Wicked
Wanderer
Chapter Nine
by Sharon Green
Copyright 2003 by ABCD Webmasters, and Sharon Green
"Okay, sweetheart, time to get up," Chayara heard, and when she opened her eyes she saw Rego's face above her. "Our breakfast has been delivered next door, and while you're waking up the rest of the way I'll go and get it." He leaned closer to touch her lips with his before moving away, leaving Chayara with a smile as she stretched her well-satisfied body before sitting up. That was when she remembered what had gone on the night before, which meant the smile disappeared even more quickly than it had come. But Rego was already heading out of the cabin, so asking him about the change would have to wait. Instead of waiting herself, Chayara took the opportunity to use the bathroom. When she came out Rego had the tray with their food on the foot of the bed, and he turned away from the bed to smile ruefully at her. "I usually eat at the desk in my office, so there's nothing in here for even one person to take a meal at, not to mention two," he said. "We'd probably be better off having our meals in the mess hall, but I think we both need this private break from the training sessions. Come and share the meal with me, Chayara." Chayara hesitated only an instant before going to his outstretched hand and letting it take her own, but the effort wasn't easy. She now knew why Rego was being so nice to her: they were taking a "break" from the training, but for her the time was harder than the training had been. She knew what she had ahead of her, the kind of treatment the training was preparing her for. This other treatment, the niceness, would be saved for someone who wasn't a slut, and wasn't likely to ever be offered to her again. That made accepting the niceness now rather painful, but protesting would have been useless. Instead she simply joined Rego for the meal, and didn't say a word. "You haven't eaten all that much," Rego said when she finally pushed away her plate, his tone more disturbed than disapproving. "Aren't you feeling well?" "I'm feeling fine," she answered without quite looking at him, lying only a little. "Isn't it time for us to get back to the training?" "If you like," he answered after something of a hesitation. "I'll get rid of these dishes and this tray, and then we can start the training again. Would you like to finish your coffee first?" Chayara emptied her cup in a single swallow instead of answering in words, so now there was nothing left to keep the breakfast time going. Rego also stayed silent as she put the cup on the tray with the rest of the dishes, and then he took the tray back to that table in his office. The quiet was very restful - until it ended with Rego's return. "All right, girl, stand up so I can look at you," Rego said, his tone as hard as it had been the night before. "And I'd better like what I see." Chayara lost no time in leaving the bed and standing herself in the middle of the cabin, trying hard to make her body look sexy and desirable. Rego was fully dressed while she was still completely naked, but for some reason she hadn't noticed that sooner… "Not bad," Rego said from where he now sat alone on the bed. "But not bad isn't the same as good, so don't start to congratulate yourself. Do something to show me how much of a slut you really are." Chayara brought back memory of how the insertion had made her feel last night, then used the memory to cause her body to move. She writhed and wriggled and flaunted herself and her supposed need, a need that had, for some inexplicable reason, now disappeared. She didn't really want Rego at the moment, so she had to make herself pretend. "Better, but still not the best it could be," Rego grudged after a moment of watching her closely. "I'm not convinced that you really want to please me, so I think we need to make you a bit more eager. I skipped a punishment you earned yesterday and left it for today, so let's get it taken care of right now. Pick something out for me to punish you with." Chayara had managed to forget that Rego had postponed a punishment, and now that she'd been reminded - in the worst way possible - she was far from happy. But she still had no choice but to go along with what she'd been told to do, so she began to look around the cabin. The belt she'd chosen the night before was nowhere to be seen, so that option was out. It would have to be one of the wooden items, then… What to choose suddenly became very unimportant, so Chayara went and got the paddle, then carried it back to Rego. Putting herself across his knees after handing him the paddle wasn't easy, but staying face down over his lap became harder once the punishment started. Chayara gasped at the feel of the first stroke of the paddle against her bottom, but the second swat made her want to do more than gasp. That paddle hurt, and Rego didn't seem to be holding back at all. By the time the twelfth swat came down on Chayara's bottom she was holding tight to Rego's pants leg and was just short of howling. Her seat ached terribly from the constant smack-smack-smack of the paddle against her bottom, and she didn't know how much longer she'd be able to keep from standing up again and running away. But then she discovered that the spanking was over when Rego pulled her hands free of his pants leg, all but threw her to her feet, then got up to pick her up in his arms. A moment later he was striding around the bed to reach a place where he could throw her into the still-wrinkled linen, pause to open his pants, then force himself between her raised legs. Chayara was using her feet to get her tender bottom out of contact with the bed, and then she had something else to take her attention. Rego lost no time in presenting his arousal to her womanhood, and a heartbeat later he was thrusting inside her. Chayara cried out in protest, knowing that sex right now would be painful, but Rego ignored the protest and just began to stroke her. The time was just as painful as Chayara had expected it to be, but after only moments her body responded to save her even more pain. It wasn't as long as it could have been before Rego found release, but he didn't withdraw as quickly as Chayara would have liked. "You didn't seem to enjoy that as much as you did last night," Rego said once his breathing had become more regular, those gray eyes looking down at her. "Last night we shared the pleasure, but no man has to share anything with a slut. Being treated like this is the only thing a slut can expect, but if this is what you want I won't refuse you. I have work that's waiting for my attention, so I'll be gone for a few hours. Why don't you spend the time thinking." Only then did he withdraw and leave the bed, also leaving a very disturbed Chayara. She heard Rego fix his clothes and then walk out of the cabin, which let her turn to her stomach to do the thinking he'd suggested. So he wasn't serious about being willing to "train" me, she thought, bitterness so strong inside her that she could taste it. His aim was to get me to "change my mind," having no idea that the choice wasn't mine to make. I knew he didn't want a slut hanging around him, but he's wrong to think I can be anything else. Moving into this cabin was a mistake, but it's a mistake that can be fixed. Even though fixing the mistake would take her away from a man she'd started to want to be with. There was more to Rego than his good looks and attractive body, but he was also a man who wanted a normal life. It wasn't possible for anyone to have a normal life with a slut around, so she had to walk away from Rego and stay away no matter what. As soon as the pain in her bottom eased a little she would shower and dress and go back to her own cabin, from now on keeping away from Rego as much as possible. But even before any of that she'd have to stop crying… * * * Torand Rego lost no time in leaving his cabin, utterly relieved to have the excuse of work to escape an intolerable situation. Punishing a woman who deserved that punishment wasn't hard at all, but finding excuses to hurt a woman he really cared for wasn't the same. It was wonderful taking Chayara in his arms and making love to her, but hurting her and all but raping her the way he'd just done made him sick to his stomach. His great idea wasn't working as well as he'd thought it would, and all he could do was hope - pray! - that she changed her mind after she did the thinking he'd left her to do. "Tor, what's wrong?" he heard, and then Jerman, his medic, had stopped to study him with a frown on her face. "You look like you've lost a fight instead of having won one." "The battles you face in life aren't always big and out in plain view," Tor answered, hearing the weariness in his voice. "And sometimes the small, private fights are harder to survive." "I think you need to talk to someone," Jerman decided abruptly. "As your medical officer, I prescribe a cup of coffee and a time of conversation, both of which you can get in my infirmary. Come on, it won't hurt as much as you're obviously expecting it to." Tor had been hesitating over discussing his problem with anyone, but he suddenly realized that Jerman was right. He did need someone to act as his sounding board, not to mention being a source of ideas in case his own went the wrong way. So he nodded to show that he'd surrendered, and then he followed Jerman back to her infirmary. "Okay, we're completely alone here," she said once he took a seat and they both had cups of coffee in front of them. "Now tell me what's wrong." "It's that … slut business Chayara is so involved with," Tor said, finding the words hard to speak in spite of his earlier resolve. "I don't know why she refuses to see reason, but when she told me she was a failure at being a slut I - volunteered to train her." "I didn't realize she was still so deeply involved with that," Jerman said, her frown having returned. "I can guess that your plan was to show her how unpleasant being a slut might be, but something seems to have gone wrong. What was it that didn't go right?" "I spent hours last night humiliating and punishing her, but this morning she insisted on going right back to the 'training,'" Tor answered, toying with his cup as he avoided Jerman's gaze. "It isn't as if she enjoyed what I did to her because I know she didn't, and she especially disliked what I did this morning. I know I should keep pressing my advantage, only I've discovered that I - can't." "Because you care for her too much to want to hurt and humiliate her," Jerman said, and Tor could almost hear her nod. "What does Falk think about your attraction to his niece?" "I still can't believe it, but Falk wants me to marry his niece," Tor said, finally looking up at Jerman's face. "Falk and his brother, who's Chayara's father, both saw my gene mapping and both think I'm the perfect choice for the girl. I told Falk I'd be glad to marry Chayara - assuming the girl wants me to - but so far she hasn't shown anything like my own feelings. And how can she develop anything real in the way of feelings for me if I go on with that abysmal 'training'?" "Tor, have you tried telling her she isn't what she imagines she is?" Jerman asked, her dark eyes looking troubled. "When I told her about the Green Glow she refused to believe me, insisting that 'logic' didn't support my claim." "Then that makes two of us who weren't believed," Tor said, tossing away the idea of having Jerman visit the girl. "Maybe a big part of my problem is that I don't really know what being a slut is supposed to be about. I know that the girls in my school back home used the term for any girl who was more attractive to the boys than they were, usually a girl who sort of oozed sex. Do you know anything more about it?" "Yes, it so happens I do," Jerman answered after taking a sip of her coffee. "While I was growing up I was constantly warned against wearing certain clothes and acting in certain ways so that people would not consider me a 'slut.' I think most girls are told the same, and some go out of their way to act 'slutty' just to be contrary. But there's another, more serious reason that some girls act in that way, and I think you need to see the results of the clinical studies. Tell me if you think Chayara fits the profile." Tor didn't know what to expect, but once Jerman sat him down in front of her monitor after calling up the information she'd mentioned, he certainly did find out. The reality behind the situation was thankfully masked by large words and clinical attitudes, which was all that let Tor finish reading the entire study. "I never knew that," he said when he'd finally finished, looking at Jerman bleakly. "I'd love to be able to argue the researchers' conclusions, but unfortunately I can't. And no, Chayara doesn't fit the profile in any way at all." "I was fairly certain she didn't," Jerman said, a bit of relief showing through her own bleakness. "Do you think the article will do a better job of convincing Chayara of the truth than our own efforts accomplished?" "At this point I have no idea," Tor answered honestly. "I can hope she sees the point, but we won't know whether she does or not until after we try. But I can't think of anything better to do, so let's try right now." Jerman had finished her coffee while Tor did all that reading, so he was the only one who had a cup to drain before they left the infirmary. The walk to Tor's cabin didn't take very long, but when he opened the door and went in he found a surprise. "I don't see her," Jerman remarked when she followed Tor into the cabin. "Is she in the head do you think?" "She's gone, and it's not a matter of just thinking," Tor said, staring at the emptied drawer he'd given to Chayara to use. "If that means she's given up the idea of being trained I couldn't be happier, but why don't I feel happier?" "Maybe you're not happier because her giving up on the training doesn't mean she's given up the rest of her ideas," Jerman said, going straight to the heart of the matter as usual. "The smartest thing right now would be to find her and ask." Tor nodded, then led the way to the most logical place for Chayara to be: her old cabin. The cabin door was locked, and signaling at the door brought nothing in the way of a response. "She doesn't seem interested in talking to anyone right now," Jerman observed after the third time Tor pressed the signal. "It might be a good idea if we left her alone until later, when she'll hopefully be feeling more like socializing." "I suppose you're right," Tor grudged, forcing himself to swallow down worry and unease. "Pressing her now might make things worse instead of better, so I'll wait. I just hope she doesn't make me wait too long." Jerman patted his arm to show her approval of his words and actions, and then they separated. Jerman probably went back to the infirmary - or back to whatever she'd been in the middle of when she'd first run into Tor - and he went to the bridge. He was hoping to find some kind of distraction that would give him something other than Chayara to think about, but no such luck. Everything was going smoothly both here aboard the Hawk and aboard her sister ship Raven, so there was nothing for Tor to do. Instead of staying on the bridge and getting in the duty watch's way, Tor went back to his office. The ordinary chores involved with running a ship were always around and needing to be done, but Tor discovered that he'd arranged things too efficiently. It took only a little more than an hour to get all caught up, and then he was right back to where he'd been earlier: needing something to distract him. "But I've already waited," he realized aloud, actually surprising himself. "Chayara may already be feeling better, so why don't I send her a message saying I want to see her? That's not the same as pounding on her door, so she ought to respond." Ignoring the fact that he'd signaled at her door rather than pounded, Tor composed a short message and sent it to Chayara's computer. He knew the computer would signal for her attention when the message arrived, so he sat and fretted until his own computer signaled a response. The fact that she'd responded so quickly put a smile on Tor's face, but reading that response erased the smile just as fast. "'Rego,'" her answer read. "'I appreciate your efforts to help me out, but those efforts are no longer necessary. I'll be continuing alone from now on, so I'll also appreciate your not contacting me again. As soon as my father and my world are freed you and I will be going our separate ways, which means it will be best if we begin the separation right now. Chayara.'" Tor immediately sent another message asking to speak to her face to face, but minute after minute went by and there was no response. All he got was an automatic notice that his message hadn't been accepted and opened by the computer it had been sent to, which meant another door had been closed in his face. Thinking seriously about taking heavy equipment to the girl's cabin door and breaking the door down showed Tor that he was too far over the edge. He'd told Falk that he refused to take an unwilling bride, and insisting that the girl speak to him when she so obviously didn't want to would be almost as bad. He had an important job that needed doing, and once it was over he could ask the girl's father to intercede with her to allow him a last talk with her. Until then anything he did in an effort to regain her attention would be out and out dishonorable, and he liked to think he was a better person than that. But even though he still had one last try ahead of him, he couldn't quite make himself think of the girl as anything but "the girl." Thinking of her by name as he'd started to do would just be too painful to stand if the last time he spoke to her turned out to be the last time… * * * The trip to Evron, Falk's home world, took another couple of days, during which time Tor worked very hard to keep busy. At some point Jerman sent him a message saying that the girl had refused to see her as well, and Tor had told Jerman not to press the matter. The girl wasn't eating well but she was eating, and neither of them wanted to agitate the girl so much that she stopped eating entirely. When the Hawk and Raven entered Evron's system, they received a "welcome" message from Evron's station, relayed from the planet. That message surprised Tor until he noticed that the welcome was addressed to the "newest governmental representatives." Falk had obviously paved the way for the two former pirate ships by designating them official ships of the government which, at the moment, they actually were. The message had been able to travel much faster than any ship, so instead of being fired on by the planet's patrol ships, they were being welcomed. And that told Tor what would be in the sealed envelope of instructions that Falk had sent to him before the Hawk and the Raven left Utopia. He'd been ordered not to open the envelope until he reached Evron, and when he saw the impressive credentials naming him the new governor of the planet - and the letter recalling the current governor - it was clear that Falk knew him even better than he'd thought. Tor had been much happier with the thought of another fight than with the thought of simply walking in and taking over. He still didn't know if he could handle the job of planetary governor, and despite his resolve to give it his best shot he remained less than completely confident. But the job had to be done, so he had Henson send word to the Raven that they would be landing at the private port of the governor's mansion. Once both ships were on the ground Tor led his "landing party" out to meet the same from the Raven, then both groups headed for the mansion. Talla Fain, captain of the Raven, grinned as she quietly congratulated Tor on his new position while they walked. Apparently Talla had been told what Tor hadn't, and her landing party wasn't dressed for a fight any more than Tor's was. "Welcome, sir and madam," a stuffy-looking official said when he met them just inside the mansion's entrance lobby, his smile carved out of smugness. "The governor is in a meeting at the moment, but as soon as she's free she'll give you a tour of the mansion and a report on the progress she's made since she took office. The wait shouldn't be more than an hour or so, and refreshments will, of course, be - " "Our mission here is a bit more important than to simply take a tour," Talla interrupted to say in a hard voice. She was a big woman, bigger even than Tor's second Lanni, her red hair and green eyes telling anyone who looked at her that trying her temper would not be a very wise thing to do. "You will take us to the governor at once, without any further comments about waits or refreshments." "I beg your pardon!" the stuffy official said with obvious outrage, drawing himself up to his full height. He was just a touch larger than Talla, but that fact seemed to impress him more than it did her. "It happens to be against the law to address someone in a tone like that, just the way the same thing is against the law on Utopia. If you thought you were coming to some boondocks planet, allow me to assure you - " "Instead of assuring us, I suggest you do as the lady said," Tor interrupted to state, his tone no warmer than Talla's had been. "Show us to the room where the governor is having her meeting and do it right now." "Well!" the official exclaimed, clearly insulted now as well as outraged. "Don't think for a moment that I won't tell the governor exactly how you spoke to me! She detests this kind of behavior even more than I do, so we'll just see where your visit is spent, now won't we." With those words the man turned and walked off toward a hall leading to the back of the mansion, his nose in the air and his sense of satisfaction-to-come as clear as if he wore a sign that read, "Just you wait!" Tor exchanged a bland look with Talla, their own version of "Just you wait." Tor would obviously have a lot of housecleaning to do as soon as he took over, and the stuffy official - who hadn't even introduced himself by name - would be among the first to go. The hall they were led into took them past a series of rooms that had long tables with chairs arranged around both sides, but the doors to those rooms stood open. They walked to the end of the hall where two men in fancy uniforms stood to either side of the double doors, and their guide stopped between the two supposed guardsmen. "This is where the governor is at the moment, but she's obviously left orders not to be disturbed," the man said with a clear smirk. "Now that you've wasted your time and mine, the room where you'll wait for the governor isn't far from here. I'll take you to the room, and when the governor is through with her meeting I'll have a word with her - " Tor's store of patience with nonsense of this kind wasn't large to begin with; that the official felt perfectly safe with only two men in uniform near him was clear, as most citizens would never argue with someone in a uniform. This was the kind of thing Falk meant to put an end to, and Tor was delighted to be able to help with his own effort. "Place all three of them under arrest," Tor said to Talla in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone, his tone now bored. "We'll see to their disposition as soon as we take care of their superior." The two guards, who'd had smug looks of their own, joined the official in immediate protest when some of Talla's people stepped forward with drawn stunners to pull the three away from the doors. Ignoring all those protests wasn't hard at all, and when Talla moved ahead to throw open the doors for Tor he was ready. He strode into the room as if he owned it, a circumstance that would actually be true in just a few minutes. "What's the meaning of this intrusion?" a woman demanded as she shot to her feet, her expression pure glare. "Who are you people, and how dare you come into this room without my permission?" The woman was on the small side, handsome rather than pretty, and apparently nearing her middle years. Her dark hair was worn short in a stylish cut and her suit looked to be cream-colored silk. The six other people in the room, a mix of male and female, looked just as outraged as the woman, but none of them left their chairs. "Our abrupt entrance is due to the official business we have, so our arrival isn't an intrusion," Tor answered mildly after a short pause, now walking toward the woman. "Are you Governor Hania Roblin?" "Of course I am," the small woman answered, now frowning rather than glaring. "If you're the new officials sent by Utopia to be familiarized with my methods and achievements, you're supposed to be waiting for me in a guest room - " "We are from Utopia, but familiarization isn't the reason we're here," Tor interrupted, knowing that the woman was about to dismiss them all. "Whatever the purpose of this meeting was, allowing it to continue would just be a waste of everyone's time. Hania Roblin, you're hereby relieved of the post of governor of this world, and according to the orders of the new governor you're to be held until such time as you can be made accountable for your actions as governor. You're now ordered to show us to the place where those of your sort are incarcerated." "What nonsense is this?" the woman demanded while two of the people at the table stood up looking shocked. "I was appointed governor by the heads of our government on Utopia, and only they can dismiss me - which isn't going to happen. I -" "You think it won't happen because you're related to three of those heads you just mentioned?" Talla said with a small laugh. "I hate to be the one to bring even more bad news, but your relatives aren't in power any longer any more than you'll be. That piece of paper being held out to you now by the new governor is your official notice that you're out of a job, so take it and let's get you put away where you can't cause any more harm." Tor felt the urge to chuckle at the way the small woman suddenly looked appalled, but the urge went away as everyone in the room began to argue and demand things. It would be another couple of minutes before they'd be able to take all these people and put them in cells, but once that was done he'd be able to free Falk's brother and speak to the man. After that…
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