Page 15 of Under His Skin

“People? Which people?” Tracht felt all the languidness leaving him. Without a thought to Alex, he got off the bed and started pulling on proper clothes. Tracht heard Alex whimper, but he ignored him.

“An Inspector Chiaki Kuroyama, from the Department of Internal Investigations. They have a warrant to search the ship.”

Bahjat suddenly cursed, and then a different voice spoke. “Captain Tracht. I’m transmitting the details to you now. We have permission to search the entire ship and access your records.”

“My records?” Tracht scrambled to remember if he had anything incriminating lying around. There were the Nilsens’ trade routes and blackmail material, two years out of date by now, but he had those files stored safely off-site. There were also his correspondences with clients and client records, none of which he wanted made public, but it wouldn’t be an issue if the investigators rifled through them.

That left the vids of… Tracht looked over his shoulder at Alex, who was still asleep on the bed. He’d pulled the comforter tighter around himself, probably still cold and half in shock from sub drop.

Having homemade porn wasn’t illegal, though, distasteful though somebody might find it. Tracht had made sure never to keep any vids of when he’d gone beyond the letter of the bondleasing agreement, though he’d always felt a bit of regret. Now he was glad he’d been so cautious.

“We’ll start with your quarters,” Kuroyama said. “Your First Officer can show us up.”

“My—?” But the call ended before Tracht could protest further.

He didn’t have time to clean. He didn’t have time to disassemble the cage, or to remove the more terrifying toys. He didn’t even have time to get himself more presentable, let alone Alex.

“Alex!” Tracht barked. “Get up and get dressed!” He didn’t stop to look if Alex complied, tapping on his tablet and switching to the recording settings for the camera in his room. He deactivated it and deleted the footage of the past two hours. He waffled on whether he wanted a recording of the investigator going through his things, but decided it was unlikely to yield anything that would make him look good.

That was when the door slid open, completely without his permission. He turned to face the intruders: Bahjat, two regular station security staff, and Inspector Kuroyama.

Kuroyama was short, comically so standing next to the very tall Bahjat, with black hair buzzed close to their skull and a loose-fitting suit that was clearly meant for a person much larger than them.

“Forgive the intrusion,” Kuroyama said, not a single shred of remorse in their voice. “But standard protocol is to search private areas first.”

Tracht forced himself to smile. “Of course. That’s completely understandable, but you did catch me at a very bad time. I was in bed.”

Kuroyama nodded and turned to the two security officers. “Search everything. Make note of any communications devices.”

The two officers went to work, and Tracht resisted the urge to yell at them for touching his things. Watching them was infuriating, but not watching would have been worse. One officer had started going through the mini kitchenette, while the other one was rummaging through Tracht’s closet. Kuroyama picked up Alex’s tablet, sitting on the coffee table, and didn’t even ask for permission to begin browsing the contents.

“Sorry, Captain. I didn’t have a choice,” Bahjat whispered to him. She’d calmed down a bit, but judging from her appearance, she’d been dragged out of bed. Whoever had been on security at the gate had opted to bother Bahjat instead of Tracht.

“I understand,” Tracht said. “But do me a favor—check who’s on deck, remind them of standard protocol. And then inform the rest of the crew not to bother coming in for the next few days.”

“Three communiques in one day. The crew will be thrilled.” Bahjat shrugged. “I guess it is what it is.”

She turned to leave, but Kuroyama noticed and said, “Ms. Bahjat. Please do not attempt to leave the ship. I will be questioning you shortly.”

Bahjat waved dismissively, not even turning around. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be here.”

After she left, Tracht turned his attention to Kuroyama. “May I ask what, specifically, you’re looking for? Perhaps I can help you find it.”

“That’s confidential. Whose tablet is this?” Kuroyama started reading, “I miss Lina so much. Charlie tied up my cunt again, and isn’t even giving me any ass play to make up for it. He just tortures me daily. He makes me describe what I want to do for Lina, how we’re going to surprise her. Imagine: chains attached to my nipple piercings, then hooked onto my lip piercings. Another set of chains connecting my nipples to my cunt. They’d all be so tight that any movement could make them—”

“Shut up!” Alex shouted, startling everybody.

Tracht looked over, and winced when he saw that Alex hadn’t gotten dressed. He’d crawled out from under the covers and sat up on his knees, so there was a very large naked man on display now, wearing only the bondservant collar

“Why are you reading my mails?” Alex demanded, louder this time, but Tracht noticed the waver in his voice.

Before Alex could say anything to get either of them in trouble, Tracht walked over and put his hand on Alex’s shoulder. Alex stiffened briefly, but then relaxed, leaning his head against Tracht.

“Calm down. Don’t say anything,” Tracht murmured. In a louder voice, he said to Kuroyama, “This is Alex Stone. If you’ve done your homework, you’ll know he’s my bondservant.”

Kuroyama’s mouth thinned in obvious disgust. “Yes. I had heard about that arrangement.”

Tracht resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s all within the bounds of the law. And I’m sure as an inspector, you are well versed in our legal system.” He emphasized that by stroking the bondcollar around Alex’s neck.

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