Worthy of a Master: The Tale of a Perfect Slave

by Chelsea Shepard

  I hadn't been quite back myself, but I couldn't sit on Lodel's knees forever.

  Lodel watched me wake up with a satisfied smirk on his face.

  "Are you okay? Would you like something to drink?"

  His unbearable arrogance was gone. He had mastered me; he could afford being gentle.

  I nodded and realized he had removed my gag and the rope tying my hands together. Apparently, the freegirl game was over.

  Lodel helped me to my feet, and we walked down to the food counter, where Naari caught up with me.

  "Are you all right, Megan?" he asked, visibly concerned. "Why didn't you stay with me?"

  I couldn't answer that one. Instead, I talked about the show, Jova, Myhre, anything but what had just happened to me. Myhre joined us to explain that she and Jova were going to a relaxation room and welcomed their friends to come along.

  The strangers invited to swell the audience had mostly deduced that it was time to prolong their entertainment elsewhere in the Twilight. Lodel was among them, but before making for the door, he tried his luck with me.

  "Will you meet me later?" he asked. "And spend the night with me?"

  "Thanks, but no. I'd rather stay with my friends tonight."

  He seemed prepared for my refusal and his next line. "Some other time, then?"

  My answer was a definite no, but I smiled. "Maybe."

  Unexpectedly, he took my hand and kissed the inside of my wrist.

  "I'll know where to find you," he said before turning his back and walking out.

  When he was out of sight, I regretted not thanking him for ... well, for what, exactly? Forcing me to come? It was a good thing I was too stunned to say something silly.

  There were ten people left in the room, including Myhre and Jova. While he was slowly emerging from his blissful void, we all cleaned up the room. The physical activity kept me nicely distracted and helped me shake off my post-orgasmic stupor.

  The rest of the evening was uneventful. We retreated to a quiet salon built to help play partners – and their audience – relax after a performance, and chatted until Myhre fell asleep. By then, Jova was fully awake. Thanking us again for our presence and wishing us goodnight, he carried his lover to their bedroom with the care of a mother for her baby. We all followed him to our respective rooms.

  Except Naari, who came to mine.

  Feeling guilty about the Lodel incident, I didn't resist him. We made love tenderly and fell asleep in each other's arms.

  And now what?

  I stared at Naari's face. His features were smooth and fine. Time hadn't affected him the way it had Khiru. Naari was a kind man without a troublesome past. He was also funny and smart. And a caring Northie. He deserved to be loved as a lover, not just a friend.

  I got up and went to the bathroom. If I wanted to get over Khiru, I needed to change my tactics. Surrendering to every dominant Khyrian who came my way was not a sustainable option. First, Phylla, then Lodel. Both of them had defeated me. Against my will, yet without any compelling resistance, they had desecrated my private parts and forced me to climax. What felt good and even necessary felt awfully wrong later. To Khyrians, these games were innocent, hardly worth mentioning. But I wasn't one of them. As much as I wanted to make their lifestyle mine, especially because it was a reflection of my dearest fantasies, I might not be up to it. As an Earthling, I'd been conditioned to associate sex with love. Even in my erotic dreams, I'd always submit to a dominant I had feelings for, a master who would own my body, heart and soul as I would own his. Love wasn't an option. It was a precondition.

  On the other hand, playing with strangers had a certain appeal. As I'd had the chance to observe twice, it allows one to focus on physical sensations. The reward was equally fulfilling.

  But I couldn't go on surrendering to just anyone. Phylla and Lodel had been considerate and honest. I might not be so lucky the next time. Myhre was right. I shouldn't submit if I didn't want to.

  Perhaps the solution lay in a compromise. I would indulge in erotic games with partners I would cautiously choose, and always under my rules. No more of this hunting business.

  This conclusion brought my thoughts back to Khiru, who wasn't interested in pursuing me at all. As I returned to the bedroom, Naari woke up.

  After a common breakfast, we went off on our own errands without any commitment for later.

  After the emotional overload of the birthday party, I banished all thoughts of sex, love and the complicated affairs of the heart. Instead, I dedicated my time and efforts to the study of Khyra as a planet.

  Vhar's classes had extended beyond linguistics to geography as well as history and science. We – or rather, I – had decided to put an end to our sexual activities. They always made me uncomfortable the next day, although I could never quite explain why to Vhar. He assumed it was an "Earth" thing and was considerate enough not to dwell on the subject. While he had plenty of other female and male partners to play with, he valued our nascent friendship too much to make an issue out of it.

  Every day, he asked me what I'd like to study, and we would cover the subject as comprehensively as possible.

  I learned that life on Khyra was extremely regulated. Born in a country where individual freedom wasn't an empty expression, I was disturbed to find out that on Khyra, the choice of a school, a house and, to a certain extent, a job came under the purview of local or regional councils. Vhar insisted that the rules were fair and logical. A bachelor would get a smaller house than a family. A shuttle pilot who could fly to work would be located in the suburbs, while those without personal transportation would be housed closer to their workplace. Schools were assigned strictly by geography, and the selection of a career was strongly influenced by academic results. Someone with outstanding capacities in mathematics had no chance of working on a farm.

  "What if, despite their talent, they're not interested in formulas and really want to grow vegetables?" I asked Vhar.

  "That's easy. Our jobs only take up half the day. After that, we're all responsible for tasks of common interest. Those not pleased with their work assignment are usually offered a choice when it comes to communal tasks. Your unhappy mathematician would be sent to work in the fields, and that would probably solve his problem."

  "Still, it's awfully rude to negate a person's right to choose their job."

  "Is everyone on Earth happy with their career?"

  There was sarcasm in his voice, and uncertainty in my mind. No, not everyone liked their jobs on Earth. Actually, only a rare minority did. In this case, our "freedom" was only a nice theory.

  "See?" Vhar was pleased with my sullen expression. "Our system is based on facts and talents, not dreams and delusions. I'm not saying it works for all, but it does for a large majority."

  Vhar gave me additional details, like how "salaries" didn't exist, nor even money. Food was available for free within normal quantities. Housing, health care, public transportation, clothes and basic commodities were provided, too. Quotas existed for entertainment, travel and any individual need. They were usually high enough, and it was possible to file a request for more particular requirements. Basically, the wealth of the planet was distributed fairly to its inhabitants, with few reasons to complain.

  Khyra's social system sounded like Marxism in a very rich, technological state.

  Comfort, however, wasn't the only aspiration of man. It was hard for some of us to follow the herd, even when the meadow was strewn with green grass.

  "Is it possible to escape those rules?" I asked.

  "What do you mean?"

  Vhar seemed shocked, as if he couldn't fathom why someone would want to escape paradise.

  "I mean, some people hate living by the rules, and would rather struggle on their own than be pampered according to strict standards."

  "Would you?"

  I didn't know. I liked the idea of complete independence, but it was a cliche, never a real option.

  "No, I don't think I would. But I'm sure
some do. There's always a black sheep in the flock. Unless you've eliminated that gene in your DNA?"

  "You're right. We have outcasts. Most of them peacefully opt for other lifestyles, and only a few get violent about it. If they commit crimes, they are sentenced severely. However, those who don't fit in the Global System usually choose to live in the Free Territories. There's a dozen of them spread across the globe. They originated in the nations that lost the Gene War and refused to sign the genetic treaty. I've never visited any of them, but I've heard hundreds of rumors and frightening stories."

  "Such as?" I asked, with the excitement of an Earth child who wants to know more about Treasure Island or other Never Never lands.

  "Such as regions where law and order don't exist, and dangerous dictators or gangs rule by terror. Or other places where technological progress is banned, where people prefer a more primitive life. I've even heard of territories where the inhabitants still worship gods."

  "Can you visit these places?"

  They were more intriguing than frightening to me, at least as far as the most peaceful regions were concerned. I think I always had a soft spot for people who didn't live by the rules, probably because of my sexual fantasies. On Earth, I felt a bit like a rebel: the one who wouldn't get a steady boyfriend; the one who needed more than a regular job and a family; the one who spent years concealing her deepest desires from society. As a result, I was attracted to those who stayed true to themselves by adopting unconventional lifestyles.

  I had no doubt that, with its sexual permissiveness and smart organization, Khyra would match my needs better than Earth ever did. Still, I was interested to see why certain people chose to confront the Global Council and live by their own standards. And what did "primitive" mean in a highly advanced civilization? Would they be living like Earthlings?

  "The most dangerous Free Territories are strictly forbidden," Vhar answered, "and kept under constant surveillance. But we've stayed in amicable contact with the other regions. We trade our manufactured goods for their natural products. Visits are allowed, but only under certain conditions, set up by the freemen. They don't want to become a tourist destination, so they limit visitors to those who have good reasons to walk across the border."

  As an alien, I probably had a good reason, I reflected, impervious to Vhar's prudent warning.

  "If access to these zones is forbidden, why are they called 'free'?"

  "Actually, they're not," Vhar laughed. "It's what their inhabitants call them, in obvious opposition to our Global System. But officially, they're called the Non-G Areas, or NGA."

  I thought of Kalhan, Khiru's ex-friend, who'd been forced into exile. Where had he found shelter? In a cave loaded with weapons? Or maybe in a simple wooden hut? My imagination knew no limits.

  From Kalhan to Khiru, further thoughts logically led me to sex.

  "Isn't that a popular theme for erotic games, too?" I had seen the name 'Free Territories' in the Twilight, and of course I knew what dressing up like a freegirl implied.

  "Absolutely. With such less-civilized habitats and customs, it's fun to imagine a sex scene in one of those regions. Especially because hardly anyone ever goes there to report the truth. It's the ultimate cradle for fantasies!"

  Vhar was right. While he was talking, I'd already summoned up an image of me tied up to a tree while strong men wearing coarse furs danced around me.

  Later that day, I logged onto the Data to retrieve more information about the Free Territories/NGAs, but was disappointed to find close to nothing. Was censorship part of Khyra's perfect system, too?

  I'd have to wait a few more months before I could see with my own eyes. We were now halfway through our long journey. While I was eager to leave the Noncha and explore a new world, I was also grateful for the delay. I felt I had much more to learn before I could confront an entire civilization whose ways of life were fascinating, but nonetheless daunting. I also needed to resolve my sexual uncertainties and fears.

  For a while, I maintained my ambiguous relationship with Naari. Despite our best intentions, we couldn't escape our sexual needs, and found solace in each other. We never mentioned Khiru again, and I pretended I was over him. Naari was no fool, but he was my friend.

  With him, Myhre, Jova, and the always good-humored Vhar, I spent very joyful months aboard the spacecraft.

  Until, like Sleeping Beauty on her way to the deadly spindle, I followed the voice of fate and visited the bridge for the first time since the day of my arrival.

  Chapter THIRTEEN

  I'd only been on the upper deck of the Noncha twice: on the first day, and during my grand tour with Myhre. I had often thought of returning on my own, but the place was too intimidating to go uninvited. While it wasn't officially a restricted area, it was surrounded by an aura of respect and admiration, a much more effective shield than a red fence. No one dared disturb the men and women who were leading us safely to Khyra.

  Another reason kept me away from the bridge: Khiru spent most of his time in the engineers' rooms. He was so rarely seen elsewhere, I even suspected him of sleeping there just to avoid me. The idea of challenging him on his own turf was scary.

  As we entered the eighth month of our cruise, I was summoned to the Infirmary for inoculations. Unlike my first visit when the linguistic barrier had kept me functionally mute, I was able to chat in Khyrian with the doctor, the same guy who'd scanned me after docking. Remembering my embarrassment at stripping, then being strapped to the chair, I joked about my progress in that field and how many other persons on board had had a chance to scan my body as meticulously as his device.

  He smiled.

  "I knew you'd enjoy it, Megan. To tell you the truth, strapping you to the chair was a little test in itself, and you passed with honors."

  My eyes made big round circles.

  "You knew I was excited?"

  "I saw it in the data collected by the scanner. Although the blush on your cheeks was very revealing, too. Just like now."

  I hid my face under my hands. It was hot.

  "I hope you're not angry," the doctor continued. "I couldn't resist the fantasy. I'd always dreamed of submitting a lovely alien to clinical tests!"

  I wasn't going to confess I'd had similar dreams. After all, my reaction to the scanning process had been explicit enough.

  "No, I'm not angry. But..."

  I watched the appearance of wrinkles on his forehead before I continued. "I wish you'd done a lot more. It could have been fun!"

  "I wish I had, too," he laughed with relief, "but I don't think Nur would have approved of me gagging you and examining you internally! Anyway, we've got serious things to do here. Will you please sit down and lay your arm here?"

  He gave me a series of painless dermal shots that would protect me against most viral diseases on Khyra. While I was fairly safe on the spacecraft thanks to the immunity shots the whole crew had received before travel and the artificial air we breathed, I would be submitted to a new range of germs as soon as I'd set foot on the planet. By that time, the vaccines would be effective, and my immune system enhanced.

  After the shots, the doctor wrapped a brain controller around my head, a thick one that looked much more sophisticated than the one Myhre used on Jova. After checking various data popping up on a mediaframe, he announced my general state was fine. I promised I would visit him again three months later, and left.

  It was still morning, too early for lunch, and I had nothing to do. Instead of walking to the elevator, I turned to the other side, toward the bridge.

  The long corridor was empty, but, since all the doors were open, snatches of conversation came from different rooms on both sides. Before I reached the first door, loud laughter burst from inside. I peeked.

  "Hey, it's our little Earthling," said a young engineer facing the door when he saw me.

  "Come in, Megan," added someone else, turning away from his 3-D computer. "Did you come to learn more about space travel?"

  Surprised by
such a nice welcome, I stepped into the room where six men and two women worked cheerfully.

  Their unit was in charge of surveillance probes. Based on the trajectory of the ship, small unmanned satellites were programmed to fly by interesting planets, stars or other space objects.

  They showed me simulators with three-dimensional drawings and spreadsheets popping out of a central conduit. The ethereal images reminded me of holograms, but also of touch-sensitive screens. With one touch of a finger, you could zoom into the picture, or move to the next graphic, or start a calculation sequence, and watch digits and lines dance in the air.

  The engineers called for more "pages" and finger-dragged pieces through the cloud of data onto the blank templates. Then they let me give it a try, and it felt like the first time I touched a computer mouse. I couldn't keep my finger on the same spot long enough to pull on the information to the other side of the cloud, or I would drop bits of the same image on three different pages. By the time I managed to transfer a whole table properly, someone decided it was time to get back to work. The trajectory team had located a planet worthy of investigation. A probe needed to be sent within the next two hours.

  I thanked the engineers for their interesting and amusing demonstrations, then decided to return to the Blue deck and go to the cafeteria.

  In the corridor, a voice caught my attention.

  Hypnotized, powerless to stop the panic in my heart, I turned around and walked to the source of my sudden distress. I stood near the door to another room where machines were buzzing happily and two persons, a man and a woman, were talking. I listened.

  "–haven't played for so long. You can't ignore Seisha Day, Khiru. Please?"

  "What exactly do you have in mind?"

  "Serious stuff ... whipping, power play, maybe some brain control. I know you're good at it."

  "No fucking."