blindfold made him itchy but he kept his hands holding the sides of the chair. He next felt something cold and metallic pressing at his ass cheeks. Goddess, what now? It was bigger than a finger, certainly, though not quite as large as a cock. There was more pressure. Secondary bit his lip to keep from crying out as it was inserted inside him and slowly, slowly pushed in. He jumped as it suddenly
Treva Harte
The Wildling
66
began to quiver inside him. "Do you like that, pet?" "Y-yesss." He was almost sure of that, though the feeling was new. "Then follow me." He grasped the hand and gingerly walked forward, learning to accept the new tingling sensation inside his ass. "Lie back." He eased his back onto the bed, gradually feeling his way onto it until he lay sprawled out over the mattress. The thing inside him kept up an intermittent vibrating. He didn't know when it would start or stop but it was driving him mad. "Aren't you a sight?" Patroness Morgena's voice sounded amused—and lustful. "That cock of yours looks ready to jump. The noose is taking care of that, though." "May I be permitted to touch myself?" Secondary tried to keep his voice steady, but he knew it wasn't. "Not your cock or your balls." "Yes, Patroness." She'd made that clear from the start. Instead he twisted his nipple ring hard. "You enjoyed having that ring done, didn't you?" "Yes." "You'd probably want a nipple clamp for the other but I promised no pain— not even a little—today." He didn't know what a nipple clamp felt like, but he nodded, beyond speech. "One more test, pet, and we'll be finished." Secondary knew without the noose he probably would have been finished before this. He continued to twist the ring and pinch at his other nipple, beyond shame or fear now. His hips rose and fell as the instrument inside him continued its work. The sensation in his cock, strong, powerful, far too slow, kept building. Whatever the patroness did next, as long as it was quick, he knew he would welcome. Suddenly the vibration inside stopped. Now what? Secondary forced himself to lie quietly while the patroness stretched his legs out further apart. He almost lurched off, however, when he felt the first tickling of a bird feather on his thighs. Hurt? No, it didn't hurt. But the gentle, teasing caresses of the feather made him squirm and twist, then jerk and spasm as they reached his sensitized nipples, then down his body to his balls and penis. He wondered if he might die from the sensations. Layer upon layer. The tight noose felt almost too tight. "Now, pet? What do you want?" "Please, patroness! I beg—” The fingers reached, stroked his balls. He could
Treva Harte
The Wildling
67
feel the two sacs pulsing. The blood was rushing but could go no further. Heedless of his injuries, Secondary raised his hips, slammed them down against the bed. That gave no relief as the hands continued to stroke. Desperate, he turned to bite into the sheets next to him Then the hand released his noose. Released all the pent-up cum inside him. The rush of semen almost hurt as he began to spurt. Hurt beautifully. Hurt delightfully. Didn't truly hurt at all. Secondary finally allowed himself to sob in ecstasy. The blindfold came off and Secondary blinked his eyes open. Morgena looked down at him with a half-smile. "Thank you, Patroness." Secondary managed to mouth the words. "Well, pet, what have you learned?" She rolled him over, gradually sliding her delightful instrument out of his ass. "That you are a wonderful taskmistress." "You didn't realize that before? Flattering, pet, but not my point here." "Instruct me, Patroness." "You are not a mere pain-pleasurer, Secondary. You crave sensation. Almost any sensation will do. I'll wager that if I had fetched some ice from the spring house and placed it on you would have reacted almost as strongly as if I laid my quirt into you." Morgena dropped her accessories into a bag. "Cold. Gentle. Rough. You must discover the various sensations that please you best. When one is not appropriate to a particular situation or time will not permit, use a safer method. Pain can be a very interesting delight, but it should be only one of your many options." Secondary nodded. "Yes, Patroness." "I expect Primary to return home with your mistress soon. My newest, Garic, will return also. I sent him away partly because he's still too new to take kindly to another in my bed. I doubt your Mistress would approve of our lesson at first either." "I shan't be allowed back then, Patroness?" Secondary knew he sounded bereft. He felt bereft. He was on the brink of discovering more about pleasure than he'd ever known and it would be snatched from him. "Not immediately." "But I've done nothing for you!" Now he was horrified. A pet never took sex without a lavish return. That was a pet's duty and privilege. "You're still too new at this. I doubt you have the self-control to manage what I want without breaking your monogamy leash. Yet." Morgena smiled wickedly at him. " I have many pets to help me."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
68
"But—" "Many clever, agile pets who are not currently physically impaired to help me. Go clean yourself up, boy."
***** “Primary!” Martine gave a full-throated shriek. The two men stared at the unexpected sight of a furious woman with, unfortunately, a voice that carried throughout the camp. Primary didn’t look at Adan. Both of them knew the charade would be over with Martine’s next sentence. What kind of seven-cursed bad luck had made the ranch woman wind up with Merdeath? He glanced over, involuntarily. At least Arness was gone. One yelped, long and loud, before he got to his feet. Then he ran. Primary silently thanked him. Who would have thought a capture had that much sense? He was following the plan without the signal being given to him. “Hey! Why are you running?” Adan called and sped after the already disappearing One. Primary didn’t stay long enough to grunt. Martine’s screaming explanations rang in their ears as they sprinted into the dark. “They aren't chasing him…Her pet!…And Morgena’s!…You fools!”
***** Thuds of booted feet could be heard next. Large numbers of thuds. "Merdeath—" Arness hissed, crouching down in a fighter stance. The first man came close enough to view. One, with blood over one eyebrow, was running so fast his feet scarcely touched the ground. "No." The female's voice was suddenly coated with satisfaction. "Let's go." "But—" "Everything is working. Come! We're all the bait." Arness found herself at the small woman's heels. Arness could have outrun her in seconds, if she had some idea where to go. Her ignorance galled her. Arness was a leader, Goddess take it. She made plans, not followed blindly. The irritation didn't abate even when Adan and Primary drew up from behind and settled into a steady pace next to her. When they drew up to a large irregular rock formation, Arness understood as well as if someone had stopped to map it out for her. Where else could a successful ambush occur in this mostly flat land?
Treva Harte
The Wildling
69
"Mistress Arness!" A pet called from a rock above. "Shh!" the other woman hissed. "They're coming." She turned to shove Arness behind a rock—or would have if the woman's slight strength hadn't been so negligible. Arness resisted for a half-second but, because it was the prudent thing to do, Arness settled behind the stony barrier. She wished she had her darts, even a whip. A knife was far less useful in an ambush like this. She searched for some sharp throwing stones as Adan and Primary crouched nearby. Their close presence was reassuring until it occurred to her that they had weapons and she didn't. Did they presume to think they were guarding her? She couldn't even snap at them. Furious, adrenaline rushing, gripping her tiny dagger as if it would truly be of some use, Arness waited silently with the others.
***** "Do you need more?" Dorinda paused near the end of the line. "No false bragging here. The patroness won't appreciate it." "No, Mistress. We're fine." The lineup of naked men chorused dutifully. Dorinda surveyed the three who were still standing in the hall, almost dancing from one impatient foot to another. A loud groan reverberated through the hall. Everyone's heads turned. The bedroom door creaked open. The pet who came out, naked, sweating and limp, made Dorinda's eyes narrow. The next man hurried in, hastily giving his hard-on another swipe with his hand. The two remaining in line eyed the slumping pet and then eyed each other’s erections. "The patroness is in a mood today." Dorinda sniggered. "I'll fetch up one or two more of you, just in case. I knew all that monogamy would make her cut loose eventually. I told her." Loud yelping could be heard in the bedroom. The next man in line swallowed hard. "Vibrators," Dorinda muttered. "She never listens."
***** "You were brilliant!" Arness reached both hands to clasp Adan's and Primary's. "Both of you." Primary bowed his head in modest acknowledgment but not quickly enough to hide his grin. Adan merely grinned back without the modesty. "Yes, we were. Strong and resourceful, too," Adan said.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
70
Arness slapped his butt. "Let's not overstep, shall we?" she asked. "Remember we routed them but they're still around. Merdeath is nasty. I never knew a male could be so calculating." "Men are not the fools you females say we are." Adan sounded like he was remembering his old grievances now that the victory's thrill was fading. "Why shouldn't he be clever?" "He's also cruel and as physically violent as females say all pets are if not controlled." Arness placed a borrowed whip into her belt, happy to have the familiar weight back. "He has to be eliminated. Besides my capture, he took all the units I received for Two's trade. He owes me a great deal that I absolutely intend to collect." "You intend to eliminate him then?" the woman named Salla asked, rather sourly. "I'd have a care. He bushwhacked you, remember?" Other than being small, she was nothing like Morgena. The daughter was blonde, citified and had a chip on her shoulder. For the mother's sake, Arness bit back a hasty answer. Arness reminded herself that she had just been handling the woman's pet rather familiarly. A little sourness might be expected. "I'll have a talk with the patroness," Arness said. "I'm sure she'll be interested in tracking down Merdeath and the remains of his group." Salla stood aside, watching Primary, Adan and Arness smile at each other. Salla knew she couldn't be more different from Arness if she'd tried. Arness was dark-skinned, tall, strong, easily demanding and receiving command of the pets. She probably never read a book. Not that Arness didn't seem intelligent. But her intelligence would discount Salla's knowledge. Just the way Morgena did. In fact, Arness would have made Mama a better daughter than Salla. They were much more alike. Salla watched Arness hug Primary exuberantly. The other men crowded around, laughing, seeking attention and approval. They wanted Arness to touch them, to order them about. All of them. "The ambush was my idea, you know," Salla whispered softly, so no one else could hear.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
71
CHAPTER EIGHT "Creek!" Garic called. All of them began to walk a little faster. The heat had been punishing after the exertion of attacking the bushwhackers and tending to wounds. Everyone was thirsty. Arness took her hat off, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and glanced back. Salla was the last, of course, hanging her head, trailing behind even the ones who had bandages on their legs. Arness did some quick addition to make sure all were accounted for. He was still there. Adan was at the head of line, striding steadily next to Primary, sunlight glinting off his hair. Perhaps there was hope for him after all. This wasn't the training she'd envisioned, but he seemed to be accepting life as a pet. That was just as well. At the moment she wasn't sure she had the heart to do more. The sparkle of the water made everyone smile and forget their long trek. The men jumped in as fast as they could, some bothering to shed clothing first, others not waiting even that long. Arness smiled as she watched them cavort. The only one who didn't seem happy was Mistress Salla. She stuck her feet into the creek but stood apart from the others, watching with a down-turned mouth. Arness shrugged. That was nothing new. The woman always looked sour. Arness stripped and plunged into the creek at its bend. She could have jumped in with the men but she had no desire to deal with male lust today. She was too hot and tired. Too confused, as well. The coldness of the water was a shock, but a good one. Her body was still strong, still as supple as ever, but she'd grown to almost dislike it. She'd felt dirty for days now. The frigid temperature and the water would wipe away the last remnants of that time with Merdeath. The disgusting smell of him, the humiliation of— Arness felt a lurch in her stomach and fought her queasiness. "Ar—Mistress?" Wonderful. She would have to talk to Adan, of all pets, while she had her hands clapped over her mouth, fighting the heaves. "You're ill?" The voice held concern. The splash warned her the male was in the water. She looked up. All uneasiness was forgotten. Adan was naked She stared. Goddess, she couldn't stop staring… He was naked and he was walking toward her. His muscles rippled. His wet skin gleamed almost as enticingly as if he were a new capture, oiled and ready to show how well he could pleasure his new mistress.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
72
She'd tried to be professional. She'd tried to make her actions that of a trainer and not a woman who simply lusted. Now she silently admitted her glances and touches had never been just professional. He was in the shallow water near her now. She could see he was hard. Hard and no longer concealing how he reacted to her. But he was doing what any male wildling or pet would do if they saw a naked female. She was his trainer. She needed calm. She needed control. Within seconds his arms held her strongly as he began to haul her to shore. "Let me go." Arness spoke very deliberately. Then she realized she had begun to shake. This wasn't calm. This wasn't lust. She was afraid. Overwhelmingly afraid. Her stomach roiled. "I can't." He gripped her wrists to hold her up. Strong wrists that wouldn't let her go. She used her hands to sweep down hard, suddenly, effectively breaking his hold. Nausea was gone as her adrenaline surged. She was ready to fight—until she saw Adan's face. He wasn't the enemy. "I'm sorry. I'm not myself right now." Arness made her own way back to shore, no longer enjoying the water. She hesitated at getting out. He'd see her naked. Exposed. "Arness?" One hand reached to grasp her shoulder then hastily dropped away. "What happened to you?" Arness looked down, quickly. Nothing showed. There weren't any marks that Arness could see. Why was Adan watching her, eyes narrowed, as if he could see inside? His lips thinned. "The bastard. How bad was it?" She didn't know how, but he could tell. Could everyone? Arness made sure her voice was steady when she answered. She didn't want anyone to realize just how deeply she felt. "I wasn't raped." She'd heard old wives' tales of such things, long ago. Now she believed it could happen. "Merdeath made me. He said he was waiting for me to beg to fuck him. I would have, I think. Eventually. I probably would have done anything to end his attention. It might've been better than the things he did—the things he had his followers do—instead." Her stomach lurched again. She could still hear the laughter as the crowd gathered to see the sport. Merdeath was inventive. Disgusting. Before she became lost in her misery, she stopped, stunned, at the look in Adan's eyes. She'd never seen blue eyes turn icy hot. Arness took a step back, actually afraid of the look on his face. "What?" Arness gasped.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
73
"I was thinking of ways to take the bastard's balls off slowly without killing him." Pets didn't say things like that. They didn't glare into their trainer's eyes, either, fists clenching. New realization seeped into her. He'd been right all along. Adan wasn't a pet. He never would be. If he had complied with her, she'd never have been so fascinated with him. She wanted a man. Thank Goddess he'd been strong enough to refuse her training. But if he wasn't a pet, what about the others? Oh, no. What had she done to them? Insight scalded her. Hadn't her training been just a kinder, subtler method of breaking them, the way Merdeath had promised to break her? She'd put her hands on them, used the promise of sex to make them agree, to submit. She'd been sure they enjoyed it, but maybe she'd been wrong. There had been times, not often, but times when she'd had to use her whip to subdue a pet. Goddess. She'd always been so proud of her ability to make pets out of captures. Slaves out of men. This time she couldn't hold back. She emptied her stomach on the ground. The moment she was done, she felt Adan's cupped hands at her mouth. She swallowed the water he held, rinsed her mouth, and this time she didn't resist when his arms held her, her back braced against his body. Arness struggled to regain composure, to make sense of her thoughts. No. That had to be untrue. I couldn't be so terribly wrong about an entire species. I'm not the only one who knows about pets. All the women around me are proud of our superior ability to think. All of us couldn't be so mistaken. Adan must be the exception, not the rule about males. But what if there were other exceptions? What then? "What am I going to do?" Arness heard herself ask. She wasn't used to that question. One way or another, she'd always known what to do before this. She would have called that practical or resourceful a few days ago. Now she wondered if she'd just been thoughtless. If there was just a chance, the slightest chance that there were other men out there—thinking men, human beings who didn't need a woman's guidance— what she had been doing was enslaving them. The Goddess couldn't have been cruel enough to give her the talent to do something so evil. No. Arness wasn't her usual self. That was it. Merdeath had made her doubt herself and her abilities; he'd planted false ideas in her mind. "What do you mean?" Adan was stroking her head, his fingers twining against the thick curls at her forehead. It felt good. Soothing. Comforting. Sensual. She hadn't realized her head hurt until he eased the tension.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
74
Adan was special. He was caring for her even though he was enslaved, surrounded by those who would chase him down if he escaped. If he had run just a few days ago she would have helped capture him herself. It didn't matter if her new idea was true or false. Arness couldn't shake the horror of what she might have done to others like Adan. "I can't catch or train pets anymore. That's too much like what Merdeath did to me. I may have used seduction while he used force. Both are wrong." "He was evil. You're not." Shouldn't he be triumphant at winning his point? Not that she was agreeing he was totally right, of course. But to concede anything to a male should have made him smug. Adan was arrogant enough anyhow. Instead Adan sounded concerned. His concern kept her from being angry. That was why she said exactly what she was thinking, unsure though she was. "I don't want to argue. All I know is that just the idea of capturing wildlings suddenly makes me ill." "I won't argue, Arness." "But now I have another problem. If I'm not a trader or a trainer, who am I? That's always been who I am. Was. I feel a little lost. What do I do next?" His hands moved to the back of her neck, where her nerve endings quivered at his touch. The soothing part of his touch was lost in sensuality. Did she want that? She wasn't sure what to think or feel. "You're wondering what to do next? I know. Make love with me." He whispered the words against the pulse of her throat. She jerked under his hands. That was unexpected. Not what she'd been thinking right now. Or perhaps she had been. Arness could feel a strange twist of lust and fear inside. Though his hands caressed her now, they were strong, powerful hands. The power they held tempted her. The power they held terrified her. "I'm not sure I can do that, either," Arness whispered back. "Merdeath made me feel so demeaned. I serviced him. With my mouth. With my hands. I'd never been forced to do that with a man before." "Arness, beloved—" "He had the women use my ass. I was never hurt before when I had sex. I—” Her stomach knotted. His hand went over her abdomen, protectively pressing, knowing what was happening without her saying so. "Arness, I didn't say I wanted to have sex. I didn't say I wanted you to service me. I want us to make love. I dreamed of that while I waited for you to show up in my cell at the ranch. I loved it when you touched me, even while I told myself I wouldn't respond. I wouldn't tell you, not when you thought
Treva Harte
The Wildling
75
yourself my superior. But now—" "Now?" "There'd be no force. No seduction. We'd be free to give each other whatever we chose. Unless you want me to seduce you. Just a little. To let you discover what a man can do when he's in love and allowed to show it." He wasn't forcing anything. Arness could feel the swell of his erection, tight against the hollow between her buttocks. He wasn't forcing, but he wasn't hiding how hard he was, how much he wanted her. She couldn’t think. Her legs felt weak. Arness shut her eyes to avoid the temptation of seeing him, erect and ready to give himself to her. Only then could she force words out of her dry throat. "But…a trader shouldn't have complete sexual intercourse with a wildling. It could ruin the merchandise, interfere with training…you don't know if the captures are healthy—" Idiot! Arness stopped. She let out a deep breath. "I'm not a trader anymore." "I'm not merchandise anymore. Not to you." His voice sounded rich with satisfaction. "That's why we can make love. Please." He'd said please. But he wasn't begging. He was offering. Adan's hands ran up her body, to her breasts. Her nipples swelled and hardened under his fingertips. The fear was washing away, a little. The lust was starting to roll in. Arness let herself sag against his body, to absorb the strength there. His hands probed, but softly. They wanted her pleasure. She wanted him to give her pleasure. More and more pleasure. She understood how to relax when trust and pleasure combined. She'd trusted other men. Primary used his strength for her enjoyment. Adan’s gentle hands suddenly squeezed one nipple, hard enough to make her let out a huff of air. Arness stirred under his hands. This wasn't Primary. Primary would never dream of not being with her. Adan was here because he chose to be. That was why what Adan did—what she and Adan did together—was a different. A little riskier. She was safe with Primary. She was reckless with Adan. Goddess, she was getting hot. The heat crept up from her breasts, from her cunt. She wanted sex. Reckless, hot sex. His tongue licked the very outer tip of her ear. Her toes curled with delight. Adan grasped her nipple and she could feel her insides tighten at his touch. She pushed her breast further into his hand. He made a pleased noise, deep in his throat. Something about this still seemed wrong but when Adan moved her back, thigh deep into the water, she followed willingly. Arness knew she was now more excited than afraid. Curious. Expectant. She felt the water lapping almost,
Treva Harte
The Wildling
76
not quite, where she wanted attention. Thigh deep. Near Adan. She waited for Adan to make his next move. What did men do when they weren't treated like pets? "I wouldn't let myself act like this before, Mistress." Adan turned to suckle one breast, very thoroughly. The excitement began to tug at her again, sensation moving from breast to clit in an almost fiery line. He raised his head. "But I want to worship you." When he got on his knees, Arness stunned herself by letting out a whimper. Other men had kneeled to her. But they weren't Adan. She looked at the strong column of his neck, bowed below her, at the hair that swirled in the water, twining around her hips and legs. This was a conquest. He leaned forward but instead of the touch of his mouth or lips, he nipped her inner thigh. She yelped and felt herself begin to dampen anyhow. Adan looked up, with his lips smiling sweetly and his eyes gleaming far less innocently. They both knew he wasn’t conquered yet. "Then I want to shatter you," he added, conversationally. She moaned.
***** “Our time is over,” Tanja repeated the words. “Right. You know we paid for the shortest time available.” Nara stretched. “I had a great rest. Some good sex. I feel really relaxed. It was the most perfect weekend.” “Over.” “Tanja! Where are your wits, girl?” Nara stared at her. “Over. Done. We have to go and settle up the bill and be on our way back. I’ll admit I thought your choice of a stud was a little crazy, but that pet sure had stamina. He even gave me a thrill or two, although he was really focused on you this whole weekend." "I'm sorry—" Tanja blushed. She'd forgotten Nara was even supposed to be there by the end. "Don't be. Some of the other available pets on the ranch were more than happy to give me some additional attention when you two were a bit too involved." "I'll find a way to pay you back your share of the weekend—" "Forget it, Tanja. It was a fine weekend. I’m impressed. Really I am. If this is what their novices are like I have to come back here if I ever decide to breed.” “Go ahead and pay Dorinda. I have to see Four.” “But—“ Nara shut up as she saw Tanja walk back to the Red Room. “The woman is bewitched. I never saw good cock hit anyone that hard.”
Treva Harte
The Wildling
77
She thought about the good fucks she’d had. Some really, really good fucks. No. None of them had made her feel the way Tanja looked right now. Tanja was dazed, completely out of it. Nara sighed. She’d have to be a good friend and be very kind to Tanja on the way home. It looked as though it might take a while for the girl to completely recover. The girl was actually acting as if a rented pet was important. That was truly weird. He was a pet! Not even one she owned. Then again maybe Tanja was breeding. She'd heard sometimes that made women a little crazy, even if it seemed a bit early to start. Nara shrugged. They were friends. She could put up with nine months of a crazy Tanja. She hoped.
***** "Why aren't you enjoying the creek, Mistress?" Salla looked up. He'd followed her. She couldn't help the surge of happiness before she remembered. Primary's beloved mistress was back. Ever since her return he'd remembered his damned monogamy leash only too well. There had been no more passionate exchanges. My word, there hadn't even been any of those maddening, sidelong glances. Nothing. "No reason." Salla held her ankles tightly and stared at the ripples of the water. If he hadn't arrived when he did, wading through the creek to her, the water would have been smooth and calm. Why was he disturbing things so? Primary didn't seek trouble. She was the one who pushed things. She was the one who had to keep seeking attention and change until there was no use in pushing anymore. Right now she was too exhausted and dispirited to try. She’d failed again. She hadn't proven herself on this expedition as she'd hoped—unless it was to prove she was the poorest traveler on her mother's ranch. Arness had taken over leadership of the group the moment she arrived. Salla had no more place in the scheme of things. "The coolness will refresh you, Mistress. If you join me." He held out a large hand, invitingly. She opened her mouth to refuse and found herself stretching out her hand instead. He hauled her to her feet and into the water with one tug. Why did she let him? Just a chance to touch him made her forget everything. She was disgusted with herself. She was disgusted with him. How dare he excite her one night and then ignore her the next day? "Where's your mistress?" Salla knew there was an edge in her tone. "Where's your pet?"
Treva Harte
The Wildling
78
If she didn't know Primary, she'd swear the same edge was in his voice. "I don't own a pet. Not even technically. Adan is my mother's. You, on the other hand, definitely have a mistress—" Salla stood as tall as she could but she was about chest high at best to him. She reached up and flicked his collar disdainfully. "I'm aware of that." Primary's voice was low. "Why else do you think I've kept away from you? Aside from having to deal with a rescue and ten other pets?" "Because you play by the rules. You make sure your mistress is served perfectly. Because I-I'm not what you need…" Salla's voice broke. She ducked her head down and swallowed. "I'm angry. I always cry when I'm angry." "Yes. I see." "She wants Adan, you know. Are you willing to share your Mistress Arness with a third pet?" "She wouldn't take on a third pet." Primary touched Salla's cheek and gathered one teardrop. "But I'm getting too old to be a personal pet." "What do you mean?" Salla stared. Primary was in prime physical condition. He exuded male power and strength. "Look at me. I'm getting gray. Most personal pets are retired by the time they're thirty. Thirty-five at the latest. They're past their physical peak." Primary smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. "I'll be too old for my mistress soon, just as I'm too old for you now." Salla thought. There were nothing but young, strong males hanging about Mama's house. "Retired? Where?" Primary shrugged. "Sometimes to work in fields or mines. If your mistress is especially generous, back to the bush to live in some freedom." "Arness would do that?" Salla knew she was goggling. "I don't know. I don't think so. She's loyal. Kind. But soon I'll be a liability to her." Primary touched the collar she had dismissed a few moments ago. "You could never be. Just as you'll never be too old. For anything!" Salla looked down at his leggings, which had begun to bulge. "See?" "I want you the way someone much younger might," Primary admitted. "But this is going to be wrong for you. Just as it's wrong for me." Salla licked her lips. "What if Mama gives me Adan?" "What if she does? You're both young. Enjoy yourselves." "That's not what I meant. What a disaster that would be! Arness wants him.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
79
Just like he wants her. He's not even looked at me. He's consumed by her and she's just as wild for him. You can feel it when they're near each other. Besides, I don't want him. I'm afraid another man caught my fancy first. You. What if I offer Adan as a trade for you?" Primary said nothing. My word, she'd botched that presentation. She'd thought about her scheme over and over, talking it out in her head, pondering how to lead up to the subject, wondering what Primary would say. Then she blurted it out the worst way possible. But she was terrified. Why would he want her? No one else in Aridzone did. No one anywhere did, really. "I—” He lifted her out of the water as he spoke, slid her against his tightening erection, slowly. She gasped and clutched her legs around his hips. "Perdition, you're beautiful." "Don't try to change the subject," she said, but ground herself against him anyhow. "I'd be jealous." The words hung there. Salla stopped moving. So did he, though his cock seemed to stay eager. Then he bent to nuzzle his face between her breasts. "Jealous and happy. It would be confusing." Salla pulled his face up to put her face close against his, close enough to feel that male stubble hair. She pressed her forehead against his. "I'm glad you'll admit you have some feelings. Some that even your mistress or I would rather you didn't." "You've corrupted me. I seem to have unbidden thoughts all the time now." Primary kissed her nose. He moved a little lower and bit her lower lip. "I think I'm enjoying your idea more than I'm hurting." Salla wasn't sure what to say. Instead she let her hands slide down between them and loosened his leggings. They both sighed as his cock was freed. My word, he certainly did want her. "I can stop the hurt," she offered. "You're still a virgin," Primary answered, indirectly. "I felt your barrier before." "Is that why you stopped when you did at the saloon?" "Ah—" he hesitated. "I may be a virgin, but I'm not stupid. I know you didn't climax." "You're not stupid. I never thought that. No, I didn't come. I had to use my hand later. Several times." Primary bucked a little, as she gently stretched his cock out with her own hand. "Don't be so gentle, Mistress—" "Salla. For Goddess' sake, call me Salla."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
80
"Not so gentle.” “Not so gentle, Salla. Say my name.” She paused. “Salla. Please. Pets—males—like it a little rougher than women do." "Show me. " She grasped his cock more firmly and saw how it leaped in her hand. Oh yes. He did like that. "Very well, but I won't—I can't—" "Go further than your leash allows." Salla sighed as she finished the sentence. "Understood. But we'll see what we can do now. I'll see what I can do to loosen your leash later. Fair deal?" Primary reached, combed the curls of her pubic hair with his one hand. She quivered as his fingers gave delightful little pulls, then returned to trace the small veins running up to her moons. Sensitized to his touch, she could feel every twitch of those fingers. "Fair deal." "Show me what you like, Primary. I want something to be for you." Salla could feel herself grow a little moist at just the thought. She was going to show Primary something he hadn't had before, even if he wouldn't take her virginity. "Show me your penis and tell me what it wants." "Is what my penis wants and what I want always the same?" Primary tried to laugh, but the sound cut off when her finger brushed the head, testing the little hole in its middle. A drop of fluid leaked out under her touch. "I don't know. Explain it to me." "Oh, perdition. Right now it is the same. I shouldn't let you do this." He shut his eyes anyway and let her tickle his swollen head again, the same way as before. More fluid seeped from his tiny cock hole. He sighed. "Salla." She gripped his penis with her hand, testing its strength and fragility. Males were much like their cocks. Hard. Easy to damage. A wonderful combination. Primary grunted under her touch. Salla decided to concentrate on making Primary feel very, very happy. Happy enough to forget being jealous.
***** "Relax." Arness lay quietly, her back in the water. She gave a sleepy smile. "I'm relaxed. How else could I float this way? Except that you've tormented me and not satisfied me." She still felt the burn inside her from when Adan had played on her clit with his tongue and then stopped when she began to shudder. "We have time. You aren't relaxed enough yet." "What do you mean?"
Treva Harte
The Wildling
81
"I mean you must be willing to let me do what I wish. To surrender and trust that I will satisfy you. Eventually." The water splashed as she struggled back to her feet. "Surrender?" Arness didn't like the sound of that word. He’d said he was in love with her. Why should she surrender? "And trust." Adan moved close enough to let her feel his cock. Close enough to have that cock push against one of her thighs. He was doing it again—tempting, offering. His body was such a temptation, too. "I trust you. For a while I thought I couldn't allow any man's hands on me again. But I want your hands on me." Arness licked her lips and was secretly thrilled when Adan's eyes fixed on the sight. No matter what he'd hidden before, he was clearly interested now and showing his interest. She waited. Nothing. Arness paused, wondering what happened next. She didn't want to order him to have sex with her. He was refusing to anticipate her wants. This was puzzling. She hadn't enticed him enough to make his own moves, yet he clearly wanted her as much as she did him. What was she supposed to do? She was running out of options. Surrender and trust. "Very well." Arness held her hands outstretched. "I surrender. I trust you. Now what?" A whirl of movement happened. Within a half-second, Arness found herself back on land again and flat on her back. They were close enough to the brook that an occasional slap of water hit her side as Adan lifted her legs over his shoulders. There she was, spread out before him. She liked this position. That is, she used to. But now she was very aware that she was vulnerable. Arness took a deep breath. He could mount her and enter deep. Too deep. He could hurt her. Relax. Trust. Surrender. Adan's fingers began to play against the area between her anus and vagina. Arness twitched. That hadn't been what she'd expected. But it felt good, delightfully good, to be fondled and licked there. She hadn't realized how sensitive her perineum was to the touch. Adan knew. He knew where nerve endings jangled, then soothed, then roused again as he tested what aroused and what comforted. She sobbed once, harshly, when he finally lowered his mouth to taste her clit, where she was slick and wet and needy. This time he didn't hold back. The burn he’d roused before had never completely left. She came, fast. Arness gasped, sucking hard for air. She hadn’t eased herself enough with such a fast climax.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
82
More. There should be more. He eased her back down to the ground. She tried to calm down. "There. Now come to me," Adan murmured to her. "Ride me." His tone was seductive. He didn’t need to seduce her. She was already wild for more sex. Arness found herself lowering her body onto his swollen penis, fast, her back to him. She bit her lip. She could ride and not look at her partner. As long as his cock was hard she could pleasure herself as she wished and not worry about his responses. Here was freedom. She had done this once or twice with other partners but rarely with Primary or Secondary. Primary liked to watch her responses to enhance them. Arness needed to watch Secondary or he got over-eager. But today this position was perfect. As private as sex with another could be. As Arness began to ride, she stroked her own clitoris. Adan's hands on her hips steadied her, but didn't hinder her. She set the pace, strong and deep. He followed her lead, his strokes hitting her in the spots she desired, the ones that made her squirm and clench. His cock was big and strong and clever. His cock was made to please her. She was back in command of herself and her mount. No. No, he wasn't an animal. He was her lover. She wouldn't forget who he was though she needn't look at his face. But, if she wanted, she could imagine him to be just another pet. Arness lost herself in a fantasy of taking on a new pet, one who anticipated new needs. She could feel the unfamiliarity of this cock, the eagerness because it was different. How long had it been since she'd had something strange? She'd tame this pet as thoroughly as the others, until he would leap to anticipate every sexual need she expressed. He'd service her eagerly, fight for her attention. His gaze would follow her, wanting her when they were apart. He’d grow restless in the night, reaching for her, longing for his turn at her bed. But she would choose the time and the way. Arness could feel the pull of her climax begin, hot and rising. "Not so fast, Mistress." His voice brought her back from her safe, familiar territory. He sounded confident. "You've relaxed now. So we can do things my way." Her fantasy shattered, Arness took a moment to recover. This time his fingers boldly tweaked her clitoris. She shuddered, near coming again. Goddess, he was strong. She wasn't light, but he easily lifted her up and deposited her on all fours on the ground. She couldn't see her lover's face still, but this time was different. She had no way of knowing when he would possess her. He decided, not her. It didn't take long for him to claim her. Adan entered her from behind, one
Treva Harte
The Wildling
83
hand between her legs, the other on one breast. Control had shifted to him so easily that she was a little dazed. She had been able to go deep while on top but now he could penetrate her deeply this new way, hit all the most exquisitely sensitive areas in her body. If he wished. Suddenly she wanted him to do just that. To command their responses. Excitement whipped into her. How could this be better than when she was on top? Adan made it better. When he squeezed her ass cheeks hard, she shook. When he nipped her shoulder, she fought to pull his cock in deeper. "Sweet Goddess!" Arness wailed. "Please, oh please, oh please—" He might not be the Goddess, but he was her master in this. When she was near to coming from his touch on her nipples and his weight inside her, he slowed the pace to a slow, measured half-thrust. This was wrong. He shouldn't do this. She shouldn't want him to do this. Everything she'd ever been taught screamed that you didn't let a male take advantage. But she could feel his cock, made slick from her own cream, slide a little further out and she grew frantic. More frantic than she could ever remember. "Fuck you, hurry!" Arness had never sworn at her sex partners. She'd never needed to. "Patience, love. Just a little longer." His voice comforted. Nothing else he did was comforting. His cock pulled out even further, just teasing at her entrance. But that was another exquisitely sensitive area for her. His movements there were torturingly sweet against her. Arness sobbed. That was another first. She didn't sob or cry. Not for pain, not for pleasure. Merdeath's cruelties hadn't made her weep. Adan's pleasures did. "Come, Mistress. Come now!" His voice cut through the sobs. She sucked in air, fighting to stop. He pushed hard again inside her, and she cried again. But she fought to obey his command even while she feared it. The first orgasm had been a short, sharp relief. She knew there would be nothing quick about this. Her lungs were already near bursting, as was her heart. Her body jerked as if a whip had been taken to it. His cock slammed into her. She couldn't hold out. But how could she give in? Goddess, she didn't want to feel both detached and on fire. What was holding her back from that final joy? It would be good, so good. An new, unknown pleasure waited for her if she could just give in. But she couldn't. He said, his voice shaking. "Sweet, come!" His cock slid into her. Urgent. Rough. Needy. Arness clenched herself around his rigid cock, her arms trembling as she forced herself to stay upright. "I love you, Arness!"
Treva Harte
The Wildling
84
With those words, she let go. The long, near-violent slide of Adan's cock, his hands at her hips to pull her as close as he could to him, his own panting and trembling, triggered her tumble into pleasure. She'd been wet before, but she could feel her wet gush of cream as she imagined how they looked while they fulfilled Adan's desire. Her orgasm was rich and hungry and long, far longer than anything she remembered before. She collapsed with a satisfied sigh after her last twitch of sensation ebbed. Suddenly her sleepy eyelids opened wide. She wasn't done yet. He wasn't done yet. Goddess, was he superhuman? She looked back to see the half-pained, halfecstatic tension in his face and knew he was close to climax but fighting it. Arness felt the tears drip down her face as Adan's hard cock continued to push her past her peak and onto another, still higher one. She had to follow him back into the whirlwind of sensation she'd just left. It was almost too much. Almost. Adan kept her pinned, her rear up and her shoulders down, as he made his final drive into her. He was faster, rougher now, his movements jerky rather than controlled. Their sweat made their bodies slide faster, slipping hard against each other with each thrust. She hissed, then screamed as she broke. She opened her eyes to see Adan sobbing a little. Almost the way she had. But he was still hard. "Come, then!" she invited. "No. It feels so good inside you. I want to keep on…” His voice was scratchy. Arness reached below and scratched his balls with her nails, very lightly and deliberately. He jerked as if she'd taken a brand to him. "No, Arness, I can't hold on like that! Please don't." She did it again and he moaned. Then she bit her lip and deliberately clenched as hard as she could, moving her hips in tight controlled circles against his hips. He gave a higher moan and then she could almost see the last of his control shred. He pounded hard into her, his eyes shut, his body shaking. He yipped something in manspeak, something he was too far gone to make coherent. Something she was too far gone to understand. Arness felt a triumph that almost made her climax again when Adan finally spurted fierce and long inside her and then, with a defeated sigh, collapsed. She sprawled under his weight, pleased by the feel of him on top of her. Dimly, through her dazed exhaustion, Arness tried to understand what had happened. Adan gauged her needs and met them. His voice hypnotized her. His hands guided and excited and satisfied her. Over and over. Goddess. He'd mastered her. She'd actually surrendered to his command.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
85
Once she accepted him, all she'd had to do was respond and enjoy. The slight fear of what he might do next had only added to the ultimate satisfaction. Another thought dawned through her sensual delight. What had happened was oddly familiar. This seduction was what she did to her captures. They came to her fearful but wanting and she taught them the delights of submitting to someone else's will. Adan had taken her lessons and used them on her. "You bastard," she whispered, meaning to be fierce but sounding drugged and pleased, even to herself. "Your bastard, Mistress. Everything I learned, I learned from you." "What do you mean—" She tried to fight sleep but yawned. "I was a lone male in the out-country before I was captured. All I knew of sex is what the men here said, especially about you. That and what I could imagine you wanting. You're my first woman. You'll be my only woman."
***** "You go. I go, too." Four looked at her like she was insane. "Miss Triss." "I'm not your mistress." No matter how much she wished she was. "I can't afford you. I'd never have been here if Nara hadn't taken pity on me and helped pay for you. I came here to make a baby with someone. With you." "A baby?" Four stared at her stomach. "I hope." Tanja remembered Dorinda's introduction to the ranch. "If I don't get one this time, they'll let me come back next month for a reduced rate." She'd come back. She might have to lie about her condition. Four had certainly put enough sperm in her to create a child. But baby or not, enough money or not, she'd come back next month. They probably would expect her to order a new pet for the weekend. But no one said she had to. She'd have Four all to herself next time. "Come back." Four nodded. "Come back soon." "Yes." Tanja pulled Four's hand to her stomach. "You'll be a father. I promise I'll take care of her. I always wanted a girl." "Girl baby?" Four made a slow circle of her stomach with the palm of her hand. "Not boy?" "Oh, Goddess. I hope not a boy." Tanja stopped her automatic response. A boy baby with Four's beautiful eyes. How gorgeous he'd be. Nonsense. She wanted a girl. What would she do with a boy baby? Raise it to be a pet? Sell it back to the ranch? The ranch promised to send any male babies back to the out-country, as soon as they were old enough, with one of their retirees to tend them. They'd even let a customer have a free turn at breeding if
Treva Harte
The Wildling
86
she had a male to return. At the time Tanja thought that was both fair and an excellent way to make sure wild males were still out there to tame in the future. Now it was different. What if her baby was hurt out in the wilds? What if he was captured and miserable? What if her little boy looked like Four was starting to look now? "Miss Triss and baby leave?" Leave me? She knew that was what he meant. His struggle for the words was almost physical. "Oh, Goddess." Why did she feel like this? She'd rented other pets just for pleasure and never worried. "Four, I'm poor. I make velocipedes in the city. Not even that, really. I'm just an apprentice. Someday I may own my own shop and then I could scrimp and save and buy you. But not for years." Especially not if every time I save something I come out to the ranch to rent you again. Wonderful. She could stop seeing Four for years or spend everything she had to see him now and then and never be able to be his mistress. She didn't even know how to explain that to him. "Four take care of baby. Help. Make velocipedes with Miss Triss. Good with hands." He held them out and tried to smile. They were shaking. So was his voice. "Don't." Tanja could feel a tear roll down her face. "Pliss. Don't leave." "I'll be back, Four. You have work to do here—" Goddess, would she be more torn apart if he did his breeding work well or refused to do it and got sent away? How would she ever find him? "You have to do your work. Breeding." Four stared at her. "No!" Then he lowered his eyes, his shoulders and legs shaking. "Forgive word. Miss Triss." "I'll be back. Soon. I promise." That was all Tanja could think to say. In a month he'd be used to being with all kinds of women and forget his first one. In a month she'd be absorbed in motherhood and her work and friends back in town. But she'd be back anyhow. She knew that.
***** "They like touch, too. Handle them a little more gently than my cock but— no, not so gently as that." The two of them bent over Primary's balls, each fascinated by the lessons the other one was giving. "Lover?" Salla watched Primary's cock jump at the word and ducked her head to hide her smugness. He liked the sound of that. "Are you comfortable?"
Treva Harte
The Wildling
87
"Surprisingly so." Salla looked at him, his legs sprawled open, his wrists bound behind his back. He looked amazingly seductive like that, deceptively helpless. Binding him was a brilliant idea, if she did say so herself. If he was tied up, she had to do all the work. She had to listen to what he wanted and respond since she wasn't sure what to do. Primary's silly notions of how pets must act couldn't resurface at the wrong moment. Her hand cupped his balls again, testing, squeezing. She bent her head to nuzzle her face against them. Male. This was male. She liked it. She liked testing the strong, pulsing vein that beat harder as she touched it. She liked how the balls began to draw back as she prodded and licked and sucked. "You won't get…near…to the limits of my leash before I blow, Salla. Not at this rate." Primary's voice was strained. "I thought I'd keep you safe from me this way. I didn't think about what you could do." "What does that mean?" "It means wait a minute. You're testing me too much." She'd done that to him. Already? "Then what would you like to test now?" Salla asked. Without waiting to hear, she clasped the root of his hardened cock, then slid her hand up, using her thumb to press under the sensitive spot he'd shown her— the one under the crown of his head. He sighed at her touch. "I—don't know. Everything you do feels good." He hauled in another gulp of air. Salla licked both male nipples for that remark. They tightened and he jumped under that wet caress as well. Salla felt all-powerful at the moment. Primary seemed to hold delightful responses to whatever she thought to do. My. The male body was fascinating and she wasn't sure what part she wanted to play with next. After some thought, she sat facing him, her mound to his cock. He felt so silky and so hard there. She could feel him swell a little more when she rubbed herself against his length. He looked into her eyes and she saw the mix of anticipation and wariness in his. "Careful." Primary cleared his throat. "I promised." Salla meant to keep her promise. But she was going to go as close as she could to the edges of her vow. They both knew that. "A covering," he said. "Just in case. Besides, my cock may feel less sensitive that way. Right now you are making every nerve in it jump for joy. We have to slow down." Salla pouted but unrolled the cock sheath and, following his instructions, slid it slowly on. She wiped the sweat beading Primary's face when she was done. "Are you all right, my lover?" she asked.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
88
"I think so. Now suck on it." There were no pleases or hesitations in him now. Salla bent her head. Since he'd said he was now less sensitive, she sucked on the tip of his cock immediately, nipping just slightly on the underside of the crown. His whole body arched up. "Blessed Goddess Mother!" It sounded almost like a prayer. "Once more like that and I'll spend. Tease me elsewhere." Salla moved to his feet. They were such big things. But when she tickled her finger against the instep of his foot, he whimpered and shook. His penis took on an amazing size. Salla's eyes widened. Her vaginal walls clenched. "You're impossible." Salla tried to scold instead of whimper herself. "Everything I do makes you want sex." "Right. I think we may have to just give in and have some." He managed to wiggle his erection. Really, the man had exquisite control over his body. Unless of course, he couldn’t help it. Either idea was intriguing. "Come here, Salla." When the first pellet of rain hit her hand she thought it was something else— it almost never rained in Aridzone. When the second hit her, Salla resisted the urge to curse. Why did the drought have to break just now? There was shouting in the distance. Primary's teeth bit into his lower lip. "We'll be missed. I don't want the others to see you—" "Not before this." Salla hadn't wanted to do things in such haste, but she had no choice. She ripped the cock sheath off and Primary yelped. Then she put her mouth to the velvety head and did her best to suck as much of him down as she could, cramming his male part into her mouth. "What—” Primary began and then moaned. She held her two hands hard and tight against his shaft, grasping just as Primary had told her, though her small hands couldn't quite cover the whole length of him. She squeezed and sucked harder yet. By the time the downpour had soaked through her vest, Primary had forgotten his initial restraint and was jolting frenziedly beneath her. She knew she had to hurry faster even before he began babbling. Fortunately she had learned his most sensitive spots. His teeth bared, his back arched as she grazed his reddened cock head with her teeth. The darling probably wouldn't care right now if they did have an audience. She paused a half-second at the novel idea. Primary spat out a word that made her return to business. By the time the others were calling his name, he'd groaned—a groan that seemed to come up from his chest—and given one last shudder. Then he stopped resting his weight on his elbows and sank back with a small, satisfied sigh. That was fascinating, too. After so much activity, his penis looked incapable of
Treva Harte
The Wildling
89
movement. She couldn't resist the temptation to brush the spent penis with her finger. Salla squatted back on her heels, rolled the liquid in her mouth as if it were wine, and cocked her head consideringly. "Hmm. It tastes rather like the sea." "This wasn't how—Goddess take it, I didn't mean for things to happen like that." "Like what?" "As if you were a cheap pleasure companion that a female had taken for a half hour quickie." He looked up at her and blinked as rain hit his face. "Not that I think of you that way." "I didn't think you did. Especially when you blessed me for my mouth. In what appeared to be civilized language and manspeak." Salla grinned. "Let me untie you. People will wonder otherwise." By the time Garic had arrived in the small grove they'd discovered, Primary was standing, leggings in place, hauling Salla up from the ground. "Miss Triss wants you!" Garic pointed behind him. "What?" The half-smile on Primary's face tightened into a line. "What is it?" "A—Dan. Gone again."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
90
CHAPTER NINE Above him, the steady scratch of her pen told him she was still doing accounts. When Secondary pulled, a little too roughly, at the pink and swollen nub under her skirts, he heard the pen thrown down. "Perdition, boy! When are you going to learn? I wanted a little something to relax me. Can't you keep your mind on your job here?" Secondary began to shiver. "Crawl on out." He crawled out from under the desk. The patroness sighed. "I was clumsy, Patroness." Secondary kept his eyes down, but couldn't prevent the next shiver. "Perdition. More punishment?" She pushed her chair back. "Let's have done with it, then." He unlaced the leggings and dropped them to his knees while he lay, face down, over her lap. His hard staff was already poking into her thigh. He kept from moving with a huge effort. The sharp sting from the paddle brought tears to his eyes. He turned his head, rested it against her hip and sighed. This was so perfect. So exactly what he needed on a rainy afternoon when there was nothing to do but play. "Patroness! They're here!" They both heard Dorinda's call from below. "Have done, boy. Don't worry. I'll talk to your mistress about you later." More tears came to Secondary's eyes as a lighter, dismissive swat hit him. His games were over. "Thank you, Patroness. For everything." He began to pull his leggings on as best he could over the stubborn swelling. "I unriddle more difficult problems than yours every day of the week, bucko." Morgena stood and put a friendly hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. She'll understand." "She's a good mistress," Secondary nodded. "I'd never want to hurt her." "Then come along and see that she's tended to." The woman already had opened the study door and headed away.
***** They were a muddy, bedraggled crew that came dripping to the front porch. Secondary searched the crowd and frowned. "Now the Mistress is gone and two more besides!" He spoke a little too loudly.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
91
The little blonde woman—the patroness' daughter—looked at him. Secondary took a step back and for a moment wondered if his balls had withered under her glare. "These men need baths. So do I. Alone." Her boots scattered mud on the carpet as she stalked across the hall. "Mother, I'll talk to you about this later." Morgena followed her daughter's exit with an impassive face. Then she turned to the men, crooked one finger and smiled. "Garic. What happened?" Garic thought for a moment. "We find Miss Triss. A-dan run. Miss Triss mad." He stopped, obviously wanting to say more but not having the vocabulary. "Mistress Arness was spitting mad!" Another small, reddish-blond man stepped forward excitedly. "I've never seen her that way. Ever. Primary took one look and went running after her down the trail. Sure hope he can keep her from killing that Adan once she gets the bastard." "She wouldn't even wait to tell you about the bushwhackers." Another one spoke up. "And then, Mistress Salla, she saw the two of them racing off and just marched us fast back to the ranch. I guess she's real upset about Adan being gone, too." Morgena sighed. "I can see that I'll need to talk to Salla immediately. Dorinda, get them fed and bathed." Secondary found himself alone in the hall. Should he go after his mistress? Probably. But where was she? He could be of help. He knew it. But once again he was an afterthought. Secondary scowled. He wasn't just a plaything. He could be as necessary as Primary was to his mistress, if she'd let him.
***** "Your investment is bound for the bush and most likely will never be seen again, Mama." Salla scrubbed the dirt out of her fingernails carefully, not looking up. "I'm sorry." "No. Somehow you don't sound sorry. Angry, maybe. Or sorry over something else." Morgena looked at her offspring. Salla placed the finger brush carefully on the side of the tub. "Want to tell me what and why?" "There's no point now. " Salla had nothing to trade. And nothing to trade for. Adan was gone. Primary was worse than gone. After all, his precious mistress needed him. Not that he'd bothered to even tell her that when he ran after Arness. Not a good-bye or take care or even a wave of his hand.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
92
Men were just stupid. They deserved to be pets. Ordered around like brutes and kicked out when they were past their physical prime. What else were they good for but sex? "Mama, I spent several years in school. Isn't it about time we made use of my training? I'd be happy to go over the ranch books for you or-or whatever you need." Why not? She could just take up where Mama left off, traipsing about with young studs and selling them for the right price. She'd see she made a tidy profit, too. "I could use the help. Salla—" "Yes?" "Whenever you want to tell me about what isn't bothering you right now, let me know." "Nothing is!" "You look like your father. Perdition, I'd almost forgotten about that obstinate look he'd get around his mouth." Her mother walked slowly away from the claw-foot tub. "Mama?" "Yes?" "Where's my father? I wasn't even sure you knew who he was." "Goddess, child! Of course I knew. I was very careful who I bred to. He was one of my first pleasure pets. My primary pet at the time. I named him Zak." Zak. That wasn't much to know about a parent. Then again, she'd never asked before. Most of the girls at school had no idea who their father was. It had never seemed important. "Is he retired?" "No." "Sold?" "He's dead, child. A clicksnake got him out in the bush a few months after you were born." "Oh." "I can take you to his grave, if you like. I put up a special marker for him." "I'd like that." Mama had taken a good deal of trouble for a dead pet. Even a primary one. "He thought you were the smartest, prettiest baby ever born, you know. Zak was the one who picked the name Salla for you." Morgena sniffed. Hard. "I was very fond of him." "My father got to pick the name? You always pick names." Salla had never known anyone but Morgena to name pets. Usually women called them things like One or Primary. Morgena claimed it was because she had
Treva Harte
The Wildling
93
too many to count, but Salla had seen the trouble Morgena took to pick just the right term for a man. Why not for her daughter? Morgena shrugged and cleared her throat. "Naming you meant a lot to him." Unless her father's pleasure had meant a great deal to Morgena. Salla would like to believe that. But could anyone truly matter much to Morgena? Her daughter had her doubts. "Mama…" "Yes?" "I'm sorry I'm a disappointment. I lost Adan. I was terrible on the trail. I-I seem to make the wrong choices about a lot of things. I'll try to do better." "Salla, you're my daughter. The only way you could disappoint me is to not try. Last time you were here you were a child. This time you're an adult and you need more time to see where you'll fit in." "Yes, but—" I don't fit in. I may never fit in. I'm not even sure I want to anymore. "I've been looking forward to having you here with me, to tell you the truth." Morgena looked over her head to stare hard at the wall. "It should be interesting having you around with all your new ideas. I intend for you to start learning to head the ranch, child." Why, Mama looked shy. As shy as Salla felt most of the time. As uncertain around her daughter as Salla was around her mother. The novel thought gave Salla courage to ask her next question. "Mama, did you miss me?" Salla ventured. Morgena looked surprised. "Of course. You're my daughter. I had to do what was best for you, get you educated and such. You always were too smart for your own good. But I wanted you back when the time came. I love you." Salla rubbed her nose to fight tears at the same moment Morgena rubbed hers. "I love you too, Mama," Salla gulped. The two of them stared at each other. Salla wasn't sure what to say next and neither was her mother. Funny. All these years she'd been sure Mama always knew what to do. "Well, you must excuse me. I have an eager young pet to attend to. One who hasn't seen me in a few days. He should be cleaned up and impatient by now." Her mother was gone before Salla could say anything more.
*****
Treva Harte
The Wildling
94
Salla blinked at the ranch account books, pounded the desk with her fist, and began to re-add the figures again. Finances weren't one of her favorite things to do at the best of times. Today wasn't the best of times. Why did Mama have to take her at her word? She'd dumped all the accounts on a desk as soon as Salla was done with her bath and left her to make sense of them. So far they didn't. A determined rap hit the door. "Yes?" Salla asked, hoping for something to save her from her calculations. A woman she didn't recognize stood at the door. She was thin and darkhaired and her jaw was set in a determined way. Salla braced herself for trouble because the woman looked like she expected to find some. "I need to talk to you," she spoke rapidly and then paused. "Oh. You're not the patroness." "I'm her daughter, Salla. Can I help you?" "Uh. No. I'm sorry." The woman looked deflated. "Do you know where the patroness is?" Salla grinned. "Yes, but she really doesn't want to be disturbed right now." "Oh. Well. Oh." "Is there anything I can do?" Salla asked the long-legged brunette. She looked more and more lost and Salla felt a bit sorry for her tumble from determination to disappointment. "Do you know if the ranch is hiring?" "Hiring what exactly?" "Mechanics. Or-or whatever there is. I'm pretty handy at fixing almost anything and I learn fast." The woman swallowed. She shoved her hands behind her back but not before Salla saw them shaking. She looked about Salla's age. Salla thought about what it would be like to leave school without her mother and the ranch to turn to. "You need work?" "Well, not exactly. I'm an apprentice velocipede-maker. I mean, I was. There isn't much call for that out here and I plan to work here." The woman straightened up. "Really, whatever work you need done, I'll do it. I'm not picky." "I don't know if we need anymore women on the ranch. But there may be some neighbors we can ask." "No! I mean, I want to work here." "Why?" Salla asked. The woman turned bright red. "For." She muttered the word to her shoes. "For what? That's what I'm asking." Salla let a little impatience into her voice. Sympathy wasn't getting her anywhere.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
95
"He can't leave here and I can't buy him and bring him with me. On my way back to town it finally hit me what the obvious solution was. I'll work here and earn him." Salla blinked, processed the rush of words, and then smiled. "He must be new if he has no name yet. I'll tell you what, mistress—" "Tanja. My name is Tanja." "I really don't know if we need people or not but Dorinda would. I also know that Dorinda's favorite vibrator broke a few days ago. If you fixed that for her, Dorinda might be grateful. Grateful enough to find a spot for you. She's in the kitchen right now." "I could do that." "Good luck to you then," Salla held out her hand, shook Mistress Tanja's. As the woman scurried away toward the kitchen, Salla sighed and went back to the account books. Some problems were easier to solve than others.
***** "Mistress, you'll kill yourself at this pace." Primary kept a long, even stride next to her. He wasn't breathing hard. She was, though. She'd forgotten to pace herself. Forgotten everything but hurt, rage and the need to hurry. "Yes. Curse him and the weather, too. I've lost him anyhow. Bastard." Arness slowed down but fingered her whip. "Wouldn't you know a storm would come up to ruin everything?" "He promised not to escape and I was fool enough to believe him…" Primary's voice trailed off. "No. He said he wouldn't run away at such at time. Then he gave his word to never abandon you to bushwhackers. I never thought about what would happen once you were safe." "Fine. He's not a liar. He's a quibbler with words. He's still a bastard." Arness stopped short. "I'm an idiot for trying to find him. He had a fine head start while I slept." "You're stopping, Mistress?" There was a stitch in her side. But the pain in her chest wasn't from her running. "Yes. Perdition take him. I have to tell the patroness about Merdeath. That's more important. I can pay Patroness Morgena for the loss of her pet." What will I do about my loss? And what will I do for money after this? I'm more and more sure I can't stomach trading anymore. "The patroness will understand. She's a good woman."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
96
"Yes. She is." Arness swallowed hard. She should have thought about her obligations to Morgena before this. Adan may not see himself as a pet, but Morgena did. Morgena had paid good units for him, had cared for him. Arness had broken faith with her. She should have seen Adan was freed before she had sex with him. That would have been the honorable thing to do. Not that she should have had sex with him at all. That would have been the smart thing to do. Impulsively, Arness reached out to touch Primary's cheek. "Primary, I'm glad you're here. You've been a constant in my life. I do love you dearly. I could never let you go." He wasn't Adan. Thank Goddess. He didn't mean danger, he wasn't going to leave when she closed her eyes. She was a fool to still want the deserting bastard. She was an even worse fool not to treasure Primary as he deserved. Perdition take her if she ever let him know he wasn't truly the primary male in her world. "I'm here for you, Mistress, for as long as you need me, however you need me. That's my duty and my privilege." Primary spoke the traditional pet's words with his eyes lowered. Safety. Primary stood for safety. Security. Why was she not entirely sure she wanted to have a pet's comfort anymore? Arness sighed. "Let's head for town then, Primary. I'm dripping wet and we might as well make an early day of it. We'll see how tomorrow goes when it arrives."
***** She heard the lightest scratching at the study door. "Come in." "Mistress?" The voice wasn't as brash as she remembered. "You're Arness' pet." The type of collar was like Primary's. "The other one." "Yes, Mistress." He didn't say anything else. Salla scratched the pen she was using against her cheek. He was pretty. As pretty as any of the pets Mama had on the ranch, though his hair was dark brown rather than blond. That was Primary's hair color, too. Perhaps Arness had a fondness for that shade. Perhaps she did, too. Perhaps any pet would do— No. He wasn’t Primary. Like it or not, she was picky. "Well?" Salla asked. She recalled that he was rarely quiet. Why was he staring at her?
Treva Harte
The Wildling
97
He lowered his eyes quickly. "I have a favor to ask, Mistress." "What?" What could she do to help a pet she barely knew? My word, she hoped he wasn’t thinking the same thing she had been a few moments ago. She’d have to refuse him. How embarrassing for them both. "I was hoping you could tell me exactly where you last left my mistress and Primary. What direction they were heading. What they took with them." "Oh! Because…" "Because I need to follow them. It's dangerous out there and they need me." "You? What help could you be?" "I know the bush." Secondary flung his head up as if insulted. "I can stand guard or fight as needed. They could probably use a dozen more men but no one else seems ready to go help." "The rain has washed away their tracks by now." "There are only a few logical places to stay anywhere near here. With the rain and their lack of equipment they won't go far." Secondary spoke like someone who had thought it all out several times. "I'm surprised they haven't come back sooner, to be truthful. What they're doing now is useless. Illogical." "And your mistress is never useless or illogical, is that it?" Salla asked. "Very rarely. When she is, she comes to her senses fast. I just hope bushwhackers don't get to them before she realizes what she should do." She wasn't going to let herself be terrified by Secondary's words. She was going to think. She wasn't going to run after a pet and a completely self-sufficient pet handler for no reason. She would simply stay here at the ranch and-and-wait. The only way you could disappoint me is to not try. I don't see that happening yet. Had she stopped trying too soon? When Primary ran after Arness, what should she have done? Something. This waiting was eating her from the inside out. Having Primary leave her made her angry enough, but his departure also meant he might never realize he was a man rather than a pet. That made her furious. Would he unthinkingly trot after Arness all his life, letting her make all the decisions? "At the very least I should've taken a knife to his balls," Salla said out loud. "He won't need them anymore, the way he's acting." She stopped talking when she saw Secondary's slightly stunned face. She couldn't stop thinking, though, once she'd begun. On one hand she'd be a fool to run off and try to find Primary and Arness. She'd probably only slow Secondary down if she insisted on coming along. Her gnawing need to act made her realize that one way or another, she was
Treva Harte
The Wildling
98
going to be a fool. "Desolation." "Mistress?" "That's where Primary took me the first night. Other than the ranch, I'll wager there is no other spot that would provide as much safety and shelter from the rain." "That's probably right," Secondary agreed, slowly. "You could buy supplies there, too, if you decided to stay out in the bush." "Then I believe we will make a visit to Desolation by nightfall." Salla threw the pen down. She might be able to buy one there, but she'd bring a sufficiently sharpened knife along. Just to be sure. If he’d forgotten her, Salla wasn't completely sure she wouldn’t use it on Primary's sex organs.
***** "Bastard. I've been spending quite a while now thinking about how to dice your balls up fine." "You may have gotten into the camp without anyone knowing but if you don't let me go, you'll never get out again." Merdeath spoke as carefully as anyone would with a knife blade at his throat. "I know my way around in the dark. No one will know I was here until tomorrow morning when they see the blood in your tent. But first I'm going to make you sweat. Do to you what you did to others." "Kill me if you want. My followers will catch you. They'll catch everyone in your precious group. Including the woman." "Your followers will scatter like a flock of birds do when a stone is thrown at them." "Are you sure? Kill me and they'll take revenge,” Merdeath said. The two men stared at each other. "Kill me, then run and keep running, capture. Because they'll come after you." "Blast it." Adan smiled. A feral smile. The knife slid down to Merdeath's testicles. "Then I guess I'll have to make sure that doesn't happen."
***** "I'm sorry." "Primary, it's not your fault." "Perhaps I am getting too old to be a personal pet." "Primary, stop."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
99
He sat, hunched over his knees, and Arness leaned over to pat his head. Primary jerked it away. She blinked. "I can make it up to you, Mistress." He rolled onto his knees and moved toward her. This time she shrank back. "No, really, it's all right. I'm not much in the mood tonight myself." Arness lied through her teeth. She wanted him to touch her. She craved the oblivion of a good sweaty fuck. But not if he wasn't interested. His cock was telling them both he definitely was not. What was wrong with her? Had she lost her magic with males? Now they fled or lost their erections at the thought of her. Primary's thumbs dug into her neck muscles with just the right pressure and care. "I'll relax you, Mistress," he said. "You'll be in the mood soon." She might have struggled but his fingers moved with the knowledge of hundreds, maybe thousands, of massages he had given to her. When he kissed her neck and punctuated the kisses with small nips, she sighed. "Mistress, when I'm too old for you, what will you do with me?" The question woke her from the almost dreamy state she had drifted into. She almost straightened up, but a particularly clever swipe of his thumb made her relax again. "Too old, Primary? Just because you aren't hard for one night doesn't mean I should retire you." "I'm thirty three, Mistress. Not exactly the best age for a personal pet." "I'm almost that age myself. " "Everyone knows women grow better with age. More virile, more sensual. Men just…wither." "You aren't withered, Primary. I have no intention of retiring you. How could I? You're part of my life." "Thank you, Mistress." The words sounded almost sad. "You're most kind." Arness decided to take action. She turned in his arms and put her own arms around him. They kissed, a slow promise of more to come. Arness bit his earlobe and Primary sucked in his breath. She knew how he enjoyed that. She knew his body as well as he knew hers. They'd explored both often enough. "You aren't too old yet, Primary." Arness chuckled a little, as her hand began to trace the gradual rise of his cock. "No need to worry about being past your best sex yet, old man."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
100
"Mistress—" He squirmed when she traced a finger under the crown of his cock, when she used her own nipples to touch and arouse his. Suddenly his resistance faded. He sighed as he said, "Yes, of course, I’m yours. As always. For you to do with as you wish." His cock swelled, hard as always for her. Arness was about to climb on him, her back turned to him, when she remembered the last time she'd done this. The man she'd done it with. Oh, how she wanted that particular man. The one who she'd never see again. Goddess take it, she could pretend, couldn't she? Arness firmed her jaw. She didn't even have to see an actual face while she used what cock was available. Primary sighed behind her. This wasn't just an available cock. This was Primary. She couldn't pretend he was someone else. That wouldn't be fair. The glowing desire she'd begun to stir left abruptly. Arness shivered. The air had turned cool now that the rain had cleared out some of the heat and the sun edged down. Even the stifling air of the saloon's rented rooms was chilled. That must be why she felt so cold now. "Perdition." Arness rubbed herself against Primary's now stiffly out-thrust erection, allowing herself a slow shimmy up and down. Perhaps the temperature wasn't the only reason for her chill. She could do anything she wanted with Primary. Anything. But that wasn't she wanted anymore. "Double perdition." She stopped and turned to face Primary. Laughed a little. "Now I don't think I can." "Mistress, what's wrong?" "Nothing. No more than what's wrong with you." Primary laughed, briefly. "May I hold you then, while we sleep?" "Gladly." His tight hold was almost as good as sex. "I expect our full recovery by tomorrow morning." They both knew about Primary's morning erections. "I expect so, too." Arness caught just a trace of doubt in his voice. Was he that concerned about his momentary failure? She rested her head on his chest and threw a leg over his thigh. "Goodnight, dearest Primary." She didn't remember she wasn't going to keep pets anymore until later, when she woke up and stared out the dirty window at the newly risen crimson moon, no longer finding comfort in Primary's body warmth. No capturing wildings. No more pets. No more Primary. The thought of so many changes was almost too much to bear. Arness gritted her teeth and vowed
Treva Harte
The Wildling
101
to bear them anyway. But at night, when happiness seemed so far away, it got difficult to remember why she must.
***** "Primary—” Arness remembered her vow when she awoke again shortly afterward, but Primary's hand was already running up her thigh. She gasped his name rather than begin the speech she'd rehearsed in her mind. Goddess, how was she supposed to remember what to say when she could feel that monster crowding between her ass cheeks? "I need to talk to you." She got out that much before two of Primary's fingers clasped her clit. Arness twitched a little. Calm. She just needed to get a few sentences out and then they could make a calm, rational decision. He turned her and began to suck on the tip of her tongue in the way only he had managed to perfect. "Later, please, Mistress, I beg. We needn't wait until morning. I ache now." His cock silently gave proof to his words as he pulled himself over her on the creaky rented bed. Arness found herself rubbing, sliding along that erection. Primary didn't usually take the male dominant position. The night's delay had obviously taken its toll on his patience. The very unusualness of what he was doing made Arness breath harder. This was closer to what she'd had in mind. He was bigger than her. Stronger. He could be in control. "Aren't you going to ask what I want, Primary?" she asked. "I know what it is, Mistress. Am I not your pet? You want what we both always want when we wake up." Primary sounded almost grim. There was definitely a desperate undertone to his voice. Arness smiled. The talk could wait. She did need this. A hard fuck with Primary would chase the last traces of a different man, a faithless male, from her mind.
***** He was going to do this. He had to do this. Nothing was different. Arness was still poetry in bed. He had woken up stiff and needy the way he always did. Arness was still his mistress—not because she bought him but because she cared for him. She owned him because he owed her everything in his life. Primary was going to have sex with her because he owed her that, too. If her breasts weren't the ones he wanted, they were still responsive to his tongue. They felt soft at first when he laved them, and then hard and stiff against his tongue.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
102
If this was a punishment for lusting after another woman, he'd accept it. Arness was beautiful. Differently beautiful than— No. He wasn't going to compare. Primary used the head of his cock to slowly probe the entrance to her vagina. She was sensitive there. If he'd thought perhaps Salla was right, back when they were together and he was a little crazy with lust, he'd been reminded of his place when Arness was in trouble. He might be just a pet, but Salla didn't understand his responsibilities. A pet gave loyalty when his mistress needed aid. A pet also had duties, one of the chief ones being to fuck when his mistress wanted to fuck. Perdition! Primary began to rub his balls, desperately. His mistress wanted a hard fuck after being awakened, not some half-limp pretense of a dick. Goddess curse him, he'd felt like he had a steel bar between his legs when he woke up. What was wrong with him? There'd been a time when he could have sex with several women, was expected to have sex with several women, all in one night… He'd woken his mistress before morning to show them both he was back to normal again, more than ready to service her. Now, by the Goddess, he'd show her he could perform his duties the way he always had. If he wanted more for himself, he was wrong. He couldn't blame Salla. She was young and had never been anyone's mistress yet. But Salla had confused and stirred him, got him thinking about what he wanted instead of what he was supposed to think. Females confused a man. A pet. He meant they confused a pet. All he was doing now was right and what he had to do. But why wouldn't his stupid body cooperate? "Let me." Arness' strong fingers began to stroke, just perfectly. Primary shut his eyes and waited for her to do her magic. He circled his penis against her while they waited. Arness quivered. Suddenly the door banged open. Primary registered that just as he felt something heavy thrown against his back. He yelled. What in the Goddess' name had been used as a weapon against him? Was Merdeath here? The table next to the bed fell over with a crash. He peered into the dark. A wine glass had ricocheted from his back to hit the table. Amazingly, the glass didn't shatter. Primary stared stupidly at the unbroken cup rolling on the floor. "You—you rakehell!" a furious voice screamed. He knew that voice. A lamp flared, lighting the room. He looked up into Salla's angry face. Her hair tumbled raggedly into her eyes. There was a welt on one shoulder from a needle bush. To be truthful, Salla smelled like mud and sweat. She was wet, dirty
Treva Harte
The Wildling
103
and definitely wrathful—not the angelic temptress of his recent fantasies. But as he leaped from the bed, he realized his disobedient cock had suddenly sprung to life, harder than he'd ever felt it before.
***** "You rakehell!" Everyone downstairs winced at the reverberating scream, followed by a loud crash. "Salla, I'm sorry!" a man's deep, panicked voice replied. Mistress Babs turned to the one man in the room who might know what was going on. "Is she as mad as she sounds?" "I'd say so." The pet shook his head. "Poor Primary. I'm usually the one who gets into trouble like this. Can I have some coffee?" "How bad a beating will that little woman give him?" one of the saloon boys asked, fearfully. "I don't know. He's not her pet." "…scoundrel!" "He ain't? The way she's taking on, you'd think she'd paid top unit for him!" Mistress Babs cocked her head. The door slammed shut. "Now I understand why she pushed so hard to get here, though," the pet said. "Wonder what my mistress will think of all this." "She ain't your mistress either?" the saloon boy squeaked. "Nope." "Rich folks sure are funny." Mistress Babs handed him the coffee. "Hey, wait! Who will pay for that coffee, pet?" "My name is Secondary, Mistress," the young man smiled charmingly and tilted the cup up. The saloon-keeper put one hand on the cup and scowled. She laid her hand on the walking stick she had laid on the bar. "Mistress Arness will pay," Secondary said, quickly. "She owns me and Primary." "The one upstairs already?" Mistress Babs began to grin. "Whoo-wee. This'll be one fun Saturday night."
***** She'd never heard Primary so panicked.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
104
"I bet you're sorry! I bet you're sorry I caught you now instead of later!" Arness watched the tiny fury sweep in and kick Primary in the shins. "Now, wait a minute!" Arness got to her knees, still aroused and annoyed as well. "I'll get to you in a moment," Salla snapped. "It's this scoundrel, this-this varlet that I need to take care of right now." Varlet? Arness opened her mouth and shut it again when she saw Primary slam the door and then throw his arms around Salla in a self-protective move that looked amazingly like an embrace. "How dare you have intercourse with her?" Salla's eyes were full of tears, even as she landed a kick very close to where she was aiming. "I didn't do anything!" "Liar!" "If I had, would I look like this right now?" Primary prodded her with an erection that, despite all his exertions, still hadn't deflated a bit since Salla had entered the room. "Apparently I can't control myself around you." Hmmmph. Arness narrowed her eyes. "How would I know?" Salla paused a moment anyhow. She said, a little less certainly, "You're a satyr." Arness wondered if she'd need to get a dictionary soon. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. This wasn't funny. She needed to take control here, remind this misguided woman who owned who. Oh. In that split second pause while she remembered what she didn't own anymore, Primary acted. Instead of gently deflecting Salla, as Arness had half expected, he did something quite different. Arness' mouth dropped open as he bent to give the young woman a punishing kiss. When the kiss didn't stop, Arness began to get a strange feeling in her stomach. Apparently everything in her world was changing. Even the most safe, secure part of it. Then anger hit her. A fierce, overwhelming temper. "Listen you-you clicksnake!" Arness pounded none too gently on Primary's shoulder. "What in perdition do you think you're doing?" Primary stopped his kiss and looked up, his eyes sleepy and a little dazed. As his eyes focused, his face gradually became more horrified. "I-I-" His voice broke. "Yes?" Salla crossed her arms and began to tap her foot. "Just what do you think you're doing, Primary? I thought you loved me."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
105
"I do, Salla." "And what about me?" Arness realized both her hands were clenched into fists. "I love you too, Mistress."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
106
CHAPTER TEN The reaction to his words was about what anyone should have expected. Arness let out a hiss at the same time Salla did. Primary took a step back from them, his eyes shifting from one to the other. "Forgive me, mistresses," he stuttered a little. "But I do. I'm your pet, Mistress Arness, and I swear I haven't slipped the monogamy leash. But I-I'm Salla's as well. She's claimed me. As her man." "She can't claim what she doesn't own!" Arness bellowed. "Neither can you!" Salla shrieked back. "I—" Arness slammed the heel of her hand into her thigh. Agreeing with the sour-faced wench was galling but necessary. "That's right. Primary isn't my pet. But I thought I wasn't just his mistress, either." "You're not just my—" Primary began hotly and then looked baffled. "You say I'm not your pet?" She'd meant that she wouldn't own any pets. But new insight came as she looked at the dawning pride in Primary's face. When had Primary ever been an ordinary pet? She'd taken pride in his abilities, but thought they reflected well on her training. What they'd reflected was Primary's strengths and her own blindness to them. Maybe neither she nor Primary had realized it, but in his way Primary was just as much a man—not a pet—as Adan. "Are you?" Arness smiled at him, suddenly. "N-no. No, I'm not." Primary's shoulders straightened. "It's as you and Salla say. I'm a man. No more than that. No less, either." "Yes. Well." Arness wasn't sure what to say or how to interpret the look on his face now. "That's the truth. I'm sorry it took me ten years to recognize it." "It took me thirty-three, M-Arness." Primary rubbed his hands over his unruly hair. They were all silent for a moment. "But…well, what does that mean? To you?" Primary asked her. "It means I can't own you. You'll stay with me only if you want to." The uncertainty over his decision, a feeling she'd never thought to have, began to bother her. Arness stepped forward. "I may not own you but I also don't share. You know that, Primary." "Yes." Primary looked at Salla. He looked at Arness. "I should stay away from you both." He said the words reluctantly.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
107
***** Salla chose not to answer Primary's assertion directly. Instead she leaned closer to him and let her hand slide down his chest to his cock. Primary sighed, audibly. She was still angry. Very, very angry. At Arness, even though she'd just given up her claim to the big idiot in front of her. At Primary, even though he could kiss her so beautifully. But her body was clamoring for Primary to touch her again. She'd pushed forward into the night and the rain and the mud just in the hope she'd find him here. Now she had to take a chance. "I think you shouldn't stay away. But prove it. Show how you're not up to taking me," Salla challenged him. "I'm in no condition to take a virgin right now. I'd be too rough." Arness cleared her throat. "Have you made up your mind who to take then, Primary?" "No." "Maybe I can help make up your mind. I can help your condition. After all, I’m not a virgin. I know what I'm doing." Primary took another step backward. Arness came closer, letting her fingers run from one tight buttock up to rest just under Primary's testicles. His cock jumped. Salla's anger, which had just started to slowly subside, shot up like a kettle with too much hot steam inside. Bitch! How dare Arness know how to touch him! How dare she go ahead and fondle him so expertly! Primary gulped. Salla's ignorance suddenly seemed too crushing to bear. Virgin. Ignorant virgin. Primary gave a resigned smile. He stretched out his hands, displaying his disarmed helplessness. "Ladies, whatever happens next, I'm going to get in trouble. Probably I deserve to be. But I don't know how to fight either of you, much less both of you. So I'm not fighting. Do your worst. Or your best." His cock stood straight, offering itself like a prize. "But remember I am a man. Not some trinket without feelings." Salla looked up from that cock, into Primary's face. He was so beautiful. All over. Salla licked her lips. Slowly it dawned on her that Arness was staring challengingly at her. Salla blushed. She was showing her own weakness. It must be obvious that even when she was angry enough to kill, she still yearned for a man who'd
Treva Harte
The Wildling
108
belonged to Arness for years. Yearned for him and had no idea what to do about it. What a fool she must look to them both! Anger disappeared and the tears that she'd covered over with anger suddenly threatened. Curse her if she'd actually cry in front of the two of them. She could admit defeat without blubbering. "I'm not going to fight anyone," Salla whispered. "There's nothing here I can fight anyhow if Primary won't choose between us. That's a choice in itself." "Salla, it's just that I'm—" Primary began. "Good-bye." Salla pushed the door open as quickly to leave as she had to enter.
***** "It's just that I'm bound to you as much as her, Arness." Primary finished his sentence. Arness almost reached out her hand to him, he looked so forlorn and confused. Then she realized she was comforting him over the loss of some other woman and kept her hand to herself. "Go on, Primary. Do you think you're bound to me still? You're not." Arness forced the words out of her mouth. Was that what he needed? Why was all this so difficult? Primary began to scramble into his leggings, cursed as he tangled them around his legs and then paused. "Arness—you matter, too. Very much indeed. I don't want you lonely." Primary was an idiot. A male idiot. Could anyone, even a man, really think that two women would believe they both mattered too much to leave alone? Well, if Primary thought she was that desperate, he was wrong. Arness stared at him and then smiled through gritted teeth. "Who said I’d be lonely? Go on, Primary. She's probably halfway to the ranch by now." Primary blew her a kiss. "I do love you, Arness. Really." He was pounding down the stairs a split second later. He left. He really was gone. Arness' chin quivered just like some soft, citified female who would be foolish enough to cry over a man.
***** Salla hesitated on the last step as she saw the curious eyes staring at her. For
Treva Harte
The Wildling
109
a moment she almost thought about going back up again. Nonsense. That would be even worse. She lifted her chin and called across the crowded saloon. "Secondary, take me back to the ranch." "Ah—" For once Secondary looked at a loss. "What about—" He shut up. "If you won't take me back, I'll go alone." "No, no, no. Don't do that. I-um-" Before he could untangle his sentence, the saloon doors swung open. Everyone turned to see the new arrival. He was tall, his blond hair dripping from the still pouring rain. He staggered a little as he pushed another bound man before him. "Adan!" Salla ran to him, ignoring the fact that they'd scarcely spoken two words to each other before. "Adan, you can take me home." "What?" Adan's usually intelligent face looked unusually blank. "Why're you and Secondary here?" Salla reached up her hands to his shoulders to shake the stupidity from that handsome face. "Never mind that. Take me back!" Desperately she said something she never thought she'd ever say. "I order you, pet!" The clatter on the stairs made Salla whirl to face her new threat. Primary had never looked more overwhelming as he did looming over her on the stairs, his hair rumpled and his leggings rolled down low at his hips. She could feel herself get a little moist at just the sight. Call her weak. "What do you want, varlet?" Salla hissed. She might be weak, but she wasn't easy. She didn't share any better than Arness did. "I told you she said var-let before," someone on the bar stool muttered, a little too loudly. Without a word, Primary stalked over to her, pulled her away from Adan and then punched Adan in the jaw. Adan staggered back and fell into the bar counter. "What?" Adan asked, plaintively and a little woozily. "What?" "You. I want you," Primary held out a hand to Salla. Salla punched him in the stomach. Her hand hurt from the blow. He didn't even twitch. Curse the man! Salla looked, saw nothing handy, and pulled off her muddy trail boot to hit him. She aimed it for Primary's face. He deflected it easily. Of course if Primary could knock a big man like Adan down, he was impervious to
Treva Harte
The Wildling
110
anything she could do. "Salla, don't." Primary took her by the shoulders. His voice trembled. "You're killing me." "What do you mean?" Salla asked. He sounded so sincere, so truly pained. "I can't stand for you to be this angry with me. I love you." "You love me and Arness and any other likely female who happens your way, you mean." Salla bared her teeth. "Why don't you go back to your hussy mistress and her bed? In fact, take Secondary along with you. I'm sure all three of you would have your usual good time." "You're the one fondling Adan!" "I was fondl-uh, that's right! After all, Mama bought him for me. He's my pet. I guess I can fondle him if I want!" Salla stamped her foot. She could learn to do more than like Adan with a bit of work. Why not? Everyone else thought he was perfect for her. Probably she could get used to owning a gorgeous pet. Why not take the easy way for once? Primary's fingers bit into her shoulders. "I can't let you go, Salla." She could see his jaw set. Salla braced herself for anything. She glared at him. Primary glared back. "I'll take care of you later, bastard. I'd do it now but there's something more important to take care of." Adan snarled the words behind them, fully back to his senses and looking angry enough to spark a fire. "What in perdition have you done with Arness?" He didn't wait for an answer but charged up the stairs, three at a time, leaving a trail of water and mud. Salla continued her attempt to stare Primary down. Primary didn't flinch. "If you force me, you'll be sorry," Salla warned. He winked at her instead. "I like how you've gotten rid of one shoe, darling. Let's see what else we can take off upstairs." Salla gaped at the change in tactics. Before she could recover, she was swung over his shoulder as if she hadn't issued any warning. Salla pounded hard on his back. Kicked his chest. "Huh." At least she got a grunt out of that. "Once you let me down, I'll make you sorry!" Salla growled. "Darling, I came to get you. I made a choice. Doesn't that count for something?" Primary asked as they made their way up the stairs. Salla's fists unclenched.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
111
"I—" Salla stopped. "Oh." She hadn't thought of his sudden appearance quite like that. "Now stop hitting me. We're going to do this properly." Primary paused for a moment at the top of the stairs. "As soon as I figure out where we're going."
***** "So he's taking her back to the other woman then?" Mistress Babs asked. "Looks like," one of her patrons answered. "Hmmm." "What is a var-let?" a bystander at the bar asked, plaintively. "Sounds like it means a really lucky man," the first woman said, paused and rethought. "Or a real idiot." "I'm just wondering what he means by doing things properly. Ain't seen nothing proper about this yet." Mistress Babs looked around. "Curse it all! Where is that Secondary?" "Maybe he's up in the bedroom, too, like the little gal suggested." Mistress Babs scowled and then asked, "And what are we going to do with the fellow that other one left on the floor?"
***** Arness sniffled hard and stood up. She ought to leave—but only a fool left in the middle of the night in the rain with bushwhackers about. "They'll have to find their own place to stay. This is my room," Arness said aloud. She drew the line at giving up her bed to let the two of them cavort in it. The door flung open again. Arness turned. "Prim-Secondary?" She goggled for a moment. "Why are you here—oh, never mind that! I'm so glad to see you!" He was young and strong and his face was twisted with worry. Worry over her? There was more to Secondary than she thought. Oh, Goddess. Why not admit the truth? Men were humans. All of them. More complicated, more contrary, more intelligent than she'd ever wanted to give them credit for. Now that she really knew and appreciated what men were like, she was about to be left without any. She flung herself into Secondary's arms and finally allowed herself to cry. "Mistress, oh, Mistress, don't," Secondary murmured. He began to pat her back. "I don't quite understand, but you know you'll always have me as your pet. I'm here for you."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
112
Pet. "No. No, I won't. I told Primary he wasn't my pet and now I'm telling you the same thing. You're free. Free to be a man, Secondary." Arness began to cry again. Secondary dropped his arms from her and gasped. In another moment he had fallen to his knees in front of her and begun to sob too. "What's wrong with me, Mistress? I know I displeased you before, but I'll do better! I promise!" He paused, snuffled a little and then hastily buried his head in between her legs. His muffled voice said, "Let me show you, Mistress. I'll make you scream with delight. I can do it." "Not with her you can't!" a new voice yelled through the open door.
***** "I'm not coming out!" Salla called. She knew she was an idiot. Who else would hide herself in a closet and then brace her legs against the door? "Salla, be reasonable!" On the other hand what other place did she have to hide? Primary had set her down in the hall once they both realized they had no room to go to. Salla hadn't hesitated to take her chance to escape. She'd run to the nearest open door, thrown herself inside and slammed it shut. It wasn't her fault it was a closet. Her breath came a little too fast. The manuscripts had described males when they were uncontrolled and angry. Maybe she read too much but she could imagine a ferociously angry Primary. He-he might do anything to her! Salla tried to ignore the naughty little tingle she got at the idea.
***** He was an idiot. You didn't run after females and demand they listen to you. He was lucky Salla had just run away instead of demanding his punishment. If he calmed down things would work much better. You deferred to a female, you didn't allow your own will to interfere with her desires. If he simply stayed reasonable— His fist hurt from pounding on the door. His head hurt with baffled rage. Everything he'd learned about control and obedience wasn't working this time. Because this wasn't a female with whom he could just meekly agree. This was Salla. His Salla. She was young and reckless and in love with him. He knew that. What he didn't know was how to behave himself if she recklessly left him in a youthful
Treva Harte
The Wildling
113
huff. He wasn't a pet. He'd told Arness that before but hadn't understood what happened once he accepted it as true. Now the realization was inescapable. He was a man and all his control was gone. Other emotions were sweeping over him. He-he had needs, too, perdition take him! Needs that Salla was heedlessly ignoring. Foolishly ignoring. He knew what they both needed and he was going to make her understand what they had to do next.
***** "I can't believe I refused a sane woman for you!" "You can always change your mind and go back to her then!" "Enough of this nonsense. Salla, stand away from the door." She heard the first rattling thump at the door. Salla hastily pulled her feet away just as Primary kicked it open. “I ought to spank you!” Primary growled. He paused as they stared at each other. “Oh.” Salla swallowed. She was sure her eyes were already as wide as they could stretch. My word, tell a man he wasn't a pet and look what happened! All those oldfashioned depictions of domineering heroes must be historically accurate after all. Primary looked ready to kill. Ohh. Primary scowled more deeply. "I'm not going to have our first time in a closet, woman," he growled. "We're not having a first time, so—" The bastard kissed her. It was so unfair. His mouth, his tongue, even his breath on her made her forget everything but kissing him. When he lifted her up, Salla embarrassed herself by burying her face in his bare chest and sighing against it. When she did, just like that, all the ferocity seemed to melt away from Primary. What was left still seemed plenty exciting. Salla brushed her fingers just lightly over his stiffened cock. "You've forgiven me," he whispered. "I—well, I'm not as angry," Salla hedged. Primary laughed and pushed another door open, more gently this time, with his foot. As he carried her into the room, Primary snorted.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
114
"Well, this isn't quite as bad as some of the places I was in when I was at the pleasure house but it's none too good. Let me—" "If you start tidying this room instead of having sex with me, Primary, I really will injure you." Salla began to laugh. "At least it's dark in here. I probably won't see anything too messy." He opened the curtains to the room and soft red moonlight entered. "I want to be able to see you clearly when you take your clothes off, " he said right before he kissed her. Salla sighed against his lips and then made a discovery. "Your hands are trembling, Primary." "I'm nervous. Now that I'm not angry, I'm terrified." "I'm the virgin here, silly." "I know." He kissed her again. "But I want everything to be right for you. I want—" He fumbled in his legging pockets and brought out a small jar. "What's that?" Salla asked. "Oil. If it works for new captures, it should work for you." Primary tilted the contents of the jar onto the palm of one hand. "Are you grooming me for market?" "I'm going to oil you and ready you for me," Primary answered. Drops of oil dripped slowly from his fingertips. "Oh." The idea sounded intriguing. "Shall I strip for you? New captures always show up on the ranch almost naked." Primary almost dropped the jar. "Uh. Yes. Yes, you definitely should." Salla pulled off her remaining trail boot. She wondered if she would ever find her first one. This didn't seem like the time to search for it. She stripped off her socks and unbuttoned her trail shirt. Salla paused before removing it, a little nervous herself. What did men do when they saw a naked woman? More importantly, what would Primary do? "Wait." Primary's voice sounded odd. "We'll do this slowly." What if he didn't like what he saw? She was small. Small breasts. Small— One slippery male finger stroked from her neck down to one breast and then, even more slowly, under the shirt to touch one taut nipple. Salla sighed at the feel of the roughened finger and the slick oil, warmed by Primary's body. She looked down. Even in the moonlight, she could tell the nipple glistened. "Beautiful," Primary whispered. He bent his head, nudging the shirt aside, to suck on the other nipple. Salla sighed and tipped her head back to allow more access to his tongue. "Mine. No one else's. I never thought I would like that."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
115
He sounded possessive. He sounded like the males she'd read about but never met. Salla sighed. Some part of her was beginning to like this oldfashioned role more and more. His fingers moved down further to the fastening of her leggings. Salla pushed his hand aside to unlace them herself. They both watched them slip past her narrow hips and down to the floor. Salla doubted the oil could make her any more slick and ready than she felt right then. His actions might be unnecessary, but that didn't keep her from sobbing with joy when Primary placed her on the bed and, leaning over her, spread her open to gently drip more oil directly on her clitoris. As the first warmed drop touched her sensitive flesh, Salla screamed in shock and delight.
***** Arness barely had time to register who the unexpected person was before she was pulled up in the air as if she were some feminine lightweight. The intruder nudged the kneeling Secondary face down on the floor as he stepped over him. Arness gave one solid jab with her elbow into her interruption's midriff. "What are you doing here, bastard?" Arness hissed. She was pulled tight against a hard body. Arness refused to enjoy the feeling. "What are you doing…woman?" "What I please. Or do you think I now have to call you master?" Arness twisted in Adan's hold but, annoyingly, couldn't free herself. "Seeing as you ran away from me—" "I never ran from you!" Adan sounded genuinely upset by the accusation. "Oh? Then how did you disappear? Did an earthquake swallow you up?" Arness managed to get in one fierce kick to his shin, even though the blow hurt her heel. What was it about Adan that made her lose her usual calm control? "You-you varlet!" "I had important work to do, woman! Curse you, stop your hitting. You might injure something you want to use later. And what's a varlet?" "You don't have anything I could possibly want, you white-haired bastard-" Arness paused when she realized he was holding her more stiffly than he should. "Goddess, are you actually hurt?" He let her turn then and, to her own disgust, she found herself holding him tightly. Goddess, she had to admit he did feel wonderful-all smooth young body, sleek muscle and fast-beating heart. She didn't even mind his smile when he realized what she was doing.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
116
"You're bruised," Arness said. "What have you been doing, idiot man?" "Well, before Primary punched me I was taking care of some unfinished business," Adan said. He brushed some hair from her face. "I have a lot of bruises from several fights. Would you like me to show you each of my hurts?" She absently swatted at him. "What unfinished business?" She didn't want to think about why Primary had hit Adan. "I have Merdeath tied up downstairs…" "You have who tied up?" "I was taking the bastard back to the ranch when I stopped here to get some food. Imagine how fascinated I was to be told you and Primary and Salla had been together all this time." "Never mind about that. It's not important. Tell me more about Merdeath." Arness gave him a smile. He didn't return it. "Please?" His narrowed eyes told her that he was going to bring the unimportant subject up later, but he answered her plea. "I planned to kill Merdeath myself but it occurred to me that he might be more useful as an example to others. Then I decided someone else would know what to do with him better than I would. You. Do you want the honor of slitting his throat? He's my present to you." Arness felt a prickle of fear crawl over her at the thought of seeing Merdeath again and then another, stronger rush of glee at how she'd see him. Adan had brought her quite a gift. "I thought you'd run away, Adan. Back to the bush." His reappearance was even better than being gifted with a helpless Merdeath. "I thought I'd run, too. I'd planned to stop just long enough to kill Merdeath before the rain washed his tracks away and then disappear forever." "Why didn’t you leave?" "Why didn't I, Arness?" He kissed the pulse at her throat. Kissed it again. “You captured me. Curse you, I can’t leave. Even when I find you with another man.” Arness wasn't sure what to say. She wound her fingers into that white hair instead and moved to kiss him. "I wasn't really with anyone else, Adan—" she began. A floorboard creaked. Secondary froze in his backwards retreat as Adan turned to look at him. "That's right. You. Why aren't you downstairs guarding Merdeath?" Adan snarled. "Or is that too useful?"
Treva Harte
The Wildling
117
"No one told me to—I'm going now!" Secondary stopped trying to creep away and began to run. "Fucoff!" After Adan's lapse into manspeak in front of her, Arness wasn't really surprised when Adan gave Secondary a farewell kick that propelled the newly freed male into the hall and against the wall.
***** Everyone in the saloon looked up as Secondary limped down the stairs. "Who was that man?" a saloon boy piped up. "And what's that?" He pointed to the trussed up bundle on the dirty floor. "I believe that's a notorious bushwhacker." Secondary stared down at the capture. "His name is Merdeath." "I don't want him in here, polluting the saloon floor," Mistress Babs said, immediately. "I run a refined place of business." "Yes, mistress. If you don't mind, I'll take him to the stables." "Well, that's a cursed bit more polite than that fellow who just barged in here and left his trash without asking. What's he want with your mistress?" "Ah—" Secondary shifted. "I couldn't say." The woman slapped him on the back. "How many people does she need in the bedroom, anyhow?" Upstairs voices began to shout. A solid thump was heard on the floor. Then a steady thumping began on one of the walls. “Goddess, those folks of yours do take on.” Mistress Babs wiped down the saloon counter, thoughtfully. “Hope they didn’t break any of my furniture. I'll have to make 'em pay for it. Both of the mistresses. Yeah. That's only right since both of them seem to be going at it. Is that new one another of your mistress' pets?” "Him? No. He's Salla's pet. Well, he was bought for her, anyhow." "That's what they said. Didn't sound right, but I should've known," Mistress Babs observed. Secondary looked at the dirty cleaning rag and shrugged as he drank the last of his lukewarm coffee quickly. He had work to do. “Bet whatever tricks you fine-looking pets got up to there would bring in a lot of trade to my saloon if my boys knew them.” Mistress Babs sounded regretful. “Couldn’t ever afford anything as pretty or as talented as any of you, though. Some women have all the luck.” “Some pets, too.” Secondary hauled Merdeath up with an effort. “In the meantime I guess I’ll stand guard over this clicksnake. I don’t think any of my
Treva Harte
The Wildling
118
colleagues will be ready to help for a bit.” Mistress Babs cackled. "…you varlet!…" The thumping began again. The members of the saloon all looked at each other and shook their heads. Mistress Babs pointed a finger at the tallest of the saloon boys. "You! Go help Secondary drag that lump to the stables. I don't want to be distracted."
***** She was going to look and long for him. Just him. She might have had other males before. He didn't need any other females. He already knew he wanted Arness more than anyone else. The persistent ache in his cock reminded Adan that Arness was moist and tight and—Goddess, she was beautiful! When he first saw her he'd been stunned by her beautiful dark skin and female curves. He'd been helpless then while she stood, strong and powerful, beside him. She could rescue him again now. He was just as helpless. More. If he'd been stunned before, when he hadn't known her, he was in an even worse state now. He licked his lips. She'd taste like sweat and female and arousal when he ran his tongue over her. He had to do that. Soon. As soon as she acknowledged what he was, what he'd done, for her. He'd called himself a fool all the while he marched Merdeath back on the trail. There was every possibility he'd be given a collar once he arrived at the ranch. Now he knew he hadn't been entirely a fool. How could he help risking his capture again? He'd thought he was fine before her. If he'd needed something that he had no words for, something that made him restless, he'd been able to put that aside. Until he understood what he'd lacked. He could never ignore this need again. He could never forget her. Arness. But did she feel the same way about him?
***** Secondary hit the stall hard enough to make him grunt. He ducked before the bucket hit his head. In one stall a cow lowed. Otherwise there was silence. Merdeath wasn't going to waste energy in talk. Secondary's kick landed solidly in the other man's knee. Merdeath crumpled
Treva Harte
The Wildling
119
and Secondary relaxed for one moment. Until Merdeath's hand pulled him off balance. Secondary landed on the ground. A second more and Secondary was gasping for air as those hands closed around Secondary's throat. "I'd kill you, boy, except I want you to relay a message." Merdeath was breathing hard now, but sounded no less dangerous for the sound. "Tell your mistress I'll be back for her. She'll need better protectors than you and that babyfaced snake who left me here."
***** "Salla—" "Oh please, oh pleeeeaaase!" The pain had been a temporary discomfort. The growing restless excitement and tension in her, however, might drive her mad. Salla wasn't sure she was able to keep breathing as her body wound up tighter and tighter yet. The bed sounded like it might rattle to pieces as Primary drove harder, his back arching up. All gentleness was gone as Salla thrust down hard against him. “It’s not enough!” Primary howled. “Then do something!” Salla howled back. “You know more about this than me. I’m going to die if I can’t come right now!” His hands grasped her ass cheeks and pulled her down again, faster, deeper. Salla wailed, writhed, and suddenly the release from tension, the uncoiling of the knot of desire in her, happened. So fast, so overwhelmingly,, that for a moment Salla thought she might lose consciousness. She knew she saw stars.
***** "Not so fast, bastard!" Secondary scrambled to his feet, ignoring the stars whirling in front of his eyes. He could manage. Goddess, he'd been known to beg for worse pain than this! Merdeath ran. They made it out to the still muddy grounds between the stables and the saloon. Where were people when you needed them? Merdeath slipped and Secondary tackled him. The bastard elbowed him in the stomach. Secondary gagged and got to his feet a second after Merdeath got to his. There was no help for it. Secondary threw his body against the other man's and they both fell hard in and then through the saloon's front door.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
120
***** Adan's cock slipped in behind her and entered Arness' suddenly very wet, aching sheath. She trembled. She couldn't help it. She wasn't even sure she wanted to help it any more. "Don't make me leave, Arness," he whispered in her ear. "I want to stay. Here. And don't you go, either." "I'm not going anywhere." "Aren't you? I don't know what you and Primary and Secondary—and Salla, for that matter—have been doing since I left you. I promise not to care as long as you answer me. Whose cock do you want right now? Someone else's or mine?" Adan slid out, in, out. He waited. Salla gave a high wail in the other room. Arness got wetter. She tightened around Adan’s cock. Goddess, she was close to coming. Why wouldn't he satisfy her? Adan moaned at her movements. He had to be close to coming, too. "I have to choose?" Arness tried to laugh. "Why? I never did before." Adan spun her against the wall, using his knees to spread her legs apart, his arms to hold her arms up, spread-eagled. Arness could hear the creaking bed next door, could imagine the sensual dance Primary was doing with Salla. She shut her eyes instead, concentrating on her own partner. Adan's cock slid in again, just the tip resting inside her. "His? Or mine?" She wasn't even sure whose "his" he meant. Did it matter? Adan wasn't being gentle. He wasn't making her want to cry with happiness, the way Salla was crying right now. But Adan was making Arness wet somewhere else. Slippery with need and want. She could hear Salla moan through the thin walls. Arness knew how that felt. Adan's tongue grazed the edge of her nipple. The nipple tightened, begging for more. A more that Adan was withholding until she said— "Yours." Adan's cock slid inside completely. Fully. Arness squirmed with the sensation. She bit her lip but a sigh escaped anyhow. While the bed creaked noisily beneath the weight of one couple, the wall began to rattle ferociously as two other bodies hurled themselves against its flimsy framework. Arness knew she was past caring whether the local townspeople knew what she was doing. Adan was holding her too tightly to let her participate with anything but her vaginal muscles, but Arness focused on using them, squeezing, milking, clenching them around Adan's soon frenziedly thrusting length.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
121
Adan wasn't seducing her. He was taking her. Just the way she was taking him. She wanted to laugh. She ought to feel helpless, trapped under his hand. Instead Arness felt powerful. She was able to make him moan and slam himself into her although he held her almost still. At last, though, Arness growled, frustrated. He kept holding her. She couldn’t come if she couldn’t move— "Are you ready, Arness? I don't know how much longer I can wait," Adan whispered. "Love." His hoarse words were, once again, what she needed. Arness felt sensation popping through her body like tiny firecrackers, exploding everywhere. She gasped and let herself light up. She climaxed a moment before Adan shuddered hard against her. Adan laughed in her ear. Rested his head against her shoulder. His damp body clung to her as he slowly lowered their arms. “Goddess, you’re strong,” Adan gasped. “Sometimes it feels like you could wring out all the cum inside a man.” He was strong, too. Able to rip a woman’s heart out along with her orgasm. But Arness didn’t think she had the breath to tell him so. As the blood stopped pounding in her ears, Arness realized it was quiet. In fact the entire noisy saloon was still. What now? Well, for one thing there was no regret, no displeasure in this surrender—if she had surrendered. All she had was a satisfied humming in her body, the kind wonderful sex could give. Adan looked as shattered and pleased as she was. She reached to stroke his long, lovely body. She wanted to touch him forever, to feel this way the rest of her life. Suddenly a huge crash reverberated through the building. "What in perdition—?" Arness began, automatically reaching for her weapon belt. A terrified scream shrilled through the downstairs. "That bastard!" Adan threw the door open. "It has to be Merdeath!"
Treva Harte
The Wildling
122
CHAPTER ELEVEN "No!" Salla cut off what else she wanted to say as soon as she got far enough down the stairs to view the scene. The problem was clear enough. Merdeath was untied and had a piece of broken bottle tight against one terrified saloon boy's throat. My word, the man had figured out the same trick Salla had when you were weaponless. Salla found it hard to believe he studied the old manuscripts. "I'll kill him if you don't let me out." Merdeath sounded like he meant every word. Primary snarled. Secondary was slumped against the saloon wall, looking ill. Salla ran to him and began to pat him down for broken bones. "I'm all right, Mistress," Secondary muttered. "I won't stand for someone hurting my property!" Mistress Babs shouted behind Salla. "You seem all right," Salla granted. "I'll do more than hurt him, woman, if I am not allowed out of this pigsty—" "Pigsty!" The saloonkeeper gasped. "—immediately. Understood?" The lighter steps on the stairs made everyone turn. Salla blinked. "Go ahead." Arness' voice was calm. Arness stood, her weapons belt on and her dart gun held at the ready. Adan stood behind her, a knife in his hand. The two of them looked deadly. Primary backed out of range. "I knew you'd see reason. I taught you obedience in camp." Merdeath's smile was ugly. "You misunderstand. Go ahead and kill him. He means nothing to me. He's not even my pet. The patroness will be happy to pay damages for him in exchange for your hide." "How much?" Mistress Babs asked. The saloon boy let out another shriek. Salla saw an unbecoming wet stain form at the crotch of his breeches. As he slumped over in a faint, Merdeath whirled and threw the limp body at Secondary, the closest threat to him. Then Merdeath pounced. Salla scarcely had time to realize she'd been grabbed by the bushwhacker before she felt the glass at her throat. "How would she like to deal with her daughter's death?" Merdeath asked. "I
Treva Harte
The Wildling
123
already know she's fond enough of the girl to buy her expensive toys like that pretty boy behind you."
***** Salla could have the pretty boy her mother had bought. He'd be Arness' personal pet forever. He'd go back to being a rented pleasure toy. Goddess. Anything. He'd do anything to change places with her right now. Salla looked so small and fragile held by Merdeath's huge paw, her blonde hair tumbled around her. Her eyes stayed wide and staring. When she looked over at him, Primary thought his heart would rip open. She was afraid. She was acting brave, not screaming, but she was terrified. Primary kept bargaining with the Goddess silently, with his muscles tight and ready to spring and his gut screaming at him not to, not to risk her life. He'd never speak to her again if that was best. He'd gladly see her with half a dozen other men later if they could save her now. He was a worthless pet, a fool who thought he could be something else. The Goddess could punish him, he deserved anything she chose to do, but not Salla. Don't hurt Salla, blessed Mother. Don't. Then he saw Merdeath begin to move and knew all his silent pleas had been in vain. The man pulled Salla up against him, his hand quivering, and then, with a loud shriek, pitched forward. Goddess, what did he plan to do with her? Heedless of everything else, Primary threw himself toward the two of them. "Wait!" he heard Arness call, faintly through the rage in Primary's blood. Wait? She was insane. He shouldn’t have waited this long. He might be too late but he'd at least pull Merdeath down with him.
***** Salla heard the saloon boy begin to sob, saw the white terror on Primary's face…and the total lack of expression on Arness'. The other woman's dart gun hand didn't even twitch. Salla knew all of them were ready to do anything to rescue her. Well, she could rescue herself. Her fingers clutched something cold in her pocket. "Well, if I don't kill you, she'll deal with the city girl's death by hunting you down and tearing you apart. Why don't you let Salla go and give yourself a chance to live a little longer?" Merdeath chuckled. "I'm doing fine just this way," he said. "Aggh!" Salla's knife, held in her shirt pocket throughout her journey, ripped through
Treva Harte
The Wildling
124
her garment and landed hard into the bushwhacker's inner thigh. She jerked the sharpened blade upward until the blood made the hilt slip from her hands. She pulled away from the man's loosened grip and ran, skidding on the saloon floor before she ducked under a table. Once there she could see nothing, but she heard groans. Then came the distinctive thwack of a dart that had found a target. Then there was a loud thud, as if someone had hit a body. "Goddess!" Primary was the next one to grab her, hauling her out from under the table in seconds. "Are you all right?" "Of course," Salla said. "You're just lucky that I didn't put that knife where I first thought I would, Primary." "You look all right, thanks be to the blessed Goddess. How do you feel?" Primary muttered, patting her down. He pulled at her shirt to check more closely. "Perdition, woman, you tried to attack an outlaw with just one tiny knife!" "I didn’t just try to attack him. I did attack him. Please, Primary, the only thing I have on is this shirt. Leave me a little modesty." Salla pushed his hands away, looked at the avid stares of the saloon patrons and began to laugh. "At least I have a shirt on. The rest of you are just wearing weapon belts." "They look real good that way," a member of the crowd called out. "I can understand why that one mistress wanted all of you up in her room for hours." "You'll be getting the bill for the room damages when you check out," Mistress Babs added.
***** Salla caught up to Arness at the head of the line. She didn't say anything for several minutes. Arness waited. Salla leading the party was unusual enough that Arness knew something was up. As the silence continued, it occurred to Arness that perhaps Salla was too out of breath to talk. Arness waved Primary to lead and dropped her pace. The silence lengthened. Salla stumbled on the path, righted herself and moved fiercely on. She kept trying, Arness granted. "Yes?" Arness urged at last when she thought Salla might be able to speak. "Do you know what you'll be doing next?" Salla asked without more prompting. Arness looked at her suspiciously. The question didn't sound barbed or sulky. Salla only looked thoughtful. "Well, I liked planting that dart in Merdeath's hide," Arness answered. "His screams made up for a good deal of humiliation. I believe I may start hunting outlaws instead of wildlings."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
125
She glanced over at the large sling that two of the men held. She smiled at the thought of the wounded and bound Merdeath, helpless inside his giant cotton cocoon. She'd enjoy seeing him go to trial. Not just for her own personal satisfaction, but by the time she was done testifying, people would know her as an outlaw taker. "You'll enjoy your half of the reward Mama posted, too. Since I started his capture I think half is quite fair." "A third. Adan brought him in." "Adan let him escape!" "A fourth. Secondary got him back." "Back to almost kill me!" "If you want me to go clean up the gang you need to be fair in your payment. I intend to be as successful a bounty hunter as I was a pet trader. No. More successful." Salla hesitated. "From what I saw of Mama's books, half the posted reward is closer to what she can afford. She spends too much on pets. I doubt breeding ranches, at least the way she runs them, are profitable." Arness eyed Salla thoughtfully. The girl had the makings of a shrewd bargainer, but she also sounded sincere. "Half and you pay all the damages Mistress Babs charged us." "Ugh. You'd think we destroyed all Desolation from the bill." Arness took Salla's words for agreement but Salla continued to frown. The blonde began to pull at the fringes of her vest, looking uncertain. Arness put her hand out and touched Salla on the arm. "You have something else you want to say, don't you." Salla gulped for air before she spoke next. "My word. I wonder if I can find someone able to make out-country trail velocipedes,” Salla muttered. "This walking isn't going to work. I'll never get used to it. I wonder who I could find who would be crazy enough to come out here to work for nothing and find a way to make some that are strong enough to stand up to these trails." Arness had heard of the two-wheeled vehicles though she'd never seen any. They were popular in the city but not ever used on dirt roads. "If it did work, you could make money off that," she said. "A rugged velocipede could change transportation out here." "I need money all right. Even if Mama isn't as broke as I think, I have no money of my own," Salla said cheerfully. "But I have lots of ideas to change things, Arness. I intend to convince Mama to set all her pets free." Another one who had come to the same conclusions she had? Not long ago
Treva Harte
The Wildling
126
Arness wouldn't have wanted anything in common with this odd woman. But Salla had more to her than a sour face and jealousy. She'd handled herself like a seasoned veteran against Merdeath. Besides she might hold the key to freeing Adan from Morgena. "Well, if she has no money now, you'll make sure she is in debt with that idea." "Not necessarily. I think many of the pets might be willing to stay with us anyhow. Their choice. Especially if we change the emphasis from breeding to recreation." "Recreation? Like a pleasure house?" "Not exactly. Well, sort of. Women could come to relax here, enjoy themselves and have some male attention and pampering. Mama's pets do know how to pamper you." "A fancy pleasure house then. Where the workers are…free?" "I suppose you could see it that way. After all, they'd be freed pets, former captures, just barely tamed. Having wildlings at your command could be a nice gimmick. Don't you think so?" "It could work." Arness thought of Adan and his refusal to be a pet. Her breath still sped up. "Works for me." "It's a little much to tackle, even for Primary and me. If you should ever want to work with us—" "The two of us would fight viciously." "Perhaps." Salla swung her arms to keep her pace going. "By the way, you're right. I do have something else to ask." At last. Arness waited. Salla out waited her. "And that is?" Arness prompted. "Primary's hand in marriage." "What does that mean?" "I'm not sure exactly." Salla smiled. "I need to do more research. But I think it used to be very important. I want to do things right here. In all the manuscripts I have read, weddings were life-changing events for the man and woman. He's already changed my life, so I mean to marry the man. I think I'll ask Mama to officiate. She'd do a splendid job." "I'm sure," Arness murmured. "Now you, you're the closest thing to family Primary has. That's why I'm asking your permission. I'd like you to give him away at the wedding." "What would happen if I said no?" Arness asked curiously. Could she mention Adan and an exchange? For someone who spent her life bargaining over
Treva Harte
The Wildling
127
men and their worth, she was suddenly terrified to mention the subject. "I'd have him anyhow. As long as he's willing." "So I thought. Very well. I permit you. Except for one thing." "What?" Salla's smile turned wary. "I'd give him away if he were mine to give. But he's his own man." "I think that's just an expression," Salla frowned. "I understand your point, however." "There's another thing. If Primary is his own man, so is Adan. Your mother might not understand that but you do. If you can see that Adan is free to leave Morgena, I'll gladly pretend to give Primary away at a wedding." "I'll do my best." "By the way—" "Yes? What else?" "What's a wedding?"
***** "What did she want?" Adan asked, falling easily into place beside her at the head of the line. "She asked for Primary's hand," Arness answered, frowning a little. "What? She has all of him as it is—two hands, legs…Blast it, his cock and both balls, for that matter. I'd think she'd ask you for that first." "Don't! This was very important to Salla. She asked nicely. She even smiled. You know, I rather liked her that way." Why was Adan making her want to laugh after the odd, almost panicky feeling she’d had after Salla's conversation? Salla made her head spin with her plans and ambitions. Salla had no problems with change. She certainly showed none of the reluctance Arness had. "Salla plans to mar Primary. No. That's not it. Marry him. She plans to marry him." "What's that?" "An important, life-changing event." Adan stared at her, then almost fell over a loose stone because he wasn't minding his footing on the trail. "Huh?" "I don't really know what she means." Arness didn't mind admitting her ignorance to him. "But Salla wants it, so Primary will, too. I'm sure they will get married. Salla intends to stay on the ranch, I think. I doubt the place will ever be the same by the time she's done." Would she ever feel welcome there again? "You're going to let Primary go then."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
128
"Yes. Secondary, too. And the other wildling I still haven't sold." Arness kept walking. "Why?" Adan reached out, grabbed her hand. She stopped. Arness still wasn't used to him putting hands on her without permission. The shock of his unauthorized touch still excited her. She dropped her eyes to hide her sudden rush of desire. Adan didn't notice as he demanded, "Because of me? What I said to you?" "Well, would you let me have other men? Even just owning them?" Arness looked into his stormy face and smiled. "I thought not. You told me so clearly enough before. No sex if I kept my pets." "No. I'd kill them—rip them apart and leave you before I let that happen. You know that well enough. But I'd hoped there was still another reason." "What would that reason be?" Adan swallowed. "Perhaps it's too much to expect, but you seemed to understand why I can't be a pet. Why I crave your respect." "Because you're not something to be owned." "No, I'm not. But also none of us should be owned as a pet because—" "No man is a pet." Arness said the words out loud calmly. Admitting it to Adan wasn't so bad. She couldn't believe she'd fought the truth for so long. Arness gasped when she saw that tears glittered in Adan's eyes. "What's wrong, Adan?" Arness asked. Very deliberately he took her hands and raised them to his forehead as he bowed his head before her. It was a pet's gesture of utter devotion and submission, one she'd always refused to force any of her pets to make. "I've waited for you to say the words. I loved you before you did, but this makes everything complete." Adan's next words came out softly, uncertainly. "Even if you don't love me." Arness blinked again. Her Adan sounded anything less than arrogant and sure of himself? Her throat tightened. He was endearing this way, too. "I'm going to prove to you I'm more than a novelty." Adan's head jerked up and as his hands dropped to his sides, his fists clenched. "You're going to find out how important I am to you before I'm done." Arness laughed. She knew this Adan. Knew and wanted and adored this Adan. Blast it, she liked both Adans. Unsure and arrogant, adoring and commanding. It appeared she might be keeping two men after all, though they were housed in the same delightful body. "You can prove to me whatever you like," she said. Her next words came easily, too. Words she'd never imagined ever saying to any male a few weeks before. "But you needn't. I know you're not a novelty. I'd never discard you. I've been talking to Salla about you, to make sure you're freed. You're the man I
Treva Harte
The Wildling
129
love."
***** Arness fingered the long skirt she wore, realized she what she was doing and stopped. She cleared her throat. The hairpins she wore to keep her hair piled up seemed to be sticking straight into her head. "Well. It's almost time." Blast it—she'd grown rather fond of that phrase of Adan's—but she felt foolish. When was the last time she'd worn a skirt? Arness knew she'd never worn her hair so elaborately. She never would again, either. Arness couldn't believe Salla had convinced all of them to do this. "I guess so." Primary looked amazingly calm despite his tight-fitting white suit. Arness doubted he'd ever worn anything like it before, but he looked like he'd been born to adorn one. "Salla says I'm supposed to give you advice." Arness shrugged. "What can I possibly tell you?" Primary grinned. "A school-friend of hers sent a ceremonial collar and leash for…ah, bedroom use. Would you like to advise me on how to use that wedding gift?" "I wouldn't presume to tell a wise man like you or a smartass like Salla what to do with such a device. I doubt there's anything I can tell you about such things." "How about telling me that you wish me well?" Arness looked at the man who'd been her partner in so many things. She held out her hand. "Of course, dear Primary." Primary surprised her by kissing her palm. Then he patted her hand before he stepped back. "I guess everything is settled then," Arness said. Adan would have killed Primary if he'd seen that kiss. But Adan was outside with the other guests—no doubt pacing and wondering what Arness and Primary were doing alone together. Salla might be doing the same, but she had insisted the person who gave away the groom was to have a private conference with him right before the ceremony and prepare him. Perhaps Salla'd been right to insist on keeping that tradition. “I guess everything is settled.” Primary looked back at her. For a moment she thought she might have seen a faint regret, but then it was gone. He smiled. "Your man is going to enjoy seeing you in lace. I hope he learns to undo those hooks in the back without tearing them off. Salla taught me how. It can take a very, very long time."
Treva Harte
The Wildling
130
Arness could imagine. She could also imagine what Adan would do. "I hope he does tear them," Arness murmured. Then she remembered her role. She inspected the groom from top to toe. Blast it. Instead of being critical, she almost salivated at the sight. Broad-shouldered, freshly shaved, chin up. A male who no longer bowed his head. Why did Adan have to show her that was sexy? Thank Goddess she found Adan sexier than other men. Not even Primary could compare with him. Instead of drooling, Arness tried for a brisk tone. "Primary, you look splendid. Truly splendid. There's one thing wrong." Her eyes went to his neck. Primary's fingers moved up to where she stared. "It's been with me so long that I'd forgotten I still wore this," he murmured. He fumbled with the old collar. The clasp hadn't been used in a long time and was difficult to unfasten. Once done, though, Primary quickly held the strap of leather out toward her, dangling it from one finger. “This doesn’t belong to me anymore,” he said. “Throw it away,” Arness said. “It’s not mine, either. Come on. Salla wants you two to have this thing called a wedding. The sooner I give you away, the sooner you can get to the bedding. Now what Salla describes of that sounds…entertaining.” "Oh, Goddess." Primary looked uneasy for the first time. "She isn't really planning to have everyone in the wedding watch us, is she?" "She says that's the traditional way. Some manuscript about doves and wolves says so. How do you think wolves and doves know?" Arness began to grin. "Don't look so worried. I know you're up to it, stud." "Who is worried? Maybe I can change her mind before the end of the evening." Primary smiled, a slow, sexy smile. "You never would've said that before," Arness pointed out. "Not to me." "I was never married to you," Primary responded. "Being a groom is different." "Right. Now you wear a ring around your finger, not your neck. There's a big difference." Arness carefully kept from giggling when she spoke. "Salla promised to wear a ring, too," Primary answered. "I guess we're both captures to the other. Salla will care for me as carefully as I care for her." "Well, maybe that would be all right." Arness tried to imagine Adan in complete charge of her. A small tingle told her that the thought wasn't as repellent as it might have been a few weeks ago. She might come to envy the married couple. Then again, if she liked this wedding ceremony, what was to stop her from proposing to Adan and trying it for herself? Adan would be dazzling in white.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
131
Primary turned and, showing the vast strength in his body, he lifted Arness and spun her in a wide circle. She held onto her elaborate coiffure and prayed it wouldn't tumble down. She would never, never have the patience or time to have it redone. "Thank Goddess someone besides me has the care of you now!" Arness snapped. "You've gone quite mad." The door banged open. Adan stood in the doorway and scowled. "Aren't you done talking at last? Listen, pet, since when does talking involve laying hands on a woman?" Arness was put down on her feet. She carefully arranged some strands of her hair. After everything looked more or less put back the way the ranch's women had fixed it, she laid her hand on Adan's arm, just in case he forgot one shouldn't fight at a wedding. Especially with the groom. "Do I look all right after this madman twirled me around?" she asked. Adan's face softened. Arness let her hand linger. Something else wasn't soft at all. Apparently, despite his words and scowls, this wedding business made him as randy as she was. "You look ravishing." "Very soon I hope to look ravished." Arness smiled at Adan and at his involuntary catch of breath. Primary laughed at them both. He tossed the collar in the corner as he strode toward the doorway. "I'm ready," he said. "Let's get me married."
***** "He's here!" One of the ranch women called and then whistled. "All here, if you know what I mean." The room erupted into a cacophony of noise as the man and his guide reached the bedroom. Salla realized two things simultaneously. Her hands were shaking and sometimes old customs were dropped for a reason. Oh. And she knew that Primary was magnificent. When Arness led him around the room, with him dressed in no more than the bejeweled cock collar, Salla knew every woman in the room was as slack-jawed as she was. When Arness handed the leash over to her, Salla wondered how the other woman could bear to do so. Despite the sweat on her palms, she took firm hold of the handle. "Love, shall I undress you?" Primary asked. He seemed completely unconcerned over his nudity and unworried about everyone viewing his hard-on. Of course with an erection like his, why should he worry?
Treva Harte
The Wildling
132
"Yes." Salla tried not to squeak. His warm hands touched the back of her neck. The whistles and howls of the rest faded away. "I promised you my leash wouldn't slip, didn't I?" "You're beautiful, Primary," Salla whispered. "I can't believe I'm so lucky." He kissed her neck this time. His wet tongue flicked against her skin. She jumped at the touch. His big fingers gently unfastened the first hook. Delicately he went to the next, kissing each bit of newly exposed flesh as he let the fastening go free. Salla thought it would take forever. She squirmed against him and he paused, flattening his hands against her hips to still her movements.
***** "Let's go, Arness," Adan whispered. "What?" Arness blinked. All the women had fallen silent, mesmerized by Primary's seemingly submissive gesture and the open desire on Salla's face as he slowly undressed her. "Let's leave," Adan hissed in Arness' ear. "Wh—" Arness felt just why Adan had said that as he prodded her leg. Apparently not just the women were affected by the sight.
***** Salla gripped her hands together as Primary unfastened the last hook, an excruciatingly long time later. Her breath eased out. At last. The dress began to slip from her shoulders. Primary knelt behind her. Then she felt his tongue touch, just as he had elsewhere, between her cheeks. Salla's eyes widened. She'd never imagined such a thing. "Oh my—" She stared at the equally wide-eyed audience before her. "Go away! I want to be with my husband." Adan grabbed Arness and began to hustle her away. "Blast that pet," Arness said. "He told me he'd stop the public bedding ceremony. I never would've guessed how." "Primary has had years of experience in gently persuading females to do what he thinks they should," Adan said, thoughtfully. "I suppose I could learn something from him. Not that I will." "I never realized how neatly he managed to get his way in things until I began to argue with you." Arness swallowed. Had she been manipulated all these years? "Which way do you like better? His or mine?" Adan challenged. "Remind me." Arness smiled.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
133
***** "More sex?" Four asked. "Well—" Tanja hesitated and giggled. "I don't mind if I do." Four stretched his arms and legs out by the bedposts, obviously eager to be bound. She really did need to tell him you didn't have to be tied for sex. She would tell him. Soon. Tanja bound his arms and heard him sigh. The howls and screams outside their room were forgotten as she ran her hands over his torso. She couldn't believe she'd gotten so lucky.
***** Carefully, Dorinda placed the huge key in the front door and forcefully turned it. With bushwhackers about, it paid to be careful. The lights were finally off in the guesthouse where the newlyweds had been put to bed. Watching that had gotten everyone riled up. The lights were on at the Hen House. Upstairs, in Patroness Morgena's room, Dorinda could hear the noises. Dorinda padded her way toward her bedroom. Someone on the ranch had to be sensible. She'd made do with pets for sex during the last few nights, but not anymore. Dorinda turned off the light. She might as well relax now. It had been an unusual day. The wedding had turned the whole ranch on its head. Foolish idea, but fun. That Salla was going to keep things in a hubble-bubble for a good long time. Salla was already nattering on to her mama about changing how pets were treated, even saying more pets than Primary should be freed. Wanting to change how the whole ranch was run. Ridiculous, but the girl was persistent. Everything would be different if the patroness was indulgent enough to give in. Thank Goddess you could depend on some things. And thank Goddess for that other young woman showing up when she did. Dorinda couldn’t believe she could get a talented mechanic’s services for little more than room and board. But you’d have thought Dorinda had offered her the planet when, guilty over such a good bargain, Dorinda had thrown in the services of any of the spare pets. The mechanic girl—Tanja—had been in bed with that new pet almost before Dorinda had finished speaking. Dorinda shrugged. Another foolish woman. Why didn’t more females realize how much easier things were when you had sex without pets? Dorinda crawled into bed and flicked on the vibrator. It didn’t take long. Soon her female howls of pleasure wafted up into the night, joining the ranch’s
Treva Harte
The Wildling
134
chorus.
***** "Adan?" Arness caressed his bare shoulder. "Adan?" No response. She bent her head and kissed his cheek. One hand reached out to pull her down flat on top of him. Arness smiled as his lips lazily began to nuzzle her ear. "Are you trying to kill me?" Adan asked. "Not at the moment," Arness said. "I just wondered if you liked this wedding business." "I liked it well enough. I liked the ending a lot. Watching Primary and Salla go to bed got you worked up." "Me? You were the one who dragged me to the bedroom." "Maybe." He smiled without opening his eyes and nipped at her jaw, then sucked the tiny bite. Arness began to shiver again. "Adan. Stop. This is important." "Mmmm. Yes." "Adan, I'm starting a new profession and I don't know if I'll do well at it. Things might not be easy at first." "You'll be fine." "Adan! Shut up. This is probably too early, but I want to know if you'd be willing to marry me even if I'm not sure of the future." "Another wedding?" Adan looked thoughtful. "You are trying to kill me, aren't you. If the alcohol doesn't do it, the sex will." "Is that yes or no?" "You told me to shut up." Arness growled and shook him a little. Within seconds she was pinned to the bed. "I'll think about it," he said. "You are impossible. I can find another husband." "No you can't. I accept. You need me. Who else will help you find outlaws and make love the way I can?" Arness smiled as Adan slid into her body. He was arrogant and annoying, but exciting. Really, why would a woman want to have sex with a mere pet? This was so much better.
Treva Harte
The Wildling
135
Also at Ellora's Cave
The Deviants
His Mistress
Perfect
Ellora’s Cave www.ellorascave.com