Chapter 9: When Rape Ain’t

Kelsey Wright had to help me to the shower. My legs were like rubber—foam rubber. I massed almost twice Kelsey’s weight and I topped her height by a head, yet she didn’t show any strain as she walked me into the rain room. The falling water refreshed me. Scented soaps sluiced sweat from skin, then was in turn rinsed.

“Total submission,” Kelsey told me. “You wondered why everybody was bald. It’s a Zheeyad tradition. First, the woman is stripped of her glory, her beautiful mane. She is made aware of her inner beauty. If we had time I would have configured all of their bodies to be like mine, like Kris. No secondary sexual characteristics. Sex is in the mind and all else is merely animals rutting.”

“That was on my mind,” I said as my body wilted. If I weren’t leaning on Kelsey I’d have been a limp lump on the floor. Even my penis wilted! Fatigue?

“Give it a few hours,” Kelsey directed, reading my mind. “You and Kris merged psyches. Right now Manny isn’t ready for you either. She’s still clinging to her identity as a lesbian.”

“I can relate,” I muttered. “Having sex with men is unappealing to me.”

“She needs you to seize her, to possess her,” Kelsey said as she switched off the water and switched on the air dryer. As the focused blowers dried us from head to toe, I thought about the future.

“I need to organize my thoughts,” I announced. “What is my mission? Am I retired? I figured out that I can’t just walk away from Ashley, from you, from the others.”

“That’s right,” Kelsey said.

“On the other hand, I’m not keen to try taking over Zheeyad,” I countered. “I need to discuss this with the others--”

“We will do as you say,” Kelsey interjected. “We are your slaves.”

“Okay, I’ll decide,” I capitulated, “but I’ll still seek advice. I may not follow that advice, but I don’t know everything. You know things I don’t. Since we’re on the run, why not look for a world of our own? I want a place safe enough to raise children. We can raise them to play the psychic games away from the Consortium. Mental powers are banned in the Consortium. There’s too much going on in Zheeyad, too many claiming the throne. Why get in that fight when we don’t need to? Either Zheeyad will sort itself out or it won’t.”

“Give up Zheeyad?” Kelsey questioned.

“I don’t own the place,” I said, “and many have equally or more valid claims on the throne than Ashley’s child. There will be killing. Lots of killing. We can duck out of that. I know killing. I’ve done a bit. As for the Consortium, we can establish an academy. We have the rest of our lives, however short or long that may be.”

Kelsey was silent as we left the shower. I felt clean again, but exhausted. Sex may not be great exercise, but it takes a lot out of me. My legs were less rubbery but I still needed support as Kelsey led me to the bridge, and privacy when the bridge hatch was secured. I sank into one of the crew couches, too wrung out to stand. Kelsey perched on the side.

“You mandated that watch standers wear space suits,” she stated. “Several of us need to be naked at all times, but we can live with your safety rule. None of us can survive vacuum or temperature extremes naked. However, unless there’s some safety or health reason or there’s a law against that, three of us slaves need to be naked: that’s myself, Kris and Ashley. We’ve been conditioned to prefer being naked. Constance grew up naked and prefers total nudity. Solace is a submissive and needs to be controlled; I recommend keeping her naked at all times. The odd man out, if you’ll excuse my expression, is Captain Manchester.”

“You have a recommendation?” I asked, even though my question wasn’t really a question.

“Yes,” Kelsey studied my face. “You are a unique mix of wild animal and child-like innocence, my master. I recommend keeping Manny naked as much as possible. The next star port we go to—permit none of us women to wear clothing when off this ship. It’s legal for us to be naked. You’ll want to verify that, of course, because you are driven to protect us from harm. Manny needs to get used to being naked, being exhibited and displayed. I have a program to condition Manny to perpetual nudity, if you approve. Understand this, my master, Manny has agreed to be your slave. True, it’s because Ashley can no longer live without you—but Manny needs Ashley because Manny loves Ashley, and vice versa. Nudity will be necessary to enslave Manny.”

Kelsey lectured me on the care and feeding of slaves, and I began to play with and explore her body. Kelsey claimed to be 433 years old—standard years? Zheeyad years? Didn’t matter. She hadn’t experienced puberty. The conversation segued into the two slaves aboard Lightning Bolt who would have to physically mature in order to bear children. Kris, the salvaged slave, was only fourteen.

“When is your 435th birthday, Kelsey?” I asked.

“Thank you, Master,” Kelsey said, reading my mind. It’s hard to write about instant mental communications because entire conversations that would take minutes via voice do take less than a second. Imagine data dumps for humans. “I’d like that, and it makes sense. Three of us—Ashley, Constance and Solace--are already pregnant. Manny needs to be next. I can start the process.”