“I understand,” she said gently. “I feel the same way about such…penetration, as you know.”
“I know.” He took a deep breath and seemed to shake off the strange mood that had come over him. “Which is why it surprised me that you didn’t mind wearing a phallus.”
“What are you talking about? It just straps on. I mean—”
“Good morrow, my lovely lady. And how did you sleep?”
The deep, smooth voice belonged to Lord X who had somehow managed to creep up behind them without either Trin or Thrace noticing him, despite the big black boots he wore.
Trin whirled around, feeling her heart pound for some reason. She really didn’t like this male though she could give no actual reason for her emotions. A low growl from Thrace let her know he felt the same.
“Oh, forgive me—did I startle you?” Lord X smiled unconvincingly—the expression never reached those strange red-black eyes of his.
“No, we’re fine,” Trin said quickly. “Good morning.”
“Good morrow,” he repeated in that odd way of his. “You’re looking very well this morning, may I say.” Taking her hand, he bowed low over it. He was about to kiss it but Thrace grabbed her wrist and jerked her hand away before he could.
“No one touches my lady but me,” he growled.
“Is that right? A pity—I so wanted to taste her soft skin.” Lord X smiled. “May I at least inquire as to how you slept last night, my lady?” he asked Trin.
“Oh…well. Very well indeed,” she said. She knew she ought to reprove Thrace for yanking her hand away but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She was too relieved not to be touching Lord X to summon any rebuke for the big Havoc.
“Really?” He raised one glossy black eyebrow. “No…bad dreams? No nightmares at all?”
“Of course no—” Trin started to say but the words died on her lips. There was a knowing glint in those cold, red-black eyes. Lord X knew about the horrible dream she’d had last night. But how? Had he been watching them in the private viewing room as well as Lady Tam-tam? The very thought made her feel ill. Apparently Thrace picked up on the idea as well.
“What do you know about it?” he demanded, stepping forward so that he was face to face with the other male. “What do you know about my lady’s night terrors last night?”
“Night terrors you say?” Lord X appeared not the least intimidated. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and made a tsking sound. “My, my—that sounds dreadful. I am so sorry to hear of it, my Lady,” he said to Trin.
“I said, what do you know about it?” Thrace barked.
“Why, nothing but what you’ve just told me.” Lord X raised both hands in a sign of peace. “Forgive me, but I think I see Lady Tam-tam motioning to me. Mustn’t keep our lovely hostess waiting.” With a final knowing smirk, he glided off, his large muscular body moving as smoothly as if he was on wheels.
“That bastard,” Thrace growled, glaring after him. “He knew. Somehow he knew!”
“But how?” Trin asked. “Do you think he could have been watching us? Lady Malroth said that Lady Tam-tam never allows anyone else inside her private viewing room but—”
“Private viewing room?” Thrace interrupted, his eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” Trin said shortly. “It shouldn’t be a surprise, we knew she, uh, liked to watch.” She dropped her voice, making it for his ears only. “Where did you think she was watching from?”
Thrace shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t expect her to have a whole room devoted to it.” He sighed. “All right. Well, then I guess we should go collect your phallus.”
“I guess we should.” Trin grimaced. This was sure to be embarrassing. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to wear some huge, ridiculous, golden, engraved rod between her thighs for everyone to see. But it sounded like the kind of thing Lady Tam-Tam would require so she’d better get used to the idea.
“Honestly,” she said to Thrace in a low tone as they crossed the vast dining area to where the male slave was sitting in a corner behind a long table. “Speaking of the private viewing room, I’m more worried about the other part of Lady Malroth’s demand than the fact that I have to wear a stupid phallus.”
“What did she say? I only caught the last part,” he murmured, bending his head so they could talk more discretely.
“She said that our ‘performance’ last night didn’t please Lady Tam-tam.” Trin felt herself blushing again. “I mean…can you imagine? After everything we did she’s still not satisfied?”
“All I did was suck your nipples a little and rub your pussy,” Thrace remarked mildly. “Well, and pay obeisance to you with a few kisses. But if she’s used to seeing hard core performances from the likes of Lady Needra and Yorth, it’s probably not surprising that we didn’t please her.”
“Well what we did felt pretty ‘hard core’ to me,” Trin whispered back, her face flushing. “I never dreamed I’d do anything like that with a male. And yet I let you…let you…”
“You let me ease your pain and need,” Thrace reminded her in a soft growl. “Don’t start feeling guilty about it again, Trin. It was necessary.”
“I guess so.” Trin bit her lip. “It’s just…I never expected to do anything like that—you know.”
“I know.” Thrace’s face remained impassive. “Quiet now though—here we are.”
They had arrived in front of the table where she was to pick up her “uniform” for the evening’s feast. There was a male slave in Lady Tam-tam’s purple and orange livery sitting at it. Spread across the table in orderly rows were little velvet bags in different colors. He seemed to have some kind of system for keeping track of them because he was entering information on a lighted implant imbedded in his left forearm.
“Good morning,” Thrace said, addressing the slave who was typing rapidly on his left forearm with his right hand. “My lady Trin needs…ah equipment for tonight’s feast.”
“Forgot your phallus, did you?” The slave looked up from his tapping. “What size do you need?”
“Um…what sizes do you have?” Trin asked. She had a mental image of being forced to walk around with an improbably huge rod strapped to her crotch—probably the bigger it was, the greater the wearer’s status. How awful! “I mean, most likely the smallest but—”
“All right, my lady. It’s not uncommon for a mistress not to know her size.” The slave nodded at Thrace. “Come on—let’s see what you’ve got.”
“What do you want him to do?” Trin asked blankly. “How can he tell you what I should use?”
“Well he can’t really tell me. But he can show me, if you know what I mean.” The slave winked at her in a way that made Trin most uncomfortable. “I mean, we all know how mistresses aren’t supposed to allow their love-slaves to penetrate them. And yet somehow the size of the slave’s cock is almost always the size phallus she needs. So come on—let’s see it.” He reached across the table and twitched the black loin cloth that covered Thrace’s shaft to one side. What he saw made him give a long, low whistle. “Well, extra-extra large it is, then, Mistress.”
“Hey! Hands to yourself, you bastard!” Thrace made a snatch for his wrist but the slave was too quick. He was back across the table and pulling open a black velvet bag before Thrace could catch him.
“Here we are, my lady. One extra-extra large phallus for your pleasure to wear at the Feast of Male Submission tonight.”
He drew a shining metal contraption out of the bag and handed it to her. Trin turned it this way and that—at first her eyes couldn’t make sense of it. It appeared to be two long shafts attached in the middle with a bumpy gold disk.
“I don’t understand,” she said examining the gleaming, curved surfaces. One end was clearly ornamental—it was smooth and gold with fine markings drawn in red and black on its shiny surface. It was fairly slim and very sleek and stylish—if such an implement could be labeled stylish, that was. The other end, however, looked like it was meant to be all business. It was thicker than Trin’s wrist and deep scarlet, made of some shiny material as dark as blood. “What is this?” Trin asked, frowning as she examined both ends.