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  “Not right, you say?” The Mistress gave a throaty laugh. “But my Malik responds so well to subjugation.” She snapped her fingers again. “Mal, on your knees before me.’

  Without hesitation, the massive male dropped to his knees before his mistress’s chair.

  “Now then…” Sitting up from her sensuous slouch, Mistress Hellenix waved a hand in front of her tight leather bustier. The black leather melted away like magic, leaving her full breasts bare. One nipple, Sylvan saw, was coated in bright, sparkling red and gold powder of some kind—almost like colored sugar crystals. The other was dusted in the same way but the sparkling powder covering it was a cool blue and white.

  “I really don’t see—” he began but Mistress Hellenix shushed him with one upraised hand.

  “You will, Commander Sylvan,” she murmured. “Now then, Malik—which shall it be?” she crooned. “The bitter or the sweet? Fire or ice?”

  “Whatever my Mistress wills.” The slave’s deep voice was utterly without inflection. Truly, he seemed not to care what happened to him.

  “Well then—let it be fire. For it is my wish that you have pain, my pet. Show your kinsman how willingly you will endure agony for me.”

  Again, without hesitation, the massive Kindred leaned forward and sucked the red and gold dusted nipple into his mouth. He was so tall, compared to his rather diminutive Mistress, that even on his knees before her he had to duck his head to capture her peak in his mouth. But he did it without expression, sucking her deep and hard without stopping although sweat almost immediately sprang up on his brow.

  “Mmmm…that’s good.” Mistress Hellenix stroked his long, wheat-colored hair approvingly. “Does it pain you, my Malik? Does it make your shaft ache? How long has it been since I allowed you out of your little chastity cage, hmm?”

  The huge warrior made no answer but simply continued sucking. Looking between his legs, Sylvan saw with horror that there was, indeed, some kind of cage attached to his genitals which were visible outside the tight leather trousers he wore. The cage appeared to be made of some kind of silver wire and it hung low between his thighs as though to accommodate his massive size while keeping his shaft from being accessible to his hands.

  To an untrained eye it might appear that the Kindred slave was performing willingly—or even enjoying himself. But along with the sweat that beaded the Volt Kindred’s brow, Sylvan saw that his hands were clenched into huge fists. And tiny silver sparks of pure power were jumping from knuckle to knuckle. Hmm…perhaps he had been wrong about the male not being able to use his powers.

  “All right,” he said hoarsely. “You’ve proved your point. I see that he’ll do anything you want—you can stop your sadistic little demonstration.”

  The Mistress waved one hand negligently.

  “Sit back, Malik.”

  The slave sat back on his heels, his face still completely expressionless. But was that a spark of pure hatred, burning down deep in the silver depths of his eyes? If so, he hid it well. But Sylvan could see he was still sweating—his hands still clenching by his sides. No matter how iron his self-control it was clear he was in horrible pain.

  “What have you done to him?” he asked, more upset than ever as the doctor part of him protested this cruel treatment. “Is he still hurting?”

  “Oh yes—of course. The pain will continue until I let him suck my other nipple—where the antidote to the fire dust is located.” She smiled languidly. “I’ll do that presently. But first, where are my stones?”

  “Here.” Sylvan thought about holding the valuable stones hostage until she agreed to release her Kindred slave. But they weren’t his to bargain with since the auction house was involved. Unhappily, he unwrapped the stones from the clean, white cloth he’d brought them in and thrust them out, careful not to touch them directly with his bare skin.

  “Ahh…at last, my E’lo stones,” Mistress Hellenix gloated, leaning over Sylvan’s proffered hand. She frowned. “I see the seer stone and one of the transport stones—but where is the other?”

  “That one was lost when the Hive used it to transport an Earth female to their lair,” Sylvan said stiffly. “We are still searching for it but it may have been swept into the Earth’s oceans. Where it is now is anyone’s guess.”

  “One transport stone isn’t much use without the other, now is it?” the Yonnite Mistress snapped. She sighed. “Ah well—they’re for display purposes only anyway. Though I want the missing stone immediately if it’s found.”

  “Of course.” Sylvan nodded. “But I would be cautious with the one remaining transport stone if I were you. Though they were reconfigured by the Hive to bring one particular female from Earth to Mars, they were originally intended to cause two people in different parts of the Universe to switch places in an instant. If someone on Earth was to find the missing stone and touch it, just as you were touching that one—”

  “Oh, please!” The Yonnite Mistress laughed as though he’d said something crazy. “Everyone knows the stones don’t actually work anymore—not as they were intended to. They’re only useful as curiosities—collector’s pieces. Besides, in order for them to function in that way the person picking up the stone would have to be a virtual doppelganger of me—almost my genetic twin. Do you know how rare that is?” She frowned and rose, cupping the stones in their white cloth carefully in her palms. “I can’t see the clarity of these as I’d like to.”

  “The lighting in this room is dim,” Sylvan said. “Outside in the hall it’s much brighter.”

  “Indeed?” Nodding to herself, Mistress Hellenix made her way out of the small room, apparently unconcerned that her bare breasts were still fully on display.

  The minute the door slid shut behind her, Sylvan turned to the big slave.

  “Listen to me, Brother,” he said urgently. “I’m going to get you out of here. I’ll make an offer to buy you from Mistress Hellenix. If she refuses the offer, I’ll find another way. I—”

  “Save it,” the Volt Kindred snapped, cutting him off. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “What?” Sylvan couldn’t have been more shocked if the massive warrior had suddenly turned into a bird and flown away. “Why not?” he demanded.

  “I have my reasons,” Malik growled. “Think I let myself be captured by accident? Think I stay with her for the fun of it?” He jerked his head at the doorway, indicating his Mistress, still out in the hall. “Not Goddess-damned likely.”

  “What reasons?” Sylvan demanded. “Do you enjoy this kind of treatment?”

  The silver eyes flashed and sparked. For a moment, it seemed that jagged forks of lightening were about to break free of their silvery surface.

  “Fuck, no I don’t enjoy it!” Malik snarled. “It’s fucking sick the perverted things she does to me!” He nodded down to the wire mesh cage locked around his shaft. “You think I enjoy this shit? Seven Hells, no! But it’s necessary to—”

  “Yes, they’re genuine.” Mistress Hellenix came strolling back in, her full breasts still completely exposed. “Oh, Malik,” she cooed, looking down at the huge warrior still kneeling on the carpet. “I forgot all about you—are you still in pain?”

  “My pain will endure as long as my Mistress wills it,” the Volt Kindred answered stoically.

  “Poor baby!” She stood in front of him and pressed her breasts into his face. “Go on—take the sweet to put out the fire,” she urged.

  With a low groan of relief, Malik leaned forward and sucked the nipple with the blue and white dust on it. At once the sweat standing out on his brow began to dry and after a moment, he started to shiver and his lips turned positively blue.

  “Oh dear…” Mistress Hellenix gave a mischievous giggle. “Did I mix too much ice dust into the sweet powder again? You’d better stop, Mal, before your tongue becomes an ice cube.”

  Malik pulled back again and again his face was completely impassive—except for that tiny spark of hatred far back in his silver eyes.