FreedomofThree (4 page)

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Authors: Liberty Stafford

Tags: #Erotica

BOOK: FreedomofThree
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Chapter Five

First Contact

 

 

Back at the palace, Queen Uno sat behind her computer. An aide had arranged an online conversation with the owner of Star Fighters, Hudson Brody, a tall, dark haired, no nonsense guy. For the first time, the queen partook of something computerised, which she loyally despised, usually leaving such matters to her administrators. However, this matter was purely personal and she desired to take an active role in every aspect of both redeeming her daughter’s reputation and satisfying her own spiteful pride. A strong, resonant voice from the other speaker reassured Uno that she was in communication with an effective ally, someone who, like her, got straight down to business, was single-minded in their purpose and direct in what they said, no matter who it upset. Uno was only right about a couple of those things. Hudson Brody did bother about who his words upset. Sometimes, because he cared, more often, because he knew dissatisfied hunters did not do their jobs well. His words could often mean good. Hers, rarely did.

With his shoulder length black hair falling onto a pair of massively broad shoulders and coal black eyes looking directly out of the screen at her, Uno came to believe she had picked the right company for the job and this allayed her initial concerns.

“Good morning, madam. I am Hudson Brody. I understand you have a mission for Star Fighters?”

“That is correct. Two, actually,” she added maliciously. “Before we proceed further, I must insist that you call me Your Majesty when addressing me. I would have thought my aides had made that perfectly clear.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” Brody replied. “How can we be of service?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

Separate Ways

 

 

A little later that evening, Devon had another visitor to his room. While the cruiser was in the queue to land at their next destination, the planet Jendo, always busy because of the tourists heading to the paradise destination of Kirslar, Hans decided he must speak with their guest about his plans.

“How’re you feeling now? That shoulder any better?” Hans asked gruffly.

Devon rolled his elbow joint. “Fine thanks, much better, just promise not to manhandle me again.”

“Listen, pal, we’re entering Kirslar airspace. Any clue where you want the ship to set down?”

“Where are you two going?”

“Doesn’t matter. There’s no way you can come with us. No offence, but you don’t strike me as the freedom fighter type. We’ve got our system to protect. The Ratt Pirates are taking over and they will take total control unless somebody stops them. You’re more of a lover than a fighter, I would say.”

“True. That’s what I was bred for, I suppose.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Brandy was just explaining. Sounds rough. I always figured having two penises would be a good thing. So, any thoughts on where you want us to drop you?”

“I don’t know your planet, I’m afraid. Where would you suggest?” Devon asked, a little disappointed that Brandana had not come to ask him this question, feeling like left luggage.

“Definitely not Lo-Sar, war torn, full of angry shape shifters. Not Arch Gate, unless you like farming and Ratt Pirate. For you, I would suggest our home town, Kirslar. It’s beautiful, man. A real paradise. A guy like you would soon get a job, I reckon, and fit in no problem. You can rest easy there, knowing me and Brandy are keeping the pirates at bay.”

“Didn’t you say it was bombarded by sex clubs there?”

“Yeah, that’s why most of the locals went away, but for someone who doesn’t know any different, no offence, I think it’s a real safe bet. Warm, friendly, full of people who don’t ask questions.”

Devon shrugged. “I suppose so. It sounds alright.”

“Spot on,” Hans beamed. “I’ll tell the powers that be.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

A Night In The Caves

 

 

It came as a stinging surprise to Devon that Brandana was not there to wave goodbye as they landed on Jendo and headed for Kirslar. Hans was pleasant enough but was no substitute. However, Devon could partly understand her reasons for staying away. She had finally returned back to her fold, her family and her roots and she fully intended to protect them all against a common enemy. Such thoughts of finally being free to fight for her family and culture once more had kept her going through her barren years in the palace at Irella. An ideology that prevented her from admitting the bond they had created yesterday although it was a strong one. Nevertheless, Brandana valued her independence and it seemed their love was not to be. Devon departed, dropped off in the outskirts of Kirslar with no bags or belongings, just some ill- fitting local clothes borrowed from various plunderings which Hans had gathered over time.

 

Hans had landed precariously between two large mountains and pointed out what he promised was the entrance to a cave where Devon would be greeted by friends. In no position to argue, Devon cowered from the back draft as the cruiser took off and left him alone. He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans which were a couple of sizes too big, held to his waist by an old yellow belt, and a creased, candy striped shirt. Hans had laughed heartily when Devon had asked for an iron.

Even in the Kirslar mountains the weather was warm and Devon buttoned his shirt down a couple of notches. He looked around. Hans was right, it was beautiful there. Purple mountains disappeared into bands of soft white cloud above and below they melted into a carpet of long, lush green grass sprinkled with tiny alpine flowers. In the distance, he could see a body of water, the Gowan Sea, and a thick peppering of glossy white hotel buildings.

Since Hans had not lied to him thus far, Devon approached the mouth of the cave which had been pointed out. As he got closer, he heard the click of a bevy of rifles and saw they were all trained upon his person. He put up his hands, not sure if that was the right thing to do, but he had seen a couple of movies. Several men with long, straggly hair and unkempt beards ordered him inside and prodded him with their weapons. Inside the cave, it was much cooler and something dripped on him from a stalactite. Devon had hoped to be spending the night somewhere warm, preferably with a Jacuzzi, but decided he was probably not going to get it that night at least.

However, after squeezing through a maze of dank, awkward, rocky passages, the space opened up and things improved. Torches made from bulrushes crackled welcomingly and more people crowded round, making way for the entrance of an extremely tall, blond, tremendously handsome male with piercing blue eyes which practically lit up the cave.

Devon put forward his hand. “My name is Devon. I’ve been sent by Hans and Brandana. They said you were a friend.”

The attractive man studied Devon for a moment before returning the handshake with his warm grasp. “Dylan Thorn. Good to meet you. What do you want here in Kirslar?”

“A new life would do pretty nicely.”

“Elucidate,” Thorn wanted a quick explanation.

“I escaped from Irella with Brandana. Now her and Hans have gone off to somewhere on Jendo in a cruiser he took from a Ratt Pirate to continue their crusade. He said I would be better off somewhere else.”

Thorn began to laugh “Sounds perfectly feasible knowing their history. Well, Devon, let us break some bread together and we can be friends. Follow me.”

Devon followed Thorn into another cave where a long stone table carved upwards from the floor was set for a feast. About twenty people sat around it on cushions fashioned from scraps of hide, roughly stitched and stuffed with springy, dried grass and soft feathers. Upon the table were two spit roasted antelope, now laid low upon the stone, from which the diners cut or pulled their portions by eager hands. Several red hot stone platters cooked fish upon them, fish with fearsome looks, needle sharp teeth and dead eyes. Char-grilled vegetables were loaded into stone containers, blackened where they had sat upon the hot coals. Plates, bowls and cutlery, roughly hewn from wood, were available to use all around the table, creating a friendly atmosphere of sharing.

 

* * * *

 

Dylan Thorn’s entrance caused a respectful hush but he was a modest man and simply smiled, offering Devon a cushion next to him. As he ripped off slices of succulent, pink antelope meat, he could not help but examine Devon. For many years, he had been straight, excepting a one off night at a post school party, but the new stranger was awakening long suppressed feelings. He could not help but imagine feeding the meat to Devon, pushing it into his mouth past his pretty lips the way he would like to slide his own intimate parts in there.

 

“Meat?” Thorn asked and put a few slices gently onto Devon’s plate. “Help yourself to anything else. So, Devon, how are Hans and Brandana? I haven’t seen them for a while, especially Brandana of course. It’s good to know she’s back around.”

“Well. They are good. I haven’t known them for long at all really but they both saved my life.”

“You escaped from Irella, you say. I knew that was where Brandana had been sent . Hans visited not long ago, on his way to get her back. She was some sort of maid, right?”

“Yes, in the royal household.”

“Very fancy.”

“Not really.” Devon sighed, chewing on a red slice of roasted pepper. “Life there was unbearable. Queen Uno is a real bitch. At least I didn’t have to put up with her all the time like Brandana did.”

Curiously, Thorn asked, “So what did you do there?”

Devon blushed. “I was farmed, like a chicken in a coop, to be a husband for one of the royal daughters.”

“Really?” Thorn almost laughed. “Sounds like a pretty fantastic job. Didn’t you fancy it, or her?”

“I didn’t know her so I wasn’t going to marry her. They took me over to the palace to begin the initiation ceremonies but, well, I wouldn’t take part.”

“Good for you, man.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Devon became agitated. “To do something like that, against that evil family, against time honoured Irellan tradition, was the moment I signed my own death warrant. It’s there somewhere, written in stone, in the old Irellan documentation in the City Hall, that bipenes like me do as they are told. We have no life.”

“Bipene?” Thorn questioned. “What’s that?”

Devon sighed as the night increased in embarrassment for him. Not a good time for him to be biting into a carrot. “I have two penises.”

“Amazing,” Thorn cooed, genuinely impressed and more than a little turned on. “I would love that. You can’t tell, you know, first off, just by looking.”

“No, the other is at the back.”

“Really? Where?”

Devon was quite enjoying his new found celebrity. “Just below the small of my back.”

“And do you get two pairs of balls as well?”

“No, that’s all interconnected.”

Suddenly the two men were unexpectedly close. Thorn leaned in to see if he could get a closer look at Devon’s back as Devon leaned over to grab a slice of aubergine. Heat imploded between them. Both of them felt a rise, Devon felt two, but they were in a public area and Thorn was straight, so far as general opinion went.

“Now tell me about you.” Devon wisely broke the spell. “I didn’t get a chance to ask the others. What exactly do you do here?”

“This is freedom central, baby. These tunnels and caves are where it’s all at, right beneath those Ratt Pirate’s stupid faces. One day, we’ll take it all back. We’ll get rid of the sex trade and all the shit that goes with it. I want to make Kirslar beautiful again.”

“If I can do anything to help, I’ll certainly try,” Devon offered.

“Like Hans said, I think you’re better off elsewhere. It’s not always like this, feasting and relaxing, you know. Most of the time we’re busy working, fighting, spying, it’s very dangerous. Soon these caves will be damp when the rains come. Anyway, I like you, Devon, so let me ask you the question, how can I help you? You’re welcome to stop the night, you’re welcome to stop indefinitely actually, but I think tomorrow we should get you established somewhere. A new life. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good actually,” Devon agreed, knowing in his heart that he was not ready for the life of a freedom fighter, no matter how sexy his colleagues might be.

“So what can you do?” Thorn asked. “What are you trained for?”

“Giving pleasure,” Devon huffed in the realisation that his pampered yet useless life had left him ineffectual for existence outside the compound or the regal palace of Irella.

“Explain.” Thorn frowned, the presence of this strange new man causing him increasing discomfort and alarm.

“Well, I know how to get a good all over tan. I know how to give massages of all types; full body, Swedish, Indian head, Venus foot.”

“I think I have the perfect idea. You’ll fit right in,” Thorn answered with a twinkle in his eye.

 

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