“I do have nice shoulders,” I agree, glancing over at my arm which is currently in the med-bay machine. Bethiah hacked it with a program that is making decorations on my skin. She says the tattoos—along with the hair cut—will help emphasize that I’m a different qura’aki than I am. I’m told the tattoos will only last a few weeks, but I might keep them. I do think they’re pretty. It’s like my skin is dressing up, too. I admire my other arm, already covered in swirling, colorful lines. “Maybe we should change more stuff to get further into costume. Should I pierce something?”
“No piercings,” Mathiras says, coming into med-bay. “She’s not a doll.”
I turn my head as much as I can, beaming at my mate. My arm is still trapped in the med-bay being colored on, so I’m stuck in place. “Look, Matty! Isn’t this pretty?”
He glares at Dora and Bethiah, who discreetly slide out of the room, and then sits down next to me. “You’re lovely, Helen. You always are. But I just want to remind you that this is your body. You don’t have to cut your hair or get your skin tattooed or anything else if you don’t want to. I don’t care if someone else thinks it’s a good idea. You have to want to do it. Understand? Your body is yours.”
I tilt my head back and close my eyes, waiting for him to kiss me. “I know. But I like the changes. They’re fun. What do you think?”
“I think you’re incredible no matter what length your hair is.” He brushes his fingers through my new bob. “But this is pretty, too.” And then he kisses me, his mouth hard and possessive over mine. I moan against his lips, loving just how intense the kiss is. He’s worried about me going to the other ship, I can tell. Concern is practically hovering in the air around him. But I’ll be fine. No one wants me dead, after all.
Matty keeps me company, kissing me and talking as my other arm tattoo finishes up. Then we head back to my room and pick out something for me to wear that says “cum-slut.” In the end, we pull a filmy, yellow over-layer off of one of my gowns and knot it between my breasts. It’s completely see-through and I decide that my shoulders really do look nice in this. I pair it with a delicate set of slippers to cover my feet.
“I hate this dress,” Mathiras tells me as we step out of our room. “I’d like it if you were wearing it for me, but since you’re not, I hate it.”
I giggle. “I have to show that I’m harmless. What better way than to show everything?”
“Still hate it,” Matty grumbles as he escorts me back to the bridge, where the others are waiting.
Both Zebah and Bethiah give me admiring glances, so I know I look nice. Adiron won’t look at me at all. He deliberately averts his gaze, discomfort on his face. “I won’t be able to look my mate in the eye if I tell her I stared at Helen’s tits,” he says to his brother. “Are you sure I have to do this?”
“I don’t like it either,” Mathiras says, his expression grim. He gives me another possessive look. “But it’s the only plan we’ve got at the moment.”
Adi makes a pained sound. “Okay, fine. Fine.” He shudders and then throws his shoulders back, staring straight ahead at the blank comm screen. “Let’s get this done. Everyone off the bridge but me and Helen. Helen,” he says, still not looking over at me. “Look helpless and cute.”
I wiggle in place, excited. I love that I get to save the day. I’m going to go over to the other ship and beat up on bad guys and save humans. This is so thrilling. I smooth my clothing, ready to play my part.
“Wait, I just thought of something,” Bethiah says as the others file off the bridge. She holds a collar out to me. “You’re going to be a slave, right? This will look like it’s activated but it’s not. Put it on.”
Ooh, smart. I clasp it around my neck and adjust it. I’m not a fan of collars, but she’s right, I do need to look like I’m a slave and not a badass.
Once the others are off the bridge, Adiron rubs his face. “Okay, okay, let me get into the part.” He scrubs his hands over his brow and then down his cheeks, gives one more shudder, and then straightens. His expression has changed from the laughing, playful brother to something far more grim, and in this moment, he looks a lot like Matty. It’s fascinating. He moves to the captain’s chair and sits down, sprawling his legs out in an arrogant fashion. I immediately move to his side, leaning over the arm of his chair and looking like a pampered plaything as Adiron sends out the hailing request to the other ship.