Breathless with fear, again betrayed by her body’s terrible cravings, she obeyed, but as she did she heard Je’Tar’s voice, and it seemed to fulfill every confusing idea she had about him.
“Don’t worry, Tera,” he said in English only very lightly accented with the same kind of lilt Ge’Dor’s words had. “I’m going to take care of you. I promise to protect you.”
She fought the urge to look again, so that she might have another glimpse of Je’Tar, and won the battle because Ge’Dor responded with a snarl in what must be the warriors’ own language. The sound of it sent a shiver up Tera’s spine, so harsh did the strange words sound despite the quickly, almost rhythmically, falling and rising tones of them—like music in a scary video that came before something terrible happened.
Ge’Dor’s spoke louder, faster, and, it seemed to Tera, more angrily. Je’Tar responded with authority, but she thought she could hear in his speech, too, rising anger. Then, suddenly, after Je’Tar had said something very brief that sounded to Tera like it might have been a bare monosyllabic denial—No?—she felt the air move around her and she sensed somehow that Ge’Dor had lunged at Je’Tar.
An instant later she heard, and felt through her feet upon the floor, the impact of the two He’Ban bodies. Part of her wanted to turn around, but she felt such terror of what might happen if she did that she held her position, whipped bottom still offered to the warriors and shorts and panties around her lower thighs.
The struggle went on for a few seconds only, though they seemed an eternity to Tera. Were they using the glowing knives on each other? Did the plates under their rough skin protect them at all? Who was winning?
Then Je’Tar—Tera could tell, she thought, because he sounded calmer—spoke a few words. They had stopped moving. Had one of them subdued the other, somehow? Je’Tar repeated the same phrase, more insistently.
Ge’Dor uttered a series of words that Tera felt any humanoid from anywhere in the galaxy could recognize as a curse. His voice seemed to come from lower down, closer to the floor.
Je’Tar repeated himself. Ge’Dor spoke again in the same tone with which he had delivered the imprecation, but he spoke only two words, and then the air moved again as the aliens rose to their feet.
“Girl turn around,” Ge’Dor said.
Trembling, Tera obeyed, unbending at last and self-consciously placing her hands in front of her pussy. The two He’Ban stood side by side, their knives put away. The blades must be made of some kind of energy field, Tera thought, because what hung at their right hips seemed only the hilts of the weapons they had held a few moments before.
“Hands at your sides, Tera,” Je’Tar said, though his voice sounded reassuring and even kind despite the shameful command. “You may not cover yourself in the presence of a warrior.”
Her cheeks blazing, Tera complied, watching the deep blue eyes of the He’Ban go straight there, to look, to appraise—as if to ascertain what she might be good for, between her legs.
Ge’Dor said something in He’Ban, and Je’Tar responded. Tera thought she heard reluctant agreement in her savior’s voice.
“Put girl in discipline belt,” Ge’Dor said, looking into Tera’s eyes. “No fuck until hearing. I win girl come my ship. I keep girl my bunk. I fuck bottom every night.”
She couldn’t suppress a little whimper of fear at these words, and her eyes darted to Je’Tar, hoping to see something reassuring. Of course she couldn’t read the position of his nose, which had risen and broadened a little, but his words did calm her.
“I apologize, Tera, for my fellow officer’s behavior. You will come to my ship, the Swiftarrow, now. I’m afraid that I will have to put you in a discipline belt, but I promise you won’t have to serve until this matter is resolved. Take off your clothes, now, and lay them on the bunk. You won’t need them again.”
Chapter Five
Je’Tar went to the little cabinet in the wall of the holding cell and unlocked it with his thumbprint. Inside lay several implements useful in training pleasure-girls: what the humans called dildos and butt plugs, of various shapes and sizes, along with restraints of several kinds. Je’Tar chose a belt of stout leather to which cuffs were attached at either side by metal fastenings.
Many He’Ban officers liked to use this sort of device when training pleasure-girls especially at the start of their service in the star fleet: not only did it make it impossible for the girl to touch her pussy or to cover it with her hands, but a warrior might easily bend her over and enjoy her whenever he liked, teaching her with his hand or his cock that she belonged to the He’Ban now. Je’Tar for his part found the sight of a girl naked but for a discipline belt very moving, but he didn’t like to use the device in the severe way favored by officers like Ge’Dor; Je’Tar would rather let a girl like Tera think about what it meant to wear the belt while he held her on his lap, or placed her over it for a mild hand spanking to teach her better manners. He would rather use the discipline belt to make her beg for him to satisfy the ache between her taut thighs after he had given her bottom the correction she had earned.
Tera whimpered a little as she felt the band of leather go around her waist and heard the soft jingle of the locking buckle Je’Tar fastened behind her back. Her hands trembled as he imprisoned her slender wrists in the cuffs. She tried instinctively to move them to cover herself as he stepped back, and whimpered again when she found herself prevented, her wrists raised to her waist and immobilized in their restraints.
Ge’Dor, his nose flat and sullen, looked Tera up and down. “Turn around, girl. Bend over,” he said in English.
“Why?” Tera said, obviously terrified and unable to help herself from this questioning.
“I want see marks I make on bottom,” Ge’Dor said. “But Je’Tar whip you for question. Girl no question He’Ban. Turn. Bend. Show bottom. Je’Tar whip.”
Je’Tar tried to keep his frustration from showing in the position of his nose. Ge’Dor was fully within his rights to ask that Tera be punished for questioning his command to turn.
She looked at him with wide, imploring eyes. “Do as Captain Ge’Dor says, Tera,” he said, doing his best to make his voice stern without also making it harsh. “You will learn the rules soon. For now, it’s best simply to do as you’re told.”
Tera chewed charmingly on the inside of her cheek. Again her wrists strained against the bonds into which her unknowingly disobedient conduct had brought her. To Je’Tar’s delight he thought he could see in her face the beginnings of trust in him—perhaps, if he won at the hearing, this stupidity of Ge’Dor’s might serve to make the human girl for whom he felt increasingly certain he had the ut’wei-qe more affectionate toward him.
Tera turned and bent. Her creamy, prettily rounded bottom showed the red welts Ge’Dor’s strap had made very sweetly, Je’Tar thought. He reflected, as he did fairly often, on the mystery of the He’Ban warriors’ apparently instinctive attraction to the pert bottom of the young human female. He’Ban females possessed no such protrusion, nor was it anatomically easy to have anal sex with them. In the days when He’Ban warriors had disciplined their bonded mates, the strap had fallen on the upper thighs of the miscreant female.
But Je’Tar, like Ge’Dor he knew, and like a great number of He’Ban officers, found in a pleasure-girl’s backside a marvelous source of erotic joy. The ancestral human notions about girls’ bottoms meant that Tera’s own feelings would enhance Je’Tar’s enjoyment of her greatly in that area, whether training her with his hand, the strap, a plug, or finally his hard cock. The shame and anxiety she felt now as she complied with Ge’Dor’s command to show the evidence of her correction would mean a face suffused with blushes as she learned of Je’Tar’s favorite pleasures—the ones he took in her most private place, the little hole so perfectly located deep in the sweet valley of her rear end.
He had to punish her now, though, because Ge’Dor had requested it. He didn’t have to do it in any particular way, however, and at this moment
he felt not the slightest need to gratify his fellow captain in any way. Even if he had thought Tera deserved or needed strict correction now, he would have spared her simply to aggravate Ge’Dor.
Je’Tar stepped forward quickly, and put his seven-fingered left hand on the belt that girded Tera’s waist. She gave a little cry of surprise and fear, but she didn’t have time to worry about what would happen next because Je’Tar gave her one sharp spank with his right hand, covering her entire bottom with the outspread fingers and the broad palm and making her cry out as the sound of the blow rang off the metal walls.
“Obey your masters,” he said simply, and straightened up. When he looked over at Ge’Dor, he saw to his satisfaction great annoyance in the sideways tilt of the officer’s nose. He turned back to Tera. “Stand up, now, girl. You will come with me to my starship, the Swiftarrow.”
* * *
Once the cell door had closed behind them, leaving Ge’Dor inside in what even Tera could tell must be a foul mood, she followed Je’Tar, walking fast, though very awkwardly in the awful discipline belt, to catch up with him. He turned, though, stopping, and said, “You must walk a pace behind me, Tera. I know you are full of questions, and I will try to answer them when we reach the Swiftarrow, but for now you must begin to learn the rules. Pleasure-girls walk behind warriors, when they are permitted to accompany them.”
Tera’s heart beat faster even than the brisk walking had brought about. She had thought for a few moments that Je’Tar might actually care about what happened to her—that the inexplicable-to-human-understanding scene that had just taken place must mean that he had decided to protect her. When he had given her the single, painful spank that quickly faded into an itchy longing for something she could not have named, she had felt sure that somehow she had found a defender.
Now, though, his stern tone and his repeated insistence that Tera learn the rules frightened her all over again. Je’Tar’s desire to take her away from Ge’Dor could only mean that he wanted her for himself, she realized. What would he do when he had her in private? He had already locked her into this terrible belt that roused so many conflicting feelings in her, with its implications about to whom the most private parts of her body belonged.
He led her down one corridor full of humans, then down another. The fully clothed men and women around her in the halls displayed reactions to her nudity and her bondage that Tera at first found confusing. It seemed clear from their facial expressions that they didn’t see a naked pleasure-girl with a red bottom follow a He’Ban warrior every day. On the other hand, it also seemed that the aliens’ human employees also knew that their jobs in the liaison facility depended on what they did when they did observe such a spectacle. Tera’s confusion dissipated when she realized that these humans who facilitated her sexual servitude must be under orders to do two contradictory things when they saw a girl being led to her service as an alien plaything: they must both fall back to let the warrior take his possession where he wanted and they must appear not to have seen anything at all.
They reached a small room that seemed entirely featureless except for a sign on the wall that read Earth Liaison. Tera frowned. Why would they label a room deep in the facility that way? Anyone who had come there must know where he or she was, surely?
Je’Tar pointed to one other element of the room’s design, which Tera hadn’t at first observed: along the far wall of the chamber, on the floor, red dots had been painted.
“Stand there, Tera,” he said, his voice very even, not gentle but also not severe. She glanced at him, a little anxious that to stand on a red dot might mean some new form of punishment.
“Do not look me in the eye without permission,” he said, his nose dropping a little. Displeasure? Patience? “Do not look any He’Ban in the eye unless he has requested it. Do you understand?”
Tera bit her lip and looked down at the red dots. Would it hurt to stand on one?
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Yes, sir,” Je’Tar corrected. “Say it.”
“Yes, sir,” Tera said, her voice nearly failing her.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice softening so markedly that Tera almost couldn’t keep herself from looking at his face to see what his nose had done. The words had an effect on her she could never have anticipated: all the hope she had had when he had saved her from being whipped until she couldn’t stand up and then deflowered by Ge’Dor, which had faded as he put her in the belt and spanked her, and had nearly disappeared as he’d walked her brusquely down the corridor—it all came back, redoubled by his praise.
A wave of happiness washed through her heart and her limbs. Her rational mind found the emotion completely ridiculous, but Tera had no real wish to deny that to hear the alien officer call her a good girl had made her feel truly good for the first time since her school administrator had called her into his office to tell her the He’Ban had chosen her for the pleasure service.
“Now go stand on the dot.”
Tera felt her brow crease. She had no doubt that the red dot meant punishment. Why else would it be red? But Je’Tar had called her a good girl, and she could tell that he really intended to teach her—to take care of her, as her parents, dead in a terrorist attack by the human resistance, had never been able to do and the school had never had any wish to do. If this strange, enormous red warrior thought that it would help her to be punished on the red dot and learn yet another lesson, she would do it.
She stepped forward, her mind once more called back to her servile status and her coming sexual training by the clinking of the belt and the way it kept her hands at her waist. Two steps, and she stood on the dot, trembling.
To Tera’s astonishment, Je’Tar came to stand on the dot next to hers. She kept her eyes upon his enormous feet, their fourteen toes seeming to her like a guarantor of stability, somehow. She watched them turn, as the warrior put the wall at his back.
“Turn around, Tera,” he said gently. “It will help in case there’s disorientation.”
Tera bit back a What? and did turn, so that she faced the Earth Liaison sign.
Disorientation? What does he...
The sign changed. Its characters were in a strange script she had never seen before. Did she feel a tiny lurch in her tummy? She couldn’t tell whether that was just because of the changing of the sign, or whether something more fundamental had taken place. The floor seemed exactly the same, but did she feel a sort of thrumming in it, and hear a faint, deep hum?
“Welcome to my ship, Tera,” Je’Tar said beside her. “We’ll go to my quarters for a while, so I can try to explain what is happening, but then I must bring you to the pleasure station. Don’t be afraid. Because of my challenge with Ge’Dor, you won’t have to serve an officer until the matter is resolved. You will benefit from seeing the other pleasure-girls of the ship, too, and they will explain your duties better than I probably can.”
Chapter Six
“We are...” Tera stopped herself, obviously once again afraid of breaking a rule.
“You may speak,” Je’Tar said, in a voice he tried to modulate to convey patience, though he knew he often had grave difficulty in conveying the subtler, softer human emotions.
Tera’s face had gone pink as she looked at the floor—or actually, he realized as he followed her eye line, his knees. Was she wondering about what he had between his legs? She had seen Ge’Dor’s cock for a moment before that offspring of a herd beast retracted it, hadn’t she? The thought that the girl for whom he felt ut’wei-qe had blushed at her curiosity about that part of Je’Tar’s body made him swell down there inside his te’nop, the protective plate of bone that had exerted such a decisive influence on He’Ban evolution.
What if he freed himself right here in the transfer chamber and had Tera kneel before him, so that he could begin to train her to the cock? Wouldn’t it be a kindness to resolve her anxious curiosity and to let her see the sight that human girls found so frightening at first, to explain to her why she need
not fear? Wouldn’t it help Je’Tar think straight, to come in his sweet girl’s mouth and watch her swallow her first warrior’s seed?
My sweet girl. Je’Tar felt his nose descend in concern as he caught himself thinking of Tera that way. Better to calm himself and to try to help Tera in a less threatening fashion.
“We’re on your ship?” she said, her voice rising in tone so that, Je’Tar realized after a moment, the indicative statement became a question. English and its strange use of pitch, he thought for something like the thousandth time. Pora, Je’Tar’s first human girl, aboard the starship on which he had served as second lieutenant, had tried so hard to explain, but neither then nor later had he gained the ability to recognize the language’s tones fluently and without careful thought and attention—even this simplest one.
When it came to more complex uses of pitch, like a girl’s lowering her speaking note a minor third to indicate certainty, he felt completely lost. He’Ban pitch, ironically, had much more complexity: the few girls he had tried to teach a few words invariably said te-nop, for example, instead of te’nop, thereby referring to the bone plate from which a warrior’s cock emerged as a dish made from fish roe.
“Yes,” Je’Tar said simply. “Follow me.”
He noted with satisfaction that she fell into step behind him rather than obeying her human instinct to walk abreast with him this time. As soon as they left the transfer chamber, of course, his network-and-processing implant reported straight into his visual cortex three things to which he would have to attend within the hour: an engineer’s report on hull stress, a dispute between a bridge officer and a servile-caste cook, and a notice reminding him to submit his report on the challenge with Ge’Dor. Je’Tar informed his second, Re-Tid, that the captain would take care of both the administrative issues shortly, and received Re-Tid’s acknowledgment a few seconds later.
Then, May I inquire why you left the ship, Captain?
Such a question from one’s second, despite its polite tone, must be answered, according to the star fleet’s standing orders. Re-Tid had responsibility for logging all such events and coding them for central records.
Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas Page 58