Tribute: Captives of Kazir

by Sophie Kisker

  “No! I can’t hold myself back! It hurts too much!”

  “When you beg me to stop, it means you don’t accept the punishment I’ve decided to give you. It means you believe your desire to end the punishment outweighs my right to give it.”

  “That’s impossible!”

  “You will learn. I promise. Now, you will hold your tongue for the last twenty.” The warmth disappeared from her back.

  “Twenty!? Aieee!” The blow landed on the spot where her butt joined her legs, a spot that was already scalded.

  “One.”

  “No, I can’t—” Again, the hand hit, and she shrieked in pain.

  “One.”

  “No, that’s not fair— Shit!” Her skin was being peeled off, she knew it.

  “One. We can do this all day.”

  She had to shut up, or she’d never survive. When the next blow landed, she screamed but bit her tongue.

  “Two. Good.”

  She turned her face into her arm to screech as the next three blows fell. The one after that was so awful, she threw her head back and screamed, “shitshitshitgodpleasestop!”

  The hand paused. She dropped her head, panting and sobbing.

  “Starting over.” She didn’t even have time to register his words before the assault began again. Once she got through shouting, “Noooo!” which caused him to start over again, she managed to scream into her arm. She’d never felt pain this bad in her life. She struggled, she cried, she yelled ‘please’ more times than she could count because it gave voice to her agony. When the slaps stopped again, she held her breath.

  “Done.”

  She collapsed, crying and despondent. She couldn’t do this. She’d never survive.

  He helped her slide off to his side, onto her knees on the step, with her chest resting on the bed while she sobbed. She felt him leave and come back, sitting down on the step beside her.

  “Hold still.”

  She tensed as he placed his hand on her scalded skin again, but this time the touch was cool.

  “This is a delayed-action cream. It will start to soothe the pain in about a period. If you’re behaving yourself, I’ll use it after discipline or pleasure spankings.”

  Delayed action? Pleasure spanking? How long was a period?

  “I don’t understand…” She trailed off, not understanding so many things she scarcely knew where to begin. “Sir,” she added as an afterthought.

  “You will. Go kneel while I talk to you about rules.”

  With a heavy spirit, she pushed herself to a standing position, the remains of her shift falling forward off her shoulders and getting caught on her bound wrists. He reached out, grabbed the thin fabric, and ripped it off, the scraps of her only clothing falling to the floor.

  “Leave it.”

  She nodded, not surprised by the order, and stepped down to the thick carpet. On the carpet was a square of something flat and hard.

  He pointed to it. “That’s your kneeling spot. Wherever it is placed is where I want you to be, when you aren’t doing something else.”

  He wasn’t even going to let her kneel on the soft carpet. She dropped down with a thump. When she leaned back on her haunches, she held back a wail. The pain of resting her ass and thighs on her lower legs was excruciating. She leaned forward, resting her arms on the carpet and her head on her arms, leaving her butt in the air.

  “That was a discipline spanking, not a punishment. A discipline spanking is designed to put you in a submissive frame of mind. A punishment spanking is, well, punishment for a specific action. You will receive a discipline spanking every morning until you are modeling perfect slave behavior.”

  Her head flew up, and her mouth dropped open in horror.

  “They won’t all be that bad. It depends on you. After a discipline spanking, I’ll put the cream on. You’ll feel the pain for a period or so to reinforce the lesson, then the pain will fade. From time to time, you’ll get a pleasure spanking—my pleasure, not yours.”

  At the mention of being spanked for his pleasure, her mouth closed into a straight line, and she looked at him without blinking, sure her lack of expression communicated exactly what she thought about that.

  “At all times, you will show me you accept the pain I’m inflicting because it’s my right.”

  That declaration was more than she could handle. She dropped her head so he wouldn’t see the anger written on her face as plain as a supernova, and screamed into her arms. He ignored it.

  The rules came thick and fast, none a big surprise, save that this wasn’t a fantasy in a book anymore. The things that seemed so sexy before now made her swing rapidly back and forth between wanting to scream in anger, and cry in despair But she managed to hold her tongue.

  You will call me Sir or Master.

  You will obey me in everything.

  You will only wear clothes when I permit you to.

  You may not masturbate at all.

  “Are you listening?”

  “Yes, sir.” She was empty. There would be nothing left of Mena the person when he was done.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  She looked up. Was he serious? Did he think this was some kind of astrophysics lecture with a Q&A at the end? But her bottom was on fire, and she had a punishment coming later. She was learning her lessons fast.

  “Just one, sir. I know you’ll be fucking me whether I consent or not. Will you be using me for breeding as well?” She chose the crude words on purpose. There was nothing nice about what was happening.

  For the first time, he looked flustered.

  “I-I don’t know.” He stood. “But I’ll let you know when I decide. It’s time to eat.”

  8

  Mik'kal

  Mik'kal sat at the small table, watching his new slave pick listlessly at the bowl of food on the floor. He was doing his best to appear aloof, confident, and in charge, but in truth, he was making it up as he went along. Owning a slave had never been something he’d contemplated, and certainly never a human one. Now that she was here, he was going to have to deal with a side of himself he’d locked away for years.

  The only slaves living on Kazir were those directly taken in conquests, which were becoming more and more infrequent. The first humans, seventy-five solars ago, had been enslaved as a group, but they rebelled as a group within a solar of arriving. When they were inevitably defeated, a number had chosen to end their own lives, and in one case, the lives of their children. In a galaxy where slavery was widely practiced, accepted, and regulated, it had shocked the Kaziri to the core.

  Dirac Ortan was no fool. Mik'kal wondered how many other senators of his own party had accepted the “gift” of a slave. How many had been awoken to their need for sexual domination?

  It seemed, to his surprise, Mik'kal was of that group. After spanking ‘Slave,’ something he’d never done before, he felt a calmness and peace he hadn’t felt in years. It was almost intoxicating. No, not almost—it was intoxicating. He wanted to do it again and again. Somehow, he’d known exactly what to do and how to do it. Even the rules he’d given her were made up on the fly, but they’d just seemed right. They flowed from a part of him he’d never examined before. Even now, he was questioning how much he should let it out.

  He didn’t doubt he’d be able to tame her, especially now that she was away from the influence of other humans. She was already programmed to be submissive and obedient. He just had to make sure his dominance was absolute, and she’d come around.

  He reached down to play with his new possession’s hair. Bent over her bowl, she didn’t see him move, and stiffened as he picked up a few strands. Silky and dark brown, he let it slip through his hand. He threaded his fingers through a handful, giving a gentle tug. He swore he heard a quickly cut-off groan, so he did it again in another spot but got no reaction. He let his fingers roam across her scalp, enjoying the feel of gliding through the thick tresses, pressing and gently massaging her. This time, he knew he heard a soft
shuddering inhalation, and a whimper.

  “Does this feel good?”

  After a moment, she shrugged. “I-I don’t know, sir.”

  He dropped the hair back down, a little of his contentment gone. She was lying, but it wasn’t an outright denial, so it would be hard to accuse her.

  “What about the pain of your ass?”

  “It’s better, sir.”

  He waited for a ‘thank you,’ but it didn’t come. After a moment, he stood, grabbing the rope around her wrists, and pulling her up. She stumbled as he propelled her to the end of the bed again.

  “What are you—”

  “Shut up.”

  She didn’t argue this time.

  Mik'kal had been busy while she was locked in the closet, and now the pillars at the ends of the bed sported morphicwires attached to the top and bottom, all ending in binders. There was another length of the thick wire hanging from the center of the arch. Mik'kal planned to get a lot of use out of them.

  He faced her away from him, toward the bed, lifting her arms over her head and hooking her ropes to the center wire. For now, it was slack, and she was flat on her feet.

  He knelt and tugged her left foot to the side. She squeaked in surprise as he upset her balance. It took only a moment before the binder was wrapped around her ankle, holding it out to the side. He knelt by her right foot.

  “Pull yourself up,” he ordered.

  “No, please—”

  “Do not argue with me,” he said, darkly. She pulled up just enough that he could tug her ankle out to the side. He wrapped the binder around it, caressing the small extremity. He could scarcely believe how delicate she was. But her spirit was strong. He was glad. It wouldn’t be any fun to break something already fragile.

  He rose and stepped back. Barely holding in a grin, he flicked the wire over her head. She was facing away from him and hadn’t seen the movement, so she screeched in surprise as it instantly tightened, and she was pulled onto her tiptoes. He bent over the wire between the pillar and her right foot, looking up to watch her struggle to turn her head far enough to see what he was doing.

  “No! Please don’t!” she begged.

  He could listen to her beg all day long. He flicked the wire, and she screeched as her ankle was pulled further to the side, upsetting her balance again, but not for long. He bent over the one on her left ankle.

  “Please…”

  He flicked, and suddenly her legs were far enough apart that most of her weight was hanging from her hands. It was a stressful position, and he was going to enjoy seeing her in it very much.

  He retrieved an object from the table.

  “I haven’t had the opportunity to examine my slave yet.” He was so close behind her, he could feel her trembling. He whispered softly into her ear. “Remember how there’s a difference between how far you can be stretched before you feel pain, and how far you can be stretched before you are damaged? It excites me that I’m between those two measurements, that I can cause you pain without damaging you.”

  He knew she’d protest, and as she opened her mouth to start, he reached around and shoved the gag into her mouth. She yelled, shaking her head wildly as he buckled it behind. He grabbed her hair to stop her movement and pulled her head back so far, she was bending backward. He held her there until her struggles stopped. He was tall enough he could see into her eyes as her head faced the ceiling. They were green, wide with fear, and wet with unshed tears.

  Perfect.

  He circled her waist with his hands, feeling the tiny involuntary shivers of fear. She had nice wide hips. He wondered if the width of human hips had anything to do with successful breeding, like in Kaziri women. Maybe he’d have to explore renting her out to someone who wanted a child—something to think about later.

  He slid his hands up, and she squealed and shook as he passed her ribs, but the real outrage was saved for when he arrived at her breasts. He pinned her between his arms as he cupped the large globes in his hands. They were a nice handful, and her nipples were puffy and pink. As his thumb glided lightly across the surface, she yelled and struggled hard as though she could shake him off.

  He chuckled in her ear, and her yells changed to angry protests.

  “You don’t like that I’m enjoying your distress, do you?” He took each nipple between his thumb and first finger, giving it a firm squeeze. She yelled and struggled again, and it was so delightful, he pinched harder and held on. She threw her head back and it bounced off his chest. She didn’t even seem to notice the contact.

  “Remember what I said about accepting the pain I choose to give? Stop fighting me.” Giving them a slight twist, he was pleased to see that though she cried out behind the gag, she managed to still her movements. He held for another moment, then let go.

  “I look forward to finding your pain limit with your nipples. And then exceeding it.”

  She let out a muffled curse, and he smiled.

  His hands left her breasts to slide back down her soft skin and over her hip bones, pausing just below them. She went absolutely still.

  “Ah, you know where I’m going next, don’t you?” Both hands slipped forward, meeting on top of her soft, smooth mound, where they continued down, his fingers stroking the skin between her legs that hid her most sensitive spot.

  She was making little mewling noises as he gently pried the edges apart. Or maybe she was saying “no” over and over.

  He didn’t really care.

  He slipped a finger in between the folds, finding a lake of wetness inside.

  “You like this!” It wasn’t a question.

  She shook her head wildly.

  “Lying to me twice? You’re earning quite the punishment.” He didn’t give her a chance to reply before he slid a finger over her clit, and she stiffened.

  “Humans are one of only a few species where the female has a pleasure spot that seems to serve no purpose. Did you know that on many planets, the male simply mounts the female when he needs release, and he doesn’t care if she likes it?”

  He took her clit between his fingers and pinched. She screeched behind the gag.

  “Neither do I.”

  His left arm wrapped around her body and pulled her tight against his chest. His right hand ventured further inside the warm wetness, seeking and finding the canal he had no plans to use. But he enjoyed the way she struggled against him as his thick fingers violated her.

  “Hold still,” he ordered. She ceased her voluntary movements, though her trembling continued.

  He pulled his fingers out, wiping the copious wetness across her stomach, then stepped around and sat on the end of the bed facing her, his legs spread, so that she stood between them. He wanted to see her eyes when he told her this next part.

  “I understand humans use the breeding passage for pleasure as well?”

  She hesitated, her eyes on the floor, then nodded.

  “Kaziri have such a high impregnation rate, we only use that passage for breeding. Where do you think I’ll be using you for pleasure?”

  She raised her head up, eyes wide, then glanced down to the bulge between his legs, straining so hard he was afraid the unrippable fabric might rip. She shook her head furiously.

  “The other, narrower place, yes. You are correct. But not yet. It has to be prepared because I don’t want to injure you. Even if I want to hurt you.”

  Her eyes widened, and she drew in a shaky breath, her eyes locked onto his. She was an odd mixture of submissiveness and defiance, lurching back and forth between the two as though she were at war with herself.

  “I believe you have a punishment due. Let’s see… lying twice,”—she looked confused—“getting your hands to your front, yelling at me, and oh, yes, kicking me.”

  She threw out another muffled but unmistakably angry curse, venting her outrage, tears gathering in her eyes and slipping down her cheeks. He watched, mesmerized, as they dripped off her chin onto her chest, then ran in tiny rivulets down onto her breasts.
One actually reached the tip of her nipple and hung, suspended.

  He reached an arm around behind her waist to hold her steady and bent forward, licking off the drop. It was surprisingly sweet, tasting of hate, fear, and arousal, and other emotions he couldn’t identify. It was a heady combination, better than the best Kazirian spirits. He leaned in again, taking her nipple into his mouth, relishing the feel of soft female flesh on his tongue. He licked off more tears, the taste so sweet he vowed to cause them often. He heard a groan from above that was definitely not anger and not pain.

  Enough.

  He stood and moved around her again, walking over to the wall where a new item had taken up residence, right below his sword. Her head swung around to follow him. When he plucked it off and swung it experimentally into his hand with a satisfying snap, she paled.

  He took up position behind and to the side. He wasn’t going to tell her how many she was getting. The fear was part of the punishment. He relaxed his arm away from his body, flexed his wrist, and snapped the thin rod forward.

  Before she could even react, he pulled it back and snapped forward again. She screamed just as it hit the second time. Back and forward, his wrist went a third time before she could breathe. Her scream rose higher and higher as he continued the assault. The whole punishment took maybe twenty beats, and when it was done, she had ten crimson lines across her ass and the back of her thighs.

  She was hanging, limp and sobbing, but there was one more thing to be done. He unbuckled the gag and let it fall to the carpet.

  “Before we’re done, tell me why you were punished.”

  It took her a minute to raise her head.

  “I-I kicked you. I moved my hands. I yelled at you. I’m sorry!”

  “And?”

  She looked confused.

  “You lied to me. Twice.”

  “What? No, I didn’t!”

  “Do you need a little more to refresh your memory?” He scraped a nail across a welt.

  “Owowow! I’m sorry! I lied!”

  He nodded. “What about your name?”