Laricon's Ways

by Patricia Green

  The older man ignored him. "She's all right. Have her brought down here. And the red-head next to her. Irena was a red-head."

  "Irena, Irena, Irena," the young man muttered disdainfully.

  "Hush, Roberto," Laricon said sharply.

  Roberto slunk lower in his chair, his hazel eyes glittering with resentment.

  Next to Laricon, Michael O'Malley, Laricon's governmental aide, blinked and then frowned. The blonde girl looked familiar, too familiar.

  Michael couldn't afford any complications right now. He chuckled, though his gut was roiling. "That red-head looks hot, sir. Did you notice the stripes on her nipples? Obviously has a temper."

  Laricon glanced sideways at Michael. "Are you interested on my account, dear boy, or yours? You've yet to choose a consort and start a family."

  Whoops, Michael thought dismally. "On your account, of course, sir! You came here to find a replacement for Irena, if one could be found of course. She was so special. I was just trying to help, sir. I'm very happy with things as they are."

  Laricon nodded, patting Michael's knee in a fatherly sort of way. "Perhaps. But as I've told Roberto several times, the Palace isn't a bachelor pad. You'll have to choose one and settle down soon. I need you to provide an example to the men, and the governmental ambassadors, and such. You can always have variety as well as a family."

  "Of course, sir," Michael said, glancing toward the spoiled and sulky Roberto who was picking his fingernails disinterestedly. The last thing he wanted right now was a Lariconese family here on Ganymede. But the old man didn't need to hear that.

  Nina and the red-head were brought to Laricon's box. Stunners were trained on them as they were shown where to stand, not far from The Great Man.

  "The red-head," Laricon said, waving a hand airily.

  Ed Walker stood and took the red-head by the arm, bringing her to about three feet in front of the country's leader.

  Laricon stood and peered at the frightened woman. "Nice skin, but red eyes when she cries. Always a problem with red-heads."

  Walker nodded, his face impassive.

  "Check her teeth, Ed."

  At first the woman tried to pull her head away, but Walker took her by the hair as he pried her mouth open. Tears rolled down her face and humiliation brought a flush up her body. "Not much dental work, sir," Walker reported. "Decent teeth, normal tongue." Walker let go and moved aside.

  Laricon rose from his chair. "Good shape to her, eh Michael?" Laricon threw over his shoulder as he ran a blue-veined hand down the woman's flank.

  Michael nodded. "Perfect, sir. Although she has smaller breasts than the blonde, I'd say that they suit her pretty well. And the red pubic hair is nice."

  "I think she's just awful, Father," Roberto chimed in. "And, she's nothing like Irena."

  Laricon sniffed, ignoring his son. "I've always liked the red pubic hair. But she doesn't have nice, big, bouncy breasts. Irena had big breasts."

  Michael persisted. The blonde was just too familiar and he'd rather not find out why. "Yes, sir. Perfectly shaped, too, if I may be so bold."

  Ed Walker snorted, his eyes saying "butt-kisser" though he said nothing aloud to Michael.

  Laricon didn't seem to notice. He turned to the red-head and smiled, his elderly gray face distorted by the expression. "You're probably scared, aren't you, dear?" He ran a single knotted finger across the woman's belly and her flesh quivered. "Answer."

  "Y-yes," she whispered, tears still flowing down her face.

  "What's your name?" Laricon asked.

  "L-laura Addison," she replied thickly.

  Laricon slid his thumb over her bruised right nipple. She gasped and pulled away reflexively, gritting her teeth. Laricon laughed. "Laura Addison, let me tell you something. Fear is appropriate for you, here, today. I could, you know, cause you considerable pain without doing much damage. Like your nipples. Certainly, that isn't what you want, is it my dear?"

  Laura sobbed. "No! No, please!"

  "Sir," Laricon added for her.

  "No, please, sir," she repeated around her sobs.

  "Do you think you can be a good girl, an obedient girl, no matter what you're asked to do?" Laricon petted Laura's hair, his expression enigmatic.

  Laura had to think about that for a moment, and Laricon frowned. "Yes, yes, sir!" she said, bowing her head in defeat.

  Laricon smiled and touched Laura's face gently. He pointed toward Roberto. "Laura, my dear, that is Master Roberto. You're going to suck his penis until he comes in your mouth. You're going to swallow. And when you're done, you're going to kiss Roberto's boots and say, 'All hail Laricon.' Do you understand, Laura dear?"

  "Oh really, Father! I'd rather not. She'll drool on my boots!"

  Laricon glared at Roberto. "Nonsense, boy."

  A kind of panic appeared in Laura's eyes and she wrung her hands desperately. "Please don't make me. Please … please. I'm a married woman. I'm married."

  Ed Walker shook his head. "Stupid woman."

  Roberto relaxed in his chair.

  Laricon sighed and sat back down. "Have you any interest, Michael? Roberto obviously doesn't."

  Quickly, Michael shook his head. "No, sir. She would probably be a training problem if she can't follow simple instructions."

  Laricon flicked his wrist toward the stage where about half the women had already been auctioned off. Walker nodded to the guards, and Laura was pulled back to the stairs and prodded back up to the stage.

  Laricon pushed his gray hair back from his forehead. "Intelligence is not the associate of beauty, eh Michael?"

  "Not always, sir, no," Michael answered, a bit relieved that Laricon hadn't forced him to take the red-head for himself.

  "Bring the blonde forward, Ed," Laricon said, his voice sounding somewhat weary, as if choosing among the women was a tedious and tiring chore. Nina was pushed forward until she stood where Laura had been. She'd not missed any of the interaction between the men and Laura. The old man was obviously a buyer, someone important. The man behind him, his son. But what puzzled her was the tall dark-haired man sitting to Laricon's right. She thought she recognized him, though she didn't think he'd had a goatee before. But his being here was so contrary to how she remembered him that it just didn't seem possible.

  "Who are you?" Laricon said softly, looking at his nails and not at the beautiful, naked girl in front of him.

  "Nina Stanley … sir."

  Laricon smiled, still studying his nails. "Nina Stanley the quick learner," he said. "Teeth, Ed."

  Ed Walker checked Nina's mouth, more to test her cooperativeness than anything else. She'd already passed the medical scan or she wouldn't be here.

  Laricon stood up and reached for Nina's taut nipples, taking them between thumb and forefinger. She trembled and growled deep in her throat, showing her unwillingness, but didn't struggle. Laricon raised an eyebrow as he began to apply pressure to the sensitive buds.

  Nearby, Michael grit his teeth and tried to appear casual, though he could see the girl's pain level begin to rise. He always hated these demonstrations, but Laricon delighted in them.

  Roberto sat up straighter in his chair.

  Laricon locked eyes with Nina as she began to moan with pain. When he'd applied all the pressure he could, he began to twist her nipples as well, and she came up on her tiptoes, her back arched, a scream building in the back of her throat and trying to escape from her clenched teeth. "Ask for mercy," he finally said to her. "Just ask."

  Michael's teeth were grinding and he had to concentrate on not making his hands into fists.

  "P-p-please," Nina gritted out. "Please, s-s-stop, sir!" she cried.

  Laricon withdrew immediately, and Nina's body seemed to sag like a puppet on strings. Her nipples were purple and puffy and she was breathing hard. The old man cupped her breasts tenderly. "We might get along," he said softly. "How old are you, Nina Stanley?"

  "I'm … I'm twenty-four."

  "Too old, Father," Roberto comme
nted. "She's only a year younger than me. The Farm girls are so much better. I don't see why you don't..."

  "Roberto!" Laricon warned. His eyes were still on Nina. They'd obviously been over this argument before. "She's still young enough." He ran his hand down her belly toward her mound and she tensed.

  Nina glanced over toward the familiar dark-haired man who seemed to be studiously avoiding her gaze. She was nearly sure he was the same one she remembered. A lieutenant in the Solarian Command Security. A man she'd spent a single, incredible, war-hurried, passionate night with six years ago during the Martian conflict. He'd been moved out to a different unit, deeper in the battle zone, the next morning. Nina had never seen or heard from him again. That night had made a helluva impression on her though, and she had to work to keep herself from comparing lovers since then unfavorably.

  She gasped as Laricon's hand cupped her pubis harshly. She glared at him. "Please stop touching me, sir. And let me go home."

  Laricon laughed with delight. "Oh ho! That's beautiful!" He took two steps back to regard her carefully.

  "I told you, Father. Untrainable."

  "What do you think, Michael?" Laricon asked.

  Michael was thinking as fast as he could. He definitely recognized Nina from six years ago, and remembered the night they'd shared together in explicit detail. So much explicit detail, in fact, that he felt himself growing hard.

  "She's okay, sir," he said non-committally.

  Walker snorted. "What does O'Malley know, sir? He's too busy with administrative stuff to even notice the women."

  Laricon looked at Michael oddly. "Nonsense. Come on boy and get a good close look. I'm asking your opinion!"

  Michael stood, closing his jacket over the lump in his pants. "Of course, sir." It was a near-disaster.

  "O'Malley?" the girl said. "Michael O'Malley?"

  Laricon shot quizzical glances between Michael and Nina.

  "Michael, get me out of here! Help me, please!" Nina implored, taking a step toward him.

  Knowing Laricon was watching, Michael had no choice. "Yeah, I remember you, Nina." He cupped her chin and tried to tell her with his eyes that he was sorry, sorry for what he was about to do. "A nice lay, as I recall. Very good with her mouth, sir."

  Nina gasped and slapped his face. Immediately a guard manhandled her back. "You pig! You god damned fucker! I don't know what this is or what this is about, but you're not the man I remember."

  "No, bitch," Michael ground out, rubbing the red hand print on his cheek. "I'm not. I got smart; wised up. If you're smart you'll learn that things here are different. And women obey, they don't order."

  Roberto was watching with more interest than he'd shown all evening. Michael squirmed under his avid demeanor.

  Laricon was smiling, his yellow, crooked teeth making the expression malevolent. "Well, said, Michael my boy. You know this young lady from where?"

  "Back when I was in Command Security, sir. During the Martian conflict. She was a reservist. Had the hots for me and so I fucked her one night. Left the next morning. That was it."

  "I see," Laricon nodded. He turned to Nina. "Are you still in Command Security, girl? Don't lie because I will find out and the consequences will be … well, draconian."

  "No," she answered succinctly. And when Laricon raised an eyebrow, she glared, but said, "No, sir."

  "Very well. Turn around."

  "Suck rocks … sir," she replied.

  Laricon raised an eyebrow and moved to take hold of her nipples again. When she tried to resist, guards grabbed her arms. The pain Laricon inflicted was excruciating, bringing her first to her tiptoes and then down to her knees.

  As she kneeled there, sobbing and gasping for breath, Laricon patted her on the head. "Let's not repeat that lesson again, young lady. I abhor tedium." He stepped back. "Now stand up and turn around."

  Wiping tears from her face, Nina stood and turned her back to the men. Laricon's hand moved over her lower back and bottom, and her hands fisted. "If you hit me, you'll die," he whispered in her ear. His breath was sour in her face.

  He moved back to his seat. "I don't know. What do you think, Ed?"

  Walker shrugged. "She seems smart enough to be trained. But I don't know her like O'Malley does," he said pointedly.

  Laricon looked at Michael.

  "It was just one night, sir. She blew me, I fucked her. That was it. I wasn't interested in knowing her. All I can say is that she opened her legs when I told her to."

  "God damn you, O'Malley!" Nina spat, her back still to the men. A sharp smack on her bottom made her gasp and sob, though she tried not to.

  "Shut up, bitch," Walker said. "Speak when you're spoken to and do what you're told."

  Her answer was a growl of fury, but Walker only chuckled.

  "She's sturdy, feisty, and doesn't start screaming easily," Laricon noted. "This girl amuses me. Edward, tell the bursar that we'll be taking her for the Palace."

  Walker motioned a guard, who went off to find the bursar. Selling women to the Palace was a good deal for the slave-traders, bringing in an excellent commission. There was no argument about the price.

  "Well done," Laricon said. "Let's take our little doll home and see what positions she'll take, eh?" He whacked Michael on the back and piloted him forward out of the box, leaving Roberto to trail behind.

  As Walker led her out of the box, Nina heard Laricon ask Michael if "she was tight." She couldn't hear Michael's reply.

  Chapter 2

  While Ed Walker stayed behind to make payment to the bursar, Nina was led by the guards to the auditorium's exterior where they robed her in a thick yellow cape. Only her bare feet felt the cold of the domed "outside." Seasons were apparently desired in Laricon's country; they were currently experiencing winter, right down to a few decorously blown mounds of snow in the park across the street from the auditorium. The trees were bare of leaves, and the "sky" – such as it was beneath the necessary environmental dome – was gray.

  Within moments, a black limousine hover-car pulled up. Laricon, Michael and two guards got in first. Roberto stood with her and the guards as they waited for Walker.

  "I know you're a slut," Roberto said softly as they stood together. "Your eyes say 'fuck me if you dare.' Father will share you around. And I'll be first. I have ways of ensuring it. You'll see."

  Nina shivered despite her warm yellow cloak. "Get away from me, sir," she hissed. "Or I'll tell your Father."

  Roberto laughed and joined the other men in the limo.

  Walker caught up and pulled Nina along and into the vehicle as well. Her nipples were still throbbing but the hurts were inconsequential compared to the pain in her heart. What kind of place was this?! She'd just been bought by some old man she'd never seen before, and it appeared she was going to be some kind of sex slave! To make it all hurt worse, Michael O'Malley had made her feel dirtier than even this sordid situation. She'd never thought of that one night with him as a "one night stand." It had just happened, and had been magical. Magical, that is, until today. Obviously, to him it had been cheap gratification from an inexperienced young reservist. The bastard.

  Turning to Michael, Laricon said, "I want to make sure we're in sync on how we're going to handle the situation in the South Continent."

  "Right, sir," Michael nodded. "The idea is to increase the discontent, while keeping Laricon's name out of it. I've got several key men already in place in the governor's office; they're basically waiting for our signal to throw Governor Beatty to the wolves and take over. And two of our subversive cells have recently told me that the laborers are well enough organized to support the coup. The Solarian Federation is on its way out, sir."

  Laricon stared at the glassed ceiling of the transport while he thought this over. "I'd like this to take place while I'm holding negotiations with Governor Marsh of East Shore. Give him a shot of fear, and let him see what can happen to him if he doesn't play the game my way, you see?"

  "Yes, sir. An excellen
t plan," Michael concurred. "Once Beatty is out and with Marsh cowed, the rest of Ganymede is yours, sir."

  "Exactly how I want it, Michael my boy. Exactly."

  They rode in silence the rest of the way to the Great Man's Palace, Michael studiously avoiding eye contact with Nina, though her glares at him could have melted titanium.

  The palace was a huge glass and metal structure, cold looking from the outside, and not much warmer and homier inside. The principals peeled off from the foyer and Nina was led by a guard to the women's quarters. At the door to a large, carpeted chamber, an older woman came forward immediately, baring her fairly saggy breasts and kneeling on the floor with her head bowed in obeisance to the guard. "We welcome you, sir," she said. Nina noted that no one else was in the large room, except for two naked females in the nearest corners, who, like the matron, knelt and bowed their heads.

  The guard snorted disdainfully and pushed Nina forward. "This one's to replace Irena." He nodded toward one of the naked females as the matron looked up. "Send a bang-girl to my quarters in an hour. And she'd better not be one minute late!"

  "Of course, sir," the matron said smoothly. "We endeavor to please."

  Again the man snorted, turned on his heel and left.

  When he had closed the big silver double doors behind him, the matron stood. The two naked women changed to sitting positions in the corners. The matron turned to one of them, the one the guard had indicated. "You know what to do. And, Lydia, if he complains, you'll have me to answer to. Understood?"

  Lydia nodded, muttering, "Yes, Matron," beneath her breath. She got up and moved through an archway, her steps slow with resignation. Nina noted that the word "bang" had been tattooed on the girl's lower belly. It wasn't decorous or feminine, but rather a slap-dash, thick-fonted and ugly marking. Very curious.

  The matron turned to Nina, having to look up at her slightly due to their different heights. "Take off the cape."