by Ashe Barker
“Did I fuck you? Not yet. You were exhausted so I left you to get some sleep. You had a bad dream—do you remember anything of it?”
She frowned, trying to remember, then nodded. “Yes, just snatches now. I was back on that planet with the Galeians, they were chasing me and they cornered me. They were grabbing me, dragging me through dark passageways. Then it was you holding on to me. I was fighting, trying to escape but I couldn’t. There were voices, shouting, chanting that I was a thief and a murderer, that I deserved to die. You said it too, and you threw me into a hole. It was small, I had no room, couldn’t move. I was trapped, and—” She stopped, her chest heaving. “It was so vivid, so real…”
“I know. I could tell. It wasn’t real though. You do know that, don’t you?”
She peered up at him, processing the terrifying events that had seized her imagination and lodged themselves in her subconscious. She seemed to be sifting it in her mind, sorting reality from horrific fantasy. Phahlen waited, allowed her the time she needed. At last she met his gaze again.
“Some of it is real. I am a criminal, a prisoner, convicted and sentenced even though I never had a chance to defend myself. There would have been no point anyway, because no one believes me. Not you, not anyone here.”
“Caria…” he began.
“Don’t bother. I know what you’re going to say. I was on board the Luminaire, so that proves it, proves everything.” She pushed herself from his arms and lay back on the mattress, glaring up at him. “If you want to fuck me, then do it. Then you can take me back to my cell.”
“Do not tempt me, Caria,” he growled.
“Tempt you to what? Beat me again? Lock me up in a cell?”
Phahlen rolled from the bed and stalked to the newly installed housekeeping station. “Vahlean coffee, strong.” He grabbed the small mug when it materialised and took a drink of the bitter brew. He had hoped the rush of near enough pure caffeine might help to clear his head, to make her ridiculous accusations less plausible. It failed. He finished the mug then glowered at the small human huddled in his bed. Fear was starting to replace her earlier flash of defiance. He cared for neither look.
“You are confined to this room until I say different. I’ll be back later.” He marched from the room and locked the door behind him.
Bloody infuriating human.
* * *
“Is Caria all right? I could attend her if need be.” Phahlen looked up from his screen to see Morele hovering at his elbow. The doctor appeared concerned.
“She is fine.” Phahlen was in no mood to discuss his prisoner’s well-being.
“I understand she has been punished for her escape attempt. Forty strokes?”
“Twenty-five in the end. It did the trick.”
The medic appeared relieved and Phahlen bristled. Did his entire crew think he was a monster, mistreating an innocent, defenceless human?
Morele was undeterred by his commander’s brusque attitude. “I was intending to repeat my tests in any case. Is she still in the brig?”
Phahlen shook his head. “My quarters, but under close confinement. No visitors.”
“All the same, Commander, I would feel happier if—”
“All right.” His response had been uttered more sharply than he intended. Phahlen ran his fingers through his hair and instructed himself to get a grip. The medic was just doing his job, and doing it well. “All right, go and check her over.” As the doctor gave a small nod and turned to leave, Phahlen spoke again. “You might check for abnormal sleep patterns too. She had a bad dream.”
“A bad dream?” The doctor frowned. “As in a nightmare?”
Phahlen shrugged. “Maybe. She was screaming in her sleep, fighting, desperate to escape—something. Someone.”
“Does she have these dreams often?”
“No, this was the first one I’ve seen.”
“I will run some tests. It may simply be that she’s finding it hard to adjust to her captivity. If it persists, we may need to consider sedating her.”
Phahlen scowled at the medic’s receding back as the man went off about his duties. He found the prospect of using chemicals to render Caria more accepting of her situation distinctly unpalatable. She would come around to it in time. She had to. It was just as he had told her all along—she had no choice.
* * *
When he re-entered his bedroom several hours later, it was to find Caria in pretty much the same place he had left her. She had been crying again, and he saw no used dishes or utensils to indicate she had eaten. He got her a small dish of some sort of Earth soup from the dispenser, tomato since he had observed that seemed to be her favourite, and carried it over to the bed.
“I could feed this to you.”
“By force?” She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Let’s not go there, Caria. Please, eat it.”
Slowly she extended her hand and took the bowl from him. He placed the spoon in her other hand, and arranged himself beside her to wait until she finished her meal. She took her time, but at last she passed the empty bowl back to him.
“Satisfied now?”
“Getting there. Does your bottom still hurt?”
“Of course it does.”
“Okay. Lie across my lap and—”
“No!”
“I beg your pardon.”
“No, I haven’t done anything. I stayed here, like you said, and…”
“I don’t intend to spank you. I have some salve to help make you more comfortable.”
She peered at him suspiciously. “Salve? Why?”
He didn’t have a good answer for that, even for himself. He settled for the truth.
“Because I want to. Come on, over my lap. Now.”
He managed to inject sufficient authority into his tone to make her obey. Still as naked as she had been yesterday when he strapped her to her bunk, she arranged herself across his knees. Her bottom was still a rosy shade of pink, the welts much less angry after several hours of rest in his bed but he knew it would hurt even so. Caria wasn’t used to such harsh discipline. He must try to remember that.
Phahlen produced a small tube of soothing cream. Morele had given it to him following his visit to Caria and advised it be applied daily for the next few days until the redness faded. The medic had declared Caria fit and well otherwise, and attributed her depressed mood to her recent incarceration and punishment. Phahlen hoped he was right.
“This might sting a bit, but the doctor said it would help.” He took a generous squirt onto his fingers and started to work it into Caria’s punished bottom. She jerked at his touch initially, but soon settled. He rubbed the cream in slowly, careful not to hurt her if he could help it. She didn’t speak, and soon stopped clenching her buttocks. As she relaxed under his gentle touch he saw her eyelids drooping.
“Are you tired, Caria?”
She opened her eyes again. “No, Commander. I slept most of the day. The doctor woke me, and—”
“Any more bad dreams?”
“No, sir.”
“Good.” He continued to massage her bottom as she writhed under his hand.
“Sir…” she began.
“Yes?” He paused. “Is there something you would like me to do for you, Caria?”
He smiled to himself as her face flushed. Such a sensuous little thing; she might hate him, hate her situation here on his ship, but her body told a different story. She wanted him, wanted this.
“Would you like to spread your thighs for me, girl?”
“Yes, sir,” she murmured, moving her knees apart. The new position raised her hips slightly, and he leaned around to catch a clear glimpse of her leaking pussy. Her soft, pink folds were fat and wet, the moisture gleaming. Her arousal was unmistakable, as was his own. He had only to shift a fraction and his solid cock would be pressed against her side. He’d been hard almost since he ordered her to strip yesterday, his balls ached with it but he wouldn’t force her. Not after her angry accusation earlier. He
didn’t entirely accept her interpretation of events, but she had a point of sorts and he had his pride.
He slid his hand between her thighs to test her wetness. She groaned and lifted her hips higher. Two fingers slid inside her and she shivered as she tightened around him. She wanted this, wanted him, he knew it but wanted to hear her acknowledge it too.
“I shall fuck you, but you will have to ask me.”
“What does it matter, you’ll do it anyway.”
“No, not unless you ask.”
“What about… about…?”
“I am not worried about that. You will ask me.”
“Never.”
“Are you sure?” He took her plump clit between his fingers and squeezed lightly. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“Commander! Oh…” She started to writhe and thrust her hips, and he loosened his hold on her swollen nub. “Please, don‘t stop…”
He chuckled, convinced she’d let out her plea without thinking. He took her clit in his fingers again and resumed his sensuous caress. This time he circled and stroked and squeezed until she was right there, nudging the point of no return, that sweet moment when her cunt would contract hard around his fingers as her body relinquished control to him. He caught that exact moment, and stopped.
“Sir, Phahlen… please.” She was whimpering, her face turned to him, her eyes shimmering. “Is this another punishment?”
“No, little human. You have only to ask and I’ll let you come all over my cock.”
“I can’t. Won’t.”
“I know you can, but maybe you won’t. Your loss, Caria.”
“Sir,” she wailed as she thumped the mattress with her fists. “Are all Vahleans mean bastards like you?”
“Pretty much. Not that you need to worry yourself about other Vahleans.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You are mine, little Caria. All mine.”
He slid his hand back between her legs to rub her engorged clit, just once, enough to bring her groaning back to the brink. Her pussy was so wet he thought he might drown in her juices. Caria wriggled, trying to rub her tortured clit against his leg. Phahlen raised his hand to deliver a sharp slap to her buttock but thought better of it; now was not the time for hurting her, even in play. Instead he inserted three fingers into her tight channel and went to work on that sweet spot inside.
It was the better approach, and he was rewarded within minutes.
“Okay, you win.” She clamped her pussy tight around his fingers as he stilled to listen to her.
“Win?” When she didn’t answer he curled his fingers inside her to remind her he was there. “What do I win, Caria?”
“Fuck me. Please.” Her voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her words. Almost.
“What was that, girl? You will have to speak up.”
“I said, I want you to fuck me. There, good enough?”
“Where are your manners, girl? You should ask nicely.”
“I said please.”
“Did you? I did not hear,” he lied. “Say it again. Louder.”
“Please, please, please!”
He withdrew his fingers and with a swift motion lifted her to set her astride his thighs. Her gaze on his chest was hungry as he dragged the tunic top of his uniform over his head and reached to unfasten his pants.
“Let me,” she breathed.
Phahlen lay back and allowed her to loosen the waistband and drag down the front of his pants. His cock sprang free and she wrapped her small hand around it, quickly bringing her other hand into play too. He hissed his approval as she pumped slowly up and down the full length of his erection.
Caria leaned forward to kiss the smooth head, then drew her tongue across the top. She grinned up at him, licking her lips. “Salt,” she declared. “You taste of salt, and something else. Something familiar…”
“Caria…”
“I want to play, Commander. I want to taste you, and touch you, and… lots more. But, I can’t wait.”
“Then do not. Take what you want, girl.”
She let out a grateful sob as she moved forward to position herself above him. She angled the head of his cock to her entrance and settled a little, just enough to ensure he was caught between her pussy lips. She lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes dark with arousal.
“You made me say it, that I wanted you to fuck me.”
He nodded slowly, uncertain where this was headed. If she changed her mind now…
“But I never said I wanted to fuck you.”
“No,” he agreed. “You did not say that. And do you? To use the parlance you clearly prefer, do you want to fuck me, girl?”
She didn’t answer, but her smile told its own story as she sank slowly down onto his cock.
“Shit, yes!” he growled as she started to rock against his solid shaft. “Shit, yes, yes, yes.”
Chapter Ten
They settled back into their old routine, more or less. Caria fully expected to find herself hauled off and incarcerated in the brig as soon as Phahlen was finished with her, but that didn’t happen. Phahlen allowed her to stay in his bed, but she was denied the freedom of his entire quarters she had enjoyed before her escape. She was confined to his sleeping chamber and the adjoining bathroom facilities, and only permitted to venture out into the living area when he was present. Caria chafed at the restrictions initially, but didn’t argue. She knew things could easily be worse.
The visits by Private East were at an end. Phahlen assured her the young crewman had been fairly disciplined for allowing her to escape, but his career wouldn’t suffer unduly as a result. He was a novice, lacking in experience, but Todd East had learnt from his mistake.
Caria missed her Obelisk opponent, but Phahlen showed her how to play against the ship’s computer. She set the degree of difficulty to high so she did at least get a decent game out of it. Todd had been no match for her but she missed human companionship.
Over the weeks that followed she knew that Phahlen spent as much time with her as he could, and he was always pleasant enough, in bed and out of it. The sex between them was, if anything, hotter than it had been. Their chemistry sizzled and she was honest enough to admit—if only to herself—that this smouldering passion between them owed much to her own acceptance that it was what she wanted too. That was perhaps the greatest irony, she often thought. If things had been different, if she had come aboard the Empyrean as a normal guest, a respected citizen of a world allied to Vahle, she would have sympathised with the predicament faced by her Vahlean hosts. Had Phahlen asked it of her, she might well have agreed to help.
But he hadn’t asked. He had taken. He had commandeered her entire life, her future, and her own home world had allowed it.
The messages from her parents were both a blessing and a curse. She loved to hear from them, to know they hadn’t forgotten her, that she was still their precious daughter whatever she might have done.
But I didn’t do anything, unless it’s a crime to be duped into thinking you’re in love.
Caria had become used to blinking back tears, she had cried enough for several lifetimes and self-pity would get her nowhere. Especially now. Her captor was not a fool, he was sure to realise soon that his efforts on behalf of his planet had paid off.
Caria was excited, delighted, and terrified all at once. She had suspected for a week or so, but was now convinced of one momentous fact. She was pregnant.
Under her private joy, however, lurked fear of what this might mean for her. When Phahlen found out, her precarious existence would change forever. His job done, he would have no further reason to keep her on board the Empyrean. He could have his quarters back and be rid of the security hassles that his reluctant mate presented for him. The logical course would be to ship her back to his home world, at least until this child was born and she was ready to conceive again. Phahlen was nothing if not logical.
In the days since she had become certain of her pregnancy, Caria had given the matter a lot of thought and
concluded that her situation had become, if anything, more urgent than ever. She was already closely confined, well-guarded, and that would only increase as soon as her condition was known. Once on Vahle, if Phahlen did choose to send her there, escape would be near enough impossible. She had no knowledge of that planet or the people there, and hadn’t the slightest notion how she might survive alone. Even if she could somehow manage to elude her captors she couldn’t contemplate abandoning her child or exposing the baby to the hazards she would likely face. She had waited too long to become a mother to just throw it all away.
No, if she was ever to achieve her goal of returning to Earth, she had to act soon. Somehow, before Phahlen discovered her pregnancy, she had to find some way to get out of here. On board the Empyrean she did at least know her way to the cargo bay now, and she’d seen the satellite craft stored there in readiness to launch. She couldn’t face the escape pods again, but she might manage to launch a small craft and get away. She was no trained pilot, but she knew the basics. It was worth a try.
She glanced up as Phahlen entered the bedroom. He had a communications disc in his hand, another message from Earth.
“Here, this arrived for you.” He passed it to her.
Caria thanked him and slid it into the console beside the housekeeping station. Her father’s face appeared on the screen.
“Sweetheart, I hope this reaches you in time.”
What? Caria let out a small cry. Phahlen heard her and came to stand behind her, his hand on her shoulder. Together they watched the image on the video display.
“Your mother is ill. Her heart, you understand. She’s not been well for a while, but yesterday she… she…” Her father’s familiar features crumpled, his worry and grief apparent.
“Daddy…” Caria’s voice was a mere whisper. She leaned forward, her gaze riveted to the screen. “Is she, is she…”
Her father looked back into the camera and made an obvious attempt to pull himself together. After a few moments he managed to continue. “She’s in the infirmary, and responding to treatment. A synthetic heart has been fitted, but you know what she’s like. She won’t take things easy, and she worries about everything.”