least nine feet long and twice as wide, laden with a multitude of colorful and unusual looking pillows. Banners of colored fabric streamed down casually from the ceiling, wrapping softly around the frame in various places.
Besides the bed there were long, cushioned sofas, lounges, and chairs all arranged in a cozy conversation corner. A pair of cushioned tables were set up a short distance from there, and behind them was a bathing area with a very large oval tub set down into the stone of the floor with steps leading into it. Otherwise, a few paintings and rugs were the only additions to the delicate moss green stone that lined both the walls and the floor of the entire room. The ceiling was a mosaic of a million small tiles placed perfectly together to create a swirling, graceful design that seemed to meander aimlessly and have absolute purpose all at the same time.
It was a room of wealth and comfort, something that translated no matter what culture or planet he was going to find himself in. It stood to reason that he had just become the latest toy in someone’s personal playroom. Someone who could afford to buy rare and expensive flesh. And considering the time it had taken for him to travel to this destination, he’d be safe in assuming he was a rare creature indeed to these people.
Vejhon looked down at his own body, grimacing at his nudity. He was far from surprised. Slaves, he had been told, were not allowed clothing until their master bought some for them. Since he had no master as yet, he would remain nude. It was meant to be devaluing, he supposed, but it didn’t quite work that way for him. He’d worn better and he’d worn worse than his own skin before, and he had no problem at all with being naked. What he did have a problem with was this interminable confinement. He was lashed so securely to the wall, spread-eagle and perfectly flush to it, that he had no range of motion except with his head. His muscles and joints were stiff and more than a little sore, but he was also pleased to see that the impulse programs in the stasis fields had been put to use, keeping him at close to his usual bulk in muscle. Still, it was a lazy reward and did nothing to keep his flexibility and reflexes in practice.
He quickly grew bored and started looking around the room again, searching for advantages in the details. This time he took better note of the immediate area around himself. There was a closet of some kind. And a strange stand shaped from metal that bore many heavy hooks. Odd devices of all shapes and sizes hung from these hooks. Some were made of metal, others of some kind of hide. Still others were studded with valuable gemstones and glittered under the recessed lighting that ran along all the edges of the room. Just looking at the strange paraphernalia made his entire body go tense, his imagination filling in the blanks with dread and disgust.
It was easy to surmise what he had been bought for. All he had to do was look at the bed. A gripping anger clutched at his chest as though it would suffocate him. It would be bad enough if some female alien came strutting in there thinking she was going to own him and tame him, but he could think of a worse option yet. If he’d been bought by a male of some species with homosexual tendencies, Vejhon would either be free or dead by nightfall. Perhaps so in both scenarios. But if a male thought to touch him, to make use of him in such a way, blood would fly before Vejhon would ever allow it.
His keen hearing picked up the approach of footsteps from somewhere outside of the room, but it wasn’t until then that he realized that while there were many windows, there were no obvious doors. Even the closet was more of a wardrobe, a large piece of furniture exclusive of the walls around it. But the footsteps gave him an idea of which direction to pay attention to. He tensed tighter and tighter, every muscle in his body winding up in preparation for…anything.
When the wall to his left gave off a soft pneumatic hiss, drew back an inch, and then slid open about four feet to the right, it revealed something a little different than he had been expecting, but no less contemptible.
A couple. One a male, a large fair-haired man built like a soldier…built like Vejhon himself. His skin was a smooth tan, dark enough to indicate a great deal of time spent out-of-doors, the tone just uneven enough to show that it wasn’t a racial coloration. His stride was confident, his eyes immediately fixing on Vejhon in watch of whatever potential threat he might pose. It was a look Vejhon was quite familiar with, having trained it into soldier after soldier over time. He couldn’t help but be a little impressed by that wariness. After all, here he was tethered hand and foot to a stone wall, naked and weaponless, where most people would dismiss him as non-threatening. But he could see quite clearly that this other warrior was taking nothing for granted and he wasn’t about to trust his captive in the slightest.
As for the woman…
She closed the door with a brisk wave of a hand over a hidden sensor and crossed over to him without any hesitation or fear. She made a subtle gesture and her giant companion stopped where he was, taking a watchful stance as she moved to stand before Vejhon at a minimum of arm’s length. Had his hands been free, he could have reached out and grabbed her around her delicate little neck.
After months of having strangers assess his flesh in a careless and dismissive manner, it was actually very noticeable a difference when he realized she looked nowhere but into his eyes. She was just a few inches shy of about six feet tall, he guessed, but since he was nearly seven feet tall himself it still made her seem small to him. She wore an arresting crimson-colored gown that was very close to being sheer as it clung to a noticeably generous shape. She was slender without being too slim, the fabric of her dress swaddling round hips and ass, and high, proud breasts that would easily fill a large man’s hands.
Perhaps he assessed her body first because of a subconscious need to bring her down to his level of exposure, but it didn’t take him long to become intrigued by the other things about her that were so markedly different. First, there was the long cord of her hair. It came over her shoulder and was banded with gemmed clasps once every six inches or so for nearly the entire length of her height. It was also the most amazingly pure black he had ever seen. Like a sleek Surrey eel, it caught light and gleamed, equal to the adornments that confined its length. The women of Vejhon’s homeworld, just like the men, were all fair. Blond to white, at most red to the lightest of browns. He had never seen a woman with black hair before.
Nor had he ever seen one with skin the color of the noonday sky. Her coloring was shades of sky and powder blue, a fascinating fairness of an entirely different sort. Her complexion was flawless, even luminescent if he had to give a descriptor, but it was most definitely blue. Soft, delicate shades that only darkened around the edges of her clothing, leading him to think her racial coloring deepened as it flowed over her breasts and other private areas. Her lips were dark, a mix between a deep violet and a midnight red, and he suspected a match to the large, dark nipples tipping her breasts, which he could see against the fabric of her dress.
Her eyes, which had never once moved from his as he had made his assessment of her, were dark and sultry, a blend between midnight blue and black. They were like the night sky on his homeworld. They were set in the face of a beautiful woman, framed by thick, boot-black lashes and delicate arching brows. Her cheekbones were an elegant, aristocratic sweep beneath otherwise soft curves of a lush and pretty face. She looked young, and had he been another type of man he might have believed her air of innocence, but he had lived through too much war to ever assume anyone was capable of innocence.
He flicked one more assessing glance over to the male standing guard behind her. The two were clearly not of the same race, probably not even similar species. Not that such couplings were unusual, what with space open to anyone and everyone who could afford to travel it, but it wasn’t lost on him that the other male could easily have come from his own homeworld.
Vejhon had too many questions and despised being in a position that afforded him little leverage in demanding answers. The realization was burning furiously in his eyes as he crashed gazes with the woman he could only assume considered herself his owner. The very idea made his hands curl into defiant fists, instigating a step forward from her wary and watchful bodyguard behind her. Again, a single soft gesture
