Keith looked from Ranger to Inquisitor and back, certain his expression was answering Medart's question before he spoke. "Strongly enough that if I thought there was any chance of acceptance, I would offer her my fealty." Cortin looked at him thoughtfully, then smiled. "If that means what I believe it does, Lieutenant, you'd be in no danger of refusal." Keith returned the smile, feeling a blast of elation, then acted on her promise and knelt. "Colonel Joan Cortin, I wish you as my chosen lady, if that should be your will. I offer all that is in me to give: body and mind, will and honor, whatever courage is mine. And death itself may not deny the service I offer, in whatever afterlife is to come." She extended her hands, smiling again. "I accept your service and yourself with thanks, warrior." Keith took her hands and rose, wishing he could display his elation, but that would be improper with others around. Instead, he bowed to her. "You do me great honor, Thakur." "The honor is mine," Cortin replied. "Are there any formalities that need to be taken care of?" "I'll handle those when we finish here," Medart said. "His release from service, back pay and allowances--but it'll be up to you to notify his clan and make arrangements for his tattoo." "When we're done here, as you say." Cortin turned to her new sworn man. "To give you a status recognized here, I'm commissioning you a Royal Enforcement Service officer. Now, would you like to test your theory?" "Very much, Thakur." Keith paused, then continued apologetically. "I'm afraid I don't know how, though. One of our strongest customs forbids any same-sex physical intimacy. Since it seems yours doesn't, that no longer applies to me, of course--but the fact remains that I have no such experience." Cortin chuckled. "That can be remedied easily enough, if you decide you want to, but for your present purposes you don't need experience. All you have to do is take hold of him, snugly enough to provide a friction surface but not tight. The eroticine will make him take care of the rest." "That sounds simple enough." Keith reached for the prisoner. He grasped slippery flesh, pleased when the man winced and tried to pull away. That should be a good sign. He followed the flinch, keeping the snug hold his thakur had recommended--and she was right, the prisoner began pumping, almost immediately accompanied by cursing and moans. For a bit, Keith remained still, getting used to the feel and rhythm. This was all he had to do, she'd said, and Keith was sure it would have the desired effect--but she wanted the man to suffer as much as a human could. Sure that there had to be a way to elicit more pain on the way to its peak, he tried modifying his grip, going with the prisoner's movements, kneading gently at the end of each thrust.