Nathor cackled friendly when Ka-Lan told him.
“Thought your task was to pleasure the poor betrothed, did you?”
They were outside in the courtyard again. Ka-Lan sporting just his strips of leather. Catching the kitchen girls’ eyes. Usually he’d have taken that as an invitation. One thing would have led to another.
But he suspected now he knew better than to go down that path.
Nathor was grinning good-heartedly into Ka-Lan’s astonished face.
“Do the business on the betrothed? Na, that’s just a job-on-the-side. Not how the mistress works ……”
Ka-Lan knew to his costs that she worked hard. She’d worked him over. He’d sweated. It had taken all he had in him not to beg. Hours later .. cleaned-up, rested .. he still shivered at the effort he’d shed.
The bitch had put her best into working Ka-Lan over. Not the most pleasurable sex. Not a bit of it. Arduous. Painful. Belittling. Downright demeaning. He was nothing. To be used. Tormented, tortured. Then .. satisfaction achieved .. HER satisfaction .. he’d been kicked aside.
Maybe not the most sadistic bitch a man could ever come across. Not yet. It was still early days. Ka-Lan reckoned she still had plenty of tricks up her sleeve. And Ka-Lan now knew she was going to try them out .. on him. Every single one.
This was just Day One.
“Why you think she’d given you a good looking over? Before you got her seal of approval?”
Nathor chuckled at his naivety.
“Why d’you reckon she’s the one who selects the seed-slave?”
His shoulders shook with merriment at Ka-Lan’s innocence.
“Not out of some misplaced love for the betrothed …… That poor girl ….. doesn’t get a look-in ….”
That twin-sister, the Mistress, did not seem to have much concern for the well-being of the betrothed. She had supervised Ka-Lan doing the job on her. His morning stint. Then she had the betrothed confined to her bed. Got her out of the way .. and then ……
Five times. Worked him up. Got Ka-Lan almost to the point of the inevitable. Slowly working on him .. slowing things down when needed. She could read his body as well as himself. If he’d been able to join in properly, it would have been hell of a session. Sex at its best. She was fucking good at fucking a man. But she didn’t mean for him to play along.
“Eyes off, animal. Up at the ceiling.”
She hadn’t had to say, Or else. Ka-Lan knew.
Five times .. just about to cum. Then …. FUCK!
Again he was just a cock. That strap across his hips had gone. But he reckoned that if he dared thrust, she’d be frying his cock for him that day. Just a cock, all he was. A cock to be toyed with. Five times she had brought him to the brink of ecstasy. Fire raging in his blood. Need aflame in his cock. Each time getting there .. she’d take a lifetime. Mind-blowing, scintillating. Titillating.
And then .. when it looked like, this time, she deigned to let him cum .. after she’d worked him up to the point of gasping .. his breathing fast and deep .. panting like he’d had a panther on his tail this last mile … agonisingly in need of the release .. knowing it was happening ……
THEN the fucking-bitch shifted her arse up in the air.
He’d cried out. In shock, disappointment. Each time. Increasingly loud .. in desperation. Five fucking mind-blowing times. Each time offered with the maddening thought that THIS time she’d want to feel him. She’d crave to know he was exploding madly inside her.
And every malicious time she refused. She stopped herself. She stopped him. Reading his needs like a book. Controlling. Dominating. Tormenting.
She lifted her arse. She slid him out of her. She drove him mad.
He was running with sweat. She glowed with satisfaction. Satisfaction at torturing him. Five motherfucking-desperate times .. each one worse than before. And after she had bored with that .. when she’d squeezed as much sexual frustration out of him as she wanted .. for today .. she casually swung herself off his hips and walked out.
She hadn’t let him cum. Five motherfucking-times! She refused him. His mistress .. she denied him that right. That need. She abandoned him .. cock glistening .. blood racing .. nerves jangling ….. She’d walked out of the room. She denied him his raging need. Lording it over him. Dominating. Control. Torturing him out of his skin. Not even bothered to turn around and glory in the look of tormented disappointment on his face. A NOTHING.