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 I ve got an implant, so I m shooting blanks. You ll get no genetic patterns from me
before my contract runs out. It was an idiotic thing to say, but Paris couldn t think of
anything better now, and it was in character for a  sexual toy. He was focused on the words
 breeding program. What kind of breeding program? He had to lead Oswego along until he
revealed all.
 Well, of course not. Did you really think I d let you go after three months? Oh, no,
beautiful Paris. You re going to fall in love with me, resign as an engineer, and stay here
forever at my side. Or, at least, that s the letter you ll write to Maxim. Oswego s knife was
now sawing through Paris s belt.  I would have preferred that you fell in love with my son,
116 Lena Austin
since that was more plausible. However, he s no longer an option. I don t need him anymore,
really. I have enough genetic deposits for him to father hundreds of children on slaves.
 For your breeding program? To what purpose? Somehow, I don t think you care about
being a loving grandfather, Oswego. Paris winced as the knife flicked a small cut on his
lower belly.
 Why, to create thousands of replicas of myself. Each of them as beautiful as I am, as
much of a genius as Sumner -- yes, I know what he is, since I made him that way -- and with
all your skills and training. He s not a clone, merely the result of a little minor manipulation
of my genes, but he s nearly perfect. He ll do to father thousands of clones. The belt parted
and was removed completely.
 Mind transfer has not been developed. How do you propose to give all the genetic
constructs my knowledge? It wouldn t work, in any case. The reason a sex engineer was
successful was their giving heart, not just knowledge. If all the clones were like Oswego, that
would fail.
A groan from Sumner had both Paris and Oswego glancing over. Sumner was
beginning to stir, and likely to awaken. Then a horrible thought hit Paris. What if all the
clones were as good and generous as Sumner?
Oswego s chuckle interrupted Paris s contemplation.  Yes, Paris. Sumner doesn t have a
mother, per se, only an egg donor and a surrogate who provided a nice warm place to gestate.
He s me, with some flaws corrected in vitro. We don t know what happened with the lighter
skin, but that was a minor flaw we refused to worry about. Skin color doesn t matter.
He went back to work, shredding Paris s clothes from his body.
 Forgive me if I m a bit slow, Oswego. You still haven t answered how you intend to
get my knowledge and training into your replicas, and what purpose it will serve. Paris had
a feeling it had something to do with why he was being stripped, but wasn t willing to
speculate.
Sex World 1: Assassin 117
 True, I haven t. You re going to train my replicas. If I find a way to wipe Sumner s
memory selectively, I might allow him to help. I would love to preserve his skills as a
manager, but I can t have him going behind my back and planning to take over. I must make
a note to ask the geneticist if there s a way to remove ambition. The last sentence was
mumbled as Oswego carefully cut the strings holding Paris s underwear together.
There went his garrote. Paris tried not to sigh.  What makes you think I d give up trade
secrets, Oswego?
 You already have given up some, I point out. That lovely session with Sumner was
recorded, of course. What a wonderful concept, engaging the emotions first. I never would
have thought of it. I prefer fear as the only emotion, but I do recognize that love is even
more powerful.
Sumner groaned again and raised his head. His eyes were dazed, and he probably had a
concussion. He probably wasn t aware of much, yet, Paris surmised.
 Ah, good. My son awakens. Oswego turned back to Paris.  I can t help calling him
that, still. Habits are so hard to break.
Paris raised his head to watch as Oswego turned and marched through the open cell
door. The guards snapped to attention, though the one holding the knife near Sumner s
throat remained in that threatening posture.
 Go get the slaves and see to it they awaken Sumner. I want his mind clear and his cock
standing up fully. The guard without the knife bowed and left. Oswego remained, carefully
going over Sumner s injuries as one might a pet.  I do hope that blow to the head hasn t
caused permanent damage, he muttered.
Two naked male slaves trailed at the end of the guard s leashes when he returned.
Apparently, they d been given their orders, because they went immediately to work, taking
turns sucking on Sumner s cock without preamble. Their hands were cuffed behind them,
but they awkwardly did their best.
118 Lena Austin
Oswego returned to Paris s side.  You see how clumsy they are? No finesse. While you,
you have talent. You make it an art. When we re done here, I think I may even use you
myself in such a capacity. By then, you ll be fearful enough to be erotic to me. He pinched
Paris s nipple hard enough to cause Paris to grunt in pain.
His leopard loincloth stood out like a tent with his erection. Paris tried not to gag, or
worse, vomit. He wanted no part of this lunatic. He d rather suck off a sweaty miner who d
not bathed in three days. He swallowed, forcing the bile back down.  You still haven t
explained why you want the knowledge of a sex engineer.
Sumner was groaning and writhing under the attentions of the slaves. Paris saw more
sense in those tortured green eyes when Sumner looked up.
Oswego snapped,  Guards! Leave us!
All three guards left without a word, closing the dungeon doors behind them. Paris s
sensitive hearing caught the sound of the locks being engaged. Trapped. He didn t know the
codes to get out. Damn.
Leaning until his face filled all of Paris s vision, Oswego casually played with Paris s
cock like a toy.  Why, Paris. I m surprised at you. Surely you realize the power of what you
do, don t you? Why, this well-trained piece of flesh in my hands is quite literally a weapon.
With it, you can learn secrets, and topple empires. Better yet, you can gain power for
yourself. Who doesn t want a lover who can do anything to ensure your pleasure? Men and
women throughout history have killed because of this magical piece of meat.
Disgusted as he was, even Paris was not immune to someone handling his cock and
focusing his attention upon it. Neither was Sumner, from the heavy breathing now audible.
Oswego heard it, too, and turned.  Stop, slaves. He sauntered over to stand next to his
son, casually kicking the slaves out of the way.
He casually fingered Sumner s erection.  Isn t it lovely? Think of thousands of men and
women -- oh, yes, gender is easily changed -- just like him, trained to make sexual slaves of
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