* * * * *
Captain Lonarra Trin stopped in front of the platform where a huge male knelt, bound and blindfolded. His sheer size was what caught her eye at first—he had to be six foot eight if he was an inch and his massive bare chest and broad shoulders were ripped with muscle. He had jet black hair, just long enough to run your fingers through, if that was what you were after, with deep blue highlights that only showed if the light shone on it a certain way. His muscular arms were bound behind his back and his eyes were covered with a black blindfold.
Kindred maybe. Or something akin to one. Really quite gorgeous, she thought in a detached way. But not for me. I need something a little smaller—not so ostentatious. Still, she lingered beside the raised round platform where the massive slave knelt, not quite ready to go on for some reason.
She was looking for a body-slave but not for the usual reasons of the rich and indolent Mistresses of Yonnie Six. Trin was from Zetta Prime—a colony that had broken off from the main planet of Yonnie Six years ago. But though they were some light years away, the daughters of Zetta Prime, as they called themselves, still considered the Yonnie Empress their ruler and kept to their ways. Well—mostly.
Zetta Prime, like Yonnie Six, was a matrilineal society with little to no use for male input. It was ruled and peopled exclusively by females who passed on their wealth and privilege to their daughters.
But the daughters of Zetta Prime didn’t hold with the Yonnie practice of keeping a pet male around—a personal body-slave who would act as an errand boy, body guard, and means of sexual gratification. Not that the Yonnites ever allowed a male to penetrate them in any kind of sexual act. A true Yonnie Six mistress much preferred to do the penetrating herself with a strap-on rod which was inserted into the unfortunate male for punishment or pleasure, depending on how you looked at it.
The females of Zetta Prime didn’t practice male slavery or penetration. They simply believed in keeping their distance from males altogether and indeed, most Zettites were lesbians, preferring to love only other females.
Trin wasn’t interested in her own sex and never had been. But neither did she crave a male to scratch her itch. She had her own two hands and a more than adequate clitoral stimulator if that need arose. Unfortunately, as a merchant and a diplomat for the Zetta Prime ruling body, she had to deal with the haughty Yonnie Six society often. And when she showed up to one of the ruling body’s meetings without a body-slave to back her up, she was looked down upon and often as not, completely ignored.
That was the reason she was trolling the rows of slave for sale at the Flesh Bazaar located on Dominus Two—also known as the Hub. It had come to her, after Lady Malroth had snubbed her by refusing to even show up for a diplomatic trade agreement, that she could simply buy a male and train him to do as she wished. Which was mainly to look imposing and pretend to kowtow to her every wish whenever she was on Yonnie Six.
If he did a good job, she would teach him some useful skills—astral navigation perhaps if he was intelligent enough to learn it—and grant him his freedom after a year or two. She hated to condone the practice of slavery but it wasn’t like she actually knew any males she could offer the job of pretend body-slave to. There simply weren’t any on Zetta Prime.
It had seemed like a sound plan, lying in the sleeping chamber in her quarters aboard her ship, The Alacrity. But now, walking up and down the rows and seeing the misery and shame on so many faces, Trin wasn’t so sure. She wanted a willing slave—one who had been raised to it from childhood and had known no other life. Which was one reason the slaver’s cry of “Slavers fresh from the Carnal Houses” had gotten her attention. She’d thought that such a male would be more tractable and easier to train for her purposes.
Well this one doesn’t look a bit tractable, she admitted to herself, still staring at the huge, gorgeous male displayed like a dangerous beast in a menagerie. Like a beast, he was bound and wearing a collar—a pain collar, she saw with some distaste. Such devices connected to the pain centers of the wearer’s brain and forced them to feel agonizing shocks if the remote was pressed or a certain punishment word was spoken. Trin swore to herself never to use such a thing on whatever male she bought. But just the fact that the slaver had decided this particular male needed a collar to keep him in line let her know he wasn’t the one for her.
She started to walk on when the slaver in question sidled up to her. He was Xethian with the scaly green reptilian skin and a long, blunt snout rather than a nose. He wore ridiculously rich clothing as was the custom of his kind, showing off his wealth as a sign of success. To Trin it just looked like a sign of bad taste.
“I sssee you are admiring my wares, Mistress.” He bowed respectfully, a long, oily fringe of seaweed-like hair flopping over his narrow shoulders as he did.
“Ah…yes. Yes, I was.” Trin could barely hide her distaste. It took all her diplomatic training to keep from backing up, away from the unctuous, fawning slaver. “Kindred, is he?” she asked, to make conversation and take her mind off the swampy stench that was coming from under his ridiculously rich golden robes.
“Havoc, actually,” the slaver replied. “A distant genetic cousin to the Kindred with a few sssignificant differences. The most important being, Havocs do not form sssoul bonds with their females—which eliminates the concern of permanent ownership. If you don’t like him, you can sssimply get rid of him.”
“Well, that is a selling point,” Trin admitted. The idea of buying a male for use as a pretend body-slave and then winding up permanently bonded to him hadn’t even occurred to her. If it had, she probably would have run screaming in the other direction.
“They do have the sssame ssstrength, ssstamina, and courage as their genetic cousins,” the slaver continued. “With the added bonus of longevity. As long as a Havoc remains unbonded and unattached to any female, he will live hundreds of cycles in perfect health.”
“Wait.” Trin held up her hand. “I thought you said they couldn’t bond.”
“No, I sssaid they do not bond. The reason being that the moment they tie themselves to a female, they reduce their own lifespan to that of hers. Most are not willing to give up hundreds of cycles of life simply for the sssake of love.”
“Can’t say I blame them there,” Trin murmured. “Well, thank you for the interesting facts but I don’t think this male is for me. I just need a common body-slave to stand by me when I go on diplomatic missions. But I’m looking for something a little less…dangerous.”
“Oh, but this male is not dangerous—not a bit,” the slaver exclaimed quickly.
“Is that right?” Trin put a hand on her hip. Xethians weren’t exactly known for being the most truthful species in the universe. “Then why the blindfold and pain collar?”
“For show—most of my customers are from Yonnie Sssix. While I perceive you are…not?”
“What gave it away?” Trin said dryly. “The clothes or the color of my skin?”
“Both,” the slaver said. “Most females who come here from Yonnie Sssix looking for a body-ssslave are dressed much more…richly. And I have never seen one with brown skin before.”
“I’m from Zetta Prime—we have no use for overly fancy clothing,” Trin said motioning down at her plain black flight suit. “And my mother decided to use exotic sperm from a small, little known planet in the Milky Way galaxy when she conceived me at the Conception center. She was never sorry she did—nor am I.”
She had never been ashamed of her creamy light brown skin or her long, black hair. It wasn’t the Zetta Prime norm but Trin was proud of her exotic heritage and it showed in the way she spoke and carried herself.
“Of course, of course,” the slaver said quickly. “Which is why this male would be the perfect body-slave for you.”
“How do you figure that?” Trin raised an eyebrow at him. She couldn’t wait to hear this spin.
“Think of it, my lady—you are already most…unusual yourself. Different I should sssay. That in itself can be a problem when trying to deal with the denizens of Yonnie Sssix.”