Victor woke up quickly and easily, as he always did, alert to his surroundings. Normally, this would be followed within seconds by him rising from the bed and beginning the day's activities.

This morning, however... was unlike any other in his life.

For starters, the moment he stirred, the arm around his chest and the leg draped over his thighs began to tighten. Granted, the motion was gentle, the limbs were supple, and the skin was silky smooth. It was still like being held by a python.

The feel of those anaconda muscles brought back to him in a flash everything that had transpired in the course of the night. The very long night. For a brief moment, Victor gave thanks that Thandi Palane enjoyed being sexually submissive. If she hadn't, he'd probably be a corpse. "Dominating" her had been like a mortal "dominating" a goddess—a feat which was only possible because the goddess willed it herself.

And that, of course—given Victor's capacity for self-reproach—was the main thing which held him paralyzed. As episode after episode from the night before flashed through his mind, he began to plunge into an abyss of guilt and remorse. The problem wasn't that he'd acceded to Thandi's wishes. Deeds were simply deeds, after all. Victor had committed acts far worse—by many orders of magnitude—than anything he'd done the night before and, more or less, shrugged them off afterward.

But that was because he hadn't enjoyed them. Whereas...

I'm a pervert, he thought bleakly.

He probed his memory, trying to find some particle of distaste; some instant of hesitation; one single point where he'd paused—just for a second!—before wallowing in the sheer pleasure of it all.

Nothing.

Face it, freak. You found the whole thing completely thrilling. Best sex you ever had in your life—ever dreamed of—not that you've had all that much sex to compare it to, but still...

Pervert! Admit it, Cachat! You loved every minute of it! Every second!

Gloomily, he started dwelling on this or that remembered moment. Each and every one of which had made him ecstatic. Within seconds, his gloom deepened. He was getting erect again.

And there's the proof of it. You swine.

Thandi was awake herself now. Her lips pressed against the back of his neck, open, her tongue starting to work. The same tongue which figured quite prominently in a number of those remembered flashes. He was completely erect even before her hand found him.

"Dream lover," she murmured. The anaconda body writhed, pulling Victor on top of her. Resistance would have been futile, not that Victor tried. Quite the opposite, in fact—and the gloomiest moment of all came when he saw how avidly he discarded all melancholy and plunged back into rampaging lust.

He did, for an instant, try to tell himself he was just being "very energetically passionate." The instant lasted perhaps a nanosecond.

The worst of it came when it was over. Thandi was a very verbal lover, and once his passion was spent, Victor was able to look past his moral qualms to face the underlying reality. Even more than the goddess body, it was that mezzo-soprano voice which thrilled him. He remembered something his father had once told him, in one of those occasional periods of lucidity when he wasn't drunk.

Son, you'll know you're in love when a woman's voice settles into your spine. Trust me on this one.

Victor had doubted him, at the time. Which seemed wise, given that his father's inebriate advice and observations were usually suspect. He didn't doubt him any longer.

"What are we going to do?" he whispered into her ear. Then, a last shred of his rigid moral code exerted itself, and he tried to leave her a way out. "If we're not careful, this could... you know. Get serious."

Thandi's hands slid under his armpits and she lifted him away from her. Not far, just enough to see his face clearly. The ease with which she did so went a long way toward quieting his remorse. Whatever helpless-female, bodice-ripping fantasies Thandi might have—okay, Victor admitted, he had, too—he was reminded that any man who actually tried to rape the woman would be lucky if she just maimed him.

Something of those thoughts must have shown in his expression. Thandi chuckled, and a smile spread across her face. That smile. The one which, along with her voice, put the goddess body in the shade.

"Don't be silly, Victor. We both enjoyed it—lots and lots—and who cares about the rest? Fine, it's a little kinky. Big deal. I weigh one hundred and fourteen kilos—"

Victor winced. Thandi laughed aloud.

"Good thing I like being on the bottom, huh? And if I say so myself, there isn't a lot of it flab. I once lifted well over twice my body weight—two hundred and fifty kilos—in a clean and jerk. Not to mention that I have black belts in four separate martial arts; I'm an expert with most edged or blunt weapons; and I'm a crack shot with any kind of projectile or energy weapon, as well. So give your tender conscience a rest, will you?"

The smile spread into her pale, hazel eyes. Victor was lost, and he knew it.

"As for the 'serious' business," she continued, "speak for yourself. From my point of view, that advice is maybe, oh, six hours late."

She held the smile, and the warmth in her eyes, allowing Victor to find the exit if he wanted to.

But he didn't—and took comfort in the fact that he never even considered it. A freak and a pervert, he might be, although he was beginning to suspect that Thandi's cheerily amoral view of the matter was probably a lot saner than his own. But he was not a faithless one. Never that.

"I'm crazy about you," he said quietly. "I have no idea what we're going to do about it, but... there it is. Crazy or not. There it is."

Her eyes were watery. "Thank you, Victor," she whispered. "Just for saying it. Yes, it's undoubtedly insane. I don't care. For once in my life, I'm going to do something just because I want to."

She lowered him, and the long kiss which followed was a quiet thing. They'd both purged enough passion and lust over the past hours to allow for that. Just... quiet. A promise, not a prize.

They were eventually interrupted by someone knocking on the bedroom door. The courtesy was pointless, perhaps, since Ginny barged in less than two seconds later.

"Victor, you look better than I've ever seen you," she pronounced. "Thandi, you're a gem. And now, I'm afraid, the two of you have to get moving. The whole thing's coming apart."

Victor was up and already starting to dress. Thandi, likewise.

"What's happening?"

"The station just got a transmission from the Felicia. Your attempt to stall for time didn't work. Templeton's people say they're going to blow it up if we don't transfer the Princess over there within two hours. The transmission was received by every news station on Erewhon, I might add."

Victor pursed his lips. "They moved faster than I expected." He gave Thandi a guilty glance. "I guess we probably shouldn't have—"

"Finish the sentence and you're a dead man," growled Thandi.

"And I'll feed your corpse to the scavengers," Ginny chimed in immediately. "They've got really nasty ones on Erewhon, too, I hear. Some kind of giant worm—more like a centipede—starts by burrowing into your intestines and working its way out."

She shook her head. "Fair warning, Thandi: your new boyfriend's capacity for self-recrimination is just about bottomless."

Thandi smiled, as she began putting on her boots. "I noticed. On the other hand, I believe I can do something about that. Made a good start on it last night, that's for sure." She glanced at Victor, the smile becoming sly. "Look at him, will you? Blushing! The same man who ravished me—again—less than an hour ago. He wasn't blushing then, Ginny, I can tell you that."

Victor was quite sure his face was pink. Beet red, probably. It suddenly dawned on him that Thandi was going to be as bad as Ginny, when it came to teasing.

"There I was, begging for mercy—among other things, I admit—and did he care? Ha!"

No, she was going to be worse.

"Have you had a chance to do any window-shopping here yet, Ginny? I'll bet a place like this has a great leather shop."

"Got to," agreed Ginny. "Soon as we get a chance, we'll find out." Thandi was on her feet, now. Ginny cocked her head and examined the tall woman standing in front of her.

"Chains too, I think. You'd look fantastic in chains. The barbarian princess, at the mercy of her conqueror."

Thandi grinned. "One of my favorite fantasies. In fact—"

Desperately, Victor tried to change the subject. All the more desperately, because of the sudden vivid image which came to his mind. Thandi; nude; chained; helpless. He was having trouble getting into his pants.

"What was the exact wording of the message—"

Thandi drove right over it. "—I'm thinking I'll have to get Victor some kind of whip. Nothing heavy-duty, of course. I'm not really a masochist, I just like to play at it. But I've seen those cute little velvet things. They couldn't do more than sting a bit."

The anaconda body writhed briefly. "Oh—please!" Then, she grinned at Victor. "Something wrong with the pants, sweetheart? Want some help?"

He tried to glare at her. But wound up just laughing.

"I'm ruined," he proclaimed.

"About time," said Ginny. She turned and headed toward the front door to the suite. "You'd better have those pants on in five seconds, Victor, or you'll be ruined in public. I'm letting everybody in."

She gave him ten seconds. Just enough time for Victor and Thandi to emerge from the bedroom and close the door behind them. Victor's pants were on by then—not that it made much difference. Modern styles for men's casual wear ran on the tight side. He might as well have been wearing a codpiece.

Hastily, as Ginny opened the front door, Victor flopped into a nearby armchair and crossed his legs. Moving less hurriedly, chortling all the while, Thandi eased into an armchair next to him.

Princess Ruth was the first one through, already talking as she entered the suite.