“I thought that was just your cover story,” Trin said, inhaling deeply as he instructed. A cool, faintly sweet scent reached her nose at once. And to her relief, it did ease the headache. “That does help.” She looked at him. “Did you know I’d have a headache when I woke up? More aftereffects of those damn passion berries?”
He nodded. “Afraid so.”
“Well how much longer am I going to keep having them? Feeling so fatigued and waking up with my head pounding…” Trin frowned. “I mean, it’s ridiculous—I barely took one tiny sip of that wine!”
“It was laced with three berries,” he pointed out. “That’s enough for three people your size. “You’re just lucky you didn’t drink any more.”
“But isn’t there a way to get rid of all of it—after effects and all?” Trin demanded. “You should know—you said the passion berries were native to your planet.”
He shrugged obliquely.
“Sure—the same thing that’s the only cure if you take the second and third sips.”
Trin bit her lip. “You mean…penetration and…and insemination?”
“Uh-huh.” His eyes were half-lidded now for some reason and his deep voice was a soft growl.
“That’s…unnatural.” Trin felt her heart pound at the thought…I am one of the Unpenetrated. I have too much self respect to allow such a thing. Besides it’s wrong. Allowing a male to penetrate you with his shaft was like a slap in the face of the Goddess—or so said the priestesses who served in her temple. And while Trin had outgrown many of her childhood beliefs, some were far too ingrained to get rid of. Not that she wanted to. “It’s unthinkable,” she said firmly.
“Not for a lot of females,” Thrace pointed out. “It is the way most people–hell, most species—reproduce, you know.”
“Well not my people,” Trin said sharply. “I don’t want to be penetrated anymore than you do. It’s…wrong.”
He winced and sat back.
“Point taken. All right, let’s forget about it then. I have plenty of mint oil if you get another headache.”
“Thank you.” She smiled at him. “That’s very thoughtful. So what did you learn about our roles here?”
Thrace shrugged. “Not that different from Yonnie Six, really, except there’s no punishment involved. Well, no punishment by pain anyway. I am still expected to wait on you hand and foot and drop to my knees and kiss you to show reverence when we’re announced at the reception…that kind of thing.”
“I’m sorry about that.” Trin bit her lip. When she’d first had the idea to buy a male slave to act as her prop during situations like this, she’d been thinking that males were big dumb brutes—more animal than anything else—so the idea of one of them subjugating himself to her in public hadn’t seemed like a big deal. After all, her stallion, Swift was quick to come running and was happy to perform a few tricks for the treats she always carried in her pocket. Trin had imagined training a slave much the same way.
Now she had a slave—albeit a temporary one—and she knew he was sharply intelligent as well as proud and strong. Asking Thrace to bow and scrape to her every whim seemed wrong…degrading.
Her feelings must have shown on her face because Thrace took her hand in his and looked into her eyes.
“It’s all right—I don’t mind, Mistress.”
“How can you not?” Trin protested. “All this bowing and kissing my foot in public…”
“It’s not your foot I’m supposed to kiss. Haven’t you ever been to a Yonnite High Reception before?”
“Not one where I was announced. Why, what are you supposed to kiss?” Trin felt a surge of apprehension.
Thrace raised an eyebrow at her. “Your panties, Mistress.”
“My what?” Trin’s heart started to pound. “I really don’t think—”
“Hey, it’s all right.” Thrace stroked a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Listen, baby, I know you’ve never been kissed there so I promise to be gentle.”
“I’m not a baby—I’m your Mistress,” Trin reminded him a little sharply, though she secretly rather liked the sweet, caressing name he called her when he forgot himself.
“Mistress, then. What I’m trying to say is, it’s just a quick kiss—nothing too deep or intimate. A formality, really.”
“A formality,” Trin echoed doubtfully. “Well, I guess…”
“It’ll be fine,” he assured her. “But right now, you need to get ready or we’re going to be late.”
“All right, what am I wearing? That?” Trin eyed the turquoise gown apprehensively. If anything it looked even more revealing than the yellow gown she’d fallen asleep in.
“Afraid so,” Thrace said. “I checked and this is the kind of dress all the mistresses are wearing to the reception tonight—the latest Yonnite fashion. You probably won’t like it but it’s going to look fucking gorgeous on you.”
Trin grimaced. “I hate it already.”
“At least the shoes have a lower heel,” he remarked, showing her a pair of turquoise sandals with straps over the arch and heel. “So they shouldn’t hurt your feet as much.”
“Anything but the boots I’m used to is probably going to hurt,” Trin groused. She sighed. “All right—let’s get this over with. Give me the dress and point me towards the fresher.”
Silently, Thrace complied.
After ten minutes of trying to get comfortable in the new outfit, Trin looked down at herself and grimaced. She’d been right—the gown was more revealing than the yellow one. Instead of a whole panel of lace to cover her chest, it only had a thin rectangular strip which barely hid her nipples and stretched tightly from side to side. It kept wanting to come loose and Trin had to adjust it several times to get it to stay in place.
Below, the gown was no better. There was no lace panel this time. Instead, the dress had a kind of strange draw-string type feature which split the bottom part of it into puffy wings. When the draw-string was pulled, the dress spread wide in front and back and only covered the sides of her legs, leaving her ass and sex on display. This clearly revealed the turquoise panties that matched the gown, much to Trin’s growing dismay.
The panties consisted of a tiny lace triangle which barely covered her pussy slit and a few lacy straps which went over her hips to hold it in place. They did their job poorly and the triangle kept twisting to one side or the other, exposing her in a most embarrassing way.
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, releasing the draw string so that the dress closed and she was covered. “It’s excessive even for Yonnie Six. I’m not walking around exposed all night. There—that’s better,” she added, looking at herself in the 3-D viewer. The top of her dress was still obscene but at least her ass and crotch were modestly covered now.
“Almost done? Reception in five,” Thrace called through the door.
“I know. I’m coming.” Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the fresher. “How do I look?”
Thrace frowned.
“Too covered up. You’re wearing the dress wrong—it’s supposed to be open. How can I get to your panties to kiss you otherwise?”
“I’m not wearing it open,” Trin said firmly. “It’s ridiculous to expect—”
Suddenly a sharp tapping sounded on the door. Trin exchanged glances with Thrace but before either of them could answer it, it burst open to reveal Lady Tam-tam, looking resplendent in an orange and purple mu-mu which swept to the floor and covered everything, which hardly seemed fair to Trin.
“My darlings,” she exclaimed, coming over to them. “Forgive the intrusion but I just remembered that I forgot to give you a new collar for your love-slave. And I promised you one so faithfully—I couldn’t go back on my word.”
“Of course, Lady Tam-tam, please come in,” Trin said, trying to smile. “I’m very grateful—I can’t wait to take the pain collar off Thrace and give him a new one.”
“Good. Here it is.” She withdrew a long, thin rectangular box from the folds of her voluminous gown and opened it, showing the contents to Trin. Inside was a black leather collar studded with pale silvery-blue gems.