The Rift Rider (11 page)

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Authors: Mark Oliver

BOOK: The Rift Rider
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“This, my lady," Bei said, "is the
legendary Charlie Scott and I can assure you that everything about this
gentleman is real,” said Bei.

“Legendary? I've heard nothing of this boy."

"The ladies of moons one and two
whisper a hundred tales about this man's loving. And I have seen his manhood
with my own eyes. In all my travels I've never seen a finer example."

Charlie cringed. So Bei had seen him naked
too.

The lady smiled, seemingly pleased at what
she heard. She studied Charlie with hungry eyes. He recognised the look. He had
seen it a thousand times in Swansea's meat markets. It was the wolfish look of
sexual desire imprinted on every fool's face, including Charlie's, when at ten
minutes to two the clubs threatened to close without them pulling. By this time
in the night the downed vodka red bulls had ramped up their horniness to
inhuman heights while also ruining all chances of impressing a member of the
opposite sex.

"Step forward young man,” Lady Ori
said.

Charlie took a few paces forward, stopped at
the base of the throne and bent down onto one knee. Out of the corner of his
eyes, he watched the two alien beasts.

Lady Ori reached down and placed a hand
against his head. She ran her amber hands through his hair, leaned forwards, and
stroked his cheek with a gentle caress, lifted his chin and looked deep into
his eyes.

Bork's beastly come on momentarily flashed
through Charlie's mind. He pushed the memory away and smiled at the monarch.

“Lovely,” Lady Ori said, pulling away and
leaning back on her throne. "Where did you find such a delightful
specimen?" She asked Bei.

“On my travels, your Ladyship.”

“You must have travelled far, Captain
Lowaiki. I’ve never seen a man such as this. He has the eyes and hair of a
silver, without their hideous skin or tedious personality. He's quite
gorgeous.”

"Indeed," Bei said.

To Charlie she said, “You may stand.”

Charlie climbed to his feet and returned to
his place beside Bei.

“I accept your offer Captain Lowaiki.”
 

"Excellent," Bei said.

"Consider yourself most fortunate
Captain," Lady Ori said, her voice edged with steel once more. "I
would have been well within my rights to take the boy and your life. But as a
young man you gave me two nights of quite exquisite pleasure that I remember to
this day. For that reason alone, I'll let you walk out of here with your
life."

"Thank you, your Ladyship," Bei
said, bowing again.

"Now leave my city immediately and
don't come back. I have a reputation to maintain and the fact that you're still
breathing reflects poorly on me."

"I understand, your Ladyship," Bei
said, straightening. He patted Charlie on the shoulder, moved in close and
whispered, "Good luck." Then he walked out of the court, escorted by
Square Head and his troop.

Charlie's heart sank. He was alone now.

Lady Ori clapped her hands twice, and two
guards stepped forward from the line of handsome mercenaries behind her.

"Charlie Scott, you are now my
property. Whatever I ask you to do, you shall do without hesitation. Insubordination
will be punished and if you fail to please me you will be sent to the mines. Do
you understand?"

"Yes, your Ladyship," Charlie
said, bowing as he had seen Bei do.

"Excellent. I am very much looking
forward to our first sexual congress."

Charlie swallowed. Bei had said nothing
about shagging.

“Guards, place the palace bracelets on my
new concubine and show him to the harem.”

While one guard held him, the other attached
a pair of silver bracelet to his wrists. Each one had a series of gently
pulsing, blue spheres embedded into the metal. They looked expensively made, like
something a rapper would wear in a music video. However, Charlie doubted they
were simple fashion accessories. Something told him their real purpose was to
keep him under Lady Ori's control, to keep him enslaved.

For that was what he had now become, a
palace sex slave.

Chapter 14
 

 
As the guards led
Charlie out of the court and through the palace corridors, he kept his
eyes wide open. When he escaped he would need to know his way around the place.
He had no intention of living the rest of his life as a rent boy, no matter how
hot Lady Ori was.

He noted mentally where each corridor led
and where the patrolling palace guards came to rest. Life-sized statues of men,
so disproportionally proportioned they would make a porn star feel inadequate,
appeared every ten metres of so. Charlie memorised their location too.

The guards came to a stop in front of a
great wooden door. Although Charlie had grown somewhat accustomed to the
splendour of the palace, the door took his breath away.

It had been expertly engraved with intricate
images of men and women engaged in all manner carnal acts: a furry man bending
over a hairless woman, a furry woman with her heads between the legs of a furry
man, a furry woman sat astride a hairless man. The carpenter had covered every
conceivable position and then thrown some more in. Half of the moves seemed
impossible to achieve without a year's yoga practice and a two-foot willy.

Looking at the enwrapped men and women,
Charlie realised he was considerably out of his depth. If this is what Lady
Ori's used to, he thought, I'm going to have to raise my game.

Two huge guards, topless, their stacked
muscles glistening with oil, stood either side of the massive door. They looked
like genies put in place to guard a secret treasure trove.
 
They exchanged a few words with
Charlie's escort. They grabbed the large golden handles and pulled, revealing
Lady Ori's most prized possessions: her concubines.

Charlie walked inside. The room stood at two
rugby pitches in length and one in width. Decorative tile work formed complex
mosaics on the floor. The ceiling was no less impressive. From it hung golden
chains supporting candles and lamps of every shade and hue.

All around the room, men of varying colours
and sizes sat lounging in small groups. Some of the men wore soft robes, others
only underwear. All were in peak physical conditions. It reminded Charlie of
the gladiator stable he had seen on Spartacus.

The sound of idle chatter and laughter drifted
to Charlie on the back of plumes of delicious smoke puffed into the air by
water pipe smoking concubines. Charlie sniffed the spicy and fruity scents.

Halfway down the room, a live band played. Its
musicians blew on flutes made of bone, banged animal hide drums and fingered
strings on instruments resembling guitars but sounding like harps. The music
was soft and relaxing, allowing the men to talk without shouting.

The harem had been divided into different
sections. The sleeping sections, filled with soft looking beds and large
hammocks and lounges, occupied the central left side of the room. A huge
swimming pool filled the centre of the room. Exercise areas formed a ring
around it. Charlie checked out the equipment and weights. It made Charlie's
university gym look like a toddler's playground surrounded it.

All in all it was a spectacular room, but
right now all Charlie wanted to know was where the toilet was. His bowels were
screaming in protest and the long walk through the palace had been more than a
little uncomfortable to say the least.

A man, older than the rest, walked over to
greet Charlie. His face was heavily wrinkled, and his burgundy skin had the
texture of dried leather, but his eyes danced with light. He wore a suit, cut
tight, revealing a still muscular frame. Charlie hoped he would tell him where
the nearest toilet was.

The man's lips curled into a handsome smile.
“Welcome to your new home. My name is Waw Keep.”

“I’m Charlie, Charlie Scott.”

“Charlie," Waw said, rolling the name
around his mouth like a boiled sweet. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I’m
the mister here. It’s my job to make sure the men stay healthy, well fed and
content. If you need anything, just ask and I'll do my best to see it done.”

"Actually I do have a question,"
Charlie said, squinting. "Where are the toilets?"

Waw laughed. "Follow me."

Five minutes later, Charlie stepped out of
the bathroom a new man. The toilet had been of the type usually reserved for
dictators and megalomaniac movie stars. It had more buttons than his DVD remote
control and seats lined with animal fur. Charlie was already looking forward to
his next trip.

Charlie, smiling and feeling a good deal
lighter, followed Waw on his tour of the palace harem. Despite being imprisoned
and about to start work as a prostitute, Charlie could not shake the positivity
that always accompanied a good shit.

As they walked, Charlie saw that all of the
concubines wore the same silver and blue bracelets he wore. Waw was the only
person without a pair. Charlie held up his wrists. "What's the story with
these?" If, as he expected, their purpose were to imprison him, he would
need to know how they worked.

"They're palace bracelets. Her ladyship
places them on all of her concubines and servants. She wears the master
bracelet."

Charlie recalled the thick gold encircling
her wrist.

"If anyone displeases her," Waw,
said coolly, "they receive a pulse up their arms. An experience I can
assure you most remember for a long time. In that way she can keep her staff in
check without having to resort to the usual physical mutilation that takes
place outside. She wants her palace staff obedient and in perfect physical
condition."

Charlie frowned. Having to wear these
bracelets was another thing Bei had conveniently failed to mention. “So, Lady
Ori likes to keep us slaves on a tight reign."

 
Waw snorted. “Slaves? Take a look around.
This is paradise. Are you saying you'd rather be out there shovelling shit like
the rest of them?"

Charlie said nothing.

"In the harem, you'll live like a prince.
You'll eat food cooked by the best chefs on Seenthee, sleep on sheets made of
the finest silk and wear robes fit for a monarch. All that is asked of you is
that you stay in shape and seek to improve your lovemaking technique."

Charlie turned to the pool and exercise
areas. Staying in shape will be easy enough, he thought. But improving my
lovemaking techniques?

"If her ladyship loses interest in you
or you fail to satisfy her," Waw said, growing serious, "you'll be
sent to the mines. And then you'll know what it is to be a slave."

Charlie swallowed. Although Amy had never
complained about his bedroom skills, she had never exactly complimented them
either.

"So you've got plenty of
incentive," Waw said. "And, if you make it to ten year's service, the
ladyship will reward you with your freedom." He held up his bare wrists.

“How many make it to ten?

“Some. It’s a constant challenge to keep her
ladyship interested. It requires charm, technique and constant invention."

"Why did you stay?"

The burgundy gent smiled and waved an arm at
the harem. "I got used to the luxury. And I'm not alone. Many former
concubines remain in the harem after their service, teaching the next
generation how to give pleasure in all its many forms.”

The old man smiled. He reminded Charlie a
little of an ex-professional footballer, refusing to leave the game.

“Now, if you're ready," Waw said,
 
"I’d like to introduce you to some
of the concubines.”

Charlie smiled. "Go ahead."

The concubines greeted Charlie as one of
their own. Friendly and welcoming, they shuffled aside to allow him space to
sit and answered his questions with smiles and good humour.
 
He sensed that despite their captivity,
they were a happy bunch, content to spend their days lazing about on the piles
of soft cushions, smoking their fruity water pipes and sampling the delicacies
brought to them by the palace servants. They passed their time playing
holographic games beamed up from hologram torches built into the floor, or
reading on sleek tablet devices.

A thick set concubine with a lustrous
moustache was showing Charlie a graphic novel depicting one of Seenthee's
ancient myths, when Waw interrupted them politely and said, “It's time to show
you the marquees.”

In each of the harem's four corners a giant
marque had been erected. The marques all had a unique colour and purpose.

A couple of hover cycles floated nearby. Waw
got on one and showed Charlie how it worked. After the rocket ride, they looked
as safe and simple as a child's tricycle.

Charlie climbed on, placed his feet on the
square pedals, and pushed his right heel down. The battery, hidden beneath the
leather seat, powered up. The hover cycle rose. A push of the left pedal sent
it floating forward and then Charlie was off, weaving his way through groups of
lounging concubines, towards the first of the four marquees.

It was massive, spreading out from the
corner in an explosion of purple fabric. It had three peaks. They brushed the
harem ceiling. Its drapes flowed out around it, spreading over the harem tiles
like giantess's dress.

Waw pulled open the entrance curtain and led
Charlie inside. A wave of moisture and heat greeted them. Dozens of stone
baths, overflowing with water and bubbles, formed a hazy circle in the centre
of the marquee. Concubines, half hidden by steam, lay inside them, their eyes
closed, their muscular arms hanging over the sides.

“I’ll leave you to freshen up,” Waw said.
“You look like you could do with a bath.”

Charlie waited for Waw to leave, before
shedding his clothes. After the long journey across the desert they were
covered in filth and sweat. Charlie was glad to peel them off. He threw them to
one side and climbed into one of the tubs.

The water enveloped him in its warmth. The
surface flickered and bubbles of soft foam popped through the surface. The
layer of foam grew until it reached his chin and then stopped. The bubbles
seemed to seep into him, erasing every ache and pain and worry. He sighed and
closed his eyes.

When he opened them, the foam had all but
dissolved. He breathed deeply, feeling refreshed and awake for the first time
in days.

He looked around the inside of the marquee.
Along the sides, naked concubines emerged from steam rooms, or sat in reclining
chairs, their multi-coloured crown jewels on show for all to see. Charlie
averted his eyes. If he had learned one thing after all the years showering
with his rugby teammates, it was not to stare at another man's bollocks,
however green or golden they might be.

He glanced behind him, and his jaw dropped.
Two metres away, a trio of turen women, as naked as the day they were born, were
massaging a lucky concubine. One sat astride him, kneading his shoulders, while
the others knelt down rubbing his hands and feet. As they worked, their breasts
and bottoms glistened with sweat and jiggled pleasantly.

All three of them were looking over at
Charlie, peering into his now clear bath water. With horror Charlie felt a
stirring beneath the surface. He dropped his arms into the water and tried not
to think about the ladies behind him.

"Come on, Charlie," Waw called. He
was stood in Marquee entrance, holding a bathrobe. "Time for the next
marquee."

Charlie looked around him. A few towels hung
on a stand five metres away. Charlie figured he could reach them in five quick
steps. "No need for those," Waw said, shaking the robe, ten metres
away.

"Can I have a minute?" Charlie
shouted across the marquee.

 
Waw laughed. "There's no place for
shyness in the harem."

Around the marquee, the concubines stirred,
their attention turning to the new recruit.

Charlie took a deep breath, and climbed out
of the bathtub. First day here, he thought, and I've already humiliated myself.

Yet, incredibly, as he walked, straight
backed, erect, no laughter came. Nobody wolf whistled or cracked a joke. The
concubines simply watched him pass, checking him out, impassively, and then
returning to their heated slumber.

Waw threw him the robe and, giving a
perfunctory glance downwards, said, "I see everything's in working order.
Excellent."

Charlie blushed and slipped on the robe.

 
The second marque, deep red and single
peaked, was a five-minute walk away so Waw had them push the hover cycles
giving them time to admire the surroundings.

Once inside the marque, Charlie found
himself surrounded by clothes. This was the concubine's dressing room. Robes,
shirts, suits, kilts, underwear, pyjamas, boots, slippers, brogues, trainers,
rubber bodysuits and swimwear, it seemed that every possible type of clothing
could be found under the red roof. Even to Charlie's untrained eye, it was
clear that the suits and shirts were the work of skilled tailors.

 
“Help yourself to anything you like,” Waw
said, and then went off to chat with a couple of concubines being measured for
new suits.

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