Bridging the Distance Read online

  “Of course they do.” Lorelei stroked his hair some more, enjoying the forbidden intimacy in a way she knew was wrong—yet somehow she didn’t want to stop. “Bound, do you think—” she began but just then a voice from the front of the shuttle broke in.

  “Unnamed space craft, please state your business.”

  Bound pulled away from her reluctantly and stood up quickly. His demeanor was suddenly all business.

  “We must have been spotted by Femalian Space Border Control. Come, my Lady—you’ll have to speak to them.”

  “Me?” Lorelei frowned as she pulled her stretchy black mesh tank-top back into place. “Why me?”

  “Because, males are not taught to pilot ships or drive any kind of vehicle on Femalah,” Bound explained. “You must speak to them and pretend you are the one piloting. Otherwise they will suspect our deception at once.”

  “All right—coming.” Lorelei hurried after the big Kindred but she couldn’t help feeling the slight weight of the golden charms dangling from her nipples and thinking how good it had felt to have Bound’s mouth on her there. Not to mention wondering what it would be like to have him and his twin sucking her breasts at the same time.

  Chapter Seven

  “Welcome to the Fren and Chulk, Gentlewoman Daniels and slave-mate.” A tall woman in a severely cut slate blue suit and black top hat bowed to them as they walked through the elaborately carved wooden doors that fronted the club. She was wearing a see-through shirt, much like Lorelei’s, but her nipple rings were silver and the charms hanging from them were simple silver balls. “We are so happy you are making it to our sale tonight. And of course you’ll be joining us for to dine before it begins?”

  “For to dine? Oh yes—to dine. Yes, of course.” Lorelei nodded. She had been given a shot of translation bacteria before leaving the Mother Ship, which enabled her to understand the words of the alien tongue, but the grammar structure of the Femalians still seemed rather strange.

  “Thank you. You and your slave-mate must be following me,” the woman said. “So I am understanding you are from the Haska region?” she said as they followed, Lorelei walking right beside her and Bound two steps behind, as was the protocol for males here.

  “Yes, that’s right.” Lorelei nodded. Haska was a remote region on the other side of Femalah. Saying they came from a place so far distant gave them a little leeway to explain any mistakes or social gaffes they might make—or that was the hope, anyway, Lorelei thought grimly.

  “It is being beautiful, or so I am told,” the tall woman said. “Before I am seating you, would you like to be counted as one worthy to be seated with the Countess?”

  “The…Countess?” Lorelei frowned in confusion.

  “The Countess du’Montrive—she from whom you have been accepting the invitation for to attend our sale.” The tall woman frowned, as though it was a terrible faux-pas for Lorelei not to know the hostess’s name.

  “Oh of course, that Countess,” Lorelei said quickly. “I, uh, thought you were talking about a different Countess. Yes, of course my, uh, slave-mate and I would love to be seated with Countess du’Montrive.”

  “Very well—then you had best to be lining up along the wall and preparing for to present your slave-mate.”

  “Uh, present my slave-mate? How and why?” Lorelei asked. “We don’t, um, have that custom in Haska,” she added quickly, hoping to avoid further censure.

  “Why to see if you are worthy and your status is high,” the woman exclaimed with a look of incredulous scorn. “The gentlewoman with the best slave-mate wins the right to sit at the Countess’s table. How can you not be having this custom?”

  “I don’t know,” Lorelei said apologetically. “We just, uh, don’t be having it—that’s all. Where should we stand?”

  “There.” The tall woman pointed to a far wall paneled in dark wood where at least three other couples were standing. “The Countess will be coming out soon. See to it that your slave-mate is being ready for inspection.”

  Then she stalked haughtily away, leaving Lorelei and Bound to stare after her uncertainly.

  “Well…” Lorelei sighed. “I, uh, guess we’d better go over and get in line. I wish I hadn’t told her we’d like to sit with the Countess!”

  “But think if we get chosen,” Bound murmured under his breath as he followed her across the long hall toward the far wall. “Surely the Countess has control over the sale. If she’s pleased with us, we have a better chance of getting to Torn.”

  “Good point,” Lorelei whispered back, looking over her shoulder. “I just have no idea how I’m supposed to, uh, present you.”

  “Stand at the end of the line,” Bound suggested. “Watch when the Countess comes out and do as the others do.”

  “Good idea.” They had come to the far wall now and she saw that the other women in line were dressed as she was, though some had on even more colorful costumes that she did. All of them wore the nipple rings as signs of status, and all of them were gold. They had various charms dangling from the rings but it was impossible for Lorelei to tell if they were supposed to be better or worse than her own.

  The slave-mates by the other women’s sides were all tall and muscular, though none quite as eye-catching as Bound. She caught the envious glances the other gentlewomen cast at him and wondered if having a big husband or slave-mate was a status symbol here.

  Kind of like a man having a trophy wife back home on Earth, she thought. Maybe it would be enough to just have Bound turn around in a circle and show himself off when the Countess came. He was clearly the biggest and handsomest man in the room—it should be a clear cut case and they would be sitting with the Countess in no time. Lorelei would be charming and persuasive (she hoped) and they would buy Torn and have him back to the shuttle before you could say—

  “Goddess, she must be coming soon,” Bound breathed in her ear. “My Lady, I think we could be in for more than we bargained for.”

  “What do you m—” But the words died on Lorelei’s lips. As if reacting to some silent signal only they could hear, every single one of the other gentlewomen had reached under the leather kilts of their companions. And each of them was vigorously stroking her slave-mate’s shaft.

  Suddenly Lorelei had more of an idea of what showing Bound off would entail.

  “Crap,” she muttered. “I thought you said they were like Victorian England here? There’s no way that a man would treat a lady like this at that time!”

  “I think maybe it would be different if this was more of a society function and I was meant to be your legitimate husband,” Bound murmured back. “This is a gentlewomen’s club which is where females bring the males they want to show off—a slave-mate is kind of a cross between a concubine and a whore.”

  “Ouch,” Lorelei muttered. “What are we supposed to do now?”

  “Well…” Bound shrugged. “I suppose what everyone else is doing.”

  “But…but…” Lorelei looked up at him. “You…you don’t mind?”

  “I will bear any indignity to get my brother back,” he said grimly, then his features softened somewhat. “Besides, My Lady, having your hands on me is not exactly a fate worse than death. In fact…” His voice dropped even lower. “I have been longing to feel you touch me for some time.”

  Lorelei felt her heart skip a beat.

  “Well, if you really don’t mind…”

  “I am yours, My Lady.” Bound put his arms behind his back and parted his legs for her, standing straight in the same posture the other slave-mates had adopted while their gentlewomen stroked them. “Do with me as you please.”

  “All right.” It felt incredibly strange to be doing something like this in public but somehow it gave Lorelei a naughty little thrill too. Almost from the first moment she’d met him, she had been wondering exactly how big Bound was in the cock department. All Kindred had the reputation of being huge between the legs and a naughty little part of her couldn’t help wishing she could find out first h