"No, no fucking. But please don't leave me frustrated. Make me come until I faint."
"Where? A dungeon?"
"I was thinking the Cabaret. I want a big audience."
There was a long pause.
"Khiru? Will you do it?"
"All right, I'll do it. But no brain control. And you're in charge of the gear. Thick resina. Gag. Mask. Chains. I'll bring the whips. I'll send you my instructions first thing in the morning on Seisha Day. Until then, I don't want to see you. Are we clear?"
The woman sounded thrilled.
"We are," she breathlessly agreed. "I'll see you then."
"Probably not, but you'll feel my presence."
I whirled away and turned the corner just in time to hide from the woman as she was leaving the room. She was much taller than me, but her body lacked my curves. A typical Khyrian woman. Her face wasn't special, either. Almond-shaped eyes, straight nose, thin lips ... only her long dark hair was outstanding.
While she walked to the elevator, I also noted she wore a bracelet of red lilk on her wrist. From her special request to Khiru, I already knew she was a Southie. Since he had accepted to play with her, I wondered whether she was a Rhysh slave.
Once she was gone onto another deck, I walked down the corridor in the opposite direction, away from Khiru's office. Instead of going to the cafeteria as planned, I went back to my bedroom and questioned the Data.
Every single week added a new piece to the puzzle of Khyra.
Seisha Day was a holiday dedicated to female Southies, in honor of a legendary girl who heroically saved the lives of four male Northies during a mountain trek. On that day, Southies could choose a partner and ask him (or her) to play a scene of their liking. Generally, the holiday was an excuse for outdoor parties and various entertainment activities, including special public performances to the delight of both the participants and the audience.
In Rhysh, Seisha Day was celebrated with peculiar intensity as this was the only day in the year where slaves could express opinions and Masters had to respect them.
Thanks to this information, I understood why Khiru had accepted the woman's request. Yet, I felt betrayed. How dare he play with someone else? I was a Southie, too. He could have topped me.
Seisha Day was five weeks away, a whole Khyrian month. As Myhre confirmed later, work would be reduced to the minimum needed to ensure the safe navigation of the ship. The geology unit, like all the other science units, would certainly take the day off.
"What are we going to do?" I tested Myhre, wondering whether she knew of the special happening in the Cabaret.
"I don't know yet. On Khyra, so many events are organized that it's hard to select one. We have parades, theatre performances, food parties, competitions, fun fairs, all sorts of outdoor activities. Even for the kids. In the evening, most people attend public scenes, or go home for privacy. Here, we'll see what's on the entertainment board and select the least boring event."
"Won't you have another public scene with Jova?"
"No. One is enough! I wouldn't mind being in the audience for a change. What about you? I don't want to drag you to another sex show if you don't feel like it. There'll be other things to do. I'm sure they'll organize special dinners at the Therms and in Vazgor Park."
Ten days later, the activities for Seisha Day were published in the online bulletin and on various boards on the spaceship. While Myhre was looking for gastronomic parties, I read the list of performances scheduled to be held in the Cabaret. Khiru and a Southie named Svelia had booked the left stage, the one with the wooden posts, in the early evening. His name was followed by an elegant R, indicating his rank as a Rhysh Master. Svelia didn't have that privilege.
I acted surprised.
"Myhre, what do you think of this?"
"What? Oh, Khiru's on? That is so unexpected! Not that he doesn't like public events, but here on the spaceship ... and now..."
She looked at me with a mixture of excitement and pain in her eyes.
"He shouldn't do this to you."
For a reason I couldn't understand, I felt compelled to defend him.
"He does what he wants. It's not like we had a relationship. And besides, I'm over him. Really, I don't care."
"You don't? Well, then, maybe we should go? It's a treat to see a Rhysh Master perform. We'd better reserve our seats," she said, eager to believe my lies.
"Can we do that?"
"Absolutely. Especially you, oh dear Earthling friend of mine. You have every right on this ship!" she laughed.
"If that's the case, I want the best seats. Up front."
I was dying to see Khiru's face when he saw me in the first row.
Chapter FOURTEEN
"Do you have a similar holiday dedicated to Northies?" I asked Naari while we were waiting for the scene to start.
When Myhre had told him we would watch Khiru perform in the Cabaret, Naari had decided to accompany us. I had a feeling he disapproved of me being there, but he didn't mention it. He probably thought his presence by my side would be comforting. It wasn't. If anything, he made me more nervous. I didn't want Naari to see how committed I still was to his friend, and I knew I would shiver the moment he came on stage.
"Not really. Southies will argue that Northies are in power every day of the year and don't need a special event to impose their wills on their partners. However, we celebrate another erotic holiday simply called Play Day. Its origin is less dramatic than Seisha's story. I suspect it was established because people had so much fun on Seisha Day, they wanted another reason to party."
"Bread and circuses for the masses," I mused. "So what do you do on Play Day?"
"Pretty much the same as on Seisha Day, except Southies don't get their say in the matter," he laughed.
Suddenly a spotlight illuminated the stage, and conversations died everywhere. There was no other show going on at that time – no Northie wanted to compete with a Rhysh Master – and demand for seats exceeded the capacity surrounding the beam stage. To satisfy a majority of requests, the Cabaret had been rearranged. Wooden posts were installed on the theatrical stage in the back of the hall, and couches were positioned to offer everyone the best possible view.
Jova, Myhre, Naari and I sat up front, close enough to smell the fear and arousal of the woman who'd soon be bound between the posts.
The wooden shafts were mounted on a circular platform that was slightly higher than the floor. I was impressed they could be bent at various junction points. They looked so sturdy, I thought they were made of one piece. In the current set-up, the posts formed a diamond shape, open on the side facing the audience.
Next to the platform with the wood structure stood a tall cabinet. Behind it, a bottle of water lay on a table.
As the crowd silently anticipated the arrival of the performers, music became louder. It was dense and threatening, its bass line thumping inside my chest and making me uncomfortable.
When the nerve-jangling tune stopped, Khiru and Svelia entered the audience's view from the side of the stage and stepped into the light.
Svelia wore a full-body costume of black resina. Even her head was covered by the thick material, with a large hole exposing her eyes and nose. Her mouth was sealed, not only by the hood, but also by a strap locked behind her head. I figured the strap held a gag between her teeth. Her long hair, which I had admired a few days earlier, was threaded through another hole on top of her head, and landed on her back in a ponytail.
Contrasting the black resina, metal shackles adorned her wrists and ankles, while a wide matching belt constricted her waist and a collar held her head up straight.
She was more beautiful in fetish apparel than she was for real.
But her beauty was nothing compared to Khiru's sex appeal. Dressed in leather pants with a white shirt that fell loosely around his waist, he affected a nonchalant look that belied the determination on his face.
When his eyes found me, I regretted my seat in the first row. I wan
ted to impress him, but I was already losing my composure. He stared at me until I looked away. When I turned back, he was tying Svelia between the posts. His face revealed no feelings. Mine, I was sure, betrayed intense embarrassment. Why did he always defeat me so easily?
Trying to focus on the scene instead of my inner turmoil, I observed the bondage procedure.
Svelia stood in the center of the diamond-shaped cage. Khiru had ordered her to spread her legs so he could secure her ankles to opposite posts. Next, he tied her wrists to hooks above her head, with enough distance between her arms to show her face. For complete immobilization, he chained both sides of her waist belt to junction points in the post assemblage. Finally, he connected her collar to the highest point of the diamond.
She was hooked, to say the least.
Khiru stepped back, admired his work for a few seconds, and gently kicked the side of the platform in front of him.
The platform hosting the post structure began to rotate. When Svelia faced the side of the stage and continued to spin, exposing her back to us, I discovered that her resina costume only covered her front. Her back, from neck to feet, was naked, with the exception of the metal restraints.
"That was expected," Naari whispered to me. "He can't whip her if she's covered."
I nodded, but his words hardly registered. I couldn't take my eyes off the clear demarcation between her front and back. How did the costume stay on her body?
"It's a special kind of resina," Naari explained. "It sticks to the flesh."
"It must keep her hot."
"It does. And she'll suffer when she removes it."
Khiru was now opening the cabinet, disclosing an interesting assortment of striking tools and picking up his first weapon: a whip with many short, thin straps. Duly armed, he returned to the platform and positioned himself behind Svelia. He waited until they had completed a round – during which I saw the woman close her eyes – before he lifted his arm to strike.
Despite the gag, I heard Svelia moan.
The flogger repeatedly hit her back, ass and legs with a consistent tempo. After three revolutions of the platform, her flesh had turned a distinct shade of pink. Khiru struck her harder, and Svelia winced from the pain. The posts creaked as she struggled pointlessly; the chains, stretched taut, held her in place.
After the flogger, Khiru picked up a wooden paddle pierced with holes. I knew that such openings prevented the air from forming a protective layer between the paddle and the skin, thereby increasing the intensity of the strike. Judging from the sound of impact, they did a good job. Again, Svelia moaned hard, but she could do nothing to prevent the marks left by the paddle. The color of her flesh intensified from pink to bright red.
The paddling continued for six rotations. Next came a green cane that looked like bamboo.
It was fascinating to watch Svelia's face and back as she turned. She tried to lower her head, but the collar chained to the posts forced her to maintain her posture. She couldn't hide the tears running down her cheeks any more than she could hide the welts covering her bottom. Both sights were increasingly distressful.
The cane whistled through the air and hit its target each time, drawing lines upon lines on Svelia's back.
Svelia's moans took on a new tone. She was no longer crying, but riding the wave and roaring with lust. She opened her eyes for a short moment, and where I'd seen misery, I read ecstasy.
Khiru chose that moment to pick up yet another whip, this one made of a single strip. This would hurt more than all the other ones. The cut would be deeper, concentrated in one long ridge. Not many Southies could take that level of pain.
Khiru stepped off the platform. He waited until Svelia's back was turned to the right position before striking. The crack of the whip on her flesh was astounding. My heart missed a beat, and I unconsciously gripped Naari's hand that conveniently rested on my thigh.
Svelia writhed in her bonds like a trapped snake. She looked enraptured, lost in a world where the only things that existed were the bite of the whip and the vibrations of pleasure it sent through her. By the time the platform spun another circle, she was eager for the next hit, raising her hips to meet the leather strip as soon as possible.
Khiru struck with the same strength. Beads of sweat curled on his forehead, but his eyes stayed clear and focused. He was in total control.
My lust for him grew to unfathomable proportions.
I knew I could be Svelia. With Khiru in charge, I could take as many lashings as she did. It would be pure bliss, the ultimate fantasy. How could I ever convince him to try me?
The platform rotated ten more times, bringing as many new welts on Svelia's flesh. She wasn't bleeding, though; Khiru boasted a prowess that demonstrated the value of Rhysh training. At the end of the last tour, the whip landed one more time, and Svelia stretched like the string of a bow. A loud groan, the sound of an animal exulting the raw power of sex, resonated in the hall. Several spasms shook her before she withered in her bonds.
While the audience applauded and cheered, Khiru stopped the platform. He removed Svelia's collar and gag, and left her hanging while he methodically replaced his equipment in the cabinet. When Svelia grumbled incoherently to indicate that she was back from her trip, Khiru picked up the bottle of water behind the platform and let her drink. Once she indicated she had enough, he finished the bottle, put it on the floor, and proceeded to untie her.
Around us, most spectators were abandoning their couches to get refreshments at the bar or move to another location. Myhre and Jova were in a hurry to go to a dinner party in the park, but I wanted to stay. I was interested to see how Khiru would treat Svelia after the scene, and how she would react. I also secretly hoped that Khiru would come talk to me if I was on my own.
Getting rid of Naari was more difficult, but Myhre saw the plea in my eyes and dragged him along with them. I promised I would find them in the park.
By the time they had gone, Khiru had already unlocked the chains around Svelia's ankles and the waist belt. The woman was weak and shaky. Leaning his chest against her back in support, he freed her wrists and caught her in his arms when she collapsed. Scooping her up, he left the stage without looking back.
I waited a long time, believing he would come back after leaving Svelia in a safe place. However, when a new crowd began to fill the Cabaret for the next show, I abandoned hope. Disappointed, but with a resurgence of rage in my heart, I left for Vazgor Park.
Chapter FIFTEEN
Khiru's scene with Svelia had revived my determination to meet him again, although I wasn't sure whether I wanted his attention more than payback for his perceived insult. It would have been easy to pursue him on the bridge, but I preferred to wait for a chance meeting elsewhere on the ship. But Khiru never ate at the cafeteria, relaxed in the Therms or attended Twilight events. He was nowhere to be found.
I couldn't believe his duties as a member of the Officer Corps still kept him so busy while the rest of the Noncha's crew was practically on holiday.
We were five months away from our destination, cruising past solar systems the Khyrians had already investigated. There were no new discoveries to be made, no known threats to fear. As a result, bored crew members roamed the ship, invading entertainment facilities at any time of the day.
Khiru seemed to be keeping a permanent watch on the first deck. Since the mission was technically over, his obsession was even more puzzling.
The enigma was finally solved when Myhre and I overheard a conversation in the Therms and learned that Khiru had recently shifted to the Green Team's rotation. In other words, he worked while we slept, and vice-versa. Even so, there were times when he could have joined us in the Blue cafeteria – their breakfast often coincided with our dinner – but he never did.
It was easy to jump to the conclusion that Khiru was avoiding me, and that I would have to force him to see me one last time before we landed. If I couldn't make him reconsider his decision while we were still on the spacecra
ft, I'd lose him forever. Once back on Khyra, he'd have a whole planet as a place to hide.
Gradually, my plan became clearer. The ultimate goal was for Khiru to realize that I was a Southie worth training. Despite Naari's convictions that Khiru refused to make commitments because of his past, I still believed he didn't trust my ability to submit and would not allow himself to love me if I couldn't be his proper plaything. When I had shown him my potential as a Southie, he would open his heart and make me the happiest girl on Khyra.
That was the theory, anyway. In practice, I would have to show my submissive value by playing a scene in front of Khiru. I needed a willing partner, a public stage, and, more critically, a pretext to attract Khiru out of his Green schedule and into the trap.
Although my plan had many loopholes, it was the best I could come up with. It would also give me revenge for his Seisha Day performance with Svelia. My gut told me Khiru would hate seeing me whipped by another Northie.
Why had I become so infatuated with him? What possessed me to think that ignoring me was an insult? Why couldn't I just let go and move on? Those reactions were not like me at all.
I had known rejection before, but I didn't remember being so upset about it. "One lost, ten gained," was my motto. My heart mended rapidly. Most importantly, I was too proud to hang onto a man who didn't want me. I'd put a curse on him and flirt with his best friend the next day, but I would never persist in a futile pursuit. I was neither a psycho nor a stalker. So why was I turning into such an awful person?
I suppose any shrink would find ample justifications for my dementia.
First of all, and lest we forget, I had been "abducted" by aliens. Although the truth was more subtle, one fact remained: I had abandoned my home planet with very low odds that I would return. I was the only Earthling among beings who, despite their resemblance to humans, were distinctive enough to remind me of my isolation. I was traveling through space at speeds I couldn't begin to comprehend, trapped for months in the confines of a spacecraft. And I was heading to a two-mooned planet where the sky was a different color, and where I would lose all the touchstones in my genetic memory dating back to the Cro-Magnon era.
Worthy of a Master: The Tale of a Perfect Slave Page 13