Rand watched him try to bury the emotion that had bubbled up. "You know...for a murderous, power-hungry, psychopathic pervert, your master doesn't sound so bad."
Wallek wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I got to call him during the truce negotiations. I asked him how he was. He said, 'Come home, Wallek.' And...and I said...'Yes, Master.' I said it right in front of the General and everyone."
Rand looked back toward the window. "Well, you know what they say. If you love something, set it free. If it comes back blah blah blah."
The ship was hovering to land in a circular brick-paved clearing in front of the largest dome of the city. Several Eidolon ships were parked along the periphery. In the center of the clearing a metallic arch was set up on a shallow platform. A table covered in black velvet cloth sat beneath the arch with metal wreaths decorating its sides. On top of the table were two scrolls and large pens in upright holders.
Standing behind the table were two humanoid figures flanked by two dozen robots close to them, and at least a dozen more spread out on the brick pavers. Most robots present were soldiers who had thick panels of red or blue armor approximating pectorals, abdominals, and leg muscles. They had pointed shoulders and gargantuan biceps that stored ammunition. Their forearms were multi-barreled cannons. For heads they had faceless bisected oval spheres made of metal so shiny it could serve as a mirror. More streamlined robots, with their black joints and pistons visible, were also present, along with a few bulky domestic units who had bean-shaped fiberglass bodies merging into skirting on the bottom. Ten silver orbs floated in the air around them, here and there, with camera lenses pointed at their hover jet.
Rand focused on the humanoids. They were still far off, but Rand could gauge their size by how they stood a full head taller than the six-foot-tall soldier bots. The two men had the exact same builds: tall and sturdily muscled, without being hulking. They had snobby aristocratic faces, not unhandsome, but made fearsome due to the whites of their eyes being black. Both had cloaks with exaggerated shoulders. The more regal-looking of the two had a glittery fringe to his cloak. Since he stood directly behind the table, while the other one stood back and to the side, Rand figured he had to be the High Lord.
Deandred's clothes were black, but the silver underside of his cloak let Rand make out his formidable silhouette. He had long dark hair, black with highlights of auburn, and unruly bangs fluttering over his forehead with the light wind.
He had a sexy vibe going—Rand had to admit it. At least fucking him wouldn't be disgusting.
But what about the rest? Rand's stomach tied itself into a knot.
"Colrick's here," Wallek said with more than a touch of excitement.
Rand looked at the other one. This one had long white hair, neatly combed off his forehead and bound in a loose ponytail at the bottom of his scalp. His face looked more peaceful than the other's, his disposition less dark.
"Oh, man, I didn't know he was going to come out." Wallek was grinning wide.
Rand eyed him. Would he get like that? That would be a good thing, right—if he was treated nice enough to actually like the freak.
He let out yet another tortured sigh.
* ** *** * *** ** * * ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** *
Rand heard excited voices from the back of the jet as they got ready to disembark. Wallek was gone from his side to join in the chaos. Sidmory eventually came to him with his yeoman Pasquale. Pasquale was holding handcuffs and leg chains. Sidmory looked him over a moment. Then he let out a deep breath.
"Where are we at with you, Rand? Are you resigned to things yet?"
Rand affixed his disgusted expression to one side. "Uh huh."
Sidmory unstrapped one of his wrists and immediately locked it in a cuff.
"Nice to see you trust me," Rand said.
"I don't think you can trust yourself," Sidmory said, while freeing and then cuffing his other wrist. "If I let you walk out there with out any chains you might not be able to stop yourself from running. If you panic you'll bolt—then everything will be ruined. I'm putting these on you for your sake just as much as ours."
Rand remained disgusted, but he knew Sidmory was right. He might want to do the right thing, but his body could revolt whether he willed it to or not. He had too much training to surrender without a fight.
Pasquale bent down to affix manacles to his ankles. The chain that connected them would hobble him to baby steps. Sidmory helped him stand.
"I'm going to have two armed guards on you. Don't make them stun you. You might think it's easier to just get knocked out again. Use your head and think about it. Your life with Deandred is going to be a Hell of a lot more miserable if he thinks you're trying to escape."
Rand followed him to the exit. The two guards lined up behind him.
"He's already going to think I'm going to try to escape. You're handing me to him in chains."
"What I want him to see from the chains..." He stepped out onto the ramp leading downwards. The air stank of ozone. "...is that we're willing to betray one of our own to make this truce happen."
"Twat."
Their group was composed of Sidmory, his yeoman, a few Sergeant Generals, Rand, his guards, and Wallek. Sidmory and the other officers moved to the head to lead them towards the table. Rand saw Wallek move ahead to the side of them. He met the eyes of the blond Eidolon.
"Master!"
Colrick's face lit up with a smile. He moved forward to bridge some of the space between them, then halted and opened his arms. Wallek ran into his embrace.
The rest of the group's stride faltered.
"Give them their moment," Sidmory said. "This is a good thing. Let it happen."
After a long heart-tugging squeeze Wallek pulled back and looked into his master's eyes. Colrick swept a hand over his hair, then leaned down and kissed him. The two locked their mouths together for an intensely passionate kiss while everyone watched.
Rand stared while wondering if Wallek had really been straight before. He was really enjoying the kiss. If an Eidolon could make a straight guy melt like that wasn't he already ahead of the game?
"See that," Sidmory said. "They're just sweethearts. You can handle being someone's sweetheart."
"The lovey-dovey shit ain't what I'm worried about, asshole."
Sidmory's brow rose. Rand could care less if he'd just outed himself.
He looked at Deandred and then wished he hadn't. The Eidolon's dark eyes were fixed on him. It made his stomach feel like it dropped. He had to lower his head toward his feet to break the hold of his gaze.
Colrick and Wallek were walking off to a small cruiser parked away from the ceremonial display with two of the floating orbs following them. The hatch door of the cruiser opened as they drew near.
"Are we just going to let him take him right now?" a Sergeant General said. "The truce isn't signed yet."
"They're calling the shots, boys," Sidmory said. "If they're happy, we're happy."
They continued the rest of the way to the table set up. Sidmory stood across from Deandred. The rest of the group spread out behind him.
"Master General," Deandred said.
Sidmory gave a shallow bow. "High Lord."
Deandred looked at Rand. One side of his mouth curled up. "Rand."
Rand moved his eyeballs to the side. "Hey, what's up?"
Deandred gave a monosyllabic laugh.
"It's my honor and privilege to stand here before you on this historic day."
"Master General," Deandred blinked as he spoke. Rand thought he looked aloof. "This is a temporary truce."
"But truces can be renewed...extended."
Deandred turned his head away. "Anything is possible."
Sidmory placed both his palms on the table and hung his head. "When are we going to get your terms for our surrender, High Lord? We could get that sorted out before this expires—couldn't we?"
"This is not the forum for that discussion." Deandred took one of the pen
s from its holder and signed his name on the bottom of the truce scroll. He turned it around so Sidmory could sign.
Sidmory didn't pick up a pen. "Don't you want the war to end, High Lord?"
"Conquering you is my sole desire."
"We're ready to be conquered. You just tell us the how and the when."
Deandred's dark eyes fixed on him. "Master General, Gizmoidon has no desire to govern humans. He considers you a waste of resources." He handed him a pen.
Sidmory took the pen, but didn't sign. "That's Gizmoidon. What about you? What do you consider us?"
Deandred eyed him a moment, then looked at Rand. "Some of you I regard as...lovely pets."
Rand didn't meet his eyes.
"We're people, High Lord," Sidmory said, with emotion weighing on his voice. "We have families, homes, lives. We want to be able to live those lives without this pointless war sucking the blood out of us—without worrying about bombs getting dropped on our heads every day."
Deandred looked back toward him. "Most Eidolons consider an extended truce beneficial, particularly since you're granting us the comfort slaves. Unfortunately, lasting peace does not align with Gizmoidon's goals." He tipped his head back toward the scroll. "Let's simply enjoy this reprieve, Master General."
Sidmory signed beneath Deandred's name with a fast scrawl. "Those soldiers we're sacrificing as your slaves—they've been ordered not to fight or try to escape. If war restarts that order becomes moot. Their priority becomes killing you and/or getting away. If the truce is temporary, then so are the slaves."
Deandred tipped his nose toward Rand. "Are you saying that one in chains there isn't intent on escaping me right now?"
"No," Sidmory said. "He's not."
"Then give him to me." Deandred rolled up the scroll and handed it to Sidmory. "We're done with our business for today."
Sidmory held the scroll against his chest for a few moments, as though trying to think of something more to say. Then he looked back at Rand's guards. They nudged him forward. Two robots who appeared to be soldiers, but who lacked the arm cannons, took Rand from them. He was brought mere steps from the towering High Lord, so that terror could wind up his stomach even tighter. Then Deandred turned around and headed for a large cruiser parked a short distance away. The remaining flying orbs followed them.
Rand looked over his shoulder. The men were heading back to the jet.
"Why are you walking so slowly?"
Rand darted his head forward again. Deandred had spoken with his back to him.
"Leg chains."
The Eidolon halted. He turned to look down at Rand's feet.
"I see."
Deandred lowered, took the chain in both hands, and broke it apart. Rand's jaw fell open. It had been thick gauge steel weighing heavily on Rand's ankles and Deandred had snapped it like a rope of licorice.
"There." He turned back toward the cruiser.
Rand kept up, despite his middle quaking beneath his cuffed hands.
Help.
* ** *** * *** ** * * ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** *
The cruiser brought them to a mansion shaped like a hill. The gentle slope of the highest portion downplayed the actual height of the three-story structure. Most of the walls appeared to be made out of chiseled crystal windows. Glittery silver fiberglass panels filled in the rest of the spaces, and then there were two balconies and what looked like a fenced rooftop patio. Rand now understood what Wallek meant when he said he'd been living in the lap of luxury.
Deandred exited the pilot area of the cruiser with two floating orbs following him. Rand was nudged by the robot guards to stand and exit from the back (where the rest of the orbs had been bouncing around during their flight). He came out with the group of robots and caught up to Deandred.
Rand finally noticed the omnipresent orbs when they were climbing the steps to Deandred's front door. They had camera eyes, so someone was watching them. Must be Gizmoidon.
Deadred led him into a bright foyer, then through a great room with stylish furniture arranged in snake-like shapes, and finally up the stairs and to a vast open seating area walled on one side by the gigantic crystal windows. As they walked, robots and orbs veered away from Rand until just his two guards and two orbs were left. Deandred dropped into a large tall armchair clustered in an area of plants, coffee tables, and couches. He gestured with his chin for the robots to bring Rand near. Then he stared at him.
"Why are you chained?" he said, stressing the word are. "Did they kidnap you?"
"Sort of." Rand looked away.
"I don't like the idea of a defiant slave."
Rand swallowed. "No, don't—don't worry. I'll be a...um good little slave."
Deandred smiled. "Excellent."
He gestured with a hand to his robot guards. One disengaged the controls on his handcuffs and removed them. The other bent down to remove the shackles around his ankles. As they did this, a small robot on casters holding a tray rolled up. A bulky black collar rested on it.
Deandred stood and opened the collar. He moved in front of Rand, who was at least eight inches shorter than him. His cool fingers brushed against his throat as he affixed the collar around his neck.
"This has a tracer in it, and a neurotoxin. If you try to tamper with it you'll be paralyzed long enough for me to come and find you."
"Huh." He bit his bottom lip a moment as the evil super-humanoid adjusted the collar. "You weren't kidding about the pet thing, huh?"
"Would you like a little bell?"
Rand peeked up. Deandred was smiling coolly once again. He swallowed against his collar-fastening fingers.
"You're terrified of me—aren't you?"
"Yeah."
Deandred grabbed his chin with enough speed and strength to make Rand flinch. His heart began a furious drum solo in his chest. Deandred forced Rand to look up at him. He still had traces of the cold smile.
"No 'yeahs', my pet. From here on I need you to call me Master. When I ask you a question like that you're to say, 'Yes, Master,' or 'No, Master,' and when I give you pleasure you're to say, 'Thank you, Master.'"
Rand squeezed his eyes closed. He couldn't handle looking into the creep's face close up another second.
"Don't be proud, Rand. Pride is poison to you now. Get rid of it, right here from the start, and life will be so much easier for you."
"Yes...Master."
Deandred released his chin while making a pleased sound. Rand looked. His master's smile was strong now and his eyes glistened.
"You said it with only a slight pause." Deandred reached up with both hands, found the shape of his nipples through his shirts, and started pinching them. "Good, pet, good."
What the fuck! Extremely intimate shocks of sensation were barraging his chest. Not my nipples—how did he even know? Rand winced. He felt one of his secrets—having incredibly sensitive nipples—had just been exposed.
Deandred released his nipples and dropped back into the chair. He picked up a tablet that had been resting on a stand beside him and crossed his long legs. A bean-shaped domestic robot rolled out on casters from a side corridor.
"I'm granting you time now to see to your needs. Eat, shower, relieve yourself if necessary—you've a couple of hours to yourself."
The domestic robot rolled near, expectantly. Rand cleared his throat.
"Oh, um, thank you, uh...Master."
Deandred was engrossed by the tablet. "After that I'm going to discipline you for the incident at the mine."
Rand's heart turned into a booming barrel drum once again. Visions of thick, long earthy radishes flashed through his mind. "Um...could you, not? Master?"
"We have to get it out of the way. It's a burden on us right now. I'd like to proceed with you unimpeded." He eyed him. "To start fresh."
The domestic bot nudged him, but he stayed planted.
"Um...Master...what if I, uh, kissed your feet and let you play with my nipples some more?" He felt it was a major
offer. His nipples still twinged from the brief attention.
Deandred burst with sudden laughter. Rand jolted.
He lowered his tablet to grin at him. "I'm already starting to like you, Rand." He lifted the tablet again. "When I pinch your nipples it's to indicate that you've pleased me."
"Hey, um—I'm starting to like you, too, Master. So maybe we could skip the—"
Deandred tapped at his screen. "It won't be so bad. Don't be a baby."
Rand sighed with a drooping of his shoulders and went off with the robot. (One of the orbs followed him; the other stayed with Deandred.)
* ** *** * *** ** * * ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** *
He was brought to a room that had a table, couch, and bathroom—no windows. He'd had to pee for a while, something Delphi wasn't considerate enough to look after, unlike his new evil master. After that he showered. While scrubbing himself in the clear tube, the domestic robot collected his clothes and deposited them in the same chute he'd thrown away a paper towel in.
Um...hey...you bitch.
It placed a new set of clothes for him on the closed toilet seat.
When he emerged he found that all he'd been given was a white silk-ish shirt, open in the front and without any buttons, black silk-ish pants (it was stretchier than regular silk) and leather sandals. No underwear. When he put on the pants he found out why. The fabric was meant to ride up his ass and hug tight around his package. It would have made him extremely popular at the leather bar he frequented. The shirt covered his back, with bunched short sleeves covering his arms and shoulders, but he could only pull it closed enough in front to barely cover his nipples. His chest and torso were exposed, and the pants rode low on him, letting the top of his pubic area peek out.
The Eidolon's Conquest Page 3
