by Sue Lyndon
Without further ado, he gave her a firm smack that was a far cry from the playful swats he’d given her in bed.
She gasped and tried to push off the counter, but he continued holding her down as he slapped her backside, alternating from left cheek to right cheek as he slowly increased his pace, as well as the force of the punishing blows.
Smack smack smack!
The sting built quickly, and she squirmed, trying with all her strength to escape. But her efforts were futile. General Zamek was too strong, and he seemed determined to teach her a lesson.
“Please no more!” It hurt and she wasn’t too proud to beg. “Please, General, I’m sorry!”
He moved lower and swatted the tops of her thighs, and she gasped at the pain. Her entire bottom and the backs of her thighs were now aflame.
As the smacks continued, she became aware of the heated sensation gathering between her thighs, the immense ache. Her breath hitched and shame washed through her, causing a full body flush.
The general was spanking her, as a punishment, and she was becoming aroused. She whimpered, knowing he would soon detect her excitement, if he hadn’t already.
She tried pressing her legs closer together, but she doubted it would help.
“Naughty little human,” he said, striking the curve where her bottom met her thighs repeatedly, which caused her to howl. “I know how wet you’re becoming. I can smell it with each inhale I take, and I can also see the glimmer of your arousal coating those pink nether lips of yours. You can’t hide it from me.”
She whimpered again, her face burning with embarrassment.
She glanced into the mirror, and the sight of General Zamek standing tall and confident behind her as he methodically spanked her, his expression set in lines of firm resolve, didn’t help with her predicament.
The determined look on his handsome face sent a delicious shudder through her, and the aching in her core increased, until she felt the wetness of her arousal slipping down her thigh.
Finally, the general’s hand stilled, and he caressed her heated bottom, moving from cheek to cheek and mercifully rubbing out the sting. Well, rubbing out some of the sting. She doubted the discomfort would fade anytime soon.
When his fingers delved between her folds, she stiffened at first but soon surrendered to his deft ministrations as he rubbed her moisture over her clit.
“I know this is difficult for you, human,” he said, “but you must learn to obey me, and to trust me. I’m not putting the manacles on you to be cruel. I don’t want to put them on you, Layla, I truly don’t, but it’s the safest way to walk you to the hangar and then through Sumlin on our way to the slave office.”
As he spoke, he continued spreading her wetness over her pulsing nub, causing heated waves to assail her core. She whimpered and jerked her center against his probing hand. Oh God. She was close, so close.
“I’m sorry!” she blurted, shame surging inside her. “I-I’ll try to obey you, I will, but I’ll never stop longing for freedom. I don’t want to be a slave and I don’t want to be a whore.”
“You’re not a whore,” he said in a firm tone, giving her clit a chastising pinch. “You’re my mistress.”
“Potato, potahhhto,” she said, switching to English.
“What does that mean?” He caught her gaze in the mirror.
“It means whore and mistress are basically the same thing.”
“No,” he said, driving her closer to the edge. “You’re wrong.”
She pressed her lips together. Her bottom still throbbed terribly, and she didn’t want to risk further punishment.
“Come for me, human,” he said, swirling faster over her clit. “Come for me while you’re bent over with your red, freshly spanked bottom on display.”
His words pushed her over the edge, and she cried out as a powerful climax descended upon her, stealing her breath and making her toes curl in her sandals.
Chapter 21
Zamek stared down at Layla, aching to sink inside her. His cock swelled in his pants and his balls drew up tight. A growl caught in his throat. He still couldn’t believe she’d not only run from him, but locked him out of the bathroom too.
“May-may I get up now, General? Please?”
“Not yet.” He stood back and inspected her spanked cheeks. He’d turned her flesh a deep shade of pink, and he groaned at the sight of her nether lips, swollen and gleaming with her essence. She might not have enjoyed the pain of the spanking, but her body had responded to his firm discipline.
Desire surged through him and he guided her out of the bathroom and straight for the bed. Her steps were slow and awkward, as her leggings and panties were tangled around her knees, and her dress was still pushed up around her waist.
He released her and gave her an expectant look as he freed his cock from his pants. She flushed but quickly took position, bending herself over the bed and lifting her bottom high. Spreading her thighs apart, as best she could with the leggings tangled about her knees, she arched her back more, presenting herself to be mounted.
Growls rumbled from his chest and his need soared.
Locking his fingers in her hair, he jerked her head back and leaned over her, placing his lips at her ear. “Brace yourself, human. I’m not feeling particularly merciful at the moment.”
He grabbed her bottom cheeks, forcing her center to spread more, until her pussy and ass were stretched wide, revealing all her feminine charms to his gaze.
He slammed into her and rode her fast, claiming her with all the passion surging through him. Mine. You’re mine, human. I won’t let you go.
Whimpers and moans drifted up from her, and she clutched the covers until her knuckles turned white.
She stiffened and then jerked her center against him, a guttural cry escaping her as her insides clamped down on his cock, another release rushing through her.
The feel of her pussy contracting around his shaft made him roar, and his own release followed soon after. He pumped into her with rough movements, filling her with his seed, marking her as his.
He found himself wondering if he would ever get her with child. Kall-human pregnancies were rare, but they happened from time to time. The idea of planting his seed inside her and watching her stomach swell with life filled him with primal satisfaction.
“I’m going to try to get you pregnant,” he said, still submerged in her tightness. “I’m going to fill you with my seed constantly and try to breed you, human.” More growls rumbled from his throat. “I don’t care how long it takes. One day you will have my child.”
She didn’t offer a response, and he finally withdrew from her center. When his seed started to trickle out of her core, he turned her around and forced her onto her back, and he placed a pillow underneath her, keeping her bottom high and stemming the flow of his seed out of her pussy.
Her wide eyes met his, but still she said nothing. Perhaps he’d shocked her with his breeding talk. In truth, he’d shocked himself.
His gaze roved over her. Her dress was now wrinkled, her hair was a mess, and her eyes were red-rimmed from crying. And her bottom… fluxx, he couldn’t deny that he adored the sight of her punished bottom.
He put his cock away and fastened his pants. Then he checked his wrist comm. “You will remain in that position for twenty erons,” he said.
Zamek guided Layla through the crowded corridors of the Tammusha. He was holding her by the back of her neck, marching her through the ship like a prisoner. He’d instructed her to appear as subdued as possible during their walk to the hangar, but he supposed after being spanked to tears, fucked thoroughly, and then restrained in manacles, she didn’t have to try very hard. She looked the part of a scared captive.
Warriors stopped to stare as they navigated the halls. No one dared to speak to him though. Probably due to the murderous look on his face. He kept his expression hard and occasionally gave Layla a push, though he was careful not to truly hurt her.
Relief filled him when t
hey reached the hangar and his airship came into sight. He ushered Layla aboard and buckled her into a seat. Zamek wished he could remove her manacles now and give her a tender kiss, but he couldn’t risk the pilot witnessing such an act.
At least they were close. At least he would get her to the safety of his home by this evening. The Sumlin District council would likely balk at his failure to kill Layla and question his motives. But if he took her directly to his home without registering her as a slave—as was legally required for all humans now arriving on Kall—they would have even more cause to question his decisions.
Walking her through town in manacles would help keep her safe, as there would be many witnesses to verify that he wasn’t treating her as an equal. Though it would pain him to do so, he would occasionally push her and grab her hair during the walk to the slave office.
But once he got her home, he intended to spend the rest of the day holding her and comforting her. He hoped she would truly understand the necessity of what he was about to do.
The pilot turned to speak to him, and Zamek caught Layla looking up.
He tugged on her hair. “Eyes down, slave, unless you want another whipping.”
She whimpered and immediately dropped her eyes to the floor. His heart clenched at the sight of her lower lip wobbling. Fluxx, he hated this. But the pilot couldn’t be trusted.
“Head for the landing pad nearest to the slave office in Sumlin,” Zamek directed the pilot. “Once we complete our business there, you will take us to my home on the mountainside.”
“Yes, General.” The pilot spun around and pressed at the controls.
A moment later, the airship lifted in the air and sped out of the hangar, over the skies of Sumlin District.
Zamek had never imagined returning home with Shessema’s body in tow. His chest tightened with grief, but he was starting to come to terms with her passing. It had been a horrible tragedy and he would miss her forever, but he sensed her acceptance of Layla, and he sensed her approval of his plans to keep the little human and protect her, no matter what he must do.
He treasured the vision he’d had of Shessema in the afterlife, and whenever he remembered the last time he’d prayed over her body, peace settled in his soul.
I’m bringing you home, wife. I’m sorry. Ancient gods, I’m so sorry. But I’m bringing you home where you belong. He closed his eyes briefly, praying Shessema could hear his thoughts.
Now that the auction had ended, the streets in Sumlin were mostly clear, which brought him great relief. The last thing he wanted was an audience to gather outside the slave office as he processed Layla inside. News of Shessema’s death had likely already spread to Sumlin, as well as the events that had transpired in the courtroom. Anyone who saw him marching Layla down the street would know who she was in an instant—the wife of a human murderer and member of the rebel cause on Earth. Most wouldn’t see her as a person. Most would view her as an abomination that needed to be destroyed.
More reason to make her my wife.
Marrying her would afford her the ultimate protection.
He was determined to make it happen one day.
The airship descended with a gentle hum and landed within sight of the slave office.
“We will return soon,” Zamek said to the pilot as the hatch lifted. “Come along, slave.” He jerked Layla out of the vessel and walked her rapidly toward the building, anxious to get her inside. The sooner they completed this distasteful business, the sooner they could reach the safety of his home.
A handful of passersby paused in the street, but thankfully they moved along once Zamek pushed Layla into the slave office. He peered out the window of the building, cursing their curiosity, and breathed a sigh of relief when they all moved along.
Aside from the official at the counter, the slave office was empty. Zamek dragged Layla forward and pushed down on her shoulder once they reached the counter.
“You will kneel, slave,” he said in a biting tone.
She continued obeying, dropping to her knees, keeping her head lowered as she took up a subservient position. Despite the gravity of the situation, pride swelled within him to see her obeying him so readily. She finally understood the risk she faced—and the risk he faced—during this unfortunate but necessary trip into town.
He gave Layla’s name to the official, though he suspected the male already knew Layla’s details. News from Earth traveled to planet Kall fast, as warriors stationed on Earth sent messages home frequently.
The tracker injector looked ominous and Zamek frowned at the sight of the long, wide metallic object. A fresh tracker was placed into it and the official gave Zamek an expectant glance.
“Ready when you are, General,” the young Kall male said, holding up the device.
“May I do it?” Zamek asked, reaching out a hand.
The official appeared surprised, though he soon passed the injector over. To Zamek’s relief, the male busied himself at one of his screens, giving Zamek the privacy he sought with Layla. He might’ve just spanked her bottom for her disobedience in his quarters, but he had no wish to cause her undue pain, and he prayed the injection of the tracker didn’t hurt her too badly.
With the official’s attention elsewhere, Zamek took a moment to kneel at Layla’s side and stroke her hair.
“After this,” he whispered in a gentle tone, “I will take you home, human. Please hold still.”
Her anxious gaze danced to his and she gave him a quick nod. “I-I’m ready, General—er, Master—whatever I’m supposed to call you.”
He leaned closer and kept his voice low. “Once we reach my home, you may call me Zamek. Just Zamek.”
Hope sparked in her eyes and he had the sudden urge to kiss her and hug her tightly to his chest, but he positioned the injector at her upper right arm, wanting to get this over with as fast as possible.
“Close your eyes and count to five in your head,” he said.
The instant she shut her eyes, he pressed the button on the injector, and the device made a loud clicking noise as the tracker was embedded under her flesh. She hissed in a rapid breath, then opened her eyes and gave him a dark look.
“That was a dirty trick,” she whispered, shifting her arm as she winced.
“Ah, but it worked. You’re welcome.”
Chapter 22
Layla kept her gaze down, not wishing to make eye contact with any of the passersby on the street. Even if Zamek hadn’t ordered her to keep her head down, she probably would’ve done it on her own. After witnessing the auction and seeing the raucous crowd enthusiastically bid on slave after slave, she could only imagine the distasteful looks she would receive. Slaves were convicted criminals (though not all of them were actually guilty) and she would be viewed as one.
At least the airship was parked nearby. They only had to walk about four blocks to reach it. Another plus—her arm didn’t really hurt anymore. The pain was quickly fading (unlike her bottom, ugh). Zamek’s trick of asking her to count and then injecting her with the tracker when she wasn’t expecting it had made the process easier. A quick pinch of pain and then done.
Just as they reached the airship, Layla heard a scuffle behind her and had to resist the urge to turn around and look. It sounded like a male and female arguing. In English. Her stomach did a quick flip.
“Stop! Let go of me! I think that’s her!”
Layla stopped in her tracks, only for Zamek to jerk her forward. But she dug her heels into the ground, because that voice…
Glancing up, she shot Zamek a pleading look before she spun around. Her eyes instantly met with familiar blue ones. Betsy. Oh my God. Betsy. Boundless joy filled Layla, even as Zamek growled at her and gave her another sharp jerk.
“It’s her!” Betsy cried, speaking to the huge Kall male who was holding her back. “It’s Layla.” Sorrow filled her eyes when she took notice of Layla’s manacles.
Zamek paused and turned to face Betsy and the Kall male, both of whom were now approaching.
A quick peek around the street showed no one else was nearby. Thank God. Maybe Zamek would permit her a moment to speak with her friend.
Tears blurred in Layla’s eyes as Betsy finally reached her.
“You’re alive!” Betsy said. Then she gave Zamek a cruel look. “Are you General Zamek? Have you hurt her? What have you done to her?”
The Kall male—Commander Edek, Layla presumed—grabbed Betsy’s arm and pulled her back a few steps, whispering something into her ear that only made her look angrier.
“General Zamek. Welcome back to Sumlin District, and congratulations on your victory against the Bexxanians,” Commander Edek said with a slight nod. “Please forgive my wife’s outspokenness. If you are not already aware, Betsy and Layla are good friends.”
“He didn’t kill you,” Betsy blurted, her attention focused on Layla. “That-that is good. But has he hurt you?”
“He…” Layla’s voice trailed off. She didn’t quite know how to respond. Shock reverberated inside her. She’d dreamt of somehow reuniting with Betsy for so long, but now that they were face to face for the first time in over a year, she suddenly drew a blank. But she didn’t want to stand here and admit Zamek had once hurt her and scared her and threatened her life, not when he’d treated her so gently as of late. The spanking aside.
General Zamek peered up and down the street, as if making certain they were alone. He guided Layla closer to Betsy and the commander. “I’m sure Ambassador Merokk already told you what happened in the courtroom,” Zamek said, keeping his voice low. “I’ve decided to spare Layla’s life, but I am not certain it’s ever been done—I can’t recall a time when a warrior didn’t fulfill his retribution rights—so I’m making her my slave, officially, in hopes that the authorities don’t become suspicious of my true intentions and attempt to take Layla away from me, and taking her home. I only wish to keep her safe.”
Though they’d argued about the whole slave thing, Layla was starting to come around to Zamek’s point of view. She didn’t like the manacles or the tracker, but he truly was doing this for her benefit. The prospect of being taken away from him by Kall authorities struck fear into her heart.
