Chapter Three

Conyod, age 15

Conyod scowled at the law enforcement psychologist who'd been grilling him for almost two hours. "I got tired of being bothered about chores and schoolwork. I wanted a break, so I left."

"Two weeks ago."

"Like I said."

"Here's the problem, Conyod." The psychologist, a Dramok who'd introduced himself as Tyaru, leaned toward him. He smiled confidentially, as if they were old friends who trusted their secrets to each other. "You're too thin for someone who's been on his own for two weeks. Especially for someone who admits he brought a week's worth of food when he ran off. You have the look of a boy who's been neglected for a long time."

Conyod bristled. "Hardly. Until I snuck off, my family knew where I was every second of the day. They run a successful kestarsh ranch. We have plenty of food. I just don't eat much."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not hungry!"

"No need to get excited, Conyod. Prior to leaving home, when did you last get a decent night's sleep?"

Stupid questions, and Tyaru kept asking them over and over. Why didn't he just call Conyod's parent clan to pick up their runaway son? What was he trying to prove?

At least Sletran had been true to his word and the authorities had allowed him to stick close. The Nobek sat next to Conyod in the small conversation area in a corner of Tyaru's small, dingy office. When the young Imdiko looked at Sletran, he gave him a smile of encouragement.

It was as if the soldier actually cared. Conyod doubted he did, but he appreciated the show. Sletran was obviously a good man as well as the perfect protective Nobek. Conyod found himself wishing he could move closer to him and have Sletran put his arm around him for comfort.

"Conyod? How well do you sleep at home?" Tyaru pressed.

"Like shit."

His profanity elicited no reaction from the psychologist. "Why not?"

"I have nightmares. Don't you ever have bad dreams?" He was becoming confrontational, but he was tired of the interrogation. Send me home and leave me alone.

"I have nightmares. Every night? No. Is that how often you have bad dreams?"

Try two or three a night. Conyod was done answering his questions, however. "I want to com my parents. It's time they came and got me."

"Letting you go home might be impossible, I'm afraid."

Conyod stared at him. Was he in trouble for stealing produce from the farm? A vision of him stuck in a containment cell, surrounded by criminals, stabbed ice in his heart. "Why? Am I being charged? I took only a couple handfuls of berries!"

"Easy, Conyod. You aren't in trouble."

"Then why can't I go home?"

Tyaru glanced at Sletran. "Well, it may be your parents aren't doing their duty by you as they should. They did report you missing, but you're underweight, a sign of neglect. Perhaps the issue is inattention to your needs. Something's obviously wrong at home, especially since you ran away."

Conyod sat staring at him, his mouth hanging open. Neglect? Tyaru thought his parents weren't paying attention to him?

Laughter surprised him as much as Tyaru and Sletran, but once it started, he couldn't stop. He sat on the cushion, whooping peals until his ribs hurt and tears flooded his cheeks. He howled laughter until he nearly passed out from lack of breath. Sletran did put his arm around him then, to keep Conyod from crumpling full-length on the floor.

"Oh, ancestors," he wheezed when he finally began to regain control. "That's…that's incredible. Neglect. Oh, you…you actually think…"

He had to stop or he'd give in to hysterical mirth again.

Sletran helped him sit up. "What's going on at home, Conyod? An Imdiko minor running away who's in the shape you are is serious legal trouble for his parent clan. If they've done nothing wrong, you need to tell us."

His warning sobered Conyod. He hadn't realized his bid for freedom would have such repercussions on his parents.

"They aren't neglecting me. It's the opposite, in fact." He spoke to Sletran instead of the therapist against whom he'd develop a serious case of mistrust and antipathy. "They're always there, watching every move I make. Yeah, I don't eat well, but it isn't because they don't feed me. They're constantly bugging me to put on weight. All day long, it's ‘Conyod, where are you going?' or ‘Conyod, finish your steak,' or ‘Conyod, you can't go visit your friends since none of us are free to go with you.' I can't take a breath without someone there to notice it. I wish they would neglect me, at least for a few seconds!"

Sletran regarded him throughout his diatribe. Watched him closely, in fact, but didn't scrutinize him as his parents did. The Nobek showed mere interest, unworried Conyod might suddenly vanish into thin air. "You ran away because they paid too close attention to you?"

"I only wanted to escape the constant supervision for a while. I felt like I'd explode," he admitted. "They love me, but it's driving me crazy. Our house, the ranch, those damned mountains…they all feel like they're closing in."

"Have they always been so overprotective?"

Tyaru's voice came from a distance. For Conyod, there was only Sletran. Kind, understanding Sletran, who saw him sitting there instead of a would-be vacancy.

"Ever since my brother rode to the mountains and didn't come home, they've been scared the same thing would happen to me. Which is hilarious because I hate the mountains. I wouldn't go there if you paid me every cent the Imperial Clan has. Especially now since the ghost started roaming the area."

"Ghost?" Sletran's brows drew together.

"Yeah, all the ranch's hands talk about the boy in white who's been sighted on several occasions on our land. They've seen him near the corral or on the plain, staring at the mountains. Most think it's the spirit of Hoslek, my brother."

"Have you ever seen it, Conyod?" Tyaru asked.

"No. I'm never allowed out of the house after dark. I'm not allowed anywhere my parents aren't."

"Breathe," Sletran whispered. His big hand rubbed the back of Conyod's neck. "Relax and breathe, Imdiko."

"All I want is to breathe. They keep me cooped up. They won't give me any room. I feel like a prisoner in my own home." The tears that came this time weren't from a hysterical laughing fit. They sprang from the ache of having his every move under constant scrutiny, of love gone suffocating. "I can't breathe. They won't let me have any air. That's why I left."

* * * *

Sletran, age 35

Conyod's sleeping room was still dark when Sletran's interior clock woke him. The window vids displayed a sea sparkling under moonlight.

Not the mountains. He hated the mountains, especially those near his childhood home. Hated and feared them.

The Nobek wondered if Conyod had gotten over his loathing of those scenic peaks, the site of his older brother's death.

His night vision was excellent, and the dim illumination allowed him to examine Conyod's slumbering features. Once again, he marveled at how stunning his lover of the night before had become. How much a man the Imdiko was. Only the shape of his nose and chin remained to remind Sletran of the troubled teen he'd rescued from a pack of bullies. The child appeared to be long gone.

Such a beautiful, desirable man. Sletran had never imagined the skinny boy with the hollowed eyes could become this gorgeous creature. He was amazed anew, as he'd been when he'd sighted Conyod in the bar yesterday.

He's laid his ghosts to rest.

As if sensing Sletran's scrutiny, Conyod's eyelids fluttered open. He blinked at the Nobek, and a smile curved his lush lips. "It wasn't a dream. You're here."

"I'm here." And ridiculously glad he was.

"How long can I keep you here?" Conyod's fingertips skated over Sletran's chest and abdomen, lower still until he found how awake Sletran was. "I can't allow you to leave in this state."

"I should hope not. Maybe the good Dr. Conyod can cure me in an hour? I have to get back to base for drills."

"You're very gifted at drilling, I noticed."

Sletran laughed. "Worst pun ever."

"Then I have to earn your forgiveness too."

"What did you have in mind?"

Conyod grinned at Sletran's question. They'd barely scratched the surface of his many fantasies starring the Nobek.

"You're a squad leader and instructor, right? A big deal, in charge of the enlisted men."

"Hardly a big deal." His eyes twinkled amusement, a funny look given how hard and pulsing his primary was in Conyod's stroking palm.

"Oh? You don't deal punishment for infractions?"

"Disciplining wayward soldiers is part of my job description." His cock jerked in Conyod's grip. He liked where this line of questioning was going.

"Strappings, I suppose. And having them submitting to getting their asses fucked, so they're humiliated…right?"

Sletran licked his lips, his gaze running over Conyod. "If I believe it'll make them think twice about committing future breaches in conduct."

"Would a terrible pun be enough to earn a reminder of how offensive such humor is? How awful I am to assault your ears by committing this sort of foolishness?"

Sletran's delighted grin answered for him. "On your belly, boy. Your ass is about to sting. Hold on. I left my clothes in your greeting room."

He dashed out but quickly returned holding his utility belt studded by its many sheaths and pouches. Conyod's shafts surged heat as much at his lover's excited expression as the anticipation of putting himself at his mercy. They did so again as Sletran whipped the covers from the sleeping mat to expose him.

Conyod lay carefully on his stomach, aware of his erections as he did so. He peered through the midnight spill of hair to watch Sletran as he stripped his belt clear of devices. The various pouches containing knives, a handheld computer, com unit, and various other tools of a squad leader's trade thumped in quick succession to the ground.

The strap minus its accessories was thick. A nervous thrill shot through Conyod.

Sletran approached the sleeping mat, eyeing the vulnerable ass awaiting his correction. Rather than immediately roasting it, however, he rubbed the muscular cheeks. His coarse massage sent excitement tumbling straight to Conyod's trapped lengths.

The Nobek's gaze moved up. He frowned. "Hair out of the way. I want to watch your face while I beat your ass, boy, so I can make sure you're learning your lesson."

"Yes, sir." Conyod flipped the thick tresses aside. Though he'd never served in the ground troops…an Imdiko soldier was an immense rarity…he was aware of how errant soldiers were disciplined by their superiors. He doubted any of them found it enjoyable, but they probably weren't giving themselves to a fantasy he'd entertained through the years.

He'd finally learn if the fantasy could be as good as real-life play.

Sletran dropped the stern disciplinarian act long enough to say, "Give me a word to signal if this becomes too much. Something odd, off the wall."

Conyod had forgotten his safety in his excitement. Once more, Sletran was protecting him from real harm. "Berlub."

Sletran chuckled to hear him name the stolen berries that had brought them together all those years ago. "Berlub it is." His expression hardened again, and he became the officer bringing the force of punishment to bear. "Don't move, boy. An attempt to escape punishment or hide your face from me will result in double."

"Yes, sir." Conyod's heart sped as the Nobek ceased rubbing his ass. His soon-to-be-strapped ass.

Sletran stood tall and imposing, the thick leather poised for the first strike. It came in a blur of motion.

Conyod heard the meaty smack before he felt it. Then the pain was upon him, lighting a streak of fire across his buttocks. He gasped, and Sletran struck a second time.

Conyod shouted. The intensity was incredible, and he barely stopped himself from scrambling across the bed to escape. Fortunately, he'd done pain play in the past, so he knew what to expect…but the furious blaze across his ass was as intense as anything he'd experienced prior to this.

Another blow from the strap. He wailed and kicked but managed to remain in place.

"That's right," Sletran grunted. Conyod managed to somehow note in the midst of his torment how pleased the Nobek sounded. "I love hearing a lesson well-learned."

He paused the strapping to rub Conyod's ass. The rough handling, centered on where the belt had fallen, tormented him as much as the strikes. Conyod held his forearm to his mouth to muffle his involuntary squall.

Sletran resumed whipping him. After a few strokes, he massaged the searing flesh once more. Conyod made no attempt to quiet his cries. It hurt.

However, another sensation was making itself known. When Sletran's strap returned to its disciplinary work, Conyod grew aware of a buzzing sensation in his skull. The pain was transforming. It burned like hell, but the torment hadn't alleviated his carnal urges. Indeed, he was growing more aroused as he sank in his helplessness before his "superior officer."

His yelps changed to moans as the heat of anguish and rapture melted into a single intense sensation. His cock plumped beneath him, and he writhed to apply friction to already aching need. Every slap from Sletran's leather added to the cacophony of lust. His ass rose to meet it, rather than shying away.

"Fuck," Sletran breathed, and tossed the strap aside. He scrambled to get behind Conyod, between his legs. His hands gripped the Imdiko's hips and lifted. An instant later, he sank his thick, wet primary in Conyod's ass.

Conyod shouted as his lover's shaft rubbed his inner hotspot. A jolt of sheer pleasure shot through his lengths, threatening to make him spill. Sletran pushed fully in him, then paused. The Nobek's hot breath beat against Conyod's ear as he gasped.

"So damned good," Sletran groaned. His hand squirmed beneath Conyod, who was too focused on the bliss pulsing in his sexes to register what was happening.

He was close to climax and eager to let it happen, but a strong grip at the base of his primary asserted he wouldn't. He yelped a complaint, but Sletran grabbed the back of his neck with his other hand and held him down.

"No, you don't. Not until I decide you can, soldier," he growled. "First, you're going to take a rough fucking. Then…if I feel like it…you can come for me."

He pounded Conyod's ass hard, holding him helpless, damming up the threatening orgasm. Conyod howled in agonized ecstasy, the brutal friction on his cumspot sending molten cum to his larger shaft. It was blocked from escape by Sletran's uncompromising grip. The continuous smacks of Sletran's groin to his strapped ass added to the excruciating rapture that left Conyod screaming in the bed linens.

"Yeah, you feel it, don't you?"

He rutted, his powerful thrusts rocking Conyod despite the grip on his neck keeping him from fleeing. Conyod clawed the sheets, fighting for purchase. He had to come. He'd die if he didn't.

Sletran's groan filled the air. His shaft pulsed hugely in Conyod's ass, his hot seed filling him. He continued to drive deep the whole while, refusing to relent. Even after his moans dissipated and it was obvious he'd finished shooting his passion in Conyod, he continued to fuck him.

"Damn, that was amazing. Fucking incredible," he muttered.

Conyod wailed into the mattress, feeling his loins would explode.

"Yeah, you want it, don't you? You want to come for me. Let me hear you beg me to let you come, boy."

Conyod managed to twist his head so his face wasn't buried in the bed. "Please, sir, please let me come."

"More, boy. Say it like you mean it."

Conyod fairly screamed. "Please! I want to come for you! Let me come for you, sir!"

"All right. This time."

His grip loosened only slightly, just enough to allow him to pump Conyod's clamoring primary. Enough to allow the burning tide to erupt in breath-stealing jolts, each accompanied by the Imdiko's scream of agonized release.

He was certain he'd never come so hard or for so long. Even when Sletran let him collapse in a twitching heap, his emptied loins continued to spasm.

Sletran crashed to the mat next to him. "Shit, Conyod. That was insane. Exciting as hell."

Conyod found the strength to grunt.

Sletran chuckled and sat up to rub his shoulders. "Your ass is a lovely red. Should I fetch you something for pain?"

He mumbled, "Not yet. If I'm lucky and it doesn't get too bad, I can have it for a lovely reminder during work of our night together."

The Nobek's grin was admiring. "I can't get over how you grew up. You're all man, my friend. And then some."

Conyod considered. Had it been merely an enjoyable interlude for Sletran? Did he dare hope for more?

He couldn't stand not knowing. He made the leap. "Any chance we could get together again?"

Sletran leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Every chance. Let's set a date."

Conyod could have screamed for joy.

* * * *

Usually, the moment he stepped across the boundary where his battalion bunked, anything going on personally ceased to exist in Sletran's mind. Here, he was squad leader, personally in charge of nearly fifty combat troops. He lived and breathed the soldier's life. He saw the Kalquorian army as his extended clan, regarded it as a lover. He was determined to give it all he was.

He didn't miss infatuation was turning his head from his adored ground forces. Conyod refused to leave his mind, refused to be respectful to Sletran's first love by bowing off the stage until he was called on to return. Visions of the muscled physique straining beneath Sletran, of his ass reddening under the Nobek's strap, of him yielding to his urgent cock…

Damn.

"Squad Leader Sletran!" A young Nobek hurried toward him, stopped a few feet away, and bowed. "Sir!"

Someone had a message for him, and Sletran noted the soldier had been waiting for his return to base. He checked the time. He was reporting fifteen minutes early, so he wasn't in trouble for being late. However, something important was up if he was being summoned so urgently. It helped to chase the images from the night before off. "Report."

"Group Commander Erybet needs you to report to his office immediately."

"Thank you, soldier." He hurried to his commanding officer.

The aide sitting at the desk outside the group commander's office waved him in immediately. Sletran hurried to stand in front of Erybet's desk and bowed.

"Squad leader Sletran reporting, as ordered."

"At ease, soldier." The other man's tone betrayed no sign of stress despite the urgency of the summons.

Sletran stood up straight and met his eyes. He wondered when he'd stop being struck by Erybet's looks. After more than a year, he should be used to his commanding officer's appearance.

Erybet was, in a word, beautiful. His black hair flowed photogenically over his shoulders and back. His eyes were hooded, but so slightly he looked sexy rather than sleepy. His nose was straight, his jaw strong, his lips full and sensual. He wasn't as muscled as Sletran, or even Conyod, but he was strong, and his fighting prowess had been well established. Sletran had never met a more stunning man in person.

The Nobek understood such a lovely face and physique had made it difficult for many to take Erybet seriously as a soldier and commanding officer of his rank. The fact he was a Dramok instead of a member of the warrior breed hadn't helped matters.

It wasn't that there weren't Dramoks in the ground troop ranks. The men who tended naturally to leadership among Kalquor's males numbered less than an eighth of the fighting population. They rarely remained part of the army past a single enlistment term, however. Nobeks saw the ground troops as their territory, their proving ground. Dramoks were given hell for daring to step on Nobek turf. For Erybet to have stayed and risen to his rank meant he was one hell of a tough customer.

For that reason, Sletran had been among the few to avoid challenging or disrespecting Erybet. It was obvious the Dramok had proven himself. Sletran treated him as he would any Nobek group commander and obeyed his orders without a second thought. He saw Erybet's rank as no threat or insult to his own strength as a soldier.

"I'm sorry to have called you in as if the empire was falling down, but it may as well be," Erybet began. "High Commander Zyrf has sprung a surprise challenge on us. We're to run war games this afternoon."

Despite the sudden change in the day's itinerary, Erybet didn't sound upset in the least. He also offered no comment about Zyrf, though the high commander seemed to think it was his life's mission to make Erybet's command challenging. Sletran thought he detected a hint of pleasure in his superior's voice, the same pleasure singing in his own heart at the news. "Who are we up against, sir?"

"Commander Binmej's battalion."

Sletran allowed a grin. "A worthy challenge."

"Indeed. I expect us to win."

An interesting side effect about being part of a Dramok's company was the troops had a tendency to fight harder to prove they weren't weak due to their commander's breed. The Nobeks under Erybet's command had made it a point of pride to kick their competition's collective ass as often as possible.

"We'll win, sir."

"You're dismissed to ready your squads."

Sletran bowed and rushed out. A fight against fierce opponents after incredible sex with a gorgeous Imdiko? He couldn't imagine life getting any better.