Malena MCD by Beryll & Osiris Brackhaus
Release Date: Thursday, March 23 2023
Cover Artist: Anna Sikorska
Primary Plot Arc: Romance
Pairings (if a romance): MmF poly / throuple
Genres: Romance, Science Fiction
Length: Novel / 62,000 Words / 212 Pages
LGBTQ+ Identities: Bi / Pan
Keywords/Categories: Space Opera, Hopepunk, Slavery, Adventure
Tropes: Police Procedural, Rescued Slave, Spicing up a Marriage, Happy Slut, Clueless Hunk, Brilliant Wife
Mauve is a pet, a human pleasure slave. He is smart, ambitious, horny – and the only witness in a murder case. Or rather, he is ‘evidence’.
Luckily, the crime was committed on Malicorn, where an unsolved murder would disturb its profitable reputation as the safest planet of the Empire. So Mauve ends up in the hands of the Malena MCD, the local Major Crimes Division, run by ex-space-marine Alexej Sirenkov and his brilliant wife Andrea. Unwilling to see him stored in the evidence locker, the Sirenkovs take him home for a few days. And while Mauve hopes they might just be the perfect forever-owners, he has no idea of Mistress Andrea’s plans for them…
Written by award-winning authors Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus, ‘Malena MCD’ is a funny, naughty, police procedural throuple rom-com set in the wildly diverse, hopeful ‘Virasana Empire’ universe and can be read as a stand-alone.
Warnings: First Person POV, Slavery, MMF threesomes, Graphic Sex Scenes, Violence. And pigs, of course. We’re on Malicorn.
✨ Exclusive Excerpt ✨
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I emerged from the shower, all damp and hot and steaming. Night was falling outside now, and the calling of gulls had mostly stopped as they all moved to Malena for their evening feast, begging scraps from the countless tourists dining along the Rasher.
I wiped the mirror with a towel and wondered at the stupidly happy grin on my face. There was no denying it, I felt great, squeaky clean and relaxed after the hot water had pounded on my shoulders until the muscles gave up the knots they had tied themselves into. Well, I would have preferred having been pounded by a certain Malino police officer, but hot water had been a decent substitute.
Talking about Alexej – I had also used the opportunity to wank myself to two great orgasms, shamelessly day-dreaming about the way his tight body filled his uniform in all the right places. I was still annoyingly twitchy and hot for him, but at least it had taken the edge off.
Maybe all this was just temporary bliss, but it was pure bliss nonetheless and I would enjoy every second of it to the limit. No point in worrying about what would happen once the investigation was finished and I was put back on the market to be picked up by the next fucker. It would just spoil what I had now.
I snorted at myself. Right. Like I would manage to suddenly turn into a dumb little shit not thinking about the future. I hadn’t even managed that before, when life had actually looked bleak and terrible. Now that I had an actual chance of a better life, I better not fucking blow it.
I needed a plan to convince the Sirenkovs to keep me. I needed to make myself as useful as possible. Chances were slim, but chances had been much slimmer of me surviving as long as I already had, so there.
I opened the bathroom window to let the steam escape and rubbed myself dry. The air outside smelled of the sea and the flowers from the shrubs that surrounded the house like a comfy shawl. I put the soft sweatpants and the t-shirt back on as they were the only clothing I had been provided with, left the bathroom and headed downstairs to see if I could find a member of the Sirenkov family and maybe be of some sort of service.
Apparently, Mistress Sirenkov had come home in the meantime, as I spotted her in the kitchen, now dressed in denims and the same long-sleeved shirt she had been wearing under her combat gear earlier. She was unpacking grocery bags, presenting a perfect chance for me to be useful. Of course, there was no sneaking up on her. She turned and smiled at me the moment I stepped off the stairs.
“There you are. Shalice said that you were cleaning up.” She eyed me critically from head to toe and nodded with satisfaction. “Mauve, it is, yes?”
“I’ll take a guess: Shalice picked that name?”
“Yes, Mistress. But I do genuinely like it.”
I added the last bit even though she hadn’t asked for it. Not good slave manners, but maybe an information she ought to have.
“Good enough.” She gestured to one of the bar stools at the counter. “Come, sit here.”
I obeyed, wondering what she was up to as she rummaged through a drawer. She came back to me with a pair of heavy pliers and I couldn’t help flinching away from her. Bad, bad memories.
“I won’t hurt you, sweety. I just want to get this god-awful plastic collar off of you.”
I blinked in surprise. That collar had been around my neck since I left the breeding facilities where I had spent the first few years of my life. It held my ID chip and a tracker and was welded close. Together with the barcodes tattooed on my wrist and neck, it was the cheapest way of keeping track of bargain bin pets.
But apparently, none of that mattered one bit to Mistress Sirenkov, who unceremoniously cut off the collar and put it aside like a useless price-tag from a new shirt. She pulled a dark brown leather collar from one of her shopping bags and fastened it around my neck. It felt soft and didn’t chafe at all. Almost automatically, my fingers went up to touch it and found that it was lined on the inside with some soft, slightly fuzzy material.
Mistress Sirenkov scanned my old plastic collar with her cellphone and then held the phone against my new collar until it beeped gently. Transferring my ID data, I guessed. So there had to be some sort of chip embedded in the leather somewhere. The thought reassured me greatly. If someone scanned it, they would know I currently belonged to a family of police officers. That would make any random asshole think very hard about whether to use me first and hand me back only afterwards.
Mistress Sirenkov inspected me and nodded satisfied. “Much better.”
As much as I wanted to agree with her, I wasn’t too sure what to make of this. If Alexej had given me such a nice new collar, it surely would have fallen under the ‘don’t take advantage’ clause. But apparently, Mistress Sirenkov herself was allowed to buy me nice gifts.
“Thank you, mistress,” I said while trying to catch a glimpse of myself in the window pane. The brown had looked like it would go well with the muted green of my hair.
“There’s a mirror by the stairs,” Mistress Sirenkov said, smirking. Of course she had caught me. “Go take a look. And then you can help me prepare dinner.”
I went over to the big mirror and silently looked at myself. It was like looking at a stranger, or rather someone who looked like a very strange version of myself. Fully clothed, clean and with the new collar, I didn’t look all that cheap and used-up anymore. The small smile I could not suppress looked good on me as well. I tugged my hair behind my ears neatly. It was in need of a cut, a bit of a shaggy, uneven mess currently. My eyes were still too large and too strangely coloured, but maybe I would have a chance to attract a decent buyer once this weird episode in my life was over.
Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus are a couple currently living their happily ever after in the very heart of Germany, under the stern but loving surveillance of their cats.
Both are voracious but picky readers, love telling stories and drinking tea, good food and the occasional violent movie. Together, they write novels of adventure and romance, hoping to share a little of our happiness with our readers.
An artist by heart, Beryll was writing stories even before she knew what letters were. As easily inspired as she is frustrated, her own work is never good enough (in her eyes). A perfectionist in the best and worst sense of the word at the same time and the driving creative force of our duo.
An entertainer and craftsman in his approach to writing, Osiris is the down-to-earth, practical part of our duo. Broadly interested in almost every subject and skill, with a sunny mood and caring personality, he strives to bring the human nature into focus of each of his stories.