by I. Christie
"Would you like another, Mistress?" Sheila asked her politely with clear green eyes returning her stare without any malice or familiarity.
"I just did not recognize it for a moment." Harriet's hands gripped the edge of the bed disappointed more than she should be at the change in Sheila's voice. She distinctly remembered it as husky and sensuous and now it was as normal as any other voice. With the distance between them, her heart began to slow down and the hot flush that reddened her face, diminished.
Distance. Okay, I just need to keep a distance. "I'm looking for the controls for this thing," she mumbled awkwardly as she went back to looking for something to make the gurney move.
"It's already programmed for her quarters. You need to only follow it," Guardian suggested from a speaker in the room so that both could hear.
"Right. Of course, Guardian."
The two followed as the hovering gurney exited the infirmary and headed in the direction of the elevator. In the elevator, the gurney emitted an energy field protecting its cargo from any jolts. The ride in the elevator for Harriet was bearable as the unconscious figure and the energy field separated her from Sheila.
She cleared her throat, "So, Guardian…" she took a deep breath, "anything we need to worry about?"
"None. The appropriate people have been notified in the Collective and Committee space, the smugglers have began to vacate the premises; however, I still have some unwanted visitors and…Alan has two of his ships above. It is a waiting game, at this point."
"Hmm. I hope that means enough time to get in some down time," she muttered to no one in particular.
The gurney passed Harriet's quarters and at the next doorway, the door slid open to reveal a living space similar to her own. The artwork was different with the bedroom to the left instead of the right. They were going to be sharing the bathing room and toilet facilities. Harriet's heart fluttered at that discovery.
"Okay, we need to move her to the bed," Harriet said out loud, as if needing to fill in the quietness. Sheila moved before Harriet, and lifted Zohra from the gurney to the bed. The gurney left and the butler was there to take the discarded clothing as Harriet, assisted by Sheila, peeled the articles off her. In the low lighting, Harriet studied the scars scattered on the lean tattooed body. Some looked like she was lucky to be alive. One was recent and still pink. Her eyes widened at the sight of the gold nipple rings adorning her breasts. Harriet's eyes traveled down to her shaved mons and spied another glint of gold from a ring peering out between her labia.
Clearing her throat, she then took a deep breath. "Goddess, nine years is a long time to live under cover. Let's get her into the shower." She nodded towards Sheila, who seemed to have no problem lifting her. Harriet did not want to try, thinking she would surely drop her and not just because she was tired.
"I can't tell if she needs first aid or just a good scrub." Or how much of it is tattoos and dirt.
Easily, Sheila carried her in the direction Harriet indicated, pausing before stepping into the tropical bathing room. It was a sight to behold, Harriet agreed silently. The unconscious form of Zohra was set in the shower and both women stepped back as Ald moved forward to take over the business of cleaning, as it was programmed for. Harriet hands twitched, and she almost told the bot she would do it, but refrained. The Spartan reminded Harriet of a veteran gladiator that competed in the galaxy competitions.
Ahh, but she was once a celebrity athlete. No one would recognize her now, though. She felt a little sad at that. I guess that's the purpose of the face change. I wonder if when all this is finished, she'll want to have her old face back. A fleeting and wistful thought on her part. Who was that fem fatale that was hanging on her at the Academy? Will she return to her? Nine years is a long time to wait for someone. Right, Harriet. So why have you?
She took a deep breath at the realization that though she had fallen in love with Sharon, she would have had serious doubts about the relationship if Zohra appeared in her life…if they were still together.
Ald released the long black hair tied back in the traditional warriors club with a thin leather thong weaved through it. Ald checked for head wounds before washing the dark hair. After she was cleaned, Ald applied a gel that soaked quickly into the scared areas. The scars began to fade as the gel disappeared. A soft light glowed around her body for a few moments…and then Ald moved back.
Sheila picked up Zohra and Harriet trailed after her, watching her carefully deposit the unconscious Spartan in bed. Harriet studied the freshly scented and cleaned body. Pulling the covers over her, Harriet leaned close to her ear.
"Sweet dreams, Dancer."
A need she had not had since academy days reminded her of the dark nights when the twin moons were on the other side of the planet. It reached deep inside her awakening a profound ache to connect - and then the intensity lessened, settling to a dull throb.
Just what I need in my life at the moment. Another distraction.
"We…our quarters are this way," Harriet motioned back towards the bathingroom. She felt exhausted, and suspected it was not just physically. What to do with Sheila was going to have to be dealt with tomorrow. It occurred to her that Guardian said nothing about offereing Sheila a room of her own. The bathingroom door to her bedroom opened at her approach.
Guardian probably has it all figured out. Right now…a good eight hours rest is at the top of my list of things to do. Well, after something to eat and a soak to get rid of my soreness. I don't want to wake up barely able to move.
"Do you...are you hungry?" Harriet turned towards Sheila, surprised that her mouth was dry.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Do you have a food selection preference?"
"No, Mistress."
Harriet gave a slight twitch at the address. Mistress.
The kitchenette bot patiently waited.
"Two meals, light, Bach," Harriet ordered. Since the bot had picked her morning meal with efficiency, she expected it would be as proficient now.
"Would either of you care for a beverage?" Bach asked.
Sheila regarded the bot for a moment.
"I would like something that is good for sleep," Harriet mumbled as she stretched some of the stiffness from her back. She contemplated how her body felt now, trying to figure out how much the second skin was compensating for. In the fight, it had given her more energy and protection but now she felt drained. So, perhaps the second skin had limits. She was going to have to ask the Guardian more about the second skin. If it was using her own body's energy, then she was in actuality depleting her spare resources, which meant she would have to consider second wind as not something to depend on. Too much to think about right now.
"I will have the same."
"Have a look around," Harriet offered Sheila as she headed back into the bedroom to prepare for a quick shower. Let's see what she looks at. She seems harmless…and Guardian has regard for her so…
She plopped down in the chair and attempted to pull off her boots, giving up quickly when the effort was more than what she cared to give. The butler bot assisted with her undressing. After the removal of the second skin, her ribs were decidedly sore.
"Oh, bloody moon, what is this?" The butler had emptied her pockets, and utility pockets, laying what it found on the bed. Turning it over in her hand, she could not decide what it could be.
"Oh, yeah. It was jamming the floor cover. Hmm. Later. A puzzle when my brain isn't so tired." She laid it on the chair and headed towards the bathingroom.
***
*
In the shower, she decided that she was going to have to get Sheila to not call her Mistress. For some reason, it was aggravating her.
What's in a name, huh? It's not like I'm thin skinned. Helgas Moon! Some pretty nasty people have called me a lot of worse so what's the problem, Harriet? Mistress. Say it a few times. What is wrong with the word Mistress? It's something one calls a child, for one. Or, like master and slave. Oh, damn, that does it! The visions
of slave and master in an erotic setting had Harriet groaning with frustration. Even more maddening was the image was of her Dancer and herself.
Ald had a towel and robe ready for her as she stepped out of the shower just as annoyed as when she entered.
"Can you run the tub water and add something for bruises, Ald? I'll take a soak after I eat." You could ask...Sheila if she has any injuries or would like a shower. What will she wear after her shower...a robe. It will fit her. Gawds, I won't make it if she isn't covered.
"My very recommendation, Lt. Montran," he judiciously reported, breaking her train of thoughts.
Back in the bedroom, she sat in the chair, with her robe tucked around her trying to figure out what she was going to do about the sleeping arrangements, and fell asleep until Sheila's touch woke her.
"Your meal is ready, Mistress. Though your bios say you are tired, you do need nourishment."
Harriet blinked a few times, letting the image of the metradame become clearer.
"You can read bios." Harriet wearily rose. Great. Between Guardian and her I'm going to feel over scrutinized.
On the table was only one plate of prepared food. "Did you eat already?" Goddess, how long was I out?
"No, Mistress. I will eat when you have finished."
"I can use the company," Harriet forced a yawn to end. "I would rather we eat together, quite frankly, unless you prefer not to. Eating alone is…lonely," Harriet reiterated. "Do you have a name you would like to be called?"
The figure across the table from her paused as she was placing her plate on the table. "I don't know."
"I would like to see you have a say in your own life and..." Harriet yawned again..."selecting your own name is a good start." Very good, Harriet. Order her to not be your slave. I wonder if that is all there is to this? Helios fires, I gotta know more about these metrapeople. Guardian said he gave me access to his library. Tomorrow I'm going to have a lot of reading to do.
Hurriedly Harriet ate her meal before exhaustion overtook her. She wanted to soak in the tub. The idea of waking up sore and miserable when she had the option not to gave her the incentive to make the effort to soak. The second skin had kept the stiffness at bay but without it, she could feel her recent run-ins with a wall or two settling in her muscles. Thinking about the battering her body had been through, she was surprised that nothing was broken.
As Harriet rose from her finished meal, she waved the metradame back into her seat.
"Please. Finish your meal at your own pace. I'm going to soak a bit and then go to bed. All the facilities are at your disposal, also…so if you need a shower or soak...before you go to bed, you know where the facilities are." So, where did you decide Sheila is going to sleep? Not on the couch. The bed is rather big and can be made larger. She pushed the sexual feelings aside wearily. "We can share the bed until...until something else is worked out," Harriet offered. "That is, if you don't mind?"
"No, Mistress."
The smell of the herbs from the bath was calling to her and dealing with 'Mistress' would have to wait. A flush rose through her cheeks then quickly heated other areas as her eyes took in the metradame. Sheila could, for all intents and purposes, have simply been eating her dinner and looking up at Harriet for but a brief moment, but to Harriet, it was a seductive tilt of her head, an inviting smile that curved the sensuous mouth, and the eyes…green as the ocean on Emery…
Ohhh, goddess…I am in trouble here. "Until the butler supplies you with clothing of your own, we can share what's in the closet." She forced herself to breathe normally, "Maybe we can later get over to the City and pick up your belongings..." Harriet couldn't think of anything else to say so she turned and continued into the bathing room feeling foolish at the flush her body took on whenever she looked at the metradame...Sheila. She needed to remember that Sheila was a live person that someone had enslaved and not a bot.
The aroma from the steaming water was pleasant and promised a nice soak, followed, hopefully, by a very nice deep undisturbed sleep. Gratefully, she slid into the hot water.
Ahhhh. This is nice.
Sighing, she leaned her head back comfortably on the tubs padded rim, listening to the soothing music, and letting the bubbling waters massage her bruised body with herbal essences. Soon the sounds from the shower had her groaning with sexual frustration as she imagined how the water looked sloshing over the Sheila's body. Her memories of what the advertisements extolled about the sexual cleverness of the metradames did not help, which were quickly followed by the erotic images she had when Sheila had left her in the Spartan's quarters in search of her master, Lord Chaney.
Keeping her eyes closed, she moaned softly and wished her mind would shut off.
The shower ended.
Moments later, the water level in the tub rose as another body slid in.
"Mind if I join you, Mistress?" a throaty voice whispered near her ear.
Uh, oh.
Here her desire and morals parted company. Resisting was not an option at this point.
"No, I don't mind," her voice, husky with desire, whispered in reply. Harriet took in a shaky breath and then continued, not recognizing her voice. "I mean…do you remember…?"
"Yes, Mistress. Everything."
"Ah, umm."
"Does you shoulder hurt, Mistress?"
Harriet nodded, not daring to say anything more, least her voice betray her any further.
Sheila's hands rested firmly on Harriet's shoulders guiding her to turn around, facing away from her. Skilled hands kneaded sore shoulders, working out one sort of tension, replacing it with another. A groan nearly escaped Harriet's lips as the fingers unhurriedly worked their way down to the small of her back, sending small electrical charges up and down her spine. She was definitely aroused. Did she have the energy to rise to the occasion? What if Sheila were to strangle her when she was not expecting it? Too late to worry about that.
Sheila's hands slid in a slow arch from her back around to her breasts, cupping the soft white mounds, while her thumbs and forefingers pinched her nipples sending a sweet pain all the way to her yoni. Lips nibbled the back of her neck and Harriet arched her back, pushing against the woman, feeling the cushion of her soft breasts with hard nipples pressing back. Harriet turned in the metradame's embrace, her lips finding willing parted lips to explore, both groaning as their breasts touched.
After a long time had passed with both women discovering each other's pleasure points, Sheila picked Harriet up and carried her from the tub into their shared sleeping quarters.
Sheila's husky voice whispered in her ear what she was going to do to her. In response, Harriet groaned and latched her lips onto the woman's neck. Sheila deposited the dripping Harriet on the bed, straddling her hips to sit comfortably on her stomach. Harriet could swear she could feel Sheila's distended clitoris throbbing against her stomach.
"Romantic mood. The forests of Ameick. Summer. Warm breeze," Harriet whispered huskily. Maybe it isn't so bad wishing for something like this and getting it.
Sheila smiled, leaning over her as their surroundings changed. As Sheila leaned down to capture her willing lips, a beam of light filtering through the large redwood giants gave her a further breathtaking backdrop. Birds were chirping, squirrels chattering, and leaves were rustling in the small summer breeze that swept over both of them as two pairs of lips hungrily re-met. Harriet arched into the hand that grabbed her mons, tight enough to give a little bit of pain, as if to show possession. How long they spent wearing each out under the trees, she did not know. The last Harriet remembered was Sheila massaging her foot from a cramp she got while in the mist of their passion.
Sometime in the night, Harriet had awakened and stumbled in partial sleep to the toilet. A small light lit the way. When she had made her way back to bed the metradame was holding the covers open for her. Gratefully, Harriet snuggled up against Sheila, feeling her skin tingle at contact.
"I would like the name Carol, Mistress," she heard wh
ispered in her ear.
"Carol," she repeated sleepily. "That's a nice name."
***
Chapter 9
There were heavy cumulus clouds overhead. As she strained to see into the darkness that was moving quickly in their direction, she felt the atmosphere change. Small sparks were flying as her younger brother moved forward.
"Don't move!" their father warned.
Their guide had told them that it could happen, but probably not today. The sun was too bright. But it was happening! Movement in the atmosphere in combination with their electromagnetic body movements would set off small flashes that could incinerate their forms. Would the dark funnel also appear and pull them up into its whirling center?
"There, to the left!" Nanny called out.
