Virile (14 page)

“Adara?” She looked in his general direction, too drained to make more than a token effort.

Indicating a small button embedded in the corner frame, he said, “Press that if you require the facilities…or anything else. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Adara Waycross. Traveller Waycross. Number 200395767.

Aware of Thorn watching her searchingly, she said it again, a little louder. “Yes.”

The gate shut with a dull thud, nothing like the sound of iron clanging she might have expected. Another mystery—one she didn’t care to solve at that moment.

She didn’t watch them file out but heard the door shut softly—and then there was silence. She shivered a little but ignored the blankets. If they’d wanted her covered they’d have covered her. She ate when they fed her, bathed when they bathed her, slept when they put her to bed. She’d be urinating and defecating on command next—outside no doubt. She was starting to think as they expected too, and it had taken but a few days under their command. She was losing herself, and where would she be in just over three weeks when she went home?

Time crept slowly by. All manner of things drifted in and out of her brain, but nothing, surprisingly, about her home planet. Memories of the attendant on the ship telling her that these men were waiting for her—and not as in they were merely anticipating her imminent arrival. Interesting tidbits like how immediately familiar she was with the twins, able to tell them apart and assess what set them apart from one another wended its way through her head. Her revelation about ditching her attitude when she didn’t get her way—she disliked sulking in others and wondered that she resorted to it herself. Self-pity was another ridiculous emotion, one she wasn’t falling back into either. Something Thorn said about who she really was prodded her—she no longer had any idea about who she really was other than their submissive for the next while.

Suspecting she had misjudged the twins in particular really bothered her. She could admit to trying to manipulate them even when Kellis made it clear it wouldn’t be allowed. They’d been angry with her, more frustrated when she thought about it, and it was because she’d hurt them, projecting her own insecurities. She really liked them both, she thought again, no matter they’d paddled her ass. It was their way of dealing when she pushed too hard, and seeing as she was here she’d live by their rules. Have an intense, blistering affair with them. Because she wasn’t going to open her heart to them.

Thorn was another matter. Pleasing him really wasn’t such a challenge if she just did as he said and trusted he wouldn’t really hurt her. There was no way she’d be comfortable being naked in front of Cenna, but she’d do it and hide her discomfort. Be polite. Too fucking bizarre, but she’d do it. She had no doubt he would be initiating her further into his Dom practices, but she’d survive that too. As long as it was about pleasure, even if there was the expected erotic pain, she figured to participate and avoid further punishment. She wouldn’t require it if she acted the obedient pet.

Tucking her inconvenient, confusing feelings about Thorn away, she tried to recall all the things she’d read about submitting and obedience, culling her memory banks for anything that might apply here. The dull throbbing in her bladder mirrored that in her ass cheeks—she needed to pee and longed for something to cool her buttocks—but she would wait. Do her penance and suffer the far too big plug in her rectum. Like a good pet.

****

“She hasn’t rung, Thorn,” Cenna sounded a trifle concerned. “I checked the video feed a few minutes ago, and she hasn’t changed position.”

Fuck. Godsdamn it. When he found the twins correcting Adara’s inappropriate self-deprecation, he’d felt a savage flare of satisfaction. Finally! They had risen to the challenge that was Adara and accepted how little time they had to bend her to their will. Their beloved required immediate response and pure sensation to divert her from over thinking everything, at least anything they didn’t want her to obsess upon. She had willingly accepted the structure of the cage, lovingly constructed from the stems of their crop to provide her a place to ruminate and feel safe without them. Except the noon meal had passed and she hadn’t summoned anyone to free her or even take her to the facilities.

The three of them had joined Cenna to eat and stare at the video feed. Adara remained curled up on her side, her hands tucked beneath her cheek. All that hair veiled her face, but they could hear the sound of her breathing and observe the lift of her torso with each measured breath. She wasn’t sleeping—he knew when she slept. So she was thinking, and not plotting, he hoped. No, not plotting. Something had changed within their intended. He could only hope it was a change for the better.

“We pushed too hard.”

“No, Kellis.” Orion shook his head adamantly. “We met her half way, and she pushed us over that mark, trying to claim our space. She figured out how to manage us within a day. You saw it!”

“I didn’t mind her managing me,” Kellis said morosely. “We were connecting.”

“She was connecting with me as well,” replied Orion. “But she lost sight of that which we are deep down—her Masters. We can’t tolerate any sign of a lack of self worth on her part, and weakening in the face of her discomfort around Cenna played into that. And that’s only a taste of what she’ll pull!”

“I get it, Orion. And we undermined Thorn in the process.”

“Not out loud,” Thorn contributed to the conversation. “But our Adara can spot a weak spot at fifty paces. And I’m tired of being the authority figure around here.”

Two identical faces turned his way and two identical sets of eyes widened. Kellis was the first to speak. “Of course you are, brother. You’ve shouldered the burden for too many years. And we were content to leave you to it. That changes now—it’ll be a struggle sometimes as we sort it through, but we’ll get it done.”

“Adara has already made her mark,” Cenna’s quiet voice asserted. “She completes you like your mother completed your fathers. You can share the burden now, Thorn. And you’ve added to it, if in a good way, so sharing it is a good thing.” She gestured at the monitor.

It was true. Adara had turned their lives upside down, but much good had come of it. Yet Thorn wondered at what cost to Adara. They’d reluctantly returned to their respective tasks, the next move being up to Adara—until he called in to check on her and Cenna relayed the news nothing had changed.

Reflecting on his options, he contacted his brothers to advise them that Adara remained in the cage.

“She can’t stay there all day,” Orion reassured him. “She’ll need the facilities at some point.”

“And if she soils the cage?”

“Then we’ve broken her,” Kellis spoke in a grim voice.

Thorn decided. “We are responsible for her welfare. Something happened this morning within Adara. I hoped…I’ll go and release her.”

“Perhaps Cenna can do it,” Orion suggested.
 

Thorn considered. The idea had merit. “Should she be returned to the cage?”

“Yes.” The twins answered as one.

Thorn called Cenna who accepted the request with alacrity. “See you at dinner,” she advised. “And don’t worry. You all have her best interest at heart.”

Chapter Ten

“Mistress.” The unfamiliar form of address was insistent, and Adara lifted her head to seek the source. Cenna’s old face filled the cage door opening.

“Come, Mistress,” the other woman urged. “Let me help you out.”

Aware of a very pressing need to relieve herself, Adara hitched forward, wincing as the blood returned to her extremities when she uncurled her body. Half crawling, pulling herself along backward over the thin mattress, she felt a work roughened hand grasp her arm and tug her upward. Taking a deep breath, she struggled upright just outside the cage and rested her other hand on it to overcome dizziness brought on by her plethora of thoughts and ensuing feelings—and an empty belly.

Cenna guided her to the bathroom, and she collapsed on the commode with relief. As she went to the sink to wash her hands, avoiding her own face in the mirror, Cenna returned to offer her a towel.

“Drink this, Adara.” A glass was also offered, and she gulped greedily at the juice, wishing there’d been more than half a cup.

“Thank you,” she murmured, handing the glass back, avoiding any eye contact. Her nakedness didn’t matter anymore, but she didn’t think she wanted to read Cenna’s expression.

“Are you hungry?”

“No.” She was, but she wasn’t putting Cenna to any extra effort.

“You need to return to the cage.”

Adara hurried back to her little cell and ducked to enter, curling up on her opposite side.

“Are you cold?” The kindness in Cenna’s voice should have brought tears to her eyes, but she had no more to shed.

“No.” If they wanted her covered—

“Your Masters instructed me to release you to use the facilities, Mistress. They were concerned.”

“Thank you.” There didn’t seem much more to say.

“They’ll be back for you by the evening meal.”

“Thank you.” She hoped she was being polite enough. It didn’t matter when they came. It was their decision. She had no input.

“If you trust them with yourself, things will go much easier, Mistress.” The other woman spoke quietly but firmly.

They’d do what they would with her, and she’d accept it. Trust didn’t come into it although she’d have to trust they wouldn’t cause her irreparable physical harm.

“Thank you.”

Cenna didn’t reply. The gate shut and latched on the cage, and the shuffle of the older woman’s feet receded into the distance. Adara huddled and waited, thinking on the curious title of Mistress. She was hardly Cenna’s Mistress, although she supposed she was the Freestar men’s mistress. Submissive mistress. She turned her thoughts again to obedience and submission.

Her stomach growled and reminded her that breakfast had been a long time ago. No matter. She was hydrated and people lived a long time without food. If Cenna was correct, she’d have dinner. If not she’d be sent to bed without any and probably fucked too. Whatever. A tiny voice buried deep in her brain tried to scream a warning, something about losing herself, but her sense of self was skewed. She wasn’t a cow in their eyes—that she could hang on to. Being a pet was manageable for the next while.

Strange dreams carried her away. The heat and burn of three suns fried her tender skin and the scourge of the sand stripped her to the bone in places. Crawling to the bulk and loom of the red cliffs in the distance seemed insurmountable—each time she looked up at them the sweat dripped into her eyes and made them sting horribly—and the cliffs appeared no closer. Yet she was driven to get there, something beckoning her onwards. When at last she fetched up at the base the suns were sinking and the cold, cold blanket of night descended to freeze her marrow.

“You’ve broken and will rebuild, Adara.” A sage, disembodied voice floated around her head, but her ears were full of sand. She spat, her saliva scant and thick with dust, and she tried to swallow to clear them. “Your destiny is here. You know it. Do not rebuild with the same walls.”

The red cliffs crumbled to dust around her, soft and silky against her abraded skin, cradling her in comfort. Then a figure rose from the debris, black and foreboding, red eyes fixed upon her. She instinctively shuffled backward, the red silt impeding yet gentling her movements as a hand festooned with long, diamond-tipped nails reached for her. The large palm held a profiler and on the display were Elliot, Sammy and her home. It hurt far worse than her ordeal of crawling through the desert to the cliffs, and she screamed out against the emotional onslaught.

“Adara!” The cage shook under three sets of determined hands and big, hard ones caught her hips and yanked her out. She came to rest on Thorn’s thighs as he knelt with her in his grip, tucking her tightly against him.

“I’ll run a bath,” said Kellis.

“I’ll get her something to drink.” The slap of bare feet signaled his retreat.

“What happened, agapi mou?”

Her first instinct was to withhold, but all the hours of thinking pushed her to answer. “I had a dream.”

“Nightmare, more like it,” he said grimly, kissing the top of her head as he rocked her. “Tell me.”

She didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to share and make it more real but did as he said, practice making perfect. When she summed up the events that had shaken her, he was quiet, but she could feel his heart beat faster. Then he got to his feet, never loosing his grip on her.

“You’ll feel better after a bath, Adara. And dinner. We’ll talk about this later.”

“All right.”

Kellis was already in the filling tub, hair soaked from an impromptu shower, if the drips on the floor between it and the tub were any indication. Staring at the floor elicited all kinds of information, much like looking at a room from a child’s level to assess any danger. Her danger was already known to her—she needed to keep practicing to avoid it. Thorn removed the plug, and she thought her back entrance would collapse in on itself, such was the feeling of emptiness.

“You are nearly ready, Adara.”

Her pussy didn’t need any reminder to submit. Her folds dampened at his comment, the dirty thrill of him looking at her there, coupled with his comment, elicited sick arousal. It had to be sick and twisted, but she had to believe they wouldn’t hurt her.

Thorn helped her into the bath with Kellis and left them to it.

Hunched between his widespread legs, Adara sat quietly as he bathed her, lifting her head only when Orion came in to set a cup at her lips, partially full of that amazing juice. It seemed to give her energy and sooth her nerves, jangled from that dream. The twins spoke quietly of their day, sharing comments about how the harvest was coming along and some of the things their farm hands had been up to. Kellis’s hard on poked her in the lower back, a silky yet firm touch. Orion’s cock no doubt was erect too, but neither made a sexual move toward her.

As before, Orion showered her off, ensuring her hair was free of soap, and added a handful of lavender oil to work through the tangles. He let it permeate while he washed himself before rinsing the oil away, talking with her all the time. Adara hoped she smiled and nodded in all the right places, just as she’d done with Kellis, and ignored Orion’s now obvious erection. If they wanted something from her they’d take it—she knew better than to offer.

Thorn pushed past Orion to shower while Kellis dried her off, and she studied his large feet, white against the tile. All of the men sported deep tans where they hadn’t covered up from the suns, although it apparently took years to build up a tolerance. A flash of that dream made her shiver—she’d been burned nearly black. Kellis snuggled her close and rubbed her back until she quit the involuntary movement.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured against her hair.

“Just thinking about the dream.”

“We want to hear about it, my love. Thorn will help you recount it so it doesn’t sit in your head. Sharing with us will cause it to ebb.” Or make it more and more real, she thought but said nothing.

Taking up her hairbrush, Orion once again played lady’s maid, dealing with her hair with his usual aplomb, complimenting her on its thickness and especially the color. Adara didn’t think she’d heard so many ways to describe red hair. Cenna must have been blond in her youth to judge by the very faint strands among the predominantly grey color—and Ronnie had black hair. Maybe there weren’t a lot of redheads on Virile.

Thorn emerged from the shower and the brothers remarked on a few things they needed to address with one of the machines used in the harvest and an issue with the pay system. The latter piqued her interest for a moment before she pushed it down. She wasn’t here for that, and they wouldn’t believe her capable.

“If you’re ready, Adara.” She supposed he could afford the courtesy. If she wasn’t ready then he’d take her with him anyhow.

As she accompanied them to the kitchen she realized there had been no mention of the morning’s events. Well, she wasn’t raising them. Resorting to the superficial once again, she blanked her thoughts. Dinner. Naked dinner but at least she was getting fed.

“How are you, Mistress?” Cenna spoke from the direction of the cooker, and Adara chanced a glance. The other woman was smiling, giving her a level look.

“Fine, thank you.”

“Did you sleep?”

“Yes, thank you.” Thorn stiffened beside her. What had she done? Had she somehow offended? His next words were a relief.

“Adara had a dream that she shared with me. When we came to release her, she was frantic, screaming with terror.”

Screaming with pain. Emotional agony. But it made no real difference.

Instantly, Cenna was at her side, a cool, rough hand at her forehead. “You don’t have a fever, Mistress. But are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine.” Adara tried a smile, and it appeared to work because Cenna backed off.

“Good. Now please sit in. The meal is ready.”

All she had to do was sit on Thorn’s lap and eat what he chose for her, drink what he offered. She drifted between bites and swallows and processed the massive erection against her buttocks and the soothing strokes afforded by both twins who used every opportunity to touch her. They weren’t lewd about it, but she felt the heat behind them. Cenna teased all of the brothers about some of their antics in childhood, but Adara concentrated on the physical sensations. Submitting didn’t mean getting to know them any better insofar as their histories went. Not having to make any choices felt foreign, but she could admit to a strange sense of freedom.

****

“We are retiring early tonight, Cenna.”

“Your security?” Cenna asked the question with apparent carelessness, yet Adara thought it was a strange thing to ask, seeing as the other woman must know this house well, but it really wasn’t any of her concern.

“The perimeter alarms have been changed and improved,” Thorn advised. “All three of us will be with Adara tonight, however, so I’ll set a proximity alarm too. Don’t move about without disarming each section.”

“Agreed.”

“But first I wish Adara to share her dream.”

As Kellis suggested, repeating it shared the experience and it didn’t hold such sway, although the emotional pain at the end still resonated, enough to make her quake. Thorn immediately rubbed her back and quelled her fear. They all asked specific questions, and she remembered more details.

“Few dream of the red cliffs,” Cenna commented. “The cliffs are said to be hidden in the desert, Mistress, appearing once a millennia, and there are tales of them holding treasure. Although I’ve never heard of a black figure among them.”

“I suspect that figure is part and parcel of Adara’s mind,” Thorn replied. “Certainly she feels the loss of her friends and family.”

And my place in the family business, Adara thought, although she wasn’t thinking about it as much, probably because she had just over three more weeks to concentrate on here and couldn’t allow any distractions. Her place there at least was known—a given—and no one could take it from her.

“But the red cliffs crumbled and enveloped her—a good portent.” Cenna sounded upbeat.

“Adara, do you understand about being broken and rebuilding?” Orion tucked a finger under her chin and lifted her face.

“No.”

“Lies, little one,” Thorn reminded her, and her buttocks, still tender from the morning, flinched in sympathy.

Holding Orion’s eyes was difficult but his grip on her chin didn’t waver. She drew from his calm resolve. “You have forced me to give in, to submit, and I was warned not to go back to the old Adara.”