by Jaye Peaches
He chuckled, then buried his face in her slit, lapping her juices.
“Please, I want you,” she murmured.
Shifting his weight, he moved his hands and planted them on either side of her head. Rising up, he hovered, his cock poised to strike at her core. She expected him to be rough, drive her into a state of oblivion, but he dipped his cock into her entrance and remained there, tipping in and out and teasing her with pedantic slowness.
He grinned and the light caught the whites of his eyes, making them dazzle. She reached up and drew his face down so she could kiss his lips. It was as she smothered him with her own mouth, darting her tongue along his teeth that he plunged into her pussy with a firm thrust. She shrieked into his mouth, “Oh, yes.”
He neither pummelled nor caressed her with his thick rod. He judged her temperament, her ability to take him with brilliant foresight. Keeping her arse raised away from the chafing bed, he curled her legs up, gripping her behind the knees and pinning her safely in place. He stopped short of slapping into her red welts, manipulating her into positions that kept her both vulnerable and free of pain. Eventually, the wash of endorphins drowned out the discomforts and he became rougher, readier to use his hands on her flesh and nipping her with his teeth.
She came in a flood of muted screams, clenching hard around his cock, willing him to keep going and not spurt into her until she had him take her to her climax multiple times. Exhaustion won in the end, and even Blake struggled to maintain his stamina. With a roar, he pumped into her.
He convulsed, then extracted his limp cock and slumped next to her, snoring before his head hit the pillow. Lysa smiled to herself, pulled the covers over them both and lay next to his warm body, ignoring the sweat, she enjoyed his natural aroma until her eyes drooped and she joined him in a deep slumber.
Chapter Twelve
The instant he had his foot through the pod door, Lysa yanked on his hand, pulling him into the room. She appeared agitated and distracted. He went to kiss her lips, but she pulled away, flapping her hands in front of her face.
“The gas isn’t venting into the atmosphere,” she exclaimed.
“What?” Blake wanted food, not her latest discovery on the mechanics of mine engineering. Since her encounter with the constable two weeks previously, she’d renewed her efforts to study, determined to keep out of trouble and avoid contact with Millicent and her cronies. As far as he knew, only Jen and Sym visited her.
She picked up the tablet, tapping on the screen. “This, look! It’s all wrong.”
He saw some incomprehensible calculation flash up and he sighed. “Lysa, I’m a mine worker, I don’t do the maths of it. That’s the job of the surveying team.”
“I’m not talking about surveys. I’m talking about an imminent explosion!” She shoved the screen in his face.
“Explosion?”
“Yes!” She jabbed her finger.
“Lysa, will you calm down. Sit down. Tell me what you’re wittering on about.” He steered her towards a chair and sat next to her.
“The drills produce exhaust fumes and there are displaced gas pockets, yes? It all gets pumped into an underground reservoir and vented up to the surface to prevent dangerous build-up. Well, I’ve been examining the safety protocols for the sensors, which detect the volume of gas, and they’re all wrong. The figures contradict each other. Initially, I thought, you know, I’d miscalculated, but something must be wrong because nothing is being vented.” Her eyes widened and she perched on the edge of her seat. “Blake, we’re all sitting on a time bomb.”
His head lolled forward. Why had he let her get carried away with her studies instead of socialising? Her imagination had let her see things that weren’t there. “Lysa, you can’t possibly have detected a fault numerous paid, qualified engineers have missed? Heh? Now sort out some food.”
She slammed her fist on the table. “No, you don’t get it. I’m not making it up.”
“I’m sure you believe you’re right, but it can’t be true. Now put that away and do as you’re told.”
“I won’t!” She folded her arms across her chest.
“Very well, fetch the paddle.” He hoped the mere threat of a spanking would shake her out of her delusion.
“Blake. I’m trying to tell you about a life or death situation and you want to spank me? Will you just look at the numbers. Even you will see the discrepancies.”
“Even me? Oh, how charming. My pretty wife is now the expert. The paddle, Lysa.” He pointed at the closet.
She leaned forward. “You can paddle my arse as much as you want, Blake, it won’t change the numbers.”
“If that’s how you want to do this, I’ll get it.” He stood up and marched across the room, grumbling about educating women under his breath.
She wouldn’t budge out of the chair. She sat, legs crossed, arms folded and lips pressed into a frown. As he manhandled her over the edge of the table, uncovering her bare bottom, she protested. “It’s not fair. This isn’t what I expected of you, Blake. I thought you believed in me!”
He held her in place with the flat of his hand between her shoulder blades, her face forced against the surface of the table. He raised his hand and brought the paddle down. Her bottom flattened as the wood impacted her flesh.
“Will you desist with this ridiculous theory and get back to your proper place as my dutiful wife?” He waited, gripping the handle of the paddle, hoping she’d back down and see sense.
“No!” she shouted. “I will not. I’m right!”
“Damn,” he muttered. He hated to spank her when she refused to cooperate, but he’d laid out the rules and there was no backing out.
She writhed, fought to stand up and he shook his head at her disobedience. He kept up a ferocious pace, spanking her bottom until it turned red. However, her protestations did not end, and she cursed him, accusing him of reneging on his deal to let her study and better herself. When the angry tears streamed down her face, he stopped. He examined her slit. She was dry, untainted by any kind of arousal. He scratched his head and snorted.
“You really do believe this data, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she sniffed, then gave him her most defiant expression. “I’m not going to cook your damn food until you look at it. You can spank me all bloody night, I don’t care.”
He lay the paddle down and picked up the tablet. “Stay there. If this turns out to be you making things up, there will be more paddling.” He warned.
“I’m not making things up, why would I?” She wiped away her tears, waiting for him to check the figures.
Blake sat. He was good with his hands and equipment, big machines and control panels, but not equations and complicated diagrams. “I don’t know, Lysa.”
“Please let me explain.”
“Okay. Sit on a chair and show me.”
He listened attentively as she broke down the data, pointing out the contradictions and her hypothesis that the sensors were faulty. “Something has to explain this,” she concluded.
Blake could see things didn’t add up and though the reservoir should be half-empty, Lysa’s figures showed it to be full. The vents switched on when the reservoir reached three quarters capacity. The pressure inside must be building and would begin to back up.
“What should we do with this?” He pondered the possibilities. If she turned out to be wrong, he’d be humiliated and worse, he’d have to explain why she had access to Corporation systems. If she was right, they might end up dead. Everyone. Just like her parents. Mistakes happened, and he didn’t doubt they were possible.
She stood up. “Go to Ridley, now.”
Blake eyed the paddle. He might come to regret using it if she turned out to be right.
She patted his hand. “Forget about the spanking. If I’m right, you can make it up to me in other ways. If I’m wrong, you can punish me.” She snorted. “Though the more likely outcome is I’ll end up in a cell waiting for a massive thrashing from the constable.”
“You’ll risk ending up with him?” Blake realised the enormity of the situation. If Lysa believed she was right, it meant she was willing to risk everything. Her courage in coming out could cost her everything. It might even mean the end of their marriage if she was sent back to Earth in disgrace, facing charges of deception and bribery.
“Yes,” she said. “Please, Blake, prove to me you’re a loving husband and stand by me.”
He looked into her eyes and it was enough. He couldn’t ignore her, not when she was showing such courage.
Blake’s reputation as a hard worker got him in to see Ridley without an appointment. He debated whether to take Lysa, but as she pointed out, how would he explain the numbers? Ridley was a qualified engineer and he would see through Blake’s blustering explanation.
“What do we say to him?” she asked as they waited outside his office.
“The truth, everything, except don’t mention bribing the execs with sex. You wanted to study and marry a miner. Don’t talk of your upbringing or parents. He might think you’ve got an axe to grind.” He paced up and down, the tension growing with each minute.
Ridley sat behind his desk and pursed his lips when Lysa stood alongside Blake. The middle-aged man appeared tired and burdened with responsibilities. Blake was about to add to them. He straightened up and took a deep breath. “My wife, Lysa, is studying to be a mining engineer. She has been accessing the system and has found a potential fatal fault in the safety systems. Basically, the venting system has failed.”
He waited, holding his breath, while next to him Lysa remained stiff and pale. Ridley tapped a finger on his desk, glancing back and forth between Blake and his wife.
“I’m not going to ask how she comes to be studying engineering or how she has access to a closed system. I’m going to accept you’re here because what you’ve found out is serious and I take the safety of this facility seriously. Lysa, tell me what you know, then I’ll decide how to proceed.”
Blake let out a long exhale of relief and Lysa came alive, as if Ripley had given permission for her to be the person she always wanted to be—a respected engineer. She sat in a chair, pointed out the schematics displayed on Ripley’s console and explained the issue concisely. Blake listened in, unable to contribute anything as the two engineers discussed her findings. Unlike Blake, who’d questioned her figures, Ripley understood the implication of what she was saying immediately.
He called up the comms and barked out a string of orders to various people. “Damn that venting system,” he muttered. “I told them back on Earth the testing had been inadequate.” He turned to Lysa, who waited anxiously to find out her fate, wringing her hands in her lap. Blake wanted to reach out and hold her hand, tell her how proud he was of her and humbled by her intelligence.
Ripley rose and contemplated her. “Right, you two are coming with me.”
“Where?” she asked.
“Underground, into the mine. If they’re faulty sensors, the only way to tell is to remove them and put in new ones. We’ve no time to waste.”
“I’m going down there,” she stuttered, her eyes widening.
“I think you deserve it,” he replied smiling. “To be honest, if you are right and this place is on the brink of an explosion, it doesn’t make any difference where you are.”
“And if I’m wrong?”
“I won’t judge you for keeping the safety of this facility foremost. Everyone makes mistakes. However, whatever the outcome, I will be demanding explanations of why you came to have access to these systems. From both of you.” He pointed his finger at Blake.
Blake shot a glance at his wife. Whatever happened next, they were both in trouble for breaking the rules.
* * *
Lysa donned the oversized work suit with unbridled excitement. She put aside worries about consequences of her covert studies and decided to enjoy her first experience underground. Blake moved around her, checking her equipment several times. She appreciated his conscientious preparations, it made her buzz inside to see him fret about her personal safety.
When she exited the elevator, breathing through the mask, the heat struck her. She expected the air to be icy cold, but heating fans, which melted the ice providing the habitat with water, didn’t produce a vast excess of heat. Something else was keeping the tunnels oppressively hot.
By the time they reached the critical control panels near the reservoir, she’d sweated what felt like a bucket load into her suit. How did Blake cope for twelve hours underground?
“It’s hotter than usual,” Blake remarked through the suit’s communication system. She heard his comment and it perhaps explained the unbearable temperature. Water dripped down from the tunnel roofs, condensing on her sleeves.
She watched, her heart racing, as the team Ridley had assembled dismantled panels, checking the circuits. She could do nothing but wait with Blake and Ridley while the gathered experts investigated her suspicions. Numerous safety engineers trotted up and down the gloomy tunnels, which the miners had carved into the bedrock of the moon. Finally, one came bounding up to Ridley.
“Sir. We’ve replaced the sensors that detect the emissions build up in the reservoir and the pressure is off the scale. We need to override the venting protocols.”
“Do it, now,” barked Ridley. “Shut down everything, all the drills, anything which contributes to the exhaust gases. Nothing more must get into that reservoir until the excess is vented to the surface.” He turned to Lysa. “You were right. Fortunately for you, however, unfortunately for the mine, we’ll have to shut down production, recalibrate all the systems and retest everything.”
She understood the implication. Quotas would be missed and the executives running the Corporation on Earth would want to know why. “What will you tell them?” she asked.
“I don’t know. First, let’s get this under control. Then you and Blake can tell me the truth of what you’re doing on Callisto.”
She swallowed back a mouthful of bile. The excitement of being underground replaced by the implication of breaking the law.
* * *
Back on the surface Lysa faced Ridley across his desk once more. She, Blake and the boss remained red faced and grimy from their trip below the surface. The only comfort offered was a drink of water, otherwise she stood before his desk and her legs shook. Confident though she might have been in her calculations, but not in her status as a wife of a miner whose sole purpose should be to pleasure her husband for the duration of his contract.
“Explain,” initiated Ridley, his features unfathomable.
She told him of her parents, their life on Europa and their death, her decision to study covertly and her marriage to Blake. She left out, as Blake suggested, the acts of bribery.
Ridley listened in silence until she finished. “You married to get access to the mine system?” He summarised.
“That was my plan, but then I met Blake and things changed. I fell in love with him.” A rush of warmth filled her face as she admitted her feelings towards Blake. She daren’t look at Ridley, she stared at her feet instead.
Blake came to stand behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “I’m very proud of my wife, sir. She and I came to an agreement, and I promised I would do whatever I could to help her succeed. I’m asking that you turn a blind eye to her gender. She deserves the chance to work as an engineer. If you send her back to Earth, I request I go with her. I love her and would not be parted from her.”
Tears pricked into Lysa’s eyes as Blake spoke.
“You planned to take the engineering exams?” asked Ridley.
“Yes,” said Lysa. “By pretending to be a man. I would rather take them under my real name.”
Silence filled the room as she waited for his verdict.
“You saved this mine today and all the inhabitants. You, a woman with no formal training, spotted what men with years of experience failed to notice. I’m impressed. I can’t begin to express my gratitude f
or your diligence and determination. You risked much, coming here, both of you, and speaking out. I will not report you to the authorities back on Earth. I will ask that you be allowed to complete your studies under your own name. I’ve long believed this place would be better served if the women were properly employed in useful jobs. We have need of people in the processing plant and the medical facility needs female workers.”
“I agree, sir,” she looked up and he smiled at her.
“However, for now, I’d rather you didn’t proclaim you exploitation of our mining system. I shall do what I can to help you, but I can’t make promises, not like your husband.”
“Thank you, that is all I ask,” she soared with new purpose. She wouldn’t be banished or arrested, the relief made her giddy.
“Now, is there anything else I need know about my colony?” asked Ridley with a grin.
Lysa glanced over her shoulder at her husband and he squeezed her shoulders. “There is one other issue. But it isn’t to do with the mine itself. It’s matter of personal safety and is to do with a certain man who regularly threatens the women on this colony.”
“Ah,” said Ridley resting his hands on the desk and leaning forward. “What can you tell me?”
Chapter Thirteen
Lysa clutched the coffee cup in her hand and leaning across the table, stuck her nose up against Jen’s own. “How dare you spread rumours about me? I would never go behind Blake’s back!”
Jen shrank back in her seat. “That’s not what I heard. You’ve been keeping secrets.”
Lysa glanced over Jen’s shoulder to where Sym stood watching, her eyes darting about the bar area. She kept her distance, not interfering as the two friends argued. Sym’s eyes locked on somebody else behind Lysa then she gave a swift nod, before turning away.
Lysa took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the cup, steadying her shaking hands. “Prove it,” she snapped at Jen.