Taken (4 page)

Lyzette wrinkled her nose. She felt disgusted.

"Still, that will help," the blonde woman said, coming and sitting down at the table. Lyzette eyed her suspiciously.

"Help with what?"

"Your first time," she said. "My name is Raimey."

"Lyzette."

"Nice to meet you," the woman said.

"I wish I could say the same about you, but I'm not sure yet," Lyzette said honestly.

"I don't blame you for being distrustful," Raimey said. "It's probably a good thing. But for what it's worth, you can trust me."

"Why should I?"

"Because I've been in your position before. I know the feelings you're experiencing. I can help you make the most out of your situation."

"What do you mean? Help me do what?"

"To get the Markanor to take you as his wife. It's what all the slaves hope for, but none has ever seen happen."

Raimey explained to Lyzette that every few years, the Markanor went and purchased a new consort from the slave market. He never got emotionally involved with the women at all. They were simply a means of relieving the sexual pressure that built up every couple days in a Markan's body.

"They desire to have sex all the time. Their society prevents them from taking more than one mate at a time, so they need to find a woman who can handle having sex very, very frequently. The Markanor doesn't care if his slave can handle it or not. He fucks her whenever he wants to because she's his property."

"That sounds barbaric," Lyzette said, feeling afraid again.

"Don't start thinking that he's an asshole. He isn't. And he's a good lover," Raimey assured me.

"How do you know?" Lyzette said, frowning.

"Because I used to be his consort, until he cast me aside for the next new thing. Now, I'm a house slave."

"Oh," Lyzette said, taken aback at Raimey's revelation. "Is that my future?"

"I know how to get him to take you as his wife."

"Why would you want to help me?" Lyzette said, still feeling suspicious.

"Because it would be a victory for all the slaves if one of us elevated to the position of mistress of the house."

"What kind of victory?" Surely that couldn't be all she would gain when she got married?

"The mistress can give the slaves their freedom by sending them off the planet," she said. "We keep thinking that if only the Markanor would marry one of the slaves, then she could free us all. Every one of us has tried. But none of us has succeeded."

Lyzette stared at Raimey. That was quite a burden.

"How many slaves are there?"

"Seven of us now, including you," Raimey said, matter-of-factly.

Lyzette had never taken care of anyone besides herself. Her mother had not even trusted her enough to let her babysit the next door neighbor's children. Did Raimey want her to take responsibility for the lives of six people?

She was a no one from Earth. Just some slave. The flavor of the month for an alien male who was going to use her up and spit her out. She couldn't do what Raimey said. She couldn't save all those people. The Markanor was ruthless and took what he wanted. She had no power to make him care for her enough to want to marry her.

What was this woman thinking?

"Just consider it, okay?" Raimey said, getting up.

Lyzette nodded, feeling overwhelmed. The day had just begun.

"Come on. We've got to prepare you."

"For what?" she asked.

"For your first time, silly," Raimey said. "Your bath is all ready, and then we must begin the training."

"The training?" Lyzette said. Her voice trembled. "In what?"

"In making love, of course," Raimey said. "You must please the Markanor. It is crucial."

She knew the other women were watching. With her eyes shut tightly, Lyzette had been able to ignore them all. She lay panting and sweaty on the bed with her hand still up under her nightgown.

She couldn't even speak as the spasms shook her body.

"That's what you are looking for when he takes you the first time," Raimey told her. Lyzette had washed and was sitting in the circle of women on her bed. "The Markanors take pride in making their females come every time. It is a great dishonor if the male was to come before the female, so it is good that you are so orgasmic, Lyzette."

"I'm orgasmic?" she said, faintly.

"How long, Maureen?" Raimey asked an older woman.

"Four minutes, twenty-five seconds."

"You come quickly. If you can come that fast when he's inside you, you've got it made."

Lyzette stared at the women. She was pretty sure that if he stuck his big thing up inside her, she'd be screaming in pain, not in pleasure the way she just had. She didn't believe having the Markanor up inside her was going to feel good. It simply wasn't possible. But she knew that the women were counting on her, and she nodded.

It felt like an enormous burden that she had never asked for, but even so Lyzette felt something inside herself that she had never felt before. If she had to guess what it was, she would have to say it was strength. But she had never had any self-confidence or belief in herself, so she didn't know what it felt like.

Still, she liked it.

"Listen, Lyzette. You never know when he will call for you, so you have to be prepared. The most important thing to know is that he likes to be in control."

Lyzette nodded again. As if she would be taking control. What a laugh, she thought.

"And never shave down there," a red-headed woman said. "He likes his women natural. He says he isn't a pervert, and he doesn't want a damn child."

"And whatever you do, don't get on top unless he asks you to," a black woman said, shuddering. "He spanked me so hard I couldn't stand up for days."

Lyzette swallowed hard. Spanking?

"Don't worry, Lyzette. He doesn't usually do that. Delia is the only one of us that he ever spanked for doing something wrong in bed. And don't pretend that you didn't like it because you know you did. Stop scaring her, Delia. She's worried enough as it is."

Raimey frowned at Delia, who immediately snapped her mouth closed.

"It's a good idea when you get the call, to touch yourself beforehand so you're ready when it's time. You have an hour in his chambers before he comes in. You can spend some of that time getting yourself prepped," another woman said.

"Yes, that's a good plan," another one said.

"Why?" Lyzette said, confused.

"Well, it's like this, Lyz," Maureen said. "Women and men are both climbing hills when they're making love. It's just that the man takes about ten minutes to get to the top, but it takes a woman at least a half an hour. Typical women, not like you."

"Climbing hills?" Lyzette said, feeling confused.

"Yes, and the men climb faster than the women. If you get started climbing your hill before you get near him, then you have a shorter distance to go, and you have a better chance of finishing at the same time."

"Oh," Lyzette said. She wondered what the hell they meant.

"It's giving the slower person in a race a head start, that way the faster person and the more deliberate person finish together. That's the idea," Raimey said, and all the women laughed.

Lyzette felt out of her depth. How would she remember all their advice?

How was she supposed to relax and have an orgasm if she was so worried about screwing up and ruining their plans? And what would happen when he took her jewel?

Lyzette found herself hyperventilating a little at the thought. She also felt sad. She wanted to give her jewel to her husband. The man she would love.

Now she had to give it to an alien because she was a slave on a foreign planet.

It wasn't fair, but it was her new life. She would have to make the best of it. All she had to do was wait to be called by the Markanor.

Three days later, she was still waiting.

It was breakfast time. "He'll call you soon, Lyzzie, don't worry," Maureen said, patting her knee.

Lyzette certainly hoped so. Or did she? She didn't know what she wanted. She only knew that waiting was making her crazy. She felt like she needed something badly, but she didn't know what it was. She was going to explode if she didn't get whatever it was soon.

The women said it was natural to be feeling that way. When the Markanor first acquired them, everyone had a similar reaction. Lyzette didn't understand half of what they were saying, but she smiled and nodded and tried to do as they asked. In this strange new world, she was attempting to keep her head above water, and once she got used to things, maybe she would figure everything out.

Her summons came in the afternoon. Lyzette thought it odd that he didn't wait until the evening.

"Lyz, the Markanor wants sex when the Markanor wants sex. Your job is to show up, enjoy it, and please him," said Raimey.

"Besides, it'll last well into the night, won't it girls?" Maureen said.

Lyzette had a hard time believing that Maureen had been his consort once, but the women said it was true. They wouldn't lie to her, would they?

"Come on Lyzzie, let's get you all ready," Raimey said. They had been sitting at a table shelling peas, but everyone stopped what they were doing when the summons came.

Raimey took her to the bathhouse. Lyzette washed everywhere. She was provided pleasant smelling oils to rub all over her body — even in her private parts.

"Don't put too much of the tangerine oil down there," Raimey cautioned her. "He doesn't like the taste."

Lyzette stared at her, frozen in place.

"What is he going to be tasting down there?" she asked weakly.

Raimey laughed and handed her a handful of white cloth.

"Here, put this on. It's lingerie. Then I'll do your hair a little."

Lyzette pulled on panties and stockings that came up to her thigh. The top was a tiny dress that was so short that it showed some of her underwear. A bra in the little dress shoved her breasts up into cleavage. Raimey finished by handing her a pair of matching high heels, which Lyzette put on eagerly.

"Turn around."

Lyzette spun in a slow circle.

"Wow, you look great. He likes his women to LOOK innocent, but you ARE innocent. Won't he be surprised?" Raimey murmured.

She stepped in front of the mirror without answering Raimey and stared at herself. She was a vision in white. Her dark brown hair was long, loose, and curling. Her curvy body looked good, with the lingerie emphasizing all her best parts and minimizing the bad.

"You'd better get over there," Raimey said. "You don't want to be late."

Lyzette nodded mutely and headed for the door.

"Hey, Lyzzie," Raimey said, and Lyzette turned around. "He won't hurt you, you know. You don't have anything to worry about."

Lyzette doubted that was true, but she tried to smile to show she wasn't afraid.

She didn't convince Raimey.

"Do you want me to walk you over?" Raimey offered.

"No, I'm fine, Raimey. Thank you for all your help," Lyzette said formally. Then she went out the door.

When she arrived at his room, she knocked timidly.

"Come in," she heard his rough, deep voice say.

She couldn't move.

This was happening. His voice on the other side of the door proved it. And she wasn't ready. She didn't want this. She refused to give her jewel to him.

"Come in," the gravelly voice repeated, sounding a little more irritated this time.

She could run. She could escape. She could change clothes and leave. No one would stop her.

Or maybe they would.

Everyone knew he was taking her for the first time today. And they all knew she was nervous about it. And what about the women that all had their hopes of freedom pinned on her?

Lyzette felt the weight of responsibility descend on her shoulders. She felt as if she were suffocating. Everyone was forcing her into doing something. She had never had to take care of anyone other than herself. Her mother had never expected Lyzette's help. But now everything was different. Now all these people were counting on her to go through this door and making the Markanor happy.

Lyzette felt a big ball of dread in the pit of her stomach, but she squared her shoulders, stood up tall, and put her hand on the doorknob.

At that moment, the door flew open, startling her so that she stumbled backward.

"What are you doing out here?" the Markanor said, apparently angry with her. "I called you to come in, twice."

He held up two strong fingers in front of her face.

Lyzette was afraid and couldn't answer. She stood in silence, staring at him with big eyes. He looked at her a moment and then stepped back, tilting his head to the side as if examining her.

"What's wrong?" he said, gruffly.

Lyzette still felt paralyzed. She couldn't do this.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he said. "Like you're afraid."

Lyzette swallowed.

"Answer me, damn it," he said, getting angry again.

Her eyes got wide, and she became fearful. She managed to say something and answer him.

"Because I am afraid," she whispered. It was all she could manage.

He looked taken aback and dismayed.

"Why are you scared? None of the others were afraid," he told her.

"Maybe none of them showed they were," Lyzette suggested, her voice still barely above a whisper. She had her arms crossed over her chest and held her body back away from the Markanor. His height was intimidating, even though she was wearing heels. His hulking form scared her more than his anger. She wondered how she would endure this trial.

He frowned down at her.

"You're different. I don't know if I like it," he said, leaning back against the door frame and studying her. "I hope I don't have to get a refund. The Mordeelan looked like he wanted to have a lot of fun with you if he ended up keeping you."

Lyzette felt a lump come into her throat. She wasn't the smartest tool in the shed, but she knew a kind master when she saw one. She certainly didn't want to go back to the Mordeelan with the snake in his pants who had captured her. He would be much worse than the Markanor.