Shalia's Diary Book 12

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Shalia's Diary Book 12 Page 2

by Tracy St. John


  “Forgive me, master. I’m so very sorry. It’s your pussy and ass, never mine.”

  “Sorry isn’t good enough. Hold still for more punishment.”

  I braced myself for what was to come. Cifa reached beneath me. He slapped my clit.

  Profound pain lit my cunt. It drove me straight into orgasm. I shrieked and shuddered as pleasure walloped me on the heels of that blast of torment, making my pussy flex with each hot pulse that tore through my core.

  As soon as the climax began to recede, Cifa gave my clit another spank. I detonated again, my sleeve milking his rear cock as he began a demanding rhythm, fucking me with violent abandon. He took me hard, as was his right, and he swatted my pussy each time I began to recover from orgasm. I was in a frenzy of agonized ecstasy, my insides pulsing in tandem with his pounding thrusts.

  At last he groaned, his cocks jerking inside me. Our juices dripped down the insides of my legs, and still his shafts jolted within my channels. Cifa shuddered against me, his cries strained, his weight plastering me flat to his desk. When he could speak again, he sighed, “I’m so damned glad I hired you. You deserve a raise.”

  I laughed breathlessly. “I’m perfectly happy with the fringe benefits.”

  March 16, early

  Katrina, Candy, and I met for a long-overdue lunch at a cliffside-restaurant that was big on atmosphere and delicious food. Big on price, too. But because Seot offered to foot the bill, we concentrated on the positive stuff. It’s been ages since the original Terrible Trio from the Pussy ‘Porter got together. Naturally, Anrel joined us. Such hen parties are educational for my daughter. She needs to know the benefits of a sisterhood in preparation for her own.

  I see Katrina and Candy quite a bit, but I realized how much of it was in a professional capacity today. Katrina and I are neck-deep in the Family Fertility Foundation. I assist Candy with her speeches and vid interviews with Kalquorians and Earthers who want to change the clan definition and legal standing. I talk to her at Cifiler headquarters all the time too.

  Yet with all that, we had a ton of things to catch up on. Katrina announced she was running out on us—for a couple of months.

  “My children and grandchildren have invited me to visit them on Haven,” she beamed. “My son and daughter asked if I’d be willing to pick out a couple of homesteads for them and supervise things being set up so they can start right away. The second planting season will be in full swing when their ship arrives in a few weeks, and they don’t want to miss out before winter hits.”

  “Yeehaw, Farmer Katrina,” I teased. “I want a shot of you in overalls, working a pitchfork.”

  “More like hiring help to work pitchforks while I sip drinks on the farmhouse front porch.”

  “Are you quitting your job here?” Candy looked worried.

  “No, only taking family leave, which is no problem since I arranged for my temporary replacement already. I’ll be training Megan on my job to stand in for me all next week, and then I’m off.”

  I couldn’t have been happier for Katrina. At one point, she’d been estranged from her son because she’d joined a clan. His objections to her mixing with Kalquorians hadn’t stood up to his children’s demands they be allowed to visit their grammy. I also get the feeling he really loves Katrina, so my thinking is that he allowed himself to be ‘convinced’ to let her in his family’s life. I hope the visit goes well.

  After a round of congratulations, I homed in on something else she’d said. “I hate to encourage gossip—”

  Katrina said, “Oh please do” at the same moment Candy insisted, “Encourage!”

  I laughed at them. “You mentioned Megan playing temp for you. Is she back from staying with Clan Aslada?”

  Katrina cackled, letting me know there was delicious rumor to be heard. “I adore that gal. She’s a smart one, our Miss Megan.”

  “Ooh, tell me there’s a scandal,” Candy begged in the breathless way she talks when she’s excited.

  “Not so much scandal as putting those men in their proper place.”

  “Clan Aslada?” My eyes widened to hear my former suitors had done something to warrant such action.

  “They do have an issue with putting in a lot of hours into their jobs,” Katrina reminded me. “Megan isn’t having it. She adores the three of them, is head over heels, in fact. But she drew the line at playing second fiddle to their jobs.”

  “She has a point,” I agreed, remembering all too well the last week I’d spent with them. They’d gone back to work after taking time off to woo me. Though they’d been devoted the few hours when they were home, I’d seen very little of them. “Relationships take serious effort. If they aren’t ready to invest in her, they don’t deserve her.”

  “That’s what she told them before climbing in a shuttle and coming home to the complex. They were on the com with her before she landed in the capital city, begging her to return.

  “She said no? Is she playing hard to get?” Candy asked, enthralled with the tale.

  “She dashed into the office before going to her quarters to unpack. ‘Katrina, I need a job. Make me your assistant. I’ll do it for free. I’ll do anything, just so I can show them I can ignore them for career too!’ She’s determined they learn the error of their ways.” Katrina chortled. “I had gotten the plea to help my family only minutes before she showed up, so the timing couldn’t have been better. The moment I offered to let her temp, she commed Dramok Aslada.”

  “What did she tell him?” I asked.

  “She said, ’I’m needed by my friend Katrina to look after the Mataras at the complex. I can’t stay with you for several weeks due to her leaving to visit her family. I wouldn’t anyhow, not when you don’t love me enough to spend time with me. Think about what’s more important, and I’ll get back to you when I’m available again.’” Katrina did a perfect imitation of Megan’s formal tone, the voice she uses when she’s cranky with someone.

  “Ouch. I hope they don’t move on to the next Matara on their list if she’s really in love with them,” Candy laughed.

  “Please. Not an hour goes by when her com doesn’t go off while I’m trying to train her on my job,” Katrina snorted. “She lets them go to message, giggling like a fiend. And the presents haven’t stopped coming in every day since she told them off. She’s got those boys by their secondaries.”

  We hooted in delight. I hope that Clan Aslada does right by Megan. She’s great. They are great, even if they do let themselves get too wrapped up in their careers. If they can make the relationship good for all concerned, they’ll be as happy as they deserve.

  Candy had news too. “Stidmun might be re-assigned to Kalquor soon,” she beamed. “My sweetie and I will be able to be together for more than a few days at a time!”

  We cheered her fabulous news. “When will you know?” I asked.

  “Re-assignments take place next week. He’s been lobbying to be placed planetside to be with me, and a few trainers in the area are retiring, which would be even better since I work here.” Candy crossed her fingers and rolled her eyes prayerfully at the sky. “Please, please, let it happen!”

  “I hope so,” Katrina said. “Then you can build your family.”

  “Katrina, how about if he and I enjoy each other first?”

  “I need an army of grandbabies, both here and on Haven. Besides, if you have a hybrid child, Kalquor won’t kick you off for any reason,” Katrina pointed out.

  “My living situation is a selfish motive to have a baby,” Candy remonstrated. “Give me some credit for having a moral or two.”

  Our elder friend rolled her eyes. “I taught you better than that.” We laughed at her attempts to corrupt Candy.

  It was a long, wonderful lunch. We had lots of hugs at the end, promising to have another girls’ date as soon as Katrina returned. It’s going to be rough not having her around for a couple of months.

  We went our separate ways. Anrel and I hopped in my shuttle and moseyed over to the market
’s above-ground landing area. There’s a little girl who grows less little by the day. She outgrows clothes at a crazy rate. Hina is inheriting plenty for her daughter, while I’m stuck buying new for my kid.

  As I shopped for my sweetie, who had fallen asleep in the carry pouch I wore, I wondered if Hina would be handing those clothes back. I could be pregnant, but it’s still early to check.

  “What do you think?” I asked the slumbering Anrel. “Would you like a brother or a sister? I always wanted siblings.”

  I beamed at the tinier outfits, the ones made for newborns. Anrel had once been that small—smaller!—but it was difficult to remember her being so tiny. Despite her rough beginnings, she was getting big.

  Bigger than most of the other babies I saw in the shop, one of two stores we now have in the market that has a decent selection of clothes for children. The other moms and I, all Earthers, smiled at each other as we sorted through the offerings that had become more plentiful in the short while I’d been on Kalquor. Besides us, the older Earther store owner helped a lady with a special order. A giantess of a Kalquorian woman, wearing a flowing gown and headscarf that swathed her from head to toe, scrutinized a selection of men’s trousers in the adult clothing section.

  I considered a sweet little coat and hat set for winter. It was a size too large for Anrel now, but it would possibly be too small for her once the cold set in. As I wondered if I should take the chance and buy it, my com went off. The baby whimpered in her sleep, and I grabbed the unit to shut off its buzz.

  Unknown frequency. You two outshine all the rest.

  I blinked. My initial thought was that someone had hit the wrong frequency, sending me a message by mistake. I started to erase it.

  Then I remembered the message I’d received at work yesterday. I had a bad thought. A really, really bad thought.

  I looked around the shop again. Me, Anrel, other Earthers, and their babies. No man in sight. Certainly not the man I feared seeing the most.

  No windows to the outside of the market, either. Only window vids that didn’t allow for two-way viewing.

  I was creeped out anyhow. I walked up and down the aisles, making sure that Dramok Nang had not appeared out of nowhere to stalk me in a clothing store. He wasn’t, and I wondered if I was jumping at shadows. If Nang was near, wouldn’t he confront me? The last word I’d gotten from him, a message I’d received when heading to Kalquor, had made it clear he was operating under some delusion that I wanted him in my life again.

  I calmed down but remained watchful. It wasn’t until I was in my shuttle and heading home that I remembered there had been a Kalquorian woman in the shop too. She’d been well-covered by a gown and headscarf that in retrospect seemed rather heavy for a day as warm as today. A huge woman, taller than most of the men. She had not been there when the message came through.

  No way. He could not have gotten that close to us. Could he? And not have spoken?

  It probably wasn’t Nang. I’m positive it wasn’t him. I was still relieved to get Anrel home, where the house staff greeted us warmly. It’s good to be surrounded by people I trust. To not be alone and jumping at shadows.

  I’ve decided that the messages I’ve received, especially today’s, more than likely were a mistake as I’d first assumed. I’m going to show this latest text to Larten when he makes it home anyway.

  After all, I’m Shalia Monroe. Trouble loves me, so I can’t be blamed if I cringe at shadows.

  March 16, later

  I showed the bizarre message I’d received while shopping to Larten. I also told him about the one I’d gotten at headquarters, which Cifa was able to back me up on.

  “Could it be Nang? Or am I acting paranoid?” I asked.

  My Nobek frowned over the message. He played with the com’s settings, trying to figure out where the message had originated from. He had no luck.

  “It’s odd,” he admitted, his face dark and dangerous. “I’ll contact some people. It may be nothing, but I’ll feel better finding out who is sending these messages myself.”

  Seot and Cifa moved close, concern mirrored in their dissimilar features. Our Dramok asked, “Should we take extra precautions?”

  “Let me talk to my associates. And law enforcement. I’ll get back to you.”

  Larten commed those he hoped might help, but most of the people he wanted to talk to were off for the day. During dinner he told us, “I know someone who could set up a rebound signal on Shalia’s com. It won’t display a blocked frequency, but if she receives another message, we could see the location it’s being sent from. If you don’t mind me taking your portable unit with me to work tomorrow, my Matara?”

  “No problem. Here, take it now.” I handed it over.

  “Meanwhile, we’ll keep an eye on our Matara and child,” Seot said. He smiled at me apologetically. “I’m sorry to curtail your freedom, my love, but with any luck, it will be a short-term measure.”

  “You mean I have to be with one of you at all times?” I said, pretending to find it inconvenient. “Oh, to have to hang around men I adore! Woe is me!”

  That lightened the mood. I won’t pretend I’m not relieved that Anrel and I are to be chaperoned every second of the day until we can figure out if something Nang this way comes.

  I don’t think Larten was surprised when I asked for extra knife training before bed. Obsessed? Suspicious? Scared? No, not me. Not a bit.

  March 17

  I was on edge for my therapy appointment today. My abandonment issues, quiet for the most part, were set aside to discuss the possibility that Nang had made it to Kalquor.

  “One moment, I’m in denial. There is no real proof that he’s here. Nothing concrete. Then I start thinking I have to be on my guard, just in case. Because it would be stupid not to be, right? I need to be ready in case he comes for me or Anrel. But I catch myself acting all paranoid, like he’s going to jump out from behind a tree, or a rock, or a rack of clothes, or a kitchen cabinet. I’m either fooling myself that all is well, or I’m freaking out.”

  “Understandable.” Dr. Cafir offered the perfect percentage of concern, support, and serenity. I need to study her or find out where she took lessons to be able to do that.

  “Is it? Or are you being nice?”

  “A potential stalker is a terrifying prospect. You don’t know when or if they’ll show up. If they do, what is their initial goal? How far will they go to achieve it? How violent will they turn when you resist?”

  “Stop trying to cheer me up.”

  “You have to face the possibility of a worst-case scenario. Fortunately, you possess the kind of hard-won strength that can manage it. And you have one major factor in your favor.”

  I knew what she meant. “The tracking implants.”

  Cafir nodded. “Anrel’s implant gave you the ability to recover her quickly when Hina took her. I shudder to think of that occurring again, but it will save you two, should all else fail.” She made a kind of helpless fluttering motion with her hands. “You’re as prepared as you can be.”

  “I have to hope it will be enough if the worst happens.”

  “It’s awful to have to sit and wait for something that might not happen, not to mention second-guessing everything you do from now on.” Cafir scowled, her perfect equilibrium showing signs of fracturing. “I hate that you’re a target for this man.”

  “Well, as you said, I’m as ready as I’m going to be. Tracker, training, clanmates sticking close by, com rigged for location detection from incoming messages, authorities alerted—though they can’t do much without an actual Nang sighting.”

  “Tell your friends to be on the lookout when they’re around you. You can’t have too many eyes checking the surroundings in a case such as this.”

  Her suggestion gave me another disquieting idea. “They should watch out in any case. What if Nang went after them to get to me? I couldn’t handle the guilt if he did.”

  “Nang’s actions are his own. You can’t be blamed fo
r what a grown man, sane or not, does in his obsession with you.” Cafir was firm about that.

  “What do I do otherwise?” I said. “When I’m not preparing for pitched battle against a former lover, I mean.”

  “Live life. Enjoy it as much as the circumstances allow you to.” Cafir gave me a sly smile. “That’s the best revenge against an enemy.”

  March 19

  A couple of days have gone by since I was scared half to death by that last com message. All quiet on the home front. No sign of anything bizarre or the least bit weird. Law enforcement hasn’t found out anything.

  For the sake of everyone’s safety, at today’s foundation meeting I explained to the board about the whole embarrassing Nang thing. Hina was scandalized that a man would target me in such a manner. “Not a real man at all,” was her opinion, delivered with a sniff. “I’ll cave in his head if he comes anywhere near you or me.”

 

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