Captive
The young Elite Guard was holding himself together by the barest thread, his rage and despair tearing at his control, threatening to send him into a mindless frenzy. Jagung, his lover, his mate, was missing, taken fuck knows where by fuck knows who.
But he knew Jagung was still alive.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm fuckin' sure!"
Merica knew what Apyo was thinking; only bonded mates could sense each other over any distance, and Merica had only claimed Jagung, not bonded with him.
Maybe so, but Merica could *feel* his mate – faintly, fading in and out like a sun going behind clouds – he just couldn't *reach* him. Merica swore that if – when, dammit! – he got Jagung back he wasn't going to let that little kusoyaro out of his sight; he'd chain his mate to his side if necessary.
"Any idea where?"
"No!" Merica snarled at his fellow Guard, "but he's not far..."
Rillan-ema perched - as inconspicuously as was possible for one of her species – at the back of the buyers viewing area; Yurew, her smaller, wingless aide, sat at her side, too engrossed in the data on his comm-pad to question the co-governor's unusual actions. It was a fine day, the empty sky had that lovely clear greenish tint that reminded Rillan-ema of her homeworld and she could feel the faint rays of the distant sun mildly warm over her rich, purple skin. The Qeft wasn't sure why she was here - she didn't need any more household slaves - but, rather than going straight home from Governors' chambers as she normally did, on a whim she'd come to the auction area.
It was an interesting collection of merchandise being displayed. There were several children of various species for sale, all of them small and frightened and quite pretty with it. She didn't even consider bidding on them; bringing something so young into her house would be tantamount to killing it herself. There was one adult female though, who caught her attention. A beautiful, dusky red creature with generous bronze curls tumbling around her exotic face. The brand on her upper thigh – the auctioneer pointed out – proclaimed her as coming straight from one of the sex training houses. The female wasn't a virgin, if she had been, the auctioneer would have turned himself inside out to make that a selling point, and he wouldn't have been quite so willing to dabble his fingers in her to demonstrate her responsiveness. Rillan-ema was almost tempted - the creature was quite enchanting - but the Qeft decided against it; something that enticing would be bound to attract the attention of her husband. The bidding for the female was fierce, not surprisingly, eventually reaching a price that had the auctioneer almost wetting himself in anticipation of his commission.
Rillan-ema thought about going home, there was a lot she had to be doing after all, but - she mused to herself as she stretched out her great, leather wings and settled herself more comfortably in her seat - surely it would do no harm if she took a little leisure time for herself.
The next item for sale created even more interest than the red female. A slender male, adult – if the advanced state of his external genitalia was anything to go by – and definitely not happy about being here. Shadowed, hunter's eyes glared out at his potential owners from an attractive, high-cheekboned face. He gave an impression of arrogance and disdain, despite having his arms bound behind his back – solid, dull metal clamps at his wrists and elbows – and the heavy, metal collar clamped around his neck. None of the other merchandise had been bound so securely, and the chain attached to his collar looked much stronger than the token chains normally used. The slaves for sale were routinely displayed naked, but this intriguing male had something around his waist... Rillan-ema squinted, trying to get a better look at it, but gave up and took the easy option of telekinetically *feeling* the object. She sent out a tendril of energy – one that only another Qeft could see – and lightly brushed over the male. Through the tactile feedback she could *feel* that the thing around his waist was warm, and furry, quite soft - but even more interesting was the male's startled reaction to her *touch*. He jumped, his eyes darting nervously from side to side, earning himself a sharp slap on his buttocks from his handler. The male turned and snarled at the burly Prendian, and almost got yanked off balance as the handler pulled hard on the chain. Rillan-ema's slanted amethyst eyes gleamed, it was rare to see something so – unbroken – on the auction block; this one could be worth the potential price. She extended her *touch* again, stroking lightly down the male's taut abdomen, combing *fingers* gently through the red-gold thatch of curls, before completely wrapping his lax penis in invisible bands. The wild male froze at her touch – looking horrified for a split second before schooling his face to neutrality. The Qeft smirked quietly to herself, and began to *stroke* his penis. He was hot, literally, and well endowed, firm and silken and quite impressive erect. The auctioneer peered at the male's groin, then grinned avariciously and the bidding began.
Rillan-ema left her bid almost to the last, interested to see how much the creature would fetch. Initially there was a little hesitation from the buyers - this one looked like he could be a lot of work to break into a usable state - but even so it was a decent price he'd raised before the Qeft stepped in. She'd won him, as she knew she would, no-one would presume to outbid her. Leaving Yurew to sort out the details, Rillan-ema leapt into the sky, her massive purple wings creating a strong down-draft, as she took the much-preferred aerial route to her mountain home.
Rillan-ema's residence was essentially a large - as befitted her stature as co-governor - colourfully tiled square surrounded by a high stone wall. Heavy material awnings were attached to the walls in places, providing shelter for her non-Qeft slaves, and to cover the cooking space and her work area.
The Qeft alighted in the the centre of the courtyard to be greeted warmly by her body-slave, Ayond. Rillan-ema smiled at the tiny, plain female. She was quite fond of Ayond, the little slave had been with her for years and as well as being practical, efficient and discreet, she adored her mistress. Rillan-ema undid the clasps that held together her light top and kilted skirt, letting the garments drop to the tiled floor of the courtyard. Ayond 'tched' at her as the Qeft stepped away from the small pile and stretched luxuriously in the light of the feeble sun. The Qeft, as a people, were always happier naked, but in public would clothe themselves so as not to offend the sensibilities of the peoples they ruled. In their private residences however, no one could begrudge them their preferences.
Rillan-ema strode over to her work desk, settling herself comfortably on the low stool before reaching for the ever-present paperwork. So many Qeft - those not directly concerned with running the Realm, of course - thought the power and prestige of a co-governor's position would mean an easy, indulged life; Rillan-ema grimaced, if only they realised just how tedious and time-consuming the day-to-day business was, they wouldn't be nearly so envious.
She got quite a lot of work done before her new acquisition arrived. It had taken time for the transfer of ownership, and still more time while Yurew organised the purchase price to be made over from the co-governor's accounts; then the new slave had to be secured for transport before being brought up the mountain. Yurew had, with his usual efficiency, thought to inform the local slave-regulator of the co-governor's purchase, so there was no time wasted waiting for the regulator to arrive.
Rillan-ema got her first close look at her purchase. She towered over him, naturally, the Qeft towered over most species they came in contact with. The male didn't seem to be impressed by her stature, though, as he glared defiantly up at her. He really was quite pretty - she thought - softly glowing pale golden skin, and a head of thick, unruly, red-gold hair that flowed to half-way down his back. He was definitely an adult and hopefully too old to attract her husband's interest; but Tokkah-rea had done things out of character before simply to annoy her. Rillan-ema scowled, silently cursing again the circumstances that had forced her into the unholy alliance with the magnificent looking male Qeft. She cast all thoughts of her husband from her mind and continued the scrutiny of her purchase. Rillan-ema looked closely at the slave's face, ignoring his low-throated growls. The male's eyes were an unusual, beautiful shade of grey-green, and quite compelling even almost hidden behind the ferocious scowl.
"What is this?" she reached out to touch the furry thing around his waist and was surprised at his vehement reaction, having to snatch her hand away before it got bitten. She *grabbed* his throat, squeezing tightly as she lifted him bodily off the floor. The male's eyes bulged and she shook him roughly before letting him drop to the ground.
"That will be quite enough of that." she said firmly.
Rillan-ema spoke in Common but even if he didn't understand her words, there was no mistaking her tone. She wandered around behind him, appreciating his long, elegantly muscled legs and nicely rounded buttocks, then bent down for a closer look at the furry thing. It appeared to be an extension of his spine, the fur starting just inside the top of the cleft between his buttocks.
"Oh, it's a tail." she said. "Why are you keeping it around your waist?"
The male didn't answer, glaring steadfastly in front of himself.
Rillan-ema glanced at her aide.
"Does he have a name?"
The small, dark blue, wingless Qeft consulted his ever-present comm-pad.
"None given, governor."
"What species is he?"
Yurew shrugged apologetically.
"Unknown."
"Any other details?"
"He had to be given a drug to keep him quiet; apparently he created havok when he was first brought in. It's estimated to wear off by this evening."
The Qeft frowned.
"The ordino should keep him docile, but can we get a supply of the drug, just in case?"
Yurew nodded and made a note on his comm-pad.
Rillan-ema looked down at her new slave.
"You belong to me. Understand this and life will be easier for you."
The male snarled at her, and the Qeft chuckled.
"I'm going to call you minao. That's a stupidly aggressive, but pretty, little animal we have on my homeworld." She grinned at Yurew. "I think that's quite appropriate." The lesser Qeft chuckled as well.
"I am a Saiyan Elite." The male ground out threateningly, "I am nobody's property."
Rillan-ema's hand lashed out faster than the alien could react. She gripped his chin, her razor claws emerging from their sheaths to pierce his surprisingly tough skin.
"You are cheom shit if you don't do as you're told."
She retracted her claws before giving him a stinging slap across his face that sent him staggering. "But now I know you can understand me."
The Qeft inclined her head at the slave-regulator, giving him permission to begin his work.
"If you could help hold him, my Lady…?"
Rillan-ema nodded curtly and reached out her energy to the alien, *pushing* him to lie face-down on the tiles. He struggled, making it hard work for her to hold him still. Rillan-ema's fine control of her telekinesis was excellent but she wasn't that strong -she wouldn't be able to keep this up for long.
The regulator knelt beside the prone alien, opening the case containing the tools of his trade; he took out a small sealed box, and a very sharp scalpel. Rillan-ema squatted down on the other side of the slave to watch; she always found the fitting of an ordino a fascinating procedure.
The regulator probed around the base of the alien's tail, frowning.
"The device normally goes into this area."
"Does the tail present a problem? We could remove it if it does."
The regulator shook his elongated head.
"I don't think so. I'll open him up and see."
Rillan-ema was well aware of Minao stiffening under her invisible bonds at the mention of losing his tail. Useful - it was always handy to have another method of control for a thick-headed slave.
The regulator deftly cut into the skin on the underside of the slave's tail, at the very base where it joined his body, making a small 'T' shaped incision. Rillan-ema absently shifted some of her energy to cover the alien's mouth as he screamed.
"No, I don't think it will be a problem, my Lady." The regulator said after cutting through the muscle and exposing the bone. "The ordino should work just as well." He put the scalpel away, then carefully broke the seal on the box. Using a pair of long tweezers the regulator gingerly lifted a small blob of black semi-solid gel out of its container, quickly positioning it inside the incision. Rillan-ema watched with morbid fascination as the blob stirred, then oozed between the joints of Minao's spine, seeping in past the cartilage.
"If you would care to test it, my Lady?"
The Qeft peeled off a fine tendril of energy, questing carefully, *feeling* her way through Minao's body to the ordino. The new slave howled in anguish as she lightly *tapped* the blob, causing it to apply a small charge of energy directly to Minao's spinal cord.
"Perfect!" she smiled at the regulator, who inclined his head, then began to sew up the small wound.
Rillan-ema sat back and accepted the drink Ayond gave her. The small body-slave's hands shook as she passed the delicate container to her mistress. Rillan-ema smiled at her and patted her hand consolingly - Ayond was probably remembering her own ordino being fitted.
The ordinos were an amazing invention, Rillan-ema thought, and so effective. The semi-organic devices had been especially designed for slaves of the Qefts; they could only be triggered by a telekinetic probe, or in rare cases, by spinal damage in the area. The devices wrapped themselves around the spinal cord, feeding minutely off their host body's energy, converting that, when necessary, to the disciplinary 'charge'. Once they were in place, they couldn't be removed.
Minao was trembling and sweating, his breath panting heavily against the tiled floor. He was unlikely to be much of a threat for the moment; Rillan-ema withdrew the bands of energy holding him down, and removed the bindings from his wrists and elbows. As soon as he was released, Minao curled in on himself - not an uncommon reaction – painfully unwinding his tail from about his waist and pulling it between his legs. Rillan-ema left him like that for a few minutes while the regulator readied his tools for the next step of the process.
"Minao," she said sternly to the shaking slave, "you have to sit up now."
He managed to glare at her, and didn't move. Rillan-ema sighed, and *tapped* the ordino in his spine. Minao's shriek echoed around the courtyard.
"Sit up."
She thought for a moment she'd have to discipline him again, but he slowly, reluctantly, dragged himself to his knees, his tail wrapped tightly round his thigh.
"If you could hold him still again, please, my Lady?"
Rillan-ema wrapped her slave in invisible energy, gently but firmly supporting his trembling body this time, rather than pinning him. The regulator flicked a small switch on the side of a slender wand, and Minao watched, dull-eyed, as the spiral of metal at the tip of it glowed red-hot. The branding happened with the minimum of fuss from the slave, Minao only gasping as the regulator pressed the burning spiral into his skin several times in a pattern to indicate he was the property of Rillan-ema. The Qeft looked admiringly at the clean lines of the beautifully executed design sitting halfway between Minao's dusky nipple and his shoulder bone; this regulator was a real artist.
The regulator rubbed a lotion onto the brand that would make certain it left a raised scar, before covering the area with a transparent wound dressing. Then he neatly repacked his tools, accepted Rillan-ema's profuse thanks - but not her offer of refreshment, he had several other jobs to attend to - and quietly left. The co-governor ordered her body slave to see to the new slave's needs, then went back to her work.
The sun was setting and there was a distinct chill in the air by the time Rillan-ema had completed all her tasks and was ready to sit down to her evening meal. She hadn't given her new slave a second thought all day, knowing that Ayond would inform her of anything she needed to know. Minao was tethered by his heavy collar and chain to a large bolt sunk into the floor of the courtyard, docile for the moment, but Rillan-ema doubted such a spirit could be broken simply by being fitted with the ordino.
Now that Rillan-ema was at her leisure, her mind free of the duties of governing, she was able to give some thought to her new acquisition. He'd called himself a 'Saiyan Elite'. The words sounded familiar to her and it had only taken a short time to find out why. A group of Saiya-jin had been on her homeworld recently, diplomatic negotiations or some such. She studied the reports made of them. By all accounts they were fearsome warriors, arrogant and touchy - she smiled, that sounded accurate - and, she read on, there had been some trouble. The report was unclear as to what had happened, but a small group of them had been attacked outside the capital… and one of them had gone missing. She glanced up at Minao - that was probably him. She wondered if his people would come looking for him, or if they were even still in-system, or if she'd be inclined to sell him back to them in the unlikely event they managed to trace him. Rillan-ema shook her head ruefully; they were idle questions, not deserving of her time. What threat could these Saiyans be to her, let alone the Realm…
Ayond was trying to coax the Saiyan into eating. The little body-slave held up a dish of mixed local foods to the slave but he snarled at her and hit the plate out of her hand. Ayond scrambled back from him as he stood up and began to pull against his chain. Rillan-ema sighed, and sent out a thread of energy, letting him feel it hover over the ordino. Minao snarled at her, lunging against his restraints. Rillan-ema's amethyst eyes narrowed in annoyance and she *tapped* his ordino, hard. The pain was so intense the Saiyan only managed to let out a strangled groan before he dropped heavily - unconscious - to the hard tiles.
"Are you all right, Ayond?"
Rillan-ema squatted down next to her body-slave, touching the female's shoulder lightly.
"Yes, mistress." She was shaking. "Why did he do that? I was only trying to help."
"Sometimes, I think, it takes people a long time to realise when they're beaten." She patted Ayond's shoulder, then stood up and stretched to her wingtips. "Cover him, then have something to eat yourself." She lightly tapped the body-slave's broad nose and grinned. "I'll require your services tonight."
"As you wish, mistress." Ayond said demurely but with a happy gleam in her eyes.
During the night Rillan-ema had been woken from a deep sleep by the sound of the Saiyan pulling at his restraints.
"Minao!" she barked at the slave, a telekinetic thread poised over his ordino; he growled softly, but stopped what he was doing.
He refused to eat again at the morning meal until Rillan-ema, quite fed-up with his obstinacy, had lightly *brushed* the ordino several times, leaving him shaking and weakened. The Saiyan took the bowl of food she gave him and began to eat despondently, beautiful eyes downcast, despair evident in his every move.
Today was theoretically a free day for Rillan-ema and she was determined to at least have the morning to herself before the needs of the Realm took precedence again. She dressed lightly then spent a leisurely hour flying over and around the Qeft enclave, lazily riding the thermals that spiraled up from the mountains, delighting in the chill breeze flowing over her body and through the soft, pale purple fuzz that covered her scalp.
"Any problems?" she asked Icahr - the old male slave who ran her household - on her return. Icahr knew precisely what she was referring to; he shot a distrustful look at the Saiyan tethered to the floor.
"No problems, mistress, hasn't stirred a muscle."
Ayond approached her then, carrying a bottle of scented oil and a blunt curved instrument as long as her hand.
"Would you like to take your ablutions now, mistress?"
Rillan-ema beamed at the little body-slave; Ayond knew her so well.
"Thank you, Ayond, that would be lovely."
The Qeft didn't use water to clean themselves, instead, they massaged oils into their skins, then scraped the excess off, taking the dirt with it. Rillan-ema was almost asleep, completely relaxed under Ayond's skilled hands. The body-slave was using one of the co-governor's favourite oils, delicately scented with the essential oils from a selection of flowers from the Qeft homeworld. Ayond expertly stretched out one of her mistress's wings, soothing the oil into the delicate membrane before carefully scraping it off. As there was quite a lot of Rillan-ema to clean, her ablutions always took a long time, but she enjoyed every minute of it. The combination of the massage and the light scraping of her skin left her feeling simultaneously relaxed and invigorated - it was a good way to start the day. Ayond finished her task, and left her mistress to doze in the pale morning sun.
"Has he eaten today?" Rillan-ema asked Icahr. The old slave nodded.
"He ate quite a lot actually. If this keeps up he's going to cost a lot to feed."
Rillan-ema laughed and clapped her senior slave on the shoulder.
"Good, soon we'll be able to put him to work."
Icahr looked skeptical. "Maybe so, mistress."
Rillan-ema dismissed her slave with a smile, and stretched again; she felt marvelous. One gentle flap of her wings brought her close to Minao. The new slave was sitting cross-legged on the tiles, shivering slightly despite being wrapped in the colourful blanket Ayond had covered him with last night; he glared at her as she landed in front of him.
"Take the blanket off and stand up." Rillan-ema commanded. Minao growled at her and she *brushed* his ordino, making him bite back a yelp. She folded her arms across her smooth chest and silently counted down from five. Minao sullenly shook the blanket off and slowly stood up before she'd finished the count-down. Rillan-ema beamed down at him, pleased - maybe he was learning.
She gently peeled back the clear wound dressing and her eyebrows raised in surprise; the brand was completely healed, it wasn't even red.
"Amazing."
She brushed fingertips over the raised pattern.
"Turn around."
Minao hesitated just long enough to prompt Rillan-ema to threaten him with another jolt of pain, but not long enough for her to carry out her threat. She knelt behind him; the ordino wound was healed as well, there was only a thin 'T' shaped scar to mark the spot.
Rillan-ema, impressed with the speed of his healing, stroked the scar and Minao shuddered, hunching his shoulders. Rillan-ema watched his reaction through narrowed eyes, a small smile on her face. She stroked the scar again, moving her fingertips experimentally around the base of his tail. Minao gasped this time, and she grinned.
"Is your tail as sensitive, I wonder?" Rillan-ema mused out loud, fingers hovering over the red-gold fur.
"Don't." Minao ground out.
"Why not?"
Minao said nothing only hunching further in on himself. Rillan-ema smirked and gently touched his tail, stroking her fingers through the soft fur, enormously pleased with Minao's gasps and barely suppressed moans. She reached a hand around his hips and the Saiyan shuddered as her long fingers wrapped around his erection. Rillan-ema laughed delightedly, and she stood up, keeping one hand around his now firm penis, while the other continued to languidly stroke his tail. She leant down and whispered in his ear.
"What else do you like?"
Rillan-ema felt the bunching of his muscles a scant second before he lashed out, and quickly wrapped him in constrictive bands of telekinetic energy before he could do anything.
"Stupid, Minao, very stupid."
The Qeft quickened the movements of her hands, determinedly dragging the slave to a climax he didn't want. "I had thought to make this pleasurable for you…"
Minao shuddered as she masturbated him, his hands clenched into fists, eyes squeezed shut, fighting hard against the forced arousal. Rillan-ema smiled grimly as she sensed his control slip away from him.
"Don't ever do anything like that again." she whispered to him as she tipped him - unwillingly - over the edge, simultaneously *tapping* the Saiyan's ordino as he screamed and came.
Rillan-ema looked down at the panting, sweating slave trembling on the tiles, and shook her head sadly.
"Just accept your fate, Saiyan."
Minao swallowed convulsively, struggling to speak.
"Does this planet have a moon?" he managed to growl.
Rillan-ema was mystified. "Two. Why?"
The Saiyan bared his teeth, and smirked unpleasantly.
"Why?"
He remained silent. Rillan-ema scowled at him for a moment then gave up in disgust; she had better things to do than play question games with an ungrateful slave.
The long day stretched on; the co-governor managed to make a dent in the administrative work that she'd been assigned, so engrossed in her task she managed to forget the red-haired aggravation chained to the ground in her courtyard.
Ayond served her lunch, then timidly approached the Saiyan with his food. Rillan-ema watched, ready to discipline him if there was a repeat of last night's performance, but he accepted the food, even giving the small female the barest inclination of his head. Rillan-ema didn't get her hopes up that the sudden show of manners was indicating a change of heart.
What was she going to do with him? She'd bought him on an impulse - but why? He was very decorative, certainly, and physically strong, he'd be good for relieving Icahr of some of the heavier work - but that wasn't it. The Qeft delved deeper into herself, sighing in resignation when she realised what she'd done.
She'd gone and bought a bed-slave, hadn't she. Ayond had her uses but she wasn't male, and Rillan-ema wanted to be fucked, while still having control over her partner - not a surprising desire, she had no control over her husband. Now if the Saiyan would only co-operate, it could all be very pleasant… providing Tokkah-rea didn't decide to interfere.
"Do you need to bathe?" Ayond, at her mistress's prompting, asked the Saiyan. Minao eyed her suspiciously before nodding. The body-slave fetched a large bowl of hot, fragrantly scented water and a wash cloth for the male, gingerly putting it down within reach, but not so close she'd be within striking distance. Rillan-ema, now that she'd admitted her real reasons for buying the Saiyan, had no compunction about watching, and appreciating, him in a purely physical manner.
Minao washed himself with efficient, but graceful, movements, the action causing his muscles to flex smoothly beneath his pale golden skin. He was very supple, easily reaching behind himself and over his shoulders to wash his back. The Saiyan briefly unwound his tail to wash his torso and for a moment it waved languidly behind him. Rillan-ema feasted her eyes on his lithe form - Minao really was quite delectable. He raised his head and glared at her, almost as if he knew what she was thinking.
A large shadow passed over the courtyard and the Qeft's throat constricted in something close to terror until she realised it wasn't Tokkah-rea who alighted close to her.
"Tapsedi-ah!"
The relief that washed over Rillan-ema left her light-headed and she returned her cousin's greeting with a shaky smile.
"Working again?" Sirpu-reh chirped, folding her azure wings before helping herself to the remains of Rillan-ema's lunch.
"Well, it is time-consuming governing a region of one of the largest continents on this planet." Rillan-ema's smile was a trifle condescending; Sirpu-reh was one of those Qeft that just didn't have a clue.
"Shame," the dark-blue female said, "Tokkah was saying just the other day that you work so hard you have no time for him."
Rillan-ema just managed to not spill her drink.
"What did he say?"
"That you work so hard, you have no time for him." Sirpu-reh finished gnawing the meat from a small bone, "You should make more time for him, Rillan, he's really upset."
Rillan-ema lowered her eyes, struggling to control her panic. Tokkah had been talking about their marriage? Not just talking – promoting himself as the injured party, subtly turning people – her friends – against her. She wanted to vomit. She pulled herself together and smiled at her cousin.
"Much as I would like to spend more time with my husband, can I really put my personal pleasure ahead of needs of the Realm?"
"Yes, but – "
Rillan-ema held up a long hand, silencing her cousin.
"Sirpu, my hearts bleed when I think of my husband – " it was true, but not quite as Sirpu would interpret, " – but I must do what I must." Likewise, Rillan-ema's tears had nothing to do with sadness at being separated from Tokkah.
"I'm sorry, Rillan," the blue female was instantly contrite, "I hadn't realised how hard it is for you." Rillan-ema graciously accepted her cousin's sympathy before wiping her eyes and excusing herself to return to her work.
Rillan-ema waited until Sirpu was well out of sight before giving vent to her anger and dread. Ayond stood fearfully to one side while her mistress swore and raged; it was always like this when Tokkah was mentioned.
The Qeft had to spend some time at the Governor's chambers during the afternoon; long enough to regain her equilibrium and start thinking about Minao again – she was looking forward to the evening.
Rillan-ema had *caressed* the Saiyan as she'd flown out of the courtyard, an intimate touch that startled and discomforted him, and gave her a satisfying feeling of power. Now, as she ate, she watched him, enjoying the sight of him, enjoying the anticipation. Minao watched her as well, warily, keeping his tail coiled tightly around his waist, and the blanket draped over his shoulders, covering his body.
Rillan-ema finished her meal, deliberately setting her empty glass down on the low table. She looked Minao straight in the eye, and smiled lazily. He visibly panicked, instantly dropping his gaze - only to raise it again to glower defiantly at her.
The Qeft reached out telekinetically and twitched the blanket away, leaving him naked to her appreciative gaze. Minao froze, obviously uncomfortable; Rillan-ema *stroked* softly, slowly, down his smooth cheek, spreading her *touch* out as she moved down his neck, separating the energy into several mobile tendrils.
She took her time *exploring* his body, *reaching* behind him to stroke gently through his hair and down his lightly muscled back. Her lips parted as her *fingers* slipped under the base of his tail and down between his buttocks, tickling over the puckered entrance to his body before gently cupping and kneading his scrotum. Rillan-ema's eyes gleamed as she watched the Saiyan struggle to suppress his body's reaction to the stimulation. It was a losing battle, and Minao moaned in distress as his cock thickened and lengthened.
The Qeft was briefly puzzled; why was he fighting? Then her expression hardened – no matter, this wasn't about his enjoyment after all.
Rillan-ema stood up and walked towards him, spreading her wings - the shadow she cast from the setting sun fell over the slave like a dark veil, and he shivered.
"Lie down."
Minao shook his head stubbornly and she *tapped* his ordino without hesitation, absolutely not in the mood for disobedience. The Saiyan's eyes watered and he whimpered, but he didn't move.
"You're going to get hurt." she warned him softly, sighing when he growled at her. Rillan-ema disciplined him again, simultaneously sliding a rapidly thickening tendril of energy through the puckered muscle of his anus, stretching him to the point of pain. Minao yelped and the Qeft took the opportunity to *push* him down to the cold tiles, *pinning* him securely over the length of his body, with his arms beneath him, making his hips cant upwards. She gentled her touch, withdrawing from his body, using the energy instead to stroke his tail, teasing out the tip of it where it was tightly tucked under a loop of itself, carefully but firmly unwinding the long, red appendage from around his waist. Rillan-ema used her hands to stroke and fondle its soft length. Minao's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, his teeth gritted so tightly she fancied she could hear his jaw creaking, but his erection stayed hot and hard.
She straddled the Saiyan, opening the aperture in her groin, then slowly sank onto the length of him. Rillan-ema groaned in delight, angling herself so the Saiyan's shaft would rub against the sensitive area deep inside her.
This was so good, she thought as she rode him. It had been a long time since she'd had sex, and only once without pain. That one time had been magical and it was the memory of how good her husband had made her feel that stopped her from breaking with him completely; always hoping that this time he'd be gentle, this time it wouldn't hurt.
Rillan-ema enjoyed herself, taking her time, teasing herself closer and closer before finally, deliciously climaxing with a small cry. She clutched the Saiyan's tail tightly as she came, her internal muscles clenching and rippling along his penis, pulling him to his own reluctant orgasm.
"Merica!" Minao gasped out as she felt him pulse hotly inside her. She slumped, panting, and let go of his tail. Minao immediately wrapped it tightly around his waist, and turned his head to the side, refusing to look at her.
"What is 'merica'?" Rillan-ema asked when she could speak.
The Saiyan's grey-green eyes snapped fire.
"Your death." he said coldly.
Rillan-ema stared at him then burst out laughing, the sound of her amusement echoing around the courtyard.
"You are a dramatic little thing aren't you?" she tapped his nose affectionately then slid off him, her legs shaking as she stood up. Ayond diffidently approached her mistress, offering to clean away the sticky fluid leaking from the Qeft's body. Rillan-ema smiled at the little slave, and gestured for her to accompany her to bed. Minao, unregarded now, dragged the blanket over himself and curled up into a ball.
*Merica!*
Merica froze in his pacing, unconsciously powering up his ki against the anguish in his mate's *voice*. Someone was fucking Jagung, and his mate had climaxed, hating it, hating himself for not being able to control his body's responses, hating his helpless betrayal of his lover.
"Merica, what is it?" Apyo's concerned voice insinuated through Merica's fog of red rage.
"Jagung - "
"You *felt* him?"
"I fuckin' heard him!" Merica roared.
"That's good," Apyo approached him warily, placing his hands on the Guard's shoulders, forcing his friend to look at him. "Merica, you've got to concentrate! The more you can remember, the easier it'll be to find him."
Merica shuddered and fought down his frantic panic, gulping in great breaths of air as he struggled for calm. There'd been a brief image accompanying Jagung's cry, as if his lover's eyes had flashed open as he came. Apyo was right, he had to concentrate; Merica screwed his eyes shut and examined the image seared into his mind.
A Qeft, dark-skinned, wings spread out; her - he wasn't sure how he knew this, Qefts' bodies were basically featureless - back arched, head thrown back in the unmistakable throes of lust; and - Merica growled: he'd gut the fuckin' baita! - Jagung's slim red tail held securely in her long fingered hands. The Guard was trembling with the need to kill her, kill something, as he related the details to Apyo.
Apyo groaned.
"A Qeft? Ah, shit, this complicates things."
"Why?" Merica ground out, shakily reaching for a beaker of water.
Apyo glared at him.
"Have you been listening to any of the briefings we've had?" Apyo sighed and ran his hand through his brown mane. "The Qeft are the absolute rulers of this system, right?" Merica nodded. "Even the ones that aren't directly involved in governing are like fucking royalty!"
"So?"
"So - " Apyo snapped, "you can't just go in and kill one of them!"
Merica's tail lashed and he wrenched himself away from his friend, resuming his agitated pacing.
"I've got to get him back!"
"I understand, and we will." Apyo reassured him. "Was there anything else you can remember?"
"No!" Merica growled, then stopped, frowning, "Wait - yes. Green sky."
He looked at Apyo helplessly.
"It's a start, Merica." Apyo clapped him on the shoulder, "Let's talk to the commander."
The day dawned crisp and clear. Rillan-ema woke feeling relaxed and happy. She rolled over onto her side and watched Minao wake and uncurl gracefully from his spot on the tiles. How long would it be before he was tame enough to share her bed? He didn't like being cold, maybe the thought of a warm place to sleep would be a good enough incentive for him to behave?
The day whizzed past; Rillan-ema went about her work with a quiet cheerfulness, impatiently anticipating the time she could leave the chambers and head home to Minao.
Finally, finally, she was able to give Yurew her last instructions for the day. She smiled benevolently at her aide then stepped out onto the open balcony outside her office, and launched herself into the air.
Rillan-ema strung out her anticipation over the evening; Minao knew what she planning, it was evident in the defensive hunch of his shoulders and the despair in his beautiful eyes. She couldn't understand his attitude, he'd enjoyed their encounter last night, at least physically. No matter, he wasn't going anywhere and there was plenty of time for him to realise there was no use fighting.
Minao bared his teeth at her when she approached him, but it was only a token resistance, he wasn't going to fight her tonight. The Qeft smiled and gently stroked his cheek, ignoring his flinching away. Then she felt a gust of wind at her back and glanced over her shoulder.
Oh no.
Rillan-ema folded her arms across her chest to stop them trembling, then turned and faced her husband.
Tokkah-rea was a striking example of a Qeft. His smooth, green-blue body was slightly muscled, and his face… Given the unfortunate, politically motivated circumstances of her needing to marry, she could have done a lot worse - or so she'd thought at the time. There were a number of male Qeft who filled the criteria she needed, but none of them were as beautiful, as perfect, as Tokkah-rea. Rillan-ema had been thrilled when he made an offer for her. She'd been a virgin when she married, and that first time with him had been astonishing, giving her a inkling of the pleasures a male and female could share. But then he'd hurt her, and kept on hurting her in inventive, unimaginable ways that never left a mark. Fortunately, as was customary, they maintained separate households, and over the years - to her immense relief - he visited her less and less. Rillan-ema never questioned why, she was too grateful for the respite, and she threw herself into the complicated work that went with the position of co-governor, the position her marriage had allowed her to advance to.
"Wife."
"Husband."
The Qeft greeted each other cordially. Tokkah-rea prowled forward, a predator hunting.
"I'd heard you'd bought a new slave, Rillan."
She nodded, never taking her eyes from his face, and not moving an inch - as if her barring the way to Minao could stop Tokkah from doing whatever he wanted. Tokkah gave her a look of disdain, and to her shame, she dropped her eyes and stood aside from the Saiyan.
"Pretty." Her husband smiled at her condescendingly. "It's been a long time since you've bought anything pretty."
Rillan-ema shuddered; the last time she'd bought a 'pretty thing' her husband had raped and tortured the child to death in front of her - Mitpes's tormented, piteous cries still haunted her sleep years later.
"What do you want, Tokkah?" Rillan-ema tried desperately to still the shudders shaking her body.
"Only what is mine by right." He looked at the Saiyan.
"No!"
Tokkah looked smoothly affronted.
"You'd deny me my rights, wife?"
She stared at him helplessly. The rights of a Qeft husband ensured that he could have or use anything that belonged to his wife, and she couldn't refuse him on penalty of losing her position in the society, even so far as being reduced to slavery herself.
"I cannot deny you your rights - " Rillan-ema whispered, "but I can ask you not to damage my property."
Tokkah frowned; she could ask, but he was under no obligation to agree. He smirked at her.
"What will you give me in exchange for not exercising my full rights?"
Rillan-ema's eyes went wide with horror, knowing deep in her gut what he was going to ask for. Tokkah ran his fingers through the pale purple fuzz on her scalp, partially unsheathing his nails as he did, drawing bloody lines over her skin that would be healed and hidden by her hair the next day.
"In exchange for not permanently damaging your property," he said with relish, "you will perform your wifely duties for me."
Rillan-ema swallowed convulsively, and nodded. Tokkah smirked in satisfaction and released her.
"Wait!" she said as her husband turned to Minao, who had slid as far away from the Qeft as his chain would permit. "Let me - " she swallowed again, " - let me prepare him."
Quickly she wrapped Minao in energy, using a small amount to fetch a bottle of thick, scented oil to her hand.
"Please, Minao, don't fight him," she murmured urgently to the Saiyan, "it will only make him go for longer." Minao's eyes widened in fear as she *opened* him as gently as she could, stroking the oil into his body with her long fingers.
"I'm so sorry." she whispered and stood back from him, dropping the bands of energy holding him still.
Tokkah smirked and reached out with his own energy - a crackling orange glow, compared to her dark red - immobilizing the Saiyan, clamping his mouth shut and unceremoniously dumping him on his front, on his knees with his face hard against the tiles. Minao was struggling, his terror palpable when he felt Tokkah kneel behind him, the Qeft's shaft unfurling from its pouch in his pelvis. The Qeft ran a finger from each hand down Minao's back, opening deep cuts into the muscle on either side of his spine.
Tokkah looked amusedly at Rillan-ema as she was about to protest.
"It's not permanent damage."
And she fell silent again, unable to do anything but watch as her husband forced his massive, ridged organ into the Saiyan's small body. Minao couldn't make a sound beyond a strangled, keening whine, but she could almost feel his agony as Tokkah plunged over and over into him, tearing delicate flesh with each stroke. She whimpered, she couldn't let this happen, not again, not even knowing what the consequences to herself would be. Rillan-ema *tapped* the Saiyan's ordino, hard.
Tokkah snarled as the body in front of him went limp in its *bonds*. He pulled out, letting the unconscious slave drop to the ground, then turned to the frightened female with an evil leer.
"I had no idea you were so eager for my attentions." he said, wrapping her tightly in energy before she could back away from him…
Apyo, Merica and Uzum were in a small, fast craft heading for the fifth planet in the system. Their commander had gladly given them permission - and the authority to commandeer a spacecraft - to go and retrieve Jagung; it was a point of honour - the Elite always looked after their own.
The Qeft kept very detailed records of the Realm's administration, and it hadn't been hard to work out where Jagung was. There were only two planets in the system that had a green sky - the Qeft homeworld, which the Saiya-jin convoy was currently in orbit around, and Elpmar, the fifth planet. As the three Guards sped towards Elpmar, Merica hunted through the images they'd downloaded from the Qeft's central data-base of the avians living on the fifth planet. After narrowing down the description from 'dark-skinned' to 'purple-skinned' it was even simpler to track down Jagung's abuser.
"That's her." Merica had snarled when he spotted the female from his mate's *message* amongst the official, recorded images of the co-governors.
The Saiyans were only an hour away from Elpmar when Merica suddenly doubled over and fell to the floor of the craft, retching. The young guard was oblivious to Apyo's questions and concern, drowning as he was in the flood of agony streaming from his lover.
*Jagung!* he screamed, questing along the new and fragile connection.
*'rica? Oh gods… help me…*
Merica screamed again as Jagung's end of their bond snapped off.
"We're almost there, hang on." Apyo said grimly.
Their commander had ordered them to be discreet, so Uzum landed the craft in the mountains close to the co-governor's residence, and Merica and Apyo flew the rest of the way. Merica scented his mate and headed unerringly in his direction, hunter's eyes able to see well in the dimming light.
"Oh, gods…" Apyo said when they landed in the courtyard. Two bleeding bodies lay sprawled on the cold tiles. Merica streaked to Jagung, picking him up, cradling him in his strong arms and whimpering in relief when his mate's eyes fluttered open. Jagung ghosted a smile.
*I thought I was dreaming…*
*No dream, lover, I'm here.* Merica snapped the metal collar around his mate's neck and flung it away.
Jagung began to shake, clutching his lover's shoulders.
*I thought… I'd never see you again…*
*Baka. You think I'd ever let you go?*
*If you couldn't find me…*
*Never think that. Never fuckin' think that. I will always find you.*
Jagung stared, only just realising what had happened.
*We… we bonded?*
Merica kissed him fiercely.
*No escape now, aijin. You're mine.* He scowled, feeling a hot wetness on his fingers, and pulled his hand from his mate's back, growling at the sight of the blood.
*How bad is it?* Merica began checking his lover for injuries. Jagung winced.
*Hurts. Nothing broken, though.* He looked at Merica in remembered horror. *There's something inside my spine, near my tail - stops me from using ki.*
Apyo meanwhile had checked the other body. It was the female Qeft, and while she was injured, she'd live. He couldn't guarantee how long though, once Merica was done with her.
"Let me tend to her…"
Apyo stared at the obviously terrified little alien female creeping out from the shadows.
"Please?" she pleaded, shaking.
The Saiyan nodded curtly and left the Qeft, heading towards his friends.
The Qeft had come 'round by the time Merica had satisfied himself that Jagung would live. She limped towards the trio, the little female fussing along beside her.
"Ah. More Saiyans."
Merica, still cradling Jagung, snarled and lifted a hand, ready to ki blast the Qeft. Apyo's firm hand on his arm stopped him from firing, but it was his lover's whispered 'don't' that had him powering down in astonishment.
*Why?! After what she did to you?*
*Hate her - but she stopped the other one from doing too much damage. Kill him.*
Merica growled, his tail lashing, as he glared malevolently at the Qeft.
"Discretion, remember?" Apyo reminded him. "Let me handle this." he said, then stood up to face the tall female. "We're taking him with us."
She smiled mirthlessly.
"You have no idea what I went through to save that little treasure from being killed, I'm not just going to give him to you."
Merica snarled at her. "You're not getting a fuckin' choice."
The Qeft's laugh cut short as pain lanced through her. The Saiyans could see and scent the fresh blood flow down her thighs.
"Oh, I think you'll agree to my price." she said, panting against the throbbing ache inside…
Merica sat at his mate's bedside in the troop transport's medical centre - his bonded mate, he reminded himself with something close to dazed wonder - and waited for Jagung to wake up. It had taken a while, but the medics had worked out a way to remove the device implanted in Jagung's spine. They had to remove it - the thing 'jolted' his lover's spinal cord whenever Jagung tried to use his ki - and if Jagung couldn't use ki he was no use as a Guard. The device, while primed for telekinetic touch, was not immune to physical damage, and the medics - keeping Jagung unconscious - had carefully inserted a fine probe into his spine and zapped the thing with some sort of current. Jagung had been monitored constantly while the medics watched the device slowly disintegrate, the pieces being dumped into his bloodstream, eventually being excreted as waste. They'd reassured an anxious Merica that there seemed to be no permanent damage to his mate's nervous system, and he should make a complete recovery.
Not all the damage had been dealt with though – yet. Merica had wanted the Qeft's brand removed, but Jagung, perverse little ama that he could be, had decided he liked the fuckin' thing! Merica was humouring his lover for the moment, but he'd be damned if he'd spend the rest of his life looking at a reminder of his mate's – of his own - pain.
Merica held his lover's hand while he slept, watching his face, breathing with him. The female had been right, the price she'd asked for Jagung's release had been more than agreeable, it had been gloriously, savagely satisfying. Reluctantly leaving Jagung in the Qeft's care – with dire, graphic threats to her life if anything more happened to the injured Guard - Merica and Apyo had flown off in the direction of her husband's residence. Apyo had curbed Merica's impatience, and they'd watched and waited until the male Qeft was asleep on his bed in the open courtyard. There were no guards, and the pitiful creatures he was master to could only watch, wide-eyed and fearful as the two strangers streaked down out of the night sky, dragged the Qeft out of his bed and flew off with him.
The male was strong, very strong, but he was no fighter, and no match for even one enraged Saiyan - and when that Saiyan was being helped by another, equally as formidable, well, the results were inevitable.
No doubt, when his body was found, there would be an investigation; but in the unlikely event they could trace the Qeft's death back to him, Merica knew he'd never regret his actions.
Tearing out the Qeft's tongue had been good, tearing off his wings had been better, but watching him plummet onto an outcrop of jagged rocks, then hovering nearby and listening to his death rattle had been fan-fuckin'-tastic.
He smiled to himself. It was a cruel, cold smile. No one could get away with hurting his Jagung - no one…
© 2002 May 12th Lutra
