Diplomat

by Robin Roseau

  “Why?” I whispered.

  “More intense. It feels so good.”

  I rolled the other way. Fodorie was watching, and she didn’t fight me when I painted her cheek, too. She smiled. “I like it hard.”

  I closed my eyes. “Help me.”

  “We will,” she said. “Let us do this now.” It was just a moment, then I felt hands on my hips, one on either side, and then a hand on each breast, one on either side. I arched my back for that, gasping.

  They didn’t talk. But they pressed on my hips, pressing me just a little more tightly into Nissault. We both gasped, and I began panting in earnest. Nissault had been panting for a while.

  They pressed and released, pressed and released. And on my chest, they teased my breasts.

  “Yes,” I gasped. “Yes, like that. Like that.”

  They pressed and released, pressed and released. Nissault began quivering, but I was ahead of her, and I knew it. I felt the orgasm coming. They pressed and released. I let them do what they wanted, and then I began to shudder deeply, gasping, panting, and then my entire body was shaking.

  And there was an echo of my shudders, an echo coming from Nissault.

  I gave out a cry, and another, and another.

  So did she.

  * * * *

  They had to carry me. I think it was Fodorie, although Nissault was right there, talking to me quietly, caressing my face.

  They brought me somewhere. I wasn’t sure where, but there was a bed, and there was Nissault, and we were together.

  I couldn’t get enough of her.

  I didn’t remain entirely out of it as long as I had during my first time. Instead, I became increasingly responsive to the things Nissault told me to do. And, of course, I was filled with such utter pleasure, obeying her orders.

  As I became more alert, she set me to her pleasure. I gave her orgasms, five or six different ways until finally she said, “Enough. Hold me.” We cuddled for a while until she ordered a bath. I bathed her, dried her, and then knelt beside her as she made a light repast for us. I continued to kneel as she fed us both, and then I laid my head in her lap.

  “Coo,” she asked. “Are you able to talk.”

  It took several tries, opening and closing my mouth, but then I said, “Yes.”

  “Good,” she said. “Is it hard?”

  Answering that was actually easier. “Yes.”

  “You’ve seen how things are in the city for important people. It’s different here. There is so much land to work. We can’t devote anyone to the role of pleasure slave. Thank you so much for tonight. You are truly a treat.”

  I burrowed into her, filled with pleasure by her words.

  We stayed like that another few minutes, Nissault stroking my hair, before she ordered me to see to the remnants of our meal. When I was done, she collected me and led me back to bed. “You will give me pleasure again, and then a massage until I am nearly asleep. You may sleep on the bed at my feet. There are spare blankets in the chest.”

  And so, that is what we did. I gave her pleasure, and then I massaged until she told me to collect a blanket. Once I was curled on the foot of the bed, she sat up, brushed my form once, and said, “Sleep.”

  I did.

  * * * *

  She woke first. I woke as she whispered my name. “Coo. Come under my covers with me.” She collected me in her arms, facing her. She was smiling. “You are so beautiful like this. I wish I could keep you.” She sighed. “I suppose if I could, I’d have to dress you in green.” But she kissed me and then lay back. “Please me one more time, Coo.”

  I did, using all the tricks I’d been taught. She came in wracking gasps, then reached down and pulled me to her. I lay with my head on her shoulder as she breathed heavily, athough she stroked me as she held me.

  “I need to free you, but I want you to see what you look like first. There is a robe in the closet. Bring it for me.”

  I slipped from the bed and found the robe then held it for her as she slipped into it. She took my hand and led me to a mirror in the corner of the bedroom. She adjusted me until I could see my entire form.

  It was stunning.

  I was coated from toes to high on my neck. The resin was bright red and carried a sheen. I lifted my hand and caressed my own face, and that felt very good.

  Nissault moved behind me, her hands on me. I held still as she stroked my back. It felt as if her hands were touching me directly, in spite of the resin in between us. Realizing that, I stroked my face, and my fingers could feel my skin.

  “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “There are women who don’t use it. It isn’t absolutely necessary. They think it’s too intense.”

  “I like it,” I said.

  “It feels good from both sides,” she said. Her hands moved to my bottom. That felt very good. I watched her in the mirror. “Coo,” she said, still touching. “Thank you so much.”

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  “For some slaves, this part is hard.” Her touch changed. She began stroking me downwards, and I watched as the resin began sliding down my body.

  “No,” I whispered. I tried to catch her hands.

  “Don’t fight me, Allium,” she said. “Hands by your sides.”

  She hadn’t freed me yet, and so I couldn’t help but obey. I held still, watching in horror as she brushed the resin away. And as she did, I felt more of my usual self come back to me. It took several minutes, but far too quickly I was naked before the mirror. I stared, saying nothing.

  Nissault set her hands on my shoulders and then pressed against my back. “Different people need different things right now. Do you know what you need?”

  “Hold me,” I whispered.

  She didn’t just hold me. She picked me up, carried me back to the bed, and climbed in after me, shedding her own robe. Then she lay on her back, and I pressed tightly against her, pulling the covers up. She stroked my hair with one hand, the fingers of her other resting along my back, just barely touching my bottom. I reached with my free arm and pressed her hand more tightly against me, and she chuckled.

  Then I closed my eyes, but I set my hand on her breast, not playing, just holding. I wanted to remember the intimacy. Nissault said not a word about that.

  We lay together for a while, not speaking, until finally I asked, “How long ago were you me?”

  “I was still 16,” she said. “Half my life ago.”

  “Thank you,” I told her.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “You do this to each other,” I said. “You grow up, not knowing if you’ll become a citizen or a slave.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “It is our way.”

  “Why?”

  She thought about it. “I can tell you what I think, but remember, Allium. I am a farmer and a corporal in the guard. I am not Lady Olivia. You’ll get a more complete answer from her.”

  “Then if ever I have another opportunity, I’ll ask again.”

  “There are simple answers. The work that happens must be done. Oh, not being a pleasure slave, but I talked to you a little about that. Do you remember?”

  “Farm slaves.”

  “Yes,” she said. “The work must be done. It’s good, hard work.”

  “Farming is very hard work and long hours.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know how a slave can do that sort of work. I wouldn’t want my work crews to be half brainless.”

  “Pleasure slaves are always taken much more completely than other forms,” she said. “And your owner can adjust how much of your brain is functioning.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Fodorie and Trellen…”

  “Yes,” she said. “If they hadn’t helped you like that, it wouldn’t have been as intense. Oh, you would still be far more lost than if I were making you a farm slave. And if the roles had been different, I would have taken you even harder.”

&
nbsp; “So. You were explaining.”

  “Right. The work must be done. If you have to do the work…”

  “Oh. That part is suddenly obvious. Plant a field and have an orgasm for doing it?”

  “It’s not quite like that, but it’s the right idea. The magic doesn’t make you any stronger or give you any more endurance, but it does help you to ignore the aches and pains of very hard work.”

  “I can see that.”

  “I’ve never done this, but I know of citizens who intentionally get themselves enslaved during spring planting and fall harvest. That’s not an option for everyone. There needs to be someone who can own you during that period.”

  “Is the process the same?”

  “The basic process, yes.”

  “So you wouldn’t necessarily ask your elderly grandmother to do it.”

  She laughed, rather loudly. “Probably not.”

  “So basically, it’s like taking drugs.”

  “I don’t even know what you just suggested.”

  “Oh. And now that I think of it, I’m wrong. We have drugs that give euphoria, but all the ones I know of also make you worthless. People become addicted. It’s very ugly. I’m sorry. That really is the wrong analogy, except some people seek the drugs to help them when times are hard.”

  “So some faint similarities,” she said. “But quite different.”

  “Okay, so that’s part of it.”

  “Remember that life in and near Ressaline City is much more difficult than life here. Much, much more difficult.”

  “I don’t know much about that.”

  “Slave labor can be made to work harder through harsh conditions, increasing the likelihood that more people will make it through difficult winters. I think over the centuries, this helped my ancient ancestors survive, but it means our population grew to the limits of what the region can support. That’s not necessarily entirely good.”

  “Now you own all of Charthan.”

  “Ressaline City has never felt such riches.”

  “You didn’t let them take their gems.”

  “Not that, Allium. Food. We’re awash in food.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Have you ever gone more than a single day without a meal?”

  “What? Of course not.” She said nothing, and I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was watching me. “You’re telling me something.”

  “People no longer starve to death in the winter.”

  “No,” I whispered.

  “I told you: life is much more difficult. Now, close your eyes and cuddle closer.” I couldn’t really cuddle any closer, but I pressed against her and sighed.

  She waited a minute and then said, “It’s illegal to let a slave starve to death. If you cannot feed her, you must either give her to someone who can feed her, or set her free. She may still starve to death.”

  “Nissault, I don’t think I want to hear more of that this morning.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right. I think there are other reasons we do this, but I’m fairly sure about one more.”

  “Is it just as bad?”

  “No. This is better. The people who become citizens do so because they have the strength and will to lead a household. This makes our people stronger. Do you see? In effect, we breed for leadership. When we took Charth, we found things there were quite different. People in positions of responsibility were still, well, they were waiting to become slaves. Is that terrible?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Said that way, it is a little.”

  “Okay,” she said. “But think of it in terms of an isolated society. We have never set out to be conquerors. We’ve never invaded anyone unless they quite egregiously did something to us first.”

  “Charthan invaded Ressaline first.”

  “It was one valley, but when we sent a squad to deal with it, they had an army waiting, and they were unkind besides. By the time our full army arrived, they had half of theirs waiting.”

  “They weren’t going to stop at one valley.”

  “That was our conclusion,” she said.

  “They started the war. Okay.”

  “Right. But ignore that. We’re an isolated group of women living in harsh conditions. Only the women with the strength of will to become citizens instead of slaves had children, and so the children were born of that strength. Do you see?”

  “I think I do.”

  “Coupled with that, we’re harsh with corruption. People who are likely to be corrupt as they grow older frequently show signs when they are younger. And because they’re younger, with less experience, they are far more likely to get caught.”

  “Oh, oh.”

  “If it’s child, they are chastised like any child might be.”

  “Kids make mistakes.”

  “Right. If she’s sixteen, there is always a period of enslavement. The duration is tied to the severity of the offense. If it’s sufficiently severe, or if you just don’t seem to learn, it becomes permanent. If a willingness to be corrupt is inheritable, we should have bred it out of ourselves long ago. Corruption exists. But if anyone here treated the Flavorians distinctly differently than Lady Olivia has ordered, we’d be summoned to Charth, and we’d be wearing resin when she got done with us.”

  I nodded. “It could have gone the other way.”

  “It’s always been like this. We don’t know why. The queen is allowed certain liberties, but our laws hold her to a very high standard, and she can be deposed. It is quite civil. I have never heard of her doing a single thing I would consider corrupt. Oh, sometimes she does things that seem possibly corrupt, but she always is given time to finish what she starts, and in the end, we understand what she was doing. Past queens haven’t always had her eye, but it’s been over 100 years since the last queen was deposed, and I’m not convinced she should have been. She was in a difficult situation and I think was making the best decisions she could.”

  I nodded. “You said the Charthans were just waiting to be slaves.”

  “Not all. But they were accustomed to taking a submissive stance around their men.” She shuddered. “I can’t begin to explain how unsettling that is to me.”

  “Welcome to my world,” I muttered.

  “You lead men.”

  “Moving the conversation on,” I said.

  “There are Charthan women who have become and remain citizens.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “What part?”

  “The ‘and remain’ part.”

  “Citizens can accept real challenges,” she said. “If it’s from a non-citizen, the citizen probably isn’t risking becoming a permanent slave. But you can accept a real challenge from another citizen.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Two basic reasons. The first is because you believe you’ll win, and you want her. The second is because you’ve been doing what we just did, but for a longer period.”

  “Oh,” I said. “And you want it back.”

  “Yes. Falling into that trap is rare when you’re raised to this, but it isn’t at all hard to convince someone who didn’t grow up with this.”

  “Do I need to worry about that?”

  “Well, you’d be happy.” She chuckled.

  “Nissault,” I said. “It was a serious question.”

  “Well, my first answer is accurate. This falls under the rules Lady Olivia has set. The women of Flarvor are specifically exempt from the sorts of things that are most likely to lead you down that path, barring exception from Lady Olivia. That doesn’t mean you couldn’t pursue it, anyway, but you aren’t the type.”

  “Far too bossy.”

  “Frankly, yes.”

  “I tried so hard to win yesterday. You wore so much red.”

  “Because I wanted to, and because I wanted you to see it. You were half lost even before you climbed into the tub with me.”

  “I know,” I said. “You were lying in the resin. I was o
nly kneeling. But I was the one who was lost to it.”

  “It’s like that the first few times,” she said. “Doing it that way is especially intense. In a lot of challenges, you sit on a stool with just your feet dangling. Frankly, I love that one, and for someone as new as you, I prefer the role I played. The only frustration is I couldn’t help you more than my words.” She chuckled. “There are so many variations. Ropes. No ropes. Just enough ropes to make it interesting.” She chuckled again and changed her tone. “Threesomes.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. We aren’t set up to do that one here.”

  “You’re all a bunch of hedonists.”

  “And just think. You invited yourself to the party. What does that make you?”

  “A hedonist in training.”

  “That’s right,” she said.

  * * * *

  We cuddled, still talking, for a long time until finally I asked, “Nissault, can we make love one more time?”

  “I’m a little done, if you know what I mean,” she said. “But maybe you’ll let me show you a thing or two.”

  A thing or two indeed.

  Later, she walked me back across the bridge. Halfway across, I stopped her. We turned to each other. “What happened with the others?”

  “I haven’t a clue,” she said. “All I know is they won’t have done quite what we did.”

  I brushed her face with my hand. “My first was with a woman named Lisolte. Do you know her?”

  She smiled. “You could say that.”

  “She told me she offered herself to someone here.”

  “She did,” Nissault confirmed.

  “You?” She inclined her head. I laughed. “It’s unlikely I will ever have the sort of time she gave you. I don’t know if I’m going to be in a position to make a habit of this, but I may want you to make me a farm slave for a day. I find it unlikely I could ever do longer than that. I don’t know a thing about farming, though. Would I be any use?”

  “There is always maintenance, and I bet you know how to do those things.”

  “I build roads and bridges, but I’m a fully trained engineer. We work with stone and lumber. I wouldn’t say I can do everything that each member of my crew can do, but I couldn’t lead them if I couldn’t do most of it. Some of them do it better than I do, and most of them become faster than I am. But I can do it. But I don’t want to do this if you’re just going to make me do something I already do every day.”