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I sat on my side of the small little cell, and I felt like crying. I didn't, of course, because I was too old for that. And besides, my little brother would become depressed if I fell apart. So I didn't, and instead watched him sleeping.
When Earth had started its war with Vulcan, we were sure to be on the right side - and the winning one, too. I still believed the first, but unfortunately we were the victims of the second. It's Vulcan custom that the winners take the sons of the losers' leaders with them as hostages. Somehow this antiquated custom fits, as the Vulcans look like devilish space barbarians with their long hair and pointed ears, and their short pants and open vests which hid almost nothing of their well-trained bodies, adding up to an overall appearance of very male men. Earth had yet to see a Vulcan female, and we began to suspect they didn't even exist. There was so little we effectively knew about these people.
Well, we soon would know more. It'd been four days now that they had gathered us in flocks like sheep before they'd distributed us to the various clans. At that time I'd been glad that the clan Talek-sen-deen had chosen us both, and I could stay with Jim. I wasn't that sure anymore.
Yesterday they'd us taken out for the first time, allowed us a sonic shower and finally led us to a training hall. They'd ordered us to fight against each other with one of the unusual weapons Vulcans had, a lirpa it was called. One side held a blade; the other one something like a bludgeon so that one could cut or beat. A nasty thing, and we had a hard time avoiding injuries. Then suddenly it was over, and we were brought back to our cell.
My brother stirred, and I felt concern rising again. They'd watched all our movements - he had watched. Sarek, the leader of this clan, whose eyes gave me chills. And the one he watched more was Jim. Heck, I knew my brother was the cuter one, and the better fighter. His muscles are well-trained, and his ass…even Aurelan had found it great.
I shook my head, trying to get her picture out of my mind. It hurt like hell to think of her. Once more, my tears threatened to break free. Almost as bad as remembering mom's panic when we were taken away. Guess she'd been lucky they hadn't killed her during her outburst. It would have made a terrible situation even more terrible for us.
The door opened, and a guard stepped in, gesturing for me to stand up. He threw a long cloak over me and pulled its hood over my head, which made it impossible to see more than his boots and the piece of floor I stepped on. Only the knowledge that everyone on the ship but the warriors was wearing the same clothing relaxed me - this was not intended to humiliate a Human prisoner. They probably knew as little about us as we knew about them, I thought as I followed the black boots to an unknown destination.
*
The room I was led into was so dimly lit that I could only guess what was inside even as I slightly pulled the hood away from my eyes. I was standing in an anteroom with small lights of technical equipment in weird contrast to a shiny blade of a sword that had caught the light for a moment as the door opened and closed. In the rear, a small red light illuminated something like a bed.
"Come closer," someone said with a rough accent. I cautiously walked forward, half expecting to fall over some furnishings.
"No fear," the voice added as I reached the walk-through to the rear room. A figure lay on the bed, the red light just enough to see its outline. But I guessed already who it was - there was only one man on this ship who could summon me to him like this.
The figure moved slightly, and the light increased. It was Sarek, and he was totally naked, his body shining in the sensual illumination. Lying on his side propped up on his right arm, one leg stretched, the other bent with his knee pointing to the ceiling, he looked like a Greek god. Even more so as I realized that his free hand was moving in the region of his groin. There'd never been anything more homoerotic than Greeks.
I remained at the doorway in silence, unsure what to do. My throat was tightening as the silence in the room deepened; the Vulcan's only movement being the leisurely strokes he gave his erect member. Sweat began to flow down my forehead and neck as the warmth in the room added to the warmth of the cloak. Clenching my teeth I tried to fight down the tension I felt, like a lamb eye-to-eye with the tiger. I wanted neither the fight nor flight reaction, as I had none of those options anyway. All I could do was to wait.
*
He let me stand for a long while, and if this was a test of some kind, I had to pass. Not knowing if looking away or looking at him would be the major insult, I averted my eyes to a spot in front of the bed. But once in a while I couldn't help stealing a glance at him and the fascinating picture he presented. His erection had bloomed to an impressive length, though not as long as rumors on Earth had made Vulcan dicks. And something inside of me stirred sympathetically.
I swallowed hard. I had some experiences with men - or rather, with fellow teenage boys in the shower room. But this was something completely different. I was this man's prisoner, and he could abuse me anytime. Maybe this was his goal anyway; but why then did he set up a scene that looked like it was out of "Seduction No.12 "?
Despite the heat I began to shiver as tiredness, fearful tension, and arousal added up to a weird mixture. I wanted to get back to Jim, lie down and sleep forever. I wanted to get out of here. I wanted Sarek to do something - anything. Anything was better than waiting here like this. If he wouldn't move now, I -
"Come closer."
I automatically stepped forward and dropped onto my knees in front of his bed, meeting his eyes for a second before looking away again.
His hand left his dick and reached for the hood, pulling it away. Fingers stroked through my hair, pulling playfully at its curls. Then they wandered to my ears, stroking the lobe for a moment before sliding down to the side of my neck. I held my breath, wondering what the Vulcan was up to.
"Look at me."
I obeyed and met his eyes that looked pitch black in the little light. They stared at me, drinking me in. Breath left me as his hand pulled away the cloak, leaving me only in my thin clothes I'd been wearing for six days. I felt incredibly naked as his eyes traveled down my body and finally locked at my groin.
Sarek tapped at it with one fingertip, much more cautiously than I would have imagined him to be.
"I have chosen you," he then stated simply. I closed my eyes, fully knowing what he meant. He could take me with or without my consent. And a small part of me felt honored that, for once, I was chosen over Jim, who usually was the more successful one with every gender. My conscience hastily pushed the thought away. This wasn't the right moment to compare my former love life to…this.
Fingers dug into my dick under the fabric and stroked it into full arousal.
*
It was somehow easy to get turned on. I wanted to have fun. I needed to have it, although I felt like a damnable whore inside. It'd be worse if it hurt physically, too. I let Sarek take me on a ride. His hands seemed to be all over me, stimulating me into abandon. And in the end he made me come like no one else ever had, a shocking, unexpected, hot wave rushing through me. I sobbed in delicious frenzy; so I was the slut I'd always feared to be. Hard to face the truth.
He kept on fucking, still hard as a pole inside of me. Pleasure turned into a bit of pain as he rammed inside harder now. His hands clamped around my hips and pulled and dug into them. His breathing got harsher and I was begging him to come. With a roar he climaxed, and liquid poured into my bowels, liters, by the feel of it.
I tumbled to the toilet corner as he slipped out of me, my pants dangling around my knees. He hadn't even undressed me. Squatting down I shut my eyes and put my hands over my ears while my inside seemed to turn upside down. I didn't want to hear his triumph, see his satiation. I felt totally disconnected from myself. Did I like it or not? Did I hate him or not? He hadn't used any force to convince me. But I wouldn't let him fuck me if I didn't know the alternatives. And I hated pain… Lord.
Steps closed in, and I looked up. Sarek was aroused again, and as his fingers crawled through my hair I knew what he wanted. I opened my mouth and took him in, tasting his alien cum and some other stuff I'd rather not think about. My gag reflex threatened to set in as he pushed deeper, but then he slowed his pace. And so I gave him a blow-job, all the while sitting on that uncomfortable toilet and shitting like hell. It was totally sick. And I was getting totally turned on once more. I would never be the same again.
*
Sarek didn't send me back to the room I had shared with Jim, not heading my pleas. He had something else in mind with my brother, he told me, and I had to live with that little piece of information. The room I was given was more comfortable than our cell and equipped with a decent shower, but the door was just as locked.
The next day a servant came, clad in wide, dark, sack-like clothes. He was there to dress me for our arrival on Vulcan, and soon I watched my transformation in the mirror he had brought along. On my upper body, the first layer was like a shirt, but then a quilted jacked was put over the shirt and laced up in the back to effectively tie my upper arms to my sides. Its high, stiff collar closed around my neck as if built for it, and I wondered if anyone had measured me.
The long pants looked wide at first, almost like harem pants, but when the servant knelt down, I found there were hidden buckles that connected the trouser legs. My feet remained bare, just as my head where the servant smeared something shiny into my hair, probably to make the dark blond look better. The last touch, he gave my eyelids and lips, covering them with light green makeup.
I looked into the mirror again, realizing I was becoming a puppet on invisible strings, made to show off as a prized possession. And my only purpose was for decoration or sexual pleasure. The jacket's dark blue, decorated with silvery ornaments, stood in stark contrast to the white pants and my shimmering golden hair, which made me look all the more like a porcelain figurine, completely unreal.
Clenching my shoulders I challenged the material, but it held. I made a step, and panic hit me for a moment as I learned just how small the steps would be in this outfit. No way to run, no way to defend myself. Not that I really had thought this option over; I could imagine Sarek's reactions to disobedience all too well.
I kept staring at the result of the transmutation, forgetting about the servant who had already left. Finally testing my limits, I walked around, fighting for balance. My lower arms and hands were of little use, just enough to drink or eat. Even going to a toilet would be impossible like this. It was bondage equipment like out of John Willies' 21st century world. He would have loved it. My fascination was rather limited and decreased further as a guard let me out into the corridor. I followed him, embarrassed, staring at the floor in the knowledge that this was only the beginning.
*
Sarek's return was a success, and I was shown off just as I had feared. Fortunately, though, no one else was allowed to lay hand on me. I was truly his possession, and so far protected from any other claims. Kneeling on the low table at his side I peered around and saw several other members of alien races. They wore similar outfits to mine, and I assumed them to be other victims of lost wars. They stood as silent as I was, while the Vulcans, clad in barely more than a few stripes of probably costly fabric, chatted and ate and drank. There was no sign of Jim anywhere.
Trying to be as unobtrusive as possible I ate little and drank even less, taking the unusually formed, long-stemmed glass to my lips slowly as not to spill any of the flaming red liquid onto my pants. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Sarek's gaze traveling over me from time to time, and I half feared, half looked forward to what would very likely happen tonight.
The party ended late, and my bladder already threatened to burst. Following Sarek's order I walked behind him, having a hard time keeping up with his pace. Finally he waited for me at an ornamental, round-edged door, locking it behind me.
I turned around and wanted to warn him that I needed to pee, but he wordlessly bent me over a higher table and held my chest down with one hand while opening the buckles with the other. I felt cooler air on my ass as the material slipped to the side. My arms were locked between my body and the table; I felt totally helpless - and terribly aroused. There was no foreplay as he slowly entered me, and I inhaled sharply on the initial tightness. But there was something like lubrication, and so Sarek's dick slipped in to the hilt without further problems. There he just remained for a moment, motionless.
Feeling his hard dick on my prostate added to the incredible pressure in my abdomen, and as he finally began to move I just couldn't help it. Convulsing I spilled out the warm liquid which was instantly soaked up by my pants, making the material cling to my groin and thighs. He totally ignored it, keeping his rhythm, and his determination dispelled the wave of shame I had felt for a moment. My dick twitched, and he reached around my hips, stroking my shaft through the wet fabric.
I shouted against the tabletop as I came.
*
Over the next days, I got to know my surroundings better, and tried to talk to some of the other aliens that lived in the household, but most of them knew only their own language or Vulcan, and my Vulcan was still almost inexistent.
Only a blue being with antennas, who introduced himself as Andorian, spoke some Earth Standard, but never seemed inclined to tell me how he knew it. Thras' father had been the leader of the belligerent Marth clan who had lost a major battle against the Talek-sen-deen about seven years ago. The Andorian seemed fairly well adjusted to his status of osh've, as the hostages were called, and looked self-assured and upright despite the confining dress. His white hair was long and braided, as his protector W'akh, one of Sarek's warriors, preferred it.
"You can have a good life in this clan as long as you follow the rules," he said, gracefully sipping some saya as we sat in the garden.
"Maybe," I said sadly. "I know that *I* have a fairly good life at the moment, but I still know nothing about my little brother."
He peered at me, holding the glass between his both hands. "How old is your brother?"
"Sixteen-and-half," I said. His antennas twitched, which I found fascinating. I stared at the movement, almost not hearing his words.
"There are rumors," he said, "about Spock's second passing, his Qst'wan."
"Who is Spock?" I asked blankly.
"Sarek's son. He has not been seen for a while, and is about the same age."
I met his eyes, my lips suddenly dry. "Do you think he's…doing something to Jim?"
He put the glass down and stood up in a fluid movement. "I know nothing. But if I were you, I would consider my own fate, too."
"What do you mean?"
His antennas bent forward, and I felt as if they were staring at me. "Nobody has ever remained Sarek's favorite forever."
"I guessed that much," I mumbled. I looked up at him, the tight collar instantly cutting into my neck. The discomfort must have shown on my face, as he sympathetically said, "After a while, it will become a part of you."
I watched him as he walked away in delicate steps, hoping I would never arrive at that point.
*
I learned more from Thras over the following days; for example, that the Vulcan females lived their very own lives apart from the warrior world and only the biological cycle every seven years forced the men to meet their wives at appointed places to produce new children. The sons came to the men's house at the age of eight - from there on they were schooled in the art of war as well as in engineering and computer science.
It was somehow impossible for me to combine the idea of war and technology as equal parts in a Vulcan's life; maybe we Humans were too limited in our mental abilities to study both fields at the same time. But it resulted in a very successful, space-faring Vulcan army, which was built from the various clans that were organized in Houses - a structure that astonished me too, as on Earth, every highly developed culture had given up on the clan idea. Well, maybe only on the surface, as I seriously pondered influential families at my time - the Kirks included, as my very stay on this desert planet proved.
But it was Sarek personally who introduced me to some basic rules of the household and for osh'vej specifically. We had no duties besides being obedient, and little rights besides being fucked, as I saw it. My criticism remained unvoiced, though, as the possible punishments didn't sound all that inviting and were steadily delivered to those who trespassed.
It was a quite common scene to see a figure wrapped in black and tightly bound standing in the punishment corner in the main entrance hall, and whoever came across it had to give it a lash with the whip that hung nearby. At first I was shocked, but then I got used to it, fighting down the bad taste in my mouth. Vulcan was a harsh place for everybody, and just a little bit harsher for some of us.
*
Days became weeks and there still wasn't any sign of Jim. I dared ask Sarek only once more for his whereabouts, but earning nothing but silence I dropped the topic. For all his basic knowledge of Humans, Sarek seemed totally oblivious of our deeper emotional needs. He lived within his own frame of reference, and I was put into it to fit. As I had little alternatives, I accepted my fate for the time being.
Everything changed, though, in the night where we all went out into the desert. Walking behind Sarek and other clan members I glanced at the menhirs that surrounded the round place that obviously was our goal. At the edge of the circle, there were man-high torches that illuminated the area and the members of the clan assembled between the stones, totally quiet. Overhead, there was Vulcan's sister planet hanging in the sky as a deep red disc, threatening to fall down any second.
The whole scenario was surreal, and I half expected to hear some drums and see King Kong appear, summoned by the wild natives. Many of the Vulcans had braided their long hair into various elaborate constructions that towered on their heads, leaving the pointed ears pronounced. Barely clothed with only bits and pieces of green and light-brown fabrics, their obviously oiled skin shimmered in the light as Sarek's had done our first night together. The few present osh'vej all wore dark grey, telling us that we were only tolerated staff tonight. Whatever was to happen, it was thoroughly Vulcan.
As everyone had settled in, the warriors standing, the osh'vej kneeling at their feet, Sarek himself stepped into the middle of the place to sound the gong that was hanging there. After a short, for me incomprehensible speech, which the Vulcans acknowledged various times in between with some formula, he came back to stand next to me. I settled for the wait by slightly leaning on the stone at my side, wishing Thras was here to explain the ritual.
*
At first I only saw that the Vulcans all stared at one special side of the place, and wondered if their eyesight was so much better than mine. Then suddenly I saw the figure too - a humanoid, painted in shining white with several dark brown ornaments which optimally showed off the well-trained body, and on his face a mask so alien I blinked. Above it, lighter, short hair stood up, and suddenly I knew this was Jim. In his hand there was a lirpa, and he turned it expertly, making the half-moon blade shimmer in the firelight. He fit perfectly into the scene. But where was his opponent?
As if he had heard me, another figure appeared at the opposite side of the place, the body painted white with light-green ornaments. The mask on his face was exaggerated Vulcan, with very long scanting eyebrows and oversized pointed ears. This had to be the fight of Planet Vulcan against The Alien, I figured out, and clenched my hands tightly as fear took hold of me. Knowing the Vulcan lifestyle, this wouldn't be a played scene. Both lirpas were sharp and their users handled them with knowledge as they began to circle each other along the edge of the ritual place.
I watched Jim's every movement as he came along our side, finding him to be in his best condition. They had to have trained him for this night. He was oblivious of my nearness, fully concentrating on his opponent whom I eyed as he passed us shortly after. The Vulcan was lean and slim, appearing almost weak against Jim's sturdy body. But I knew already that Vulcan muscles had a higher density than Human ones, and he would be able to kill Jim with one blow. This fight wasn't fair, I thought, clenching my teeth.
But even I had underestimated Jim as they finally began to fight for real. He struck quickly and determined, adjusting his reactions to his opponent's behavior without effort. I was terribly proud of him as he drew a first green line over the Vulcan's chest with his blade, and it wasn't his last successful strike. But the longer the fight went on, the more the Vulcan gained ground. Unable to avert my gaze from the unfolding drama I watched Jim's slackening stance as he reached the end of his endurance; the high gravity and thin air costing him his victory. No, this wasn't a fair fight. But in the Vulcan vocabulary, the word fairness didn't exist.
*
The outcome was predictable, and my nails pierced into my hands as Jim lay on the ground on his back, his arms sagged to the side in obvious surrender and the Vulcan's blade right above his throat. Fearing he would kill him I almost stopped breathing, but then the Vulcan pulled him up toward the gong and strapped him, chest down, on a rectangular stone. For a moment he stood dangerously close behind Jim, right between his legs; then he turned to face us and said some guttural words toward the group.
I felt Sarek standing up, the air dancing over my naked lower arm as he passed me. He moved over and I stopped breathing for real as he pulled out his hard member and entered Jim without hesitation. I forced down the cry of disgust, the burning need to get up and get Sarek away from him…but I would be no help if I tried. Sarek had warned me before that any disturbances could mean instant death. So all I could do was screw my eyes shut to avoid watching it. Jim…Lord…
I kept them closed for a while, but the ritual took a long time. Whenever I peaked, someone else accepted that…gift. I guessed that's what it was supposed to be. An initiation rite at the cost of my brother. At least they took him almost carefully, as if not to damage his body. But I knew they were damaging him enough…inside.
Jim appeared totally frozen. A rock would have shown more life, and for a while I feared he was dead. But when it was over, the Vulcan pulled him up and he stood, shaking, but he stood. The mask was still in place as the Vulcan took him into his arms and vanished into the darkness. I jumped up.
"Stay." A single word - an order so clear, I didn't dare to move. Sarek faced me, his penis still erect and wet. I felt like screaming all my hate and pain into his face. With sheer effort I managed to ask in an almost normal voice. "Why didn't you warn me?"
He looked at me coldly, and suddenly I knew the answer - it was his way of showing me how far his caring for me went, and where the limits were. I might be his favorite plaything, but nothing more.
"Come with me," he said, and began to walk down the small hill.
I stood straight, my anger like a fire in my stomach. "You have to force me."
And he did.
*
I woke up with my tied hands gone to sleep in their chains that connected me to his bed. Sarek was lying next to me. He'd gotten me turned on last night, and then he had ignored me, leaving me in an almost painfully aroused state. He was such a sadistic bastard. And he was terribly good at it.
Finding him watching me, I hastily closed my eyes again. His fingers began to crawl over my dick, and I got hard. I just couldn't help getting hard under his touch. And I despised myself again - here I was with the abductor and rapist of my brother, and had fun? I was sick. I was the sickest person in the universe.
"Stop touching me," I moaned at him. Why couldn't he just rape me, too? Fuck me, Sarek, ram yourself inside me and feed the hatred into my very core of existence, I prayed silently. But instead he played with my glans, rubbing oily liquid over and into it. In the end I just couldn't help it. Choked, I bucked into his hand that tightly lay around my dick, and half my sobs were for Jim.
*
It took another fortnight before I saw Jim again. But at Sarek's morning meals, at which the most important members of the clan traditionally met, there was no chance to talk to him as he knelt down beside Spock. He was clad in yellow and white with blue on his lips and eyelids. Our eyes briefly met, but then he avoided my gaze. And maybe it was better, I thought, as I found myself close to tears - an emotional outbreak that could only result in some punishment for me, or worse, both of us.
Trying hard not to look at Jim's pale face I instead looked at Spock out of the corner of my eye, Sarek's son whom I had only seen at the ritual which was his passing to full warrior status. Jim being Spock's osh've was an idea that was hard to face, knowing that Jim craved freedom much more than I had. Half his youth was spent with adventures that had brought our parents close to cracking up and me feeling inadequate compared to him. He would have had a fabulous career on Earth. No way I could imagine him as anyone's compliant…bed slave.
But there was Jim at Spock's side, sipping at his tea cautiously. The osh'vej' existence at the morning meetings was merely for decoration, as we couldn't really serve in a serious function with our restrictive clothing. And this was exactly what Spock had brought him for today, and I saw the glances he gave Jim, checking on his conduct. Spock himself was considerably slimmer than the other Vulcans and didn't move in the easy, self-assured way of the elder clan members. In fact, he very much looked like any gawky teenager I'd seen in my life. Unfortunately, this young Vulcan held Jim's well-being in his hands now. I could only hope it would work out.
In the end of the meal, the two stayed after all others were gone. I didn't know if the Vulcans had planned our meeting, but father and son stood up and went into Sarek's bedroom, leaving us behind without another word. Jim and I remained kneeling at the table in awkward silence while two servants cleaned the dishes and food away. Only when they were finally gone we dared to look at each other. I cleared my throat.
"Jim," I managed to say, barely a whisper.
"Sam," he whispered back, his voice rough.
"How is it?" I asked.
"Fine," he said.
"Really?"
"Yeah." He didn't lie well, but I couldn't press the topic as the Vulcans came back. Moments later, Jim was out of my reach again. And it remained that way for a while.
*
In silent rebellion I began strolling around the complex in those nights when Sarek didn't call for me, only clad in the black cloak. I knew I wasn't supposed to be outside my room without the t'vesa, the confining clothes of an osh've, but I just needed to move my limbs free and unrestricted once in a while.
It went well for more than two weeks, but then the guards caught me. And although I somehow hadn't seen my transgression as being that grave, I learned to regret my misunderstanding as the officer called Sarek on the vidscreen, The Vulcan's anger at their report was easily detectable, and he coldly ordered them to handle me like any other disobedient osh've.
My stomach tightened as they pulled the cloak tightly around me and bound me into it. Only my naked feet were outside of the wrapped package I had become, and images of bastinado crossed my mind. Seconds later I wished it were that, as they shifted me around and held my feet into something hot and liquid. Etching into my skin it seemed to burn them away, and I cried out. Shaking and twitching I tried to get me feet out of that corrosive bath, but the guards held me - I don't remember for how long. In the end they carried me back to my room, laying me on my bed without loosening the ties.
It was my servant who freed me in the morning, and all my limbs were numb expect my feet which still felt like they were on fire. The skin had developed a dark red rash with several larger blisters, and the slightest touch hurt terribly. Barely able to walk I tumbled to the bathroom and sank down into the tub, bathing the feet in cool water.
It was a short relief, as I learned that I was not only supposed to suffer without any treatment, but to join Sarek at his morning meal. And so I ended clad in my cage of fabric with the feet revealing to all that I had overstepped one of the basic rules of the household. Maybe it was only my imagination that everyone turned his head as I unsteadily walked into Sarek's chamber where about a dozen people already sat around the table. Jim was there, too, lowering his gaze hastily to the floor to spare me further embarrassment. At least I hoped that was the reason.
The feet took eight days to heal. I never snuck around at night again.
*
After this punishment, I tried hard to learn the finer points of the clan's rules, and so I finally managed to meet Jim more often in the garden. There we would seek a hidden corner, stealing some precious minutes from Spock who was closely monitoring him, and talk about…precious little. Only once Jim mentioned the time of our separation, and I pretended not to have witnessed the Qst'wan ritual. It never became a topic of discussion again. He also rarely spoke about Spock, but I knew that they didn't get along well, which fully met my expectations.
Tonight we had the chance to leave Sarek's table earlier as the Vulcans had to discuss politics away from the ears of any listener, and so we went into the garden to cool down, our t'vesa jackets soaked with sweat from the day's heat.
Jim, who had been more than obsequious tonight, sat down at a stone bench and heavily leaned back at the wall, hands folded in his lap.
"What's the matter, Jim?" I asked as I sat down beside him, leaning forward to place one hand upon his folded ones.
"Sarek…he came to Spock's rooms late last night. I pretended to be asleep, and so I could watch…how he used Spock for his pleasure." Jim's voice died in utter disgust.
I shrugged, not at all surprised. "Sarek is the alpha male here. He can probably fuck anyone."
"It's just so sick. I mean, it's his son."
"And now you feel sorry for Spock and think he can behave as he wants because he's a poor abused child?" I laughed roughly. "Forget it, Jim. For all I know, if Sarek comes to him like that, it's a reward. You know, feeding the sperm of power to your heir or something. And this was probably the umpteenth time Sarek has done that. You remember your first morning meal?"
Jim looked unconvinced, and so I added caustically, "Or did Spock look unhappy in any way?"
"He wouldn't show it even if he was," he mumbled, and I felt a little bit sorry for spoiling Jim's picture of his protector. Maybe Jim would get along with Spock better if he felt they were both victims. But the simple idea made me angry - Sarek's son was a part and a beneficiary of the system. Sometimes Jim was such a naïve kid. "I rather spare my pity for someone who deserves it," I said aloud.
"Like me, you mean?" Jim replied harshly and stood up. Slightly bending his chest as the collar didn't allow for much movement he gave me a blazing gaze. "I'm fine - and I need to go."
"Jim, damn." I staggered to my feet, almost losing my balance in my haste. But he was already shuffling away, quick small steps down the corridor. I felt seldom more tied as I did then, where this outfit and the rules of this house made it impossible for me to move anything, including myself.
*
I hadn't realized how far the conflict between Jim and his protector had already developed until two days later, where I walked down the hall to see another wrapped figure in the punishment corner. I reached for the whip automatically as I passed it, but just as I raised my hand, I saw Spock standing at the other side of the hall. Meeting his eyes I suddenly realized that this trespasser had to be Jim.
I dropped the whip, shocked about my own thoughtless behavior - did I only mind beating my brother, whereas in former times any idea of delivering corporal punishment would have nauseated me? I was becoming a part of the system, and it made me sick.
My newfound determination was challenged as Spock crossed the hall and faced me.
"You will beat him," he ordered.
"No," I replied sharply.
He came closer, staring me down. "You see how disobedience is treated, Human. And do not think Sarek would stand up to save you."
"I do not care," I said. "I will not be your helper any longer."
People began crowding the other doorways out of nowhere, watching our test of strength. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Thras, and he shook his head as far as the collar of his jacket allowed. But I didn't care.
Spock saw the watchers too, and his jaw tightened ever so slightly. "You will beat him. If not so, you will taste this punishment yourself."
Clenching my teeth I remained standing motionless.
Snapping his fingers, Spock summoned four guards. Within seconds, I was put fully dressed into a black sack and bound into a package with only my feet free. Brief panic flooded me as the memory of my first received punishment came back. But once again I had underestimated the Vulcans - they simply tied my ankles together and hung me upside down, pushing my body into a swinging movement. Clenching my teeth I fought against the nausea that made me almost throw up. But the real thing started when the whipping began.
*
When they let me down again, I couldn't really walk with my feet totally numb and the sinews hurting terribly. The jacket had damped some of the whip's impact, protecting the more vulnerable body parts, but my legs and ass felt like they were on fire, the pain making me tremble with the adrenaline overflow. The guards nevertheless turned me toward Jim's wrapped body that still hung there, supporting me with their Vulcan strength.
Someone pressed something into my hand - the whip I had dropped some hours ago. My hand clenched around it; I would love to throw it into their faces, but I couldn't stand any more whipping. I hated pain. I've always hated it.
"Beat him."
I looked up with blood-shot eyes and would have laughed if I had energy left to do that. As it was, I met Spock's eyes in disbelief.
The incoming whiplash made me buckle, but they held me upright.
"Beat him."
I trembled. Maybe, if I fainted…
The whip crossed my thighs, eliciting a sob from somewhere far away - me.
Maybe I gave up because I knew they wouldn't stop. Maybe because I knew they would let Jim down when it was done. I was trying to find a good explanation beyond the one that I simply had reached the end of my endurance.
With my failing strength, I flicked the whipends against the black sack that trembled in response.
"Again," Spock ordered.
It was becoming easier with every stroke. After ten they released my arms, and I sank down to the floor and into darkness.
*
I couldn't leave my room for three days, so rough the beating had been. When the doctor claimed me to be fit again, I went into the garden, hoping to find Jim.
But there was only Thras, obviously waiting for me.
"I need to show you something," he said without further introduction and walked toward an area I had barely explored in my time here. It was like a kind of zoo where the Talek-sen-deen had animals from various planets. Passing some Terran sheep and a cow, Thras led me to the pigpen.
I looked into it and back at him. "That's what you want to show me?" I asked irritated.
"Watch closer," he said. I surveyed the pigpen again, taking my time without expecting anything spectacular. There were four pigs and --
"What's…that?" I asked in a low voice. The being was on all fours and definitely had a snout with which it scraped through the muddy soil. But it also had hands and feet and looked humanoid.
"This is Sov. He is Tellarite. Or maybe better said, he was. Today, he is nothing but an animal for the Vulcans and probably for himself too," Thras said emotionlessly.
"What happened?" My voice was barely a whisper, as I imagined myself in the Tellarite's place.
Thras took some fodder in his left hand and held it into the pigpen. The humanoid hurriedly came close and ate out of his hand, licking his blue fingers. "He's often hungry, as the other pigs tend to keep him away from the feeding trough."
"What happened, Thras?" I repeated in increasing impatience as he took his time feeding the humanoid.
"Tellarites are a warrior race through and through. He didn't want to give in and remained disobedient. But he didn't realize that he had no options."
"Did you know him…before?"
"Yes. And he was not unlike your brother." Thras cleaned his hands on a nearby towel, smoothing his perfect outfit. "I do regret the loss of sentient life."
I stared at the creature, knowing how serious this warning was. "Anything else to tell me?"
Thras shook his head minutely and walked toward the main building, leaving me with a growing sense of foreboding.
*
It took another day before I found Jim in the garden, lacing some plants into a gate. I pulled him into a quiet corner with me, clutching his lower arms.
"They forced me to beat you…I'm so sorry," I said, close to tears. "Are you all right?"
"Sam, dammit, this isn't between you and them," he replied unexpectedly, his jaw tightening. "I don't want you to get hurt by my actions."
"You're my little brother. I cannot simply ignore what's going on."
"You have to," he said.
I would've massaged my forehead if I could've reached it. Instead, I released my grip and sank down on the nearest bench, inhaling deeply.
"You have to," he replied insistently. "Otherwise, you're helping them keep me oppressed, Sam, because I would feel obliged to do anything to keep you from being hurt." He met my eyes in an open plea.
"Jim, you're going to lose that fight." I looked at him, knowing I was preaching to deaf ears. "Yesterday, Thras showed me an osh've who had not submitted to the Vulcans' rules. You wouldn't want to become…that."
He looked at me with all his teenage stubbornness. "I won't give in. I can't." Clenching his fists he bucked against the laced jacket without effect. "I hate it. I hate this situation. I hate them, and always will." Glaring at me he let his hands sink. "The punishment hurt like hell," he admitted. "But I can stand a lot more. I just can't stand to know that you are getting hurt by my actions. Please, Sam, let me fight my own fight."
I felt so weak, and once more not only like a whore but like a traitor to my little brother who had so much more staying power than me. In an hour, I would sink back into Sarek's bed and submit to the rules, even share the Vulcan's lust. I also mostly ignored the fact that Sarek hadn't intervened at my beating. He couldn't, I kept telling myself. It was a question of holding the reigns …
"You really like him," Jim suddenly said. "Sarek, I mean."
"Yes…yes, I do," I whispered.
"I don't think I will ever understand that," he said. Seeing the disbelief in his eyes, I knew I would never tell him that I had joined Sarek almost unforced…as free as anyone in my situation could have chosen. There was no need to finally spoil his picture of his older brother. It was enough that I began feeling sick when thinking about it.
"I need to go," I said and stood up, realizing that I kept my balance without any problem now, and it had been a long time since my neck hurt in the collar. The sick feeling developed into a full-fledged nausea that followed me all through the night.
*
The unspoken battle of wills between Spock and Jim went on behind closed doors, with the household only able to get small glimpses of it. Jim stood up quite well, but in the afternoon two weeks later I found him in the garden close to tears. He stood up as he saw me, and we awkwardly managed to embrace each other. I clenched his waistline, keeping him close.
"Everything will be fine," I mumbled as if to a child, knowing those were empty words. I didn't dare to ask what was up; the trace of a whiplash that disappeared into the sleeve of his jacket told me that had been a rough night. Cursing Spock inwardly I pulled Jim tighter.
Finally we parted, and seeing me searching for more traces of violence on his skin he slightly shook his head. "It's not the beating that kills me. It's…" He stopped speaking.
"What, Jim?"
He grimaced. "It's so…humiliating."
I peered at him, clueless to what specifically he was talking about.
Minimally shaking his head he unlaced his fingers and rubbed his chest. "I never told you…I just couldn't…"
"Jim, for god's sake, would you please stop talking in riddles," I growled.
"It's…when we have sex…or whatever…he always makes me come," he murmured. Fully meeting my eyes he went on, "in fact, even at this…ceremony, where the Vulcans raped me, they all made me come. I mean, I tried to block it. I was so hurt and confused and angered and…they made me orgasm, as if my body had nothing to do with my mind. I felt so disconnected. I felt like I betrayed myself." Once started, he sputtered along. "And with Spock it's the same. I really despise him. I don't want to be touched by him, never mind fucked, but then he starts and he just makes me horny and come, always. It's so humiliating. It's worse than if he would simply rape me - it's as if a part of me is submitting to him and I can't do a thing about it."
Open anguish lay in Jim's features, and so many things fell into place for me as his words hit. Was it that the Vulcans needed our willing participation in sex? Did they feed on our pleasure, fuel their own arousal? Did they…
"Do you think Spock can…read your mind?" I asked blankly.
He looked at me with a deep frown. "I have thought about it. It's so hard to tell, but sometimes I thought he just…knows me too well. At least…" he blushed, "…he definitely knows where to touch me to make me…feel the most."
Anger flared in me - anger about Thras who surely knew it all but never said more than he felt compelled to tell.
Jim hesitatingly asked, "What about Sarek? Does he…"
"Yes to both," I said. "Orgasms and mind-reading."
Our eyes met for a moment, sharing a common pain. Then he sighed. "I need to go. See you, Sam. And thanks for listening. I really needed it."
"Hey, you're my little brother," I said, grabbing his hands. "Take care, Jim." That was the closest to a plea as I could come. He needed to deal with his own thoughts and feelings without me being the well-meaning, patronizing brother.
He looked at me ruefully. "I'll try." I watched him leaving, laying out my plans for a talk with Thras.
*
Half an hour later I stood in front of a door in the third wing of the building where the officers' quarters were. Although I have never entered them, I knew these were W'akh's quarters by the symbols that were outlined in its middle. The Vulcan had sampled quite a lot of decorations in Sarek's army, and my fingers briefly brushed over the letters.
I probably wasn't allowed to enter, but with the warrior likely in the training area at this time, and Thras nowhere in the main building, I had hoped to find the Andorian here. In fact, I wanted to find him and break his cute little antennas for all the many things he'd never told me and thus allowed us to get entangled in the Vulcans' net of manipulation.
Finally finding the courage to open the door I snuck inside quickly. The anteroom was empty, and so was - no, there was someone at home, I realized as whistling noises made it to my ears. I should have left, but my curiosity got the better of me. Cautiously approaching the next door I peered inside.
Thras was totally naked and sat over the Vulcan's body, his long white hair unbraided and hanging freely. He was effectively sitting on the Vulcan's dick, I realized, his hands stroking the Vulcan's chest and face in an intimate caress. W'akh, in response, was stroking Thras's long, slim, blue genitals that lay over his hip, while his other hand had gotten hold on one of the antennas. The Andorian's whistling sound filled the air and suddenly died as colorless liquid poured out of his penis. Bucking against him the Vulcan joined him in his orgasm with a deep moan. Seconds later, their lips found each other's in a satiated kiss.
Hurriedly I retreated into the corridor again where I leaned heavily against the wall. So that was the explanation for Thras' standing - he was…loved.
Tears stung in my eyes. Partly I felt betrayed, realizing that Thras was, in effect, part of the system, too, but mostly I envied him for what he had. For all that Sarek did to me, he never undressed me completely or would allow me to take part in our sexual interaction so…equally. There was always the distance, the difference in power.
I rolled around, pressing my forehead to the wall. No matter what Thras wore outside, in their quarters he was free. And I wasn't, anywhere.
*
As Jim's situation got worse, I found I couldn't really stand by and watch it without trying to help. But for that I felt I needed much more information about Spock and the clan rules than I had at the moment, and so I began to elicit useful answers from Thras by carefully changing my way of questioning. He never realized just how much he told me in the end.
Additionally I began to read in the library, making my way through the clan history painstakingly slow and with the help of dictionaries. It earned me a lot of questioning gazes, but it wasn't explicitly forbidden for an osh've to be there. It was in the clan heraldry where I finally found something that explained a whole lot of things. The only question was what I could use that knowledge for.
In the end it was my hate and anger that pushed me forward to have it out with Spock in private - perhaps not the most sensible combination of feelings to base a decision on. Checking his schedule I learned I would find him in the physics lab in the second wing, a place where I would never have suspected him to be in the past. Like the library, the labs weren't forbidden to me, but not encouraged either, and so I snuck into them in the rising dawn.
When the lab's door opened to me, I entered the brightly lit hall which, at first, looked like every other room. Vulcan technology blended naturally into its surrounding and so, walking along innocent-looking benches, only the lights and controls told me that in their depths was an electronic heart pulsing. Some astronomy charts played over the ceiling and for a moment I stared at them, cherishing their beauty. But then I walked deeper into the hall, searching for my target.
Spock was sitting on a table, head bent in concentration over some electronic wiring that he assembled meticulously with a micro-laser. For a second I simply watched him working. He looked much more at ease here than at Sarek's morning meal table, and there was even a small smile dancing over his face for a second as he concluded his work. Holding the wiring carefully between his fingertips he visually checked the result as I still stood waiting motionlessly, for once unsure what to do.
But then he looked up and, seeing me, his relaxed features changed into the tight Vulcan mask he wore outside this room. "What are you doing here?" he asked sharply.
"I wanted to talk to you," I said.
"There is nothing I have to talk about with you," he answered. "Leave this room."
"Oh yes," I said, but drew nearer. "I shall get out of your sight, hide my foreignness from you. Isn't that what this costume is all about, to hide and cover all that we are as not to insult Vulcan eyes with our alien bodies?"
He stared at me speechlessly. I doubted an osh've had ever spoken to him like this.
"But what about covering yourself, Spock? Aren't you half-human? "
His eyes widened, then turned to slits, but he still remained sitting, the wiring between his fingers trembling slightly.
I stepped at the table, facing him over it. My hands clamped around the table's edge. "You've got a hell of a lot of things to prove to your folk, don't you? That you're as worthy as Sybok. That Vulcan rules win over Human whimsies. And that you can tame one small weak Human who's worth three of you."
In his fingers, the wiring plate snapped into two. "Get out of here," he hissed. "Immediately."
"Why don't you leave him alone, Spock? I know you can. I read the clan rules - you could give him to someone else anytime. Seek someone else out to show the clan that you're a worthy son of Sarek. Let Jim go! Or do you have so little self-confidence that you have to prove to *yourself* that you can win over his courage?"
He was on me in the wink of an eye, and his blow sent me through half the hall until I crashed into another bench, unable to dampen the impact in the t'vesa. I slipped to the floor, fighting for air. Something warm ran out of my nose, but I didn't care. A shadow hovered over me, ready to strike again.
"So that's all you can," I groaned, clutching my lower arms around my hurting chest, "beating a defenseless osh've. Why don't you let us do it like men? Real men, you know, not Vulcans." A blade appeared in front of my eyes, and I held my breath as I awaited the deathblow, but then I was spun around and felt him cut the lacing. Seconds later he pulled me up and his knife opened the pants, too. Like in fever I tore away the remaining fabrics, stripping completely.
He threw away the knife and did likewise, dropping his shorts and the vest he had worn. In the end we stood in the lab as two naked figures, fixing each other with our stares. I brushed along my upper lip, finding red blood.
"How does your blood look like, Spock? Green or red, or maybe some muddy clay?" I snarled at him. Never before I had felt so ready to kill somebody, and my eyes searched the room, but in this lab there were no weapons beside the knife Spock had dropped.
"Like men," he repeated as he saw my searching gaze, a glowing anger in his features.
"So now your mask is gone," I pushed. "Don't you see it for yourself? You don't have to be what Sarek wants you to be. You don't have to be more cruel than he is, more cold-blooded. Did you ever think about why Jim was your opponent in the Qst-wan? It was close to an insult, wasn't it?"
Encouraged from Spock's utter silence, I went on. "Normally it would be a Vulcan in this ritual. Not an alien that had been abducted from another planet, who was already a prisoner. But Sarek wasn't sure you could win against a full-blooded Vulcan. And now he simply watches how you lose your position further by losing the struggle with Jim. He's your real enemy, Spock. Don't you see that?"
It was a strange, alien laughter that escaped him. "No one could have predicted what kind of osh've you both are. But when this is over, you will be in the dirt right next to Sov, rolling around in your own excrement."
"Fuck you, Spock," I sputtered as I leaped forward. I landed exactly two blows before he beat the shit out of me.
*
I lay on a medical bed, blinking at the shady ceiling through half-closed, swollen eyelids, They had treated me superficially for now as some of the broken bones would need an operation tomorrow by a doctor that had to be summoned first. The painkillers made my head swim in a psychedelic haze of various shades of reds, so I didn't quite know that there was someone next to me. But then Jim's face was hovering over me. I took in the missing t'vesa and tried to scold him, but found my jaw unwilling to work.
"What kind of stunt was that, Sam?" Jim asked, and I felt somehow insulted. Opening my eyes as far as possible I looked at him through the colorful fog. He clenched my free hand.
"Dammit, Sam, you tell to take care of myself, and then you go and challenge Spock? What the hell were you thinking?"
I frowned, anger rising about those accusations. "Had…to," I whispered in a broken voice.
Jim's mood switched, his voice suddenly layered with fear. "Sam…Lord, Sam, do you know how you look? I've never seen Spock so angry. Not the cold disdain he often shows, but a real, boiling anger. What did you say to him?"
I blinked, fixing my stare on Jim's hand. It looked red even without the fog. He followed my gaze.
"Just some hot tea that was spilled over it. An accident, really."
I didn't believe him.
"I feared he'd beat me," Jim went along, "but then Sarek came in, and they disappeared into the living room. I peeped through a slit in the door and could see that Sarek was whipping Spock hard."
A smile crossed my face. Something good at least came out of all of this.
"That's not funny at all," Jim said with a deep frown. "When they returned, Spock shoved me out of the bedroom and ordered me to sleep on the floor. I snuck out to see you, fearing the worst. But now I've got to go back to Spock, and heaven knows what mood he's in now."
I nodded weakly. "Sorry," I managed to whisper with effort.
"Sam, promise me that you'll never act so stupidly again."
Called a blockhead by my own little rebellious brother. What a joke, I thought and drifted into darkness again.
*
It took me two weeks to recover for the most part. When I could walk again, I was instantly summoned to Sarek where I received a heavy whipping too, the one and only ever from his hand. I could only hope that Spock's had hurt as much as much as mine had.
Sarek took "protector" literally now and I had to stay in his rooms all the time. It was some weeks before I was occasionally allowed into the garden, but nowhere else. I didn't really complain; in fact, I felt strangely cared for by his reaction. In bad moments, though, I admitted to myself that it only was a golden cage to protect the clan from me. But I did never hear anything harsh from Sarek, never got beaten again. Instead, the lovemaking took a turn toward even more intense waters. The sex was becoming a drug for me, and I craved those moments where I forgot about my fate and, worse, Jim's, and simply existed in a pool of crazy joy.
It was a little compensation for all the torturous morning meals where I sat eye-to-eye with The Bastard, as I called Spock now. He knew that deep inside I still was his ardent enemy. But it didn't matter anymore; this war was lost. I tried hard not to look at Jim, who now was always dressed in a way that made the Vulcans laugh at him, as The Bastard took their power struggle to personal levels, where before it had only been about status. I didn't know if The Bastard wanted to punish him more or me. He surely succeeded in both.
Knowing that The Bastard was struggling for his own position in the clan, I nevertheless slightly felt for him. But that vanished in the blink of an eye the day he led Jim to the morning meal with arms completely tied and then forced him to eat out of a bowl on the floor like a dog. And it became routine from this day on.
The Tellarite's fate clear in my mind, I once more tried to talk Jim out of his resistance as I met him in the garden by chance. But he was already lost too far in the destructive maelstrom. Even as I personally led him to the pigpen, he only briefly glanced at the creature and turned to walk away. I took hold of him.
"Don't you see the similarities?" I asked harshly and shook him as I had never done before. "Don't you fucking see how it will end?"
"I'm not him," he murmured, his stance slacked in weariness.
"No, you won't end here," I agreed angrily. "But there're many more places to forget a disgraced osh've."
He looked blankly at me, then slightly shrugged in the jacket that had been laced up so tight lately that I could see the blue bruises above his elbows. When he left, he didn't look back. And I knew I might never see him again.
*
Despite my foreboding I stood at Sarek's window two days later and stared down into the yard in utter disbelief. The guards pushed Jim along the sand, forcing him to crawl to the kennels totally naked. The expensive Terran dogs were barking madly as the group reached the grating, jumping over each other in the attempt to get hold of the men outside. I had seen the dogs being trained. And they were trained to kill.
"No," I cried into the yard from my place above it, but the guards didn't turn their head, and neither did Jim. I rotated around and collided with Sarek who clamped his hands around my upper arms hard.
"Let me go!" I screamed at him. "Let me go to Jim!" But he didn't loosen his grip - instead, he shoved me back to the window, forcing me to look outside. They were tying Jim down on all fours to a kind of wooden stool, and he was struggling all the way. I could hear the insults he kept shouting, and I could feel his desperation materialize in the sand. Today they would break him. I just knew.
"Please, Sarek, don't make me watch," I sobbed. "Don't." Unable to move my head, I watched in increasing nausea how they opened another kennel. The dogs leaped out ready to strike, and I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see their teeth tearing my brother's body apart.
"Watch!" Sarek shook my neck hard, and I blinked. The dogs were all around him, but they didn't snap. They…Lord.
"Watch!" he repeated insistently, and I gave in just to see the first large dog moving between Jim's thighs. It stretched out and placed his paws onto Jim's shoulders as it unambiguously mounted him. I could hear Jim's astonished cry even up here.
Breaking free from Sarek with my last resources I tumbled away from the window and heavily fell on my knees on the floor next to the bed.
"Why did I have to see that?" I sobbed. "Why did you make me see it?" Clenching my arms around my chest I finally cried as I hadn't done in all the months since I came here.
He towered over me in silence for a while, caressing my hair with his hand, over and over stroking some long strands. Then he carried me to his bed, and I let him without resistance. His fingers dipped into my tears, distributing them in obvious fascination. I couldn't stop crying. Why didn't they just kill us? It would be so much less pain.
When all my tears were shed, he rolled me on my stomach. I clenched a cushion and begged he would be finished soon. But he took his time. For the first time ever he disrobed me completely and caressed me everywhere, slowly, intensely, tearing me apart between sorrow and arousal. It was hell all over as he brought me to climax once, twice, three times…in the end I stopped counting. He played me like a tune, a sick tune of treason while in the yard the dogs were standing in line to fuck my brother into final submission. I began to cry again, but Sarek ignored it as he pursued my extermination as Human. And he succeeded.
*
For two days all I did was sitting in the stairways right next to the door to The Bastard's area, clad in nothing but the black servant's cloak without anybody intervening. But Jim didn't come out. And I couldn't get in.
On the third day steps approached, and I looked up. How could I still fear them, where all I had been was gone already? But finding Sarek and an unknown Vulcan warrior in front of me, my body betrayed me as it began to tremble.
"Stand up."
My legs obeyed.
"Undress."
And in the middle of the stairways, my fingers opened the small fastenings. Sarek pulled the cloak down my shoulders. It fell to the floor, leaving me naked before probing eyes.
The other man fingered my muscles, held up my chin to check my face. Then he made me turn around. My head spun as my body did, too.
"I can test him tonight?" the man said.
"Of course, Are'da," Sarek replied. "You will find him most obedient and eager."
The night was very long.
*
They had me ready for travel within an hour the next morning, dressed once more in the t'vesa jacket and pants. At least I seemed to have kept the osh've status, whatever good it did.
I knelt in the yard near the main gate, unable to understand anything of it. Or maybe I understood all too well. Sarek was beginning to care for me. But the leader doesn't care for an osh've.
A part of me wondered if it was all a dream in the end. A nightmare, borne of illness or feverish illusions. It just couldn't be true. But my attempted escape from reality shattered as I suddenly saw Jim. He knelt on the other side of the yard right next to the kennels, and behind him there was the shadow of The Bastard.
I looked at my little brother, my forced control not able to hide how terrified I truly was. "Keep your head up, Jim! Don't you dare do something stupid!" I shouted all over the yard, praying he would hear me. "I'll come back!"
I wish I could say he nodded, but he didn't move at all. His much-too-thin frame was the last thing I saw before we left, and I feared the worst.
Two weeks later I learned it had come true.
*
I have been in Are'da's possession for some months, until he lost me in a fight against another clan. The Sor-sen-tar were eager to get a Human as a prize. And I've been eager to please their leader Tever ever since I learned of their long, smoldering war with the Talek-sen-deen. If I have to be a whore, let me be the best and most successful. And let me pay it back to the men who've made me one.
We are a good team, with my determination joining Tever's means. After two years, I've become free again and accepted into a Vulcan clan as the first Human ever. Ironically, that has made our sexual relationship much more complicated and almost forbidden. But Tever is as ruthless as Sarek, when it comes to pursuing his goals.
The warriors left for the final strike against Talek-sen-deen two days ago, and I lie waiting now, keeping the bed warm. They wake me up with their cheers as they return, demonstrating the many things they have taken from the conquered clan. Some of the artifacts and technical gadgets I recognize, many I don't. But I am more interested in the cloaked figure that tumbles over the yard and drops into the dust in front of me. I pull away the hood.
It is The Bastard. The reason for Jim's death. And now he is here and at our mercy. He stares at me, eyes open wide; then a mask of fatalism falls. I must grant him this - he doesn't beg. But that would be useless anyway. I am no Human anymore.
I circle around him in measured steps. I need to keep that rising red storm in front of my eyes under control, or I might kill him on the spot. But he is not mine, not officially at least. Only I have heard the whispered words of my leader that declares him a gift to me.
Clapping my hands I summon two men. I will take my time, just as he has taken with Jim. And I know where he will start.
"Prepare this osh've," I say. I've learned my lessons - now taste mine.