Lady Lure

by Speer, Flora

  “Of course.” She did not tell him that at that point in the proceedings, Elyr had always made a sarcastic comment about her previous performances, followed by a warning to her to do better this time. But unconstrained by any demands, she would do what seemed to please Halvo. That thought pleased Perri.

  “I can see,” she said, “that our discussion has fueled your need.”

  She knelt beside Halvo. Reaching out one hand she laid it over his half-erect masculinity. Halvo drew in a short breath but lay quite still. Beneath her fingers she detected a swift surge of increasing hardness. Gently she manipulated him through his clothing until he shifted restlessly, uncrossing his ankles.

  “Perri.” His breath was becoming ragged.

  “Yes, Halvo. Just lie still. I will tend to your need.” She saw his face go hard and reminded herself that he did not like her to be subservient. She decided she would take the opportunity to show Halvo just how active she could be.

  She lifted his tunic and unfastened his trousers. At once his engorged flesh sprang forth. Keeping her touch light, Perri began to stroke him. Halvo grew harder and larger, his eager need throbbing in her hands. Perri bent her head to lap the tip of him with her tongue.

  Halvo’s hands clamped around her wrists, pulling her away, holding her so they were face-to-face.

  “This is what you did for Elyr?” he said. “Every time you were together and without removing your clothes?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said.

  “He never did anything else with you?”

  “Sometimes he wished me to take him in my mouth. He taught me how to do it so I would not hurt him. Halvo, if you found my fingers too rough, I can be more gentle. You must be desperately uncomfortable.” She glanced at the source of his discomfort, then looked into his eyes.

  “You cannot possibly imagine how uncomfortable I am,” Halvo said. “But before we go any farther, I want to be certain that we understand each other. Did Elyr do anything to relieve your discomfort?”

  “With him, I never experienced discomfort. I felt nothing but indifference toward him. I did dislike having to provide the aid he required, because it was something he demanded of me, regardless of my feelings.”

  “Did Elyr have other wives or mistresses whom he may have preferred to you? Or was what he made you do simply the Regulan method of birth control?”

  “I do not know of any other women with whom Elyr found comfort,” Perri said. “But then, as you know, much was deliberately concealed from me. Halvo, I see now how wrong it was for me to touch you the way I just did.”

  “It was not wrong!” he said. “Blast Elyr! If I ever have the chance, I may well strangle him for the way he treated you. Perri, what you just did is part of a perfectly normal repertoire of lovemaking skills. As you now realize, it is not everything. And it is only wrong if there is coercion involved, which apparently was the case with you.”

  “Elyr insisted. I could not refuse him. He was my betrothed.”

  “I understand. You were not to blame, Perri. By the way,” Halvo said, “what you did was so delightful that I remain extremely uncomfortable, though my only serious complaint about the process is that I am still fully clothed. And so, unfortunately, are you. Do you think we could remedy this situation in the near future?”

  “I have a proposal to make to you,” Perri said.

  “Yes?” Halvo brought her hands to his lips and began kissing them. “I am listening.”

  “I suggest that we attempt to discover a means of blending the Demarian way and the Regulan.”

  “What a good idea.” Halvo put on a serious face, but his eyes were dancing. “In my capacity as an admiral, I have occasionally been called upon to mediate disputes and assist in drawing up treaties, so I am aware of several interesting methods of carrying on negotiations between diverse cultures. Of course, considerable patience is usually required when translating the messages given and received, in order to be sure no misunderstandings occur. And then, one must always take care not to insult either involved party.”

  “Halvo, you are teasing me.”

  “Am I? How can you be sure?”

  “I have never insulted you!”

  “Oho! I could mention an occasion or two. However, in the interests of interplanetary peace, I will note only your peculiar insistence that I should remain fully dressed during the most intimate moments.”

  “It is the Regulan way!” Pern’s pointed chin tilted upward.

  “It is not the Demarian way!” Halvo’s eyes showed a dangerous sparkle.

  “If you wish to be unclothed, I will unclothe you, Admiral!” With that, Perri flung herself at him, tugging hard at his tunic. Halvo burst into laughter and rolled over, pulling Perri along with him. She ended with her back jammed against the smooth rock wall and Halvo tight against her.

  “Do you see how easily negotiations can break down if one is not careful?” he whispered. “It appears that we will be obliged to look farther afield in order to find an acceptable compromise to end our disagreement, some activity that is neither Regulan nor Demarian.”

  Perri was not sure how she ought to react. Never having associated sex with laughter, she was bewildered by Halvo’s actions and by his joking words. But she did like the sensation of his strong body lying along hers, and she held tightly to him.

  “For example,” Halvo murmured, his mouth against her throat, “we might attempt the Jugarian method, though since we lack antennae, we will probably not succeed in attaining the exquisite and prolonged ecstasy that well-mated Jugarians supposedly reach.”

  “Have you made love to a Jugarian woman that you know about this supposed ecstasy?” Perri asked, still clinging to him and achingly aware of his hardness pushing against her abdomen.

  “Not I, though I was once told how it is done, in case I should ever need to know.”

  “So that’s how admirals spend their time! You huddle together, gossiping about the reproductive customs of the various Races!” If he was not going to allow her to touch that rigid segment of his body with her hands again, then she wished he would revert to Demarian custom and do what he had done the last time they had lain together. The memory made her warm, and that warmth growing inside her made her long for a recurrence of the intimate closeness and the stimulating friction. If only ….

  “Perri, would you mind telling me exactly what you are trying to do?” Halvo said. “You are driving me mad.”

  “I beg your pardon. I will stop at once.” She had been moving around in his arms, attempting to find a position in which that wonderful, hard part of him could fit into the right place in her body. She was growing hotter and more frantic by the moment and she did not know how to tell him what she wanted so he could do it in time. She wanted him to do it soon, immediately if possible. She did not think she could live much longer without Halvo inside her.

  “Then there is the Styxian way.” His tongue touched the corner of her mouth. “Though we do not have scales to become iridescent as our passion rises, we might find the Styxian version of lovemaking an interesting variation. Have you an opinion on this matter?”

  “No.” Perri gasped.

  “Well, then, since you are not particularly interested, perhaps we should imitate the Styxians another time. While you have a beautiful back and alluring buttocks, I do think I would prefer to look at your face while we make love.”

  “The Styxians do what?” Perri became aware of Halvo’s hands at the waist of her trousers, pulling them downward. She welcomed what he was doing, but before she completely lost her wits to passion, she had a question or two to ask. “From behind? How?”

  “You know, don’t you, that Styxians are descended from reptiles? I am told their reproductive processes are fascinating to anthropologists.” Halvo’s hands caressed the bare skin of Pern’s flanks, which he had just exposed to the cool cavern air. “Then there are the Famorat, a mysterious Race living on the tangential border of the Jurisdiction. They cannot mate unless th
ere are three Famorati present.”

  “Halvo, stop talking! Oh, please, I want you – yes, I want you there!” Their legs were tangled together and Halvo’s skillful fingers were arranging their bodies just as Perri desired. They were lying face-to-face, with Perri braced against the cavern wall. Halvo’s hands were on her hips so he could pull her closer to meet his vigorous thrusts.

  Behind Perri’s closed lids strange images swam, the result of the shocking things Halvo had just told her. And as he must have expected, numerous questions tumbled through her mind.

  While still living on Regula, she had seen on her telscan a visiting delegation of Jugarian diplomats. They were humanoid in shape, with pale gray skin and twin antennae on their hairless heads. The antennae had changed color with their moods. What color would their antennae be while a Jugarian was in the transports of sexual passion?

  What did a Styxian female feel when, her scales glowing, she was mounted from behind? Did it hurt? Or did she find as much joy in her peculiar mating as Perri was finding with Halvo? And how could the Famorati combine three at once? How did they all fit together?

  Did the females of other Races love, as she loved Halvo? And she did love him. She had known love in her earlier life, for her parents and for Melri. What she felt for Halvo was similar, yet with the added dimensions of an intense physical attraction and a sense of equality with him that she had never experienced with anyone else.

  These wisps of thought, floating through her mind, did not distract her in the least from what Halvo was doing or from her own body’s response to him. In fact, the new information enhanced her reactions, which she suspected was just as Halvo had intended. Nor did her thoughts or questions last for very long. Soon Perri was completely caught up in Halvo’s love-making and thinking of nothing else. Then she was incapable of thinking of anything at all.

  Once more Halvo pulled her hips forward while he thrust hard into her. He stayed there, buried deep, until Perri had found complete release for all discomfort and Halvo had followed her into a similar, male state of contentment.

  “It is always so satisfying to be able to bring negotiations to a happy conclusion,” he murmured a short time later.

  “Is it a Demarian custom to tease your women into compliance?” she asked in mock irritation. “Or to torment them with stories of how the other Races mate?”

  “I thought you would find the knowledge interesting and, perhaps, useful.” There was an undertone of amusement in his response.

  “Thank you for your efforts to advance my education. I am aware that I was sadly deficient in certain areas until you undertook to enlighten me.”

  “If you have any further questions, do not hesitate to ask.”

  “About the Famorat,” she said.

  “I knew you would be intrigued by that particular piece of information. Oh, Perri, the quirks of your mind will never cease to delight me.” Halvo began to laugh. Lying back on the blanket he pulled Perri into his arms again. She rested her head against his heaving chest while his laughter rang through the cavern, echoing off the walls. Halvo laughed until his cheeks were wet with tears.

  When he was calmer, he told her what she wanted to know. By the time he was finished with his explanations they were both fully ready to undertake their own two-person variation on Famorat custom. As Halvo demonstrated for her, Perri wondered why any couple would want to add a third, possibly disruptive, personality to the equation when two was so obviously the perfect number required for complete happiness.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Lady Kalina, you are magnificent.” Jyrit gazed in admiration at the wine-red robes the First Lady of the Jurisdiction was wearing. The high-necked, long-sleeved gown fell to Kalina’s feet in dignified folds. The enveloping cloak was the same color as the dress, but it was transparent. Both garments were perfectly plain.

  However, Kalina was not without adornment. The thin gold diadem of a Demarian noblewoman circled her brow. Gold spirals curled about her ears, and her heavy gold necklace was studded with red-gold Styxian sunstones, the rarest and most valuable jewels in the galaxy. The wide bracelets on either wrist were also set with sunstones.

  Behind Kalina stood her two aides, both dark-haired, middle-aged Demarian women robed alike in gowns of deepest green.

  “Whenever I don state robes, I feel as if I have been prepared for my own funeral,” Kalina said, responding to Jyrit’s compliment with self-mocking humor.

  “In this particular case, perhaps you ought to think of those garments as a costume suiting the role you must play on this day,” Jyrit said.

  “So I shall.” Kalina smiled warmly at the captain of the Krontar. A firm comradeship had grown between them during the voyage from Capital to Regula, a relationship based upon a mutual determination to discover what had happened to Halvo. Kalina understood that, for Jyrit, the search was a matter of deep personal honor.

  “Sorry to be late, sir. I was instructing the security team.” Armaments Officer Dysia appeared in the captain’s reception room. Like Jyrit, she was clad in the silver-trimmed, dark blue dress uniform of the Jurisdiction Service. Both officers wore short, red-lined formal capes over their jackets and trousers and carried the anachronistic silver dress helmets that were seldom actually worn. Behind Dysia six members of the ship’s security guard, also in full dress uniform, filed in and stood waiting patiently.

  “Jyrit, you have arranged a splendid retinue,” Kalina said, giving those in the room a quick inspection. “We ought to impress the Regulan Hierarchy. Don’t you think so?”

  “Madam, were you to descend to Regula alone and in everyday clothing, you would still impress the Hierarchy by your honesty and by the force of your character,” Jyrit said. Turning to his armaments officer he added, “Dysia, you have made an intensive study of Regulan society during our journey here. Have you any last-minute advice for us before we disembark?”

  “Only to remind each member of our party not to say anything we would not want overheard,” Dysia said. “We all know the Regulans are masters of intrigue and they are certain to have listening devices planted in anticipation of any unguarded remarks we might make. Unless there is a clear and urgent need to do otherwise while we are on the planet’s surface, I suggest that we confine our conversation to polite trivialities and to questions phrased to elicit information while not giving away anything. After we return to the Krontar and can talk freely again, we can put together what each of us has been able to learn. Our watchword on Regula should be caution.”

  “Agreed.” Kalina nodded her approval of Dysia’s warnings.

  “Lady Kalina,” one of her aides said somewhat nervously, “won’t this be a dangerous visit? Shouldn’t we wear sheer body armor? We will be in full range of the entire Regulan Hierarchy.”

  “Amalla, I am surprised at you.” Kalina frowned.

  “It is not for myself I am concerned, but for you,” Amalla cried. “I am sure Leader Almaric is worried about your safety, too.”

  “If you fear treachery, walk in the most public places,”“ Kalina said, quoting an old Demarian proverb.

  “No one would dare to harm Lady Kalina, nor any member of her retinue, lest the full force of the Jurisdiction be turned against Regula,” Jyrit said. “No, our greatest caution should not be for our physical safety, but for the misspoken word. As of this moment, guard everything you say.”

  Kalina had insisted that her visit to Regula must be a brief and informal one. Nevertheless, the ceremonies arranged to greet the First Lady of the Jurisdiction proved to be long and tedious. The day was well into its second half before the honored guests were led away from the Great Plaza, out of the too bright, coppery sunshine and into the shade of the reception hall of the main government building, where a banquet was to take place. The hall was open on three sides, allowing a fine view of the governmental gardens, which included an artificial lake and beds of multicolored flowers. To Kalina’s relief a pleasant breeze, scented by the flowers, blew through th
e hall. However, she was not pleased when she beheld the long table set with silver dishes and utensils. The number of chairs lined up at the table was enough to alarm her.

  “My dear friend,” Kalina said to the Chief Hierarch, who was her escort for the occasion, “it was my hope that we might enjoy a private conversation.”

  “Dear lady, I must protest your wish for privacy.” The Chief Hierarch smiled upon Kalina with great benevolence. His silvery robes glinted as he walked, his white hair and beard and even his thick, white eyebrows were perfectly trimmed and combed. He was the very image of a pure-minded, openhearted ruler welcoming a long-awaited guest. “We could not deny our beloved people a glimpse of the first government representative sent to us from Capital. Perhaps you do not fully comprehend how deeply honored we Regulans are by your presence among us.”

  “As I explained to you before we arrived, my dear Chief Hierarch, this is not an official visit. I come to you in great urgency, hoping that you will be able to provide some clue to help me solve the mystery of my son’s disappearance.”

  “Since our first conversation while you were still days away from us, dearest Lady Kalina, the entire resources of the Regulan Hierarchy have been devoted to discovering just such a clue.” The Chief Hierarch spoke with such sympathy and sweet sincerity that Kalina, experienced as she was in diplomacy, was certain he was lying.

  Guarding her tongue and hiding her reluctance, Kalina allowed the Chief Hierarch to lead her to the head of the elaborately set banquet table. As her first sight of the complicated place settings had led her to fear would be the case, the feast consisted of many courses and much wine. The service was almost painfully slow. Kalina knew why. The Regulan Hierarchy was going to keep its guests in the banquet hall for as long as possible. There, Kalina and the others would be unable to talk with anyone but carefully selected people who were no doubt as firmly cautioned to be discreet as were the members of Kalina’s own party. Nothing was to be left to chance, not a single hint of uncontrolled information was to be leaked to the folk from the Krontar. And it was all done with such generosity, such hospitality, and so many promises of help that any protest would seem to be the height of rudeness.