"Thinking of the spanking?"
She was staring a hole in the floor. "Yes."
Okay. It was okay. This was a strange tightrope he was walking.
"Dry off now, and meet me out there." He tossed his towel on the floor and marched into the bedroom. He considered staying naked but his totally stiff cock might make lying over his lap a little difficult for her, so he slipped on some pants and sat in one of the chairs to wait.
He glanced over at the spanking bench, once more covered with the blanket. He'd considered using it, but this first time he knew he'd get a better feel for her reactions, her true feelings, by keeping her as close as possible, his skin touching hers. Besides, he liked having a woman over his lap. Maybe in another day or so...
His palm itched with anticipation. It had been a while since he'd given anyone a spanking. He'd been too goddamn busy. He certainly never expected to reacquaint himself with his favorite activity during this trip.
Safe word. The phrase popped into his mind. Shit. She'd probably never heard of one, and would never dream of calling it out anyway. He couldn't forget she was a real slave, and despite her willing participation she was trained to accept whatever was given to her, no matter how harsh. He was going to have to be very, very careful.
She appeared in the bathroom door, still completely naked. With a quick glance towards the spanking bench and a look he could swear was longing, she took a deep breath and walked bravely towards him.
He smiled at her and she tentatively smiled back. He pointed at his lap, and she laid herself over it as though she'd done this a hundred times. She wiggled to get comfortable, her hands just reaching the floor on the other side, and he stifled a groan as she jostled his cock.
He ran a hand over the still-damp skin on her round, soft ass. The sight of the damage to her bottom and back made him wince and he felt his anger flare up again at the injustice she'd endured. His resolve to spank her wavered and he felt his cock deflate.
"Sir?" she asked from underneath the curtain of hair falling forward over her head.
"Hmm?"
"It's all right. I feel your, uh, hesitation, but it's okay. What you're going to do is different from what was done to me, and I like this kind of pain."
Her openness floored him. Very few submissive women could state their desires so plainly. He slid his hand down between her legs and into her folds and was reassured that she was still soaking wet. He thrust his fingers in and out, wresting wonderful moans that drifted up from their origin near the floor. One of his fingers deliberately brushed her clit again and she bucked up and screeched.
He chuckled and shook his head. "Hmm. I'd better leave that alone for now. It's going to get you in trouble again. So, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to warm up your bottom for several minutes. Those spanks don't count. Then I'm going to spank you thoroughly for coming without permission. And I promise I'm going to watch you closely to see how you're doing."
"Thank you, sir," came the quiet reply.
He lifted his hand and brought it down in a short, sharp smack. "Oh!" came her reaction, but nothing more. Again, he did the same thing, and after no struggling and hardly any reaction, he increased the sting a little with each spank. He peppered her cheeks with smack after smack, watching the beautiful round globes bounce back after each one. She began to shift a little as he increased the strength of the smacks. Her bottom took on a soft pink between the red marks of the cruel whip. He had to admit he loved the combination of colors.
He heard her start to grunt in response to each smack. He stopped and soothed the dark pink skin, knowing that the massage would ease the sting and help her relax. Once more, his hand dipped between her legs to check the situation and she was wetter than before, if that was even possible. He gripped her around the waist with one hand to hold her still and with the other, he teased her clit. She threw up her head and let out a long, low moan.
"You tell me when you're getting close to coming, do you hear?"
"Yes, sir! Oh! Please! Oh!" She ceased pleading in favor of continuous whimpering. It only took a minute before she cried out. "I'm going to come!"
He pulled his hand away and ceased all physical contact. This time she wailed at the lost sensation but didn't protest.
"Look at that. Nice and swollen, and aching to be spanked. What do you think?"
"Yes, please, sir. Please spank me there." Her voice was so soft he almost missed it. Well, damn.
His smacks came hard now, and he had to hold her tight to keep her from struggling right off his lap. He listened for sounds of real distress, but heard only whimpers and cries. He stopped to soothe the reddened flesh and she sighed. He slipped his finger back up to her clit and gave it several light, teasing strokes.
"Got to keep this nice and swollen for a few more minutes."
This time she let out a sob.
The spanks continued, all over her ass, a few on the tender junction between her thighs and legs. Her keening grew in volume and her struggles grew more frantic. He wished she belonged to him so that he could know her well enough to take her right up to that wonderful edge of 'too much', and pause just a millimeter away from it.
He soothed the hot and reddened flesh as the sobs beneath him stilled. Her slit beckoned to him, the edges swollen and gaping and hinting of depths begging to be plundered. He took the opportunity to slip two fingers way up inside. She groaned. There was still room, so he slipped a third finger inside. Her moaning grew louder and more desperate.
"So nice and tight. But I think you could handle a little more."
"No, please, no more," she whimpered. He stilled. Was this the pleading of someone at her limits? Or the pleading that submissives loved to do in hopes that their Dom would ignore them and forge right ahead?
He crossed his mental fingers and started to work his fourth finger in. It was tight. Very tight. Wonderfully tight. She tried to pull away but his grip around her waist was sure. He slid the fingers back and forth, a little deeper each time. She groaned and sobbed and made grunting noises, but at last the fourth finger was all the way in.
"How does that feel?"
"So full, Master. Like– like I've been invaded."
"Is that good, or bad?"
"Good, Master. Very good."
He did a mental cheer. He pumped all four fingers in and out slowly, then removed his index finger. He held her tight as he brushed her clit. She bucked and screeched.
"Master, if you don't want me to come–!"
He pulled his fingers completely out and she let out a cry. She'd spread her legs apart as he'd invaded her, and he took advantage of that by raising his hand up and bringing it down with a hard spank between her legs, right over her clit. She let out a strangled cry and snapped her legs shut.
"Open them." There was no room for negotiation in his tone. She relaxed her tense muscles and let her legs fall apart as she whimpered in anticipation of his next smack. He slapped his hand down hard on the swollen red tissues and immediately plunged three fingers back inside while the fourth rubbed her clit hard.
"Come!"
She screamed and shook with convulsion after convulsion. When he finally stopped tormenting the swollen bud, she collapsed across his knees. He stroked and soothed her, then carefully rolled her over and pulled her unresisting form onto his lap where he cradled her against his chest.
Eventually he stood her on her feet long enough to turn her to the bed and help her lay face down. He knelt down beside the bed and wiped at the tears tracks across her face.
"Everything okay?"
She nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm fine." She smiled, her eyes dropping down and her cheeks reddening. "You're good at this."
"Thank you. It's been a while since I've had the opportunity." He picked up one of her hands and kissed it. "And I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather spank."
The corner of her mouth lifted. "Is that a compliment, sir?"
"Absolutely." He helped her sit up. "Breakfast?"
> She looked down at the bulge in his pants and back up with a question in her eyes.
"Oh, don't worry. It's not going anywhere."
She looked at him with wide eyes. "Then, yes. Please."
Auction Day
He ordered room service and as they ate he finally shared the secret of his trip to Midros. She'd heard of Oblita, and even the difficulties of using it off-planet. He told her that he had a strong suspicion that the answer he needed was in that room they'd discovered. "In many cultures, knowledge of natural medicine rests with women, especially if a male-dominated culture feels that anything to do with nature is old-fashioned or unscientific."
She nodded. That was exactly how she would describe her world. Always eager to try the newest advanced thing and never realizing that maybe the best was something older, or rested in the wisdom of those who didn't hold power.
"So, let's get in there soon, before there's a possibility that Raym would come down. We'll find a handful of books and bring them out to the main room."
Their plan decided upon, they dressed, and Lydia chose the least see-through outfit she had. She hadn't planned on trying not to be a distraction to someone this week. Nevertheless, James let out a whistle and a groan as he emerged from the bathroom to see a red dress, the front and back joined at the shoulders but open down the sides, held close to her by a wide strip of fabric, and ending with another short fluttery skirt.
"It's going to be difficult to get anything done looking at you, that's for sure."
"Sir, I'd still be happy to relieve your, um, stress." In truth, she was anxious to get her mouth on his cock again.
"There's an eagerness in your voice that I love. But once I start thinking of work, I can't stop. I promise, I'll put you to use later."
Why did that phrase 'put you to use' make her wet all over again? She'd been put to use hundreds of times as a slave, and never gotten as much pleasure out of it as at this moment. She shook her head as he offered his arm.
They walked down to the lobby. She looked more at the people this time instead of the floor. She watched women who, despite their black collars, walked with confidence beside their partners, not having to be held on to or walk behind them. She saw women who talked loudly, who laughed heartily, who knew that their words were being listened to with respect.
Who got to take the black collars off when they left.
Coming to this hotel was a double-edged sword. It was beautiful, but it showed her a side of life she suddenly wanted, and could never have. She dropped her eyes to the floor for the rest of their trip out the front door.
Once they were in the lift, she relaxed. It was easier when she didn't see the forbidden. Until the doors opened and once again she was confronted with miles of books that she wasn't supposed to read. She sighed.
They spent the whole morning searching though books they brought from the secret room and kept tucked away in a corner of the main room. She translated page after page of information on wild plants, natural medicines, biochemistry, and also a version of history she'd never heard before. One that included women as partners, if not full equals, in the scientific fields. She felt her mind fill with information like a sponge soaking up water. She could never get enough.
Raym did indeed come down, and they scrambled to hide the Eluiim books, so that by the time the elevator doors opened James was reading from a Br'ini text and Lydia was on her knees next to him, staring at the floor and trying to look bored.
She listened as James did his best impression of a scientist immersed in his subject who really didn't want to be disturbed. He gave a negative report on the search but said he'd found more texts to read.
"So, what are you doing with her all day, then?"
"She kneels there. Occasionally I'll have her give me a back rub if my shoulders get sore, and every few hours she gives me a blowjob. It's quite nice, actually. I'm starting to see the benefits of owning a real slave, not some pretend one who can walk away when she gets bored."
Raym laughed and patted James on the back. "Never thought I'd hear you say that. Do you need me to stay?"
"No," James answered quickly. "I'm fine. I'm getting better with the translations, and besides, I'm not sure I'd want an audience when, you know..." he gestured towards Lydia.
"Right. Okay. Call me if you need anything."
"Will do."
Lydia heard the lift door ding and open. When it had closed, James let out his breath. "I know him well enough to know he won't be back today. It's past lunch. Shall we emerge from this darkness into the light for a while?"
She was startled to realize how long they'd been working. As much as she didn't want to leave, her stomach gave a loud growl and vetoed her reluctance. They made their way up to the sunlight, but instead of pulling her inside the hotel, he kept walking towards the street.
"I want to sit in the sun," he volunteered.
She laughed and held tight to his arm. They made their way around the side of the hotel and towards the park. There was a growing noise of deep voices. Lydia did a mental count in her head and suddenly stopped dead, pulling James to a halt.
"Sir, we don't want to go there."
"Why?"
"Please trust me, you won't like it."
"Is it another punishment day?"
"No."
He raised his eyebrows. "Then what is it?"
She made a face and looked at the ground. "It's auction day."
James stared at her in confusion for a moment before realizing what she meant.
"I need to see." He pulled her forward until he could see around the side of the building.
"James, please!" Lydia begged, but he ignored her.
He took in the crowd, and the raised platform where he had first seen Lydia, and the young woman standing on the stage looking frightened out of her mind...
"Master, please can we go?" she begged. "I've seen this but you haven't and you're going to get angry, I think." Now she looked up at him, her eyes full of tears.
Suddenly it dawned on him that she was afraid of what he might do, not of what was going on.
"Lydia, I'm not going to do anything, okay? I just want to see."
She looked skeptical, but he didn't have time to say anything more before a lone voice raised over the crowd, and everyone stopped talking.
"Gentlemen! Welcome to this month's auction. Our first item today is one and half meters tall, with blue eyes and brown hair. She's a fair cook and definitely trainable. Has an excellent memory..."
They were selling women. In an auction. And this was no pretend or charity auction; this was for real. He looked down at Lydia. He felt a rising tide of anger, just as Lydia had predicted, but he squashed it down for her sake. He spun around, took a deep breath, and with Lydia scrambling to keep up, walked away. Like a coward. Because he couldn't do a damn thing about the monstrosity that he'd just witnessed.
He kept walking for almost two blocks, until he was far enough away that he couldn't hear the auctioneer calling out the bids for the terrified young woman. Lydia trailed along behind like a dutiful slave, until at last he stopped and dropped onto a bench on the sidewalk. She sank to her knees on the concrete pad to the side. Neither said anything for a few minutes, and then she began to talk.
"I'd always known, from my earliest memories, that that auction block was in my future. The schools that train us are outside of town, so I'd never seen one before it was my turn. But the mothers who take care of us there try to prepare us, to reassure us that it's over quickly, that we'll get a better master if we stand up straight and even smile a little."
James looked down at her. She was drawing little circles on the concrete with a stick.
"All of us who'd turned eighteen in the past month – I think there were six of us? – got to pick out what we wanted to wear. That was exciting, because we'd worn a uniform our entire lives. We knew, of course, that at some point during the auction we'd have to take the dress off to show the men our bodies. But f
or a little while, it was fun."
She tossed the stick away and folded her hands in her lap, staring off into the distance.
"They don't feed you the day of the auction, because you're so terrified you'd throw up. It happens sometimes anyway. We were held in a large room with the groups from a couple of other schools, so the wait was endless. One by one a girl was selected and would disappear out the door. I can't imagine what it would be like to be the last one left. We held each other's hands, the six of us, knowing we probably wouldn't ever see each other again." She was trembling.
"Lydia, you don't–"
"The hotels are always there, looking for deals, the girls that for one reason or another are going cheap. They need maids, restaurant workers, and if you're lucky, front desk staff. If you aren't, you clean bathrooms. The hospital needs cleaning staff. The restaurants need cooks, and they'll even pay to get good ones." She chuckled once. "The wealthy homes want good cooks, too. Sometimes there are bidding wars. The fortunate ones don't go to the restaurants.
"I was lucky. I stood up straight and even managed to smile. A good master bought me. He paid a lot of money for me. His First Slave, Bena, is like a mother to me, and the other slaves have become my sisters. Someday I hope that I'll meet a man who will want to buy me and make me a First Slave. We all dream of that. But if not, I hope that Master will keep me around for a while. He's older, though, and after he dies?" She shrugged. "Who knows."
They sat in silence. James struggled to figure out what to say. If he was honest, a large part of him wanted to get on the next ship and get the hell off of Midros and never look back. The hell with the money. The hell with the fame. This place was evil.
But he couldn't leave the beautiful brown-eyed woman kneeling next to him. Not yet. He wondered if there was a way to keep that from ever happening...
They walked for a while, not saying much, and sat on the ground to eat like the first day, before returning to the quiet dampness of the Archives. The afternoon was as fruitless as the morning. They poured through book after book, both in Br'ini and Eluiim. Because there was no catalog that they could find, they had to scour the shelves in the secret room visually. Lydia gave James more than one backrub, though he declined her offer of a mid-afternoon blowjob with a smile. When James stumbled over a word in Br'ini, Lydia helped him figure it out, growing more confident each time with her ability.
Memories of Surrender (Midrosian Chronicles Book 1) Page 9