“Of course. Mistress Granipants was one of the wealthiest women in all of Opulex. She was a prominent figure here in town—even the Sacred Seven—the ruling body of our world—were willing to hear what she had to say.”
“She sounds like a very influential person,” Lexi said.
“She was.” The Agent nodded eagerly. “Though if you don’t mind me saying so, you look nothing like her, Mistress Alexa,” she added. “She had pale hair and fair skin and very light blue eyes.”
“Just Lexi, please,” Lexi said crisply. “I’m not really a Mistress and I don’t intend to act like one. And if you’re referring to my skin tones, my mother chose to use sperm from a distant planet called ‘Earth’ when she was impregnated with me. I look like some of the inhabitants there.” She made a motion which included her creamy brown skin, long, black hair and dark eyes. “But I assure you, just because I don’t look like the late Mistress Granipants, doesn’t mean we weren’t related—we were. I’m just sorry I never got to know her better.”
Of course, she knew why she hadn’t been better acquainted with her distant relation—Lexi’s mother had disapproved of the Yonnite lifestyle and the way they treated their bodyslaves.
“They buy them and sell them like animals, and shock the life out of them with those horrid pain collars when they’re angry with the poor creatures,” she’d said, shaking her head, her lips thinning down to a white line. “Nobody can deny that males are the inferior sex, but you shouldn’t treat any living creature that way!”
Lexi wholeheartedly agreed with her late mother’s assessment of the Yonnite lifestyle and she was determined not to let her new wealth change her mind about any of it. In fact, she’d pretty much decided that she was going to sell the immense building and give most of the proceeds to some worthy charity…
Until something changed her mind.
TWO
That something was what brought her down here, to the Down Market Slave district today, she thought, as she picked her way carefully down the street.
On that first day in Opulex, she had ridden the cushioned air-lift down to the bottom of the skyscraper she now owned and thanked the Estate Agent politely. She was just about to ask the other woman about putting the whole thing on the market when she’d seen the most appalling sight happening right across the street.
It was a tall, thin Mistress with a beak-like nose and a hairdo made of jewel-encrusted loops of bright crimson hair. She was wearing a dress that could hardly be called that—it was a few thin strips of crimson held together by jewels that left both her breasts and her crotch completely bare. Also, the shoes on her feet were even taller than the ones the Estate Agent was wearing.
But it wasn’t her terrible fashion choices that made Lexi wince in horror. It was the cadre of male bodyslaves the other woman was walking along the street. She had them all in pain collars and leashes and the lot of them—five or so—were on all fours, just like a pack of canines.
The crimson-haired Mistress was laughing as she walked along behind them. When any of the males slowed too much for her liking, she nudged them with what appeared to be an electric pain prod, making them howl and jump, scurrying miserably to the front of the “pack” to try and get away from her cruelty.
The sight made Lexi so mad she could barely see straight. She could never bear to see any living creature abused and the way this Mistress was treating her pack of bodyslaves was beyond the pale.
“Hey!” she’d exclaimed, charging across the busy street so quickly she was nearly hit by a hoverbus. The driver blew his blast-horn angrily but Lexi didn’t even notice. “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” she shouted, coming to a halt on the other side of the street.
The crimson-haired Mistress had seemed surprised to be addressed in such a manner and by such a person as Lexi.
“Why…I’m taking my new pack for a bit of a walk,” she’d said blankly. And then, looking down her sharp, beaky nose she’d added, “And who are you to ask me? You obviously don’t belong here.”
“I’d rather slit my wrists than belong to this place,” Lexi snapped. “Especially when this kind of cruelty goes on right in public.” She nodded at the males, who were cowering on their hands and knees, glancing back nervously at their Mistress. “What are you doing to them? Why are you treating them like that?”
“Like what?” The crimson-haired Mistress seemed honestly confused. “I’m just taking them for a walk. Don’t worry that I’m damaging valuable bodyslaves because these aren’t in the least valuable,” she added, clearly misunderstanding Lexi’s concern. “I’ve just bought them in the Down Market slave district—they aren’t even worth the second-hand pain collars they’re wearing.”
“The Down Market district?” Lexi had repeated incredulously.
“Oh yes—of course.” The Mistress shrugged. “They cost hardly anything at all—which is just as well, since they’re headed straight for my Death Mines as soon as I finish playing with them. Aren’t you, my sweets?” she cooed and poked one of the males with her pain prod, making him jump and let out a muffled howl of agony.
“Stop that—stop it!” Lexi demanded, glaring at the other woman. “And what do you mean, ‘Death Mines’?”
“You really don’t belong here, do you? Your attitude gives you away—though not as much as those hideous clothes,” the other Mistress sniffed. “I happen to be the owner of several Diluthian mines on the outskirts of Opulex. Diluthian is very valuable—it’s used in refining Dream Gas. But it is, unfortunately, quite toxic. The males who mine the stuff last a few weeks—a few months at most—but I do my best to get as much as I can out of them while they live.” She jerked the leashes of the male bodyslaves. “You’ll see my pets,” she crooned. “The Death Mines aren’t a nice place at all, no they’re not! You’ll be wishing for a nice walk in the fresh air with Mistress Crueltongue once you’ve been there for a bit, amongst the toxic Diluthian fumes.”
“So you’re sending them to your mines to die?” Lexi could barely believe the rampant brutality the other woman was admitting to so easily.
“Of course not—I’m sending them there to work,” Mistress Crueltongue corrected her. “But of course, they all eventually do die, which is why I’m always having to replace them. Thank goodness for the Down Market slave district! Without it, I’d never be able to keep my mines staffed and open!”
Lexi didn’t know what to do or say—what the other woman was admitting to was basically cold-blooded murder. And she didn’t seem to care that she was admitting to it at all.
“Males are people too, you know,” she told Mistress Crueltongue. “They may be the inferior sex, but that’s no reason to treat them like animals. In fact, I wouldn’t treat animals the way you’re treating them!”
“If I cared for your opinion, I would have asked for it,” Mistress Crueltongue sniffed. “Good day.” She was about to walk on but Lexi couldn’t let her go.