“You weren't quiet at all but you were very determined,” I said with a fond smile.
“You…” she punched my shoulder lightly then sighed. “It wasn't just me. You were just as determined.”
I laughed. “I was. I admit it. You’re a very sexy and very desirable woman.”
“As sexy and desirable as Lorca?” Her glance was coy.
“Naughty.” I wagged a finger at her. “But, in your own way, yes.”
She sighed again and cuddled in closer. “That’s nice. I feel all warm and snuggley.”
“You’re a snuggley person. The man who marries you will be lucky indeed.”
“I wish it could be you.”
“You mustn't think that. We won’t ever see each other again after this.”
“I know. I didn’t actually mean it. It’s just…”
“I understand. I feel the same way, too.”
We snuggled down, my arm around her shoulder and her arm and leg draped possessively across me.
“Lights out, Julian,” I called sleepily.
Chapter 24
We gathered in the dining room after breakfast. I was puzzled why we kept having meetings either there or in the kitchen until it occurred to me that the sitting room was too overdone for serious discussions. Flerrionna had been right and I made a mental note to review my design strategy when we got back to Geretimal. When everyone was together, I explained my plan.
“I’m not sitting in a steegee for umpteen hours while you go gallivanting off,” Jarmasin declared.
Lorca and Lashak’ka agreed. I sighed. Trust them to be difficult.
“Look,” I said reasonably. “We’re landing in a disused quarry. We’ll probably have to fight our way through trees and undergrowth. The ground will be uneven and wet, possibly boggy. Unless your legs are protected and you’ve got reasonably stout shoes you’re going to get scratched and bruised at best and, at worst, you’ll end up with a ricked ankle and I’ll have to carry you.”
“Do you live in a jungle?” Lorca said sarcastically.
“I don’t care,” Jarmasin said. “I’m not staying in the steegee and that’s final.”
I knew when I was beaten. “Okay. It’s your funeral. At least see if you can find something to protect your legs and feet. Oh, and it’ll probably be cold so bring a jacket.”
“We could always borrow a pair of Triss’s pants,” Lashak’ka said and giggled at her own daring.
Even I was forced to laugh at the vision of the curvaceous Lorca trying to struggle into a pair of Triss’s ultra-tight pants.
“I’m probably worrying over nothing,” I said.
“You’re just trying to look after us,” Lorca said and stroked my cheek. “It’s your world and you know it best.”
They started to ask me about what my home was like. I tried to explain but realised that my concept of a hill or a tree or a house or a street probably wasn't the same as theirs.
“Crawford, Triss would like to speak to you. She sounds quite upset.”
On impulse I had asked Julian to relay the discussion to Triss.
“Okay, Julian. I’ll go and see what she wants.”
I took the pain gun with me, just in case.
“You won’t need that,” was her opening remark. “I promise I won’t come near you unless you ask me.”
I looked at her closely. She seemed sincere so I decided to take a risk and put the gun away.
“You wanted to speak to me,” I said gently.
“Is it true? You’re all going to Earth?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to leave me here?”
“Yes.”
“On my own?”
“Of course. Why should I take you?”
“But you can’t. You can’t just leave me here alone.”
“Why not? I can’t take you with me.”
“But…” She took a step towards me, realised what she was doing and dropped to her knees. The tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. “Please don’t leave me here alone.”
“I’ll say it again, why not? You have everything you need. I’ll even open the trivee room for you.”
“It’s not that. It’s… I couldn’t stand being here knowing I was alone.”
She buried her face in her hands. I suddenly realised she was very young. I’m not sure that I would be happy with the idea of being left orbiting the moon of an uninhabitable planet in an unknown solar system gazillions of light years from home. In my mind I’d associated her with the other girls but the truth was she was even more of an innocent than I was.
“Triss, I’d like to take you with me but I can’t take the risk. It’s my world we’re going to. I know how you need to behave. The others will do what I say because they trust me. You don’t. You think I’m not fit to inhabit this universe. If you think like that, how can I trust you to do as I say? And be assured, my world is a dangerous place if you don’t know what you’re doing.”
She raised her head from her hands, her face a picture of misery.
“I… I was wrong.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I did what you wanted. I’ve been talking to Julian and I’ve been thinking. I’ve been thinking about what you said about courage.” She paused.
I perked up. She really did seem to be genuinely contrite. But I couldn’t relax yet. As Hermes had said, she might be naïve but she wasn't stupid. It was still possible this was a clever act.
“You remember what you said to me after the Ball?” she continued in a rush. “You asked where we would each be the following day. I didn’t understand what you meant then but I do now. You meant that I would be safe in the house but you would have to go out and face your adversaries again although you didn’t know who they were or what they might do to you. You would have to stand up and do that silly waving and smiling thing knowing that you could be attacked at any moment. You were like a decoy.” She blushed and dropped her eyes. “There’s a story about Paragonimffet where she and her band are trapped and one of her followers offers to lead their pursuers astray to let the others escape. He knows he’ll be killed but he volunteers anyway. Paragonimffet praises his bravery. You’re like that man. I see that now.” She looked up hopefully.
The mind of the female teen works in the strangest ways. I had never considered my situation in that light but I could see there was a certain odd logic to it. She had managed to fit my predicament into terms she understood. It wasn't really the conclusion I’d hoped she’d come to but, if she was being honest, it might mean she would pay attention to me. However, she still wasn’t seeing me as the leader and she still thought of herself as the embodiment of some heroine from history ready to leap into action at the drop of a hat and I couldn’t take the risk that she’d take umbrage at something or someone and lash out instinctively.
“I’m pleased you’ve been thinking. And I’m even more pleased that you’ve decided I’m not public enemy number one. And I believe you mean what you say. However, I still have a problem. It’s not enough that you don’t despise me any more. I have to be sure you’ll do as I say or, more importantly, don’t do things if I tell you not to. How can you persuade me of that?”
She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to mine.
“You could chastise me,” she said carefully.
I managed to keep the shock off my face but only just.
“How would that help?”
“On my world, when a younger person makes a serious mistake, they can atone for it by volunteering to be whipped in public. It is taken as an act of true contrition.”
“Oh. And you would be willing to do that? To let me whip you in public?”
Her eyes told how hard this was for her but she nodded.
“Yes.” Her voice was shaky.
“How… how severe should the beating be?”
“That depends. Sometimes it’s symbolic but at others it can be very severe.”
“And how severe should yours be?”
She s
wallowed. “Until you’re certain of my loyalty.”
“I see.”
I was stalling. My mind was awhirl. One part of me was aghast at the idea of whipping her, another part accepted that I would have to do it and yet a third part, one that I was savagely repressing, was cheering in eager anticipation.
“What sort of implement should I use?”
“May I?”
I nodded. She rose and dug out a large leather belt from her luggage. She laid it over her outstretched hands and slowly walked towards me. I stretched out my hand to take the belt then hesitated. It looked heavy. It would hurt.
This was the moment of truth. If I took it, I was committed. I would have to use it on her and I would have to mean it. I looked into her eyes. She was trembling like a leaf but her gaze was steady. Solemnly, I lifted the belt, it was heavy, and slung it over my shoulder.
“We will go to my stateroom. We will go via the dining room. You will walk in front of me with your hands clasped behind your back. Is that acceptable?”
She nodded silently. I stepped aside and gestured for her to proceed. She took a deep breath then, hands clasped behind her and head bowed, slowly stepped out into the corridor.
“Julian, free all doors, please.”
“Done.”
As I’d suspected the others were still where I’d left them. Their heads swung round as Triss and I entered and Lashak’ka gasped.
“I will be in my suite. I am not to be disturbed,” I announced to the shocked group.
As I turned to leave, I caught the cat-like smile on Lorca’s face.
Doubts assailed me as the door to my suite hissed quietly shut. What did I do now? There was a feeling of ritual about it all and I was convinced I had to do certain things in their proper order. If I didn’t I couldn’t foretell what the consequences would be.
“This is a private matter between you and me,” I said, watching Triss’s face carefully. “That’s why we will do it here. However, I think the others are well aware of what will happen so that takes care of the public aspect. Agreed?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Something about her attitude made me believe I had it right.
“Now, you said a public whipping was traditional. Presumably there was a certain formula.”
“Sir?”
“I mean are they carried out standing? Is the transgressor bound? Are any parts of the body off-limits? That sort of thing.”
“Normally the person stands naked on a platform and their hands are bound above their heads. Sometimes their feet are also tied.”
“Have you ever been beaten before?”
“No, Sir.”
“In that case we’ll keep it to your bottom and thighs. Get undressed.”
I smacked the belt against my leg for emphasis then wished I hadn’t. It was sore. She fumbled at the fasteners and pulled her clothes off. Naked she looked even slimmer. Her waist was tiny; I could almost circle it with my hands. Her frame might be thin but her muscles were firm and toned. They moved sensuously under her fine golden skin. She could never be called voluptuous but her delicate, elegant curves were decidedly feminine. Her bottom, as I’d noticed before, was small but high and round and firm. Despite the situation or, if I was to be brutally honest with myself, partly because of it, I felt myself becoming aroused. This was not sexual, I told myself severely.
I had been watching her so intently I’d lost the place and suddenly realised she was naked and waiting my instructions. Hastily I pulled round a chaise longue.
“Lean on that,” I instructed.
She bent stiffly, leaning on straight arms with her back arched.
“Triss, Triss,” I said quietly. “That’s hardly good enough. You offered to do this to convince me of your sincerity. I’m hardly seeing that. Come on. Dip your back. Offer me your bottom. Persuade me you really mean this.”
She did as I bid, dipping her back and sticking her taut little bottom up into the air.
“Good girl,” I said encouragingly. “Bend your knees a little.”
I took the buckle end of the belt in one hand and stood off to one side, mentally measuring distances. I raised my hand to shoulder level then brought it diagonally down across my body. The loose end of the belt whooshed through the air and landed perfectly across the tight globes of her bottom. The crack, as leather met flesh, was deafening. A number of things happened at the same time. Triss screamed, leapt, clutched her bottom and fell forward over the arm of the chaise longue and the belt slipped from my nerveless fingers. I was aghast… appalled. I had meant to give her a firm smack not flay her. The intention was punishment not mutilation. I bent and retrieved the belt. As I did, the reason for the severity of the blow dawned on me. I’d used the full length of the belt and, whatever speed my hand had been moving at, the other end, two and a half feet away, had been travelling significantly faster. Hastily, I coiled some of the length around my fist.
Triss was still draped over the arm of the chaise longue. She had let go her bottom and her hands were clutching the seat. She was still sobbing. Across the cheeks of her bottom was a wide vivid red band with sharp edges. Fortunately there was no blood. By sheer good luck I’d landed a perfect blow. Her buttocks clenched and relaxed rhythmically as she tried to ease the throbbing pain. It was an overwhelmingly erotic view and I became instantly hard. Lust, however, vied with compassion. The blow must have hurt her terribly and the shock must have been just as bad. I opened my mouth to apologise but shut it immediately. I couldn’t show any weakness. I couldn’t admit it was an accident. This could be the defining moment. Now I would find out if her offer really was sincere.
“Take your position again.” My voice sounded harsh even to my ears.
She stopped sobbing and her body went tense. Inch by inch, she levered herself up from the settee until she had resumed her original position with her head down, her back dipped and her bottom in the air. Mentally I saluted her courage. She didn’t know what I would do next. In fact all she could anticipate was another blow like the first. She knew that and still she obeyed. It was the ultimate act of surrender and, in that moment, I knew she was sincere. Still, there were forms to be followed and, the devil in me said, there were distinct erotic possibilities. I stoked a palm over her bottom. The heat from her skin was incredible.
“Spread your feet wider,” I said.
I took my time and made sure I didn’t hit her too hard. It was easier with the belt shortened. I hit her bottom across the original welt. I hit the soft undercurve of her buttocks, the backs of her thighs, even the delicate insides of her thighs. I left no more red welts but her skin began to glow; first a golden orange then a flaming red. It was as if someone had lit a fire inside her. She moaned, she wailed, she cried, she wriggled, she writhed but at no time did she show any signs of abandoning her submissive position. I don’t normally find weeping women arousing but there was something about her tone, not to mention the delightful motions of her bottom, that appealed to some primal, primitive instinct in me. I was as hard as steel.
Periodically I’d stopped and run my hand over her skin. The sensation of the heat radiating from her smooth skin with the toned muscles beneath was an erotic experience in itself. It was only sheer willpower that prevented my hand from slipping lower. I was panting with lust. I gritted my teeth, fighting the need to take her. And then I could resist no more.
Like a thief in the night, my hand stole between her spread legs and caressed softly up the inside of her thigh to the fleshy junction between. The effect was electric. She gave a low moan, bent her knees and thrust herself at me. I stopped in disbelief. She couldn’t really be aroused by this, could she? I must be mistaken. I touched her again and this time there was no doubt, she was dripping. She moaned again and tried to capture my exploring finger. I dropped the belt and frantically tore at my trousers and underpants. I didn’t even try to take them off. As soon as they were at my ankles, I shuffled forward, eased myself in and pushed. She screamed, braced h
erself against the arm of the chaise longue and thrust back, burying me deep inside her. She was so tight that, if she hadn’t been so wet, it would have been painful. As it was a bolt of exquisite agony shot through me. She orgasmed as I embedded myself fully in her and, as her hot hard abused little bottom met my hips, I nearly did, too.
I was aflame with lust. All rational thought fled. I pushed her forward until she collapsed over the arm of the chaise longue then proceeded to fuck her unmercifully. She seemed to orgasm continuously although I was barely aware of it. I fucked her for what felt like hours yet was still too short a time. As I felt my climax approaching, I leaned over her back supporting myself on extended arms and thrust mightily. She bit the seat to muffle her cries and her fingers scrabbled for purchase on the taut fabric. Then she passed out. I gave a final few compulsive twitches and sanity gradually returned. I was dripping with sweat and fighting for breath. The blood pounded in my ears. All I wanted to do was collapse on top of her but knew I couldn’t do that. With a groan, I slowly straightened and pulled out. A flood of liquid followed, trickling down her legs and dripping on the floor. I stepped back and promptly fell over. I’d forgotten about my trousers. I freed myself and stripped off the rest of my clothes, lifted her gently from the chaise and carried her to the bed. She stirred and curled an arm around my neck but didn’t awaken. Julian directed me to the first aid box where there was some soothing balm. Armed with that, a damp cloth and towels, I gently washed her and spread balm over the area I’d abused. She sighed contentedly, a beatific smile on her face. When I returned from the bathroom, having showered, she opened her eyes and patted the bed. As I lay down beside her, she snuggled up to me and threw an arm and a leg across my body.
“I love you,” she said with total candour and absolute sincerity.
She snuggled into my neck, sighed contentedly and went to sleep.
I didn’t. Oh, Lord, why did it keep happening? First Flerrionna, then Jarmasin, then Tansy and Lorca and now Triss. And what about Cherevine and Ymar? I’d apparently satisfied both of them though love hadn’t been mentioned. Even still, I didn’t flatter myself that I was the galaxy’s greatest lover. I’d certainly learned a lot about women over the last couple of weeks but, when I thought about it, the one common element in most of my couplings was a total lack of finesse. Other than Flerrionna, Ymar and, to some extent, Lorca, I hadn’t so much made love to them as been caught up in a mutual bout of unbridled lust. Hmm. Perhaps that was the distinguishing characteristic of a Lottery Winner; the ability to induce unquenchable lust in women. No, that couldn’t be right. Back on Earth my love life had been steady but hardly spectacular. Oh, well. I was too tired to think about it just now.
I Won A Spaceship Page 50