Vashti Valant - Hothouse Orchid.pdf - Vashti Valant - SilverWitch

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Hothouse Orchid

ISBN # 9781419909894

Edited by Jaynie Ritchie.

Photography and cover art by Les Byerley.

Electronic book Publication May 2007

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written

permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-

3502.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales

is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Content Advisory:

S – ENSUOUS

E – ROTIC

X – TREME

Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-

rotic), and X (X-treme).

The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been

rated E–rotic.

S- ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

E- rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall

word count. E-rated titles might contain material that some readers find objectionable—in other words,

almost anything goes, sexually. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry in terms of both sexual

language and descriptiveness in these works of literature.

X- treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Stories designated

with the letter X tend to contain difficult or controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

H OTHOUSE O RCHID

Vashti Valant

Chapter One

“Botany isn’t really my specialty,” Vance said.

“What? With a name like Gardener?” mocked the fat little man representing

Hothouse Inc. It was obvious the company rep had already pegged Vance as some sort

of lowlife tough. Vance’s black battle-bitten leatherine flex-weave armor, worn skin-

tight over a brawny chest, along with the prominently displayed guns on his hips, thigh

and back, did contrast with the ostentatious blandness of the facility, which was part of

Hothouse Inc.’s corporate headquarters’ complex. The company rep led Vance through

a grid of chrome corridors. These access ways led to a multitude of offices and

laboratories, according to the neat labels on the walls, but they were sealed and

concealed each and every one behind impenetrable security doors. The monotony of the

endless straight passages, right angles and elevators had an almost narcotic quality.

“Just a coincidence,” Vance said in response to the jeer at his name. “I have

experience with genetic engineering but mostly in the field of human pathology. Since

your company deals in hothouse flowers, not people—”

Vance broke off, not because the fat company rep ignored him but because they had

entered a secured room where a girl lay strapped and splayed out naked on an

examination table. Her skin was the shade of palest lilac, and her purple hair was

streaked with marigold. A fragrance wafted from her of mingled tropical flowers and

feminine enticement.

The table was one of those with an adjustable angle for the headboard and stirrups

for the legs. The headboard on this one had been cranked to a slope of about thirty

degrees and it faced the door, so the girl could clearly see the strangers enter, just as

they had a fine view of her ample, purple-tipped breasts. There was no doubt that she

was forcefully bound, not merely reclining there at her leisure. Metal clamps pinched

her wrists to the edges of the table on either side of her head, such that her arms bent at

the elbows flat against the black leather padding. Metal clasps around her ankles

secured her delicate bare feet in the stirrups to pry her legs wide open.

If they had a fine view of her breasts, they had a magnificent view of her cunt. Her

buttocks balanced on the edge of the table. Toe to hip, her legs were long and shapely,

but loveliest of all was the smooth, taut skin of her inner thighs. As for her cunt, it was

unbelievable. A woman’s labia was often compared to the petals of a flower, but this

gorgeous creature had actual flower petals, velvety purple, around the flushed lips of

her pussy, where an ordinary woman would have had pubic hair.

Vance frankly stared at her intimate assets, fascinated.

When the girl saw the men, and how Vance focused on her exposed sex, she

strained against the cuffs on her wrists and ankles in a futile effort to withdraw or cover

Hothouse Orchid

herself. The helpless movement only caused delicious ripples along her body.

Humiliated, she twisted her head away from the men. A pinkish-purple blush stained

her lilac cheeks. The blush matched the deeper tint of her spread labia and thus only

further emphasized her sexuality.

“Your bio says that you were born on Earth,” the company rep said disapprovingly

to Vance. “Is the nature of the product going to be a problem for you?”

Vance Gardner had been born on Earth, but for the past fifteen years, he had lived

on some of the roughest planets of the Edge. After the death of his wife and baby and

the failure of their colony, Little Bentley, he had forged a living as a smuggler, a

mercenary, a doctor, an exo-veternarian, a hunter, a gladiator and even as a technical

assistant to a chef cooking with genetically engineered food. He had never started a

fight, though he had been in many, and the men who had started them no longer

breathed. Without his family, he had no particular reason to go on living. He was just

too damn stubborn to die. So he took interesting and dangerous jobs, kept his body fit

and hard, and his mind even harder.

His job description this time read “Technical Consultant”. A grossly rich man, an

Avant, in fact, had hired Vance to examine what had been described only as a special-

order genetically engineered hothouse orchid. The Avants lived a lifestyle all their own,

so it hadn’t fazed Vance a bit to hear that this flower cost Fb 20,000,000, which equaled

the entire sum of money pooled by the original two hundred fifty colonists of Little

Bentley to found their community.

Vance had to admit that the scenario and the price made a little more sense now

that he saw the “orchid” in question. Not a flower, but a sex toy. A very expensive,

high-end sex toy, but no different in essence from the sex kittens and love bunnies

churned out by Cathouses and Bunnyhutches. Those places provided genetically

engineered demifems , creatures with the bodies of human women but truncated brains

that lacked the neocortex, and thus the capacity for rational thought. The Houses said

the demifems were about as smart as the cats or rabbits with whose genes they were

spliced to give them their cute, animalistic features—ears, tails, a hint of fur—but Vance

had found them to be duller even than the typical household pet. A cat, a real cat, could

be quite clever and possessed a range of interests. The brains engineered for the

demifems devoted most of their grey matter to sexual appetite, to the exclusion of all

other drives. Some of them couldn’t even feed themselves. They would starve if they

wandered away from their keepers.

There had been a time when pride or ethics would have repulsed Vance from

coming close to a sex kitten. But loneliness and need and danger piled up on a man, and

he had overcome that squeamishness long ago. Yes, he had been to Cathouses. He’d

even toyed with the idea of buying his own sex kitten. He’d treat his pet with kindness,

and she would purr for him when he needed the physical relief of her lush,

overfeminine body.

In the end, he never did it. Maybe the memory of Margaret was still too strong. Sex

with Margaret had been a meeting of minds and hearts as well as bodies. A time to

Vashti Valant - Hothouse Orchid.pdf

Plik z chomika:

Inne pliki z tego folderu:

Inne foldery tego chomika: