Note: this story is nothing but pure, kinky x-rated porn. If such things are not to your taste, I recommend reading something else. ***
Boots sounded firmly on the brick floor, the echoes bouncing off the walls on their way to the inner chamber of the business office.
"Good morning, Ma'am, there is a new applicant waiting inside," Troy announced politely as he handed her the morning mail. She gave his thick, long brown mane a stroke, igniting a low, rumbling purr.
"Good morning, Troy, thank you. The one from New Jeri? Good, I've been expecting him. First impressions?" She could always count on her assistant for an honest opinion in this atmosphere of courtiers and toads.
"Subby," he said with a slight twist of distaste to his lips, briefly baring a gleaming white incisor. "I suppose we could use someone to clean the showers."
Clare chuckled and tsk-tsk'ed. "They have their uses in other areas," she said with a gentle reprimand to the tip of his nose.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"The litter-box," she heard muttered as she went into her office. Cats, she thought with another chuckle. Such snobs....
Glancing at the applicant kneeling in the middle of the floor, she could tell immediately what set Troy off; the boy had a definite dog sense about him. Looks like a boxer, she thought, wondering if this new boy had discovered his inner animal yet. Probably not, if he came in from New Jerusalem.
"Good morning, boy," she said, tossing the mail on her desk and turning to stand in front of it, facing him. "I am Madam Clare. You may call me Ma'am."
"Yes, Ma'am, good morning, Ma'am." He remained in Presentation, his eyes fixed at her feet.
Clare gave a small nod of approval. "Stand," she ordered. He stood in one fluid movement, a surprise for such a compact body. "Inspection." His hands went behind his neck. "Why have you come here? You would fetch a pretty price in a private household." She took a nipple between two fingers and gave it a harsh twist. He grunted but didn't move. She found it interesting that he wasn't pierced anywhere. Clare gave his taunt butt a pat in approval. Nice and round, a good target area....
"My Masters felt that I had too much pride, Ma'am," he confessed after a moment. Honest. She nodded. And Troy saw a submissive in this boy? A titanium wall was what she saw. And a hell of a lot of scars. Whips and thunder sticks, from the looks of them, she thought, running her fingers gently over a few lines. He flinched slightly at one near his left side. Clare gave his hair a stroke. She pulled her chair from behind the desk and sat, pointing at her feet. He dropped to his knees, back into Presentation, hands appropriately at his lower back.
"My boots are new," she commented. "They got dusty on the way in. Clean them."
He hesitated. "Does Ma'am have a preferred method, Ma'am?" he asked politely. Point..
"Use your mouth." Starting at the tip of the toe, he began with small licks and then extending into lapping over her ankles. She could feel the warm moistness of his tongue through the new black leather. His lapping grew into slurping as he sucked at the toe of the boot, low growls of pleasure emerging from his throat. Clare raised an eyebrow. What's this? She noticed that his hips where moving in small rutting motions. Reaching over to her desk, she quietly took the newspaper and rolled it up. Smack! He jumped as the paper hit his ass.
"Bad dog!" she snapped. He hid his face in the floor and whined. That was fast, she thought, congratulating herself on the guesswork. "You were not given permission to hump. Turn."
He scrambled, keeping his face to the floor as he turned, presenting his butt to her. She smacked at his ass a few times, the flesh reddening nicely as he whined. He tried to pull away. Clare put her boot against his hole, smashing his balls with the sole, grinding his hips to the floor and continued to beat his ass and the backs of his thighs with the newspaper. Satisfied that she had his attention, she tossed the shredded paper back onto the desk and watched his quivering form for a moment.
"Hips in the air," she commanded, removing her boot. "Not that high." She slid her boot under him, digging into his spongy balls. He yelped into the floor. "You will come when I want you to come. Your cock and balls belong to me. Under no circumstances are you to masturbate without my permission. You should have learned all that under your previous owners."
"Ma'am, yes, Ma'am," she heard muffled from the floor. His previous owners probably didn't know there was a dog lurking inside of him, she thought. She rubbed her boot on his balls, stepping a little more firmly to get her point across, and he grunted with a small quiver of his hips. Suspicious, she used her boot to flip him over. His belly and her boot were covered in a sticky whiteness. He whined, paws in the air as he presented his belly to her.
Clare sighed, looking at her new boots. "Clean my boot, dog." She patted her long black braid made a mental note to herself to tell Troy to order more newspapers.
***
Morning greetings were given as she made her way through the small crowd. Most people had kept busy during the previous evening and were sleeping it off during the morning. Breakfast was being served for anyone who was awake and wanted it. Clare’s House was famous not only for its safe and imaginative playtimes but also for the food; many tourists came in just to eat. There was a separate entrance for families with young children, keeping them away from the more colorful section of the House. Playtime was no allowed in the dining room. A room for playtime with food was in the main section of the House, in a specially build room that was easily cleaned.
“Ms. Clare, would you care for breakfast?” the morning host asked.
“Just chilled fruit and water, please, Manu,” she told him. He acknowledged her and put in the order.
In her office, well-lit and freshened for the new day, her assistant, Troy, was waiting for her with her schedule for the day. His brown hair was combed neatly back, resting against the back of his neck in a short tail. His suit for the day was a mock-Empire Guard uniform, human variation. Clare looked him over and shook her head.
“Striker and Thunder are docking today,” he told her as he gave his chest a brush.
“Put an identifier around your arm,” she said. “We don’t want you arrested for impersonating a Guard.”
He quickly plucked a piece of bright yellow fabric from his desk and showed it to her. “Already have it,” he said and slipped it around his bicep. The yellow band clashed horribly with the dark green sleeve but it would keep people from thinking he was an actual Empire Guard.
“What else is going on today?” she asked. He followed her into her office.
“Two new employees,” he said. “On your desk, ma’am.”
She sat behind her desk and turned the screen on. By the time new employees got to her, they had already been through a thorough background check, medical examination and psychological profile. Clare was the final step before they were sent to a team captain for training.
“Lotis, one of the new employees is in the waiting room,” he told her. “Would you like to see her now?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” she said, resetting her screen back to its desk inlay.
Troy left the room and returned a moment later with the girl. She crossed an ankle and dipped her knees in a curtsy. She looked young, barely out of her teens, but from the file Clare knew she was closer to thirty. Her blond hair was short, frizzed along the edges in the manner than a lot of young girls were currently wearing. Skin was fresh and clear, not a lot of meat on her bones. A little too thin, for Clare’s tastes, but the young look of her would attract a lot of the older men and women who preferred younger girls for parent/grandparent and aunt/uncle games. Sexual contact with under-aged persons was illegal throughout the empire, but that didn’t stop a few of the ill-reputed houses from acquiring them. Clare’s House was not one of those houses. Clare ran a clean house which enjoyed the added perks of having fleet ship crews entertaining themselves at her establishment, as well as being a safe place for people to come and get training in sexuality, if they were unable to get it any place else.
“I’m Ms. Clare,” she said in introduction. “This is my House. You were given the warnings?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the girl said. “No drug usage, no intoxication, no under-aged or non-consenting persons, which includes non-sentient species. I am already familiar with the inter-species warnings related to allergic reactions.”
Clare nodded. “Excellent. Do you have specific boundaries?”
Lotis was confident in herself, Clare saw with approval. She didn’t shrink before the Mistress of the House, and held her head with pride. Not enough to make her annoying, however.
“I don’t like hard pain, ma’am,” she said. “A few playful slaps on my ass can be fun, but dungeons are not my scene. I don’t get into bodily waste. Other than that, I can negotiate.”
Clare made the notes on the chart; if anyone complained that Lotis refused to cross her boundaries, the records were support her.
“Strip.”
The girl hesitated. Clare raised an eyebrow. Lotis colored slightly and shifted.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I was trying to decide on the manner,” she said. “Did you wish for me to take my clothes off or do you wish for a performance?”
Clare held back a chuckle. “I will be clearer in the future,” she said. “Just take your clothes off. Do you know how to perform?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lotis said as she removed her clothes, laying the thin skirt and top on the chair. “I can also dance.”
More notes were made. Clare stood and walked around her desk. Breasts were small, barely any pubic hair; naked, Lotis looked even younger.
“Do you often get mistaken for a child?” she asked. Lotis nodded.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said. “Usually 13 or 14. If I shave completely, I can get away with 12.”
Clare bent the girl forward. Lotis reached to the floor, keeping her long, thin legs together. Her ass was nicely rounded, and the position widened her hips, making her a pretty picture from behind.
“Are you naturally thin?” Clare asked. She slipped on a glove and touched the puffed lips that invited a caress; except for her own partners or play-friends, she never touched genitals with bare skin. Everyone had their quirks.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said after a brief moment. “I eat all the time.”
Lotis immediately moistened. Good, Clare thought; she won’t need artificial moisture. “Do you get off with all your clients?”
“Usually,” Lotis said. “I enjoy sex very much.”
“And if you are not enjoying it?”
“Then I speak up. Ma’am.”
Clare moistened a finger in the vaginal secretions and slid her finger into the small, tight ass. Lotis moaned. No issues, there, either, Clare thought. She took her finger away and told the girl to stand straight as she rolled the glove off and threw it away. She sat behind her desk and touched a button.
“You may dress,” she said. “Unhappy clients are clients that don’t return. Naturally, I don’t want my employees unhappy, either. You will never be forced to do something against your will. If you have a problem with a client, have your team leader attend you and see if it can be resolved. I would rather give a client a free session than have no client at all.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“My door is open; I insist on an open-door policy. I know you’ve probably heard it before and knew it was a bunch of political BS. It’s real here. Employees are family, any of them can confirm it. If you have any problems at all, and you are unable to resolve it through your team leader or the shift supervisor, you come to me. Chain of command first.”
There was a buzz from the desk.
“Leanna, ma’am,” Troy announced.
“Send her in.” The door opened, admitting another woman. She was tall, full breasts, and luxurious locks of rich brown hair. She held herself with confidence, standing at her full height without self-consciousness.
“This is Leanna,” Clare said and introduced Lotis. “She will be your team leader and trainer. She will go over rules and regs and expectations.”
Upon entering the front door of the establishment, security ran routine checks on all visitors before allowing them to enter. Pedophiles and other unprocessed antisocialists were rejected. Most were caught by LEOs and sent to retraining centers to have their brains set aright by either genetic or psych therapy.
Stony Cove was located within pirate central, though, so it wasn’t unusual to have a pedophile or rapist show up at the door. There was nothing wrong with sexual fantasy, and the Houses were happy to help people live those fantasies. The Forbidden Fruit was as old as life itself. Science had proven that a few people, however, had wires crossed in their brains and were unable to connect right from wrong. When caught by law enforcement officers, they had the choice of two options –genetic therapy to fix the crossed wires, if medical could prove that was the problem, or a complete memory wipe and retraining for people caught in an abusive upbringing which caused them to continue the abuse. A few people were able to receive psych-therapy, if their issues weren’t too dangerous. More extreme cases, if caught at the security check of a House, were held for LEOs to collect. By the time a new employee had gotten to Clare’s office, they had passed with flying colors.
“After orientation, we have a tradition here at Clare’s House to introduce new employees to the staff and clientele by having them walk the runway,” Leanna was telling Lotis as they toured the main room. Visitors were milling about, talking and laughing, having cocktails at the bar, and sitting in comfortable seats in which ever form their species found comfortable. “Now this is the main room. There are two places in the building where sexual contact is not allowed: here and in the main dining hall. Most assignations are done here. Visitors are not required to find an employee to play with; in fact, they quite often find playmates amongst each other, which is perfectly fine. The fee they paid at the door is for the use of the House, which includes the bar and dining room, employees and amenities.”
“The House I worked in on Proxima 4 allowed tips,” Lotis commented. “Is that allowed here? I know a lot of Houses won’t allow it.”
Leanna nodded. “We allow it up to a certain limit,” she said. “Small gifts, trinkets, local or empirical credits worth up to 1000EC is allowed. Anything else, if the client is insistent, will need to be cleared through Ms. Clare. It does happen; she is generous with us. But collecting tips isn’t the point here,” she warned. Lotis quickly nodded.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said. “I just needed to clarify.”
The different sections of the large House held different rooms made up for specific scenes. Warning signs were posted, telling visitors to make sure they check in with a host if they have contact with a Thayan or Ildum; the two species were extremely allergic to each other’s sexual secretions. If a client failed to check in after a sexual encounter with one, and then went to the other, the client and the second species would become very ill and the client would pay a hefty fine. Because of the extreme reactions, the Thayan and Ildum employees were kept at separate ends of the House. Most clients stayed in a small area, so it usually wasn’t a problem. If a client wished to experience both species in a day, he or she could visit the medical center and be ‘detoxed.’
The House was a square-shaped mansion. In the center was a large courtyard with gardens, ponds, and hot and cold swimming areas. Many people enjoyed playing under the open sky. Lotis looked out of the picture windows and saw many people in the middle of one form of sexual encounter or another. Small groups tended to form.
Off the courtyard, near the offices, were meeting rooms where demonstrations were held at appointed times. Anything from how a certain species had sex, how to use toys, how to approach a stranger with an offer of encounter, erotic massage, talking dirty, to extreme playtime in the dungeon.
“Are you any good at training?” Leanna asked as they moved up the stairs to the second floor.
“A little,” Lotis admitted. “I’m not very alpha.”
“Well, someone who is a trainer might ask you to assist,” Leanna told her. “It isn’t unusual for a parent to bring in their new adult child for training in positive sexual techniques. Sometimes we get small groups of new legals, all of them blushing to the roots of their hair, fur, feathers or scales, wanting to learn it all before heading out into their new worlds. Would you have a problem with that?”
Lotis smiled and shook her head. “No, ma’am,” she said. “I have done that before. It’s the leadership aspect that isn’t in me.”
Leanna approved. “It’s good that you know yourself so well,” she said. “We get people in who pretend otherwise, which of course finds a not so good end.”
At the top of the second floor, they turned right and headed down the wide corridor. There were a lot of doors and very few windows.
“Each room in the entire House is monitored by security,” Leanna said. “This is not for voyeur purposes. Things do go wrong, once in a while. Accidents happen no matter how careful a person is. This way we can get medical attention to client or employee right away. Or send security if someone gets out of hand. Clients are told about this before signing their agreements. They are welcome to have a copy of the record for their own purpose. For an additional price, of course. Records are deleted after four weeks.”
At the far end of the house, windows overlooked an open field. There were three barns spread out through the acreage, complete with barnyard animals.
“I thought there was no animal play here?” Lotis commented. Leanna looked out the window.
“There isn’t,” she said. “Most of the animals end up on dinner plates. The barns are set up for people to play in. Rolling in the hayloft and all that.”
Lotis’ frown cleared. A smaller house was set a couple acres away from the barns.
“Whose house is that?” she asked.
“Ms. Clare’s. We don’t go out there unless invited. She has a family and doesn’t wish to bring work home with her.”
Oh, Lotis mouthed with a nod.
***
In the main hall, Clare was considering a gag. That annoying woman with the equally annoying laugh was back, Clare noticed as she went for a walk out into the Grand Hall after releasing the new girl to her Trainer.
The energy was high, a fine hum underlying the atmosphere as people talked, laughed, and danced to the band. It was impossible not to notice her, with that air-head braying sounding through the room. Clare had a fairly high tolerance for most people but a certain leggy blond simply rubbed her fur the wrong way.
"What are you growling about?" she heard in her ear. Was she growling? "Her," Clare said in a low voice, jutting her chin in the direction of her ire. Every time the woman visited, Clare was inundated by employee and customer complaints about her. She invited herself to scenes, and tried to push a No into a Yes, which got her kicked out, once. She got back in by smiling sweetly at the Reservations clerk who didn't understand why everyone ignored him for weeks afterward. Dark Star glanced in that direction and arched an eyebrow in agreement. His iron gray fur on his chest, so neatly trimmed, laying against his skin like soft fur, gleamed as a back drop for a dark spot in the middle of his chest, earning him his nickname
"Yes, I've been avoiding her. Don't tell management." Clare smiled a little, she being one of the owners of Belanu. Dark Star was one of the senior associates who was usually training new-comers when he wasn't entertaining himself with the customers. He was high-priced, being a trainer.
The high stone walls of the Grand Hall, the main meeting area of the Belanu, was alive with activity. The restaurant was doing a brisk business, a waiting line for seating was being set up. It looked to Clare to be about a thirty minute wait. Assignations were being made, trading going on. An off-duty Master and several slaves were being introduced to the woman. She held out a hand to Jordan. He barely glanced at it. Clare stiffened as did several employees and locals who sent quick looks her way. Could the woman not see by his clan marks that he was House Alexander? No woman in the room would have presumed to place herself as his equal.
"Master Jordan, who doesn't shake hands," the woman commented, withdrawing the untouched hand. She went on to speak animatedly with the others. Clare's new pup, Lorrin, came up and held out the ordered glass of iced tea. Most Masters from that particular House would have taken a finger off the offered hand, and that was just for starters. She gave a small nod to Master Jordan who looked her way with a disapproving scowl before snapping his fingers, calling his slaves to his side as he moved away from the woman.
"Fetch that paddle," she quietly ordered Lorrin, gesturing toward the decorations on the outside of the Dungeon's entrance. The "decorations" were real. Lorrin returned with the requested item which Clare hung from her belt. Looking over to the Monitor, Clare signed a discrete question. The Monitor checked the log and gave a nod; the woman had signed all consents and releases, and had been Oriented. She wouldn't put it past Alexander to inundate her establishment with an unauthorized slave raid.
Most of the woman's friends scurried off at the sight of Clare approaching. She recognized a few as having visited the Dungeon in the past. The woman blithely rambled on, her high-pitched voice grating on Clare's nerves. Clare contemplated a gag once more. Veronica, that was her name, Clare remembered.
"Oh, hi, honey!" the woman sparkled with high animation at seeing Clare stepping up to the table. A couple more friends moved away hastily.
"It's Ms. Clare, girl," Clare forced herself not to snap out. "I believe you have signed all the paperwork and you’ve had your introduction to the Dungeon? Procedures, accountability, rules?" Veronica nodded at all the points, blond hair flying prettily. "You understand that you are under my temporary Ownership for the next 24 hours?" She got another flying nod. "Good. Stand."
Veronica stood quickly, breasts that were too perfect to be real were thrust out, hands at her sides, shoulders back. Clare pulled the chair away from the table and sat down. She reached up, grabbed a lock of golden hair, and yanked the girl down. The girl stumbled, yelping, and fell across Clare's lap. Screams of dismay echoed throughout the Grand Hall as the paddle landed on the girl's perfect butt. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to watch, silence reigning except for yelps, screams, and the sound of a paddle on flesh.
"Now hear this, girl," Clare said over the screeching. "You will NOT reprimand a Dom. You will NOT hold your hand to your betters. Shaking hands is a sign of equality. You are equal to none here. When spoken to, you WILL answer "Yes, Ma'am" or "No Ma'am". I don't hear heads rattling. You WILL crawl, that means on your hands and knees, over to Master Jordan, and there you will prostrate yourself at his feet, wait for him to notice you, and beg his forgiveness at your rude assumption. If he cares to do so, HE will be your Owner for your time here." She shoved the sobbing girl off her lap, taking a deep breath and a sip of her iced tea which Lorrin had placed before her on the table.
It took the girl a moment to gather herself together enough to begin to crawl, her bright red ass quivering in the air. A bruise was already beginning to form on one high cheek.
"The other way," Clare murmured. The girl hesitated, confused, and then turned, heading off once more. People quickly pulled back, a passage opening up for her to crawl through, leading directly to the booted feet of Master Jordan who stood waiting. The girl remained on her hands and knees, breathing hard.
His alpha slave put a bare foot on her back and shoved, sending the girl to her belly. "Prostrate means on your stomach, girl," slave Martin growled. The girl sobbed quietly, her face pressed into Master Jordan’s boot. He waited a good few minutes, standing patiently as he lovingly stroked his alpha's hair and face. His two other male slaves stood nearby, looks of disgust on their faces, lips sneering at the thing at their Master's feet.
Clare worried for just a fleeting moment about putting the girl with a Master from House Alexander where females are little more than dirt under their feet. Clare gave herself a mental shake; she trusted Jordan or he wouldn't be working in her House. Slave Martin, Jordan's alpha slave, was harsher than some of Alexander's Masters but he was also an excellent trainer, if one liked humorless soldiers.
"Speak, girl," Jordan acknowledged the girl. She took a gulp and raised her head enough to talk. "Sssir, I bbbeg your forgiveness for my my rudeness, Sssir," she stuttered. He looked over at Clare who nodded and made an offering gesture. She mentally crossed her fingers and sent up several quick prayers to which ever gods were listening. "On your knees," he ordered the girl. She got to her knees, approximating a Present position. Master Jordan unbuttoned his pants and took out his thick cock. He grabbed a fistful of blond hair and shoved his cock into her mouth. Deep in her throat, he let loose a hot stream of urine, emptying his bladder into her stomach.
She opened her eyes wide, gagged slightly, and swallowed on automatic reflex what seemed to be gallons of the hot acid. "Lick it clean," he ordered, pulling his cock out and holding it before her mouth. "Suck it, make sure it's empty." With a trembling chin, she sucked at the spongy head, getting the last few drops of piss from his urethra before cleaning him off with her tongue.
Master Jordan looked over to Clare and inclined his head. Her gift was accepted. Clare felt a momentary pang of pity for the girl and hoped that Jordan would remember that the girl was a customer who did sign a contract stipulating one day of service.
***
“Darling, are you sure you want to do this?” Clare glanced up at the two men sitting in front of her while she made notes on their record. She smiled to herself as Marc clutched gently at his lover’s hand. The boys were in love and devoted to each other, which anyone could see.
“I’m sure,” Tyler said firmly. He laced their fingers together. “Are you alright with it?”
“Yes, of course,” Marc assured him.
“Would you like time with a reader?” Clare offered. “We have several on staff; they’ll help you clarify your thoughts and make sure you know your mind and heart in this matter.”
The men shook their heads. “No, he’s just nervous for me,” Tyler told her. The men had made their appointment almost six months earlier; Tyler had a fantasy in which Marc was unable to fulfill simply because he was only one person. Their relationship was steady and healthy, getting close to eighteen years in a committed relationship. A lot of couples were bored of each other before their eighth anniversary; after eighteen, Tyler and Marc were still strong together. Mainly because they had a healthy sex life and they continued to talk to each other.
Clare approved their session. “Would you like to choose the staff you wish to be involved or would you like for me to pick?” she asked.
The men looked at each other. “Well,” Marc began thoughtfully. He was the quiet thinker, while Tyler was gregarious and walked around with his heart on his sleeve. “We did walk past two men who caught our attention. If they’re available, we’d like them involved; you choose the others, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Clare brought up the staff who were currently on duty, and swung the monitor around for the men to see. They pointed out the two men they spotted. Simon and Struan. Clare nodded and sent a reservation to their desks.
“Do you want a mixed party or just males?” she asked. “Just males, please,” Marc said. Clare nodded.
“Do you want a recording of your session?”
“Yes.”
“Erotic, exotic or pain?”
They were shaking their heads. “No pain, no humiliation,” Tyler said firmly. “Just erotic.”
Clare made a note. “Marc, are you participating?” she asked.
“Yes, I am,” he said. “Myself plus five, if we can get them. We will, of course, pay for anything extra. Money isn’t a concern.”
“You’re fine,” she assured him. She knew money wouldn’t be a problem for them, considering the families they were from.
She finalized their contract, had them confirm it, and sent copies of the transaction to Stony Cove’s database as well as each of their record houses and the empire’s database.
“I would be pleased to host you, if you wish,” she invited them. “You’ll have privacy; none of my staff will bother you except to see to your needs. Stay as long as you’d like.”
“We already have a suite at the Sunrise,” Marc told her. “We wouldn’t want to trouble you.”
“It’s no trouble,” she assured them. “It’s your choice, of course; I can have my staff cancel your suite and transfer your belongings to my home, if you’d like. You won’t offend me, if you’d rather stay at the hotel, but if you wish something more homey you’re welcome at my estate.”
There was a ping at Clare’s mind. The scent told her it was Simon. She acknowledged the ping. The door opened and a bald man entered. He was older than Marc by about ten years but still strong. He stood several inches over the men; his chest was bare, skin dark with the sun’s touch, muscles rippling across his torso. He had been poured into his tight pants.
“Simon, this is Tyler and Marc,” Clare introduced. “Did you look over their contract?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Simon said with a nod. His hands rested at the small of his back, booted feet spread in a comfortable stance. His velvet, baritone voice sent shivers through the men. “The stable is being readied. Troy is waiting to escort our guests to the preparation room.”
“Simon is one of our warders, so if there’s a problem don’t hesitate to tell him,” she said to the men. “Do you understand your rights, Tyler?” she asked him. “You may stop at any time; this is your scene, it’s your body. If Simon feels you are at risk, he will take over and halt the proceedings.”
“I understand,” Tyler said. Marc echoed him.
“And this is private?” Marc double-checked. “We won’t be surrounded by an audience?”
“No audience,” Clare assured him. “The stable will be locked down while it’s in use by you.” The men had already said they wanted private time, instead of being in the public’s eye in the main section of the House. They didn’t care who knew they were playing; they just wanted some privacy for Tyler’s fantasy.
“After you are prepped and changed,” Simon told them, “we will get to the stable through an underground pass. It was built for bad weather.”
“And security?” Marc guessed. Simon gave a rueful tilt of his head. The men thanked Clare and followed Simon.
Being a trustworthy House, a lot of highly placed people came to Stony Cove for vacation. Clare was known for her fastidious nature and the quality of her service. She clicked into Tyler’s record again, curious. Recommended by…. Daru’umi Jarlaith. She smiled and shook her head; her best friend’s consort and a commander of the imperial ship Daru. She sent a free pass to Jarlaith’s account as a thank you for the business.
The afternoon’s clients included two teenagers celebrating their entry to adulthood, Thayan sisters celebrating their etlu, an elderly couple looking for therapy for their decreased libidos, a new chatelaine who needed training in management, and a planning session with a personal assistant to a young lord who needed instruction before he was married in a political arrangement. The lord was in agreement to the instruction and to his arranged marriage, so Clare would oversee the planning for his training herself. The rest of the clients were re-routed to appropriate staff.
It had been a busy week and Clare was ready for the quiet of her home. First, though, she took a walk through the House, which she tried to do on a regular basis. Sometimes her people thought they were being helpful by NOT telling her of any small ‘situations.’ The main room was busy with people congregating, laughing and enjoying themselves as they ate, drank, and socialized. Assignations were made by the regulars, and new-comers were wide-eyed as they stared around.
One such couple, older than the usual crowd of hormonally-induced sex-fiends, were sitting at their table, nervously sipping at their water glasses. The gentleman looked to be about 70, and his wife around the same age. Both had kept themselves well, and were pleasing to the eyes. Clare smiled, wondering what prompted them to enter a playhouse.
“How are we doing?” she asked, stopping at the table. The couple jumped, not expecting anyone to speak to them. “I’m Clare, your hostess. Can I help you with anything?”
The man stood and gave a polite incline of his head. “Nate Parrin,” he said, holding his hand out. “My wife, Carla.” Clare shook hands. “We, uh, haven’t been in a place like this before,” he confessed nervously as he leaned in toward Clare. “It’s, uh, a little loud.”
“It is loud,” Clare agreed, wincing for him at the decibels. “May I ask where you are from?”
“From Basalla,” Nate said. Clare knew the planet; it was quiet and peaceful, with many old-fashioned small towns. The couple’s presence on Stony Cove surprised her.
“I know the place,” she said. “It’s a beautiful planet. What brought you out here?”
Mrs. Parrin shook her head. “Mid-life crisis,” she said ruefully.
Clare laughed. “We get a lot of those,” she said with a nod of understanding. “Don’t feel you need to do anything you’re not comfortable with; if you want to play, pick a room. You don’t need to invite anyone else, if you don’t want to. We also have therapists on staff, if you need a little time clarifying your needs to each other. How long is your pass for?”
“Oh, uh, just the day,” Mr. Parrin said.
Clare touched her comm. “Please add two more days to the Parrins’ account,” she said. “Full pass, on the House.” She smiled and patted the astonished man’s hand. “Now, you two relax and enjoy the amenities. Your pass is good to use within the next planetary year, so if you want to come back later, you can. Were you shown around? There is a smaller dining room that some of our clients prefer to use when they visit. We have excellent chefs, and quite often people come just for the food and conversation. Would you like to take a look?” The couple gratefully agreed, and Clare led them through the main room and down a hall. A Thayan guard stood outside a double-door, and he opened it when he saw that Clare was heading his way.
“Sujin, this is Mr. and Mrs. Parrin,” Clare said to the guard. “If you see them wandering around looking lost, please make sure they are assisted.” The guard tilted his ears forward in acknowledgment.
“Of course, rabu,” he said politely. “Welcome to our Home, rabintu,” he said to the couple.
Inside the dining hall, muted conversation was accompanied by the clink of glasses and silverware. Candles lit the room and a fireplace in the corner blazed merrily. Staff was made up of mixed species, mainly human and Thayan, since they could walk easier between tables, chairs, lounging pillows and settees. The room’s host immediately came to the door, pleased to see Clare.
“Milo, this is Mr. and Mrs. Parrin,” Clare said, presenting the couple. “Please take care of them.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Milo said, inclining his head. With the Parrins in good hands, Clare walked out across the main room again and to the manager’s office.
“Star, who toured Mr. and Mrs. Parrin?” she asked her second.
Dark Star brought the record up on the monitor. “Laith did,” he said. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes, there is,” Clare said. She told Dark Star exactly what was wrong. He lowered his ears in displeasure. “You’re wish, rabu?”
“Re-train her,” Clare said. “If another guest has the same problem, fire her. I won’t have our guests lost and confused. Especially the ones we should be showing the greatest respect to.”
“Yes, rabu.”
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