The Heavy Date Part 2
09 Aug 2017Mhera Bathana
Exotica, Clair Dock, Tjakiri.Although the room was warm and comfortable, Mhera felt cold. She ran her hands over her body and shivered. Setting her jaw, she smoothed out the light pink sheets tucked neatly in the bed. A moment later she aligned the pillows, and glanced at the chronometer. She had five minutes until the next client.
She looked in the large picture mirror, set upon a sleek bureau of polished hardwoods. They were right. Do the job well, and you receive better accommodations. The reflection stared back. She didn’t recognize the face, highlighted by the soft glow of the lamp. The strawberry blonde hair had been braided into a simple knot at the base of her neck. The stuff was nice, but at the end of the day, it’s just stuff. She hated to admit, but better performance led to better clientele, and she had witnessed some of the unsavoury types that passed through these halls. Her body gave an involuntary shudder.
She hardened her soul, and kept her face soft. Inwardly she was screaming and crying, but she took to heart some of the advice the other girls had given her. Don’t look them in the eyes. Don’t kiss them. And don’t share your inner-self with them. One minute to go. Positioning herself on the corner of the bed, Mhera crossed her legs, ticking the air with her foot and forcing her face into a sweet innocent smile. All those years of schooling…
There was a heavy rap at the door. Mhera knew that she had to sound pleasant, even if she didn’t feel like it.
“Come in,” she said
The door opened, and an enormous man of bulging muscle and sinew behind a tight white tanktop stepped through. His thick arms covered in tattoos, the head shorn, with a five o’clock shadow and pierced ears. But it was the right arm that caught her attention: a heavy mass of mechanical hardware in the form of a sharp and wicked claw.
She gave an involuntary gasp. She knew this man. Back on slaveship, it was raided by men clad in black. One of them was huge and had that same claw. Now, seeing his face, her memory swept back to an evening in the Inara system, at a dingy bar. He had spoken to her then. A simple introduction and, at the time, she’d wanted to get to know him better, but he hadn’t lingered. Later in the evening, he had removed his shirt, and was dancing on a table with some woman. uggh, what a pig. How could I have possibly found him attractive...
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Stryker said, closing the door behind him.
Mhera was taken by surprise and gave the man an embittered glance. “This is exactly where I’m suppose to be.” You saw to that…
“No, you’re not. You’re suppose to be doing some sort of research, if I recall.” Stryker stood leaning his back against the door, one foot resting against it with his arms folded about his chest.
Was this some sort of deranged test? She had heard talk from the other girls about the sick games Black Omega played with their… assets. Unsavory bouts of loyalty, culminating into sick purges of life.
“Why do you care?” She sat on the corner, her foot making a rhythmic sweeping motion, keeping time.
The large man shrugged his broad shoulders. “I was surprised to see you among the livestock.”
Mhera huffed. livestock... she felt sick to her stomach. “So what?”
“So, I figured something had happened. Where’s that pilot of yours?” Stryker asked.
“Dead.” Her foot continued to tick away the time. She didn’t know for sure if Luke had died, but, from what little she had heard, his chances were extremely thin.
The awkward silence between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. Stryker plowed onward. “What happened?”
She kept her eyes locked onto his. She was breaking a rule, but she was going to make sure that he knew exactly the hell he had placed her in.
“Oh, you know, did a bit of science. Surveying a system here and there. Trying to better mankind.” Her foot continued to count away the time. If he wanted to use it to talk, what did it matter to her. It was better then lying on her back.
Stryker’s claw flexed as the large man shifted his weight. Bringing down his foot, he took a step closer. “That didn’t answer the question.”
brute. She felt her lips purse. “People like you, took my ship away, killed my pilot, and sold me off into slavery. Very quite simple.”
Stryker felt the hostility, but kept his tone level and calm. “I’m not the one that sold you into slavery,” he said.
“No, but you’re the one that brought me here.” Inside she was screaming. If he knew I wasn’t a slave, then why would he have let me become property of this hellhole?
“I did,” he said, simply watching her foot.
“You have thirty minutes left.” Seething, she was done talking. At this point, she would have done anything to get rid of him.
“You’re right,” he said simply. He took another step forward.
Mhera felt her eyes roll. disgusting pig. She hated him. He had the power to stop this, before it even had a chance to begin. Laying back on the bed, she turned her head, and fought back tears.
She had been expecting his immense weight upon her, but it never came. The confusion struck her like a brick. She sat up, looking around. He was nowhere to be seen. She didn’t recall hearing the door opening.
She heard his strong voice. “I’m paying for this time. Make yourself useful.”
Leaning forward, she peered over the bed. Stryker was prone on the ground, shoulders wide, hands flat on the floor, and his broad back, stiff and straight as a board. He was at the apex of a push-up.
What? her face became a mixed bag of confusion and anger. What is this? No doubt some bizarre fetish… She felt her disgust for the man ripen. “What is it you want me to do?”
Stryker turned his head to face her. “Take a seat between the shoulder blades. Try to put most of your weight at the base of the neck.”
“What?” She shook her head in astonishment.
“I want you to sit on my back. Place your weight at the base of the neck.” He continued to look up at her.
Slowly she climbed off the bed with a face twisted in disbelief. She sat on the man’s broad back between the shoulder blades, legs dangling over the the trapezius.
Without warning, he lowered his chest to the floor, then powered it up, exhaling. The sudden movement took her balance and she slid sideways landing awkwardly by his side, her head next to the wicked claw. Up close, it terrified her and she choked back a gulp.
“This time, hold on.” He jerked his head, affirmation that they were to try again.
She climbed back on and repositioned herself, placing her hands on his wide lats.
“Ready?” he asked.
“What the hell is this?” she found herself blurting out. A rhythmic knocking thumped through the wall of the room next door.
“Pushups. I figured, I could make use of this time, and you weigh what, sixty or so kilos?” He brought his chest down to the floor, and quickly powered it back up with almost no effort.
The man guessed her weight, and it put her on the defence. “I do not!” she said.
“Ya, you do.” He brought his body back down.
She gave a huff. “So is this some sort of weird fantasy of yours?” she asked, watching the rise and fall of the bureau nearby.
“What’s the difference between your weight or a few plates on my back? Resistance is resistance.” He exhaled.
He has a point….Well so long as I’m not under him… “I suppose nothing,” she conceded.
“Exactly.” The large man quickened his pace.
She watched the clock tick away and was surprised to find that he didn’t stop until the end. “Time’s up,” she said, hopping off his slick, sweaty back she turned to face away from him. “Good day.”
His shirt was damp, and clung to his back. He pulled it away. “Indeed, until next time.”
Next time? She swung around to face him. “So we are going to do this again?”
“Might be more fun, in an actual gym.” He smiled stepping through the door. She watched his claw linger on the door itself, before it too, slipped into the hall, closing the door.
I think it’s time to let the cat out of the bag. Some of you already know, Mhera Bathana is an alt. I created her, as an experiment in writing from the POV of a woman. I decided to go with a scientist, that was naive, and through a series of events, she was tossed into the darker world. She is a dear character to me, and I very much enjoy her perspective on the Elite Dangerous universe. I hope you find her interactions with my main character entertaining.
~Stryker Aune
Thank-you Jemine Ceaser for your edits and suggestions!
And a thank-you M. Lehman for your tutoring, patience, edits and helping me to become a better and stronger author!