Suka gazed dejectedly at his hand, flat on the bed in front of her.
“It’s not great. But I guess it’s the best we can hope for.”
He bent to kiss her, sweetly, regretfully, but firmly.
“That’s settled. That’s a plan. Come, then.”
They dressed—Paul rapidly, Suka with a great variety of winces and sucking in of cheeks—then they left the punishment suite, passing through the darkened room in which Suka had hidden earlier. Paul shone his communicator torch through the gloom, able to look closely at the fixtures and fittings now he was not chasing his errant ensign.
“This is the Hall of the Futures.” He spoke reverently, walking over to a computer console of some kind and running his hand over the apparatus. “Where the Paladians developed new technologies. Something they were extremely good at, by the way. This must be some kind of communications device. Shame there’s no power to watch it in action. Perhaps we could come back down with boosters.”
“I thought the Paladians were quite isolationist.”
“They were, to an extent. Neighbours didn’t approve of their lifestyle. Neighbours were prudes, essentially.”
“Like our civilisation.”
Paul turned and grinned. “Yes. Blundering along thinking they’re doing the right thing, invading people’s private space.”
“It’s a crying shame. Do you think it’ll ever change?”
“Probably. Not in our lifetime, though.”
Paul was frowning over another machine, tapping at various buttons with some of his tools.
“Don’t know what this is. I haven’t seen this one in the books. Must have been something new. A prototype.”
“It’s very strange-looking,” commented Suka. “Like a lift car but with lots of extra knobs on. I think something happens to you if you step into it.”
“Perhaps it’s a new punishment device. But it doesn’t seem to work on electricity. Is there a manual anywhere? A blueprint?”
Paul cast around for the essential piece of information, but found none.
“Well, we may never know. I’m going to photograph it and research it back on board ship.” He took a snap of the device, while Suka crouched down and opened a drawer in the outer wall.
“What’s this?”
“Perzidium. The treasure of Paladium Three. Very rare, very valuable, with magnetic and electrical properties.”
Paul turned the bright blue shard of crystal over and over in his hand.
“Could it be used as fuel? Could it be what makes this thing work? No! Stop! What are you doing?”
He leapt forward just a fraction too late to prevent Suka from putting a piece of the Perzidium into a tube on the front of the capsule. A low hum pervaded the air and the periphery of the box fluoresced into life.
Paul’s foot knocked Suka off-balance and she fell backwards into the capsule, screaming as her backside hit the floor, both from pain and from fear of whatever unknown doom she might have consigned herself to.
“I’m disappearing!” Her foot was beginning to melt, the silver boots dripping.
“No!” Paul, without a second thought, took a dive into the capsule with her, trying to drag her out, but already he too was beginning to degrade, his strength crucially sapped. He possessed only enough energy to hold on to Suka and watch as her blonde curls migrated, one by one, from her head.
Suka lay on her stomach, crushed by the weight on top of her, struggling to breathe, unable to see.
Just as it seemed inevitable that her ribs would cave in and her heart would burst, the pressure lifted and she was able to take in lungfuls of air again. The blackness turned to dark spots in front of her eyes, then brightened to a blur of colour and movement.
“You’re okay? You’re alive?”
She turned to the voice. Who? Where?
A hand on her arm, then around her shoulder.
“Christ, what have you done, Suka?”
Yes, that’s my name! And this is Commander Paul. And…
The memories came back all at once, winding her with their intensity and vividness.
“We were in that place. The Hall of the Futures or whatever. Where are we now?”
They huddled beneath a stone arch in the centre of a dusty square. Many of the ancient buildings they had seen in Sevarium towered over them, and in the distance some kind of military drill was taking place, observed and cheered on by a crowd of onlookers.
“Can you stand?” Paul hauled her to her feet. She swayed at first, hanging on to him. He took his communicator from his belt and switched it on. “No signal,” he frowned.
They were halfway across the square when an official-looking man in dark robes hurried over to them.
“The Arch,” he said. “Did you come through the Arch?”
Suka and Paul exchanged a nervous look. It would be clear to their interlocutor that they were not local. He had only to look at their attire and hairstyles.
“I believe we did,” admitted Paul. “Though how is a question I can’t answer. My name is Commander Azed Paul, I’m the captain of—”
“Yes, yes, never mind,” fussed the official. “I’m the keeper of the Arch. I must take you to the Minister. Come with me, please.”
As they accompanied the keeper to the fine building that housed the government of Paladium Three, Suka noticed the event taking place was not a military drill but some kind of slave training ritual. A group of naked young men were performing a variety of lewd acts on their masters and mistresses in strict formation, to the obvious enjoyment of the crowd. Those that defaulted in any way were taken to the side, to be soundly cropped by a scary-looking official before being sent back on to the parade ground.
“We’re still in Sevarium,” she whispered to Paul. “How is this possible? It looks interesting though.”
He squeezed her hand, then they passed through the doors of the Ministry, away from the heat and dust and lust of the outdoor spectacle.
The Minister sat at a vast desk made of a sparkling deep green mineral. He looked up from signing documents, obviously interested to see the keeper.
“Varga! I had not expected to see you today. These have come from the Arch?”
“So they say.”
Paul took advantage of the fascinated silence to introduce himself and Suka.
“Oh,” said the Minister. “Intergalactic anthropologists. I did wonder if we would get any.”
“What has happened? I would like to hear your explanation.”
“Before those disgusting Chavians destroyed our civilisation, we were working on a time-travel facility. You seem to have discovered it.”
“Time travel! Then we are in…the past?”
“Yes, a hundred aeons prior to our doomsday, to be precise. Or rather, ninety-eight now. Two aeons have passed.”
“You came through the Arch as well?”
“Yes. Myself and the majority of our best engineers had time to escape destruction before the toxic waste hit our planet’s surface. We have assimilated very well into our planet’s past, as you see. Within a few aeons, Paladium Three will be at the forefront of interstellar technologies and we will be able to alter the course of time.”
“That’s frowned upon, as you know.”
“Question of survival, dear fellow. Survival of the brightest. I like that take on evolution, don’t you? And besides, there’s precious little you can do about it. Now you’re here, you’re here. For good. So you can play along with us and join in the spirit of Sevarium, or you can spend the rest of your lives in incarceration. Which will you choose, I wonder?”
“We can’t ever leave?” said Suka in a small voice.
“Can’t have you sneaking off to Federation High Control and telling tales, can we? I know what you people are like. You don’t understand our ways. We’ve had mega-aeons of being told we’re disgusting perverts who ought to be blasted into oblivion. You can go and click your tongues and voice your distaste in splendid isolation, where we don
’t have to see it. Keeper, send for the incarcerators.”
“No!” Paul stepped forward, holding up a hand. “Listen to me. You are mistaken. Suka and I, we understand your ways. And we are in sympathy with them.”
The Minister paused long enough for a sneer to form. “Really? You know, the phrase ‘I wasn’t born yesterday’ is truer for me than for most. I was born tomorrow. And I know you’re looking for a way out of this fix. Pretending you can live the Sevarian Way won’t work.”
“But we can! We came here because we had a personal, illicit interest in your way of life—one we were forbidden to indulge. We even performed the bonding.”
“Oh, come, come―”
“I took Suka to the punishment suite and we made full use of its facilities. Suka.” Paul turned to her, exasperated by the Minister’s reluctance to believe him. “Show the Minister.”
Her eyes widened. “Show him?”
“Yes.”
“Show me what?” The Minister leant forward, salaciously interested.
“Ensign, I order you to lower your trousers and present your bare backside to the Minister.”
The firmness of his voice was not to be brooked. Suka shuffled around, red-faced, and bent to lower her tight trousers, easing them, with some sucking in of breath and wincing, down over her bottom.
“Oh…I…say,” breathed the Minister, sounding awed. “You didn’t lie. You have tasted our ways. And you, Commander, you like the whip hand?”
“I do indeed. Did I say you could pull those up, Ensign?”
Suka dropped her hands, keeping her eyes on the ground, knowing if she raised them they would meet the gaze of the keeper by the door.
The Minister walked around behind her, and she felt cold fingers trail along the welts. Her skin burst into goosebumps and she emitted a tiny squeak.
“You used a cane,” he noted. “You seem to have had practice. These are expertly laid.”
“Suka is my first submissive,” confessed Paul. “As you know, our laws forbid the expression of power exchange within a sexual relationship. This was our first opportunity. But I had practiced on…soft furnishings. In my youth.”
The Minister laughed. “You poor, repressed people. Perhaps it is as well that you find yourself trapped here. Perhaps you can live freely and fully among us.”
“We would be honoured.”
“Your relationship is that of bond master and servant?” questioned the Minister. “In every respect.” His hand landed on Suka’s thigh, stiff with dried semen. “Ah, I see that it is. You use her carnally.”
Suka shivered. Paul seemed lost for words at this blatant remark.
“Well, that is good,” continued the Minister. “Your servant can cover herself now, if it pleases you, Commander.”
“You may,” he said gruffly to her, and she began to hoist the trousers, with the same discomfort as lowering them had caused.
Turning back around, she moved closer to Paul and buried her face in his arm, unable to face the Minister. Paul’s chuckle was low and affectionate and, to her relief, he pulled her closer in with a protective arm.
“Well, I find I can’t doubt you,” said the Minister, stroking his chin. “It’s a risk, I know, but I’m inclined to offer acceptance into our civilisation. On the condition, of course, that you assimilate well and undertake to respect our culture. I will place you under observation. You, Commander Paul, will undergo a course of instruction in conduct becoming a Sevarian overlord. I think you may take to it. As for your servant, she shall be prepared for her legal bonding. For the period of one quartile, you will not meet. Keeper, send for the Overseers of the Way.”
“We will not meet for…?”
“A quartile,” muttered Paul. “Equivalent of eight weeks or so.”
“But—”
Paul took her hands. “Be brave. I know you can be brave, Suka. If we do this, we can live the way we’ve always dreamed of. I want to do this, to be with you. If you want this too…”
He broke off.
Suka nodded, emboldened by Paul’s declaration.
“Yes. It’s what I want. I’m just a bit scared.”
“Face your fear. I’ll make it worth your while. Do you believe in me?”
“Yes.”
* * * *
Veiled and shrouded in white robes, Suka allowed her bonded attendants to help her up the steps to the temple. Leaving the training centre had been an unexpectedly emotional experience—in the eight weeks she had spent learning her submissive arts, she had grown close to her Paladian fellows. What a revelation it had been, to speak openly of her needs and desires with like-minded women. Frequent bouts of homesickness for her old life were tended to with almost psychic kindness by the girls she had come to view as her sisters. Soon she would be with her master, they would reassure her. His dominion over her would make everything well again. Then they would bring her the warm spiced wine of the Paladians, or a box of crystallised hola-fruit, and run her a perfumed bath.
And today, their reassurances would come to pass. She looked up through her gauzy veil at that building, recalling so exactly what had passed there before with Commander Paul that she shivered with excited desire. A real bonding now, with a real audience. She was ready for it.
Entering the temple, she felt straight away that intoxicating flowering of lust, and she looked through the crowds, eager to catch her first glimpse of Paul.
Yes, he was there. Splendidly clad in the sparkling black robes of a Sevarian bond master, Paul looked even more striking than she remembered. His bearing was prouder, his expression more confident, his head held higher—Suka would not have believed this even possible, back in the days on board ship when she had considered him an arrogant, overbearing prick. What a long time ago that seemed.
For now, the man who used to arouse only irritation caused her heart to thunder, her cheeks to flush and her thighs to dampen in anticipation.
He caught sight of her and she felt pierced by the intensity of passion and expectation in his eyes. Yes, this was right. This would be her future.
You have waited for me, Master, and now I am coming to you.
She moved through the crowds, oblivious to their noise and motion, knowing only that she and Paul would be joined forever in that unique bond that constituted the Sevarian Way.
About the Author
Justine Elyot is a UK based writer of erotic romance and erotica. Her work has appeared in numerous anthologies from Black Lace, Cleis Press, Xcite and Constable & Robinson. Her first full-length book, On Demand, was published by Black Lace in 2009, followed by The Business of Pleasure (Xcite Books) in September 2010.
Email: [email protected]
Justine Elyot loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Justine Elyot
Honeytrapped
Competitive Nature
Mi Amore: Sempre
Master Me: A Very Personal Trainer
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The Sevarian Way Page 6