Slave (4 page)

The cow-chimp went cheaply and the owner looked downright pissed. He should have kept it because the cow-chimp didn’t look very happy when he saw who had bought him—a big, furry creature who had a lot of baggage in tow, which, no doubt, the slave would now have to carry. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been quite so anxious to display his strength.
When my Zetithian male was led to the block at last, I noticed that, for the moment at least, his penis had quieted down considerably. He walked with his head lowered to avoid yanking on it, and I hoped he didn’t see me or get a whiff of me or whatever else it might have been that had triggered that amazing display of his manly attributes, or I just might lose him to another woman. I chuckled to myself thinking how odd that sounded— almost as though I considered him a lover whom I feared might be taken from me by a more beautiful competitor.

The auctioneer looked a little afraid to be standing so close to what was obviously a very dangerous specimen, but managed to contain his fear long enough to ask for the first bid.

The silence that followed was nothing short of deaf-ening. It appeared that I had been right about no one else wanting him, and the Cylopean
really
started wringing his hands, then!

“He is strong and willing to work!” the man exhorted desperately. “He is the best the market has to offer!”

The silence went on, broken only by scuffling sounds as beings of all kinds took a few steps backward. The Cylopean, in a sudden fit of rage jerked hard on the chain and his slave roared out in pain and anger. It reminded me of the sound that a Euclidian lion makes when its tail gets twisted. Really loud and really pissed! I’d obviously waited too long.

“Five credits!” I shouted, though I believe I could have whispered it and still have been heard quite clearly.

The Cylopean forgot his anger and began to sputter in protest. “Five credits? He is worth more than fifty!”
Which was about what I would have paid for him if the arrogant bastard had been willing to sell him before the auction. I wished I’d had the opportunity to smile evilly at him, but with the respirator on, my facial expressions were wasted. So I settled for a gesture which is also universal: I flipped him off.

“Sold!” the auctioneer shouted, obviously quite anxious to put as much distance between himself and the Zetithian slave as possible.

I stepped forward and laid the credits on the table.

“I’ll take that,” I said to the slave trader, indicating his remote as he and my slave stepped down from the block.

The money lay there taunting him, a mere fraction of what he might have made if he’d only been just a little less greedy. The auctioneer’s assistant took two of the credits and pushed the other three toward the Cylopean.

With a snarl, the bastard slammed the remote on the table and snatched up the credits, which disappeared instantly into his robes, but not before I heard another roar from the Zetithian slave. The remote obviously controlled the genital restraint which had tightened painfully in response to the inadvertent triggering of the device. Although, judging from the smirk on the Cylopean’s face, he’d probably done it purposefully, as a parting shot, if you will.

Fortunately, it only pulsed for a moment and didn’t remain engaged until it was released, for my slave relaxed after a second or two, though I could see the anger boiling within him. He wanted to kill that man so badly he could taste it. Deciding that I would test my control over my new slave right now, I took the chain
from the guard who had taken it from the Cylopean, lest he attempt to damage my purchase any further before handing him over.

I stared up into those dark eyes, now sparkling with hatred, and noted that they seemed to be the reverse of those of the average house cat, having a bright golden pupil and a black iris. His pupils seemed very cat-like, however, being glowing, vertical slits rather than the dark, round pupils of a human.

“Kill him, if you wish,” I said quietly. “No one will stop you.”

He was sorely tempted, I could tell, but, instead, gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. “Not worth killing,” he muttered.

“Good answer,” I said tersely, and I led my new slave out of the plaza.

Slave 221107.qxd 1/30/08 4:36 PM Page 29

IT OCCURRED TO ME, AFTER WE’D MADE OUR WAY A FEW

paces down the dusty, sun-baked street, that I was now parading a filthy, chained, and also very naked man through the town. Deciding that he’d probably appreciate some clothing at the very least, I stopped and glanced around for a shop. He might have been able to wear some of my tunics, of course, but I hadn’t brought one with me, never dreaming that any slave I bought might come without clothing of his own. Of course, the chains presented a problem, for his wrists were chained to his ankles and would have made it impossible to get a tunic and trousers onto him without first removing them.

I still held the remote in my hand and looked down to study it. The buttons on it were labeled, but in a language that I couldn’t decipher.

“Any idea how this thing works?” I asked him. “I suppose I should have asked that little scumbag for the owner’s manual, but at the time, I didn’t think of it.”

The Zetithian’s reply was simple and to the point.

“Do not press the star-shaped button.”

“Oh? And what does that one do?” I inquired.

“It tightens all of the cuffs.”

“Even the one around your neck?”

He nodded in reply.
“Gotcha!” I said with a quick nod. “Don’t touch the star button.” I took a deep breath and went on, “Seems simple enough! What else?”

“The knobs on the top increase the tightness of the restraints and the length of time that they remain tight.”

“Which way do you turn it?” I asked. “To release them, I mean.”

He shrugged. “I do not know.”

“Well, then how the hell am I ever gonna get all this stuff off of you?” I demanded. “I’m afraid I’ll kill you if I just start experimenting with it!”

Tilting his head to one side, he regarded me curiously.

“You plan to remove them?”

I stared at him with a blank expression. “Do you mean to tell me that he kept these restraints on you all the time?” No way could I go to Statzeel with a man wearing a restraint on his dick! The locals would
never
understand….

He shook his head. “Not all at once,” he replied. “But always one. Usually the one on the neck.”

“A remote choke collar!” I said in a horrified whisper.

The sort of thing you’d use on a dog—a really nasty dog, too. I shuddered and looked up at him questioningly.

“You’re not gonna be that much trouble…are you?”

“I am a slave and a prisoner,” he informed me. “I will attempt to escape.”

“Well, isn’t that just ducky!” I grumbled. “I might as well just give you this thing and let you go right now!”

Noting his astonished expression, I went on. “I require the help of someone I can trust, Kittycat! I didn’t pay enough for you to go to a lot of trouble just to make you
stay with me, and I can’t afford to waste any time hunting you down, or trying to keep you in line. I’ve got enough trouble trying to find my sister as it is.”

I studied his enigmatic face for a long moment before letting out a pent-up breath. This just wasn’t going to work….

“Well, it was just a thought, anyway. I’ll have to figure out something else. Here,” I said, handing him the remote. “Hold this.” I fished into my pocket and put the other forty credits that I would have paid the Cylopean in his hand. “Good luck to you, my friend,” I said, looping the end of the chain over his arm. “I wish you well.”

I turned away, hitching my pack up on my shoulder, and set off down the street, leaving him behind. I would simply have to come up with a different plan. I could try to pretend to be a man myself. Perhaps not every man on Statzeel walked around with his dick hanging out, and if they did, I could always wear a strap-on.

Of course, if I pretended to be a man, then I’d probably need my own slave woman. Crap! I heaved a sigh of utter weariness, thinking that maybe I could buy a woman and then let her go, too. The idea had merit, and it would undoubtedly end up being much easier than dealing with a man I wasn’t sure I could trust. It had been pretty damned stupid of me to think that my slave would behave any better for me than he had for his previous owner—even if I
had
made his dick hard. I’d have thought that perhaps a former soldier would have had more of a sense of honor. Oh, well….

I stopped at the crossroad to let a cart pass, which was being pulled by a tired-looking smedreck. They were
sort of like horses, but not nearly as pretty, being more reptilian than anything. I missed horses, for I’d never found any animal like them on any other planet. They were unique to Earth, it seemed, and rightly so. I thought it fitting that we should hold claim to at least one thing that was beautiful and not to be found anywhere else. It made Earth seem that much more special and made me long to return home that much more.

As I tramped on down the street, I realized that I was getting hungrier by the second and decided to head back to my ship to get out of this damned respirator so I could eat something. It had been a very long and fruitless day—not to mention the fact that I had paid forty-five credits for a slave that I didn’t keep for more than ten minutes. I just hoped Ranata would stay put on Statzeel long enough for me to come up with a different plan. I figured I’d eat something and then sleep on it and see what else might come to mind, because at the time, I was fresh out of ideas.

I’d left my ship parked unceremoniously on the flat plain outside the town, and even though there were no amenities whatsoever, had been charged fifteen credits to keep it there. Wondering how far away I’d have had to land to park it for free, I keyed open the hatch with my thumb and went inside, closing it quickly in a futile attempt to keep the stench out of my ship. I knew I’d have to turn the filtration system on high to clear it out before I even thought about taking off the respirator, for, hungry and slightly nauseated as I was, even a whiff of that stink would probably have been the death of me. Of course, the respirator hadn’t helped a hundred percent:
that little snit on Dadred had taken me to the cleaners on that one! I figured I ought to go back and punch the sonofabitch’s beady little yellow eyes out since it seemed I had plenty of time now—unless an inspired plan to rescue Ranata suddenly came to me like a bolt from the blue.

I gave it a few minutes before I pulled off the respirator and plopped down in my big, comfy chair with a bowl of leftover stew. My ship was a good one, with all the amenities, which was fortunate because, on most planets, I hadn’t cared to stay in the local lodgings, some of which catered to very different creature comforts than those to which I was accustomed. I wasn’t terribly adventurous when it came to soaking in steaming mud baths, or lounging on a bed that was largely made of sharp stones, for example.

I wondered if my slave had managed to free himself yet and I hoped he wouldn’t waste the money I’d given him on something stupid like getting drunk or getting laid. It was possibly enough to buy passage off this horrid planet if he was frugal, but who knew what a recently freed Zetithian would choose to do? I’ll admit, I was feeling a bit guilty about having left him so abruptly, thinking that I should have at least stayed long enough to find food and clothing for him and to get him loose from those god-awful restraints!

I hadn’t admitted to myself yet that I’d left him like that because he hadn’t been able to see that I was a decent sort who would take care of him rather than abuse him. Perhaps it was the crack about having him castrated, which was something that I would never have
done even if I
had
kept him as a slave, but, of course, he couldn’t have known that. I hadn’t given him much of a chance, had I? And I certainly hadn’t factored the length of time it might take to convert him into the equation when I’d considered buying a slave for this purpose. I’d been on this planet too damned long, I decided, and I needed to get the heck out of Dodge. I was desperate to the point of actually considering just blundering onto Statzeel alone and taking my chances—which wouldn’t have done at all. I mean it really would’ve sucked to have come so far and taken so long, only to end up screwing the pooch at the last minute.

I finished my stew and sat there for perhaps fifteen minutes before getting to my feet, deciding that I would go back and look for the stupid sonofabitch and try to give him all the help I could. Of course, with a pissed-off Cylopean around, I’d probably end up getting myself killed in the process, but I felt that at least I had to give it a try. I had a fairly good chance of locating my little slave, since he was fairly conspicuous. He shouldn’t be too hard to find….

Unfortunately, neither was I. The Cylopean was waiting outside the hatch when I opened it, and while he still looked rather pissed, I suppose it might have been the pulse pistol he was pointing at me that gave me my first clue.

“You have something of mine,” he snarled. “I want him back, or I want the full fifty credits he is worth.”

I was armed, of course—I never went anywhere without Tex, my trusty pulse pistol!—but at the time, my weapon was holstered and I knew I’d probably have to talk my way out of this one.
“Listen, you little shit!” I snarled back at him. “That slave was worthless! He was wild and uncontrollable and I couldn’t trust him, so I gave him forty credits and the remote and left him in the street! Go find him yourself if you’re so damn worried about him.” When in doubt, tell the truth.

“That’s a lie!” the Cylopean hissed. “He’s here on your ship! He was seen in this area.”

I sighed and shook my head. “Why is it that no one ever listens to me? I’m an honest person and I tell the truth on a fairly regular basis, so I shouldn’t seem all that untrustworthy! It’s a curse, I tell you! A curse!” I sighed again. “Look, if he was seen in this area, then he must have come here on his own. I left him not thirty meters from the plaza. You can search my ship if you like. He’s not here.”