“Of you? I can never hope for that, nor do I want it.”
“What you want is for our roles to be reversed.” Vendeen grinned.
Daagiis said nothing.
Raven steered them back to the issue at hand. “You’re telling me I have to fight Vendeen with knives? You know, I could kill you if the program you gave me is as good as the others. I can’t believe you have a law that lets me murder like this.”
Vendeen’s look was probing. “I do not yield easily. I’m not going to simply allow you to hack at me.”
Raven gave him a steady look. “Are you going to try to kill me? If you find you can’t keep me, you’ll finish me off?”
“After what it cost me to repair you in the first place?” Vendeen’s attempt at humor sounded forced. Something shifted in his eyes as well, and Raven knew his answer before he gave it. “I will not kill you. I will try to make you yield, which means I will hurt you … but not enough to end your life. However, you are free to end mine, if that is what you wish.”
Raven’s stomach churned. She thought the little bit she’d eaten might come up at any moment. She concentrated on the sense she was still missing something instead. “What are you not telling me?”
Vendeen’s eyebrow lifted. “If you do win your freedom by making me yield and I live, you will not be allowed to be my protector anymore. Since you’ll have to leave me, you’ll not go on this trip to pursue Taambaa.”
As Raven digested that, Daagiis added, “You’ll be left to fend for yourself. That’s not such a bad option actually, though you’ll go hungry until you secure employment. Someone with your skills will eventually be hired as an independent protector. In the meantime, you could barter sex for the things you need. Once you gain an employer, you might even be able to save up the funds to return to your dimension. Your Earth.”
Vendeen smirked. “Don’t go to Paatuun for a job, though. They keep their pets for as long as they’re able to control them with no concern for time limits.”
Raven’s mind worked over the fight that was about to happen. She would have to hurt Vendeen enough to make him yield. The man she was supposed to protect. Raven completely discounted the option of killing him. Yes, he pissed her off. She hadn’t asked to be his servant or his bedroom playmate. She hadn’t agreed to be potentially addicted to him. But kill him? Absolutely not.
She remembered how Vendeen had held her that time she’d cried. How understanding he’d been despite being, as he himself put it, “not a kind man”. She thought how she responded to his strength and power. How she wanted to touch him. Even now, she wanted to go to him and wrap herself around him.
Was it addiction or something else working on her right now? It was no longer clear to Raven herself. She could no longer trust her own feelings, feelings she held for both Vendeen and Daagiis.
Daagiis was not addictive. He couldn’t ‘brand’ her, as they put it. So why was she drawn nearly as much to him as she was to Vendeen? The potential answer made her squirm inside.
To cover her unease and because she wasn’t willing to consider her motives, Raven made the wry observation, “Return to my Earth, huh? I can only imagine the explanation I’ll have to come up with for my disappearance.”
Daagiis nodded. “That would be interesting.”
Vendeen warned, “Make no mistake, Raven. If I win, you are my servant for the rest of your life. The Paatuun antidote does not work on Alt-Earthlings. You will be irrevocably branded and serve me and Daagiis in every way we desire. I will have you as my protector and bedmate until the day you die.”
“I understand.”
Raven understood, all right. She could win her freedom and lose her chance to catch Taambaa and make him pay for destroying the lives of who knew how many people. She would lose Vendeen and Daagiis as well. And yes, that was a huge factor in the coming fight. Raven was stunned to realize the thought of leaving the Gilothean and face-changer made her feel broken inside.
But giving herself, her whole life and control of it to them? To be owned and paraded around as their property? That was something she couldn’t quite contemplate either.
Vendeen slid two long blades from his bandoleer, walked to the center of the room, and faced Raven. He crouched down slightly, the knives held out in front of him in a fighting stance. Feeling unreal, Raven walked slowly towards him with Daagiis at her side.
The Paatiin said, “I will officiate. If I determine one of you is too injured to continue, I will stop the fight and declare the winner. If you decide to yield, yell it loud enough that I can hear it and acknowledge.”
Raven eyed the blades Vendeen held in his hands. They weren’t the longest in his arsenal, but they were large. Not pretty. Meant for the business of doing harm. Her program apparently was up and running, because her head was suddenly filled with information on what would work best for her in relation to what Vendeen intended to use, to give her an adequate amount of reach, and to her skill set.
She drew two blades, longer and lighter than Vendeen’s. They felt perfectly balanced in her grip, almost like extensions of her arms. She got into her own fighting stance, sinking low in a near crouch to protect her belly.
Not to kill. I’m not going to do that, so don’t give me any moves that will end his life, she thought at her program.
As for his assertion he would not try to kill her … she did not doubt him. The fact she’d been given an armored outfit to fight in, something not a condition of the articles of indenture, told her the answer to that. He only wanted to win her servitude, not take her life.
He cares about me. He’s no Prince Charming, but Vendeen really does care.
Daagiis drew away from them to stand to one side, out of the range of their knives. His voice tight, he reminded Raven. “A kill shot will end the contest at once, and you’ll be free.”
Vendeen gave her his mercenary half-grin. “The easier route to victory. I don’t intend to yield, no matter what you do.”
“Of course not.” Raven grinned back.
“On my mark,” Daagiis said. Raven could see how pale his face was from the corner of her eye. She wondered which of them he worried more for. Probably Vendeen. The Paatiin was obviously in love with his master, even though he didn’t care for being the slave.
“Begin!”
Vendeen was a blur of motion, coming at Raven with the speed of a freight train. His knives flashed and blurred. His face twisted in a wild rictus as he howled terrifyingly. Taken by surprise, Raven jerked to one side as he bore down on her.
Heat blazed across her upper arm. Raven gasped and spun away, getting out of Vendeen’s range. Her eyes widened to see the slash in her sleeve, and the thin line of blood on her exposed skin. The cut was shallow, probably not even enough to scar.
“Son of a bitch,” she swore under her breath. There was pain, but rather than frightening or crippling her, it brought all her senses into hyper-focus. A deadly calm came over her and Raven got ready for Vendeen’s next attack.
Perhaps sensing the change in her demeanor, Vendeen instead approached slowly. They circled each other, parrying a little, watching carefully. They tested eath others’ strength and tactics, the shivery sound of metal clanging ringing through the air.
Raven feinted, getting her knife under Vendeen’s defensive arm to score a diagonal stroke down his abdomen. It opened his fight suit. Blood beaded in ruby drops. He winced and danced back half a step, just enough to put them out of torso range. He slashed down towards her offensive wrist, trying to disarm her. Raven knocked the descending knife aside with one hand and lunged with the other, only to find Vendeen’s second blade passing just before her throat. They’d both barely missed dealing each other substantial damage.
Raven judged it was half an hour of such carefulness. The two of them felt each other out and studied tactics. They occasionally dealt cuts, that while painful and bloody, were never deadly.
Then Vendeen suddenly came at her hard and fast. The air screamed with the
bright clang of metal on metal as they fought furiously all over the room. Vendeen was stronger and Raven was faster, her longer blades making up for his greater reach. Adrenaline and endorphins pumped hard through her body, keeping the pain of many slashes and cuts at bay.
After the extended flurry, they both separated, as if in unspoken agreement. Raven was glad to see Vendeen was breathing as hard and bleeding as much as she. She thought perhaps they might both faint from blood loss before either gave up.
She scowled at him. “Great. We’re doing Hanos’ work for him.”
Vendeen tossed his sweat-soaked braid back over his shoulder. “As long as neither of us strikes a kill shot, we can both be healed or repaired before we reach the rim of the territory.”
Damn it, she was not about to kill Vendeen, and Raven knew – she knew – he would not kill her. The stray thought lowered her blades for an instant.
It was less than a second’s mistake, but Vendeen was on her, taking advantage. One of Raven’s knives went spinning away, and she lost no time drawing another. It was shorter, so she used it to block his quickly moving knives while she stabbed at him with the other.
Raven scored a definitive hit, her longer blade driving into Vendeen’s left side, well away from any vital organs. Rather than jerk away however, he came closer, letting the sharp metal journey further into his body to knock Raven down to the floor. Grimacing but grinning at the same time, he set the sharp edge of his knife to her throat.
“Yield,” he said triumphantly.
Raven still had her hand on the knife in his side. She twisted it. Vendeen screamed in pain but the blade at her throat didn’t waver.
She called his bluff. “You yield.”
The well-honed edge slid into her skin. It barely hurt, but she felt the warmth of blood running from the cut.
Vendeen’s face was pale beneath the bronze sheen. “Given long enough, you will bleed out. Yield.”
This was it. Either Raven gave up or she gutted Vendeen right here, right now.
I can’t kill him. I can’t.
“On one condition,” she said.
Vendeen shook his head. “No bargains.”
Raven twisted the knife again, and a high sound escaped Vendeen’s throat. She asked him, “Are you sure? We’re both bleeding heavily. Daagiis won’t have a clear winner until one of us is potentially dead.”
Vendeen scowled. Sweat beaded his forehead. “What is your condition?”
Raven drew a breath and felt the pressure of the blade grow. She forced herself to breathe slowly. “You and Daagiis treat me like a valued assistant in front of others, not a slave. Not even like your servant. When it’s just you, me, and Daagiis, you two can be lords and masters all you want. But I want my dignity in public.”
Vendeen’s eyebrow rose. “That’s it? All you ask is to be treated equal?”
“That’s it. Promise me that, and you’ve got me for life.”
Vendeen gave her his half-smile despite the obvious pain he was in. “Done.”
Daagiis’ voice was tight with worry. “Done and witnessed. Now one of you yield, damn it, because I’m about to call this off at a draw. I don’t want to see you two go at it again as soon as you’re healed!”
Raven kept her eyes trained on Vendeen’s. “I yield to your claim on me as property. I accept your ownership and commit myself as your protector … and sexual companion.”
Daagiis blew out a huge gust of air. “Great. Vendeen, get the hell off her and get your ass to Sickbay. I can’t carry you both.”
Raven released the handle of her knife. Vendeen climbed to his feet and swayed unsteadily, holding the blade to keep it sheathed in his body so that no more blood escaped. “Keep nagging and I’ll make you put your vagina on, Daagiis.”
Raven was no more steady as she stood next to him. “Watch it, buster. This vagina-bearer just fought your sorry male ass to a draw.”
“What happened to me being lord and master when we’re alone?”
Raven only grinned at him. Meanwhile, Daagiis pushed at them both, trying to hurry them out the door. “Move, damn it!”
Vendeen laughed for a moment before the knife in his gut made him stop.
Chapter 13
After being patched up by the medical crew, Raven and Vendeen returned to their quarters under the orders to rest for the remainder of the day. Mollified to know that only the stab wound in Vendeen’s side had been dangerous and it was well on its way to being healed, Daagiis went to the bridge to confer with the ship’s captain about their plans.
Raven was well aware Vendeen had worked hard to spare her any real damage as she scouted their room for spy devices and threats. She had been sure he wouldn’t risk her life. Still, hearing the bald truth from the ship’s doctor that she’d suffered no serious injury had settled much in her mind. Even if her feelings for Vendeen were only a circumstance of her growing addiction to him, he cared for her in his own savage way. A way she was beginning to realize she shared in kind, for both him and Daagiis.
We’re all animals; brutal, vicious animals. I might as well get used to that because it’s the choice I’ve made.
Somehow, the thought made her feel good.
Vendeen flopped in one of the armchairs and watched her perform her sweep. He seemed quite content for a man who’d taken a brutal stab wound only an hour earlier. But as Raven’s programming had informed her, she’d missed vital organs. The only threat to his life had been that of bleeding out, and Raven would have yielded to him long before that could happen.
His slanted black eyes were hooded as they followed her activity about the room. His deep voice made her very bones tremble as he said, “When you’re done with that, present yourself for my pleasure.”
“Yes sir.” Good heavens, he was ready for sex so soon after she’d nearly gutted him? A look at his crotch verified it.
His command made Raven both excited and nervous. She wondered what he would do to her. It was startling to realize she actually looked forward to being at Vendeen’s questionable mercies. Would he punish her for stabbing him? For insisting he make that concession about public respect?
Her pussy seeped moisture as she finished her investigation. Satisfied their quarters were safe, she stood before Vendeen.
“Strip.”
Raven pulled her bloody one-piece from her body. An intern in Medical had cleaned it and her as best he could while the doctor had healed her injuries, so what was left had dried stiff. She was relieved to not be covered in gore.
Vendeen’s greedy gaze raked over her body. His tongue peeked out to moisten his lips, and the blatant evidence of his approval distended the crotch of his own torn and blood-rigid outfit.
Without looking away from her, Vendeen opened the drawer of the small table next to his chair. He withdrew a cord of braided golden thread. “Turn around. Put your arms behind your back.”
Raven whirled smartly, placing her wrists just above her buttocks. With quick, economical movements, Vendeen tied her hands behind her, running a finger between the cord and her skin to make sure her circulation wasn’t cut off. Apparently satisfied, he said, “Face me and kneel.”
Raven obeyed, her heart picking up its pace at her vulnerable position between Vendeen’s legs. He rummaged in the drawer once more and drew out two tiny gold metal rings. Raven frowned, wondering what they were for.
Vendeen leaned forward to fill his mouth with one of her breasts. Raven arched at the warm wetness on her flesh and the velvety stroke of his tongue. He sucked hard, his tongue whipping over the peak of her nipple, drawing it tight and hard in reaction. Wetness ran down her inner thighs at the delightful sensation.
Vendeen slowly drew back, still sucking to pull her breast taut as he gave up his hold a little at a time. When he finally released the nipple, it blushed a deep rose and jutted eagerly. With an appreciative chuckle, he slid one of the gold rings over the nub.
Raven looked at the decoration with bemusement. If she didn’t know
better, she would have said she felt a tightening sensation, as if the ring was conforming to the size of her nipple.
Before she could think anymore about it, Vendeen’s voracious mouth seized the other breast. Once more, his tongue rubbed to make a rigid peak form, and he sucked hard before letting it go. The other ring went on and this time Raven knew she felt it draw tight.
How could a metal ring do that?
Vendeen’s mocking half-grin drew her attention. “I have mentioned I enjoy dishing out a little cruelty?”
“Mentioned and demonstrated.” His expression worried and aroused Raven at once. No wonder Todd had so rarely satisfied her. She had some seriously kinky leanings.
Vendeen said, “You respond to pain. Look into my eyes, Raven, and keep your gaze there. Rings, tighten slowly.”
They did so as Raven stared into the black circles of her master’s eyes. She gasped softly as the firming grip sent shivers of pleasure from her breasts to her clit. It only took a few seconds for the agreeable sensation to become an ache, however. She shuddered and moaned. Okay, it was definitely not comfortable now.
“Vendeen?” she gasped.
“A little more. Show me how much you wish to obey my pleasures.” His wicked smile grew.
Her nipples definitely throbbed now. The first stab of pain dug a spike into one peak and then the other. Raven cried out, her arms jerking against the braided cord imprisoning them behind her back. More splinters of hot agony, and she struggled against her bounds.
“Rings, halt tightening. Ice.”
The pressure immediately stopped growing, but cold blasted through Raven’s breasts, adding to the hurt. She couldn’t help but struggle to free her hands and she groaned with torment. Her vision blurred with tears from the poignant pain. She saw how Vendeen’s eyes widened as he watched her defy him by trying to escape her bonds even as she obeyed by staring into his eyes and remained kneeling at his feet.
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