Master of the Galaxy by Tasha Temple Page B

slaves and
servants, but one made of linked, white Tavos stones, the most
treasured substance in the galaxy, mined there on the very asteroid
on which we then occupied. Did he create it or have it created
while on Karatar? I have often wondered.
    He attached a tether to the collar and led
me out of the hall. Why I followed in such a manner, I have no
idea. I still do not understand to this day although to be sure I
have given it much thought. It is true I had no guards to prevent
it since they were all inert and held motionless (He did release
them later). But I made no protest either, following meekly behind,
content I suppose, if that is the right word, to follow Him.
    He brought me to his planet. I do not
remember much of the journey, except that we transferred from his
small ship to a very large one. I was treated well and allowed to
move about freely. He was busy with other aspects of the voyage and
I rarely saw him. I had studied systography, the mapping of space,
in my extensive education and I recognized enough from the
placement of the stars to know that the planet to which we traveled
lay far in the uncharted portion of the galaxy.
    How long I spent on his planet I could not
tell you personally as time seemed immaterial. I learned later,
however, that my own race scoured the galaxy to rescue me, the
Jiikorians sparing no expense, using our planet’s considerable
wealth. I suppose I could have orchestrated my own escape, given my
ingenuity, but I did not. Yet it was Yarian efforts to bring me
home that finally did bring about my release from Him.
    I remember the first time he came to me as
if it was yesterday.
    I was in my room. It was spacious, with
enough comforts so that I had felt not at all deprived from Yar,
open windows with a view of His beautiful planet. There were
libraries and meditative places to which I was allowed free access.
I had been escorted there with no instructions and remained unsure
of my role until that day.
    I turned as he entered and he came and stood
before me, his eyes burning down at me, magnetic, intense,
vivid.
    “Undress,” he said simply, his voice strong,
commanding.
    It was not a request.
    I did, pulling the short white dress I wore
slowly over my head and letting it slide to the floor through my
fingers. I had not been given undergarments on His planet and so
was completely nude. We do not go unclothed on Yar and I had never
been uncovered before a man. I remember that his eyes drifted over
me, slowly, lingering on every part of my body. I do not remember
feeling ashamed, but I felt myself flush hot under his gaze and my
flesh quivered as if a sudden breeze had swept through the
room.
    He walked around me, taking his time, as if
scrutinizing, inspecting, evaluating me. In fact, he was. My skin
was alive with sensation although he had not so much as touched me.
I began to wish that he would touch me, but he said nothing, came
no nearer, just watched my reactions with his cool, dark eyes.
    “Place your hands behind your head,” he told
me.
    I did as he asked, trembling at his words
but not because they frightened me. Instead his voice evoked an
urgency in me, something that had been starving and seemed to be
now waking up from a long famine and wanting to be fed, demanding
matters of flesh and carnality to satisfy its salacious
appetite.
    He walked behind me and disappeared from my
sight.
    I became aware of an ache that was beginning
to grow between my thighs. It felt as if something was drawing in
and up inside of me, a need smoldering, warming, throbbing. I
wondered what it was as I tried not to writhe while standing in
place. And then more tingling, but from my breasts this time. I
wondered why they were beginning to hurt as well. Then I realized
it wasn’t my breasts, it was my nipples. I glanced down. They stood
erect, hardened into elongated, taut peaks. And they ached.
Terribly. I almost brought one hand down to touch them to relieve
the pressure.
    Suddenly there was a