The Pet 1-3

UNEDITED REVIEW GALLEY

THE PET Episodes 1, 2 & 3 By Nix Winter

The Pet: Episodes 1, 2 & 3

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The Pet: Episodes 1, 2 and 3 Copyright (c) 2005 by Nix Winter Cover art and design (c) 2005 by Marianne LaCroix All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information, you can find us on the web at, www.VenusPress.com Printed and bound in the United States of America.

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Much appreciation to Mari

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The Pet: Episodes 1, 2 & 3

Episode 1: The Taking of Alix

Chapter One

Kray watched the data flicker across the sphere generating from the data-feed in her glove. This small town in the mountains held at least ten alphas, several betas. Tawn wasn’t looking for any gammas, nothing that wasn’t the best. She wanted an alpha grade pet, grade A. Captain Yarril needed a new pet. This harvest wasn’t for the market, it was personal. His last pet had been part of the crew for nearly fifteen years, a gift to the red headed captain long before he’d taken command of The Raver. That pet had died at the hands of an escaped gamma. It had been six months since then and the crew wanted to harvest their captain a new pet before the tension strangled the entire crew. They’d made good money since the death of his last pet, but the pace couldn’t me maintained. The main harvest wouldn’t happen for another four days, so she had the pick of the planet. Completely wired and camouflaged, she walked the streets of town Twentythree. The people who lived there couldn’t see her, hear her, smell her, or even feel a change in temperature as she passed by. They weren’t aware of the technology that hid her from sight, nor the technology within their own bodies that allowed her track and sort them. Coded information about them scrolled down her tablet, a small screen that she saw just above her left eye. Kray’s comments also appeared on her tablet, holding there until the movement of her eyes acknowledged that she’d read his messages. The people living on Ocean Blue were the property of St. Riven Clan. At their coming of age trip to the temple in the City of the Sun, each being was tested and injected with markers that allowed Tawn and any one else from her crew to track each person. “Find anything interesting,” Kray asked in her ear.

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Her reply was translated back to the ship from tiny movements of her vocal cords so minute, no one she passed near could hear. “What about the dark haired one, with the keyboard?” The locals seemed to be having a music festival. The people of Ocean Blue were all impossibly beautiful, delicate, with a rainbow of colorings. The Temple also saw to the occasional genetic manipulation of coloring, as well as infertility modifications for any specimen that didn’t meet the quality guidelines. St. Riven sold beautiful slaves. The camera lens on her eyes zoomed in on the dark haired male playing keyboard in the center of the group. The man was young, probably twenty cycles, with short black hair, and rebellious, bleached tips. He had violet eyes, high cheekbones and long fingers. “He’s pretty, looks kind of like Prisa.” “No, we need something completely different. Look at the one with the harp behind him, the one with the pale blue hair. Get me his id.” “Bossy bastard,” she teased, moving easily through the singing people sitting around on the marble outdoor auditorium. Temple servants moved through the blissfully ignorant group, handing out small, prettily wrapped packages of cake. The temple and the “gods” took good care of the people on Ocean Blue. In case they sensed her, she avoided the temple servants as she crossed to where the blue haired man played. Even though they wore no clothing, as a symbol of their complete submission and devotion to the gods, they wore special collars. These collars allowed telepathic communication between themselves and the temple, along with the ability to get information on any of the ordinary people. From time to time, the servants helped in a harvest. This wasn’t a normal harvest though, and the one taken for Yarril wouldn’t be listed as inventory on the ship. They were, in a way, poaching on the St. Riven family’s resources. As a gift for their captain, it was okay. As she neared the man that Kray had asked about, his id flashed in her data sphere and brought up the Temple’s data on this specimen. Male, nineteen, and from a high status family who’d been harvested thirty-nine times in the last century. And he was a virgin. There were no sexual restrictions placed on the people of Ocean Blue, so finding a young virgin was exceptional. That bit of information clicked for both Tawn and Kray, and she could just feel him smile. “Take him now?” she asked, pulling a sedative spray from her belt. While it was an honor to be taken by the gods, not every one was ready, or willing to be chosen. She didn’t want any harm to happen to the pretty pet.

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He was pretty, almost girlish, but still male. His eyes were pale blue, like light blue topazes. Long blue hair, braided and dangling behind him, he was everything the St. Riven hoped for in a pet. The unsuspecting man rested his face on the pillar of the harp he played, eyes half closed, fingers playing a complex melody easily. He wore silk pants, a silk quilted vest, lean body, but not exactly muscular. Perfect. “We don’t want him inventoried. Captain would be put out if he had to pay for the gift we’re getting him,” Kray said. “Calculate his worth,” Tawn suggested, watching the man finish his song. “We could get at least 500 sol for him. He’s perfect.” “I bet he’d wiggle and squeal,” Tawn said. “I’ve got 75 sol I could give. Take up donations for the rest. I’m going to harvest him.” “What if the captain doesn’t like him?” Tawn popped the cap on the spray sedative, smirked. “Then, we can add him to inventory.” The cap from the sedative dropped to the ground. The harper’s eyes followed the rolling small blue plastic lid. His lips parted and he swallowed slowly. Tawn watched his eyes flit from one person to another, then look behind him where she stood. She smiled. The best pets always saw it coming. She uncloaked, dropping the illusion hiding her. Silver covered her from head to toe, metallic and shimmering. Static from powering down the illusion made her dance. To the simple people of Ocean Blue she would have seemed like a goddess with silver eyes and breath of gray mist. “This one is claimed in the name of the gods,” she announced formally. The dark haired male knelt. Most of the others hit the ground, foreheads down in abject submission. Her harvest target rose and dove for the edge of the stage. Tawn blinked then, hand still reaching for where his shoulder had been. Pets did not run. He hit his knees, scrambled back to his feet and headed towards the exit of the auditorium. Tawn gave chase, bounding over those with their faces to the ground. The pretty pet made it to the stairs, scrambling up and his hands and feet grabbed ground. Tawn caught his ankle and he rolled, a moccasin clad foot kicking at her. Laughing, she closed her hand around his throat and pinned him to the marble steps, spraying him in the face with the sedative. He went limp, fingers clawing weakly at the hand holding him down.

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As his struggles slowed, she jerked him to his feet. She stood at least six inches taller than him, and he sagged in her arms. “Rise, celebrate. Today you have pleased the gods!” She held him against her, even though the sedation would remain in effect for hours. She reactivated her cloaking, and as far as the harper’s friends were concerned, he’d been taken to be with the gods. They celebrated, while he struggled not to cry. The one man in the village who’d stopped believing in the tales of the gods was now their guest.

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Chapter Two

He’d gone to the ocean once when his class had graduated from formal schooling. The ocean had stretched out to the horizon, and he’d watched it move and dance under the setting sun for hours. Not even heaven could be as large as the ocean, he’d thought. Alix floated in the warm darkness of heaven’s embrace, half in dreams, and half in awareness that he lay naked in a trap with no doors. Stickiness held his eyes closed. The same stickiness held a hard roundness in his mouth, pinning his tongue. As he turned in the warm wet that he floated in, he realized more of the stickiness held something hard and hollow over his nose as well. His feet dangled in fluid, as he searched for solid ground. Long hair, wet and flowing as silk swirled around his naked body, letting him know just exactly how bare he was, smooth and exposed, wrists bound behind him with soft cloth. Wakefulness brought a panic, but when the wrappings his wrists together did not give, even as his fingers wiggled, sought anything so lid in the water world surrounding him. The gods had taken him. He thrashed, crying out into the tubing in his mouth, biting at the unrelenting hardness. *** “Your pet’s waking up,” Kray’s fingers flew over the symbols on his inner-ship communications screen, knowing the message would go directly to the little tablet always just to the left of Tawn’s vision. “He’s prettier awake.” His typed words shimmered with blue, hinted with violet, indicating sexual interest as the communication system picked up the temperature and speed with which his fingers moved over the screen of light. “Don’t touch,” her worlds flicked back across his larger tablet, red and white. Kray didn’t wear a wire the way Tawn did, so he didn’t have the little tablet at the edge of his vision. Finger tips resting lightly against the slight tingle of his tablet, his connection with the ship’s data network, and when he snorted, rolled his eyes, the communication system picked that up and carried it back to her, with little sparkles of faint green 8

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sparkles. He replied, “I’ll get the table ready. Do you know how you want to present him?” Kray tapped on the cylinder that the pet had been transported in. It had been six standard months since he’d been harvested, though not a moment had passed for him. He stilled, his long hair slowly settling in the water around his body, clinging to the curves of shoulder, definition of chest muscle, curve of perfect virgin ass, and around slender, yet sculpted legs. Smiling, the head cylinder tech tapped the transparent surface of the transport chamber and watched the pretty slave within shiver. “That’s right, baby,” Kray purred, knowing the pet couldn’t hear him, “Tonight’s the big night.” “Are you trying to get him all worked up?” Tawn asked, as the door swishing closed behind her. Then she added in excitement, “Captain is going to be so surprised!” It had taken the crew all those six months to pay the cartel for this pet. She walked around the cylinder, fascinated by the lean beauty trapped within. He was perfect. Aesthetically the best their culture could produce, beautiful, uncircumcised penis laying in a cloud of blue curls above well balanced, and smooth balls, she licked her lips and wished. “I’ve got the baker waiting for him. We have about two hours to get him ready.” “Crap,” Kray said, the magnitude of what they were doing sinking in. “We’d better hurry then, hadn’t we?” The worktable was a metal alter really, with every form of restraint and good drainage. A rack hung above it with various hoses with different nozzles and controls. A smaller table to the side held other tools, clippers, piercing tools, tattoo guns, even some tools for branding, as well as the standard shavers. Kray not only managed the several hundred cylinders and the health of their occupants, but usually the initial preparations for delivery as well. The Raver delivered exquisite pets, often trained and with the body modifications that the prospective owner requested. Only rarely did they do a large, scale harvest and deliver in mass to one of the larger planets. Other ships handled the cut and burn harvests. It was just a matter of specialization. “What do you think? He ran when I picked him. I think he’ll be very lively. He’s so pale, I bet he spends the whole night with blush across those pretty cheeks.” She reached to the cylinder, as if she could caress his cheeks. “What god do you think he’d like to serve?” “When I was putting him away,” Kray said, meaning when he was shutting the blue pretty pet down for the suspension until they’d paid for him, “I looked good at his 9

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biochemistry. He wasn’t running from you because of fear. There was adrenaline, but not the out and out terror of a slave that runs from fear. He just didn’t believe anymore, I think. He’s smart, this little pet of our captain’s.” “I wonder what they think, pets,” Tawn said softly, smiling. “He’s a very lucky one.” “Yeah? Let’s see how he likes birthdays.” Kray hit the release and the fluid that the pet had been stored in started to funnel away. He thrashed in the draining fluid, butt cheeks clenching, hair flowing around his penis, which actually started to harden. Genetics at work, the pets responded sexually to stress. His feet finally reached the solid surface of the cylinder, slipping in the clear protein sludge at the bottom, he hit the side of the clear prison and sank to his knees. Tears leaked from under the covers tapped to his eyes, and Tawn wanted to pet him. “He’s got a lovely voice,” she said softly. “I wonder what Captain will name him.” “Don’t crush on the pet you’re giving to someone else,” Kray said, letting the latex snap against his wrist. “He’s too expensive for you or me to so much as lick unless we’re training him. Void, an Alpha rank like him could’ve made a nice gift to the Patriarch or even the Alliance Prime Minister. Couldn’t you see his little ass wiggling for the PM at some state dinner?” “I could see that,” she said, leaning over too look at him. “Dressed in a gold gown, slit all the way up the side, giving glimpses of that sweet little ass. We could have sold him for a lot.” “Too late now!” Kray said, switching on the shower balls. Five small spray nozzles dropped into the drained cylinder, spraying cool water. The pet dodged, slipping as he tried to get to his feet, his belly so tight the line down the center showed, his cock hardening under the cool spray that washed away the last of the sedative in the suspension fluid. His hair clung to him now, hiding swaths of pale skin. “He’s going to get bruised! Damn! Knock it off! Let’s clean him on the table.” “Just trying to wake him up a little,” Kray said, triggering the withdraw of the shower balls. Tawn glared. As the sprays rose back into the ceiling of the cylinder, the mask and dream catchers over his eyes were released and withdrawn as well. Startling emotive blue eyes, so full of confusion and some impossible hope, blinked, trying to focus. It made Tawn smile. His lips were a little flattened by the breathing tube, but that would be

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fixed soon. She remembered them being full, so soft. “Damn! I am crushing on the pet. Get him out of there. I want him on the platter and ready for Captain.” Their eyes meet, blue and artificial silver, recognition flicked between them. He threw himself back, but the cage wall was already lifting away and he went over the other side. It was Tawn’s turn to blink. Pets never resisted when they were brought on board. This one slipped in the protein residue still clinging to his body and even got to his feet before Kray caught a handful of pale blue hair. “Let go of me! Unhand me!” Tawn’s mouth dropped open. “You have been selected by the gods! Kneel!” He spit at her, struggling against Kray’s hold. It took only a moment for Tawn to circle round to him, to press the smaller male up against the former marine, one hardness against his shivering ass and her hand around the hardness betraying him to the front Liberties were hard to avoid, and with him pressed between them, she ran her hand over his betraying hardness, along the firm maleness, fingers brushing over wet curls around it. She leaned close, hand holding him tight, only encouraged by the bright blush across his face. He chewed at his lower lip, staring at his shoulder as she rocked her hips against him. “You are wild and disrespectful, but we know how to take care of your kind. You were created to serve us. Can’t you feel it in your blood? Can’t you feel this desire?” His struggles to free himself only pushed him back against the bulge in Kray’s pants, rocking him over a bit of flesh that would have loved nothing more than thrust into him. “Tawn! You’re so getting me off when we’re done.” “What are you going to do with me? Please! Let me go!” the pet whimpered, still trying to free his cock from her stroking. “I want to go home!” Kray purred against the new pet’s ear, “You are home. You’re going to belong to our captain and he’s going to want you just as badly as I do.” Kray’s hand cupped his smooth ass, squeezing before his fingers moved down between the valley of the cheeks, seeking an untouched entrance. “He’s got a real big cock too, fill your sweet little cave up like you’ve never imagined. You want that don’t you, pet? You want to bring pleasure to the god who cares for your people and family, right?” A finger found the puckered prize, circling around flesh made to be penetrated, rubbing the slick fluid around that entrance, even as the pet rose on the balls of his feet, hips moving to evade Kray’s touch. “No! Don’t!” the pet whimpered. 11

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“Shhhh,” Tawn soothed, holding his shoulders, pressing him down so he had to accept the thumb that pushed into him. “See? Doesn’t it feel good? Just think how nice it feels. Soon you’ll have your legs spread and it’ll be your master’s cock about to enter you.” *** “You’re not gods! You’re just like me!” Alix cried, telling himself that it didn’t feel good, the warm solid thumb moving into him, opening him. “Let me go!” The woman cupped his balls, massaging what he couldn’t defend. “No, no, pet. We’re going to clean you up, fill your ass hole with warm sweet oil, and then put you on the table with your master’s cake.” “Naked,” added the demon who served the gods, wickedly, running his tongue over his ear. “Pets don’t wear clothes. You’ll walk around the ship with that sweet little dong of yours swaying for everyone to see.” “I will not!” Alix snarled, and that was just enough anger to really soften him a little, to motivate him to stamp hard on the man’s combat-booted foot. “I’m not a pet!” “You’re so perfect! Your family is going to get so much status for you. Now try to relax. We’re going to lift you onto the table. Don’t fight, petling.” “My name is Alix! My name is Alix!” Fighting didn’t help him at all as one of them got an arm and the other a leg and boosted him up onto the cold metal table. Very quickly each ankle was restrained into a flexible stirrup, and his arms bound out to the sides. “Your name is Pet,” she said softly, running her thumb over his lips. “You’re very beautiful and you’ll be taken good care of, but you must obey. You must do as you are told. If you don’t, you will be punished, and then you will be trained in ways that will make you not even think about disobeying. You seem so very interesting and adorable, I’d hate to see you mentally wiped clean.” The horror of what was happening began to pull him under. Fresh tears slipped down his cheeks. He wanted to go home! He didn’t wanted to be laying on a table, naked and tied down as strong male hands washed him. Those same fingers had been inside him, plundering him. Even as those hands cleaned him, he struggled, yet he knew it was hopeless. His people had been taken by the gods for as long as anyone could remember, and this was his fate—what he’d been created for. He couldn’t deny that his body found pleasure in this, even pleasure in the restraints that held him. His cock wept passion, tingled and jumped each time either of them touched him, and he blushed in embarrassment when they spread his legs, wiping under his balls,

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between his cheeks. He closed his eyes and imagined the other man’s mouth on his cock, tongue circling, sucking at him. “Touch me! Help me!” “Fuck me!” the man said, pinching one of Alix’s nipples, hard enough to make him yelp. “You’ll get off only if and only when your master wishes. You’ve got hours to spend with this hard on.” The woman finished washing his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp, so soothing and deceptive. He’d missed the adhesives she’d laid over his eyebrows, until she jerked one, then the other, shaping his eyebrows. Very quickly he was moved from the table to another. Now he was positioned on his knees, wrists bound to his ankles, long hair left to dry around his naked body. A wide velvet ribbon was tied around his eyes as a blindfold. Warm tingling cream was smeared around both nipples, then a collar was placed around his throat, connected to a chain. The chains came up from the back of the table, and stretched between the leather cuffs on his ankles. As he resisted them, he quickly found that those were also chained to the edge of the sturdy table. He had no way to move his legs. “The next part is the best, Pet,” Tawn said and he tensed as she leaned close, her hand cupping his balls. “Relax, slow breaths.” “What are you doing?” he asked, panicking once again as the round head of what he suspected was a suppository circled his anus. “Is it going to hurt?” Her breath was warm against his ear. “Not if you relax.” She shoved it into him, deep, pushed it forward, a slow-melting bolus of scented grease. Alix struggled, not able to do more than rock his hips as the large suppository slid into him, widening him, telling him what something larger might feel like. Then it was in and began to melt, slowly from his body heat, letting oil ooze out his pristinely clean ass. And then he thought of something that was pure genius. “I must use the facilities,” he said firmly, his chin up. The man and woman looked at each other, back to him. “You what,” she asked. “I need to relieve myself,” he said, lifting his chin a little more. Not that he actually could have relieved himself with a raging hard-on, but they wouldn’t deny such a request. They couldn’t. The man grimaced, one eyebrow drawing down. “I told you that you can’t spill pearls until your master wants it. You’ll just sit there getting blue balls until he wants to get you off.” Alix blinked. Licked his lips, and tried again. “I am hungry. I need something to eat. If I am to please someone, you don’t want me to faint from hunger.” 13

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The woman burst out laughing. “Pet, you do not need to take a piss or take care of any other body function. That suspension tube you were in took care of all that. I doubt you’ll even be able to eat for a couple of days. It’ll be longer than that before your body resumes other functions. No rest for you, Pet. You’re going just have to wait until you lose your little virgin ass to your master.” Alix clamped his mouth shut, eyes on his knees. These people had no manners. Still laughing, both of them worked to tightened the holding him to the table. A wide velvet ribbon was tied around his eyes for a blindfold. A small velvet pillow touched one knee, then the other. Right after that, he found he couldn’t bring his knees together, and they were too far apart to move apart anymore either. “You’re beautiful, Pet,” the woman promised him, a hand on her belly. “Don’t you feel it? Feel how beautiful you are with your cock standing up so straight.” Something cool slid around his cock then and he whimpered, in fear, irrational terror. “Don’t worry,” she promised. “It’s just a pretty silver cock ring to keep you hard.” Darkness fluttered down over him as a silky cloth settled over him. It was so fast, so hard to believe. Taken by the gods. He shivered under the silk draping him. “Now, to get him to the party before anyone else shows up,” she glowed. “Or he goes off spontaneously. He blew against the silk and it flew up then feathered back against his face. He thought about begging again as the oil started sliding down his leg. He wanted, needed something so badly. He wanted a finger touching that sensitive spot between his cheeks again, yearned to feel something hard push into him. Maybe he was created for this. They weren’t gods and he knew he wasn’t a slave, but he would have begged to have one of their mouths around his cock.

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Chapter Three

“Lieutenant Travers,” a mellow, rich voice said, “Tell me that cake’s not for me.” Alix pulled at his restraints, even though his shoulders already ached. His cock ached deeper, balls tight. He moaned, though he meant not to. He couldn’t see due to the blindfold, but he could smell a cake, chocolate and sugary. He was almost sure that they’d put a cake between his knees. He didn’t understand. Humiliation, embarrassment, and even without the silver ring around his cock, he’d have been just as hard. “What have you done?” That beautiful voice asked and the hair stood up on the back of Alix’s neck. Slightly accented, perfect tenor, he longed to hear that voice, sing. The woman’s words became submissive, and Alix listened with satisfaction to her hesitation, the quiet groan. “Captain! What are you doing here?” “Checking up on you, with good cause, it seems. What’s the story with the pet?” Then he added low, “Tell me, Pet, what are you?” The Captain…the man he was meant to be a gift for. Alix wanted to see him—to see this man with the beautiful voice. “I’m a harper.” “Is that so?” the captain asked. “A harper? You look like a cake decoration to me.” The woman groaned even more. “He’s all natural. It was supposed to be a surprise. We all saved up for him, paid for him properly. He’s high alpha ranked, and well, it was my idea, so if you’re going to get upset, it’s my fault.” Silk brushed over the soles of his feet, up his back, dragging his hair up as his master unwrapped him. Tears had dried to his cheeks, and he lifted his chin proudly. He didn’t care what they called him. He was Alix the Harper and nothing would change that. The silk covering him slipped over the top of his head and cascaded down over his lap, hiding his hard-on, teasing it with such light feather-light friction. He bit his lip to keep himself from crying out at the gentle touch. “Oh damn,” the captain said. Black velvet was still a wall between Alix and his new world. Warm fingers glided smoothly over the velvety head of his cock, circling 15

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easily in the seeping pre-cum. Such gentle fingers, but they were strong, comfortable with taking what they wanted. “He’s beautiful.” “He’s a virgin,” she said, hope overshadowing hesitation, “And so responsive.” “Is that true, Pet? Are you a virgin?” The voice asked, hypnotic as rum, breath warm against his ear, “Are you just waiting for me to take you?” Alix swallowed, heart beating quickly, goose bumps rising on his bare thighs. Those strong fingers ran through his hair, pulling it back from his face. “Take me where? Are you going to take me home?” “I think I just might,” his master said softly against his cheek, moving towards Alix’s untouched lips. Demanding lips nipped at Alix’s soft, full mouth. Smooth and male, scented like cloves and ink, the captain’s lips took possession, demanding response, expecting it, respecting and swallowing the parting of Alix’s lips. A strong tongue, clean and ruthless in its explorations, covering ever angle, ever secret place, Alix responded with a moan, arching up against the chains that held him back. The kiss ended abruptly, leaving him panting, wearing only silk and chains, his cock aching to be touched. “Please,” he begged, confused by his abduction and the sexual passion he felt for this man he hadn’t even seen yet. “Please.” “I fear I may miss my birthday party,” a breathless voice said. “Please, cover him and have him removed to my quarters. Not much longer to wait, my Pet. I will be along shortly to see that your needs are met.” A moment later a warm tongue circled the head of Alix’s cock and he cried out, thrusting within the very small confines of his chains. “Oh Please! I hurt! Please!” “And before you have relief, you will have my seed dripping from within you. Think of that, my pretty virgin.” Tears of frustration, perhaps a little fear, slipped from below the blindfold. It had hurt when the large scented oil bolus had been inserted into him and even now it dripped out, slicking his skin, making him deeply aware of the sensitivity around his unprotected anus. “Gag him until I come for him. His voice, when he’s like this, is only for me,” the captain said, from father away. Alix felt as if he were being abandoned! He didn’t want his master to leave. “Master!” And that was the last word he had said freely. A penis shaped gag was slipped into his mouth and when he tried to expel it, it was only pushed farther in, until the soft gag filled his mouth, pinned his tongue, and then it started vibrating gently. Even as he shook his head, trying to push it out of his mouth, straps were fastened around his head, holding it firmly in place. He moaned, 16

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piteously begging for release, for freedom from the intrusion filling his mouth. But the woman who’d captured him simply pulled the silk over him again, hiding him from the other people who’d purchased him for their captain. Wickedly, her fingers touched his anus, smearing around the melting oil, which she drew up between the crack of his ass. The wetness of it only reminded him that he was so defenseless, heels apart, chained to the table, ass so vulnerable to the cock that would be moving within him soon enough. There were people in the halls, and he heard them commenting on him as he was wheeled towards his master’s room. The oil drying between his cheeks, the silk brushing over his hard-on, the whispers about his erection—Alix was sure he’d die of embarrassment long before he reached relief.

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Chapter Four

Alix was never good at waiting. Being chained to a table helped a lot with the waiting though. It felt like hours for him, even if it was only a few minutes. When the door swished open, he moaned, crying out wordlessly, around the gag holding his tongue. That was greeted with gentle laughter. “Are you eager, pretty one?” It was the same beautiful voice. He whimpered. Every hair stood up, his cock trembled as the silk was pulled away. Warm candlelight filtered under the edge of his blindfold. Shortly after came the crackle of a fire from across the room. A smooth thumb moved over his lips, leaving them tingling. He mewled. No, he wasn’t a slave! He was free. Yet he wanted this man to touch him again. “I understand you spat at Lt. Travers,” his new captor said, no anger, maybe a little amusement lingering there, mellow and sweet. Strong fingers pulled long hair away from his ear before the tip of a tongue moved along the edge of Alix’s earlobe. “I’m going to have to punish you for that, but you do please me. I like your spirit. I like your lips. You taste sweet. Do you understand that you’re not free?” It was a rhetorical question, until those fingers released the straps holding the gag from his mouth. The man’s words had run on, falling like a waterfall of the soul. It gave Alix the impression of a lonely heart, someone reaching out in need. “I’m free. I’m a free man.” And he felt as if he’d been freed for the first time with his voice back. He worked his jaw a little, chasing tension away. “I see.” Gentle warm fingers stroked up his captive penis. “And as a free man, you want this from me?” “Yes,” Alix sobbed, “Yes, please. Please touch me!” “Call me Master,” he said, kisses trailing down Alix’s throat, down the back of his neck, “For I am your master. I can do as I please with you.” “Master, please,” Alix said, wanting to see this man, to kiss him again, and mostly to have those fingers wrap around his aching cock. It mattered little to Alix what this man wished to be called. Changing the name did not change the song. 18

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“This is what we’re going to do, Pet,” Master said before biting Alix’s shoulder, suckling hard enough to make Alix groan. “I’m going to free your body, then I’m going to lift you from the table. You’re going to crawl in the direction I place you in. You will not try to remove the blindfold or look at me. When you are on my bed, you will crawl until I tell you to stop. Then I am going to punish you for disrespecting my lieutenant. You may cry while correction is meted out, but if you move or try to prevent me from taking pleasure from using your pretty body as I wish, then you will have no relief tonight. Do you understand, my slave?” Warm lips moved to Alix’s nipple and began suckling, licking, even as a hand encircled his cock, stroking so very lightly, feather light touches that made Alix cry with need. “Yes, Master!” It was easy to agree. Alix had never had pain inflicted on him before, no spankings nor any other torment. The bonds on his wrists and ankles were released, and the bar holding his knees apart released, but he was too dizzy from excitement and desire to really notice the details, until his master’s strong arms lifted him from the table. He clung to the captain’s soft shirt, reached for his face, caressing smooth cheek, thin lips. Held in those arms as they crossed the room, he knew he was free still, and yet he was home, and that he was where he had always belonged. “Master, why me?” “You were my gift, Pet,” his master said, kneeling, setting Alix’s aching body down on the smooth hard floor. “They chose you for me because I’ve been so sad. I think they may have been right. I think you might help me remember how to be happy again.” “You can come home with me,” Alix said, still a little confused about his situation. “You’ll like my family.” “My lovely Pet,” Master said softly, before kissing his forehead. “Crawl to the bed. You have your punishment coming, and then I will take you and make you mine.” “Take me where, Master?” “I mean that I will penetrate you, Pet,” Master said, a hand moving between slender shivering legs, over his balls, down between his legs to touch the slippery tight asshole. “Here, I will join my body with yours.” “Please Master. Let me just touch you. You touch me. That hole is not big and it hurt when they put the oil lump into me.” “Then it will hurt for you, my lovely Pet, and you may cry when I ride you, but ride you I will. Now, move to the bed. Your punishments will surely hurt you, and hurt worse if you hesitate.”

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So easily, tears flowed again, washing down below the black velvet around his eyes. He crawled though, long light blue hair trailing behind him as he crawled up the carpet covered stairs to the bed. He could hear his master opening drawers, and then the smack of solid surface to his hand. “Master,” he stumbled over words and fears, “Will you hit me?” “I will hit you when I feel like it. You’re mine to punish. Mine to enjoy. You are mine, Pet. Mine to bring pleasure to. Mine to care for. And yes, I am going to hit you now. This is called a spanking and it will hurt. You must not move between blows, or there will be more of them. I won’t repeat myself to you. You won’t know when the blow is coming, but I will tell you that you will get five of them. Now stay where you are.” Alix stopped, long hair trailing well past his bent knees. On his hands and knees, cock throbbing, head hanging between his arms, he realized aloud, “I am free.” The first blow hit his buttocks hard on the left side, a hard slap of a hard round paddle that brought his head up and made him yelp, but he didn’t move, or try to protect himself. “Arch your back for me, Pet. Push that sweet ass up in the air for the next blow.” “Master! Please!” But Alix did as he was told, slender ass lifted high, toes curling as the paddle fell on his other cheek. “Owww! That hurts!” “Yes, Pet, it does, but it makes your ass so pretty and red,” Master said kindly. His fingers felt cool as they traced the circle of spanking heated flesh. “A free Pet. Do you really feel you are free? Lower your head.” Alix lowered his head, ass swaying, as if that would protect it from the next blow that came towards his thighs, but still very much still on his ass. “Yes! I’m a free man!” “And if you could leave now, just walk home,” Master asked, another swat taking the other side of his ass, hard enough to make Alix scream. “No! Please, Master. That hurts!” he gasped, his ass moving back and forth, wiggling in his mind, as if he were doing something, when in fact he held still.”No, I won’t leave yet.” “Oh really? Why not?” “Because you haven’t gotten me off,” Alix panted, “And you haven’t said you’d come with me!” The last blow gained another scream from him, right in the center of his cheeks, hard enough to touch his delicate virgin entrance. “Lift your bottom high now, put your wrists behind your back, Pet.”

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Alix laid his face on the thick down comforter, ass even higher up, more vulnerable, however he couldn’t believe his master would ‘take’ him now, not with his cheeks burning, dancing with little dancing pricks. His wrists crossed behind his back and the captain bound with a soft scarf. “Master?” “Hush, my Pet. Relax. Nothing you can do will prevent what is to come. It must be.” The next blow was open handed, now without the paddle, not as hard, but enough of a surprise to make Alix yip. “Master!” Then his master’s nude thigh brushed against his, and a knee slipped between, pushing his legs apart. “Open for me, Pet, open for your master.” Alix whimpered, truly afraid of this penetration to come, though he had withstood the punishment. Only his master’s strong hand on his hip, holding him in place, kept him from trying to scurry forward. Instinct told him to close his knees, to hide himself, but the captain was there, kneeling so close that Alix could feel the hard warmth of his Master’s passion against his still burning thigh. He whimpered as fingers brushed between the cheeks of his ass. The touch of this man overwhelmed him, drove every other sensation from him. There was only this man, only the power and beauty of him. ”Master! Master! It will hurt!” “Yes, Pet, the first time hurts. As I said, you may cry out if in pain. It is an honorable pain, as you learn how your body must fit to mine. I’m going to release your hip. Don’t move.” The words were gentle, but stern and before Alix knew it both of his Master’s hands were massaging the burning sting from his reddened flesh. “Relax, Pretty. Your body was made for fucking.” “I’m a harper!” Alix protested, not sure why he wasn’t struggling more, or why the finger that slowly pressed into him made him gasp, made his cock ache sharply with need. “Tomorrow I will see that you are given a harp,” his master said, voice so deep, it was nearly a groan. “You’re tight, so tight. You have truly never been ridden before?” “No, Master. Never. I wished only to be touched by the one I would love.” He moaned as a second finger began working its way into him, spreading muscle, opening his body. There was pain, just enough in the stretching to frighten him and then there was that strong hand on his hip, holding him gently as the fingers rotated. He found himself working his way back towards those fingers, towards the sweet feeling. “I will love you,” his master whispered, as if it were the most taboo of secrets. “I will let you love me, if you will.”

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A third finger forced slowly into the tight entrance, and his master had to hold him tighter, an arm all the way around his slender waist, as those three fingers moved in and out of the tight passage. “I don’t want to cry!” “It may help with the pain of the first time,” his master said gently. “It may help you to relax. I’m going to withdraw my fingers now.” “I’m too small! I felt you against my leg,” Alix admitted, “You can’t fit inside me.” He thought of when they’d been washing him, thought of wishing for a mouth on his cock, and that’s what he offered, “I will take you in my mouth instead.” “Not this time, Pet,” his master said, leaning forward, arm holding Alix gently as the head of large cock began to be circled around the tight hole. “Relax!” The head of the captain’s penis pressed forward, pushing against defending muscle, but the fingers that had massaged him, the melted oil, and the hand rubbing his back, helped and soon the head had passed the ring of muscles into the heat within. Alix panted, trying not to cry out, and then his master’s fingers touched his, their hands locking together. Fully joined, master deep inside the slender body of his pet. “Pet, breath, slowly,” he said gently, “I am all the way into you. Does it hurt badly?” “No,” Alix lied, voice a little squeak. The sphincter of muscle burned, but he held onto his master’s fingers, held to the dream of being loved by this man. “Don’t lie, Pet,” his master chided, pulling out just a little, making Alix hiss, but then the silver ring was removed from his cock and replaced by his master’s stroking hand. “You may release in my hand, Pet.” And now it was hard to do! The cock filling him moved, and suddenly didn’t hurt. The muscles instead embraced it. Then the movement brushed something within him and he squealed, toes curling. “Master! Again,” he sang. “You’re adorable!” His master continued moving, stroking without pulling out completely, passing over the virgin prostate, sending bright flashes of pleasure as he stroked the smaller cock in his hand. “My pet!” Alix shook, light headed and floating in his master’s embrace as the cock in him stroked and he thrust into the hand below him, back onto the cock possessing him. As if in a sweet fog he heard his master’s voice, “Cum, spill for me, Pet. Cry my name, say it loud, cry my name, say it, Tristan, say my name,” he urged, words running fast after one and another. “Tristan!” And there was orgasm, hot and sticky, pumping into him and out of him, “Tristan!” 22

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The movement within him continued, fucking hard and deep, and he floated so contently in the strong embrace. Warmth and comfort, sweetness, woke back into soft kisses on his shoulder, strong arms holding him gently. “Tristan?” “Only call me that in here,” that lovely voice said, shaking fingers pulling Alix’s blindfold off. “Outside of our room, I am your master. Do you understand?” “Yes, Tristan,” Alix said, still dazed, still floating in lingering pleasure, not really understanding, even if he thought he did. Blinking against the sudden light he kissed Tristan’s bare chest. His master was as beautiful as his voice, short red hair, fine and cut unevenly so that it clung to his face almost like a wild animal’s might. A fox, perhaps, his master looked like a fox. He was a powerful man, though leaner and taller than Alix would have pictured him, but his master’s body seemed perfect, right, and Alix felt love rise within his soul. He reached to touch his master’s eyes, to trace his fingers along one fiery eyebrow. The shape of his master’s eyes were more almond then he would have expected as well. “You are very beautiful. I grow dizzy from the splendor of your voice.” Tristan laughed, even as his heart opened more, as life returned to him. “Are you a poet then, as well as a harper?” “I try. I will write you poems and songs and sing to you until you are never sad again!” Enthusiasm bubbled out of Alix, lighting his face. Tristan opened his mouth, and words lingered there, until he rolled over on his pet and kissed him, tenderly, the kiss of equals, the kiss of one enslaved to the light and passion in the other. When the kiss broke, he pulled back a little, fingers playing with long blue hair. “And what else do you want to know, Pet?” “Will we do that again soon?” “That and many things. I will take you many ways and I will punish you. Always I will love you. What shall I call you?” “My name is Alix.” “Alix the Harper,” Tristan said, fingering the slender collar around Alix’s throat. “My Alix. Rest for a little while, precious. Then we will eat and I will want to explore you more.” Alix laid his head down on Tristan’s muscular chest, closed his eyes, and pictured his beautiful master, red headed with green eyes, smiling. Tomorrow didn’t matter. Right now, he was free and this was exactly where he wanted to be.

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Episode 2: Shared Treasures

Chapter One

“You’re not afraid of anything, are you?” Tristan asked, arms around his pet. The captain of The Raver was a pale man with wild short scarlet hair and emerald eyes. He leaned back against the railing, feet braced against the wall below the view port with Alix leaning back against him. Alix was smaller; a graceful man built for pleasure and beauty, with long sky-blond hair, the blue length was now braided. Together they leaned against the rail, watched as The Raver burned free of the slide path from the solitude of the observation deck. “That’s not true,” Alix replied. He reached towards the view port, slender fingers tracing the sparkling blue lights, each exploding like tiny fireworks, unique as snowflakes. “This is so beautiful.” They had been en route to Tristan’s home world for two weeks, recalled for the wedding of his older brother, Samuel. It had been a transitional period, where the captain had moved out of his grief and depression, and Alix had learned a great many things about his own body. He hadn't learned much about his master's world or life outside the ship, but his Master had learned much about the spirit of the man he'd taken into his life. Tristan has said one day that Alix had a fire and life in him, making him wonder about the meaning of freedom and slavery, about the deepness of a heart truly opening to another. Happily held close to his master’s body, thin knit pants and loose silk toga top did little to diminish the friction between them. He took pleasure in secretly exploring the power he had over the man behind him. His master was already hard for him, dark uniform pants hardly hiding the hard girth of male passion pressing against Alix’s slender curved backside.

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It wasn’t true, he was afraid of something. He feared losing his master’s affection and respect. “Why are the sparks blue? The ship doesn’t wear away, does it?” “The Raver is a “blue jacket” class ship. There’s a bacteria on the outer skin that syncs with the slide holes. Just like pine cones from some Earth-type worlds that only open in a forest fire, the bacteria only spawn during the burn at the end of the slide. When the sparks are not seen anymore, it means we’ve completed the shift back to normal space.” Alix rotated his hips, teasing the cock behind him, enjoying Tristan’s closeness, taking comfort in his arms. Being far from home and forced to understand a new world, he was a little afraid. His master's world held hints of customs and secrets that eluded Alix. Things like that crow of a woman, Tawn, and her surprise when his master had asked for clothes for him. Alix almost believed she'd expected him to go around naked. He'd like to see her naked, performing in the town square. Their worlds were so different, but he knew for in complete certainty that these were people were not gods. Uncovering such a big lie only left the fear that more lies would come. He trusted Tristan though, believing the man so deeply that sometimes it was just the two of them existed in his mind—two of them in a world more dangerous than Alix had ever dreamed existed. Just the sound of his master’s voice could make his entrance tingle, his belly tighten. He was his master’s slide hole; his master’s ship. “Nothing will change between us? Nothing will darken?” Strong hands turned him around and he searched his master’s eyes, green, gentle eyes, hardly the eyes of an hereditary slaver, or a noble from a world built on selling beautiful genetic-designer slaves. “My Alix,” Tristan whispered, voice low, so genuine, “The tide and the shore cannot exist without each other. They could each be something else, but if they are to be the tide and the shore, they need each other. Some of my people forget this, but you are my tide, and I am nothing without you. You have a strong soul and a bright mind, so do not let other people’s ignorance and foolishness cause you to think less of yourself. Nothing will change between us.” “And you will take me with you to the surface?” Tristan laughed, fingers massaging Alix’s shoulders tenderly. “You aren’t afraid to go to the surface? Not everything there may be pleasant for you. Some of my people...”

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“I do not care about your people,” he admitted. “I care about you, and I wish to see this world you came from.” “You can’t change it, you know,” Tristan said, thumb gliding over his lips. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t tried yet.” He sucked Tristan’s thumb into his mouth, licking, swirling. “I will take you,” Tristan promised, a hand moving to the small of Alix’s back, pulling him close. Pressing Alix against his growing hunger, he continued, “I will take you to the wedding and scandalize everyone. I will take you to the Marinasa and you may buy many musical instruments or anything else you desire. I will take your sweet little ass in my own bed, chain you to it and make you wait for me to return all day! You really inspire me. I shall outrage them all by paying more attention to you than to the court. I shall refuse to share you and the rumors will mill around.” "Your world has strange customs," Alix said, half complaining about things he didn't understand. "We should return to mine." Tristan laughed, rubbing his face against Alix's long soft hair. "And I could grow my hair long and learn to sing? What else have you learned in your naughty readings? Remember not to tell anyone else you have my codes for the library, Alix." “I read of the Riak.” “And what did you think?” Tristan’s hand slipped into Alix’s pants, reaching down to cup a bare ass cheek, holding it tightly as the smaller man squirmed with mock resistance. The Riak was a thousand-year-old tradition, built on the legend of Kiris and Liran. Kiris had been a great lord who had many pets, but loved one most of all. Liran, in turn, had loved his master as the morning loves the sun. When Kiris had been accused of treason against the queen, and found guilty, his pet had run away from the confines of the harem to sneak into the prison where his master was held. It was said that he impersonated his master, meaning to take his lethal whipping without even being able to say his love one more time. The ruse hadn’t been uncovered until the pet had hung from the chains, bleeding his life away. The queen, moved by the sacrifice had accepted the pet’s life in exchange for Kiris, so long as he never returned to the capital city. However, he had stripped his own shirt off, crossed the punishment sands to shield his Liran’s body with his own. When neither could stand, and Kiris clung to the chains to keep himself upright, the queen pardoned him fully, declaring that any man who could love so deeply couldn’t be guilty of treason. They returned to Kiris’ lands and never returned to the capital. They lived in peace and love until the end of their days. 26

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The tradition was for a pet to publicly declare their love for their master by enduring twenty-five slashes in public. If the master returned the love, the master would heal the pet. “I think your people would be proud of you if your pet loved you that much. It is a great honor to one’s master, is it not?” “You honor me best by being yourself, and fluttering like a little bird when I touch you,” Tristan teased lovingly. His hand moved around to cup the hard manhood nestled in the blue curls. “And now that I have you, I think I shall test your courage. Are you a daring pet?” Alix shivered, trying very hard not to thrust into the fingers circling his cock. “I am very daring, Master.” “Yes, you are,” Tristan nearly growled, a visible shiver going through his body, “But I am not going to take you now. Do you like games, Alix?” “I like games.” With a hand resting on his master’s chest, he found it increasingly hard not to move against the hand around his cock, caressing him, torturing him. “I have a very dear friend. His name is Valentine, and I think he will like you as much as I do. Make no mistake, I will never give you away or let another take you from me, but I would like to see you with Valentine. I want him to see my beautiful pet and to share my treasure with me.” “Oh, Master,” Alix whispered, biting his lip, “Do you think your friend will find me attractive?” “Oh yes,” his master replied, “But I want to do more than just share. We will play a game. You’ll be a beautiful young man, a virgin given to the gods, and when you wake, you will be in the maze of my garden. Your part of the game is to escape the maze before we catch you. When we do catch you, you resist, but we will take you to the small play cottage and do as we please with you. If you escape the maze, then you may ask for anything you wish. We will go to the pleasure cottage and service your every wish and pleasure, both of us, for the entire night. Does that sound fun to you?” Alix’s agreement was a smothered ‘um um’ with wide, adoring eyes. “And if you catch me, will you command me to spread my cheeks so your friend may do as he pleases with my virgin entrance? Will you hold me on your lap and spank me? I might cry out as he fills me. I’m sure he’s very large. As I’ll be a virgin offering for the gods, you might have to bind me, or hold me as you take me? I might struggle and resist.” Tristan groaned. “Gods, you’re so splendid. You can cry and fight all you want. But Alix,” Tristan leaned forward, kissing him lightly on the tip of his nose. “If you really want something to stop, you must call out my name. Call out Tristan and we will 27

The Pet: Episodes 1, 2 & 3

stop. We won’t truly hurt you. Valentine is like you, in a way. He is from a place where laws are different. He’s a free man, but he is a genetic alter as well. Do you know the word ‘vampire’?” Both of Alix’s hands flew to his throat. “He is your friend?” “He is my dear friend. He saved my life once, and he won’t harm you. I will allow him to feed from you. While part of the game is to resist and struggle, even to be just a little afraid, I don’t want you to be very afraid. Valentine won’t harm you.” “It will be more exciting for him if I struggle?” “Very,” Tristan said. “I can’t wait to watch. You’re so beautiful.” A slight flutter of bells sounded at Tristan’s collar, and he touched it. “Yarril.” “The royal shuttle is here, already. They’re sounding bloody formal.” “Cheery,” Tristan said, “We’ll be there in a moment, or two. Can you help Alix dress?” “Yes, Captain. You’re taking him with you? To the planet? He’s...” He cut the link with her protests still in the air, as he dragged his pet closer and chewed playfully at the fingers hiding Alix’s throat. “That’s right, a vampire,” Tristan teased, “And he’s got a very big cock for a little beauty like you!” Alix giggled as he struggled to evade the chewing at his throat. “Please don’t hurt me, great vampire. I can be very useful!” Tristan’s nibbling turned into a long lick up Alix’s neck to his check. They kissed, tender and full of a longing. The warmth and soft trembling in his master's kiss spoke of a vulnerability, a fear that Alix didn’t understand. He didn't believe his master could be afraid to go home. Home was always a safe and wonderful place to Alix. When the kiss broke, Alix touched his cheek and smiled with all the great innocence and faith of an unbelieving harper. He had no reverence for their religion, hadn't even before he'd been taken, but he had his belief in his music, his art, and he trusted his heart. “I will go with you. Everything will be alright.” “You are amazing!” Tristan held him very close, then he shifted Alix up on to his shoulder. Alix kicked and wiggled, and got a rather solid slap to his perfect little ass. “And I wouldn’t think of going any where without you.”

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Chapter Two

Alix had thought everyone on The Raver was rather stiff. At home, his idea of dressing fancy was to add a string of beads to his tunic. Standing in the cleaning room, surrounded by white tile and silver restraint bars, he crossed his arms over a bare chest and glared. “No.” “Come on. You wanted to go,” Tawn complained. She probably wished fervently for a moment, that he would lose favor just long enough for her to really discipline him. “Why do I have to wear that?” By that, he meant an outfit that looked more like a cat toy than something a man might wear. He’d be wearing a gown of rainbow silk, thin and almost sheer, with a yoke of black, set with what he assumed was with Master’s family sigil. On the hanger there was a silver collar, and over that, a cloak of silk ribbons that fluttered at the slightest movement. He refused to look like a cat toy. “Because that is the formal gown for your station. You should be grateful you're not going planet side with your pink ass showing," she said, forcing a smile. “Look. You don’t have a choice. He wears what he must. You wear what you must. He is third cousin from Her Majesty, and if either of you were dressed improperly, it could cause the family a great deal of embarrassment. Can you understand that?” “I don’t suppose it matters what I wear,” he said, trying to find some kind of logical argument against the silly costume as he fiddled with his fingers. “Clothes don’t change who I am.” He smiled. Smiles were always helpful. “Maybe I could wear a darker gown overtop, and then no one will notice me.” “No,” Tawn said. “It matters what you wear, and everyone in the royal court will want to have a look at you. They’ll be begging Captain to let you play with their pets.” He paled. She sighed. “Look, Captain adores you. He wouldn’t let any body ream you in the hall.” “Or anywhere else,” Alix said, finding her ideas way too silly. It was his own choice who he slept with or got taken by. No one could truly enslave someone else. He 29

The Pet: Episodes 1, 2 & 3

pitied her a little because she didn’t know such a thing. They might think they were gods, but these people seemed a little too confined in their thoughts. “Right,” she agreed, her jaw so tight he could almost hear her teeth grinding. Reluctantly, Alix cooperated and quickly showered. His hair was dried and left loose, falling to the middle of his back like blue sky made from living silk. A calmness hardly masked the frustration in her next words. “Hold the railing, Pet.” “Don’t call me that,” he said, though he took hold of the railing in the shower as she’d instructed, warm, wet metal under his hands. There were so many things he didn’t know about his Master’s culture. “My name is Alix,” he said stubbornly “In public, especially on planet, your name is Pet. If someone addresses you formally, it’s Pet of Yarril ni Firan. You don’t have a name. Hold tight, now.” Her fingers trailed down his back, forewarning, then between his tensing cheeks, gliding even as his hips instinctively moved to shake her off. “What are you doing?” Cold and round, the bolus of scented lubricant pressed against his rosy, tight anus. “Why?” “Just part of the outfit. Relax. This one’s bigger than normal.” She pushed her arm around his waist to hold him as she shoved the lubricant into him. It slipped through the ring of muscle, expanding it, and his muscles tried to clamp down, resisting this treatment She pulled it back out a little, turned it, and smiled as he looked back over his shoulder at her. When he tried not to moan, she rammed it in past the larger bulge at the base. He blushed furiously, as her fingers smoothed a little melted lube around the opening, soothing offended flesh and muscle. He never liked this, having this woman so casually use his private place, but the bolus pushed in, greasing him on the way, brushing by that spot in him that made his eyes cross. She shoved it in deep, her finger actually entering him, fondling soft warm skin in a way that made him wiggle even more. He glared. She winked. At least, he wasn’t as shy around Tawn as he had been. In fact, their relationship was getting to be a bit of a game. Even though she annoyed him, her love of the captain redeemed her in his eyes. “What kind of place does Master come from?” “The only thing you need to know is that you should follow Captain Yarril quietly. Keep your eyes down. You’re still so raw. I don’t know why he’s taking you. At least he’s not so damn depressed all the time,” she said, caressing his hair with a kindness that didn't seem out of place to him. She turned from him abruptly and reached for the next part of his attire. "Here, put these stockings on.” 30

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Alix sat on the white porcelain bench, trying not to force the suppository deeper into his body. He pulled the white silk stockings up. “Do you have a pet?” he asked out of curiosity. “Why do you ask so many questions?” She turned her back to him and picked up the collar. “Don’t try to remove this. It will shock you, and knock you on your ass. While you’re in public with the captain, or by yourself, it’s for your protection. Crimes against your person would be counted as crimes against the Yarril House. And for slide’s sake, don’t take anything anyone says or does personally. Things aren’t the same down there as they are here. Captain adores you. Just walk behind him, keep your eyes down and you’ll get through the palace onto the private transport. Everything will be fine.” She clicked the collar around his throat and pulled the laser, etched crest to the front. “Where are the leggings, underwear?” he asked, growing more concerned about not embarrassing his master. “Don’t get any. Arms up.” He complied and quickly found himself swirling in colorful silk. He felt like a play toy, but the silk sliding across his bare ass, across his rebelliously hardening cock, bare legs. In the right light his lean body would be silhouetted, on display felt so erotic that he was soon more than half hard. She put the colorful ribbon-cloak over him and arranged his hair. “Alix, listen to me. You’re smarter than most pets, as well as beautiful. I’m glad I chose you for the captain, but be careful down there. The palace is a pit of snakes.” “Follow, eyes down, yes,” he said, trying to find something unexciting to think about, to lower the raging hard-on that the silk barely hid. All that came to him was his master’s voice, low and rumbling his name. Gods, he was going to go into the palace obviously hot for his master. “And this?” He gestured at the rise in the silk. The sleeves were too long, covering his hands, ribbons of silk fluttering around him as he moved. “That’s a great honor to your master, try to keep it up.” And he did, even though he knew he’d be begging piteously for his master’s use soon enough. Tristan wore a similar outfit, dark black silk, opaque, not revealing, and it flowed around his powerful body as he walked towards his pet. A lace of golden chains held down the yoke of his gown. The over-cloak was the same, but made of black and gold embroidered ribbons. His dark hair was tamed with a circlet of golden leaves. Very fine golden chains swung from the circlet, triangular shaped diamonds glittering from the ends. He looked like a god, a master of the night and magic.

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As he moved to drop to one knee, Tristan’s black-gloved hands caught his elbows. “Do you wish to stay here? You don’t have to go to the surface with me, if you do not wish to.” Moonlight color highlighted his master’s eyelids, and a gloss made his soft lips shine. It was the gentle smile that lifted those lips that melted Alix’s heart. “I will follow you anywhere.” “Do not speak again until I tell you that you may. Do not lift your eyes from the floor. If you do, I will punish you ruthlessly. We each have our roles for the next few minutes.” Alix lowered his eyes, and he never saw the caress coming. Tristan’s fingers, intimate even through the leather of the gloves, caressed his face, and then they were gone. Tawn gave him a shove from behind, and he hurried to catch up to his master, staying just close enough to be able to see the flow of black silk. He’d never been in this part of the ship, down broad curving stairs and through a great broad door that slid shut with the sound of rushing water, like the crash of a waterfall. Alix almost turned to examine it, but remembered he wasn’t supposed to look up. There were other black robes, other rainbow colored robes around him, and he quickly found himself lost in a swirling room of silk. The floor shuddered and he assumed that they were on a smaller ship, and it had disengaged from The Raver. Strong fingers, harshly grabbed his collar, pressed the crest and a line, fine as spider silk, stretched out, creating an unbreakable leash. Alix soon found it was strong enough to guide him after his master. Another rainbow swirl of silk moved up next to him, a female, whose fingers sought out his. He gave hers a quick squeeze, then drew his hands up into his sleeves, hiding his hands by making each sleeve like a muff. When his master spoke, the words were lyrical and exotic in a language that Alix had never heard. It was ominous, as if he were truly among gods now. Music, slow and languid seemed to rise from the very floor itself, notes drawn out on stringed and wind instruments that Alix had never heard. He took a step closer to his master, needing to hear the familiar sound of his voice, even if it were in another language. The girl next to him cried out, and he could see her very well, golden blond curls spread out around her on the floor. When she lifted her head, blood trickled from a busted lip. She wore her own collar with a black leash, similar to his. It was tugged and she crawled towards the black silk of her master.

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Hatred and fear mingled in the atmosphere. This was unlike anything a simple harper could imagine. Through the tenuous line connecting him to his master, he felt his master’s apprehension, the danger around them both. That line was jerked and he moved forward, a natural grace until he was near his master, who laid a hand on his shoulder, pressing down. Alix knelt. Strange fingers touched his hair, fingering the soft blue silk. Comments were given in that exotic language and he blushed. This brought laughter and a finger that slipped from his hair to his cheek. Then his master’s hand was there, between the invading touch and himself. So very vulnerable, he was completely unready when the floor fell away as the ship shifted, pulling out of The Raver's grav-aura. He grabbed for the hem of his master’s robe, his whimper of fear muted through pressed lips. He floated up, even though his master was unaffected, tall and powerful as the shuttle seemed to roll. His stomach spun and he lost what composure he had. As his fingers brushed over his master’s firm arms, a sense of security echoed back to him through their strength. The pet gown flared around him, but his fear retreated. His master would protect him. His master wouldn’t let him come to harm. Tristan’s hands guided him, turned him, and pulled him close. Another pet, a male perhaps, was being shoved back and forth between two masters as he cried and clawed for something solid to hold on to. Alix worked his fingers in between Tristan’s holding tight, letting him know that he wasn’t afraid, not now. Other pets yipped, screamed, and there was laughter, and punishments erupting around cabin. These weren’t gods. They were demons. Tristan caressed his face, comfortingly. A scent of strawberries came to him from his master’s hand, sweet and fresh. His favorite, and before he knew it, sleep had claimed him, removing him mentally from the royal family’s shuttle.

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Chapter Three

He woke, slowly, stretching and yawning as if he’d never slept so well. The air around him was warm, fresh as only planet-side air can be, moving slightly over nearly bare skin. Above him the sky was a starscape like he’d never imagined at home. So many stars! A swirling smear of sparkling lights half haloed the large bluish moon. Then it hit him, deeply into his soul. He was very far from home. This was not heaven above his world. This was so far from home, he didn’t know which star he belonged to, or if it could even be seen from here. His hands clawed lightly at the soft velvet pillow he’d woken on. He tried to figure out how long it had been since his clan had his ”ascension” party, or if his sister lit incense for him so that he would not forget her now that he was with the gods. He wondered if she ever thought about his doubts about the gods. He remembered seeing the world below the shuttle, the blue and white world through a transparent floor, and he thought they were like gods. Only gods could fly above a whole world like that. Only gods could hold a world in their control as they seemed to. Tristan was nothing like those others. Alix shivered, thinking of his master. Had they begun their game? Rising from the pillow, a breeze moved across his skin, lifting the thigh length silk toga he wore, and it surprised him completely. Quickly he reached down to touch his legs, which were now smooth, and he had this unsettling feeling that he was smooth all the way up. Fingers under his arms, he was smooth even there, and it made him feel naked, more than even Tawn could make him feel. Cautiously, he turned in a circle, looking at the foliage around him. Too tall to see over, too unfamiliar to want to climb, he was surrounded by walls of deep green shrub, lit only by the slightly blue light of this world’s moon. There were four paths leading in what he assumed would be the map directions within the maze. It was their game, and he felt his excitement rise as he thought about when his master had told him about what they’d play. 34

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He was a virgin offering to the gods, and one of the gods was his beautiful fire haired master. Even the recalled sound of his master’s voice was enough to restore him to hardness. None of those other people mattered. Only his master. He shivered, smiling, plotting what he’d have his master do if he won. He’d have his master’s kisses, long and slow, as the other man rubbed his back. He’d have his master fucking him tenderly as the other man sucked on him, drawing it out so that it took a very long time to reach his peak. It was just a maze. He could find his way out of a maze! Alix picked what felt like south to him, and ran from the center of the maze, his bare feet touching lightly over the soft grass. He paused at a T-section, looking one way, then the other, and seeing nothing except darkness. Then he felt the first touch. Cool, smooth, hard, slipping through his hair to glide along the back of his neck. “Hello, Innocence,” a voice, beautiful in a completely different way than his master’s said. “Your master has been delayed, but not to fear. He sent me to look after you.” This voice played his soul like the deepest notes on a harp, slow and resonating, making him stand there, frozen, trembling. “Are you Valentine?” “I am,” the voice agreed, though Alix couldn’t see anyone, even though he could feel cool silken lips brushing his one bare shoulder. “You’re very responsive aren’t you? Are you hard already?” Alix jumped, spinning around, hands up as if he could ward the vampire off, but there was no one there. “I think we should wait for my master.” “If you find your way out of the maze in under fifteen minutes, we’ll do anything you like,” the voice soothed, coming from nowhere in particular, but from everywhere, and it was so sweet and seductive that Alix couldn’t stop shivering. He wanted to be touched by the person who owned that voice, and yet, he didn’t. It was as though he suddenly knew exactly how a moth yearned for an evening torch. Voices, sound, song, it was a dangerous siren call for him. Time wasn’t something he’d ever really considered, not in relation to anything other than music. Fifteen minutes was very short. He’d be in control if he found his way free. So he ran to the left. “Are you afraid,” the voice asked him, “Really afraid?” Alix, heart beating wildly, pressed himself against the end of the edge. It was darker somehow, as if the moon could no longer see them, the stars had covered their eyes. “I’m not afraid of you!”

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He sensed the pressure against his body, cool and firm, though he couldn’t see anyone there. He backed into the hedge as those so very smooth lips glided across his cheek. “You’re not? Are you longing for me to molest you then?” An invisible knee pressed between his knees, separating his legs. “Where is my master?” “It seems he was called to the palace. His cousin wished a word with him. Tristan has been such a naughty boy.” “He hasn’t done anything wrong.” Alix put his hands where a chest should be and shoved, only to have his hands caught and pulled over his head. “Tristan!” Immediately the hands released him and a man became visible. Blond, green eyes, polished and a little stiff looking, the man bowed. He gestured elegantly with his long graceful fingers, without meaning to Alix. “I am Valentine St. Grenis. I have not caused you pain, have I?” “No,” Alix said, studying the man, finding the clothing odd, a high white color, stiff with the tips turned down, a pale linen jacket and neatly creased pants. The man wore a jade ring on his right middle finger, and when Alix noted that the ring matched the man’s eyes, he realized the moon was back. “When will my master be here? He’s not in any trouble, is he?” The very slight movement of one blond eyebrow echoed surprise. “And if he were? What would you do?” “I would go and find a way to help him.” Laughter, light and fluttering, out of place and menacing, came from the man. “You don’t know where you are, or what you are, and perhaps that is for the best. Do you love your master very much?” “Yes. He said you would come, that the three of us would play together.” “Would that disturb you? Did he tell you what I am?” “He said you were a vampire,” Alix said, moving away from the hedge, as it was poking him in the back through the thin silk toga. “When will he be here?” “I don’t know,” Valentine said, then suggesting, “Within the hour.” There was the slightest hesitation in his words and Alix noted it, wondering why the vampire would hide something, unless his master might truly be in trouble. Valentine took a step back, moving his hands slowly apart, palms up, in a nonthreatening universal gesture. “We can wait until he arrives? Do you wish to go into the cottage where it is warmer and there is something to drink?” “I’m sorry if you’re disappointed,” Alix said, lifting his chin.

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When Valentine smiled, the enlarged canines were visible. “Not at all, my dear. Loyalty is a rare honor. Tristan is a very lucky man.” “When Master is here, I’ll be happy to play with you,” Alix said, not so frightened of the vampire now. “My master said that you and I were similar.” “Indeed,” Valentine said, offering his arm, then reaching out and catching Alix’s hand and pulling it into the crook of his arm. “There. Now let us return to the cottage. I need something to drink and I doubt you’d enjoy me drinking you at this time.” the man said, tilting his head politely as he smiled, giving Alix just another moment to gather himself. “To answer your question, yes, we are both designed life forms. That does not make us any less, nor any more than any other sentient life form.” And then Tristan was there, wearing just black pants and boots, handprints in blue on his bare chest, as if he were some primitive man. “But what if I were to enjoy watching you drink my Alix?” “Master!” Tristan opened his arms as Alix ran to him. Held to his master, feet dangling in the air, he felt Valentine’s cool fingers slip under the short toga and glide over the curve of his bare, smooth ass, down his leg, and sliding into the melting oil from the bolus. Alix tried to ignore the rising of heat in his cock. “Master! I’m so happy to see you!” Then the vampire’s fingers, perhaps unused to being ignored, moved up between his cheeks, prying at secret places. Alix wiggled then, thin hips trying to evade the unavoidable finger that circled over his secret entrance. “And I am happy to see you too, Alix dear. Valentine, did you get a chance to chase my pet?” “Alas, he called the safe word, but I think he was more concerned for your absence than for the comfort of his sweet little ass. We should take him together. Do you think he’d stretch that much?” Valentine reached between Alix’s legs and took hold of his balls, massaging them. “We shall have to see. It is a pet’s duty to accept whatever his master wishes to put into him. Is it not, my dear?” “Yes, master, but both of your cocks? At one time?” The thought hardened him even more, making him bite his lip for a moment. “I might have to be restrained because it might hurt a great deal. You’re both very large!” “You’re so beautiful,” Valentine whispered, nipping Alix’s ear. “And now, my dear, are you ready to play? Do you want to run from the lustful gods who would deflower you? Or do you just want to be taken into the cottage and forced into servicing the two most beautiful men on this squalid little rock?” 37

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“I’d like to run, Master.” He kicked back at the blond holding his genitals, hips rocking against his master, hard-on to hard-on. “I’m going to be the best virgin sacrifice you’ve ever had. Tearful and resistive.” “I told you he was marvelous!” Tristan said to Valentine before putting Alix back on his feet. Valentine slapped his ass lightly. “He is delightful. You must never take him to court. Someone would demand him as tribute. Now, Beautiful, run before I can no longer hold my hunger and must have a taste of you!” Alix ran, determined to give a good chase. Tristan held out a hand to Valentine who took it and let himself be pulled close. Their kiss was one of familiar lovers, hungry, but nonjudgmental. When the kiss broke, Valentine’s lips were red, the slightest dark stain on his teeth. Tristan touched his lip, and then licked blood from his fingertip. “You are hungry, are you not?” “He’s very exciting,” Valentine half apologized. “Then go get him,” Tristan urged. Valentine disappeared, a blink and he was gone, the mind wondering if he’d been there at all. Tristan knew this maze though, knew the way that a first time visitor was likely to run. Alix didn’t know the maze, but he could feel the cool attention of the vampire on him, stalking him and he ran faster, wanting to give them as much trouble as possible. Running, sweat dampened the silk. He was a harper, not an athlete. The moonlight disappeared again, suddenly, and he knew he was in the crosshairs of the vampire. He couldn’t help looking back over his shoulder. Fear has a sharp scent to it, and he could feel the vampire stalking him, sensed the vampire’s thoughts, as if they were somehow joined–prey and predator. Part of him wanted to cry out to his master, to refuse to be touched by this blond demon, but now that he knew his master was here, he trusted him to keep him safe. “Are you afraid now, ” the vampire whispered against his ear, or in his thoughts, Alix wasn’t sure. He smelled something, and, somehow, he knew it was his own blood, sweet and sharp. He screamed, spinning to run backwards. “Leave me alone!” He screamed, meaning it. “Why?” The silken voice asked, an edge to it calling forth every survival instinct. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to now.” Alix slapped at hands caressing down his arms, then found himself pulled into an embrace, chilled fingers gliding up his throat to take hold of his cheek. Even as a single

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very strong arm tightened around his body, Alix was pinned to the hard body of the vampire. “Please! Please let me go,” Alix cried, bare feet kicking at the legs behind him, doing little more than brushing over fine linen trousers. He played the game they’d preordained, knowing he could stop it, or they could. However, he enjoyed it, crying, real tears running down his face, the strange and hardening cock at his ass. “Please don’t hurt me!” “You are our gift, our new little slave! Tell me slave. Are you a virgin?” Valentine whispered, strong fingers holding Alix’s chin to the side, exposing a pale throat. “I so hope mine is the first cock to stretch your little ring!” “Please, Sir! It’s a mistake! It wasn’t supposed to be me. I am a virgin!” Tristan joined them, his hand sliding around both of them to slip under the silk toga to rub Alix’s belly. His fingers slid over the very sensitive and recently shaved pubic area. “Then what are you saving it for, slave? You will service both our cocks and learn to like it.” “Let him cry,” Valentine said, slightly warm tongue licking up from Alix’s shoulder to his ear. “A sweet innocent like this one should cry as he’s taken.” Cool hard teeth followed the path of Valentine’s tongue, growing as they moved. “Is it going to hurt? Will it hurt when you bite me? Dahhhhhhh!” Tristan’s fingers slid down to take hold of Alix’s hardness, his other hand reaching for Alix’s hand. “You are an offering. If it hurts, you may scream as loud as you like,” Tristan said, but his hand comforted Alix. He could feel the trembling hunger in the vampire’s lips. He tensed as the hard teeth pressed into him and he did cry out, fingers holding tight to his master, but then something else flared. Pleasure lifted him, and he tilted his head back. Valentine suckled, pulling his very life from him and all he could do was moan in pleasure. His master’s lips touched his, nursing at his lips, tongue caressing his tongue, mouth, swallowing his moans. Held between them, his master’s kiss and his master’s friend’s ‘kiss’, Alix cried, his hips moving against his master, whose hand was suddenly around his him, stroking, encouraging. And he spilled his pearls, sent them in a warm stream down his master’s leg. Each time he thrust, his master held him tighter and Valentine sucked harder. He sobbed between them, rolling in passion and the slightest hint of pain and fear. The pleasure turned to a dark blue light enclosing him as if it could wrap the exotic moon's light around him—like a midnight that would never darken. He relaxed, body limp as the moon’s tears. His master scooped him up in gentle arms. “Master? Am I killed?” 39

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“Shhhh, my love. You are fine. We just hadn’t expected you to enjoy that so deeply. When you wake, there will be time for more.” Cool fingers brushed his hair, caressed his forehead. “You are so beautiful, so sweet.” “Bite me again soon,” Alix said, holding close to his master, eyes slipping closed. Distantly he heard their laughter, their conversation, so friendly. Tomorrow, he’d make it up to them tomorrow, but for now he was safe in his master’s arms.

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Episode 3: Deep Sharing

Chapter One

Her Majesty arrived late. She paused at the top of the stairs, one white, gloved hand rising to prevent the Speaker from announcing her. Twenty steps below, a line of dancers moved through the climax of an octet, a complicated eight step dance. Dancers pressed to each other as the music rose and held the moment. Tradition lined them with one side's back to the mountains. The others were towards to the great river. Mountainside dancers reached around the waists of their partners, pulling them close. The music clashed and rained down in tinkling percussion, bells and chimes as the riverside dancers leaned, backs arching, arms stretched out, and the mountainside dancers pivoted them both. Perfectly in time with the other dancers, entire lines moved like a great clock. Her Court, her precious courtiers, froze in that pose as the music reached its highest crescendo. The music seemed to pause time in that moment, glittering as if the entire court were no more than a snow globe held in her silk-gloved hand. She caressed the air, as if she alone controlled the music, though in truth it was simply that she knew the song so well. The dance continued, swirling in a myriad of color and texture, jewel tones with a million shades, silks brushing against each other, velvets, and the beautiful living breath of the persons within the finery. These were her favorites. They were the ones who understood that she meant only to protect them from the Furies without their systems. To her came the reports, clandestine and shifting, through sources her father would never have touched. Those disloyal to her did not understand. There were things, which her subjects shouldn’t know, and she couldn’t tell even those closest to her. The peril outside their systems was unlike anything from even the mythologies they'd created for their pets. As the war between two races neared their system, as stars 41

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winked out and entire populations were shredded by their enemies, and she would shield her own people through whatever means she found. If those means liquidated their outlaying assets, returning organic to organic, and aligned her with the sun-killers, so be it. Some of her subjects understood and bent to her will, carrying on the dance of their culture as it was meant to be. The man at her elbow could learn from them, she thought, pulling ever so very slightly away from him. He stood a head taller than her, and he wore the black military uniform of the Commander of Her Majesty’s military. For her, she would always see him as the boy she’d fallen in love with when neither of them had meant to spend their lives at Court. He was Lyris Na Maniss, second in line to the throne through a twist of genealogy, though he was the only person to be near enough to her heart to cause her pause in what she believed to be true. His fingers tightened on her elbow, warm through the thin satin of her gown. She gave in and smiled at him. His smile was broad, a conquering general and the wild dark haired boy he’d been all at the same time. Her stomach fluttered as their eyes locked. His eyes were the deepest blue, but held flecks like pale-gray diamonds, then right there, in front of her whole court, she understood that she would love him no matter how they disagreed—no matter what would come of the war, of the end of their world, no matter that the sun itself should find itself exterminated by the demons from other systems. She reached to his cheek, white satin covered fingertips caressing down to his smile. She melted to him as he pulled her closer, an arm around her back, head leaning towards hers. As their lips met, scandal among her father’s lingering court sizzled around the edges of the ball, and that only drove Yraine forward. She shivered in the kiss, wishing she was just a soldier in his army, or they were both just soldiers. They wouldn’t have to make decisions that affected the world, or fight over those decisions when they disagreed. Her court, the dancers, those that understood her, cheered them on and when their kiss broke, she was flush, her cheeks burning. The Speaker stepped forward, lifted both hands with a flourish. “Her Majesty, Queen of the Life,” he said, voice filling the ballroom, magnified by thousands of ‘firefly’ relay stations floating in the ball room like little glowing spies. “His Magnificence, Lord Maniss, Commander of the Imperial Military.” They descended the stairs, his hand on her elbow again. He would have them send scouts to know more about the mysterious army laying ravage to other systems, to prepare for war and defense. She would have them throw up the cloaks, leave the other systems to defend themselves and simply wait out the war raging in other systems. 42

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Her trusted courtiers swarmed them, and the dance began again, graceful and beautiful. They believed they were the most civilized and evolved of human cultures. If their queen wished to liquidate the outlying pet farms and hide them all, what did they care? War could never touch them. Unpleasantness could never touch Her Majesty’s Court.

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Chapter Two

Valentine held the door for Tristan, who turned sideways and carried a sleeping Alix into the cottage. "I commanded that he be shaved, while he slept after we came down. Shall we unwrap my precious pet together?” “First,” Valentine said, fingers sliding into Tristan’s hair, holding him still and turning his head so he could search Tristan's eyes. Their eyes locked, frustrations, fears, questions, and Valentine gave in, his lips moving to brush against Tristan’s warmer lips, forgiving the reckless royal before he even knew the full extent of the damage done with that recent trip to court. Tristan responded, needing that forgiveness deeply. Powerful lips, strong and unrelenting, tore into each other, whispering secret things that couldn’t truly ever be said. When the kiss released, Tristan shuddered, holding his slender beautiful Alix close as if that could prevent all the future. “It’s not as bad as I thought.” “And how can that be, Tristan? Will there be war, or not?” Valentine let one hand caress Alix’s lazy curls, then down to a slender bitten throat. What Tristan loved, Valentine would love as well. “The war is far from our system and Her Majesty believes it will pass us by. She is more concerned with the succession and I assured her that I do not covet political power. I am happy with my ship and my estate. You should come with us, when we leave.” “It is bad, then,” Valentine said, crossing to turn the old-fashioned oil lamp on. Everything about the cottage was aimed at making it a magical get-away, far distant from court and modern life. “Isn’t it?” “Not today it’s not,” Tristan said, grinning broadly as he laid Alix down on a table. He traced a finger over Alix’s hip, then to the inside of his thigh, smearing sweet scented oil along the smooth firm thigh. “Let’s be satyrs tonight. He likes to play a virgin. I’ve never imagined a lover so turned on and crying at the same time, and able to be in my arms, genuinely concerned that I was worried about hurting him. He’s so very spontaneous and real.” 44

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Valentine shrugged out of his coat, scratched at a bit of bright red blood on the lapel before tossing it over the back of a straight-back wooden chair, one cuff dropping into hole in the center of the seat. Graceful fingers unbuttoned the starched old-fashioned shirt, flying rapidly down the front and then to the cuffs. He moved faster than a human should, comfortable in Tristan’s presence. “As loathe as I am to say this, Tristan, he’s not your lover. He’s a pet, a beautiful sex toy with a limited response pattern. Isn’t that what your people specialize in? Beautiful, organic toys? He’s just a creation. Or are you telling me he’s more?” “He’s more,” Tristan said, pulling the knot open, then letting the silken toga top pool at Alix’s waist. “As you get to know him, you’ll understand.” “Then you will make sure he is free?” Valentine’s shirt joined his coat and he pinched one of Alix’s nipples, pulling it up, rolling it. “He’s safe as long as I live. You should come with us when we leave.” “You should learn that you can’t protect everyone. You’re not really a god.” Tristan leaned, kissing Valentine’s fingers and Alix’s areola. “I am tonight, my love.” Valentine left it at that. The body lying between them was very beautiful, and beauty didn’t come cheap or freely. He opened the golden cord around their offering’s waist with his thumbnail, and then Tristan pulled the silk away. So mature and masculine, yet so very inviting and innocent. Alix’s body was smooth of hair with pale and perfect skin, his balls and softened cock lying innocently surrounded by smooth pale skin. “Do you think he’d be excited by knowing we’re having a look at him while he’s sleeping?” Grinning, Tristan caressed the soft cock, tracing his fingers over the smooth pubic area, up over the lined and powerful belly of his pet. “I don’t think he’s sleeping anymore. Our little virgin sacrifice is waking and likely going to resist being taken by his captors.” “Hello, Master,” Alix said, one eye opening. “How long has he been awake?” Valentine snarled, irritated. He’d really been paying more attention to Tristan than he had his prey, and that wasn’t really like him. “Long enough that he should get spanked for eavesdropping.” Both eyes blinked open, lips parted, then snapped shut. Alix didn’t really like spankings and he did not understand why they made him so sexually aroused, even though they hurt. “Please Master! I didn’t mean to! I just didn’t wish to interrupt. Allow me to pleasure you and Master Valentine with my mouth instead. Please Master, to excite your passions so you will forget your anger.” 45

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“Now Alix dear, you know I get to spank you if I wish it anyway. I do want to show Valentine how well you respond to that.” “But it hurts!” “He’s very willful,” Valentine said, his hand joining Tristan’s around Alix’s cock. “I think he should play the part of the ravished virgin, then if he does a very good job, we will let him sleep with us.” Falling into his part, Alix’s hands flew to his cock, as if it had never hardened under strong fingers before. His bare feet tried to get purchase on the smooth leather padding of the exam table and he cried, “Please! Please don’t touch me!” Tristan laughed and he seemed like a pirate to Alix, lusty and unstoppable. “Oh, we will do more than touch you, my prize. We have stolen you and we will have what we will from your beautiful body. Cry all you want! No one will hear you.” Valentine’s inhumanly strong fingers wrapped around both of Alix’s wrists, pulling slender arms up and away from where his hands could protect a hardening passion, pinning them above his head. Alix cried genuine tears, his cock already weeping clear need, as he played the game. “Are you pirates? Will you ransom me? I will be worth nothing if you rape me!” “We’re not going to rape you, Prince! We’re going to make you ask for it!” Tristan’s hand slipped under one slender leg, easily reaching an unprotected entrance already prepared by melted oils. He pressed two fingers into the tight little hole. Alix whimpered, hips thrusting down towards the fingers penetrating him, then pulling back, as he remembered he was supposed to be resisting. The fingers rotated, caressing warm soft flesh, teasing the sweet spot, in and out, too light to really provide much satisfaction. “Feel that, your virgin ass is going to have two cocks up you, spreading your sweet little body so only our cocks will have you again.” “Please don’t! That will hurt terribly!” Alix actually thought having two cocks in him would hurt, but he also wished it, wished his master and his master’s lover to both move within him. “I will never let you! You can not take me!” “But we already have.” Tristan said, making it three fingers, spreading his pet’s opening, preparing him for their usage. Alix’s back arched from the table, shaking as he tried to free himself from the fingers filling his ass. His cock rocked back and forth as he struggled. Then so fast that he didn’t see it coming, the vampire took his hard-on into his mouth, sucking tight in a sheath of throbbing midnight cold, demanding tongue circling him, around the smooth head, down the elegant shaft. Something of the vampire’s opiate must have been in this suckling as well, because Alix’s vision went to black stars. The slight scrap of dangerous 46

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teeth, combined with his master’s other hand taking hold of his balls, massaging them, he cried out, moaning in pleasure and rising passion. His hands though were free and he shoved at the head suckling him. “No! I cannot be taken! I am not for you! Please let me go!” Just as suddenly as the mouth had covered his cock, it was gone, and he found himself rolled over onto his belly, hands pulled behind his back and bound. “We’re going to sell you,” Master said, voice deep with a pirate-type accent. “And you’ll walk naked across the slave block with that cock of yours swinging for everyone to see how hard you are at being sold. But first, we’re going to teach you how to service your owner. Did my fingers feel good in that little virgin hole of yours, Prince?” “No!” Alix lied, trying to get to his knees, hair pooling around his shoulders. “I will never service you.” That brought a hard smack to his ass, sending fire over one cheek, then the other. It only made the emptiness within him even more vivid. He lifted his ass, instinctively submissive, but also wanting his cock off the table, away from friction that could get him a real spanking. “I think you like cock in your ass,” Valentine said, hesitant at this game they were playing, cool fingers encircling Alix’s cock, bringing small mewling pleas from the bound pet. “I think you’re just afraid to say it.” Alix turned his head and smiled at the vampire, locking eyes with him. “I’m not afraid of anything,” he said, words laced with a pride that was meant to reach out to the blond vampire, to comfort him in this game they were playing. That brought a pause. The vampire, who was older than Tristan’s whole family, tilted his head, looking at the sex pet in a new light. He leaned very close, until their noses touched. “Is that so? Even now you do not fear?” “It’s so,” Alix said moving forward to catch the vampire’s lips in a surprise kiss. Valentine loved Tristan. He’d loved other humans. No other kiss had ever left him feeling mortal himself and so surprised. He returned the kiss, gentle and questioning. Tristan rubbed Alix’s back. Deeply powerful movements happened at a desk somewhere, keying in one’s signature. But sometimes they happened unexpectedly in little cottages with a half naked stranger. The unplanned could sometimes reach deeper than any ritual. The kiss deepened, Valentine’s tongue slipping into Alix’s mouth, a hand under his shoulders and Alix felt himself pulled easily to his knees, cool hands against either side of his face. His throat throbbed sweetly, like the after-shocks of ejaculation, and 47

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then he was floating, nothing more than blissful spirit. He could feel his spirit, as if Valentine could cradle his very soul, and a whisper of some promise of freedom of forever, but then as endless as the moment had felt, it slipped away like clouds between his fingers. He slumped against Valentine as the kiss became smaller kisses, tender whispers. Fangs extended, eyes glassy, Valentine looked over Alix’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to do that. He’ll be awake in a few moments.” “I told you he was more,” Tristan pointed out triumphantly. Cool fingers combed through Alix’s hair. “Yes, but I don’t think I understood before just now.” “Let’s go to the bed,” Tristan said, pulling Alix back from Valentine and scooping him up into his arms. “No more games.” Valentine followed them towards the small bedroom. The room was familiar to him, having spent many nights here with Tristan. This room felt like the calm in the eye of the storm, as if nothing could ever touch them here. The dark blue velvet drapes and huge mahogany four-poster bed, the antique needlepoint, all gave an illusion of timeless safety. The world was coming apart at the seams outside of Tristan’s estate, with war only half a dozen systems over, and the marriage of Tristan’s brother, moving Tristan that much closer to being in line for the succession. But for now, they were safe in a time before war. The vampire pulled the covers back on the bed and Tristan laid Alix down between them as if he was the only comfort either of them really had. They had slipped free of their pants with just the soft sound of cloth and skin, breathing and hope in the room. Valentine took more time to lose his underwear, socks, and shoes than Tristan with just his pants. The darker haired man had already stretched out beside Alix when Valentine finished. He held out his hand, forgiveness for a kiss that had been a little too personal with his pet, his lover, and an acceptance that there would be a very deep sharing between them. Their hands clasped and the edginess receded a little. “What do you want to do now?” Valentine asked, scooting very close to Alix, one knee sliding under the pet’s smooth bare leg. “Let’s do something wicked,” Tristan said, smiling.

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Chapter Three

Alix came to, slowly, after the kiss. If people could be had as pets, he wanted one just like Master’s friend. He didn’t know how many days it had been since he’d left The Raver, but if every time he woke up was a day, then it was beginning to feel like the better part of a week. His master lay on his right side, Valentine on the left, warm and cool, their hands clasped over his chest, and he found himself smiling. The tenderness of that smile was quickly followed by a feeling of being lost, of being in a world where he didn't know the rules. If he closed his eyes, he could feel desire rise for the men beside him, especially for his master, Tristan. And he was happy, but a feeling nagged at him that he was lost in a maze much bigger than his master’s garden. With his eyes closed, he could draw the night sky in his mind; he could search for his home. A longing for home took him so intensely then, as if he’d been torn in half and he lay there, slender fingers taking hold of both Master’s and Valentine’s hands. Tears darkened baby-blue eyelashes. He could never go home, never complain over his sister’s cooking again, or share his strings with her, or find out who she fell in love with. Even if he could walk back out the temple doors, she and all the others would think him made into a god now. He wished they could understand that these people were not gods. Smooth fingers wiped tears from his eyes and he turned his head to face Valentine. The man was so pale, so perfectly beautiful. He was like a sculpture, something created, not living. When he smiled softly, lips just barely lifting, Alix felt a warmth for him, enough to return his smile and let go of his homesickness. “What’s wrong,” Valentine mouthed, no sound, though Alix ‘heard’ him clearly. “I want to go home,” Alix said, voice just as silent, hoping Valentine would understand. “Hey,” Tristan said, moving up onto his elbow, fingers wiping wet away from Alix’s other eye. “Are you talking to Valentine without me?” “If you eavesdrop, I might have to spank you,” Alix teased, smiling, lifting his head a little to kiss his master’s fingers. 49

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Valentine laughed, but Tristan leaned close and took Alix’s mouth in a kiss, rough and deep, his hand slipping into blue curls, holding him possessively. There is a home for everyone, a home lost in a past that can't be returned to. Alix rediscovered his home as he melted into his master's kiss. His soul opened as the kiss bore into him, as his master seemed to drink his submission. When the kiss broke, Alix lay panting between them, watching Master’s emerald eyes, feeling love like a rising sun in his chest. “Do you still want to spank me?” Tristan asked, smug. “If you want me to,” Alix half whispered. “I think you’re part vampire,” Valentine said, coming up closer behind Alix, kissing his neck, pulling long curls up from between them. “I think we should both take him. Did we not say we were going to take him together?” “Oh now,” Alix said, wiggling, trying to sit up, even though. “I’m not big enough there for both of you. You’re both very powerful and large and there’s no way! How about I take one of you in my mouth and one in my, uh, bottom.” Tristan wrapped encouraging fingers around Alix’s already hardening cock. “Oh Alix, but we want your bottom, so tight and full.” His master leaned forward and kissed his ear, warm and wet, tracing the outline with his tongue as Alix started to moan and purr. The purr was something designed into many pets, so their throats could actually vibrate when feeling pleasure. “Alix is still very innocent, Val. He can’t say the word ass, even though his sweet little ass is going to be filled very full soon.” Valentine smacked Tristan’s ear lightly. “Don’t tease him like that. Innocence is very attractive.” The kiss at Alix’s ear became a warm kiss between Tristan and Valentine, their lips brushing against his cheek, his ear, and then a whisper he could hear in his thoughts only, “You do want us both inside you, don’t you? The fear of what it will feel like excites you, just as it excites me, does it not?” Alix mewled. The fear did excite him, as did their warmth, and he did want both of them, but that caused him another kind of fear. He wanted them both, but he felt he should only want Master. “I do want you both,” He admitted. “Didn’t I tell you he was marvelous?” Tristan asked. “We both want you as well, my love.” A tingle swept over Alix’s chest, tightening his nipples, sending prickling pleasure over his balls, down between his legs. One leg against each of the men beside him, he bent his knees, spreading and offering. “I am yours and you can do with me as you wish.” “Mine,” Tristan purred, reaching above them to the headboard, from which he pulled out light leather cuffs. “Give me your wrists, Pet.” 50

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Alix raised his arms, wrists lying across each other, submitting them to his master to be bound. He closed his eyes as the leather touched him, soft and pliable, but quickly tight around his wrists. As soon as Master’s hands withdrew, Alix tugged, pulling at the manacles and chains holding him. That he couldn’t free himself sent a shock of excitement through him, down his belly, up his cock, and he whimpered. Alix felt awkward. If it were just Master, he’d mewl and cry and struggle, then moan as he was taken, melting into his master’s arms as they rode each other. With Valentine in the mix, he felt some urge to assert his independence, some need to impress the blond, and so he fidgeted between them. And then they kissed again, above him so he could watch. Lying between them, he imagined what it would feel like to be a kiss between his master and Valentine, warmer and cooler lips moving over each other. Their kiss blended them and he saw it as dawn and twilight, a union of such power. He groaned, jealous, wanting those powers back with him, afraid of being forgotten, perhaps. All that got him though was his master's strong arm scooping under his knees and curling him back, bottom vulnerable and exposed as it hung in the air. Then Valentine’s finger circled the tight opening between his cheeks. He moved his hips, resisting because he wanted to make Valentine force him. His master and Valentine's kiss continued, burning the hunger in Alix. He started to pull against the chains holding his wrists as Valentine’s finger penetrated him. Then, he arched, hoping for that finger to touch the spot within him that would spark pleasure, make him float, but the finger avoided it deftly, teasing him. “Please!” he purred, words wavering with the vibration in his vocal cords. “Touch me.” Then there were two fingers, rotating, spreading tight muscles. Every touch felt vivid, like he could feel Valentine so intimately. When Tawn touched him, it was only business, and suddenly he was crying, overwhelmed by the love his master must feel for Valentine to share. It was a love that opened into Alix then as well, that he accepted without judgment. He loved them both and he was floating in a sweet place of submission as his master lifted him up so Valentine could slide under him. His master let him down, lowering him against the firm body below, against the eager cock between his legs. Then his master was between his legs, kissing away tears, cheek to cheek with him, caressing, comforting. Floating drew the world so much more vividly sometimes, and he watched his master move, tight muscles, beautiful, soft, dark hair, such a sweet smile, lips parted, and Alix thought his Master must be the most beautiful man in the world. He whimpered as 51

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the head of Valentine’s cock touched very sensitive skin, then slid into him. He closed his eyes, tilting his hips so the hardness entering him would brush against his secret jewel. “Relax, Alix,” Tristan said, that deep resonate voice that Alix had fallen in love with before he’d ever seen his master. “Relax, take a deep breath. It will be like the first time I took you. It will burn a little, but you are brave, my love.” Valentine held his place deep within Alix, a coolness that he could feel every inch of. Valentine's smooth, almost chill fingers began to play with his nipple, to stroke his hard and throbbing penis. “I am yours to use, to punish, to love,” Alix said, relaxing into his submission as his master began to finger the already tight hole, to tease and massage and, soon another finger was within him. He spread his legs, feet moving over silky sheets, helpless to stop what they would do to him even if he wanted to. Though under the delicious dominance of his master, he knew he could call a safe word, that they’d stop, both of them, hold him, love him, care for him. That subconscious knowledge made it even safer to feel as if he had a choice, to feel as if he allowed the second hardness into his body. And then they were joined, the three of them, two powerful manhoods moving against each other, loving each other within him. He floated, seeing white, feeling the kisses of the vampire against his arm, his ear, and of his master against his other ear. He cried out, panting from pleasure that hung just beyond his reach, “Please, Master, my I cum? May I peak?” “So soon?” Valentine’s voice whispered in his thoughts. “This pleasures you?” “Oh yes!” Alix said, his sweaty body sliding against his master. His Master moved within him, sliding against the hard body beneath. “Yes, cum, my loves! Mix with me!” Tristan cried out, driving deep into Alix, a hand in Valentine’s hair. Valentine’s cry was low, almost a whisper, and yet it sent prickles over Alix’s shoulder, down his belly. Tristan groaned, almost growled, holding both of his lovers, possessive as any force of nature. “Mine! My loves!” Bliss glowed after love like that, and master, pet and vampire all can float in submission to passion. They cuddled there, warm and caressing each other with a love didn’t care what happened outside of their cottage, or what place the outside world thought they each should have. Alix felt sleep wrap around his master, felt the deepening of his breath, but he didn’t know if he could sleep ever again. With his release had come a surge in energy that quickly brought curiosity and so many questions about the world he was on now. 52

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Valentine opened the leather cuffs, and placed a soft kiss against his cheek. Then the vampire was gone, disappearing without disturbing the bed from one breath to the next. A moment later, Alix slipped from the bed as well. He’d meant to explore this house of his master’s, to look for a lyre maybe, or some musical instrument to work off his energy with. Or to see if the dawn had started yet. “Come outside,“ Valentine called, words in Alix’s thoughts. A flavor of clandestine conspiracy to the whisper should have sent Alix back into his master’s bed, but he refused to back away, simply because it frightened him. He found the vampire on a hill behind the little house, fully dressed, arms crossed, as he watched the sun rise. Alix paused where the path of velvet soft grass started up the hill. Valentine was also very beautiful, exotic, even more so than his master, as if he’d come from some place even farther away. A feeling of smallness chilled him. The world was too big really to comprehend, too massive for him to find his place. As if he could hear Alix’s thoughts, Valentine turned and smiled. “It’s not, you know, not too big. Come here.” He still could turn and go back to Master, so he wasn’t sure why his feet were carrying him up the hill, towards the dawn. His hair lay warm over his back, sticking to skin where sweat dried. He’d always walked his own path, written his own songs, made his own choices, and not all the world was lived lying in bed, even a bed, which held his master. Valentine turned back to the dawn, and Alix stood next to him. The dawn came blue on this world, seeping through clouds that lay thick and layered just like the ones at home. Not all things were different. “You are a free person, Alix,” Valentine said, casual as if he’d been commenting on the beautiful exotic sunrise. Alix rolled his eyes over this statement of the obvious, leaned forward and grinned. Valentine was stiff, formal, and much more distant now that they weren’t having sex. Alix imagined what kind of life this man might have had. What kind of man could be so powerful and yet give of such an antiquated scent of fragility? “Of course, I am. Aren’t you?” “I’m so free,” Valentine said, face holding no expression, “that I don’t even exist. That is the best way for people like you and I in this world. Or any of the worlds out beyond this little kingdom.” “What do you mean by ‘people like you and I’? You don’t believe that Master’s people are gods, do you? Did you at one time?” 53

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“No, never,” Valentine said, a faint flicker of some past emotion, some dark anger flickering over his face. “Not gods. This hair of yours, it is very beautiful. I never have found this color beautiful before I met you.” “Why?” Alix asked, frowning, fingers combing through his pale blue curls. “Many people where I came from had this color of hair. Is it rare here?” “Only ‘pets’ have that color hair, or that length. Free people have short hair.” “I don’t care what people say or think. There is an oddness to these people of my master's world. They will understand in time. All living persons are free. It can not be other wise.” Valentine turned back towards the rising sun. “I find it very odd that I believe you. That is like saying I believe I shall never hunger again. As Tristan said, you are more.” “Not really. I’m only a harper. I don’t even believe in the gods.” “Exactly,” Valentine said. The blade came from the vampire’s sleeve, perhaps, and he moved too quickly to give Alix a chance to move. The blade went though his hair with one jerk, slicing away three feet of blue curl. Alix’s hands flew to the back of his head to the ragged ends of his hair. “No! Why did you do that,” he asked, anger flashing in his narrowed eyes. “Free persons do not have long hair,” Valentine said, throwing the hair to the wind, where it spread and fluttered. “You are a free person.” And then the vampire was gone, leaving Alix to stand on the hill, feeling the lightest of his life, blue sunrise dawning on a brand new day.

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Chapter Four

“Do you have it?” Elizabit asked suspiciously. She sat on the upper level of her nightclub with an easy view to the seven staggered floors below where the elite of Centri’menimas courted the wicked sensual delights, and the fine edge of Her Majesty’s laws. Royal blood flowed in her as surely as it did in Tristan, though their father had given only one of them the family name. She had his look too, but on her it was more exotic—not emerald, but emerald and gold, flame and gold for hair, short and rude, kohl lined eyes that watched everything at once, and high cheekbones. She leaned back in the onyx colored velvet chair and thin-as-silk black leather slid back from one lean knee as she wrapped her arms around her leg, pulling it to her chest. Treason could make even the most confident of nightclub owners nervous. A man, slender with short defiant blue hair, eyes modified to have pupils that slit like a cat’s eyes, bowed, and a smirk just barely lifted his lips. “Of course, I have what you wanted. Grace and Fire never fail.” Behind the man stood another figure, completely cloaked under cream, colored leather, like a work of art to be unveiled. Elizabit stood, and touched a ruby set into a pillar, activating a dark privacy screen to enclose her private level. She stepped around the bioartist, and touched the hood on the figure behind him. “Go on,” he encouraged her. “You can change your mind, but I still want to be paid. He’s perfect.” “Hello then,” she purred, pushing the hood back. “Hello big brother!” The pet, created right there in Centri’menimas, was a perfect replica of her brother, but with the long auburn hair of a pet lying across his shoulders. She ran her fingers over a cheek, feeling the warmth and perfect texture of his skin. This kind of pet was created as an adult, empty mind—a perfect doll. “Well? What do you think? Do you have the mind overlays yet?” “He’s perfect, Dyrd, but I knew he would be. The funds will be in your account before you leave the club. I will have the overlays in three days. We need him complete and programmed before the wedding.” 55

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Dyrd ran a finger down the side of the Tristan-copy and the creature leaned into the touch. “I’m sure you’re keeping up with the dirt on your brother, but it’s said he’s brought a new pet with him. Seems almost enamored of it,” Dyrd said, a hint of disgust layering his words. “It will likely be brought to the wedding. Do you want it copied as well?” “My brother is an idiot to fall in love with a painting. We do not need to copy a pet. The thing will not even know my brother has been replaced. When he is gone, perhaps I will take his new little toy for myself. Is it pretty?” “Very. It’s got sky blond hair and a very androgynous body. It is said that Lord Styr offered Lord Yarril nine arin for it.” Elizabit pulled the hood back over the pet replica, disgusted. “That money could be used for something useful. No pet could be worth that much wealth.” “If you acquire it when your brother is executed, perhaps you will allow me to give you that much for it. Alive, of course. It is difficult to copy something, which is already dead. Of course, with the original to copy, the copy is so much more durable. Speaking of which, pretty boy here will not last long after the wedding. Once he completes his task, if you mean to see Tristan executed, you’ll have to act quickly.” She sat back down, one leg dangling over the arm of her chair. “He doesn’t have to last long. We shall just replace him with the original. Then they can take their time with the execution.” Her fingers caressed the ruby and the privacy screen dropped. “Thank you for visiting me, Dryd.” “Always, beautiful Elizabit,” he said, bowing. And that was it. He turned and his creation followed him, like a mindless satellite. A moment after he left, Elizabit motioned and a beautiful woman moved forward from the shadows, green eyes, floor length hair, the mark of a high status pet. The woman bowed. She wore only her hair, a red veil that shifted and moved as she breathed, as she waited on her mistress. “Mistress?” “Bring me a bottle of champagne,” she said. She wondered where her brother was now, and if he had any idea that he was going to kill the queen. Better to lose one myopic queen than to lose all their worlds.

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BIO

Nix Winter lives in Seattle, with two children, a cat, four rats, and an artist roommate. She is the author of twelve books, both ebook and paperbacks, and dozens of other stories. She enjoys history and languages, drawing, and travel. She writes fantasy and science fiction stories with enduring love and sparkling intimacy.

SEE OTHER WORKS BY THIS AUTHOR AT

www.VenusPress.com

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