Enslaved

by Evangeline Anderson

  “I’m your responsibility the same way your other pets are. Is that right?” he growled, finishing her sentence for her. “Only I bet none of your other pets ever had this problem.”

  “Is it a problem? What’s wrong?” She looked at him uncertainly with those large, dark eyes.

  Thrace groaned. “Damnit, Trin—”

  “Captain Trin or Mistress,” she reminded him severely.

  “I’m not calling you Mistress because I’m not a fucking slave,” Thrace growled. “And the problem is you’re wearing that little nothing of a nightdress that shows all your sweet flesh and touching me all over. How the hell am I supposed to keep from getting hard?”

  “Is it painful?” She looked with concern at his throbbing shaft. “And are you actually saying I caused it? How?”

  “Because you’re fucking gorgeous,” Thrace exploded. “And you’re touching me with those soft little hands. I know your people don’t have many dealings with males but that much ought to be obvious.”

  “So…you find me attractive?” She looked disturbed. “I thought the Havoc didn’t care for females.”

  “We don’t bond with them—doesn’t mean we don’t bed them.” Thrace narrowed his eyes at her. “I haven’t been with a female in months and I can’t even get a hand free to relieve myself. Then you come in here dressed like some kind of a sex goddess and expect me not to react? It’s fucking torture.”

  “I…didn’t realize.” Trin put the damp cloth back in the bowl of water and stared at his shaft with concern. “I’m sorry, Thrace—I had no idea you felt this way. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Would it have done any good?” he demanded.

  “I…don’t know.” She sounded uncertain. “I’m not sure what…but you’re saying that looking at me is what made you, uh, hard?”

  “Painfully fucking hard,” Thrace assured her. “You probably don’t know this but males are very visual. Seeing your sweet creamy flesh exposed like this is more than I can stand. I can’t stop thinking about it—about you—even when you’re out of the room.”

  “Thinking about me?” She sounded both disturbed and maybe just a touch intrigued. “Thinking of doing what to me?”

  “What do you think?” Thrace was beyond exasperated. Could even a female who had never dealt with males before be this oblivious? “I fantasize. Fantasize about caressing your soft skin…tasting those ripe nipples I see pressing against your nightdress…”

  “You—” Trin looked down and quickly pulled her robe tighter around herself. Still Thrace couldn’t stop.

  “I imagine tasting you lower too. Spreading your thighs and taking my time, lapping your pussy with my tongue until you moan and pull my hair. I want to feel your juices all over my face…want to feel you quivering against my mouth.”

  “I…I don’t…I wouldn’t…” She crossed her legs involuntarily.

  “And finally,” Thrace continued recklessly. “After you’d come all over my face half a dozen times, I’d take you.”

  “Take me?” She frowned. “Take me where? How do you mean?”

  “I mean I’d fuck you. Penetrate you.” He was hard as a rock now, nearly crazy with need as he looked at her exposed flesh and spoke aloud what he’d been dreaming of doing for so long. But his final words seemed to shut something down in Trin. Something that might possibly have been growing between them even if it was without her knowledge.

  “Impossible,” she said crisply. “I have never been penetrated and I never will be. Especially not by a male.”

  “I suppose being penetrated is beneath you, coming from Zetta Prime,” Thrace growled.

  “Some daughters of Zetta Prime allow it—but only with each other,” Trin said primly. “But penetration is reserved for one you love so truly and deeply you wish to form a life-bond with her—and swear to never be apart again. And if I did find someone I cared for that way, I can promise you this—I would be the one doing the penetrating. Not the other way around.”

  “Well, there’s a scenario I’m not likely to fantasize about,” Thrace growled. “I’m not up for being penetrated either—not even by a female as gorgeous as you.”

  “It seems you’ll have to restrict yourself to tamer fantasies,” Trin remarked. “Not that you ought to be…” She cleared her throat and her cheeks flushed a bit. “Ought to be fantasizing about me in the first place.”

  “Why? Because I’m your ‘slave’ or because I’m male?” Thrace demanded. “Look, I can’t help what I think—not when you run around half dressed like that. Will you at least uncuff one of my hands so I can take care of myself?”

  “So you can…” A deeper blush came into her creamy cheeks. “Oh, I see.”

  “Just one hand.” Thrace lowered his voice, coming dangerously close to pleading. “That’s all I need.”

  “It only took you one hand to do this.” Trin put her fingertips to the fading bruises around her neck.

  “Would it help if I said I was sorry for that? I never meant to hurt you. I was in the grip of a dream—a nightmare. I thought you were—” He stopped abruptly, clamping his jaw shut.

  “You thought I was who?” Trin stared at him shrewdly, her lovely eyes narrowed. “Someone who hurt you? Your old Master, perhaps?”

  “Never mind,” Thrace said tightly. “Doesn’t matter who I thought you were. What matters is if I knew you were a female, I never would have tried to strangle you. The Havoc don’t hurt females—we’re like the Kindred that way.”

  “You’re like them in lots of ways,” she said, letting his nightmare go to Thrace’s great relief. “In fact, I don’t see any difference except the fact that you don’t bond with females. But I can understand why you don’t—the slaver said your kind live longer if you don’t bond.”

  “That’s not the reason we don’t bond,” Thrace said, glad to change the subject. “The real reason has to do with our history—our heritage. We actually were Kindred at one time—the father of our race was, anyway. Until he changed his DNA.”

  “He what?” Trin settled on the side of his cot, her eyes wide with interest. “Why would he do that?”

  “He was trying to eradicate his need to bond with a female.” Thrace was glad to tell her—glad to talk about anything but his past. “You see, his bride had left him for another and he was bitter and angry about it.”

  “What? But if they were bonded—”

  “She was one of the unbondable—a Y’lyn. They are females of surpassing beauty but they’re half demon and have no soul. You can’t form a soul-bond with a being who has nothing to bond with. So when she tired of him, she left. And Havoc—that was his name— Kern Havoc—swore to rid himself and all his descendants of the need to bond with a female which is the Kindred’s most singular trait.”

  “And did he?” Trin was hanging on his words, plainly very interested.

  “Not completely,” Thrace admitted. “He managed to wipe out our ability to dream share—that is, for our minds to align with the female who is supposedly perfect for us. The one who is chosen by the ‘Goddess.’” He sneered at the idea.

  Picking up on his tone, Trin frowned.

  “You talk about the Goddess as though you don’t believe in her. My people certainly do.”

  “I don’t,” Thrace said grimly. “After the life I’ve led…the things that have happened…if there is an all powerful Goddess somewhere controlling things, she’s got a hell of a lot to answer for.”

  “So now you and all the other descendants of Kern Havoc stay away from females unless you have the urge to mate?” She nodded at his shaft, which had gone down some as they talked of other things. “Like animals?”

  Thrace gave her a fierce grin.

  “Exactly like animals. Does that make you feel better about chaining me up like a naughty pet?”

  Trin stiffened and sat up straighter.

  “I didn’t chain you up for piddling on the carpet or tearing up the furniture. I chained you up because you proved yourself
to be dangerous.”

  “And you haven’t given me a chance to prove otherwise,” Thrace challenged her.

  “What would you do if I let you up?” she demanded. “Run away? Or worse, try to take over my ship? Kill my crew or turn them off onto a desolate waste planet?”

  “I told you—I don’t hurt females,” Thrace growled.

  Trin shook her head in disbelief.

  “I can’t risk it, no matter what you say. I fear no male but I’d be a fool not to have a healthy respect for anyone of your size and obvious physical strength.”

  “Would it do any good to swear to you that I wouldn’t hurt you?” Thrace demanded. “I’ll take an oath on anything or anyone you want—even your precious Goddess. Then would you take the word of a slave? A male?”

  “Not likely,” she shot back. “The daughters of Zetta Prime don’t trust males any more than you Havoc trust females.”

  “So I’m stuck.” Thrace couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. “How long will you keep me chained to this damn cot? How will I ever earn your trust if you don’t let me up?”

  “Easy.” Her eyes flashed. “Tell me what happened to your last master.”

  So they were back to that. Back to his past. Back to the filthy memories he couldn’t quite seem to bury again.

  “No,” he said flatly, glaring at her.

  “Thrace…” Her voice softened. “I just want the truth. I need to know what happened. If you’d just tell me honestly—”

  “If I told you honestly about my past, you’d be twice as horrified and scared of me as you are now,” he snapped.

  Trin’s eyes widened but she spoke in a low, steady voice.

  “I’m not scared of you.”

  Thrace gave a harsh laugh. “If you weren’t, you’d let me go.”

  “That’s not why you’re still in manacles and you know it,” Trin snapped. “I’m not unchaining you until I find out what you did to your last master. I want the truth, Thrace. Otherwise, I’ll never be able to trust you.”

  He shifted restlessly.

  “Then I guess you’ll never trust me and I’ll spend the rest of my life chained to this damn bed.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like this,” Trin said softly…almost coaxingly. “Please, Thrace…” She put a hand on his bare chest but he jerked away from her—as much as he could, anyway.

  “I’m done talking about this. Fuck you.” He turned his eyes to the wall, refusing to look at her. He’d be damned if he unearthed the pain and shame of the past just to satisfy her morbid curiosity. She might hold the key to his body but his mind was still his own and it was damn well going to stay that way.

  “Fine,” Trin said crisply, withdrawing her hand. She sounded slightly hurt. He hadn’t flinched from her touch in days. In fact, he’d come to look forward to it. But Thrace felt he couldn’t stand it now—couldn’t stand to be held down one more second. And yet here he was, still chained to this fucking cot. It was more than he could bear.

  “If that’s the way you want to be, you can forgo the bath until I get back,” Trin said when he didn’t speak.

  “Don’t do me any favors,” Thrace snarled, glaring up at her. “I’m only a pet anyway. Just leave me here in my fucking kennel and go.”

  Trin’s lush lips narrowed to a thin line but she didn’t reply to his remark. Instead, with quick, economical movements, she tucked his shaft away and fastened his trousers. Then she picked up the basin of now cold water, turned and left him to brood silently in the tiny room which was his prison.

  * * * * *

  Trin didn’t know why she was so upset. Why should she let anything the big Havoc said get to her? He was rude and crude and clearly uncivilized. And the things he’d said he fantasized about doing to her…

  Just thinking of them made Trin blush. She considered herself a fairly worldly person but she’d never heard sexual desire stated so bluntly. If another female had spoken so to her…but no, a female wouldn’t have. Not one from Zetta Prime, anyway.

  Sex on her home planet was highly ritualized with social protocols which had to be followed for even the most minute relationship advancements. A pair of females beginning a courtship might take five months before they felt ready to hold hands and another five before the first kiss could be ceremoniously given and accepted. Years might pass before a declaration of love and fidelity was made and even more years before any kind of penetration.

  That made her think again of the long, hard shaft between Thrace’s muscular legs. She’d never seen it grow so big before—it almost reminded her of her stallion, Swift when he was eager to mount Silk.

  For a moment she had nearly offered to help him…although in what way she could help she didn’t really care to speculate. She certainly wasn’t going to climb aboard him and allow him to penetrate her as Swift penetrated Silk—a phenomenon she’d observed once or twice in the course of her time as their owner.

  Oh yes, she’d seen penetration before—she’d simply never equated the idea with herself. Not as the one being penetrated, anyway. When two females on Zetta Prime made a life-pact with each other and agreed to penetration, they generally used slim, silver wands which were made for that exclusive purpose. One of the females was the penetrator and one the penetratee. Trin had sometimes wondered what the silver wand might feel like—even though she knew in her heart she could never allow herself to be penetrated.

  But a silver wand no bigger than two of her fingers was one thing. She couldn’t even imagine trying to fit something the size of Thrace’s shaft inside herself. Just the thought made her feel hot and cold and wrong all over. The daughters of Zetta Prime did not do such things—not with males. It was forbidden…disgusting. Wasn’t it?

  Of course it is, she told herself firmly. That fact had certainly been drummed into her head often enough, during the sexual instruction classes she had been given at the temple of the Goddess of Judgment. Even now Trin could hear the voice of the greater priestess who taught the class…

  Disgusting…evil…allowing a male to penetrate you would damn you forever. As a Defiled One, your shame would never end. You must never, never let a male come near you in that way. Never!

  But despite the voices from her past, Trin couldn’t seem to get the memory of his large, hard shaft out of her mind. She supposed she might have taken him in hand and helped him in the way he’d wanted to help himself. Only Trin got the idea that the big Havoc didn’t want to be touched sexually—not while he was tied down. No matter what he might say to her, she somehow knew he wouldn’t welcome such contact while he was helpless.

  And yet…the thick ridge of flesh had been almost throbbing with need—a painful need if what Thrace said was true.

  Why should I believe anything he says is true? she asked herself. Everything out of his mouth is probably just a lie.

  If that’s so, why didn’t he just lie about his old master? whispered a little voice in her brain. Why not just say he died of old age, or that he sold Thrace away for fighting with the other slaves? Why not just make up any plausible sounding lie he thought might appease you?

  He could have done that, Trin admitted to herself reluctantly. He could have but he didn’t. Instead, he refused to answer. He left me to draw my own conclusions, even though he knew they were bound to be bad. Even though it meant he had to remain chained to the cot. Why?

  She had no answers. The big Havoc was an enigma—as well as a constant source of concern and contention among the crew. They didn’t like having a male aboard—much less a huge, dangerous one. Only that morning, Sidna had approached her about the idea of simply letting him go…

  “I know the Havoc was a major investment for you and the idea was to be able to deal with the high society on Yonnie Six with him at your back but it’s simply not working out,” she’d said earnestly. “I hear the two of you talking sometimes and he’s not getting any more tractable.”

  “At least he’s speaking,” Trin said defensively. “I’ll bring
him around eventually, Sidna. He may be male but he’s intelligent—not stupid or primitive like we were raised to believe.”

  Sidna shook her head. “He’s dangerous,” she said flatly. “And if he’s as intelligent as you say, that makes him even more dangerous. We need to let him go before he figures out a way to get loose and kills us all in our sleep. Not that anyone aboard can sleep knowing there’s a huge, psychotic male strapped down to a cot just around the corner from them.”

  “He’s not psychotic—he’s perfectly lucid and sane,” Trin defended.

  “I’m just telling you how the crew feels,” Sidna said. “And seeing those bruises on your neck isn’t reassuring anyone either.”

  “That was an accident,” Trin said.

  “No, that was a warning.” Sidna’s voice dropped into a pleading tone. “Look, Lonarra,” she said, using Trin’s first name as she almost never did. “I’m begging you—for your own safety and the safety of the whole crew, let’s just let him go. Just stop at some busy spaceport or inhabited planet and drop him off. Then he’s off our hands and out of our lives forever.”

  “I…” For a moment Trin had almost considered the idea. After all, despite the many conversations she’d had with Thrace, the big Havoc refused to call her mistress or swear any kind of loyalty. At this rate, she’d never be able to unchain him—let alone walk into a Yonnie Six gathering with him at her back.

  He also refused to tell her what had happened to his last master—a matter which troubled her greatly. But the idea of letting him go and never seeing him again bothered her for some reason. The universe was vast—if she set him down in a busy spaceport or a hospitable planet as Sidna suggested, the odds were a trillion to one on her ever seeing him again.

  “Well?” Sidna had asked, a touch of exasperation in her voice.