Terran Times 18 - Emerald Envisage (36 page)

“We are no longer independent. We are no longer the Casians of Casiopea. We are the serfs of those immoral Taskians. They own us now.”

His mother walked over to him and lifted up his chin with her finger. “You stop this now, right away. Stop your brooding. You should be proud of your father for saving the planet and…”

“Selling my birthright?”

She released him and fell quiet.

“There will no longer be a supreme ruler. I won’t ever be Emperor. Father had his turn and I…and it wasn’t even my generation that polluted the damn place, it was…”

“Enough!” she snapped. “Get ready. We will make an appearance at the celebration and you will wear green.”

“No, I won’t,” he said and stalked out of the grand ballroom. After he’d marched around awhile, trying to let off steam, he sat on the side of the riverbank. He watched the waves roll across the jagged rocks. Already the water had begun to look clearer. It wasn’t his fault that Casiopea had become an environmental disgrace, why did he have to pay the price? Since he was born, Casians had lived
green
, his father having imposed great fines for any violations. Unfortunately, all efforts were in vain. It was already too late. People were getting sick from the environment, dying even, and severe weather changes had made the growing of produce impossible. The worst was the water supply. There was very little drinkable water left.

The Taskian’s lived on a nearby planet and had heeded the dire message of environmental disaster many centuries ago. They had cleaned up, gone
green
, and developed ways to cure their sick planet. As Casiopea deteriorated, they had become more and more dependent on the Taskian’s for everything, and now, it had come down to their very survival. Whether the Taskian’s were saviours or exploiters was completely dependent on one’s point of view. Baron believed them to be the later. They had rescued many other planets with their
green cure
, but there was a cost.

Each planet they
saved
had to join the planetary coalition. It meant that Casiopea was now part of a larger democracy, a union, and they would have a counsel made up of strangers from a multitude of places. It was absolutely ridiculous, a bunch of lowly men of common birth, foreigners, deciding what was best for his planet. He was supposed to be the next Emperor of Casiopea, now thanks to those immoral Taskian’s, who he’d read were sexual degenerates, his destiny had been obliterated. There would be no more Emperor.

Baron jumped up from where he was sitting and ran back to his room. He dragged an old black coat out of the cupboard and put it on, slipping the large hood over his head. All in black, with a hood to boot. Ha! He’d show them.

* * * *

“What are we going to do?” Baron’s mother, Samantha, asked her husband.

He was deep in thought, absently buttoning up the green robe he had had made especially for the occasion. “He can’t be serious, wearing black to the event. He is an integral part of the welcoming committee. If the Taskian’s suspect that we are hesitant or there is resistance, they could withdraw their…”

“I know,” Samantha sighed. “But you know your son.”

Suddenly, Carolos caught sight of the dark-hooded figure walking past his room. He flew out his door and grabbed the figure by the arm. “Baron! Where do you think you’re going?”

* * * *

Baron met his father’s eyes. Right now, the sight of his father sickened him. “You’re a coward,” he lashed out. “You have sold your planet’s independence, and cheated me out of my birthright. You’re a traitor.”

His father’s mouth tightened. “How dare you speak to me in this manner? I am no traitor. Times have changed. Most planets are members of the interplanetary—”

“Yes, and now we, too, will be ruled by Taskian’s who are nothing but degenerate, scum of the earth, exploiters and…and…sexual deviants and…”

“Is that so?” a smooth, male voice said suddenly.

Baron and his father turned around to see a man standing there. He was stunningly beautiful. His raven black hair waved back off his classically chiselled features and complimented his huge brown eyes. He was tall and well muscled, dressed in what Baron could only describe as a formfitting body suit in hunter green and a black cloak, which hung down almost to the floor. He wore brown boots, which laced down the sides and flared out over his knees.

“Ahm Mr. ah…Spencer,” Baron’s father sputtered. “I apologise for my son’s…”

“You don’t need to apologise for me,” Baron interrupted. “I’m not about to change my opinion.” Baron shifted his attention from his father to the stranger. “Who in hell are you anyway?”

“I am Derek, Derek Spencer.” He inclined his head a little.

Baron shifted his weight slightly. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful, and he couldn’t help but notice that his body was superb, ripples and waves in all the right places, not to mention that the material of that suit had to be extra reinforced in the crotch area because the Gods had been more than generous to Derek Spencer. “And what is your job, Mr. Spencer?” Baron gave him a smirk. “Are you here to make sure we all obey your every command?”

“Would you like that?” he asked, meeting his gaze.

Baron blushed and looked away.

“Actually, we do need your cooperation, Baron. My job is to ensure we get it. Now,” he glanced at Baron’s father, “you can leave us.”

Without another word, Baron’s father left the room.

“Great,” Baron threw up his hands. “You have him so brainwashed, he won’t even stick around to defend his own son.”

“Your father is aware of what is at stake.”

“I don’t think so. He’s sold my birthright—”

He raised his hand. “Now, Baron,” he said, deepening his voice, “unfortunately, we can’t have you showing up at the ceremony dressed like that.”

The look in his eyes was meaningful and Baron felt himself start to shake. “Well, you can’t—”

“But we can,” he said. “Guards,” he called, “take him below.”

Before Baron could even register what was happening, hands reached out to seize him.

Baron expected to be in some kind of a prison cell, but instead he found himself lying prone on a very comfortable bed, legs spread, blindfolded. It also felt as if he was naked. When he tried to move his limbs, he couldn’t. His ankles were caught by something and so were his wrists, bound together and attached to something over his head. “Help,” he cried out, but his voice echoed around the room.

“You might as well save your lungs,” a voice told him. “This room is soundproof.”

“Mr. Spencer, I presume.” He recognized that deep, male voice, smooth, cocky and…highly seductive.

“You would be correct. I trust that you are comfortable, Baron.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Tell me about yourself.”

“Am I naked?”

“Yes, you are. Are you bashful?”

Baron sucked in some breath. “What…what are you ah…planning to—”

“All in good time,” he said. “Now, tell me about yourself.”

“What do you…will you let me go if—”

“No.”

“Then why in hell should I tell you anything?”

“You are getting angry again.”

Baron pulled against the constraints.

“Very sexy when you do that. You do realise that you’re hard.”

“Shit,” Baron sputtered.

A low, sultry laugh.

“Don’t touch me.”

“What gives you the impression that I intend to touch you?”

“I know all about…I’ve read the literature, seen magazines from your planet and…”

“And?”

“There are no limits…no…well…rules around sex.”

“And that intrigues you, doesn’t it, Baron?”

“No. It disgusts me.”

“I don’t think so. How old are you?”

“I’m, ah…old enough to know about stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“What you intend to do to my planet and—”

“We are saving your planet and making you apart of the coalition. You will have protection, and—”

“And will have to abide by your rules.”

“The rules of the coalition, which is a democracy, rather than a dictatorship.”

“I am your prisoner.”

“That is a misfortune, but we are at a fragile point in the process. We cannot have dissention.”

“You are the dictator.”

He laughed. “I understand your displeasure.”

Baron felt a hand land on his upper thigh. “Get away,” he said.

“You are only upset because you were to become Emperor on your twentieth birthday, less than three months from now. It is very selfish of you to put yourself above your planet.”

The hand moved upward, and hovered dangerously close to his cock. Baron swallowed. His cock throbbed. “What are you…”

“This is the way we show discipline, especially with hot headed young men who are easily sexually stimulated.”

“I am not…” The hand covered his erection and he let out a long, involuntary moan.

“You are not…what?”

A gentle squeeze.

Baron gasped as he felt the hand stand his cock up straight. The hand moved it to and fro a few times, then cuffed it lightly with the other hand. “Oh…ah…God,” he stammered, running a tongue over his lips. The hand cuffed it harder. It throbbed.

One hand began to fondle it roughly, handle his balls, while the other smoothed over his stomach and up to his chest. “No, don’t…” he pleaded. His nipples were especially sensitive and, the first time the palm brushed the nub, he hissed.

“You like nipple play, do you?”

“No, I…don’t….”

The other hand left his cock and moved up to his nipple. Both hands now slowly, teasingly brushed his nipples, then moved away, waiting, then brushed them again. “I plan to slowly torment them, Baron. Ever had those little tits clamped?”

“Um…no, don’t.”

He laughed again, taking each nipple between his thumb and forefinger and twisting them, at first lightly, then with more pressure. Suddenly there was only one nipple being pinched, then he felt the metal teeth compress it. “Ow,” he wailed at the same time he moaned and squirmed a little.

“Does it hurt, Baron?”

“Yes, damnit.” He licked his lips. Pleasure and pain mingling to create something he’d never experienced before. The metal teeth grasped the other nipple. Baron lifted his chest, feeling feather light chains sliding over his chest.

“Very sexy. I know this is what you want. This is what I can give you on the condition that you cooperate.” Lips suddenly pressed lightly against his, a hand snaked down his belly and began to handle his cock again.

 
He didn’t have time to think about the words this man was saying. He could only feel, and with the blindfold, those feelings were heightened considerably. Now a hand moved over his balls, massaging, causing him to moan inwardly. A finger dipped lower and found his anus. His entire body jolted when he felt the finger move over the puckered entrance. “You…can’t…” he breathed.

“Oh, but I can,” he said softly. “And I will. Tonight, I will show you pleasures you have never known. We have plenty of time before the ceremony, an entire three hours. Can you imagine what I can do to your body in three hours?”

He licked his lips again as felt the nipple clamps being touched, then played with, causing that intense feeling of pain peppered with pleasure to surge through his body. His cock jolted and that finger touched his anus again, moving around in a circular motion, then moving away. Baron felt his breathing grow shallow.

“First I need to grease your hole, then I’m going to dilate it, open it up to me, open it up to a variety of toys, then finally, my cock.

He was afraid suddenly. “No, please,” he pleaded. “I…”

“Oh you will plead, but for more and more.”

Suddenly the fragrance of honey invaded his nostrils. A slippery finger touched his anus again, then one leg was released, only to be reattached above him. He struggled as he felt a hand drag his other leg upward also. “Hey, you…”

“You are so exposed,” he said, “your legs spread, your balls and cock on display, and also your anus. I can see it, I have full access to it. I plan to take my time.”

Embarrassment. He was sure his body was flush with it. He felt so vulnerable. Anyone could do anything to him and he was powerless to…umm…yeah…powerless…it was so…sexy. The finger began to play, dipping inside of him, invading him, then two, then three, slick and oily, sliding in and out of his ass. He let out a cry, his cock pulsing, then felt a thick strap fold around his balls and cock.

“This is to stop you from coming. You can’t come yet,” the voice said.

More delicious confinement.

“After I fuck your ass, I’m going to fuck your face,” the voice told him.

“I…won’t do that. I am the Emperor’s son.”

“Not tonight…and not any night. You are my sex slave, and based on your reaction, you will probably go on being my sex slave.”