Laricon's Ways

by Patricia Green

  He hung his head as the moment of weakness passed, then withdrew himself.

  Nina watched his expression harden, as if with a will. And when his eyes met hers, there was a message there.

  "Thank you, sir," she said, correctly interpreting the change in him.

  "Good girl," he said, patting her on the belly. "Now get dressed. It's time for you to go."

  Michael opened the chamber door, utterly unconcerned about his nudity. Matron immediately fell to her knees at the doorway and bared her tired breasts.

  "Rise up, old girl." Michael's voice was harsh. "Take her back to the enclave," he said, gesturing to Nina. "I think you'll find her somewhat more passive. She's begun to realize that punishments can be more than pain. And she's learning that she must beg for kindnesses, not just assume they're hers to take."

  Matron nodded and Nina tamped down the furious comments that came to her. She pulled on the gray garment roughly and followed Matron back to the women's enclave.

  She was beginning to wonder if she'd only been hallucinating any compassion at all in Michael.

  ***

  Michael moved his drained body from the mirrored guest chamber to his own chamber at the other end of the long hallway. He didn't know how much Laricon had watched through the two-way mirror. Perhaps the old man hadn't the patience to stay through the whole afternoon. It didn't much matter. Michael felt used, and worse, he felt sorry for using Nina.

  He vowed that he'd take some time off after this assignment was over. It had been almost nine years since he'd really taken a break. Maybe he could make it up to Nina somehow, though he knew she'd scoff at the offer.

  Nevertheless, there was something between them. Something inexorable. If he could just get through this mission, maybe he could coax her into exploring it with him. Maybe.

  He drained a few glasses of strong wine from the decanter in his room and ordered a guard to fetch his dinner. He brooded and drank and ate, and sat in the chair by his small round table in the shadows, thinking about his life. A life of duty.

  A knock on the door startled him. His voice was gruff. "Who is it?"

  "Matron, sir. I've brought Alyssa."

  "Oh, shit," he mumbled, raking a hand through his thick dark hair. He got up, more wobbly than he'd like to be. He'd probably drunk too much wine, damnit. Alyssa and Matron stood in the doorway for a second, then dropped to their knees.

  "I've changed my mind about tonight, Matron," he started, trying to modulate the slur out of his voice.

  "Very well, sir," Matron responded, rising and pulling Alyssa up with her.

  Alyssa looked up at him, obviously disappointed.

  "No. Wait," he grumped. "Come on in, Alyssa."

  Matron beamed and patted Alyssa's shoulder. "Be a good girl for the Master, Alyssa. I'll see you in the morning."

  "Yes, Matron." Her voice was more child-like than Michael remembered, but he knew he was a little drunk.

  Alyssa's eyes roved around the room discreetly as Michael moved back to the table and his wine. It was a masculine room, smelling of spicy shaving soap and clean sweat. The bed was large, the light over the simply carved ebony headboard the only one illuminating the room. Creamy linens and numerous pillows looked soft and inviting and the rust colored comforter thick and fluffy.

  Overall, although she was unsure of the man, the situation wasn't so bad. She'd had a few words with Betty in the afternoon and knew that Master Michael was kind and even generous. Right now, however, he looked sulky and dark. And he was a very big man. Alyssa was going to make sure she never angered him, that was a certainty!

  "I'm sorry I don't have another chair to offer you," he said. His voice was deep and rich.

  "I have simple needs, sir," she replied, sitting on the floor at his feet.

  He snorted. "If so, Alyssa, then you're the only one in this crazy place." He petted her soft strawberry hair, and she leaned back against his legs. They sat there quietly in the semi-dark for what seemed like a long time. Alyssa heard him refill his glass several times, but he said nothing. His big warm hand in her hair was enough communication, she supposed.

  Eventually though, he stopped stroking her hair. "Go get in bed," he mumbled.

  She stood and removed her robe, folding it carefully and putting it at the foot of the bed. She crawled into the big bed and drew the comforter over her chilly body. It was just as luxurious as it had seemed. She sighed with pleasure.

  "Comfortable?" he asked, rising unsteadily from his chair.

  "Oh yes, sir!" she enthused.

  He struggled with the sash of his robe for a moment, cursing it, but finally defeated it, leaving the robe on the floor where it fell. He went into the adjoining lavatory and Alyssa could hear him running water for a while.

  When he came out, his hair was wet and combed. His face was beard-stubbled on the cheeks above his goatee, but he smelled clean and soapy.

  She shifted in the bed as he climbed up beside her. He adjusted the covers and turned out the light. To Alyssa's surprise, he simply pulled her against him and wrapped an arm around her with a deep sigh.

  She hesitated for a moment, then began to rub her small hand around his chest and down his belly. But his hand covered hers and held her still.

  "No. Just sleep, honey," he murmured against her hair.

  Confused but obedient, Alyssa snuggled into his hard-muscled, warm side, and closed her eyes.

  Michael woke with his head pounding in sync to someone pounding on the door. The room was still dark; it was very late. He reached up for the light and Alyssa stirred next to him, her eyes opening sleepily.

  The knocking resumed. Michael got out of the bed, muttering profanities, and put on his robe. "On my way!"

  He opened the door to find Laricon there, as well as Nina, who immediately dipped down to a proper obeisance.

  "Hello, Michael!" Laricon oozed, smiling fatuously. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything." He stepped into the room, pulling Nina up with him. Alyssa immediately came to her knees on the bed, bowing as best she could. "Whoops! I see we did."

  Michael saw Nina look to Alyssa, tousled, naked, and adorable on the bed, to Michael and back again. Her expression was bitter.

  "Well, sir… it is late," Michael began, his stomach sinking. Laricon knew what he'd find when he came tonight. This was obviously his cruel way to ensure that Nina would feel no attachment to Michael, despite their time together.

  Laricon laughed. "I'd have thought you would be exhausted after that command performance in the guest quarters. Roberto and I were enthralled."

  Nina's face went ashen. Michael had to work very hard not to wring Laricon's neck.

  The old man approached the bed and tilted Alyssa's face up at the chin. "Fine choice, my boy. Young. Fresh-faced." He addressed Alyssa. "Were you Farm-raised, girl?"

  She nodded. "Yes, sir."

  Laricon walked away smiling. "An excellent example of the kind of product we can turn out when given decent stock to work with."

  Michael stuffed his hands in the pockets of his robe to hide his tingling fists. "Was there something you needed, sir?"

  "Hm? Oh, now what was it?" Laricon paused and wrinkled his nose. "Smells like a brothel in here."

  Knowing full well it didn't, Michael pushed his patience to the limits.

  "Oh yes! I wanted to congratulate you on the strides you made with my girl today. I may have to put you with Edward so that you can write up a proper training regimen for the palace women." He gestured to Nina who, gray-faced, was staring at the floor. "Certainly, you've got her wrapped around your little finger."

  Michael smiled his best sheepish smile, gritting his teeth. "I think I just knew what buttons to push, sir. We did have some history together, albeit brief."

  "Yes, well, denying her orgasms was a master stroke, boy. Genius! I'll be using that often in the future, of course."

  Michael could see Nina's shoulders sagging.

  "As you like, sir. But of course, Nina is a ver
y bright girl and caught on pretty quickly to the subtleties," he tried. Perhaps Nina would understand what he really meant.

  Her demeanor didn't show it. She still sagged and looked thoroughly defeated. Damn the old man and his perverse games anyway!

  "Wish you were my son, Michael. What a team we'd be! Not like that sop Roberto. What a disappointment," he sighed. The silence in the room was awkward. "Well, I just thought we'd take a moment to drop by. Sorry to have disturbed you. I'm a night owl and sometimes forget that not everyone else is!" He pulled Nina to the door, but paused in the doorway for one final pointed remark.

  "Perhaps sometime we can arrange for your Alyssa and my Nina to get together and entertain us both, eh my boy?"

  Nina choked down a sob, but Michael and Laricon were near enough to hear. Laricon smiled demonically.

  "In a few weeks, sir," Michael said, knowing very well the operation would be long over by then. He hoped Nina would understand that, too.

  "Of course. You need to get your fill of the girl yourself. Understand completely," Laricon gushed as Michael moved to close the door. "Night, boy."

  "Good night, sir," Michael said tightly.

  Chapter 9

  For the next few days, the council and Laricon were quite busy preparing for the visit from Martian Governor Nate Wallis. The Martian ambassador arrived two days before the Governor and had to be settled in proper housing. Servants had to be advised of appropriate Martian protocols, and the ambassador was given the choice of several Farm-raised girls to serve his pleasures. The ambassador's wife, a very properly raised Earth woman, wasn't aware of the girls, of course. That was an arrangement strictly between the free men of Laricon and the ambassador himself.

  The ambassador's staff, however, brought from Mars to deal with sensitive matters, were quite enthusiastic about Laricon. Especially the men. The two women staffers found having personal "maids" to be nice, but slightly uncomfortable.

  Finally, the day of the Governor's arrival dawned. Michael woke with the sunrise and looked down at the tousled head on his chest. He stroked Alyssa's hair and she stirred. Each night Matron brought her, and each night when Michael returned to his chamber after long strategy meetings and longer days, she was there, curled in his bed, waiting his pleasure.

  She never complained. Never asked for anything more than the exhausted cuddling he shared with her before dropping off into heavy slumber. But he figured she must be wondering why he'd never taken his pleasure with her. As a matter of record, he was wondering it himself. It was expected of him, after all. It was the Lariconese way to enjoy women's bodies without further concern. Certainly, he'd done it several times during this assignment already, owing to Laricon's proclivity toward sex parties and, a few times, just because Michael was simply too horny to ignore it.

  Still, it was a source of irritation that when he looked at Alyssa, he saw someone not-Nina. Nina, who no doubt hated him through-and-through, and who could blame her?

  His heavy sigh brought Alyssa more fully awake. She looked up at him and smiled drowsily. She was a sweet-faced creature, and so devoted.

  "You're a good girl, Alyssa," he said.

  She basked in the praise. "I only wish to please you, sir."

  He touched her cheek and she rubbed it into his palm like a cat to be petted. "You do please me."

  "Then I am happy, sir."

  She was warm and soft against his side, and he couldn't help the blood that filled his staff.

  He directed her little hand down his belly to that hardness, and she looked up at him, her eyes shining as if she'd been given a great prize.

  He felt like a jerk, but it was too late. Her hand felt wonderful on him and there was no turning back.

  Afterward, Alyssa helped him dress in a formal uniform, her thighs pleasantly sore from riding him. He had given her her first real orgasm, and her body was still reeling at the incredible feeling. She had been concerned that something about her displeased him, but now she was relieved. He was a very kind Master, the type a girl would dream about at The Farm. She vowed to do her very best to please him, hopefully bearing his children and earning his respect. Matron said that it usually took at least a month of coupling before a consort could get pregnant. Alyssa started counting from today.

  Dressed and groomed perfectly, Michael kissed Alyssa on the forehead. "I'll see you tonight, but it will be different, honey. You understand that, right?"

  "Yes, sir." He was referring to the late-night fête the Great Man was throwing for the Martian Governor. All the consorts would be there, as well as well-trained Farm-raised women chosen to impress and delight the governor. Alyssa was awfully glad that she'd had the opportunity to learn a little about Michael's big body before tonight. It would give her something to work with when she was expected to perform.

  He sighed deeply. "Good girl." A day of formal posturings and negotiations lay ahead.

  ***

  The governor was desperate for workers, he told Laricon and the council members. His colony's economy was dwindling. No one wanted to live on Mars, though he couldn't understand why. He'd tried to make it an interesting, homey place – within the domes. People just couldn't seem to get over that awful war. Those workers who had lived through the uprising were either in labor camps on Earth working off long sentences for sedition, or had moved away as fast as they could, looking for a place that wasn't war-torn and constantly under surveillance.

  The Solarian Federation had lightened up on their military surveillance a couple of years ago, but it was taking people far too long to resettle on Mars. Governor Wallis needed exportable products now or his economy was going to be in the toilet pretty quick. Laricon's "staffing services" seemed the only solution. He liked to think of it as a "boost" just to get things rolling. After that, well, people would find Mars and its industry much more interesting. Businesses would move there, and bring the people who staffed those businesses. Eventually, the slave laborers could be offered small compensatory wages by the government, in turn for remaining on Mars.

  Of course, he reminded them, everything would have to be handled very carefully so that the Federation didn't get wind of it. No one wanted to end up in a prison dome – especially the Governor.

  The ambassador and Laricon's council assured him that, done properly, the deal would be sweetly covert. Wallis would have his industrial base and no one would be the wiser.

  Michael found dinner to be an awkward affair. The ambassador's wife was clearly discomfited by the way the Lariconese women served and fed the men. It was always this way with visitors' women. Michael had learned that humor and flattery would smooth things over, so he used it freely and encouraged Laricon and the other council members to do the same.

  "Damn glad the missus didn't come on this jaunt with me," the governor proclaimed as the girl next to him offered him his wine glass.

  "Of course she understands that not all cultures behave the same way, Governor," the ambassador's wife pointed out, trying to be as egalitarian under the circumstances as possible. She was being hand-fed by a pretty Lariconese woman as well.

  "Don't know if she's quite up to this though, Julia," the Governor said. He was a thin man with a pencil moustache and hound-dog eyes.

  The ambassador smoothed things over. "Of course she is, Governor. Why, just before I left she was talking about how nice it was going to be to have a few more fresh and pretty servants available to help around the Governor's Mansion."

  The governor laughed. "True enough. Can't find good help, she's always telling me."

  "We have excellent house-staff services," Michael said. "Have you found the maids helpful and eager to please, Julia?"

  Julia blushed. "Yes! Well, after a few awkward moments." She leaned in to speak in a stage whisper. "They were going to sleep at the foot of Donald's and my bed!"

  Everyone laughed.

  "Eager, well-trained girls, that's what we have here," Laricon beamed. "But the male laborers you need are also going to be t
rained to your specifications."

  The fact that slavery was involved went subtly uncommunicated over the dinner table.

  "I have no doubt about farm labor, but I still have some concerns about the more technical people we need," the Governor said. "The works you showed me earlier in the day were impressive, but the time it takes to train…"

  Ed Walker spoke up. "Oh, our methods are remarkably speedy, sir. You'll have transportation and mechanical staff practically before you know it."

  The governor nodded, appearing pretty much convinced.

  "But let's not discuss business over dinner and while this lovely lady is present," Laricon put in, referring to the Ambassador's wife.

  "And all your charming wives, too, Mr. Laricon," Julia said, tilting her head toward the other women who sat on the floor next to their men.

  Laricon laughed.

  Michael jumped in before a faux pas could occur. "Indeed, why bore anyone? Let's enjoy dessert and retire to finish our negotiations, right Mr. Laricon?"

  "Right you are, Michael my boy. Save the boring stuff for later." He chuckled.

  The governor and ambassador both went a little pink, but they covered pretty well and Julia didn't seem to notice. Or, if she did, she was smart enough not to show it.

  There were several hours of negotiations left to be done. After dinner the men excused themselves and Julia was escorted back to the ambassador's wing.

  The price for services was finalized, as was a delivery date for half the workers. The other half would be delivered over a period of time as they were trained. About twenty percent of the contract was for women, which made the governor delighted.

  "You'll see, Governor Wallis," he said. "After tonight, you'll probably want to order more!"

  The men laughed. "Lariconese women are like nothing else in the system," Michael said.

  "Yes, well, I don't think my wife'll like 'em sleeping at the foot of the bed."

  "Oh but you'll want to keep 'em close, Governor," Walker chimed in.