Aliya stepped from the elevator and frowned. “Where are we?”
“Queens,” Matuse said. “Surely you’ve been here before.”
“Not in this area. Does Moreen live here?”
“Yes. But she’s at work right now, and we need to hurry before she leaves.” He took her hand and they started down the street.
She turned to look at Paran, who trailed behind them. “You seem morose today. What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure.”
“He’s convinced something bad has happened,” Matuse said. “But I haven’t sensed anything.”
“I know something bad has happened,” Paran muttered. “But the person involved refused to admit it.”
Matuse came to a dead stop, turning angry eyes on Paran. “Enough. It’s none of your business.”
“Fine. But just remember what I said.”
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Matuse replied. “We’re here to see Moreen, and nothing else.”
He started to walk at a brisk clip, trailing Aliya behind him. “Slow down.”
“No. We have things to do.” He finally stopped in front of a large building with a sign identifying it as the “The Parker Center for Teens.”
“What is this place?”
“Just what it says, a center for troubled teens.”
He pushed open the door and they went inside. A large man came toward them with a smile. “Mr. Paran?”
“No. I’m Matuse. Paran is behind us.” Paran shook the man’s hand, then turned to Aliya. “Joshua Parker, this is Aliya Baban. She’s a friend of ours.”
She shook his hand, wishing they had filled her in on what was happening and given her some clue about what to expect. She glanced around but didn’t see Moreen. If she worked here, she didn’t work in the front part of the building.
“So,” Joshua said. “Tell me exactly what you’re looking for.”
“We’re looking for workers for our lamp factory,” Paran explained. “We’d like to employ some of your teens, to give them a chance to earn some money, learn the value of hard work, and obtain a skill.”
“I’m impressed,” Joshua said. “And I’m grateful. We have problems finding potential employers for our kids. They don’t want to take a chance on kids who have already proven they’re less than trustworthy. Why are you willing to take the risk?”
“Because, we believe everyone deserves a second chance, and sometimes, a third,” Matuse said. “People can be more than what they were born to.”
Aliya absorbed his words. Now that she thought about it, they were very much alike. Both fighting influences from their parents that weren’t perfect—from her mother who centered on looks alone, to Matuse’s father who wanted his son to be evil.
When she touched his arm, he turned to her. Their gazes locked. She wanted to take this chance to tell him that she loved him, but somehow it didn’t seem like the right place, or the right time. He gave her a shy smile, then they fell into step behind Paran and Joshua, who was now taking them on a tour of the facility.
They’d gone through two rooms, and were about to enter a third when Matuse said, “over there,” to her. She turned to find Moreen staring at her, her dark eyes full of malice.
“Go to her.” His voice was soft. “I’ll wait here.”
“Come with me.”
“No. I’m sorry, but you have to do this one alone. I won’t leave the room, though. Know that I’m with you in spirit.”
She took a deep breath and started toward the other woman, who continued to stare at her.
“Hi.” The greeting sounded lame, even to her. “How are you?”
“You’re joking, right? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Uh... me and my friends, we’re taking a tour. They’re thinking of giving some of the kids jobs.”
“Oh, do-gooders, huh? And you’re with them? What, did you get a heart transplant? Or did you just grow a soul?”
“Moreen, I—”
“Oh, please, Aliya. Don’t even bother. Nothing you have to say could possibly be of interest to me.”
“I’m so sorry. If I hurt you, I…”
“Get away from me.”
“Really, I…” Aliya felt as if Moreen had punched her in the stomach. “I am sorry.”
“Yeah? Who gives a rat’s ass?”
“Do you work here?” She was grasping at straws now, trying to find something to talk about. If Moreen worked with troubled teens, then maybe she would want to discuss it, talk about why she did it.
“Work here? No, Aliya, I don’t. This is called community service. This is what happens when you break the law, get arrested, and try to stay out of prison. You get to spend the next ten years on probation, talking to snot-nosed kids who are just like once were, trying to scare them straight. ‘Don’t be like me. Don’t do drugs. Stay in school.’ Get the point?”
“Moreen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Why would you? After all, I wasn’t worth your time to spit on, was I? You branded me a slut, and everyone believed you.”
“I—I’m sor—”
“Go to hell.” She stormed off and all the breath left Aliya’s lungs. Matuse’s arms were around her quickly, pulling her close. Tears flooded her eyes, and she felt as if a crushing weight rested on her chest.
“It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not all right. I failed. There’s no way she’s going to forgive me.”
“You’re right, there’s not. But you gave her a heartfelt apology, and that’s all that matters. You did what you were supposed to do. It’s out of your hands now.”
“But what about her? She’s so angry, so full of hate. And it’s my fault.”
“This is where you must trust us, understand? And it’s not all your fault. She made her choices, and obviously, they weren’t always good ones. Paran will help her now.”
“What if he can’t?” The tears were flowing heavily down her cheeks. She felt as if she couldn’t catch her breath.
“Never underestimate Paran. It may not be the most pleasant of times for her, but he will use his skills, both good and bad, to help turn her around.”
“I want to go home.” She wiped tears from her face. “Please, take me home.”
He caressed her cheek. “We had plans for the cave. Don’t you want to go play?”
She shook her head. “No. I just want to go home.”
When Paran and Joshua came up, she turned her face away so they couldn’t see her tears. Paran and Matuse exchanged words she couldn’t hear. All she could hear was the poison in Moreen’s voice when she’d told her to go to hell.
Within seconds, she was at home, lying in her bed with Matuse spooned behind her, holding her close as she cried herself to sleep.
Chapter Fifteen
“You should knock off early.” Anya handed Aliya a folder. “We’re getting close to making the final plans, and I think we’ve just about hit all the high points for today. Go home. Take a bath. Rest for a bit.”
“Do you know something I don’t?”
“No.”
“You’re a bad liar, Anya.” Aliya stood and shrugged into her jacket. “But I am tired. Very tired. Tomorrow’s my last day with Matuse, and frankly, the idea scares me half to death.”
“It’ll work out. You’ll see.”
“Such optimism. Is it your pregnancy, or your new status as a,… you know.”
“Both. Now go.”
On the street, Aliya fought the crowds to get to the curb and try and hail a cab. As she put her arm up, the same sense of impending doom she’d had the day before came over her.
When she’d awaken last night, she’d expected Matuse to make love to her. Instead, he’d held her close and talked to her about how she felt, and told her that her experience with Moreen wasn’t a failure.
“As much as we’d like to, we can’t take responsibility for everyone and their actions,” he had said. “True, you hur
t her, but she’s the one who let herself be led down a dark path. You’ve done your part toward sending her back toward a good path. That’s all that matters.”
He’d kissed her then, his lips gentle against hers. Then he’d pulled her into his arms and they’d both slept. When she woke up this morning, he was gone.
Now, she scanned the faces in the crowd, wondering why the horrible, heavy feeling held her in its grasp. As she climbed into the cab, she shrugged it off as mere depression over the fact that tomorrow was her last day with Matuse. The man she now knew that she loved.
She couldn’t tell him, though. There was no way she was going to say the words and not hear them in return. Plus, he had to know how she felt. He could read her mind, invade her thoughts. He knew she loved him, and he’d not offered any sort of idea on what he was feeling.
At home she opened a bottle of wine, poured herself a glass, and then filled the tub with hot water and bubbles. Sliding into it, she reveled in the way the warmth wrapped itself around her and settled into her skin.
She’d just started to relax when a man cleared his throat. “You’re losing your bubbles.”
“Paran! Don’t you knock?”
“It would ruin my reputation. How lovely you look. If we wait a little longer, all the bubbles might disappear.”
“Get out!”
“But I’ve come to fetch you. Matuse is waiting.”
“Yeah, well you know what? He can come and get me himself. I’m not going—” She exclaimed loudly as her body lifted from the water, and then came down onto something hard, covered in straw.
She looked around, trying to take in her surroundings. She was in a barn, hay and straw scattered everywhere. The waning light fell through the slats of the building and through the one open window.
The place looked vaguely familiar, and then she remembered Matuse searching her mind for her fantasies.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “No.”
“Yes.” His voice was soft. “You want this.”
The door to the barn opened and she scrambled behind large bushels of hay, peering out to see Matuse, dressed in black leather, standing in the doorway. She looked down at her own clothing. No more than a small slip of a wrap dress, belted around her waist and torn at the shoulder.
“Aliya.” His voice was dark. “I know you’re in here. The people who own this land contacted me. They know the penalty for harboring a runaway slave.”
“No.” She repeated the word over and over, her hands shaking. How many times had she had this fantasy? Of being a runaway slave on a planet much like Earth? Of being found by her owner, punished and then shared with his friend.
She couldn’t handle this right now. Her mind reeled, searching for ways to get out of it, just as her body was reeling with pleasure at the thought. Her nipples were rock hard, and her pussy already flooded with need.
“Show yourself, and I’ll be lenient.”
“Matuse, please. I can’t—”
“Shush. Come out now, or your punishment will be much more severe.” The barn grew quiet, and then she jumped as he spoke again. “Come out now, Aliya. You don’t want to make things worse, do you?”
The silence took over again and Aliya stayed crouched in her hiding place. She heard no movement, no creaking boards or shuffle of shoes against the straw. All she knew was that one minute, he wasn’t there, and the next he was standing beside her, looking down.
“You’ve been a very bad girl. Shame on you.” His voice was gentle, and sent shivers up her spine. “Am I such a bad Master that you would run from me? Did I abuse you? Did I hurt you? Was it your pride that made your run, or your fear of belonging to someone?”
“I don’t belong to anyone.” The words had more meaning than she cared to realize.
“But you do. You belong to me. Bought and paid for.”
She shook her head violently, excitement tinged with fear traveling up her spine. He’d read her fantasy so perfectly. Would it live up to what she’d expected, or would her fantasy be ruined forever?
“Stand up.” His voice was demanding now, yet still soft.
“No.”
“There is no escape from me, you must know that by now. I said, stand up.”
“Matuse, I—”
“It’s Master Matuse to you. I’ve spent considerable monies hunting you down. And now, Paran is paying the couple who own this barn, so that we may use it for shelter tonight. I was going to wait until we returned to punish, but I think the punishment needs to come now. Don’t you?”
“No.”
Paran appeared next to them, a length of rope in his hands. “The barn is ours for the night, and the wife will bring us food at dusk. I thought you might need this.” He handed the rope to Matuse.
Matuse took it without breaking eye contact with Aliya. “I said, stand up.”
Aliya stared at him, then darted her eyes to Paran. Matuse followed her gaze and she took the opportunity to crawl in the other direction, working hard to get away from him. But he was quicker than she was. He grabbed her around the waist and drew her up, pushing her back so that she was sprawled across the huge roll of hay.
“Hold her tight while I tie her.”
She wasn’t sure if he used actual, substantial objects, or tethered her magically. All she knew was that the rope was around her ankles, which were then spread wide and secured before he tied her wrists together.
Heat rushed through her as he ran his hands down her body, toying with her breasts, moving down, and then moving back up.
“I know just the punishment for an ill-disciplined slave like yourself. Being brought to the brink of orgasm time and again, and not being allowed to climax. That is, after I whip that pretty little pussy.”
He made a rip in her top, tearing it down to expose her breasts. Then, he moved around her, his fingers never leaving her flesh. When he got to her legs, he stepped between them, grasped the garment and tore it straight down. She wore nothing underneath. She was naked now, totally bare for both of them to see.
“Look at her shiver,” Paran said. “Do you think it’s in delight or fear?”
“A bit of both,” Matuse replied, caressing her stomach as she wiggled under him. “Will you bring me the paddle from the saddlebags?”
“With pleasure.”
She watched Paran walk away, then turned her gaze to Matuse. “Please don’t whip me.”
“You brought this on yourself by running. Don’t blame me, blame yourself.” He said the exact same words she’d fantasized about for so long, wanting this rough play but afraid to ask any of her lovers for it. It would expose her too much to them.
When Paran passed Matuse the paddle, she shook her head. “Please.”
“Shush. Ask me again and I’ll increase the punishment. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” She knew he was studying her, watching her wiggle. He held the paddle up for her to see. It was a small wooden thing, barely two inches around.
“Make noise for me.” He slapped it against her mons.
The slap was just hard enough to sting. He repeated the motion and the sting spread, moving to her clit and vibrating through her body. After six strokes he stopped, and Paran began to massage her breasts, his hands demanding, but not too rough. He played with her nipples, exerting enough pressure to make her squirm before releasing them and starting over. When she cried out for release, Matuse went back to work on her pussy, slapping it gently, then waiting at least a minute before doing it again.
“Please. I can’t take much more. I’m sorry for running. Please. Let me come.”
“No.” Matuse parted her swollen slit, turned the paddle on its side and ran the edge through her wetness. He skimmed it through her folds several times before moving it up and sliding it across her clit.
Aliya bucked into it, trying to increase the contact, but he pulled it back. When her hips stopped moving, he started again, putting just enough pressure on her clit to send tendrils of pleasure
racing through her body.
Each time she came close to orgasm, he would pull back. Paran continued to massage her breasts, keeping her vividly aware of just how aroused she was. They did this several times, bringing her just to the brink, then pulling back. Aliya’s nerves jumped in frustration and her clit throbbed, almost painfully.
“Please.”
“Please what?” Matuse sounded vaguely bored. “Convince me you want me. Convince me you won’t run again.”
“I won’t. I’m yours. Only yours.” She closed her eyes as the words left her mouth, a part of her wishing it were true and not just a fantasy. Then, she squeezed her eyes tight. Who was she kidding? All of her wanted it to be true.
They worked her harder then, Paran still at her breasts and Matuse working the paddle over her clit, rubbing harder and harder. She fought against her bonds and just when she thought they would pull away again, they didn’t.
Matuse placed his fingers where the paddle had been and slipped his cock inside her, pushing himself in to the hilt. Aliya came, screaming out his name. Brilliant lights flashed before her eyes and she heard him cry out his release.
They’d never done anything like that before, not in the weeks that they’d been together. Their bodies shook, and just when Aliya thought it was over, it started again. Wave after wave of passion flowed over her until she thought she would surely die of it. As she screamed out in pleasure, colorful bolts of lightning appeared, sizzling the air around them. She closed her eyes, but the brilliant sparks of light went off behind her eyelids, just as if she were watching a fireworks show.
Above her, Matuse whispered her name. His weight was heavy and comforting. Her bonds were gone, and she clutched at him with her arms and legs.
“I love you,” he whispered in her ear. “Always remember that.”
She wrapped her hands in his hair and brought his mouth down to hers in a hard kiss. When she broke it, she gazed up at him. “I love you, too. So much so that it scares me. I’ve never—”
“Shush. It’s all right. It’s all right.” He held her close and then they stood together, with her still wrapped in his arms.
“Where’s Paran?”
Aliya Baban and the Cave of Pleasure Page 12