Apparently, there are hundreds of ‘perfect’ clans for Candy so far, and more are added to her list each day. Watching as she went through the stats on her beaus, I couldn’t figure out what her guidelines had been. There were younger clans, fresh-faced, strong, and gorgeous. There were older clans, maturity stamped on their expressions. Still strong and gorgeous. I couldn’t believe how hot one threesome was whose youngest member was supposedly ninety. Sure, Kalquorians live an average of about 250 years, but those virile-looking guys were ridiculous with sexy power.
Politicians. Business owners. Military men. Doctors. Miners. Farmers. Every conceivable occupation seemed to be represented. If that was Candy being picky, I can’t imagine how many more applicants she would have to field if she hadn’t narrowed the choices down.
“It’s a smorgasbord of Kalquorian beefcake,” I commented. “I can’t figure out how you’ll narrow this down before we land there. How will you ever pick your first clan to meet?”
“Oh, I’ll figure it out. I’m in no hurry yet,” Candy said, waving her hand dismissively as she eyeballed the vid of three delicious specimens. Supervisor for shuttle manufacturing plant, professional kurble coach, and sentient being rights consultant their professions read. The members of that clan sounded kind of important. I wondered what kind of candidates I’d attract.
“At one time you sounded as if you couldn’t wait to get hitched,” I said.
Candy grinned at me. “I’m looking forward to being the center of three men’s world, but did you read the amenities they plan to have at the compound they’re building for us? It’s as marvelous as a fabulous retreat for the rich and famous! We will be so spoiled rotten, no clan will choose us.” Candy laughed with childlike delight.
“What kind of amenities?” I asked. I hadn’t thought of where I’d end up staying as Mom got help and I was courted by clans. I’d hazily visualized a small, cheap apartment setting.
“Oh, not much,” Candy said in a tone that told me she was being silly. “A workout center, pools, spas where a species known as the Tratsods give relaxation treatments and massages—”
“Massages?” I interrupted. “You mean they put their hands on us?” Such things had been illegal on Earth, except in the case of medical rehabilitation.
“Tratsods don’t have hands,” Candy informed me. “They have lots of tiny tentacles. They touch you, but since they aren’t compatible for sex with us, it’s not a big deal.”
“Wow,” I said, trying to assimilate all the information. “What else?”
“Beauty treatments. Guest speakers and entertainers. Boring stuff such as medical care. Kalquorian language classes. Childcare.”
“Childcare?” I snorted. “Kind of putting the cart before the horse, aren’t they?”
“Goof. There’ll be women who bring their kids along, those whose husbands didn’t survive.”
I could have smacked my own head for stupidity. “Wow. Can you imagine? I wonder how many clans are going to want to take care of Earther kids.” I was glad I wasn’t in that situation. I can’t imagine being desperate not only to find a way to live, but having to make sure my children would have a decent situation in which to be raised. Things are tough enough worrying about my mom.
Candy brought up another vid, showing the planned complex where all us single Earther gals would live until clans swept us off our feet and carried us into the sunset. “Already under construction,” she explained.
As we went over all the perks included, I could see why eager Candy might put off joining a clan. It was as if we were being offered a fabulous vacation.
“Food, board, allowance...wow,” I breathed.
“And hundreds of men begging for our attention, proclaiming our greatness as ‘lifebringers’,” Candy giggled. “It’s a huge change from being Earth’s evil temptresses bent on fouling up all of creation, isn’t it?”
I agreed. It was starting to sound kind of fun. I thought maybe I should start working on my own questionnaire. Maybe after we start heading towards Kalquor, anyway.
I spent the afternoon with Mom, who was too quiet for my liking. Lying about all day except for therapy is not much fun for her. She doesn’t have enough muscle control to knit. She can’t go for walks, though I did get her in a hover chair and take her outside after getting permission from her doctors. After we came back in, I went through the library of entertainment vids, trying to illicit some interest from her to watch a concert or movie or documentary. Every suggestion I made was met with either silence or the same response over and over; a slurred, “If you like.” She’s got no spark. No real interest. Mom seems to exist in a fog from which she catches a glimpse of the world around her from time to time. She’s beginning to scare me. I’m worried she’s giving up. Maybe I should have her put into stasis, though that thought terrifies me too. It’s selfish of me, but even with her being so diminished, she’s still my mom and therefore, important to have close by. I want her in any capacity I can have her. Cryo-freezing her and placing her in a storage bin until she gets to Kalquor is too awful to contemplate, even if it is for her own good.
I met with Candy again for dinner. Thank God for that woman. She looks at this mess of a world and the uncertain future ahead with such optimism. She sees only the amazing things that might be, and every option is better than the last. Why–WHY–can’t I be like that instead of old sourpuss, cynical Shalia Monroe? I would love to go through life with the attitude of a kid in a perpetual candy store. Ha, ‘candy’ store. Pun not intended.
Matt King sat with us in the re-opened dining hall. Life has been quiet since the Academy hunkered down and increased site and buffering security rather than chasing the attackers all over Georgia.
Nang is waiting for the worst to happen, but he puts a good face on it for me. Usually when I ask about how matters are, he shrugs me off. “Every day we don’t experience casualties is a great day,” he says. Which isn’t the most calming response for my nerves, but I know he’s busy and stressed. I let it go and offer him the comfort a girl with a taste for being tied up and spanked can.
Anyway, Matt sat with me and Candy. We talked about a bunch of stuff, such as the lack of attacks, the earsplitting nature of Kalquorian lemanthev music, my mom’s health, the upcoming transport of malcontents to Galactic Council space, reminiscing about our old lives...gosh, everything under the sun. Candy did most of the talking, jumping from subject to subject, running on as she often does. I exchanged many an amused glance with Matt at our Candy’s effusive chatter. I wouldn’t trade that girl for the world. Now if Weln would get his cute tush in here, I might end the day with a smile on my face.
November 16
Tonight is going to be good. Nang and I are going to have a private dinner together in one of the empty dorms and spend the night there as well. I didn’t ask him how his clanmates feel about him spending an entire night off. I have heard such things are not popular among the Kalquorians. The shocked expression I got from Weln when I told him about it this morning said it all.
“A Dramok sleeping away from his clan for the sake of having sex? That’s unheard of,” my cutie-pie Imdiko said.
“You aren’t sleeping with your clan. You’re sleeping with me,” I pointed out.
“That’s different,” he said. “I’m with you on my clan’s behalf to make sure you are taken care of until you leave for Kalquor. When did Dusa ever spend a night with you and not Esak?”
“There were a few times when Esak was working a night shift—”
“But never when Esak was available. It’s not done.” Weln was adamant on that count.
I don’t pretend to understand the intricacies of clan life. I would suspect Weln was upset I’m not sleeping with him, except he’s doing a night shift. He’s got a new elderly charge who is so traumatized by everything that’s happened to him that he wakes up at all hours of the night screaming. Poor man. Poor Weln who has a three-night run of soothing the insomniac fellow.
Meanwh
ile, I have a bedmate to keep my own nightmares at bay tonight, and I’m not worrying about how Nang’s clan will take it. That’s the commander’s problem. Instead, I’ll try to be more like Candy and thank the universe for every little good moment that comes in my direction. Maybe it will invite more nice events if I have a grateful attitude.
I’m going to have a bath and do myself up to give old Nang a special thrill. I’m still swiping Candy’s clothes, and did she have something astounding for me to use on my date tonight. Where that crazy woman found a garter belt and stockings is beyond me, and she’s not talking...at least not about that. Her face was beet red when she showed them to me.
“Don’t wear panties,” she dared me. “Just these under the skirt. It will blow his mind.”
I think she’s right, so I’m doing it. I’m showing up demurely dressed except for the missing drawers.
November 16, later
I’m waiting for Nang to come escort me to our special place. I’m all dressed...sans underpants of course. It feels weird to not be wearing panties. All airy and naughty. I know, I’ve not worn them before. It’s still strange when I do it.
Weln is acting a bit odd. While I was bathing, he left a message on my com that he had to talk to me as soon as possible. “There’s news you need to hear, and you need to hear it now,” he said. He didn’t sound upset or panicked. He sounded pissed off.
Of course my initial worry was that Mom has suffered a setback. I commed, but Weln didn’t answer. I didn’t bother to leave him a message, knowing he was probably too busy. Besides, there are better people to talk to if trouble is up with Mom. I commed Dad next, because he’d have all the details.
“Eve is fine,” Dad assured me. “She’s resting, but I want to discuss what we need to do for her. Can you meet with me tomorrow?”
“Sure,” I answered. I felt all squirmy inside because, me being me, I’m expecting the news to be bad.
Nothing terrible is happening that Dad knows of and Nang will be here any moment, so I’ve decided not to try to com Weln again. Tomorrow will be soon enough to deal with non-emergencies. My hair is fixed as best as I can do–clean and brushed, in other words. I’ve put on the little bit of makeup I have. I’ve got on a pretty lace-trimmed blouse and a skirt with heels that make my legs look killer. I’m not wearing underwear. Damn it, I’m ready to have a nice dinner and a naughty romp. I don’t want to hear anything bad.
Nang’s here! I’m off.
November 17
Ah, what a night. That was definitely one for the books.
Dinner was so lovely. Nang had it all arranged before he brought me to a very nice dorm room. He must have consulted a vid on dating Earthers, because he did it up similar to how a date looked in the movies. Soft music playing in the background. Candlelight. China plates. Crystal glasses. Real silverware. A snow-white tablecloth. Champagne, and ronka steaks in an unbelievably delicious sauce. To top it off, a fruit dessert so heavenly that it set off a reaction that was the epicurean equivalent of an orgasm.
Nang had dressed up, at least in Kalquorian style. I was startled to realize I’d only ever seen him in his armored formsuit or naked. He had a long-sleeved sunshine yellow shirt on that was low-necked enough to show off that mighty chest to advantage. It actually made his skin glow. Yellow is a good color on that man. His chocolate brown pants molded deliciously to his butt and thighs. I wish it had been chocolate; I would have licked it off his too-gorgeous self.
He pulled my chair out for me. Rather than sit across the small, intimate table, he sat next to me. The meal was right out of a young woman’s romantic fantasy; quiet conversation which consisted mostly of Nang singing the praises of Shalia, gentle kisses here and there, and even occasionally feeding me with his fingers. We laughed and acted like a couple in the first throes of love.
Hokey. Silly. But so very, very wonderful. I felt as if I were in a dream.
Gentleman Nang was a revelation. I enjoyed him as much as a woman could. When the Naughty Nang I’m familiar with took over after the champagne and dessert were all gone, I was ready for him too.
“I have such plans for you tonight, my lovely Shalia,” the commander said, his expression going erotically ominous.
“I hope so,” I answered. I shifted in such a way so that my skirt rode up and showed off the lacy top of my stockings. Nang’s eyes widened in appreciation.
“What have we here?” he asked. He ran his finger over the top of my thigh, pushing the skirt hem higher and higher until he discovered my dirty secret: no panties. I was thrilled when his fangs descended in an expression of pure lust.
“Oh, you bad little girl,” he breathed. “You’ve been sitting here all this time like the sweetest thing imaginable, and all along you’re being so mischievous.”
“Whatever will you do with me?” I stage-sighed.
“Unluckily for you, I have the perfect punishment in store,” Nang grinned. “Get up and come over here.”
‘Over here’ was in a second room that was bare except for a length of cord coiled on the floor and what seemed to be a pulley system installed on the ceiling. I swallowed, suddenly and incredibly nervous.
“Um...Nang? What’s all this?”
His grin grew bigger and scarier. Me being the strange woman that I am, I found the expression exciting. I couldn’t wait to hand myself over to the commander.
“Don’t worry, Shalia,” Nang said. “You’re going to find out what I have in store for you. Strip.”
My clothes went flying. Seconds after the order, I stood before Nang, naked and shivering. Not from cold. No, I was almost sweating from the heat that came from that Kalquorian’s possessive stare.
“Good girl. I’d reward you if you would continue to do what you’re told, but you won’t have much choice.” He drew me to stand beneath the pulley block and the cording that depended from it. “Now stand still. You do not dare move, Shalia.”
That dark stare made me instinctively lower my gaze. “Yes, Nang.”
He picked up the coiled cord on the floor by my feet. The next thing I knew, he was knotting it around my waist and back, tying it into a complicated diamond pattern on the front of my torso, from beneath my breasts to just above my hips. I watched, fascinated as he worked almost too quickly for the eyes. I’d never been tied up so prettily.
“Hands behind, right above your ass,” Nang said.
I did as I was commanded, and the cord went about my wrists. I noticed Nang put a finger between the binding and my skin, making sure to not cut off my circulation. What a nice guy, I thought. That notion would haunt me later.
He did some more work across my back, where I couldn’t watch. Since the front was so nice and artistic, I wanted to see the rest. However, Nang had that alpha dog demeanor, the expression that left me unsure if speaking would get me into trouble. I kept my mouth shut. Nang is a dog that will bite.
After a few minutes, he said, “Up you go, little one.” He pulled on the business end of the pulley and I discovered I was attached to the other end. I rose up in the air with a squeal of surprise. He didn’t put me up too far; just so that my toes left the ground.
Nang chuckled at my shock. Then he returned to work, binding my ankles and tying them so that my legs bent back and up, holding me wide open. I thrilled to where that was going.
“Very nearly done, my sweet prisoner,” the commander grunted. He moved in front of me. I saw how swollen his groin was, and it made me wet in an instant. I love witnessing how much a man wants me. It gives me a rush of power, even when I’m tied up and at his mercy.
Nang’s cord was winding about my chest, framing my breasts and cinching tight enough to make them dark with slowed circulation without impeding my breath. Goodness.
“Perfect,” Nang breathed. “Open your mouth.”
I did so and received a mouthful of the cord he was tying me up with. He gagged me with it and tied it off behind my head. Carefully, he tilted my head and bound me in such a way that I cou
ldn’t do more than shake it from side to side a little. As a matter of fact, that was all the movement I could manage. I was trussed tighter than a Christmas turkey.
Nang stepped back to view his work. “Oh yes,” he said, his voice edging into a feral growl. “By the ancestors, that is perfection.”
I could only look at him. I couldn’t speak and I couldn’t move. I was at his mercy, suspended there in midair. He gave me a gentle push, setting me to twirl slowly around. He stopped me when I faced him again.
“Mine,” he said, his tone dangerous. “If I could, I’d keep you here so I could come in and enjoy you whenever I wanted.”
Terror thrilled through me at his words, though his menace was only part of our fun. When he gazed at me with that threat, it was easy to imagine him carrying it out.
Shalia's Diary Omnibus Page 35