“Brothel-ship” didn’t really do the mammoth justice. It more or less resembled a city of rock and steel ripped out of some planet and sent floating into space. Lights of every known color flashed and twinkled and glowed along its shiny surface. Bristling with buildings and antennas, the ship amalgamated every entertainment enterprise imaginable. Sekmeth sent a request for docking. Beside him, Kim snorted as she twisted one of her shiny white hair spikes.
“What is amusing?”
“This,” she replied, pointing to the vast vessel. “And god created the Gorgosh so man could commit all cardinal sins in one convenient location.”
Sekmeth burst out laughing. “Not man—Yithian. But fairly assessed.”
He could tell she wanted to smile but forced herself not to. As if remembering what he’d told her about punishing her captain, Kim frowned and crossed her arms tightly against her chest.
“Prepare for docking,” came the reply from the Gorgosh.
With lightning-quick fingers, Kim clicked on a series of keys and activated the ship’s docking clamps. Clunks reverberated along the hull. Maneuvering the Femme Metal with practiced ease, she burned just enough fuel to pull the ship alongside the giant floating city’s docks situated on its underbelly. An insect landing under the leaf of a plant, the ship shuddered as its clamps fastened on their assigned hatch. One long quiver tightened his stomach then the ship powered down and the little female pushed her computer away. She turned to look at him with an expression he found hard to sustain.
“Yithians are not savages, woman-child. You will be well treated here.”
Why did he feel the need to comfort this human, his prey? He’d never felt as though he had to before. He’d delivered others before, some as young as she. He shook his head. Fatigue, no doubt. He’d make sure to stay onboard the Gorgosh for a few days before he took on another assignment.
“Where is the onboard communication control?”
Kim pointed to a small yellow button. He pressed and held it. “I will disembark and take the little one with me to arrange for your transfer. If you do not cooperate with security personnel, I will kill her.” He stood. “Follow me.”
She did, albeit reluctantly. Just in case, he slipped on her fragile neck a spare inhibitor he found in the weapons’ bay. He led her to the airlock and breathed in the fresh air of the Gorgosh when the hatch hissed open. Sounds assaulted his ears. After the quietness of the little ship and deep space, the floating city’s chaos placated his breath for a few seconds.
“This way.”
He led the little human through a maze of passageways and docking ports, all numbered in Yithian but bearing symbols other species could understand. A hovercraft already waited for him when he emerged from the terminal. It looked as though it had been dunked in bright green liquid plastic. A computer voice informed him Drokesh waited in his office. Amid a whirr of lights, sounds and smells, the small craft lifted off and zoomed between buildings, zigzagged at dizzying speeds among other crafts like it, before finally setting on the roof of a tall glass building. Overhead, the dome-shaped field, which kept the vacuum of space at bay, gleamed a smoky blue.
After nodding to the security guard who held the door open, he strode across the landing pad. Other guards escorted him to the building proper. Amid the Yithian males, the woman-child seemed even smaller. Her shoulders looked tight and drawn in. He waited for the elevator to get them down to the story below his feet. Finally, the door opened and he stepped onto the plush carpet of his customer’s office.
“Ah, Sekmeth, finally.”
Drokesh walked out of a door to the right and slid it closed behind him. He only wore flowing pants made of shiny black material. Tattoos of his hunts gleamed with freshly retouched ink. Drokesh had been as fearsome a Hunter as he was a shrewd businessman now. Yet Sekmeth never understood why the older Yithian had chosen to run a brothel-ship instead of ending his days during a hunt.
“As agreed.” Sekmeth pulled the cards from his pocket and extended them to Drokesh.
“Is this the woman-child?” Drokesh asked. The multitude of rings on his ears and face glittered as he drew near and leaned close to her face. She obviously fought not to recoil. The difference in height was almost ridiculous.
“Three adult females, as well,” Sekmeth replied, pushing the cards in the other’s bejeweled hand.
Drokesh took them and flipped through. He stopped on one and turned it so Sekmeth could see. He grinned a sharp-toothed grin. “This one is particularly pleasing.”
Sekmeth stared into Alexandra Novona’s face for a second. “She is. They all have their unique attributes.”
The woman-child looked down at her feet.
Drokesh chuckled. The sound of a cracked bell. A tic pulled at Sekmeth’s eyelid. He rubbed his face and wished for this interview to end soon.
“You look tired, Hunter. Come and enjoy some rest. By the looks of these humans, you have earned it.” Drokesh’s gaze lingered on the little human again. “I may decide to keep one or two for myself.” Kim visibly stiffened.
Sekmeth fought the impulse to place his hand over her shoulder. “My fee?”
Drokesh nodded then crossed the length of the huge office. After flicking a wall panel open, he slid a plastic envelope out and brought it back to Sekmeth. “Two hundred thousand credits will be transferred to your ID. Here is the transfer deed.”
“What about my additional fees for the ship?”
Drokesh shrugged. “Keep it. I have no use for such a small, worthless craft.” He winked at the woman-child and left through the same door.
With him gone, Sekmeth sensed the human relax and start to breathe again.
“That was totally gross. And, just so you know, my ship’s not worthless.”
“To him it is. And to me as well.” Irritated in more ways than he cared to admit, Sekmeth led the human back to the ship where security personnel already waited to take charge of the newest “employees”.
He stood as they were brought out, inhibitors snugly in place. The large one followed placidly, though the size of her arms betrayed the strength lying dormant. Glowering fiercely, the dark female strode past without so much as a glance for him.
Then she emerged from the ship.
The captain’s steel blue eyes killed him several times as she crossed the landing pad and marched past him. She managed a quick wink to the little one who tried to show fortitude by pumping out her small chest.
Sekmeth turned away from the woman-child. He would do well to engage in his post-hunt routine before the mood left him. It was enough to struggle with the self-doubts plaguing him, he didn’t need the guilt as well. All he wanted was a long, hot bath and some entertainment to dull his mind.
A few minutes later he stood in the lobby of one of his favorite parlors. As soon as he stepped in, a tiny Mers female greeted him, showed him to one of the luxury suites nestled deep within the watery building. Heated fountains gurgled, unseen behind frosted glass walls where sheets of water fell down to pebbled channels. A steaming bath—more a rectangular hole in the tiled ground—awaited him, and he slid out of his clothes to sink into the searing water with a contented sigh. Scented steam flowed out of jets along the bath’s rim, arced a few inches in the air to settle down into the water, which came up to his chest. Stretching his long legs out, he let the water’s music dull his irritation.
A small sound announced the first part of the parlor’s specialty. Two Mers slid into the room, bearing trays of food and the special brew that blunted everything but physical sensations. He wolfed down the food, tiny rolls of seaweed with a vinegary sauce then burned his lips drinking the first cup of the pungent infusion. Already, his shoulders relaxed. He sunk deeper into the water.
When they’d left, a tall and wiry older Yithian female walked in. She wore nothing but rows of black crystals around her waist and a regal smile on her fair face. This one he knew well, remembered vividly her last performance. His member remembered as well.
>
“I greet you, Hunter Sekmeth.”
“I greet you, Mistress,” he replied, gazing down the glorious body where lines and tiny scars created a web he longed to pluck.
“Would you enjoy watching Mistress at work or would you rather participate?”
Sekmeth grinned widely. “Admiring your work is participating.”
She seemed pleased with his answer and nodded. A moment later, another Yithian female, this one a good number of years younger, stepped in. What she lacked in attractive skin pattern, she more than made up for in tone and sinewy muscle. Her hair was very long, past her waist, and had been cut square. She also wore a crystal belt. But in her hands were two things that made Sekmeth sit up straighter. A Ghars and a length of silver ribbon. The Ghars gleamed in the young female’s hand and she gave it to the Mistress. Expertly, she rolled the wand in her hands until it glowed golden. She looked down at Sekmeth who nodded.
With the hot brew coursing through his veins, Sekmeth watched as the older female took the other by the hand and twirled her around as a dancer would. Music wafted down from the ceiling, reaching his buzzing ears. He leaned his head against the bath’s edge. The jets stopped, the water became smooth as silk while the temperature rose to accommodate Yithians’ taste for heat. Sweat created a shine over both females as the Mistress led her companion to the edge of the bath where both knelt, inviting Sekmeth to caress the young thigh, the smooth hip. He did, letting his fingers gently graze the blue Yithian skin.
After dipping the Ghars in the water, the Mistress ran it along the other’s leg, up and down, over her backside, then between the small breasts. A moan escaped the young Yithian who spread her knees over the tiled floor, curved and undulated with the music. Following the rhythm, the older female let the Ghars reach from behind and low over the other’s belly, before angling it so it rubbed along the hairless, wet-looking entry. All the while, she watched intently for Sekmeth’s reactions.
It was all he could do not to burst out of the water and take them both. Yet as pleasing as the performance was, his mind kept changing things. A detail here, a feature there, until the older Yithian resembled a certain human he knew. But because of the mind-numbing infusion, Sekmeth couldn’t suppress the fantasy taking hold, until he watched not two blue-skinned females, but Alexandra Novona and the younger Yithian.
The human pulled her companion up to a standing position where she guided her toward the wall. A small ring protruded from the smooth surface, and she threaded the length of ribbon in, letting the looped ends dangle. Knowing what was coming, Sekmeth felt his eyes narrow, his lips tighten with anticipation.
Alexandra Novona made the Yithian female turn to face the wall and snaked both hands in the ribbon. Standing back to admire the blue-skinned beauty stretched taut, the woman turned to Sekmeth and smiled. The Ghars glowed brightly now, gold and rosy as an opal, and the human used it along the inside of the Yithian female’s legs. From ankles to cheeks then back down again before transferring it to her own body, letting it trace a teasing path down her belly, up between her breasts and along her lips.
Thanks to the brew, Sekmeth could watch it without his seed exploding out of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his ring glowing fiercely.
Twisting the Yithian’s silver hair into a tight coil, Alexandra Novona fisted it and pulled, forcing the other’s head back. With her feet, she spread the other’s legs.
“Shall I?” the human asked, though Sekmeth knew it was the Mistress speaking. He nodded, licking his lips.
She stroked the inside of the blue thighs until the Yithian was writhing. Then the Ghars went in, deep, its radiance making the skin around the entry glow blue-white. A hiss escaped the female while her sheath received slow and leisurely thrusts. Muscles rippled under the human skin, and Sekmeth thought he would lose it. Black curls stuck to her forehead, Alexandra Novona worked the rod in and out, unhurriedly, according to the music. Up over the females’ heads, a tiny jet spurted steam down on them both. The sheen covering both bodies created mesmerizing points of light.
Then the music intensified. So did the human’s thrusts, matched by groans of pleasure from the Yithian. A tempo pounded increasingly louder, steam now turned to water and cascaded over both females, Sekmeth’s bath water rose in temperature.
In. Out. Hard and fast, Alexandra Novona plunged the Ghars in the Yithian who arched her head back, aided by the fistful of hair in the human’s hand. His own heartbeat drowned the music. He bit his lip, threw his head back. His seed gushed out of his throbbing member.
A ragged cry of bliss echoed in the room as the Yithian female pulled hard against the ribbon around her wrists. Behind her, the human had left the other’s hair so she could reach in front and grab a breast. Still driving the Ghars up, deeper, all the way to her knuckles, she pressed her whole length against the other. They stayed thus a long time, with Sekmeth panting ragged breaths.
After a while the Mistress returned to her usual form, pulled the darkened Ghars out of her slumped companion. She arched an eyebrow when she noticed Sekmeth’s glowing ring. A look of pride flashed across her face and, beckoning to the other, she left the room.
Though she was undoubtedly thinking herself the cause of the ring’s glow, Sekmeth knew it had nothing to do with either Yithian. It was a certain human female who’d made his ring betray his emotions. And a sweet betrayal it was.
Chapter Nine
“It’s all good, Cap’n,” Ebinay said as a pair of fierce-looking Yithian males led her down a brightly lit corridor lined with potted plants. “You’ll see.”
Alex watched the back of her second-in-command as the trio left the elevator, which was huge in comparison to any she’d entered before. Probably to accommodate all the species using it. A small chime announced another floor. Annabelle, four guards and she remained behind, going down more levels. She didn’t even know why they were separating the group. Fiddling with her inhibitor brought a sharp glance from one of the guards. She glowered back. As soon as the chance came, she’d take it.
A chime sounded and the steel doors slid back and two more guards, Annabelle between them, stepped off the elevator. This level resembled some sort of prison, with grills on the windows and thick-looking doors. The woman left without a backward glance. Unflappable Annabelle. Alex almost laughed. Almost.
“Where you taking me?”
One of the remaining two guards looked back at her but said nothing. They went down two more levels. The chime sounded and when the door opened, Alex wanted to whistle her appreciation but thought better of it. Luxury. No other word for it.
Here though, the place teemed with people. Some wore silvery bands around their necks, others didn’t. She garnered quite a bit of attention as she and her escort stepped off the elevator and crossed what resembled the grand hall of some massive mansion. Not many humans in attendance. Well, make that no other human period. So she’d be a delicacy. Great.
Her eyes scanning the place, Alex followed her escort through the airy room. They didn’t carry weapons as far as she could see. Even with the inhibitors, she’d had thought they’d arm their guards. Though, come to think of it, why would a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound Yithian need a weapon?
Alex gazed up at chandeliers that looked very much like those humans would come up with and which hung from coffered ceilings at least twenty feet high. Members of both—make that all—genders and ranging four species she could identify stopped to watch her. She felt ill at ease under the scrutiny but would chew rivets before she let it show.
Not many places to hide. Save for the elevator. If she could get to it, she could have a chance. A chance for what, though? To get the hell beaten out of her by very large Yithians? Where would she go if she managed to escape the pair?
Don’t know, don’t care.
Sometimes, she did things she couldn’t explain but which felt right at the time. Escaping potential harm numbered among those. She’d spent most her life hating Yithians—still d
id, one in particular—and years selling people to places like this, and now to look at her, walking on a Yithian brothel-ship. The irony never ended.
A female Naray crossed their path and smiled at one of Alex’s guards. He returned the favor, even made some polite comment about her glossy scales. The trio stopped so her guard could exchange words with what looked very much like a future date. People had stopped staring by then and had continued on their business. Alex crossed her arms and looked around. Behind her, maybe fifty feet, the elevator chimed.
Without thinking, Alex bolted.
She must have caused quite a shock for people yelped to get out of the way. She thundered past a pair of tiny Mers. An older Yithian male stepped out of the elevator. Alex pumped her legs as fast and hard as she could. The thick steel doors began to slide back. She’d make it!
She cursed when something tackled her. To the hard glossy floor she sprawled, knocking her elbows and knees and hips. Goddamn, her knees hurt! Blue hands grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her clean off the floor. Both her guards grinned.
“We should have more humans here,” one said to the other in English. An emphatic nod answered him.
Alex wanted to thrash against them, kick them in their baby blue faces but feared getting a jolt for her efforts. Panting, she forced her heart to quiet down as the pair carried her the rest of the way, each by an arm.
“There,” one of the Yithians said as he led her past translucent columns standing guard to some monstrous glass door. The size dwarfed Alex, even the two Yithians.
It slid noiselessly when they stepped up to it. One of her guards said something to a thick Yithian female. She nodded and the people gathered around her left.
With a pleasant grin on her handsome face, she opened her arms. “Drokesh had not exaggerated. Welcome, Alexandra Novona. Are you hungry? Tired? I will have your room ready in a short while.”
As much as Alex tried to hate the Yithian and make it really apparent, she found it hard to do, especially since no one there seemed overly sad or damaged. Save for the odd inhibitor gleaming here and there. She reached to touch her own. Damned thing.
Femme Metal Page 8
