Futurity

WARNING! DANGER FOR DYLAN AHEAD!!!
A
R
N
I
N
G
!
!

SERIOUS badness is in store for the Dyllie. Be forewarned...lots of NON-CON action. RAPE!!! And a judicious use of sex toys...well, maybe not a JUDICIOUS use...

DANGER! DANGER!
Proceed at your OWN risk!!

Part Six

Dylan huddles on his bed, keeping a sharp eye on the horrid creatures roaming the room. They are chatting and laughing. No one is looking at him but that’s fine. He has no desire for any of those sluts to speak to him. Not a single one is fit to associate with even the average house kludge let alone him. So what if his bunk is in the far corner right next to the restrooms that just puts him further away from all of THEM.

What would those evil sluts do next? They had taken all his lovely things and hacked off his beautiful hair and…and…no, he isn’t even going to think about the other terrible, horrible things that those sluts had done. They were just jealous because he came from a decent house. Not like them….oh no. He’s nothing like them. He’s not stable fodder like them. He’s not anyone’s fuck toy. He is a Companion and will be treated with respect.

He doesn’t have to worry anyway. He won’t be here long. When that bastard Gaheris’ officers find out that he is down here, one of them will jump at the chance to have him for their very own. Or…or even better one of the Archduke’s courtiers. Once he is taken around and seen in public, there is no telling how high he could rise. Perhaps even Charlemagne, himself. Wouldn’t that show these horrid sluts and Harper too! Especially Harper since this is all his fault.

They are still ignoring him. Good. That skinny stick, Silas has been closeted in one of the cubicles with a client all afternoon so he is out of the way. And that awful Damien is gone for the next three days. An officer had taken the harlot down to the planet with her for her shore leave. Some people have no taste at all.

He is much better looking than Damian and he comes from a house. It should have been he that got taken down to the planet to frolic at an expensive resort. He had been with the officer first but things had just gone wrong somehow. Dylan frowns as he remembers.

The officer was a tall woman with roan hair braided and swept up around her head. She had stepped into the commons and looked the kludges over. Most were sprawled over the couches and cushions scattered around the commons area. Dylan sat perched on a small lumpy cushion by a low table. She had stopped in front of him, cupping his chin and staring down into his eyes. He did have fabulous eyes so he wasn’t surprised at her attention. She had looked over her shoulder at the manager and said, “This one...I like his eyes.”

They had retired to one of the standard cubicles. It was so sordid, stinking of those sluts and what went on in there. There was no window or anything just a bed some hooks for clothes and a sink to wash. Ointments and lubricants lined a small shelf right above the bed. Utilitarian…nothing special. Not at all what he was accustomed to. There were…implements, tools of the trade hung on a pegboard by the bed. Dylan could barely stand to look at them. They reminded him of what those stable sluts had used on him when he first arrived.

At first he had been smug about being chosen by an officer but then he realized that the officer was female and he didn’t know what to do. He had stood on the far end of the room, staring in dismay as she removed her uniform. She looked odd…all lumpy with full hips and those hemispheres jiggling in such a peculiar fashion on her chest. They wobbled every time she moved.

“What are you standing there for?” The officer scowled at him. She sighed loudly and cupped her…chest…in her hands as if in offering. “Rub my nipples, suck them.”

Ewwwww! She wanted him to put his mouth on those…things? Her big, round breasts were rather alarming and disconcertingly soft and squishy. Dylan had poked one with a finger tentatively and watched in dismay as it jiggled like a Balerian gel dessert. Still he had touched and kissed them with his eyes closed tight as he thought of his big bed in Gaheris’ quarters and how much he missed it.

“Not like that, you stupid kludge!” The officer had complained. “Suck them hard and nibble on my nipples while you’re at it.”

“What?” Dylan returned from his reverie with a dazed look in his eyes. “You want me to do what??”

The Nietzschean officer rolled her eyes. “Oh, never mind. Go down.”

Dylan knelt and gave her lower lips a tentative pat. Goodness. What was he supposed to do down here? All those tucks and folds. Dylan poked suspiciously with his finger. It was warm and slightly damp. His nose wrinkled. What was he supposed to do now??

“Are you daft? Eat me!”

He had been obedient despite his disgust. He had put his mouth on her. It was so icky. Really women were just as disgusting as men only differently but how was he supposed to know that she wouldn’t like it if he bit? She had said ‘eat me’. What else could she have meant? There had been no reason to kick him across the room. All she had to do was just say what she wanted.

The whole episode had been most mortifying. He hadn’t even been in there ten minutes with her before she was calling the manager and raving about defective, deficient kludges and demanding a refund. The Stable sluts had been gathered around smirking and sniggering as the manager threw him out of the room.

“That was some sort of record, Dylan.” One of the older male stable sluts had chuckled. “I don’t think anyone has ever been in and out in less than fifteen minutes. You’re a pro!”

“Way to go, Dylan!” A dark female slut had called from an upper bunk. Her brown eyes had been bright with mockery. “Gnaw the officer’s private parts off. They’ll be lining up to have you.”

“Oh, yeah, Sugar Plum. You’ll be in demand.” Silas had sniggered. “Is that the sort of technique they teach fancy house kludges?”

Two of the females had leaned against each other they were giggling so hard. They had called after him. “Hey, Dylan…Dylan. ‘EAT ME!’”

“Leave me alone you, stupid sluts. Females are not my preference.” He had glared at them to no effect. They just continued laughing while Damien had leaned against the wall and smirked.

“Is that a fact?” One of the dark-haired males nodded. “Never would have figured that one out.”

The manager called that, that horrid slut Damien in to pleasure the officer. At first, all the cries and screams had made him think that Damien wasn’t so hot after all but then the officer had come out and paid to have Damien all to herself for three days!

Dylan runs a hand through his ragged locks. He poses on the bunk. He might have fallen on bad times but he knows the proper way to behave. He isn’t going to lower his standards just because he is forced into this den of debauchery. From the corner of his eye, he sees the manager heading toward him. Already his beauty and elegance is bringing another client to him. No doubt someone who appreciates fine things like house-raised kludges.

“Come on, Dylan. Cubicle Eight,” the manager orders. “Try not to do anything stupid this time.”

Dylan stands up and tosses his hair. “I didn’t do anything stupid the last time.”

“Yeah…right.” A male slut chuckles, setting the rest of them off. Whistles and catcalls follow him across the room.

“Hey, Dylan…remember no biting.” The manager wags a finger at him.

Dylan strides regally across the open area, ignoring the mocking advice being called after him and the whistles. He pauses in front of the cubicle to adjust his threadbare gray shirt and the patched, worn pants. He walks in the room and freezes. There are two! Hector and Janus. Oh, no! Dylan stares, his eyes big and appalled. He has to…to do…things with them? With mere guards and Harper’s keepers to boot. Well, he won’t. He is above those two. The horrible woman had been a senior officer, at least.

“Hello, Dylan,” Hector smiles coldly. His long, red hair lies loose over his wide shoulders instead of pulled tightly back as he usually wore it. His vest is open, baring his muscular chest. “We thought we’d pay you a…visit.”

“What was your name?” Dylan asks nervously. He forces a smile. Surely they can’t expect him to…to…well, he will try to be nice. Maybe they just want to talk to him. “I kept getting the two of you mixed up.”

Janus smiles, his teeth are very white against his dark skin. “I’m Janus. You’ll be sucking me off this evening. That is Hector. He’s got the lube, so you know what you’ll be doing for him.”

“I won’t. You two are beneath me!” Dylan tosses his hair and turns to go.

Janus laughs softly. “Well, if you’re going to be like that, Hector doesn’t have to use the lube.”

The door won’t open. Dylan turns, flattening himself against the door. “Let me out of here, right now! I’m a house kludge. You…you, Beta scum, don’t deserve to lay a finger on someone like me.”

“So we’re Beta scum are we?” Janus frowns. “You’d better watch your mouth.”

“We don’t deserve you, is that right?” Hector grabs Dylan’s arm and yanks him back into the center of the room. “We paid for you for the entire evening. We want our money’s worth.”

“I don’t care how much you paid.” Dylan staggers and runs into the wall. He glares at them. “You can just get your money back or pick someone else. I’m not doing anything with you.”

“You know what? I think Janus is right. We don’t need any lube.” Hector chuckles evilly as he tucks the tiny bottle back into his vest. He pulls off his vest and tosses it onto the chair. “Oh, I like it when they fight it, don’t you, Janus?”

“Yes.” Janus peels his leathers off. He strokes his thickening shaft in encouragement, smiling as the kludge’s appalled stare focuses on his rising cock. “I like it much better when they put up a fight. Take your pants off, Dylan.”

Dylan pales. “No. I won’t. You’re not going to put that…that thing anywhere near me. You can’t make me.”

“Yes, we can and we will. Now take those pants off or I’ll cut them off you.” Hector tosses his pants over the chair. He proudly faces the kludge, displaying his swollen cock. He smirks as Dylan looks from him to Janus and swallows heavily.

Dylan disrobes with shaking hands and stands by the bed. He manages a glower by keeping his eyes strictly on the two Nietzscheans’ faces. “Happy?”

“I hope he fights us, Janus. Then we can punish him first before we fuck him.” Hector walks over to Dylan and makes a show of examining the kludge’s cock. He takes it in his hand and turns it this way and that. He looks over at Janus. “Not very big, is he? And still limp too. No wonder Rhade didn’t find him adequate.”

Dylan huffs. There is nothing wrong with him. Everyone knew that Nietzscheans were just ridiculously oversized because that stupid reproduction fetish that they had.

“Get on the bed, Dylan.” Hector purrs.

Dylan lies back on the bed and closes his eyes. He turns his face to the wall. He hears Janus and Hector laughing. Dylan snaps his eyes open. “What’s so funny?”

Janus shakes his head. “What are you doing? Lying back and thinking of Tarn Vedra?”

“He acts like he doesn’t enjoy it. That true, Dylan? You don’t enjoy it?” Hector moves closer stroking his ruddy cock near Dylan’s face.

“Why do you care? Just get it over with so I can leave.” Dylan snaps.

“Oh ho ho! Dylan’s got a bit of an attitude problem doesn’t he?” Janus chuckles. “I’ve got just the thing for that.”

“For goodness sake just fuck me and be on your way.” Dylan spreads his legs and closes his eyes.”

“You’re not the one in charge here. On your knees, slut boy.” Janus commands.

How dare that…that ‘kludge nanny’ give him an order? He doesn’t have to obey anyone less than an officer. He’s a house kludge. Dylan tosses his head and moves defiantly away from the bed. “What did you just say?”

Janus grabs Dylan by the hair and slaps him. He flips him over on the bed and climbs on top of him. He presses close, rubbing his shaft against the kludge’s ass. He laughs with soft menace as Dylan whimpers. “I said get your frigid, kludge ass on your knees, slut boy.”

“I’m not a slut.” Dylan pouts. He slants a disdainful look over his shoulder. “Harper is a slut.”

Janus leans back and slaps Dylan’s ass roughly. “Shut up and kneel, slut.” Janus moves back to let Hector take his place.

Hector smacks Dylan’s ass hard, leaving a red handprint. “Don’t you speak dare Harper’s name. But thank you, for reminding us that you need a little punishment for almost getting Janus and me killed.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Dylan whines. “It’s all that slut Harper’s fault.”

“Shut up!” Hector slaps the human’s ass hard again. “Bend over more.”

“No. Don’t you dare!” Dylan looks over his shoulder in horror as Hector kneels behind him on the bed.

Hector holds the kludge’s gaze and smiles, thinking of all the times that Dylan has mocked and sneered at him; how Dylan’s last little adventure would have gotten him and Janus killed if Harper hadn’t intervened. Oh, he is going to enjoy this. There is nothing as satisfying as a little revenge. He grabs the kludge’s ass and roughly pulls the cheeks apart. Hector shoves himself all the way in with a single thrust. “Yes, I do believe you are right, Janus. No need for lube.”

Dylan squeals as Hector begins to thrust. The redhead smacks a large palm across Dylan’s pale cheeks with each thrust.

Janus grabs the kludge’s ragged hair and yanks Dylan’s head up. He looks down into the pale eyes. He presses his cock against the kludge’s mouth. “I hear that you like to bite, slut boy. You bite anything of mine and an ass kicking is the last thing you’ll have to worry about. I’ll break your scrawny neck after I beat you into the carpet.”

Dylan clamps his mouth and glares. He flinches as Hector withdraws roughly. “Open your mouth, Dylan.”

Janus backhands him hard. “Do it, slut boy.”

Hector thrusts and as Dylan cries out Janus shoves the length of his swollen shaft into the kludge’s mouth. “There now. Suck it like a good little stable slut.”


&&&&


Elssbett sits between Charlemagne and her brother under an elaborately embroidered canopy. Her future subjects, the Jaguars stare back at her. Well, let them look and be awed by her beauty. She spent hours with her handmaiden preparing for this moment.
A white silk gown embroidered in silver drapes elegantly over her, leaving her shoulders and arms bare except for a light dusting of silver glitter. A collar of silver and diamonds rests at the base of her throat. Her curls are pulled back with silver and diamond combs to cascade down her back. Gauntlets of silver curl around her forearms.

“You are looking especially lovely, Elssbett.” Charlemagne leans closer. His voice is soft, seductive. “I trust you are pleased with the result of the negotiations?”

“Yes. I am, thank you. May I call you, Charlemagne?” She strokes a finger over the cool metal. Charlemagne sent her a fitting and traditional gift. The gauntlets are exquisite. He had to have noticed that she is wearing them but he has not said anything about it yet.

“Of course. We will have the toast and announcements then I will introduce you to my other wives.”

Elssbett studies his handsome face. Perhaps he doesn’t want his first and second wives to know about the gift. Well, they will learn their place in the new order of things. It is written in the contract that she will be his ruling consort with a higher status than his first wife. Her children will outrank the children that Charlemagne already has by his first wife.

“As you wish.” Elssbett smirks at the Jaguar females and strokes one of her gauntlets in a meaningful way as she catches that whey-faced first wife staring at her. She preens, very aware of all her future subjects, watching her. Well, let them look. She is obviously superior to those two has-beens. Once Charlemagne gets a taste of her, he won’t be interested in his other wives.

“I eagerly await our coupling.” Elssbett whispers in Charlemagne’s ear. She breathes in, shivering with pleasure at his scent.

“As do I, sweet Elssbett.” Charlemagne purrs.

Elssbett sips her wine and glances around Charlemagne. The Jaguar Matriarch stares back at her with a barely disguised sneer. Really the woman needs to be taught her place. Elssbett trades a regal nod with the Jaguar Matriarch. She might have to tolerate the prune-faced bat for now but one day…“Matriarch.”

“Kodiak.” The old bat replies stiffly. There is a faint trace of contempt in the faded blue eyes.

Elssbett allows her smug gaze to settle on Charlemagne again. Her future consort is gorgeous in dark blue silks and leathers. Her dark eyes linger on his wide shoulders. She has never met such an elegant man. She glances toward her brother and stiffens as she sees that insolent kludge of his staring at her. “Brother.”

“Yes, Elssbett?” Tyr asks without looking around as he strokes his kludge’s bizarre spiky hair.

“I asked you not to bring your little kludge to my betrothal announcement.” She hisses in annoyance as she glares at Harper.

Tyr turns a cold stare on her. “That is not open to discussion. You attention will be best served elsewhere.”

At least there is no fault to be found with her brother’s appearance. He is all menace and power in somber black. His little kludge is sitting beside him on a black velvet cushion. There is a glint of metal on its bare arm…is that a…surely not even her kludge-loving brother would stoop…no, not a helix. She sighs in relief but the gold armlet does look unnervingly like a helix at first glance. Has her brother named the kludge his mate…publicly? He wouldn’t do that…would he?

“Brother…what’s that on your little human’s arm?” Elssbett demands in a fierce whisper. She scowls. “Tell me you have more sense than to give your kludge mate status.”

Tyr leans close. His voice is low and icy. “What I do or don’t do is none of your affair…sister.”

“I will not be embarrassed by your little human in front of my guests.” Elssbett hisses. She notices Charlemagne looking at her with a curious expression. She flashes a forced smile at him. The Matriarch is also watching her. The bat.

“Then pay more attention to your husband-to-be and less to Harper.” Tyr touches her shoulder in what seems to be an affectionate gesture but his brief squeeze is hard with warning not to try his temper too far.

Elssbett glowers at the human but the kludge’s blue eyes meet her gaze, cool and unfazed. It smiles with mocking sweetness at her. Disgusting. Those kludges just make her skin crawl. She had begged her brother not to bring the creature here but he had ignored her. Her gaze flickers over the two guards, standing close behind her brother. Why are they staring her so avidly?

She shudders and looks away. She can see Captain Rhade further down the table. Handsome as always in his black and red dress uniform. Oh, dear. He has a kludge with him too. Damn her brother for setting this fashion for kludge companions. People who favored the creatures used to have the decency to keep them at home instead of parading them in public. And fondling it, she raises a disdainful eyebrow as the Captain strokes the creature’s red hair. For goodness sake, the damned thing is nuzzling Rhade’s crotch. It’s almost giving him a blow job at the table!

Way at the very end of the table, she sees Guderian and his pitiful brother, Dimitri. It’s really a shame about Dimitri. His genes are obviously flawed but Guderian won’t do what must be done. It’s sad. Poor, demented Dimitri will never win a mate. Guderian isn’t that bad looking but he is getting above himself to think that she will have anything to do with some backwater Alpha of an almost extinct pride. She still can’t believe that he dared suggest she become his thirteenth wife. Well, she has no objections to him seeing her mated to Charlemagne. Not that she believes that ‘just passing though’ story that he gave the Jaguar Matriarch. Nor does she think that prune-faced bitch believed it either. No doubt, the Matriarch invited Guderian in hopes of something happening to prevent the marriage to Charlemagne. Nothing is going to stop her. Nothing.

Charlemagne rises with a goblet of wine. Elssbett smiles widely. Now. Finally. She is to be mated. At last, she will achieve her rightful seat of power. She picks up her own goblet.

Charlemagne raises his glass. “My friends, we come here today, to celebrate new beginnings and to welcome--”

Elssbett gasps as pain shoots viciously through her arm. She jerks and red wine splatters over the white tablecloth. The room is completely still and silent.

Charlemagne’s composed voice falls clearly into the silence. He glances sidelong at Elssbett. “To welcome--”

Elssbett switches goblet to her other hand. She flexes her stinging arm under the table. What had happened? She forces a smile to her lips and raises her goblet. Heat sizzles right at the base of her bone blades. Elssbett shrieks as her arm jerks uncontrollably, flinging the rest of the wine on the Jaguar Matriarch. She drops the goblet on the table.

“To welcome our guests to this lovely banquet.” Charlemagne takes a hasty sip of his wine and sits down. He looks at the Matriarch who is dabbing at the red stains soaking into her green dress. Charlemagne leans back in his chair, staring grimly at Tyr, waiting for a reaction to his refusal to make the expected wedding announcement.

Elssbett stares down at her shaking arms. Oh, it hurts. What could possibly be…she shrieks and waves her arms as the pain sizzles through the sensitive skin at the base of her bone blades. She turns to her brother who is staring back with wide amber eyes. The rest of his face is firmly fixed in a completely neutral expression. What is he waiting for? Can’t he see what is going on right in front of him?

“Sabotage,” Elssbett hisses loudly into the silence. She rips one of the silver gauntlets off and waves it at Charlemagne. “You…you sent these to me.”

Charlemagne raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I never sent you a gift.”

Elssbett shoves her chair back and stands, swaying. “You did. You know you did. Don’t you lie to me. They came with a note saying that they were a gift from you; that I should wear them tonight.”

“I did not send those gauntlets to you. Are you crazy, woman?” Charlemagne’s gaze flickers from Elssbett to her brother.

“Then…then…” Elssbett stares wildly around the room. It’s true that Charlemagne has no reason to want to sabotage a marriage to her. It is the pain that makes her thoughts so disordered. It must be his wives, the bitches. Her wild glare settles on the two women. She points with a shaking finger. “It must have been your wives. They did it. They don’t want you to marry me.”

Everyone turns to stare at the wives. The women look at each other and shake their heads. One turns to the Jaguar Matriarch. Her crisp voice echoes in the room. “You said you checked her DNA. You said that the tests were conclusive. Could you have missed something? What is the matter with her?”

“I must have been sent a falsified sampling.” The Matriarch’s voice is also pitched to carry clearly. She looks Elssbett up and down. A smirk edges her thin lips. “There is definitely a genetic flaw here.”

How dare that wizened bat suggest such a thing! Elssbett gasps. She looks around in appeal at the sea of fascinated faces. “There’s nothing wrong with my genes. It’s them! His wives are trying to ruin my wedding.”

Charlemagne frowns coldly at Elssbett. His hard gaze slides past her to Tyr. “This is ridiculous, Elssbett. My wives have no reason to object if I should consider taking a new wife...which I am not at this time.”

Elssbett blushes with fury. “You asked for me, you swine. You know, you did.”

“Quiet, sister.” Tyr orders. His gaze locks with Charlemagne’s.

“There’s nothing wrong with me! You know there’s not.” She looks at her brother. His total lack of expression frightens her. There is nothing wrong with her. Tyr has to know that. She has superior genes. It’s a trick. But who…her gaze drops to the kludge peering at her around her brother. It smirks at her and holds up a tiny device. Her eyes widen in horror as it slowly presses the button. “It’s HIM! It’s HIM!!”

Elssbett squeals and yanks at the other gauntlet as her arm flexes and flails. The kludge silently mouths one word, “Problem?” at her. Elssbett manages to rip the gauntlet off her arm. She flings it at the kludge.

Tyr snatches it out of the air and stares grimly at her. “Who are you talking about, Elssbett?”

Elssbett looks around at the wide-eyed assembly staring at her and realizes that to them it must look as if she threw it at her brother. “It’s the kludge! It’s that damned kludge of yours. He sabotaged my gauntlets!”

Everyone turns to stare at Harper who smiles sweetly and rubs his cheek against Tyr’s hard thigh. He blinks back at them with an air of mild astonishment at finding himself the center of so much attention.

“Harper. Did you do anything to my sister?” Tyr sets the gauntlet on the table.

“No, Tyr, I don’t know what she’s talking about.” Harper smiles innocently.

Elssbett hisses with fury. “It has a device in its hands. I saw it.”

Everyone turns back to look at Harper who widens guileless blue eyes at them. “I don’t have a device. What would I do with one?”

Tyr’s gaze flickers over the audience. “Harper, show me your hands.”

“See. Nothing.” Harper holds his hands out, palm up and empty.

Tyr stares down at him for a long moment. He touches the human’s cheek lightly as he looks into the vivid blue eyes.

“It was the kludge. I know it was. Search him!” Elssbett screams.

Tyr gestures to Janus and Hector. “Search him.”

“NO! No. Not those two. They…they like him.” Elssbett clenches her fists. She glances around and then points at Rhade. “I want Rhade to search him.”

“Very well.” Tyr nods to Rhade. “But if he finds nothing you’ll need to apologize.”

“I’m not apologizing to that kludge.” Elssbett rolls her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Tyr.” Harper huddles closer to Tyr’s leg. His voice is soft and gentle yet loud enough to carry to the intent crowd. “Why is she being mean to me? I didn’t do anything to her.”

“He lies! He lies!” Elssbett sobs with fury. Her bone blades flutter wildly. “Surely you can see that! He’s evil! I want him killed.”

“Elssbett, calm down.” Tyr warns in a stern voice. “No one is killing Harper.”

“She’s scaring me.” Harper stares up at Tyr. He rubs his chin on Tyr’s thigh. “I didn’t do anything, Tyr. I swear I didn’t do anything.”

“I know.” There is the faintest glitter of amusement in Tyr’s amber eyes. He strokes the blond hair in silent reassurance. “Just let Rhade search you so we can end this.”

“You won’t let her hurt me?” Harper asks putting a tremble in his voice. He gives Elssbett a mock fearful look.

“Of course not.”

Rhade walks over. He kneels and quickly, lightly touches Harper, keeping a close eye on Tyr’s reactions. Janus and Hector hover close behind him.

“Look in his boots!” Elssbett orders. She bounces on her heels with impatience.

Tyr growls at Elssbett. “Let the man search him, please.”

Rhade meets Tyr’s gaze and shakes his head. He stands up and steps away from Harper.

Elssbett snarls. “Well?”

Rhade glances from Tyr to Elssbett. “He doesn’t have anything on him. Frankly it would be impossible for him to conceal a device with the outfit he’s wearing.”

Harper perches on his cushion as the crowd stares at him, taking in the snug navy vest and tight leather pants. He stares back at the crowd with a blank face.

Tyr orders, “Apologize, Elssbett.”

“No.” Elssbett trembles with rage. “I’ll die first.”

“As you wish, sister.” Tyr responds with soft menace. He glances down at Harper who is nuzzling his thigh again and attempting to look harmless. The blue eyes sparkle with mischief. Tyr runs a possessive hand down the pale throat and shoulder. His little Harper has exacted revenge in an almost Nietzschean way. Further proof of how worthy Harper is of mate status.

Tyr studies the guests, assessing the mood in the room. Harper might have created this situation but Elssbett played right into it with her uncontrolled temper and reactions. She would be a liability as the Kodiak representative at Charlemagne’s court. Charlemagne is a man who values intelligence and guile but he had asked for Elssbett. Perhaps it would be best for their future relations if he let Charlemagne out of this one. Time to unfold Plan B. “Charlemagne, is there a meeting room nearby where you and I could discuss…alternatives and options.”

Elssbett glares from Tyr to Charlemagne and back. Her hands clench into tight fists. “Options? What do you mean options?”

“Sit down and be quiet, Elssbett.” Tyr orders without bothering to look at her. He looks at Charlemagne. “We may yet salvage this debacle if you will speak privately with me?”

Charlemagne stands up with a wary smile. The blue eyes reveal guarded interest. “But, of course. I have just the place; if you will come this way.”

Tyr rises. He glances over his shoulder at Rhade. “Keep my sister under control while I’m gone.”

Rhade nods. “Understood, sir.”

Tyr pauses by his sister. “If I get summoned back because of your behavior I will be even more seriously displeased than I already am.” Tyr turns to Hector and Janus. “No one comes near Harper, understood? No one.”

“Yes, sir.” Hector moves to one side of the human. Janus stands on the other.

Harper casually leans against Hector’s leg and pats his boot, making certain that the remote is tucked well below the top. He offers Elssbett a sunny smile. Elssbett scowls and turns her back on him and glares out at the staring guests.

Tyr follows his host out of the room and down the hall to a small room that holds a conference table. Charlemagne drops into one of the red leather chairs and strikes a languid pose.

“You know that there nothing wrong with Elssbett beyond bad temper and poor judgment.” Tyr leans against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. Will Charlemagne be willing to accept Elssbett as a lesser wife? Probably not, after that performance in the banquet hall.

“Those are definite flaws that make her unfit to be my consort.” Charlemagne spreads his hands. “I concede that there is no genetic flaw in her. If there had been, my Matriarch would have found it. She doesn’t like Elssbett so I’m certain that she did a thorough search of her genetic matrix.”

So, Charlemagne is still willing to deal but Elssbett is off the table as a bargaining chip. Tyr inclines his head acknowledging the point. “If you do not doubt the Kodiak genes and still desire an intimate alliance, blood ties with my family…”

Charlemagne studies his graceful hands. “I have no doubts about the virtues of the Kodiak genes. An alliance would be good for both of us.”

Tyr opens his leather jacket slowly so that Charlemagne can that he is not reaching for a weapon. He removes a flexi, taps it and slides it across the table. “I have always doubted the fitness of Elssbett’s mother. However, I have a full sister, Artemis. She is younger and more beautiful.”

Charlemagne picks up the flexi and studies the image on it. The woman appears to be in her early twenties. She has the large, intelligent amber eyes of her brother. Her hair is arranged in an elegant and elaborate pattern of knots. She carries herself with a pleasing dignity. “You are offering her to me?”

“I think you will find her most suitable. Much more so than Elssbett.”

“If her gene tests are acceptable to my Matriarch, I will accept Artemis with delight into my court and household.” Charlemagne carefully tucks the flexi under his jacket. “But what of…” He waves a hand in the direction of the banquet room. “We will have to do something with her.”

“Indeed.” Tyr sighs. “I noticed that Guderian is present.”

Charlemagne raises an inquiring eyebrow.

“He has asked for Elssbett several times,” Tyr confides. “Her opportunities for creating trouble should be limited on that asteroid of his with twelve other wives to watch her.”

Charlemagne laughs. “A most interesting match. Shall I have him summoned to meet with us here?”

“Yes. I want to get this settled.” Tyr takes the chair next to Charlemagne.

Guderian strides into the room, his green leather jacket flowing around him. He glances from Tyr to Charlemagne. “So. What is this offer you are willing to make, Anasazi? Am I to have the unworthy Elssbett by default?”

Tyr raises an eyebrow. “You have asked for her many times.”

Guderian considers. He takes a chair on the opposite end of the table. “I already have twelve wives. What need have I for a thirteenth?”

Tyr eyes the First Alpha of Orca thoughtfully. Well, the man hadn’t gotten that way by being stupid. What did Guderian want in exchange for taking Elssbett? “You seemed to feel a need for a thirteenth quite recently if memory serves. It was only last season that you asked again.”

“Times and situations change.” Guderian shrugs his wide shoulders.

“That is true.” Tyr concedes with a wave of his hand. He sets his face in an expression of indifference as he waits for Guderian to open negotiations.

Guderian taps his fingers on the polished wood of the tabletop. “Twelve wives keep me busy enough but…”

Tyr leans back in his chair. “But?”

“I have a brother, Dimitri. He needs a wife. Surely Elssbett would prefer to be his first wife than my thirteenth. ”

“First wife is a good position to have,” Tyr agrees blandly. Dimitri had seemed normal enough at the banquet but there were rumors of some defect. “Your brother…how is his health?”

“Oh, Dimitri is outstandingly healthy -- physically. Nothing wrong with his genes. He was injured in a fight. He took a hard blow to the head…he’s been different since then but his condition is greatly improved these days.” Guderian watches Tyr closely.

At least, the First Alpha is not attempting to hide his brother’s problems although Guderian is probably downplaying them. Still, if the damage is not genetic, Dimitri will do well enough to get Elssbett off his hands. Very few were willing to have her before this ridiculous incident. Probably no one else would have her now. Might as well put a good face on it. Tyr frowns suddenly. Hmmm. Guderian didn’t say that his brother is fertile. Usually assurances of fertility were given. “Your brother, is he fertile?”

Guderian’s gaze drops. He sighs. “No.”

Excellent. He is beginning to doubt that Elssbett needs to reproduce. “Bring him here. I will speak with him before we announce the match.”

Guderian shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “I should explain that Dimitri is not…he has trouble communicating.”

Tyr narrows his eyes. Exactly how bad is Dimitri’s condition? “How bad can it be? He is functional is he not?”

“In a manner of speaking…” Guderian glances from Tyr to Charlemagne. “He is still able to serve the Orca in his way.”

“Bring him.” Tyr commands.

Guderian nods and leaves the room.

Tyr glances at Charlemagne. “Have you had any contact with this Dimitri? How bad is his condition?”

Charlemagne shakes his head. “We have few dealings with the Orca and those few have been with Guderian. This banquet is the first time that I’ve actually seen Dimitri. Guderian usually leaves his brother on their asteroid.”

“You expect me to believe that you do not get daily reports on everyone staying in your compound?” Tyr asks dryly. “What do the servants say about him?”

“Oh, the servants,” Charlemagne shrugs. “They may have mentioned that Dimitri cannot speak and behaves oddly but the tenor of their comments indicate that Dimitri can think and he makes attempts to communicate with them. He can also fight. He has worked out with the other Orca in the gym and on the training grounds.”

Tyr looks up as the door opens and Guderian escorts a slim man with dark curly hair into the room. The gray eyes meet his directly, reflecting excitement and curiosity. Tyr raises an eyebrow as Dimitri bares his teeth in a snarl and snaps at him.

Guderian pats his brother’s shoulder. He looks hopefully at Tyr. “The, ah, snapping gesture doesn’t mean anything personal. He does it when he’s excited or upset. May I present my brother, Dimitri. Dimitri, this is Tyr Anasazi, brother of Elssbett. And this, is our host, Charlemagne.”

Dimitri looks at Charlemagne and then Tyr. He turns back to his brother and begins making rapid flapping motions with his hands and groaning.

Tyr frowns. There is a definite pattern to the hand waving and a rhythm to the groans and grunts but he is uncertain as to the significance. Dimitri must have a certain level of intelligence but does he have sufficient intelligence to keep Elssbett out of trouble? Still there is Guderian and his twelve wives; between them all they should be able to control Elssbett easily.

“What was that?” Charlemagne asks.

Guderian strokes his brother’s shoulder affectionately. “We have attempted to teach Dimitri how to sign certain words and phrases.”

Dimitri snaps his teeth together and grunts at his brother. He flaps his hands rapidly.

“Yes, Dimitri. You are being considered as a mate for Elssbett.” Guderian replies quietly. “You admired her when you saw her yesterday.”

Dimitri snorts. His eyes narrow. A flush of red rises in his cheeks. He waves his hands emphatically and snaps a few times at Guderian.

“Yes, she is on the…” Guderian glances at Tyr, “ah, high-spirited side but that won’t pose any problem. She will settle down in time and make you a good wife. I am sure of it. This match will be a good thing for both of you.”

Dimitri stares at the ceiling, thinking things over. He glances at his brother and nods firmly. He turns toward Tyr and holds his arm out in the formal Nietzschean greeting.

Guderian smiles. “My brother accepts your sister as his mate.”

Tyr rises to acknowledge and return Dimitri’s greeting. He turns to Guderian, “There is one other thing. If I give Elssbett to you for Dimitri, you will engage someone to keep her watched and out of trouble?”

Guderian looks up sharply, hope in his eyes. “She will be well watched and held most closely.”

“Then she is all Dimitri’s.” Tyr clasps Dimitri’s arms briefly. “Welcome, brother.”

“Now that that’s taken care of,” Charlemagne stands. “Shall we make the announcements to the assembly?”

Tyr turns to Charlemagne. “Yes. Let us repair the damage done by my impetuous sister.”

Elssbett looks up as the men return to the banquet. Maybe all has been forgiven. Her brother and Charlemagne are laughing and talking quietly. This little mishap has been corrected. She will have her rightful status as leader of the Jaguar pride. Elssbett sighs and sits back in her chair. That little troublemaking kludge is first on her list of paybacks. Oh, she’s going to make sure he meets an unfortunate end. A very gory and unfortunate end.

Tyr and Charlemagne take their seats. Charlemagne leans over and whispers to the Matriarch then he stands and raises his glass. “Join me in welcoming the Kodiak to our family, fellow Jaguars. Archduke Tyr Anasazi has offered, and I have accepted, his full sister, Artemis as our consort.”

Elssbett’s smile freezes on her face. She sets the goblet back on the table with a thunk as she hisses, “Artemis? Artemis!” She twists around to face Tyr. “How could you? Artemis is a child. I am the eldest. I am First Daughter. It is my place to serve as consort to the Jaguar.”

“Your place is what I say it is.” Tyr growls. “Accommodations have been made for you.”

“What are you talking about? Options…accommodations…it sounds like you’re banishing me from the pride.” Elssbett snaps. There is a flicker of fear in her eyes.

“No, sister. I have arranged a match for you.” Tyr rises before she can ask him any more questions. He raises his goblet to the crowd. “Friends. Join with me in this celebration. Two of my sisters are now betrothed. My sister Artemis to Charlemagne of Jaguar pride.” Tyr pauses and looks directly at Elssbett’s ashen face. “And my sister Elssbett, First Daughter of Kodiak Pride to Dimitri of Orca Pride.”

“WHAT!” Elssbett screeches. She shoves violently back from the table, knocking over her goblet. “You can’t be serious. I won’t. I won’t do it. Charlemagne, please. It wasn’t my fault. The kludge. It was the kludge’s fault.”

The Jaguar Matriarch peers at Elssbett over Charlemagne’s shoulder. “So, unfortunate and peculiar…I’ve never met a Nietzschean who was so obsessed with kludges. She sounds almost paranoid about them. As if, a cute little kludge like that one could pose any threat to a real Nietzschean.”

Elssbett gasps. How dare that bitch! She glances around the hall. The others believe it. They think that she has some bizarre phobia about kludges.

Guderian, Dimitri and a group of sturdy Orca warriors walk up behind her. Guderian’s eyes are cold and mocking. “Never fear, Elssbett. We don’t have any kludges among the Orca. And if we should run into any, I’m sure Dimitri can protect you from them.”

“Tyr.” Elssbett recoils as Dimitri snaps at her. “Don’t make me go with them.”

“The betrothal has been agreed upon, sister. You will fulfill it.” Tyr stares sternly down at her. “Your future husband and his pride will take you back to their home world.”

“They live on an ASTEROID!” Elssbett yells over the Orca herding her out of the hall. “They don’t have a home world.”

Tyr sits back in his chair. The stern set of his full lips eases as he looks down at Harper. He strokes the human’s cheek. An excited hum of conversation fills the hall as servants begin setting out filled plates with the first course.

Harper settles back on his velvet cushion. His blue eyes are bright with malicious glee. He glances over his shoulder at Janus and Hector and winks.

&&&&


Dylan sniffs mournfully as he sits on the cold, hard floor. He misses his silk cushions. He misses his special toiletries and his clothes. He misses the little trinkets that Gaheris used to buy him. But right now it’s the thick silk cushion he misses most. It’s so hard to sit still when his ass aches so dreadfully.

Yesterday, Hector and Janus had kept switching places and taking him in turn for hours. All those awful Stable sluts laughing at him when he hobbled out of the room...horrible! And when he went to the manager, the man had just injected him with nanobots and told him that he should be healed enough for his next appointment. Hector and Janus had him for the entire evening hours and after that he had an appointment every hour until late into the night. He had been so sore that he hadn’t gotten hardly any sleep. And then when he finally fell asleep, those Stable sluts had grabbed him and pulled him into the showers and…and…those awful, vile creatures. One day he will make certain they are all executed horribly. He can still hear their cries.

“Still playing the superior kludge aren’t you Dylan?” One dark-haired male had taunted brandishing a huge dildo.

“Yeah.” A tall blonde woman sneered. “You’re not letting us have any of the work. You’re trying to make us stay in here while you take all the clients.”

“You’re welcome to them. I can’t help it if I’m so beautiful that they all want me but,” Dylan tossed his hair, “I don’t want any of them.” .

“Sure you don’t.” A red-headed male huffed. “That’s why you had back-to-back clients all day. I didn’t see you turning anyone away.”

“I couldn’t!” Dylan exclaimed. “You know that the manager made me take all those horrible people. I didn’t want to do it.”

“He lies.” A bald man turns to Silas. “You’re leader while Damien is away. I say we punish him.”

Silas stared at Dylan and nodded. “To the showers.”

Dylan shudders at the thought of what they’d done to him in the showers. Then it had only gotten worse.

He’d hoped that his next appointment would be with an officer and it was. The manager had summoned Dylan to his office.

“You’ve done quite well, Dylan.” The manager smiled. “I had no idea you were going to be this popular when Captain Rhade remanded you over to us. I have been pleasantly surprised at the number of officers and enlisted who are willing to pay to be with you. You must be doing something right.”

“Thank you…I guess.” Dylan nodded. He had known that his beauty was bound to bring him much attention but he is rather overwhelmed by the amount of it. “Could I have a rest now, sir?”

“No. You’ve got a client waiting for you.”

“Please. I’m hungry. I haven’t had any sleep and I’m so sore. Please, can’t you let one of the others take this client?” Dylan didn’t like begging but he was exhausted.

“’Fraid not, Dylan. I’ve got another officer who asked specifically for you.”

“Not again.” Dylan moaned.

“Yes, again. Cubicle Eight.”

Dylan turns to leave and is met by a tall, heavily muscled Nietzschean who walks into the room.

“Well…well…well. Dylan the ‘house’ kludge…” the Nietzschean growled. “I can’t wait to play with you. You like to play games, don’t you Dylan? What am I saying? Of course you do! You remember that little joke you played on me, don’t you?”

“I don’t know you.” Dylan backed away from the officer.

“Well, I’ve never forgotten you.” The officer snarled. “My name is Jared. We’re going to play a little game. It’s called ‘hide the dildo’.”

“I don’t think I know that game.” Dylan had whined.

“Don’t worry, Dylan. You’ll get the hang of it pretty quickly.”

Jared had taken him back in Cubicle Eight and shoved a huge dildo up his ass. Jared then affixed some sort of harness to hold it in place so it would remain buried in Dylan’s sore ass. Then Jared had spanked and spanked him. Jared forced him to continue wearing the accursed thing. After the spanking and initial insertion; Dylan hadn’t minded so much. At least no fluids were involved and he didn’t have to actually touch the officer. But now he can’t get away from the painful prod. It seems to be growing inside him becoming larger and thicker with each passing moment. Every time, he shifts position, he can feel it poking at him. The walk up to the mess from the Stables had been almost unbearable. Jared had smacked him hard on his ass whenever he lagged behind.

Jared sits in the chair next to him. Dylan glances fearfully at the large Nietzschean. He had almost forgotten about the insignificant junior engineer. He hadn’t meant to trip the Jared that day. Not really. He can only vaguely remember the incident. It had happened shortly after Rhade had chosen Dylan to come live with him. There had been a diplomatic reception of some kind and Jared had been displaying for someone and…well, he hadn’t dropped those ice cubes on purpose, exactly. It wasn’t his fault that Jared had gone careening right into the buffet table. He hadn’t meant any harm. Not really. Imagine Jared remembering such a minor incident.

He’s awfully hungry. He hasn’t had anything since the few scrapes that those Stable sluts left him to eat. That soup and sandwich that Jared is eating smells so good. His stomach growls and he looks hopefully at Jared who continues to eat slowly, making a show of savoring the food. Dylan sniffs wistfully at the delicious aromas filling the mess. Will he get anything to eat when he goes back to the Stables?

Jared glances down at him. “Hungry, Dylan? Would you like a bit of soup?”

“Oh, yes!” Dylan smiles up winningly at Jared.

“Well, that’s just too bad. We’re not serving kludges today.” Jared sneers. “But I may let you lick my bowl when I’m done. How’s that sound?”

“Wonderful.” Dylan winces as he tries to find a comfortable position. No matter how he shifts he can’t get away from the thrust of the dildo or the cold floor.

“Good boy. What’s the magic word?”

Dylan searches his memory. “Ummm…please?”

“That’s right, Dylan. But you hesitated. Too bad…no bowl for you.” Jared laughs cruelly.

Dylan looks longingly at the head table. There’s that bastard Gaheris with Kyle sitting perched by his side. That used to be his place. It was still his by rights. If only Gaheris had been more understanding and accommodating of a proper kludge companion. If only that evil slut Harper had not been brought from that alternate universe. Sitting across from Gaheris is the Archduke with that awful troublemaking slut Harper. Oh, and those awful, evil guards of his…Hector and Janus! Dylan glares at the table across the room.

Kyle is sitting on a thick cushion of dark green velvet. His long red hair cascades down his back in a silken fall to curl around the cushion. Just look at Gaheris! He can’t keep his hands off the little stable slut! He keeps stroking that ugly red hair and offering the horrid creature treats. Dylan’s eyes narrow. Kyle is wearing a brand new outfit of dark green leathers. His ass is bare but for tiny, glittering chains of green stones draping seductively over it. Well, really, the slut might as well have a neon sign on his ass, Dylan thinks with disdain. Those Stable sluts have no taste at all. A matching vest fits tightly over Kyle’s chest and, oh, Kyle is wearing a leather collar with Gaheris’ mark etched on the gold medallion fastened to it. Oh, that awful slut. He had been after Gaheris for ages for such a collar and that awful slut Kyle had gotten one in a matter of days. Dylan sniffs. Well, he could have gotten one too if he had been willing to do the disgusting things that Kyle is probably doing for that bastard Gaheris.

Dylan stiffens despite the painful prod of the dildo. The Archduke is petting Harper who’s leaning against his leg and accepting treats. That Slut Harper is sitting on a thick velvet cushion striped in bronze and cream. Harper is wearing nothing but bronze leather pants with slashes across his thighs and flanks. And, oh, he can’t believe it! How could it be possible? Harper…That Slut of all people is wearing a gold armlet around his biceps. The Archduke has given Harper official recognition as a mate! The unfairness of it all brings tears of anger to Dylan’s eyes.

A junior officer enters the room and hurries over to speak with the Archduke and Gaheris. There is a hushed exchange and the two men rise. The Archduke caresses Harper’s cheek and motions for his guards to follow him. Gaheris strokes Kyle’s hair and murmurs to him. The Archduke and Gaheris are leaving but they will have to pass by this table. Dylan droops pathetically. Surely Gaheris will be moved by his beauty and take him back. Probably even now Gaheris is regretting…oooh, Gaheris is talking rapidly to the Archduke and walking right by without even looking at him. How could he!

Dylan draws himself up with a haughty expression only to flinch as the dildo shifts uncomfortably. How long is that awful Jared going to insist that he wear it? He scowls as Harper and Kyle begin walking toward the exit, chattering merrily. The horrid guards trail along behind the two sluts.

“Dylan? Is that you?” Harper stops and looks him over. The blue eyes are cool and amused. “What happened to your hair?”

“You know what happened.” Dylan glowers from under his ragged fringe of bangs.

“Oh, that’s right.” Harper nods. “You’re in the Stable now. How’s that going?”

“Like you care, you awful slut!” Dylan hisses. “You and that other one make me sick.”

Kyle widens his eyes. Malice sparkles in the green depths but his tone is puzzled, “What did I ever do to you?”

“You took my place! You stole Gaheris, you stable slut!” Dylan tosses his head dramatically. His stomach growls loudly.

“I didn’t steal Gaheris, you silly thing.” Kyle laughs. He sweeps his long, shining hair over his shoulder and runs a caressing hand through it. “You practically handed him to me on a silver platter that day in the mess.”

“That was you?” Dylan’s eyes widen in sudden understanding. “You mislead me. You made me give you all that information pretending you were my friend.”

“Would it help to say ‘I’m sorry’?” Kyle asks, still stroking and caressing his long, beautiful hair. He smiles coldly. “Well, I’m not. You had your chance. So, how do you like it down there in the Stables so far? I hear that you are very popular.”

“Slut,” Dylan hisses as he glares at Kyle. His gaze turns to Harper. “And you…You are the cause of all of this. You’ll pay for this one day!”

Hector moves in front of Harper and smacks Dylan. “Are you threatening the Archduke’s mate?”

Jared promptly cuffs him and snarls. “You will address the Archduke’s mate with respect, you ungrateful kludge.”

“Mate? Him? He’s just a little backwater kludge who got lucky.” Dylan touches the knot swelling on his head and then his burning cheek. “He won’t be here long. Soon the Archduke will see what an awful little slut you are and send you down to the Stables. Then he’ll get me to take your place.”

Harper rolls his eyes. “You really are crazy, you know that?”

Janus leans over the table and glares at Dylan. “Hector and I may need to revisit the stable sooner than we anticipated. Rest assured, Dilly, we won’t be nearly as nice as we were on the first visit.”

“We had such a good time the last time we were there that we may bring friends.” Hector purrs. “We’ll have a party.”

“Jared, make sure you tell the Stable Master to reserve him for us.” Janus grins at engineering officer. “And why don’t you join us? It’ll be lots of fun.”

“My pleasure.” Jared smiles. “I know several officers who have not had the opportunity to visit with Dear Dylan and will be excited to hear about the ‘party’.”

“And don’t bother to bring lube…we won’t be needing it will we Dilly?” Janus smiles widely.

“Dylan, if you’d only been nicer to me…this would never have happened. But I want to thank you for all you taught me when I first got here.” Harper strokes his armlet. “Tyr and I are mates now and it’s all thanks to your good tutoring. It’s a shame we can’t be friends. But, after all, you’re a Stable Slut.”

Dylan throws back his head and howls. “NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I’m a house kludge! I’m not a slut!”

“Don’t contradict, the Archduke’s mate.” Hector smacks Dylan again.

Jared cuffs Dylan. “Shut up and let a man, eat in peace.”


The End