by Zena Zion
“You are not to leave the palace grounds under any circumstances. You are not to enter any of the areas designated as restricted under any circumstances. You will never refuse a direct order. It is in your best interests to ensure that I am kept happy with you.”
No it isn't, she thought with a surge of bitterness.
He seemed confused when she kept quiet, and hesitated before continuing. “Your meals will be supplied for you. You will eat what is given to you. You are not permitted to drink intoxicants, and you are not permitted to attempt to steal food. If your rations are inadequate or you have trouble digesting them, you will tell me, and I will make the necessary adjustments.
“You may speak with and make the acquaintance of the other servants. However, you will not be allowed to fraternize with them. Your body belongs to me.”
She turned to look at him. He was one of the most beautiful men she had ever encountered in her entire life. But when he said such disgusting things to her, all she wanted to do was grab the steering yoke, yank it to the side with all of her strength, and kill them both in a crash.
“Do you have any questions?”
“No,” she replied, and she could not keep the hatred out of her voice.
He stopped at an intersection on the smooth steel road, and looked over at her. His expression had gone from neutral to deeply curious. “You seem upset.”
She couldn't help it. She was still in the car, but this was all so ridiculous and disgusting that she finally just burst out laughing. The sound bounced off the interior of the hover car, harsh and just edging on hysterical.
He stared at her in astonishment. “Did I say something funny?” The threatening edge in his voice would have intimidated her if she had any hope of survival in her head. But as it was, his ridiculous question only made her laugh harder.
“I seem upset?” She echoed in a sarcastic tone.
“Right, I can't imagine why I would be upset. I've been kidnapped, beaten, tortured, humiliated in dozens of ways, pawed at by a bunch of filthy animals, and now sold off to a guy who tells me garbage like 'your body is mine' with a straight face, and intends to spend the rest of my life raping me on a nightly basis. If any woman is capable of listening to the absolute insanity that is pouring out of your mouth without laughing, then she's a better actress than I.”
She closed her mouth and looked away, completely uninterested in his reaction. Damn it, she thought, her head already starting to pound. She'd promised herself that her rebellion would not take place until she had made sure that he couldn't return her to the slavers.
But then this big, pompous idiot had decided to try laying down the law with her, all the while acting as if the situation was perfectly normal. She just couldn't help laughing and being critical. It wasn't just a matter of pride. It was just that difficult to sit there listening to a lecture from Crazy Town and not say anything.
Oh well, it's done now. I might as well just deal with whatever he decides to do.
“What did I tell you about talking back?” He asked in that same cold tone. “Do you enjoy the use of the pain inducer?”
“No, but I'm sure that you enjoy using it on innocent women.”
He actually shut up then, and when she looked over, she saw him staring back at her in shock.
They spent the rest of the drive in silence. He did not turn the car around, and he did not try to speak with her again until they pulled in through the gates of the palace.
She had to admit; it was a damn nice place, especially after months in the slave-pens. The high walls of the palace were made of polished metal that gleamed in the sun, its top patrolled by a series of automated cameras and gun turrets.
Beyond, she could see one of the rambling gardens that the beast-men were so fond of extending back to either side of the courtyard that they drove through. In the center of the enormous space, a single round tower jutted skyward, narrowing gradually as it rose.
It followed everything else she had seen of Jannan architecture: organic curves, impossibly tall spires and a tendency to build everything out of polished metal or stone. The tower had to have at least twenty stories on it.
Small, round balconies sprouted beneath many of the windows, almost looking like tiny leaves on the tall stalk of a plant. Now and again, she saw one of their fliers dart in or out of one of the windows.
They drove through the courtyard and into the vehicle bay at the base of the tower. A small cluster of servants in black and gold livery immediately hurried over to the vehicle. Kaelon got out and went around to her side as two of the servants reached up to unpack the hover car's roof pod of whatever else he had bought in town that day.
She fought the urge to flinch as he opened the door and reached in for her. When she did not take his hand, he grabbed her arm and pulled her from the car, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “You would do well to move more quickly when I want something from you.”
“I'm not doing well no matter what I try,” she retorted. Again, he gave her that surprised look, but didn't reply.
As the servants unpacked the car, and two others started going over it with what looked like diagnostic devices, her new captor led her to an elevator pod at the center of the vehicle bay. He had let go of her arm, but still stood far closer to her than she felt comfortable with.
This close up, his huge size was even more obvious. She could smell the clean, masculine odor of his body, a mixture of sweat and what smelled like a very good cologne, and suddenly wished that it wasn't so pleasant.
He was attractive. That was a problem. She needed to rebel with all her heart, and be as extreme and determined as possible about it, if she was going to convince him to hit the detonate button on her collar remote.
It wouldn't be easy to do that if she might have contemplated going to bed with him under better circumstances. Get it out of your head. This man is an asshole who keeps slaves and is going to try to rape you later. Just keep that in mind, and see if you can't find something you can use as a weapon.
Dying quickly was her best option. But it might actually be worth it to die quickly if she managed somehow to take him with her.
“You are very quiet,” he commented as the elevator pod rose.
“Believe me when I say that you don't want to hear anything that I want to say right now.”
“What do you mean?”
She crossed her arms over her breasts. “Just exactly that. That little speech you gave about how I'm going to obey your every command and I'd better do this, and I'd better not do that, and I'd better be ready for you to fuck me tonight? The fact that you said it with a straight face and don't see a thing wrong with it shows just how sick you are. Not only are you a monster like the rest of your people, but you're also out of your damn mind.”
“I don't think I like your tone,” he said in mild disapproval. His hand slipped into a pouch on his broad leather belt and came out with the teardrop-shaped white-collar remote. “Am I going to have to use this?”
“Probably,” she replied in that same deadpan tone. “Not that you're going to be able to use it for much besides torture and kill me.”
He stood in thoughtful silence for a few moments as the elevator pod finally slowed. “You seem to be implying that I will not be capable of gaining your obedience.”
“Oh, you might be able to force me into doing a few things. But let's face facts. Your people are a bunch of kidnapping, slaving, murdering rapists, and because of this, you could never earn my respect.”
Confusion crossed his face. “Why do you keep calling us rapists? I haven't stolen anyone else's woman.”
She looked at him in open disgust as the door opened. “I don't think you get it. I don't belong to some other man. I belong to myself.”
“You belong to me,” he corrected in a firm tone as he led her out of the elevator pod and into a round lounge area.
It was enormous, its furniture all set against the curved sides, leaving a strangely bare spot at its
very center. It almost looked like either the room was in the process of having something added to it, or that that space is used for some kind of performances.
There was so much about the beast-men that she didn't know, or that seemed completely nonsensical, that sometimes she didn't even bother trying to follow the logic of what they did or made.
She spoke as he walked her through the room toward the spiral staircase at its far end. “You just go ahead and keep thinking that. But the truth is, I'm a free woman who has been kidnapped and forced into slavery, and you're going along with it because you want to fuck me. And I guess, I can't stop you.
After all, collar or no collar you're bigger than stronger than me. And you'll probably force me to have sex with you, because you're a big, egocentric brute who doesn't think anything is wrong with it. But make no mistake. That doesn't make you my Master. It makes you my rapist. And that is all you will ever be to me.”
Something strange happened then. Instead of hitting the inducer button on the remote or doing something else to punish her, he stepped around in front of her, and took her by the shoulders. She froze.
He stared down into her face; his green eyes filled with what looked almost like worry. “I thought that you were properly trained.”
“Trained, nothing. What they teach us at the slave quarters is to be afraid of guys like you, to the point where we will obey any order that is barked at us. They don't wave some magic wand that makes us suddenly enjoy being a goddamn slave.
Some of us fake enjoying it in an attempt to live longer, because that is what you do with a rapist who could kill you at any moment. But no. If by ‘proper training’ you mean that I've learned to like this hell that I've been left in? None of us have proper training. What we have are no options at all.”
“And you hate me for this?”
“I hate you for profiting from it. I hate you for going along with it at all. I hate you for treating me like property. I certainly hate you treating my body like it's property. You can do whatever you want. I know I can't stop you. But if you're comforting yourself with the idea that when you force your dick into me it's something that I secretly like? You're wrong.”
He let her go, his eyes widening. After several moments of simply staring at her, though, he seemed to recover. Expression closing, he sighed through his nose and looked up the stairs.
“Your quarters are up one level, first door on the right. Go and clean up. You may have a nap after that. It's fairly obvious that you need one.”
Yeah, a dirt nap. If death is my only way out of this hellhole, that I really hope it comes soon. And I hope I can take you with me.
She looked back once on her way up the stairs, and saw him watching her, still wearing that strange look of almost worry on his face.
Noble Monsters
A week later, Irina stood in front of the mirror in her small, Spartan bedchamber and turned a few times to check out the party dress she has been given to wear. Not bad, she thought. If there was one thing that she had to admit, it was that Kaelon had taste. The sleek, pale blue sleeveless gown sparkled as she moved, but felt smooth against her skin.
It had been a very strange first week. Despite the sharp cadence of orders that he had greeted her with, Kaelon had backed off after their first conversation, and had never actually gotten around to summoning her to his chambers.
She was almost disappointed that he was making things easier on her. She wasn't supposed to be comfortable here. Though he still forced her into certain tasks, such as acting as his cupbearer when he was conducting business or receiving guests, he had done nothing to her sexually. He had barely even touched her.
Now and again, she had noticed him staring at her with open desire. But he had done nothing about it at all, past a few abortive attempts at seduction. After his complete attitude of entitlement when they had first met, this was even more confusing than anything else he did.
A tap on the door told her that Miriam was waiting for her outside. Miriam was the head of the house servants, a tall, older Jewish woman with black and white hair pulled back into a braid, and shrewd, dark brown eyes.
She came in a moment later, looking as neat as always in her black livery. The only member of the servants who did not wear that simple trouser uniform was Irina herself. The matronly woman stopped in the doorway, and took a good look at her. “That's not half bad.”
“I was just thinking that. Any pointers on handling tonight?” She was very nervous at the prospect of wandering around in a slave's collar at some party of Kaelon’s, surrounded by the rich and powerful among the beast-men.
“Since you're Kaelon's property, you should be protected from any of the rowdier guests. Attempting to use a slave such as you is a grave insult to the host. Kaelon is respected and feared by almost everyone. Chances are, none of them will even try it. So don't worry.”
“That's not very comforting.”
Miriam offered a sad smile. She had told Irina a bit of her story. She had been captured twenty years ago. A former Merchant spacer, Miriam had instead ended up the sex slave of Kaelon's father, Morven. He had kept her as entertainment for a few years, before discovering that she was infertile and could not be used as breeding stock.
After that, she had been demoted to an ordinary servant. She admitted to Irina in private that this was an arrangement she could actually live with a lot better. “Well, I certainly understand your concern. However, you have to admit that our Lord has been unusually kind to you.”
“Sure, for a damn slave owner.”
“Be careful! If you're overheard talking like that--”
Irina smirked. “They’ll what? Kill me? Good.”
Miriam stared at her, her expression troubled. “I understand that you're unhappy over your captivity. But you really could be doing worse. Kaelon has been kind to all of us.”
“Kaelon keeps other thinking beings as slaves like a fucking monster, Miriam. This entire planet is inhabited by monsters, who have a savage culture. Don't talk about his kindness to me.
I don't believe it for a moment, because I haven't been stuck here long enough that I have had to rationalize this crap in order to save my sanity. And I don't plan to live long enough to see myself have to do that.”
“That's ridiculous. You need to stop talking about killing yourself and start talking sense. Once you’re dead, you're dead. Then there's no hope at all.” Miriam stepped inside to help her put her hair up with gold pins that just matched the gilding on her collar.
“What hope exactly do we have, Miriam? Hope that that nasty boys club that runs Earth Command might actually stage a rescue or negotiate a release of prisoners? Hope that the beast-men will suddenly grow souls and consciences and decide to let us go? I'm not going to criticize you for wanting to hold out hope for something, but you need to back off of me.”
She submitted to the assistance regardless, sighing as she saw that she actually looked quite good. It was dangerous to look too attractive around beast-men. Kaelon might not have touched her yet, for whatever reason, but she didn't trust his guests.
Miriam made a low noise of frustration in her throat. “You are far too young to be considering suicide.”
“It's my right to choose to die free rather than live as a slave. If dying is the only act of free will that I can make, then you bet your ass I'm going to make it.”
“I'm starting to think that I should bring this up with Kaelon. I don't want you ending up dead because you're adjusting badly. You need to be more optimistic. It does get better, over time.” Miriam finished putting the pins in place and stepped back to take a look at her.
“Yes, that will do nicely. Now, you should get downstairs and start attending to our Lord.”
Irina looked back at Miriam, and then shrugged. “Will I see you at the party?”
“Not likely. I will be directing the preparation and distribution of refreshments mostly, and running the seraglio.” Her smile went tight and thin as she saw Irina f
linch at the mention of the seraglio.
Kaelon's orgy room was two floors above. He had taken Irina there twice. It was a huge room, draped in silky fabrics, indirectly lit, with tinkling fountains and a heavily padded floor. Cushions and padded benches were scattered around it, to aid in achieving various sexual positions.
Both times, he had tried to seduce her, moving up behind her and nuzzling her hair, then brushing his hands over her shoulders. It wouldn't have been unpleasant, if she had been there of her own free will and he had been an ordinary man who was courting her.
But he was one of those disgusting beast-men, who kept her captive and fancied that he owned her, right down to the right to her body.
Each time, she has stiffened up and pulled away from him. Finally, frustrated but apparently refusing to use force on her, he had sent her back to her chamber.
“Well that's a disgusting job, and I don't envy you.”
“Yes, well, fortunately at my age very few of the guests will actually try to paw at me anymore.” Miriam stepped back, heading for the door.
“So what, is that when it gets better? When the beast-men decide that we’re too old to screw?”
Miriam's answering smile was so sad that Irina shivered with horror as she made her way downstairs.
The party sprawled across several floors of the palace, but Kaelon held court here, in his lounge. A band played various sizes and tones of wind instrument over near the windows on one side of the room, and figures in finery danced in the clear space at its center. As she descended the spiral staircase, Irina couldn't help but admire the sheer pageantry of it all.
Yes, they were monsters, but they were monsters with style. Shimmering gowns and flowing capes, polished armor and gleaming jewels, and faces painted up elaborately like masks.
Some of the party-goers had assumed their beast forms. Bright-winged tropical birds chattered away, a gigantic golden snake slithered amongst the dancers, and something like a silver antelope pranced through with an empty wine goblet held in its teeth.