Training the Warrior (6 page)

She trembled out of control before the
shattering orgasm took over, forcing her channel to clench around Kern’s rigid
cock. Lydia shouted his name over and over as she came. He let out a savage
snarl at the sensation, closing his jaws tighter on her shoulder, but not enough
to pierce her skin. She was never worried. She trusted him completely. His “bite”
was simply an instinctive urge brought on by the need to keep her beneath him
until he found his own release. Only the mated warriors subdued their mates in
this way.

Two mighty thrusts later, he opened his
jaws and threw back his head, letting out an earsplitting roar as he came. Hot
jets of cum filled her as his hip movements slowed to short jerks. He grunted
with each spasm while her quivering walls stripped the last drops of seed from
his still very stiff cock.

They fell over, sprawling onto their sides
in the aftermath of sexual satisfaction. Lydia snuggled closer, seeking the
warmth of his chest against her back while, at the same time, reveling in the
fact her mate’s glorious shaft was still buried and very rigid inside her. A
strong arm pulled her tighter, holding her in a possessive embrace. He nuzzled
into her tangled hair, drawing in a deep breath.

“Rest now, little one. Gather your
strength. I want to pleasure you again very soon.”

To emphasize his point, he pumped his hips
once, moving his erection in a threatening gesture within her sheath. Lydia
hummed in approval, smiling as she drifted off to sleep. Kern always said what
he meant. True to his words, he made slow, tender love to her as soon as she
woke. Perhaps he instinctively knew she needed to experience his gentle side. She
was comforted by his soft-spoken words of love and was grateful to the teachers
who’d trained her warrior so magnificently.

* * * *

Present day

Smiling at her memories, Lydia tried not to
appear frustrated. She’d been waiting in the antechamber all day for her
interview with the head mistress. Not counting her, there’d been nine other
hopeful initiates waiting with her that morning. Now she was the last one. All
the others, including Takoora, had been called inside one at a time. None had
returned. She hoped it was a good sign. The teachers only accepted initiates
once a year.

Lydia fidgeted with the hem of her robe’s
long sleeve. The hooded garment was made of a soft satiny fabric. It covered
her completely from her ankles to the top of her head. It was bright red, the
color of an initiate. Underneath she was nude. Her hair was pulled back and
clasped behind her neck, its length bound in a tight braid as required. If she
passed this interview, she’d be given her next accessory—a black mask,
proclaiming her official status as a student of pleasure.

The black mask was worn by a teacher who
instructed a young warrior in pleasure. The color of her robe was either light
blue or dark blue, depending on her level of accomplishment. A white mask was
worn by the other teacher, the giver of punishment, who always wore a dark blue
robe. All teachers who wore the white mask had mastered the art of administering
punishment, which could be as simple as a painful shock, or worse, a young warrior
might be denied pleasure for a certain amount of time.

Two teachers worked together when training
the young warriors. They were partners of a sort. Lydia smiled and hoped the
hood hid her expression. Tauran warriors were big on partners. The idea was
mirrored by the teachers.

She’d spent the past week reading the
Rules
of Training
, listening to the older more experienced teachers lecturing
about the history of their clan and taking notes about the four stages of a warrior’s
recovery. The first stage seemed pretty straight forward.

Get their attention, keep their attention,
reward them for good behavior and punish them for bad behavior. Lydia could
have gone to any bookstore back on Earth and bought a book that spelled out the
exact same methods. It was called
The Care and Training of a Puppy
.
However, the feed them and clean them until they can perform the tasks for
themselves was beyond most puppies abilities. But she had faith in the tried
and true practices the teachers employed to train the warriors.

As for the other stages, the teachers just
smiled their little secret smiles and said the initiates would learn best by
observing. From what Lydia could glean through questioning the younger more
talkative teachers, the new initiates would observe as a pair of teachers
instructed a newly-bladed warrior on the proper way to pleasure a female. She
was assured by them it was a simple technique.

Hardly.

The double doors opened. The sudden noise
roused Lydia from her reverie. The assistant to the head mistress motioned for
her to approach. Expressionless, the unmasked woman gave no hint if she
approved or disapproved of Lydia’s presence.

Lydia followed the woman, who wore a dark
blue robe, the garment of a fully qualified teacher. They passed through a
large meeting hall before entering a hallway that led to a much smaller room.
The setting was more casual and intimate than Lydia had been expecting. There
was a single wooden seat in the center of the room. In front of it was a raised
dais that held an old wooden desk.

Seated behind the ancient desk was an older
Tauran female draped in a white robe. Lydia guessed she was in her late forties
to early fifties. Like the teacher who’d shown her into the room and then promptly
disappeared, the woman’s face was a blank slate, no expression at all. It was
very unnerving. Lydia suspected they kept their feelings hidden in order to freak
out the initiates. If so, it worked. She sat on the chair, lowered her eyes to
gaze at the floor and waited, trying her best to appear calm. The head mistress
didn’t make her wait long.

“You’re an off-worlder, Lydia. Are you
certain you wish to follow this path? As a warrior’s unmated, you’re welcome to
live out the remainder of your life here on Fortress, safe and well cared for.
Or you could find another male who’d take you to mate. You’re still young and
beautiful. Another warrior might claim you, and I’m sure there are many Tauran
males who’d like the opportunity to persuade you into agreeing to a formal
mating.”

“I want no other, mistress. My mate spoke
highly of the teacher clan. I wish to join and serve.” Lydia gathered her
courage, and added, “Not all teachers are Tauran.”

“Perhaps,” the head mistress said. “But all
the off-worlders claimed by warriors are almost genetically identical to Tauran
females. You’re different, Lydia. Yet a warrior took you as his mate.”

The grinding sound of a chair scooting back
made Lydia wince. Soft footsteps approached, then stopped in front of her. A
slender hand, delicate and soft, reached out to cup Lydia’s chin, tilting her
head up. She stared hopefully into the warm brown eyes of the head mistress.

“Only a few Taurans are capable of becoming
teachers, Lydia. And most of those who do are very good. A few are even
excellent. In order to be an excellent teacher, you must have empathy,
patience, strength of will and an ability to anticipate what a young warrior might
require.” The head mistress smiled slyly. “In other words, you must be smarter
than them, always. That’s our most guarded secret. You must not tell anyone,
especially the warriors.”

 Lydia smiled up at the wise woman as she
realized she’d just been accepted. By some miracle, she’d passed.

“Thank you, mistress.”

The woman turned away to walk toward the
dais. Reaching it, she spun around and took a seat on the edge of the raised
platform. She smiled secretively. Her manner startled Lydia.

“Lydia, I’ve looked forward to speaking
with you. I’m sorry you had to wait so long, but I wanted you to interview last
so we could visit for a few moments. I fear our time is limited.”

“Mistress?” Lydia didn’t know how to
respond.

“Several years ago, right before I retired
from active teaching, Kern was one of my last warriors.”

Lydia’s mouth dropped open in shock.

The woman’s smile widened. “He was just one
of a few of my most memorable trainees.” Her expression turned somber. “News of
his death saddened me. Your service here honors his memory, Lydia. We welcome
you.”

“I wish to honor him.” She lowered her head
and stared at the floor once more, not wanting the older woman to see the tears
swimming in her eyes.

“After you become a qualified teacher, you
may come across a warrior who’ll make an impression on you, more so than all
the others. They’re usually the ones who give us our greatest challenge. Kern
was like that. Difficult, stubborn and demanding. He tried my patience.”

“That does sound like him.” Lydia smiled,
disregarding her tears as she looked at the head mistress. The older woman smiled
pleasantly.

“My curiosity is purely professional,
Lydia. I have to ask. Did he always treat you with gentleness?”

“Yes, mistress. Always.”

“And did he put your pleasure above his
own?”

Lydia nodded, unembarrassed. “Yes, he did,
each and every time.”

The head mistress sighed while she shook
her head. “His training was successful. I have complete faith in our methods, but
I have to admit, your warrior challenged me at every stage.”

They both laughed. Lydia felt more
lighthearted now, as if a weight bearing down on her soul had been removed.
Maybe she was recovering from her loss. For the first time in many months, she
was able to laugh. The sadness she felt over Kern’s death was giving way to the
joy of his memory filling her heart. She was beginning to look forward to a
future.

“Before you can proceed with your training,
you must decide how you wish to remain infertile. For Tauran women it’s simple.
We have control over our own fertility. You’re…human,” the head mistress said,
using Lydia’s name for her species.

“Yes, mistress.”

This was something she was prepared to
address. The newly-bladed warriors remained infertile for at least two years, but
teachers weren’t expected to remain cloistered like celibate religious
followers. They could enjoy a social life outside the sanctuary. However,
pregnancy wasn’t allowed. Lydia had come to the conclusion that a human female
and a Tauran warrior were incapable of producing children together. She and
Kern had never used any type of contraception and she’d never conceived his
child. No matter, she didn’t want to take the risk.

 “Since I have no control over my own
ovulation cycle I’d like to prevent conception by having the medical implant.”
She certainly wouldn’t miss having her periods.

The head mistress stood. “Then it shall be
done immediately.” She motioned toward a side door, and said, “A teacher is
waiting for you in the hallway. She’ll give you your mask and take you to our
physicians.”

Lydia rose to her feet and bowed her head
respectfully, saying, “Thank you, head mistress.”

 “Welcome, Initiate Lydia. And please call
me Mistress Breanne. The warrior clan and teacher clan are grateful for your
willingness to serve.”

“Yes, Mistress Breanne. I am honored to
serve.” Lydia spoke the formal words for the first time. From now on, she’d be
saying them to a newly-bladed warrior, but only after he performed all the
tasks given to him in a satisfactory manner.

Chapter Three

Lydia’s life was much different now. As an initiate,
she lived inside the sanctuary within the actual citadel. It was the heart of the
fortress compound, the training center for all warriors. Between their
twenty-second and twenty-fourth year of life they were sent by their birth
parents to Fortress for final training and preparation for manhood. Most spent
the final year of their youth living with a host family in the outer city.

Lydia had noticed the gentle giants many
times during the short time she’d had with Kern. They were bright, trusting
hulks who’d been educated on their birth worlds alongside their Tauran
counterparts. The only difference in their schooling was the rigorous physical
education they received. Hand-to-hand combat, sword fighting, target practice
with gun and dagger. Endurance training, both physical and mental, were
required.

An unbladed warrior’s body was fully grown
when he reached thirteen years of age past birth. This meant, in Galactic
Standard time, they were over nineteen years old. By the time they arrived on
Fortress at the age of twenty-two, most were at least six and a half feet tall,
give or take a couple inches. Their bodies were strong and thick with powerful muscles,
but their physiques had a soft almost pudgy appearance. To Lydia, they looked as
if they hadn’t lost an ounce of baby fat. It was the only comparison she could
come up with that made sense to her when she’d first seen them.

Now she knew the reason, the actual
science, for why they appeared as they did. Hormones, vast quantities of
different powerful ones, would soon flood their systems. Human teenage boys
spent several years changing into fully grown men. Warriors changed almost
overnight by comparison. As they neared their sixteenth year past birth, the
young warriors’ arm sheaths would complete their outer development to end near
their elbows. All their lives, the thick, flattened ulna bones in their
forearms had been growing and developing in preparation for what was about to happen
next.