Enslaved

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Wait…I can’t sleep like this…in the nude,” Trin protested sleepily.

  “Afraid you’re going to have to, at least for tonight,” said Thrace. “Your nipples are looking a little red again. You don’t want to hurt yourself by letting anything rough come in contact with them.”

  As if to illustrate his point, he leaned down and lapped her right nipple, gently, soothing the sharp little ache that had begun to grow, almost without Trin knowing it.

  “Oh!” His hot mouth on her flesh woke her up and for a moment she had to fight the urge to reach for him, to beg him to lick her again, to suck her some more…

  “Sorry, Mistress…did I overstep my bounds?” His eyes were half-lidded with desire. “I just wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable. Perhaps I should lick the other too? To be on the safe side?”

  Again, Trin didn’t want to fight about it.

  “All right. Thank you, Thrace,” she murmured. Arching her back, she pressed her breasts up, offering herself to him.

  Thrace took her up on the offer, leaning down again to trace her other nipple gently with his tongue, easing her pain.

  “Gods, Mistress,” he murmured thickly when he at last raised his head. “Your breasts are so beautiful. Thank you for allowing me to help you. Is your pussy in need as well?”

  “I…” Trin began to feel a bit breathless and much more awake. “I don’t know.”

  “Perhaps I should check. If you would spread your legs for me, Mistress?” He tugged the sheets down below her thighs and raised an eyebrow at her.

  Feeling hot and uncertain all over again, Trin did as he asked. She bit back a moan as he framed her pussy with his big hands and then parted her outer lips gently with his thumbs.

  “Hmmm…” he studied her critically. “Just a hint of redness, especially around your clit. Does it hurt?”

  “It’s…sensitive,” Trin admitted, biting her lip.

  “What about when I do this?” Gently he traced her tender little bump, making her moan and jump against his touch. “I think I have my answer,” he murmured, looking up at her. “And I know what I need to do about it.”

  “What…what do you want to do about it?” Trin whispered. “I…I don’t know if it’s right to let you help me…make me, uh, come again. I mean…I’m not really in danger any more.”

  “But you are still in pain. No good love-slave can allow his mistress to have pain when he can do something to ease it.” He nodded at the viewscreen. “It wouldn’t look right.”

  “All right,” Trin said softly. “I just…we’ve already done more…more than I ever thought I would.”

  “I know, Mistress,” Thrace murmured. “And I’m not asking you to push your boundaries any more tonight—I just want to lessen your pain. After all, I didn’t have to suck your nipples again to make them feel better—I don’t think another orgasm is necessary to ease the ache in your pussy, either.” His eyes blazed with lust. “Although the Gods know I’d fucking love to give you one.”

  “What do you recommend, then?” Trin didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed that he didn’t think she needed to come again.

  “Just an obeisance—the same thing I did earlier, before your bath.” He licked his lips carefully, making them shiny. “I think I can transfer enough of the healing compounds to you through a single kiss to ease your ache.”

  “Just a kiss, then?” Trin whispered.

  Slowly, he nodded. “Just a kiss goodnight, Mistress,” he murmured. “Just your soft, sweet pussy spread open for me to kiss. Once. That’s all.”

  “All right.” Trin nodded. After all, he’d already done this once. It couldn’t hurt to let him do it again—could it?

  Before she could answer the question, Thrace was flat on his stomach between her legs. Spreading her pussy lips wide, he looked up at her.

  “Watch me, Mistress,” he said hoarsely. “Watch me kiss your hot little pussy.”

  “Thrace,” she protested weakly but his hot words as well as the way he was looking into her eyes seemed to rob her of all self control. Obediently, she watched as he lowered his head and gave her bare pussy a hot, open-mouthed kiss.

  It seemed to go on forever, the feel of his warm lips caressing her clit and inner cunt. But finally, just as Trin was getting the breathless feeling of need building inside her again, he pulled back.

  “Better?” he asked and she was ashamed to see that his lips were shiny again—this time with her honey. Goddess, why couldn’t she help getting wet when she was around him?

  “Better,” she whispered. “I…I guess I should get some sleep now.”

  “I suppose.” But he made no move to leave his position between her legs and Trin didn’t try to make him either. “I’m glad you’re feeling less pain now, Mistress,” he murmured.

  “I am too,” Trin agreed. “Especially considering what you…what you had to do to ease my pain in the first place.”

  “I don’t mind—you know I don’t.” His eyes were half-lidded as he studied her face. “In fact, I think we should make this form of obeisance a regular thing.”

  “What—you mean letting…letting you kiss my pussy?” Trin shifted a little, wishing she wasn’t spread quite so wide. Her slippery inner petals were completely exposed. It made her feel vulnerable…and incredibly hot.

  “Letting me kiss your open pussy,” Thrace corrected her in a soft growl. “After all, what better way could there be for me to show my obedience and devotion to you than to spread open your sweet, wet cunt and worship you with my mouth?” Leaning down, he kissed her again, nuzzling gently with his lips to press deep into her wet depths. He wasn’t using his tongue but it was a near thing—Trin could almost feel the tip of it caressing her throbbing clit as he gave her yet another sweet, intimate kiss.

  “I…I don’t think that would be such a good idea,” she whispered breathlessly. “You…you know how I feel about penetration, Thrace. Even…even oral penetration.”

  “Spreading your pussy lips to kiss your inner cunt isn’t penetration—it’s devotion,” he argued softly. “Why should I not show how very devoted I am to you, Mistress? How very much I lo—” He cleared his throat. “How much I care for you and want to serve you?”

  Trin bit her lip, wondering what he had almost said. Surely not what she’d thought…

  “It’s late, Thrace,” she said softly. “And I’m tired…really tired.”

  “Of course, Mistress.” He kissed her pussy once more—a soft, lingering caress that made her want to moan and run her fingers through his hair—then lifted his head. “I suppose I should tuck you in and say goodnight then.”

  “I suppose.” Trin couldn’t help feeling a little stab of disappointment though she knew it was irrational. What had almost happened between them?

  “Well, then…” Thrace rose from his prone position and tucked the covers around her. “Pleasant dreams.”

  Trin sighed. “Are you coming to bed as well?”

  “As soon as I change.” He nodded down at the leather pants he still wore with a grimace of distaste. “Then, if you’ll permit me, I’d like to hold you tonight, as I did last night.”

  “Well…” Trin hesitated. The night before she had at least had on a sleep dress and panties. Now she was completely naked. Should she really let him hold her like that all night long, especially after what had almost happened? But then she remembered how good it felt to be pressed against his big body, to be surrounded by him. Also, it would probably look better for whoever was watching on the blue viewscreen. “All right,” she said at last. “Hurry and get changed though. I’m exhausted.”

  “As my lady commands,” he murmured.

  The desire in her body gradually faded to just an ache. Trin’s eyelids drifted closed for a moment and she heard the sound of rustling fabric. After a moment, the lights went out and Thrace slid under the heavy, silky sheets beside her. He took her in his arms and Trin sighed in deep contentment as she pillowed her head on his
hard chest. Goddess, they fit together perfectly. Who would have guessed that such a thing was possible? That she could find comfort and pleasure in cuddling up with such big, strange, dangerous creature?

  Yet, despite being a male, Thrace was none of those things. Or rather, he was but he was also just…Thrace. He made her feel safe in his arms…protected…cherished. How did he do that? Why did he want to? And how did she feel about it? About him? Was she beginning to care for him?

  Surely not, whispered a little voice in her head. Care for a male? In that way? That’s crazy…isn’t it?

  Before she could find an answer, her eyelids drifted shut again and sleep claimed her.

  * * * * *

  Just look at her. Thrace brushed a long strand of silky hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. The room was mostly dark but he could see her clearly in the faint blue glow from the viewscreen on the wall. She looked lovely as she lay curled in his arms, lost to the world but trusting that he would keep her safe, that he would protect her all night long.

  I will too. I’ll guard her with my life.

  Emotion swelled within him and he knew it was true. There was no denying it—he was growing to care for Trin and not in a casual way. Havoc didn’t bond themselves to females—they went their whole lives trying to avoid emotional entanglements with the opposite sex. That was part of their heritage and their beliefs, as surely as Trin’s people believed it was wrong to allow themselves to become involved with males. Yet, here they were, the two of them, entwined in bed with her head resting on his chest and her sweet, naked body pressed to his.

  What was happening to them?

  You’re falling for her, a little voice whispered in the back of his brain. It wasn’t accusing or angry or guilty—it was soft and calm and matter-of-fact. Just stating the truth. You’re falling in love with her.

  I can’t be, Thrace told himself. That’s fucking dangerous. It was too. Havoc didn’t avoid bonding themselves to females just because it would change their life expectancy or because of cultural beliefs and heritage. Havoc didn’t bond to females because once they gave themselves, gave their hearts, there was nothing—nothing—they wouldn’t do or give or endure to keep their female safe, to make her feel loved and protected. To show her how they felt.

  “Love for a female is like a drug,” Thrace remembered his Sire lecturing when he was young. “If you even once allow it to enter your system, it will take over. It clouds your judgment, ruins your sense of self preservation, changes the focus of your whole life. That’s why we stay away from females, son, except for brief encounters. It fucks up your entire existence, falling in love. Don’t let it happen to you.”

  Thrace had promised he wouldn’t and he had kept his word faithfully for years…up until now. I should get up right now, he told himself. Ought to just leave. There’s nothing keeping me here—no pain collar. No one could stop me. I could find a transport shuttle out of here and go back to The Empress, find Solar and get my old life back. I should just go.

  But looking down at the girl curled in his arms, he knew he couldn’t. If love was a drug, it had already entered his system. He couldn’t help how he felt, couldn’t stop the chemical reaction in his brain. Couldn’t control the impulses he felt to protect and cherish her, to hold her for as long as he could…even though he knew she didn’t feel the same way.

  She never will, either, he thought, stroking her cheek. Trin sighed in her sleep and turned toward his touch. Thrace felt like a fist was squeezing his heart. She’ll never allow herself to feel for a male. And the very idea of making love, of allowing any kind of penetration from me, is repugnant to her. She said it herself—she feels the same way about being penetrated that I do.

  The thought made him shudder and unquiet memories tried to rise to the surface of his mind. Thrace pushed them down ruthlessly. He’d confronted enough of his past already, especially when he’d sucked in the bubble of nightmare vapor earlier that night. The point was, he understood why Trin didn’t want to be penetrated. And also why she could never feel for him the way he was beginning to feel for her.

  Doesn’t matter though, he thought, settling her more closely against him. I still feel it, even if she doesn’t. I can’t help it—I’m fucking lost.

  The thought should have depressed him but he couldn’t make himself be too upset—not when he was holding her close in his arms. There was nothing he could do about it tonight. Nothing but hold her while he still could. With a sigh, he let his eyes drift closed…

  After a moment, the glow of the viewscreen showed only two people sleeping deeply in each other’s arms—two bodies entwined, the smaller one curled against the larger for comfort and warmth. The soft hush of breathing was the only sound.

  Then, the cool blue glow of the viewscreen turned an ominous pulsing red and low male laughter rumbled through its speakers. The black dots in the center of each bedpost irised open, revealing four holes like hungry mouths. A soft, insidious hissing sound filled the air and a heavy black vapor poured out and drifted down. It caressed the faces of the two sleepers, stroking their helpless visages with oily tentacles.

  Trin sniffed a tiny amount of the vapor and made a face. She curled towards Thrace’s broad chest, her hair falling over her face, shielding her from inhaling any more the vapor. But the huge Havoc was sleeping on his back. A faint frown creased his face as the oily, black tentacles caressed his cheek. He drew in a deep, startled breath and the vapor entered his mouth and nose eagerly, almost as if it had been waiting for just such an opportunity.

  The nightmare began…

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Trin looked around herself, frowning. Where was she? There were rows of slaves, kneeling on display pillars and eager slaves walking around, crying their wares. Prospective buyers browsed the merchandise while the security Crangs watched from the sidelines. Recognition struck her—somehow she was back to the Flesh Bazaar, where she had first found Thrace.

  Why am I back here? I found the one I wanted. The only one I’ll ever want. So why am I…?

  The question died before she could answer it as something caught her attention. It was Thrace…at least she thought it was Thrace.

  But something was different about him. He looked younger—much younger—only an adolescent.

  Adolescent Thrace was tall and gangly and not nearly as muscular as the Thrace she knew. But his hair was the same inky blue-black and his eyes were the same startling silver-blue.

  He was up on an auction block.

  Trin had seen one or two of these private auctions. They were held for only the rarest and most desirable slaves and buyers had to pay a hefty fee to even join the auction in the first place. Several of them were bidding now, standing in front of the raised platform where the young Thrace was displayed, calling out prices, trying to win him as though he was a rare pet they wanted for their private zoo.

  Once, Trin would have thought the same thing—that a male had no more feelings than a beast. But now her heart went out to the young Thrace. He stood proudly, his chin raised, his big hands curled into fists at his sides. He didn’t make a sound, even when the auctioneer, a Catara from the Dengba system, raised the scanty cloth he wore wrapped around his waist and displayed the size of his shaft.

  “A tasty young mmmorsel, my lords and ladies,” the auctioneer purred, his pointed ears swiveling to catch the various bids. “And mmmost well endowed, as you can see. Now…what ammm I bid?”

  “Ten thousand!” a female who was certainly a mistress from Yonnie Six exclaimed.

  “Twenty!” shouted another.

  “Twenty once…twenty twice…do I hear thirty thousand credits?” The Catara auctioneer’s long furry tail lashed from side to side with excitement.

  “Thirty thousand,” the first mistress declared.

  “Thirty-five. I must have him for my private collection!” The second mistress glared at her.

  “Thirty-eight and not a credit more,” declared the first.

/>   “Thirty-eight,” the auctioneer purred. “Going once…going twice…”

  “Fifty thousand credits.” The voice belonged to a medium sized male with thinning gray hair and rings on every finger. His rich robes of purple halla-cloth were pulled tight over his round belly and there was a hungry glitter in his small, piggy eyes that made Trin fear for the adolescent Thrace.

  Fifty thousand—that’s what I paid for him. An exorbitant fee for an ordinary slave. But Thrace was anything but ordinary. Trin could see why he had inspired such a high price…twice.

  “Sold! To the Master from Gemma!” the Catara auctioneer shouted when no one else countered the bid.

  Suddenly, there was a commotion a few rows down.

  “No!” A large Havoc male, the same size Thrace was now, came charging through the crowd, his silver-blue eyes burning. He had his hands bound behind his back but he didn’t let that stop him. “No, you male-raping bastard,” he shouted at the surprised master from Gemma who had just won the auction. “You shall not have him! Not my only son!”

  It looked to Trin like he was going to bowl the middle aged, gray haired master right over. But then the master surprised everyone by pulling a blaster from the folds of his purple robes and firing it point-blank at the other male’s chest.

  The shot stopped the angry Havoc in his tracks. He halted at once and looked down, a look of surprise on his face as he viewed the gaping, bloody hole in his chest. Then he fell to his knees, swayed a moment more…and crumpled to the ground.

  “No!” The howl of pure agony came from the young Thrace. His silver-blue eyes were filled with shock and disbelief. “No, Father…please!” he begged as the security Crangs dragged the bloody corpse away.

  “Sir,” began the slaver who had been rushing after the older Havoc. “I appreciate that you felt you were being attacked but that slave was a valuable piece of merchandize and I must protest—”

  “Here.” The Master from Gemma threw a jingling bag of credit-coins at the slaver’s feet. “For your trouble. I can’t stand mouthy slaves.”