Enslaved Read online

  “Inserted into my…womanhood? This?” She stared at the thick, blood-red shaft curving from the bumpy golden disk.

  “Well…yes, my lady.” The slave looked perplexed. “That’s how you wear it. Haven’t you ever worn a phallus before?”

  “I…I don’t…” Trin was almost speechless.

  “My lady doesn’t need this.” Thrace took the strange device from her and dropped it into the slave’s hands.

  “Oh yes she does,” the slave countered, trying to hand it back. “If she wants to be properly dressed and admitted to the feast tonight. No mistress will be allowed in without one, I can promise you that.”

  “Very well,” Thrace growled. “Then give us the smallest you’ve got.”

  “The smallest?” The slave looked as though he couldn’t believe it. “But you know, the heart’s blood stone is so valuable. Most mistresses are choosing to take an even larger size than they normally would just so they can have a more costly souvenir to take home.”

  “I don’t give a good Goddess-damn about any of that,” Thrace snapped. “Give me the smallest you’ve got now.”

  The slave shrugged his narrow shoulders.

  “As you wish.”

  He put the huge double ended phallus back into its black velvet bag carefully and then reached for one on the other end of the table. It came in a light blue bag and when he pulled it out, the heart’s blood end was a bit shorter and much more slender. This one, Trin estimated numbly, was barely as big as two of her fingers put together.

  “Here you go.” He tried to hand it to Trin but she stepped back from the table, her hands behind her back. Shrugging again, he gave it to Thrace instead. “Good feasting, my lady,” he told her. “And if you wish to break in your new phallus, may I suggest you do that soon. The festivities begin early tonight.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “Goddess…” Trin paced around the vast room, her hands still clutched behind her back. Thrace sat on the sleeping platform, the light blue velvet bag held loosely in one large hand and watched her. He couldn’t recall ever seeing her so agitated.

  “Mistress?” he asked, concerned at the wild look in her eyes. “Trin?”

  “I can’t…” She paced back and forth, her long scarlet dress rustling as she moved. “I can’t.”

  “I understand,” Thrace said gently. Honestly, he had expected nothing else. She’d been raised in a religion built around being unpenetrated—unsullied by allowing herself to be filled. It wasn’t surprising that the teachings of her childhood still had a vast influence on her—Thrace still remembered the things his own Sire had taught him so many years ago.

  “But if I don’t do it…” She stopped pacing for a moment and looked down at her hands. “If I don’t wear it, I’ll never sell those damn crystals. I won’t be able to make the last payment on The Alacrity…or pay my crew…or buy enough fuel to do another mission. If I don’t wear it, I’m screwed—figuratively speaking.” She gave a jagged laugh that worried Thrace even more. “And if I do wear it I’m literally screwed. Looks like I’m screwed either way.”

  “Come here.” He laid down the blue velvet bag on the bed and reached out a hand to her. “Come here and let’s talk about it.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” But she came to him anyway.

  “We’ll find a way to make it work.” Thrace took her small hands in his—she was cold, he noticed—probably with shock. He rubbed her hands gently, trying to warm her up. “We have enough fuel to make it to the nearest station. I can get some work there—I’m a hell of a mechanic when I have to be. We’ll earn enough eventually.”

  Trin gave that bitter laugh again.

  “Eventually. But the payment on The Alacrity is already past due and the interest is mounting up.” She sighed. “I guess I could ask my mother for credit…but I don’t want to do that. I’ve never borrowed from anyone. I make my own way.”

  “I respect that about you,” Thrace said evenly. “All right, so let’s talk about the other way. Tell me about your religion. Do you believe you’ll be damned for all eternity if you allow yourself to be penetrated?”

  “Well…no.” Trin shook her head. “No, it’s not like that exactly. Really, if you go by the letter of the law it says that only allowing yourself to be penetrated by a male’s shaft is blasphemy—an affront to the Goddess herself.”

  “What about being penetrated in other ways? With other objects or…” Thrace cleared his throat. “Other body parts?”

  “What…you mean like…fingers?” Trin’s creamy cheeks went dark with a blush.

  “Or the phallus.” He nodded at the blue velvet bag where the hated implement rested. “Is that forbidden?”

  “Well…not forbidden per say but if it happened—if I wore it—I could certainly no longer call myself one of the Unpenetrated.”

  “And how important is that to you?” Thrace asked. He wanted to know for his own curiosity too—not just the situation at hand. “How does it affect your life? Is there some kind of grand parade or celebration back home on Zetta Prime where all the Unpenetrated get to march down the street waving flags or something?”

  “No, of course not.” Trin gave a startled little laugh and he was glad to see the agitation fading from her dark eyes. “Nothing like that—it’s private. I mean it’s just…it’s between you and the Goddess.”

  “And do you believe the Goddess would never forgive you if you lost your status as one of the Unpenetrated?” Thrace asked.

  “Well…I mean, it’s not like all daughters of Zetta Prime are called to it…” Trin hesitated, nibbling her lower lip in a way Thrace found distractingly erotic. “Most of them pair up with another female and they penetrate each other with long silver rods for sexual pleasure. If they want to—it’s not required or anything. Some of them prefer…other forms of stimulation.”

  “So most the females who pair up, they’re not Unpenetrated and the Goddess of Judgment still loves them, right?” Thrace asked.

  Slowly, she nodded. “Well…yes. I mean, she doesn’t really love anyone. It’s more like…she approves of you.”

  “So if wearing the phallus won’t damn you to the Seven Hells and no one back home will ever know about it, then why not just wear the damn thing?” Thrace asked reasonably. “I mean, it’s only for one evening, right?”

  “I suppose…” Trin bit her lip again. “It’s just…”

  “Just what?” he said gently.

  “Just that…Goddess, I feel like such an idiot saying this.” She sighed and ran a hand through her long, dark hair. “It’s just that what if it hurts? I mean, I’ve never had anything up there before. The daughters of Zetta prime don’t have any kind of barrier—what they call a maidenhead—like they do in some species. But still, we’re very tight and my entire life I’ve been taught I should never put anything up there and I just…” She sighed and sank down on the bed beside him. “I guess I’m afraid. Stupid, huh?”

  “Well, coming from the female who was brave enough to walk into the Demon’s Eye by herself…” Thrace began.

  “Like I said, stupid.”

  “No. Uncertain. Cautious. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” He took her hand again and laced their fingers together. “What if I told you I could help you wear it without pain? That I could put it into you and give you nothing but pleasure, no matter how tight you are?”

  “What? How?” Trin frowned. “Do you have some kind of ritual?”

  “A ritual?”

  “Yes. Before they make a life bond, females on my planet have an entire ritual they go through to get each other ready for the silver penetration rods. Is it something like that?”

  “Well…not exactly like that but…” Thrace frowned, trying to think the best way to put it. “Look, with any female, the key to not hurting her when you, well…when you penetrate her, is getting her ready first.”

  “Ready? As in…?”

  “As in aroused.” He looked into her eyes. “You ne