Tribute: Captives of Kazir

by Sophie Kisker

And thick.

  And pointed.

  That was going to go inside her? Her eyes fixated on it as he walked across the carpet toward her.

  Was it erect?

  Dear God, was it not erect?

  She was a little short of breath as she dropped her eyes, embarrassed to be staring. To her horror, a long string of moisture dangled between her legs, ready to drop to the carpet. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the indignity.

  The air moved as he squatted down in front of her. To her relief, he collapsed the spreader bar and removed it. She kept her eyes squeezed tight, aware his… appendage… bobbed mere centimeters from her face. He drew a finger through her folds, catching the dangling string, and a whimper escaped before she could get it under control. To her utter humiliation, she heard him lick it from his finger.

  “Not bad. Tell me, is it typical for human women to be this wet when they are not aroused? Do not lie to me again,” he warned as he stood and stepped back.

  “A-Arousal is a complicated thing, sir,” she whispered. “It can happen even when we don’t want it to.”

  “Why wouldn’t you want it to? Didn’t you spend ten years reading stories about masters and slaves? Now, you are a slave with a master!”

  How could he possibly not understand the difference? She looked up—way up—to his face.

  “Because when I read about… that… I only read what made me comfortable and happy. If something made me uncomfortable or unhappy, I stopped reading the story. That’s the difference between fantasy and reality. And…” She stopped, knowing she shouldn’t follow where the last thought had started to go, but he didn’t let her off the hook.

  “And what?”

  She struggled to put it into words.

  “There’s always a… relationship… between them that makes her happy.”

  “A relationship? Pah!” He walked away, then turned to face her. “We have a relationship, too. I am the master; you are the slave. I give the orders; you obey. As long as I stay happy, you stay happy. That’s a very simple relationship, don’t you agree?”

  “Yes, sir.” She fought to stop the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. With the new restraints on her arms, she couldn’t even wipe them away.

  “In these relationships, does the slave like her slavery?”

  She chewed on her lip for a moment before answering.

  “Not at the beginning, but… sometimes at the end, yes.”

  “Well, I doubt very much you will like your slavery. You’re here to serve a purpose, and that’s it. I have my doubts humans can even be tamed.”

  “Then why are you asking me these questions, sir? You don’t seem to want to hear my answers.”

  “Enough! I’m tired of talking about what you want. What I want is for you to kiss my cock, right now.”

  11

  Mik'kal

  Mik'kal watched impatiently as she tried to scramble backward, but her stiff legs and restrained arms meant that all she accomplished was to fall over. She glared up at him.

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  He was losing patience as he hauled her upright.

  “Mena, you don’t seem to understand that you have no choice. Eventually, my cock is going to go all the way down your throat, so touching your lips is nothing.” He moved closer until it was mere centimeters from her mouth.

  Fuck, the damn thing was getting harder by the second, and her mouth was the perfect height. If she didn’t obey him now, so he could back away, he was going to force her mouth open and treat himself to the warm wetness of her throat.

  Her head was turned to the side. After a few agonizingly long seconds, she turned and gave his flesh the briefest of kisses, then turned away again. But it was enough. He breathed out hard at the soft touch and moved back.

  “I think I’ll have you service my cock at the start of every day,” he decided out loud. “Then we will shower, I will spank you, and we will eat.”

  She startled at the word ‘spank,’ and he figured she’d probably forgotten about it. He hadn’t. In fact, it might become his favorite time of the day.

  “Come.” He headed back down the hall toward the room beyond the bathroom.

  She got to her feet and followed slowly, stopping to stare wide-eyed at the large space, filled with lush green plants and dominated by the bath with the tree sculpture hanging over it. He’d already filled it, so he stepped into the warm water and motioned for her to follow. She dipped a tentative toe in, then stepped down, standing next to him, the water up to her thighs, a look of wonder on her face.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “I, um, haven’t seen this much water since I left Earth.”

  “Is it warm enough?”

  She looked up at him and cocked her head. “Do you really care? Master?”

  “I do not know what temperatures humans operate best in. Too hot and your skin would be scalded. Too cold and you may get hypothermia. So, I am simply asking for information.” He would let the implied disrespect slide for the moment.

  “It’s a little cooler than is comfortable, sir.”

  “Bath, increase temperature by five degrees.”

  The temperature of the pool increased immediately, and her eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “That feels good, sir,” she said softly.

  “Good.” He sat down on the step that ran around the pool and motioned her to come closer. She stopped a meter away.

  “Closer.” She shuffled forward a few centimeters. In exasperation, he put his hands on her hips and spun her around so she faced away from him, and pulled her into his lap. She screeched.

  “Hush.” She went silent, but once again he could feel her small tremors of fear. He moved her legs wide, so they were draped on the outside of his, then wrapped his arm around her bound arms and waist, pulling her close against his chest. Her skin radiated a pleasing warmth. He played with her hair for a moment before moving a hand to one breast, cupping and massaging it, but he could still feel the tension in her body. Oh, well. She’d either learn to like it, or she’d learn to tolerate it. He liked it.

  The water was blissfully warm, and he spent a very pleasurable ten micros stroking her skin and playing with her nipples, the silence broken only by soft stifled gasps. He could feel her tension decreasing.

  Eventually, his hand made its way down. He cupped her mound, feeling her go rigid again. When he slipped a finger into her warm, slick haven, she squeaked.

  “Please… don’t…”

  Ignoring her, he went deeper, deeper than he’d done last night. He had the long slender fingers of his people, and it didn’t take much effort to bump against her cervix.

  “Ow!” she cried, struggling against him, her hands pulling on the wires in futility.

  “Hold still,” he ordered, gripping her tighter, his finger still near the very sensitive spot. He touched it gently again, and this time, she merely whimpered.

  “I know that hurts, but I want you to bear it in silence.” He rubbed the sensitive spot gently, and she jerked but kept silent. Even more interesting, though, was the sudden flood of warmth around his finger. He smiled behind her as he pulled his hand out and held it in front of them. His finger was wet with a thick shine.

  “What’s on my finger?” he asked softly. When she didn’t answer, he took her nipple in between two fingers and applied just a bit of pressure, but the threat was clear.

  “My… juices!” she cried.

  “Yes, your juices. Which weren’t there until I told you to bear this in silence.” He wiped his finger off on her stomach. “Bath, cleansing water.” The water changed to a slightly thicker and more slippery consistency. He scooped it up, dribbling it down her arms and stomach, methodically rubbing every inch of her front side up to her neck, pleased to feel her relax in his arms again.

  “Now, stand up.” She obeyed quickly, still facing away from him. He stood, his cock an iron rod trapped between his thighs and her back, and turned
them both around so she faced the edge.

  “Bend over.”

  “No!”

  She yelped as he swatted her ass.

  “So I can wash you, nothing more.” He pressed on her back, forcing her over until one cheek laid on the tiled rim.

  Sluicing water over her back, he rubbed her skin from the neck down. He heard a stifled moan and smiled again at her inability to keep her reactions to herself. When he started to rub her pleasure hole, she tried to push him away. He smacked her ass again.

  “Stop that!”

  Her hands dropped away, and he finished the cleaning.

  “Now, stand and face me.”

  She looked everywhere but in his eyes as she turned to face him. That was fine.

  “Mena, I’m going to wash your hair. You’re going to sink down under the water, all the way, and I’m going to rub your scalp for thirty beats. I will bring you up in exactly thirty beats, not before, even if I have to hold you under the water because you’re struggling. You’re practicing this, so you can take my cock down your throat and hold your breath for a micro, or more, if I want you to. Now, tell me what you heard me say.”

  Frightened eyes looked back up at him. “How long are beats and micros?”

  He hadn’t even thought about the fact she didn’t know how to tell time here.

  “A beat is the average time it takes for the Kaziri heart to beat. One hundred beats is a micro.”

  “So, a beat is like a second, and a micro is a very long minute. Does a Kaziri heart beat faster or slower than a human?”

  She was smart. If his heart beat much slower than hers, thirty beats might be too long. He knelt down in the water.

  “Give me your hand.”

  She held it out to him as far as she could, and he flicked the wire twice to lengthen it. He took her small palm in his large one, moving closer so he could place it on the right side of his chest. This was the first sort-of voluntary touch of her warm hand to his skin, and it was electrifying. He didn’t miss her sudden jump.

  “Can you feel my heart?” She nodded. “Now, see if you think my heartbeat is faster or slower than yours.”

  She closed her eyes, and there was silence in the bath. He watched her breathe quietly. Eventually, she opened her eyes again, looking into his.

  “It’s about the same,” she whispered.

  “Good. Can a human hold its breath for thirty beats?”

  She dropped her eyes down and nodded again. “Yes.”

  “So, tell me what I’m going to do?”

  “You’re going to hold me under the water for thirty beats, so I can learn to suck your cock.”

  He waited but didn’t hear the word he wanted to hear.

  “Since you can’t remember what to call me, I’m adding five beats to the time.”

  She bit her lip. “Yes, Master. Sorry.”

  She bent her knees and sank down, took a breath, and as she started to go under, he put his hand on the back of her neck and pushed firmly, ensuring she understood that even when she cooperated, he had all the control, and she had none.

  He knelt at her side, pressing on her head, even as he massaged the scalp and swirled her hair in the cleansing water. He was counting under his breath, and much as he expected, beats seemed much longer to her than it did to him. At twenty beats, she started stirring. At twenty-five, she started trying to get her feet underneath to push up, and at thirty seconds, she grew frenzied as she tried to get loose from his grip. At exactly thirty-five beats, he pulled her shoulders out of the water. She gasped and coughed, and tried to get away, but he held her tight to his chest.

  “What the hell? That was much longer than thirty-five!”

  “No, Mena, it wasn’t. It was exactly thirty-five beats, I promise.” He stroked her hair as she calmed down. Part of him was angry and told him to punish her for her outburst, but part of him wanted to reassure her she could trust him. That last part surprised him. He sought out his nirza, and it was purring contentedly. That didn’t happen often.

  “We’re almost done. I’m going to do your morning spanking right here today.” He unfastened the two wires from the belt on her waist and pulled her arms to the front.

  “Here?” She was pulling back, not hard, but she was defying him.

  “Here. And if you don’t stop resisting, it will last much longer.” He jerked the wires forward and lifted them, fastening them to the highest branch on the pipe tree. And there she was, just like his fantasy.

  The redness from the spanking yesterday was gone, but the stripes from the cane were clearly visible. He shook his head in wonder at the sight and resolved that once they faded, they would be replaced, even if she did nothing wrong. He wanted to see them, always.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  12

  Mena

  Mena had started the day off-kilter, a bundle of confused nerves and feelings she couldn’t sort out. She slept fitfully after she stopped crying, dreams invading her sleep that involved images of him. Doing things to her. When she had to thank him for letting her pee, she’d been really angry. Kneeling, and being ordered to open wider—well, the string of moisture hanging down had made her feelings obvious. But then she’d gotten scared by his cock, and it was pure reflex that made her try to get away. When it was in front of her face, though, she couldn’t deny it was gorgeous, amazing, and tantalizing. Kissing it hadn’t really been a hardship.

  After the tension of yesterday, the bath had been heavenly, and being in his arms hadn’t been horrible. He was gentler than before, so she’d let her tension go just a little. For a moment, she could pretend she was in the arms of a caring master. When he bumped her cervix with his finger, a place that had always been extremely uncomfortable, he’d backed off, even as he told her to bear the pain. That made her absolutely melt inside. As shameful as it was to admit it made her wet, it was damn hot.

  In fact, all of this morning had been hot. Had this been something she’d consented to, she would have considered herself lucky. Even being held underwater, once she’d come up and known for sure he wasn’t going to drown her, had made her melt. Now, being tied up overhead to this metal tree, even that was sexy.

  Except he was about to hurt her again. Her bottom was still extremely sore from yesterday’s spanking and caning. It had been a frightening, awful experience she was really scared to repeat. The fear of pain that she couldn’t stop, coming at her again and again until she was hysterical, restarted her shaking.

  She heard him return behind her and twisted around. He had something wide and flat in his hand.

  “Please, sir, please don’t hit me again. Please. I’ll be obedient, I swear!” Her voice rose up as he got near, and her panic flared. “It hurts so bad!”

  “I know it does,” he said softly. “Pain teaches you. Pain, among other things, is how I reinforce your status. You have no power—I have all the power. You have no say in the pleasure or pain your body feels—you feel what I desire you to feel. You don’t really know that yet. You don’t feel it deep in your bones. I will teach you to feel it in your very soul. I will teach you to offer your body up to me, no matter the pain, simply because it pleases me to hurt you.”

  “I don’t want to die, but I don’t want to live while wishing I was dead.” The tears spilled out of her eyes and down her cheeks.

  “It will be rough for a while, yes, but I think you will find a way to live with it.” He reached out to stroke her cheek. When his hand with the four fingers and strange brown pattern touched her, she whimpered, the caress almost more than she could bear.

  He pulled his hand back and stared at it, wet with her tears, then looked up at her as though he was uncertain what had just happened. There was a surreal moment when he lifted his hand and licked her tears off a finger, closing his eyes in what looked like bliss.

  Then his eyes opened, his expression changed, and he was all business again. He stepped back behind her.

  “No words, only cries and moans. Underst
and?”

  “Master, please!”

  An unexpected hard smack on her bottom made her shriek and dance.

  “Do you understand?”

  “Yes! Yes, Master, I understand!” She was shaking so hard, the tree was vibrating.

  She felt the movement of air behind her just as the paddle landed on her sore bottom. She shrieked but held back words, dancing on one foot, then the other. The paddle landed again and again, each blow somehow more painful than the last. Before long, she was simply screaming and twisting like a leaf in the wind.

  It stopped, but she sobbed for several minutes more. Her eyes were tightly closed and she felt the water stir as he moved close. She tensed, bracing for more pain. What she felt instead was the blessed coolness of the cream he’d put on yesterday. She tried to remember what he’d said—it would dull the pain in about a period, which was roughly an hour.

  As he released her arms from above, her knees gave way, but he caught her, lifting her and bringing her back to the main room, where he placed her on his bed. She curled on her side away from him, and he left her alone with her tears.

  “It is time to eat.”

  She turned over, groaning as her sore bottom took her weight. He held out a hand, but she ignored it, rolling herself off the bed and onto the steps, where she pushed herself upright.

  “First, I must refasten you. Turn around and offer your wrists to me.” She let out a sob but turned and offered her arms to him, feeling him affix the cables again. “Now, over to your spot.”

  Over on the table sat a plate of food, and on the floor next to it was her kneeling spot. She dropped down ungracefully to the hard surface.

  He went over to an empty space in the wall near the large window and waved his hand, spoke several words she didn’t understand, and a small door opened. Reaching in, he pulled out a bowl, bringing it back to where she knelt. Whatever was in it was brown, lumpy, and warm, but the steam rising off of it smelled good. With a shock, she realized how hungry she was.

  “How do you know this is safe for humans?” she challenged.