Honour

Blackmail, the host of a world’s forests and a woman who knows how to keep her word all challenge
the definitions of honour.

Honour is a horticulturist who has been blackmailed into handing herself over to Raiders. She had no idea that they were trading her for cold, hard cash. Trapped on a strange world, being groomed for a male she had yet to meet, Honour had to admit that even the alien races of the Nyal Imperium had begun to feel like home.

The host lives to serve the forest of Yalki and all the worlds in the Yalki system. He is out to choose a bride that not only matches his personal frequencies, but also compliments his personality. It is a search that he is willing to put a lot of attention into, especially when his chosen finds ways to avoid him on the dream plane. That is the kind of woman he is looking for, intelligent and sneaky. He might be in love.

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Honour

Copyright © 2013 Viola Grace

ISBN: 978-1-77111-753-1

Cover art by Martine Jardin

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books

Look for us online at:

www.extasybooks.com

Honour

A Terran Times Tale

By

Viola Grace

Honour Coyle hid behind a hill and tried to imagine them not spotting her through their myriad scanning devices.

The entire research base had been emptied, and she was the only one left at large. She heard the search ships getting close to her hiding place when she heard the offer.

“Terran, Honour Coyle. If you surrender yourself, the entire base will be released. If you agree to promise to remain where we put you, they will go free and remain so. Break your word and they will die.”

Honour wasn’t sure she was hearing what she thought she was. She looked up, and the skimmer was staring her in the face. “What do you mean?”

“There has been a request for a Terran, and we will gain much by delivering one whole and there of their own free will. No other species will do.”

Honour blinked and narrowed her eyes. “Why not?”

Men were rushing in to grab her arms. They hauled her carefully to her feet. The leader of the attackers leaned in and grinned, “Because he has all the races that he wants in his harem. A Terran was all that he was missing to complete his collection.”

As they started to haul her off, she closed her eyes.

“Damn it.”

This was not how she had planned to end her vacation.

They put her in a cushioned tube and knocked her out. It must have been the easiest way to deal with her. As darkness swelled around her, she knew that when she woke, she wanted some answers.

Nausea was the only thing that sprang to mind when they released her from the tube. The gas that they had used didn’t mesh with her biology.

A hand produced a cup of water. “Drink.”

She grabbed the cup with shaking hands and tried to get the liquid down. It reversed direction as if her stomach had bounced it. Honour hung over the side of the tube and lost the only thing she had consumed since she had been at the base.

Hands lifted her from the tube, and she was put on a floating gurney. She looked up at her captors, and four very heavily armed men in some kind of royal livery had replaced the grubby Raiders.

They didn’t speak; they simply pushed her gurney along through some very thick gates and down a hall. Honour wasn’t up to much analysis; her body was twisted with cramps.

The guards brought the gurney into a room with the unmistakable tang of a medical facility.

A voice spoke to her in soft tones. “They tried to give you water?”

She turned and looked at the man who wore the standard medical tunic over his trousers and a mask over his features.

“How did you guess?” She clenched again as another cramp twisted her.

“Your species specs indicated that they should keep you awake instead of gassing you. When they arrived, they notified us of the manner in which you had been transported. It detracted markedly from their payment.”

“They were paid to attack the research station?”

His dark brows knit together. “No, they were paid to bring a Terran here. What is this about an attack?”

She gave him the story in bursts while he hooked up IVs to her body, and two of the guards lift her onto an exam bed.

Honour had spent her vacation at the Eericourt Research Station. She had been interning and learning about Nyal protocols for processing horticultural samples. The alarm sounded and the inhabitants of the station had scattered, including Honour. She had been instructed to keep running, and she had until the messages had begun to come out over the loud speaker.

“So, you traded your freedom for theirs?”

“I exchanged my freedom for their lives. They had better still be alive or I am going to make my time here of very short duration.” Her cramps had eased, so she carefully crossed her arms.

Her work suit was still torn and filthy, her skin was smudged, but the man attending her ignored that and concentrated on her colouration. When she reached what he considered to be a healthy colour, he began to take samples.

“Why am I here?”

He flicked an amused look at her through dark eyes. “You are the missing piece of the collection. We can’t know what he will prefer until he has samples of all acceptable species to choose from.”

“Wait. Prefer?” She tried to lean back, but he put soft ties around her wrists.

“Indeed. We have assembled all suitable species here, he will meet each of you in turn and finally make his selection. You were the final piece before we begin.”

He put soft loops around her ankles and tightened them. When she was immobile, he cut her clothing away.

“Hey, that was perfectly fine.”

“It is torn and filthy. I am going to run an SRT on you, and for that, your skin needs to be accessible.” He was very matter-of-fact.

She shuddered at the mention of the sexual reflex test. She had heard other Terrans talk about them, but she had never thought that her line of work would require one. It appeared that she had just entered a completely new occupation—one that needed to know how fast she could orgasm.

Honour closed her eyes and fought tears as her clothing was slowly stripped away. Even her boots were sliced to remove them. There was nothing left to cover her when he was done.

There was a humming sound, and her legs were parted. The machine that would administer the test was put in place, and her torture began.

She fought the machine at first, until the light, delicate touches got the better of her. When the first moan broke from her lips, she cursed herself, and as her breath came faster and her body twisted in time to the strokes, the twists and the caresses of the machine and its beam, she decided to get it over with. She surrendered to pleasure and let the programming send her over the edge.

It gave her two minutes, and then, it started again.

One hour of release, respite and arousal exhausted her. When the machine was taken away, another was placed near her head. It spun a beam over her body, and when it finished, she was clean and the sweat was only a recent memory.

Her wrists and ankles were freed, her IV was removed and the man helped her sit up and put a soft black robe around her shoulders. “There. That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

She glared at him. “It is humiliating.”

“Why? Bodies are designed to react to stimuli. There is nothing shameful in that. It is how our species keep reproducing.” He chuckled. “The males learn which buttons to push so that the females don’t hide.”

“It is still humiliating to be at the mercy of limbic reactions.”

“At least you don’t get visible erections in public venues.” His tone was wry.

She looked down and there was indeed a tent under the edge of the tunic. “Ah, I see. Like watching a sex vid.”

“Where pheromones were in heavy play, yes. Your species is an excellent candidate. Not only are you susceptible to scent, but you exude it as well. This increases your chances of pleasing him.”

“Pleasing who? No one has explained who this person is yet.”

He cocked his head and sighed, “I am not authorized to tell you. You will learn the details before you meet him. That is all I can give you.”

“What happens if I am not suitable?”

“You will be returned to the planet where you were taken. No penalty will be enacted. Your people will be fine.”

Hope flickered in her mind, and she finished putting the robe on. “Great. Let’s get this show on the road. I am going to be the worst candidate ever.”

He blinked, and she could swear she saw a smile behind the mask. “Very well. I will have you taken to general quarters. Ask to be brought to medical if you have need.”

She smiled and hopped off the exam bed, catching herself when her knees wobbled. Six orgasms in an hour was her personal best, but it was hell on the voluntary movement of her legs. She staggered for a few steps until she regained control. When the guards came to walk with her, she was almost moving normally.

They guided her down the hall, and two of them waited while the first two escorted her through another enormous gate. If the gate indicated the size of the guy she had just been tested for, she was in a lot of trouble.

The exterior guards wore scarlet and gold; the interior guards wore blue and black. The guards inside took possession of her, and they walked her into the harem.

Honour’s mind translated it as harem, but
haram
back on earth meant forbidden or prohibited, and whatever word they were using in Nyal common was being translated for her into harem. She was being put in a prohibited zone full of females.

The guards weren’t chatty. She tried to get an idea of the species she was dealing with, but the guards were concealed except for their eyes. They had eyebrows, dark eyes and thick lashes. Aside from that, she had no clue what she was surrounded by.

The scent of flowers reached her before they entered the gardens. The guards gripped her arms and kept her moving forward when the two hundred pairs of eyes turned to stare at her. The other females looked frightened, hostile, curious and calculating all at the same time. Honour suddenly felt a lot less confident about her ability to survive until she was sent back to the base.

“You will be bathed and groomed.” One of the guards spoke with a feminine tone. His body was not feminine so Honour was guessing armed eunuch.

“I was just scrubbed in medical.”

“You need to relax and eat. Bathing will allow you to do both. Would you prefer the public chambers or the private?”

Relieved to be given the option, she said, “Private.”

The guards nodded and slightly changed their path.

The groomers were two silent women who went after all hair below Honour’s chin as if there was some kind of prize for the most removed. After she was plucked bald, they bullied her into a hot, scented bath that did actually relax her. Small sandwiches and fruit were provided with chilled fruit juices, Honour felt pampered and mellow by the time she was pulled from the water and tucked into a longer robe with a wide cincher that pulled her waist in ridiculously tight.

The groomers sat her down and wrangled her dark hair until it was twisted up and curls were shooting out in smooth cascades.

The guards were waiting for her outside the bathing chamber, and they showed her the cubicle that she was going to call her own for the duration of her stay. It was sparse but enormous at twenty by twenty. Honour had never before had a room that was big enough to skip rope in.

“Morning bells will be your call to meal time. Follow the others into the gardens, your meal will be waiting. If you need help, call for one of the guards. We honour your sacrifice.” The guard pressed his hand to his chest, and he bowed low.

Honour blinked and backed into her cubicle. If they thought she was engaging in some kind of sacrifice, what the hell was she supposed to be seducing?