by Tahlia Black
“Easier said than done, I imagine.”
Stratus straightens, clicking his fingers. “We shall rehearse then.”
I can no longer deny the attraction I feel towards the brothers. I ignite in the presence of their sculpted bodies, my loins burning for the hot satisfaction of their cocks.
I press my chair back and stand, lifting my tunic away, my nipples standing stiffly from my chest. “Well, what are you waiting for then… Masters?”
And I swear I’ve never seen anything move so fast—human or extraterrestrial.
The fucking that follows is swift and hard. The three of us lie in my bed, my legs spread, the still-wet spread of my sex continuing to throb.
“Did you always wish to be a soldier?” asks Stratus.
“I haven’t known anything else. My father said he had to make an example of me. I was raised by marines and put into the Academy as soon as I was of age. I didn’t leave the Alliance mothership until my first mission.”
Stratus runs the tip of his finger down my belly, lets it sit against the top of my pubis in wait. “Xantor?”
“Yes.”
I see Stratus exchange a nervous glance with his brother.
Once I would have felt proud to be part of the extermination of the Xantorian race, but all I feel now is a deep and painful guilt. I try to hold back the emotion, the shame. “I didn’t know… I thought I was doing the right thing.”
The screams come back to me, not just from Xantor, but the many Alliance campaigns that followed to Tarn and Xexos—women, children… I didn’t hesitate, killing at will.
Tyrus pulls my head into his chest, his strong heart beating against my ear, but the rhythm with far more of a cadence, different to a human’s. “There now. It was no good to dwell on the past, as painful as it may be. You were born into that life. You knew nothing else. It’s only natural you wanted to please your father.”
“I wanted his approval,” I confess. “When he pinned the Alliance Star of Honor onto my chest… It was the proudest day of my life.”
“What can you tell us, of your father?”
I draw in a tight breath. “There’s nothing to tell you wouldn’t already know. He’s thirsty for power, as you suggested. He’s feared throughout the galaxy, and with good reason. When my mother betrayed him by sleeping with one of his Corporals, he had the two of them skinned and then spaced alive. The whole fleet was forced to watch. If he were to find out that… with us…”
“He will not find out,” says Stratus, his voice firm and eyes dark. “Should you be captured, you will tell them you were forced into submission.”
“No, never. Not now I know the truth. You have shown me greater respect and love than any human. I’d rather die than deny it.”
Stratus smiles. “Let us hope it does not come to that, Nu’va.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
EVE
I’m anxious as we step out of the transporter. The Dothkhan capital is nothing like what I saw in the holos. It’s a bright and vibrant metropolis with towering castles, peaks, and turrets, each unique. Animal and vehicle alike share the streets, the pavement below my feet white and opalescent.
“It’s beautiful,” I say.
Tyrus reaches below my tunic to pinch my ass. “Wait until the Council see you, my love. They won’t be able to contain their cocks.”
The Palace rises into the clouds, a spire of shimmering color. We enter at its base, the brothers guiding me through corridor after corridor until we emerge at a single, vaulted door not unlike the ones back at the castle.
Stratus faces me. “Are you ready, Nu’va?”
I’m terrified in truth, unsure what to expect, but I nod all the same and smile.
Tyrus knocks twice and the door splits open to reveal a bright chamber, Dothkhan males of every size and shape seated around a grand table—perhaps twelve or more.
“Enter,” says the tangerine male at the head of the table, a crown of twisted color upon his head.
Stratus stands and guides me under the arm towards the table. “Eve, I’d like you to meet the Board of Inquisitors, a special subset of the High Council convened here for this happy occasion. They’ll be watching the Consummation.”
Some nod. Other watch on indifferent, but all seem to be in on some joke I am not.
Tyrus smiles. “These men are here to see you chastised, my dear, in preparation for what is to come.”
These terms of endearment still seem strange coming from Tyrus’s lips, especially after his hand has been so firm.
I look to the end of the room and see a strange metal frame there.
“Ah,” continues Stratus, following my eyes, “the Rack. Do you like it?”
I note the restraints. “What is it?”
Stratus grins with satisfaction. “Why, I’m going to cane your bare ass in front of the Inquisitors.”
My worst fears are confirmed.
“Many of the men you see here have suffered through their own chastising, I can assure you—all Dothkhan of noble houses. They have earned the right to be here.”
Stratus moves to a side table and takes up a long, thin rod with wicker handle. “An ancient human relic, well preserved.”
My ass cheeks tighten at the sight.
“Please,” I whisper, cheeks burning and trying to ignore the other Dothkhan in the room, “can’t we come to some private arrangement?”
Stratus laughs. “I’m afraid not, Nu’va. An example needs to be set, a viewing made before we can move on. Strip.”
I’m shaking. “I, I can’t do it.”
Stratus taps the cane against the palm of his hand. “I really don’t want to get the Inquisitors involved, dear Eve, but I will, if necessary. Thirteen able Dothkhan males with towering pricks to match… Do you really think you would survive?”
He knows he has me, so I strip, removing my tunic in shame and humiliation until I’m as bare as the day I was born, hands over my breasts and pubis trying desperately to avoid eye contact.
Stratus peels my hands away. “Why would you want to hide such a body, Nu’va?”
I can feel the Board’s eyes on me, burning into my naked body.
Stratus leads me over to the Rack. I stand there, the cold metal against my belly as he fastens my ankles and wrists with tight leather. It’s different to the restraints he used during our first encounter at the castle. This is far more primitive and ancient.
Spread, arms above my head caught in a cross, my ass and back to the room, I wait trying frantically to regulate my breathing. Some of the men lean forward, others shifting, their cocks becoming iron.
I resolve to take his thrashing with courage.
They will not see me cry, I say to myself, pulling on all the strength I can muster.
Stratus turns a dial at the side of the Rack and the metal bar pressing against my belly begins to move against it, rounding out my ass even further.
I’m terrified, humiliated, but even still there is a soft spread of desire running deeper now I am in the center of this act, the crux of today’s entertainment.
I flinch as Stratus strokes my hair, a finger running down my back. “Eve, you wish to carry a Dothkhan child, a rare honor but one that comes at a price. Do you consent?”
I breathe in and nod.
“Say it.”
“I do, Master.”
I don’t know how long I can stand this indignity, being treated like a pet or child, but it’s too late now.
I know Stratus is gathering the cane behind me, readying himself. I tense my rump, waiting for that first taste of the cane’s sizzling bite, the smarting line to follow.
I hold the frame. I won’t cry. I won’t cry, but from the first kiss of the cane, I know I am lost.
The first blow lands with brutal force right in the center of my peachy orbs. I scream out, my poor bottom twitching tight.
“Two, Stratus announces,” the next coming low and fast with a sharp thwat!
Stratus’s hand was one
thing, but the pain the cane delivers is beyond imagining. I can already feel the tears pricking at my eyes as the third stripe lands squarely on the back of my legs.
Stratus forgets to count, the lashes building in every direction—horizontal, vertical, diagonal, no patch of skin left unturned in his quest for my complete and utter humiliation.
I wriggle and shift, but he commands me to still lest he be forced to strike harder.
I howl, my throat shrill, as he whips the rod back and forth in quick succession across my exposed behind.
“Ah!” I moan, voice caught between pleasure and pain, my fingers opening and closing so desperate to reach to my itchy ass and alleviate the stinging.
I don’t know how long I endure it, eyes wet and threatening to overflow just as Stratus holds back, the cane steady. He steps forward and begins to trace the hot marks left behind by the cane, the pain excruciating.
He taunts me with his touch. “So hot, so tender.”
There’s a murmur of agreement in the room. I wonder how many human girls have been punished here, how many have been chastened by Stratus’s or Tyrus’s cruel hand.
“Beautiful,” Stratus remarks, as though he’s studying a great work of art, my hindquarters stiff. “Ten more should suffice, don’t you think?”
I see Tyrus nod to my side, a roiling storm of red underneath his skin.
Ten more? I can barely take a single stroke. My cheeks press together at the announcement. I picture my ass scarlet and ruby, lines crossed over one another marking me out as a common criminal, unable to even sit right tomorrow, every time I do reminding me of His hand.
Stratus steps back and whips the cane through the air. I can feel the air parting behind my ass, the cane too close.
“Every time I lash you, you will reply ‘thank you, Master, can I have another.’”
My breathing is deep, nipples hard and brushing against the cold skeleton of the Rack.
I nod.
Just let it be over.
With a swoosh, the next thrashing comes down on my soft cheeks. I pucker, replying, “Thank you—Master,” I pant. “Can I—have another?”
Stratus bides his time, stretching out the agony. I hear the cane being raised, my bottom relaxing momentarily just as the rod bites deep into my upper cheeks. I hammer forward, crying out, huffing, eyes finally spilling over but a deeper release waiting.
“Thank—you—Master,” I begin, breathless, “can I—have—another?”
I suck in my breath, expelled as the next thrashing follows, whipping my ass upright.
The burning, the itching, is driving me insane, but I’m wet—soaking, dripping, the insides of my thighs slick with arousal. I know they can see it, the gathered Dothkhan. I know they’re aware of the effect this humiliation is having upon my young body.
Stratus prompts me and I deliver the line again robotically.
“Oh, Nu’va,” mopes Stratus. “You can do better than that.”
Tears drip from my face freely. I choke back a sob not sure I can go through with this.
Stratus doesn’t care. The thin shaft of the rod kisses my ass again, stroke after stroke following until my mental counter clicks over to ‘ten.’
Come on. Come on. Come on.
Stratus sits the cane there, just presses it into the red mess that my backside has become and waits. He delivers two very light thwacks across both cheeks, more love taps than anything but scalding all the same. I think even a breeze would send me into madness at this stage.
“Such an adorable little bottom when it’s been well tended to,” Stratus muses. He brushes the cane against my skin. “I do hope you’ve learnt your lesson, Eve. Just one to go, my dear.”
I see in the window beside me some of the Inquisitors are standing, stroking and jerking themselves off. Stratus’s cock juts out stiffly behind me.
“Say it.”
“Thank you, Master,” I sob. “Can I have another?”
“Of course you may.” The swishy belting that follows presses me hard against the Rack.
And then there is silence, blissful silence.
It’s done.
I sag in my restraints, tired and weary. My rump has numbed to the pain but I know in an hour or two the pain will return and double, the next few days murderous, every toss and turn reminding me of this moment.
Stratus undoes my restraints personally, lifting me down from the Rack. He has me dress, wincing as the material of the tunic brushes against my tender skin.
I look at the Board members. A couple have spent themselves over the table, seed pooled there in small puddles.
“Inquisitors.” Stratus nods, leading me from the room with Tyrus in tow.
He brings me into a smaller side room and closes the door, not bothering to turn on the lights but pulling me to the table in the center.
I am too weak to argue.
He throws me over the table and draws my legs apart.
I grit my teeth together as his hands fall onto my ass cheeks. He reaches between us, taking his cock in hand and filling me in one stroke, the full length of his thick shaft hilted easily in my wetness.
There’s a flare of pain every time he comes against my rump, a welcome contrast as he massages my silky depths below.
I can’t take it. I claw at the table, nipples hard against its sleek surface.
He fucks me, pressing my poor cheeks together and ramming into my body with powerful strokes.
I blink into the darkness, connect with his heavy and labored breathing sing-songing with my own. Caught like this, I explode, letting my orgasm slam into me and take me away to another world entirely.
Stratus pulls free of my still-convulsing sex and erupts over my backside, hot ribbons of arousal falling over my rear.
A moment, two, three pass as we collect ourselves, my climax waning but continuing to simmer below the surface.
I feel Tyrus’s hot breath come against my ear, his hard cock sliding up to sit against the tight balloon knot of my anus. “My turn,” he whispers.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
STRATUS
Exotic furs line Eve’s bed. She lays on her stomach while Tyrus and I apply the necessary salves and ointments onto her heated behind.
I bend over her back, kissing her neck, shoulders, her hair. “You did well, Nu’va. The Council will not deny us now.”
Tyrus attends to her ass cheeks, gently caressing each in turn. “How do you feel?”
Eve stretches out, wincing as she does so. “Sore.”
Tyrus applies more salve, running the soothing oil right into the crack of her ass. “This will help with the burning,” he says.
I’m surprised at the soft touch my brother employs. There can be no denying now how much our human has grown upon him. I do not need to ask him what he’d be prepared to sacrifice to keep her safe.
I feel tension in Eve’s shoulders, the knots gathered below the skin. “What is it, my love? Did you not think we would take care of you?”
I’m surprised when she sobs, bringing up a hand to wipe her eyes. “No… I did… I just…”
I let my hand still on her skin. “You’re not accustomed to it, are you? Being cared for?”
“No.” I see her bite her lip.
“And yet you told the Board of Inquisitors you would bear our young, even though we hadn’t discussed it, even though we are not your species.”
Tyrus’s hands move to her thighs.
“I see now I could have a life here, a family and the love I never shared with my father. If that means… breeding, I will comply.”
I laugh. “Compliance is not required. It is a choice, Nu’va, one you must make willingly, but know that breeding is considered the highest of callings here on Dothkhan. You will be worshipped wherever you go, able to undertake whatever endeavor you choose, well-compensated by the state.”
“And the child? What will they be like?”
I share a brief glance with Tyrus, but his eyes are dark and unreadabl
e. We both know a human has never successfully born a Dothkhan child, even if our greatest minds deem it to be anatomically and physically possible. But I know Eve will be the one, the one who proves it can be done, that the Dothkhan have a hope of survival. I know it with such certainty I’m willing to bet her very life on it.
“They will be the most beautiful child in all the galaxy,” replies Tyrus warmly, “the best of all of us.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TYRUS
I never thought the day would come when I pined for a human, but Eve has proved far more than a simple pet. These last few days spent with her around the castle, hunting in the valley, have been the happiest of my life. I look at her and the horrors of the past are erased. I see hope in her doe eyes, in the way she craves our touch and begs for more. Stratus is right. She is special, one of a kind.
And she fucks like a God.
The bond is greater than sex, though. Purity in breeding was once my catch cry, but I wonder now what a human-Dothkhan hybrid would be like. Would it share our skin, have her eyes? I do not know, only that it would be a wonderful and powerful thing to be a father.
Eve joins me at the castle walls looking down to the courtyard where two Dothkhan apprentices are busy making preparations for the Ceremony.
Her hair blows lightly in the breeze, her skin a flawless alabaster that never fails to harden my cock and soften my heart. “Stocks.”
“For a prisoner?”
“For you, my love.”
She looks to me confused. “You wish to place me into that thing? We had magno-stocks on the mothership, for punishment, but they were reserved for only the worst offenders. Surely you don’t wish to place me in such bondage?”
I cannot tell whether she is teasing me or simply speaking the truth. I reach out and draw her against my side, kissing her on the cheek. “We do, and you will hate us for it, curse our very names over and over until your throat is so dry and barren you cannot summon a single syllable. That is when we shall take you. That is when the Ceremony will begin.”
I see her swallow, her eyes anxious. “When will it happen?”
