Sci-fi Erotic Romance - Educated by the Master

Cailin Briste here with my latest sci-fi erotic romance.

Master Trey, a secondary character in Shane: Marshal of Tallav, deserves his own story. That will be book #4 in the Sons of Tallav series, but before then I'm writing a prequel that will appear in the SFR Shooting Stars next anthology.  The LS Quantum is preparing to set off into the great expanse of the universe–loading cargo, checking in passengers, monitoring flight conditions. Traversing through various worlds, the luxury space liner promises adventure, a little chaos and fourteen stories of tender love. Expected release date: Fall 2017.

Master Trey will be one of those travelers to experience the wonders of the LS Quantum and its celebrated Cosmic Love Cabaret. Here's a taste from the first chapter of Educated by the Master.  This is a work in progress. There may be final edits before publication.

Yeah, Master Trey looks just like Dwayne Johnson. Imagine that!

It hadn’t occurred to Trey that LS Quantum and Beta Tau were two sides of the same coin. Sure, LS Quantum was a spaceship, and Beta Tau was a planet. But he’d read the LS Quantum’s brochures, and in every other respect they were the same large, climate-controlled settings designed to provide trendsetting pleasure venues to paying customers and entertainment for all ages and palates, including his own kinky tastes. 

The insight came when a middle-aged woman eased alongside him, brushing her shoulder against his and asking if he was headed to the LS Quantum and if so, where his cabin was located on the ship. Her skimpy halter, skintight slacks, and the bright pink hair she was sporting did nothing to enhance her appeal. This was Beta Tau all over. The glare he aimed at her didn’t force her to step back. Good gods! I’d be at Quantum’s shuttle service gate if Patsy O’Shaughnessy hadn’t insisted on meeting me here. He scanned the customers of the bland space station lounge. No. Still on my own.

An expert at fending off tourists on Beta Tau, he’d offer to take them to the club, tie them up, and use a bullwhip on them. Most scurried away. He handed anyone who accepted his proposition over to staff at the club. Bondage was part of his personal kink, but he preferred to use a flogger. The whip was the specialty of the Whip Hand’s owner, Randolph Meryon, Trey’s boss.

The neon-haired tourist ran a finger down his upper arm. “Maybe we could get together on board? I’ve heard bald men are really good in bed.”

When he dropped his gaze to where she’d touched him, the woman tittered. Eyes narrowed, he leveled his full focus on her. “Sure. If you’re into knife play, I might be able accommodate you. I’d have to ask my girlfriend. She’s the one who does the cutting.” He followed his words with a feral grin.

The tourist turned pale. “No thanks.” She scuttled back to her friends who’d been watching the exchange. Wide-eyed, they left the lounge, several looking back over their shoulders to get another glance at him.

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