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“Thank you,” she said to the servant. “Lead the way.”
12
ANDI
They went down a long, twisty hallway with no sharp corners—only rounded curves and bends—until at last they reached another archway. The servant bowed Andi through it with Thrax trailing behind and she soon found herself in another large, rounded room filled with people who had tall, blue fluted glasses in their hands.
There were lots of low couches scattered around and many of the women were lounging on them. Or rather, they were lounging on their male-wives, who were sitting on the couches—the women were using them as chairs, just as they had at dinner. Apparently it was beneath a Queen of Salacious Delta to sit on a piece of furniture herself—her male-wife must sit on it first and then she could sit on him.
Andi accepted one of the tall, fluted blue glasses from a servant passing with a tray of them and gave the contents a dubious sniff. Since she didn’t catch even a whiff of licorice, she took a tiny sip and found to her delight that the liquor was actually good—if rather strong. It had a taste like burnt sugar and violets—a surprisingly delicious combination.
“Where’s Queen Itchy-Panties?” Thrax growled in her ear and Andi nearly spit out her drink.
“Thrax! Don’t say it like that,” she scolded under her breath, trying not to laugh. Even though she was mad at him—she thought she was anyway—he still cracked her up.
A moment later, Queen Pantyitch found them, however.
“Oh, there she is!” Andi heard a voice say and then someone was waving her over to the far side of the room. It was the head of the Ruling Collective herself, sitting on her male-wife, who was in turn, sitting on one of the couches.
Andi walked over with a smile on her face.
“Hello, thank you for the invitation. I’m Andrea Elladaughter,” she said, nodding in what she hoped was a polite way.
“Yes, yes—I asked your name before I invited you. Do have a seat beside me.” Queen Pantyitch patted the couch beside her and Andi started to sit down before remembering that Thrax was supposed to sit first so she could lounge in his lap.
“Thrax—sit!” she said forcefully, just as she’d seen Shanna commanding her own male-wife, Rux.
The big Hybrid sat at once and Andi sat in his lap. However, this time Thrax wasn’t content just to be sat on like a piece of furniture. Instead of remaining still, he immediately put his arms around her and pulled her closer. Andi wanted to protest but she was afraid it might look like she didn’t have control of her male-wife, so she did her best to relax in her partner’s arms and act natural.
Luckily, Queen Pantyitch didn’t comment, though she did raise her eyebrows delicately at the possessive way Thrax was holding Andi.
“My dear, I’ve been watching you,” she said to Andi. “And I’m impressed by how well you’ve trained your male-wife. He seems to genuinely enjoy giving you pleasure—which isn’t always the case, I’m sorry to say.”
“But I thought the swamp gas—I mean the Fume—made all the men here submissive?” Andi asked, raising her eyebrows.
“So it does, but not all of them actually want to be submissive and serve their Queens as they should,” Queen Pantyitch said. “However, your male seems to want to serve you—especially sexually.”
“He, uh, certainly does,” Andi said, feeling uncomfortable.
Even now she could feel the lump of Thrax’s cock growing under her bottom again. What was going on with him? Was the Fume actually making him sexually submissive to her? But if he was actually submissive, wouldn’t he show it by obeying her and not going too far instead of by going down on her and making her come three times in a row in public? It was all very confusing…
“What breed of male is he?” Queen Pantyitch asked, her sharp green eyes roving over Thrax’s big form. “Does he have any Kindred blood, perchance?”
Andi perked up immediately.
“As a matter of fact, he’s a Dae’mon Kindred,” she said, nodding. “How did you know?”
“Oh, I can spot a Kindred from a parsec away, my dear. They make excellent male-wives because they already have an innate devotion to females and all things feminine,” Queen Pantyitch said, nodding. “So they love to serve their women. Especially orally.”
Andi felt a burst of disappointment—she’d been sure the other woman was going to say something about how the Kindred were good “seed producers” or something like that. She couldn’t say why, but she had a feeling that the head of the Ruling Collective might know something about the milking farm they were looking for.
“They also make excellent milkers,” Queen Pantyitch continued and Andi perked up again.
“Milkers?” she asked with studied casualness. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Oh, it’s a little enterprise I’ve recently gotten involved in—a facility where we harvest and sell the seed of unusual specimens like your male-wife,” the other woman said. “We pride ourselves on only selling the best and freshest designer seed. Technically it’s a conception center but we like to call it our little ‘milking farm.’” She laughed as though it was some kind of joke.
Andi was tense inside now but she forced herself to remain relaxed in Thrax’s lap.
