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You don’t want to be with anyone but Dra’vik, ever again, whispered a little voice in her head. Which was silly, because it wasn’t like they’d made any kind of commitment to each other. Why, they hadn’t even known each other that long, even though she felt like she’d been with the big Drake forever…
“Iyanna! Little girl, over here!”
As though her thoughts of him had called him somehow, she looked up from the black blossoms and saw Dra’vik still sitting at the long table. He was waving at her, beckoning urgently.
“Hurry!” he rumbled. “Come here!”
Iyanna was feeling more and more light-headed and tingly in the most sensitive parts of her anatomy, but she somehow managed to steer herself over to the big Drake.
“Sit here—on my left,” he told her sternly, pointing to an open chair.
“Really? But who…where’s the girl who was sitting there?” she asked.
“Over there—in your old place.” He pointed and, sure enough, Iyanna saw the pleasure slave who had been sitting beside Dra’vik was now occupying her chair. “She wanted to try and earn favor with the Baronet,” Dra’vik murmured to her. “So I asked if she wanted to switch your places and she agreed.”
Iyanna nodded distractedly. She was feeling more and more tingly, more and more needy. And somehow she knew exactly what she needed.
“Mmm, that’s nice. Dra’vik, could you touch me?” she begged softly.
“Touch you?” He frowned. “What are you talking about, little girl? You want to hold hands or something?”
He took her hand but before he could entwine their fingers, Iyanna pushed his big hand down between her legs. Parting her thighs, she pressed his long fingers into her wet folds—which were suddenly very, very wet. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so slick and moist and hot!
“Hey, what are you doing? Gods, you’re wet!” Dra’vik frowned as he drew his hand reluctantly away. “I’d love to, but this isn’t the right time for that, little girl!”
“Actually, it’s the perfect time,” a new voice said. It was a pleasure slave a little way down the table from Iyanna—she had pink skin and daisy-yellow hair.
“What are you talking about?” Dra’vik demanded, frowning at her?
The girl shrugged.
“Well, the esteemed Minister just announced the Public Pleasuring and there’s been plenty of time for the fondle-mush to activate in most of the females here.” She nodded at Iyanna. “I saw how much you ate of yours—you practically licked the bowl clean! You’re going to be needing hard. Though I’m sure your Master will be well able to keep up with you,” she added, nodding obsequiously to Dra’vik.
“What…what are you talking about?” Iyanna wished she felt more clear headed. It wasn’t that she couldn’t think—it was just that it felt like someone had wrapped her brain in a pink, puffy cloud and the thoughts were having trouble getting in and out of it. Wait, did that even make sense?
“Are you saying the, uh, fondle-mush affects you like an aphrodisiac?” Dra’vik asked her. “Because I ate some too!”
The girl shook her head, her daisy yellow hair swishing around her pink shoulders.
“Doesn’t affect males the as much as it does females,” she said. “It makes us females floaty…keeps us needing. Why…” she laughed almost drunkenly. “I wouldn’t even have the nerve to tell you all this if I hadn’t eaten so much of it myself!”
“Do they give this fondle-mush to females often, then?” Dra’vik demanded.
The girl nodded.
“Every day,” she admitted. “And most of us take it willingly—it makes being a pleasure slave so much more bearable.”
“But this stuff is forcing you to do things—want things—you wouldn’t otherwise do or want!” Dra’vik exclaimed, sounding outraged.
Iyanna thought she ought to be outraged too—the fondle-mush sounded like nothing less than a date rape drug! But somehow she couldn’t get her brain, which was still wrapped in the pretty pink cloud, to be angry. What she really felt right now was horny. So horny, in fact, that it was hard to think of anything else. Why wouldn’t Dra’vik touch her?
Just as she was about to ask him, she heard an angry voice at the front of the table.
“What’s this? Where is my table mate? Where is the Viridi Femma?”
“She’s here with me,” Dra’vik said firmly, raising his voice and glaring down the table at the Baronet Sin’estor.
“That isn’t right—you cannot simply trade seats in the middle of the banquet!” The Baronet’s orange eyes were bulging from his skeletal face in fury. “It is now when the pleasure slaves can choose to yield themselves to their dinner companions and I am quite certain your little female would have chosen to yield me!”
Dra’vik eyes were glowing with anger.
“You mean you think she ate enough of that fucking drugged mush to make her willing to let you touch her! What’s wrong with the lot of you? If you’d treat your females like equals you wouldn’t have to drug them to keep them quiet and make them want you!”
