What inspired you to write this story?
I saw a status update on Facebook where an author had shared her way of creating Sci-Fi names. It really set my mind off, so I wrote Forever a Slave the next day. It was one of those books that just spilled onto the page.
Do you have any other Sci-Fi books available?
Yes, I have one called E2 in anthology called Brit Boys: On Boys, which is available now. I don’t go too much into technical stuff in my Sci-Fi, because as a reader I find it clouds my head so I wanted to write Sci-Fi tales that are easy on the brain!
Do you have plans to write more Sci-Fi?
Now that I’ve written two and enjoyed them, I think I will write more. It’s great to have another world where anything can happen and, as a writer, I’m not stifled by what could really happen or worrying about whether it’s believable. I’m in charge of my planet/worlds, so whatever I say goes LOL.
What other new releases do you have?
I have a shifter book called Mane Attraction, which was written years ago. Sadly, the publisher closed, so for a few years the book has been sitting in a file. I decided to get it out and give it a polish, and it’s great to have this story back out in the world.
What do you have planned next?
I have no idea! Maybe a shifter series, I’m not too sure. Or more Sci-Fi. It’s addictive to write!
Ke’ja has been stolen from Earth and taken to the planet Mezdon. He’s a sex slave, living in a hovel while his master, Vor’trev, lives next door in a modern house. This is the way of Mezdon, where every master has a slave and sex is considered something that can be done anywhere, anytime. Thrown by this reality, Ke’ja has to adapt—or find a way to return to Earth. The problem is, he’s already falling for his master and is fighting his emotions. He wants to go home but at the same time doesn’t want to leave the man who lights him up inside.
Vor’trev is not only a master but a judge, a man who has the power to return slaves to Earth if he feels they’ve been abducted unfairly. He’s broken the law for his previous slaves and engineered it so that their return to Earth went unnoticed by other members of Mezdon authority. But Ke’ja… No, he can’t bring himself to set the slave free. He’s Vor’trev’s, the only slave that has touched his heart, the only man he’s wanted as a life partner. Letting him go isn’t an option.
Two men, both wanting each other but unable to get past what they have to do to be together. Which one of them will break first?
Ke-ja sat on the mossy cliff top, naked as the day he’d been born except for a silver-colored ankle tag, and stared at the so-called sunset. The feelings of loss inside him were strong this evening—bloody awful, really, that gut-wrenching spasm he kept getting—and he wished his world was a different place. Somewhere like it used to be—mainly London, England, full of diversity and freedom.
Here, on this Godforsaken planet, freedom was only a dream, something Earthlings no longer had the pleasure of. The planet, Mezdon, and the town of Gordah, was a nasty place, riddled with danger and fraught with terrified former Earth residents. Shit, how had he ever found himself here?
That was a damn easy question to answer, and one he didn’t even have to ask himself, yet he did. Too many times to count. Got him moving his attention elsewhere, away from the horrors that met his eyes every time he left his—what could he call it?—hovel and went into town.
Life was a weird bastard, he’d known that on Earth, but Christ, how much weirder was it now? Too bloody weird. He told himself every time he stared at the horizon—a blood orange mass of stripes that merged into one another, stretching up into this odd, fuzzy lime green—that he’d get back to Earth someday. Wasn’t likely, though. His ‘master’, a bloke who reckoned he owned Ke-ja and could do whatever he wanted with him, had said Earth wasn’t an option.
‘Once a body gets to Mezdon, there’s no going back unless a judge helps you out.’
His master was a judge. Funny how he wouldn’t help Ke’ja out. And the term ‘a body’—that said it all, didn’t it? Earthlings weren’t people anymore when on Mezdon, they were commodities, something to be used.
Even my name isn’t my own.
Master—Vor’trev as he was known to everyone else—had given him the name as soon as he’d been purchased.
Purchased. What kind of place allows that shit to go on?
A sick one, that was what.
“Fucking pissed off with this planet and everything on it.”
Ke-ja tried to swallow down a lump of emotion. Seemed it didn’t want to move, only wanted to get bigger, threatening to suffocate him. Might even be good if it did. At least he wouldn’t have to live here anymore. And he was a liar—he wasn’t sick of everything on Mezdon. Vor’trev didn’t piss him off. That was the kicker. If he did, things would be a damned sight easier.
“Get a grip.”
It wouldn’t do for him to get maudlin. He got threats of being punished for his behavior, albeit lesser chastisement than other slaves received. Even the slightest downturn of his mouth in public meant he’d have to get a slap or, worse, fucked until he couldn’t see straight. Yeah, fucked right out in the open for all to see. It didn’t help that Vor’trev was a good-looking sort, the kind of man Ke’ja didn’t mind being fucked by, the type he’d longed for on Earth but had never attracted.
Sod’s bloody law I got my wish when I don’t want it—in a place I don’t want it.
He shook his head. Had to get his mind back to the setting he’d taught himself to accept—the one where it appeared he was a ‘good boy’, ready to do whatever he was told. The thing was, he didn’t much like doing as he was told, but if it meant he was well treated while he figured out how to get onto the shuttle back to Earth, he’d act whatever way was expected so he didn’t arouse suspicion.
Who was he kidding? Suspicion had already been aroused. Vor’trev wasn’t stupid—he’d questioned Ke’ja many a time as to why he’d just accepted his fate. Said it wasn’t normal and nothing like he’d experienced in the past with other slaves he’d bought.
‘You’re pretending,’ he’d said.
Ke’ja hadn’t answered, instead holing himself up in his hovel and avoiding Vor’trev for as long as he could.
The soft swoosh of someone walking on the moss caught Ke’ja’s attention. Had to be Vor’trev, coming out to see what he was up to. Checking up on him. He’d probably gone to the hovel and found it empty. And there was no chance of Ke’ja going off somewhere without being discovered. His ankle tag saw to that. Logged his every move.
Need to find a way of getting that off too.
“Brawny bastard, you,” Vor’trev said behind him.
Ke’ja didn’t jump or shudder, not like he had when he’d first come here. He was used to being crept up on. Used to having his privacy violated. He closed his eyes, wishing that voice didn’t wash over him the way it did, all deep, soft tones with a hint of sexiness. Just his luck to be bought by someone Ke’ja fancied.
“Naked suits you,” Vor’trev said. “Clothes—especially the ones you turned up in—aren’t for you. Made to be shown off, you are.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not used to parading round with nothing on, so forgive me if I don’t agree with you.”
Ke’ja opened his eyes and waited for a slap, or for Vor’trev to grip him by the upper arms and haul him standing so he could give him a bollocking. Neither happened. It shouldn’t have surprised him. Vor’trev had become softer as the months had gone on.
“Yes, I’ll forgive you,” Vor’trev said. “Although you should be punished for what you said. Can’t seem to bring myself to do it much these days, even in public.”
That was true. When in Vor’trev’s home, or in the hovel, Vor’trev rarely lashed out. He fucked him, though—yeah, he did that all right—but punishment in other forms was getting rarer by the day.
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