She looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Yes, yes, sir. The women you've chosen always speak highly of you, sir. I guess it would be alright this one time." She pointed to the alcove where all the women's chambers lay. "The unclaimed women are on the left side of the hall. The claimed women on the right. Remain on the left side of the hall and you'll be able to view all your potential choices. They are all in chambers tonight, sir, except for one who was injured today and is in the infirmary."
Michael's dark brow rose. "Nothing serious I hope." He recalled the blood he'd seen on the girl Nina was dragging from Laricon's chamber.
"No, sir, just some minor cuts and bruises. Now I really must go."
"Very well, Matron. I'll see you again tomorrow."
She bowed quickly and hurried out of the large room, reverencing the guards at the door.
Once the doors closed, Michael made his way to the alcove where all the ladies' chambers awaited. He didn't really care about inspecting the spare women tonight. He was more interested in finding Nina and clueing her in on what was going on.
He veered directly to the right and peered in the first glass door. Crystal slept within, wrapped in a light blanket. The next door showed him Walker's women, curled around each other like puppies. The third door was Nina's. She slept half uncovered, a lovely leg thrown out of the blanket, her hair spilling slightly off the bed.
Michael slid the door open and closed behind him, approaching the bed stealthily. He put his hand over her mouth and sat down on the edge of the bed as she thrashed awake with fear.
"Shhhh," he whispered. "It's me." She blinked and nodded. He removed his hand.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" she hissed.
"Visiting an ex?" he tried.
Her face went dark. "I ought to kill you. Better yet, I ought to scream to high heaven and let Laricon kill you."
He nodded. "Yeah, maybe. Or you could control yourself and listen to what I have to tell you, then decide if you still want me dead."
She pulled the blanket up to her chin. "Okay. You have my attention. It had better be good, O'Malley."
He thought the blanket was kind of charming, all things considered, but chose not to voice the notion. "I just wanted you to know that things here aren't all as they seem."
She snorted. "Yeah, they're worse!"
"Shhh," he reminded her. "I'm not the horrible traitor you think me. I'm here on a CS mission."
Her look was highly skeptical.
"Really. The thing is, the whole sting is going to come to fruition in just a few days. I can't afford to seem too interested in you, helping you, and potentially screwing it up. You understand?"
She considered this for a moment. "You sure are convincing."
He raked his hair from his forehead. "I've been working at it for four years. I'd better be convincing."
"Okay, so how can I help?"
"You can't. Everything's set. Just don't make waves. Go along. I know it's hard, but I need Laricon to stop thinking of you and me as some sort of new toy dolls."
She nodded. "That fucker. He likes to play at hurting people and any advantage gets twisted his way."
"Right. Now he's going to ask you to do some really, probably totally abhorrent things. But just try to remember that it's only for a few more days. Then we'll get you and all the other women out of here. Got it?"
Tears formed in her eyes. "It's hard, Michael."
He touched her face gently. "Yeah, I know, kitten. For me, too."
She took his wrist and pressed her cheek into his big warm hand. "You never even wrote a damn email."
He sighed. "Yeah, I know. I feel like a heel. But I went from one mission to another. And this one for four years. It just seemed like there wasn't room for a relationship. Not a real one anyway. It wasn't that I didn't care, Nina."
"I thought it was someone else."
"God no." He smoothed her hair over a shell-like ear. "No, Nina. Not that I've been a saint or anything."
She smiled. "I know that pretty well."
He blushed, glad that she couldn't see it well in the dimness. "I'd better be going. I don't want to be found here. Things are going to get kinda hairy tomorrow, so just be ready, okay?"
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
He pressed his fingers to her lips. "You'll find out soon enough. But just remember, whatever I do, it's not the me down deep inside, okay? And clean up your language. It'll only get you in trouble here."
She frowned, puzzled, but nodded.
He stood, tucked the blanket around her and kissed her on the forehead. "G'night, kitten."
"Good night, Michael."
After he'd gone Nina wondered if he'd write her when this operation was over or just disappear like before.
Michael slinked down the hall and peered in at the women in the spare chambers. Their rooms were slightly larger, but had to accommodate two women. There were five currently in residence, since one was in the infirmary.
There really wasn't much contest among them, as he didn't intend to settle down and start a Lariconese family. But he saw that the little brunette he'd taken to Nina's coming out party was still available. She was curled up with her roommate in their bed like a couple of spoons. She wasn't very bright, but she was eager to please and obedient. That would do just fine for the few days they'd need to set up housekeeping.
He turned and left, passing the guards as though it was perfectly normal for him to be in the women's enclave unescorted. Once in his own chamber he thought about Nina some more. Maybe he should have told her about the perverse scenario Laricon had in mind for them. No, better that she not be too prepared. Her reactions would be more natural and Laricon would be satisfied more easily.
Some small part of him was looking forward to feeling her in his hands again, too. He'd like to be a better man than that, but he was what he was. It was undeniable that he was deeply attracted to Nina. It had probably been a mistake not to keep in touch with her over the years. Maybe it would have even turned into something. Until he got shipped here to Laricon for four years, that is.
Just as well he'd let her go her own way, he decided as he dropped off into a fitful sleep.
Chapter 7
Matron appeared at Nina's door just as she was finishing getting dressed for the day. She threw a gray skirt and top down on the bed and pointed to them. "You're to wear those for the next few days. The Great Man has ordered you to be retrained."
Nina picked up the skirt and saw that it tied on one side and was a little longer than knee length. The loose top was short sleeved and open down the front, no closures at all. She looked back at Matron. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."
"No. You've been very disobedient and disrespectful. But you'll learn. I promise you, you'll learn." She pointed to the gray garments again.
Nina pulled off her pink robe and donned the simple gray outfit. It left one leg bare and didn't close across her breasts. She spread her blonde curls over her shoulders carelessly. "This isn't very modest, Matron."
Matron clucked her tongue. "Modesty is a privilege you've lost. You'll have to earn it back by being very, very obedient."
"I see, Matron."
"Follow me. I'll show you your new chamber."
"What, the dungeon?" Nina quipped.
"Hush!" Matron ordered sternly. "You'll get two for that."
They moved through the great chamber and the baths, and outside to the garden. Near the back of the garden, there was a storm door set just above ground. Matron used a key to unlock the door and motioned for Nina to precede her.
Expecting a dark, dank dungeon, Nina was surprised to see a wide, clean room, well lit, with five empty glass cells along one wall, cabinets along two others, and a vid-screen along the fourth. Tables, chairs, and workstations were scattered about, with no seeming pattern.
Matron opened the first of the glass cell doors and directed Nina inside. There was no bed, no toilet, the floor was concrete, and all four walls were
glass. She pointed to the drain in the middle of the floor. "That's your toilet. Sleep wherever you want. You will not be given a blanket."
She turned to leave. "You will remain here to consider your disobedience. When I return, we will begin lessons on proper behavior and respect to your superiors."
She locked the door behind her and went to a workstation, typing something in quickly. On the vid-screen a line now read, "2 swats for disrespectful talk." And an audio tape began to play a woman's voice saying things like, "I will be obedient to the Masters," and "I will never speak unless spoken to."
Matron went up the cellar steps, closed and locked the door. Nina slumped into a corner of the cell and wondered how long it would take her to go crazy in this awful place.
***
Laricon and his council members had a meeting over breakfast to discuss the upcoming visit of the Martian Governor and his unexpected desire to purchase slave labor. Walker's report was that their inventory was quite low, owing to pressure from Command Security patrols in their suppliers' usual trolling spots.
Laricon suggested dipping into the currently assigned labor pool and then making up the deficit later, after the contract with Mars had been filled. Walker pointed out the retraining costs of such a proposal, and Laricon countered with the age-old supply and demand paradigm. Mars would pay through the nose.
Liebmann delivered reports that his forces were at peak fitness. And if an invasion of either East Shores or the Southern Continent was required, he had the manpower and gear to do it.
Laricon showed his pleasure, but reiterated his desire to bring Marsh of East Shores to heel and stage a bloodless coup on the Southern Continent.
Michael reported that his government agents on the Southern Continent were ready, while labor was being riled up against the Southern Continental Governor daily.
Other reports were made by the three other members of the council, stating that comestible and medical supplies and defense weaponry were completely stocked and ready for any contingency.
Laricon was satisfied.
"On to more pleasant matters," Laricon began. "Matron informs me that we have two confirmed pregnancies in the palace women. One is your Suze, Walker. Congratulations."
Walker grinned happily. "Thank you, sir."
"Think you can be satisfied with only Sally while Suze is away at The Farm?" Laricon teased.
"I'll make do, sir."
They all laughed. "Who's the other pregnant female, sir?" Liebmann asked. He'd had Crystal for nearly a year and she'd yet to bear fruit.
"Oh, one of the spares. A..." he consulted his notes, "a Betty."
"Oh!" Michael, blurted, surprised. That was the girl he'd decided to take for his own.
"Thinking maybe the brat is yours, O'Malley?" Roberto said with a sneer.
"Not really." He'd been quite cautious that way. "I had just hoped to make her my consort."
"Blasted shame, eh boy?" Laricon blustered.
"Yes, sir."
"If that's all, men," Laricon said, "Roberto and I have plans for the afternoon. Good day to you."
The men rose and bowed to Laricon, then left the briefing room to attend to their own business. Michael went directly to the women's enclave. He still had to choose a consort or face Laricon's wrath.
Matron met him at the door this time, bowing him in with breasts bared as usual. The bang-girls in the corners, absent last night, knelt as well.
"As you were," he said immediately. "It seems I have something of a dilemma, Matron."
"Yes, sir? How can I help?"
"The girl I'd decided upon for my consort is apparently pregnant."
"Ohhhh," she said, nodding. "You mean Betty."
"Yes," he caught himself starting to pace and stopped. "The Great Man required me to fulfill this obligation today, so… What have you got?"
Matron smiled, her little bird eyes lighting up. "I have two lovely, obedient girls that would suit you perfectly, sir. Wait while I get them."
He paced a little, hearing splashes and giggles from the women's bathing pool.
Matron returned with two young women in tow. They both bared their breasts and knelt before him. One was a petite strawberry blonde, her breasts small and upthrust. The other a lanky girl with ash blonde hair and moderate, round breasts.
"Do you have a suggestion, Matron?"
She considered for a moment. "Stand up, Alyssa," she ordered, and the strawberry blonde rose. "Drop your robe so that the Master can inspect you."
Alyssa blushed very prettily and dropped her robe.
Michael cupped her chin. "Look up at me, girl."
She did, showing him deep brown eyes and a sweetly tipped up nose with a slight scattering of freckles.
"You're tiny," he pointed out. "How old are you, Alyssa?"
"Nineteen, sir," she replied, her voice gentle and soft.
"Matron, I'm almost twice her age," he said, taking a step back.
"That is desirable, sir," Matron advised. "Turn around, Alyssa."
Alyssa did a slow turn, and Michael couldn't help but admire her perfect little body. Small but very well proportioned. He was just a little afraid he'd break her. He was not only nearly twice her age but about twice her size. What was he thinking! This wasn't a real thing, like choosing a wife. This was just for a few days to keep Laricon off his back.
"I recommend her highly, sir. She's a Farm girl, well trained, obedient and respectful." Matron saw his hesitation. "But if you'd rather look closer at Linda," she said, gesturing to the ash blonde nearby.
Michael just wanted to get out of there before he got any more rattled. "No, no, Matron. I'm sure Linda is terrific. But Alyssa will do."
The young woman turned around and offered him a great big sweetheart of a smile. "Thank you, Master!"
"Alyssa," Matron scolded. "Speak only when spoken to."
Alyssa immediately knelt down, her head bowed, but that big smile remained on her face.
Michael's lips turned up. "Well then, uh, it's a deal." He turned to leave.
"When shall I send her to you, sir?" Matron called, rushing to catch up with his long strides.
"Oh…" He stopped. "I don't know."
"I could have her ready in an hour sir, or less if you're in a hurry."
"No. I have an … appointment this afternoon. Can it wait until later tonight?"
Matron nodded. "Of course, sir! I'm sure you'll find her very pleasurable. We've taught her all the necessary skills of course, and with a little experience–"
He waved her away and stepped over to the door, the conversation making him uncomfortable. "I'm sure you have, Matron. I'm sure you have." He called over his shoulder as he left, "I'll see you later, Alyssa!" and heard a giggle as the doors closed behind him.
"What have I done?" he muttered.
"Sir?" one of the guards said.
"I don't want any women, and now suddenly I'm responsible for two!" Michael said, as much to himself as anyone around him.
The guard nodded sagely. "Ain't that the way it works, sir. Ain't that the way."
Chapter 8
"I will never show disrespect to the Masters again," Nina muttered.
Matron smacked her across the backside with a wide smooth paddle, leaving a darker stain of red where the paddle marks were accumulating. "Speak up, Nina!"
It had started with two strokes for being impertinent to Matron earlier in the day, then eight or nine because Nina wasn't putting her all into her replies and a few more for Nina's colorful language as well. The guard who held her arms down across the table top seemed entirely impassive to her cries and cringes.
"I will never show disrespect to the Masters again!" Nina said in full voice.
"Better," Matron said, rubbing her dry hand over Nina's burning flesh. "Now obedience."
"I will be obedient at all times," Nina supplied.
"Very good. And subservience."
Nina cringed, her teeth grinding together at being forced to say the
hateful words. "I will serve the Masters in all ways required."
Matron smacked her rear again, and Nina squealed. "With enthusiasm!"
"But Matron, I don't feel enthusiastic about serving the Masters. This is all a great big fucking misogynistic circus!"
Another whack. Nina was biting her lips to keep from crying. Her rear felt like it was being barbequed. "All right! I will serve the Masters in all ways required!" She turned her head and saw Matron purse her lips in annoyance.
"Martin, bring the girl to the teaching chair."
The guard released Nina's hands and brought her to a chair that was bolted to the floor. He secured her wrists to the arms of the chair, and her ankles to the legs. The chair faced the vid-screen squarely.
Matron went to a workstation and typed, and soon the vid-screen was lit by images of smiling Lariconese women kneeling in obeisance, smiling Lariconese women hand-feeding men their dinner, and similarly smiling Lariconese women lying back on beds or giving the men head. The loop lasted about twenty minutes and then replayed. While Nina watched it through, Matron was setting up a box nearby. At the end of the first loop, Matron approached Nina and passed a dry-cold pack over Nina's nipples.
Small harsh clips with wires were attached to those protruding buds. Nina groaned at the hard squeeze.
Matron knelt down between Nina's legs and attached a similar clip to each side of Nina's vulva. It felt awful and Nina was getting scared that something damaging was going to happen.
Matron stood up and indicated the vid-screen. "Nina, as you watch you will repeat the seven women's virtues we've been discussing today. If you don't say them fast enough or correctly, you will feel a very unpleasant shock. Like this." She pressed a button.
Nina screamed and arched in the chair as an electric current passed through her sensitive tissues.
Breathless after the agonizing shock, Nina started mouthing the 'virtues' as fast as she could. Another horrible shock sent her reeling and tore a scream from her lips. She started to cry.
"You must say them in correspondence to the vids, Nina," Matron explained again.
"Yes, Matron," Nina breathed. She was more careful with her recitation for the next several minutes, then stumbled. "Noooo!" she screamed as a third lightning bolt blasted through over-stimulated nerve endings.
Laricon's Ways Page 7
