Майкл Гир - Requiem for the Conqueror
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- Название:Requiem for the Conqueror
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"To love.
She said nothing, furious gaze never leaving his face. "Drink," the Imperial Seventh ordered, sipping at his sherry.
Slowly, the glass touched her lips. Never did the hatred in her eyes waver. Finished, she put the glass on a sculpted counter. "I'll kill you, Regan."
"No, my dear, not so long as you wear the collar."
A curious light danced in her eyes. "It shuts off all feeling? It did when your bitch, Takka, used it the first time on the LC."
"Everything below the neck. That's why I've already won. By couldn't have pleased me more than by making a gift of you. "
Her eyes flickered as a slight frown formed.
With his glass, he gestured. "Come closer. Ah, don't hesitate like that. You have no choice. Come-or suffer the collar. "
She swallowed, throat working. Almost trembling, she took a step, then another, the light material swirling around her long graceful legs.
Tybalt reached out a hand, feeling her shudder as he placed it on her shoulder. "That's it, dear one. See, not so terrible, is it? The collar can overcome any assortment of obstacles. Even psychological training."
She went tense, trembling, every muscle in her body twitching as he ran his fingers along the side of her face. "You know, Arta, I will take very good care of you. It isn't such a bad life, being my slave. "
She had closed her eyes, teeth chattering behind tight lips.
"Ily let me see the tapes of your interrogation. I know you were trained on Etaria. You know the arts of love, my dear. It's up to me to liberate them within you. That's why you'll never want again, dear Arta. Ask and I shall grant you most anything."
"D-don't … touch me," she managed, fighting revulsion.
"That I won't grant-or your freedom either. No, dearest, I'll keep you for myself." His fingers dropped to the broach at her shoulder, unpinning the soft material. He stepped back as it fluttered down her body, shimmering in the subdued light.
"Marvelous," he breathed. "The most exquisite woman I have ever seen."
She seemed to still her trembling, opening her eyes to watch him guardedly as he unfastened his own garments, stepping out of the pile they made on the floor. Something changed in her expression as he came close.
"Easy, Arta. Relax. We have all night. Don't fight me. I control the collar."
He caught her in mid-leap, stepping out of the way as she crashed nervelessly to the floor.
He released the control. "It might turn out to be a long night. This is a simple stimulus response reconditioning. You can learn to control your training." Tybalt refilled his sherry as she gasped on the floor. "Stand up."
Patiently, he dropped her time after time while she fought the collar and him. Finally, drained, she withstood the impulse to attack as he reached and ran a hand down her skin.
"There, see, the training can be overcome." Tybalt smiled and reached forward to kiss her. His lips touched hers.. He triggered the collar before her knee was halfway to his crotch.
"Can't do that, dearest," Tybalt chided.
She seemed to be on her feet more quickly this time, as if drawing on some inner reserve.
He kissed her hard, pressing himself to her, feeling his passion grow. Again he triggered the collar before she could strike.
"You have incredible endurance," Tybalt murmured. "The Seddi are truly masters at their craft. " He dropped
beside her as she lay on the floor, triggering the collar again, allowing his hands to caress her. "No, the time has come, dear Arta."
Each time she began to resist, he used the collar. Finally he lay on her, his manhood spent. He filled his lungs with the odor of her as sweat trickled down his sides to mix with hers.
Sighing, he forced himself up, going for more sherry. "We will get better at that, you and L"
The second time he took her, she controlled herself. After his orgasm he lay on her, staring into her eyes, dazzled by the amber and the depths of her black pupils. She chuckled softly and reached her long arms around him as a cunning satisfaction filled her expression.
"See," he cooed, "you can give pleasure without striking. "
"Yes," she added thoughtfully. "I am past that.",'Work for me. Give me the bliss of an Etarian Priestess." She followed him when he went for another glass of
sherry, and joined him, taking a glass, draining it. She smiled in private triumph as she sipped the amber liquor. Tybalt laughed, throwing his head back. "There is no
power in Free Space greater than Tybalt! I have broken the Seddi!" He reached to draw her close. "You, my dear, I have freed! "
"No, Tybalt," her sensual tones corrected. "You see, I have freed myself."
"Uh-uh!" He shook a finger at her. "That is a rule you must learn. Never correct the Emperor."
"Of course," she agreed, eyes slitted, head back.
'And we have a full night ahead of us!" He pointed at the floor.
Still smiling, warmth radiating from her eyes, she lay back, spreading her wealth of body on the soft fabrics. Tybalt set his glass down and lowered himself. Her fingers traced the lines of his back, nails making him quiver.
"Let me show you something," she whispered seductively to him. "Just lie there. Don't be afraid. After all, you control the collar." She stood, muscles rippling along her body.
Awed, Tybalt's heart skipped. "What a wonder you are, Arta Fera. "
A secret smile curled on her lips.
He triggered the collar as she leapt high and arrowed downward. The force of the impact smashed him into the unforgiving floor. His sternum and ribs
snapped loudly under her hard knee. Tybalt's mouth dropped open as he lay stunned.
She filled his vision as she bent. He stared up in pained disbelief. An odd croaking came from his throat. He tried to get his breath. Frantically, he triggered the collar again, seeing her fight it, seeing her still pulling air into her lungs as she ran long fingers around the collar.
"You see, Tybalt," she whispered, "I have freed myself." Panic caused him to scramble away from her, each movement a spear of agony in his chest. "Help," he mouthed, voice a hoarse croak.
"There is no help. I overheard the guard say you keep this room unmonitored so your wife can never have evidence to use against you."
Again and again he triggered the collar, tasting the brass of blood in his mouth; a gurgling rose in his throat.
She crushed her knee into his chest again, lancing white agony through his body. He gagged, trying to throw up. Her forearm-hard with muscle-cut his gag reflex short as she leaned down to look into his eyes.
"Enjoying it, Tybalt? Do you like the fear? The pain? Feeling degraded? Just like rape, don't you agree?" She tilted her head slightly before leaning forward, kissing him gently on the lips. "That last was for freeing me, Tybalt."
The Imperial Seventh stared, hypnotized by the blood on her lips-his blood-the same blood that dribbled down the side of his face. Unable to move, dizzy, pain-glazed, he saw her turn. Her kick jolted his entire body as she crushed his manhood against his pubis bone.
The white-hot grip of agony pulled him deeper and deeper into oblivion. Blood-smeared lips expanded into gleaming amber eyes-his last sight as he trembled and died.
Ily Takka smiled in satisfaction as Tybalt's physical signs weakened on the small hand-held monitor she carried. She flashed the jessant-de-lis at the guard and used the badge
to deactivate the security door to Tybalt's personal quarters. Ily stepped quietly into the room as Arta Fera bent over Tybalt's dark body, kissing him fervently. The Minister of Internal Security winced at the Seddi assassin's final kick, oddly shaken by the brutality of it.
Fera watched as Tybalt quivered and slowly relaxed. A fragment of rib had pushed though the side of his chest like a bloody lance. Fera turned then, seeing Ily for the first time. Eyes going to the blaster pointed in her direction.
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