Edge Plays, by Cecilia Tan, 51
Edge Plays
Erotic Stories of the Kylar
by
Cecilia Tan
Edge Plays by Cecilia Tan
Copyright © 2009 by Cecilia Tan
An earlier edition was published in limited run ebook by the Erotica Authors Association in 2006
First Circlet Press Edition 2009
Smashwords Edition
This ebook edition does not replicate a printed book. It was lovingly hand-prepped for upload in-house at Circlet Press and then converted to multiple ebook formats by the Smashwords "Meatgrinder."
Published by
Circlet Press, Inc.
39 Hurlbut Street
Cambridge, MA 02138
www.circlet.com
License Notes
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Books About the Kylar
Telepaths Don't Need Safewords
The Velderet
Edge Plays
Royal Treatment
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction
Master Mind
The Game
Chapter Four of The Velderet
Passage
Excerpt from Royal Treatment
About the Author
Appendix, Glossary, & Extras
Introduction
In 1991 I wrote what I consider the first whole story of my adult life. I had graduated college, moved to Boston, discovered the Internet and BDSM all at once. I wrote a story entitled "Telepaths Don't Need Safewords" and posted it on alt.sex.bondage, then the main Usenet newsgroup for people into leather, spanking, bondage and other kinks to gather. The story was one of those things that came to me in a flash--the title and the plot came at he same time, along with the two main characters, Arshan and Mriah.
Unlike so many erotic stories which I had read, "Telepaths" didn't involve anyone's first time having sex or trying bondage, nor did it involve two people meeting for the first time, which is another staple set-up in the genre. For some reason I had come to these characters midway through their life journey together. In the story, it is clear they have been partners for a long time, and also that they share a singular gift: they are telepathic. I hint in the story that there are reasons why they used to go to SM parties, reasons why they stopped, and reasons why they started going again. But in the story itself I never explained any of it. How did they meet, where did their telepathic powers come from, and what is the backstory behind their disappearance and reappearance from the scene?
Over the next fifteen or so years I wrote many stories (and one novel, The Velderet) that filled in some of the backstory of the universe I had created. The stories appeared in many different anthologies and books, but until the 2006 ebook edition of "Edge Plays" had never appeared together in one place. "Master Mind" in particular is of interest to fans of "Telepaths" as it tells the story of how Arshan and Mriah met. Another story about Arshan, a novella-length BDSM adventure, called "Royal Treatment" is being published by Torquere Press in December 2009. I am pairing the stories in this book with an appendix which--like the "making of" sections of a DVD--reveals more about the connections between these stories and the universe of the Kylar. And there is more coming, I'm sure. That's just how my brain works. I've been writing in this universe for almost 20 years now; I'm not about to stop.
Enjoy this excursion into my personal fantasy world.
Cecilia Tan
Cambridge, MA
Master Mind
I arrived on the island as summer faded and the days shrank, with scars on my back and my mind still reeling from what I had just been through. But this is not the story of the Emperor and his daughter and all the things that happened to me before. This is the story of what happened to me on the island of Lhysa.
Two of us took the government-sponsored ride from the mainland, me and a woman in her mid-forties, her shoulder-length hair still richly black but shot through with strands of silver. The transport left us at the near-deserted landing point on the island's rocky north side. The white craft lifted off in near silence behind us as we walked from the platform to the intake center. The woman, who had not spoken to me the entire trip from the mainland, asked me as we approached the door, "So, headed for the spas?"
It was a funny question. The reasons for me to go to the island were myriad. I suppose was there to recuperate but the healing waters had not been explicit in my plans. I was being kept out of danger, I was curious about my mother's people, and I was very curious about the woman asking me my destination. I wondered if she had The Sight and raised an eyebrow at her. She raised an eyebrow in return. She was wearing a shirt too large for her, the sleeves rolled up, showing sunbrowned arms and empty hands. On her back she had a small pack.
"Well, you don't look like a researcher," she said then. "How long are you going to be staying?"
"Not sure," I told her. I was carrying a small satchel of clothes, some of my father's money, and nothing else. "My plans are kind of open ended. What do you mean, researcher?"
"Not a scientist?" She pointed to her head and I realized what she meant. There were only three types of people allowed on the island, those who came to study the unique psionic powers of the inhabitants, those who were approved to come for healing treatments, to stay at the spas for short periods of time, and those who were descendants of island dwellers. I belonged to this last category, as the pass I showed to the intake clerk read. I was processed in mere minutes and let through. On the other side of the small building, there was nothing but a road leading south and inland.
The woman followed me out. "Welcome back, unduma," she said, using the island word for "homecomer." "I never would have guessed."
"Why?"
"Because you look like one of them." She meant I looked like a Kylar. Tall, rangy, I looked more Kylaran than my own father, who had once been the second in command in the empire. "Half blood?"
I wondered if everyone on the island was so direct and nosy. I suppose in a community of mind-readers there is no need of secrecy. "Yes."
"Do you have The Sight?"
"No." We were both walking down the road now, though I did not know where it went. "Not so far as I've noticed."
She nodded. "Not everyone here has it either, you know. Only a few. The gene pool's been watered down over the years."
I murmured in agreement as if I knew what she was talking about. My mother, at least according to Audan, had various psionic talents. I had been separated from her too young to have known she was different from other humans. "How about you? Can you read my thoughts?" I asked, throwing some of her directness back at her, very curious if her interest in me was genuine or if it was my imagination.
"No," she answered. "Not me."
We walked in silence then for a while and I studied her out off the corner of my eye. She was older but still had a kind of beauty, a fine-shaped face and sharp chin--if I had to guess I would have said she was part-Kylar, too. Though the way she had said "them" made me wonder. "What's your name?"
"Vika," she answered. "And yours?"
"Arshan."
She looked at me when I said that. "Like the emperor?"
"My father has high hopes for me." I tried to make a joke out of it. After all, there must be a Kylaran male born every day who was named for the emperor. But she took it seriously.
"Then what the hell are you doing down here?"
"Staying out of trouble," I replied. Lhysa was perfect for that, on a world that was barely in Kylaran control, plus the island itself was a protected state.
Vika walked in front of me then, stepping backwards so she could face me as we went. The land on either side of the road was barren and dry, just a few strange plants twisting up through the reddish soil. "You'll need a place to stay."
I also had a pass to the spas in my satchel, just in case, but her tone of voice intrigued me. "Yes, I suppose I will."
"I have a spare cot you can use for a while," she said, her eyes suddenly shying from mine. "I know it won't be what you're used to, but..." She took a deep breath. "But many things here won't be as you're used to."
So much for directness. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you know. The lifestyle here is different." She had gone from brazen to shy and I could guess why, but something in me wanted to prolong her discomfort.
I suppressed a smile. "How different?"
She stumbled then and fell backward, landing hard on her rump in the middle of the dusty road. I loomed over her as I reached down to help her up. She took hold of my hand with both of hers and ran her cheek along the back of it, speaking fast. "There are few of us here who enjoy.... I mean, who can satisfy your tastes."
As I suspected. My--or rather the Kylaran--reputation for dominance preceded me. I pulled her to her feet and spoke to her softly. "I am not a lord." Not here, anyway.
"No, but...." she swallowed whatever words she was going to say. Trembling next to me, her hand still in mine....
It was almost a reflex, to reach out and stroke her hair. If it was what she wanted, then she knew the desires of the average Kylaran dominant well. We are groomed for it. She shivered under my touch, and suddenly the fact that she was worldly wise and I was barely an adult did not matter. I kept my voice low and quiet. "Have you served before?"
"Not... formally." Her head was bowed and I almost felt like I could cup her soul in one of my hands. I raised her chin with one finger and her face was scarlet with shame or desire or both. Then her natural forthrightness came through. "But I thought you might need... I mean, if you're going to stay here for a while..."
"You thought my knob might need polishing?"
She turned even redder at that. I moved her hand to the loose fabric of my pants where my erection was hardening. I am my father's son, of that there is no doubt, and my body responded to her gesture of submission. She nodded, her breath catching in her throat. "But, but the people here don't understand."
"I know." The Kylar had conquered many places and our customs had come to rule dozens of worlds. But on this island, the old ways remained. Honestly, it was a relief to know that I was not in for months of celibacy. Half-blood or no, I was all Kylar in that sense. We are bred with sharp passions and they need to find release. I looked into her eyes to reassure her. "So let it be our secret."
"Secret," she repeated, her fingers quaking against the stone stillness of my flesh.
She was still on the ground and I pulled her up onto her knees, even as my other hand was freeing my cock. There were questions and protests in her eyes, even as I filled her mouth with me. "There is no one here on the road," I said in answer to her unspoken worries. "We are not even in sight of the town yet. And I need to know if you are worthy of having me sleep on your cot." I tried to make it a joke but the seriousness with which she began tonguing and sucking me proved she did not take it that way.
She may have lacked formal service, but she had years of practice, or so it seemed, with the Kylaran anatomy. As she licked and drove her head down over me, she kept one hand wrapped around my balls, restricting me somewhat. I could have grown larger, large enough to choke her, if I had wanted. But with her hand there--and my desire was for pleasure not for punishment--I stayed hard and mid-sized in her mouth. If I had wanted, I also could have held back my ejaculation. But I let hot liquid jet into her mouth and relished the feeling of her licking me clean. I licked the edges of her mouth then, pulling her up to me and returning her to some semblance of respectability. We shared a laugh, and as we made our way into town she told me some about the island and what I could expect.
It took another hour to cross to the greener side of the island, where the ground was still stony but plants grew and the shore sloped to sandy beaches and calm waves. She led me to a settlement near the ocean, in and around an area of hills and stone outcroppings. Her home was built into the side of a rocky cliff, the front room built of mudbaked bricks, the back disappearing into the island's body. It was five rooms, clean and warm, rustic and very private in its innermost chambers. I had just put my bag down in the deepest room and was removing my boots when her home system alerted us to someone at the door. She went to answer it while I nosed about trying to discover where in the rustic architecture the system's speakers were hidden.
Vika came back a few minutes later, worry lining her face.
"What's happened?"
She sat down on the bed pallet next to me. "Our priestess was very sick. She had something even Kylaran medicine wouldn't heal."
"You said was..."
"She died yesterday."