Mastering Marissa Page 2
Despite her decision, she tried to find out more about the planet. Mystery shrouded Darinth. She couldn’t find any educational vids, just sensational ones like Shelley had seen and of course, the famed sex vids. She and Shelley had rented some.
The vids reinforced her decision. Marissa had never realized there were so many ways to hurt a female body. The women screamed in pain, while the men laughed and intensified their assaults. The vids nauseated and sickened Marissa—they brought back memories of her mother’s hell.
The next time her father invited her to Darinth, Marissa shook her head. “I’ve seen the vids. I won’t go to Darinth.”
“The vids?” He frowned. “You mean the ones we export?”
Marissa nodded.
Her father’s face lightened and his lips twitched as if fighting off a smile. He waved a hand, saying, “Those vids are simply to make money. They don’t represent us at all. They cater to the prurient interests of the rest of the galaxy.”
“They were horrible.”
“Yes, they are but they don’t accurately portray our customs. If you’ve been watching those vids, I certainly understand your fear. If you really want to know about Darinthian customs, I’ll send you some local vids, the ones we watch.”
Marissa didn’t respond to his offer. She cringed at the idea of her own father sending her sex vids.
Her father searched her face for another moment, finally saying, “Our sexual practices are not shameful. They are integral to our culture and worthy of respect.” Then, changing the subject, he told her another story about a relative she’d never met.
Marissa forgot her father’s offer until a package arrived.
Chapter Two
“I won’t watch a woman’s enslavement,” Marissa told Davo the next time they spoke.
“Marissa, you know nothing of our customs. I’ve dealt with many off-worlders. I know how they view our practices. I know about the rumors. We let those rumors circulate unanswered because our customs are sacred, not fodder for common discussion. Watch the vid and learn. Or would you rather judge us based on gossip?”
Marissa didn’t answer him, but all the next day, his question troubled her. Was she judging Darinth unfairly? He’d called their practices sacred, but that didn’t make them right. She spent the evening casting numerous glances at the package she’d thrown in a corner. She wanted to trash it but her inherent fairness wouldn’t let her. She sighed. She had to play the vid. She owed her father a chance to justify his customs. She picked up the package. Breaking the seals, she inserted it into her vid player.
The vid opened with a naked woman chained against a wall. A silvery steel collar circled her throat. Her arms stretched straight up and the same silvery metal fastened around her wrists, holding them tight. On her tiptoes, her legs spread wide and held by more of the silvery metal. Her shaved pubis revealed her glistening cunt. It was obscene.
Marissa reached for the control to flick off the vid when a man moved into view. Her breath caught at his rugged masculinity and she forgot about turning the vid off as his image seared into her brain.
His cock thrust nearly to his waist. Larger than any she’d ever seen, she clenched her thighs as she imagined being penetrated by such a weapon and held in his strong arms.
He towered over the chained woman. But the visual didn’t frighten Marissa, she was too captivated by his soft expression. A hint of a smile played at his lips and humor glinted in his eyes as he asked, “Are you ready?”
Her glistening lips parted into a needy pout. “More than ready. I need you,” she said in a sultry voice. “I need you now, please just take me.”
His face burst into a full-blown smile. “Not quite yet, darling.”
Marissa’s body heated as she wondered what he’d do to the vulnerable woman spread open before him. She didn’t have long to wait for an answer.
The man reached out and gently captured the woman’s breasts, carefully leaving her nipples free. Marissa could see his small movements, massaging the breasts in his strong fingers, forearms flexing with each movement. The woman’s nipples filled, stretching out as if begging for a touch. But the man ignored them.
What it would be like to be helpless in that man’s hands? He obviously knew how to arouse a woman. No wonder the woman quickly progressed to screams of need, begging the man to satisfy her.
Marissa wanted to turn off the vid, but the man held her as easily as he held his prisoner. Molten heat raced through Marissa’s veins, in time with her heart, as moisture seeped from her aching pussy. Riveted, she watched the entire vid.
Not once did he hurt the woman. Not once did he do anything other than pleasure her. The man teased and caressed his helpless victim until she was squirming and begging. The woman’s pleading escalated, becoming one long demand for release.
The man laughed at the woman’s pleading, telling her, “Darling, we’ve barely started.” He tortured her by ignoring her exhortations. Repeatedly he brought her near her peak and denied her final release.
Marissa didn’t think she could stand to watch the woman’s frustration any longer, when the man finally made a quick flicking motion directly on the woman’s clit. The resulting orgasm tightened every muscle in the woman’s body and it seemed to go on forever.
The second time Marissa watched the vid her hand crept to her burning clit. Using a fingertip, she tapped on the erect nub and squirmed under her own ministrations as she wished she wasn’t alone. Her orgasm washed over her in a quick flash. Too quick. It wasn’t until the third viewing that Marissa delayed her own satisfaction. Holding off wasn’t just frustrating. It intensified her own pleasure, much as it had intensified the captive woman’s pleasure.
None of the men Marissa knew could or would do those things to her. She’d never met a man satisfied to hold off on his own pleasure while he concentrated on hers. The vids didn’t just excite her—they also disturbed her. The women gave up control to earn their satisfaction. And that fact cooled Marissa’s ardor. No man controlled her.
The next time her father called, he asked about the vid.
Marissa, angry at her arousal, spit out, “I watched it.”
“What did you think of it?”
Marissa shook her head, firmly keeping her face impassive unable to prevent the heat in her cheeks.
Her father eyed her closely. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. That was a public vid though, broadcast just last month. Sex is freely discussed on Darinth, but I do understand your customs are very different.” Then, thankfully, he changed the subject.
But the next week another vid arrived.
Marissa wanted to scream in frustration. How could she watch another vid of a woman having sex? She wanted to throw it out, along with the haunting idea of Darinthian sex. It must be fiction. The vids couldn’t possibly depict real sexual acts. Men like that just didn’t exist, she told herself firmly, even as she gave in and started the vid.
This one opened with a woman tied to a table. Multiple straps crossed her extremities, with one wide strap at her waist and a smaller one circling her throat. The special table that had split supports for the woman’s thighs. The supports angled wide, allowing a close camera shot of the woman’s gaping lower lips. She glistened with moisture despite the harsh-looking clamp that held the woman’s clit erect.
Marissa cringed at the sight of the clamp and wondered how the woman stood the pain. The clamp didn’t seem at all erotic but the woman’s pussy dripped with arousal. Was the woman a masochist? Did she get off on pain?
The camera panned over the woman, slowly, as if it were a hand caressing her. Marissa saw matching clamps on the woman’s nipples, nipples that were gloriously erect just waiting for a touch.
Marissa didn’t stop to think before pinching her own nipples. It hurt. How could the woman stand the clamps?
Gagged and blindfolded, this woman was obviously more helpless than the last. At least the woman in the previous vid had been able to scream ou
t her need.
Once again, Marissa was just reaching out to turn the vid off when a man entered.
This man was fully dressed in loose-fitting pants and a red sleeveless tunic. Despite his clothes, Marissa saw that he was every bit as powerful as the man in the last vid. He moved with the same masculine grace and control too. He walked to the woman’s side and stood over her. His hand trailed along her abdomen, ignoring the clamps and the begging nipples. The woman’s moan was loud, despite the gag in her mouth.
A violent longing rushed through Marissa and just for an instant, she imagined herself to be that woman, helpless under the man’s touch.
Marissa nearly exploded with need as the man teased the woman, forcing her close to the peak then pulling her back—controlling her arousal as easily as he controlled her body.
Marissa’s finger crept down to her slit. She sighed with pleasure as her fingers delved into her moist heat. She tried to hold off, to wait for the woman, but she just didn’t have the patience or discipline to ignore her needs. She exploded once and then again when the man ripped the clamps off the woman and the woman arched in ecstasy.
The next day, she cringed in memory. Wasn’t there something perverted in her father sending her this kind of vid? He said it was a public broadcast. She shook her head. Just how different were Darinthian customs?
Even more uncomfortable was the fact the vids fascinated her. The vids should horrify her. These women were helpless even if they didn’t seem like victims, even if they appeared excited and happy under a man’s control. How could they surrender like that?
Marissa didn’t understand why the vids aroused her to a fevered pitch of need. She’d lusted before but never anything like this. She hadn’t known she could be so aroused and that was just by watching. What would happen if she surrendered to a man like that? What was she thinking? She’d never surrender to one of those men. But the vids captivated her and she kept watching.
She watched the vid again and again, pleasing herself, but still aching with need. Masturbation didn’t satisfy her. She felt empty and unlike the women in the vids, she felt unloved. Maybe she’d just been too long without sex.
The next night, she debated calling an ex-boyfriend. He’d never held off though and despite his gentleness, he’d never really satisfied her. Why bother? She turned back to the two vids, unable to resist their allure.
She didn’t know how much longer she could hold out against her father’s exhortations to visit the planet. Not that she’d necessarily have sex with a Darinthian male, she told herself. Her desire to visit the planet had nothing to do with sex.
She wanted to meet her family. That was the only reason she’d consider such a trip. Besides, her father had repeatedly told her she’d be safe. She trusted him, didn’t she? Still Marissa hesitated.
Then the third vid arrived.
The third vid was even more erotic than the first two. Marissa’s brain jangled as she tried to reconcile the woman’s blissful response to pain with her own horror of it. Marissa, witness to too much of her stepfather’s cruelty, was certain that pain was a bad thing. But the woman’s reaction stuck in her head. Clearly, the woman in the vid didn’t feel that pain was bad.
No actress could fake the screaming orgasm that had bowed her back into a rigid arch. The woman liked pain. That much was obvious.
Marissa wanted to be angry. She wanted to say the woman was a slave, an abused slave, yet, how could she dismiss the clenching ache she felt as she’d watched the man’s strong arm slash down with the crop and listened to the woman’s moans?
Each slash left a red line on the woman’s ass, until it bloomed into a flowering pattern of red, pink and white. Moisture dripped down the woman’s thigh and Marissa’s own heat rose. A secret part of her wondered how she’d perform in the same situation.
The man’s face was riveting. Intent on the woman, oblivious to his own arousal, he focused entirely on his partner’s responses. Marissa saw his concern when he finished the woman’s beating. Every line of his body spoke of love not anger.
Marissa was still flushed with desire when she heard her comm chime. She took a few deep breaths, stilling her racing heart before moving to answer it.
Her father took one look at her face and said, “Did I interrupt something?”
Marissa’s jaw tightened. How could he tell so easily? Fighting embarrassment, she said, “Stop sending the vids.”
He shrugged and smiled, “I’m not forcing you to watch them. But now you’ve seen how Darinthian males cherish their females, how can you still be afraid to visit?”
Marissa closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Her heart raced as she asked, “You mean it never goes beyond what the vids show? That’s not what is said about Darinth.”
Her father shrugged again. “Some males might go further but never without their companion’s consent. Every male cares for his companion. Along with domination comes responsibility. Can’t you see the men’s concern for their companions?”
“Women are not property. They wouldn’t need care if the men weren’t abusing them.”
“You really think what you’ve seen is abuse?”
Marissa hesitated as a vivid image of a woman pleading for more pain flashed into her mind, accompanied by the woman’s screams of ecstasy.
“What you’ve seen is a sacred rite on Darinth, an expression of sexual compatibility, not abuse.”
“Sacred rite?”
“The vids show various binding rituals.”
“Sex is a religion?”
“Not quite, but definitely sacred to us.”
“And it’s public? That’s too creepy!”
“Aren’t most sacred ceremonies public? We all rejoice in the binding.”
Marissa stared at the vid screen. Her father seemed angry with her, but his beliefs were wrong. “I can’t, I won’t do those things.”
Her father sighed and his anger—if that’s what it was—leaked away. “You don’t have to do anything. You’ll be under my protection. You’ll be safe. You never need experience any sex on Darinth if you choose not to.”
Marissa didn’t answer, stunned by the flash of disappointment that flooded her at his words. She realized that a part of her wanted to submit, to test her will and explore her needs. How could she want to be a slave? She cringed, her cheeks flooding with warmth.
“No male can do anything without your permission,” he continued.
“But according to planetary law, my presence on the planet is permission,” she said, fighting her response to the vids.
Her father sighed. “Marissa, you’re my daughter. I yearn to kiss your cheek and hug you. We’ve lost so much over the years. Please don’t deny us time together because you’re afraid of something that might not ever happen. Besides, your mother survived her experiences on the planet. You told me she left you a letter and that she wanted you to visit. Will you ignore her wishes?”
There was that, mused Marissa.
Before she could frame a reply, her father continued, “Marissa, I want to meet you. But as I’ve told you, there are always challenges to power and our family is one of the most powerful on the planet. I am the dominant male in our family. Dominants never leave the planet. Doing so would leave the family vulnerable to attack. I simply cannot walk away from my duties and responsibilities. Surely, you understand.”
Marissa did understand. She admired her father for his stand. If she had a family, she’d do anything to protect them too. He’d told her of her half-brothers, half-sisters, uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces and cousins. The thought of meeting and belonging ate at her control.
A whole family was waiting to welcome her, if only she could overcome her fears. She admitted she was lonely. On Darinth, she would not be alone. Her mother’s last wish was that Marissa visit the planet. Could she ignore that wish?
How had her mother survived Darinth? Marissa didn’t have the answer to that question but if her mother had survived then she could too, could
n’t she?
“Please come for a visit. I will keep you safe,” Davo said.
Her thoughts tangled in a confused web of desire and longing. She knew the only way to untangle them was to visit the planet. She felt no desire to continue refusing. She wanted to meet Davo, in person. She needed to touch him and feel him. “I’ll visit if you promise I’ll be safe,” she said, giving up her fight.
“Just wait for me in the arrival area. Don’t pass customs without me. Then you’ll be under my protection and I’ll keep you safe.”
* * * * *
Preparations for the trip took a few weeks. She had plenty of vacation time, so that wasn’t a problem. Packing and travel plans were easily made. Overcoming Shelley’s concerns had not been so easy though.
Shelley hadn’t supported Marissa’s decision to visit Darinth. Indeed, she’d been loud and vocal in her opposition to the trip.
“Marissa,” she said, “they’ll make you a slave! How can you agree to walk into such a situation?”
Marissa frowned down at her suitcase. Her decision made, she wasn’t going to change her mind now. “My father has guaranteed my safety. They won’t make me a slave.”
Shelley frowned at Marissa’s back. “I’ve talked to some men who’ve been to Darinth. They said they’d never seen such submissive females. They told me some of the things the men ordered women to do and that the women obeyed without question. Marissa, they whipped women and the women begged for more.” Shelley shook her head, red curls flying. “You’re too independent for a place like Darinth. The men there are serious about domination. Besides, if anything goes wrong, I won’t be able to help you,” Shelley continued her theme of warning.
Finally, Marissa yelled, “Enough! That’s enough! I am going. My father wants to see me and I want to see him. I want to meet the family I never knew I had. My father promised to keep me safe and I believe him. I’m going.”