by Sadie Marks
"I don't—I don't understand why you're asking that," she said, letting her voice drop to a whine.
"Humans," he snorted. "Tell me what had you sopping wet and practically begging me to take you the moment I came in," he demanded, and his finger never stopped circling her clit.
"I—" It was hard to think and harder to respond. She knew what he wanted to hear, but it was humiliating to say it. "It was the thought of being spanked, of—of living this life," she whispered.
"Do you want to be a slave, little girl?" He leaned in, whispering the words against her ear, and her hips bucked as a shudder went down her spine.
"Y-yes. I do. Please, I do." The words came out slowly, choked and hesitant, but they were the truth. In that one moment, there was no doubt or hesitation; she wanted this.
He turned her in his arms, pulling her back against his hard chest as one arm slung across her stomach to pin her there. His other slid back between her legs, pushing them apart, and then quickly, his middle finger was driving up into her. Her hips rolled as she tried to reach her peak, and suddenly, it was there, crashing over her with a liquid warmth that spread out from her core.
Her body shook as she pressed back against him, mewling as she clenched around his finger in rhythmic waves. Her clit pulsed in time with her heart, and, all at once, she felt limp as her knees went weak. "Oh. Oh, God," she gasped. She didn't really have the ability to say anything more than that. It felt like her body had become boneless, somehow.
"Highly responsive, as they said," the alien said thoughtfully. His finger continued to move inside of her as she clutched at his arm and tried to keep from sliding to the floor in a melted puddle. But then, the pleasure stopped. He withdrew his hand, ignoring her protesting moans and she found herself being turned around to look at him. "But I did promise you a punishment, didn't I?"
Her eyes widened, mouth already opening to protest, but he shook his head. "If you'd answered me with politeness, I would have punished you first, letting you hold onto the arousal to blunt the pain, but you chose to give me rudeness. I am a warrior and you will speak to me politely, or you will regret it," he said calmly.
He didn't seem angry at her, just very resolute about the whole matter. She'd done something wrong, and there would be consequences for it. She found it oddly soothing that he showed no emotion about the punishment. It helped, somewhat, when he turned her around and led her to a piece of furniture that looked a bit like a vaulting horse.
She knew what it was, of course. She was inexperienced, but she wasn't sheltered or stupid. She knew what almost everything in the room was for; she'd just never experienced any of it herself. Until now—suddenly, she wished she hadn't spent so much time watching vids in the Sphere. They were intense and immersive, surrounding her so she could feel like she was part of the scene. The one thing they couldn't give her was the actual feeling of being spanked, but she'd seen the reactions and the results up close and in detail.
So, she knew what to expect, at least theoretically, when he bent her across the padded bench. Her feet were still on the floor behind her, but in front, her hands couldn't quite reach, and rather than leave them dangling, she wrapped them around the wooden legs and held on.
There were metal rings on the legs with cuffs attached, but he didn't use them to restrain her. He just placed her the way he wanted her, and then he turned and walked over to the wall. He expected her to stay where he'd left her, and she did, watching as he picked up various items and looked them over. Most went back up, but two, he kept and brought back with him.
He stopped in front of her, giving her a good view of his legs and the tight pants he wore. They looked like they'd been molded to him, outlining every muscle. He took a handful of her hair and dragged her head up, so he could see her eyes. "You won't get up. You can cry. Make as much noise as you want, I don't care, but you won't get up. Can you do that?" he asked.
It seemed to be a sincere question. "I-I don't know. I'm not sure. I've never been…" she trailed off. Should she call it a spanking? That seemed so childish, but he hadn't taken a whip off the wall. He'd taken down a narrow wooden paddle and short leather strap, and that seemed to fit the definition of a spanking.
"I know this. I've read your file," he said impatiently. "If you don't think you can stay in place, then I will restrain you, but if you want that favor from me…you must beg."
She gave him a mortified look. Beg to be tied in place, to be made helpless? There was no way in hell! "That's not a favor, and I'm not begging you for anything," she snapped, her attitude rising with the stung pride. This was exactly why she'd thought they'd reject her early on. She wanted to submit, but some part of her also wanted to be in control. She'd never allowed a lover to tie her up, let alone begged one for the 'favor' of it.
He crouched down so he was on a level with her, focusing those shiny black eyes on her. She flinched and tried to look away, but the grip on her hair held her and she closed them instead. She could feel the intensity of his gaze on her, even with them shut, and for a few seconds, there was silence. "It is a favor because of what I'll do to you if you get up before I'm done. If you're going to be a slave on my ship, you'd better get used to begging, little girl."
"Y-your ship? You have your own ship?" she asked, her voice small and hesitant. If he had his own ship, then that meant he was no ordinary Sadec, if there was such a thing. He would have to be someone important, but she should have guessed that without the hint. The balance between the Earth government and the Sadecs was very delicate, and the council was overseeing both sides; for him to push his way in here before she'd been approved as suitable was an indication that he wasn't afraid of the consequences.
The Sadecs who came here were usually good about following the local laws and sticking to agreements in all things, as you'd expect from a soldier, and of course, that off-world council was constantly keeping an eye on things, just in case. There was only one type of Sadec who overstepped those rules without fear.
"You're a general," she said, the slightest hint of accusation in her voice, despite her attempts to sound polite. She opened her eyes, staring into his because, no matter how uncomfortable they made her, she couldn't keep them closed while she waited for him to answer.
She'd never heard of them mingling down here with the humans; they normally stayed on their ships. Generals didn't go to people; they waited for people to come to them. Ruthless and without fear, they commanded the armadas of ships that made their race feared across the universe. Or so she'd heard. There was still so much that the human race didn't know about them, even now.
Humans had been welcomed, had been offered eventual membership in the Affiliation of Sentient Beings, but they were slowly being eased into relationships with the rest of the universe. Some few humans had left on exchanges, to learn about the other cultures, but the rest of the planet depended on the information given to them by visitors or in news stories.
A Sadec General coming to Earth was news, and she wondered why he was here. It couldn't be for her; she'd have been brought to him as soon as testing was over if he'd demanded it. It wasn't necessary for him to entertain himself with her here, so why, then?
"Am I? Are you sure, or are you guessing, girl?" His tone was amused again, as if she was some entertaining pet, which she guessed was close enough.
She rolled her bottom lip under her teeth, biting down on it nervously as she stared into the absolute blackness of his eyes. His question made her doubt herself, but what else could he be? "I-I'm sure. You must be," she said, not sounding very confident.
"Sure enough to bet on it?" he asked. If she didn't know better, she'd swear he was teasing her.
"Bet? With stakes? Like…like…you'll let me off without the punishment if I'm right?" she asked. That might be worth the risk.
He shook his head. "No, I promised punishment. Besides, I've never punished a Pain Receiver before, and I like the idea of being the first to touch you. Offer something else," he sugge
sted.
She thought for a moment. It was hard to make a bet when you didn't even know what you had to offer. She wasn't entirely sure it was a smart move, either, betting with him. She thought of something; she didn't want to be restrained. Didn't want to feel like she was trapped there while he hurt her, but she also didn't want him to inflict whatever insidious tortures he had in mind if she tried to escape, either.
She didn't trust herself to be able to stay there, bent over and vulnerable, while he punished her. She'd been trained since she was a child to fight back, and while she knew, on a logical level, that this was one fight she wouldn't win, she had a feeling her instincts weren't going to take that into account. "If I'm right, you won't make me beg for the restraints," she said, finally, after some thought. She'd been tempted to ask for no extra punishment if she did get up, but she thought that was unlikely to be granted; this was the next best thing.
"Reasonable. Accepted. But, if you are wrong? What will I get?" he asked.
What could she give him that he couldn't take? She was giving him herself. That she had passed the tests and would be a slave of the Sadecs was a foregone conclusion at this point. She had nothing else. "I-I don't have anything to offer. If I'm a slave, then you've already taken everything from me, haven't you?" she asked. It wasn't quite a demand, and she kept her tone carefully polite, hiding all of the sass she wanted to give him.
He looked surprised, regarding her for a few seconds with a confused look. "I don't think you'll find your slavery so angry as all that, human," he said finally.
"Angry?" She cocked her head; it was her turn to look confused.
"Angry, yes—no. Wait." He touched the back of his ear, frowning. "Arduous. You won't find your slavery so arduous as all that," he said with the contraction. He sighed and shook his head. "Translators aren't always efficient, and your planet has so many languages. It will be easier once you're on the ship."
Well, that explained how his English was so good, and why he spoke so slowly and carefully. At times, too, it seemed oddly formal, as if he wasn't comfortable with contractions or slang. She'd thought it was just his speech mannerisms. The way they modulated their voices to make them sound musical seemed like it would take effort. She was about to ask why it would be easier there, but all of a sudden, he was standing up, and her line of sight was just about crotch level. It felt weird to talk to that part of him, so she stopped.
"There's no need to drag this out or come up with something to offer, since you are correct. I am a general, and you will be restrained for your punishment," he said as he moved behind her. She twisted a little, trying to see what he was going to do. She waited for him to lock her wrists and ankles into the cuffs, but he didn't. She wondered if she'd misunderstood or if the translator had acted up again, but no, he just had another restraint in mind. A wide leather strap was draped across her back and fastened on either side of the bench, and when she tested it, she realized it held her down firmly.
Her arms and legs were free to kick and wave, but it wouldn't do her any good as long as she was pinned in place. She wasn't sure why he'd chosen that way to restrain her, but she suspected it would be just as effective. Oddly, having her arms free made her feel a little less panicked about being tied down. She wasn't entirely sure why, but it helped, until the spanking actually started.
He caressed her backside, palm stroking over the smooth globes, and she wiggled, enjoying the sensation of those soft hairs on his palm and the way they lightly prickled when they touched bare skin. After too brief a time, he hooked a finger under the waistband of her panties and tugged them down over the rounded hills.
Despite his comments about this being punishment and saying he'd made her orgasm first to make it hurt more, he didn't seem to mind that his slow, sensual actions were starting to get her worked up all over again. It wasn't that he didn't notice, because once he'd tossed the sodden panties aside, it couldn't be hidden. He ran a finger along the seam of her lower lips and made a chuffing sound that had to be laughter.
"You're already aroused again," he commented. "No, I do not think you'll mind your term of slavery at all," he added, and then he began to spank.
He used his hand at first; the width of it was almost enough to cover a whole cheek with each spank, but that didn't keep him from overlapping the swats to ensure he brought her skin to the right color. Or maybe, with his alien eyes, it was a temperature he was going for, she wasn't sure. There was no reason to struggle or test the strap that bound her; she found his hand to be enjoyable.
There was something so scintillating about the way the slaps built up, adding sting slowly at a rate she could handle. Her hips began to sway from side to side in an unconscious response to the rhythm he was setting. It was almost hypnotic, and she could feel her folds opening as they swelled with arousal. She arched her back, trying to entice him to reach between her thighs and touch her there.
He stopped, his hand cupping and squeezing one cheek. "Do you like your first spanking?" he asked. His voice had deepened, taking on that rougher tone. She wondered if it was because he was turned on from spanking her.
"Yes, very much," she said. She wiggled her ass a little, on purpose. She wasn't ready for him to stop yet, not unless he was interested in touching her in a different way.
"If you obey, you can be rewarded with pleasurable pain like this," he said. "Do you want to obey?" The question had a hint of steel in it, and it demanded only one answer.
"Yes, I do. I really do," she swore. "But please, don't stop yet!" She tried another seductive wiggle to make her point.
It was true; she really wanted to obey if it meant things like this. What was supposed to be a brief test had turned into her first scene, the kind of thing she'd always fantasized about, and she wanted it all. She wanted more spanking, and then she wanted him to claim her body and fuck her until she screamed. Only her stubborn pride kept her from asking for that.
"Do you know what will happen when you do not obey?" he asked.
She swallowed hard. "I-I guess, not this?" she asked hesitantly. About that time, she remembered that he'd promised her punishment, and it suddenly occurred to her that what he'd done so far hadn't been especially punishing. If anything, it had been more in line with foreplay.
"Correct. Not this," he said firmly. He let go of the cheek he'd been squeezing and picked up the wooden paddle he'd taken down from the wall. "Disobedience and bad behavior need a different response, which I will definitely enjoy showing you. Now."
He did sound pleased, and she trembled. They were sadists and they enjoyed giving pain. Somehow, in the rush of enjoying his dominance and her first spanking, she'd forgotten the warnings. She'd been thoroughly briefed over the limits they had to follow, and those went quite a long way past an erotic spanking.
And now that she'd been de-briefed, or at least de-pantied, she was about to have a real taste of discipline. Not the fun kind, but the kind that would teach a lesson with every burning swat. All the regret about volunteering for this came rushing back. If she was very good, she might earn a sexy spanking, pain she could enjoy. The other kind could come regardless; she wouldn't even have to do something wrong. They could punish her at the slightest whim.
Why had she agreed to this? She groaned and let her head drop, knowing the answer to that. She'd agreed to be a Pain Receiver because she was tired of walking through life feeling half-alive. She was tired of denying the submissive part of herself as she ruined one relationship after another. This might be a more extreme version of what she needed, but it was better than nothing at all.
At least that's what she remembered hoping. The pain of that first experience, which was still in her very recent past, made her body throb. Every detail, every second of the scene was indelibly recorded in her mind.
3
Her hope got a bit dented when the hard wood cracked down across her rump with a meaty smacking sound that echoed off the white walls. She yelped, bucking up against the leather strap, bu
t it did its job and kept her in place as the paddle swung again…and again.
She hadn't needed the freedom of her arms and legs to kick and flail before, but now she took advantage of it. Her legs scissored in the air desperately as she tried to block the powerful swings, and he laughed because her attempts amused him. He actually seemed to enjoy the struggling, or at least he didn't mind it. It didn't stop him from doing what he'd decided to do, and the paddle continued to slap down across her bare skin, coloring it quickly to a deep rose shade that felt as painful as it looked.
Kenzi found it a deeply humiliating experience to be trapped in place while this was done to her. Her years of martial arts training had toughened her up and given her a fairly high pain tolerance, but something about the position and circumstances stripped all of that away and left her vulnerable. The fact that she couldn't keep herself from struggling made it even worse because she knew what a show she was putting on.
The general probably loved it, and for that reason alone, she wished she could hold still, but every time the wicked wood smacked against her skin, she lost control, yelping and squirming to try to avoid it.
She tried to keep track of how many times he spanked her, but she quickly lost focus and her ability to count as the burn turned into a searing fire that threatened to engulf her whole backside. Whatever he was, the Sadec wasn't inexperienced at spanking. He knew how to draw it out, how to elicit the most pain from each strike.
No amateur, he brought her right to the brink of hysterics and then held her just on the cusp. It wasn't what she'd expected. What she'd fantasized about had been sexy, slow and even with lots of touching and rubbing—this was anything but sexy. It was hard and punishing, and it brought her to tears in a surprisingly short time. Kenzi hadn't cried since her father had died years back, not even when she'd broken her leg during a sparring match, but the intense personal nature of this punishment reduced her to a fragile state.
