A Menage Made On Madison [The Federation 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
Page 1
The Federation 1
A Menage Made on Madison
For the last sixty years, Parker and Knox Baxx have been in love. Regardless of their cross-mating, she an Earthling and he a Shuzon, they’ve managed to create a successful partnership. In both the bedroom, and the boardroom.
Rich beyond their wildest dreams from the hotel resort they’ve constructed from scratch on the outskirts of Federation territory, there’s only one problem. Shuzons are part of a twin pair, and they share their mates. Without Rafer, Knox’s brother, Parker’s Earthling sensibilities are going haywire. Her body is experiencing a complete system shutdown, and she has only the one option open to her—to bind herself to Rafer.
The trouble is, he’s a high-ranking officer in the Fleet, the Federation’s armed wing, which ransacked and destroyed Earth. Secondly, he has enemies of his own. Thirdly, she doesn’t trust him.
Loving and being loved by Knox is no longer enough. Can Parker learn to trust Rafer with her heart, body, and wellbeing before it’s too late?
Genre: Futuristic, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Science Fiction
Length: 85,785 words
A MENAGE MADE ON
MADISON
The Federation 1
Serena Akeroyd
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
A MENAGE MADE ON MADISON
Copyright © 2015 by Serena Akeroyd
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-024-4
First E-book Publication: March 2015
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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DEDICATION
To menages. And the folk who live in them. You lucky sods, you! ;)
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
About the Author
A MENAGE MADE ON
MADISON
The Federation 1
SERENA AKEROYD
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
As a Sliuguzerd sank back Beocrish whisky like it was going out of fashion, Parker Baxx watched on in disgust as the whisky swam down the translucent creature’s innards.
If Sliuguzerds weren’t revolting enough, with their tendency to walk about nude, displaying every inch of both inside and out, their copious amounts of flabby flesh just added to the lovely image. Combine it with a stench Parker could only liken to a baby wipe post-wipe, Sliuguzerds were a pain in her proverbial rear.
Sure, they drank Beocrish whisky and Peakagranian vodka by the bottle, which made them great clients. However, they were so gross, and stank so badly, other clientele tended to steer clear of them. Hence the lull in her bar. At the peak drinking heura.
With a sigh, and trying not to inhale through her nose, Parker leaned back against the work counter, and surveyed the quiet room. The football-stadium-sized bar was usually three-quarters full at any time of the deya or notte. Madison Hotel welcomed all of the Federation’s allies, which meant they had to service over a thousand different creatures, all of them with different life cycles.
Because of the baby poop-stinking Sliuguzerd, the bar was a quarter full, and considering Parker hated bar duty, she resented the pain in the ass’s presence. If she had to be here, she liked to be rushed off her feet. Time passed quickly that way. Otherwise, she was left to just look around, and wait for the mins to drag on by.
She guessed she’d picked up that trait from her father. “The devil makes work for idle hands,” he always used to say, like as not after he’d loaded an hour’s worth of chores onto her shoulders. She grinned at the memory, relieved that after all this time, she could think of him and her mom with fondness. Rather than soul-searing agony.
Tapping her fingers against the counter, she tried not to glare at the Sliuguzerd out of the corner of her eye, and instead, switched on the comm unit attached to her wrist. Spying a commqué—the Federation version of a text message—from Knox, her mate, she grinned.
Hope you’re behaving yourself.
Never, she answered.
It only took him a second to reply. He was always wired up to his units, busy deya and notte with hotel affairs, and yet he always had time for her. She wasn’t sure how he man
aged it, but he never failed her.
Bullshit. One of the first American words she’d ever taught him. When a Sliuguzerd’s in the bar, it’s dead. That means you’re bored. What are you up to?
She snorted. He knew her so well. At the moment, I am behaving. Promise. The last time she’d had to tend the bar with a Sliuguzerd in residence, she’d rearranged most of the liquor shelves and broken a bottle of five-thousand-dollar Beocrish whisky.
I’m disappointed. I was looking for an excuse to come and put you in line.
You don’t need an excuse. Hell, wasn’t that just the truth. Even if her body was working against her, and had been for the last few years, she never passed up an opportunity to be with him. It was the way of their bond, and the most special aspect of her life.
You say the sweetest things.
Smartass, she retorted, hearing his sarcasm even though the commqué was only a written missive.
I do try my best.
I know you do. And you succeed. What are you doing while I’m bored shitless down here?
I told you you don’t have to pull the bar shift anymore, Parker. This isn’t fifty-odd years ago. You don’t have to do anything you don’t have to.
You can’t say that, Knox. I don’t want to wax my pussy but I do it.
Minx. She could hear the growl—her ears knew that sound like they knew the sound of her name.
Maybe. Maybe not. There was a permanent hair removal treatment available, but it involved acid. No way in fuck was anything like that going near her bits. Anyway, how come you know there’s a Sliuguzerd down here? Are you having me watched? Again?!
A man has to look after his most precious possession.
I should be pissed at the ‘possession’ part, oh, wait, I am.
Nah, you got over being my slave ninety years ago.
Good job. Or you’d be getting a knee in the balls for that comment.
I knew those hours with the shrink would pay off eventually.
Rolling her eyes, she finished their conversation with, Piss off. Some of us have real work to do.
I have my orders…I’d be churlish to refuse. See you later, babe. Be good.
I don’t know any other way, she lied, and switched off the comm unit attached to her wrist.
Technically, he was right. She didn’t have to work here. She and Knox owned the entire hotel. With over eight-thousand rooms, sixty dining halls, and thirty atriums, capable of catering up to twenty-thousand people at a time, it was safe to say they’d made it. Unfortunately, she also knew that keeping a presence on the hotel floor was imperative to quality control.
Nothing kept her two-thousand-strong, front-of-house staff on their toes like the knowledge she had a shift on reception, at the bar, or on concierge.
That she hated it was a given. Nevertheless, hating something didn’t mean it could be ignored—something else her dad had taught her. Just like moments before, Knox kept on saying she could give it a rest, that she didn’t have to play an active role in the business anymore. But it was hard to let go.
They had one hundred managers overseeing every aspect of the hotel, and their job was to make sure Madison Planet retained its seven stars. She wasn’t needed. Not really, but, the control freak in her couldn’t relinquish her baby over to people who cared, but not as much as she did.
She had a love-hate relationship with the hotel. She’d found success here, and wealth beyond the imaginings of any Arkansas-born Earthling, but that didn’t ease the ache she had deep inside. An ache every human shared. At least, she reckoned so. She hadn’t seen another Earthling since the slave market, after the Federation had come a-calling at Earth’s door.
When the Federation had made it known to Earth’s governments that it intended to make the planet a part of its union—whether it liked it or not—Earth, with its miniscule technological capabilities, had only been selected thanks to its corporeal make-up. Not that the governments had known that.
Turned out that the Earth’s core was a component in the super-fuel used by Federation spaceships, and Earthlings had slowly been evacuated to other planets, to sink or swim—mostly sink—so the Federation could use the planet’s core for space gas.
While they’d destroyed every other part of the planet to mine it, they’d adopted some of its traditions. American dollars had become the intergalactic currency in the Federation, water—H2O and not the cheap imitation stuff available across the galaxy—became a delicacy across the universe, and the gold and diamonds the miners had discovered as they’d raped the planet of its heart were some of the priciest items in the Union.
Considering most Earthlings, whose only advantage were their appealing looks, became sex slaves to the Federation’s people, Parker had done more than well for herself.
She wasn’t some Kracaxian’s whore, slurping down purple cum from a cock that looked like a corn on the cob on a good deya. She wasn’t popping out babies for the Bribunna, who used the mother’s milk for their own pleasure—baby milk was their version of heroin. No, Parker was an independent businesswoman. With the means to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.
On top of that, she loved and was loved by an incredible Shuzon—a male from a race of people with a similar make-up to humans, only they had two cocks or two pussies, their skin had a tinge of blue rather than pink like Earthlings, and their blood was a rather disturbing black.
The reason for Parker’s discontent was another Shuzon trait. It was a nagging ache that had spanned decades, causing her more or less pain at any given moment.
Because their females had two vaginas and two wombs, and the males had two penises, children were born in pairs. Not altogether unusual, twins were common on Earth, after all. However, Shuzon twinlings were bound together from birth through to death. They shared partners, lives, and families, with the average household consisting of two breeding females and two breeding males, and any children they might have.
Knox, when he’d fallen in love with Parker, had broken the strictures of Shuzon society. Not only by mating outside of the race, but by not considering his twin’s opinion.
Knox’s twin, Rafer, was not a part of their relationship. Even though they both wanted him to be. Without Rafer, Knox and Parker couldn’t formalize their union, nor could they have a family. While Parker wasn’t too disturbed by the latter, she wanted to belong to Knox in the Shuzon way, just as she wanted to belong to Rafer.
It was one thing to have him reject her, but the major problem was no one knew where Rafer was. And that was why she wasn’t happy at the moment. She and Knox had made their bed, were happily lying in it, but couldn’t sleep because Rafer wasn’t there.
Because of his absence, Parker’s apathy was growing at a disturbing level. Bar duty had been a pain before, but now, it was like asking her to climb Everest…from Madison. A planet six hundred billion light-annals away from Earth. And that was only one part of her deya, only one segment. Every other part required just as much effort, just as much energy.
Knox said her discontent was normal, but that didn’t stop it from freaking her out. According to him, every time they had sex, he exposed her to his DNA, and his DNA clamored to be “merged” with his twin’s. Every time it wasn’t, Parker went through a kind of withdrawal, and she grieved. Her body actually mourned Rafer.
After sixty annals with Knox, and only one notte with Rafer to keep her going, Parker’s body was in serious cold turkey. It had become so bad that whenever she and Knox did make love, she passed out. And her orgasms were enough to keep her housebound for a full deya.
Knox was so concerned he’d stopped touching her, and while Parker hated that her body was constantly grieving Rafer, going without Knox made it all the harder.
She was horny, dammit! And she was sick of being horny. Damn her Earthling genes.
As the Federation had discovered, humans evolved at different rates to most of its allies. This made them perfect slaves for the different species allied to the Union. So Parker,
with her susceptible make up, had come to crave Knox’s Shuzon seed like a chocoholic needed a daily double dose of mocha. And this was the norm for Shuzons. Their females and males bound themselves to each other through the sharing of bodily fluids. This created a bond so intrinsic to the Shuzon that cheating didn’t happen. Ever. Touching another Shuzon’s bodily fluid, one not of their mate, could cause an allergic reaction so strong as to put them in a health clinic.
Now, whenever Knox touched her, not sexually, but affectionately, fire ants crawled down her arms and legs. Need rattled her, the urges so strong, for seconds they rendered her insensate. Her body, and Knox’s, were literally driving her crazy.
Something had to give, she just didn’t know what. Because now, after so long with Knox, living without him was not possible. Not just because she loved him, but because her body would probably go into arrest or something if they were no longer together.
It was a Catch-22 situation, and to be frank, it was wearing her down, so that everything she loved doing became a drag, and everything she hated doing was like asking her to make out with a Sliuguzerd—revolting on so many levels.
When the Sliuguzerd in her sights slammed his whisky glass down and demanded, “Hadean Lixir,” Parker was dragged from her thoughts with a bang.
She clucked her tongue in disgust at the order. Hadean Lixir was the strongest liquor in the known galaxy. Not even the three digestive systems housed within the Sliuguzerd’s body could handle it. Which meant five or six of her poor members of staff would have to help the disgusting son of a bitch up to his hotel suite.
“I’ll need your room number and key, Sir,” she told him, using the ULT, Universal Lexicon Translator, to replicate the grunts and clicks that made up the Sliuguzerd’s tongue.