by Claudia Rose
With that, she gently touched her forehead with the tips of the fingers of one hand, then followed gracefully after Ghanjihi.
Bruce and Jenna stood in the empty room looking at each other. He shrugged his shoulders.
“I guess we go back to where we came from.”
He took her hand and they headed for the small chamber they had woken in. The room had changed dramatically. Two beds were made up for sleeping in and there was a rather bland print on the wall.
“It looks like a mid-price hotel room,” muttered Jenna.
That impression was reinforced when they opened a door that hadn’t been evident the last time they were in the room. Behind it was a small, absolutely authentic, earth bathroom, complete with Bruce and Jenna’s preferences in cosmetics and toiletries.
“Well you’ve got to hand it to the Reven,” remarked Bruce. “They’re certainly thorough. You can use it first if you want.”
It was the first time Jenna had been alone since this bizarre adventure had begun. To find a normal bathroom, complete with all her preferred brands of soap, toothpaste and cosmetics, was about as unnerving as anything she’d encountered.
They must have been observing me for weeks to know me so well. And where did they get everything? She giggled at the thought of the little alien fucks lurching through Wal-Mart, Longs Drugs or J.C. Penny’s in search of soap.
But wherever the soap came from, it was all good as far as she was concerned. The shower was the real thing and she wasted no time turning the water on. It gushed out at the perfect temperature, filling the little space with clouds of steam. For long minutes Jenna stood under the hot jet, luxuriating in the sensation, and shutting everything else from her mind. Then she scrubbed herself vigorously in an effort to wash herself clean of some of the degradation she had suffered. But she also felt surprisingly good. I wonder whether it is because of the controller chip? Or is it because I’ve got Bruce close by?
Although she had been relishing being alone, it suddenly occurred to her that there was probably no such thing as alone here—the Reven were doubtless spying on everything she did. That was enough to stop her lingering. As quickly as she could she got out of the shower, pampered herself and rejoined Bruce, trailing a cloud of scent.
Bruce was crouched down by the beds, and when she entered he looked up with an appreciative grin.
“Hey, you smell great, and look better. Look what I found. I almost didn’t tell you because I’m quite partial to the way you’re currently dressed, but I figure that if you put clothes on, at some stage you’ll have to strip out of them again, and maybe I’ll get to watch.”
Beneath the beds two small closets stood open. Each was filled with clothing. But the only garments were a number of identical sets of uniforms like the sort they trained in for competition.
“They must think we live in the things we train in,” Bruce observed. “If they’ve been watching us preparing for the ‘Worlds’ for the last few days, that’s probably all they’ve seen us in.”
Jenna picked out a lycra halter-top and bikini briefs.
“It’s not a designer outfit, but after what I haven’t been wearing for the last few hours, it will feel like I’m dressed for the opera.”
As she spoke, she slipped on the skimpy garments, settling the elastic round her breasts and buttocks with a saucy snap.
“I’ve got to say it Jenna, nobody ever looked better than you in lycra.”
“Why, Bruce, darlin, you say the nicest things,” she drawled in mock-Southern-Belle mode. “Am I correctly attired, sir?”
She pirouetted on the spot, her arms raised like a dancer.
“More than correctly, madam. The word stunning springs to mind. You look good enough to raise the dead—you’re certainly raisin’ me. I’d better take a cold shower, before the Reven read my thoughts and zap my brain!”
He disappeared into the little bathroom with alacrity, his half-developed erection swinging jauntily before him, and in a few moments Jenna heard the sound of water running.
“Fuck the Reven,” she cursed under her breath. She desired Bruce desperately and resented the fact that they were being forced to deny themselves. Dreamily she ran her hands up and down her body, fantasizing that she was in the shower with him, and he was soaping her sleek wet body. The idea made the cleft at the top of her thighs warm and moist, and its inner folds throbbed with unrequited desire. Still fantasizing, Jenna slipped her fingers inside the thigh band of the bikini briefs and located the sensitive nub nestling within the short blond curls that covered her mound. It wasn’t her masturbating, it was Bruce’s hand that was massaging her clit, probing between the swollen lips of her pussy, finding the hot moist depths within…
Suddenly Jenna heard the water stop running. Guiltily she pulled her hand away, as if Bruce might walk in at any moment and discover what she was doing.
Bruce, however, was too involved with his own thwarted desires to imagine that Jenna might also be feeling frustrated. The shower hadn’t cooled his passion, his cock was sensitive to the touch and his balls felt tight enough to explode. This was probably the most exquisite torture ever devised. The woman he had desired for years was through the door, they were going to be sleeping in the same room together, he wanted her and she wanted him, and there wasn’t a thing they could do about it without risking the mother of all headaches courtesy of a Reven controller chip.
For a brief moment Bruce’s face took on a granite aspect, his jaw jutted, and the mighty muscles in his arms and chests tensed, as he imagined getting his hands on a Reven and methodically ripping it to pieces.
But such expense of energy was wasted. He might as well go with the flow for now, but always on the lookout for some way to improve their situation. He finished using the bathroom and rejoined Jenna.
She had chosen a bed and was lying comfortably under the covers, waiting for him with a smile.
“Our first night together,” she said in greeting. “I don’t suppose it is actually what you imagined it might be.”
“Not entirely. But at least we’re together, which is an improvement on our relationship so far.”
“I am truly sorry about all that,” she said, looking contrite.
“No need to be,” Bruce replied. “I think your focus and determination was something of a turn-on. I’ve always loved a challenge, and you were the ultimate.”
He bent down and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. She snuggled further into the bed, looking kittenish, and much younger than her age.
Just then the lights began to dim, and Bruce hurried to find his way into the other bed. By the time his head was on the pillow the room was too dark to see much of anything.
“Night, Jenna,” he whispered.
“Sleep well, Bruce,” was the soft reply.
Determined not to dwell on what couldn’t be, Bruce began composing himself for sleep. It was surprisingly easy, and he guessed that the controller chip was doing its work on his brain’s sleep centers. But before he had quite drifted off, a voice whispered in his ear.
“Bruce, do you think you could manage company?”
“There’s nothing I could manage better.”
He lifted the quilt, and Jenna’s soft, nude form joined him in bed. She fitted herself against the length of his body, her head using his chest for a pillow. He inhaled deeply of her scented aroma, and pulled her closer.
In less than a minute both were deeply asleep.
* * * * *
On the bridge of the Reven ship, Alpha19 was taking nourishment, which meant sipping a noxious cocktail of chemicals and fluids designed to slow down the degeneration of the cloned Reven bodies.
“All subjects are sleeping,” reported Psi276.
“Good. And is the laboratory prepared for the first day of experiments?”
“Yes. And the controller chip of the Terran woman is programmed to ensure that she enters the experiment with heightened aggression and a desire to sexually dominate her partner. Ther
e will be sufficient equipment on hand for her to do most things that she is capable of imagining. And, no matter how hard she makes things, the Gort will enjoy every second of it.”
“Excellent. In that case we should both rest also. We will commence shortly after the first nourishment of the day.”
“As you wish, Alpha19.”
The two stick figures lurched towards small pods lining one wall of the bridge, and climbed awkwardly into them. The pod lids closed, and a brown gas hissed into the space around the alien bodies. Both Reven convulsed briefly, their stick-like limbs clattering against the pod walls, and then they fell still, looking for all the world like desiccated skeletons.
Chapter Eight: Mistress Jenna
Bruce was the first to wake. He felt extremely rested and guessed that he’d slept for at least eight hours. The only thing bothering him in the immediate moment was that Jenna was still sleeping with her head on his arm, and his hand had gone completely numb. We can’t have moved the whole time we were asleep he thought. He decided to lie as quietly as possible, and let Jenna sleep for a while longer. The woman I love is here in my bed, asleep in my arms, I can put up with more than a bit of discomfort for that!
But within two minutes Jenna was starting to stir also. Seconds later she was pushing herself up on one arm, trying to get her bearings. The effect of this was to cause her ample breasts to swing forward deliciously and brush Bruce’s face. It was too good an opportunity to pass by, and he stroked the closest nipple with his tongue.
“Mmmm,” Jenna sighed sleepily. “That’s a nice way to start the day.” She bent down and kissed Bruce softly on the lips. He responded with greater pressure and for quite some time nothing broke the contact.
Finally, however, Jenna pulled away and sat up.
“Uh-uh, I’m not going there. Too much frustration before breakfast is bad for my appetite.”
She swung out of bed and slipped into a fresh outfit. Bruce followed, pulling on a pair of bike shorts, but leaving his torso bare.
Together the two walked into the main room, where they found some of the others involved in eating. Most were wearing some sort of clothing, although from the outfits on show it appeared that other humanoids didn’t wear a lot more than Bruce and Jenna were currently wearing themselves.
Acting as if they’d been doing this all their life, they strolled to the two alcoves, helped themselves to food, then settled down together to eat.
“What are you dining on today, good sir?”
“Methinks the finest Scottish oatmeal with brown sugar and fresh cream, followed by bacon and eggs-over-easy, topped off with some excellent Colombian coffee. And for the Lady?”
“Fresh picked papaya I think, newly squeezed orange juice, strawberries in light yogurt, and toast fingers with English marmalade.”
“I say, very exotic!” aped Bruce in an upper class British drawl.
For a while they ate in silence, taking pleasure in the sensations their palates were enjoying.
“I wonder what happens today,” Jenna finally remarked.
“I guess we find out. It would be nice to think the Vedi have it wrong, but they seem know more than we do. Hey, Ghanjihi!” Bruce called to the blue man, who seemed to be meditating. “What’s the program for today, do we sit and twiddle our thumbs until we all pass out from boredom?”
Ghanjihi made no response, but Fritti answered from the other side of the room.
“You won’t get any answer from him, Terran. Nothing that isn’t life-threatening disturbs a Vedi when they’re communicating with the two-armed ancestor within,” he chuckled maliciously. “But I can at least assure you that you don’t have to be bored. Come and look over here.”
He rose fluidly to his feet, and crossed to a door behind Bruce and Jenna.
“The Reven don’t want us jaded, miserable or lazy. It’s in the interest of their experiment to keep us occupied—those of us who aren’t in the lab of course,” he added with a lascivious grin. “So in this room they offer us a range of diversions. Each of these five buttons gives us a new activity to enjoy.”
He pointed to a line of buttons beside the door.
“The top button is for exercise, the second is for water-sports, the third is for zero gravity, the fourth is for intellectual stimulation, and the fifth is for sensory stimulation.”
Fritti pressed the first button, and the door slid back to reveal what appeared to be a gymnasium, although with some of the most unusual exercise equipment Bruce and Jenna had ever seen. One thing they did recognize, however, was that Zhorta, the female Gort, was in there pumping weights. She occupied the center of the room, stripped naked, sweat streaming down her stupendous body, as she did biceps curls with a massive set of barbells. She grinned when she saw who was at the door, but went on pumping the iron, her muscles rippling beneath her obsidian skin like a nest of giant pythons.
“My God,” breathed an awed Jenna. “That must be what the Amazons were really like. It makes Xena look pretty puny.”
“I do not know this Xena,” replied Fritti. He pressed the second button down. The door closed on Zhorta, and opened again to reveal a series of water-filled pools. One was clearly a type of hot tub, another could have been a plunge pool, and then there was a long slim pool, in which Ranisha was swimming with an amazing four-armed stroke. She seemed to leap through the water, and it occurred to Bruce that he’d have a hard time keeping up with her even if he were running while she was swimming.
Fritti pressed the third button, the door closed and opened, and there was Mmerr, floating weightless in mid-air. As they watched she pushed off from a wall, executed an intricate aerial somersault, and rebounded off the roof.
“Now that’s something I’d like to try,” said Jenna excitedly. “But I don’t understand how there’s a different room there every time you push the button.”
“The rooms exist in different dimensions,” explained Fritti in mildly patronizing tones, as if he couldn’t understand how anyone could fail to have grasped this. “How else do you think we can all fit into what is, in this universe, a relatively small vessel? Most of the ship exists in other dimensions, and the doors that we walk through are inter-dimensional portals. Each button here opens a portal to a different dimension.”
He scowled at the look of incomprehension on Bruce and Jenna’s faces.
“I’m sorry, I keep forgetting how backward your species is in some things. Let me explain. Space is like a book, every dimension is a page, and they all sit side by side. Our universe exists in this dimension, but there are very many dimensions where nothing exists at all. It is easy to place a structure in another dimension, and program your inter-dimensional portal to always open to its coordinates. So wherever the Reven ship goes in space, its doors always open to fixed coordinates in other dimensions. It is a technology that has many applications.”
“Fair enough,” said Bruce, who’d had enough of the Trrivv’s condescending manner, and was determined to brush him off. “Fancy a swim Jenna? Jenna…? Jenna, are you all right?”
But Jenna was completely oblivious to him. Just as he had turned to talk to her, her face had gone blank, her arms had fallen limply to her sides, and her eyes had taken on an unfocused, glassy look. Without a word she turned to face the other side of the room and began walking eerily towards a newly opened door. She was clearly in some sort of trance.
Bruce began to panic. He called after her again, and went to grab hold of her arm. But Fritti reached out to draw him back.
“You must let her go. If you try to stop her the controller chip will punish you severely. She is clearly a subject in today’s experiment, and the Reven will brook no interference.”
“I don’t understand. Why is she a subject today and not me?”
“Either they are using her alone, or else they have another partner, or partners, in mind. Ah yes, the latter is the case I see. By the Mother, that will be a tight fit! I hope he doesn’t stretch her too much before it is my turn.�
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Bruce had no idea what the cat-man was talking about, until he saw that Mort the Gort was also walking across the room like a zombie, and was about to enter the doorway through which Jenna had just disappeared. That was more than Bruce could handle. With a cry of fury he raced across the room to intercept the gigantic creature. But before he had got more than a few paces, excruciating pain had knocked him to the floor, leaving him screaming in agony. His eyes were clenched tight with the pain, and so he did not see the door slide shut behind the Gort’s huge back.
* * * * *
The next thing Jenna knew she was in a dimly lit, cavernous room. As her eyes gradually adjusted, she realized that what illumination there was came from lights down at floor level, projecting upwards, and reflecting dimly off heavy red wall hangings. Around the room was an array of bizarre structures. At first she thought the things were furniture, until she recognized some of them as models of medieval torture equipment. There was a rack, and over there were chains and manacles, and that must be an Iron Maiden, and there were stocks, for feet, or for hands and heads. She didn’t recognize a lot of the strange looking metal shapes, but she could hazard a guess at some of their potentially nasty applications.
“Where the hell am I?” she asked fearfully.
“In the Reven laboratory, Mistress,” boomed a deep voice from behind her.
Jenna almost jumped out of her skin, adrenaline coursed through her as she skittered around to face the source of the voice.
“Shit Mort, you scared me!” she yelled, when she realized who had spoken.
“I am sorry, Mistress, that was not my intention.”
“Well don’t do it again. And don’t call me Mistress!”
A small part of Jenna’s mind knew that she should be more nervous, after all she was in a strange dungeon, full of machines of torture, with only a hulking alien for company. But she felt too pissed-off for that. This whole experience was getting more and more ridiculous. Unusual emotions were seething in her mind and a devil-may-care anger was taking control of her. Where were these feelings coming from? She couldn’t explain why, but she really wanted to make someone pay for the bloody stupid things that kept happening. That was when she realized that something else was different.
