Haevyn and Emotional Cost

 

Haevyn_smIn Quentopolis women have been relegated to secondary status in many cases. Women of the working class society, lead very difficult lives. The Elite are treated more as pampered dolls, cosseted and spoiled, to be seen but not heard, with some similarity to that experienced in the 19th century. Yet, as with any society, there are some who do not tow the line, who break from this suffocating sort of bondage.

There are women–some surviving by their wits and intelligence, some by courage and an adventurous spirit–these are women who strive to break free. Some, like Silver from the first book in this series, end up paying a high price, including human and personal freedom. For some, such as the courtesan madam, Violette Goldswan, they wield their power through different, more shadowy avenues. And some, like Haevyn Breina, will attempt to rise through the more public ranks, clawing their way to a position where they have a chance of gaining societal acceptance as an equal, and gaining respect in the more demanding arena of this male-dominated society. None of this is accomplished without emotional cost. None of these women face and accept the challenges of this rather brutal society in quite the same way. For Haevyn, the rewards are worth the steep price. She does not back down from doing what must be done.

In Quentopolis, sexual relations and sexuality are very open and accepted parts of this society. For some it is about pleasure, for some it is a tool to rise through the ranks. Sex is used for negotiation; it is also a shared bond between friends. And it is also an art form, highly prized by a nobility class known as the Dominatae.

Haevyn Breina is of the Moondown Water District working class. Her parents were killed in a factory fire, leaving the care of her younger brother, Bhrett, in her hands. Responsibility came to her at a young age and she accepted it, along with every hardship and payment that security demanded. She gave up her virginity to a higher purpose and though it left her bruised and battered, she has never regretted her choices. When a brand new arm of the Regulate opens up to females, she jumps at the chance, even though strictly speaking the Compsociate Branch is considered by many to be simply a finely labeled government sanctioned army of courtesans in service to the upper Regulate officers. Haevyn accepts the challenge determined to rise within the ranks, but it is not without additional damage to her psyche.

Her lover and friend, Grisha, has served as her anchor, her “calm, safe haven” throughout her life. A simple fisherman, he is far distanced from the machinations of the political arena. But Grisha, more wise than Haevyn realizes, knows there is more that his lovely, wounded lover needs than the warmth and healing of his loving embrace. He knows very well how close to the edge she really is. But so is his other lover, an expatriate Orictan warrior by the name of Entreus.

In any world an emotional cost must attach, though all creatures deal with trauma differently. Some will splinter, some will rise to meet the challenge of adversity and fashion it into their strength. Some bear an anger or rage–they try to ignore or funnel through some other channel. Entreus funnels his rage and frustration through the illegal Cockrage events. Haevyn tries to bury her anger beneath a veneer of tightly-held control. Grisha knows this about each of them and has a sense of their needs.

How these three people adapt, grow, and hopefully heal is at the emotional core of this story. The journey is complicated by a very dangerous and deadly enemy to the city-state whom they must battle.

This is the world of Humanotica. Read an excerpt from “Haevyn,” the second book in the Humanotica series…

Read an excerpt from Silver, the first book in the Humanotica series.

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Haevyn buy links:

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Silver buy links:

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Bone to Metal – an excerpt from Silver

Humanotica, Book 1

Silver, born female, is now an owned gender-mated trinex thanks to the edicts of the Politico Judicalati and time imprisoned at the Factorium. She must choose between her charismatic power-elite, secretive owner, Minister of Acquisitions & Antiquities, Lel Kesselbaum, and a seductive revolutionary, Entreus, a humanotic who tempts her with freedom.
Not all is as it seems–allies who may be traitors, lovers who are more than they appear. A power-mad government, a machine known as the Elite Logical Life Core that uses human intelligence for its knowledge source. The Factorium that acquires humans as research fodder for their experiments and then spits them out when they are of no further use. Sex used as a tool to unearth enemies and traitors, and intimately align allies. Love that is not simple, relationships that are dangerously complex. This is Silver’s highly-complex world.

One misstep in the fight for freedom could mean death for them all.

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Warning: Not for the faint of heart.

As one reviewer said about this story: …an intensely sexual read, with innovative obscenities and novel delights that never cease to amaze…

You’ve been warned…

 

 

EXCERPT

“This is the package from Dr. Starlinger?” he asks as he picks up the small parcel from the gleaming surface.

I cringe at the thought of what is inside, but I try to keep my expression impassive.

“Yes, Dominor.”

He studies it almost reverently and then carefully peels back the layers of white cotton. I want to twist away. My stomach roils at the sight of the innocuous-looking wooden box.

“Lovely,” he murmurs as he raises the lid and strokes a finger over the contents. He lifts the small, thick envelope holding the thin silver punch cards—the latest replication of my brain patterns. They’re a duplicate set to that which will be fed into the Core by the doctors. It is mandated by the Politico that all information, whether set to government gold or non-official silver or bronze, be assimilated into the community intelligence of the Core for processing. Not to do so is considered a traitorous act punishable either by Factorium confinement or death.

They appear to be such fragile things to hold the contents of my thoughts, my emotions, the very essence of my human energy. I know there will be more changes from the previous version. There always are; it is inevitable. Even though the doctors don’t tamper with my brain, what they do to my body impacts my mind, so the cards are always etched and studied after modification.

The minister walks to the closet and steps inside. There are secret places hidden within the walls of this estate. I’m not privy to most of those secured rooms, but I know they exist.

I know where he’s headed as he disappears inside the closet. Another hidden door leading to a secret vault. This room alone he’s shown me, when he placed my first memory cards into safekeeping within the vault.

It’s where he keeps these bits of prized possessions I always return with from the Factorium. These new items will be placed into the box inside the drawer marked with my human name, Elissa Longview. The woman I’d once been. More pieces of me to be separated and locked away. Inwardly, I rage with my impotence. But the anger seems less fierce than it used to be. I try to call upon the full flame of my anger. It worries me that I can no longer depend upon its empowering fury to remind me of my losses, to keep me strong.

Later, he will bring out the red velvet box, along with his personal Intellometer. He’ll attach the wires to himself and feed my thoughts into his own mind. He will watch me as he dissects the changes, assimilates them into his own thought processes. Compartmentalizes them in order to access them when he wishes. Sometimes he’ll echo my own words back to me to prove his control even of that part of me he allows to remain mechanically unaltered. When he does that, I feel utterly vulnerable and powerless. Which, of course, is what he wants.

I, who had once dreamed of becoming an engineer and working in the mysterious Factorium, am now simply a product of it. High aspirations for one so lowly born, and an orphan, at that. But I’d almost made it. I would have, if not for my attraction to Minister Kesselbaum—and for his to the young man I’d pretended to be.

I had learned over the last many months to suppress my human thoughts as much as possible, compartmentalizing and locking them away as though they were separate from me, so he couldn’t find them when he assimilated the silver cards I always returned with. It had become a game of sorts, something to live for. A battle of wits against my owner. I think he knows what I do and enjoys the challenge. I can’t hide my body—what is left of it. He owns me in total. One speck of emotion I can secret away is a small battle won.

But my mind is something he hasn’t replaced—at least not yet. There is ongoing research at the Factorium in that area. As far as I know from his discussions at various social functions where the doctors are present, the experiments thus far haven’t been completely successful. I know my time is running out. There will be no glimmer of memory of what I was. But he will have it—there, in that red velvet box—on the sets of cards that one day will contain all I had been.

There are others in that secret vault. Deliveries when his manservant will present him with a box. He will open the package, examine the contents thoroughly and then take them to the hidden room to be assimilated later and locked away. These he will not share with me.

He’s not in the mood for a private concert tonight, but I’ve been given a sheaf of music to memorize. I’m reprieved from that this evening. Tonight there are other games he wishes to engage in, other torments at hand.

I sit in a chair in front of the fireplace, wearing a transparent white lace negligee with matching wrapper trimmed in black satin. The corset beneath rises to just beneath my breasts, forcing them up against the expensive material. My ribs are constrained tightly, forced close. I know he is testing the modifications. Will they yield as they are meant to? Or will they snap the same as my fragile human bones would have done with such tight confinement? My breaths are shallow, painful. The front of the gown dips low, exposing the full curves of my breasts. My silver-tipped nipples shimmer in the firelight. My legs are curled beneath me. I hold myself erect, shoulders straight. Now I am able to breathe. I sip from the glass of golden cognac Silver3_smhe has allowed me this evening. Warmth curls in my belly. It helps to mellow the pain.

He sits across the room at his desk, the red velvet box opened, a soft sky blue polishing cloth in his hand. He has already carved his initials—and mine—into the marrow. He lifts out the first piece from the box and holds it up to the light. Instinctively, I brush the fingertips of one hand along my imprisoned ribcage. I want to reach out to snatch the items from the desk, and my fingers curl into a clenched fist against my flesh.

Not my fingers. Not my ribs. Not my legs. What will be next?

 

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Haevyn – an excerpt

In a city controlled by men, her choices will destroy her or empower her. There is no middle ground. And the love of two very different men may yet define her triumph…

 

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Duty and honor demand the ultimate sacrifice.

Everyone has their poison. For Haevyn Breina, it’s her inability to resist a dare. This time it’s a challenge from her friend and lover, Grisha, to sneak into the popular, illegal cage fights that always end in all-male orgies. Eagerly she snaps up the gauntlet, unaware that she will end the night forever changed.

When expatriate humanotic warrior Entreus locks eyes with Haevyn at the sex-fueled event, he is instantly captivated. Despite a duty that binds him to an exiled malevolent sorcerer, he seeks her out in a shattering, illuminating encounter.

Grisha’s plan is in motion—to bring both his warrior lovers together and heal their scarred souls with a combined passion that he alone cannot provide. But Haevyn’s tormented past refuses to die. And Entreus will not rest until the Core (the ELLC) that ruined his life is destroyed.

Amid ever-tangling emotions and a brutal plot to take over the city, the three lovers walk a tightrope that could be cut at any moment. Fighting for justice, bound by duty…and a love that could alter the foundations of their world.

Excerpt

“You shouldn’t be out walking these docks alone.”

She whirled around, a hand going to the weapon in the deep pocket of her cloak. Instinct kicked in.

It was him, the humanotic champion from the Cockrage. Her fingers curled around the unyielding handle of the revolver. Just that act alone offered some security. She should have scented him, known he was near. Facing him, though he stood some distance away in deeper shadows untouched by the bright moonlight, she took a cautious step back. He reeked still of game-savage intensity. And the scent of that barbarian earthiness appealed to her in a way it shouldn’t. But now, at least, he was partially clothed, though the trousers fit him all too snugly.

“Are you following me?” she asked in a deceptively deep tone, still trying to mask her sex. He stepped forward, lamplight spilling over him, glinting on his bare, skinmetal chest. Gods help her, why was she drawn to this stranger so peculiarly? She fought the attraction with everything she had, but it was almost more than she could withstand. Something seemed…different about him. Or maybe it was just the energy of the night still drenching her from the games. Aberrant attraction. She would be the cause of her own destruction if she wasn’t careful.

He shrugged. “I saw you at the fights. I knew you weren’t one of them. Perhaps you intrigue me. There’s little in this dimension that…arouses me of late.”

The tenseness of his half-guarded expression seemed familiar—a resonance in the intensity that shot through her, sporiti-deep. She connected with that emotion. Understood it. The cowl of her coat still shrouded her face; the bulkiness of the outer garment engulfed her form. “I’m not what you think I am.”

Her nipples drew tight and hard as an unexpected desire took root. She saw a glint in his eyes and knew that probably, with his altered senses, he could smell her arousal.

He took another step toward her. “You belong to Grisha. I saw you with him. Why are you out here alone?”

“What’s it to you?” Her heart pounded. They were alone here in the dead of night. He might do anything to her.

Anything at all.

Her nipples scraped against the rough fabric of the binding beneath her shirt, the contact shooting a jolt of blistering desire through her body down to her cunt. She fought for control; her fingers trembled against the grip of the gun, but it wasn’t because she was chilled, nor was it from fear. What would it be like to fuck him? She already knew every inch of his man-flesh from the cockfight. She’d seen him aroused. Had watched him dominate and claim sexual victory over his opponent. She had even imagined herself in the place of that vanquished warrior, feeling that cock penetrating deeply into her pussy.

Haevyn tightened her fingers around the revolver. With her other hand, she reached up and yanked back the hood of her coat so the champion could see exactly what she was. She waited for his reaction. His expression didn’t alter in the way she expected. Somewhere in their depths, she saw…recognition that went deeper. A foreshadowing. A connection.

He had known she was female. She saw it in the deepening of his expression. No surprise. No shock. More an acknowledgment of what he’d expected.

“Yes, Grisha’s,” he said, stepping closer. “I doubt he would want you to be alone on the docks at this time of night. It’s not safe.”

She loosened the grip on her weapon. Every sensation sharpened. Another, alien emotion melded with arousal. Outside of Grisha, she had never lain with a man purely for pleasure. Even her relationship with Grisha didn’t leave her feeling as though a raging ball of fire burned inside her gut. Her response to this man took her by surprise, and she wasn’t necessarily ready for the…elemental lust that consumed her. She didn’t want to know this humanotic’s true identity. She didn’t want to give him hers. But, by the gods, she wanted to fuck him. She wanted him so badly it hurt—hurt so damned good.

Fear tinged that sensation, deepened it. And in this moment, she had no thought about what came before or after. These were the moments she lived for, her senses firing on every level, gut-deep, primal. This was what she craved.

Haevyn eased her hand away from the gun and waited for him to make the first move. He stepped forward, apparently understanding the silent invitation. He drew close, so close she could feel his heat.

“I want you,” he said without preamble.

“So have me.” Neither was she in the mood for coyness or flirtation.

He unfastened her cloak, and it dropped to the boards. He studied her a long, heart-pounding moment. She reached out, slipped a hand inside the waistband of his simple linen trousers. Found him hard and ready for her. She remembered the look of that cock, oiled slick in the cage. She recalled watching, unable to look away, as he reigned triumphant o

ver his vanquished opponent.

“I know what you want,” he said. He yanked the tail of her shirt from the confinement of her britches, even as her fingers curled around that thick, hot cock imprisoned inside his pants.

“Unfasten my trousers,” he said. He unbuttoned her shirt, unwound the binding and tossed it away. Her breasts popped free, nipples erect, exposed and vulnerable. Cool air mated with hot flesh, causing her to shiver.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“No.” She definiHaevyn_smtely wasn’t cold. Her hands shaking from the need to have him buried inside her, Haevyn released the fastening on his pants, and his big prick burst free of the confinement. His was a human prick, not made of humanotic material. That this part of him was human pleased her.

“Here, on the dock? Or some place more private?” He cupped her breast with his humanotic hand.

She noticed a slight difference in texture and warmth, but only marginally different from human hands. The touch sent a current of electricity zinging through her body, arrowing down to her vagina. He could easily crush her. Breathlessly, she leaned into him. He kneaded her breast, a touch of skinmetal to human flesh, and she barely caught the moan before it escaped her throat. “Here. Now.”

 

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