Slave (11 page)

Being chained together was more exhausting than I would have thought, too, for anytime Cat gestured with his left hand, I got jerked in the neck with the collar. It
required standing very close at all times, and, needless to say, Cat’s erection never wavered. I wondered if it hurt him, but I’ll have to admit that I never asked since I didn’t want to draw any more attention to it than was absolutely necessary. Besides, as sore as my neck was getting, a little pain in the dick was something I figured he had coming to him. It was late in the afternoon when, exhausted and extremely hungry, we closed up shop along with everyone else, and after taking everything back to the ship, went out for dinner to see what information we could obtain in that way.

The food wasn’t too bad—I’d eaten a lot worse, believe me!—but if you’ve never tried to eat a meal across the table from someone who has hold of your leash, let me tell you, it can be a bit awkward! Cat did his best not to choke me to death while I was eating, but just having a chain across the table made for some close calls. Cat seemed to like to drink from a glass using his left hand, and I usually used my right. As a result, my drink got bobbled by the chain several times before finally spilling all over the table. The waitress was very prompt in mopping it up, but after that, I switched to drinking with my left hand, moving my glass out of the line of fire.

Interestingly enough, the waitress said the same thing to me that the other woman in the marketplace had while she was cleaning up the spilled wine. “He needs two,”

she whispered.

Finally I got brave enough to ask. “Two of what?”

She looked at me as though I were the town fool.

“Leads!” she whispered back. “He needs two leads!”
She departed quickly, leaving me as mystified as ever.

“You know, I must be really stupid,” I said to Cat.

“I’ve had two women tell me today that you need two of something, but I still don’t know what they mean.”

Cat replied without hesitation. “I do,” he said. “A man remarked to me earlier that he was surprised to see me with only one woman.” His lips curled into a sly grin. “I believe they mean that I could satisfy two.”

I rolled my eyes. “You haven’t even satisfied one yet, so don’t get cocky, Kittycat!”

He chuckled softly. “I like it when you call me that,”

he said. “I have found several ways to make you say it.

Perhaps when we mate, you will say that as well.”

“What? You
like
being called Kittycat?” I asked in surprise. “I didn’t exactly mean it as a term of endearment, you know.” I was beginning to wonder about Cat, and I’m sure my expression reflected that feeling. “I mean, it sounds sorta kinky to me. Besides, you say that like our getting together is an inevitability.”

He looked at me blankly.

“Okay, which part didn’t you understand?” I was going to have to stick to straight Stantongue and leave out the euphemisms and slang or he was gonna drive me frickin’ nuts!

“Most of it,” he replied. “What is kinky?”

“That’s a hard one,” I said, spearing my fingers through the hair at my temple before I remembered I was probably messing up my spikes. “It means a sexual preference that is abnormal or deviant in some way, like enjoying tying someone up and beating them, or only liking women
dressed in leather underwear or—oh, I don’t know!—

there are a million different things that could be considered kinky. Does that make it any clearer?”

“And liking it when you call me Kittycat is kinky?”

he asked. He appeared to consider this for a moment before stating firmly, “I would not call it that, myself. I think it is a…term of endearment.” He looked so smug, I wanted to slap him. “I believe that you like me more than you will admit.”

“Oh, is that right?” I demanded hotly. “Well, if I like you so much, then why am I not on my knees sucking that interesting appendage of yours, like half the women in this restaurant are doing to
their
males, huh? Answer me that!”

His eyelids lowered and I’ll be damned if he didn’t start purring again! “I could make you do it, Jacinth,” he reminded me. “Here on this planet, if I pulled your leash and put you between my knees, you would be expected to do it, would you not?”

Obviously, I should have kept my mouth shut about that. Ha! I would just
keep
it shut. He couldn’t very well pry my jaws open, could he?

When I didn’t reply, he began slowly gathering up the chain, pulling it taut until I had to lean forward across the table. “You look very…enticing in that dress,” he purred.

“It makes me want to mate with you very badly. But I will not force you, Jacinth. That would be too…kinky.”

Well, thank God for that!

“You could have kept me in those chains and made me do anything you liked,” he went on, “but you did not, and I will not do it to you, Jacinth. You will have me when you are ready. I will be waiting.”
I shivered slightly at the deep purr with which he ended that sentence. It was almost a growl, but more than that, it spoke of passion: heated and potent and just waiting to be unleashed. What would this man do if I ever said yes to him? I suppose the answer to that was fairly obvious, for with a lethal weapon like his, he’d probably kill me. I’d just about convinced myself of that when a little voice in the back of my brain told me that I would undoubtedly die smiling—just like every other man and woman in that restaurant!

Now, I’ll admit that I’d never been to an orgy before, so I couldn’t say from first-hand experience, but let me tell you, the goings-on in that establishment had to have come pretty close—although from what I’d seen in broad daylight, it was rather stupid of me not to assume that the nightlife would the most erotic to be found anywhere in the galaxy.

One of the first things I noticed as I glanced around was that none of the couples chained together sat on opposite sides of their tables the way Cat and I did, and also that very few couples were alone at a table; most were in groups of four or six. Another thing I noticed was that they were all touching each other in some sexual way nearly all the time. If a woman wasn’t stroking her male’s penis, he had his hand on her boobs or up under her dress, and the sheerness of the fabric made it perfectly clear what was happening under there.

As the evening progressed, the sexual conduct became even more uninhibited. A group of musicians (two males and two females) set up and began playing, which got the people out on the dance floor and then the show
really
began! Now, I’ve been in a lot of places where the people were all over each other while they danced, but I’d never seen people actually having sex on the dance floor. I certainly did that night! The funny thing was that, dressed as they were, no one had to get naked or remove any clothing whatsoever in order to do it.

I saw men on the dance floor moving their undulating hips in time with the music while their females knelt before them as the men fucked them in the mouth. There were couples at tables who were openly engaging in a variety of positions, but the most favored seemed to be with the women sitting in the laps of their males and rising and falling with the beat of the drums. There were people in groups doing all sorts of things with people who were chained to someone else. Apparently wife swapping was an accepted practice as well.

Their eating habits were pretty erotic, too. Men drank wine by dipping the female fingers into their glass and then sucking it off. One woman—and this was the strangest thing I’d ever witnessed in my life!—was actually sitting on the floor with her plate, using her man’s dick as an eating utensil. While it pains me somewhat to admit it, I was getting pretty well turned on from watching all of this, and I was very glad I was on the opposite side of the table from Cat. Those serrations on the head of his cock had to be dripping all over the floor as it was, and if he could pick up my scent out of all the rest of them in the room, he wouldn’t have had to ask how I felt about all of it—he would know.

I found out something else about Statzeelian sexual preferences, which was that they seemed to think that
prominent noses were really hot, and everyone there seemed to have a fetish for my nose. Now, my nose has never been described as huge—though it was considerably larger than Ranata’s—but when compared with the flat schnozzes of the locals, it must have seemed positively enormous. Cat didn’t exactly have a cute little button nose either, and more than one woman paused in passing to admire it, which I thought was rather odd when that showy cock of his was waving around in plain sight.

One man stopped beside me, asking Cat if he could touch my nose—a request which nearly had me in stitches, by the way—but Cat seemed to think it was pretty harmless, and gave his permission without much show of reluctance. Of course, what the guy didn’t tell Cat was that he intended to do the touching with his penis. He moved closer to me and stroked my cheek with his big, gleaming wet cock before sliding it across my cheekbone to rub the side of my nose. I was laughing, thinking that it seemed pretty strange, though not all that erotic, really—that is, until he stiffened up and shot his wad over the bridge of my nose and hit one of the female dancers in the ass with it. I was still in a bit of a shock, when I’ll be damned if several of the other men didn’t start lining up for their turn!

After that, two of the women positioned themselves on either side of Cat and started licking his nose, which, I noticed, didn’t seem to bother him at all. Of course, I couldn’t see what was happening with his dick under the table, but I have no doubt that the damn thing was gushing. They seemed to like his hair, too—which I thought showed impeccable taste on their part—and
once one of them got her hands in it, all the others had to give it a try. I knew from my own experience that it felt pretty damn fabulous, and, like his large nose, it was also a bit of an oddity, for none of the local males had hair much past their ears, let alone hanging to their waists in perfect spirals.

Just how we were going to find out anything about Ranata in a place like that had me stumped, but I couldn’t very well leave unless Cat did, and he was making no moves to depart—especially not when a couple of the women discovered his cock. At one point, he had no less than three women whose males were lined up to fuck my nose crouched between his knees to get a taste of it. He
had
to be enjoying that, and the women really seemed to be getting off on just the taste of him, apparently enjoying that fluid he was pumping out every bit as much as a wine connoisseur might savor a particularly fine vintage. More than one woman told me I was the luckiest girl in the entire universe, and while I considered this to be a bit excessive, it was also likely that they knew something about cocksucking that I didn’t. However, not wanting to seek any further enlightenment on the subject, I just nodded and smiled a lot.

I thought I’d seen just about everything that night, but there was one thing that I didn’t see, and that was an angry, belligerent male. It seemed that as long as they could have all the visual and direct sexual stimulation they wanted, they were pretty tame and never failed to thank me profusely for the use of my nose. After a while, a new game seemed to have been invented which consisted of a male rubbing his cock on my face until he
came over the bridge of my nose and his female would then attempt to catch the semen in her mouth. I lost count after a while, but from the soreness of my poor proboscis when we left, I think it was safe to assume that I’d been fucked by every couple in the place that night—even the musicians. I thought the lead guitarist was pretty hot, but then I’ve always had a thing for long-haired rock stars— though I must admit that I prefer those with larger noses myself. But he really was good. I mean, a guy with six fingers could play some serious riffs!

Slave 221107.qxd 1/30/08 4:36 PM Page 100

WE FINALLY LEFT THE RESTAURANT, AND ON OUR WAY

out, we passed the first really odd-looking alien I’d seen since we arrived. Most of the other offworlders were species that I had seen somewhere before, but this one was different. You couldn’t tell from looking at it whether it was male or female, but since it was alone, I guessed that it was probably female—though to be quite honest, I wasn’t absolutely sure. I suppose it could have been a male traveling without a female, and therefore did not have to have her chained to him, but I’d gotten the distinct impression that this was illegal—though if this particular species was genderless, it would obviously be difficult to decide which sex to pair up with it.

This business of making offworlders chain up their women and dress like the natives was a bit of an oddity among planetary customs. Generally speaking, on most worlds, alien life forms were allowed to dress in their usual manner, and if one obeyed the local laws, very little was mentioned about what you wore. But on Statzeel the style of dress (or undress, as the case may be) seemed to be a large part of the law.

The alien being stopped when it saw me, and its large, red, teardrop-shaped eyes began to glow. It had a rather bulbous head and very pale—almost translu-cent—skin. It wore no clothing of any kind, and in that
respect, it was obeying the dress code by going it one better and dispensing with clothing altogether, which might have eliminated the need to be chained up. I didn’t know, and for once, I didn’t ask because I didn’t even want to look at the damned thing, let alone talk to it! Only about a meter in height, it had long, thin limbs and appendages, and reminded me of some early sketches of aliens that the people of Earth had drawn long before they’d actually met any of them. This was, however, the first alien I’d ever seen that truly resembled those early descriptions, and it looked for all the world like something out of a nightmare, or perhaps the wild ravings of some lunatic who claimed to have been the victim of an alien abduction.

Stopping before us, it spoke to Cat in a thin, breathy voice. “An Earth woman!” it said with a fair amount of appreciation. “You are fortunate, indeed, my friend, for they are highly prized here! You will make a large profit on her when she is sold.” The alien then wheezed in what I presumed was a fit of laughter, though it was difficult to tell if it was laughing, or simply had a touch of asthma. Of course, it didn’t really matter because it gave me the creeps no matter what it was doing. “The last one sold for over two thousand credits, but she was not nearly so lovely as this one.”