by Jaye Peaches
“The most reliable prisoners are selected to serve. Older and less likely to cause trouble. You’ll have a personal maid—”
“And sleep in your bed every night, making love and…” Something about the expression on his face brought her to an abrupt halt. “What?”
“My bed? No, you’ll sleep in the jenjin quarters.”
Her fingers stumbled over a fastening. “I won’t sleep with you?”
“Only the jenjin live in the Volta.”
Her bubble of happiness popped. “Volta. What’s that?”
He brushed the creases out of his jacket, and spoke as if everything he was saying was ordinary. “A pleasure palace. It’s designed to give the best environment for sex. Amazing rooms with special furniture, sex toys, and bathing facilities. You’ll be kept ready for me, prepared for my visits—”
“Visits!” She covered her mouth with her hand. “It’s a…” She couldn’t think of the Vendian word and chose an English one instead. “A brothel.”
Lines appeared on his forehead as he furrowed his eyebrows. “A brothel. I don’t know that word.”
“It’s where men pay for sex, that’s what it is.” She slammed her sandals on the floor.
“Pay? There’s no payment here. You don’t understand, I’m proposing a great honor for you. The governor’s jenjin will be well taken care of. The Volta selects the best females from the prisoner population for the soldiers, but I get to choose.”
“Select? You mean coerce. Women forced—”
“No,” he said firmly. “They volunteer.”
“Volunteer?” she sneered.
“Look down there, Freya. Look at it. The heat, the baking sunshine, the measly food, and long hours of work. It’s not supposed to be fun. It’s a prison. Up here, it is luxury in comparison. The Volta is oversubscribed with applicants. It’s considered a reward, a bonus to live in the Volta, learning how to please men and make them happy. Naturally, it will require you to adapt and there might be occasions when you are disciplined.”
Learning? Discipline? What kind of sex was she expected to perform for him? Where was the passion he’d just shown her? “You don’t get it, Marco. I want love, companionship… you. Not just when you feel like it. I want to live with you.” She brushed aside an emotional tear with the back of her hand.
“That isn’t how things work here. Love is something that we Vendu don’t consider valuable; quite the contrary, it’s a hindrance. It ties people to one place and we are a mobile race of warriors. If a man chooses a woman to be his mate, to rear his offspring, he will support her and the children, but love isn’t a requirement. It’s not unusual for Vendu men to have several sexual partners through their lifetime.”
He didn’t get it. Her heart fragmented into little bits. She’d built him up to be something special and it was a false dream. “That isn’t how I want it,” she said bitterly. “I can’t be your jenjin. I’d rather take my chances down there.”
Marco frowned, shaking his head. “I can’t have you there. You must stay.”
“Will you force me, Marco? Is that what you’ll do?” She planted her hands on her hips and he scowled.
“No.” He walked toward her and reached out his hand, but she backed away until she hit the force field. He’d fucked her against it. Now she wished it wasn’t there. “Won’t you just try? Visit the Volta?”
She shook her head. “I’ll live in your residence. I’ll be your lover, your friend, but I won’t be this jenjin. My mind is made up. So let me go back. I’ll take my chances.”
The color drained slightly from his face, a second’s worth of shock at her decision, then his features hardened. “You’re being foolish—”
“No. I’m putting my feelings first. I loved what you did to me. Yes, it was fucking, but I really thought we had a connection and that we could make something of it. But you don’t get it, so fine. I’ll go. What did I expect from an alien.” She strode toward the door.
“Come back,” he barked. “I haven’t dismissed you.”
She pivoted on her heel and crossed her arms. “Or what? You’ll spank me? Go ahead. See where that gets you. I’m not going to change my mind.”
He stood across the room, his eyes stared right into hers and for a few seconds, she believe he might just do it, spank her again, but then he slapped his hands against his sides. “I won’t force you. Go. I’ll have someone take you back down. I’m sorry, Freya. I’m sorry you don’t understand how important you’ve become to me. The Volta isn’t a bad place and my wish to be with you is founded upon honorable intentions. I would look after you. Isn’t that what a good man should do with his woman?”
She couldn’t say no, because what he said was true. However, she wasn’t entirely convinced he was the right man. That was the difference. “I’ll go.”
“If you change your mind—”
“I know where to find you. I’ll look up, and here you’ll be.”
* * *
Standing in the shower, she washed his scent off her skin. Amongst the fine spray of water, her tears were also swept away. The welts on her bottom stung and there was a residue of soreness elsewhere, too, but it had been worth it, because the sex had been beyond fantastic. Still, regardless of what joy it had brought her, the achievement lay in tatters. He’d let her go. The hopes she had built that she might be his had been dashed, along with any sense of happiness.
She’d lost track of time—when would her next shift begin? She didn’t particularly care and slumped onto the bed. Exhausted, emotionally and physically, by the events of the day, she fell asleep.
The morning siren shook her awake as if it had hands about her shoulders. She jerked and battled with an imaginary alarm clock by her bed. Groaning, she heaved her body out of the bed and attempted to inspect her ass by peering around. Without a mirror it was impossible. Stroking her hand over her bottom, she felt the slight raise of each welt, a tenderness over them, but otherwise the heat had gone.
During the walk to work she encountered several patrols of soldiers engaged in random stop and searches. They didn’t notice her. As she arrived in the laundry press room, Abby bounded up and hugged her.
“Oh, thank you. I don’t know how you did it, but this soldier gave me medicine. I wasn’t expecting it, but look.” She rolled up the trouser leg to show Freya the healing wound. “So much better already and it doesn’t hurt.”
“Good,” Freya smiled. “And according to the governor, there will be a female doctor in the infirmary soon. So no more experimentation. Things are going to get better around here, I’m sure of it.”
Jean patted Freya’s back. “Well done. What happened? It’s crazy out there. The soldiers have rounded up the faction leaders, disbanded the police, and raided numerous blocks and…” She peered at Freya closely and narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, according to the governor?”
Freya hurried over to activate a machine, hoping to drown out any conversation. “Nothing,” she said.
Jean scurried past her and blocked the switch. She folded her arms. “Tell me.”
“It’s just… have you heard of the Volta?”
Abby moved to stand by Jean. “Yes, it’s where the jenjin live.”
“The jenjin?” Freya feigned ignorance, hoping to learn what the prisoners thought instead of Marco’s rose-tinted view.
“Oh. You know. Girls who provide services to the soldiers. It’s a popular assignment, if you can get in.” Abby snorted. “They turned me down. Not suitable. That’s how I ended up being with the League instead.”
Freya’s eyes widened. “You wanted to do it?”
“Why not,” Abby shrugged. “Better than being down here. You get pampered, fed properly. And yes, there’s the sex, but it’s okay. They mustn’t hurt you, at least not in that way. The rules are very strict, so they keep you in line with punishments, but I wouldn’t have minded.” She halted and tapped Freya’s chin. “You look surprised?”
Freya shut her mouth. �
�What about your dignity?”
Jean guffawed. “Dignity? You think working here, breaking our backs is about dignity? This is a penal colony, Freya. They don’t care how long you live. They don’t care if you’re happy or sad. So of course being a jenjin is a step up. The men get jealous because they think it’s a special status. Being in the police was supposed to give them privileges but it’s gotten corrupt. So tell me, because you haven’t answered my question. What about the governor?” She prodded Freya’s arm.
Bowing her head, hiding her hot cheeks away, she muttered her reply. “He wants me as his jenjin.”
Both women gasped in a chorus. “The governor? How? Why? Come on, what’s been going on?” Abby harried.
“I spoke to him on the flight, as we came into land and then…” She stopped abruptly. She didn’t want to mention the examination and what he’d done to her. “I suppose I caught his eye,” she ended lamely.
“That’s why the soldier gave you the medicine, Abby, the governor ordered it,” Jean chuckled. “Why are you here then?”
Freya gave a small shrug. “I refused.”
“You turned down the most powerful man on Tagra? You walked away from him? You’re an idiot,” exclaimed Abby.
Was that how they saw her? An idiot? Was it that easy to surrender to a man she barely knew and let him decide her future? Freya had always made her own decisions: what she studied, whom she dated, even where she lived, once she’d left the protection of the family home. She’d left Geneva and moved to the Americas, determined to make a difference. Like many who studied renewable technologies, she had coveted the Vendu’s terraforming technology—Australia in one decade had been turned green and plentiful. When the Vendu had refused to cooperate and share the technology, a taskforce put together by various industries had approached her and they’d easily sold her the challenge—spy for them. That took courage, so why was she running away from Marco?
Otto’s booming voice ended the conversation. “Do you want to be fed today? Get on with it.”
Freya missed reading books. She missed many things that would have distracted her from thinking about Marco, and the monotony of work didn’t help.
Another day ended, another bland meal. She slept fitfully, kept awake by erotic dreams that recalled the way he excited her clitoris, conquered her virgin ass, and came with a roar. On the third wakening, she slid her hand between her thighs and touched her folds, feeling the wetness. She groaned and teased her clitoris with the tips of her fingers. The swift arousal lasted a few minutes. The orgasm was hurried, half-baked, and not as satisfying as the ones she’d had with Marco. Frustrated, she rolled onto her belly and burrowed her face into the pillow, praying for sleep.
The days passed in a blur. Bells rang, meals were eaten, and other than chatting to her coworkers and bumping into Tally, Freya drifted through each one of those days in a state of misery.
Marco’s plans continued to take shape. A new police force was commissioned with more restrictions and constant inspections to ensure the right sort of men were chosen.
“It’s a prison with rebels and thieves,” commented Jean. “What do they expect? It’s bound to become corrupt again.”
“We’re not, though, are we? So there has to be some decency. Rebels aren’t necessarily criminals,” Freya countered.
“I suppose,” Jean said, unconvinced.
The faction leaders, those caught with black market goods and pimping abused women, were publicly punished, as Marco promised. Freya didn’t witness the floggings. Abby went to watch and reported back that Kiefer wept like a child when they’d whipped his back.
“I always knew he was weak. Got what he deserved, after what he did to me.” Abby wouldn’t say any more, but she had a chirpy look on her face all day.
“Will it make a difference?” Freya pondered.
“Trouble is, there’s a power vacuum now,” said Jean during their lunch break. “These men are all locked up in solitary for now and who’s taken their place? Other lowlifes. It’s going to take more than a few whippings to keep this place under control.”
The next day, Otto didn’t turn up for work. “Reward day. He’s probably sitting somewhere in the shade and sleeping.” Abby’s eyes darted around the press room. “Watch your back, Freya. Drax is here instead. He’s not one for messing around with.”
Freya had not met Drax before, but at her first toilet break, she encountered him as he hovered by the door, smirking as she walked by. “Going to get myself in those pants one day,” he laughed and pointed at his groin.
Freya scowled. “You think so?” she shouted over her shoulder.
He chased after her and grabbed her arm. “Don’t you think I will? You’re that Earthling girl, the one everyone wants to try out. What are you going to do to stop me?” He pinned her against the wall.
There wasn’t anyone around. The dim corridor, which ran along the back of the building, was deserted. Freya struggled, trying to kick her legs and find a way to wriggle free.
Would it never end? The constant threat of danger brought about by the lack of security. Would she just learn to bear it, as Abby insinuated? One day, would it be simpler to let them have what they wanted than resist?
Never.
What decided it for her was that she had a way out. Abby was right to call her an idiot. Life was too precious to throw away. She had an opportunity to make that difference at last, but not by spying. No, she would whisper in the ear of the most powerful man on Tagra. She would find some way to make Marco bend to her ideas, her needs.
She clenched her fists and brought her knee up into Drax’s groin.
Chapter Eight
Marco told his captains that it would take time. Change didn’t happen in one day. He used the same tactic to convince himself to leave Freya alone. Let her come to him when she was ready. For her own protection, he had her monitored; her implant was tracked from building to building, but she never deviated from the routine of the day. All appeared to be well.
He was disappointed, more than disappointed, which surprised him. He’d not expected her to turn him down, not after the sex they’d had. He didn’t understand Earthlings, their fascination with love. It wasn’t that the Vendu didn’t have intense emotions for each other, but nobody expected them to last. However, when he tried to sleep, the loneliness ate at him. He could choose another jenjin—his assistant had lined up several for him to look at in the Volta. But he declined. He’d met the woman he wanted and daily the craving for her continued until his balls ached.
His plans for improving the colony were slotting into place, and when the day had come to have the transgressors whipped, he’d dressed in his smartest uniform and stood on the platform and announced the sentences. Scanning the crowd gathered, he’d known she wasn’t there. She’d been holed up in her room. Once the punishments had been completed, the temptation to storm into her room and persuade her to be his jenjin had been immense, but he’d held back. Things took time.
“Sir.” Puto, his young assistant, entered his office. “The patrols were called to an assault by the laundry supervisor. You asked to be kept informed about the Earthling prisoner? She has been taken into custody.”
“What?” Marco leapt off his chair. “When?”
“Two hours after morning shift began. She assaulted a—”
Marco held up his hand. “Wait, she assaulted?”
“Sir. She claims he started it and she acted in self-defense. He’s in the infirmary. She stamped on his…” Puto’s cheeks flushed pink.
“I see. She is quite a handful, isn’t she?” Marco grinned. She’d put her training to good use, thankfully. “I want her brought to me.”
Puto snapped his heels and saluted.
Marco paced his office as he waited for her to arrive.
When she entered, his heart skipped a beat. Her hair was ruffled, her face pale, and two fastenings were missing from her overall. He raced over, waving away the guard who’d escorted her. “Frey
a. Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I’m fine.”
He pursed his lips, scanning her face, looking for bruises or cuts. “You took on a thug?”
She examined her hands. “He wasn’t as hard as he looked.” However, he saw the redness on her knuckles.
“You punched him?”
“Yes. And I confess I stamped on him, too. He went down quite quickly once I stuck my knee in his balls. Funny how regardless of where they come from, men’s testicles are consistently painful when struck.” She grinned.
“Ice. I have ice.” He darted into his private bathroom and ejected ice cubes from the vendor. Ice was something only the Vendu had access to. He wrapped a few cubes in a cloth. “Sit.” He pointed at his chair.
Freya obeyed and held out her hand. He crouched next to the chair and pressed the ice pack to her knuckles until she winced.
“Can you wriggle your fingers?” he asked.
She showed him. “Nothing broken, just a bit sore.” She straightened her fingers. “Am I in trouble? Will I be punished?”
“For defending yourself, no!” He rose. “But don’t you see how dangerous it is for you? You’re too appealing, too unusual.”
She stood and shuffled her feet on the floor. “I’ve been thinking about what we talked about last time. And. I wondered if the option was still open.”
He dragged her into a tight embrace before planting his mouth on her lips. To taste her again, to feel the moist line of her lips, had re-awoken his neglected cock. He coiled his hand through her hair; the need for her was strong, but once again, he held back. This time, it wouldn’t be in his office. He had to ensure she meant it, that she would be his jenjin.
