FreedomofThree

Blessed with a double manhood, Devon has been bred to give the Irellan princess a lifetime of ecstasy but he will not be tamed.  Escaping seems like a safe bet until the maid who abets his getaway gives him more than he bargained for, in more ways than one.  Her own scores to settle, Devon finds himself plunged into the middle of a war he never even knew about.  Queen Uno sends a beautiful but dangerous bounty hunter to bring back her birthright but Devon has tasted a freedom he is unwilling to relinquish.

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Freedom of Three

Copyright © 2010
Liberty Stafford

ISBN:
978-1-55487-621-1

Cover art by Angela Waters

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

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Freedom of Three

Star Fighters Book 3

By

Liberty Stafford

Chapter One

Irellan Royalty

“Yes, your majesty,” agreed the pretty girl with the long, white, waist length hair as she bowed and backed out of the room with her orders. What the queen did not notice was that she muttered treasonously under her breath as she departed.

Queen Uno, formidable matriarch of Irella, fifth planet in the Tirus system, swished away from the tall window overlooking her glorious city of Irel. A heavy gold, damask robe trailed behind her, the stiff Elizabethan collar enhancing her air of ferocity. Her dark brown hair was coiffed in traditional Irellan style; swept up into a triangular structure, held securely by a net made of golden fibres and diamond tipped gold pins. Her brow, marked with the Irellan red star denoting royal blood, was furrowed as usual. Her clear skin, a shade of deep gold, glowed with an inner fire. Calmly, her husband sat in a generously cushioned armchair, twitching the pages of his newspaper, pulling distractedly at his tight golden curls.

“That waiting girl,” Uno remarked poisonously in well rounded tones, “I swear is becoming more useless as the days drag on.”

The King peered over the top of his page. “What girl?”

“That girl!” she replied in an irritated tone. “That servant! What’s her name? With the white hair. Brandana, or some other common, peasant name. Whatever possessed us to employ her?”

“I believe you employed her, dear.”

“Well of course I did. You do precious little enough to assist. And when you do, it’s usually wrong.”

“That’s why I try not to get involved,” the King answered sheepishly.

Uno arched her thin brows into dull rainbows. “You are trying my patience. I am not in the mood.”

His impudent outburst was mostly ignored by his queen for she had more pressing matters to attend to. Their youngest daughter was about to come of age and she was busily attending to the hectic logistics of marriage arrangements.

In Irella, royal marriages were strictly arranged for in Irella, a certain type of man existed. A very special type of man existing nowhere else in the galaxy who had spent his entire life being groomed to become partner for life to the queens. A man chosen for the intense coital pleasure he could give. Sexual pleasure. Not the pleasure of conversation or shared interest. He would exist Thornely to gratify his queen. Such men are known as bipenes and have two penises; one in the usual position and another at the base of his spine. Irellan training ensures these remarkable men become great lovers and tales of their sexual prowess is legendary.

Whenever such a child is born, the hospital is duty bound to immediately inform the palace and a whole system steeped in tradition has its wheels put directly in motion. The boy and his mother are whisked away to the far reaches of the palace in Irel and live in a special compound until the next queen is ready to take a husband. The boy is pampered and trained in all the pleasurable arts. His mother is well looked after and returned to normal citizenship with a large purse as compensation once her son is married. Forbidden to leave the compound until this day, their life is a bittersweet concoction of heaven and hell. And the boy’s father? Forgotten.

Irella has long honoured its matriarchal system of monarchy. Females are revered as life givers, goddesses, and it is they who determine all rules and boundaries.

Queen Uno was a strong if not slightly despotic ruler and was most esteemed for driving down the elevated cost of water on her planet. Highly significant as there was no rainfall on Irella to speak of and therefore its citizens have to buy in the precious liquid silver from neighbouring systems. A costly business, prone to pirating, but none have dared cross Uno yet such is her fearsome reputation and water, whilst expensive, is now affordable under her control.

To venture outside, Irellans need to wear a reflective garment to fend off the brutal rays of sun which ferociously attack their planet with a cruel consistency. Slowly, the white haired servant girl, Brandana, tall with extraordinary lilac eyes, entered Uno’s sun-filled dressing room bearing a thin, transparent cloak draped over her slender arms. Queen Uno allowed the servant to dress her and, once outside, to hold her train above her own head to shield her from the sun as they crossed the green lawn and rose- trimmed pathway to the courtesan compound. Uno was, for the first time, to interview her daughter’s prospective partner. Uno had only heard favourable reports of the young man’s handsome features. His teachers in the boudoir arts, voiceless beauties who rely on nothing other than touch, had also nothing but praise for his delicacy and creativity. Uno was intrigued.

Decorated with a retro Japanese influence, the compound was designed to create a peaceful ambient setting in order for the bipenes to grow into gentle individuals who would be able to soothe their queens in their moments of need, obediently attuned to their every whim after studying their psychological profiles and biochemistry for many years. The bipene compound was surrounded by a large bamboo fence, patrolled by armed guards at all times for it was not unknown for certain women, either sexually depraved, xxx or just plain curious, to endeavour to breach the inner sanctum for some double speared fun. Nobody had ever succeeded.

Each bipene family, usually around three groups in total at any one time, lived in their own dojo, a Japanese styled home with red ornate roofs atop platforms held aloft by statues of two stone dragons which symbolised the virility of their unusual male organs.

Whispering with the sound of delicate pines and ferns, with tranquil waterfalls bleeding over smooth, round pebbles past every dojo, the air laden with sensuous jasmine blossom, the compound appeared peaceful enough at first glance. However, the peace was often shattered in the particular home Queen Uno was about to visit as this particular bipene was different from all the rest. He was not obedient, not blond and tightly curled. He had grown rebellious, with dark, loosely waving hair, with a larger, more muscular build and a stubborn, square jaw.

Outside the dojo, Queen Uno signalled for Brandana to announce their arrival. Brandana opened the door unannounced, as was the royal privilege, and they were greeted by a timid woman in her late forties with greying hair pulled into an untidy triangle. Her face was kind and her manner welcoming. She curtseyed deeply.

“Your majesty, please, come into our humble abode.”

“Of course.” Uno looked down her thin nose and stepped inside. “Where is the boy?”

“Oh, he’s in his room,” the meek woman replied nervously. “We weren’t expecting you. I’m afraid we’re having a bit of trouble.”

“Oh?” the queen mused. “What sort of trouble?”

“Well, I, he…”

“Out with it, woman.”

“I’m ever so sorry, your majesty, but he does not want to marry.”

Uno could not speak for a while. In turn, her face changed from red to purple to blue to white and her mouth got smaller and puckered until it almost disappeared from view.

“Your son, madam, must be aware of his choices?” Uno finally managed to gather a sentence from her screwed up face and spoke breathlessly. Brandana fanned her dramatically.

“Of course, majesty,” the mother looked at the floor, aware of the death penalty on the heads of such refusers. “I keep telling him, but he won’t listen. You know what young ones are like?”

“Nonsense,” snapped Uno, although any time her young ones had been difficult she had simply called in their nanny. “Children do as they are told, especially when decreed by their queen. This is treasonous! Fetch him before me.”

Before Queen Uno could demand more from him, the son showed his surly but strikingly handsome face from within his bedroom retreat. He was beautiful with a tanned and taut complexion, a wide sumptuous mouth, strong nose, chiselled features and piercing blue eyes. Yet immediately Uno noticed that something was wrong.

“This cannot be him?” Uno asked. “His hair. It’s too dark. There has surely been some mistake. Another son, perhaps?”

“No, ma’am, this is he.”

“And he has the two…”

“Yes’m. Yes’m.”

It was true, Devon was unquestionably different from all other bipenes in Irellan history. He furrowed his dark, brooding brow disrespectfully towards his queen.

“Come closer,” Uno demanded.

Devon obeyed sulkily.

“This will not do at all. No matter, we can dye his hair.”

“I don’t want…”

“Devon, hush,” his mother quivered.

“Yes,” Uno continued, running her sharp fingers through his soft curls, “some bleach will cover this defect. And some curling tongs. Mother, you will see to this immediately.”

“Of course,” she bob curtseyed.

“So, boy, I hear that you will not marry. Tell me, is this true?”

Devon sighed haughtily. “Yes, it is true. What of it?”

“You are aware that refusal carries the penalty of death upon your pretty head?”

“I am well aware of that fact,” Devon answered bitterly.

“Some might say I am a cruel queen. That can be true, my job is often challenging. Yet, Devon, I think your answer is steeped in fear. A fear of a life very different to the one you have known until now. A fear perhaps that you will not feel any longer when presented with your wife to be. I can assure you, Tulia is a true beauty. I am surprised she has remained a virgin this long but, in vigilance, she has been kept intact for your union. At present, I will not condemn you. You will come to the palace tomorrow night and meet with my magnificent daughter whilst realising you are the luckiest man alive. Something tells me you will then change your mind about the marriage. If not, young man, beware. You stand to lose everything. So does your mother. How do you feel now about your choice?”

Devon was unmoved by her speech. “My choice? There is no choice for those like me. I have to do as others wish whether I want to or not. That is not having any choice at all.”

“What do you mean?” Uno felt ruffled by the precocious young male. “You have a life of luxury here in the palace grounds and want for nothing. Maybe you would prefer to spend your young life slaving away in the mines instead? Think hard, young man, before you dare suggest that your life is one of hardship.”

“For those of us born with two penises, not by our choice, but by some cruel twist of fate, we have a life spared of these so-called choices that you bandy about in this house devoid of all hope of freedom. Perhaps I would be better off in the mines after all. At least there I would be treated like a normal person with rights and feelings and desires of his own, all the things you seem to think I am not entitled to.”

“If you choose to view your life that way, so be it. You will only make things hard for yourself. Even so, we expect your company tomorrow night. Otherwise, mother, never expect his company again. Simple. Come, gather my train.”

With those final, deadly words, Queen Uno departed the humble dojo, her heavy musk rose perfume lingering spitefully in the air. Devon’s mother sucked in the fragrance as she fell to her knees, weeping.