Lord V threw on a silky, dark blue nightshirt before he returned his gaze to his flushed and exhausted slave curled up on the bed. He walked over and then sat down next to her. She stiffened. "Ah, pet," he said, stroking her hair and cheek. "Your body pleases me beyond my expectations, but you must remember that it belongs to me now. You must ask permission before removing something I have placed inside you."
He saw her lips tighten into a pouty scowl and her tiny, soft hand flex into a fist. He held back a laugh and reached up to untie the blindfold. Sure enough, as the blindfold slipped away it revealed her beautiful, green eyes simmering with resentment.
"Now, none of that," he said through a bemused smirk as two of his fingers dipped into an open, little jar on the bedside table. "If you want it out, follow my instructions . . ."
~
Despite her frustration, Sierra positioned herself as instructed and the alien man slathered the lubricant around her asshole, even sliding a slippery finger in around the thin neck of the thing. It felt humiliating, intrusive and odd. When he pulled the object out, it burned and stretched her. She gritted her teeth in order to hold back a cry. At lease, the horrible thing was gone now, and she heard him place it with a clink on the metal tray by the ointment. He patted her ass. Then arose and she heard water splashing. When she turned to look, the man was wiping his hands on a napkin at a small table set for two.
"Now, slave. Despite your naughtiness today, I've decided to spoil you." When she said nothing but looked incredulously at him, he continued with a self-satisfied tone, "upon hearing a human female with no . . ." he corrected himself, "when I heard you were available for purchase some weeks ago, I had the forethought to order some human food. It arrived this afternoon."
Sierra's heart lifted. It wasn't so much because she was hungry, even though she was, it was the thought of having anything blessedly familiar. She perked up, adjusting herself more into a sitting position and pulled a soft sheet across her nudity.
"Thank you, master" she whispered, trying not to get her hopes up. Perhaps humans didn't eat the same things anymore. Perhaps he was just toying with her.
"Ah, you're welcome, slave" he said smoothly as he sat down at one of the two chairs set at the table. He lifted the metal dome off of a platter in the center of the table and Sierra gasped at what she saw. There were apples, grapes, a wedge of cheese, what looked like a slice of cherry pie and a bowl of steaming soup. She almost jumped up and ran to the table to gobble up everything in sight, but in the end, she hesitated.
"Master, please may I have some clothes?" she asked, looking earnestly into his impassive face.
The handsome man with the strange ears and silvery hair raised his eyebrows; then looked her over appreciatively.
"In the top drawer, you will find my nightshirts," he jerked his head in the direction of a dresser. She wrapped the sheet around her and stumbled over to where he indicated. She idly picked a satiny, dove-gray one and hazarded a look over at Lord V who was sipping some dark liquid from a crystal glass.
"Quickly, slave. It's nothing I haven't seen before" he urged, irritation creeping into his voice.
Sierra tried to drop the sheet and slide into what became a knee-length dress on her without revealing too much. The huge, soft, nightshirt gaped a little at the top exposing a fair amount of cleavage, but it was more coverage than she'd been given so far. After dressing, she sat down nervously twisting her hands together across from her master at the small table.
"You may eat, slave," he said looking amused and elegant, taking another sip from the crystal goblet.
She wasn't sure where to start, but she took the large spoon (almost a ladle) and started on the soup. She never thought tomato soup could taste that good. It was like an explosion of acidic, salty, creamy flavor on her tongue. She took several savoring spoonfuls before she remembered where she was and glanced over at her imperious host.
He was watching her, his gaze thoughtful.
"Aren't you, aren't you going to eat, master?" Sierra asked shyly.
Her question seemed to take him out of his reverie. He smiled his chilling, little smile, "No slave, our dietary needs are . . . somewhat different. I am going to leave you for a while. Eat and then try to get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow."
Before rising, he offered in condescending tones, "Despite my generosity this evening," Sierra frowned. He ignored her incredulity and continued, "I feel it only fair to warn you that any disobedience in public tomorrow will result in my extreme displeasure." The alien man paradoxically seemed to smile wider when he said "displeasure." Sierra shifted uncomfortably and then shakily dipped her large spoon back into the soup.
Before the spoon was halfway to her mouth, her master arose and with goblet in hand, walked gracefully towards a smooth section of the bedroom wall. At the touch of his hand, a doorway into a hall appeared. He spared her a final look and remarked, "exits and entrances to these quarters are solely activated by Ingentian genetic keys. Do not tire yourself out looking for escape tonight my dear. As I said, big day tomorrow." His steely, gray eyes burned into her before he stepped into the hall and the doorway slid shut, the smooth wall betraying no sign of where the door might have been.
~
They had taken Jarok's ship. Gerra's ship was bigger, nicer and was outfitted with more firepower, but Jarok's little scuzzbucket was faster and more maneuverable. It was the difference between syndicate sanctioned piracy and Jarok's maverick small time smuggling.
When they arrived in Belta Vekhian, the whole capital was abuzz. It seemed the busy chaos might be in their favor until they found themselves unable to avoid the various security checkpoints set up around the conference square.
"Well," breathed Gerra with a mischievous grin, "here we go."
When the security comm clicked on, requesting authorization, Jarok exchanged glances with Gerra and began, "This is Jarok Fife, captain of this stargalley. I seek an audience with Lord V of Ingentia concerning his human slave."
There was a pause, and then the security personnel responded, "Lord V Protectorate of Ingentia, is a busy man. Is this meeting pre-arranged and authorized?" Jarok winced, but attempted an authoritative tone, "I am confident Lord V will be interested in information about his recent purchase, despite our lacking an authorized appointment. I will seek a private audience with him at the Versipedes Conference." Jarok continued in a flat voice, "I was the slave's original seller."
It was several minutes before security issued a clipped response, "Versipedes Conference attendees have been credentialed. You are not on the list" please disembark.
Jarok shot Gerra an unhappy look.
Gerra piped up with a sneering voice, "This is Gerra Caspian of Keplar 7, Rilas Syndicate. We hear Lord V is especially partial to human females. We may have another specimen. What is your name as we would like to tell Lord V when we see him, who delayed him from acquiring another treasured plaything?"
There was the sound of a throat clearing. "Gerra Caspian. Your reputation is well known. Although, your expanding into the slave trade was not. We grant you clearance into Belta Vekhian Conference Square, but of course, cannot guarantee an audience with the Lord Protectorate. You will have to take that up with his intermediaries."
