"Your race will soon be extinct," I finished for her.
"Exactly. Except if we find a pure strain of complementary DNA and can use it to treat ours."
She blushed and avoided my eyes. Then, everything made sense.
"Our DNA ... that's why you came on a mission to Earth."
She didn't reply, but I knew I was right. We both kept silent until an uncomfortable thought brushed my mind. I thought I'd been smart to use my DNA as bait for Khyrian research on our common origins. But the Khyrians had been much smarter. With any luck, my healthy genes could save their race.
"Is that why I was allowed to come with you?"
Myhre hesitated.
"Yes. It wasn't planned that way at all. We had no intention of taking anyone from Earth, and since we didn't want your planet to be aware of our presence, inviting people to Khyra was out of the question, too. Our idea was only to bring back samples of tissue. In two years, we collected enough Earth DNA for our purposes, but then you burst into that cave..."
She laughed. "You can't imagine how upset we all were. Two years without a problem, and at the last minute, you pop up! Khiru had a bad time coping with Khyra's Council."
"Did they blame him?"
"He was in charge, so yes, they blamed him. But that wasn't the worst part. They also ordered him to take you on board. He argued that he could use a beecee to render you harmless, at least until we were out of reach. It didn't matter if you said anything once the landing party was back on the Noncha. We are invisible to your best radars, and you don't have the technology to follow us in space yet. But the Council would hear none of it. I believe they had already understood the advantage of bringing back a living Earthling. It would considerably boost our genome-recovery program. So they insisted on..."
She searched for the right word.
"Abducting me?" I helped.
"I suppose, yes."
Another long pause.
"Are you angry?"
I wasn't – after all, I had my own reasons to be here – but I figured I might pretend a little.
"Well, that's not very civilized for a so-called higher civilization."
"I know, we all know," she sighed. "Then again, we didn't really abduct you. You chose to come."
I nodded and remembered the sequence of events in the cave. "So when I asked, and he first refused, Khiru was just putting on a show for me, wasn't he?"
"Yes. When he received the order from the Council, he decided to play it bold and let you take the decision we wanted you to take. You had already hinted at your loneliness on Earth, and he was confident he'd read your mind correctly."
"What if I hadn't asked to come? What would he have done?"
Just to see him use the cuff again, I wished I'd been more of a rebel.
"Ask Khiru. He'll spare you no detail."
We both grinned, and I told Myhre I was happy to be with them. Maybe I could help them bring women back to power!
"Ah, but here we come to your second question. Women are very powerful on Khyra and extremely respected. Hey, they need us so badly! The only reason why men outnumber us on the ship is that they outnumber us everywhere, but we have the same rights, if not more. And being such a small number can be a huge advantage. There's no single woman on Khyra, believe me. We all end up with three or four lifepartners."
"Three or four?" I gasped.
Dismissing my strong disapproval, Myhre continued. She was clearly on a roll now.
"Actually it's more than an option," she said, "it's a social convention. First, more male partners increase chances for the woman to conceive a child. But also, imagine how mad most men would become if they remained bachelors all their lives!"
"Meaning you have to take four husbands?"
That was an awful thought. Between the number of socks to pick up in the house and the fights over watching sports programs, living with more than one man was frightening as hell. And what about sex?
"You don't have to, but you'd better have a good reason not to. It would be like refusing communal work. Two partners is a bare minimum. Not that you should take them right away, only when you and your first partner are ready. Jova's my second partner, you know."
"He is? Where's your first one?"
"Liu is a teacher and he stayed on Khyra. We've been together for ten years now, so he can use a bit of freedom. And this trip was a nice honeymoon for Jova and me."
I needed time to assimilate all this before I could look at the puzzle again. I suggested to go dive in the pool, which we did.
Chapter SIX
After two months of constant acceleration, the Noncha reached its cruising speed, and the engines stopped. If everything went according to the books, they would only be fired up again for the deceleration phase. Between those two power burns, the trajectory remained stable, and shields were raised around the vessel to keep it safe. Apart from daily maintenance and scientific experiments, the crew would have little to do during those quiet months. Engineers, pilots and technicians would spend much of their newly acquired free time on Skeda.
I was also going to enter a new phase on the trip, although in my case, it was an increase of activity that lay ahead of me. I had spent the first months observing a new lifestyle and studying its effects on me. For many years, I'd dreamed of pirates and knights, collars and boots, cuffs and chains. Suddenly, those dreams were within reach, and I wouldn't remain an observer for much longer. Temptation was teasing. But fear was equally paralyzing. Week after week, I became more restless and agitated.
Always helpful, Vhar and Naari had noticed my growing tension and kindly offered to release it by bringing me to their beds – or entering mine. I turned down both offers, even though they were most elegantly presented.
Both men assumed I was afraid of anything too weird, and I chose not to contradict them for the time being, as it made my refusal easier to accept. They hastened to assure me that it would be sweet and normal sex. But Vhar was not only my teacher, he was also ten years younger than me; although he bragged that his skills had nothing to do with age, he failed to convince me.
As for Naari, he was my best male friend. Despite his essential duties on the ship, he used every opportunity to be with me, help me adjust, show me around, and introduce me to their intricate computer databases. He was kind and considerate, funny, and always good-humored. Unfortunately, I wasn't in love with him. When I tried to explain this to him, he argued – just like Vhar had done the week before – that he only wanted to have sex, not a love relationship. But it was too hard for me to think of sex as casual entertainment, free of any emotional consequences. The more Naari insisted – "your body needs it," "you'll feel more relaxed" – the more I thought of Khiru.
The dark-haired officer was the true reason for my abstinence. If I had any chance with him, I didn't want to waste it by sleeping with other men.
To celebrate our successful launch into hyperspace, Myhre and I decided to spend the evening at the Therms with Jova and Naari. At noon, we ordered a meal from the kitchen and reserved a table in a quiet and hopefully dry corner, then set off to run our own errands.
After lunch, Naari came to my room to show me how to enter and use the Data, a formidable official databank compiling information in all areas of science, history, geography and culture. On Khyra, local, regional or global authorities continuously updated the system, and the Council office sent an abstract to the Noncha every day. Next to the Data, Khyrians also surfed on dozens of different Internet-like networks, handled by private parties and individuals, but those were not accessible on board.
It would have been an interesting and carefree afternoon if Naari hadn't added a casual comment about our forthcoming party: "If we're lucky, maybe Khiru will do us the honor of joining us."
My eyes were still glued to the mediaframe, but my mind went for a ride of its own. You don't want to know how my sex reacted.
Khiru was finally going to spend a whole evening with us. With me. At the pools.
As the full implication sank in, a million butterflies came to life in my belly. I would be naked. But so would he. And perhaps that was a sure way of finding whether he was interested in me.
After a shortened session on the DAT, I faked a long yawn and sent Naari off on the pretext that I would take a nap before the party.
Once he was gone, I logged myself back onto the Data, grateful that I now had such a useful tool at my disposal. There were so many questions to which I needed clear answers, and there was at least one I wanted solved for tonight. Somewhat struggling with Khyrian characters, I typed "Northie" in the search box I had summoned in the corner of the mediaframe, and a new page opened instantly. It was the sexology science folder.
A Northie was a dominant, a top. Its counterpart was a Southie, a submissive, a bottom. To distinguish themselves, some of them wore lilk bracelets with an engraved letter indicating their sexual inclination. Some couples created personal designs to indicate their commitment to each other. Both the dominant and the submissive wore the same bracelet, except with different letters. I had seen such bracelets before; Myhre and Jova wore red ones with a golden thread tracing the letters.
There was no classification for men or women. Northies referred to either male or female dominants, gay or straight, swappers or possessors.
There was a third class of people: those whose genes indicated no clear preference and liked to switch from one tendency to another. They were called Midis.
What was more interesting was the origin of the words, which, strangely enough, dated back to a kids' summer camp.
At the age of fourteen, children began their sexual education: a series of courses spread across four years with the aim of helping them find their own inclinations, understand them, and make the best use of them. Other academic goals were to understand reproduction principles (taught in the first year), but also pleasure, how it worked, and why it was different for every individual (fourth-year program). Courses were based on games and theatre plays. For instance, kids would act out the Khyrian equivalent of cowboys-and-Indians. Teachers were there to observe, not interfere, and note who was most willing to play the hunted cowboy or the torturing Indian. Kids would become different characters in different settings, and after a year or two, their tendencies became clearer as they automatically leaned toward dominant or submissive roles. A DNA analysis was carried out in parallel to confirm practical facts.
Children didn't obtain those results until the end of their fourth year. While some of them had already a clear idea of who they were, others hesitated. Some would hesitate forever. Which was no problem, either.
At the end of their sexual-education program, kids were sent to a special camp and separated according to their preferences. The first time those camps were organized, the dominant children headed north while submissives went to a location in the south. After the camp experience, the children took to referring to themselves as Northies and Southies, and the nicknames stuck.
More than the geographical detail, this long explanation said a lot about the Khyrians' attitude toward sex. It was no trivial matter.
The Data chapter on Northies and Southies ended with an important note. Those classifications only related to sexual gene programming, not social or psychological traits. A person dominant in the bedroom might be submissive in the workplace, and vice-versa.
I instinctively knew that. My whole self yearned to kneel in front of a ruthless master, but only if he planned to give me mind-shattering orgasms.
Speaking of ruthless masters, I was about to see Khiru for the first time in weeks. On my way to the geology unit where I would pick up Naari, I remembered Khiru was wearing a bracelet, too. A thick, dark one. I had never paid attention to the inscription, but I was willing to bet the fortune I didn't have that he was as far north as could be.
The evening of recreation at the pool started poorly for me. Khiru was late. While Myhre, Jova and Naari had a great time swimming, eating and chatting, I had nourished such expectations to see my fantasy man that my mood turned sour when I wrongly concluded he wouldn't show up.
I was daydreaming in a hot bath, hardly paying attention to the latest gossip about Myhre's colleagues, when Khiru materialized in the doorway in his uniform.
Although I had spent the better part of the evening naked, I became conscious of my body at once, especially my breasts, gently held up by the water. As Khiru closed in on us, I wished I could pour a flask of soapy bubbles into our translucent bath. I crossed my legs and immediately regretted it when he cast a glance at precisely what I was trying to hide.
"Hey, we thought you'd never join us," Myhre said cheerfully. "C'mon, get undressed and dive in."
"No, I'll grab a bite first. Why don't you join me at the table instead?"
It was steaming hot in the Therms, but I wrapped myself in a towel before sitting on an armchair at Khiru's side. Half an hour later, I was so enthralled with our chat that I didn't notice the towel falling off my shoulders. When I finally did, it didn't seem to matter anymore, and I let it go.
Khiru smiled.
I could hardly believe how friendly he was. Posing question after question, he wanted to hear every detail about my adjustment, my daily activities and my first impressions. His attention was so exclusive that our friends went for a last drink at the pool bar before retreating to their bedrooms. We didn't miss them.
I tried to summarize what I'd been up to during the last two months. I was particularly proud of my progress in Khyrian language and impressed him by my knowledge of their history and culture. I avoided mentioning Northies and Southies, but I cast a glance at his wrist and wasn't surprised to find a dark purple bracelet indicating his unequivocal preference for dominance. More curiously, the initial for Northie was intertwined with another one in an elegant, cursive font, a letter that I'd never seen on anyone else. However, I was too shy to ask him personal questions, especially when they were related to sex, and made a mental note to check its significance in the Data the day after.
When I finally noticed our friends had already left, it was after midnight for us, and the Green Team had already started to take over the premises for a pre-lunch swim or massage. I should have been asleep, but I was bursting with energy.
Khiru, however, had stopped questioning me. He merely nodded and stared at me while I continued to fuel our conversation with insignificant babble. I was afraid if I stopped talking, he would put an end to our wonderful evening and send us to bed.
I was right, except for a tiny detail. As I brought an empty glass to my lips for the third time in half an hour, he made a decision and stood up.
"Come with me."
Without waiting for my reply, he grabbed my arm to help me to my feet. Then, he picked up my clothes and led me to the door.
"Wait, let me put on my clothes."
"No need to."
I scurried along to keep up with his long strides. At first, I worried about how people would react to a naked girl running alongside a fully clad man, but then I corrected myself. Khyrians had seen way worse than this.
I was panting when we reached his bedroom.
The door slid closed. On Khiru's order, the light went soft.
I felt trapped. In a good way.
When he scooped me in his arms and lay me down in the middle of the large bed, I reveled in the dream-come-true sensation. I closed my eyes when his hand started caressing me, exploring every bump and crevice. His firm, yet tender touch made my hair tingle, my lips part, my fingers claw the sheets with growing desire. I was breathing faster, moaning my contentment and full acceptance of his claims to me.
Hearing the faint shuffling of clothes being removed, I opened my eyes to watch his well-toned body lean close to mine. Not close enough. I wanted to press it against my skin, stroke his back, capture him the way he was capturing me.
I gripped his broad shoulders to bring him down, but he stopped me and held my wrists over my head. Without giving me time to react,
his other hand continued teasing and arousing me. My inability to respond increased my excitement to the point where my vagina literally gasped for air. Man, was I ready...
But Khiru kept going, using his tongue as expertly as his fingers, tasting my salty skin as if preparing to eat it. When he bit my nipple, my sex clenched violently. He sucked and nibbled until the pain subsided. Then he moved to the other breast to inflict the same harsh, but so pleasurable rush.
There was something feral in the way he groped and pinched and licked. He was a panther playing with me before the fatal bite. Yet his animal lust was under complete control. Although I could tell his penis was as hard as a rock and ready to impale me, he dismissed his own needs to exacerbate mine. He knew where he wanted to go, and would take no shortcut to get there. No sweat, no haste, no movement that was uncalled for. Only the glow in his dark eyes revealed the passion he shared with me.
I had never felt so enraptured, nor needy.
Still holding me down, he slithered over me, his legs pushing mine apart, and guided himself into my very moist entrance. He went all the way in and stopped, taking possession of me. He was staring at me, the weight of his mind equaling that of his body, but I couldn't confront his eyes. For the first time in my life, I was under someone else's complete dominance, yet a dominance that served my needs. The feeling was new, strong and beautiful.
I wanted him to fuck me hard, but resisted raising my hips. Instead, I loosened my muscles and relaxed, showing my trust and admitting I was his to do with as he pleased.
He pulled back and moved in again, grazing my sensitive passage with each prod. Waves of pleasure rolled inside me, each of them growing stronger with his ebb and flow. Instead of the terminal explosion I was craving, little fireworks built up more tension.
Unable to escape Khiru's hold, I saw flashes of light in my head, like signals of overheating. I was going to pass out, and I hadn't even come yet.
I did pass out. But before that, Khiru brushed my clitoris – oh, merely a flick of a finger – and I was finally in orgasmic heaven, thanking all deities for allowing me to walk among them.
Worthy of a Master: The Tale of a Perfect Slave Page 6