by Sinclair,Ava
“I’m to ride alone?” Iris couldn’t help but feel nervous; she’d assumed she’d be riding with one of the brothers, not by herself. In response, Utak lifted her onto the back of the smallest gyrand. The animal was wearing a saddle made of fur and leather. It wasn’t uncomfortable, and the dipped back cradled Iris, making her feel as secure as she could, given the circumstances.
The brothers mounted their own gyrands. The one carrying Iris watched passively until the others began to move. Zios called over his shoulder, telling her there was no need to steer, that the gyrand she’d been given would walk after the others and that this lesson was intended to help her find her seat.
The creature snuffled as it walked. Its gait was a fluid and rolling, and when the others sped up, Iris at first cried out for them to slow down, but then realized that the lope was no harder to sit than a walk. It felt like being on a carousel horse; the great padded feet acted as shock absorbers. The three gyrands lumbered briskly, covering the ground between the camp and a stand of trees far more quickly than Iris would have imagined. And she felt a measure of pride in how easily she kept her balance, and a measure of surprise by how much fun it was.
They were heading toward the trees, but then she saw the brothers pull their animals to a sudden halt. And her mount, obviously not expecting a stop, locked its feet, sending Iris up on its neck. Her arms went around it and she grasped tightly, breathing heavily as she sank back in the saddle.
She was going to ask why they’d stopped, but didn’t have to. A shuttle was speeding toward them. This one was different than the one that had been used to transport her to the outpost. It moved soundlessly, and was shiny and emblazoned with the Traoian shield.
“Wait here,” Utak said, and Iris thought the command seemed like a senseless one. The brothers had already dismounted and their obedient gyrands stood lopping grass as they waited. She felt a tug on the reins as her mount lowered its head to eat with the others. She could hardly run off on such a herd-bound creature, not even if she wanted to.
She watched as Utak and Zios approached the shuttle on foot. Several Traoians were exiting. She recognized the senatorial robes and sashes of high-ranking officials. One stepped forward who was far shorter and stouter than the brothers. The portly Traoian’s expression turned grave as he gestured toward the encampment and the pass. Utak and Zios exchanged looks, nodded between themselves, nodded at the official.
Utak and Zios continued to speak with the delegation. There was more gesturing, this time toward the pass between the mountains. The senators’ expressions looked urgent as they spoke. The brothers’ gyrands moved to another patch of vegetation closer to their owners. The one under Iris followed. The talking stopped as one of the senators looked up at her.
“So, the human is still among you?” he sneered.
“Is there a reason a mate we were given should not be?” Zios asked.
“No, of course not.” The senator gave a false smile. “You are pleased with her?” He was staring at Iris. She could see the disappointment in his eyes. Traoian leadership no doubt expected her to be miserable, not to see her clean and dressed and in the company of the powerful chieftains.
“She is a fine female, and will be a good mate. My brother and I are grateful.”
“Then show your gratitude by protecting the people of our planet,” the senator was saying. “The threat I describe to you is very real, and hesitation on your part could cost many lives. The plan of attack we have recommended against the Odh is the best, based on our intelligence of their movements. If there are survivors in this first wave, more will come, and all will be lost.”
“We will honor our promise to protect the lives here,” Utak said, and the senators smiled and turned to file back into the shuttle bay. Iris’ gyrand lifted its head and blew a nervous blast of air as the vehicle lifted into the air, rumbled, and then shot across the plain.
Utak and Zios were talking quietly when they came back to their gyrands.
“We must gather the Council of Warriors,” Zios said. “You have done well today, little one, but we must go back now.”
Iris felt a sting of disappointment at having their outing cut short. The brothers seemed distracted. They did not look back at her as they rode ahead of her. When they arrived in the encampment, Utak issued a high, ululating call and suddenly, large male Trogarians were rushing toward the tent. The brothers dismounted, and she was lifted off the gyrand by Zios, who carried her inside and deposited her on the far side of his chamber.
“Do not move from this spot,” he said gruffly. Through the flap of the partition, she could hear the sound of concerned male voices. She edged closer to the partition, catching snatches of conversation.
She had never heard of the Odh, but from what the Trogarians had been told, Traoian intelligence had indicated the race from a relatively newly discovered star system was planning to launch a series of attacks. The first would involve landing somewhere on the remote, unpatrolled portion of TraoX39, followed by a sweep through the pass. This first exercise, they’d been told, would be part test, part reconnaissance. If the party survived, the full army would be sent. The Traoians had painted a bleak picture of what would follow if any Odh was left alive.
The debate among the Trogarians was spirited, and as Iris listened, she realized how wrong the Traoians were to paint these people as savages. Utak and Zios and the other members of the council were measured in their debate; they’d sworn to protect the planet, but uneasy about attacking a strange race based on Traoian intelligence alone.
“They have been honest with us thus far,” Zios was saying, and behind the partition, Iris frowned. She could tell them a thing or two about Traoian honesty. But as the council edged closer to acceptance, she took comfort in their satisfaction with their allies. The senators had assured them that they had backup military at the ready, should the Trogarians need it. To doubt their allies in the face of an unknown attacker could be disastrous not just to the planet they’d sworn to protect, but to the females and younglings in their own encampment. They would face this threat, the council decided, and cut the Odh down as they came through the pass.
They were starting to filter out of the tent. Iris still kept her ear to the opening in the tent flap, ready to move when she heard Zios approach. She jumped in alarm when the panel opened, and she looked up to see him staring down at her.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I-I…” She wanted to say she was just listening, but the words died in her throat. He’d told her not to move from where he’d placed her. She’d disobeyed, and in his dark eyes she could see that he would make her pay for that mistake.
Chapter Six
“I meant no harm,” she said defensively. Iris scrambled to her feet and backed away. “Besides, what’s wrong with your females knowing what goes on?”
“It is none of their concern.”
“Why?” Iris felt her self-preservation flee as her sense of social justice flared. “So we’ll remain ignorant? So we’ll be left defenseless if these things attack?”
“Silence!” he said, and the warning in his voice was evident, but she ignored it.
“How do you know we females couldn’t help?”
“Enough!”
“No,” she said. “It is ridiculous to keep your women in the dark! And I’m not about to willingly lay with any male who thinks I’m too stupid to know what’s going on.”
Zios’ face turned dark.
“It has nothing to do with that.” His voice grew quiet. “It is simply our way. We protect our females. They are too important to our race to be worried with matters of war.”
Iris crossed her arms. “That’s the same excuse men on my planet used for years.”
Zios reached out for her. “You forget your place. Even if you do not like it, that place exists.”
“And you forget that your way doesn’t include taking an unwilling woman, and I am no longer willing.” Iris glared at him.
She glared at him through helpless, angry tears. “I knew you were false,” she taunted. “You said you would not force yourself on a helpless woman, but you tie me up.”
“You are wrong. I will not put myself inside you until you are begging me,” he said. “You are tied in such a manner not for pleasure, but for punishment.” Zios picked up another piece of leather now, this one supple and about eight inches long. By the time Iris realized his intent, it was too late. There was a flick of his wrist, and a snap as the tip of the little strap struck the top of her pubic mound. She jerked from the sting, crying out.
“No… don’t!” She wriggled. His eyes were fixed on her pussy. He flicked the strap again; this time it fell on the left lip of her labia. It felt like liquid fire suffusing her entire pubis when a corresponding blow landed on the opposite side.
“Aiiiieeeeeyyyy!” She was writhing to escape what she now realized was worse than any spanking, and more humiliating, even than the plug-and-clamp correction she’d first received. Zios was taking his time, aiming for the silken petals of her inner labia now, striking just hard enough to deepen the sting to an unbearable heat that was both painful but also…
No!
Despite the pain, there was a different kind of heat building now, and each descent of the strap made wet slapping sounds. He was hitting her more lightly now, the punishment going from corrective to teasing. Her inner passage clenched despite the pain, or because of it. The face that looked down at her had adopted a knowing look.
“Don’t!” She’d meant to sound firm, but the word came out as a soft plea. And when he did stop, it was almost worse because Iris found herself writhing before him, her exposed, drenched pussy open and… dear God… hungry for, for what?
Zios seemed to know, and when he leaned down to fasten his mouth to her smoldering, stinging, slick labia, the sound of her feral cry of passion filled the tent. She came instantly, rocking her hips against his face. Zios’ mouth had latched onto her clit, was suckling it, and the force of her orgasm in this trussed position caused her legs to spasm and cramp. She was a conflicting mess of sensations—pulsing pleasure and stinging pain and deep hurt and swirling passion. Waves of sexual ecstasy carried her through the physical storm, settling her on the other side just as the huge head lifted from between her legs. Zios’ eyes were glazed with lust; his face was glazed with her arousal.
He rose to his knees. His cock was in his hand. It was thick, with a huge ruddy head and veins networking down its length. It was big, so much better than a human’s cock. And she could tell it was—as Utak warned her—more substantial, and would likely stretch her more than his.
But she wanted it. God, she wanted it. Her pussy clenched. Iris scrunched her eyes tight, trying to stop the want, trying to ignore the growing emptiness. Her body had never craved anything like she craved the invasion of this alien male’s thrust into her body, had never longed for anything as she longed for the stretch she knew she’d feel if he pushed his way into the pussy spread open before him.
“Please.” Her tone was as wanton as her attempts to push her hips toward him.
“You want me to couple with you?”
“Please.” She said it again, this time through gritted teeth.
Zios smiled, and in the back of her mind, Iris realized she’d lost. But as he pushed the flared head of his cock against her pussy, as he rubbed it teasingly up and down, she felt the victor. Even trussed, she had power, for he wanted her as much as she wanted him. He was just more controlled. But still, Iris could see the need on his face as he pushed slowly inside her, the entry every bit as painfully delicious as she anticipated.
She wished she could widen her legs, but her position made it impossible. Zios seemed to realize this, for he reached back and drew the knife from the strap on his leg to cut through the leather which bound her. Once freed, those legs instantly wrapped around him, and to Iris’ surprise, she thrust up, driving him inside her. The Trogarian was not expecting this. Now his eyes widened, and he moaned, looking down at her in surprise. And Iris knew her face was now not one of helplessness, but one of a determined female who sensed her own subtle power as she began to move up and down on his shaft from her position beneath him. She smoothly pivoted her hips, the sting of the punishment magnified by the stretch of her punished labia even as his cock rubbed a hidden inner spot, driving her wild.
The knife cut through the straps holding her arms now. She hugged Zios to her, and he rolled onto his back, grasping her waist and sliding her up and down on his shaft. Iris felt a sense of frustration as he took control, even with her on top, and she saw something of playfulness in his eyes.
Iris clamped her thighs as tight as she could, and although she knew she could not trap him, not really, he stopped moving, as if humoring her.
Then he pulled her off his cock, put her on all fours, and rammed into her from behind. She cried out, but gripped the furs beneath her, holding fast, softening her hips, going with the escalating feeling of pleasure that pushed her to a third and final orgasm.
This one coincided with his, and she felt hot bursts of seed pulse into her, bathing the neck of her womb, then seeping out from around his softening cock. It ran down the inside of her thighs, making her feel marked, owned. How could this excite her, she wondered. But it did. Zios and Utak had both touched something on a core level within her, something primal.
He pulled her down with him as he rolled on his side, and at that moment she forgot her pride, forgot how he’d forbidden her from listening to the males. At that moment, all she could think about was being a female in the arms of her dominant mate, and how, soon, Utak would join in their lovemaking.
Chapter Seven
Their encounter left Iris exhausted. When she awoke, both Zios and his brother were gone. But Lija was there, with a plate of food that included berries, some sort of boiled grass, meat, and a bowl of sweet grubs for dessert. This time, Iris ate everything.
“Your appetite is better,” Lija said. “But coupling stirs the blood, increases the strength and the need for food.” She pointed to the dried seed on Iris’ thighs, and Iris blushed at the directness. When she finished, Lija told her the female Trogarians were all going down to the spring to bathe, and that she would be coming with them.
It was the first time she’d ventured out alone with those who would now be her peers, and this made her more nervous in some ways than the company of the brothers. The other females stared more directly now that she was outside the chieftains’ protective company. Iris wondered if they were jealous, for surely a Trogarian woman would aspire to marry the most prestigious male. But as she looked around she noticed that not all the females were Trogarian, and among the females heading to the springs were those of other races, including a voluptuous woman with almond eyes, emerald green skin, and a tail that flicked as she walked. A child trailed behind her, a boy that was obviously full Trogarian.
Lija reached out and touched her arm. “That is Sinta. She was the lone survivor saved in a raid on her village. We raised her, and when she became an adult was given to Antok and Gladin for a mate. That is their son, Kirn.”
“Was he born here?” Iris glanced back at the encampment, trying to imagine giving birth in this wild place, here at the foot of these huge mountains.
“No. He was conceived on a moon, Xdor. And the A
ll that Is did not impart the life spark until we all went back to Trogar. He was born there, and now is here.”
They’d reached the springs now. Shed clothing lay piled on the bank. Females were splashing each other playfully in the steamy water. Those with children played close to the edge.
“So… the pregnancy doesn’t grow at the moment of conception?”
“It plants, and takes if it is a good match. You will know when it happens. But the life spark comes when it is ready. It may be moments after, or much longer. The All that Is must be trusted to know when the child will be born.”
Iris stepped into the water with Lija, who took her hands and pulled her into the deep. As they were treading water, Iris looked at the servant. She was pretty, with olive skin, long dark hair fixed in a coiled braid, and large, catlike eyes.
“Utak and Zios… their mate died,” she said.
Lija’s serene smile disappeared. Her face took on a pained look. “Yes. The All that Is reclaimed her and the son of Trogar. It was hard. The spark was slow in coming. There was much rejoicing when Mara began to swell. The Crone did not see her death, but then the Pathmakers are not identified. We do not know they are Pathmakers until they die.”
“Pathmakers?” Iris shook her head, puzzled.
“The burning grief of their loss purifies the path for something new, something bigger. Mara was the Pathmaker for you. The protection your mates feel will be increased tenfold in the wake of this loss. The child you carry will be important.”
