It was strange and troubling to feel so out of control of his actions, to be unable to suppress his hidden desires. Saber shook his head. He hoped fervently that their ride over the trench would be their first and last encounter with the strange Dream Gas.
“We’re almost there.” Llewelyn’s dry voice interrupted his inner musings. “We’re late, though. My mistress will be most displeased with me.” He indicated the chronometer at the front of the hovercar, which stood at fifteen past. His rough voice sounded angry, as though the lateness was their fault.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lissa said at once. “We should have hurried more, Llewelyn. I hope you won’t get into too much trouble.”
The ambassador’s body-slave cast a surprised glance over his shoulder. “Oh no, little mistress—the fault is mine. And even if it wasn’t, a female never begs the pardon of a male. At least, not here on Yonnie Six.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “But perhaps you do things differently on Zetta Prime?”
“Of course not.” Lissa’s pale face went red. “I, uh, I just mean I don’t want to upset the ambassador.”
“Never fear about that,” Llewelyn said darkly, facing front again. “It’s not you Lady Sha’rak will be upset with.”
“I see,” Lissa mumbled and sat back in her seat. She shot Saber a quick, uncertain glance and then looked down at her hands. But though she had barely looked at him, he had read the fear and self-doubt in her lovely eyes. She was worried about betraying their true identities—what Kat had called “blowing their cover”—by her unconventional actions and words. He wished fiercely that he dared to hold her hand. He wanted to entwine his fingers with hers and give her a reassuring squeeze. Wanted to send her some signal that everything would be all right. But of course, that was impossible. He had to keep his distance.
With a sigh, he stared out the window at the busy streets of Opulex whizzing by. They appeared to be moving through an incredibly crowded urban area. Tall buildings stood shoulder to shoulder with scarcely any space between them, their long shadows casting the city into gloom. Or they would have, if every available surface wasn’t covered in glowing signs. Saber saw every imaginable service and product being offered for sale, including several that were considered illegal, immoral, and impossible on his home world. Body Modification, read one glowing sign. Make your mistress proud. Another proclaimed, Need more to satisfy her? We can give you three extra inches and girth to match. Low cost, minimal pain.
Other, similar signs sped past in a blur of light until Saber stopped trying to read them. Instead, he concentrated on the pedestrians he saw on the broad sidewalks. There were many richly dressed females, always accompanied by at least one and often several body-slaves. The males were dressed as he was, with tight black pants and bare chests. Most of them wore collars and leashes around their necks although a few had some other device that resembled a spiked necklace with glowing purple lights instead.
For some reason the body-slaves wearing these odd necklaces followed even closer to their mistresses and appeared even more abjectly humble than the ones wearing leashes. Saber didn’t know why but the sight made the pit of his stomach cold. What in the seven hells was going on in this Goddess forsaken city?
Before he could get an answer to his question, Llewelyn turned the hovercar sharply and aimed right for the side of one of the huge buildings. Saber threw a protective arm across Lissa, a shout rising in his throat. But just at the last moment, part of the mirrored side of the building rose, creating a gap just big enough for the car to pass through.
“Thought I was going to ram it, didn’t you?” The body-slave threw a sardonic glance over his shoulder as they drove in and the building shut behind them. “Not a chance. My lady will punish me for getting you here late but that’s nothing to what she’d do if I wrecked her precious hovercar.”
Saber frowned, a growl rising in his throat. He liked the ambassador’s body-slave less and less and his urge to pound the insolent male was growing by the minute. It was an urge he reined in with effort—he hadn’t spent years perfecting his self-control to lose it with this imbecile.
“Um…Saber?” Lissa’s voice was slightly breathless and he became aware that his arm was still thrown protectively across her, pressing against the soft mounds of her breasts. In fact, one side of her dress had slipped open and the creamy curve of her right breast and the pink point of her nipple had popped into view.
Goddess! The sight made Saber instantly hard.
“Forgive me.” He pulled his arm back as though he’d been stung. “I was just trying…I mean, I thought we were going to crash.”
“Of course.” Her face was red as she adjusted her dress and Saber thought his own must be as well.
Llewelyn turned his head and gave them both a curious gaze. “Are the both of you well?” He frowned at Saber. “You act like you’ve never touched your mistress before. Don’t you service her on a regular basis?”
Saber cleared his throat. “Of course I do. I mean—”
“We’re here,” the body-slave interrupted, pulling the long black hovercar into an empty spot by a bank of elevators. “Come on, we need to get you up to my mistress’s floor at once. We’re late enough as it is.”
He jumped out of the car and held the door for Saber and Lissa. Saber climbed out first and held out a hand to Lissa. After a long moment of hesitation, which caused Llewelyn to look at them oddly, she took it and allowed him to help her out.
“Should I carry you, mistress?” Saber asked stiffly. “Your feet are bare and the pavement may be rough.” He indicated the gray tarmac beneath his feet.
Lissa went red again. “I, uh, no thank you, Saber. It’s not far to the elevators.” She glanced at Llewelyn. “Um, if that’s where we’re going?”
He nodded proudly. “Of course. My lady owns the entire top floor of this building—which isn’t something many can say.” He frowned. “But you really should let your body-slave carry you, little mistress. It isn’t proper for a lady of your rank and distinction to let her bare feet touch the floor.”
“Oh, is that the custom here?” Lissa asked nervously. “It’s, uh, different on Zetta Prime. We go barefoot there all the time.”
Llewelyn’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? That’s not what I’ve heard.” He frowned. “Do you not enjoy your slave’s touch? If he isn’t to your liking, I’m sure my mistress can assign one of her own lesser body-slaves to you while you’re here. She won’t mind—she has dozens.”
“No!” Lissa went pale. “I mean, no thank you. Please don’t mention any such idea to her. I…I want no other male to touch me but Saber.”
“Really? You could have fooled me—you jump a mile every time he lays a hand on you.” He bowed. “If you’ll forgive me for saying so, little mistress.”
“I…um…” It was clear Lissa was at a loss for what to say. Saber wanted to help her but he couldn’t think of any plausible explanation to give for why he and Lissa jumped like they’d been burned the moment they touched either.
We’re not doing a very good job of this so far, he thought grimly. If we can’t even fool a body-slave, how are we going to fool the ambassador herself or any of the other important collectors we have to approach to find the missing scrolls? We have to start acting our parts much better than we have been if we want to escape detection and get what we came for.
Wordlessly, he scooped Lissa into his arms and, to her credit, she didn’t protest. But she didn’t give any indication of enjoying his touch either. Instead, she went completely rigid, just as she had when he carried her through the mud. It hurt Saber’s heart to see the frozen expression on her face and feel the tension in her slender body as he held her. Just once he wished he could feel her relax in his arms, just once he wished to see pleasure in her face when he touched her, not fear.
Forget it, he told himself roughly. It’s not going to happen. Still, she needed to loosen up a little if they were going to get through this ruse intact. Saber resolved to talk to h
er about it later when they had some privacy—whenever that might be.
* * * * *
Lissa held herself stiff as Saber carried her toward the bank of elevators. She knew what they were, from talking to her Earth friends, though the idea of a small box that took one from floor to floor had been a foreign one back when she lived on First World. This would be her first ride in one, however, and she was anxious to see what it was like. Maybe the sensation of being magically lifted into the air would take her mind off the feeling of Saber’s warm arms around her. It was hard to be so close to him and not let herself react but she forced herself to stay rigid.
The golden doors slid open, revealing a plush, pink lined box that reminded Lissa of the inside of a box of fancy chocolates. Kat had shared some of the Earth treats with her—just the memory made her mouth water.
Llewelyn went in first and held the doors open so that Saber could carry her in. He entered silently, being careful not to bump her head, and then stood stolidly as the ambassador’s body-slave pressed one of the buttons.
The elevator rose quickly with a soft humming sound and, almost before Lissa knew it, the shiny gold doors were sliding open again to reveal a richly appointed entry hall.
“This way,” Llewelyn led the way down the hallway, which was lined with holo-portraits of formidable looking females. Each of the females were wearing elegant but revealing outfits and their eyes seemed to follow Lissa down the hall, staring in mute accusation.
We see through you, they seemed to whisper. We know what you truly are…a fake. A fraud. An imposter. You don’t belong here. Leave while you still can…
Stop it! Lissa shivered and turned away.
“Are you all right, amalla?” Saber murmured under his breath. “You seem upset.”
“I’m fine.” Lissa risked a glance up at him but seeing his changeable hazel eyes, so filled with concern, was too much for her and she had to look away again. “Fine,” she repeated, wishing it was true.
At last they reached the end of the hallway and Llewelyn threw open a pair of tall wooden doors, carved with strange alien faces. Beyond the doors was a room filled with billowing silk curtains in every shade of blue.
Just like the streaks in the ambassador’s hair, Lissa thought. And just as she did, the curtains parted enough for her to see Ambassador Sha’rak herself standing at the center of the room.
“My Lady Sha’rak, ambassador of Yonnie Six, owner of the top floor of the Barad building and favorite of the Empress Kallis,” Llewelyn intoned gravely, making a sweeping gesture toward her.
“Welcome.” The ambassador smiled sweetly and waited while Saber made his way through the billowing silk panels to stand in front of her, still holding Lissa. “It’s lovely to have you here in my home,” she added, smiling at Lissa and ignoring Saber completely.
“Oh, uh, thank you.” Lissa struggled a little. “Put me down,” she whispered to Saber.
He frowned. “I should hold you. Your feet will get cold.”
“No, put me down,” Lissa insisted in an undertone.
“Very well.” Reluctantly, she thought, he sat her on her feet. “My lady.” Lissa made a deep obeisance. “It’s very kind of you to receive me into your home. I am eternally grateful for your benevolence.”
“What lovely manners.” The ambassador beamed at her, her sharp eyes flicking over Lissa, taking her in from her bare feet to the shining mirror-mere dagger strapped to her waist. “I’m delighted to meet you in person, my dear. Tell me, where are you staying while you’re here in Opulex?”
“Oh, I hadn’t really thought…” Lissa was caught off guard. “I suppose we thought we’d just find a lodging house.”
“We?” The ambassador raised one elegant blue eyebrow. “Do you have another person with you?”
“Oh, well yes.” Lissa felt her cheeks get hot as she nodded at her kinsman. “I just meant, you know, Saber and I.”
Lady Sha’rak frowned. “You consider your body-slave a person? How very singular.”
“Well, I mean…” Lissa grasped hastily for an explanation. “I’ve had him since my…my twelfth birthday, you know,” she said at last. “So he’s…almost part of the family.”
The ambassador shook her head and made a disapproving tsking sound. “I can see you’re much too kindhearted with your slaves, my dear. You ought to remember that no matter how fond we get of them, males are still just animals. Animals that need to be trained and kept in check. Speaking of which, will you excuse me just for a moment?”
“Oh, um, of course.” Lissa backed up a step uncertainly, wondering what the ambassador was going to do.
The welcoming smile on Lady Sha’rak’s face faded into a disapproving frown and she pointed at Llewelyn, who had been standing silently behind Saber. “You. Llewelyn.”
“Yes, Mistress?” The body-slave came forward at once. To Lissa’s surprise, Lady Sha’rak drew back and slapped him hard across the face with no warning.
*Smack* The flat sound of her dainty hand connecting with his hard jaw made Lissa jump. From the corner of her eye, she saw Saber’s hazel eyes widen—obviously he was surprised as well. She half expected the body-slave to retaliate in some way—if not with actions then at least with angry words. Instead, he fell to his knees at his mistress’s feet.
Lady Sha’rak put one dainty slipper out from under her stiff skirts and Llewelyn leaned humbly down to kiss it. “Mistress,” he murmured, sitting up and rubbing his red cheek against her thigh.
“Never mind your groveling.” The ambassador sounded impatient. “What time did I say I wanted to see Lady R’awr here in my dwelling?”
“At exactly ten past the hour, my lady.” The body-slave spoke impassively, as though he expected to be punished and was prepared to endure his sentence without comment or complaint.
“And what time was it when you actually entered my greeting salon?” she continued.
“Twenty past the hour, Mistress.”
“Making you late—as always.” The ambassador glared down at him. Though her body-slave was huge compared to her petite form, it was clear she had no fear of him. “You know what follows, Llewelyn. I must give you the pain-taste. Are you prepared to take your punishment?”
“I am.” He nodded stolidly.
“Very well.” Stepping back, Ambassador Sha’rak pulled apart the top of the deep blue dress she was wearing. It parted easily, baring her breasts which were full and thrusting.
Lissa gasped and immediately averted her eyes but not before she noticed something very peculiar—one of the ambassador’s nipples was bright ruby red and the other was a cool sapphire blue.
“It’s all right, Lady R’awr,” the ambassador said, forcing Lissa to glance up again. “Llewelyn needs others to witness his shame. Please do watch as I punish him.”
“Oh, right. Thank you,” Lissa said faintly. “I, uh, that’s very kind of you.”
“Think nothing of it.” Lady Sha’rak nodded magnanimously and then beckoned to her body-slave again. “Come, Llewelyn, take your punishment.”
The big slave sat up straight and silent, still on his knees before his mistress. She leaned forward slightly, allowing him to take the nipple which was painted bright red between his lips.
At once, Llewelyn’s eyes began to water and his face went dark with obvious pain. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he continued to suck his mistress’s nipple, slowly caressing it with his tongue and lapping gently at the tender bud as she purred in pleasure and stroked his bald head.
It seemed to go on forever and Lissa forced herself to watch though she felt like her face was on fire. She’d studied the Yonnite culture before coming here but nowhere in the literature had she read anything about this strange punishment. How long was this going to continue? Watching something so intimate, especially with Saber right behind her, also watching, made her feel squirmy and hot with embarrassment. Goddess, if only it would end…
“Well, well…enough, Llewelyn,” the ambassador
said at last, sounding rather breathless. “You may have the sweet-taste now, to ease your pain.”
At once her body-slave released the red nipple—which was now a normal pale pink color, Lissa saw—and sucked his mistress’s other nipple, the blue one, between his lips.
Immediately his face cleared and his eyes stopped streaming tears of pain. He took the second nipple in the same, unhurried fashion he had the first, lapping gently to begin with and then sucking deeply, to take as much as his mistress’s breast into his mouth as he could at once.
Lady Sha’rak’s breath was definitely coming faster now and she was pressing herself against her slave’s mouth, clearly enjoying this part of the punishment as much as he was. To her mortification, Lissa saw that a thick bulge was growing inside Llewelyn’s tight black pants. She couldn’t help thinking how he’d admitted to wanting his mistress—to fantasizing about her and loving it when she let her service him. I think I can guess exactly what kind of “service” he performs for her, she thought uncomfortably and then tried to banish the thought as the performance went on and on.
Finally, just as Lissa felt she might sink through the floor in mortal embarrassment, the ambassador tapped Llewelyn’s bald head and murmured, “Enough.”
Reluctantly, the big slave released her second nipple, which was also now a pale pink in color, and sat back on his haunches. “Thank you, Mistress,” he said, his deep voice husky with lust. “For correcting me.”
“Yes, well…” The ambassador straightened up and pulled her dress closed. “You always do seem to need extra correction, Llewelyn. Just remember to be on time in the future. If you’re late again, I’ll have to use the rod on you instead of the pain-taste.”