My Angel of the Dawn (WomanxBoy, ManxBoy, Sci-Fi + Romance)

***2***

Before leaving the trader's house, Nelsa threw her cloak at the boy. "Cover yourself."

"Thank you, mistress," he said softly.

Nice voice, she thought. Wow, Nelsa, what's got into you?

They never traded another word on their way to the Aescuzan spaceport where she had left the Aurora — her small, fast cargo ship with plenty of hidden compartments and smart upgrades essential for her trade.

The boy, quiet and silent as a ghost, followed her up the ramp into the ship and to her cabin.

"If you want to take a shower, it's through there," she pointed. "I'll fix us something to eat."

Without a word he took the cloak off, neatly folded it, hung it up on the back of the only chair and disappeared into the bathroom. Nelsa mentally went through her wardrobe, scant as it was. Everything she owned would be too small for him. She'd have to buy something in town tomorrow.

The boy managed to have showered quickly. She was still going through her box of canned food trying to find something less boring than the usual "Breakfast of spacers", when he emerged barefoot, a towel wrapped around his hips. She glanced at him over her shoulder and nodded to the chair.

"Could I possibly be of some help to you, mistress?" he asked shyly.

His presence started to grate on her nerves. She'd rarely had strangers on her ship, mainly the stevedores and the port workers, and her cabin had been definitely off-limits for them. His mere presence here was a nuisance enough. Must he pester her with stupid questions as well? She's perfectly capable of fixing a simple meal on her own, thank you very much!

"Listen, lad, just sit quietly for a minute, will you? You'd help me best by not getting in my way," she snapped. Then added more gently, "I can't be all chatty and social on an empty stomach. Let's eat and then discuss your immediate future."

Nelsa turned away from him and continued foraging through her stores.

"By the way, what's your name? Alric didn't say, and the bill of sale holds only your registration number."

"You can call me anything you want, mistress," his voice said right behind her, startling her silly.

Damn, he moves as quietly as a cat! He's almost managed to give you a scare, Nelsa. You of all people. Do you really think he would attack his newfound mistress? He is doped, and a branded slave at that. He has nowhere to go, even if he manages to open the hatch!

"I'm ready to satisfy your every desire, mistress." His voice was now a hoarse whisper.

Suddenly he put his arms on her shoulders and pressed his whole body to hers. She felt his hot breath on her bare neck and next — the touch of his lips on her skin.

Her reflexes took over before Nelsa's brain even registered what had happened. Her body flashed into movement. Nelsa hit him in the face with the back of her head, simultaneously jabbing her elbow under his ribs. He cried out and let go of her. Nelsa whirled around, brought him down by an uppercut and yanked out her blaster.

When she came to her senses and her brain started working again, the boy was groveling on the floor, naked, his nose bloody. And she was pointing her blaster right between his eyes, screaming madly, "Never, ever lay your hands on me, you pig, you dirty bastard! Never, do you hear me, never..."

She cut herself off mid-word and slowly lowered her weapon.

"Oh hell!" she moaned.

"Mistress, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it!" the boy frantically pleaded, trembling all over. "Please, punish me, I deserve it!"

He is frightened senseless, and no wonder. Those who have seen you in a fit of rage thought the Tryadian dragon was less terrifying.

"Oh hell!" She seemed unable to come up with anything else to say.

You could have killed him, Nelsa.