Bacchus

Bron bowed deeply once more and backed out of the room between the Security detail. He wasn't at all surprised that Landry had listened in on his whispered conversation with Angelina. For all Bron's size and inhuman anatomy, the real monster in that room was Jorgus.

He was taken directly back to his work, where his first task was the disposal of the thirteen dead Maintenance Worker Genies. He took a secret satisfaction from that. He realized his natural numbness had been reduced by this experience. He wondered if that was a good thing or not.

It was a busy night for him. A rough group of patrons bought out one of the smaller brothels and did some truly horrifying things to the sex workers after raping them. Eight Genies were brought in for euthanizing. Bron had difficulty distancing his emotions from them, but considering the damage they'd taken, it really was merciful to release them from their pain. That said, he was pretty shaky once he was done. They reminded him too much of Angelina. He considered his new state to be a bit of a hindrance to his occupation now.

He staggered into the cafeteria at the end of his shift and tucked into the pile of food blocks he'd been allotted to replenish the calories he'd used recently. He had no appetite, but he ate the food and drank the water as required. When he stood to put his tray back, four Security goons collected him without a word and fast-marched him back to the conference room. He felt dread in the pit of his stomach, and had it been possible for him to throw up, he would have gratefully done so.

Once more, he was ushered before Jorgus Landry. He bowed deeply and kept his eyes on the floor.

"You're becoming a bit of a nuisance, you know that?" Landry growled.

Fear gripped Bron.

"But I did manage to find a way to get my money back for you and the Genies you destroyed. You're just damn lucky you weren't created in one of our labs," Landry said.

The door opened, and Pietr Rykov walked in. He glanced over at Bron, then walked straight over to Landry. The two men held out their comms and made a funds transfer. Landry then sent Rykov a data block, the specs on file for his new acquisition.

"Good doing business with you, Mr. Rykov!" Landry smiled his shark grin at the other man, who just set his mouth in a grim line and walked back to Bron. He grimaced up at the large Genie. "You-you're mine now. Follow me."

Before they left the room, a Security officer handed Rykov a set of controls for Bron's discipline collar.

Security followed them all the way to the spaceport. As Pietr Rykov was one of the senior political officials from Walla, one of the more prosperous planets in the Confederacy, he'd arrived by one of Walla's military transports, not on one of the cruise liners. Now Bron understood Landry's comment about it being fortunate he'd been created off-planet. The restriction on Bacchus-created Genies didn't apply to him, so he could leave. Not that there was anywhere for him to go. Most planets still considered him to be an illegal biological construct.

A harried-looking man in some kind of space navy uniform approached Pietr in a rush. "Mr. Rykov, please, we really need to be on our way--what is THAT?" He drew up short when he saw the tall blue-black creature standing behind Pietr.

"Lieutenant Fillion. This is Bron. My daughter's guardian. It will be traveling with her," he said firmly.

"But-it's a Genie!" the startled man gasped.

"Brilliant deduction! Now, shall we get moving, or are there any more obvious facts you'd like to share?" Pietr said scornfully.

"They're illegal on Walla!" Fillion continued to gasp.

"No. So far, only creating them is. Having one is not. The bill that would make having them illegal is currently tied up in the courts waiting on some critical votes, mine included," Rykov explained slowly to the flustered man. "Now, may we leave, or are you willing to take over paying the exorbitant docking fees?"

The Lieutenant stepped aside, and Rykov walked up the ship's personnel ramp. Bron followed, and Fillion brought up the rear at a cautious distance. Only when the ramp retracted, sealing Bron inside the ship, did the Security team leave.

Fillion returned to his post, and Pietr led Bron through the corridors until they reached his stateroom. The muffled sounds of crying came through the door they stood before. The man turned and looked up at Bron, a cold, steely look in his eye.

"You may have noticed I am not comfortable with this arrangement. If it wasn't for the calming effect you seem to have on my daughter's traumatized mind, I would have left you to that jackal Landry. He let me know that if I didn't buy you out, you were headed for the fighting pits to make up the cost in lost workers. Your life expectancy would have been measured in days, if not hours. The fee he charged me for you was outrageous, but I'm hoping that is compensated in reduced psychiatric care fees." He paused to listen to his daughter's racking sobs. Some of the anger and frustration left him as he heard her. Troubled, he looked once more into Bron's eyes. "Is my daughter safe with you?"

Bron was confused. He didn't know what his new role was. "What is my purpose?" he asked.

"You'll be her bodyguard. You've proven you can do that, at least. Protect her from danger. I understand you stopped those Genies before they could rape her, but she's experienced terrible trauma. Be there for her. Help her get past her fears," Pietr said, then looked him over. "But no sex!" He looked down at Bron's lack of genitalia. "Well, that doesn't appear to be an issue, anyway. Once more, is my daughter safe with you?"

Bron considered the man. His new master, albeit reluctantly. Maybe that was the difference. Inside the room, he heard the young woman crying. He didn't really know why, but something was drawing him to her side. He just wanted the man to open the door. He nodded.

Pietr moved to the door and held up his hand to make Bron wait. He opened it slowly. His daughter began shrieking until he stepped inside, and she saw it was only him. The young woman was sobbing on the floor behind the chair she'd need to be in for take-off.

"Angelina, please calm down. I've brought you something to help you calm down." Unable to wait any longer, Bron stepped into the room, and Angelina's mouth dropped open. Not taking her eye off him, she scrambled on hand and knees to get out from behind the chair then ran across the stateroom to throw herself against Bron's chest. Once more, the sobs poured out, and he held her in his powerful arms.

"We need to be seated so the ship can register our location, and we can leave," Pietr said firmly.

When Angelina didn't respond, Bron scooped her up, carried her to her seat, and helped Pietr strap her in.

"Papa, Papa, Papa!" Angelina gripped Bron's hand as she stared in panic at her father.

"It's coming with us. Bron belongs to me now," he assured his daughter and saw her relax a little. She wouldn't release Bron's hand, so Pietr directed him to the seat next to his daughter and strapped him in. His own seat taken, he pulled out an emergency crew seat next to the door and strapped himself in.

A voice came in over the room's intercom. "Mr. Rykov, this is Captain Shareem. I'm registering three occupants in your stateroom, is that correct? Would you please send me the details for our extra passenger?"

Pietr tapped his comm, and it blurted the data packet to the ship's system. "There you go, Captain."

Seconds later, the intercom came on again. "A Genie! You brought a Genie on my ship?" the captain's outraged voice yelled out.

"A ship my budget approval will keep in service," Pietr replied calmly.

There was a pause, then a terse reply. "We will discuss this after launch." The intercom went dead.

Departure from that point on was routine, but for Bron, who had never been conscious through the process, it was all fascinating. Every bump, shudder, and ping as the ship disengaged from the port's umbilical cables was a question racing through his mind. He wasn't nervous, just excited. That was another new emotion for him.

When the ship taxied out to the launch zone, it turned on the inertial dampeners, and the ship's noises simply stopped. Unlike the cruise liners, which landed the patrons in shuttles, their ship had surface-to-space capabilities. They reached the launch cradle, and the craft tipped up to launch angle. The engines built up their thrust, and they shot up the rails to be launched into space.

Pressed back in his seat, Bron looked over at Angelina, who hadn't taken her eye off him since he strapped her in her chair. They were still holding hands.

The ship soon reached the edge of the atmosphere, and the internal gravity fields came online. Down became the floor once more. They changed vectors and lined up for the first jump point, ETA thirty minutes.

Pietr unbuckled from his seat and stowed it away in the wall compartment. With a final meaningful stare at Bron, he left the stateroom.

Bron looked down at his chair restraints and tried to figure out how to release them. Before he could, Angelina crawled up on his lap and tucked herself against his chest. She was shivering, though the room was quite comfortable. She wasn't a small woman, so he wasn't too comfortable trapped in the chair with her on his legs.

"When was the last time you slept?" he asked.

"I can't sleep! I see them when I close my eyes," she whispered.

"You know they're gone, don't you? I killed them all," he explained gently.

She pulled back from his chest to look him in the eye. "Gone?"

"When I fought them off, I used too much strength, and I killed them. My job on Bacchus was disposing of Genie corpses. I put all thirteen of them into the reclamation vats to be dissolved into their base chemicals. They are gone, and they can never, ever hurt you again," he said, looking her directly in the eye so she could see he was being honest with her.

Her bottom lip was trembling, and tears pooled in her eye. The bandage on the other one was definitely becoming saturated. She managed to mouth thank you before she cried silently, her face in her hands.

"We should call for a fresh bandage for your eye, and you should really get some rest. You will feel better once you've slept," he said gently.

She pointed to the next room, then slid off his lap to stand at his feet. Bron struggled with the buckle until she reached in and tugged on the proper lever and all the straps retracted. He looked at her with a sheepish grin and got a small smile in return.

She snagged his hand and dragged him through a bedroom to a washroom beyond. He saw there was a stack of fresh bandages on the counter. He carefully peeled the wet bandage from her eye and dabbed it dry with a clean facecloth.

"Am I hideous?" she moaned.

"No, not at all. Your eye is just swollen. If you take care of it, the tissues will heal, and there will be no sign of this in a week or so. You'll be back to having two beautiful eyes in no time at all," he smiled at her, then realized he sounded like he was flirting with a citizen!

His face fell. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be so forward." He ducked his head, preparing for the discipline collar's shock.

He felt her fingers on his chin. She tilted his face up to look at her. Angelina had a small smile on her lips. She couldn't smile too widely as her lip was injured, but he could see it in her eye. She was happy. "I'm not going to punish you for being sweet. Thank you!"

He picked up a clean bandage and affixed it with tape over her injured eye. Her other eye watched him with a pleased twinkle. He followed her out into the bedroom. In her exhaustion, she tugged off her silk blouse. She was only wearing the smallest of bras under it. It just provided support under her breasts, so the flesh didn't bounce around and strain her bruises. Unfortunately, it left her nipples quite exposed. Bron spun around to face the wall. She unzipped and tugged down the tight skirt she was wearing and shuffled to her bureau to pull out a nightie. She unhooked her bra and tossed it in the drawer. As she pulled the sleepwear over her head, she saw Bron standing at rigid attention facing the wall.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Bron. I'm so out of it, I didn't think of you," she said, wobbling on her feet.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw she was covered up again. He turned and guided her to the bed and helped her in under the covers. When he turned to leave, she reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Please stay," she pleaded.

He nodded and sat on the floor next to the bed. He leaned against the side as she pulled his right arm over her stomach on top of the blanket. He froze in surprise, but relaxed when she looked at him with a pleading expression.

With her right hand, she reached out and touched a fingertip to the side of his goggles. "May I see your eyes?" she asked.

"It's too bright in here," he replied.

"I'll dim the lights," she smiled. "Room Lights, twenty percent," she said distinctly, and the room dimmed. Bron pushed the goggles up his forehead.

"Oh! You have beautiful eyes too!" she gasped. His large eyes were almond-shaped but entirely a glossy black. When the nictitating membrane flicked over them, there was a slight flash of blue from the protective layer. For him, the dim room was like high noon. He watched her lids droop, and her head slip back. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Bron sat beside the bed and watched her sleep. He was stunned by the new direction his life had taken. It hadn't sunk in until this moment. Hours ago, he'd been forced to murder and dispose of Genies at the whim of that human abomination Jorgus Landry, his master. Now he had a new human master who had him playing nursemaid to a young woman. While he accepted his future was just as uncertain on Walla, his interim conditions seemed so much better. He would do everything he could to ensure his new master was satisfied with his performance.

Angelina looked so innocent when she was asleep. Her long blond locks spread out over the pillow in a halo framing her face. Her lips were slightly parted, and her breathing was deep. Her well-endowed chest rose and fell evenly under the blanket. The movement was mesmerizing, and Bron began to feel uncomfortable once more with how he had his arm over her. He tried to gently pull it back without waking her, but the moment he began to lift it, her grip became tighter and her brows furrowed in irritation. She made a cute mewling sound, so he let his arm return to its resting place. Angelina's face relaxed once more. She pulled his arm upwards until it was resting just under her breasts. He could feel the heat from her body warming up his arm, and his face felt flushed as well.

Bron suddenly realized his new life was going to be a special kind of torture as well.

Over the next seven hours, he sat with Angelina and listened to her breathe. He allowed himself to doze when she was still, but the slightest movement or sound would wake him. Four times he became aware of her reliving the attack in her dreams, and each time he whispered to her, murmuring that he was there, the danger was gone, he'd killed them all, and they could never hurt her again. His voice and contact with his arm seemed to be enough to help her settle down. Each time the night terrors seemed to be less pronounced. Finally, she settled down to dreamless sleep, and Bron allowed himself to slip into a doze of his own again.

Sometime later, he awoke to feel her moving. She turned onto her side with her back to him while she continued to cling to his arm. As he couldn't reach any further over her, she tucked herself back against him. Bron came fully awake when he realized she had pulled his arm up against her chest... between her breasts! He felt her soft breath on his fingers, so his hand was near her face. He tried gently pulling his arm free, but she just gripped tighter. Something soft touched his fingertips, and a tingle went down his spine. He thought his discipline collar was giving him a warning jolt, except the sensation felt really, really good. He'd never experienced that before.

Angelina moaned in her sleep and rubbed her thighs together. She squeezed his arm tighter to her chest, and suddenly his fingertips were slipping between her lips, her tongue running over the smooth pads.

"Angelina!" he whispered hoarsely as shock waves ran through his nerves. He had to get her to wake up, but he didn't want to frighten her. He managed to extract most of his fingertips from her mouth, but she began to suck on his middle finger as she ground her thighs together.

Bron was seeing spots in front of his eyes, and tingles were running up and down his spine. "Angelina, please! Please wake up!" he gasped.

Suddenly the sucking stopped, and his finger slipped from her lips. She looked down, then looked sleepily over her shoulder. When she saw his face, she got a big smile and stretched like a cat.

"Good morning," she said. "I just had the hottest dream."

Bron pulled his arm back and felt a tremble run through his muscles. He'd never felt these sensations in his body before and didn't know what to do with them. Most disturbing was the tightness in his groin.

When he didn't respond, Angelina rolled over onto her stomach on the edge of the bed and reached out to touch his cheek to get his attention. "Hey! Are you all right?"

"I- I'm not sure. Something is happening to my body. It started when you were hugging my arm," he trembled some more, and the pressure in his groin increased.

Her smile grew sensual. "Mmm, yes, that was in my dream too. I was dreaming you were holding me, and I felt so safe in your arms. Then I was touching you, and you were touching me, and you felt so good..." she looked down between his legs and noticed for the first time that there was nothing there. "Hey! What happened to your-" She reached down and slid her hand down his stomach to his groin where his genitals should have been. Instead, she felt a bulge under the fine scales of his stomach and groin.

That was when his discipline collar actually activated.

Fire coursed through every nerve in his body, and all remnants of the pleasure he'd felt vanished. He felt his consciousness whiting out. The last thing he heard as his body flopped on the floor next to her bed was Angelina's voice yelling, "Papa!"

Chapter 4

Once more, Bron was surprised to wake up. He was lying under a blanket on the floor of Angelina's bedroom. He was alone. He tried to get up, but his muscles trembled in memory of the fire. He hadn't experienced that level of punishment before, always just slight warning buzzes. He didn't like it and wondered what he'd done wrong so he could avoid doing it again. After a short period of trying to get his muscles to respond, he was able to crawl to the door. He reached up to touch the opener, but it just buzzed. He was locked in. He crawled over to the wall opposite the door and sat with his back against it, his legs splayed out in front of him, and his arms flopped to either side. He was spent. His head tipped forward, and he passed out once more.

-=-

"Bron. Wake up."

The big Genie tipped his head up and blinked his nictitating membrane groggily. Standing a few feet away was Pietr, who wore a grim look on his face, and Angelina, who looked anxious, standing behind her father. When he looked at her, the anxiety slipped away, and she moved forward, but Pietr blocked her with one arm.

"How are you feeling?" he asked Bron without acknowledging his daughter.

Bron flexed his muscles, and outside of deep fatigue, he felt better. The burning sensation was gone.

"Better. I'm sorry for whatever I did. Please tell me what it was so I won't do it again," he said apologetically.