She refused to think about the future.
James called a halt around dinner. Lydia was discouraged.
"Now, now, that's not how a scientist thinks," he playfully chided her. "A scientist knows that he'll look for something over and over and over and not find it – until he suddenly does. Just because we didn't find anything today doesn't mean it's not there."
"If you say so, sir."
He was suddenly in front of her, leaning over to heave her off her feet and drape her over his shoulder. She screeched in surprise and laughter.
"Now, slaves who doubt their masters must be punished," he declared with a seriousness she knew was an act, though the swat that he delivered to her exposed backside stung.
"Ow!" She struggled, knowing and loving that she couldn't escape.
"Did that hurt? Let me soothe it." He thrust his hand between her legs and his finger sought her clit. She moaned and threw up her head, her struggles stilled with the delicious sensation. Then he withdrew and applied another smart spank to the crease between her thigh and ass.
"Ow! Ow! That hurts, Master!" She wasn't playing now.
He ignored her as he worried her clit again. She squirmed and writhed and moaned.
"Now, will you ever doubt your master again? Let me remind you, after the fondle comes another spank."
"No, Master, no, I promise, I'll never doubt you again!" She was laughing and moaning at the same time.
"Good girl." He kept stroking her clit as he walked towards the lift. "If you can have an orgasm before the lift gets to the top, be my guest. If you can't, well, too bad!"
She was so lost in the sensations that she almost didn't register the fact that they had entered the lift and it was in motion. Just as the door opened to the outside, a wave of pleasure rose up and crashed over her. A short, sharp, moan escaped the confines of the lift to ripple out over the pavement in front of the hotel and stop more than one person in his tracks.
James carried her out of the lift, then set her down against a wall, and it was only his hands around her waist that kept her from sinking to the ground. She looked up at his twinkling eyes and blushed furiously.
"What do you say?"
"Um, thank you, James?" she grinned back. He held up his wet fingers and without being asked she leaned forward and sucked them into her mouth, cleaning every drop of the sweet stickiness from his skin.
He groaned. "Good girl."
A Friend and Ally
Her hand tucked in his elbow, they made their way through the lobby out onto the patio that overlooked the cliffs. It was unexpectedly crowded and they looked in vain for a table. To her surprise, a hand went up from a man seated with a woman at a table with two empty chairs. James seemed taken aback as well, but he steered them in their direction.
"You are welcome to share our table with us, if you'd like. I'm Dobas Menzie, and this is my wife Mareen." The two men shook hands. Lydia looked at Mareen; something was familiar about the dark-haired woman with the usual black collar around her throat, though how Lydia would know an off-world woman she had no idea.
James pulled out a chair for Lydia and she froze. He expected her to sit next to him – to them – but...
"Lydia, are you okay?" he whispered. "You just went white."
"It's not my place to sit at the table. If I was out with my master, I'd be kneeling next to him, not sitting. My place is on the floor. I'm not sure what I should do." She was getting dizzy with panic. She'd known her place since she was young, and it was not in the chair, especially not in public. But James seemed to expect her to act like a free woman – like Mareen perhaps – and she couldn't make the leap.
The sound of a clearing throat behind them made James swivel around. An up-tight, officious-looking young man stood behind them.
"I'm afraid that the slave is correct, sir. She is not permitted to sit in a chair here, nor anywhere in the hotel."
James looked as though he was going to blow up, but she saw him pull his anger under control. "In that case, we'll be eating in my room."
"Sir, I'm afraid we've had to suspend room service for the evening. One of the other hotels' kitchens had a water leak, and all their guests are dining here tonight. All our staff is needed in the restaurants."
Lydia didn't care that she'd be the only person kneeling. Here was a chance to talk to – or at least listen to – a free woman, and she was dying of curiosity.
"Sir," she whispered to James with urgency, "please. I really don't want to leave. "
The young man raised his eyebrow at the boldness of her statement. Lydia ignored him. James did not.
"Would you mind giving us some privacy for a moment?" He glared at the employee, who glared back but retreated. He turned his attention to her.
"There's nothing I love more than having a woman kneel at my feet while we're eating, but I want to make sure you're not uncomfortable being the only one down there."
Out of the corner of her eye, Lydia saw Mareen lean over to talk to her husband.
She had to make him see. "Sir, I've been kneeling all my life. I'm more comfortable down there than I would be if I was sitting next to you like a free woman."
"James?" It was Mareen. "James, if you will consider staying, Lydia won't be by herself on the floor. Dobas has given permission for me to join her. I'd like to talk to her, and I think we have something in common."
After a moment, he nodded, and Lydia relaxed. "But you are not kneeling on the stone, and that is final." He motioned to the man, who looked slightly miffed at being ordered about.
Kind of like a slave? she dared to think.
"Two thick cushions." James glared at the man when he opened his mouth to object, and Lydia almost laughed. The man nodded his head sharply and disappeared.
They stood in uncomfortable silence until a waitress with two cushions appeared. She handed them out silently. Mareen stood up and Dobas pulled her chair away. She took a cushion and moved next to Lydia. James handed the other one to Lydia, and she knelt down in one fluid move next to his chair. Dobas helped Mareen down and the two women stared at each other for a moment. Mareen broke the silence.
"I'm Mareen." She reached over to Lydia with a hand, and Lydia realized she wanted to shake, like men did, so she tentatively placed her hand in Mareen's and was surprised by the strong grip.
"I'm Lydia."
She looked up at James to make sure he didn't need anything. He looked down with raised eyebrows, asking silently if she was okay, and she nodded back. She looked around the patio long enough to note that they were the objects of intense interest, especially among all the seated women, but she didn't care. Staring she could handle. Sitting where she wasn't supposed to, in public, she couldn't.
"So how do you eat down here like this?" Mareen's abrupt question pulled Lydia back to the present.
She smiled at the woman. "Well, Master decides what's ordered, and it's served to him along with an extra plate. He'll put whatever I should eat on the plate and hand it down, and we can set it there." She pointed to a smaller circle of glass directly under the tabletop but only a meter off the floor, with a matching hole for the umbrella to run through just like the table above.
"I – I thought that was a footrest?"
Lydia nodded. "It is."
"Oh."
"So," Lydia had held her curiosity in check long enough, "what do we have in common?"
Mareen didn't reply, but shifted to her side away from Lydia enough to be able to pull her skirt up. Multiple purple stripes crisscrossed over each other from her knees all the way up under the hem of the dress. Lydia's eyes widened and she looked up at Mareen.
"Are you the woman who–"
"Threw the drink in the minister's face. Yes." The rueful smile on her face spoke of her regret. "I can say that was absolutely the most horrible day of my entire life."
"But, you're still here, on Midros. I would have thought you'd leave as fast as you could."
She closed her eyes and shook
her head. "My husband won't let me. Believe me, that's what my first impulse was. It's a long story, but the short version is, that this trip and what I'm doing here is very important to the government I work for. Everyone was concerned that I wasn't the best choice for the trip, knowing me and my short temper and my easily-sparked indignation." She rolled her eyes. "I insisted I'd be fine. Dobas and I talked for weeks about what it would be like, what I could and couldn't do, what to expect, what the punishments for breaking the law were. As soon as I got here, everything felt so wrong, so different, that I began overreacting. The smallest rule made me bristle. Dobas tried to talk to me, to reassure me. He promised nothing would happen to me as long as I trusted him. And I threw it all out the window in a heartbeat. I regretted it the moment the words came out of my mouth – and the wine left my glass."
Lydia listened with an open mouth. Never in her entire life could she imagine throwing something in the face of a man. Well, perhaps she had imagined it, but she never would do it, especially for something as insignificant as a demand to fondle her breasts. Lydia had been fondled many times, almost always without anyone asking her master first. Women here had never had the right to privacy of their bodies.
"That day is a blur. I was terrified long before it started, and I was so panicked I fought them all the way out the door and even after I was tied up." Her voice dropped low. "The first blow was even worse than I had imagined and I kind of lost my mind. I don't really remember much after that."
Lydia reached out and took Mareen's hand. "I understand that terror."
"How did you get through it, then?"
Lydia considered. "It's not the first time I've been punished. Never that bad, but you learn after a while how to manage the fear and accept it enough to get through it. I admit I didn't sleep well the night before and almost threw up while I was waiting. But I knew I'd come out the other side. You didn't have that perspective."
Mareen nodded. "Afterwards, Dobas had absolutely no sympathy for me. I was angry – so angry – and wanted to leave, and he put his foot down and said this trip was too important, I had to live with the consequences, and he was tired of my attitude." She paused and stared at the floor, her cheeks going slightly red. "He informed me that for the rest of the trip I was going to submit to him and obey almost every rule that the women here do, even in private, and if I disobeyed, he'd spank me. I haven't been permitted to sit in a chair for the last three days except out here in the restaurant, and I don't get to make any choices, and I don't get to take this collar off even in private." She looked up at Lydia as though she was embarrassed to admit it.
Lydia squeezed her hand and nodded, encouraging her to go on.
Mareen resumed her stare at the floor. "He's been absolutely unwavering, and I'm surprised by... well... it feels good to let go." The last words came out in a rush.
The server arrived with plates of food. James leaned over asked her what she wanted and she told him it didn't matter. It really didn't, because she'd learned to eat anything she was given. Dobas didn't ask Mareen; he filled a plate and handed it down to her. She looked at it and Lydia could see an internal struggle going on before she lifted her head and thanked him for the food. They placed their plates on the footrest. Mareen stared at it for a minute before picking up a fork and spearing one vegetable. She looked over at Lydia.
"I hate vegetables."
"And you eat them, because he told you to." Lydia observed. "I understand. I might eat everything in front of me, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it. I just know I don't get anything else."
They ate in silence as the two masters discussed jobs, compared notes on the economies of the different planets, and listed who was fighting whom and which wars were over. From time to time James would brush his hand on her shoulder, or stroke her hair as he talked. She saw Dobas do the same for Mareen, and when she handed her empty plate up to him he called her his good girl. She beamed and it was obvious they loved each other very much. Lydia had to turn away for a moment and think about something else.
Near the end of the meal, Mareen asked Lydia the question she dreaded. "What were you punished for?"
The query hung in the air. Lydia tried to open her mouth to explain, but the words wouldn't come out. She knew this woman who could read anything she wanted to, and go to a university, and who had a job where she got paid and kept the money for herself, would not understand, and would be horrified, and Lydia didn't want to be pitied.
Mareen squeezed her hand. "Never mind. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
Lydia blinked away the sudden tears. "It's a long story, and I don't really feel like talking about it. I'm sorry, because you told me everything about yourself."
Mareen made a dismissive wave. "I do that all the time. I don't expect everyone wants to tell me as much as I volunteer to tell them."
"I'm really glad we got to meet. You're the first off-world woman I've ever talked to."
"Really? I'm sorry we didn't meet before now. We're leaving tomorrow."
Dobas pushed his chair back and stood up.
On impulse Lydia leaned over and enveloped Mareen in a hug. She let go and leaned back, still holding the other woman's arms. "There are some things about submitting to the right man that can make you very happy. Don't throw it away as soon as you get home."
"It looks like your master is a very kind one."
Lydia looked down at the floor.
"I'm sorry. What did I say?"
She forced a smile on her face. "Nothing. I hope you have a safe trip. If you ever come back, I would love to see you again. My master's name is Mitchil Duruma. You can send a message to him and ask if he would permit us to meet."
"I thought his name is James?"
"James isn't my master. Not my real master. Just a short-term one, you could say."
Before Mareen could reply, Dobas held out his hand to help her off the cushion.
Lydia looked up. "Thanks for keeping me company."
"You're welcome. Goodbye." Arm in arm, the couple made their way across the crowded patio and disappeared into the hotel.
Games
Back in their room, Lydia was silent. James had a suspicion why. Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to let her talk to Mareen. Maybe she'd be happier if she was protected from reality. Fuck. He was starting to think like Raym. He took off his shirt and threw it at the wall.
"Master?"
"I'm okay. Just frustrated about... about a lot of things." He was startled when her soft warm hands touched his back. Once more, she seemed to know exactly where to rub to make the tension release. He let her continue for a few minutes, his muscles losing their perpetual rigidity, before spinning around and capturing her head in his hands. He stared into her startled eyes, seeing the specks of green among the brown for the first time. She had little worry lines spreading out from the corners. She was too young to have worry lines, and with his thumb he smoothed them over and over until he saw her face relax. She stared back at him, and he could hear her unsteady breathing as it caught in her throat. His fingers felt the pulsing heartbeat in her neck – faster, he suspected, than normal. He leaned closer, feeling her warm breath as he closed the distance between them. Her lips, trembling at the first touch of his, stilled as he drew her tighter. Her eyes closed and she sighed the smallest of sighs as though she'd been waiting forever for this moment. Her tongue boldly touched his and he felt a current race through his body. He deepened the kiss, pulling her into his arms, capturing her completely. He felt her knees buckle and he caught her as she fell, but it was too late. The kiss had been broken. He swung her into his arms where she nestled, her head tucked down in his chest.
"Whoa. You okay?"
"Yes, sir. It just got a little intense and I kind of got dizzy." She chuckled. "Sorry. It was really, really, nice, though."
"Mmm. Yes, it was." He sat on the side of the bed, still holding her in his arms. "If you're recovered, though, I'd like to do something else."
"Sir?" She l
ooked up at him, her eyes sparkling. Did her eyes always sparkle like that? It was probably the lighting.
"What I have in mind is intense. Are you interested?"
Her eyes widened before she nodded rapidly. Once more, her desires were written across her features.
He placed her feet on the floor. "Strip, and stand at the end of the bed, facing out."
She scrambled to obey, her pussy already pulsing before she even knew what he'd planned. Her dress was off in a flash and over the back of the couch. Since she wore nothing underneath, it took only a moment before she had placed herself at the end of the bed. She watched as he picked up the bag from the leather shop and pulled out the lovely red and black cuffs and approached her.
"Sir!" she protested. "Those aren't for me! They're meant for someone special."
He paused and looked at her, cocking an eyebrow. She squirmed under the intensity of his gaze.
"Are you arguing with your master?"
"No, sir," she whispered. "But I'm not–"
"You're still arguing. I can gag you if I must, but I was really hoping to hear your pretty moans and cries tonight. I believe these are mine and I can do anything I want with them."
Her eyes were now fastened firmly on the ground. Of course he was right, and it horrified her that she was protesting. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."
She felt his gaze burn into her before he spoke again. "Hold out your wrists."
She extended her arms. He wrapped one of the lovely soft cuffs around her right wrist, buckling it tight enough that there was just a little give but not too much. He placed the small lock in the buckle and a tremor passed through her at the sound of the hasp clicking. She heard him chuckle. He repeated the movements on her left wrist and she felt the perfect symmetry of having both wrists firmly encircled. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, the smell of new leather combining with his spicy scent as he knelt in front of her to affix the third and fourth cuffs to her ankles. These cuffs were the nicest she'd ever worn. Her master didn't use cuffs very much, and when he did he had several utilitarian black pairs. He preferred for his slaves to keep still without being restrained. She appreciated the discipline it took to do that, but sometimes she longed to be able to let go and struggle – without the hope of getting away, of course.
Memories of Surrender (Midrosian Chronicles Book 1) Page 10