“You may, Stone.”
“Thank you.” He nodded and turned to Gozeriam. “Your Slimefullness, my Mistress and I intend to display for you today an erotic massage in the true Yonnite tradition,” he said. “It is a scenario that will titillate any Yonnie Mistress who observes it and it should prove that we will be excellent performers for your intended pornography.”
“Very well,” Gozeriam rumbled. “You may proceed.”
“Um, we’re going to need some props, though,” Cassie protested. “We can’t exactly just lie down in the middle of the floor to do a massage. We’ll need a massage table and oil and towels…”
She had been hoping that the porn magnate would declare that he didn’t have all of that equipment on hand and they would have to put off the display until later, but Xempi Gozeriam only said,
“Of course. We understand.”
He motioned to one of the other guards—not Bertrina—and she pushed a button on the back wall. Suddenly, a glowing orb began descending from the ceiling. It was the size and shape of a volleyball but it shimmered all over, throwing dazzling rainbows in every direction. It was so bright Cassie could barely stand to look at it.
“What is that?” she breathed, taking a cautious step back from the shimmering rainbow orb. It was certainly pretty, but it might also be dangerous, she thought.
“That is a dream-star,” Gozeriam rumbled. “One of you must touch it and envision all the things you need for your display.”
“I see.” Cassie was reaching out to touch the shimmering rainbow surface when Stone put a hand on her arm to stop her.
“Mistress, may I?” he asked, giving her a protective look. Clearly he was afraid the dream-star thing might hurt Cassie and he wanted to put himself between her and any possible harm.
Cassie wanted to sigh at his over-protectiveness, but that would be breaking character. So she simply nodded and said,
“Of course, Stone. As you massage me all the time, you must know even better than I do what supplies we need.”
“Thank you, Mistress.” Stone touched the glowing orb with his fingertips, his lids fluttering closed as his brow furrowed in concentration.
And then, suddenly, everything changed.
Twenty-Six
“What…where are we?” Cassie looked around herself in wonder.
The vast, shadowy throne room of Xempi Gozeriam had disappeared and in its place was a tropical hut.
She knew the hut was tropical because there was a wide-open door in one wall which showed a shimmering layer of pure white sand outside. Just past the sand was clear turquoise water. Waves were lapping lazily at the beach with a soft shush…shush…shush sound.
Strands of large, waxy flowers in bright shades of vermillion and crimson had been strung together and hung on the wooden walls of the hut. The air was filled with their heady scent as well as the faint fragrance of coconut. A soft, warm wind from the ocean swirled in through the open door, adding a tang of salt to the air.
In the center of the hut, was a padded massage table covered in a snowy white sheet. There was another, smaller table to one side which was filled with many different bottles of all different sizes and shapes. Were those…massage oils?
“What is this place?” she asked again. “How did we get here?”
“The dream-star has created the environment you find yourself in, Mistress Cassandra,” Gozeriam’s deep, burbling voice answered her from somewhere outside the hut. “It makes thoughts into reality—for a time.”
“So…you thought all this up?” Cassie asked, turning to Stone. He was still bare chested and wearing his black leather trousers and slave collar, she noticed, but he was barefoot on the sandy floor of the hut.
She was barefoot herself, Cassie saw. And she was no longer wearing the metal bikini Kat had made for her. Instead, she had on a white halter top which tied at the neck and back and a pair of white boy-shorts to match it. Both were made of the kind of material that would be completely see-through if you got them wet, Cassie thought, and both were much softer than the hard metal bikini.
“You made all of this—including my clothes?” she asked Stone again.
He nodded and reached out to brush a strand of hair out of Cassie’s face.
“I hope you like them, Mistress,” he murmured. “I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”
Cassie bit her lip. Without her cape and the twin swatches of crimson cloth that had attached to the front and back of the metal bikini bottoms, she felt much more exposed. Which made her wonder—did Stone like to see her exposed? Had he been fantasizing about something like this? After all, the tropical hut in all its minute detail and the clothing she was wearing was a lot to think up on the spur of the moment.
“We suggest you get on with your display, Mistress,” Gozeriam’s voice burbled. “As I said, the dream-star only lasts for a time. You do not wish to waste your illusion of privacy, or bore and annoy us by wasting our time.”