When they finally stopped, she opened her eyes and was shocked to see they’d left the swamp far behind. There was no sign of the lake or the smoldering ruins of the settlement on its shores. They were in a clearing with trees all around, like a meadow at the edge of a forest. It was hard to make out much upside down, but it looked as though they’d come to a structure built of stone and rough-hewn timbers. His brother opened the door and they went along a wide passageway inside. All she could see from her position was the gleaming wood floor. He turned a corner, went through another doorway and down a flight of stone steps.
The one carrying her dumped her onto a wooden bench in the center of the room. The rough surface awakened the fiery pain in her freshly spanked bottom. Right side up, the crippling headache returned as well. She swayed dizzily. The other twin took her arm and helped her to a sitting position. She slumped over with her head in her hands until the room stopped spinning, then risked a look around.
She was in a large space, a cellar roughly thirty feet square. Stone walls and floor, with heavy wooden beams overhead. Floor to ceiling shelves along one wall held an assortment of large containers, mostly woven baskets, with a few clay jars and wooden crates. No windows, but the room was lit with a pale blue-white glow coming from some of the stones set in the wall.
“Oh, great,” she muttered aloud. “They light their buildings using radioactive rocks. Now my skin will probably turn purple too.”
“It’s not like iridium. Zymex is harmless.”
She whipped her head around, then groaned as the knife of pain stabbed her forehead. Definitely brain damage, probably due to a concussion suffered when Magnus knocked her into the Luna’s command console. She was hallucinating for sure this time, imagining she and the alien were carrying on a conversation.
“Tell us where they’ve gone.”
Her mouth dropped open. The twin to her right had spoken. She’d seen his mouth move.
She stared from one to the other. “You… you speak English?” Maybe these aliens weren’t as stupid as she thought.
“Is that what you call it?” The one who carried her into the structure answered. “Yes. We are capable of analyzing your method of communication and adapting to it. Now tell us where they’ve gone.”
Cass felt vulnerable being naked while they had clothes on. It was a common interrogation tactic. She knew that was exactly the effect they wanted, so she did her best to ignore her embarrassment.
“I don’t know. I tracked them to the village and saw… what they did.” Her voice broke. She took a moment to compose herself, then went on. “I panicked and started running. Got lost in the swamp. Almost got eaten by the horrible gator things. Then I dropped my Blazar and while I was down in the muck feeling around for it, one of those slug pods attached itself to my hand. They started stinging me.” She shuddered and ran her hands over her body. “It feels like they’re still crawling all over.”
“Wuzzers. Their secretions are poisonous but the yterla neutralizes it. The sensations you feel will linger for a time but eventually they will pass.” The twin who explained the glowing rocks responded.
“Enough!” His brother’s voice was hard. “Your ship is gone. They abandoned you here, left you to die in the swamp. They don’t care about your welfare. Why be loyal to them? Tell us where they’re headed.”
“The Luna is gone?” She turned to him, her expression blank. “I don’t know where they went. I entered the landing protocol, but that’s all. I have no idea what course heading they took from here.”
“You see. She admits it.” The brother who carried her last turned to his twin, switching to Tharan. “I … one of them, Rhynn.” Fortunately, the Tellex chip translation program had begun functioning. Although words and even whole phrases were missing, she could understand most of what he said.
When he went on, she almost wished she couldn’t.
Cass
“…make her tell us. If she … kill her slowly.”
“Rhom, wait!” The one called Rhynn was shaking his head. “She needs … If we lock … time to prepare…”
They were arguing, right in front of her. Although it took everything she had not to react, Cass decided to play dumb. If they didn’t know she could understand them, they’d speak freely around her and she might learn something that would help her escape. She groaned again and cradled her head, as though suffering another stab of pain. The one called Rhom grabbed her by the hair and tilted her head up.
“Think hard, female,” he ordered in English. His other hand closed around her bare breast, trapping her nipple between finger and thumb. Squeezing painfully. “Be ready to tell us everything when we return. Or you will regret it.”
They headed up the stairs and she heard the heavy wooden door shut behind them. Though she suspected it would be futile, she dashed up after them. Waiting till the sound of their footsteps on the wooden floor died away, she pushed against the door. It didn’t budge. She examined the frame. No hinges, no fittings. Whatever mechanism they used to hold it in place was on the other side. From within, the wood fit so seamlessly, even if she had a sharp tool she doubted she could slide it between the door and the casing.
Unsure of how much time she’d have before they returned, she made a swift survey of the room, searching for a way to escape. Then she began examining it slowly. She spent hours going over the entire space inch by inch, looking for a chink in the rock wall or a stone she could pry out of the floor. She even dragged several of the wooden crates down off a shelf and piled them on top of each other to inspect the wooden ceiling for a crack or a loose board.
The painkilling effect of the arousal they stirred in her had worn off within an hour or two after they left and all she wanted was to curl up in a ball on the hard stone floor and rest her aching head and body. She forced herself to keep going. If she couldn’t escape, she’d have to fight her way out. Cass inspected the contents of the containers for something she could use as a weapon.
Inside the wooden crates, she found woven fabrics and animal skins. Rifling through them, she picked out a length of cloth and wrapped it around her like a sari. With her body covered again, Cass felt a burst of confidence. She inspected the crates, tried to pry boards loose from them. It was no use.
The other containers held household staples. Several kinds of grain. Baskets of odd-shaped organic substances, some of them nasty-smelling things that made her want to retch. Liquids filled the clay jars. Oils mostly, except for the two largest ones. She took a sniff. Sweet. And definitely alcoholic. Some sort of fermented drink.
Hungry, exhausted, and in pain, she decided to find something to eat, then sleep for a while. She needed to be in top form when they returned if she had to fight two huge aliens with her bare hands.
She rummaged through the supplies again, found a basket filled with tubers. She broke one apart. White and fleshy inside, it was firm to the touch. At least it didn’t smell nasty like some of the other things. Cass shrugged and took a bite. She was likely to die here anyway.
It had a satisfying crunch but not much taste. Bland, like an uncooked potato. She finished it off and ate another one. Eating reminded her of how thirsty she was. Her only options seemed to be oil or liquor. Cass opted for the liquor.
She tipped one of the heavy jars toward her and took a tiny sip. Whoa! Thick and sweet, like honey mixed with crushed fruit, it went down easy. It was only after swallowing that she became aware of the trail of warmth it left in her throat. She took another sip. The warmth hit her stomach and spread through her limbs, lessening the pain she was in.
“Just a little more,” she cautioned herself out loud. “Enough to help me sleep.”
She dug through the crates of animal skins, piled the softest ones on the stone floor, and gave in to exhaustion.
Cass awoke with a start. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed. The rocks still glowed with the blue-white light. She got up and made another pass around the room. Tried to haul the wooden
bench up the stairs to batter her way out the door. It was impossible. She could barely budge it. The wood was so much heavier than any found on Earth. If everything on their planet had this density, no wonder the twins had been able to carry her such a long distance without showing any fatigue. She refused to think about what their incredible strength meant for her chances of overpowering them to get away.
She worked out until her muscles screamed for mercy, pushing herself as hard as she dared with the injury to her ribs. Working out required focus and kept her from worrying about the fate of her crew. She ate, drank, slept again.
She’d been running up and down the stairs sometime after her fourth sleep cycle when she heard sounds from above. Cass hurried to the other end of the room, next to the shelves. She’d decided her best bet would be to heave the clay jars at them, then dash upstairs and out the door. Her plan hadn’t gone far beyond that, since she had no idea how she’d get off the planet. She hoped to hide somewhere, try to hook up with the crew of an alien merchant ship. The brothers hadn’t been completely shocked to see her, so she guessed they had some familiarity with beings from other worlds. With any luck, she’d find Tharon had an established interplanetary trading system.
Her heart was pounding as the door opened. The brothers headed down the stairs, dressed in black pants and midnight blue shirts that fit like a second skin. She gave a sigh of relief. It was going to be hard enough to fight them, given their size and strength. At least she wouldn’t have to battle the effect of the pheromones when their bare skin touched hers. Being near them, trying to ignore their seductive attraction, was challenge enough.
They were in a somber mood. Heavy. She could feel it. Their scent dulled, without the sharp edge to it that made her pulse race.
Rhom stopped at the foot of the stairs. She could tell them apart already, just from the brief time she’d spent skin to skin with them. She didn’t know if all males on their planet had the same distinctive odor, only that Rhom’s was a shade more potent than his brother’s. It made sense, since his personality seemed more forceful than his twin’s.
He looked her over, took in the nest she’d made of furs. Raised the ridge where his eyebrow would have been if he had any hair.
“I hope you spent as much time recalling the information about your comrades as you did making yourself at home here.”
He stepped to one side, started coming closer. Rhynn did the same, advancing from the other side. Just as they’d done in the swamp. Just as the creatures who hunted her did. She took her time, backed away slowly. Then she whirled, grabbed a jar of oil, and launched it at Rhom.
It shattered at his feet. He sidestepped the slippery puddle and kept coming. She yanked another one off the shelf but before she could throw it, Rhynn reached her and snatched it out of her hands.
“It seems your time alone hasn’t quelled your defiance.”
He dragged her over to the wooden bench, holding her arms behind her back. Rhom stepped in front of her and she tensed, ready for a blow. Instead, he grabbed the cloth she’d wrapped around her body and stripped it off, leaving her naked again.
She caught the flicker of surprise in his eyes when he saw her body. The bruises from Magnus’s beating showed up as huge purple and blue splotches on her torso.
“So, they treat their own women cruelly as well. You must like it or you wouldn’t be so loyal to them. Now - tell us where your comrades have gone,” he repeated.
“I told you, I’m not one of them. I’m Commander Cassidy Randall of the Interstellar Federation. The pirates you’re seeking tricked us and captured my ship...”
Rhom interrupted her, his tone harsh. “It’s too late to make up stories. You confessed to helping them the day we found you.”
“I entered the landing protocol only because they threatened to kill my first mate,” she protested.
From behind her, Rhynn spoke. His words hit her harder than the blow she’d been expecting. “You saved your mate - and killed ours.”
“I’m sorry. I tried to get to a settlement, warn your people.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I didn’t make it in time.”
“Enough of your lies and excuses.” Rhom reached into a pocket, pulled out a handful of rope. “Hold her down, Brother. We’ll see if her story changes with a little persuasion.”
Rhynn wrestled her face-down over the waist-high wooden bench. Rhom grabbed one ankle, then the other, spreading them wide apart to tie them to the legs of the bench. Then he did the same to her wrists, leaving her spread-eagled with her head down and her bottom high in the air.
“Get the vela. And the harness.”
Cass was lost. Apparently, there was no English word for one of the items he wanted. Rhynn disappeared up the stairs. When he came back, he walked around the bench to face her.
“This is a vela,” he said, holding out one hand. He held what looked like the tail of an animal. Instead of hair, each strand was a strip of hide. “And this is the rod.”
He showed her what was in his other hand. Leather straps with buckles surrounded an unmistakable phallus. The object, sheathed in a sleek, dark material she couldn’t identify, was eight or nine inches long and as big around as two of his fingers. Cass felt a wave of hot lust pour over her at the sight of it. Even though their scent wasn’t as strong as before, her level of arousal was doubled by having both so near. Despite her vulnerable position, her pussy clenched in anticipation.
“We will insert this and buckle the straps around you. Then we will ask you again to tell us where your comrades have gone. If you persist in your lies, we’ll whip your ass with the vela, then leave you here tied to the bench until you’re ready to talk.”
Whip her? Cass shook her head frantically. “It’s no use,” she pleaded. “I can’t tell you anything because I don’t know where they’ve gone.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rhom pick up a broken piece of the clay pot. It held a tiny pool of oil. He bent down in front of her and rubbed the oil onto the phallus.
“This oil is infused, but it seems a shame to waste it.”
She didn’t understand until he walked around behind her and pulled the cheeks of her bottom apart. She gasped as his finger came in contact with the tight puckered entrance to her rear opening. His pheromones reacted instantly with the sensitive skin there, sending a hot rush through her core, followed by a stab of fear. That phallus wasn’t going in her pussy.
He pressed the head of the rod against her sphincter and she tensed. Then she let out a hiss. The oil, warm at first, created a burning sensation. He rubbed it around, then worked the tip of it inside her. She squirmed frantically but tied down as she was, there was no way to avoid it.
“Struggle all you want.” Rhom slid the rod further in and then picked up the vela. She heard it whistle through the air. When it cracked against her bottom, every strand left a separate stinging lash of fire on her tender skin. She clenched her teeth, vowing not to cry out.
Rhom twisted the phallus back and forth, driving it past her tight opening. She shuddered at the combination of stinging bottom and hot, hard object penetrating her rear passage. She’d never been taken there, never even fantasized about it. She was horribly embarrassed, but at the same time, their mastery sent a wicked thrill rocketing through her. Cass fought her arousal. She was being forced to submit to this, but becoming excited by it went against everything she believed in.
He kept going, inserting it deeper, taking the wild heat with it. The burning sensation grew, becoming nearly unbearable. At the same time, the effect of the pheromones given off by both brothers intensified. Her hormone-drugged brain registered shocking pleasure instead of pain. She let a moan escape as he penetrated her with the slick, hard object.
Behind her, Rhom growled. “Did you moan like that when they beat you? Did you beg them to do it harder?”
“No!” She couldn’t help wiggling her hips when he slid the rod out part way.
“Liar.”
Rhom dr
ove it back in and she let out strangled cry. He fastened the harness around her waist. When he ran the strap between the cheeks of her bottom and then over her pussy in front, his hand brushed the folds around her slit. Rockets exploded inside her.
Stunned, Cass battled to regain control. She’d never let go like this before. These alien creatures were her enemies, not her lovers. She had to keep that uppermost in her mind, no matter how shamefully her body reacted.
Rhom picked up the vela flogger again and lashed her rear cheeks with it. She tightened involuntarily around the hard object in her bottom. Another wave of heat poured through her rear channel. Her fingernails raked the wooden legs of the bench and she squeezed her eyes shut, panting for breath. He thrashed her again. This time it was the white-hot flash of pain that had her clenching her cheeks. Two more strokes and she was struggling to hold back tears.
“Who is your leader?”
“He’s not my leader!”
The vela cracked down again. She jerked against her restraints. The movement shifted the leather strap between her legs and it rubbed across her clit. Her pussy spasmed, rocking the hard phallus lodged in her back passage and setting off a fresh wave of forbidden desire. The fire searing her bottom melded with the heat inside her, pain and pleasure becoming indistinguishable. She shuddered and gritted her teeth.
Another lash. “Who is your leader?”
“His name is Magnus but he’s not … my leader,” she gasped. “I’m Commander of the Luna.”
“So it was you who ordered the raid?” Rhynn broke in.
“No! I told you, the pirates captured my ship. They took my crew hostage, locked them in the hold.”
Rhom struck her again. “Why did they let you stay free if you weren’t working with them?”
“They needed …” She groaned as the flogger’s bite registered. “They needed me to show them how to run the ship.”
Rhom threw down the vela in disgust. “Maybe you didn’t order the raid, but you conspired with them to earn your freedom. You made it possible for them to pilot your ship, use it to attack innocent worlds. Take innocent lives. You’re as guilty as the others.”
Their Captive Mate: A Sci-Fi Alien Dark Romance: Tharan Warrior Menage Book 1 Page 5