Pleasure Planet Read online

  PLEASURE PLANET

  An Ellora’s Cave Publication, May 2005

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

  1337 Commerce Drive, #13

  Stow, OH 44224

  ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0123-0

  Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):

  Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML

  EROS Copyright © 2005 CLAIRE THOMPSON

  TRISTAN’S WOMAN Copyright © 2005 BEVERLY HAVLIR

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Edited by Mary Moran and Heather Osborn.

  Cover art by Syneca.

  Warning:

  The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. Pleasure Planet has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme).

  S- ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

  E- rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as

  “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature.

  X- treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

  PLEASURE PLANET

  Eros

  by Claire Thompson

  Tristan’s Woman

  by Beverly Havlir

  EROS

  Claire Thompson

  Eros

  Chapter One

  Aria looked around with curiosity. She’d been on the waiting list for this trip for three New Earth months and she supposed that must mean this was the place to be. She flicked her scarf over her shoulder, consciously tossing her head to make her silver hair shimmer and glow in the moonlight or whatever light it was they were using to create this ambiance.

  She liked her new curls—they were real silver, not that cheap imitation coloring most New Earthians had to use. Aria had connections. She was not only heiress to the Moon Flights fortune but had made her own wealth with her innovative designs in space travel suitcases for the traveler on the go. The patented shrinkware reduced bulky cases to the size of a slim makeup bag with the touch of the shrinkwand. It was programmed via retinal scan for security and made it possible to pack a decent number of outfits—for Aria this meant at least two changes of clothing a day—for whatever trip you made, no matter how backward the spaceship or planetary accommodations of your destination.

  Aria had expected to disembark at a typical spaceport, bustling with porters and various species collecting their baggage and hurrying for taxis. But when her autoship had docked and the door slid soundlessly open, she found herself on some kind of beach! She stepped hesitantly down the ship’s walkway, wondering briefly if her coordinates had been faulty. She checked her pocket locator but it indicated that she was in fact on the continent of Eros, on this planet of pleasure. The atmosphere was clearly suitable for humans and she took a deep breath of slightly salty air. As she stepped onto the ground, the sand was smooth and white, cool to the touch. The sound of the waves crashing in the distance reminded her of Galana, her home city on New Earth. In fact, this could be Galana. It even smelled right. Though she had traveled extensively throughout this and neighboring galaxies, Aria was had never entirely gotten used to the alien smell of other planets. Of course, it was rude to comment and eventually one got used to it.

  This homey scent was a pleasant surprise indeed! As she looked toward the little village in the distance, she was disconcerted to see the old temple, its gold-leafed dome gleaming in the moonlight. Again, she glanced at her pocket locator. Had her ship been mis-programmed? Was she in fact back on her home planet?

  Then it dawned on her! This was Eros, famous even on this planet of dreams as a premiere continent for personalized pleasure. When she’d completed the questionnaire and allowed the brain scan, of course they’d been able to design her perfect fantasy, right down to the scent of her planet and her favorite place in the entire galaxy, her hometown.

  5

  Claire Thompson

  Unlike most of the hedonistic spas where the men—human men in her case, though of course it varied by species and preference—were lined up like licorice whips in a candy store, here on Eros you were assigned an “ideal mate”—someone pulled right out of your dreams.

  She’d been subjected to a complete physical examination, to assure that she could

  “withstand” the excitement promised in the sales literature. Of course, she received the birth control inoculations, though she wondered a bit at this, since as far as she knew, different species couldn’t procreate. She’d been forced to attend the requisite seminars, detailing the risks of such an involvement and she’d had to sign the palmwriter waivers absolving the planet of any responsibility for a broken heart. This had excited Aria as was probably the intention. It must be a really authentic experience if they felt the need for so many warnings and disclaimers. However, unlike the real thing, once the week was up, it was so long and farewell. This suited Aria perfectly since she had no intention of falling in love for many years to come. At thirtytwo, she was only a little over one-fifth through her expected life span so what was the rush?

  Aria was distracted from her thoughts by the lovely sound of a flute wafting along the warm night breeze. She followed the sound, knowing somehow that it was meant for her. The sand was cool and inviting and she slipped off her sandals, carrying them in one hand as she drew closer to the sweet notes of what sounded like a Galanian love chant.

  A small house came into view, cut from pale blue stone. A curl of smoke rose from a little chimney that poked through the red tiled roof. How charming! A fireplace. That delightful old-fashioned way of providing heat. Aria had always been enchanted by fireplaces and had them built into several of her homes. She had even learned how to make a fire, using carbon composite rods that looked like the logs in the ancient texts. Logs, she knew, came from those plants called “trees” that had once existed in abundance on Old Earth. Most of her friends had thought her quaint but then she was never one to march to others’ drums.

  Aria approached the little house and stood at the door, wondering if she should knock or just walk right in. Finally, she lifted the little gold knocker and let it fall against the door. The music stopped and after a moment, the door opened. Aria drew in her breath, her eyes widening in surprise. It was Doran! Her very first lover, from Eshelon. New Earth’s sister planet. They had met at university, and she had fallen head over heels for the boy with the intensity that only first love can bring. When he’d graduated and signed on to a science vessel that was making a five-year journey to another galaxy, Aria had been devastated. He’d chosen his career over her. In what would become a pattern for her, Aria turned her back on him, hardening her heart and closing her mind. She deleted the letters he sent her, without even opening the files.

  6

  Eros

  She didn’t need a man, she tol
d herself and anyone who would listen. She was Aria Loran, an independent woman of the twenty-fourth century! But now, faced with Doran in the flesh, she felt faint and disoriented. It was Doran, wasn’t it? Yet he still looked as young as the day they’d parted. The golden hair, luminous and shining in the soft light. The large eyes, thin patrician nose and lips. This man wasn’t dressed as Doran used to, in the silver unisuits that were so popular at school, sported by men and women alike. No, this fellow was dressed in some soft shimmery fabric that seemed to change color as he moved. The shirt was tailored like the ancient pirates of old, with the full sleeves and open collar, revealing a manly, broad chest tanned to a golden bronze. Instead of Doran’s large blue eyes, she saw that this man’s irises were golden—the telltale mark of the Erosian species.

  “Welcome, Aria. I am your guide for this week of pleasure. You may call me Ronan or Doran, if you wish.” After all this time, even though she rarely thought of Doran at all, the Erosians had created what they must have believed was her “perfect man”. She smiled, taking the man’s offered hand and said, “I’d rather call you Ronan, thank you.”

  Ronan led her through the rustic living room, which held several overstuffed sofas and brightly woven throw rugs covering a smooth stone floor. She saw that one wall was entirely transparent, revealing a tumultuous sea under the dark Erosian sky. Leading her to a smaller enclosed alcove, Ronan gestured to a round dining table, which was set for two. As Aria sat, he poured a dark red drink into the two waiting goblets. “A local wine I think you’ll find pleasant,” he remarked, raising his glass in a toast to the young woman.

  Smiling, she took a sip of the offered drink. It was delicious, but made her realize she was ravenously hungry. As if reading her mind Ronan brought a tray from the counter and set several of Aria’s favorite foods in front of her, including the New Earth peaches and raspberries she loved and a variety of Andromeda cheeses and caviars. The freshly baked bread smelled wonderful. She broke off a small piece, spreading some of the soft pungent cheese across a still-warm slice.

  “This is delicious,” she enthused, smiling at Ronan. So far, so good. Fabulous food in a beautiful but casual setting with a gorgeous man, though she wished he wasn’t quite so precise a copy of Doran.

  She glanced out at the ocean view as she took another drink of her wine. When she turned back to her host, it appeared that her wish had been his command. She saw that his features had changed. Not so much so that he wasn’t recognizable, but the nose was longer and wider, the lips fuller, the hair darkened to a light brown, now only highlighted with gold. This slightly altered version simply reminded her of the old Doran but was no longer his carbon copy. She found this new model was actually more pleasing to the mature eye. Less obviously “perfect” and more manly as a result.

  “Wow!” she exclaimed, impressed. “You guys really do aim to please!”

  7

  Claire Thompson

  Ronan bowed slightly. “My apologies on the first image, my lady. Your brain scan indicated that it would be ideal, but sometimes there are inaccuracies.”

  “Well, you’re perfect now, Ronan. Don’t change a thing.”

  “I shan’t, at least not at your direction.” As Aria cocked an eyebrow quizzically, he added, “Your week has now officially begun. You are no longer a paying visitor at a luxury spa. You are my sexual prisoner. My love slave, and I shall do exactly as I please, with or without your consent.”

  “What!” Aria’s eyes flashed. What was this impertinent servant talking about! She was Aria Loran, one of the richest women in the galaxy! No one talked to her in that tone! No one gave her orders! Sex slave? Was the man mad! She’d call the manager!

  She’d demand a refund!

  “Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Ronan said quietly, a smile on his lips. She recognized the ancient Bard’s quote, and realized with annoyance the man was reading her mind. She had known that Erosians were telepathic but hadn’t given the matter much thought until now. Was nothing to be private here?

  “Nothing,” Ronan replied, smiling. “In fact, you belong to me, Aria. Completely. We are alone here. There is no manager or other ‘superior’ to whom you can appeal. My word is law—at least for this week—we are committed to one another. Your communication devices are inoperative here. You are completely at my mercy. I am physically much stronger than you are and this is my domain. You may as well accept it.”

  Aria stared at him, her eyes wide. A terrible mistake? A kidnapping for ransom?

  Was he going to kill her? Where was her dream lover, the one she’d paid so handsomely for? Ronan stood and walked over to Aria. He knelt next to her and wrapped his strong arms around her. Pulling her face gently down, he kissed her lips—

  a long, lingering kiss that left her breathless.

  She felt heat between her legs. This man’s love slave! His prisoner. She blushed now, realizing what had happened. The brain scan had revealed what Aria had never told a soul. What she had barely admitted to herself. Her most secret fantasy of all—to be taken prisoner by a gorgeous man and held under his control as he had his way with her!

  She had never admitted to this fantasy because it didn’t match her own self-image of a strong and independent woman. Men and women were complete equals in society now, though it had taken thousands of years to finally achieve. Not only was she equal to a man in every way, she was vastly superior to most in terms of wealth and power. Every man she’d dated since Doran had respected her power and authority. On the surface, this suited Aria but in a secret part of her soul, she longed to be controlled. To be “taken” by a strong man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to demand it.

  Her conscious sexual fantasies were more traditional for a woman of her stature and times. Here on this “pleasure planet” as it was nicknamed, she had thought she 8

  Eros

  would be provided with lots of attention and adoration, and perhaps multiple partners, both men and women, over the course of the week. She had imagined one long orgy of self-indulgence and pleasure.

  But now, faced with this swashbuckling fellow in his silk pirate shirt and the rakish gleam in his eye, she realized she was to have a very different week indeed! They’d delved further into her psyche than perhaps she cared for, and now it seemed she would have no say in the matter!

  Ronan stood and held out his hand, a clear command for her to stand and accept it. She did so, annoyed that her fingers trembled slightly. This was just a fantasy, a game!

  He was going to be her captor, her love jailer, and subject her to all sorts of glorious sexual games. Well, that sounded wonderful! It was just a game, after all. As Aria followed him into the living room, she smiled at the sight of the fire that was crackling in the grate.

  She was distracted from taking in the comfortable furniture and the wide bay windows that let in the starlight into the room, by his command. “Strip.”

  Aria stared up at the man, certain she had misheard. There was time, surely, and in the bedroom! He interrupted her thoughts, “I said, strip!” His tone was sharp, brooking no disobedience. Aria started to protest and Ronan, taking the edge of her scarf, pulled it from her. Then his large hands found the hidden zippers on the sides of her gown and pulled them down so that the dress flapped open, revealing the naked body beneath it.

  Horrified, Aria grabbed at her dress, trying to cover herself. This was too much!

  Calmly Ronan said, “Stop with the performance, Aria. It’s only you and me now. There’s no one to put on the ‘powerful woman affronted’ show for. I gave you a simple command. You failed to obey it. Next time, you’ll get a spanking for that. This time, I’m letting it slide.”

  Forcing her arms high over her head with one hand, Ronan lifted the flimsy garment up and off the dumbfounded woman. Aria stood naked, her long silver hair curling down her back, gleaming softly in the firelight. Her round, firm breasts were tipped with dark pink nipples that were poking to attention as Ronan gazed at his
captive.

  Dropping her wrists, Ronan stepped back. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, and it sounded heartfelt. “Don’t fight me, darling girl. Surrender. This is your dream. Revel in it.” Aria covered her body protectively, in the classic pose with one hand over her silver pubic mound and the other trying ineffectually to hide her breasts. She was trembling, trying to catch her breath. Ronan pulled her to him, locking her in his embrace. He whispered in her ear, “Aria. Aria. Calm yourself. You’re shivering. All you need to do is relax and to obey me. I won’t demand anything of you that you don’t already want—don’t already crave. Sometimes our fantasies aren’t clear, even to ourselves. I’ll help you to unlock them. You can trust me, my love. I exist solely for you.”

  9

  Claire Thompson

  Slowly her heart stopped its insistent hammering against her ribs. Her breathing eased as the strong man held her in his arms. She leaned her head against his shoulder and realized he smelled nice. Not like Doran, but with his own scent, something warm and spicy, almost like cloves, but lighter.

  That’s right, she reminded herself, he exists solely for me! This was her week! She’d paid an extraordinary sum for the peculiar adventure now facing her. The reputation of the place was stellar. The Erosians must know what they were doing. This man wasn’t her kidnapper, he was really her sex slave as it was her money that had purchased this lark. He could pretend to be her lord and master all he liked. She knew the real situation.

  And if damsel in distress was the fantasy they were going to play, well, why not? It would be fun! Ronan’s hands, which had been gripping her bare shoulders, dropped now to her ass. He cupped the round globes and squeezed.

  “Think what you like, Aria. It may only be a week but it’s going to be much more than a game, I assure you. Yes, you bought the time and the experience, but you cannot just turn it off at your whim. Now you have to play by the rules—my rules.