by Sadie Marks
"Why? No one would believe me anyway! Do you know how many people have claimed to have been abducted by aliens? It happens all the time!"
"That was before everyone knew that aliens were real. Even now, people are reevaluating those claims and wondering how many of them were actually true—and some were, of course." He made a low chuffing sound that she now recognized as Sadec laughter.
This man seemed somehow more alien than her Trev. She couldn't completely explain it. Maybe it was because Trev had spent more time on Earth and had assimilated. The general seemed like some wild, untamed predator in comparison, and though she tried to ignore it, she could feel herself reacting to that thrill of danger.
"So, you're just going to keep me here as your prisoner and what…" What had Trev said? "…pass me around like a toy?" She spat the words at him.
"Your renegade was a throwback who didn't understand his own culture. We share what we value. We share what is precious to us, because that's the best way to honor those beautiful things. Those who refuse to share, who cling to the old ways of taking and hoarding their treasures, are excluded from society." He dismissed such behavior with a wave of his hand and Sam frowned.
Phrased like that, she could see the problem, but this wasn't about belongings; this was about people. "There's nothing wrong with monogamy," she said. Even though she'd never really considered it before Trev, she could understand the appeal. Many people on her planet were perfectly happy with just one person.
"For your people, perhaps, not for us. Sadecs are warriors, predators. Our passions run close to the surface and our culture is designed to channel those passions into productive paths. We share with people we trust so that we can work together for a common goal. One day—" He cut himself off there with a headshake and she was left wondering what he'd intended to say.
"That's for another time," he continued after a few moments of silence had passed. "For now, we need to make decisions about what to do with you. Your timing could be incredibly useful if you're willing to be helpful."
Helpful. After he'd just told her she was a prisoner. After he took her away from the man she loved—which granted was probably for the best, but still, it didn't put her in the best mood to be helpful to him or the rest of his race.
"What the hell am I supposed to help with?" she asked in a biting tone. Her emotions were too turbulent to even attempt to be polite, but it didn't seem to bother him.
"We are putting together a deal to present to your people, when the council allows it. We intend to ask for more like you—but these will be volunteers who will be rewarded for their services. Your input on what to offer in return for those who join us would be invaluable. And, of course, you will know better than we do how we can make these new humans happy when they come here. Until now, Pain Receivers have been so rare that most Sadecs have never seen one, except at a distance."
She was floored. He wanted her help to lure more humans in—like some kind of Judas goat. But no, these would-be volunteers, so not like her situation at all. They would have a choice, and if she was still on Earth and unattached, wouldn't she have wanted the opportunity? Yes, maybe. She could see herself signing up for something like this, if only to be self-destructive.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why are humans so important to you anyway? I mean, you have a whole universe for a dating pool. Why us?"
"This isn't about sex or romance. Most of us, nearly all, I would say, are sadists to some extent. We need humans because you balance us. You are the only willing masochists we've found who can take the pain and enjoy it. You're like a drug to us and one that I think might be very useful now that we'll be able to acquire you in greater numbers."
That was a lot to think about and she paced back and forth in front of him considering it. It mimicked some of the things Trev had said during their time together. He'd told her more than once how addicting it was to whip her. How the sounds of her pain soothed his very soul—she'd thought he was being poetic, maybe a little melodramatic too, at the time.
"I don't get it," she said finally. All her life, she'd felt like a freak for enjoying pain to the extent that she did. Society went in and out of phases where, for a while, BDSM would be a cool thing, but before long, it was back to being a shocking kink to be kept out of sight. The idea of being desirable because of it was difficult to accept.
"The Sadecs are ruled by a triad of generals. And every triad for—for as long as we have records—has ruled better with a human at their side. The presence of a masochist tempers their orders, encourages compassion and restraint. It gives them an outlet for their frustrations so that they can rule with wisdom instead of emotion, and without fail, every triad with a human has accomplished more for our people."
"Wow, so…" She stopped there, shaking her head. Her hand went up to play with her hair, twisting it through her fingers in a nervous gesture as she rolled that over in her mind. "So, if I help you, what do I get out of it?"
One eyebrow went up. "What do you want?" He seemed amused by her avarice.
She shrugged and dropped heavily into a seat across from him. "I'm not sure yet. But I want choices, and I want to have a say in what happens to me. I don't want to be 'passed around'."
"I've already told you that you can't go home," he reminded her. He spread his arms wide, palms up, "Other than that, I'm willing to discuss rewards." He got to his feet and his height suddenly seemed even greater from her seated position.
"Where are you going?" she asked, starting to rise.
"To give you time to think. You won't be able to leave your quarters unescorted until we decide what to do with you, but someone will bring you meals. Use the time to consider what you want and how you can help both our peoples."
And then he was gone, and she was alone with a lot to process and some turbulent emotions that had her climbing the walls before an hour had passed. She wanted to get out of her head so she could stop thinking about Trev, but there weren't enough distractions in the room for that. She wore herself out pacing and trying to hold back the storm, but eventually, she collapsed on the bed and sobbed for what seemed like hours before she switched to self-recriminations.
She'd trusted him. Why had she trusted him? She'd always known that you couldn't trust people because they always betrayed you in the end. She'd just thought Trev was different somehow, but he wasn't, and now she was a mess.
She hated crying; it was a weakness and she couldn't afford to be weak right now. But at least she was alone, and that was some consolation.
She let it loose. The pain, the anger, it poured out and was muffled by the luxurious furs that covered the bed. She indulged herself in all the dramatic histrionics she could manage over the next couple of days: crying, yelling, and throwing things at the wall when she was alone, but whenever someone would arrive with food or supplies, she'd force herself to look cool and aloof. If anyone noticed that her face was raw and red, they didn't comment on it. Maybe they thought it was how humans always looked. Did they even cry?
She had no idea, but after two days had passed, she tried to shake herself out of it. She was forced to face some hard truths and there was no way around it. Whatever Trev had originally intended, her feelings for him had been real, and his feelings for her—well, she couldn't believe those were fake either, but it was time to put herself back together so she could at least pretend to be a strong, confident woman.
It took one last self-pitying bout of tears before she could lock all those emotions away temporarily and crawl out of the bed. She was an expert at keeping things hidden, and soon those habits kicked in and saved her from the overwhelming feelings that were wrecking her. The anger, hurt, and fear were the easiest to lock away because she'd been hiding them all her life. They'd burst out occasionally but less often as the days went by.
It was love, surprisingly, that gave her the most trouble. She'd never fallen in love before, and that beautiful, warm feeling was tenacious. It would creep back now and then and rem
ind her of the good times she'd had, and then all she wanted to do was crawl back in bed and cry. She fought it.
By the end of a week, as near as she could guess, she was about to go insane. It wasn't that her quarters weren't pleasant, or even that she was bored. They'd brought her bags to her and she had plenty of texties to read. They also gave her a tablet she could write or play games on. It even had an Earth library of music and entertainment, though it felt odd to watch it on a flat surface instead of the more immersive 'Sphere.
But she couldn't escape her thoughts. Trev snuck into her mind frequently and she couldn't keep him out. She'd pushed away the anger, but it was the physical sensations she missed the most. Sitting alone, she remembered being held in his strong arms. She'd never been that kind of girl—the kind who didn't feel complete without a man around, but it had been different from the start with him.
Trev wasn't just any man. Right from the beginning, she'd felt a connection to him. She'd broken every one of her rules for him, and not because he forced her to, but because she wanted to do it. On Earth, she'd often thought if more Dominants were like him, she would have been willing to let someone else be in charge, for a while at least. But it turned out, none of them were like him because he wasn't even human.
The girl who'd always avoided the complications of relationships had somehow leaped into the most tangled web of complications possible. Trust her to fall in love with an alien—and it hurt when she let those emotions out of the box. It hurt so much that he wasn't there. She felt like she had something heavy inside weighing her down all the time. Her dreams were full of him, and when she woke up alone, she cried in the dark.
It didn't count if no one could see.
Finally, she succeeded in cramming all that awkward emotion back into a mental closet and then slammed the door on it. Whatever they'd had, whether or not he was telling the truth—none of it mattered anymore because he was gone. Knowing she was never going to see him again was the worst part to get over.
Circumstances didn't just change because you wanted them to, she reminded herself. She built up her walls and locked on the emotionless mask that used to feel so comfortable. Now it didn't quite fit, not at first anyway, but eventually she got used to it.
By the time the general came back to discuss her future, she'd managed to empty herself of all those sappy emotions holding her back. But her sassy attitude was in place and she had plenty of plans and ideas to show him. She laid them out for him in detail in organized chunks, prepared to struggle over each piece.
"Let's start with what you're offering the volunteers," she said. She was proud of how crisp and efficient she sounded. "Since I don't know what you have, it's hard for me to suggest anything in particular—but I can tell you it had better be something impressive if you want people to leave their families, friends, and planet."
"We have the technology to repair your damaged ecosystems and fix your—"
"Yeah, and all that's great. Make a list, because the government is going to want all of that. But most humans are going to think of themselves first. I suggest each volunteer gets something, and then, um, for every ten-fifty-however many volunteers sign up, the planet gets something. That way, you get the government on your side pushing the program."
He frowned, tilting his head as he considered this. "I don't think the council will agree to your government forcing people to sign up."
"Good, because neither will the people. Our leaders know how to push things without making it mandatory, though. Don't worry about it. Just know that you need to set up two kinds of rewards. One for the Pain Receivers." She rolled her eyes as she used the word. Such a fancy title for what was essentially a pain slut. "And one for the whole planet. Our government will push it as patriotic to sign up then, and you'll get way more people."
It was clear that he didn't understand this, and she had no idea how to explain something that was fundamentally human. Maybe Sadecs were all about the good of their world above all else, but her people hadn't reached that plateau yet. "Just trust me. Being a masochist on Earth is basically shamed. Most people hide it from everyone. If you want people to sign up, you need to change that opinion on a planet-wide level. Make it an honor. A special skill that only a few have."
They debated it back and forth, but eventually, he agreed with her. When it came to working out exactly what to offer, the planetary rewards were the easy part. There were so many things that Earth could use, and it was really just a matter of deciding what each incredible gift was worth in bodies. She felt a vague sense of guilty discomfort putting a value on people's lives and had to remind herself that it was all going to be voluntary.
And that brought them to what the slaves would want; she still thought of them that way, despite the fact that she could see the word held an entirely different meaning in this case. It took more thought narrowing it down, and finally, he provided her with a list of things they thought might potentially be interesting. The long columns hurt her head and made her tired, but finally, she stabbed a finger. "This! Right here!"
He leaned over to look and nodded. "I thought that might be popular. You Earth people seem very conscious of your appearance, judging by what I've seen from your media."
She shook her head and sighed with exasperation. She shoved some plates out of the way, from their working dinner, and slapped the tablet down in front of him. "No, it's not about looks, Tal'aav. I mean, yes, okay, some humans are vain. But you're thinking too small. Most people, if they aren't happy with how they look, will go to a skin modder or a body enhancer and get things fixed. It's expensive and, sure, you'll get a bunch who couldn't afford those procedures, but that's barely a drop in the bucket."
He waited expectantly for her to explain, and she rolled her eyes and began listing things. "Look, these things? These can't be fixed by our doctors yet. And these things could be fixed, but the laws banned it after this whole thing that happened years back. And this—for this, the fix is cosmetic only, which leaves people feeling fake and sometimes makes the problem worse. But every one of these problems can be solved if you can transfer their consciousness into a brand-new body that fits their exact specifications."
"And you think that is the reward to offer these people?" he asked. His tone was cautious but definitely interested and his brow was furrowed as he read down her lists.
"Yes. There is a huge number of people who got into BDSM specifically because of chronic pain, either emotional or physical. And sometimes the emotional is caused by the physical. You can give them what no one on Earth can. I know seven people right off the top of my head who would sign up in an instant for this alone." She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest as she gave him a smug look. She felt good about this.
After a terrible and devastating mistake had cost many people their lives, the government had cracked down on a lot of scientific experimentation, including cloning of humans. Even growing new body parts for replacement was extremely limited. The Sadec's technology would be life changing for a lot of people and getting to live out the ultimate BDSM fantasy for five years wasn't the worst price in the world.
She'd had to work hard to get him to agree to that five-year term too, arguing with him that he'd never get people to agree to a lifetime, no matter what the prize was. Something could be worked out about renewing contracts eventually, but that could be left for later.
"So, the question is will this work on everyone? If their genes or chromosomes are an issue—like with inherited diseases, or the wrong gender, can you fix that? How much can you change the new body you make from the original?" she asked, holding her breath as she waited for the answer this all hinged on.
"Everyone, yes. We have the technology to fix all of these. For those whose bodies have been damaged, it's simple. We simply clone the original and it will grow with everything intact. But yes, we can change it all, even gender. It's easy enough to manipulate the genes and chromosome as the new body grows. We've had humans long enough to have
thoroughly mapped them. Though I don't understand why someone who is already in pain would be attracted to more pain."
Not surprising, since he didn't understand masochists at all, and he'd made that clear. There wasn't a masochistic bone in his body, or in any of the Sadecs, so explaining it was like trying to explain teal to someone who couldn't see colors.
But Sam did understand, because it was her emotional pain that had first pushed her to explore BDSM. She just wasn't sure she could explain it to him. "Because, Tal'aav, when you're in pain all the time, sometimes you want it to be your choice, or you want a different kind of pain for a change. It feels better when you're choosing it. Plus, the pain you accept willingly can override the stuff you can't get rid of."
There was no understanding on his face, and finally, she just sighed. "It's different. Just—sometimes the pain from a scene helps to distract you from the pain you're stuck with. You'll just have to take my word for it."
And he did. She was the expert on this after all. There were a lot more details to hash out and they couldn't do it all in one day, but after several long meetings over the next few days, sometimes with other officers brought into the conversation, she felt she'd given him a workable system. She demurred on things she didn't feel qualified to offer suggestions on, but overall, she felt like she'd helped both the Sadecs and the future humans who would be on board.
Enough that she felt like he owed her a few favors, and after the work was done and they were alone, she tried to call one in. "I get that I can't go home—and I'm not even entirely sure I want to anymore. It seems like I could fit in here, maybe. But if all of these volunteers are getting paid off, I want something too," she said.
The general looked up, cocking an eyebrow. She couldn't read him as easily as she had Trev, but whatever he was thinking, she knew she had his attention.
