second and then dropped his eyes to the floor, only to raise it again in defiance.
If she didn't know better, she'd think he was reluctantly drawn to her dominance, not her body. She had to hide her shock. Nothing in the files mentioned any submissive tendencies in Zevon at all.
She glanced at Christophe and found he was still focused on her boots. He was completely under her spell, and she hadn't even cast it yet. This was new.
But Andia adjusted to this new behavior. They were criminals, weren't they? Yalani's words intruded on her thoughts. Damn the council.
"You know who I am,” she said, keeping her voice hard and clear.
Zevon, of course, was the one who answered. “We know."
Time to teach this one a lesson. Carefully, drawing his gaze to her, she stepped closer until her mouth was a breath away from his. He pressed his lips together, and he scrutinized her moist mouth so close she knew her hot breath caressed his skin.
His cock brushed her hip. She had him right where she wanted him. “You don't know, slave."
His breath hitched, a sound she usually didn't hear from a prisoner for a long time. So fast. His eyelids drooped, and his hands flexed in the cuffs. Interesting. His body was in conflict, revealing a mind in conflict.
Zevon Maco was no simple dominant. She wanted to test it. “Do you know what I am, slave?” she asked in a low purr.
He didn't answer but licked his lips. She slid her hands up the sides of his chest and moved until her fingers rested on his nipples. His eyes were still half-closed, glittering with something more powerful than lust.
Abruptly and without warning, she twisted his erect nipples, using controlled strength to create pain. His response was...arousing. He hissed, but his hips bucked against hers.
"Answer me, slave,” she snapped and continued to twist his flesh.
"N-n-no,” he stuttered.
She dug her fingernails into his skin. “No, what?"
His gaze jerked to hers. “No...Mistress,” he said finally.
"I am your whole world,” she said quietly. His harsh gasps made his chest rise and fall rapidly. Under her hands, his heart beat fast, and his skin flushed.
She released him, and he shuddered, his expression volcanic with suppressed emotion. Pain. The key to Zevon was pain. He loved it. Andia shot a look at Christophe and stopped to stare.
The other man was focused on her and Zevon, his hungry expression making his features tight. His cock strained away from his belly, and his whole body was still, anticipating, watching.
When she stepped back from Zevon, he jerked against his restraints. Andia tried to cover her disturbed mental state.
This had been her job for twenty years, but she'd never experienced such a heady sensation of power. Never. The men she'd dealt with had resisted and fought her, just as Zevon did now. But none of them had inspired the arousal that both men caused within her.
Christophe's clear, immediate surrender mixed with Zevon's struggle to resist her when he obviously didn't want to was a powerful elixir. Her pussy throbbed, wanting and needing what they seemed to offer.
Guilty men didn't act this way. The men convicted by the council didn't respond to her demands like this. Her thoughts whirled even as she picked up her favorite toy of choice for initiation.
Most Mistresses, she knew, used pain, a cat-o'-nine-tails or a shockstick to gain the capitulation of their subjects. Andia believed that pleasure—and the withdrawal of it—was the key.
Her cherished item was a cock harness, specially made for her use. Black leather with metal spikes, it not only kept a man from release, it dug into his tender flesh, combining the pain and the pleasure she allowed.
When she stepped closer to Christophe, she noted Zevon tensed. Her hands were sure and efficient, strapping Christophe's leaking cock inside the harness. She tightened it, the straps and spikes digging into his flesh.
To her surprise, he moaned and dropped his chin. She lifted his chin
If she didn't know better, she'd think he was reluctantly drawn to her dominance, not her body. She had to hide her shock. Nothing in the files mentioned any submissive tendencies in Zevon at all.
She glanced at Christophe and found he was still focused on her boots. He was completely under her spell, and she hadn't even cast it yet. This was new.
But Andia adjusted to this new behavior. They were criminals, weren't they? Yalani's words intruded on her thoughts. Damn the council.
"You know who I am,” she said, keeping her voice hard and clear.
Zevon, of course, was the one who answered. “We know."
Time to teach this one a lesson. Carefully, drawing his gaze to her, she stepped closer until her mouth was a breath away from his. He pressed his lips together, and he scrutinized her moist mouth so close she knew her hot breath caressed his skin.
His cock brushed her hip. She had him right where she wanted him. “You don't know, slave."
His breath hitched, a sound she usually didn't hear from a prisoner for a long time. So fast. His eyelids drooped, and his hands flexed in the cuffs. Interesting. His body was in conflict, revealing a mind in conflict.
Zevon Maco was no simple dominant. She wanted to test it. “Do you know what I am, slave?” she asked in a low purr.
He didn't answer but licked his lips. She slid her hands up the sides of his chest and moved until her fingers rested on his nipples. His eyes were still half-closed, glittering with something more powerful than lust.
Abruptly and without warning, she twisted his erect nipples, using controlled strength to create pain. His response was...arousing. He hissed, but his hips bucked against hers.
"Answer me, slave,” she snapped and continued to twist his flesh.
"N-n-no,” he stuttered.
She dug her fingernails into his skin. “No, what?"
His gaze jerked to hers. “No...Mistress,” he said finally.
"I am your whole world,” she said quietly. His harsh gasps made his chest rise and fall rapidly. Under her hands, his heart beat fast, and his skin flushed.
She released him, and he shuddered, his expression volcanic with suppressed emotion. Pain. The key to Zevon was pain. He loved it. Andia shot a look at Christophe and stopped to stare.
The other man was focused on her and Zevon, his hungry expression making his features tight. His cock strained away from his belly, and his whole body was still, anticipating, watching.
When she stepped back from Zevon, he jerked against his restraints. Andia tried to cover her disturbed mental state.
This had been her job for twenty years, but she'd never experienced such a heady sensation of power. Never. The men she'd dealt with had resisted and fought her, just as Zevon did now. But none of them had inspired the arousal that both men caused within her.
Christophe's clear, immediate surrender mixed with Zevon's struggle to resist her when he obviously didn't want to was a powerful elixir. Her pussy throbbed, wanting and needing what they seemed to offer.
Guilty men didn't act this way. The men convicted by the council didn't respond to her demands like this. Her thoughts whirled even as she picked up her favorite toy of choice for initiation.
Most Mistresses, she knew, used pain, a cat-o'-nine-tails or a shockstick to gain the capitulation of their subjects. Andia believed that pleasure—and the withdrawal of it—was the key.
Her cherished item was a cock harness, specially made for her use. Black leather with metal spikes, it not only kept a man from release, it dug into his tender flesh, combining the pain and the pleasure she allowed.
When she stepped closer to Christophe, she noted Zevon tensed. Her hands were sure and efficient, strapping Christophe's leaking cock inside the harness. She tightened it, the straps and spikes digging into his flesh.
To her surprise, he moaned and dropped his chin. She lifted his chin
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