Princess of Zenina

by Giselle Marks

  After bathing she helped him up the steps from the pool set into the floor of the room. The bath would easily have taken four if they were very close friends. Vlama gave him a bath sheet to dry himself with. When he had finished she put his arm in a loose sling and removed the cover from his breakfast tray.

  He looked for his clothes which were not visible, so wrapped in the towel he devoured his breakfast one handed. On the tray was a delicately cut glass with a jug of milk, a plate containing fruits he could not identify but which tasted sweet and succulent. There were also some slices of a number of cheeses, fillet of smoked orange fish, various sorts of breads, butter and some kind of jam. He looked at the quantity of food and thought he would never get through it all. But it made such a change from the re-constituted pap served on most space-ships that he cleared every plate and ate every crumb.

  He was thinking that what he would like would be some good strong coffee to round off the meal, when Chilka arrived with another tray. She removed the covers from the second tray to reveal a large fairly rare steak, poached eggs, small spicy sausages and vegetables cooked in different ways and a large hot milky drink. It was not however coffee.

  “I can’t possibly eat all of that!” He protested and she shrugged in reply.

  “I’ll take it away and have it liquidised and force feed it to you.”

  He swallowed and looked her in consternation, appalled as the prospect.

  “I was joking but you must eat it on Doctor’s orders. High protein, mineral and vitamin diet to assist with the re-growth of muscle, bone and tissue after regeneration. Besides, it isn’t so much. I eat that much four times a day. You’ll find you need the extra calories. Caffeine is not recommended for a couple of days after regeneration because it suppresses the appetite and increases the pulse rate.”

  She sat and watched him eat. He managed to struggle though most of the food and found the savoury milk drink surprisingly good. When he finished she stacked and removed both trays, returning a few minutes later.

  “Do you know where my clothes are?”

  “I’ll find out after I‘ve shaved you.”

  He got up to go to the bathroom, but she laid out a large towel on the bed and asked him to lie on it. She fetched foaming soap and water and unsheathed her knife which she began to sharpen. She started by soaping his legs and by shaving them.

  “I’m not having any operations, my legs don’t need shaving,” he protested.

  “Not just your legs, all your body hair,” Chilka stated, “Marina’s orders, stay still, you’re delaying me!”

  “I refuse to submit to this indignity, why must I be shaved?”

  “Marina expects her men to be shaved. Zeninan men have no body hair and we prefer it that way. Most men would see it as a compliment. It means she still wants you.”

  “If the reason is purely aesthetic, you can stop at once. Marina can take me as I am or not at all.”

  “You talk big now; I suppose she could have you without your arm and with your face scarred. But now she’s put you back together, you’re not grateful enough to please her by allowing the removal of some unnecessary hair. It’s not as if it won’t grow back. If you insist I will stop, but it won’t surprise me if I’m told to tie you down whilst I shave you.”

  During this time Chilka had finished with his legs and was already lathering up his chest and forearms.

  Bromarsh sulkily allowed her to continue, muttering “I don’t mean to be ungrateful, I’m overjoyed to have my arm back, but I can’t see why I have to be shaved all over.”

  “You’re not that innocent, no one likes hairs in their mouth.”

  She finished shaving his chest and arms and shaved his face and neck. Then she rolled him over removing the towel that he’d been wrapped in. She removed the small amount of hair that graced the top of his back before turning him on his back again.

  She proceeded to lather up his stomach, the tops of his thighs and his groin. He could not feel but that she was taking her time over the job. It struck him if he had protested less he might have enjoyed the procedure. What she was doing was certainly pleasant, perhaps too pleasant. His body responding naturally and would not be checked. But Chilka had now finished and was replacing her knife in its sheath, before handling him in a most explicit manner.

  Bromarsh did not know what to do; he was in Marina’s bed, having been shaved on her orders by her friend. He was aroused and from Chilka’s actions she clearly expected him to oblige her. She certainly knew what she was doing. But as Marina’s guest, would she be offended if he tumbled her friend into bed. He was not sure of Zeninan sexual ethics on the matter. Besides, he was not used to having two women, one after the other. He had considered himself a one-woman man and thought badly of those who slept around, considering them no better than whores themselves. He lay there considering his options whilst enjoying her ministrations.

  Her hands moved up his body and were now massaging his shoulders. She moved to concentrate on his right arm rubbing the flesh up along the lines of the internal muscles. She stopped and undid the buttons of her shirt, slipping out of it. She then returned to the task of massaging his right arm, placing his hand upon her breast and straightening his arm to push against her body to tighten the newly grown muscle. At last she appeared to be satisfied with his arm muscles and turned her attention once more to the rest of his body.

  “I suppose the massage was on Doctor’s orders, too?”

  “But of course!”

  “Do you usually strip to massage someone?”

  “I don’t usually put clothes on to massage. They tend to get in the way.”

  “Is the rest of what you’re doing supposed to be therapeutic too?” He asked as her fingers slid up and down his thighs.

  “Marina said you might like a little exercise before lunch to work your breakfast off.”

  “But you seem to be doing all the exercise.”

  “Oh, I think we can rectify that easily. That is if you’d like, I won’t be upset if you say no.”

  “Won’t Marina be offended?”

  “Why should she? She suggested it. She offered to look after the baby whilst I came and visited you. That’s what she’s doing now.”

  “Did she assume I’d agree then? Can she now assign my body to whom she pleases without asking me?”

  “She wasn’t sure how you’d react, but thought you might enjoy it, if you really don’t want me, I’ll try one of the other lads.”

  She reached for her shirt and started to put it on.

  “I haven’t said no, I just wanted to know how things stand. If you’re certain she won’t be annoyed, I would be happy to join with you.”

  Chilka paused in doing up the buttons of her shirt and leant over and kissed him. He kissed her back and started to re-undo her buttons. She stopped him and did it herself.

  “You must never, never undress a Zeninan woman. On Zenina, a man is considered to be seeking an owner if he attempts to undo a woman’s clothes. If you value your freedom, it doesn’t do to seem eager for slavery.”

  She untied the cord at the waist of her trousers and let them slide to her ankles. Stepping out of them, she moved naked into bed beside him. She snuggled onto the bed beside him and he clutched her to him. Kissing her deeply, he explored her mouth with his tongue. Her breath quickened and her hands reached down to caress him. She clung to him as he moved his head down her body. His hands sensuously touching her as he travelled inch by inch down her body. Tiny gasps gathered strength escaping her lips, giving him the assurance he was doing something right.

  Her body trembled as his caresses began to have effect. Lingering on the base of her belly, his hands wandered to the sides of her hips. Flickering, his fingers faintly down her flanks; he sat up moving past down her knees, down her calves to her ankles. Lifting her feet to his face, he licked and tickled her toes until she wriggled and writhed.

  “Stop please, stop,” she said breathlessly.

  Finally, he r
elented and slid the thumbs of both hands between her feet at the instep, he pushed them upwards running up past the insides of her knees to her thighs, firmly spreading her legs apart. Reaching up inside her, he needed no telepathy to know she was ready. Slowly, he entered her. Her body opened to receive him. Her eyes flashed as she felt the deliberate care he was taking to tease out her pleasure.

  The slow movements within her drew sighs and shudders of joy, deepening to more forceful bruising impetus. Pushing her higher he worked her until her back was arching away from the bed supporting his body as he drove ever more urgently into her. When he pulled back, her surprise showed clearly.

  That she had not joined minds with him, helping with her own satisfaction astounded him. He lay within her still, leisurely entangling his fingers in the dishevelled plait of her hair. Twisting escaped tendrils into ringlets, he waited for her breathing to return to normal.

  Then he pushed inside her again, thrusting deeper and harder than before. His groin grinded into her pelvic bone and she bit into his shoulder. This time he felt the push of her mind, within him, urging him on; faster, deeper, so he felt the reflection of her bliss. They flung themselves apart, gasping air in the glory of their pleasure.

  Barely, had they rested when she sat up.

  “Damn, the baby’s awake,” she exclaimed as she slung her legs over the side of the bed and reached for her clothes. He stretched his arms out to restrain her as she hesitated before dressing. Then she dropped her clothes and returned to him.

  “It’s all right, Marina’s picked him up, but she says lunch is in an hour’s time so we should hurry up.”

  This time she extended her mind to him before she touched him. Languorously they moved together again, their minds floating in and out of exotic fantasy as their bodies pounded in tempo together. Neither of them held back from their own pleasure, revelling in their mutual enjoyment.

  Bromarsh had just terminated his short struggle with personal isolation that all non-telepaths experience as normal, when Chilka crawled free from the tangle of their limbs, racing to the bathroom. Propping himself up on his elbows as she showered, dressed and tidied her hair. Marina knocked, entering without waiting for an audible reply, bearing a neat stack of clothes. The baby was slung across her back in one of the quivers, wrapped tight in fur, but still not happy.

  “Ten minutes to lunch, Father Debenden is tearing at the bit to say grace and eat. Chilka, I’ve tried to feed the little one, but I’m not producing much milk. The regenerations must have taken too much out of me.”

  Marina put the clothes on the bed; her shirt gaped at the front where the buttons were not all correctly aligned. Following Bromarsh’s gaze, she adjusted the buttons, tucking her shirt firmly into her waist band. Chilka took the baby off Marina’s back and proceeded to finish the feed. The baby positioned himself on the offered breast without complaint, taking a large bite and suckling deeply. His tiny toes curled and unfurled as he suckled.

  “Your clothes and luggage are being decontaminated as you handled the lepers. The others’ clothes are being dealt with too. The priest says he stayed well clear and refuses to part with his, but we’ll find him fresh clothing in Hemithea and decontaminate his. These will have to do until we land. You’d roast in your own things anyway so you best make a choice. Vlama stocked the ship, her taste was never subtle.”

  Bromarsh eyed the pile with distaste. He sorted through baggy shorts and shirts of garish hue in a variety of large patterns until at the bottom of the pile he found some plain black shorts with just a narrow edging in blue and a plain blue shirt which looked like they would fit.

  “What am I supposed to wear underneath these?” he asked. Laughter from both women was his only reply.

  “Thanks for the loan,” Chilka said with a wide smile to Marina.

  “I hope he was satisfactory, can’t expect much from an untrained man,” she teased back.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t leave him to the wolves on a cold night,” replied Chilka.

  Blushing as he understood the teasing, he clambered out of bed and stomped noisily to the bathroom, which was difficult in bare feet on thick deep carpet, but he was pleased to make the effort. He showered briskly returning wrapped in a fresh towel as Chilka was exiting with the baby. Marina sat on the bed watching as he dried and dressed.

  “Do all Zeninan women expect men to jump through hoops when you crook your little finger?” He muttered to Marina.

  “Most of us do, are you complaining? Chilka’s pretty good in bed, men usually like her.”

  “No, I’m not complaining about Chilka, she wouldn’t have made assumptions about my agreement if you hadn’t told her to help herself. And I never discuss how a woman is in bed with anyone, it is disrespectful.”

  “Chivalry is not required by Zeninan women, she thought you were all right!”

  “That relieves my mind, no end. Pardon my curiosity but what was that about wolves?”

  “Long ago, any slave of little use would be tethered in the snow for wolves as bait. When the pack closed in, the Zeninan hunters could pick them off with bow and arrows, the wolf pelts being worth more than the value of the slave. Recalcitrant slaves were threatened with sale or loan to a hunter to persuade them to behave. Some owners used wolf hunting as an aid to training a slave. As a slave’s gratitude after he’d been saved from the wolves was considered to improve his ability in bed.”

  “So it was sort of a compliment. I’m not sure I want to be compared with a slave.”

  “It was said in jest. If you’re ready to eat, I’m starving.”

  “What more food, so soon? OK I’m coming.”

  Chapter Ten – Bonding

  Lunch was a communal affair. Only Tippy was absent, but he had been fed already and was asleep again. Father Debenden intoned grace in a crystal clear voice. Letinza and Vlama were technically on shift, but ate one at a time with the rest of them. Letinza sat briefly next to Father Debenden and uttered a seemingly sincere apology. Marina had already prepared the way for her apology, explaining Letinza had been away from Zenina for several months on a diplomatic mission. She had been under pressure to behave in keeping with diplomatic protocol for so long, that, now returned, she had relaxed her self-control.

  The other Zeninans were ebullient and at times raucous. The children tucked the meal away as if they had been starved for months. Bromarsh seated between Letinza and Kazimira was enjoying the female attention nearly as much as the food. Marina, Chilka and Adelza sat interspersed with the other men on the opposite side of the table. The baby passed between them to be cosseted in turn.

  Ondiella sat at the foot of the table, toying with the food and trying to ignore her son, as he made little happy noises and kicked his bare feet. Even Vlama had not considered the requirement for baby clothes, when stocking the ship. Adelza and Chilka had cut nappies from some towels and made some simple shifts out of a turquoise shirt. With the faint blue tinge of the baby’s skin which was expected in a half-Kurgian, the colour was fortunate as it made the baby appear less of an oddity.

  Bromarsh realised Ondiella was unhappy. Her eyes were red, her face was blotchy and mottled as if she had been crying for hours. She ate little. Her eyes were restless as she tried to avoid looking at the baby. The little boy blissfully unaware of his mother’s sorrow enjoyed being the centre of attention. Whereas it could not be said he smiled, he was certainly content. Ondiella was uncomfortable. Her breasts were hard and sore, full with milk. Bromarsh wondered why Marina in her role as doctor had not given her something to dry her milk up. Her borrowed dress had damp patches where milk had escaped onto her skin. Each cry or gurgle the little boy emitted caused more milk to flow.

  Some members of the gathering might have been unaware that her cabin was next to Chilka’s, but Marina and Ondiella were not. The latter, because she had woken during the night at each cry, while the girl had slept on, Marina because she still hoped to unite mother and child. Ondiella’s cabin had been cleaned. The bed
s changed and the entire contents of the cupboards reorganised. All these unnecessary activities forced Ondiella into the main room where the baby was being cosseted by the Zeninans. That it was deliberate on their part had not occurred to her. She thought she would go mad if she could not get away from him. Yet he looked so tiny and helpless, she found it hard to hate him for his father’s sake. She could not even hate his father individually, as she was not sure which Kurgian had fertilised her. She did not recall how many, as she had lost consciousness towards the end.

  The meal consisted of four courses. The first was a choice between two thick soups and breads. The Zeninans without exception chose an orange, highly spiced, fish soup. The alternate choice, made of some domestic fowl and finely chopped herbs, was selected by the others. Considerable care had been taken in the planning of the menu to cater for divergent tastes.

  When the second and third courses arrived, the separation between them appeared entirely arbitrary. Dishes of meats, fish, vegetables, pastry and noodles were laid and served together. Several dishes were not recognised to the uninvited guests, some resembled things they would never wish to eat and they passed them by, only for the contents of those dishes to be consumed with relish by the Zeninans.

  Wine was served, but Vlama and Letinza did not partake of it. Marina repeatedly replenished her glass, from a separate bottle. Bromarsh assumed she was pulling rank and had something rather better than the others. By the time the final course of fruit, cheeses and sweet things was eaten, Marina’s speech had become noticeably slurred. Marina had the baby in her lap. Bromarsh who was sitting opposite her was surprised to see her poke the child. He was about to protest as the child awoke screaming, when he felt a very sober pressure on his mind.