To the Last Man I Slept with and All the Jerks Just Like Him (21 page)

“Aye, lass, there’s the plank at your back. Are you going to walk it, or stop your struggling and play nice with us?”

Her tears are whipped away toward the sea.

“But . . . but . . . Do you even
want
to play with me?” she says. “I’m not very pretty. My thighs . . . they’re so fat.”

The pirate captain laughs a wicked laugh. “Missy, my men here have been at sea for a long time. You’re as good looking as anything they can remember.”

Stephanie looks at him from under her lashes, still uncertain.

“I get second turn with the wench, after Captain Brad!” the First Mate yells. A fight breaks out among some of the others as the captain rips away what’s left of Stephanie’s corset with his bare hands.

“Hurry up, Flsyk. I don’t want to be late.” Ensign Crych paces near the door of the anteroom.

“Just a second . . . how’s my tie look?”

“What do you care? You’re not gonna get anywhere near the queen.”

“That’s what you think. After I do get my chance with her, she’s gonna remember my scent. I might even get a promotion out of it,” Ensign Flsyk says to his teammate and to his own reflection. “Dream on, beetlesucker. If you want a promotion so bad, why don’t you try servicing the captain?”

“Are you kidding me? I tried it two months ago. She nearly broke my thorax!”

“Whoa. Yeah, I heard that about her . . .” The hairs on Crych’s limbs ripple.

“Hey, Dr. Xot, what about you?” Flsyk yells into the lab. “You going to the Queen Fest?”

The doctor looks up from the print-out he’s been reading at the subject’s table. Is it Queen’s Festival Week already?

“Aw, he can’t hear you, Flsyk. He’s busy with
his
queen.”

“His queen . . . Yeah! Good one, Crych!”

The ensigns clack their mandibles loudly as they leave the anteroom. Dr. Xotcd goes back to his work.

Stephanie steps into the bath. The slave girl sprinkles the water with jasmine oil, the sheik’s favorite. He’s requested that his newest harem girl, the exotically fair and plump Stephanie, be ready within the hour.

“Stephanie?” the slave girl whispers.

“What is it, Xora?”

“Are you . . . are you happy here?”

Stephanie considers the question for a moment.

“Why, Xora? Are you thinking of escaping?”

Xora considers this question in her turn, then nods.

“Well . . . I hope you make it, because I can see how you’d probably hate being here. I’ll help you if I can. But . . . I don’t think I can leave with you. See . . . I don’t have anywhere to go, really. Plus, I don’t know . . . Call me an idiot if you want, but I don’t really mind this life. I mean, it’s not so bad. It could be worse. Sometimes I think the sheik actually kind of cares about me. You know?”

Dr. Xotcd remembers the humanoid farm he received as a hatchday gift from his parents one summer. He enjoyed putting little bits of sugar into the tunnels and watching the tiny brown and beige mammals overcoming barriers to find the food and carry it to their homes. Working within this single human subject’s mind is like that, but much more enthralling. This isn’t as real as a humanoid farm, because the barriers are all abstractions. And, yet, at the same time, it’s much more real than a colony of tiny animals could ever be.

This is what he’s thinking when his teammates troop into the lab.

“Bonus check, Dr. Xotcd. Congratulations,” says the captain as she hands him an envelope.

Ensigns Crych and Flsyk are already tearing theirs open.

“Yes. Goddess, YES!” says Flsyk upon seeing the amount.

“Hey, look . . . there’s a memo on the next project,” says Crych. “Scouts just got back from Earth. Our team is assigned to go pick up ten subjects. Whoa. That’s a lot. Wonder what they’re for? Not for Project Special Blend? I thought they were getting ready to synthesize this subject’s juices?” He waves a feeler in the direction of the human who’s been a permanent fixture in the lab since they got back from the last trip.

Flsyk scans his memo.

“Hey, maybe . . . maybe it’s for that new sports thing I heard about . . .”

“I have no such memo in my envelope,” Dr. Xotcd says to their captain. “Mine was accidentally omitted.”

“Actually, Doctor, that was no accident,” she says. “Your services won’t be necessary on this project. Dr. Thrstyk will accompany the team, instead.”

Thrstyk? That old-colony braggart? Dr. Xotcd waits until his haphazard emotions subside before speaking.

“What will my assignment be in the meantime?”

“Maintain the current course. I will meet with you before our departure, in two weeks, for a final briefing.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Xotcd keeps his antennae curved neutrally. He doesn’t want the captain to suspect that he’d relish this opportunity to delve further into his studies with the human.

“Baby, I love the way your eyes shine when I whip you,” Stephanie’s latest master says, dropping the whip and grasping her hair in his hands.

“Oh, Raul! I knew you felt the same way I did! Can we get out of the dungeon tonight? Just snuggle on the couch and watch TV? I’m so glad you love me like I love you. I’ve felt this way so many times, but it’s never been real before . . . never like this. I’m going to make you so happy. We’ll be happy together. . .”

Raul lets go of her hair. He takes a step back and fiddles with his executioner’s mask for a moment.

“Uh . . . What? Hold on. Uh . . . hold on, slave. I’ll be right back.”

Raul looks around the dungeon for a moment, then, suddenly, drops his whip and bolts up the stairs.

Stephanie stares at him. Her ropes hold her firmly in place, keeping her from reacting physically to the shock.

“What?” she whispers. “What did I do?”

Dr. Xotcd examines the monitors, then keys in a slight modulation to his code.

Passed on to a new master, Stephanie’s bitter but not yet totally pessimistic. Martin strides into the room, a cat-o-nine tails in his fist.

“On your knees, slut. Bow your head when your master speaks!”

“Yes, Master.”

“That’s right.”

After holding her head down for what feels like the appropriate amount of time, Stephanie lifts it again and says the words she’s been rehearsing in her mind all afternoon.

“Master Martin, I just want you to know that I have every intention of doing my part in this relationship. I know that you’re going to treat me badly. But, also, I know why you’re going to do it. You’ve never had a slave that really appreciated and supported your needs as a dom. I know that you’re just like me . . . you just want to be loved, and no one you’ve ever known has loved you the way you deserve. Until now. I’m willing to love you, Master Martin. And I’m going to accept your mistreatment, because I know it’s just your way of showing that you want to love me, too.”

Stephanie bows her head again. Master Martin is speechless for quite a while. Then:

“What the hell are you talking about, you crazy bitch? What the . . . Get the hell out of my dungeon!”

“What? But . . . I thought . . .” says Stephanie.

“I said get out!”

The tears well in her eyes again as she stumbles away.