Heat cloaked the back of her throat. Was her life really over? Was she to become the wife of an alien ruler? Would she never see her family again? Dear, sweet Charlie and her friends, were they forever gone? How could anyone, even an alien, think for a single moment she could accept such a tragic fate? Heavy tears threatened, but abruptly subsided.
“That must be the so-called sedative,” she mumbled, a heavy frown crossing her brow. “I suppose I should be grateful they’re providing me a modicum of comfort, but how can I be? They’ve ripped me away from my life!”
As she gazed around the empty room, she realized the annoying pulsing light had stopped pulsing. It offered only a sliver of relief, but it was something. Slipping off the bench, she gingerly placed her feet on the floor. It was warm and spongy. Then moving across to where Zaroff had appeared, she hesitantly reached out her hand. Cool to her touch, the surface was as solid as concrete.
“Food!”
Startled, she spun around. The keeper stood by the bench, but she could see no door through which he would have entered.
“Where did you come from?”
“Food,” he repeated, placing a tray on a table that hadn’t been there just a moment before.
“Tell me how you got in here, and what about that table?”
Ignoring her questions, he walked to the opposite side of the room, and as he neared the wall a large oval space magically appeared. There had been no sound, and the keeper had done nothing except approach.
“Enter,” he said, with a theatrical sweep of his arm.
Apprehensive, but filled with curiosity, she walked past him and discovered a gleaming white bathroom that could have been found in any contemporary house on Earth.
“To make me feel at home?” she asked, staring back at him. “It doesn’t matter what you do—or what he does—I will never accept this! Do you hear me?” she shouted. “Never!”
“Food,” the keeper said again, still standing on the other side of the large hole in the wall.
“Will it open and close whenever I walk up to it? Probably a silly question.”
“Food.”
“Yeah, okay, I get it. Limited vocabulary,” she mumbled, walking past him as she returned to the room, then pausing her step, she looked back at the wall. The opening had vanished, and the keeper was following her to the table.
Continuing on to the table, she studied the tray. A wineglass filled with what appeared to be red wine, a china bowl with two bread rolls, and a plate covered with a purple lid. Lifting it up, her eyes grew wide.
“Holy crap! Lasagna? This is impossible.”
But the rich aroma tickling her nostrils smelled exactly like her favorite dish at Mario’s, the Italian restaurant she and Charlie both loved.
“Zaroff? Can you hear me?”
“Eat,” the keeper exclaimed, standing over her and pointing to the plate.
“Okay, okay,” she said hastily, staring up at him, “but where do I sit? Why am I asking you? It’s not like you can understand me.”
But as the words left her lips, he pointed to a chair at the side of the table.
“Good grief! Where the hell did that come from?” she muttered, sitting on the chair that had apparently materialized from thin air. “I hope this really is wine. I may be under the spell of some weird sedation, but I need a fucking drink.”
Bringing the drink to her lips, she took a sip, then another, and let out a satisfied sigh. It tasted just like her favorite cabernet. Thinking she must be dreaming after all, she put down the glass and took a mouthful of the piping hot pasta.
“My God, this is delicious!”
“I’m glad you’re pleased.”
Darting her head up, she found the keeper had vanished and Zaroff was standing beside her.
“You almost gave me a heart attack! Zaroff, will you do something for me?”
“Certainly, if I’m able.”
“This appearing and disappearing thing, it’s unnerving. There’s no warning, you’re just there! Can you please make a sound, or knock, or—”
“I understand,” he replied, cutting her off. “I can make the adjustment. I sense you wish to dine alone, but when you’re finished I’ll return to administer your punishment.”
“What?”
“You didn’t hear me? I said when you’re finished, I’ll return to administer your punishment.”
“I heard you, I just couldn’t believe it. How am I supposed to eat after hearing that? I don’t mean to be rude, but—”
“My presence and comment were purposeful. Anticipation is a very important element of discipline.”
“Uh-huh. I see. And, uh, can you tell me what this punishment will entail?”
“The same correction is also used on Earth, which I find rather interesting. You will be spanked on your bottom while bent over my lap.”
Chapter Two
A spanking?
It was not what Abby expected to hear, and watching Zaroff stride off through an opening in the wall that appeared as he approached, she picked up the wine and took a long drink.
“I suppose it could be worse,” she mumbled, shivering as she tried to push away thoughts of the horrible things he could do to her, “though with those muscles of his...! But why did the ruler choose me?”
A wave of despair suddenly swept her up, and placing her glass on the table, she dropped her face in her hands.
“This is all too much. I can’t stand it.”
A knocking sound broke the quiet, causing her to snap her head back up. A second passed and the knocking repeated, then the keeper walked through the wall.
“Eat!” he ordered, towering over her. “Zaroff orders.”
“You knocked! Damn.”
“Eat.”
“I’ve lost my appetite, besides, the pasta will be cold now,” she muttered, turning her eyes to the lasagna, “and who wants to—holy shit. It’s still steaming. Of course!” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “Why should I be surprised? Why should I be surprised about anything?”
He stepped closer, and she noticed the crack in his forehead.
“Zaroff orders eat!”
Not wanting to make her pending punishment any worse, she picked up her fork, and after the first couple of bites her appetite began to return. With the keeper standing over her, she finished the meal and drank the wine, but as he lifted the dishes and disappeared through the wall, she knew it meant Zaroff would return. Zaroff and his punishment.
“This is nuts,” she mumbled, rising to her feet and beginning to pace. “I’m about to be over the knee of an alien. How can this be happening?”
“I’m coming in.”
Zaroff’s deep, accented voice seemed to bounce off the walls. Abby immediately assumed he didn’t care to knock, then wondered if he just wanted to unnerve her even more.
“I won’t let you get the better of me,” she swore under her breath. “No fucking way.”
“Miss Abby Walker,” he announced, moving through the magically appearing opening and into the room. “Are you ready for your punishment?”
“Is anyone ever ready to be humiliated and hurt?”
“Certainly. There will come a time when you will welcome my discipline.”
“I seriously doubt that. May I ask you something?”
“You may.”
“If the ruler wanted a doormat, why did he choose me?”
“A doormat? I don’t—oh, you mean a woman who is demure and weak. A doormat! What an interesting way to describe such a person.”
“Interesting or not, wouldn’t someone like that be more to his liking? Doesn’t he want a wife who will follow twenty steps behind him saying yes, sir, no, sir, three bags full, sir?”
“Three bags full, sir? What does this mean?”
“It’s an old nursery rhyme. The point is, why did he choose me when he wants a wife to bow and scrape.”
“Bow and scrape? What is this bow and scrape? Why are you talking in riddles?”
<
br /> “I thought you spoke English!”
“I do, fluently, but I’m not familiar with these idioms, though I do understand your question. I assume to bow and scrape means to bow, obviously, and scrape? What is that? To serve unflinchingly? Scrape dirt off his shoes?”
“It means to bow so low your knee hits the floor.”
“Curious, but as to your question, why didn’t the ruler choose a floor mat—?”
“Doormat.”
“Whatever kind of mat, this doesn’t interest me, Abby Walker. You have made an incorrect assumption.”
“Can you please stop using my last name all the time,” she snapped, then hastily added, “Sorry. It’s annoying. Just call me Abby.”
“Abby,” he said pointedly, “the ruler has no wish for a docile, quiet wife. He requires stimulation and challenge.”
“But he expects total obedience.”
“Of course.”
“Don’t you think—?”
“Enough!” he said brusquely, holding up his hand. “I suspect you’re engaging me in this conversation to avoid your punishment. That would be a grave mistake.”
“I’m not.”
“So would lying about it. I do not tolerate untruths, and neither will the ruler. I know it’s easy for humans to lie, but it is a habit you must break.”
“I don’t want to be here!” she exclaimed. “Don’t you get that? I was simply pointing out a woman less emotional and combative than me would be a better match.”
“This conversation is over,” he declared, lifting the chair and placing it in the center of the room. “It is time to execute your sentence.”
She watched, nerves firing, as he sat down, and when he turned his eyes and caught hers, she heard his unspoken command. Though she felt compelled to step forward and bend over his knees, she didn’t move. If he wanted her to do something he could damn well tell her.
“You know exactly what you must do,” he said quietly, though his voice was stern. “If I must give the order, I will spank you harder.”
Cursing silently, she moved slowly forward, paused as she reached him, then reminding herself she should be grateful he hadn’t stripped her bare, she stretched herself over his lap.
“Ten for your betrayal. I will be counting them out, but first I will bare your bottom.”
“No!”
“You dare to question me?” he scolded, landing a hard, unexpected slap. “Don’t make that mistake again!”
Gasping as the hot sting burned her backside, she dreaded the exposure, then wondered how he’d removed the silver suit while bent over his lap. Her question was quickly answered as she felt the air kiss her skin. Somehow he’d peeled back only where the strange fabric covered her bottom.
“Naked and ready for punishment,” he exclaimed. “A spanking must always be delivered to bare skin. Now you will feel my discipline.”
A hot blush crossed her face. She hated that she was exposed to his eye. Never had she felt so vulnerable and helpless, and she despised him for it, but her thoughts were sharply interrupted.
“One,” he declared, spanking her on each cheek.
The smack hurt, and she hissed in the air as she waited for the next, but to her dismay he paused to run his fingertips over her skin. Mortified by the intimate touch, she wriggled, hoping it would provoke him to continue. She wanted the humiliating experience to be over, but ignoring her silent protest he began fondling her cheeks. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing her groan, she bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Two,” he suddenly declared, landing the same pair of blows.
Not wanting to give him any satisfaction she didn’t cry out, but as he delivered the third, she found it difficult to remain still and quiet.
“Your backside is most appealing,” he murmured, fondling and squeezing her cheeks. “The ruler will be very pleased.”
The comment infuriated her. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to fight. She wanted to pound her fists against him, but she knew any attempt to protest was futile.
“Repeat after me,” he abruptly ordered, landing the last smack with much greater force.
“Sir, I am sorry for my betrayal. If I break a promise again I will expect swift justice.”
“Sir, I am sorry for my betrayal,” she bleated, the burning sting taking her breath away. “If I break a promise again I will expect swift justice.”
“Your second crime. Vulgar language. You shall receive five on the lower area of your buttocks,” he decreed, resting his palm on her sit spot. “I will begin. One!”
The area was far more sensitive, but clenching her teeth, she managed to suffer through the first three blistering smacks without making a sound, but when he paused and spread her cheeks, she couldn’t suppress her groan of humiliation.
“As I suspected, you feel shame. You should feel shame for your crimes, not my eye on your back hole.”
His hand suddenly blasted with a fiery heat as he landed the remaining slaps, then quickly pulled her cheeks apart a second time. Her stomach churning with dread and completely mortified, she reminded herself the punishment was almost over.
“Repeat after me,” he ordered. “Sir, I am sorry for my foul mouth and I will not curse like that again. If I do, I will expect swift justice.”
“Sir, I am sorry for my foul mouth and I will not curse like that again. If I do, I will expect swift justice.”
“Time to address your disobedience. You lack respect for authority. This will not be tolerated. You will receive fifteen hard slaps. I will begin now,” he warned, lifting his leg and placing it over the backs of hers, “and Abby, I am not a fool. You’re limiting your responses because you do not wish me any gratification. I don’t require any. I am punishing you because you deserve it. Your choice to remain silent has no effect on me. These will be swift and hard.”
But his lecture proved unnecessary.
As he inflicted the rapid volley of sharp swats there was no controlling her squeals and squirms. His hand traveled its scalding kiss across the breadth of her backside, down to her sit spot then back up again. With no hesitation between each stinging slap, though the punishment was swiftly over, it left her near tears and gasping for breath.
“Repeat after me,” Zaroff exclaimed. “Sir, my place is to obey.”
“Sir, my place,” she panted, “is to obey.”
“Sir, I am ashamed of my lack of respect.”
“Sir, I am ashamed, of, uh, my lack of respect.”
“Sir, if I show such defiance again, please punish me.”
“Sir, if I show such defiance again, please punish me,” she managed, wishing she could put her hands behind her and rub her seared skin.
“Take several deep breaths,” he ordered, squeezing and rubbing her cheeks. “You will remain as you are until you settle.”
Except for a few swats during sex, which she’d found surprisingly exciting, Abby had never experienced a spanking, and as much as she didn’t want to, she suddenly felt an unwelcome need to be held and comforted. Refusing to consider such a thing, and hating the muscled alien for what he’d done to her, she purposely fell limp so he’d let her up.
“Better. You may rise.”
Her face flushed, her bottom burning with a prickling heat, she crawled off his lap and stared at the floor.
“Look at me, Abby.”
Not wanting him to see the deep resentment in her eyes, but fearing what would happen if she didn’t do as he said, she lifted her gaze.
“Now you understand consequences, but there are other ways I discipline besides spanking, though I do find corporal punishment effective. You will find life here more pleasant if you surrender to your circumstances.”
“You’re probably right about that,” she replied, her voice a breathy mumble, “but I don’t think I’ll be able to.”
“I sense there’s more you wish to say. Please feel free.”
“But I’m not allowed to speak my mind, not unless
I want to be punished, and I don’t.”
“You misunderstand. You are always free to share your thoughts, but you are not allowed to be rude,” he said, his voice softening. “Please talk to me. I want to hear what’s on your mind.”
“I don’t want to surrender to my circumstances,” she mewled. “Why are you keeping me here? I want to go home.”
He sat silently for a moment, then rising to his feet he placed his hands on her shoulders.
“There will come a time when you will be offered that choice.”
“There will?” she said, her heart leaping. “When? I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Wait, are you lying to me?”
“I’m disappointed,” he muttered, his eyes darkening. “Why would you insult me so blatantly?”
“I, uh, I don’t know you. How can you expect me to trust you when you kidnapped me and brought me here?”
“Ah, that’s a fair point. You will be given a choice. That is a promise that will not be betrayed by me or the ruler. We all live under the law. You can—there is a phrase on Earth that escapes me. Something to do with money.”
“You can take it to the bank?”
“Yes, you can take it to the bank.”
“Thank God. Oh, do I call you sir or Zaroff?”
“Sir, during times of discipline and training, but otherwise, Zaroff.”
“Training? You said that before. What sort of training?”
“You will be taught how to please the ruler, and how to behave.”
“Are you talking about sex?” she whispered, afraid to say the word out loud. “Is that what this is about?”
“Partly. You will be trained as any potential wife would be trained, at least in our world.”
“I don’t even know what to say. When will I meet this ruler?”
“You’ll be presented when you’re ready.”
“I’ll never be ready.”
“Life is full of surprises, Abby. Now I must go.”
“Wait! You can’t leave me yet. I have more questions.”
“I don’t take orders,” he said sternly. “You must not speak to me in such a manner.”
“Sorry. Please, may I ask one more question, Zaroff? It’s important.”
Trained by the Alien Page 2