Marris sighed as he stood just outside the carriage which had served as the slaves' sleeping quarters after their night with the Urisi sailors. Wind whipped off the ocean and blew his hair before his eyes. "This is most unusual, my Lord."

"Nevertheless, you will honor my request," said Mandas. He stood facing the wind so the breeze would push back whatever few strands of hair had escaped his ruthless brush and gel. "Or are you to tell me the renowned hospitality of the great Ambassador Norlan extends only to foreigners and not his peers?"

"Normally, I would have to clear this with Lord Norlan."

"Normally, a proper Lord Ambassador would not have one with such proclivities in his employ," said Mandas in a lofty voice. "I could still make that possible."

Marris bit his lip. He wanted to say such threats would go only so far, that everyone had a point beyond which they would no longer participate in such duplicity. Yet he had changed his identity three times in his life because of "proclivities" which he could neither ignore nor change. He did not want to suffer it a fourth time. "Very well, my Lord," said Marris in a low voice. "But I cannot guarantee there will be no questions asked."

"Then you had best find some good answers before those questions materialize, for I am sure I will no longer be around to help you."

Marris resisted the urge to give the Lord Ambassador a disgusted look, but he could not stop himself from wrinkling his nose for a moment. "I will prepare her," Marris said in a sullen voice as he turned towards the carriage door. He pulled back a flap of canvas which had been buttoned over the entrance to shield against the wind.

Mandas rapped the end of his cane against Marris's hand. Marris snatched his hand back and clenched his jaw as Mandas gave him an oily smile. "First listen to how I wish you to prepare her ..."

Marris listened and uttered another small sigh, though he replied with a meek nod before stepping inside.

Marris pulled the canvas over the opening and buttoned it back, but it flapped in the wind regardless. He shivered at the chill which seemed to blow straight through the flimsy fabric walls. His eyes flitted between the slaves still curled up in slumber, most draped in the blankets he had procured. A few had tossed them off during the night, and at least one writhed in the throes of an erotic dream, her bloodstream still saturated with the arousal drug. Spots dotted the furs where a man's seed had leaked from her tunnel during the night.

His eyes shimmered as he looked at the chains whose ends still lay coiled on the floor. Even this "oversight" would have been enough to cost him his job, but he had not the heart to secure them to the slaves' collars, not after he had witnessed how worn and ragged many had been upon their return from the fleet.

His gaze grew more wistful as it settled on Amanda. Marris was still amazed. Not only had she not been as worn out as the others, but she had appeared as if she had actually enjoyed herself. Now he was reluctant to wake her, her sleep the most peaceful of any of them. Nevertheless, he bent over her and nudged her shoulder.

Amanda let out a low groan and drew her knees towards her chest. A slow sigh escaped her lips, and she appeared to slip deeper into slumber. Her lips twitched into a small smile.

Marris shook his head and gently shook her.

"Mmm, what?" Amanda mumbled. She turned over and opened her eyes, then jerked to a seated position. "Oh! Um, yes, Master? What ... what may this slave do for you?"

For a moment, Marris felt the urge to explain everything, as if in need of understanding and forgiveness from her. Instead, he stood and gestured for her to rise. "I need to take you into the next compartment and ... and prepare you."

"Prepare this slave, Master?" Amanda asked as she stood up, blinking the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes and training them on his.

Marris had never seen a slave so bright-eyed. He tried to strike a more authoritative tone. "Yes, of course, slave. You are not presented to someone of his stature unless you are properly prepared."

Amanda blinked in confusion and glanced around her. The bright morning sun made the fabric glow. It seemed far too early to be summoned to the fleet again.

Marris took her arm and prompted her to follow. "Here, come along," he said in a reluctant voice.

Vortas found Gedric standing at the railing in the aft quarter of the ship, staring across the ocean. The Lord Admiral paused a moment before he approached the Fleet Captain, clearing his throat for no other reason than to alert Gedric of his proximity. "Longing for the open seas once more, Captain?"

"That depends," said Gedric without turning his eyes towards his superior. "As to whether or not it is a vain hope."

Vortas heaved an earnest sigh as he draped his arms along the railing. "That I cannot tell you."

"Of course, you believe I will see them again, but only as a prisoner on my way back to Oceanus for trial on whatever ridiculous charge they may dream up."

"And for that I am sorry."

Gedric looked at him. "Sorry you said it or sorry you believe it will come true?"

"I have no such insight into the future, and I have no business in speculating. And for doing just that in the past I again apologize."

Gedric sighed and shook his head. "Nothing makes sense. I almost regret you foisting the Oceanus slave upon me."

Vortas raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"She made me remember what I miss from the Nobility, damn her," Gedric muttered.

Vortas ventured a small smile. "Then I take it she did not, ah, soil your bed as you had feared."

"Yes, I enjoyed myself, perhaps more than I should have." He looked over the waters again and glanced down to where the waves broke against the creaking timbers of the hull. "Though I do not remember Oceanus slaves being quite as she is."

"She is a D'ronstaq slave, you know."

"It goes beyond that. I look at her, and I feel there is something else lurking below the surface, something she either intends to show me or tell me."

"Then perhaps it behooves you to take her to your bed again this evening."

Gedric narrowed his eyes and straightened up, turning away from the railing. "Yes, if for no other reason than to prevent her from being used by others. As much as I am impressed and grateful for the skills and dedication of this crew, I do not trust them to treat such a prize properly."

Vortas nodded, his eyes cloudy. "What pains me is having to leave such a girl to the Urisi."

"That she has survived their training with her skills and Oceanus-bred demeanor intact says she has either a very kind owner or she is far more intelligent and resilient than even the vaunted D'ronstaq slaves," said Gedric. "And I, too, wish we did not have to leave her."

Vortas shook his head. "Do not let that line of reasoning go any further, Fleet Captain."

Gedric was already waving a hand. "Yes, yes, I know. Having a slave permanently on board is bad luck. A stupid superstition which has no basis in fact."

"What matters is how the crew will see it."

"Understood. But you cannot stop me from wishing it could be so."

Vortas looked askance at Gedric. "How have you become so enamored of her in such a short span of time?"

"Perhaps she reminds me of what we have lost. I do not believe it truly had reached me until now. I do not want to accept it, because it means she would be nothing more than a relic of something we can never have again."

Vortas clasped the Fleet Captain's shoulder. "This is not over yet. The Urisi are holding their cards close to the vest, but I feel they have at least one more play to make. We must be ready when they do."

Gedric allowed himself a small smile. "Then perhaps I have more incentive to accept Amanda to my bed again tonight, as it would be proper to show appreciation for the generosity of our hosts."

Vortas chuckled. "Now that's the spirit! I will remember this personal sacrifice you are making for the men!"

Gedric smiled and laughed for the first time since he had joined the Lord Admiral's fleet.

Amanda knelt quietly on the furs which lined the bottom of the carriage and wished she could relax her arms so her wrists did not feel so strained inside the shackles. A short length of chain lay taut between the shackles and her collar, drawing her wrists up her back, her arms tight and strained. When she tried to relax them, the collar tugged into her throat.

Her thighs ached. Her knees were forced to spread wide by shackles which bound her ankles in a crossed position. Another taut chain connected her ankles to her wrists, preventing her from rising lest it pull on her wrists and her neck in turn. She dared not relax her thighs lest the chain attaching her collar to a hook high on the wall behind her also tugged against her throat.

The arousal drug she had been given the day before had all but worn off, yet she managed to make her pussy damp in anticipation. It was pure duty and nothing else. She let out a ragged sigh and wondered if the night before had been a dream after all.

But then the door to the carriage opened, and she understood. Her eyes glistened but never wavered. They remained locked upon Mandas' slim form as he stepped into the coach, flickering only briefly when he thumped his cane against the floor.

A smarmy smile stretched across his narrow face as he stepped forward, each step punctuated by another tap of the cane. Amanda remained still and resolute; only a very faint ragged sigh and a slight tremble as he loomed over her betrayed any other emotion.

Mandas regarded her and tapped his cane once more. In one smooth motion, he twisted his hand and withdrew the rod hidden inside the cane and whipped it between Amanda's legs.

Expecting a blow, Amanda flinched, her breath wheezing as chains drew tight and yanked the collar against her throat. Her hands writhed inside their restraints, shaking when her muscles tensed too hard for her to relax the pressure around her neck.

After another few moments of struggling for air, she realized the rod now rested against her folds. It slid slowly back and forth, each methodical stroke drawing a less strangled breath from Amanda's lips. When a low moan emerged, the rod had become slick with her gathering moisture. Amanda's eyes drifted closed as her hips rocked against the rigid shaft, her now easier breath becoming a soft pant.

"I have no idea where Oceanus men get this unfettered slave fetish from," Mandas sneered. "Slaves are so much more fun restrained."

He slowed and lowered the rod, holding it a bare finger's breadth from her needy flesh. Amanda whimpered and tried to lower her pussy to it, but the chains pulled tight against her collar once more.

"And so much easier to control and discipline." Mandas smirked as he drew the rod to his side. "No orgasm for you, slave, until you have earned it."

"Th-this slave has some information to--"

Amanda's next word became a tiny yelp when he whipped the end of the rod across a nipple. First pain flared bright white, then pleasure spread pink and warm, her pussy throbbing along with her nipple.

"And you pick up such bad manners from these Oceanus barbarians," said Mandas. "I suppose they give you leave to speak all the time."

Amanda swallowed and said nothing.

"I would tell you to remember your place, but I suppose you are hoping that will not matter after a time, hmm?"

Amanda did not want to react, but she could not suppress the hopeful look in her eyes. If the Oceanus fleet was sent away, she would not mind leaving with it and remaining Gedric's personal slave.

"Much better. Now tell me what you know of this Gedric V'riis ..."

Norlan had given orders to his servants not to awaken him at the usual hour, and now he regretted it as he struggled to shake off the throes of a disturbing dream.

Norlan squinted at the light and wiped his face with his hand as he sat up. The sheet fell away from a chest still broad, but exposing a belly which was soon to match. He frowned as he kicked off the beddings and thumped his feet to the floor beside his bed.

He hated recalling his dreams. He saw them as nothing but annoyances and did not believe half of what either the Healers or the Mages said about them. Not that the two groups could ever agree as to what they were. They served only to distract him from more important concerns, such as how he was going to stop the insufferable Mandas from disrupting relations between the Urisi and the new regime in Oceanus.

This was the only conclusion Norlan could reach. Mandas must believe a ripe opportunity existed in driving a wedge between the two nations. What frustrated him was that Mandas, a man who possessed only a fraction Norlan's diplomatic skill, could see something which Norlan could not.

Norlan summoned his servants, and they began to draw his bath. Word was sent to the kitchens, and a proper breakfast would be waiting for him once he was done with his morning ablutions.

The dream itself had made little sense, and he chided himself for bothering to recall it as he stripped off his night clothes. It had been little more than the scene by the docks playing itself out again, with Mandas leading the slaves to the ship. What had been different were the slaves themselves. They would not stop staring at him with glowing scarlet eyes.

The worst came when he had turned around and was confronted by a servant, holding a long-bladed knife, which he raised above his head as if about to plunge it into Norlan's heart. That was when he had woken up.

Now naked, Norlan left his bedchamber. Steam drifted from his bathing chamber, and a servant was already on hand with a robe for when he was done.

As he approached the chamber, he passed near the hall which led to the corridor just outside his suite, and an annoyed voice penetrated the closed door at its end: "Does he not care what is happening with his own slaves? Surely he will make an exception and grant me audience when he understands--"

Norlan sighed and stepped into the billowing clouds of steam. As he slipped into the warm water, he heard the door to the suite hastily open and close. He closed his eyes and waved off his servants when they motioned towards him with sponge and brush. He wanted to enjoy his few moments of respite before another servant advanced and crouched by the edge of the pool to whisper into Norlan's ear in a hushed and nervous voice, "My Lord, a thousand apologies, but Master Halno will not--"

"Yes, I know," Norlan said without opening his eyes.

The servant let out his own tiny sigh and shook his head, not knowing how to interpret the response. "My Lord, what shall I tell him? He is most persistent and most agitated."

"Tell him I will investigate the matter myself."

"Very well. Is that all?"

"No." Norlan opened his eyes. "Have Larra prepared for me and taken to my pleasure chamber."

The servant hesitated, but nodded. "At once, my Lord."

Mandas let Amanda speak without interruption, and when she was done, he spent a long silence looking thoughtful as he paced about the carriage, tapping the end of his cane against the floor.

Amanda almost wished to feel the rod against her pussy. The arousal drug had worn off, yet she felt needy, her body still conditioned to respond once it had been stimulated. Her arms and legs were tiring, the collar digging more into her throat. She doubted it could grow tight enough to asphyxiate her, but she was not sure she could stop herself from panicking and do herself more harm.

"And you have gleaned nothing more about him?" said Mandas in a crisp voice.

"I could not obtain any more information from him without looking as if I were prying," said Amanda. "The best I could do was coax him into taking me a second night."

"And will he?"

"I hope so, Master," said Amanda, her voice growing strained from the press of the collar against her throat.

Mandas' lips curled into a smirk. "Oh, I am sure you do." He strode forward and drew out the rod, which he rubbed against her folds. "You are still wet. Thinking about it now, are you?"

Amanda closed her eyes and moaned. "Yes, Master."

Mandas stroked faster, eying Amanda's reaction. As her pants rose to a moaning crescendo, he pulled the rod away, her wetness running down its sides as he drew it towards him. Amanda bit her lip to suppress a whimper, and her pussy ached for relief.

"You wish to ask something of me."

Amanda did not reply. Technically it was not a question. She assumed he was trying to tease her further by making her beg for sexual relief which he was not about to grant.

But then the tip of the rod suddenly appeared before her downcast eyes. She flinched, but he simply touched it to her chin and forced her to raise her gaze to his.

"Come now, no games," Mandas sneered. "I already do not think of you as a proper slave. You may as well speak whatever is on your mind."

Amanda gazed into his face and believed he was serious, yet it took her another moment to form the words. "Master, what is it you wish to gain from what I am doing with this man?"

Mandas smirked and withdrew the rod. "You are supposed to be the flower of undraughted intelligent goodness, yet you cannot figure this out for yourself. Oh, very well. Gedric is a means to an end. He has ties to Nobility. There must still be remnants of the Oceanus Nobility about. He is my means to reach them. They must be against everything the new regime stands for. And since Norlan seems very much in favor of the new regime -- which he helped bring about --"

Amanda allowed herself no reaction. Mandas did not need to convince her to move against Norlan. Whatever loyalty she was willing to show him had since vanished.

"-- then I am very much in favor of anything he is against." He smiled. "You see, through Gedric, I can reach the remaining Oceanus Nobility as if I were right there with them."

Amanda's eyes widened. His words had triggered a memory. For some odd reason, she was reminded of the mystery behind the Inonni and their fantastic Portal technology.

Mandas inserted the rod back into his cane and thumped the latter against the floor before he turned towards the door. "We will see what information you obtain from him tonight. But it best be more than you have presented thus far, if it is to support my plans."

"I will try, Master," Amanda said in a breathless voice, but he had already departed when the last syllable left her mouth. She slumped against the chains despite the sharp tug on her throat, her sigh emerging as a wheeze.

With his bathing robe still wrapped about him and his hair still damp, Norlan stepped into the pleasure chamber and paused at the door.

Larra knelt in perfect, obedient form. Her wrists lay shackled behind her and chained to her collar behind her back. She knew exactly how to hold herself so the collar would remain comfortable, yet her arms would not tire too soon. Her pussy glistened in arousal, and she remained silent but for her soft pants of lust.

Her eyes rose to his and grew sultry as he entered the chamber. Her breath quickened, and her sex oozed. Her womanhood lay bare, slick, and unsealed, pulsing with her heartbeat and warm with desire for his touch should he deign to bestow it. Her gaze held nothing but a wish to please, and her body begged only silently for sexual release, as was proper.

"Your slave eagerly waits to be used for your pleasure, Master," Larra said in perfect, breathy anticipation mixed with a deeply submissive tone. Proper protocol and behavior with every look, every action, every emotion. A perfect, well-trained Urisi slave.

Just as he had always thought he had wanted from Amanda.

Norlan's manhood swelled, yet he knew not exactly which thought had triggered it. He parted his robes and arranged himself among the cushions covering the floor. He lay mostly on his back, but propped up his shoulders and head so he could gaze upon her.

He gestured once, and Larra did not hesitate. She crawled towards him on her knees and straddled his body, her eyes glittering as they beheld the prize which pulsed against his belly.

Norlan did nothing to help her. He did not need to. She positioned her hips over his and maneuvered the head of his cock to her folds in the span of a few breaths. With a single, quick roll of her hips, she speared her sex with his manhood. She closed her eyes and let out a husky sigh as she leaned forward and sank him deep inside her, until he was swallowed up by her wet and aching pussy.

She rocked her hips, his cock sliding back and forth in her tunnel with perfect cadence. She gave little heed to the pacing of her own pleasure, as it mattered not. She would continue regardless of whether or not she had climaxed. And yet she leaned forward and altered the angle just enough to engage his shaft harder against her womanhood. She kept her vocalizations soft, her rising excitement betrayed only by her trembling.

Norlan closed his eyes and tried to enjoy his rising pleasure and the soft clink of her chains. He reminded himself this was proper and correct. His mind flickered back to a memory from the D'ronstaq Manor, when Roquan's slaves tended to him. He had thought it so strange how they remained unfettered even in moments of intimacy, when it was demanded a slave be her most obedient.

And now he asked the question of himself again: why had he wanted Amanda in the first place?

He heard a shuddering breath and understood Larra had just orgasmed. No matter, as she did not break stride, save for the deeper pant to her breath. His own pleasure rose nicely, and he gave no indication he wished anything else of her but this.

Larra humped faster when she sensed her Master was close. She uttered a tiny moan as a second climax surged over her, only moments before Norlan began to throb inside her. He was strangely quiet, or so she thought, his pleasure far more muted than normal. Only a very faint pant was evidence of his pleasure.

She kept rocking, rubbing her pussy against his flagging member until he grasped her hips. She stopped and rose, letting him fall from her pussy and flop against his belly.

Norlan flicked his fingers, and Larra retreated to where she had knelt when he had first arrived, her breathing still hard from the lingering post-orgasmic ache of her sex. Norlan drew himself up and regarded Larra as he slipped on his robe.

Now what?

Speaking to a slave other than Amanda in anything other than quick gestures or curt commands struck him as unnatural. Were Halno to learn of what he was contemplating, he would resign on the grounds his employer was mad.

"Larra."

Her dark and eager eyes rose to his.

"You will tell me what happened in the slave quarters concerning your fellow slave Amanda."

Larra gave Norlan an odd look. "This slave begs forgiveness, Master, as she does not understand what you wish."

"It is a very simple request, and I am at a loss as to why such a thing seems so difficult for people under this roof. But I will try to clarify it further: tell me what happened the day Amanda was taken to be punished for striking you."

Yet Larra hesitated for another moment longer, as if expecting her Master to suddenly reveal it had been an elaborate test. Why would someone ask such a thing of a slave? No one asked a slave anything. Urisi society believed only what they saw, or what they could easily be convinced into believing they had seen.

Which is exactly what Larra had counted on when she had first thought of her plan.

Larra had known from the moment Amanda had arrived that the foreign girl had the potential to rivet all his attention. There would be little to spare for those like Larra, who looked to become his favorite for awhile, and then be sold into a more prestigious household. Larra had felt it was her duty to make her Master understand his mistake in purchasing Amanda. She had hoped Amanda would be gone within a moon, sold off at auction to whoever was desperate enough to have her.

Amanda was the kind of slave Larra despised: undraughted, but refusing to use it to her proper advantage. At least then Larra might have called her an ally.

"This slave is still not sure what happened, Master," said Larra in a properly sad and submissive voice. "This slave tries to get along well with all of Master's slaves."

Norlan waved a hand. "Yes, I understand. Please continue."

"This slave recalls only that the foreign, dark-haired slave struck this slave across the cheek."

"And you have no recollection of what led to this action?"

Properly wide-eyed, Larra shook her head. "This slave has tried not to think about it too much, Master. This slave does not want to be hurt any more."

Norlan considered, and Larra could only stare into the silence. She believed she had planned this so well. She knew her Master had intended to lend most of his slaves to the Oceanus fleet. She had assumed she would be spared as the most senior of his slaves. Amanda would be kept behind and punished severely. Then she would have her Master's attentions entirely to herself for the span of nearly a quarter moon, and he could see for himself the contrast between her and Amanda.

But somehow Amanda made it to the fleet. And now this.

"But surely you remember something?" said Norlan, impatience edging his voice. "Something you said or did which upset her."

Larra gasped. "This slave would never harm anyone, Master!"

"Accidentally upset her. Can you think of anything at all?"

Larra blinked and shook her head in feigned confusion.

Norlan uttered a windy sigh. "Very well." He turned towards the exit. "I am through with you for tonight. You will be returned to your quarters shortly."

Larra's mouth opened in surprise as the door closed behind Norlan. That's it? Larra thought with no small degree of irritation, despite showing nothing but proper slave serenity on her face. And yet the corners of her mouth tried to twitch downward into an angry frown.

"May I free her from her chains now, my Lord?" said Marris as Mandas sauntered past.

Mandas turned on his heel and gave Marris a wicked grin. "Why so hasty? Why not take advantage of such a sweet, wet ... oh, that's right, you can't, can you?"

Marris let out a tired sigh and said nothing.

"The rest should go without saying, but it seems I have need of late to tell everyone how to do their job if I wish it done right." Mandas stepped forward. "I was never here. I left the dock last night after delivering the slaves and never returned."

"Yes, my Lord, I understand."

"And if Amanda is foolish enough to tell that lout Norlan any of what I told her, you will swear it is nothing but a delusion."

Marris swallowed. "Of course, my Lord."

"Oh? Is that a bit of sentiment I am hearing, Marris? For someone you have no interest in bedding?"

"She is a very bright and intelligent girl!" Marris blurted. "I would prefer she not be hurt."

"Then it behooves you to continue assisting me, as I have nothing but her future safety in mind."

Marris simply could not twist his face into even an approximation of an expression which suggested belief in the Lord Ambassador's statement.

"You doubt me?" asked Mandas.

"I doubt we can keep this concealed from Lord Norlan."

"We can and we will. He is not the godlike being that people seem to think he is."

"But this could go very badly for even you if--!"

Mandas loomed over him. "Do not even think you can run to Norlan and get a better offer for turning against me," Mandas snarled. "He will offer you only the door, and then use your information against me. And I can take you down far more than simply losing a prestigious position."

"That is not what I meant!" Marris cried.

"Bloody hellfire it's not. All men seek advantage, the lowly even more so."

"I meant the plans may be unraveling even now."

Mandas paused. He snatched Marris' collar in his hand and drove his back against the lantern pole. "What does that mean?"

Marris bit his lip. "I-I just meant--"

"Does someone else know of our arrangement?" Mandas demanded.

"Some ... some may suspect ..."

"Who suspects?"

Marris' eyes glistened. "A ... she's ... o-one of the washing maids. She suspects I'm doing some sort of deal with ..."

He trailed off when Mandas let go of him and burst into laughter. "A washing maid? You are worried about a washing maid? I had heard those of your ilk are weak-willed, but I had never suspected this much."

"That's not the point!" Marris cried in a weak voice. "If she managed to figure it out, then--"

"A washing maid has less influence in a household than even the slaves. Do not be such a coward. Or make false claims of problems where there are none."

"But--"

"And if you are that worried about her, then discover some means of getting her out of the way."

Marris' eyes widened. "My Lord, you can't mean--!"

"I mean, you will discover some means of getting her out of the way. You are free to interpret that as you please. But remember this: nothing should be more important to you than coming through for me. Do I make myself clear?"

Marris sighed and nodded. "Yes, my Lord. Crystal clear."

As Amanda sat waiting for her temporary Master, she wondered if she had found another ally from among Norlan's staff.

In the waning moments of the afternoon, Marris had made the rounds with the slaves and administered another dose of the arousal drug. Yet when Amanda had taken hers, it had tasted weak, as if it had been watered down. As afternoon gave way to evening, the other slaves squirmed, moaned, and oozed in unrelenting sensual assault, yet Amanda felt only mild heat and dampness.

And now most of her excitement was of her own doing. Her pussy glistened and buzzed with anticipation from her own desires, but it left her with coherent thought.

Something Mandas had said to her had her both troubled and intrigued. Several strong memories had haunted her all day and now came together in her head as if trying to coalesce into a single thought: the strange task Roquan had set her upon concerning the Overlord records; the Inonni spiriting away groups of slaves, who returned with tales of sitting in a strange crystal chamber while asked detailed questions about their former Masters and Mistresses; the mysterious openings of Portals with no obvious focus in evidence; the astonishing speed at which the Inonni completed their conquest.

She tried to put her thoughts aside when the door opened and Gedric stepped into the room.

His demeanor was different than the day before. He carried himself with more natural confidence, and his eyes beheld desire and anticipation rather than doubt and scrutiny. He said not a word as he stepped forward and gestured.

Amanda slid off the seat and stood before him. She held his gaze for a moment, then lowered her eyes and slowly dropped to her knees. She caught a glimpse of his crotch, already bulging with his thickening manhood, and she felt a tingle in her already wet pussy. She spread her knees apart, placed her hands palm-up on her thighs, and waited.

She heard a slide of clothing and saw his pants and tights pool about his feet. He kicked them away, and a brush of fingertips against her chin lifted her gaze. Moments later, his manhood slid past her eager lips.

Even this had now become a joy again, and he reaped the benefit of her reawakened skills. So much so he had her ease off long enough so he could sit on the edge of his bed, his legs already trembling with the intensity of his pleasure.

She drew out his pleasure as long as she dared, until his gasps and grunts told her he was quite ready for relief. She took his seed into her mouth, closing her eyes as it filled her, savoring the taste and the aroma until she could tilt her head back and swallow. Still he throbbed weakly, a few more final drops dripping past her open lips as the tip of her tongue teased the last from his now flagging cock.

Gedric bid her to rise. He stood with her, and had her lie upon his bed. Amanda panted softly, her pussy slick and aching. Gedric's fingers played in her folds as she positioned herself, a husky sigh passing her lips. His fingers eased into her, and she parted her thighs wider in willing invitation. Then to her surprise, he crawled between her legs and lowered his head to her needy sex.

Amanda gasped as his tongue flicked about her womanhood, her hips writhing in mounting delight. There was nothing crude or purely obligatory about his ministrations. He knew how to please a woman, and he held nothing back.

She acted the perfect Oceanus slave for him because she desired it. She tightened her muscles and let the pleasure build to excruciating heights. It became a contest of will against technique, and she sensed he was delighting in the challenge. His tongue and fingers seemed to grow ever more adept, finding new ways to touch, massage, lick, or stroke which threatened to overcome her techniques.

In the end, Amanda let herself succumb, and her cries of orgasm sounded loud in the confines of the Fleet Captain's cabin. Still trembling from her powerful climax, her pussy still shuddering, he lay on his back and gathered her into his arms. She clung to him, still panting, and lay the side of her head against his chest, where his heartbeat was a comforting sound in her ear. She closed her eyes and uttered a small, contented sigh.

"You are most amazing, slave Amanda," his voice rumbled from his chest. "You bring me back to days I had thought I wanted to leave behind. You make me remember there were things which were quite good about my former life's path." He chuckled. "Ah, but if Lord Tarras could see me now, I could imagine what he might say."

Amanda's eyes suddenly blinked open. She knew that name. Roquan had mentioned it, and Duric before him.

"Master," said Amanda in a soft voice. "May I speak?"

"Certainly you may."

"Who is Lord Tarras?"

"Tarras K'riis," said Gedric. "Noble Lord and Governor -- or, I imagine by now, former Governor -- of the Carolas Province. And my mentor."

Amanda raised her head. "Mentor?"

Gedric nodded. "Yes, I was once intended to continue the Riis clan tradition, and Lord Tarras was grooming me to be a likely successor to him. I decided my fortunes lay elsewhere."

"But you knew him very well, Master?"

"Yes, indeed. Despite my having opted against a life of Nobility, I have great respect for the man." Gedric slowly smiled. "That is likely another reason I feel drawn to you. You are a connection back to him, as if I could reach out and touch him, even if only in my memories."

Amanda's eyes suddenly widened.

Gedric tilted his head. "Is something the matter?"

Amanda was not quite sure. There was a missing piece, but she thought she knew where it was. "Master, what is going to happen to the fleet?"

Gedric appeared nonplussed by the question, but after only a moment's pause, he answered it anyway. "I am told representatives from the Oceanus government are on their way to deal with the situation," he said in a somber voice.

Amanda almost had it. "Oceanus representatives" had to mean the Inonni, since they were running the show. "Master, do you know what they want to do with the fleet?"

"Alas, no. All we have gleaned is they may be interested in specific persons aboard the fleet."

"Such as who?"

Gedric allowed himself a tiny smile. "One school of thought says it may be me, but ..." Gedric trailed off and looked at Amanda's sudden shocked look with concern. "What is it?"

(through Gedric, I can reach the remaining Oceanus Nobility as if I were right there with them)

(a connection back to him, as if I could reach out and touch him)

(Gronnus seemed to get nearly all his slaves from other Overlords)

They attacked the Manors first, Amanda thought, her mind racing almost faster than her thoughts could keep up. THEN the Noble Lords. After they took the slaves ... their memories ... slave records ... Roquan's quarters burned down with no one in it ... no focus ... Portals without ...

And she had the last piece of the puzzle.

Amanda bolted upright so fast Gedric sat up as well. "Master, you're in terrible danger. And so is your former mentor Lord Tarras!"

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