The Stolen Heartstone Ch. 01

This story involves non-consensual sexual acts. Characters are over 18.

*

Ellinda let her hand rest on the shop's door ringer a moment longer than she normally would, then pushed it and waited for the lock to click open. Another reluctant moment passed and she turned the handle to enter. The marble floors and plush leather chairs inside weren't what she expected, but then she hadn't really known what to expect. Ladies whose great grandparents had settled this planet didn't come to places like this, but somehow for the last week, she hadn't been able to shake the idea. So at last she'd had her driver drop her in the shopping district five kilometers away on pretenses of checking the flowers for her wedding next month.

The man behind the reception desk looked up. In another life, or at least in another place, she might have found him attractive with his perfectly chiseled cheekbones, blue eyes, and nicely toned shoulders, but here she couldn't imagine anything being attractive. "Good afternoon, Lady. Do come in, and welcome to Galaxy. We cater to all tastes. I'm Delron. How can I help you?"

Confidence was key, no matter the situation, and she forced it into her voice. "I am not in search of your services."

"Ah. I do apologize, Lady, but if it is your husband or fiancé you are inquiring about, you must understand that we keep our client list in the strictest of confidences. I'm sure you understand."

She understood. He didn't. She didn't want to explain it, either. Nevertheless, confidence. She couldn't stand here in the doorway like a dithering schoolgirl, so she strode toward the desk.

Pain seared through her chest. She clutched at her breast as she stumbled back, falling into a chair and gasping for breath.

The man was on his feet and by her side in an instant. "Are you well? What happened?" He yanked a pillow from the next chair and adjusted it under her neck as she collapsed into it. "I'll call a doctor. Just relax."

The pain was gone as suddenly as it had come. She panted, tugging the high necked blue blouse away from her neck. She'd chosen her loosest, most non-revealing blouse and a floor-length skirt for this trip, but they still hugged her body closely. "I'm fine. No need for a doctor. I don't know what happened. I've never felt anything like that before."

"Are you sure? We have doctors whose discretion matches our own."

She shook her head, her breath slowing. "No, thank you. Perhaps a glass of water?"

"Of course." The man hurried away, returning a moment later with a wine glass repurposed for water and handed it to her, watching with the eyes of a hawk.

She collected herself as she sipped, focusing on the confidence again. "Forgive me for that. I hadn't expected to make quite such an entrance."

He took her cue and smiled. "I am glad you are fine, Lady. As I was saying, though, I'm afraid we can't..."

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "No, no, my fiance doesn't come here. Of that I am certain."

"Ah, no, of course he doesn't. I didn't mean to assume." His expression was carefully neutral. He wasn't convinced, but had the decency to be polite. "How may I help you, then?"

She'd repeated the words that she was considering signing a work contract to herself dozens of times. But now that the moment was on her, she couldn't force them out. Instead, she spoke the lie she'd concocted when she'd first thought of coming here. "I am here on behalf of the Society for the Rights of Service Workers. I would like to tour your facilities."

The man blinked. He'd clearly never heard of any such society. Of course, she hadn't, either. Nevertheless, he held out a hand to steady her as she stood. She took it and rose, releasing it a tad reluctantly. In another life, indeed. "Of course, I'd be happy to show you around," he went on. You'll find our facilities are designed for the utmost comfort of our clients." He gestured towards the interior door and she followed. Comfort of our clients, he'd said.

The pain struck her again. This time, she doubled forward, clutching him as she lurched. He caught her by the arms and supported her as she stepped back to the closest chair, struggling to breathe. Again, the pain ceased as suddenly as the last time. She felt more than saw him standing over her, looking down, the concern still resonating in his voice. "Are you certain you don't want me to call a doctor?"

She was less sure this time, but shook her head anyway. Discretion or no, she couldn't let anyone see her here. "Just give me another minute, but maybe I should go. I can come back another time."

"Of course, Lady. We open every day at 3:00 pm, and we would be glad..." He stopped and a smile spread across his face slowly, broadened upward in a look that made her cringe when he added, "Unless... Just a moment. I think I just might have the answer here."

As she concentrated on breathing, he returned to the desk, opening one drawer and then another. "Yes, I think I might have something of interest to you." Had his tone hardened as well? He opened a third drawer. "Ah, yes. Here it is."

He set what looked like a fist-sized oblong orange-red gemstone on the desk. Glass, perhaps, but the light glinted in a way that glass didn't. "This was left here a week ago, oddly without an owner. Perhaps it's yours?"

She didn't know what it was, was sure she'd never seen it before, but yes, yes it was hers. She knew it, felt its warmth. She started to stand when he cut her off. "Don't come any closer. Not unless you want another attack. Can't you see how it glows? Have you ever heard of a heartstone?"

Heartstone? She had heard of them vaguely. They could be used to control, or kill, the owner. They were only made by the most desperate of debtors, or as an alternative to death for those convicted of a crime. Heartstones were very illegal to make without the owner's signed consent, and she most assuredly hadn't given it.

"Good. I see you do know what it is." He tossed it in the air, catching it as he whistled appreciatively. His eyes ran down her body with a hungry look and she shrunk into the chair. "Well, isn't this an interesting twist. If I'd known it belonged to a body like that, I'd have summoned you earlier. And you're a noble no less. Oh, this will be fun."

She wouldn't let the confusion show and raised her voice a command. "I have no idea how such a thing came to be in your possession, but I thank you for assuring it was returned. I'll see that you're properly rewarded for your efforts."

"Now why would I do a silly thing like return it?" His gaze lingered on her chest as he picked up the stone, cupping it one hand and caressing it with the other, slowly, running his fingers in circles around the end.

Keep control of the situation. "You will give it to me at once."

He kept on caressing in some lewd parody of fondling her breast. "And exactly how do you think I'd do that, girl, when you can't get within five meters of it without your heart stopping?"

"I'll send my driver."

He laughed. "You'll send your driver here, will you? That's a conversation I'd like to see. But no, I have some paperwork you need to sign. Why don't we start with that?"

She breathed carefully, not willing to let him see her relief. "Yes, yes, of course. Whatever paperwork you need. I said I'd reward you."

He gave the stone a long last stroke as he set it on the desk, pulling out a set of papers and handing them to her. "I made these up as soon as I found the stone in case it belonged to someone I wanted. You're welcome to look them over, but you're going to sign either way."

It was a contract. The name was blank, but the rest had already been signed and stamped by an official, government-approved witness. She'd seen plenty of stamps on her father's contracts. Even her marriage contract had been properly witnessed and stamped. If this was a forgery, it was a good one.

"Are you mad?" She heard herself say, even though she knew the truth of his statement. "I'm not about to sign."

He shook his head. "You must be the fool. You do know how heartstones work, don't you?"

She didn't. Not really. But ignorance was weakness. "Of course," she snapped.

He must have seen the uncertainty in her face because he explained anyway. "The first time one is used, it's raw. It can take days, sometimes weeks for the effect to kick in. After the first time, though, it attunes gradually every time it's used. You'll obey faster next time. Faster the time after that. Eventually it'll be immediate. After that, it tears down your will. You start to be want to obey. Eventually you can't even think of anything but needing someone to tell you what to do."

She hadn't heard them described quite like that, but it matched the snippets of rumors she'd heard.

"It's already started to attune. You're here and you're not going to be able to tell anyone about this visit, or me, or the heartstone. So, do you want to sign on your own, or you want me make you? It might take a week or two before it works, but it will work. You're choice. I'm happy either way."

She held the pen poised, her eyes shifting to the words, then back to the desk. "How'd you have it made?"

He shook his head in bewilderment. "Oddest thing, that was. It was in a package outside my door. No note. No explanation. Just there. I almost threw it away. Figured the owner must be dead or something, but I finally decided I might as well give it a try. No harm in trying." He looked her over again. "But here you are, prettier than any of the girls I have now, and a noble on top of it. Can't think why anyone would have gone to so much trouble to make a heartstone just to give you up. I'm guessing it's someone who couldn't work out the paperwork and knew I could. Maybe I'll get an offer to buy you in the future."

Her voice rose. "My family would never let me be sold, even with that, that, thing."

"Your family?" He shook his head. "My dear girl, why on earth would I ever let your family know anything is amiss?"

She didn't know if she was relieved or more scared. At least she wouldn't have to face their horrified expressions when they learned the truth.

He changed the subject and she didn't have to think about it more.

"You mentioned a fiancé, so when is this joyous occasion?"

"One month."

"So soon? Well, congratulations." He paused, running a finger thoughtfully along the glowing stone. "We'll have to get your virginity sold off quickly. Wouldn't want an opportunity like that to go to waste, would we?"

He might have thrown the heartstone into her lap, his words hit so hard. "Sell my what? You can't."

"I can't what?" He laughed. "You think you get to decide anything anymore? I should have something set up in a week. An auction, maybe."

"But he'll know. I can't. My family. They'll..." She always hated stammering, hated herself for doing it now.

"Is there a reason he'd suspect you aren't a virgin?"

"Of course not!"

"Then you'll be fine, girl. Now, do you want to sign, or do we get to attune the stone more closely?"

She didn't move.

He waited for a minute, then tapped his foot, and finally raised the heartstone, cradling it with one hand as he covered it with the other other. "It's simple. I just have to hold it in both my hands, like this, and speak whatever command I want. It's pleasant, warm, even soft when it attunes. It almost feels like one of those breasts of yours. Not quite as nice, but it's still fun. It glows, too. You sure you want me to demonstrate?"

She recoiled, crossing her arms as if he'd actually undressed her.

Moments passed he took another slow stroke across the stone, ran two fingers underneath, fondling it. She could almost feel those hands caressing her, and she pulled her arms in tighter. At last he shrugged. "All right, heartstone it is." He raised it to his lips.

"I'll sign," she blurted.

"Good girl." He set it down and crossed the room far too quickly to hand her a pen, his eyes boring into hers with a leer she wouldn't have thought possible from the gentleman who'd first greeted her.

She clenched the pen, felt the cool of the metal against her fingers. This wasn't happening. Couldn't be happening to her. Heartstones were for other people, less fortunate people. People who didn't care about debasing themselves. She pretended to rub at her forehead, trying to dry the moisture at the corner of her eye. His foot tapped again and at last she clutched the pen and wrote her name. She'd have done it either way, and it was better not to let it attune more.

"There. That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" He reached for the contract and for a moment she debated shredding it, but it wouldn't accomplish anything. He'd just make another, and use the heartstone this time. She released it and stood to leave, not looking back at him.

She got as far as the door before he spoke. "Exactly where do you think you're going?"

"You have your heartstone, and your contract. I'm going home before I call my guard and have him rip this place apart."

He laughed, low and menacing. "Not until I've had a chance to test the goods. Turn around and come back here, girl."

She didn't turn around and she certainly didn't go back. Instead, she placed a hand on the doorknob. Surely it didn't lock from the inside as well.

"I said, turn around," he growled.

The door was, indeed, locked from inside as well. She froze, thinking of the most dignified way to break a window, when she felt his hand grip her shoulder. She tried to duck, but the well-toned shoulders she'd noted when she first entered translated into strength now, and she turned. It was better than him forcing her.

His eyes burned into her. "Now take off your blouse."

"I will not," she heard herself say before she realized she'd opened her mouth, but she heard the tremor in her voice, too.

He slammed her back against the door, and she yelped as the handle dug into her back. Her hand jerked to his wrist, yanking down just below the thumb and breaking his hold. The self-defense training her father had insisted on had paid off, at least for the briefest of moments.

The briefest of moments was all that was needed to stop him. He walked back to the desk, picked up the heartstone in both hands, raised it to his lips and snarled into it, "Next time I want to touch you, you'll let me."

It glowed, but she felt no more compulsion to comply than she had a moment before. How long had he said it would be before it took effect the second time?

"Now, you'll do as I order and show me what's mine, or I'll give a string of orders so long that tomorrow you'll beg to be my slave. You really want that?"

He took her silence as acquiescence and stalked back toward her. "Now, let me see that body you just signed over to me."

It was silly, she knew, but she couldn't help it. She turned her back to him before pulling her blouse over her head, slowly, holding it bunched in her right hand as if that somehow hid her. She crossed her arms as she had before, clutching her shoulders, when she felt his hands moving to unfasten her bra, pulling it down over her arms to dangle loosely with the blue turtleneck. "Now turn around." This time his voice was soft, almost gentle.

With slow half steps, she turned, arms still trying to cover herself, gaze focused on her feet. His hand cupped her chin and he gently tipped her head up. She let him, focusing on his chin, unable to look him in the eyes. Next, he reached for her arms, pulling them slowly to her sides. At first, she grasped her arms tighter, but he was far too strong, so rather than fight and lose, she let him. She'd always taken pride in her perfectly formed, full breasts. Now she wanted only to cover them.

"Arms behind you, elbows as close to touching as possible," he spoke with a quiet force, softer but commanding. She obeyed, realizing as she did that the posture arched her back, pushing her breasts out and up toward him. She'd never been one to cry, but she closed her eyes to hide from having to look at him. If she concentrated hard enough, maybe she could pretend it wasn't real.

"Eyes open," came his voice. "Look at your new master."

There was no point in resisting, but she couldn't open her eyes. Seeing him doing this was too much. She hid in the darkness like it was a blanket she could pull around her.

His finger crushed down against her nipple. Hard. Her eyes flew open and she gasped, jerking into the door again. His fingers stayed on her nipple, twisting it. "Next time I tell you to do something, you'll do it." He accentuated the anger with another vicious yank, then grabbed the other nipple, twisting it in the opposite direction. Her hands grabbed at his wrist uselessly as tears stung her eyes. Blinking, she tried to clear them, afraid to close them too long in case he thought she was disobeying.

As quickly as it had begun, the onslaught stopped and he cupped one breast in his hand. "Elbows back again," he commanded, voice under control again. She pushed her arms back as he stroked the soft flesh with his other hand, firm but gentle. A tingling sensation pulsed through her, enveloped her. Heat spread through her and she stood, unable to move as she grappled with the sudden sensation. "There we go, nice and quiet like a good girl," he whispered, leaning down and speaking into her ear. His hot breath crept down her neck and she shuddered, though from fear or from something else, she wasn't quite sure.

"See, there we go. You can even enjoy it if you just give in. Your skin is so soft and smooth. I know you're going to enjoy this as much as I will once you get over that pride of yours. We won't even need the heartstone, will we?"

It was hard to concentrate. He'd asked a question. She should answer, spit defiance back at him, but when she opened her mouth, a low moan escaped instead. For a moment, it startled her. She'd never made a sound like that, least of all in pleasure. She leaned forward ever so slightly, pressing into those hands just a bit harder. He breathed into her ear and cooed, "There we go, kitten. There's no reason to fight."

His words brought her back to reality. She had been fighting. Should be fighting. What was she doing? She yanked back and he let her, moving instead to cup the other breast, fondling the nipple softly. His hand on the untouched breast shot new rolls of pleasure through her and she let out another moan. Catching her breath, she focused and turned it into a growl of anger, or as close to anger as she could muster.

He laughed. "You're going to have to try harder than that to make me think you don't want this."

"I don't," she snarled, realizing how ragged her breathing had become. "I'll see that you're punished for this."

He let go of the breast with one hand, still caressing it with the other, and reached up behind her neck, stroking the soft brown curls that her fiancé was so fond of. His fingers moved in circles, lacing through the strands slowly. Suddenly he grabbed a handful and yanked her head back roughly. "Good," he growled into her ear. "It's so much more fun to break a girl when she fights."

Her neck was pulled tight as her head craned back and she couldn't speak, couldn't move. Her hands scraped the door for balance. He took a step back and bent, jerking her down. "On your knees, bitch."

She fell, trying to catch herself with her hands as her knees slammed into the marble. She cried out as she struggled to maintain her balance, stretching to keep her head where he held it, directly in front of his crotch. He wore the newly fashionable lace-up kind, a style she was glad hadn't reached the women's clothing. Shifting, she trying to find a more comfortable angle to kneel.

"Open them," he ordered, her nose just inches from the only thing he could be telling her to open, but she didn't quiet comprehend. Her voice failed and she couldn't look up at him with his hand holding her head so tightly. She didn't move as the fear fought confusion.