by Joanna Wylde
“Your men are dead,” Logan said, his voice devoid of emotion. A wave of alarm spread across the group of prisoners. A couple of the women burst out in tears, but others remained suspiciously dry-eyed.
More than one unhappy marriage had just been dissolved, Bethany thought.
“We didn’t want to kill them all,” Logan continued. “We had gathered them in the third dome and were holding them there. They found some weapons and attacked us. We had no choice but to blow the dome open to space.”
Bethany shivered. It was a quick but unpleasant death; one she had feared all her life. Anyone who lived in space feared a loss of pressure.
“I tell you this because I want you to understand your situation,” Logan continued. “We don’t want to kill you. I consider many of you to be as much victims of your men as we were. I can see from some of your faces that you don’t believe me. Ask yourselves this… If we didn’t want to spare your lives, why didn’t we just blow up the entire station? We had pressure suits and explosives; it would have been the safest and easiest way for us to make our escape.
“We didn’t do that because we have a sense of humanity, of dignity,” he continued. “Unlike your people, we respect life. But I speak for all of the former slaves here when I tell you I’m not willing to go back into captivity. If we have to kill all of you and your children to escape, we will. I would suggest that you be very, very careful over the next few days. You will do exactly as we tell you, and you will do it when we tell you. Do not push us.”
The room fell silent, except for the occasional whimper from one of the captives. Bethany shivered; she had no doubt Logan meant what he said.
Jess stepped forward. His hair was slicked back with sweat, and she was struck again by the resemblance between him and Logan. Were they brothers? Had they known each other before arriving at the mining station? It was uncanny—they could have been twins.
“Bethany, you’ll be coming with me,” Jess said. All around her, the women started whispering. For a moment, she considered defying him, but the look on his face told her she would regret it if she did. She stood and started slowly walking toward Jess. Several gave her looks of sympathy, but even more gave her looks of hatred.
They thought she was part of the revolt, she realized. In that instant she knew she could never be safe with them again.
They would kill her.
Jess took her arm, leading her from the room. She soon found herself out of the barracks, surrounded by jubilant, newly-freed slaves. She knew the room well, had brought the food carts here every day and watched as the men donned their pressure suits, and cleaned up after them in this room.
Today was different, though. Today there were no guards.
Instead there were at least 75 men watching her with hungry eyes. She recognized many of them, but they looked different now—more threatening. Her eyes darted quickly around the room. In one corner of the room there were bodies, laid out in neat rows. Ten of them.
“They died in the revolt,” Jess said quietly, his left hand holding her upper arm tightly. He walked them quickly through the watching crowd of men, right hand resting lightly on his blaster. “We were lucky; your men were taken almost completely off guard. Six of our dead died after we were almost finished. One of the guards got back in here with a control wand. They hadn’t had their implants taken out yet.”
How the hell had he gotten rid of his, she wondered? They must have removed it in the mine. She thought of all those pain pills she’d smuggled in to him and gasped.
“You used those drugs for your friends, to remove the implants.”
“Of course I did,” he said reasonably. “I was lucky enough to be unconscious when Bragan operated on me. They needed something for the pain. Every single one of those men had to go back to work after Bragan finished with them.”
They passed out of the slave quarters as he spoke, then they were in the warren of storage rooms that made up the rest of the mining complex. Jess pulled her along, without speaking, down first one hall and then another. Finally he stopped in front of a room and opened the door.
“This is my room for now,” he said. “You’ll be staying here. I’ve installed a lock inside as well as outside. Nobody will be able to get in unless you let them.”
“Aren’t you worried that I’ll lock you out?” she asked.
“You’ll get hungry eventually,” he replied lightly. He looked happier than she’d ever seen him, she thought wistfully, and even more handsome than before.
He pulled her into the room and the door slid shut behind them. She looked around, noting that he had stacked the room’s contents—boxes of some kind of mechanical equipment—against one wall. Along the other was a pallet made of several blankets layered together.
“Why have you brought me here?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. He gave a bark of laughter.
“Don’t be naive,” he said. “You’re mine now. I’ve claimed you, and every man left on this asteroid knows it.”
“So, you’re going to rape me?”
Jess looked at her steadily.
“I’m not going to do anything you don’t agree to,” he said. “But I don’t think you’re going to fight me, not if you’re honest with yourself. When you thought you were going to die—when there weren’t any consequences to your actions—you wanted to be with me. What’s different now?”
“You used me to betray my people,” she whispered. He laughed again, shaking his head.
“Your people?” he asked. “Sounds to me like your people would have executed you just as soon as they found your father. They were going to kill you if I couldn’t go back to work, right? Excuse me if I’m off here, but can you explain exactly what about their treatment of you makes them your people?”
“What about the other women?” she asked, unwilling to acknowledge he was right. “The women aren’t guilty…at least not all of them. What’s going to happen to them?”
“Logan’s working on that,” he said. “We decided it would be hypocritical for me to tell the men they couldn’t have them if I was taking you. But we’re not animals, you know. We’re not Pilgrims. I don’t think any of us believes in slavery as an institution,” he added mockingly. “We’re a little too familiar with it. Logan wanted me to leave you alone, but I will never do that. I’ve known you were mine from the first moment I saw you. I’ll be damned if I let anyone stand between us.”
She closed her eyes, wondering what to say next. He seemed so different from the man she had come to know in the slave quarters. There he had been weak, polite. He was much larger standing up; she hadn’t realized how tall he was. He towered over her by at least a foot.
He was massive, too. She’d seen his body, touched those muscles on his shoulders and thighs. But she’d had no idea what he could do with them. His arms were strong, roped with muscle. He’d used them to kill men. Men who would have killed her, she realized. Men who had killed slaves without thinking twice.
Their blood stained his clothing…
He closed in on her, pulling her into his arms.
“I’ve waited for this forever,” he said, kissing the side of her neck softly. “Do you have any idea what kind of hell I’ve been through? Now I’m a free man, with a woman of my own. I can’t tell you how much this means to me, Bethany. Just being alone here with you seemed like an impossible dream. Now we can build a life together.”
She tried to ignore him, focus on the things he had done. He was violent man, a controlling man who was taking away her freedom.
But none of that mattered as he touched her.
His hands clutched her shoulders, then ran up and down her arms. He seemed to be reassuring himself she was real, that this was really happening.
He kissed her neck again, then nibbled his way to her lips. She expected an assault, a follow- up to the brutal kisses he’d given her outside her father’s apartment. But he was so soft, so gentle. His lips nipped at hers, coaxing them to respond to his to
uch. She shivered, and he reached his arms around her. Her body brushed against his lightly. The tips of her breasts touched his chest, and the bulge of his swelling cock grazed her stomach.
She remembered what that monster felt like inside her body. So good…
Against her will she responded, opening her lips just a bit. She could taste him now. Salty with sweat. He smelled sweaty, too. Normally she would have found it distasteful, but there was something so masculine about his smell. Something raw and new.
She wanted to taste him. Bethany opened her lips further and her tongue darted out. He stilled, then pulled her forcefully against his body. Now he was giving her the kiss she expected; the ravaging follow-up to his earlier touch. He was hungry for her, he wanted her, and he was going to take her. She could feel it in the tension of his arms, the thrust of his cock against her soft belly. She shivered, moaning deep within her throat. It was a moan of need and fear combined, a moan of submission. In her heart she knew he was right; she did belong to him. A thrill ran through her as she realized he belonged to her, too.
He groaned in return, every pore of his body oozing masculine triumph. The captor was about to take his spoils.
Then he pulled away from her, and put his hands on her shoulders.
“I’ve been thinking about this for along time,” he said softly. His dark blue eyes burned, like those of a being possessed by some dark force. Slowly he started pressing down against her shoulders. She whimpered as she realized what he intended.
“On your knees,” he whispered. “I want you to start on your knees. I’ve thought about your lips every moment, dreamt of having them on me every night. I’ve already pleasured you with my mouth. Will you do the same for me?”
She shivered, remembering how it had felt when he’d kissed her between her legs. It had been hot and pulsing, pleasure and pain more exquisite than anything she’d ever imagined. She understood all too well why he wanted her to do the same to him.
Without speaking, she dropped to her knees before him. He leaned back against the door, both hands pressed flat against it. She looked up at him and his eyes burned through her, feverish in his need. Then she turned her attention to the bulge straining his pants.
Raising one finger, she traced the length of it through the cloth. It was so strong and warm, it leapt under her touch, a creature with a mind all its own.
She could feel its shape. There was the shaft, straight and true. It stretched upward toward his belly, narrowing just a bit before her fingers reached the flare at the end. The head was broad and rounded. It had seemed too big as it pressed into her body earlier and it seemed even bigger now. How had she managed to take it into her womb? And how would she manage to take it into her mouth?
She remembered performing this same act on her aging husband with a shudder of disgust, but this was different. As much as she wanted to tell herself that she didn’t want to touch him, that he was forcing her to do this, she couldn’t. She wondered, with every fiber of her being, what he tasted like. She could smell him, musky and masculine, and she wanted more. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
She reached for the fastening of his pants, slowly pulling them open. He wasn’t wearing anything beneath; with a start she realized he probably didn’t own anything else. Even his pants were the same ones she had cut off him, then stitched back together while he lay ill. She pulled the pants down a bit and all thoughts of his clothing disappeared. There it was, his cock. It stood proud and large, waiting for her touch. He grunted, catching her attention.
“Keep moving,” he said softly. She nodded.
She peeled back his trousers and pulled them down his legs a bit. Now she could see all of him. His long, hard cock. His balls, hanging just below in their sack. Already they pulled up, tight and tense. Despite the limitations of her experience, she knew he wasn’t going to last that long once she touched him. What would he taste like, coming in her mouth?
Once again she traced his length with her hand, but this time there was no fabric between them. He was soft, and oh-so-warm to the touch. She followed the vein along the underside, first trailing one finger up it and then reaching out with the tip of her tongue. She traveled up the shaft slowly, exploring every bump and wrinkle with her tongue. Then she reached the top. There was a little dip in the skin there, a spot where the ridge of his cock-head came together. She tickled it with her tongue and he gasped.
She looked up at him, eyes wide, and touched her tongue to that spot again. He gazed back at her, eyes bright as deep blue coals; he dropped his head back against the door and moaned.
“Take it into you mouth,” he whispered, as in pain. “Take it into your mouth and suck it. I need you to touch me there.”
She did as she was told, opening her mouth and slowly sucking the head of his cock. He tasted hot and salty. Sweet. She could feel a rush of moisture building between her thighs—oh, she wanted him. One of his hands came up to grasp the back of her head firmly, pushing her down onto his length.
He wanted more from her.
She sucked him in further, careful to keep her teeth from grazing against him. She wasn’t able to get him in all the way, and when he hit the back of her throat, she choked. Instantly his hand stopped pushing.
“You don’t have to take more of me than you can handle,” he whispered painfully. “Just take what you can…” His words broke as he moaned in pleasure.
She nodded, bobbing up and down on him as she did so. He gasped, and she realized just how much power this new position gave her.
He was hers now.
Moving slowly, she pulled up on the cock with one hand, mimicking the sucking motions of her mouth. Then she pushed back down. She repeated the movement, going more quickly this time. His hand clenched in her hair, and she did it again. Soon she was in a rhythm that seemed to be working for both of them. She could feel him growing harder in her mouth. More moisture leaked from him as well. Without thinking, she wrapped both arms around his hips and grasped the cheeks of his butt firmly in her fingers. She needed some leverage if she was going to do this right.
Her head moved back and forth, quicker and quicker. Each stroke brought him just a little closer to exploding. She could feel it in the way his muscles tensed, taste it in the seed he was already starting to leak into her mouth. His hand clenched her hair more tightly, the slight pain spurring her on.
Her mouth was starting to ache and her neck was growing tired. It should have been terribly uncomfortable for her to keep her pace, but it was as if she were no longer in charge of her own body. There was an ache building between her legs and in her breasts. She wanted his hands on them, to feel his rough fingers play with her nipples.
She wanted that hard cock inside her.
He gasped, all but whimpering with need. His hips started thrusting against her head, moving her faster and faster toward the explosion of his seed. He muttered something low under his breath, then both his hands were on her head, pulling her face into his cock with such force it should have been painful. All she could think about was how much she wanted him to thrust against her in another place. If he was too spent from this to fuck her afterward, she was going to die.
His cock was knocking at the back of her throat with each thrust now. She tried to time herself with it, and suddenly she was swallowing it, pulling him deep within her throat. He gasped and pulled her head more tightly against him. She swallowed again, feeling her throat muscles tighten around him. She couldn’t breath. Acting on instinct, she swallowed again and this time kept swallowing, massaging him with her muscles even as she started seeing spots from lack of oxygen. He gave a startled cry, and then he exploded into her. She could feel the hot spurts of come slither down her throat and felt light-headed. His fingers clutched her head so hard it hurt, and then he was slowly pulling out of her mouth.
She felt sore, almost raw. And so empty…
He slowly sank to the floor and pulled her close to his body. He was kissing her eyes, her nos
e, her mouth. He murmured soft words and rubbed the back of her head as she collapsed against his chest, gasping for air.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, “So sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, Beth. Oh, Bethie, I’m so sorry…”
It took her a moment to realize what he was saying.
“You didn’t hurt me,” she whispered, voice sounding raw even to her. “I startled myself there, but you didn’t hurt me.”
“You must be exhausted,” he whispered, still cradling her. She nodded her head, realizing he was right. She was exhausted. But she was also far too restless and awake to sleep. The heaviness that had built up between her legs, in her breasts, was still there. She needed something to make it go away. She needed him inside her body.
Slowly, he stood and pulled her up with him. He led her to the bed he had made for them, gesturing to it vaguely.
“You need to rest,” he said. “I won’t bother you.”
She looked him in the eye and started to unfasten the laces that held her dress closed across the front. He seemed startled, almost embarrassed.
“This is the only thing I have to wear,” she whispered. “I don’t want to sleep in it, too. Beside that, the fabric will bunch up as I sleep. I can’t imagine I’d get much rest that way.”
He watched in silence as she pulled the dress slowly down her shoulders, then stepped out of it. She was nearly naked now; only her shift separated her from his gaze. It was faded and thin from a thousand washings. She turned to face him, standing straight. Her nipples stood out, pink peaks clearly visible.
“I think we should go to bed now,” she said softly.
Chapter Nine
Jess had never felt so confused in his life. He’d all but raped this woman’s mouth. Her lips were red and swollen from sucking him; even her voice rasped from the strain he’d put on her throat. Now she seemed to be inviting him to do more. Even though he had spent himself just moments earlier, his cock was already coming to attention.