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Red Passion

By: LevanaHyll



I usually don't post my stories in their entirety, but since I do not have this title up for sale (yet), I am gifting the readers of my work with this raw second draft of Red Passion, completely for your enjoyment.

Levana Hyll

****************

Chapter One

The twin suns poured the heat of their blue fire upon the city of Thalanamei, turning the buildings a blinding white. Beneath cloudless cerulean skies, citizens bustled about in their daily routines.

Red Passion stared at the shops and markets passed along the way to the coliseum, barely able to contain himself in his seat. The caramel skinned citizens wore flowing white robes with gold sandals strapped to their feet. He also noted both Mistress and male sported their ebony tresses in elaborate coifs, which defied gravity. Frowning, he gripped two handfuls of his crimson hair and pulled it straight up. It only poured from his fingers to spill down his back once more. How did they ever get it to stay up that way?

Red Passion pressed his nose closer to the glass and licked his lips with a smile. The food and wares set out under canopies on the crowded street echoed every color of the rainbow. His eyes widened in the next moment when he noticed the Mistresses of this land conversing with their males. None of the males had leashes so he couldn't distinguish pets from slaves.

Red Passion's fingers closed around the gold leash attached to his jeweled collar, feeling the comforting weight of the links. "Night Moon," he began, "do you suppose our beautiful Mistress Azana is from this land?"

Their Mistress' skin was deep mahogany, much darker than the citizens of Thalanamei. She liked to converse with Red Passion—of course, never in public. Mistresses from the southern regions of Utuduo never bestowed such honor upon lowly males, at least any he knew of.

He sighed in wonder when a female laughed with her young male escort, feeling longing flutter in his gut. How would it feel to have such attentions? He would surely swoon to the floor like an untried youth if Mistress Azana displayed such affection toward him in public.

Red Passion's face flamed in shame. Mistress Azana was good to him, sweet and loving. He shouldn't aspire for more. She more than spoiled him already.

He turned to look at his young companion.

Once again, the young pet fussed over his reflection in the dark glass of the transport enclosing them. Red Passion didn't understand Night Moon's lack of self-confidence. The boy was beautiful. His hair fell to his waist in a mass of black gloss that only served to heighten the azure of his eyes and paleness of his creamy skin.

"I-I'm getting a blemish!"

Red Passion heard the threat of tears in the whelp's voice. "Nonsense—you're fine."

Night Moon turned horrified eyes to him and pointed to his chin. "Right there, Red, it hurts there."

Already, the whelp hyperventilated with mounting distress. He'd work himself into frenzy if Red Passion didn't do something quick.

"Night Moon, I see nothing," he chastised. "Keep up your frantic whining and you're going to render yourself impotent for our showcase. Our beautiful Mistress will be shamed."

His eyes widened and he shook his head. "No—never! I would never shame her in such a manner." As if to prove himself, he dropped to his knees before Red Passion and divested himself of his robe. Head bowed with difference, Night Moon sat back on his haunches and lifted his arms in the traditional submissive position of a sex pet. Immediately the whelp's cock thickened and lengthened until it pressed fully erect against his muscled belly.

"You're a beautiful boy," Red sighed, caressing his cheek. "You're going to worry yourself into an old man before time."

"I'm not as beautiful as you," the boy sighed with a dejected pout.

Red Passion smiled at the silly boy. "Our mistress would not have acquired you if you weren't."

Night Moon turned his face into Red Passion's caress, his lip quivering as the first tear rolled down the smooth curve of his cheek. "She only allows you to couple with her. She barely touches me."

Red chuckled. "You're just a whelp."

Night Moon's eyes flashed in anger as he stood, bringing his erection up to the level of Red's face. Red Passion tried to suppress his laughter at the boy's show of male bravado. "My cock's just as big as yours. I'm fully capable of pleasuring her as well as you."

"And the day she decides to purge you of your virginity, I'm sure you will," Red replied in a soothing voice. "For now, it pleases her to see your ardor for her. Mistress wants to own your soul as well as your cock, Night Moon."

* * *

The golden sunshine poured through every window in Emily's house, the reflection making hardwood floors gleam. She sat on the third step of the stairs in the foyer, and pulled her jogging sneakers on, tying them with determination. Next to her, Tabitha, her miniature Collie, smiled, tongue hanging out as her tail beat a happy tune on the floor.

When done tying her sneakers, Emily hopped to her feet. Pride made her grin. She had survived the entire week without ruining her diet, and even accomplished the incredible feat of going to TGI-Friday's and not hoarding down a plate of her favorite nachos with cheese. She promised not to weigh herself until the end of the month, but the temptation to see if she'd lost any weight was overwhelming. Had her weeklong martyrdom of diet and exercise whittled away any of the twenty extra pounds she had padding her goddess-like figure?

She stepped in front of the mirror in the foyer and turned from side to side, hands on hips.

"I shall bring out the hidden goddess," she said with a nod.

The recent self-help book her best friend Joyce had given her required she always view herself in a positive way, even if she thought she looked more like a manatee than a goddess. Emily bit her lip, her eyes looking at her waist. Taking a deep breath, she sucked in her belly and held it. Think good things. I am a goddess not a manatee.

The goddess thing had also come from Joyce, who claimed that somewhere in the universe women were goddesses and men little more than servants and pleasure toys.

Emily let out her breath in a frustrated rush, her smile waning. God, this was so hard. She'd once had a dainty figure, loved to paint, swim, play tennis, and had even been a cheerleader in high school, but that girl didn't exist anymore. Now she saw a plump woman with sad brown eyes and long, blond, stringy hair who thought she could erase the past five years of horror by losing a couple of pounds and reading self-help books.

"Where did you go, Emily?" she whispered to herself. "What happened to that girl who wanted to be a famous painter, and saw nothing but beauty around her?"

She touched a faint scar on her right cheek, knowing it was nothing compared to the ones on her soul. Would she ever stop looking behind her shoulder, waking up terrified, sobs choking her?

Tabitha's warm tongue on her hand brought her back to the present. 

The doorbell chimed, announcing the arrival of her jogging buddy. Tabitha barked in excitement, pirouetting before the front door.

"Easy, girl. Don't wear yourself out before the run. Besides, it's just Rio. He's one of us."

She threw open the door smiling at her best friend. Six feet of raw sinew and legs, Rio's stylishly tousled blond hair fell into sapphire eyes. His lush lips pulled back revealing a dimple-bracketed flash of teeth over a square chin. Totally hot... unfortunately, for her and female kind, he was also gay.

Today he wore a dark purple jogging set that had the word Juicy in silver glitter splayed across his cute ass. She would be happy if her own butt were at least half as firm and tight as his.

"So, are we ready to rip today?" His smile stretched from ear to ear, wispy puffs of mist curling into the chilly morning air. Rio leaned forward and gave her a loud kiss on her cheek.

"Rippin' ready, Blondie." She gave him a playful swat to his stomach, and then turned to her dog. "How about you, Tab?" Tabitha bounced around on her paws, her eyes bright with excitement when Emily baby-talked to her. "Go get your collar, girl,"

Tabitha's nails clicked on the hardwood floors as she scrambled away, doggie tags jingling. She disappeared into the kitchen for a few seconds then ran back with her red collar in her grinning jaws. Emily laughed. The collie's tail looked like a blur, and she couldn't sit still, making it almost impossible to secure the collar around her furry neck. Her whole body wagged along with her frantic tail, her golden eyes gleaming with barely suppressed delight.

"Silly girl," Emily chuckled, straightening. "Alright, let's go."

The autumn leaves swirled around the motley trio, cushioning their steps in a carpet of crimson and gold. Rio's nose turned red from the chill in the air. She could only guess that hers was just as bad, and running to boot. They headed down the wide driveway that lead out of her property to the road. There weren't too many houses on this road, just lots of tall trees, pines, and mountain views. Most of the deep green had given way to the tones of autumn, painting the world around them in vibrant fiery tones.

It was unusually nippy for late October. Soon, snow would blanket Rochester in the crisp white embrace of winter, turning the picturesque pond at the back of her house to ice. She smiled, remembering the snowball wars with the other kids from around the neighborhood, the silly snowmen her sister, Emma, and she would make in the front yard, and the smell of her dad's pipe and mom's blueberry pancakes Sunday mornings.

Her heart tightened, feeling joy at having come back to her childhood home. Even though her parents had passed away four years ago in an accident, she was grateful she had friends like Rio and Joyce in her life, as well as her sister, Emma.

* * *

Red Passion bowed his head as the slaves placed a wreath of flowers upon him. Once again, he was crowned winner in the interplanetary competition of Most Beautiful Pet. He looked at Night Moon, who'd won the rounds for Most Beautiful Whelp. Mistress Azana had ordered her slaves to place colorful ribbons in Night Moon's black hair. Next sun orbit, Night Moon would be old enough to compete at Red's level. Perhaps this would be Red Passion's last year as most beautiful pet.

He smiled at Night Moon, who grinneded back. Red knew their mistress would initiate the whelp into manhood that very night. She'd confided the secret to Red during their morning coupling. Red's smile grew wider. He couldn't wait to see the look on Night Moon's face when he buried his young cock into the Mistress. The whelp would probably spill after a few thrusts. Mistress Azana wouldn't beat him, though. She was not like her older sister, Mistress Betana, who beat Red Passion his first time for spilling too soon. He'd only been fifteen sun orbits, much younger than Night Moon.

Mistress Betana had whipped him, had her other pets sexually abuse him, and then shaved his red locks afterwards, leaving him in the courtyard without food or water for five sun cycles. Mistress Azana found Red Passion there, more dead than alive, and made her slaves bring him to her quarters. Since Mistress Betana had stripped him of his collar, Mistress Azana claimed him for herself.

The young mistresses' mother almost ordered him euthanized when she saw how gaunt he'd become. The twin suns had turned his creamy skin into a mass of boils and peeling, sun burnt flesh. He'd wanted to die too, from shame and humiliation, but Mistress Azana begged her mother to allow her to keep him as an experiment to see if she could restore his beauty—an experiment she managed to accomplish with her gentle hands and patience.

A commotion within the audience drew his attention. Fear gripped his insides, almost making him fall to his knees. He watched his former Mistress arguing with Mistress Azana, her long-nailed hands gesturing with jerking motions. Her deep red gown clashed with the soft blue of Mistress Azana's simple sheath. While Mistress Betana's voice boomed angrily, Red Passion could barely make out his Mistress Azana's dulcet tones.

He longed to listen, but the slaves were already escorting the pets away from the arena. His worry increased when he wasn't taken to the quarters of his Mistress' other pets. He found himself in an empty room, alone. No one came to bathe him or give him food and refreshment, not that he thought himself capable of eating at the moment. His stomach knotted in anguish.

Taking a deep breath, admonishing himself, he turned to gaze at his refection in the mirror that covered the far wall of the room. "Everything will be fine, Red Passion."

However, he still saw fear in his bright green eyes and the way his once rosy lips paled—a sure sign of his distress. He combed his blood-red hair forward, letting it flow over his shoulders the way his mistress liked. She'd let his hair grow until it reached his ass. The special oils and cleansers the slaves scrubbed his head with sped the process of growth, resulting in the glowing locks he proudly sported now, seven years after they'd been shaved off by his former Mistress. 

The door behind him opened and he knew a moment of relief when Nolon and Ozno, his Mistress Azana's slaves, walked in. He almost leapt in joy into their arms, until he saw they were followed by Mistress Betana's prime pet, Kiss Of Pain.

Red Passion tamped down his urge to break into tears.

A silver, spiked collar adorned Kiss Of Pain's neck, and trails of blue-black curls flowed over his shoulders and chest. Kiss folded his arms, muscles bulging over chiseled pectorals, the slit of his pupils growing narrower in his amber eyes as they locked on Red Passion. He'd come in second place after Red Passion. From the glower he wore, Red knew it was a position he did not appreciate.

The slaves came up to Red silently, none looking directly into his eyes. Ozno wiped Red down with a cloth as Nolon watched.

"What happened?" Red Passion searched the slaves' solemn faces. "Mistress resolved the issue at hand, right?"

Kiss laughed with a twisted sneer, drawing Red's wide eyes to his snake-like fangs.

Ozno began to cry, throwing his arms around Red. "I'm sorry, Red Passion. Truly I am."

Nolon eased him away, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. Red Passion gasped, staring in bewilderment when Nolon began to remove Red's jeweled cock ring and collar. "It'll be alright, Red. You're the perfect pet."

Red Passion's fear hit ten-fold as the familiar warmth of the collar left his neck. Ozno and Nolon kissed his cheeks and hurried out of the room, leaving him with Kiss.

"How pathetically touching," Kiss said, his voice laced with contempt. His upper lip curled, baring his fangs. "If you think for one moment I'm going to allow you to replace me as prime pet, you're horribly wrong."

Red Passion covered his genitals, suddenly feeling very exposed.

Two more of Mistress Betana's pets came into the room. Red remembered Love Bite and Black Thorn, the same pleasure pets who'd held him spread-eagled after Mistress Betana whipped him, so Kiss Of Pain could sodomize him.

Red Passion shook his head, taking a step back. "She'll beat you if you ruin me." Even as the words left his trembling lips, he knew they were foolish, a childish attempt to instill fear into one incapable of feeling it.

"But she sent us to beat you, Red Passion." Kiss stepped up to him and caressed his face, even as Red's tears began to drop. "Mistress Betana would never dream of allowing your soiled cock to enter her now... after it's been in every orifice of her own sister."

Chapter Two

Emily stripped off sweat soaked clothes and stepped into her shower. The hot spray felt good against her clammy skin. With a sigh, she grabbed a bar of soap and began to lather herself. She let her hands trail up from her waist and stopped at her ribs, with a thoughtful frown. They felt more noticeable, less padding over bone. With a smile, she let her slick hands slide up to cup her breasts—the only part of her body she was actually proud of. Taut round flesh filled her hands to overflowing, her thumbs running over the erect tips of her rose kissed nipples. She bit her lip, feeling the pleasure echo between her legs. Of course, as she lost weight, they'd most likely begin to sag.

Emily looked down at her breasts with a shrug. Nothing was perfect.

A naughty smile tugged at the corners of her lips—nothing, except the painting of the beautiful man she was working on up in the attic. She'd named him Red Passion, because she'd used that very color to create ribbons of long hair trailing down his perfect torso. Naturally, men didn't wear their hair that long anymore, nor sported that particular color—unless they were Goths and into vampirism. She'd used the color on a whim wanting her fantasy man to look exactly like... a fantasy—someone that couldn't possibly exist, someone who wouldn't hurt her.

Emily, leaned against the cool tiles if the shower, imagining Red Passion sweet and sensual. Closing her eyes, she pictured him there in the shower with her. She could almost feel his long fingers running over her wet flesh, his tongue lapping the water trailing down her curves. She pictured him cupping her breasts in reverence, before fusing his mouth to a nipple and sucking like a famished babe.

Her moan startled her. She felt her face flush with embarrassment as she slapped her hand over her mouth. Rio was just on the other side of that wall in the guest bathroom. What if he heard her?

She finished showering and threw on clean sweats. Down in the kitchen, she was surprised to find Rio already whipping up a healthy lunch for both of them. Emily smiled, slipping onto one of her wicker stools at the black granite counter, and watched Rio sauté chicken in her skillet. His blond hair was still damp from his shower, and he let his blue plaid shirt hang open, showing rippling muscles perfectly delineated under his snug t-shirt. She knew he was gay, yet her mouth still watered. Emily was a sucker for good masculine physique, and hadn't been with a man since...

She closed her eyes, refusing to allow herself to keep dwelling on her failed marriage. That was done and over with. Must look forward now. No looking back, just forward. Think good things.

She opened her eyes again, took a deep breath, and smiled, loving the way the early afternoon sun poured in through the windows that lined the back of her kitchen. Framed by the hunter-green Priscilla curtains, nothing but red and gold covered trees swayed in the gentle breeze, loose leaves fluttering like butterflies. Her gaze fell once again on Rio, who was humming to himself and swaying side to side, immersed in the tune in his head.

Emily's grin widened, warmth tugging her heart at how sweet he was.

"Well it's Saturday night." Rio suddenly grinned over his shoulder, switching the jut of his lean hips the other way. He looked almost flirtatious. "What's on the agenda of social activities?"

Her heart fell, knowing what was coming. He and Joyce had been trying to get her to go out for the past month.

"Oh, I don't know, Rio." She sighed and looked down at her hands clasped on the counter. "I was thinking of doing movie night again at home," she shrugged, looking at him from beneath her lashes, "like last week."

Rio rolled his big blue eyes with a shake of his head. "Baby-girl, at this rate, I'll never get laid before the end of the year. Come-on, let's hit the city this weekend. We can stay in my uncle's condo in Manhattan. He's off in Greece somewhere with his current squeeze and told me I was welcome to use the condo whenever I liked."

"I'm really not in the mood for partying." She lied. She was just terrified of running into her soon-to-be ex-husband, Mark Gianello.


Red Passion



Rio had turned to deposit the now empty skillet into the sink, leaving steaming plates of chicken and steamed vegetables on the counter before her. At her words, he turned to regard her with a steady gaze, letting her know he'd read right through her phony words. "You can't hide forever, Em. He can't hurt you anymore. If you keep hiding, you're still giving him that power over you."

Emily turned away from his searching stare. "I know. I'm just not ready to face him yet." She couldn't help the shiver that coursed through her, and closed her eyes so Rio wouldn't see the sheer terror she felt at the possibility of running into Mark.

She heard him sigh. The next thing Emily knew, he was slipping his ropey arms around her from behind, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. "Alright, we'll stay home, but I get to pick the flicks this time," his deep voice murmured behind her.

She smiled, her heart melting just a little and clasped his arms around herself tighter. "You don't like Joyce's taste in movies?"

Rio scoffed. "If it isn't one of her B-D-S-M flicks where some poor unsuspecting dude gets screwed over by some gargantuan female, it's her all time favorite. Kill Bill, parts one and two."

Emily laughed.

* * *

Red Passion lay broken and bleeding on the floor. He floated in and out of consciousness, listening to the angry voices of women over him. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing could save him now. After Kiss and the other pets had beaten him within an inch of his life, he'd felt the cold blade of a knife slice open his face from temple to chin. He was useless now as a pet. The only thing he was good for was a swift and merciful death.

What would death feel like? He wondered about it the time he lay beneath the punishing rays of the suns seven years ago, gasping for breath through a parched throat. He wondered about it now.

He felt himself being turned over, the pain making him whimper. It was such a weak sound. Pathetic. Something soft was wrapped around his entire body and he was lifted. The jarring movements made him black out, but he awakened later surrounded by silence and darkness.

Everything hurt so much, but it would be over soon. Ruined pets were tossed into the sea. He imagined the creatures living beneath the surface of the waters would consume what was left of him. Would it hurt—being eaten? He never pondered this before. Could pain be any more intense than it was now? It hurt to breathe. The silence was deafening, nothing but his breathing and beating heart sounded in his ears. He considered lifting his head to look around, but the very thought of the pain that would spur made him want to vomit. That would only bring about more pain, unless he blacked out first.

Time lost meaning as he awaited the watery grave that never came. Perhaps they'd discarded his body elsewhere, but where? Darkness and silence surround him, so they hadn't abandoned him in the desert. He felt hungry... and thirsty. Mayhap he was already inside a trash incinerator, but whatever he was lying upon felt soft.

Had his Mistress Azana entombed him? Some mistresses encased their most prized pets in tombs, showcasing the memory of the pet for eternity. How kind of her, especially after seeing how hideous he'd become after Kiss had sliced open his face. She was a good woman. He felt he didn't deserve such an honor. Mistress Azana spoiled him more than she did her other pets. He wondered if she placed the tomb in her garden where she'd enjoyed their moments of pleasant fucking. No other pet could make the Mistress come as hard as he did. It was why he'd become her prime pet, and eventually the reason why Betana had grown to envy Mistress Azana. He wasn't just another pretty face. At least he hadn't been. Now he would become food for maggots. How long would it take? Was she outside of his tomb right now?

He was being silly and conceited. Mistress had better things to do than waste her time mourning a pet. He should be grateful she'd entombed him instead of feeding him to the sea-creatures or tossing him into the city incinerator as they did other males.

Red Passion drifted in and out of consciousness, awaiting death. He no longer felt the burn of hunger, but his tongue felt heavy and his eyes dry behind blood-swelled lids. Feeling brave, he moved his fingers, slowly pulling the sheet covering him. Cool air caressed his face. He tried opening his eyes, but only managed to open one—barely. The other was swollen shut. He didn't know what he expected to see, but stars certainly would not have been one of his guesses. He was in mistress Azana's space pod—out in space.

* * *

Joyce had grown tired of the celery sticks and carrots, and headed out to town for "some real goodies" as she drawled on the way out the door. Meanwhile, Emily watched Rio put on a sci-fi flick, and then make himself comfortable by lying on her overstuffed couch. Once he had his head comfortably set on her lap, he hit the play button.

She absentmindedly stroked his hair while they both watched the movie.

Like the majority of cheesy movies Rio rented, this one was about a hot male alien who'd crash-landed on Earth. A dumb, busty blond finds him and gives him refuge in her home. She cares for his wounds and feeds him, and before long they're falling in love while running from authorities trying to get their hands on the sexy alien.

She didn't know exactly when she drifted off, but she knew the moment she saw the space pod falling into her pond that Red Passion would be inside it. Emily ran to the pod and there he was, kneeling in the muddy bank, his head bowed in deference with his crimson tresses flowing over his gorgeous body. He was naked and aroused—for her.

"My Mistress," he sighed.

She knelt before him, sinking her fingers into his mane. His hair was so silky, soft. She wanted to lift his face, to glimpse the beauty she suspected the red locks hid. Emily licked her lips, wanting desperately to kiss his shyness away. "You don't have to call me mistress."

A bark of laughter had her snapping her eyes open. Rio's shocked blue eyes were mere inches from hers because she had her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him in for a kiss that he evidently didn't want, meanwhile, Joyce's laughter bounced off the walls.

"Oh-my-God, Rio," she gushed releasing him as Joyce continued to hoot. "I'm so sorry."

Joyce wiped at the corners of her chocolate eyes. "Honey, you definitely need to get laid if you're trying to seduce little-ole' Rio in your sleep."

Rio rolled his eyes at Joyce. "I tried to convince her to go into the city, but..."

The lights in the house flickered off.

Emily blinked in the sudden gloom, confused.

"Emily, hon, did you not pay your light bill?" Joyce drawled somewhere in the dark.

Emily eyes widened when she saw a fiery streak through the windows that lined the back of the kitchen, growing bigger every second. "W-what is tha..."

White light, so intense it stunned Emily into silence, blinded her. Eyes hurting, she turned her face away, instinctively shielding herself with her arms, all the while aware of a droning sound coming from outside. The second the light died away, the power came back on in the house.

"What the hell was that?" Emily finally finished saying.

She rushed to the back door and flipped on all the outdoor lights. The ones surrounding the pond flickered but remained unlit.

"Rio, grab the flashlights," she shouted, trying to squint into the darkness surrounding the pond fifty feet away. The wind made the trees rustle and sway, making goose bumps raise on her arms, but she couldn't make anything out.

"You're not thinking of going out there, are you?" Joyce said, her voice shrill with panic.

Emily looked over her shoulder to see Joyce's eyes wide with fright. She stood a few paces behind Emily, while Rio made a racket trying to grab the biggest and heaviest copper frying pan from the rack above Emily's stove. Once he'd found his perfect weapon, he hefted it over his brawny shoulder like a baseball bat, eyes round with fear.

Emily shook her head and turned to squint into the darkness around the pond. Though there wasn't much light, she could make out the form of something big and egg-shaped at the edge of her pond. Upstairs, Tabitha barked and howled frantically. "There's something out there."

"My point exactly, woman. Let's stay in here and call the police instead," Joyce insisted.

"And tell them what?" Emily put her hands on her hips with a frown, casting them a glance over her shoulder. "A flying saucer just landed in my back yard? Besides, we have Rio. He's strong."

Rio's grin looked more like a grimace, but he nodded, tightening his grip on the frying pan.

Joyce snorted, one dark brow shooting up.

Rio frowned. "Hey, I resent that snort," he called out from the other side of the kitchen, one hand on his hip as he pointed the frying pan at Joyce.

"Stop fighting, you two," Emily scolded. Had the situation not been so scary, she would have laughed.

Emily opened the door wider. She could hear Tabitha still barking up in her room. She'd locked the collie away because Joyce hated when she jumped up on her. Now she wished she'd thought of setting her free first. If there was anything out there, Tab would find it fast... but maybe that wasn't such a good idea. Her sweet Collie could get hurt.

Taking a deep breath, Emily stepped out the back door onto the wooden deck. She heard Rio and Joyce's feet scampering across the kitchen floor until their body heat pressed against her back. They walked like one unit until they reached the steps leading down into her yard.

Rio's hand wrapped around her bicep, making her pause. She patted it reassuringly, and kept moving, her eyes narrowing on the dark shape over the pond.

Just as they stepped off the wooden deck, the lights flickered again, and then turned off. Emily's heart slammed against her ribs as all three of them gasped. There was a loud whirring noise, and the blinding light stabbed shards of pain into her eyes.

Joyce cursed tightly and Rio gave a squeak of alarm. Emily fell under the weight of Rio's body when he tackled both her and Joyce to the ground shouting "duck!".

They covered their heads when a gust of hot wind stirred up the leaves around them. The whirring turned into a droning along with a high-pitched squeal. The scent of moist earth, water, and something else Emily couldn't quite place assaulted her nose.

She squinted from under the muscled arm trying to cover her head. A small, glowing orb floated over her pond for a second, then zipped straight up into the sky, disappearing amongst the stars.

Holy shit! Emily gaped, unable to believe what she'd just seen.

"Run-run, before they come back," Rio cried out.

She had no choice in the matter as he practically lifted both women and hightailed into the safety of the house.

Tabitha was still barking and howling. Joyce ran for the phone with Rio behind her.

They were both shouting into the receiver so she doubted that whoever had answered the call would understand them.

Emily felt uneasy, her head snapping around to stare toward the pond.

My Mistress.

She didn't understand why she felt the overwhelming urge to cry, her fingers gripped the edge of the counter to keep from running back out to the pond. Something in her heart stirred; desperation, anguish...?

Choking back a sob, she ran up the stairs. Her feet pounded on the beige runner covering the steps until she reached the second floor. She swept passed the various framed family photos lining the antique, whitewashed walls of the hallway, pushing her way into the linen closet at the end of the corridor. Emily flipped on the switch, the scent of fresh, clean linen making her nostrils flare. Wrapping her fingers around the cord that dropped from the ceiling, she lowered the ladder that lead to her sanctuary. 

She scrambled up the wooden ladder, pulling the cord to the bare bulb that hung from the ceiling in the attic. There he was, right where she'd left him... unfinished. The easel was propped by the small round window at the far end of the attic, overlooking the yard. Several times she'd tried to paint his face, but she couldn't seem to get the eyes right. Emily tried to remember what they looked like from her dream, but the memory was elusive. Red Passion. His body laid bare for her pleasure, faceless.

She reached out to touch the painting, but Tabitha howled in a way she never had before, breaking Emily out of her trance. The collie wouldn't keep up the ruckus unless...

Her heart accelerated. She turned and climbed back down the ladder, dashed down the steps, and this time kept going until her fuzzy slippers sloshed in the edges of the pond.

The moon was just a tiny sliver in the sky, making the darkness absolute. She panted, unable to see a thing. In the direction of the house, she could hear Joyce calling out to her and a pair of heavy feet pounding across dried leaves coming in her direction. Rio was going to play at being a hero again—bless his gay heart.

The glow from Rio's flashlight hurt her eyes.

"Baby-girl, don't move. Stay right there," she heard him shout from across the yeard.

But she did, and found herself tripping over something... big. Emily fell, face first, into the icy waters of the pond. She felt the distinct sensation of cold, wet flesh against her legs and scrambled away. Immediately, her teeth began to chatter. Rio's light flashed across the muddy bank searching for her. It swept over the body of the naked man she'd just tripped over. Her eyes widened when she saw his hair.

"Oh my God! It can't be," she gasped.

"Em, stay away from it."

She paid Rio no mind, her hand reaching out to feel for a pulse. For a moment, she held her breath, not being able to feel anything, but then there it was... very faint and weak. He was alive, but barely.

"Call 911, he's dying," she shouted out.

Rio finally reached her, panting. "Joyce is already calling."

The man's flesh felt icy cold, and his pale skin had a bluish hue to it. "Rio, get a blanket."

Rio snorted. "I am not leaving you here alone with this..." his free hand waved over the prone body, "person." He flicked the light around the rest of the yard, his eyes narrowing. "Hell, there could be more around."

She began pushing aside the long tangles of hair. He was lying face down in the mud, half in, half out of the water. "Shine the light on him."

"How do you know it's a him?"

The light revealed a sinewy body covered in welts, bruises, and blood. Deep red hair spilled down a V-shaped back, tapering down to a lean waist and narrow hips. The man's buttocks curved enticingly to strong well-shaped thighs and calves. He was definitely male, beautifully so. The murky water of the pond hid his feet. He had to be so cold. Emily bit her lip, splaying her hands over his shoulders.

"Never mind." Rio crouched down. "Is he alive?" Even as he asked, he slipped his fingers into the curve between the man's neck and shoulder, feeling for his pulse.

"Just barely. It's too cold out here for him." She tried to move the tangles of impossibly red hair to see his face, but the shadows kept it obscured.

"A blanket isn't enough." Rio shined the light down the man's body again. "He doesn't look heavy at all. Maybe I can carry him inside."

Emily nibbled her lip, wondering who'd beaten him so savagely, and why. "He's just so bruised. He could have internal bleeding. Moving him around might do more harm than good."

"But by the time the paramedics get here he'll die from exposure."

Joyce was approaching, lighting the path with sweeping motions. She seemed to be speaking—Emily guessed she was using her cell phone.

"Oh God, Rio," Emily blurted, "I don't know what to do."

"He's probably like some musician. What do you think the aliens wanted him for?"

Emily's perplexed gaze snapped to Rio's face. "What?"

"Look at the color of his hair..." Rio nodded toward the stranger, and then one of his golden brows lifted, "unless he's an alien."

"Oh, Rio, stop," Emily scoffed.

Joyce finally reached them, carrying a blanket.

Emily hopped to her feet with a clap. "Joyce, you're an angel!"

"The paramedics will be here in a few minutes. Who the hell's that?" Joyce frowned, planting her fists on her ample hips.

"We don't know. Rio, grab the other side of this blanket."

"What are you going to do?" Rio looked skeptical. I" don't think he's generating enough body heat for the blanket to work at this point."

"We're going to put the blanket down, roll him onto it and carry him between all of us into the house," Emily explained.

"Are you crazy? That man could be an escaped convict," Joyce protested.

"Or an alien," Rio added.

"Oh, come-on. If we leave him here he'll die from exposure to the cold." Emily stomped her foot. "If you don't help me I'll drag him in myself. Move out of the way."

"All-right-all-right. Don't get your panties in a twist," Rio huffed, reaching for the blanket she was shaking.

They unfolded the blue blanket and placed it beside the unconscious man. Rio, along with Emily, rolled him onto it. Mud and leaves clung to his pale battered body.

Joyce shook her head, making a disapproving sound. "Uh... shouldn't he be in the middle so he won't fall off the edge, folks?"

"Look," Rio sighed, "I'll just grab him under his arms and pull him into the middle of the blanket."

"C-careful, Rio. Don't hurt him."

Emily's heart accelerated when Rio lifted the man under his arms and pulled him over to the center of the blanket. "Hurry, let's get him inside now," she said in a rush.

Emily didn't know if it was from the adrenaline coursing through them, but they lifted him as though he weighed nothing and made it to the house faster than she ever thought possible.

"By the fireplace. Careful. Joyce, get me some towels and a bowl of warm water. Rio, get Emma on the phone."

Emily used her hands to wipe away the muck and dirt from his face. His eyes were swollen shut, black and blue bruises almost making the face seem inhuman, that's when she noticed the gash. It ran from his upper left temple, near the outer corner of his eye to his jaw. Dried blood and mud caked the deep gash. "Good God. Who could have done this to you?"

"Em... your sister." Rio held out the phone to her.

Emily grasped the phone in relief. "Emma! Oh, thank god!" Her knees began to shake. Rio came up behind her and helped her sit on the big tan lounger by the fireplace.

"Emily? What's going on? What happened?" Her sister's voice sounded clipped and controlled, ever the doctor.

"I need for you to get here as fast as you can, sis."

"Are you hurt?"

"No. It's a... man. He looks like he's been beaten and his face has a nasty cut."

"Is he bleeding?"

"No. The blood looks like its clotted, but he's unconscious. His pulse is very weak and his skin is almost blue." It suddenly occurred to Emily that if he really was an alien, that could very well be his natural color.

"Get him warmed up," Emma instructed, "but no rubbing or moving him around. Keep monitoring his breathing and pulse. I'll be there in five."

Joyce set the towels and water on the floor.

Emily turned the phone off and left it on the ottoman. "Cover his head, neck and..." Her eyes drifted down to his groin.

Joyce followed suit and gasped. "Wow! Can you imagine that when it's..."

"Joyce, really. He's half dead."

"Ain't it a shame." She clicked her tongue as she proceeded to wrap the towels around his head neck and groin.

Emily folded a quilt over him and looked at Rio. "Lie against him and warm him."

"Hey, why can't I do that?" Joyce protested.

"Because I'm bigger and hotter than you, girlfriend." Rio's smile was priceless.





Red Passion



Emily shoved more logs into the fire crackling in the hearth. By the time the paramedics and Emma arrived, the man's coloring was pinker.

Emma barked out orders like the doctor she was. The man had tubes and hoses inserted everywhere by the time they carried him out on a stretcher.

* * *

Red Passion kept hearing a hypnotic blip-blip sound. His entire body felt as though a herd of Gorgolan beasts had trampled over him. His face... his face felt afire with pain. Kiss had cut him—split the side of his face like ripe fruit. He groaned in misery. Why was he still alive? How could that be possible?

He felt a hand upon his arm and the voice of a Mistress near his ear. He froze. He opened his eyes but his vision was blurred. Again, the feminine voice. He felt a curl of shock surge through him when he felt her lips touch his forehead, her fingers touch his hair, then skim down his arm. This was confusing. Mistresses didn't touch males in this manner unless... she wanted to couple? He swallowed. Surely he was being tested. A potential Mistress wanted to test his virility. He would not fail her.

As his cock hardened the blipping sound increased in tempo. He would not fail. Red Passion could hold his erection for hours. Breeding. Perhaps they wanted a sample of his semen to breed more males with his beauty. Mistress Azana had once talked about this to him. He would have sons. He awaited the firm touch of a slave's hand upon his cock to milk him, but nothing happened.

He must have drifted off once more. When he reawakened, there was a male dressed in strange blue clothing wrapping something around his arm. The strange cloth began to squeeze his bicep then released with a hiss.

"Where am I?" Red asked the man. His voice surprised him. It was a dry raspy croak.

The man spoke to him, but he didn't understand the strange language. He placed a thin tube in his mouth for a few seconds then withdrew it and looked at the thing. What a strange practice.

A Mistress walked in. At least he thought it was female. She was small and frail looking.

Red panicked. He wasn't sure he had the strength to climb down off the bed he laid upon to prostrate himself before the female. Metal bars surrounded the bed. He closed his eyes in shame.

* * *

Emily stared in horror at the ravaged face before her. Her sister's words were still going round and round in her head. His blood type is unique, one of a kind. The color of his hair is natural.

Emily's eyes went to the mass of silk flowing over his shoulders. It was the same color of a deep red rose. No human had hair that color.

He only had one eye barely open, the other so puffed with blood, the lid didn't even twitch. The little bit of iris visible through the slit revealed a gold flecked green eye that almost looked like hammered metal. The color was both unusual and mesmerizing.

Other than those uncommon traits, he seemed human. His body was lean, delicately muscled; he had ten fingers and toes, two pale nipples on a nice chest, and a belly button. Emily had even checked his ears while he was unconscious, finding them well shaped and normal looking.

The male nurse nodded at her. "We were just about to freshen him up. Breakfast will be here in a few minutes."

Another nurse came in carrying towels.

Emily noted her stranger's mouth looking very parched, his bruised lips cracked. She turned to reach for the plastic pitcher she saw when she walked in, and proceeded to pour water into a disposable cup she found on the table next to it. The nurses walked out, leaving her alone with the stranger. Emily busied herself tearing the paper cover off a straw and tucking it into the cup.

"You look thirsty..." She turned with a smile, but frowned when she found the bed empty. Where did he go?

Her eyes followed the intravenous tube down the side of the bed and circled to the other side.

He was kneeling on the floor, head bowed, arms uplifted in offering.

Emily gasped, the cup of water falling from her fingers.

"Im Sheknia," he whispered before he swayed and collapsed to the floor unconscious again.

 Chapter Three

The stranger never raised his eyes to look at Emily. In fact, he seemed petrified of women. He kept trying to climb off the bed to kneel before any female that walked into the hospital room, something Joyce found extremely pleasing, much to Emily's annoyance. No one recognized the language he spoke whenever he did utter a word and kept calling all women Sheknia—whatever that meant.

Most of the swelling on his face had gone down, revealing a stunning countenance, and riveting eyes. They were hypnotic, the shimmering green surrounded by a dark ring that made them virtually glow. Emily had never seen eyes like that.

Red stared at everything around him with open curiosity, as though he'd never seen the inside of a hospital. The first time one of the staff members placed a tray of food before Red, he'd stared at it, sniffing, but didn't touch it. When Emily had taken it upon herself to try to get him to eat, he'd fainted, scaring her out of her mind.

After two weeks, Emma declared him fit enough to leave the hospital. Emily decided she had no choice but to care for him until they figured out where he was from and if he had any family.

She sent Rio to pick Red up at the hospital since whenever he saw her he'd drop to his knees and try to kiss her feet. She readied one of the guest rooms for Red's arrival and went about preparing a simple meal. Joyce came over early to help.

"So," Joyce began, "has anyone figured out where 'hot and handsome' is from?"

Emily shuddered, remembering the blinding light and weird noise the night they'd found him in the pond. Whatever had landed in her back yard had done so in the water so as not to leave any mark of its presence behind. "Um, no. Rio is trying to get in touch with his uncle who's an interpreter for the UN. He knows over thirty different languages."

Joyce sighed, looking up at her as she finished putting the last plate on the kitchen table. "Maybe you should let the authorities take care of this, Em. We all saw what happened that night. No telling where that boy's from."

Emily looked out through the wide expanse of windows at the back of her big kitchen. Leaves drifted from the trees, floating lazily in the breeze. The pond was barely visible fifty feet away from the back door, but the images of the night they found Red Passion were vivid in her mind.

The image of his big frightened eyes also haunted her, making her feel protective of him.

"I don't think he's dangerous, Joyce."

"I'm sure he isn't. But whatever tried to kill him is."

Emily looked at Joyce. "He's terrified of women."

Joyce smirked. "Smart man."

"Joyce, I'm serious. What if... what if he was abused... by women?"

Joyce rolled her eyes. "You think some female whipped that gorgeous hunk of male flesh? I doubt it." She put her hands on her hips and pursed her mocha lips. "I'd be willing to bet my beautiful curves that Red got his delectable ass whooped by a mob of jealous men."

Tabitha began to bark at the front door. Emily felt butterflies in her stomach as she wiped her palms on her jeans. Looking around her house, she felt her heart swell with pride. Everything was spotless and welcoming. She had polished the hardwood floors to a high gloss and a fire crackled in the stone fireplace in her great room. She'd brought extra blankets and pillows and placed them in the recliner near the fireplace, in case he grew tired and needed to rest. Emma warned it would be a while before he regained his full strength.

"How do I look?" she asked Joyce as she smoothed down her hair. She'd left it loose around her shoulders.

Joyce's smiled, giving her a hug. "As beautiful as always, Em."

* * *

The pretty man with the golden hair talked merrily next to him. He'd arrived early and helped dress Red in strange clothing that wrapped around and between his legs. More layers of a knitted cloth encased his feet followed by heavy footwear. By the time the man, who had pointed to himself saying "Rio", finished layering clothing on Red, he felt as though he weighed twenty stones more. Of course, once they stepped out of the building they were in, Red felt grateful for the layers of clothing obviously meant to keep him warm. Had he not been sitting in a chair with wheels, he would have run back inside. Rio must have seen the panic in his eyes, because he hugged Red and led him to a strange transportational vehicle. The thing looked like it was made of white shiny metal and rested on four wheels. How archaic. On Utudou, the transports floated on a layer of air. The transport made a low humming noise and had a strange scent Red Passion found he disliked.

Rio helped Red into the transport, and then walked around to the other side to settle in next to Red.

A group of blue-garbed women and men that had tended him for the past sun cycles waved their hands as the transport moved away. When Red mimicked their gesture, they smiled and moved their hands faster smiling at him.

They traveled for a while, passing strange vegetation and buildings. Before long, they were turning onto a short roadway that ended in front of a pale yellow, two-story dwelling. Red gaped at his surroundings. Trees the color of gold, orange, and even crimson stretched out as far as the eye could see.

Rio came around to Red's side of the transport and opened the door. Again, the chilly wind made his eyes water and his nose run. Rio led him up wooden steps as the door opened.

Immediately, a small furry animal jumped up on Red, startling him out of his wits.

The harsh voice of a female had his eyes snapping up. The same beautiful blond that had visited him often stood within the dwelling... and she looked angry.

Red Passion dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor, trembling. Many hands gripped him, towing him within the shelter of the dwelling. The animal was licking his face eagerly when Red spotted its collar.

This was a pet?

He gaped at the furry creature in disbelief, touching his own neck. Red had no owner, but this furry creature obviously did. Perhaps he had to earn his collar. That's it! He'd be the perfect...

His hand flew to his face, shame making the cut throb. Red's fingers traced the gash. He was ruined. How could he keep forgetting? What cruel and unusual torture was being bestowed upon him? What do they want with me? All this strange treatment—it's so confusing.

They pulled him up. He kept his eyes downcast as they ushered him deeper into the dwelling. He heard the sound of fire and swallowed. Were they going to burn him? His legs began to shake. Someone pushed him into a comfortable chair. The cushions almost swallowed him. He felt a pillow placed at his back and the lovely blond female spread a blanket over his legs. Feeling bewildered, he dared look into her eyes.

He'd never seen a female with her coloring before, only males—though he did see an off-worlder once who had blue skin and six breasts.

The female before him was small, with lush curves. He felt captivated. Red was sure she came to the middle of his chest.

A beautiful blush spread across her features as she smiled shyly. Red Passion could not believe his eyes. She looked at him the way a young Mistress looks at a male she desires.

How could she desire him, with his ravaged face?

Perhaps, in this new land they had lower standards for pets. His former mistress, Azana, had seen to it that he be rescued.

Red's jaw dropped with the realization.

His vision blurred. Once again he bowed his head, not in deference, but because he didn't want the two Mistresses and the blond male to see his tears.

She was speaking to him. Her furry pet was by her side and she was scratching the creature behind its ear. He wondered if he would be the recipient of such attentions. She was still talking to him. Red gazed up at Rio. The male smiled at him. Was he the prime pet of one of these women? Rio began to speak and the woman with the dark skin spoke back at him. He wondered if he was permitted to speak also. In his land, it was forbidden to so much look at a Mistress in the eyes unless told to do so.

This was new territory for him. He would just have to test the waters slowly to see where his boundaries were.

Taking a deep breath, and garnered the courage to speak. "Are you my new mistress?" He looked up at the beautiful blond.

She looked at him in shock.

He overstepped his boundaries! He looked down once more, wondering what his punishment would be. They were all talking amongst themselves, most likely deciding what proper punishment to dole out to the surly... pet? Maybe he was a domestic slave now. Why would they put a slave in a throne-like chair, swaddled and pampered... like a highborn female?

The blond Mistress left his side with her beast following her every step. Perhaps he should watch the beast to learn his proper behavior.

She returned carrying a tray. It bore various objects of different colors and sizes. She picked a small orange cube and tossed it to the beast. The animal gulped whatever it was and sat looking at the Mistress expectantly. Food. She had brought a tray of food. His stomach threatened to rumble, but he clenched his muscles tight to keep the noise at bay.

The others picked things for themselves, including the blond man. He was definitely a prime pet of the highest order if they allowed him to stick his hands in their food and feed himself.

The blond beauty was speaking to him again. This was probably a test... and he didn't know what was expected of him. Well, the safest action was always inaction. He would wait and see if they gestured what they wanted of him.

She placed the tray on his lap and picked something else. She held it close to his lips. Red Passion's heart raced as he flinched back into the pillows. He couldn't help stare at her with his mouth ajar. A Mistress offering an uncollared male a tidbit? So many tests ran through his mind, of pets and slaves being tempted by forbidden things. He once knew of a slave that had been offered food from a tray, then had his hand chopped off for taking something. What would the punishment for daring to take food from the fingers of a Mistress be? His mind ran rampant with all the horrendous possibilities. They might break his teeth, or remove his lips... maybe cut out his tongue. He pondered what he would look like then, along with the hideous cut on his face. Red Passion shuddered. No. It was too horrible to ponder.

Rio knelt by his side. She put the bite of food she had offered Red into Rio's mouth. Where they gesturing to him that it was acceptable to take food from her hand? Again, she offered another bite. Red Passion felt his whole body trembling, but he closed his eyes, opened his lips, and let her push the bite past his teeth. Tentatively, he chewed. There was soft laughter. He looked into her face. It was glowing with intense satisfaction. The sight of her pleasure sent a thrill through him. He barely noticed that what she had given him was very tasty. He didn't care. She could have given him the beast's poop and he would have eaten it over and over just to see her face flush in pleasure. She offered him something else and once more, he let her put it into his mouth.

She was speaking, but she was smiling. That was a good sign.

The beast made a strange sound, drawing the Mistress' attention, and the blond male tossed it a morsel. The beast gulped it down without chewing it. Red noticed they seemed to enjoy the animal's eagerness with their attentions. He looked at Rio and caught sight of something shiny.

Red reached out and touched the slim, gold chain around Rio's neck, making the male freeze. Was this a type of collar? The animal had a collar and Rio did too.

"W-will I get a collar..." he looked at the blond Mistress, since that did not appear to be forbidden, "eventually?"

Red touched his neck and looked at Rio's chain, then back at the woman. Would she understand? Would she become angry at his presumptuousness?

She spoke with a smile, then laid her hand upon his ruined cheek. What a strange woman. She wasn't repulsed by him... and she was so... beautiful.

Her hand wiped across his forehead as he realized with shame he was beginning to perspire. Her fingers worked over the small round things that ran down the front of the thick garment he wore over several other layers of garments piled on him. Between the Mistress and Rio, they divested him of the thick garment and knitted cloth around his neck. With a smile, she combed his hair back with her fingers, obviously enjoying its texture. Red Passion knew his tresses were pleasant to touch, thick and luxurious.

All too soon, she rose and walked away from him, taking with her his happiness. The beast followed close behind. How he longed to be that wretched beast. What pleasure he would feel to be able to crawl on his hands and knees after her, wearing her collar of ownership., or better yet, to be imbedded deep within her, making her come over and over in ecstasy. Never before had he felt so powerful an urge to see a Mistress' body bared for him. He wondered what her pale breasts would look like in his hands. All he'd ever known before was the dark flesh of his former Mistresses.

* * *

His face was so pale, except for the mottled bruises that still hadn't faded completely. The look of abject fear in those green eyes made Emily feel sick. What did she get herself into? She wasn't over her own ordeal, how was she supposed to help someone else who seemed to have gone through a hell far worse than she had?

Looking for a way to escape those haunted green eyes, she rose from the ottoman and went into the kitchen to busy herself with the lunch she'd prepared. Breakfast was served very early at the hospital so he was probably hungry.

Food. That had been another dilemma for her. What did he eat? What if she fed him something that made him sick, or that he was allergic to? She prepared chicken cutlets on her grill and steamed some vegetables. Most people liked chicken. She hoped he did too.

She placed everything on the table and called everyone over. Once more, she looked over her preparations. Four square, white plates sat upon burnt-orange, woven place mats. Her simple silverware rested on cream-colored napkins. Emily poured water into each glass as Joyce walked in followed by Rio, who looked like he was practically dragging Red.

"You'd think he was expecting us to eat him," Rio murmured pulling out a chair for Red.

Red stared at him with wild eyes.

"Let me handle this." Joyce volunteered. She pointed at Red, "you," then at the chair, "sit," she commanded.

Red dropped into the chair, eyes downcast, body rigid. Joyce beamed in amazement.

"I don't want him to feel uncomfortable," Emily protested, glaring at Joyce. "Nor do I want to see him cowering."

"Well, it seems to me" Joyce informed matter-of-factly, "that this boy is used to and feels comfortable with orders."

"But that's cruel," Emily gasped, and then scowled. "As long as he's under my roof he won't be treated that way anymore."

"Then he'll probably continue to act confused and fearful all of the time," Joyce sighed.

"That's ridiculous." She looked to Rio to back her up.

Rio was studying Red intently. "I don't know, Em," he began, much to her shock. "You know how I hate to agree with Joyce, but if Red really was some sort of male slave..."

"Do you two hear yourselves?" she scoffed. "I mean—really! This is the twenty-first century, folks." She picked up the bowl of steamed vegetables and began serving Red some onto his plate. "I'll hear no more silly talk. Now let's eat before everything gets cold."

Silence ensued with nothing but the tinkle of utensils upon porcelain as they served themselves and began to eat. Red remained frozen, eyes downcast. Emily's fork stopped half way to her open mouth when she saw him casting furtive glances at Rio. They were right. He didn't dare make a move unless someone...gave him permission?




Red Passion



Rio picked up Red's fork and offered it to him. Red's hand trembled as he took the fork. He turned it over in his fingers, studying it briefly, and then looked at Rio.

"Go on," Rio gestured to the food on Red's plate. "Eat-up."

For a moment, Emily thought he wasn't going to do it, but after looking at her with wide frightened eyes, he carefully picked up his knife and began mimicking Rio, cutting the chicken. Slowly, he lowered the knife and pierced the morsel with his fork. Again, his hand trembled as he lifted it slowly to his mouth. Even slower, he bit into it and began to chew. By now, his face had absolutely no color and his shoulders seemed hunched over as if expecting a beating.

Emily was just about to lay her fork down to touch his arm reassuringly, when Joyce, oblivious to what was going on, pushed out of her chair.

"Need some butter on those veggies. Em, I hope you've got the real stuff and none of that nasty diet brand."

The sharp sound of the chair scraping on the floor made Red go rigid. He released the fork on the table, dropped his arms to his sides, and closed his eyes, cringing.

"Oh God," Emily hissed. She put her hand on his shoulder, but he only flinched. "Hey, it's okay."

"Maybe he's in pain," Joyce said, sitting back down with her butter. "Didn't your sister send him any med's?"

"He's got a whole bag full. Wait," Rio rose from his chair. "They're in my car. I'll go get them."

"Hey, "Emily coaxed, pulling his chin up. His eyes opened and the misery she saw there made her want to cry. "No one's going to hurt you. Please calm down. Aren't you hungry?"

She'd used her most gentle, reassuring tone, but his eyes just welled up, and, in a second, Red was down on his knees next to her chair, laying his head on her lap. One of his hands curled around her knee.

Shocked, all Emily could do was stroke his hair, and then he began to cry.

Bewildered, she looked up at Joyce, whose eyes were just as big as hers.

Joyce pursed her plump lips, peeking under the table. "Think maybe he just didn't like your chicken?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "Oh, Joyce. This is no time for cracking jokes. Why is he so upset?"

Rio came in and rushed to Emily, "What happened? Did he fall?"

"No." Emily watched Rio help Red up to take his seat. "He just got up all of a sudden and—" her eyes looked at Red's downcast face, his lower lip caught between his teeth as tears rolled down his flushed cheeks, "broke down in tears," she finished.

Rio poured a bunch of pill containers onto the table. They began to sort them out, counting six bottles.

"Hey, this one says whenever needed for anxiety," Joyce read aloud, before letting her gaze go over Red, one brow propped. "He's lookin' pretty anxious now."

"That'll probably make him sleepy," Rio murmured, taking the bottle of pills from her and studying the label.

Emily looked at Red's plate. He'd barely touched his food "Shouldn't he eat first?"

Joyce stood, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "I'll take care of that," she announced with a wave of her hand. Taking Rio's abandoned seat, She picked up Red's fork. "Open up, Big Boy—aahh." Red's eyes widened, but he obeyed. Joyce pushed a forkful of vegetables into his mouth. "That's a good boy. Eat your veggies just like your mama used to say."

Emily opened her mouth to protest, but then snapped it shut. Maybe it was best Joyce get some food into him. Rio gave Red the sedative with water, and then helped him up to the second floor guest room Emily had prepared for him.

Emily lost her appetite. What was she going to do with her stranger? They didn't know his real name, or where he was from and she was terrified of notifying the authorities about him. He'd be taken away, interrogated—and if he's really not from Earth, they'll probably kill him and do all kinds of experiments with his body... or vice-versa. She shuddered at the thought.

* * *

Red Passion fell into a deep sleep. He had no idea how long he was unconscious, but was surprised when he awakened. For a moment, before everything faded away, he thought he'd been poisoned and welcomed the dark oblivion that wrapped around him. Red thought that perhaps these strange people were trying to make his last moments pleasant, but once more, he opened his eyes.

Bewildered, he sat up in a large sumptuous bed. Someone had changed his garments. He lifted the thick blankets that covered him to peek. He wore a soft white tunic now with another garment similar to the one he wore earlier that wrapped around and between his legs. It seemed that all of the citizens of this new land favored this particular garment. The ones he wore now were the color of the sky.

The bed coverings were another point of interest for him. They were cream colored with tiny blue dots all over. He brought the blankets that covered him up to his nose and sniffed. It had a very peculiar, but pleasant scent. The bed had four dark columns rising out of each corner. He wondered if his new mistress would tie his limbs to these posts and have her way with him. Red Passion's cock sprung to life at the thought. He smiled, then frowned feeling the pain in his face.

His hand came up to the left side of his face. She's not going to want me with this. I'm ugly now.

Once again, he felt confused as to why they were continuing to keep him alive.

He continued to look around. There was a window to either side of the bed with golden sunlight pouring through. To his right was a small table with a strange fixture upon it. It looked like an urn but had a drum shaped cylinder around its top. When he touched it, it began to give off light. He touched it again and it turned itself off. How amusing. Just in front of the bed was a wide chest of drawers the same shade of brown as the columns of the bed. It had a round mirror hanging over it on the wall.

Red Passion gasped when he saw his face. Bruises mottled the area around his eyes. His lower lip was cracked at the corner, but the most hideous thing was the cut that snaked from his left temple, down the side of his cheek, to the edge of his jaw, almost to his chin. He knew bruises covered his body, but had no idea his face looked so ravaged.

The door opened and the pretty blond Mistress peered in. She gave a little jump when she saw him sitting up, but smiled and walked in. Her voice was gentle when she spoke while her furry beast trailed behind her, with its tongue lolling out.

She came to the edge of the bed and sat beside him. She said something else, patted her abdomen, and then remained looking expectantly at him.

Red let his gaze slide up her figure, liking the way the tunic clung to her lush curves. When he reached her face, she was blushing. "I don't understand what you're trying to tell me, Mistress," he told her in a low voice, still not accustomed to speaking to anyone but Mistress Azana without permission. Would this new Mistress spoil him too?

Again, she spoke and gestured to her mouth. Red shook his head slowly, feeling uneasy. "I don't understand. I'm sorry."

She rose, with a smile, making gestures with her hands and walked out of the room. The beast bounded out after her.

Red remained blinking at the open doorway, unsure of what to do. Was he supposed to just stay in the bed?

He crossed his ankles, and hugged his arms over his chest, looking around. There were paintings on the walls of mountains and clouds. A dark rectangular panel sat upon a table in the far left corner of the room, and farther left was another narrow table with a single chair that had tiny wheels at its base.

The blonde woman returned carrying a yellow object in her hand. It almost looked like a phallus.

Red clenched his butt cheeks wondering if she was going to play with him. He never did get used to having his ass fucked, but if that made her happy, he'd bend over for her and make the appropriate sounds of satisfaction. His Mistress' pleasure was his duty.

She sat upon the bed and proceeded to peel the skin-like covering off. What she uncovered reminded him of a young boy's cock. Okay, so that wouldn't be so hard to take up his hole. It looked smooth, and thin, but he hoped she'd let him wet it with his mouth before trying to push it into him.

The Mistress smiled, her fingers going to the tip of the toy. Red's eyes went round when she ripped off the tip. He almost slammed his hands protectively over his own cock as he stared at her. Punishments that involved hurting a man's cock were worse than death. Her smiled waned.

Red swallowed. "Please... not my cock. I'll do whatever you want."

She spoke; words spilled from her lips in a gentle tone. Lifting her fingers, she offered him the piece she'd broken off. Red thought he'd become ill as he opened his mouth obediently and allowed her to slip the torn tip inside. He brought his teeth down on the bite in his mouth. His tongue rolled the sweet morsel around, continuing to chew. With relief, he realized that it was some type of food and not some poor boy's cock.

She kept repeating something slowly, as if coaxing him to replicate the sound. He watched her lips carefully and mimicked her actions, then tried to pronounce the alien word.

Red pressed his lips together. "B..." he said, his brows furrowing, "ba..." She repeated the sound while he touched his tongue to his palate. "Baaa-nnna-nna."

She laughed, her blue eyes sparkling, and then she did something wondrous. Red mouth dropped open at the feel of her arms going around his waist, holding him tight against her. The Mistress hugged him.

Red Passion closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her warmth. He rested his hands lightly on her arms, feeling his joy soar at having pleased her. "Banana," he repeated in an awed whisper. She fed him banana, and now she showed him affection. His heart thumped against his ribs at the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest, and her soft scent filling his nostrils.

* * *

Now she knew how a mother felt the first time a child spoke his first word. She was so happy, she was close to tears. Red sighed, his hands on her arms. He felt good against her, his warmth, his scent, the feel of his body... God, his hair is so soft.

She let her hands run down its length until the distinct feel of the swell of his ass filled her palms.

"Sheknia," he breathed.

Emily's eyes blinked open. What was she doing? He was still convalescing—and here she was copping a feel.

She pulled away, her face flaming. Standing abruptly, she tucked a stray lock behind one ear, unable to meet his gaze. "Dinner's almost done. Maybe you'd like to shower before eating?"

Placing the uneaten half of the banana on the nightstand by the bed, she turned to rummage through the dresser by the door. Finding warm sleepwear for him, she gestured for him to come to her. 

Red slipped out from under the comforter and padded behind her as she led him into the adjoining guest bathroom. The mid-sized room was similar to hers, though a bit old fashioned with white tiles and a claw-foot tub. Only the vanity was relatively new. She'd found the antique dresser at a garage sale and had it refurbished. Her eyes traveled proudly over the pretty color scheme in this bathroom; shades of indigo, cream, camel, and hunter green.

"The faucets open up pretty much the same here as in the hospital. Right is cold, left hot, pull up this lever for the shower. You can use these towels and I'll just put your clothes here for when you finish." Emily placed the flannel drawstring pants and long-sleeved t-shirt on the vanity. "When you're done undressing..."

The words died on her tongue as she gaped.

Red was just stepping out of his pants, completely naked. Emily's eyes drank in his beauty. His sinews flowed and rippled underneath skin that looked as soft as rose petals. As she watched, stunned into silence, his cock became erect, lifting to his taut belly. There was no lust in his eyes, only adoration as he went down on his knees, his arms lifting up in offering. His voice was soft, a sighed plea. He bowed his head, ribbons of scarlet flowing over his shoulders to pool in his lap.

Emily's eyes bulged more. He was offering himself to her... again. Though he'd made no move to touch her, she was still terrified. Here she was, alone in her house with a perfect stranger—God, yes, perfect!

She bit her lip and turned the shower on for him. Hoping he'd get the hint, she raced from the bathroom.

* * *

Red closed his eyes in misery when he heard the door click shut. Opening his eyes, he stared at his erection. His new mistress clearly had no intention of using him as a pleasure slave. He would have to become accustomed to his new status and stop acting like one. Domestic slave. That was what he was now.

He rose, doing his best to avoid looking at his reflection.

She'd put out fresh clothing for him and the sound and scent of water beckoned. While in the other place, he'd been tended to and bathed. He looked at the cascade of water before stepping into it. Various bottles in an array of colors sat a metallic basket hanging over the edge of the tub.

In Mistress Azana's palace, domestic slaves bathed the pleasure slaves in large pools within the males' stable. Since he'd been her prime pet, he had his own private tub in her rooms, and she always bathed him herself, indulging in teasing him to fevered pitch.

Red pouted with a dejected sigh. Not only would he need to tend to his hygiene himself, but it seemed like he'd be relieving himself solo as well.

Red cleansed his body and hair, dried himself with the big soft cloth she'd left for him, and then pulled on the garments she provided.

He stared down at his body. Being so covered still felt alien to him. Before, all he'd ever worn were his collar and cock ring.

Using one of the combs on the vanity, he carefully removed the snarls from his long hair. Once finished he stepped out of the bathing room back into the room he had awakened in.

Now what? He had no idea what his new duties were. He'd never observed the other slaves in their daily chores. They maintained everything clean and organized without being seen. Perhaps when the mistress went to sleep...?

He frowned, looking around. What would he clean? Everything looked clean already.

The scent of food drew him. He padded down the stairs to the cooking galley he'd been in earlier. The Mistress was preparing a meal. He watched her, burning with curiosity, but afraid to move any farther than the doorway.

Why was she cooking? Where was Rio? Didn't she have any other slaves to prepare meals? The other dark-skinned Mistress was gone too. Perhaps Rio was the other Mistress' pet. Could this Mistress be too poor to own slaves or pets?

Red quelled the curl of excitement that pulled at his loins. That's why she kept him. It was certainly better to have a damaged pet than to not have one at all.

He touched his face, feeling the long gash along his cheek. He would do his best to make her forget his ugliness... at least he hoped he could. He was very talented in the art of sex. His cock began to fill, but the memory of her reaction to him in the bathing room had it flagging again. No. She wasn't attracted to him. Why would she be? Even he couldn't stand to look at his own face.

She turned and jumped with a start. For a moment, he felt fearful she would become angry, but her pretty lips curled with a smile before turning back to her task. She spoke, and then gestured for him to sit at the table.

Red obeyed, slipping down into the chair he occupied earlier. She placed a steaming plate of food before him, and then sat in the chair next to his.

As he nibbled on the food she'd given him, he watched her feed her furry beast. Smiling and talking to it with great affection. Jealousy left a bitter taste in his mouth. His gaze dropped to his plate with a sigh, fantasizing of sitting at her feet while she fed him bits of food. He would lick her fingers, then her thighs...

Red jolted out of the fantasy and stared at her wide-eyed. Stars above, he'd groaned! What would she think of him? 

"I'm sorry, mistress," he breathed, looking down at his plate, chagrined.

He heard her speak to him, but was too embarrassed to look back up at her. From the corner of his eye, he saw her nibble her lower lip. She returned to eating, casting him glances every so often.

 Chapter Four

He stared at her again. She looked at the TV, and tried to concentrate on the program, but after a few minutes, she realized it was impossible. Clearing her throat, Emily slanted a sideways glance at Red.

He sat on the floor, long legs tucked against his chest, arms wrapped around his knees. Even in the dark, she could see the vivid green of his eyes, so at odds with the deep red of his hair. In the darkness of the room, it looked burgundy. The corner of his lip kicked up, though the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Red reminded her of Tabitha when she'd first brought her home, staring at her with big puppy-dog eyes.

A wet nose nudged her hand, drawing her attention to said puppy-dog. Tabitha's tail thumped on the floor when Emily scratched behind her ears

Sound drew her attention back to Red. Her eyes went round as she watched him crawl slowly to her. The whole time he watched her face, as if gauging her reaction. All she had to do was say "stop" and she knew he already understood enough to obey.

Emily opened her mouth... and said nothing.

Red Passion came right up to her, lowered his gaze, and put his head on her lap. She felt the warmth of his breath on her thighs, and then the heat of his hand when he curled it around one knee.

Emily stared in disbelief.

Tabitha wagged her tail and 'ruffed' at Emily, as if telling her to stroke him.

* * *

Red Passion held his breath, shocked by his own boldness at finally succumbing to the burning desire of feeling his Mistress' fingers touching him. Would she do it, or would she spurn him once more? Lip caught between his teeth, he waited, and shuddered when he finally felt her fingers sink into his unbound hair.

Bliss. He smiled, closing his eyes to savor the sensation of her hands gripping his heavy locks and stroking. She spoke to him, telling how soft his hair was. How he longed to turn his head and press a kiss to her knee, but knew that would be going a little too far too soon.

His loins burned with unleashed desire. He couldn't remember the last time he'd come. Sometimes he'd felt tempted to take matters into his own hands while he showered, but was afraid to do so. Mornings were especially torturous. He'd awaken, drenched in sweat and rubbing his aching cock against the mattress, unconsciously seeking relief. He knew domestic slaves sometimes fucked each other, no one cared about them, but since he was Mistress Emily's only slave, he'd have to suffer celibacy until she purchased herself another male. He grimaced, not sure he'd enjoy the attentions of another man.

The doorbell rang, making Emily jump, her fingers leaving his hair. Red Passion pouted when she sprang away to open the door. Laying his head on the couch, while Tabitha eagerly licked his face, he heard the familiar voices of Joyce and Rio.

* * *

"Now, this is pathetic," Rio announced walking into her living room. He put his hands on his hips, shaking his head while taking in the sight. Red sat with his head down on the edge of the couch, looking miserable while Tabitha did a good job of washing his face with her tongue. "Are you trying to bore him to death?"

"We were watching the Sci-fi channel," Emily defended.

"Mmmm," Joyce's lip curved up to one side, her eyes wide, "That boy looks really thrilled for sure."

Emily let out a long sigh, not wanting to admit the pleasure she'd been feeling moments before petting Red's gorgeous hair. She was so wet between her thighs, she was embarrassed.




Red Passion



"Let's go out, Em," Rio pleaded. "You can't stay cooped up in your house all the time. Besides, Red needs to stretch his legs a bit. He must be climbing the walls already."

"Unless he climbing somewhere else." Joyce's sly grin had Emily's face heating up several degrees.

"Joyce!"

Joyce rolled her eyes. "Get off it, Emily. You've been separated from Mark for over a year and that," her finger pointed at Red, "is too damn sexy to resist. You've been holed up in here for a month with the fine piece of male flesh. Girl, don't tell me you haven't at least kiss the daylights out of him yet?"

Emily stood red-faced before her two friends. She probably would have been doing just that—maybe more—if they hadn't interrupted. Naturally, Emily wasn't about to admit that to anyone. It was bad enough she was acknowledging it to herself. "I wouldn't take advantage of him like that. He's been through so much. Poor thing just needs a warm place and food while I figure out where he's from."

"Emily, he's a human being, not an animal," Joyce argued.

"Which is why we're all going out tonight," Rio added with a smile. His eyes turned to look at Red with undisguised lust. "Who knows, maybe Red will pick up a girlfriend... or boyfriend who might take him off Em's hands."

An uncomfortable emotion curled in the pit of Emily's stomach. If another so much as touched Red... She winced, realizing the feelings of barely repressed violence that surged through her veins. Red didn't belong to her or anyone. If he wanted to go off with someone else, he was free to do so. He was so beautiful. Why would he be interested in a fat, plain girl like her?

* * *

Rio dressed Red Passion in more strange clothing. A pair of black pants, what they called the garment that wrapped around the legs and groin, hugged his lower body. Thick socks cushioned his feet before Rio helped him step into black leather boots that layered over the snug black pants to his calves. Afterwards, the blond male pulled a black silk shirt onto him, which buttoned up the front. Rio gave him a long over coat to slip into, made of black leather. Red pulled his long hair out of the coat and shook it around his shoulders. He couldn't help notice the heated looks Rio cast him from beneath golden lashes and was almost tempted to throw the cute blond over the side of the bed and relieve himself... except he'd rather it be Emily he sank his frustrated cock into.

Downstairs, they all pulled on warm overcoats and stepped outside. It was the first time Red went out of the dwelling since he'd arrived. A curl of fear made him hesitate. Was Mistress Emily sending him away? He lagged behind the others, eyes wide. Rio opened the transport door for him and nodded for Red to go in.

Red tried not to hyperventilate, thinking she was going to cast him out for having dared to curl up at her feet like a presumptuous pet. How stupid of him. During the long drive, he had to bite his tongue to keep from begging her to give him another chance.

Music filled the space within the warm transport, along with their laughter and chatter. It was only when Emily reached out and gripped his fingers with a sweet smile directed his way did he begin to relax. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. Maybe she loved him enough to keep him now. He gazed at her with longing. He loved her so much, his heart ached.

They arrived at a metropolis, bigger than any he'd ever seen in his entire life. Buildings, lit from top to bottom, soared into the heavens, some so high, no matter how much he craned his neck, he couldn't see the top. The wide road was crammed with transports and he saw thousands of people walking along the sides before shops and places where both males and females sat at tables eating. The blinding glare of the multi-colored lights took his breath away.

They stopped at a building that had a canopied awning leading up to a wide entry with wide black double doors. A man opened the door for him with a smile. Since Rio, Joyce and Emily were stepping out of the transport he followed suit. Emily shocked him further by slipping her hand into his and following Joyce and Rio into the building.

The pounding beat he heard from outside only intensified when the doors opened to admit them within.

Heat, the scent of sweat, and flashing lights welcomed them. Red's eyes narrowed on the moving mass before him, a sea of writhing human bodies. Long columns of glass, steel, and mirrors circled the males and females dancing together. The ceiling was a web of steel and flashing lights. Red gasped when he looked down and only saw smoke billowing around his feet.

A tug on his arm brought his eyes back to Mistress Emily. The others were removing their overcoats and he followed suit. After leaving their garments with a person inside a small window a few paces from the doors, Emily led him forward into the moving mass of bodies.

"That's a dance floor, Red," Emily pointed out, talking into his ear because the music was so loud, "and over there is a bar. See the people sitting around it? They're having drinks. This how most of our kind socialize."

"Sooo-shhh."

"Socialize," she repeated patiently for him.

"Socialize," he said, and wondered what that meant.

"There's an empty table over there," Rio called out over his shoulder.

They squeezed between bodies. A few males glared, their eyes running over him. Others looked interested and grinned, licking their lips in invitation. Mistresses smiled up at him as he passed, some stroking their fingers across his chest purring "hey, gorgeous."

By the time they reached a table at the far end of the chamber, Red Passion had been thoroughly felt up, front and back. His face felt flushed and his loins ached from the stimulation. Red had to bite his lower lip as he sat to keep from groaning when his pants pulled tight against his erection. Emily perched herself on the little seat next to him. Instead of joining them, Joyce dragged Rio out to the dance floor where they began to move as though mating to the rhythm of the music. Red watched, wishing Emily would pull him out too. Looking at her, she appeared engrossed in observing the people around her.

A scantily clad female approached them and asked him if he wanted to order anything. Red winced, his eyes darting to Emily. Why was this Mistress directing herself to him and not his Mistress? Emily only smiled at him and asked the girl to bring them something he couldn't pronounce. Red couldn't help notice the covetous glances the other Mistress kept giving him, even though he kept his gaze trained on Mistress Emily.

The other Mistress sauntered away, to his relief.

"She seems to like you, Red."

Dread curled in his stomach. Would Mistress Emily give him away? If only she'd allow him to give her pleasure. He was confident in his sexual prowess. Given the chance to prove himself, he'd make her forget his ruined face, but then she put her hand right over his scar. It took all of his will not to flinch from her touch. Still, he bowed his head in shame. How could she put her delicate fingers on that hideous thing on his face?

"Do you want to dance?"

Red's head snapped up at the sound of her voice. Emily gestured to the dance floor with a smile. "It's not too hard. Want to try it?"

"Yes, Im Sheknia, Emily," he blurted, uncaring that he sounded like a too eager whelp.

Red Passion followed her into the crowd, and then stood gaping when she began to sway her lovely curves against him. With a lusty groan, he placed his hands on her waist and moved with her.

She felt like heaven, her full breasts rubbing against his chest, the sweet curve of her ass beckoning his fingers to slide down and cup her to him. Red closed his eyes, feeling his cock twitch, throbbing with want for her. Suddenly, Emily turned and pressed her ass to his erection, dancing in time to the heavy beat of the music. Red swore softly, feeling the tip of his shaft grow wet for her.

"Oh, Im Korana," he breathed in her ear. My love.

She shivered against him, laying her head back against his shoulder, her eyes searching his.

Desire heated her pretty, brown eyes. He was sure of it. No longer caring if she flayed him to death, he dipped his head and covered her mouth with his.

He felt her groan, one hand reaching up to tangle in his loose hair as her tongue plunged past his lips. Red moaned in response, letting his hands slide up to cup her breasts. In return, she ground her ass harder against his erection. Red was ready to come.

"Please," he rasped releasing her lips. "I need..." How did he tell her what he needed? "I hurt."

She pulled away, eyes wide. "You're in pain? I-I didn't bring your meds, Red." She cupped his face, her eyes searching in earnest. "Do you want to go home, Baby?"

She didn't understand. For a moment he thought he'd break down in tears. Cupping his straining cock, he grimaced. "I hurt."

Her look of worry changed to one of realization. Mistress Emily's jaw dropped. She stared at him, her lips working to form words. Her eyes finally closed as she took a deep breath, and then she reached up on her toes to tell him in his ear, "When we get home."

The feel of her soft lips brushing over his ear made him shudder, more liquid oozed down his quivering shaft.

He nodded, "Yes, Im Sheknia Emily. I love you."

She stared at him open mouthed, and he wished he could take his impetuous words back. Mistress Emily hadn't even collared him yet. It was improper of him to push his love onto her— but goddess help him, he never loved a Mistress more.

* * *

She couldn't believe what she'd just done. She shouldn't have kissed him. His taste was still on her lips and tongue, and to make matters worse, he'd said he loved her. He obviously didn't realize what he was saying. Just repeating what he heard from television.

Emily stared at him, guilt making her squirm. He looked at her as if she were his entire world. She shouldn't do this. He was alone, a victim of abuse. Of course he'd become attached to the only person who'd fed and cared for him the past month, but he had to have a family somewhere. She'd thought about it long and hard and had concluded that Red must've been a victim of slave trafficking. She'd heard so much of people, sometimes children being abducted and sold as slaves. 

Joyce and Rio managed to squeeze their way toward them.

"Hey, it's almost time for the dancers to come out," Joyce shouted.

"I definitely want a front row seat for that," Rio added, grinning. "Last time I had a sweet brunette rub his business all over my face, and I'm hoping he's still around."

"Hey, Blondie, I don't want to get kicked out because you're handling the merchandise," Joyce warned.

Rio looked insulted. "I never touched the dude. I only closed my eyes and stuck my face out. He was the one who grabbed me by the back of my head and memorized my face with his thong-clad dick. You're just jealous because it wasn't you."

"Sweetheart, Derek always did that to me before I decided to nip the sweet man's boner with my teeth one night." Joyce smiled. "He's scared of me now."

Rio stared at her in disbelief.

"Oh, come on, if we're going to see the show let's get moving."

Emily suddenly found herself eager for the night to end. She wanted to get Red home... to talk.

They found the perfect spot just as the dancers sauntered out atop the bar that weaved its way around the back of the club.

The dancers at Reirei's were always a spectacular sight. But tonight, Emily felt they didn't quite measure up to the devastatingly sexy man by her side.

Red had commanded the stares of male and female patrons alike the moment they entered the dance club. When the dancers made their way on stage, Red Passion was the target of their attentions.

Once more, Emily felt her self-doubts assail her. Red would look at the dancers as they vied for his attention, and then turn to stare at her. Emily pretended to enjoy the show, watching his reactions from the corner of her eye.

Two dancers, the infamous Derek and another black female beauty, extended their hands to Red. Emily's eyes widened. It wasn't every night that the dancers allowed a mere patron the honor of sharing the limelight with them. They couldn't have picked a more beautiful being to dance with them.

Red allowed them to pull him onstage, turning to Emily once he'd straightened his long legs. His eyes lit a fire within her; her own watched, entranced, as his hips swayed to the heavy beat that went in time with the throbbing between her legs. He shook his hair over to one side, the heavy red mass covering his ruined cheek, and then let his fingers stray to the buttons on his shirt.

She knew she wasn't the only staring, holding her breath. She couldn't be, when an angel of a man began stripping out of his shirt. Red let the black silk fall from his fingers before he caressed his delectable torso, his fingers playing over his erect, coppery nipples before skimming down a ridged abdomen. A chorus of gasps went around when he threw his head back and let his hands flow down the rest of his body, straying naughtily at the erection straining the zipper of his pants. He spread his thighs, running his hands back up to delve into his crimson mane. His hips moved, fucking the air in slow snake-like undulations.

Emily gulped. God, he was too beautiful. She turned to look around and was shocked when she saw Reirei himself standing next to her, cigar in his mouth, smiling up at Red.

"Who is he?" the gruff voice boomed next to her, puffing out a ball of vanilla scented smoke.

Emily shuddered. He looked the type to have an underground slave trade; big, fat, and greasy, with black beady eyes and a goatee.

She turned desperate eyes to Joyce, but her friend was too busy drooling over Red too.

A hand touched her cheek. Red coaxed her to look at him, his face earnest. Emily's eyes went round when he went down on his back and began thrusting his hips, blatantly telling her with his shimmering green eyes what he wanted to do with her.

The black dancer straddled his him and helped herself to some of his movements, but he would not break eye contact with Emily.

"Please," he mouthed to Emily.

She couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing him by his hand, she pulled him. The dancer bucking over him stumbled when Red scrambled out from under her. Keeping a tight hold on Emily's hand, he scooted off the stage, much to the annoyance of the crowd.

"Where are you going?" Rio gasped, looking at her as if she'd lost her mind.

"Hotel," Emily snapped trying to push her way past a horde of people that were trying to paw Red.

"No. Wait." Rio reached into his pocket and handed her a key with a slip of paper. "That's the spare key to my uncle's place. It's just around the corner practically." He gave her an evil grin after his eyes drank in the sight of a shirtless Red. "Have fun. We'll be by in the morning to pick you up."

* * *

Red Passion wanted to cry. Emily dragged him to the front of the chamber, yanked his shirt back on and pushed his long over coat back into his arms while she grabbed hers from the clerk. Was she angry with him? What did he do wrong?

They hurried out into the cold and he stared at her while she waved her hands frantically, looking down the crowded street.

"Sheknia Emily? Please," he begged. "Emordai'." Forgive me.

A yellow transport with a lighted square on its roof stopped before them. Emily almost pushed him in, and then gave the driver a small piece of paper that Rio had handed her.

"Please. Emordai', Sheknia Emily," he sighed again, feeling his eyes fill with tears. He wanted her to give him the lash, stripe his back and ass with her marks of ownership. He didn't want her to give him away to some other Mistress.

She turned to him once the transport began to move, shocking him when she drove her fingers into his hair and took his mouth in a fierce kiss.

Red went limp under her onslaught. Her hand went to his erection and rubbed, making him see stars.

"Oh, yes, Sheknia! Yes," he hissed, humping her hand.

"Please don't call me Sheknia. Just say Emily." She was panting, staring into his eyes. "Can you say that, Baby? Emily"

He felt hurt that she didn't want the title of Mistress. She didn't want to be his Mistress. Emily only wanted to fuck him. He wasn't a pleasure pet, or domestic slave. He was merely a whore now.

"Emily," he whispered closing his eyes so she wouldn't see his tears of pain. Served him right with the way he'd danced before all those people. He'd only wanted to entice her with his body. Well, he'd enticed her well enough. Her lips ate at his and he responded.

Well, then he'd be her whore. He'd paint his face and stay unclothed in her home until she required him to service her. No wonder she'd looked so taken aback when he'd stupidly told her he loved her. What a stupid whore he was. That's why Rio looked at him with so much lust. Whores also serviced prime pets if their mistresses allowed it.

They stopped before another tall building. Emily gave the driver a small rectangular card, then was ushering him out of the transport. They walked into a big lobby and entered a small room. Red felt dizzy for a moment and looked at Emily for reassurance. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her lip, her face a pretty shade of pink.

* * *

Emily couldn't believe she was about to let another man fuck her. Mark had been her first and only one. She cast a quick glance at Red Passion. He was holding on tight to the back rail of the elevator, looking very frightened. Her heart melted.

"This is called an elevator," she explained. "This is a very tall building and this is a quick and easy way to get to the top."

His hold on the rails loosened and he nodded at her.

Not able to help herself, she reached out to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him again. He was the sweetest thing she'd ever had. Red's kiss was reverent, his body shuddering against hers.

"Do you want this, Red? Are you ready for this?"

He looked at her wide-eyed, then fell to his knees and hugged her. "Yours. Please-please, yours."

Emily choked back a sob. God help her... the emotions he stirred within her heart.

"Yes, Baby. Mine."

His hold on her tightened. It was very sweet, but she wanted him to stand before someone came on board the elevator and found a six-foot plus, gorgeous red-head holding onto her for dear life.

"Baby, let me hold you."

He rose and put his arms around her. She smiled, not sure if the embrace was proper etiquette for a public elevator either.

"What is baby?" he murmured against the top of her head.

Emily smiled. How would she explain that one? "It's a special name one calls someone... special." She remained smelling his clean, crisp scent. "What's Im Sheknia?"

"I'm yours."

Emily frowned. Maybe he didn't understand what she asked.

It didn't matter. The elevator doors slid open when they reached the very top of the building. There was a small lobby with a pair of double doors. Emily slipped the key into the lock and walked into a grand, open loft style penthouse.

The floors were glossy black granite, the kitchen area a sprawling section of glass and stainless steel. A counter made of the same material as the floors, divided the dining area that had a glass table with eight white, leather dining chairs. The rug under the black sectional was a furry grey circle, the same shade of grey as the filmy curtains that hung from the twenty-foot ceiling at every section of the plate glass wall that took up the entire back of the penthouse. A steel spiral staircase led to a second floor where Emily and Red found a breath taking master bedroom. The king sized bed sat on a platform. To the left was a rectangular indentation in the wall Emily had the suspicions was a fireplace. Another grey rug spread in front of it with two white recliners. A walk-in closet was to the left of the bed with a large bathroom beyond it, and in front of them was the wide expanse of the twinkling skyline of New York City. A pair of sliding glass doors led to a balcony with a few loungers, but the sight of the bed arrested Emily's eyes again.