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Lilith: Eden's Planetary Princess (The Michael Archives Book 1)

Page 29

by Robinson, C. E.


  “Hernandez became a military leader in Aribia,” Collin continued. “And then a powerful politician. This was after Reinhardt was long dead. Hernandez was the one who pushed through a trade pact between Aribia and Azakaman to sell uranium, oil, iron ore, and a few dozen other things that refueled their military machines. I’m sure the pact is still in place. If Reinhardt ever figures this out, he’ll just shit.”

  “How do you know this?” Brittney asked. She knew Hernandez was General David Pesagniya’s primary liaison with Kahmael.

  “I was the Azakamani liaison to Aribia,” Collin whispered, as he leaned back in his seat and took a gulp of beer. He skipped the part about betraying Brittney in the physical life just before becoming the liaison. I’ll deal with that later, Collin thought as he scanned the bar, noticing James, the steward who had helped Brittney on the ship.

  Brittney thought about Collin’s comment for a moment, slowly nodding her head as the gaps in her understanding were filled. She figured his liaison position must have been a Celestial one, right after Collin had died young from heat exhaustion, during a professional ball game in Aribia.

  When Brittney looked at Jessica, she still looked stunned. She gave her a little wiggle with her finger, and Jessica immediately responded, leaning forward to hear more.

  Brittney gave Jessica a long tender kiss on the lips. “Jess. It’s real simple. You’re still under the residues of your Nakshatric Blanket. They’re very powerful influences. Never underestimate how powerful they are. It’ll take some time for you to get over this. Just know, I love you, Jess. I love you more deeply than you know. All I ask…” She gave her another tender kiss, this one much longer and lingering, gently caressing her cheek with soft fingers. “…is that we work through this together.”

  “I’m happy to see you again, father,” James said to Collin, as they left Bill’s and headed toward the deep woods.

  “Please, James. I don’t deserve the title.”

  “Sure you do,” James replied, wrapping his arm around Collin’s shoulder and giving him a tight squeeze. “I followed your career quite closely. Such an excellent athlete. Very impressive. Brittney made it easy for me. Besides, how were you to know Britt was pregnant with me when you left her? I understand you didn’t know I existed until I turned eleven. Is that right?

  Collin shook his head in dismay. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Have you heard the latest on Karolita?”

  “My lovely wife?” Collin replied sarcastically. “Yeah. When I was meeting with Rabii Hadraniel, she showed me a recording of the trial that happened after my death. You handled yourself quite well. I too am impressed.” Collin smiled to himself, as he remembered the screaming rage his widow, Karolita had flown into when she discovered James’ existence, and that he was to receive the bulk of Collin’s wealth.

  Instead of Brittney, Collin had married Karolita. Karolita’s influential contacts in the sports industry had helped Collin secure a top position on the best team. But Collin had regretted marrying her many times. Living with such a monster had not been worth it.

  “Before she had me murdered, I had already given the 170 million Rupees you left me to The Brethren Elders who raised me,” James continued. “I know Karolita made your life miserable. In the end you made several Brethren Communities financially self-sufficient.”

  “Yeah. Rabii Hadraniel told me that part, too,” Collin said, his smile breaking into a grin, suddenly feeling pretty good about himself. Collin looked at James, expecting him to be grinning as well.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t want to tell you this part, but you need to know.” They stopped walking. “Aniel’s team learned Karolita has vowed revenge.”

  “Humph,” Collin grunted as they continued their walk. “Well, what’s new? Revenge is the Pharisee’s favorite sport. Has she put a bounty on my head?”

  “Yeah. She’s put a bounty on your head.”

  James looked down and shook his head. “She’s promised to collect one pair of Angel eyes for every million Rupees she lost. She plans to personally deliver them to you.”

  “Ugh,” Collin grunted. “She really is sick, isn’t she?”

  Chapter 41

  Rickey’s Anger

  I protect Indra and our Nazz. I abide by no other law.

  —Colonel Richard Reinhardt

  Elysium

  Rickey Reinhardt pounded on Guru Patanjali’s door. The two guards behind him gripped Shorinam tightly under each arm. Shorinam, still nude with his swastika oozing blood, had his hands tied behind his back and shackles on his legs. A toroidal ring, just like the ones around his master’s manhood, was locked around Shorinam’s skinny neck. A flexible ball was stuffed in his mouth, held in place by a strap that ran around his head.

  Rickey pounded on the door again and shouted. “Guru Patanjali. Please answer your door. This is an emergency situation. There are serious charges against your servant, Shorinam for breaking and entering.” He glared at Shorinam who now blamed himself for the need to enter his master’s bedchambers.

  “Very well. I must assume you are injured and cannot answer my request. I will now let myself in.” Rickey slid his master key into the lock and opened it. The two guards followed, dragging Shorinam — now terrified of the massive problems he had created — terrified to face his master after failing in such an important mission — possibly the most important mission his master had ever sent him on.

  “Hello?” Rickey shouted, pretending he had not heard Patanjali’s screams. Rickey marched into the bedroom, his chest puffed out, his black uniform immaculate, his gaze piercing straight ahead. He surveyed the room, pretending at first not to see Patanjali.

  Guru Patanjali was lying flat-out on his bed, panting. His phallus went through the middle of the bars that held up the handrail to his balcony and along the outside wall of the garden. It was impossible for him to squeeze his portly body through the balcony handrail and leave his bedroom — unless, of course, he severed his appendage — or more unlikely, bribed someone to cut away the bars.

  “Sire. What is this?” Rickey said as he walked closer to the bed. He marched along Patanjali’s phallus, closely scrutinizing every vein. He followed it out to the balcony where he leaned far over the railing, tracing its path to Kuko’s room.

  While Rickey surveyed the situation, the guards chained Shorinam to hidden, embedded rings in the bedroom wall.

  Rickey returned to the bed and stared down at Patanjali. “This is most unusual,” he said briskly. “I will have to investigate further. You are not to leave this room until my investigations are completed.” He spun on his heels, gave a jerking nod to the guards, and marched out.

  Kati sat on a chair in Patanjali’s sitting room, eagerly awaiting her part. When Rickey came out, she stood to go in. Rickey gave the guards another nod for them to leave. They did so and gently closed the door behind them.

  “As if he could leave,” Kati said. “That was nicely done, by the way.”

  Rickey just nodded his head, and then spoke softly. “Kati, we need to do a couple things before you start.”

  “But, I’m…”

  Rickey shook his head. “This situation really isn’t safe for you. Patanjali is like a wounded animal. He could jump up and hit you while you have your eyes closed in the middle of your performance, or bite you, or whatever.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. But will you get someone to bring me an apple or something? I’m starving.”

  “Of course,” Rickey said as he offered her his hand and turned her toward the door. “And I’ll feel a lot better if you wait in the hall with the guards. I’ll be back in half an hour. Give him more time to stew.”

  As Kati washed down the last remnants of her second apple and some cheese and crackers, Rickey arrived carrying a small bag. His head was down. When he was a couple of meters away, he looked up. All the lightness had left his face. “What is it?” Kati asked.

  “Do you know what happened in Kuko�
��s bedroom?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Kati replied. “I saw it myself.” She knew how Rickey felt about Kuko. In many Material incarnations, Kuko had been his biological mother. Being the captain of Elysium’s Nazz guard, he was protective overall, but when it came to Kuko, he could easily become uncontrollably violent. The story he had heard from Kuko sent him over the edge.

  “I’m sorry, my friend. I should have told you. Somehow I thought you already knew.”

  “No. I thought Patanjali had just sent his schlong into the garden to sniff around, and you or Salecia or Kuko or someone had seen it, grabbed it, and tied it to her balcony.”

  Kati just shook her head.

  “You know what?” Rickey said. “I’m really gonna mess this guy up.”

  Kati took his hand and squeezed it gently. “You know Rickey. I think Kuko is already messing him up pretty good.”

  Rickey just nodded, returning her squeeze. He let go of her hand and took a deep breath, blowing it out hard. Then he grabbed the door’s handle and threw the door open. The doorstop ripped out of the floor and the handle imbedded into the wall. He marched toward the bed, stopping a couple of meters from Patanjali.

  “I am outraged,” he screamed. He slapped Patanjali so hard his body flew off the bed and smashed against the wall.

  “You are welcomed into our home as a royal guest and this is how you repay us? You attempt to rape General Kiena?” he screamed as he reached over, grabbed Patanjali by the hair, and dragged him back to the bed.

  “GUARDS!”

  Instantly, a guard was on each side of the bed. They had already removed shackles from the bag Rickey had brought. The guards attached metal rings at the head and foot of the bed. They clamped a shackle on each wrist and ankle, and attached the shackle’s chain at the four corners of the bed.

  They pulled a leather mask out of the bag. The mask was not a continuous fabric, rather it consisted of a number of straps constructed such that a wide strap wrapped around his neck, with two narrower straps on either side of his nose, and another wide strap that covered his forehead. The wide strap had the added benefit of blinding Patanjali’s third eye with thick leather. All the straps came together in a ring at the back of his head. The ring was tied to another ring at the head of the bed. There would be no sudden lurching and biting.

  “And you,” Rickey hissed at Shorinam. Rickey backhanded him across the face so hard, Shorinam almost passed out.

  Rickey was quite a bit bigger than Shorinam, but now that Shorinam was hanging on the wall by his wrists, they were about the same height. He moved closer until they were nose to nose.

  “Isn’t it bad enough that you help turn Nazz women into whores? Now this? This wasn’t just a spontaneous prank between you two. My guards saw you skulking around. You’ve been planning this rape ever since Lord Smigyl’s banquet and now you burst into General Kiena’s private bedroom and issue insulting demands when your so-called ‘Guru’ was the culprit?” He spit on the floor at Shorinam’s feet. Rickey leaned over and whispered quietly into Shorinam’s ear. “You’re the real whore, Shorinam. And now you’re going to suffer because of it.”

  Rickey spun around and marched to the bedroom door. He stopped. He turned around, put two fingers to his lips, and studied Patanjali as if he were a bug. Both Patanjali and Shorinam were expecting another attack. However, he said nothing. He spun on his heels and left.

  Rickey stopped in front of Kati. “He’s all yours,” he said quietly, avoiding her eyes. Then he marched out of the room, leaving Kati relieved that she had something beyond a corpse with which to play her part.

  “Hi lover,” Kati said seductively as she slid into Guru Patanjali’s bedroom. “Mmmm. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Have you missed me?”

  Patanjali was panting, his eyes were shut, moans of agony periodically seeped out of his mouth. Kati moved slowly across the room and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching over, stroking Patanjali’s hairy chest.

  “Oh, this is so sexy. I love it when you moan like that for me,” she said as she bit her lower lip. His pearly white body was not particularly fat, just soft and well fed. She let her hand slide down his stomach, then along his left thigh, and then back up and down his right thigh.

  “Did you do all this just for me?” She let her hand slide all the way down his left leg until it reached the shackle. She grabbed the chain and gave it a good tug. “Oh, yesss. I know you love your games.”

  Patanjali opened his eyes. He tried to lift his head but the leather straps kept him frozen in place. His eyes jerked wildly around the room. Then as if for the first time, he noticed Shorinam. He blinked rapidly. Kati stood slowly and slid her eyes over to Shorinam. “Ohhh. I remember you. You’re the one who likes to watch, aren’t you?”

  At Guru Patanjali’s ashrams, it was Shorinam who arrived in the middle of the night to pull Kati or some other victim out of sleep and herd them to Patanjali’s private chambers. He would then exit the room, but leave the door open just in case his guru needed him. More than once, she had seen Shorinam slyly peek around the corner to watch.

  Kati turned back to Patanjali as she stretched her hand toward the ceiling. She looked down and slid her tongue back and forth across her upper lip as she slowly unfastened the buttons on her coat.

  “It’s a little hot in here, isn’t it? I hope you don’t mind if I make myself comfortable.” She closed her eyes and slowly opened her coat to reveal a gauzy lace top and miniscule panties.

  She sashayed over to the bed, swaying her hips and caressing her torso. Like a tiger, she crept onto the bed, stood, and then straddled him, slowly slipping down until she was sitting on his stomach.

  “You’ve got to help me. I’m in pain,” he panted.

  “Sureee, I know you’re in pain, you big stud, you. That’s why I’m here. I’m going to take away your pain.” Her hands slid down her sides and then back up as she slowly pulled off her top, tossing it at Shorinam’s feet.

  “No, you don’t understand…”

  She looked down at Patanjali, raising her eyebrows, cocking her head to the side. “Oh no.” The words dripped out of her mouth like thick honey. “You don’t remember my name?”

  He gave his head a quick shake.

  “Kati. My name is Kati. After all those times, I thought for sure you’d remember innocent little Kati.”

  “Yes, of course. Kati,” he said heavily, forcing his words out between pants.

  “Mmmm, that’s right. Kati,” she said while she slid her hands up her tight stomach and across her breasts, reaching high in the air.

  “Kati, my penis. It’s caught in something. You have to help me.”

  “Surrre. I’ll help you. That’s why I’m here.” She reached down and untied the bows on either side of her panties, pulled them off, and threw them at Shorinam.

  She did not see it, but an energy pulse ran down Patanjali’s phallus, causing a Celestial glow visible to those in Kuko’s room.

  By the time the energy pulse reached Kuko’s balcony, there were already a dozen Nazz women waiting in Kuko’s room, all of them holding an implement of pain that best represented their sentiments for Patanjali.

  Kuko put their names in a bowl, drew out the first one, and read the name. General Archarzel Flosade stood ready with the fresh ripe stinging nettle she had just plucked from the herb garden below. Flosade had incarnated in the flesh to learn meditation from Patanjali, but he refused to teach her his prized techniques until she fully satisfied his cravings.

  Flosade selected a small patch of flesh and gently stroked the nettle upon it, coaxing the millions of tiny needles to slowly inject their painful irritants.

  Patanjali first felt the cool stroking from the plant, but only seconds later a wave of pain hit him.

  “AHHHHHHHH,” he screamed.

  But it was not just one simple stab of pain. The pulses from the irritants came again and again — stronger and stronger — he screamed again and again — louder and louder.<
br />
  “Yes, that’s it,” Kati said as she slid further down his body. “Baby, I love it when you moan.”

  “No you stupid fucking idiot. Don’t you get it? My dick is caught in something. Help me get it out!”

  “Yesss, that’s right baby,” she purred, occasionally glancing behind to see the pulses of energy.

  Upstairs, Flosade stopped rubbing the nettles. “That’s enough for me right now,” she said to Kuko while tossing the plant over the balcony.

  A snicker arose in the room as Flosade walked over to the wall. She leaned against it with her arms across her chest.

  Kuko pulled another name out. “Saphathoreal,” she called out. Saphathoreal stepped forward and gave Kuko a small bow. She had brought a small welding torch and a slender rod of metal with a wooden handle on one end and a sharp spike on the other.

  “Ooohhh,” several women cooed in approval.

  Downstairs, Kati finally tired of being in Patanjali’s presence. She stood, stepped off the bed, grabbed her clothes, and without acknowledging him, walked out of the bedroom.

  “Hey! Where are you going? You have to help me.”

  In the sitting area attached to Patanjali’s bedroom, several women waited to replace Kati and give their own performances.

  In Kuko’s room, Salecia presented Kuko with a stack of papers. “Kuko, there are hundreds of women in Elysium who have been molested by Patanjali. Everyone I’ve spoken to wants to participate.” Salecia turned toward the balcony where the smell of burned flesh overcame her.

  “Don’t worry ladies. There’s no need to rush,” Kuko said. “I’m going to keep Guru Patanjali right where he is until every single Nazz woman has had her fill. Even if it takes until the end of time.”

 

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