"Piers Anthony - Bio of a Space Tyrant 02 - Mercenary" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anthony Piers)

"Would you like me to undress you?" she inquired, as if this too were dull routine. Surely it was, for her. "Uh-please, no, thank you. I-"

"Listen, kid, you only have fifteen minutes, and it takes five to undress and redress. I've got a schedule to keep. If you don't strip, I'll do it for you. I don't indulge with clothed men." Again, the term used was not "indulge." "It-I think that would do no good," I said. "I-" "You asked for it," she said impatiently. She bounced off the bed and strode to me. Without formality she unbuttoned my fatigue shirt and tugged it free of one arm and then the other. Then she went for the trousers.

I am, as it is put in English, ornery in some ways. I did not resist her; I let her undress me completely, moving when and in the manner she directed me, to complete the operation. In moments I stood naked before her, un-aroused. This is, if you choose to call it that, another kind of talent I possess.

She looked at me and made a wry face. Then she shrugged out of her negligee and stood as naked as I was. She bounced a little on her feet so that her breasts lifted and fell impressively. She had the requisite physical attributes. But to me this was like a laboratory exhibit, and I did not react.

"May I touch you?" she asked. In the Navy no person is permitted to touch another without that person's permission; it is supposedly a safeguard against abuse. An inspecting sergeant asks the recruit's permission before he takes hold of the belt buckle to see whether the back side of it has been properly shined. Of course the sensible recruit does not refuse such permission, ever-but the forms are scrupulously honored, and I believe it is right that they are. Only an ignorant person would believe that the military service is a profession of physical violence; it is, in fact, a profession of social violence, at least in the training stage. The recruit's soul, not his body, is abused, generally. So this woman requested my permission before she touched me, but I was not wearing a belt or buckle for inspection at the moment.

"Yes," I said somewhat harshly, for my throat was tight.

She knelt before me and took hold of my member. She kneaded it delicately. She knew what she was doing; obviously she had had much experience. But there was no response, for my mental control, buttressed by my genuine aversion to the proceedings, remained in effect. I was impotent-and therein lay my true potency.

She got up, her lip curling with disgust. "Okay, soldier, I give up," she said. She walked to the wall and touched a button. "I'm buzzing the supe; she knows how to handle your kind."

"My kind?" I asked.

"The slobs who can't get it up."

This creature was not becoming more endearing with familiarity. "As I explained, I am not inclined at the moment."

She stared at my member. "Exactly." The door opened behind me. I half-turned, abruptly embarrassed about my nakedness, but there was no refuge.

The one who entered was a woman in her twenties, garbed in a kind of off-the-shoulder, half-off-the-breast robe. She was beautiful, with flowing orange hair and a voluptuous body. She took in the situation in an instant. "Leave him to me, June. Take five."

"Yes, sir," the girl said, and quickly donned her negligee and departed.

Sir? This was an officer! That dismayed me further.

The woman sat on the bed. "Sit beside me, Private," she said, patting the bed. "Do not be alarmed."

I sat beside her, still conscious of my nakedness. Somehow it was worse to be naked before an officer than before an enlisted girl.

"You are young, I see," she said. "Probably admitted underage on a waiver, or by error. Fifteen?"

"Sixteen, sir," I said. Growth rates vary, and I am not a large person; still, this too was embarrassing. "They wouldn't-"

"It is all right; I inquired merely as a point of information, not as criticism. I presume you do not want to be discharged on that ground?"

"No, sir!" I said quickly. "I want to be in the Navy."

"Excellent," she murmured, and I saw how skillfully she was managing me. She had gotten me to agree with her on a matter of substance, and she had couched what could have been a threat in a positive manner. I had good reason to cooperate now. She understood motivation. "Have you copulated before?"

She had a higher-class vocabulary than did the girl, June! "Yes, sir." I said.

"With a woman?"

I felt the flush starting again. "Yes, sir."