Chapter 51
“Look, let’s just have the conversation, Brad. It’s done. It was fun while it lasted, but we’re done now.”
“Anne,” he said. Her name tasted strange in his mouth. He’d never said it, not here in this house, not while he wore her collar around his throat. In fact, he never even said it at work; she was ma’amthere, or Ms. Dunford, if he had to speak to her at all, and they rarely needed to. That was safe. That was what he was used to. He didn’t know who Annewas. He wondered if she knew who Bradleywas. “What did I do wrong? I don’t want to make excuses, but you know I’ve never been…at one of these balls before. If I did something, said something I shouldn’t have, looked somewhere I shouldn’t have. Please just tell me. You don’t have to send me away. I…” Did he want to say this? Should he? Fuck. He would say it. If she truly meant to send him away, there was nothing left to lose. “I love you, mistress. I don’t…wantto leave.”
She snorted, a hint of the dominatrix in her eyes again. “Since when have yourwants meant aught?”
He took her hand, kissed cold fingers. “They don’t, but we’re having this conversation, so damnitall, we might as well have it. I don’t know who you’re referring to. I don’t want anyone else. I’ve not so much as looked at a another woman since you claimed me, and I don’t intend to do any more, or I swear to God, any lessthan you ask of me. I beg you, tell me what I did wrong. I’ll take any punishment. Everything, anything you wish.”
Her mouth, that perfect, luscious mouth, quirked up in a sneer. He knew it well, the fierce baring of her teeth, the glitter of the diamond chip set on one brilliant white incisor. Her lipstick, smeared as it was, was still red as apples, glistening.
“Everything?” Her breathing quickened, the tips of her breasts just barely visible under the taut leather of her corset.
“For this night,” he swore, “I surrender my safeword to your keeping, Mistress. Anything you wish of me. If I displease you, if you wish none of me, I’ll leave in the morning, without a word. Just let me please you, mistress. Please.” Anne’s face twisted, jealousy and defeat in her eyes, but the curl of her lip made him think she was considering it. He slid to the floor, the carpet plush and inviting below his knees, and he pressed his forehead to her thighs, hands open and relaxed.
He shivered. Would she take it up? He’d used his safeword—gladiola—many times before. She’d encouraged him to do so, and he never quite felt like she’d pushed him far enough. That she didn’t trust him to know his own limits, or that she didn’t trust herself. He was never certain, but she’d always been sweet with him, after. Rewarding his good behavior in using the safeword, and sometimes those rewards themselves had led to him wanting to use it. Had he not given over as much to her as he could? He would argue that he never had; there was a part of him, deep inside, that wanted to give more, wanted to take more, and was terrified of his own lack of limits. Of his own darkest, deepest, more base desires.
She touched his shoulder, her fingernails dragging lightly over his flesh. “Go, then, into the bedroom. I’ll attend you momentarily, slave.”Fair Deal by Elizabeth L. Brooks
Dariel was playing the violin again. The notes shivered through the thin air and lodged in Arved’s spine until he wanted to scream. He gritted his teeth until the song was done, and then sighed in relief. Now, maybe—
Dariel started a new song. Something with a lot of high-pitched, wobbly notes that made Arved’s ears want to scrunch up and pull inward, like testicles in a cold shower. He couldn’t take it any longer, he just couldn’t. He stamped into the break room. “By all that’s holy, will you please just stop?”
The noise ceased as Dariel stared at him, bow still poised over the strings, eyes comically wide and dismayed. Relief and guilt washed over Arved in equal measure. “I’m just…It’s just so…It sets my teeth on edge.”
“But…But Mik has a guitar, and you like that,” Dariel sputtered.
Arved shrugged. “Only sometimes. And the sound doesn’t have that…” No musician, he struggled for the words. “…kind of a hiss? From the bow. Makes all my hair stand on end.”
“Oh. So this—” Dariel plucked a string with a fingertip, “—doesn’t bother you?”
“Not as much. I really don’t like music that much anyway. I like quiet.”
“I’m sorry.” Dariel laid the violin carefully in its case and looked back up at him. “Tell you what: if you’ll take my walkabout shifts, I’ll hold off practicing until you’re outside. Fair?”
More than fair; Arved loved walkabout shifts like no one else anyway, and he knew Dariel hated them. He sagged slightly as relief won out and grinned. “Fair, and deal. Why’d you bring a violin to a spacestation, anyway? I mean, Mik’s guitar’s nothing special, wouldn’t cost more than a couple hundred to replace it if it got smashed. But aren’t violins a little more expensive?”
“By about an order of magnitude, yeah. But this isn’t my goodone; she’s back home. The acoustics here are pretty lousy anyway. Though the low humidity makes for a nice, crisp sound fresh out of the box.”
“Then why?”
Dariel shrugged. “Just something to do in my off-shift, really. My other hobbies, back home, are gardening and pottery. I mess around in the hydroponics section sometimes, but I don’t think Kalen likes me too much. And enough clay to be useful would have reallyexceeded my weight allotment.”
Arved chuckled appreciatively. “If Kalen even lets you inthe hydroponics pod, she likes you, trust me.” Without the violin’s screeching to put his back up, Arved was beginning to notice Dariel’s fine profile, and the pure, snapping black of Dariel’s eyes. “Ah…Well, myhobby is cooking. How about I make dinner for us, sometime, and we can figure out something else to do with your off-shifts?”
Dariel’s eyes sparked with amusement—and maybe something more. “Fair deal.”Go Down with the Ship by Lynn Townsend
Captain Galton waited, still seated at the helm, fingers templed together in front of his chest, eyes staring blankly out at the sea of stars. The circulating fan spun noisily, using the last of his emergency power to keep the CO2 scrubbers running. He didn’t turn when he heard Dain’s boot heels against the steel quarterdeck.