Theirs to Share

by Jaye Peaches

  Other than the guards that circled the room, the stone-clad chamber was empty. Nobody advocated on behalf of the accused; why would they? Arguing with a judge was dangerous. But, Kriss was willing to risk it; he had to save Shayla. The heart beating hard in his chest was telling him to help her. His resolve to stay silent crumbled.

  But, Jago was there first. He hurried to stand before the chair and bowed. “Might I remind your excellency that Shayla is an ignorant human of base purpose. She is merely here to feed the Hunger and does so willingly and well.” Jago bowed again.

  “The law is clear,” the judge thundered. “She must be sentenced according to the scrolls of Hezara. She was caught misusing an oracle. This is tantamount to spying.”

  “Excellency, she is not a spy, merely curious. She wants to understand us. It is a human occupation to gain knowledge.”

  The judge snarled. “It is no excuse for her to do it in secret.”

  Jago was silent. Kriss had to agree. There was little they could do to mitigate her guilt, which left them hoping the punishment would not be too severe.

  “Human girl. Shayla. Prostrate your puny form at my feet and beg for mercy.” The magistrate slammed his staff on the paving stone by his chair. The boom echoed around the room.

  Jago held Shayla’s trembling arm. When she lay down, the simple prison shift would barely cover her ass.

  “It’s a formality,” Kriss said quietly. “All convicted must beg for mercy. It won’t be given. Because that would be a weakness, especially because you are an alien. Then, you must kneel and accept your fate with a brave face. This is how Hezara behave in adversity. So it will impress.”

  She lay, spread-eagled. The cold floor offered no comfort.

  “Please,” she said, her voice shaking. “I ask for mercy.”

  The staff fell again and the clang reverberated around the chamber. “None is given.”

  She rose to her knees and clasped her hands before her. “Please,” she mouthed. “Please, help me.” She spoke the soundless words to nobody.

  The judge’s lips formed an ugly smile and he spoke with glee. “The punishment is set. The creature will be stripped bare, stood in the public arena, bound over the pedestal such that her position is of maximum humility. There, in this obscene pose, she shall be flogged, a hundred lashes. Then, if she is able to walk, she will be paraded around the arena, her stripes visible. From there she will be returned to the custody of her nestors.” He turned to face Kriss and Jago. “Oh, they shall be the ones to flog you. That is penitence for their failure to contain your wickedness.”

  Shayla swayed, the color draining from her face. Jago grabbed her. “Sir, I must protest, this is too harsh. It is a punishment of a warrior. And you are quite aware that many elect certain death as an alternative.”

  “Certain death,” Shayla repeated, and she covered her face.

  “Warriors are always given the option of exile rather than public chastisement,” Kriss whispered into her ear.

  Jago squeezed her shoulder. “To be sent to face the Violence, to fight the Beast, is always certain death. This human has no alternative but be humiliated. No warrior I know would subject themselves to this shame. Death is preferable.”

  “I don’t want to die,” she wailed.

  The judge was unmoved. “It is the law.”

  Kriss sank onto one knee and pressed his palm to his chest. “Excellency. This human is a Gift from Earth. She is essential for our Hunger. While she is with us, we are virulent, so much so, we could father thousands of nestors. She is too valuable to treat so. This punishment will cause damage. Harm. She will not be able to quench our Hunger again. She is fragile, weak, can you not see that she is not like us. She is not to be damaged—is it not a condition of our treaty with Earth? Imagine the furor if she returned mentally unbalanced, possibly physically scarred.”

  The judge leaned forward. “What would you have me do? Let her go?”

  “No. I would suggest that we lessen the punishment such that it would be tolerable for a human form, but still shameful.”

  “Then. You suggest her punishment.”

  Jago stepped forward. “Have us paddle her bottom with our hands. It will ensure we can judge the effectiveness of the punishment and we shall be responsible for any unwarranted excess. We will alone face the consequences.”

  Kriss shot a glance at Jago. He understood. The punishment had to look as severe as possible to satisfy the judge, but at the same time, had to leave Shayla unharmed and intact. It would mean testing Kriss’s disciplinary skills. Yes, she did deserve punishment—he wasn’t against the verdict, but now he also had to protect her.

  He pictured her red ass, mottled with the marks of his hand. A hot, burning ass. The last time they punished her, she had become aroused and easily orgasmed. He had to protect her from the humiliation, the public spectacle of hundreds of Hezara men, many probably close to reaching the Hunger, their cocks hard and waiting for satisfaction.

  Jago bowed again. “Excellency. Her nudity is paramount to the punishment?”

  “Of course.” The judge gloated—he too would be there to watch, and although old, he was still a man with urges.

  “And her binding, too?”

  “Yes. That is my final verdict.”

  There was no give, no yielding to pity.

  Shayla was too stunned to move. The guards came forward and picked up the frozen bundle she resembled and removed her from the chamber. She gave Jago and Kriss one last pitiful glance over her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry!” she shouted. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

  The judge adjourned the court with one last hammer of his staff.

  Kriss caught up with Jago just before they reached the door. “What can we do? We have to punish her. She knows this.”

  Jago’s eyes sparkled. “We shall need to apply ull to her skin to keep it supple.”

  “I suppose.” What was Jago plotting?

  “As long as it looks like ull, of course.” Jago grinned.

  Chapter Twelve

  The arena was a stone amphitheater, just as the Romans and Greeks had constructed on ancient Earth. But, to her surprise, it wasn’t a grand stadium; quite the contrary, it was a tight circle of tiered rows for seating with a flagstone center. The ominous dais with the pedestal stood erect in the middle, the chains hanging ready to bind her. Stumbling into the arena, escorted by droids, she gasped at the crowd of Hezara men. Giants circled her, blocking out the low evening sunlight. They stood shoulder to shoulder, a hundred or so in number, and eagerly awaiting her arrival with slow claps of their hands.

  Her knees nearly buckled beneath her. Perhaps a larger arena would have been beneficial. Their faces would have been distant, shapeless portraits and ill-defined. Instead, she saw their dark eyes bearing down on her. The proximity was more terrifying than she anticipated. A droid caught her elbow and held her steady.

  Where were her nestors? The last few hours had been a nightmare. Flung in a prison cell, nobody to talk to or advise her, she had no clue what to expect. It wasn’t until she stood before the judge, that the enormity of her offense hit her. The presence of Jago and Kriss helped, as had their attempt at seeking mercy on her behalf. But, it seemed to have failed. This grotesque ridiculing was not mercy.

  She needed Jago and Kriss, more now than ever. And even though they were to punish her, she was sure of one thing—she trusted them, and that silver lining was what held her together. Over the last few days, those little moments of amorous affection had grown stronger. They were changing, becoming more protective of her and not because she was a precious thing that slaked their thirst for sex, but because they were beginning to treat her as something more important—a lover.

  What she regretted was not being able to tell them why she had sought out the oracle. If they understood her predicament—the demands of those who used her for their darker plans—then maybe she could make them allies, too. The trust she felt toward them was gro
wing alongside the yearning for their affections, their love. What had they done to her?

  She reached the pedestal, knowing in a moment that the droids would whip away her meager gown and leave her to face her fate naked. A steel arm reached out and she shriveled.

  “Wait,” Kriss shouted. “You shall not touch her.”

  The droids took a few steps back.

  Jago joined his nestor, the pair of them emerged from out of the shadows. They carried nothing in their hands, no weapons or implements. Their faces were granite.

  Shayla swallowed hard, but the lump refused to budge from her throat. They’d already forgotten what she meant to them, or so it seemed.

  Jago halted right in front of her, and bent, so that his nose was level with her forehead. He glanced over his shoulder at the crowd, and there it was, what she needed from him—a look of disdain, almost resentment.

  “Ignore them,” he whispered. “They’ll shout and jeer. It is the way. The humiliation is key. Focus on us.”

  She nodded, too stunned to speak. She was more worried about pain.

  Kriss handed Jago something small. Jago opened his hand. There was a small bottle in the palm of his hand. “Ull.”

  She grimaced. “What good is that?”

  “It is tainted with something. Something that will reduce both the pain and the impact of the spanking. However, it isn’t perfect. You’ll feel something like pain, and the heat, too. But not for too long.”

  There would be a risk in using the ointment; the judge was present somewhere in the crowd, watching the proceedings. The extent of Jago’s concern for her well-being went beyond simply using his hand to spank her. He meant to protect her.

  She leaned toward his ear. “Why are you doing this? Are you not angry with me? Don’t you want me properly punished?”

  “You are being punished. Don’t doubt it. Kriss and I are very cross with you, because of the trouble you’ve caused.”

  She blushed and lowered her head. “I’m sorry. I have to explain—”

  “Not now,” he said. “Now is not the time, as you can see. The droids will watch, so we must do this as harshly as is necessary, but carefully. I shall not harm you, neither will Kriss. Do you trust us?”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  “Then remove that flimsy covering, take a deep breath, and listen to our commands. My hand is itching to make itself felt on your ass. But, I can assure you, it will do its job without leaving you broken. Are you afraid?”

  She had been when she’d entered the arena. Now, Jago’s calm confidence lifted her spirits. She raised her chin up and straightened her back. “No.”

  Afraid, no. Crippled by nerves, a definite yes. Hundreds of eyes bore down on her, and as she lifted the shift over her head and exposed her pale skin, they ogled her. There was nothing sexy about this, unlike her dream where she soaked up the adoration. This real horde of aliens was barbaric and intent on watching her suffer. How had an advanced species of humanoids managed to cling on to such uncivilized ways?

  With her nakedness on show, there it was—the collective gasp of hungry men, driven by an almost insatiable sex drive. They weren’t there for justice. Just like the judge, they wanted the opportunity to see a real woman naked. She tried to avoid looking at the crowd, but it was impossible; they surrounded her.

  The droid took away her gown. She hugged her breasts and tried to cover her privates with her other hand. A million goosebumps rose across her whole body. She shivered.

  The pedestal wasn’t designed for comfort. Jago snatched the gown from the droid’s clutches and laid it across the stone surface.

  “Bend over it, Shayla,” he said.

  She couldn’t move. Her knees had locked.

  Kriss hooked his arm under hers and nearly lifted her off the ground as he shifted her forward. Jago intercepted her. With her arms forced out, she uncovered her breasts. Another leer from the crowd. Another loud gasp.

  “Ignore them,” Jago whispered.

  Impossible. They weren’t going to stop just because she was embarrassed.

  The two men hoisted her up and folded her over the stone bench. The solid structure felt cold, and it was obviously designed for a bigger person than Shayla. Her feet and hands dangled on either side. In any other situation, her pose would be comical.

  Nobody was laughing. She closed her eyes and tried hard to let her body flop—tension would make things worse.

  Kriss shackled her wrists and ankles, and in doing so, her legs were parted. More exclamations.

  She hung her head. Get on with it!

  The ull came next. Jago dribbled it over her raised rump, allowing it to slide into her furrow and further. The coldness lasted only a few seconds. The moment he started to rub it into her skin, the thick unction warmed her flesh by triggering tiny tingles. So much for numbing her. She was quite aware of his palm circling her ass cheeks. She wished she was over his lap in the privacy of his house. If she’d had that luxury, then the application of the ull might have created a different feeling in her loins and belly. As it was, she was still too tense; her buttocks had gone rock hard.

  Jago ceased massaging her bottom.

  The mechanical voice of the droid reminded the crowd of her subterfuge, her crime. One hundred smacks. Fifty from each man. One ass cheek each.

  “Where’s the flogger?” a voice shouted from the crowd.

  A few others picked up the cry.

  “Let’s do this,” Kriss said. “The quicker, the better, I say.”

  She had no say and until they started, she’d no idea if the ull had done anything to alleviate her.

  Jago, standing to her right, tapped an ass cheek. The fingers prodded, heavy and noticeable. The ull hadn’t worked. She let out a small cry of alarm.

  “Yes, remember to cry,” Jago said quietly. “Give them a show.”

  Kriss snorted. “I don’t think that’s going to be an issue. They can’t stop staring as it is.”

  Jago’s hand met her ass once again. This time, he used a measure of force and the flat of his palm. The noise reverberated around the arena. Shayla jolted, shocked by the sound of the smack and the jarring sensation. However, the sting wasn’t there, not like previously, and although she knew it had struck, there was little else to feel.

  Before she could decide whether it really hurt or not, Kriss slapped her other cheek. The sound was greeted by a roar of delight. This time, she felt warmth, a rising heat that centered on the raised part of her bottom. The ull had done something; she just wasn’t sure what exactly.

  Jago swiftly followed, then Kriss rattled off his. They worked a steady duet of smacks, sweeping them across her ass. The heat consumed her, driving itself deep into her skin and muscle. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation, nothing like a soothing massage, but it wasn’t a scorching pain either. Somewhere in the middle.

  She rattled her chains and squirmed her bottom from side to side, but there was little room for movement. Jago rubbed her ass, circling his hand and dipping his fingers between her cheeks. The crowd hollered, cheering him on.

  The shame of it. The pain in the end wasn’t the problem. The humiliation took her to the edge of an emotional cliff and left her there. She cried and, when the smacks seemed especially noisy, she sobbed occasionally. The tears dripped off her nose and chin. Kriss, hearing the rabble’s jeers, smacked her upper thigh, somewhere the ull hadn’t reached. She screamed out in genuine pain.

  “Ow, ow!” She grabbed the links of the chain.

  “Kriss,” Jago hissed.

  Kriss smacked higher, by her crease. “She’s being punished, remember.”

  “Not there. And avoid her sex, too. You’re getting too close.”

  “The judge is right there. I don’t think he’s impressed.”

  Shayla lifted her head and opened her teary eyes. Sure enough, the old man with the staff was sitting in a prime spot. He wasn’t interested in looking at her bottom; he was watching her face.

  Jago stung her b
ehind with a firm smack. She screeched. The judge smiled.

  Okay, dammit, she’d scream more, if it kept him happy.

  They were halfway through. The droid was counting in a monotonous tone.

  “Fifty-one.”

  Fortunately, the effects of the ull hadn’t worn off. The mellow smacks, although hardly painless, weren’t horrendous compared to what she knew was possible. So, she changed her tack. More tears, snot, whatever was necessary, but she wasn’t going to cower in her heart. Oh, no. There in the core of her body, she was strong. She closed her eyes again, blocking out the crowd, the racket, and focused on the two hands that kissed her ass, back and forth. She’d pretend it was just the three of them.

  “Seventy-five.”

  The rise and fall of palm against flesh continued, undaunted and rhythmic. She breathed in time to it and answered each resounding slap with a suitable squeal of her own.

  “Please, no more,” she threw into the mix. “I’m a good girl.”

  “Fuck, yes,” Kriss growled. “You are when you do as you’re told.”

  A tiny tremor of excitement erupted in her breasts. They jiggled, the nipples hardening. Kriss’s stern voice was the only thing that was able to break through to her and make her respond in a positive way. If only the circumstances were different, she’d rather like it.

  Jago circled his palm again before spanking her. “This is what they want to see. Keep it up, Kriss.”

  “A wicked creature deserves every spank,” Kriss said louder.

  “Yes!” the crowd clamored in unison.

  “This naughty female will be thoroughly fucked when we’re done.”

  “Fuck her!”

  Shayla’s eyes sprang open. “No!”

  “Kriss,” Jago groaned. “I meant the spanking.”

  “Ninety!” The droid continued counting, undisturbed by the rowdy proceedings.

  “They’re agog for her,” Jago said, with a softly spoken level of alarm.

  She twisted from side to side, trying to catch sight of her nestors over her shoulders. “Please, don’t let them near me—”