“What’s your fantasy?” he asked. She fidgeted in her seat, “You first.”
Sulla smirked as he took a sip of whiskey. The young woman sat in across from him in the dimly lit room. Dark silk curtains separated them from the rest of the high class bordello. The woman Sulla chose was of slender build and caramel complexion that gleamed in the soft lighting. Dark eyes and long dark wavy hair that cascaded over her elegant shoulders and framed her angled facial features. Large dark brown eyes underneath ling black lashes leered at him. She was wearing a long flowing cream colored satin gown that threatened to fall at her slightest movement.
“Undress,” he ordered. “Slowly.” A smile played on the woman’s luscious lips. Her gold earrings dangled at her every movement as she rose from her seat and moved to unhook the straps. In a sort of dance she began removing her dress. Just as she was about to get to her perky round breasts Sulla’s comm made an irritating beeping sound. The woman stopped her little show as Sulla groaned then he looked at the small comm. His annoyance turned to intrigue when he saw the encrypted file.
“I’m sorry, my dear, but we’re going to have to cut our appointment short,” Sulla explained mournfully as he got ready to leave. “Some important business came up.”
“Can’t it wait?” The woman pleaded sweetly. “It can’t be nearly as important as this…” The woman allowed the fabric to fall, baring her perky breasts who’s sharp dark nipples stood at attention, calling for him to come for a taste.
“As temptingly beautiful as you are,” Sulla caressed the young woman’s face, tucking a loose hair behind her other ear, “this cannot wait.” Sulla gave her a lingering kiss on the woman’s forehead then left her quite put out.
* * * *
Ice shivered down his spine. Van held out for as long as he could. The cold. The pain. It all became too much for his body to endure any longer. He had to give them something. He was a hacker not a freedom fighter.
Van was strapped to the chair in the dark room of a part of the undeveloped city. Dried blood caked on his upper lip. It dried pretty quickly once it hit the air. Since the population boom of refugees the Earth Confederation had to expand the Zagreus Dome to placate the populace of the Athena Belt while they repaired the mining stations… so they claimed.
Faro lit a cigarette as he waited for Sulla to answer his call.
“Was it worth it?” Van asked him.
“What?” Faro answered coolly.
“Betraying your people?”
Faro’s brow furrowed then he scoffed, “This is war. I’m a soldier. I’m loyal to the people I work for unlike you who broke after what? 3 hours? Damn. Legion is lowering it’s standards.” Faro took his burning cigarette then held it dangerously close to the prisoner’s face. The prisoner jerked back but the bonds held him in place.
“You high class types,” Faro spoke low and rough. “So soft. Don’t want to get your hands dirty. You don’t know what real fighting looks like.”
“Mr. Faro,” Sulla stood in the entrance way. His two body guards stood behind him watching the tunnels. Faro backed away then said, “I used those hacking codes like you said and they led me to the source of some of those government leaks.” Faro pointed his burning cigarette at the frightened boy. “Found this little rat in the Garden Bloc.”
“The Garden Bloc?” Sulla approached to get a better look at his captive. “You must come from a privileged family.”
“Go on,” Faro prompted the prisoner. “Tell him what you told me.” The boy hesitated. Sulla stared at the prisoner long and hard, “If you help us then you’ll be saving lives. Innocent lives. The families of the insurgents are still being held prisoner but if the real culprits aren’t found then their families will pay the price. Make the real criminals take responsibility for their actions. No more innocents have to die.”
The boy closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbed, swallowing his resistance then he said, “I know where you can find the ones who’ve been stealing rations from the food banks.”
* * * *
“Tango or Waltz?” he asked. Constance wore her athletic attire, a tank top and black stretching yoga pants that perfectly shaped her hourglass figure. She crossed her arms looking at Dex suspiciously.
“Why should it matter which dance? I thought you were teaching me self defense?” she said.
“The past few weeks you haven’t improved,” Dex reasoned. Constance frowned as she flicked her long raven braid, “I’m training to please men. All I know how to do is sing, give wonderful conversation, dance and…” Her cheeks flushed. For the past two weeks they haven’t been doing the one thing that they were supposed to be doing. Lady Euphemia could tell. She would watch Constance with those cold calculating blue eyes. Even Constance was growing agitated by Dex’s hesitation.
“Why don’t we do what you were hired for?” Constance asked impatiently. She stood before him looking up at him with her keen bejeweled eyes. There was a longing in her that she knew Dex sensed. He cast down his gray eyes looking at her delicious figure in those yoga pants, his fists clenching as if he were trying to stop himself. There occasions like this. Standing so close, he could feel her sweat on his skin. A part of Dex wanted to throw her down on the mat then ravage her young body until she squealed.
“Every girl needs to know the basic moves of self defense,” Dex finally spoke.
“I’m Ashoka we don’t believe in violence,” Constance reminded Dex impatiently. She went to her wrist where her prayer beads usually adorned but Dex had been making her take them off during their training sessions.
“Self defense isn’t violence,” Dex surmised. “You’re not inviting trouble but when it comes you’ll be ready. Now come on. Let’s try thinking of it as another dance lesson.”
* * * *
Next morning came. The artificial day lights streamed into Constance’s bed room. Another cold morning after a cold night. Constance brushed her long dark curls, parting them with the sharp edge of an ivory comb. Her amber comb was missing. She had a spare but the amber was her favorite. It was a birthday gift from her sister, Felicity before Constance was sold to Hedone. She was sure it would turn up but in the mean time Constance couldn’t stop thinking about Dex. Last night she had a dream that Dex came into her room kissing her entire body as she groaned in ecstasy. The heat from their friction still set her loins on fire. Their self defense sessions did little to abate those feelings. She couldn’t stop having naughty thoughts about letting him slam her on that mat and… Then in the mirror she saw Ion enter in unannounced.
“I love it when you wear your hair down,” Ion licked his lips, his cool blue eyes roving over her like she was some piece of meat.
“You’re not supposed to be in here,” Constance warned calmly. She went back to brushing her hair. “You’re not my instructor.”
“Constance…,” Ion said her name as if it were dripping with honey. “Why don’t you like me?”
“What makes you say that?” Constance sighed though she stopped combing her hair.
“You haven’t taken me up on my offer even though your current instructor isn’t… getting the job done.”
Constance continued to watch Ion from the mirror. She asked, “I didn’t know you were so concerned with my instruction.”
“Oh I am,” Ion watched her, cold eyes caressed her with lusting, invisible fingers. “You have such potential. You need someone willing to teach all the pleasures this world has to offer,” he said coming closer. Ion focused his attention on the tassels of Constance’s bed.
“And you’re the one who can teach me these… pleasures?” Constance rose from her seat and crossed her arms, causing her breasts to squeeze together making them look more succulent making Ion’s mouth water. Her silk robe was tied tightly around her waist. Many naughty thoughts danced in Ion’s head.
“Maybe I should tell the Matron,” Ion suggested. “Can’t promise she won’t throw Ransom out. Perhaps she’ll finally see what a nuisance he is.”
Constance’s cheeks burned. The thought of Dex leaving bothered her for some reason. She didn’t understand it but the idea of him leaving scared her. She pressed her lips together making them a darker shade of pink. Constance avoided Ion’s penetrating gaze as he stood only a foot away. She could feel the heat coming from him in their close proximity.
“What do you want, Ion?” Constance looked into his devious eyes. He reached out and took hold of the tie on her robe, holding it loosely then lightly pulling it to undo the tie revealing a bit of Constance’s night gown and her full bosom.
“You know what I want,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire.
Constance cast down her emerald eyes then she stepped forth and pulled Ion in for a kiss. Soft at first. Light and innocent until it became more sultry, more fervent. She bit and sucked on his lower lip as he wrapped his arms around Constance’s waist giving into the kiss more. Constance reached around Ion’s neck, lightly tracing her nails sending tiny trickles along his spine. His nerves becoming electrified Ion pushed Constance up against the dresser. He lifted her onto the dresser, parting her legs, his lust rushing blood to his loins. Ion pushed the silk hem of Constance’s night gown up over her shapely hips. Their tongues danced in each other’s mouths in a lustful joust seeing who would be on top. As their kiss deepened Constance reached for something. Her hand made it to her sharp comb but before she could stick Ion in wherever she deemed fit, he caught her wrist with one hand and had his other around her neck.
“I thought Ashoka didn’t believe in violence,” Ion wondered with an evil smile.
“Self defense isn’t violence,” Constance retorted remembering Dex’s words. With cold eyes Ion squeezed her wrist very hard forcing her to relinquish her small weapon. Even though he had the advantage Constance’s emerald eyes shined with defiance. Ion chuckled. For a moment Constance thought he would squeeze her throat but instead he released her. She gasped quickly, her wind pipe free to take in air once more.
“I’ll see you, Constance,” Ion winked. Then he left Constance anxious about what he would do next.
* * * *
Lady Euphemia lay in bed next to Dex. She ran her nails along his back, retracing the contours of his muscles. She smiled as she saw the marks of her nails she left the night before. The one scar she was fascinated by though was his burn scar on his arm. Dex said it was to forget his past. Euphemia already knew the answer. She knew that Dexter Ransom wasn’t even his real name. She called it out last night to his anger. But the anger made their bed time much more fun.
“Lady Euphemia, Mr. Ion Coburn is here to see you,” a voice called on Euphemia’s comm. With an incensed eye roll and frustrated sigh, Euphemia climbed out of bed wrapping her robe around her voluptuous pale form. She gave herself a mirror check. By all accounts she was still an alluring creature. The Instructors Euphemia hired never really complain.
Satisfied with her appearance Euphemia went into the next room leaving Dex to sleep. Ion was admiring a painting depicting the Rape of Prosperina.
“Pretty violent subject for a school learning about sexual love,” Ion wondered aloud.
“Greek and Roman mythology is filled with such scenes but still people love reading them,” Euphemia shrugged.
“Gods can get away with anything,” Ion turned to Euphemia, a knowing smile on his smug face. “Because they’re gods but we’re mortals.”
“What do you want, Ion?” Euphemia sighed.
“Sorry to wake you but I wanted to report some misconduct from one of the Erotic Instructors.”
“Oh? You’re finally turning yourself in?”
“I don’t—“
“Don’t bother with excuses, Roman,” Euphemia became somber as Ion frowned at the mention of his real name. “Some of the girls have complained about your… misbehavior. Stealing other students from other instructors, manipulating girls, turning them against each other.”
“I’m teaching them about the real world,” Ion excused. Euphemia held her hand up to silence him.
“I said don’t bother with excuses,” she repeated firmly. “I know your type… say what you have to say then leave.”
Ion cleared his throat then explained, “Dex Ransom hasn’t been training Constance. He’s training her yes but not in the erotic arts.”
Euphemia raised an inquisitive eye brow. This wasn’t news to her but she assumed that Dex was erotically training Constance else where… but she could spot a virgin a mile away.
“And you suggest I fire him?” she asked mockingly.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Ion smirked. “I have another proposal.”
* * * *
Next two parts come next week.
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