An Act, on Acteon?

"That's enough, Kyra." Luke pulled the sensuous **** from Rene's form, bound helplessly at the **** post. Kyra looked peeved, rubbing her mouth as Rene breathed deeply, unnerved by her brazen sexuality. Was this how all slaves on Acteon behaved?

Luke swatted Kyra on her butt, not hard but she squealed and skipped away, playing at being offended. She moved off with a purposeful look over her shoulder back at the masculine form of Luke and the petite form of the body he, Major Rene Narcisco occupied. It was clear she would take her pleasure with either of them or both, given the chance.

"Sorry about that, Major." Luke whispered as he loomed over Rene, pretending to check the ropes holding his wrists high above his head. "Kyra's a real piece of work. I'll try and keep her away from you but when we're all on the boat that's going to be... well, difficult." Luke ran his rough hands down Rene's body, causing Rene to jerk at his touch, tremors running though his nervous system like ice-fire. He moaned, open-mouthed, twisting in the ropes. What was Luke doing?

"She's watching us," Luke continued softly, "and she knows you're a Bendari bred ****. She expects me to do this, try and react like you're enjoying it, sir." Rene shuddered, eyes closed, pushing his body into Luke's caresses, moaning in the soft high voice this body possessed. "That's it, Major. Perfect." Rene knew it wasn't all an act, this flesh wanted a man's touch, wanted a man's power and domination. Rene Narcisco, Major, Confederation Navy Special Investigations Department, he reminded himself, I'm... he yelped, lifting onto his toes as Luke's hand pushed up into his crotch, heat and softness combined in an instant of unrequited lust, and then Luke's hand left his body. Rene blinked, breathing hard, unfulfilled and strangely disappointed.

A rough-looking man from the ship came up to them. "So this is the slut our lord is waiting for?" The man's gaze was calculating as he scanned Rene's new form from head to toe and back again. Rene noted the man had a short whip with many leaves on his belt, it looked like the sort of whip used to punish slaves, inflicting pain but causing no permanent damage. The man noticed Rene's gaze and put his hand on the whip.

"Are you that eager for a taste of my little friend here, girl?" he said in a darkly pleasant voice. Rene shuddered and looked down at the ground. He definitely didn't want to be whipped. This soft-skinned body, he was sure, would be in agony after a single stroke of the whip the man had at his belt and he looked like the sort who could use such an instrument with practiced skill.

"Now then, Gord," Luke raised a hand. "Until I deliver this Bendari and get paid the agreed price she's still my property, remember?" Gord nodded, his eyes still fixed on Rene.

"Aye." The man named Gord swung a sack off his shoulder and dropped it at Rene's feet with a metallic-sounding thump. "The master told me to take some precautions with this one though, make sure she arrives at his feet in good condition." He bent down and untied the sack before pulling out an odd-looking arrangement of polished metal straps and padlocks. Rene, raised in the Confederation's rather prudish society couldn't comprehend what it was intended for.

"A Bendari flower basket." The man held it up. "It'll fit her no problem, all Bendaris are small in the waist and wide enough in the hips so it'll keep her out of mischief." Hips? Waist? Bendari? Rene's mind raced, his body was the only Bendari **** around, was he the one that was supposed to wear that thing somehow? How would it fit him, those two half-circle straps might fit around his waist, impossibly narrow as it appeared, and then the other wide flat plate would go... he clenched he legs together as hard as he could, twisting away as he hung by his bound wrists from the **** post's ring as he realised the purpose of the 'flower basket' and how it would fit his current **** body.