Read Spider Bight [Deep Space Mission Corps 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Online
Authors: Tymber Dalton
Tags: #Romance
“I’m not looking forward to going in there. Especially alone.”
“You’ll be fine. This is part of your job. If I thought there was any danger, no way in hell would I let you go, DSMC orders be damned. You should know that. And who knows, you might not have to go down to the planet at all.”
They docked with the Kal’moran space station. Once their utility umbilicals were secured and the gangway pressurized and cleared, Aaron walked Emi to the hatch. Commander Ren’yawlkin would meet Emi there personally.
He hugged her. “You’ll do great.” Then he punched in the hatch code to open it.
It slid open, revealing a Kal’moran woman in a military uniform standing at the other end of the gangway. They strongly resembled humans in outward appearance, although their interior physiology was somewhat different. Taller than Emi by almost two heads, she had long, flowing black hair pulled back off her face. Emi watched the woman’s amber eyes travel up and down her body before focusing on Aaron behind her. Then the Moran smiled and walked up to the hatch. “Captain Doctor Hypatia?” she asked, warily eying Aaron. “I am Commander Ren’yawlkin.”
“Nice to meet you.” She glanced back at Aaron. “This is Ca—Pilot Aaron Lucio.”
The Commander’s head cocked to the side. “He wears clothes?”
Emi looked back at Aaron, who remained silent although she sensed his stress levels ratcheting up. “Yes.”
“Huh. Interesting. Male crew,
and
you allow them clothing.”
Emi forced a smile. “That’s how we choose to do things.”
Emi sensed curiosity from the commander, but no disdain. “I do not suppose he is available for sharing or sale, is he?”
Emi nearly jumped at the immediate wave of unspoken outrage that blasted toward the Moran from Aaron, but he remained still and silent behind her.
“No, sorry. My men aren’t for sharing or sale.” She held up her left hand and pointed at her ring finger, where she wore her engagement ring and wedding band. “We’re married.”
The Moran’s brow scrunched. “Married?”
“Mated. We belong to each other.”
The Moran’s confusion morphed into amusement. Behind her, Aaron settled down a little, allowing Emi to feel the Moran’s emotions again. “Very well. I shall take you to meet the station commander.”
Another Moran ran up, slightly out of breath, and spoke to the commander in their language.
“And, late as usual, this is my pilot, Mlaui Mil’rawin.” The commander looked a little put upon.
“Hello,” the newcomer said.
Emi nodded. “Hi. Doctor Hypatia.”
“You can call me Rawin.” Then the pilot’s obsidian eyes perked up. She straightened. Emi realized she was staring at Aaron standing behind her. “Clothes? On a
male
?” She let loose a rapid-fire volley of Moran until the commander raised a hand, silencing her.
“It is their custom, Rawin,” the commander said to her pilot. “Now, Dr. Hypatia, let us go.”
Emi glanced back at Aaron before following the two Moran women. The pilot held back to walk in step with Emi.
“Dr. Hypatia, why do you allow your males clothes?”
“It’s how we do things.”
“Are your males also trained for pleasure, or just service?”
The commander looked back over her shoulder, but she wore a smile. “Rawin, you are rather chatty this morning.”
“I am curious.” She returned her attention to Emi.
“They’re my husbands. Mates.”
That seemed to command the pilot’s attention. “All
three
of them? That is absolutely unheard of. Or you must be very rich to afford three of them.”
Emi felt a wave of envy from the pilot. Sure, she could play that game. “All three of them give me
great
pleasure, believe me. I’d be lost without any of them.”
“I would be most honored to sample that,” Rawin said. “And I would be happy to exchange mine for yours for a night of sharing. I love to share my males. They are extremely talented.”
Emi felt an ugly spike of jealousy in the pit of her stomach. “Sorry, I don’t share.”
The pilot frowned. “What?”
The commander stopped suddenly. Emi almost ran into her. The Moran turned and let loose with a low, threatening-sounding stream of Moran at Rawin. The pilot’s eyes widened, then narrowed, as she listened to her commanding officer.
Finally, the pilot responded, throwing a barely concealed glare at Emi. Then she pasted a fake smile on her face.
The commander straightened. “My apologies, Doctor. I had forgotten to ask my pilot for some information before we left our ship.”
Emi could play that game, too. “Oh, sure. Not a problem.” She flashed a smile at Rawin, pretending she hadn’t just heard the commander dress her pilot down in front of a member of a different species.
Not that Emi had understood a word of it, but apparently the chastising tone was universal among spoken languages.
She felt Rawin’s ire clouding her the rest of the visit to the station’s commander. Rawin excused herself for a few moments. When she returned, her ire had been replaced by a smugness Emi didn’t understand.
As they were getting ready to leave the station commander’s office and Emi was hoping she’d get off the station scot-free, the station commander received a message.
After conferring with the station commander, Commander Ren’yawlkin looked apologetic. “Our leader, Mauri Dob’antu, wishes to meet with you and your men.”
“Me…
and
my men?”
“Yes. She wishes to show you around our city and have dinner with you.”
Emi grumbled inside. She’d been ordered by the DSMC to indulge the Kal’moran leader for the sake of diplomacy, and that meant she would have to accept the leader’s invitation to come down to the planet and meet with her and take the grand tour.
“Sure. That sounds…great.”
“Do you have collars for your men, or will you need some?”
“Um, collars?” She feigned ignorance and hoped they’d buy the act.
“No males on our planet may be uncollared. It is our law.”
Shit.
“No, I guess I’ll need some.”
“Will they require modesty pouches?”
“Eh, what?”
The commander seemed stumped for the word. Out of the corner of Emi’s eye, she caught the pilot smirking.
Emi couldn’t shake the certainty that the pilot was somehow behind the sudden invitation.
Commander Ren’yawlkin finally figured the word out. “Covering. We do not allow males to be clothed, for security purposes, but we do allow modesty pouches. Our males do not use them but some males of other species seem to feel less threatened when allowed to do so.”
Sigh.
Despite how she’d teased Ford, she really didn’t want a bunch of strange females ogling her men. “Yeah, guess I’ll need some of those, too. No chance of getting a waiver on the outfits, huh?”
“Sorry, it is how our laws are.”
“I can’t just leave the guys in the ship?”
“Mauri Dob’antu was very specific in asking that you and your entire crew come to the planet.”
The station commander called her assistant in. Emi assumed she was being ordered to come up with the appropriate garb for Emi’s guys. She left and returned a few minutes later with three collars and three pouches that were little more than skimpy G-strings.
“Will those be sufficient, Doctor?” Commander Ren’yawlkin asked.
“I guess they’ll have to do.”
Commander Ren’yawlkin received a page on her communicator and excused herself for a moment.
Rawin smiled at Emi. “I think you will like our world. I have four household males, including two pleasure males. I would be willing to put mine to the test against any of yours.”
Emi forced herself to smile and make it look real. “I appreciate the offer, Rawin, really I do. But it would be against our customs.” Hopefully that was a safe answer.
“Oh, but I insist, Doctor Hypatia. My pleasure males are considered two of the best there are. It is common for us to trade or share males between friends on our world. Come, Doctor, there is no harm in sampling the pleasures of our world for the sake of diplomacy, is there? I certainly would like to sample a human male’s skills. I have yet to experience a human male.”
Even if Emi hadn’t heard how this woman treated Aaron like shit, Emi wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with her scheme. “No, thank you. No offense, Rawin. It simply isn’t our custom. Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I need to get back to my ship and get my men.”
She ran into Commander Ren’yawlkin in the outer office. “Heading back to my ship.” She held up the collars and G-strings. “Got men to dress.”
“Would you like me to escort you back?”
“No, thanks. I can find my way.”
“Very well. I will be back to collect you in thirty minutes.”
“Peachy.” Despite the commander’s questioning look, Emi forced herself not to bolt out of the office and run all the way back to the
Bight
.
Aaron was waiting for her at the hatch when she returned. “Well? How’d it go?”
“You ain’t gonna believe this shit.” She held up the items.
His expression darkened. “What the hell are those? Or do I even want to know?”
“Guess what? In the interest of indulging diplomacy, you all get to accompany me down to the planet’s surface.”
“Dressed like
that
?”
“Yeah. Dressed like this.” She handed him a collar and G-string. “Be glad you get that much. Where’s the twins?”
He held up the G-string, staring at the tiny pouch in disbelief. “They wouldn’t make an exception for us, huh?”
“Diplomatic indulgence. That’s what you said.”
He scowled at her.
“No, they won’t budge. It’s their laws. Next time, let’s tell the DSMC we aren’t a service giving free space tows for breakdowns.” She walked over to the com panel and hit the page button. “Caph and Ford, to the bridge. Now.” She stalked down the main corridor, leaving Aaron standing behind her and still contemplating the G-string.
Caph and Ford were even less impressed than Aaron. Ford crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “Nope. Not going to do it.”
Aaron let out an exasperated sigh. “You have to.”
“Hey, one of us has to stay here with the ship. Ha!”
Caph looked practically morose as he stared at the G-string Emi handed him. “Sorry, Ford. We have the new system, remember? We can set it to automated and leave it.”
Ford’s triumphant expression crumbled. “Oh. Right. Dammit.”
“Look,” Aaron said, “I’m not any happier about this than you are, but we’re under orders to indulge diplomatic relations. I think we can suck it up for a few hours and do this.”
Ford glared at him. “Is that an order?”
“If you want to make it one, damn right it is.” Aaron headed for the door. “I’m going to quarters to change. Main hatch, ten minutes.”
Ford stuck his tongue out at Aaron behind his back as he left.
Emi shook her head at him. “Don’t be like that. He’s only following orders. We all are.”
Caph slid into the command chair and began setting up the automated system to take over during their absence. “Doesn’t seem right. We come to help them at their request. Now we have to be treated like animals.”
“Hey, think of it this way, at least I’ll be enjoying the view.”
A look of horror struck Caph. “What if I get a hard-on while wearing this thing?”
Emi giggled. “Then I guess everyone will see it.”
They rode a shuttle down to the surface. The two-woman Moran flight crew only addressed Emi and paid no heed to Aaron, Caph, or Ford, as if the men were little more than cargo.
Emi didn’t know if it irritated her or her men more.
For their part, the men hadn’t enjoyed their walk through the space station to the shuttle port. The intense, appraising looks from Moran females and males alike disconcerted all of them. Emi felt their discomfort as keenly as her own.
A Moran woman with reddish blonde hair met them at the shuttle port greeting center upon their arrival. “Captain Doctor Hypatia? I am Twren Klay’Baltin, but you may call me Baltin. I am the assistant to Mauri Dob’antu. I was sent to greet you and take you to the Imperial Home to meet with our leader.”
“Hi. Nice to meet you, but Doctor Hypatia is fine.”
“Oh, all right. I have arranged for a kennel for your men.”
That pulled Emi up short. “Kennel? They aren’t animals.”
Baltin turned. Emi felt a wave of horror from her. “Oh, I am sorry, Doctor Hypatia. I meant no offense. That is simply what we call them.” She pointed over to a row of several rooms with observation windows on the front. Comfortable benches, and a sink and toilet, outfitted each room. “They can wait there until you return and will be safe.”
Emi glanced at Aaron. She didn’t want to be separated from them. He tipped his head at her to agree to it.