“Where?” a woman with dark hair turned around. She looked like she was in her middle-twenties, but actually she was much older. She was dressed rich and stylish. Aletta Dora was an owner of a hotel, that had an enviable reputation and a name, pretending to originality, “Astory”.
A man, her attendant, tall and fragile, in black, and that’s why looking even more thinner, nodded down. Aletta and the man were standing on the upper deck and looking down at those who were sunbathing. Oceanic liner “Dream” was floating on the azure silk surface, that was sparkling under the sun. A cruise with the same name gathered a motley crowd on the broadside of the snowy-white beauty. The cherry on that cake was a pseudo-incognito rich company of sadists, who have their vacation. Instead of taking a thematic cruise, they decided to go hunting on free slaves, who hadn’t yet known they were slaves.
The pair from a middle class of Firokami, - diamond city-state, - which was considered too violent for the rest of the world, but too affluent to set up any boycott. Once upon a time, hundreds of years ago northern City invites all, who was tired of the regimen of the world, all outsiders, and those who considered themselves like that, including mutants, any anomaly which were supposed to be mythical. And then, separated from a country he’d – he, because the City was alive, - belonged to. Of course, they didn’t want to let go a city, rich with resources in a friendly way, but they weren't able to keep him in a hostile way. A few decades this rational City was getting ready to the war, supporting the science. As a result, he got unapproachable for a war: force fields, warriors-mutants, vampires, psychotropic weapon. Everything that the rest of the world just had been watching in fantastic movies grew up in front of the contradictor’s army. A mayor, Alex Alex, took no compromises. After the victory, there was no one to order to Firokami. He, himself didn’t attack anyone and wasn’t going to, just grew up, reclaimed his lands, became self-sustained and self-supporting. The science strode forward. The Main Law of the City was “to work towards his prosperity.” It was really easy to become a Firokamian «just come to the City and start working towards his good.” It was the freest immigration politics in the world. But it also was the most expensive City. Not every billionaire had enough money to have a high level of life in the City. Firokami’s currency, ingots, was supported by the golden-diamond and the resourcing fond. There was no external debt. Firokami wasn’t the city of equality - the law of the jungle, that was the favourite thing to whine about for those jackals of capitalism of the world, worked ruthlessly here, as it supposed to be in a jungle. Cloyed money-pockets had the newly-arrived and the less lucky citizens in sexual slavery. The City was divided into masters, slaves and Coryphaeuses. Coryphaeuses were beloved ones of the fortune, who carried City on their shoulders openly, all their property and capitals belonged to the City, but they also had all Firokami’s support. Slaves were ultroneous and captured. There was justice – for guarding the order, but usually, it took masters’ side, unless some stronger master would stand for a slave.
Coryphaeuses were the last justice, that’s why every one of them had a call-line, where anyone may make a call, who was offended and asked for help, and every Coryphaeus was obliged to look through those grievances and take decisions on them. It all considered as City’s weal. Coryphaeuses didn’t pay attention to the middle class unless there was a clash of interests.
Aletta narrowed her muddy-grey eyes, which she took as green, looking at a bright crowd down.
“Oh…” she sighed voluptuously and grasped a rail. “I see.”
She turned around and pulled a leash to herself. There was a beast of unique beauty. Tawny sculpture body attracted the eyes wherever it was. He was tall, noble handsome and beastly magnetic. Blue eyes befringe with long, thick eyelashes, always look indifferent. On the right shoulder of the slave, there was a mark, carved letters, A and D. Black hair reached the middle of his back and gave a certain feeling of the primaeval passion. The slave was totally naked, not counting leather sandals, slavish straps, wrapping his body and rungs in his nipples and penis. The slave looked like a predatory animal or a pagan god.
It was allowed for Firokamians to take slaves out of Firokami naked; it didn’t count as a violation of order or morality. The world showed respect to the regimen of the City, whom it was profitable to have deals with, so no one cares at all, as usual, about oppressed people in other countries. Firokami had claimed until religious countries could beat their women with stones, as hundreds of years ago, wrap them into bags, there was no right to outrage the way, Firokami treated his slaves. Eventually, Firokami didn’t keep anyone against their will, and all discontented citizen may have run away, applied for asylum. The City spread his laws only inside of him. But slaves understood the hypocrisy of the rest world soon enough; there was nobody who needs them, there was nowhere to tun to. And the life itself beyond wild Firokami was way too much dwarfier, more pathetic and worse. That’s why, to the City run more often, than out of him.
“Al, suck…” Aletta exhaled, spread her legs and turned away again to the lower deck, giving to slave some space between the rails.
The slave got on his knees in front of the mistress, carefully ran his hand over her hips, and skillfully touched with his tongue Aletta’s lower lips. She felt dizzy; the slave knew how to dip into pleasure since the first movements. How else could it be, the slave had thirty years of experience, that had begun since he was eight.
Aletta’s fellow predatory watched somebody down. He lit a cigarette and went somewhere.
“Where are you going, Stine?” she asked huskily.
“I also want to have a suck, but I need to do something for that, not just look, don’t I?” said the man sarcastically and started going down to the lower deck.
“That’s it, the fun begins this evening… Oh…” Aletta surrendered to the slave’s petting. Now it was time to throw herself into fantasies, without any control. Stine was a very experienced master.
The ocean and sun were so alive; it always seemed they were saying something. The lower deck was closer to the ocean, and Ad listen very carefully, trying not to miss a single word, but sun and water though were speaking about him, kept silence as soon as he tried to catch a word. The boy couldn’t read because of it and was getting annoyed. He was turning in his deck-chair, whether trying to look beyond the deck of the liner and staring with his dark-cherry eyes somewhere far away or turning away from the ocean and sun, which were everywhere, without paying attention to that wet summer whisper.
“Is it uncomfortable in the deck-chair?” said a man mockingly, approaching.
“Not worse than for you, wearing black when it’s such heat,” groused Ad, looking up sharply on the man.
Stine quirked his eyebrow, smirked and sat on the chair’s edge.
“Well, yeah, now it’s more comfortable,” grumbled Ad and sat with long chiselled legs tucked under him.
The ocean and sun started yelling something very loudly. Ad straightened up sharply.
“Looking for anybody?”
Ad wanted to answer, changed his mind, looked at the man a few seconds.
“What do you want?” he asked as if had noticed him a moment ago.
“Nothing,” said the man as indifferently as possible. “Aren’t you afraid of talking to strangers this way? You never know who they are.”
“For example? Clowns?” said the handsome boy acidly.
Stine at this unconquered embodiment of sexuality, imagining, how greedy these lips would take air under the hits of the lash, how these eyes would flame with lust and how tenderly shy would close them the heavy eyelashes. The man chuckled.
“Come tonight to the fourth table. You’ll like it.” Stine threw the cigarette to an impudent boy’s glass which was near.
The first intention of Ad was to splash the content of the glass out behind the man, but he interrupted this, screwed his face into a smile, watched the man went, pleasantly stretching his body, covered with just tiny panties. Ad opened his fairy-tales, now reading satisfied, without listening to the gossip the ocean and sun.
Aletta sat at a table on the upper deck, a tender wind refreshed hot, after an orgasm, face. It was impossible to see the slave, whom they noted yesterday from that point, and now all masters watched the handsome thoroughbred man, still playing and enjoying the foretaste. Aletta lazily gazed from side to side, looking for Stine. The man lifted, nodded to her, but passed by. His sexual tension was stronger than the desire of gossip, so Stine decided to go at his place, to take the strain off. He didn’t take any slave with him from those who were taken by his friends, anyway, no one was able to satisfy his desire which the stranger caused. And he went to the cruise alone, considering it’s weird to go hunting with prey.
"What’s happened there? Go, find out - what. Or rather - when. Go, go!" Aletta slapped the slave’s face, looking at Stine and unclasping the leash from the collar. The slave, who was sitting at his mistress’s legs, got up and headed after the master.
He overtook Stine at his door.
"Master Stine," Al called the man. "Mistress Aletta wants to know what has happened and when."
"What when?" Stine brought his eyebrows closely. He looked thoughtfully at the slave, nodded, "come in."
Al came in obediently. Of course, he’d get punished. Anyway, he would have been punished, if he’d refused and hurried up to the mistress, and he would be punished because he didn’t hurry to the mistress.
Aletta was knocking the table with her long nails impatiently. Where was he hanging out? Wasn’t he able to catch up Stine? It’d been a while already. The woman indifferently decided to wait for Al, making up what she could do with the slave for being insolent and slow.
He would come to dinner anyway.
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