by Jaye Peaches
“Sir,” she said, still facing the wall. “Please, may I assist you?”
“In what?”
Jade jumped slightly. He was closer than she thought—she could almost feel his breath on her bare back.
“I can fix the security system, then you can lock me up again.” She turned to look over her shoulder. Mason’s lips were pursed together. “And anything else that’s broke, or near broke,” she added.
“Be my mechanic?” He ran his forefinger along his lips, thinking on her suggestion. “Why? Why would you help me?”
She felt the familiar fluttering in her stomach. It shouldn’t be there, because her backside was blazing, her bottom hole stretched by an inflated butt plug and her nipples stiffened with embarrassment and yet, through all this, she was somewhat taken by Mason. He’d not tricked her, lied to her, or done anything mean. His punishments weren’t exactly unfair, and he carried them out judiciously.
“I just do,” she said lamely, the heat rushing to her face.
“I’ll take that plug out now. Lean forward, hands on the wall. I’ll deflate it real slow and it should pop out.” He stroked her back, letting his fingertips drift down her spine. She waited, feeling the fullness dissipate and the plug ease away. It hadn’t been a horrendous punishment, but she wouldn’t want it repeated like that, though the plug itself intrigued her. What would it feel like in tandem to a good fucking? Her cheeks were heating up again and she dismissed the thought.
“Thank you, sir,” she said graciously.
“I’m going to take up your offer, Jade,” Mason finally said after he’d cleaned up the room. Jade stood hovering, still naked and a little confused by her emotions.
“I’ll do whatever you ask—”
“I need to be sure you’ll not get up to mischief—”
“I won’t, not any more. I’m going to be good.”
“You’re still my prisoner.” He opened a cupboard and removed something metallic—four shiny bands.
“What are they?” she asked nervously.
“You can get dressed and I’ll explain.”
Easing into her pants, she listened. “These are restraints. They’re magnetic and programmed to attract to each other. Two bracelets, two anklets. When I hit a button on this remote,” he held up a tiny device, “the bracelets snap together. Another click and the anklets do the same. You won’t be able to walk or separate your wrists. An instant confinement. They’re only attracted to each other, so don’t worry, you’ll not stick to anything else magnetic.”
“Oh, good, I suppose,” she said, rather impressed by the design. She finished dressing.
“Tamperproof, too,” he added quickly. “They can’t be removed without the pattern lock and that’s up here.” He tapped his forehead. “Put them on.” He held the thin bands out to her.
Jade looped them around her wrists and ankles and they instantly locked snugly and with reasonable comfort.
“Let me demonstrate.” He pressed the remote and her wrists flew together, palms clapping. She tried to force them apart, but it was impossible. When he hit the button again, her feet slid together, binding her ankles tight. She was hobbled, unable to walk and barely able to stand. She swayed and he released the magnetic forces, freeing her to move.
“Wow, that’s powerful.” A question entered her mind and she furrowed her eyebrows.
“What?” he asked.
“If you have these available, why did you lock me in a cell?”
“Protocol dictates that when the stasis system fails, fugitives are to be held in cells. When the cells are full, the least violent prisoners can be shackled with those bands.”
“But you locked me in a cell and I’m not violent,” Jade said indignantly.
“The cells weren’t full,” he stated simply.
“You like rules, don’t you, Marshal.”
“I sure do, Jade. So there will be rules for you to follow if you’re going to be my mechanic and if you break any one of them—”
“I get my ass spanked?” she completed. “I guess I best pay attention to your rules then.”
There was one other question floating in the back of her head and she daren’t ask it. Why did Mason have an inflatable butt plug so readily available?
* * *
Rules brought order to chaos, which in outer space was essential. How else could any one power govern this part of the galaxy if there was no control over billions of people? There weren’t just planets, there were numerous space stations dotted about linking communications and supplies across the four sectors that made up the Novador Federation.
Mason believed in rules. They served a purpose at any level. However, in order for rules to work, they needed the right people in the right roles, hence the plethora of Stratums that both Novador and his home planet, Ixzar, enforced.
He wasn’t convinced that Jade could follow rules. She had it in her to be submissive—the manner in which she acquiesced for her punishment impressed him and it was obvious it elicited an arousal in her. It was her behavior the rest of the time that bothered him. It wasn’t exactly obstructive or subversive, more tactless and irresponsible.
After he’d let her dress, he escorted her back to the cell. He couldn’t lock her in, since the system was still down. She looked exhausted. Sexy, too, with her hair hanging around her pretty face. She kept trying to straighten her shoulders, showing him her resilience, but given the hiding, her ass must hurt. She lay face down on the cot.
“I’ll check in on you later and we’ll discuss how to proceed.” He hovered by the door, resisting the temptation to kneel next to the bed and stroke or pet her in some way, reassure her that things would be all right, now that they’d come to an understanding about her imprisonment.
She muttered something. He didn’t push to find out what it was. Distance was required, not physical contact. She’d probably tell him to leave her alone anyway. He wouldn’t blame her if she did.
Returning a few hours later, he saw she’d showered and changed into different clothes. The color had returned to her previously ashen cheeks and she rose to her feet when he entered the small room.
Mason cleared his throat. “Right. This is how it will go from now on. You sleep here, but we’ll eat together. There’s a small mess hall at the end of the corridor. Three meals a day, no skimping. You look like you skimp.” She wasn’t skinny, but she couldn’t afford to lose weight. “You work on the systems—we’ll prioritize the ones needing the most attention.”
She went to fold her arms across her chest, then she appeared to change her mind, and tucked them behind her back instead. “I’d prefer my own tools, the ones on Stealth.”
“Stealth?”
“My ship. That’s what I called it.”
“Sure. We’ll fetch them. However, before that, I want to make this clear—you’ll obey me and if I tell you to go to this room, you’ll do so immediately. I have fugitives to catch and I don’t want you to encounter them. You’re a liability if they take you hostage.”
“A liability?” She raised her eyebrow.
A poor choice of word, perhaps. “You’re not my guest, but they’ll see you as a means to barter or worse.”
“I see. So I’ll hang out here when things get tough. Don’t you want an extra pair of hands to help you?”
Damn, she was a feisty creature and nothing he’d done had changed that about her. “Trained in unarmed combat, are you?”
“No, but I can man the control center for you, make sure things don’t break down at a critical moment.” There was almost a hint of sarcasm in her tone.
“They won’t, because you’re going to keep them well maintained.”
She appeared to mulling something; her lower jaw rocked from side to side.
“What?” he asked. “Is there a problem with any of this?”
“I’m a fugitive, on my way to be tried, and probably sentenced, and it’s not easy for me to just accept that I’m helping you deliver me to the authorit
ies.”
“I’m giving you an alternative to stasis, being locked in this cell and treated like a prisoner. For the duration, you’re part of my crew—the engineer. However, technically you’re still a fugitive in transit.” He’d not given much thought up to now about how to explain his actions toward Jade. What would his superiors say when they found out he’d let a fugitive work alongside him, free to move about the ship and given access to the systems? It was a problem he would address later, once he seen her in action. “Be good, and I’ll put in a good word for you.” It was a lame response to her concerns.
She nodded, seemingly happy with his comment. “I’d rather be useful than stuck in here.”
He smiled, a genuine display of pleasure. “I’ll enjoy the company.” Did she feel the same way about him?
“Your next prey, where is he?” she asked as he led her out of the cell.
“Nyle Curtis—big-time criminal, into anything bad, especially narcotics. He’s holed up on a space station on the edge of the sector. According to my sources, he’s likely to be partying following his latest successful trade. It’s a good time to get him as his guard is down. He’s paid his men, they don’t need him until the next deal comes up and they’ve frittered away their earnings.” Curtis was a monster of a man and would be tough to catch.
“How long will it take to get us there?” They’d arrived at the engineering control center.
“Fifty days.”
Jade halted suddenly and he almost collided with her. “Fifty days!” Her eyes had widened in disbelief.
Her reactions surprised him—the more time it took to capture his two remaining fugitives, the longer it would be to her trial and sentence. “You don’t want to enjoy this freedom while it lasts?”
She pressed her hand around her narrow throat, as if to stem a wave of nausea. He took her arm and steadied her. “I… I… hadn’t imagined being out here for so long.”
“This is space, sweetheart. Everything takes longer. Did you think you could just dash out, hand out a few supplies, and dash back home again? If you want to be out here, it’s dedication that brings its rewards.” He wondered if she regretted her decision to help her compatriots out with their illicit mission. Perhaps she wished she’d gone into hibernation for the duration of the flight. He dismissed the latter thought: stasis scared her for some reason. Would working alongside him scare her, too? He didn’t like that, not when he’d grown to like the idea of having her company every day.
“I’m here,” he said softly, squeezing her arm gently. “You’re with me. I’m going to keep you safe. That’s my job as your marshal. I’m not the bad guy here, Jade. I’m the good one.”
She stared right into his eyes, searching for something. He held her gaze, unblinking and with as much reserve as he could muster. For a few seconds, all he could think of doing was kissing her sweet lips and holding her in his arms.
He released her and stepped back, shaking off the ludicrous need to touch her. She wasn’t his type. Everyone back at home would tell him only a woman whose submission was complete to the point of unquestioning devotion could match his dominance or satisfy his urges.
“I’ll let you fix the security controls. The console is over there. Probably another dodgy set of circuits. Make a list of other faults or issues; the computer will obey your inquiries, then a list of supplies needed. I expect everything to be done by eight. That’s when we will eat.” He rattled off his commands and she finally blinked, as if waking from a dream.
She offered him a half-baked salute and a smirk. “Sure thing, Marshal. Eight, not a minute before, or after.”
It was unexpected—the relief at hearing her cocksure response; he actually wanted her to resist a little, because then he might have some excuse to tame her. Perhaps, there was something more to do in the coming days than chase across the galaxy—teaching her obedience.
* * *
“Idiot,” Jade muttered to herself. She was in the middle of doing an audit of the life support functions when she realized she’d miscalculated.
Time was something of an illusion in space. Each planet had its own timekeeping system, usually based on solar cycles and planetary rotations, but in outer space, such measurements were conflicting. To ensure control over their subordinate planets, the Novador Federation claimed space time as theirs and implemented the central planet’s calendar as standard, which meant one day was half as long as a Malimor day. Her time with Mason was suddenly considerably less.
She should be joyous, but she wasn’t, not when she thought about the impending trial and probable imprisonment. She decided it was best to make the most of her stay with Mason, even if it was an illusion of freedom, rather like time itself.
He’d laid out more of his ‘rules’ over breakfast.
“You’ll show me respect and address me as sir,” he’d begun.
Jade had dropped her spoon. Hungrier than she’d imagined, she’d been shoveling some kind of dried cereal into her mouth. It looked like shredded bark and lacked flavor.
“You’re kidding,” she’d exclaimed.
“No.” He glared in her direction with opaque irises and lowered eyebrows. The allure of his mannerisms impacted her immediately, hitting her with a spike of adrenaline and she suppressed a childish giggle.
He brandished his fork. “Don’t you address your father as sir?” he asked.
Even more ridiculous. “No, I call him Pops.”
“Pops?” Mason had appeared aghast, his eyes widening into dark dishes.
“Sure. What do you address your mother as?” she asked.
“Mother,” he said succinctly.
“Formality a big thing on Ixzar?”
“Respect is.” On that point, he’d finished his drink and the conversation.
Now, perched on a stool in the engineering bay, free to work on her own, she ran through his infernal expectations: daily reports on progress, no slouching off without permission, no endangering herself during a mission, no arriving late for duties or refusing to go to bed on time. That last one had infuriated her, but she’d kept quiet. Nobody told her when to go to bed.
She stifled a yawn. It felt like days since she’d had a decent night’s sleep. She would decide when to wake up. If she needed a pee break, it was her right to add in a little respite to the duration. It wasn’t as if she was getting paid for working for him and although there was plenty to do, none of the key systems were in danger of crashing.
Picking up her tools, she left the bay. She had to locate the stasis chamber.
The room was filled with eight upright tombs, seven of them open and empty; the last was filled with cryogenic ice and the faint outline of a man. She approached cautiously, as if he might leap out at her. The lights on the panel flickered—the beat of his heart slowed to almost nothing, his brain activity minimal. He seemed to be fast asleep and in a dreamless state. That could be me, or somebody else. The idea made her both nauseous and sad. She blocked out the horrible memory and reached out to touch the control console.
“What are you doing?” Mason’s voice boomed from the other side of the room.
Jade jumped back, gathering her wits. “I’m checking life support systems, including the stasis—”
“You shouldn’t be in here.” He moved toward her; his large frame was nimble when it came to speed. “This room is out of bounds to you.”
“Then how am I to carry out your instruction to audit systems if I can’t physically check them?” She scowled and jabbed her finger at the sleeping Callo. “He’s not going to hurt me.”
“This is a restricted area. Only I can enter it, understood?”
She inhaled deeply, fighting hard with a retort. “Then, sir, it goes without saying that if there is a problem with the stasis system and it goes wrong, don’t blame me.” She detoured around him, heading toward the door.
Mason grabbed her trailing arm. “You do it with me present and following a request.”
She rolled her eyes
upward. “That wasn’t part of the rules you gave me this morning over breakfast.”
The pinch of his grip remained and he eased her back, forcing her to face him. “Did I not state you cannot leave your post or deviate from one location without permission? I left you in the engineering bay. Next time, you use the intercom to ask permission to leave.”
“I thought you meant I shouldn’t wander around Titan for my own personal entertainment.” Okay, that was how she interpreted his instructions, but it was rapidly dawning on her that Mason’s view of protocols was rigid and uncompromising. “I didn’t mean to break a rule, if that’s what you think I’m doing,” she added meekly.
He tipped her chin up and to her relief, she noted he’d softened his disgruntled expression. “No. I don’t think you did, but your attitude remains problematic. A wife of mine would kneel on the floor the moment I entered the room.”
“I’m not your wife. I’m your mechanic,” she said carefully, lowering her voice. Kneel, debase herself? It wasn’t something she associated with marriage. Her mum often ignored her father when he’d come home from work. They had their issues, but from everything she overheard, most things were resolved. Love seemed mutual and rewarding. Mason’s idea of a wife’s role was degenerate.
“No,” he said softly, “you’re not my wife. I don’t expect devotion, or even loyalty from you. I do expect obedience and honesty. My mate will be somebody who gives all those things to me without condition, because she loves me and needs my protection. That is how we do things on Ixzar.”
“That’s not me, is it, sir? I’m your prisoner.” She matched his intense gaze and his eyelids flickered for a second. “Do I get punished for this?” She cocked her head at the stasis tube.
Mason released her arm. “No. But now that my expectations are clearer, they’ll be no more second chances. Have you finished what you needed to do in here?” He stepped back when she shook her head, then watched as she moved between the icy tombs and examined each one in turn. He said nothing as she quickly completed her checks.
