Instead, Daagiis drew back slowly until only the tip of his cock remained inside her. Then he just as slowly pressed back in until fully embedded once more. He kept slipping through her folds in that same unhurried pace, fucking her with slow care.
Hell, it wasn’t even like he fucked her. It was almost as if Daagiis was making love.
More confusing still, Vendeen gently rubbed the back of Raven’s neck and shoulders and back, treating her to a massage as she lay draped over his desk. The two men were being … nice. Like they had been in the shower when she’d come apart.
Somehow, that messed with Raven’s head more than being under their power. More than taking cocks up her poor ass. She was a prisoner and a servant. Hell, she was little more than a slave. Why were they being kind?
She couldn’t figure it out. They were keeping her mentally off-balance. Perhaps that was the whole point. Maybe the kindness was to lull her, to set her up for more cruelty. Yet it was impossible to not sink into the comfort of Vendeen’s knowledgeable hands, nor of Daagiis’ careful use.
Raven floated in a haze of contented arousal. The friction of the face-changer’s cock sliding in and out of her pussy sent her on a slow, sweet climb towards fulfillment. She fairly purred with gentle bliss.
Daagiis reached beneath her to fondle her clit. Things inside coiled tight at the contact, and heat blazed through her guts. She gasped.
“That’s it. You’re going to come for me too,” he murmured. His fingers stroked the engorged nubbin, making Raven’s stomach twist. She warbled a high, beseeching sound. He kept encouraging her as he brought her higher and higher. “Good girl. Show me now. Let go and come.”
As if her body was completely under his control, Raven’s pussy convulsed. Bright starlight seemed to burst from where his fingers played, suffusing her entire body in glorious nirvana. Pulses raced to and fro along her spine, leaving her gasping for air.
Smaller quakes kept coming, fueled by Daagiis’ continued caresses on her most sensitive flesh. “Nice, Raven. Very nice. Your body can’t help but respond to ours.”
Vendeen’s voice joined in as he continued to rub his big hands up and down her back. “Whether harsh or gentle, our touch excites you. You crave us with all your being.”
The words were almost hypnotic, making Raven wonder if they were trying to brainwash her. She didn’t have time to pursue the thought, however. Daagiis’ stimulation of her clit became demanding once more, driving all sense from her brain.
“Come for me again, my darling. Come right now.”
Again her world shattered as orgasm blew her apart. Raven’s senses were awash in waves of euphoria. Her cries echoed off the walls.
The heaviest swells were only just receding when the command came once more, this time from Vendeen. “Again, my servant. Once more.”
She couldn’t resist. They wished her to climax, and Raven felt as if her sex was turning inside out to obey them. She had no control, no ability to make her body not concede to their demands. It was almost torture, this continuous surrender to orgasm for her masters’ pleasure.
Daagiis’ strained voice seemed to come from far away. “May I?” he groaned.
“Yes. You may come.”
The face-changer groaned. His cock pulsed within Raven, spilling heat deep inside her. She panted, glad she wasn’t being ordered to climax again. The last time had been so exquisite it almost hurt.
Daagiis pulled free after a few moments with a satisfied sigh. “That was good.”
“Did you enjoy it, Raven?” Vendeen asked.
There was no point in denying it, not when she’d come for them multiple times. Raven couldn’t even make her tone sound grudging. “Yes, I enjoyed it.”
“Then you may thank us, my servant.”
“Thank you.” The words popped out before she could censor them.
Worry wormed into her gut, especially at the growing sense of actually belonging to Vendeen and Daagiis. Raven tried to fight that feeling, but it stubbornly persisted. Damn it, she couldn’t even find hate for her captors, though it should have been easy to feel.
Chapter 10
Two hours after being bent over a desk, Raven wound her way through the space station’s corridors, following Daagiis and Vendeen with her eyes on everyone they passed. It only took a few minutes to reach the bay where hundreds of huge ships capable of interstellar flight were docked. They were on their way to board one that would take them to the edge of Collective space.
Raven blinked. Most of her attention riveted on watching out for attacks on Vendeen thanks to her programming. That didn’t keep the room from rocking just a bit beneath her feet.
She gasped to the men, “Wait. Wait.”
Daagiis and Vendeen turned to her, their expressions alert. “Raven?” Daagiis asked.
She stared around at the triangular-shaped, black-as-night ships. Crews of dozens of bronze men and women like Vendeen bustled about one that sat nearest, stowing cargo and going over the craft like a flight crew might check over an airplane getting ready for takeoff. At the back of the cavernous bay was an opening to space itself. Raven had never seen so many stars, their far-off lights dazzling against the black velvet void of the universe.
The men were staring at her with concern. She stammered, “Oh my God. Just – just give me a second.”
Raven locked her wobbly knees. I will not faint. I will not faint, she told herself over and over. It was damned hard not to, however, not when the absolute truth of her situation was staring her in the eye.
She really was on a space station in another dimension. She’d thought she’d accepted that before, but apparently her brain had decided otherwise. Now it had no choice but to acknowledge the truth.
Raven Virtue was nowhere near home. Her life as she knew it was over.
A hand gripped her arm. Raven turned her shocked gaze from the vast oblivion of space to look into Vendeen’s face. Daagiis was there too, his brows low over his golden eyes in obvious worry.
Her voice was a dry croak. “Sorry. It just hit me again that I’m really not in Kansas anymore. Or Arizona.”
Their expressions cleared. Daagiis offered her a crooked grin. “If you were, you’d be dead.”
“I know. But it’s just so—”
Raven couldn’t continue. All she could do was wave her hand towards the bay’s opening.
Vendeen studied her for several seconds. Finally he said in a low voice, “You will have the opportunity to go back.”
Raven blinked. She felt her eyes widen until the muscles around them ached. She stared into her captor’s primitively handsome bronze face. “I will?”
His face impassive, he said, “We’ll get to that soon enough. For now, we need to board the ship. Are you all right?”
“Sure.” She took a deep breath and straightened. Vendeen’s touch seemed to feed her strength.
She might be able to go home? After all this business of being made Vendeen’s protector? After all he and Daagiis had done to her in order to make her compliant to their every whim?
Vendeen was saying he was considering setting her free. She should be excited. She could pick up her life again, go back to her home and her friends. Her world.
So why did her stomach feel so achy, like someone had just punched her?
Raven shook off the strange disquiet. They had work to do, and she was holding up the process. “I’m good.”
Daagiis snapped a nod. “Then let’s go.”
His narrowed gaze went to Vendeen’s hand on her arm. It lasted only an instant. He turned away, leading them towards the ship being tended to by the crew. As Raven dropped back once more to protect the judge’s back, she wondered that maybe the face-changer might be jealous.
That made no sense. How could Daagiis be jealous that Vendeen would touch her when he’d brought her here to serve and protect the other man? She was obviously misreading the look. Raven shook her head at herself for being so damned paranoid.
She h
ad more important things to worry about. Watching everyone around them to assure herself of Vendeen’s safety and taking in the ship she was hurrying to board, Raven made herself stay steady.
They boarded the ship. Inside the tight confines, Raven had the impression she had boarded a battleship or aircraft carrier. The walls were all plain metallic with call stations and instrumentation dotting their surfaces. There were hatches that led into rooms crowded with machinery she couldn’t even guess at the function of. Crewmembers in tan and white uniforms rushed all over the place, though they all stood back at Vendeen’s passage before resuming their fast walks to whatever destinations they were bound for. Orders were barked and acknowledged in hurried bursts.
Raven was glad people stood aside to let their little group pass. She would have been hard pressed to keep close to Vendeen otherwise. She eyed every person with careful suspicion. Few people wanted to meet her eyes after a second or two. It occurred to her that her expression was set with cold, calculating threat. Not only that, but her posture was both protective over Vendeen and tensed as if ready to spring at the first sign of trouble.
Obviously, she was obeying the programming that had been placed in the interface with her brain. Raven thought it should bother her, but knowing exactly how to protect Vendeen on an instinctual level was a relief. If trouble came, she’d react immediately and decisively. No mistakes would be committed like the one that should have killed her back on Earth.
As they went along, the more utilitarian aspect of the ship was left behind. The corridor had less instrumentation, and the rooms they passed became offices and conference areas. The studded metal flooring under Raven’s thick soles became softer stuff with give. Now many of the doors on either side were closed, and wall hangings offered artwork to gaze upon.
“Sleeping accommodations,” Vendeen confirmed, as if knowing the question in her head. “They don’t usually have guests of my standing on board, but we’ll be comfortable nonetheless.”
“Here are our assigned quarters,” Daagiis said, stopping before one door that stood open. He led the way into the space.
Vendeen followed with Raven on his heels. The room was set up much like Vendeen’s home on the space station, with the bedroom area boasting a huge bed front and center, dining and sitting space to the rear. The scale was much smaller, however, and quite crowded with all the people in the room. Half a dozen men and women bustled about, intent on unpacking the trio’s belongings. Raven reflected they probably hadn’t had to do much to settle her into the quarters, as she’d shown up with nothing but the clothes on her back and bullet wounds. She still wore her camosuit. Besides the too-revealing outfit she’d worn earlier, she didn’t have any possessions.
Daagiis walked around the room, sweeping a short wand object before him. Raven’s programming told her he was scanning for hidden weaponry and explosives, along with spying devices. Her job while he did this was to keep an eye on the crew neatly hanging Vendeen’s clothes in a closet and sticking close to him.
Vendeen paid no attention to everyone else going about their duties. He headed straight for the bar in the corner of the room and fixed himself a drink. Daagiis had already scanned that area, but Raven examined the area anyway, checking for potential harm. When Vendeen raised his glass to his lips, she grabbed it from him. She sniffed it suspiciously and then had a small taste. The stuff tasted good but it was acidic, burning her lips and tongue. Her program declared the drink safe. She handed it back to her master.
He took it with an amused expression. He called to Daagiis, “You thought of everything, my servant. Even an anti-poisoning routine.”
The face-changer sniffed, obviously insulted that Vendeen would think he’d miss any detail in Raven’s ability to guard. “I should hope so.”
For Raven’s part, she could only scowl. “Damn, it’s weird to do stuff like I was born to it and have it not be my own thoughts. It all feels like me, though.”
The crew finally finished unpacking and left the room. Vendeen went to the small sitting area next to the bar and sank down in an elegant chair with an ottoman, which he rested his booted feet on. There was a second chair and a settee, but Daagiis still swept the room. Raven was all too aware she was to remain standing behind Vendeen’s seat until Daagiis gave the all clear. Plus, as Vendeen’s first protector, the Paatiin got dibs over Raven on whatever seat he wanted.
It really was disconcerting to know things she shouldn’t.
Daagiis switched off his scanner and slipped it into a pouch on his belt. He smiled at Raven. “Usually you’d be allowed to learn most of this stuff at your own pace, but we have no time for that in this instance. Especially since we’re heading for the unpoliced borders of civilized space.”
“Right into the stronghold of Hanos,” Vendeen growled. He took a sip of his drink and grimaced with pleasure. “Both of you sit down so we can discuss this a bit more for Raven’s benefit.”
Daagiis sprawled sexily on the mauve-cushioned settee, looking like the male model of any ad that needed a stunning body. Maybe men’s cologne. He was ridiculously handsome, enough that Raven’s undercarriage tightened. She frowned at herself and perched on the armchair that matched Vendeen’s. There was no way she could sprawl half as elegantly as Daagiis.
The Paatiin considered her. “You’ve already got more information than you might be consciously aware of, Raven. It’s not just hand-to-hand combat techniques and protection protocols in your database. You now possess all our combined knowledge on fighting with weapons and covert operations.”
Vendeen added, “As you pointed out already, it’s like your own thoughts and hard-won experience when it comes time to use these abilities. Daagiis spent a lot of time programming it just right.”
Raven had already seized on one item Daagiis had mentioned. “Covert operations. So I can sneak around and spy on others if I need to?”
The face-changer nodded. “I tried to come up with every possible scenario when it came to your programs. I cannot stress to you enough the danger Vendeen will be in. He’s easily recognizable to Hanos’ men, mostly because he lived among them for so long. Even the new hires will know him because there isn’t anything Hanos won’t do to get his hands on Vendeen, given the right circumstances.”
Raven narrowed her eyes at the judge. Vendeen sat relaxed with his drink, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. She asked him, “Why are you going along on this jaunt? Why not stay safe on the station where Hanos can’t touch you?”
Vendeen turned his gaze to her. It was a hard look, a look that could have frozen the blood in her veins had she not known it was his enemy he was thinking of. There was absolutely no mercy or conscience in that stare.
His voice as brittle with ice as his black eyes, Vendeen told her, “Hanos must be stopped at all costs. Though I haven’t found a way to rid the universe of his cancer and may not be able to kill him this time, I will at least show him nowhere is safe from my reach. He will know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will see him dead.”
His words were like a stone dropped into her gut. In that moment, Raven saw Vendeen’s almost compulsive drive to destroy his enemy. It was the kind of thirst for vengeance that would make the man pursue Hanos no matter the consequences to himself. She would have to protect Vendeen as much from his own bloodlust as she would have to guard him against Hanos. She knew it because no revenge existed deadlier to one’s self than that of obsessive hatred.
The kind of blind hatred she acknowledged feeling for Taambaa.
* * * *
The spaceship took off, leaving the space station behind to continue its circuit of the frontier. After dinner and an hour’s flight, Daagiis set out three bodyhugging suits on the bed. Raven looked them over with suspicion. They were dark gray with stiff black piping that ran all over the fabric in random-seeming paths.
“What is with this dimension and the skintight leotard look?” she sighed.
The two men were already stripping their clo
thes off, apparently ready to suit up. “It’s a simsuit. Put it on,” Daagiis told her. “We’ve got more training to do.”
“Swimsuit?” She shrugged out of the camosuit and picked up her new threads. Unlike the outfit she’d been wearing, this one didn’t have feet. It ended at the ankles.
“Sim-suit. As in ‘simulation’. Those are sensory pathways on it.”
He might as well have been speaking his native Paatiin. Raven decided she’d find out soon enough what was going on.
After the three were dressed, they padded down the ship’s corridors in their bare feet. Daagiis led as usual, holding a large black case he’d taken out of their quarters’ closet. He took them to the end of one carpeted hallway to enter a large, featureless room. It was just like the one back on the space station where Raven had battled the two men hand-to-hand.
“Are we fighting again?” she asked.
Vendeen watched as Daagiis opened the case. “We’re going to simulate a firefight situation like you might find on one of Hanos’ stations. I need to see if your program is fully operational or if some tweaking is necessary.”
Daagiis took what looked like a badly rendered toy gun out of the case. It had rested in a slot along with five other matching pieces. He handed it to Raven. “A practice sim gun. You won’t actually hurt anyone with this.”
“Gee, where’s the fun in that?” She looked it over. The barrel part of the thing was rectangular, not rounded. The grip was similarly block-shaped, not terribly comfortable and rather large for her small hand. It was hollow, apparently to hold a magazine much like her sidearm on Earth. It had a trigger but no guard.
This practice piece had not been made to be aesthetically pleasing. It looked brutish, almost primitive. Raven liked that. Handguns had only one function: to kill people. It was right that their forms should reflect that.
Vendeen looked over his own piece. “Real firearms are not allowed to be used on ships. One little hole in the hull and you have big trouble.”
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