Rand snooped over his shoulder once or twice while the constructor bot was etching. He figured out that Deandred was having a text conversation with someone who used all caps. He caught one full snippet towards the end of the day.
THEIR BATHROOMS WILL STRESS THE WATER SUPPLY.
The humans will need to provide the water for our prisoners.
SEE THAT THEY DO.
Of course, Master.
He toggled to a different screen to make a note about the water.
Rand glanced at the floating orbs. Oh.
Near dusk Deandred put his tablet into a pocket of his cloak. "It's late and I'm bored."
"We got it half-way done, Master."
Deandred pinched both his nipples while meeting his eyes. "Yes. That's good enough for today. Fly me home, my pet."
"Yes, Master." He was aware of the upbeat tenor of his voice. His step was light as he crossed to the door, also.
Maybe he shouldn't have felt so positive this soon in. Still...this had been a pretty good day.
* ** *** * *** ** * * ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** *
Deandred brought him to a dining room on the first floor of the mansion. He indicated for Rand to sit in the chair nearest him. In moments a domestic robot was presenting two cloche covered plates and the usual water. Rand was hit with the smell of fried deliciousness when the cloches were lifted. The shredded meat on flower greens actually looked appealing.
Deandred looked at him.
"May I...eat...Master?"
He smiled. "How good of you to ask. I thought you were wondering what it was."
"What is it?"
Deandred picked up his fork. "Some kind of rodent. Are you particular?"
"Nope. I mean—no, Master."
Deandred was still smiling. "You may eat."
Rand dug in. The only seasoning was salt, once again, but the meat was greasy and delicious. He ate with gusto.
"Tell me about Rand Kalyx. The true history. No subterfuge."
Rand thought a moment. "Alright. So...uh...my mom had palsy from the guy she was married to before my dad because he beat her so much. She ended up giving me to the state when I was nine."
"What did your father think?"
"He was out of the picture. Never even met him. Anyway, I ran away from the foster home three or four times and would break into places to crash. They ended up sticking me in a complex for troubled youths, which was supposed to be impossible to run away from. I escaped from there after a year or so, but got caught after I broke into a guy's vacation house. People from the government came and said I wouldn't have to go back to juvie if I signed up for the pre-military. So they shipped me to this boot camp that was even worse than juvie. They had it locked down tight, but I learned the rounds and the layout and I managed to get away after a couple of years. They caught me months later when I got arrested after breaking into a casino vault—I was throwing the money I stole all over the place, living like a king. So I stayed another couple of months in some shithole juvie and the night before I'd planned to run away from there these government guys showed up and told me I had to go back to pre-military. This time they put me in this stealth fighter training. The next youngest guy there was nineteen, but they said I was good enough for the program. So for the next four fucking years I was getting this brutal training—like 16 hours a day, with the most fucked up regimen. I was the best in my troop, and it pissed off all the other guys who were struggling, guys who'd actually signed up willingly, since I was so much younger. I was sick of getting spit on so I stole my bunkie's credentials and conned my way into the flight school. That was a cakewalk and I loved it. I was so good they let me stay even after they figured out I'd lied. Now I was seventeen and one year shy of getting drafted into the real military. Some big-wigs reclaimed me from the flight-school and threw me back into stealth fighter training. They put me right into a survival training mission—out on some snowy cliff that we were supposed to make it back to base from with just a knife and some twine. I was like, great, and I knifed and twined my way right the fuck out of there. This time I finagled myself a private pilot job, and due to a hijacker I killed I eventually became the bodyguard of my boss. It was a nice gig for a while. My boss was..." He drifted a moment while recalling their love affair. "He was cool. But he was a military contractor, and I was 20 and not drafted like every other guy my age. One day I'm dropping a hover jet off at a base in South Brono and all these MPs surround me. That's it. I'm drafted. They tell me that if I run away this time I'm going to get 20 years hard labor for desertion. So I was stuck. I tried to be a fighter pilot, but I was too fucking good. I ended up in special ops for the last two and half years." He paused to take a drink of water. "That's it. The story of Rand Kalyx."
A large grin formed on Deandred's face. Rand got a thud in his stomach from it.
"Your whole life is predicated on running away from bad situations."
Rand concentrated.
"And yet—here you are. In the worst possible situation you can imagine." He laughed softly. "And you can't run away."
He scratched under his collar while considering. "Yeah. I mean...yes, Master."
"Now you have to face everything. Even the most distasteful and terrifying things. There's no more running for you."
He nodded slowly.
"This is a good thing, Rand."
He met his eyes.
"It doesn't matter how skilled an operative you were. If you were always running then you were no better than a coward. You were ruled by your fears. You never learned how to cope with prolonged adversity." His light smile returned. "You could grow here. You could find the inner strength required for you to endure—find your anchor. Then you'd no longer have a reason to run from strife. If you can manage surrender then you can manage anything."
Rand stirred the last of his food. "Surrender is a tough one for me."
Deandred reached over and caressed his cheek. Rand got a shiver and balked at the manipulation. Damn, this guy is good.
"But you're doing magnificently so far. Don't underestimate yourself."
"Thank you." He avoided his eyes. "It'd be nice if this surrender ended up meaning something...Master."
Deandred watched him a moment more, then continued eating.
Rand dutifully stripped once upstairs. Deandred changed into a long silk sleeping shirt in front of him. Rand caught a glimpse of his muscular bare ass. He headed for his bed, but Deandred touched his arm to stop him. He stood in front of Rand and soothed both hands over his bare shoulders. His eyes gleamed as he looked over his body.
"You are such an enticing specimen of man," Deandred said.
Rand met his gaze.
"I could make love to you so gently you wouldn't even wince. Then we could spend the nights after that exploring further delights. Discovering your limits, and then exceeding them."
Rand had an impulse to postpone things. He wasn't sure if there was still some fear in him. "Aren't you tired, Master?"
Deandred ran his fingers through Rand's blond locks. "Tired. But also horny."
"I'm just tired," Rand said, while keeping his tone even. "And we have a long day tomorrow."
"You already know I'm not going to press it. You're not even apprehensive anymore."
Rand lowered his eyes. "You've been showing me I don't have to be scared of you. You're not going to change that now—are you Master?"
Deandred laughed softly. He tweaked both his nipples for several moments. Then he nudged his shoulder.
"Let me see your backside."
Rand turned around. Deandred's palm coursed over the rounds of his buttocks. He winced from the sensitive touch, and was glad his master couldn't see it.
"I hate to see such miserable bruises on you. Your flesh is so lovely otherwise."
You're the one who bruised me, you dip. "Maybe you should leave it alone until I get better?"
Deandred wrapped an arm around him from behind. Rand's body was bro
ught back against his. He leaned down and gave a moist kiss to his neck. Rand got another shiver and this time allowed himself to enjoy it.
"As you wish."
The sultry whisper beside his ear gave him another pang. Then Deandred removed his arm from him and climbed onto his bed. Rand let out a long breath and climbed down onto his own.
* ** *** * *** ** * * ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** *
Rand found several dozen robots building inside the internment camp when they returned the next day. Concrete blocks that were obviously reclaimed were being cemented together to make the cubicle walls. The wall for the bathroom was already complete.
"Woah—they work fast."
"What you plotted yesterday will be completed today," Deandred said while focused on his tablet. "You must finish the remainder of your plans today so it can be built tomorrow."
"Damned efficient. I'm impressed."
"We're eager to start trading."
"Yeah—that makes sense." He cracked his knuckles and went to the side of the building that was still empty. "This half will be for entertainment, fitness, food, laundry, storage, medical, and offices or terminals or whatever for the robot guards."
"Very thorough." Deandred pinched his nipples.
"Can the prisoners have computers to call home?"
Deandred tapped his tablet in silence a few minutes. Then his eyelashes rose as he looked at him.
"No. They may not."
"What about letters? Old fashioned mail. Robots could read everything first before it goes in or out."
This time Deandred didn't refer to his tablet. "No, Rand. There is to be no communication with your territory whatsoever."
Rand chewed his bottom lip. "It's your call, Master—but what's the harm? They're volunteer prisoners. They can't do any spying on you guys from inside here. It's not like our side is going to send them sensitive information when they know you'll get to read it all first. There's a truce going on. Everyone's promising to play nice."
"Messages can be sent in code," Deandred said. "What if your former army decides to violate the terms of the truce? The lives of these men will be forfeited. That's the reason they're here."
Rand focused on the floor with his shoulders growing tense. "Yeah—that's true. It's best they don't know it's coming if the shit hits the fan."
Deandred gave his nipple a lengthy pinch.
Rand fought past the effervescent twinging. "What happens to these guys when the truce ends?"
"There's a termination clause that states we will return all the volunteer prisoners prior to ending the truce."
"You'll honor that, right?"
Deandred was focused on his tablet. "We usually honor our promises." Now he looked at him. "Not always—but usually."
"So...I'll be going home if...if this thing falls apart?"
His master gave an incredulous laugh. "They've told you absolutely nothing."
Rand swallowed. "What do you mean?"
"The only reason we finally agreed to the truce was because your Master General gave us complimentary gifts for signing. All comfort slaves will remain our permanent property. I'm never obliged to release you, Rand."
Rand stood blinking at him. The shock of the revelation had frost swirling inside his tightening stomach.
Deandred put away his tablet. He placed a hand on the side of Rand's face, and then caressed gently down his nape.
"You've grown pale. Are you devastated, my pet?"
Rand shook his head with his eyes lowered.
Deandred brought both arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace. Rand's body pressed against the hard muscles of his master.
"Hold me in return."
Rand brought his arms around him.
"Hold me tightly."
He squeezed. Deandred squeezed him also. He became captured in warmth and the strength of his arms. For some reason it made him tearful. He tried to hold back his sobs.
"Now say, 'I am yours forever, Master.'"
Rand swallowed. "I'm yours forever, Master."
"And that's okay."
His voice grew choked. "And that's okay."
"All at once now." Deandred stroked his hair.
"I'm yours forever, Master, and that's okay."
"Do you believe it, Rand?"
He swallowed down a thick lump. His cheek was nestled in the crook of Deandred's shoulder.
"Starting to."
Deandred broke from him while still gliding his fingers through his hair. He lowered down and gave a soft kiss to Rand's lips. Then he glided his hands down over his shoulders. His fingers curled around the sides of his pectorals and his thumbs firmly rubbed against his nipples. Rand closed his eyes after a moment. The positive nipple reinforcement was drawing out far longer than usual, sending tingly pleasure shocks all through his chest.
Deandred removed his hands. "Get back to work."
Rand tucked his shirt into the front of his pants. "Yes Master."
* ** *** * *** ** * * ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** *
Deadred sat against the newly erected bathroom wall to type on his tablet while Rand finished the rest of the building. In the afternoon he walked to his master while the constructor bot was etching loudly behind him.
"I'm finished, Master."
Deandred's brow rose. "Already?"
"I mean, yeah. It's pretty much just setting up where all the walls will be, the electrical, vents, and the water mains. I think it's a solid layout."
He braced himself against the wall to rise. "Excellent." His tablet was placed in his cloak pocket. He took Rand by the shoulders and set him against a pillar. Then he rolled his nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. "I'm very, very pleased."
The pinpointed stimulation continued at length. Rand's boner had now grown to tent his tucked shirt. He winced through his nostrils.
His master gave him a sly smile. "This troubles you?"
Rand bit his bottom lip. "You...you're giving me wood."
Deandred palmed his crotch.
Rand's eyes bulged.
"Here we are. You're not going to object, are you?"
Rand pursed his lips and shook his head. After getting his nipples played with so much the groping didn't seem so inappropriate. He'd been pent up for days, both before the damning meeting at his old base and after. His cock felt full of prickly warmth. The built up reservoir of heat responded too eagerly to attention.
"You don’t...urgh...that's not..."
"Shh."
Deandred's hand deftly worked him—slowly drawing out sublime sensations. Rand's face tensed. It was impropriety—but he had to just deal with it, right? That was the arrangement. As the rubbing continued he was able to relax slightly and just concentrate on the sensations.
Deandred kneaded his balls through the fabric of his pants. The more intense pleasure made him arch up onto his tiptoes, dislodging his shirt from his pants, and allowing the red cap of his cock grow to peek out of his waistline. Deandred's dark eyes glistened to see it.
"You're handling this superbly, Rand." He leaned down and gave each of his nipples a moist kiss. Rand got a potent shiver.
Ungh.
It was more than just tolerance. Rand already sensed a visceral connection...one that he would have pursued if the circumstances were different. In the here and now all he knew was that getting fondled by the large dark-eyed Eidolon was incredibly erotic to him. But then—he had to give in anyway, right? Why should he feel guilty if he got off on it?
He let his body droop back against the post. He focused all his thoughts on submitting—something his body was already obliged to do.
Deandred's skilled hand was making passes between his legs, then over his testicles and up to the root of his rigid shaft. Orgasmic warmth started spreading through his whole pelvis. More than two inches of cock now stood out of his pants. Deandred stared as though mesmerized, and continued massaging him.
After two minut
es he'd grown hard enough for his pulse to make his cock lurch. He closed his eyes.
"Urg."
Deandred glanced at his wincing face, then back at his cock. He reached into his pants and pulled it out.
Rand got shocked out of his daze. He darted his head around. His instinct told him he shouldn't be exposed in the middle of a building. But then, no—it was fine. There were only robots and Gizmoidon to see them.
Deandred dropped to his knees with a flourish of his cloak.
Holy shit!
He took the entire seven inches of Rand's cock in his mouth, making him gasp. His cheeks hollowed, and he tipped up his chin. Then he pulled back hard, smashing the head of Rand's cock against the back of his throat and palate while also forcing his hard as stone cock to arch downward. One pass like this had Rand reeling. He clutched at the post behind him with both hands. Deandred let his cockhead pop free with a loud smacking noise. The entire organ now throbbed.
His master clutched his shaft with his fist. "Come in my mouth."
Rand stared at him with his mouth hanging open. "Seriously?"
Deandred winked at him. He got an ecstatic shudder. Fuck. Deandred was more than sexy. The High Lord was walking talking eroticism. Most men, not just a gay man, would have had trouble resisting the insane pull of his sexual inertia—especially if they found themselves under his control.
He licked Rand's slit with a powerful tongue. Rand lifted on his tiptoes again. He could feel every taste bud mashing against the sensitive flesh.
"Be vocal with your gratitude."
He took Rand back into his mouth and performed the same devastating move.
"Umph!"
Deandred started thrusting his head back and forth to repeat the move at a rapid clip. Rand's face contorted. His master was servicing him furiously enough for his strands of his dark hair to rise and drop. Rand clung to the post behind him to try to keep his legs from giving. Deandred's mouth squeezed tight enough to crush against the fibrous tissue beneath the skin of his shaft. It was an onslaught of heated pleasure—catapulting him towards an orgasmic edge faster than he thought possible. Deandred's mouth was so skilled he could have exploded after a single pass. After half a minute of exquisite ravaging he grunted out a loud moan. He wanted to hold on, but each powerful suck made him lose concentration. His cock started to feel a prickly hot tickle inside. Two more devastating passes and he felt himself convulse.
The Eidolon's Conquest Page 5
