About Royal Treatment, A BBA Ménage story
by Cecilia Tan
69 pages / 30000 words
ISBN: -1-60370-894-4, 1-60370-894-4
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc, epub, and Sony Reader pdf
Arshan is a young noble on a world where dominance and submission are
a way of life. In his travels he has taken full advantage of the carnal
pleasures on offer, sowing wild oats across several planets and learning
the joys of bondage and discipline from both sides of the whip in
preparation for someday becoming a full-time master. He is summoned
home, though, to join a group of candidates being convened so that the
crown princess may choose a consort and a slave.
Arshan is not destined for slavery, not even at the feet of the future
queen, and finds himself trapped in a world of castle intrigue and
sexual competition for dominance. He is fresh meat, and everyone wants a
piece of him. Can he find a way to survive without surrendering, to
submit without being collared for life?
C.C. Bridges, author of
Cat's Walk and other Menage titles, writes: Arshan's life changes forever
when the royal envoy shows up on his father's orbital station and demands
Arshan's presence as part of Princess Trella's inner circle. This is no
ordinary royal court. The Kylarans are an alien race made up of natural subs
and doms in a society built around slavery, both willing and unwilling.
Arshan must navigate this erotic labyrinth with only his wits and his
internal strength to rely on. He might be a pawn in a much larger game, one
set in motion by his own father years before, but Arshan is determined not
to break. In this sci-fi universe with a BDSM twist, Arshan is a dom forced
into the role of a sub. He can survive much, but Arshan can't change who he
is at his very core.
In "Royal Treatment" Cecilia Tan has created an intriguing universe where
power plays and politics are settled in the playroom. There is much to
fascinate here -- the notion of a paired dom and sub set of gods for one.
However Tan's "Royal Treatment" is firmly on the darker side of sexuality.
For those who love reading about play that is never safe nor sane this piece
is just about perfect, but don't look for romance here, as Arshan becomes
the plaything of many women throughout his journey.
Sample
"Are you familiar with the tale of Zal's Ladder?" Siksie asked as she
explained the rules to us. "As of this moment you are not even on the bottom
rung, yet. How you perform during your time in the castle will determine the
hierarchy within your little group and whether you rise in station above
others outside of your group, as well." Her eyes flicked to me. "Trella will
be training you, and one of you will bond to her as slave and royal
consort."
I could sense the unease in the glances going around the table. "I know,"
she continued. "You've all been raised to be masterful and dominant, your
whole privileged, noble lives. You barely remember what it was like to be
subservient."
Her rod came down on the table with a startling crack. "Well, you'll
remember soon enough."
With that, she strode out of the room, leaving us talking amongst ourselves.
Some of the others had known each other from society, others had just met
tonight. Would friendships survive the climbing of the ladder? As the newest
of the group, I had the feeling that the odds were stacked against me.
"What does it mean that we're lower than the house slaves?" the red-haired
woman on my right asked. Her name was Miera and she was the daughter of a
high-ranking official. She was also the one person there I thought might be
my age or older, and I liked her voice and her smile. "They don't really
expect us to grant them favors, do they?"
"Yes, we do." A dark-haired, dark-eyed woman who had been stoking the fire
spoke. She put aside the poker and came to stand in front of us. Her voice
quavered a tiny bit as she said "Her ex-excellence, the Princess T-Trella
expects the members of her house, slaves and all, to abide by these rules."
The other man in the group, Jelan, spoke next. "So, it is an exercise in
discipline, not dominance, am I right? You might be the mousiest, most timid
creature on solid ground, but the fact that you are empowered by Her Word
means we must submit?"
The slave nodded yes, a curt nod and then, again, glanced at me before
looking away. It was a noble's nod, and we all smiled at the slave trying to
act in a way she never had before.
I stood, and Miera looked up at me in surprise--the surprise widening her
eyes still further as I executed a perfect obeisance on my knees in front of
the young woman. "May I please you?" I said, ritual words I had not spoken
in earnest in many years, only in play. Well, and perhaps to me this was
play, too. I had never been one to pass up an opportunity to engage
sensually with anyone... and I had a hunch that it wasn't strict obedience
that would lift us from one rung of the ladder to the next.
The young woman swallowed as if trying to decide what to do next. In this
position in the ritual I was hers to do with as she pleased. She could take
the poker out of the fire and singe my balls with it if she wanted to. But
it wasn't hard to read those glances in her eyes where desire had been writ
large.
"May I please you?' I said again, more softly. I had a sudden rush of
feeling then, as if my own vulnerability suddenly sank in. The sacrificial
nature of that position, my palms up on my knees, my eyes up, nothing
hidden, sank in. What would she do to me? But then she nodded and motioned
me forward with a tiny crooking of her finger. I moved, walking on my knees
on the ancient flagstones, and I heard the others chuckle behind me.
"Pretty good for a half-breed outworlder." I heard someone say. "You'd think
he'd been trained as a slave."
"He has," one of the others half-whispered. "His father believes in the old
ways, I hear." More chuckles from the others. By abasing myself this way,
they were certain I was now on the bottom rung. "Looks like one of us might
actually want to be slave consort," said the first voice again, and the
others laughed--nervously.
So, none of them wanted the position any more than I did. Had I doomed
myself by being the first to kneel? I had reached my target and placed a
tender kiss on the mound of the woman standing over me. The cloth of her
apron tickled my face as I did it, which made me smile. She smiled back a
coy, girlish smile. "Have you ever been pleasured by a noble superior?" I
asked her.
"Oh, uh… most certainly…" she answered, no doubt trying to decide if some of
the attentions other nobles had visited on her could count as pleasure the
way this would.
I took her hand then, and put one of her fingers into my mouth, my eyes
still searching hers. Her hands were soft, petal soft and cool, and my
tongue swirled around her fingertip as if it were a different part of her
anatomy. She flushed as if she could tell what I was thinking.