Chapter 2 #2
The boy swallowed hard, his neck so long and thin that it was easy to see the throat muscles work. Rone had a fleeting and somewhat alarming thought about what it might be like to feed his cock down it.
“No, master. It’s, um, Icelandic. My people came from a small island nation back on Earth. It, ah, kind of got mostly destroyed by volcanic eruptions.”
Most of the boy’s words got lost in the translation for Rone. As if sensing that he’d said more than his master had intended or wanted, Frey clamped his lips shut tightly and stared furiously at the floor.
Rone waved his hand. “No matter. It is easy enough for me to say. Preen, just so you know, understands much of what we say.”
Frey nodded his head at Preen in an obvious acknowledgment of the being’s sentience.
Rone stopped chewing for a moment as he stared at the boy.
Frey’s curtain of bright, white hair fell past one cheek.
Now that it was clean, it appeared even lovelier and temptingly soft.
Frey lifted his delicate hand and slipped the strands behind his small ear.
The hair really should be braided, perhaps with ribbons entwined with it like a female’s would be.
Rone swallowed his mouthful of food down hard as the image popped into his head.
His dick rose to press against his fly. If the human understood the effect he had on his new master, he didn’t show it.
If anything, he seemed determined to be as unnoticeable as possible, practically shrinking in on himself.
Preen’s derisive laughter brought Rone back to his senses. Shooting his companion a dirty look, he chased his meal down with a long drink of water before standing up. “Clean this up. We’re going out.” He gave the order without thought, not caring who followed it.
As it happened, Frey jumped to the task, not giving Preen any chance to help.
The boy might prove useful after all. Rone scooped up the collars and leashes.
He gave Preen the same apologetic look he always did when binding his companion as if it were some mindless creature.
Doing the same to the docile human caused a different feeling inside Rone.
He liked the way the metal looked around the base of the slender neck, liked the possessiveness of it, although the cheap item didn’t do justice to the boy’s beauty.
Rone’s plan was to wander the station to see if he’d garnered any attention from his stunt with Arpell.
If he were lucky, the male himself would make a move against him.
Rone would leverage any attack as a way of learning information.
The trick would be to act as if he didn’t have a care in the universe.
Taking a leisurely stroll with his pets, buying supplies, should do the trick.
Frey needed new clothing. A few ribbons wouldn’t go amiss, either, and if Preen chose to give him grief about it?
Well, he could always threaten his companion with a long journey through a short cargo bay.
As usual, he looped the end of Preen’s leash around his belt to give the pretend pet a little more freedom of movement.
Frey, however, Rone kept close, his fist wrapped around a good portion of the lead so that the human had to walk within Rone’s shadow.
Frey didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he edged even closer to Rone the moment they entered the main corridor of the station.
Given the appraising looks of the males they passed, Rone couldn’t blame him.
How frightening must it feel to be the only one of your species in a place filled with larger, stronger beings, especially when most of those you encountered looked at you as if you were a tasty treat?
Rone bared his teeth at more than one male, taking great satisfaction in making each one avert his gaze and hurry past.
Being a far-flung and inconsequential station, likely it didn’t see much in the way of deliveries of legitimate goods.
Illegal ones were a different story. But Rone wanted clothing for his human pet at the moment, not armament.
He headed for the one place he’d seen selling personal items and hoped he’d find what he had in mind.
The moment he entered, a thin, older male materialized as if he’d been waiting desperately for a customer. The male bowed deeply.
“Sire, how may I be of assistance?”
The cultured and obsequious tone surprised Rone. He wouldn’t have expected it way out here and wondered what this male had done so wrong in his life to end up in the back of nowhere.
“I’m in need of clothing for my pet.” He tugged gently on the leash to pull Frey forward.
The shopkeeper’s eyes lit up with appreciation. “My, how exotic. One hears tales, of course, but to see it with one’s eyes is another matter.”
With a hint of teeth, Rone glared at the clerk and pulled the boy tightly to his side.
“Its former master kept it hidden away most of the time, I expect,” he said, lapsing instantly into the expected reference to Frey as if he were a mere thing.
“I’m inclined to show off my pretty possession.
I want something relatively warm, as this is a delicate creature, yet suitably attractive.
Something to match the color of its eyes, perhaps. ”
Rone gently cupped Frey by his chin and raised his face so that the other male could see the blue. The male inhaled a sharp breath.
“Quite arresting, sire. I’ve never seen the like.
Let me check what I have.” The clerk took a step back and tapped on his wrist unit.
A thousand points of light shimmered in the air before taking shape.
“I’m afraid my stock is limited out here.
As you can see, this is intended for a female, but the fabric can be re-cut and shaped to make a long tunic and trousers. ”
Rone contemplated the image of a pale blue gown. The color was perfect, and he tried not to think too hard about why he was so intent on dressing his pet in a female color. “Show me what that would look like.”
The clerk tapped some more and the image changed. It became a deep V-neck tunic that hung to mid-thigh and a pair of soft, clingy pants.
“Take the waist in more so that the tunic hugs the hips and slash the sleeves and legs so that skin will show when it walks.”
Preen made a rude noise. When Rone glared down at him, the creature gestured, “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“It’s going to help with my image as an opportunistic privateer.” Rone didn’t think he was being very convincing, even in a silent communication.
Preen agreed. “Oh, so it’s for the good of the mission? Right.”
Ignoring his companion’s obvious sarcasm, Rone turned his attention back to the clerk and his revised image. “Yes, that will do.” He forced himself to play the part he needed to by sliding his hand down to cup Frey’s ass. “It’ll look quite fuckable in that.”
The clerk cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. If I could just get its measurements?”
Rone pressed Frey forward enough for the clerk to scan the boy’s body.
Then they waited while the male quickly left to retrieve the outfit from the store’s processor in back.
It took little time, and when he held it out for Rone’s inspection, Rone found that the cloth was very soft.
Of course, it was intended for females, not that many chose to live on such a station.
“Is there a place where it can change? I don’t want it stripping out in the open.”
“Yes, of course, sire. This way.” The male stepped aside and gestured toward the opening he’d just come through.
Unhooking the leash, Rone gave Frey another gentle nudge forward. “Go with him and put on your new clothing.”
“Yes, master.”
The pet didn’t hesitate to do as told, which again both pleased and irritated Rone. Having a well-trained and docile pet was all to the good, so why did Rone keep wanting to see more spirit in the boy? It made no sense.
Moments later, he lost his train of thought when Frey returned in his new outfit.
Frey stood, blinking furiously at the floor.
His master’s heated gaze made him feel as if he were naked instead of almost fully covered.
For the first time since his capture, he felt pretty warm.
The material his clothing was made out of felt light, yet it held his heat.
Not everywhere, of course. Whenever he moved his arms and legs, the slits in the fabric popped open to expose him to the cool air.
He didn’t mind, not really. It was still better than before, except the overtly provocative style of the clothing made him feel kind of slutty, more so than usual since he’d become an alien’s whore.
His new master didn’t mind, obviously. He’d picked the style to accentuate Frey’s body, putting him on display in a way that Arpell had never had bothered to do.
It occurred to Frey suddenly that he didn’t even know his new master’s name.
No one had said it as of yet, and, naturally, his master hadn’t introduced himself.
It wasn’t as if Frey would ever be able to call the guy by his name.
No, he was Frey’s master, that was for sure.
He’d claimed Frey’s body over and over, leaving Frey sore and tired, despite the night spent in the comfortable bed.
He’d had a full stomach, though, and that meant a lot.
For the first time since his capture, he didn’t feel the gnawing ache of hunger and the dryness of thirst. No new bruises marred his body, either.
Frey didn’t think he’d ever gone a whole night without earning a smack or two from his master without even trying.
Things were definitely better, at least for the moment.
If wearing slutty clothes was the price of eating and avoiding a beating, he’d take that bargain for as long as it was offered.
“Does it please you, sire?” the diffident sales clerk asked.
Frey’s master grunted. “It will do.”
“And these, sire?” The clerk held up Frey’s T-shirt and pants.