"I don't think so, my little alien." With one hand he grabbed both of my wrists and pinned my arms above my head and resumed his torture, this time on the other nipple, as I bucked and pleaded and almost had an orgasm at the dual sensations of torment and restraint.
I was almost incoherent when he eased off and let my arms go free. I lay panting underneath him, staring into his eyes with a lust so strong I'm sure he could hear it. He smiled and moved off my legs, then picked them up as one and bent them straight up. He paused as he held them there, fondling my cunt and my ass. Without warning he smacked me hard, just once, on the very area that was still tender from the last punishment.
"Ow! Why did you do that?" I acted annoyed, but in truth it sent an electric shock straight to my clit.
"Because I can," he grinned. "And I plan to do it any time I want to. Any second thoughts?"
"Um, no." I grinned back at him. He knew me very well by now.
"However," he continued, "I have other plans right now." He split my legs apart and moved between them, rubbing his rigid cock over my swollen clit, positioning it at my entrance. There was no need to ask if I was wet enough to take him – I could feel the juices sliding down my thighs. Again he captured my wrists and held them above my head.
"Ready?” he looked at me.
My lust had risen to unimaginable heights in the last few seconds. "Please! Now!" I begged.
"I love it when you beg." With a loud cry, he pushed into me in one swift movement, all the way in until I felt as though he would hit my tonsils. My cry came seconds after his and I arched off the bed. He pulled out and paused, then thrust in again, and again I cried out.
He stopped. "I promise there will be a time and a place for gentle loving, but today I'm going to lay claim to your body." And with that he set up a pattern of thrusts and withdrawals that had me crying out in ecstatic agony as he hit my cervix each time. He reached down and found my clit and set up a rocking motion that mimicked his in-and-out movements and in less than a minute I was screaming through the biggest orgasm I'd ever had. That must have been enough for him, because my scream was followed by his bellow as he held himself rigid above me with a look of almost pain that made his face squeeze tight. Finally he took a breath and relaxed, still holding himself up, but letting his head drop down as he panted.
"Samial, are you all right?" I asked with concern.
He nodded and eased himself down next to me, letting go of my hands and pulling me into his chest. It took another minute before he could talk.
"That is the first time since – well, in a very long time – that I've had sex," he confided.
"Since Seranay?"
"Yes," he admitted. "I never felt I had the right to, since that horrible night."
"You do now," I assured him. "As often as you can, I hope."
"Are you sure about that? I have an awful lot of time to make up for," he teased.
I pretended to shudder. "If I can make it through ten of the worst punishments your people could devise, I think I can live though your love-making."
"I think that sounds like a challenge."
Chapter 3 – Beginnings
He promised to show me the best parts of his world, and he kept that promise. Over the next few months we roamed all across the globe, seeing snow-capped mountains, deserts, vast oceans, and roaring rivers. I took all of it in with wonder. The best trip of all took us to a breathtaking crack in the crust of the planet. I looked across for the other side but it was shrouded in mist. I looked down towards the bottom but saw nothing.
"Can you imagine the first people who came here several thousand years ago, just walking along, and coming across this?"
I nodded. "That would be quite the detour they'd have to take."
"Seriously."
That night when I crawled into the big bed at our home I had something in my hand. I was grinning.
"What has you all quivering, my little alien?"
I held out my hand to show him the purple stick. He looked at it and back up to me. His first reaction was joy. A moment later it was something else.
"What's the matter?" I asked, confused. Getting pregnant had been the whole point of getting on the space ship in the first place.
"I'm afraid," he admitted. "I'm afraid that… if you do have more than one baby in there, I'm afraid for you. If something happens it will be all my fault for tricking you into coming."
I took his head in my hands and kissed him thoroughly. "I've had more joy since I arrived than in my entire life. Nothing is going to happen, but if it does, I'm not afraid. You'll protect me, I know. No matter what." He took me into his arms and we lay there silently, planning for the future.
There was one more place he wanted to show me before it became dangerous for me to travel, and so, with the blessing of the doctor, we set off. By this time I was beginning to bulge in the middle, the two little girls inside growing bigger each day. I knew there was a long pregnancy ahead, but so far I felt good.
We climbed up a hill and looked out over the ruins of an enormous city, a memorial of sorts to the wasteful and destructive ways of their ancestors.
His eyes gazed out over the miles of broken buildings. "Our planet looked like yours a long time ago. We were about to die in our own filth and no one in the galaxy would have missed us. Somehow we managed to turn it around." He turned to look at me. "Leina, your people can, too. We're going to help them, I promise. Our scientists have been talking to yours and they have already started some things. We're not going to abandon them, I promise."
"Thank you," I said softly. That meant the world – literally – to me.
I must have shivered then, for he pulled me in close, sheltering me from the brisk wind.
Over the last months as my skin had been exposed to real sun and good food for the first time ever, the color had darkened slightly and now resembled the arm that held me tight. In truth, when I look at holograms of my people now, they look almost translucent and sick. Even the strange hair that grew on Samiel's face that he shaved every morning had started to seem normal, though the idea of scraping something really sharp against the tender skin still made me shudder and I couldn't watch him do it.
I twisted around to gaze up into his eyes and was once more struck by the intense blue that was the color of a summer sky here. Coming from a planet of copper-eyed people, it had taken me a long time to get used to it, but now I hoped our daughters would have the same color.
"There's one more thing here I want to show you," he smiled down at me. "It's at the water's edge."
I peered in the direction he was pointing. I could barely make out what seemed to be a green torch with a giant gold flame, rising from a stone wall that projected into the harbor.
"It's all that's left of a huge monument called the Statue of Liberty. Hundreds of years ago it was a welcome of sorts to people who made the journey across the ocean to seek a better home. There was a poem on it – I had to memorize it in school –
'Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!' "
The flame almost seemed to dance with the light of the setting sun. I smiled as the two little girls inside me gave a hard kick. The journey had indeed been tempest-tost, but on this beautiful green and blue planet I had found my home.
About Sophie Kisker
Sophie is a nurse, wife, and mother by day, but at night she morphs into a recluse with a laptop who would be happy if she could live in a cave – as long as it came with electricity and an espresso machine. You’ll never catch her writing stories of gentle tender love unless they include a hefty dose of domination, submission, and at least one serious “spakking.”
You can find her series “Finding Home: An Erotic Tale of Slavery, Love, and War” at all major ebook retailers, and come follow h
er at www.sophiekisker.com, or on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/sophie.kisker.9/
Also by Sophie Kisker
Odyssey: Finding Home Book 1
What would you do if you were torn away from your home and family, chosen by lottery to become a public symbol of the defeat of your people? To be put on display by the victor as a symbol of his power? To enter a world of service, of domination and submission - of pleasure and punishment?
When Liz Peltier becomes a mere pawn in an old political game, she must struggle to answer these questions for herself. She must reconcile her thoroughly modern self with the growing realization that her deepest fulfillment comes when she is on her knees. And when she finds that the people who are holding her may not actually be the enemy, she realizes it might just be possible for her to find happiness in the midst of tragedy.
Should she fight her feelings, or choose to embrace them?
Come follow Liz on her odyssey - from fear to love, and from heartache to home.
*This book contains adult themes that only some readers may be comfortable with, including a few difficult situations our heroine must overcome, lots of spankings, some anal sex, nice doses of consensual sexual service, and a really hot Master.
Buy Links:
Odyssey (Finding Home Book 1)
Sanctuary (Finding Home Book 2)
Refining Fire (Finding Home Book 3)
The First Time
By Christine Hart
Text copyright © 2015 Christine Hart
All Rights Reserved
Thank you to the Authors and Editors of the Erotic Collective.
You make me smile every day.
For G. who read, supported, laughed, did a lot of eye-rolling
and will always be remembered.
And also for Lexi, a very special lady.
He wanted to see her running along the water’s edge, so he sat on the sand, waiting and watching while the waves rolled along the shore, remembering the first time he ever saw her.
The first time was about ten minutes after he entered the club and, even then, he sensed she was different. Why? What made her so intriguing? She was lovely, although he recalled wishing he could see her eyes. She was partially enveloped in shadow and it made her mysterious. Was it her long dark hair, looking so much like silk in the dim lighting? Her dress? No, it wasn’t that either, although the garment clung just enough, was ultra-short and the deepest blue; about as dark as possible without stepping over into black. He liked that she knew how to sit, that she wore it with confidence, neither tugging to cover up nor opening herself for display. A lady.
He sat across the room studying her as she observed the club members in the lounge. She was watching but she barely made eye contact with anyone and almost no one approached, perhaps because the Club Azar wrist band she wore was the color that denoted ‘off-limits’. The few that attempted conversation or offered her a drink were quickly and politely rebuffed. They all walked away with a smile. A classy lady.
She didn’t appear to be with anyone nor did she seem to be waiting for a late arrival. She was simply sitting, watching, sipping from a glass of white wine. Interestingly, the glass made numerous trips between the table top and her lips but the amount of wine in the glass hardly decreased.
He wondered how she had gained admittance. Club Azar was exclusive, invitation only; not just anyone could walk in off the street so she must have been acquainted with one of the members but he knew most of the active participants and he’d never seen her before. Did she belong to one of them? He sensed that she glanced in his direction several times. He still couldn’t see her eyes and she made no attempt to flirt or catch his gaze. He attempted to catch hers but she remained partially hidden in her shadowy corner. Who was she?
After nearly an hour, he approached and, without asking, sat beside her at the table. She didn’t ask him to leave and she didn’t seem surprised at his boldness; instead it was almost as if she’d been expecting him.
“Are you alone?” he asked.
She shifted enough so he could finally see her smoky green eyes. The color was as unexpected as she was. He was anticipating her look to be speculative or curious. It was neither. Her eyes sparkled with amusement and something else, something he couldn’t read. “Not if you’re planning to stay,” was her response.
He was definitely planning to stay and not only because he was consumed with curiosity, or because the dulcet tone of her voice made his groin tighten. “You’re not a member.” His statement was very matter-of-fact. “Were you invited? Are you meeting someone?”
“I’m not a member.” Her statement was as straight-forward as his. “And may I know who’s asking before I answer any more questions?”
“Davis.” He held out a hand and liked her confident handshake in response. “I’m a member and I don’t know you.”
“Davis?” Pensive was the best word to describe the way her eyes swept over him. “I like it. The name fits you.”
“Does it?” His curiosity was piqued even more. “How so?”
“You’re a leader, not a follower.” She spoke with pure confidence, as though she had known him for years instead of only a few minutes. “You prefer to focus on important matters and delegate the details. You tend to think in unique and creative ways. You’re sometimes aggressive. You’ve been known to resent authority; you want to be the one in control. At the same time, you respect authority but those in charge are hard pressed to earn your respect. You’re stubborn, impatient but fair. I wouldn’t call you heroic but you are courageous.”
He did his best not to allow his astonishment to show. “All true but you left out inquisitive. You still haven’t told me who you are.”
“Imanya.”
Imanya. An unusual name but somehow appropriate. “Hello, Imanya. Now that I know you and you know me, will you answer my other questions?”
That unreadable look again, the one mixed with sparkle and amusement. “I suppose you could say I’m a friend of a friend,” she told him, “and he requested an invitation on my behalf which was graciously granted. This is my first visit and I’m not sure if I’ll be meeting someone, although that is my goal. I’m looking for a Dominant.”
Her answer wasn’t what he was expecting. She didn’t give off anything even close to a submissive vibe. “A specific Dominant,” Davis questioned, “or are you open to suggestion? And why are you wearing that ‘look-but-don’t-touch’ wristband if it’s your intention to meet someone?”
“I don’t know anyone in this room so I’m very much open to suggestion although,” Imanya again spoke with confidence, “I prefer to trust my own instincts before making a selection. As for the wristband, it seemed like a good idea to see my options before deciding if I want to meet someone tonight. My conditions aren’t particularly unusual but could be a problem to the wrong person.”
“Your conditions? And what are your conditions?” Davis was more than a little curious.
He was getting accustomed to that unreadable look flashing in her eyes. “I’d prefer to discuss them with the right person.”
“Fair enough,” Davis acknowledged as he nodded in the direction of a man standing across the room. “How about him?”
Imanya studied the rather nondescript man Davis had pointed out. “He’s too controlling. He’d have a hard time with the conditions.”
“What about him?”
She looked over at a man whose hair and complexion were a similar shade of bronze. “Much too kinky. Not at all what I’m looking for.”
Davis scanned the room again before indicating someone standing near the door. “Would you like to be introduced to him?”
Imanya looked over and watched for nearly a minute before her eyes narrowed. “Absolutely not. He’s cruel. I don’t believe he’d respect my conditions, limits or my opinions. From what I’ve seen of the others here tonight, I’m not sure he should even be a member. He might use the title of Dominant but he hasn’t earned it. He’s a sadist.�
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“Did I misunderstand? I thought you said you’ve never been here before?”
“I haven’t,” she replied truthfully, “and you can ask the Director if you want to confirm that this is my first time. I happen to have sharp instincts and I’m exceptionally good at reading body language. Was I wrong about any of them?”
He leaned back and looked directly at her. “No. In fact, you happen to be right about all of them. The first is very controlling, the second has kinks some of us have never even heard of and the last one’s membership is on the line because of his sadistic tendencies. It would seem you’re wise to trust your instincts. I have another suggestion.” He took another quick glance at the other occupants of the room before asking, “What about me? I’m not involved at the moment and I might be interested. Do I have a chance at getting you to submit to me? Is it likely I can handle your mysterious conditions?”
Once again came the sparkle, this time followed with a hint of excitement. “I was hoping you’d ask. You, Davis, are a very strong contender. You like to control and I need to be controlled. I don’t mind stubborn or impatient because of your tendency toward playing fair. I especially like that you’re courageous. That’s extremely important to me. I also don’t believe you would have introduced me to any of those other men before making me aware of your interest which happened a few minutes after you walked into this place and noticed me sitting here. I’m almost certain you will be particularly understanding about my special circumstances so my answer to you would be a definite yes.”
Twist (A BDSM & Romantic Erotica Boxed Set) Page 11