“Don’t.” His voice was strained. “I will deal with her.”
How is he still on his feet? A human male would be on the ground, vomiting. One thing she knew how to do was bring a human man to his knees.
He wasn’t human.
Cold fear crept up her spine.
He regarded her, breathing carefully.
“I changed my mind. I want her.” He turned to his companion.
The other man frowned, then glanced again at his datapad.
“She’s a seven for penetration width and a six for depth. You’re a 10, at least. There are others here…” He gestured across the room.
“She’s a seven for penetration until pain. She can stretch beyond that. It might hurt a little, but after what she just did, a little pain might be good for her.”
She’d lost her courage and was staring at the floor, trying not to shake with terror.
“You told me to pick one. I’m picking her.”
The second man nodded. “Very well.” He turned to one of the several people standing behind him and made a motion. The guard started to unfasten her bindings.
“Stop. I’m not about to give her another chance to hurt me. Do you have any morphicwire?”
It dawned on her that this very big alien that she’d just hurt had purchased her with the intent to return the hurt. She forced herself to look up.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry!”
The guard arrived with two long lengths of a thin cable. In a heartbeat her arms were released and she was face down on the floor. The alien folded her feet, still attached to the spreader bar, up toward her head. Her arms were pulled behind and connected to the bar, and she was neatly hogtied. But he wasn’t done. He slipped the end of one piece of cable under her stomach and wrapped it around her torso several times, securing the ends to the spreader bar where her hands and feet connected. Finally, he gathered her loose hair in his meaty hand, pulling her head up and as far back as it could go, and secured it, showing no gentleness whatsoever.
The real surprise was when she felt a twang, like someone had just flicked the cable with a finger, and suddenly, the entire length of it tightened. The wraps around her stomach constricted so much she had to gasp for air. Her head was painfully yanked back further.
He stood, grabbed the bar, and lifted her effortlessly off the floor. Though she hung by wrists and ankles, the cable that circled her waist took much of her weight.
“You aren’t as sorry as you’re going to be.”
They moved forward, Mena swinging from his hand like a tidy little gasping package, down several halls, past the startled looks of other aliens, finally emerging into the hot sunshine.
Mik'kal
It was fortunate his apartment was near the hall where the auction had taken place. He’d never tell his new slave, but her kick had been very effective, and he was still in quite a bit of pain. By the time he arrived at the large stone building he was starting to regret his hasty purchase. Perhaps he should have looked for a more docile slave.
Perhaps he should have stood up to Dirac Ortan.
Nevertheless, he was stuck with this one. He had to admit, seeing her tightly bound and decidedly uncomfortable was a pleasing sight.
As a senior minister and permanent resident in the building, he had one of the nicer apartments. He carried his purchase inside to the cool darkness, moving through the anteroom, past the pillars that flanked the doorway, and into the expansive main room that held his enormous bed and a large worktable under the two front windows. He paused to contemplate his next move.
“Please untie me,” she whispered, still hanging in his hand.
“Shh,” he responded without looking down. “First rule is no talking without permission.”
“I’m sorry I hit you, but I was scared and angry. Please untie me. This hurts so bad!”
He set her on the floor, ignoring her pleas. His biggest problem was how to manage a slave here. He needed a place to keep her, restraints, and discipline items.
And maybe some protective armor for his dick.
He glanced down at the tightly bound woman wearing only a thin, see-through shift. It had gotten bunched up under the morphicwire, and the remaining length flipped up and onto her back revealed a soft, smooth, pleasingly round ass. He walked behind her to get a better look. The spreader bar held her knees apart, and he was treated to the sight of her holes, the larger one partly obscured by her plump folds, and the smaller one, a wrinkled flower just waiting to be opened wide. He knew from looking at human women at the auction that some had hair between their legs, and some didn’t. He didn’t know why they varied, but he was pleased his human didn’t have any.
He forced himself back to the present issue. As much as he wanted to keep her tightly bound, that wasn’t realistic. But all he had was a spreader bar and two lengths of morphicwire.
And a small room; a closet, really, though most closets were concealed within walls and only visible when opened. At present, it was almost empty, and had a sturdy door. He pulled it open, removing the few items inside.
He strode over to his new slave who was whimpering quietly on the carpet. He didn’t even know her name. She opened her eyes as he approached. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she stayed silent.
“What is your name?”
“I guess it’s Slave,” she spat out.
He cocked an eyebrow. “That’s convenient, isn’t it? Well, Slave, your temporary quarters are ready.”
He lifted her again, enjoying the screech as her muscles strained, and entered the closet. It was about two meters square, big enough that she could move around and change positions a little. He knelt down next to her, untying the rope from her hair, then easing her head down as she groaned. He released the rope around her body and took time to unfold her legs until she was flat on the floor on her stomach. He unclipped her ankles from the spreader bar and stood.
“What about my arms?” she demanded.
“Your arms stay right where they are for now. I will consider releasing them if you tell me your name.”
She rolled onto her side and struggled to a sitting position.
“Fuck you.”
“Yes, very soon. But for now, here are some things to think about. You are here because humans had the hubris to think they could take over the planet—”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that!” she screamed.
“Do not interrupt me ever again,” he replied darkly, pinning her with his gaze. He was pleased to see her eyes drop. “After you realized conquering us would fail, your people threw you and the others away, sacrificed so they could live in peace. You’re violent for no good reason. You destroyed your own planet! For that alone, humans should be punished. Since I cannot punish them personally, I will punish you instead. Look at me.”
As he towered over her, she dragged her eyes up, locking on his, unblinking. He wondered what she was thinking. Perhaps she was contemplating how to show obedience.
Then he chuckled silently. Who was he kidding? He hoped she was planning to slowly kill him. That would be a whole lot more fun. More perhaps, than he’d anticipated.
“I did not want a slave. I still do not want a slave. So, don’t think you can win me over with tears and begging. Obedience will bring pain. Disobedience, though, brings more pain. I suggest you remember that.”
Her eyes never wavered from his, though she might have paled a little.
Turning on his heel, he walked out, slamming the heavy door behind him. Through the thick wood, he heard a long string of screamed curses. He smiled as he settled behind his desk to place some orders.
Oh, yes. Despite what he’d just said to her, this might be fun, after all.
His nirza agreed.
Mena
She was alone for the first time since she’d been forced out of her cabin yesterday. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Her view of the entire universe had been upended in one day.
She wavered b
etween grief and anger, between despair and hysteria.
He owned her? As in, he could legally do anything to her and prevent her from doing anything back? She couldn’t put her mind around the idea of one person owning another. She knew Earth’s history, of course, but that had been a long time ago.
He had a surprise coming if he expected tears and begging, or even obedience. He said he hadn’t wanted a slave. Well, she didn’t want to be one, either. Maybe she could make him sorry he bought her, and he’d send her back to the humans.
A tiny voice in her head told her that wasn’t going to happen, but she squashed that down beneath a thick layer of anger.
She cursed herself for every vid she’d watched, every dirty book she’d read, and every time she’d had sex with Daniel and Addy. If she’d just hidden her—proclivities—better, she wouldn’t be here.
Scenes with Daniel and Addy had been carefully negotiated. ‘Punishments’ were really ‘funishments,’ and nothing that would leave marks for more than a couple of hours.
There would be no negotiations now. The punishments would be real. And limits? They’d be whatever he decided they’d be. This wasn’t a fantasy anymore. This was her life.
Thinking of Addy finally put her over the edge. She struggled to hold back the tears. Was she ever going to see her again? She hoped Addy ended up someplace better than this, with someone who wanted her and would maybe even care for her.
If Mena ever saw the captain of the Hope II again, she’d slit his throat in a heartbeat—the coward.
Her shoulders ached fiercely from being pulled back for so long. Knowing he wasn’t going to like it and not caring, she worked her way to her knees, then wedged her hands under her butt. She managed to shimmy them until they were under her thighs, holding in her gasps of pain, before falling back on her butt. It only took a moment to pass the bonds under her feet and bring her hands up in front. Her mother had taught her a few survival tricks because her neighborhood had not been the safest. That’s where she’d learned how to plant a foot directly between a guy’s legs, something she’d had to do more than once.
She stretched her shoulders and arms and rolled her head to get the kinks out of her neck. The closet was just big enough she could lean in the corner and stretch her long legs out diagonally. She hoped she didn’t have to sleep in here. On the other hand, sleeping in here meant not sleeping with him.
The release of pain also unleashed her emotions. She pulled her knees up, put her still-bound hands around them, and let herself cry. But just for a moment.
She ws going to stay strong.
Time passed slowly. She was hungry and had to pee. She’d dozed on and off, waking from nightmares of horrible unseen things she couldn’t remember once she was awake.
When the door did open, she was asleep, and it took her by complete surprise. She let out a short cry as he appeared in the frame, looking larger and more menacing than she remembered. He’d traded his tunic and robe for a soft sleeveless shirt that did nothing to hide the bulging muscles from his shoulders down to his wrists. Instead of trousers, he wore a pair of soft black pants. Apparently, leisurewear looked the same all across the galaxy.
His black eyes glanced down at her hands wrapped around her knees.
She had wanted him to make the first move, but she was desperate.
“I need to pee.”
“Ask me.”
“What?”
“Ask for permission to pee.”
“What? You’re out of your mind!”
The door slammed shut. She held out a minute longer, but her bladder was getting ready to let go, whether she wanted to or not.
“Please, let me pee!”
Nothing.
He was going to make this as humiliating as possible. She gritted her teeth and called out.
“Please, may I be allowed to pee?”
The door opened. “There, that wasn’t too hard. Now, let’s polish that.”
She stared in disbelief.
“I have all afternoon. Do you?” He smirked, and she wanted to hit him.
That’s how you ended up here. Not a good idea.
“Try that again, on your knees, using the proper form of address.”
She almost tried to hit him anyway. Instead, barely containing her disgust and loathing, she folded herself onto her knees. “May I pee— um, what is your name?”
He laughed. “My name is Master.”
Master. A title she’d fantasized about giving someone for years. Someone she trusted, who cared for her well-being, and if she was lucky, someone she loved. This bastard had just taken that fantasy and turned it into something incredibly ugly.
She held in her fury, shaking with the effort.
“May I be allowed to pee… Master?” The word stuck in her throat.
“Very good. This way.” He pointed to a doorway along a short hall that led from the main room to someplace light and open.
She struggled to her feet, padded across the thick carpet, and through the doorway, which had no door. She stared at the black bowl in front of her. It was curved in on both sides, and it took a moment to realize she should straddle it, with her legs placed in the curves. She let go with a sigh of relief. It rinsed and dried her just the way human toilets did, and when she was done, she stepped back and turned around.
He was watching her, leaning in the doorway. While it wasn’t strange to have bathrooms men and women shared on a crowded ship, it was rude to actually watch someone.
He didn’t move. She stood awkwardly, clasping her hands, forcing herself to look him in the eye.
“Done?”
She nodded.
“That’s, ‘yes, sir’.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, almost inaudibly.
“Louder.”
“YES! SIR!” The small room amplified her shout. His face grew dark, and he grabbed her arm, hauling her back out to the main room. She stumbled across the carpet. The words “I’m sorry” started to bubble up, but she shoved them back down. She wasn’t sorry, and she wasn’t going to pretend she was, just to make him happy.
He dragged her toward the sumptuous bed, which jutted out from the wall. It sat high enough that two polished stone steps ran all the way around. From the steps at each of the corners rose pillars, connected to each other by graceful arches overhead. He stepped on the lowest step, then settled on the end of the bed, hauling her over his lap.
He was going to spank her, and this was would not be be the kind of spanking she’d had before. She was terrified.
7
Mena
She was draped across one meaty leg, and his other leg was over her thighs, pinning her down and preventing any kicking. Her hands rested on the higher of the two steps, and since they were still tied together, she wouldn’t be able to reach back to shield herself. He tugged at her shift to lift it, but it was stuck under her, so he ripped it all the way up her back, leaving her bare skin exposed to his gaze.
She tensed and prepared herself for pain, but instead, she felt a warm hand brushing her skin. The contact made her shiver.
“Cold?”
His mocking tone pissed her off.
“I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t ripped the only thing I have to wear!”
“Perhaps I would prefer you naked.”
“Perhaps I could kick you in the nuts again when you’re sleeping.”
The gentle movements stopped. She whimpered, knowing his hand had become something more ominous, something that would bring her pain. The dichotomy of pleasure and pain was something she’d read about and thought about for years, but right now, it left her completely off-balance and terrified.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to spank you, so you are in the proper frame of mind to listen to my rules. This is not a punishment for getting your hands in front of you, for yelling at me, or for kicking me. Those will come later.”
“Wait, what?” She twisted around to look at his face. “You’re spanking
me so I’ll listen to your rules? How about you just tell me what they are, and I’ll listen, without the spanking?”
“Because you will feel much more submissive after a thorough spanking. Much less likely to argue or roll your eyes. Much more likely to call me Master and Sir.”
“But—”
“This is not open to discussion. I’m going to spank you now, then tell you the rules. Sometime later, that cane that I promised will make an appearance for your punishment.”
She opened her mouth to protest just as the warm hand lifted off her back and came crashing back down on the soft skin of her butt.
“Ow! Stop, you motherf—”
Another spank landed on top of the first, doubling the pain. Daniel’s spankings had never been this hard. This was a whole new level of pain. This jackass—no way in hell was she going to call him ‘Master,’ even in her mind—gathered her hair so tight in his unoccupied hand, she thought it was going to come out of her scalp. He pulled her head up, and now she really couldn’t move.
He rained down blow after blow, one on top of another until that spot was scorched, then moved on to fresh skin. This wasn’t like the fantasy spankings in her books and vids. It was excruciating, she couldn’t escape, and there was exactly zero that was sexy. She called him every name she could think of, knowing it probably wasn’t a good idea, but unable to hold back. When he moved to the backs of her thighs, she thought she was going to die. She was screaming, crying, pleading, and telling him she’d kill him slowly when she got the chance.
The blows stopped, and he eased his hand from her hair. Her head hung down over his knee as she sobbed and hiccuped, slowly relaxing again. It was over.
She’d survived.
“So, here is a rule we’re going to implement right now. When I spank you, for pleasure or punishment, you are free to moan, cry, and scream. You may even say, ‘please.’ But you will not utter any other words. You may not beg me to stop, you may not try to bargain, and you certainly may not call me names or threaten me. If you break this rule, the punishment starts over. Do you understand?”
Tribute: Captives of Kazir Page 4