by Mind Guest
and especially not at him, when he interrupted the intention in the
most direct way possible. His hands took the blue velvet dress I was
wearing and ripped it open, then did the same to the white silk under
dress. Bellna's shock coursed through me as he threw me off his lap to
the floor, the disbelief intensifying as I hit hard. I'd been able to
cushion the jolt a little by using my hands, but the ruined material of
dress and under dress had been pushed down onto my arms, tying me into
what was left of once-elegant clothing. My left hip got the worst of
it, but one benefit came out of the unpleasant episode: the presence in
my mind was so shocked that it went speechless and motionless, leaving
me free to show appropriate fear and repentance when Grigon-Ruthor went
down to one knee and pulled me back toward him.
"Insolence is punished as ever it will be, girl," he told me coldly,
half-kneeling above me. "Do you continue to feel amusement?"
"I feel only the desire to serve you, Lord!" I quavered, looking up at
him with none of the growl I felt inside me. I wanted to serve him, all
right, but that sort of serving would have to wait-until I won.
"You need not fear," he said, reaching out to touch one of my nowexposed
breasts. "You will do exactly that. Get to your feet."
He stood straight and watched me struggle around until I could rise, holding the pieces of dress and under dress to keep them from falling
off me. I knew he wanted me stripped, but he wanted it done at his own
pace, and wouldn't appreciate being anticipated. When I was standing in
front of him he reached out and ripped everything the rest of the way,
then stepped back a pace to study me.
"Unexpected largesse," he murmured, looking at me with the most
intrusive stare he could manage. "More than I had anticipated-yet
without the hint of a blush. Are you other than the innocent I thought
you to be?"
"I am frightened, Lord," I whispered, cursing myself for forgetting
such an important detail. I had expected Bellna's embarrassment to do
the job for me, and when it didn't I hadn't been bright enough to take
over. "If you wish it I will attempt to do other than feel fear, and
yet.
"Still your tongue," he interrupted irritably, gesturing with one hand.
"I want no further words from you. Rid yourself of those rags, and take
yourself to my bed."
I got my wrists loose from the dress sleeves and let the "rags" fall to
the floor, then let my hesitation and reluctance show as I hurried
toward the curtained bed. Despite the fact that I knew I'd never sleep
without a good deal of soothing, I did feel reluctant at the thought of
sharing Grigon's bed. He wasn't likely to do anything for me without
indulging in a little more torture first, and whatever he did do would
be tempered by the way I'd been changed to match Bellna. I wasn't
afraid of the man, but wary wouldn't be a word too far from the mark.
Grigon waited until I'd parted the curtains, groped to find the covers,
then slipped under them before following me over. I was just beginning
to feel safe and snug in the darkness when the curtains were jerked
aside as far as they would go, and Grigon's darkened form moved toward
the head of the bed. I heard him reaching around, then heard a rattle
and a scrape. A spark flared bright in the darkness, catching
immediately on the slim piece of wood it had flared near, and from that
slim piece of wood a candle on the narrow shelf above the bed was lit.
Grigon blew out the flame on the piece of wood and set it back in its
place, and then he was ready for other things.
"I dislike being unable to see what I am about," he said, moving back
to the curtain opening at the side of the bed. "Were you given
permission to hide yourself beneath those covers?"
"No, Lord," I whispered, throwing the covers away as though they were
hot. "I meant no disobedience; Lord. I ask your forgiveness, Lord."
"Enough," he said, pulling his shirt out of his pants and then hauling
it off over his head. "I had thought it clear that I wished no more of
your chatter. I see you must be silenced by other means."
I watched him pull his boots off and then tackle his pants, his broad,
hair-covered chest more of a distraction than it should have been. He
had something else in mind for me, something I was not likely to enjoy,
but my mind insisted on watching him with wide-eyed interest as he got
down to the buff. He was certainly well made as a man, a fact sitting
in his lap had only hinted at. His degree of arousal would have had
some men pawing at the ground and demanding to get on with working it
off, but Grigon acted as though he had all the time in the world. he
tossed his pants to one side with a careless gesture, smiled faintly
when he saw my eyes on him, then moved closer to stand over me.
"You will lie flat so that I may examine you at my leisure," he said in
his Ruthor voice, leaning down to shove me partway across the bed so
that he might climb in himself. The bed linen wasn't linen but silk,
and he had seen to it that I'd warmed a place for him. "Should I hear a single sound from you, you will be punished. Have I made myself clear?"
I bobbed my head spasmodically, giving him a wide-eyed stare filled
with the apprehension of innocence. Bellna was bewildered in the shock
she was still suffering from and so was my role character; I,
unfortunately, could now guess at what he was up to. he sat next to me
where I lay and looked down at me, the faint smile on his face touched
with a hint of true amusement as his big hand came to stroke gently at
my middle. I'd never be able to take his "examination" without making
some kind of a sound, not in the face of the sort of expertise he'd
shown earlier. He was going to use that as an excuse to "punish" me,
but maybe being forewarned would be enough to let me hold out. His
stroking right hand came to slide over my breast, two of his fingers
catching the nipple between them and squeezing gently; I was able to
keep the gasp from coming out even though my mouth opened, but I
quickly changed my mind. Being forewarned wasn't going to do me a damn
bit of good, at least as far as holding out went. Maybe I could do
something with it afterward.
Surprisingly enough, "afterward" took a while to arrive.
Grigon worked on me slowly and deliberately, rekindling the blaze he
had started earlier and building on it. His hands and lips went
everywhere, touching, tasting, arousing, driving me more insane with
every minute that passed. I held the light blue silk clenched in my
fists as I twisted and writhed, barely aware of the still-frightened
child behind my eyes, totally consumed by the needs of my body. I felt
his hands like metal on my thighs, holding them apart and raising me
from the bed; I felt his breath, blown gently from between his lips;
when his tongue touched me I threw my head back and screamed,
completely beyond thinking and caring. That was what Grigon had been
waiting for, of course, and the open-handed slap that made my ears ring
&nb
sp; brought me back and told me I'd lost the round.
"Again you disobey!" Grigon-Ruthor snarled, his second slap blurring my
vision and bringing tears to my eyes.. "Go and fetch my belt, at once!"
Teary-eyed and trembling I backed away from him, then slid off the bed
to do as he'd ordered. Control! I told myself with held-off
desperation, feeling the blubbering fear pour through me as I groped in
the shadows on my knees for Grigon's belt. It was lying half covered by
his pants, as though it had been set in place in anticipation of use,
which of course it had been. I picked up the soft but heavy leather in
trembling hands and held it to me, still not knowing whether or not I
could go through with it. I had a thing about being beaten that stemmed
from a very unpleasant experience during one of my assignments, and I
didn't know whether or not I could hold still for being beaten by
Grigon. I rose to my feet again, still clutching the belt, and hurried
back to the bed through the chill of the room. One way or another, my
question was about to be answered.
Grigon-Ruthor sat waiting for me on the bed, the small candle above
throwing shadows all about as I climbed over his legs. The tears were
still running down my cheeks as I reached the belt out toward him with
both hands, and for a minute his eyes met mine. That I knew he was
going to beat me must have been clear to see; as he took the belt a
peculiar expression flickered across his face. He glanced at the
trembling in my hands, the hopelessness my face must have been covered
with, the roundness of defeat in my shoulders, and suddenly there was a
different decision in his eyes.
"Such youthful innocence," he murmured, reaching a hand out to touch my
face. "That there are men who find pleasure in destroying such
freshness and beauty has never failed to infuriate me. I am no longer able to continue with this. Come to my arms, child."
I watched him throw the belt away but didn't really understand; not
until be had taken me in his arms and raised my face for his kiss. He
had spoken in his own voice, not that of Ruthor, and the game seemed to
be over. I say seemed to be because he was still speaking in the
Tildorani tongue, and he had begun to caress me again. I tested his
truthfulness with a small moan and got nothing but a murmur in
response, but the burning in my cheeks where he had slapped me worked
to keep me skeptical. I might have won the game already, but there was
no sense in not making sure.
Grigon's kiss was long and tender, and by the time it was over I lay in
his arms with both of us horizontal rather than vertical. His hands
moved over me with gentleness that surprised and startled the guest
behind my eyes, and did something more than that: it also aroused her.
How that could be possible I hadn't the faintest idea, but if a
glandular emotion like anger or embarrassment was possible for her, why
not arousal? The only possibility I could think of was that she was
using my body as an emotion-receptor, and with her diminished fear came
awareness of other sensations. Whatever it was, I was suddenly gripped
by arousal out of control, the sort that's usually channeled and used
through knowledge and experience tQ heighten enjoyment. I clutched
Grigon's back convulsively, pressing myself up against him, hearing his
chuckle as he pressed me flat to the bed. Bellna was ready to get on
with it and so was he, and once again I was in the minority. I tried to
push away her presence but it surged all around me, raw with power,
impossible to control. My knees separated of their own accord, the
baldest invitation possible, and Grigon wasn't slow to accept. He
positioned him-self between my thighs, gathered me to him, then
smothered me with a kiss as he surged forward into me.
If not for that kiss it would have been all over right then and there.
Aroused or not, Bellna was suddenly afraid, and she tried to cry out
when Grigon entered me. From my point of view the sensation was
unbelievable; Grigon felt as though he were twice the size he actually
was. Bellna, unused to that sensation under any circumstances, tried to
fight her way free and then panicked when she couldn't. Panic for her
happily corseted of withdrawal from control, and I was back where I was
supposed to be when Grigon raised his head.
"Does something disturb you, little one?" he asked, kissing my face
gently as he smoothed my hair back. "It was my impression that you
attempted to speak."
"I'm merely overwhelmed," I got out, trying to gather up all the ends
Bellna had dropped, before he decided something was peculiar. "I had
not anticipated such size and strength from you. Perhaps you would
allow me to see to your needs in another manner?"
"My sympathy and understanding are yours, wench, yet this may not be,"
he answered, his words nearly a murmur as his hips began to move
slowly. "I cannot bring myself to abandon the exquisite tightness of
you which, though it now disturbs you, will only be aided and lessened
by my presence. You have obeyed me well till now; will you continue to
do so?"
"Am I now permitted disobedience if that is my wish?" I asked, nearly
gasping the words. His movement was making his presence even more
unbelievable, and I didn't know how long I could stand it.
"No," he said with a merry grin, gathering me to him again. "I would
indeed be a fool were I to permit such a thing. Perhaps afterward."
He lost interest in conversation then, and it occurred to me that I had
another afterward to look forward to. Grigon's performance was considerate as far as rape usually goes, but considerate or not it was
still rape. With that in mind I forced myself to concentrate on what he
was doing rather than ignoring it, and began to help him - in my own
way. A woman who knows what she's doing can either extend a man's
performance or force it into termination, and Grigon had been holding
back a longer time than was usual. I know he was looking forward to a
leisurely ride, but I've had training from an adept of Saccarion, and
he couldn't resist my muscle movement. With teeth gritted he tried to
hold back, fighting the urge for release with non-movement, but he
didn't have a chance. He climaxed uncontrollably, his hands on my
shoulders, and then he withdrew to lay down beside me and breathe
deeply for a minute or two. I stirred where I lay, well aware of the
fact that my needs hadn't been seen to, but I'd rather have to use a
lot of self-control and cold showers than submit to rape.
"I apologize for the brevity of the entertainment, Grigon said at last,
rolling onto his side to put his hand on my middle again. I was
surprised to see that he didn't understand what had been done to him,
but it did save me some trouble: "We will proceed to your suggestion of
alternate amusement, and then will return for a second and longer
encounter of intimate enjoyment, eh? Let us. . ."
"Forget it," I interrupted, switching back to base language as I pushed
his hand away and sat up. "You've had enough fun for one n
ight at my
expense. Let's discuss whether or not I've passed the test."
"You're a hard woman," he sighed, following my example as to language.
Other than that he turned to his back again, tucked his hands behind
his head, and looked up at me. "As far as the test goes, I'm not the
one to ask about it. How did it go from your end?"
"It wasn't as simple as I thought it would be," I admitted, running
both hands through my hair while my elbows rested on my knees. "Isn't
there some way to get rid of her so I can get on with this project in
peace?"
"Not without going back home," he said, watching me closely without
moving. "I'll call Dameron and arrange for retrieval."
"Forget it," I repeated, giving him a sour glance. "As far as the
project goes, nothing has changed. If I don't go, there's no one
waiting to be sent in my place. I'll have to manage just as I am."
"Manage to do what?" he asked, keeping his tone level. "Get yourself
killed? The men on this world don't fool around. If your alternate
personality comes out at the wrong time, you probably won't have the
chance to repair the damage. It's too much of a risk."
"Breathing in and out is a risk," I countered. "And you forget one
thing: I'm supposed to be Bellna. If I slip as Bellna, there's not much
harm done. After it's all over, I'll just have to stay away from people
until I'm picked up. I've lived off the land before; I won't starve or
trip over something with teeth and claws."
"I still don't like it," he said, finally sitting up straight and
folding his legs in front of him. "There are so many things that can go
wrong that we didn't dare ask the computer to list them; it would still
be working on the question. What if you can't avoid being among people?
What if you do trip over something with teeth and claws? What if you
run afoul of something we haven't even thought of? I keep getting
visions of you lying half under a bush, awash in your own blood,
complete vacancy behind those pretty blue eyes. I don't think I could
shrug off being partly responsible for the death of a young girl with
everything to live for."
I could see him fairly well in the flickering candlelight, and he
wasn't joking or being sarcastic. He really felt concern for me - but for the strangest reason.